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RELIGIOUS    SYSTEMS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE    WORLD 
 
"  A  new  Catholicity  has  datvucd  vpon  the  ivorld.  All  religions  are  now  recog- 
 nised as  essentially  Divine.  They  represent  the  different  angles  at  luhich  man 
 looks  at  God.  Questions  of  origin^  polemics  as  to  evidences.,  erudite  dissertations 
 concerning formiilcc,  are  disappearing,  because  religions  are  no  lofiger  judged  by 
 their  supposed  accorda?ice  with  the  letter  of  the  Bible,  but  by  their  ability  to  min- 
 ister to  the  wants  and  fulfil  the  aspirations  of  men.  The  individtial,  what  can 
 it  make  of  him  ?  As  it  raises  or  debases',  purifies  or  co7-rupts,  fills  with  happiness 
 or  torments  wit Ji  fear,  so  is  it  judged  to  accord  with  the  Divine  will.  The  cre- 
 detitials  of  the  Divine  origitt  of  every  i-eligio7i  are  to  be  foiind  in  the  hearts  and 
 li7'es  of  those  who  believe  it.  The  old  intolerance  has  disappeared,  and  the  old 
 indifferetice,  which  succeeded  it,  has  well-nigh  disappeared  also.  The  new  toler- 
 ance of  faith  recognises  as  Divine  all  the  ci'eeds  which  ha7<e  enabled  men  to 
 0%'ercome  their  bestial  appetites  with  visions  of  things  spiritual  and  eternal." 
 —Universal  Review,  December,  1888. 
 
V 
 
 RELIGIOUS    SYSTEMS 
 
 OF 
 
 /-.. 
 
 ."4    »^1 
 
 THE    WORLD 
 
 a  Contribution  to  tbc  Stu^\:  of  Comparative  IRclioion 
 
 A   COLLECTION    OF   ADDRESSES 
 
 Delivered  at  South  Place  Institute 
 
 NOW  REVISED  AND   IN   SOME  CASES  REWRITTEN   BY  THE   AUTHORS, 
 TQC.ETHER   WITH   SOME   OTHERS   SPECIALLY   WRITFEN    FOR   THIS   VOLUME 
 
 SECOND    EDITION,    WITH    SEVERAL    NEW    ARTICLES 
 
 Hontion 
 
 SWAN    SONNENSCHEIN    &    CO. 
 
 NEW  YORK  :  MACMILLAX  &  CO. 
 
 1892 
 
BL:Tt.ER  &  Tanner, 
 
 The  Selwood  Printing  Works, 
 
 Frome.  and  London. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 '■'  In  proportion  as  we  lo^'C  inithmore  and  victory  less,  we  shall  become  anxious  to  kntr.vtvliat  it  is 
 ivliich  leads  our  opponents  to  think  as  they  do.  IVe  sliall  be^in  to  suspect  tluit  the  pertinacity  0/  belie/ 
 exhibited  by  them  must  result  from  a  perception  0/  something  we  Itavc  not  perceived.  Ami  we  shall  aim 
 to  supplement  the  Portion  0/  truth  wc  have  found  tuith  the  portion  f mind  by  them." — Herbert  Spencer. 
 "  First  Principles,"  part  of  §  3. 
 
 This  volume  is  published  in  response  to  requests  from  numerous  friends 
 who  desire  to  have,  in  a  permanent  form,  the  Lectures  deHvered  on  Sun- 
 day afternoons  at  South  Place  Institute,  during  188S-89  and  1891,  on 
 "Centres  of  Spiritual  Activity,"  and  "  Phases  of  Religious  Development." 
 
 The  Lectures  were  first  designed  to  e.xplain  and  illustrate  the  different 
 Religious  Movements  of  the  day,  for  though  most  thinking  persons  are 
 fully  persuaded  of  their  own  belief,  they  are  often  unable  to  understand 
 the  standpoint  of  others  equally  earnest,  and  thus  fail  to  do  justice  to 
 men  of  different  creeds.  After  the  current  divisions  of  Christianity 
 and  Modern  Ethical  Philosophies  had  been  treated,  it  was  thought  that 
 Ancient  Religious  Systems  might  also  be  profitably  studied  in  the  same 
 manner,  especially  as  the  general  public  have  very  little  opportunity  of 
 becoming  acquainted  with  them,  and  not  unfrequently  mistake  their  mere 
 accidents  for  their  spirit  and  substance. 
 
 Some  of  the  Lecturers  have  been  so  kind  as  to  re-write  their  essays 
 for  this  volume,  while  the  articles  on  the  Religion  of  Egypt,  Shintoism 
 (second  article),  Zoroastrianism,  Religions  of  Ancient  Greece  and  Rome, 
 Hittites,  Quakers,  Irvingism,  and  Evolution  have  been  specially  written 
 for  the  present  edition. 
 
 The  willingness  with  which  the  various  Lecturers  have  come  forward, 
 without  fee  or  reward,  to  speak  on  his  or  her  special  topic,  to  audiences  not 
 always  sympathetic — in  some  cases  at  the  risk,  almost  certainty,  of  offending 
 their  own  co-religionists — and  the  sympathy  expressed  by  several  eminent 
 men,  who  from  various  causes  were  unable  to  take  a  personal  part  in  the 
 course,  have  been  very  encouraging  to  those  who  organized  the  series  of 
 lectures. 
 
 That  a  publication  of  this  kind  meets  a  distinct  want  is  clearly  shown 
 by  the  fact  that  the  first  edition  was  exhausted  within  a  few  months  of 
 issue.  It  is  hoped  that  the  present  work  will,  owing  to  its  greater  com- 
 pleteness, be  even  more  widely  appreciated.  It  is  pubUshed  simultaneously 
 in  England  and  America. 
 
 WM.    SHEOWRING,  \         Hon.  Sees. 
 CONRAD  W.  TRIES,  J  Instittite  Committee- 
 
Some  Opinions  of  the  Press  on  tlie  First  Edition. 
 
 "  From  an  interesting  volume  just  published  by  Messrs.  Swan  Sonnenschein  &  Co. 
 much  of  interest  may  be  learned  regarding  the  different  religious  systems  that  are  in 
 vogue  in  the  different  countries  of  the  globe.  Each  system  is  treated  by  a  specialist,  and 
 thus,  far  from  exhibiting  the  faultiness  sometimes  apparent  in  such  works,  the  volume 
 treats  the  subject  in  question  with  a  comprehensiveness  and  an  accuracy  that  render  the 
 pages  both  interesting  and  instructive." — Ct/y  Press. 
 
 "  They  give  collectively  such  a  view  of  the  religions  of  the  world  as  has  not  hitlierto 
 been  attainable — a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  field  which  will  enable  even  the  reader  with 
 little  time  at  his  disposal  to  appreciate  the  relations  of  the  various  systems,  and  to  form 
 some  intelligent  conception  of  what  is  involved  in  the  study  of  comparative  religion."  — 
 Birvtiiighain  Daily  J'ost. 
 
 "A  remarkable  contribution  to  the  literature  of  religious  thought." — Manchester 
 Guardian. 
 
 "  A  remarkable  compendium  on  religions  which  will  well  repay  study." — Liverpool 
 Post. 
 
 "While  on  the  subject  of  the  Church  and  her  clergy,  let  me  recommend  to  you  a 
 book  which  is  as  significant  as  it  is  interesting  and  opportune,  "  Religious  Systems  of  the 
 World."— T)-////;. 
 
 "Will  prove  very  agreeal)le  and  instructive  reading." — Ncwbeiy  House  Magazine. 
 
 "  The  volume  is  full  of  interest  and  instruction." — Christian  IVorlJ. 
 
 "  Valuable  and  fascinating." — Litoary  World. 
 
 "  As  a  contribution  to  a  more  reasonable  method  of  arriving  at  truth,  this  collection  of 
 addresses  will  be  welcomed  by  the  serious  mind.  Its  contents  are  unequal,  liut  in  many 
 chapters  we  are  given  the  essence  of  much  thought  and  research.  To  the  religious 
 student  wiio  wishes  to  understand  the  wide  questions  of  the  origin  and  developments  of 
 religion  itself  the  book  will  be  especially  useful.  There  is  no  other  that  we  know  of 
 which  has  been  compiled  in  exactly  the  same  representative  way  ;  and  the  South  Place 
 Institute  has  more  than  justified  its  existence  by  the  issue  of  such  a  volume." — Jnquirer. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PART    I.— PRE-CHRISTIAN 
 
 Thk  Ec.yptian  Rpxigiox 
 
 TiiK  Religion'  of  hie  IIiTTrrr.s 
 
 The  Religion  ok  Bahylonia 
 
 Thk  Religion  ok  Assyria  . 
 
 Ancient  Judaism. 
 
 The  Religion  ok  China     . 
 
 Taoism 
 
 The  Religions  ok  Japan    . 
 Shintoism  (i) 
 
 Shintuism  (2)         .        .        . 
 Hinduism      .... 
 Old  Indian  Poetry,  Etc.    . 
 Buddhism      .... 
 Buddha  and  Buddhism 
 Buddhism  in  China    . 
 Zoroastrianism    . 
 The  Parsi  Religion    . 
 Mithraism    .... 
 The  Greek  and  Latin  Religio: 
 The    Inkluence   ok    Paganism 
 
 tianity    .... 
 The  Slavonic  Religion 
 Teutonic  Heathendom 
 Muhammadanism  . 
 SiKHISM  .... 
 
 SUKfiSM 
 
 Badiism  .... 
 
 The  Religions  ok  Ancient  Amekic.\ 
 
 NS 
 ON    C 
 
 AND  NON-CHRISTIAN. 
 
 .     Professor  C.  P.  Tieh;  D.D 
 
 Thomas  Tyler,  M.A.        . 
 .      ly.  St.  Chad  Bosca-ven 
 
 Canon  George  Rau<littsoti 
 .     Rev.  A.  \V.  Oxford    . 
 
 Professor  James  Leggc 
 .     F.  H.  Balfour     . 
 
 C.  Pfoundes 
 
 Dagors  Con 
 .     Isabella  Bird  (Mrs.  Bishop) 
 .     Sir  Alfred  Lyall 
 .     Mrs.  Frederika  Macdonald 
 .     Professor  T.  IV.  Rhys-David, 
 
 Mrs.  Frederika  Macdonald 
 
 Professor  Samuel  Beal 
 .     L.  H.  Mills,  D.D.      . 
 
 Hon.  Dadabhai  Naoroji 
 
 John  M.  Robertson 
 .     Rev.  Sir  G.  IV.  Cox,  Bart.,  M.A 
 
 HRIS- 
 
 C.  F.  Keary 
 
 J  J'.  R.  Morjill     . 
 Professor  F.  York  Powell,  M.A. 
 G.  IV.  Leitner,  LL.  D. 
 Frederic  Pincott 
 E.  G.  Bro7vne     . 
 E.  G.  Broivne     . 
 John  M.  Robertson 
 
 PART   II.— CHRISTIAN,   TIIEISTIC,  AND   PHILOSOPHIC. 
 The  Armenian  Church      .        .        .        .     F.  C.  Conybeare,  M.A. 
 
 The  Greek  Church  . 
 The  Russian  Church. 
 The  Church  Catholic 
 
 N.Orloff,  M.A.. 
 
 N.  Orloff,  M.A 
 
 B.  F.  C.  Costelloc,  M.A. 
 
 VAr.K 
 
 3 
 10 
 
 15 
 26 
 
 61 
 
 76 
 
 92 
 
 99 
 102 
 112 
 126 
 142 
 
 '52 
 166 
 180 
 184 
 194 
 216 
 
 246 
 260 
 27S 
 292 
 
 314 
 333 
 354 
 
 379 
 405 
 
 418 
 
 442 
 
Vlll 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 TnK  Mass 
 
 .     B.  F.  C.  CostcUoc,  M.A.     . 
 
 The  Religion  of  Dante 
 
 .     Oscar  Browning,  M.A. 
 
 Ol-D  Ca THOI-ICISM  .... 
 
 .     Rcv.R.  S.  Oldham,  M.A.  . 
 
 Thk  Church  ok  England   . 
 
 Canon  ShiUtlcworth,  M.A. 
 
 XONCONFORMirV     
 
 .    J.  Allamon  Picton,  M.A.,  M.P. 
 
 Prf.shytekianism  .... 
 
 .     Rev.  David  Fotheriitghaiii  . 
 
 Independency      
 
 .     Rrj.  Edward  White,  D.D. 
 
 The  Baptists 
 
 .     Rev.  John  Clifford,  D.D.    . 
 
 The  Quakers 
 
 .      William  Pollard 
 
 MKTnODlS.M 
 
 .     Mrs.  Sheldon  Amos 
 
 Ikvincism      
 
 .     Rev.  Edward  Miller,  M.A. 
 
 The  Unitarians  .... 
 
 .     Rev.  Henry  W.  Crosske}-,  LL.D, 
 
 Theism 
 
 Rev.    Charles   Voysey,  B.A. 
 
 Myshcism 
 
 .     W.  S.  Lilly        .... 
 
 Theosophy 
 
 .     Mrs.  Besant       .         .         .         . 
 
 SWEUENIiORGIANISM 
 
 .     Rev.  Thomas  Child    . 
 
 The  Mormons       .... 
 
 .     Elder  J.  H.   Atiderson 
 
 The  Jews  in  Modern  Times 
 
 .     Professor  D.  W.  Marks 
 
 Jewish  Ethics      .... 
 
 .     Rev.  I\Iorris  Joseph 
 
 .Spinoza 
 
 .     Sir  Frederick  Pollock,  Bart.  ,M.A. 
 
 The  Religion  of  Nature  (Rousseau; 
 
 .     Mrs.  Fredcrika  Macdonald. 
 
 Humanity 
 
 .     Frederic  Harrison 
 
 The  Religious  Aspects  ok  Skepticis 
 
 M       .     Rev.  John  Chven,  M.A. 
 
 The  Evolution  Theory 
 
 .     Miss  Bevini^ton  .         .         .         . 
 
 The  Ethical  Movement     . 
 
 .     Dr.  Stanton  Coit 
 
 SECULARIS.M 
 
 .     G.  W.    Foote       .         .         .         . 
 
 A  National  Church    . 
 
 .     Arthtir  W.  Htitton,  M.A.  . 
 
 Inde.x 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 462 
 
 520 
 
 559 
 575 
 585 
 594 
 602 
 620 
 
 631 
 640 
 652 
 657 
 683 
 
 69s 
 709 
 
 724 
 
 739 
 
 752 
 768 
 
 787 
 794 
 S06 
 S20 
 
PART  1. 
 PRE-CHRISTIAN    AND    NON-CHRISTIAN. 
 
 VOL.    I. 
 
Reijgioiis  Systems  of  tiir  World. 
 
 THE    F.GYPTIAN    RELIGION. 
 
 Bv  C.   P.  Tikij:,   D.D.,   LL.I). 
 
 Professor  of  the  History  and  Philosophy  of  Religion  in  the 
 Unn^ersity  of  Leiden. 
 
 When  tlie  student  turns  his  attention  to  the  Religion  of  the  Ancient 
 Egyptians,  lie  is  at  once  confronted  with  the  disputed  question  as  to  its 
 essential  character.  'J'iie  discovery  of  Chanipollion  enabled  his  pupils  and 
 their  successors  to  advance  from  the  scanty  notices  of  the  (ireek  classical 
 writers  and  the  fragments  of  Manetho,  to  the  study  and  elucidation  of  the 
 original  Egyptian  sources  ;  and  as  these  sources  multiplied,  much  new  light 
 was  shed  upon  the  nature  of  the  Religion.  But,  as  usually  happens  in 
 such  cases,  the  niore  this  knowledge  increased,  the  more  clearly  did  its 
 limitation  appear,  and  the  more  questions  remained  imsolved.  When  the 
 student  consults  the  works  of  the  Egyptologists,  he  still  finds  himself 
 com[)ened  to  choose  between  two  diametrically  opposite  theories.  The 
 advocates  of  the  one  vievv  see  in  the  Egyptian  Religion  what  amounts  to 
 a  jjure  monotheism,  exhibiting  itself  through  the  manifestly  silly  or  even 
 barbaric  forms  of  a  multiform  polytheism,  with  the  loftiest  ideas  hidden 
 like  a  pure  gem  in  the  crude  shell  of  magical  arts  and  symbolical  notions. 
 Tlie  advocates  of  the  other  view  see  in  it  a  religion  which  is  still  really 
 barbaric,  animistic,  and  therianthropic,  and  to  which  priests  and  scribes 
 endeavoured  to  give  a  mystical  sense — a  sense  not  understood  by  the  people, 
 and  one  which  left  the  superstitious  practices  undisturbed.  Both  views 
 are  maintained,  with  great  knowledge  and  talent,  by  celebrated  scholars  ; 
 and  they  are  supported  by  texts  which  seem  to  prove  completely  those 
 different  positions.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  existence  of  a  certain  contra- 
 diction in  the  bosom  of  the  Egyptian  Religion  cannot  be  denied  ;  nor  can 
 it,  in  my  opinion,  be  satisfactorily  explained  by  either  of  these  views. 
 Even  if  we  could  acce[)t  as  a  fact  the  existence  of  such  a  pure  and  lofty 
 religion  in  ])re  historic  times,  it  yet  appears  to  me  inconceivable  that,  just 
 as  the  civilization  of  the  people  increased,  their  religion  should  of  itself,  and 
 without  any  accessory  causes,  have  degenerated  into  such  a  gross  fetishism 
 and  into  such  silly  sorcery,  accompanied,  as  it  was,  by  senseless  formulas, 
 which  those  who  muttered  them  did  not  themselves  understand.  And 
 still  less  can  I  suppose  that  such  a  sublime  conception  of  God,  and  such 
 
 3 
 
4  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 outpourings  of  religious  feeling  as  not  a  few  texts  unquestionably  give 
 evidence  of,  could  have  been  developed  out  of  so  decidedly  an  animistic 
 form  of  worship,  as  the  Egyptian  must  originally  have  been,  solely  under 
 the  influence  of  a  rich  but — in  the  main — materialistic  civilization.  AVe 
 are  therefore  compelled  to  regard  the  Egyptian  Religion,  as  it  appears  in 
 history,  as  presenting  the  fusion  of  two  heterogeneous  elements,  and  as 
 liaving  arisen  out  of  the  mixmg  of  two  very  differently  endowed  races.  In 
 otiier  words,  the  National  Religion  of  Egypt  was — and  continued  to  be — 
 a  genuine  Nigritian  polydaemonism,  with  wliich  a  ruling  minority  (belong- 
 ing to  races  which  came  from  Asia  in  pre-historic  times,  and  which  became 
 the  ruling  class)  tried  to  unite  their  own  purer  religious  ideas  by  giving  to 
 that  polydaiinonisui  a  mystic,  symbolical  meaning.  It  is  only  by  this 
 hypothesis  that  the  otherwise  apparently  insoluble  contradictions  in  the 
 EgyjJtian  Religion  can  be  satisfactorily  explained. 
 
 Among  the  older  aboriginal  elements  must  be  reckoned  two  things  which 
 were  specially  characteristic  of  the  Egyptian  Religion,  viz.,  the  Worship 
 of  Animals,  and  the  Worship  of  the  Dead,  especially  dead  Kings.  Worship 
 of  Animals  has  been  found  to  be  very  common  in  antiquity,  and  among 
 barbarous  and  uncivilized  jjeoples.  But  it  nowhere  reached  such  a  height 
 as  in  Egypt,  'I'lie  animals  worshipped  were  those  which  were  distinguished 
 by  extraordinary  qualities,  real  or  imagined,  and  regarded  as  evidencing 
 magical  power ;  those  which  were  specially  feared  or  valued  ;  and,  above 
 all,  those  which  were  supposed  to  stand  in  a  certain  mysterious  connection 
 with  the  origin  of  all  life  and  prosperity  in  Egypt — the  periodic  overflow  of 
 the  Nile.  Every  tribe  and  district,  every  place  and  family,  had  its  own 
 sacred  animal ;  but  certain  animals— the  bull,  the  crocodile,  the  cat,  the 
 hippopotamus,  and  others — were  for  special  reasons  very  generally  wor- 
 shipped. Originally  nothing  but  fetishes,  which  they  continued  to  be  for 
 the  great  majority  of  the  worshippers,  they  were  brought  by  the  doctrinal 
 expositions  and  by  the  educated  classes  into  connection  with  certain  par- 
 ticular gods,  and  thus  came  to  be  regarded  as  the  terrestrial  incarnation 
 of  these  gods. 
 
 The  Worship  of  the  Dead  and  of  the  Dead  Kings,  took  the  foremost 
 place  in  the  Religion  of  Egypt.  Nowhere  has  there  been  so  much  care 
 bestowed  on  the  construction  and  ornamentation  of  tombs,  and  on  the 
 preservation  of  the  bodies  of  the  dead,  nor  so  much  treasure  applied  to 
 these  purposes,  as  in  Egvpt.  Of  all  the  magical  texts,  the  most  sacred  and 
 cherished  were  those  which  were  collected  in  the  so  called  Book  of  the 
 Dead  ;  and  so,  too,  the  nK)st  sacred  and  precious  rites  were  those  which 
 had  reference  to  embalming  and  entombing,  or  to  the  life  after  death.  In 
 its  origin  the  care  of  the  detd  was  as  animistic  as  the  worship  of  animals, 
 and  at  first  it  had  no  other  aim  than  to  provide  for  them  security  from  their 
 persecutions  or  ijunishments,  by  making  them  want  for  nothing  even  in 
 the  grave,  and  arming  them  against  the  terrible  demons  of  the  kingdom 
 of  darkness.     And  so  much  were  these  demons  feared,  that  the  individual 
 
THE   EGYPTIAN   RELIGION.  5 
 
 even  in  his  lifetime  took  care  to  be  secured  against  them  by  the  provision 
 of  a  strong  tomb  and  rich  endowments.  But  even  these  usages,  to  which 
 the  people  remained  so  much  attached  from  no  higher  motive  than  the  one 
 indicated,  had  a  deeper  meaning  gradually  given  to  them  by  the  priests 
 and  the  more  cultivated  members  of  the  community.  Myths  which  arose 
 independently,  and  from  which  the  worship  of  the  dead  certainly  cannot 
 have  sprung,  were  closely  attached  to  it  ;  and  mystical  union  with  a  dying 
 and  living  god  became  the  pledge  of  the  survival  of  the  individual,  to 
 which  certain  moral  requirements  were  afterwards  added  by  the  doctrine 
 of  retribution. 
 
 To  the  non-African  elements,  on  the  other  hand,  belong  the  oldest  chief 
 myths  of  Kgypt:  those  of  Osiris  and  of  Re  or  Ra,  of  which  the  former  were 
 localized  at  Abydos,  and  also  in  some  places  of  Northern  Egypt,  and  the 
 latter  especially  at  Anu  (On)  or  Heliopolis.  They  soon  came  to  be 
 moulded  into  a  certain  whole  by  the  priests  of  the  latter  place,  and  they 
 constitute  the  religious  basis  of  the  eschatology.  They  are  forms  of  well- 
 known  myths  which  are  found  among  many  nations  of  antiquity  :  one  of 
 the  light  and  dark,  two  beneficent  and  dreaded  brothers,  representing  the 
 alternation  of  the  seasons,  the  struggle  between  fertility  and  sterility  in 
 nature,  between  cultivation  and  rude  strength  in  society,  and  transferred 
 in  its  ultimate  form  to  the  first  human  beings  and  the  oldest  social  union  ; 
 the  other  of  the  god  of  light,  victorious  over  the  serpent  of  darkness,  and 
 ever  reviving  after  a  temporary  overthrow. 
 
 Within  our  limited  space  we  cannot  give  an  extended  description  and 
 explanation  of  these  myths,  nor  an  enumeration  of  the  principal  gods 
 of  the  Egyptian  mythology.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  Osiris,  who,  after  being 
 killed  by  his  brother  Set,  is  avenged  by  his  son  Horos,  but  does  not  return 
 to  the  world  of  the  living,  becoines  the  god  of  the  dead,  par  excellence, 
 the  sovereign  of  the  Kingdom  of  the  Dead,  with  whom  every  dead  per- 
 son identified  himself.  Traces  of  his  former  more  general  significance 
 may  still  be  often  found,  after  the  restriction  of  his  domain  to  the  other 
 world ;  but  they  only  become  prominent  when,  during  the  last  centuries  of 
 Egypt's  existence,  he  becomes  again  the  highest  god.  Ra,  on  the  contrary, 
 the  father  of  gods  and  men,  and  as  such  the  first  ruler  on  earth,  becomes 
 more  and  more  the  national  god  of  Egypt,  with  whom  in  the  course  of 
 time  all  the  principal  gods  of  Egypt  are  identified. 
 
 This  dill  not,  however,  take  place  before  the  Egyptian  Religion  had  passed 
 through  several  centuries  of  development.  At  the  outset  there  cannot 
 have  existed  anything  like  unity  in  this  religion.  Different,  albeit  kindred, 
 cults  existed  in  comparative  independence  alongside  of  each  other ;  and 
 it  was  only  where  a  powerful  lord  succeeded  in  uniting  several  provinces 
 into  one  kingdom,  over  which  he  held  the  sovereignty,  that  the  principal 
 god  of  his  seat  of  government  became  the  sovereign  of  the  local  gods,  the 
 latter  being  grouped  around  the  former  as  his  relatives  and  courtiers.  The 
 same  thing  took  place  when  the  two  great  kingdoms  of  Upper  and  Lower 
 
6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Egypt  were  founded,  and  again  when  these  two  were  united  under  one 
 sceptre.  It  is  true  that  Ra  and  Osiris,  with  the  gods  of  their  circle, 
 remained  the  general  national  gods,  and  the  chief  towns  of  their  worship, 
 Heliopolis  and  Abydos,  sacred  cities  par  excellence ;  but  in  the  official 
 cult  the  principal  god  of  the  residency  had  the  priority,  and  the  other 
 divinities  of  the  most  important  centres  were  placed  side  by  side  with 
 him  in  his  temple,  or  in  other  sanctuaries,  as  his  subordinates.  During  the 
 Ancient  Empire,  which  flourished  under  the  first  six  dynasties,  this  place 
 was  held  by  Ptah  of  Memphis,  the  forming  or  creating  god,  with  whom  the 
 Greeks  compared  their  Hephcestos.  During  the  Middle  Empire,  which 
 reached  its  culminating  point  under  the  twelfth  dynasty,  this  place  was 
 held  by  Sebak  or  Sovku,  the  crocodile  god — hence  a  Nile-god — who,  intro- 
 duced from  the  south,  got  his  imperial  temple  in  or  near  the  labyrinth 
 within  the  region  which  had  been  lately  watered  by  canals,  the  Fayuni 
 (sea-land).  During  the  New  Empire,  beginning  with  the  eighteenth  dynasty, 
 the  chief  god  was  Amun  of  Thebes.  Later  on,  certain  gods  from  the 
 I>elta,  especially  Neith  of  Sais,  were  elevated  to  the  highest  rank,  aUhough 
 they  never  obtained  the  same  amount  of  honour.  And  by  the  side  of  these 
 gods  of  the  reigning  dynasty  certain  famous  ancient  gods  were  considered 
 as  their  ec^uals  :  such  as  Chnum,  the  architect,  the  god  of  the  cataracts, 
 who  shapes  man  on  his  potter's  wheel,  and  was  worship[)ed  in  more  than 
 one  place  as  the  Creator;  Thot  (Dhuti),  the  god  of  the  moon,  wiio  had 
 become  the  god  of  time,  of  writing,  of  the  word,  and  consequently  the 
 special  god  of  the  priests ;  Hathor,  whose  cult  was  so  widely  spread  that 
 her  name  was  also  used  for  "goddess"  in  general,  as  Horos  was  used  for 
 "god";  and  several  others.  The  ignorant  multitude  were  not  scandalized 
 by  this  abundance  of  supreme  gods,  every  one  of  which  was  declared  by 
 his  priests  to  be  the  god  of  gods.  But  the  more  cultivated  and  thoughtful 
 members  of  the  community  could  find  no  satisfaction  in  it.  An  explana- 
 tion must  needs  be  sought ;  and  it  was  found  in  the  doctrine,  which  slowly 
 developed  itself  and  soon  became  generally  adopted,  that  all  these  princi- 
 pal gods  were  ditferent  revelations  or  shapes  of  the  highest  god  Ra,  and 
 his  name  was  added  to  theirs. 
 
 With  this,  however,  all  the  contradictions  were  not  yet  resolved.  It  was 
 only  the  higher  gods  that  could  be  considered  as  shapes  of  Ra  ;  but  what 
 of  many  hundreds  of  others  ?  Polytheism  has  always  a  tendency  to 
 multiply  itself.  Where  there  are  many  gods  the  number  of  them  ever 
 goes  on  increasing,  whether  as  personifications  of  phenomena  hitherto 
 unnoticed  or  unappreciated,  or  as  protectors  of  new  inventions,  trades,  and 
 customs,  or  as  local  genii  of  spots  where  an  important  event  had  taken 
 place.  Such  was  the  case  everywhere  in  antiquity.  Besides,  in  Egypt  the 
 extended  intercourse  with  foreign  nations  under  the  New  I-lmpire,  and  the 
 settlement  of  foreign  tribes  in  the  valley  of  the  Nile,  caused  the  pantheon 
 to  increase  largely  by  the  introduction  of  new  gods.  At  the  same  time  an 
 always  stronger  striving  after  monotheism  revealed  itself.    How  were  these 
 
THE  EGYPTIAN  RELIGION.  7 
 
 two  tendencies  to  be  combined  ?  How  were  the  priests  to  justify  the 
 belief  in  so  many  gods  and  the  continuance  of  their  worship,  if  they 
 talked  of  one  god,  as  they  often  did  ?  This  was  effected  in  different 
 ways.  The  many  gods  were  names  of  the  One  God,  or  his  revelations, 
 or  his  numerous  members  created  by  himself.  Thus  monotheism  was 
 maintained  in  theory  ;  but  as  no  limits  were  assigned  by  it  to  polytheism, 
 and  the  right  of  the  latter  to  existence  was  recognised,  it  remained  with- 
 out any  practical  result  for  the  popular  religion. 
 
 At  this  point  the  development  of  the  Egyptian  Religion  stopped.  At 
 least  one  effort  to  take  the  decisive  ste[)  of  introducing  monotheism  as  the 
 religion  of  the  State,  failed  most  completely.  I  refer  to  King  Amenothes 
 IV. 's  reformation,  over  which  great  light  has  been  shed  through  documents 
 recently  found  ;  but  the  sudden  growth,  rapid  victory,  and  as  rapid  sup- 
 pression of  the  effort  leaves  much  which  puzzles  us.  It  seems  to  have 
 originated  in  the  school  of  Heliopolis,  where  the  king  was  already  a  priest 
 before  his  accession,  a  title  which  he  always  continued  to  bear.  Envy 
 of  the  haughty  priesthood  of  Amun-Ra  at  Thebes  may  have  contributed 
 to  it ;  for  the  members  of  that  priesthood,  which  eclipsed  all  others,  had 
 caused  high  priestly  offices  at  the  oldest  and  most  venerable  centres  to 
 be  occupied  by  their  sons  and  favourites,  and  of  the  revenues  destined 
 for  the  cult  out  of  the  State  treasury  (in  this  case  the  royal  treasury)  they 
 devoured  no  less  than  three-fourtiis.  Perhaps,  too,  the  young  prince 
 longed  to  free  himself  from  the  tyrannical  authority  which  the  priests  of 
 the  capital  exercised  over  the  king.  However  it  was,  no  sooner  had  he 
 succeeded  his  father  than  he  founded  a  temple  at  Thebes  for  the  Helio- 
 politan  god,  whose  worship  had  been  growing  during  the  last  years  of 
 Amenothes  III.,  and  which  the  young  prince  wanted  to  introduce  as  the 
 only  one  recognised  by  the  State.  This  god  was  the  sun-god,  commonly 
 known  by  the  name  of  Aten-Ra  (Ei'n-Re),  the  sun-disk,  though  he  also 
 worshipped  him  under  other  names.  Soon  after,  whether  urged  on  solely 
 by  fanatical  zeal,  or  incited  by  resistance,  he  is  no  longer  to  be  restrained. 
 He  builds  for  himself  a  new  capital,  near  the  present  el-Amarna,  with 
 one  single  temple  for  his  god,  calls  it  after  him,  Chu-t-aten  (soul  of  the 
 sun-disk),  changes  his  own  name  into  Chu-n-aten,  demands  an  exclusive 
 worship  of  Aten-Ra,  leaves  the  detested  Thebes,  and  persecutes  the  service 
 of  Amun-Ra  especially  with  merciless  zeal.  Wherever  he  can  he  causes 
 the  name  of  this  god  to  be  erased,  his  images  to  be  destroyed,  his  sanc- 
 tuaries to  fall  to  ruins  like  those  of  all  the  other  gods.  He  does  not 
 tolerate  images  of  the  divinity  any  longer ;  his  own  god  alone  may  be 
 represented  by  a  symbol.  If  he  experienced  opposition — which  is  very 
 probable  — it  proved  powerless.  Chu-n-aten  carried  out  his  reformation, 
 and  maintained  it  during  his  reign.  Such  was  the  power  of  the  king  in 
 Egypt,  of  the  son  of  the  sun,  the  representative  of  the  divinity  on  earth. 
 But  not  long  after  his  death,  it  appeared  that  the  greater  part  of  the  nation 
 had  yielded  only  to  violence.      He  had   no  sons  to  succeed  him,   only 
 
8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 sons-in-law.  But  one  of  them  was  overcome  by  the  reaction,  which  now 
 set  in  with  force,  and  was  converted  to  Amun-Ra.  And  he  who  was 
 chosen  by  the  priests  of  Amun,  in  order  as  king  to  re-estabHsh  the  old 
 order  of  things,  was  that  same  Har-em-hebi,  who,  either  under  Chu-naten 
 himself  or  under  one  of  his  sons-in-law,  had  been  a  zealous  votary  of 
 Aten-Ra,  as  commander-in-chief  of  the  army  and  chief  governor  of  the 
 kingdom,  and  second  only  to  the  king.  The  royal  reformer  had  over- 
 stepped the  mark.  Perhaps  monotheism,  introduced  in  another  manner, 
 and  not  imposed  by  mere  compulsion  and  authority,  might  have  been 
 slowly  received,  at  least  by  the  more  civilized  classes,  and  even  been 
 diffused  in  Egypt ;  but  this  would  only  have  been  possible  if  it  had 
 attached  itself  to  the  mighty  service  of  Amun,  and  required  worship  of  this 
 god  only.  Yet  even  this  can  only  be  regarded  as  possible,  not  as  probable. 
 The  Egyptian  Religion  was  composed  of  too  widely  different  elements  for 
 a  perfect  unity  to  arise  from  them,  and  neither  of  its  two  chief  elements 
 was  powerful  enough  to  quite  eliminate  the  other.  It  has  not  been  able  to 
 rise  higher  than  the  semi-pantheistic  speculation  of  the  Theban  school. 
 
 If  we  were  called  upon  to  characterize  the  Egyptian  Religion  in  a  few 
 words,  we  should  call  it,  both  as  a  system  and  as  a  cult,  an  almost  mon- 
 archical polytheism  in  a  theocratic  form.  The  I-'.gyptian  polytheism  was 
 not  purely  monarchical,  for  there  were  several  divine  monarchies;  and  only 
 by  the  somewhat  arbitrary  doctrine  that  all  the  chief  gods  were  in  reality 
 the  same  under  different  names,  could  the  semblance  of  monarchy  be 
 maintained.  But  this  religion  was  undoubtedly  theocratic  in  the  strictest 
 sense  of  the  word.  The  divinity  himself  reigned  through  his  son,  the 
 absolute  king,  his  incarnation  and  representative  on  earth.  The  priest- 
 hood of  Amun,  strengthened  by  its  victory  over  the  heretic,  and  by  the 
 measureless  wealth  which  the  munificence  of  successful  conquerors  poured 
 into  its  lap,  had  attained  the  most  tremendous  power  in  the  State  ;  and 
 when,  after  a  long  time,  its  members  had  reduced  the  kings  to  weak  tools 
 in  their  hands,  and  succeeded  at  last  in  usurping  the  throne  itself,  the 
 theocracy  was  altered  in  form  only,  but  not  in  its  essence.  The  place 
 of  the  King-highpriest  was  taken  by  the  Highpricst-king.  But  even  this 
 change  was  of  short  duration.  Against  another  power  no  less  favoured 
 by  the  kings  of  the  new  empire,  the  power  of  the  army  (composed  for  the 
 greater  part  of  hired  foreign  troops),  the  priestly  princes  proved  unable  to 
 keep  their  ground.  They  had  to  leave  the  country,  and  in  Ethiopia  they 
 founded  a  new  sacerdotal  kingdom.  Still  the  rule  of  the  kings,  who 
 sprang  from  this  military  revolution,  was  purely  theocratic. 
 
 But  this  only  characterizes  the  form  of  the  Egyptian  Religion.  If  we 
 search  for  the  leading  thought,  contained  in  all  its  myths  and  symbols, 
 and  in  all  its  institutions  and  ceremonies,  it  may  best  be  comprised  in  the 
 word  "life."  "  For  millions  of  years  "  is  a  constantly  recurring  expression. 
 The  sign  of  life  {ankli)  is  the  holiest  and  the  most  commonly  used  of  all 
 the  symbols.     The  gods  bear  it  in  their  hands,  hold  it  to  the  lips  of  their 
 
THE   EGYPTIAN  REIJGION.  9 
 
 worshippers,  and  pour  it  out  in  streams  over  the  heads  of  their  favourites. 
 For  they  actually  give  life,  now  by  the  light  which  they  continually  cause  to 
 triumph  over  the  powers  of  darkness,  again  by  the  regular  recurrence  of 
 the  fructifying  waters,  or  by  mysterious  operations  in  the  centre  of  the 
 earth.  And  hence  they  set  such  store  on  the  possession  of  the  lawful  king. 
 He,  the  son  of  the  sun,  was  the  living  pledge  that  these  blessings  should 
 not  cease.  His  coronation  was  an  agricultural  festival,  the  beginning  of 
 the  harvest ;  his  greatest  care  was  to  spread  the  waters  of  the  Nile  through 
 canals  as  far  as  possible  over  the  fields.  From  this  arose  also  their  great 
 fear  of  deatii  and  eternal  darkness,  and  the  efforts  and  sacrifices  which  they 
 made  to  secure  an  eternal  existence,  either  in  the  fertile  land  of  Osiris,  or 
 as  a  follower  of  the  god  of  light,  and,  as  it  is  put,  "  to  obtain  the  crown 
 of  life." 
 
 Fntirely  swayed  by  these  ideas,  the  Egyptian,  although  his  religious 
 thinking  did  not  stand  still,  clung  to  the  existing  state  of  things  with  an 
 unequalled  persistency.  Although  not  scorning  new  and  strange  things, 
 he  did  not  relinquish  what  was  old.  He  may  have  connected  different 
 ideas  with  it  ;  l)ut  the  holy  texts  which  he  muttered  during  the  Ptolemean 
 era  were  often  the  same  as  those  his  ancestors  had  uttered  at  the  altars 
 and  the  tombs  more  than  thirty  centuries  ago.  The  nature  of  the  land 
 which  bore  and  fed  him  had  imprinted  a  peculiar  stamp  on  his  religion. 
 Moreover,  his  religion  became  to  him  more  and  more  the  only  thing  of 
 supreme  value.  Treasures,  the  fruits  of  his  industry,  and  all  the  skill 
 which  was  the  product  of  his  remarkable  civilization,  he  spent  on  the 
 building  and  the  decorating  of  his  tombs  and  temples.  Those  of  Amun 
 at  Tliebes  gradually  became  the  largest  in  the  world.  His  whole  literature, 
 even  that  which  was  not  destined  for  a  religious  purpose,  is,  with  a  few 
 exceptions,  saturated  by  a  religious  spirit.  He  bore  willingly  enough  the 
 yoke  of  foreign  rulers  who  adored  his  gods,  who  built  his  temples,  who 
 endowed  his  priests  and  respected  his  rites  ;  but  to  kill  one  of  his  holy 
 animals,  or  insult  one  of  his  gods,  was  sufficient  to  make  him  unfurl  the 
 banner  of  revolt.  The  high  antiquity,  the  peculiar  forms  of  its  gods,  and 
 its  strange  ceremonies,  which  were  for  the  greater  part  only  survivals  of 
 an  era  of  lower  development  but  with  a  mystical  haze  diffused  over  them, 
 gave  to  this  religion,  in  the  eyes  of  the  younger  peoples  of  Europe,  some- 
 thing venerable  and  mysterious.  In  Osiris  and  Isis,  who,  as  religious 
 conceptions,  were  considerably  inferior  to  Zeus  or  Athene,  Greeks  and 
 Romans  sought  satisfaction  for  religious  wants,  which  they  considered 
 that  their  own  gods  could  not  satisfy.  And  Serapis,  who  in  reality  was 
 nothing  but  a  dead  Hapibull,  became  the  All-god,  in  whom  were  united 
 Zeus,  Pluton,  and  Helios. 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  THE   HITTITES. 
 
 By  TiiOiMAS  Tyler,   M.A. 
 
 In  complying  with  the  request  that  I  would  write  a  contribution  to  this 
 vohime  on  the  ReHgion  of  the  Hittites,  I  cannot  conceal  from  myself  a 
 considerable  difficulty,  which  arises  from  the  fragmentary  nature  of  our 
 present  sources  of  knowledge.  The  monuments  as  yet  discovered  are  few, 
 and,  probably  enough,  some  of  these  are  separated  widely  one  from 
 another  in  respect  of  time.  There  are,  besides,  some  notices  in  the  Egyp- 
 tian and  Assyrian  inscriptions,  and  others  in  certain  of  the  bocks  of  the 
 Old  Testament.  But  though  from  these  sources  of  information,  taken 
 together,  it  is  not  possible  to  obtain  complete  information,  yet  we  may- 
 arrive  at  some  conclusions  which  may  be  regarded  as  certain,  and  at  others 
 which  are  highly  probable.  There  is  a  variety  in  the  names  used  in  the 
 Egyptian,  Assyrian,  and  Hebrew  authorities,  but  there  can  scarcely  beany 
 reasonable  doubt  that  the  same  peoples  are  intended. 
 
 One  of  the  chief  causes  which  give  interest  to  the  Religion  of  the  Hit- 
 tites, is  the  probability  that  it  was  this  religion  which  prevailed  in  early 
 times  in  Syria  and  in  Canaan  itself — the  destined  residence  of  the  Theo- 
 cratic people.  A  treaty  between  Rameses  If.  and  the  Khita,  or  Hittites, 
 dating  about  1300  u.c,  has  come  down  to  us,  in  which  there  is  a  list  of  the 
 gods  of  the  land  of  Khita.  The  name  of  Astartha,  or  Ashtoreth,  is  to  be 
 found  in  this  list,  but  that  most  frequently  occurring  is  given  by  Egyp- 
 tologists as  Su/e/e/i,  though  the  true  pronunciation  of  the  final  syllable  is 
 by  no  means  certain.  It  has  been,  indeed,  thought  not  unlikely  that  this 
 Su/eM,  who  appears  to  have  been  a  solar  deity,  is  to  be  identified  with  the 
 Shaddai  mentioned  in  Exodus  vi.  3,  and  elsewhere.  The  passage  in  Exo- 
 dus may  be  thus  translated  :  "  And  I  appeared  unto  Abraham,  unto  Isaac, 
 and  unto  Jacob,  as  Er,  Shaddaf,  but  as  to  My  name  Jkmovah  I  was  not 
 known  to  them."  This  ancient  deity  in  Palestine  would  thus  have  to  be 
 identified  with  the  Egyptian  god  Set,  or  Seti,  of  whom  the  late  Dr.  Birch 
 observed,  "  In  the  Egyptian  mythology  he  appears  as  the  evil  principle, 
 and  also  the  sun-god.  But  the  great  interest  of  the  god  Set  was  his  con- 
 nection with  the  Hykshos  and  Canaanites,  when  he  generally  bears  the 
 name  of  Sulekh  or  Sut.  As  such  he  was  worshipped  during  the  shepherd 
 rule  in  Amaris  ;  after  which  his  worship  still  continued,  ap[)arently  in  con- 
 nection with  Baal,  and  he  was  the  type  of  Northern,  as  Horus  of  Southern, 
 Eg>pt.  ...  He  was  the  chief  god  of  the  Khita  [/>.,  Hittites],  and  at  a 
 later  period,  for  reasons  unknown,  either  religious  or  political,  his  name 
 was  erased  from  the  public  monuments.    .    .     .    One  idea  is,  that  his  name 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF   THE   HITTITES.  ir 
 
 Avas   the  most  ancient  one  of  God  amongst  the  Semitic  races"  (Dr.  S. 
 Birch  in  Wilkinson's  Ancient  Egyptians^  ed.  1878,  vol.  3,  pp.  144,  145). 
 
 Prof.  Sayce  some  time  ago  {Modem  Review,  Oct.,  1882,  p.  857)  put  forth 
 the  "  tentative  suggestion  "  that  tlie  name  Jehovah  may  have  been  derived 
 from  the  Hittites.  In  behalf  of  this  suggestion  he  pointed  to  the  use  of 
 "Jehovah  "  in  forming  tiie  names  of  cenain  princes  of  the  Hittite  city 
 Hamath,  whence  were  obtained  a  few  years  ago  several  important  Hittite 
 inscriptions  now  at  Constantinople.  The  name  of  one  of  the  Hamathite 
 kings  referred  to  by  Professor  Sayce  \?>  Jahu-hidi  ox  Ya/tu-bi<ii,  a  name  found 
 ia  the  Assyrian  inscriptions.  Put  besides  this  there  is  the  njimit /ora in  in  the 
 Second  Book  of  Samuel  (viii.  9,  10)  :  "When  Toi  king  of  Hamath  heaul 
 that  David  had  smitten  all  the  host  of  Hadadezer,  then  Toi  sent  Joram  his 
 son  unto  king  David,  to  salute  him,  and  to  bless  him,  because  he  had  fought 
 against  Hadadezer,  and  smitten  him  :  for  Hadadezer  had  wars  with  Toi." 
 The  writer  in  the  Clironicles,  not  liking,  apparently,  that  a  prince  outside 
 Israel,  and  belonging  to  an  alien  race,  should  bear  a  name  compounded 
 with  the  sacred  name yc^Z/t'zW/,  gives,  instead  ofyi?/*?///,  the  Vidscio.  Hadoram, 
 the  latter  name  being  formed  with  that  of  the  Syrian  god  Hadad  (t  Chron. 
 xviii.  id).  But  the  fact  appears  to  be,  that,  as  was  the  case  with  other 
 deities  in  other  countries,  the  cult,  or,  at  least,  some  respect  for  the  name, 
 of  the  God  of  Israel,  Jehovah,  extended  after  a  time  beyond  the  boundaries 
 of  Israel.  There  is  in  the  British  Museum  a  small  coin  which  has  been 
 thought  to  come  from  a  city  on  the  Philistine  coast,  and  which,  as  shown 
 by  the  letters  inscribed  upon  it,  represents  Jehovah,  though  after  the  fashion 
 in  which  the  Greek  Zeus  or  the  Roman  Jupiter  was  represented,  seated 
 in  a  chariot,  and  with  other  congruous  attributes. 
 
 The  name  Jehovah,  tiiough  not  of  Hittite  origin,  was,  nevertheless,  in  all 
 probability,  a  foreign  name.  It  seems  to  me  most  likely  that  it  was  de- 
 rived from  the  name  of  the  Vedic  deity  Dyau-s,  a  name  which  gave  birth 
 likewise  to  Zt^//^-,  and  \.o /ii-piter,  Jov-is.  It  most  probably  came  to  the 
 Hebrews  through  trathc  with  India,  by  way  of  Chaldea  and  the  Persian 
 Gulf  Dyaiis  was  a  god  of  the  sky  ;  and  the  derivation  I  have  thus  indi- 
 cated may  make  it  a  little  more  easy  to  understand  the  designation  ytf/zfiv?/; 
 Tsebaoth,  "  The  Lord  of  hosts,"  that  is,  in  all  probability,  of  the  stars,  the 
 heavenly  hosts.  The  explanation  given  in  Exod.  iii.  14  has  been  rejected 
 by  distinguished  scholars;  and  it  probably  originated  in  accordance  with 
 the  well-known  method  by  which  foreign  names,  imported  into  a  language, 
 and  whose  origin  and  meaning  have  been  lost  through  lapse  of  time,  come 
 to  be  treated  as  native-born  words,  and  explained  accordingly.  It  would 
 not  be  very  difficult  to  find  examples  more  or  less  analogous  in  our  own 
 language. 
 
 The  treaty  with  Rameses  shows,  as  we  have  seen,  that  Ashtoreth  was  a 
 Hittite  goddess.  She  was  also  a  principal  deity  of  the  Phoenicians,  though 
 the  origin  of  the  name  is  to  be  traced  to  tiie  Mesopotamian  and  Chaldean 
 Ishtar.     She  comes  before  us  in  the  Old  Testament  as  the  "  Queen  of 
 
•12  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OE   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Heaven,"  that  is,  the  Moon,  in  whose  honour  certain  cakes  were  made  ;  a 
 custom  said  to  be  still  observed  in  or  near  the  same  localities.  As  the 
 new  moon  is  regarded  as  horned,  it  is  easy  to  understand  Ashtoreth  being 
 represented  with  the  head  of  a  horned  cow.  It  is  probably  in  connection 
 with  this  representation  that  we  should  understand  the  name  Ashteroth- 
 karnaim,  i.e.,  "  Ashteroth  of  the  two  horns  "  (Gen.  xiv.  5).  And  on  one 
 of  the  inscriptions  from  the  Hittite  city  Hamath,  already  alluded  to,  this 
 goddess  is  undoubtedly  represented  by  a  crescent  moon  with  one  of  its 
 horns  terminating  in  a  horned  ox-head.  And  on  a  Hittite  seal  in  the 
 British  Museum,  from  Yuzgat  in  Asia  Minor,  there  is  represented  the 
 winged  solar  disk,  similar  in  some  measure  to  figures  which  are  to  be  seen 
 on  the  Assyrian  monuments,  but  having  on  each  side  of  it  ox-headed 
 figures  with  human-shaped  bodies  in  the  act  of  adoration,  the  Moon  thus, 
 as  it  were,  confessing  the  Sun's  superiority. 
 
 In  a  number  of  passages  in  the  Old  Testament  is  to  be  found  the  word 
 As/iera/i,  which  the  Authorized  Version  renders  somewhat  incongruously 
 by  "grove."  As  an  example,  may  be  adduced  2  Kings  xxi.  7,  "  .\nd  he 
 set  a  graven  image  of  the  grove  that  he  had  made  in  the  house,  of  which 
 the  Lord  said  to  David,  and  to  Solomon  his  son,  In  this  house,  and  in 
 Jerusalem,  which  I  have  chosen  out  of  all  tribes  of  Israel,  will  I  put  my 
 name  for  ever."  A  "graven  image  of  a  grove  "  must  certainly  have  been 
 something  remarkable.  The  Revised  Version,  in  the  passages  cited  and 
 elsewhere,  preserves  the  original  Hebrew  word  in  the  form  "Asherah."  Of 
 this  Asherah  it  has  been  said,  "  This  symbol  seems  in  all  cases  to  have 
 been  of  wood,  and  the  most  probable  etymology  of  the  term  indicates  that 
 it  was  formed  of  the  straight  stem  of  a  tree,  whether  living  or  set  up  for 
 the  pur[)ose,  and  thus  points  to  the  phallic  rites  with  which  no  doubt  the 
 worship  of  Astarte  was  connected  "  (the  late  Prof.  Gotch,  in  Smith's  Diction- 
 ary). The  "graven  image  of  Asherah  "  probably  implied  a  certain  amount 
 of  sculpture  with  the  view  of  closer  representation.  It  then  became  an 
 "abomination  "  or  "  horror  "  (R.  V.  "an  abominable  image  for  an  Asherah"), 
 I  Kings  XV.  13.  Asherah,  "  the  straight,"  was,  however,  closely  connected 
 with  Ashtorelh — a  connection  in  no  way  difficult  to  understand,  if  we 
 recollect  those  licentious  rites  connected  witli  the  worship  of  Ashtoreth 
 just  alluded  to.  And  Ashtoreth,  as  mentioned  above,  was  a  moon-god- 
 dess. It  is  interesting  to  find  that  in  the  inscriptions  from  Jerablus,  pro- 
 bably the  ancient  Carchemish,  in  the  British  Museum,  a  straight  symbol  is 
 again  and  again  found  by  the  side  of  a  crescent- moon,  the  combination 
 evidently  being  an  object  of  worship,  in  fact,  a  symbol  of  deity.  It  is 
 always,  or  with  scarcely  an  exception,  found  at  the  top  of  the  line,  above 
 other  objects  and  symbols.  It  is  to  be  seen  above  a  sacred  tree  or  other 
 consecrated  objects,  and  the  hand  is  held  up  to  it  in  worship. 
 
 Connected  with  the  worship  of  the  Sun,  the  King  of  Heaven,  was  pro- 
 bably that  of  the  Kngle,  the  Bird  of  the  Sun.  It  is  in  this  way,  as  seems 
 likely,  that  Chemosli,  as  a   solar  deity,  is  represented   by  an  eagle  in  the 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF   THE  HITTITES.  13 
 
 symbol  of  the  name  Car-chemish.  But,  whatever  may  be  the  truth  with 
 regard  to  this  explanation,  which,  however,  seems  to  me  in  a  high  degree 
 probable,  the  evidence  of  coins  shows  that  the  cult  of  the  eagle  existed  in 
 the  country  near  Carchemish  to  a  much  later  date.  And  the  eagle  or  hawk 
 is  a  well-known  Egyptian  Symbol  of  Horus,  the  Rising  Sun. 
 
 1  have  yet  to  speak  of  what  is  perhaps  the  most  curious  fact  in  relation 
 to  the  Hittite  religion — the  sacredness  of  the  triangle,  or  rather,  perhaps 
 it  sliould  be  said,  of  the  equilateral  triangle.  This  fact  was  not  discovered 
 till  some  four  years  ago,  and  then  tlie  discovery  was  made  by  the  exami- 
 nation of  a  seal  with  five  engraved  faces,  now  in  the  Ashmolean  Museum, 
 which  had  been  found  near  Tarsus,  and  had  been  brought  to  this  country 
 by  the  Rev.  Greville  Chester.  Previously  the  occurrence  of  the  equilateral 
 triangle  had  been  observed,  as,  for  example,  on  the  seal  from  Yuzgat 
 already  mentioned  ;  and  on  the  Carthaginian  monuments  it  had  been 
 noticed  that  tiiere  was  frequently  tg  be  seen  a  triangle  with  what  looked 
 like  a  rude  representation  of  a  head  and  projecting  arms  at  the  apex;  but 
 of  this  figure  no  satisfactory  explanation  had  been  given.  On  the  I'arsus 
 seal,  however,  were  to  be  seen  most  curious  figures,  resembling  to  a  certain 
 extent  liie  headed  triangle  of  the  Carthaginian  monuments,  but  with  such 
 modifications  and  such  accomj)anying  figures  as  to  suggest  not  only  a  mys- 
 tical signification,  but  also  to  im[)ly,  or  render  probable,  that  the  equilateral 
 triangle,  by  virtue  of  its  geometrical  properties,  was  regarded  as  of  widespread 
 potency,  or  even  as  the  source  of  life.  The  idea  of  three-in-oneness  repre- 
 sented by  the  triangle  is  exhibited  also  on  the  Tarsus  seal  by  the  trident ; 
 but  of  the  curious  scenes  represented  on  the  five  faces  of  this  seal  it  is 
 scarcely  possible  to  give  an  adequate  idea  without  the  aid  of  figures. 
 Further  research  showed  not  only  a  widespread  use  of  symbols  apparently 
 derived  from  the  triangle,  but  suggested  the  possibility  that  the  Egyptian 
 symbol  of  life,  the  crux  ansata,  or  aiikh,  was  also  at  a  period  of  exceedingly 
 remote  antiquity,  derived  from  the  headed  triangle.  There  is  strong  reason, 
 also,  to  believe,  on  the  evidence  of  a  broken  tablet  in  the  British  Museum, 
 that  in  Babylonia  the  equilateral  triangle  had  the  meaning  "  life."  I  ought 
 to  add  that,  in  the  Louvre,  is  a  very  curious  impression  from  a  Hittite  seal 
 obtained  in  Asia  Minor.  On  this  seal  the  triangle  has,  apparently,  eyes. 
 The  symbol  of  a  hand  is  held  up  to  it  in  supplication.  The  base  is  curved 
 downwards,  either  to  denote  an  inclination  towards  the  worshipper,  or  i)03- 
 sibly  to  represent  a  fulness  of  divine  influence,  a  stream  of  which  is  issuing 
 from  one  of  the  corners.  This  stream  is,  as  I  take  it,  analogous  to  the 
 streams  represented  on  Babylonian  seals  as  issuing  from  the  deity  towards 
 the  worshipper — a  curious  fact  wliich  was  detected  by  Dr.  Hayes  Ward,  of 
 New  York. 
 
 With  two  general  statements  I  may  conclu  le.  The  first  is,  that,  so  far 
 as  we  can  at  present  see,  the  writing  on  the  Hittite  monuments  is,  with  the 
 l)arlial  exception  of  proper  names,  pictorial  or  ideographic,  that  is,  that  it 
 pictures  objects  anl  ideas,  and  does  not  represent  sounds.     Attempts  have 
 
14  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 been  made  to  sliow  that  the  inscriptions  are  alphabetic  or  syllabic  ;  but 
 these  attempts  can  scarcely  be  regarded  as  other  than  failures.  The 
 second  is,  that  though  the  Hitlite  symbols  may  very  possibly  have  been 
 used  by  peoples  speaking  other  dialects,  the  evidence  looks  in  the  direc- 
 tion of  the  Semitic  languages,  Hebrew,  Chaldee,  Syriac  ;  and  this  fact  gives 
 the  Hittite  inscriptions  and  the  Hittite  religion  especial  interest  and 
 importance  in  relation  to  the  religious  history  of  Israel.* 
 
 *  If  the  reader  wishes  to  jnirsue  the  subject  further,  I  may  mention  fliat  there  is  a  good 
 deal  of  additional  information  relating  to  the  Hittite  monuments,  illustrated  by  figures, 
 in  five  articles  whicli  I  contributed  to  Nature,  March  29th  to  April  26lh,  1SS8.  I  hope, 
 after  a  time,  to  republish  the  substance  of  these  articles,  with  additions. 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  BABYLONIA. 
 
 By  W.  St.  Chad  Boscawen. 
 
 In  coming  before  a  mixed  audience,  to  lecture  on  the  Religion  of  Baby- 
 lonia, I  feel  tliat  I  stand  in  a  different  position  from  the  lecturers  who  have 
 l)receded  me.  Unlike  the  learned  scholars  who  have  spoken  to  you  re- 
 garding the  teachings,  creeds,  and  ceremonies  of  Buddhism,  Hinduism,  or 
 Mohammedanism,  I  can  bring  before  you  no  sacred  canon  of  books  upon 
 which  to  base  my  analysis  of  this  ancient  religion.  Among  the  sacred 
 writings  of  the  land  of  Chaldea,  we  find  no  class  of  works  which  can  be 
 studied  in  the  same  systematic  manner  or  submitted  to  the  same  analysis 
 as  the  Vedas,  the  Sutras,  or  the  Quran.  There  is  another  difficulty  which 
 we  encounter  u|)on  the  threshold  of  the  exposition  of  the  principal  features 
 of  the  history  of  religious  development  in  Chaldea.  It  carries  us  back  to 
 so  remote  an  anti(]uity,  before  the  birth  of  the  most  ancient  of  the  religions 
 with  which  we  are  familiar,  and  which  have  formed  the  data  upon  which  the 
 students  of  the  science  of  comparative  religions  have  formulated  the  laws 
 governing  the  growth  ot  religions  in  general,  that  it  is  extremely  difficult 
 to  trace  its  growth  and  development  in  accordance  with  those  laws  which 
 are  applicable  to  the  Aryan  and  oiher  systems. 
 
 Our  earliest  inscriptions  from  the  cities  of  Southern  Chaldea  carry  us 
 back  to  a  i)eriod  certainly  long  prior  to  R.c.  3800  ;  and  yet  these  inscrip- 
 tions prove  that  religion  had  already  passed  through  more  than  one  of  the 
 earlier  stages  of  development.  Animism  or  Shamanism,  the  crude  cultus 
 of  the  magician  and  sorcerer,  ever  in  contact  with  the  evil  opponents  in 
 nature,  the  spirits  which  waged  war  against  man,  had  passed  away  and 
 given  place  to  the  worship  of  the  Creator  God  {Dimmerd).  While,  how- 
 ever, this  iMogress  had  been  attained,  and  a  crude  theocracy  formulated, 
 yet  the  older  creeds  still  lingered  on  and  intermingled  with  the  religion  of 
 the  period  ;  and  fragments  of  their  litanies  and  liturgies  are  still  preserved 
 to  us. 
 
 It  is  in  this  mixed  character  of  the  religion  in  the  inscriptions  that  one 
 of  our  chief  difficulties  is  found. 
 
 The  sacred  literature  is  by  no  means  scanty  ;  thousands  of  tablets  exist 
 in  our  museums,  which  contain  prayers,  litanies,  and  liturgical  texts.  Our 
 difficulty  lies  rather,  however,  in  the  fact  that  these  tablets  present  no 
 regular  arrangements,  as  to  class,  date,  or  authorship ;  and  this  is  still 
 further  complicated  by  the  fact  that  many  of  the  tablets  are  rather  to  be 
 regarded  as  scattered  pages  of  lost  works  tlian  complete  works  in  them- 
 selves. 
 
 15 
 
I6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Fragmentary,  varied  in  date  and  chariicter,  as  most  of  these  tablets  are, 
 the  j)aiient  study  and  research  of  such  able  scholars  as  the  late  M.  Francois 
 Lenonnant  in  France,  and  the  Rev.  Professor  A.  H.  Sayce  in  Fngland, 
 have  done  much  to  introduce  system  and  order  where  chaos  formerly 
 existed  ;  and  to  enable  us  to  ascertain,  with  some  degree  of  approximation, 
 the  oldest  of  the  religious  books  of  Chaldea.  Among  these  tablets  are  a 
 large  number  whose  religious  teaching  centres  round  the  ancient  city  of 
 Fridu.  'J'his  ancient  city,  the  older  name  of  which  was  Eri-dugga  ("the 
 Holy  City"),  was  the  Jerusalem,  the  Umritzsa,  the  Mecca,  of  Chaldea. 
 Situated  on  the  shores  of  the  Persian  Culf,  which  at  that  remote  period 
 came  much  farther  inland  ^  than  at  the  present  day,  it  was  the  sacred  city 
 of  Ea,  the  all-wise  god  of  the  sea.  Fa  was  the  god,  not  only  of  the  material 
 watery  sea,  but  also  of  the  mystic  deep,-  the  Ocea/ios,  which  surrounded  the 
 earth  like  a  serpent,  and  which  was  his  symbol. 
 
 Here  then  grew  up  the  creed  of  the  worship  of  the  sea  god.  They  heard 
 his  voice  in  the  murmur  of  the  waves,  and  in  the  ebbing  and  flowing  tide.^ 
 They  saw  his  anger  in  the  stormy  waves,  which  lashed  themselves  with 
 fury,  and  made  the  sea  wild  with  tossing  billows.  In  the  deep  depths  of 
 its  coral  caves  he  dwelt — invisible  to  men,  yet  knowing  all  things. 
 
 It  is  difficult  to  trace  the  origin  of  this  cult ;  it  is,  perhaps,  to  be  attribu- 
 ted to  a  tribe  who  entered  Chaldea  from  the  sea,  or  who,  at  any  rate,  were 
 a  race  of  navigators,  as  shown  by  the  epithets  of  their  god  :  "  lord  of  the 
 boatment,"  "  lord  of  ships,"  "  lord  of  sea  an  i  rivers,"  all  of  which  are  those 
 of  a  seafaring  people.  ^Ve  have  certainly  a  trace  of  this  early  school  of 
 religious  teaching  preserved  in  the  legend  of-Oannes,  recorded  by  Berosus. 
 This  strange  fish-man  rose  day  by  day  from  the  waters  of  the  Frythirean 
 Sea,  to  teach  men  the  first  elements  of  civili-iation.  \\\  this  tradition  the 
 epithets  found  on  the  tablets  :  "the  wise  one,"  "the  intelhgent,"  "the  one 
 who  knows  all  things,"  are  evidently  embraced  in  the  character  of  the  in- 
 structor applied  to  Cannes.  In  tiiese  older  tablets,  partially  magical,  we 
 find  the  devotee  in  his  trouble  turning  to  Fa  to  aid  him  to  remove  his 
 sickness  or  drive  away  a  malevolent  foe  ;  but  the  holy  one,  while  being  the 
 supreme  god  and  faliier  of  all,  holds  no  direct  communication  with  men. 
 They  hear  his  voice  in  the  waves,  they  feel  his  presence  and  his  breath  in 
 the  cool  breeze  at  eventide.  "  In  the  innermost  recesses  we  have  smelt 
 his  pure  breath,"  says  one  of  the  hymns.  Thus  he  made  himself  manifest 
 like  Yavch  to  Adam  in  the  garden,  in  the  cool  of  the  evening  ;  but  they 
 saw  him  not.     A  mediator  was  found  !  I     Day  by  day,  as  they  looked  to- 
 
 *  The  site  of  Eridu  is  now  marked  by  the  mounds  of  Abu  Sh:\hrein  on  the  east  bank 
 of  the  Euphrates,  about  twenty  miles  soalh  of  Mughin,  or  Ur.  Calculating  the  growth 
 of  alluvial  at  a  similar  jiroportion  to  that  of  the  present  day,  about  six  feet  per  annum,  it 
 must  have  been  cailier  than  li.C.  3000,  considerably,  when  Eridu  was  an  open  port  on 
 the  shurcs  of  ihe  gulf. 
 
 ■•'  Tills  region  was  called  Absu  or  Apsu.  the  Apason  of  Damascius,  and  is  explained  by 
 Hil  tiemeki,  "  the  liouse  of  deep  knowledge. 
 
 ^  W.  A.  I.,  ii.  iS-30-35. 
 
THE   RELIGION  OF  BABYLONIA.  17 
 
 ward  the  eastern   horizon  bounding  the  sea,  they  saw  a  bright  being  rise 
 from  the  sea.     Each  day  he  rose  from  it,   bringing  with   him   Hght  and 
 brightness,   and   driving  away  the   dread  darkness,   and  all  day  long  he 
 remained  with  men,  casting  over  them  his  all-seeing  eye  ;  when  once  again 
 at  even  he  sank  to  rest  in  his  western  home  on  the  border  of  the  far-distant 
 sea.     Surely  this  bright  being  must  be  a  child  of  the  sea-god.     Each   day 
 he  left  his  father's  house  and  came  forth   in  his  character  of  "  protector  of 
 good  men  "  {Silik-tnuln-dug^^a),  and  each  night  he  returned  to   his  father's 
 house  in  the  mysterious  region   of  the  Al>sii,  "  the   house  of  deej)  know- 
 ledge."    "  Surely,"  they  said,  "  he  must   be  our  messenger  to  the  all-wise 
 divine  father."     Thus,  through  all  these  older  hymns,  we  find  the  teaching 
 of  the  worship  of  Ea  and  his  communion   with  men  by  the  mediation  of 
 his  son,  Mardi/gs^a,  "the   holy  son,"  which  was  afterwards  corrupted  into 
 Marduk  or   NTerodach.     The  epithets  applied  to  Merodach  in  these  hymns, 
 dating  from  the  third  millcnium  before   the   Christian  era,  are  very  remark- 
 able, and   show  a  high   development  of  anthropomorphism ;  "  Merodach, 
 substance  of  myself;"  "  Merodach,  firstborn  of  the  deep  {apsi),  thou  canst 
 make   pure  and  prosperous  ;  "  "  Merodach,   the  son  of  Eridu."     It  was 
 Merodach  who  bore  to  his  father  the  plaint  of  the  sick  and   sinful  :   "  To 
 his  father  he  approached,   his   message  he  repeated,  'O  my   father,   the 
 disease  of  the  head  is  fallen  upon  the  man.' "     It  is  from  his  father  that  he 
 receives  the  instruction  to  heal  :  "O  my  son,  what  dost  thou  not   know? 
 What  shall  I  tell  to  thee  more  ?     What  I  know  thou  knowest.     Go,  my  son 
 Merodach,  take  the  man  to  the  house  of  purification,  and  remove  his  ban 
 and  expel  his  curse." 
 
 The '' i)rotector  of  good  men"  {Si'/i/:- //i/^/u-dugga)  became  himself  the 
 god  of  good  men,  the  god  of  goodness,  the  good  god. 
 
 Here,  then,  the  element  of  dualism  was  introduced,  and  its  appearance 
 in  Chaldean  mythology  is  most  interesting  and  extremely  valuable  to  stu- 
 dents of  the  religious  developments  of  surrounding  nations. 
 
 Darkness  and  night  were  to  the  early  myth-maker  the  representatives  of 
 evil.  It  was  at  night  that  the  demons,  the  vampires,  and  ghoul-like  foes 
 of  man  came  forth  to  war  against  him.  The  demon  of  chaos,  the  />is-dis 
 tiamat,  or  dragon  of  the  sea,  was  the  queen  of  primaeval  night,  and  the  ruler 
 of  the  powers  of  evil.  Between  the  powers  of  evil  and  darkness,  and 
 Merodach,  the  holy  son,  the  offspring  of  his  all-wise  father  Ea,  the  good 
 god,  there  was  a  never-ceasing  war — a  dread  struggle  waged  morn  after 
 morn  and  eve  after  eve. 
 
 Each  morning  the  bright  one  rose  from  his  home,  the  dark  serpent  of 
 night,  the  serpent  with  seven  heads  and  seven  tails,  the  hebdominal  ser- 
 pent, coiled  round  the  earth  holding  it  in  bondage.  Through  the  darkness 
 darts  the  "  first  ray  of  light,"  the  arrow  of  the  god,  like  the  arrow  of 
 Apollo  or  the  spear  of  Michael.  The  serpent  is  wounded,  the  wound 
 grows  wider  and  wider,  the  edges  are  tinged  with  golden  red,  the  blood 
 of  the  dragon,  who  slowly  uncoils.     Through  the   broken   coil  comes  the 
 
 VOL.    I.  c 
 
1 8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 conquering  bright  Sun-god,  clad  in  glistering  armour,  and  armed  with  all 
 the  panoply  of  war.  His  curved  sword  or  sabre,  his  mace,  his  sacred  bow 
 made  of  the  wood  of  the  tree  of  the  gods,  and  his  quiver  full  of  death- 
 dealing  arrows.  Like  INIithra,  Michael,  or  Apollo,  he  comes  forth  as  the 
 warrior  of  the  gods  to  crush  the  evil  one. 
 
 The  serpent,  defeated,  sinks  slowly  away,  and  her  allies,  the  black  storm- 
 clouds,  lie  in  heaps  on  the  horizon  like  flies.  The  victor,  "  crushes  the 
 brain  of  the  serpent  with  his  mace."  The  head  of  the  serpent  is  bruised, 
 and  victory  rests  with  goodness  and  right. 
 
 Eventide  draws  near,  the  victor  of  the  morn  has  made  his  triumphal 
 progress  o'er  the  azure  field  of  heaven,  and  now  sinks  to  his  home  in  the 
 west,  where  the  gates  of  the  setting  sun  guarded  by  the  Scorpion  Kerubim 
 open  to  receive  him.  Scarce  has  he  reached  the  threshold,  when  there 
 creeps  slowly  on  his  heel  the  reborn  serpent  of  night ;  and  the  victor,  like 
 Achilles,  is  wounded  in  his  vulnerable  part.  Thus,  day  by  day,  the. 
 prophecy  in  Genesis  finds  its  repetition  in  nature.  The  head  of  the  ser- 
 pent is  crushed  and  bruised,  yet  night  by  night  he  comes  upon  the  path  of 
 the  victor  to  bruise  his  heel. 
 
 Thus  we  find  in  the  old  mythology  of  Chaldea,  as  in  those  of  the  Aryan 
 and  Semite,  the  myth  of  the  daily  recurring  war  between  light  and  dark- 
 ness, between  good  and  evil,  with  its  beautiful  native  poetry.  It  is  the 
 teaching  of  this  school  of  Eridu,  "  the  holy  city,"  with  its  almost  mono- 
 theistic worship  of  Ea  and  his  divine  son,  that  exercised  a  most  powerful 
 influence  on  the  future  developments  of  the  national  religious  life. 
 
 In  tracing  the  growth  and  development  of  religious  belief  in  Babylonia, 
 we  must  remember  that  religious  progress  synchronizes  with  social  progress. 
 The  weird  creeds,  animism,  fetish  worship,  etc.,  with  their  liturgies  of 
 magic,  belong  to  the  family  and  early  tribal  stages.  With  the  settlement 
 in  cities  came  the  rise  of  the  city  god,  the  temple  and  the  local  school  of 
 theology.  Ur  became  the  centre  of  the  worship  of  the  moon-god.  Erech 
 became  the  centre  of  the  cultus  of  Nana,  Larsa  and  Sippara,  the  Northern 
 and  Southern  Heliopoli ;  and  Kutha  or  Tigabba  "  the  city  of  the  bow- 
 ing down  of  the  head,"  the  great  centre  of  eschatological  ^  teaching,  and  the 
 worship  of  Nergal,  the  "  great  devourer,"  the  god  of  death.  One  of  the 
 most  ancient  religious  centres  was  that  of  Sergul,  the  city  of  the  fire-god, 
 contemporary  with  Eridu. 
 
 The  local  centres  of  religious  life  in  Clialdea  were  most  important  fea- 
 tures in  the  intellectual  progress  of  the  ])eoplc;  for  eacli  became  the  seat 
 of  a  school  of  prophets  and  teachers  ;  and  much  of  the  learning  and  wisdom 
 which  in  after  time  made  Babylon  the  Alina  Mater  of  Western  Asia,  was 
 first  elaborated  in  these  local  schools.  There  grew  up,  therefore,  in  Baby- 
 Ionia,  as  early  as  the  twenty-fifth  century  before  the  Christian  Era,  a  series 
 of  Ideal   educational   centres.     The   local    ])riests  and   doctors  were   most 
 
 '  Relating  to  the  doctrine  of  the  last  things. 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  BABYLONIA.  19 
 
 jealous  of  the  teaching  of  their  school,  and  the  rights  and  privileges  of 
 their  temple;  and,  like  the  lirahniins  in  India  and  the  priests  in  Egypt, 
 were  by  far  the  most  influential  caste  in  the  land.  The  king  often  was  by 
 birth,  and  always  by  right  of  office,  a  khaitesi,  or  "  high  priest,"  and  as 
 such  head  of  the  Church  and  State.  It  is  these  local  centres,  like  the  local 
 polyarchies,  that  is  one  of  the  most  characteristic  features  of  Babylonian 
 religious  life,  and  which  exercised  a  great  power  in  its  subsequent  develop- 
 ments. 
 
 It  would  require  more  time  than  is  at  my  disposal  this  afternoon  to 
 describe  the  nature  and  character  of  the  teaching  in  these  various  temple 
 colleges ;  two,  however,  deserve  more  than  a  mere  passing  notice.  The 
 first  of  these  is  the  city  of  Ur,  in  which  the  Semites  first  make  their  appear- 
 ance, a  city  of  especial  interest  as  being  the  birthplace  and  early  home  of 
 Abram,  the  ancestor  of  the  Hebrew  people.  The  characteristic  feature 
 here  was  the  worship  of  the  Moon-god  in  his  temple  "  of  the  great  light," 
 under  the  names  of  Aku,  "  the  disk  ;  "  Nannar,  "  the  bright  one  ; "  or  Sin, 
 "the  bright."  A  name  which  is  preserved  in  the  names  of  Sinai  and  the 
 wilderness  of  Sin. 
 
 The  worship  of  the  moon  has  always  preceded  that  of  the  sun  among 
 nomad  races ;  so  here  we  see  the  Moon  called  the  father  of  the  Sun-god, 
 and  represented  as  an  aged  man  with  bright  iiorns  and  a  crystal  beard. 
 
 Father,  longsuffering  and  full  of  forgiveness,  whose  hand  upholds  the  life  of  all  man- 
 kind : 
 
 Lord,  Thy  divinity  fdls  the  far-distant  heaven  and  the  widespread  sea  with  reverence. 
 
 On  the  surface  of  the  peopled  earth,  he  bids  sanctuaries  be  placed,  and  proclaims  for 
 (each)  its  name. 
 
 Father,  creator  of  gods  and  men,  who  causes  the  shrine  to  be  founded,  who  establishes 
 his  ottering. 
 
 In  Heaven  who  is  supreme  ?     Thou  alone  art  supreme  ! 
 
 In  Earth  who  is  sujireme  ?     Thou  alone  art  supreme  I 
 
 As  for  thee,  thy  will  is  made  known  in  heaven,  and  the  angels  bow  down  their  faces. 
 
 As  for  thee,  thy  will  is  made  known  in  earth,  and  the  spirits  kiss  the  ground. 
 
 As  for  thee,  thy  will  is  spread  on  high  as  the  wind,  the  stall  and  the  fold  bring  forth. 
 
 As  for  thee,  thy  will  is  declared  on  earth,  and  the  green  herb  grows. 
 
 As  for  thee,  thy  will  is  made  known  in  the  resting-place,  and  the  sheep-cote,  and  all 
 living  things  increase. 
 
 As  for  thee,  thy  will  has  created  law  and  justice,  in  that  man  by  it  has  made  a  law. 
 
 As  for  thee,  thy  will  is  the  far-distant  heaven  and  the  innennost  parts  of  the  earth,  no 
 man  has  known  it. 
 
 As  for  thee,  who  can  explain  thy  will  ;  what  can  rival  it  ? 
 
 These  hymns  exhibit  considerable  advance  on  the  cruder  thoughts  of  the 
 older  Turanian  magic  songs  and  litanies ;  and  it  must,  to  a  large  degree, 
 be  attributed  to  the  influence  of  a  purer  and  more  jDoetic  thought  inspired 
 by  the  desert  life  of  the  Semitic  people.  It  is  curious  in  these  hymns, 
 dating  back  certainly  to  the  twenty-fifth  century  before  the  Christian  era, 
 to  find  phrases  and  expressions  almost  similar  to  those  used  by  the  Hebrew 
 psalmists.  The  discovery  of  these  fragments  of  the  liturgy  of  the  temple 
 of  the  "  great  light,"  in  which  the  ancestors  of  Terakh  and  Abram  wor- 
 shipped, is  a  very  important  one,  for  the  monuments  now  show  that   the 
 
20  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 city  of  Kharran  in  North  Mesopotamia,  to  which  Abram  emigrated,  was  a 
 colony  from  Ur  of  the  Chaldees,  and  its  "  temple  of  brightness  "  an  adjunct 
 of  the  mother-temple  of  Ur.  Perhaps  in  these  hymns  and  psalms  we  may 
 trace  the  first  inspirations  of  the  songs  of  Zion. 
 
 The  second  centre  of  religious  life  to  which  I  would  call  your  attention 
 is  the  dual  city  of  Sippara,  the  Sepharvaim  of  the  Old  Testament  (2  Kings 
 xviii.),  a  city  from  which  the  Samaritan  colonists  were  taken.  It  was  one 
 of  the  oldest  cities  of  the  Chaldean  Empire,  being  by  Berossus  attributed 
 to  antediluvian  ages — the  city  in  which  Xisuthrus,  the  Chaldean  Noah, 
 placed  the  records  of  pre-diluvian  history.  The  explorations  upon  the  site 
 now  marked  by  the  mounds  of  Abbu  Hubba  prove  it  to  be  a  city  whose 
 temple,  dedicated  to  the  sun-god,  had  grown  old  and  decayed,  at  as  re- 
 mote a  period  as  B.C.  3800,  and  some  archaic  inscriptions  from  the  site 
 may  be  ascribed  to  an  even  more  remote  antiquity.  Here  there  grew  up 
 a  most  powerful  temple,  with  its  schools,  libraries,  observatories  ;  and  sup- 
 porting a  vast  number  of  priests,  doctors,  and  scribes.  The  cultus  located 
 here  was  that  of  the  worship  of  the  bright  sun-god  under  his  name  of  Bar- 
 bar,  or  Samas  ;  and  the  legends  and  myths  of  his  wars  and  loves  are  most 
 poetic,  and  valuable  to  the  student  of  comparative  mythology.  According 
 to  the  fragments  which  have  been  recovered  from  the  library  of  this  temple, 
 the  hymns  are  full  of  the  most  beautiful  poetry.  The  sun,  in  a  morning 
 hymn,  is  described  as  opening  the  great  gates  of  the  rising  sun  and  coming 
 forth  upon  the  world  "  like  a  wife  pleased  and  giving  pleasure,"  an  expres- 
 sion which  finds  its  equivalent  in  the  Hebrew  Psalms  (xix.  5  etseq.) :  "The 
 Sun  which  as  a  bridegroom  cometh  out  of  his  chamber,  and  rejoiceth  as  a 
 strong  man  to  run  his  course."  Spreading  bright  light,  he  looks  upon  all 
 nations,  and  all  nations  turn  their  face  to  him  ;  "  his  name  is  in  all 
 mouths;"  " thou  art  a  banner,"  a  rallying-point,  "  to  all  the  wide  earth." 
 In  another  hymn  we  read  of  the  beautiful,  all-seeing  eyes  of  the  sun,  "  the 
 judge  of  men."  His  strength,  like  that  of  Samson,  is  in  his  bright  golden 
 locks  and  beard,  which  represent  his  rays  of  light,  shorn  and  marred  by 
 the  cold,  cutting  winter.  He  dies  to  rise  again  in  all  his  youthful  beauty. 
 In  the  temple  were  his  sacred  chariot  and  horses,  such  as  those  of  the 
 Greek  Apollo  or  the  Syrian  sun-god,  which  were  destroyed  by  Josiah  (2 
 Kings  xxiii.  1 1).  These  are  two  of  the  chief  centres  of  religious  life  which 
 were  in  contact  with  the  Hebrew  people  in  pre-captivity  times,  and  are 
 therefore  of  more  interest  to  us  than  some  of  the  others,  of  which  time 
 does  not  permit  me  to  speak. 
 
 In  tracing  the  growth  and  development  of  religious  life  in  Babylonia,  we 
 must  always  maintain  a  synchronism  with  the  social  progress  of  the 
 people  ;  and  thus  we  shall  be  able  to  establish  a  regular  sequence  in  the 
 progressive  stages. 
 
 The  age  of  polyarchy  antl  the  varied  local  schools  of  religious  thought ; 
 was  terminated  by  the  jjcriod  when  the  various  city  kingdoms  became 
 amalgamated  into  one,  and  the  empire  was  consolidated  under  the  govern- 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  BABYLONIA.  21 
 
 ment  of  one  powerful  ruler.  Such  partial  consolidations  had  taken  place 
 at  various  times,  as,  for  example,  in  b.c.  3800,  when  Sargon  I.,  of  Agade 
 or  Akkad,  became  ruler  of  the  land,  or  later,  about  B.C.  2500,  when  the 
 kings  of  Ur,  Urbahu  and  Dungi,  had  founded  a  united  empire  in  South 
 Babylonia. 
 
 But  the  grand  and  final  consolidation  took  place  about  B.C.  2200,  when 
 a  powerful  prince,  Kammurabi,  proclaimed  himself  king  of  Sumir  and 
 Akkad,  namely  North  and  South  Babylonia,  and  assumed  the  epithet  of 
 "  builder  of  the  land,"  namely,  founder  of  the  empire,  and  made  Babylon 
 his  capital.  Babylon  had  before  this  been  but  a  second-rate  city.  It  is 
 true  that  dynasties  from  Dintir-Ki,  or  Babylon,  had  from  time  to  time 
 held  sway ;  but  it  was  not  until  this  period  that  Babylon  became  the 
 religious  and  secular  capital  of  the  empire.  Its  central  position,  its  acces- 
 sibility from  all  parts,  made  it  an  excellent  site  for  the  national  capital  ;  and, 
 once  established  as  such,  it  remained  so  for  more  than  two  thousand 
 years-. 
 
 With  the  establishment  of  Babylon  as  the  national  capital  came  the  ele- 
 vation of  the  local  god  of  Babylon  into  the  position  of  the  national  god. 
 
 A  similar  change  followed  the  conversion  of  the  old  Canaanite  fortress 
 of  Jebus  into  the  Hebrew  capital  of  Jerusalem.  By  the  removal  of  the 
 Ark,  the  Hebrew  palladiiun,  to  the  new  capital,  it  formed  a  species  of 
 compact  between  Yaveh  and  the  royal  house  ;  and  Yaveh  of  Jerusalem 
 became  the  national  goil.  This  change  was  only  gradual,  taking,  as  AI. 
 Renan  remarks,  nearly  four  centuries  to  reach  its  full  development.  In 
 this  centralization  of  religious  as  well  as  secular  authority  in  one  common 
 centre  lies  the  great  secret  of  Babylonian  national  jirosperity  :  and  as  long 
 as  the  alliance  was  maintained  the  power  of  the  empire  was  unbreakable. 
 
 The  local  god  of  Babylon  was  Marduk,  or  Merodach  :  but  on  his  eleva- 
 tion to  the  position  of  national  god  he  assumed  many  of  the  attributes  of 
 his  father  Ea,  and  also  of  Bel,  "  the  lord  of  the  world,"  and  became  known 
 as  Bel-Merodach,  the  Belus  of  the  Greek  writers.  Khammurabi  restored 
 and  beautified  his  great  temple  called  by  the  name  of  E-Sagilla,  "the 
 house  of  the  lofty  head  ; "  and  every  monarch  from  this  period  until  the 
 days  of  Cyrus  added  his  quota  to  its  adornment  and  wealth.  It  became 
 the  metropolitan  cathedral  of  Babylonia,  the  centre  of  all  religious  hfe 
 throughout  the  vast  empire.  The  dynasty  of  Khammurabi  lasted  over  two 
 centuries,  and  thus  the  work  begun  by  the  founder  was  cemented  and 
 made  firm ;  and  although  there  were  numerous  temples  of  far  greater 
 antiquity  and  of  more  impressive  religious  associations,  yet  for  all  time  this 
 edifice  became  the  national  temple  of  Babylonia,  and  one  of  the  wonders 
 of  the  world. 
 
 It  was,  however,  during  the  important  period  of  the  Xeo-Babylonian 
 Empire,  founded  by  Nabupalassar,  in  b.c.  625,  and  his  successors,  that 
 this  great  national  religion  was  at  the  zenith  of  its  glory. 
 
 This  is  the  period  upon  which  we  are  now  getting  a  flood  of  light  by  the 
 
22  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 recent  discoveries  in  Babylonia ;  is  one  of  the  most  important  in  the 
 history  of  religious  development  in  Western  Asia  ;  and  one  which  throws 
 an  extremely  important  light  upon  the  post-captivity  aspect  of  Judaism. 
 For  it  is  during  this  period,  from  B.C.  586  to  B.C.  538,  that  the  Jewish  people 
 were  in  the  closest  contact  and  relationship  with  their  captors — a  contact 
 almost  amounting  to  an  absorption  by  their  captors.  Merodach  now 
 occupied  almost  the  same  position  in  regard  to  the  affairs  of  Babylonia 
 that  Yaveh  occupies  in  the  writings  of  the  later  Jewish  prophets.  He  is 
 the  national  god.  Babylonia  is  "  spoken  of  as  his  chosen  field  or  land  " — 
 Babylon  as  his  chosen  city  which  he  loves,  while  Bit  Saggil  is  the  abode 
 which  he  loves.  The  enemies  of  the  nation  are  his  enemies.  This  is 
 notably  shown  in  the  case  of  the  overthrow  of  the  Medes.  Prior  to  B.C.  549, 
 the  Medes,  growing  in  power,  had  been  a  serious  danger  threatening  the 
 empire — as  enemies  of  the  empire  they  are  also  enemies  of  the  national 
 god.  Thus,  in  the  inscription  :  "  iMerodach,  the  great  lord,  caused  Cyrus, 
 his  little  servant,  to  go  up  against  Astyages,  the  king  of  the  Barbarians  ; 
 he  overthrew  him,  his  city  Ecbatana  he  captured,  and  his  spoil  he  carried 
 away  \ "  Cyrus  is  here  spoken  of  as  the  little  servant  of  the  national  god, 
 because  he  is  doing  his  work.  Nabonidus  himself  is  the  greater  servant. 
 Here,  then,  Merodach  occupies  exactly  the  same  position  that  is  assigned 
 to  Cyrus  by  Yaveh  in  Isaiah  xliv.  28,  xlv.  i,  where  he  is  spoken  of  as 
 "  Cyrus,  my  prince."  Kings  and  princes  do  his  work  in  destroying  these 
 toes,  and  he  applies  to  these  enemies  the  same  epithet  as  the  Hebrew  god, 
 "the  unrighteous  (/a  ma^ari),  who  shall  be  utterly  swept  off  the  face  of 
 the  earth."  He  is  a  jealous  god,  and,  as  such,  brooks  no  interference 
 with  his  sovereignty.  This  is  shown  in  the  progress  of  events  which  led 
 to  the  fall  of  the  Babylonian  Empire.  Nabonidus,  the  last  of  the  native 
 Babylonian  kings,  who  ascended  the  throne  in  B.C.  555,  was  a  vacillating 
 ruler,  caring  rather  for  pleasure,  and  especially  apparently  for  antiquarian 
 researches,  than  for  the  duties  of  State.  In  the  valuable  chronicle  tablet 
 we  read  the  often-repeated  phrase  :  "  Bel  came  not  forth  ; "  denoting  that 
 the  annual  processions  of  the  gods  were  not  celebrated.  In  addition  to 
 this  neglect  of  the  worship  of  Merodach,  the  king,  actuated  perhaps  by 
 his  antiquarian  zeal,  gathered  together  in  the  temple  of  Bel  the  statues  of 
 all  the  gods  from  the  various  great  temples  of  the  land.  This,  naturally, 
 had  a  most  serious  effect  on  the  priest  caste.  The  priests  of  Bel-Merodacli 
 were  offended,  and  cr^'^o  the  god  himself  also,  at  being  brought  in  contact 
 with  these  local  divinities ;  and  the  priests  of  the  various  local  temples, 
 many  of  them  older  than  Babylon  itself,  were  naturally  incensed  against 
 the  king,  who  deprived  them  of  their  local  palladia.  The  action  of  the 
 king  naturally  produced  a  religious  revolution  in  the  land,  and  a  powerful 
 opposition  to  the  king. 
 
 The  sole  controlling  clement  in  the  land  was  found  in  Belshazzar,  the 
 king's  son,  who  seems  to  have  been  most  punctilious  in  his  religious 
 duties,  as  well  as  an  active  and  able  soldier.     But  the  gods,  as  represented 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  BABYLONIA.  23 
 
 by  the  priests,  were  against  him,  and  his  fate  was  certain.  The  Baby- 
 lonians, Hke  the  Jews,  were  at  this  time  looking  to  the  same  source  for 
 dehverance.  Cyrus,  the  Persian,  was  hailed  alike  by  Jew  and  Babylonian 
 as  the  one  who  would  restore  the  capital— and  restore  the  national  temple, 
 and  restore  the  national  religion — and  bring  peace  to  each  alike.  There 
 was  a  very  rich  and  powerful  Jewish  element  in  the  population,  and  it  is 
 very  probable  that  they  took  the  popular  side  in  this  national  crisis.  The 
 great  banking  firm,  who  lent  money  to  kings  and  princes,  and  farmed  the 
 Babylonian  revenues  of  both  temples  and  State  are  now  admitted,  by 
 almost  all  Assyriologists,  to  be  .of  Jewish  origin.  Their  name,  Egibi,  or 
 Ikibi,  is  the  exact  ec^uivalent  of  the  Hebrew  Yakob,  or  Jacob.  One  strong 
 argument  that  these  people  sided  with  the  Babylonians  in  welcoming 
 Cyrus  as  the  deliverer,  is  shown  in  the  fact  that  their  commercial  transac- 
 tions, of  which  we  possess  thousands  of  documents,  are  only  interrupted 
 for  a  {^w  days  by  the  events  of  the  fall  of  Babylon.  It  is  not,  therefore, 
 to  be  wondered,  with  these  elements  in  his  favour,  that  Cyrus  entered  city 
 after  city,  and  lastly  Babylon  itself,  without  fighting,  It  was  on  the  even- 
 ing of  the  15th  of  the  month  Tammuz,  the  great  festival  of  the  marriage 
 of  Ishtar  and  Tammuz  Adonis,  in  the  year  B.C.  53S,  that  Babylon  fell, 
 Belshazzar  was  slain,  and  the  empire  fell. 
 
 "  That  night  they  slew  him  on  his  fatlier's  throne, 
 The  deed  unnoticed,  and  the  hand  unknown, 
 Crownless  and  sceptreless  Belshazzar  lay, 
 A  robe  of  purple  round  a  form  of  clay." 
 
 Cyrus  was  hailed  as  a  deliverer,  a  messiah.  He  freed  the  Babylonians 
 from  the  eccentricity  of  an  unpopular  man,  and  afforded  to  the  Jews  the 
 prospect  of  a  deliverance.  He  is  hailed  by  the  national  god  as  his  servant, 
 his  viceroy  ;  and  the  inscriptions  from  the  temple  of  Merodach  clearly 
 reveal  this.  Thus  is  the  Persian  ruler  spoken  of :  "  Merodach,  the  great 
 lord,  restorer  of  his  people,  beheld  with  joy  the  deeds  of  his  vice-regent, 
 who  was  righteous  in  hand  and  heart.  To  his  city  of  Babylon  he  sum- 
 moned his  march  ;  like  a  friend  and  a  comrade  he  went  by  his  side  ;  with- 
 out fighting  or  battle  he  caused  him  to  enter  his  city  of  Babylon.  The 
 lord  god,  who  in  his  mercy  raises  the  dead  to  life,  and  who  benefits  all  men 
 in  difficulty  and  prayer,  has  in  favour  drawn  to  him  and  made  mighty  his 
 name.  Merodach,  the  great  lord,  freed  the  heart  of  his  servant,  whom  the 
 people  of  Babylon  obey."  These  passages  are  sufficient  to  show  Cyrus 
 was  welcomed  by  the  Babylonians,  and  the  short  time  in  which  he  assumed 
 and  established  here  in  his  new  empire  proves  the  willingness  of  the  people 
 to  submit  to  him.  The  policy  of  Cyrus  in  thus  recognising  the  religion  of 
 Babylon,  and  becoming  a  prayerful  servant  of  Nebo  and  Merodach,  would 
 seem  to  directly  contradict  the  statements  of  the  Hebrew  prophet  Isaiah 
 (ch.  .\lv.  i),  where  he  is  attributed  with  the  most  iconoclastic  tenets,  but  it 
 is  only  in  perfect  accordance  with  tlie  subsequent  action  of  Cambyses  and 
 
U  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 Darius  in  Egypt,  where  the  former  conformed  to  the  worship  of  Neit,  and 
 the  latter  to  the  adoration  of  Amnion,  to  whom  he  built  a  temple  in  the 
 oasis  of  El  Kargeli. 
 
 It  was  remarked  by  the  late  Emanuel  Deutsch  how  remarkable  was  the 
 change  wrought  in  the  Hebrew  people  during  the  period  of  the  captivity. 
 They  entered  the  land  a  people  ever  falling  into  idolatry,  and  falling  from 
 the  service  of  the  national  god.  In  no  way  were  they  centralized,  either 
 in  national  or  religious  life,  with  no  great  national  ambition,  with  only  a 
 law  applicable  to  desert  life,  and  no  code  suitable  to  civic  life.  Yet  in  the 
 short  period  of  about  sixty  years  they  return  from  their  captivity  a  new- 
 people. 
 
 We  can  see,  perhaps,  some  of  the  forces  which  produced  this  in  the 
 l)erfectly  systematized  social  and  religious  codes  of  Babylonia  with  which 
 they  came  so  intimately  associated.  The  national  temple  was  the  centre 
 of  all  religious  life,  as  the  second  temple  became  to  the  Jews.  The  great 
 temple  was  fed  by  the  local  temples,  which  existed  in  all  towns  and 
 villages,  and  which  corresponded  to  that  important  post-captivity  institu- 
 tion, the  Synagogue.  The  Babylonian  festivals  corresponded  to  the 
 Hebrew  great  festivals  almost  day  for  day.  In  Nisan  the  feast  of  the  spring 
 or  opening,  which  varied  from  the  first  to  the  eighth  or  fifteenth  of  Nisan 
 according  to  the  period  of  the  equinox,  corresponded  to  the  Passover.  In 
 Tisri  there  came  the  harvest  feast,  the  feast  of  tabernacles  ;  while  the 
 strange  festival  of  darkness  and  weeping  on  the  fifteenth  of  Adar,  which 
 preceded  "  the  great  day  when  the  destinies  of  all  men  were  forecast,'' 
 bears  a  strange  resemblance  to  the  Jewish  feast  of  Purim.  The  temple  of 
 the  Babylonians  was  essentially  the  same  in  name  and  construction  and 
 arrangement  as  that  of  the  Jews.  The  Hekal,  the  "  holy  place,"  literally 
 the  "  palace,'' was  separated  as  in  the  Jewish  temple  from  the  holy  of 
 holies,  by  a  veil.  This  latter  was  called  by  the  name  of  parakku,  the 
 "shut-off  portion,"  a  word  cognate  with  the  \{q}xq\s paroketh,  "the  veil." 
 Within  it  were  the  most  precious  records  of  the  people  or  city,  similar  to 
 the  Jewish  ark,  placed  in  stone  cists,  as  in  the  temples  at  Ballawat  and 
 -Sippara.  Immediately  above  them  was  the  throne  of  the  god,  covered  by 
 a  species  of  baldachifio,  corresponding  to  the  mercy-seat,  and  supported  by 
 Kerubim,  or  composite  figures.  Most  of  their  institutions  which  distin- 
 guished them  from  the  Gentle  {goi/n)  nations  are  to  be  found  in  Babylonia. 
 The  Sabbath,  called  by  the  Babylonians  the  white  day,  "  or  the  day  of  the 
 rest  of  the  heart,"  was  kept  on  the  seventh,  fourteenth,  twenty-first,  and 
 twenty-eighth  days  with  a  strictness  as  great  as  that  of  the  most  Pharisaic 
 Jews.  No  food  was  to  be  cooked,  no  fire  to  be  lit,  the  clothes  of  the  body 
 might  not  be  changed,  it  was  even  unlawful  to  wash.  The  king  might  not 
 ride  in  his  chariot  or  exercise  any  act  of  judgment  or  royalty.  Sacrifice 
 must  not  be  offered  until  after  sunset,  wiien  the  Sabbath  was  over.  One 
 remarkable  restriction  was,  that  no  medicine  should  be  taken.  "  Medicine 
 for  the  sickness  of  his  body  he  shall  not  apply,"  which,  no  doubt,  gave  rise 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  BABYLONIA.  25 
 
 to  the  Pharisaic  question  to  Jesus,  "  Is  it  lawful  to  heal  on  the  Sabbath 
 day?"  In  addition  to  this,  even  that  distinctive  ceremony  which  the 
 Jews  regarded  as  characteristic  of  their  people,  the  rite  of  circumcision,  we 
 now  know  was  a  Chaldean  custom  long  before  Abram  left  his  Chaldean 
 home.  With  these  remarkable  resemblances  it  is  not  astonishing  that  in  so 
 short  a  time  the  Samaritan  colonists  from  Babylonia  became  assimilated  to 
 Judaism.  The  laws  which  had  been  sufficient  for  the  Hebrew  people  in 
 the  early  nomadic  stages  of  their  life,  in  the  first  settlement  in  Palestine 
 under  the  patriarchs  and  their  wanderings  in  the  desert,  was  totally  in- 
 adequate for  the  new  life  of  the  city  and  town  dweller.  We  now  find  the 
 captivity  producing  that  wonderful  compendium  of  laws,  entering  into  the 
 minutest  details  of  civic,  domestic,  and  social  life,  the  Talmud  ;  and  when 
 we  examine  these  laws,  it  is  perfectly  apparent  that  the  whole  is  based  upon 
 the  precedents  of  Babylonian  laws. 
 
