m 
 
 -■■■ ;itm 
 
 
 . Z6.'0 
 
 •.^^^^^ 
 
 IjL^^ PRINCETON, N. J. % 
 
 
 BR 115 .S6 L3 1902 
 Lang, John Marshall, 1834- 
 1909. 
 
 The Church and its social 
 mission 
 
,1: 
 
 
THE CHURCH 
 
 ITS SOCIAL MISSION 
 
THE CHURCH 
 
 AND 
 
 ITS SOCIAL MISSION 
 
 {E^t iSairH Hecture for 1901) 
 
 JOHN MARSHALL LANG, D.D. 
 
 PRINCIPAL OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ABERDEEN 
 
 AUTHOR OF 'life: IS IT WORTH LIVING?' ' THE EXPANSION OF THE 
 CHRISTIAN LIFE,' ETC. ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THOMAS WHITTAKER 
 
 EDINBURGH AND LONDON 
 
 WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS 
 
 MCMII 
 
Printed by 
 William Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh, Scotland. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 This volume contains six lectures which, in ac- 
 cordance with the requirements of the Baird 
 Trust, were delivered in Glasgow, in the early 
 months of last year. The lectures, however, are 
 not reproduced in lecture form. They have been 
 divided into chapters ; and, in carrying out this 
 division, some rearrangements and modifications 
 of the original plan have been made necessary. 
 In chapters xiii. and xv., the author has inserted 
 parts of the course that he had designed, which, 
 for want of time, he was obliged to omit from 
 the lectures. 
 
 The chief interest of the present day is a social 
 interest. Over questions relating to the further- 
 ance of wellbeing, and to the improvement of the 
 conditions of life, the most active and influential 
 thought is exercised. Thus, with regard to the 
 arts and the sciences, it is felt that, whilst know- 
 
 b 
 
vi Preface. 
 
 ledge is to be pursued for its own sake, and the 
 ascertainment of truth is the end of research, the 
 ultimate aim of all real knowledge and of all 
 truth is the making of life worthier and wealthier. 
 The work of the student is coming ever more 
 fully into line with the efforts of those who, as 
 philanthropists, as educationists, as officers of 
 health, as members of corporations, as polit- 
 icians, are bent on reducing the occasions of 
 evil to individuals and of loss to the community, 
 and on a more effective application of the laws 
 and the constituents of social righteousness. 
 With this convergence of purpose in view, no 
 issue can be more important than that which 
 bears on the moral and spiritual influence that 
 pervades all endeavour. Sometimes this influ- 
 ence is ignored. Sometimes, though not alto- 
 gether ignored, the entire emphasis is put on 
 sanitary, on scientific, or on economic principles 
 and methods. In this volume, the contention 
 virtually is that, in the building up of a noble 
 human society, as in the building up of a noble 
 human being, the indispensable factor is the 
 moral will, the moral conscience, — that it is 
 this that determines the quality both of the 
 personal unit and of the civic unity. 
 
 The book now published assumes that the 
 ministry of the Christian Church specially con- 
 
Preface. vii 
 
 nects with ethical impulses and standards. It 
 presents the Church as a society founded by 
 Jesus Christ, and commissioned by Him to be 
 the salt of the earth, through the propagation 
 of its ideals in the surrounding world. It traces 
 the gradual unfolding of this mission in the 
 nineteen centuries of the history of the Church, 
 and, referring more particularly to Great Britain, 
 it exhibits the influence of the National Churches 
 on the moral pith and tone of the British peoples. 
 And, then, proceeding to the consideration of the 
 vast and intricate problems of modern life, it 
 discusses the solutions of these problems that 
 are proposed or attempted, dwelling, at some 
 length, on the revolutionary collectivism de- 
 manded by many as the only cure of social 
 wrong and ill. By this review, the inquiries 
 pressed on the attention of Christian men are 
 such as these : What has the Church to say 
 to an age whose wealth-lands and woe-lands are 
 so glaringly contrasted ? To what extent, and 
 in what ways, is it co-operating with all agencies 
 that aim at social betterment, and is it realis- 
 ing its own proper vocation to regenerate and 
 guide the life of the soul ? By what elasticities 
 of method is it adapting its service to the 
 complexities and the perplexities by which it is 
 confronted ? Wherein does it need to be 
 
viii Preface, 
 
 strengthened, it may be reformed, in order that 
 fuller effect may be given to its work? 
 
 That the author has satisfactorily realised his 
 intention, he cannot say. He is conscious of 
 the many imperfections that attach to his treat- 
 ment of a great theme. But he can honestly 
 say that his labour has been a labour of love, 
 and that he has done his best with the resources, 
 the time, and the opportunity, at his command 
 to secure a generous appreciation. 
 
 He acknowledges, with deep gratitude, the 
 kindness of his esteemed friend and colleague. 
 Professor Davidson, LL.D., who, in the midst 
 of his onerous duties, undertook the revision of 
 the proof-sheets, and of whose valuable sugges- 
 tions he has gladly availed himself. 
 
 Such as it is, the author sends the treatise 
 forth, in the hope that the charity of those who 
 read it may cover any blemishes which they 
 may detect, and that it may be of some use 
 to the generation he desires to serve according 
 to the will of God. 
 
 CuANONRY Lodge, Abkrdeen, 
 March 1 902. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CARDINAL POINTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The features most conspicuous in any survey of Christian civil- 
 isation. The study contemplated. The unit in social life. 
 The issue involved in the battle for liberty. Natural rights. 
 Organised social life necessary to the completion of personal 
 life. Sociology. The paramount importance of social 
 subjects. The unity of all agencies that relate to social 
 wellbeing. The Church : its influence on society and 
 social developments ; its testimony through the past nine- 
 teen centuries. In what sense the word "Church" is 
 employed. The two parts into which the book is divided 1-14 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHRIST'S TEACHING. 
 
 All human society gives vitality and continuity to ideas. The 
 ideas and aims that have been made effective by the 
 corporate action of the Church. The three lines along 
 which the proposed investigation shall proceed. The sub- 
 
Contents. 
 
 ject of this chapter. The Jewish environment of Jesus. 
 His recognition of all that formed the core of Israel's 
 nationality— A social order based on righteousness. Ap- 
 proximations to democratic equalities in the provisions of 
 the law. The community and its individual units. Christ 
 incorporated the Jewish ideal, but detached the ideal from 
 that which was merely dispensational. The originality of 
 His teaching. His connexion of the seen and the unseen. 
 The social tendency of His doctrine illustrated in the 
 Sermon on the Mount. Its summum bonum. Three 
 features of the conduct which corresponds to the end thus 
 indicated. The social and catholic character of the king- 
 dom as it is presented in Christ's teaching. The adaptive- 
 ness of His anthropology to all wholesome developments 
 of life . . . . . . 15-30 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE SOCIAL VOCATION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 The assertion that Christ's ethic contemplates the righteousness 
 of the individual rather than that of a corporate body. To 
 what extent justified. But the formation of an ethical 
 society always in Christ's view. This shewn even in the 
 Sermon on the Mount. The nature of His society. The 
 society the evidence of His kingdom in its two abiding 
 features. The Church an election out of mankind. What 
 election does not mean. The Church a Trustee Body : 
 through which the few are used to bless the many. The 
 consecration of the Church as evidenced in Christ's Inter- 
 cessory Prayer. The vocation enforced by great regulative 
 truths. The central truth of the Church is the Incarnation. 
 Some lines of objection to this truth discussed. The twofold 
 appeal by which the faiih in the Incarnation is strengthened ; 
 the appeal to personal affection, in the view of Christ's 
 sacrificing love ; the appeal to all that is strenuous and 
 hopeful in tlie assurance of a living Christ . . 31-52 
 
Contents, xi 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE AGGRESSIVE SOCIAL ACTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 The interest and the use of Church history. Why it repels many. 
 But what is beneath and behind all records is the real his- 
 tory. The impossibility of summarising such vast expan- 
 sions. Two epochs selected. One, from the beginning of 
 the history until the peace of Constantine. The other, from 
 the latter half of the middle ages until the Reformation. 
 The beginning at the day of Pentecost. The Christian 
 community in the early morning of Christianity. A char- 
 acteristic collectivism. New chances and guarantees for 
 civilised life. Disengagement of Christianity from Judaism. 
 Its contact with the Roman Empire. St Paul the pioneer 
 of the more catholic enterprise. His organisation of 
 Christian communities. His missionary circuits. His ideal 
 and aim. The facilities for the extension of the Church 
 offered by the Roman Empire. Why the Church was per- 
 secuted. What the Church had become and had done at 
 the period of the Edict of Constantine : how it had struck 
 the social life surrounding it near the base of that life ; how 
 it had developed a special type of social life ; how it had 
 made a covenant of sympathy with the poor and the dis- 
 tressed ; how it had put a new value on human life 53-73 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE AGGRESSIVE SOCIAL ACTION OF THE CHURCH 
 
 — continued. 
 
 A new era for Church and for Empire. The religious and 
 social position of the Church at the beginning of the tenth 
 century. A glance back to the Dark Ages. The Empire a 
 Christian Power, with the exception of a brief period, from 
 
xii Co7itents. 
 
 the day of Constantine's peace. Justinian's Code and 
 Institutes. Efforts among Barbarians, and the influence 
 of these efforts. Church development on lines parallel to 
 those of the Empire. The growth of the Papacy. The 
 Frankish- Roman Empire. Charlemagne and the Carlovin- 
 gian dynasty. The climax of Papal assumption, and the 
 subordination of State to Church. The situation in the 
 Middle Ages. The Middle Ages full of contradictions. 
 Feudalism in the first instance a social rather than a political 
 development. The relation of the Church to feudalism. 
 Monachism : its history ; its spread. Orders of monks. 
 The debt of civilisation to the religious orders. The abuse 
 of Monachism, and its decline and corruption. The decline 
 of the Papacy. Europe awakening. A day of the Lord. 
 The retrospect, and the features and issues which it has 
 indicated ...... 74-9^ 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 NATIONAL CHURCHllS AND THEIR SOCIAL WORK. 
 
 The Catholicity of the Church allowing for diversities. Afifini- 
 ties of race and blood. No difficulty in combining diver- 
 sities with the idea of the one Church in the early period of 
 Christianity. But complications in later periods. The 
 tendency to uniformity in rule and ritual developing as the 
 Papal power developed. Change in the plan of the aggress- 
 ive work of the Church. Frictions of frequent occurrence. 
 The schism between the East and the West. The national 
 spirit in the British Isles— more marked than in Continental 
 countries. The immemorial nationality of the Church in 
 England. The nationality of the Church in Scotland. The 
 Celtic Church organised according to Celtic ideas, and not 
 according to Roman. Queen Margaret and her work. 
 King David and his work. The nationality evidenced in 
 characteristic Scottish fashion. The parochial economy : 
 
Contents. xiii 
 
 its origin and growth. Tithes, a religious obh'gation officially 
 recognised. Allotment of tithes. The division and endow- 
 ment of parishes both in England and in Scotland obscure. 
 The National Churches not mere State Churches. Number 
 of parishes in England at the Reformation. Number in 
 Scotland ...... 97-114 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 NATIONAL REFORMED CHURCHES — THE CHURCH 
 OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 The endeavour towards re-formation. Dangers attendant on 
 this endeavour. The isolating tendency. How the Re- 
 formers endeavoured to counteract it. The catholicity of 
 the Reformation. The conception of a world-wide fellow- 
 ship in the Second Book of Discipline. But the growth of 
 the centrifugal tendency. The equipment of the Protestant 
 National Church of Scotland and its work. The condition 
 of the Scottish people at the time of the Reformation. The 
 constitution of the Church: its scanty resources; its ideality. 
 The fourfold action of the Scottish Church on social life. 
 Testimony borne as to its service. The hindrance to its 
 efficiency occasioned by the rapid growth of population in 
 the nineteenth century. Efforts to multiply agency inter- 
 rupted by the Disruption. But one issue of Disruption a 
 vast addition to religious machinery. Sir James Graham's 
 Act. Professor James Robertson. The Endowment 
 Scheme. New parishes. Extensions of ministry. The 
 result of all the activity. The duty and opportunity of a 
 National Church ..... 1 15-133 
 
XIV Contents, 
 
 PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PRi:SENT-DAV PROBLEMS : POPULATION AND PAUPERISM. 
 
 Review of previous part of volume. Change of venue. In- 
 crease of population previously referred to. Forecasts 
 founded on this increase. The contention of Malthus that 
 the tendency is to multiply beyond the means of subsistence. 
 This kind of prophesying may be dismissed. But there 
 should be a wise providence of mind. Malthusian checks 
 on increase. Preventions to be desiderated. The opposi- 
 tion of the two poles of civilisation. Aggregate wealth : in 
 the United States of America ; in Great Britain. Against 
 this may be put the awful prevalence of poverty. Estimates 
 of pauper population : Mr C. Booth's ; Local Government 
 Boards'. Pauperism decreasing. Effect of Poor Law. 
 The action of the Church superseded. Experiment of Dr 
 Chalmers in Glasgow. Change of feeling as to parochial 
 relief. Administrative methods. Two classes specially 
 appealing to compassion. Old age pensions. Pension 
 funds. Much in administration of statutory relief that is 
 unsatisfactory. But room for judicious benevolence in 
 connexion with it . , . . . 135-163 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PRESENT-DAY PROBLEMS I POVERTY AND ITS 
 CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 Poverty not to be measured by pauperism. Statistics of Mr 
 Booth as to population in London between the lines of want 
 and poverty. The question to be considered by the Church. 
 Need of investigation into the causes of poverty. The 
 
Contents, xv 
 
 distribution of charity. Focussing of charities needed. 
 Charity organisation societies. The opportunity for National 
 Churches. Poverty cannot be dissociated from the features 
 of social life. Some habits and circumstances with which 
 it connects. First, intemperance. The amount of poverty 
 directly attributable to intemperance. But, indirectly, what 
 a vast amount ! The sum expended on alcoholic liquors. 
 What can be done? The pioneers of temperance reform. 
 Two points: (i) The personal duty of Christians; (2) the 
 action of the citizenship or State with regard to the traffic 
 in intoxicants. The Royal Commission on Licensing Laws : 
 Majority and minority reports. The duty of Christian 
 citizenship. Lord Peel and the minority report — the basis 
 of a new National Covenant. Counter-attractions. Second, 
 the housing of the people. The housing of the lower side 
 of the population, Glasgow. The Glasgow corporation. 
 Three kinds of agency to deal with houses. Two desiderata 
 as to housing to be pressed. The home as, more than the 
 house, the special sphere of Christian ministry . 164-195 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PRESENT-DAY PROBLEMS : LABOUR AND THi: COMMON- 
 WEALTH — SOCIALISM. 
 
 A protest, interpreting Socialistic opinion. The term Socialism. 
 Denoting ideas that have found some expression in all 
 times, but gained in force during the nineteenth century. 
 Preparations for them. Utilitarians of the earlier period. 
 Utilitarianism. The wretched condition of many, evidenced 
 by Bread and Chartist Riots. The introduction of steam- 
 power, and its results. The rush from the country into the 
 towns. Children hawking in streets. Karl Marx. Social- 
 istic organisations, Labour Leagues, &c. Need to dis- 
 criminate. I. Socialism and democracy. 2. Socialism 
 and communism. 3. Socialism and endeavours to reduce 
 
xvi Contents. 
 
 inequalities. 4. Socialism and extension of powers of State. 
 Laissez faire abandoned. An ethical character conceded 
 to the State. Powers of Stale more freely used to promote 
 social happiness. But socialism more than this. What 
 is it? . . . . . . 196-221 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE POSITIONS OF SOCIALISM. 
 
 The great variety of societies. But the common idea. Modern 
 socialism. Attractive, at many points, to earnest men, who 
 yet have no fellowship with its ulterior aims. State- 
 ments relative to socialism differ. Dr Schaffle referred 
 to as an authority. His exposition. The Fabian Society 
 publications. Karl Marx. An attitude of scepticism 
 must be assumed, as to the views and tenets on labour, 
 land, capital. First, The labour question "the burning 
 question of the Europe of to-day." The assertion that 
 "labour is the source of all wealth" criticised. The 
 measurement of value by manual labour criticised. The 
 right of the labourer to the vvliole produce of the labour 
 criticised. Second, Property in land — " Private property is 
 theft" — a fundamental principle. Two points to be made. 
 Is the distinction between land and other material — viz., 
 that land is God's gift to all, and therefore not property, but 
 that the fruit of labour is not gift but property — ^justified ? 
 And, Is the right of property a right to abuse as well as 
 use? Differences in socialistic theories as to land. The 
 nationalisation of land : how is it to be carried out ? Third, 
 Capital. Socialism a revolt against selfishness in capitalists. 
 But all capitalists not selfish. All capitalists not million- 
 aires. Capital represents the investing of any sum in means 
 or instruments of production. Facilities for realising shares 
 in business profits desirable. But difficulties in the way. 
 The reduction of the personal element in the relations of 
 employer and employe, by syndicates on the one hand, 
 
Contents. xvii 
 
 and trades-unions on the other. Competition pronounced 
 the curse of civilisation. Emulation offered as its substitute. 
 Would it be a substitute? Co-operation : a Christian idea. 
 The growth of co-operative societies. But socialism would 
 make co-operation a compulsory method by which all re- 
 sults are to be realised. Socialism takes little account of 
 the wealth and variety of the elements of civilisation • 222-259 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MORAL AND RELIGIOUS ASPECTS OF SOCIALISM. 
 
 Socialism cannot be regarded merely as an economic system. 
 Its claim is that the polity is the morality. Its moral and 
 religious bearing must be considered. First, the spirit of 
 discontent which it fosters. It has an international propa- 
 ganda. Thus, the influence of Continental and American 
 sentiment is communicated, and, although views of an 
 extreme character are not widely received, thought is 
 coloured by them. The passion for equality. Equality of 
 condition and personal merit inconsistent standards. A 
 right and a wrong discontent. Second, the relation of 
 socialistic systems to the moral law. Systems often adhered 
 to by those whose moral attitudes are right. But tenden- 
 cies relating to the family need to be watched. Socialism 
 meets one selfishness by developing another. Its brother- 
 hood too much a class brotherhood. It does not sufficiently 
 realise the need of personal regeneration. Third, the hos- 
 tility frequently expressed to the worship and the ministry 
 of the Church. The root of this a radical divergence from 
 the religious ideal. Earthliness in prospect and in motive. 
 Labour-churches. The duty of the Church towards social- 
 ism. The Church must make its aim fully manifest. 
 Patience is required. Sympathy and co-operation in all 
 honest effort are required. Study of social life required. 
 The Church should be cautious in pronouncements on special 
 issues. The outflow of a spiritual force needed . 260-283 
 
x\'iii Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 social-i:thical trmxds. 
 
 Tenflcncics of thought in which sympathy with some of the 
 ideas embodied in socialism is expressed. First, work, 
 with a moral end, the mark of worth and dignity. 
 Kuskin's distinction between work and play. Carlyle 
 and his Gospel of Work. The two men, and no third, 
 whom he recognises. A new ethical ambition stimulated. 
 Second, the ethics of wealth. Wealth a problem as well 
 as poverty. How is it made? used? distributed? Com- 
 mercial immoralities. The office of wealth. Waste of 
 wealth is sin. Responsibility to God and to society for its 
 administration. Another view given by Ruskin. His 
 attack on political economists. His distinction between 
 wealth, money, and riches. His principle that life is wealth. 
 A conception which has infused an ethical element into 
 political science. Third, the Altruism of the day. Comte 
 and Comtism. Altruism has its religion in itself. But, 
 sometimes, it has a religious hue. Count Tolstoy and 
 Tolstoyism. The influence of these ethical trends apparent 
 in the politics of the day. The promise of a harmonious 
 development of national life. Pessimistic views. But the 
 character of dominating ideals and aims is a hopeful 
 sign ....... 284-307 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Tin-: SOCIAL WOKK 01 THE CHURCH IN THE PRESENT DAY. 
 
 Internal rectifications as well as external readjustments needed. 
 Attacks on Churches as having neglected their temporal 
 mission. The answer to this partly in former chapters. 
 In Scotland, the Church has been in the front rather than in 
 the rear of the onward march. The many social impulses 
 
Contents. xix 
 
 given by the older race of parish ministers. In the more 
 modern time, social utilities promoted by churchmen, and 
 by agencies of churches. Signs of increasing social activity. 
 The social and the spiritual cannot be absolutely separated. 
 Evangelism and philanthropy. Some instances of organisa- 
 tions aiming at social reformation cited. These settlements 
 bring the more cultured and opulent into direct touch with 
 the needs of the poorer population. They interpret also the 
 breadth of the Christian spirit. Labour colonies. The 
 Salvation Army 3o8-330 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 EFFECTUAL CHURCH MINISTRY. 
 
 The Church represents a faith, a society, a propaganda. First, 
 it holds a faith in trust for the good of man. The spread 
 of socialism said to be a token of the decline of religion. 
 Not so. But a decline of Church authority. How can the 
 scepticism as to the message of the Church be disarmed ? 
 The part of the answer, relevant to the matter in view, is 
 that the victory must be the victory of faith. One reason 
 for any failure may be uncertainty in the belief of the 
 Church. Reflected in the hesitancy of its voice. The 
 teaching may want in strength, and it may want in wisdom. 
 No reason more widely operative than the separation be- 
 tween the faith and the conduct of Christians. Second, the 
 Church a society, whose calling is to represent its social life 
 to mankind, and to train and give direction to the spirit of 
 citizenship. The evidence of its calling obscured by divisions. 
 Unities in spite of divisions. But the existing outward 
 condition of the Church hinders the effect of its action. 
 Unity in action. Four points essential to this indicated. 
 Third, such union would give new momentum to the social 
 propaganda of the Church. It would develop aggressive 
 work, and make Church life more complete. The desire 
 for complete life and order evidenced in England and in 
 
XX Contents. 
 
 Scotland. The Commission on the Religious Condition of 
 the People. All Church life is marked by three purposes t 
 (i) To make the house of God more hospitable; (2) to 
 develop, not mere agency, but the contact of person with 
 person ; (3) to call forth all resources of energy and vitality. 
 " The rights of man and the rights of God." The fulfilment 
 of the Church's social mission . . . 33^-357 
 
 INDKX ....... 358 
 
PART I. 
 
 THE SOCIAL VOCATION OF THE 
 CHURCH 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 CARDINAL POINTS, 
 
 In any survey of the civilisation which we dis- 
 tinguish as Christian, the three features which 
 most distinctly impress the mind are — the 
 development of the individual, the constitution 
 and influence of civic societies, and the action 
 of the moral and spiritual forces which it is the 
 mission of the Church to propagate. Our study 
 is, in the main, that of the frictions between 
 these constituents, in consequence of which well- 
 being is hindered, and of the efforts to reduce 
 such frictions and to promote the reciprocity of 
 service that is essential to the building up of a 
 community in truth and in justice. 
 
 The unit in social life is the individual. He is 
 more than a unit indeed ; he is also a unity : a 
 small world, but still a world, with the separate- 
 ness in character, in aptitudes, in resources, which 
 we denote by the term individuality. Hence the 
 
4 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 difficulty in adjusting his place and claim with 
 the demands of the body politic, which is his 
 environment. The battle of liberty has turned 
 on the issue, What are his rights ? What is his 
 due ? How can personal freedom be harmonised 
 with social order ? The century which has 
 closed is remarkable for the earnestness with 
 which this issue has been regarded, and for the 
 efforts towards a more complete solution of it 
 which have been made. 
 
 In the background of all such endeavours is 
 the question as to rights which may be called 
 natural. The state of nature, on which towards 
 the beginning of last century so much eloquence 
 was expended, is little better than an imagina- 
 tion.^ The savage, free and independent, existed 
 only when the savage was a solitary. When 
 men formed into companies or tribes inter- 
 ferences with liberty began, and the equality of 
 all was impossible. These interferences were the 
 accompaniment of civilisation. If w^e go back to 
 the early periods of civilised life we find the vast 
 majority in thraldom : men were supervised and 
 controlled at every step of their existence. Their 
 
 ^ Brissot, Mably, Rousseau, maintained that the primitive con- 
 dition of men was one of equality ; that individuals had no exclusive 
 rights of property; that the right of every person to the use of 
 the earth was determined by his need. 
 
The Rights of the Individual. 5 
 
 right to live was conditioned on an obligation 
 to serve. And in the history of Great Britain, 
 even to a comparatively recent date, the area of 
 freedom allowed to the unit was circumscribed by 
 minute and often vexatious regulations.^ Society 
 took the individual in hand, and allowed him only 
 so much as it judged to be for the advantage of 
 the governing classes or the supposed good of the 
 State. Our conceptions have been widened. We 
 now recognise that in human nature there is a 
 charter of freedom for every one, and that every 
 one born into citizenship is entitled to the oppor- 
 tunity of exercising and fulfilling his capacities, 
 intellectual, moral, and volitional. None can be 
 regarded as only instruments for the furtherance 
 of ends in which they have themselves no direct 
 share : the object of all legislation, the trend of 
 all social action, is in the direction of enlarging 
 the spaces of personal energy, of placing tools, 
 means of production, within the reach of all, 
 and protecting all in the enjoyment of at least 
 a portion of the fruits of their labour. And since 
 the individual is a moral agent, with an ethical 
 consciousness which witnesses to an eternally 
 right and wrong, the aim of political endeavour 
 has been to liberate the conscience from all that 
 
 ^ E.g., Enactments as to games, prices, clothing, wages, cove- 
 nants, &c. 
 
6 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 shackles it, so that the soul may be free to follow 
 the voice which it recognises as the voice of 
 truth, and to work out its own salvation. 
 
 But the freedom which is indispensable to 
 the completion of personal life can be secured 
 only through the organisation of social life. The 
 individual neither lives to himself nor lives by 
 himself. " By nature," said Aristotle, " man is 
 a social creature." It is by his action on others 
 and their reaction on him, by his affinities or 
 antipathies, by his relations of many kinds, that he 
 knows himself, that he expands, that he realises 
 his selfhood. It may be true that "all men seek 
 their own." But two qualifying considerations 
 are also true. The one is, that each man needs to 
 be protected from such a seeking of their own 
 by others as shall be an injury to him, and that 
 others need to be protected from such a seeking 
 of his own by each man as shall be an injury 
 to them. Self-love is a legitimate motive ; but, 
 without imposing restraints that may impair its 
 vigour, the rankness which makes it basely selfish 
 must be eliminated. And the other consideration 
 is, that men cannot have their own apart from the 
 co-operation of their neighbour. All that can be 
 regarded as the property of a person is not only a 
 wealth made and possessed by him ; it also repre- 
 sents a wealth to which many have contributed. 
 
The Organisation of Social Life. 7 
 
 Thus, as John Stuart Mill has put it, " the 
 social state is at once so natural, so necessary, 
 and so habitual to man, that, except in some un- 
 usual circumstances, or by an effort of voluntary 
 abstraction, he never conceives himself otherwise 
 than as a member of a body; and this asso- 
 ciation is riveted more and more as mankind 
 are further removed from the state of savage 
 independence." ^ 
 
 Society, then, is the second of the chief con- 
 stituents of civilisation. Its design is, or should 
 be, not to exploit but to complete the individual ; 
 so to connect, co - ordinate, and discipline all 
 powers and energies that the members in par- 
 ticular, whilst contributing to a common wealth, 
 shall at the same time be enabled to perfect their 
 own life.^ It imposes checks on individualism, 
 which without such checks would degenerate into 
 anarchy. It represents order; but order is the 
 guardian of liberty, the object at which it aims 
 being that neither shall a man work ill to his 
 neighbour nor shall his neighbour work ill to him, 
 that rights shall be balanced by duties, and that 
 
 ^ Utilitarianism, cliap. iii. pp. 46, 47. 
 
 ^ " Man does not at first naturally think of himself as an inde- 
 pendent individual, but rather as part of a system, and this system 
 may, in a very real sense, be called a self, since it is the universe to 
 which the individual refers the conduct of his life." — Mackenzie, 
 Manual of Ethics, p. 117. 
 
8 The Social Vocation of the Ch7trch. 
 
 by the maintenance of this balance the welfare of 
 the whole and the welfare of the unit shall be har- 
 monised. " A society can have no happiness 
 which is not the happiness of its separate mem- 
 bers, any more than an edition of ' Hamlet ' can 
 have any dramatic qualities which do not exist 
 between the covers of each separate copy. In 
 this respect social science presents an absolute 
 contrast to physical. The physical unit is of in- 
 terest to us only for the sake of the aggregate. 
 The social aggregate is of interest to us only for 
 the sake of the unit."^ 
 
 The most modern of sciences is that of Soci- 
 ology — ''the science of the origin, growth, and 
 welfare of the collective life of mankind." During 
 the nineteenth century, and largely owing to 
 the impulse given by Comte, scientific form was 
 given to what was previously an undigested 
 mass of information and observation as to the 
 history of man. An attentive survey of the 
 successive civilisations in which the evolution of 
 society is traced warranted generalisations; and, 
 though the knowledge of all the hnks in the 
 succession is still wanting, the purpose fulfilling 
 through the ages, and even the process by which 
 the purpose is being accomplished, are now more 
 evident. Not only have phenomena been system- 
 
 ^ Mallock, Contemporary Review, 1895, p. 890. 
 
Sttbjects i^elating to Organised Social Life, g 
 
 atised ; principles and laws which bear on both 
 the present and the future have been expounded. 
 And more and more these, with their applications 
 and relevant issues, are studied. For the tend- 
 ency of the most earnest thought and action of 
 the day is social. The most inspiring ideals are 
 social. *' The social question is the religious 
 question." Many causes of many kinds con- 
 tribute to the investiture of subjects bearing on 
 the constitution and the methods of organised 
 social life with a paramount importance. 
 
 These subjects connect with the domains of 
 economics and politics, but they are not on 
 this account to be regarded as outwith the pur- 
 view of a treatise which especially regards the 
 work of the Church. It may be argued that 
 the sphere of the Church is ethical rather than 
 economic, whereas the sphere of social science is 
 economic rather than ethical. This may be so : 
 the main line of reference in both cases may be 
 correctly stated ; but sciences or agencies which 
 refer to human wellbeing must include, directly 
 or indirectly, man's condition at all its points. 
 Their ultimate aim is practical — the improvement 
 and elevation of man's estate. And whatever 
 affects one or another class of facts relating to 
 this, whatever appeals to one or another side of 
 the complex human nature, whatever is occupied 
 
lo The Social Vocation of the Chtirch. 
 
 with one or another series of relations, impinges 
 necessarily on all other classes, sides, and series. 
 No hard-and-fast line can be drawn between 
 ethics and economics. If we are bent on ascer- 
 taining and promoting the conditions of a healthy 
 collectivism, it is not too much to say that we 
 shall find the most vital of these conditions to be 
 ethical. So inevitable and constant is the glance 
 of sociology towards moral standards, qualities, 
 ideals, that it has been not unfitly described as 
 "ethics applied to the economic situation." 
 
 The ethical reference suggests the third of the 
 factors of Christian civilisation — the Church. To 
 overlook the influence which the Church has 
 exercised on the social life of the past nineteen 
 centuries is impossible ; to depreciate that influ- 
 ence is to oppose the verdict of history. Opinions 
 may vary as to the causes of the spread of 
 Christianity and the reasons of the hold which it 
 obtained on nations ; they may vary in the judg- 
 ment formed on the means and methods of its 
 diffusion ; they may vary in their estimate of the 
 extent of the benefit conferred on the peoples 
 which have come under its sway : but the reality 
 and vastness of its power cannot with fairness be 
 challenged. For long, it worked under the sur- 
 face of society with, as we may say, " a secret 
 band." Silently, as compared with other systems^ 
 
The Chitrch and Humanity, 1 1 
 
 it leavened the lump. Then it emerged as a force 
 which had undermined the heathenism of the 
 Roman Empire, and had penetrated into regions 
 beyond. A new type of brotherhood, with prin- 
 ciples and laws of cohesion permeated by a new 
 ideality, was established, and the world under- 
 stood that the Galilean had conquered. M. 
 Guizot reminds us that in civilisation there is 
 " a something more " than individual interests, 
 than political combinations, than racial develop- 
 ments, than social power and happiness, — there is 
 humanity.^ It is this "something more" which 
 the Church has not only emphasised, but, it may 
 be said, in view of the amplitudes given to it, 
 has created. In its preaching of Christ to the 
 world it declared Him to be the archetypal 
 humanity, in Whom is the life which is the 
 light of men, and in union with Whom local and 
 tribal distinctions are only as the differing notes 
 of a perfect harmony. Lacordaire was not a 
 mere rhetorician when he declared that the first 
 Church of Jesus Christ was humanity. The 
 consummation for which the Church prays and 
 strives is a redeemed and glorified humanity, the 
 former things — sorrow, pain, sin, death — having 
 passed away. And through the ages its testi- 
 mony, not so full and clear as it should have 
 
 ^ History of Civilisation in Europe, Lecture I, 
 
12 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 been, but still audible in the midst of the 
 struggles, the fevers, the ambitions, of social life, 
 has always been, " Justice, righteousness, love, are 
 the crowning features of the humanity which is in 
 God's image, and the chief elements in the real 
 wealth of nations." 
 
 It has been observed that '* there is no one 
 word which, from the variety of acceptations, 
 hath bred greater difference in the Church of 
 God than the word Church."^ In the pages of 
 this book the word is employed in its least 
 controversial sense. We are not concerned 
 with articles of faith, with creeds and confes- 
 sions, with disputes relating either to doctrine 
 or to government. We hold with Hooker when, 
 after referring to ''schisms, factions, and such 
 other evils whereunto the body of the Church 
 is subject," he adds, " Sound and sick remain 
 both of the same body, so long as both parts 
 retain by outward profession that vital sub- 
 stance of truth which maketh Christian religion 
 to differ from theirs w^hich acknowledge not our 
 Lord Jesus Christ the blessed Saviour of man- 
 kind, give no credit to His glorious Gospel, and 
 have His sacraments, the seals of eternal life, 
 in derision." 2 it was the faith of which Jesus 
 
 ^ Covel's Defence of Hooker, art. xi. 
 
 ' Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, vol. ii. pp. 302, 303, 
 
The Social Service of the Chtirch. 13 
 
 Christ is ''the author and perfcctcr " that, 
 after its introduction, revolutionised the spirit 
 of the societies and commonwealths into which 
 it penetrated, and finally moulded the ethical 
 ideals of Europea^n civilisation. And the point 
 specially in evidence is, that this faith was pro- 
 pagated by means of an institution, with laws 
 and officers and ordinances peculiar to itself, 
 for which the authority of Christ and the guid- 
 ance of the Spirit of truth Whom Christ had 
 promised were claimed. Under the name of 
 the Church we shall comprehend " every such 
 politic society of men as did and doth in re- 
 ligion hold that truth which is proper to Christ- 
 ianity." ^ Our outlook shall be, not ecclesiastical 
 constitution and history, but the social service 
 of the Christian collectivism. On the more 
 spiritual work and results of the Church we 
 shall not dwell, the purpose being to indicate 
 the relation of Christian ethics and disciplines 
 to the evolution and manifestation of the life 
 of man, or, as otherwise it may be stated, to the 
 betterment of the individual as well as of society. 
 In the elucidation of its theme, this treatise 
 divides into two parts. In the one part, the 
 Church is in the foreground, and the topics 
 considered will be, its social vocation, its aggres- 
 
 ^ Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, vol. iii. p. 253. 
 
14 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 sive action on civic societies, the position and 
 influence of National Churches, especially the 
 National Church of Scotland. In the other 
 part, the social life of Great Britain is in the 
 foreground : its problems, burdens, moral and 
 political trends, will be dealt with, and the 
 reference to the Church will bear on its attitude 
 towards the issues thus presented, and its en- 
 deavour to meet the exigencies of the situation 
 by which it is confronted. The subject is one 
 of great and varied interest — too vast, indeed, 
 to be adequately considered within the limits 
 which must be observed. All that can be an- 
 ticipated or aimed at is a consideration which, 
 though necessarily incomplete, shall be candid, 
 honest, inspired by a sincere desire to know and 
 express "whatsoever things" connected with it 
 " are true, whatsoever things are honourable, 
 whatsoever things are just." It cannot be 
 affirmed that in the thought and the utterance 
 there is no bias : let it be frankly allowed 
 that there is, and that the bias is in the direc- 
 tion of Bishop Westcott's saying, "The proof 
 of Christianity which is prepared by God, as I 
 believe, for our times is a Christian society filled 
 with one spirit in two forms — Righteousness 
 and Love."i 
 
 ^ The Incarnation and Common Life. 
 
15 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHRIST'S TEACHING. 
 
 ** All Human Society," writes Dean Church, 
 '' is the receptacle, nursery, and dwelling-place of 
 ideas, shaped and limited according to the nature 
 of the society — ideas which live and act on it and 
 in it ; which are preserved, passed on, and trans- 
 mitted from one generation to another; which 
 would be merely abstractions or individual opinions 
 if they were not endowed with the common life 
 which their reception in a society gives them." ^ 
 Now, with reference to the Church, the inquiry 
 which the truth contained in these words suggests 
 is. What are the ideas, principles, aims which 
 have found a home in it, which have received a 
 special determination, and, in accordance with 
 this determination, have been made effective by 
 its corporate action, which have been propagated 
 from generation to generation, aglow with the life 
 
 1 Oxford House Papers, No. xvii. 
 
1 6 The Social Vocation of the Church, 
 
 imparted to them by their assimilation to the 
 thoughts, and their enforcement by the energies, 
 of living men ? It is an inquiry whose range is far 
 more extensive than the purpose of this treatise 
 necessitates or warrants. We must exclude from 
 our purview theology and ritual, except in so far as 
 they bear on the subjects to which we are limited 
 — the truths and influences embodied in the 
 Church, through whose operation currents of 
 sympathy have been formed, manners and morals 
 have been moulded, higher types of unity have 
 been constituted, and the conditions both of 
 communal and of individual life have been 
 elevated. The points of such investigation are 
 included in the phrase, the social vocation of the 
 Church ; and the three lines along which it is 
 proposed that this investigation shall proceed are, 
 this vocation as interpreted, first, in the teaching 
 or the mind of Christ ; second, in the character 
 and obligations of the Church's election ; and 
 third, in the conceptions which dominate the 
 Christian consciousness and are the perennial 
 springs of the Christian inspiration. The first of 
 these interpretative topics will be the subject of 
 this chapter. 
 
 In the Gospels, Jesus, the ''teacher come from 
 God," is set before us with a Jewish environment. 
 A nation or people appropriates its units. To 
 
Christ's recognition of the Jewish Polity. 17 
 
 the units the nation marks an inheritance *' of 
 aptitudes, stored materials, a thousand and one 
 traditions of the past." Jesus did not renounce 
 this inheritance. On the contrary, he accepted 
 it. He observed the national customs. He kept 
 the national festivals. He began his ministry by 
 reading from the scroll of Isaiah. He pointed 
 to the ancient Scriptures as the verification 
 of His Messiahship. He wept over Jerusalem, 
 and exclaimed through His tears, " How often 
 would I have gathered thy children together ! " ^ 
 All that made the core and inner truth of 
 Israel's corporate existence was recognised in 
 His doctrine. It was only the shell which had 
 guarded the kernel '' until the time of the re- 
 formation " that was set aside; the kernel itself 
 was conserved, in order that it might be completed 
 and glorified. '' Think not," He protests, " that 
 I came to destroy the Law and the Prophets : I 
 came not to destroy, but to fulfil." ^ 
 
 His Church, therefore, is the heir to all that, as 
 distinguished from the merely dispensational, is 
 divinely true in the old Jewish polity. Now the 
 divinely true thing in it was the idea of a social 
 order based on righteousness, on "doing justly, 
 loving mercy, and walking humbly with God." ^ 
 The Church and the nation were not regarded as 
 
 1 St Mat. xxiii. 37. 2 g^ ]^jat_ y_ J7_ 3 Micah vi. 8. 
 
 B 
 
1 8 The Social Vocation of the Chttrch. 
 
 two separate factors in the national life. They 
 were regarded as one. The kingdom was a 
 kingdom of priests. It was bound together by 
 divine laws, and by a worship which consecrated 
 all the aspects of life. Every Jew was called to 
 realise that he was a member of a consecrated 
 nationality — bound to it, to every other member 
 of it, and, with every other member, to Jehovah. 
 Was not Israel Jehovah's " son," His first-born, 
 His peculiar treasure? To be faithful to Him, 
 to keep His laws, and be loyal to the brotherly 
 covenant, was the one imperative obligation of 
 citizenship. The consequence of this mystical 
 humanism was, and to this day — " scattered and 
 peeled " though the Jewish race may be — is, an 
 intense solidarity, and, within the tribal limits, a 
 fervent and vigorous social life. Under the theo- 
 cracy, there were approximations to democratic 
 equalities. The provisions of the Law did not 
 expressly prohibit, but they softened, the harsher 
 features of class and grade. Underlying them 
 was the sense of an inalienable reverence that was 
 due to the person of man or woman ; and in many 
 peculiar enactments, such as those of the jubilee 
 (perhaps never fully observed) — liberations from 
 servile condition were contemplated. It was held 
 that every unit of the sacred nationality was en- 
 titled to the care of the State. The poor were 
 
Jewish and Christian Ideals of Society. 1 9 
 
 to be helped, the infirm and aged were to be 
 treated with pity. Even the stranger within the 
 gates had his rights. Nor was the responsibihty 
 one-sided. If the community, as a whole, placed 
 itself behind its members, its members were 
 reared and trained in the sense of their duty to 
 the community. The male child in earliest in- 
 fancy received the seal of membership. Through 
 the family he obtained his place in the nation. 
 By means of the family discipline he was educated 
 in the life of citizenship. The honouring of father 
 and mother was emphasised as the condition of 
 material as well as spiritual prosperity,^ of foun- 
 tains playing on a land of corn and wine, and of 
 heavens dropping down dew. Thus a fellowship 
 was established whose first commandment was, 
 " Love Jehovah, thy God, with all thy might," 
 and whose second commandment, like to the 
 first, was, " Love thy neighbour as thyself." 
 
 Now, all this was assumed by Christ and passed 
 on by Him to His organised discipleship. There 
 was no need to make a brand-new ideal of society; 
 the ideal was there, requiring only to be separated 
 from racial exclusiveness, from a ceremonial which 
 had outlived its day, and from a dead-weight of 
 traditionalism which had obscured its beauty, 
 and, thus separated, to obtain ampler outlines, 
 
 ^ Exod. XX. 12. 
 
20 TJie Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 freer expression, and a more efficient internal 
 dynamic. This Jesus did, and in Him the 
 ancient social order lives, risen again and ful- 
 filled in the kingdom of God, which it is the 
 mission of His Church to realise on the earth. 
 The originality of His teaching did not consist 
 in the saying of new things, or the propounding 
 of new truths. '' He taught as one having 
 authority, and not as the scribes," and, in re- 
 spect both of their form and of their content. 
 His utterances expressed what was incompre- 
 hensible to men " whose hearts had waxed 
 gross." But that which He taught was old, 
 inasmuch as it was of God, who is from ever- 
 lasting. "My teaching," He testified, "is not 
 Mine, but His that sent Me." ^ '' I do nothing of 
 Myself, but as the Father taught Me, I speak 
 these things."^ Although, being of God, His 
 doctrine was hidden from " the princes of this 
 world," yet there had been, in all the times and 
 in all the counsels of the truly wise, scintillations 
 of the light which was lustrous in Him — '' the 
 Light which lighteth every man coming into the 
 world "^ — the Light which was especially lumin- 
 ous in the people whose Judge, whose Lawgiver, 
 whose King was Jehovah. Jesus interpreted the 
 truth into which holy prophets since the world 
 
 ^ St John vii. i6. - St John viii. 28. ^ St John i. 9. 
 
The Originality of Christ's Teaching. 21 
 
 began had searched, but which He saw in the 
 Father. He was, He is, the Truth. His words 
 are wonderful flashes, in which God is revealed to 
 man as the Father, and man is revealed to himself 
 as the son, and individual men, sharers in this 
 sonship, as brethren. In the universes of thought 
 which they open, we discern the " altar-stairs 
 sloping through darkness up to God." If, in 
 view of this, we inquire into the secret of the 
 originality, we see that it means the crystallis- 
 ing of scattered rays, the unifying of mind and 
 will by the knowledge which is life eternal ; the 
 newness gained by the disclosure of the centre to 
 which all the lines of the eternally good and true 
 converge ; the newness of irradiated perception, 
 of vitalised energy, of magnificent vistas ; the 
 newness, above all, of the glory beheld in His 
 own personality — the one unique Manhood, full 
 of grace and truth, in whom 
 
 " the Word had breath and wrought 
 With human hands the Creed of Creeds 
 In lovehness of perfect deeds, 
 More strong than all poetic thought." ^ 
 
 Thus, conserving the spirit of the old order by 
 declaring the reality in which it is completed, by 
 disengaging what is vital in it from the outward 
 forms through which the things given of God 
 
 1 In Memoriam, 36. 
 
2 2 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 were adapted io a rudimentary period in the 
 world's education, Christ has unfolded the prin- 
 ciples of all wholesome social evolution. It is 
 true that He connects the seen with the unseen, 
 that he regards human life not so much in its 
 temporal as in its spiritual and eternal aspects. 
 But He connects ; He does not put asunder what 
 His Father had joined together. If He reaches 
 to "the spiritual beyond the natural," He holds 
 " firmly to the natural " in order that He may so 
 reach. M. Renan has argued, and many have 
 similarly argued, '' The aim of Christianity was in 
 no respect the perfecting of human society or the 
 increase of the sum of individual happiness. One 
 does not think of decorating the hovel in which 
 he is to remain for only a moment." ^ Is not this 
 a travesty of Christ's Christianity ? To Him, the 
 earth is never a hovel. In it, He sees His Father's 
 house. Its sights and sounds have an inexpress- 
 ible charm to His eye. Its duties and demands 
 are enforced alike by His precepts and His ex- 
 ample. "The whole temporal show is related" 
 to the spiritual, not in a poor way, but " royally 
 and built up to eterne significance through the 
 open arms of God."^ The more vividly this 
 royal relation is realised, the more fully. He tells 
 
 ^ Quoted in Prof. Bruce's 'Kingdom of God,' p. 131. 
 - Aurora Leigh, Book 7, 
 
The Sermon on the Mount. 23 
 
 us, will the significance of all life and of all the 
 facts of life be discerned. It is the vocation of 
 His disciple to aim at perfection, at the perfecting 
 of man's estate in the situation and in the circum- 
 stances which are present to him, and thus to 
 " make the heaven he hopes indeed his home." 
 
 Let us see how this, the social trend of Christ's 
 doctrine, is illustrated in the discourse which is 
 frequently cited as " the ethical manifesto of 
 Jesus." The two questions in connexion with 
 which the substance of the Sermon on the 
 Mount ^ may be summarised are, What is the 
 good to be desired as the chief end of human 
 endeavour ? and. What is the conduct by means 
 of which this end is to be attained ? 
 
 The answer to these questions is explicit. 
 
 Christ's siniunum homiin is the Old Testament 
 ideal which the prophets of Israel had expounded, 
 but freed from the limitations under which it was 
 presented *' to them of old time," and clothed 
 with a higher force and authority. The com- 
 mandment, " Seek first the kingdom of God and 
 His righteousness," gives a law of life which is 
 opposed to aims that begin and end with self, 
 that make a mere selfish earthly gain the domin- 
 ating purpose and interest. It includes a legiti- 
 mate self-love. That a man be true to himself, 
 
 ^ St Mat. v.-vii. 
 
24 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 that he develop his individuality in the aims and 
 preferences which are natural to it, is implied. 
 But the contention is that his real blessedness 
 cannot be found so long as he lives like an iso- 
 lated individual, that it can be found only by 
 harmonising his existence with a divine order 
 which is law for him and for all men. This 
 order is to be his first and supreme care ; the 
 seeking of it in all that marks his opportunity 
 is to be his most strenuous effort. Thus, and 
 thus only, will he prove himself to be the child 
 of that all-loving Father " who maketh His sun 
 to rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain 
 on the just and the unjust." The kingdom of 
 God is the kingdom of the Father, and the 
 righteousness of God, being the righteousness of 
 the Father, can be possessed only in a life filial 
 towards Him and brotherly towards all — the life 
 whose distinguishing features are humility, rever- 
 ence, sincerity, devotion to human wellbeing, self- 
 renouncing, self-sacrificing love. 
 
 Without minutely analysing the elements of the 
 conduct which corresponds to the end thus in- 
 dicated, three points in the sermon of Christ may 
 be noted. First, there is the inner qualification. 
 The Hebrew morality is distinguished from both 
 the Greek and the Roman by the intensity with 
 which it insists on the exercise of the moral 
 
Social and Personal Righteousness. 2 5 
 
 will, on truth in the inward parts, as the prime 
 condition of rectitude. It has a more searching 
 view than that which was possible when the 
 one word to koXov was used to signify both the 
 beautiful and the noble. " The Greek philo- 
 sophers," as it has been observed, " got into 
 trouble through their failure to distinguish be- 
 tween moral conduct and art. When the moral 
 life was regarded as beautiful, they were tempted 
 to look on it as if it were simply an artistic pro- 
 duct." ^ Now Christ, in the first words of this 
 discourse, makes character the foundation of the 
 righteous life. The Beatitudes, in which He 
 sketches the several sides of the happy or blessed 
 man, are not outlines of the merely beautiful ; 
 they are outlines of a goodness which involves 
 denials of self and strenuous moral effort. Sup- 
 plemented by the striking sentences which ex- 
 hibit His claim to the authority of the divine 
 Lawgiver, they pierce ** to the dividing of soul 
 and spirit, and are quick to discern the thoughts 
 and intents of the heart." ^ Further, the attitude 
 of the soul towards the Father, as the object of 
 supreme worship, and towards the neighbour-man 
 in the exercise of benevolence, is depicted as an 
 attitude entirely removed from the self-conscious- 
 ness, the posing for effect, which is the fruitful 
 
 ^ Mackenzie's Manual of Ethics, p. 30. ^ Heb. iv. 12. 
 
26 The Social Vocation of the CJiurcJi. 
 
 source of hypocrisy or part-acting — an attitude of 
 joyous surrender to the holy will of God, of a 
 giving and doing in which the eye is single and 
 through which treasures are "laid up in heaven, 
 where neither moth nor rust doth consume, and 
 where thieves do not break through nor steal." 
 Finally, the principles and references which are 
 to rule all transactions are presented. The life 
 is to be lived frankly in the world, yet the mere 
 lower w^orld-things are not to be the main pros- 
 pect. Happiness is a natural desire, but to pur- 
 sue happiness as the end of action is to lose it. 
 The purity and the liberty of the soul are not to 
 be imperilled by the corrosive influence of carking 
 cares and petty strivings. Food and raiment are 
 things needful ; in the endeavour after what is 
 w^orthiest and noblest they will be added. The 
 tendency to judge others is to be cribbed, cabined, 
 and confined: men should judge themselves rather 
 than their neighbours. For all, the golden rule is 
 to do to others as they would have others do to 
 them. A sordid commercialism is unworthy of 
 the son of God. Let him realise, on the one 
 hand, the brave independence which is the result 
 of a constant dependence on God, and on the 
 other, the responsibilities of the brotherly cove- 
 nant. Let him set his affection, not on what can 
 be won for self, but rather on what self can win 
 
Citizenship in the Kingdom of God. 27 
 
 for others. Let him merge the personal in the 
 social, in the kingdom of the Father. This is the 
 strait gate through which the Christian disciple 
 enters into the amplitude of his inheritance. This 
 is the house-building on the rock, *'firm and sure 
 eternally." This is to be perfect even as the 
 Father in heaven is perfect. This is the law of 
 the brotherhood which Christ, with His emphatic 
 *' Verily, verily I say unto you," proclaims to His 
 follower. 
 
 The Sermon on the Mount epitomises the 
 ethical truth which, in one form or another, is 
 expressed in all Christ's teaching. He in- 
 dividualises, but if He insists on personal 
 repentance, personal faith, personal regenera- 
 tion, it is because this is essential to the 
 realisation of the blessings of the kingdom of 
 God. The end of His calling of men is citizen- 
 ship in this kingdom. Its nature, its condi- 
 tions, its aims, are the subject which pervades 
 His utterance. In His parables. He traces the 
 analogies to it which are "writ large" in the 
 natural world. Baur contended that the king- 
 dom, as held before the Jewish mind by Jesus, 
 was the fulfilment of Israel's theocratic hopes ; 
 and this is so far true. But the idea of the 
 Hebrew theocracy is spiritualised and elevated. 
 Employing figures of speech " understanded by 
 
2 8 The Social Vocation of the Church, 
 
 the people," Jesus speaks of the " sitting down 
 with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob " ; but He 
 describes those who shall sit down as coming 
 from the east and the west and the north and 
 the south, whilst some who claimed the privileges 
 of the seat as the right of their covenant shall 
 be cast out.^ Mere nationality, mere external 
 title. He declares, cannot count. There must 
 be the inward fitness as well as the outward 
 seal — the baptism with the Spirit and the 
 baptism with water. And the theocracy itself, 
 in His representation, is not an exclusive Church- 
 State. It is not a State with such distinct 
 political outlines that men shall be able to 
 exclaim, " Lo, it is there." Neither is it a 
 mere hazy cloudland. He conceives of it as 
 having a visibility, as a society with the tokens 
 and characteristics of a society. But it is free 
 from the complications of human governments 
 and ambitions. It is an ethical commonwealth, 
 descending from God out of heaven that it may 
 pervade and sanctify and enrich all nations and 
 peoples in all their life. It is to take shape 
 in His Church, though, in its full and proper 
 glory, it transcends His Church ; it is to be 
 ever so far revealed that men shall discern what 
 in its nature and in its purpose it is, and that it 
 
 1 St Luke xiii. 29. 
 
The Catholic Character of the Kingdom. 29 
 
 shall draw men towards it, supplying the bonds 
 of an ever-perfecting sympathy, reconciling them 
 to God, and linking them together in the love 
 which is more than mere justice, which is the 
 fulfilling of law. In one of His word-pictures, 
 Jesus compares it to a great supper prepared 
 by a king, to which those who, by covenant 
 position, are bidden will not come — all be- 
 ginning to make excuse. The invitation which 
 they reject is passed to the waifs of street and 
 lane, of highway and hedge, and by the com- 
 pulsions of grace they are brought in that the 
 king's house may be filled.^ In this similitude, 
 the social and catholic character of the king- 
 dom is portrayed. It interprets the supper of 
 humanity — the highest good of life. Poverty is 
 a disintegrating, separatist force. Men, in their 
 poverty, wandering wearily, halt and maimed, 
 in highway and hedge, are called from their 
 isolations into fellowship, into communion with 
 each other, into the common participation of 
 the wealth which is theirs by the gift of God. 
 It was for the establishment of this brother- 
 hood, for the founding of this commonwealth 
 in the house of humanity, that Christ lived, and 
 taught, and suffered, and died. His prospect is 
 that which is sketched in another of His com- 
 
 ^ St Luke xiv. 16-24. 
 
30 TJie Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 parisons — that in which he traces the growth 
 of the grain of mustard-seed, less than all seeds, 
 into the tree greater than herbs, which over- 
 spreads the earth, "so that the birds of the 
 heaven come and lodge in its branches." ^ 
 There is an infinite capacity of expansion to 
 all sorts and conditions of men, to all diversities 
 and developments of life, in the word of Him 
 who is the Word of God and the Son of man. 
 It is not too much to say that " His anthro- 
 pology contains the germ of all manner of social 
 improvement in the earthly life of man." ^ 
 
 1 St Mat. xiii. 31, 32. - The Kingdom of God, p. 131. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE SOCIAL VOCATION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 In the previous chapter, the social aspect of 
 Christ's teaching was indicated. More or less, 
 such an aspect must be impressed on every 
 system of thought which relates to human con- 
 duct ; certainly, in any consideration of the 
 words of Jesus it is impossible to overlook it. 
 But, to recur to a point already glanced at, it 
 is frequently urged that His ethic contemplates 
 the righteousness of the individual rather than 
 that of a corporate body. The assertion is not 
 without justification. It was no part of His 
 plan to interfere with existing political condi- 
 tions. His kingdom was in the world, but it 
 was not of the world. Neither did He come 
 directly into collision with any world-realm, nor 
 did He undertake to regulate matters connected 
 with property and administration or with civil 
 issues between man and man. His purpose was 
 
32 The Social Vocation of the Chtirch. 
 
 to create a social conscience by first purifying 
 and uplifting the standard of the individual con- 
 science. We interpret His mind when we 
 argue, '* Make the members of a community 
 personally righteous, inspire them at least with 
 the feehng that ' Right is right and God is 
 God.' Give them a lofty type of rectitude, and 
 imbue them with a passion for rectitude : in 
 so doing, you lay the axe at the root of all 
 political injustice, and secure the only enduring 
 basis of public morality." But Christ did more 
 than work indirectly, through the regeneration 
 of personal character, towards the improvement 
 of communal life. He had always in His view 
 the formation of a society which should mirror 
 the divine order, the kingdom of God ; a 
 society by whose ministries and in whose mem- 
 bership individual souls should be nourished 
 and strengthened in goodness, and which, '' fitly 
 joined together and compacted by that which 
 every joint supplies," ^ should propagate its ideal 
 in the civic societies surrounding it. Even in 
 the Sermon on the Mount, representing the 
 earlier stage of His teaching, the unity of His 
 disciples is the objective. Looking on them, 
 He said, ''Ye are the salt of the earth." ^ He 
 pointed to the arena of their action, the earth, 
 
 1 Eph. iv. 1 6. - St Mat. v. 13. 
 
The Constitution of Christian Society. 33 
 
 and He reminded them that they are one body 
 called to do one thing — to salt this earth, nay, 
 to be themselves in their unity the salt, mak- 
 ing human life pure and wholesome through 
 the permeation of it by the divine life which 
 He would infuse into them. And, again. He 
 said, "Ye are" (not merely lights to, but in 
 their unity) '' the light of the world. A city 
 set on a hill " (and such a city, a civitas Dei, 
 they are) " cannot be hid. Let your light so 
 shine before men, that they may see your good 
 works, and glorify your Father Who is in 
 heaven." ^ For, Christ knew man. Man needs 
 more than a philosophy however true. He is 
 swayed by the concrete, not the abstract. Plato 
 idealised a republic. His idealisation excites 
 only a speculative interest. His republic is in 
 niibibus. The best object-lesson in righteousness 
 is a society bound to the pursuit and practice 
 of righteousness by its very constitution. This 
 is the character of the society which He organ- 
 ised. Its principle of cohesion is a love which 
 reproduces His love to men. Its vital force is 
 His Spirit dwelling in it as the organism which 
 holds Him the Head. Its purpose is to fill up 
 what is lacking of His sufferings, to articulate 
 His thought, to carry out His will to save 
 ^ St Mat. V. 14, 16. 
 
 c 
 
34 The Social Vocation of the CJuirch. 
 
 men's lives, to be the evidence and the mis- 
 sionary of His kingdom in its two abiding 
 features of Sonship and Brotherhood. 
 
 The Ecdesia, the Church, is not a mere associ- 
 ation of persons having a common cult and re- 
 solving to diffuse their faith and worship. It 
 is not made by them, and it is not dissoluble 
 at their pleasure. It encompasses them. It 
 adopts them into it. It presents them with a 
 nurture and training by means of which the 
 conscience is educated in the responsibihties of 
 the Christian profession. It is an election out 
 of mankind, and those who are in it are an 
 elect race. 
 
 The term "election" is a stumbling-block to 
 many. But that over which they stumble is not 
 so much the thing which it denotes as the use 
 which is made of it in theories and definitions. 
 The principle of limitations which it implies is 
 one that is apparent in every department of nature, 
 in every sphere of life, in the history of the past, 
 in the facts of the present. It is comprehended 
 in the plan of the all-good Orderer. But whoso is 
 wise and observant of the whole truth may under- 
 stand His loving-kindness. The elect or higher 
 forms of plant-life are serviceable, as showing the 
 potentialities of the species, and as suggesting ways 
 by which vitality may be more fully developed. 
 
The Church an Election. 
 
 JO 
 
 The elect or gifted minds are '"lent out'' for the 
 benefit of all ; the products of their genius or of 
 their labour are the enrichment of their universe. 
 Nations have their distinctive elections. They 
 are limited. They have their special aptitudes, 
 testimonies, characteristics, by which they are 
 circumscribed, but through which they contribute 
 to the sum-total of the forces that act on mankind. 
 Now, it is this law or principle which we recog- 
 nise in the vocation of the Church. Holy Scrip- 
 ture has enforced it. In the far-away past, it 
 represents the family of Abraham as elected. A 
 secret of the Lord was committed to this family. 
 Why? In order that the secret might be pre- 
 served, and that it might have, as thus preserved, 
 an ever-widening area of influence. " Thou shalt 
 be a blessing : . . . and in thee shall all families 
 of the earth be blessed.'*^ The family increased 
 and became a people. This people, Israel, was 
 elected. It was separated from other nations. 
 It was distinguished above other nations. Unto 
 it were committed the oracles of God. Why ? 
 In order that in its historv- and literature it might 
 be the guardian of a lofty monotheism, of a con- 
 ception of righteousness which was the germ of 
 truth that had '' waked to perish never." *' The 
 Law and the Prophets/' said Athanasius, ''were 
 
 ^ Gen. xii. 2, 3. 
 
36 The Social Vocation of the Church, 
 
 a sacred school of the knowledge of God and of 
 spiritual life for the whole world." ^ The Church 
 marks a still wider circle in the election of God. 
 As we have already seen, it is the inheritor of the 
 promises announced in the ages before the day of 
 Christ. But it holds these as fulfilled in the new 
 covenant which has been '' enacted on even better 
 promises." ^ Why is it thus chosen and endowed ? 
 In order that it may impart the knowledge which 
 is life eternal. It must always look not only into 
 but beyond itself. Does Christ pray for the men 
 whom the Father gave Him out of the world ? 
 He does this with a view to the fulfilment of the 
 mission, "that the world may believe that Thou 
 didst send Me." ^ Solemnly He reminds these 
 men that they had not chosen Him, but that He 
 had chosen them and appointed them, that they 
 should " go and bear fruit." ^ And the entire 
 world of man is described as the sphere of their 
 movement. The experience of St Paul, formerly 
 " a blasphemer and a persecutor, and injurious," 
 naturally induced him to give a more individual- 
 istic complexion to the truth of election ; but he 
 also regards the Church in its unity as the " ac- 
 cepted in the Beloved,"^ and, as the accepted, 
 
 ^ De Incarnatione, 12. '^ Heb. viii. 6. 
 
 ^ St John xvii. 21. "* St John xv. 16. 
 
 ^ Eph. iv. 6. 
 
The Right View of the Election. ^j 
 
 the demonstration of His grace to principalities 
 and powers, and the ordained agent of His grace 
 in its world-wide reference, making '* all men see 
 what is the dispensation of the mystery which 
 from all ages has been hid in God."^ St Peter 
 speaks of the Church as "an elect race"; elect, 
 for a purpose by which all are to be benefited, 
 " That ye should show forth the excellencies of 
 Him who called you out of darkness into His 
 marvellous light." '^ 
 
 The mistake in the harsher modes of Calvinism 
 is, that election is too much disjoined from this 
 wider reference, and from the supreme obligation 
 which is covered by it. Election is so defined 
 as practically to limit the love of God, as an 
 active force " bringing salvation," to those who 
 have been ordained to everlasting life. It is not 
 regarded as a means to an end — the blessing of 
 mankind. Let us settle it that election does not 
 mean that some are exclusive recipients of the 
 divine favour, but that those who freely receive, 
 receive in order that they may freely give. 
 What they have they hold for the good of 
 others. When a will bequeathing an estate is 
 made, the first part of the instrument is the 
 nomination of trustees, the constitution of a 
 trustee body. That body is elected. The estate 
 
 1 Eph. iii. 9. 2 I Peter ii. 9. 
 
38 TJie Social Vocation of t lie CJnirch. 
 
 is confided to it. But is it merely for the benefit 
 of the trustees ? Certainly not, but in order that 
 the intentions of the one whose will is declared 
 may be realised. The visible Church of Jesus 
 Christ is the trustee body which He has consti- 
 tuted, not to monopolise His love but to be His 
 executive in carrying out the desire of His love 
 to the uttermost, in the redemption of the world. 
 
 The view thus presented has been admirably 
 stated by the late Professor Bruce : " Election is 
 but the method by which Christ uses the few to 
 bless the many. Only when so conceived is it 
 Scriptural or wholesome. When it is thought of 
 as involving a monopoly of divine favour and re- 
 probation of all without, as it was by the Jews in 
 our Lord's day, then the salt loses its savour, and 
 the light is extinguished by being placed under a 
 bushel. The principle, natural law in the spiritual 
 world, is emphatically false here. In nature the 
 few are chosen and the many are ruthlessly cast 
 away; the fit survive and the unfit perish, and 
 the unconscious cosmos sheds no tear. In the 
 kingdom of God it is far otherwise. The chosen 
 few seek the good of the many ; the fit strive to 
 preserve the unfit. This is their very vocation, 
 and when they cease to pursue it they themselves 
 become unfit, useless, reprobate." ^ 
 
 ^ The Kingdom of God, pp. 256, 257. 
 
Truths in zv/iich the Vocation is enforced. 39 
 
 Here, then, is the vocation of the Church con- 
 stituted and ordained by Christ. Referring to 
 this ordination in His intercessory prayer to the 
 Father, He says, ** As Thou didst send Me into 
 the world, even so sent I them into the world. 
 And for their sakes I sanctify Myself, that they 
 also may be sanctified in truth." ^ This is the 
 consecration of His Church to the end of the 
 times. It is separated to Christ Himself, that 
 it may be the body through which He acts in 
 His revelation to men of the possibilities of 
 their life, and in His longing to heal all manner 
 of withering sickness and crippling disease — 
 working ever towards the sublime moment when 
 God, Who is light and love, shall be all in all. 
 
 Granting, however, that the vocation of the 
 Church to purify the springs and to elevate the 
 conditions of social life is expressed in the 
 teaching of Jesus, and in its constitution and 
 ordination by Him, how far, it may be asked, is 
 this vocation enforced by the truths which all 
 who profess and call themselves Christians accept 
 as pertaining to the essence of their profession ? 
 Societies or fraternities, however excellent in their 
 aims, are almost certain to lose their hold when 
 the original impulse which resulted in their found- 
 
 ^ St John xvii. i8, 19. 
 
40 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 ation is shorn of its freshness, unless they h e 
 the permanent support of definite and ever-potent 
 principles of action. Because of the want of this 
 support famous unions had their day — often a brief 
 one — and ceased to be. The philosophical fellow- 
 ships of antiquity — the Garden, the Academy, 
 the Porch — gradually dwindled away. Religious 
 sanctions have an enduring efficacy : they may 
 sustain systems for centuries ; but these systems 
 become embodiments of a tradition rather than 
 forces of life when they lack in a faith which, 
 from the centres both of reason and feeling, works 
 by love. Has the Christian Church such a faith ? 
 Is there that in its content which irresistibly, un- 
 restingly, impels to the service of humanity ? 
 
 The reply is, that in the Christian conscious- 
 ness there is an apprehension that commands 
 thought, there is an affection that commands de- 
 votion, there is an assurance that commands hope. 
 These are the dominating influences of the humani- 
 tarianism of the Church. 
 
 One of its central verities is the Incarnation. 
 With the exposition of dogma we are not now 
 concerned. But there is an article in a sym- 
 bol that Christendom East and West holds in 
 honour, which, as bearing on our subject, we 
 cannot overlook—'' I believe in Jesus Christ, the 
 only-begotten Son of the Father, . . . Who for 
 
The Incarnation, 41 
 
 us men, and for our salvation, became man."^ 
 More than this need not be said ; when we say 
 more we are in danger of losing ourselves in 
 metaphysical subtleties. There is wisdom as well 
 as pathos in the words of one of the early Fathers, 
 " We are compelled to attempt what is unattain- 
 able, to climb where we cannot reach, to speak 
 what we cannot utter ; instead of the mere adora- 
 tion of faith, we are compelled to intrust the 
 deep things of religion to the perils of human 
 expression." ^ 
 
 The discussion of the many issues that con- 
 nect with the Incarnation is beyond the limits 
 prescribed for this volume. But a brief glance 
 at two or three lines of objection will tend to 
 place the issue that is within the limits more 
 fully before the mind. 
 
 It is asserted by many, as a reason for dis- 
 missing all consideration of it, that the con- 
 ception is one which it is impossible to grasp. 
 To this it is sufficient to reply, in the language 
 which Herbert Spencer connects with the idea 
 of the Absolute, '' It is true that we are totally 
 unable to conceive any such higher mode of 
 being. But this is not a reason for questioning 
 its existence ; it is rather the reverse." ^ 
 
 ^ Nicene Creed. ^ Hilary, De Trinitate, 2. 2, 4. 
 
 First Principles, p. 209. 
 
42 The Social Vocation of the Chrtrch. 
 
 A more serious difficulty is indicated in the 
 argument of others, that the idea of a divine- 
 human Personahty is inconsistent with the ac- 
 knowledged principles of evolution. But may it 
 not be answered, first, that the utmost which 
 can be maintained is, that such a Personality 
 stands outside what we know of the facts of 
 nature ? But we know not all. Natural science 
 has not read all the secrets of God and of the 
 universe ; and there are other data on which to 
 base our reasoning than those of natural science. 
 And, further, if, even having regard to such 
 evolutionary processes as we are able partially 
 to follow, we can discern variations of type con- 
 stituted by the selection of highly organised in- 
 dividuals, making new developments and begin- 
 ning new species, is it not credible that the 
 history and the experience of man should be 
 summed up in One akin to us, but higher than 
 us, in whom the Life which is the light of men 
 should be as fully expressed as is possible under 
 the conditions of humanity? All that is true 
 and healthy is ever struggling upwards to com- 
 pleter realisations ; is it unnatural, though it 
 may take us to the supernatural, that, in the 
 fulness of the time, the Perfect man, the God- 
 man, should appear, so uniting the effluence to 
 the Source of life that He could say, "I am in 
 
Non-Christian Htmimiitarianism. 43 
 
 the Father and the Father in Me " ? This is 
 the Christian apprehension of Christ, very God 
 and very man, and our point is, that such an 
 apprehension, when reverent, intelhgent, and 
 earnest, has in it a call to social endeavour 
 which is supreme over the soul that hears. 
 
 So far this contention may be allowed. But 
 again it is argued, '* An idealisation of our 
 earthly life, the cultivation of a high concep- 
 tion of what it may be made," a devotion to 
 humanity in which the faith in Christ has no 
 place, can be as efficacious as — nay, more effi- 
 cacious for all that concerns material wellbeing 
 than — any argument drawn from the idea of an 
 Incarnation.^ Now, it is not denied that the 
 motive to much of the humanitarian effort of 
 the day is not a distinctively Christian motive. 
 One of the most striking features of society is, 
 that many men and women realise the char- 
 acteristic forces of religion, find a rehgion for 
 themselves, in their idealisations, their art, their 
 science, their work. They are frequently unself- 
 ish. They give themselves to their cause, and 
 sometimes for it. They have faith, enthusiasm, 
 hope. But let it be remembered that such 
 persons are few, that they are unconsciously 
 influenced by Christian atmospheres of thought, 
 
 1 3. S. Mill, Essay on the Utility of Religion. 
 
44 T^^i^ Social Vocation of the ChurcJi. 
 
 and that even they are in danger of having 
 the range of their sympathies contracted by 
 the speciahties which engross them. The parts 
 of their nature that are outwith the devotion 
 — possibly the higher and more spiritual parts 
 of the complex human being — are not sum- 
 moned into activity. A scientific or an artistic 
 interest, when it is wholly materialistic, must 
 lack in a certain purity of idealism, a certain 
 warmth and richness of colouring. Speaking 
 generally, it may be reasserted that a vital be- 
 lief in the truth of the Incarnate Lord supplies 
 a reason for social endeavour which is both 
 more intense and more quick and certain in its 
 action than a merely vague idealisation of the 
 earthly life can be. There are some words of 
 Pater, in which he contrasts the pagan with 
 the Christian charity, that express a truth as 
 between non-Christian and Christian service of 
 humanity. "What pagan charity," he writes, 
 " was doing tardily, and as it were with the 
 painful calculation of old age, the Church was 
 doing almost without thinking about it, in the 
 plenary masterfulness of youth, because it was 
 her very being thus to do."^ The spontaneity 
 of labour signified in these sentences is a feature 
 of really Christian labour. A man may, with no 
 
 ^ Marius the Epicurean, vol. ii. p. 127. 
 
The Light in ivhich ive see Light. 45 
 
 consciously religious motive, be zealous for the 
 good of his world : one who really believes in 
 Christ must be. If he is not, he is no true 
 believer. It cannot with him be a matter of 
 calculation ; w^hen the question as to how little 
 or how much will suffice becomes prominent, 
 he is parting from the vision of his Lord. His 
 doing is not, or should not be, tardy doing. It 
 is, or should be, prompt, easy, natural — the evi- 
 dence of a love which glows with the sense of 
 the great love of God. For, the Incarnation 
 has revealed God, has penetrated life with the 
 consciousness of God. It has consecrated earth. 
 It has given a new grace to the material world, 
 a new sanctity to man, in body, soul, and spirit. 
 It has shed light on the individual, on the family, 
 on the State. The religion of the Incarnation is 
 the religion of humanity. 
 
 For, undoubtedly, in its representation of 
 Christ as the Head of mankind, this religion 
 has given a special form and force to the 
 conception of the solidarity of the race. It 
 has uplifted the sense of the partnership of 
 each individual in the good common to the 
 race, and has quickened proportionally the feel- 
 ing of obligation to further that good. And 
 in doing so it has emphasised the unspeakable 
 value of the life and the world of man. This, 
 
46 The Social Vocation of the Chtirch. 
 
 indeed, is the substance of the last of the 
 objections to the Christian truth of the Incar- 
 nation to which allusion is now made. It is 
 maintained that the notion of an intervention by 
 Almighty God on behalf of man, besides being 
 inconsistent with the everlasting continuities and 
 the regularities of law, proceeds on assumptions 
 as to man's place and the importance of his 
 habitation which science has swept away. These 
 assumptions, it is said, belong to ages when the 
 universe in which men dwell was supposed to 
 be the centre of creation, whereas now we know 
 that it is only one, and a small one, in the im- 
 mensity of universes, and that its tenant is 
 not the final cause of creation. And knowing 
 this — to imagine that the Eternal Supreme could 
 be so interested in their concerns as to give 
 His only - begotten Son to be the Saviour of 
 men, is described as nothing better than the 
 expression of human vanity. Now, to all such 
 reasoning there can be no better answer than 
 that contained in the parables of Christ, which 
 set forth the will to seek and to save that which 
 was lost.^ Let it suffice, however, to rejoin 
 that, assuming the entrance of sin into the 
 world, it is not at variance with the scientific 
 view of the unity of all worlds to suppose 
 
 ^ St Luke XV. 
 
The Valite attached to Httmaii Life. 47 
 
 that a derangement in one sphere may be felt 
 through all spheres (as the effect of an injury 
 to any part of an organism is communicated 
 to the entire organism), that all worlds may be 
 bound together by a subtle and pervasive sym- 
 pathy, and that, in the interest of all that is 
 created. He who is the Father and Orderer of 
 all may have undertaken to restore the pre- 
 ordained harmony by reconciling that which had 
 gone astray with this harmony and with Him- 
 self. But the objection taken only proves the 
 assertion that, in the light of the Incarnation, 
 an unspeakable value necessarily attaches to 
 human life. What can a man give in exchange 
 for a being which God, through a stupendous 
 gift, has redeemed ? *' The glory of God is the 
 living man ; the life of man is the vision of 
 God."^ In this apprehension of the essential 
 and inalienable worth of life there is the word 
 of command: "Go, endeavour to make the 
 living man to whom you minister the glory of 
 God, to recover the vision of God in the lives 
 that have lapsed. In even the depraved and 
 sunken there is still some potentiality of good, 
 something of the divine. Appeal to it. Re- 
 member that Christ saw it w^hen He pierced 
 * all down the drear abyss of sin.' Search for 
 
 ^ Ireni^us, quoted in Gore's Bampton Lecture, p. 121. 
 
48 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 it. Look at your world with His eyes. Join 
 yourselves to men in their burdens and woes ; 
 in His compassion and for His sake, work for the 
 redemption of His kind and yours." Irenaeus 
 long ago interpreted a regulative truth of the 
 Church's social mission when he wrote, ''Christ 
 was made what we are that He might enable 
 us to be what He Himself is." ^ 
 
 The influence of a living faith in the Incarna- 
 tion is strengthened by a twofold appeal which 
 this faith makes. 
 
 I. It appeals to personal affection. In a strik- 
 ing passage in one of his Epistles, St Paul dwells 
 on the Kevcoai^ of Jesus, which he thus explains : 
 '' Who, being in the form of God, counted it 
 not a prize to be on an equality with God, but 
 emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, 
 being made in the likeness of men ; and being 
 found in fashion as a man. He humbled Him- 
 self, becoming obedient even unto death, yea, 
 the death of the cross." ^ Christian thought 
 vainly endeavours to give shape to all that this 
 self-emptying implies. But this every one can 
 discern — it refers to a sacrifice which words are 
 inadequate to represent. God is love. Infinite 
 love is the capacity of infinite sacrifice ; and it 
 is in Jesus Christ that the supreme expression 
 
 ^ Quoted in 'Lux Mundi,' p. 184. - Phil. ii. 6-8. 
 
spiritual Poiver of CIuHst's Sacrifice. 49 
 
 of this sacrifice is realised. What is borne in 
 on us, as we follow Him from the mean cradle 
 to the bitter cross, is that the Creator whose 
 being, which is Love, is a law to Himself, owns, 
 so to say, His responsibility for the world ; 
 and, under the spell of this revelation, the mind 
 reasons, '' If God so loved us, we also ought to 
 love one another." ^ The revelation is an irresist- 
 ible command to love men, as Christ loved us. 
 
 *' Christ has taught," observes Professor Seeley, 
 '* not merely by the Sermon on the Mount, but 
 also by the agony and the crucifixion."^ The 
 teaching of the agony and the crucifixion is the 
 one everlasting illustration of the ethic of Christ. 
 But it is more : it is that which supplies the 
 dynamic for the practical carrying out of the 
 ethic. What we need is, not so much an ex- 
 position of righteousness as a power in the soul 
 itself, persuading and enabling to be righteous. 
 We may see the vision of God, as Balaam in 
 the Old Testament narrative did, "with the 
 eyes open," and yet, as in his case, lack the 
 
 ^ I John iv. II. 
 
 2 Ecce Homo, p. no. "Those who fix their eyes on the 
 Sermon on the Mount, or rather on the naked propositions 
 which it contains, and disregard Christ's life, His cross, and His 
 resurrection, commit the same mistake in studying Christianity 
 that the student of Socratic philosophy would commit if he 
 studied only the dramatic story of his [Socrates'] death." — P. 90. 
 
 D 
 
50 The Social Vocation of the Chtcrck. 
 
 will-power to be true to it — nay, all the while 
 we may be hankering after " the wages of un- 
 righteousness." An internal fire which, burning 
 up the wood and hay and stubble of selfish- 
 ness, effectually "propels generous emanations," 
 is the desideratum. And it is this that is effected 
 when, by the illumination of the Holy Spirit, the 
 crucified Christ is glorified. Very emphatic is 
 the language of the apostle, yet not more em- 
 phatic than the experience of a great cloud of 
 witnesses has verified, " The love of Christ con- 
 straineth us " (hems us in, shuts us up to the 
 one conclusion), '' because we thus judge, that 
 one died for all, therefore all died ; and He 
 died for all, that they who live should no longer 
 live unto themselves, but unto Him who for 
 their sakes died and rose again." ^ This is the 
 Christian ideal of the motive and end of the 
 service of humanity ; and, that they may re- 
 ceive an ever-fresh anointing, those who " thus 
 judge " are always turning to the place called 
 Calvary, there to be baptised into His death 
 and to be consecrated in the truth of His 
 Church's mission to the world over which He 
 poured the blood of atonement. 
 
 2. Further, the faith in Christ, incarnate, cruci- 
 fied, but risen, to Whom all power in heaven and 
 
 ^ 2 Cor. V. 14, 15. 
 
Faith in Christ an Assur^ance of Hope. 5 1 
 
 in earth is given, contains an assurance which 
 is the perennial nourishment of all that is 
 strenuous and hopeful. The eye of the Church 
 does not droop over the memory of a dead 
 hero, or of a martyr who speaks only through 
 the effect of His martyrdom. It turns, with a 
 gaze always bright and ardent, to a living Lord, 
 Brother, Friend. The confirmation of all that 
 hope leaps forward to claim is its confidence 
 that He is the true King and Leader of men. 
 Even when wrong seems to triumph, this is 
 the pledge, that whatsover is right eternally is; 
 that the wrong is only as the black cloud 
 which, drifting athwart the firmament, tempor- 
 arily obscures the azure beyond. There can be 
 no pessimism where there is the stout heart of 
 the preacher in East London, whom Matthew 
 Arnold has sketched in one of his most beau- 
 tiful sonnets — 
 
 "111 and o'erworked, how fare you in this scene?' 
 So the poet asked, and the answer came — 
 
 " Bravely, for I of late have been much filled 
 With thoughts of Christ the living Bread." 
 
 The mind much filled with these thoughts calls 
 sin sin, and sees in it an exceeding sinfulness. 
 It beholds with tears the city in its woes and 
 sorrows. But because its God is the God of 
 
52 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 hope, because its Lord is the Christ Who was 
 and is and is to come, because it beheves in a 
 kingdom of grace which is active in the midst 
 of social confusions and upheavals, and, even by 
 means of them, is working out larger and fuller 
 measures of good, it can be patient in tribula- 
 tion, nay, in the dark and cloudy day it cannot 
 be otherwise than sanguine. Men protest that 
 the harvest will not come, if it ever comes at 
 all, until millenniums have passed. The Church, 
 lifting up its eyes to the heaven where its Lord 
 is, replies, '' Lo, the fields are white already to 
 harvest," and courageously it works and restfully 
 it waits. 
 
DJ 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE AGGRESSIVE SOCIAL ACTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 Those who are observant of the movement of 
 great social forces in directions which they 
 anxiously scrutinise, who feel the pressure of 
 great problems the solution of which they are 
 unable to discover, are apt to take an ex- 
 aggerated view of the burdens and difficulties 
 of their time. Now, for the encouragement of 
 faith, it is good to cast the eye backward over 
 the centuries during which the Church of Christ 
 has been fulfilling the vocation of her Lord and 
 Head. '' History," it has been said, "is the 
 chart and compass of national endeavour." ^ 
 The history of the Church is the chart and 
 compass of Christian endeavour. It indicates 
 the paths along which, under the guidance of 
 the Spirit of Truth, it has travelled and is 
 called to travel. It tells us of the rocks and 
 
 ^ Friends in Council, p. 227. 
 
54 The Social Vocation of the Chttrch, 
 
 reefs to be avoided, of the forces which have 
 interrupted, and still interrupt, its legitimate 
 progress. It brings us into relation to those 
 master spirits of the ages who, by their inspir- 
 ation and service, shaped the best action of 
 their day, and it opens up to us the secret of 
 the strength by which they "subdued king- 
 doms and wrought righteousness." It proves 
 to us that, though they may vary in form, 
 the struggles we must face, the aims we must 
 pursue, are, after all, the perennial struggles 
 and aims of the higher life in Christ, in its 
 conflict with the inferior purposes and ambi- 
 tions of men. And thus, by all the testimony 
 of the ages gone, we are encouraged to "take 
 up the whole armour of God, that we may be 
 able to withstand in the evil day, and having 
 done all, to stand." ^ 
 
 But, for two reasons, a retrospect of ecclesi- 
 astical history may repel rather than attract. 
 
 In the first place, the features most prominent 
 in the retrospect are far from inviting. We 
 might expect gardens of the Lord, watered 
 everywhere, beautiful with flowers, fragrant 
 with spices, and enriched with trees yielding 
 all manner of fruit, whose leaves are for the 
 healing of the nations. Instead of this, we are 
 1 Eph. vi. 13. 
 
Real Interest of Ecclesiastical History. 5 5 
 
 introduced to a succession of wide tracts swept 
 bare by storms of passion, of arid wastes of 
 controversy, of scenes in which priestcraft is 
 beheld borrowing the carnal weapons of the 
 most despicable statecraft, and creating atmo- 
 spheres of wile, intrigue, and oppression. This 
 is true. But let us bring the eyes of Christian 
 wisdom and love to our study. Neander has 
 rightly observed that "our understanding of the 
 history of Christianity will depend on the con- 
 ception we have formed in our own minds of 
 Christianity itself." ^ If we have formed the con- 
 ception of a society the law of whose develop- 
 ment is, that the authority on which it must 
 depend is a moral authority, that the truth 
 with which it is charged can be unfolded only 
 through frictions, through the cleavages caused 
 by the sword which Christ announced that He 
 had come to send, that the divine treasure, 
 moreover, is deposited in earthen vessels, in 
 weak and imperfect men ; then, we shall not 
 only cease to wonder at the battles whose stains 
 and, traces are evident in every generation, but 
 we shall feel that these battles are full of pathos 
 and interest, we shall see in them the resistances 
 of the darkness which is always seeking to over- 
 take the light, and the often slow, but ulti- 
 
 ^ Church History, Inlroduclion. 
 
56 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 mately sure, assertion of principles which modify 
 the permanent conditions of hfe. We shall be 
 reminded, too, that the real history of the 
 Christian society is not that which is prominent 
 in records. Writing of England, Ruskin pro- 
 tests, " That which people call her history is 
 not hers at all, but of her kings and the tax- 
 gatherers employed by them."^ In a similar 
 strain, we can affirm that the story told in 
 books is often not the story of the real Church, 
 but that of emperors and popes, of factions and 
 councils. The story is to be looked for else- 
 where. ''The kingdom of God cometh not with 
 observation." ^ It comes and it is advanced, 
 through spiritual and social activities which 
 scarcely appear, through all that enters into 
 the making of Christian soul and community ; 
 through transformations of character, individual 
 and national, effected by the diffusion of those 
 educative, disciplinary, and ameliorative influ- 
 ences which tone and determine the civilisation 
 of the world. 
 
 In the next place, the vastness of the under- 
 taking may indispose us to any attempt to review 
 the bygone centuries. The utter impossibility 
 of even summarising social expansions which 
 spread over such lengthened periods is at once 
 
 ^ Fors Clavigera, vol. i, p. 48. 2 gt Luke xvii. 20. 
 
Epochs of Ecclesiastical History selected, 5 7 
 
 recognised. And, in order that the supposed 
 objection may be disarmed, the aim of this 
 chapter shall be merely to illustrate, by rapid 
 sketches, the unfolding of the Church's voca- 
 tion, and its aggressive action on human society. 
 Two epochs, for the sake of such illustration, 
 are selected — the one, that which extends from 
 the beginning of the organised Christian com- 
 munity to the peace of the Church, when Con- 
 stantine yielded himself and his empire to the 
 vision of the cross ; and the other, that which, 
 including the latter half of the middle ages, 
 leads on to the Reformation of Western 
 Christendom in the sixteenth century. These 
 epochs are vast, but the survey, such as it is, 
 will speak to us of the growth of that tiny 
 seedling which, sown on the soil of Palestine, 
 put out great branches, so that the birds of 
 the heaven — the winged thoughts and aspira- 
 tions of humanity — came and lodged under its 
 shadow. 
 
 The day of Pentecost marks the beginning of 
 the organised Christian brotherhood. On that 
 day 3000 souls were added to the original band of 
 disciples numbering 120, and the household of 
 faith was formed. The converts, we are told, 
 *' continued stedfastly in the apostles' teaching 
 
58 TJie Social Vocation of the Church, 
 
 and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and the 
 prayers." ^ In the glow of the love which knit 
 all together, that which was individual to each 
 member of the community was merged in the 
 new corporate life. It required no ordinance to 
 establish a scheme of reciprocal benefit and ser- 
 vice. This was, almost unconsciously, the result 
 of the union. No more beautiful picture of a 
 community was ever drawn than that which is 
 drawn in the simple words of the chronicler: 
 "All that believed were together, and had all 
 things common ; and they sold their possessions 
 and goods, and parted them to all, according as 
 any man had need. And, day by day, continuing 
 stedfastly with one accord in the temple, and 
 breaking bread at home, they did take their food 
 with gladness and singleness of heart, praising 
 God, and having favour with all the people." ^ 
 It was the sign of the heaven which lay around 
 the infancy of the Church. A vision, alas! too 
 soon to fade, yet one in which Christianity may 
 recognise a truth, not to be reproduced in the 
 letter, but in its spirit, to "perish never." 
 
 Thus, in the feeling of its relation to the risen 
 and exalted Christ, and by the guidance of the 
 Spirit Whom he had promised, the Church 
 developed a characteristic social collectivism. 
 
 ^ Acts ii. 42. - Acts ii. 44-46, 
 
The Social Developjueitt of the Chitrch. 59 
 
 Some of the first things recorded concerning the 
 Church had a distinctly social aspect. The first 
 sin against its holiness was that in which two of 
 those who had been added to it lied to the Holy 
 Ghost, in regard to the surrender of their pro- 
 perty.^ The first discordant note in its music 
 was a "murmuring" of certain Hellenists, ''be- 
 cause their widows were neglected in the daily 
 ministration." ^ And the first action of the laity 
 was the selection, in accordance with the counsel 
 of the apostles, of " seven men of good report from 
 among them, full of the Spirit and of wisdom," ^ 
 whom the apostles might appoint to the ministry 
 of "the tables." A type of society had been 
 originated which, claiming to be divine in its 
 source and authority, "the fulness of Him who 
 filleth all in all," — "a tower," as Hermas, the 
 Bunyan of the early time, called it, " founded on 
 the word of the almighty and glorious Name, 
 and kept together by the invisible power of the 
 Lord,"* — ^joined all its constituents in the most 
 intimate of social unities, in practical sym- 
 pathies, whose impelling motive was, " the grace 
 of their Lord Jesus Christ, in that, though He 
 was rich, yet for their sakes He became poor." ^ 
 
 1 Acts v. I- 1 1. - Acts vi. I. -^ Acts vi. 2, 3. 
 
 ^ The Pastor of Hermas, Vision ii. chap. 3. 
 ^ 2 Cor. viii. 9. 
 
6o The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 ''This second spring-tide of the world," writes 
 Dean Church, "this fresh start of mankind in the 
 career of their eventful destiny, was the beginning 
 of many things, but what I observe now is that 
 it was the beginning of new chances, new im- 
 pulses, and new guarantees for civilised life, in 
 the truest and worthiest sense of the words." ^ 
 An organism which gave a " fresh start " in the 
 world's history could not but be largely influenced 
 by its environment. In order that it might push 
 its own vitality outwards, it needed to receive 
 from the surrounding soil : it could be robust, 
 adaptive, human whilst spiritual, only by corre- 
 spondence with elements which were akin to it, 
 and by opposition to features which were alien to 
 it, in the times on which it acted. Now, the 
 environment with which, more and more, it 
 realised a contact was the widespread Roman 
 Empire. Its gradual disengagement from the 
 Judaism under whose shadow it moved in its 
 earliest morn is traced in the Book of the Acts 
 of the Apostles. And the liberation, towards 
 which much had led, was completed through the 
 destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans under 
 Titus. The city where the Lord was crucified, 
 and whence the faith in Him had gone forth on 
 the mission for which He had destined it, became 
 
 ^ The Gifts of Civilisation. 
 
More Catholic Movement of the Church. 6 1 
 
 a sacred memory, a holy place; but Christianity 
 was thenceforth identified, not with Palestine, 
 but with the world which acknowledged the sway 
 of the imperial eagle. 
 
 The pioneer of its more catholic spirit and 
 movement was the apostle Paul. To him, more 
 than to any other of the apostles, was due the 
 development of the Church in the first stadium of 
 its course. The special theatre of his action was 
 Asia Minor. He passed, at intervals, into Europe; 
 but in this province the most striking imprints of 
 his genius were made. He organised Christian 
 communities in the larger centres of population. 
 Each community, each church, had a certain local 
 independence ; but the feeling of relation to the 
 larger unity was enforced in a practical manner. 
 There were collections for poor saints in Jeru- 
 salem ; he reckoned it a privilege to be the bearer 
 of these collections. Deputations were, again 
 and again, sent from church to church. The 
 Epistles that St Paul addressed to one church, he 
 asked should be forwarded to, and read in, other 
 churches. The same social features — the brother- 
 hood in Christ, the care of the weak, the poor, 
 the widow, the orphan — were presented in every 
 congregation. In his charge to the presbyters 
 of Ephesus, there is an interesting reference to 
 a saving of Jesus, not found in the Gospels, 
 
62 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 which illustrates one of the main points of the 
 apostle's teaching, " I gave you an example, 
 how that so labouring ye ought to help the 
 weak, and to remember the words of the Lord 
 Jesus, how He Himself said. It is more blessed 
 to give than to receive."^ 
 
 Thus teaching, and diffusing a purer and loftier 
 social spirit, St Paul made his memorable mis- 
 sionary circuits. The more the idea of the 
 Church as a debtor for the Gospel of Christ to 
 the whole world dominated his perception, the 
 more did Rome and all the culture with which 
 it was identified lay a spell on him. Greece, 
 though subject to Rome, had, by means of its 
 language and its literature, conquered Rome. 
 And we see a noble blending of Greek thought 
 with Roman imperialism in his conception of 
 the social life of the Church, as that is pre- 
 sented in the First Epistle to the Corinthians.^ 
 Of this conception Dean Stanley has said : " It 
 is not Asiatic but European. It was Greece, 
 not India, which first presented the sight of a 
 7roXt9 or State in which every citizen had his 
 own pohtical and social duties, and Hved not 
 for himself but for the State. It was a Roman 
 fable, and not an Eastern parable, which gave 
 to the world the image of a body politic, in 
 
 1 Acts XX. 35. - I Cor. xii. 
 
The Ideal and the Aim of St Paul. 6 
 
 which the welfare of each member depended on 
 the welfare of the rest. And it is precisely 
 this thought which, whether in conscious or 
 unconscious imitation, was suggested by the 
 sight of the manifold and various gifts of the 
 Christian community. His picture is the Christ- 
 ianisation not of the Levitical Hierarchy but of 
 the Republic of Plato." ^ We can so far homolo- 
 gate this statement, for there are approximations 
 in the ideal of the Christian apostle to that of 
 the Greek philosopher, whilst at the same time 
 it is suggestive of the Roman genius for govern- 
 ment ; but the apostle strikes a note which was 
 not borne to him from either the ^Egean Sea 
 or the Tiber, — the note sounded in his wonder- 
 ful poem on love,^ and prolonged in the expres- 
 sion of his aim, " to make human society one 
 living body closely joined in communion with 
 Christ." With this aim becoming always more 
 distinct, the march led by him was towards, 
 was into, that world, covering *' an area three 
 thousand miles in length from east to west, 
 and two thousand in breadth from north to 
 south," which owned the sway of Rome. 
 
 The mighty and the wise little thought that he 
 and the humble men who had caught '' from his 
 
 ^ St Paul's Epistles to the Corinthians, vol. i. pp. 270, 271. 
 ^ I Cor. xiii. 
 
64 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 joyaunce a surprise of joy" were the bearers of 
 a seed -basket, from whose contents, as they 
 sowed " beside all waters," w^as to spring a new 
 harvest for the earth. They little thought " of 
 what w^as in store for civil and secular society 
 as they beheld them plying their novel trade 
 of preachers and missionaries."^ At first they 
 scarcely noticed the new teaching ; if they 
 noticed it at all, it seemed only a phase of 
 Jewish fanaticism. But gradually, and not 
 slowly, considering the obscurity in which it 
 moved, it forced itself on notice. Its promul- 
 gation, and the hold it took on persons of all 
 sorts and conditions, are among the problems of 
 history. 
 
 It is a problem not now to be discussed. The 
 causes, as from a merely human view-point, of 
 the progress of Christianity in the early cen- 
 turies, are related to climates of religious feel- 
 ing or want of feeling, tendencies of thought, 
 conditions of society, and other matters, whose 
 consideration would take us too far afield. One 
 point only may be noticed. Assuming that, 
 beyond all secondary causes, the cause was the 
 divine power which accompanied the Gospel, 
 and appropriated the Church of Christ, there 
 were facilities for the prosecution of the mission 
 
 ^ Gifts of Civilisation. 
 
Circumstances favouring the Church. 65 
 
 of the Gospel and the Church specially pro- 
 vided by the Empire and its circumstances. It 
 was an all but universal Empire. It had realised 
 a solidarity of government and of interests which 
 favoured the conception of a universal Church, 
 of a new solidarity of mankind. The time of its 
 advance, moreover, was, as Professor Ramsay 
 has indicated, a time of transition from the 
 narrower conception of the Republic, accord- 
 ing to which Rome was the mistress of subject 
 nations, to the wider conception of the Empire, 
 according to which nations were the constituents 
 of a great confederation whose head was Rome.^ 
 And this wider view touched an answering chord 
 in the Church: it nourished the presentiment of a 
 spiritual-social vastness. Finally, the machinery 
 of government ; the universality of two languages, 
 especially the Greek ; the energies of commerce ; 
 the marches of armies and the voyages of fleets, 
 making pathways by land and sea, — all contrib- 
 uted to the diffusion of Christian influence. In 
 the words of Isaac Taylor, "The Gospel took 
 to itself the wings of every energy which then 
 carried men to and fro between the three con- 
 tinents. It used the roads and the ships of the 
 Empire; it went in the track of caravans. It 
 flowed, as one might say, through the arteries of 
 
 1 The Church in the Roman Empire, p. lo. 
 E 
 
66 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 the Greek language, philosophy, and literature ; it 
 went wherever books had gone before it ; culture 
 was a preparation of the soil for its reception. 
 Forests and wilds it did penetrate by adventurous 
 and precarious missions ; but, along with the re- 
 finements of a high civilisation, it dw^elt at 
 home."i 
 
 So it was that, when the second century was 
 running its course, the Roman magistrate awoke 
 to the discovery that another empire, in the world 
 but not of it, was, with weapons he could not 
 understand, challenging the might of the Caesars. 
 
 Why was the Church singled out for persecu- 
 tion ? The policy of Rome was tolerant. Why 
 was its faith branded as a superstitio prava and 
 condemned as a religio illicita ? There is a well- 
 known testimony as to the character and aims 
 of the Christian society which takes back to the 
 year a.d. 120. Pliny, the governor of Bithynia, 
 sent a report to the Emperor Trajan, that not 
 only bears an impartial witness to the growth of 
 Christianity in his province, but also supplies a 
 most interesting glimpse into the social life of the 
 Christian community.^ His is a testimony very 
 different from that of the historian Tacitus, who 
 represents Christians as only hateful for their 
 crimes and deserving punishment of hitherto un- 
 
 ^ Restoration of Belief, p. 5. ^ Letters to Trajan, 96, 97. 
 
Reason of Persecutions of the Church. 6y 
 
 exampled severity. But why does the mild and 
 sagacious Trajan — with the information of his 
 proconsul Pliny before him, to the effect that 
 all he could find, after investigation, was that 
 Christians were wont to meet together and sing 
 hymns of praise to Christ, and covenant to be 
 chaste and honest — yet sanction the infliction of 
 punishment on these unoffending people, when 
 they were apprehended and would not recant ? 
 
 The answer is that, with an instinct which was 
 quite correct, Roman statesmen discerned in the 
 spread of Christianity a menace to the existing 
 structure of society. Other religions were con- 
 tent to move in their own orbit : they might 
 nurse fanaticisms, but any outbreak which dis- 
 turbed the peace could be repressed, and they 
 had no particularly aggressive character. But 
 the Christian religion was inevitably aggressive. 
 It did not, indeed, interfere with political rela- 
 tions. It inculcated the payment of "tribute 
 to whom tribute was due." It had no quarrel 
 with the Empire ; nevertheless, the Empire was 
 bound to quarrel with it. It was not only that 
 the crafts which depended on sacrificial rites 
 and temple worship were imperilled ; it was not 
 only that the ceremonice RomancB—Yjhioh, though 
 little of a living faith attached to them, struck 
 their roots far down into national and social 
 
68 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 life — were more and more neglected ; it was not 
 only that Christians stood aloof from the bloody 
 shows and cruel sports which were necessary for 
 the diversion of the public mind, more par- 
 ticularly of the masses, from degradations that 
 were eating into the core of the body politic ; 
 the danger of dangers was that, in this growing 
 belief, there was an ethical and moral standard 
 which collided with the standards of Roman 
 citizenship. The benevolent aspects of the 
 Christian fraternity might have been passed 
 over, as denoting a harmless enthusiasm ; but 
 the obligations of the faith in its Sacred Per- 
 son which it professed were another matter. 
 They imposed on its members an authority 
 supreme over that of the Caesar ; they asserted 
 the inviolable sacredness of conscience — not as 
 measured by the conventions of the State, but 
 as measured by the royal law of the Christ Who 
 was worshipped. As between the State and 
 this Christ, there was for Christians no choice. 
 It was this moral sense that uplifted the in- 
 dividual man; and, in the uplifting of the in- 
 dividual man, the knell of the slavery which was 
 regarded as essential to society was sounded. 
 And thus, to those who looked on the Religion 
 simply from the Roman standpoint, simply with 
 reference to the interests of the State, and the 
 
Paganism and Christianity. 69 
 
 cohesion of society on the Roman basis, the 
 toleration of it was impossible. As early as the 
 year 64, Nero, the miserable buffoon who wore 
 the purple of the Caesars, varied the accusation 
 of incendiarism by that of an odium humani 
 generis.^ He endeavoured to stir the popular 
 feehng against Christians by representing them 
 as hostile to civilised life. And between the 
 civilised life, as then organised, and the Christ- 
 ian life, there was a necessary and a radical 
 hostility. In the measure of the Church's ex- 
 pansion that hostility was declared.^ It was 
 precipitated and developed by persecution. A 
 new religious symbol of imperial unity had been 
 invented; that symbol was the worship of the 
 emperor. When the Christian was commanded 
 to do homage to the deified Caesar he refused, 
 and, on account of his refusal, he was thrown 
 to the lions or burned at the stake. Emperors 
 learned what others than they have been taught 
 —even the Church itself in later and corrupt 
 
 ^ "To the Romdin g-enus humamim meant not mankind in general, 
 but the Roman world, men who lived according to Roman manners 
 and laws — the rest were enemies and barbarians." — The Church in 
 the Roman Empire, p. 236. 
 
 2 The attitude of the humane Aurelius is the most distinct of 
 testimonies to the exact nature of the case. His persecution of 
 Christians was contrary to the inclination of his mind : it was 
 directed entirely by the political motives of a Roman statesman. 
 
"JO The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 times — that in the blood or in the ashes of 
 martyrs there is seed. 
 
 But now let us overlook all the fierce fight of 
 affliction through which the Church was called 
 to pass. Let us place ourselves at the beginning 
 of the fourth Christian century, at the year 317, 
 when the Edict of Constantine proclaimed the 
 age of persecution past, and the reign of peace 
 between Church and State begun. What then 
 was the position of the Church ? and what had 
 it done for human society ? 
 
 It had covered the entire area of the Roman 
 Empire and penetrated beyond it.^ In every city 
 it had congregations, in some it had even a 
 majority of the citizens. From the cities it 
 had spread into the adjacent country, planting 
 churches everywhere. It had carried its message 
 to Gaul, to Britain, to Spain, to the forests of 
 Swabia and Germany. It had made Asia Minor 
 largely its own. Egypt, proconsular Africa, Nu- 
 midia, Syria, Mesopotamia, Armenia, had Christ- 
 ian communities. It had crossed the Euphrates. 
 It had travelled to Parthia, Persia, Arabia, India, 
 and as far as China. Its line had gone through 
 the earth. Barbarians — the barbarous tribes on 
 the frontier of the Empire— had been taught to 
 
 ^ The social influence of the Church is traced in the present 
 writer's 'Expansion of the Christian Life,' pp. 31-66. 
 
Social Service and Influence of CJmrch. 7 1 
 
 bow in the name of Jesus. Where man was, 
 the Church had felt itself bound to be. It had 
 taught slaves, but it had gained the free and high- 
 born also.^ Its philosophers and apologists were 
 second to none for learning and force. It was a 
 vast and world-wide power. The number of its 
 professed adherents is not the criterion of its 
 influence. Perhaps, not a twentieth, not more 
 than a tenth certainly, of the population of the 
 Empire was Christian, when Constantine saw 
 and accepted the cross. But the proportion of 
 Christians, whatever it was, represented the 
 moral earnestness, the vital and progressive force, 
 of the Empire. And the social life which sur- 
 rounded it had in many respects been struck, as 
 with a wedge driven near to its base. 
 
 In all parts of the world, substantially the same 
 type of social life was reproduced. In respect of 
 polity, there were the bishops or overseers, the 
 officers of various kinds, the administrations and 
 administrators of the brotherhood. In respect of 
 aims, it might be an exaggeration to affirm that 
 the idea of a community held bound in its solidar- 
 ity for all its constituents, especially for the sick 
 
 1 ' ' The Christian reHgion spread at first among the educated 
 more rapidly than among the uneducated, and nowhere had it a 
 stronger hold (as Mommsen observes) than in the household and at 
 the court of the Emperor." — The Church in the Roman Empire, 
 p. 56. 
 
72 The Social Vocation of the Chirch. 
 
 and the poor, was a distinctively Christian idea; 
 for anticipations of it are to be found in Greek 
 writers, and the alimentations of the Roman Em- 
 pire grew to be a burden too heavy for the im- 
 perial exchequer. But there were features that 
 dissociated the Church from all such alimenta- 
 tions. The policy that promoted them had 
 respect to the maintenance of order and the 
 suppression of revolution. It meant the demor- 
 alisation of the people. In the Church there 
 was found a unity inspired by an utterly different 
 spirit and motive. It interpreted a covenant of 
 sympathy. The sanctuaries of Christians had 
 orphanages or institutions of healing attached 
 to them. We read of provision for widows, and 
 children bereft of parents, of hospices, of hos- 
 pitals for lepers, of benevolences of many kinds, 
 of practical philanthropies which moderated the 
 excitements of controversy, and were, to all 
 without, a sign of brotherly love. And, in our 
 contemplation of the earlier Church, we must 
 not overlook the ethical and spiritual ideal 
 which it ever kept in view. If Christians were 
 held bound to love one another, it was for the 
 sake of Him who had given them His cross to 
 bear and had called them to be holy even as He 
 is holy. 
 
 This society, mirroring, amidst all its imper- 
 
A New Ethic. J2> 
 
 fections, a lofty ideal of purified humanity, 
 reached many sides of the surrounding life. 
 Even the heathenism which opposed it was 
 influenced by it.^ It tended to form atmo- 
 spheres of thought and feeling in which the in- 
 humaneness and ghastliness of some of the 
 features of this heathenism were evidenced. A 
 public opinion condemnatory of infanticide, of 
 exposure of children, of the cruelties of many 
 kinds with which the records of the centuries 
 are filled, had been formed and was rapidly 
 spreading. Bloody spectacles, gladiatorial ex- 
 hibitions, the brutal sports offered to prince 
 and slave, were discountenanced by the diffu- 
 sion of u. gentler type of manners. A higher 
 value was being put on human life, and a new 
 ethic was silently salting the earth. 
 
 1 '*One of the most interesting facts in the history of religion 
 under the Empire is the influence which was exerted by the new 
 religion on the old, and the progress of discovery is gathering a store 
 of information on this point which will at some future time make a 
 remarkable picture."— The Church in the Roman Empire, p. 144. 
 
74 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE AGGRESSIVE SOCIAL ACTION OF THE 
 
 CHURCH — continued. 
 
 A NEW era dawned on both the Church and 
 the Empire, bringing with it new social condi- 
 tions, w^hen the Roman Caesar, the founder of 
 Constantinople, recognised Christianity as the 
 religion of the State. We have no occasion to 
 discuss the character, and the policy, imperial 
 and ecclesiastical, of Constantine. The story of 
 the six centuries which followed the peace that 
 he proclaimed is eventful and troubled. But it 
 is outwith the limits of our review to do more 
 than glance at these periods of storm and stress, 
 of dissolution and reconstruction. The object 
 aimed at in this chapter is merely an illustration 
 of the aggressive action of the Church on the 
 social life of humanity. And we revert to the 
 times between the fourth and the tenth century 
 on whose threshold we take our stand, only in so 
 
Beginning of Tenth Christian Century. 75 
 
 far as they shed hght on the Christian civiHsation 
 which from this vantage-ground we survey, trac- 
 ing thence some features of the bent given to 
 pubHc sentiment and hfe, prior to that mighty 
 moral upheaval which has made the sixteenth 
 century one of the outstanding epochs in the 
 world's history. 
 
 I. 
 
 What was the religious and social position of 
 the world and the Church at the beginning of 
 the tenth century ? To understand this, we 
 must glance at the periods anterior to it, especi- 
 ally at those usually designated "The Dark 
 Ages." 
 
 From the day of Constantine's peace, with the 
 exception of a brief period, the Roman Empire 
 was a Christian Power, and the beneficent effect 
 of the change was marked in the spirit of legis- 
 lation. The Code and Institutes of Justinian 
 are the sign of the immense advance which had 
 been made in the policy, and, indeed, in the 
 whole conception, of government.^ A new con- 
 sciousness of the worth of life, of the rights of 
 the individual, of the honour due to woman, of 
 
 ^ "The grand legacy of Roman law as reformed by Christian 
 ideas." 
 
76 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 the duty of protecting the weak, and of promot- 
 ing pubHc morahty, had been developed. The 
 Church had given the State new social ideals, 
 and had created a higher platform of citizenship. 
 " Christianity," says Mommsen, 'Svas the friend, 
 not the enemy, of the Empire." ^ The Empire 
 became stronger when the emperors became 
 Christian. It contained in it the seeds of dis- 
 ruption, but the germination of these seeds was 
 delayed by the power of religion. Faith in God 
 was a more potent bond of cohesion than the 
 deification of the emperor. And Christian wor- 
 ship, disciplines, and benevolences, softened man- 
 ners, and, to some extent, improved morals. The 
 State gained; it may be that the Church lost. 
 If the former received a deeper force from the 
 latter, possibly the latter appropriated too much 
 from the former. There were better emperors ; 
 there may have been worse bishops. Though 
 the Church christened, it failed to regenerate, 
 the Empire. 
 
 We observe with interest the influence of the 
 missionary efforts of the Church in a direction 
 which was destined to affect the Empire. The 
 Gospel had penetrated at an early date into the 
 regions which were inhabited by hordes of bar- 
 barians, who hung like a dark cloud on the 
 
 ^ Quoted in Ramsay's 'Church in the Roman Empire,' p. 193. 
 
Social Inflttence of Missionary Efforts, y'j 
 
 frontier of the Roman State. It found its way 
 into these regions through Christian captives. A 
 bishop of the Goths attended the Council of 
 Nicsea. In 341 Ulphilas was consecrated to 
 labour among them. A sermon of Chrysostom, 
 preached in 398, pointed to Goths, one of whom 
 had addressed the congregation, as ''the most 
 savage race of men, but standing there together 
 with the lambs of the Church."^ Mission bands 
 had travelled through the forests of Germany and 
 introduced a civilisation concerning which it has 
 been said that " if modern life has not decayed 
 like ancient, and pure family life still supplies 
 fresh forces to races a thousand years old, this is 
 due above all to the teachings of Christ acting 
 on German barbaric virtue." ^ Now the fruit 
 of all this labour, as regarded from a social 
 view-point, was apparent when Goth and Hun 
 and Teuton found their opportunity in the con- 
 dition of Rome — its aristocracy enervated by 
 luxury, its population burdened by taxation, and 
 a vast proportion of it sunk in slavery. The 
 northern armies swept through the sunny plains 
 of Italy and ravaged the Eternal City. But a 
 double spell laid its arrest on them. They were 
 awed by the indefinable sense of the majesty of 
 
 1 Neander's Church History, vol. iii. p. 1S2. 
 
 2 Gesta Christi, p. 1 19. 
 
yS The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 Rome, as that was evidenced to them in the 
 splendour of its buildings, and the tokens of an 
 opulence of life which contrasted with the rude 
 simplicity of their Fatherlands. They were im- 
 pressed still more by the Christian sanctuaries; 
 and the obligations of the august name which 
 they had been taught to adore disposed them 
 to moderation, to respect women and children, 
 and to recognise the sanctity of the places of 
 Christian worship. No temple or church was 
 desecrated, and none who claimed the protec- 
 tion of the Church were injured. 
 
 Associated as the Church was with the Empire, 
 the lines of its development, as an organised social 
 force, were to some extent parallel to those of 
 the Empire. As the latter power had absorbed 
 nationalities and welded differences of race and 
 government into a vast, though not entirely 
 homogeneous, unity, so the Church gradually re- 
 duced ancient local independences, crushed out 
 diversities which seemed to menace the solidarity 
 of the system, and stiffened rule and ritual into 
 hard uniformities. The arrangements of the 
 Empire were largely adopted by the Church. 
 The provinces, with their proconsuls or procura- 
 tors, were frequently accepted as dioceses whose 
 chief officers were the bishops. In Roman ad- 
 ministration, above the proconsuls, there were 
 
The Growth of the Papacy. 79 
 
 dignitaries of patrician rank, the copestone 01 
 the poHtical edifice being the emperor. Simi- 
 larly in the Church, above the bishops there 
 were archbishops, metropolitans, patriarchs, the 
 supreme elevation being, after a time, accorded 
 to the Bishop of Rome. His claims were sup- 
 ported by the prestige of the great city, by the 
 sacredness which was attached to the chair of St 
 Peter, by the need of a head in the complexity 
 of interests which the advances of the Church 
 caused, and, it must be added, by unblushing 
 mendacities.^ When, in 476, the boy, Romulus 
 Augustus, was compelled to resign the shadow of 
 Roman sovereignty, the way was cleared for the 
 indisputable supremacy of the Roman See. The 
 bishop now took the place of the heathen Pon- 
 tifex Maximus. The emperor used to provide 
 alimentations for the poor, the bishop henceforth 
 did so. For three centuries, the see ** sat as the 
 ghost of the deceased Empire crowned on the 
 grave thereof." 
 
 Thus the Papacy assumed the most prominent 
 place in the organisation of the Church. But, in 
 occupying the standpoint which the beginning of 
 
 ^ E.g.^ the forgery of the Donation of Constantine, "whereby it 
 was pretended that power over Italy and the West had been granted 
 by the first Christian emperor to Pope Sylvester and his successors 
 in the chair of St Peter."— The Holy Roman Empire, p. 40. 
 
8o The Social Vocation of the Chttrch. 
 
 the tenth century presents, we are reminded of 
 great developments, great struggles that synchro- 
 nised with this gradual assumption, and that 
 impressed themselves on the political and reli- 
 gious condition of Europe. The Frankish-Roman 
 Empire had waxed and had waned. It origin- 
 ated in the felt necessity of a strong arm to pro- 
 tect the Church and Italy from external pressures 
 and from internal dissensions. Pepin, son of 
 Charles Martel, was, in 754, invested with the 
 purple of patrician of the Romans — "the first of 
 a long line of Teutonic kings who were to find 
 the love of Rome more deadly than her hate." 
 The mystic medieval Roman Empire was fully 
 inaugurated when Charles, Pepin's son, better 
 known as Charlemagne, kneeling before the altar 
 of Sl Peter's, received from the Pope the crown of 
 the Caesars. 
 
 There is no occasion to follow the course of 
 events, as that was shaped by this attempt to 
 unite Western Christendom. Charlemagne, mag- 
 num et orthodoxus Imperator, bequeathed a diadem 
 which sat uneasily on the brow of his successors, 
 and the benefits of which, lO the nations of the 
 West, were more than doubtful. " The epoch 
 of the Carlovingian dynasty," says Mr Hallam, 
 **was the worst that Europe has ever known, and 
 the social misery of that epoch extended into 
 
Church and State. 8 1 
 
 generations following."^ It is more relevant to 
 our present purpose to note the determination 
 of the Church's poHcy which coincides with this 
 epoch. 
 
 In the earHer part of the new regime, the 
 theory was that the spiritual and the temporal 
 monarchies were co-ordinate, the spiritual rul- 
 ing the souls, the temporal the bodies, of men. 
 But, on the principle that the soul is superior 
 to the body, the Church, at a later date, asserted 
 a sovereignty superior to that of the emperor — 
 an assertion which reached its climax in the 
 pontificate of Hildebrand (Gregory VII.) The 
 theory no longer was the union of Church and 
 State, but the ascendancy of the Church over 
 the State. The first duty of the State was to 
 serve the Church by repressing schism, by mak- 
 ing the judgments and acts of the Pope effectual, 
 and by rendering obedience in all things ; and 
 the artillery by which the Church enforced its 
 behests consisted in the terrors of excommuni- 
 cation and the release of subjects from allegi- 
 ance to their rulers. An ecclesiastical despotism 
 
 ^ The State of Europe during the Middle Ages, p. 23. It is 
 right, however, to say that it was the Church that, even in the 
 dark ages, kept learning alive, and that rendered possible the in- 
 stitution of the schools of Charlemagne (under Alcuin of York), 
 and thus secured to some extent both a learned clergy and an 
 educated laity. 
 