 The  captivity  was  truly  the  renaissance  of  the  Jewish  people.  Broken 
 into  divers  factions,  disintegrated  in  all  their  national  affinities  :  with  no 
 common  bond,  no  common  aim,  with  a  half-developed  religion  confined 
 almost  exclusively  to  the  school  of  Jerusalem  prophets.  We  find  them 
 returning  from  a  short  captivity  of  less  than  seventy  years,  a  changed  and 
 new  people.  Zealous  of  the  worship  of  the  national  god — impregnated 
 with  a  national  love  and  spirit,  so  deeply  ingrained  into  their  nature  that 
 the  severest  persecutions  to  which  any  body  of  people  has  been  subjected 
 have  failed  to  eradicate  it  from  the  hearts  of  even  the  poorest  and  the 
 weakest.  Entering  Babylon  with  an  incomplete  law,  they  emerge  with  a 
 religious  and  secular  code  perfect  in  all  its  branches.  With  these  facts 
 before  us  we  cannot  too  highly  estimate  the  influence  of  Babylonia  as  a 
 centre  of  religious  development  and  influence. 
 
 In  my  lecture  this  afternoon,  I  have  been  able  to  deal  with  only  one 
 section  in  the  vast  mass  of  Babylonian  literature — but  certainly,  I  believe, 
 the  most  important  section.  The  material  is  ample,  the  work  has  been 
 the  result  of  the  labour  of  a  few  patient  students  ;  but  the  time  will  come 
 — is  rapidly  drawing  near,  when  no  student  of  the  science  of  religion  will 
 feel  his  work  complete  without  a  careful  study  of  these  ancient  tomes, 
 which  for  centuries  have  lain  hidden  in  the  treasure-houses  of  antiquity. 
 From  them  we  learn  that  not  only  was  Babylon  the  motherland  of  culture 
 and  civilization,  of  arts,  science,  and  letters,  but  also  that  in  her  temple 
 schools  were  taught  the  first  principles  of  many  of  the  great  doctrines  of 
 religion  which  we  hear  at  the  present  day  set  forth  from  our  pulpits. 
 
THE   RELIGION   OF  THE   ASSYRIANS. 
 
 By  Canon  George  Rawlinson. 
 
 Of  all  the  nations  of  remote  antiquity— of  those,  I  mean,  which  flourished 
 before  the  rise  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans  into  a  conspicuous  place— there 
 is  none  which  occupies  a  higher  position,  or  more  deserves  to  have  a  share 
 in  our  thoughts  and  attention,  than  the  nation  of  the  Assyrians.  "  The 
 Assyrian  was  a  cedar  in  Lebanon,"  says  the  prophet  Ezekiel,  "  fair  of 
 branches,  and  with  a  shadowing  shroud,  and  of  an  high  stature  ;  and  his 
 top  was  among  the  thick  boughs  .  .  .  nor  was  any  tree  in  the  garden 
 of  God  like  unto  him  in  his  beauty  "  (Ezek.  xxxi.  3,  8).  The  Assyrian 
 Empire,  if  we  regard  it  as  continued  in  the  later  Babylonian,  lasted  eight 
 hundred  years,  and  extended,  at  its  acme,  from  the  Persian  Desert  to  the 
 yEgean  Sea  and  the  Sahara.  It  included  in  it  Persia,  Media,  Susiana, 
 Babylonia,  Assyria  Proper,  Mesopotamia,  Armenia,  great  part  of  Asia 
 Minor,  Syria,  Phoenicia,  Palestine,  Idumsea,  and  Egypt.  It  was  the  first 
 example  of  a  really  great  empire.  It  consolidated  all  Western  Asia  under 
 a  single  head.  It  broke  the  power  of  the  Egyptians.  It  made  great 
 advances  in  the  arts.  At  a  time  when  Europe  was  sunk  in  barbarism  it 
 had  reached  a  degree  of  civilization  far  from  contemptible — in  most  points 
 equal,  in  many  superior,  to  the  boasted  civilization  of  Egypt. 
 
 Besides  the  general  interest  attaching  to  Assyria  from  its  power  and 
 position  among  the  nations  of  the  ancient  world,  a  special  interest  must 
 always  attach  to  it  in  a  Christian  land  from  the  part  which  it  played  in 
 the  history  of  the  "chosen  people  " — of  that  "  Israel  of  God  "  whereof  the 
 Christian  community  is  the  continuation  and  the  representative.  Assyria 
 was  the  fated  instrument  in  Clod's  hand  for  the  destruction,  first  of  the 
 kingdom  of  Samaria,  and  then  of  the  kingdom  of  Jud?ea,  and  so  for  the 
 elevation  and  purification  of  later  Judaism  by  the  "  sweet  uses  of  adver- 
 sity.' The  names  of  Shalmaneser,  Sennacherib,  Nebuchadnezzar,  must 
 always  remain  "  household  words  "  in  every  land  in  which  the  Bible  is 
 read ;  and  among  Bible  readers  of  any  intelligence,  as  well  as  among 
 students  of  history  generally,  there  must  always  be  a  desire  to  know  what 
 manner  of  men  they  were  whom  those  great  chieftains  led  from  the  banks 
 of  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris  to  those  of  the  Jordan  and  the  Nile,  to 
 Damascus,  Samaria,  Jerusalem,  Memphis. 
 
 The  most  important  element  in  the  tliought  of  a  people,  the  chief 
 influence  by  which  their  cliaracter  is  formed,  and  their  inner  and  even 
 their  outer  life  determined,  is  their  religion.  If  we  would  possess  more 
 than  a  superficial  knowledge  of  the  real  history  of  nations,  we  must  study 
 
 26 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF   THE  ASSYRIANS.  27 
 
 carefully — not  only  the  records  of  their  external  deeds,  and  the  monu- 
 ments that  they  have  left  behind  them,  but — principally  and  above  all 
 else— their  religions. 
 
 With  these  few  preliminary  remarks  on  the  importance  of  the  subject 
 assigned  to  me  in  this  Course  of  Lectures,  I  shall  proceed  to  grapple 
 with  the  task  allotted  me,  and  endeavour  to  set  before  you,  as  simply  and 
 plainly  as  I  can,  the  true  nature  of  the  Assyrian  Religion — or,  at  any  rate, 
 its  leading  characteristics. 
 
 First,  then,  tlie  Assyrian  religion  was  a  polytheism — a  system  in  which 
 the  unity  of  the  Godhead  was  broken  up  into  fragments,  and  a  large 
 number  of  deities  were  presented  as  objects  of  adoration  to  the  worshipper, 
 each  being  regarded  as  distinct  from  all  the  rest,  each  having  his  own 
 form,  his  own  attributes,  his  own  emblems,  his  own  temples.  So  far  as 
 appears,  there  was  no  esoteric  religion,  or  secret  teachuig,  by  which  the 
 gods  were  identified  one  with  another,  and  explained  to  be  mere  aspects 
 of  a  single  deity.  This  was  the  case  in  Egypt,  but  not,  so  far  as  I  can 
 see,  in  Assyria  or  Babylonia.  There  each  god  w-as  a  really  distinct 
 personage.  The  gods,  like  men,  formed  a  community,  in  which  councils 
 were  held,  disputes  took  place,  quarrels  even  might  break  out,  one  god 
 might  injure  or  oppress  another ;  each  acted  as  he  pleased,  according  to 
 his  "own  sweet  will,"  and  wills  might  conflict;  and  so  there  might  even 
 be  "war  in  heaven,"  as  indeed  there  was  upon  one  occasion,  of  which 
 I  shall  speak  at  more  length  further  on. 
 
 Secondly,  there  was  not  even  among  the  gods  a  single  acknowledged 
 chief  ruler.  There  were  certain  gradations  of  rank,  generally,  though 
 not  always,  observed  ;  but  no  authority  was  exercised ;  many  gods  are 
 called  "chief  of  the  gods,"  "king  of  the  gods,"  even  "god  of  the  gods." 
 Each  seems  to  be  supreme  in  his  own  sphere.  Any  one  of  many  may  be 
 taken  by  a  worshipper  as  his  peculiar  god,  and  worshipped  almost  ex- 
 clusively of  the  others.  There  is  no  fiovapx^a — rather  what  the  Greeks 
 would  have  called  dru/);^ttt — "an  absence  of  government." 
 
 Thirdly,  the  polytheism  is  not  very  multitudinous.  We  hear,  indeed, 
 in  certain  passages,  of  the  "4,000  "  and  even  of  the  "  5,000  gods  ;  "  but, 
 practically,  only  some  twenty  distinct  deities  obtain  frequent  mention  in 
 the  inscriptions.  There  are,  indeed,  a  number  of  local  divinities,  river 
 gods,  country  gods,  town  gods,  and  village  gods— but  these  are  suspected 
 to  be  in  many  cases  the  great  gods  of  the  Pantheon,  disguised  under 
 rustic  appellations,  while  in  other  cases  they  are  obscure  and  insignificant 
 l)ersonages,  known  to  few,  and  scarcely  worshipped  by  any.  It  is  not 
 my  intention  to  call  your  attention  to  these  minor  deities,  but  rather  to 
 ask  you  to  concentrate  your  thoughts  for  the  present  on  the  nineteen  or 
 twenty  "great  gods"  of  the  Assyrian  and  Babylonian  Pantheon. 
 
 At  the  head  of  the  Pantheon  in  either  country  stood  a  god,  not  the 
 origin  of  the  others,  not  in  any  real  sense  the  fountain  of  divinity,  but  of 
 higher  rank  and  dignity  than  the  rest—"  the  first  among  equals  "— ordi- 
 
28  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 narily  named  first,  and  assigned  the  titles  of  greatest  honour,  forming  thus 
 the  principal,  or  at  least  the  highest  object  of  worship,  both  to  the  kings 
 and  to  the  people.  This  deity  is,  in  Assyria,  Asshur ;  in  Babylonia.  II 
 (or  Ra).  Some  critics  are  of  opinion  that  the  two  great  gods  are  essen- 
 tially one,  the  Assyrian  Asshur  being  neither  more  nor  less  than  II  (or 
 Ra)  localized,  and  regarded  as  the  special  god  of  Assyria,  the  protector 
 of  the  Assyrian  territory,  and  the  tutelary  divinity  of  the  Assyrian  kings. 
 But  this  view  is  not  generally  accepted,  and  seems  to  rest  upon  no  sure 
 foundations.  There  is  a  marked  difference  of  character  between  the 
 Babylonian  II  and  the  Assyrian  Asshur.  II,  in  the  Babylonian  system, 
 is  dim  and  shadowy:  his  attributes  are,  comparatively  speaking,  indis- 
 tinct ;  and  his  very  name  is  not  of  frequent  occurrence.  Asshur,  in  the 
 Assyrian  system,  is,  of  all  of  the  gods,  by  far  the  most  pronounced  and 
 prominent  figure.  No  name  occurs  so  often  as  his  ;  no  god  has  attributes 
 so  clearly  marked  and  positive.  On  these  grounds  it  has  been  generally 
 iield  that  the  two  are  not  to  be  identified,  but  to  be  kept  distinct,  and 
 to  be  regarded  as  respectively  peculiar  to  the  two  countries.  I  shall, 
 therefore,  speak  of  them  separately. 
 
 II  (or  Ra)  was,  as  I  have  already  said,  a  somewhat  shadowy  being. 
 There  is  a  vagueness  about  the  very  name,  which  simply  means  "god," 
 and  cannot  be  said  to  express  any  particular  attribute.  His  form  is 
 never  represented  on  the  monuments ;  and  his  name  is  omitted  from 
 many  lists,  as  if  he  were  too  holy  to  be  spoken  of  He  does  not  appear 
 to  have  had  any  special  temples  ;  and  his  name  is  rarely  made  an  element 
 in  the  personal  appellations  of  individuals.  He  must,  however,  have 
 been  originally  the  tutelary  deity  of  Babylon,  which  was  named  after  him 
 — Bab-il,  or  "  the  gate  of  II." 
 
 Asshur,  the  Assyrian  substitute  for  II,  was  primarily  and  especially  the 
 tutelary  deity  of  Assyria,  and  of  the  Assyrian  monarchs.  The  land  of 
 Assyria  bears  his  name  without  any  modification  ;  its  inhabitants  are  "  his 
 servants,"  or  "his  people;"  its  troops,  "the  armies  of  the  God  Asshur  ;" 
 its  enemies,  "  the  enemies  of  Asshur."  The  kings  stand  connected  with 
 him  in  respect  of  almost  everything  which  they  do.  He  places  them 
 upon  the  throne,  firmly  establishes  them  in  the  government,  lengthens 
 the  years  of  their  reigns,  preserves  their  power,  ])rotects  their  forts  and 
 armies,  directs  their  expeditions,  gives  them  victory  in  the  day  of  battle, 
 makes  their  name  celebrated,  multiplies  their  offspring  greatly,  and  the 
 like.  To  him  they  look  for  the  fulfilment  of  all  their  wishes,  and  especi- 
 ally for  the  establishment  of  their  sons,  and  their  sons'  sons,  on  the 
 Assyrian  throne  to  the  remotest  ages.  Their  usual  phrase,  when  speaking 
 of  him,  is  "  Asshur,  ;//^  Lord."  They  represent  themselves  as  passing 
 their  lives  in  his  service.  It  is  to  spread  his  worship  that  they  carry  on 
 their  wars.  They  fight,  ravage,  and  destroy  in  his  name.  Finally,  when 
 they  subdue  a  country,  they  arc  careful  to  "  set  up  the  cml)lems  of  .Vsshur," 
 and  to  make  the  people  conform  to  his  laws. 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  THE  ASSYRIANS.  29 
 
 The  ordinary  titles  of  Asshur  are  :  "  The  great  lord,"  "the  king  of  all 
 the  gods,"  "  he  who  rules  supreme  over  the  gods."  He  is  also  called 
 occasionally  "  the  father  of  the  gods,"  although  that  is  a  title  which 
 belongs  more  properly  to  another  deity.  He  is  figured  as  a  man  with  a 
 horned  cap  and  often  carrying  a  bow — issuing  from  the  middle  of  a 
 winged  circle,  and  either  shooting  an  arrow  from  the  bow,  or  stretching 
 forth  his  hand,  as  if  to  aid  or  smite.  The  winged  circle  by  itself  is  also 
 used  as  his  emblem,  and  probably  denotes  his  ubiquity  and  eternity,  as 
 the  human  form  does  his  intelligence,  and  the  horned  cap  his  power. 
 This  emblem — the  winged  circle — either  with  or  without  the  human 
 figure,  is  an  almost  invariable  accompaniment  of  Assyrian  royalty.  The 
 "  great  king "  wears  it  embroidered  upon  his  robes,  carries  it  engraved 
 upon  his  seal  or  cylinder,  represents  it  above  his  head  in  the  rock  tablets 
 whereon  he  carves  his  image,  kneels  or  stands  in  adoration  before  it, 
 fights  under  its  shadow,  under  its  protection  returns  victorious,  places  it 
 conspicuously  upon  his  obelisks  and  other  monuments  ;  and,  in  all  these 
 representations,  it  is  remarkable  how,  by  slight  modifications,  he  makes 
 the  emblem  conform  to  the  circumstances  of  his  own  employment  at  the 
 time.  When  he  is  fighting,  Asshur,  too,  has  his  arrow  upon  the  string, 
 and  points  it  against  the  monarch's  adversaries.  When  he  is  returning 
 home  victorious  with  the  disused  bow  in  his  left  hand,  and  his  right  hand 
 outstretched  and  elevated,  Asshur  has  the  same  attitude.  In  peaceful 
 scenes  the  bow  disappears  altogether.  If  the  king  worships,  the  god  holds 
 out  his  hand  to  aid  ;  if  he  is  engaged  in  secular  acts,  the  divine  presence 
 is  thought  to  be  sufficiently  marked  by  the  circle  and  the  wings  without 
 the  human  figure. 
 
 In  immediate  succession  to  Asshur  in  Assyria,  and  II  (or  Ra)  in  Baby- 
 lonia, we  find  in  both  countries  a  Triad,  consisting  of  Anu,  Bel,  and  Hea  (or 
 Hoa).  These  three  are  called  in  some  places  specially  and  distinctively  "  the 
 iireat  sods."  In  execrations,  where  curses  are  mvoked  on  those  who  shall 
 do  certain  acts,  they  are  separated  off  from  all  the  other  deities,  and  placed 
 tocfether  in  a  clause,  which  stands  at  the  head  of  the  entire  list  of  ana- 
 themas.  In  invocations  their  names  follow,  for  the  most  part,  immedi- 
 ately after  the  name  of  Asshur  ;  and  this  is  their  usual  and  proper  place 
 in  all  complete  lists  of  the  chief  gods.  Anu  and  Bel  in  the  Babylonian 
 system  are  brothers,  both  of  them  being  sons  of  II  (or  Ra) ;  but  this 
 relationship  is  scarcely  acknowledged  in  Assyria.  Hea,  in  both  countries, 
 stands  apart,  unconnected  with  the  other  two,  but  still  their  equal,  and 
 joined  with  them  in  a  Triad,  wherein  he  occupies  the  third  place. 
 
 It  has  been  conjectured  by  M.  Francois  Lenormant,  that  in  this  triad 
 we  have  a  cosmogonic  myth,  and  that  the  three  deities  which  form  it 
 represent — Anu,  the  primordial  chaos,  or  matter  without  form  ;  Hea,  life 
 and  intelligence,  considered  as  moving  in  and  animating  matter;  and 
 Bel,  the  organizing  and  creating  spirit,  by  which  matter  was  actually 
 brought  into  subjection,  and  the  material  universe  evoked  out  of  chaos 
 
30  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 ;ind  settled  in  an  orderly  way.  But  it  may  be  questioned  whether  the 
 veil  which  hides  the  inner  meaning  of  the  Assyrian  religion,  if  it  had  an 
 inner  meaning,  is  as  yet  sufficiently  lifted  to  entitle  mere  conjectures  on 
 its  true  import  to  much  attention.  For  my  own  part,  I  believe  that  Ann, 
 Bel,  and  Hea  were  originally  the  gods  respectively  of  the  earth,  of  the 
 heavens,  and  of  the  waters,  thus  corresponding  in  the  main  to  the  well- 
 known  Pluto,  Zeus  or  Jupiter,  and  Poseidon  or  Neptune,  of  the  Greeks 
 and  Romans,  who  divided  between  them  the  dominion  over  the  visible 
 creation.  But  this  early  belief  became,  in  course  of  time,  overlaid  to 
 a  great  extent  with  other  notions ;  and  though  Hea  continued  always 
 to  have,  more  or  less,  the  character  of  a  water  deity,  Anu  and  Bel  ceased 
 to  have  peculiar  spheres,  and  became  merely  "  great  gods,"  with  a  general 
 superintendence  over  the  world,  and  with  no  very  marked  difterence  of 
 powers. 
 
 Anu  is  commonly  spoken  of  as  "  the  old  Anu,"  "  the  original  chief,'' 
 "  the  king  of  the  lower  world,"  and  "  the  lord  of  spirits  and  demons." 
 There  is  one  text  in  which  he  seems  to  be  called  "  the  father  of  the  gods  ;" 
 but  the  reading  is  doubtful.  We  cannot  identify  as  his  any  one  of  the 
 divine  forms  which  appear  on  the  Assyrian  or  Babylonian  cylinders  or 
 other  monuments  ;  nor  can  we  assign  to  him  any  distinct  emblem,  unless 
 it  be  that  of  the  single  upright  wedge,  which  rei)resents  him  on  the  Chal- 
 dsean  numeration  tablets.  This  single  upright  wedge  has  the  numerical 
 power  of  "  sixty  ; "  and  sixty  appears  to  have  been  assigned  to  Anu  as 
 his  special  number.  Though  a  "great  god,"  he  was  not  one  towards 
 whom  much  preference  was  shown.  His  name  is  scarcely  ever  found 
 as  an  element  in  royal  or  other  appellations  ;  the  kings  do  not  very  often 
 mention  it,  and  only  one  monarch — the  first  Tiglath-pileser  (about  B.C. 
 1 130) — speaks  of  himself  as  Anu's  special  votary. 
 
 The  second  god  of  the  first  Triad — the  god  Bel — familiarly  known  to 
 us  by  the  mentions  of  him  which  occur  in  the  canonical  Scriptures  and  in 
 the  Apocrypha,  is  one  of  the  most  marked  and  striking  figures  in  the 
 Pantheon  alike  of  Babylonia  and  of  Assyria.  Bel  is  "  the  god  of  lords," 
 "  the  father  of  the  gods,"  "  the  creator,"  "  the  mighty  prince,"  and  "  the 
 just  prince  of  the  gods."  He  plays  a  leading  part  in  the  mythological 
 legends,  which  form  so  curious  a  feature  in  the  Babylonian  and  Assyrian 
 religion.  In  the  History  of  Creation  we  are  told  that  Bel  made  the  earth 
 and  the  heaven  ;  that  he  formed  man  by  a  mixture  of  his  own  blood  with 
 earth,  and  also  formed  beasts,  and  that  afterwards  he  created  the  sun  and 
 the  moon,  and  tlio  five  planets.  In  the  War  of  the  Gods  we  find  him 
 <;ontending  witii  the  great  dragon,  Tiamat,  and  after  a  terrible  single 
 combat  destroying  her  by  flinging  a  thunderbolt  mto  her  open  mouth. 
 He  also,  in  conjunction  with  Hea,  plans  the  defence  when  the  seven 
 spirits,  of  evil  rise  in  rebellion,  and  the  dwelling-place  of  the  gods  is 
 assaulted  by  them.  Ihe  titles  of  Bel  generally  express  dominion.  He 
 is  "the  l.ox^"  par  txieik/ice,  which  is  the  exact  meaning  of  his  name  in 
 
THE  RELIGION   OF   THE  ASSYRIANS.  31 
 
 Assyrian  ;  he  is  "  the  king  of  all  the  spirits,"  "  the  lord  of  the  world,"  and 
 again  "the  lord  of  all  the  countries."  Babylon  and  Nineveh  are  both 
 of  them  under  his  special  care,  Nineveh  having  the  title  of  "  the  city  of 
 Bel "  in  some  passages  of  the  inscriptions.  His  chief  temples  were  at 
 Babylon,  at  Nipur,  at  Calah  (now  Nimrud),  and  at  Duraba  [(now 
 Akkerkuf). 
 
 Hea  (or  Hoa),  the  third  god  of  the  first  Triad,  ranks  immediately  after 
 Bel  in  the  complete  lists  of  Assyrian  deities.  He  is  emphatically  one  of  the 
 "  great  gods,"  and  is  called  "the  king,"  "  the  great  inventor,"  and  "the 
 determiner  of  destinies."  I  have  already  remarked  that  he  is  especially 
 connected  with  the  element  of  water,  and  hence  he  is  "  the  king  of  the 
 deep,"  "  the  king  of  rivers,"  "  the  lord  of  fountains,"  and  to  a  certain 
 extent  "the  lord  of  the  harvest."  In  the  legend  of  Creation  he  is  joined 
 with  Bel  in  the  office  of  guardian,  and  watches  over  the  regularity  of  the 
 planetary  courses.  In  the  War  of  the  Gods  he  and  Bel  plan  the  defence, 
 after  which  Hea  commits  the  execution  of  the  plans  made  to  his  son, 
 Merodach.  In  the  Flood  legend  Hea  naturally  plays  an  important  part, 
 since  water  is  his  element.  It  is  he  who  announces  to  Hasis-adra,  the 
 Babylonian  Noah,  that  a  deluge  is  about  to  destroy  mankind,  and  com- 
 mands him  to  build  a  great  ship,  in  order  that  he  may  escape  it.  It  is 
 he  again  who  opposes  the  wish  of  Bel  to  make  the  destruction  complete, 
 and  persuades  him  to  let  Hasis-adra  and  his  family  come  out  safe  from 
 the  ark.  In  the  tale  of  Ishtar's  descent  into  Hades,  Hea's  counsel  is 
 sought  by  the  moon-god  ;  and  by  a  skilful  device  he  obtains  the  restora- 
 tion of  the  queen  of  love  to  the  upper  world.  Indeed,  tliroughout  the 
 whole  of  the  mythology  we  find  all  clever  inventions  and  well-laid  plans 
 ascribed  to  him,  so  that  his  history  quite  justifies  his  title  of  "lord  of 
 deep  thoughts."  Hea  is  probably  intended  by  the  Oe  of  Helladiu.s,  and 
 the  Cannes  of  Berosus,  who  came  up  out  of  the  Persian  Gulf,  and  instructed 
 the  first  settlers  on  the  Lower  Tigris  and  Euphrates  in  letters,  science, 
 religion,  law,  and  agriculture. 
 
 In  direct  succession  to  the  three  gods  of  the  first  Triad — Anu,  Bel,  and 
 Hea  (or  Hoa),  we  find  a  second  still  more  widely  recognised  Triad,  com- 
 prising the  moon-god,  the  sun-god,  and  the  god  of  the  atmosphere.  There 
 is  much  difference  of  opinion  with  respect  to  the  name  of  the  last  god  01 
 these  three,  which  is  never  spelt  phonetically,  but  only  represented  by  a 
 monogram.  He  has  been  called  Iva  (or  Yav),  Vul,  Bin,  Yem  (or  Im),  and 
 recently  Rimmon.  It  does  not  much  signify  which  of  these  names  is  pre- 
 ferred, as  all  rest  upon  conjecture  ;  but,  since  convenience  requires  that  he 
 should  be  spoken  of  by  a  single  definite  appellation,  I  shall  adopt  that  of 
 "  Yul,"  which  was  originally  given  to  him  by  my  brother.  The  second 
 Triad  then  is  one  consisting  of  Sin,  Shamas,  and  Yul,  the  gods  respectively 
 of  the  moon,  the  sun,  and  the  atmosphere. 
 
 It  is  very  noticeable  that  in  Assyria  and  Babylonia  the  moon-god  took 
 precedence  of  the  sun-god.     Night  was  probably  more  agreeable  to  the 
 
32  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 inhabitants  of  those  hot  regions  than  day ;  and  the  cool,  placid  time  when 
 they  could  freely  contemplate  the  heavens,  and  make  their  stellar  and  other 
 observations,  was  especially  grateful  to  the  priestly  astronomers,  who  had 
 the  superintendence  and  arrangement  of  the  religion.  Sin,  the  moon — the 
 first  element  in  the  name  Sinakhirib  (Sennacherib), — is  thus  one  of  the 
 leading  deities.  He  is  called  "  the  chief  of  the  gods  of  heaven  and  earth," 
 "  the  king  of  the  gods,"  and  even  "  the  god  of  the  gods."  These  seem, 
 however,  to  be  honorific  expressions,  used  by  his  votaries  in  the  warmth  of 
 their  hearts,  with  some  touch  of  Oriental  hyperbole.  Sin  was  more  pro- 
 perly "the  illuminator,"  "he  who  dwells  in  the  sacred  heavens,"  "he  who 
 circles  round  the  heavens,"  and  "  the  lord  of  the  month."  Further,  for 
 some  recondite  reason  which  is  not  explained,  he  was  selected  to  preside 
 over  architecture ;  and,  in  this  connection,  he  is  "  the  supporting  architect," 
 "  the  strengthener  of  fortifications,"  and  "  the  lord  of  building."  A  close 
 bond  of  sympathy  united  Sin  with  the  two  other  members  of  the  second 
 Triad.  When  the  seven  spirits  of  evil  made  war  in  heaven,  and  directed 
 their  main  attack  upon  Sin,  as  the  chief  leader  of  the  angelic  host,  Shamas 
 and  Vul  instantly  came  to  his  aid,  withstood  the  evil  spirits,  and,  fighting 
 firmly  side  by  side  with  Sin,  succeeded  in  repulsing  them.  The  three  gods 
 are  frequently  conjoined  in  invocations,  anathemas,  and  the  like.  In  offer- 
 ings and  festivals,  however,  Sin  is  united  with  Shamas  only,  the  place  of  Vul 
 being  taken  by  a  goddess  who  is  entitled  "the  divine  mistress  of  the  world." 
 
 Sin  was  among  the  gods  most  widely  and  devoutly  worshipped,  both  in 
 Babylonia  and  Assyria.  He  had  temples  at  Ur,  Borsippa,  Babylon,  Calah, 
 and  Dur  Sargina.  The  third  month  of  the  year,  called  Sivan,  was  dedi- 
 cated to  him.  In  another  month  not  so  dedicated,  we  find  sacrifice  to 
 him  prescribed  on  nine  days  of  the  thirty.  His  name  was  widely  used  as 
 an  element  in  royal  and  other  appellations,  as  in  Sennacherib,  Sin-iddina, 
 Sin-gasit,  Naram  Sin,  Sin-taggil,  Sin-shar-uzur,  and  the  like.  A  crescent 
 moon  is  the  ordinary  emblem  of  Sin  ;  but  sometimes  he  is  represented  in  a 
 human  form,  with  a  long  robe  about  him  and  a  triple  crown  upon  his 
 head,  the  crown  being  surmounted  by  a  crescent. 
 
 Shamas,  the  sun-god,  occupies  the  middle  position  in  the  second  Triad, 
 which  is  either  "  A'ul,  Shamas,  Sin,"  or  "  Sin,  Shamas,  Vul,"  but  more 
 commonly  the  latter.  His  titles  are  either  general  or  special.  In  a  general 
 way  he  is  called  "  the  establisher  of  heaven  and  earth,"  "  the  judge  of 
 heaven  and  earth,"  "  the  warrior  of  the  world,"  and  "  the  regent  of  all 
 things  " ;  while,  with  direct  reference  to  his  physical  nature,  he  is  "  the 
 lord  of  fire,"  "  the  light  of  the  gods,"  "  the  ruler  of  tlie  day,"  and  "  he  who 
 illumines  the  expanse  of  heaven  and  earth."  Tlie  Assyrian  kings  regard 
 him  as  affording  them  especial  help  in  war.  He  is  "the  supreme  ruler, 
 who  casts  a  favourable  eye  on  expeditions,"  "  the  vanquisher  of  the  king's 
 enemies,"  "  the  breaker  up  of  opposition."  He  "  casts  his  motive  influ- 
 ence "  over  the  monarchs,  and  "  causes  them  to  assemble  their  chariots 
 and  their  warriors  "  ;  he  "  goes  forth  with  their  armies,"  and  enables  them 
 
THE  RELIGION   OF   THE  ASSYRIANS.  33 
 
 to  extend  their  dominions  ;  he  chases  their  enemies  before  them,  causes 
 opposition  to  cease,  and  brings  them  back  with  victory  to  their  own 
 country.  Besides  this,  in  time  of  peace  he  helps  them  to  sway  the  sceptre 
 of  power,  and  to  rule  over  their  subjects  with  authority.  It  seems  that, 
 from  observing  the  manifest  agency  of  the  material  sun  in  stimulating  all 
 the  functions  of  nature,  the  Assyrians  and  Babylonians  came  to  the  con- 
 clusion that  the  sun-god  exercised  a  similar  influence  over  the  minds  of 
 men,  and  was  the  great  motive  agent  in  human  history. 
 
 The  worship  of  Shamas  was  universal.  The  seventh  month,  Tisri,  was 
 dedicated  to  him,  and,  in  the  second,  EIul — the  intercalary  month — he 
 had,  like  the  moon-god,  nine  festivals.  His  emblem  appears  upon  almost 
 all  the  religious  cylinders  ;  and  in  almost  all  lists  of  the  gods  his  name 
 holds  a  high  place.  Sometimes  he  is  a  member  of  a  Triad,  composed  of 
 himself  together  with  Sin  and  Asshur.  In  the  mythological  legends,  how- 
 ever, he  is  not  very  frequently  mentioned.  We  find  him,  indeed,  defend- 
 ing the  moon-god,  in  conjunction  with  Vul,  when  the  seven  spirits  made 
 their  assault  upon  heaven  ;  and  in  the  Deluge  tablets  we  are  told  that  it 
 was  he  who  actually  made  the  Flood.  But  otherwise  the  Assyrian  myth- 
 ology is  silent  concerning  him,  offering  in  this  respect  a  remarkable  con- 
 trast to  the  Egyptian,  where  the  sun  is  the  principal  figure. 
 
 Vul,  the  god  of  the  atmosphere,  who  completes  the  second  Triad,  has, 
 on  the  whole,  a  position  quite  equal  to  that  held  by  Sin  and  Shamas,  whom 
 he  even,  occasionally,  precedes  in  the  lists.     Some  kings  seem  to  place 
 him  on  a  par  with  Anu,  or  even  with  Asshur,  recognising  Anu  and  Vul,  or 
 Asshur  and  Vul,  as  especially  "  the  great  gods,"  and  as  their  own  peculiar 
 guardians.     In  a  general  way,  Vul  corresponds  with  the  Indra  of  the  early 
 Hindoos,  or  the  "Jupiter  Tonans  "  of  the  Romans,  being  "the  prince  of 
 the  power  of  the  air,"   the  lord  of  the  whirlwind   and  tempest,  and  the 
 wielder  of  the  thunderbolt.     His  most  common  titles  are,  "  the  lord  of  the 
 air,"  "  the  minister  of  heaven  and  earth,"  and  "  he  who  makes  the  tempest 
 to  rage."     He  is  regarded  as  the  destroyer  of  crops,  the  rooter-up  of  trees, 
 the  scatterer  of  the  harvest ;  famine,  scarcity,  and  even  their  consequence, 
 pestilence,  are  ascribed  to  him.     He  is  said  to  hold  in  his  hands  a  "flaming 
 sword,"  with  which  he  effects  his  ravages  ;  and  this  "  flaming  sword,"  which 
 probably  represents  lightning,  seems  to  form  his  emblem  on  the  tablets 
 and  cylinders,  where  it  is  figured  as  a  double  or  triple  bolt.     But  Vul  has 
 also  a  softer  character.     As  the  god  of  the  atmosphere,  he  gives  the  rain  ; 
 and  hence  he  is  "  the  careful  and  beneficent  chief,"  "  the  giver  of  abund- 
 ance," and  "  the  lord  of  fecundity."     In  this  capacity  he  is  naturally  chosen 
 to  preside  over  canals,  the  great  fertilizers  in  Mesopotamia  ;  and  thus  we 
 find  among  his   titles  "  the  lord  of  canals,"  and  "  the  establisher  of  works 
 of  irrigation." 
 
 Next  in  succession  to  the  eight  gods  already  described,  may  be  placed 
 six  goddesses,  closely  connected  witli  six  of  them.  It  is  a  general  rule  of 
 Oriental  mythologies,  that  each  male  principle  shall  have  a  female  counter- 
 
 VOL.   I.  D 
 
34  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 part.  From  this  rule,  in  the  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  mythology,  the 
 highest  of  the  gods,  II  and  Asshur,  are  exempt;  but  otherwise  almost  all 
 the  principal  deities  are  united  in  pairs,  of  whom  one  is  male  and  the  other 
 female.  Anu  has  a  wife  called  Anat  or  Anata,  who  is  a  pale  and  shadowy 
 personage,  the  mere  faint  reflection  of  her  husband,  whose  name  she 
 receives,  merely  modified  by  a  feminine  termination.  Bel  or  Bil  has  a 
 wife,  Bilat,  known  to  the  classical  writers  as  Beltis  or  Mylitta — a  term 
 standing  to  Bil  as  Anat  to  Anu,  but  designating  a  far  more  substantial  per- 
 sonage. Beltis  is  "  the  mother  of  the  gods,"  "  the  great  goddess,"  "  the 
 great  lady,"  "  the  queen  of  the  lands,"  and  "  the  queen  of  fecundity."  She 
 corresponds  to  the  Cybele  of  the  Phrygians,  the  Rhea  of  the  Greeks,  and 
 the  "Magna  Mater"  or  "Bona  Dea"  of  the  Romans.  Occasionally  she 
 adds  to  this  character  the  attributes  of  Bellona,  and  even  of  Diana,  being 
 spoken  of  as  presiding  over  war  and  hunting.  The  wife  of  Hea  has  been 
 called  Dav-kina,  Nin-azu,  and  Nin-ki-gal.  She  is  called  "  the  queen  of 
 Hades,"  and  "  the  lady  of  the  house  of  death."  She  was  the  mistress  of 
 the  realms  below,  while  on  earth  she  had  the  special  office  of  watching  and 
 soothing  the  last  hours  of  the  dying.  To  the  wife  of  Sin,  no  proper  name 
 is  given  ;  but  she  is  frequently  associated  with  her  husband  under  the 
 appellation  of  "  the  great  lady."  The  wife  of  Shamas  is  Gula  or  Anunit. 
 She  was,  like  Beltis,  "a  great  goddess,"  but  had  a  less  distinctive  character, 
 being  little  more  than  a  female  sun.  Finally,  Vul  had  a  wife  called  Shala 
 or  Tala,  whose  common  title  is  sarraf,  "  queen,"  but  who  is  a  colourless 
 and  insignificant  personage. 
 
 We  now  come  to  a  group  of  five  deities,  who  are  connected  together  by 
 the  fact  that  they  have,  all  of  them,  an  unmistakably  astral  character. 
 These  are  Nin  or  Ninip,  Marduk  or  Merodach,  Nergal,  Ishtar,  and  Nebo, 
 who  correspond  respectively  to  the  planets  Saturn,  Jupiter,  Mars,  Venus, 
 and  Mercury. 
 
 Nin  (or  Ninip),  who  presided  over  the  most  distant  of  the  visible  planets, 
 Saturn,  was  more  an  object  of  worship  in  Assyria  than  in  Babylonia.  He 
 has  been  called  "  the  Assyrian  Hercules  ; "  and  no  doubt  he  in  many 
 respects  resembles  that  hero  of  the  classical  nations.  Among  his  titles  are 
 he  following  :  "The  lord  of  the  brave,"  "the  warlike,"  "the  champion," 
 "the  warrior  who  subdues  foes,"  "the  reducer  of  the  disobedient,"  "the 
 exterminator  of  rebels,"  "the  powerful  lord,"  "  the  exceeding  strong  god," 
 and  "  he  whose  sword  is  good."  He  presides  in  a  great  measure  both  over 
 war  and  hunting.  Most  of  the  Assyrian  monarchs  represent  themselves  as 
 going  out  to  war  under  his  auspices,  and  ascribe  their  successes  mainly  to 
 his  interposition.  He  is  especially  useful  to  them  in  the  subjection  of 
 rebels.  He  also  upon  some  occasions  incites  them  to  engage  in  the  chase, 
 and  aids  them  strenuously  in  their  encounters  with  wild  bulls  and  lions. 
 It  is  thought  that  he  was  emblematically  portrayed  in  the  winged  and 
 human-headed  bull  which  forms  so  striking  a  feature  in  the  architectural 
 erections  of  the  Assyrians. 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF   THE  ASSYRIANS.  35 
 
 As  Nin  was  a  favourite  Assyrian,  so  Merodach  was  a  favourite  Baby- 
 lonian, god.  From  the  earliest  times  the  Babylonian  monarchs  placed  him 
 in  the  highest  rank  of  deities,  worshipping  him  in  conjunction  with  Anu, 
 Bel,  and  Hea,  the  three  gods  of  the  first  Triad.  The  great  temple  of 
 Babylon,  known  to  the  Greeks  as  the  "  Temple  of  Bel,"  was  certainly  dedi- 
 cated to  him  ;  and  it  would  therefore  seem  that  the  later  Babylonians,  at 
 any  rate,  must  have  applied  to  him  the  name  of  Bel,  or  "  lord,"  which  in 
 earlier  times  had  designated  a  different  member  of  their  Pantheon.  Mero- 
 dach's  ordinary  titles  are  "the  great,"  "  the  great  lord,"  "  the  prince,"  "the 
 prince  of  the  gods,'  and  "  the  august  god."  He  is  also  called  "  the  judge," 
 "  the  most  ancient,"  "  he  who  judges  the  gods,"  "  the  eldest  son  of  heaven," 
 and,  in  one  place,  "the  lord  of  battles."  Occasionally  he  has  still  higher 
 and  seemingly  exclusive  designations,  such  as  "  the  great  lord  of  eternity," 
 "  the  king  of  heaven  and  earth,"  "  the  lord  of  all  beings,"  "  the  chief  of  the 
 gods,"  and  "the  god  of  gods."  15ut  these  titles  do  not  seem  to  be  meant 
 exclusively.  Merodach  is  held  in  considerable  honour  among  the 
 Assyrians,  being  often  coupled  with  Asshur,  or  with  Asshur  and  Nebo,  as 
 a  war-god,  one  by  whom  kings  gain  victories  and  obtain  the  destruction  of 
 their  enemies.  But  it  is  in  Babylonia,  and  especially  in  the  later  Baby- 
 lonian Empire  under  Nebuchadnezzar  and  Neriglissar,  that  his  worship 
 culminates.  It  is  then  that  all  the  epithets  of  the  highest  honour  are 
 accumulated  upon  him,  and  that  he  becomes  an  almost  exclusive  object  of 
 worship:  it  is  then  that  we  find  such  expressions  as — "I  supplicate  the 
 king  of  gods,  the  lord  of  lords,  in  Borsippa,  the  city  of  his  loftiness ;  "  and 
 "  O  god  Merodach,  great  lord,  lord  of  the  house  of  the  gods,  light  of  the 
 gods,  father,  even  for  thy  high  honour,  which  changeth  not,  a  temple  have 
 I  built !  " 
 
 In  his  stellar  character  Merodach  represented  the  planet  Jupiter,  with 
 which  he  was  supposed  to  have  a  very  intimate  connection.  The  eighth 
 month,  Marchesvan,  was  dedicated  to  him.  In  the  second,  Elul,  he  had 
 three  festivals — on  the  third,  on  the  seventh,  and  on  the  sixteenth  day. 
 
 Nergal,  who  presided  over  the  planet  INIars,  was  essentially  a  war  god. 
 His  name  signifies  "  the  great  man,"  or  "  the  great  hero  ; "  and  his  com- 
 monest titles  are  "  the  mighty  hero,"  "  the  king  of  battle,"  "the  destroyer," 
 "  the  champion  of  the  gods,"  and  "  the  great  brother."  He  "goes  before  " 
 the  kings  in  their  warlike  expeditions,  and  helps  them  to  confound  and 
 scatter  their  enemies.  Nor  is  he  above  lending  them  his  assistance  when 
 they  indulge  in  the  pleasures  of  the  chase.  One  of  his  titles  is  "  the  god 
 of  hunting  ; "  and,  while  originally  subordinated  to  Nin  in  this  relation, 
 ultimately  he  outstrips  his  rival,  and  becomes  the  especial  patron  of 
 hunters  and  sportsmen.  Asshur-bani-pal,  who  is  conspicuous  among  the 
 Assyrian  kings  for  his  intense  love  of  field  sports,  uniformly  ascribes  his 
 successes  to  Nergal, -and  does  not  even  join  with  him  any  other  deity. 
 Nergal's  embem  was  the  human-headed  and  winged  lion,  which  is  usually 
 seen,  as  it  were  on  guard,  at  the  entrances  of  the  royal  palaces. 
 
36  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Ishtar,  who  was  called  Nana  by  the  Babylonians,  corresponded  both  in 
 name  and  attributes  with  the  Astarte  (or  Ashtoreth)  of  the  Phoenicians  and 
 Syrians.  Like  the  Greek  Aphrodite  and  the  Roman  Venus,  she  was  the 
 queen  of  love  and  beauty,  the  goddess  who  presided  over  marriage,  and 
 even  over  the  loves  of  animals.  Her  own  frailty  was  notorious.  In  one 
 of  the  Izdubar  legends  she  courts  that  romantic  individual,  who,  however, 
 declines  her  advances,  reminding  her  that  her  favour  had  always  proved 
 fatal  to  those  persons  on  whom  she  had  previously  bestowed  her  affections. 
 There  can  be  littte  doubt  that — in  Babylon  at  any  rate — she  was  worshipped 
 with  unchaste  rites,  and  that  her  cult  was  thus  of  a  corrupting  and  debasing 
 character.  But,  besides  this  soft  and  sensual  aspect,  Ishtar  had  a  further 
 and  a  nobler  one.  She  corresponded  not  to  Venus  only,  but  also  to 
 Bellona,  being  called  "  the  goddess  of  war  and  battle,"  "  the  queen  of 
 victory,"  "  she  who  arranges  battles,"  and  "  she  who  defends  from  attack." 
 The  Assyrian  kings  very  generally  unite  her  with  Asshur  in  the  accounts 
 which  they  give  of  their  military  expeditions,  speaking  of  their  forces  as 
 those  which  Asshur  and  Ishtar  have  committed  to  their  charge,  of  their 
 battles  as  fought  in  the  service  of  Asshur  and  Ishtar,  and  of  their  triumphs 
 as  the  result  of  Asshur  and  Ishtar  aiding  them  and  exalting  them  above 
 their  enemies.  Ishtar  had  also  some  general  titles  of  a  lofty  but  vague 
 character ;  she  was  called  "  the  fortunate,"  "  the  happy,"  "  the  great 
 goddess,"  "  the  mistress  of  heaven  and  earth,"  and  "  the  queen  of  all  the 
 gods  and  goddesses."  In  her  stellar  character  she  presided  over  the  planet 
 Venus  ;  and  the  sixth  month,  Elul,  was  dedicated  to  her. 
 
 Nebo,  the  last  of  the  five  planetary  deities,  presided  over  Mercury.  It 
 was  his  special  function  to  have  under  his  charge  learning  and  knowledge. 
 He  is  called  "  the  god  who  possesses  intelligence,"  "  he  who  hears  from 
 afar,"  "  he  who  teaches,"  or  "he  who  teaches  and  instructs."  The  tablets 
 of  the  royal  library  at  Nineveh  are  said  to  contain  "  the  wisdom  of  Nebo." 
 He  is  also,  like  Mercury,  the  minister  of  the  gods,  but  scarcely  their  mes- 
 senger— an  office  which  belongs  to  a  god  called  Baku.  At  the  same  time, 
 as  has  been  noticed  in  the  case  of  other  gods,  Nebo  has  a  number  of 
 general  titles,  implying  divine  power,  which,  if  they  had  belonged  to  him 
 alone,  would  have  seemed  to  prove  him  to  be  the  Supreme  Deity.  He  is 
 "  the  lord  of  lords,  who  has  no  ecjual  in  favour,"  "  the  sui)reme  chief,"  "  the 
 sustainer,"  "the  supporter,"  "the  ever-ready,"  "the  guardian  of  heaven 
 and  earth,"  "  the  lord  of  the  constellations,"  "  the  holder  of  the  sceptre  of 
 power,"  "  he  who  grants  to  kings  the  sceptre  of  royalty  for  the  governance 
 of  their  people."  It  is  chiefly  by  his  omission  from  several  lists,  combined 
 with  his  humble  place  when  he  is  mentioned  together  with  the  really 
 "  great  gods  "  that  we  are  assured  of  his  occupying  a  (comparatively)  low 
 position  in  the  general  pantheon. 
 
 The  planetary  gods  had  in  most  cases  a  female  counterpart.  Nebo  was 
 closely  associated  with  a  goddess  called  Urmit  or  Tasmit ;  Nergal  with  one 
 called  Laz,  and  Merodach  with  Zir-panit  or  Zir-banit.    Nin,  the  son  of  Bel 
 
THE   RELIGION  OF   THE  ASSYRIANS.  37 
 
 and  Beltis,  is  sometimes  made  the  husband  of  his  mother,  but  otherwise 
 has  no  female  counterpart.  Ishtar  is  sometimes  coupled  with  Nebo  in  a 
 way  that  might  suggest  her  being  his  wife,  if  it  were  not  that  that  position 
 is  certainly  occupied  by  Urmit. 
 
 The  Assyrians  and  Babylonians  worshipped  their  gods  in  shrines  or 
 chapels  of  no  very  great  size,  to  which,  however,  was  frequently  attached  a 
 lofty  tower,  built  in  stages,  which  were  sometimes  as  many  as  seven.  The 
 tower  could  be  ascended  by  steps  on  the  outside,  and  was  usually  cro\vned 
 by  a  small,  but  richly  adorned,  chapel.  The  gods  were  represented  by 
 images,  which  were  either  of  stone  or  metal,  and  which  bore  the  human 
 form,  excepting  in  two  instances.  Nin  and  Nergal  were  portrayed,  as  the 
 Jews  perhaps  portrayed  the  cherubim,  by  animal  forms  of  great  size  and 
 grandeur,  having  human  heads  and  huge  outstretched  wings.  There  was 
 nothing  hideous,  or  even  grotesque,  about  the  representations  of  the 
 Assyrian  gods.  The  object  aimed  at  was  to  fill  the  spectator  with  feelings 
 of  awe  and  reverence  ;  and  the  divine  figures  have,  in  fact,  universally,  an 
 appearance  of  calm,  placid  strength  and  majesty,  which  is  solemn  and 
 impressive. 
 
 The  gods  were  worshipped,  as  generally  in  the  ancient  world,  by  prayer, 
 praise,  and  sacrifice.  Prayer  was  offered  both  for  one's  self  and  others. 
 The  "  sinfulness  of  sin  "  was  deeply  felt,  and  the  divine  anger  deprecated 
 with  much  earnestness.  "  O  my  lord,"  says  one  suppliant,  "  my  sins  are 
 many,  my  trespasses  are  great  ;  and  the  wrath  of  the  gods  has  plagued  me 
 with  disease,  and  sickness,  and  sorrow.  I  fainted,  but  no  one  stretched 
 forth  his  hand  ;  I  groaned,  but  no  one  drew  nigh  ;  I  cried  aloud,  but  no 
 one  heard.  O  Lord,  do  not  thou  abandon  thy  servant.  In  the  waters  of 
 the  great  storm  do  thou  lay  hold  of  his  hand.  The  sins  which  he  has  com- 
 mitted do  thou  turn  to  righteousness."  Special  intercession  was  made  for 
 the  Assyrian  kings.  Praise  was  even  more  frequent  than  prayer.  Hymns 
 to  the  gods  are  numerous.  Sacrifice  almost  always  accompanied  prayer 
 and  praise.  Every  day  in  the  year  seems  to  have  been  sacred  to  some 
 deity  or  deities  ;  and  some  sacrifice  or  other  was  offered  every  day  by  the 
 monarch,  who  thus  set  an  example  to  his  subjects,  which  they  were  pro- 
 bably not  slow  to  follow.  The  principal  sacrificial  animals  were  bulls,  oxen, 
 sheep,  and  gazelles.  Libations  of  wine  and  the  burning  of  incense  were 
 also  parts  of  the  recognised  worship  ;  and  offerings  might  be  made  of  any- 
 thing valuable. 
 
 It  is  an  interesting  question  how  far  the  Assyrians  and  Babylonians 
 entertained  any  confident  expectation  of  a  future  life;  and,  if  so,  what  view 
 they  took  of  it.  That  the  idea  did  not  occupy  a  prominent  place  in  their 
 minds,  that  there  was  a  strong  contrast  in  this  respect  between  them  and 
 the  people  of  Egypt,  is  palpable  from  the  very  small  number  of  passages  in 
 which  anything  like  an  allusion  to  a  future  life  can  be  even  suspected. 
 Still,  there  certainly  seem  to  be  places  in  which  the  continued  existence 
 of  the  dead   is  assumed,  and  where    the  happiness  of  the  good  and  the 
 
38  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 wretchedness  of  the  wicked  in  the  future  state  are  indicated.  In  one 
 passage  the  happiness  of  the  king  in  another  world  seems  to  be  prayed  for. 
 In  two  or  three  others,  prayer  is  offered  for  a  departing  soul  in  terms  like 
 the  following  : — "  May  the  Sun  give  him  life,  and  Merodach  grant  him  an 
 abode  of  happiness  !  "  Or,  "  To  the  Sun,  the  greatest  of  the  gods,  may  he 
 ascend  ;  and  may  the  Sun,  the  greatest  of  the  gods,  receive  his  soul  into 
 his  holy  hands  !  "  The  nature  of  the  happiness  expected  may  be  gathered 
 from  occasional  notices,  where  the  soul  is  represented  as  clad  in  a  white, 
 radiant  garment,  as  dwelling  in  the  presence  of  the  gods,  and  as  partaking 
 of  celestial  food  in  the  abodes  of  blessedness.  On  the  other  hand,  Hades, 
 the  receptacle  of  the  wicked  after  death,  is  spoken  of  as  "  the  abode  of 
 darkness  and  famine" — the  place  "where  earth  is  men's  food,  and  their 
 nourishment  clay  ;  where  light  is  not  seen,  but  in  darkness  they  dwell ; 
 where  ghosts,  like  birds,  flutter  their  wings  ;  and  on  the  door  and  the  door- 
 posts the  dust  lies  undisturbed."  Different  degrees  of  wickedness  seem  to 
 meet  with  different  and  appropriate  punishments.  There  is  one  place — 
 apparently,  a  jjcnal  fire — reserved  for  unfaithful  wives  and  husbands,  and 
 for  youths  who  have  dishonoured  their  bodies.  M.  Lenormant  seems, 
 therefore,  to  be  in  error  when  he  says  that  "  though  the  Assyrians  recog- 
 nised a  place  of  departed  spirits,  yet  it  was  one  in  which  there  was  no  trace 
 of  a  distinction  of  rewards  and  punishments." 
 
 Among  the  sacred  legends  of  the  Babylonians  and  Assyrians  the  follow- 
 ing were  the  most  remarkable.  They  believed  that  at  a  remote  date, 
 before  tiie  creation  of  the  world,  there  had  been  war  in  heaven.  Seven 
 spirits,  created  by  Anu  to  be  his  messengers,  took  council  together,  and 
 resolved  to  revolt.  "  Against  high  heaven,  the  dwelling-place  of  Anu  the 
 king,  they  plotted  evil,"  and  unexpectedly  made  a  fierce  attack.  The 
 moon-god,  the  sun-god,  and  Vul,  the  god  of  the  atmosphere,  withstood 
 them,  and  after  a  fearful  struggle  beat  them  off.  Then  there  was  peace 
 for  a  while.  But  once  more,  at  a  later  date,  a  fresh  revolt  broke  out. 
 The  hosts  of  heaven  were  assembled  together,  in  number  five  thousand, 
 and  were  engaged  in  singing  a  psalm  of  praise  to  Anu,  when  suddenly  dis- 
 cord arose.  "  With  a  loud  cry  of  contempt  "  a  portion  of  the  angelic  choir 
 "  broke  up  the  holy  song,"  uttering  wicked  blasphemies,  and  so,  "  spoil- 
 ing, confusing,  confounding,  the  hymn  of  praise."  Asshur  was  invited  to 
 j)ut  himself  at  the  head  of  the  rebels,  but  "  refused  to  go  forth  with  them." 
 Their  leader,  who  is  unnamed,  took  the  form  of  a  dragon,  and  in  that 
 shape  contended  with  the  god  Bel,  who  proved  victorious  in  the  combat, 
 and  slew  his  adversary  by  means  of  a  thunderbolt,  which  he  flung  into  the 
 dragon's  gaping  mouth.  Upon  this  the  entire  host  of  the  wicked  angels 
 took  to  flight,  and  was  driven  to  the  abode  of  the  seven  s))irits  of  evil, 
 where  they  were  forced  to  remain,  their  return  to  heaven  being  forbidden. 
 In  their  room  man  was  created. 
 
 The  Chaldsean  legend  of  Creation,  according  to  Berosus,  was  the  follow- 
 ing :  "  In  the   beginning  all  was   darkness  and  water,   and  therein  were 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF   THE  ASSYRIANS.  39 
 
 generated  monstrous  animals  of  strange  and  peculiar  shapes.  There  were 
 men  with  two  wings,  and  some  even  with  four,  and  with  two  faces,  and 
 others  with  two  heads,  a  man's  and  a  woman's ;  and  there  were  men  with 
 the  heads  and  horns  of  goats,  and  men  with  hoofs  like  horses  ;  and  some 
 with  the  upper  parts  of  a  man  joined  to  the  lower  parts  of  a  horse,  like 
 centaurs  ;  and  there  were  bulls  with  human  heads,  dogs  with  four  bodies 
 and  with  fishes'  tails  ;  men  and  horses  with  dogs'  heads ;  creatures  with 
 the  heads  and  bodies  of  horses,  but  with  the  tails  of  fish  ;  and  other 
 animals  mixing  the  forms  of  various  beasts.  Moreover  there  were 
 monstrous  fishes  and  reptiles  and  serpents,  and  divers  other  creatures 
 which  had  borrowed  something  from  each  others'  shapes,  of  all  which  the 
 likenesses  are  still  preserved  in  the  temple  of  Bel.  A  woman  ruled  them 
 all,  by  name  Omorka,  which  means  '  the  sea.'  Then  Bel  came  forward 
 and  split  tlie  woman  in  twain  ;  and  of  the  one  half  of  her  he  made  the 
 heaven,  and  of  the  other  half  the  earth  3  and  the  beasts  that  were  in  her  he 
 caused  to  perish.  And  he  split  the  darkness,  and  divided  the  heaven  and 
 the  earth  asunder,  and  set  the  world  in  order,  and  the  animals  that  could 
 not  bear  the  light  perished.  Bel,  upon  this,  seeing  that  the  earth  was 
 desolate,  yet  teeming  with  productive  power,  commanded  one  of  the  gods 
 to  cut  off  his  head,  and  to  mix  the  blood  which  flowed  forth  with  earth, 
 and  form  men  therewith,  and  beasts  that  could  bear  the  light.  So  man 
 was  made,  and  was  intelligent,  being  a  partaker  of  the  divine  wisdom. 
 Likewise  Bel  made  the  stars,  and  the  sun  and  moon,  and  the  five  planets. 
 
 The  legend  of  the  descent  of  Ishtar  into  Hades  runs  as  follows  :  "  To 
 the  land  of  Hades,  the  land  of  her  desire,  Ishtar,  the  daughter  of  the 
 moon-god  Sin,  turned  her  mind.  When  Ishtar  arrived  at  the  gate  of 
 Hades,  to  the  keeper  of  the  gate  she  spake  :  '  O  Keeper  of  the  entrance 
 open  thy  gate  !  Open  thy  gate,  I  say  again,  that  I  may  enter  in  !  If 
 thou  openest  not  thy  gate,  if  thou  dost  not  let  me  in,  I  will  assault  the  door, 
 the  gate  I  will  break  down,  I  will  attack  the  entrance,  I  will  split  open  the 
 portals.  I  will  raise  the  dead  to  be  the  devourers  of  the  living  !  Upon  the 
 living  the  dead  shall  prey  ! '  Then  the  porter  opened  his  mouth  and  spake, 
 and  thus  he  said  to  great  Ishtar  :  '  Stay,  lady,  do  not  shake  down  the  door; 
 I  will  go  and  inform  Queen  Ninkigal.'  So  the  porter  went  in,  and  to 
 Ninkigal  said:  'Curses  thy  sister  Ishtar  utters;  yea,  she  blasphemes  thee 
 with  fearful  curses.'  And  Ninkigal,  hearing  his  words,  grew  pale,  like  a 
 flower  when  cut  from  the  stem.  Like  the  stalk  of  a  reed  she  shook.  And 
 she  said,  '  I  will  cure  her  rage  ;  I  will  speedily  cure  her  fury.  Her  curses 
 I  will  repay.  Light  up  consuming  (lames  !  Light  up  a  blaze  of  straw  ! 
 Be  her  doom  with  the  husbands  who  left  their  wives  ;  be  her  doom  with 
 the  wives  who  forsook  their  lords ;  be  her  doom  with  the  youths  of  dis- 
 honoured lives.  Go,  porter,  and  open  the  gate  for  her  ;  but  strip  her,  as 
 some  have  been  stripped  ere  now.'  The  porter  went  and  opened  the 
 gate.  '  Lady  of  Tiggaba  enter,'  he  said ;  '  enter,  it  is  permitted.  The 
 Queen  of  Hades  to  meet  thee  comes.'      So  the  first  gate  let  her  in ;  but 
 
40  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 she  was  stopped,   and  there  the  great  crown  was   taken  from  her  head. 
 '  Keeper,  do  not  remove  from  me  the  crown  that  is  on  my  head.'    '  Excuse 
 it,  lady,  the  queen  of  the  land  insists  upon  its  removal.'     The  next  gate  let 
 her  in,  but  she  was  stopped,  and   there  the  earrings  were  taken  from  her 
 ears.       '  Keeper,  do  not  take  off  from  me   the  earrings  from   my  ears.' 
 '  E^xcuse  it,  lady,  the  queen  of  the  land  insists  upon  their  removal.'     The 
 third  gate  let  her  in,  but  she  was  stopped,  and  there  the  precious  stones 
 were  taken  from  her  head.       •  Keeper,  do  not  take  off  from  me  the  gems 
 that  adorn  my  head.'    'Excuse  it,  lady,  the  queen  of  the  land  insists  on  their 
 removal.'      The  fourth  gate  let  her  in,  but  she  was  stopped,  and  there  the 
 small  jewels  were  taken  from  her  brow.     '  Keeper,  do  not  take  off  from  me 
 the  small  jewels  that  deck  my  brow.'     '  Excuse  it,  lady,  the  queen  of  the 
 land  insists  upon  their  removal.'      The  fifth  gate  let  her  in,  but  she  was 
 stopped,  and  there  the  girdle  was  taken  from  her  waist.     '  Keeper,  do  not 
 take  off  from  me  the  girdle  that  girds  my  waist.'     *  Excuse  it,  lady,  the 
 queen  of  the  land  insists  upon  its  removal.'     The  sixth  gate  let  her  in,  but 
 she  was  stopped,  and  there  the  gold  rings  were  taken  from  her  hands  and 
 feet.       '  Keeper,  do  not  take  off  from  me  the  gold  rings  of  my  hands  and 
 feet.'     '  Excuse  it,  lady,  the  queen  of  the  land  insists  upon  their  removal.' 
 The  seventh  gate  let  her  in,  but  she  was  stopped,  and  there  the  last  gar- 
 ment was  taken  from  her  body.     '  Keeper,  do  not  take  off,  I  pray,  the  last 
 garment  from  my  body.'     '  Excuse  it,  lady,  the  queen  of  the  land  insists  on 
 its  removal.' 
 
 "  After  Mother  Ishtar  had  descended  into  Hades,  Ninkigal  saw  her  and 
 derided  her  to  her  face.  Then  Ishtar  lost  her  reason,  and  heaped  curses 
 upon  the  other.  Ninkigal  upon  this  opened  her  mouth  and  spake  :  *Go, 
 Namtar,  and  bring  her  out  for  punishment.  Afflict  her  with  disease  of  the 
 eye,  the  side,  the  feet,  the  heart,  the  head.' 
 
 "  The  divine  messenger  of  the  gods  lacerated  his  face  before  them.  The 
 assembly  of  the  gods  was  full.  The  Sun  came,  and  with  him  the  Moon 
 his  father,  and  thus  spake  he  weeping  unto  Hea,  the  king.  '  Ishtar  has 
 descended  into  the  earth,  and  has  not  risen  again ;  and  ever  since  the 
 time  that  Mother  Ishtar  descended  into  hell  the  master  has  ceased  from 
 commanding,  the  slave  has  ceased  from  obeying.'  Then  the  god  Hea  in 
 the  depth  of  his  mind  formed  a  design  ;  he  modelled  for  her  escape  the 
 figure  of  a  man  in  clay.  '  Go  and  save  her,  Pliantom,'  he  said,  '  Present 
 thyself  at  the  portal  of  Hades;  the  seven  gates  of  Hades  will  all  open 
 before  thee,  Ninkigal  will  see  thee  and  take  pleasure  because  of  thee. 
 When  her  mind  has  grown  calm,  and  her  anger  has  worn  itself  away,  awe 
 her  with  the  names  of  the  great  gods.  Then  prepare  thy  frauds.  On 
 deceitful  tricks  fix  thy  mind.  Use  the  very  chiefest  of  thy  deceits.  Bring 
 forth  fish  out  of  an  empty  vessel.  That  will  astonish  Ninkigal,  and  to 
 Ishtar  she  will  restore  her  dress.  Thy  reward — a  great  reward — for  these 
 things  shall  not  fail.  Go,  Phantom,  save  her,  and  the  assembly  of  the 
 people  shall  crown  thee!     Meats,  the  best  in  the  city,  shall  be  thy  food  ! 
 
THE   RELIGION   OE   THE  ASSYRIANS.  41 
 
 Wines,  the  most  delicious  in  the  city,  shall  be  thy  drink.  A  royal  palace 
 shall  be  thy  dwelling — a  throne  of  state  thy  seat.  Magician  and  conjuror 
 shall  kiss  the  hem  of  thy  garment.' 
 
 "  Ninkigal  opened  her  mouth  and  spake  ;  to  her  messenger  Namtar, 
 command  she  gave:  'Go,  Namtar,  the  temple  of  justice  adorn!  Deck 
 the  images  !  Deck  the  altars  !  Bring  out  Anunnak,  and  let  him  take  his 
 seat  on  a  throne  of  gold  !  Pour  out  for  Ishtar  the  water  of  life  ;  from  my 
 realms  let  her  depart.'  Namar  obeyed  ;  he  adorned  the  temple,  decked 
 the  images,  decked  the  altars  ;  brought  out  Anunnak  and  set  him  on  a 
 throne  of  gold ;  poured  out  for  Ishtar  the  water  of  life,  and  suffered  her  to 
 depart.  Then  the  first  gate  let  her  out,  and  gave  her  back  the  garment  of 
 her  form.  The  second  gate  let  her  out,  and  gave  her  back  the  jewels  for 
 her  hands  and  feet.  The  third  gate  let  her  out,  and  gave  her  back  the 
 girdle  for  her  waist.  The  fourth  gate  let  her  out,  and  gave  her  back  the 
 small  gems  she  had  worn  upon  her  brow.  The  fifth  gate  let  her  out,  and 
 gave  her  back  the  precious  stones  that  had  been  upon  her  head.  The 
 sixth  gate  let  her  out,  and  gave  her  back  the  earrings  that  were  taken  from 
 her  ears.  And  the  seventh  gate  let  her  out,  and  gave  her  back  the  crown 
 she  had  carried  on  her  head." 
 
 So  ends  this  curious  legend.  There  are  many  others,  especially  an 
 account  of  the  Deluge,  which  is  of  great  interest.  But  the  inexorable 
 march  of  time  warns  me  that  I  must  not  trespass  longer  upon  your 
 patience,  but  must  thank  you  for  your  kind  attention,  and  make  my  bow. 
 
ANCIENT  JUDAISM. 
 
 By  THE  Rev.  A.  W.  Oxford. 
 
 I.     SOURCES   FOR   THE   HISTORY. 
 
 Our  chief  authorities  for  the  history  of  Israel  are  the  books  of  the  Old 
 Testament.  Unfortunately  none  of  the  historical  books  have  reached  us 
 in  their  original  form  ;  they  have  been  worked  up  by  later  historians  whose 
 aim  was  not  to  accurately  reproduce  the  past  so  much  as  to  paint  such  a 
 picture  of  it  as  would  best  convey  religious  instruction  to  the  men  of  their 
 own  generation.  To  gain  this  end  they  did  not  scruple  to  make  any  altera- 
 tions, additions,  and  omissions  which  served  to  bring  the  books  more  into 
 accordance  with  their  own  ideas.  In  order,  then,  to  recover  the  original 
 documents  which  lie  at  the  bottom  of  the  historical  books  of  the  Old 
 Testament,  we  have  to  omit  the  later  additions,  supply  the  omissions, 
 restore  the  corrections.  Although  this  may  seem  at  first  sight  almost 
 impossible,  it  is  made  comparatively  easy  by  three  circumstances.  Firstly, 
 the  old  historians  had  no  motive  for  concealing  the  process  by  which  they 
 worked,  and  therefore  made  no  attempt  to  alter  the  style  and  phraseology 
 of  the  documents  which  lay  before  them.^  Secondly,  they  were  rarely 
 skilful  workmen,  they  often  failed  to  make  the  necessary  alterations  in  the 
 old  histories  which  they  incorporated  with  their  own.-  Thirdly,  we  have 
 in  the  writings  of  the  prophets  a  fixed  point  by  means  of  which  we  can 
 establish  the  dates  of  the  various  revisions  which  the  books  have  under- 
 gone. We  may,  besides,  gain  considerable  assistance  from  the  translation 
 of  the  LXX.,  especially  where  the  Hebrew  text  is  corrupt. 
 
 I.     The     Hexateuch. 
 
 We  can  only  in   the   briefest   manner  indicate   the  chief  results  of  the 
 modern  criticism  of  the  Hexateuch  ;  the  arguments  for  and  against  them 
 may  be  found  fully  discussed  in   Kuenen's  "  Hexateuch,"  Wellhausen's 
 "  Prolegomena,"  pp.  295-362,  and  his  "  Skizzen  und  Vorarbeiten,"  Part  II. 
 (a)  The  oldest  portion  of  the  Hexateuch  is  called  the  Jehovistic  his- 
 tory book,  and  is  denoted  by  the  symbol  JE.    It  consists  of  two  parts  : 
 the  author  of  the  first  part  is  called  the  Jehovist  (J)  from  his  using 
 the  word  Jehovah  for  God  ;  the  author  of  the  second  the  Elohist  (E) 
 from  his  using  the  word  Elohim.     J  was  composed  about  the  year 
 800  B.C. ; '*  its  author  is  claimed  as  a  native  of  Judaea  by  Stade  and 
 
 '  Even  if  they  had  wished  to  do  this,  the  simplicity  of  the  Hebrew  language  would 
 have  prevented  them. 
 
 *  Sometimes  they  left  difTerent  narratives  of  the  same  event  standing  side  by  side. 
 
 *  Kuenen,  Hexateuch  249,  note  (23). 
 
 4» 
 
ANCIENT  JUDAISM.  43 
 
 Wellliausen,  as  a  northerner  by  Kuenen.  The  Elohist  was  certainly 
 an  ICphraimite  ;  he  wrote  about  the  year  750  b.c.^  Kuenen  argues  2 
 that  Judcean  editions  were  subsequently  published  both  of  J  and  E. 
 The  two  books  were  united  at  the  close  of  the  seventh  or  the  beirin- 
 ning  of  the  sixth  century. 
 
 {b)  The  next  portion  of  the  Hexateuch  is  the  Deuteronomic  (D). 
 It  originally  consisted  merely  of  Deut.  v.  to  xxvi.''  and  was  published 
 in  the  eighteenth  year  of  king  Josiah  (b.c.  621).  At  a  subsequent 
 period — not  earlier  than  B.C.  597 — the  addition  was  made  of  i.  i  to 
 iv.  30,  together  with  xxxi.  1-8,  and  perhaps  chapters  xxix.  and  xxx. 
 Later  again  the  Deuteronomic  torah  was  united  with  JE;  about  this 
 time  were  added  the  sections  xxvii.  1-8 ;  xxxi.  24-30  ;  xxxii.  44-47  ; 
 xxxiv.  4,  6,  7^,  II,  12. 
 
 {c)  There  remains  what  is  called   the  priestly  portion  (P).     This 
 consists  mainly  of  a  priestly  torah  (Pj)  and  a  later  historico-legislative 
 work  (Pg).     The  latter  was  brought  to  Judnea  by  Ezra  and  Nehemiah 
 in  the  year  444  b.c.  and  had  been  composed  not  long  before.     It  is 
 uncertain  whether  it  was  amalgamated  with  P^  in  Babylonia  or  at  a 
 later  date  in  Judcea.     Later  again   supplements  were  made  to   P1P2 
 (P3,  etc.)  and  finally  P  and  JED  were  united  by  redactors  (R)  before 
 the  end  of  the  fifth  century,  although  slight  alterations  continued  to 
 be  made  until  some  time  in  the  third  century. 
 It  was  mainly  in  connection  with   D  that  tlie  historical  books  of  the 
 Old  Testament  were  revised.     The  redaction  is  marked  by  the  introduc- 
 tion   of  anonymous   prophets,  the   change   from   "  angel  of  Jehovah "  to 
 "Jehovah,"  and  the  ideas  that  sin  must  have  preceded  misfortune,  that 
 Israel  always  acted  as  a  whole,  and   that  the  influence  of  a  great  saint 
 must  have  made  Israel  faithful  to  Jehovah.     Occasionally  the  influence  of 
 P  has  been  at  work  :  it  can  generally  be  discovered  by  the  distinction 
 between  priest  and  Levite,  the  mention  of  the  tabernacle,  the  use  of  the 
 terms  "  high  "  priest  and  "  congregation,"   and  by   the  designation  of  the 
 months  by  numbers. 
 
 2.     The  Book  of  Judges. 
 
 The  Book  of  Judges  consists  of  an  introduction,  i.  i  to  ii.  5,  the  main 
 body  of  the  work,  ii.  6  to  xvi.  31,  and  two  appendices,  chapters  xvii.  and 
 xviii.  and  chapters  xix.,  xx.,  and  xxi. 
 
 The  introduction  has  been  connected  with  the  Book  of  Joshua  by  the 
 words  "after  the  death  of  Joshua."  It  is  not,  however,  a  continuation  of 
 that  book,  but  a  parallel  to  it,  since  the  west-Jordan  land  is  not  yet  con- 
 quered and  some  events  are  common  to  both  histories.^     The  contents  of 
 
 '  Hexateuch,  250,  note  (24).     But  compare  Renan,  ii.  379.         ^  Hexateuch,  248. 
 
 ^  The  introduction,  v.-xi.,  is  ascribed  by  Wellhausen  to  another  author  than  that  of 
 xii.-xxvi. 
 
 *  Compare  Judges  i.  10-15,  with  Josh.  xv.  13-19  ;  i.  21,  with  xv.  63  ;  i.  27,  28,  with 
 xvii.  12,  13  ;  i.  29,  with  xvi.  10. 
 
4+  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  introduction  are  most  important,  though  they  are  in  part  unhistoricaV 
 sometimes  even  contradictory." 
 
 "I'he  main  body  of  the  work  is  complete  in  itself  and  follows  Joshua, 
 xxiv.  28,  as  suitably  as  its  own  introduction,  i.  i  to  ii.  5.  Various  additions 
 have  been  made  to  the  original  history,  as  for  example,  in  chapters  iv., 
 vi.  I  to  viii.  3,'^  the  differences  in  the  religious  attitude  of  these  show  that 
 they  are  due  to  a  process  of  glorification.  Afterwards  the  book  was  revised 
 under  the  influence  of  Deuteronomy.  For  this  purpose  a  prologue  (ii.  6 
 to  iii.  6)  was  added  and  the  whole  history  altered  in  accordance  with  it ;  in 
 monotonous  repetition,  rebellion  is  followed  by  affliction,  affliction  by  con- 
 version, conversion  by  peace.  At  the  same  time  the  book  was  forced  into 
 a  chronological  scheme,  the  key  to  which  is  found  in  i  Kings  vi.  1.  The 
 480  years  are  twelve  generations  of  forty  years  each.  The  wandering  in 
 the  wilderness,  the  generation  of  Joshua  and  his  surviving  contemporaries 
 (Judges  ii.  7),  the  periods  of  rest  under  OthnicI,  Deborah,  and  Jerubbaal, 
 account  for  5  x  40,  the  rest  under  Ehud  for  2  x  40,  the  dominion  of  the 
 Philistines,^  the  reigns  of  Saul  and  David  for  3  x  40.  The  remaining 
 eighty  consist  either  of  the  seventy-one  years  of  foreign  rule  (excluding 
 the  Philistine  dominion)  or  of  tlie  seventy  years  of  the  minor  judges,^ 
 with  a  balance  of  nine  or  ten  years,  which  must  be  distributed  between 
 Jephthah  (six  years),  and  either  Solomon  (until  the  temple  was  built)  or 
 Abimelech. 
 
 We  may  notice  striking  differences  between  the  original  history  and  its 
 Deuteronomic  redaction. 
 
 (i)  The  latter  of  course  is  Judaic,  whilst  the  former  is  so  far  from 
 
 being  so  that  in  the  song  of  Deborah   Judah  is  not  even  mentioned. 
 
 To  rectify  this  error  the  redactor  has  opened  the  series  of  judges  with 
 
 Othniel,  who  was  not  a  person  but  a  clan.'' 
 
 (2)  The  historical  continuity  which  is  given  by  the  chronological 
 scheme,  cannot  be  traced  in  the  original  narratives. 
 
 (3)  The  histories  are  those  of  tribal  heroes,  not  of  a  united  Israel ; 
 the  tribes  only  combine  against  a  common  foe,  such  as  Siscra,  receiv- 
 ing thereby  extraordinary  praise  from  Deborah.  The  judges  did  not 
 rule  over  the  whole  of  Israel,  every  man  did  what  was  right  in  his 
 own  eyes. 
 
 '  I.  8,  18. 
 
 *  e.g.  Compare  i.  II  willi  verses  12-15,  verses  19-21  seem  to  he  an  addition,  for  19  is 
 a  correction  of  18,  20  of  10,  21  of  8  ;  verse  ii.  I  is  a  parallel  of  Josh,  xviii.  I  (i.  22  ; 
 Gen.  XXXV.  8).      It  is  clear  that  ii.  xh-'^a  is  a  Deuteronomic  addition. 
 
 ••  D(.>ul)tless  also  the  stories  <jf  Jepiitliah  and  .Samson  were  originally  profane,  and 
 received  their  religious  colouring  at  a  later  dale. 
 
 ■*  Coinciding  with  Kli's  f(jrty  years,  and  covering  also  Samson's  twenty  and  the  twenty 
 of  I  .Sam.  vii.  2. 
 
 ''  Almost  certainly  the  former,  see  note  (3)  on  page  45. 
 
 •"'  I  Chr.  xxvii.  15.  The  name  was  suggested  by  i.  13.  Cushan-rishathaim  is  king  01 
 too  remote  a  people  to  he  Israel's  enemy  at  that  time,  and  his  name  "negro  of  double 
 wickedness,"  shows  that  he  is  not  an  historical  figure,  hut  a  bogie  of  popular  legend. 
 
ANCIENT  JUDAISM.  45 
 
 (4)  The  Deuteronomic  contrast  between  absolute  oppression  and 
 absolute  peace  is  false  ;  while  some  tribes  dwelt  in  peace,  others 
 were  struggling  against  enemies. 
 
 (5)  Israel  was  not  guilty  of  any  religious  declension  as  vi.  13 
 incidentally  discloses.  The  Baalim  were  the  gods  worshipped  in 
 different  sanctuaries  of  the  land,  each  of  whom  was  supposed  to 
 be  Jehovah,^  the  Ashtaroth  were  almost  certainly  the  Aschera  or 
 sacred  poles,  which  are  frequently  mentioned  as  standing  by  the  altar 
 of  Jehovah. - 
 
 Twelve  judges  are  named  in  the  book,  though  little  is  told  of  seven  of 
 them  :  these  minor  judges  were  probably  added  to  complete  the  number 
 twelve.^ 
 
 Of  Othniel  we  have  already  spoken.  Ehud  was  perhaps  a  Benjaminite 
 family,^  his  story  does  not  bear  any  distinct  trace  of  its  being  a  real  his- 
 tory. Shamgar  was  probably  an  historical  personage  borrowed  from  v.  6 
 by  the  redactor  who  also  invented  the  statement  of  iii.  31.  Tola  was  a 
 clan  of  Issachar,^  Jair  of  Gilead,*'  Elon  was  a  name  of  a  town  in  Zebulon,' 
 Ibzan  and  Abdon  also  were  doubtless  clans. 
 
 The  story  of  Jephthah  is  an  attem[)t  to  give  an  historical  setting  to  the 
 feast  which  was  celebrated  at  Gilcad.  From  xi.  i  we  must  conclude  that 
 Jephthah  was  one  of  the  minor  clans  of  Gilead.  Cap.  x.  6-16  is  of 
 course  Deuteronomic;  verses  17,  18  are  an  attempt  to  attach  the  section 
 to  chapter  xi.  Cap.  xi.  12-29  is  a  late  addition,  borrowed  from  Numbers 
 XX.  and  xxi.**  since  xi.  nb  is  connected  with  xi.  30  and  verses  28  and  29 
 anticipate  32.  Cap.  xii.  1-7  is  likewise  a  late  addition^  copied  from  the 
 story  of  Gideon  by  a  Judaic  writer,  who  did  not  admire  his  yielding  tem- 
 per towards  the  proud  northern  tribe. 
 
 Samson  is  no  real  Judge,  since  he  acts  only  for  himself  and  does  not 
 rule  his  tribe.'*^  He  is  partly  a  mythological  figure,^^  partly  a  legendary 
 hero.     His  history  bears  many  striking  resemblances  to  those  of  Jerubbaal 
 
 '  Just  as  the  Virgin  Mary  is  worshipped  now  in  Roman  Catholic  countries. 
 
 *  See  page  56  and  Kenan  i.  230. 
 
 '  Stade  thinks  that  Ahimelech  was  originally  one  of  the  twelve,  and  that  Shamgar 
 was  afterwards  inserted  by  a  later  redactor,  who  refused  to  regard  Ahimelech  as  a  judge. 
 This  view  is  supported  by  the  connection  of  iv.  I  with  iii.  30,  instead  of  with  iii.  31. 
 He  thinks,  also,  that  there  were  two  Deuteronomic  redactions,  since  the  minor  judges 
 are  introduced  in  a  different  way  from  the  others,  and  the  chronological  scheme  does  not 
 take  in  the  number  of  years  during  which  they  ruled. 
 
 *  I  Chr.  vii.   10  ;  viii.  6. 
 
 *  Numb.   xxvi.  23. 
 
 «  Numb,  xxxii.  41.     The  word  for  ass  and  city  is  in  Hebrew  the  same, 
 
 1  Gen.  xlvi.  14. 
 
 '  As  we  see  from  the  introduction  of  Moab  and  Chemosh  (xi.  24). 
 
 '  For  Jephthah  has  already  been  home  for  two  months  (xi.  39).  The  Shibboleth 
 story  and  the  number  of  Ephrahiiites  slain  by  lephthah  are  incredible. 
 
 '"  Gen.  xlix.  16  can  only  mean  that  Dan  will  keep  its  political  independence  and  not 
 meet  with  the  fiite  of  Reuben,  Simeon,  and  Levi. 
 
 •1  His  name  means  "  sun-man  ;  "  his  long  hair  symbolizes  the  rays  of  the  sun.  Other 
 traits  of  the  sun-god  are  more  or  less  clear.     See  Goldziher. 
 
46  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 and   Saul.^     Perhaps  he  was  a  Benjamite  clan  dwelling  on  the  borders  of 
 Palestine  and  Philistia. 
 
 We  have  still  to  notice  the  two  appendices.  The  first  of  these  is  one 
 of  the  most  valuable  of  the  Old  Testament  as  giving  a  correct  view  of  the 
 religion  of  Israel  before  the  time  of  the  kings.  We  probably  owe  its 
 preservation  to  the  fact  that  it  would  serve  to  throw  contempt  on  the 
 sanctuary  of  Dan.  It  has  been  redacted,  but  not  by  a  Deuteronomist.^ 
 The  second  is  a  much  later  document  ^  having  points  of  contact  both 
 with  D  and  P  and  standing  therefore  between  them.  In  it  Israel  acts  not 
 only  as  a  whole  but  as  the  congregation  of  the  covenant.  The  absurdities 
 of  the  narrative  and  its  contrasts  with  the  rest  of  the  book  are  obvious. 
 It  has  been  constructed  in  parts  from  older  portions  of  the  Old  Testament* 
 and  has  as  its  foundation  the  hate  which  was  felt  by  Judah  towards  the 
 pre-davidic  rule  of  Benjamin. 
 
 3.     The  Books  of  Samuel. 
 
 The  Books  of  Samuel  form  only  one  book  in  the  Hebrew  MSB.  Their 
 contents  fall  into  three  parts :  ^  i  Sam.  i.  i  to  xiv.  51  ;  i  Sam.  xiv.  52  to 
 2  Sam.  viii.  18  ;  2  Sam.  ix.  i  to  xx.  26  ;  at  the  end  is  an  appendix,  2  Sam. 
 xxi.  to  xxiv. 
 
 The  third  part,  2  Sam.  ix.  i  to  xx.  26,  to  which  formerly  i  Kings  i.  and 
 ii.  belonged,  is  the  most  faithful  history,  and  has  been  but  slightly 
 redacted.  The  second  part,  i  Sam.  xiv.  52  to  2  Sam.  viii.  18,  is  hardly 
 less  valuable,  though  its  original  form  has  suffered  many  interruptions 
 and  alterations.  In  the  earlier  chapters  of  the  book,  i  Sam.  i.  i  to  xiv, 
 51,  which  narrate  the  transition  to  the  monarchy,  the  Deuteronomic 
 redaction  has  been  more  thorough.  We  find  in  them  the  old  strain  ^ — 
 rebellion,  affliction,  conversion,  peace — and  also  traces  of  a  chronological 
 scheme.'^ 
 
 '  Compare  xiii.  9-23  with  vi.  II-24,  esp.  xiii.  19  with  vi.  21.  Compare  also  xiii.  5 
 with  I  Sam.  ix.  16.     The  life,  work,  and  end  of  Samson  and  Saul  are  similar. 
 
 *  Since  xvii.  5  follows  xvii.  i,  the  intermediate  verses  must  be  a  later  addition.  The 
 text  of  xviii.  14-18  was  probably  altered  when  these  verses  were  added.  Verses  18-30 
 is  also  an  interpolation,  since  the  original  narrative  is  certainly  earlier  than  the  fall  of 
 Samaria. 
 
 *  As  the  Hebrew  shows.  See  Bleek-Wellhausen  201.  These  chapters  are  fully 
 treated  in  Stade's  Zeitschrift  for  18S5,  p.  30. 
 
 *  Gen.  xix.  ;  Josh.  8.  Compare  also  xix.  27  with  I  Sam.  iii.  15  ;  xix.  29  with  I  Sam. 
 xi.  7  ;  XX.  13  with  i  Sam.  xi.  12  ;  xx.  16  with  iii.  15  ;  xx.  26  with  ii.  4,  5  ;  xx.  45  with 
 viii.  2  ;  XX.  47  with  2  Sam.  ii.  25  ;  xxi.  15  with  2  Sam.  vi.  8.  The  comparison  of  xxi.  8 
 with  I  Sam.  xi.  is  curious. 
 
 *  The  first  part  divides  again  into  sections.  It  is  plain  that  I  Sam  xv.  is  related 
 both  to  the  first  and  second  parts  ;  the  connecting  verse,  I  Sam.  xiv.  52,  is  older  than 
 the  Deuteronomic  redaction. 
 
 *  Sam.  vii.  2-4  ;  xii.   I-5. 
 
 7  I  Sam.  iv.  18  ;  vii.  2  ;  xiii.  i.  Note  also  xxvii.  7  ;  2  Sam.  ii.  10,  11  ;  v.  4,  5  ; 
 I  Kings  ii.  11.  In  I  Sam.  xiii.  i,  and  2  .Sam.  ii.  10,  the  numbers  h.ive  not  been  filled 
 in.  The  omission  of  i  Sam.  xiii.  i  in  the  LKX.  shows  ihc  late  date  of  the  chronological 
 redaction. 
 
ANCIENT  JUDAISM.  47 
 
 On  the  whole,  the  Books  of  Samuel  have  suffered  far  less  from  revision 
 than  the  Book  of  Judges.  The  time  covered  by  them  being  short,  and 
 the  narrative  being  rich  in  incident  and  forming  a  connected  whole,  it  was 
 not  so  easy  to  force  them  into  an  artificial  framework. 
 
 4.     The  Books  of  the  Kings. 
 
 The  Books  of  the  Kings,  like  the  Books  of  Samuel,  form  only  one  book 
 in  the  Hebrew  MSS.  They  fall  into  two  parts,  the  first  containing  the 
 history  of  Solomon  (i  Kings  i.-xi.),  the  second  containing  the  history  of 
 the  other  kings  of  Israel  and  Judah  (i  Kings  xii.  to  2  Kings  xxv.).  From 
 the  second  part  we  may  separate  2  Kings  xxiii.  30  to  xxv.  30,  which  has 
 been  added  at  the  earliest  during  the  exile  at  the  time  when  1  Kings  xii. 
 to  2  Kings  xxiii.  29  was  subjected  to  revision. 
 
 It  is  easy  to  see  that  the  redaction  of  i  Kings  i.  to  xi.  much  resembles  the 
 redaction  of  the  Books  of  Samuel.  The  redaction  of  the  second  part,  how- 
 ever, is  more  like  that  of  the  Book  of  Judges,  for  we  find  a  framework  con- 
 sisting of  chronological  and  religious  elements  into  which  the  history  is 
 forced.  At  the  same  time  there  is  a  great  difference  between  the  two. 
 In  the  Book  of  Judges  the  framework  was  imposed  on  material  which 
 already  existed ;  in  the  case  of  the  Books  of  the  Kings  the  Deuteronomic 
 redactor  is  also  the  real  author.  Having  prepared  his  framework  he  made, 
 from  the  sources  before  him,  selections  which  now  only  exist  as  part  of  his 
 work. 
 
 In  the  treatment  of  his  subject  the  author  has  adopted  the  unhistorical 
 plan  of  scparatmg  the  histories  of  the  kings  of  Israel  and  Judah.  Only 
 in  the  case  of  Joram  of  Israel  and  Ahaziah  of  Judah  has  he  made  any 
 attempt  to  treat  the  fortunes  of  the  two  kingdoms  in  one  narrative. 
 Moreover,  he  includes  the  history  of  each  king  in  a  separate  section, 
 which  begins  and  ends  in  a  fixed  way.^  With  the  kings  of  Judah  the 
 opening  sentence  is  :  "  A,  the  son  of  B,  began  to  reign  over  Judah  in  the 
 n"'  year  of  C,  king  of  Israel.  A  was  x  years  old  when  he  began  to  reign  j 
 and  he  reigned  y  years  in  Jerusalem,  and  his  mother's  name  was  D,  the 
 daughter  of  E."  The  conclusion  runs,  "  Now  the  rest  of  the  acts  of  A 
 and  all  that  he  did,  are  they  not  written  in  the  book  of  the  chronicles  of 
 the  kings  of  Judah?  And  A  slept  with  his  fathers  and  was  buried  with 
 his  fathers  in  th5  city  of  David  ;  and  F  his  son  reigned  in  his  stead."  In 
 the  case  of  the  kings  of  Israel,  the  age  and  mother's  name  are  omitted, 
 and  of  course  Israel  and  Samaria  take  the  place  of  Judah,  Jerusalem,  and 
 the  city  of  David. 
 
 Within  these  opening  and  closing  formulae  we  have  short   histories   ot 
 
 1  Much  confusion  is  caused  by  this  method.  The  acts  of  one  and  the  same  man  are 
 found  in  difTcieiit  sections,  if  some  were  performed  before  his  accession  to  the  throne 
 and  others  after  it.  Matters  which  concern  both  Israel  and  Judah  are  mentioned  twice 
 (2  Kings  xvii.  1-6  ;  xviii.  9-12).     Other  instances  of  confusion  are  given  in  Stade  76,  77. 
 
48  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  different  reigns.  These  are  not  only  most  meagre,  but  also  inaccurate. 
 The  author  believes  tliat  the  Deuteronomic  law  was,  from  the  time  of 
 Moses,  the  law  of  Israel.  Everything,  therefore,  in  the  old  history  which 
 is  contrary  to  this  law  is,  in  his  eyes,  a  sin  ;  kings  who  do  not  act  in 
 accordance  with  it  are  wicked  kings.  All  the  kings  of  Israel,  being  unable 
 to  worship  at  Jerusalem,  are  thus  denounced  as  wicked.^  Correlatively 
 the  kings  of  Judah,  though  reproached  for  not  putting  away  the  high 
 i:)laces,  are  not  so  emphatically  condemned. 
 
 The  interest  of  the  author,  as  we  should  naturally  imagine  from  his 
 Deuteronomic  standpoint,  centres  round  the  temple.  What  few  detailed 
 narratives  are  given  generally  have  the  temple  as  their  scene  of  action.'^ 
 Other  matters  concern  him  but  little.  Even  of  such  kings  as  Jeroboam 
 I.,  Omri,  Jeroboam  II.,  he  finds  little  worthy  of  mention  ;  he  is  content 
 to  refer  his  readers  to  the  book  of  the  chronicles  of  the  kings  of  Israel, 
 which  unfortunately  has  not  been  preserved. 
 
 This  second  section  of  the  books  of  the  kings  has  been  redacted  and 
 furnished  with  a  conclusion  by  a  later  writer,  whose  standpoint  is  almost 
 l)recisely  that  of  his  predecessor.  In  one  important  respect,  however,  he 
 differs  from  him.  From  the  story  of  Josiah's  reign  we  must  conclude  that 
 its  author  hoped  that  the  king's  reformation  would  serve  to  turn  away 
 from  Judah  the  divine  wrath  and  so  save  it  from  its  threatened  destruction. 
 The  redactor  knew  that  the  hope  proved  vain,  and  he  attributed  this, 
 as  did  Jeremiah,^  to  the  fact  that  Manasseh's  sin  was  too  great  to  be  for- 
 gotten. In  order  to  bring  the  whole  of  the  book  into  harmony  with  this 
 conviction,  he  added  such  passages  as  2  Kings  xvii.  19,  20 ;  xxi.  10-15; 
 xxiii.  26,  27;  probably  also  i  Kings  viii.  in  greater  part;  xiii. ;  2  Kings 
 xxii.  15-20. 
 
 It  may  be  either  the  same  or  a  later  redactor  who  has  added  the  chro- 
 nological part  of  the  framework.  The  attempt  to  synchronize  the  indi- 
 vidual reigns  of  course  dates  from  the  exile  or  later,  since  Israel  would 
 not  stoop  to  reckon  the  years  of  its  kings  by  those  of  the  kings  of  such 
 an  insignificant  State  as  Judah,  nor  would  Judah,  on  its  side,  pay  any 
 attention  in  its  chronology  to  a  kingdom  which  it  regarded  as  having 
 revolted  from  the  Davidic  rule.  The  synchronism  is  incorrect,  as  we  see 
 at  once  by  a  comparison  of  the  two  series  of  dates.^ 
 
 The  history  of  Israel,  up  to  the  end  of  the  Captivity,  falls  into  two 
 periods,  each  of  480  years.  The  first  period  begins  with  the  Exodus  and 
 ends  with  the  building  of  Solomon's  temple,  the  second  proceeds  from 
 this  to  the  end  of  the  exile.  Eras  are  rarely  fixed  by  contemporaries, 
 who,  as  a  ruh;,  fail  to  see  the  importance  of  events  happening  in  their  own 
 
 '  This  condemnation  becomes  ludicrous  in  Ihe  case  of  Zimri,  who  only  reigned  a  week. 
 I  Kings  xvi.  15. 
 
 ^  Kini^s  xi.  seq.  ;  xvi  ;  xxii.  seq.  Only  in  xviii.  seq.  does  the  prophetical  interest 
 predominate.  Even  in  such  passages  as  2  Kings  xii.  18;  xiv.  14,  the  interest  in  the 
 temple  creeps  in. 
 
 ^  Jer.  XV.  4.  *  Details  are  given  in  Stade,  93-95. 
 
ANCIENT  JUDAISM. 
 
 49 
 
 days.  It  is  absolutely  certain  that  the  erection  of  Solomon's  temple, 
 which  was,  at  first,  no  more  than  a  royal  chapel,  could  never  have 
 been  regarded  as  an  era  until  the  promulgation  of  the  Deuteronomic 
 law.  At  the  very  outset  then  we  are  led  to  doubt  the  accuracy  of  the 
 dates. 
 
 This  doubt  becomes  a  certainty  when  we  find  that,  as  in  the  first  period, 
 the  number  forty  is  the  basis  of  calculation.  Omitting  the  kings  who 
 reigned  less  than  a  year,*  we -have  the  following  list  : 
 
 Rehoboam 
 Abijam 
 
 17 
 3 
 
 > 
 
 20 
 
 Asa  . 
 
 4t 
 
 40  +  1 
 
 Jclu)slia|)hat 
 Jorain 
 
 25 
 8 
 
 1 
 
 40 
 
 Ahaziah     . 
 
 I 
 
 ) 
 
 Athaliah    . 
 
 6 
 
 Joash 
 
 •     40 
 
 40 
 
 Amnziah    . 
 U/./.iah       . 
 
 29 
 
 52 
 
 2  X  40  +  I 
 
 Jotham 
 
 16 
 
 > 
 
 Aha/, 
 
 .      16 
 
 40—2 
 
 Hczekiah  - 
 
 .       6 
 
 Hezekiah  . 
 
 ^}, 
 
 ) 
 
 Manasseh  . 
 
 55 
 
 ) 
 
 2  X  40 
 
 Amon 
 
 2 
 
 Josiah 
 
 3' 
 
 1 
 
 Jehoiakim 
 
 1 1 
 
 53^ 
 
 Zedekiah  . 
 
 1 1 
 
 Duration  of  e.\ile    . 
 
 393 
 
 •     50 
 
 Solomon  after  the  ten 
 
 iple 
 
 ■ 
 
 •     37 
 
 480 
 
 The  series  of  the  kings  of  Israel  depends  on  that  of  the  kings  of  Judah. 
 According  to  the  latter,  the  kingdom  of  Israel  lasted  242  years.  From  the 
 division  of  the  kingdom  to  the  revolution  of  Jehu,  we  have,  according  to 
 the  northern  series,  ninety-eight  years,  according  to  the  southern,  ninety- 
 six.  If  we  correct  the  length  of  Baasha's  reign  from  twenty-four  to 
 twenty-two  years,  the  two  series   each  consist  of  ninety-six  years,  and  we 
 
 the 
 
 '  Tlip  Israelites,  like  other  Eastern  nations,  reckoned  as  the  first  year  of  a  king 
 year  following  that  of  his  ascending  the  throne.     For  proof  of  this  see  Stade,  98,  9'^ 
 
 *  Up  to  H.C.  722,  the  destruction  of  Samaria. 
 
 '  It  is  curious  that  we  get  again  2x40  by  adding  to  tliis  the  last  date  in  the  books  ofi 
 the  Kings  (2  Kings  xxv.  27). 
 