82 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 that reached its height between the tenth and 
 the twelfth centuries is the most prominent 
 feature in the external estate of the Church. 
 
 II. 
 
 Surveying the scene, then, as it is presented 
 in the ages loosely called the Middle Ages, the 
 situation is briefly this : The fusion of nations 
 has resulted in confusion, which there is no 
 power strong enough to remedy. Not the old 
 Empire, whose seat had been transferred to the 
 Bosphorus, for it was too weak even to con- 
 trol its centre. Not the Holy Roman Empire, 
 which was parting from its mystical ideal. The 
 ancient barbarian unities had been shaken, but 
 they had not been replaced by a higher unity. 
 New combinations were called for, but the answer 
 to the call was slow to come. The old had died, 
 but it had died hard ; the new had a difficult 
 birth, and a still more difficult growth. And the 
 Church, which should have been the unifying 
 force, shared in the general corruption. Out- 
 wardly, it was a magnificent and compacted 
 system. And in the interests of civilisation this 
 was good. Whatever of gentleness, of culture, 
 of higher life, was in these ages — and there was 
 much — was shielded from violence by it, and was 
 
The Middle Ages. 8 
 
 J 
 
 nourished within it. But it failed to educate a 
 pure pubHc morality, as it should have done ; 
 and this for two reasons. First, in borrowing 
 the clothes of the Empire, it exchanged the im- 
 perialism of truth for that of worldly power. 
 And second, in assimilating to its discipline 
 fragments of the paganisms which it conquered, 
 it appropriated not only things picturesque, 
 venerable through association with national his- 
 tories, and in themselves harmless, but other 
 elements that were foreign to the simplicity in 
 Christ and that bred superstitions. In respect 
 of its action on the deeper life of man, all 
 that was great and powerful in it issued from 
 the elect spirits — the saints, missionaries, and 
 learned theologians and doctors like Aquinas — 
 who, with a few exceptions, had no share in 
 the guidance of its outward policies. On the 
 occasion of a papal jubilee heaps of silver and 
 gold were borne into the treasury of St Peter. 
 The Pope said to Thomas Aquinas, " Peter 
 could not say now, ' Silver and gold have I 
 none.'" ''No," replied Thomas; ''No, your 
 Blessedness, nor could he say now, ' In the 
 name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and 
 walk.' "1 
 
 These middle ages were full of contradictions. 
 
 ^ Gore, The Mission of the Church, p. 169. 
 
84 The Social Vocation of the Church, 
 
 We call them dark ; and so, in some respects, 
 they were: but in them universities were founded, 
 many lamps were kindled by fire from Rome, if 
 not from heaven, and schoolmen and scholars, 
 whose pedantries must not render us forgetful of 
 their wonderful learning, traversed the Continent 
 propounding theses, holding disputations, labori- 
 ously writing treatises.^ We think of them as 
 disordered ; and so they were : but in them 
 cathedrals, and abbeys, and churches, were 
 reared whose architecture is the admiration of 
 our day. We look on them as lacking in 
 moral cohesion and social organisation ; and 
 so they were : but their guilds and fraternities, 
 though impossible in later periods, regulated 
 trades, established relations of protection and 
 sympathy between employers and employed, 
 and were surrounded by things beautiful and 
 picturesque. We speak of them as rough and 
 rude ; and so they were : but the reverence for 
 gentleness and humility was widely spread, 
 woman was elevated, the care of the orphan and 
 
 ^ Between the tentli and the twelfth centuries there was a 
 gradual awakenment of intellect. To this the Crusades, and, to- 
 wards the close of the time, the rediscovery of the whole writings 
 of Aristotle, contributed. From the thirteenth century to the 
 Renaissance the scholastic philosophy dominated. The doctors 
 were supreme. The decline of scholasticism developed a spirit 
 of freedom, and thus prepared the way for the Reformation. 
 
Feudalism. 85 
 
 the widow was secured by the noblesse oblige of 
 chivalry. A spiritual, poetical element was in- 
 fused into social life, and showed itself frequently 
 in unexpected ways. They were heroic ages, on 
 whose canvas are thrown the figures of mighty 
 men, men of renown. They were ages of en- 
 thusiasm, as the Crusades abundantly testify. 
 They were ages of faith. They were ages of 
 art. In respect of social condition, though the 
 mass of the people was exploited, mankind was 
 slowly moving towards emancipations. From 
 the tenth century, the manumission of serfs 
 became ever more frequent, *' the principal 
 cause," writes an old chronicler, " being piety 
 and love towards God." One of the Mendicant 
 Orders established in the thirteenth century — 
 the Franciscan — had for its object the tending 
 of the poor. 
 
 Regarding the social fabric in general, the 
 most characteristic feature of the centuries we 
 are reviewing was the system of Feudalism. 
 Possibly, the root of this system was the 
 Roman conception of the patronus. Be this as 
 it may, under the Frankish-Roman Empire, it 
 spread and dominated over Europe, gradually 
 displacing older German organisations and other 
 codes. In the first instance, feudalism was not 
 so much a political as a social development. 
 
86 The Social Vocal io?i of I he Clmrck. 
 
 In times when the executive was too weak to 
 make the State in its unity powerful in all dis- 
 tricts and over all elements of the nationality, it 
 was a rough-and-ready way of ensuring a kind 
 of order, a semblance at least of protection based 
 on the principle of reciprocal service. From the 
 ninth until the fourteenth century, it grew and 
 prevailed; and in its growth it assumed such 
 proportions, and ramified in so many directions, 
 that a description of it is impossible. Let it 
 suffice to say that the soil of the country was 
 held on the two conditions — that the owner 
 was responsible for the people resident on or 
 cultivating the soil, they, on the other hand, 
 being bound to follow his lead in war, and to 
 render obedience to him as their lord ; and, 
 further, that the lord or owner was under obli- 
 gation to give a like obedience to his suzerain, 
 who, in his turn, extended authority and pro- 
 tection to him. Over all suzerains or superiors 
 was the sovereign — the supreme and paramount 
 lord, the pulse of the machine, to whose call 
 the feudal chiefs, in every degree, were under 
 covenant to respond. Thus, as the years passed, 
 there arose territorial aristocracies and squire- 
 archies, with many gradations, each grade re- 
 producing the essential idea of the system, and 
 forming a ruling class so widely spread that a 
 
The Church a?td Feudalism. 87 
 
 kingdom represented an indefinite number of 
 small kingships, the monarch being, not so much 
 the one king and judge, as the head of all the 
 petty sovereignties, he their chief and they his 
 vassals. It is easy to see what scope for the 
 exercise of both virtues and vices such a state 
 of matters allowed. The good despot could do 
 much for those under his care, though, if he 
 were in the inferior ranks, his efforts might be 
 neutralised by the action of those above him. 
 The ambitious and unscrupulous kept vassals 
 and serfs alike in a thraldom which cut off all 
 occasions and even desires of social or material 
 improvement. The institution, as a whole, pre- 
 vented social life from " making increase to the 
 edifying of itself in love." Justice was a baron's 
 affair. The uses and wonts of a rougher and 
 earlier day had disappeared. The superior of 
 a domain had or took jurisdiction in it, even 
 to the extent of inflicting capital punishment. 
 It was not until the middle of the fourteenth 
 century that the majesty of imperial law as- 
 serted itself. 
 
 The Church fulfilled a mission of benevolence 
 to those whom feudality oppressed. It was so far 
 under the yoke, for its prelates and abbots were 
 feudal lords. But its influence was, on the whole 
 and vigorously, on the side of the villeins or serfs. 
 
88 The Social Vocation of the Chtirch, 
 
 In the estates which were held as its patrimonies 
 or baronies, the conditions of tenure were more 
 favourable to liberty and enterprise than in the 
 estates of barons or lairds obliged to do military 
 service. The bishop's riggs, or the abbey lands, 
 often presented a marked contrast to the riggs 
 and lands of the lay neighbours. In more direct 
 ways, however, Christianity interposed. The con- 
 dition of the Theoiis or serfs was deplorable. They 
 were fixed to the soil so that they could not re- 
 move from it. They were the absolute property 
 of their master. "They were not reckoned among 
 the people." The Church protested and laboured 
 against this servitude. " That Christians should 
 be removed from it," the Council of Chalons in 
 the middle of the seventh century declared to be 
 *' the demand of the highest pity and religion."^ 
 A historian of the middle ages asserts, as has 
 already been noticed, that pietas et caritas ergo 
 Deum was the more frequent cause of the libera- 
 tion of serfs ; and the forms of manumission 
 witness to the penetration of society by a Christ- 
 ian spirit. The Crusades aided the movement. 
 They realised the ideal of a Christian common- 
 wealth in which high and low were equally sharers. 
 The enthusiasm which they inspired tended to 
 break down the barriers between class and class. 
 
 1 Gesta Christi, p. 128. 
 
Monks a7id Monachism. 89 
 
 Feudal chiefs, before joining in the crusade, re- 
 leased their slaves. How far Christian sentiment 
 operated in diffusing the sentiments of humanity 
 is evidenced in a proclamation of the Emperor 
 Sigismund towards the middle of the fifteenth 
 century. *' It is an unheard-of thing," so runs 
 the proclamation, "that in the holy Christianity 
 one should be so proud as to say to a man, ' Thou 
 art mine.' He is against Christ, and all the com- 
 mandments of God are lost on him." 
 
 In the Latin Church (as distinguished from 
 the Eastern), the most characteristic trend of the 
 mediaeval period was the expansion, followed by 
 the decadence, of monachism. In this we recog- 
 nise a spirit and a habit which were imported into 
 the Church. Palestinian Essenism left its mark 
 on some of Christ's disciples. But, ages before 
 the day of Christ, the ascetic spirit was prevalent 
 in the East. It came into Christianity, and it 
 came to stay. It was fostered by the antagonism, 
 which pious souls keenly felt, of a world that 
 seemed to them to be lying in the wicked one. 
 The cliffs and sandhills of Syria and Egypt were 
 perforated by the cells of eremites, endeavouring, 
 in solitary contemplation, to realise the peace 
 for which they sought in vain in the haunts of 
 men. And since man, even when ascetic, is a 
 social animal, companies of Christians flying from 
 
90 The Social Vocation of the Church, 
 
 the world, and giving themselves wholly to God, 
 were formed. Before the thirteenth century there 
 were many orders of monks, including the order of 
 St Benedict with all its branches. From the thir- 
 teenth to the sixteenth century, the Dominicans, 
 with their subdivisions, were organised. Time 
 would fail for even the most cursory account of 
 the spread of the conventual system. The monas- 
 tery and the convent were everywhere in evidence. 
 They were regarded with special favour. Charle- 
 magne called abbots the chivalry of his empire. 
 Lands and gifts were lavishly bestowed on them. 
 In the earlier half of the middle ages, all that was 
 most devoted in the ranks of ecclesiastics was con- 
 nected with them. The regular clergy — that is, 
 the clergy under conventual rule — were, taken as 
 a whole, superior in learning, zeal, and piety to 
 the secular or parochial clergy. 
 
 Justice compels us to acknowledge the debt of 
 Christian civilisation to the religious orders. The 
 monastery was not merely a refuge for the in- 
 dolent or the feeble or those who were weary 
 of life. It was much more : it was a home for 
 those who, under conditions of society that were 
 unfavourable to the cultivation of piety, sought 
 in it that opportunity of living religiously which 
 they desired. It was, as the ministry of the 
 Church through all the centuries was, an equal- 
 
The Decline of Monachism. 91 
 
 ising institution. All classes from the highest 
 to the lowest found a place in the orders of St 
 Benedict or St Dominic. The Regulars were 
 the intermediaries between the rich and the 
 poor. '' The friendship of the poor," says St 
 Bernard, " constitutes us the friends of kings, 
 but the love of poverty makes kings of us." ^ 
 If we ask, Who were the erudite men of the 
 time ? we find that a large majority, including 
 Aquinas, Duns Scotus, &c., was composed of 
 monks. The preachers, some of them mighty 
 in eloquence, were monks. The great mission- 
 aries were monks. From the orders of Bene- 
 dictines came those who laid the foundations 
 of the Christian society in England, Germany, 
 and Belgium. In days of fierce warfare and 
 bloody feuds, the Regulars promoted the truces 
 and peaces of God. They were friends of the 
 people in their revolts from oppression : the 
 monks of Cluny, for instance, rose against 
 the abuses of feudalism. They were the en- 
 gineers, the architects, the farmers, the builders 
 of their generations. They undertook journeys 
 through Europe, preaching Christian brotherhood 
 in many lands. Even when the first love was 
 lost, when wealth on the one hand and super- 
 stition on the other caused *' the white to grow 
 
 ^ The Monks of the West, vol. i. p. 54. 
 
92 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 murky," there were those of them of whom the 
 world was not worthy, those to whom the word 
 written concerning Benedict might be appHed, 
 ^^Ipse Fundator placidce qiiietis.'" ^ 
 
 But — to quote the w^ords of Count Montalem- 
 bert, the panegyrist of the monks of the West — 
 " there came a time when the abuse of monachism 
 overpowered the law, when the exception eclipsed 
 the rule," when " life ebbed away from the mon- 
 astic foundations, not religious life only, but life of 
 every kind."^ Dante represents St Benedict him- 
 self as saying to the poet, who craves to look on 
 his form " by no covering veiled " — 
 
 " My rule 
 Is left a profitless stain upon the leaves ; 
 The walls for abbey reared turned into dens ; 
 The cowls to sacks choked up with musty meal. 
 Foul usury doth not more lift itself 
 Against God's pleasure than that fruit which makes 
 The hearts of monks so wanton." ^ 
 
 The champions of monachism say that the 
 houses should have been reformed and the orders 
 reconstituted. But the reformer who had power 
 to give effect to his plan did not appear. Instead 
 of him was heard the sterner voice, *' Cut down, 
 why cumber they the ground ? " " When," ex- 
 claimed Bossuet, *' a religious order becomes 
 
 1 The Monks of the West, vol. i. p. 87. ^ ibid., pp. 132, 142. 
 
 ' Paradiso, Canto 22. 
 
The Dawn of a Neiv Period. 93 
 
 inferior, it is no longer anything but a spiritual 
 corpse and its own living tomb."^ As the era of 
 Reformation dawned, the conventual fellowships 
 were proved to be spiritual corpses, tombs, not 
 nurseries, of life. And thus it fares with all 
 attempts of men " to wind themselves too high 
 for mortal man beneath the sky." The social 
 life which Christianity takes to its heart is a 
 robust and hardy plant that needs thfe fresh 
 free air of heaven, and the regulation, not the 
 suppression, of the affections implanted in the 
 heart. We feel that the swift witness against 
 monachism was both stern and just, whilst at 
 the same time we recognise that "if we follow 
 the furrows which monastery and order have dug 
 in history we shall find everywhere the traces of 
 their beneficence." ^ 
 
 The decline of the papacy may be dated 
 from the fourteenth century. Its authority was 
 weakened by flagrant scandals, by the removal 
 of the papal court to Avignon and the residence 
 of popes there for several decades, by the elec- 
 tion of rival popes, the nominees of rival 
 empires, and by the general deterioration of 
 morals among the clergy. Other influences 
 were also active. Europe was beginning to 
 awake from a long and deep intellectual 
 
 ^ The Monks of the West, vol. i. p. 149. ^ Ibid., p. 163. 
 
94 The Social Vocation of the CJmrch. 
 
 slumber. Classical learning revived. Indi- 
 vidual minds were stirred. Preachers, keenly 
 perceptive of the evils of their time, waxed 
 bold. Associations, inspired by a more free and 
 evangelical spirit than that of the orders, were 
 originated, and their influence spread. As the 
 fifteenth century advanced, the signs of a com- 
 ing day of the Lord became more and more 
 clear. That day came in the sixteenth century. 
 
 But here we approach the border -land of 
 modern history, and this marks the limit of the 
 present survey. 
 
 Our object has been to indicate some of the 
 principles, features, and issues, of the aggressive 
 action of the Church, as an institution with a 
 definite social character and mission. We have 
 followed its onward way through the storms 
 which beset it in earlier days, and the confu- 
 sions which resulted from the decline and the 
 ultimate disruption of the great Roman Empire. 
 We have seen it gathering nations under its 
 wings, and planting civilisations in the lands of 
 Europe and beyond. The dark shadows on its 
 history it is easy to trace ; but these must not 
 be so projected as to thrust out of sight the 
 social benefits which were wrought. It is no 
 exaggeration to afiirm that, but for the Church 
 and municipal government, Italy would have 
 
The Actio7i of the Church on Society. 95 
 
 been wrecked, and Europe would have pre- 
 sented the spectacle of a multitude of states 
 more or less barbarous, everlastingly at feud, and 
 without any bond of unity. If the Church could 
 not curb the ambitions of princes and the feuds 
 of nobles, if, too often, in its policy it played 
 the part of a power more wily than any world- 
 power, yet, in the labours and services of its 
 clergy, its missionaries, its fraternities, it vindi- 
 cated the cause of the weak and asserted the 
 rights of the something that is in all men — the 
 rights of humanity. By its communications, by 
 the communions between peoples which it estab- 
 lished, by the witness which it bore to a good 
 of which all nations were partakers, it realised 
 in dim outline *' a parliament of man, a federa- 
 tion of the world." Why it did not more 
 rapidly and surely Christianise the continent 
 which owned its sway, is a question the reply 
 to which is manifold. But it brought in large 
 measures of good, and it prepared for still 
 larger measures in future times. It gave ideals 
 of virtue, freedom, love. It infused the spirit 
 of reverence into the civilisation it guided. It 
 opened up idealisations of life that checked the 
 scramble for mere material and territorial gain, 
 that softened the coarseness of manners, that 
 inculcated the dignity of womanhood, that pro- 
 
96 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 claimed the sanctity of the home, that enjoined 
 the duty of the strong to support the weak. 
 The tares indeed grew in rank luxuriance, 
 threatening often to choke the wheat, but the 
 wheat remained — pure grain and wholesome — in 
 the midst of manifold corruption. 
 
97 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 NATIONAL CHURCHES AND THEIR SOCIAL WORK. 
 
 Looking beyond the limits of Palestine, and far 
 away into " dim and distant courses " of the 
 future, our Lord contemplated other sheep than 
 those of the Jewish fold, whom to bring, He 
 declared, was the necessity of His mission, in 
 order that, hearing His voice, they might be 
 made partakers of His grace, and in their several 
 folds— i.e., the varieties of their estate — might 
 be comprehended in one world-wide and world- 
 without-end flock, under the guidance of Himself, 
 the one universal Shepherd.^ The ideal of the 
 Christian brotherhood which He thus presents is 
 a catholicity which allows ample scope for diver- 
 sities. St Paul gives another form to the con- 
 ception of his Master when he says that in the 
 new humanity which Christians '' put on," " there 
 cannot be Greek and Jew, circumcision and un- 
 circumcision, barbarian, Scythian, bondman, free- 
 
 1 St John X. i6. 
 G 
 
98 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 man, but Christ is all and in all." The point of 
 his assertion is, not that the distinctions which 
 he indicates are obliterated, but that, in the large 
 and charitable air of Christianity, they are no 
 longer causes of separation ; they are only as the 
 differing tones which blend in noble music, the 
 discords which they once denoted having been 
 quenched by the *' meeting harmonies " of the 
 Gospel, which has made peace between Jew and 
 Gentile, and revealed the Christ of God as the 
 Redeemer and Head of mankind. For there are 
 affinities of race and blood, rooted in the nature 
 of things, that link peoples together in special 
 intimacies, forming climates of thought and 
 feeling by which all are subtly affected. To 
 ignore these affinities, is impossible ; to make 
 room for them, permeating them at the same 
 time by the Spirit of the Lord, and subordinating 
 them to the accomplishment of the ends common 
 to the whole Christian society, is the secret of 
 a truly catholic community. The vision of the 
 Church triumphant that thrilled the heart of St 
 John was that of '*a great multitude, which no 
 man could number, out of every nation, and of all 
 tribes and peoples and tongues, standing before 
 the throne and before the Lamb." ^ National, 
 tribal, language, variations are recognised; but 
 
 ^ Revelation vii. 9. 
 
National Diversities. 99 
 
 they are the elements of the eternal unity, the 
 notes that are harmonised in the great voice 
 of praise, " Unto our God Who sitteth on the 
 throne, and unto the Lamb." 
 
 In the fluid period of the Church's history, there 
 was no difficulty in combining national and tribal 
 diversities with the idea of the one Church. For 
 the unity then was spiritual rather than ecclesias- 
 tical. There was the *' one Lord, one faith, one 
 baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over 
 all, and through all, and in all.''^ It was enough 
 that those who believed were baptised into Christ 
 and remained steadfast in the " apostles' teaching 
 and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and the 
 prayers."^ They formed companies, separated, 
 by their faith and worship, from many of the 
 religious observances and social customs of the 
 civic societies that constituted their environment, 
 yet otherwise maintaining the relations of citizen- 
 ship towards these societies. But, as the ages 
 progressed, complications ensued. The govern- 
 ment of the Church, as we have seen, was 
 gradually consolidated on lines in many respects 
 parallel to those of the Empire. From the ninth 
 century, when the supremacy of the Roman See 
 was complete, the tendency was in the direction 
 of a uniformity of rule and ritual with which local 
 
 ^ Ephesians iv. 5, 6. 2 ^^,^5 jj^ ^2. 
 
loo TJie Social Vocation of the CJntrch. 
 
 and national differences were apt to collide. By 
 its insistence on religious unity, Christianity had 
 always opposed Polytheism, with its many gods 
 and many rites, but, in the earlier days, elastici- 
 ties, in the details of discipline, were not regarded 
 as inconsistent with the truth of an essentially 
 spiritual unity. In proportion as the government 
 of the Church became ohgarchical, and finally 
 monarchical, these elasticities were discounten- 
 anced as incompatible with the solidarity of the 
 ecclesiastical system. 
 
 Along with this Church development, we observe 
 a change in the plan of the Church's aggressive 
 campaign. The more primitive Christianity aimed 
 at the conversion of individual souls. The work- 
 ing of the faith was often from the base upwards. 
 *' God chose the foolish things of the world, that 
 He might put to shame them that are wise ; and 
 God chose the weak things of the world, that He 
 might put to shame the things that are strong."^ 
 But, in later missions, the object was to reach the 
 head of the tribe or nation, to secure his adhesion, 
 and then through him to win the people to the 
 adoption of the new way. And two consequences 
 resulted. The one, that ancient customs remained, 
 with at least a certain potency, in the nominally 
 Christian community. The policy of the Church 
 
 ^ I Corinthians i. 27. 
 
Frictions and Schisms. loi 
 
 was, not to tear up the social organism by the 
 roots, but to reconsecrate customs that were vener- 
 ated, transferring them to Christian observances, 
 and thus ingrafting much of the old order into the 
 new. The traditions of the nation were allowed 
 some room in the adopted religion. And the 
 other consequence was, that peoples, as such, 
 maintained their integrity, and imparted a savour 
 of their nationality to the forms of their worship. 
 Although in the essentials of the truth and in 
 the deference paid to the Supreme Pontiff there 
 was a substantial consensus, differences in usage, 
 in that nameless force which we may call national 
 temper, in tones of thought and view, were in 
 many ways made evident. The Church was out- 
 wardly one, but, like Joseph's coat, it had many 
 colours. 
 
 Accordingly, frictions which it required all the 
 diplomacy of curias and legates to adjust, which 
 sometimes involved the exercise of the terrors 
 of the Church, were of frequent occurrence. One 
 occasion of strife was not adjusted : the result of 
 the feud was the great schism between the East 
 and the West ; and the groups of churches which 
 adhered to the East and its custom were, and to 
 this day are, mirrors of the mind of the peoples 
 they represent — a mind stationary, even stagnant, 
 rigid as the dead man's hand which is laid on the 
 
I02 The Social Vocation of the Chirch. 
 
 Patriarch of one of the Oriental Communions at 
 his consecration. But, in Western Christendom, 
 questions affecting national use and wont, in- 
 stitutions into sees and benefices, the rights of 
 sovereigns, the imposition of Papal tributes, and 
 so forth, were constant matters of dispute. The 
 terrible power of excommunication exercised by 
 the Church — laying sovereigns or their peoples, 
 or both, under ban and curse — is an evidence at 
 once of the despotism of Rome, and of the 
 writhing of nationalities under it. 
 
 Selecting as a special instance that which most 
 nearly concerns us, let us trace historically the 
 assertion of the national spirit in, or against, the 
 Church in the British Isles. 
 
 That assertion was more marked in these isles 
 than in Continental countries. Their isolation, 
 and the character and genius of their peoples, 
 accounted for this. Moreover, England was not 
 so firmly riveted to the feudal system as they 
 had been. For, William of Normandy, in con- 
 quering it, modified that system, and brought 
 the Crown into more direct contact with the life 
 of the nation than was realised in Teutonic feudal- 
 ism, or had been realised in the Saxon period. 
 
 The law of England, indeed, was unchallenged 
 by Rome for five centuries after Augustine landed 
 in Thanet, a.d. 596. No appeal was taken, no 
 
Nationality of the Clm7xli in England. 103 
 
 cause was submitted to the revision of the Holy 
 See, until the reign of King Stephen. And, how- 
 ever loyal to Mother Church monarchs might be, 
 though occasionally, for the furtherance of their 
 own purposes, they might make concessions to the 
 Pope, every reader of English history knows that, 
 both under the Norman and the Plantagenet 
 dynasties, a jealous eye was kept on all acts, 
 overt or covert, which encroached on the pre- 
 rogatives of the sovereign or the liberties of the 
 realm. About the middle of the fourteenth cen- 
 tury the statute called Prcemunire was passed,^ a 
 statute that forbade a suit to any foreign Court 
 " whereof the cognisance pertaineth to the King's 
 Court, under the penalty of outlawry and forfeiture 
 of goods." And, towards the close of the same 
 century, the indomitable English spirit rings 
 through words that specially refer to Rome — 
 " They and all the king's commons will stand 
 with our lord the king, and his said Crown and 
 regality, in the cases aforesaid, and in all other 
 cases attempted against him, to live and to die." ^ 
 Archbishops and bishops concurred in this deter- 
 mination ; the vox popiili and the vox ecclesice were 
 in unison over it. Thus it was that, when Henry 
 Vni., actuated by motives far from lofty, re- 
 
 ^ Passed in the twenty-seventh year of the reign of Edward III. 
 - In the preamble of Statutes, a. d. 1392. 
 
I04 The Social Vocatiojt of the Church. 
 
 nounced allegiance to the pope and proclaimed 
 the Crown supreme over all Estates of the realm, 
 *' old and authentic histories " ^ could be appealed 
 to in vindication of the immemorial nationality of 
 the English Church. 
 
 The early history of Christianity in Scotland 
 is shrouded in obscurity. Out of the haze two 
 names, sacred and venerable, emerge : Ninian, 
 the apostle of Galloway, who built his famous 
 Candida Casa about the end of the fourth century, 
 and Kentigern or Munghu, the apostle of Strath- 
 clyde, who, towards the close of the sixth century, 
 had "his own church of Glasgu." But for the 
 beginning of organised and continuous effort we 
 must turn our gaze to I, Hy, or lona, of which 
 even Dr Johnson, with his stubborn contempt of 
 all that was Scotch, could write with enthusiasm 
 as the '' illustrious island which was once the 
 luminary of the Caledonian regions, whence 
 savage clans and roving barbarians received 
 
 ^ In the preamble of Statutes, 24 Henry VIII. The words 
 follow : " The determination of questions, in any cause of the law 
 divine, belongs to that part of the said body politic called the 
 Spirituality, being usually called the English Church, which always 
 hath been regarded and also found of this sort that, both for know- 
 ledge, integrity, and sufficiency of number, it hath been always 
 thought, and is also, at this time, sufficient and meet of itself, without 
 the intermeddling of any exterior person, to declare and determine 
 all such offices and duties as to their rooms spiritual doth 
 appertain." 
 
Nationality of the Church in Scotland. 105 
 
 the benefits of knowledge and the blessings of 
 religion." The story of the Irish exile, St 
 Columba, and of his monks, of his successors, 
 of the ancient Celtic Church, has been so often 
 told, and told with such effect in past Baird 
 Lectures, that there is no need to recall it. 
 The only point, now to be emphasised in con- 
 nection with it, is the independence manifest 
 in its constitution, in its customs, and in the 
 manner of its operations. In the sixth century, 
 the domination of Rome had not been estab- 
 lished, and the small but vigorous community, 
 whose sanctuary was the remote Western isle, 
 had a comparatively free hand in the ordering 
 of its way. " It was in a sense," says Principal 
 Fairbairn, ^' a native growth, organised according 
 to Celtic ideas, and not according to Roman. 
 The monasteries were missionary foundations, 
 colleges where evangelists and preachers were 
 trained, possessed of apostolic doctrine and 
 authority within themselves. Episcopacy ex- 
 isted, as there were bishops ; but it was not 
 diocesan, its sphere was congregational or com- 
 munal rather than territorial. And this character 
 the Church retained so long as Scotland remained 
 a Celtic kingdom ; when it ceased to be this, the 
 Church underwent a parallel transformation." ^ 
 
 ^ Contemporary Review, p. 133. 
 
io6 The Social Vocation of the Church, 
 
 The chief instrument in this transformation 
 was the Saxon princess Margaret, who shared 
 with Malcolm III. the throne of Scotland. She 
 was ''a woman nobly planned," whose gifts and 
 graces are deservedly held in grateful remem- 
 brance. But her elevation to queenly rank and 
 power rang the knell of the Celtic Church. 
 Augustine, the head of the Roman mission to 
 England, railed at the uncouthness of the Scottish 
 clergy. Margaret found them, not only uncouth, 
 but ignorant and indolent. They had fallen from 
 the high level of their ancestry. Retaining the 
 old peculiarities as to the tonsure, the time of 
 Lent and Easter, and other matters, they had 
 lost the old missionary spirit. Fasts and festivals 
 of the Church were disregarded. They worked 
 on Sunday, though they rested on Saturday. 
 The Holy Eucharist was seldom celebrated. 
 They gave little or no instruction to the 
 people. Their influence was on the whole per- 
 nicious. Family life, all life, was corrupt. The 
 consort of the big rough Malcolm was an acute 
 theologian, and a devout adherent of the Latin 
 Church. She argued ; she acted. The Abbey of 
 Dunfermline is a monument to the pious queen. 
 But she had a better monument— that which re- 
 sulted from her strenuous endeavours to rectify 
 the abuses that prevailed, and to diffuse spiritual 
 
Scottish Resistance to English Claims. 107 
 
 and intellectual light among the half-barbarous 
 people of her husband's realm. Her example 
 was a guiding star for her children, especially 
 her younger son, David, who ultimately became 
 king — the " sair sanct for the Crown." 
 
 Until the reign of David, the Church was little 
 else than a desultory agency. But he carried out 
 the ideas of his mother. It is probable that, before 
 his time, there was a Bishop of St Andrews ; but 
 of secular clergy there is no trace in any deed. 
 David founded bishoprics and religious houses, 
 and began a formal division of the country into 
 dioceses and parishes. He organised the spiritual 
 army. The Church, from the date of his reign, 
 grew in wealth and in power. 
 
 Its nationality was evidenced in a character- 
 istically Scottish fashion — not primarily in resist- 
 ance to Rome, but in resistance to the claims of 
 England. Submission to the pope was the cover 
 under which it repelled the attempted supremacy 
 of the See of York. It would acknowledge no 
 headship but that of the chair of St Peter. After 
 long contentions, in which victory seemed often 
 doubtful, it established its independence of Eng- 
 land, the price paid being subjection to the pope. 
 But, even in regard to the pope, the sturdy national 
 spirit repeatedly flashed forth. The clergy would 
 not attend, they refused to acknowledge, councils 
 
io8 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 in England, though summoned to them in the 
 pope's name by his legate. And kings would not 
 brook what appeared to be interferences. When 
 Alexander of Scotland, entertained at York by 
 Henry III. of England, was informed by a car- 
 dinal that he had been deputed by the Court of 
 Rome to visit Scotland, and to take cognisance 
 of its ecclesiastical condition, the Scottish king 
 replied, " I have never seen a legate in my 
 dominions, and, as long as I live, I never will." 
 The cardinal persisted in fulfilling his instruc- 
 tions, but the king refused to see him, and, 
 "without leave asked," he hurriedly departed.^ 
 
 Such were the expressions of the spirit of 
 nationality in the two kingdoms which now 
 happily form Great Britain. But the main 
 issue with which we are concerned is, the social 
 efficiency of the National Churches, and it will 
 be conceded that a condition indispensable to this 
 efficiency is a thorough system of ministration — 
 a division of the country into small areas or 
 territories, each provided with a machinery by 
 which, in dependence on God's spirit, the bless- 
 ings of religion can be diffused, and the aims of the 
 Christian society can be realised. In the National 
 Churches of Great Britain there is such a division, 
 and for each of the areas or territories of the divi- 
 
 ^ Cunningham's Church History of Scotland, vol. i. p. 162. 
 
Parochial Ecojioniy. 1 09 
 
 sion there is a sustenance, greater or less — an en- 
 dowment for the supply of Christian ordinances. 
 The origin and growth of this parochial economy 
 is an interesting, and not unimportant, subject. 
 
 In the ''land of the long agos," the parochia or 
 parish was equivalent to what in later times was 
 called the diocese ; it was the district which the 
 chief pastor ruled. When this was the case, 
 there seems to have been a common purse, re- 
 plenished by the offerings of the faithful in the 
 parish, and distributed by the bishop amongst the 
 clergy, who were sent forth to plant churches, 
 and to preach the Gospel of the kingdom. These 
 offerings are related to an ordinance or a custom 
 called the tithe or tenth. Now, we do not know 
 the precise period at which the tithe, as a religious 
 obligation, was enforced. There are traces of it 
 in the third Christian century, and it was offici- 
 ally recognised as a statutory Christian duty in 
 the fourth century.^ Charlemagne, in 788, gave 
 legal sanction to its collection, but this only in 
 confirmation of it as authorised by the Word of 
 God. His sanction was limited to the Prankish 
 Empire. But the widespread acceptance of the 
 tithe is otherwise evidenced. Three years, for ex- 
 ample, before Charlemagne's decree, legates from 
 
 ^ There is evidence of it in the treatises of St Ambrose and St 
 Augustine. 
 
I lo The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 Rome appeared in England with twenty-nine con- 
 stitutions or instructions, and one of these contains 
 the words, " We do solemnly enjoin that all take 
 care to pay the tenth of all that they possess, be- 
 cause that pecuHarly belongs to God, and let them 
 live and give alms out of the nine parts." ^ " The 
 tithe," writes Professor Freeman, "can hardly be 
 said to have been granted by the State. The case 
 rather is, that the Church preached the payment 
 of tithes as a duty, and that the State gradually 
 came to enforce this duty by legal sanctions." ^ 
 
 Before the Council of Lateran, 1179-80, the 
 tithe might be bestowed, at the pleasure of the 
 tithe-payer, on any church or monastery, or it 
 might be placed in the hands of the bishop for 
 " other pious purposes according to his discre- 
 tion." But when provinces or dioceses were 
 divided, and the word " parish " was applied to 
 the separate divisions, '' the tithes of each parish 
 were allotted to its own particular minister, first 
 by common consent or appointment of the lord of 
 the manor, and afterwards by law."^ The party 
 receiving the parochial tithes was called the rec- 
 tor, but this party might be either the parson 
 
 1 Seldcn's History of Tithes, chap. viii. 
 ' Freeman, p. 19. 
 
 2 Digest of the Law of Real Property, sec. 53 ; Rlackstone' 
 Commentaries, vol. i. p. 112. 
 
Tithes and their Apportionment. 1 1 1 
 
 serving the cure, who was then the rector of the 
 parish, or it might be a monastery or a rehgious 
 corporation, in which case the minister serving 
 the cure, as the representative of the monastery 
 or corporation, was styled the vicar, and received 
 as his stipend a portion of the tithes — *'the small 
 tithe," as it was called. There were differences 
 of custom in the apportionment of the tithes in 
 different countries. In some, there was a division 
 into four parts — one part for the minister, one 
 part for the poor, one part for the church fabric, 
 and one part for the bishop. In others, there 
 was a tripartite division. In others, again, the 
 bishop received all, and distributed the amount 
 as seemed good to him. Lord Selborne has shown 
 that such formal apportionments did not obtain in 
 England ; and they did not obtain in Scotland.^ 
 
 The beginning and the growth of the parochial 
 system, with a provision for the celebration of 
 worship and for the religious and social work of 
 the Church, are difficult to trace. The system was 
 more or less in evidence at a time long anterior to 
 any action by the State. For its origination we 
 are mainly indebted to the piety or the supersti- 
 tion of lords of manors and owners of lands. 
 **When," writes Selden as to England, "devo- 
 tion grew firmer, and most laymen of fair estate 
 
 ^ Defence of the Church of England, chaps, vii,, viii. 
 
1 1 2 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 desired the country residence of some chaplains 
 that might be always ready for Christian instruc- 
 tion among them, their families, and adjoining 
 tenants, oratories and churches began to be built 
 by their orders, and, being hallowed by the 
 bishop, were endowed with peculiar maintenance 
 from the founders for the incumbents that should 
 there only reside. Out of these lay foundations 
 chiefly came those kind of parishes which at this 
 day are in every diocese ; their differences in 
 quantity being originally out of the differences 
 of the several circuits of the demesnes or terri- 
 tories possessed by the founders."-^ 
 
 In Scotland, the process in the formation of 
 parishes was similar to that in the southern 
 kingdom. There was an ecclesiastical arrange- 
 ment for generations before any formal sanction 
 was given by the State. How remote the date of 
 the first ecclesiastical arrangements was may be 
 inferred from this, that, as early as the twelfth 
 century, the lands devoted to the ministration of 
 religion or for religious orders by the Scottish 
 Crown were by statute made subject to the 
 payment of tithes. " This payment," observes 
 Sheriff Johnston, "came to be so general that 
 the obligation gradually acquired the force of 
 law universally applicable to all land through- 
 
 ^ History of Tithes, vol. iii. chap. ix. 
 
Establishment of National Chitrches. 1 1 3 
 
 out the country without inquiry into past dedi- 
 cation or reservation." ^ 
 
 Thus, the parochial economy of the National 
 Churches of Great Britain was consoHdated and 
 established. Our condemnation of the middle 
 ages as being dark and dreary may be qualified 
 by the recollection, that we are indebted to the 
 piety (however at many points misinformed) and 
 the liberality of men who lived in them for insti- 
 tutions that have largely contributed to the mak- 
 ing of the English and Scottish peoples. And, 
 with reference to these institutions, it is well — in 
 view of statements which are persistently made — 
 to be reminded that they were not, and are not, 
 mere State Churches. They were not created 
 by the State. They are not departments of the 
 State. Public law only confirmed them in the 
 position which they occupied, antecedently to any 
 legal recognition, as the branches of the Church 
 of Christ in the realms. At the Reformation of 
 the Church in the sixteenth century, no novel 
 framework was introduced. The old framework, 
 lightened of some of its objectionable features, 
 was continued under altered circumstances. 
 There were 8467 parishes in England when 
 King Henry VIII. severed the connexion of the 
 English Church with the Roman See. These 
 
 1 Handbook of Scottish Church Defence, p. 177. 
 H 
 
1 1 4 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 parishes remained as they had been, though 
 they were afterwards modified. In Scotland, 
 there were 940 parishes : they were also con- 
 tinued, though at a later date they, too, were 
 modified. And each parish possessed an en- 
 dowment, not out of a common fund, not in 
 consequence of any general tax, but an endow- 
 ment belonging to itself, the fruit of the tithes 
 of a past age, which the civil magistrate had 
 secured in permanent form for the glory of 
 God and the service of the people. 
 
m 
 
 CHAPTER Vil. 
 
 NATIONAL REFORMED CHURCHES — THE CHURCH 
 OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 The effect of the great ecclesiastical upheaval in 
 the sixteenth century on the development of 
 national life, and of a national spirit in Christen- 
 dom, was far-reaching. In its nobler aspect, this 
 upheaval marked an endeavour after re-formation 
 — that is, the forming of the Church back on the 
 lines indicated in the New Testament. The Pro- 
 testers felt that ''what is first is best," that it is 
 a more exact interpretation of the ideal. They 
 did not question the progression of thought, but 
 they held that the progression had been diverted 
 from its legitimate course, by the growth of the 
 hierarchical spirit, by the importation into Chris- 
 tianity of elements that were alien to it, and by 
 the corruption of the simplicity of Christ through 
 the dogmas, practices, and ramifications of the 
 Papacy. Therefore, from the Cassar of Rome 
 
I T 6 The Social Vocation of the Chtcrch. 
 
 they appealed to the Lord and King of souls, and 
 to His voice in the Word that is inspired and 
 illumined by His Spirit. 
 
 It was an appeal fraught with manifold danger. 
 Withdrawing the mediation of priest and Church, 
 setting the individual in direct relation with God, 
 and bidding him " prove all things and hold fast 
 that which is good," it was apt to foster an 
 individualism which easily degenerated into 
 anarchy. In point of fact, this anarchical licence 
 was one of the shadows that continually stole 
 across the track of the Reformation, and that it 
 required all the skill and the courage of its leaders 
 to counteract. Moreover, the conception of the 
 unity of the Church was rudely disturbed. The 
 authority of Rome and its bishop was flouted. 
 In the view of those who broke away from the 
 Papacy, there was no longer any one visible 
 centre ; and Christian communities, reflecting 
 the separations and jealousies of the nations to 
 which they ministered, became, or were in peril 
 of becoming, self-centred. An interesting letter 
 of Calvin, containing his reply to an invitation of 
 Archbishop Cranmer to attend a council in 
 London for the promotion of unity, indicates the 
 extent of the isolating tendency in his day, and 
 the sorrow with which he regarded it. *' The 
 body of Christ," he writes, " is torn asunder 
 
The Fellowship of Reformed Churches. 1 1 7 
 
 because the members are separated. So far as I 
 am concerned, if I can be of any use, I will 
 readily pass over ten seas to effect the object in 
 view." ^ 
 
 Another kind of centre than the visible centre 
 of the Latin Church was necessary. The Re- 
 formed Churches declared that this centre is in 
 heaven and heavenly, not on earth and earthly. 
 They maintained that it is the living Christ 
 Himself, the Head of the body. Who filleth 
 all in all. In so far as human expressions of 
 this invisible omnipresence are concerned, they 
 found a witness for unity in the consensus of 
 testimony presented in the symbols of the Re- 
 formed Churches ; and they promoted the sense 
 of unity by interchanges of thought between 
 Universities and Churches. " The catholicity of 
 the Reformation," observes Dr Merle d'Aubigne, 
 *' is a noble feature in its character. The Ger- 
 mans pass into Switzerland, the French into 
 Germany, in later times men from England 
 and Scotland pass over to the Continent, and 
 doctors from the Continent into Great Britain. 
 
 ^ " This is to be ranked among the chief evils of our time — that 
 the Churches are so divided that human fellowship is scarcely now 
 in any repute amongst us, far less that Christian intercourse which 
 all make a profession of, but few sincerely practise." — Letters of 
 John Calvin, vol. ii. pp. 332, 333. Henry's Life of Calvin, vol. ii. 
 p. 126, 
 
1 1 8 The Social Vocation of the Chttrch. 
 
 The Reformers, in the different countries, spring 
 up almost independently of each other; but no 
 sooner are they born than they hold out the 
 right hand of fellowship. There is among them 
 one sole faith, one spirit, one Lord. It has 
 been an error, in our opinion, to write the 
 history of the Reformation for a single country. 
 The work is one, and from their origin the 
 Protestant Churches form a whole body fitly 
 joined together." ^ 
 
 The consciousness of a higher and all-com- 
 prehending unity is evidenced in the standards, 
 as in the action, of Reformed Churches in the 
 earlier period of their history. No country was 
 more subject to isolating influences than Scot- 
 land, yet there is the vision of a communion not 
 restricted by national limits, in the Second Book 
 of Discipline. After enumerating several kinds of 
 assemblies, its compilers add, " There is besides 
 these another more general kind of assembly, 
 which is of all nations and estates of persons 
 within the Kirk, representing the universal Kirk 
 of Christ, which may be called properly the 
 General Assembly or General Council of the 
 whole Kirk of God." Nevertheless, the cen- 
 trifugal tendency was stronger than the cen- 
 
 ^ Quoted in discussion on Consensus of Reformed Confessions. 
 First General Presbyterian Council. 
 
Aspirations for Reunion. 1 1 9 
 
 tripetal. The Anglican Church, by taking a 
 via media between the Latin Church and the 
 Reformed Churches, and by the transference 
 of its headship from the pope to the EngHsh 
 sovereign, detached itself from the fellowship of 
 the bodies to which, by the doctrine of its 
 thirty-nine Articles, it was akin, and it became 
 more and more exclusively national. Other 
 Churches went their several ways, bestowing 
 only an occasional glance at each other. The 
 latter half of the nineteenth century witnessed 
 a quickening of the pulses towards unity, and 
 the dawn of the twentieth century has been 
 marked by striking practical expressions of the 
 desire to reduce divisions, and by aspirations, 
 finding utterance in unexpected quarters, for the 
 reunion of Christendom. How these aspirations 
 can be realised, it seems impossible to forecast; 
 but Christian people can at least wait on God, 
 and join in the pra3^er, " The Lord hasten it in 
 His time." 
 
 The influence of the National Churches of the 
 Continent, and of the British Isles, is too vast 
 a subject for the survey that can be made in 
 this chapter. We must limit this survey to 
 Scotland, and the inquiry to which we are in- 
 vited is, How far its National Church, Pro- 
 
I20 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 testant and Reformed, was, in the past, equipped 
 for its ministry ? And, How far it has fulfilled 
 and is fulfilling its ministry to the social life 
 of the nation ? 
 
 At the time when it started on its "dim and 
 perilous way" the condition of the Scottish people 
 was deplorable. Long and bitter warfare with 
 its southern neighbour and enemy had drained 
 the resources of the country, and had spilt the 
 best blood of its manhood. The factions of its 
 nobles, the feuds of its clans, the struggles 
 between the Crown and the feudal lords, had 
 injured the arts which can flourish only in 
 peace, had retarded every civilising influence, 
 and, from Maidenkirk to John-o'-Groat's, had 
 written mourning, lamentation, and woe over 
 the life of the nation. If now and again there 
 was a streak as of morning light, gloomy night- 
 shadows speedily obscured it. When James V. 
 died, leaving his crown to a mere infant, there 
 was no strong arm or will to control and guide, 
 and, during the regency of his widow, the 
 situation became ever more complicated. The 
 Church was unable either to promote liberty or 
 to secure order. Its service for good was a 
 thing of the past. There was still an apparatus 
 of learning and of benevolence. It had founded 
 the universities of St Andrews, Glasgow, and 
 Aberdeen, and they were shedding a feeble light 
 
Scotland, at the time of the Reformation. 1 2 1 
 
 on the surrounding darkness. It had established 
 hospitals ; at the Reformation, there were eighty- 
 three, providing for the aged, the infirm, and 
 lepers, and sometimes serving the purpose of 
 hostels for pilgrims and travellers.^ No doubt, 
 too, there were good and pious souls in the 
 priesthood who sought the welfare of their 
 flocks. But all testimony proves that the state 
 of the Church was incurably bad. The whole 
 aspect of the kingdom, when Mary Stewart re- 
 turned from France and assumed the task of 
 government, was grim and stern. All social 
 circumstances were unfavourable to kindlier 
 graces. The constant fight with an ungenial 
 climate, and the barrenness of much of the soil — 
 large tracts of it being mountainous, and bring- 
 ing forth only ''brown heath and shaggy wood," 
 and mere patches of the productive Lowlands 
 being cultivated (even these, through the want 
 of right agricultural methods, imperfectly culti- 
 vated) — made life to multitudes a weary struggle, 
 and encouraged sullen moods and morose tempers. 
 Manners were coarse. The nobles and gentry 
 were illiterate. They had vast estates, but 
 their rentals were small. They had difficulty in 
 maintaining their families, and feeding their re- 
 tainers. Some of them supported the cause of 
 the Reformers, because they saw in its success 
 
 ^ Wallcott's Ancient Church of Scotland, p. 384. 
 
1 2 2 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 a prospect of enrichment out of the spoils of 
 the Church. Perhaps, they were not worse than 
 their Enghsh neighbours ; and their temptation 
 was greater. Greedy barons? Yes, but they 
 were very poor. 
 
 To build up a religious and prosperous nation 
 out of such material was a task of surpassing 
 magnitude. The material largely determined 
 the constitution of the Kirk. In England, the 
 movement for reformation was promoted from 
 the head downwards, and, to a large extent, 
 the Church retained its ancient aspect. In 
 Scotland, it began nearer the base ; it was 
 opposed by the head of the State ; and the 
 Church reflected the popular mind. If the 
 Genevan model was adopted, it was because 
 that suited the temper of the people. Many of 
 the nobles were willing enough that it should 
 be so, since it allowed the more to pass into 
 their coffers. On the one side of the shield 
 was blazoned Democracy, on the other Theo- 
 cracy ; the latter mirroring an element never to 
 be overlooked in estimating the Scottish char- 
 acter — the element of ideality.^ The two sides 
 of the shield have always been conspicuous ; 
 
 1 "The very greed of the nobles," writes Mr Andrew Lang 
 ('History of Scotland,' vol. i. p. 423), "by starving the new 
 establishment, made it democratic in tendency, while the adoption 
 
Presbyterian Constihttion of the Church. 123 
 
 their union marks the perfervidtim ingenium Scot- 
 orum. And the two were in evidence in that 
 first Assembly of the Reformed Kirk in 1560, 
 which was composed of six ministers and thirty- 
 four elders. 
 
 The Church thus constituted did not include 
 all the constituents of the Reformed nationality ; 
 and, during the seventeenth century, there was 
 conflict, with varying result, between it and 
 the excluded Episcopalian constituent. But, un- 
 doubtedly, the main current of Scottish life flowed 
 through the Presbyterianism which finally pre- 
 vailed. How far this Presbyterianism succeeded 
 in its social mission, is writ large in the history of 
 three centuries. Much more might have been 
 accomplished for the intellectual and social well- 
 being of Scotland, if the wealth of the unreformed 
 Church had been diverted into channels of public 
 utility. That wealth had been enormous ; before 
 1560 it amounted to a half of the entire wealth of 
 
 by Scotland of the republican theocracy of Geneva made the Kirk 
 democratic in constitution." 
 
 "But," replies Principal Fairbairn (' Edinburi^h Review,' January 
 1901), "it would be nearer the truth to say that the constitution 
 determined the tendency and was determined more by the national 
 history and conditions than by Geneva. . . . Three local conditions 
 were friendly to a democratic Church— (i) The want of a royal per- 
 son to appeal to the popular imagination ; (2) the want of a single 
 governing will to command the rising storm ; (3) the need of an 
 order that would secure liberty and law for the people." 
 
124 The Social Vocation of the Chtwch. 
 
 the country. But there is nothing more pathetic 
 than the battle over it between John Knox and 
 the disinterested Reformers, and the nobihty and 
 lairds, the interested Reformers. The latter were 
 willing to pass Confessions of Faith, and even to 
 do combat for the purged Kirk, so long as they 
 were enriched out of the resources of the un- 
 purged Kirk. But with these they would not 
 part. If they had been devoted to the three 
 purposes for which Knox and his coadjutors con- 
 tended — the sustenance of the ministry, the edu- 
 cation of the youth in parish schools, grammar- 
 schools, and colleges, and the relief of the poor — 
 the tale told in succeeding periods would have 
 been a different tale. Only a third of the thirds 
 of the benefices in the kingdom was secured for 
 the parochial ministry of the Church. 
 
 But, slender though its means were, the Church 
 set its face bravely to the work committed to it. 
 It is not relevant to this review to follow its en- 
 deavours, or to trace its developments, through 
 the storms of the seventeenth century. The 
 only point to be noted, as bearing on the in- 
 fluence which it exerted on national character, 
 is the ideality already referred to : evidenced, 
 for example, in the attitude of the Scottish army 
 led by Alexander Leslie, — ever resolutely hold- 
 ing aloft the three words, Christ, Crown, and 
 
The Covenanters, r 2 5 
 
 Covenant, and still more fully evidenced in 
 those killing days, the remembrance of which 
 can never fade from the Scottish consciousness. 
 Whatever men may think of the cause of the 
 Covenanters, there is an unmistakable moral 
 grandeur in the spectacle of men, dignified in 
 their poverty by the conviction of an infinite 
 possession in Christ and His crown, living a 
 life to which the world gave nothing, but which 
 they felt to be filled out of the fulness of God, 
 and, for the sake of a treasure that they esteemed 
 better than thousands of gold and silver, — for 
 God's kingdom in their Scotland, — enduring 
 persecution and death itself. And this moral 
 heroism, this lofty ideality, was the fruit of the 
 faith which the Kirk they loved nourished within 
 them. 
 
 Taking what, in ecclesiastical phrase, is called 
 a conjunct view, the work of the Scottish Church 
 in the development of Scottish social life is 
 the resultant of its fourfold action : First, the 
 Ministry of the Word and sacraments in every 
 part of the land, through a stated and endowed 
 pastorate, responsible for all within the area of 
 the parish. Second, the exercise of discipline by 
 minister and session, — a discipline which those 
 who look back on the seventeenth and eigh- 
 teenth centuries, in the light of the twentieth. 
 
126 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 may regard as harsh and stern, but as to which 
 we may recollect, that the times needed firm 
 moral testimony, and that what was meted out 
 was meted out impartially to peer and to peasant. 
 Third, the work of the Church in supervising the 
 instruction of the young in the parish schools 
 (and there is no more honourable feature in its 
 record than this). And, finally, the stimulation 
 and organisation of useful and beneficent social 
 effort of many kinds. Besides all this, there 
 are services which cannot be classified ; services 
 promotive of goodwill man to man, of union, of 
 co-operation, of relief from monotonies of con- 
 dition, of help in respect of all that touches the 
 springs and principles of conduct. It cannot, 
 indeed, be said that this social ideal has been 
 reahsed in all parishes; for there have ever been, 
 and ever will be, manifold and often grievous 
 shortcomings. But the Church cannot be said 
 to have missed its mark of light that for long 
 generations has mediated between rich and poor, 
 high and low ; that has nourished in the homes 
 of the Scottish peasantry a dignity, a moral ele- 
 vation, a piety, such as that which Robert Burns, 
 drawing on his own memory, has immortalised in 
 the '' Cottar's Saturday Night " ; that has based 
 the education of millions of souls on the answer 
 which gives the key-word to its practical teaching, 
 
Influence of the Scottish Chmxh. 127 
 
 '* Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy 
 Him for ever." 
 
 Let a witness speak to whose testimony no 
 suspicion of an ecclesiastical bias can attach. 
 A Select Parliamentary Committee, in its re- 
 port to the Houses of Parliament, placed on 
 record the following judgment: ''No sentiment 
 has been more deeply impressed upon the minds 
 of your Committee, in the course of their long 
 and laborious investigations, than that of ven- 
 eration and respect for the Established Church 
 of Scotland. They believe that no institution 
 has ever existed which, at so little cost, has 
 accomplished so much good. The eminent place 
 which Scotland holds in the scale of nations is 
 mainly owing to the purity of the standards and 
 the zeal of the ministers of its Church, as well 
 as to the wisdom with which its internal in- 
 stitutions have been adapted to the habits and 
 interests of the people."^ 
 
 Any hindrance to the utility of such an in- 
 stitution is a matter of concern to all who 
 desire that the social life of the country shall 
 be permeated by a religious spirit. And one 
 such hindrance was occasioned by the rapid 
 growth of the population in the nineteenth cen- 
 
 ^ Report of Select Committee on Patronage, p. 4. 
 
128 The Social Vocation of the Chiirch. 
 
 tury. Districts hitherto sparsely occupied were, 
 on a sudden, crowded with tenements for the 
 accommodation of millworkers or miners. Rural 
 districts were depleted, cities became congested. 
 New social states were created with which the 
 National Church, under its statutory provision, 
 was unable to cope. One symptom of the revived 
 energy of the Church, in the earlier part of the 
 last century, was the perception of the need of 
 a fuller agency to secure the ordinances of the 
 Church for the increasing thousands. We recall 
 the zeal with which Dr Chalmers knocked at 
 the doors of the Legislature, only to find that 
 the doors would not open to his appeal. We 
 recall the fervour with which he and others, 
 abandoning hope of aid from Government, set 
 about the work of church-building and parochial 
 subdivision — a work that was crowned with a 
 success which the Disruption of 1843 inter- 
 rupted. On this event, so far-reaching in its 
 consequences, in political and social as well as 
 ecclesiastical spheres, there is no need to make 
 any pronouncement. All that need now be said 
 is, that it secured a vast addition to churches 
 and religious machinery, whose distribution was 
 to a large extent in line with the ancient divi- 
 sion of parishes. Indeed, to their honour be it 
 said, some of the most splendid illustrations of 
 
Professor Jmnes Robertson. 129 
 
 the efficiency of the territorial principle have 
 been supplied by ministers and congregations 
 of non-conforming Churches. But the responsi- 
 bility of the Established Church, as the cus- 
 todian of the national parochial economy in its 
 integrity, remained ; and the discharge of this 
 responsibility, in the crippled condition of the 
 Church, and having regard to the altered features 
 and the complexities of the modern era, seemed 
 all but hopeless. 
 
 Facilities for rearranging the bounds of par- 
 ishes, for the provision of endowments for new 
 parishes, and for their possession of a parochial 
 status quoad sacra, were afforded by an Act of 
 the Legislature known as Sir James Graham's 
 Act. But, between 1843 and 1854, these facilities 
 were taken advantage of in the erection of only 
 thirty parishes which were chiefly in wealthier 
 residential centres. Impatient of this slow pro- 
 gress, Professor James Robertson launched his 
 provincial scheme, in which he aimed at rais- 
 ing a fund of -£*40,ooo in each of the five pro- 
 vinces into which the country was divided, as 
 a fund to supplement local efforts for the en- 
 dowment of chapels within these provinces. A 
 man of indomitable courage and of wonderful 
 faith in the Gospel of the kingdom of God, a 
 man, too, with wide social sympathies, — he 
 
 I 
 
130 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 infused his own enthusiasm, his own broad- 
 minded zeal, into the movement that he led. 
 How vividly do those who rallied around him 
 in the inauguration of that movement, and yet 
 survive, — for, alas ! the greater part is fallen on 
 sleep, — recollect the glowing, if often the lengthy, 
 utterances of the noble-hearted churchman ! The 
 note on which all the changes were rung was 
 the call to identify the Church with the needs 
 and aspirations of the nation. If he spoke on 
 behalf of the Church, it was because, in his own 
 words, " if it falls, no other Church can be 
 established in its place ; and in this case the 
 social regeneration essential to the best interests 
 of society must be abandoned as hopeless." ^ 
 But his outlook w^as beyond the ecclesiastical 
 pale. "The welfare of society," he exclaimed, 
 " tends more and more, by an irresistible im- 
 pulse, over which legislation can exert but little 
 control, to suspend itself on the significance 
 attached to man as man."- It was the cause 
 of man which he advocated, and to despair of 
 it, he protested, was "to despair of the faith- 
 fulness of God." And so he laboured until — 
 his most sanguine hopes having been surpassed 
 — death released him from his toil. Through 
 his endeavours, and those of the like - minded 
 
 ^ Life of Dr James Robertson, p. 329. "^ Ibid., p. 238. 
 