 VOL,    I.  E 
 
50  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 get  as  the  duration  of  Israel  240,  i.e.  the  half  of  480.     We  have  then  the 
 
 following  list : — 
 
 Jeroboam     .         .         .         .         .         .22 
 
 Nadab 2 
 
 Baasha         .         .         .         .         .         .22 
 
 Elah 2 
 
 Omri  .         .         .         .         .         .         .12 
 
 Ahab  .         .         .         .         .         .         .22 
 
 Ahaziah       ......         2 
 
 Jdiorani       .         .         .         .  .         .12 
 
 Thus   two  kings   have   the  average  twelve  ;  the  others  consist  of  three 
 
 pairs  of  father  and  son,  the   father  getting   12  +  10  years,  the  son,  who  is 
 
 less  important,  12  — I o. 
 
 Nine. kings,   from  Jehu   to   Hoshea,    share  the  remaining    144  years. 
 
 The  chronological  division  here  is  not  yet  clear,  though  we  may  note  that 
 
 144=16x9. 
 
 5.     The  Prophetic  Literature. 
 
 Only  a  few  general  remarks  can  be  made  on  the  writings  of  the  pro- 
 phets. They  are  of  immense  importance  in  furnishing  us  with  accounts 
 of  historical  events  as  well  as  in  enabling  us  to  trace  the  development  of 
 religion  in  ancient  Israel.  Without  them  it  would  have  been  impossible 
 to  have  obtained  an  accurate  history  from  the  sixth  to  the  eighth  century, 
 since,  as  we  have  already  seen,  the  historical  books  give  as  a  rule  only 
 meagre  narratives,  and  even  start  from  false  premises.  It  is  necessary, 
 however,  to  bear  in  mind  that  the  writings  of  the  prophets  are  all  written 
 from  one  point  of  view.  But  since  this  point  of  view  is  known,  we  are 
 able  to  correct  their  judgments  of  historical  persons  and  events.  More- 
 over it  was  not  the  direct  object  of  the  prophets  to  write  history.  Though 
 therefore  they  have  at  times  given  a  mistaken  judgment  on  some  matter, 
 they  have  not  pushed  this  judgment  to  its  natural  consequences,  and  have 
 left  us  with  sufficient  information  to  enable  us  to  set  the  event  in  its  true 
 light. 
 
 We  must  remember,  too,  that  the  prophetical  writings  which  remain  to 
 us  only  represent  one  development  of  prophecy.^  The  writings  of  the 
 so-called  "  false  "  prophets  have  all  perished,  because  they  were  developed 
 on  other  lines  ;  and  even  those  wliich  we  now  possess  Iiave  for  the  most 
 part  suffered  from  redaction  at  the  time  they  were  received  into  the  canon 
 in  order  to  bring  them  into  more  thorough  agreement  with  the  fi.xed  stan- 
 dard of  development  which  had  been  adopted. 
 
 6.     The  Eook.s  of  the  Chronicle.s. 
 The  Books  of  the  Chronicles,  like  the  Books  of  Samuel  and  the  Kings, 
 form  only  one  book  in  the  original  Hebrew  MSS.     Formerly  the  Books  of 
 
 '  Sec  Rcnau  II.  435,  439. 
 
ANCIENT  JUDAISM.  51 
 
 Ezra  and  Nehemiah,  which  were  also  once  one  book,  were  a  part  of  this 
 work,  since  the  concluding  verses  of  the  Chronicles  (2  Chr.  xxxvi.  22,  23) 
 are  identical  with  the  opening  verses  of  Ezra  (Ez.  i.  1-3).  Ezra  and 
 Nehemiah,  however,  were  received  into  the  canon  before  the  Books  of  the 
 Chronicles,  probably  because  the  latter  treated  of  events  of  which  there 
 was  already  a  canonical  history.  There  is  abundant  proof  that  the  whole 
 work  cannot  have  been  composed  before  the  year  300  b.c.^ 
 
 The  narrative  of  the  Chronicles  differs  widely  from  that  of  the  Books  of 
 Samuel  and  the  Kings  ;  but  it  is  obvious  that  the  variations  all  spring  from 
 the  one  desire  to  Judaize  the  past  and  to  represent  the  priestly  law  as 
 having  been  from  the  time  of  Moses  the  law  of  Israel.-  It  is  thus  without 
 value  as  an  authority  for  the  history  of  Israel.  It  is  true  that  the  author 
 of  the  Chronicles  gives  frequent  references  to  other  writings ;  but  these 
 are  all  different  parts  of  one  and  the  same  book,  which  can  be  nothing  else 
 than  an  "apocryphal  amplification"  of  the  Books  of  the  Kings  ^  after  the 
 manner  in  which  the  scribes  treated  the  sacred  history.  "  It  is  indeed 
 possible  that  occasionally  a  grain  of  good  corn  may  occur  among  the  chaff, 
 but  to  be  conscientious  one  must  neglect  this  possibility  of  exceptions, 
 and  give  due  honour  to  the  probability  of  the  rule,"  * 
 
 Since  the  chronicler  has  adopted  into  his  work  large  portions  of  the 
 Books  of  Samuel  and  the  Kings,  he  is  sometimes  of  service  in  settling  the 
 text  of  corrupted  passages. 
 
 7.     Ancient  Inscriptions. 
 
 {a)  The  Assyrian  and  Babylonian  inscriptions  are  of  great  importance 
 to  the  historian,  not  only  because  they  narrate  many  events  of  which  the 
 Israelite  history  is  silent,  but  also  because  they  often  narrate  the  same 
 events  as  the  latter  and  so  enable  us  to  correct  many  one-sided  impres- 
 sions. Their  chief  value  however  lies  in  their  furnishing  us  with  the  only 
 means  we  possess  of  fixing  the  chronology  of  the  Israelite  history.  During 
 the  period  between  722  and  586  b.c.  we  are  occasionally  able  to  test  and 
 correct  the  artificial  chronology  of  the  historical  books  of  the  Old  Testa- 
 ment by  means  of  the  prophetical  writings;  but  otherwise  we  are  completely 
 dependent  on  the  inscriptions.  As  the  Assyrians  and  Babylonians  pos- 
 sessed an  accurate  chronology,^  we  are  able  to  definitely  fix  the  dates  of 
 many  leading  events  in  the  Israelite  history. 
 
 '  e.g.  Tn  the  genealogy  of  the  house  of  David  (i  Chr.  iii.)  six  generations  after  Zerub- 
 habel  are  given.     If  we  reckon  a  generation  at  tliirty  years,  we  come  down  to   the  year 
 
 330  «•  ^■ 
 
 *  Full  details  are  given  in  Wellhausen,  171-227. 
 
 *  That  it  is  not  the  Books  of  Kings  themselves  is  clear  from  i  Chr.  ix.  i  ;  2  Chr. 
 xxxiii.  19.  The  use  of  the  word  "midrash"  in  2  Chr.  xiii.  22;  xxiv.  27,  shows  what 
 the  work  really  was. 
 
 *  Wellhausen,  224. 
 
 *  The  ancient  Hebrews,  on  the  contrary,  reckoned  only  by  the  years  of  their  kings,  or 
 by  some  striking  event  (Amos  i.  i). 
 
52  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 (J))  The  Egyptian  inscriptions  and  papyri  are  of  less  value,  since  they 
 are  rarely  concerned  with  Israel  and  its  history.  Only  of  one  event,  the 
 expedition  of  Shishak,  do  they  give  a  more  detailed  narrative  than  we 
 otherwise  possess.  They  are  of  use  in  giving  us  a  general  view  of  the 
 situation  during  the  period  of  conflict  between  Egypt  and  Assyria,  and 
 sometimes,  though  the  Egyptians  had  no  fixed  era  and  chronology  like  the 
 Assyrians,  help  us  to  correct  the  chronological  statements  of  the  Israelite 
 historians. 
 
 II.     THE  RELIGION  OF  ANCIENT  JUDAISM. 
 
 The  Israelites,  who  had  no  conception  of  the  world  as  a  universe,  were 
 of  course  unable  to  reach  the  conception  of  an  infinite  and  supreme  God, 
 the  maker  of  heaven  and  earth,  in  whom  all  live  and  move,  and  have 
 their  being.  Jehovah  ^  was  but  one  god  by  the  side  of  many  others,  as  is 
 shown  by  the  fact  of  his  bearing  a  proper  name,  by  which  he  was  distin- 
 guislied  from  other  gods.  Jehovah,  however,  was  Israel's  only  god,  the 
 relation  between  Jehovah  and  Israel  excluded  all  other  worship ;  in 
 ancient  Israel  monolatry  existed,  but  not  monotheism.  The  very  existence 
 of  other  nations  was  enough  to  prove  to  Israel  that  there  were  other 
 gods,  Jehovah  was  Israel's  god  as  Chemosh  was  god  of  Moab  and  Mil- 
 com  of  Amnion.  These  gods  gave  the  nations  their  territories  and  pro- 
 tected them,  just  as  Jehovah  gave  to  the  Israelites  Canaan  and  there  pro- 
 tected them. 
 
 It  is  clear  from  2  Kings  iii.  27,  where  the  "  indignation  "  is  that  of  Che- 
 mosh, that  Jehovah  reigned  only  in  Israel,  and  that  in  foreign  territory  he 
 was  inferior  to  the  gods  of  the  land.  If  an  Israelite  then  moved  into 
 another  country,  he  was  compelled  to  worship  its  god.  (r  Sam.  xxvi.  19  ; 
 2  Kings  V.  17.)  The  same  thing  of  course  held  good  for  foreigners 
 coming  to  Israel,  (i  Kings  xi.  7,  8.)  Side  by  side,  however,  with  this  idea 
 of  the  limit  of  Jehovah's  authority,  lay  a  strong  religious  conviction  that 
 he  did  exercise  his  power  in  foreign  lands,  a  conviction  based  on  the 
 feeling  that  he  was  more  powerful  than  other  gods,  (i  Sam.  v.  ;  Isa.  xix. 
 I  ;  Gen.  xxviii.  15  ;  xxxix.  2  ;  xlvi.  3  ;   i  Kings  xvii. ) 
 
 Israel's  God  was,  like  the  gods  of  other  ancient  nations,  a  spiritual, 
 personal  being.  Anthropopathic  and  anthropomorphic  ideas  abounded, 
 because  the  Israelite  was  only  able  to  picture  Jehovah  to  himself  after  the 
 analogy  of  his  own  nature.  But  this  was  an  advantage,  for  here  lay  the 
 power  and  vividness  of  the  old  Israelite  faith  ;  and  here  Jehovah  gradually 
 acquired  the  moral  traits  which  distinguished  him  from  the  nature  gods, 
 and  gave  rise  to  the  idea  that  he  was  a  god  above  nature  and  apart 
 from  it. 
 
 '  The  derivation  of  Jehovah,  or  Yahveh,  is  uncertain.  The  most  common  interpre- 
 tations of  the  word  arc,  "  lie  that  is,"  or  "  He  tliat  calls  into  being."  A  much  more 
 likely  derivation  is  from  a  root  meaning,  "  to  fall"  ;  Jchovali,  then,  would  be,  "  lie  wlio 
 makes  fall,"  that  is,  he  who  strikes  down  his  enemies  with  his  ihvmderbolts. 
 
ANCIENT  JUDAISM.  53 
 
 The  moral  grandeur  of  Jehovah  was  only  first  clearly  seen  by  the  pro- 
 jjhets ;  the  old  idea  of  his  holiness  was  closely  connected  with  that  of  his 
 power.  Since  he  was  mighty,  lie  exacted  worship  and  respect ;  no  one 
 could  look  on  him  and  not  die.  (Gen.  xxxii.  30;  Ex.  xxxiii.  20  ;  Deut.  v. 
 4;  Judges  vi.  22  ;  xiii.  22;  Isa.  vi.  5.)  This  thought  dominated  the  whole 
 range  of  the  cultus,  since,  not  only  did  every  one  who  wished  to  approach 
 God  have  to  do  so  with  prescribed  forms,  but  everything  given  to  God 
 shared  in  his  holiness,  and  any  profanation  was  visited  with  most  fearful 
 punishment.  Such  passages  as  i  Sam.  vi.  19,  20,  and  2  Sam.  vi.  6,  7, 
 show  tliat  the  conception  of  Jehovah's  holiness  had  nothing  moral  in  it. 
 
 Another  proof  of  this  is  given  by  the  circumstance  that  the  old  Israel- 
 ites knew  no  distinction  between  pliysical  and  moral  evil.  Jehovah  was 
 boldly  represented  as  the  author  of  the  one  as  well  as  of  the  other,  lead- 
 ing men  astray  by  urging  them  to  deeds  which  called  down  the  divine 
 wrath  and  worked  their  ruin.  Examples  of  this  are  found  in  i  Kuigs  xii. 
 15  ;  xxii.  20,  23  ;  Judges  ix.  23  ;  and  especially  in  i  Sam.  xxvi.  19,  where 
 the  contrast  between  Jeliovah  and  the  children  of  men  is  most  striking. 
 
 Ancient  Israel  therefore  represented  Jehovah,  not  as  a  loving  Father, 
 but  as  a  Being  easily  roused  to  wratli.  In  every  abnormal  course  of 
 events  his  anger  was  seen,  and  every  effort  was  at  once  made  to  appease  it. 
 (2  Sam.  vi.  12-15.) 
 
 In  all  these  respects  Jehovah  was  like  the  gods  of  other  nations.  The 
 great  ditTerence  between  them  lay  in  the  representation  of  Jehovah  as  a 
 jealous  god,  one  who  tolerated  no  otlier  worship  by  the  side  of  his  own.^ 
 Jehovah  demanded  from  Israel  complete  faithfulness,  while  Israel,  on  the 
 other  hand,  looked  to  Jehovah  for  help  and  succour  in  all  need  -  and 
 expected  him  to  lead  them  forth  against  tlieir  enemies.  (Judges  v.  4; 
 Numb.  xxi.  14;  i  Sam.  xxv.  28.)  Tliis  last  idea  finds  a  visible  expression 
 in  the  custom  of  taking  the  ark  into  battle.  It  is  perhaps  from  this  belief 
 in  Jehovah  as  their  leader  in  war,  that  the  Israelites  gave  him  the  title  of 
 "  Lord  of  Hosts." 
 
 This  conception  of  Jehovah  as  a  jealous  god,  demanding  the  entire 
 reverence  of  his  people,  destroyed  the  old  worship  of  ancestors,  and  i^re- 
 venleJ  the  Israelites  from  falling,  like  other  nations,  into  polytheism.  It 
 is  a  conception  peculiar  to  Israel,  and  not,  as  has  been  sometimes  said, 
 common  to  all  Semitic  peoples.  It  must  have  been  a  characteristic  of 
 the  Jehovistic  religion  from  the  first,  for  Israel  could  hardly  have  reached 
 it  while  exposed  to  the  polytheistic  ideas  of  other  nations ;  that  is,  it  must 
 owe  its  origin  to  Moses  himself. 
 
 Jehovah  was  not  represented  as  either  omnipotent,  omniscient,  or 
 omnipresent.^  It  was  enough  for  his  worshippers  to  picture  him  as  pos- 
 sessing power  and  knowledge  far  above  that  of  men,  and  as  always  listen- 
 
 '  This  idea  became  universal  only  in  the  prophetic  age,  but  it  is  a  direct  development 
 of  the  Mosaic  conception  of  Jehovah. 
 
 *  In  Exodus  xi.  2  lie  incites  Israel  to  theft.  *  Gen.  xviii.  17,  21. 
 
54  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 ing  to  their  prayers  and  coming  to  their  aid  in  time  of  need.  His  pre- 
 sence was  chiefly  seen  in  what  was  unusual  and  unexpected.  If  a  man 
 said  or  did  anything  which  was  beyond  ordinary  human  attainment,  he 
 was  supposed  to  be  possessed  by  Jehovah's  spirit.  Madness,  too,  was 
 regarded  as  divine  possession,  (i  Sam.  xvi.  14  ;  xviii.  10.)  In  later  limes 
 these  spirits  were  personified,  and  became,  some  angels,  some  demons, 
 (i  Kings  xxii.  19-22.) 
 
 When  Jehovah  appeared  to  his  worshii)pers,  it  was  in  the  form  of  a  man; 
 to  his  enemies  be  appeared  robed  in  terrible  majesty.  Many  expressions 
 lead  us  to  imagine  that  Jehovah  was  originally  the  storm  god,  and  that 
 his  presence  was  recognised  in  every  thunder-cloud.  (Judges  v.  4;  vi.  21  ; 
 Ps.  xxix. ;  Ex.  xix.  16;  iii.  2  ;   i  Kings  viii.  10;  xviii.  38;  Isa.  vi.) 
 
 Since  the  sight  of  Jehovah  brought  death,  the  thunder-clouds  which 
 concealed  him  were  regarded  as  friendly  spirits;  they  were  called  Cheru- 
 bim. (Ps.  xviii.  10;  I  Kings  vi.  23.)  The  flashes  of  lightning,  too,  were 
 regarded  as  spirits,  and  called  Seraphim,  probably  from  an  old  idea  that 
 they  were  snakes.     (Isa.  vi.  6  ;  2  Kings  xviii.  4.) 
 
 A  belief  in  spirits  was  common  to  all  desert  tribes.^  All  appearances 
 of  friendly  spirits  the  Israelites  referred  to  Jehovah,  either  to  the  god  him- 
 self or  to  his  angel.  Often  as  soon  as  the  angel  was  recognised,  he  was 
 regarded  as  Jehovah,-  and  sacrifice  was  offered  to  him.  (Gen.  xvi.  7  ; 
 xviii.  ;  ^  xxxi.  11;  Ex.  xxiii.  20;  xxxii.  34;  xxxiii.  2;  Numb.  xx.  16; 
 Judges  ii.  i.) 
 
 Ear  less  frequently  the  appearances  of  hostile  spirits  were  referred  to 
 Jehovah.  The  most  striking  instance  is  in  Ex.  iv.  24  ;  others  occur  in 
 Ex.  xii.  23;  Numb.  xxii.  22;  2  Sam.  xxiv.  16;  2  Kings  xix.  35. 
 
 The  Israelites  believed  that  dreams  were  sent  by  Jehovah.  (Gen,  xxvi, 
 2  ;  xxviii.  11-13  ;  xxxi.  11  ;  xlvi.  2  ;  i  Sam.  iii.  3  ;  i  Kings  iii.  5.)  Erom 
 this  belief  arose  the  idea,  common  to  many  ancient  nations,  that  the  divinity 
 preferred  to  ai)pear  by  night  and  departed  before  morning.  (Gen.  xxxii.  26.) 
 In  common,  too,  with  the  rest  of  antiquity,  Israel  believed  that  Jehovah 
 sometimes  made  known  the  future  to  his  worshippers,  especially  when 
 approached  with  prescribed  forms.  (Gen.  xxiv,  12-14;  xxvii.  20;  Judges 
 vi.  36-40;  Gen.  xxv.  22;  xliv.  5;   i  Kings  xx.  33.) 
 
 Ancient  Israel  did  not  imagine  that  Jehovah  dwelt  in  heaven.^  The 
 earliest  belief  was,  that  he  dwelt  at  Sinai  or  Horeb,  which  was  probably 
 the  ancient  seat  of  his  worship.  (Judges  v.  4  ;  Deut.  xxxiii,  2  ;  Ex.  iii.  1  ; 
 I  Kings  xix.  4.)  When  Canaan  was  conquered,  he  was  naturally  supposed, 
 as  god  of  the  land,  to  dwell  there  (Hos.  viii.  i  ;  ix.  3,  15  ;  Ex.  xv.  17  ; 
 I  Sam.  xxvi,  19;  Gen.  iv.  14),  especially  in  the  sanctuaries  which  had  been 
 
 '  Especially  spirits  in  the  form  of  goats.  The  ceremonies  connected  wilh  the  scape- 
 goat may  be  a  relic  of  these.      Compare  Isa.  xiii.  21  ;  xxxiv.  14;   Lev.  xvii.   7. 
 
 *  See  on  tlie  otiier  liaiid  Judges  xiii.  16,  wiiich  may,  however,  and  also  verse  1 9,  be 
 an  interpolation  from  a  rationalistic  point  of  view. 
 
 •*  The  "  three  "  men  are  a  late  addition. 
 
 *  'Jhe  fnsl  intimation  of  this  is  in  Gen.  xxviii.  (E). 
 
ANCIENT  JUDAISM.  55 
 
 taken  from  tlie  Canaanites  and  devoted  to  liis  worship.  1  As  these  sanc- 
 tuaries liad  been  consecrated  to  different  gods,  it  followed  that  a  distinc- 
 tion arose  between  the  gods  of  these  places,  each  of  whom  was  supposed 
 to  be  Jehovah.-  (Judges  vi.  24  ;  Amos  viii,  14;  Gen.  xvi.  13  ;  xxxi.  13.) 
 The  latest  belief  was,  that  he  dwelt  in  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  (i  Kings 
 viii.  10;  Ezek.  xliii.  7),  a  belief  connected  with  that  ancient  one  of  fetish 
 origin,  that  he  inhabited  the  ark.     (i  Sam.  iv.  3;  vi.  19;  2  Sam.  vi.) 
 
 I'>ery  Israelite  village  of  any  importance  had  a  place  of  worship  dedi- 
 cated to  Jehovah,  tlie  baina,  as  it  was  called,  situated  either  on  a  hill  or 
 under  a  tree.  The  larger  sanctuaries  were  built  near  some  striking  natural 
 object,  such  as  a  mountain,  a  spring,  or  a  rock. 
 
 In  common  with  the  rest  of  antiquity,  Israel  regarded  mountains  as 
 favourite  abodes  of  the  divinity  (Gen.  xxii.  14;  Numb,  xxiii.  3;  Deut. 
 xxxiii.  19;  2  Sam.  xv.  32;  i  Kings  xi.  7;  xviii.  19;  xx.  23),^  probably 
 because  they  were  frequently  covered  with  clouds. 
 
 Holy  trees  were  found  at  Hebron  (Gen.  xiii.  18;  xviii.  i),  Shechem 
 (Gen.  xii.  6;  xxxv.  4  ;  Josh.  xxiv.  26;  Judges  ix.  6j  37)^  Ophrah  (Judges 
 vi.  II,  19),  and  at  Beersheba  '  (Gen.  xxi.  33).  These  were  always  ever- 
 green trees,  as  being  the  best  symbols  of  life;  "green  "is  the  constant 
 adjective  applied  to  them  by  the  prophets.^  The  name  used  for  them  — 
 da  or  elon — shows  that  they  were  considered  to  be  divine  beings.  Their 
 sanctity  is  further  displayed  by  kings  sitting  under  them  to  give  judgment 
 (Judges  iv.  5  ;  i  Sam.  xiv.  2  ;  xxii.  6),  and  wise  men  to  utter  oracles,''  and 
 by  the  people  assembling  at  them  on  important  occasions.  (Josh.  xxiv. 
 26  ;  Judges  ix.  6  ;   i  Kings  xii.  i.) 
 
 There  were  holy  wells  at  Kadesh  (Numb,  xxvii.  14),  Beer-lahai-roi 
 (Gen.  xvi.  14;  xxiv.  62  ;  xxv.  11),  and  probably  at  Zion  (Ezek.  xlvii.  i  ; 
 Joel  iii.  18).  The  name  of  the  well  in  Nehem.  ii.  13,  short's  that  spirits 
 were  believed  to  dwell  in  the  springs. 
 
 Holy  stones  existed  at  Bethel  (Gen.  xxviii.  18;  xxxv.  14),  Ophrah 
 (Judges  vi.  20),  Zion  (2  Sam.  xxiv.  16),  Shechem  (Josh.  xxiv.  26),  Gilead 
 (Gen.  xxxi.  45),  Gilgal  (Josh.  iv.  ;  compare  Judges  iii.  19,  26),  and  other 
 places.'^ 
 
 1  Kx.  XX.  24.  The  expressions  used  for  sacrifice  and  consulting  the  oracle,  <?.,?-.  seek- 
 ing Jehovah,  approaching  him,  seeing  his  face,  as  well  as  the  cities  of  refuge,  which 
 could  only  have  possessed  their  rights  as  sanctuaries  of  Jehovah,  clearly  prove  this. 
 
 -  The  Priestly  Codex  liarnionizes  these  ideas  with  the  unity  of  Jehovah  by  deriving 
 the  sanctity  of  these  places  from  the  belief,  not  that  Jehovah,  dwelt  there,  but  that  he 
 had  appeared  there.     (Gen.  xviii.  ;  xxvi.  24  ;  xxviii.  ;  Judges  vi.  ;  2  Sam.  xxiv.) 
 
 s  Compare  too  the  prophetic  denunciation  of  the  popular  worship,  e.g.  Hos.  iv.  13  ; 
 Jer.  ii.  20;  iii.  6,  23;  xvii.  2;  Ez.  vi.  13  ;  xviii.  6,  15;  Is.  Ivii.  7;  Ixv.  7;  i  Kings 
 xiv.  23  ;  and  the  expression  "the  Baal  of  Poer  "  (Numb.  xxv.  3  marg.  of  R.V.). 
 
 ••  Though  the  real  object  of  worship  was  the  spring  (Gen.  xxvi.  33). 
 
 ^  .See  many  of  the  passages  quoted  in  note  (3). 
 
 6  As  shown  by  the  expressions  elun  mont  and  elon  mcomniin  (Gen.  xii.  6  ;  Deut.  xi. 
 30;  Jud.  ix.  37  ;  R.V.). 
 
 '>  See  Josh.  xv.  16  ;  xviii.  17  ;  xxii.  ;  i  Sam.  vi.  14,  15  ;  vii.  12;  2  Sam.  xx.  8  ;  i 
 Kings  i.  9.  SeeKuenen  i.  394,  395,  and  Robertson  Smith's  "Religion  of  the  Semites," 
 chapters  3,  4,  and  5. 
 
56  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 The  ark,  too,  probably  contained  a  meteoric  stone,  which,  as  it  fell  from 
 heaven,  was  regarded  as  the  abode  of  Jehovah.^ 
 
 Since  we  find  the  graves  of  the  ancestors  of  Israel  situated  on  moun- 
 tains,- or  connected  with  places  where  there  stood  either  a  tree  or  a 
 stone,'^  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  the  conclusion  to  which  we  are  led  by 
 many  other  considerations  that  the  pre-Jehovistic  worship  was  that  of 
 ancestors.* 
 
 From  the  worship  of  holy  stones  and  trees  arose  the  viasseba,  or  holy 
 pillars,  and  the  asc/iera,  or  holy  poles.^ 
 
 With  the  Israelites  these  pillars  were  not  hewn  into  any  form,  and  were 
 not,  therefore,  as  with  oiher  nations,  gradually  transformed  into  images. 
 That  they  were  necessary  adjuncts  to  divine  worship,  is  proved  by  the 
 Book  of  the  Covenant  (Ex.  xxiv.  4)  narrating  that  Moses  erected  twelve 
 at  Sinai  and  by  Hosea  (iii.  4;  x.  2),  and  Isaiah  (xix.  19)  considering 
 them  as  indispensable  as  the  altars  themselves. 
 
 The  sacred  poles  were  probably  originated  by  worshippers  of  tree 
 deities  who  were  forced  to  live  in  places  where  the  special  tree,  which  was 
 the  object  of  their  veneration,  did  not  grow.  The  aschera  were  con 
 founded  as  early  as  the  time  of  the  Deuteronomic  writers  with  Astarte;  but 
 the  expressions  "  plant "  and  "  hew  down,"  used  with  respect  to  them,  and 
 a  comparison  with  the  religious  customs  of  other  ancient  nations,  show 
 clearly  what  they  really  were.  They  are  mentioned  as  standing  by  the 
 altar  of  Jehovah  in  2  Kings  xiii.  6;  xviii.  4  ;  xxi.  7  ;  xxiii.  6,  15  ;  (R-V.) 
 compare  also  Ex.  xxxiv,  13  ;  Deut.  vii.  5  ;  xii.  3  ;  xvi.  21. 
 
 Since  natural  objects  were  regarded  as  the  abodes  of  deity,  there  was 
 little  need  of  temples ;  an  altar  built  in  the  simplest  way  of  unhewn  stones 
 near  the  sacred  tree  or  spring  was  enough.  In  later  times  altars  of  brass 
 came  into  use  in  the  temple  at  Jerusalem;  but  they  are  tacitly  condemned 
 in  the  Book  of  the  Covenant  (Ex.  xx.  24,  25).  That  the  use  of  these 
 was  a  foreign  custom  is  clear  from  2  Kings  xvi.  10,  11. 
 
 Another  religious  usage,  which  was  introduced  into  Israel  from  without,^ 
 was  the  worship  of  Jehovah  in  the  form  of  a  bull,  a  relic  of  totemism.  It 
 chiefly  prevailed  in  the  northern  kingdom,'  in  Jerusalem  the  ark  took  its 
 
 '  See  2  Sam.  xv.  25,  etc.  Probably  we  sliould  read  in  Gen.  xlix.  24  "the  shepherd 
 of  the  stone  of  Israel,"  the  reference  would  be  lo  lielhel  or  Gilead. 
 
 '■^  Numb.  XX.  28  ;  Josh.  xxiv.  30. 
 
 '  Gen.  xxiii.  17  ;  xxxv.  8,  20;  Numb.  xx.  i  ;  Josh.  xxiv.  32. 
 
 *  It  is  easy  to  understand  the  legend  that  Moses,  the  founder  of  llic  worshij)  which 
 swe])t  away  the  cult  of  ancestors,  was  buried  in  an  unknown  grave. 
 
 Perhaps  in  Gen.  xxxv.  4  we  have  a  trace  of  the  transference  from  one  worship  to  the 
 other.      Compare  Josh.  xxiv.  26. 
 
 '  'I'he  ])opular  itiea  of  these  was  doubtless  that  condemned  in  Jer.  ii.  27. 
 
 8  'JI1C  I'hojnicians  woishipped  Baal  in  the  form  of  a  bull.  The  wild  bull  ilid  not 
 exist  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Palestine,  nor  could  the  Israelites  have  kept  them  in  their 
 nomad  slate  from  lack  of  water.  The  bull  presupposes  agriculture  and  a  settled  condi- 
 tion. 
 
 ^  Bull  images  existed  in  Samaria,  Bethel  and  Dan  (i  Kings  xii.  28  ;  2  Kings  x.  29; 
 IIos.  viii.  5,  6  ;  x.  5). 
 
ANCIENT  JUDAISM.  57 
 
 place;  its  condemnation  lies  at  the  foundation  of  the  narrative  of  Ex. 
 xxxii.  A  wider  development  of  totemisni  is  mentioned  in  Ezek.  viii.  10, 
 though  the  passage  is  of  too  late  a  date  to  draw  any  decided  conclusions 
 from  it  with  respect  to  the  religious  observances  of  ancient  Israel.  The 
 command  of  Ex.  xx.  4  was  directed  against  such  practices.^ 
 
 Other  idols  of  which  we  read  in  tlie  Old  Testament  are  the  ephod,  the 
 brazen  serpent,  and  tlie  teraphim.  Of  these,  the  first,  from  its  derivation, 
 seems  to  have  been  an  image  of  wood,  plated  with  precious  metal.  There 
 was  one  in  the  sanctuary  of  Micah  (Judges  xvii.  5),  others  at  Ophrah 
 (Judges  viii.  27)  and  Nob  (i  Sam.  xxi.  9).  We  read  of  the  brazen  serpent 
 in  2  Kings  xviii.  4,  but  know  nothing  of  its  cult ;  -  the  story  in  Numbers 
 xxi.  is  an  attempt  to  bring  it  into  connection  with  the  religion  of  Jehovah. 
 The  teraphim,  used,  apparently,  like  the  ephod,  as  oracles,'^  may  have 
 been  images  of  ancestors,  as  they  were  of  the  size  and  shape  of  a  man ;  * 
 but  we  have  no  certain  information  about  them,  and  the  etymology  of  the 
 word  is  unknown. 
 
 The  belief  that  certain  men  were  possessed  by  the  deity  was  held  by 
 Israel  as  by  all  ancient  nations.  These  men,  called  "nebiim,"  or  prophets 
 were  from  the  first  in  the  service  of  the  worship  of  Jehovah  ;  he  was  their 
 God,  and  they  were  zealous  for  his  honour.  They  were  therefore  an 
 important  factor  in  the  religious  development  of  Israel,  since  they  clung 
 fast  to  the  idea  of  Moses,  that  Jehovah  alone  is  the  God  of  Israel  and 
 resisted  every  tendency  to  a  polytheistic  worship. 
 
 Jehovah,  like  the  gods  of  other  nations,  had  his  priests.  The  duty  of 
 these  was  in  early  times  not  so  much  to  sacrifice,''  for  every  head  of  a 
 family  could  do  this,  as  to  take  care  of  the  sanctuaries  and  consult  the 
 oracles  contained  in  them.  The  oracle  was  called  Urim  and  Thummim, 
 and  consisted  of  two  lots,**  by  means  of  which  one  could  get  the  answer 
 yes  or  no.  These  were  kept  in  the  ephod,  either  the  priestly  garment  or 
 the  image  of  that  name,  'i'he  answer  of  the  oracle  was  called  torah~>  i.e., 
 a  throw;  tliis  word  was  afterwards  used  of  every  instruction  given  by 
 priest  or  prophet.     In  later  days  all  priests  claimed  descent  from  Moses. 
 
 The  Nazarites  were  one  of  a  class  common  to  all  animistic  religions, 
 who  attempt  to  gain  the  favour  of  their  god  by  abstaining  from  certain 
 acts.  From  the  story  of  Samson  and  Amos  ii.  11,  12,  we  see  that  tliey 
 abstained  from  drinking  wine  and  cutting  their  hair,  i.e.,  they  avoided  all 
 connection  with  the  cult  of  ancestors.*^ 
 
 '   "  Anytliing  th.it  is  in  he.iven  above,"  refers  to  birds,  not  to  angels. 
 ^  Robertson  Sniitli,  in  "  Kinship  and  Marriage  in   Karly  Arabia,"  argues  from  2  Sam. 
 xvii.  25,  that  the  serpent  was  the  totem  of  David's  family. 
 ^  Ezek.  xxi.  21  ;   Hos.  iii.  4. 
 
 *  I  Sam.  xix.  13.  The  theory  that  they  were  images  of  ancestors  is  supported  by 
 Gen.  xxxi.  19  (R.V.). 
 
 '  Compare  Deut.  xxxiii.  8-10. 
 
 *  Perhaps  two  little  teraphim.  See  note  (3)  above. 
 T  Stade.  See,  however,  Kuenen's  Hexateuch,  177. 
 ^  Compare  Numb.  vi.  6-12. 
 
5'}  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 The  only  other  ministers  of  Jehovah  were  slaves,  generally  captured 
 in  war,  who  were  employed  at  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  in  menial 
 duties,^  and  the  men  and  women  who  served  their  god  with  acts  of 
 unchastity.^  This  latter  form  of  worship  was  doubtless  borrowed  from  the 
 religious  observances  of  the  Canaanites. 
 
 To  approach  Jehovah  in  worship,  it  was  necessary  to  be  clean,  that  is, 
 to  be  unpolluted  by  the  worship  of  any  other  god.  If  a  man  was 
 polluted  by  this  worship,  he  was  said  to  be  unclean  (Jer.  ii.  7,  23).  In 
 some  cases  the  uncleanness  was  contagious,  and  thus  separated  a  man 
 from  the  company  of  his  fellows.'-  Palestine  was  the  holy  land,  because 
 in  it  sacrifice  was  made  to  Jehovah,  every  other  country  was  unclean 
 because  there  Jehovah  could  not  be  worshipped.*  The  Israelite  who 
 left  his  country,  was  obliged  to  eat  unclean  food  (Hos.  ix.  3,  4  ;  Ez. 
 iv.  13)  J  if  he  died  in  a  foreign  land,  he  died  on  unclean  earth  (Amos 
 vii.  17). 
 
 Many  of  the  religious  laws  of  the  Israelites  become  clear  when  we 
 recognise  the  basis  on  which  the  distinction  of  clean  and  unclean  rests. 
 Others  (mentioned  in  2  Kings  vii.  3  ;  Lev.  xii.  and  .\v.  ;  i  Sam.  xxi.  4.  ; 
 2  Sam.  xi.  4)  are  to  be  explained  by  the  belief  that  certain  sicknesses  were 
 caused  by  the  possession  of  spirits,  and  tliat  certain  acts  put  men  in  the 
 power  of  these  spirits.  The  law  of  Lev.  xvii.  10-16  is  ■exi)lained  by  the 
 belief  that  the  blood  was  the  life; "  Ex.  xxiii.  19,  by  the  fact  that  such  milk 
 was  used  in  superstitious  lustrations  of  the  fields. 
 
 The  laws  of  clean  and  unclean  food  depended  on  some  animals  being 
 connected  with  other  worship  than  that  of  Jehovah,*^  on  others  being  the 
 totem  of  different  tribes,  for  no  family  eat  the  animal  which  was  its  totem 
 for  fear  of  devouring  an  ancestor  unawares.  The  large  number  of  unclean 
 animals  was  owing  to  the  circumstance  that  Israel,  on  becoming  a  nation, 
 adopted,  as  a  whole,  the  customs  of  its  constituent  tribes. ^ 
 
 Like  every  other  nation,  both  ancient  and  modern,  the  Israelites 
 attempted  to  get  a  favourable  answer  to  prayer  from  their  God,  by  promis- 
 ing him  some  offering  if  their  prayer  were  heard.  The  most  curious  in- 
 stance of  this  is  the  vow  which  they  were  accustomed  to  make  in  time  of 
 war,  viz.,  that  they  would  destroy  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  which 
 they  were  attacking,  and  the  town  itself,  as  a  sacrifice  to  Jehovah,  if  only 
 
 '  Ezra  viii.  17-20  ;  Josh.  ix.  27  ;  Ezek.  xliv.  8. 
 ^  Deut.  xxiii.  18;  Gen.  xxxviii. ;  Ezck.  xx.  30, 
 '  I  Sam.  XX.  26. 
 
 *  Hos.  iii.  4;  Ex.  viii.  26;   I  Sam.  xxvi.  19. 
 
 *  2  .Sam.  xxiii.  17. 
 
 *  Swine  were  sacred  animals  in  many  countries;  serpents  were  everywhere  regarded 
 as  the  incarnation  of  spirits. 
 
 '  This  was  not,  however,  imiversally  the  case,  Comi>are  Dcut.  xiv.  19  with  Lev.  xi. 
 21.  It  is  curious  that  at  the  present  day  some  Arabian  tribes  eat  tliese  anin>als,  while 
 others  do  not. 
 
ANCIENT  JUDAISM.  59 
 
 he  would  give  it  into  tlieir  hands.i  This  vow  was  afterwards  hmited  by 
 the  Deuteronomic  law  (Dcut.  xx.  13,  14). 
 
 Blessings  and  curses  were  frequent  in  the  mouths  of  the  Israelites.  The 
 importance  attached  to  a  father's  blessing  before  his  death,  and  the  great 
 fear  caused  by  a  curse  (Judges  xvii.  2),  were  relics  of  the  old  cult  ot 
 ancestors,  and  the  belief  that  certain  people  were  able  to  invoke  the  aid 
 of  spirits  to  work  their  will. 
 
 Sacrifice,  as  the  oldest  word  for  it,  7nhiha,  shows,  was  a  gift  to  the 
 deity,  either  to  gain  his  favour  or  to  display  gratitude  for  its  having  been 
 given. ^  The  usual  offering  was  food,  which  to  an  uncivilized  people  was 
 the  most  valued  treasure  it  could  give.  From  the  custom  of  offering  food 
 sprang  the  conception  of  a  sacrificial  meal,  the  sharing  one's  food  with 
 Jehovah.^  Since  Hesh  was  an  uncommon  luxury,  every  slaughter  of  an 
 animal  for  food  was  connected  with  sacrifice. 
 
 Sacrifice  was  rarely  offered  to  appease  Jehovah's  wrath,*  for  no  one 
 would  dare  to  approach  him  till  his  anger  had  ceased.'  Only  his  favoured 
 servants  would  venture  into  his  presence  under  such  circumstances,  and 
 hence  arose  the  custom  of  sacrifice  by  the  hands  of  a  priest. 
 
 ^Ve  read  very  seldom  of  human  sacrifice  "  except  in  the  form  mentioned 
 in  I  Sam.  xv.  The  laws  relating  to  the  firstborn  prove  that  the  Israelites 
 were  free  in  the  old  time  from  the  Canaanite  custom  of  sacrificing  their 
 children." 
 
 The  Israelite  festivals  were  either  lunar  feasts ^  or  thanksgivings  for  the 
 increase  of  fields  and  herds.  In  the  former  category  stood  the  new  moon 
 and  sabbath,  days  on  which  there  was  cessation  of  ordinary  business.^ 
 On  the  new  moon  the  common  sacrifice  of  the  family  seems  to  have  been 
 offered.^"  In  the  second  category  stood  the  three  great  festivals  of  un- 
 leavened bread,  of  weeks,  and  of  tabernacles.  The  first  was  the  feast  to 
 celebrate  the  beginning  of  the  harvest,^^  as  is  incidentally  divulged  in 
 Deut.  xvi.  9,  and  by  the  fact  that  a  sheaf  of  barley,  the  first  ripe  corn, 
 was  ofiered ;  the  second  to  celebrate  its  close  ;  the  third  to  celebrate  the 
 
 *  Compare  Keunen  i.  290,  291.  Wellhausen,  from  an  incidental  remark  on  p.  260, 
 seems  to  throw  doubt  on  the  cu,->tom.     See  also  Judges  ix.  45  ;  Josh.  vi.  21,  26. 
 
 -  Ex.  xxiii.  15  ;  xxxiv.  20  ;  Dcut.  xvi.  16. 
 
 5  Afar  better  theory  is  discussed  at  length  in  Robertson  Smith's  "Religion  of  the  Semites." 
 
 ■•   I  Sam.  iii.  14  ;  xxvi.  19. 
 
 *  2  Sam.  xxiv.  18-25. 
 
 *  Judges  .\i.  31. 
 
 7  2  Kings  iii.  27.  Perhaps  Gen.  xxii.  is  a  proof  tliat  the  custom  lingered  on  in 
 Hebron  and  Shechem,  parts  of  Palestine  which  were  the  last  to  come  under  Israelite 
 dominion. 
 
 «  Up  to  the  present  day  the  moon  is  thought  to  have  great  influence  on  life,  whether 
 of  plant,  beast,  or  man. 
 
 8  2  Kings  iv.  23  ^  Amos  viii.  5.  This  custom  presupposes  an  agricultural  life,  and 
 was  probably  borrowed  froi»  a  foreigrt  nation, 
 
 '"   I  Sam.  XX.  6,  24,  29. 
 
 "  Uideavened  bread  was  eaten  at  this  feast,  partly  because  it  was  quickest  prepared, 
 partly  because  yeast  would  connect  it  with  last  year's  harvest  and  so  deprive  it  ol  its 
 character  of  first-fruits. 
 
6o  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 ingathering  of  oil  and  wine.  With  the  feast  of  unleavened  bread  coincided 
 the  feast  on  which  the  firstlings  of  flocks  and  herds  were  offered.^  This 
 latter  seems  to  have  been  a  lunar  feast,  and  was  of  course  much  older 
 than  the  former,  which  presupposes  an  agricultural  life. 
 
 In  ancient  times  it  was  customary  to  visit  one  of  the  great  sanctuaries 
 at  the  time  of  the  feast  of  the  vintage.-  This  may  also  have  been  the 
 case  with  the  other  festivals ;  but  we  read  nothing  of  these  in  the  histori- 
 cal books,  and  it  is  obvious  that  the  last  feast  in  the  year  gave  the  best 
 opportunity  for  a  holiday.  Such  pilgrimages  were  of  great  value  in  driv- 
 ing home  to  the  hearts  of  the  people  the  belief  that  they  were  one  nation, 
 and  it  was  perhaps  at  such  gatherings  that  the  scattered  local  legends  were 
 woven  into  the  one  connected  story  of  the  patriarchs,  so  that  the  tribe  of 
 Ephraim  no  longer  claimed  descent  merely  from  Jacob,  and  Judah  from 
 Isaac  and  Abraham,  but  all  the  tribes  united  in  owning  Abraham,  Isaac, 
 and  Jacob  as  their  ancestors. 
 
 The  morality  of  Israel  was  like  that  of  other  ancient  nations,'^  though 
 in  some  respects  it  may  have  been  a  little  superior.  An  Israelite's  duty, 
 however,  lay  only  towards  his  fellow-countrymen,  the  foreigner  had  no 
 rights.'*^ 
 
 The  idea  of  sin,  too,  was  that  common  to  antiquity.  There  was  no 
 difference  between  a  deliberate  breaking  of  Jehovah's  law  and  an  uncon- 
 scious deviation  from  it  (i  Sam.  xiv.).  Since  the  divine  relationship  was 
 not  between  the  individual  and  God,  but  between  Israel  and  Jehovah,  it 
 followed  that  one  man's  sin  might  bring  punishment  on  the  whole  nation," 
 though  even  in  early  days  this  was  felt  to  be  hardly  right  j*^  and  on  the 
 other  hand  the  divine  wrath  against  the  nation  was  expiated  by  the 
 punishment  of  individuals.' 
 
 1  "  The  elaboration  of  the  historical  motive  of  the  passover  is  not  earlier  than 
 Deuteronomy.  .  ,  .  Wiiat  has  led  to  it  is  evidently  the  coincidence  of  the  spring 
 festival  with  tlie  exodus,  already  accepted  by  the  older  trailition,  tlie  relation  of  cause 
 and  effect  having  become  inverted  iu  course  of  time."     Wellhausen,  88. 
 
 *  I  Sam.  i.  3  ;   I  Kings  xii.  32. 
 
 *  Immorality,  for  example,  meets  with  no  reproof  (Gen.  xxxviii  ;  Judges  xvi.),  except 
 with  another  man's  wife  (Gen.  xxxix.  9). 
 
 *  Deut.  xxiii.  19,  20.  Jehovah  protects  Abraham  and  Isaac  after  they  have  told  lies, 
 and  punishes  the  innocent  foreigner.      (Jen.  xii.,  xx.,  and  xxvi. 
 
 *  Gen.  xii.  17;  xx.  9;  xxvi.  10;  i  .Sam.  xiv.  38;  2  Sam.  xxi.  I;  xxiv.  13.  Com- 
 pare I  Kings  xvii.  20. 
 
 '  2  Sam.  xxiv.  17  ;  Gen.  xviii.  23. 
 
 '  Numb.   XXV.  3,  4 ;  2  Sam.  xxi.  6;  Ex.  xxxii,  27. 
 
CONFUCIUS  THE  SAGE,  AND  THE  RELIGION 
 
 OF  CHINA. 
 
 By  Professor  James  Legge. 
 
 The  subject  which  I  have  undertaken  to  bring  before  you  is,  you  perceive, 
 twofold  :  Confucius  the  Sage,  and  the  Rehgion  of  China.  I  purposely 
 worded  it  so.  Two  errors  are  frequently  fallen  into  about  Confucius. 
 Some  writers  represent  him  as  the  author  of  what  I  may  call  the  State 
 religion  of  his  country  ;  while  others  contend  that  his  teaching  is  merely  a 
 system  of  morality,  without  the  element  of  religion.  I  have  thought  it 
 would  be  well  if  I  constructed  my  lecture  this  afternoon  so  as  to  correct 
 both  those  errors,  and  give  you,  so  far  as  the  time  will  permit,  some  in- 
 formation as  to  who  and  what  Confucius  was,  and  what  was  the  nature  of 
 that  religion  which  was  his  by  inheritance.  We  shall  thus  see  how  the  two 
 errors  about  him  have  arisen,  be  able  to  form  an  opinion  as  to  the  service 
 which  he  did  for  China  and  the  world,  and  also  to  pass  a  judgment  as  to 
 the  religious  beliefs  and  practices  which  have  obtained  among  the  Chinese 
 people  from  time  immemorial. 
 
 First,  then,  let  me  speak  to  you  of  Confucius,  giving  you  a  brief 
 sketch  of  his  history,  character,  and  teachings,  without  bringing  in  the 
 subject  of  religion.  I  need  hardly  tell  you  that  the  name  Confucius  is 
 merely  the  Latinized  form  of  the  three  Chinese  words  K'ung  Fd-tsze 
 (JL  ^  ■?)'  '"^''^'ling  "The  Master  K'ung,"  equivalent,  in  the  mouths  of 
 his  disciples,  to  "  Our  Master  K'ung,"  and  accepted  generally  as  the  de- 
 nomination of  him  as  the  most  distinguished,  or  among  the  most  dis- 
 tinguished, of  all  human  teachers.  He  was  emphatically  a  teacher.  He 
 was  not  a  hero,  whose  history  can  be  made  interesting  by  a  record  of  his 
 military  prowess,  nor  a  man  of  science,  who  enlarged  the  boundaries  of 
 knowledge  and  opened  the  way  to  new  triumphs  of  man  over  nature.  He 
 was  the  sage,  the  man  of  calm  and  practical  wisdom,  inspired  by  the  love 
 of  mankind,  and  inculcating  the  lessons  of  human  duty. 
 
 His  surname,  as  I  have  just  intimated,  was  K'ung;  and  his  birth  took 
 place  in  the  year  r.c.  551,  in  what  was  then  the  feudal  State  of  Lti,  a 
 portion  of  what  is  now  the  province  of  Shan-tung,  on  the  eastern  seaboard 
 of  China.  But  tliough  he  was  born  in  Lil,  his  family  had  migrated  thither 
 from  the  duchy  of  Sung,  in  the  present  province  of  Ho-nan.  The  K'ung 
 clan  was  a  branch  of  the  ducal  House  of  Sung,  which  itself  was  descended 
 from  the  kings  of  the  dynasty  of  Shang,  who  had  ruled  from  B.C.  1766  to 
 1 1 23,  and  who  traced  their  Hneage  back  to  Hwang  Ti,  the  first  year  of 
 whose  reign  is  said  to  have  been  in  B.C.  2697.    There  are  tens  of  thousands 
 
 61 
 
62  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  K'ungs  now  living,  who  boast  of  being  descended  from  Confucius,  and 
 who  have  thus  an  ancestry  going  back  into  the  mists  of  antiquity  more 
 than  four  thousand  five  hundred  years  ago.  Between  the  K'ungs  and 
 another  more  powerful  clan  of  Sung  there  was  an  hereditary  enmity  ;  and 
 the  great-grandtather  of  our  subject  fled  in  consequence  to  the  marquis- 
 ate  of  Lil,  and  settled  there.  Confucius'  father,  called  ShiVliang  Hih,  is 
 known  to  us  as  sustaining  an  honourable  position,  and  an  officer  of  extra- 
 ordinary strength  and  bravery.  We  are  told  that,  in  the  year  B.C.  562, 
 when  serving  at  the  siege  of  a  place  called  Pih-yang,  a  party  of  the  assail- 
 ants made  their  way  in  at  a  gate  which  had  purposely  been  left  open,  and 
 that  no  sooner  were  they  inside  than  the  portcullis  was  dropped.  Hih  was 
 entering  with  the  others  ;  but,  catching  the  massive  structure  with  both 
 his  hands  he  gradually  by  his  great  strength  raised  it,  and  held  it  up  till  all 
 his  friends  had  turned  and  made  their  escape  out.  In  his  old  age,  for 
 reasons  into  a  detail  of  which  I  need  not  go,  he  divorced  his  wife,  and 
 contracted  a  second  marriage  with  a  young  lady  of  the  family  of  Yen,  of 
 whom  Confucius  was  born  in  B.C.  551,  as  I  have  said. 
 
 The  old  father  died  soon  afterwards,  when  the  boy  was  in  his  third  year ; 
 and  his  mother  and  he  were  left  in  straitened  circumstances.  The  lad 
 developed  early  the  tendencies  of  his  character.  He  has  left  us  a  very 
 brief  account  of  his  mental  growth,  saying  that  at  fifteen  his  mind  was  set 
 on  learning,  and  that  at  seventy  he  could  do  whatever  his  heart  prompted, 
 confident  that  it  was  right.  When  his  mother  died,  in  his  twenty-third  or 
 twenty-fourth  year,  he  raised  the  coffin  in  which,  probably  on  account  of 
 her  poverty,  she  had  buried  her  husband  near  the  place  where  they  lived, 
 and  took  it  and  her  coffin  to  the  place  in  which  the  K'ungs  had  first  found 
 refuge  in  \A,  and  laid  them  there  in  the  same  grave.  Before  his  mother's 
 death  he  had  married  himself;  and  he  appears  to  have  lived  with  his  wife 
 hapi^ily  enough  for  about  fifty  years.  There  is  no  sufficient  evidence  that  he 
 divorced  her,  as  has  been  alleged,  or  ever  introduced  a  concubine  into  his 
 family.  So  far  as  his  own  practice  is  concerned,  Confucius  was  a  mono- 
 gamist. His  children  were  not  many.  He  had  one  son,  merely  an  ordinary, 
 average  man,  but  who  left  a  son  superior  to  himself,  and  to  whom  we  are 
 indebted  for  the  most  complete  and  philosophical  account  of  his  grand- 
 father's teachings.  Mention  is  made,  in  the  Confucian  Analects,  Book  V., 
 of  a  daughter,  whom  he  married  to  an  officer  that  had  been  imprisoned 
 under  a  false  charge,  but  of  whose  wortliiness  Confucius  was  convinced  ; 
 and  in  a  smaller  cemetery  adjoining  that  where  he,  his  son,  and  grandson 
 were  buried,  there  is  the  grave  of  another  daughter,  who  died  when  she  was 
 quite  young.  These  appear  to  have  been  all  his  children.  Probably  in 
 his  twenty-second  year  Confucius  commenced  his  labours  as  a  teacher  in 
 his  native  village.  But  he  was  not  what  we  call  a  schoolmaster,  teaching 
 boys  the  rudiments  of  education.  His  house  was  the  resort  of  young 
 and  inquiring  spirits,  whose  attention  he  directed  to  the  ancient  monu- 
 ments of  the  nation's  history  and  literature,  unfolding  to  them  at  the  same 
 
CONFUCIUS  AND    THE  RELIGION  OF  CHINA.  63 
 
 time  the  principles  of  human  duty  and  of  government.  Tliis  was  the  work 
 of  liis  hfe,  for  he  neither  wrote  nor  instituted  much  himself.  His  first 
 biographer,  the  historian  Szc-ma  Ch'ien,  says  that  "  he  wrote  a  Preface 
 to  the  Book  of  History;  carefully  digested  the  Rites  and  Ceremonies 
 determined  by  the  wisdom  of  the  ancient  Sages  and  Kings  ;  collected  and 
 arranged  the  ancient  Poems  ;  and  undertook  the  reform  of  Music."  But 
 Confucius's  labours  on  the  ancient  writings  appear  to  have  been  slight,  and 
 there  is  no  reliable  ground  for  supposing  that  he  either  added  to  or  took 
 from  the  Books  of  History  and  Rites,  which  had  come  down  to  his  time. 
 The  only  work  which  he  claimed  as  his  own  was  the  "  Chronicle  of  the 
 Spring  and  Autumn,"  which  can  only  be  considered  a  meagre  compilation, 
 and  would  have  little  interest  but  for  the  three  Supplements  to  it  by  other 
 hands  which  have  also  been  preserved.  Perhaps  he  made  some  alterations 
 in  the  Book  of  Poetry,  for  he  says  himself,  "  1  returned  from  Wei  to  LCl, 
 and  then  the  music  was  reformed  ;  and  the  pieces  in  the  Imperial  Songs 
 and  Praise  Songs  found  all  their  proper  place." 
 
 His  disciples,  first  and  last,  amounted,  it  is  said,  to  three  thousand ;  and 
 among  them  there  were  between  seventy  and  eighty  whom  he  highly  valued, 
 and  praised  as  "  scholars  of  extraordinary  ability."     From  the  time  that  he 
 thus  comes  before  us  on  the  stage  of  public  life,  and  especially  during  the 
 long  period  of  wandering  among  different  States  that  subsequently  befell 
 him,  he  always  ai)pears  attended   by  companies  of  his  disciples.     These 
 must  have  supported  him.     In  his  earlier  school  he  received  all  who  came 
 to  him  for  instruction,  and  did  not  refuse  the  smallest  fee;  but  he  required 
 from  all  an  ardent  desire  for  improvement  and  a  good  measure  of  capacity. 
 It  is  difficult  for  us,  however,  to  understand  this  feature  of  his  course: — 
 how,  wliile  dependent  on   the  sympathy  and  support  of  his  followers,  he 
 yet  maintained  among  them  the  most  entire  authority  and  independence. 
 When  Mencius,  who  is  styled  "  the  secondary  Sage,"  came  after  him,  about 
 a  century  and  a  half  later,  and  went  about  the  country  in  the  same  way, 
 enforcing  the  lessons  of  "  the  Master,"  he  accepted  the  gifts  of  difi"erent 
 princes  to  an  extent  that  startled  even  his  disciples.     But  Confucius  never 
 did  so.     He  would  not  demean  himself  to  receive  help  from  a  ruler  whom 
 he  disapproved,  and  who  would  not  carry  out  his  principles  in  the  govern- 
 ment of  his  people.     Confucius  must  have  been  supported  by  the  free-will 
 contributions  of  his  disciples.     This  point  in  the  study  of  his  course  has 
 often  suggested  to  me   the  passage  in  the  Gospel  of  Luke  where  it  says 
 (chap.  viii.  1-3)  that  Jesus  "went  about  through  cities  and  villages,  preach- 
 ing the  good  tidings  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  with  Him  the  twelve  and 
 certain  women  that  had  been  healed  of  evil  spirits  and  infirmities  :— Mary 
 Magdalene  and  Joanna,  the  wife  of  Chuza,  Herod's  steward,  and  Susanna, 
 and  many  others,  which  ministered  to  them  of  their  substance." 
 
 A  noble  by  descent,  and  soon  widely  known  for  his  attainments,  Con- 
 fucius might  have  expected  to  be  called  to  a  position  in  the  government  of 
 the  State.     But  the  time  was  one  of  great  corruption  and  disorder.     The 
 
64  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 general  government  of  the  kingdom  was  feeble,  and  every  feudal  State  was 
 torn  by  contentions  between  its  ruler  and  the  chiefs  of  tlie  clans  in  it,  as 
 well  as  by  collisions  between  those  clans  themselves.  We  find  him,  indeed, 
 when  he  was  about  twenty,  employed  as  keeper  of  the  stores  of  grain,  and 
 in  charge  of  some  public  fields  and  herds ;  but,  according  to  Mencius,  he 
 undertook  those  humble  offices  because  of  his  poverty,  and  contented 
 himself  with  the  simple  discharge  of  their  duties.  Still  his  character  and 
 reputation  were  gradually  making  themselves  felt  through  the  State.  He 
 found  means  to  visit  the  capital  of  the  kingdom,  and  examine  many  of  its 
 most  remarkable  monuments  ;  and  there  he  met  and  also  conversed  with 
 Lao-tsze,  the  prophet  of  Taoism.  He  was  able  also  to  take  refuge  for  a  time 
 from  the  disorders  of  \A  in  the  neighbouring  State  of  Ch'i.  At  last,  when 
 he  was  over  fifty,  he  was  made  governor  of  one  of  the  towns  of  Lit.  There 
 his  administration  was  so  successful  that  he  was  soon  raised  to  higher 
 dignities,  and  at  last  became  Minister  of  Crime  for  the  whole  State.  "  He 
 strengthened,"  we  are  told,  "  the  ruling  house,  and  weakened  the  usurping 
 chiefs.  A  transforming  government  went  abroad.  Dishonesty  and  disso- 
 luteness were  ashamed,  and  hid  their  heads.  Loyalty  and  good  faith 
 became  tlie  characteristics  of  the  men,  and  chastity  and  docility  those  of 
 the  women.  Confucius  became  the  idol  of  the  people,  and  flew  in  songs 
 through  their  mouths.  The  people  of  other  States  flocked  in  crowds  to  L(t, 
 to  enjoy  the  blessing  of  its  good  order."  But  this  sky  of  bright  promise 
 was  soon  overcast.  The  other  States  became  jealous  of  the  prosperity  of 
 L<i,  and  afraid  of  the  influence  of  its  Minister  of  Crime.  The  ALarquis  of 
 Ch'i,  the  nearest  of  them,  succeeded,  by  a  most  scandalous  scheme,  in 
 alienating  the  mind  of  the  ruler  of  Lil  from  his  wise  counsellor.  Confucius 
 became  convinced  that  it  was  unbecoming  his  character  to  continue  longer 
 in  the  State.  Slowly  and  sorrowfully  he  left  it,  and  in  B.C.  496  went  forth 
 with  a  company  of  his  disciples,  to  thirteen  years  of  homeless  wandering, 
 trying  to  find  a  ruler  who  had  ears  to  hear  his  instructions,  and  goodness 
 and  wisdom  to  follow  them.  The  quest  was  in  vain;  but  the  record  of  his 
 experiences  during  that  long  and  painful  time  is  full  of  interest. 
 
 More  than  once  he  and  the  faithful  few  who  would  not  leave  him  were 
 in  danger  of  perishing  from  want,  or  at  the  hands  of  excited  mobs.  On 
 one  occasion,  when  they  were  surrounded  by  an  infuriate  multitude  and 
 the  discijjles  were  alarmed,  he  calmly  said  to  them,  "  Heaven  produced 
 the  virtue  that  is  in  me.  What  can  these  people  do  to  me  ?  "  This  was 
 always  the  way  in  which  Confucius  spoke  in  his  highest  utterances  about 
 himself.  He  never  claimed  to  be  anything  more  than  man  ;  but  he  felt 
 that  he  had  a  divine  mission.  He  knew  the  Way  ; — the  way  for  the  indi- 
 vidual to  perfect  himself  and  the  way  for  governors  to  rule  so  as  to  make 
 their  ])eople  happy  and  good.  To  teach  this  was  his  mission,  and  he 
 would  be  faithful  to  it  to  the  last.  In  the  midst  of  his  disciples,  famishing 
 and  frightened,  he  was  always  calm,  and  cheered  them,  singing  to  his  lute. 
 
 We  cannot  doubt  that  he  was  well  skilled   in  the  music  of  his  time  and 
 
CONFUCIUS  AND    THE  RELIGION  OF  CHINA.  65 
 
 countr)',  and  found  in  it  for  himself  and  his  followers  a  solace  and  source 
 of  strength  ;  but  it  is  important  to  keep  in  mind  that  he  never  claimed  to 
 possess  any  supernatural  endowments.  There  are  passages,  indeed,  in 
 Sze-ma  Ch'icn's  Biography  which  ascribe  to  him  a  knowledge  such  as 
 nol)ody  else  possessed  ;  but,  where  tliey  are  most  evidently  legendary  and 
 ridiculous,  they  yet  come  short  of  anything  approaching  to  the  supernatural 
 or  miraculous.  When  a  high  officer  was  once  complimenting  the  disciples 
 on  the  various  al)ility  of  their  master,  Confucius  said,  "When  I  was  young, 
 my  condition  was  low,  and  so  I  acquired  my  ability  in  many  things;  but 
 they  were  mean  matters,  ^fust  the  superior  man  have  such  variety  of 
 ability  ?  He  does  not  need  it."  On  the  subject  of  his  knowledge,  again, 
 he  said,  "  I  am  not  one  who  was  born  in  the  possession  of  knowledge  ;  I 
 am  one  who  is  fond  of  anti<iuity,  and  earnest  in  seeking  it  there." 
 
 When  travelling  with  his  disciples,  tlie  wanderer  occasionally  came 
 across  recluses,  men  who  had  withdrawn  from  the  world  in  disgust,  and 
 derided  him,  always  striving,  and  striving  in  vain,  with  his  plans  of  refor- 
 mation. "  Than  follow  one  who  withdraws  from  this  ruler  and  that,  had 
 you  not  better  follow  those  who  witlidraw  from  the  world  altogetlier  ?  ' 
 said  one  of  those  recluses  to  a  disciple.  When  his  words  were  reported 
 to  the  Master,  he  said,  "  It  is  impossible  to  associate  with  birds  and  beastF, 
 If  I  associate  not  with  the  i)eople,  with  whom  shall  I  associate  .^  If  the 
 right  way  prevailed  in  the  world,  there  would  be  no  need  for  me  to  cliange 
 its  state." 
 
 At  length  Confucius  was  recalled  to  Lu,  in  u.c  48,3,  but  he  was  now  in 
 his  sixty-ninth  year.  Only  five  years  more  remained  to  him.  He  hardly 
 re-entered  public  life,  but  devoted  the  time  to  completing  his  literary  tasks. 
 His  son  died  in  482,  but  he  bore  that  event  with  more  equanimity  than  he 
 did  the  death  of  liis  favourite  disciple.  Yen  Hui,  in  the  year  following. 
 His  own  death  took  place  in  the  spring  of  478.  The  account  which  we 
 have  of  it  is  the  following  : — Early  one  morning  he  got  up ;  and  with  liis 
 hands  behind  him,  and  trailing  his  staff,  he  moved  about  by  the  door, 
 crooning  over — 
 
 "  TIic  grcal  iiunir.t;\in  niusl  cninible, 
 Tlic  stroiij;  lieain  nuisi  break, 
 And  the  wise  man  wither  away  like  a  plant." 
 
 After  a  little  he  entered  the  house,  and  sat  down  opposite  the  door.  The 
 disciple  Tsze-kung,  who  was  in  attendance  on  him,  had  heard  the  words, 
 and  said  to  himself,  "  I  am  afraid  the  master  is  going  to  be  ill."  ^^'ith  this 
 he  hastened  into  the  house,  when  Confucius  told  him  a  dream  which  he 
 had  had  in  the  night,  and  which  he  thought  presaged  his  death,  adding, 
 *'  No  intelligent  monarch  arises ;  there  is  no  ruler  in  the  kingdom  who  will 
 make  me  his  master;  my  time  has  come  to  die."  So  it  was.  He  took  to 
 his  couch,  and  after  seven  days  expired. 
 
 Such  was  the  death  of  the  great  sage  of  China.     His  end  was  not  unim- 
 pressive, but  it  was  melancholy.     He  uttered  no  prayer,  and  he  betrayed 
 
 VOL.   I.  F 
 
66  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 no  apprehension.  "  The  mountain  falling  came  to  nought,  and  the  rock 
 was  removed  out  of  its  place.  So  death  prevailed  against  him,  and  he 
 passed.     His  countenance  was  changed,  and  he  was  sent  away." 
 
 I  have  thus  given  a  very  condensed  outline  of  the  events  of  Confucius' 
 life.  Of  his  personal  appearance,  his  habits,  and  his  sayings  we  have 
 abundant  details  in  the  records  of  his  disciples.  He  was  tall,  and  metho- 
 dical, doing  everything  in  the  proper  way,  time,  and  place.  He  was  nice 
 in  his  eating,  but  not  a  great  eater.  He  was  not  a  total  abstainer  from 
 spirituous  drink,  but  he  never  took  too  much.  To  confine  myself  to  what 
 they  tell  us  of  him  as  a  teacher  : — They  found  him  free  from  foregone  con- 
 clusions, arbitrary  determinations,  obstinacy,  and  egoism  ;  he  would  not 
 talk  with  them  about  extraordinary  things,  feats  of  strength,  rebellious  dis- 
 order, and  spiritual  beings  ;  he  frequently  discoursed  to  them  about  the 
 Books  of  Poetry  and  History  and  the  Rules  of  Propriety;  there  were  three 
 things,  he  said,  in  which  the  greatest  caution  was  required, — fasting  (as 
 preparatory  to  sacrifice),  going  to  war,  and  the  treatment  of  disease;  he 
 insisted  on  their  cultivating  letters,  ethics,  leal-heartedness,  and  truthful- 
 ness ;  and  there  were  three  things  on  which  he  seldom  dwelt,— the  profit- 
 able, the  decrees  of  Heaven,  and  perfect  virtue. 
 
 He  held  that  society  was  made  up  of  five  relationships, — those  of  hus- 
 band and  wife,  of  parent  and  child,  of  elder  and  younger  brother,  or 
 generally  of  elders  and  youngers,  of  ruler  and  minister  or  subject,  and  oi 
 friend  and  friend.  A  country  would  be  well  governed  when  all  the  parlies 
 in  those  relationships  performed  their  parts  aright ;  thougli  I  must  think 
 that  he  allowed  too  much  to  the  authority  of  the  higher  i>arty  in  each  ot 
 them.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  there  was  no  such  moral  teaching  in 
 the  literature  of  China  before  his  time.  There  was  much,  but  he  invested 
 it  all  with  a  new  grace  and  dignity.  His  greatest  achievement,  however, 
 in  his  moral  teaching  was  his  inculcation  of  the  Colden  Rule,  which  he 
 delivered  at  least  five  separate  times.  Tsze-kung  once  asked  him  whether 
 there  were  any  one  word  which  might  serve  as  a  rule  of  practice  for  all 
 one's  life.  His  rei)ly  was,  "  Is  there  not  sJiu  (^,)  ?  "  that  is,  reciprocity,  or 
 ollruisni  :  and  he  added  the  explanation  of  it : — "  What  you  do  not  want 
 done  to  yourself,  do  not  do  to  others.  The  same  discii)le  on  another 
 occasion  saying  that  he  observed  the  rule,  Confucius  simi)ly  remarked, 
 "Ah!  you  have  not  attained  to  that!"  He  tells  us,  indeed,  in  one 
 important  passage— and  we  do  not  think  the  worse  of  him  for  the  acknow- 
 ledgment— that  he  was  not  able  himself  to  follow  the  rule  in  its  positive 
 form  in  any  one  of  the  relationships. 
 
 Many  of  his  short   sayings  are  admirable  in  their   pith  and   sagacity. 
 What  could  be  better  than  these  ? — 
 
 "  Learning  without  thought  is  labour  lost;  thought  without  learning  is 
 perilous. ' 
 
 "  It  is  only  the  truly  virtuous  who  can  love  or  hate  others." 
 
 "  Can  there  be  love  which  docs  not  lead  to  strictness  in  the  training  of 
 
CONFUCIUS  AND    THE   RELIGION  OF  CHINA.  C; 
 
 its  object?     Can  there  be  loyalty  which  does  not  lead  to  the  instruction 
 of  its  object?  ' 
 
 "  To  be  poor  without  murmuring  is  difficult ;  to  be  rich  without  being 
 proud  is  easy." 
 
 Some  of  his  sayings,  indeed,  are  somewhat  enigmatical.  For  instance, 
 "  Let  a  good  man  teach  the  people  seven  years,  and  they  may  then 
 likewise  be  employed  in  war";  and  again,  "To  lead  an  uninstructed 
 people  to  war  is  to  throw  them  away."  But  from  these  commentators 
 deduce  the  lesson  that  when  a  people  are  well  trained  in  a  knowledge  of 
 all  their  duties,  they  will  be  prepared  to  die  for  their  country  and  king. 
 The  more  educated  the  lower  classes  of  a  people  are,  however,  the  less 
 likely  are  they  to  allow  themselves  to  be  led  by  their  superiors  to  the 
 battlefield. 
 
 There  was  nothing  he  liked  to  set  forth  so  much  as  the  character  of  his 
 superior  or  ideal  man.  Take  a  few  of  his  deliverances  on  this  subject : — 
 "The  superior  man  is  catholic,  and  not  a  partisan."  "He  does  what  is  proper 
 to  the  position  in  which  he  is  ;  he  does  not  desire  to  go  beyond  it.  He 
 finds  himself  in  no  position  in  which  he  is  not  himself"  I  will  give  you 
 one  more  specimen,  and  only  one  :  "  The  scholar  considers  leal-hearted- 
 ness  and  good  faith  to  be  his  coat  of  mail  and  helmet,  propriety  and 
 righteousness  to  be  his  shield  and  buckler  ;  he  walks  along,  bearing  over 
 his  head  benevolence  ;  he  dwells  holding  righteousness  in  his  arms  before 
 him  ;  the  government  may  be  violently  oppressive,  but  he  does  not  change 
 his  course  :  such  is  the  way  in  which  he  maintains  himself." 
 
 It  may  occur  to  you  that,  notwithstanding  all  I  have  said,  Confucius 
 does  not  appear  to  you  in  any  other  character  but  as  an  ethical  teacher  of 
 great  merit;  but  I  did  not  wish  in  this  part  of  the  lecture  to  exhibit  him 
 in  any  other.  Wherein  we  must  attach  to  his  teachings  a  religious  sanction 
 will  be  seen  in  the  other  part,  to  which  I  will  immediately  proceed. 
 
 Certain  failures  in  his  character  and  writings,  moreover,  have  been 
 pointed  out,  and  by  no  one  so  much  as  myself.  He  enunciated,  for 
 instance,  as  we  have  seen,  the  Golden  Rule ;  but  he  did  not,  or  would 
 not,  appreciate  the  still  higher  rule,  when  his  attention  was  called  to  it, 
 that  good  should  be  returned  for  injury  or  evil,  and  that  the  evil  will 
 thereby  be  overcome.  This  loftiest  of  all  maxims  was  enunciated  by  Lao- 
 tsze,  and  when  submitted  to  Confucius,  his  judgment  on  it  was,  "  With 
 what  then  will  you  recompense  good  or  kindness  ?  Recompense  mjury 
 with  justice,  and  kindness  with  kindness."  And  when  the  subject  subse- 
 quently came  before  him  in  his  intercourse  with  his  disciples,  he  never 
 advanced  beyond  that  deliverance.  Again,  while  Confucius  taught  truth- 
 fulness, there  are  many  passages  in  the  Spn'tig  and  Autumn^  which  he 
 claimed  especially  as  his  own  work,  that  awaken  doubts  as  to  its  historical 
 veracity.  But,  after  all,  these  charges  are  not  very  heavy,  and  he  would 
 have  recked  little  of  them  himself  When  he  was  once  charged  with 
 slighting  an  important  rule  of  propriety,  all  that  he  said  in  reply  was,  "  I 
 
.68  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 iim  fortunate.  If  I  have  any  errors,  people  are  sure  to  know  them."  You 
 will  not  be  sorry  to  hear  tlie  magnificent  eulogium  which  his  grandson 
 pronounced  on  the  ideal  sage  and  king,  being  understood  to  have  had 
 Confucius  in  his  mind  : — - 
 
 "Possessed  of  all  sagely  qualities,  showing  himself  quick  in  apprehen- 
 sion, clear  in  discernment,  of  far-reaching  intelligence  and  all-embracing 
 knowledge,  he  was  fitted  to  exercise  rule  ;  magnanimous,  generous,  benign, 
 and  mild,  fitted  to  exercise  forbearance ;  impulsive,  energetic,  firm,  and 
 enduring,  fitted  to  maintain  a  strong  hold  ;  self-adjusted,  grave,  never 
 swerving  from  the  Mean  and  correct,  fitted  to  command  reverence ; 
 accomplished,  distinctive,  concentrative,  and  searching,  fitted  to  exercise 
 discrimination.  Therefore  his  fame  overspreads  the  Middle  Kingdom, 
 and  extends  to  all  barbarous  tribes.  Wherever  ships  and  carriages  reach, 
 wherever  the  strength  of  man  penetrates,  wherever  the  heaven  overshadows 
 and  the  earth  sustains,  wherever  the  sun  and  moon  shine,  wherever  frosts  and 
 dews  fall,  all  who  have  blood  and  breath  unfeignedly  honour  and  love  him." 
 
 Secondly,  let  me  pass  on  now  to  consider  what  is  the  nature  of  the 
 religion  of  China — what  it  was  in  the  very  earliest  times,  and  what  it  con- 
 tinues substantially  to  be  at  the  present  day.  As  we  succeed  in  the  study 
 and  exhibition  of  this,  we  shall  discover  more  clearly  the  deep  foundation 
 of  the  moral  teaching  of  Confucius,  and  wherein  the  religion  itself  fails  to 
 supply  to  the  Chinese  people  all  that  is  necessary  for  the  nourishment  of 
 their  spiritual  being  and  the  making  of  them  what  they  ought  to  be. 
 
 There  have  been  from  time  immemorial  two  sacrificial  services  in  China  ; 
 — one  addressed  to  the  Supreme  Being,  and  the  other  to  the  spirits  of  the 
 dead.  I  call  them  sacrificial  services  in  accordance  with  the  general  usage 
 of  writers  on  the  subject ;  but  we  must  not  import  into  the  words  sacrifice 
 and  sacrificial  all  the  ideas  which  7ve  attach  to  them.  Tlie  most  common 
 term  for  sacrifice  in  Chinese  is  ts\  (^),  and  the  most  general  idea 
 symbolized  by  it  is  an  offering  whereby  communication  and  communion 
 with  spiritual  beings  are  effected.  The  offerings,  we  are  told,  and  the 
 language  employed  in  presenting  them,  were  for  the  purpose  of  prayer,  or 
 of  thanksgiving,  or  of  deprecation.  Our  meaning  of  substitution  and  pro- 
 pitiation does  not  enter  into  the  term,  excepting  in  the  sense  of  making 
 propitious  and  friendly. 
 
 I  will  speak  first  of  the  former  service. 
 
 The  earliest  name  for  the  Supreme  Being  among  the  Chinese  fathers 
 appears  to  have  been  T'ien,  or  "  Heaven."  When  the  framers  of  their 
 characters  made  one  to  denote  "Heaven"  (^),  they  fashioned  it  from 
 two  already  existing  characters,  representing  "one"  ( — )  and  "great' 
 (;/y;),  signifying  the  vast  and  bright  firmament,  overspreading  and  em- 
 bracing all,  and  from  which  came  the  light,  lieat,  and  rain  which  rendered 
 the  earth  beneath  fruitful  and  available  for  the  support  and  dwelling  of  man 
 and  all  other  living  beings  on  its  surface.  But  their  minds  did  not  rest  in 
 the  material,  or  I   might  almost  say  the  immaterial  sky.     The  name  soon 
 
COXFUC/US  AND   THE  RELIGION  OF  CHINA.  6^ 
 
 became  symbolical  to  them  of  a  Power  and  Ruler,  a  spiritual  Being, 
 whom  they  denominated  Ti  (^.),  "(lod,"  and  S/ta/ig-  T'l  ( _L^),  "  the  su- 
 preme God."  I  cannot  render  these  terms  in  English  in  any  other  way.  The 
 Chinese  dictionaries  tell  us  that  T'l  represents;the  ideas  of  lordship  and  rule. 
 
 So  it  was  that  the  name  for  the  sky  which  they  beheld  became  to  the 
 earliest  Chinese  personal  as  the  denomination  of  their  concept  of  God. 
 The  same  process  of  thought  must  have  taken  place  among  our  own  early 
 Fathers,  though  the  personal  name  has  displaced  the  material  and  sym- 
 bolical term  among  us  much  more  than  it  has  among  the  Chinese.  Tiie 
 name  Ilcarcii  for  God,  however,  hxs  not  altogether  disappeared  from  our 
 common  speecii.  Witness  such  phrases  as  "  Heaven  knows,"  "  Please 
 Heaven."  I  find  the  same  significance  in  the  words  of  Daniel  to  the 
 Babylonian  Nebuchadnezzar,  "Thou  shalt  know  that  the  Heavens  do 
 rule";  and  in  the  penitent  language  of  the  returning  prodigal,  "Father,  I 
 have  sinned  against  Heaven  and  in  thy  sight." 
 
 Tiie  worship  of  God  was  associated  with  a  worship  of  the  more  promi- 
 nent objects  of  nature,  such  as  heaven  and  earth,  the  sun  and  moon,  the 
 starry  host,  hills  and  streams,  forests  and  valleys.  It  has  been  contended 
 from  this  that  the  most  ancient  religion  of  the  Chinese  was  a  worship  of 
 the  objects  of  nature.  I  do  not  think  it  was  so,  and  1  am  supported  in 
 my  opinion  by  the  express  testimony  of  Confucius,  that  "by  the  ceremonies 
 of  the  sacrifices  to  heaven  and  earth  they  served  God."  Tliese  words  supply 
 an  instance  of  his  unfrequent  use  of  the  personal  name,  which  he  em- 
 ployed, I  suppose,  to  give  greater  emphasis  to  his  declaration.  If  it  was 
 so  in  the  worship  of  those  greatest  objects  of  nature,  much  more  must  it 
 have  been  so  in  that  of  the  inferior  objects.  Even  though  the  presidency 
 of  those  objects  may  be  ignorantly  and  supcrstitiously  assigned  to  different 
 spiritual  lieings,  the  prayers  to  them  show  that  the  worship  of  them  is  still 
 a  service  of  God.  In  a  prayer,  for  instance,  to  the  Cloud-master,  the 
 Rain-master,  the  Lord  of  the  Winds,  and  the  Thunder-master,  it  is  said, 
 "  It  is  yours,  O  Spirits,  to  superintend  the  clouds  and  the  rain,  and  to  raise 
 and  send  abroad  the  winds,  as  ministers  assisting  tlie  supreme  God."  To 
 the  spirits  of  all  the  hills  and  rivers  under  the  sky,  again,  it  is  said,  "  It  is 
 yours,  O  Spirits,  with  your  Heaven-conferred  powers  and  nurturing  influ- 
 ences, each  to  preside  over  one  district,  as  ministers  assisting  the  Great 
 Worker  and  Transformer." 
 
 Thus  then  I  may  affirm  that  the  religion  of  China  was,  and  is,  a  mono- 
 theism, disfigured  indeed  by  ignorance  and  superstition,  but  still  a  mono- 
 theism, based  on  the  belief  in  one  Supreme  Being,  of  ^Vhom,  and  through 
 \Vhom,  and  to  ^Vhom  are  all  things. 
 
 Very  soon  that  religion  became  a  State-worship,  and  in  doing  so  it  took 
 a  peculiar  form.  The  only  performer  allowed  in  it  is  "  the  One  man,"  the 
 sovereign  of  the  nation  himself.  Its  celebration,  moreover,  is  limited  to  a 
 few  occasions,  the  greatest  being  that  at  the  winter  solstice.  Then  the 
 service  is,  or  ought  to  be,  an  acknowledgment  by  the  Emperor,  for  him- 
 
70  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 self,  lii.s  line,  and  the  people,  of  their  obligations  to  God.  It  is  said  of  this 
 ceremony,  that  it  is  "  the  utmost  expression  of  reverence "  and  "  the 
 greatest  act  of  thanksgiving. '  It  may  have  degenerated  into  a  mere 
 formality,  but  there  is  the  original  idea  underlying  it.  It  grew  probably 
 from  the  earliest  patriarchal  worship,  though  there  is  no  record  of  that  in 
 Chinese  literature.  The  sovereign  stands  forth  in  it,  both  the  father  and 
 priest  of  his  people.  I  do  not  term  him  the  //^'^^/-priest,  for  there  is  no 
 other  priest  in  all  the  empire.  No  one  is  allowed  in  the  same  direct 
 manner  to  sacrifice  to  God.  There  never  has  been  in  China  a  priestly 
 class  or  caste,  and  I  cannot  consider  this  a  disadvantage.  The  restriction 
 of  the  direct,  solemn  worship  of  God  to  the  Emperor  has  been  unfortunate, 
 excluding  the  people  generally  from  that  communion  with  Him  which  is 
 the  highest  privilege  of  man  and  the  most  conducive  to  the  beauty  and 
 excellence  of  his  whole  character  :  but  better  this  even  than  a  priestly 
 class,  claiming  to  stand  between  men  and  God,  themselves  not  better  than 
 other  men,  and  in  no  respect  more  highly  gifted,  and  yet  shutting  up  the 
 way  into  the  holiest  that  is  open  to  all,  and  assuming  to  be  able  by  rites 
 and  performances  of  theirs  to  dispense  blessings  which  can  only  be  ob- 
 tained from  the  great  God  with  Whom  all  have  to  do. 
 
 Only  on  one  other  point  in  this  part  of  my  lecture  will  I  touch  :  the 
 relation  between  men  and  God  as  their  Governor  and  the  connection 
 between  the  religion  and  morality.  King  T'ang,  the  founder  of  the  Shang 
 dynasty  in  B.C.  1766,  thus  spoke: — "The  great  God  has  conferred  even 
 on  the  inferior  people  a  moral  sense,  compliance  with  which  would  show 
 their  nature  invariably  right.  To  make  them  tranquilly  pursue  the  course 
 which  it  would  indicate  is  the  work  of  the  sovereign."  Much  to  the  same 
 effect  spoke  Wi'i,  the  first  king  of  the  Chan  dynasty,  in  I3.c.  t  122  : — "He  even, 
 to  help  the  inferior  people,  made  for  them  rulers,  and  made  for  them  instruc- 
 tors, who  should  be  assisting  to  God,  so  as  to  secure  tranquillity  throughout 
 the  nation."  Thus  government  is  from  God  and  teaching  is  from  God. 
 They  are  both  divine  ordinances.  The  king  and  the  sage  are  equally 
 (iod's  ministers,  having  their  respective  functions  ;  and  they  have  no  other 
 divine  right  to  their  positions  but  that  which  arises  from  the  fulfilment  of 
 their 'duties.  'I'he  dynasty  that  does  not  rule  so  as  to  secure  the  well- 
 I)eing  of  the  people  has  forfeited  its  right  to  the  throne.  An  old  poet, 
 celebrating  the  rise  of  the  dynasty  of  which  he  was  a  scion,  thus  sang  : — 
 
 "Oh  !  great  is  God  ;  His  j^lance  on  eailli  He  bent, 
 
 Scanninj^  our  regions  witii  severe  intent 
 
 I'or  one  whose  rule  the  people  should  content. 
 "  'I'he  earlier  lines  of  kings  had  jiracliscd  ill, 
 
 And  ruling,   ruled  not  after  God's  just  will  ; 
 
 He  therefore  'mong  the  .States  was  searching  still." 
 
 So  it  was  with  the  sovereign ;  and  as  for  the  teacher,  if  he  did  not  set 
 forth  aright  the  will  of  God,  he  had  no  function  at  all. 
 
 See  the  api)lication  of  all  this  to  the  case  of  Confucius  and  the  religious 
 character  which  it  imparts  to  his  moral  teachings.      The  treatise  of  his 
 
CONFUCIUS  AND    THE  RELIGION  OF  CHINA.  ji 
 
 grandson,  to  wliich  I  have  already  alluded,  commences  with  this  sentence: 
 -"What  HEAVEN  has  conferred"  (on  man)  "is  called  his  nature  ;  an 
 accordance  with  this  nature  is  called  the  path  "  (of  duty)  ;  "  the  regula- 
 tion of  this  path  is  called  the  system  of  instruction."  Now  who  ever 
 sought  to  regulate  the  path  of  duty  by  his  instructions  as  our  sage  did  ? 
 In  doing  so,  he  tauglit  man  indeed  to  act  in  accordance  with  his  nature; 
 l)ut  accordance  with  that  nature  was  the  fulfilment  of  the  will  of  Heaven. 
 Tlie  idea  of  Heaven  or  God  as  man's  Maker  and  Governor  was  fundamental 
 to  the  teachings  of  Confucius  ;  and  on  this  account  I  contend  that  those 
 who  see  in  him  only  a  moral  teacher  do  not  understand  him.  What  he 
 said  was  with  a  divine  sanction  ;  and  they  who  neglected  and  disobeyed 
 his  lessons  were,  as  he  said,  "  oft'ending  against  Heaven,  and  had  none 
 to  whom  they  could  pray." 
 
 And  further,  the  account  which  I  have  given  of  the  State  religion  sup- 
 plies probably  the  true  reason  why  Confucius  generally  spoke  of  Heaven, 
 and  seldom  used  the  personal  name  God.  We  ought  to  find  the  expres- 
 sions of  a  devout  reverence  and  submission  in  such  utterances  as  the 
 following: — "Alas!  there  is  no  one  that  knows  me.  liut  I  do  not 
 murmur  against  Heaven,  nor  grumble  against  men.  There  is  Heaven  ! 
 That  knows  me." 
 
 But  I  hasten  on  to  speak,  next  and  finally,  of  that  other  worship — if  we 
 should  call  it  so — the  sacrifices  to  ancestors  and  to  others  not  of  the  same 
 line  as  their  worshippers. 
 
 How  this  worship  took  its  rise,  I  am  unable  to  say.  Herbert  Spencer 
 holds  that  "the  rudimentary  form  of  all  religion  is  the  propitiation  of  dead 
 ancestors  who  are  supposed  to  be  still  existing,  and  to  be  capable  of 
 working  good  or  evil  to  their  descendants."  This  view  is  open  to  the 
 criticism  which  I  made  on  the  Confucian  sacrifices  generally, —  that  our 
 idea  of  propitiation  is  not  in  them.  It  is  not  found  either  in  those  to  the 
 supreme  ]>eing  or  in  those  to  the  dead. 
 
 Of  course  sacrificing  to  the  dead  involves  a  belief  in  the  continued 
 existence  of  the  souls  or  spirits  of  men  after  their  life  on  earth  has  come 
 to  a  close,  and  also  that  they  continue  in  the  possession  of  their  higher 
 faculties,  so  as  to  be  conscious  of  the  services  rendered  to  them,  and  to 
 be  able  to  exercise  an  influence  on  the  condition  of  their  descendants  and 
 others  in  the  world. 
 
 Sacrificing  to  the  departed  great,  who  were  not  of  the  same  line  as  their 
 worshippers,  admits  of  an  easy  explanation.  It  is  a  grateful  recognition  of 
 the  services  which  they  rendered  to  their  own  times  and  for  all  time.  In 
 tlie  Record  of  Ritual  Usages  we  read,  "According  to  the  Institutes  of  the 
 Sage  Kings,  sacrifices  should  be  offered  to  him  who  had  given  laws  to  the 
 j)eople,  to  him  who  had  persevered  to  the  death  in  the  discharge  of  his 
 duties,  to  him  who  had  strengthened  the  State  by  his  laborious  toil,  to  him 
 who  had  boldly  and  successfully  met  great  calamities,  and  to  him  who  had 
 warded  off  great  evils.     Only  men  of  this  character  were  admitted  to  the 
 
72  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 sacrificial  canon."  Such  a  sacrificial  service  has  little  that  is  objectionable 
 in  it.  It  is  little  more  than  the  tribute  which  an  historian  pays  to  the 
 virtues  of  those  whom  he  commemorates  in  his  writings,  and  in  which  his 
 readers  cordially  join.  Nor  does  this  worship  interfere  with  the  mono- 
 theism of  the  Chinese  religion.  The  men  are  not  deified.  I  will  give 
 you  an  instance  in  point  from  a  hymn  which  was  employed  in  sacrificing 
 to  a  very  ancient  worthy  styled  Hdu-chi,  who  was  honoured  as  the  father 
 of- agriculture.     It  says, — 
 
 "  O  tliou  accomplished,  great  Ilau-clii, 
 To  whom  alone  "iwas  given 
 To  be  l)y  wliat  we  owe  to  thee 
 The  correlate  of  Heaven, 
 
 "  On  all  who  dwell  within  our  land 
 (irain  food  didst  thou  bestow  ; 
 'Tis  to  thy  wonder-working  hand 
 'I'his  gracious  boon  we  owe, 
 
 "CJod  had  the  wheat  and  barley  ni-jant 
 To  nourish  all  mankind  ; 
 None  would  have  fathomed   His  intent 
 But  for  thy  guiding  mind."' 
 
 Confucius  has  a  distinguished  place  in  this  sacrificial  service.  Twice  :% 
 year,  on  a  certain  day  in  the  middle  months  of  spring  and  autumn,  the 
 reigning  emperor  should  go  in  state  to  the  Imperial  College  in  Peking,  and 
 present  the  appointed  offerings  before  the  spirit  tablets  of  Confucius,  and 
 of  the  worthies  who  have  been  associated  with  him  in  his  temi)les.  The 
 first  prayer  on  the  occasion  in  the  canon  of  1826,  greeting  the  approach 
 of  the  spirit  of  the  sage,  is  to  the  following  effect: — "This  year,  in  this 
 montli,  on  this  day,  I,  the  Emperor,  offer  sacrifice  to  the  philosopher 
 K'ung,  the  ancient  teacher,  the  perfect  sage,  and  say,  O  teacher,  in  virtue 
 equal  to  Heaven  and  Earth,  whose  doctrines  embrace  the  time  past  and 
 the  present,  thou  didst  digest  and  transmit  the  six  classics,  and  didst 
 hand  down  thy  lessons  for  all  generations  !  Now  in  this  second  montli 
 of  spring  (or  autumn),  in  reverent  observance  of  the  old  statutes,  with 
 victims,  silks,  spirits,  and  fruits,  I  offer  sacrifice  to  thee.  With  thee  arc 
 associated  the  philosopher  Yen,  continuator  of  tlice,  the  philosopher 
 Tsang,  exhibitor  of  thy  fundamental  princi[)les  ;  the  philosopher  Tsze- 
 sze,  transmitter  of  thee,  and  the  philoso^jher  Mang,  the  second  to  thee, 
 may'st  thou  enjoy  the  offerings  !  " 
 
 I  used  to  think  that  Confucius  in  this  service  received  religious  worship, 
 and  denounced  it.  But  I  was  wrong.  AVhat  he  received,  was  the  homage  of 
 gratitude,  and  not  the  worship  of  adoration.  There  is  a  danger  of  such 
 homage  being  productive  of  evil,  and  leading  to  superstition  and  idolatry; 
 but  it  will  not  be  easily  eradicated  from  the  customs  of  Cliina.  We  have 
 a  remarkable  instance  of  the  bad  consequences  springing  from  it  in  the 
 exaltation  for  the  last  three  centuries  of  Kwan  Yii,  an  upright,  likable 
 warrior  of  our  third  century,  to  be  really,  so  far  as  the  title  is  concerned, 
 "  the  god  Kwan," — the  god  of  war. 
 
CONFUCIUS  AND    THE  RELIGION  OF  CHINA.  -jy 
 
 But  I  return  to  the  worship  of  ancestors.  That  is  insisted  on  in  the 
 Confucian  teaching  as  tlie  consummating  tribute  of  fih'al  piety,  the  virtue 
 which  in  China  occupies  the  first  jtlace  in  the  scale  of  human  excellences. 
 A  great  virtue  it  is  undoubtedly,  but  it  is  exaggerated  by  the  Chinese  ; 
 and  the  exaggeration  has  been  on  the  whole  perhaps  injurious  to  the 
 prosperity  and  progress  of  the  nation. 
 
 Certain  sayings  of  Confucius  have  often  been  pointed  out  as  showing 
 that  he  was  not  satisfied  in  his  own  mind  as  to  the  continued  existence  of 
 the  dead,  or  that  their  spirits  really  had  knowledge  of  the  sacrificial  ser- 
 vices rendered  to  them  ;  but  I  will  not  enter  now  on  a  discussion  of  them. 
 ^Ve  arc  not  certain  how  we  should  understand  them,  and  he  was  himself 
 strict  in  the  performance  of  the  services.  "  He  sacrificed  to  the  dead,"  we 
 are  told,  "  as  if  they  were  })resent,  and  to  the  spirits  as  if  they  were  there." 
 If  he  were  prevented  from  being  present  at  such  a  service,  and  had  to 
 employ  another  to  take  his  place,  he  considered  his  absence  to  be  equiva- 
 lent to  his  not  sacrificing. 
 
 At  the  sacrifice  small  tablets  of  wood  with  the  names  of  the  deceased  to 
 whom  they  were  dedicated  written  on  them  were  set  up,  and  called  the 
 spirit-tablets,  which  the  spirits  were  supposed  to  take  possession  of  for  the 
 time.  They  were  ordinarily  in  an  a[)artment  behind  the  sacrificial  hall, 
 and  brought  out  for  the  occasion.  They  were  returned  to  their  place 
 when  the  service  was  over,  and  the  spirits  were  supi)0sed  to  have  left  the 
 temple  for  their  place.  iJut  where  was  their  place?  Where  and  in  what 
 condition  do  the  spirits  of  the  departed  exist? 
 
 For  one  thing,  they  arc  believed  to  be  in  heaven,  and  in  the  presence 
 of  Ciod.  A  very  famous  name  in  China  was  that  of  King  Wan,  whose 
 career  led  to  his  son's  becoming  the  first  sovereign  of  the  Chau  dynasty  ; 
 and  of  him  after  his  death  it  was  sung, — 
 
 "Tlic  royal  \\";'in  now  rests  on  Iiigli, 
 In  dignity  above  tlie  sky; 
 Cluiii  as  a  ^tate  liad  loiitj  been  known; 
 Heaven's  choice  of  it  at  last  was  shown. 
 Its  lords  hatl  gained  a  famous  name  ; 
 Ciod  kinged  them  wlicn  the  season  came. 
 King  Wan-  riilcil  well  when  earth  he  trod  ; 
 Now  moves  his  spirit  near  to  God." 
 
 In  the  same  way  the  emperors  of  the  present  ManchCi  line  speak  of  their 
 departed  fathers.  The  concluding  hymn  for  the  worship  of  them  in  the 
 ancestral  temple  in  the  canon  of  1826  may  be  thus  rendered  : — 
 
 "Now  ye  confront,   now  yc  pass  by. 
 
 Unbound  by  conditions  of  place; 
 Here  ye  descend,   there  ye  ascend, 
 
 Nor  leave  of  your  movements  a  trace. 
 Still  and  deep  is  the  chamber  behind  ; 
 
 How  restful  and  blessed  its  space  ! 
 'I'heir  home  have  your  spirits  in  heaven, 
 
 The  shrines  there  their  tablets  embrace. 
 A  myriad  years  their  course  shall  run, 
 
 Nor  e'er  our  filial  thounhts  efface." 
 
74  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 For  another  thing,  the  spirits  of  the  departed  become  tutelary  guardians 
 of  their  posterity,  dispensing  blessings  on  them  if  they  pursue  the  course 
 of  well-doing,  and  punishing  them  if  they  do  wrong,  subject,  however,  in 
 both  cases  to  the  will  of  God. 
 
 Time  will  not  permit  me  to  adduce  instances  in  confirmation  of  this 
 statement,  which  could  easily  be  done  from  the  records  of  Chinese  his- 
 tory. They  are  all  cases,  however,  of  good  sovereigns  and  men,  who,  be- 
 <:ause  of  their  virtuous  course  on  earth,  attained  at  death  to  heaven  and 
 the  presence  of  God,  and  had  the  charge  there  of  watching  over  the  in- 
 terests that  had  occupied  them  and  been  dear  to  them  in  life.  But  what 
 does  the  Confucian  religion  of  China  teach  concerning  the  future  state  of 
 Ijad  sovereigns  and  bad  men  generally  ?  I  may  almost  reply  to  this  ques- 
 tion, ''Absolutely  notliing."'  Its  oracles  are  dumb  on  this  interesting  and 
 important  point.  There  is  no  purgatory  and  no  hell  in  the  Confucian 
 literature. 
 
 There  had  grown  up  even  before  the  time  of  the  Sage  a  doctrine  that 
 the  retribution  of  good  and  evil  takes  place  in  time;  and  he  himself  de- 
 rived no  little  benefit  in  his  own  career  from  it.  The  distinction  between 
 good  and  evil  is  never  obscured,  nor  the  different  issues  of  the  one  and 
 the  other.  Every  moralist  writes  as  if  he  had  been  charged,  like  Isaiah, 
 to  "  say  of  the  righteous  that  it  shall  be  well  with  him,  for  the  reward  of 
 his  hands  shall  be  given  him,  and  of  the  wicked,  ^\'oe  unto  the  wicked  ; 
 it  shall  be  ill  with  him,  for  the  reward  of  his  hands  shall  be  given  him." 
 .Similar  proclamations  resound  all  along  the  line  of  Chinese  history  ;  but 
 the  good  to  the  righteous,  and  the  ill  to  the  wicked,  are  only  the  prosperity 
 of  the  one  class  and  the  overthrow  and  ruin  of  the  other  in  their  worldly 
 estate.  The  retribution  of  both  cases  takes  place,  not  in  the  persons  of 
 the  good  or  the  bad,  but  in  those  of  their  descendants.  I  have  said  that 
 this  view  of  providence  had  arisen  in  China  before  the  time  of  Confucius, 
 There  is  a  distinct  enunciation  of  it  in  one  of  the  appendixes  to  the  IV- 
 King,  the  authorship  of  which  is  generally,  though  not,  I  think,  correctly, 
 ;iscribed  to  the  Sage  himself.  It  is  said,  "  The  family  that  accumulates 
 goodness  is  sure  to  have  superabundant  happiness ;  the  family  that  accu- 
 mulates evil  is  sure  to  have  superabundant  misery."  The  same  teaching 
 appears  in  the  second  commandment  of  our  Decalogue.  An  important 
 and  \\holesomc  truth  it  is  that  the  good-doing  and  ill-doing  of  parents  are 
 visited  on  and  in  their  children ;  but  do  the  sinning  parents  themselves 
 escape  the  curse?  It  is  in  this  form  that  the  subject  of  future  retribution 
 appears  among  the  literati  of  China,  the  professed  followers  of  Confucius, 
 at  the  present  day.  They  do  not  deny  the  continued  existence  of  the 
 spirit  after  death,  and  they  present  their  sacrifices  or  offerings  to  their 
 ancestors,  but  it  is  with  little  or  no  consideration  of  whether  their  lives 
 were  good  or  bad.     Those  offerings  have  become  unmeaning  forms. 
 
 One  of  the  most  interesting  ceremonies  conducted  at  the  capital  of 
 i  hina  is  that  in  wliich  the  emperors  ])erform  a  sacrificial  service  twice  a 
 
COXFUCIUS  AAD    THE   REUGIOX   Of    CHINA.  75 
 
 year  to  the  spirits  of  the  emperors  of  all  the  dynasties  before  their  own. 
 In  the  canon  of  1826,  the  sovereigns  sacrificed  to,  from  Fu-hsi  in  tlie 
 thirty-fourth  century  before  Christ  down  to  the  close  of  the  Ming  dynasty 
 ill  1C43,  amount  to  a  liundred  and  eighty-eight.  These  are  not  nearly  all 
 the  sovereigns  that  have  reigned  during  the  long  period  of  five  thousand 
 years  or  thereabouts.  What  names  are  admitted  and  what  are  rejected 
 depends  on  the  reigning  emperor  and  on  the  members  of  the  Board  of 
 Rites.  Shi/i  Ihvani:;  Tl  of  ("ii'in,  the  great  enemy  of  Confucianism,  does 
 not  appear,  nor  sovereigns  who  proved  the  ruin  of  their  dynasties.  Suc- 
 cess seems  to  be  the  chief  consideration  ensuring  a  place.  The  second 
 and  greatest  of  the  emperors  of  the  reigning  line  laid  it  down  as  a  rule  for 
 liis  canon-makers  that  the  character  of  the  sovereigns  whom  they  admitted 
 was  not  to  be  too  critically  examined. 
 
 Tiius  the  entire  silence  of  the  religion  of  China  with  regard  to  the  future 
 of  the  bad  is  an  unsatisfactory  feature  in  it.  The  only  evil  issue  of  an  evil 
 course  which  it  intimates,  and  that  not  very  distinctly,  is  to  be  excluded 
 from  sharing  in  the  sacrifices  to  the  dead,  the  force  of  which  as  a  motive 
 to  virtuous  conduct  I  am  unable  to  appreciate. 
 
 I  have  done,  having  fulfilled  the  task  which  I  undertook  as  well  as  I 
 am  able  at  present  to  attain  to  with  the  available  materials.  I  think  you 
 will  judge  of  Confucius  pretty  much  as  I  do.  His  appearance  well  de- 
 serves to  be  commemorated  as  an  era  in  the  history  of  his  nation ;  and 
 whatever  there  is  of  good  and  strength  in  it  is  mainly  due  to  him.  That 
 there  is  no  little  of  both  may  safely  be  inferred  from  the  long  continuance 
 of  its  national  history  and  the  growth  of  its  poinilation.  It  is  what  it  is, 
 politically,  socially,  and  morally,  through  the  teachings  of  its  Sage.  It 
 would  have  been  better  if  those  had  been  allowed  to  have  the  sole  occu- 
 pancy of  it.  liut  Taoism,  before  Confucius  and  since,  and  Buddhism 
 .since  our  first  century,  have  been  sowing  their  tares  in  it.  I  say  so  with 
 <leference  to  those  who  think  more  highly  of  those  systems  than  I  am 
 able  to  do.  And  now  in  this  later  time  our  religion,  our  commerce,  our 
 science  and  arts,  our  manners  and  customs,  have  all  found  their  way  to 
 the  empire.  Will  it  be  to  improve  and  regenerate  it,  or  to  weaken  and 
 ruin  it?  The  former  will  be  the  case  if  we  act  to  it  according  to  the 
 golden  rule  of  Confucius,  and  do  to  the  Chinese  as  we  would  have  them 
 do  to  us,  and  according  to  the  still  grander  maxim  of  I.ao-tsze,  and  over- 
 come their  evil  by  our  good.  I  look  forward  to  the  future  of  China  with 
 considerable  anxiety,  but  with  more  of  hope. 
 
TAOISM. 
 
 By  Frederic  H.  Balfour. 
 
 It  is,  as  you  are  no  doubt  aware,  a  commonplace  of  our  school  geographies 
 tliat  in  China  there  are  Three  Religions  ;  or,  to  speak  more  accurately. 
 Three  Doctrines.  In  fact,  I  do  not  think  it  can  be  said  that  China  has 
 ever  produced  a  genuine  Religion,  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  term ; 
 unless,  indeed,  we  admit  as  an  historical  fact  that  primitive  ]\Ionotheisn> 
 associated  with  the  prehistoric  and  semi-mythical  Emperors  who  are  said 
 to  have  flourished  between  one  and  two  thousand  years  before  the  birth  of 
 Confucius.  Of  that  eminent  man,  and  the  system  of  which  he  was  the 
 founder,  you  heard  last  Sunday  from  the  mouth  of  the  greatest  living  expo- 
 nent, among  Europeans,  of  Confucianism.  It  is  not,  of  course,  either  my 
 intention  or  my  province  to  trench  upon  another  man's  domain  ;  but  it  is 
 necessary  for  my  present  contention  to  record  the  opinion  which,  erroneous 
 or  well-founded,  I  very  strongly  hold,  that  Confucianism  is  less  a  religion 
 than  a  code  of  social  and  political  morality.  Buddhism,  on  the  other 
 hand,  is  a  religion,  in  a  very  important  sense ;  but  then  it  is  a  foreign 
 importation,  like  Mohammedanism  or  Christianity,  and  has  become  imbued 
 with  no  more  than  a  local  colouring  from  its  prolonged  establishment  in 
 China.  Taoism,  with  which  we  have  to  deal  to-day,  bears,  it  is  true,  many 
 of  the  outward  and  visible  signs  of  a  religious  system  ;  but  this  is  a  mark 
 of  degradation,  and  is  due  in  a  very  large  measure  to  the  contaminating 
 influences  of  its  contact  with  those  grosser  developments  of  popular  Bud- 
 dhism which  flourish  so  rankly  among  the  lower  classes  of  Chinese.  At 
 present  Taoism  is  a  base  and  abject  superstition,  a  religion  in  the  worst 
 and  lowest  sense,  a  foolish  idolatry  supported  by  an  ignorant  and  venal 
 priesthood  commanding  the  respect  of  no  single  class  in  the  community  ;  a 
 system  of  unreasoning  credulity  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  hocus-pocus  and 
 imijosture  on  the  other.  This  is  not  the  Taoism  of  which  I  am  going  to 
 speak  to  you  to-day.  It  has  its  students  among  European  scholars,  but  I 
 confess  that  the  subject  has  little  or  no  interest  for  me.  What  I  am  going 
 to  tell  you  of  is  not  Taoism  the  degenerate  and  idolatrous  mythology  which 
 exists  at  present,  but  Taoism  the  pure  and  lofty  philosophy  which  arose 
 two  thousand  years  ago,  when  a  wave  of  inspiration  seems  to  have  swept 
 over  the  entire  civilized  world,  bringing  with  it  that  restlessness  and  vague 
 though  earnest  expectation  of  something  better  yet  to  come,  some  epoch- 
 making  discovery  or  revelation  of  which  the  previous  agitation  was  a  har- 
 binger,   that    is    ever   present    in    periods  marked    by   great    intellectual 
 
 upheavals,  and  when  schools  of  learning  were  in  process  of  establishment 
 
 76 
 
TAOISM.  jy 
 
 under  Socrates,  Plato,  and  Aristotle,  destined  to  exert  an  influence  ui)on 
 llie  world,  not  for  that  age  merely,  but  for  all  time.  The  great  movement 
 which  took  place  in  Europe  five  hundred  years  before  Christ  was  accom- 
 panied by  a  corresponding  movement,  almost  as  great,  almost  as  far- 
 reaching,  in  a  country  whose  very  existence  was  a  dream  to  the  scholars  of 
 Greece  and  Rome  ;  and  foremost  in  time,  if  not  in  speculative  and  meta- 
 physical power,  among  the  leaders  of  thought  in  China,  was  the  old 
 rhilosoi)her  who,  wearying  of  ofiicial  cares,  devoted  the  best  portion  of 
 his  life  to  the  study  of  abstract  ideas,  and  became  the  acknowledged 
 founder  of  ^laoism,  or  the  doctrine  of  the  Tao. 
 
 Now,  in  order  to  find  out  what  Taoism  really  is,  we  must  devote  our 
 attention  to  the  word,  or  character,  "Tao"  itself.  This  is  composed  of 
 two  parts,  meaning  respectively  "  head  "  and  "  to  go."  I  do  not  think  that 
 this  analysis  will  help  us  very  far.  As  regards  its  meaning,  we  find  that  it 
 is  susceptible  of  several  translations,  according  to  the  context  and  the 
 sense  in  which  the  word  is  used.  Primarily  it  means  a  Road  or  Way.  It 
 is  also  employed  in  composition  as  the  verb  "to  speak."  Thirdly,  it 
 signifies  Principle  or  Doctrine,  The  trifling  fact  that  it  is  susceptible  of  at 
 least  half-a-dozen  other  meanings,  none  of  which  are  cognate  to  the 
 present  incjuiry,  need  not  delay  us  here.  It  is  used  in  the  Classics  in  the 
 sense  of  the  Right  Path  in  which  one  ought  to  go,  while  many  European 
 scholars  have  boldly  translated  it  Reason,  thereby  identifying  it  with  the 
 Platonic  Logos.  A\'hat  is  the  truth  about  the  matter,  and  how  shall  we  be 
 best  able  to  find  it  out? 
 
 Well,  the  position  we  take  up  is  a  very  simple  one.  To  put  it  algebraic- 
 iilly,  Tao  is  the  .v,  or  unknown  (juantitj',  that  we  have  to  find.  And  the 
 first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  see  what  is  predicated  of  this  mysterious  Thing  ; 
 how  it  is  described  ;  with  what  attributes  it  is  credited  ;  where  it  is  to  be 
 found  ;  whence  it  sprang,  how  it  exists,  and  what  its  functions  are.  Then 
 we  may  find  ourselves  in  a  position  to  discover  what  it  is  that  answers  to 
 these  particulars,  and  profixnely  to  give  a  name  to  that  which  its  preachers 
 ihemselves  declared  must  be  for  ever  nameless. 
 
 We  are  told  that  it  has  existed  from  all  eternity.  Chuang-tzti,  the  ablest 
 uriter  of  the  Taoist  school,  says  that  there  never  was  a  time  when  it  was 
 not.  Lao-tzu,  the  reputed  founder  of  Taoism,  aftlrms  that  the  image  of  it 
 existed  before  God  Himself.  It  is  all  pervasive  ;  there  is  no  place  where 
 it  is  not  found.  It  fills  the  Universe  with  its  grandeur  and  sublimity  ;  yet 
 it  is  so  subtle  that  it  exists  in  all  its  plenitude  in  the  tip  of  a  thread  of 
 .gossamer.  It  causes  the  sun  and  moon  to  revolve  in  their  appointed 
 •orbits,  and  gives  life  to  the  most  microscopic  insect.  Formless,  it  is  the 
 source  of  every  form  we  see  ;  inaudible,  it  is  the  source  of  every  sound 
 we  hear  ;  invisible,  it  is  that  which  lies  behind  every  external  object  in 
 the  world ;  inactive,  it  yet  produces,  sustains,  and  vivifies  every  phe- 
 nomenon which  exists  in  all  the  spheres  of  being.  It  is  impartial, 
 impersonal,  and  passionless ;  working  out  its  ends  with  the  remorselessness 
 
78  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  Fate,  yet  abounding  in  beneficence  to  all.  "  What  is  Tao  ? "  asks 
 Huai-nan-tzu,  another  eminent  writer  on  the  Taoist  philosophy.  "  It  is 
 that  which  supports  heaven  and  covers  the  earth ;  it  has  no  boundaries,  no 
 limits  ;  its  heights  cannot  be  measured,  nor  its  depths  fathomed  ;  it  enfolds 
 the  entire  universe  in  its  embrace,  and  confers  visibility  upon  that  which  of 
 itself  is  formless.  .  .  .  It  is  so  tenuous  and  subtle  that  it  pervades 
 everything  just  as  water  pervades  mire.  It  is  by  Tao  that  mountains  are 
 high  and  abysses  deep  ;  that  beasts  walk  and  birds  fly;  that  the  sun  and 
 moon  are  bright,  and  the  stars  revolve  in  their  courses.  ,  .  .  When 
 the  spring  winds  blow,  the  sweet  rain  falls,  and  all  things  live  and  grow. 
 The  feathered  ones  brood  and  hatch,  the  furry  ones  breed  and  bear ; 
 plants  and  trees  put  forth  all  their  glorious  exuberance  of  foliage,  birds  lay 
 eggs,  and  animals  produce  their  young ;  no  action  is  visible  outwardly, 
 and  yet  the  work  is  completed.  Shadowy  and  indistinct,  it  has  no  form. 
 Indistinct  and  shadowy,  its  resources  have  no  end.  Hidden  and  obscure, 
 it  reinforces  all  things  out  of  formlessness.  Penetrating  and  permeating 
 everything,  it  never  acts  in  vain." 
 
 Such  are  a  few  of  the  attributes  ascribed  to  the  nameless  Principle  we 
 are  considering.  What  ideas  do  they  suggest  to  our  mind?  Such,  I 
 believe,  as  can  scarcely  be  expressed  in  any  single  word.  Lao-tzu  and  his 
 followers  recognised  the  fact  that  for  this  mysterious  entity  there  can  be  no 
 name,  and  so,  as  Lao-tzu  himself  says,  they  were  forced  to  speak  of  it 
 simply  as  Tao.  We  in  the  West  have  practically  arrived  at  the  same  con- 
 clusion. What  is  it  that  makes  flowers  grow  up  and  water  flow  down, 
 Avhich  causes  the  showers  to  fall  and  the  sun  to  shine,  which  guides  the 
 stars  in  their  flaming  courses,  regulates  the  seasons,  endows  the  butterfly 
 with  its  radiant  hues,  makes  heat  expand  and  cold  contract,  gives  one  man 
 black  hair  and  another  red,  and,  in  a  word,  is  the  cause  of  every  phe- 
 nomenon around  us,  the  mainspring  of  the  huge  machine  of  which  we  form 
 a  part  ?  We,  too,  have  failed  to  find  a  name  for  it,  and  so  we  call  it 
 Nature.  Translate  Tao,  as  used  in  this  sense,  by  our  common  word 
 Nature — or,  if  you  prefer  it,  Principle,  Course,  or  AVay  of  Nature — and  I 
 think  wc  shall  have  discovered  the  key  to  Taoism;  using  the  Avord,  of 
 course,  not  as  applied  poetically  to  the  visible  Universe,  the  natura  xatii- 
 raia,  but  in  the  sense  of  natura  naturans,  the  abstract  Cause,  the  initial 
 Principle  of  life  and  order,  the  hypostatic  quiddity  which  underlies  all 
 phenomena,  and  of  which  they  are  a  manifestation  only. 
 
 I'ao,  then,  is  Nature  ;  Taoism  is  the  philosophy  of  Nature;  and  Taoisls 
 are  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word  Naturalistic  philosophers.  Let  u.s 
 proceed  now  to  consider  the  developments  and  adaptations  of  the  great 
 Naturalistic  theory,  in  its  relation  to  speculative  cosmogony,  in  the  first 
 place,  and  afterwards  to  the  more  practical  details  of  social  and  political  life. 
 
 The  Taoists  have  a  good  deal  to  tell  us  about  the  I-'-volution  of  the 
 visible  Universe.  "There  was  a  time,"  says  Chuang-tzii,  "  when  all  things 
 had   a  beginning.     'J'hc  time  when   there  was  yet  no   beginning  had  a 
 
TAOISM.  79 
 
 beginning  itself.  'I'here  was  a  beginning  to  the  time  when  the  time  that 
 had  no  beginning  had  not  begun.  Tlu.re  is  existence,  and  there  is  also 
 non-existence.  In  the  time  which  had  no  beginning  there  existed  Nothing 
 — or  a  Vacuum.  When  the  time  which  had  no  beginning  had  not  yet 
 begun,  then  there  also  existed  Nothing.  Suddenly,  there  was  Nothing  ; 
 but  it  cannot  be  known,  respecting  existence  and  non-existence,  what  was 
 certainly  existing  and  what  was  not." 
 
 Now  I  dare  say  that  that  sounds  to  you  so  much  empty  nonsense.  lUit 
 I  will  ask  you  to  compare  it  with  the  following  utterance  of  no  less  a 
 writer  than  the  late  lamented  Mr.  Proctor,  who  traverses  the  same  ground 
 as  this  old  Chinese  philosopher  of  two  thousand  years  ago,  though  he 
 speaks  in  rather  clearer  language  : — 
 
 "Those,"  he  says,  "  who  can,  may  find  relief  in  believing  in  absolutely 
 void  space  and  absolutely  unoccupied  time  before  some  very  remote,  but 
 not  infinitely  remote  epoch,  which  may  in  such  belief  be  called  the  begin- 
 ning of  all  things  ;  but  the  void  time  before  ///(//  beginning  can  have  had 
 no  beginning,  unless  it  were  preceded  by  time  not  unoccupied  by  events, 
 which  is  inconsistent  with  the  supposition.  We  find  no  absolute  beginning 
 if  we  look  backwards." 
 
 In  the  first  chapter  of  the  works  of  Lieh-tzu,  another  very  prominent 
 writer  of  this  school,  we  find  a  more  definite  speculation  about  the  origin 
 of  life  and  motion,  conveyed  in  very  striking  terms  :  — 
 
 "  I'licic  is  :i  Life  tliat  is  uiicrcnicd  ; 
 'riicrc  is  a  Transformer  wlio  is  chnngeless, 
 Tlic  L'ncreated  alone  can  piiHluce  life  ; 
 Tlie  I'iiangeless  alone  can  evolve  change. 
 That  Life  cannot  hut  produce  ; 
 'Dial  Transformer  cannot  Init  transform. 
 \Vlieref<jrc  creations  ami  liansfonnalions  arc  perpetual, 
 
 .And  tlic^e  perpetual  creations  and  transformations  continue  through  all  tim?. 
 They  are  seen  in  the  .Male  and  Female  Principles  of  Nature, 
 'I'heyare  displayed  in  the  Four  .Seasons. 
 The  Uncreated  stands,  as  it  were,  alone; 
 The  Changeless  comes  and  goes  ; 
 His  duration  can  have  no  end, 
 Peerless  and  One — llis  ways  are  past  finding  out." 
 
 In  the  same  book  we  have  a  very  interesting  discussion,  between  an 
 Emperor  and  his  Minister,  about  the  extent  and  eternity  of  matter.  The 
 Emperor  begins  by  asking  whether  matter  existed  from  the  beginning  of 
 all  things  ;  and  the  Minister  replies  by  asking  how,  if  it  did  not,  it  came 
 to  exist  at  present,  and  whether  their  descendants  would  be  justified  in 
 denying  that  matter  existed  in  his  Majesty's  own  day.  The  Emperor 
 naturally  enough  rejoins  that,  by  this  argument,  matter  must  have  existed 
 from  all  eternity—a  remark  that  his  Minister  parries  by  saying  that  no 
 records  remain  of  the  time  before  matter  existed,  and  that  all  such  know- 
 ledge is  beyond  the  scope  of  humanity.  To  the  question  of  the  Emperor 
 whether  there  is  any  limit  to  the  expanse  of  the  Universe,  the  Minister 
 replies  by  avowing  his  entire  ignorance  ;  and  when  the  Emperor  presses 
 
So  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OE   THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  matter  home  by  urging  that  "where  nothing  exists,  that  is  tlie  Infinite, 
 but  where  there  is  existence  there  must  be  finality,"  the  Minister  says 
 plainly  that  nobody  knows  anything  about  the  Infinite.  But  we  know  this 
 much  :  Heaven  and  Earth  are  simply  contained  in  the  great  whole  of  the 
 infinite  Universe;  and  how  can  we  tell  whether  there  may  not  be  an 
 Unseen  Universe,  above  and  beyond  that  smaller  Cosmos  that  is  within 
 the  range  of  our  perception  ? 
 
 At  this  point  it  may  be  useful  to  deal  very  briefly  with  a  question  which 
 has,  no  doubt,  occurred  to  many  of  you  already,  namely,  Does  the  Taoist 
 system  include  a  Personal  Creator  and  Moral  Governor  of  the  Universe  ? 
 Well,  the  question  is  one  more  easily  asked  than  answered.  It  is  true 
 that  there  are  frequent  references  in  the  Taoist  Classics  to  some  Being, 
 Influence,  or  Power,  who  is  spoken  of  as  the  Creator.  There  are  also 
 passages,  here  and  there,  in  which  tlie  word  "  Ti,"  or  God,  occurs.  But 
 such  allusions  are  very  obscure,  very  vague,  very  indefinite  ;  while  the 
 term  which  is  generally  used  for  the  verb  "  to  create "  implies  less 
 creation,  as  we  understand  it,  than  transformation  or  metamorphosis. 
 Nor  is  there,  as  far  as  my  own  researches  teach  me,  any  definite  statement 
 as  to  the  relations  existing  between  this  very  shadowy  Creator  and  the 
 Tao.  Some  persons  have  hazarded  the  theory  that  Tao  and  the  Taoist 
 Creator  are  identical;  that  the  Tao,  in  point  of  fact,  is  God.  But  this 
 will  not  hold  water.  Tao  is  impersonal  and  passionless,  and,  in  one 
 sentence  of  what  we  may  call  the  'J'aoist  Bible,  is  spoken  of  in  direct 
 antithesis  to  God.  Then,  again,  the  workings  of  Tao  explain  everything, 
 so  that  there  is  neither  the  room  nor  the  necessity  for  a  Personal  Creator. 
 In  fact,  the  Taoist  theory  of  Creation  appears  to  me  to  foreshadow  in 
 a  very  remarkable  manner  the  latest  conclusions  arrived  at  by  scientific 
 men  in  the  present  day.  The  nebulous  haze  which  Professor  Tyndall 
 regards  as  the  source  of  all  material  things,  had  a  place  in  the  philosophy 
 of  the  ancient  Taoists,  who  spoke  of  the  primordial  aura  that  eventually 
 underwent  condensation  and  concretion,  and  finally  emerged  in  the  form 
 of  solid  matter,  with  definite  and  various  shapes.  Evolution  lay  at  the 
 root  of  Taoist  cosmical  science,  and  we  find  passages  in  Haeckel's  History 
 fif  Creation  which  might  have  been  written,  word  for  word,  by  any  of  the 
 Taoist  authors,  passages  which  I  would  read  to  you  did  the  time  at  my 
 disposal  permit.  The  Taoist  theory,  however,  cannot  be  more  al)ly  or 
 concisely  summed  up  than  in  the  word.s  of  Lucretius  :  "  Nature  is  seen  to 
 <lo  everything  of  herself  spontaneously,  without  the  meddling  of  the  gods." 
 
 Now,  according  to  the  Taoist  theory,  man  is  to  be  regarded  as  simply 
 a  part  of  the  Universe,  an  offshoot  of  creation,  a  manifestation,  like  every- 
 thing else,  of  the  universal  and  inherent  Tao.  And  this,  be  it  remarked, 
 is  not  a  scientific  or  speculative  opinion  merely.  It  is  a  powerful  moral 
 factor,  inducing  a  resignation  to  destiny  and  a  submission  to  the  laws 
 of  Nature  which  deserve  our  respectful  attention.  Listen,  for  instance, 
 to  the  following  utterances  on   the  subject  of  Death.     To  the  'J'aoist, 
 
TAOISM.  8 1 
 
 Death  was  no  King  of  Terrors,  but  rather  an  inevitable  and  welcome 
 change,  a  turn  in  the  wheel  of  the  Universe,  an  event  as  natural  as  the 
 fading  of  an  autumn  leaf  or  the  succession  of  the  Four  Seasons.  "  Poverty," 
 says  Lieh-tzu,  "is  the  common  lot  of  scholars,  and  death  is  the  end  of  us 
 all.  What  cause  for  sorrow  is  there,  then,  in  quietly  fulfilling  one's  destiny 
 and  awaiting  the  close  of  life  ?  "  "  Death,"  he  says,  in  another  place, 
 "  is  to  life  as  going  away  is  to  coming.  How  can  we  know  that  to  die 
 here  is  not  to  be  born  elsewhere  ?  How  can  we  tell  whether,  in  their 
 eager  rush  for  life,  men  are  not  under  a  delusion  ?  How  can  I  tell 
 whether,  if  I  die  to-day,  my  lot  may  not  prove  far  preferable  to  what 
 it  was  when  I  was  originally  born  .?  "  "Ah!  men  know  the  dreadfulness 
 of  death  ;  but  they  do  not  know  its  rest."  "  How  excellent  is  it,  that 
 from  all  auticjuity  Death  has  been  the  common  lot  of  men  !  It  is  repose 
 for  the  good  man,  and  a  hiding-away  of  the  bad.  Death  is  just  a  going 
 home  again.  The  dead  are  those  who  have  gone  home,  v.-hile  we,  who 
 are  living,  are  still  wanderers." 
 
 So  far,  I  think  you  will  agree  with  me  that  the  teachings  of  Taoism  are 
 not  devoid  of  much  spiritual  force  and  beauty.  What,  however,  do  they 
 mainly  inculcate  in  practical,  everyday  life?  Spontaneity,  simplicity, 
 purity,  gentleness,  and,  in  a  word,  goodness. 
 
 Let  me  explain  what  I  mean  by  spontaneity.  The  original  constitution 
 of  every  man  being  the  direct  gift  of  Nature — or  rather,  an  actual  part 
 of  Nature  itself — it  follows  that  it  should  be  jealously  preserved  intact, 
 in  all  its  pristine  purity.  'I'his  is  the  grand  and  primary  object  of  the 
 true  Taoist — the  preservation  of  his  Heaven-implanted  Nature.  And  how 
 is  this  to  be  accomplished  ?  IJy  imitating  the  great  Mother.  Nature  is 
 spontaneous  in  all  her  works  ;  therefore  the  Sage  should  be  spontaneous 
 too,  not  acting  from  design,  but  following  the  natural  promptings  of  his 
 heart  in  accord  with  his  surroundings.  Nature  never  strives;  therefore 
 the  Sage  should  guard  against  striving  too.  Nature  is  ever  passive  ; 
 therefore  the  Sage  should  let  things  take  their  course,  and  be  content 
 with  following  in  their  wake.  Ambition,  scheming,  passion,  desire — any 
 attention  to  external  objects  of  whatever  kind — are  all  so  much  disorder- 
 ing, or  spoliation,  of  the  original  nature  of  man,  and  as  such  should  be 
 utterly  discarded.  Even  the  active  cultivation  of  virtues,  such  as  benevo- 
 lence, rectitude,  and  propriety,  is  condemned  ;  Nature  requires  no  effort 
 to  stimulate  her  growth,  and  all  the  Sage  has  to  do  is  to  bring  himself  into 
 perfect  conformity  with  her.  All  such  passions,  accomplishments,  and 
 attributes,  being  phases  of  disturbance  or  strife,  are  called,  in  Taoist 
 phrase,  the  Human  nature  of  man,  in  contradistinction  to  that  Heavenly 
 or  Inherent  nature  with  which  he  is  endowed.  "Wherefore,"  says 
 Chuang-t7A"i,  "  do  not  develop  this  artificial,  human,  or  engrafted  nature  ; 
 but  do  develop  that  Inherent  or  Natural  nature  which  is  the  inheritance 
 of  you  all."  Huai-nan-tzi:i,  to  whom  I  have  already  referred,  brings  out 
 this  point  with  admirable  lucidity.     "What  is  it,"  he  asks,  "  that  we  mean 
 
 vol..  I.  ^' 
 
83  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 when  we  talk  about  the  Natural  or  Inlierent  ?  It  is  that  which  is  homo- 
 geneous, pure,  simple,  undefiled,  ungarnished,  upright,  luminous,  anil 
 immaculate,  and  which  has  never  undergone  any  mixture  or  adulteration 
 from  the  beginning.  And  what  is  the  Human  or  Artificial  ?  It  is  that 
 which  has  been  adulterated  with  shrewdness,  crookedness,  dexterity, 
 hypocrisy,  and  deceit ;  which  bends  itself  into  compliance  with  the  world, 
 and  defers  to  the  customs  of  the  age.  For  instance  :  the  ox  has  horns 
 and  a  divided  hoof,  while  the  horse  has  a  dishevelled  mane  and  a  com- 
 plete hoof;  this  is  tlie  Heavenl}',  or  Natural.  But  if  you  put  a  bit  into 
 the  horse's  mouth,  and  pierce  tlie  nose  of  the  ox,  this  is  the  Human,  or 
 artificial."  In  other  words,  all  attempts  to  improve  upon,  or  interfere 
 with,  things  as  they  are  in  their  natural  state,  are  violations  of  Nature, 
 and  to  be  condemned  accordingly.  Nor  is  this  theory  difficult  of  appli- 
 cation to  many  institutions  in  our  own  day.  We  may  be  sure  that  if  any 
 of  these  old  Taoists  were  to  appear  among  us  now,  they  would  tell  us 
 boldly,  "  If  Nature  has  given  you  black  hair,  don't  try  to  d)e  it  yellow; 
 if  you  have  a  sallow  or  a  pale  complexion,  don't  daub  it  with  pink  paint  ; 
 if  your  waist  measures  five-and-twenty  inches  round,  don't  try  and  squeeze 
 it  into  eighteen.  All  such  attempts  are  violations  of  Nature,  and  are  sure 
 to  bring  their  own  punishment  along  with  them."- 
 
 But  to  bring  himself  into  conformity  with  Nature,  it  is  imperative  that 
 the  Sage  should  be  always  and  completely  passive.  This  is  expressed  by 
 a  Chinese  formula  which  may  be  variously  rendered  "not-doing,"  "non- 
 exertion,"  "inertia,"  "  absolute  inaction,"  or,  perhaps  best  of  all,  "  masterly 
 inactivity."  In  addition  to  the  idea  of  undisturbed  quiescence  it  embraces 
 also  that  of  spontaneity  and  designlessness  ;  so  that  even  the  rigid  adher- 
 ence to  an  inactive  policy  is  robbed  of  its  virtue  if  it  be  adopted  with 
 intent.  The  very  effort  to  obtain  possession  of  Nature,  says  Chuang-tzu, 
 defeats  itself,  and  for  the  simple  reason  that  it  is  an  effort.  A  man  must 
 be  passionless  as  well  as  motionless  ;  he  must  be  content  to  leave  himself 
 to  the  influences  which  surround  him,  and  discard  all  idea  of  helping  on 
 the  work ;  he  must  banish  all  desire  from  his  heart ;  he  must  concert  no 
 schemes  and  form  no  plans  ;  he  must  never  anticipate  emergencies,  but 
 simply  mould  himself  according  to  any  circumstances  that  may  arise. 
 And  especially  is  this  of  importance  in  the  world  of  politics.  Here  the 
 formula  I  have  referred  to  must  be  rendered  "  non-interference,"  that  wise 
 and  far-sighted  policy  the  world  is  so  slow  to  learn.  The  Taoist  condemns 
 over-legislation,  and  justly  points  to  the  peddling,  meddling  system  of  a 
 so-called  paternal  government  as  the  cause  of  anarchy  and  ruin.  Teave 
 the  people  alone,  is  the  wise  maxim  of  Taoism  ;  don't  harass  them  with 
 perpetual  interference,  and  vexatious  efforts  at  protection.  Let  things 
 take  their  course  and  find  their  level ;  let  the  people  develop  their 
 resources  in  a  natural  and  spontaneous  way.  Charles  Kingsley  and 
 Herbert  Spencer  are  here  anticipated  by  a  couple  of  thousand  years. 
 Never  do  anything,  says  the  Taoist  politician,  for  the  mere  sake  of  doing 
 
TAOISM.  83 
 
 it ;  never  do  anyiiiing  that  is  not  absolutely  necessary ;  never  forget  that 
 the  great  end  of  legislation  is  to  render  legislation  itself  superfluous.  Let 
 Nature  work  unimpeded  in  social  and  political  life  as  well  as  in  the  sphere 
 of  physics  or  of  morals  ;  then  your  subjects  will  be  contented  with  their 
 lot,  and  your  kingdom  free  from  conspiracies,  dissensions,  and  disaster. 
 Above  all,  do  nothing  to  disturb  their  primitive  simplicity.  Do  not  seek 
 to  replace  their  rough  instruments  of  labour  by  complicated  machines. 
 Such  refinements  lead  to  luxury,  to  scheming,  to  ambition,  and  to  discon- 
 tent. The  very  exercise  of  ingenuity  displayed  in  the  production  of 
 labour-saving  and  delicate  apparatus  implies  a  scheming  mind.  There- 
 fore discourage  artificial  innovations.  The  secret  of  happiness  is  to  be 
 found  in  (iuiescence,  simplicity,  and  content ;  and  the  only  way  to  attain 
 these  is  to  bring  body,  passions,  intellect,  and  will  into  absolute  con- 
 formity with  Nature. 
 
 It  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if  such  teachings  as  these  had  not  borne 
 fruit  in  inducing  many  persons  to  retire  altogether  from  the  world  and 
 embrace  a  life  of  seclusion.  In  fact,  the  list  of  Taoist  hermits  is  a  pretty 
 long  one,  and  many  were  those  who,  retiring  to  some  mountain  cave, 
 and  devoting  themselves  to  abstract  contemplation,  received  urgent 
 appeals  from  kings  and  princes  to  come  and  assist  them  with  their  wisdom 
 in  tlie  task  of  government,  only  to  reject  the  petition.  '^I'hey  generally 
 chose  for  their  retreat  some  rocky  glen  shut  in  by  mountains,  sheltered 
 from  the  burning  sun  by  the  thick  foliage  of  trees,  and  surrounded  by 
 every  natural  feature  whicii  makes  a  landscape  lovely.  There  they  passed 
 their  lives  in  that  mental  abstraction  and  freedom  from  interest  in  mun- 
 dane affairs  which  is  the  nearest  approach  to  tlie  summit  of  bliss  and 
 virtue.  Their  idea  of  happiness  was,  after  all,  a  very  pure  one.  Perfect 
 indifference  to  love  and  hate;  the  annihilation  of  all  passions,  desires,  and 
 even  preferences  ;  no  striving,  or  wishing  to  strive  ;  nothing  but  profound 
 apathy  and  absolute  insensibility  to  those  things  which,  painful  or  pleasur- 
 able, wear  out  the  lives  of  men  :  such  is  the  Taoist  Ideal.  It  is  a  return 
 to  the  pure,  original,  self-existent  nature  of  man,  which  has  been  despoiled 
 and  injured  by  contact  with  worldly  matters.  And  there  are  a  few  of 
 these  Taoists  yet  to  be  found,  here  and  there— men  who  are  almost 
 entirely  uncontaminated  by  the  follies  and  impostures  of  modern  popular 
 Taoism,  and  who  may  be  said  to  represent  the  true  Apostolic  Succession 
 in  the  Taoist  Church.  In  certain  instances,  some  old  worthies,  who  have 
 been  dead  and  gone  for  centuries,  are  believed  by  the  simple  mountaineers 
 of  China  to  be  still  alive.  Far  away  in  the  mountain  range  which  stretches 
 from  Peking  across  the  provinces  of  Chih-li  and  Shan-tung,  there  is  one 
 very  sacred  peak  called  the  Mount  of  a  Hundred  Flowers.  It  is  covered 
 with  wild  flowers,  and  its  bosky  dells  are  said,  and  with  some  truth,  to  be 
 the  lurking-places  of  wolves  and  panthers.  There,  according  to  the 
 legend,  live,  partly  embedded  in  the  soil,  certain  ancient  Taoist  hermits. 
 By  a  long  course  of  absolute  conformity  with   Nature  they  have  attained 
 
84  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 to  immortality,  and  are  now  in  the  enjoyment  of  unearthly  bliss.  To  use 
 a  Taoist  phrase,  their  faces  are  washed  by  the  rains  of  heaven,  and  their 
 hair  combed  by  the  wind.  Their  arms  are  crossed  upon  their  breasts,  and 
 their  nails  have  grown  so  long  that  they  curl  round  their  necks.  Flowers 
 and  grass  have  taken  root  in  their  bodies  and  flourish  luxuriantly ;  when 
 a  man  approaches  them,  they  turn  their  eyes  upon  him,  but  do  not  speak. 
 Some  of  them  are  over  three  hundred  years  old ;  some,  not  much  over 
 a  century  ;  but  all  have  attained  to  immortality,  and  some  day  they  will 
 find  that  their  bodies,  which  have  been  so  long  in  wearing  out,  will 
 collapse  from  sheer  withdrawal  of  vitality,  and  their  spirits  be  set  free. 
 All  this  is  fanciful  and  fabulous  enough  ;  and  when  I  ascended  this 
 mysterious  mountain'a  few  years  ago  I  certainly  did  not  come  across  any 
 of  these  very  interesting  old  persons.  But  it  is  undeniable  that  that  in- 
 difference or  aversion  to  vulgar  objects  of  desire  that  characterizes  the  true 
 Taoist  has  laid  China  under  many  a  debt  of  gratitude.  The  votary  of  the 
 Naturalistic  philosophy  does  not  always  become  a  hermit  any  more  than 
 a  Christian  always  becomes  a  clergyman.  He  is  often  in  the  world,  and 
 occuj)ies  high  offices  of  State.  But  circumstances  make  no  difference  in 
 his  character.  He  is  always  the  same,  while  living  in  a  mean  and  dirty 
 lane  and  drinking  from  a  gourd,  as  he  is  in  tlie  palace  itself,  the  trusted 
 Minister  of  a  monarch.  In  this  position  he  retains  the  same  incorrupti- 
 bility, the  same  indifference  to  power,  that  he  has  when  living  in  obscurity. 
 China  has  had  many  such  Ministers,  and  she  is  rightly  proud  of  them. 
 Emperors  and  princes  are  said  to  have  gone  in  person  to  solicit  the 
 services  of  some  stern  recluse  whose  fame  had  reached  their  ears,  and  to 
 have  been  unsuccessful  in  their  suit.  The  delineation  of  such  characters 
 forms  a  bright  page  in  many  a  volume  of  dusty  Chinese  lore,  and  they 
 are  now  held  up  to  the  reverence  and  imitation  of  the  statesmen  of 
 to-day. 
 
 I  now  wish  to  give  you  some  idea  of  the  moral  teachings  of  Taoism, 
 as  exemplified  in  the  classical  and  popular  works  of  Taoist  authors.  And 
 the  first  extract  I  have  to  place  before  you,  from  the  book  of  Lao-tzu 
 himself,  is  an  aphorism  which,  I  am  sure  you  will  agree  with  me,  is  on  a 
 level  with  the  highest  teachings  of  Christianity.  It  is  short,  and  to  the 
 point:  "  Recompense  injury  with  kindness."  We  say,  "  Return  good  for 
 evil."  And  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  when  this  sublime  doctrine  was 
 submitted  to  the  judgment  of  Confucius  he  at  once  condemned  it.  *'  With 
 what,  then,  will  you  recompense  kindness?"  he  replied.  "Recompense 
 kindness  with  kindness,  but  injury  with  justice."  Confucius,  excellent 
 man  as  he  was,  was  too  narrow  and  formal  in  his  views  to  rise  to  the 
 lieight  of  the  Taoist  Sage.  "  Tao,"  says  Lao-tzu  elsewhere,  "  is  the  jewel 
 of  the  good  man,  the  guardian  of  the  bad."  "He  who  knows  others  is 
 wise  ;  he  who  knows  himself  is  enlightened.  He  who  overcomes  others 
 is  strong;  he  who  overcomes  himself  is  mighty.  He  who  knows  when  he 
 has  enough  is  rich.     He  whose  memory  perishes  not  when  he  dies  lives 
 
TAOISM.  85 
 
 Ujx  over."  "  There  is  no  sin  greater  than  giving  rein  to  desire  ;  there  is 
 no  misery  greater  than  discontent ;  there  is  no  calamity  more  direful  than 
 the  greed  of  gain.  Tiierefore  the  sufficiency  of  contentment  is  an  ever- 
 lasting sufficiency."  "  There  are  three  things  which  I  regard  as  precious, 
 which  I  grasp  and  prize.  The  first  is  Compassion;  the  second  is  Modera- 
 tion ;  the  third  is  Modesty."  "The  weakest  things  in  this  world  subjugate 
 the  strongest."  "  There  is  nothing  under  Heaven  weaker  or  softer  than 
 water ;  yet  it  overcomes  the  hardest  and  strongest  things."  "  The  highest 
 form  of  goodness  resembles  water,  whicli  is  beneficial  to  everything,  and 
 that  without  struggling."  "  When  there  are  many  prohibitive  enactments 
 in  the  Empire,  the  people  get  poorer  and  poorer.  ^Vhen  the  people 
 accumulate  excess  of  wealth  and  goods,  both  State  and  families  become 
 <lenioralized.  When  men  are  over-skilful,  the  use  of  fantastical  or  curious 
 things  arises.  When  punishments  are  overdone,  malefactors  increase  in 
 number.  AVherefore  the  Sage  says,  I  ilo  nothing,  and  the  people  reform 
 of  their  own  accord ;  I  love  (juietude,  and  the  peoi)le  become  spon- 
 taneously upright  ;  I  take  no  measures,  and  the  people  enrich  themselves  ; 
 I  have  no  desires,  and  the  people  naturally  become  simple."  "  The 
 Sage  dwells  in  the  world  with  a  timid  reserve ;  but  his  mind  blends  in 
 sympathy  with  all.  The  people  turn  their  eyes  and  ears  up  to  him,  and 
 the  Sage  thinks  of  them  as  his  children."  "  He  who  bears  the  reproach 
 of  his  country  shall  be  called  the  Lord  of  the  Land;  he  who  bears  the 
 calamities  of  his  country  shall  be  called  the  King  of  the  World." 
 
 I  have  already  referred  to  Chuang-tzu,  a  philosopher  who  lived  two 
 lumdred  years  after  his  great  master — the  ablest,  boldest,  and  most 
 audacious  of  the  Taoist  writers.  It  is  one  of  his  greatest  glories  that  he 
 protested,  with  all  the  eloquence  and  satire  at  his  command,  against  the 
 exaggerated  reverence  paid  to  books,  to  tradition,  and  to  authority,  by  the 
 Confucian  school ;  and  that  he  claimed  and  exercised  the  fullest  and 
 completest  lil)erty  of  thought  and  argument.  There  are  some  striking 
 sentences  scattered  up  and  down  his  fascinating  but  most  difficult  pages. 
 "  Wherever  one's  treasure  may  be,"  he  says  in  one  place,  "  thither  will  the 
 lieart  of  man  follow  it."  I  need  not  remind  you  of  a  corresponding 
 passage  in  the  Sermon  on  tlie  Mount.  "  Those  who  dream  about  the 
 pleasures  of  the  wine-cup,"  he  says  again,  "  weep  and  lament  at  sunrise. 
 Those  who  weep  in  their  dreams  will  go  a-hunting  when  the  dawn  breaks." 
 A  sanguine  man  who  jumps  too  hastily  at  conclusions  is  compared  to  one 
 who  expects  to  hear  an  egg  crow  at  daybreak,  or  thinks  he  can  shoot 
 a  bird  by  looking  at  a  cross-bow.  "  For  the  Pure  Men  of  old,"  he  tells 
 us  elsewhere,  "life  had  no  attractions,  and  death  no  terrors.  Living, 
 they  experience  no  elation  ;  dying,  they  offered  no  resistance.  Being 
 born,  they  acccjjted  the  fact;  when  the  oblivion  of  death  came,  they  just 
 returned  to  what  they  had  been  before.  Thus  it  was  that  their  hearts 
 were  free  from  care,  and  they  preserved  a  condition  of  absolute  inactivity." 
 And  I  must  not  forget  a  characteristic  story  told  of  Chuang-tzu  himself 
 
86  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 upon  his  deathbed.  His  last  injunction  to  his  weeping  relatives  was  to 
 leave  his  corpse  uninterred.  "  I  will  have  Heaven  and  Earth  for  my  sarco- 
 phagus," he  said  ;  "  the  Sun  and  Moon  shall  be  the  insignia  where  I  lie 
 in  state,  and  all  Creation  shall  be  mourners  at  my  funeral."  His  friends 
 implored  him  to  forego  this  strange  request,  pointing  out  that  the  birds 
 would  mutilate  his  corpse  ;  but  he  replied,  "  ^^■hat  matters  that  ?  Above 
 are  the  birds  of  the  air,  below  are  the  worms  and  ants ;  if  you  rob  one  to 
 feed  the  othei-,  what  injustice  is  there  done  ?  " 
 
 Cbuang-tzu  was  nothing  if  not  paradoxical,  and  one  of  his  favourite 
 theories  was  the  utility  of  uselessness.  A  friend  of  his  once  complained 
 that  he  had  a  tree,  the  Avood  of  which  was  so  coarse,  viscous,  and  full  of 
 knots,  as  to  be  perfectly  worthless ;  its  leaves  were  fetid,  and  its  branches 
 gnarled  and  crooked,  so  that  no  carpenter  would  cast  a  glance  at  it  as  he 
 passed  by.  Chuang-tzii  replied  that  it  was  to  its  very  uselessness  that  the 
 tree  owed  its  prolonged  existence;  for  just  as  the  beautifully  marked  skins 
 of  the  leopard  and  the  tiger  led  to  their  being  slain,  so  do  the  fine  proper- 
 ties of  superior  wood  lead  to  the  destruction  of  a  tree.  In  fact,  a  coarse 
 and  inferior  tree,  on  account  of  its  unfitness  to  be  used  for  timber,  lives 
 out  its  natural  term  of  years,  while  one  of  the  monarchs  of  the  forest  falls 
 a  speedy  prey  to  the  woodman's  axe  ;  wherefore  it  is  better  to  be  an 
 unlearned  and  ignorant  man,  left  to  the  enjoyment  of  a  retired  and 
 simple  existence,  than  a  clever,  pushing,  ambitious  person,  liable  to  be 
 led  into  the  dangers  of  public  life,  where  his  career  may  be  cut  short, 
 either  by  the  cares  and  responsibilities  of  his  position,  or  by  the  vicissi- 
 tudes and  intrigues  that  will  beset  him.  "  Men  understand  the  use  of 
 useful  things,"  says  Chuang-tzu,  '■  but  they  have  yet  to  learn  the  use  of 
 things  that  are  useless." 
 
 Lieh-tzii  does  not  hold  so  high  a  place  in  the  Taoist  hierarchy  as 
 Chuang-tzU,  but  he  is,  nevertheless,  an  author  of  great  merit  and  no  small 
 originalit3\  He  is  principally  remarkable  for  the  collection  of  racy  and 
 entertaining  stories  which  his  book  contains ;  and,  as  my  lecture  has,  I 
 am  afraid,  been  a  rather  dry  one  hitherto,  I  will  give  you  some  specimens. 
 The  first  one  inculcates  a  lesson  akin  to  Chuang-tzu's  theory  of  useless- 
 ness, and  may  be  called,  "  Moderation  is  the  Best  Policy."  An  elderly 
 man  lay  dying,  and  as  he  felt  his  end  drawing  near  he  called  his  son  to 
 him,  and  said,  "  The  King  has  sought  to  load  me  with  honours,  but  I 
 have  consistently  declined  them.  When  I  am  dead,  he  will  seek  to  bestow 
 honours  upon  you  ;  but  mind  what  I  say — accept  no  land  from  him  that 
 is  worth  anything.  Now  between  the  States  of  Ch'u  and  Yueh  there  is 
 a  bit  of  ground  that  is  of  no  use  to  anybody,  and  has,  moreover,  a  bad 
 reputation,  for  many  people  believe  it  to  be  haunted.  This  is  a  kind  of 
 projterty  that  you  may  keep  for  ever."  Soon  after  this  the  man  died,  and 
 the  King  offered  a  beautiful  piece  of  land  to  his  son.  The  youth,  how- 
 ever, declined  it,  and  begged  for  the  bad  piece.  Tiiis  was  granted  to  him  ; 
 and  he  has  never  lost  possession  of  it  to  this  day. 
 
TAOISM.  87 
 
 At  the  time  when   Lieh-tzii  wrote,   the  petty  Kings  of  China  were  for 
 ever  neglecting  the  welAire  of  their  own  States  in  order  to  attack  their 
 neighbours  ;    a  policy   which  naturally  provoked  the  indignation   of  the 
 Taoist    Sages.      The    following    anecdote,    headed    "Guard    your    own 
 Frontier,"  conveys  the   gentle   though    cutting   rebuke   of   Lieh-tz.u.      A 
 certain  Duke  once  started  to  attend  a  Conference  of  Feudal  Princes,  the 
 object  of  which  was  to  organize  an  attack  upon  one  of  the  States  of  the 
 Empire.     He  was  accompanied  by  an  armed  force  and  by  one  of  his 
 principal  Ministers,  who  was  observed,  during  the  journey,  to  cast  up  his 
 eyes  and  laugh.     "What  arc  you  laughing  at?"  demanded  the   Duke. 
 "  I   was   laughing,"  replied  the  Minister,  "  about  a  certain  neighbour  of 
 mine.     He  was  escorting  his  wife  on  her  way  to  pay  a  visit  to  her  parents, 
 when   he  espied  a  very  pretty  girl  picking  mulberry  leaves  for  silkworms. 
 Delighted  at    the    rencontre,    my  friend   stopped   to    talk  to  her,   when, 
 hap[)ening  to  turn  his  head,  he  saw  somebody  else  paying  attention  to  his 
 wife.     That  was  what  I  was  laughing  to  myself  about."     The  Duke  under- 
 stood the  hint.     He  did  not  proceed  any   farther,  but  led  his  soldiers 
 back.     It  was,  liowever,  too  late  ;  for  they  had  not  arrived  in  their  own 
 country  when  news  reached  them  that  an  enemy  had  come  during  their 
 absence  and  attacked  their  northern  frontier. 
 
 One  more  story,  and  I  have  done  with  Lieh-tzu.  The  Taoists,  as  you 
 are  aware,  despised  the  Confucianists,  and  were  never  tired  of  poking 
 fun  at  Confucius.  Here  is  a  specimen  of  their  humour.  One  day,  as 
 Confucius  was  on  a  journey,  he  came  upon  two  small  boys  quarrelling, 
 and  asked  what  was  the  matter.  The  first  replied,  "  I  contend  that  when 
 the  sun  rises  it  is  near  to  us,  and  that  at  the  zenith  it  is  a  long  way  off." 
 "And  I,"  said  the  other,  "say  that  it  is  farthest  when  it  rises,  and 
 nearest  in  the  middle  of  the  day."  "  It  isn't,"  protested  the  first.  "  When 
 the  sun  rises,  it  looks  as  big  as  the  tent  of  a  cart,  while  in  the  middle  of 
 the  day  it  is  only  the  size  of  a  saucer.  Isn't  it  clear  that  when  it  is 
 farthest  it  looks  small,  and  when  nearest  it  looks  big? '"'  Then  the  second 
 rejoined,  "But  when  the  sun  rises,  it  is  quite  chilly  and  cold,  while  at 
 midday  it  is  broiling  hot  \  Doesn't  it  stand  to  reason  that  it  is  hottest 
 when  it  is  near,  and  coldest  when  far  off?"  Confucius  confessed  himself 
 unable  to  decide  between  them;  whereupon  both  the  urchins  mocked 
 him,  saying,  "  Go  to  ;  who  says  that  you  are  a  learned  man?  " 
 
 I  now  pass  on  to  the  consideration  of  two  more  popular  works,  which 
 embody  a  development  of  Taoism  almost  entirely  untainted  with  that 
 superstitious  element  which  so  soon  began  to  corrupt  the  purity  of  the  pri- 
 mitive philosophy.  The  first  to  which  I  ask  your  attention  is  the  Si't  Shu, 
 or  Book  of  Plain  JVonfs,  a  tractate  supposed  to  date  from  the  year  245  i;.c. 
 or  thereabouts.  It  constitutes  an  application  of  the  Taoist  doctrines  to 
 political,  social,  and  individual  life;  and,  making  allowance  for  differences 
 of  time  and  place,  presents  a  remarkable  resemblance  to  the  Jewish  Book 
 of  Proverbs.     The  writer  is  addressing,  first  and  foremost,  a  statesman  ; 
 
88  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 and  whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  trustworthiness  and  incorruptibiUty 
 of  Chinese  mandarins  at  the  present  day,  it  is  unquestionable  that  the 
 standard  here  set  before  them  is  a  very  high  one.  The  pubHc  man,  we 
 are  told,  should  be  one  whose  conduct  is  a  pattern  for  others  to  imitate, 
 whose  wisdom  enables  him  to  give  just  judgments,  whose  personal  sincerity 
 causes  sincerity  in  otliers,  who  can  incur  hatred  and  suspicion  without 
 deserting  his  post,  and  who  never  takes  advantage  of  his  position  to 
 secure  benefits  for  himself.  "  Tliere  is  nothing,"  continues  our  author, 
 "  that  W'ill  enable  you  to  pursue  your  course  in  greater  peace  than  the 
 patient  hearing  of  insult.^''  "There  is  no  deeper  source  of  joy  than  the 
 love  of  goodness  ;  nothing  that  will  give  you  a  profounder  insight  into 
 hidden  things  than  perfect  sincerity  in  word  and  deed  ;  but  nothing  more 
 certain  to  bring  ruin  upon  you  than  partiality  or  injustice." 
 
 You  must  understand  that  these  aphorisms,  while  applicable  to  indi- 
 viduals, were  primarily  intended  for  the  guidance  of  the  governing  classes^ 
 and  that  at  a  time  when  the  disordered  condition  of  the  country  demanded 
 the  exercise  of  special  tact  and  absolute  incorruptibility  on  the  part  of 
 inagistrates  and  statesmen.  This  point  is  brought  out  with  even  greater 
 clearness  in  the  quotations  which  follow,  the  shrewdness  and  knowledge 
 of  human  nature  displayed  in  which  is  very  marked.  "  Those  whose 
 commands  are  at  variance  with  their  consciences,"  says  the  author,  "  will 
 meet  with  failure.  If  a  man  is  aitgfy  loithout  inspiring  awe,  the  delin- 
 quency which  has  irritated  him  will  be  repeated.  It  is  dangerous,  first  to 
 treat  a  man  with  contumely,  and  afterwards  entrust  him  with  responsi- 
 bility. The  man  who  hides  an  alienated  heart  behind  a  friendly  face  will 
 be  shunned.  The  sovereign  who  loves  flatterers,  and  holds  aloof  from 
 the  honest  and  true,  will  soon  see  his  kingdom  fall.  To  make  little  of 
 one's  own  faults,  and  be  severe  on  those  of  others,  is  not  the  way  to 
 govern.  He  who  bestows  rewards  with  a  grudging  face  will  receive  a 
 grudging  service.  He  who  is  niggardly  in  bestowing,  and  yet  looks  for 
 a  large  return,  will  get  no  return  at  all.  He  who  enqjloys  people  without 
 regard  to  their  peculiar  capabilities,  will  incur  the  evil  results  of  his 
 carelessness.  He  who,  in  a  position  of  honour,  forgets  the  friends  of 
 humbler  days,  will  not  enjoy  his  honours  long.  If  you  have  no  confidence 
 in  yourself,  you  will  be  distrustful  of  others;  but  if  you  can  trust  yourself, 
 you  will  not  suspect  the  people.  If  you  drive  a  carriage  in  the  ruts  of 
 another  carriage  that  has  been  overturned,  you  will  meet  with  the  same 
 disaster ;  so,  if  you  follow  the  example  set  by  a  State  that  has  been  already 
 ruined,  yours  will  be  ruined  too." 
 
 So  much  for  the  Book  of  Plain  Words,  a  manual  of  much  practical  and 
 moral  value,  intended  for  the  guidance  of  governors.  Let  us  now  turn  to 
 a  more  popular  treatise,  called  the  Book  of  Recompenses,  addressed  more 
 particularly  to  the  governed.  Tliis  work,  the  Chinese  name  of  which  is 
 the  Kan  Yuig  Pien,  is  read  almost  universally  in  China,  and  exercises 
 much  influence  over  millions  of  lives.     In  it  wo  are  brought  face  to  face 
 
TAOISM.  «9 
 
 with  tlie  great  doctrine  of  rewards  and  retributions  ;  and  the  bulk  (A  llic 
 hook  consists  of  one  tremendously  long  sentence,  containing  in  my  trans- 
 lation of  it  no  fewer  than  one  thousand  four  hundred  words,  enumerating 
 the  various  crimes  and  misdemeanours  which  bring  the  judgment  of 
 Heaven  iiijoii  the  perpetrators.  The  exhortations  with  whicli  the  i>ook 
 opens  are  singularly  beautiful :  — 
 
 "Advance  in  all  that  is  in  harmony  with  good  ;  retreat  from  all  that  is 
 oi)posed  to  it.  \\'i\\V.  not  in  the  paths  of  depravity,  nor  deceive  yourselves 
 by  sinning  in  the  dark  where  none  can  sec  you.  Accumulate  virtue  and 
 store  u[)  merit  ;  treat  all  with  gentleness  and  love  ;  be  loyal,  be  dutiful  ; 
 be  respectful  to  your  elders  and  kind  to  your  juniors;  be  upright  your- 
 selves in  order  that  you  uiny  reform  others  ;  comjjassionatc  the  fiitherless 
 and  widow  ;  reverence  the  aged,  cherish  the  young  ;  do  not  injure  even 
 little  insects,  or  grass,  or  trees.  I'ity  the  wickedness  of  others  and  rcjfjice 
 at  their  virtues  !  succour  them  in  tiieir  distresses,  and  rescue  them  when  in 
 danger ;  when  a  man  gains  his  desires,  let  it  be  as  though  his  good  fortune 
 were  your  own  ;  when  one  suffers  loss,  as  though  you  suffered  it  yourself. 
 Never  publish  the  failings  of  another,  or  make  a  parade  of  your  own 
 merits  ;  put  a  stop  to  evil,  and  afford  every  encouragement  to  goodness; 
 be  not  grasping,  but  learn  to  content  yourself  with  little.  Wiien  you  arc 
 reviled,  cherish  no  resentment  ;  when  you  receive  favours,  do  so  as  de- 
 precating your  deserts;  be  kind  and  generous  without  seeking  any  return, 
 and  never  rc|)ent  of  anything  you  may  give  to  others.  This,"  concludes 
 <;ur  author,  "  is  to  be  a  good  man  ;  one  whom  heaven  will  guard,  whom  all 
 will  respect,  whom  blessings  and  honours  will  accompany,  wh(jm  no  evil 
 will  tou(  h,  and  whom  all  good  spirits  will  defeml."  It  may,  indeed,  be 
 Ipiestioned  whether  even  Christianity  itself  affords  a  higher  or  more  touch- 
 ing portraiture  of  "  the  good  man  "  than  is  sketched  in  these  beautiful 
 sentences.  Then  follows  the  long  catalogue  of  sins,  any  one  of  which  is 
 suflkient  to  evoke  calamities  of  the  direst  nature.  Among  them  are 
 enumerated  the  worrying  of  dumb  creatures,  accepting  bribes,  slaughtering 
 eneuues  who  have  tendered  llieir  submission,  attributing  other  jjeople's 
 misfortunes  to  their  sins,  borrowing  money  and  then  longing  for  the 
 lender's  death,  mocking  another's  physical  deformities,  going  to  law,  for- 
 saking old  friends  for  new,  making  mischief  between  relations,  and  return- 
 ing evil  for  good.  Finally,  we  are  implored  to  read  and  study  the  book 
 with  earnestness  and  singleness  of  heart.  The  first  reriuisite  for  profiting 
 by  its  admonitions  is  un<iuestioning  faith  ;  the  second,  diligence  in  .self- 
 cultivati(jn  ;  the  tl\ird,  determination,  or  perseverance  ;  the  fourth,  com- 
 plete sincerity.  "  To  attempt  to  put  away  the  vice  and  depravity  of  a 
 lifetime  when  the  sun  of  life  is  setting,  is  like  trying  to  e.xtinguish  a  bla/.ing 
 wagon-load  of  hay  with  a  cup  of  water."  If  faith  be  small,  llie  blessing 
 will  be  small ;  if  great,  the  blessing  will  be  great ;  while  if  faith  be  mixed 
 with  doubt,  self-injury  and  selfloss  will  be  the  inevitable  result.  In  con- 
 clusion :—"  Honoured  reader,"  says  the  author,  "  I  urge  you   to  advance 
 
so  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 swiftly,  fearlessly,  and  with  your  whole  heart  in  the  course  I  have  here  laid 
 down.  Know  that  we  are  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  a  multitude  of  spirit- 
 ual beings,  who  take  note  of  all  we  do.  Therefore,  be  watchful,  and  ex- 
 amine yourself  strictly;  act  in  accordance  with  these  admonitions  at  all 
 times ;  then  you  will  never  fail  to  do  justice  to  your  real  self."  "  The  con- 
 nection between  actions  and  their  consequences  is  the  mysterious  law  of 
 God — the  changeless  decree  pronounced  by  the  Judge  of  the  miseen 
 world." 
 
 It  would  seem,  from  this  last  remarkable  expression,  that,  at  one  stage 
 in  Taoist  development,  belief  in  a  Personal  God  or  Supreme  Judge  had 
 grown  up.  The  book  I  have  been  quoting  from  is  the  most  popular  re- 
 ligious work  in  China,  and  naturally  aftbrds  a  marked  contrast  to  the 
 philosophical  and  abstract  ideas  contained  in  the  primitive  classics.  As  I 
 have  already  told  you,  pure  Taoism  knows  nothing  of  what  we  understand 
 by  God;  and  the  theistic  conception  seems  to  have  been  imported  into  it 
 at  a  much  later  date.  In  all  other  respects,  however,  the  development  of 
 Taoism  has  been  one  of  hopeless  degeneracy.  The  lofty  asceticism  in- 
 culcated by  I.ao-tzu  became  vulgarized  into  a  means  by  which  to  achieve 
 the  sublimation  of  the  body.  Speculative  research  into  the  mysteries  of 
 Nature  was  degraded  into  an  attempt  to  transmute  the  baser  metals  into 
 gold  ;  aspirations  after  a  never-ending  life  beyond  the  grave  sank  into  the 
 meaner  pursuits  of  prolonged  temporal  existence ;  and  communings  with 
 the  spiritual  intelligences  of  Nature  were  resolved  into  a  base  belief  in 
 witchcraft,  by  proficiency  in  which  the  Taoist  priest  arrogated  to  himself 
 the  power  of  exorcism  over  evil  spirits.  I  happen  to  be  acquainted  with 
 the  present  Pope,  High  Priest,  or  Grand  Wizard  of  Taoism.  His  name  is 
 C'hang,  and  he  is  commonly  spoken  of  as  Chang  T'ien  Shih,  or  Chang  the 
 Heavenly  Teacher.  He  claims,  and  is  believed,  to  be  the  direct  lineal 
 descendant  by  metempsychosis  of  a  celebrated  sorcerer  named  Chang 
 Taoling,  who  lived  early  in  the  Christian  era.  Pie  possesses  the  secret  of 
 immortality,  and  is  regarded  with  the  utmost  veneration  by  the  more 
 uneducated  classes  in  China.  Pie  is  a  great  exorcist,  and  is  believed  to 
 wield  dominion  over  all  the  spirits  of  the  Universe  and  the  unseen  powers 
 generally,  by  means  of  a  magic  sword.  His  palace  is  situated  in  the  pro- 
 vince of  Kiang-hsi,  where  he  mimics  imperial  state,  has  a  large  retinue  of 
 courtiers,  confers  ranks  and  honours  among  ghosts,  spirits,  and  minor 
 deities  with  all  the  dignity  of  an  actual  sovereign,  and  keeps  a  long  row  of 
 jars  full  of  captured  demons,  whom  he  has  disarmed  and  bottled-up  from 
 doing  further  mischief.  When  I  saw  him  several  years  ago,  he  appeared 
 to  be  about  forty  years  old,  of  middle  height,  smooth  face,  and  very  oily 
 manners  ;  and  he  was  good  enough  to  write,  and  present  me  with,  the  re- 
 markable scroll  that  you  are. now  looking  at.  It  is  a  charm  to  ward  off 
 evil  spirits. 
 
 But  my  time  is  up,  and  I   do  not  want  your  last  impressions  of  Taoism 
 to   be  connected  with  any  such  superstitious  folly  as  is  represented  by 
 
TAOISM.  91 
 
 Pope  Cliang.  Let  your  thoughts  revert,  rather,  to  the  pure,  wise,  deep, 
 philosophy  of  Nature  ;  to  those  calm  and  unworldly  sages  who  are  asso- 
 ciated with  all  that  is  best  in  Taoism  ;  to  their  quietism  and  passion- 
 Icssness,  their  profound  insensibility  to  all  those  desires,  attractions, 
 schcmings,  pleasures,  and  ambitions  which  injure  and  destroy  the  pure, 
 original  nature  of  men  ;  and  to  the  beautiful  teachings  which  those  old 
 patriarchs  have  left  behind  them.  When  you  think  of  Taoism,  don't 
 think  of  the  Taoist  Pope,  with  his  army  of  ignorant  and  juggling  priests; 
 think  of  it  rather  as  a  pure  and  fine  philosophy,  the  moral  outcome  of 
 which  finds  its  expression  in  some  of  the  words  I  have  already  quoted  to 
 you  : — 
 
 "  Recompense  injuiy  with  kintlncss." 
 
 •'Resent  it  not,  wlien  you  are  reviled." 
 
 "  Noliiing  will  give  you  greater  peace  than  tlie  patient  bearing  of  insult.'' 
 
 "  He  wlio  overcomes  others  is  strong  :  he  who  overcomes  himself  is  mighty." 
 
THE    RELIGIONS    OF    JAPAN. 
 
 By  C.  Pfoundes  (late  of  Japan), 
 
 {Member  Royal  United  Sen^ice  Institution  ;   Hon.   Corresponding  Member 
 Geographical  Society,  Japan  ;  Hon.  Fell.  Soc.  Sc.  Lit.  6^  Art,  Lond.) 
 
 The  religions  of  Japan  present  to  the  intelligent  inquirer  and  industrious 
 student  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  valuable  material,  especially  so  to  those 
 engaged  in  ethical  culture  ;  and  of  the  many  interesting  phases  of  Oriental 
 thought,  none  will  better  repay  the  time  and  labour. 
 
 The  lecturer's  claim  to  treat  upon  this  subject,  is  based  on  the  fact 
 of  some  years'  residence  in  Japan,  mostly  in  temples,  during  the  most 
 critical  and  momentous  period  of  its  modern  history,  and,  with  knowledge 
 of  the  vernacular,  he  discussed  such  matters  with  intelligent  natives  and 
 priests  of  various  sects. 
 
 He  was  much  impressed  by  the  great  amiability  and  innate  courtesy 
 of  all  classes,  their  high  sense  of  duty  and  patriotism,  and  neighbourly 
 good  qualities,  as  well  as  the  broadness  and  liberality  with  which  all  such 
 subjects  were  discussed,  having  regard  to  the  feelings  of  others,  even  when 
 dissenting  from  them  in  opinion. 
 
 The  geographical  position  of  the  group  of  islands  forming  the  Japanese 
 Empire  is  an  important  factor  in  its  condition  of  intellectual  and  religious 
 thought  and  development ;  and  the  unique  stability  of  its  chief  political 
 institutions  is  another  element  of  moment. 
 
 Learned  persons  have  been  in  all  times  niost  welcome  in  Japan  ;  and 
 the  gifted  natives  who  travelled  far  and  wide  returned  with  vast  stores  of 
 knowledge.  To  understand  the  religious  life  of  a  nation,  the  alien,  not 
 always  welcome,  must  get  at  the  inner  life,  achieve  the  entire  confidence, 
 learn  the  language  and  modes  of  thought  and  the  sources  from  which  they 
 are  derived.  The  reticence  of  the  natives — not  to  be  surprised  at,  their 
 confidences  having  been  so  often,  alas  !  betrayed — has  precluded  exhaustive 
 information  being  afforded  to  all  comers. 
 
 For  a  lucid  and  concise  exposition,  it  may  be  well  to  deal  with  the 
 <]uestions  chronologically,  so  far  as  the  annals  of  Japan,  confirmed  by 
 other  sources  of  knowledge,  aid  us  for  the  earlier  periods. 
 
 It  is  perhaps  most  convenient  to  divide  the  subject  into  indigenous 
 and  alien  cults  ;  but  they  are  so  very  closely  interwoven  that  it  is  not 
 easy  to  separate  so  complicated,  though  not  at  all  homogeneous  a  whole. 
 
 The  most  important  section  will  be  dealt  with  by  another  lecturer,  who 
 
 will  speak  on  Shintoism — so  that  will  not  be  trespassed  upon  further  than 
 
 is  absolutely  essential. 
 
 92 
 
THE  RELIGIONS   OF  JAPAN.  93 
 
 The  origin  of  a  people,  or  at  least  the  sources  whence  they  derived 
 their  radical  religious  ideas,  and,  if  possible,  also  the  eras  when  such  were 
 received,  will  necessarily  have  to  be  entered  upon. 
 
 Japan  may  have  been  peopled  from  several  widely  separated  sources, 
 from  north  to  south.  It  certainly  has  been  visited  by  ancient  scholars 
 from  far-distant  parts  of  the  continent. 
 
 The  survivals  of  natural  religion  yet  to  be  found  are  highly  interesting 
 to  the  more  advanced  student ;  but  it  is  the  first  development  of  the 
 ethical  ideals,  through  superstitions,  religions,  and  philosophy,  that  chiefly 
 concerns  us. 
 
 About  the  time  of  the  early  days  of  Rome,  a  highly  intellectual  race 
 appeared  on  the  arena  of  Japanese  history  ;  and  the  first  few  centuries  appear 
 to  have  been  fully  occupied  in  reducing  the  very  barbarous  autochthones 
 to  something  like  peaceful  order ;  and  teaching  the  primitive  arts.  Since 
 then,  in  unbroken  descent,  we  have  had,  unicjue  in  history,  a  long  line  of 
 rulers,  the  present  being  the  hundred  and  twenty-third  in  the  course 
 of  the  twenty-five  and  a  half  centuries  ;  and  Japan's  is  the  oldest  imperial 
 dynasty  existent,  chief  of  the  civil  and  religious  life  of  the  empire  :  and 
 on  this  the  national  cultus  is  founded.  Spiritual  activity  is  therefore  very 
 ancient,  and  is  undoubtedly  the  development  of  far  earlier  teaching. 
 
 Chinese  and  Indian  literature,  i)hiloso|)hy,  metaphysics,  and  science 
 were  introduced,  and  are  to  Japan  what  Greek  and  Latin  classics  are  to 
 ourselves. 
 
 The  classics,  of  which  Confucius  is  the  best-known  collector  and 
 editor,  the  phiIosoi)hy  of  the  Taoists,  and  later  the  Indian,  followed  by 
 Buddhism,  entered  into  Japanese  education,  and  influenced  thought  and 
 conduct. 
 
 In  passing  through  China,  Indian  dogma  became  materially  leavened, 
 so  that  we  shall  find  many  sects  in  Japan,  but  all  quite  as  harmonious  as, 
 and  quarrelling  no  more  than  do,  sectarians  nearer  home.  There  arc 
 more  than  a  dozen  sects  of  IJuddhism  now  in  Japan,  several  of  which 
 have  numerous  sub-sects. 
 
 'I'he  Chinese  and  Indians  who  arrived  from  time  to  time  in  Japan,  as 
 well  as  the  Japanese  who  returned  from  India,  China,  etc.,  founded  many 
 distinct  sects,  and  taught  much  that  diverged,  sometimes  conflicting  with 
 the  transcendental  Buddhism  of  Aryavata. 
 
 Buddhism  was  resisted  strenuously  for  a  long  time,  at  first  by  the 
 custodians  of  the  shrines  of  the  indigenous  cultus  ;  and  it  was  not  till  the 
 fifth  century,  a  thousand  years  after  the  Buddha,  Gautama  Shaklya  INIuni, 
 that  it  obtained  a  foothold.  One  of  the  imperial  family  took  up  the 
 cause,  like  Asoka  of  India,  and  became  the  "  Constantine  "  of  Japanese 
 religion. 
 
 A\'hatevcr  Christianity  may  or  may  not  owe  to  earlier  Buddhism,  there 
 can  be  little  doubt  that  later  Buddhism  contains  elements  of  Christianity 
 as  of  other  beliefs. 
 
94  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 From  time  to  time  eftbits  were  made,  more  or  less  successful,  to  revive 
 the  pure  Shinto  or  Kami  no  Michi — divine  way  or  spiritual  doctrine;  and 
 this  must  have  greatly  influenced  Buddhism,  and  enforced  some  reform 
 within  itself,  and  purified  it  of  the  demoralizing  influences  a  sacerdotal 
 class  always  permits  to  flourish.  The  growth  of  power  of  a  theocracy  here, 
 as  in  all  time,  had  its  evils  ;  and  Buddhism  is  no  exception  in  history. 
 
 The  various  sects  that  arose  each  based  their  doctrine  on  some  special 
 portions  of  the  great  body  of  teaching  as  received  from  India,  leavened 
 and  modified  by  Chinese  and  Japanese  philosophies  and  modes  of 
 thought. 
 
 The  original  eight  sects,  some  offshoots  from  those  established  in  Ciiina 
 during  the  preceding  centuries,  grew  into  others.  Some  flourislied  ;  others 
 declined,  or  were  absorbed  in  newer,  stronger  movements. 
 
 It  must  be  remembered  that  Buddhism  was  a  successful  revolt  against 
 Brahmanical  domination  and  monopolizing  of  sacred  offices  and  high-caste 
 exclusive  privileges. 
 
 Some  of  the  sects  taught  that  good  works  and  the  acquisition  ol 
 "  merit "  were  all-essential  to  salvation ;  others  impressed — and  still  do 
 so — the  efficacy  of  continued  repetition  of  exclamatory  invocation,  or 
 recitation  of  some  ritual.  Some  work  themselves  up  to  a  point  of  religious 
 ecstasy,  just  like  more  or  less  ignorant  and  bigoted  enthusiastic  fanatics 
 much  nearer  home  to-day. 
 
 The  intonation  of  prayers,  with  accompaniment  of  bell,  or  gong,  or 
 drum,  was  one  of  the  disadvantages  of  residence  in  temple  buildings  ; 
 but  one  got  used  to  it,  like  other  matters,  in  time,  by  the  exercise  of  a 
 little  patience  and  philosophy,  until  at  last  the  monotonous,  yet  not  always 
 unmusical,  certainly  generally  rhythmical,  sounds  became  positively  somni- 
 ferous. 
 
 Just  a  few  words  by  way  of  comparison  as  to  the  contrasts  between  the 
 fundamental  points  of  Christianity  and  the  prevailing  beliefs  of  the  far 
 East,  in  all  courtesy  and  respect  for  the  feelings  of  professing  Christians. 
 
 The  Redemption,  the  basis  of  Christianity,  finds  no  place,  no  parallel ; 
 indeed,  so  far  from  sympathy,  it  is  received  with  abhorrence  by  the  great 
 majority  of  natives,  tlie  educated  especially,  however  carefully  the  feeling 
 may  be  suppressed  in  the  company  of  missionaries  and  foreigners  avowedly 
 entl\usiastic  Christians.  The  idea  of  the  Deity  lampooned  by  Bobbie 
 Burns,  in  his  satire  on  the  "  Elect,"  finds  no  place  in  the  religious  con- 
 ception of  the  natives  of  the  extreme  Orient.  Sacrifice,  much  less  pro- 
 pitiatory sacrifice  of  such  awful  character,  and  the  Sacrament  of  the 
 Church,  was  an  incredible  mystery.  Its  necessity  could  not  be  under- 
 stood by  those  who  were  asked  to  accept  as  a  God  of  love  a  deity  that 
 permitted,  much  less  demanded,  the  perpetuation  of  such  a  doctrine. 
 
 The  justice,  too,  of  a  priesthood  being  competent  to  remit  sins  at  the 
 last  moment,  and  place  the  most  wicked  on  the  same  level  with  the  most 
 virtuous,  is  another  difficulty.     Tiiat  sin  should  be  forgiven  under  such 
 
THE  RELIGIONS   OF  JAPAX.  95 
 
 coudiiions,  is  viewed  as  a  direct  incentive  to  wrong-doing,  if  it  can  be 
 finally  cancelled  whenever  it  suits  the  wicked  one  to  become  good. 
 
 Buddiiism  is  much  discussed  nowadays;  but  it  is  greatly  misunderstood, 
 often,  I  fear,  wilfully  misstated.  To  take  any  one  local  or  sectarian  pliase, 
 and  the  less  admirable  features  of  this,  as  representing  the  general  and 
 fundamental  principles  is,  intentional  or  not,  too  often  the  suggestio  falsi 
 as  well  as  the  siippressio  zcri,  if  not  worse  even. 
 
 Buddhism  teaches  that  mankind  should  work  out,  each  for  themselves, 
 their  own  salvation,  and  rectify  the  ills  caused  by  fellow-mortals  by  reason- 
 able human  effort. 
 
 Sujjerhuman  or  supernatural  aids  for  the  present  or  for  the  hereafter 
 appear  necessary  in  the  teaching  of  certain  sects,  whose  dogma  is  of  later 
 development,  derived  from  other  than  pure  Buddhistic  sources. 
 
 'i"o  those  who  seek  a  personal  salvation,  by  merit  or  otherwise,  this  is 
 not  altogether  denied ;  but  to  those  who  attain  to  the  higher  ideals  some- 
 thing far  higher,  much  less  selfish,  more  noble,  is  offered.  Amongst  the 
 educated  classes  formal  prayers  and  religious  observance  are  less  general 
 than  amongst  the  illiterate. 
 
 An  illustration,  one  of  a  series  of  caricatures,  represents  an  old  woman 
 reckoning  upon  her  abacus,  in  front  of  a  gilt  image,  her  good  and  evil 
 deeds  from  the  entries  in  a  book  open  in  the  lap  of  the  idol. 
 
 Some  of  the  Japanese  with  whom  I  have  talked,  quite  agree  with  those 
 Roman  Catholics  who  do  not  deem  the  Bible,  in  its  entirety,  quite  the  most 
 fitting  book  for  general  family  reading  ;  especially  for  the  young  of  either 
 sex  to  i)ick  out  certain  passages  that  in  any  other  book  would  be  deemed 
 most  highly  objectionable;  and  think  that  those  who  criticise  Oriental 
 books,  and  animadvert  on  their  indecency,  should  look  nearer  home  first. 
 
 The  inexperienced,  partially  educated,  young  missionary  does  not  appeal 
 with  very  great  effect  (often  very  much  wanting  in  tact)  to  the  educated 
 and  subtle-minded  natives.  Even  all  but  the  most  illiterate  are  astute 
 enough  to  see  the  jiropagandist  is  not  well-informed  on  general  subjects, 
 and  usually  narrow-minded.  Besides,  the  general  method  of  attacking  the 
 native  faith  and  ideas,  before  becoming  thoroughly  acquainted  with  what 
 is  attacked,  displays  more  than  mere  want  of  judgment,  and  vitiates  the 
 etTorts.  The  native  knows  the  missioner  is  a  paid  agent — another  vital 
 (law. 
 
 After  the  visit  of  Xavier  (the  pupil  of  Lojola,  the  founder  of  the  Jesuits) 
 the  propagandists  of  Rome  had  a  short  but  not  very  brilliant  period  of 
 success.  In  consequence  of  the  priests  meddling  in  politics,  and  some- 
 thing more  than  mere  suspicion  of  a  desire  to  reduce  Japan  to  a  depend- 
 ency of  Rome,  or  some  Roman  Catholic  European  State,  the  priests  were 
 given  notice  to  quit ;  but  they  incited  the  converts  to  open  rebellion,  and 
 forced  their  way  secretly  amongst  the  natives.  Rigorous  and  yet  more 
 severe  edicts  were  issued,  stringent  measures  taken,  and  still  the  priests 
 persevered,  till  extreme  measures  appeared  to  be  the  only  means  to  pre- 
 
96  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 serve  authority,  peace,  and  national  independence.  The  country  was 
 closed  to  the  turbulent  priests  and  the  truculent  Spaniard  and  other 
 European  traders  and  adventurers.  Peace  was  restored,  and  it  appears  to 
 have  been  maintained.  Prosperity  permitted  the  arts  and  letters  to  flourish 
 for  more  than  two  centuries.  California  became  settled,  China  partially 
 opened  to  Western  commerce.  Merchant  shipping  whalers  began  to  fre- 
 (|uent  the  Japan  seas,  shipwrecks  occurred,  and  in  time  it  w^as  deemed 
 expedient  to  force  Japan  to  open  its  ports.  The  thin  edge  inserted,  sub- 
 sequent events  culminated  in  treaties  being  forced  upon  the  Japanese, 
 under  the  guns  of  ships  of  war. 
 
 The  country  has  been  subjected  to  a  great  political  and  social  revolution 
 in  the  thirty  years  that  have  elapsed  since  the  revival  (enforced)  of  inter- 
 course with  the  outer  world.  Japanese  have  travelled  and  been  educated ; 
 and  now  missionary  societies,  Christian  associations,  etc.,  are  sending  their 
 missionaries  to  Japan  in  numbers.  The  Japanese  receive  these,  doubtless, 
 principally  on  account  of  the  material  advantage  of  numerous  instructors 
 chiefly  in  primary  education,  submitting  to  the  propaganda  tacitly  for  the 
 sake  of  the  economy. 
 
 Some  years  ago  another  sweeping  measure  resulted  in  the  complete 
 separation  of  Shinto  shrines  and  Buddljist  temples  and  the  sequestration 
 of  the  revenues,  the  vested  interests  of  those  in  office  being  compounded 
 ■with  for  pecuniary  considerations. 
 
 Buddhism  and  other  faiths  are  now  almost  completely  at  the  mercy  of  the 
 people.  Tiie  sombreness  of  our  smug  self-righteous  religionists,  Sabbata- 
 rians, etc.,  has  little  parallel  in  Japanese  religion.  Tolerant  of  the  ideas 
 and  respecting  the  feelings  of  others,  the  Ja])anese  deny  to  others  the  right 
 to  dictate  to  them  or  force  theological  dogma  upon  them  unsolicited.  In 
 Japan  it  is  quite  common  to  find  the  members  of  one  household  professing 
 various  creeds,  some  of  the  males  Shintoists  purely,  others  of  either  sex 
 professing  different  sectarian  Buddhist  creeds.  Even  a  priest  of  some  of 
 the  sects  that  permit  marriage  may  have  as  a  partner  one  of  a  different  sect, 
 though  this  is  not  very  general. 
 
 Dispassionate  inquiry  into  all  phases  of  religious  philosophies  and 
 science  is  a  national  characteristic,  almost  a  mania. 
 
 The  duties  of  the  present,  of  this  life,  rather  than  of  a  future  unrevealed, 
 are  urged  ;  and  the  cruder,  coarser  ideas  of  many  Western  religious  sects 
 are  entirely  absent. 
 
 The  observance  of  Shinto  rites,  festivals,  etc ,  is  almost  universal,  yet 
 does  not  clash  with  the  fulfilling  of  Buddhist  ceremonials  on  many  occasions 
 during  life,  whether  it  is  from  conviction,  or,  as  is  so  often  the  case,  "just 
 to  make  things  pleasant  all  round  in  the  family  circle,  and  in  a  neighbourly 
 way "  ;  yet  the  conventionalities  and  amenities  arc  carried  out  and  re- 
 spected carefully. 
 
 As  several  of  the  lectures  in  this  course  treat  of  Buddhism,  Taoism,  Con- 
 fucianism, etc.,  these  have  only  been  briefly  alluded  to  on  this  occasion ; 
 
THE  RELIGIONS  OE  JAPAX.  97 
 
 and  it  is  a  great  advantage  that  this  is  so,  as  it  clears  the  ground  for  a 
 lucid  conception  of  this  very  compHcatod  subject.  The  esoteric  Buddhism 
 of  Japan  is  not  at  all  that  of  recent  exponents  and  writers.  Occultism  and 
 charlatanism  generally  have  been  rigorously  suppressed  by  the  very  sen- 
 sible rulers  of  old  Japan  in  all  time,  out  of  regard  for  the  highest  interests 
 of  the  people. 
 
 Time  docs  not  permit  of  entering  into  the  general  and  minute  details  of 
 observance  and  dogma ;  but  for  an  audience  of  students  of  etliical  cul- 
 ture, the  salient  points  have  been  chosen  to  deal  with  so  far  as  time  permits. 
 
 The  ideal  of  duty  in  this  life  was  a  very  high  and  noble  one.  The 
 materialism  and  scepticism  of  China  were  leavened  by  the  spirituality  of 
 India;  and  the  innate  artistic  instincts  and  amiable  characteristics  of  tlie 
 people  led  them  to  work  out  the  national  idiosyncrasies. 
 
 Riglu  valiantly  have  the  Japanese  grappled  with  great  problems. 
 Heroic  efforts  have  been  made  in  the  present  and  the  past  to  solve  the  social 
 and  political  questions  that  agitate  ourselves.  These  astute  and  resthetic 
 people  are  far  more  alive  to  mental  culture  and  its  great  ethical  value  than 
 we  can  claim  to  be,  much  though  it  may  cost  our  self  conceit  to  admit  it. 
 They  know  more  of  us  than  wc  know  of  them  ;  and  could  we  but  brin^r 
 ourselves  to  see  our  own  social  condition  as  these  Easterns  see  it,  the  lesson 
 would  be  worth  our  while. 
 
 In  conclusion,  these  are  some  of  the  practical  lessons  : — 
 
 Toleration  ;  respect  for  the  feelings  of  others  ;  recognition  of  everyone's 
 light  to  think  for  themselves;  outward  conformity  to  that  which  is  held  in 
 public  veneration. 
 
 Unprejudiced,  dispassionate  inquiry  into  all  things  physical  and  psycho- 
 logical ;  no  blind  faith,  but  desire  for  knowledge  as  a  basis,  rather  than 
 leaning  on  the  judgment  of  others  probably  no  more  capable  of  judg- 
 ment. 
 
 Sturdy  independence  of  thought,  within  the  limits  of  non-interference 
 with  the  freedom  and  rights  of  others. 
 
 Refraining  from  forcing  dogmatic  opinion  unwelcome,  merely  as  a 
 personal  selfish  desire  to  acquire  merit,  or  from  aggressively  self-assertive 
 conceit. 
 
 Absence  of  that  over-eager  desire  of  personal  salvation,  even  if  gained 
 at  the  expense  of  others,  so  common  amongst  the  smug  self-righteous  of 
 our  own  land  and  age. 
 
 Recognition  of  responsibilities  and  duties,  and  that  there  is  a  loyalty 
 due  to  the  inferior  by  the  superior,  reciprocal,  not  one-sided,  as  with  us. 
 
 Refusal  to  believe  in  much  that  is  forced  upon  us  by  a  professional, 
 mercenary  religious  class,  tainted  with  suspicion  of  being  put  forward  to 
 support  their  otherwise  untenable  claims. 
 
 Knowledge  that  much  of  the  observance  of  religions  we  know  of,  is  but 
 the  survival  of  ancient  rites,  some  having  an  origin  that  would  horrify  the 
 orthodox  if  explained. 
 
 VOL.    I.  H 
 
98  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 A  high  sense  of  the  dignity  of  humanity,  and  that  each  one  should  feel 
 this  and  act  accordingly. 
 
 Charity  to  the  deserving  ;  kindness  and  gentleness  to  the  feeble  ;  pro- 
 tection to  the  oppressed ;  justice  to  all. 
 
 Unselfish  purity  in  all  things, — in  thought,  speech,  deed. 
 
 These  are  some  of  the  lessons  to  be  gleaned  from  the  far  East. 
 
 [N.B.— The  lecture  was  illiislrated  with  native  coloured  drawings,  brought  from  Jap-i" 
 by  the  lecturer;  and  by  maps  kindly  lent  by  R.  Bingham,  Esq.,  of  Messrs.  W.  &  A.  K. 
 Johnston,  for  this  and  other  lectures  at  South  Dace,  etc.] 
 
SHINTOISM  (i). 
 
 Bv  D.  GoH, 
 Of  fhe  Japanese  Consulate  in  London. 
 
 Thkkk  arc  two  important  considerations  whicli  the  investigator  of  any 
 system  of  religious  belief  should  keep  well  in  mind.  In  the  first  place,  the 
 true  and  underlying  principle,  the  essential  spirit  of  the  faith,  should  com- 
 mand primary  attention,  undisturbed  by  the  observance  of  any  existing 
 ceremonial  and  ritual  by  which  it  is  surrounded.  For  this  essential  spirit 
 may  have  become  obscured  during  the  course  of  centuries  by  the  effects 
 of  change  and  partial  corruption.  The  second  thought  to  be  kept  in  view 
 is  that  religious  aspiration,  being  a  spontaneous  growth  of  faith  in  the 
 human  mmd,  will  at  all  times  submit  its  doctrine  to  the  corrective  influence 
 of  the  intellect,  provided  its  devotees  are  not  the  slaves  of  superstition  and 
 dogma.  These  two  considerations  are  especially  important  and  necessary 
 in  dealing  with  the  subject  of  Shinto,  the  national  religion  of  Japan. 
 
 Shinto  is  the  oldest  and  perhaps  the  most  simple  of  all  creeds.  Having 
 its  rise  in  extreme  antiquity,  and  relying  for  its  substance  on  the  reverence 
 of  a  barbarous  people  for  the  mythical  heroes  of  its  own  creation,  it  accord- 
 ingly lacks  the  high  and  spiritual  quality  which  characterizes  the  creeds 
 of  more  modern  growth.  The  germ  from  which  it  grew  existed  in  hero- 
 worship.  Mythology  merging  into  history,  and  history  reaching  down  to 
 within  the  bounds  of  human  memor)-,  gave  occasion  for  the  establishment 
 of  that  essential  principle  of  Shintoism,  which,  as  we  have  pointed  out,  it 
 should  be  the  aim  of  the  investigator  to  discuss.  That  essential  principle 
 is  ancestor-worship — the  foundation  and  chief  characteristic  of  Shinto. 
 
 Although  in  itself  very  ancient,  its  name  of  Shinto  only  came  into  use 
 after  the  introduction  of  Buddhism  from  Korea  and  China,  in  the  middle 
 of  the  sixth  century  after  Christ,  as  a  means  of  distinguishing  between  the 
 old  system  and  tlie  newly-introduced  doctrine.  For  the  two  faiths  did  not 
 long  remain  sharply  differentiated,  but  soon  acquired  one  from  the  other 
 certain  minor  tenets  and  details  of  ritual,  the  mutual  exchange  of  which 
 had  the  effect  of  welding  them  into  the  one  mixed  religion  called  Ryobu- 
 Shinto.  The  characters  and  pronunciation  of  Shinto  are  therefore  Chinese  ; 
 and  even  the  earliest  works  from  which  information  concerning  the  faith 
 can  be  gleaned,  are  written  in  the  language  of  China. 
 
 The  meaning  of  the  word  Shinto  may  be  best  given  as  "The  way  of  the 
 Genii,  or  Spirits "  ;  in  Japanese,  Kami-no-inichi,  Kami  simply  signifying 
 superiority.     Thus  the  subjects  of  the  Japanese  sovereign  speak  of  him 
 
 9  J 
 
ICO  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 as  Kami,  and  servants  address  their  masters  in  the  same  way.  There  is 
 therefore  no  definite  sense  of  God  in  the  term;  and  although  tliere  are 
 eiglit  miUion  spirits  or  Genii  in  Shinto,  there  are  no  gods.  Likewise  the 
 term  I'olytheism  when  appUed  to  this  faith  is  a  misnomer,  for  the  Japanese 
 merely  believes  that  the  spirit  of  /nan  exists  after  death  in  an  undeified 
 state ;  and  it  is  therefore  to  his  own  ancestors,  from  reverential  motives, 
 and  to  the  nation's  heroes  from  admiration,  that  he  accords  his  worship. 
 
 Although  Shinto  is  usually  classed  among  religions,  it  can  hardly  be 
 said  to  merit  such  classification,  for  the  following  peculiarities  which  it 
 possesses  give  it  a  place  by  itself,  and  reduce  it  to  a  system  as  much 
 political  as  religious  : — 
 
 1.  Whilst  all  religious  creeds  have  their  sacred  books  and  their  moral 
 code,  Shinto  has  neither  of  these. 
 
 2.  Whereas  no  other  faith  is  bound  up  in  one  nationality,  Shinto  can 
 hardly  be  extended  beyond  the  bountlary  of  Japan,  or  to  others  than  the 
 subjects  of  the  Mikado. 
 
 3.  Shintoism  does  not  recognise  any  distinction  between  its  mythology 
 and  the  history  of  the  nation. 
 
 4.  It  treats  of  no  future  state,  beyond  uttering  the  bare  dogma  of  the 
 eternal  existence  of  spirits  ;  and  it  knows  neither  a  Paradise  nor  a  Hell. 
 
 5.  Whilst  all  other  religious  beliefs  are  theoretically  distinct  from  political 
 usage  and  institutions,  Shinto  embraces  the  Imperial  dynasty  of  Japan  as 
 part  of  its  Godhead,  if  such  a  term  may  be  used  in  this  connection. 
 
 The  consideration  of  these  five  points  renders  impossible  the  classification 
 of  Shinto  as  one  of  the  religions  of  the  world  ;  yet  it  may  be  allowed  to 
 stand,  in  a  more  limited  sense,  as  a  State  religion  of  Japan. 
 
 Although  it  abounds  in  ceremonies,  rituals,  and  deities  of  natural  objects, 
 such  as  trees,  rivers,  rocks,  mountains,  fire,  and  wood;  and  although 
 Hirata  has,  in  his  great  work  on  Shintoism,  elaborated  it  almost  into  a 
 bare  idolatry,  I  do  not  doubt  in  my  own  mind  that  it  has  lost  its  pristine 
 simplicit)',  and  has  become  corrupted  by  contact  with  metaphysical 
 Buddhism  and  other  neighbouring  religions.  The  true  element  of  Shinto, 
 in  my  opinion,  is  respect  or  reverence  of  ancestors  and  parents  ;  and  grant- 
 ing this,  it  follows  that  Filial  Piety  is  its  great  virtue.  Consequently  it 
 becomes  also  the  chief  characteristic  of  the  Japanese  people,  and  from  this 
 quality  spring  their  loyalty  and  patriotism. 
 
 As  time  progresses,  and  the  light  of  Western  advancement  sheds  its 
 searching  ray  over  the  country's  traditions,  the  credence  which  is  even 
 now,  to  some  extent,  given  to  the  national  mythology  will  be  withdrawn, 
 and  the  divinity  attaching  to  the  Imperial  dynasty  will  for  ever  lose  hold 
 in  the  minds  of  the  people.  But  although  this  devotion  to  the  head  of 
 the  State  become  a  thing  of  the  j^ast,  as  it  must,  being  prompted  of  igno- 
 rance, the  loyalty  of  the  masses  for  their  ICmpcror  will  never  wane.  For  it 
 is  a  fact  that  the  majority  of  Japanese  subjects  are  united  to  the  Imperial 
 family— the  oldest  family  in  Japan,  perhaps  in  the  world. 
 
SHIXTOISM.  loi 
 
 The  very  simi)liclty  of  Shintoism,  as  already  i:)ointed  out,  has  rendered 
 it  so  utterly  unlike  any  other  faith,  that  it  never  has,  nor  ever  will,  prove 
 hostile  to  a  religion  introduced  into  its  own  field,  so  long  as  no  resistance 
 is  offered  to  the  filial  and  loyal  piety  and  the  national  virtues  of  the  Land 
 of  the  Rising  Sun.  Even  when  Buddhism  had  found  its  way  into  the  State, 
 the  Emperor  and  Kmpress,  in  other  words,  the  great  Head  of  Shinto,  were 
 actually  the  first  to  take  an  active  part  in  its  ceremonies,  and  became 
 officiating  members,  at  the  same  tinle  putting  administrative  power  into 
 the  hands  of  iiuddhist  priests.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Buddhists,  from 
 purely  diplomatic  motives  however,  adopted  the  system  of  ancestor- 
 worship,  thereby  avoiding  friction,  inevitable  otherwise,  witli  the  govern- 
 mental pow-ers,  and  making  easy  converts  to  their  own  religion.  By  these 
 means  Buddhism  in  Japan  flourished  for  a  time.  Confucianism,  however, 
 offered  a  philosophy  more  suitable  perhaps  to  Japanese  tradition  and 
 feeling  ;  for  that  faith  taught  in  a  general  way  filial  and  loyal  piety  as  the 
 chief  virtue  of  humanity,  and  among  the  higher  and  more  educated  classes 
 the  doctrine  of  Confucius  was  firmly  held. 
 
 Again,  when  the  Portuguese  introduced  Christianity,  about  300  years 
 ago,  they  found  no  difficulty  in  establishing  their  Church  and  carrying  on 
 their  propaganda.  It  was  not  until  later,  when  the  preaching  of  the  Jesuits 
 was  thought  to  be  directed  against  the  devotion  paid  to  royalty,  that  the 
 Government  prohibited  the  dissemination  of  Christian  principles.  This 
 step  of  tlie  Japanese  authorities  led  to  the  outbreak  at  Shimabara,  and 
 hence  the  Christian  religion  was  interdicted  in  Japan,  and  continued  to 
 be  illegal  up  to  about  twenty  years  ago. 
 
 It  is  my  opinion,  therefore,  that  any  religion  may  be  established  in 
 Japan,  provided  it  does  not  interfere  with  the  practice  of  that  filial  and 
 loyal  piety  which  the  State  demands. 
 