Increased Social Activity of the Chui^ch. 1 3 1 
 
 men who supported him, and succeeded him in 
 the management of the Endowment Scheme, 408 
 parishes can be reckoned as having been added 
 to the economy of the National Church, con- 
 taining " a population of one and a half million, 
 almost as great as that of Scotland in the be- 
 ginning of the nineteenth century." 
 
 In other ways, increased momentum has been 
 given to the service of the Church. Home 
 missions, under the guidance of wise and elo- 
 quent conveners, have developed elasticities in 
 method, as well as extensions of building. The 
 guardianship of schools has been transferred from 
 the Church to the community in its civil aspect ; 
 but in her own sphere, through Sunday-schools, 
 boys' brigades, and other organisations, she has 
 an arm — it should be a long and a strong arm — 
 to reach to the youth of the country. And, ad- 
 vancing from this, there are circles of effort — 
 guilds, fellowships, unions of many kinds — 
 through which the Christian life acts on all the 
 social surrounding. We cannot omit the dis- 
 covery, or re-discovery, of woman as having a 
 distinct vocation in the ministry of the Church. 
 The deaconess and the parish sister have now 
 their place and service. All effort, evangelistic 
 or social, has been amplified, with a view to 
 the comprehension in sympathetic Christian 
 
1 3 2 The Social Vocation of the Church. 
 
 work of the shifting and manifold phases of 
 society. 
 
 What, it may be asked, is the result of all the 
 activity ? The answer to this question will be in 
 great part determined by individual temperament, 
 and by the position in regard to the Church 
 that is assumed. The more sanguine in dispos- 
 ition will fasten on all hopeful symptoms, and 
 argue from them that there is an advance towards 
 better averages, and fuller measures of social 
 good, along the whole line of society. The more 
 keenly critical disposition will challenge some of 
 the alleged evidences of progress, and hint that 
 *' reversion is ever dragging evolution in the 
 mud." An ecclesiastical statistician will present 
 elaborate tables of figures as proving that, though 
 Churches toil, the churchless increase ; that the 
 signs of the alienation of masses from the Church 
 have assumed alarming proportions, and menace 
 the Christian life of the nation. Another, setting 
 the question of church attendances aside, will 
 point to the broader channels of sympathy among 
 all sorts and conditions of men, to the higher 
 aims and levels of action in even the humblest 
 ranks, to the increasing urgency of the demand 
 for better homes and for all that makes better 
 lives, as proving that, though the Church as 
 such may have less visibility, the Christianity 
 
The Ideal of Pai^ochial Ministry. 1 3 3 
 
 of Christ has more. The truth may He in the 
 mean between a confident optimism and a croak- 
 ing pessimism. There is enough to make us 
 thank God and take courage. There is enough, 
 also, to bid us " be not high-minded but fear." 
 But, whatever may be the complexion of our 
 thought as to the effect of the Church on the 
 moral and social tone of the nation, the work 
 to be done with all our might is to purify the 
 springs of wellbeing, the home and the home-life, 
 to make brighter and healthier zones for the in- 
 dividual units of mankind, and, in so doing, to 
 develop the constituents of a virtuous and pros- 
 perous community. This is the duty, this marks 
 the opportunity, of a National Church. Dr 
 Chalmers opposed " a mere process of attrac- 
 tion " to "a process of emanation";^ and more 
 effectual, he urged, is the latter process. That 
 process is the ideal of the parochial ministry ; 
 its work is to radiate Christ's Gospel, in its 
 message of reconciliation, goodwill, and love, on 
 the locality which is the scene of its influence. 
 In the measure in which it is faithful to this, 
 shall it bless and be blest. 
 
 ^ " People will not be drawn in such abundance to Christianity 
 by a mere process of attraction, as Christianity can be made to 
 radiate upon them by a process of emanation." — Christian and 
 Civic Economy of Large Towns, p. 115. 
 
PART II. 
 
 PRESENT-DAY PROBLEMS AND 
 CHURCH ATTITUDES. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PRESENT-DAY PROBLEMS : POPULATION AND 
 PAUPERISM. 
 
 In the previous part of this volume, the action of 
 the Church on social life has been regarded from 
 three points. First, from that of its vocation, as 
 interpreted by the Founder of Christianity in His 
 teaching and in His sacrifice, and as reflected 
 in the consciousness of those who take His yoke 
 upon them and learn of Him.^ Second, from 
 that of its history, in its period of struggle with 
 the power of the Roman Empire, and with the 
 ancient heathenisms which the Empire protected, 
 in its period of triumph when the kingdoms of the 
 once hostile world became " the kingdom of the 
 Lord and of His Christ," and in the ages during 
 which it gradually estabhshed a common type of 
 manners and morals in Europe, and determined 
 the higher elements of European civilisation.^ 
 
 1 Chapters II. and III. '^ Chapters IV. and V. 
 
138 Pre sent- Day Problems. 
 
 Finally, from that of its relation to national de- 
 velopments, and the influence which, through its 
 characteristic institutions and ordinances, it exer- 
 cised on national temperament and wellbeing. 
 In this last regard, our special survey was limited 
 to Scotland and its National Church.^ 
 
 Now, we change our venue. The beginning of 
 a new century reminds us of forces that are no 
 longer guided or controlled by the Church, some 
 of which, indeed, either ignore it or express an- 
 tagonism, more or less overt, to it ; of facts and 
 phenomena that challenge attention and raise 
 the question, How, having regard to them and 
 the life-conditions which they connote, is society 
 to be elevated, and are the kingdom of God and 
 His righteousness to be realised ? " There is no 
 social problem," it has been said ; " there are 
 social problems." These problems — the subject- 
 matter of the pages that follow — are many and 
 serious. 
 
 A connecting-link between the portion of our 
 study on which we enter and that which precedes 
 may be found in the reference, made in the last 
 chapter, to the rapid increase of the population in 
 Great Britain, as constituting one of the difficulties 
 in the way of an efficient discharge of the respon- 
 
 1 Chapters VI. and VII. 
 
The Increase of the Population. 139 
 
 sibilities of the National Churches. The pros- 
 pect suggested by this increase is, to many minds, 
 alarming. From time to time, calculations are 
 presented which, assuming that the ratio of the 
 increase will be in the future what it has been 
 in the last fifty years, set before us such develop- 
 ments as the following — That two centuries and 
 a half hence, Europe alone will contain a popula- 
 tion equal to that of the entire globe to-day;^ 
 that a century hence, London will contain not far 
 from forty millions of souls ; ^ that other large 
 cities, all the world over, will be proportionally 
 multiplied — and so forth. Now, whilst we set 
 such forecasts aside as merely ingenious specula- 
 tions, we cannot but feel that increasing densities 
 of population create issues, or must precipitate 
 issues, which no wise man will overlook. Malthus 
 has argued that the tendency is to a multiplication 
 of human beings beyond the means of subsistence ; 
 and, in connexion with his argument, we are fre- 
 quently reminded that the earth's stock of life- 
 supporting substances is limited, and that some 
 of these are diminishing. Moreover, it is urged 
 that certain influences essential to vigorous vitality 
 — e.g.^ pure fresh air and wholesome surroundings 
 — must be impaired by a prodigious augmentation 
 
 ^ North American Review, November 1892. 
 2 Modern Cities. By S. L. Loomis. 
 
140 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 of people to be fed, clothed, and maintained, in- 
 volving, as this must involve, a prodigious aug- 
 mentation of industries of all kinds, with all 
 their inevitable concomitants, the effect of which 
 will be to exhaust and foul the atmosphere, and 
 make the land one vast noisy city, under a cover- 
 let of smoke. 
 
 There is no call to give too much heed to this 
 kind of prophesying. When the diminution of 
 the earth's resources is emphasised, it may be 
 replied that, probably, many of these resources 
 have not yet been tapped, and that, with more 
 labour, and more scientifically organised and 
 applied labour, the capabilities of the soil may 
 be indefinitely expanded.^ We cannot set any 
 limit to the possibilities of nature and of art, 
 and we may believe that each successive period, 
 developing its special burdens, will develop also 
 the means by which these burdens can be met. 
 New necessities make new ingenuities, new fer- 
 
 ^ Prince Krapotkin (in the 'Nineteenth Century') writes: "If 
 the population in this country came to be doubled, all that would 
 be required for producing the food for 70,000,000 inhabitants would 
 be to cultivate the soil as it is cultivated in the best farms of this 
 country, in Lombardy, and in Flanders, and to cultivate the meadows 
 which at present lie almost unproductive around the big cities, in 
 the same way as the neighbourhoods of Paris are cultivated by 
 the Paris maraichers. All these are not fancy dreams, but mere 
 realities." There are, besides, the vast spaces of the earth whose 
 potentialities are as yet unknown. 
 
A Healthy Citizenship. 141 
 
 tilities of brain and hand, new instruments and 
 methods of production. Our faith in God may 
 whisper to us that, if He is in the heaven, all 
 shall be well with His world. 
 
 But one thing is incumbent on us. In its own 
 interest, and with a view to social health and 
 happiness, society is bound to do what a wise 
 providence of mind directs, towards the securing 
 of a physically, intellectually, and morally fit citi- 
 zenship. Some words of Professor Huxley, bear- 
 ing on this, are remarkable for the passion which 
 he has infused into them. '' So long," he writes, 
 *' as unlimited multiplication goes on, no social 
 organisation which has ever been devised, or is 
 likely to be devised, no fiddle-faddling with the 
 distribution of wealth, will deliver society from 
 the tendency to be destroyed by the reproduction 
 within itself, in its intensest forms, of that struggle 
 for existence, the limitation of which is the object 
 of society. However shocking to the moral sense 
 the eternal competition of man against man, or of 
 nation against nation, may be, and however revolt- 
 ing may be the accumulation of misery at the 
 negative pole of society, with that of wealth at 
 the positive pole, this state of things must abide 
 and grow continually worse, so long as Istar 
 holds her sway unchecked. It is the true riddle 
 of the Sphinx, and every nation which does not 
 
142 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 solve it will, sooner or later, be destroyed by the 
 monster which itself has generated."^ 
 
 A grave feature in this *' riddle of the Sphinx " 
 is that the multiplication alluded to is most 
 striking in the classes which are least able to 
 bear it. In England, the growth in these classes 
 is at the rate of one thousand for each day in 
 the year. The two checks that Malthusianism 
 would impose on this growth are, the preventive 
 and the punitive. Under the former of these 
 heads, there are hints, if not proposals, from 
 which a healthy Christian instinct revolts. But 
 the preventions to be desiderated are, obedience 
 to the behests of prudence, and the strengthening 
 of the nobler elements in human nature as against 
 the baser. To glance at only one point. When 
 all circumstances are favourable, early marriages 
 are, speaking generally, better than marriages in 
 later life. But those which are entered into when 
 lads are scarcely out of their teens, and not out 
 of their apprenticeships, and when girls are not 
 much more than in their teens, are far from being 
 a blessing. Almost certainly, the consequences of 
 such unions are, homes whose scanty furnishing 
 has involved their occupants in debt which hence- 
 forth clings to them, Hke a millstone around the 
 neck, making tempers sour and conduct reckless ; 
 
 1 Nineteenth Century, February 1888. 
 
Checks on the Increase of Popnlation, 143 
 
 and — what is more serious still — an offspring 
 puny, sickly, and pithless. One of the condi- 
 tions of citizenship which Ruskin lays down is, 
 that children be well-born, and by this phrase he 
 means that which is wanting in the case referred 
 to.^ Taking a wider view, children are not well- 
 born when, as with multitudes, there is no sense 
 of responsibility as to fatherhood and mother- 
 hood, and as to the lives that are brought into 
 the world, and when mere animal appetite dom- 
 inates over the rational, reflective self. Then, 
 the operation of punitive checks is only too cer- 
 tain ; and the operation brings not only misery 
 to individuals, but a hurt and loss to society. 
 No drastic measure, relating to population, can 
 be conceived of that would not drag behind it a 
 train of evils ; but all who seek the real good of 
 the people are bound to do their utmost to raise 
 the ideals of parentage, to deliver their w^orld 
 from the harm of ill -born children, and, as the 
 only efficient check on lust, so to strengthen the 
 intellectual and moral nature that what is grossly 
 sensual shall be subordinated to " nobler loves 
 and higher cares." On this subject, more can- 
 not be said ; but less it is impossible to say, when 
 we consider the problem of population, and the 
 conditions of vigorous social hfe. 
 
 ^ He includes more : see 'Time and Tide,' p. 123. 
 
144 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 When we analyse the constituents of popu- 
 lation, we are at once arrested by the distinctness 
 of the opposition between the two poles of our 
 civilisation. 
 
 The aggregate wealth of Great Britain is enor- 
 mous, and its growth in recent years has been 
 by leaps and bounds. In the United States of 
 America, the annual percentage of increase is 
 more remarkable. There, for some time, this per- 
 centage has been nearly three times in excess of 
 the increase of population. In his last message 
 to Congress, President McKinley referred to the 
 wonderful record of commercial and industrial 
 progress during 1900. He noted that, " for the 
 first time in the history of the States, the imports 
 and exports had exceeded two billions of dollars ; 
 the increase of exports in that year over the pre- 
 vious amounting to between 167 and 168 millions 
 of dollars, and the increase of imports amounting 
 to nearly 153 millions." But, though the tale to 
 be told concerning the United Kingdom does not 
 exhibit such phenomenal results, it is one repre- 
 sented by notable figures. In 1899, the total value 
 of imports and exports taken together was be- 
 tween 814 and 815 millions sterling, showing an 
 increase over the previous year of 50 millions. 
 The total annual income may be set down as 
 upwards of £1,700,000,000, allowing for each per- 
 
Wealth and Poverty, 145 
 
 son — man, woman, child — on an average about 
 £^0 per annum, and for each male about ^^170 
 per annum. ^ Now, no sensible person supposes 
 that an equality of share in the nation's wealth 
 by the nation's citizenship is possible; but, in 
 view of the immense totals of wealth which 
 these statistics indicate, the appalling prevalence 
 of poverty jars on the mind. One who visits the 
 nethermost places in New York and Chicago, 
 and observes, not, perhaps, the sodden and 
 hideous depravity which is evident among the 
 submerged tenths in London, and in the older 
 European cities, but still enough and to spare of 
 black, squalid wretchedness, recalls the two 
 billions of dollars which the imports and exports 
 had exceeded, and asks why this mass of impover- 
 ished life should be so vast and solid. Long 
 dark shadows seem always to rest on material 
 progress. Hitherto, it is affirmed, the tendency 
 has been towards the accumulation of riches in 
 the hands of the well-to-do, money making money, 
 and, in the measure of this accumulation, towards 
 rendering the poverty of the poor more abject 
 and hopeless. There is exaggeration, sometimes 
 culpable exaggeration, in many of the statements 
 that are based on this affirmation ; for, life-aver- 
 ages and conditions have been greatly improved 
 
 ^ Mulhall, Dictionary of Statistics, p. 245. 
 K 
 
146 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 by the expansions of commerce and industry. It 
 is the contrast of the want and woe of the lower 
 sections of the community with the luxury that 
 is conspicuous on the heights, and the comfort 
 that marks the middle classes and the upper 
 strata even of the working class, that makes the 
 inequality harsh and glaring. But no person 
 can be acquainted with the position of unskilled 
 labourers, especially with that of the earners 
 of precarious livelihoods — those who may be 
 designated the ins and outs — without feeling that 
 there is a justification for the belief that, below a 
 certain line, the advance has not been commen- 
 surate to that above it. '' The new forces," it has 
 been said, " strike the social fabric at a point 
 intermediate between the top and the bottom. 
 It is as though an immense wedge were being 
 forced, not underneath society, but through 
 society. Those who are above the line of 
 separation are elevated : those who are below 
 are crushed down."^ 
 
 By this enigma of our social life we are con- 
 fronted. In the midst of the worlds in which 
 we live and move and have our being are the 
 wide, sad zones of pauperism and poverty. 
 To reduce these zones, is one of the most 
 
 ^ Poverty and Progress, p. 6, 
 
The Pmtper Element in the Population. 147 
 
 pressing obligations of a society that calls itself 
 Christian. 
 
 Estimates of the pauper element in the popula- 
 tion — i.e., of the proportion maintained, in whole 
 or in part, by the rates imposed on the com- 
 munity — vary. On one day in the year i8g8, 
 there were in England and Wales, in Scotland, 
 and in Ireland upwards of one million and 
 twenty-five thousand persons in receipt of public 
 relief.^ Mr Charles Booth reminds us that, in- 
 asmuch as the relief given is not generally 
 permanent, the number of persons receiving 
 daily aid must be multiplied by 2*3.^ And, 
 thus multiplying, he argues that, taking 1898 
 as the typical year, the pauper class may be 
 set down as between two and three millions.^ 
 The words "pauper" and "pauperised" are 
 often used in an elastic sense, as including the 
 houseless, inmates of prisons, lunatics, objects 
 of the charity of associations or individuals, as 
 well as the recipients of outdoor and indoor 
 
 ^ Reports of Local Government Boards. 
 
 2 Paper read to Statistical Society, December 1891. 
 
 2 Mr Chamberlain is quoted ' In Darkest England ' as liaviiig 
 said : " There is a population equal to that in the Metropolis which 
 has remained constantly in a state of abject destitution and misery. 
 The submerged class, according to Mr Giffen, comprises one in five 
 of manual labourers, six in a hundred of the population. Take three 
 millions as representing the destitute in England. " 
 
148 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 relief — truly ''a vast despairing multitude in a 
 condition nominally free but really enslaved." 
 Giving this elasticity of meaning to his state- 
 ment, Sir Robert Giffen speaks of five millions 
 "whose existence is a stain on our civilisa- 
 tion." ^ Let us reaHse what these figures de- 
 note. " At least one in five of the manual- 
 labour class, of six in every hundred of the 
 entire population," belongs to a class de- 
 pendent and needy ! The picture suggested is 
 that of a procession from morning to night of 
 thousands on thousands — the beaten in life's 
 fight, the fallen, the unfortunate, the abjectly 
 poor, on whose black banner are written the 
 words Destitution and Despair. And this in a 
 country with an annual income of more than 
 ^1,700,000,000 ! 
 
 To ensure strict accuracy as to the amount 
 of pauperism, in the legal signification of the 
 term, let us turn to the annual reports of the 
 Local Government Boards. In the report of 
 persons relieved in England and Wales on the 
 ist of January 1901, it is stated that the total 
 number of paupers, including insane, at that 
 date was 801,547. Taking the population as 
 rather more than 32 millions, this means that 
 one in every 40 persons, 2*5 per cent of the 
 
 ^ Essays in Finance, vol. ii. p. 350, 
 
Pauperism decreasino^. 149 
 
 people, is in pauperism. In London, the pro- 
 portion is somewhat higher. This, adopting Mr 
 Booth's calculation, will give about 1,700,000 
 persons as the pauper element. The report of 
 the Local Government Board of Scotland for 
 igoo informs us that "the number of poor of 
 all classes, including dependents, in receipt of 
 relief on the 15th May 1899, was 97,947, of 
 whom 84,969 were ordinary poor, and 12,978 
 were lunatic poor. Of these, upwards of 43 
 per cent were 65 years of age and upwards, 
 more than 11 per cent were children, and 
 nearly 45 per cent were between the ages of, 
 say, fourteen and sixty-five." Again accepting 
 Mr C. Booth's estimate, this may be held to 
 indicate that about 200,000 persons in Scot- 
 land were, in the year referred to, in receipt 
 of larger or smaller sums by way of relief. 
 The hopeful circumstance noted in the reports 
 is that pauperism is decreasing. In England, 
 the proportion of paupers was much smaller 
 in 1901 than in any year between 1861 and 
 1875. It has fallen from over 40 to 25 to the 
 thousand. In Scotland, compared with 1868, 
 the year presenting the highest record, "the 
 number of poor per thousand of the population 
 has fallen from 41 to 23, a decrease of 18 per 
 thousand of the population." The question, of 
 
1 50 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 course, arises, whether a considerable element of 
 this decrease may not be attributable to addi- 
 tional stringency in the application of tests, — a 
 stringency which, whilst reducing the number 
 aided from the rates, possibly leaves a great mul- 
 titude on the lower side of the region between 
 poverty and absolute want — on the brink of a 
 Slough of Despond. 
 
 The effect on social life of the existing legal 
 system of relief, with workhouses or poorhouses, 
 outdoor aid, armies of inspectors and officials, 
 committees and councils, is a topic too large 
 and many-sided to admit of discussion in these 
 pages. With the objections that are taken to 
 it we are all familiar — such as, its tendency to 
 destroy independence of spirit, and to discourage 
 thrift by making dependence on the parish the 
 accepted prospect of the poor; its fostering of 
 unfilial attitudes on the part of grown-up 
 children to parents ; its promotion of habits of 
 mendacity and deception ; its shedding of poison 
 into the springs of charity, and narrowing ot 
 the channels of benevolence by making the care 
 of the poor '^a burden on the rates." And, in 
 these and other objections, there is a force which 
 those who are best acquainted with the work- 
 ing of the Poor Law will be the most ready to 
 admit. But the Poor Law is a fact ; and, in 
 
Chtu^ch Action stiperseded. 1 5 1 
 
 view of all the circumstances with which we must 
 reckon, some statutory provision is indispensable. 
 Persons cannot be allowed to perish from want. 
 This at least is due from society to its un- 
 fortunate members. Criticism of the methods 
 according to which a debt both of citizenship 
 and humanity is discharged is good, if its aim 
 is to indicate better methods, or to remove 
 abuses which have crept into administration. 
 In the meantime, we are bound to do all that 
 can be done to minimise the evils attendant on 
 the machinery of rehef, and to make that as 
 efficient as it can be. 
 
 The State has, to a great extent, superseded the 
 action of the Church. Could the Church, in view 
 of the magnitude of the problem to be solved, and 
 of its domestic divisions, undertake, by the free- 
 will offerings of its membership, to administer the 
 aid which has been thrown as a charge on the 
 entire citizenship ? A well-known and instructive 
 experiment in this direction is associated with the 
 great name of Dr Chalmers. When the popula- 
 tion of Glasgow was not a fourth of the popula- 
 tion of this day, he organised an agency which, 
 dispensing with the imposition of assessments, 
 endeavoured to prove the sufficiency of the "use 
 and wont " of Scotland, by constituting the Church 
 and its apparatus the centre of all administra- 
 
152 Present- Day Proble^ns. 
 
 tion.^ The town council of the city gave the 
 ardent philanthropist and economist a fair field 
 for the carrying out of his plan. It suspended 
 the operation of the Poor Law in the parish of 
 St John's. The " separate, independent, and ex- 
 clusive management" of the funds to be raised by 
 collections in the parish church was intrusted to 
 him. He poured the energy of his large heart 
 into the work, and devoted the practical capacity 
 with which he was abundantly endowed to the 
 organisation of his parish, with its 10,000 souls. 
 He mapped out small districts, which deacons, 
 taking the place of inspectors, visited, carefully ex- 
 
 ^ Dr Chalmers was translated to St John's in 1819. Sir Henry 
 Craik, in his interesting ' History of a Century,' gives a sketch of 
 the administration of funds for the poor prior to the Poor Law of 
 1845 : " In 1597 this was intrusted to the kirk-session. In 1672 
 there was a discretionary power given to levy an assessment ; but even 
 though the heritors were combined with the kirk-session in raising 
 funds, their distribution rested with the latter. In the last decade 
 of the eighteenth century the ratio of the enrolled poor — even 
 although the imposition of an assessment had been common for 
 fifty years — was still very moderate. In 1791 it was only 18 for 
 each thousand of the population as compared with 48 in England. 
 In the first quarter of the present [the nineteenth] century it in- 
 creased considerably, but there was still a widespread unwillingness 
 to follow the lax example of England. It was only when discon- 
 tent and altered social conditions forced the problem on men's 
 attention that the necessity of action one way or another was felt. 
 The necessity became more urgent year by year, and at length in 
 1840 it forced on an official inquiry, the fruit of which was seen in 
 the Poor Law of 1845." — Vol. ii. p. 322. 
 
The Experiment of Dr Chalmers. 1 5 3 
 
 amining all cases of poverty, and giving relief as it 
 was ascertained to be deserved. The experiment 
 was a success, so long as the genius and magnetic 
 force of Dr Chalmers directed it, and so long as 
 the after-glow of that genius and force was felt. 
 Before he began his labours, the cost of providing 
 for the poor of the district covered by his parish 
 was about ;f 1400 annually ; under his supervision 
 that sum was reduced to ^280 annually, and 
 the condition of those who were relieved in the 
 area of his operations was better than that in 
 the assessed districts of Glasgow. 
 
 But the success was short - lived. After a 
 ministry of four years in St John's, he who 
 was '' the pulse of the machine " removed to St 
 Andrews. For some time, the impetus of the 
 movement he originated was sustained. Ten 
 years after his removal, an English Poor Law 
 Commissioner reported that the system had 
 proved triumphant, that it was then in perfect 
 operation, and that not a doubt was expressed 
 by its managers of its continuing to remain 
 triumphant. The Englishman did not see that 
 the glow was fading. That which he declared 
 to be in perfect operation was, shortly after he 
 had given his testimony, abandoned, and, so far 
 as the relief of the poor was concerned, the 
 parish became part of the ordinary Poor Law 
 
154 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 system.^ The experiment, which thus succeeded 
 and then broke down, has never been repeated. 
 For what it accompHshed, a Chalmers was 
 necessary, and even he could not bear the strain 
 of the toil for more than a brief period. And 
 Glasgow and the world have travelled far, and 
 developed new social states, since his day. 
 
 When we speak of relief, it must be understood 
 that the legal system is intended to offer only a 
 last resource. This intention is obscured by a 
 change of feeling which shows that a leaven of 
 evil import is at work. To " go on the parish " 
 is too often regarded as a first, rather than a last, 
 resource. In former days, there was a sense of 
 shame attached to it. The necessity to do so 
 broke the heart of honest man or woman. To 
 prevent it, the relatives of the unfortunate were 
 ready to pinch themselves. In the present day, 
 that sense of shame is not so widely prevalent. 
 Those who have sat on committees of boards or 
 councils know how frequently sons, even when 
 earning a fair wage, need to be compelled by law 
 to contribute to the support of aged parents ; and 
 clergymen of large city parishes are called fre- 
 quently to sign applications, for the benefit of 
 the poor roll, by fathers or mothers suing their 
 children for an aliment. "It is not a cause for 
 
 1 Dr Hanna's Memoirs of Dr Chalmers, vol. ii. pp. 287-315. 
 
Legal Relief a Last Resource. 155 
 
 wonder," writes an inspector; ''for the parents 
 probably did little for them but bring them into 
 the world, and let them fight their way in it as 
 best they can."^ Perhaps so, and if so, the more 
 the pity. But even good parents are neglected 
 by their offspring, and the thought running in the 
 mind is, that the parish is bound to look after the 
 poor, and that relatives, who have enough to do to 
 provide for their own families, are released from 
 responsibility. " We pay the rates," it is said ; 
 " why should not our folk get the benefit ? " And, 
 taking a different view-point, there are persons, 
 not a few, who find the workhouse with its labour 
 easier than the hard toil in the world outside it. 
 Now, it needs to be enforced that the Legislature 
 has undertaken to secure means of subsistence 
 only for those who are bereft of such means. 
 In rigidly restricting the agency of the Poor 
 Law to this — the lower line of poverty — it is 
 acting in justice to a very considerable number 
 of ratepayers, who are only a little way above 
 that line, and, though in many cases there 
 may seem to be hardship, acting also for the 
 best interests of society. To steer a course 
 which shall avoid both the Scylla of harsh treat- 
 ment and the Charybdis of unwise treatment is 
 no easy matter, 
 
 ' Report of Local Government Board for Scotland, 1900. 
 
156 Present-D ay Problems. 
 
 Administrative methods, it may be added, 
 must be frequently revised, and sometimes recast. 
 Officialism is slow to move, and, when it does 
 move, is apt to be clumsy and limp in its motion. 
 But, let it be gratefully acknowledged that, within 
 recent years, a considerable advance in the dis- 
 crimination and the classification of the poor has 
 been effected. The casual are separated from the 
 habitual, those who need sharp discipline and 
 rigid tests from those who have sunk through 
 no moral fault of their own. There are two 
 classes in the ranks of pauperism that specially 
 appeal to compassion. The one is the class 
 represented by the 43)^ per cent in Scotland 
 of sixty -five years old and upwards; the other 
 is that represented by the ii>^ per cent of 
 children. 
 
 With regard to the latter class — children too 
 often ill -born and unwelcomed — shall we not 
 indorse the saying of the late Sir John M'Neill 
 in his evidence before the House of Commons, " I 
 would rather that no child were in any poor- 
 house" ? ''The day is not far distant," added 
 Sir John, " when we shall have no children in the 
 poorhouse that can be suitably boarded out." 
 That day, we may believe, is in the immediate 
 future. The erection of cottage homes, un- 
 attached to any poorhouse, is a policy which 
 
C /asses specially appealing to Sympathy. 1 5 7 
 
 obtains increasing acceptance ; and there are 
 hundreds of children boarded out, in both the 
 Lowlands and the Highlands of Scotland, under 
 regulations favourable to their physical and moral 
 development. Separated from unwholesome en- 
 vironments, they are being trained in the habits 
 of useful and healthy life. 
 
 With regard to the former class, there are, un- 
 doubtedly, many who, whilst entitled to pity, have 
 no claim on esteem ; but many also are recipients 
 of aid, because a place can no longer be found 
 for them in workshop or on farm, and there is 
 none to help them. In the Parliamentary Blue- 
 Book, there is a statement in the report of a 
 superintendent of a Poor Law district which 
 merits attention. It is this : '' Several recent 
 changes in legislation and conditions of employ- 
 ment act somewhat as factors tending to increase 
 pauperism. The Employers' Liability Act, while 
 on the one hand relieving the parishes of persons 
 who have actually received injury in employment, 
 if they are fortunate in making good their claim, 
 hinders the engagement of aged persons, or per- 
 sons with physical and mental disability, such as 
 defective eyesight or hearing, weakness of heart 
 (causing faintness), or dulness of intellect. The 
 increase of joint-stock companies and co-opera- 
 tion and trades-unionism in some respects tend to 
 
158 Present-Day Problems, 
 
 increase pauperism ; for, where individual firms 
 would formerly retain a servant, although unable 
 to perform a full day's work, the eagerness for divi- 
 dends, and the necessity of paying standard wages, 
 do not now permit of his employment."^ Poor 
 old men ! The world, it seems, does not want 
 them. The decree of big dividends and standard 
 wages is, "To the poorhouse with the old men." 
 It makes one sad to see the veteran, who has 
 borne the heat and burden of a long day, con- 
 signed to the scene of withered leaves and flame- 
 spent cinders. 
 
 A question which of late has been eagerly dis- 
 cussed, but to which no adequate reply has yet 
 been given, is. What can be done towards remov- 
 ing the stigma of pauperism from the aged who 
 have lived honourably and honestly, and whose 
 good labour has helped to make the nation's 
 wealth ? Some years ago, a scheme of national 
 assurance against sickness and old age was for- 
 mulated, but the judgment of a Committee of the 
 House of Commons dismissed it as impracticable. 
 Within the last ten years, proposals for ** old-age 
 pensions for the people " have been made, not 
 only by doctrinaire philanthropists, but by such 
 politicians and men of affairs as Mr Chamberlain. 
 It cannot be said that these proposals have excited 
 
 1 Report of Local Government Board for Scotland, 1900. 
 
Old Age Pensions, i 59 
 
 any enthusiasm among the classes whose benefit 
 they contemplate. " We do not want old-age 
 pensions," exclaimed a Labour leader. " Our 
 men die of hardship before old age arrives. 
 What we want is to make their short lives more 
 liveable and comfortable."^ In this utterance, 
 he interprets a prevalent feeling. Men who 
 live from hand to mouth are apt to take 
 short "dips into the future"; ''sufficient," they 
 think, '' for the day is the evil [or the good] 
 thereof." What relieves a present pressure, or 
 gives a present advantage, appeals to them with 
 more force than any scheme to meet a con- 
 tingency at a period which, to younger persons, 
 seems so remote as sixty -five years of age. 
 But, independently of this trend of thought, the 
 carrying out of any plan of pensions involves 
 difficulties in detail, the way through which has 
 not yet been made apparent. One of these 
 difficulties is to prevent the pension from de- 
 generating into a bounty, which in effect would 
 be only another form of outdoor relief. A 
 second difficulty connects with the issue, whether 
 in the bestowment of the bounty there shall 
 be discrimination of the aged poor.^ In Ger- 
 
 ^ Mr Ben Tillet, quoted in * A Plea for Liberty,' chap. x. 
 2 In a speech delivered lately Mr Morley said : ' ' The problem is 
 one of supreme difficulty. You have a difficulty in the method of 
 
i6o Present- Day Problems. 
 
 many, an endowment is secured for selected 
 wage - earners, but the plan there adopted 
 cannot be regarded as completely successful. 
 And any investigation as to means and merit 
 conducted by officials is almost certain to be 
 both irksome and unsatisfactory. The conten- 
 tion of Mr Charles Booth and others, that the 
 contribution to a national pension fund, available 
 for persons of all sorts and conditions at sixty- 
 five, should be universal and compulsory, would 
 seem to be the only system of direct State inter- 
 vention by which the end desired can be secured. 
 But this does not meet with favour. ^' It would 
 mean," remarks an essayist, "the substitution of 
 a poll-tax — vexatious, costly, and demoralising — 
 for the Poor Law, the cost of which is met by 
 taxation based on a far more equitable adjustment 
 of demands to the means of the taxpayer." ^ 
 
 To arrive at some practical and practicable 
 scheme, by which the service of those who have 
 grown grey and old in useful labour shall be sub- 
 
 attaining your object — the question of whether this or that phase of 
 the work is desirable or not is in itself very difficult. The means 
 of attaining it without doing more damage than good, by injuring 
 the self-reliant and self-supporting institutions which the labouring 
 classes have splendidly built up for themselves — that constitutes a 
 situation which no man with any sense of responsibility will deal 
 with lightly or off-hand." 
 
 1 A Plea for Liberty, chap. x. 
 
Pension Funds. i6i 
 
 stantially recognised, may not, in a future time, 
 pass the wit of man. In the meantime, might 
 not much be done by employers, by the benevo- 
 lent, by society in general, towards the encourage- 
 ment of self-help through co-operative and trades 
 unions, savings banks, and friendly societies ? 
 The Friendly societies have wonderfully developed 
 in their operations and in their resources.^ 
 They are registered, and are under careful super- 
 vision. They have enormous funds. Some of 
 them — especially the Oddfellows and the For- 
 esters — have special pension funds, whereby a 
 young man, beginning at twenty years of age, 
 can ensure 5s. a-week at the age of sixty-five for 
 the payment of 4j^d. a-week.^ Unfortunately, 
 the facilities thus offered are not taken ad- 
 vantage of so extensively as is to be desired ; 
 but no way more educative of self-respect and 
 of a wise forethought could be found than that 
 of offering inducements to the working classes 
 partially to provide, by means of them, for^ the 
 liabilities of loss of health, or loss of power 
 to serve, when the envious years write their 
 mark on the frame of the workman. 
 
 So long as the only mode of relief is that of 
 
 ^ Mr ChamlDerlain has recently advocated a new beginning, with 
 the co-operation of the Friendly societies. 
 
 2 This rate is taken from the tables of the Foresters' Society. 
 
 L 
 
1 62 Present- Day Proble^ns. 
 
 the Poor Law, the old who, through no fault of 
 their own, are obliged to drop out of the ranks 
 of the army of toilers should be treated with all 
 possible consideration. Homes for such, apart 
 from the ordinary poorhouse, might be provided, 
 if not by law, at least by benevolence. 
 
 There is much connected with the administra- 
 tion of statutory relief that cannot be regarded 
 as satisfactory. The blame may be divided be- 
 tween the system, and the unsatisfactory social 
 states to which it is related. But Christian 
 wisdom can do much to elevate even the 
 sunken mass of pauperism ; and, though the 
 Church in its corporate capacity no longer 
 directs the machinery, it can complement or 
 supplement the machinery that is operative. A 
 poorhouse, as now ordered, is a melancholy place : 
 vitality feeble, low -toned, much of it vicious; 
 but human souls are there, precious to Him 
 who sees with other and larger eyes than ours. 
 There is room in it for the exercise of sympathy, 
 and for the blessings of Christian ordinances. 
 The writer of these pages has no more pleasant 
 recollection of his service in Glasgow than that 
 which is associated with worship, and the cele- 
 bration of the Holy Communion, in the Poor- 
 houses of the Barony and the City of Glasgow. 
 And there is an ample opportunity for the 
 
The Tzvo Organisations of Relief. 163 
 
 exercise of judicious benevolence in connexion 
 with parochial relief. " The two organisations 
 of relief," it has rightly been said, "should be, 
 indeed, as it were twin -sisters, and should act 
 as completely in union with one another as 
 twin - sisters generally are supposed to do. 
 Without this action, the greatest amount of 
 good cannot be done either by the guardians 
 on the one hand or the clergy, ministers, and 
 other charitable agencies on the other." ^ 
 
 ^ Handy-Book for Guardians of the Poor, pp. 179, 180. 
 
164 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PRESENT-DAY PROBLEMS : POVERTY AND ITS 
 CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 The pauperism with which the State deals 
 through a special legal machinery indicates " a 
 worm gnawing at the core of England's rose." 
 But the poverty which prevails is not to be 
 measured by the number of persons who are 
 recipients of relief and their dependants; the 
 zone is much wider : it is a zone of darkness 
 which presses against all that is most attractive 
 in the outer aspects of our civilisation. A 
 stranger surveying the chief thoroughfares, the 
 terraces and villas and parks of our cities, or 
 the towns and smiling homesteads in the neigh- 
 bourhood of our railways, might suppose that 
 the death of poverty had been swallowed up in 
 an abundance of comfort. But he would soon 
 find that he had looked on only one side of the 
 picture. Even in rural districts, there are " in- 
 
Estimates of Poverty. 165 
 
 sanitary cottages with bad water and starvation 
 food " ; and, assuming that poverty means a 
 scanty supply of the things which are necessary 
 to maintain healthy vitality, the condition of 
 masses congregated in the great centres of 
 population would remind him of grim spectres 
 that are ever flitting through our Vanity Fairs. 
 The statistics of Mr Charles Booth have been 
 often quoted. Sometimes their entire reliability 
 is questioned. But they have not been dis- 
 proved ; they have not been shown to be ex- 
 aggerated by observations and inductions as 
 painstaking as those on which he builds. 
 What are the results that he claims to have 
 established? Taking only a general summary, 
 they are the following. In London, the pro- 
 portion of persons in the middle and upper 
 classes is only 17 per cent of the inhabitants, 
 whilst the proportion of persons shading from 
 poverty down to absolute want (exclusive of all 
 fairly employed and regular labour) over the 
 whole city is 30 per cent. In thirty-seven 
 districts, each of which contains more than 
 30,000 souls, and the total population of which 
 is 1,719,000, the latter proportion varies from 
 40 per cent to 60 per cent.^ No doubt, London 
 is exceptional ; but it is exceptional in its heights 
 
 ^ Life and Labour of the People in London. 
 
1 66 P7'escnt-Day Problems. 
 
 as well as in its depths, and against the splendour 
 of the heights the impression of the depths is 
 terribly silhouetted. All who know the state of 
 other cities are aware that in them approxima- 
 tions to the proportions in the capital reappear. 
 The prospect, indeed, is not all gloom, and only 
 gloom. There are ''larks' notes ringing out of 
 what seem to be ravens' croaks." In the most 
 congested parts of the city there are peaceful 
 homes, and among their denizens may be found 
 beautiful illustrations of real nobility and genuine 
 happiness. But so long as ratios like those 
 referred to obtain, there is " an estate of sin 
 and misery" the consciousness of which haunts 
 the mind. Professor Huxley, who says that he 
 has an abhorrence of sentimental philanthropy, 
 protests, '' If there is no hope of a large im- 
 provement of the condition of the greater part 
 of the human family, I should hail the advent 
 of some kindly comet which should sweep the 
 whole affair away as a desirable consummation." 
 Now, the matter as to which the Church of 
 Christ may examine itself is, How comes it that, 
 having respect to the mission intrusted to it, to 
 the call addressed to it to search out what is lost 
 and driven away, to the enthusiasm of humanity 
 that ought to burn and shine in it, this mass of 
 poverty has been allowed to form and to grow 
 
The Duty of Christian Civilisation. 167 
 
 into such dimensions ? Has " the gold become 
 dim and the most fine gold been changed " ? 
 Has the age broken away from Christian ideals ? 
 If these ideals are still efficient, and the con- 
 science is still true to them, how is it that the 
 organised and disciplined fellowship in Christ 
 cannot cast this demon of poverty out ? The 
 question is one an answer to which is to be 
 sought only in the light of the Master's mind. 
 By and by, we shall see what the Church has 
 aroused herself to attempt and to do. Here, let 
 it be merely emphasised that no graver issue can 
 occupy Christian thought and tax the resources 
 of Christian energy than that of the most effec- 
 tive ways and means of discharging the duty of 
 Christianised civilisation to the circles on circles 
 of under-fed, ill-clad, ill-housed human beings 
 whose world is, and ever has been, a slum, quitted 
 by them only when the summons to the unknown 
 beyond reaches them, or when they are located 
 in their purgatory, the workhouse. 
 
 For, the Church is not to be a mere Lady 
 Bountiful, with a countenance always beaming 
 with good nature, and helping all and sundry in a 
 random and inconsiderate manner. Benevolence 
 must be made a study. It should be regarded as 
 a science; in its practical forms, it should be an 
 art. There is nothing more necessary than a care- 
 
i68 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 ful investigation into the causes and the roots of 
 poverty, a discrimination of the persons who ap- 
 peal to sympathy, and of the methods by which 
 poverty may be reached in its causes rather than 
 temporarily reheved in its manifestations. The 
 distribution of charity at present is indescribable. 
 It is said that, apart from the donations of individ- 
 uals which cannot be estimated but which repre- 
 sent an enormous sum, charitable societies of Great 
 Britain expend between ten and eleven millions 
 sterling annually,^ and that in London alone four 
 millions are given away, the greater part being 
 devoted to the relief of distress and to purposes 
 of charity.^ Nevertheless, in spite of all the work 
 done and all the gifts bestowed, there remain the 
 great percentages of the insufficiently supplied. 
 The impression is widespread, and is not un- 
 warranted, that much of the liberality which is 
 elicited is " flung to the winds like rain," that 
 much tends to form habits of thought and of 
 feeling which degrade the character, sap the spirit 
 of self-respect, and the faculty of self-help ; which, 
 instead of constituting a leverage for the uplifting 
 of the person (the only permanent benefit), make 
 the relief of the hour the harm and injury of 
 the life; which, by reason of the overlapping of 
 
 ^ Mulhall's Dictionary of Statistics, p. 112. 
 '^ Loomis, Modern Cities, p. 45, 
 
Organisation of Charity. 169 
 
 agencies and of the absence of concerted plans 
 and intelligent principles of action, demoralise 
 the poor ; that thus and therefore any gains 
 realised are not commensurate to the expendi- 
 ture of money and strength on the securing of 
 these gains. Let benevolence try its ways. Let 
 Churches more wisely consider the poor. It is 
 part of their business ; let them give more heed 
 to it, as being not a luxury but a business. More 
 attention should be given by the clergy, and by 
 the membership of Churches, to social topics, and 
 to the principles and methods of finance, as they 
 bear on the support of the weak by the strong. 
 One thing is most urgently demanded — viz., the 
 focussing of charities, their organisation, co-or- 
 dination, or subordination on well-regulated lines. 
 In large cities, an object-lesson in this direction 
 has been given by the establishment of societies 
 aiming at a more efficient direction of efforts for 
 the relief of distress, and at the repression of 
 mendicity. These societies have already done 
 good work ; the value of their service will in- 
 crease in the measure of their ability to har- 
 monise the many and confused expressions of 
 philanthropy, and to make their influence more 
 thoroughly helpful in the reduction of poverty. 
 
 If the parochial system were more fully real- 
 ised, if the principle of locality were made more 
 
1 70 Present-Day Probkius. 
 
 effective, the National Churches would possess 
 the most favourable of opportunities for co-oper- 
 ating in a grand national movement to stub up 
 the roots of the upas-tree of poverty. Would 
 that they rose to the height of this opportunity ! 
 How miserably petty and inferior seem many 
 causes which bulk largely in the ecclesiastical 
 view, when set against the facts of those spheres 
 of sunken life as to which an English prelate 
 recently remarked, '* Unless they are carefully 
 considered, they will generate a tornado which, 
 when the storm clears, may leave a good deal of 
 wreckage behind ! " ^ 
 
 But the great problem of poverty cannot be 
 dissociated from the features of social life. Here- 
 after, reference will be made to economic and in- 
 dustrial conditions which, in the opinion of many, 
 are chiefly responsible for the evil deplored. At 
 present, let us consider some of the habits and 
 circumstances with which it connects. 
 
 By universal consent, a melancholy prominence 
 must be given to intemperate indulgence in alco- 
 holic liquors. The fatal lines of this indulgence 
 are not written on the so-called working classes 
 only. They are legible in all classes. But among 
 
 ^ The Bishop of Winchester, quoted in ' Social and Present-Day 
 Questions,' p. 11. 
 
Intemperance^ a Canse of Poverty. 1 7 1 
 
 those on the lower side of the social scale the 
 ravages are most glaring ; they are presented in 
 their coarsest and most revolting aspects, and in 
 their most ruinous consequences, so far as these 
 can be traced. What the exact percentage of 
 poverty directly attributable to intemperance may 
 be, there is no need to discuss. Mr C. Booth, 
 after a careful investigation of 4000 cases ''which 
 were representative of all the poor in the districts 
 from which they were drawm and not only of those 
 who apply for relief," gave only 14 as the percent- 
 age due to drink and its attendant thriftlessness. 
 Even if this were the whole truth of the matter 
 as to the entire poverty of the kingdom, the 
 statement would be sufficiently serious. But he 
 reminds us that, in this estimate, he has regarded 
 drink as only " a principal cause." " As a con- 
 tributory cause," he adds, " it would no doubt be 
 connected with a much larger proportion."^ It 
 is impossible to make a sharp division between 
 principal and contributory cause. It has been 
 proved in the most conclusive manner by the 
 testimony of judges, of guardians of the poor, of 
 prison authorities, of experts in the treatment of 
 the insane, by the evidence of Commissioners 
 
 ^ Life and Labour of the People in London, vol. i. pp. 147, 14S. 
 1600 of the 4000 cases belonged to the lowest class of labovirers and 
 to those who are chronically in want. 
 
1 72 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 and Commissions, by reports innumerable, that 
 by far the larger amount of the wretchedness, 
 the squalor, the crime, the vice, in city and in 
 rural districts, is traceable to drink as the cause 
 that is in or behind all occasions and contribu- 
 tions. 
 
 Messrs Rowntree and Sherwell, in their admir- 
 able treatise on the temperance problem, shew 
 that the sum expended on alcoholic beverages in 
 the United Kingdom in the year 1899 — viz., 
 3^162,163,474 — is equal to nearly one and a half 
 times the amount of the national revenue, or to 
 all the rents of all the houses and farms in Great 
 Britain and Ireland. '' Two - thirds of this 
 amount," they further point out, '' are spent by 
 the working classes, who constitute approxi- 
 mately 75 per cent of the population ! That is 
 to say, more than -£"108,000,000 must have 
 been spent by 30,400,000 persons (representing 
 6,080,000 families) belonging to the working 
 classes. In other words, every working - class 
 family spent on an average in 1899 ^17, 15s. 3d., 
 or 6s. lod. per week, on alcoholic liquor, which, 
 assuming the average income of a working-class 
 family to be 35s. per week, is equal to nearly one- 
 fifth of the entire family income." ^ The state- 
 
 ^ The Temperance Problem and Social Reform, pp. 9, 10. 
 
A Criminal Waste. 173 
 
 ment is appalling. For, we must remember that 
 these families include women and children ; they 
 include also very many families of strictly sober 
 members ; they include likewise the aged and 
 the infirm. And, if deductions covering these 
 elements are made, what a huge quantity of drink 
 must be consumed day by day, night by night, by 
 the residuum ! Who can calculate all that this 
 involves ? In a vast multitude of instances, the 
 money consumed on drink must be taken from 
 that absolutely required for the necessities of 
 vigorous existence. Having regard to this crim- 
 inal waste, what wonder need be felt that 
 devilry and misery meet us everywhere ! What 
 wonder that there is such a mass of persons 
 whose vitality is low, whose constitution, phy- 
 sical and moral, is feeble ; that sodden faces, 
 brutalised countenances, manhood and woman- 
 hood in which the mark of the beast has all 
 but obliterated the image of God, and childhood 
 wan and weary and weeping bitterly, linger ever- 
 lastingly about the purlieus of the city ! 
 
 Let us pass from the region of statistics. The 
 impatience which Carlyle once expressed, when 
 figures as to intemperance were arrayed in his 
 hearing, is intelligible. '* Sir," exclaimed the 
 Prophet, '' I desire to hear nothing more on that 
 
174 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 disgraceful subject." Disgraceful it is, and un- 
 speakably sad. The question with which we are 
 concerned is, What can be done to arrest the 
 haemorrhage to which it points ? 
 
 In 1845 De Quincey alluded to " the most 
 remarkable movement in society which history 
 perhaps will be summoned to record — that which 
 in our own days has applied itself to the abate- 
 ment of intemperance." ^ The language is some- 
 what inflated, but the movement glanced at 
 signalised an awakenment of the Christian con- 
 science to the magnitude of a waste and an 
 iniquity which had been allowed to assume por- 
 tentous dimensions. Something must be done 
 to check the desolations of alcohol. What could 
 it be ? Men and women pondered the issue. All 
 honour let us accord to those who, notwithstand- 
 ing the derision with which their efforts were 
 greeted by society, and the icy coldness with 
 which they were viewed in Church courts and by 
 churchmen, toiled on, puzzling over the issue, 
 and doing what they could to arouse their genera- 
 tion to the sense of the sin lying at its door. To 
 them may be applied the words of Hegel concern- 
 ing heroes: "They derived their purpose and 
 vocation not from the calm conservative course 
 
 ^ De Quinct-y's Works, vol, xi. p. 146. The movement originated 
 in 1826. 
 
The Pioneers of Temperance Reform. 175 
 
 of affairs, but from a concealed fount, from that 
 inner spirit which, impinging on the surface of the 
 world as on a shell, shivers it to pieces, because 
 it is another and quite foreign force ; they were 
 men who seemed to draw their life-impulses from 
 themselves, and whose influence produced new 
 conditions that appeared as their work. Yet 
 they had really no consciousness at starting of 
 the great ideas they were helping to unfold, often 
 being plain practical men with an insight into the 
 needs of the time — what indeed was waiting for 
 development — the very truth needed for their age 
 and already found in the womb of time." ^ The 
 pioneers of the temperance cause were plain prac- 
 tical men. They were not ideahsts, though they 
 helped to unfold great ideas. They had no 
 political designs. They had no elaborate pro- 
 grammes. The first article of their union was, 
 *' Stop drinking, for your own sake or for your 
 neighbours' sake, and thus work towards the 
 abatement of intemperance." A simple creed, the 
 product of simple, earnest minds ! But, as the 
 movement which they originated spread, objects 
 of effort multiplied. The traffic in drink came 
 more fully into view. The politician, critical, 
 but often sympathetic, emerged on the scene. 
 Richard Cobden expressed a widespread senti- 
 
 ^ Philosophy of History, Introduction. 
 
176 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 ment when he declared that temperance reform 
 was at the root of all reform. 
 
 Two points present themselves for considera- 
 tion. One, the personal duty of Christian man 
 or woman as to the use of intoxicating drinks 
 as beverages ; the other, the action of the 
 citizenship, or of the State, with regard to the 
 traffic in such drinks. 
 
 All, of course, are of one mind in condemning 
 the abuse. And, in respect of that which consti- 
 tutes the abuse, there has been in recent years 
 a marked progress in feeling. The convivialism 
 that was general in the upper and middle 
 classes not a century ago is now impossible. 
 Ministers of State do not make speeches after 
 imbibing a bottle of port wine. Gentlemen do 
 not drink after dinner until they can drink no 
 longer. The toper in whose blood alcohol is 
 always swirling is now a marked person in any 
 circle of well-bred persons. Polite society insists 
 that its members shall not offend the unwritten 
 law of sobriety ; and, whilst on festive occasions 
 costly and various wines are circulated, there is 
 no pressure to partake of them. Any excess is 
 regarded as a misdemeanour, and the declinature 
 to partake is not criticised. A public opinion has 
 been created which, laying hold of the classes, has 
 gradually developed this change of habits ; and it 
 
Abstinence, 177 
 
 is argued that temperance among the masses will 
 be most effectually promoted in the same way. 
 Not, that is, by drastic measures of repression, 
 but — as the consequence of better education, 
 better homes, and increased self-respect — by the 
 uprising of a sentiment which will stigmatise in- 
 temperance as a disgrace to the intemperate and 
 an outrage on the community. 
 
 So far this contention may be allowed. But 
 the question remains, Whether one of the most 
 potent allies in promoting the condemnation of 
 the abuse which is desired would not be the 
 example, on a large scale, of abstinence from 
 even the use of intoxicants ? Those whose posi- 
 tion is clearly defined have a freedom of hand 
 and voice which others cannot have. To many 
 they may seem to be intense, even fanatical ; 
 nevertheless, they force attention, and their per- 
 sistency, their earnestness, sustains the move- 
 ment which otherwise might lag. A strong 
 temperance sentiment, with a distinct platform, 
 permeating the working classes, would be an 
 immense influence in uniting their ranks against 
 their most deadly foe» 
 
 The platform need not be that all use of 
 strong drink is sinful. Very few can adopt a 
 position so extreme. But many may and do 
 accept another position, which is intelligible, 
 
 M 
 
lyS Pre sent- Day Problems. 
 
 which is the expression of a genuine Christian 
 spirit, and which may be held in perfect 
 charity with others who do not accept it — the 
 position that, in view of the temptations to 
 which multitudes are exposed, of the misery 
 and shame associated with the quaffing of 
 ardent spirits, it is expedient, in the exercise 
 of Christian liberty, to forego a right to the 
 use, not merely, perhaps not at all, for personal 
 safety, but rather for the sake of others, so 
 that the protection and helpfulness of the 
 covenant of Christian brotherhood may be more 
 effectually realised, and the protest against in- 
 dulgences which lead to intemperance may be 
 emphasised. On the matter of personal duty, 
 every man must be fully assured in his own 
 mind, interpreting his attitude not by mere 
 likings or dislikings, but by the law of the 
 spirit of the life in Christ Jesus. Intemperate 
 speech on the part both of abstainer and of 
 non - abstainer should be avoided ; all judging 
 this rather that they should " strive in offices 
 of love to lighten each other's burden in their 
 share of woe." 
 
 The traffic in spirituous liquors, and the licens- 
 ing laws by which this traffic, as a monopoly, 
 is controlled, are part of the most urgent and 
 difficult subjects of the day. It is admitted by 
 
Legislative Reform. 1 79 
 
 persons of all shades of political opinion that 
 some fresh legislation is called for. The points 
 in which both the majority and the minority 
 reports of the Royal Commission on Licensing 
 Laws are agreed may be fairly held to express 
 the moderate yet earnest British mind. And 
 they are such as these : That the present law 
 needs to be " consolidated and simplified " ; that 
 the licensing authority needs to be reconstituted, 
 and its powers to be at once more fully defined 
 and amphfied; that beer-houses and fully licensed 
 public-houses should be subjected to more watch- 
 ful review, should be more strictly regulated, and 
 their number should be greatly reduced ; that 
 sales of intoxicants to children should be for- 
 bidden ; that the closing of houses on Sunday 
 should be extended ; that powers of arrest for 
 drunkenness should be increased, with penalties 
 to be imposed on those who, knowing of the 
 drunkenness, allow any one to remain on the 
 premises; that habitual drunkenness should be 
 treated as persistent cruelty, subjecting the cul- 
 prit to the law of the land, and entitling wife and 
 children to separation and protection. All who 
 acknowledge the necessity of some reform may 
 be regarded as in substantial unanimity thus 
 far. But the differences appear when any prac- 
 tical measure is proposed. Governments are 
 
i8o Present- Day Problems. 
 
 afraid to submit bills to Parliament. They 
 have usually burnt their fingers in doing so. 
 Either they have not satisfied the more ardent, 
 or, in the attempt to do this, they have offended 
 the more cautious ; and there are so many plat- 
 forms claiming to be considered that they have 
 run the gauntlet of an unsparing criticism. They 
 have been brought always into collision with a 
 compact body organised for opposition to any 
 course which threatened to interfere with the 
 interests of the trade. For, the '' Wine, Spirit, 
 and Beer Association" is enormously strong; 
 so strong that Lord Rosebery has gone so far 
 as to say that "if the State does not soon 
 control the liquor traffic, the liquor traffic will 
 control the State." 
 
 In these circumstances, what is the patriotic, 
 the magnanimous, attitude of Christian citizen- 
 ship ? Without presuming to dogmatise, it 
 seems to be, the closing of the ranks over such 
 proposals as commend themselves to the largest 
 number of those who desire a real and sub- 
 stantial social reform. Division only creates 
 the opportunity for such as oppose all reform, 
 and postpones indefinitely the prospect of any 
 satisfactory legislation. Prohibitionists, local 
 vetoists, and threefold optionists, may well re- 
 solve to hold their flags in reserve, and in the 
 
Union in Effort. i8i 
 
 meantime join with moderate men, who are 
 doubtful as to these flags, in securing what all 
 can agree to press now. Nor need they mani- 
 fest an undue pertinacit}^ on such an issue as the 
 compensation of licence-holders when the licence, 
 for no alleged fault, is taken away. If the legal 
 right is not asserted ; if, in consideration of the 
 conditions and expectations which have grown 
 up under the educative influence of law, an 
 allowance is made, as a matter of grace and 
 expediency, not of right ; if this allowance is not 
 made good by any taxation, but simply out of 
 the trade itself; it does look like stubbornness 
 to reject a compromise by which the co-opera- 
 tion of many good and true men is assured. 
 Half-way measures are sometimes obnoxious to 
 those who are whole-hearted in the advocacy 
 of views which they conscientiously hold ; but 
 it is a gain to get half-way : the half must be 
 reached before the whole way is travelled ; and 
 the refusal to act with others unless all that is 
 contended for is granted will prevent the 
 attainment of even the half-way ; will keep the 
 matter where it has been for years — unsettled, 
 and every attempt at a settlement frustrated. 
 