 In  September,  1890,  the  Society  of  Science  held  its  meeting  at  Tokyo, 
 and  on  that  occasion  one  of  its  members,  Mr.  H.  Kato,  President  of  the 
 Imperial  University  of  that  town,  spoke  upon  the  subject  of  Shintoism, 
 saying  that  it  should  by  no  means  be  regarded  as  a  religion,  although  it 
 was  the  most  important  element  in  our  national  thought  and  feeling. 
 These  views  took  the  form  of  a  resolution,  which  was  carried  by  a  majority, 
 consisting  of  many  of  the  leading  men  of  science.  This  fact  clearly  shows 
 the  tendency  of  present  thought  regarding  Shintoism,  and  points  to  its 
 future  condition  as  a  strong  national,  but  not  religious  faith. 
 
 The  subject  of  Shintoism,  or  mythology  of  ancient  Japan,  and  the  history 
 of  Shintoism,  will  be  found  adequately  treated  by  many  English  authors, 
 notably  by  Mr.  Satow,  in  the  following  works  :  "  Shinto,"  "  Handbook  to 
 Japan,"  "The  Revival  of  Pure  Shinto,"  "The  Shinto  Temple  of  Ise," 
 "  Ancient  Japanese  Ritual,"  and  also  in  vols,  vii.,  ix.,  and  \.  of  "  The 
 Asiatic  Transactions." 
 
SHINTOISM  (2). 
 
 By  Mrs.  Bishop  (Isabella  Bird),  F.R.S.G.S. 
 
 Of  the  "  spiritual  centres  '  of  which  these  lectures  treat,  Shinto,  whicli 
 has  fallen  to  my  lot,  is  certainly  among  the  feeblest ;  and,  never  a  religion 
 in  the  highest  sense  of  the  word,  it  has  come  to  be  a  superstition  "  ready 
 to  vanish  away,''  and  deserves  our  notice  chiefly  as  being,  up  till  to-day, 
 the  national  religion  of  the  Japanese,  one  of  the  most  acute,  progressive, 
 and  materialistic  peoples  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
 
 Scholars  hesitate  to  decide  whether  Shinto  is  or  is  not  "a  genuine  pro- 
 duct of  Japanese  soil."  The  Japanese  call  their  ancient  religion  Kami  no 
 inichi  ("  The  way  of  the  gods  ") ;  foreigners  adopt  the  Chinese  form  of  the 
 same,  and  call  it  Shinto.  By  Shinto  is  meant  the  religion  which  was  found 
 spread  over  Japan  when  the  Buddhist  propagandists  arrived  in  the  si.xth 
 century  a.d.,  and  which  at  the  restoration  of  the  Mikado  (the  so-called 
 Spiritual  Emperor)  to  power  in  1868,  became  the  State  religion,  or,  to  use 
 our  own  phraseology,  the  Established  Church.  By  the  term  pure  S/ii/ito, 
 as  exhibited  in  the  shrines  of  Ise  and  elsewhere,  is  meant  tlie  ancient  faith 
 as  distinguished  from  that  mixture  of  it  with  Buddhism  and  Confucianism 
 known  as  Rci,i^ol>u  S/iinio,  which  encounters  the  traveller  everywhere  in  the 
 shape  of  gaily  decorated  lacc^uer  temples,  swarming  with  highly  coloured 
 and  grotesque  divinities  carved  in  wood. 
 
 Japanese  Shinto  cosmogony  and  mythology  are  one,  and  in  both  Japan 
 is  the  universe.  Shinto  has  three  legendary  mythical  periods,  during 
 which  the  islands  of  Japan  and  many  gods  came  into  being.  In  the  third 
 period  Amaterasu,  the  sun-goddess,  was  supreme.  This  "  heaven-lighting  " 
 divinity,  finding  that  Japan  was  disturbed  by  the  unending  feuds  of  the 
 earthly  gods,  among  whom  Okuniushi,  tlieir  ruler,  could  not  keep  order, 
 despatched  Ninigi,  a  heavenly  god,  to  Higa  in  central  Japan,  and  com- 
 l)elled  the  former  incompetent  divinity  to  resign  his  disorderly  rule  into 
 his  hands,  permitting  him,  however,  the  easier  task  of  ruling  the  Invisible, 
 while  Ninigi  and  his  successors,  the  Mikados,  have  continued  to  rule  the 
 Visible.  The  struggles  for  supremacy  between  the  gods  and  their  offspring 
 continued  to  afflict  the  Visible  till  660  i;.c.,  when  Jimmu  Tenno,  the  fifth 
 in  descent  from  the  sun-goddess,  overthrew  the  Kiushiu  rebels,  subjugated 
 a  large  portion  of  the  main  island,  and  settled  there  with  his  warriors. 
 This  legendary  event  is  the  dawn  of  Japanese  history,  and  the  starting- 
 point  of  Japanese  chronology.  The  7th  of  April  is  fixed  as  the  anniversary 
 of  Jimmu  Tenno's  accession  to  the  throne;  he  is  deified  and  worshipped 
 in  a  thousand  shrines,  and  from  him   tlic  jjresent   Mikado  claims  direct 
 
SHINTO  ISM.  103 
 
 descent  through  one  hundred  and  twenty  .Mikados  who  have  preceded 
 liim,  the  ''  divine  right  extending  yet  farther  back  through  five  generations 
 of  terrestrial  gods,  and  seven  of  celestial  to  the  great  sun-goddess,  from 
 whom  lie  inherits  the  Japanese  regalia— the  Mirror,  the  Sword,  and  the 
 .Stone.  The  Mikado  is  the  lineal  descendant  of  the  gods — nay,  he  is  him- 
 self a  god,  and  his  palace  is  a  temple.  His  heavenly  origin  has  been 
 through  all  historic  days  the  foundation  of  Japanese  government,  and  it, 
 and  the  duty  of  unquestioning  obedience  to  his  commands,  have  been  the 
 highest  of  Shinto  dogmas. 
 
 Between  97  and  30  n.c,  Sugin,  the  reigning  Mikado,  and  of  course  a 
 <lemi-god,  appeared  as  a  reformer,  called  on  the  people  to  worship  the 
 gods,  performed  a  symbolic  purification  for  the  nation,  built  special  shrines 
 for  the  worsliip  of  some  of  the  divinities,  removed  the  mirror,  sword  and 
 stone  from  the  palace  to  a  shrine  built  for  their  custody,  and  appointed 
 Iiis  daughter  their  priestess.  This  mirror  rested,  at  least  till  1871,  in  the 
 shrines  of  Ise,  of  which  I  shall  speak  presently. 
 
 In  the  middle  of  the  sixth  century  li.c,  as  is  supposed,  a  great  tide  of 
 religious  change  passed  over  Japan,  which  has  never  wholly  ebbed,  for 
 15uddliist  missionaries  from  Korea  proselytized  so  successfully  in  high 
 •  luarters  that  a  decree  was  issued  in  the  eighth  century  ordering  the  erection 
 of  two  Buddhist  temples  and  a  seven-storied  pagoda  in  every  province. 
 The  singular  supremacy  of  Buddhism,  however,  is  due  to  a  master-stroke 
 of  religious  policy  achieved  by  a  IJuddhist  priest  now  known  as  Robo- 
 (laishi,  who,  in  the  ninth  century,  in  order  to  gain  and  retain  a  hold  for  his 
 creed  over  the  mass  of  the  peoi)le,  taught  that  the  Shinto  gods  were  but 
 Japanese  manifestations  of  Ikiddha,  a  dogma  which  reconciled  the  foreign 
 and  native  religions,  and  gave  Buddhism  several  centuries  of  ascendency 
 over  both  Shinto  and  Confucianism,  till  it  was  supplanted  about  two  cen- 
 turies ago  in  the  intellects  of  the  educated  by  the  Chinese  philosophical 
 system  of  Choo  He,  which  in  its  turn  is  being  displaced  by  what  is  known 
 in  Japan  as  the  "  I'Lnglish  Philosophy,"  represented  by  Mill,  Herbert 
 Spencer,  and  others. 
 
 The  Buddha-izing  the  old  gods,  and  incorporating  the  ancient  traditions 
 of  the  divine  ancestors  and  early  heroes  of  the  Japanese  with  the  ethical 
 code  and  dogmas  of  Buddhism  much  watered  down,  produced  that  jumble 
 before  referred  to,  on  which  the  reigning  Mikado  bestowed  the  name  of 
 Kcigobn  S/u'/ito,  or  "  two-fold  religious  doctrine."  l^^rom  that  time  Buddhist 
 and  Shinto  priests  frequently  celebrated  their  ceremonies  in  the  same 
 temples,  the  distinctive  feature  of  Shinto,  the  absence  of  idols,  effigies,  and 
 other  visible  objects  of  worship  disappeared,  and  the  temples  became 
 crowded  with  wooden  images  of  the  Shinto  hero-gods,  alongside  of  those 
 of  Buddha  and  his  disciples,  only  a  very  few  shrines  retaining  the  sim- 
 plicity of  the  ancient  faith.  In  the  eighteenth  century  an  attempt  was 
 made  by  a  few  learned  and  able  men  to  revive  "  pure  Shinto,"  and  adapt 
 it  to  those  cravings  of  humanity  which  Buddhism  had  partially  met,  but  it 
 
I04  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OE   THE    WORLD. 
 
 failed,  and  has  resulted  mainly  in  affording  materials  for  the  researches  of 
 Mr.  Satow,  Mr.  Kemperman,  and  other  European  scholars. 
 
 At  the  restoration  of  the  Mikado  to  temporal  power  in  1868,  Buddhism 
 was  practically  "  disestablished,"  and  Shinto  reinstated  as  the  State  religion 
 owing  to  its  value  as  a  political  engine,  but  it  was  impossible  to  re-intro- 
 duce many  of  its  long-abandoned  usages  alongside  of  Western  civilization, 
 and  the  number  of  those  who  regard  its  divinities  with  anything  like 
 religious  reverence  is  very  small. 
 
 Since  that  year  the  images  and  the  gaudy  and  sensuous  paraphernalia  of 
 a  corrupted  Buddhism  have  been  swept  out  of  many  of  the  temples,  but 
 the  splendour  of  the  lacquer  and  arabesques  remains,  as  in  the  temples  of 
 Shiba  at  Vedo  and  the  shrines  of  Nikko  ;  and  the  primitive  simplicity  of 
 the  plain  wooden  structure  with  the  thatched  tent-roof  and  perfectly  bare 
 interior,  is  only  seen  in  the  Isc  shrines  and  in  some  other  places. 
 
 Three  thousand  seven  hundred  gods  are  known  to  have  shrines.  Each 
 hamlet  has  its  special  god  as  well  as  each  shrine,  and  each  god  has  his 
 annual  festival  or  merry-making,  while  many  have  particular  days  in  each 
 month  on  which  people  visit  their  shrines.  Every  child  is  taken  a  month 
 after  birth  to  the  shrine  of  the  district  in  which  he  is  born,  and  the  divinity 
 of  the  shrine  is  thenceforward  his  patron. 
 
 On  certain  occasions  the  priests  assemble  in  the  larger  temples  and 
 chant  certain  words  to  an  excruciating  musical  accompaniment,  but  this  is 
 in  no  sense  "public  worship  "  ;  and  indeed  worshippers  are  seldom  if  ever 
 admitted  within  Shinto  temples.  The  god  is  supposed  to  be  present  in 
 the  temple  dedicated  to  him,  and  the  worshipper  standing  outside  attracts 
 his  attention  by  pulling  the  cord  of  a  metal  globe,  half  bell,  half  rattle, 
 which  hangs  at  the  open  entrance.  The  act  of  worship  usually  consists  in 
 clapping  the  hands  twice  and  making  one  or  more  hasty  genuflexions, 
 and  people  make  pilgrimages  of  several  hundred  miles  to  the  most  cele- 
 brated shrines  to  do  no  more  than  this,  to  cast  a  few  of  the  smallest  of 
 bronze  coins  down  upon  the  temple  threshold,  and  to  buy  a  relic  or  charm. 
 The  festival  days  of  the  gods  of  the  larger  temples  are  occasions  of  much 
 gaiety  and  splendour.  They  are  celebrated  by  music,  dancing,  and  pro- 
 cessions, in  which  huge  and  highly  decorated  cars  take  part,  on  and  in 
 which  are  borne  certain  sacred  emblems  covered  with  gorgeous  antique 
 embroideries,  which  at  other  times  are  kept  in  the  temple  storehouses. 
 Ancient  classical  dancings  or  posturings  are  also  given  on  covered  plat- 
 forms within  the  temple  grounds,  and  in  these  a  maiden  invariably  appears 
 dressed  in  white,  and  bearing  a  wand  in  her  hand.  The  modern  Japanese 
 are  ignorant  of  the  meaning  and  history  of  nearly  all  the  public  Shinto 
 ceremonies. 
 
 In  travels  extending  for  several  months  in  the  interior  of  northern  Japan, 
 during  which  time  I  lived  altogether  among  the  people,  I  had  many  oppor- 
 tunities for  learning  what  Shinto  is  as  a  household  religion.  ]'>asy  and 
 unexacting  as  it  is  in  public,  it   is  not  less  so   in  private.      It   has  no 
 
snixnusAr.  105 
 
 penances,  no  deprivations,  and  no  frequent  and  difficult  observances. 
 Certain  ceremonies,  however,  are  invariably  attended  to.  In  every  Shint<> 
 house,  there  is  a  Kami-dana  or  god  shelf,  on  \Yhich  is  a  miniature  temi)le 
 in  wood,  which  contains  tablets  covered  with  paper,  on  which  are  written 
 the  names  of  the  gods  in  which  the  household  places  its  trust ;  and 
 monumental  tablets,  with  the  posthumous  names  of  the  ancestors  and 
 deceased  members  of  the  family.  Fresh  flowers,  and  specially  the  leafy 
 twigs  of  the  chyera  japonica  are  offered  there,  together  with  sake  (or  rice- 
 beer),  water,  and  a  minute  portion  of  the  rice  boiled  for  the  food  of 
 the  household.  'I'he  glow-worm  glimmer  of  the  small  lamps  which  are  lit  at 
 sunset  in  front  (;f  these  shrines,  is  one  of  the  evening  features  of  the  cities 
 of  Jai)an. 
 
 l<"orms  of  prayer  have  been  published  even  as  late  as  1873,  but  it  is 
 regarded  as  enough  to  frame  a  wish  without  uttering  it,  and  most  Shintoists. 
 content  themselves  with  turning  to  the  sun  in  the  early  morning,  rubbing 
 the  hands  slowly  together,  and  bowing.  The  directory  for  prayer  is, 
 "  Rising  early  in  the  morning,  wash  your  face  and  hands,  rinse  out  the 
 moulh,  and  cleanse  the  body.  Then  turn  to  the  province  of  Yaniato 
 (which  contains  the  shrines  of  Ise),  strike  the  palms  of  the  hands  together, 
 and  worship,"  i.e.  bow  to  the  ground.  It  may  interest  this  audience  to 
 hear  a  specimen  of  one  of  the  most  enlightened  of  the  old  Shinto  prayers, 
 translated  by  Mr.  Satow  from  a  book  put  forward  by  the  Mikado  Jimtoku 
 in  the  thirteenth  century,  and  which  is  still  used  on  rare  occasions  by  a 
 few  more  earnest  Shintoists.  "  I'rom  a  distance  I  reverently  worship  with 
 awe  before  Amono  Mi-hashira,  and  Kuni  no  Mi-hashira  (the  god  and 
 goddess  of  wind),  to  whom  is  consecrated  the  palace  built  with  stout 
 pillars  at  Tatsuta  no  Tachinu  in  the  department  of  Hcguri,  in  the  province 
 of  Yamato.  I  say  with  awe,  Deign  to  bless  me  by  correcting  the  unwilling 
 faults  which,  heard  and  seen  by  you,  I  have  committed,  by  blowing  off  and 
 clearing  away  the  calamities  which  evil  gods  might  inflict,  by  causing  me 
 to  live  long  like  the  hard  and  lasting  rock,  and  by  repeating  to  the  gods  of 
 heavenly  origin  and  the  gods  of  earthly  origin  the  petitions  which  I  present 
 every  day  along  with  your  breath,  that  they  may  hear  with  the  sharp-eared- 
 ness  of  the  forth-galloping  colt."  It  may  be  remarked  that  Shinto,  unlike 
 most  systems,  does  not  inculcate  the  practice  of  any  form  of  bribery  with 
 the  view  of  securing  the  good-will  of  the  gods. 
 
 Shinto  has  four  distinctive  emblems,  familiar  to  every  traveller  in  Japan — 
 the  iorii,  the  ^^ohci,  the  mirror,  and  the  rope.  The  torit,  though  sometimes 
 made  of  stone,  properly  consists  of  two  barked,  but  unpainted  tree-trunks 
 planted  in  the  ground,  on  the  top  of  which  rests  another  tree-trunk,  with  a 
 horizontal  l^eam  below.  The  name  means  "birds'  rest,"  for  on  it  the 
 fowls  offered,  but  not  sacrificed,  to  the  gods  were  accustomed  to  rest. 
 This  emblem  stands  at  the  entrance  of  temple  grounds,  in  front  of  shrines 
 and  sacred  trees,  and  in  every  place  specially  associated  with  the  native 
 divinities.      In    the   persecution   which  was  waged  against   the   Romish 
 
io6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 (Christians  some  time  ago,  the  token  of  recantation  required  was  that  they 
 should  pass  under  the  torii.  In  some  places,  as  at  the  great  Temple  of 
 the  Fox  at  Fushima,  there  are  avenues  composed  of  several  hundreds  of 
 these,  and  whether  large  or  small,  the  torii  is  a  favourite  ^.r  voto. 
 
 The  go/iei  is  a  slim  wand  of  unpainted  wood,  with  two  long  pieces  of 
 paper  notched  alternately  on  opi)Osite  sides  depending  from  it.  These 
 represent  offerings  of  rough  and  white  cloth,  which  were  supposed  to  have 
 the  effect  of  attracting  the  gods  to  the  place  where  they  were  offered,  but 
 have  come  to  be  popularly  regarded  as  gods  tliemselves.  Indeed,  they 
 seem  to  resemble  the  white  wands  with  dependent  shavings,  which  are  wor- 
 shipped by  the  Ainos  of  Ye/o,  who  are  by  many  regarded  as  the  remnant 
 of  the  aborigines  of  Japan. 
 
 In  many  Shinto  temples  a  circular  steel  mirror  is  the  only  object,  and 
 even  this  is  only  exposed  to  view  where  for  some  time  Shinto  has  been 
 jumbled  up  with  Buddhism.  Much  ingenious  rubbish  has  been  devised 
 to  account  for  the  presence  of  this  emblem,  and  a  few  fanciful  Western 
 writers  have  chosen  to  regard  it  as  symbolizing  Truth,  but  the  plain  fact  is 
 that  every  such  mirror  is  a  copy  of  that  which  has  rested  at  Ise  for  nearly 
 'two  thousand  years,  which  the  sun-goddess  presented  to  Ninigi  as  an 
 emblem  of  herself  when  she  sent  him  down  to  govern  the  world.  The 
 polished  surface  is  neither  a  mirror  of  truth  nor  of  the  human  soul,  but  is 
 simply  a  very  intelligible  symbol  of  a  rude  compound  of  nature  and  myth 
 worship,  of  nature  as  the  sun,  deified  and  personified  as  the  myth  Ama- 
 terasu  or  the  "sun-goddess." 
 
 The  last  emblem,  also  of  legendary  origin,  is  a  rope  of  rice  straw,  vary- 
 ing in  thickness  from  the  heavy  cable  which  often  hangs  across  a  torii,  or 
 temple  entrance,  to  that  no  thicker  than  a  finger,  which  is  suspended  across 
 house  doors  or  surrounds  sacred  trees,  and  which  has  straw  tassels  or  strips 
 of  white  paper  dangling  from  it. 
 
 The  true  Shinto  temple,  or  shrine,  is  of  unpainted  wood,  and  the  lenl- 
 like  roof  is  thickly  thatched.  The  floor  is  covered  with  thick  rice-straw 
 mats,  let  into  wooden  frames.  There  are  no  ornaments,  idols,  effigies,  or 
 ecclesiastical  paraphernalia  of  any  kind.  Plain  .i,v/^(7  and  minute  offerings 
 of  sake',  rice,  and  other  vegetable  food  on  unlacquered  wooden  trays,  and 
 some  sprigs  of  the  evergreen  deyera  jnpoiiica  alone  denote  the  use  of  the 
 barren  temple  of  a  barren  creed.  In  a  receptacle  behind  there  is  a  case 
 only  exposed  to  view  on  the  day  of  the  annual  festival,  and  this  is  said  to 
 contain  the  spirit  of  the  deity  to  whom  the  temple  is  dedicated,  "the 
 august  spirit  substitute." 
 
 There  are  about  ninety-eight  thousand  Shinto  shrines  in  Japan,  and 
 twenty  thousand  priests  or  slirine-keepers,  who  may  be  regarded  as  paid 
 officials  of  the  government.  Tiiese  are  allowed  to  marry,  and  do  not 
 shave  their  heads.  There  is  \s.\\  appropriation  of  ^58,000  annually  for  the 
 Shinto  religion.  In  the  restored  order  the  dejjartment  which  dealt  with 
 the  affairs  of  the  earthly  and  heavenly  gods  held  the  highest  place  in  the 
 
SHINTO  ISM.  107 
 
 scale  of  official  precedence  ;  but  in  1877,  or  in  less  than  ten  years,  it  sank 
 by  "leaps  and  bounds  "  to  the  indignity  of  being  transferred  to  a  sub- 
 department  of  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior! 
 
 The  traveller  in  Japan  meets  continually  with  bands  of  pilgrims  on  their 
 way  to  Ise,  the  centre  of  Shinto,  in  the  province  of  Yamato  in  Central 
 Japan.  Dismiss  from  your  minds  the  idea  of  austerity,  penance,  privation, 
 worship,  sanctity,  and  vows,  which  the  word  pilgrimage  conjures  up.  "A 
 pilgrimage"  to  Isc  is  the  greatest  frolic  and  holiday  of  the  year  or  the  life- 
 time, a  prolonged  i>icnic,  a  vast  merry-making.  In  spring  the  roads  are 
 thronged  with  bands  of  girls  and  companies  of  men  in  holiday  costume, 
 singing  and  laughing  ;  bowing  to  every  high  hill  and  every  large  tree,  visit- 
 ing theatres  and  shows;  and  after  throwing  their  coins  on  the  white  cloth 
 in  front  of  the  Isc  temples,  surrendering  themselves  to  the  pleasures  of 
 Yamada,  a  city  abounding  in  vicious  attractions. 
 
 The  two  temples  of  Ise,  the  Geku  and  the  Naiku,  called  by  a  name 
 which  signifies  "  the  two  great  divine  palaces,"  are  the  cradle  and  kernel 
 of  Shinto  ;  and  are  to  Shintoists,  even  in  the  irreligious  present,  in  a  slight 
 degree  something  of  what  Mecca  is  to  Mussulmans,  and  the  Holy  Places 
 of  Jerusalem  to  Greeks  and  Latins.  There  is  no  time  of  the  year  in 
 which  there  is  an  absolute  cessation  of  pilgrims,  and  though  the  artizans 
 of  Tokiyo  now  think  it  possible  to  gain  a  livelihood  without  beseeching 
 the  protection  of  the  Ise'  deities,  and  the  shopboys  of  the  trading  cities  no 
 longer  beg  their  way  to  Yamada  in  search  of  the  Ise  charms  ;  the  credu- 
 lous and  sim[)le  peasant  cannot  yet  feel  safe  without  the  paper  ticket  in- 
 scribed with  the  name  Ten-shoko-daijin  (the  principal  deity  of  Ise'),  which 
 is  obtainable  only  at  the  Isc  shrines.  Relics  of  Ise  are  in  every  house  ; 
 the  Ise  deities  are  at  the  head  of  the  national  Pantheon ;  the  pilgrimage 
 to  Ise  is  an  episode  in  the  life  of  every  Shintoist ;  and  from  north  to  south 
 thousands  of  heads  are  daily  bowed  in  the  direction  of  "The  Divine 
 Palaces  of  the  most  holy  gods  of  Ise." 
 
 Allusion  has  been  previously  made  to  the  fact  that  in  every  Japanese 
 household  there  is  a  "shelf  for  gods,"  on  which  is  a  shrine  containing  paper 
 tickets,  on  which  the  names  of  various  gods  are  written,  one  ot  which  is 
 always  Ten-shoko-daijin.  This  special  ticket  is  supposed  to  contain  be- 
 tween two  thin  slips  some  shavings  of  the  wands  used  by  the  priests  of  Ise 
 at  the  two  annual  festivals,  and  is  able  to  protect  its  possessor  from  mis- 
 fortune for  half  a  year,  at  the  end  of  which  time  the  o-harai,  as  it  is  called, 
 ought  to  be  changed  for  a  new  one ;  but  modern  carelessness  is  content  to 
 renew  the  charm  once  in  two  or  three  years  or  longer.  The  old  tickets 
 ought  to  be  burned  or  cast  into  a  river  or  the  sea,  but  are  usually  employed 
 to  heat  the  bath  used  by  the  maiden  priestesses,  so-called  after  their  pos- 
 ture dances  at  the  annual  festival  of  the  patron  god  of  any  locality..  The 
 fact  of  the  universal  distribution  of  these  o-harai  connects  every  family  m 
 Japan  with  the  Ise  shrines  and  Shinto  superstition.  Up  to  1868,  the 
 v-harai  were  hawked  about  Japan,  but  the  government  subsequently  pro- 
 
io8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Mbited  the  practice,  and  now  tliey  can  only  be  obtained  at  the  Ise  shrines 
 themselves,  or  at  certain  accredited  agencies. 
 
 The  two  groups  of  shrines  are  three  miles  and  a  half  from  each  other,  at 
 Furuichi  and  Yamato,  which  towns  are,  for  Japan,  marvels  of  solid  and 
 picturesque  building,  and  are  made  up  chiefly  of  inns,  tea-houses,  shops 
 for  the  sale  of  ex  votos  and  Shinto  toys  and  relics,  and  places  of  vicious 
 attractions.  The  shrines  are  exact  copies  of  each  other,  and  both  stand  in 
 the  midst  of  ancient  cryptonieria,  each  stately  tree  in  Shinto  fancy  worthy 
 to  be  a  god  ;  but  it  is  the  camphor  groves,  the  finest  in  Japan,  covering 
 the  extensive  and  broken  grounds  with  tlieir  dark  and  unique  magnificence, 
 which  so  impress  a  stranger  as  to  make  him  forget  for  a  moment  the  bare- 
 ness and  meanness  of  the  shrines  which  they  overshadow. 
 
 'I'he  grand  entrance  to  the  Cieku  shrine  is  reached  from  Yamato  by 
 crossing  a  handsome  bridge  over  the  river  Izuzu,  in  which  the  pilgrims 
 wash  their  hands  before  going  to  the  temple.  On  the  other  side  is  a  wide 
 space  enclosed  by  stone-faced  banks.  On  the  right  there  is  a  building 
 used  by  the  temple  attendants,  where  fragments  of  the  wood  used  for  the 
 shrines,  packets  of  the  rice  offered  to  the  gods,  and  other  charms  are  sold. 
 The  entrance  to  the  actual  temple  grounds  is  under  a  massive  torii.  These 
 grounds  are  of  great  extent,  and  contain  hills,  ravines,  groves,  and  streams. 
 Broad  and  finely-gravelled  roads  with  granite  margins  and  massive  stone 
 lanterns  intersect  them,  and  their  lorii  stone  bridges,  stone  staircases,  and 
 stone-faced  embankments  are  all  on  a  grand  scale  and  in  perfect  repair. 
 AVithin  the  entrance  are  some  plain  buildings,  one  of  which  is  occupied  by 
 several  temple  attendants  dressed  in  white  silk,  whose  business  it  is  to  sell 
 the  P-Jiarai  to  all  comers.  Heavy  curtains  with  the  Mikado's  crest  upon 
 them,  draped  over  the  entrance,  may  be  taken  as  indicating  that  Shinto  is 
 under  "  State"  patronage. 
 
 Passing  through  stately  groves  by  a  stately  road,  and  under  another 
 stately  torii,  the  visitor  reaches  the  famous  (leku  shrine,  but  to  be  stricken 
 by  a  pang  of  intense  disappointment,  for  he  is  suddenly  brought  up  by  a 
 great  but  utterly  unimposing  oblong  enclosure  of  neatly  planed  wood — the 
 upright  posts,  which  are  nine  feet  high,  being  planted  at  distances  of  six 
 feet,  and  the  intervals  filled  up  with  closely  fitting  and  very  heavy  planking 
 laid  horizontally.  The  enclosure  rests  on  a  platform  of  broken  stone  raised 
 on  a  stone  embankment  three  feet  high.  It  measures  247  by  339  feet. 
 It  has  five  entrances,  four  of  which  are  always  closed  by  solid  gates,  while 
 the  fifth  is  a  torii^  with  a  high  wooden  screen  at  a  distance  of  seventy-six 
 feet  from  it  in  front.  Within  the  fo7-iih  a  wooden  gateway  with  a  thatched 
 roof,  but  a  curtain  with  the  Mikado's  crest  conceals  all  view  of  the  interior 
 court.  It  is  in  front  of  this  gateway  that  the  pilgrims  from  every  part  of 
 Ja[)an  throw  down  their  copper  coins  upon  a  white  cloth.  Then  they  bow 
 a  few  times,  and  depart  satisfied. 
 
 Three  courts  with  torii  :vvl(\  thatched  gateways  are  contained  within  this 
 outer  enclosure,  the  central   one,  an  area  of  134  feet  by   131,  being  sur- 
 
SHJATdlSM.  1C9 
 
 rounded  by  a  very  stout  palisade.  It  must  be  observed  that  there  is  no 
 access,  except  on  tlie  festival  day,  even  into  the  first  enclosure,  but  a  good 
 view  is  obtained  from  a  bank  on  the  west  side.  This  innermost  enclosure 
 contains  the  s/ioden  or  slirine  of  the  gods,  a  building  thirty-four  feet  long 
 by  eighteen  wide,  mounted  on  a  platform  raised  on  posts  six  feet  high.  A 
 balcony  three  feet  wide  runs  round  the  building,  and  is  covered  by  the 
 eaves  of  the  roof,  which  is  finely  thatched  with  bark  to  the  depth  of  a  foot. 
 This  s/ioJen,  like  all  else,  is  of  jilaned  wood,  without  ornament.  It  con- 
 tains four  boxes  of  unpainted  wood,  furnished  with  white  handles  and 
 covered  with  what  is  said  to  be  white  silk.  In  each  box  is  a  mirror  wrapped 
 in  a  brocade  bag.  This  is  all,  the  kernel  of  the  Shinto  "  Holy  of  Holies." 
 These  mirrors  are  never  seen,  and  even  the  boxes  which  contain  them  are 
 covered  with  curtains  of  coarse  silk  when  the  shrines  are  open  on  festival 
 <lays.  Two  treasures  stand  on  the  right  and  left  of  the  shodcii^  and  con- 
 tain silken  stuffs,  silk  fibre,  and  saddling  for  tlie  sacred  horses,  which 
 are  usually  albinos.  The  impression  produced  by  a  visit  to  Ise  is  akin  to 
 that  made  upon  the  minds  of  those  who  have  made  the  deepest  researches 
 into  Shinto — that  there  is  nothing  ;  and  that  all  things,  even  the  stately 
 uvenues  of  the  (ieki'i  shrine,  lead  to — Nothing  !  Glorious  are  the  cam- 
 phor groves  of  Ise,  and  bright  the  skies  of  Vamato ;  but  no  sunshine  can 
 light  the  awful  melancholy  of  the  unutterable  emptiness  of  the  lioliest 
 places  of  Shinto. 
 
 Having  briefly  traced  Shinto  from  remote  antiquity  to  the  Ise  shrines, 
 its  claims  to  be  a  religion  and  a  '•  spiritual  centre  "  remain  to  be  as  briefly 
 considered.     It  must  be  remembered  that  Shinto  has  been  for  twelve  cen- 
 turies in   close   contact  with  Buddhism  ;  and,  corrupt  and   degenerate  as 
 Japanese  Buddhism  is,  the  lotus   blossom  in   its  temples  still  symbolizes 
 righteousness ;  and  tlie  pictured  torments  of  its  many  hells  still  assert  that 
 moral  evil  perpetuates  itself  beyond  the  grave.     Christianity  also,  which 
 promises  to  be  an  important  element  in  the  religious  future  of  Japan,  has 
 touched  Shinto  at  many  points  during   many  years  with  its  lofty  teaching 
 that  "  pure  religion  before  (Jod  and  the  Father  is  this,  to  visit  the  fatherless 
 and  the  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep  oneself  unspotted  from  the 
 world."     It  does  not  appear,  however,  that  either  Buddhism  or  Christianity 
 has,  in  an  ethical  sense,  influenced  the  native  faith.     "  Sin  "  is  stated  on 
 high  authority  to  be  "  the  transgression  of  the  law,"  and  "  where  no  law  is 
 there  is  no  transgression."     Shinto   has  no  law,  and  consequently  no  sin. 
 It  has  no  ethical  code.      Xaotaore,  its  modern  exponent  and  revivalist, 
 emphatically  states  that  "  to  have  acquired  the  knowledge  that  there  is  no 
 iiiichi  (ethics)  to  be  practised  and  learned  is  really  to  have  learned  to  prac- 
 tise the  way  of  the  gods."  This  lack  of  moral  teaching  makes  it  powerless  as 
 a  religion,  even  among  a  people  of  such  easy  morals  as  the  Japanese.     Mr, 
 Mori,  the  late  Minister  of  the  Interior,  gives  it  as  his  opinion  that   "  the 
 leading  idea  of  Shinto  is  a  reverential  feeling  towards  the  dead."     Kaemp- 
 fer,  one  of  the  most  painstaking  and  accurate  of  observers,  wrote  thus,  after 
 
no  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 elaborate  investigations  :  "The  whole  system  of  Shinto  is  so  mean  and 
 simple,  that  besides  a  heap  of  fabulous  and  romantic  stories  of  their  gods, 
 demi-gods,  and  heroes,  their  divines  have  nothing  wherewith  to  satisfy  the  in- 
 quiries of  curious  persons  about  the  nature  and  essences  of  their  gods,  about 
 their  power  and  government,  about  the  future  state  of  the  soul,  and  such  other 
 essential  points  whereof  other  heathen  systems  are  not  altogether  silent." 
 
 There  is  no  teaching  concerning  a  future  state,  no  hell  or  purgatory  for 
 bad  men,  or  heaven  for  good  men.  A  vague  assumption  of  the  immortality 
 of  the  soul  arising  out  of  a  vague  belief  in  the  immortality  of  the  gods,  and 
 a  rude  A^alhalla  of  victories  and  feasting  in  the  company  of  ancestors  and 
 heroes  of  the  past,  constitute  the  vague  future  of  the  Shintoist.  Shinto  has 
 no  worship  properly  so  called,  no  sacrifices,  no  idol  worship,  and  no  priest- 
 craft. The  intervention  of  a  i)riest  is  not  ordinarily  needed,  for  there  are 
 no  specially  merciless  deities  to  propitiate,  no  terrors  of  hell  to  avert,  and 
 both  sexes  are  capable  of  offering  prayers.  Such  is  the  negative  side.  Its 
 claim  to  be  a  religion  rests  almost  solely  on  its  deification  of  heroes,  em- 
 perors, and  great  men,  and  of  sundry  forces  and  objects  in  nature  ;  on  its 
 inculcating  reverence  for  ancestors  and  imitation  of  their  worthy  deeds ; 
 and  on  its  recognition  of  certain  national  ceremonial  defilements  and  forms 
 of  purification. 
 
 The  number  of  its  deities  is  practically  unlimited,  or  "  eight  millions," 
 and  includes  heroes,  rivers,  mountains,  waterfalls,  and  big  trees.  There 
 are  gods  of  all  things — of  learning,  happiness,  protection  of  human  abodes, 
 of  harvest,  of  horse-shoes,  of  the  gate,  the  well,  the  kitchen  fireplace,  and 
 everything  else  to  which  superstitions  of  unknown  origin  are  attached  by 
 the  ignorant ;  but  to  none  of  these  gods  are  high  or  noble  qualities  attri- 
 buted, far  less  any  of  those  which  we  regard  as  the  "  attributes  "  of  deity. 
 The  best  which  can  be  said  of  the  Shinto  gods  is  that  their  worship  has 
 never  been  associated  with  bloody  sacrifices  or  cruel  or  immoral  rites. 
 Of  the  gods  of  this  vast  Pantheon,  many  are  merely  local  divinities,  but 
 the  worship  of  the  gods  of  Isc,  the  "  goddess  of  Food  "  and  the  "  sun  god- 
 dess "  of  the  "  Thousand-armed  Kwanyon,"  the  goddess  of  "  JMercy," 
 whose  ciilttts  was  brought  from  China  by  the  Buddhist  propagandists  ;  of 
 Daikoku,  the  god  of  wealth ;  and  of  Binzuru,  the  medicine  god,  is  univer- 
 sal in  the  empire.  Binzuru,  the  medicine  god,  is  usually  a  red  lacc^uer 
 figure  of  a  man  seated,  and  much  defaced  by  the  rubbings  of  centuries. 
 'I'o  any  specially  celebrated  image  of  Binzuru  the  afilicted  make  pilgrim- 
 ages, rub  the  afflicted  part  of  their  own  persons  and  the  corresponding  part 
 of  the  god,  and  then  rub  themselves  again.  Daikoku  is  the  prince  of 
 household  gods.  No  family  in  Japan  is  without  his  image.  This  god, 
 who  leads  all  men,  and  possibly  fools  most,  is  represented  as  jolly  and 
 roguish-looking.  He  is  short  and  stout,  wears  a  cap  like  the  cap  of  Liberty, 
 is  seated  on  rice-bags,  holds  a  mallet  in  his  right  hand,  and  with  his  left 
 clutches  the  mouth  of  a  sack  which  he  carries  over  his  shoulder.  All  who 
 have  their  living  to  make  incessantly  proi)itiate  Daikoku  ;  he  is  never  with- 
 
SniNTOJSM.  1 1 1 
 
 out  offerings  and  incense,  and  if  there  be  a  shadow  of  intensity  in  Shinto 
 devotion,  it  is  thrown  into  his  worship. 
 
 Infalhbility  on  the  part  of  the  head  of  a  State,  in  virtue  of  his  Divine 
 descent,  was  a  convenient  doctrine  for  pohtical  purposes  in  Japan,  but 
 cannot  stand  as  an  institution  of  government  against  the  rapidly  spreading 
 tide  of  pohtical  ideas  from  Europe.  I  am  ahiiost  inchned  to  speak  of 
 Shinto  as  the  State  rehgion  in  the  past  tense,  for  the  hundred  and  twenty- 
 first  Mikado  has  voluntarily  abdicated  his  absolute  sovereignty,  the  gift  of 
 the  sun-goddess,  and,  in  promulgating  a  constitution  for  the  Japanese 
 Empire,  has  descended  into  the  ranks  of  constitutional  rulers.  In  this 
 descent  Shinto  must  receive  its  deathblow.  As  a  religion,  anyhow,  it  is 
 nearly  extinct.  Western  science  has  upset  its  cosmogony,  and  Western 
 philosophy  its  mythology  ;  it  survives  as  a  bundle  of  harmless  superstitions, 
 n  fading  folk-lore,  fondly  clung  to  as  such  by  the  unenlightened  peasantry. 
 Without  a  ritual,  a  moral  code,  or  the  rudest  elements  of  a  creed  ;  with  its 
 lack  of  sensuousness,  as  well  as  of  teachings  regarding  a  future  state,  it 
 never  had  power  as  a  spiritual  centre,  and  yielded  easily  to  the  ascendency 
 of  Buddhism.  It  is  hollow  and  empty,  it  has  nothing  in  it  to  stir  man's 
 deepest  nature.  It  appeals  to  no  instincts  of  good  or  evil,  and  promises  no 
 definite  destiny,  and  all  attempts  to  resuscitate  it,  either  as  a  bulwark 
 against  Christianity  or  as  a  substitute  for  lUiddhism,  must  inevitably  fail. 
 In  the  words  of  a  poet — 
 
 •'  It  sliall  pass  .as  a  camp  that  is  struck,  as  a  lent  lliat  is  gathered  and  gone, 
 From  the  sands  that  were  lamp-lit  at  eve,  and  at  morning  are  level  and  lone." 
 
 These  notes  arc  the  merest  outline  of  Shinto,  but  the  most  elaborate 
 treatise  could  do  no  more  than  successfully  demonstrate  its  utter  emptiness 
 of  all  that  to  our  ideas  constitutes  religion,  and  excite  surprise  that  it  should 
 still  retain  e\cn  a  nominal  place  among  a  people  so  quickwitted  as  the 
 Japanese. 
 
 This  easiest  and  least  exacting  of  religions  is  vanishing  away  :  and  now 
 — what  will  satisfy  the  spiritual  cravings  which  Buddhism  and  Christianity 
 have  awakened,  and  who  will  mould  the  religious  future  of  Japan  ?  Will  it 
 be  the  ascetic  and  philosophic  Sakyamuni,  dead  for  two  thousand  years, 
 and  serene  for  ever  in  his  golden  shrine,  ofitering  a  passionless  nonentity  as 
 the  goal  of  righteousness  ?  or  will  it  be  Jesus  the  crucified  Nazarene,  hold 
 ing  in  His  i^ierced  hands  the  gift  of  an  immortality  of  consecrated  activities, 
 the  best  hope  of  the  weary  ages — to  whom,  as  the  Crowned  and  Risen 
 Christ,  through  centuries  of  slow  and  painful  progress,  all  Christendom  has 
 bent  the  adoring  knee,  and  who  shall  yet  reign  in  righteousness.  King  of 
 kings  and  Lord  of  lords  ? 
 
HINDUISM. 
 
 By  Sir  Alfred  Lyall. 
 
 Popular  Hinduism,  which  is  the  subject  of  this  article,  is  the  religion  of 
 some  170  millions  of  the  inhabitants  of  India;  and  the  word  Hindu 
 means,  not  only  an  Indian  by  birtli,  but  also  and  more  particularly,  a 
 person  belonging  to  this  religion.  It  is  of  course  impossible  to  give  in  a 
 few  pages  more  than  an  outline  of  the  general  features  and  character  of  so 
 great  a  system  of  beliefs  and  practices. 
 
 To  begin  with  a  very  loose  and  broad  definition,  Hinduism  may  be 
 described  roughly  as  the  religion  of  all  the  people  who  accept  the  Brah- 
 manic  scriptures — the  sacred  books  and  traditions — as  orthodox  and 
 inspired  ;  who  adore  the  Brahmanic  gods,  their  principal  incarnations  and 
 their  symbolic  manifestations  ;  who  venerate  the  cow,  observe  certain  rules 
 of  caste  in  regard  to  marriage  and  the  sharing  of  food,  follow  a  ritual 
 prescribed  by  the  Brahmans,  and  go  to  that  priesthood  for  all  the 
 essential  forms  and  ceremonies  connected  with  birth,  matrimony,  or  death. 
 This  is  the  general  agreement ;  these  are  the  binding  rules  which  unite  the 
 vast  population  which  is  called  Hindu  ;  but  we  must  nevertheless  be 
 cautious  about  taking  the  word  Hindu  to  mean,  like  the  word  ^lahomme- 
 dan,  a  formal  creed  or  a  uniform  faith.  For  the  Hindus  are  divided  and 
 marked  off  into  manifold  interior  diversities  of  worship  and  popular  super- 
 stitions, belonging  to  different  ages  and  different  grades  of  their  society  ; 
 they  have  a  great  Pantheon  of  deities ;  they  have  an  extensive  mythology ; 
 their  ritual  varies  incessantly  with  the  places  at  which  it  is  practised  and 
 the  gods  to  which  it  is  addressed. 
 
 The  first  thing,  then,  to  bear  in  mind  is  tliat  Hiiidiiisin  includes 
 many  kinds  and  modes  of  worship  addressed  to  an  immense  number  of 
 ij'ods,  estimated  by  millions,  of  whom  the  superior  class  and  the  most 
 famous  are  Brahmanic  and  orthodox,  whom  every  one  more  or  less 
 recognises ;  while  the  inferior  and  far  more  numerous  class  includes 
 a  great  many  deities,  local,  tribal,  and  connected  with  certain  sects  and 
 even  professions.  All  tlicse  deities,  with  the  addition  of  a  host  of  demi- 
 j^ods,  divine  saints  or  heroes,  and  miraculous  personages  generally,  are  in 
 one  sense  below  and  separate  from  the  chief  divinities  of  Brahmanic 
 Hinduism,  and  yet  more  or  less  remotely  connected  with  them. 
 
 The  second  thing  to  remember  is  that  Hinduism  has  another  charac- 
 teristic, one  well  known  as  belonging  to  almost  all  early  religions  ;  it  has 
 a  set  of  outward  forms  and  fables  for  the  crowd  and  a  different  inner 
 meaning   and  significance  for  the    initiated,  -  for  all    those   who    inquire 
 
HINDUISM.  113 
 
 fuilhtr,  wlio  are  not  content  to  remain  in  the  outer  courts  of  the  temple. 
 The  outer  shape  is  a  very  fantastic  polytheism,  the  worship  of  innumerable 
 divine  beings,  tlirough  their  images  and  emblems,  by  a  ritual  that  is  often 
 not  very  pure.  The  inner  meaning  and  explanation  is  what  is  called 
 Pantheism  ;  that  is,  the  doctrine  that  all  the  countless  deities,  and  all  the 
 great  forces  and  operations  of  nature,  such  as  the  wind,  the  rivers,  the 
 earthfjuakes,  the  pestilences,  are  merely  direct  manifestations  of  the  all- 
 pervading  divine  energy,  which  shows  itself  in  numberless  forms  and 
 manners.  They  hold  that  man  himself  is  but  the  vessel  which  contains 
 the  divine  particle,  which  gives  thought  and  utterance  to  visible  humanity; 
 their  doctrine  is  that  God  is  substantially  identical  with  Nature,  so  that  in 
 worshipjjing  Nature,  whether  animate  or  inanimate,  you  actually  worship 
 God,  and  in  adoring  the  idol  you  show  reverence  to  the  symbol  or 
 emblem  of  divinity.  This  is  the  Hindu  system  of  explaining  all  natural 
 works  and  wonders,  of  defending  the  direct  worship  of  the  elements,  or  of 
 animals,  or  even  of  sticks  and  stones,  and  of  justifying  idolatry  as  a  help 
 to  popular  devotion.  And  this  explanation  is  universally  accepted  by  all 
 intelligent  Hindus.  A  still  deeper  secret  is  that  the  whole  world  as  per- 
 ceived by  our  senses  is  an  illusion. 
 
 'I'he  character  of  Hinduism  may  be  to  a  great  degree  explained  by  the 
 political  condition  and  history  of  the  country  in  which  it  has  grown  up. 
 The  Indian  population  is  a  vast  composite  mass  of  various  tribes  and 
 nations  in  tliffcrcnt  stages  of  civilization,  living  under  diverse  forms  of 
 government.  Over  this  poi)ulation,  as  a  whole,  no  single  ruler,  civil  or 
 religious,  not  even  the  Brahmanic  jiriesthood,  has  ever  acquired  complete 
 control.  This  accounts  for  much  of  the  loose  organization  of  the  religion, 
 the  absence  of  law  or  orderly  arrangement  or  definite  form. 
 
 Our  first  attempt  to  examine  Hinduism  only  shows  us  at  the  first  glance 
 a  tangled  jungle  of  disorderly  superstitions;  we  see  demons,  demi-gods 
 and  deified  persons  ;  we  see  household  gods,  tribal  gods,  local  gods, 
 universal  gods,  with  their  countless  shrines  and  temples  and  their  rites  of 
 every  sort  and  fashion  ;  we  see  deities  who  abhor  a  fly's  death  and  deities 
 who  are  still  supposed  to  delight  in  human  victims,  and  gods  who  will 
 have  neither  sacrifice  nor  l)urnt  offering  ;  we  see  in  short  a  kind  of  religious 
 chaos.  We  have  been  so  much  accustomed  in  Europe  to  associate  any 
 great  religion  with  the  idea  of  a  church,  and  of  regular  formal  creeds, 
 that  we  find  it  hard  to  realize  the  existence  of  an  ancient  religion,  still 
 alive  and  powerful,  which  is  on  the  surface  a  mere  troubled  sea,  driven  to 
 and  fro  by  the  winds  of  boundless  credulity  and  grotesque  invention. 
 
 These  preliminary  remarks  may  serve  to  explain  why  it  is  so  difficult  for 
 me  to  give  in  the  course  of  a  single  essay  any  definite,  orderly  and  easily 
 comprehensible  account  of  popular  Hinduism  as  it  actually  prevails  in  India. 
 Its  character  is,  as  has  been  said,  astonishing  variety  in  the  objects  of  worship 
 and  in  the  manner  of  worshipping ;  and,  moreover,  these  things  differ  in 
 diff'erent  parts  of  the  country,  while  changes  are  constantly  going  on.     In 
 
 vol-.    I.  1 
 
114  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 such  a  system,  where  the  most  unvarnished  idolatry  is  found  mixed  up 
 more  or  less  with  a  deep  philosophy,  it  would  be  impossible  to  classify 
 accurately  all  its  features ;  so  that  no  more  than  general  notions  and  a 
 rough  outline  can  be  here  given. 
 
 To  begin,  then,  all  Hindu  life  falls  generally  within  the  framework  of 
 caste.  I  mean  that  every  Hindu  belongs,  as  such,  to  some  one  of  the 
 very  numerous  groups  into  which  the  whole  multitude  is  sorted  out.  But 
 caste  is  not  the  exact  translation  of  the  Indian  term  ;  it  is  an  European 
 word  (Portuguese)  applied  rather  broadly  to  these  separate  groups  or  circles, 
 of  which  the  members  all  eat  and  intermarry  with  each  other,  and  as  a 
 rule  do  not  marry  with  outsiders.  Caste,  however,  is  much  more  exactly 
 connected  with  differences  of  race  or  profession  than  with  diversities  of 
 religious  belief,  although  the  laws  of  caste,  like  all  other  laws  among 
 Hindus,  are  settled  and  expounded  by  Brahmans. 
 
 Into  the  question  of  the  origin  and  working  of  the  system  of  caste  I 
 cannot  now  enter,  beyond  referring  to  the  four  great  caste  divisions,  which 
 are  mentioned  in  the  sacred  books.  The  ist  is  the  Brahmanic  or  priestly 
 caste  j  the  2nd  consists  of  warriors  ;  the  3rd  of  merchants  ;  and  the  4th, 
 called  Siidras,  comprise  all  other  miscellaneous  subdivisions  of  Hindus. 
 But  of  these  only  the  Brahmans  now  represent  a  real  caste  or  separate 
 group  in  Hindu  Society  ;  the  others  do  not  actually  exist,  are  not  practically 
 in  use,  as  distinct  classes  of  the  people  ;  for  the  mass  of  the  Hindu  popu- 
 lation is  divided  into  a  very  great  number  of  castes,  sects,  and  tril)es.  The 
 Brahman,  however,  does  exist  as  a  separate  and  superior  caste  ;  he  is  the 
 Levite  of  India.  I  mean  that  the  Brahmans  are  the  hereditary  possessors  and 
 guardians  of  all  sacred  learning  and  tradition.  The  Brahman  is  the  priest 
 whose  offices  are  indispensable  at  all  the  important  moments  of  life, — at 
 birth,  marriage,  and  funeral;  and  it  is  the  Brahmanic  caste  that  has 
 invented  and  keeps  up  the  elaborate  ceremonial  and  apparatus  of  the 
 religion,  and  that  studies  and  expounds  the  Hindu  scriptures.  If,  then, 
 we  must  attempt  some  preliminary  definition  of  Hinduism,  we  may 
 venture  to  call  it  the  collection  of  rites,  worships,  beliefs,  traditions,  and 
 mythologies  that  are  sanctioned  by  the  sacred  books  and  ordinances  of  the 
 Brahmans  and  are  propagated  by  Brahmanic  teaching.  And  a  Hindu  is 
 one  who  generally  follows  the  rules  of  conduct  and  ceremonial  thus  laid 
 down  for  him,  particularly  regarding  food  and  marriage,  and  the  adoration 
 of  the  gods. 
 
 I  will  not  do  more  than  touch  u])on  the  Brahmanic  scriptures.  The 
 Vedas  are  the  earliest  and  most  sacred  books,  of  universal  authority  and 
 great  antiquity.  Vedic  literature,  according  to  the  summary  given  by  Sir 
 Monier  Williams,  consists  of  three  divisions-  Texts  and  Metrical  Hymns  ; 
 Rules  of  Ritual  and  A\''orsIiip ;  Mystical  Doctrines.  The  Vedas  were 
 revealed  to  the  Rishis  or  inspired  saints,  and  by  them  committed  to 
 writing.  The  Hindu  religion,  as  it  is  now  represented  and  practised,  is, 
 I  believe,  mainly  founded   on  the  Puranas,  a   word  which  means  ancient 
 
HINDUISM.  115 
 
 \vritings.  'I'heso  writings  give  an  account  of  the  various  gods  of  Hinduism 
 and  certain  legends  of  the  world's  creation  and  its  successive  ages.  I 
 must  now  attempt  to  give  some  description — it  will  be  very  imperfect — of 
 the  divinities  worshipped  by  the  Hindus.  There  are,  as  is  generally 
 known,  three  supreme  gods  :  Brahma,  Vishnu,  and  Siva ;  and  we  may 
 conceive  these  three  mightiest  deities  at  the  summit  and  highest  pin- 
 nacles of  the  whole  fabric ;  and  below  them,  sometimes  proceeding  out 
 of  them  as  incarnations  or  re-appearances,  sometimes  connected  with 
 them  as  manifestations  or  symbols,  or  as  their  wives  and  subordinate 
 attendants,  a  whole  host  of  minor  deities,  said  to  be  in  all  three  hundred 
 millions.  Nothing  like  this  number  are  actually  worshipped  ;  but  beside 
 the  regular  and  traditional  gods  there  is  certainly  an  innumerable  crowd  of 
 demi-gods  and  deified  people,  to  whom  I  will  go  back  again  presently. 
 
 1  will  first  take  the  great  'iriad  of  Hrahma,  Vishnu  and  Siva.  Of  Brahma, 
 there  is  little  to  say.  He  is  usually  described  as  the  Creator,  the  Self-exist- 
 ent ;  and  it  is  supposed  that  he  stands  for  the  original  creative  intelligence 
 which  produced  the  visible  universe,  so  to  speak,  out  of  nothing.  But  he 
 is  rather  a  philosophic  conception,  made  by  way  of  obtaining  a  starting-point 
 for  the  whole  system,  more  than  a  divinity  who  has  any  further  concern  in 
 the  o[)eration  of  the  machinery  that  has  been  set  in  motion  by  his  will.  His 
 infiuence  is  thus  loo  remote,  and  his  functions  are  too  vague,  to  impress  the 
 popular  imagination,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact  he  has  very  few  temples.  The 
 whole  multitude  of  devout  orthodox  Hindus  is  divided  generally  into  wor- 
 shippers of  Vishnu,  and  worshippers  of  Siva,  but  these  two  great  divisions 
 bear  no  more  love  to  each  other  thau  sects  usually  do.  Vishnu  is  a  more 
 important  and  wide-ruling  deity,  rei)resenting  several  great  and  far-spread 
 religious  ideas.  He  is  the  supreme  preserver  of  things,  and  his  wife, 
 Lakshmi  typifies  plenty  and  prosperity.  In  his  highest  form  he  is  pictured 
 as  in  a  state  of  blissfiil  repose  and  you  may  here  notice  that  the  supreme 
 type  of  all  the  highest  Hindu  divinities  is  tranquillity,  not  activity. 
 Vishnu  in  repose  shadows  forth  the  Eternal  Spirit ;  but,  unlike  Brahma, 
 \'ishnu  can  be  awakened  l^y  the  earnest  prayers  and  oblations  of  men,  or 
 of  the  minor  gods,  and  can  be  induced  to  descend  into  the  world  and  to 
 set  things  right  at  critical  moments.  These  descents  are  his  famous  incar- 
 nations, when  he  has  come  embodied  in  some  form,  and  has  achieved 
 great  feats,  or  worked  great  miracles.  His  most  celebrated  embodiments 
 were  Rana  and  Krishna.  Rana  is  a  famous  legendary  warrior — the  hero 
 of  the  great  epic  poem  of  India.  Krishna  is  a  god  whose  worship  is  in 
 the  highest  repute  in  certain  parts  of  India.  It  must  be  clearly  borne  in 
 mind  that  this  theory  of  divine  embodiment  is  one  of  the  most  important 
 and  effective  doctrines  of  Hinduism  ;  it  binds  together  various  parts  of  the 
 religion,  connecting  the  higher  with  the  lower  ideas,  and  bringing  the  gods 
 constantly  down  from  heaven  to  take  part  in  human  affairs.  Whenever  it 
 became  expedient  to  account  for  the  marvellous  feats  of  some  great  hero, 
 the  explanation  has  been  that  he  was  possessed  by  the  great  god  Vishnu, 
 
ii6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 who  was  acting  under  his  form  ;  and  thus  the  god  has  constantly  appeared 
 as  a  man  among  men,  to  his  great  glorification.  But  Vishnu  has  also  passed 
 into  the  bodies  of  animals  :  into  the  lion,  the  boar,  the  fish,  and  the  tor- 
 toise. Now  this  sort  of  tradition  will  first  strike  you  as  full  of  crazy  incon- 
 sistencies. You  hear  that  the  divine  spirit  has  animated  a  magnificent 
 warrior  or  a  wonder-working  saint,  and  you  admit  that  the  conception  is 
 rational  and  not  undignified.  When  you  are  told  that  the  same  great  god 
 passed  into  a  fish  and  a  tortoise,  and  is  worshipped  under  that  form,  you 
 think  the  belief  absurd  and  irrational.  But  in  the  first  place  you  must  bear  in 
 mind  that  the  underlying  idea  running  through  all  these  embodiments  is 
 Pantheism  ;  the  divine  spirit  is  everywhere  immanent  and  active  in  aii 
 insect  as  nuich  as  in  Alexander  the  (Ireat.  And  in  the  second  place  thfe 
 Bralimans  had  very  special  and  practical  reasons  for  recognising  the  appear- 
 ance of  Vishnu  in  certain  animal  shapes.  It  is  to  be  remembered  that  the 
 Brahmanic  religion  has  always  been  making  converts  of  the  numerous  non- 
 Hindu  tribes  and  clans  in  the  outlying  tracts,  in  the  hills  and  forests  of 
 India.  These  were  the  aboriginal  peoples,  who  practised  rude,  fetish-like 
 Avorship  of  things  and  animals.  And  there  is  good  cause  for  supposing 
 that  one  principal  method  of  amalgamating  these  outside  gentiles  with 
 the  general  congregation  of  Hindus,  was  by  admitting  their  gods,  properly 
 refined  and  improved  and  explained,  into  the  Hindu  Pantheon.  This  seems 
 to  have  been  effected,  in  many  cases,  by  identifying  their  objects  of  worship 
 as  embodiments  of  Vishnu.  I  myself  know  of  one  instance  where  the  boar 
 was  worsliipped  by  a  tribe  of  wild  hillmen  in  Central  India.  Now  the 
 boar  is  one  of  Vishnu's  famous  incarnations  ;  and  as  the  hillmen  became 
 Hinduized,  it  was  quite  natural  and  obvious  that  A'ishnu  should  be  dis- 
 covered in  the  animal ;  so  that  the  hillmen  had  only  to  understand  that 
 they  had  been  worshipping  the  great  god  unawares.  This  tribe  was  rapidly 
 passing  into  Hinduism  under  my  eyes.  Nor  was  this  by  any  means  a  de- 
 liberate method  of  deluding  or  mystifying  the  aborigines.  The  Brahmans 
 accepted  the  fact  that  the  thing  or  creature  worshipped  had  about  it  some 
 marvellous  or  formidable  qualities — that  it  was  rightly  adored  or  propi- 
 tiated ;  they  only  went  a  step  behind  and  above  the  mere  outside  worship, 
 and  explained  that  these  qualities  betokened  some  special  divine  power  or 
 attribute,  and  thus  signified  the  presence  of  the  god  in  a  new  form.  And 
 they  would  also  say,  if  pressed,  that  the  god  himself  was  merely  a  visible 
 and  striking  manifestation  of  the  hidden  divine  energy  that  animates  every- 
 thing. In  the  same  manner  all  the  great  heroes  and  saints  would  be  shown 
 to  be  disguises  or  appearances  put  on  by  A'ishnu  for  the  purpose  of  playing 
 some  great  part  upon  the  stage  of  the  visible  world. 
 
 I  have  mentioned  Krishna  and  Rana,  and  there  are  many  other  names. 
 I  remember  that  in  the  mutiny,  when  a  Mahomcdan  led  a  force  against  us, 
 and  had  some  success  at  first,  a  Rajpoot,  recounting  his  feats,  said  that  he 
 must  he  an  embodiment  of  Krishna ;  the  notion  in  one  shape  or  another 
 is  very  old  and  widespread.     You  will  recollect  that  when  the  Homeric 
 
HINDUISM.  117 
 
 gods  take  part  in  a  battle,  they  are  apt  to  assume  the  form  of  some  warriors, 
 and  the  legends  of  all  nations  are  full  of  such  miraculous  figures  appearing 
 to  save  or  defend  their  worshippers.  Krishna,  again,  has  at  least  ten  cele- 
 brated incarnations  of  his  own,  under  which  he  is  separately  worshipped  at 
 certain  famous  shrines.  Juggernath,  of  whose  car  you  have  heard,  is  one 
 of  his  names.  His  extreme  devotees  consecrate  to  him  their  soul,  their 
 body  and  their  goods ;  but  I  am  afraid  that  his  example,  as  a  remarkably 
 sportive  and  amorous  deity,  has  led  to  very  loose  practices  among  some 
 sections  of  his  worshippers. 
 
 Siva  rei)resents  a  different  [principle,  and  stands  out  in  strong  contrast  to 
 Vishnu.  1  le  is  the  destroyer  and  rebuilder  of  the  various  forms  of  life. 
 He  has  charge  of  the  whole  circle  of  animated  existence,  the  incessant 
 round  of  births  and  deaths  in  which  all  nature  eternally  revolves.  He  is 
 not  known  through  embodiment,  like  Vishnu,  but  through  his  tremendous 
 attributes  and  their  symbols  ;  he  is  made  manifest  through  the  great  natural 
 forces  of  destruction  and  reproduction.  He  brings  to  life  and  he  brings  to 
 death,  and  the  plagues  and  diseases  like  small  pox,  which  sweep  away 
 thousands,  are  his  agencies.  Nature,  as  we  know,  makes  and  breaks  a 
 thousand  types,  and  cares  nothing  for  the  amazing  waste  that  goes  on 
 in  creation.  She  is  always  producing  and  destroying  in  a  mysterious,  reck- 
 less, inexorable  sort  of  way.  Siva  presides  over  this  terrible  machinery, 
 which  is  constantly  sweeping  away  millions  of  creatures  and  replacing 
 them  by  others.  The  aim  of  the  ordinary  crowd  of  Siva's  worshippers  is 
 to  propitiate  his  power ;  the  ambition  of  a  few  is  to  obtain  a  share  of  it. 
 
 It  is  under  Siva's  patronage  that  are  practised  the  severe  austerities 
 and  feats  of  self-mortification,  or  even  self-mutilation  by  iron  hooks,  and 
 endurance  of  pain  and  starvation,  rigid  postures,  fasting  and  solitary 
 meditation.  By  these  practices  an  untlinching  soutri  may  at  last  obtain 
 miraculous  powers,  and  may  even  compel  the  gods  to  obey  him.  Most  of 
 the  brotherhoods  or  orders  of  Indian  devotees,  fakirs,  or  vagrant  Hindu 
 dervishes,  who  sometimes  disdain  clothing  and  wander  all  over  India,  arc 
 worshippers  of  Siva,  who  is  also  the  god  in  whose  temples  thousands  of 
 animals  are  sacrificed,  while  it  is  supposed  that  even  human  sacrifices 
 would  not  distress  him.  Here  again  it  is  now  generally  conjectured  that 
 just  as  Vishnu  annexed  and  absorbed  the  benignant,  heroic  or  merely  mar- 
 vellous gods  of  the  non-Brahmanic  tribes,  so  the  rude  and  cruel  rites  of  the 
 aborigines,  the  more  terrible  apparitions,  demons,  and  goblins  of  the  ruder 
 races,  were  assigned — as  these  races  became  Hinduized — to  Siva  or  to  his 
 manifestations,  or  to  Siva's  consort  and  attendant  subordinate  deities. 
 
 1  have  now  attempted  very  imperfectly  to  explain  the  great  triad  of  Hin- 
 duism— Brahma,  Vishnu  and  Siva.  It  is  to  be  observed  that  they  have  an 
 inner  and  an  outer  meaning — a  popular  shape  and  a  mystic  interpretation. 
 They  represent  the  principle  which  runs  like  a  spinal  cord  right  through  all 
 Hinduism,  connecting  the  higher  intelligent  religions  with  the  lower  beliefs. 
 At  the  top  we  have  these  deities  representing  the  intellectual  and  abstract 
 
Il8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 notions  of  the  religion  ;  they  are  mysterious  allegorical  figures  which  suggest 
 and  personify  the  secrets  of  Nature,  and  the  unchanging,  pitiless  laws  of 
 Nature's  action— the  malignant  and  benignant  influences,  the  all-pervading 
 energy  they  preside  over,  the  eternal  succession  of  life  and  death,  as  of  day 
 and  night.  Then  comes  the  ordinary  popular  worship  of  the  same  deities 
 — of  their  embodiments,  manifestations  and  symbols,  and  at  the  bottom 
 we  have  Vishnu  and  Siva  drawing  to  themselves  and  assimilating  the  fierce, 
 foolisli  or  indecent  customs  and  worships  of  the  primitive  deities,  of 
 animals,  of  rivers  and  mountains,  of  stocks  and  stones. 
 
 But  I  must  go  on  to  explain  that  beside  the  three  great  gods  and  their 
 most  famous  incarnations  or  manifestations,  there  is  a  vast  crowd  of  local 
 gods,  who  may  or  may  not  be  directly  attached  to  the  great  Three.  There 
 are  also  impersonations,  which  we  shall  call  allegorical,  of  such  things  as 
 Fortune,  War,  Courage ;  a  whole  class  of  events  and  chances,  in  which 
 mankind  is  deeply  interested,  is  figured  by  a  god  as  in  pagan  anticpiity. 
 There  is  also  the  elemental  worship  of  the  great  objects  of  Nature— the  sun 
 and  moon,  and  of  the  rain  and  the  wind,  thinly  disguised  under  the  names 
 of  deities.  The  great  rivers  and  the  high  mountain  peaks  are  obvious  points 
 of  direct  adoration  ;  the  thing  itself  is  worshipped  ;  the  river  is  a  living  and 
 moving  force,  replete  with  divine  energy  ;  the  mountain  is  a  huge  mani- 
 festation of  power.  There  is  also  a  very  numerous  and  miscellaneous  army 
 of  saints  and  martyrs,  heroes  and  sages,  who  have  been  locally  distinguished 
 and  have  been  deified  or  canonized  by  popular  wonder  or  awe ;  they  have 
 produced  a  deep  impression  on  the  mind  of  the  people  by  piety,  valour, 
 misfortune,  austerity  or  preaching.  They  arc  declared  to  have  worked 
 miracles  during  their  lives,  and  to  have  shown  signs  of  being  possessed  of 
 special  divine  power  or  virtue,  for  good  or  for  evil.  In  fact,  the  worshii> 
 of  the  elder  or  classic  gods  is  only  a  portion  of  the  popular  religion  of  the 
 country.  Men  are  driven  by  their  feeling  of  the  awfulness  of  invisible  power 
 surrounding  them  to  propitiate  every  strange  shape  or  striking  natural 
 object;  their  piety  leads  them  to  pay  reverence  to  useful  animals,  and  even 
 to  the  implements  of  a  profitable  trade.  The  people  have  set  up  tutelary 
 deities  without  number,  who  watch  over  the  interests  of  separate  classes 
 or  callings,  and  who  are  served  by  rites  peculiar  to  their  shrines,  and  there 
 is  a  continual  addition  made  in  the  more  remote  districts  to  the  number  of 
 what  1  may  call  canoni/ed  saints,  who  gradually  rise  to  be  local  gods. 
 
 My  own  view  regarding  the  origin  and  growth  of  a  great  many  of  these 
 local  deities  is  this.  It  is  drawn  from  some  actual  observation.  I  believe 
 that  the  practice  of  turning  wonderful  men  into  gods  goes  on  incessantly  in 
 India, — that  the  habit  of  ascribing  divine  possession  to  remarkable  i)erson- 
 ages  has  been  for  ages  almost  universal  among  primitive  races  and  super- 
 stitious peoples,  and  consequently  that  a  very  large  number  of  the  gods  of 
 Hinduism  have  been  developed,  so  to  sjieak,  out  of  humanity.  I  mean 
 that  if  you  could  tra(  e  back  their  authentic  history,  and  get  at  the  kernel 
 of  truth  that  lies  at  the  bottom  of  almost  all  legends,  you  would  find  that 
 
HINDUISM.  It9 
 
 the  beginning  of  the  whole  story  was  that  some  man  was  famous  during 
 his  life-time,  was  therefore  worshipped  after  his  death,  that  his  worship 
 became  popular  and  s[)read,  until  his  human  origin  was  forgotten  or 
 concealed,  and  that  he  thus  became  converted  or  promoted  into  the  full 
 honours  of  divinity.  No  one  would  deny  the  strong  influence  of  Nature- 
 worship, — of  the  worship  of  the  stars,  the  sea,  the  darkness  and  dawn,  etc. 
 Nevertheless  all  the  most  impressive  figures  that  stand  out  in  the  front 
 rank  of  popular  Hinduism  appear  to  me  to  have  been  gradually  formed  in 
 the  manner  I  have  said  ;  they  are  magnified  supernatural  men.  AVe  can,  I 
 think,  trace  a  series  of  beliefs  which  support  this  conjecture.  There  is  first 
 the  general  worship  of  the  dead  and  of  ghosts,  which  is  found  among  all 
 the  primitive  races  of  India  ;  then  comes  the  particular  worship  of  dead 
 men  who  have  been  famous;  then  the  worship  of  these  famous  men  as  local 
 gods  ;  and  lastly,  the  recognition  of  these  local  gods  as  forms  or  appear- 
 ances of  the  supreme  gods  of  Hinduism.  The  tragedy  of  a  fierce  or  painful 
 life,  the  mystery  of  death,  and  the  immense  attraction  to  men  of  striking 
 character  or  exploits,  seem  to  me  to  account  for  the  origin  and  formation  of  a 
 great  many  divinities.  We  find  that  the  ancient  Christian  fathers  Tertullian 
 and  St.  Augustine  vehemently  declared  in  their  writings  against  paganism, 
 that  all  the  heathen  gods  were  originally  men  to  whom  divine  honours  had 
 been  paid,  and  it  is  somewhere  said  that  the  great  idol  of  the  pagans,  of 
 classic  polytheism,  was  deified  humanity. 
 
 To  sum  up  briefly,  you  have  at  the  summit  the  great  triad  Brahma 
 Vishnu  and  Siva,  with  their  consorts,  the  deities  who  create  and  uphold  the 
 visible  universe — then  you  have  them  reappearing  in  various  embodiments, 
 emblems  and  manifestations.  Then  we  may  take  the  adoration  of  deities 
 personifying  the  worship  of  remarkable  natural  objects.  Add  the  gods  of 
 mythology,  of  heroic  legend,  and  of  the  great  national  epics.  And  we 
 must  also  count  a  certain  number  of  deities  who  i)reside  over  callings 
 possessions  and  localities — whose  worship  is  famous  at  certain  places  like 
 the  ancient  Diana  at  F.phesus.  When  we  get  beyond  this  very  rough  and 
 imperfect  classification,  I  myself  am  unable  to  put  the  rest  of  the  religious 
 practices  clearly.  The  truth  is  that  in  the  divine  affairs  of  India  there 
 reigns  much  confusion  ;  I  can  only  say  that  there  is  a  multitudinous  worship 
 of  deified  men,  of  animals  and  plants,  of  stocks  and  stones  ;  and  that  this 
 army  of  divinities  is  not  a  fi.ved  establishment ;  it  is  constantly  shifting  and 
 changing  ;  there  seems  to  be  a  regular  course  of  the  generation,  evolu- 
 tion, and  decay  of  the  lesser  divinities.  Then  there  are  numerous  religious 
 sects,  holding  peculiar  doctrines,  and  there  are  spiritual  teachers  who  from 
 time  to  time  appear  and  promulgate  new  rites  and  beliefs.  There  are  also 
 some  well-known  orders  of  wandering  friars  and  ascetics. 
 
 I  ought  also  to  mentioa  here  that  the  religion  is  still  spreading.  The 
 aboriginal  tribes,  the  clans  and  races  which  still  inhabit  the  hill  tracts,  the 
 outlying  uplands  and  the  uncleared  jungle  districts  of  India,  are  melting 
 into  Hinduism  as  they  settle  down  and  become  comparatively  civilized. 
 
I20  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Among  these  communities  a  social  change  is  going  on  ;  they  alter  their 
 mode  of  life  to  suit  altered  conditions  of  existence,  and  with  a  change  of 
 habits  comes  always  a  change  of  ideas.  They  pass  into  Brahmanism  by  a 
 natural  upward  transition  which  leads  them  to  adopt  the  rituals  of  the  classes 
 immediately  above  them.  We  may  reasonably  guess  that  this  transition  has 
 been  going  on  for  centuries,  and  that  the  primitive  beliefs  have  been  con- 
 stantly slipping  and  falling  like  an  ever-breaking  seashore  into  the  ocean  of 
 IJrahmanism.  And  Brahmanism  accepts  the  adhesion  of  the  outer  gentiles, 
 it  invites  them  to  come  in  and  conform,  and  to  place  themselves  under  the 
 spiritual  direction  of  the  orthodo.x  priesthood  ;  it  holds  open  to  them  the 
 gates  of  admission  into  Brahmanic  caste  and  creed.  This  is  the  natural 
 melting  down  into  a  formal  religion  of  the  creeds  and  customs  of  wild  folk 
 who  emerge  intellectually  aimless  and  wandering  out  of  the  barbarous  state. 
 
 Here  then,  in  short,  we  have  an  immense  undefined  system  of  compli- 
 cated ritual  and  propitiatory  worship  of  all  the  powers  that  influence  man, 
 an  apparent  wilderness  of  polytheism,  the  worship  of  a  multitude  of  in- 
 visible gods,  overlying  a  lower  form  of  religious  animism,  the  direct  adora- 
 tion of  visible  natural  objects — all  these  religious  practices  being  more  or 
 less  sanctioned  by  ancient  tradition,  by  the  sacred  books  and  by  the 
 hereditary  caste  of  priests,  who  are  stewards  of  the  mysteries  and  who  in- 
 vest the  grosser  forms  of  religion  with  a  mysterious  symbolism  which  always 
 points  to  something  beyond  what  is  visible.  Xow  it  can  be  easily  understood 
 that  great  differences  may  exist  in  the  feelings  and  meanings  with  whicli 
 traditional  rites  may  be  practised  among  the  different  classes.  With  the 
 more  ignorant  folk,  the  propensity  to  worship  the  marvellous  runs  wild  into 
 absurd  superstitions.  But  it  can  also  be  perceived  that  an  educated  and 
 pious  Hindu  may  fairly  argue  that  grateful  oblations  and  reverent  worship 
 may  reasonably  be  given  to  those  beings  in  whom  he  personifies  the 
 bounty  and  benignity  of  Nature.  Nor  has  it  been  usually  thought  wrong 
 in  religion  to  propitiate  agencies  and  influences  that  may  be  terrible  or 
 benevolent — may  reward  or  punish.  There  can  be  no  harm,  to  a  devout 
 worshipper,  in  regarding  deities  as  glorious  and  mysterious  links  in  the 
 grand  circle  of  existences,  visible  or  invisible,  the  powers  which  have  created 
 which  can  destroy  or  preserve. 
 
 So  far  as  can  be  discerned  by  a  foreigner  looking  at  the  ordinary  crowd 
 of  worshippers,  the  object  and  motives  of  Hindu  piety  are  to  note  what 
 men  want,  and  if  possible  to  give  the  gods  what  may  please  them.  This  is 
 the  end  of  their  prayer  and  sacrifice  ;  the  gods  are  worshipped  because  ex- 
 perience proves  that  it  is  useful  to  do  so.  But  this  is  by  no  means  all. 
 There  is  behind  those  simple  and  direct  motives  for  piety  the  doctrine  of 
 future  existences,  of  the  transmigration  of  the  soul  through  numerous 
 stages  of  penal  and  purifying  trials,  through  the  bodies  of  animals,  and 
 through  higher  forms,  until  at  last  the  soul  is  finally  absorbed  into  the 
 supreme  being.  If  you  asked  a  Hindu,  whether  priest  or  peasant,  what  is 
 the  ultimate  good  to  be  aimed  at,  he  would  answer,  "liberation,"  by  which 
 
HIXDUISM.  12 1 
 
 he  means  the  freedom  of  the  soul  from  its  bondage  of  union  to  the  body, 
 to  anything  thai  lias  sensation,  and  its  return  to  the  infinite  spirit  whence 
 it  issued.  And  this  can  only  be  accompUshed  by  a  painful  passage 
 through  a  labyrinth  of  existences.  It  does  not  seem,  however,  that  the 
 belief  in  this  kind  of  future  life  or  final  state  after  deatli  plays  such  a  large 
 part  in  the  Hindu  religion  as  it  does  in  other  great  Faiths ;  on  the  contrarj-, 
 with  the  people  at  large  the  aid  and  countenance  of  the  gods  in  this  present 
 life — in  the  visible  world, — their  pleasure  and  displeasure,  are  the  really 
 important  objects  of  devotion. 
 
 The  inner  and  deeper  aspects  of  philosophic  Hinduism  lie  beyond  the 
 scope  of  this  essay,  though  Pantheism,  the  doctrine  that  the  divine  energy 
 is  everywhere  visibly  immanent,  may  almost  be  termed  an  article  of  popular 
 faith.  It  may  be  observed,  however,  that  the  jieculiarity  of  Hinduism  lies 
 in  this — that  as  a  religion  it  is  not  a  circumscribed  scheme  of  life  and 
 death,  but  that,  while  it  begins  very  low  down,  with  a  grotesque  idolatry, 
 it  rises  nevertheless  to  very  lofty  heights  of  theosophy,  and  disappears  into 
 the  clouds  as  it  ascends.  Tiie  deities  themselves  are  subject  to  the  eternal 
 law  of  change  which  governs  all  sentient  existence  ;  for  all  that  we  perceive 
 is  but  an  illusion,  and  the  universe  itself  is  held  by  one  famous  theologic 
 school  to  be  in  some  mysterious  way  only  an  emanation  from  the  supreme 
 Soul,  a  projection  of  creative  power  into  space.  So  far,  say  the  sages,  as 
 anything  e.xists,  it  does  so  by  the  virtue  of  divine  energy  enforcing  it 
 The  soul,  when  purified  from  all  illusion,  attains  true  wisdom,  and  is 
 absorbed  in  the  totality  of  existences,  that  fall  like  drops  of  rain  into  a 
 sea,  into  the  great  universal  soul  or  spirit. 
 
 Thus  death,  like  sleep,  is  a  mere  inter\'al  between  periods  of  conscious 
 existence,  the  successive  births  answering  to  the  regular  wakings  from 
 sleep,  and  the  chief  difference  between  sleep  and  death  is  that,  so  far  as 
 can  be  understood,  we  have  no  distant  memory  of  former  lives,  as  we  have 
 of  past  days,  though  we  have  the  hereditary  taint  of  fonner  sins  and  lower 
 instincts.  The  true  goal  and  final  purjiose  of  passage  through  all  these 
 worlds  and  existences  is  to  get  finally  beyond  reach  of  the  power  which 
 afflicts  men  with  sensation.  There  may  be  a  heaven  or  hell,  there  may  be 
 many  such  places,  just  as  there  are  many  gods  ;  but  even  in  heaven  one  is 
 not  quite  secure,  as  the  history  of  Milton's  fallen  angels  warns  us,  and  the 
 Hindu  thinks  it  safest  to  travel  beyond  all  possible  vicissitudes  of  joy  and 
 sorrow  into  a  state  that  is  likened  to  dreamless  sleep.  It  must  be  explained 
 also,  in  connection  with  this  feeling,  that  the  high  philosopher  secretly 
 looks  down  on  the  ordinary  worship  of  the  gods,  because  its  object  is 
 merely  connected  with  pleasure  and  pain  here  or  hereafter. 
 
 From  this  point  of  view,  therefore,  it  is  of  little  use  for  those  who  attack 
 Hinduism  to  expound  to  the  Hindu  that  his  mythology  is  mere  imagina- 
 tion and  that  his  gods  are  fanciful  creations  ;  the  higher  Brahraans  will  reply 
 that  they  are  well  aware  that  the  divinities  are  only  the  outward  figures, 
 symbols  or  indications  of  the  incomprehensible  power  behind  everything. 
 
122  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Tliey  would  say  it  is  the  early  form  in  which  the  Pantheistic  principle  and 
 divine  omnipresent  energy  can  be  interpreted  to  the  people,  and  that  the 
 ordinary  worship  is  really  paid  to  manifestations  of  the  deity  who  is  identical 
 in  substance  with  all  forces  and  forms.  But  if  the  deity  and  the  natural 
 universe  are  the  same,  there  must  still  be  something  beyond,  and  those 
 who  ask  what  it  is  may  be  told  that  there  is  somewhere  an  infinite  being 
 unconditioned  and  unconscious,  which  acknowledges  no  liability  for  the 
 soul's  existence,  and  disowns  all  interest  in  human  affairs.  It  is  the  soul's 
 concern  to  escape  out  of  the  endless  desert  of  ignorance  and  delusion  ;  the 
 spirit  looks  on  at  the  struggle  with  absolute  indifference. 
 
 It  will  be  no  matter  of  surprise,  however,  to  learn  that  there  are  many 
 different  schools  and  sects  of  Hindu  philosophy,  and  various  solutions  of  the 
 great  metaphysical  problems  regarding  man's  future  destiny,  or  the  nature 
 of  the  deity,  although  in  this  epoch  there  is  no  room  for  more  than  a  pass- 
 ing reference  to  them.  There  are  certain  theories,  showing  more  or  less  of 
 a  tendency  to  pure  materialism  in  theories  in  which  the  rise  and  growth  of 
 the  visible  world  is  attributed  to  no  other  cause  than  the  blind  striving  of 
 Nature,  forming  itself  out  of  the  primary  element  of  plastic  matter  and 
 becoming  the  sport  of  unintelligent  forces. 
 
 The  Sankhya  philosophy  represents  matter  acting  a  sort  of  pantomine 
 before  the  soul,  like  a  dancing  girl  before  some  prince,  twisting  itself  into 
 myriad  shapes  and  postures,  the  world  being  thus  merely  the  theatre  upon 
 which  the  soul,  held  apart,  looks  out  and  watches  the  performance. 
 
 From  what  has  been  said  one  may  obtain  some  general  measure  of  the 
 vast  difference  in  ideas  and  external  observances  which  separates  the 
 higher  and  lower  phases  of  religious  belief  in  India.  Between  the  two 
 extremes,  between  simple,  direct  polytheism  and  idolatry  on  the  one  hand, 
 and  lofty  speculations  and  symbolic  rites  on  the  other,  the  connection  is 
 difficult  to  trace  and  demonstrate,  yet  it  exists.  Something  of  the  kind 
 may  be  found  in  every  religion ;  because  while  on  the  one  hand  no  re- 
 hgion  can  subsist  at  all  if  it  does  not  square  with  the  common  facts  and 
 circumstances  of  the  world  we  inhabit,  on  the  other  hand  every  religion  must 
 have  a  kind  of  philosophic  theory  of  the  universe  somewhere  in  the  back- 
 ground— must  have  a  comparatively  reasonable  answer  to  the  great  cjues- 
 tions  whether  there  is  a  future  life  for  men,  whether  God  is  knowable,  and  to 
 what  extent  human  affairs  are  regulated  by  the  divine  providence.  The 
 peculiarity  of  Hinduism  is  that  it  is  so  elastic  as  to  provide  beliefs  and 
 rites  of  every  kind,  such  as  are  satisfactory  and  suitable  to  the  humblest 
 idol-worshippers,  and  those  which  answer  to  the  intellectual  conceptions 
 of  the  highest  mind  in  India.  But  to  satisfy  subtle  inquirers  of  this  latter 
 class  the  answer  must  go  far.  For  although  the  Hindu  will  accept,  pro- 
 visionally, all  kinds  of  presentations  of  the  divine  power,  and  he  will  listen 
 to  extravagant  mythologies,  all  this  does  not  by  any  means  satisfy  him,  for 
 there  must  evidently  be  something  beyond.  And  if  he  is  in  a  philosophic 
 temper,  he  concludes  that  it  has  pleased  the  eternal  powers  to  make  them- 
 
HIXDUISM.  123 
 
 selves  known  to  ordinary  humanity  by  a  kind  of  masquerade,  by  all  kinds 
 of  shapes  and  figures  and  feelings — that  the  whole  thing  is  what  has  been 
 called  a  Cosmic  Illusion,  behind  whicli  lies  an  unknown  and  incomprc 
 hcnsihle  Reality.  It  is  not  impossible  that  our  men  of  science  in  these 
 latter  days  may  have  come  to  mut  ii  the  same  conclusion,  though  it  may 
 be  expressed  in  different  phraseology. 
 
 liut  there  is  another  (juestion  which  Englishmen  are  likely  to  ask,  though 
 it  has  not  yet  come  to  tlie  foreground  in  India.  They  are  probably 
 accustomed  to  regard  religion  as  a  scheme  for  the  moral  government  of 
 mankind,  and  they  will  desire  to  know  what  are  the  ethical  bearings  and 
 influences  of  Hinduism  ;  that  is,  liow  their  beliefs  are  connected  with  right 
 and  wrong,  of  the  punishment  of  sin  and  tiie  reward  of  virtue.  Well,  it  is 
 to  be  admitted  that  among  a  great  number  of  Hindus  the  religious  idea 
 has  not  yet  reached  that  particular  stage  at  which  one  object  of  divine 
 government  is  assumed  to  be  the  advancement  of  morals.  It  must  also 
 be  admitted  that  there  is  a  considerable  minority  whose  ideas  have  passed 
 beyond  this  stage,  and  who  conceive  their  supreme  divinity  as  indifferent 
 to  the  moral  or  inward  nature  of  human  acts.  Or  rather,  it  might  be  said, 
 that  the  divinity,  being  all  knowing,  knows  that  good  and  bad  things 
 equally  work  out  the  final  purpose.  And  it  must  be  confessed  that  many 
 of  the  rites  and  practices  of  Hinduism  are  (juite  contrary  to  ordinary 
 notions  of  moral  conduct,  though  not  more  so  than  the  practic  es  of  the 
 most  civilized  nations  of  anticpiity,  of  (Ireece  or  Rome.  But  this  i> 
 mainly  because  JJrahmanism  accepts  and  tolerates  the  worshi[)S  and  super- 
 stitions that  have  grown  up  among  the  rude  tribes,  or  have  been  handed 
 down  from  primitive  times.  W'e  are  to  remember  that  there  are  books 
 in  Hinduism,  full  of  moral  precepts  and  virtuous  maxims,  enjoining  piety 
 austerity,  and  abnegation  of  self.  There  is  a  great  feeling  for  justice,  self- 
 restraint,  unselfishness  and  bodily  purity.  But  tiie  loose  structure  of  the 
 religion,  varying  between  outward-  polytheism  and  inner  mysticism,  does  not 
 favour  tlie  use  of  fixed  positive  articles  of  faith  for  the  purpose  of  enforcing 
 moral  precepts.  Christianity,  for  example,  incessantly  and  distinctly  en- 
 joins righteousness  ;  whereas  Hinduism  does  not  strenuously  sanction  and 
 affirm  rules  of  moral  conduct  by  the  strength  of  a  religious  code  directed 
 against  evil-doers.  There  is  a  high  philosophy  ;  there  is  a  deep  feeling  of 
 subordination  to  the  divine  power  and  will,  though  mainly  with  regard  to 
 the  i>erils  and  troubles  of  the  present  life  :  there  is  also  a  strong  impres- 
 sion of  the  transitoriness  of  human  existence  and  personality.  There  is, 
 moreover,  as  has  been  mentioned  already,  a  Hindu  hell  and  heaven,  and 
 there  is  the  doctrine  of  future  pains  and  penalties,  but  it  conveys  chiefly  the 
 lesson  that  a  soul  may  lose  or  gain  by  certain  acts  or  omissions,  and  that  it 
 has  to  pass  through  innumerable  stages  of  purgatory  betbre  it  can  be  cleansed 
 from  its  worldly  stains.  And  the  high  ritual  of  the  Brahmans,  with  its 
 elaborate  forms,  its  severe  penances,  is  only  self-discipline  for  the  purpose 
 of  wrestling  with  or  appeasing  the  unknown  but  ubiquitous  influences  that 
 
124  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OE   THE    WORLD. 
 
 press  round  on  the  soul  in  its  passage  through  the  diverse  trials.  Accord- 
 ing to  this  doctrine — I  mean  the  transmigration  of  souls — its  future  fate  is 
 regulated,  not  according  to  the  decision  of  a  just  and  terrible  judge,  but 
 by  the  spontaneous  and,  as  it  were,  natural  operation  of  a  soul's  experience, 
 by  the  inevitable  consequence  of  certain  acts  or  accidents.  Nevertheless 
 it  is  clear  that  this  belief  contains  some  good  elements  of  practical  morality, 
 as  it  makes  men  responsible  for  the  consequences  of  their  acts  during 
 any  one  of  these  existences  ;  insomuch  that  a  Hindu,  when  he  falls  into 
 misfortune,  will  often  declare  that  it  must  have  come  upon  him  as  a 
 consequence  of  some  sin  committed  in  a  previous  existence.  And  the 
 doctrine  thus  keeps  alive  a  sense  of  being  answerable  for  one's  acts,  and 
 an  anxiety  about  the  unknown  future.  Nevertheless  the  idea,  in  this  shape, 
 is  too  remote  and  not  precise  enough  to  be  of  much  weight  in  impressing 
 the  minds  of  the  masses,  and  it  has  nothing  like  the  force  of  stern  com- 
 mandments supernaturally  delivered,  forbidding  crime  and  enjoining 
 duties.  And,  above  all  things,  the  supreme  spirit  of  the  Hindus  is 
 indifferent,  passive,  unconscious  :  he  lets  men  work  out  their  own  end. 
 There  is  no  almighty  power  who  orders,  directs,  and  is  in  sympathy  with 
 mankind. 
 
 Lastly,  some  may  ask  what  is  likely  to  be  the  outcome  and  future  of 
 this  ancient  and  extraordinary  religion.  It  has  always  been  changing 
 more  or  less,  and  it  will  now  go  on  changing  faster  than  ever,  under  the 
 influence  of  contact  with  Europe.  Moreover,  it  is  a  historical  fact  that  all 
 religious  forms  and  beliefs  undergo  an  incessant  transformation- -are 
 profoundly  modified  by  circumstances.  There  has  always  been  a  reform- 
 ing school  in  Hinduism, — a  desire  to  throw  off  the  coarser  conceptions 
 and  practices  and  to  adopt  things  more  spiritual  and  morally  better. 
 There  have  also  been  very  recently  various  attempts  in  this  direction  ;  there 
 has  been  a  desire  to  prove  that  the  Vedas,  the  original  sacred  books,  do 
 not  sanction  the  abuses  of  later  Hinduism  ;  that  they  may  be  interpreted 
 as  against  the  prevailing  idolatry,  and  that  the  real  Hinduism  prescribed 
 by  holy  writ  is  a  much  higher  and  purer  revelation.  The  reader  may  have 
 heard  of  the  Brahmo  Somaj,  which  is  a  kind  of  enlightened  deism,  a 
 pure  and  exalted  conception  of  God  as  the  supreme  moral  Governor,  the 
 impersonation  of  the  highest  justice  and  goodness,  as  revealed  through 
 His  works.  And  there  is  another  religious  society  called  the  Arya  Samaj, 
 which  receives  the  Vedas  as  the  book  of  true  knowledge,  and  worships 
 God  as  the  Tountain  of  all  knowledge  and  the  primeval  Cause.  But 
 the  defect  of  all  these  speculations  lies  in  a  certai.i  vagueness  :  they  have 
 no  exact  revelation  or  authentic  message  to  deliver  for  the  consolation  of 
 common  men  ;  they  depend  for  their  authority  too  much  on  the  mere 
 opinions  of  pious  and  benevolent  men  ;  they  pretend  to  no  supernatural 
 warrant  or  inspiration,  and  the  people  at  large  still  need  something  of 
 that  kind.  And,  on  the  whole,  it  is  not  clear  if  an  opinion  be  ventured 
 on  such  a  matter,  that  the  disappearance  of  the  popular  superstitions  will 
 
HINDUISM.  125 
 
 leave  any  solid  platform  upon  which  a  suijcricr  religion  may  be  built  up 
 afresh.  On  the  one  hand,  the  Hindus  arc  not  barbarous  tribes  who  can 
 be  lifted  ui»  by  missionaries  from  a  lower  to  a  higher  stage  of  belief; 
 and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  attempt  to  found  a  new  faith  upon  the  old 
 philosophies  is  not  likely  to  succeed.  And  I  must  repeat  that  the  real 
 substance  and  mainspring  of  Indian  religion  is  not  polytheism,  but  Panthe- 
 ism ;  and  it  is  with  Pantheism,  a  very  subtle  and  deep-seated  idea,  that 
 the  i^ropagation  of  any  new  faith  will  have  to  deal.  For  Pantheism, 
 which  sees  God  everywhere  and  in  everything,  is  a  sort  of  boundless  sea 
 of  credulity  which  swallows  up  all  the  forms  of  belief.  J!ut  there  can  be 
 little  doubt,  I  think,  that  the  whole  edifice  of  polytheism  is  likely  to  break 
 up  and  melt  off  the  surface  of  civilized  India  ;  that  their  immemorial 
 superstitions  will  collapse  before  the  steady  maintenance  of  peace  and  law, 
 the  advancement  of  learning  and  the  influx  of  knowledge.  If  we  can 
 prove  to  the  Hindu  that  life  is  better  worth  living  than  formerly,  he  will 
 abandon  much  of  his  pessimism,  and  in  the  new  world  to  which  the 
 people  are  being  introduced  there  will  be  no  place  for  the  old  deities. 
 Meanwhile  they  are  passing  through  a  hard  trial,  for  Europe  itself  is  an 
 arena  of  contending  speculations,  and  they  will  not  gain  much  by 
 exchanging  their  old  lamps  in  religion  for  our  newest  ones.  And  the  air 
 is  still  highly  charged  with  spiritual  enthusiasm,  so  that  no  one  can  say 
 whether  some  ardent  faith  ma)-  not  suddenly  bla/e  up  in  the  midst  of 
 India,  that  will  shatter  all  the  old  fabric  of  religion,  and  lead  away  the 
 great  Indian  multitudes  in  an  entirel)  new  direction. 
 
OLD  INDIAN   POETRY  AND  RELIGIOUS 
 
 THOUGHT.! 
 
 By  Mrs.  Frederika  jSIacdonald. 
 
 Sir  George  Birdwood,  in  his  important  work  on  the  Industrial  Arts  of 
 India,  has  said  that  no  one  can  properly  understand  Indian  art  who  has 
 not  learned  from  the  study  of  old  Indian  poetry  something  about  the 
 myths,  traditions,  and  beliefs  that  this  art  embodies  and  illustrates.  He 
 goes  farther  than  this.  He  says  that  people  do  not  understand  the 
 customs,  and  ways  of  thinking  and  feeling,  of  the  modern  Hindu  popula- 
 tion unless  they  have  some  familiarity  with  the  sacred  poetry,  that  is  still 
 the  influence  lending  colour,  variety,  and  animation  to  the  lives  of  the 
 great  mass  of  the  people  of  India. 
 
 Now  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  apply  this  statement  to  the  study  of 
 Indian  religion.  In  my  lecture  on  Buddhism,  I  said  that  students  who 
 are  pleased  to  follow  the  modern  method,  and  who  commence  their  study 
 of  Indian  religious  thought  with  Buddhism,  are  actually  beginning  to  read 
 a  large  volume  at  the  closing  chapters.  Buddhism  is  the  highest  and 
 most  perfect  development  of  a  system  of  ideas  and  beliefs  that  are  different 
 from  the  ideas  and  beliefs  that  form  the  groundwork  of  western  religious 
 systems.  And,  therefore,  the  western  student  cannot  easily  appreciate 
 these  ideas  in  their  latest  development,  unless  he  has  made  himself  familiar 
 with  them  in  the  earlier  and  simpler  stages  of  their  growth.  In  other 
 words,  he  does  not  understand  the  philosophy  of  Indian  religion  unless 
 he  has  penetrated  to,  and  been  to  some  extent  penetrated  by,  the  Indian 
 religious  sentiment. 
 
 The  home  of  tlie  Indian  religious  sentiment,  and  the  place  where  it 
 may  be  familiarly  studied,  is  in  those  two  Poems,  or  storehouses  of  poetry, 
 that  may  rightly  be  described  as  tlie  sources  of  the  imaginative  life  of 
 India.  I  am  speaking  of  the  Ramilyan  and  the  Alahabharat.  I  need  not 
 trouble  you  now  with  the  different  opinions  of  various  authors  u])on  the 
 actual  antifjuity  and  positive  historical  worth  of  the  Ramayan  and  Alahab- 
 harat ;  because  we  are  not  at  present  attempting  to  establish  the  relation 
 which  this  sacred  poetry  has  to  the  early  history  of  India  :  we  are  endea- 
 vouring to  see  it  as  the  home  of  the  Indian  religious  sentiment,  and  the 
 birthplace  of  that  higher  idealism  that  has  its  noblest  expression  in 
 Jluddhism.      But   I   may  say,   in   passing,   that   it  is   now  as  difficult   to 
 
 '   I'liis  lecUire,  given  al  Soulh  Place  IiistiUitc,  Fiiisbuiy,  w.is  puhlislied  in  the  ll'oi/iaii''s 
 lyorld  for  June,  iJiSg.     Il  is  reprinted  liere  by  kind  permi.ssion  of  Messrs.  Cassell. 
 
 126 
 
OLD  INDIAN  POETRY  AND  RELIGIOUS   THOUGHT.     127 
 
 establish  the  actual  date  of  the  Raiiifiyan  and  Mahabharat,  as  to  give 
 their  true  autliorship.  No  doubt  the  original  thread  of  tradition  that  has 
 supplied  the  central  stories  of  the  Ramayan  and  Mahabhiirat  may  be  traced 
 back  to  a  very  remote  period,  to  eighteen  hundred  or  two  thousand  years 
 u.c, — a  time  when  the  Aryan  settlers  in  India  found  themselves  brought 
 into  frequent  conflict  with  the  barbarous  indigenous  tribes,  whom  we  find 
 spoken  of  in  these  I'oems  as  "  Asuras,"  or  "  Rakshasas,''  i.e.  demons; 
 or  else,  with  more  <  ondes<:ension,  but  even  less  respect,  as  '•  wild  men  of 
 the  woods  "  ;  in  other  words,  a  race  of  intelligent  monkeys.  But  this  thread 
 of  early  tradition  has  to-day  become  overladen  and  over-clustered  with 
 later  traditions,  superstitious  fancies,  and  sentimental  romances.  And  we 
 can  readily  understand  how  this  has  come  about,  when  we  remember  that 
 these  great  Poems  have  been  preserved  to  the  people  of  India,  from 
 generation  to  generation,  and  from  age  to  age,  not  by  the  aid  of  priests 
 and  sages,  kept  in  check  by  the  authority  of  sacred  volumes,  but  mainly 
 by  the  free  gifts  of  memory  and  imagination  of  the  professional  poets  and 
 story-tellers,  who,  from  the  most  remote  times,  have  wandered  about 
 India,  as  they  still  wander,  from  town  to  town  and  village  to  village,  re- 
 citing and  relating  these  cherished  legends  and  traditions  that  are  a  part 
 of  the  national  life.  So  that  the  Ramayan  and  Mahabharat  exist  to-day, 
 not  as  the  creation  of  one  Poet  nor  of  several  poets,  nor  are  they  even 
 the  poetical  record  of  one  age.  'Phey  are  the  comprehensive  record  of 
 the  imaginative  life  of  India,  e.\i)anding  under  the  social,  political,  and 
 religious  influences  of  ages  whose  precise  and  literal  history  is  lost  to 
 us. 
 
 And  it  is  in  this  record  of  the  imaginative  life  of  India  that  we  find  the 
 traditions,  convictions,  and  sentiments  that  every  Indian  Philosopher  and 
 Prophet  hatl  to  count  with,  and,  to  some  extent,  to  adapt  and  utilize,  as 
 the  medium  for  conveying  his  spiritual  lessons  to  the  multitude.  But  even 
 this  is  not  all.  These  Indian  prophets  and  philosophers  were  not  them- 
 selves independent  of  the  influences  amidst  which  they  were  reared.  It 
 was  in  this  atmosphere,  saturated  with  the  sentiments  and  traditions  of 
 ancient  India,  that  their  abstruse  speculations  and  profound  meditations 
 were  carried  on.  In  other  words,  they  too  were  children  of  the  Ramayan 
 and  Mahal)harat :  and  it  is  quite  easy  to  trace  this  parentage,  and  the  in- 
 fluence of  the  old  Indian  sentimental  temper,  even  in  the  intellectual  reli- 
 gion of  Buddha,  or  in  the  mystical  pantheism  of  the  Vedanta  philosophy. 
 
 But  this  is  just  what  is  lost  sight  of  by  the  uninitiated  student,  who  starts 
 off  in  life  with  the  study  of  Buddhism  and  the  higher  schools  of  Brahman 
 philosophy.  And  here  we  have,  I  think,  the  explanation  of  the  astonish- 
 ing difficulties  these  students  assure  us  lie  in  the  way  of  a  proper  understand- 
 ing of  Indian  philosophical  and  religious  thought— ditficulties  that  they 
 declare  can  only  be  elucidated  by  "  esoteric  "  methods ;  and  by  the  assist- 
 ance of  "  psychological  telegrams  "  sent  from  the  Mahatmas  in  Tibet  to 
 the  Theosophical  Society  in  St.  John's  ^Vood. 
 
128  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 But  it  will  be  admitted,  I  think,  that  there  is  some  inherent  probability 
 that  a  safer  clue  to  the  meaning  of  Indian  religious  thought  may  be  found 
 through  the  study  of  the  conditions  of  sentiment  and  belief  amidst  which 
 these  higher  phases  of  thought  arose.  And  I  shall  presently  hope  to  prove 
 to  you  that  even  the  serious  student  of  the  spiritual  religions  of  India  will 
 not  lose  his  time,  and  may  possibly  derive  many  advantages,  if  he  will 
 consent  to  pass  a  season  of  preparation  in  what  Heine  has  called  so  well 
 the  "immense  Flowering  Forests  of  old  Indian  Poetry."  "What  is  more,  I 
 shall  hope  to  show  you  that  the  modern  idealist  may  find  in  this  old  story- 
 world  some  strange  resemblances  to  the  sentiments  and  enthusiasms  that 
 he  is  wont  to  describe  as  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  the  "  Modern 
 Spirit." 
 
 Now,  these  resemblances  do  not  lie  upon  the  surface.  The  first  impres- 
 sion made  upon  the  Western  reader  by  old  Indian  poetry  is  the  impression 
 that  he  has  entered  upon  a  strange  world ;  a  world  of  marvels  and  miracles, 
 where  common  sense  and  common  experience  are  entirely  neglected,  and 
 where  nothing  is  more  unusual  than  to  come  upon  any  incident  that  lies 
 within  the  bounds  of  possibility.  But  this  is  only  the  first  impression. 
 Let  the  explorer  penetrate  deeply  enough  into  these  immense  "  Flowering 
 Forests,"  and  very  soon  he  discovers  the  charm  that  puts  him  in  posses- 
 sion of  the  secret  of  the  place,  and  enables  him  to  count  at  its  true  w'orth 
 this  fantastic  play  of  an  imagination  that  is  never  enslaved  by  the  dreams 
 of  its  own  creation.  The  true  explanation  of  the  miraculous  atmosphere 
 that  pervades  old  Indian  poetry  is  to  be  found,  not  in  the  Indian  poet's 
 superstition  or  credulity,  but  rather  in  his  incredulity — his  inability  to  take 
 very  seriously  the  mere  show  of  things  that  is  made  to  pass  before  the  Soul 
 for  its  instruction  and  entertainment. 
 
 Where  all  the  outer  life  is  regarded  as  Maya,  Illusion,  a  dream,  and  a 
 vision,  there  can  be  no  objection  felt  to  some  incidents  of  the  dream  being 
 incredible  and  extraordinary.  And  when  this  discovery  is  once  made,  the 
 modern  idealist  will  find  himself  far  more  at  home  in  the  spiritual  atmo- 
 sphere of  old  Indian  poetry  than  he  is  in  the  spiritual  atmosphere  of  the 
 Romance  Country,  that  is  so  much  nearer  to  him  in  point  of  time,  but  that 
 is  haunted  by  the  mediaeval  religious  sentiment.  I  think,  if  the  truth  i.s 
 told,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  modern  idealist  is  not  at  all  at  home  in 
 the  mediseval  Romance  Countr)-.  The  mystical  aspiration  after  super- 
 human beauty  and  supernatural  delight  that  is  the  animating  enthusiasm  of 
 medieval  poetry  and  art  has  its  other  side,  in  a  contempt  for  nature  and 
 the  natural  life  of  man,  that  jars  upon  the  modern  sentimental  temper. 
 You  have  this  disdain,  and  even  disgust,  for  common  nature  expressed  in 
 the  effort  to  attain  an  ideal  tyije  of  beauty  as  little  natural  as  possible — a 
 type  where  human  mind  and  will,  as  well  as  human  body  and  passion,  are 
 attenuated,  and  as  for  as  possible  effaced,  lost  in  celestial  meekness  antl 
 self-abandonment.  Now,  to  satisfy  the  modern  conception  of  beauty,  will, 
 mind,  and  a  noble  self-possessing  energy  need  to  be  expressed.     Then  you 
 
OLD  INDIAN  POETRY  AND   RELIGIOUS    THOUGHT.     129 
 
 have  this  disdain  and  disgust  expressed  also  in  mediaeval  comedy,  in  the 
 choice  of  natural  human  love  as  a  favourite  theme  for  gross  jesting ;  and 
 es|)ecially  in  the  mediaeval  delight  in  the  grotesque  representation  of  the 
 dominion  of  Death  over  the  body,  in  the  grim  humour  of  pictures  of 
 dancing  skeletons  and  grinning  deaths'  heads,  in  the  constant  legend  of  the 
 worm,  corruption,  crawling  over  the  fair  flower  of  life. 
 
 In  old  Indian  poetry  you  have  nothing  of  all  this,  that  the  modern 
 imagination  feels  so  morbid.  Nothing,  indeed,  is  more  characteristic  of 
 the  Indian  poet  than  his  failure  when  he  attempts  to  deal  with  super- 
 natural terrors  or  morbid  horrors.  He  has  his  demons,  as  we  have  seen  ; 
 his  Asuras,  Rakshasas,  and  others  ;  but  it  is  amusing  to  observe  his  inability 
 to  deal  with  them  as  bona  fide  demons.  The  demons  of  Indian  poetry 
 generally  become  praiseworthy  characters  at  the  close  of  their  career,  and 
 die  in  the  odour  of  sanctity.  Ravana,  for  instance,  the  King  of  the  Raks- 
 hasas, the  Demon  of  the  Ramayan,  dies  a  valorous  death  ;  and  the  perfect 
 hero,  Rama,  pronounces  a  complimentary  speech  over  his  funeral  pyre. 
 Then,  in  Indian  poetry  you  have  a  great  love  of  the  grotesque  :  but  the 
 Indian  grotesque  has  nothing  morbid  about  it ;  it  deals  with  life,  not  with 
 death,  and  means  only  an  extreme  pleasure  in  the  quaint  and  humorous 
 aspects  of  nature.  The  mysticism  of  old  Indian  poetry,  too,  is  the  mys- 
 ticism of  pantheism— a  mysticism  that  docs  not  see  in  nature  the  enemy 
 of  the  soul,  but  that  sees  all  visible  nature  as  the  dream  of  the  universal 
 Soul  or  Mind  that  is  the  one  true  existence.  And  the  dreamer  has  no 
 disgust  for  his  dream,  but  only  tenderness  and  compassion.  He  takes 
 pleasure  in  his  dream,  in  its  admirable  and  beautiful  features,  only  the 
 l)leasure  is  tinged  with  melancholy,  because  he  feels  that — even  whilst  he 
 is  watcliing  it — the  dream  is  vanishing  away. 
 
 And  here  you  have  the  first  point  of  resemblance  between  the  Indian 
 and  the  modern  sentimental  tempers-— in  a  certain  enthusiasm  of  compas- 
 sion, that  touches  with  pathos,  and  even  with  sublimity,  the  common  face 
 of  nature  and  of  man — looking  at  all  common  things  from  a  visionary's 
 standpoint, — a  visionary,  free  from  supernatural  terror,  but  never  entirely 
 free  from  the  world's  sorrow, — from  the  consciousness  of  age  waiting  upon 
 youth,  of  fatigue  following  after  pleasure,  of  love  ending  in  loss,  and  life 
 vanishing  in  death.  And  then,  amidst  the  mingled  reverence  and  compas- 
 sion of  this  sentimental  temper,  )  ou  have  the  awakenings  of  the  higher 
 spiritual  temper,  that  has  its  finest  expression  in  Buddhism,  and  its  counter- 
 part in  what  the  modern  idealist  describes  as  the  "  cosmic  emotion ; "  the 
 effort  to  set  life's  purposes  and  hopes  beyond  the  personal  state,  the  en- 
 deavour to  "  make  the  mind  its  own  state,''  by  training  it  to  take  its  stand 
 by  the  facts  of  thought  and  intellect ;  and  the  attempt  to  liberate  the  Soul 
 from  the  painful  sense  of  the  impermanency  and  imperfection  of  material 
 conditions,  not  by  encouraging  it  to  hope  for  a  change  of  these  external 
 conditions,  but  by  urging  it  to  the  conquest  of  spiritual  disinterestedness. 
 
 Now,  the  only  means  of  proving  to  you   that  these  are  the  essential 
 
 VOL.  I.  K. 
 
I30  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 qualities  of  old  Indian  poetry  will  be  to  send  you  to  the  Ramayan  and 
 Mahabharat ;  and  all  that  I  can  do  now  is  to  direct  your  attention  to  some 
 stories,  here  and  there,  that  may  illustrate  these  qualities,  and  prove  to  you 
 that  they  do  not  exist  merely  in  my  own  imagination.  These  stories  them- 
 selves you  will,  of  course,  expect  to  find  Eastern,  and  of  the  old  world.  It 
 is  the  sentiment  these  stories  express  that  I  am  supposing  you  will  find 
 more  in  harmony  with  modern  feeling  than  the  sentiment  that  pervades 
 mediaeval  romance. 
 
 The  first  story  I  have  chosen  from  the  Mahabharat  is  a  curious  example 
 of  the  exactly  opposite  sentiments  that  inspire  Indian  and  mediaeval 
 legends.  I  need  not  remind  you  of  the  beautiful  story  of  the  perfect 
 knight  Sir  Galahad,  and  of  many  other  stories  of  sinless  knights  and  holy 
 maidens,  who  are  made  indifferent  to  earthly  love  by  the  vision  of  celestial 
 beauty  ?  In  the  Indian  story  you  have  the  opposite  of  this  :  you  have  the 
 ideal  maiden  rendered  indifferent  to  celestial  beauty  by  the  vision  of  human 
 sorrow. 
 
 Once  upon  a  time,  then, — to  begin  my  story  in  good  old  orthodox 
 fashion, — there  was  a  young  Rajah,  named  Nala,  who  was  famous  through- 
 out all  India  for  his  good  looks,  kind  heart,  and  many  accomplishments. 
 In  a  neighbouring  country  to  Rajah  Nala's,  reigned  another  rajah,  who 
 had  a  daughter  of  astonishing  goodness  and  beauty.  Now  Rajah  Nala  had 
 heard  so  much  of  the  beauty  of  Rajah  Bhima's  daughter,  that  he  fell  deeply 
 ill  love  with  her,  although,  of  course,  he  had  never  seen  her;  and  so 
 much  in  love  was  he  that  he  gave  up  all  his  studies  and  favourite  amuse- 
 ments, and  spent  the  leisure  that  the  affairs  of  State  left  him  in  wandering 
 to  and  fro  in  a  solitary  and  shady  grove  near  his  palace,  meditating  upon 
 the  beautiful  young  princess,  and  repeating  her  name  over  and  over  again 
 with  all  manner  of  endearing  epithets.  Now  the  name  of  Rajah  Bhima's 
 daughter  was  Damayanti.  One  day,  when  the  young  Rajah  was  wandering 
 thus  in  his  favourite  grove,  a  flock  of  swans  flew  by  him,  and  Rajah  Nala, 
 stretching  forth  his  hand  carelessly,  caught  one  of  the  beautiful  birds. 
 Then  the  swan  said  to  him  :  "  Rajah  Nala,  do  let  me  go,  and  I  will  carry 
 a  message  for  you  to  the  maiden  whom  you  love." 
 
 "  Who  is  the  maiden  I  love,  you  foolish  swan? "asked  the  Rajah. 
 
 And  the  swan  replied  :  "  I  had  need  be  foolish,  indeed,  if  I  did  not 
 know  that  !  My  home  is  in  this  wood  ;  and  do  I  not  hear  you  every  day 
 murmur  over  and  over,  in  the  most  tiresome  fashion,  the  name  of  the 
 Princess  Damayanti?" 
 
 Then  Rajah  Nala  was  a  little  confused.  But  he  was  pleased,  on  the 
 whole,  with  the  swan's  proposal,  and  he  began  a  very  long  message  ;  but 
 the  swan  stopped  him  in  the  midst  of  it  saying  :  "  Hush  !  I  should  never 
 remember  all  that.  Better  leave  the  message  to  me,  and  be  sure  1  will 
 plead  your  cause  well  with  the  Princess." 
 
 So  Rajah  Nala  consented ;  he  opened  his  hand,  and  the  swan  flew  away, 
 straight  off  in  the  direction  of  the  country  ruled  over  by  Rajah  Bhima. 
 
OLD  INDIAN  POETRY  AND   RELIGIOUS    THOUGHT.     131 
 
 Next  day  the  Princess  Damayanti  was  playing  at  ball  in  the  garden  of 
 her  father's  palace  with  the  young  maidens  who  were  her  companions. 
 Presently,  over  the  garden  wall,  flew  a  flock  of  beautiful  swans,  and  began 
 to  flutter  about  in  the  garden,  as  though  to  tempt  the  young  girls  to  run 
 after  them.  And  so  they  all  did,  with  cries  of  delight ;  but  nobody  caught 
 a  swan  except  Damayanti,  who  flung  her  arms  round  the  most  beautiful 
 bird  of  all  the  flock. 
 
 The  swan  pretended  to  be  in  a  great  fright,  and  cried  out :  "  Oh,  let  me 
 go,  do  let  me  go,  Princess  Damayanti !  And  I  will  tell  you  the  name  of 
 llie  handsomest  young  rajah  in  the  whole  world,  who  is  pining  away  for 
 love  of  you." 
 
 Then  the  princess  said  :  "  What  nonsense  you  talk,  you  foolish  swan  ! 
 I  have  never  left  my  father's  palace ;  how  then  should  any  young  rajah  be 
 j)ining  for  love  of  me  ?  " 
 
 "  The  fame  of  your  beauty,  Damayanti,  has  flown  abroad  like  a  messenger 
 of  love,  and  it  has  so  moved  the  heart  of  the  young  Rajah  Nala  that  he 
 does  nothing  but  sigh  forth  your  name  day  and  night." 
 
 The  Princess  asked  :  "  And  what  sort  of  prince  is  this  Rajah  Nala,  you 
 foolish  swan  ?  " 
 
 And  the  swan  answered  :  *'  No  such  prince  has  ever  ruled  in  all  India  ! 
 He  is  beloved  everywhere,  amongst  great  and  small  ;  and  amongst  his  own 
 subjects  he  is  known  by  the  name  of  'The  Protector  of  the  Poor.'  In  fact, 
 so  noble  a  man  is  Nala,  tliat  only  the  noblest  and  most  beautiful  of  prin- 
 cesses is  worthy  to  espouse  him  ;  and  my  reason  for  coming  here  to-day 
 was  to  see  whether  the  Princess  Damayanti  was  deserving  of  the  love  he 
 gives  her." 
 
 Then  Damayanti  asked,  anxiously  :  "  And  what  do  you  think  now,  good 
 swan  ?     Am  I  worthy  of  the  love  of  the  noble  Nala  ?  " 
 
 "  Yes,"  the  swan  answered.  "  You  alone  of  all  the  maidens  in  the  land 
 of  India  are  worthy  of  him." 
 
 "  Well,  if  you  think  that,"  said  Damayanti,  releasing  the  swan,  "do  fly 
 back  at  once  to  Nala  and  tell  him  so." 
 
 Now,  after  this  conversation  with  the  swan,  a  great  change  took  place  in 
 the  young  Princess  Damayanti.  She  was  no  longer  as  merry  as  she  had 
 once  been  ;  she  wearied  of  her  favourite  games ;  she  would  not  even  eat 
 the  nicest  sweatmeats  ;  and  her  old  nurse  reported  that  she  was  restless  in 
 her  sleep.  Rajah  Bhima,  who  was  devotedly  fond  of  his  daughter,  grew 
 very  anxious.  But  the  Ranee,  Damayanti's  mother,  said  that  was  no  cause 
 for  uneasiness,  only  that  it  was  now  time  enough  for  the  young  princess  to 
 celebrate  her  swayamvara. 
 
 The  sjvayamvara  was  the  festival  given  by  any  Indian  chief  who  had 
 a  daughter  arrived  at  marriageable  age.  The  young  chieftains  who  felt 
 disposed  to  aspire  to  the  hand  of  the  princess  were  invited  to  attend  this 
 festival ;  and  there  were  games  of  skill  to  show  off  the  suitors'  strength  and 
 courage  ;  and  then,  at  the  end  of  the  festival,  the  princess  herself  was  called 
 
132  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 upon  to  choose  a  bridegroom  for  herself  amongst  her  suitors.  You  see  by 
 this  that  in  the  old  Hindu  world  there  were  none  of  those  modern  arbitrary 
 marriage  customs  that  make  the  daughter  her  father's  chattel,  to  be  disposed 
 of  in  childhood  without  any  question  as  to  her  own  feelings  and  inclinations; 
 and  you  will  find  too,  by  the  study  of  the  old  sacred  poetry  of  India,  that 
 the  position  of  women  Avas  comparatively  independent  and  dignified  in 
 these  ages,  and  up  to  the  period  of  the  Mohammedan  conquest  of  India. 
 A  great  deal  is  said,  of  course,  about  the  absolute  devotion  and  obedience 
 a  woman  owes  her  husband ;  but  I  don't  think  the  Indian  poets  insist 
 upon  this  matter  any  more  than  St.  Paul  does.  And,  in  any  case,  we  find 
 that  the  women  in  the  Ramayan  and  Mahabharat  were  rather  true  and 
 devoted  than  abjectly  submissive  wives.  There  is  nothing  said  about  the 
 seclusion  of  women ;  or  about  their  being  forbidden  to  go  about  unveiled  ; 
 or  about  their  being  shut  out  from  the  business  and  pleasure  of  life,  by  the 
 rule,  of  Mohammedan  origin,  that  a  married  woman  must  never  see  any 
 man  but  her  husband. 
 
 But  this  is  a  digression  :  the  Ramayan  and  Mahabharat  are  interesting 
 from  a  hundred  different  points  of  view ;  but  it  would  take  up  too  much 
 time,  and  would  be  turning  aside  from  the  i)oint  of  view  we  have  chosen, 
 if  I  were  to  dwell  now  upon  the  many  interesting  disclosures  of  the  prevail- 
 ing social  customs  and  ideas  of  ancient  India,  that  are  given  even  in  these 
 episodes  we  are  now  considering.  Those  of  you,  however,  who  are  in- 
 terested in  the  matter,  might  read  Sir  Monier  Williams's  valuable  work  on 
 old  Indian  poetry. 
 
 So  now  let  us  return  to  the  swayamvara  of  the  Princess  Damayanti. 
 Rajah  Bhima  sent  out  his  heralds  far  and  near,  to  proclaim  the  festival, 
 and  to  invite  all  the  eligible  young  rajahs  to  attend.  Of  course,  Rajah 
 Nala  heard  the  news,  and  ordered  his  chariot  forthwith,  and  started  off  full 
 of  hope  and  expectation  ;  for  the  swan  had  safely  brought  him  back  Da- 
 mayanti's  message.  The  fame  of  Damayanti's  beauty  was  so  great,  and 
 also  the  Rajah  Bhima's  wealth  and  power  were  so  well  known,  that  there 
 was  a  sound  of  chariot  wheels  throughout  all  the  land  of  India,  so  many 
 young  rajahs  were  there,  hastening  from  north,  south,  east,  and  west,  to  tlie 
 swaya)nvara  of  Damayanti. 
 
 Now  the  noise  made  by  all  these  chariots,  travelling  in  one  direction, 
 mounted  up  to  Swarga,  the  heavenly  mountain,  where  the  Sky  God,  Indra, 
 dwelt  with  the  other  gods — Agni,  lord  of  fire  ;  Varun,  lord  of  waters;  and 
 Yamii,  god  of  death. 
 
 Indra's  curiosity  was  excited  by  all  this  noise,  so  he  sent  the  gods' 
 messenger  Naruda,  the  Indian  Mercury,  to  see  what  could  be  hajjpening  on 
 the  earth.  Naruda  came  back  with  the  news  that  all  this  commotion  was 
 caused  by  the  fact  that  the  most  beautiful  young  princess  in  the  world  was 
 giving  her  swayamvara.  When  Indra  heard  this,  he  rose  from  liis  throne, 
 and  calling  to  Agni,  Varun,  and  Varna,  he  suggested  that  they  too  should 
 go    to    the   S7vayanivara,   and    present    themselves    amongst    Damayanti's 
 
OLD  INDIAN  POETRY  AND   RELIGIOUS    THOUGHT.     133 
 
 suitors.     So,  the  other  gods  consenting,  their  cloud  chariots  were  called  ; 
 and  Indra,  Agni,  Varun,  and  Yama  started  for  the  earth. 
 
 Now  it  hai)pened  that  just  when  the  gods  dismounted  from  their  cloud 
 chariots.  Rajah  Nala  was  passing  by.  So  Indra  called  to  Nala,  and  Nala 
 approached  the  gods  with  due  reverence. 
 
 And  Indra  said  to  Nala  :  "  Hold,  Rajah  Nala,  we,  the  gods,  know  you 
 for  a  religious  man,  who  always  pays  the  gods  the  honour  due  to  them. 
 Now,  therefore,  we  have  chosen  you  to  be  our  messenger." 
 
 'I'hen  Nala  raised  his  hands  to  his  head  in  salutation,  and  asked  the 
 gods  what  message  he  was  to  carry,  and  to  whom. 
 
 "  You  are  to  go  at  once  to  the  Princess  Damayanti,"  Indra  said ;  "  and 
 to  tell  her  that  we,  the  four  gods — Indra,  Varun,  Agni,  and  Yama — having 
 heard  that  her  great  beauty  makes  her  worthy  to  be  the  bride  of  an  immor- 
 tal, are  going  to  present  ourselves  at  her  sicayamvara  as  suitors  for  her 
 hand.  And  you  must  tell  her  that  we  will  reveal  ourselves  to  her  by  indis- 
 putable signs,  so  that  she  may  not  make  the  fatal  error  of  choosing  a  mor- 
 tal bridegroom." 
 
 Then  Rajah  Nala  trembled  violently  ;  and  he  fell  upon  his  knees,  and 
 entreated  Indra  not  to  send  him  on  this  errand. 
 
 "  O  Indra,"  he  said,  "  I,  too,  love  Damayanti ;  and  even  when  you  met 
 me,  I  was  hurrying  to  her  sivayamvara.'" 
 
 But  Indra  only  laughed  scornfully,  and  s:iid  :  "  Well,  Rajah  Nala,  you 
 are  a  well-looking  young  prince  enough  ;  but  I  suppose  you  do  not  set 
 yourself  u[)  as  a  rival  to  the  immortals?  There  was  no  presumption  in 
 your  putting  yourself  forward  as  Damayanti's  suitor ;  but  now  that  you 
 know  that  you  have  Indra,  Agni,  Varun,  and  Yama  to  CDmpete  with,  do 
 you  think  you  have  any  chance  of  success  ?  Besides,  all  that  does  not 
 matter:  mortals  have  no  business  to  consult  their  own  feeling  before  obey- 
 ing the  orders  of  the  gods  ;  and  we  order  you  to  take  our  message  to  the 
 lovely  Princess  Damayanti  forthwith." 
 
 "But  how  can  I  do  this,  Indra?"  Nala  asked.  "You  know  that  the 
 Princess  Damayanti  is  safely  guarded  in  her  father's  palace.  Do  you  think 
 that  Rajah  Bhima's  gatekeepers  would  admit  me,  a  strange  man,  to  the 
 young  maiden's  presence  ?  " 
 
 "  That  need  be  no  difficulty  for  you,"  said  Indra  ;  "  by  our  power  we  can 
 make  you  invisible  to  Rajah  Bhima's  guards,  and  can  even  pass  you  safely 
 through  the  palace  walls." 
 
 And  even  whilst  Indra  spoke,  Nala  felt  himself  hurried  off  swiftly 
 through  the  air ;  and  before  he  had  time  for  reflection,  he  found  himself 
 standing  in  the  women's  quarter  of  Rajah  Bhima's  palace  ;  and  in  the  very 
 apartment  where  Damayanti  sat  at  work  amongst  her  young  maidens. 
 
 You  will  understand  how  astonished  these  young  ladies  all  were  to  see  a 
 handsome  young  rajah,  dropped  down  in  the  midst  of  them,  as  it  seemed, 
 from  the  clouds.  Nala  himself  was  so  bewildered  by  Damayanti's  great 
 beauty— that  surpassed  anything  he  had  dreamt  of — that  he  could   not 
 
134  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 speak  to  her.  Damayanti,  however,  soon  recovered  her  presence  of  mind. 
 She  felt  convinced  that  this  must  be  the  Rajah  Nala;  for  had  not  the  swan 
 told  her  that  Nala  was  the  handsomest  prince  in  the  world  ?  and  who 
 could  be  handsomer  than  this  young  stranger  ?  So  she  raised  her  hands 
 to  her  forehead  in  polite  salutation,  and,  approaching  Nala,  asked  him,  in 
 a  gentle  voice,  by  what  means  he  had  come  there,  and  what  it  was  that  he 
 wished  to  say. 
 
 Then  Nala  dared  not  look  at  the  beautiful  Damayanti,  lest  he  should  be 
 betrayed  into  falseness  to  the  gods;  but  he  answered:  "I  have  come 
 here,  invisible  to  your  father's  guards,  noble  Damayanti ;  I  have  been 
 given  power  to  pass  through  these  thick  palace  walls,  by  the  commands  of 
 the  four  gods — Indra,  Agni,  Varun,  and  Yama.  The  fame  of  your  beauty 
 has  mounted  up  to  Swarga  ;  so  that  the  gods  are  resolved  to  come  to  your 
 S7vaya>nvara.  They  have  sent  me  to  warn  you  that  they  will  make  them- 
 selves known  to  you  by  showing  signs  of  their  immortality,  and  these 
 signs  will  prevent  you  from  confounding  them  with  your  merely  mortal 
 suitors." 
 
 Then  Damayanti  smiled,  and  said  :  "  I  have  always  paid  due  reverence 
 and  worship  to  the  gods ;  but  ever  since  my  conversation  with  the  swan  I 
 have  determined  to  give  my  love  to  none  but  Rajah  Nala." 
 
 But  Nala  shook  his  head,  sadly  :  "  That  was  very  well,  noble  Dama- 
 yanti," he  said,  "  before  you  had  the  gods  amongst  your  wooers.  But 
 when  your  eyes  fall  on  the  eternally  radiant  and  happy  gods,  how  should 
 you  keep  in  your  recollection  a  wretched  man  like  me  ?  " 
 
 Damayanti,  however,  assured  Nala  that  she  would  choose  no  one  else  ; 
 and  presently  the  young  Rajah  felt  himself  pulled,  as  it  were,  by  strong 
 cords ;  and  Damayanti,  and  the  apartment  in  Rajah  Bhima's  palace, 
 vanished  ;  and  Nala  found  himself  standing  by  the  roadside,  where  Indra, 
 Agni,  Varun,  and  Yama,  were  waiting  for  him.  Rajah  Nala  told  the  four 
 gods  precisely  what  Damayanti  had  said — that  she  would  give  the  gods 
 due  worship,  but  that  her  love  and  her  hand  she  would  only  give  to  Nala. 
 
 But  Indra  only  smiled,  and  said  :  "Well,  we  shall  see  how  that  will  be 
 when  the  time  comes.  But,  meanwhile,  you  have  earned  the  favour  of 
 the  gods  by  your  faithfulness  as  their  messenger." 
 
 The  day  of  the  swayamvara  came  at  last ;  and  there  was  a  great  camp 
 round  Rajah  Bhima's  palace,  made  by  the  retinue  of  all  the  rich  and 
 mighty  rajahs  who  had  come,  with  elephants  and  horses  laden  with  gifts 
 and  treasures,  and  any  number  of  retainers  and  servants,  so  as  to  make  a 
 display  of  their  magnificence.  All  the  rajahs  were  assembled  in  the  great 
 audience  hall,  that  was  made  dazzling  by  the  silken  turbans  and  jewelled 
 raiment  of  these  magnificent  suitors.  But  Damayanti  had  only  eyes  for 
 one  amongst  all  this  crowd,  and  she  sought  eagerly  amongst  her  suitors 
 for  Rajah  Nala.  'ihen,  to  her  surprise  and  dismay,  she  made  a  strange 
 discovery  ;  behold,  there  were  five  men  in  the  throng  of  suitors  exactly 
 alike,  and  all  five  wore  the  countenance  and  outward  appearance  of  Rajah 
 Nala  : 
 
OLD  INDIAN  POETRY  AND  RELIGIOUS    THOUGHT.     135 
 
 Then  Damayanti  understood  that  Indra,  Varun,  Agni,  and  Yama  had 
 taken  tliis  lorm,  because  slie  had  said  that  she  would  choose  no  other 
 suitor  but  Nala.  So  she  raised  her  hands  to  her  forehead,  and  bowing  her- 
 self reverently,  she  said:  "1  have  always  paid  due  worship  to  the  gods. 
 May  the  immortals  now  be  true  to  their  promise,  and  show  me  the  signs 
 by  which  I  may  know  them  as  greater  and  more  gifted  than  common 
 men." 
 
 And  as  Damayanti  spoke,  a  greater  radiance  fell  upon  four  of  the  five 
 men  ;  whilst,  by  contrast,  the  fifth  seemed  to  stand  in  a  dark  shadow. 
 Damiiyanti  knew  the  gods,  because  their  eyes,  that  had  never  shed  tears, 
 looked  straight,  and  did  not  blink  ;  because  their  raiment  shone  without 
 one  speck  of  dust,  showing  they  did  not  toil  ;  because  their  feet,  where 
 tiiey  stood,  did  not  touch  the  earth,  showing  they  were  not  doomed  to  ever 
 mingle  with  the  dust,  or  to  undergo  the  doom  of  death.  But  Nala,  the 
 man  Nala,  had  a  certain  dimness  of  the  eyes,  because  he  had  wept,  and 
 had  yet  to  weep  ;  on  his  raiment  was  the  dust  that  told  he  was  con- 
 demned to  human  toil  ;  and  his  feet  touched  the  earth,  because,  earth- 
 born,  he  was  doomed  to  die.  And  Damayanti,  looking  upon  Nala,  loved 
 him  all  the  more  because  of  these  signs  of  the  common  human  destiny  and 
 fate  he  shared  with  her;  and  so,  stepping  down  from  her  throne,  and 
 passing  by  the  great  immortals,  she  raised  the  hem  of  Nala's  garment  and 
 kissed  it,  in  token  that  she  chose  him  for  her  lord.  So  Nala  and  Dama- 
 yanti were  married. 
 
 And  now  I  am  afraid  I  must  forego  the  pleasure  of  telling  you  their 
 future  story,  although  it  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  of  stories  ;  but  then 
 it  has  no  direct  bearing  on  the  subject  of  my  lecture.  You  will  find  the 
 story  told  by  Mr.  'rali:)oys  Wlieeler  in  the  second  volume  of  his  Early 
 History  of  India :  and  you  may  read  tiie  literal  translation  from  the 
 Mahabharat  in  tiie  admirable  French  version  of  M.   Hippolyte  Fauche.  ^ 
 
 Tliis  story  of  Damayanli's  choice  is  only  one  amongst  many  that  might 
 be  chosen  from  the  Ramdyan  and  Mahabharat,  in  illustration  of  the  en- 
 thusiasm of  compassion  tliat  belongs  to  the  sentimental  temper  of  old 
 Indian  poetry.  There  is  the  admirable  story  of  how  Valmiki,  the  supposed 
 narrator  of  the  Ramayan  received  the  gift  of  poetry.-^  Valmiki  is  a  holy 
 hermit,  leading  a  life  of  meditation  in  the  forest.  The  constant  subject  of 
 his  meditation  is  tlie  sorrow  of  the  world.  One  day  the  God  Brahma  tells 
 him  the  story  of  Rama.  Valmiki  feels  that  if  only  a  Poet  could  be  found  to 
 sing  this  story  of  a  perfect  life,  in  noble  verse,  then  men  would  be  urged  to 
 kinder,  purer,  nobler  lives.  But  he,  Valmiki,  is  no  Poet.  What  is  to  be  done 
 to  find  one  worthy  of  so  noble  a  task  ?  Valmiki  ponders  the  matter  over 
 many  days.     Then,  one  morning,  it  chances  that  he  stands  on  the  border 
 
 '  Vana-Pai~i'a,  3  vols  ,  Fauche's  Mahd-bhdi-at.  (The  episode  of  Nala  and  Damayanti 
 is  related  by  the  Sage  Vrihadasva  to  Viuldisthira.) 
 
 ^  See  my  Iliad  of  the  East,  opening  chapter;  -xX^o  Freiich  Translation  of  Ramdyana, 
 by  M.  Hippolyte  Fauche. 
 
136  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  a  clear  pool  near  his  hermitage,  where  he  is  wont  to  perform  those  ablu- 
 tions that  form  part  of  a  Brahman's  religious  duties;  and  opposite  him,  across 
 the  pool,  he  observes  two  herons,  of  lovely  plumage,  flapping  their  wings 
 and  flying  to  and  fro,  full  of  innocent  delight  in  life.  But  suddenly  one  of 
 the  birds  falls,  struck  by  a  hunter's  arrow ;  and  the  pure  waters  of  the  pool 
 are  stained  by  a  track  of  blood!  Then  Valmiki  is  so  moved  to  compassion 
 and  anger,  that  a  cry  breaks  from  his  heart — a  cry  of  lamentation  for  the 
 innocent  bird's  death,  and  for  the  hunter's  cruelty.  And  his  words  take  a 
 rhythmical  measure  that  is  full  of  passionate  music  ;  and  having  once  re- 
 peated them,  he  feels  compelled  again  and  again  to  say  the  words  over 
 and  over.  Then  Valmiki,  marvelling  much  at  what  has  befallen  him,  re- 
 turns to  his  hermitage.  And  on  the  road  he  meets  Brahma,  who  asks  him 
 if  he  has  found  a  poet  worthy  to  tell  the  story  of  the  perfect  man  Rama  ? 
 Valmiki  means  to  answer  that  he  has  not  \  but  instead  of  speaking  the 
 words  he  would,  the  lamentation  for  the  heron's  death  rushes  to  his  lips, 
 and  he  is  confused  and  abashed  before  Brahma,  fearing  the  God  may  think 
 he  means  to  mock  him.     But  Brahma  smiles,  and  says, — 
 
 "  Happy  Valmiki  !  You  have  received  the  grace  of  Sarasvati,  goddess 
 of  poetry,  in  recompense  for  your  pity  for  the  heron.  Go  now,  and  sing 
 to  the  listening  worlds  the  story  of  the  perfect  man  Rama." 
 
 In  Valmiki  you  have  the  type  of  the  holy  and  benevolent  hermit  of 
 Indian  story.  But  there  is  a  hermit  of  quite  another  type  and  character, 
 who  is  very  frequently  met  with  in  the  Ramayan  and  Mahabharat,  and 
 who  may  even  be  encountered  in  the  actual  India  of  to-day.  Now,  if  we 
 wish  to  avoid  some  fatal  errors  in  judging  Indian  poetry,  and  the  Indian 
 religious  sentiment,  we  must  get  at  clearer  ideas  concerning  the  different 
 spiritual  rank  of  these  two  types  of  hermits.  It  is  from  the  Ramayan  and 
 Mahabharat  we  shall  learn  how  to  distinguish  between  the  dififerent  sort 
 of  respect  paid  to  the  holy  recluse  who  abandons  the  world  to  lead  the 
 religious  life,  and  the  more  common  ascetic,  who  inflicts  all  manner  of 
 strange  penances  upon  himself,  in  order  to  obtain  some  material  advant- 
 ages or  to  acquire  magical  powers.  You  find  in  old  Indian  poetry,  just 
 as  you  find  in  the  superstitious  fancy  of  India  to-day,  a  very  strong  con- 
 viction that  magical  powers  are  acquired  by  self-macerations  and  penitential 
 exercise.  But  these  magical poivers  are  not  regarded  as  spiritual  gifts  at 
 all :  they  are  looked  upon  as  material  advantages,  purchased  by  material 
 means.  If  you  have  read  the  beautiful  Buddhist  Suttas  contained  in  the 
 tenth  volume  of  The  Sacred  Books  of  the  East,  you  will  remember  that,  in 
 the  Tevigga  Sutta,  Buddha  describes  the  miracle-workers  of  his  day  as 
 worldly-minded  men,  who  give  themselves  up  to  low  arts  and  lying 
 practices,  from  which  the  true  Bikshu  (or  religious  man)  will  abstain.  And 
 in  old  Indian  poetry  also  you  find  these  wonder-working  ascetics  described 
 as  personages  whom  it  is  dangerous  to  offend,  but  not  at  all  as  men  who 
 are  admirable  for  their  virtuous  lives  or  good  behaviour.  On  the  con- 
 trary, all  the  most  famous  ascetics  of  the  Ramayan  and  Mahabharat,  and 
 
OLD  INDIAN  POETRY  AND   RELIGIOUS    THOUGHT.     137 
 
 those  whose  miraculous  powers  are  most  remarkable,  are  represented  as  ill- 
 natured,  vindictive,  and  licentious.  One  of  these  worthies,  Vibishana  by 
 name,  withdraws  himself  from  all  the  joys  of  life,  and  inflicts  inhuman 
 torments  upon  himself  for  I  don't  remember  how  many  years,  with  the  sole 
 purpose  of  obtaining  power  to  wither  at  a  glance  any  being,  man  or  animal, 
 who  may  chance  to  disturb  his  meditations  !  And  Ravana,  the  demon 
 of  the  Ramayan,  has  obtained  all  his  magical  power  for  mischief  through 
 years  of  devotion  to  penitential  exercises. 
 
 These  penitential  exercises,  then,  do  not  suppose  a  spiritual  temper  in 
 those  who  practise  them,  but  rather  the  reverse.  You  will  recollect  that 
 almost  the  first  step  Gotama  takes  on  his  path  to  the  Buddhahood  is  the 
 discovery  that  the  fastings  and  self-macerations  recommended  by  the 
 I'rahmans  are  useless  as  means  for  obtaining  spiritual  enlightenment.  And 
 in  his  first  sermon — the  Stttta  entitled  "The  Foundation  of  the  Kingdom 
 of  Righteousness  " — Buddha  declares  that  self-torture  is  as  harmful  as  self- 
 indulgence  to  the  spiritual  mind.  The  object  of  the  true  ascetic,  Buddha 
 says,  is  not  to  afflict  his  body,  but  to  subdue  his  body  to  his  spirit,  so  that 
 the  best  energy  may  be  thrown  into  the  higher  life.  You  need  not  expect 
 to  find  this  stated  with  the  same  clear  elocjuence  and  power  in  the 
 Ramayan  and  Mahabharat ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  you  do  find,  amidst 
 the  crowd  of  malignant  ascetics,  whose  appearance  in  any  story  is  always 
 a  sign  of  coming  mischief,  a  hermit,  here  and  there,  of  calm  and  beautiful 
 temper,  who  declares  these  penitential  practices,  and  the  magical  powers 
 obtained  through  them,  to  be  unworthy  of  those  who  have  truly  entered 
 upon  the  religious  life. 
 
 I  shall  hope  to  make  this  very  important  matter  plain  to  you,  by  the 
 stories  of  two  eminent  penitents—"  Bulls  amongst  Penitents,'"  the  Indian 
 poet  calls  them — who  tread  in  the  fantastic  world  of  old  story  something 
 of  the  same  path  that  is  made  noble  and  earnest  afterwards  by  the  holy 
 footprints  of  Buddha. 
 
 The  first  of  these  "  Bulls  amongst  Penitents  "  is  by  no  means  a  holy 
 man  to  start  with,  I  am  speaking  of  the  mighty  Rajah  Visvamitra.  Those 
 amongst  you  who  are  readers  of  German  poetry  may  have  heard  his  name 
 before,  for  Heine  has  a  satirical  verse  at  his  expense.  Here  is  an  English 
 reading  of  it — 
 
 •'The  mighty  monarch   Visvamilra 
 
 Plagues  himself,   by  solemn  vow  : 
 He  would  gain  the   Priest  Vasistha's 
 
 Most  esteemed  and  sacred  Cow. 
 O,   most  mighty  Visvamitra  ! 
 
 What  strange  animal  art  thou  ? 
 \Yhat,  these  pains,  these  macerations, 
 
 Only  to  obtain  a  Cow? 
 
 Heine,  however,  is  a  little  unjust  to  Rajah  Visvamitra  :  the  cow  for 
 whose  sake  he  macerates  himself  is  no  ordinary  animal ;  she  is  truly,  as 
 the  Indian  poet  declares,  a  "  pearl  amongst  ruminant  creatures "  ;  inas- 
 much as  whosoever  milks  her  obtains  the  object  of  his  desires.     So  that, 
 
138  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 after  all,  Visvamitra's  object  was  much  the  same  as  the  objects  of  the 
 prayers  and  religious  observances  of  the  worldly-minded  man,  in  all  ages, 
 and  of  all  religions. 
 
 Rajah  Visvamitra,  before  the  desire  for  this  inestimable  cow  troubles  his 
 peace  of  mind,  is  described  as  a  wealthy  and  powerful  monarch,  who  has 
 become  weary  of  peaceful  prosperity,  and  who  starts  off  with  a  large  army 
 in  search  of  adventures.  He  finds  very  few.  Every  one  is  so  afraid  of  him 
 that  he  cannot  possibly  contrive  to  stir  up  any  quarrel.  The  Rajah's 
 method  is  to  ask  all  whom  he  meets  if  they  know  of  any  chief,  or  living  man, 
 so  powerful  as  Visvamitra.  And  the  answer  he  generally  receives  is,  that 
 no  such  powerful  being  exists,  either  on  earth  or  in  Swarga.  One  day, 
 however,  the  Rajah  and  his  army  fall  in  with  a  religious  mendicant,  and 
 Visvamitra,  who  is  a  pious  rajah,  bestows  handsome  gifts  upon  the  beggar, 
 after  which  he  asks  the  mendicant  the  usual  question,  "  Does  he  know  any 
 one  so  magnificent  and  powerful  as  Visvamitra?"  The  religious  mendicant 
 answers  :  "  Truly,  Visvamitra,  you  are  a  magnificent  and  powerful  prince  ! 
 But  I  know  one  man  to  whom  your  magnificence  is  as  that  of  smoke  to 
 the  solid  rock,  and  that  man  is  the  Priest  Vasistha." 
 
 "And  who,  pray,  is  this  Vasistha,  whose  power  is  greater  than  mine?" 
 asked  the  astonished  Visvamitra. 
 
 "  He  is  a  solitary  hermit,"  said  the  religious  mendicant,  "  who  dwells 
 in  the  depths  of  this  forest.  His  garment  is  of  bark,  and  he  lives  on  roots 
 and  berries  :  yet  is  his  power  greater  than  that  of  all  the  rajahs  in  the 
 world." 
 
 Visvamitra's  curiosity  is  excited,  and  he  resolves  to  pay  this  remarkable 
 hermit  a  visit.  So  he  and  his  army  plunge  into  the  forest ;  and  at  last 
 they  discover  the  solitary  cavern  where  Vasistha  dwells.  Vasistha  receives 
 the  Rajah  very  well,  and  they  discourse  upon  spiritual  topics,  and  Rajah 
 Visvamitra  is  about  to  depart  on  his  road  highly  pleased  and  edified.  But 
 unluckily  for  every  one  concerned,  Vasistha  has  the  thought  of  inviting  the 
 Rajah  and  his  army  to  a  feast. 
 
 Visvamitra  at  first  politely  refuses  Vasistha's  offer.  He,  the  Rajah,  can- 
 not imagine  how  this  hermit,  who  himself  feeds  upon  roots  and  berries,  can 
 provide  a  feast  for  an  army  of  men  in  the  midst  of  the  jungle.  Vasistha, 
 however,  assures  the  Rajah  there  is  no  difficulty  in  the  matter.  And  in  an 
 astonishingly  short  space  of  time,  behold,  a  royal  feast  is  spread  on  the 
 grass — a  vegetarian  feast,  you  understand,  but  one  consisting  of  all  manner 
 of  highly  prized  delicacies,  such  as  fried  grain,  sweetmeats,  pastry,  refreshed 
 by  rivers  of  curdled  milk.  The  soldiers  are  highly  delighted,  and  fall  to 
 feasting  with  shouts  of  joy.  But  Rajah  Visvamitra's  appetite  is  spoilt  by 
 envy;  he  cannot  conceive  how  the  Priest  Vasistha  has  provided  this  feast  all 
 in  a  moment,  and  he  begins  to  think  there  may  be  something  in  the  beggar's 
 statement  that  this  hermit  has  powers  greater  than  his  own.  Vasistha  at 
 length  consents  to  explain  the  matter.  He  tells  Visvamitra  that  Mahadeva 
 has  given  him,  as  a  reward  for  his  self-macerations,  a  wonder-working  cow 
 
OLD   INDIAN  POETRY  AND   RELIGIOUS    THOUGHT.     139 
 
 named   Sabala,  and  that  he  has  only  to  milk  this  marvellous  creature  to 
 obtain  from  her  whatever  he  desires. 
 
 Then  Visvamitra's  anger  increases.  "  It  is  not  right,"  he  says,  "  that  a 
 iioly  recluse  leading  a  life  of  penitence  should  possess  a  creature  who  must 
 sorely  tempt  him  to  break  his  vows  of  fasting  and  self-mortification. 
 Therefore,  Vasistha,  it  will  be  for  your  soul's  health  to  give  this  miraculous 
 Sabala  to  me." 
 
 "Not  at  all ! "  answers  Vasistha.  "Sabala  supplies  me  with  the  clarified 
 butter  I  have  to  pour  on  the  sacrificial  fire  ;  and  how  otherwise  should  I 
 obtain  it  in  these  wilds?  " 
 
 "  I  will  see  to  the  matter  of  the  sacrificial  butter,"  answers  Rajah  Vis- 
 vamitra.  "  It  is  a  clear  waste  of  the  immaculate  Sabala's  magical  gifts  to 
 expend  them  on  such  a  trifle.  What  is  more — as  I  am  ruler  over  this 
 country,  I  am  tlie  rightful  owner  of  the  cattle  contained  in  it." 
 
 Vasistha,  however,  refuses  all  bribes,  entreaties,  and  threats.  And 
 when  Visvamitra  at  length  orders  his  soldiers  to  seize  Sabala,  Vasistha 
 hurries  off  and  milks  the  miraculous  cow,  and  obtains  thereby  an  army  twice 
 as  large  as  Visvamitra's. 
 
 In  the  end  the  Rajah  returns  to  his  palace  and  city  very  crestfallen  and 
 sorrowful. 
 
 Me  calls  to  him  at  once  all  the  wise  men  and  Brahmans,  and  consults 
 with  them  how  he  can  humble  Vasistha's  arrogance,  and  obtain  possession 
 of  the  miraculous  cow. 
 
 The  Brahmans  make  answer  : 
 
 "  Earthly  weapons  are  of  no  use  against  Vasistha,  Rajah  Visvamitra.  If 
 you  wish  to  conquer  him  you  must  fight  him  with  his  own  weapons.  His 
 strength  lies  in  the  merits  he  has  acquired  by  his  piety  and  his  many 
 penances.  Can  you  accumulate  merits  by  the  same  methods?  If  not, 
 renounce  all  hope  of  Sabala." 
 
 Rajah  Visvamitra  feels  that  life  has  no  joy  for  him  whilst  Vasistha 
 possesses  Sabala,  So  he  puts  off  his  royal  robes,  abandons  his  palace  and 
 city,  and  goes  forth  into  the  jungle— there  to  lead  the  life  of  self-mortifica- 
 tion and  hardship  that  alone  can  give  him  powers  like  Vasistha's.  I  have 
 not  time  to  tell  you  of  all  the  ingenious  tortures  intlicted  upon  himself  by 
 Rajah  Visvamitra  :  nor  of  his  courage  and  persistency  when,  time  after 
 time,  the  merits  he  has  accumulated  by  virtue  of  his  penances  are  all 
 scattered  to  the  winds  in  punishment  for  some  momentary  forgetfulness  of 
 his  vows.  It  is  a  proof  of  the  malevolent  use  to  which  these  ascetics  were 
 supposed  to  turn  the  i)owers  tiiey  obtained  through  their  penitental  exer- 
 cises, that  the  gods,  out  of  pity  for  mankind,  invariably  try  to  thwart  them 
 in  their  attempts,  or  at  any  rate  to  buy  them  off  by  small  rewards  from 
 laying  up  too  dangerous  a  store  of  merits.  Visvamitra  is  thus  bribed  and 
 tempted  by  the  gods;  but  although  they  delude  and  lead  him  astray,  he 
 always  returns  to  his  purpose  with  renewed  courage.  And  in  the  end  he 
 triumphs  !      He  has  laid  up  such  a  store  of  merits  that  no  favour  he  can 
 
I40  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD 
 
 crave  will  be  denied  him.  And  Indra  himself  comes  humbly  to  know 
 what  is  his  great  request :  and,  of  course,  we  are  prepared  to  hear  him  ask 
 for  the  humiliation  of  Vasistha  and  for  possession  of  the  miraculous  cow. 
 But  Visvamitra  has  lost  all  anger  against  Vasistha,  all  desire  for  Sabala 
 — he  does  not  even  remember  their  existence !  All  he  asks  for  is  spiritual 
 emancipation  and  a  mind  set  free  from  earthly  desires. 
 
 In  Rajah  Visvamitra's  story  you  have  an  example  of  the  freedom,  and 
 even,  one  may  say,  of  the  scepticism  of  the  Indian  poet,  where  the  mere 
 formalities  of  religion  are  concerned.  Visvamitra,  in  his  unregenerate  days, 
 violates  all  the  convenances  of  Brahmanism  ;  he  chooses  to  celebrate  sacri- 
 fices ;  he  curses  away  at  Brahmans  who  offend  him,  just  as  though  they 
 were  ordinary  tchandalas ;  he  insists  upon  raising  his  friend  Trisanku, 
 body  and  all,  to  Swarga ;  and  when  Indra  objects,  he  talks  of  creating 
 new  gods  if  the  established  ones  show  themselves  so  disobliging.  But 
 this  scepticism  affects  only  the  outer  forms,  and  leaves  the  reverence  for 
 spiritual  ideas  untouched. 
 
 In  the  story  of  Rajah  Yayati  ^  you  have,  however,  a  more  serious  and 
 impressive  tone  ;  and  it  is  in  this  story  especially  that  the  student  must 
 feel  he  is  standing  in  the  land  where  presently  will  arise  the  noble  idealism 
 of  Buddha.  Rajah  Yayati  has  the  misfortune  to  take  to  wife  the  daughter 
 of  a  powerful  Brahman  possessed  of  extraordinary  magical  powers.  The 
 Rajah  quarrels  with  his  wife,  and  is  cursed  by  his  Brahman  father-in-law 
 with  premature  old  age.  Transformed  in  the  full  heyday  of  his  youth  into 
 a  decrepit,  tottering  old  man.  Rajah  Yayati  entreats  for  some  itw  years  of 
 vigour,  in  which  to  bid  farewell  to  the  joys  of  life,  that  he  had  taken  so 
 leisurely  when  he  had  not  realized  that  he  was  so  soon  to  lose  them.  The 
 Brahman  consents  that  Rajah  Yayati  may  exchange  his  old  age  against 
 any  happier  man's  youth,  for  a  brief  period  of  years,  but  at  the  end  of  the 
 term  he  must  again  take  up  his  punishment.  After  many  weary  years  of 
 wandering,  Rajah  Yayati  at  length  persuades  the  youngest  of  his  own  sons 
 to  take  upon  his  shoulders  the  punishment  of  premature  old  age,  and  to 
 make  over  to  his  father  his  own  youth.  Then  Rajah  Yayati,  in  the  short 
 period  allowed  him,  resolves  that  he  will  knov/  and  taste  to  the  full  all 
 earthly  joys.  He  first  tries  the  pleasures  of  the  senses,  and  of  luxurious 
 living  ;  then  he  gives  himself  the  excitement  and  adventurous  life  of  a 
 hunter  ;  afterwards  he  tastes  all  the  intellectual  delights  of  philosophy  and 
 poetry.  But  the  result  in  every  case  is  the  same.  He  proves  that  these 
 joys  in  themselves  have  no  existence,  but  that  they  exist  only  as  objects  of 
 desire.  He  returns  then  to  his  son,  and  restores  to  him  his  youthful  vigour 
 and  power  of  enjoyment,  whilst  he  himself  takes  up  again  his  punishment 
 of  old  age.     And  this  is  what  he  says  : — 
 
 "  Behold,  I  have  found  that  the  desired  object  never  satisfies  or  quiets 
 desire;  it  only  feeds  the  flame,  like  the  clarified  butter  poured  on  sacrificial 
 fire. 
 
 *  Mahdbhdrat  Adhi  Purva,  vol.  i.,  Fauche's  Maha-bhdnU. 
 
OLD  INDIAN  POETRY  AND  RELIGIOUS   THOUGHT.      141 
 
 "  Since  all  the  rice,  all  the  barley,  all  the  cattle,  all  the  costly  treasures, 
 and  all  the  loveliest  women  the  earth  contains,  cannot  satisfy  one  man's 
 desire,  therefore  all  that  can  be  done  is  to  kill  desire  itself,  and  cast  it 
 out. 
 
 "  I  will  then,  for  my  part,  put  ofif  this  consuming  thirst  of  desire.  Son, 
 take  again  your  youth ;  for  me,  turning  my  heart  towards  the  contempla- 
 tion of  the  things  of  eternity,  I  will  have  my  habitation  in  the  forest,  the 
 home  of  the  gazelles." 
 
 Rajah  Yayati  then  becomes  a  hermit.  But,  even  so,  his  spiritual 
 training  is  not  complete.  He  practises  severe  penances,  and  by  virtue  of 
 them  obtains  the  privilege  of  mounting  up  to  Swarga  still  clothed  in  his 
 bodily  garment.  One  day,  however.  Rajah  Yayati  boasts  to  Indra,  the 
 sky  god,  of  his  astounding  penances ;  but  these  boastings  rob  Rajah 
 Yayati  of  the  merits  he  has  obtained ;  and  as  he  has  only  reached  Swarga 
 because  of  these  merits,  the  moment  they  are  lost  he  commences  to  fall. 
 He  enters  an  intermediate  state — between  the  earthly  and  celestial  ones 
 — and  here  he  is  made  perfect.  For  he  learns,  that  "  not  where  one  is, 
 but  7vhat  one  is,  is  the  important  fact."  "  Whether  here,  or  in  Swarga, 
 or  on  the  earth,  or  even  in  the  abyss  Naraka,  the  seat  of  my  being  is  in 
 myself,"  says  Rajah  Yayati.  "  Pain  does  not  belong  to  me,  but  grief  for 
 pain  I  can  avoid.  Better  than  Swarga  is  it  to  possess  one's  soul  in 
 tranquillity  !  "  And  as  he  speaks  thus,  there  are  cries  of  triumph  heard 
 around  him.  He  has  reached  perfection,  and  Swarga  is  his  home.  Rajah 
 Yayati,  however,  has  no  impatient  desire  left  for  the  celestial  abode.  He 
 ascends  slowly,  and  as  it  seems  almost  reluctantly,  repeating  as  he  goes  : 
 "  Better  than  Swarga  is  it  to  possess  one's  soul  in  tranquillity !  " 
 
 In  this  legend  you  have,  as  I  have  said,  a  distinct  forecast  of  Buddhism. 
 What  is  more,  I  cannot  but  think  that  people  who  read  the  story  of  Rajah 
 Yayati  with  some  intelligent  attention  must  have  obtained  a  very  clear 
 conception  of  Buddha's  doctrine  of  Nirvana.  At  any  rate,  they  will  hardly 
 fall  into  the  vulgar  error  of  supposing  that  Buddha  promises  annihila- 
 tion, even  as  Christianity  promises  Eternal  Life,  as  a  recompense  for  the 
 perfect  life.  l>uddha  makes  no  promises  ;  he  simply  declares  that  spiritual 
 disinterestedness  is  the  result  and  crown  of  spiritual  culture. 
 
 And  now  let  me,  in  conclusion,  draw  your  attention  to  the  close 
 parallel  that  may  be  found  between  Rajah  Yayati's  triumph  and  the 
 triumph  of  the  comparatively  modern  Teufelsdroeck,  as  this  triumph  is 
 narrated  in  that  finest  chapter  of  Sartor  Besartus,  the  "  Everlasting  No." 
 There  is  this  difference,  however :  Teufelsdroeck's  triumph  is  over  the 
 fear  of  death  and  hell ;  Rajah  Yayati's  over  the  craving  for  celestial 
 beatitude.  It  is  of  Tophet,  and  the  pains  of  Tophet,  that  the  modern 
 idealist  says,  taking  his  stand  by  himself:  "Hast  thou  not  a  heart.!* 
 Canst  thou  not  bear  it,  be  it  what  it  will?"  It  is  of  Swarga  and  of 
 eternal  bliss  that  the  Indian  mystic  can  declare:  "Am  I  not  a  spirit? 
 Shall  I  be  greatly  bettered  or  elated  by  it,  be  it  what  it  may  ?  " 
 
BUDDHISM. 
 
 By  T.  W.  Rhys- Davids. 
 
 It  is  an  essential  doctrine,  which,  among  all  the  various  sects  of  Bud- 
 dhists, has  been  from  the  beginning,  and  still  is,  constantly  insisted  upon, 
 that  there  is  nothing  either  divine  or  human,  either  animal,  vegetable,  or 
 material,  which  is  permanent.  There  is  no  Being,  there  is  only  Becom- 
 ing. This  is  true  of  the  mightiest  of  gods,  as  much  as  of  the  tiniest 
 material  atom.  The  state  of  an  individual,  of  a  thing,  of  a  person  distinct 
 from  its  surroundings  is  unstable,  temporary,  sure  to  pass  away.  It  may 
 last,  as  in  the  case  of  the  mountains,  for  hundreds  of  thousands  of  years  ; 
 or,  as  in  the  case  of  some  insects,  for  some  hours  only  ;  or,  as  in  the  case 
 of  some  chemical  compounds,  for  a  few  seconds  only  ;  but  in  every  case, 
 as  soon  as  there  is  a  beginning,  there  begins  also  at  that  moment  to  be  an 
 ending. 
 
 In  the  lowest  class  of  things  we  find  in  each  individual.  Form,  and 
 various  material  qualities.  In  the  higher  ranks  of  beings,  such  as  animals, 
 men,  etc.,  we  find  also  mental  qualities.  It  is  the  union  of  these  qualities 
 which  make  the  individual.  Every  person,  or  thing,  or  god,  is  therefore 
 a  putting  together,  a  compound,  a  component  individuality,  what  the 
 Buddliists  call  a  Cofifection.  And  in  each  individual,  without  any  exception, 
 the  relation  of  its  component  parts  to  one  another  is  ever  changing,  so 
 that  it  is  never  the  same  for  two  consecutive  moments.  It  follows  that 
 no  sooner  has  separateness,  individuality,  begun  than  dissolution,  dism- 
 tegration,  also  begins.  There  can  be  no  individuality  without  a  putting 
 together ;  there  can  be  no  putting  together,  no  Confection,  without  a 
 Becoming ;  there  can  be  no  becoming  without  a  becoming  different  ;  and 
 there  can  be  no  becoming  different  without  a  dissolution,  a  passing  away, 
 which  sooner  or  later  will  be  inevitably  complete. 
 
 Now,  such  thoughts  as  these  are  really  quite  familiar  to  us  here  in  the 
 West.  We  acknowledge  them  as  true  of  all  inorganic  substances,  and  also 
 of  all  living  organisms,  including  our  own.  Geology  has  taught  us  how  the 
 mightiest  mountain  chains,  the  eternal  hills,  and  the  deepest  ocean  depths, 
 grow  into  being  gradually  and  pass  gradually  away  as  surely  and,  compared 
 with  eternity,  as  quickly  as  the  gorgeous  butterfly.  Astronomy  has  taught  us 
 how  the  broad  earth  itself  had  once  no  individuality  ;  and  how,  as  soon  as  it 
 began  to  be,  it  entered  also  on  a  process  of  becoming,  of  disintegration,  of 
 continual  change,  which  will  never  end  till  it  has  ceased  to  be.  The  people 
 in  Europe  have  inherited  a  belief  in  spirits  or  souls  inside  their  bodies,  and 
 
 M-' 
 
BUDDHISM.  .  143 
 
 in  other  spirits,  good  and  evil,  outside  themselves  ;  and  to  these  spirits 
 they  attribute  an  individuality  without  change,  a  Being  without  Becoming, 
 a  beginning  without  an  end.  Now  the  Buddhists,  like  them,  inherit  from 
 the  animism  (the  spirit  theories)  of  the  savage  the  belief  in  the  existence 
 of  these  external  si)irits.  But  this  belief  has  not  constituted  in  their  minds 
 any  exception  to  the  great  law  of  impermanence  which  underlies  all  Bud- 
 dhist beliefs.  And  with  regard  to  the  internal  soul,  or  spirit,  the  Buddhists 
 do  not  share  the  view  which  is  common  among  Christians  ;  they  do  not 
 acknowledge  any  eternal  and  permanent  essence  inside  the  human  frame  ; 
 they  do  not  admit  of  those  mental  (jualities  and  emotions  which  are  symbol- 
 ized by  the  expression  "  soul "  that  any  of  them  are  free  from  the  great  law 
 of  impermanence. 
 
 Buddhism  goes  even  further,  and  says  that  all  those  great  and  noble 
 qualities,  emotions,  sentiments,  and  desires  which  make  up  the  noblest 
 life  of  man  are  really  discouraged  and  hindered  by  this  belief  in  the  per- 
 manence and  eternity  of  a  semi-material  soul.  No  training  in  ethics  will 
 be  any  real  advantage  to  the  man  who  still  nourishes  this  worst  of  all  super- 
 stitions. 
 
 Secondly,  it  is  a  belief  common  to  all  schools  of  the  Buddhists  that  the 
 origin  of  sorrow  is  precisely  i<lentical    with  the  origin   of  individuality. 
 Sorrow  is  in  fact  the  result  of  the  effort  which  an  individual  has  to  make 
 to  keep  himself  separate  from  the  rest  of  existence.     To  the  universal  law 
 of  composition  and  dissolution  men  and  gods   form   no  exception.     The 
 unity  of  forces   which  constitutes    essential   Being  must  sooner   or  later 
 be  dissolved  ;   and    it    is  to  the  effort  to    delay  that  dissolution  that  all 
 sorrow  and  all  pain  are  due.     Wherever  an  individual   has  become  sepa- 
 rate  from   the  rest   of  existence,   then    immediately  disease,  decay,  and 
 death  begin  to  act  upon  it.     Wherever  there  is  individuality  there  must 
 be   limitation ;  wherever  there  is    limitation    there    must   be   ignorance ; 
 wherever  there  is  ignorance  there  must  be  error ;  wherever  there  is  error 
 there  must  sorrow  come.     As  soon  as  an   individual   begins   to   be,  the 
 outside  world   plays  upon  that  individual  through  the  open  doors  of  its 
 six  senses,   sensations  are  stirred  up    within  it,  giving  rise   to    ideas  of 
 attachment  or  of  repugnance,  and  hence  to  a  desire  to  satisfy  the  feelings 
 so  excited  ;  but   sometimes,  more  often  indeed  than  not,  it  is  impossible 
 for  the  being  thus  affected  to  satisfy  those  cravings  ;  it  cannot  gain  what 
 it  wants,  it  cannot  avoid  what  it  dislikes,  it  cannot  escape  from  change, 
 disintegration,  and  at  last  from  death.     All  these  result  inseparably  from 
 the  struggle  necessary  to  maintain  and  to  carry  on   its  separateness,  its 
 individuality.      This  is  indeed,  as  I  have  elsewhere  pointed  out,  a  larger 
 generalization  than   that   which  says,  "  A  man  is   born  to  trouble  as  the 
 sparks  fly  upward."     It  is  an  attempt  to  give  a  scientific  explanation  of  the 
 great  fact  of   the  existence  of  evil,  and  certainly   the  most    consistent, 
 if  not  the  most  successful,  of  all  the  efforts   that  have  been  made  in  that 
 direction. 
 
144  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 These  are  the  principal  teachings  of  Buddhism  with  regard  to  indi- 
 viduality. It  will  be  seen  that  individuality  is  not  denied.  The  quarrel 
 of  the  Buddhist  teachers  is  against  those  delusions  with  respect  to  in- 
 dividuality by  which  all  persons  still  in  the  animistic  stage  of  thought 
 are  necessarily  deceived.  People  naturally  think  that  they  are  quite 
 separate  both  from  the  world  on  which  they  tread  and  from  the  people 
 and  other  beings  who  inhabit  it.  They  naturally  think  that  they  are 
 separate  both  from  all  things  and  beings  who  have  existed  in  the  past, 
 and  all  things  and  beings  who  will  have  their  existence  in  the  future. 
 They  even  think  that  their  own  self  is  so  important  that  it  cannot  possibly 
 ever  cease  to  be,  and  they  are  constantly  concerning  themselves  with  the 
 ways  and  means  of  making  that  little  self  of  their  own  happy  and  com- 
 fortable for  ever.  The  Buddhist  theory  is,  that  these  ideas  are  for  the 
 most  part  delusions  ;  that  men  are  blinded  by  delusion  as  to  their  separate- 
 ness  from  the  external  world,  that  they  are  blinded  by  delusion  as  to  their 
 separateness  from  other  beings  in  the  past  and  in  the  future.  Men  over- 
 look the  fact  that  they  are  really  no  more  separate  than  a  bubble  in  the 
 foam  of  an  ocean  wave  is  separate  from  the  sea,  or  than  a  cell  in  a  living 
 organism  is  separate  from  the  organism  of  which  it  forms  a  part.  It  is 
 ignorance  that  thus  leads  them  to  think,  "  This  is  I,"  or  "  This  is  mine," 
 just  as  a  bubble  or  a  cell  might  think  itself  an  independent  being. 
 
 A  watchman  in  a  lofty  tower  sees  a  charioteer  driving  his  horse  along 
 the  plain.  The  driver  thinks  he  is  moving  rapidly,  and  the  horse  in  the 
 pride  of  life  seems  to  scorn  the  earth  from  which  it  thinks  itself  so  sepa 
 rate  ;  but  to  the  watchman  above,  horse  and  chariot  and  driver  seem  to 
 crawl  along  the  ground,  and  to  be  as  much  a  part  of  the  earth  as  the 
 horse's  mane,  waving  in  the  wind,  is  a  part  of  the  horse  itself  As  a  child 
 grows  up,  its  mind  reflects  as  in  a  mirror  the  image  of  the  surrounding 
 world,  and  practically  though  unconsciously  it  regards  itself  as  the  centre 
 round  which  the  whole  universe  turns.  Gradually  its  circle  widens  some- 
 what ;  but  the  grown  man  never  escapes  from  the  delusion  of  self,  and 
 spends  his  life  in  a  constant  round  of  desires  and  cares,  longing  for  objects 
 which,  when  attained,  jjroduce  not  happiness,  but  fresh  desires  and  cares. 
 For  the  majority  of  men  these  cares  are  mean,  petty,  and  contemptible  ; 
 but  even  those  whose  ambition  urges  them  to  higher  aims  are  equally 
 seeking  after  vanity,  and  only  laying  themselves  open  to  greater  sorrows 
 and  more  bitter  disappointments. 
 
 So  also  is  it  with  regard  to  the  past  and  to  the  future.  Men,  dazed  b) 
 the  soul  theory,  and  wrapped  up  in  the  jjrescnt,  are  full  of  delusions 
 about  that ;  but  they  fail  also  to  see  that  they  are  the  mere  temporary  and 
 passing  result  of  causes  that  have  been  at  work  during  immeasurable 
 ages  in  the  past  and  that  will  continue  to  act  for  ages  yet  to  come.  It 
 has  been  the  great  service  which  Comtism  has  rendered  to  humanity,  that 
 it  has  taught  peo|)le  to  try  and  realize  the  solidarity  of  the  human  race. 
 The  Buddliist  doctrine  of  Karma  is  an  attempt  made  500  years  before  the 
 
BUDDHISM.  145 
 
 birth  of  Christ  to  formulate  a  similar  but  a  wider  idea.  Men  are  merely 
 the  present  and  temporary  links  in  a  long  chain  of  cause  and  effect,  a 
 chain  in  which  no  link  is  independent  of  the  rest,  can  get  away  from  the 
 rest,  or  can  really,  as  men  think  they  can,  get  away,  start  off,  and  be  by 
 itself  without  the  rest.  Each  link  is  the  result  of  all  that  have  gone 
 before,  and  is  part  and  parcel  of  all  that  will  follow.  And  just  as  truly  as 
 no  man  can  ever  escape  from  his  present  surroundings,  so  can  he  never 
 really  dissociate  himself,  though  he  always  takes  it  for  granted  that  he  can, 
 either  from  the  past  which  has  produced  him,  or  from  the  future  he  is 
 helping  to  make.  There  is  a  real  identity  between  a  man  in  his  present 
 life  and  in  the  future.  But  the  identity  is  not  in  a  conscious  soul  which  shall 
 fly  out  away  from  his  body  after  he  is  dead.  The  real  identity  is  that  of 
 cause  and  effect.  A  man  thinks  he  began  to  be  a  few  years, — twenty,  forty, 
 sixty,— ago.  There  is  some  truth  in  that ;  but  in  a  much  larger,  deeper, 
 truer  sense  he  has  been  (in  the  causes  of  which  he  is  the  result)  for  count- 
 less ages  in  the  past  ;  and  those  same  causes  (of  which  he  is  the  temporary 
 effect)  will  continue  in  other  like  temporary  forms  through  countless  ages 
 yet  to  come.  In  that  sense  alone,  according  to  Buddhism,  each  of  us  has 
 after  death  a  continuing  life. 
 
 It  is  worse  than  no  use,  it  is  full  of  hindrance  for  a  man  to — 
 
 "  Inflate  himself  with  sweet  delusive  hope" 
 
 in  the  impossible.  And  not  only  is  there  no  such  thing  as  an  indivi- 
 duality which  is  p'  rmanent ;— even  were  a  permanent  individuality  to  be 
 possible,  it  would  not  be  desirable,  for  it  is  not  desirable  to  be  separate. 
 The  effort  to  keep  oneself  separate  may  succeed  indeed  for  a  time;  but  so 
 long  as  it  is  successful  it  involves  limitation,  and  therefore  ignorance,  and 
 therefore  pain.  "  No  !  it  is  not  separateness  you  should  hope  and  long 
 for,"  says  the  Buddhist,  "  it  is  union— the  sense  of  oneness  with  all  that 
 now  is,  that  has  ever  been,  that  can  ever  be— the  sense  that  shall  en- 
 large the  horizon  of  your  being  to  the  limits  of  the  universe,  to  the  boun- 
 daries of  time  and  space,  that  shall  lift  you  up  into  a  new  plane  far  beyond, 
 outside  all  mean  and  miserable  care  for  self.  Why  stand  shrinking  there  ? 
 Give  up  the  fools'  paradise  of  '  This  is  I,'  and  '  This  is  mine.'  It  is  a 
 real  fact— the  greatest  of  realities— that  you  are  asked  to  grasp.  Leap 
 forward  without  fear  !  You  shall  find  yourself  in  the  ambrosial  waters  of 
 Nirvana,  and  sport  with  the  Arahats  who  have  conquered  birth  and 
 death  !  " 
 
 This  theory  of  Karma  is  the  doctrine  which  takes  the  place  in  the 
 Buddhist  teaching  of  the  very  ancient  theory  of  "  souls,"  which  the  Chris- 
 tians have  inherited  from  the  savage  beliefs  of  the  earUest  periods  of  history. 
 It  is,  at  the  same  time,  the  Buddhist  explanation.  Mystery  of  Fate,  of  the 
 weight  of  the  universe  pressing  against  each  individual,  which  the  Christians 
 would  explain  by  the  doctrine  of  predestination.  As  I  have  said  else- 
 where, the  fact  underlying  all  these  theories  is  acknowledged  to  be  a  very 
 
 VOL.  I.  L 
 
146  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 real  one.  The  history  of  an  individual  does  not  begin  with  his  birth,  but 
 has  been  endless  ages  in  the  making ;  and  he  cannot  sever  himself  from  his 
 surroundings,  no  not  for  an  hour.  The  tiniest  snowdrop  droops  its  fairy 
 head  just  so  much  and  no  more,  because  it  is  balanced  by  the  universe. 
 It  is  a  snowdrop,  not  an  oak,  and  just  that  kind  of  snowdrop,  because  it 
 is  the  outcome  of  the  Karma  of  an  endless  series  of  past  existences,  and 
 because  it  did  not  begin  to  be  when  the  flower  opened,  or  when  the 
 mother  plant  first  peeped  above  the  ground,  or  first  met  the  embraces  of 
 the  sun,  or  when  the  bulb  began  to  shoot  above  the  soil,  or  at  any  time 
 which  you  and  I  can  fix.  A  great  American  writer  says  :  "It  was  a  poetic 
 attempt  to  lift  this  mountain  of  Fate,  to  reconcile  this  despotism  of  fate 
 with  liberty,  which  led  the  Hindoos  to  say,  Fate  is  nothing  but  the 
 deeds  committed  in  a  prior  state  of  existence.  I  find  the  coincidence  of 
 the  extremes  of  Eastern  and  Western  speculation  in  the  daring  statement 
 of  the  German  philosopher,  Schelling.  '  There  is  in  every  man  a  certain 
 feeling  that  he  has  been  what  he  is  from  all  eternity.'  We  may  put  a  new 
 and  deeper  meaning  into  the  words  of  the  poet : — 
 
 '"Our  deeds  follow  us  from  afar; 
 
 And  what  we  have  been  makes  us  what  we  are.'" 
 
 It  follows  from  the  above  that  the  good  Buddhist  cannot  seek  for  any  sal- 
 vation which  he  is  himself  to  enjoy  in  any  future  world.  The  result  of  his 
 good  actions,  the  fruit  of  his  Karma,  as  the  Buddhists  would  call  it,  will  sur- 
 vive when  he  is  dead,  and  advance  the  happiness  of  some  other  being  or  of 
 some  other  beings  who  will  have  no  conscious  identity  with  himself  But,  so 
 far  as  he  can  reach  salvation,  he  must  reach  it  in  this  present  world,  he  must 
 enjoy  it  in  this  present  life.  The  Buddhist  books  are  constantly  insisting 
 upon  the  foolishness  of  wasting  time  when  there  is  so  much  to  do,  both 
 for  one's  self  and  for  others,  in  any  hankering  after  a  supposed  happiness  of 
 heaven.  And  salvation  here  is  precisely  the  being  delivered  from  delusions 
 with  regard  to  individuality,  by  which  the  ordinary  unconverted  man  is 
 still  deluded.  When  the  mind  has  become  clear  from  these  delusions,  a 
 new  and  wider  brighter  world  reveals  itself  to  the  mind  of  him  who  has 
 "  entered  upon  the  Path."  And  the  Buddhist  books  are  full  of  descriptions 
 of  the  means  which  must  be  adopted  first  to  get  rid  of  the  delusions,  and 
 secondly  to  gain  the  full  heights  of  the  peaceful  city  of  Nirvana,  in  which 
 he  who  is  free  from  these  delusions  lives  and  moves  and  has  his  being. 
 You  have  all  heard  of  the  eight  stages  of  the  Noble  Path  by  which  the 
 Buddhist  walks  towards  his  goal,  but  I  will  venture  to  repeat  them  here  by 
 way  of  reminder.  They  will,  I  hope  you  will  agree  with  me,  bear  repetition. 
 They  are  : — 
 
 (i)  Right  views,  free  from  superstition  or  delusion. 
 
 (2)  Right  aims,  high,  and  worthy  of  intelligent  and  earnest  men. 
 
 (3)  Right  speech,  kindly,  open,  truthful. 
 
 (4)  Right  conduct,  peaceful,  honest,  i)ure. 
 
BUDDHISM.  147 
 
 (5)  Right  livelihood,  bringing  hurt  or  danger  to  no  living  thing. 
 
 (6)  Right  effort  in  self-training  and  self-control. 
 
 (7)  Right  mindfulness,  the  active  watchful  mind. 
 
 (8)  Right  rapture,  earnest  thought  on  the  deep  mysteries  of  life. 
 You  are  perhaps  less  familiar  with   the   thirty-seven   divisions  of  that 
 
 state  of  mind   which  follows  on   conversion,  the  thirty-seven   divisions  of 
 what  the   Buddhists  call  Arahatship,  literally  the  state  of  being  worthy, 
 which  is  their  own  favourite  name  for  the  condition   of  those  who  have 
 reached   salvation.     I   have  not  time  to  go  at  length   into  the  different 
 explanations  of  these  thirty-seven  terms,  though  it  is  precisely  in  discussions 
 about  them  that  the  Buddhist  scriptures  are  chiefly  concerned.      Beginning 
 with  the  lower  morality,  with  simple  things  which  any  one  can  understand, 
 the  discussions  rise  up  into  the  highest  of  thoughts,  higher  morality  ;  and  it 
 is  a  frequent  expression,  "  Thus  so-and-so  finished  his  discourse,  guiding 
 it  up  to  the  topmost  peak  of  Arahatship."     The  various  sects  which   have 
 arisen  among  the   Buddhists  are  sei^arated  from  one  another  mostly  by 
 slight  differences  in   the  interpretation  or  application  of  one  or  other  of 
 these  thirty-seven  points.     The  thirty-seven  are  as  follows  : — 
 Firstly,  the  four  earnest  meditations,  which  are  :  — 
 {a)  Meditation  of  the  body. 
 {b)  Meditation  of  the  senses. 
 {c)  Meditation  of  the  ideas. 
 {d)  Meditation  on  reason. 
 Secondly,  the  fourfold  great  struggle,  which  is  divided  into — 
 (rt;)  The  struggle  to  prevent  error  arising. 
 
 {b)  The  struggle  to  put  away  erroneous  ideas  which  have  arisen. 
 {c)  The  struggle  to  produce  goodness   which  had  not  previously 
 existed. 
 
 {d)  The  struggle  to  increase  goodness  when  it  does  exist. 
 The  next  division  is  the  fourfold  path  to  Iddhi,  which  is  divided  into— 
 (a)  The  will  to  acquire  Iddhi  united  to  earnest  meditation  and  the 
 struggle  against  evil  dispositions. 
 
 (/')  The   necessary  exertion  to  acquire  it  united  to  earnest  medita- 
 tion and  the  struggle  against  evil  dispositions. 
 
 {c)  The  necessary  preparation  of  the  heart,  united  to  earnest  medi- 
 tation and  the  struggle  against  evil  dispositions. 
 
 {d)  Investigation,  united  to  earnest  meditation  and  the  struggle 
 against  evil  dispositions. 
 I  would  say,  in  passing  on,  in  this  division  of  the  Arahat's  life  we 
 have  the  germs  and  the  real  explanation  of  that  kind  of  inquiry  -which  is 
 now-a-days  known  as  a  part  of  Theosophy.  I  mean  the  inquiry  into 
 peculiar  states  of  nervous  feeling  and  psychical  experience.  The  way  in 
 which  the  old  Buddhist  who  had  got  beyond  delusions  tried  to  ascertain 
 the  real  meaning  of  these  obscure  phenomena  was  very  different  from  that 
 which  is  now  followed,  and  we  do  not   find  that  it  ever  occupied  in  their 
 
148  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 minds  the  paramount  position  which  it  frequently  does  in  modern  times 
 here  in  the  West.  Such  inquiries  formed  only  one  of  the  many  divisions 
 of  the  higher  life,  and  to  pursue  them  alone  without  pursuing  the  others 
 would  have  been  considered  as  of  no  avail. 
 
 The  fourth  division  and  the   fifth  are  each  divided  into  five  classes. 
 These  are  : — 
 
 ( i)  The  exercise  and  the  enjoyment  of  faith. 
 
 (2)  The  exercise  and  the  enjoyment  of  energy. 
 
 (3)  The  exercise  and  the  enjoyment  of  thought. 
 
 (4)  The  exercise  and  the  enjoyment  of  contemplation. 
 
 (5)  The  exercise  and  the  enjoyment  of  wisdom. 
 
 The  sixth  division  are  the  seven  kinds  of  wisdom  which  the  Arahat  had 
 to  master,  and  these  are — 
 Zeal. 
 
 Intelligence. 
 Meditation. 
 Investigation. 
 
 Joy- 
 Repose. 
 
 Serenity. 
 And  then,  lastly,  it  is  very  instructive  to  notice  that  the  Arahat  who  has 
 reached,  and  is  living  in.  Nirvana  or  Arahatship,  is  still  to  carry  out  the 
 Noble,  Eightfold  Path,  of  which  I  have  given  you  already  the  various  de- 
 tails. It  is  impossible  for  any  one  to  remain  upon  the  heights  who  neglects 
 the  steps  by  which  he  has  risen.  The  books  are  full  of  ecstatic  descriptions 
 of  the  peace  and  serenity,  the  glory  and  the  greatness  of  the  life  of  intel- 
 lectual and  moral  perfection  which  the  Arahat  leads.  These  descriptions 
 are  naturally  full  of  technical  terms  of  Buddhist  ethics,  but  there  are 
 occasionally  found  some  passages  which  would  be  intelligible  to  a  Western 
 audience.     With  your  permission,  I  will  read  you  one: — 
 
 "  Just,  O  King,  as  a  lotus  flower  of  glorious,  pure,  and  high  descent 
 and  origin  is  glossy,  soft,  desirable,  sweet-smelling,  longed-for,  loved,  and 
 praised,  untarnished  by  the  water  or  the  mud,  crossed  with  tiny  petals  and 
 filaments  and  pericarps,  the  resort  of  many  bees,  a  child  of  the  clear  cold 
 stream,  just  so  is  that  disciple  of  the  Noble  Ones,  .  .  .  endowed 
 with  the  thirty  graces.      .^nd  what  are  the  thirty  ? 
 
 1.  "  His  heart  is  full  of  affectionate,  soft  and  tender  love. 
 
 2.  "  Evil  is  killed,  destroyed,  cast  out  from  within  him. 
 
 3,  4.   "  Pride  and  self-righteousness  are  put  an  end  to  and  cast  down. 
 
 5.  "  Stable,  and  strong,  and  established,  and  undying  is  his  faith. 
 
 6.  "  He  enters  into  the  enjoyment  of  the  heart's  refreshment,  of  the 
 
 highly  praised   and  desirable  peace  and  bliss  of  the  ecstasies 
 of  contemplation  fully  felt. 
 
 7.  "  He  exhales  the  most  excellent  and  unequalled  scented  savour  of 
 
 righteousness  of  life. 
 
BUDDHISM.  149 
 
 8.  "  Near  is  he  and  dear  to  gods  and  men  alike. 
 
 9.  "  Exalted  by  the  best  of  beings,  the  Arahat  Noble  Ones  themselves. 
 
 10.  "  Gods  and  men  delight  to  honour  him. 
 
 11.  "The  enlightened,  wise,  and  learned  approve,  esteem,  appreciate, 
 
 and  praise  him. 
 
 12.  13.   "  Untarnished  is  he  by  the  love  either  of  this  world  or  the  next. 
 
 14.  "  He  sees  the  danger  in  the  smallest  offence. 
 
 15.  "  Rich  is  he  in  the  best  of  wealth,  the  wealth  that  is  the  fruit  of  the 
 
 Path,  the  wealth  of  those  who  are  ever  seeking  the  highest  of  the 
 attainments. 
 
 16.  "  He  is  a  partaker  of  the  best  of  the  four  requisites  of  a  recluse  that 
 
 may  be  obtained  by  asking. 
 
 17.  "  He  hves  without  a  home,  addicted  to  that  best  austerity  which  is 
 
 dependent  on  the  meditation  of  the  Jhanas. 
 
 18.  "  He  has  unravelled  the  whole  net  of  evil. 
 
 19.  20.   "  He    has  broken  and  burst  through,  doubled  up,   and  utterly 
 
 destroyed  both  the  possibility  of  rebirth  in  any  of  the  five  future 
 states  and  the  five  obstacles  to  the  higher  life  in  this  one  (Lust, 
 Malice,  Sloth,  Pride,  and  Doubt). 
 21-23.   "Unalterable  in  character,  excellent  in  conduct,  he  transgresses 
 none  of  the  rules  as  to  the  four  requisites  of  a  recluse. 
 
 24.  "  He  is  set  free  from  rebirths. 
 
 25.  "  He  has  passed  beyond  all  perplexity. 
 
 26.  "  His  mind  is  set  upon  complete  emancipation. 
 
 27.  "  He  has  seeii  the  Truth  the  sure  and  steadfast  place  of  refuge  from 
 
 all  fear  has  he  gained. 
 
 28.  "The  seven  evil  inclinations— to  lust,  and  malice,  and  heresy,  and 
 
 doubt,  and  pride,  and  desire  for  future  life,  and  ignorance — are 
 rooted  out  in  him. 
 
 29.  "  He  abounds  in  the  bliss  and  the  ecstasies  of  contemplation. 
 
 30.  "  He  is  endowed  with  all  the  virtues  a  recluse  should  have. 
 
 "These,  O  King,  are  the  thirty  graces  he  is  adorned  withal." 
 
 Of  course  it  was  not  supposed  that  any  man  could  spring  into  a  con- 
 dition of  heart  such  as  this  without  constant  self-training  and  self-effort. 
 It  would  be  impossible  to  give  you  at  any  length  the  details  of  the  method 
 which  was  followed,  but  1  can  give  you  a  specimen. 
 
 The  Arahat,  in  order  to  acquire  the  first  of  the  graces  just  mentioned, 
 — that  is,  to  have  a  heart  full  of  affectionate,  soft,  and  tender  love  towards 
 all  beings  that  have  life, — will  deliberately  sit  down  and  call  to  mind  first, 
 all  those  beings  who  are  close  to  the  spot  where  he  is  sitting,  and  will 
 suftuse  them  as  it  were  with  a  feeling  of  his  love.  This  may  take  some 
 time,  for  he  has  especially  to  call  to  mind  any  one  with  whom  he  may 
 have  had  any  difference  or  disagreement.  But  when  he  has,  to  his  own 
 satisfaction,  practised  love  towards  those  in  the  locality  where  he  is,  he 
 
ISO  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 then,   continuing  still  to  keep  up  that  feeling,  extends  it  in  wider  and  ever 
 wider  circles.     As  the  Maha-Sudassana  says  : — 
 
 "  He  let  his  mind  pervade  one-quarter  of  the  world  with  thoughts  of 
 Love,  and  so  the  second  quarter,  and  so  the  third,  and  so  the  fourth  ;  and 
 thus  the  whole  wide  world  above,  below,  around,  and  everywhere  did  he 
 continue  to  pervade  with  heart  of  Love,  far-reaching,  grown  great,  beyond 
 measure,  free  from  the  least  trace  of  anger  or  ill-will." 
 
 There  were  similar  established  methods  by  which  all  the  various  graces 
 of  Arahatship  could  be  obtained,  and  to  have  obtained  them  was  the  only 
 salvation  which  the  ideal  Buddhist  cared  to  seek.  Of  course  many 
 here  in  the  West,  caught  in  the  machinery  of  those  conii)lex  conditions 
 which  we  are  pleased  to  call  civilization,  occupied  all  their  days  in 
 the  moil  and  toil  of  life,  devoted  more  or  less  to  the  worship  of  Mammon, 
 of  titles,  and  of  force,  swallowed  up  in  the  unworthy  social  struggles,  the 
 eager  craving  restlessness  of  our  present  conditions  of  existence,  will 
 tliink  such  efforts  as  these,  such  a  method  as  this,  impracticable,  im- 
 possible,— even,  perhaps,  undesirable.  But  the  present  conditions  of 
 society  in  the  West  are  not  going  to  endure  for  ever.  They,  too,  like  every- 
 thing else,  are,  as  the  Buddhists  would  say,  a  "Confection"  ;  they  are  never 
 the  same  for  two  consecutive  weeks  ;  they  are  changing  and  passing  away, 
 like  everything  else,  before  our  very  eyes.  Let  us  hope  that  there  will 
 come  a  time  when  even  the  Englishman  will  be  able  to  find  tinie  to  devote 
 himself  to  the  "  ecstasies  of  contemplation  fully  felt,"— will  be  able  to  turn 
 aside  from  the  slavery  of  money-getting  to  that  higher  life  which  all  the 
 deepest  thinkers  of  the  world  have  estimated  as  a  higher  gain  than  any  of 
 the  things  for  which  we  struggle  now.  It  is  not  probable  that  precisely 
 the  Buddhist  solution  of  that  higher  life  will  ever  be  in  its  entirety 
 adopted.  But  it  must  at  least  be  admitted,  not  only  that  the  ideal  was  a 
 noble  one,  but  that  it  was  nobly  carried  out.  It  is  certainly  most  inter- 
 esting and  instructive,  that  that  scheme  for  a  perfect  life  which  has  influ- 
 enced more  people  than  have  ever  been  reached  by  Christianity,  should 
 have  been  founded  upon  the  doctrine  of  Impermanence,  and  be  altogether 
 independent  of  the  time-honoured  belief  in  an  everlasting  and  an  un- 
 changing existence,  accompanied  with  a  consciousness  of  identity,  for 
 each  individual  soul.  To  many  of  us  here  in  the  West  such  a  belief 
 seems  devoid  of  hope.  But  is  it  really  so  ?  Must  we  have  a  belief  in  some 
 personal  happiness  that  we  ourselves  are  to  enjoy  hereafter?  The  Bud- 
 dhist  would  say  that  the  hope  is  a  delusion,  born  of  delusion,  and  a 
 fatal  impediment  to  any  real  advance  in  ethics.  Is  it  not  enough  to  hope 
 that  our  self-denials  and  our  struggles  will  add  to  the  happiness  of  others  ? 
 Surely  we  have  even  so  a  gain  far  beyond  our  deserts,  for  we  receive  more, 
 infinitely  more,  than  we  can  ever  give.  We  inherit  the  result  of  the 
 Karma  of  the  countless  multitudes  who  have  lived  and  died,  who  have 
 struggled  and  suffered,  struggled  and  suffered  for  us,  in  the  long  ages  of  the 
 past.     And  if  we  can  sometimes  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  glories  that  cer- 
 
BUDDHISM.  151 
 
 tainly  lie  hid  behind  the  veil  of  the  future,  is  it  not  better  to  let  our  hearts 
 bathe  themselves  in  the  bliss  of  a  gratitude  that  is  real,  because  it  rests 
 upon  facts,  and  then  revel  in  the  hope,  stronger,  deeper,  purer  than  any 
 selfishness  can  give,  that  our  sufferings  and  struggles  in  their  turn  will  do 
 some  little  towards  ennobling  and  beautifying  the  lives  of  those  who  are  to 
 follow  after  us. 
 
BUDDHA   AND    BUDDHISM. 
 
 By  Mrs.  Frederika  Macdonald. 
 
 No  sight  in  India  is  more  familiar,  at  the  entrance  of  a  native  bazaar, 
 or  out  amongst  rice  and  maize  fields,  or  by  the  dusty  wayside,  than  the 
 spreading  Peepul,  or  Banyan  tree,  that  marks  the  place  of  a  temple  or 
 shrine.  What  the  building  beneath  the  tree  may  be,  it  is  not  easy  to  say 
 from  a  distance.  It  may  be  the  tomb  of  a  Mussulman  saint ;  or  a  Hindil 
 temple  worthy  of  the  name  ;  or  merely  some  canopy  of  stone  above  a 
 rough  symbol  of  Siva  or  Ganesha.  The  sacred  tree  affords  a  shelter  to 
 any  one  of  these  structures,  and  sometimes  even  imperils  their  existence 
 by  a  too  puissant  protection.  For  you  have  the  strong  boughs  forcing 
 their  way  through  the  temple  roof,  or  sweeping  down,  laden  with  trailing 
 creepers  to  conceal,  and  sometimes  to  efface,  delicate  carvings  or  interest- 
 ing ancient  inscriptions. 
 
 Now  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  accept  this  sacred  tree  as  an  appropriate 
 symbol  of  the  overshadowing  imagination  of  ancient  India,  deep-rooted 
 in  Pantheism,  and  flowering  out  into  luxurious  leafage  and  blossom  of 
 myth  and  legend.  A  shadow  we  must  expect  to  find  upon  Buddhism  as 
 upon  all  the  religions  born  beneath,  or  brought  within  reach  of,  its 
 influence. 
 
 It  is  very  necessary  to  keep   this  fact  in   remembrance.     Buddhism  is 
 
 especially  interesting  amongst  Indian  religions,  and  indeed  amongst  the 
 
 religions  of  the  world,  because  it  is  the  one  great  religion  that  dispenses 
 
 with  supernatural  proofs  and  superhuman  authority ;  and    that    appeals 
 
 directly  to  Man  himself,   bidding  him  be  his  own   reformer,   ruler,   and 
 
 refuge.     But  whilst  these  are  the  essential  and  peculiar  characteristics  of 
 
 Buddhism,  they  are  not  the  characteristics  that  will  first  strike  a  Western 
 
 student   who   commences    his    study   of    Indian    religious   thought     with 
 
 Buddhism.     Unfortunately,  this  is  a  method  too  often  followed.      People, 
 
 without  any  knowledge  of  Oriental  philosophy  or  religious  thought,  happen 
 
 to  be   attracted    by   some   beautiful   or    touching   legend  about  Gotama 
 
 Buddha  ;  or  by  some  impressive  text  they  hear  quoted  from  the  Buddhist 
 
 scriptures ;  or,  perhaps,  these  uninitiated  inquirers  are  started  upon  the 
 
 study  of  an  unfamiliar  subject  by  some  curious  resemblances  they  discover 
 
 between  the  personal  characters  and  histories  of  Buddha  and  Christ,  or 
 
 between  the    organization  of  early  Buddhism   and  mediceval  Christianity. 
 
 And,  forthwith,  we  have  these  new  enthusiasts  plunging  into  the  study  of 
 
 the  subject,  and  imagining  that  they  can  read  up  Buddhism  in  a  week,  or 
 
 even  in  a  day  or  so ;  and  remaining  all  the  time  completely  ignorant  of 
 
 15a 
 
BUDDHA   AND  BUDDHISM.  153 
 
 the  fact  that,  in  attempting  to  do  this,  they  are  beginning  to   read  a  long 
 history  at  the  closing  chapters. 
 