 Now, the recommendations of Lord Peel and 
 the minority of the Royal Commission on Licens- 
 ing form the basis of a new national movement 
 
1 82 Present-Day P^'oblems. 
 
 in furtherance of temperance reform. They differ 
 from the recommendations of the majority in 
 several important respects. They are more de- 
 finite. They are less encumbered by restrictions 
 and reservations. They give more power to the 
 licensing authority. They are tentative, allowing 
 the experience of a period of seven or five years 
 to guide as to further action. They deny any legal 
 right to compensation ; they contemplate an 
 allowance to the publican whose licence would 
 cease, under the arrangement by which ** on " 
 licences would be reduced in the ratio of i to 
 750 in towns, and i to 400 in country districts, 
 for so much of the seven years' or five years' 
 period of whose gains he is deprived, but this 
 not from a public rate, only out of a fund raised 
 by an annual levy on the other licence -holders. 
 At the end of the seven years, or, in Scotland, 
 the five years, no allowance would be made ; the 
 number of "on" drinking-houses would be re- 
 duced by more than a half; and a fuller re- 
 vision of the licensing system in the light of 
 the knowledge obtained would be possible. In 
 support of this scheme, might not reformers, 
 whatever their peculiar positions in the army of 
 reform may be, join hands and agree to make 
 common cause ? If all that every one desires is 
 not interpreted in it, much that every one desires 
 
Cotmter-attractions, 183 
 
 is ; and the united front, in behalf of a measure 
 that is not associated with what poHticians might 
 designate fads, would go far in carrying the 
 measure through the parliamentary ordeal. There 
 is wisdom in the advice lately tendered by the 
 Bishop of Newcastle, '' Not to be discouraged 
 and discountenanced if a measure which may be 
 carried does not come up to all expectation, but 
 to make the best of what is possible and practic- 
 able, and then, when this has been tested and 
 tried, to go on to something else which may seem 
 to be a farther advance in the same direction." 
 
 Apart from legislative action, much remains to 
 be done in the way of providing counter-attrac- 
 tions to the existing public-house. The charm 
 of the public-house is largely owing to its being 
 a place where men can congregate, gratifying 
 their social instincts, and breaking the dull 
 monotony of their life. If we would save men 
 from the dangerous, we must supply the whole- 
 some and really recreative sociality. Do as we 
 will, to many the superior place, with the superior 
 entertainment, will have no charm. Those who 
 have toiled in the endeavour to reach persons who 
 frequent the smaller drinking-houses, and to give 
 them a better variety for their leisure hours, know 
 how disappointing the toil is. The men most 
 wanted prefer to smug in their old haunts. But 
 
184 Present- Day Problems, 
 
 some are curable ; and there is the prevention 
 which is better than cure. One of the main 
 objects of effort is, by the power of a purer 
 taste, still more of a higher affection, to keep 
 the manhood and the womanhood of our cities 
 from the associations of the house licensed for 
 drink, and to provide amusements and interests 
 which can make existence richer and brighter. 
 People's palaces, cafes, clubs, &c., render an im- 
 portant service. There is a touch of fine satire 
 in the excellent proposal of Messrs Rowntree 
 and Sherwell to hand over the whole profits of 
 the liquor traffic in a locality to a central State 
 authority, and to make an annual grant from 
 this authority for the establishment and main- 
 tenance of recreation centres, whose primary 
 object shall be to counteract the influence of the 
 drink trafiic — the ^oU benefit which a locality 
 shall receive from the profits of the traffic.^ 
 
 In the forefront of the circumstances of poverty 
 is the nature of the houses in which the poor 
 live their life. There can be no doubt that the 
 wretched dwelling, with all its attendant features, 
 is largely a consequence of intemperance ; but 
 there can be no doubt also that it is largely a 
 cause of intemperance. Where food is insuf- 
 
 ^ The Temperance Problem and Social Reform, p. 590. 
 
The HotLsing of the Poo7\ 185 
 
 ficient, where squalor reigns, where the atmo- 
 sphere is vitiated and unwholesome, the craving 
 to get out, to realise some additional sensation, 
 some fuller life, leads to the only appreciated 
 source of the desired stimulus. And a reckless 
 unconcern for all except the gratification of the 
 moment is a concomitant of habitual poverty. 
 What can be expected of those whose rearing and 
 whose residence are in garrets, or cellars, or fetid 
 dens — places in which all that protects the 
 modesty of woman, that educates the higher 
 qualities of man, that supplies the necessities of 
 healthful existence, is only conspicuous by its 
 absence ? The only result to be looked for from 
 such surroundings is short, sunless, stunted, de- 
 graded lives — starvation scarcely kept at bay — 
 rounded by a pauper's or a criminal's grave. 
 
 Let us review for a moment or two the housing 
 of the lower, the more seamy, side of the popula- 
 tion. Glasgow, as described by Sir James Bell 
 and Mr Paton, will serve as our illustration. First, 
 there is thrown on the canvas the common, or the 
 model, lodging - house, in which yearly 10,000 
 persons find a shelter — *' the hotel of the very 
 poor, where mingle persons of all nationalities, 
 who have fallen from all ranks, and from posi- 
 tions of independence and responsibility, tramps, 
 tinkers, labourers, sweeps, thieves, and thimble- 
 
1 86 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 riggers; with low moral tone, and habits and 
 sometimes language unclean."^ There, at a rate 
 not exceeding 6d. a night, sleep, and feed as best 
 they can, these motley companies of the wandering 
 and weary of foot. Next, the impression on which 
 the eye rests is that of " the farmed house," taking 
 the place of the furnished house of the better cir- 
 cumstanced citizen. In the wynds, lanes, and 
 back properties of the city it is to be found : its 
 rooms ''fitted out with a bed or beds, some bed- 
 ding, a table, two or three chairs, a grate, a kettle, 
 a pot, and a little crockery," let at rents varying 
 from 4s. a-week and upwards." Next, comes the 
 one - roomed house, the subject of Mr Bright's 
 graphic picture on the occasion of his rectorial 
 address to the University of Glasgow. More than 
 30,000 dwellings with one room exist in the city, 
 occupied by upwards of 100,000 citizens, paying 
 on an average a rent of 2s. weekly — " miserable 
 dens tenanted for the most part by a class almost 
 as migratory as that in the lodging - houses." ^ 
 Finally, the eye rests on '' the ticketed house," 
 having not more than three apartments, which, by 
 the Police Act of 1866, the authorities have power 
 to enter in order to measure its cubic contents. 
 
 ^ Glasgow : Its Municipal Organisation and Administration, 
 p. 192. 
 
 2 Ibid., pp. 193, 194. 3 i5i(j^ p_ jg^^ 
 
Improvement in Housing. 187 
 
 If these contents do not exceed 2000 cubic feet, 
 they are entitled to state the number of feet, and 
 the number of sleepers allowed in the house 
 according to the prescribed measurement, on a 
 ticket or plate fixed to the door. There are 
 25,000 such ticketed houses in various districts, 
 and ''the inspected population forms an army 
 of at least 60,000, in which are the bulk of the 
 socially dangerous elements." ^ 
 
 Great improvements have recently been effected. 
 The Police Act of i8go gave the police commis- 
 sioners authority, on the report of the medical 
 officer, the sanitary inspector, and the master of 
 works, to declare any house or part of a house 
 to be unfit for human habitation, and to affix 
 an order that after a given date it shall cease 
 to be inhabited, the proprietor being allowed a 
 right of appeal to the sheriff. Hundreds of 
 dwelling-houses have by the exercise of this 
 authority been closed; large portions of streets 
 have been demolished ; and, instead of the 
 former insanitary tenements, new blocks with 
 airy courts and passages and all modern ap- 
 pliances have been erected. The Glasgow cor- 
 poration justly claims "to have accomplished a 
 great work in lengthening and strengthening the 
 
 1 Glasgow: Its Municipal Organisation and Administration, 
 pp. I95> 196. 
 
1 88 Present- Day Problems, 
 
 life of the poor and making their condition 
 more bearable, if we cannot say enjoyable." ^ 
 
 But the shadows are still long and dark. The 
 population in many parts of our cities is too 
 dense, and the rate of mortality is, therefore, 
 high. Especially is this true of the infantile 
 mortality. Glasgow has been referred to. In 
 illustration of the death-rate among children, let 
 us refer to Liverpool, of which it has been said, 
 justly or unjustly, that " it is the most un- 
 wholesome place for little children in the whole 
 country." In the report of the medical officer 
 of health for 1890, it is stated that '* the range of 
 mortality is from 105 per thousand in the district 
 where it is the lowest up to 260 per thousand 
 in the district where it is the highest." Allow- 
 ing an annual death-rate of 100 per thousand tO' 
 be unavoidable, it will be seen that in some 
 districts (and these are the poorest) there is a 
 vast amount of preventable mortality. An in- 
 vestigation into the circumstances of upwards 
 of 1000 consecutive deaths, in quarters in which 
 infantile death was excessive, brought out that 
 "in 21 per cent the families might be described 
 as extremely and exceptionally dirty; in 18 per 
 cent the mothers went out to work, leaving the 
 
 ' Glasgow: Its Municipal Organisation and Administration,, 
 P- 199. 
 
Child-life in the Shims. 189 
 
 infant in the custody of others, frequently in 
 the custody of another child who could give it 
 no proper attention; about 11 per cent of the 
 total were living in dwellings unfit for human 
 habitation ; in upwards of 25 per cent, and 
 these are the cases where the mortality appears 
 to be highest, the parents were markedly in- 
 temperate." The results thus ascertained as to 
 Liverpool are indicative of results which, though 
 not perhaps to the same extent, have been 
 ascertained as to other cities. Without the 
 sufficiency of warmth, food, air, of things bright 
 and grateful, which nature demands, all life is 
 pathetic ; but most pathetic is child-life. Merry 
 often is the romp of the gutter child, playing 
 in the foul precinct of its home as blithely as 
 the more favoured and fortunate ; but he or 
 she who plays is the one who has survived : 
 how many are taken after having only begun 
 to be ! how many, pinched and wan, remind 
 us of the lines — 
 
 " They are weary ere they run. 
 They have never seen the sunshine, nor the glory 
 Which is brighter than the sun ! " ^ 
 
 Good houses, with good environments, for all 
 workmen, and especially for the poor, at a 
 
 1 The Cry of the- Children, by E. B. Browning. 
 
IQO Present- Day Pi^oblems. 
 
 charge which will allow a sufficient margin for 
 things requisite to vigorous life — this is a problem 
 of the day. High ground-rents, along with the 
 price of labour and material, and the amount 
 needing to be written off for deterioration of 
 property, make it one difficult to solve. Three 
 kinds of agency aiming at its solution may be 
 noticed. 
 
 I. Those who have visited the Greater Britain 
 beyond the western and the southern seas have 
 been led to contrast the comfort and inde- 
 pendence of the working classes, able through 
 the aid of building and land societies to pur- 
 chase and own their homes, with the condition 
 of their brethren in the old Fatherland. Build- 
 ing and dwelling societies do not build : they 
 make advances, repayable by instalments, on 
 real property in land or in house, to their 
 members. There are thousands of such societies 
 in the United States. By means of the facilities 
 that they offer, more than 50,000 workmen in 
 the city of Philadelphia own the houses in 
 which they live. In Australia also, a large per- 
 centage of workmen, by the same aid, enjoys 
 the same privilege. Birmingham gave a lead in 
 the United Kingdom in 1847 5 ^-^^d, at this date, 
 building societies in England can be numbered 
 by many hundreds. Unfortunately, in the earlier 
 
The Efforts of Practical Philanthropy. 1 9 1 
 
 period of the movement, some societies were 
 not sufficiently safeguarded, and their failure, 
 besides discrediting the cause, frequently in- 
 volved their members in serious losses. 
 
 2. Philanthropy, too, has taken the practical 
 form of rearing or improving homes for the poor. 
 In London alone, nearly five millions sterling, 
 including the Peabody gift, have been thus 
 spent, and a sum of one and a half million 
 has been recently left for this object. One of 
 the most interesting developments of benevo- 
 lence in this direction is that which is asso- 
 ciated with the name of Octavia Hill, a lady 
 whose zeal has been always balanced by a rare 
 practical wisdom. She purchased inferior and 
 insanitary houses, gutted them, put them in 
 good order, abolished professional factorage, and 
 organised a staff of voluntary collectors, who, 
 whilst receiving the rent each month or week, 
 became also the friends and advisers of the 
 family. Her desire was to infuse more light, 
 more beauty, more sweetness of life into the 
 houses. Her example and service were in- 
 fectious : many tenements in Great Britain, on 
 the Continent, in America, in whose ordering 
 her ideas with modifications have been carried 
 out, contain those who have ample reason to 
 call her blessed. 
 
192 Pre sent- Day Problems. 
 
 3. But the third of the agencies alluded to is 
 the State. In some quarters, a demand has 
 been loudly articulated that the civic society 
 shall undertake "the compulsory construction of 
 healthy artisans' and agricultural labourers' dwell- 
 ings in proportion to the population." Now, 
 much has been done, and well done, by cor- 
 porations, such as Glasgow, in the erection of 
 houses on approved plans and having rents fixed 
 at moderate rates — rates that do little more 
 than cover the interest of the outlay and the 
 unavoidable tear and wear. The experiment 
 has been hitherto fairly successful, and an 
 object-lesson in the right way of house-building 
 has been given. It is obvious, however, that 
 municipal action must be cautiously and pru- 
 dently organised. The houses that it erects 
 must be provided '* only in places where they 
 can be built at a fair profit " ; and there are 
 always the risks of change in the suitableness of 
 localities and of deteriorated values. But for the 
 State, the Government of the country, to become 
 the capitalist, or to advance the capital necessary 
 for providing sufficient and good lodging for all 
 in the several districts of the country, is one of 
 the impracticable points in the socialist pro- 
 gramme. The most that, in existing circum- 
 stances, it. can do i^ to authprise. giijd enable 
 
Two Desiderata as to Housing. 193 
 
 municipalities, on certain conditions, to obtain 
 loans for building, extended over long periods ; 
 and, in the interests of all the citizenship, as well 
 as in those of the working class, the money spent 
 on good houses is well-spent money. The bad 
 house in the close slum is a hotbed of disease. 
 The good house in the good situation means 
 increase of strength to those whose labour is 
 essential to wealth, and is a gain, from a sanitary 
 point of view, to the community. 
 
 In connexion with housing, two desiderata are 
 pressed. The one is decentralisation — by procur- 
 ing areas at some distance from the city and erect- 
 ing on them cottage-homes, or houses of another 
 type than the barrack-tenement, thus providing 
 fresh air for the inmates, and relieving the conges- 
 tion of residential city districts. And the other 
 — the accompaniment of this — is cheap and easy 
 transport for workmen. That these objects are 
 desirable, none will doubt. To some extent they 
 have been already realised, and to a still greater 
 extent they could be realised. But, whilst many 
 might avail themselves of the facilities thus 
 offered, the temporary nature of employment and 
 the complications as to shifts of labour must pre- 
 vent the mass of labourers from moving so far 
 afield. Good houses near the scenes of toil, with 
 all possible helps to healthy life, and with such 
 
 N 
 
194 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 supervision as, without unduly interfering with 
 liberty, shall ensure that the houses are well 
 kept and maintained, are an urgent necessity ; 
 and to meet this necessity should be one of the 
 first obligations of citizenship. 
 
 But, when all is said that can be said as to 
 better houses and environments, it must be re- 
 collected that the essential element in the problem 
 is — the better people for the house. The dwell- 
 ing is, undoubtedly, a most important auxiliary 
 to happy and righteous living. It is absolutely 
 indispensable to wellbeing. But the home is 
 more than the house. The best of houses may 
 be the worst of homes ; the worst of houses ma}^ 
 yet have something at least of the air of a home. 
 For, the home includes the character of the in- 
 mates, their mutual and reciprocal service and 
 kindness, relations sweetened by affection and 
 sympathy, gentle dispositions, manners promo- 
 tive of purity in thought and action. Where 
 these things are and abound, the humblest fireside 
 is transformed into a holy place : in the peasant's 
 hut, in the one- or two-roomed habitation, there 
 can be heard " the melodies of the everlasting 
 chime." This may seem to many merely a part 
 of an old song; but the old songs are often the 
 interpretation of the truest feeling. Anyhow, 
 it indicates the special sphere of the Christian 
 
The CJmrch and the Home, 195 
 
 Church and its ministry. The Church associ- 
 ates itself with all that tends to uplift and com- 
 plete humanity, with every endeavour to give 
 additional zest and brightness to life. But the 
 province that is peculiarly its own is the building 
 up of manhood in moral vigour and in spiritual 
 elevation. It looks to the home more than the 
 house ; its ideal is the family united in " keeping 
 the way of the Lord, to do justice and judgment." 
 
196 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PRESENT-DAY PROBLEMS : LABOUR AND THE 
 COMMONWEALTH — SOCIALISM. 
 
 Pauperism and poverty, the seamy side of social 
 life, formed the subject of the two last chapters. 
 But the consideration of the duty of Christian 
 citizenship with regard to them is met by a 
 protest which is loud and emphatic. The pro- 
 test is this : "All that you contemplate will not 
 heal the hurt. The root of the evil is left 
 untouched; the seat of the mischief is left 
 unvisited. The ills that you trace are not on 
 the surface of society; they belong to the in- 
 terior; they are not the sign of maladjustments 
 which can be rectified by a wise and far-reach- 
 ing philanthropy; they are the consequence of 
 a radical unsoundness, the evidence of utterly 
 wrong and false conditions. ' The whole head is 
 sick and the whole heart is faint' because the 
 social fabric is based on, and is reared up in. 
 
The Protest of Socialism. 197 
 
 injustice. The principles and the apphcations 
 of its economy are fatally and cruelly unright- 
 eous. Nothing short of a revolution, in respect 
 of all that forms the content of the nation's 
 government and wealth, can set the life of the 
 people right. Without this, all that you pro- 
 pose or can propose will be a mere fiddle- 
 faddling with the misery you seek to relieve ; 
 in and by this, and in and by this alone, can 
 there be a real and permanent improvement. 
 ' Small measures do not merely produce small 
 effects ; they produce no effect at all.' Go to 
 the root of the matter ; nothing but a new era, 
 bringing in a new political and social constitu- 
 tion, will cure the fever - sores that are now 
 malignant, and that are bound, in ever-increas- 
 ing malignity, to spread." 
 
 This protest interprets that mass of opinion 
 which is usually designated Socialistic. The 
 term Socialism has not been in current use for 
 more than between sixty and seventy years,^ but 
 the ideas that it crystallises have, in a kind 
 of nebulous form, influenced minds in all ages. 
 They found expression in the democracy of 
 
 1 " It is a disputed point whether it first arose in the school of 
 Owen, or was invented by Pierre Leroux, the author of a system 
 known as ' Humanilarianisn,' or had for author Louis Rebaud, a 
 well-known publicist and a severe critic of socialism."— Flint on 
 Socialism, p. ii. 
 
198 Present- Day Proble7ns. 
 
 Greece,^ and in both the RepubHc and the 
 Empire of Rome. In the ecclesiastical system 
 of the middle ages — with its monastic brother- 
 hoods and its religious orders, with the guilds 
 and fraternities that it sanctioned, even the 
 feudalism that flourished in its midst — there 
 were anticipations of the theories with which 
 we are familiar. But these theories assumed 
 more distinct proportions towards the dawn of 
 the nineteenth century. The way for them had 
 been prepared by the French Encyclopaedists, 
 and by authors of varying hues of thought. 
 Rousseau had sung the praises of a state of 
 nature when there was no private property on 
 the earth, and when all men were equal. 
 Babceuf" had propounded the scheme that 
 may be regarded as the rough draft of de- 
 veloped socialism — the scheme of a democracy 
 in which all inequalities shall be abolished, all 
 superfluities cut off, and all property transferred 
 to Government, to be distributed to every citizen 
 
 1 " The Greek theory, though it likewise regards the State as a 
 means to certain ends, regards it as something more. According to 
 it, no department of life is outside the scope of politics ; and a 
 healthy State is at once the end at which the science aims, and the 
 engine by which its decrees are carried out." — The Greek Theory 
 of the State. By Charles John Shebbeare. 
 
 '-^ The Christian name was Joseph. Inasmuch as he had no 
 admiration of the Joseph of Scripture, he renounced the name and 
 substituted for it Caius Gracchus. 
 
History of Socialisvi. 1 99 
 
 according to his need. These conceptions of 
 civil society and its structure and objects were 
 stirring the thoughts of men before the French 
 Revolution, and during its stormy period in 
 1793. And thereafter, in Saint Simon, Proud- 
 hon, Fourier, Louis Blanc, and others, French 
 socialism was provided with an eloquent advo- 
 cacy and an active missionary propaganda. 
 
 But it was not until the nineteenth century 
 was well advanced that this type of view as- 
 sumed a distinct economical outline, and was 
 embodied in distinct organisations. Prior to 
 that date, men like Robert Owen had projected 
 communistic societies ; and ardent spirits, such 
 as Coleridge and Wordsworth, during the brief 
 period of their enthusiasm for '* liberated 
 France," had sketched ideal pantisocracies. 
 But it was after Waterloo had been fought, it 
 was when Europe was suffering from depres- 
 sions and reactions subsequent to long years of 
 war, unrest, and drainage of resources, that the 
 master minds of the new movement appeared. 
 And not France, but Germany, gave the 
 mightiest impulse — the chief priests of the 
 movement being Karl Marx ^ and Lassalle,^ 
 
 1 Born at Treves, in 1818. 
 
 2 Born at Breslau, in 1825. The epitaph on his tomb is 
 ''Ferdinand Lassalle, thinker and fighter." 
 
200 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 both of them of Jewish origin. They had im- 
 bibed the teaching of the new HegeHan school 
 of Philosophy ; and they fittingly represented 
 Germany — *' too thorough," as Marx says, " to 
 be able to revolutionise without revolutionising 
 from a fundamental principle, and following that 
 principle to its utmost limits." " Therefore," 
 as he adds, '' the emancipation of Germany will 
 be the emancipation of man. The head of this 
 emancipation is philosophy, its heart is the pro- 
 letariat." ^ Marx expounded the fundamental 
 principle; he, Lassalle, and their allies were 
 ready to follow it to its utmost limits. What 
 the principle is and what the limits are, all 
 can read, mark, and learn in the Bible of 
 the Socialist — the treatise of Marx on Capital. 
 
 When we turn to Great Britain, we can dis- 
 cern a preparation for the theories thus system- 
 atised in habitudes of philosophical thought 
 which were developed in the nineteenth century, 
 and in certain social features which the era of 
 mechanical invention ushered in. 
 
 From the closing years of the eighteenth 
 century many streams of tendency issued, whose 
 effect was to modify both ethical and political 
 opinion. A more liberal spirit had been infused 
 into the popular theologies; the scepticism of 
 
 1 Article in the * Deutsche Franzosische Jahrbiicher. 
 
Political Philosophy, 2 o i 
 
 Hume had '* coldly towed " the age towards 
 abysses from which, nevertheless, it drew back ; 
 the empirical character of the Scottish school of 
 philosophy had obtained a vogue; the influence 
 of the destructive theories that originated in 
 France had been widely operative ; — these forces, 
 combined with a more vivid perception of poli- 
 tical and social injustice, helped to form a body 
 of thought which, rejecting a priori and metaphys- 
 ical notions, made experience a guide, and utility 
 the standard both of public and of private action. 
 The patriarch of this school was Jeremy Ben- 
 tham, who borrowed from Priestley the cele- 
 brated phrase, *' The greatest happiness of the 
 greatest number," ^ and accepted it and applied 
 it " as a plain as well as true standard for what- 
 ever is right or wrong, useful, useless, or mis- 
 chievous in human conduct, whether in the field 
 of morals or of politics." Keeping in view the 
 end indicated in this phrase, Bentham insisted on 
 the need of a thorough, a root-and-branch, reform 
 of laws and methods of administration ; and his 
 contention was enforced and extended by his 
 followers, the foremost of whom was James Mill. 
 They provided *' a political philosophy for radical 
 reformers," and their philosophy rapidly spread. 
 
 1 The phrase is sometimes ascribed to Ilutcheson, and it is 
 traced lo Ilelvetius. 
 
202 Present-Day P7'obleins. 
 
 In important respects, it differed from, yet by 
 the diffusion of its main ideas it prepared the 
 way for, sociaHsm. Utihtarians of the earher 
 period held that '' all Government is one vast 
 evil." This also is the contention of the ex- 
 treme socialistic anarchist ; but they held that it 
 is a necessary evil, and that it needs, not to be 
 abolished, but to be prevented from doing harm 
 by regulation. They anticipated the view of the 
 socialist so far as to affirm that, under control, 
 the State might act on the whole life of the 
 people; but ''a tendency towards State social- 
 ism Bentham would have detested above all 
 things, and yet that is the direction inevitably 
 taken by supreme authority where the responsi- 
 bility for the greater happiness of the greater 
 number is imposed upon it by popular demand."^ 
 They looked on mankind as a unity, they re- 
 garded the collective more than the individual 
 good, and urged that the individual must give 
 way to *' the greater number " ; but, whilst to this 
 extent socialistic, they favoured competition, in- 
 sisted on the liberty of the individual, and main- 
 tained the inevitable operation of economic laws. 
 To them, the chief function of the State was the 
 protection of the subject ; any movement be- 
 yond this line they regarded with jealousy. But, 
 
 ^ Edinburgh Review, April 1901. 
 
English Utilitarianism. 203 
 
 although differing at vital points from socialistic 
 doctrine, English utilitarianism prepared for it. 
 It emphasised utility as the one mark of light 
 to which all else is subordinate, and by regard to 
 which all else must be adjusted. It held up 
 social happiness as the end to be promoted, 
 often through the sacrifice of the unit ; and by 
 its denunciation of social injustices and inequali- 
 ties, and its insistence on justice as the one con- 
 dition of wellbeing, it disposed towards sympathy 
 with a voice which quivered with the passion for 
 justice to the exploited multitudes.^ 
 
 But with the advance of the nineteenth century 
 intellectual and political apprehensions assumed a 
 more earnest and spiritual tone. The utilitar- 
 ianism of Bentham and James Mill was frigid and 
 feeble. It scarcely recognised a motive higher 
 than an enlightened social selfishness. Its only 
 certainties were empirical. It gave no final au- 
 thority to religion. Its swnmtim bonum, as Arnold 
 pointed out, is not identical with human life. 
 And thus, whilst it did good service in quickening 
 the conscience of the nation as to righteousness, 
 and in pointing to needed reconstructions, " it 
 achieved little success in the enterprise of pro- 
 viding new and firmer guidance and support to 
 
 1 'The English Utilitarians,' by Leslie Stephen, gives an admir- 
 able history and criticism of Utilitarianism. 
 
204 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 mankind in their troubles and perplexities " ^ A 
 more potent breath was required to fill the sails ; 
 and this breath came firom three sources. From 
 the region of abstract thought, — through the deeper 
 hold which the idealism interpreted by Coleridge 
 gained, and ultimately through the spread of 
 Hegelian conceptions among select but ardent 
 minds, largely due to the magnetic power of the 
 late J. H. Green of Oxford. From the political 
 world, — through the disappearance of statesmen 
 of the type of Lord Melbourne, and the ascend- 
 ancy of men who felt the reality of the two 
 nations in Great Britain — the nation in and the 
 nation out, the nation rich and the nation poor — 
 and the necessity of realising the harmony that 
 might quench the discords. And, finally, from the 
 Church of Christ, — in consequence of a revival 
 of religious and moral life. The rationalism 
 which had dried up the channels of enthusiasm 
 was shaken off. A new enthusiasm for Christ was 
 a new enthusiasm of humanity. A freer, broader 
 view of His relation to mankind, and of the re- 
 lation of men through Him to God and to one 
 another, opened up vistas both into the truth and 
 the worth of personal life, and into the solidarity 
 of the race headed in the Son of Man. Measured 
 by the vision of the Incarnate Lord, injustices, 
 
 ^ Edinburgh Review, April 1901. 
 
Tendencies in the direction of Socialism. 205 
 
 oppressions, excessive competitions of man against 
 man, stood in broad relief, as not only wrongs, 
 but as crimes and sins — denials of the brother- 
 hood which is rooted in the sonship of men to 
 the one Eternal Father. It was this spirit of life 
 that led to the endeavours after co-operation 
 which Mr Maurice and Judge Hughes so strenu- 
 ously promoted, and to the sympathy with the 
 miseries which the Chartist riots of 1848 revealed 
 — a sympathy which Charles Kingsley with fierce, 
 wild eloquence interpreted in ' Alton Locke.' It 
 is this spirit of life that is the inspiration of the 
 phase of socialism (if the name can with strict 
 propriety be given to it) that is distinguished as 
 Christian. 
 
 Thus, climates of judgment and feeling were 
 caused to which the exposure of unjust and de- 
 graded life- conditions appealed, and by which, 
 even when the economic platform of the socialist 
 was declined, a mental inclination was developed 
 towards the interventions of society, in its or- 
 ganised form, — the State,— which the socialist 
 advocated. 
 
 Now, besides the poverty and untowardness of 
 lot which the Bread Riots and the Chartist con- 
 spiracies of the earlier half of the last century evi- 
 denced, fostering an acuteness of discontent which 
 gave increased impetus to revolutionary ideas, 
 
2o6 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 the discovery and application of steam-power, 
 with all the inventions introduced in connexion 
 with this power, tended to a wider separation of 
 the two nations referred to. The gap between 
 the master and the workman thus created did 
 not exist in an earlier day. Master, journeyman, 
 and apprentice, were nearer each other in circum- 
 stances and in toil. They were visibly associated 
 in the production for which all together laboured ; 
 and the work had more of a human interest in it. 
 There was less specialisation. The labourer was 
 a work-man, not a work-hand. When the loom 
 was guided by the hand, weavers were compara- 
 tively independent persons : in the village or the 
 county town many of them plied their task, hav- 
 ing their game at quoits when the pause in the 
 day's work occurred, and discussing with one 
 another things great and small in Religion and 
 in Politics. The weaver was an individualist, 
 often an opinionative Radical. All this was 
 changed when mechanical power came into use, 
 and one machine could do the work of hundreds 
 of men. The reign of capital and of the capi- 
 talist began ; colossal mills and factories were 
 started, whose heads were separated by a great 
 gulf from their employes. Warning voices had 
 been sounded at the first stages of this new de- 
 parture. Robert Owen prophesied that steam 
 
Social Results of Indztstrial Machinery. 207 
 
 machinery would degrade and impoverish the 
 working classes. De Tocqueville bade men keep 
 their eyes anxiously in the direction of modern 
 manufactures ; for, he said, *' if ever a permanent 
 inequality of condition and aristocracy again pene- 
 trate into the world, it may be predicted that this 
 will be the channel by which they will enter." ^ 
 It seemed as if these anticipations were being 
 fulfilled as the century proceeded. " The robust 
 Saxon," exclaimed Emerson, " degenerates in the 
 mills to the Leicester stockinger, to the imbecile 
 Manchester spinner — far on the way to be spiders 
 and needles." ^ The specialisation which was 
 developed turned work into a cheerless drudgery, 
 in which there was little to interest the mind, and 
 no prospect except an everlasting grind at the 
 one thing. And, at the opposite pole, was the 
 master and owner of the machinery, personating 
 a new type of aristocracy very different from the 
 type of the old. The old nobility for the most 
 part lived among their tenantry. The relations 
 between them and their tenantry were not wholly 
 commercial. There were many interchanges of 
 personal feeling : kindly relations were often an 
 inheritance from past generations ; there was a 
 common fund of associations, local and historical. 
 
 ^ Democracy in America, Book IT. chap. xx. 
 2 English Traits, p. 240. 
 
2o8 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 " The estate " was a subject of pride and interest 
 alike to tenant and to peer or squire, and a reci- 
 procity of services of various kinds linked the 
 family in the hall or castle to all the families on 
 the estate. But this new aristocracy was com- 
 mercial in all its attitudes to the workers em- 
 ployed. By the exaction of the toil, and the 
 payment of the wages, the bond was fulfilled. In 
 many cases, the bond was exceeded, and acts of 
 consideration and benevolence were performed. 
 But it was an excess of that which was accepted 
 as the contract. The mill-lords, the cotton or 
 iron aristocrats, rose to the heights of opulence, 
 and only occasionally did they stoop from their 
 heights to survey the condition of those by whose 
 labour they were made wealthy. Nor has the posi- 
 tion improved ; in some respects, it has become 
 worse rather than better. It was possible to im- 
 press the new aristocracy in the earlier period 
 with a sense of moral responsibility for those 
 whom they employed, and the illustrations of this 
 sense of responsibility were frequently noble. But 
 limited liability companies, syndicates of many 
 sorts, have become the order of the day ; and to 
 these, as such, the one concern is the dividend. 
 
 Now, all this marks one of those changes in 
 social estate as to which Mr Lecky says, that " in 
 widening the chasm and impairing the sympathy 
 
Social Separations. 209 
 
 between rich and poor they cannot fail, however 
 beneficial may be their effects, to bring with them 
 grave dangers to the State. It is incontestable," 
 he adds, **that the immense increase of manufac- 
 turing population has had this tendency." ^ And 
 we need not limit our view to the manufacturing 
 element. In recent years, another class has been 
 largely augmented — the class of those who amass 
 wealth by combinations, rings, pools, speculations 
 of one kind and another, whose fortunes are not 
 made through capital going to support productive 
 labour — rendering the separation of wealth-land 
 still more harsh, and the inequality still more 
 glaring. 
 
 Add to the impression some concomitants of 
 the alterations in social life effected during the 
 bygone century. The rush from the rural dis- 
 tricts into the great centres of industrial activity 
 depleted the country, congested the town, and is 
 the cause of the constant tendency of a large 
 section to poverty — the section that is composed 
 of those whose means of livelihood are irregular 
 and uncertain, and of those the nature of whose 
 employments subjects them to risks of accident 
 to limb and to loss of health. And the amount of 
 child-labour, which is a result of the competition 
 of modern industry, threatens to injure the phys- 
 
 1 England in the Eighteenth Century, vol. ii. p. 693. 
 O 
 
2IO Present-Day Problems. 
 
 ical and moral tone of the community. In work- 
 shops, in home industries, on the streets, thousands 
 of children are daily at work. The law of the 
 land, indeed, protects them. Ten Acts bearing 
 on this protection stood in the Statute - Book 
 sixty years ago : the ten have been multiplied ten 
 times. But, notwithstanding all the protection as 
 to age, manner, and hours of employment, the fact 
 remains that children earning wages, sometimes 
 in addition to the work of school, are pressed into 
 services, even in evasion of the law. In purchasing 
 the evening newspaper from the boy or the girl 
 who offers it, we little think of what this one item 
 —street-hawking — signifies. A Manchester school 
 board reports that 66 per cent of the children 
 committed to industrial schools is composed of 
 street - hawkers ; and magistrates and police 
 officials have again and again reminded us that 
 this child-work tends to form habits of loafing, 
 and to destroy the aptitude for continuous and 
 strenuous effort. 
 
 The influence of such, and of many other, 
 features in producing the discontent that is 
 the ally of sociaHsm is obvious. Karl Marx 
 went to London in 1850, and there he resided 
 for years. The immediate result of his mission 
 was not encouraging. He agitated, he wrote 
 pamphlets : in 1864, on the formation of the 
 
Socialistic Ormnisations. 
 
 ^>' 
 
 21 I 
 
 International Working Men's Association, he 
 raised the battle-cry of an earlier time, " Pro- 
 letarians of all nations, unite ! " His labour 
 seemed to be in vain. The association was 
 short-lived. Sick at heart, he retired to Paris, 
 where he died in the sixty-sixth year of his 
 age. But the seed that he sowed, and that ap- 
 parently had died, was quickened. Out of the 
 ruins of the Working Men's Association arose, 
 in 1881, the Social Democratic Federation. The 
 efforts that had preceded it in England were 
 wanting *'in the fundamental principle," and in 
 *' the purpose to carry that to its utmost limits." 
 The new federation was thorough : and eager 
 spirits — such as the poet Morris, Hyndman, 
 Dr Aveling, Marx's son-in-law, and the Rev. 
 Stewart Headlam — rallied around it. It had a 
 brief career of prosperity, and then it was split 
 into two parties — the seceding party, led by 
 Morris, forming the Socialist League. From 
 that league also Morris at a later date seceded. 
 In Scotland, one socialistic society inclined to 
 the confederation, and another to the league. 
 
 In the present day, there are several organisa- 
 tions — Labour Leagues, &c. — propagating social- 
 istic tenets, conspicuous among which is the 
 Fabian Society, including persons of more or 
 less pronounced views, whose tracts and essays 
 
212 Present-Day Problems, 
 
 are widely circulated. The most influential of 
 all agencies is the New Unionism, which has 
 largely captured trades-unions. There can be 
 no doubt that the socialism which finds a 
 variety of expression in Great Britain, on the 
 Continent, in the United States, is an im- 
 portant factor in social life, and one to be 
 anxiously scrutinised. What is it ? What does 
 it inculcate ? What are its " utmost limits " ? 
 What are the good and the evil, the beneficial 
 and the dangerous, elements in it? What in it 
 is to be resisted ? What is to be utilised ? 
 These are questions which the Church must 
 face if it would serve its generation. The 
 labour problem, with all that adheres to it, 
 is one of the problems of the hour. 
 
 Let us discriminate. 
 
 I. Is socialism to be regarded as the inevitable 
 consequence, or the necessary trend, of demo- 
 cracy ? That it is so is the assertion of many 
 who anticipate the downfall of what they style 
 the Botirgeoiste — the society whose dominating 
 element is that of the middle -class capitalist. 
 Babceuf, when he took the name of Caius 
 Gracchus and formed the union of the egatix, 
 urged that a real democracy can attain to its 
 ideal only by means of socialism ; and German 
 writers, such as Stahl, look on it as the natural 
 
Socialism and De?)iocracy. 2 1 3 
 
 terminus of democracy. Now, there is a close 
 alliance between the two. The one, indeed, 
 postulates the other. Its theory of the State 
 must be a democratic theory. At its core, there 
 is the conception that all have a share — the 
 extreme view is an equal share — in the entire 
 good of the nation, and that the Government 
 of the nation should be organised on the recog- 
 nition of this common interest, and for the pur- 
 pose of giving full effect to it. But, as has 
 been frequently pointed out, it depends on the 
 nature of the Government and the conditions 
 of the people whether the movement towards 
 socialistic distributions shall or shall not be 
 allowed to overbear the freedom of the indi- 
 vidual, and shall or shall not be so controlled 
 as to secure the utilities which Collectivism can 
 realise, whilst allowing ample scope for personal 
 enterprise. In the great military empires of the 
 Continent, democratic feeling is bitterly hostile 
 to the actual Government, — the more pronounced 
 sentiment is bitterly hostile to all governments, 
 — and it insists on a radical revolution in all 
 that concerns the State. On the other hand, 
 in the United States of America, with its non- 
 military and democratic constitution, the idea 
 on which the executive has been built up is 
 that its aim is the protection of the individual 
 
214 Present- D ay Proble7}is. 
 
 citizen, in order that he may have free and full 
 play for his energy, and that he may have the 
 undisturbed enjoyment of its fruits. There are 
 checks on the possession of land, but there are 
 few checks on commercial and industrial opera- 
 tion. The one thing provided for is, that every 
 man shall have the opportunity of doing the 
 best he can for himself without the intervention 
 of the powers of the State. And though social- 
 istic tenets have a following which, as the popu- 
 lation increases and the complexities that such 
 an increase causes multiply, will probably be- 
 come larger, the main current of opinion is 
 strongly anti-socialistic. 
 
 The position is, that socialism must " either 
 mean industrial democracy or nothing."^ But 
 democracy as a form of government does not 
 necessarily involve socialism. Some of the 
 most strenuous upholders of democracy have 
 repudiated socialism. De Tocqueville, for ex- 
 ample, put the issue thus in the French Parlia- 
 ment : " Democracy extends the sphere of 
 individual independence ; socialism contracts it. 
 Democracy gives every individual man his ut- 
 most possible value; socialism makes every man 
 an agent, an instrument, a cipher. Democracy 
 and socialism coincide only in the single word 
 
 1 John Raskin as Social Reformer, p. 204. 
 
Socialism and Comnmnism. 2 1 5 
 
 equality. But observe the difference. Demo- 
 cracy desires equality in liberty ; socialism seeks 
 equality in compulsion and servitude." ^ With- 
 out wholly indorsing this statement, it may be 
 held that, though the democratic apprehension 
 of society demands " a self-government in which 
 the whole of the self, the organic experience 
 and judgment of the whole rational system, 
 shall find direct conscious expression,"^ this 
 demand is separable from that of the socialist 
 — from the contention that the State shall not 
 only express the experience of society, but shall 
 undertake the administration of industry, and 
 shall distribute the tools and instruments of 
 production to the citizens. 
 
 2. What is the relation between socialism and 
 communism ? That they are related at vital 
 points is made evident by the study of both 
 systems. But to neither is the whole conten- 
 tion of the other necessary. To the socialist, a 
 kind of communism is essential ; for, his demand 
 is that inequalities of estate shall cease, and com- 
 munism implies equality of estate. According to 
 some Continental socialistic programmes, nations 
 are to be broken up and the element of nation- 
 ality is to be eliminated by the formation of small 
 communities, in which property shall be held in 
 
 ^ Speech in 1849. ' Ruskin as Social Reformer, p. 206. 
 
2i6 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 common, and so distributed that all their con- 
 stituents shall be equally benefited.^ But this is 
 an extreme view, the adherence to which is very 
 limited. Many advocates of socialistic tenets in- 
 sist on only the minimum of the communistic 
 conception. On the other hand, whilst the com- 
 munist must hold to a collective ownership of 
 land or of goods, he may, and frequently does, 
 part from the socialist on the question of the 
 intervention of the State. In a previous chapter, 
 reference was made to the monastic institutions 
 of the mediaeval period, whose only enforcement 
 was a religious motive and the voluntary self- 
 abnegation of those who entered the orders. In 
 the United States of America, there are, or lately 
 were, more than seventy fraternities, among them 
 being the sects of the Shakers and the Rappists, 
 whose bond of union is partly materialistic, partly 
 ethical, partly religious, but which have no political 
 character or aim. Their sole object is to practise 
 certain rules of life and conduct, based on the 
 principle that each member must contribute to 
 the commonwealth in service regulated, as he 
 himself must be controlled, by the will of the 
 fraternity or its head, or, as in the case of the 
 Shakers, those who are supposed to interpret the 
 Christ-Spirit. To this extent, therefore, there is 
 
 ^ This was the proposal of some Spanish and Italian socialists. 
 
Socialism and Social Effort. 2 1 7 
 
 an acceptance of the collectivist ideal, but there 
 is not an acceptance of the expression of this ideal 
 propounded by socialism. 
 
 3. Further; in the present day, persons differing 
 in political sentiment are united in the desire and 
 endeavour to reduce inequalities of opportunity, 
 and terminate the exploitation of masses of the 
 population. Are they to be regarded as, if not 
 socialists, tending towards socialism ? 
 
 It is in the interest of the agitator to paint the 
 iniquity of existing social arrangements with a 
 brush which has been dipped in the strongest 
 possible colours. Marx, for example, described 
 the bourgeoisie reign to be the conversion of 
 society into an aggregate of beggars and million- 
 aires.^ Who that includes in his purview all the 
 facts of the situation can be misled by such a 
 description ? Who can indorse the assertion 
 that the condition of the labouring class under 
 the heel of capitalism is simply a movement from 
 a bad into an ever worse ? These are exaggera- 
 tions which common-sense contemptuously rejects. 
 ''The more things improve, the louder becomes 
 the exclamation about their badness." This is 
 (as has previously been remarked) because, first, 
 the general improvement sheds an intenser light 
 on the features that are grim and sad; because, 
 
 1 Contemporary Socialism, p. 141. 
 
2 1 8 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 second, the social conscience has been more fully 
 educated and is more sensitive in regard to them ; 
 and because, third, every advance in wellbeing 
 creates new wants which clamour to be satisfied. 
 Nevertheless, though overdrawn representations 
 are set aside or largely discounted, earnest men 
 and women of varying shades of opinion keenly 
 feel all that is only too true in the socialist's 
 indictment, and are ready to dismiss preconcep- 
 tions or prejudices in the attempt to find a solu- 
 tion of the problem presented. But they are not, 
 on this account, to be ranked as socialists. 
 
 Lately, when referring in the House of Lords 
 to some proposals in the direction of social re- 
 form, the Prime Minister said : *' They are con- 
 nected with great evils, and no one who is not 
 absolutely blind will deny the existence of these 
 evils. It is our duty to do all we can to find 
 remedies ; even if we are called socialist for doing 
 so we shall be reconciled to it." A good man, in 
 supporting what he believes to be right, is not 
 concerned as to the terms that may be cast at 
 him. But we only confuse words when we attach 
 the name to those who devise liberal measures for 
 the amelioration of wrongs and ills, whilst they 
 separate themselves from the revolution that is 
 behind the name. In 1848, M. Proudhon was 
 asked by a magistrate, " What is socialism ? " 
 
Extensions of State Poivcrs. 2 1 9 
 
 He replied, '' Every aspiration towards the ameli- 
 oration of society." " In that case," said the 
 magistrate, " we are all socialists." " That is 
 precisely what I think," rejoined M. Proudhon. 
 But Professor Flint, who relates this, rightly 
 demands, " What, then, was the use of the 
 definition ? " ^ 
 
 4. Once more; is it to be argued that the exten- 
 sion of the powers of the State for the promotion 
 of material and moral wellbeing means socialism ? 
 Practically, the laissez faire doctrine of econ- 
 omists has been abandoned. John Stuart Mill, 
 as the interpreter of laissez faire, laid it down as 
 a first principle that *' the sole end for which man- 
 kind are warranted, individually or collectively, 
 in interfering with the liberty of action of any of 
 their members is self-protection ; the sole purpose 
 for which power can be rightly exercised is to 
 prevent harm to others."'^ We have travelled 
 far beyond this position. Mere self-protection 
 is not now regarded as ''the sole end" of the 
 interference of mankind collectively. Mere pre- 
 vention of harm to others is not now regarded 
 as *'the sole purpose for which power can be 
 rightly exercised." The State is not now viewed 
 merely as a constable, with the two commands, 
 " Keep moving," and, " Hands off from one 
 
 1 Socialism, p. 23. " ^^^'^^y u" Liberty. 
 
2 20 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 another." It is looked upon as the instrument 
 by which, through legislation confirming action 
 initiated by individuals or by public bodies, and 
 in certain cases initiating action, the good of 
 the community may be furthered, healthier and 
 wealthier life may be secured, and society may 
 be enabled to make increase to '* the edifying 
 of itself in love." And if in recent years it has 
 more and more acknowledged an ethical char- 
 acter and responsibility, is not this only the 
 carrying out, in the changed circumstances of 
 the day, of a traditional ideal of government ? 
 When our forefathers maintained that it is the 
 duty of the State to provide for the moral and 
 religious welfare of the people, and therefore to 
 establish and confirm the Christian religion, they 
 virtually asserted that, as the guardian of all 
 social interests, the State is bound to protect 
 and promote the righteousness which exalts a 
 nation. Many Legislative Acts, whose object is 
 to make life more wholesome and virtuous, re- 
 ceived the royal assent during the Victorian era. 
 Amended Poor Laws, Factory and Workshop 
 Acts, compulsory Elementary Education without 
 the charging of fees. Workmen's Compensation 
 Acts, Acts for inebriates. Acts forbidding the 
 sale of spirituous liquors to children, are illus- 
 trations. And, in other ways, the power of 
 
State Transformation. 
 
 2 2 1 
 
 collective intervention has been enlarged. The 
 control of the telegraph system has been added 
 to that of postal communication. The Legis- 
 lature has sanctioned the action of corporations, 
 with a view to better housing and to the recrea- 
 tion and health of the labouring classes. Means 
 of locomotion and of telephonic exchanges have 
 been municipalised. We are using the powers 
 of the State with ever-increasing readiness, not 
 simply for the protection of individual citizens, 
 but for the promotion of the greater happiness 
 of the greater number. But socialism means 
 something more and else than this. 
 
 What it asks is not so much State help as State 
 transformation. The help is conceded when good 
 cause is shown. But there is a great gulf fixed 
 between carefulty considered State action in sup- 
 plement of the endeavours of the community for 
 purposes the carrying out of which implies a 
 monopoly of means, or which cannot be done 
 or so well done except through such action, and 
 that which socialism in its more crystallised form 
 contemplates. 
 
 What, then, does it contemplate ? in other 
 words, What is socialism ? 
 
222 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE POSITIONS OF SOCIALISM. 
 
 Socialism is one of those indefinite terms under 
 which many theories, differing from each other at 
 many points but united by a common idea, are 
 comprehended. '' The societies," writes Mr W. 
 R. Greg, " have assumed every possible variety of 
 form. We have had repubHcan societies like 
 Plato's, Fourier's, and Baboeuf's ; hierarchical 
 and aristocratic like Simon's ; theocratic like the 
 Essenes ; despotic like that of the old Peruvians, 
 and that of the Jesuits in Paraguay ; polygamists 
 like the Mormons. Some have been based on 
 purely material principles like Mr Owen's ; some 
 have been profoundly spiritual and religious like 
 the Moravians ; some maintain the family arrange- 
 ments, some altogether merge them ; some recom- 
 mend celibacy as the Essenes, some enforce it as 
 the Shakers. Some, like the Owenites, relax the 
 marriage tie ; some, like the Harmonists, control 
 
The Appeal of Modern Socialism. 22 
 
 -^-v) 
 
 it ; some, like the Moravians, hold it sacred and 
 indissoluble ; others again, like Plato and the 
 Anabaptists of Munster, advocate a community of 
 women. Some would divide the wealth of the 
 society equally among all the members ; some, as 
 Fourier, unequally. But one great idea pervades 
 them all — community of property, more or less 
 complete and unreserved. Common labour for 
 the common good." ^ 
 
 Modern socialism — that with which we are now 
 concerned — includes this idea but adds to it, and 
 only in the addition do we find its distinctive plat- 
 form. There are points at which it appeals to 
 thoughtful and earnest minds. It interprets an 
 ideal of life which interests those who are in sym- 
 pathy with the spiritual - social sides of Christ- 
 ianity. It interprets an ideal of Government 
 which some who long for a more rapid initiative, 
 and a more effectual action for the public weal, 
 are disposed to hail. It interprets an economic 
 ideal in which not only labour leagues and leaders 
 discern social salvation, but which attracts the 
 attention of many who regard political eco- 
 nomy, as hitherto expounded, as '' the dismal 
 science." Thus it attracts many, who have yet 
 no fellowship with its ulterior aims, with some of 
 
 1 Mistaken Aims and Unattainable Ideals of the Artizan Class, 
 pp. 192, 193. 
 
2 24 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 its cardinal principles, and with the methods by 
 which it proposes to apply its principles and carry 
 out its aims. 
 
 The late Bishop of Durham, Dr Westcott, is 
 an illustration. To him the attraction was the 
 theory of life. Individualism denotes competi- 
 tion ; the method of socialism is co - operation. 
 The one looks on man as working against man for 
 private gain ; the other looks on man as working 
 with man for a common end. The one aims at 
 the attainment of some personal advantage either 
 of place or of fame ; the other aims at the fulfil- 
 ment of service. Hence the preference of the 
 saintly bishop. He protested against the idea 
 of *' humanity as made up of disconnected or 
 jarring atoms " ; he looked on humanity " as 
 an organic whole, a vital unity formed by the 
 combination of contributory members mutually 
 interdependent." The economic aspect of social- 
 ism he let alone ; the humanitarian aspect which 
 it incorporates secured his suffrage.^ And in this 
 he exemplifies the attitude assumed by a large 
 number of earnest minds which are permeated by 
 the Christian law of ministry, binding men by 
 love to serve one another. But the system or 
 the variety of systems that we differentiate as 
 socialistic is political and economical. The ques- 
 
 ^ The Incarnation and Common Life. 
 
Characteristic Positions of Socialis7?i. 225 
 
 tion to which it suppHes an answer is, How by 
 State or collective organisation may this law of 
 ministry be rendered binding on men and uni- 
 versal ? how is competition to be abolished ? and 
 how, by the supremacy of co-operation, are the 
 evils ascribed to competition to be eradicated ? 
 
 The expositions of this answer are numerous. 
 Some are so vague that for the purpose of defini- 
 tion they are useless ; some are so loose that they 
 are not self- consistent. Of this sort are such 
 statements as that socialism means nothing else 
 than ''the betterment of society";^ or, again, 
 that it means " every tendency which demands 
 any kind of subordination of the individual will 
 to the community."^ These, and many similar 
 statements, explain nothing. They do not an- 
 nounce the characteristic positions of socialism. 
 To ascertain them, we must turn to more fully 
 formulated and authoritative pronouncements; 
 and we may select Dr Schaffle in his ' Quintes- 
 sence of Socialism ' as perhaps the most moderate 
 and "business-like" of all. The book has this 
 feature, that, whilst it clearly indicates the lines of 
 the proposed action, and is sympathetic with 
 them, it is fully aware of the difficulties attend- 
 
 1 Kaufman, in 'Subjects of the Day,' No.'2. 
 
 2 Held, Sozialismus, &c., p. 29. 
 
 P 
 
2 26 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 ing their adoption. In a later work, the author 
 declares the socialistic democracy impossible.^ 
 
 "The Alpha and Omega of socialism," Dr 
 Schaffle asserts, '' is the transformation of private 
 and competing capitals into a united collective 
 capital."^ The goal contemplated is, ''No cap- 
 italists and no wage - earners, but all alike pro- 
 ducers " ; for, " instead of the system of private 
 and competing capitals which drive down wages 
 by competition, there shall be a collective owner- 
 ship of capital, public organisation of labour and 
 of the distribution of the national income." ^ 
 " The State is to collect, warehouse, and trans- 
 port all products, and finally to distribute them 
 to individuals in proportion to the registered 
 
 ^ " The freedom of the individual would lose in a degree which 
 democracy would by no means tolerate. Popular government very 
 easily degenerates into mob-rule, and this is always more favourable 
 to the common and the insignificant than to the noble and distin- 
 guished. Hence democratic Collectivism itself would be likely to 
 wound in a high degree the most sensitive self-respect, without 
 leaving as much freedom as does the present system of private ser- 
 vice in the choice of employment and employer, or of a place of 
 abode. Its only equality would be that no one was in anywise in- 
 dependent, but all slaves of the majority, and on this point again 
 democratic Collectivism would come to grief and utterly fail to keep 
 the promises it makes to the better class of working men whose self- 
 respect is injured by the existing state of things." — The Impossi- 
 bility of Social Democracy, p. 95, 
 
 2 Quintessence, p. 20 (English translation). 
 
 » Ibid., p. 28. 
 
Schdffle on Socialism, 227 
 
 amount of social labour, and according to a 
 valuation of commodities exactly corresponding 
 to their average cost of production." ^ "All 
 incomes are equally to represent a share in the 
 national produce allotted directly by the com- 
 munity in proportion to the work done — that is, 
 exclusive returns to labour." ^ This is set forth 
 as the quintessence. We are called to set aside 
 all other issues, other points which are often 
 tagged into theories ; and, as the one vital matter, 
 to fasten on the abolition of private ownership of 
 all instruments of production (land, factories, 
 machines, tools, &c.), so that all producers will 
 individually be no more than workmen, working 
 with the instruments of production common 
 to all."=^ 
 
 Thus far Dr Schaffle. With his view popu- 
 lar representations coincide. The programme of 
 socialism is explained in a leaflet of the Fabian 
 Society to " consist essentially of one demand, 
 that the land and other instruments of produc- 
 tion shall be the common property of the people, 
 and shall be used and governed by the people 
 for the people." For this, as " his fundamental 
 principle," to be carried to "its utmost limits," 
 Karl Marx contended. Individual landowners 
 and capitalists of every sort are to be expro- 
 
 1 Quintessence, p. 45. 2 ibid., p. 9. ' j^jj^^ pp^ 7^ 3_ 
 
2 28 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 priated, and the whole means of the nation are 
 to be held by the community, in order that dis- 
 tribution according to need or labour may be 
 made to all labourers. No profits and no 
 wages, for all are to be sharers in a common 
 good. No masters and no servants, for all are 
 to be servants of the one master, the com- 
 munity, getting the full value of their labour 
 in production. Rewards may be given to 
 special intelligence or service; but the hon- 
 oraria are to be determined by the community. 
 The State— that is, ''the proletariat itself or- 
 ganised as a governing body " — is to be the one 
 and only proprietor, the one and only capitalist, 
 the one and only paymaster ; the possessor and 
 distributer of the entire wealth ; the universal 
 providence as well as executive. Such is the 
 new economy whose triumph is the hope, the 
 " Christ that is to be," of Socialism. 
 
 To the economic constitution of society, then, 
 we must address ourselves. There are many 
 beautiful and interesting aspects in the en- 
 vironment of socialism, and generous or ardent 
 natures, interested by these aspects, are apt to 
 extend their sympathies to the system itself. 
 But in order to know what it is, what it pro- 
 poses, whither it leads, we must concentrate 
 attention on the economic aspect. If it pro- 
 
The Labour Question, 229 
 
 poses to bring in a millennium for the toiling 
 millions, it proposes to do this by a revolution 
 in respect of the fundamental conceptions and 
 constitutive principles of society ; and the canons 
 and aims of this revolution it is necessary to 
 sift. It would take us too far afield to criticise 
 all the positions that are taken. But some 
 of the difficulties that compel an attitude of 
 scepticism, and sometimes of opposition, it 
 seems incumbent to state. 
 
 I. 
 
 "The labour question," writes Professor Flint, 
 '* is the distinctively burning question of the 
 Europe of to-day, as the religious question was 
 of the Europe of the Reformation period, or 
 the political question of the Europe of the 
 Revolution epoch." ^ Now, it is on the rela- 
 tion of labour to wealth, on the rights of the 
 labourer, on the organisation of labour, that 
 socialism lays stress. It is essentially a scheme 
 to make labour the one, the all -dominating 
 fact— the measure of all value, the reference of 
 all government, the basis of the entire social 
 structure. 
 
 The fundamental principle of the structure 
 
 ^ Socialism, p. 104. 
 