 Now  a  great  many  mistakes,  and  some  disappointments,  are  the  results 
 of  this  method  of  reading  backwards  ;  or,  rather,  I  should  say,  of  read- 
 ing one  isolated  page  torn  out  of  a  mighty   volume.     Readers    of   this 
 sort  cannot  distinguish  what  is  original  and  important  in  this  special  page 
 from  what  are  mere  repetitions  of,  or  improvements  upon,  old  doctrines 
 set  forth  in  the  earlier  chapters.     And  what  are  the  very  first  discoveries 
 made  by  these  adventurous  students  who  run  and  read  ?     Why,  grotesque 
 fables,  monstrous,  and  sometimes  puerile,  tales  concerning  all  manner  of 
 mythological  personages,  and  fantastic  legends,  where  the  wild  imagination 
 of  the  East  plays  lawlessly  amidst  fine  poetic  dreams  and  mere  barbarous 
 absurdities  !     1   do  not  at  all   wonder  that  such  readers  are  tempted  to 
 decide    off-hand   that    there    must    be  either    wilful    disingenuousness  or 
 stupid    obstinacy    in   critics    who  describe    Buddhism   as  an  intellectual 
 system    independent   of    supernaturalism.     What,    for   instance,  will    the 
 practical  Western,  who  has  started  on   this  new  voyage  of  discovery  with- 
 out any  previous  knowledge  of  the  country  he  is  about  to  explore,  think 
 of  the  future  Founder  of  a  pure  religion  of  the  intellect,   who,  to  start 
 with,  enters   his  mother's   side  as    a  fine  young  white  elephant  with  an 
 abnormal   number  of  tusks  ?     Or,  how  will   he  reconcile  the  miraculous 
 conceit  of  the  infant  Bodhisatva,  asserting  his  claims,  in  the  very  hour 
 of  his  birth,  to  be  honoured  as   Lord  of  the   Universe,  with  the  humble 
 and  laborious  patience  of  the  Buddha^who  proclaims  himself  "  only  a 
 Teacher "  ;  and  who,  having  gained  enlightenment  himself,  by  no  other 
 means  than  those  he  urges  other  men  to  follow,  declares  that  spiritual 
 emancipation   is   no    divine  gift   of    grace,    but   the  conquest   of    man's 
 intellect   and  will,  rightly   ruled    and    directed    by  himself?     It    is    true 
 that  some  more  enthusiastic   than  judicious  admirers  of  Buddhism  have 
 their  own  way  of  e.xplaining  away  these  apparent  contradictions.     A  deep 
 mystical  meaning,  they   assure   us,   lies  hidden   beneath  these  grotesque 
 fables.     But  then  they  have  still  to  reconcile  this  statement  of  theirs  with 
 the  Budtlha's  own  declaration  that  he  had  no  esoteric  doctrine,  and  that 
 "  his  hand  was  not  the  closed  fist  of  the   teacher  who  keeps  some  things 
 back."     Again  we    have  the    explanation    that   recommends  itself  to  the 
 orthodox  mind  :  the  declaration   that  these  childish  and  foolish  supersti- 
 tions, scattered  amongst  the  noble  truths  of  Buddhism,   prove  to  what 
 freaks  and  follies  the  wisest  human  minds  are  driven,  when  they  presume 
 to  solve  the  problems  of  life,  unaided  by  revelation. 
 
 Well,  but  1  do  not  think,  that  either  of  these  explanations  will  be 
 deemed  necessary  by  students  who  approach  the  study  of  Buddhism  from 
 a  right  direction.  The  Orientalist  who  has  traced  the  growth  of  noble 
 thougiits,  and  the  transformation  of  rude  and  barbarous  traditions,  can 
 easily  establish  the  true  relationship  the  spiritual  doctrine  of  Buddha  has 
 to  the  myths  and  legends  that  form  a  natural  and  necessary  part  of  its 
 
154  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 environment.  As  for  white  elephants  with  five  tusks,  and  miraculously 
 precocious  infants,  who  speak  as  soon  as  they  are  born,  and  sometimes 
 even  earlier,  he  knows  perfectly  well  what  to  make  of  these ;  he  has  met 
 them  scores  of  times  before  in  the  course  of  his  wanderings  through  the 
 "  immense  flowering  forests  "  of  old  Indian  poetry,  the  haunted  region 
 where  he  knows  full  well  all  Indian  philosophy  and  religious  thought  were 
 born.  Therefore,  his  attention  is  not  drawn  aside  when  he  meets  with 
 these  familiar  figures  upon  the  threshold  of  Buddhism.  He  knows  that 
 he  was  in  a  certain  sense  bound  to  find  them  there.  They  are  the  con- 
 ventional ornaments  that  adorn  the  portico  of  this  Indian  temple,  as  of 
 other  Indian  temples.  Outside  adornments,  that  reveal  the  locality  where 
 the  temple  is  reared,  but  that  do  not  in  any  way  express  the  spirit  of  the 
 worship  that  is  being  carried  on  inside.  Or  let  me  return  to  my  first 
 simile  :  The  initiated  traveller  recognises  once  again  the  shadow  of  the 
 Indian  sacred  tree  ;  and  knowing  where  he  stands,  he  is  able  to  see  the 
 clear  and  shining  mind  of  Buddha  as  a  pool  of  pure  deep  water,  that  he 
 can  test  and  taste,  and  prove  to  have  taken  no  taint  or  colour  from  the 
 fantastic  reflections  cast  upon  its  surface. 
 
 It  is  thus  necessary  that  we  should  know  something  of  the  conditions  of 
 thought  and  feeling  amidst  which  Buddism  arose,  because  without  this 
 knowledge  we  cannot  properly  distinguish  between  the  spiritual  doctrine 
 and  the  alloy  of  old  superstitions  necessarily  bound  up  with  it.  But  this 
 is  not  all.  We  cannot  properly  understand  even  the  spiritual  doctrine, 
 unless  we  know  something  of  the  earlier  religions  in  which  Buddhism  has 
 its  roots. 
 
 For  it  is  true  of  Buddha,  as  it  is  true  of  Christ,  that  he  did  not  come  to 
 destroy  the  earlier  Law  and  the  Prophets,  but  to  fulfil  them — in  other 
 words,  Buddha,  like  Christ,  was  a  spiritual  liberator,  who  did  not  reject 
 the  doctrines  he  found  in  existence,  but  who  laboured  to  spiritualize  and 
 perfect  them,  and  to  make  men  enslaved  by  formal  dogmas  free  in  their 
 obedience  to  convictions  made  vital  and  inspiring.  But  we  must  not 
 fall  into  the  error  of  supposing  that  the  "  Law"  spiritualized  by  Buddha 
 was  the  same  as  the  "  Law"  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  made  more  tender 
 and  humane  by  Christ.  There  are  certain  resemblances  between  Bud- 
 dhism and  Christianity  that  strike  people  at  once.  But  a  little  reflection 
 will  show  that  these  resemblances  are  only  the  necessary  ones  that  must 
 exist  between  two  spiritual  systems ;  that  both  have  it  for  their  purpose  to 
 lead  men  to  a  higher  life  than  that  of  the  lower  passions  and  appetites. 
 Apart  from  these  common  qualities,  that  belong  to  all  the  great  world- 
 religions,  Buddhism  and  Christianity  have  no  relationship  to  each  other. 
 So  far  from  being  one  and  the  same,  in  method  and  goal,  they  are  not 
 even  kindred  religions.  They  are  different  religions,  and  from  this 
 cause — they  spring  from  dijfercnt  sources.  Christianity  has  its  roots  in 
 Semitic  monotheism  ;  and  the  doctrines  it  inherits  from  Judaism  nv^ke  it 
 necessarily   a    sui)ernatural    religion — because    these   doctrines   put    the 
 
BUDDJIA    AND  BUDDHISM.  155 
 
 cause,  the  direction,  and  the  goal  of  the  Higher  Life  outside  of  the  sphere 
 where  the  mind  and  will  of  man  have  power.  Buddhism  has  its  roots 
 in  Aryan  pantheism  ;  and  the  fundamental  doctrines  it  inherits  from  Brah- 
 manism  leave  it  independent  of  supernaturalism,  because  these  doctrines 
 make  the  cause,  the  direction,  and  the  goal  of  the  Higher  Life  belong  to 
 the  spirit  that  animates  and  moves  the  soul  in  man. 
 
 I  am  insisting  upon  this  so  much  because  here,  too,  we  are  face  to 
 face  with  an  amiable  blunder  that  has  done  a  great  deal  to  produce  mis- 
 apprehensions and  tlisappointment ;  because  it  has  set  people  looking  for 
 something  in  Buddhism  they  cannot  find  there,  and  has  turned  their  eyes 
 away  from  the  spiritual  possessions  that  actually  belong  to  this  religion — 
 possessions  that  belong,  as  I  have  said,  to  no  other  religion  in  the  world. 
 The  blunder  of  which  I  am  speaking  is,  of  course,  the  supposition  that  in 
 Buddha  we  have  an  Indian  Clirist,  whose  history  and  whose  mission  may 
 be  traced  along  lines  parallel  to  those  of  the  Founder  of  Christianity. 
 Now,  no  more  unsatisfactory  and  unsatisfying  view  can  possibly  be  taken 
 of  the  teaching  of  Buddha  than  the  one  derived  by  studying  this  Religion 
 from  the  above  standpoint.  Jf  you  go  to  Buddhism  hoping  to  find  in  it 
 what  the  sincere  Christian  finds  in  Christianity,  you  luill,  and  must,  be  dis- 
 appointed. As  a  counterpart  of  Christianity,  Buddiiism  is  distinctly  un- 
 satisfactory. It  does  not  give  you  any  authoritative  account  of  the  creation 
 of  the  world,  nor  of  the  means  by  which  sin  and  death  first  came  to  spoil 
 the  perfect  order  of  things  ;  it  does  not  promise  you,  in  return  for  your 
 prayers,  exemption  from  jiain  and  evil,  nor  any  support,  nor  favourable 
 interference  on  your  behalf  on  the  part  of  the  Divine  Powers.  Buddha 
 does  not  proclaim  himself  a  Saviour  willing  and  able  to  take  upon  his 
 slioulders  the  sins  of  tiie  whole  world.  On  the  contrary,  he  declares 
 that  each  man  must  bear  the  burden  of  his  own  sins  ;  in  other  words, 
 that  there  is  no  remission  of  sins,  but  only  expiation.  So  far  from 
 promising  to  save  his  disciples  by  his  merits  from  the  effects  of  their  mis- 
 deeds, he  declares  that  no  god,  even,  can  do  for  any  man  that  work  of 
 self-concjuest  and  self-emanripation  that,  in  the  religion  of  Buddha,  stands 
 for  "salvation."  '' By  oneself  the  evil  is  done,''  says  Buddha;  "■  by  oneself 
 one  suffers.  By  oneself  cx'il  is  left  undone;  by  oneself  one  is  purified. 
 Purity  and  impurity  belong  to  oneself ;  no  one  can  purify  another.'' — 
 Dhammapada,  163. 
 
 So  that  those  who  expect  to  find  in  Buddha  more  than  a  guide  to  the 
 right  path  that  they  must  tread  themselves,  will  be  disappointed.  Again, 
 the  goal  and  reward  of  the  Higher  Life  in  Buddhism  is  not  in  any  external 
 state,  but  in  the  attainment  of  a  tranquil  and  perfect  mind.  Thus, 
 students  who  persist  in  regarding  Nirvana  as  a  sort  of  Buddhist  Heaven, 
 are  necessarily  disappointed.  Here  is  no  new  Jerusalem,  no  Holy  City 
 with  "  gates  of  pearl,"  and  streets  of  "  pure  gold  as  it  were  transparent 
 glass."  No  wonder  the  good  Bishop  Bigandet,  after  seeking  in  vain  for 
 some  such  lovely  pictures  of  the   Buddhist   Paradise,  concludes  his  very 
 
156  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 favourable  report  upon  the  moral  aspects  of  this  religion,  with  the  declara- 
 tion that  "  by  an  inexplicable  and  a  deplorable  eccentricity  this  system 
 merely  promises  men  as  a  reward  for  their  moral  efforts  the  bottomless 
 gulf  of  annihilation." 
 
 But  if  you  will  not  find  in  Buddhism  the  promise  of  miraculous  consola- 
 tions that  only  a  supernatural  religion  can  venture  to  hold  out,  you  ^oill 
 find  the  encouraging  and  ennobling  faith  that  man  has,  within  himself,  a 
 strength  and  virtue  that  can  render  him  independent  of  all  such  consola- 
 tions. Buddhism,  as  I  have  said,  stands  out  as  the  one  religion  that  bids 
 man  trust  himself^  that  calls  upon  him  to  raise  himself  by  his  own  strength  ; 
 to  govern  and  control  and  form  himself;  that  assures  him  not  only  that 
 there  is  no  strength  outside  of  himself  to  help  him,  but  also  none  that  can 
 prevail  against  him,  if  he  conquer  and  hold  the  sovereignty  over  himself. 
 "  Not  even  a  god  can  change  into  defeat  the  victory  of  a  man  ivho  has  van- 
 quished himself" — Dhammapada,  105. 
 
 Buddhism  is  the  one  religion  that  has  preached  this.  Philosophy,  of 
 course,  has  taught  the  same  lesson  ;  but  then  philosophy  is  not  religion. 
 Philosophy  at  best  brings  resignation,  teaching  men  to  endure  the  evils  of 
 life.  But  religion  does  more  than  this.  Religion  brings  spiritual  enthu- 
 siasm and  joy,  carrying  men  through  these  material  pains  and  evils,  and 
 leaving  them  their  conquerors.  And  Buddhism  does  this :  it  has  the 
 animating  enthusiasm  and  fervour  that  belong  to  a  Religion,  although  the 
 system  it  kindles  (or,  as  Matthew  Arnold  would  have  said,  "lights  up  with 
 emotion  ")  is  a  system  founded  upon  self-reliance,  having  its  method  in 
 self-conquest  and  self-culture,  and  its  goal  in  self-deliverance,  and  a  refuge 
 for  man  from  the  attacks  of  his  own  lower  passions  and  from  the  evils  of 
 the  world,  in  the  "  safe  asylum  "  of  an  intellectual  and  spiritual  life. 
 
 But  you  may  ask,  "  Is  this  Religion  of  pure  intelligence  actually 
 Buddhism  as  taught  by  Buddha  seven  hundred  years  before  Christ  ? " 
 Until  recently,  travellers  and  commentators  were  wont  to  speak  of  Bud- 
 dhism as  the  most  mysterious  and  inexplicable  religion  in  the  world.  And 
 now,  when  it  is  shown  us  as  this  simple  and  luminous  system,  that  bears  so 
 strange  a  resemblance  to  the  most  enlightened  idealism  of  our  own  day, 
 can  we  feel  sure  that  no  modern  gloss  has  been  put  upon  this  ancient 
 faith,  and  no  spiritual  meaning  imparted  to  it,  that  its  first  founders  never 
 thought  or  dreamed  of?  We  have  these  suspicions  expressed  plainly 
 enough  by  some  critics,  who  have  not  hesitated  to  accuse  the  accomplished 
 Orientalist  to  whom  modern  students  of  Buddhism  are  most  indebted — I 
 mean,  of  course,  Dr.  Rhys  Davids— of  holding  the  insane  belief  that 
 "  Gotama  Buddha  was  the  Positivist  Auguste  Comte,  born  two  thousand 
 years  too  soon  !  " 
 
 Now  the  best  answer  to  these  wild  assertions  is  to  state  plainly  what  it 
 is  that  Dr.  Rhys  Davids— in  conjunction,  of  course,  with  Professor  Max 
 MuUer,  Dr.  Buhler,  Dr.  FausboU,  and  other  eminent  scholars— what  it  is 
 that  these  men  have  done  to  revolutionize  the  whole  study  of  Buddhism. 
 
BUDDHA   AND  BUDDHISM.  157 
 
 We  should  recognise  that  they  have  not  put  forward  any  new  arbitrary 
 personal  opinions  of  their  own,  opposed  to  the  views  of  earlier  scholars. 
 What  they  have  done  is  to  put  the  Western  reader,  who  is  ignorant  of 
 Eastern  languages,  in  a  position  to  judge  for  himself  what  Buddhism 
 actually  was.  The  magnificent  series  of  translations  from  the  most  ancient 
 Buddhist  scriptures,  that  we  owe  to  the  patient  and  disinterested  labours 
 of  Dr.  Rhys  Davids  especially  give  us  an  opportunity  of  studying  at  first 
 hand,  if  not  the  actual  doctrine  as  taught  by  Buddha  himself,  at  any  rate 
 the  doctrine  that  early  Indian  Buddhists  believed  that  he  taught  at  the 
 period  when  they  first  compiled  and  wrote  down  the  reported  sayings  and 
 doings  of  their  revered  Master. 
 
 The  Fitakas,  or  Baskets  of  the  Law,  are  to  Buddhism  very  much  what 
 the  Gospels  are  to  Christianity.  Because  modern  commentators  point 
 out  discrepancies  in  the  Gospels,  and  declare  that  on  matters  of  doctrine, 
 and  even  upon  questions  of  facts,  there  are  differences  between  the  four 
 narratives  that  make  it  diflicult  to  suppose  they  were  written  by  the 
 apostles  whose  names  they  bear — because  of  all  this,  the  fact  is  not 
 changed  that  we  have  in  the  Gospels  the  oldest  and  most  authoritative 
 record  of  the  life  and  teachings  of  Christ.  In  the  same  way,  there  is  great 
 improbability  that  the  Buddhist  Pitakas,  as  we  now  have  them,  were  com- 
 piled by  men  who  had  been  hearers  and  eye-witnesses  of  all  they  record  ; 
 and  yet  it  is  in  these  Pitakas  that  we  have  the  earliest  and  most  authorita- 
 tive account  of  Buddha's  teaching  now  in  existence  :  and  we  are  therefore 
 bound  to  accept  the  evidence  of  these  ancient  Scriptures  as  giving  us  the 
 nearest  approach  now  possible  to  a  just  and  adequate  knowledge  of  Bud- 
 dhism as  taught  by  Buddha. 
 
 And  it  is  in  these  ancient  Scriptures  especially  that  we  have  this  pure 
 intellectual  faith  shining  out  distinct  and  clear,  like  some  brilliant  gem  in 
 a  quaintly  beautiful  setting  of  fantastic  myths  and  legends.  How  noble, 
 high,  and  tranquil  is  the  mind  of  the  Eastern  sage  that  speaks  through 
 these  old  discourses  !  And,  strangest  of  all,  how  directly  his  voice  speaks 
 to  us  men  and  women  of  the  modern  world  !  We  lose  count  of  the 
 centuries  as  we  read  and  listen  ;  it  is  hard  to  realize  that  these  familiar 
 thoughts,  that  almost  seem  our  own,  were  recited  in  dim  ages  and  remote 
 climes  by  yellow-robed  Bhikshus,  hidden  away  in  caverns  in  the  rocks  or 
 forest  mountains  ;  to  picture  to  ourselves  how  they  were  first  written  down 
 by  patient  scribes  on  palm  leaves  ;  how  savage  kings  rested  from  their  wars 
 and  cruelties  to  collect  these  faded  manuscripts;  how  ignorant  priests 
 treasured  them  as  charms,  when  they  had  lost  the  art  of  deciphering  the 
 learned  characters,  or  of  applying  the  noble  lessons.  And  then,  at  last, 
 how  the  buried  spirit  of  a  vanished  world  was  discovered  and  released  by 
 generous  and  disinterested  Western  scholars  !  We  forget  this  long  winding 
 stream  of  human  lives  down  which  these  noble  thoughts  have  journeyed 
 to  us.  As  Emerson  says,  "They  have  no  antiquity  for  us."  They  seem 
 an  echo  of  our  own  best  thoughts. 
 
158  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 And  now,  before  looking  more  closely  into  these  Baskets  of  the  Law,  let 
 us  see  how  and  by  whom  the  Baskets  were,  in  the  first  instance,  collected 
 and  filled.  Here,  as  I  have  already  told  you,  we  have  to  trust  to  the 
 beautiful  and  touching  old  legends  of  Buddhist  traditions.  According  to 
 these  legends,  a  short  time  after  the  Master's  death,  when,  in  the  language 
 of  the  Tibetan  Diihcd,  the  "  lamp  of  wisdom  had  been  blown  out  by  the 
 wind  of  impermanency,"  there  arose  certain  disputes  amongst  the  brethren 
 concerning  matters  of  doctrine.  To  settle  these  disputes,  the  first  Council 
 was  called  together,  at  Rajagaha,  near  Magadha.  Then,  when  the  whole 
 Order  was  assembled,  Kasyapa  (counted  the  most  learned  amongst 
 Buddha's  disciples)  was  commanded  to  recite  the  metaphysical  or  philo- 
 sophic doctrine,  set  forth  in  the  Abidharma  Pitaka.  Afterwards,  the  oldest 
 disciple,  Upali  by  name,  was  called  upon  to  repeat  the  laws  and  rules  of 
 discipline,  and  the  circumstances  that  led  to  their  establishment  ;  and 
 these  rules  of  discipline  were  henceforth  known  as  the  Vinaya  Pitaka. 
 Then,  lastly,  the  disciple  whom  Buddha  had  most  loved,  Ananda,  the  St. 
 John  of  Buddhism,  was  charged  to  repeat  the  Sutta  Pitaka;  or  the 
 Parables  and  Sermons  he  had  heard  delivered  at  various  times  by  the  Lord. 
 At  first,  these  sacred  texts  do  not  appear  to  have  been  written  down. 
 They  were  committed  to  memory,  and  recited  constantly  by  members  of 
 the  Order ;  and  even  when  the  second  Buddhist  Council  was  held,  a 
 hundred  years  after  the  first  Council,  there  is  no  evidence  to  show  that  any 
 written  Scriptures  were  in  existence.  The  first  proof  that  there  were  such 
 written  Scriptures  is  to  be  found  in  the  edict  of  King  Asoka,  given  B.C. 
 242,  commanding  that  the  Sacred  Books  of  the  Law  of  Buddha  should  be 
 forthwith  collected, 
 
 Now  you  will  easily  understand  that  the  Sutta  Basket,  the  one  contain- 
 ing the  account  of  Buddha's  sermons  and  i)arables,  will  naturally  be  the 
 one  laden  with  things  most  precious.  It  was  of  the  Siiitas  especially  that 
 I  was  thinking  when  I  said  that  the  modern  Western  reader  finds  tliat 
 Buddhism  has  "  no  antiquity  for  him."  In  the  Dhammapada^  Buddha's 
 words  strike  as  directly  home  to  the  heart  of  the  modern  idealist  as  Emer- 
 son's words,  or  Carlyle's,  or  Goethe's,  or  any  words  uttered  by  the  most 
 essentially  "  modern  "  of  our  prophets.  I  hope  that  those  of  you  wlio 
 have  not  read  the  Dlianiinapada,  will  let  me  persuade  you  to  study  the 
 admirable  translation  of  that  noble  book  given  by  Professor  Max  Miiller, 
 in  Volume  X.  of  the  Sacred  Books  of  the  East.  I  do  not  understand  how 
 any  thoughtful  or  intelligent  reader  of  the  Dhammapada,  who,  before 
 starting  upon  the  study  of  this  work,  has  cleared  his  mind  of  preconceived 
 notions  concerning  the  resemblances  between  Buddhism  and  Christianity, 
 can  rise  from  its  perusal  without  feeling  that  he  has  gained  a  perfectly 
 clear  comprehension  of  the  foundations,  the  method,  and  the  goal  of  the 
 Higher  Life  of  Buddhism.  Indeed,  the  Dhatninapada  has  clearly  been 
 compiled  with  the  intention  of  giving  the  weaker  brethren,  who  feel  them- 
 selves inca])able  of  committing  the  whole  contents  of  the  three  I'itakas  to 
 
BUDDHA   AND  BUDDHISM.  159 
 
 memory,  a  summary  of  the  essential  principles  of  Buddha's  doctrine.  The 
 Stiitas  here  brought  together  were  preached  by  Buddha  on  various  occa- 
 sions, and  at  dift'crent  periods  of  his  career;  but  they  all  deal  with  matters 
 concerning  the  elements  of  the  faith,  and  the  training  of  the  disciple  in 
 holy  living  ;  and  are  distinguished  by  the  simplicity  and  directness  of  a 
 religion  whose  concern  is  with  the  moral  nature  and  mind  of  man,  and 
 not  with  theories  that  explain  the  miraculous  creation  of  the  physical 
 universe,  or  predictions  that  foretell  the  conditions  of  a  future  state  that 
 lies  beyond  the  sphere  of  human  experience. 
 
 It  is  impossible  in  a  lecture  of  this  sort  to  attempt  to  give  any  idea  of 
 the  beautiful  and  remarkable  texts  enshrined  in  every  one  of  the  twenty 
 Siittas  that  form  the  Dhanunapada.  Here  are  a  few  verses  taken  almost 
 at  random  : — 
 
 "All  that  we  are  is  the  result  of  what  we  have  thought.  It  is  founded 
 on  our  thoughts  ;  it  is  made  up  of  our  thoughts.  If  a  man  speak  or  act 
 with  an  evil  thought,  pain  follows  him  as  the  wheel  follows  the  foot  of  the 
 ox  that  draws  the  carriage."     (Verse  1.) 
 
 "  Well-makers  lead  the  water  wherever  they  like ;  fletchers  bend  the 
 arrow;  carpenters  shape  the  log  of  wood ;  the  wise  man  fashions  himself." 
 (Verse  195.) 
 
 "  If  one  man  conquer  in  battle  a  thousand  times  ten  thousand  men,  and 
 another  man  conquer  himself,  he  (the  last)  is  the  greatest  conqueror." 
 (Verse  103.) 
 
 "  Self  is  the  Lord  of  Self;  who  else  should  be  the  Lord  ?  With  Self  well 
 subdued,  a  man  finds  a  Lord,  such  as  few  can  find. 
 
 "  Mules  are  good  if  tamed,  and  noble  Sindhu  horses,  and  elephants 
 with  large  tusks  ;  but  he  who  tames  himself  is  better  still.  For  with  those 
 animals  does  no  man  reach  the  untrodden  country  (Nirvana)  where  a 
 tamed  man  goes  on  a  tamed  animal,  namely,  on  his  well-tamed  self." 
 (Verses  322,  323.) 
 
 "  O  Bhikshu,  empty  this  boat !  If  emptied,  it  will  go  quickly  ;  having 
 cut  off  passion  and  hatred,  thou  wilt  go  to  Nirvana."     (Verse  369.) 
 
 "  And  this  is  the  beginning  here  for  a  wise  Bhikshu  :  Watchfulness  over 
 the  senses  ;  restraint  under  the  law;  keep  noble  friends  whose  life  is  pure 
 and  who  are  not  slothful  ;  dwell  constantly  upon  the  highest  thoughts. 
 
 "  Rouse  thyself  by  thyself;  examine  thyself  by  thyself;  thus,  self-pro- 
 tected and  attentive,  wilt  thou  live  happily,  O  Bhikshu  ! 
 
 "  For  Self  is  the  Lord  of  Self.  Self  is  the  refuge  of  Self :  therefore  curb 
 thyself,  as  the  merchant  curbs  a  good  horse."     (Verses  375-80.) 
 
 In  the  Dhanunapada  we  have  what  may  be  called  essentially  the  moral 
 and  religious  principles  of  Buddhism.     For  the  met/wds  of  philosophical 
 
i6o  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 argument,  and  the  intellectual  foundations  upon  which  this  religion  of 
 pure  reason  is  built,  we  must  consult  three  other  very  important  Snttas, 
 that  have  all  been  translated  by  Dr.  Rhys  Davids  ;  and  will  be  found  in 
 Volume  XL  of  the  Sacred  Books  of  the  East.     These  three  Suttas  are  : — 
 
 1.  T\iQ  Stitta  entitled   The  Foundation  of  the  Kifigdom  of  Righteousness  ; 
 
 2.  The  Sutta,  On  the  Kiiowledge  of  the  Vedas  ;  3.  The  Book  of  the  Great 
 Decease. 
 
 The  Sutta  entitled  The  Foufidatiofi  of  the  Kingdofn  of  Righteousness  may 
 be  described  as  the  manifesto  of  the  faith.  It  was  the  first  sermon  preached 
 by  Gotama,  after  his  attainment  of  the  Buddha-hood  ;  and  it  gained  for 
 him  his  first  disciples.  Those  amongst  you  who  have  read  Sir  Edwin 
 Arnold's  Light  of  Asia  will  remember  who  those  first  disciples  were.  They 
 were  those  five  Bhikshus  who  had  attached  themselves  to  Gotama,  in  the 
 days  when  he  sought  enlightenment  by  practising  severe  self-macerations 
 in  the  depths  of  the  savage  forest.  These  were  the  methods  recommended 
 by  the  Brahmans  whom  Prince  Gotama  consulted,  when,  driven  by  a  sense 
 of  the  vanity  and  misery  of  the  earthly  existence,  he  had  abandoned  his 
 father's  palace  and  all  the  affections  and  enjoyments  that  bound  him  to  his 
 home  ;  to  seek,  if  haply  he  might  find  it,  some  remedy  for  the  sickness 
 unto  death  that  he  felt  weighing  upon  himself  and  all  around  him.  The 
 five  Bhikshus  had  also  abandoned  the  worldly  life,  driven  into  the  forest  by 
 much  the  same  soul-sickness  ;  only  the  Bhikshus  did  not  hope  themselves 
 to  attain  enlightenment,  they  were  in  hopes  of  meeting  some  holy  recluse 
 who  would  become  their  "  Guru,"  or  Spiritual  Director.  At  first,  they 
 imagine  they  have  found  the  Holy  Man  they  are  in  search  of,  when  they 
 behold  Gotama's  emaciated  form,  and  witness  day  after  day  the  courage 
 and  devotion  he  displays  in  leading  the  life  of  an  ascetic.  But  the  five 
 Bhikshus  go  away  offended  when,  after  a  time,  Gotama,  finding  that  all  his 
 fastings  and  penitential  exercises  bring  him  no  illumination,  abandons  his 
 solitary  cavern,  and  follows  again  the  practice  of  the  other  religious  mendi- 
 cants, who  daily  visit  the  villages  and  beg  for  food. 
 
 The  disappointed  disciples,  who  have  silently  attended  upon  the  recluse 
 for  six  years,  say  one  to  another  :  "  It  is  vain  that  the  Rahan  Gotama  has 
 during  six  years  of  self-maceration  and  suffering  sought  for  spiritual  en- 
 lightenment ;  he  has  now  joined  the  other  Mendicants  and  goes  forth,  as 
 they  do,  in  search  of  food  !  As  the  man  who  wants  water  to  refresh  his 
 forehead  must  seek  for  the  cool  stream  or  the  pure,  untainted  well,  so  must 
 we  go  elsewhere  in  search  of  the  knowledge  of  the  true  Path  that  we  can 
 never  obtain  from  him."  So  they  take  up  their  staves  and  their  alms-bowls, 
 and  set  off  in  the  direction  of  Benares  ;  and  finding  no  help  anywhere, 
 they  make  themselves  a  hermitage  in  the  Deer  Forest  called  Migadaya. 
 And  it  is  here,  after  he  has  attained  the  Buddha-hood,  that  their  old  Master 
 finds  them.  He  remembers  their  long  and  patient  waiting  for  the  truth  ; 
 he  is  moved  to  compassion  by  the  recollection  of  how  they  went  empty 
 away,  and  therefore  he  starts  forth  in  search  of  them.     As  he  enters  the 
 
BUDDHA    AXD   BUDDHISM.  i6i 
 
 DctT  Forest  ilic  five  Bhikshus  recognise  him,  and  sny  one  to  the  other, 
 "  IJcliold  !  Here  is  tliis  renegade,  this  castaway!"  and  they  resolve  to 
 receive  him  with  rudeness.  But  when  he  stands  before  tliem,  the  beauty 
 (jf  the  Buddha's  countenance,  and  the  sinning  calm  it  wears,  fill  them  with 
 amazement ;  and  as  they  stand  there,  not  knowing  whetlier  to  cover  him 
 with  revilings  or  to  fall  at  his  feet  in  worship,  the  Master  preaches  to  them 
 this  beautiful  sermon.  The  Foundation  of  the  Kini^tioni  of  Righteousness,  and 
 at  its  conclusion  the  five  Bhikshus  with  one  accord  cry  aloud  : — "  In 
 Benares,  at  the  Hermitage  of  the  Migadaya,  the  supreme  wheel  of  the 
 Kmpire  of  Truth  has  been  set  rolling  by  the  Blessed  One  ;  that  wheel 
 which  not  by  any  Sramana  or  Brahmana,'  not  by  ]5rahma  with  Mara,  can 
 ever  be  turned  back." 
 
 What  then  is  this  "  Foundation  "  upon  which  the  Kingdom  of  Righteous- 
 ness rests  ?  Nothing  can  be  simpler,  more  intelligible,  less  "  mystical,"  in 
 the  sense  given  to  the  word  "mystical"  by  certain  muddleheaded  critics, 
 who  are  pleased  to  suppose  that  this  high  and  noble  Religion  of  the  In- 
 tellect was  the  screen  for  some  secret  s) stems  of  complicated  ceremonials, 
 and  of  the  study  and  practice  of  magic — and  that  the  Buddha,  "the  F^n- 
 liglUened  One,"  was  in  reality  a  Prophet  of  Darkness,  i.e.  of  occultism; 
 in  other  words,  a  |>owerful  wizard,  instead  of  a  moral  reformer  and 
 philosopher  !  The  foundations  of  Buddha's  kingdom  are  upon  the  re- 
 cognition of  the  causes  of  suffering  and  evil;  and  then,  upon  the  recogni- 
 tion of  the  means  of  escape  from  these  evils.  In  Buddhist  phraseology,  we 
 must  first  of  all  recognise  the  Four  Noble  Truths  concerning  Suffering  ;  and 
 then  we  must  resolutely  train  ourselves  to  tread,  with  faultless  perseverance, 
 the  Noble  Eightfold  J\ith  that  will  lead  us  into  a  sphere  where  suffering 
 and  evil  cannot  overtake  us.  You  must  remember  that  Buddha  inherited 
 from  Brahmanism  the  doctrine  that  i)ersonal  existence,  the  life  of  the 
 senses  and  emotions,  is  the  sphere  of  "  inipcrmanency,"  the  domain  of 
 Maya-Illusion.  Buddha  declares  that  pain  and  evil  exist  only  in  this 
 spiicre  ;  tiiat  men  are  subject  to  pain  and  evil  because  they  are  under  the 
 dominion  of  sensual  i)assions  and  selfish  desires,  that  bind  them  and  hold 
 them  as  prisoners  to  the  personal  state.  He  declares  that  men  can  break 
 these  bonds,  and  open  the  door  of  their  prison,  if  they  will  resolutely  en- 
 deavour to  resist  selfish  desires  and  passions,  and  to  translate  their  interests 
 and  affections  from  the  troubled  sphere  of  sense  and  emotion  into  the 
 tranquil  sphere  of  mind  and  spirit.  The  method  by  which  this  work  of 
 self-emancipation  is  brought  to  a  successful  end  is  shown  in  the  discourses 
 connected  with  the  Noble  Eightfold  Path.  This  Noble  Eightfold  Path  is, 
 as  Ur.  Rhys  Davids  says,  "  the  very  pith  of  Buddhism."  The  eight  foot- 
 steps in  the  Path  are  as  follows  : — 
 
 1.  Right  views  (free  from  superstition  or  delusion). 
 
 2.  Right  aims  (worthy  of  the  intelligent  man). 
 
 '  That  is  to  say,   not   by  any  miracle-worker  or  dogmatic  priest  ;  nor  by  any  god  or 
 devil. 
 
 VOL.  I.  M 
 
1 62  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 3.  Right  speech  (kindly,  open,  truthful). 
 
 4.  Right  conduct  (peaceful,  honest,  pure). 
 
 5.  Right  livelihood  (bringing  hurt  and  danger  to  no  living  thing). 
 
 6.  Right  effort  (self-control). 
 
 7.  Right  mindfulness  (the  active  watchful  mind). 
 
 8.  Right  contemplation  (on  the  deep  mysteries  of  life). 
 
 Now,  one  has  only  to  read  over  carefully  these  eight  conditions  belonging 
 to  the  path  of  spiritual  progress,  to  dismiss  once  and  for  all  the  accusation 
 sometimes  made  against  Buddhism,  that,  by  placing  the  goal  of  the  Higher 
 Life  in  the  attainment  of  a  perfect  mind,  it  tends  to  make  the  cultivation 
 of  intellectual  gifts  of  more  importance  than  the  acquirement  of  moral 
 virtues.  In  the  Sutias  that  treat  of  this  doctrine  of  the  Noble  Eightfold 
 Path,  it  becomes  especially  clear  that  under  the  method  of  Buddha  the 
 conscience  and  intellect  are  brought  under  one  and  the  same  rule.  Nothing 
 can  be  more  absurd  in  Buddhism  than  to  speak  of  the  higher  wisdom  as 
 though  it  were  something  preferred  above  morality  and  virtue,  since  obe- 
 dience to  the  moral  law  is  one  of  the  conditions  that  must  be  fulfilled 
 before  the  mind  is  in  a  fit  state  to  take  even  the  first  steps  towards  this 
 higher  wisdom.  I'he  religious  life  is  a  life  suitable  to  a  being  who  has 
 become  purely  intelligent ;  but  this  life  cannot  be  entered  upon  by  the 
 undisciplined,  who  have  not  trained  themselves  yet  in  obedience  to  the 
 ordinary  laws  of  morality. 
 
 In  the  D/iainmapada,  and  in  the  Sutta,  The  Foiindatiofi  of  the  Kingdom 
 of  Righteousness,  we  have  the  positive  side  of  Buddha's  doctrine.  In  the 
 Sutta,  On  the  Ktiowledge  of  the  Vedas,  we  have  the  negative  side  ;  and  this 
 Sutta  should  serve  to  show  also  Buddha's  method  of  dealing  with  contem- 
 porary beliefs,  of  rejecting  what  in  them  was  merely  formal  and  supersti- 
 tious, and  of  giving  a  new  spiritual  importance  to  what  in  them  was  true  and 
 helpful.  This  Suita  commences  with  a  very  pretty  picture  of  the  life  of 
 the  India  of  Buddha's  day. 
 
 Two  young  Brahmans,  who  have  just  performed  the  sacred  ablutions 
 that  symbolize  the  purification  of  the  soul,  are  walking  upon  the  borders  of 
 a  forest,  inhabited  by  many  holy  anchorites  and  ascetics.  The  two  young 
 men  are  engaged  in  religious  talk  ;  and  the  subject  that  occupies  them  is  the 
 method  by  which  union  with  "  Brahm  "  can  be  most  surely  attained.  The 
 union  of  the  individual  soul  with  Brahm,  the  divine  Soul  of  the  universe, 
 is  the  aim  and  purpose  of  the  religious  life  in  Brahmanism.  Now  it  happens 
 that  the  two  youths  have  been  under  the  spiriuial  direction  of  different 
 "  Gurus  "  or  teachers  ;  they  have  therefore  different  views  of  the  penitential 
 exercises  and  religious  observances  most  efficacious  in  bringing  aljout  this 
 mystical  "  Union  "  that  both  regard  as  the  Supreme  Good.  As  they  can- 
 not come  to  any  agreement,  they  decide  to  submit  their  quarrel  to  a  Holy 
 Man  who  has  recently  come,  with  a  body  of  his  disciples,  to  sojourn  in  the 
 forest,  a  teacher  of  whose  marvellous  wisdom  and  eloquence  they  boih  have 
 heard.    This  teacher, — who  wanders  about  from  place  to  place  to  "  instruct, 
 
BUDDHA    AXD  BUDDHISM.  163 
 
 arouse,  incite,  and  gladden  men  with  religious  discourse," — is  none  other 
 than  Gotaiiia  liuddha  himself.  'I'he  two  young  men  then  come  to  the 
 Holy  Man  of  whose  name  they  have  heard,  and  the  Lord  Buddha  receives 
 them  kindly.  When  they  have  laid  their  difficulty  before  him,  he  begins, 
 much  after  the  manner  of  Socrates,  to  question  those  who  have  come  to 
 question  him.  So,  then,  these  learned  Brahmans  have  both  laid  down 
 different  paths  that  they  say  lead  to  union  with  Brahm  ?  But  now,  do  these 
 guides  know  precisely  where  this  Brahm,  to  whom  they  will  conduct  their 
 disciples,  actually  dwells  ?  Have  these  favoured  mortals  seen  Brahm  at 
 any  time  ?  Have  they  themselves  found  him  ?  The  young  men  are  com 
 pelled  to  acknowledge  that  the  Brahmans  have  not  seen  or  found  Brahm. 
 And  Gotama  has  made  his  first  point.  "  So,  then,"  he  says,  "  the  Brah- 
 mans versed  in  ihe  three  Vedas  have,  forsooth  !  said  thus  : — '  What  we 
 know  not,  what  we  have  not  seen,  to  a  state  of  union  with  that  we  can 
 show  the  way.'  "  The  young  men  admit  the  case  looks  much  like  that. 
 "  Well,"  but  Gotama  continues,  "  they  and  all  men  have  seen  the  sun 
 shining  in  the  sky  :  can  they  now  teach  men  to  unite  themselves  to  the 
 sun  that  they  see,  and  whose  light  and  warmth  they  feel  ?  "  The  young 
 Bralnnans  reply  that  "  the  sun  is  remote  from  men,  and  of  a  different 
 nature  from  men,  and  that  therefore  union  between  men  and  that  bright 
 luminary  is  imi)ossible."  Here  Buddha  has  hold  of  the  clue  he  needs. 
 "  So,  then,  only  beings  that  are  of  one  nature  can  be  united  ?  But  although 
 men  know  not  the  form  and  dwelling  of  Brahm,  they  know  something,  do 
 they  not,  of  the  nature  of  Bralim  ?  Is  Brahm,  for  instance,  proud,  ava- 
 ricious, quick  to  anger,  imi)ure  ?  Has  he,  or  has  he  not,  self-mastery? 
 The  young  Brahmans  answer  at  once,  that  Brahm  has  self-mastery,  that 
 he  is  free  from  pride,  avarice,  anger,  impurity.  "And  how  about  the 
 Braiimans,"  Buddha  asks,  "who  profess  to  show  the  way  to  union  with 
 Brahm  ?  "  The  young  men  are  bound  to  admit  that  the  Brahmans  are 
 avaricious,  prone  to  anger,  often  im])ure,  deficient  in  self-mastery.  "  Very 
 good,"  Gotama  continues  ;  "  that  these  Brahmans,  versed  in  the  Vedas, 
 and  yet  bearing  anger  and  malice  in  their  hearts,  sinful  and  uncontrolled, 
 should  after  death,  when  the  body  is  dissolved,  become  united  to  Brahm, 
 who  is  free  from  anger  and  malice,  sinless,  and  has  self-mastery — such  a 
 condition  of  things  has  no  existence.  So  that  thus  the  Brahmans,  versed 
 though  they  be  in  the  three  Vedas,  while  tliey  sit  down  in  confidence,  are 
 sinking  down  in  the  mire  ;  and  so  sinking,  they  are  arriving  only  at  despair, 
 thinking  the  while  that  they  are  crossing  over  into  some  happier  land." 
 
 And  then  Buddha  goes  on  to  prove  that  the  true  and  sure  method  of 
 preparation  for  union  with  Brahm  is  to  make  one's  mind  perfect,  even  as 
 the  mind  of  Brahm.  And  he  proceeds  to  set  forth  three  sets  of  rules  of 
 conduct  — the  first,  for  those  who  will  be  blameless;  the  second,  binding 
 on  those  who  will  be  virtuous ;  the  third,  necessary  for  those  who  choose 
 to  be  perfect  and  to  lead  the  Higher  Life,  whose  goal  is  Nirvana,  or  the 
 becoming  of  one  mind  and  soul  with  the  perfect  Brahm.     The  first  set  of 
 
i64  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 rules  consists  of  the  ordinary  moral  laws  of  purity,  freedom  from  cruelty, 
 covetousness,  and  deeds  of  violence.     The  second  set  of  rules  are  strict 
 enough  to  satisfy  most  Western  standards  of  perfection.     The  virtuous  man 
 must  renounce  worldly  ambition,  and  all  luxurious  tastes,  and  unprofitable 
 amusements  ;  he  must  refrain  from  idle,  as  well  as  mischievous,  words  ; 
 indeed,  the  topics  of  conversation  permitted  him  must  leave  him  a  silent 
 member  of  any  society  composed  of  average  human  beings.     He  must  not 
 "  gossip  about  great  people  "  ;  he  must  not  speak  at  all  about  meats,  drinks, 
 clothes,  couches,  perfumes,  equipages,  women,  warriors,  demigods,  fortune- 
 telling,  hidden  treasures,  ghost-stories,  nor  about  empty  tales  concerning 
 things  that  are  and  things  that  are  not."     If  these  are  the  difficulties  that 
 lie  in  the  way  of  those  who  desire  to  be  virtuous,  how  much  harder  are  the 
 counsels  of  perfection  given  to  those  who  aspire  to  lead  the  Higher  Life  ! 
 The  truly  religious  man,  Buddha  declares,  has  elected  to  live  for  the  things 
 of  the  mind  and  the  spirit  alone  ;  he  must  not  only  keep  himself  unspotted 
 from  the  world,  he  must  also  withdraw  himself  from  all  those  low  arts  and 
 lying  practices  that  win  reverence  from  men,  but  that  form  no  part  of  the 
 spiritual  vocation.     The  true  Bhikshu,  Buddha  declares,  is  no  diviner  of 
 dreams  ;  he  utters  no  spells  or  incantations  ;  he  does  not  indulge  in  pro- 
 phecies ;  he  must  not  occupy  himself  with  astrology  ;  he  must  not  lay  claim 
 to  powers  of  miraculous  healing ;  he  must  not  profess  to  discover  magical 
 virtue  in  gems,  or  weapons,  or  any  material  objects  :  in  a  word,  his  work  is 
 in  the  spiritual  and  intellectual  sphere,  and  not  amidst  the  mere  vain  show 
 of  things  that  tricks  and  bewilders  men's  senses,  but  that  the  true  sage 
 knows  has   no  real   existence.      Buddha's  attitude  towards  miracles  and 
 miracle-workers  is  so  plainly  set  forth  m  this  and  other  Suttas,  that  one  can 
 but  marvel  at  the  astonishing  audacity  of  the  modern  restorers  of  worn-out 
 and  mischievous  superstitions,  who  attempt  to  shelter  their  efforts  to  revive 
 the  belief  in  magic,  in  full  nineteenth  century,  behind  the  name  of  the 
 Great  Wise  Man  of  the  East,  who  most  resolutely  resisted  these  "  low  arts 
 and  lying  practices  "  as  unworthy  of  the  truly  religious  man.     It  is  true  that 
 Buddha's  attitude  'towards   miracles  is  not  precisely  the  modern  attitude. 
 He  does  not  say,  with   Matthew  Arnold,   that   "  the  main   objection   to 
 miracles  is,  that  they  do  not  happen."     Neither  does  he  hold,  with  the 
 founders  of  the   Psychical   Research   Society,  that  the  question  whether 
 miracles  do  or  do  not  happen  is  one  worthy  of  discussion  and  investiga- 
 tion.    He  makes  it  very  plain  that  he  does  not  consider  the  question  of 
 any  consequence  at  all.     \Vhether  miracles  do  or  do  not  happen  is  a  matter 
 of  no  importance,  from  the  spiritual  point  of  view,  and  to  the  man  occu- 
 pied with  spiritual  concerns,  since  phenomena,  occult  or  otherwise,  belong 
 to  the  sphere  of  Maya  illusion,  that  the  truly  enlightened  man  knows  to  be 
 a  mere  passing  and  deceiving  dream. 
 
 And  again,  in  The  Book  of  the  Great  Decease,  we  find  a  plain  and  direct 
 statement  that  contradicts,  in  language  unmistakably  clear  and  convincing, 
 the  assumption  that  Buddha  taught  any  secr^-t  doctrine  to  his  favourite 
 
BUDDHA    AND   BUDDHISM.  165 
 
 disciples  during  his  lifetime,  or  left  any  so-called  "  esoteric  "  faith  to  be 
 treasured  and  handed  down  by  a  select  band,  but  held  back  from  what  the 
 author  of  "  Esoteric  Buddhism  "  delights  to  describe  as  the  "  vulgar  herd." 
 When  Ananda,  the  beloved  disciple,  sees  that  the  Master  is  brought  by  old 
 age  and  sickness  near  to  death,  he  waits  anxiously  for  his  opportunity  to 
 entreat  that  the  "  Blessed  One  "  will  not  pass  away  from  existence  until  he 
 has  given  some  instructions  as  toucliing  the  Order.  And  the  aged  Buddha 
 answers  the  refjuest  with  much  the  same  gentle  reproach  that  Jesus  uses  in 
 His — "  Have  I  been  so  long  time  with  thee,  and  hast  thou  not  known  Me  ?" 
 
 "What  then,  Ananda;  does  the  (Jrder  expect  this  of  me?  I  have 
 preached  the  truth  without  making  any  distinction  between  exoteric  and 
 esoteric  doctrine  ;  for  in  respect  of  the  truth,  Ananda,  the  Tatluigata  has  no 
 such  thing  as  the  closed  fist  of  a  teacher  who  holds  some  things  back. 
 Surely,  Ananda,  should  there  be  any  one  who  harbours  the  thought,  '  It 
 is  I  who  will  lead  the  BrotherhootI,'  or  '  The  Order  is  dej^endent  upon 
 me,'  it  is  he  who  should  lay  down  instructions  in  any  matter  concern- 
 ing the  Order.  The  Tat/uh^ata  thinks  not,  Ananda,  that  he  should 
 lead  the  Brotherhood,  or  that  the  Brotherhood  is  dependent  upon  him. 
 Why,  llien,  should  he  leave  instructions  in  any  matter  concerning  the 
 Order?     .     .     . 
 
 "  Therefore,  O  Ananda,  be  ye  lamps  unto  yourselves.  Be  ye  a  refuge 
 to  yourselves.  Hold  fast  to  the  truth  as  a  lamp.  HoKl  fast  as  a  refuge  to 
 the  truth.     Look  not  for  refuge  to  any  one  beside  yourselves.     .     .     . 
 
 " .  .  .  And  whosoever,  Ananda,  either  now  or  after  I  am  dead,  shall 
 be  a  lamp  unto  themselves,  and  a  refuge  unto  themselves  .  .  .  it  is 
 they,  Ananda,  among  my  Bhikshus  who  shall  reach  the  very  topmost  height 
 — but  they  must  be  anxious  to  learn." 
 
 Here,  then,  in  the  words  that  close  Buddha's  mission  to  men,  we  have 
 stated  once  again  the  doctrine  of  self-deliverance  by  the  method  of  self- 
 culture  and  self-control.  Let  me,  in  conclusion,  quote  the  beautiful  verses 
 that  recur  over  and  over  again,  in  different  Siitias,  like  a  song  of  triumph 
 celebrating  the  concjuest  of  selfish  desires  ;  and  proving  that  the  emanci- 
 pation from  selfishness  does  not  mean  the  extinction  of  human  sympathy  : — 
 
 "  Verily,"  the  Buddha  declares,  "  this  is  the  sort  of  goodness  that  the 
 perfect  Bhikshu  has.  He  lets  his  mind  pervade  one  quarter  of  the  world 
 with  thoughts  of  love,  pity,  sympathy,  and  equanimity  ;  and  so  the  second, 
 and  so  the  third,  and  so  the  fourth. 
 
 "  Just  as  a  mighty  trumpeter  makes  himself  heard,  and  that  without  diffi- 
 culty, in  all  the  four  directions,  so  of  all  things  that  have  shape  or  life  there 
 is  not  one  that  he  passes  by  or  leaves  aside  ;  but  regards  them  all  with 
 heart  of  love,  pity,  and  equanimity,  far-reaching,  grown  great,  and  beyond 
 measure." 
 
BUDDHISM    IN    CHINA. 
 
 By  Professor  Samuel  Beal. 
 
 The  spiritual  activity  of  which  I  am  going  to  speak  is  evidenced  in  the 
 hterature  produced,  and  the  energy  displayed,  by  the  Buddhist  community 
 in  China,  through  many  centuries  of  neglect  and  persecution.  We  wish 
 to  find  out  the  secret  of  this  enej-gy,  resulting  in  the  activity  alluded  to. 
 
 The  Chinese  people  are  naturally  sluggish  in  their  ways  of  thought,  and 
 tenacious  of  old  customs.  Confucius,  their  national  teacher,  and  the 
 example  they  hold  up  for  all  ages,  was,  strictly  speaking,  a  preserver  of 
 old  thoughts  and  doctrines  ;  he  originated  very  little.  There  was  nothing 
 spiritual  in  his  teaching ;  he  avoided  all  reference  to  religion  ;  he  regarded 
 Life,  existing  Life,  as  the  right  object  of  study ;  he  looked  on  man  as  a 
 member  of  society  ;  and  his  aim  was  to  show  that  man  by  complete 
 sincerity  may  give  full  development  to  his  nature  and  become  the  equal  of 
 heaven  and  earth.  It  is  plain  he  rather  retarded  than  promoted  the 
 spiritual  activity  of  wliich  the  mind  of  man  is  capable,  when  set  free  from 
 the  trammels  of  artificial  restraints. 
 
 Taouism,  the  teaching  of  Laou-tseu,  the  old  philosopher,  wlio  was  born 
 perhaps  fifty  years  before  Confucius,  or  about  six  hundred  years  B.C.,  is  an 
 obscure  system  of  transcendental  philosophy.  Its  founder  no  doubt  was  a 
 great  awakener  of  thought,  but  the  activity  which  he  developed  was  more 
 of  a  philosophical  or  mystic  character.  His  system  has  been  called  a 
 purely  politico-ethical  one.  Confucius  tried  to  reform  the  empire  by  the 
 imposition  of  forms  and  artificial  rules,  Laou-tseu  tried  to  go  back  to  the 
 state  of  primitive  society  before  forms  were,  and  before  regulations  existed. 
 He  held  fast  to  three  precious  things — compassion,  economy,  humility ; 
 and  by  these  he  taught  the  people  that  they  might  return  home  to  Taou  ; 
 that  is,  as  it  seems,  the  original  and  simplest  principle  of  purity  and  wisdom. 
 He  was,  strictly  speaking,  a  reformer,  not  after  the  type  of  Confucius,  who 
 went  back  to  the  condition  of  things  in  times  of  Yaou  and  Shun,  and  took 
 those  times  as  the  model  for  imitation  ;  but  he  boldly  recurred  to  the 
 time  when  the  sovereigns  possessed  Taou,  and  ruled  over  a  peaceful  and 
 contented  empire ;  he  opposed  what  has  been  called  educational  activity, 
 and  settled  down  to  find  out,  already  in  himself,  the  ideal  of  man's  perfec- 
 tion in  the  unalloyed  simphcity  of  an  original  perfection. 
 
 There  had  been  a  good  deal  of  material  activity  in  China  down  to  the 
 
 time  of  the  building  of  the  Great  Wall,  in  the  reign  of  the  first  Universal 
 
 Emperor  She-hwang-ti,  about  209  B.C.     The  great  Yu  had  drained  off  the 
 
 waters  of  the  Yellow  River,  and  redeemed  a  vast  area  from  the  condition 
 
 166 
 
BUDDHISM  IN  CHINA.  167 
 
 of  a  swamp  to  the  richest  land  of  the  empire  ;  the  Great  Canal,  seven 
 hundred  miles  in  length,  with  its  embankments,  flood-gates,  and  bridges, 
 is  a  marvel  of  engineering  skill ;  the  system  of  tillage  and  irrigation  of  their 
 high-level  fields  exhibited  not  only  the  ingenuity  of  the  people  but  their 
 mechanical  skill,  whilst  the  crowning  work— the  building  of  the  Great 
 Wall — was  a  gigantic  and  successful  undertaking,  showing  us  what  such  a 
 people  can  do  when  rightly,  or  rather  doggedly,  directed  by  a  mind  cap- 
 able of  conceiving  such  a  scheme. 
 
 I  need  not  refer  to  the  intellectual  activity  of  the  great  mass  of  the 
 people,  in  their  wonderful  development  of  a  native  literature.  It  would 
 occupy  too  much  time  even  to  glance  at  this  feature  of  their  character.  I 
 may  only  say  that  there  is  wanting  in  all  this  exhibition  of  material  and 
 intellectual  progress  any  sign  of  sjtiritual  life  or  aspiration  ;  the  sight  is  that 
 of  a  people  struggling  forward  on  one  uniform  line  of  social  development, 
 bent  only  on  the  happiness  of  the  greater  number,  careless  about  the  eleva- 
 tion of  the  race  or  the  cultivation  of  the  latent  i>owers  of  our  spiritual 
 nature. 
 
 A  knowledge  of  Uuddhism  and  its  origin  was  arrived  at  by  the  Chinese 
 in  the  following  way  : — There  had  been  an  irruption  of  some  barbarous 
 people,  bordering  on  the  north  and  north-west  of  China,  about  the  year 
 200  li.c,  on  the  territories  of  another  people  known  as  the  Yue-ti,  or 
 Vue-chi,  who  had  by  steps  and  degrees  advanced  from  the  mountainous 
 region  of  Central  Asia  towards  the  borders  of  China.  These  latter  people 
 were  driven  back  by  the  Northern  barbarians,  who  now  became  a  terror  to 
 the  Chinese  themselves.  Accordingly  in  the  reign  of  Wu-ti,  of  the  Han 
 dynasty,  140  n.c,  a  celebrated  minister  called  Chang-ki'en,  was  sent  to  the 
 far  west  as  an  envoy  to  the  Yue-ti,  with  a  view  to  arouse  them  to  resist 
 the  advance  of  the  victorious  Tartars  on  the  West,  whilst  the  Chinese 
 attacked  them  on  the  East.  His  mission  was  unsuccessful,  but  after 
 various  adventures  he  returned  to  his  country,  having  been  the  first  native 
 of  China,  so  far  as  is  known,  to  penetrate  to  the  Caspian  Sea  on  the 
 \V'est.  Shortly  after  this,  viz.,  B.C.  123,  a  celebrated  general,  Ho-ku-ping, 
 was  sent  by  the  same  Emperor  Wu-ti  to  operate  against  the  barbarians 
 before  alluded  to,  over  whom  he  gained  brilliant  victories,  and  in  B.C.  121 
 he  penetrated  with  his  army  one  thousand  //',  i.e.  some  two  hundred  miles, 
 beyond  the  borders  of  Turkestan,  into  probably  the  Kashgar  or  Yarkand 
 territory,  or  perhaps  so  far  as  Baktra,  from  which  place  he  brought  back 
 as  a  trophy  a  golden  image,  as  it  is  said,  of  Buddha.  This  was  the  first 
 intimation,  as  it  seems,  of  the  religion  of  Buddha  in  China. 
 
 'J'his  golden  or  gilded  image  was,  however,  to  lead  to  great  consequences 
 — for,  after  the  lapse  of  some  fifty  years,  i.e.  in  the  year  65  a.d.,  a  mission 
 was  sent  to  the  Western  world,  to  find  out  more  of  the  subject.  The 
 Emperor  Ming-ti  had,  as  related,  seen  a  vision  during  his  sleep,  in  which 
 he  beheld  a  golden  messenger  flying  through  space  and  entering  his  palace. 
 There  are  two  versions  of  this  story  :  the  first  tells  us  that  the  Emperor  in 
 
1 68  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 his  dream  saw  a  golden  image  about  nineteen  feet  in  height,  resplendent 
 and  with  a  halo  bright  as  the  sun,  enter  his  palace.  This  vision  the 
 literati  interpreted  as  referring  to  Buddha,  a  thought  doubtless  suggested 
 by  the  golden  image  brought  back  by  Ho-ku-ping.  A  second  version  says 
 that  the  golden  spirit  itself  spoke  to  the  Emperor,  and  said  :  "  Buddha  bids 
 you  send  to  the  Western  countries  and  search  for  him,  with  a  view  to 
 obtain  books  and  images." 
 
 Be  this  as  it  may,  I  observe  that  this  story  has  a  non-Chinese  origin  ; 
 the  idea  of  an  angel  or  messenger  flying  from  heaven,  and  revealing  itself 
 by  a  dream,  is  evidently  of  Persian  extraction.  The  Chinese  at  this  time 
 had  gained  a  knowledge  of  Persia ;  the  astrology  and  astronomy  of  that 
 country  had  already  penetrated  so  far  •  and  now  the  intervention  of 
 heavenly  messengers  for  the  first  time  is  heard  of  There  was  a  nascent 
 sense  of  the  supernatural  in  mundane  things  beginning  to  be  developed, 
 leading  to  active  results  ;  and  its  origin  I  take  to  be  in  the  growing  inter- 
 course of  China  with  the  West,  and  especially  the  borders  of  Media  and 
 Persia.  In  consequence  of  the  vision  he  had  seen,  the  Emperor  immedi- 
 ately sent  Ts'ai  Yin,  Tsing  King,  and  Wang  Tsun,  wiih  fifteen  others,  as 
 envoys  to  India,  to  search  for  and  bring  back  books,  and,  if  possible, 
 Buddhist  priests  from  India.  They  reached  the  land  of  the  Yue-ti,  i.e.  the 
 Vajjis,  and  after  some  years'  absence  returned  home  with  books  and 
 images  or  pictures  from  the  frontier  of  India,  accompanied  by  two  teachers 
 or  priests,  called  respectively  Saddharma  and  Kasyapa  Matanga.  These 
 foreign  teachers  took  up  their  residence  at  Loyang,  and  translated  several 
 books,  or  at  any  rate  compiled  them,  among  which  were  two  I  will  name 
 — i.e.  the  Sictra  of  Forty-two  Paragraphs  and  the  Life  of  Btiddha. 
 
 The  Sutra  of  Forty-two  Paragraphs  is  an  epitome  of  Buddhist  ethics. 
 It  was  a  compilation,  not  a  translation.  Its  teaching  is  purely  practical  : 
 to  avoid  evil  to  do  good  ;  to  banish  lust  and  impure  desire  from  the  heart ; 
 to  progress  in  the  path  of  righteous  doing — these  and  other  duties  are 
 named,  and  the  authority  of  Buddha  in  each  case  is  quoted ;  thus  : 
 
 "  Buddha  said  :  '  A  man  who  rudely  grasps  or  longs  for  wealth  and 
 pleasure  is  like  a  child  coveting  honey  surrounding  a  knife — scarcely  has 
 he  had  one  taste  of  its  sweetness  before  he  perceives  the  pain  of  his 
 wounded  tongue.' " 
 
 "  Again,  Buddha  said :  '  A  religious  person,  or  a  person  practising 
 religious  duties,  should  regard  himself  as  an  ox  carrying  a  load  through 
 the  mud — tired  out  v/ith  his  exertions,  he  presses  onward,  not  daring  to 
 turn  either  to  the  right  hand  or  the  left,  till  he  escapes  from  it  and  finds 
 rest.  So  the  religious  man  regards  his  passions  and  bodily  desires  as 
 worse  than  the  mud,  and  bends  his  whole  soul  to  the  pursuit  of  the  Path, 
 and  so  longs  to  escape  from  sorrow.'  " 
 
 The  for>/i  of  these  paragraphs  is  perhaps  borrowed  from  the  usual  style 
 of  the  Confucian  books,  which  generally  begin,  at  least  in  the  Analects, 
 with  the  plirase,   "The  Master  said  " — meaning  Confucius.     And  so  here 
 
BUDDHISM   IX  CHIXA.  169 
 
 each  of  the  forty  two  paragraphs  begins  with  the  words  :  "  IJudJha  said." 
 There  is  no  such  method,  as  far  as  my  reading  goes,  known  in  the  original 
 works  of  Ikiddliism,  so  that  we  must  presume  the  style  was  borrowed  from 
 the  native  literature  of  China,  with  a  view  to  commend  it  to  the  people. 
 Ikit  on  the  other  hand  we  may  notice  that  this  style  of  composition  is  the 
 usual  one  in  the  edicts  of  I  )arius.  Thus,  in  the  Behislun  inscription,  we 
 read  :  — 
 
 "Thus  says  Darius  tlie  King  :  '  My  father  was  Hystaspis,' "  etc. 
 
 "And  says  Darius  the  King  :  '  By  the  grace  of  Ormazd  I  am  King,'" 
 etc. 
 
 "  And  says  Darius  the  King  :  '  These  are  the  countries  which  are  called 
 mine,'  "  etc. 
 
 "  And  says  Darius  the  King  :  '  Within  these  countries  whoever  was 
 pious,  to  them  I  alfonled  .protection ;  whoever  was  impious  I  have 
 punislied,'"  etc. 
 
 I  only  quote  these  clauses  to  show  the  general  agreement  in  composition 
 betwixt  the  paragraplis  of  the  Buddhist  Sutra  and  the  paragraphs  of  the 
 edicts  of  Darius. 
 
 I'.ut  I  trace  also  a  jxarallel  between  the  moral  or  etiiical  doctrines  laid 
 down  in  this  early  Buddhist  compilation,  and  the  morality  or  system  of 
 morals  which  characterizes  the  Iranian  or  J'crsian  system  derived  from  the 
 ])rimitive  teaching  of  Zoroaster.  "Zoroaster  (we  are  told  by  Mr.  Mills, 
 ihc  latest  exponent  of  his  teaching)  was  only  a  link  in  a  far-extended 
 chain  of  teachers,  who  had  risen  at  various  times  to  reform  or  instruct  the 
 nations.  His  system,  like  those  of  his  predecessors  and  successors,  was  a 
 growth.  His  main  conceptions  had  been  surmiseti,  though  not  spoken, 
 before.  The  world  was  ripe  for  them,  and  when  he  ap|)eared  he  had  only 
 to  utter  and  develop  them.  I  would  not  call  him  a  Reformer  ;  he  does 
 not  repudiate  his  predecessors ;  the  old  Aryan  gods  retire  before  the 
 spiritual  Ahura,  but  I  do  not  think  he  specially  intended  to  discredit 
 them.  But  the  great  Benevolence,  Order,  and  Power,  together  with  their 
 results  in  the  human  subject,  i.e.  Ahura's  piety,  incarnate  in  men,  and 
 their  weal  and  immortality  in  conseijuence,  crowd  out  all  other  thoughts." 
 — {Sacred  Books  of  the  East,  vol.  xxxi.     Preface.) 
 
 Again,  the  same  writer  says,  with  regard  to  the  Zoroastrian  doctrine, 
 that  "it  includes  this  fundamental  principle  :  There  can  be  no  happiness 
 undefined  by  sorrow,  and  no  goodness  which  does  not  resist  sin.  Ac- 
 cordingly, the  evil  principle  is  so  necessary  that  it  is  represented  by  an 
 evil  god.     His  very  name,  however,  is  a  thought  or  a  passion." — {Ibid.) 
 
 The  same  truths  or  principles  are  distinctly  laid  down  in  the  Buddhist 
 system,  as  it  is  exhibited  in  Chinese-writings  ;  Buddha  was  the  enlightened 
 one;  "the  wisdom  and  piety  which  may  become  incarnate  in  men  "  was 
 engendered  in  him  as  it  was  in  Zaratushtra,  He  expressly  taught  that  he 
 was  only  one  in  a  succession  of  enlightened  teachers,  he  was  the  Tatha- 
 gata,  i.e.  the  One  who  came  as  his  predecessor,  the  Kight/y  Come.      He 
 
lyo  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OE   THE    WORLD. 
 
 did  not  reject  the  old  gods  of  the  people,  Brahma  Sahampati,  Indra  the 
 Ruler  of  Heaven  (or,  of  Devas),  and  so  on  ;  but  he  superseded  them 
 by  the  spiritual  conception  of  a  perfect  Righteousness  incarnate  in  each 
 ]5uddha.  The  great  Rcnevolence,  Order,  and  Power  are  leading  thoughts 
 in  his  system  ;  several  temples  in  China  are  called  the  Great  Benevolence 
 or  Loving-kindness  Temples.^  The  "  Order,"  or  "Divine  Order,"  is  ex- 
 hibited in  the  very  name  of  DJianna,  and  the  regular  constitution  of  the 
 Community ;  and  the  Power  of  the  all-powerful  one,  the  Dasabala,  or  the 
 tenfold  strong  one,  is  constantly  attributed  as  one  of  the  Buddha's  attri- 
 butes. Then  again,  as  to  the  results  in  the  human  subject,  their  weal  and 
 immortality,  Buddha's  teaching  expressly  points  to  an  ultimate  good  or 
 deliverance,  and  consequent  hap[)iness  ;  e.g.  in  i^  13,  Buddha  said,  "Who 
 is  the  good  man  ?  The  religious  or  pious  man  only  is  good.  And  what 
 is  goodness  ?  First  and  foremost,  it  is  the  agreement  of  the  will  with  the 
 conscience,  or  reason.  Who  is  the  great  man  ?  He  who  is  strongest  in 
 the  exercise  of  patience  ;  he  who  patiently  endures  wrong  and  leads  a 
 blameless  life;  he  is  a  man  indeed.  And  who  is  the  truly  enlightened? 
 A  man  wholly  freed  from  the  power  of  sin,  possessed  of  perfect  knowledge, 
 sees  and  hears  all  things  ;  such  a  man  is,  indeed,  possessed  of  the  highest 
 good."  And  such  a  man,  Buddha  teaches,  has  obtained  already  eternal 
 rest — to  use  his  own  phrase,  has  tasted  the  "  sweet  dew  "  that  is  the  Nectar 
 of  immortality.  An  immortality,  however,  independent  of  the  trammels  of 
 individual  existence,  but  yet  real  and  substantial — the  immortality  which 
 attaches  to  the  Being  of  one  who  having  had  no  birth  cannot  die. 
 
 Again,  the  Zoroastrian  doctrine  asserts  that  there  can  be  no  happiness  j 
 
 undefined  by  sorrow — that  is,  that  sorrow  is  wrapped  up  with  all  human 
 sources  of  happiness,  a  doctrine  fully  developed  in  Buddhism.  And  in  the 
 Sutra  before  us — e.g.  in  §  35 — Buddha  says  :  "  A  religious  man  has  his 
 griefs  and  sorrows  like  the  rest  of  the  world,  for  from  birth  till  old  age,  and 
 from  this  through  disease  to  death,  the  sorrows  to  be  endured  are  endless ; 
 the  world  is  encompassed  with  sorrow." 
 
 This,  too,  is  the  first  of  the  four  great  truths  which  lie  at  the  foundation 
 of  the  system,  that  sorrow  exists,  ever  increases,  but  may  be  escaped  by 
 the  way  of  the  Master's  teaching. 
 
 And  once  more  the  Evil  Principle,  or  the  Evil  or  Wicked  One,  Mara  or 
 Pisuna,  is  common  both  to  the  Iranian  and  the  so-called  Indian  system. 
 We  are  all,  like  Buddha  himself,  subject  to  the  temptations  or  fascinations 
 or  bewitchments  of  this  Evil  Principle  ;  he  is  represented  as  "  the  Lord  of 
 this  world,"  i-e.  this  loka ;  and  what  is  stranger  still,  in  a  curious  Siitra 
 well  known  in  China,  he  is  represented  as  coming  to  Upagupta,  one  of  the 
 early  apostles  of  Buddhism,  as  an  angel  of  light,  in  the  shape  of  Buddha 
 
 '  And  so  in  §  7  of  the  Siilra  we  are  considering,  Buddha  says:  "The  man  who 
 foolishly  does  me  wrong,  to  him  I  will  return  the  protection  of  my  ungrudging  love." 
 Wiiere  in  the  original  the  expression  ungrudging  love  points  to  the  four  elements  of 
 licnevolence,  /.<•.,  love,  pity,  sympathy,  and  cipiauimity  (or,  impartiality). 
 
BUDDHISM  IX  CI/IX.l.  n 
 
 himself,  hy  which  Upagnpta  was  so  fascinated  that  he  fell  down  and  wor- 
 shif>[)ed  him. 
 
 It  is  also  a  legend  known  everywhere  that  Ananda  himself,  the  bosom 
 companion  and  attendant  of  Huddha,  was  so  bewitched  by  the  fascinating 
 influence  of  this  Evil  One  that  he  failed  to  ask  his  Master  to  continue  in 
 the  world  for  the  entire  age,  and  in  consequence  the  iJuddha  died. 
 
 The  name  of  the  Iranian  \W\\  Principle,  however,  is  a  thought  or  a 
 passion — he  is  called  "the  Angry  Mind";  and  so  in  the  scene  of  the 
 (ircat  'remfjtation  of  Buddha,  the  three  daughters — i.e.,  the  abstract 
 f|ualilies  of  the  Kvil  Principle — are  :  Concupiscence,  Lust,  and  Anger  ; 
 and  the  prevailing  sentiment  in  the  entire  episode  is,  that  Mara  represents 
 the  thought  of  unbridled  rage.  He  is  the  pasiion  thought  that  opposes 
 \\\{i  f!;(i(id  ihouglit. 
 
 I  contend,  then,  that  as  we  find  nothing  of  all  this  in  the  pre-Buddhist 
 literature  of  Indii,  we  must  seek  its  origin  elsewhere  than  in  that  country  ; 
 and,  fron)  long  study,  I  feel  scarcely  any  doubt  that  the  great  outline  of 
 the  Huddhist  system  was  brought  to  India  by  perhaps  the  very  first  settlers 
 in  the  country  ;  that  it  was  repressed  and  hidden  under  the  paramount 
 aiilhority  of  the  first  Aryan  invasion  ;  and  that  after  a  time  there  was  an 
 upheaval  of  old  beliefs,  as  the  new  doctrine  was  corrupted;  and  by  the 
 personal  influence  of  the  great  Master  himself,  the  system  he  taught  super- 
 seded the  old  one,  and  reigned  dominant  in  India  for  a  thousand  years. 
 
 It  may  be  as  well  to  point  out  some  broad  and  general  reasons  for  dis- 
 connecting the  origin  of  Buddhism  with  any  supposed  development  of 
 Indian  doctrine  in  that  direction. 
 
 In  the  first  place,  let  us  take  the  worship  of  relics.  In  China  this  is  a 
 common  su])erstition,  where  the  sariras  of  Buddha,  whether  a  bone  or  a 
 hair,  are  religiously  preserved.  One  of  the  greatest  of  the  literati  in  the 
 Tang  dynasty  was  banished  for  protesting  against  the  worship  of  a  decayed 
 bone.  This  form  of  worship  is  coeval  with  the  rise  of  Buddhism  ;  but  in 
 15rahmanism,  though  the  word  stfipa  is  used,  yet  there  is  no  mention  what- 
 ever of  relic  worship.  It  is  of  pre-Aryan  origin,  and  may  be  traced  back 
 to  the  world-wide  custom  of  tombs  erected  over  the  incinerated  remains  of 
 some  famous  hero  or  chieftain  in  the  early,  if  not  earliest,  days  of  the 
 world's  history. 
 
 Max  Miiller  states  that  Buddhism  starts  with  a  denial  of  the  sacred 
 character  of  the  Vedas. — {India,  p.  i8o.)  Again,  Oldenberg  has  this 
 remark  :  "  In  training  of  nobles  in  those  lands  which  were  but  slightly 
 attached  to  Brahnianism,  more  attention  was  paid  to  martial  exercises  than 
 to  the  Vedas.  Buddhists  have  not  attributed  Vedic  knowledge  to  their 
 Master." — {Buddhism,  p.  loo.) 
 
 Again,  the  same  writer  says  :  "  Vedic  culture  has  not  had  its  home, 
 originally  at  least,  amongst  these  stocks  of  the  East — i.e.  the  Sakyas  and 
 Magadhas." — {Ibid.,  p.  411.) 
 
 Again,  he  says  the  Sakyas  and  their  neighbours  were  little  affected  by 
 
1/2  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Brahmanic  influences.  In  fact  the  whole  of  the  Magadha  territory,  where 
 Buddha  first  taught  (although  he  was  born  and  trained  in  Kapilavastu), 
 was  never  wholly  Brahmanized,  and  Buddha  did  not  speak  Sanskrit ;  and 
 he  questions  whether  the  Magadhas  were  Aryans. — Ibid.,  pp.  400,  403.) 
 
 It  is  true,  Oldenberg  remarks,  that  "  during  Buddha's  lifetime  there  was 
 a  union  of  Teacher  and  Master,  after  the  Brahman ical  model." — -{Ibid..,  p. 
 
 237-) 
 
 But  why  after  the  Brahntanical  model ;  there  were  other  teachers  and 
 
 disciples  besides  the  Brahmans  in  India  ;  and  the  model  may  be  sought 
 far  afield  ;  there  were  Schools  of  the  Prophets  in  Israel ;  the  Magi  had 
 their  initiated  followers  in  Persia  or  Media ;  the  followers  of  Pythagoras 
 and  the  early  Greek  schools  might  show  us  a  model.  In  fact,  it  is  an  ele- 
 mental arrangement,  resulting  from  the  very  nature  of  the  thing,  that  a 
 teacher  must  have  followers.  And  we  do  not  wonder  then  that  it  was  so 
 with  the  Buddha.  Only  in  his  case  the  disciples  were  won  by  the  exercise 
 of  spiritual  control,  the  activity  of  the  Order  was  spiritual — i.e.  not  so 
 much  logical  or  disputative,  as  authoritative  over  the  conscience.  It  was 
 a  spiritual  activity  that  now  began  to  work  in  India,  and  was  transferred 
 to  China  as  a  part  of  the  system  inaugurated  by  the  Master. 
 
 We  have  a  striking  example  of  this  spiritual  influence  in  the  very  first 
 account  of  Buddha's  career.  He  had  gained  illumination,  and  was  a 
 supreme  Buddha.  Oldenberg  would  tell  us  he  was  "  a  converted  man." 
 He  had  hesitated  for  a  time  whether  the  world  was  prepared  for  his 
 doctrine,  but,  at  last,  was  persuaded  by  Brahma  Sahampati  to  go  forth 
 and  preach.  I  say  preach,  because  he  had  a  message  to  the  conscience, 
 and  not  to  the  intellect  only.  He  prepared,  therefore,  to  begin  his  work. 
 His  old  friends,  who  were  not  necessarily  Brahmans,  were  dead,  and  so  he 
 went  to  Benares  to  seek  for  and  convert  the  five  men  who  had  been  sent 
 by  his  Father  to  watch  him  and  track  his  steps.  These  five  men  had  left 
 him,  disappointed  because,  after  a  six  years'  fast,  the  teacher  had  dis- 
 covered that  right  wisdom  did  not  result  from  extreme  asceticism,  as  it 
 certainly  did  not  from  unrestraint.  They  had  left  him  partly  in  anger,  but 
 more  in  distrust,  and  had  gone  to  Benares.  He  went  on  his  way  thitiier : 
 on  the  road  he  met  a  young  Brahman  called  Upaka  ;  the  youth  was 
 arrested  by  the  strange  appearance  of  the  Master,  so  self-possessed,  so 
 noble  in  his  gait,  and  unaff'ected  in  his  deep  purpose.  There  was,  as  Mrs. 
 Jameson  says  of  the  expression  of  Christ's  face,  in  his  face  a  sort  of  divine 
 sympathy  towards  the  human  race ;  they  spoke  together,  and  the  young 
 man,  overwhelmed  with  the  feeling  that  he  had  been  in  contact  with  some 
 one  greatly  superior  to  himself,  hesitated,  halted  as  he  went  on,  looked 
 back,  but  finally  separated  himself  from  the  fascination  of  this  strange 
 presence. 
 
 The  Master  went  on — came  to  Benares,  and  advanced  to  the  Park  of 
 Deer,  where  the  five  men  were  practising  their  religious  duties.  When 
 they  saw  him,  strong  in  his  purpose,  recovered  from  his  exhausting  fast, 
 
BUDDHISM  IN  CHINA.  173 
 
 commanding  in  his  person,  they  declared  they  would  not  move  nor  greet 
 him  as  he  came.  The  Master  approached  still  nearer,  and  then,  strange 
 to  say— drawn  by  an  irresistible  charm,  beyond  control — the  five  men  rose, 
 saluted  him  as  he  advanced,  prepared  him  a  seat,  bathed  his  feet,  and  by 
 the  first  sermon  he  preached  were  converted.  This  sermon  on  the  four 
 great  truths,  is  well  known.  ".Sorrow  and  deliverance  from  Sorrow  "is 
 the  "Tt'.v/";  \\\c'' Sermon"  how  to  find  deliverance  and  arrive  at  rest. 
 And  the  consequence,  as  the  Chinese  version  of  the  Mahakavya  charita 
 says,  was  this  : — 
 
 "  The  great  Lord  Hucidha  now  has  moved  the  world, 
 lie  turns  the  relijjioiis  wheel  of  jierfect  purity. 
 The  stormy  winds  arc  hushed,  the  chjuds  disperse<l. 
 1  )<>wii  fall  from  space  the  heavenly  (lowers. 
 'I  he  anj^els  revel  in  celestial  joys  — fdled  with  unutterable  gladness." 
 
 This  idea  of  angels  rejoicing  in  worldly  concerns  is  entirely  non-Indian 
 or  uii-Brahmanic  ;  it  has  the  ring  of  other  teaching,  and  of  people  far 
 removed  from  any  Indian  centre. 
 
 But  I  will  i)ass  on  to  observe  proofs  of  the  spiritual  activity  excited  in 
 China  by  the  Introduction  of  Buddliism. 
 
 I.ct  us  allude  to  the  vast  body  of  Buddhist  Literature  produced  in  that 
 country.  When  the  entire  copy  of  the  Buddhist  Trij>itaka  in  Chinese  was 
 sent  to  this  country  a  few  years  ago,  I  was  instructed  by  the  Secretary  of 
 State  for  Intlia  to  catalogue  and  report  upon  it. 
 
 As  it  came  to  us  in  several  huge  boxes,  I  calculated  that,  if  one  packet 
 were  placed  on  another  in  an  upright  position,  the  whole  pillar  of  books 
 would  be  something  like  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  in  height. 
 
 Now  this  literature  is  principally  a  body  of  translations — translations 
 from  various  originals — made  by  foreign  priests  or  teachers,  who  were 
 constrained  by  a  desire  to  propagate  their  religion  to  travel  to  the  East. 
 As  I  have  already  noticed,  the  first  teachers  who  came  to  China  arrived 
 there  about  73  ad.,  and  brought  with  them  books,  some  of  which,  as 
 they  translated  them,  still  survive.  Tcnii)les  were  founded  for  their  ac- 
 commodation, and  the  Emperor  and  the  court  were  their  patrons. 
 
 Following  them,  in  rapid  succession,  other  foreign  teachers  reached  the 
 country :  some  were  Parthians,  some  were  Huns,  and  some  Indians. 
 They  all  brought  books,  and  went  on  translating  ;  and  the  Chinese  went 
 on  building  temples  and  monasteries,  till  the  whole  country  was  covered 
 with  them.  There  were  intervals  of  persecution  and  reaction,  but  there 
 was  a  spiritual  activity  abroad,  which  had  scarcely  ever  been  equalled 
 before  in  the  country.  Now  what  was  the  origin  of  this  ?  Partly,  no 
 doubt,  it  resulted  from  an  enthusiasm  derived  from  the  foreign  teachers 
 themselves,  but  principally  from  the  system. 
 
 The  secret  of  the  power  of  the  Buddhist  doctrine  lies  in  this,  that  it  is 
 an  utterly  unselfish  one ;  it  teaches  us  from  Buddha's  example  that  the 
 greatest  good  and  happiness  a  man  can  enjoy  is  to  do  good  to  others. 
 The  thought  of  self  is  evil.     The  love  of  others  than  ourselves  is  the  end 
 
174  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  religion.  Hence  the  example  of  Buddha  is  constantly  quoted  ;  e.g. 
 Fa-hien,  the  Chinese  pilgrim  to  India,  tells  us  he  heard  the  following 
 announcement  made  by  an  eloquent  man  in  Ceylon.  This  man,  mounted 
 on  a  gaudily  caparisoned  elepliant,  and  clad  in  royal  apparel,  spoke  thus  : 
 "Our  Bodhisattva — i.e.  Buddha  in  a  previous  condition — during  endless 
 ages,  underwent  every  kind  of  austerity  for  the  sake  of  delivering  all  flesh. 
 He  spared  himself  no  personal  suffering,  he  left  his  home  and  country,  he 
 gave  up  wife  and  children,  he  tore  out  his  eyes  to  heal  the  blind,  he  cut 
 his  flesh  to  feed  the  dove,  he  gave  his  head  in  alms,  he  sacrificed  his  body 
 to  feed  a  tiger,  he  grudged  neither  his  marrow  nor  his  brain.  Thus  he 
 endured  every  sort  of  anguish  for  the  good  of  others.  After  he  became  a 
 Buddha  he  lived  in  the  world  forty-nine  years  to  teach  and  convert  men. 
 He  gave  rest  to  the  wretched ;  he  saved  the  lost ;  then  he  died ;  the  eyes 
 of  the  world  were  put  out,  and  all  living  things  were  filled  with  sorrow. 
 After  ten  days  his  relics  will  be  brought  forth,  let  all  persons  come  and  do 
 them  reverence." 
 
 Now  here  lies  much  of  the  power  of  the  Buddhist  teaching — this  idea 
 of  unselfish  thought  for  others,  and  it  is  this  which  led  to  the  spiritual 
 activity  of  which  I  am  speaking,  and  to  the  diffusion  of  the  vast  literature 
 in  which  these  instances  of  self-denial  are  recorded.  It  was  all  strange  to 
 the  Chinese,  but  it  commended  itself  to  their  consciences. 
 
 Take  again  the  profound  doctrine  embodied  in  Buddhism,  and  de- 
 veloped in  China.  I  mean  the  vast  consequences  of  rightly  or  wrongly 
 formed  character.  This  character  is  formed  by  conduct.  The  Buddhists, 
 we  are  told,  do  not  acknowledge  a  human  "soul."  I  think  Butler  in  his 
 works  does  not  use  this  word  ;  he  speaks  of  a  vital  principle,  but  not  of 
 the  soul.  It  is  difficult  to  define  the  word — we  might  understand  the 
 independent  existence  of  spirit,  but  the  word  "  soul "  as  a  living  personal 
 identity  is  difficult  to  define.  Anyhow,  it  was  not  understood  in  the  way 
 we  understand  it  by  the  Buddhists.  They  spoke  of  the  soul  in  the  eye, 
 in  the  ear,  and  in  the  different  organs  or  entrances  of  the  body.  They 
 denied  that  the  sight  was,  or  contained,  the  soul,  or  the  hearing,  or 
 the  smelling  ;  whatever  was  apprehended  by  the  senses,  even  down  to 
 "  mind," /.^.  the  cognitive  faculty — all  these  were  unreal,  vanishing,  and 
 delusive  ;  in  this  way  they  denied  the  existence  of  any  monad  like  our 
 conception  of  soul.  But  they  affirmed  the  re-productive  power  of  charac- 
 ter, and  also  what  is  called  salvation  by  character.  Now  I  maintain  that 
 this  word  "character"  and  what  is  called  soul  are  identical.  I  will  quote 
 from  a  little  tract  before  me  that  some  one  sent  me  yesterday  morning. 
 It  is  entitled  The  Theology  of  the  Future,  by  Dr.  James  Freeman  Clarke. 
 1  may  say  I  know  nothing  of  this  gentleman,  or  his  publishers  ;  but  I  am 
 bound  to  say  there  is  much  to  recommend  his  tract.  The  fourth  section 
 is  headed  "  Salvation  by  Character,"  and  he  proceeds  to  say  salvation 
 means  the  highest  peace  and  joy  of  which  the  soul  is  capable.  But  here 
 the  writer  runs  counter  to  the  Platonic  doctrine,  which  is  taken  up   by 
 
BUDDHISM  IN  CIIIXA.  i7  5 
 
 Huilcr  :  if  ilic  soul  has  a  character,  it  is  not  a  simple  entity,  simply  soul  ;  it 
 is  soul  plus  character,  and  being  compound  it  cannot  be  eternal.  So  that 
 it  seems  soul  and  character  must  be  identical  and  simple.  And  here  I 
 cannot  but  notice  the  marked  agreement  between  the  teaching  of  Huddha 
 and  riato  on  this  point  of  "simple  being":  the  liuddhists  say  whatever 
 is  compounded  is  temporary— the  word  is  Sanik/tiira,  which  Mr.  Rhys 
 Davids  translates  "  confection";  e.xactly  the  same  word  is  used  by  Plaio 
 when  he  speaks  of  compounded  things  being  transitory  ;  he  says  they  are 
 (Tvidtra  {Pluedo,  cap.  25),  which  is  very  much  like  the  Buddhist  Samkluira; 
 but,  he  argues,  the  soul — where  he  does  not  mean  the  individual  soul,  but 
 the  part  of  the  universal  soul,  separated  for  a  time  but  destined  to  return 
 —  is  a  siinplf  essence,  and  therefore  immortal  ;  so,  with  the  Buddhists, 
 character  is  immortal— not  the  same  identical  character,  but  the  result  of 
 conduct  in  character — good  or  bad — ever  tending  to  the  ultimate  character 
 of  unalloyed  and  simple  goodness  ;  or,  to  use  other  words,  the  character 
 of  CJod,  besides  whom  there  is  none  good. 
 
 Now  what  I  want  to  say  is,  that  there  is  a  power  in  this  thought  which 
 must  result  in  activity.  NVe  are  forming  our  cluiractfr ;  it  is  in  our  own 
 hands ;  it  is  a  noble  work ;  we  are  building  up  gold,  silver,  hay,  stubble — 
 the  fire  will  try  us.  Here,  I  repeat,  is  the  secret  of  the  power  of  Buddhist 
 doctrine  :  whether  he  was  right  or  wrong  in  details,  the  Master  laid  down 
 in  (his  (as  in  the  former  case  of  vicarious  suffering)  a  principle  that 
 commends  iiself  to  the  conscience  and  the  untrammelled  reason.  We 
 are  building  ourselves  up,  sha|)ing  ourselves — i.e.  our  characters — for  the 
 future  ;  the  responsibility  is  great,  but  the  perfect  daylight  and  the  freedom 
 in  which  we  bask,  the  nobility  of  thought,  the  high  resolve,  the  steadfast 
 purpose — all  these  as  active  or  motive  powers  are  the  spurs  that  urge  us 
 on  to  a  virtuous  life.  I  cannot  allow  myself,  although  encroaching  on 
 your  time,  to  pass  by  the  identity  of  belief — or  fancy,  if  you  will — on  this 
 point  between  the  Greek  and  Buddhist  definition  of  this  all-potent  ele- 
 ment. The  Buddhist  says  that  Karma,  which  the  Chinese  translate  as 
 "  building  up  "  or  "structure"  (in  the  sense  of  oeati/ig),  is  the  supreme 
 Arbiter.  Now  Karma  simply  means  the  formation  of  character,  which  is, 
 in  fact,  the  power  that  decides  our  future  destiny ;  the  Greeks  have  the 
 same  word,  almost  identical  in  root  formation — I  mean  Kyp,  or  destiny — 
 and  precisely  as  in  the  Buddhist  stories,  which  I  might  read  if  there  were 
 time,  the  divine  S^kra  asserts  that  he  can  do  nothing  against  the  conse- 
 quences of  Karma,  so  the  Greek  Zeus  confesses  he  is  impotent  to  resist 
 Fate  or  Krjp. 
 
 The  two  thoughts  are  identical ;  the  idea  of  Karma,  so  far  from  being 
 only  Indian,  lies  embedded  in  tlie  earliest  stratum  of  human  speculation  ; 
 and,  so  far,  is  worthy  of  our  consideration  in  tracing  the  origin  of  these 
 beliefs. 
 
 Thus  we  may  trace  the  influence  of  Buddhism  in  China  back  to  the 
 original  conception  of  re\vard  and  punishment. 
 
176  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 I  suppose  this  thought  Hes  at  the  root  of  popular  rehgion.  We  need 
 not  try  to  define  the  character  of  the  reward  or  punishment,  but  simply 
 state  that  there  are  consequences  accruing  from  the  practice  of  virtue,  or 
 the  contrary,  which  must  certainly  overtake  us. 
 
 I  pass  on  to  observe  some  facts  connected  with  the  cosmogony  of  the 
 Buddhists,  as  it  has  been  developed  in  China.  The  influence  of  what  is 
 called  the  Lotus  School  has  resulted  in  some  extremely  interesting  specu- 
 lations. The  great  problem  before  the  world  had  been  to  account  for  the 
 origin  of  things.  You  remember,  I  daresay,  the  remarkable  passage  in  the 
 tenth  book  of  the  Rig  Veda  in  which  the  originator  is  spoken  of  as  "  breath- 
 ing,' "  breathless." 
 
 The  search  after  this  first  cause  ended  in  the  symbolism  of  the  Lotus, 
 which  floats  in  its  loveliness  on  tlie  surface  of  the  Lake,  but  comes  from 
 an  unknown  source.  So  the  Lotus  was  used  as  the  emblem  of  what  we 
 should  call  creation.  Whence  come  these  worlds  around  us  ?  who  is  the 
 First  ?  where  His  abode  ?  The  answer  was  :  "  We  cannot  tell ;  the 
 Lotus  floats  upon  the  water — that  Is  all  we  know." 
 
 Now  let  us  trace  the  active  growth  of  this  conception. 
 
 The  first  and  earliest  idea  w-as,  that  all  things  spring  from  water;  hence 
 the  world,  or  the  four  quarters  of  the  world,  are  represented  as  floating  on 
 the  universal  Ocean,  placed  symmetrically. 
 
 In  the  centre  is  the  Divine  Mountain,  the  Olympus  of  the  Greeks,  the 
 Zagros  of  the  Iranians,  the  Meru  of  the  Indians;  around  this  mountain 
 are  the  rock  girdles  which  prevent  approach  by  mortal  man  to  the  abode 
 of  the  gods  ;  beyond  the  outer  girdle  of  rocks,  in  the  salt  sea,  are  the 
 four  quarters  of  the  world,  denoted  by  the  figures  and  the  accompanying 
 islands. 
 
 Here  we  have  the  earliest  thought  of  a  central  inaccessible  mountain, 
 and  the  four  quarters,  or  the  four  winds,  into  which  the  world  is  divided 
 as  it  floats  on  the  sea. 
 
 At  the  base  of  the  central  mountain  are  the  four  guardians,  who  keep 
 the  way  and  guard  the  residence  of  the  gods.  This  idea  is  also  a  primi- 
 tive one,  denoted  in  Homer  by  the  Horse  or  Seasons,  who  keep  the  gates 
 of  Olympus. 
 
 On  the  summit  of  the  Divine  Mountain  are  the  abodes  of  the  gods,  or 
 *the  thirty-three  gods,  over  whom  Sakra  the  Powerful  One  reigns  supreme. 
 These  are  the  0Xvjj.7na  Sw/Aara ;  the  number  thirty-three  is  known  in  the 
 Vedas,  incorporated  therein,  doubtless,  from  the  old  tradition,  which  may 
 be  traced  back  to  the  period  when  Time  or  Chronos  was  the  supreme 
 ruler,  and  when  tlie  year,  the  four  seasons,  and  the  twenty-eight  days  made 
 up  the  thirty-three.  Above  this  Paradise  are  the  three  tiers  of  higher 
 Heavens: — The  Kama  Heavens,  in  which  there  are  earthly  pleasures  ;  the 
 Rupa  Heavens,  in  which  there  are  forms  but  no  earthly  pleasures ;  and 
 the  Arupa  Heavens,  in  which  there  are  neither  Forms  nor  human  concep- 
 tions.   This  was  the  extended  idea  of  the  One  System  of  worlds.     Buddha 
 
nUDDIIISM  IN  CHINA.  177 
 
 taught  in  agreement  with  the  oldest  beliefs  that  all  the  denizens  of  these 
 worlds  are  subject  to  decay  and  death  ;  just  as  Homer  makes  Nectar  a 
 condilicjn  of  prolonged  life  to  the  Gods,  without  which  they  would  perish  ; 
 Buddha,  therefore,  would  have  nought  to  say  about  such  a  Heavenly  State  ; 
 he  sought  after  a  condition  of  lieing  that  never  began  and  never  will  perish, 
 — an  eternal  state  of  existence,  and  he  called  this  Nirvana,  a  non-breathing 
 state,  like  that  of  Him  before  His  breath  went  forth  upon  the  Waters. 
 
 Before  passing  on  to  notice  the  extension  of  this  system  of  worlds,  I  will 
 notice  that  underneath  the  earth,  the  Buddhists,  and  esjjecially  the  Chinese 
 Buddhists,  jjlace  the  various  prisons  in  which  the  wicked  are  confined  for 
 vast,  but  not  endless,  periods  of  time  ;  they  are  called  earth-prisons,  and 
 the  sufferings  endured  in  each  are  supposed  to  be  material.  The  lowest 
 prison  is  a  burning  one,  surroundcil  by  an  iron  wall — it  is  the  Tartarus  of 
 Homer  (cf  f/iiiii,  viii.  15),  with  its  iron  gates  and  brazen  walls,  the  deepest 
 underneath  the  earth.  The  lowest  place  of  jjunishment  is  called  Avichi, 
 which  the  Chinese  translate  "  without  interval  "  ;  there  is  no  cessation  of 
 pain  here,  literally  the  fire  is  not  quenched,  but  yet  there  is  hope  of 
 escape. 
 
 And  now,  under  the  persuasion  of  the  infinity  of  the  Universe,  the  Budd- 
 hists began  to  multiply  their  systems  of  worlds  in  this  way  :  they  supposed 
 a  repetition  of  mountains  and  heavens  extending  through  space,  over 
 which,  however,  there  was  but  one  Buddha  ;  they  then  supposed  these 
 extended  systems  to  be  multiplied  one  over  the  other,  the  whole  springing 
 from  a  I.otu.s,  denoting  their  confessed  ignorance  of  the  Originator;  ad- 
 vancing still,  they  placed  this  complex  system  of  worlds  in  the  centre,  and 
 other  similar  systems  to  the  number  of  ten  surrounding  it.  These  systems 
 were  ruled  over  by  other  Buddhas. 
 
 Advancing  yet,  they  place  ten  such  chiliocosms,  ruled  over  by  different 
 Dhyanf  Buddhas  ;  and  finally,  in  sheer  despair,  they  multiply  these  sys- 
 tems, each  one  so  inconceivably  vast,  indefinitely,  till  they  become  as 
 numerous  as  the  sands  of  countless  Rivers  Ganges. 
 
 Now  the  origin  of  this  cosmogony  was  doubtless,  in  the  first  stages  of 
 it,  inherited  from  primitive  time.  The  surrounding  streams  of  ocean,  the 
 central  mountain  and  the  abode  of  the  Gods— these  are  fables  common  to 
 all  nations  ;  but  the  expansion  of  the  belief  or  system  is  doubtless  Buddhis- 
 tic, and  the  introduction  of  the  Lotus  peculiarly  so.  But  whether  matured 
 in  the  valley  of  the  Ganges,  or  on  the  high  lands  of  Asia  abounding  with 
 lakes,  or  even  in  Egypt,  we  can  hardly  say.  This  much,  however,  appears 
 likely,  that  the  final  stage,  where  the  worlds  and  systems  are  made  as 
 numerous  as  the  Ganges  sands,  was  reached  in  the  dreamy  land  of  Eastern 
 India,  and  thence  carried  to  China,  where  it  now  finds  acceptance,  arid 
 has  led  to  a  similar  state  of  dreamy  philosophical  speculation. 
 
 I  must  hasten  to  point  out  one  more  feature  in  the  Buddhist  develop- 
 ment in  China.  I  mean  the  belief  in  a  Western  Paradise,  with  which  is 
 connected  the  worship  of  Amitdbha  and  Kwan-yin. 
 
 VOL.  I.  N 
 
178  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 The  idea  of  a  place  of  happy  rest  in  the  Western  regions  of  the  world 
 is  an  old  and  well-known  one.  The  sight  of  the  glorious  region  of  the 
 setting  sun,  so  peaceful,  so  lovely,  so  full  of  quiet  hope,  may  have  given 
 birth  to  the  thought.  We  cannot  tell.  But  at  any  rate,  so  early  as  149 
 A.D.,  a  Parthian  prince,  who  would  have  been  probably  Vologases  III.  of 
 Parthia,  if  he  had  not  become  a  Buddhist  monk,  eame  to  China  and  trans- 
 lated the  Siitra  of  boundless  years,  i.e.  of  Amitabha  or  Amitayus.  This 
 gives  us  an  account  of  the  Western  Paradise  ;  it  is  a  place  beautiful  to 
 behold— its  golden  streets  and  lovely  tanks,  the  flowers  and  birds  and 
 palaces,  all  so  exquisite  \  and  the  happy  people  who  dwell  there,  worship- 
 ping tlie  eternal  and  all-glorious  Aniita.  This  was  the  fable  that  excited 
 the  wonder  and  drew  out  the  active  spiritual  powers  of  the  Chinese  con- 
 verts. Let  me  only  give  one  example.  It  is  that  of  a  poor  Chinese 
 I'ilgrim,  whose  brief  history  is  given  us  by  I-Tsing.  His  name  was  Shang- 
 tih. 
 