230 Present- Day Problems, 
 
 which it would rear is the assertion of Adam 
 Smith, Ricardo, and other economists, that 
 *' labour is the source of all wealth " — one of 
 those assertions which, when duly guarded and 
 balanced, express a truth, but which, when not 
 thus balanced, are misleading and become un- 
 true. Exception may be taken to the phrase- 
 ology. However regarded, labour is rather the 
 conditio sine qua non than the source of wealth. 
 It does not originate ; it operates on material 
 supplied or available, and, utilising this material, 
 realises a value. Without labour, there cannot 
 be possession ; but possession would be impos- 
 sible unless, independently of labour, there were 
 a substance to be converted into use. We com- 
 mand nature by obeying it. No force benefits 
 us unless we serve it ; and such service or obe- 
 dience, through the exercise of patience, skill, 
 industry, is the condition of appropriating — not 
 of creating — the wealth. As thus understood, 
 it is in a sense true that there is no actual 
 value without labour. But when we say this, 
 it must be remembered that the term labour 
 includes many kinds of service — includes, indeed, 
 all volitions, all acts of thought, all forth-putting 
 of energy, all that brain and hand find to do. 
 Now, it is here that we discern the socialistic 
 misuse of the formula. The formula is practi- 
 
Is Mamtal Toil the Measure of Vahie ? 231 
 
 cally limited to one species of labour — manual. 
 Marx looks on that as ''the one uniform labour 
 power "^ which makes value. Instead of com- 
 prehending the total of labourers, intellectual 
 as well as industrial, only the industrial are in 
 the purview, and the changes are ever rung on 
 the note that their toil towards production is 
 the sole source of all the wealth in production. 
 This is utterly erroneous. The labourer cannot 
 produce without his instruments, without the 
 machinery by means of which he acts. But 
 the instruments, the machinery, represent money 
 which the labourer has not; they also imply 
 research, knowledge, inventive genius in which 
 the labourer has no share. Moreover, the plan 
 which the labourer works out, the conduct of 
 the business with which he is associated, the 
 finding of the market for goods produced, the 
 manifold dealing with commodities so that 
 they may be exchanged, all that makes the 
 work successful and profitable,— these are essen- 
 tial to the wealth, and have a right to be 
 reckoned as contributing to it. 
 
 To measure value by manual toil, to place 
 this toil in the seat of authority, is surely to 
 contract the horizons of life, and to set up an 
 
 1 Capital, p. 12. "For simplicity's sake we shall henceforth 
 account every kind of labour to be unskilled, simple labour." 
 
232 Present' Day Problems. 
 
 irrational touchstone of worth. But what is the 
 test imposed by Marx? He takes "simple, un- 
 skilled labour as the standard of all labour." 
 And he adds, *' The value of the most skilled 
 work, by equating it to the product of simple, 
 unskilled labour, represents a definite quantity 
 of the latter alone." ^ Is this tenable? Is it not 
 absurd, all but incomprehensible ? Quantity of 
 labour supreme over quality of labour ! There 
 is no equation by which the worth of a 
 sculptor's work can be equalised to the product 
 of a hodman's. The ten hours of the hodman 
 and the ten hours of the sculptor are the same 
 in respect of duration, but they are utterly 
 different in respect of the kind of work done, 
 of the amount of intellectual, artistic, emotional 
 brain-effort put into them ; and yet we are told 
 that the value of the sculptor's work represents 
 a definite quantity of the hodman's. '' As 
 values " — such is the generalisation — ** all com- 
 modities are only definite masses of congealed 
 labour-time." 2 Over its theories of value, and 
 the determinants of value, socialism becomes 
 confused : it is frequently befogged ; and, in 
 magnifying manual labour, it belittles other 
 forms of service. Even Dr Schaffle describes 
 ''judges, administrative officials, teachers, artists, 
 
 ^ Capital, vol. i. p. 12. 2 Capital, pp. 5, 6. 
 
Rights in the Produce of Labour. 
 
 -v)J 
 
 scientific investigators," as yielding services of 
 general utility, but, inasmuch as *' they are not 
 employed in the social circulation of material," 
 they are regarded as ** not immediately produc- 
 tive workers." And he would assign them a 
 share in the commodities produced by the 
 national labour " proportioned only to the time 
 spent by them in useful work." ^ This labour- 
 time is the exclusive reference : the labour 
 which produces material commodities is em- 
 phasised as the only source of the national 
 wealth. To many, this apprehension must ap- 
 pear narrow, unjust, even false. 
 
 The sceptical attitude assumed towards it may 
 be extended to the demand of socialism, that 
 " the labourer is entitled to the whole produce 
 of his labour." Those who make this demand 
 are by no means agreed as to details. It is one 
 thing in the mouth of a Russian nihilist, another 
 thing in the mouth of a French peasant-proprietor, 
 another thing still in the mouth of the English 
 socialist. Let us appeal to Karl Marx as the 
 most consistent and thorough expounder of its 
 significance. Value, he insists, is created by the 
 power of labour. The possessor of this power — 
 i.e., the labourer — sells it as a commodity at so 
 much per day. This is his day's wage. But in 
 
 ^ Quintessence, pp. 8, 9. 
 
234 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 his toil through the working day he creates a 
 value far in excess of that which he receives — 
 a surplus value which is appropriated by the 
 capitalist. The contention is that he is entitled 
 to the whole value — the surplus as well as the 
 wage. There are subtleties in the argument on 
 the subject of value on which it is unnecessary 
 to dwell. It is sufficient to recall the point 
 already referred to, that, in the view of the 
 socialistic economist, value is essentially time 
 of labour, with two conditions annexed : one, 
 that the article produced must be socially useful ; 
 and the other, that the time whose entire produce 
 the workman is to receive must be limited by his 
 capacity of endurance, and by the consideration 
 of the necessities of rest and leisure in order that 
 body and mind may be sustained in full vigour. 
 Making allowance for these requirements, it is 
 maintained that the entire result of the whole 
 day's toil — not the wage only, but the surplus 
 which now goes to the employer — is right- 
 fully the labourer's. And in so far as he is 
 not obtaining it, he is held to be robbed by 
 society.^ 
 
 Now, in all the reasoning by which this is 
 enforced, we observe the confusion previously 
 
 1 The latter parts of vol. i. and vol. ii. of * Capital ' elaborate the 
 position stated. 
 
PV/io are Labourers ? 235 
 
 traced. In the production of exchangeable or 
 of useful things, is the labourer to be regarded 
 as only the person who receives the wage, whose 
 time is purchased for the production ? A cap- 
 italist is generally regarded as one who advances 
 money and awaits the receipt of '* usury " or of 
 interest for the money ; but, as has been shown, 
 he may be, and very often is, the hardest labourer 
 of all — designing patterns or plans, financing, 
 watching, and taking advantage of changes in 
 style, fashion, or in processes of industry, con- 
 ducting a business larger or smaller. He may 
 have too much — that is another matter ; but is 
 he not also a labourer entitled to the value which 
 his time and energy create ? The reply of course 
 will be, that the individual capitalist, as distin- 
 guished from the individual labourer, is to be 
 abolished ; that there are to be no wages and 
 no profits, since all are to be sharers in the total 
 profit, each according to his labour. But, under 
 any conceivable arrangement, must there not be 
 some party holding the two halves of the scissors ? 
 some agency— indeed a vastly multiplied agency — 
 to guide, to inspect, to order, to keep books, to 
 be captains, lieutenants, scribes of industry ? The 
 time of this agency is not making production of 
 commodities, but it has its value. Those em- 
 ployed in it are not " labourers" in the restricted 
 
236 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 acceptation of the term, but they must be paid 
 for their service, and for this payment deduc- 
 tions must be made from the labourer's pro- 
 duce, in contravention of the principle that the 
 labourer is entitled to the total produce of his 
 labour. Further, if there is no single produc- 
 tion that does not involve the labour of many 
 workers, and workers of many sorts, how is this 
 variety of service essential to the value of any 
 commodity to be recognised ? If in the measure 
 in which industry is skilled, no particular product 
 can be regarded as the result of the toil of one 
 workman, how is it possible to fix what is the 
 whole produce to which every labourer is en- 
 titled ? The claim is beset with difficulties. A 
 Fabian essayist has endeavoured to cut the knot 
 by saying that *' the only truly socialistic scheme 
 will absolutely abolish all economic distinctions, 
 and establish the impossibility of their again 
 arising, by making an equal provision for the 
 maintenance of all an indefeasible condition of 
 citizenship without any regard whatever to the 
 relative specific services of different citizens." 
 Then, it may safely be said that '* the only truly 
 socialistic scheme" attempts the impossible; and 
 that if, in its idea and aim, socialism is interpreted 
 by such a scheme, the part which it prescribes for 
 itself is a constant ploughing of the sands. 
 
Property in Land. 237 
 
 That the labourer has an absolute right to all 
 the produce of his labour is not evident, unless 
 by the labourer is understood every one who by 
 brain, intelligence, money, or manual service con- 
 tributes to the result. But we can all urge that 
 the labourer, in the restricted acceptation of the 
 term, is entitled to an equitable proportion. It 
 is the business of the State to see that the con- 
 ditions of contracting for his labour are righteous, 
 to protect him against being defrauded, to put 
 him in the way of realising a fair value for him- 
 self, whilst he is creating value for society. Where 
 the intervention of the State is required to free 
 industry, or to guard the workman and give him 
 full play for his energy and for larger amounts 
 of happiness, there is the call for the application 
 of its powers. But every demand needs to be 
 carefully scrutinised, and, in the interests both 
 of the individual and of the community, doubtful 
 claims need to be challenged. 
 
 11. 
 
 The grudge of the more advanced expressions 
 of socialism against property in land is keen 
 and bitter. '* Private property is theft," said 
 Proudhon ; and his saying is one of the funda- 
 
238 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 mental principles of the new economy. The 
 land, with all its potentialities, is held to be- 
 long to the people. Nothing, it is urged, can 
 be called property that is not the fruit of 
 labour; and land is not the fruit of labour, but 
 the gift of God intended for all alike.^ No 
 person, therefore, has a right to the exclusive 
 tenure of any portion of it. '' To the landed 
 estates of the Duke of Westminster," exclaimed 
 Mr George, *' the poorest child that is born in 
 London to-day has as much right as his eldest 
 son." 2 
 
 Now, with regard to this contention two points 
 may be made. First, is the distinction between 
 land and other material — viz., that the one is 
 God's gift to all, and consequently is not to be 
 called property; and the other, being the fruit 
 of labour, is not gift but property — ^justified by 
 common-sense ? The soil, indeed, is a gift of 
 the Creator to man. But the same may be 
 said of all on which man operates ; and the con- 
 dition on which the soil becomes a source of 
 wealth is identical with that on which anything 
 else becomes a source of wealth — that is, the 
 labour of man. The Indian tribes which roamed 
 
 ^ This is the contention of Henry George in ' Progress and 
 Poverty.' 
 2 Quoted in 'Contemporary Socialism,' p. 489. 
 
The Right to the Fruits of C^iltivation. 239 
 
 through the forests of America, and the Aus- 
 tralian aborigines who reared their rude tents 
 in the bush, saw the land, trode it, slept on it ; 
 but it yielded them no wealth, except that which 
 was realised by produce on which they bestowed 
 no labour, and by the use of bow and arrow. 
 There was no value in it for them, because the 
 gift of God did not, by labour, become property. 
 If labour is essential to the utilisation of the 
 gift, then, accepting the definition given, the 
 question of property in land comes immediately 
 into view. No abstract conception of the land 
 as belonging to all alike can bar the right 
 to possess the fruits of the portion of land 
 which one man or one family cultivates. But, 
 second, in respect of this right, does not the 
 Christian ethicist maintain that no one has an 
 absolute and unchallengeable tenure of any 
 good ? Property has been defined as '* the right 
 to use and to abuse." ^ " A claim," observes 
 Herbert Spencer, " to private property in land 
 involves a landowning despotism." And the 
 case he puts is, " It would be proper for the 
 sole proprietor of any kingdom — a Jersey or 
 Guernsey, for example — to impose just what 
 regulations he might choose on its inhabitants, 
 to tell them that they should not live on his 
 
 ^ M, Proudhon. 
 
240 Present -Day Problems. 
 
 property unless they professed a certain re- 
 ligion, spoke a particular language, paid him a 
 specified reverence, adopted an authorised dress, 
 and conformed to all other conditions he might 
 see fit to make." ^ Now, there is no need to 
 deal with an assertion so extravagant. It is 
 not within the range of practical politics. But 
 one who looks forth on society in the mind of 
 Christ rejects the idea of an " unlimited des- 
 potism." He holds that any and every tenure 
 are from the righteous God, and that to Him 
 and His righteousness all are responsible for 
 its occupancy. None have such a right to it 
 as to have the right to abuse it. If a landlord 
 abuses his possession, if, under his custody, it 
 becomes a loss instead of a gain to the nation, 
 he is guilty of a malversation for which he 
 must answer to the Judge of all the earth, and 
 of a wrong to society for which society may 
 call him to account. Rights are balanced by 
 duties ; they cease, in moral equity at least, to 
 be rights when the duties are neglected, and 
 beyond a certain point — that at which flagrant 
 derelictions and injustices can be proved — the 
 nation, through its executive, the State, may 
 and should demand a reckoning. Parliament 
 has restricted the '' despotism " of the landlord, 
 
 ^ Social Statics, chap, ix. 
 
Ownership of Land. 241 
 
 so that his supposed rights may not interfere 
 with public utihties. 
 
 When we inquire into socialistic schemes as 
 to the land, we find a variety, even a conflict, 
 of ideas. Some would abolish both ownership 
 and occupation, and leave the cultivation of the 
 soil to local communes. Some would infeft all 
 citizens into occupation, and oblige the able- 
 bodied to work in the production of the fruits 
 of the earth. Some would parochialise all the 
 land of the nation, "so that there shall be no 
 more nor other landlords in the whole country 
 than the parishes, and each of them be sovereign 
 landlord in its own territory." ^ Some — and 
 these the theories which are in vogue — would 
 nationahse all the land and make the State the 
 sole landlord. From all such proposals the plan, 
 urged with great eloquence by Mr George, but 
 now discarded, differs, in that, whilst abolishing 
 individual ownership, it allowed individual occu- 
 pancy, and, in lieu of rent to the owner, it sub- 
 stituted the whole burden of taxation. His 
 ** simple yet sovereign remedy was to appro- 
 priate rent by taxation." ^ Diverse, however, as 
 the remedies for the alleged existing injustice 
 
 1 Lecture of Thomas Spence, with introduction by II. M. Ilynd- 
 man. London, 1882. 
 
 2 Progress and Poverty, p. 288, 
 
 Q 
 
242 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 are, the conception which underHes all is that 
 the land is " the inalienable birthright of every 
 person born on it," that of this birthright 
 millions are deprived, and that the land -laws 
 need to be thoroughly reformed in the interests 
 of the whole nation — the proprietor-class abol- 
 ished, rents in their present form swept away, 
 and all land worked on the principle of co- 
 operation, each worker receiving according to 
 his labour-time. 
 
 Now, behind all the inflated language of orator 
 and essayist in support of this thesis there is a 
 truth. Originally, and theoretically still, the 
 State — the tribe or nation in its official repre- 
 sentative — is the first owner of the land. In 
 earlier times, it gave estates to persons on con- 
 dition of the discharge of feudal offices and obli- 
 gations. When the offices and obligations ceased, 
 the estates remained. No one will assert that 
 ownership of land in this country is an ideal 
 system. But three positions may be maintained. 
 First, that there is no absolute injustice in the 
 confirmation by the State of the title of an indi- 
 vidual to reap the benefits of his expenditure and 
 diligence on a portion of the soil. All cannot 
 have an equal right to every portion of the land ; 
 there must be limitation, and the limitation pro- 
 tected by law is really property. Second, that 
 
The Distribution of the Soil. 243 
 
 this limitation or individualising:^ of property is, 
 and has always been, an accompaniment of civil- 
 isation. In the far past, there was a collective 
 ownership, and the soil was poorly cultivated. 
 The expansion of agriculture was introduced by 
 allocations of land to individuals, giving them 
 scope for energy and enterprise. And, third, tliat 
 with reference to the existing order, the ramifica- 
 tions of property are so wide and intricate, social 
 life is in so many ways mixed up with it, it touches 
 such a variety of interests at so many points, that 
 wise men cannot but shrink from such drastic 
 measures as socialism proposes. There are other 
 processes which may be trusted for the rectifica- 
 tion of much that is socially hurtful. The legal 
 transference of land has been greatly facilitated ; 
 the effect of primogeniture has been greatly modi- 
 fied; and last, not least, the accumulation of 
 burdens on estates whose reduced rentals cannot 
 bear it, the pressures of population making the 
 breaking up of parks, poHcies, and estates both 
 profitable for the owner and necessary for the 
 community, — these drifts and tendencies are, 
 with ever - accelerating speed, distributing the 
 possession of the soil over widening areas of 
 population. It is better, surely, to rely on an 
 inevitable development of influences actively at 
 work, than to contemplate spoliations which can 
 
244 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 be made effectual only through fierce conflict 
 and social revolution. 
 
 Many theories that catch the ear of multitudes 
 break down when their practicability is considered. 
 It is so with socialistic theories as to the national- 
 isation of land. To begin with, the soil represents 
 only a limited territory, and, however greatly they 
 may be increased, limited capacities of production. 
 The arable acreage is constantly shrinking in ex- 
 tent, in consequence of the growth and diffusion 
 of the urban population, and the spread of indus- 
 tries of many kinds. Allowing for the utilisation 
 of policies around castles and mansions, and of 
 deer-forests (many of which must always remain 
 barren), there is not, and cannot be, a competence 
 of support for more than fractions of the landless 
 millions. Then, to provide for these fractions, 
 how is the State or the local community to 
 acquire the land ? Are the individual owners 
 to receive compensation, or are their estates to 
 be confiscated ? Dr Schaffle would compensate, 
 but the compensation must be in the form of con- 
 sumable goods, bestowed for a period longer or 
 shorter.^ What goods ? In what proportion to 
 land-values ? If a fair price in current money 
 may be given, how enormous would be the 
 amount required ! In order to pay the debt 
 
 ^ Quintessence of Socialism, p. 32. 
 
How is Value of Land to be Realised? 245 
 
 thus contracted, to meet taxation, cost of culti- 
 vation, superintendence, &c., what vast sums 
 would require to be raised ! The burden would 
 be heavier than any existing rents. But it is con- 
 fiscation, not compensation or purchase, that is 
 aimed at. J. S. Mill proposed that only *' the 
 portion of the future increase of rent not due to 
 the expenditure of labour and capital on the soil 
 should be intercepted." ^ This will not satisfy. 
 The landlord is to be expropriated. The social- 
 ised State is to take the rent, the whole rent, the 
 land and all its value. And, in doing so, the claim 
 is that there is no robbery of persons, that the 
 nation is only reclaiming its own for national use. 
 How, finally, is the omnipotent State to distribute 
 the wealth in land so that by labour it may be 
 realised ? It cannot give new possessions ; it 
 cannot allow any one to say of even a few acres, 
 '* These are mine " ; for, small landlordisms as well 
 as great are an offence against the fundamental 
 principle. Are there to be farms, and these to be 
 let by auction as some suggest ? But this means 
 competition, and competition is to be eliminated. 
 Is the farming to be conducted in the name of the 
 community — overseers, book - keepers, stewards, 
 and others necessary to the carrying on of busi- 
 ness to be remunerated out of the gains ? But 
 
 1 Quoted in ' Conlcmporary Socialism,' p. 491. 
 
246 Pre sent- Day Problems, 
 
 what, then, of the right of the labourer to the 
 whole of his produce ? According to any method, 
 the practical difficulties are formidable ; and, 
 whatever the method that may be adopted, a 
 huge State machinery is necessitated, offering 
 huge opportunities for all the evils of a wide- 
 spread officialism. Joseph, we are told, bought 
 up the soil of Egypt for Pharaoh, so that the 
 people were reduced to a state of servitude. If 
 the socialist programme could be carried out, 
 is it not possible that a Pharaoh might be sum- 
 moned into existence, all the more oppressive 
 because the despotism is that of democracy? 
 
 III. 
 
 It is with capital — meaning by this the wealth 
 that is bestowed on production, as distinguished 
 from that which is spent on consumable goods 
 or on self — that the quarrel of the socialist is 
 most intense. He is the champion of labour 
 as against capital. That there should be an 
 against, that there should be antagonism between 
 the two economic factors, each of which is 
 essential to the other, is to be deeply deplored. 
 Many who cannot accept the positions of social- 
 ism recognise in the socialistic trend of feeling 
 
Capitalists, 247 
 
 a revolt against the selfishness that capitalists 
 have too often manifested. But reason must 
 keep a naturally aroused protest in hand, and 
 some reflections bid us think, not once or 
 tw^ice but oftener still, before we commit our- 
 selves to the extreme views that are persistently 
 advocated. 
 
 In the first place, there are capitalists and 
 capitalists. If cases of heartless indifference to 
 ** hands " can be cited, other instances of just 
 dealing, of actions that prove a genuine desire 
 to promote the wellbeing of workmen and their 
 families, can also be cited. Under any system, 
 however perfect, there will be grasping and greed. 
 Is it supposed that these will disappear in the 
 working-class State? Some who are always 
 beholding and denouncing the mote in the 
 capitalist's eye may well ask if there is no 
 beam in their own eye. 
 
 Further, all capitalists are not millionaires. 
 The catch -cry of demagogues is that society 
 consists of a few millionaires and a multitude 
 of beggars.^ There are too many beggars; but 
 will any sane person, looking around, maintain 
 that, apart from those who have great wealth, 
 the noticeable thing is beggary ? There are 
 millionaires; possibly— few though they may be 
 
 ^ So Marx in his * Das Kapiial.' 
 
248 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 relatively — there are too many. But, as com- 
 pared with the mass of capitalists, they form a 
 very small percentage. They are on the highest 
 summits of an indefinitely graded system, sum- 
 mits which, for the most part, they gained, not 
 by mere luck, but by the strenuous application 
 of remarkable powers, illustrating in a conspicu- 
 ous manner the qualities that can ensure com- 
 petencies for many of all sorts and conditions. 
 But every person who has any money, however 
 small the sum, which he invests in, or utilises 
 for, business; the smallest master — the one, say, 
 who can buy some tools and leather and cobble 
 shoes in his own house, or the jobbing gardener 
 who buys his hoe and rake and barrows that he 
 may dress gardens, or the widow who invests in 
 some toys and confections with a view to sale — is 
 a capitalist. The possibility of using the little as 
 well as the much for production, and the freedom 
 to develop all the ingenuity and improve all the 
 opportunity of the individual, have been hitherto 
 accepted as among the things to be contemplated 
 towards the promotion of the greater happiness 
 of the greater number. 
 
 Increase of opportunity for the labourer is the 
 desideratum. An exploited person is one who 
 works for an end in whose good he has no part. 
 The exploitation of the worker is reduced in the 
 
Shares in Business Profits. 249 
 
 measure in which faciHties are provided for giving 
 him a share beyond the mere Hving wage in the 
 fruits of production, and associating him with the 
 business which he serves. Undoubtedly, there are 
 difficulties in the way of realising such facilities. 
 Payment of labour by means of shares that shall 
 represent the value of the labour, with a percent- 
 age proportioned to personal merit and to the 
 success of the firm, is advocated by many who 
 do not accept the socialists' platform. And there 
 is much to be said in its favour. It has been 
 to some extent tried and not found wanting in 
 America. Bonuses, regulated in amount by the 
 prosperity of the trade, by the output and profit 
 of the works, have been set apart for the labourer, 
 making him thus a partner in the prosperity. It 
 should not pass the wit of man to discover methods 
 by which this system might be extended. Still, it 
 must be recollected that there are fluctuations in 
 every department of production ; there are acute 
 crises; there are years in which an industry is 
 carried on at a loss, instead of a gain. It is 
 only the command of money that in these cir- 
 cumstances enables the capitalist to keep his 
 machinery in operation, and to wait in the hope of 
 a brighter day. The worker who has no money 
 cannot afford to wait. The fair day's wage is 
 his security, and the expectation of percentages, 
 
250 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 in addition to the wage, might give rise to press- 
 ures and frictions that would be disastrous in 
 periods when trade was depressed and profits 
 were nil. 
 
 What is needed above all things is straight 
 open dealing between master and men. It is 
 the want of this frankness that has been the 
 occasion of much of the heart-burning that feeds 
 socialistic agitation. In seasons of brisk and 
 profitable trade, employers have not, in advance 
 of all solicitation, taken the labourer into account 
 and accorded him a larger measure of good as his 
 due. Business, we are told, is business ; the law 
 of supply and demand, in wages as in all com- 
 modities, works automatically, and there must be 
 no interference with it. But, to distribute the 
 wealth which great turns-over secure, so that 
 all may have a portion, is no interference with 
 this law ; it only marks obedience to the law 
 which should be supreme in a Christian com- 
 munity — the law of justice. *' As ye would 
 that men should do to you do ye also to them 
 likewise." 
 
 The rapid development of industries has new- 
 made the conditions of social life, and has intro- 
 duced features that are changing the relations 
 between the chiefs and the rank and file of the 
 industrial army. The personal element is a 
 
Eliminatio)i oj the Personal Eloiicnt. 2 5 i 
 
 diminishing quantity. Formerly, the chiefs were 
 individuals by whose direct initiative and under 
 whose immediate control all was begun, con- 
 tinued, and ended, and who, when they were 
 high-minded and generous, took an interest in 
 their workers and their families, and recognised 
 their responsibility for the good of their people. 
 This is disappearing. Firms are converted into 
 trusts or limited liability companies ; syndicates 
 rule markets; and trusts, companies, syndicates, 
 as such, have no conscience, sympathy, or re- 
 sponsibility. All with which they intromit 
 relates to business alone. The human is sacri- 
 ficed to the commercial. In the factory or 
 workshop, there is the boss, and there is the 
 hand ; in the counting - house there is the 
 manager or director. And one result of the 
 trades-union is a further elimination of the per- 
 sonal. Wages are fixed by collective rather 
 than individual contract. The union prescribes 
 the number of apprentices, marks off the 
 domain within which its members must work 
 and the amount of work to be done ; in various 
 ways limiting production. It has as its last 
 word the strike; and, consequent on the strike, 
 the picketing and boycotting of non-union men. 
 Economists assert that, in its action and in its 
 results, the union is mischievous. We do not 
 
252 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 need to discuss the matter, for, the union is ; 
 and it has come to stay. Whether or not it 
 prevents the easy adjustment of the balance of 
 supply and demand, it has, beyond doubt, materi- 
 ally altered the industrial situation. Two things 
 only may be urged. The one is, that if it 
 would enlist the full sympathy and gain the 
 full confidence of the community, it must not 
 cross the frontier between a compact discipline 
 and a tyranny of terror. And the other is, that 
 whilst class unions may be needful, the aim of 
 both employers and employed should be to 
 avert conflict by taking occasion by the hand. 
 The deplorable, disastrous, strike should be all 
 but impossible. Surely there is a more excellent 
 way of arbitration, in the event of dispute or 
 misunderstanding, by which causes of antagon- 
 ism may be removed. 
 
 But there is only one way, the socialist in- 
 terjects. The evils of capitalism, whether its 
 representatives be the individual plutocrat or 
 the trust, cannot be mended. The only cure 
 is to end the capitalist. The capital means 
 rent, interest, or usury, and these are banned. 
 The capitalist, above all things, means com- 
 petition, and competition is stigmatised as 
 "one of the curses of civilisation which must 
 
Sjibstittites for Compcfifion. 
 
 2S 
 
 ^6 
 
 be got rid of before substantial progress is 
 possible." ^ 
 
 What, then, is to be substituted for this curse 
 of civilisation, which is inseparable from cap- 
 italism ? and how is the substitute to be made 
 effective as a remedy for existing miseries and 
 injustices ? 
 
 Emulation is presented as the substitute. In 
 the words of Professor Lodge, emulation is " the 
 aspiration of a soldier to lead a forlorn-hope, the 
 desire of a student to make a discovery, the 
 ambition of a merchant to develop a new 
 country or establish a new route. Competition 
 is the snarling of dogs over the same bone. 
 Emulation is the desire to do a thing better 
 than it has been done by others. Competition 
 is the desire to do instead of others that which 
 is equally well done by them."^ There is 
 much that appeals to soul and conscience in 
 this contrast. The constant struggle of one 
 man to outbid another is tiresome, often re- 
 volting. It is responsible for wares *' cheap 
 and nasty," for tricks and dishonesties in trade, 
 for lying advertisements, for sweaters' dens, for 
 scamped work. It thrusts the old aside and 
 ruthlessly bids the more unfit drop behind. It 
 
 ^ Liverpool Fabian Tracts, No. 3 - IMil. 
 
2 54 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 tends '*to divert energies into useless channels 
 and to degrade the character, while for the un- 
 successful it makes life impossible, and for the 
 average man it makes life a severe strain."^ 
 To displace this hydra by a nobler spring of 
 action is a worthy aim. 
 
 But we must be sure of our ground ; we must 
 look at human nature as it is, and at the facts 
 of life as they are. The picture of Professor 
 Lodge is too roseate. The line between emula- 
 tion and competition is a thin line. Emulation 
 denotes the heroic; but the heroic is far from 
 being prevalent. Soldiers do aspire to lead 
 forlorn-hopes, but all soldiers do not ; and the 
 average soldier, whilst doing his duty, is not 
 insensible to personal distinctions. Students do 
 desire to make discoveries for the promotion of 
 science and the good of humanity; but the 
 average student is by no means indifferent to 
 success in the prizes of the career he has 
 selected. Merchants have occasionally the am- 
 bition to develop a new country or establish 
 a new route, but the average merchant con- 
 templates a market for goods and a personal 
 gain. The feathers of emulation may be of 
 yellow gold, but they are always dipping into 
 the pots of competition. For, indeed, self-love 
 
 ^ Liverpool Fabian Tracts, No. 3. 
 
Co-operation. 255 
 
 is a strong and persistent force in the nature 
 of man. The altruism which denies and re- 
 presses it, marks an effort to 
 
 " wind ourselves too high 
 For mortal man beneath the sky." 
 
 Self-love cannot, and should not, be scouted as 
 if it were an unclean thing. It should be con- 
 trolled and balanced by an unselfish love — the 
 love of the neighbour as the love of the self. 
 No matter what the circumstances may be, the 
 danger of self-pushing — in other words, of com- 
 petition — will appear. Is it to be supposed 
 that there would be no pushing, no competi- 
 tion, in a working-class State and community ? 
 The old Adam will prove too strong for any 
 young Melanchthon. 
 
 There is no good around which evils do not 
 grow. We must set the good against the evils, 
 and, in following the one, take the risk of the 
 others. Liberty, scope for individual energy, 
 is a good not to be bartered away for a uni- 
 versal servitude. We must look to pressures 
 of public sentiment, to the spread of enlighten- 
 ment, to better organisation, to the power of 
 religion, to detach labour from the excesses and 
 extravagances of unhealthy competitions. 
 
 Now, the method by which it is proposed to 
 
256 Present 'Day P^'oblems. 
 
 give effect to the emulative rather than the com- 
 petitive element is co-operation ; and this is a 
 word which signifies a great Christian principle. 
 
 We have seen that on this principle the Church 
 of Christ is built up. That we are members one 
 of another, that each member is bound to care 
 for the others, that the social organism is in its 
 entirety to minister to every constituent, and that 
 every constituent is to supply vital force to the 
 organism, are postulates of Christianity. There 
 is, therefore, a welcome waiting for the exten- 
 sion of the idea of co-operation — an idea with 
 which is connected the harmonious development 
 of happy and healthy life. 
 
 Social co-operation has two sides — production 
 and distribution. The data relating to the one 
 side are not sufficient to warrant generalisations ; 
 for, whilst experiments — some successful and some 
 unsuccessful — have been made, they have been 
 as yet on a very limited scale. But, in distribu- 
 tion, the success has been conspicuous. In 1862, 
 the sales of co-operative societies in the United 
 Kingdom did not amount to two and a half 
 millions sterling ; in 1900, they amounted to more 
 than seventy - seven millions sterling, and the 
 profits, by which nearly two millions of members 
 were benefited, were between eight and nine 
 
Co-operative Societies. 257 
 
 millions sterling.^ Here there is *' an automatic 
 system of self-help" which commends itself to 
 the favour of all who desire to uplift the poor 
 and oppressed. Let it be remembered that the 
 results recorded have been accomplished by vol- 
 untary effort. The societies have won their 
 victory by competition, by the f^ood work they 
 have done, by the good commodities which they 
 have sold, by the steady growth of confidence 
 in their objects and in their management. Their 
 expansion illustrates the possibilities of a vigorous 
 social collectivism, which, without attempting to 
 repress competition, offers a higher mark and 
 level, and, through the development of opinion 
 
 ^ The report submitted to the Co-operative Congress at Middle- 
 borough on May 27 is most satisfactory, as is evident from the 
 figures presented. In 1899 the number of members in Great Britain 
 and Ireland was 1,729,976 ; in 1900 it was 1,827,653. In the 
 'Spectator' of June i it is said: "A satisfactory state of affairs 
 prevails in the productive societies, though room for expansion 
 exists in this department. The report on co-operative agriculture 
 is less satisfactory, as, from various causes, the agriculturists of the 
 country seem to be much slower to recognise the benefits of co- 
 operative action than are those in Ireland. The figures with regard 
 to co-operative credit banks, again, show that Ireland leads the way 
 with a membership of 2943 and a capital of £^(>'](), as against a 
 membership of 1330 and a capital of ;i^4859 for England and Scot- 
 land combined. It is stated, however, that the benefits of these 
 banks, the members of which are working men and women of 
 various occupations, are now being more and more appreciated." 
 
 R 
 
258 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 in regard to it, and of facilities for realising it, 
 restrains the excesses of the competing spirit 
 within the channels of a healthy energy. 
 
 But socialism looks to co-operation, not as a 
 rule voluntarily accepted and supported by the 
 choice of free men, but as the compulsory method 
 by which all labour is to be done, and all gain 
 for the State and the individual unit is to be 
 reaped. It is the agency of the one capitalist, 
 the State, in all kinds of production — mills, 
 factories, foundries, ironworks, coal-mines, &c. 
 All instruments, tools, machinery, are to be the 
 property of the collective capitalist, which shall 
 divide to every man according as he labours. 
 None are to compete, all are to serve. None 
 are to be waged ; for, wages imply contracts for 
 labour, and such contracts are to be abolished. 
 Each is to have what is allotted to him as the 
 value of his produce. " Compulsory minima " 
 may be supplemented by " honorific induce- 
 ments," but any wealth granted must be spent 
 only on consumable things. Is it too much to 
 affirm that the scheme carried consistently out 
 to its utmost limits is impossible ? If it were 
 possible, the experience of great systems which 
 are monopolies suggests that there would be a 
 lack in initiative, in readiness to adopt improve- 
 ments involving departures from rules and ways 
 
Social Values. 259 
 
 that have been fixed. To all State action a " cir- 
 cumlocution office" is attached, and, in every de- 
 partment, workers accustomed to arrangements 
 with which they are familiar might interpose 
 obstacles to new modes and machineries ; and 
 would they not have a right to do so ? How are 
 social labours and values to be estimated ? Dr 
 Schaffle pertinently asks, " Whether the common 
 wealth of the socialists would be able to cope 
 with the enormous socialistic book-keeping, and 
 to estimate correctly heterogeneous labour accord- 
 ing to socialistic units of labour-time?"^ And, 
 after all, a civilisation, such as that of the twen- 
 tieth century, has a wealth and a variety of which 
 socialism takes little account, and which a pro- 
 letariat State, with a vulture-like eye to material 
 good, might omit from its purview, "reducing 
 the colours of life in number and robbing them 
 of their vividness." It is said that new forces 
 will be called out and new potencies will be 
 operative. Some, in their scepticism, may be 
 disposed to return Hotspur's answer to the boast 
 of Glendower — 
 
 " ' I can call spirits from the vasty deep.' 
 * Why, so can I, or so can any man ; 
 But will they come when you do call for them ?'" 
 
 ^ Quintessence, p. 70. 
 
26o 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MORAL AND RELIGIOUS ASPECTS OF SOCIALISM. 
 
 The criticism to which the previous chapter was 
 devoted indicates the grounds on which assent is 
 withheld from the economic positions of sociaHsm. 
 The judgment condemns these as unsound and im- 
 practicable, even though the mind is sympathetic 
 with the endeavour to elevate the permanent con- 
 ditions of the toiling masses, and though it recog- 
 nises many elements of truth in the ideal of society 
 and of the State. But from the Christian stand- 
 point the outlook is wider than that of economics. 
 The contention of some is, that the question at issue 
 should not be complicated by a reference to moral 
 and religious interests, that the purview of social- 
 ism does not extend beyond the range of politics, 
 and that only as a social-political system should 
 it be considered and tested. This contention will 
 not hold. The political and the ethical cannot 
 be put asunder. Any and every constitution of 
 
Soc ia lis tic Propaga nda. 261 
 
 society must affect the character of those whom 
 it includes ; it must influence the *' conduct, which 
 is three-fourths of Hfe." To say of a social adjust- 
 ment that it is non-moral, is to condemn it as anti- 
 moral. Moreover, the claim of the socialist is 
 that the polity which he proposes is his morality.^ 
 He professes to find in it all that enters into the 
 content of justice, of righteousness, of the brother- 
 hood of men, and all that is efficient in the way of 
 motive. It is, therefore, strictly relevant to the 
 matter in hand, as it is necessary to the determin- 
 ation of the attitude and duty of the Church, to 
 consider the consequences of the persistent social- 
 istic propagandism by which we are confronted, 
 and the moral and religious bearing of the theories 
 which this propagandism emphasises as the only 
 solution of the problems of poverty and labour. 
 
 None can be conversant with the feeling which 
 is reflected in papers, tracts, and treatises that are 
 largely circulated, and none can mingle, with some 
 freedom, among the working classes in our cities 
 without observing, within the last twenty-five years, 
 an increasing, a more openly expressed, spirit of 
 discontent. Take up "a new age" journal, or 
 
 1 "The polity of the socialist is his morality, and his reasoned 
 morality may, in the old sense of the word, be termed his religion." 
 —The Ethic of Free Thought, p. 319. 
 
262 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 listen to the conversation or the oratory of those 
 whom such a journal represents. The reiteration 
 is, of wrongs inflicted by capital and capitalists ; 
 of injustices of taxation, rent, administration ; of 
 rotten conditions to which are due the poverty, 
 the exploitation of the many and the enrichment 
 of the few ; of long labour-time and hard labour- 
 lot ; of the heartlessness of the rich, the pride of 
 the privileged, the worldliness of Churches and of 
 clergy; of the need of revolution to set things right 
 and to enforce the demands of the labourer ; of the 
 golden time that will come when the transforma- 
 tions, the expropriations, and the appropriations 
 of socialism are realised. Sometimes the language 
 is that of thoughtfulness and earnestness ; some- 
 times it is that which, without reflection, repeats 
 catch-words learned at second-hand ; sometimes it 
 is that of the frivolous, if not the corrupt, mind : 
 but it passes to and fro, and produces stir, fer- 
 ment, bitterness of feeling. It may be said that 
 this is true of only a fraction of the labouring 
 class, or of any class. Perhaps so ; but the frac- 
 tion is neither inconsiderable nor uninfluential. 
 It is larger than many suppose. It has always 
 some facts by which to support its assertions. 
 It possesses the faculty of diffusion which attaches 
 to strong opinions strongly uttered. 
 
Infltience of Continental Opinion. 263 
 
 A contributory cause, and a conspicuous ele- 
 ment, of this disaffection may be noticed. 
 
 Socialism has an international propaganda. Its 
 boast is that it is emancipated from the limita- 
 tions of country, that its cause is the common 
 cause of the proletariat everywhere. Through its 
 clubs, its associations, and its publications ; by 
 means of the focussing of all shades of opinion in 
 London — the aroma of Continental and American 
 sentiment is communicated to the agitation in 
 Great Britain. Now, though the extreme views 
 advocated elsewhere have no vogue in this 
 country, a certain influence is communicated 
 through them. The anarchism which is in evi- 
 dence in Germany has not many avowed sup- 
 porters, but thought is coloured by the idea of 
 anarchy, as interpreted by Proudhon in the sen- 
 tences, "That the political function be reabsorbed 
 in the industrial. Thus social order will ensue 
 spontaneously out of the simple operation of 
 transactions and exchanges. Every man might 
 then be called autocrat of himself, which is the 
 extreme reverse of monarchical absolutism." ^ 
 Michael Bakunin is not the leader of any com- 
 pany of British sociaHsts. His proclamation of 
 "war to the death against all existing society, so 
 
 1 Die Prix Frederatif, p. 29. 
 
264 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 that the revolutionist must be prepared to die, to 
 kill with his own hands all who obstruct the 
 revolution,"^ would be repudiated, except by a 
 very few, whose reception of the fierce saying 
 makes them the most dangerous of the dangerous 
 class. But his " running amuck against all ac- 
 cepted principles in religion, in politics, in domes- 
 tic and social life,"^ is at least faintly shadowed 
 in the tones of many. The American socialist, 
 who would regulate, not merely the production 
 and distribution of wealth, but even the consump- 
 tion of goods,^ goes further than his brethren 
 on this side of the Atlantic would allow, but, in 
 some demands which are formulated as to the 
 absorption of all private property in a common 
 good, affinity is joined with him. Thus, though 
 the crystallised view of extremists is disavowed, a 
 virus is insinuated into the talk of societies and 
 the representations of current literature, and the 
 vat is kept in ferment. 
 
 But the discontent alluded to is largely fed 
 by that passion for equality which, as De 
 Tocqueville has remarked, is the passion of 
 democracies. Equality of condition, equality of 
 opportunity; none above and none below; all 
 
 1 Quoted in ' Contemporary Socialism,' p. 275. 
 '■^ Contemporary Socialism, p. 267. 
 '^ Parsons of Chicago. 
 
Equality. 265 
 
 masters, no servants ; none with a more favour- 
 able start or stadium than others— such is the 
 vision by which the imagination is dazzled, and 
 both enthusiastic and despondent spirits in this 
 social era hail it. They hail what cannot be. 
 ** Nature," says Renan, " is injustice itself," ^ in- 
 asmuch as it teems with inequalities. It is a 
 mere commonplace to say that the equality 
 craved is an idle dream, so long as there are 
 differences in capacity, in gifts, in aptitudes 
 physical, mental, and moral. All that can be 
 done is to secure that every one shall have the 
 best possible opportunity, that there shall be 
 no unnecessary clogs on energy, that there 
 shall be " a more effective participation of the 
 poor equally with the rich in the civilisation 
 which the increased productive resources of 
 society afford the means of enjoying." ^ But 
 when it is urged, as in the essays of socialists 
 it is urged, that "the State ought to make 
 use of its legitimate powers for the establish- 
 ment of the equality of conditions among men 
 according to their personal merit," ^ a task is 
 imposed on the State which it is unable to 
 fulfil. The standards— equality of condition and 
 
 ^ Quoted by M. de Laveleye in ' Contemporary Review.' 
 
 2 Professor Wagner, Art. " Finan-Politik und Staat sozialismus." 
 
 3 M. de Laveleye in •Contemporary Review.' 
 
266 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 personal merit — are inconsistent ; even if they 
 were harmonious, '* it would be beyond the 
 power of the State to realise them for want 
 of an effective calculus of either." ^ To inflame 
 unreflective minds by holding up prospects 
 which are mere chimeras, and inducing the 
 feeling that they are defrauded of some rights 
 because of a failure to apply the powers of the 
 State on their behalf — that the plu^ which others 
 have is the reason of their ntimis, and that this 
 plus should be taken away — is to appeal to 
 what is meanest in human nature, uselessly to 
 embitter feeling, and to divert the attention 
 from the possibilities of improvement which are 
 within the reach of all who apply their best 
 energy in making the most of the situations 
 that open to them. 
 
 We speak of a " divine discontent " ; and the 
 hunger and thirst for righteousness, the refusal 
 to allow that the soul has ever attained to the 
 full truth of its life and the eager pressing on- 
 ward and upward, may be so termed. A certain 
 discontent is caused by the advance of civilisa- 
 tion, and is itself a cause of further advance. 
 In the measure in which standards of wellbeing 
 are heightened, wants multiply, new needs are 
 created, new ambitions are developed; and to 
 
 ^ Contemporary Socialism, p. 385. 
 
Social Discontent, 267 
 
 satisfy these, to realise "life more and fuller," is 
 an incitement to progress. But there is a right 
 and there is a wrong discontent : right, when 
 the desire to be is superior to the mere desire 
 to have, when the mind does not confuse the 
 conditions of happiness with happiness, and 
 understands that the secret of felicity is the 
 better man rather than the better circumstance ; 
 when to be true to oneself and to gain the full 
 advantage of all the good that lies in the actual 
 position, is more than a mere craving to get 
 some good that another has, or that lies out- 
 with the sphere of the practicable. There is 
 too little of this right sort ; there is too much 
 of the wrong — that which is closely akin to 
 covetousness — in all circles and classes. But 
 there are elements which give a peculiar as- 
 perity to the merely covetous instinct when it 
 is sharpened by invectives against society in 
 general, and especially against those who are 
 represented as neither toiHng nor spinning. By 
 all means denounce the idle rich as well as 
 the idle poor. By all means insist that the 
 only privilege shall be that which consists with 
 useful service, and that all, in consideration of 
 what they receive through the corporate life of 
 the nation, shall contribute by honest work to 
 the commonwealth. But, to indulge in indis- 
 
268 Present- Day Probleins, 
 
 criminate diatribes against those whose share 
 of the world's good is larger than that of some ; 
 to be for ever inveighing against existing con- 
 stitutions, and stirring up strife and envy by 
 dwelling on the rights of which capital and 
 privilege defraud the labourer, to the exclusion 
 of the duties that he owes to his world and 
 his God, and of the call to help himself and 
 utilise the sources and occasions of happiness 
 that lie to his hand, — is simply to rob the life 
 of its essential dignity and worth, and to 
 corrupt noble aspiration into an ignoble and 
 rankling covetousness. Cui bono ? Does the 
 nurture of this species of discontent tend to 
 quicken the impulses of benevolence ? Certainly 
 not. Does it tend to strengthen domestic and 
 family relations ? The writer has known many 
 who, under the spell of socialistic agitation, felt 
 the simplicities of home -life irksome, became 
 dissatisfied with all the surrounding, and ceased 
 to interest themselves in causes which they had 
 previously furthered. Does it give elevation to 
 the character? It robs the character of a 
 purifying idealism, hitherto one of the finest 
 features in the working classes of our country, 
 and narrows the vision of the life to a jealous 
 observation of, and fruitless sighing after, un- 
 attainable conditions '' of the earth, earthy." 
 
Moral Principles and Issues. 269 
 
 This is the manner, this is the result, of a dis- 
 content which spreads as sociahsm spreads, and 
 which, though now kept in subordination by 
 counteracting influences, has the potentiahty of 
 increasing from a disturbing element into the 
 wild fury of a hurricane. 
 
 But further ; in the consideration of a system 
 which is presented as the realisation of the social 
 ideal, one of the main interests to the mind, look- 
 ing on it in the light of Christian truth, must be 
 its relation to the moral law, to the principles 
 and issues on which the moral life of the people 
 is built. The subject thus suggested is so wide 
 that special topics must only be glanced at. 
 For example, family life. It would be unfair 
 to identify socialism as a political scheme with 
 the statements of its advocates. It is entirely 
 compatible with, and is often held along with, 
 strict views as to the foundation and the 
 responsibilities of the home. But the tend- 
 encies of the thought of its expositors need to 
 be watched. Thus, in an important work under 
 the joint authorship of the late Mr Morris and 
 Bax, it is said that, with the advent of social 
 economic freedom, '' no binding contract between 
 parties as regards livelihood would be necessary, 
 property in children would cease to exist, a new 
 
2 70 Present-Day Problems, 
 
 development of the family would take place, on 
 the basis not of a predetermined lifelong business 
 arrangement, to be formally and nominally held 
 to, irrespective of circumstances, but on mutual 
 inclination and affection, terminable at the will 
 of either party." ^ There can be no doubt that 
 this " new development " is contemplated by 
 some, and these not the least influential, of the 
 leaders of the " new society." And, in their plans 
 of education, such an assumption of responsibility 
 and provision for children is indicated as would 
 practically relieve parents of all but a mere frac- 
 tion of their responsibility.^ 
 
 But, without dwelling on particular points, it 
 may be asked whether, in respect both of what 
 it introduces into its moral features, and of what 
 it omits, it must not be held to be wanting. 
 
 It is a protest against selfishness — the selfish- 
 ness of capital. The charge that it levels 
 against the political economy which it would 
 supersede is that it ministers to selfishness in 
 its view of wealth, in its theory of barter, in its 
 aims and its canons. It condemns the existing 
 order as founded on and supported by selfishness 
 — that of competition, man against man. Its 
 lash is specially reserved for the capitalist — the 
 
 ^ Socialism, p. 299. 
 
 - E.g.. Fabian Society Tract on Education. 
 
A Form of Selfishness. 271 
 
 selfish thief who has stolen the surplus value of 
 the labourer. We have conceded that there are 
 circumstances which give an occasion for the 
 protest. It would be difficult to conceive of 
 any system — human nature being what it is — 
 which did not afford an occasion. But when 
 the socialist inveighs against society as unjust 
 and selfish, does he propose to overcome the 
 evil that is denounced with good ? Is he not 
 setting up another selfishness in opposition to 
 that which he arraigns ? In making the in- 
 terests of labour and of the labourer the one 
 point and goal ; in ignoring the elements that 
 minister to the higher taste and culture except 
 in so far as they can be harmonised with a 
 working-class standard of utilities ; in confining 
 all his perspectives within the range of a material 
 good and a material paradise, is he not evoking, 
 and providing nourishment for, a very intense 
 and de-toning selfishness ? 
 
 Socialism, again, holds aloft the banner of 
 brotherhood. Its altruism is that of a frater- 
 nity whose method is co-operation, whose noblesse 
 oblige is the sense of membership one in another. 
 This it learned of Christ ; and it is a reproach 
 to the Church which bears His name that the 
 practical applications of its Lord's new covenant 
 are often more striking in associations that con- 
 
272 Present- Day Problems, 
 
 nect only with the outer circle of Christianity 
 than they are within its gates. But when we 
 scan the socialistic fraternity, what do we see ? 
 It is a fraternity that is not based on the con- 
 sciousness of a higher relation — that of sonship 
 to God. Some socialists recognise this; but, in 
 being Christian socialists, they part from the body 
 of opinion which represents all that is most 
 active and influential. In its federation, there 
 is no reference to the authority and example of a 
 supreme love which " will endure when all that 
 seems shall suffer shock." It is essentially a class 
 brotherhood for the furtherance of class interests 
 and ends — interests and ends which, according to 
 its programme, can be secured only through ex- 
 propriations and confiscations that go perilously 
 near to the violation of the command, '*Thou 
 shalt not steal," and which, if secured by the 
 method proposed, would involve the drying up 
 of the springs of individual liberty and energy — 
 the triumph of a partial proletariat to-day, at the 
 cost of a universal proletariat to-morrow. The 
 notes of the old Bethlehem song are not heard 
 in it : " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth 
 peace, good-will toward men." 
 
 It is maintained that the aim of socialism is the 
 establishment of social righteousness ; and it would 
 be unjust to deny that this is within the view of 
 
An Omission. 273 
 
 its supporters. The objection taken is not to the 
 end intended; it is to the omission of an ante- 
 cedent condition which is essential to the attain- 
 ment of the end. That condition is personal 
 righteousness. According to Mr Karl Pearson, 
 the differentiation of socialism from other political 
 and social movements is that it identifies morality 
 with the polity which it presents.^ The seat 
 of morality is thus transferred to the system. 
 Righteousness consists in submitting to it and 
 in promoting it. But the oracle is silent on the 
 question, how the harmony between the individual 
 and this social happiness is to be effected. A man 
 is not a mere atom that can be fitted into a place. 
 He is a person with a free activity, with a will, 
 and with a force that may be anarchic ; one in 
 whom there is a conflict between inclinations, 
 between a law in his members and another and 
 higher law of his mind. He needs to be set 
 right, and no mere economic conditions can, 
 do this. Irruptions of passion ; the corrosive 
 power of selfishness ; the promptings of ambi- 
 tion, of greed, of a desire for mastery rather than 
 ministry ; the lust of the flesh, the lust of the 
 eye, and the pride of life ; tendencies to indolence 
 and indulgence, to weakness, wilfulness, wayward- 
 ness of temper, — these cannot be disregarded. 
 
 ^ Ut supra, The Ethics of Free Thought, p. 29, 
 S. 
 
2 74 Present- Day Probleriis. 
 
 They will interfere with the acceptance of the 
 most rational of ends ; they will break through the 
 most perfect of disciplines. How is the inward 
 adjustment to be realised ? Socialism has no 
 place for the word sin : alas ! human nature has. 
 The man and what he is in himself is not 
 a consideration secondary to and dependent on 
 that of his circumstances : it is the consider- 
 ation on which his true wellbeing depends. In 
 laying the whole stress on external conditions, 
 in making these the main cause and the chief 
 element of the earthly paradise, the system under 
 review is ethically imperfect, and is inadequate 
 to the purpose it contemplates — that of bringing 
 in a new era, " a new earth wherein dwelleth 
 righteousness." A regenerated society means 
 regenerated persons ; persons with a right spirit, 
 persons in whom there is a supreme power 
 making the life consistent by an effective moral 
 self-rule. And when this is belittled, the goal 
 that is interpreted by an eloquent socialistic 
 writer as " the perfecting of human nature in 
 the whole hierarchy of functions, headed by the 
 moral ones " ^ is certainly missed. 
 
 When its ethic is unsatisfactory, it is not 
 
 ^ Thomas Davidson, The Moral Aspects of the Economic 
 Question, p. ii. 
 
Hostility to the Church. 275 
 
 to be wondered at that, in the advocacy of 
 socialism, an attitude of indifference, frequently 
 of hostility, to the worship and ministry of the 
 Church is developed. Not that this is true of 
 all socialists ; for, there are many such who are 
 at the same time devout and earnest Christians, 
 and there are others whose aversion is not to 
 the Christian faith, which they sincerely hold, 
 with reservations and interpretations at variance 
 with orthodox standards, but to the existing 
 constitutions and to the spirit and practice of 
 the Churches. This latter class of socialists 
 forms a kind of intermediary element between 
 the Church and — as it must with sorrow be 
 affirmed — the dominant tone and bearing of 
 socialism. Who that has read both its more 
 permanent and its more ephemeral expositions, 
 and that has heard the talk and speeches of 
 its adherents, is not familiar with invectives 
 against the clergy, against the Church as the 
 " peculiar " of the bourgeoisie and capitalist, as 
 out of sympathy with the labourer and the 
 struggle in behalf of labour, as toadying to the 
 rich and despising the poor, as a miserable 
 siimdacrum of the religion which it neither 
 apprehends nor teaches, and so forth. Now, 
 whilst assuredly the Church is not free from 
 blame ; whilst, in its arrangements for worship. 
 
276 Pre sent -Day Problems. 
 
 a pretext may be found for the charge that its 
 sanctuaries are meant for those who can pay ; 
 whilst the rich transgressor is sometimes shielded 
 by the Church to which he is a liberal con- 
 tributor; whilst ministers of religion have not 
 realised the rapport they might have realised 
 with social wants and aspirations ; whilst all 
 this and more may be granted, the root of the 
 antipathy referred to is deeper than any ob- 
 jection that may be taken to the necessary 
 imperfections of an ecclesiastical organisation. 
 The root is a radical divergence from the re- 
 ligious ideal. Sometimes the cry is wild and 
 fierce. " Our enemy," a congress at Geneva 
 proclaimed, "is every abstract authority, whether 
 called devil or good God, in the name of which 
 priests have so long governed good souls." But, 
 even when the voice is more subdued, there is 
 no transcendency or spirituality in it. Herzen, 
 who was associated with Bakunin in the con- 
 solidation of Russian nihilism, but who after- 
 wards separated himself from the revolutionary 
 party which he had helped to form, spoke of 
 socialism *' as the new terrestrial religion in 
 which there is to be neither God nor heaven." ^ 
 And the whole effect of the philosophy which it 
 inculcates is to eliminate the eternal and the 
 
 ^ Contemporary Socialism, p, 261, 
 
Earthliness in Prospect. 277 
 
 spiritual. There is no need of a Saviour from 
 sin; for, sin is not in its thought. The other 
 world with what it calls *'its stage properties" 
 has no place whatever. It is entirely terrestrial. 
 In the words of Professor Flint, " Even when it 
 does not expressly deny the fundamental con- 
 victions on which Christianity rests, it ignores 
 them. It leaves out of account God and 
 divine law, sees in morality simply a means to 
 generate happiness, and recognises no properly 
 spiritual and eternal Hfe. It conceives of the 
 whole duty of mankind as consisting in the 
 pursuit and production of social enjoyment. 
 Hence its ideal of the highest good, and con- 
 sequently of human conduct, is essentially 
 different from the Christian ideal, and thus it 
 necessarily comes into direct conflict with 
 Christianity."^ 
 
 This earthliness in prospect, aim, and motive 
 is infecting the life of the working classes in 
 our country, and indeed is infecting the life of 
 all classes. It is the cause underlying much 
 of the alienation from social Christian worship 
 that prevails. What can this worship mean 
 to those whose whole interest is narrowed by 
 the vision of a mere earthly paradise, and to 
 whom the terms God, Christ, immortality, life 
 
 ^ Socialism, p. 461. 
 
278 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 everlasting, contain no reality ? In working- 
 class centres, labour -churches are offered as a 
 substitute for the churches which are de- 
 nounced; and in these assemblies the ''ter- 
 restrial religion," in the form of addresses on 
 the rights of labour and the wrongs of the 
 labourer, and on the principles and methods 
 of the new economy, is preached. The evil 
 charged against the Church of being a class 
 assembly is presented in another form. It is 
 the class interest, it is the controversy with 
 society, it is the propagation of a certain type 
 of opinion, that predominates. And, without as 
 well as within the Sunday assembly, in the 
 socialism of the chair and in that of the street, 
 this type is in evidence. 
 
 The bearing and the duty of the Christian 
 Church towards the socialism that has been 
 reviewed is one of the most serious questions 
 that we are bound to face. To some extent, 
 as we have seen, there is an opposition between 
 ideals, and this represents a divergence in spirit 
 and in purpose, the widening of which would be 
 disastrous to society. What needs to be demon- 
 strated is that, on the one hand, the rejection 
 of the spiritual aspect of life is an untruth to 
 the conception of life as a whole, and that, on 
 
Christian Attitudes, 279 
 
 the other hand, Christianity, in emphasising the 
 spiritual, does not the less, but all the more, 
 seek to promote all that contributes to social 
 betterment. Paradises may be left out of ac- 
 count. The aim of the religion of Christ is to 
 make the human life that is, more blessed and 
 less accursed, fuller, richer, more distinctly in 
 sight at once of all that it can be here, and of 
 that vision of God which is supreme and eternal 
 blessedness. How to prove this — how to incor- 
 porate the permanent truth of the system or 
 systems whose features have been scanned with 
 the practical religion of Jesus Christ, is the 
 matter as to which there is abundant occasion 
 for *'a spirit not of fear; but of power, and of 
 love, and of a sound mind." 
 
 Patience is required. The entrance of a great 
 idea, of a great regulative principle, into the living 
 thought of men is always marked by crude theor- 
 ising, by exaggerated assertion, by almost wild 
 rushes in directions to which the idea seems to 
 point. By-and-by, when theories are sifted and 
 the soundness of schemes is tested, there comes 
 that moderating influence which we call common- 
 sense (unless, indeed, by some foolish action a 
 catastrophe is precipitated). What is extreme is 
 discounted, and such parts of schemes as approve 
 themselves to reason are accepted and become 
 
28o Present- Day Proble77ts. 
 
 subservient to the common-weal. So it is at 
 present. In a law-abiding country such as ours, 
 with institutions that can be expanded and modi- 
 fied without the loss of historical continuity, we 
 may hope that the unattainable will gradually 
 fall out of view, and that a collectivism shall be 
 realised, which, without suppressing individual 
 freedom and energy, but rather stimulating and 
 guiding it, shall secure more effective legisla- 
 tion and larger benefits for the community. To 
 this end Christian citizenship should look and 
 strive. It should have an open mind in the 
 observation of every movement ; keenly scrutin- 
 ising all that seems at conflict with public and 
 personal morality, but sympathetic with every 
 wise endeavour to support the life of each part 
 by the corporate action of the body politic. 
 When we can work with others whose opinions 
 are more pronounced than the Christian con- 
 science can approve, for the furtherance of a 
 really beneficial result (assuming that they will 
 work with us), then let there be co-operation. 
 This, surely, is the commandment of the love of 
 man for Christ's sake. 
 
 Study of social life and social questions is 
 requisite. The Church's diagnosis of social needs 
 and evils may be faulty. It may be necessary, 
 in loyalty to the Lord and to the age that calls 
 
Christian Social Unions. 281 
 
 for service, to unlearn much, and to learn still 
 more. Christ's house is bound only to Him and 
 His supreme authority. It is not bound to any 
 political economy; it is not committed to any 
 form or method of government. In a lofty sense, 
 it is to be " all things to all men, that it may gain 
 some." If it would be faithful, it must wait on 
 its Lord, not in the sanctuary only, but in the 
 world into which it is sent, piercing beneath the 
 surface of things into the inner places of humanity, 
 into the submergencies of the population, into the 
 secrets of all its struggles, that it may recognise 
 the signal of His hand, that, through communion 
 with His mind, it may understand what He is 
 saying to it. In the Christian Social Unions of 
 England and Scotland, we can hail the token 
 of an increasing desire more thoroughly to reach 
 to the rock-beds of social topics, and to apply 
 the truths of Christ's teaching to them. These 
 unions have an important mission ; for, they may 
 remind all that Churches must, on the one hand, 
 guard against the dead-weight of worn-out con- 
 ventionalisms, of adherence to mere use and wont- 
 ness, and, on the other hand, against the adoption 
 of hasty and ill-considered views. Truth is our 
 aim. Forbid that, in the day in which we live, 
 the Church of the Lord should reproduce the 
 picture of the unready king. 
 
282 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 On special issues, such as *' the strikes " which 
 occasionally raise desolating storms in the in- 
 dustrial world, the individual citizen, be he clergy- 
 man or layman, is entitled to think and speak for 
 himself, though, if he is wise, he will be reticent 
 in speech ; but when the Church, in its unity, is 
 represented, the utmost caution should be exer- 
 cised. The late Bishop Westcott was a successful 
 mediator in a great strife in his diocese. But 
 he occupied an exceptionally high position : by 
 the width of his sympathies, the fulness of his 
 knowledge, and the soundness of his judgment, 
 he was trusted as few men can be trusted ; his 
 capacity for such mediation was almost unique. 
 Speaking generally, the plane of the Church's 
 action is one, by no means apart from, yet not 
 to be confused with, particular causes. It can 
 most influence when it speaks its own message, 
 and connects the facts and the developments of 
 human life with that message ; when, in the 
 power of the Holy Spirit, it takes of the things 
 of Christ and shows them in their relation to 
 present - day experiences and demands. The 
 fellowship for which it witnesses is the completing 
 truth of all social aspiration and effort. In the 
 latest work of the saintly bishop, to whom allu- 
 sion has just been made, are words which inter- 
 pret both the mission and the want of the 
 
The World-wide Fellowship of Men. 283 
 
 Church: *' In the half -blind strivings towards 
 a larger human communion we find, I believe, an 
 expression of the characteristic want of our times, 
 the want which Christ is waiting to satisfy. We 
 need the outflow of a spiritual force among us 
 which shall bring the deep conviction of the 
 reality of this world-wide fellowship of men. We 
 need it in our personal life, in our national life, 
 in our religious life." ^ 
 
 ^ Lessons from Work, p. 103. 
 
284 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SOCIAL-ETHICAL TRENDS. 
 
 Under the term socialism have been compre- 
 hended various schemes which, though differing 
 in points of greater or less importance, take a 
 common view of the claims of industrial labour, 
 of the method by which equalisations of condition 
 and opportunity are to be realised, and of the 
 readjustment of society to be effected through 
 the corporate action of the State. But, as has 
 already been remarked, many who cannot accept 
 either all the principles on which these systems 
 are built up, or all the conclusions to which they 
 lead, are yet in sympathy with some of the ideas 
 that pervade them, and it is proposed, in this 
 chapter, to consider certain social-ethical trends, 
 in which this sympathy is expressed. 
 
 In using the phrase social -ethical, the limita- 
 tions of our survey will be recognised. It is not 
 the intention to treat of ethics as involving the 
 
The Dignity of Labour. 285 
 
 laws of personal conduct. These, of course, can- 
 not be set aside, inasmuch as what is true or right, 
 false or wrong, as to the aggregate must corre- 
 spond to what is true or right, false or wrong, as to 
 the individuals who form the aggregate. But the 
 intention is to regard the crystalline in its whole- 
 ness, not to analyse the separate rays in their 
 separateness. In every age, there must be modi- 
 fications and elasticities in the application of 
 principles to existing facts : as in Lowell's words — 
 
 " New occasions teach new duties, 
 Time makes ancient good uncouth." 
 
 Every community, moreover, has what may be 
 called a special moral judgment, a judgment 
 that represents the sum of the special influ- 
 ences acting on it and through it. Two or 
 three of such influences let us review. 
 
 One of the inclinations of thought which, in this 
 day, connect with social ethics is, the assertion 
 that work, with a moral end in view, is the mark 
 of human worth and dignity. It is true that this 
 is a very old assertion. But, in our time, it has 
 been presented with a new emphasis. Ruskin, in 
 his * Crown of Wild Olive,' distinguishes between 
 work and play. Both mean action ; but the con- 
 trast that he states is, " Play is an exertion of 
 
2 86 Present- Day Problems, 
 
 body or mind made to please ourselves, and with 
 no determined end." And, somewhat fancifully, 
 he groups together money -making, horse -racing 
 and betting, ladies' dressing, and war, as " the 
 games which the playing class in England spend 
 their time in playing at." In opposition to all 
 this he sets the work with hand or brain, or both, 
 which fulfils three tests — viz., that it be honest, 
 that it be useful, and that it be cheerful.^ Now, 
 the contention that the olive crown is the wreath 
 of all who thus work, from the highest to the 
 lowest, that such work is the one and only sign 
 of worthy living, is a feature of the most in- 
 fluential literature of our country, and indeed of 
 the civilised world. No more fervent prophet of 
 the gospel of work has spoken to his generation 
 than Thomas Carlyle. We are now so familiar 
 with his utterances, his writings have so moulded 
 the feeling of men, that we are apt to forget how 
 mighty was the impulse which he gave, and even 
 to speak lightly of him. But there are not a few 
 who can recall the mental and moral incitements 
 realised through the perusal of his ' Sartor Re- 
 sartus,' his ' Past and Present,' his ' Lectures on 
 Heroes,' his ' Latter-day Pamphlets,' — how they 
 were wont to repeat to themselves his hot, crisp 
 sentences : *' Not what I have but what I do, 
 
 ^ Crown of Wild Olive, chap. i. 
 
Carlyle and Work. 287 
 
 is my kingdom."^ ''That impossible receipt, 
 Know thyself, let it be translated into this partially 
 possible one. Know what thou canst work at." " 
 " Be no longer a chaos but a world, or even a 
 world-kin. Produce ; produce. Were it but the 
 pitifullest infinitesimal fraction of a product, pro- 
 duce it in God's name." ^ "The situation which 
 has not its duty, its ideal, was never yet occupied 
 by man. Work the ideal out from the actual, 
 and working, believe, live, and be free." ^ 
 
 This reiteration supplied the right tonic for an 
 age of prodigious activity. The right tonic ; for, 
 in contradistinction to effort for mere material 
 and selfish advantage, it associated work with an 
 ideal, it maintained that the only action which 
 can win the olive crown is that whereby the 
 actual is the translation of the ideal into deed. 
 The range of vision was wider than that of 
 the socialist. It did not make manual labour 
 the standard for all labour. Carlyle recognises 
 two men, and no third, — the one who toils by the 
 hand, and, by his toil, secures the goods and good 
 of the earth ; and the other (but to him he gives 
 the higher place), the one who labours for the 
 bread of life, for all that nourishes the higher life 
 of the soul. And in this a distinct ethical note 
 
 ^ Sartor Resartus, chap. iv. p. 83. - Ibid., chap. vii. p. 114. 
 
 3 Ibid., chap. vii. p. 136. * Ibid., chap. vii. p. 135. 
 
2 88 Present- Day P7'oblerns. 
 
 is sounded, whose vibrations are felt everywhere. 
 Formerly, the only exertion which society would 
 allow to the scions of the upper classes was in the 
 direction of Ruskin's "play." Now, we behold 
 them aspiring after useful service of many kinds. 
 Even in the " game of war," we have beheld the 
 sons of the gentry enlisting as privates in yeo- 
 manry corps and in other regiments, so as, in 
 the hour of need, to serve their country. The 
 emancipation of women from conditions that re- 
 strained their energy, that doomed multitudes to 
 inane existence, " pecking about like birds after 
 what pleased them," was a consequence of this 
 magnifying of strenuous useful work. Now, 
 women of all degrees recognise that there are 
 careers of usefulness open to them, that they 
 can be helps to society otherwise than through 
 marriage, and helps to themselves in developing 
 the capacities with which they are endowed. 
 A new social bond of cohesion has thus been 
 formed between the various sections of the com- 
 munity, and a new ethical ambition, purifying 
 all life, has thus been stimulated. 
 
 The prominence that is given to the ethics of 
 wealth marks another trend of thought in our day 
 — a trend that finds the age in one of its most 
 noticeable features, and one of its chief worships.. 
 
Commercial Immoralities. 289 
 
 Poverty is not the only problem to be pondered 
 by those who aim at social wellbeing. The 
 enormous wealth, referred to in a previous chapter, 
 is also and equally a problem ; and in connexion 
 with it the questions arise, How is the wealth 
 made ? How is it used ? How is it distributed ? 
 The Christian Church has surely its mission and 
 its message to the rich as well as to the poor, 
 and it must take care that this mission and this 
 message are not overlooked. 
 
 There are prevalent conditions of commercial 
 life which it is impossible to reconcile with a 
 high standard of morals. Tricks abound in every 
 trade ; but, with many, trade is a continual trick- 
 ery. Business transactions have no substance 
 behind them ; commodities are bought and sold 
 before they are in the market, or without their 
 being in the market at all. Accommodations of 
 many kinds make business an endless and weary 
 financing. The spirit of speculation infects all 
 classes and grades, from the plutocrat to the 
 message-boy ; with what consequences there is 
 no need to specify. The haste to be rich, the 
 need to provide for wants that are created by 
 the ambition to live in stylish ways, is a con- 
 stant temptation to invest in risky concerns, 
 to clutch at possibilities of gain, which are also 
 possibilities of loss that cannot be met. And 
 
 T 
 
290 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 even when methods of action are legitimate, avar- 
 ice — the craving for more and ever more — im- 
 molates at its altars the energy, the strength, the 
 interest of manhood ; in the desire to accumulate, 
 nobler and worthier desires are sacrificed, and 
 the man becomes a servant of mammon. It is 
 very difficult to keep the conscience in living cor- 
 respondence with a high ideal, to keep the hands 
 clean and the heart pure, in the scramble for 
 money that everywhere confronts us, and amid 
 the competitions that become every year more 
 pressing. The Christian merchant is not an 
 unknown person — on the contrary, he is to be 
 often met ; but sometimes it is scarcely possible 
 to harmonise transactions with the law of Christ. 
 Assuming wealth to be honestly gotten, the vital 
 issue is. How is it to be used ; what are the prin- 
 ciples which should guide those who have the 
 larger shares of this world's goods ? This is an 
 issue that requires to be fairly considered. We 
 cannot lay down hard and fast rules. It must be 
 admitted that differences in social position, in 
 taste, and in temperament, imply differences in 
 the expenditure by which a man receives the good 
 of his labour. Wealth, too, has an office to dis- 
 charge in the promotion of art, of the higher 
 forms of culture, of the more refined aspects of 
 social life. Increases of comfort are inevitable. 
 
Waste of Wealth. 291 
 
 But, when this is said, the line must be drawn 
 between elegance and mere luxury. Consumption 
 of means, parade of means, in extravagant fashion 
 — in ways that are quite beyond all that really 
 beautifies and enriches existence — is to be utterly 
 condemned. The wealthiest, no less than the 
 poorest, stand before a white throne, and the 
 books of the life are opened, and judgment is 
 made out of the books. And if, as thus judged, 
 excesses, ministering only to ostentation, to vain- 
 glory, to an enervating softness, to heartless self- 
 ish enjoyment, are proved, the sentence. Guilty, 
 is swift and sure. The waste of wealth is sin. 
 
 That the possessor of wealth is responsible to 
 God and to society for its administration is a 
 conviction which every year is becoming more 
 intense. In the tone of those organs of public 
 opinion that reflect the best feeling of the 
 country, we can observe a growing impatience 
 of the dissipation of fortunes on frivolities, and 
 the reckless squandering of means on betting and 
 gambhng. For the gratification of aesthetic taste, 
 and for all that healthily ministers to refinement, 
 liberal margins are allowed. None will object 
 to such a provision for families as shall secure a 
 vantage-ground for the exercise of their aptitudes, 
 without bringing on them the curse of idleness, 
 or leading them into the temptations which the 
 
292 Present' Day Problems, 
 
 want of stimulus to action causes. But, in re- 
 spect of all beyond this, it is more and more de- 
 manded that a man should regard himself, not 
 as the absolute and irresponsible proprietor, but 
 as the trustee, for behoof of his world, of the 
 riches he has inherited or acquired — that these 
 riches should be held as an estate with whose 
 administration he is charged. Wealth has its 
 obligation and its privilege. It is a privilege 
 to have an abundance to give, to be able to 
 originate or to direct causes that benefit man- 
 kind, to identify personal joy with the welfare 
 of others. It is an obligation to study the best 
 ways and methods of doing this. Indiscriminate 
 and injudicious benevolence demoralises society, 
 and works ill to one's neighbour. He who would 
 really benefit must wisely consider and act. It is 
 a poor evasion alike of privilege and of obligation 
 to hoard money during the Hfetime, and leave 
 it to charities in a last will and testament : to 
 keep it so long as it can minister to the mere 
 pride of life, and to give directions as to its 
 application after the owner's death. The death- 
 duties rightly snatch a portion for the good of 
 the nation ; the moral which they point being 
 that men should be their own executors, utiHsing 
 the surplus which they have, in the conscious- 
 ness of a stewardship that they cannot re- 
 
Responsibility for Wealth. 293 
 
 nounce, for the glory of God and the good of 
 their fellows. 
 
 An object-lesson on the duty of the wealthy 
 has been given by Mr Carnegie, the well-known 
 millionaire of Pittsburg. In his ' Gospel of 
 Wealth ' he thus states the responsibility of the 
 man of wealth : "To set an example of modest, 
 unostentatious living, shunning display or ex- 
 travagance ; to provide moderately for the legit- 
 imate wants of those dependent upon him ; and, 
 after doing so, to consider all surplus revenues 
 which come to him simply as trust-funds which 
 he is called upon to administer, and strictly bound 
 as a matter of duty to administer, in the manner 
 which in his judgment is best calculated to pro- 
 duce the most beneficial results for the com- 
 munity; the man of wealth thus becoming the 
 mere trustee and agent for his poorer brethren, 
 bringing to their service his superior wisdom, 
 experience, and ability to administer, doing for 
 them better than they would or could do for 
 themselves."^ These are words that express a 
 high ethical ideal — words that the Christian 
 Church, in the light of its great Exemplar, 
 should ''teach and exhort." 
 
 But another view of wealth has been presented, 
 which must not be omitted from our survey. 
 
 1 The Gospel of Weallh, p. 15. 
 
294 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 Ruskin, often in eccentric fashion and with un- 
 necessary exaggerations, set himself to the task of 
 combating apprehensions which he held to be 
 promotive of a base prostration before the golden 
 image of Dura. He attacked political econo- 
 mists as blameworthy, in so far as they narrowed 
 the scope of a science that is especially needful 
 for the nation to mere money-making, and as 
 they ignored the first and the essential condition 
 of the wealth of a people and of individuals. He 
 distinguished between wealth, money, and riches. 
 Wealth, he urged, consists in things essentially 
 valuable ; money consists in things of currency 
 and exchange ; riches include the relations of men 
 to each other, and the just laws of their associa- 
 tion for purposes of labour.^ With all his might 
 he affirmed that in wealth, properly so called, 
 there are two elements of value — the intrinsic , 
 denoting all that contributes to life or has the 
 power of supporting life, and is thus essentially 
 useful ; and the effectual, denoting the capacity in 
 the person to accept and realise the use, and thus 
 have the life which is ministered to. Wanting 
 either of these, nothing, he maintained, could be 
 an occasion of wealth ; having both of these, there 
 is wealth — that is, life and life abundant. 
 
 Here, then, is a great ethical inspiration — the 
 
 ^ Munera Pulveris, chap. i. pp. lo, ii. 
 
Life is Wealth. 295 
 
 inspiration long ago breathed into the nostrils of 
 humanity by Him who knew what is in man. 
 But it is uttered in a new form. The point to be 
 grasped is, that the first requirement in order to 
 wealth is that there be that which in itself and for 
 itself is everlastingly worthy, and that there be 
 the power to possess this and turn it to its full 
 account. A millionaire may have money in heaps. 
 If he utilise that money for the securing of noble 
 objects, and if he be himself a noble man, the 
 money, by that which it commands, lifts him into 
 the region of wealth. If he hoard as a miser, the 
 love of the money eating into his soul ; or if he 
 spend it on things and in ways that are ignoble, 
 if not wrong; if he be himself a mean, small- 
 minded, and narrow-souled man ; to him it may 
 be said, "Thy money perish with thee; it is not 
 wealth, it is but a pile piled on a moral carcass." 
 This teaching may seem hazy. Many whom 
 it reached shrugged their shoulders and pro- 
 nounced Ruskin a dreamer. It was so unpopular 
 that the editors of magazines in which he ex- 
 pounded it were obliged to discontinue the publi- 
 cation of articles relating to it. Scientifically, it 
 may be at fault. But, nevertheless, there is in 
 it a conception which has laid hold of minds — 
 such as Arnold Toynbee and Patrick Geddes — 
 that have influenced their generation, and through 
 
296 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 them, slowly perhaps but surely, it has become a 
 part of the experience of the time. Even where 
 the view of wealth as life which it expresses is 
 not fully received, it is operative. A more dis- 
 tinctly ethical element has been infused into 
 political science, and additional momentum has 
 been given to altruistic feeling and service. 
 
 This altruistic feeling, this humanitarian trend, 
 is one of the most conspicuous features in the 
 social ethics of the present day. 
 
 Altruism has been exalted into a worship. The 
 most explicit form of the worship is to be found in 
 the Positivism propounded by M. Auguste Comte. 
 In the earlier period of his career, Comte sneered 
 at ''religiosity as a mere weakness and avowal 
 of want of power." But, in the later period, he 
 discovered that religiosity cannot be dismissed 
 with a sneer, and he elaborated a travesty of 
 Roman Catholicism which he intended to be 
 the glorifying of humanity, to be an education 
 in the love of humanity, to be the expression of 
 the only true morality — that in which the pro- 
 gress of the race is made the one end and the 
 only good of life. Comtism as a system has 
 waned. It is a house divided against itself, split 
 into sections that are bitterly hostile to each 
 other. And, in the circles to which it appealed 
 
Altruism. 297 
 
 most powerfully, the more explicit socialisms of the 
 Continent and of Great Britain have supplanted it. 
 But the essence of the system pervades the 
 thought of the time. It is '' the only philosophy 
 that is a really new agent in progress."^ Christ- 
 ianity is humanitarian. But the new agent, as 
 interpreted by its more prominent advocates, 
 diverges from Christianity when it separates the 
 love of the neighbour from the first command- 
 ment, to which, in Christ's teaching, it is like — 
 the commandment "to love God with all the 
 heart, and with all the soul, and with all the 
 might" — and when it eliminates the central 
 motive-power, the love of man for Christ's sake 
 and in Christ's love. Altruism, in magnifying the 
 love of one's neighbour, opposes that to the love 
 of self. The love of self is to be lost. The New 
 Testament recognises a legitimate self-love, not 
 to be lost, but to be the measure of the love of 
 one's neighbour. Altruism has its religion in it- 
 self. The synthesis which it desires is one that 
 explains man and his universe only from man's 
 point of view. George Eliot, in whose writings 
 this humanitarianism is skilfully presented, '* takes 
 religious patriotism for the subject of her last 
 novel,^ but is at some pains to show that her hero 
 
 1 Mallock, ' Is Life worth living?' chap. i. 
 
 2 Daniel Deronda. 
 
298 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 may be religious without any belief in God, and 
 patriotic without any but an ideal country." ^ 
 
 There is a humanitarianism which has a 
 religious hue, but this kind sometimes assumes 
 an eccentric character. The Tolstoyism that 
 has developed in Russia is an illustration which 
 presents many points of interest. 
 
 Count Leo Tolstoy, a noble of ancient line- 
 age, under the power of altruistic convictions, 
 renounced his position with all its privileges, 
 and chose to live as a labourer among labourers. 
 The history of his inner life gives a special char- 
 acter to his self-renunciation. In 1845, when 
 he was sixteen years of age, he discarded all 
 religion. His moral attitude then and for many 
 years thereafter, and the genesis of the new faith 
 by which he was quickened, are outlined in one 
 of the principal persons in his painfully realistic 
 novel, ' Anna Karenina.' Levin (so far a por- 
 trait of himself) became obstinately sceptical as 
 to all the beliefs in which he had been reared. 
 From the age of twenty to thirty -four, "our 
 organism and its destruction, the indestruct- 
 ibility of matter, the laws of the conservation 
 and development of forces, were words which 
 were substituted for the terms of his early 
 
 ^ Quoted in ' Life, is it worth living ? ' by the present writer, 
 p. 64. 
 
Count Tolstoy. 299 
 
 taith." ^ Then came the shock caused by his 
 brother's death. He reahsed that these terms 
 '' stood for nothing in the face of real hfe." 
 The problem of his existence — the problems of 
 existence — haunted and tormented him; and, 
 scrutinising '' the whole arsenal of his scientific 
 convictions, he could find no answer whatever 
 to his questions." The more he puzzled, the 
 greater was his despair. Tortured by his ignor- 
 ance, listless as to "anything that was good and 
 useful for all, for humanity," he left his barn 
 one day, after a period of toil, along with a 
 humble machine-tender. In the course of their 
 talk, the names of two men were mentioned, 
 and the muzhik said : '' ' Men differ. One lives 
 for his belly, like Mitiukh ' (one of the two), 
 * but Fokanuitch ' (the other) * is an honest 
 man ; he lives for his soul, he remembers God.' 
 ' What do you call living for the soul and re- 
 membering God ? ' exclaimed Levin eagerly. 
 ' Why, that's plain enough,' was the rejoinder. 
 ' It is to live according to God, according to 
 truth.' The simple words echoed through the 
 heart, and weighty thoughts, as from a hidden 
 source, arose, filling him with their brilliant 
 light." 2 ''Reason," he said to himself, ''has 
 nothing to do with loving the neighbour." He 
 
 1 Anna Karenina, p. 741. ^ Ibid., pp. 748, 749. 
 
300 Present- Day Proble^ns. 
 
 could not accept all the teaching of the Church, 
 but he could live that life of the soul which 
 alone is worth living for ; and henceforth life 
 would be, *'not meaningless as before, but full 
 of a deep meaning which he would have power 
 to impress on every action." 
 
 This is the picture of Tolstoy (and, more or 
 less, it is the picture of many persons in the 
 present day). Impatient of creeds, of councils, 
 of fathers, of St Paul himself, the one point is 
 " access to the spirit of life through Jesus." 
 Tolstoy's doctrine, such as it is, is extracted 
 from the Sermon on the Mount. He compre- 
 hended his doctrine in five great commandments 
 of peace — commandments which are the articles 
 of universal brotherhood. What his religious 
 position to-day is, it may be difficult to deter- 
 mine. The orthodox Greek Church has excom- 
 municated him ; it is to be hoped that he still 
 clings to " Christ's Christianity." But he has 
 his followers who, as is frequently the case, have 
 not observed the limits of the master. He has 
 lived with his wife and children. They have 
 become a colony, almost monastic without a 
 monastery, — *' ranging from nobles and million- 
 aires to tramps and peasants, and possessing 
 not even coat and spade, but happy, contented. 
 
The Ethics of the Day. 301 
 
 serene, overflowing with hard work and brotherly 
 kindness." 1 
 
 All this is suggestive of features reproduced, 
 with variations, in many lands. It represents 
 (or misrepresents ?) humanitarianism in its more 
 emotional and mystical aspects. Humanitarian- 
 ism has other aspects — the scientific, the politi- 
 cal, the evangelistic, the practically philanthropic. 
 But that now specified is, perhaps, the most inter- 
 esting of all. In one form or another — Christ- 
 ian, non- Christian, anti- Christian — the ethic of 
 the day is humanitarian. And the world insists, 
 as Christianity does, on the altruism of deed, 
 not mere word. It is intolerant of the arm- 
 chair men, who 
 
 " Debate the evil of the world 
 As though they bore no portion of that ill, 
 As though with subtle phrases they could spin 
 A woof to screen us from life's undelight ; 
 Sometimes prolonging far into the night 
 Such talk, as loth to separate and find 
 Each in his solitude how vain are words 
 When that which is opposed to them is more." ^ 
 
 Such, then, are some of the more conspicuous 
 ethical trends of our day. Their influence is 
 apparent in its politics. It is impossible to 
 
 ' 'Edinburgh Review,' July 1901. 
 
 '^ Quoted by Canon Gore, Banipton Lecture, p. 201. 
 
302 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 separate the political from the ethical. They 
 are necessary each to the other, if, indeed, the one 
 is not a part of the other.^ Though, in respect 
 of method and, so far, of motive, they are apart, 
 they have the same end in view, the same back- 
 ground and the same foreground. ''On the one 
 hand," writes Professor Sidgwick, " the duty or 
 virtue of any individual is held to consist essen- 
 tially in the performance of his functions as a 
 member of a social organism, in such a manner 
 as to realise or effectually promote the wellbeing 
 of the whole organism, whilst on the other hand 
 a certain kind of political order is generally held 
 to be an indispensable condition or constituent of 
 such wellbeing." ^ Now, we can trace the main 
 currents of social ethics in the ampler per- 
 spectives of legislation, witnessing to the change 
 which has passed over the conception of the 
 State and of the powers and province of govern- 
 ment. And in these perspectives, in this change 
 — in the lines of advance which are thus indi- 
 cated — many will recognise the pathway of such 
 a harmonious development of national life, such 
 a consistency in the growing sway of beauteous 
 order with the growths in the life of man, as 
 shall secure a real counteractive to the wild and 
 
 ^ Aristotle maintained that it was. 
 
 2 Sidgwick's Methods of Ethics, p. 20. 
 
Ethics and Civilisation. 303 
 
 irrational types of socialism which denounce all 
 private property as immoral, and in whose ex- 
 treme left we discern the gunpowder and the 
 dynamite of the anarchist. 
 
 But, irrespective of all direct political reference, 
 the dominating subject of interest to the Church 
 is the moral or ethical life of the people. It 
 is sometimes affirmed that an ethical standard is 
 involved in the civilisation of the twentieth cen- 
 tury. To a certain extent this is true. But 
 Mr Mackenzie justly reminds us that " civilisa- 
 tion, as it actually exists, is partly a product of 
 the vices as well as of the virtues of mankind, 
 and is adapted to the former as well as to the 
 latter. It is not arranged for the extinction 
 of vice, but at most, in Burke's language, ' that 
 vice may lose half its evil by losing half its gross- 
 ness. It is arranged not for the promotion of 
 virtue but only of respectability.' " ^ If, therefore, 
 rank growths of evil no less than good may be 
 expected as the product of civilisation, the in- 
 quiry remains, What is the vitality of the force 
 that is working, as from an inner moral centre, 
 through our civilisation ? 
 
 The signs are mixed. Looking up and down, 
 out and about, on the hollowness of much of the 
 religious profession of the day ; on the absence of 
 
 1 Manual of Ethics, p. 391. 
 
304 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 lofty motive in the conduct of man to man and 
 man to woman ; on the selfishness in compe- 
 titions and rivalries, by which the strong push 
 the weak out of the running and leave the less fit 
 hopeless and forlorn ; on the immoralities in 
 trade, the more than questionable practices in 
 vogue in commercial circles ; on the heartless 
 frivolity, ostentation, luxury, and looseness of 
 large areas of fashionable life, and the low, coarse 
 animalism of thousands on thousands of the popu- 
 lation, — taking these and many other features into 
 account, a despondent feeling is apt to steal into 
 the mind. Who does not often realise this feeling, 
 and with Tennyson, in *' Locksley Hall Sixty 
 Years After," has not sometimes been moved 
 to protest — 
 
 " When was age so crammed with menace ? madness ? 
 written, spoken, hes ? 
 
 Evolution ever climbing after some ideal good, 
 
 And Reversion ever 4ragging Evolution in the mud." 
 
 An even more cynical note may ring through the 
 protest — such a note as that sounded by a biographer 
 of Ibsen as an appropriate motto for him : — " Let 
 others complain of this age as being wicked. I 
 complain of it as being contemptible ; for it is 
 devoid of passion. Men's thoughts are thin and 
 frail as lace ; they themselves are the weakling 
 
Aims and Efforts. 305 
 
 lacemakers. The thoughts of their hearts are too 
 paltry to be sinful." ^ 
 
 But this represents the mood of a dismal day 
 when the sky is leaden, and the rain drips, and 
 there is no tonic in the air ; the mood of a moral 
 climate which, having lost the sunshine of faith, 
 and being laden with manifold unhealthiness, 
 depresses the system and turns the light in the 
 soul into darkness. Against all that is untoward 
 in the social prospect are to be set the tokens, 
 neither few nor uncertain, of a purpose, whose 
 momentum is ever increasing, to reduce the vices 
 and degradations that are casting dark shadows 
 across our civilisation, — a steadily progressive 
 movement towards better life - conditions and 
 averages, higher levels and nobler loves for the 
 individual units of mankind. Why is it that 
 attention so concentrates on the plague-spots in 
 all our cities ? Why is it that the best thought of 
 the period is so exercised on the question, What 
 is to be done to make life wealthier and worthier, 
 and, What are the most effective methods of such 
 doing ? Why is it that on all sides there are or- 
 ganised efforts directed against particular social 
 evils and iniquities ? Why is it that persons 
 of all ranks are drawn together, as by an irre- 
 sistible magnetism, in strenuous endeavours to 
 
 ^ Ibsen and Bjornsen, by George Brand, p. 49. 
 
 y 
 
3o6 Preseiit-Day Problems, 
 
 "work out the beast in men's world " and ''let 
 the ape and tiger die " ? In the early part of last 
 century, the state of our country was immeasurably 
 worse than it is in this, the dawning year, of the 
 new century. And the men of that time slum- 
 bered and slept. There has been a great awaken- 
 ment of conscience. The moral ideal, as has been 
 shown, is higher. The chasm between the ideal 
 and the actual is more vividly perceived, and for 
 the width of this chasm society is arraigning itself 
 as verily guilty. Government is active. Munici- 
 palities are active. Science and art are active. 
 The demand is for more and better education; 
 and education is being made ever more compre- 
 hensive in its survey, and more ethical in its 
 spirit and aim. Houses are improving. Healthier 
 recreations are provided. The reverence for the 
 person of woman or man which Milton commends 
 is more strenuously inculcated, and many en- 
 deavours are made to elevate and purify tastes 
 and habits. All forces, intellectual, social, and 
 religious, are in full operation — the voice sound- 
 ing through all as the sound of many waters 
 being, " In God's name, let men be free in the 
 freedom of the truth." This awakenment, this 
 consensus of aims, this determination of will, is 
 in itself the most hopeful of features, the most 
 convincing of the signs of a stronger ethical life. 
 
The New Age. 307 
 
 It bids us be of good cheer. It reminds us that, 
 through all the groans and travail of our time, 
 the manifestation of the sons of God is being 
 hastened. As William Watson has sung,— 
 
 " The new age stands as yet 
 Half built against the sky, 
 Opeji to every threat 
 
 Of storms that clamour by ; 
 Scaffolding veils the walls 
 And dim dust floats and falls, 
 As moving to and fro their tasks the masons ply." 
 
3o8 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE SOCIAL WORK OF THE CHURCH IN THE 
 PRESENT DAY. 
 
 It has been shown that the problems of modern 
 society relating to the conditions under which 
 vast multitudes live and move and have their being 
 bristle with difficulties whose solution marks the 
 strenuous endeavour of thoughtful and earnest 
 men. We have considered a class of theories 
 which, however they may differ in detail, agree 
 in the demand that the State shall be transformed, 
 and that the present social system shall be revolu- 
 tionised ; and the consideration has indicated a 
 fatal unsoundness in their economic positions, 
 and sometimes a fatal deficiency in moral tone. 
 In the previous chapter, certain social -ethical 
 trends were regarded ; but of them it must be 
 said that, whilst they are interesting and signi- 
 ficant as exhibitive of the tendencies of in- 
 fluential convictions, their effectiveness depends 
 
The Witness of the Chitrch. 309 
 
 on the hold that Christian ethics, in its springs, 
 principles, and laws, has of the social conscience. 
 The conclusion at which we arrive is, that the 
 virtue by which the wounds and bruises of 
 humanity can be healed is not contained in 
 any special philosophy or economy : that may do 
 much ; but, in order to the stanching of the issue, 
 there must be internal rectifications as well as 
 external readjustments — improved environment, 
 but also regenerated life. This is the witness 
 which the Christian Church is called to bear ; 
 and in accordance with the witness is its action 
 to be shaped. It has a temporal, but it has first 
 a spiritual, mission. And the inquiry with which 
 we are now concerned is. How far is it fulfilling 
 this mission, temporal as well as spiritual, in 
 the midst of the clashing views and in the face 
 of the perplexing circumstances by which it is 
 confronted ? 
 
 This inquiry is forced into prominence by the 
 attacks and insinuations to which reference has 
 already been made. Saint - Simon gave the 
 keynote for such attacks when he declared, as 
 against both the Roman Catholic and the Pro- 
 testant Churches, that "they had lost their power 
 simply because they had neglected their great 
 temporal mission of raising the poor, and because 
 their clergy remained absolutely ignorant of the 
 
310 Present-Day Problems, 
 
 living social questions of the times." ^ Thus he 
 wrote a hundred years ago, and thus men write 
 still. Is the accusation that they hurl justified ? 
 
 We do not need to borrow the speech of a false 
 humility, but neither have we occasion to assume 
 a pharisaic self-complacency. Many of those who 
 condemn the Churches and the clergy are in dead 
 earnest — men whose self-devotion, intensity, and 
 force entitle them to respect. And, as was re- 
 marked in an earlier page of this book, it is not 
 to be wondered at that men of this stamp, into 
 whose souls the iron has entered, feel that there 
 is an atmosphere of unreality about much of the 
 teaching, much in all that bulks most largely in 
 the aspect and business, of the Church. But 
 when this has been said — not for the purpose of 
 turning the cheek to any smiter, but for the pur- 
 pose of receiving that *' reproof of the righteous 
 which is excellent oil " — let us ask whether it 
 can fairly be charged that '* the Church has 
 neglected its great temporal mission of raising 
 the poor " ? 
 
 In former chapters of this volume, it was de- 
 monstrated that, notwithstanding all its faults 
 and imperfections, the Christian Church in the 
 nineteen centuries of its history has penetrated 
 into deeper places of human life than all political 
 
 ^ Contemporary Socialism, p. 218. 
 
The Clergy and Progress. 3 1 1 
 
 forces have done ; that it has been the social 
 friend, benefactor, regenerator, in ways often un- 
 observed, and through influences never blazoned 
 forth to public view. It is affirmed, indeed, that 
 the ministers of the Church have for the most 
 part resisted improvements ; that, jealous of 
 movements which might impair ecclesiastical 
 authority, they have tenaciously clung to old 
 orders even when new orders were displacing 
 them ; and that they have combined with prin- 
 cipalities and powers in opposing enfranchise- 
 ments of the people. In this assertion, there 
 may be some truth ; but, as an indictment against 
 a whole class, it is not borne out by facts. The 
 clergy are not usually men ** given to change"; 
 and it is no disadvantage to the cause of pro- 
 gress that there should be an intelligently critical 
 attitude towards new departures. The rationale 
 of these departures — their basis, aims, and ad- 
 vantages — must be made evident, in order that 
 they may obtain the consent which can render 
 them fully beneficial. If the wheels of the 
 chariot seem to tarry, the future advance is 
 only the more fully assured. But, any person 
 who impartially studies the records of the past 
 will find that the Church has been in the front, 
 rather than in the rear, of the march. Certainly, 
 it has been so in Scotland. By the plantation 
 
312 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 of kirks, the division of parishes, the building 
 of manses, centres of intellectual light and of 
 Christian sympathy were provided in every part 
 of the land, from which have issued agencies 
 and offices of beneficence. The Church was, 
 for centuries, the national almoner to the poor. 
 It was the Church that fostered education when 
 statesmen gave little heed to it ; by its exertions, 
 the parish school was placed beside the parish 
 church ; any encouragement that was given to 
 secondary education and to the universities was, 
 during many generations, given by the Church. 
 Undoubtedly, dark shadows rest on ecclesiastical 
 activities in days that are gone. The belief in 
 witchcraft, and the cruelties perpetrated by pres- 
 byteries and presbyters on supposed witches, are 
 frequently quoted. The blemish is admitted. It 
 was a sign of the semi-barbarous and superstitious 
 feeling that lingered in the country — an excrescence 
 of fanaticism, fostered by the isolation of Scotland 
 from the play of wider civilisations, which was 
 gradually removed. The most enlightened church- 
 men opposed it. But to this blemish and to other 
 blemishes, we can oppose the many social impulses 
 that were given by the Church. Agricultural 
 advance was largely due to the older race of 
 parish ministers — that with which the term 
 " Moderate " is identified. We need not have 
 
Social Sei^vice of the Clergy, 
 
 jM 
 
 any bias towards the type of mind which the 
 Moderate represented, and yet, in justice, recog- 
 nise that, in the words of Mr Grey Graham, 
 " most of the Hterary and cultured clergy be- 
 longed to that class ; those of most practical 
 energy, shrewdest to advance improvement in 
 trade and agriculture, the sagacious advisers of 
 their flocks on week-days, and wise teachers of 
 duties on Sunday. . . . The encouragement to 
 new methods of industry often came from those 
 shrewd parish ministers."^ And, in the more 
 modern time, when a higher spiritual tone was 
 evidenced in the Church, the furtherance of 
 social utilities did not abate. The founder of 
 savings banks in Scotland was an evangelical 
 Dumfriesshire clergyman. No man of his day 
 gave more heed to social science and its ap- 
 plications than Dr Chalmers. The champion 
 of the bothy lads in Forfarshire was the Rev. 
 Harry Stuart of Oathlaw. And who that recalls 
 the names of Norman Macleod, and Thomas 
 Guthrie, and William Robertson of Edinburgh; 
 the labours of the General Assembly's Commis- 
 
 1 Social Life in Scotland,' vol. ii. p. 96, note p. 97. Sir Henry 
 Craik (' A Century of Scottish History,' vol. i. p. 385) writes con- 
 cerning the Moderates : " In the minds of this dominant party 
 the Church was to take an active part in the promotion of every 
 scheme of public improvement, and was to accept as a Christian 
 duty the advancement of the material welfare of the nation." 
 
3 14 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 sion on the Religious Condition of the people, 
 with its voluminous reports, glancing into all 
 the scenes and circumstances of life in Scot- 
 land ; the work of the Commission of Glasgow 
 Presbytery on the Housing of the Poor ; the 
 expanding ministries of Home Missions in the 
 Church of Scotland, the United Free Church, 
 and other Churches; the unwearied devotion of 
 the Roman Catholic clergy and the toils of the 
 sisterhoods and societies in the Roman Church ; 
 who that reviews the ecclesiastical situation 
 with an open mind needs to be told that almost 
 the last thing which should be charged against 
 Christian Churches is that they have not dis- 
 charged their *' temporal mission of raising the 
 poor." They may not have been always wise in 
 their methods, and the result of all the endeavour 
 may not have realised the full fruition of the 
 prayers and pains bestowed ; but they have ac- 
 cepted the care of the poor, and they have not 
 been indifferent to the social wants and aspira- 
 tions of their age. 
 
 The tokens of manifold social activity abound. 
 In the days of old, when the population was 
 sparse, and life was quiet, if not slumberous, 
 it was deemed sufficient to have a house of 
 worship for the parishioners. Now, at least in 
 all more populous centres, the Church must 
 
Activity in CImrck and University. 3 1 5 
 
 have halls, premises for the prosecution of 
 Christian work in the surrounding district, for 
 the purposes of instruction, recreation, and 
 fellowship. More and more, a congregation is 
 developing from a company of " hearers " of 
 the minister into a partnership for the carrying 
 out of the objects of the Christian society. 
 And, in connexion both with Church and with 
 University, there are some striking illustrations 
 of social endeavour which it may be well to 
 regard. 
 
 The contention, it will be understood, is that 
 we cannot absolutely separate between the social 
 and the spiritual ; that, in aiming at the con- 
 version of the individual soul, the Church is 
 really aiming at and promoting social good ; 
 that every one who welcomes Christ as the 
 light of his seeing becomes necessarily a force 
 economically and morally gainful to the world. 
 Social science cannot overlook the springs of 
 human action. What they are — their wholc- 
 someness and vitality — is, after all, the first 
 of considerations. A man may be improved 
 through the improvement of his environment, 
 — assuredly, he will be deteriorated when he 
 is left with a wretched environment, — but the 
 improvement coming from without will be effec- 
 tual only when there is an improvement coming 
 
3 1 6 Presetit-Day Problems. 
 
 from within. It is said that the wellbeing of 
 the proletariat (so called) is dependent on a 
 revolution, by which the State shall be made 
 the universal capitalist and providence of the 
 nation ; but human nature in its waywardness 
 and its selfishness needs to be dealt with : the 
 social happiness desiderated is possible only 
 through such a renewal of the will as shall 
 deliver a true self-love, perfected in social fellow- 
 ships and disciplines, from a love of self which 
 separates from one's neighbour. Permanently 
 elevated life implies the moral dynamic that 
 Christianity specially contemplates. *' The wel- 
 fare of a society," it has been said, " is nothing 
 except as it exists in the conscious experiences 
 of the men and women who compose it." 
 
 The ministries that are based on principles, 
 or aim at results, which place the moral eleva- 
 tion of the individual in the forefront, represent 
 varieties in effort not easily classified. There 
 shall be no attempt in these pages to do so ; 
 only some examples of the practical expression 
 of the Christian enthusiasm of humanity shall 
 be given. 
 
 If the endeavours that are mainly directed 
 to the conversion of the soul sunk in careless- 
 ness and sin are not enlarged upon, this is not 
 
Evangelism and Philanthropy. 3 1 7 
 
 because they are undervalued. Far from it. 
 But the present point of view is a social one, 
 and evangelistic labour is referred to only with 
 the view of bringing out that, almost neces- 
 sarily, it allies itself with humanitarian labours 
 and ends. "What is the use," exclaims 
 General Booth, *' of preaching the Gospel to 
 men whose whole attention is concentrated 
 upon a mad desperate struggle to keep them- 
 selves alive? The first thing to do is to get 
 a man at least a footing on firm ground, and 
 to give him room to live. Then you may 
 have a chance."^ So it is that, in the desire 
 to gain the citadel of the being, an evangelistic 
 agency gathers around it a vast philanthropic 
 service : how vast, how comprehensive of the 
 needs and wants of both body and soul, the 
 work of such an association as the United 
 Evangelistic Association of Glasgow testifies. 
 
 Our survey includes organisations whose out- 
 look is, not so much the regeneration of the 
 life by the power of the Gospel of Christ, as 
 the reformation of the ways and habits of the 
 people, the utilisation of educational and moral 
 forces in widening the horizons of thought, and 
 the elevation of the average standards of action. 
 
 1 In Darkest England, p. 145- 
 
3i8 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 Has not the expansion of such endeavours, within 
 recent years, been wonderful ? For this, let us 
 freely admit, we are largely indebted to the dif- 
 fusion of views with a socialistic tendency, to 
 the influence of a social interest that has laid 
 hold of minds which ordinary Church methods 
 would not have attracted. Some instances of 
 this inspired energy, and of the methods by which 
 it adapts itself to a new era, may be cited. It is 
 fitting that these instances should connect with 
 London, in the social condition of whose millions 
 are most fully mirrored the heaven and the hell of 
 humanity. 
 
 A young undergraduate of Oxford, too soon 
 taken to his rest, — Arnold Toynbee, — felt the 
 stimulating force of John Ruskin's teaching on 
 art and on other topics. He projected the plan of 
 a community of persons with means and leisure, 
 associated in residence, not for the nurture of 
 a solitary and particular virtue, but for the 
 service of their fellows — ''to raise the level 
 of the social and moral conditions of life, 
 to lessen the evils of sweating, and heartless 
 management in workshop and factory, and to 
 stimulate a healthier and more active interest 
 in the educational and municipal movements 
 in the neighbourhood." ^ The densely crowded 
 
 ^ Report of Christian Social Union Settlement, 1900, p. 6. 
 
Toynbee Hall. 3 r 9 
 
 district of Whitechapel was selected as the 
 scene of the residence. A hall was founded in 
 1884 — since that date enlarged — as "a home 
 for university men who, after the conclusion 
 of their university curriculum, wish to combine 
 work for others with the duties of their own 
 profession or vocation, or who may be able 
 to devote the main portion of their time to 
 such work." A mediaeval fraternity, with a 
 nineteenth - century aspect and a much more 
 elastic constitution and object, was revived in 
 the region of London slums. The conception 
 was effective. Its realisation became an im- 
 pressive memorial of the originator. To-day, a 
 wide machinery — educational, recreative, gym- 
 nastic — is related to it. Its residents are 
 managers of schools, and serve in public 
 bodies. There are lectures, classes, social 
 evenings, friendly societies, co-operative socie- 
 ties. Conferences on social questions are held. 
 Lawyers are at hand to help those who can- 
 not pay for legal advice. Men and women of 
 good social status meet from time to time on 
 equal terms with the people of Whitechapel. 
 This Toynbee London Hall has been multiplied 
 in different parts of the Empire ; the original 
 type, with local variations, being preserved. It 
 cannot be reckoned as a Church organisation. 
 
320 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 It does not even set Christianity in evidence. 
 But neither is it non - rehgious : for, in the 
 words of its London head, " it welcomes as 
 residents or associates those who bring to the 
 house that consciousness of dependence, that 
 humihty of thought, that willingness to spend 
 and be spent which goes with all forms of 
 true religion." ^ The reports issued year by 
 year give most interesting pictures, from differ- 
 ent points, of the many - sided activities that 
 enter into the life of a settlement. 
 
 Other settlements, more or less approximating 
 to Toynbee, have been organised. In Hoxton, 
 the Christian Social Union has its men's and 
 women's hostels, which provide social and ma- 
 terial ministration, without excluding the deeper 
 and more spiritual sides of work, the aim being 
 to extend influence " further and further until this 
 one will join hands with that one across the 
 myriads of despondent toilers, and men shall 
 realise at last that the Fatherhood of God is 
 their inheritance and the brotherhood of man 
 their dearest privilege, and that these together 
 embody and fulfil the highest instincts and truest 
 aspirations of humanity itself." ^ Again, in North 
 
 ^ The Sixteenth Report of the Universities' Settlement in East 
 London, p. ii. 
 
 "^ First Annual Report of Christian Social Union Settlement, p. 9, 
 
Oxford House. 3 2 1 
 
 London and Vauxhall, the Lady Margaret Hall 
 is a nucleus of women's effort on behalf of 
 children, in promotion of women's industries, 
 and in aid of distress. ^ So also, in another part of 
 the same district, the St Hilda's East Settlement, 
 representing the Cheltenham Ladies' College, 
 gives "former pupils of the college the oppor- 
 tunity of doing work amongst the poor of the East, 
 and learning the best ways of helping them."^ 
 
 Very noticeable are the institutions that 
 associate both Church and University in social 
 work. Oxford House, in Bethnal Green, has its 
 clubs and institutes, its musical and dramatic 
 associations, its lectures week-day and Sunday, 
 its service in surrounding parishes, in hospitals, 
 in convalescent homes, in schools, in com- 
 mittees for the promotion of thrift, and the 
 erection of better houses ; and thus it provides 
 a wide opportunity for those who sympathise 
 with its ultimate aim — "the promotion of re- 
 ligion by the creation of a more congenial at- 
 
 ^ Report, June 1899-June 1900: "No branch of work under- 
 taken by the Lady Margaret Hall Settlements has prospered more, 
 or is more full of promise for the future, than the work among 
 invalids, crippled and defective children." 
 
 '^ Report June 1899-July i, 1900: "The house provides accom- 
 modation for 14 residents, and work can also be arranged for those 
 who are not able to live in Bethnal Green, but who are willing to 
 give a certain amount of time weekly." 
 
 X 
 
322 Present- Day Problems, 
 
 mosphere and a higher tone of morality." ^ The 
 ladies' branch, with its clubs, its parochial and its 
 charitable organisation society work, its holiday 
 undertakings, and its St Neot's Home, is a fitting 
 complement.^ On similar lines, the sister Uni- 
 versity of Cambridge conducts a vigorous agency. 
 Amongst its special features, federations of work- 
 ing-men's clubs, and developments in the regions 
 of athletics, lads' brigades, and children's country 
 holidays, may be mentioned. The most recently 
 issued report concludes with the words, "The 
 time has now come when, with increased faith in 
 our vitality, we can send out a stronger challenge 
 than ever to Cambridge men past and present 
 to help us in carrying on a work that has proved 
 its staying power and its strong foundations.^ 
 Lastly, in East London, Mansfield House, the 
 youngest of Oxford colleges, and an intellectual 
 
 ^ Report for 1899, P- 17= "It was the aim of the promoters of 
 the Settlement to undertake a social work which, by improving the 
 condition of social life, by efforts to promote healthy recreation, by 
 the endeavour to widen the intellectual interests of men and boys, 
 by banding together in a common work all who desired the im- 
 provement of the district, might strengthen and organise the forces 
 of opposition to irreligion and viciousness of life." 
 
 ''^Report for 1900 : "Our staff, resident and non-resident, has 
 grown and strengthened in numbers and in experience ; and we 
 have readily and confidently enlarged our club-enterprises ; adopted 
 fresh districts ; and served on more C.O.S. and other committees." 
 
 ^ Report for 1900. 
 
Mansfield House. 323 
 
 centre of English Nonconformity, has its Univer- 
 sity settlement. Its success has fully realised the 
 hope which inspired its formation — that it might 
 "become common ground on which men and 
 women of various classes may meet in goodwill, 
 sympathy, and friendship; that the residents 
 might learn something of the conditions of an 
 industrial neighbourhood, and share its interests, 
 and endeavour to live among their neighbours 
 a simple and religious life." By its Sunday 
 afternoon brotherhoods and Sunday union meet- 
 ings ; its public and social work ; its courses of 
 lectures, reading circles, classes, dramatic per- 
 formances, musical evenings, recreative agencies ; 
 its clubs, guilds, lodging - house, convalescent 
 home, — by these agencies, and in other ways, 
 it estabhshes touch between residents with their 
 friends, and the people of the surrounding 
 district.^ 
 
 These are typical illustrations of a kind of 
 social work, actuated by Christian motives and 
 aims, which presents features that deserve at- 
 tention. 
 
 First, the settlements referred to interpret a 
 desire whose diffusion is the best guarantee that 
 transitions to any new order, or any modifications 
 of the existing order, shall be accomplished with- 
 
 ^ Report for 1900. 
 
324 Pre sent- Day Problems. 
 
 out serious social dislocations ; the desire to bring 
 the more cultured and opulent classes into closer 
 relation to the life and needs of the industrial 
 or the poorer population. The settlements are 
 conducted on the lines of brotherhood. They 
 recognise in manhood and womanhood, apart 
 from the mere surrounding, the root and reason 
 of the true equality— the equality of the common 
 sonship to God, and of the fraternity which is the 
 outcome of this sonship. They unite residents 
 and associates in the purpose to live a simple 
 religious life, and, with singleness of mind, to 
 do what they can with what they have towards 
 the increase of the sum of happiness and virtue. 
 They remind all that ''goodness is the only 
 investment which never fails." They supply a 
 cliniqiie for those who accept goodness as the 
 investment of their life. They offer an oppor- 
 tunity of practical instruction in the great art 
 of being useful in right ways to their fellows. 
 The houses and halls are the seat of colonies, 
 planted in the denser areas of the city, with its 
 bitter cries ever ringing in their ears — its wants 
 studied, not from an armchair, but in closest 
 neighbourhood. And, in the free, frank inter^ 
 course, divested of all that savours of patronage, 
 which is established between those who have and 
 those who have not, a fusion of interests, a com- 
 
The A ii)is of Settlements. 325 
 
 munity of feeling, is realised which recalls the 
 vision of a far-past day, when they who believed 
 had all things in common. Surely, in this there 
 is a finger pointing to an era yet coming, when 
 
 " Man to man the warld o'er, 
 Shall brithers be for a' that." 
 
 Further, the London settlements, and similar 
 settlements in other cities, interpret the breadth 
 of the Christian spirit. All that is human is 
 declared to be an interest. The estate of the 
 people is reached at many points and on many 
 sides — child-life, lad-life, men's life, women's life, 
 family life. The physical, intellectual, sanitary, 
 moral aspects are all comprehended. A pro- 
 hibitory ''Don't" is not too obtrusive: the en- 
 deavour is to find the right stimulus that shall 
 counteract the wrong, to separate coarse and 
 degrading features from amusement, to make 
 things which should be lovely really attractive, 
 and to win men from evil by giving them new 
 tastes, inclinations, and affections. Benevolence, 
 in doles of charity, is not encouraged ; that which 
 is encouraged is the best form of benevolence — 
 the putting of grit into the soul, the helping 
 of persons to work out their own salvation. The 
 object is always to make effective the truth of the 
 citizenship, which, as J. H. Green says, "alone 
 
326 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 gives that self-respect without which there is no 
 lasting social order or real morality." 
 
 And yet a definite conviction, a definite highest 
 purpose, is ever present. It has been observed 
 that, in many socialistic schemes, there is a 
 scanty recognition of the spiritual and moral 
 forces. In some, there is no place for the eternal, 
 there is no room for Christ, except in so far as 
 some maxim or saying of Christ gives point to 
 a contention. Here, then, the Christian social 
 work parts from such schemes. Maintaining 
 fellowship with those who believe that new con- 
 structions of society and of industry are demanded, 
 with a view to the amelioration of social ills, those 
 who are associated in service, at all events in 
 the University Settlements and in the Christian 
 Union, hold fast the Christian faith in its es- 
 sential integrity. They hold that " it is hopeless 
 to think of founding an enduring democratic 
 State, on the principles of Liberty, EquaHty, 
 and Fraternity, unless these principles are always 
 sustained and invigorated by the divine fraternal 
 love that flows from faith in Jesus Christ." This 
 is the position assumed, and " the more," as the 
 report of the Christian Social Union puts it, **one 
 traces the history of the different attempts which 
 have been made to grapple with the misery of 
 bygone years, the more one realises how fleeting 
 
Labour Colonies. 327 
 
 in its effects — nay, how absolutely futile — all 
 social reform must be unless it is accompanied 
 step by step by the deeper influences of the 
 Christian faith." ^ 
 
 Colonies of university men and others who are 
 well to do have been described ; another and a 
 very different species of colony may be briefly 
 referred to. Workmen, sometimes in conse- 
 quence of their own ill-doing, and sometimes by 
 reason of misfortunes, are thrown out of em- 
 ployment, and the unskilled among them are 
 in danger of lapsing into vagrancy. To meet 
 this kind of distress, labour colonies in England 
 and in Scotland have been organised. The Scot- 
 tish Colony Association, though still in the day 
 of small things, has made an interesting and a 
 promising experiment. A farm in Dumfriesshire 
 was first rented and then purchased, and to it 
 are transferred men out of work, unfit for work, 
 who there, in exchange for such labour as their 
 strength permits, obtain food and shelter. The 
 new-comers may be seen, as they arrive at their 
 temporary home, emaciated and feeble. They 
 get a light task at first, and, in the measure 
 of their physical recuperation, a heavier task. 
 None are allowed to be idle ; and usually in 
 three months' time, refreshed by the pure air, 
 
 ^ Report for 1900, pp. 6, 7. 
 
328 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 invigorated by the regular exercise and the plain 
 but wholesome food, they are able to return to 
 their work, with a small bonus, earned by good 
 conduct, in their hands. On Sundays, they wor- 
 ship in the parish church of Ruthwell; they 
 meet for worship in the evening ; neighbours are 
 kind ; now and again an entertainment of an 
 innocuous character is provided. " There is no 
 degradation about all that is done, no tendency 
 to pauperisation. On the contrary, the move- 
 ment has the high aim of helping men who help 
 themselves. It prevents them from becoming the 
 slaves of crime and evil habits, and keeps them 
 employed until they are in a position to fight their 
 own individual battles." ^ As an endeavour to pre- 
 vent the *' out-of-works " from sinking to the level 
 of the loafer, to give aid in a form that inflicts no 
 injury on self-respect, and thus to lift up those 
 who are stumbling and in danger of falling, the 
 association for the development of the labour 
 colony fills a useful place in the record of 
 Christian agencies. 
 
 But the record, even in so far as that is now 
 presented, would not be complete without an 
 allusion to a ministry, unique in its conception 
 
 ^ Report of the Scottish Labour Colony Association, p. 4. " The 
 whole policy is summed up in the offer of food and shelter in ex- 
 change for work." 
 
The Salvation Amny. 329 
 
 and in its methods. General Booth, in his sketch 
 of ' Darkest England,' has said of the " Utopians, 
 the economists, and most of the philanthropists, 
 that they propound remedies which, if adopted 
 to-morrow, would only affect the aristocracy of 
 the miserable. It is the thrifty, the industrious, 
 the sober, the thoughtful, who can take ad- 
 vantage of these plans. ... No one will ever 
 make even a visible dint on the morass of 
 squalor who does not deal with the improvi- 
 dent, the lazy, the vicious, and the criminal."^ 
 These wrecks of humanity cannot be disregarded, 
 in the expectation of some future economical 
 revolution. The Church must care for those 
 who are "down in the quagmire of our social 
 life." And let all honour be given to the 
 Army which holds high the banner of God and 
 humanity in the wild hooHganism of our cities. 
 Much, in its plans and modes of campaign, may 
 seem at variance with the ideals of sober piety ; 
 but the circumstances of multitudes are such that 
 some dash, some eccentricity — something loud 
 and, to a finer taste, bordering on the grotesque 
 if not the openly irreverent — may be needful in 
 order to arouse attention and to stimulate the 
 imagination in the way by which alone it can 
 be stimulated. At all events, when we think of 
 
 ^ In Darkest England, pp. 35, 36. 
 
2,30 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 the 7560 corps, led by 13,505 officers, besides 
 40,114 local ofBcers — all fighting a battle for 
 God and righteousness in forty- seven different 
 countries ; when we remember the nearly 6000 
 social institutions, under the care of 2200 officers, 
 in addition to many others who, without any 
 rank, are wholly employed in the work ; when 
 we recall the service rendered by the Army in 
 rescuing those who have strayed from the paths 
 of virtue, and in sheltering and endeavouring to 
 lift up the down and the wretched,^ — we may 
 feel that the blessing of many who were ready 
 to perish is on it, and that He in whose name 
 it serves is saying over it, '* Inasmuch as ye 
 have done all this to the least of My brethren, 
 ye have done it unto Me." 
 
 ^ In the review of the social work of the Army during 1900, it is 
 stated that in the United Kingdom 2,463,802 meals were supplied 
 at cheap food depots, 2460 women and girls were received into 
 rescue homes, 59,718 families in slums were visited, and 45,103 
 public-houses were visited. 
 
33^ 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 EFFECTUAL CHURCH MINISTRY. 
 
 Imperfect as the review of social issues has 
 been, it has shown that, in the circumstances 
 and conditions of modern Hfe, there is an im- 
 perative call to Christian Churches to consider 
 their ways. We have seen that many of the 
 most energetic and influential developments of 
 that Hfe are not inspired by Christian motives, 
 that sometimes a positive hostility to organised 
 religious societies is expressed in them. The 
 action of the Church can be traced only on 
 parts of the surface; and the tendency un- 
 doubtedly is to withdraw wide areas of interest 
 from any spiritual reference and, apart from this 
 reference, to work out the problem of social 
 salvation. In view of this and also of the ever- 
 increasing importance of the social question, it 
 seems fitting that, before the task undertaken 
 in this volume closes, we should ask. What in 
 
^^2 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 the existing state of Christian institutions — in 
 their action, in their methods, in all that is 
 visible and evidential — is detrimental to their 
 usefulness ? What is hindering the success of 
 their mission ? What is imperilling the calamity 
 to which Christ alluded when He spoke of the 
 salt losing its savour? 
 
 The Church may be held to represent three 
 things — a faith, a society, a social propaganda. 
 Each of these constituents implies the others ; 
 but, for the purpose now contemplated, they 
 may be regarded separately though in harmony. 
 In respect of each, the inquiry proposed is, 
 How can the ministry of the Church be made 
 more fully effectual in the varied conditions of 
 the world which it is called to serve ? 
 
 I. 
 
 Christianity is the embodiment of a faith 
 " once for all delivered to the saints." The 
 communion of saints — the Church in its entirety 
 — holds this faith in trust for the good of man- 
 kind. If it has not a message that claims to 
 be received on account of its transcendent im- 
 portance, and of its ability to interpret and fulfil 
 the human life, it has, and can have, no right to 
 be heard amidst the many voices of the age. 
 
The Need of Religion. 333 
 
 If it cannot proclaim its message with a force 
 that the soul must recognise — "in the demon- 
 stration of the Spirit " — it will not be heard. 
 ''The spread of socialism," it has been affirmed, 
 ** is the token of the decline of religion." We 
 may not admit the dechne of religion. Men 
 need, and more than ever in the present time 
 are hungering for, a word which they can feel 
 to be a gospel, the revelation to them of the 
 kingdom in which their highest aspirations are 
 satisfied, and in the possession of which they 
 have the righteousness that binds man to man. 
 Of what Matthew Arnold calls religiosity they 
 are impatient, of controversies over creeds they 
 make little account ; but they crave something 
 more than political economies ; there are wants 
 which an abundance of material happiness can- 
 not satisfy. The spread of socialism may in- 
 dicate a dechne of Church authority, and a 
 growing dissatisfaction with conventional sym- 
 bols of religion, but it does not show that 
 religion itself is less necessary or is less desired. 
 Nevertheless, if the fellowship that the Church 
 offers and the ministry of this fellowship are thus 
 set aside; if there is a widespread scepticism as 
 to the ability of this fellowship and ministry to 
 express the deepest thought, and to purify the 
 most active life of the day; the situation is one 
 
334 Present- Day Problems, 
 
 of gravity for the household of faith. The 
 power of its Gospel is challenged; even the 
 claims of the Christ it declares are questioned. 
 How can this scepticism be disarmed ? It is, 
 as yet, rather a tone of mind than a body of 
 articulated opinion : how can a new confidence 
 banish the distrust ? 
 
 The answer to this inquiry takes us over the 
 entire field of spiritual, intellectual, and practical 
 activity; but the part of the answer which is 
 relevant to the matter specially in view is, that 
 the victory over all sorts of doubt and misgiving 
 will be found in the might with which the faith 
 is proclaimed, and in the signs which follow its 
 proclamation. The confidence of the Christian 
 is that the Spirit of God who dwells with the 
 Church is the witness to the Christ of God, 
 and that, according to His power working in 
 minds. He is able to do exceeding abundantly 
 above all that can be asked or thought. But 
 this confidence implies a human condition. The 
 signs " follow them that believe." There must 
 be a subjective faith in the witnessing Church 
 which receives and assimilates the objective faith 
 committed to it. The message is quick and 
 powerful when the appeal is straight to the 
 conscience, when it rightly apprehends the 
 human nature appealed to, when it is directed 
 
Uncertamties m Belief. 335 
 
 by the wisdom and the sympathy which unlock 
 the fastenings of the soul ; and if the power of 
 God unto salvation is not manifest in the dis- 
 pensation of the Gospel of the kingdom, we 
 are bound to inquire where the failure lies ? 
 what are the reasons for this limitation of the 
 Spirit of God? 
 
 One of such reasons may be an uncertainty 
 in the Church itself. For, the confused groping 
 towards new landing - places which we have 
 observed in social movements has its counterpart 
 in the Church. The more progressive intellects 
 in several Churches are uneasy in the habitudes 
 of thought to which, by their most venerated 
 traditions and by their confessions, they are re- 
 lated, and are searching for ampler spaces into 
 which they can bear the sums and substances of 
 their old beliefs, incorporating them with larger 
 apprehensions of God and of His world. Now, a 
 time in which earnest men are voyaging through 
 troubled waters in quest of new havens, in which 
 ancient orders of belief are giving place to new, 
 but these new not clearly defined, is almost sure 
 to be a time of weakened enthusiasm, of utter- 
 ance lacking in the concentrated energy which 
 lays effectual siege to the heart. Inevitably, 
 dubieties in thought are reflected in hesitancies 
 of voice. And three results follow. Sympathy 
 
33^ Pre sent- Day Problems. 
 
 with the most advanced positions partakes more 
 or less of the character of a revolt against Church 
 authority. Or again, to those whose Christian 
 life cannot be dissociated from their Church life 
 and from the things which have been most surely 
 believed, it seems as if the foundations of the 
 house of God on the earth were shaken, as if 
 even the sun, moon, and stars in the firmament 
 of faith were darkened. Or yet once more, to 
 many, unsettlements in the sphere of belief repre- 
 sent ineptitudes at which they mock, or discords 
 which they have neither the time nor the will 
 to regard. They turn away from the Church, 
 and transfer their worship to what is positive 
 and material. 
 
 Thus, an arrest is put alike on zeal and on 
 force by intellectual incertitudes in the Church. 
 But, if its teaching wants in strength, it may 
 also want in the wisdom by which the ear of 
 the generation it serves is secured. The Church 
 is not to give the truth intrusted to it away, from 
 the desire to be on good terms with critic or secu- 
 larist. Nor must it fight with armour that has 
 not been proved. Nevertheless, without yielding 
 aught of that word of the Lord which is " for 
 ever settled in heaven," it must learn, through its 
 understanding of the time, how best to speak 
 to men. It has to read out of two books of 
 
The Mmistry of the Church. 337 
 
 God, each of which sheds Hght on the other : the 
 book of the life which Hes around it, and the 
 book of the laws of the eternal life of which it is 
 the custodian. If it would rightly dispense the 
 fulness of the latter book, and indicate the 
 applications of its principles to the constituents 
 and facts of society, it must diligently study the 
 contents of the former. It must be always a 
 hearer and asker of questions, surveying life in 
 all its phases, in order that it may discern and 
 enforce the bearings of Christian truth on the 
 complex conditions of society. The region of 
 its special influence is one which the political 
 economist does not enter — man's highest uni- 
 verse, without the realisation of which his being 
 is incomplete. There is no charge more fre- 
 quently pressed against the authorised ministry 
 of the Church than that it does not hit the 
 nail on the very head; does not speak to the 
 world in the manner that commands its atten- 
 tion. This charge is not to be lightly regarded. 
 Churches may well consider whether in their 
 pulpits there is not frequently a failure in relev- 
 ance ; whether the character of the instruction is 
 not such as misses the mark in the case of many 
 with whom the world is present early and late ; 
 whether the language in which it is conveyed is 
 not that of books rather than of life, and the 
 
 Y 
 
^^S Pre sent- Day Problems. 
 
 mind is busied over matters that do not bring 
 men into touch with what they feel to be vital, 
 and do not give them really '' a lamp to their 
 feet and a light to their path." Having re- 
 gard to all the social stir and ferment of which 
 they are conscious, Christian people are bound, 
 by the obligations of loyalty to their Lord, to 
 inquire into all that mars the effect of the pre- 
 sentation of the faith, to eliminate the elements 
 which living thought can no longer assimilate 
 from the statement of Christian verity, and thus 
 to bring the statement into fuller harmony with 
 the larger perspectives of the present day. 
 
 But of all hindrances to the " free course " of 
 the faith, none is more real, none more constantly 
 quoted, than the separation between the faith as 
 professed and the life as lived of those "who 
 profess and call themselves Christians." Evi- 
 dences of Christianity cannot always be sifted ; 
 but there is an evidence which men can and do 
 sift. They test the worth of a religion by the 
 fruits in conduct which appear. They are some- 
 times unfair both to those who adhere to the re- 
 ligion and to the religion itself. The best of men 
 are only men at the best : there will be flaws in 
 the marble ; there will be inconsistencies at one 
 point or at another. And, instead of condemning 
 the religion because of the faults of those who 
 
Citrrcnts of Feeling. 
 
 JO' 
 
 acknowledge it to be theirs, the faults may prove 
 only how high the ideal is ; how, as measured by 
 its purity and holiness, imperfections and errors 
 are made only the more apparent. But it is on 
 the glaring inconsistency that multitudes lay hold. 
 They sneer at the capitalist, with his long and 
 solemn face on Sunday, and his keen, rasping, 
 grasping way on Monday ; praying for the heathen 
 abroad, but ignorant of the condition of those 
 whom he employs. They sneer at the clergy, 
 doing their statutory work, and keeping apart 
 from the sins and miseries of their fellows. They 
 point to stock exchanges and trust companies, 
 and many sorts of business, with their tricks and 
 deceits, their grinding of poor toilers, their gospels 
 of cheapness. They dwell on the gaps between 
 what is believed and what is actually done, and 
 protest that a religion that dwells on another 
 world and does not reform this, that has tides of 
 praise to God and feels not the tides of discontent 
 that are surging around, that passes by the poor 
 and defers to the rich, is not for them ; that it is a 
 clog on the wheels of progress, and is a gigantic 
 untruth. In all this, of course, there is extrava- 
 gance. But, allowing for the extravagance, we 
 may take note of the currents of feeling which 
 are indicated, currents that can only be stemmed 
 by a revived and heightened ethical life in the 
 
340 Present- Day Problems, 
 
 Church. The Church is more than an ethical 
 institute : but, though it is more, it must be 
 that ; and it must show that its hoHness is a 
 robust and an all-pervading power. The question 
 has been put, "Are there any Christians still?" 
 and it has been argued that there is nothing in 
 the practical Christianity of the day that cannot 
 be accounted for without the demand for a faith 
 in supernatural interventions and aids. Now, 
 whilst we all know those in whom the faith in 
 Christ is a spiritual and moral force, who can 
 say, '^ I live ; yet not I, but Christ liveth in 
 me," still it must be owned that the tones and 
 standards of what may be called the average 
 Christianity give some justification for the argu- 
 ment. If the Church would realise its social 
 mission, there must be an uplifting of the concep- 
 tion of the true Christian righteousness, and an 
 insistence on a more strenuous endeavour to fulfil 
 this conception. The power of Christian motive 
 must be brought to bear on business and on 
 politics. The formation of Christian Social 
 Unions, whose object is *^to claim for the 
 Christian law the ultimate authority to rule 
 social practice," is a movement in the right 
 direction. Those who enter into such unions 
 are called to prove that the law for which they 
 claim an ultimate authority is sovereign and 
 
A needed Increase. 341 
 
 supreme over their practice. We need noble 
 ** public souls " ; men and women who are them- 
 selves gospels. To develop, discipline, and 
 educate such souls is the office of the Church. 
 It represents a ''co-operation in the endeavour to 
 bring the faith of the Gospel into the council- 
 chamber and the market-place." ^ 
 
 No prayer more befits the company of faith- 
 ful people in the present day than that which 
 the apostles addressed to their Lord, *' Increase 
 our faith." The strongest in the grace that is in 
 Christ Jesus will feel most, in the face of all 
 the perplexities and difficulties by which he is 
 beset, the need of additions — of ** a more and 
 ever more." Christendom, and not least reformed 
 Christendom, needs a new day of Pentecost, 
 with '' the sound from heaven as of a rushing 
 mighty wind filling all the house." From every 
 part of the house, the appeal to the unseen 
 Lord and Head is, " Wilt Thou not quicken us 
 again, that Thy people may rejoice in Thee ? " 
 The Church may be assured that, where there 
 is apparent failure, the cause is in itself, not 
 in the Gospel of Christ. A veteran in the ser- 
 vice of God, to w^hom the truth of the incarna- 
 tion was as an anchor of the soul, has stated the 
 confidence that an experience of fifty years had 
 
 ^ WestcoU, Lessons from Work, p. 264. 
 
342 Present- Day Problems, 
 
 compacted — it is a confidence that the Church 
 can take to its heart : " I have learnt more and 
 more certainly that the Gospel of Christ is able 
 to meet the danger, and that it confirms the 
 social application of the faith which I have ven- 
 tured to call a revelation for our time. It lays 
 open the source of the danger in our forgetful- 
 ness of our divine kinsmanship ; it justifies our 
 aspirations by showing that the Son of God took 
 our nature upon Him, not to make us brethren, 
 but because we were brethren ; it brings to all 
 men one divine aim, and with that a unity of 
 life."i 
 
 II. 
 
 But the Church, whilst called to teach and 
 to preach the faith, is a society. Its social 
 character is not the consequence of a concourse 
 of minds holding "the like precious faith" — it 
 is in and of the essential and everlasting nature 
 of things. For, the Church is a fellowship, a 
 brotherhood, an election by God out of man- 
 kind, for the good of mankind, united to the 
 elect Son in whom the Father's soul delights. 
 It is an organism in vital relation to Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 The tendency of this day, as we have seen, is 
 
 ^ Lessons from Work, p. 262. 
 
The Church, a Social-Spiritual Order. 343 
 
 collectivist, not individualistic. It is towards 
 large social actions. Society is regarded as an 
 organism, comprehending an indefinite variety of 
 members, none of which are to be exploited, all 
 of which are to receive of the commonwealth, 
 on the one condition that all contribute by per- 
 sonal service to the commonwealth. In this, do 
 we not perceive the ideal which should be mani- 
 fested in the actual Church? We have traced, 
 towards the beginning of this volume, the work- 
 ing out of the ideal in the first ages of Christ- 
 ianity. We have noted that this Christianity 
 combined many of the elements of Roman im- 
 perialism with the higher imperialism of a 
 spiritual kingdom, whose nobility is that of 
 ministry, whose glory is that of sacrifice. It 
 was by the capacity of sacrifice, by the brother- 
 hood signed with the sign of the cross, that the 
 Church conquered the Roman world. It re- 
 mains to the Church in these latter days to 
 hark back to that glory, to recall that nobility. 
 Its vocation is to represent more fully to man- 
 kind the social life which is proper to it — the 
 life w^hose fundamental principle is, that the 
 good of the whole is to be distributed amongst 
 the members, and that each of the members is 
 to contribute, personally and efficiently, to the 
 good of the whole. The Church ought to be 
 
344 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 the mirror of the true spiritual order — not 
 mingling itself with the politics of party, but 
 influencing politics by the force of the example 
 that it sets, of the truth that it manifests, 
 and of the influences that proceed from this 
 example and this truth. It ought to train and 
 to give direction to the spirit of citizenship. It 
 is the witness for a citizenship which links all 
 that is active to the loftiest aspirations of hum- 
 anity, which connects the hopes of the loyal 
 and true with a kingdom of God ; and, nourish- 
 ing a genuine enthusiasm for whatsoever things 
 are just and pure and lovely and of good re- 
 port, it is, or should be, the evidence that the 
 love of God is poured out into our world by 
 the Holy Ghost whom He has given us. 
 
 But this evidence is obscured by the divisions 
 of the Church. There are unities, indeed, which 
 in some measure moderate the chills caused by 
 external separations, and, in spite of these separa- 
 tions, maintain an inward moral fellowship. In 
 the Scriptures, to which Reformed Churches 
 appeal as the supreme rule of faith and practice, 
 there is " a unity of ethical purpose which never 
 fails through age after age " ; and this, amidst all 
 varieties of constitution, is reflected in Christ- 
 endom. In the Babel - like confusion of voices, 
 we can yet distinguish one historic and con- 
 
Church Union. 345 
 
 tinuous belief. There is a unity of devotion in 
 the worship of Christians, however diversified 
 its forms may be. And, in the administration of 
 gifts by ** the self-same Spirit," God is always 
 'Mending minds out." When He speaks to any 
 soul, He speaks through it to the world - wide 
 parliament of souls. The vision of the one body 
 is never altogether lost. It can be discerned by 
 all who have the eyes to see. But it is the 
 Church in that which is most visible that attracts 
 or repels the vast majority of men ; and the exist- 
 ing condition of the Christian society, broken into 
 sections between which there are wide cleavages, 
 seems to be a denial of the one flock with the one 
 Shepherd, of the one body with the one Head. 
 Surely, not the least urgent of the lessons to be 
 read, marked, and learned from the features of 
 social hfe on which, in this volume, we have 
 dwelt, is the need — for the truth's sake, for the 
 sake of human wellbeing — of reducing to a 
 minimum the occasions of strife in the Church 
 of God, of concentrating the scattered religious 
 forces, of promoting such a unity in action as 
 shall make more effectual the motive -power of 
 Christianity. How is this to be realised ? How 
 is the desire of Christ, that all who believe in 
 Him shall be one, to have more distinct and 
 abundant fruition ? 
 
34^ Present-Day Problems. 
 
 The subject of Church union is beset by diffi- 
 culties, on which, and on the removal of which, 
 it is not within the scope of this chapter to 
 enlarge. But four points, essential to any real 
 endeavour towards this union, may be indicated. 
 
 The first is an honest determination, spread- 
 ing in the circles of Church membership and 
 becoming a pressure on Church leaders, that 
 there must be, and shall be, a fuller and 
 more explicit concord. Hitherto, unity has been 
 too much a pious sentiment. It has not marked 
 a supreme and distinct purpose. The practical 
 strength has been given to the interests of the 
 denomination : in plans, or projects, or schemes 
 of wider fellowship, men have put the denom- 
 ination before, instead of behind, them. Now, 
 there is a loyalty to the special Church flag 
 which is entitled to the respect that is due to 
 earnest conviction. But there will be no real 
 advance in the direction of union until the feel- 
 ing becomes intense, that the circumstances of 
 the time loudly call for the predominance of a 
 higher loyalty still— loyalty to Christ Himself 
 and to the world which the Church serves in 
 His name; and that this loyalty demands a 
 disengagement from the trammels of denomina- 
 tionalism, a readiness, with perfect candour, and 
 with the reverence befitting those who are wait- 
 
The Effect of fuller Communion. 347 
 
 ing on God for direction, to inquire how the 
 Christian consciousness shall best be interpreted, 
 and the Christian concert, in the work given to 
 the one body of the Lord, shall most effectively 
 be fulfilled. 
 
 Assuming that the desire for a completer 
 unity becomes an operative force in Churches, 
 a further necessity is that persons of different 
 communions shall know each other, not m a 
 mere general way, but through those intimacies 
 of conference and prayer by means of which 
 souls pierce through the outer court of the 
 ecclesiastic into the sanctuary of the Christian 
 and the man. Such knowledge thaws the ice 
 of exclusiveness, rounds the corners of sectarian- 
 ism, lets men see how like they are to each 
 other, and how much there is in each to be 
 liked by the other, makes those who have 
 hitherto dwelt apart feel at home together. 
 In every Church, there are minds so narrow in 
 their range and so stubborn in their prejudices, 
 that any platform except that which entirely re- 
 presents them will seem too broad. But, in 
 the large and charitable air ot a true, frank 
 communion of spirit and thought, the small- 
 ness of the sectary and the bitterness of the 
 fanatic vanish. In the measure in which mutual 
 regard and intelligent perception of the whole 
 
34^ Present-Day Problems, 
 
 ecclesiastical situation are promoted, the ideal 
 of the Christian society as being truly one 
 body will assume its right proportions. We 
 must be content with slow travelling in the pro- 
 motion of this knowledge. Prepossessions are 
 obstinate. Feelings which mark the scars that 
 are inherited from the past cannot at once be 
 eradicated. Love suffers long, and it has often 
 a long time in which to suffer. But it never 
 fails. Hasten slowly, it says, in getting all 
 things ready. When they are ready, the rail- 
 way speed wall come. 
 
 Probably, a development of the future that 
 will aid unity is one to which Mr A. J. Balfour 
 pointed in a thoughtful speech delivered some 
 time ago. It is that of giving ampler space in 
 Church courts and on Church arenas for open 
 questions. There are many issues, belonging to 
 government, or ritual, or national policy, which 
 might be held as open, not as articles of faith or 
 conditions of unity. Within constitutional and 
 confessional limits, and sometimes outwith these 
 limits when rigidly interpreted, all Churches make 
 room for latitudes of view. Schools of thought, 
 differing almost to the point of opposition, are 
 comprehended. May not this comprehensive- 
 ness be extended with a view to a broader fellow- 
 ship of Churches ? May not wider ranges be 
 
open Oiiestions. 349 
 
 allowed for varieties in the apprehension of 
 truth, so long as there is unity in fundamental 
 beliefs and principles ? There are topics, more- 
 over, that have formed burning questions on 
 the floor of Assembly and Synod, which, to the 
 great gain of Christian charity, might be removed 
 from their purview, and left to be dealt with as 
 questions for the individual citizen. Some re- 
 marks of Dr Robertson Nicoll, in a late number 
 of the * Liberal Review,' illustrative of this, may 
 fairly be held to represent a prevalent sentiment. 
 *' It is probable," he writes, "that the advocacy 
 of Disestablishment will become less and less 
 pronounced in ecclesiastical courts. "What is 
 done will be done by men acting in their 
 capacity as citizens. The problems of the great 
 cities have been weighing more and more on 
 the minds of Christian Scotsmen. The state of 
 the vast masses who never attend any place of 
 worship, and live in conditions practically fatal 
 to decency and morality, must be improved." 
 There is the ring at once of a true earnestness 
 and of a sweet reasonableness in these words, 
 and in the spread of this earnestness and this 
 reasonableness lie the hopes of a reconstructed 
 Church in Scotland. 
 
 They remind us, also, of a mode of union which 
 does not involve long and anxious negotiation. 
 
350 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 It is the way of practical social action. A leading 
 Scottish newspaper, commenting on Dr Robertson 
 Nicoll's article, observed, *' Certainly the Churches 
 cannot do better than unite their forces in an 
 assault on social questions."^ In such a united 
 assault there need be no interference with the 
 autonomy or the legitimate development of each 
 Church. There need not even be formal federa- 
 tion. What is wanted is merely the agreement, 
 allowing testimonies to remain where they are, to 
 make a concerted and strenuous effort towards 
 social salvation, on the basis of the common 
 Christian hope and life. Ministers and members 
 might assemble to study social needs, methods, 
 applications of the law of Christ to the complexi- 
 ties of society, to the phases of the humanity which 
 forms their prospect, and so order their forces that 
 there shall be no waste and overlapping, but dis- 
 ciplined and sympathetic movement. There are 
 many points at which the Church can come into 
 line with the best effort of the day. An example 
 may be given. Towards the close of the 'Sixties 
 in the century which has closed, under the dread 
 of cholera, congregations of all denominations in 
 Glasgow co-operated in the rectification of insani- 
 tary conditions, and the cleansing and better 
 fitting of homes. The authorities of the city 
 
 ^ The Glasgow Herald. 
 
Social Co-operation. 3 5 1 
 
 acknowledged the great service which was thus 
 rendered. Nor did the Churches themselves fail 
 to receive a benefit. What opportunities for 
 similar co - operation are presented ! '' The 
 Churches," added the newspaper referred to, 
 " might even obtain a fresh lease of power and 
 popularity." Power and popularity are not ends 
 to be sought. But the ends which the Christian 
 brotherhood is bound to seek would be attained 
 by this mutuality of moral and spiritual force. 
 The good of men would be furthered. The bene- 
 ficent character of Christianity would be vindi- 
 cated. The essential unity of the Church would 
 be manifested. The Son of man would see of the 
 travail of His soul and be satisfied. Social union 
 would help to a more visible realisation of the one 
 body — the society which Christ founded. 
 
 Ecclesiastical unions cannot be rushed. Those 
 that are called incorporating may represent a 
 loss as well as a gain — a loss in so far as they re- 
 press some characteristic expression of the Christ- 
 ian mind, or chill some special warmth of Christ- 
 ian interest. In any case, they are genuine and 
 beneficial only when they mark the growth of an 
 inner spirit of unity which had so permeated the 
 relations of the uniting bodies as to make the 
 external union, not only fitting, but inevitable. 
 Therefore, before union comes unity. And, keep- 
 
352 Present- Day Problems. 
 
 ing in view the many and the difficult problems 
 which have been previously referred to, the call 
 to social unity may well assume the form of the 
 address which Milton has put into the lips of 
 Adam when, after the fiat of expulsion from their 
 Paradise, he says to the partner in his sorrow — 
 
 " But rise ; let us no more contend, nor blame 
 Each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive 
 In offices of love how we may lighten 
 Each other's burden in our share of woe." 
 
 III. 
 
 The union of Churches in practical service 
 would give a new momentum to the social pro- 
 paganda which the commission of Christ implies. 
 He sent His Church into the world. He bade it 
 go into all the world and make disciples out of all 
 nations ; its special instrument, the Gospel of His 
 Kingdom ; its special office, to build up human 
 life in the truth of His Kingdom by the diffusion 
 of the Gospel, with all the influences that are 
 proper to it, and in all the ways by which effect 
 can be given to it. The Church, as has been 
 pointed out, is necessarily aggressive and neces- 
 sarily social. It is itself a social state, and it is 
 called to realise the laws and blessings of its 
 sociality in the civic society which forms its en- 
 
The Issue pressing on Churches. 353 
 
 vironment. How, in more adequate manner, to 
 accomplish its vocation, how to regenerate and 
 enrich mankind, is the issue on which a more 
 truly united Church would bestow the force of its 
 most enlightened zeal, and its most competent 
 intellectual and practical force. 
 
 It is the issue that is pressing on the Churches 
 of Great Britain. The men of greatest influence 
 in the Church of England are keenly alive to the 
 need of more freedom in its constitution, of 
 more variety in its services, of more flexibility 
 in its agencies, of a more distinct place and work 
 for its laity. A refreshing illustration of the 
 liberality of view that may distinguish a High 
 Churchman is supplied in the earnestness with 
 which the new Bishop of Worcester (Canon Gore) 
 has called the attention of English Churchmen to 
 some of the distinctive features of the constitution 
 and ministry of the Scottish Church. The Free 
 Churches in England also recognise that the 
 social conditions and wants of the day impose 
 on them the obligation to recast many of their 
 agencies. In Scotland, there is a marked ad- 
 vance in the same direction. The reports of 
 the Church of Scotland's Commission on the 
 Religious Condition of the People may be quoted 
 in evidence. 
 
 In the flrst of these reports (1891), the Com- 
 z 
 
354 Present-Day Problems. 
 
 mission, after saying that ''no better system for 
 the planting of practical Christianity in every 
 part of the land could be devised than the par- 
 ochial or territorial system, if it is sufficiently 
 and efficiently applied," proceeds : " But the 
 increase of the population, and the ever-growing 
 intensity and manifoldness of life, make it im- 
 perative to readjust the machinery and to supply 
 additional motive-power, if the work aimed at is 
 to be really done. The one minister for one 
 parish is in many cases inadequate. The ministry 
 must be multiplied. It is not stone and lime 
 that is needed, — here and there, of course, it 
 is needed; it is not further division and sub- 
 division of territory, — here and there that too 
 is needed ; but, speaking generally, it seems to 
 the Commission that the most urgent want is 
 more labourers, and more variety in the form 
 of the labour." And four types of ministry are 
 indicated — parish missionaries ; lay evangelists, 
 "who might come to the people with more of 
 the vernacular and the plain homespun than the 
 stated pastorate with the assistance of licenti- 
 ates, living in the midst of the people, and doing 
 the work of a soldier of the cross in square and 
 slum ; " women as deaconesses, sisters, nurses ; 
 and special mission preachers, helping ''to deepen 
 and quicken the life of congregations, and thus 
 
Commission on Condition of People. 355 
 
 also to strengthen the aggressive work of the 
 Church." 
 
 In the reports of successive years, rural and 
 city populations — the miner, the fisherman, the 
 farm-labourer and his bothy, the female worker 
 in fields, as well as the different elements in the 
 town, are included in the view ; elasticities of 
 operation are suggested, and the changes are ever 
 rung on the note, "The Church cannot confine 
 its labours to any one phase or side, even the 
 loftiest, of the complex life which it is called to 
 influence. It must comprehend that life in its 
 breadth, and length, and depth, and height." ^ 
 
 The statements of the Commission are cxhibi- 
 tive of the trend of all Church life in Scotland. 
 
 Three points in this trend may be noticed. 
 The first, an increasing desire to make the house 
 of God more attractive and hospitable ; to ex- 
 press more heartily a welcome to all, the poorest 
 equally with the richest ; to wipe out the re- 
 proach which an earnest Glasgow philanthropist 
 expressed, ** Great masses of the population of 
 Glasgow look upon the Church as something 
 for ministers, or something to be made out of 
 them, and not as something to be given them." - 
 The second, to develop, not mere agency, but 
 the contact of person with person, in all effort 
 
 ^ Report, 1892. '^ Ibid. 
 
35^ Present- Day Problems, 
 
 for the uplifting and amelioration of social con- 
 ditions. And the third, to call forth all the best 
 energy and vitality of the Church ; to utilise these 
 in their resourcefulness, not for the purpose of ad- 
 ministering mere temporary aids, but for the per- 
 manent improvement of estate, and the permanent 
 blessing of the life. More and more the words 
 spoken by Norman Macleod, -nearly fifty years 
 ago, are accepted as a rule of action : '* Let 
 congregations take cognisance of the whole man 
 and his various earthly relationships ; let them 
 seek to enrich him with all Christ gave him ; let 
 them endeavour to meet all his wants as an 
 active, social, intellectual, sentient, as well as 
 spiritual being, so that men shall know through 
 the ministrations of the body, the Church, how 
 its living Head gives them all things richly to 
 enjoy." ^ 
 
 Great and high and holy is the work thus given 
 to the Church. The harvest is plenteous; may 
 the labourers, drawing nearer to each other, 
 and toiling in harmony with all who aim at 
 the betterment of life, be inspired by the love 
 which '* abounds in knowledge and in all judg- 
 ment ! " A recent encyclical of the Pope con- 
 cludes with the sentence, *' We have heard enough 
 of the rights of man, let us hear more of the rights 
 
 ^ Memoir of Norman Macleod, D.D., vol. ii. p. 8. 
 
The F2dfilment of the Church's Mission. 357 
 
 of God." But between the rights of man and 
 the rights of God there is no opposition ; they are 
 misconceived and misstated on the one side or on 
 the other, when there seems to be conflict. The 
 good of man is the glory of God. The right of 
 man is his portion in God. Amidst all the 
 agitations and the apparent dissonances of the 
 society whose phases, whose problems, whose 
 sorrows, and whose aspirations we have re- 
 garded, those who listen for the voice of wisdom, 
 *' watching daily at its gates and waiting at the 
 posts of its doors," can hear the inextinguishable 
 cry of the soul for God, the Everlasting Righteous- 
 ness ; and to reveal God to man and reconcile 
 man to God, in righteousness, is the fulfilment of 
 the social mission of the Church. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Abstinence from alcoholic liquor, 
 
 176. 177. 
 Acts of the Apostles quoted, 58, 
 
 59- 
 
 Alexander, King of Scots, 108. 
 
 Alimentations, 72. 
 
 Altruism, 296, 297. 
 
 Ambrose of Milan, 109 note. 
 
 'American (North) Review' re- 
 ferred to, 137. 
 
 Anabaptists of Munster, 223. 
 
 Anarchism, 263. 
 
 Aquinas, Thomas, quoted, 83 — 
 referred to, 91. 
 
 Aristocracies, old and new, 207, 
 208. 
 
 Aristotle quoted, 6 — influence of 
 writings, 84 — referred to, 302. 
 
 Arnold, Matthew, quoted, 51. 
 
 Arnold, Dr T., 203. 
 
 Asia Minor, 61, 70. 
 
 Assembly, First General, 123. 
 
 Athanasius quoted, 35, 36. 
 
 Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, re- 
 ferred to, 109 note. 
 
 Augustine, head of Roman mission 
 to England, 102, 106. 
 
 Aveling, Dr, 211. 
 
 Baboeuf, Caius Gracchus, 198 and 
 
 note, 212, 222. 
 Bakunin, Michael, 263. 
 Balfour, Right Hon. A. J., referred 
 
 to, 348. 
 
 Barbarians — ' 
 
 On the frontier of Roman Em 
 pire, 70, 71. 
 
 Their respect for Christianity, 
 78. 
 
 The shaking of their unities, 82. 
 Bax, Belfort, 269. 
 Bell, Sir James, referred to and 
 
 quoted as to Glasgow, 185, 
 
 188. 
 Benedict, St, and his order, 91, 
 
 92. 
 Bentham, Jeremy, 201. 
 Bernard, St, quoted, 91. 
 Blanc, Louis, 199. 
 Booth, Charles, quoted, 147, 149, 
 
 165, 171. 
 Booth, General, quoted, 317, 329. 
 Bossuet quoted, 92, 93. 
 Bourgeoisie, the, 212. 
 Bread Riots, 205. 
 Bright, Right Hon. John, referred 
 
 to, 186. 
 Brissot, M., referred to in 4 note. 
 Brotherhood, the beginning of the 
 
 Christian, 57, 58. 
 Browning, E. B., quoted, 22, 189. 
 Bruce, the late Professor, referred 
 
 to, 22 — quoted, 30, 38. 
 Bryce, Right Hon. J. H. ('Holy 
 
 Roman Empire'), quoted, 79 
 
 note. 
 Building societies in U.S.A., Aus- 
 tralia, Great Britain, 190, 191. 
 
Inde: 
 
 'X. 
 
 59 
 
 Calvin, John, quoted, ii6, 117 
 
 and note. 
 Capital, 246-253. 
 Capitalists, 247. 
 Carlovingian dynasty, 80. 
 Carlyle, Thomas, quoted, 286, 
 , 287. _ 
 
 Carnegie, Andrew, quoted, 293. 
 Celtic Church, 105, 106. 
 Chalmers, Dr, referred to, 128— 
 
 quoted, 132 and note — his work 
 
 in relief of poor in Glasgow, 151- 
 
 154 — referred to, 313. 
 Chamberlain, Right Hon. J., 
 
 quoted, 147 note— referred to, 
 
 158, 161 note. 
 Charity — 
 
 Sums annually expended by so- 
 cieties, 168. 
 
 Distribution of, indescribable, 
 168. 
 
 Hurtful influence of much, 168. 
 
 Organisation of, needed, 169. 
 Charlemagne, 80. 
 Chartist riots, 205. 
 Children and street-hawking, 210. 
 Christianity, causes of progress of, 
 
 64-66. 
 Christian Social Union Settle- 
 ment Report quoted, 318, 320 
 
 — aim of Union, 340. 
 ("hrysostom, John, (luoted, ']']. 
 Church, Dean, quoted, 15, 60. 
 Church, The Christian — 
 
 An essential factor in civilisation, 
 10-12. 
 
 The word, how understood, 12, 
 
 13- 
 
 Social vocation, 16. 
 
 In what sense an election, 34- 
 
 38. 
 Condition when Constantine's 
 
 Edict was published, 70. 
 The type of life which it devel- 
 oped, 71-73. 
 Its social influence in the fourth 
 
 century, 74. 
 Its efforts among Goths and 
 
 other tribes, 77. 
 Relation to Roman Empire, 
 
 78. 
 Theories as to Church and State, 
 
 81, 82. 
 
 Its aspect and work in tlic Middle 
 
 Ages, 82, 83. 
 Growth of tares, 96. 
 Diversities in unity, 97-99. 
 Uniformity in rule insisted on, 
 
 99, 100. 
 Frictions and schisms in, loi, 
 
 102. 
 A society mirroring a spiritual 
 order, 342-352. 
 Civilisation, the three features of 
 Christian, i— early periods of, 4. 
 Clergy and progress, 311, 314. 
 Coleridge, S. T., referred to, 199, 
 
 204. 
 Columba, St, and his monks, 105. 
 Commercial life, 289, 290. 
 Commissions — 
 
 (Royal on Licensing Laws), ma- 
 jority and minority reports, 
 179— minority report, 181-183. 
 (General Assembly on Religious 
 Condition of the People), re- 
 ferred to, 314 — quoted, 353- 
 
 355- 
 
 (Glasgow Presbytery and Hous- 
 ing of Poor), referred to, 314. 
 Competition, 253-255. 
 Comte, Auguste, 296. 
 Conscience, a social, Christ's pur- 
 pose to create it and His method, 
 
 31, 32. 
 Constantine the Great, 75. 
 Co-operation, 255-257. 
 
 In production, 256. 
 
 In distribution, 256, 257. 
 
 Societies and membership, 256, 
 257 and note. 
 Craik, Sir Henry, ciuoted, 152 note, 
 
 313 note. 
 Cranmer, Archbishop, 116. 
 Crusades, influence of, 84 note, 
 
 88. 
 Cunningham's ' Churcii History of 
 
 Scotland ' quoted, 108. 
 
 Dante quoted, 92. 
 
 D'Aubigne^, Merle, quoted, 117, 
 
 118. 
 David, King of Scots, 107. 
 Davidson, Thomas, quoted, 274- 
 Decentralisation, a desideratum as 
 
 to housing, 193. 
 
360 
 
 Index, 
 
 Discipline, Second Book of, quot- 
 ed, 118. 
 Discontent, social, 266-268. 
 Divisions in Church, 344, 345. 
 Dominic, St, and his order, 91. 
 Duns Scotus referred to, 91. 
 
 ' Ecce Homo' quoted, 49 and 
 
 note. 
 Economics, relation to ethics, 9, 
 
 10. 
 * Edinburgh Review ' quoted, 202, 
 
 301. 
 Egaux, Society of, 212. 
 Election, the right meaning of 
 
 term as applied to the Church, 
 
 34-38. 
 Eliot, George, referred to, 297, 
 
 298. 
 Emerson, R. W., quoted, 207. 
 Employers' Liability Act, 157. 
 Encyclopaedists, French, 198. 
 Endowment Scheme, 129-131. 
 Equality, passion for, 264, 265, 
 Eremites, 89. 
 Essenism, 89, 222. 
 Ethic, of Christ, 23 — * of Free 
 
 Thought ' quoted, 261 note, 273 
 
 — of the day, 301. 
 Evangelism and philanthropy, 317. 
 ' Expansion of Christian Life,' 
 
 book referred to, 70 note. 
 
 Fabian Society, 211 — tracts of so- 
 ciety quoted, 227, 236, 253, 254, 
 270. 
 
 Factory and Workshops Acts, 
 220. 
 
 Fairbairn, Principal, quoted, 105, 
 123 note. 
 
 Faith— 
 The faith of the Church, 332- 
 
 334. 
 
 Subjective, 334. 
 
 Uncertainties as to, 335, 336. 
 
 Separation between faith and 
 life, 338, 339. 
 
 Increase of, 341, 342. 
 Fellowships of antiquity, 40. 
 Feudalism, 85— Church influence 
 
 and attitude, 87-89. 
 Flint, Professor, quoted, 219, 229, 
 
 277. 
 
 Foresters' societies referred to, 
 
 161. 
 Fourier, M., 199, 222. 
 Free Churches in England referred 
 
 to, 353- 
 Freeman, Professor, quoted, no. 
 Friendly societies referred to, 161. 
 
 Geddes, Professor Patrick, 295. 
 
 George, Henry, quoted, 238, 241. 
 
 'Gesta Christi' quoted, 'j'j, 88. 
 
 Giffen, Sir Robert, quoted, 148. 
 
 Glasgow — 
 
 Services in poorhouses, 162, 
 Model lodging-houses, 185, 186. 
 Farmed houses, 186. 
 One-roomed houses, 186. 
 Ticketed houses, 186, 187. 
 Efforts of corporation of, 187. 
 
 Gore, Bishop of Worcester, quot- 
 ed, 83, 301 — referred to, 353. 
 
 Graham, Rev. H. Grey, quoted, 
 
 313. 
 Graham's, Sir James, Act, 129. 
 Greek democracy, 198 and note. 
 Green, J. H., 204, 325, 326. 
 Greg, W. R., quoted, 222, 223. 
 Guizot, M., referred to, ir, 
 Guthrie, Dr Thomas, 313. 
 
 Hallam, H., quoted, 80. 
 
 ' Handy - Book for Guardians of 
 
 Poor' quoted, 163. 
 Harmonists, 222. 
 Headlam, Rev. Stuart, 211. 
 Hebrew morality, 24, 25. 
 Hegel quoted, 174, 175. 
 Hegelianism, 200, 204. 
 Helps, Sir Arthur, quoted, 53. 
 Helvetius referred to, 201 note. 
 Henry HL, King of England, 
 
 108. 
 Henry VHI., King of England, 
 
 103, 104 note, 113. 
 ' Herald, Glasgow,' quoted, 350, 
 
 351. 
 
 Hermas quoted, 59. 
 
 Herzen, Alex., quoted, 276. 
 
 Hilary (' De Trinitate') quoted, 
 41. 
 
 Hildebrand, Gregory VTL, 8r. 
 
 History, its office, 53, 54 — ecclesi- 
 astical, repels, why? 55, 56. 
 
Index, 
 
 361 
 
 Hobson, J. H. (* Ruskin as Social 
 Reformer'), quoted, 214, 215. 
 
 Hooker, Richard, quoted, 12, 13. 
 
 Housing of poor, 184-190. 
 
 Hughes, Judge, referred to, 205. 
 
 Hutcheson, Professor, referred to, 
 201 note. 
 
 Hiixley, Professor, quoted, 141, 
 142, 166. 
 
 Hyndman, H. M., 211. 
 
 ' Ibsen and Bjornsen ' (by George 
 Brand) quoted, 304, 305. 
 
 Incarnation, the, 40-50. 
 Its witness for the solidarity of 
 
 mankind, 45. 
 The value which it puts on life, 
 
 47. 
 Individual, the, the unit, i, 2. 
 Intemperance — 
 Percentage of poverty due to it, 
 
 171. 
 Expenditure on alcoholic liquors, 
 
 172. 
 Counter - attractions to public- 
 houses, 183. 
 lona, 104. 
 Irenseus quoted, 47. 
 
 Jerusalem, 60, 61. 
 Jesus, the Christ — 
 
 His Jewish environment, 16, 
 
 17- 
 
 The originality of His teachmg, 
 
 20, 21. 
 His Sermon on the Mount, 23- 
 
 27. 
 His calling of men, 27, 28. 
 His prospect, 29, 30. 
 His ethical plan, 31, 32. 
 His intercessory prayer, 39. 
 His personality unicjue, 21. 
 The Christian apprehension of, 
 
 42. 
 His sacrifice and its power, 48- 
 
 50. 
 Faith in the living, and what it 
 
 nourishes, 50, 51. 
 Johnson, DrS., quoted, 104. 
 Johnston, Sheriff, quoted, 112, 
 
 Judaism, disengagement of Christ- 
 ianity from, 60. 
 
 Justinian, Emperor (Code and In- 
 stitutes of), 75. 
 
 Kaufman, H., 225. 
 Kentigern or Munghu, 104. 
 Kingdom of God, the divine order, 
 
 32 — its two abiding features, 34. 
 Kingsley, Charles, 205. 
 Knox, John, his scheme for Church 
 
 revenue, 124. 
 Krapotkin, Prince, cjuoted, 140 
 
 note. 
 
 Labour — 
 
 Churches, 278, 
 
 Colonies, 327, 328. 
 
 Leagues, 211. 
 
 Question, 229. 
 
 Manual, measure of value, 231- 
 
 233- 
 
 Whole produce of, claimed as 
 due to labourer, 233, 237. 
 
 Increase of opportunity for la- 
 bourer, 248, 249. 
 Lacordaire, Pfere, referred to. 11. 
 Lady Margaret Hall, work at, 
 
 321. 
 Laissez faire, 219. 
 Lang, Andrew, quoted, 122 note. 
 Lnssalle, Ferdinand, 199 and note, 
 
 200, 
 Laveleye, M. de, quoted, 265. 
 Leckie, W. H., quoted, 208, 209. 
 Leroux, Pierre, 197 note. 
 Liquor traffic, 178-180. 
 Local Government Board reports, 
 
 148, 149— reports quoted, 154, 
 
 155, ^58. 
 
 Lodge, Professor, cjuoted, 253. 
 
 Loomis, S. (' Modern Cities'), re- 
 ferred to, 139, 168. 
 
 Lowell, J. R.. quoted, 285. 
 
 ' Lux Mundi ' quoted, 48. 
 
 Mably, M., referred to, 4 note. 
 
 Mackenzie, Professor J. S., quot- 
 ed, 7 note, 25, 303. 
 
 McKinley, late President, message 
 quoted, 144. 
 
 Macleod, Rev. Dr Norman, re- 
 ferred to, 313— quoted, 154, 356. 
 
 M'Neill.Sir John, evidence quoted, 
 
 156. 
 
362 
 
 Index. 
 
 Mallock, W. H., quoted, 8, 297. 
 Malthus referred to, 139. 
 Margaret, Queen, 106, 107. 
 Marriage, early and improvident, 
 
 141, 142. 
 Maurice, Rev. T. D., 205. 
 Marx, Karl, referred to, 199 and 
 
 note — quoted, 200, 217, 231 and 
 
 note, 232, 233, 247. 
 Melbourne, Lord, referred to, 204. 
 Mendicant Orders, Franciscan, 85. 
 Middle Ages, 83-87. 
 Mill, James, 201, 203. 
 Mill, J. S., quoted, 7, 43, 219, 245. 
 Milton, John, 306— quoted, 352. 
 Moderates, the, and their social 
 
 service, 313 and note. 
 Mommsen (historian) referred to, 
 
 71 note, 76. 
 Monachism — 
 
 Spread of, 89, 90. 
 
 Decline and corruption, 92, 93. 
 Monastery and its influence, 90, 
 
 91. 
 Monks and their service, 91, 92. 
 Montalembert, Count de, quoted, 
 
 91-93- 
 Moravians referred to, 223. 
 Morley, John, quoted, note 157, 
 
 158. 
 Mormons referred to, 222. 
 MulhallC Dictionary of Statistics'), 
 
 145, 168. 
 
 Nationality of Church of England, 
 102-104. 
 
 Nationality of Church of Scot- 
 land, 105-108. 
 
 Neander quoted, 55, 
 
 Nero, Emperor, his accusations, 
 69. 
 
 Newcastle, Bishop of, quoted, 183. 
 
 Nicene Creed, 40. 
 
 Nicoll, Dr Robertson, quoted, 
 349- 
 
 Ninian, St, 104. 
 
 Old age pensions, 158, 159. 
 Old men, 158. 
 
 Owen, Robert, 197 note, 206. 
 Owenites, 222. 
 
 Papacy, growth of, 78-82. 
 
 Paraguay, Jesuits in, 222. 
 Parishes — 
 Division and endowment of, no, 
 
 III. 
 Quoad sacra, 129. 
 Number of, in England at Re- 
 formation, 113. 
 Number of, in Scotland at Re- 
 formation, 114. 
 Parochial economy, origin and 
 
 growth of, 109- 1 13. 
 Parsons, Mr (Chicago), referred 
 
 to, 264. 
 Pater, Walter, quoted, 44. 
 Paton, J., Esq. (Glasgow), referred 
 
 to and quoted, 185-187. 
 Paul, Apostle— 
 The special theatre of his action, 
 
 61. 
 His missionary circuits, 62. 
 His blending of Greek and Ro- 
 man thought, 62, 63.. 
 Peel, Viscount, referred to, 181. 
 Pentecost, day of, 57, 58. 
 Pepin, Patrician of the Romans, 
 
 80. 
 Persecutions of Christians, why? 
 
 66-69. 
 Peruvians referred to, 222. 
 Peter, Apostle, chair of, 79 — 
 
 treasury of, 83. 
 Plato, 222. 
 ' Plea for Liberty ' (book) quoted, 
 
 159. 160. 
 Pliny the Younger, his testimony, 
 
 66. 
 Pope, encyclical of, 356. 
 Population, rapid increase of, and 
 
 problems, 138-143. 
 Poverty — 
 Appalling prevalence of, 145, 146. 
 Pauper element in population, 
 
 147-149. 
 F'auperism decreasing in Eng- 
 land and Scotland, 149. 
 Poor Law, 150, 151 — amended, 
 
 220. 
 Administration of funds for poor 
 prior to the Poor Law, 152 
 note. 
 Casual and habitual paupers, 
 
 156. 
 Estimates of poverty, 165, 166. 
 
Index. 
 
 363 
 
 Praemunire statute, 103. 
 Priestley, J., leferred to, 201. 
 Principles — 
 
 Their necessity to the continu- 
 ance of a society, 39, 40. 
 
 The principles of Christian hu- 
 manitarianism, 40. 
 Proletariat, 228, 272. 
 Propaganda^ 
 
 Socialistic, 261. 
 
 Social, of Church, 352-357. 
 Property in land, 241 — theories as 
 
 to, 241, 242. 
 Proudhon, M., referred to, 199 — 
 
 quoted, 218, 219, 237, 263. 
 
 Quincey, T. De, quoted, 174. 
 
 Rae, John ('Contemporary Social- 
 ism '), quoted, 217, 264, 266, 
 276. 
 
 Ramsay, Professor \\'. M., 65, 69 
 note, 71 note, 73 note, 76. 
 
 Rappists (sect), 216. 
 
 Rebaud, Louis, 197 note. 
 
 Reformation of Church, 113, 115- 
 118. 
 
 Regulars (clergy) and their social 
 work, 91, 92, 
 
 Renan, E., cjuoted, 22, 265. 
 
 Reunion of Christendom, 119. 
 
 Ricardo, S., 230. 
 
 Rights of man, 4, 5. 
 
 Robertson, Professor James, 129- 
 
 131- 
 Robertson, Rev. Dr A., referred 
 
 to, 313. 
 Roman Empire — 
 
 Contact of Christianity with, 61. 
 
 Facilities which it gave for the 
 spread of the Gospel, 64, 65. 
 
 Influence of its organisation on 
 Church, 78, 79. 
 
 Democracy of, 198. 
 
 Holy Roman Empire, 80. 
 Rome, impression made on Goths, 
 
 n, 78. 
 
 Romulus Augustus, 79. 
 
 Rousseau, J. J., 4. 198. 
 
 Rowntree and Sherv/ell ('The 
 Temperance Problem and Social 
 Reform '), referred to and quot- 
 ed, 172-184. 
 
 Ruskin, John, quoted, 56 — referred 
 to or quoted, 143, 285, 286, 294, 
 295- 
 
 Sacrifice, power of Christ's, 48-50. 
 
 Saint-Simon, M., 199, 309, 310. 
 
 Salisbury, ^Iarquis of, quoted, 
 218. 
 
 Salvation Army, its social work, 
 329, 330. 
 
 Schatfie, Dr (' Quintessence of So- 
 cialism '), referred to, 225— quot- 
 ed, 226 and note, 227, 244, 259. 
 
 Scotland, condition of, at Refor- 
 mation, 120, 121. 
 
 Scottish Church and Scottish life, 
 125, 126. 
 Testimony concerning, 127. 
 
 Selborne, late Earl of, m. 
 
 Seldcn (' History of Tithes') quot- 
 ed, 110-112. 
 
 Shakers (sect), 216. 
 
 Shakespeare quoted, 259. 
 
 Shebbeare, C. J., quoted, 198. 
 
 Sidgwick, Professor, quoted, 302. 
 
 Sig^smund, Emperor, proclama- 
 tion, 89. 
 
 Smith, Adam, referred to, 230. 
 
 Social Democratic Federation, 211. 
 
 Social ethical trends, 284-307. 
 
 Social life necessary to completion 
 of the individual, 6, 7. 
 
 Social mission of Church, fulfil- 
 ment of, 357. 
 
 Socialism — 
 
 Its protests, 196, 197. 
 
 The genesis and significance of 
 
 term, 197. 
 History of theories of, 198-200. 
 Philosophical preparation for it 
 
 in Great Britain, 200-204. 
 Social and industrial circum- 
 stances which disposed to it, 
 205-210. 
 Socialistic organisations, 210-2 1 2. 
 Socialism and democracy, 212, 
 
 215. 
 Socialism and communism, 215- 
 
 217. 
 Socialism and social effort, 217- 
 
 219. 
 Socialism and extension of .State- 
 powers, 219-221. 
 
364 
 
 Index, 
 
 Variety of form, 222. 
 Modern, its appeal, 223, 224. 
 Characteristic positions of, 225- 
 
 253. 
 Proposed substitute for compe- 
 tition, 253-259. 
 Moral and religious aspects of, 
 
 260-278. 
 Hostility to Church and clergy, 
 274, 275. 
 Socialist Continental programmes, 
 
 215. 
 Socialist League, 211. 
 Society — 
 
 Civic, one of the three constitu- 
 ents of civilisation, 7. 
 Civic, interesting for the sake of 
 
 the unit, 8. 
 Christian, constitution of, 33. 
 Sociology, 8-10. 
 Spence, Thomas, quoted, 241. 
 Spencer, Herbert, 239, 240. 
 Stahl, H., 212. 
 
 Stanley, Dean, quoted, 62, 63. 
 Stephen, Leslie, referred to, 203 
 note. 
 
 Taylor, Isaac, quoted, 65, 66, 
 Temperance reform — 
 
 Progress of, 174, 175. 
 
 Division in ranks of reformers, 
 180, i8r. 
 Tennyson, Lord, quoted, 21, 
 
 304. 
 Tillet, Mr Ben, quoted, 159. 
 Tithes, history of, 109-111. 
 Tocqueville, De, referred to, 207 
 
 — quoted, 214, 215, 264, 265. 
 Tolstoy, Count Leo, 298, 299. 
 
 Doctrine, 300. 
 
 Disciples, 300, 301. 
 Toynbee, Arnold, 295, 318. 
 Toynbee Hall, 319. 
 
 Transport, cheap, for workmeri, 
 193- 
 
 Union, Church — 
 
 Four points essential to, 346- 
 
 ^ 352. 
 
 Unity before union, 351. 
 Union, trades, 251, 252. 
 Unionism, New, 212. 
 United Kingdom, wealth of, 144, 
 
 145- 
 United States of America — 
 
 Wealth of, 144. 
 
 Democratic constitution, 213. 
 
 Fraternities, 216. 
 University Settlements — 
 
 Toynbee, 318-320. 
 
 Oxford House, 321, 322. 
 
 Cambridge, 322. 
 
 Mansfield House, 322, 323. 
 
 Features of Settlements, 323-327. 
 
 Wages, 233, 235. 
 
 Wagner, Professor, quoted, 265. 
 
 Watson, William, quoted, 307. 
 
 Wealth- 
 Ethics of, 288. 
 Waste of, 291. 
 Responsibility for, 293. 
 What wealth is, 294, 295. 
 Of Church at Reformation, 123 
 124. 
 
 Westcott, Bishop of Durham 
 quoted, 14, 224, 283, 341, 342. 
 
 William the Conqueror, 102. 
 
 Winchester, Bishop of, quoted, 
 170, 
 
 Witchcraft, and cruelties perpe- 
 trated on supposed witches, 
 312. 
 
 Wordsworth, William, referred to, 
 199. 
 
 Working Men's Association, 211. 
 
 i'RlNTEU bY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS. 
 
w 
 
 1.'-. 
 
 ■A.