 The  narrative  is  this  : — '■^  Shang-tih,  a  contemplative  priest,  of  Ping-chau. 
 He  longed  for  the  joys  of  the  Western  Paradise,  and,  with  the  view  of 
 being  born  there,  he  devoted  himself  to  a  life  of  purity  and  religion 
 (reciting  the  tiame  of  Buddha).  He  vowed  to  write  out  tlie  whole  of  the 
 Frajna- Sutra.,  occupying  10,000  chapters.  Desiring  to  worship  the  sacred 
 vestiges,  and  so  by  this  to  secure  for  himself  the  greater  merit,  with  a  view 
 to  a  birth  in  that  heaven,  he  travelled  through  the  nine  provinces  {of  China), 
 desiring  wherever  he  went  to  labour  in  the  conversion  of  men,  and  to  write 
 the  sacred  books.  Coming  to  the  coast,  he  embarked  in  a  ship  for  Kalinga. 
 Thence  he  proceeded  by  sea  to  the  Malaya  country,  and  thence  wishing  to 
 go  to  Mid-India,  he  embarked  in  a  merchant-ship  for  that  purpose.  Being 
 taken  in  a  storm,  the  ship  l)egan  to  founder,  and  the  sailors  and  merchants 
 were  all  struggling  with  one  another  to  get  aboard  a  little  boat  that  was 
 near.  Tlie  captain  of  the  ship  being  a  believer,  and  anxious  to  save  the 
 jiriest,  called  out  to  him  with  a  loud  voice  to  come  aboard  the  boat ;  but 
 Shang-tih  replied,  '  I  will  not  come  ;  save  the  other  people.'  And  so  he 
 remained  silently  absorbed,  as  if  a  brief  term  of  life  were  agreeable  to  one 
 ])ossessed  of  the  heart  of  Bodhi.  Having  refused  all  help,  he  clasped  his 
 liands  in  adoration,  and  looking  towards  the  west,  he  repeated  the  sacred 
 name  of  Amita,  and  when  the  ship  went  down  these  were  his  last  words. 
 He  was  about  fifty  years  of  age.  He  had  a  follower  unknown  to  me,  who 
 also  perished  with  his  master,  also  calling  on  the  name  of  Amita  Buddha." 
 
 We  cannot  doubt  that  this  idea  of  the  Eternal  One  was,  in  the  first  place, 
 borrowed  from  the  boundless  I'ime  of  the  Zoroastrian  belief,  and  became 
 merged  in  the  idea  of  Mithras,  the  glorious  light ;  and  so  the  Amita  of  the 
 Chinese  is  both  the  eternal  and  the  altogether  glorious. 
 
 The  worship  of  Kwan-yin  or  Avalokiteshvara,  the  looking-down  God, 
 the  personification  of  Mercy,  is  equally  common  in  China.  This  Being  is 
 sometimes  rei)resented  as  a  female  with  a  child  on  her  knee  ;  at  other 
 times  as  a  youth   or  a  God.     The  Chinese  everywhere  invoke  her  aid. 
 
BUDDHISM  IN  CHINA.  179 
 
 There  is  a  liturgy,  as  complex  as  any  Western  manual  of  the  same  sort 
 used  for  her  worship  ;  and  the  ritual  itself  is  very  imposing. 
 
 I  presume  this  idea  of  Kwan-yin  was  introduced  into  China  with  that 
 of  Amita  Ihiddha,  and  that  both  were  derived  from  the  Persian.  The 
 worsliip  of  Mithras  and  Anahlta,  the  pure  Goddess  of  the  Waters,  was  a 
 favourite  one  in  the  times  of  Artaxerxes  Mnemon  ;  and,  from  his  patron- 
 age, is  sairj  to  have  extended  from  East  to  West.  The  Buddhists,  owing 
 to  its  pojnilarity,  incorporated  it  in  their  system  ;  and  in  China,  now,  the 
 invocation  of  Amita  and  aspirations  for  mercy  and  protection  at  the  hands 
 of  Kwan-yin  form  the  staple  part  of  the  worship  and  belief  of  the  majority 
 of  the  ])eople. 
 
 All  this  has  created  a  spiritual  activity,  the  origin  of  which  must  first  of 
 all  be  sought  in  the  fundamental  thoughts  of  the  system  itself.  Its  unsel- 
 fishness, its  appeal  to  the  conscience,  its  vast  scope,  its  future  hope,  its 
 belief  in  the  mercy  of  the  Merciful  One,  the  glory  and  eternity  of  the 
 All-Glorious  and  Kternal  One,  and  the  future  rest  in  Paradise. 
 
 These  thoughts  arc  not  Chinese,  they  are  not  Indian.  They  must  be 
 looked  for  in  that  neighbourhood  where  in  the  early  beginning  there  was 
 a  knowledge  of  truth  as  it  came  from  the  Source  of  Truth,  and  which, 
 though  dimmed  by  the  accretions  of  time  and  perverted  by  fond  inventions, 
 still  survived  to  give  some  faint  light  and  hope  to  nations  that  sat  in  dark- 
 ness and  under  the  shadow  of  Death. 
 
ZOROASTRIANISM. 
 
 By  L.  H,  Mills,  D.D. 
 
 It  has  been  a  matter  of  sincere  regret  to  me  that  I  have  been  obhged  to 
 let  two  years  pass  by  without  contributing  anything  to  this  important 
 series  of  lectures. 
 
 The  reason  has  been  an  "  embarrassment  of  wealth  "  in  the  acquisition 
 of  manuscripts  from  the  East.  It  will  be  understood  that  it  consumes 
 much  time  to  go  over  manuscripts  of  the  Zend  Avesta  not  merely  for  the 
 purpose  of  reading  them,  but  to  note  down  every  important  or  trivial 
 variation  in  each  from  the  text  of  its  fellows,  and  this  occupation  has  not 
 only  robbed  me  of  the  pleasure  of  contributing  to  this  series,  but  also 
 delayed  the  appearance  of  my  recently  published  Commentary  on  the 
 Gathas.  Everything  has  to  be  stopped  for  the  collation  of  MSS.,  as  no 
 progress  can  be  made  till  full  light  has  been  obtained  upon  our  texts.  And 
 even  now  I  can  only  jot  down  items  or  heads  for  a  future  kcture. 
 
 The  Avesta,  like  the  Bible,  the  Rig  Veda,  and  other  very  ancient  books, 
 is  a  collection  of  documents  of  widely  different  ages.  The  Gathas,  the 
 Haptanghaiti,  the  other  parts  of  the  Yasna,  the  Vendidad  and  the  Yashts, 
 the  Afrinagan,  etc.,  were  composed  at  different  periods.  But  all  stand 
 differentiated  from  the  Gathas,  which  are  totally  distinct  in  character  from 
 the  rest  of  the  Avesta,  and  from  the  Veda.  They  are  original,  the  plain 
 expression  of  actual  personal  longings,  fears,  hopes,  and  struggles ;  and 
 there  is  no  nature-worship  in  them,  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  worship  of  the 
 Creator  of  nature. 
 
 Zoroaster  (Zarathushtra)  makes  no  intentional  historical  statements.  If 
 he  did,  we  should  doubt  them  ;  but  he  gives  us  what  is  far  surer  than  any 
 assertions,  and  that  is,  the  expression  of  emotions  and  efforts  which  reveal 
 his  individuality.  The  persons  mentioned  in  the  Gathas  are  plainly  actual 
 contemporaneous  men  engaged  in  a  dangerous  politico-religious  struggle. 
 All  is  real,  and  for  that  reason  of  inestimable  value.  A  few  hundred 
 years  later  Zoroaster  is  a  demi-god,  and  all  the  rich  nature-worship  of  the 
 Rig  Veda  appears  or  reappears.  We  have,  therefore,  two  stages  of  the 
 Zoroastrian  religion  which  are  as  distinct  as  Quakerism  is  from  Ultramon- 
 tane Roman  Catholicism.  As  many  different  religions  are  included  in 
 Christianity,  so  there  are  many  in  Zoroastrianism,  and  they  should  be 
 carefully  distinguished.  To  mix  up  the  purity  of  the  Gathas  with  the 
 puerile  ceremonial  of  the  Vendidad  mars  the  effect  of  each.  And  unless 
 writers  write  with  careful  criticism,  the  subject  of  Zoroastrianism  will  be 
 sj)oiled. 
 
 i8o 
 
ZOROASTRIANISM.  i8i 
 
 We  cannot  determine  the  age  of  the  Gathas  any  closer  than  we  can  that 
 of  the  Iliad,  nor  so  closely,  but  this  should  not  disturb  us.  Even  my  dis- 
 tinguished colleague,  Professor  Darmesteter,  and  myself  hold  to  somewhat 
 differing  ages.  He  is  inclined  to  put  them  as  late  as  800  b.c,  while  I  am 
 disposed  to  agree  with  Professor  Roth  of  Tiibingen  in  placing  them  beside 
 the  early  Vedic  hymns,  say  about  1200  to  1500  b.c;  but  it  is  utterly 
 impossible  to  be  certain,  and  to  affect  certainty  in  such  a  case  is  simply  to 
 impose  upon  the  uninformed. 
 
 The  one  essential  point  is  to  distinguish  the  Gathas  from  the  remaining 
 parts  of  the  Avesta  after  we  have  become  sure  that  they  have  an  undefined 
 antiquity  which  is  quite  remote. 
 
 While  the  mass  of  mankind  were  worshipping  imaginary  beings  like  the 
 wife-beating  Jove,  for  instance,  Zoroaster  worshipped  the  purest  and  most 
 philosophical  conceptiorv  of  the  Deity  that  the  world  had  ever  seen.  His 
 name  was  "  the  Wise  One,"  or  "  the  Great  Creator."  We  are  uncertain 
 which  ;  but  a  name  is  of  little  moment,  and  it  means  one  or  the  other  of  the 
 above.  He  has  six  attributes :  "the  Good  Mind,"  which  we  may  call  "Love  " 
 (recall  "  God  is  Love").  The  Righteous  Order,  which  seems  to  be  his  plan 
 of  grace,  the  idea  being  given  by  the  sacred  order  of  the  ritual,  but  in  the 
 Gatha  this  attribute  is  clearly  a  regulation  for  grace,  so  that  the  human 
 being  who  becomes  filled  with  Asha  is  holy  in  thought,  word,  and  deed, 
 not  only  exact  in  ritual,  but  high  in  the  moral  virtues.  Then  Khshathra  is 
 tlie  Divine  power,  giving  efficacy  to  both  the  "  Love  "  and  the  "  Grace." 
 Then  Aramaiti,  literally  "the  ready  mind,"  "practical  piety,"  is  an 
 attribute  of  the  Deity  chiefly  because  He  inspires  the  saints  with  it.  It 
 seems  to  represent  the  actual  effect  of  the  Love,  Grace,  and  Power  of 
 God  on  the  mind  of  the  believer  in  his  obedience  and  faith  ;  that  is,  it 
 represents  a  receptivity.  The  last  two  attributes  are  still  more  concrete, 
 for  they  are  God's  gifts  as  a  reward.  Haurvatat,  health  of  mind  and  body, 
 that  is,  weal  or  happiness,  and  then  the  perpetuation  of  this  in  a  deathless 
 life,  immortality  begun  by  a  long  life  on  earth,  but  perpetuated  in  a 
 heaven  of  good  thoughts,  words,  and  deeds. 
 
 But  there  was  one  great  difference  between  this  theology  and  all  others. 
 Very  many  religions  had  and  have  plenty  of  devils  to  account  for  the  ills 
 of  life  ;  but  Zoroastrianism  alone  at  that  time,  so  far  as  we  are  aware, 
 actually  formulated  the  idea  that  there  was  one  original  evil  spirit.  That 
 is  to  say,  it  held  that  "  death  and  all  our  woe  "  were  inherent  in  the  nature 
 of  things.  In  the  later  Avesta,  Angra  Mainyu  became  the  prototype  of 
 our  Scriptural  Satan,  and  largely  assisted  in  conveying  to  us  the  descrip- 
 tions which  we  have  in  the  Old  and  the  New  Testaments ;  but  in  the  earlier 
 Avesta,  the  Gathas,  he  is  one  of  "  the  two  original  spirits  who  came  toge- 
 ther to  create  life  and  life's  absence." 
 
 In  other  words,  we  have  what  seems  an  actual  theological  dualism.  Two 
 spirits — one  a  God  creating  all  that  is  good,  and  the  other  an  evil  Being 
 creating  all  evil.     This  can  only  be  accounted  for  on  the  supposition  that 
 
i82  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS    OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  authors  of  the  conception  found  the  problem  of  the  origin  of  evil  too 
 formidable  to  be  settled  by  the  supposition  that  there  are  a  multitude  of 
 subordinate  evil  powers  who  superficially  disturb  our  happiness.  Those 
 early  philosophic  minds  reached  a  conclusion  very  similar  to  that  reached 
 by  some  modern  doctrinaires,  viz.  that  God  Himself  could  not  have  ob- 
 viated the  troubles  that  befall  us ;  that  there  could  be  no  good  without  them, 
 and,  strange  to  say,  this  remotely  ancient  conception  seems  to  have  given 
 the  hint  which  developed  the  philosophy  of  contrast,  as  I  would  call  it. 
 
 The  thirtieth  chapter  of  the  Yasna  suggested  the  dualism  of  the 
 Gnostics,  as  illustrated  by  light  and  darkness,  and  this  appeared  again  in 
 Jakob  Boehme,  till  Schelling,  Fichte,  and  Hegel  took  up  the  idea,  the 
 latter  vehemently  declaring  that  the  contrasted  elements  seen  in  every- 
 thing were  each  one  essential  to  their  opposite,  so  as  to  make  part  of  it. 
 Sorrow  is  therefore,  according  to  these  writers,  absolutely  essential  to  the 
 phenomena  of  happiness  to  define  them  by  limitation.  There  can  be  no 
 actual  apprehension  of  any  advantageous  elements  in  our  experience  with- 
 out the  co-ordinate  apprehension  of  misery  ;  and  this  great  doctrine  (which 
 should  contain  excessive  comfort  for  all  of  us)  Iiad  its  initiative  in  the  re- 
 motely ancient  Gatha.^  But  I  must  curtail.  I  will  only  add  that  the 
 ancient  Avesta  is  the  richest  book  of  antiquity  in  the  suggestion  of  deep 
 and  religious  thoughts.  Every  chapter  of  the  Gathas  requires  chapters  of 
 exposition ;  and  if  life  and  strength  are  spared,  I  hope  to  make  them  the 
 texts  for  more  practical  exposition.  The  700  pages  which  I  have  published 
 on  the  Avesta,  and  the  1,000  which  I  have  written  on  it  are  not  at  all 
 sufficient  to  say  all  that  can  be  said.  I  hurriedly  sum  up  points.  God,  in 
 the  Gathas,  is  the  Creator  of  all  the  holier  elements  of  the  creation,  and  of 
 all  things  save  the  element  of  moral  and  physical  evil.  The  pious  Zoroas- 
 trian,  after  a  life  of  honourable  toil,  goes  to  an  immortality  of  blessed- 
 ness in  thought,  word,  and  deed.  His  Heaven  is  holiness  itself,  that  is, 
 chiefly  so.  If  not  pious,  he  falls  to  Hell  in  passing  over  the  Judge's  bridge, 
 which  leads  from  Mount  Alborj  to  Heaven,  and  this  Hell  consists  of  evil 
 thoughts,  words,  and  deeds,  as  well  as  of  physical  torment.  His  body 
 rises  (in  the  later  Avesta),  and  he  dwells  on  a  rejuvenated  earth.  As  the 
 agent  in  this  restoration,  a  Saviour  is  to  arise.  He  is  to  be  born  of  the 
 seed  of  Zoroaster,  and  of  a  Virgin  who  conceives  in  a  lake  impregnated 
 with  his  semen  (later  Avesta).  The  Jews  came  into  contact  with  the 
 Persian  religion  as  we  see  from  the  Bible  and  its  extravagant  expressions 
 with  reference  to  Cyrus,  the  Lord's  "anointed."  That  the  Zoroastrian  re- 
 ligion influenced  the  Jewish,  goes  without  saying.  The  entire  orthodox 
 Pharisaism,  together  with  its  name,  niight  be  considered  one  mass  of 
 Zoroastrianism  ;  for  when  Persian  kings  are  so  prominently  mentioned  in 
 the  Bible,  the  best  explanation  for  the  word   Pharisee  is   the  word  Farsi, 
 
 •  These  remarks  are  not  iniide  at  liapliazanl,  as  I  have  studied  the  Kantian  philosophy 
 with  its  predecessors  and  follow eis laboriously.  See  tlie  Introduction  to  my  Commentary, 
 page  21. 
 
Z0R0AST1UANIS.\T.  183 
 
 which  is  but  another  sound  for  Parsi  ;  but  I  will  say  no  more.  I  close  my 
 liour's  work  by  once  more  insisting  on  the  clear  distinction  between  the 
 different  books  of  the  Avesta,  above  all,  between  the  Gathas  and  the  rest ; 
 for  while  the  earlier  Avesta  is  one  of  the  sublimest  works  which  have  sur- 
 vived to  us,  the  later  Avesta  contains  some  of  the  most  ridiculous  pueri- 
 lities, and  the  later  Zoroastrianism,  outside  both  the  Old  and  the  New 
 Avesta,  has  about  as  much  relative  authority  as  the  "  lives  of  the  Catholic 
 saints." 
 
 If  we  wish  to  learn  the  truth  about  the  Avesta,  we  should  listen  to  no 
 one  who  is  not  competent  to  separate  Zoroastrianism  into  its  parts. 
 
THE    PARSI    RELIGION. 
 
 By  Dadabhai  Naoroji. 
 
 I  DO  not  wish  in  this  paper  to  enter  upon  controversial  reh'gious  matters, 
 but  rather  to  place  before  the  British  public  a  picture  of  the  present  actual 
 religious  life  of  the  Parsis,  so  that  an  idea  may  be  obtained  of  that  religious 
 life  and  of  its  development. 
 
 It  is  generally  believed  that  their  prophet,  Zoroaster,  flourished  some 
 four  thousand  years  ago ;  but  that  belief  was  much  disputed,  and  I  prefer 
 to  treat  of  matters  less  open  to  doubt.  During  the  Greek  rule,  after  the 
 conquest  of  Persia  by  Alexander,  the  national  religion  did  not  occupy  its 
 predominant  position,  but  when  the  Persian  dynasty  was  re-established  by 
 Ardeshir  Babezan,  a  great  council  of  the  learned  priests  was  called  and  the 
 religion  was  re-established  and  proclaimed  as  the  national  religion. 
 
 When  the  ancient  rule  of  the  Persian  in  his  own  land  was  at  length  over- 
 thrown by  the  Mahommadan,  the  nation  as  a  whole  became  gradually 
 Mahommadan.  But  a  few  of  the  Parsis  emigrated  to  India,  where  they 
 were  allowed  to  land  only  on  condition,  as  tradition  goes,  of  laying  down 
 their  arms,  changing  their  kind  of  dress,  and  abstaining  from  killing  the 
 cow.  Here,  mingling  with  a  different  race  of  people,  with  a  different 
 religion,  they  forgot  their  own  language,  very  nearly  losing  at  the  same 
 time  the  knowledge  of  their  old  religious  books.  But  one  thing  they  did 
 carefully.  They  took  good  care  of  the  (ew  religious  books  they  had 
 brought  with  them,  and  to  a  large  extent  the  head  priests  preserved  the 
 understanding  of  them  as  they  were  taught  from  father  to  son,  though 
 without  any  critical  knowledge  or  any  right  appreciation  of  the  value  of 
 each. 
 
 Gradually,  by  intermarriage  and  otherwise,  they  mixed  with  the  Hindus 
 to  such  an  extent  that  they  became  almost  assimilated  with  them — "  almost 
 as  Hindu  as  the  Hindus  themselves,"  making  even  offerings  at  the  Hindu 
 temples  for  several  objects. 
 
 When  I  was  prime  minister  of  Baroda,  a  Parsi  lady  appeared  before  me 
 on  some  appeal.  I  should  never  have  considered  her  a  Parsi,  had  not  my 
 attention  been  expressly  called  to  the  fact,  she  was  so  completely  Plindu 
 in  her  accent,  in  her  ideas,  and  dress.  The  ladies  of  the  house,  and  the 
 constant  and  intimate  contact  with  Hindu  neighbours,  made  customary  in 
 Parsi  houses  most  of  the  Hindu  ceremonies,  which  are  observed  in  cases 
 of  birth,  marriage,  etc.,  and  on  holidays. 
 
 Then  came  the    Mahommadan  on  the  scene,   when   the  Parsis,  ever 
 
 pliable,  adopted  some  Mahommadan  customs,  and  even  carried  offerings 
 
 184 
 
THE   PARS  J   RELIGION.  185 
 
 to  the  shrines  of  some  famous  Mahommadan  saints.  They  now  knew 
 little  of  their  original  religion  ;  but  two  of  its  teachings  they  never  forgot— 
 viz.,  that  there  was  only  one  God,  and  that  man  should  marry  but  one 
 wife.  It  is  true  they  continued  to  repeat  prayers  in  the  old  Zend  language, 
 but  they  did  not  understand  one  word  of  them.  With  the  exception  of  a 
 few  priests,  no  one  knew  anything  of  that  language,  or  of  the  doctrines 
 inculcated  in  their  scriptures.  Their  lives  were  largely  taken  up  with  their 
 own  and  Hindu  ceremonials,  they  had  a  general  vague  knowledge  of  the 
 doctrines  and  precepts  of  the  religion,  and  a  clear  notion  of  its  morality, 
 so  far  that  it  reciuired  pure  thouglit,  pure  word,  and  pure  deed.  Such  was 
 the  condition  of  the  Parsis  at  the  beginning  of  the  present  century. 
 
 The  English  rule  in  India  gave  the  Parsis  greater  freedom  and  scope 
 for  their  energy.  They  were  the  first  to  start  vernacular  literature  and 
 newspapers  on  the  Bombay  side — and  a  considerable  impetus  to  the 
 development  of  these  papers,  and  at  the  same  time  towards  giving  greater 
 attention  to  the  study  of  their  religion,  was  afforded  by  a  comparatively 
 trivial  controversy  about  the  calendar.  A  learned  priest  from  Persia  found, 
 on  his  arrival  in  India,  that  the  Persian  and  Indian  Parsi  calendars  did 
 not  correspond.  The  Parsis  in  India  had  added  one  month  to  the  year 
 every  hundred  and  twenty  years,  to  make  up  the  solar  or  leap  year.  This, 
 said  the  Persian  priest,  was  wrong,  as  there  was,  he  alleged,  no  sanction 
 for  it  in  the  ancient  religious  books.  A  bitter  controversy  arose,  members 
 of  families  (juarrelled,  and  finally  the  community  was  split  up  into  two 
 sects.  Troublesome,  as  this  incident  proved,  it  had  good  results  attending 
 it.  For  it  was  the  means  of  rousing  among  the  Parsis  a  desire  to  know 
 more  of  their  religion,  the  result  being  a  greater  activity  of  mind  and  a 
 great  deepening  of  religious  feeling.  The  development  and  the  firmer 
 establishment  of  the  Press  produced  their  reflex  influence  in  helping 
 rapid  progress. 
 
 Next  came  the  Christian  missionaries,  who  began  to  attack  the  Parsi 
 religion  ;  and  it  was  then  open  to  attack  from  the  double  circumstances  of 
 the  deterioration  of  the  original  pure  ancient  faith  by  the  later  priest-made 
 literature  and  ceremonial,  and  of  the  adoption  of  Hindu  and  Mahommadan 
 ceremonies.  The  Christian  Catholic  Church,  in  the  suburbs  of  Bombay, 
 had  also  come  into  by  no  means  unfriendly  contact  with  the  Parsis,  but 
 the  missionaries  carried  on  their  attack  with  much  vigour,  and  succeeded 
 in  converting  two  Parsi  youths,  who  were  attending  their  school.  This 
 produced  great  excitement  among  the  Parsis,  and  they  commenced 
 vigorous  efforts  to  check  further  conversions.  Some  magazines  were 
 started,  to  defend  the  Parsi  religion  and  to  attack  and  criticise  Christianity. 
 But  more  than  that,  they  felt  and  were  awakened  to  the  necessity  of 
 teaching  their  children  their  religion  more  intelligently  than  by  merely 
 making  them  learn  by  heart  some  of  the  prayers  and  parts  in  the  old  Zend 
 language,  without  understanding  anything  of  it.  The  agitation  of  the 
 missionaries  led  to  the  preparation  of  a  catechism  of  the  Parsi  religion,  as 
 
iS6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 it  was  then  believed  to  be,  some  extracts  from  which  will  be  made,  in  order 
 to  give  a  fair  idea  of  their  theology  and  morals  as  then  understood.  The 
 subject  of  the  dialogue  is  thus  described  :^ 
 
 "  A  {Q.fi  Questions  and  Answers  to  acquaint  the  Children  of  the  Holy 
 Zarthosti  Community  with  the  subject  of  the  Mazdiashna  Religion  {i.e. 
 of  the  Worship  of  God).  Dialogue  between  a  Zarthosti  Master  and 
 Pupil." 
 
 Ques.     Whom  do  we,  of  the  Zarthosti  community,  believe  in  ? 
 
 Alts.     We  believe  in  only  one  God,  and  do  not  believe  in  any  besides  Him. 
 
 Ques.      Who  is  that  one  God  ? 
 
 Alls.  The  God  who  created  the  heavens,  the  earth,  the  angels,  the  stars,  the  sun,  the 
 moon,  the  fire,  the  water,  or  all  the  four  elements,  and  all  things  of  the  two  worlds  ;  that 
 God  we  believe  in — Him  we  worship,  Him  we  invoke,  and  Him  we  adore. 
 
 Ques.     Do  we  not  believe  in  any  other  God  ? 
 
 Ans.  Whoever  believes  in  any  other  God  but  this  is  an  infidel,  and  shall  suffer  the 
 punishment  of  hell. 
 
 Ques.     What  is  the  form  of  our  God  ? 
 
 Atis.  Our  God  has  neither  face  nor  form,  colour  nor  shape,  nor  fixed  place.  There 
 is  no  other  like  Him  ;  He  is  Himself  singly  such  a  glory  that  we  cannot  praise  or  describe 
 Him  ;  nor  our  mind  comprehend  Him. 
 
 Ques.      Is  there  any  such  thing  that  God  even  cannot  create  ? 
 
 Ans.     Yes  ;  there  is  one  thing,  which  God  Himself  even  cannot  create. 
 
 Ques.     What  that  thing  is,  must  be  explained  to  me. 
 
 Ans.  God  is  the  creator  of  all  things  ;  but  if  He  wish  to  create  another  like  Himself, 
 He  cannot  do  it.     God  cannot  create  another  like  Himself. 
 
 Ques.     How  many  names  are  there  for  God  ? 
 
 Ans.  It  is  said  there  are  one  thousand  and  one  names  ;  but  of  these  one  hundred  and 
 one  are  extant. 
 
 Ques.     Why  are  there  so  many  names  of  God  ? 
 
 Ans.  God's  names,  expressive  of  His  nature,  are  two — "  Yazdan  "  (omnipotence), 
 and  "  Pauk  "  (holy).  He  is  also  named  "  Hormuzd  "  (the  highest  of  spirits),  "  Dadar  " 
 (the  distributor  of  justice),  "  Purvurdegar "  (provider),  "  Purvurtar "  (protector),  by 
 which  names  we  praise  Him.  There  are  many  other  names  also,  descriptive  of  ilis  good 
 doings. 
 
 Ques.     What  is  our  religion  ? 
 
 Ans.     Our  religion  is  "  Worship  of  God." 
 
 Ques.     W^hence  did  we  receive  our  religion  ? 
 
 Ans.  God's  true  prophet — the  true  Zurthost  (Zoroaster)  Asphantaman  Anoshirwan — 
 brought  the  religion  for  us  from  God. 
 
 Ques.      Where  should  I  turn  my  face  when  worshipping  the  holy  Hormuzd  ? 
 
 Ans.  We  should  worship  the  holy,  just  Hormuzd,  with  our  face  towards  some  of  His 
 creations  of  light,  and  glory,  and  brightness. 
 
 Ques.     Which  are  those  things  ? 
 
 Ans.  Such  as  the  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  the  fire,  water,  and  other  such  things  of 
 glory.  To  such  things  we  turn  our  face,  and  consider  them  our  "  kibleh  "  (literally,  the 
 thing  opposite),  because  God  has  bestowed  u]:)on  them  a  small  spark  of  His  pure  glory, 
 and  they  are,  therefore,  more  exalted  in  the  creation,  and  fit  to  be  our  "kibleh  "  (repre- 
 senting this  power  and  glory). 
 
 Ques.     What  religion  prevailed  in  Persia  before  the  time  of  Zurthost  ? 
 
 Ans.  The  kings  and  the  people  were  worshippers  o*'  God,  but  they  had,  like  the 
 Hindus,  images  oi^  the  planets  and  idols  in  their  temples. 
 
 Ques.     What  commands  has  God  sent  us  through  his  prophet,  the  exalted  Zurthost? 
 
 Ans.  Many  are  th(;se  commands,  but  I  give  you  the  principal,  which  must  always  be 
 remembered,  and  by  which  we  must  guide  ourselves  :  — 
 
 To  know  God  as  one  ;  to  know  the  prophet,  the  exalted  Zurthost,  as  His  true  prophet  ; 
 to  believe  the  religion,  and  the  Avesta  brought  by  him,  as  true  beyond  all  manner  of 
 doubt  ;  to  believe  in  the  goodness  of  God  ;  not  to  disobey  any  of  the  commands  of  the 
 Mazdiashna  religion  ;  to  avoid  evil  deeds  ;  to  exert  for  good  deeds  ;  to  jiray  five  times  in 
 the  day  ;  to  believe  in  the  reckoning  and  justice  on  the  fourth  morning  after  death  ;  to 
 hope  for  heaven  and  to  fear  hell  ;  to  consider  doubtless  the  day  of  general  destruction 
 and   purification   (of  all  suffering  souls)  ;  to  remember  always  that  God  has  done  what 
 
THE   /'A  RSI  RELIGION.  187 
 
 lie  willed,  and  bhall  do  what  He  wills  ;  to  face  some  lumiiiou-  o'licct  wMIc  wur-Mpping 
 
 QtKS.     If  wc  commit  any  sin,  will  our  prophet  save  us  ? 
 
 Ahs.  Never  commit  any  sin,  uiulcr  that  faith,  because  our  prophet,  our  guide  to  the 
 ri(iht  path,  iias  ilisliiietly  commanded  "you  sliall  receive  according  to  what  you  do. " 
 Vour  deeds  will  determine  ycjur  return  in  the  other  world.  If  you  do  virtuous  and  pious 
 actions,  your  reward  shall  he  heaven.  If  you  sin  and  do  wlcketl  things,  you  shall  be 
 punished  in  hell.  There  is  none  save  Go<l  that  could  save  y<ju  from  the  consequences  of 
 your  sins.  If  anyone  commit  a  sin  under  the  belief  that  he  shall  be  saved  by  someb<xly, 
 both  the  deceiver  as  well  as  the  deceived  shall  be  damned  to  the  day  of  ''  Rasta  Khci  " 
 (the  day  of  the  eml  of  this  world).     . 
 
 Ques.     What  are  those  things  by  which  man  is  blessed  and  benefited  ? 
 
 Ans.  To  do  virtuous  deeds,  t<i  give  in  charity,  to  be  kiml,  to  be  huml)le,  to  speak 
 sweet  words,  to  wish  good  to  others,  to  have  a  clear  heart,  to  acquire  learning,  to  speak 
 the  truth,  to  suppress  anger,  to  be  patient  and  contented,  to  he  friendly,  to  feel  shame, 
 to  pay  due  resi)ect  to  the  old  and  young,  to  be  j)ious,  to  respect  our  parents  and  teachers. 
 All  these  are  the  friends  of  the  good  men  antl  enemies  of  the  bad  men. 
 
 Qn€s.     What  are  those  things  l)y  which  man  is  lost  and  degraded  ? 
 
 Atis.  To  tell  untruths,  to  steal,  to  gamble,  to  look  with  wicked  eye  upon  a  woman, 
 to  commit  treachery,  to  abuse,  to  be  angry,  to  wish  ill  to  another,  to  l>e  proud,  to  mock, 
 to  be  iille,  to  slander,  to  be  avaricious,  to  be  disrespectful,  to  be  shameless,  to  be  hot- 
 tempered,  to  take  what  is  another's  property,  to  be  revengeful,  unclean,  obstinate, 
 envious,  to  do  harm  to  any  man,  to  be  superstitious,  and  do  any  other  wicked  anil 
 iniquitous  action.  These  are  all  the  friends  of  the  wicked,  and  the  enemies  of  the 
 virtuous. 
 
 Such  wns  ihc  first  elTurl  made  by  the  Parsis  to  give  religious  education 
 to  their  children. 
 
 The  old  sacred  books  had  also  been  translated  before  this  time  into  the 
 vernacular  (lujarati  language.  But  the  translation  was  purely  literal  and 
 baldly  mechanical,  carried  out  without  any  critical  intelligence,  and  with 
 a  very  unintelligible  result.  Now  came  a  new  force  into  i)lay.  In  1S49, 
 I,  with  other  young  men,  full  of  enthusiasm  and  fresh  from  college, 
 established  girls' schools,  under  the  auspices  of  the  "  Students'  Literary 
 and  Scientific  Society."  Full  of  enthusiasm,  but  with  empty  pockets,  wt 
 had  first  to  begin  this  work  as  volunteer  teachers  during  morning  and 
 evening  hours,  having  to  contend  not  a  little  against  the  opposition  of  the 
 majority  of  the  people.  But  we  i)ersevered,  and  fortunately  four  gentle- 
 men of  the  riclier  class,  of  advanced  views,  came  to  our  aid,  and  the 
 schools  acquired  a  firm  footing  anil  became  regular  day  schools. 
 
 About  the  same  time  we  also  established  "The  Dnianprasarak  Mandlis" 
 (Societies  for  the  Diffusion  of  Knowledge),  as  branches  of  "The  Students' 
 Society."  These  branches,  by  their  lectures  and  essays  in  the  vernacular, 
 hel[)ed  the  general  advance  in  social  and  educational  matters,  both  among 
 Hindus  and  Parsis. 
 
 Another  advance  was  the  further  extension  of  journalistic  activity.  In 
 1 85 1  I  started  a  weekly  paper — "  The  Rast  Goftar,"  which  I  think  and 
 hope  gave  a  higher  tone  and  increased  usefulness  to  journalism  among  the 
 Parsis. 
 
 In  1S51  was  started  a  society,  of  which  I  was  chosen  the  first  secretary, 
 called  the  "  Rahanumai  Mazdiashna  "  (Guide  to  the  Worshippers  of  one 
 God).'  The  object  of  this  society  was,  first,  to  do  away  with  the  Hindu 
 and  Mahommadan  ceremonies  which  had  become  incorporated  with  their 
 
1 88  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 religious  life  ;  and,  next,  to  make  a  thorough,  critical  investigation  of  the 
 original  ancient  faith,  and  to  clear  it  of  all  the  grosser  growths  of  sub- 
 sequent times.  This  society  had  to  encounter  no  little  opposition.  An 
 antagonistic  society  was  formed,  but  it  soon  broke  down  before  the  force 
 of  truth  and  intelligence.  But  the  still  more  difficult  opposition  it  had  to 
 encounter,  with  reference  to  the  abolition  of  the  extraneous  Hindu  and 
 Mahommadan  ceremonies,  was  from  the  mothers,  wives,  and  sisters, — the 
 home  rulers  of  the  family.  Where  the  men  failed  the  girls'  schools  suc- 
 ceeded, as  was  only  to  be  expected.  In  these  schools  the  girls  learned 
 that  such  and  such  things  were  simply  prejudice  or  superstition.  They 
 raised  the  rebellion,  in  their  own  innocent  and  childlike  emphatic  ways, 
 against  this  or  that  custom.  "  No,  ma,"  shrugging  their  little  shoulders, 
 said  they,  "this  is  not  our  religion,  this  is  not  right,  this  is  superstition,  etc.  ; 
 no,  ma,  I  won't  do  this."  The  mother  listened  to  the  dear  little  child 
 when  she  did  not  listen  to  the  husband  or  brother. 
 
 Near  two  generations  have  arisen  since  then.  The  children  have  grown 
 up,  and  are  now  mothers  themselves.  They  are  completing  the  reforms 
 which  we  young  enthusiasts  inaugurated,  and  for  a  time  had  been  baffled 
 in. 
 
 About  the  time  when  these  movements  were  going  on,  in  1852  or  1853, 
 another  step  was  taken  in  the  social  reform  among  the  Parsis  in  the 
 position  of  woman. 
 
 Woman  was  always  held  in  great  honour  among  the  Parsis;  and  the  only 
 difference  between  the  status  of  man  and  woman  then  was  that  the  latter 
 was  not  allowed  to  freely  associate  with  men  at  the  social  table  of  other 
 men  or  in  public  assemblies.  The  Parsis  accorded  woman  an  honourable 
 place  in  society,  and  placed  her  on  an  equality  with  man.  Some  of  the  Parsi 
 heads  of  families — myself  included — arranged  to  meet  together  socially 
 with  all  the  members  of  their  families  with  them,  to  dine  together  at  the 
 same  table  and  freely  converse  with  each  other.  The  result,  after  some 
 strong  opposition,  was  the  removal  of  this  female  disability.  One  of  the 
 reasons  why  tliis  reform  took  place  was  that  the  teaching  of  Zoroaster  were 
 distinctly  in  favour  of  the  equality  of  man  and  woman.  In  the  words  of 
 Zoroaster  himself: — "  O  ye  brides  and  bridegrooms,  husbands  and  wives, 
 I  say  to  you  these  words  :  Live  with  one  mind ;  do  together  all  your  re- 
 ligious duties  with  purity  of  thought ;  live  towards  each  other  with  truth, 
 and  by  these  [things]  with  certainty  you  shall  be  happy."  This  was  uttered 
 perhaps  four  thousand  years  ago.  Throughout  the  religious  books,  man 
 and  woman  have  been  spoken  of  as  humanly  and  spiritually  equal. 
 
 Sir  John  Malcolm  says  : — 
 
 "There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  manners  of  the  ancient  inhabitants  of  Persia 
 were  softened  and  in  some  degree  refined  by  a  spirit  of  chivalry  which  pervaded  through- 
 out the  country,  from  the  commencement  to  the  end  of  the  Kayanian  dynasty.  The 
 great  respect  in  which  the  female  sex  was  held  was  no  doubt  the  principal  cause  of  the 
 progress  they  had  made  in  civilization  ;  these  were  at  once  the  cause  of  generous  enter- 
 prise and  its  reward.       It  would  appear  tiiat  in  former  days  the  women  of  Persia  had  an 
 
THE   PARS/  RELIGION.  189 
 
 as>i^ii'(l  ami  an  honourable  place  m  srn  aiy,  and  we  must  conclu<le  tliat  an  equal  rank 
 witli  ill'-  male  creation  which  is  secured  to  them  by  the  ordinance  of  Zoroaster  extsletl  long 
 before  the  lime  of  that  reformer." 
 
 Though  the  Parsis  have  been  living  for  centuries  among  Mahommadans 
 and  Hindus,  they  did  not  take  to  the  institution  of  polygamy.  For  some 
 time  it  was  a  question  whether  I'arsis'  social  relations  were  to  be  judged 
 by  the  Hindu  or  English  law,  as  there  was  no  recognised  Parsi  law  for 
 them,  willj  this  exception,  that  the  Panchayat  (a  Council  of  the  Elders) 
 controlled  and  decided  social  questions.  As  education  advanced,  and  the 
 old  views  and  control  of  the  ciders  began  to  be  opposed,  some  persons 
 took  advantage  to  indulge  themselves  in  marrying  second  wives,  casting 
 aside  the  first  ones.  The  whole  community — old  and  young— rose  against 
 this,  to  them,  al)ominable  innovation.  An  association  was  at  once  formed, 
 a  law  was  drafted,  and  the  Legislature  (the  Viceroy's  Legislative  Council), 
 after  several  incjuiriesby  a  Commission  and  otherwise,  passed  a  law  making 
 polygamy  among  the  Parsis  as  penal  as  among  Englishmen.  I  myself  asked 
 Professor  Spiegel  to  point  out  any  texts  in  the  religious  literature  of  the 
 Parsis  for  or  against  polygamy.  He  replied  :  "  As  far  as  my  knowledge  goes 
 there  is  no  instance  of  polygamy  in  tlie  religious  literature  of  the  Parsis. 
 It  is  said  that  Zerduslit  had  three  wives,  but  he  had  them  successively.  I 
 share  with  you  the  conviction  that  the  majority  of  the  Parsis  were  at  all 
 times  monogamists ;  although  perhaps  indulgences  have  been  granted  to 
 kings  and  other  individuals  of  high  station."  On  further  inquir)-,  he  says 
 that  there  is  not  a  single  text  of  the  Avesta  or  the  later  Parsis  which 
 alluded  to  polygamy,  and  that  the  indulgences  he  referred  to  were  upon 
 Greek  and  Latin  authority. 
 
 This  association  was  also  naturally  drawn  to  the  question  of  the  custom 
 of  early  infant  betrothals,  taken  frotii  the  Hindus.  The  older  Conservative 
 party  were  unwilling  for  several  reasons  to  give  way  ;  and  a  sort  of  com- 
 promise was  come  to  between  the  Conservatives  and  the  young  Reformers, 
 so  as  to  leave  the  question  so  open  as  to  die  a  natural  and  gradual  death, 
 with  the  advance  of  education.  Now  very  few  such  marriages  take  place, 
 and  the  practice  is  fast  dying  away.  What  was  forty  years  ago  general  is 
 now  rare  and  exceptional,  especially  in  Bombay.  The  law  is  so  framed 
 and  left  open,  that  the  first  case  of  repudiation  coming  before  law,  at 
 the  time  of  the  arrival  at  the  proper  age,  will  give  the  last  legal  deathblow 
 to  this  custom  of  infant  betrothals.  Reverting  to  the  religious  beliefs  and 
 morals  of  the  Parsis  of  that  time,  I  will  give  a  few  extracts  from  the  verna- 
 cular translation  of  one  of  the  books,  so  far  as  to  give  a  fair  idea  of  the 
 belief  as  it  was  then  entertained,  while  the  extraneous  ceremonies  were 
 dying  oft"  under  the  efforts  of  the  Rahanumai. 
 
 I  now  arrange  some  of  these  extracts  under  difTerent  heads,  as  inferences  derived  from 
 them.  To  avoid  repetition,  I  shall  not,  under  each  head,  give  ail  the  texts  corroborative 
 of  it. 
 
 The  Tarsis  believe  in  only  one  God,  the  creator  of  all. 
 
 "  1st  Ha. — The  great  judge  Horniutd,  of  glory  and  brightness,  the  highest,  the  all- 
 
I90  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 virtuous,  the  greatest,  strictest,  the  all-wise,  of  the  purest  nature,  the  holiest,  lover  of 
 glailness  — invisible  to  the  visible,  the  increaser — He  created  our  soul — He  moulded  our 
 
 Ixxly He  gave  us  existence.     Ha  35. — I  worship  thee,  O  Hormuzd,  above  all  others,  I 
 
 invoke  thee  above  all  others.  Ha  36. — All  virtuous  thoughts,  all  virtuous  words,  and  all 
 virtuous  works  flow  from  thee.  O  Horniuzd,  I  invoke  thy  pure  nature  above  all  others. 
 Ha  40. — Hy  my  deeds  may  I  exalt  and  honour  thy  name.  Under  the  protection  of  thy 
 great  wisdom  have  I  acquired  wisdom.  May  I  reach  thee.  May  I  always  be  firm  in 
 thy  friendship  and  in  lu^ly  deeds." 
 
 In  Ha  44  several  extracts  relate  to  this  subject,  especially  God  as  the  creator  of  all, 
 ending  in  "Thou  art  the  Creator  of  all  Creation." 
 
 In  a  prayer  to  Hormuzd  (Hormuzd  Vasht)  occurs  this—"  My  name  is  the  Creator  of 
 
 all." 
 
 Zurthost  worships  God  not  only  in  this  world,  but  in  the  heavens  also. — Ha  34,  "  O 
 Hormuzd,  I  worship  thee,  and  in  the  heavens,  also,  shall  I  worship  thee  much." 
 
 Tlic  Parsis  l)elieve  in  the  existence  of  angels,  created  by  God,  with  powers  to  aid  and 
 benetit  mankind  in  various  ways,  and  to  be  the  superinteuiiing  spirits  ol  the  various  j^arts 
 of  creation.  The  chief  among  these  are  the  angels  of  good  conscience  (Bahaman)  and  of 
 high  piety  (Ardebesht)  ;  the  former  is  also  the  protecting  angel  of  the  harmless  animals, 
 and  the  latter  the  angel  of  fire. 
 
 "  1st  Ha. — I  invoke  gootl  conscience,  high  piety,  love  of  excellence,  high  and  perfect 
 thought,  Khordad  and  Amardad  ;  all  other  angels  that  reach  us  ;  the  angel  '  iMeher,'  the 
 lord  and  guardian  of  the  forest,  of  thousand  ears  and  ten  thousand  eyes  of  gladness  and 
 of  comfort. " 
 
 Many  other  extracts  can  be  made  to  deduce  the  above  inference. 
 
 The  various  parts  of  creation  are  praised,  or  remembered,  or  considered  holy,  etc. 
 
 The  first  seven  Has  contain  many  texts  illustrative  of  this. 
 
 "  The  fire  created  by  God,  the  time  of  day,  the  early  dawn,  the  waters  created  by  God, 
 the  year  that  is  spent  in  holiness,  the  moon  and  the  glorious  sun,  the  ocean  of  liglit,  the 
 stars,  the  immeasurable  liglit,  the  mountains  and  the  trees,  the  forest,  the  sheep,  and 
 the  harmless  animals  "  ;  in  short,  Nature,  in  her  various  parts  and  phenomena,  is  some- 
 times praised,  sometimes  remembered,  sometimes  described  as  holy. 
 
 As  far  as  I  have  seen,  there  is  no  text  in  which  any  lifeless  material  object  without  in- 
 telligence or  spirituality  is  invoked  for  assistance  or  benefit.  Such  prayers  are  always 
 directed  to  intelligent  spirits  or  angels,  and  to  God  above  all  and  as  the  Creator  and  Lord 
 of  all. 
 
 The  Parsi  believes  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  in  rewards  and  punishments  after 
 death. 
 
 "  Ha  7. — O  great  and  wise  Lord,  the  reward  that  is  due  to  the  religious,  may  I  and 
 mine  receive  ;  that  reward  mayst  thou  give  from  thy  stores  of  bounty  in  such  a  way,  in 
 this  and  the  s|)iritual  world,  that  I  inay  be  exalted,  antl  may  I  live  for  ever  and  ever 
 under  thy  all-holy  leadershi]),  and  all-virtuous  |iroteclion. 
 
 "  H.-i  8. — May  the  aspirations  of, the  holy  be  fulfilled,  may  the  wicked  and  evil-doers 
 be  disappointed,  and  be  swept  away  from  the  creation  of  the  holy  Creator.  The  righteou*- 
 are  immortal." 
 
 Extracts  from  Ha  31  bear  on  tliis  point. 
 
 Notwithstanding  the  abhorrence  of  evil  and  evil-doers,  the  Parsi  is  made  to  wish  that 
 the  wicked  may  be  converted  to  virtue. 
 
 "  Ha  33. — The  wicked  are  punished  according  to  their  thoughts,  and  words,  and 
 <lceds.  I'ictter  it  be  that  they  l)e  intrcjiluced  to  a  taste  of  learning.  O  Hormuzd,  give 
 them  a  desire  for  wisdom,  that  they  may  become  promoters  of  holiness. 
 
 "  Ha  44. — O  Hormuzd,  why  may  not  these  sinners  l)ecome  virtuous?" 
 
 The  I'arsi  rests  his  pardon  on  the  mercy  of  God,  and  his  reward  on  the  bounty  of  God. 
 
 "  H.i  I.— If  I  have  by  thought,  word,  or  deed,  intcn'ionally  or  unintentionally,  not 
 kept  thy  commands,  and  thereby  saddened  thee,  I  invoke  thee  in  this  invocation,  I  pray 
 to  ihcc  and  praise  thee,  and  beseech  thee  for  thy  jiardon. 
 
 "  Ha  7. — May  I  receive  the  reward  for  piety  through  your  bounty." 
 
 The  morality  of  this  religion  is  comprised  in  the  three  words,  pure-thought,  pure-word, 
 and  pure-deed  ;  and  holiness,  virtue,  prayers,  etc.,  are  praised  and  exalted,  and  inculcated 
 in  many  jilaccs. 
 
 "  Ha  7. — I  praise  the  virtuous,  the  good,  and  the  jirayerful. 
 
 "Ha  19.— The  high  i)riesl  is  he  who  is  learne.l  in  the  religion,  and  whose  whole  life 
 is  devoted  to  the  promotion  of  righteousness  in  the  world. 
 
 "  H.i  20.  — Whoever  t.islcs  the  pleasure  of  righteousness,  which  is  above  all  other 
 pleasures,  an<i  walks  in  righteousness,  shall  lie  perfectly  holy.  He  is  virtuous  who  walks 
 in  virtue  among  holy  men,  and  is  true  to  them. 
 
Tin:  PANS/  RELIGION.  191 
 
 "  I  la  28. — O  Ilormuzil,  may  I  reach  thee  through  good  thought  (conscience).  (jive 
 me  virtue  in  the  creation  of  this  world,  and  in  the  otiicr  lieavenly  worhl.  Thou  givest 
 I'aradise  to  every  man's  soul,  through  good  ihouglit  (conscience).  Whatever  thou  hast 
 created  is  with  good  purposes.     May  I  learn  the  desire  for  righteousness,  as  I  am  able. 
 
 "  Ha  31.  — He  who  is  holy  goes  to  immortality. 
 
 "Ha  34. — What,  O  Hormuzd,  is  thy  will,  wliat  thy  worship,  and  what  thy  ir  ? 
 
 (l<jd  replies — see  and  adorn  lujliness — learn  my  ways  of  holiness  with  a  good  t. 
 — 'Jell  me,  O  Hormuzd,  the  ways  of  goo<l  conscience. — To  be  glad  with  the  religion  of 
 the  good,  with  virtuous  deeds,  and  with  holiness. 
 
 "  Ha  56. — May  the  virtue  of  the  virtuous  endure,  and  may  wickedness  vanish.  In 
 this  house,  may  obedience  prevail  over  disobedience,  peace  over  quarrel,  charity  over 
 hardheartedness,  good  thoughts  over  bad  thoughts,  truth  over  words  of  lie,  and  piety 
 over  sill. 
 
 "  Ha  59. — I  enjoin  on  earth  and  in  heaven  to  study  the  '  lionwar.'  I  enjoin  holiness 
 on  earth  and  in  heaven.  That  to  pray  much  to  Hurmuzd  is  good,  I  enjoin  in  heaven  and 
 on  earth.  I  enjoin  the  holy,  and  the  virtuous,  and  the  prayerful,  on  earth  and  in  heaven 
 to  punish  the  evil  spirit  and  his  works,  which  are  wicked  and  full  of  death — to  punish 
 the  thief  and  the  tyrant— punish  the  magicians  of  cruel  intentions — to  punish  the  breakers 
 of  promise,  and  those  that  induce  others  to  break  their  promise  — to  punish  the  harassers 
 of  good  and  holy  men  — to  punish  the  evil  thoughts,  words,  and  deeds,  of  the  sinful." 
 
 Truth  is  particularly  inculcated. 
 
 "  Ha  7. — I  understand  truth-telling  exalted. 
 
 "  II.i  19. — .Ml  the  days  of  the  holy  man  arc  with  thoughts  of  tnilh,  words  of  trum,  and 
 deeds  of  tiuth. 
 
 "  Ha  29. — The  walker  in  truth  is  the  obtaincr  of  immortality,  is  not  to  perish. 
 
 "  ll.a  31. — To  speak  true  words  is  true  excellence."' 
 
 The  I'arsi  believes  in  the  necessity  and  efficacy  of  prayer. 
 
 "  1  la  56.— I  invoke  the  benefit  and  success  of  jirayer.  To  arrive  at  prayer  is  to  arrive 
 at  perfect  conscience  ;  the  good  seed  of  prayer  is  virtuous  conscience,  virtuous  words,  and 
 virtuous  deeds.  May  our  prayers  be  eHTicacious  in  thwarting  the  inflictions  of  the  wicked 
 spirits  and  wicked  men.  May  I  love  prayer,  O  Hormu/d.  for  prayer  is  joy  to  mc.  I 
 resort  to  prayer,  and  I  invoke  prayer.  Prayer  to  thee,  O  Hormuzd,  is  the  giver,  excel- 
 lence, holiness,  success,  ami  high  exaltation  ;  it  is  the  act  of  virtue. 
 
 "  Ha  59. —  To  pray  much  to  Hormuzd  is  good,  I  enjoin  in  heaven  and  on  earth." 
 
 The  study  of  the  religion  is  considered  most  meritorious  ;  and  the  holy  word  (the  Zend 
 Avesia)  is  said  to  have  been  created  by  (jod  before  all  creation.  Extracts  from  Ha  19 
 all  refer  to  this  subject. 
 
 "  Ha  44. — What  is  the  high  religion?  That  which  promotes  holiness  and  tnith  with 
 good  thought,  word,  and  deed." 
 
 Il.i  19  declares  "Honwar"  (the  word  of  God)  to  have  been  created  before  the 
 heavens,  before  the  waters,  before  all  creation  ;  and  that  whoever  studies  them  without 
 ^^earying  shall  attain  to  the  par.ailise  of  the  holy,  which  is  full  of  glory. 
 
 "  ll.-i  59.  —  I  enjoin  on  earth  and  in  heaven  to  study  the  Honwar." 
 
 The  Parsi  religion  is  for  all,  and  not  for  any  particular  nation  or  people. 
 
 "  Ha  46.  —May  all  men  and  women  of  the  world  become  my  followers,  and  become 
 acquainted  with  thy  exalteil  religion.  Whoever  accepts  Zurthosl's  religion,  praises  it, 
 ami  meditates  on  it,  aiul  studies  it  much,  to  him  God  gives  a  place  in  the  other  world  ; 
 and  ill  this  world  Bahaman  (good  conscience)  gives  him  exaltation." 
 
 The  Parsi  religion  contains  no  propitiating  of  the  devil.  There  is  not  a  single  reference 
 to  the  thoiiL;hts,  or  words,  or  deeds  of  evil  spirits,  without  wishing  destruction  or  refor- 
 mation to  them. 
 
 "  Ha  I. — I  learn  the  Zurthosti  religion,  the  worship  of  God,  which  is  difTerent  to  that 
 of  the  Devs  (the  evil  spirits),  and  is  like  the  justice  of  God. 
 
 "Ha  8. — May  the  wicked  and  the  evil-doers  be  disappointed,  and  be  swept  away  from 
 the  creation  of  the  holy  Creator. 
 
 "Ha  12. — I  am  of  the  religion  of  the  worship  of  God  ;  I  praise  that  religion  and  declare 
 it  before  the  wicked,  and  piaise  it  with  good  conscience,  and  virtuous  words,  and  virtuous 
 deeds. 
 
 "  Ha  44. — O  Hormuzd,  why  may  not  these  sinners  become  virtuous  ? 
 "  Ha  32. — The  sinners  who  desire  bribery,  and  court  sovereignty  and  power  with  lies, 
 and  think  wickedness,  they  are  the  injurers  of  the  world.      They  obtain,  O  Hormuzd, 
 lamentation  from  their  (J^sire. 
 
 "  ILi  33. — The  wicked  are  punished  according  to  tlieir  thoughts,  words,  and  deeds. 
 Better  it  be  tliat  they  be  introiluced  to  a  taste  of  learning.  O  Hormuzd,  give  them  a  desire 
 for  wisdtiin,  that  they  may  become  promoters  of  holiness.'' 
 
192  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 The  Parsis  are  called  by  others  "  Fire  Worshippers,"  and  they  defend 
 themselves  by  saying  that  they  do  not  worship  the  fire,  but  regard  it  and 
 other  great  natural  phenomena  and  objects  as  emblems  of  the  Divine  power. 
 'J'o  me  it  appears  that  the  imputation,  on  the  one  hand,  is  wrong,  and  the 
 defence,  on  tlie  other  hand,  a  little  overshot.  Though  the  Parsi  "  re- 
 members, praises,  loves,  or  regards  holy,"  whatever  is  beautiful,  or  wonder- 
 ful, or  harmless,  or  useful  in  nature,  he  never  asks  from  an  unintelligent 
 material  object  assistance  or  benefit;  he  is,  therefore,  no  idolater,  or 
 worshipper  of  matter.'  On  the  other  hand,  when  the  Parsi  addresses  his 
 pravers  to  Hormuzd  or  God,  he  never  thinks  it  at  all  necessary  that  he 
 should  turn  his  face  to  any  particular  object.  He  would  say,  and  does 
 say,  his  "  Hormuzd  yasht"  (prayer  to  Hormuzd)  anywhere  whatever  with- 
 out the  slightest  misgiving.  Again,  when  he  addresses  the  angel  of 
 water,  or  any  other  but  that  of  fire,  he  does  not  stand  before  the  fire.  It 
 is  only  when  he  addresses  the  angel  of  fire  that  he  turns  his  face  to  the  fire. 
 In  short,  in  addressing  any  particular  angel,  he  turns  his  face  to  the  object 
 of  that  angel's  guardianship  as  his  emblem.  But  in  his  prayers  to  Hor- 
 muzd, he  recognises,  or  uses,  or  turns  his  face  to  no  emblems  whatever. 
 Since  fire  only  could  be  brought  within  the  limits  of  the  temple-— any  of 
 the  grand  objects  of  nature  (as  the  sea,  the  sun,  etc.)  being  unavailable  for 
 this  purpose — the  temples  naturally  became  the  sanctuaries  of  fire  alone, 
 and  hence  has  arisen  the  mistake  of  the  Parsis  being  regarded  as  "Fire 
 Worshippers." 
 
 This  much  is  clear  in  Ha  30 — "  He  who  knows  God  through  His  works 
 reaches  Him  "  ;— but  I  do  not  recollect  meeting  with  any  text  enjoining  a 
 Parsi  to  turn  his  face  to  any  particular  object  as  an  emblem  of  God  ; 
 though  he  is  directed,  as  in  the  above  text,  to  rise  from  Nature  to  Nature's 
 God. 
 
 The  doctrine  of  any  sort  or  form  of  "  propitiation  of  the  devil "  does  not 
 find  place  in  their  books.  To  struggle  for  doing  good  and  destroying  evil 
 is  an  emphatic  injunction. 
 
 Such  was  the  state  of  the  religious  belief  of  the  Parsis  till  a  generation 
 ago.  But  the  study  of  the  Zend  Avesta  has  been  since  carried  on  with  in- 
 creasing zeal,  activity,  and  intelligence  by  Parsi  educated  scholars.  The 
 •'  Ruhanumai,"  of  which  I  have  been  president  for  some  years,  has  been, 
 through  the  means  of  such  scholars,  carrying  on  its  researches  in  the  ancient 
 literature,  and  from  time  to  time  bringing  the  results  before  the  communi- 
 ties by  public  meetings  and  j^ublications  of  their  proceedings.  The  views 
 now  held  by  such  scholars  are  that  some  of  those  religious  books,  which 
 the  Parsis  considered  canonical,  were  not  so  ;  that  with  the  exception  of 
 a  certain  portion,  called  the  Gdtluis,  they  were  not  the  words  of  Zarthusht 
 or  his  contemporary  disciples  and  coadjutors,— that  before  Zarthusht's 
 time  the  religion  was  almost  a  i)oIytheism.  Zarthusht  made  a  complete 
 revolution— preached  the  worship  of  the  one  great  supreme  God,  as  the 
 beginning  and  end  of  the   holy  religion  ;  and   that   God   alone   was  the 
 
THE   PA  RSI  RELIGION.  i';3 
 
 creator  nnd  giver  and  all-in-all  of  everything.  He  threw  aside  the  earlier 
 gods  or  .si)irits;  addressing  God, — '''I'liou  and  thou  alone  does  my  mind's 
 eye  see." 
 
 The  monotheism  of  Zarthusht  was  complete  and  unequivocal  ;  and  his 
 monogamy  was  as  clear.  The  present  Parsi  scholars  maintain  that  the 
 other  books  are  later  compilations  by  priests  ;  that  after  the  death  of  Zar- 
 thusht the  priests  rehabilitated,  though  in  subordinate  positions,  the  earlier 
 spirits,  which  were  considered  as  presiding  over  fire,  water,  earth,  and  all 
 the  great  creations  of  nature  ;  and  established  the  ritual  and  ceremqniesas 
 thought  desirable  or  profitable  to  themselves,  as  has  happened  with  other 
 religions, —  that  all  the  invocations  to  the  various  spirits  for  aid  were  not  a 
 part  of  the  rcligicMi  as  Zarthusht  established  it ;  and  that  the  Parsis  should 
 return  to  the  original  spirituality,  simplicity,  and  purity  of  their  religion, — 
 that  it  is  clear  from  Zarthusht's  words  that  the  eternal  principles  of  the  wor- 
 ship of  one  God,  and  of  purity  in  thought,  word,  and  deed  were  alone  bind- 
 ing for  ever.  r>ut  all  customs,  ritual  and  ceremonies  adopted  according  to 
 the  circumstances  of  time,  place  and  civilization,  can  be  altered  as  the  good 
 and  the  physical  and  sj)iriiual  wants  of  the  community  may  require.  These 
 scholars  therefore  urge  th  it,  whatever  might  have  been  the  justification  or 
 reasons  of  many  religious  customs  and  ceremonies  at  the  time  when  they 
 were  first  adopted,  they  were  not  binding  on  the  community  for  ever,  and 
 that  they  must  reform  their  customs  and  ritual  as  time  and  circumstances 
 might  demand,  after  careful  consideration  by  the  community. 
 
 One  of  the  books  (the  Vandidad)  which  was  considered  in  ignorance,  as 
 most  sacred,  is  a  compilation  of  various  times,  and  is  mainly  directed  to 
 the  inculcation  of  cleanliness.  It  is  an  elaborate  sanitary  code,  accord- 
 ing to  the  lights,  requirements,  and  influences  of  the  times  and  conditions 
 of  life  of  the  Parsis. 
 
 I  may  conclude  by  remarking  that,  though  the  Parsis  are  a  small  number 
 — only  about  84,000  in  all  Imiia,  in  the  midst  of  a  population  of  254,000,000 
 — I  think  one  important  reason  why  they  occupy  so  large  a  sjiace  in  the 
 mind  of  the  world  is  that  intluence  of  their  religion  which  imposed  upon 
 them  love  of  God,  love  of  truth,  of  charity  in  all  its  senses,  and  an  earnest 
 striving  after  doing  some  good  as  the  mission  of  life,  and  which  embraced 
 their  morality  of  life  in  pure  thought,  wonl  and  deed.  May  they  always 
 continue  to  follow  in  these  paths  ! 
 
 VOL.    I.  O 
 
MITHRAISM. 
 
 Bv  John  M.  Robertson. 
 
 In  the  current  edition  of  the  Encyclopicdia  Brila/inica,  the  completion  of 
 which  was  recently  celebrated,  you  will  find  devoted  to  the  subject  of  the 
 ancient  deity  Mithra  or  Mithras,  and  his  cultus,  one  half-page.  It  might 
 seem,  then,  that  I  am  asking  your  attention  to  a  subject  of  very  small 
 importance — to  a  religion  of  very  little  account  among  the  religions  of 
 antiquity.  I  venture  to  assert,  however,  that  though  I  should  now  fail  to 
 awaken  in  you  any  interest  in  the  matter  proportionate  to  its  moment, 
 Mithraism  is  and  will  remain  a  subject  with  a  very  close  and  serious 
 bearing  upon  the  history  of  religious  evolution,  and  upon  the  concrete 
 religion  prevailing  in  our  own  day  in  Christendom.  A  very  little  inquiry 
 serves  to  discover  that  this  ancient  cult,  of  which  so  little  is  known  in  our 
 own  time,  was  during  some  centuries  of  the  Roman  Empire  the  most 
 widespread  of  tlie  reliyious  systems  which  that  Empire  embraced  ;  that 
 is  to  say,  that  Mithraism  was  the  most  iiearly  universal  religion  of  the 
 western  world  in  those  early  centuries  which  we  commonly  call  Christian — 
 the  two  or  three  centuries  before  the  fall  of  Imperial  Rome.  As  to  this, 
 students  seem  agreed.^  To  the  early  Fathers,  we  shall  see,  Mithraism  was 
 a  most  serious  thorn  in  the  flesh  ;  and  the  monumental  remains  of  the 
 Roman  period,  in  almost  all  i)arts  of  the  empire,  show  its  extraordinary 
 popularity.  In  our  own  country,  held  by  the  Romans  for  three  hundred 
 )ears  at  a  time  when  Christianity  is  supposed  to  have  penetrated  the 
 wliole  imperial  world,  there  have  been  found  no  monumental  signs  what- 
 ever of  any  Roman  profession  of  the  Christian  faith  ;  while  monuments 
 in  honour  of  Mithra  abound. ^  There  has  been  found,  for  instance,  a 
 Mitliraic  cave  at  Housesteads,  in  Northumberland,  containing  sculp- 
 tures of  Mithra-worship,  and  an  inscription:  "To  the  god,  best  and 
 greatest,  invincible  Mithra,  lord  of  ages"  ;  and  another  at  Kichester,  with 
 an  inscription  :  "  To  tlie  god  the  sun,  the  invincible  Mithra,  the  lord  of 
 ages."     Other  monuments  have  been  found  at  Chester,  on  the  line  of  the 
 
 >  r/.  Tide,  Outlines  of  the  Hist,  of  the  Anc.  Relig.,  Eng.  trans,  p.  170;  Gaslon 
 Hoissiei,  La  Kcli^toii  Konuuuc  ifAw^iiste  aii.x  Autouins,  i.  395,  ii.  417  ;  II.  Seel,  Die 
 Mithmi^eheimuine,  Aarau,  1823,  p.  214;  .Sainte-Croix,  Kaherches  sitr  Us  Mysthcs  dii 
 I'ai^anisme,  2c  td.,  11.  123;  Smith  and  Ciicctham's  Diet,  of  Christ.  Antiij.,  Art  /'rt;*?;/- 
 tim  ;  Hcugnni,  Hisl.  ih  la  J)rslru<(ion  du  J\it:,iiiis)„,;  18^5,  i.  152-161  ;  ii.  225  ;  \Vin- 
 (liMhinann,  A/Hhra,  tin  Heitra,^  zur  Mylhengeschichtc  des  ^Orients,  in  Ali/iandiungui  fur 
 dif  Kiiiide  dfs  Moii;nil,iiids,  Ikl.  i.,  .S.  62. 
 
 *  Sec  Wijghi's  "The  Cell,  the  Koni.m,  and  the  Saxon,"  41)1  ed.,  pp.  327,  353. 
 
 »;4 
 
MITIIRAISM.  195 
 
 Roman  wall,  at  Cambeck-fort  in  Cumberland,  at  Oxford,  and  at  York.' 
 And  "Miihraic  bas-reliefs,  cut  upon  the  smoothed  faces  of  rocks,  or  upon 
 tablets  of  stone,  still  abound  throughout  the  former  western  provinces  of 
 the  Roman  Empire  ;  many  exist  in  Germany  ;  still  more  in  PVance."  - 
 According  to  Mr.  King,  again,  "the  famous  'Arthur's  Oon '  (destroyed 
 in  the  last  century)  upon  the  Carron,  a  hemispherical  vaulted  building  of 
 immense  blocks  of  stone,  was  unmistakably  a  Specus  Miihrceum,  the  same 
 in  design  as  Chosroes'  magnificent  fire-temple  at  Gazaca."* 
 
 And  yet,  with  all  this  testimony  to  the  vogue  of  Mithraism  in  the  early 
 Christian  centuries,  there  ensues  for  a  whole  era  an  absolute  blank  in  the 
 knowledge  of  the  matter  in  Christendom— a  thousand  years  in  which  the 
 ancient  cultus  seems  a  forgotten  name  in  Europe.  One  modern  investi- 
 gator, M.  Lajard,'  thinks  that  since  the  time  of  the  Fathers,  as  the  phrase 
 goes,  the  first  in  F.uropean  literature  to  mention  Mithra  was  Pietro  Riccio 
 (I'etrus  Crinitus),'^  born  about  1465,  a  disciple  of  Politian  ;  and  no  other 
 mention  occurs  till  about  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century.'"'  And  such 
 was  the  ignorance  of  most  scholars,  that  of  three  now  well-known  Mithraic 
 monuments  discovered  about  that  period,  not  one  is  attributed  to  Mithra 
 either  by  the  great  antiquarian  of  the  time,  Rossi,  or  by  his  pupil  Flaminius 
 Vacca.  You  all  know  the  sculptured  group  of  Mithra  slaying  the  bull,  so 
 often  engraved,  of  which  we  have  a  good  e.Tample  in  the  British  Museum. 
 Rosbi  declared  one  of  these  monuments  to  represent  Jupiter,  as  the  bull, 
 carrying  off  Europa  ;  and  Vacca  tells  how  a  lion-headed  image,  now  known 
 to  represent  Mithra,  but  then  held  to  represent  the  devil,  was  (probably) 
 burned  in  a  linukiln.  A  century  later,  Leibnitz  demonstrated  that  Ormazd 
 and  Ahriman  were  simply  deified  heroes  ;  and  later  still  the  historian 
 Mosheim,  a  man  not  devoid  of  judgment,  elaborately  and  fatuously  proved 
 that  Mithra  had  simply  been  at  one  time,  like  Nimrod,  a  famous  hunter,' 
 before  the  lord  or  otherwise.  And  even  in  our  own  day,  when  all  the 
 extant  notices  and  monuments  of  Mithra  have  been  carefully  collected 
 and  studied,  a  vigilant  scholar^  confesses  that  we  are  profoundly  ignorant 
 as  to  the  Miihraic  religion.  It  is  somewhat  remarkable  that  this  should 
 be  so  :  and  though  in  the  terms  of  the  case  we  cannot  look  to  find  much 
 direct  knowledge,  we  may  hope  at  least  to  find  out  7i'hy  the  once  popular 
 cultus  has  fallen  into  such  obscurity.  To  that  end  we  must  see  what  really 
 is  known  about  it. 
 
 *  /(/.  p.  327.  W'ellbeloved,  Ehuraciim,  1S42,  pp.  75,  S4.  Stukeley,  Palaographica 
 Britannica,  No.  3,  London,  1752.  See  also  the  inscriptions  to  Sol  and  Mithra  in 
 Hiibner,  Inset:  Brit.  Lat. 
 
 *  C.  W.  King,  "The  Gnostics  and  their  Remains,"  2nd  ed.,  p.  136  :  See  the  modern 
 writers  on  Mithraism  generally. 
 
 »  Id.  ib. 
 
 *  Introduction  a  1' Etude  du  Culte  de  Mithra,  1S46,  pp.  2,  3. 
 ^  Dc  Honesta  Discif-lina,  v.  14,  ciled  by  Lajard. 
 
 ^  By  Sniet  and  Piglii. 
 
 ^  Mosheim's  notes  on  Cudworth,  Intel   Syst.,  Ilariison's  ed.,  i.  475. 
 
 ^  llavet,  Lc  Chriilianisinc  ct  ses  Ori^incs,  iii.  402. 
 
,96  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    IVORLD. 
 
 If  wc  were  to  trace  completely  the  history  of  Mithraism,  however,  we 
 shouKl  have  to  make  an  examination  not  merely  of  Mithraism  proper,  but 
 of  at  least  three  older  systems. ^  One  principle  must  have  been  impressed 
 on  many  of  you  by  the  present  course  of  lectures— namely,  that  all  re- 
 ligions run  into  and  derive  from  some  other  religions,  the  creeds  of  all 
 mankind  being  simply  phases  of  a  continuous  evolution.  So,  when  we 
 say  that  Mithraism  derives  from  Persia,  we  are  already  implying  that  it 
 atliliates  more  distinctly  to  India  and  to  Assyria— to  the  earliest  of  those 
 masses  of  confused  fancies  which  represent  in  somewhat  collected  form 
 man's  endless  guesses  at  the  riddle  of  the  universe.  Here  it  must  suffice, 
 therefore,  to  give  only  the  briefest  sketch  of  origins. 
 
 We  trace  the  cult  specifically  in  the  earliest  Ayran  documents — in  the 
 Vedas,  in  which  the  deity  Mithra  is  one  of  the  most  prominent  figures. 
 
 "  In  the  Inilo-Iranian  religion,"  M.  Darmesteter  writes,^  «'  the  Asuia  of  Heaven  was 
 often  invoked  in  comjiany  with  Mithra,  the  god  of  the  heavenly  light ;  and  he  let  him 
 share  with  himself  the  universal  sovereignty.  In  the  Veda  they  are  invoked  as  a  pair 
 (.Mitra-Varuna)  which  enjoys  the  same  powers  and  rights  as  Varuna  alone,  as  there 
 is  nothing  more  in  Mitr.i-Vaiuna  than  in  Varuna  alone,  Mithra  being  the  light  of 
 Heaven,  that  is,  the  light  of  X'arun.l.  ]5ut  Ahura-Ma/.da  [Ormazd]  could  no  longer 
 hear  an  equal,  and  Mithra  [in  the  Zend-Avesta]  became  one  of  his  creatures:  'This 
 Mithra,  the  lord  of  wide  pastures,  I  have  created  as  worthy  of  sacrifice,  as  worthy 
 of  glorification,  as  I,  Ahura-Mazda,  am  myself.'*  But  old  formulce,  no  longer  under- 
 stood, in  which  Mithra  and  Aluira,  or  rather  Mithra-Ahura,  are  evoked  in  an  indivisible 
 unity,  dimly  remind  one  that  the  Creator  was  formerly  a  brother  to  his  creature." 
 
 "  He  preserved,  however,  a  high  situation,  both  in  the  concrete  and  in  the  abstract 
 mythology.  As  the  god  of  the  heavenly  light,  the  lord  of  vast  luminous  space,  of  the 
 wide  p.ostures  above,  he  became  later  the  god  of  the  Sun,  Deo  invicto  Soli  Mithra  ;  (in 
 I'crsian,  A/ihr  is  the  .Sun.)  As  light  and  truth  were  one  and  the  same  thing,  viewed 
 with  the  eyes  of  the  body  and  of  the  mind,  he  becomes  the  god  of  truth  and  faith.  He 
 punishes  tiie  Mithra-Drug,  'him  who  lies  to  Mithra'  (or  '  who  lies  to  the  contract,' 
 since  Mithra  as  a  neuter  noun  means  friendship,  agreement,  contract ')  ;  he  is  a  judge  in 
 liell,  in  company  w  ilh  I\a>hiui,  '  the  true  one,'  the  god  of  truth,  a  mere  offshoot  of 
 Mithra  in  his  moral  character."  * 
 
 The  rittial  of  tlie  Avesta  is  perfectly  clear  on  the  subject.  "We  sacri- 
 fice unto  Mithra  and  Ahura,  the  two  great,  imperishable,  holy  Gods  ;  and 
 unto  the  stars,  and  the  moon,  and  the  sun,  wiili  the  trees  that  yield  up 
 baresma"  [burned  on  the  altar].  "We  sacrifice  unto  Mithra,  the  lord  ot 
 all  countries,  whom  Ahura-Mazda  made  the  most  glorious  of  all  the  Gods 
 in  the  world  unseen."  "  So  may  Mithra  and  .Vhura,  tlie  two  great  Gods, 
 come  to  us  fijr  help.  We  sacrifice  unto  the  bright,  undying,  shining,  swift- 
 horsed  sun."  •'■  And  connected  with  the  teaching  of  Zoroaster  we  find 
 Mithra  extolled  by  Ahura-Mazda  as  a  beneficent  and  comforting  si)irit. 
 
 '  As  to  Accidian  connections,  see  I.cnormant,  "Chaldean  Magic,"  Eng.  trans., 
 pp.  «95.  236. 
 
 »  The  Zend-Avesta,  i.,  Inlrod.,  pp.  Ix.,  Ixi.,  "Sacred  Books  of  the  East"  series, 
 vol.  iv. 
 
 »  "Mihr  Vast."  i..  in  vol.  ii.  of  M.  I  )armesteter's  translation  of  the  Zend-Avesta 
 (vol.  23  of  "  Sacred  ii.M.ks"  scries).     Cf  the  Khor.shed  Nyayis  in  same  vol.,  p.  351. 
 
 «  On  the  bearing  of  t-.nrly  .Mithraism  on  conduct,  see  in  jiarlicular  the  "  Mihr  Vast," 
 xxix.,  pronounced  by  M.  Darmesteter  "one  of  the  most  important  in  the  Avesta,  as  a 
 thorl  account  of  the  social  constitution  and  morals  of  Zoroastrian  Iran"  (ii.  149,  ».). 
 
 *  Darmcstclcr's  "  Zend-.\ vesta, "  ii.,  158,  351. 
 
MirilRAISM.  197 
 
 "  Happy  that  man,  I  think,"— said  Ahura-Mazda, — "  O  holy  Zarathustra  ! 
 for  whom  a  holy  priest,  .  .  .  who  is  the  word  incarnate,  offers  up  a 
 sacrifice  unto  INIithra.  .  .  .  Straight  to  that  man,  I  think,  will  Milhra 
 come,  to  visit  his  dwelling.  Then  Mithra's  boons  will  come  to  him,  as 
 he  follows  God's  teaching,  and  thinks  according  to  God's  teaching."^ 
 Tliis  was  doubtless  a  relatively  late  and  high  form  of  the  cultus  in  Persia, 
 since  in  the  Avesta  we  find  Mithra  repeatedly  invoked  as  a  warlike  and 
 formidable  deity,  a  god  of  battles,  swift  to  assail  and  slay  the  enemies 
 of  truth  and  justice — which  would  normally  mean,  the  enemies  of  his 
 worshippers. 
 
 Thus,  then,  we  have  the  cultus  of  Mithra  as  the  sun-god,  the  deity  of 
 light  and  truili,  created  by,  and  yet  co-equal  with,  the  Supreme  Deity, 
 and  fighting  on  the  side  of  the  good  against  the  evil  power  Angra-Mainyu 
 (Ahriman), — this  at  a  period  long  before  the  Christian  era.  So  much  is 
 certain,  whatever  we  may  decide  as  to  the  actual  period  of  the  writing  of 
 the  Avesta,  as  it  has  come  down  to  us.  Of  the  literature  of  Mazdeism, 
 of  course,  a  great  deal  has  perished;  this  appearing,  says  M.  Darmesteter, 
 not  only  from  internal  evidence,  hut  from  history. 
 
 "  The  Arab  conquest  proved  fatal  to  tlie  religious  literature  of  the  Sassanian  ages, 
 a  great  part  of  which  was  either  destroyed  by  tlie  fanaticism  of  the  conquerors  and  the 
 new  converts,  or  lost  daring  the  long  exotlus  of  tlie  I'arsis.  .  .  .  I'he  cause  that 
 preserved  the  Avesta  is  obvious  ;  taken  as  a  whole,  it  does  not  profess  to  be  a  religious 
 encyclopaedia,  but  only  a  liturgical  collection  ;  and  it  bears  more  likeness  to  a  prayer- 
 book  than  to  the  bible. "^ 
 
 Thus  we  can  only  infer  the  nature  of  the  system.  But  what  we  do 
 know  is  that,  as  time  went  on,  the  cultus  of  Mithra  became  more  and 
 more  considerable.  It  is  hardly  accurate  to  say,  as  does  Canon  Rawlin- 
 son,  that  "  Mithra  was  originally  not  held  in  very  high  esteem"  ;  but  it  is 
 the  historic  fact  that 
 
 "  he  ultiniati.ly  came  to  occupy  a  place  only  a  little  inferior  to  that  assigned,  from  the 
 first,  to  the  Ahura-Mazda.  Darius,  the  son  of  Hystaspes,  placed  the  emblems  of  Ahura- 
 Mazda  and  of  Mithra  in  equally  conspicuous  positions  on  the  sculptured  tablet  above  his 
 tomb  [B.C.  4S5] ;  and  his  example  was  followed  by  all  the  later  monarchs  of  his  race 
 whose  sepulchres  are  still  in  existence.  Artaxerxes  Mnenion  [</.  B.C.  35S]  placed  an 
 image  of  Mithra  in  the  temple  attached  to  the  royal  palace  of  Suza.  lie  also  in  his 
 inscriptions  unites  Mithra  with  .\huraM.azda,  and  prays  for  their  conjoint  protection. 
 Artaxerxes  Ochus  \(i.  B.C.  337]  does  the  same  a  little  later  ;  and  the  practice  is  also 
 observed  in  portions  of  the  Zendavesta  composed  about  this  period."  ^ 
 
 Artaxer.xes  Mnemon,  too,  swore  by  "  the  light  of  Mithras,"  as  our  William 
 the  Conqueror  swore  by  "  the  splendour  of  God."  ^ 
 
 But  of  the  importance  and  range  of  the  Mithraic  worship  at  a  distant 
 
 '  Darmesteter's  "  Zend-Avesta,"  ii.  155. 
 
 "^  Ibid.,  Introd.,  pp.  xxxi.,  xxxii. 
 
 3  "The  Religions  of  the  Ancient  World,"  p.  105,  citing  the  author's  "Ancient 
 Monarchies,"  iv.  334;  Flandin,  Voyage  en  Perse,  pis.  164  l<is,  166,  1 73-6;  Loftus, 
 "  Chaldxa  and  Susiana,  "p.  572;  and  Sir  H.  Rawlinson's  "Cuneiform  Inscriptions," 
 i.  342.  See  also  Windischmann,  Mithra,  ein  Beilrag  ziir  Mythengeschichte  des  Orients, 
 \n  Abhand/iiiJQcn  fiir  die  A'uiide  des  Morgculands,  Bd.  i.,  S.  55. 
 
 ■*  King,  "The  Gnostics  and  their  Remains,"  p.  116;  .Lilian,  Var.  Hist.,  i.  -^t,; 
 Xenophon,  Cryop.  vii.  5,  §  53. 
 
1 98  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 period,  wo  have  sufficient  evidence  in  the  mere  vogue  of  the  name 
 Milhridatcs,  "given  by  Mithra,"'  which  we  find  in  use  at  least  six  hundred 
 years  before  the  Christian  era. 
 
 This  deity,  then,  is  from  remote  antiquity  one  of  higli  moral  attributes, 
 at  times  worshipped,  no  doubt,  licentiously,^  as  deities  have  been  in  all 
 ages,  but  expressly  associated  with  moral  qualities.  Theologically,  he 
 exists  both  in  abstract  and  in  symbol  :  originally  he  is  simply  the  sun  ; 
 later,  according  to  the  universal  law  of  religious  evolution,  he  becomes 
 a  spirit  apart  from  the  sun,  but  symbolized  by  it,  the  sun  being  worshipped 
 in  his  name,  he  being  the  god  who  sustains  it ;  nay,  an  actual  subordinate 
 sun-god  takes  his  place,  even  in  the  Rig  Veda.-  But  since  in  Persian 
 his  name  (Mihr)  actually  means  the  sun,-'  he  can  never  be  dissociated 
 from  it ;  and  as  the  same  word  also  means  "the  friend,"  the  light  being 
 the  friend  of  man,'  and  seems  to  connote  love  or  amity,  a  moral' dis- 
 tinction inevitably  attaches  to  him  in  a  stage  of  human  thought  in  which 
 names  have  an  incalculable  significance.  And  at  length,  the  dualist 
 theory  holding  its  ground  as  a  theological  system,  as  it  always  will 
 while  men  personify  the  energies  of  the  universe,  Mithra  comes  to 
 occupy  a  singular  position  as  between  the  two  great  powers  of  good  and 
 evil,  Ormazd  and  Ahriman  (the  Ahura-Mazda  and  Angra-Mainyu  of 
 Mazdeism),  being  actually  named  the  Mediator,^  and  figuring  to  the 
 devout  eye  as  a  humane  and  beneficent  God,  nearer  to  man  than  the 
 Circat  Spirit  of  Good,  a  Saviour,  a  Redeemer,  eternally  young,  son  of  the 
 Most  High,  and  preserver  of  mankind  from  the  I^vil  One.  In  brief,  he 
 is  a  pagan  Christ. 
 
 Much  has  been  written  as  to  whether  Mithra  was  worshipped  as  the 
 sun,  or  as  the  creator  and  sustainer  of  the  sun.  There  can  be  little  doubt 
 that  the  two  ideas  existed,  and  were  often  blended.  We  may  depend 
 upon  it— that  for  the  weak  and  ignorant  minds,  which  could  only  conceive 
 a  personal  god  under  the  form  of  a  man  or  animal,  or  both  combined,  the 
 perpetual  pageant  of  the  sun  was  a  help  and  not  a  hindrance  to  elevation 
 of  thought  ;  and  that  even  to  the  thinkers  who  sought  to  distinguish  between 
 matter  and  essence,  and  reckoned  the  sun  only  a  i)art  of  the  material 
 universe,  the  great  orb  would  yet  be  the  very  symbol  of  life  and  splendour 
 and  immortality,  the  chosen  seat  of  the  deity  who  ruled  mankind  ;  and 
 that,  even  for  them  it  would  be  the  viewless  spirit  of  the  sun  who,  in 
 their  thought,  proclaimed  to  man  the  oracle  of  the  Soul  of  the  Universe  : — 
 
 '  .Alhcnncu!!  (x.  45).  cilinp  Ctesias  and  Duris,  tells  Ih.it  among  the  Persians  the  king 
 w.ns  permitted  to  get  ilrunk  .nnd  dance  on  one  day  in  the  year  only,  the  festival  of 
 Mithras  (jirohably  Christmas-day)  ;  no  one  else  heing  allowed  to  get  drunk  or  dance 
 on  that  day. 
 
 *  Kawlinson,  Relig.  of  Anc.  World,  p.  130. 
 
 ^  Darmcsleter,  IntrcKl.  to  "  Zen<l-Avesta,"  p.  liv.  ;  .Sainte-Croix,  Rcchcrchcs,  ii.  122,  n 
 
 *  Darmc^tetcr,  as  cited. 
 
 *  riiitarch.  On  Isis  and  Osiris,  46.  As  to  other  mediators,  see  Spiegel,  Avesla, 
 1852,  Eiultiluttg,  .S.  31. 
 
MITHRAISM.  199 
 
 "/  am  the  Alpha  and  the  Omega,  the  first  and  tlie  last,   which   is,  and 
 which  was,  and  which  is  to  come,  the  Almighty."  ' 
 
 But  in  the  great  polytheistic  era,  the  habit  of  personifying  all  the  forces 
 of  nature  led  first  to  a  universal  admission  of  the  actual  existence  of  the 
 deities  of  foreign  peoples — an  admission  which  we  find  repeatedly  made 
 in  the  sacred  books  of  the  Jews — and  later  on,  to  the  idea  that  all  the 
 deities  of  the  nations  are  but  names  of  phases  of  one  central  and  omni- 
 potent power.  Even  among  the  philosophers  and  theologians,  of  course, 
 this  conception  never  really  destroyed  the  habit  of  thinking  of  the  alleged 
 phases  or  manifestations  of  the  deity  as  being  really  minor  deities;  and 
 much  more  a  matter  of  course  was  it  that  among  the  multitude  the  deity 
 or  deities  should  always  be  conceived  in  a  quite  concrete  form.  But  the 
 synthesizing  tendency  early  resulted  in  this,  that  different  cults  were  com- 
 bined ;  different  god-names  identified  as  pointing  to  the  same  god  ;  and 
 different  gods  combined  into  unities  of  two,  three,  four,  or  more  members. 
 Egypt  is  the  great  theological  factory  for  such  combinations  ;  but  the  law 
 necessarily  o[)erated  everywhere.  The  conception  of  a  Divine  Trinity 
 is  of  unknown  antiquity ;  it  flourishes  in  Hindostan,  in  the  Platonic 
 philosophy,  in  l^gypt,  long  before  Christianity.  But  the  combining 
 process,  among  other  variations,  had  to  take  account  of  the  worship  of 
 goddesses  as  well  as  of  gods ;  and  in  regions  where  goddess-worship  was 
 deeply  rooted  it  was  inevitable  that  there  should  occur  combinations 
 of  sex.  This  actually  took  place  in  the  worship  of  Mithra.  Erom  Hero- 
 dotus,- writing  in  the  fifth  century  B.C.,  we  learn  that  in  some  way  the 
 god  Mithra  was  identified  with  a  goddess.  The  whole  passage,  though 
 familiar  to  students,  is  worth  quoting  : — 
 
 "The  Persians,  according  to  my  own  knowledge,  observe  the  following  customs.  It  is  not 
 their  practice  to  erect  statues,  or  temples,  or  altars,  but  they  charge  those  with  folly  who 
 do  so;  because,  as  I  conjecture,  they  do  not  think  the  gods  have  human  forms,  as  the 
 Greeks  do.  They  are  accustomed  to  ascend  the  highest  part-s  of  the  mountains,  and  olTer 
 sacrifice  to  Jupiter,  and  ihcy  call  the  whole  circle  of  the  heavens  by  the  name  of  Jupiter. 
 They  sacrilice  to  the  sun  and  moon,  to  the  earth,  fire,  water,  and  the  winds.  To  the>e 
 alone  they  have  sacrificed  from  the  earliest  times  :  but  they  have  since  learnt  from  the 
 Arabians  and  Assyrians  to  sacrifice  to  \'enus  Urania,  whom  the  Assyrians  call  Venus 
 Mylitta,  the  Arabians  Alitta,  and  the  Persians  Milra." 
 
 This  is  one  of  the  many  seemingly  improbable  statements  in  Herodotus 
 which  late  research  has  confirmed.^  He  is  accused,  indeed,  of  blundering* 
 in  combining  Mithra  with  Mylitta,  it  being  shown  from  monuments  that 
 the  goddess  identified  with  Mithra  was  Anaitis  or  Tanat.^  I  do  not  see 
 how  we  can  be  so  sure  that  Anaitis  and  Mylitta  were  never  regarded  as 
 
 '   A  very  ancient  Pag.\a  formula.      Cf.  Pausanias,  x.  12  ;  and  Plato,  Laws,  iv.  7. 
 
 •-■  i.  131. 
 
 ••  Lenormant  admits  of  the  alleged  blunder  :  "  Perhaps  it  was  not  after  all  an  error, 
 and  the  divine  couple  .  .  .  may  have  been  sometimes  designated  as  a  double 
 Mithra"  (Chaldean  Magic,  p.  236). 
 
 ■*  Rawlinson's  Ileroilotus,  i.  257.  Cp.  Lenormant,  Manual  of  .\nc.  Ilist.,  Eng.  trans., 
 ii.  46  ;  and  Chaldean  Magic,  as  cjuoted. 
 
 ^  /I'iii.  p.  416.  On  the  names  of  this  goddess,  see  G.  Diercks,  Entwickehtn^sgeschichte 
 des  Gdstcs  d(r  Mcnschhcit,  Berlin,  iSSt,  i.  242. 
 
700 
 
 RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  same  goddess  ;  but  in  any  case  the  point  as  to  combination  is  certain. 
 It  is  made  good,  not  only  by  the  statement  of  the  Christian  controver- 
 siahst  JuUus  Firmicus,  in  the  fourth  century,  and  later  writers,  that  the 
 Persians  make  Mithras  both  two-sexed  and  three-fold  or  three-formed, ^ 
 but  by  innumerable  Mithraic  monuments  on  which  appear  the  symbols  of 
 two  deities,  male  and  female,  the  sun  and  the  moon,  or,  it  may  be,  male 
 and  female  principles  of  the  sun.  And  this  epicene  or  double-sexed  cha- 
 racter is  singularly  preserved  to  us  in  that  Mithraic  monument  of  the 
 Grxco-Roman  period  which  we  possess  in  our  own  liritish  Museum,  in 
 which  the  divine  slayer  of  the  bull  presents  a  face  of  perfect  and  sexless 
 beauty,  feminine  m  its  delicate  loveliness  of  feature,  masculine  in  its  asso- 
 ciation with  the  male  form. 
 
 But  to  refer  to  these  Mithraic  monuments,  of  which  there  are  so  many 
 examples,  is  to  point  out  that  the  old  Persian  aversion  to  images  of  deity 
 had  disappeared  with  the  extension  of  the  Mithraic  cultus.  'J'here  is,  of 
 course,  no  doubt  as  to  the  original  forbiddal  of  images,  despite  the  common 
 delusion  that  the  Jews  were  the  first  to  lay  down  such  a  veto.  The  Jews, 
 of  course,  got  the  idea  from  their  conquerors,  who  taught  and  civilized 
 them.  But  it  was  inevitable  that  in  the  artistic  countries,-  the  adoption  of 
 Mithraism  should  involve  the  representing  Mithra  by  images,  like  other 
 deities.  Nor  was  this  all.  One  reason  for  regarding  the  Zend-Avesta  as 
 essentially  ancient  is  the  comparative  simplicity  of  the  Mithra  cultus  it  sets 
 forth.  Just  as  happened  with  Christianity  later,  the  spreading  faith  assimi- 
 lated all  sorts  of  ancient  symbolisms  and  new  complications  of  ritual ;  and 
 Mithra  later  figures  for  us  in  the  strange  symbolic  figures  of  the  lion-headed 
 serpentine  god,  but  above  all  in  that  of  the  slayer  of  the  bull.  Whence 
 came  that  conception?  There  are  many  explanations.  It  has  been 
 variously  decided  that  the  bull  slain  by  Mithra  is  the  symbol  of  the  earth, 
 the  symbol  of  the  moon,  the  bull  of  the  zodiac,  and  the  cosmogonic  bull 
 of  the  Magian  system.-'  Now,  any  one  who  has  studied  such  a  work  of 
 ancient  theosophy  as  Plutarch's  treatise  on  Isis  and  Osiris, — a  singularly 
 interesting  document,  by  the  way,  —  will  be  perfectly  prepared  to  believe 
 that  for  the  ancients  the  bull  of  Mithra  could  represent  all  four  of  these 
 tilings.  In  that  famous  treatise,  Isis  and  Osiris  and  Typhon  successively 
 represent  a  number  of  difTerent  principles  in  nature, — sun,  moon,  moisture, 
 the  Nile,  generative  warmth,  injurious  heat,  wind,  and  so  on, — shifting  and 
 exchanging  their  places,  till  it  becomes  plain  that  the  old  theosophy  was 
 
 '  /V  Errort  Profiinanini  I\cU;^ioviiiiiy  v.  (V)m]iare  Dionysius  the  pseiulo-Aieopngitc, 
 Kpist.  vii.  ail  I'olycarp.,  cited  in  Sclilcii,  De  Diis  Syris,  I'roleg.  c.  3;  and  in  Cudwoitii, 
 Intel.  .Syit.,  Harrison's  cd.,  i.  482.  In  a  passage  in  the  Yasna,  there  is  nienlion  of  "the 
 two  diYinc  Mithras"  (Lenormant,  as  quoted,  citing  lUirnoiif). 
 
 '  I  do  not  f|iiite  follow  Canon  Kawlinson's  meaning  in  the  statement  (Seventh 
 Oriental  Monarchy,  p.  632:  C'p.  Spiei;cl,  as  cited,  S.  15),  that  "the  Persian  systenv 
 was  further  tainteti  with  idolatry  in  respect  of  tlie  worship  of  Mithra."  For  that  matter, 
 liowcYcr,  the  "  idolatry  "  of  antiquity  is  on  all  fours  with  the  reverence  of -images  under 
 Christianity. 
 
 •  llammcr-rurgslall,  Mil/iriaca,  Caen  and  I'aris,  1S33,  p.  31. 
 
MITIIRAISM.  20 1 
 
 but  a  ceaseless  flux  of  more  or  less  congruous  fancies.  We  may  depend 
 upon  it  that  Mithraism  was  as  hospitable  to  mystic  meanings  as  Osirianism. 
 It  is  perfectly  intelligible  and  probable  that  Mithra  slaying  the  bull  should 
 have  meant  the  rays  of  the  sun  penetrating  the  earth,  and  so  creating  life 
 for  mundane  creatures,  as  the  dog  •  feeds  on  tiie  blood  of  the  slain  bull. 
 15ut  tliose  who  adoi)t  this  as  the  whole  explanation, ^  overlook  a  principle 
 bound  up  with  the  very  origin  of  Mithraism — the  significance  of  the  bull 
 as  one  of  those  signs  of  the  zodiac  through  which  the  sun  passed  in  his 
 annual  course.  It  is  certain  that  the  zodiac  was  the  source  of  very  much 
 of  the  symbolism  and  mysticism  of  those  ancient  cults  which  their  priest- 
 hoods associated  with  the  sun,  not  to  speak  of  those  whose  priesthoods 
 professedly  repudiated  sun-worship.  And  one  of  the  most  important  facts 
 established  by  the  collection  and  comparison  of  ancient  monuments  ^  is, 
 that  the  Mithraic  cultus  connects  symbolically  with  an  Assyrian  cultus  far 
 older.  You  have  all  seen  copies  of  that  common  Assyrian  monument,  in 
 wliich  a  divine  or  kingly  personage  slays  a  lion,  thrusting  a  sword  through 
 Inm.  There  can,  I  think,  be  no  reasonable  doubt  that  these  successive 
 religious  representations  of  the  slaying  of  the  lion  and  the  slaying  of  the 
 bull  rest  on  a  zodiacal  system  of  sacred  symbolism,  in  which  the  slaying 
 of  a  given  animal  means  either  the  passing  of  the  sun  into  a  particular  sign 
 of  the  zodiac  at  a  particular  season  of  the  year,  or  the  slaying  of  the 
 animal  represented  as  a  special  sacrifice.  The  zodiac,  which  is  of  immense 
 antiquity,  has  come  to  be  conventionalized — that  is  to  say,  it  is  fixed,  so 
 that  the  signs  have  long  ceased  to  coincide  with  the  actual  constella- 
 lions  whose  names  they  bear.  But  origmally  the  students  of  the  stars 
 must  needs  have  had  regard  to  the  actual  constellations.  And  this  carries 
 us  very  far  back  indeed.  If  it  be  right  to  decide  that  the  slaying  of  the 
 bull  originally  pointed  to  the  sun's  entering  the  sign  of  the  Bull  at  the 
 vernal  equinox  (and  this  is  strongly  suggested  by  the  hostile  function 
 assigned  in  the  monuments  to  the  scorpion,  which  is  the  opposing  sign, 
 and  would  represent  the  autumnal  equinox),^  then  this  symbol  dates  back, 
 probably,  more  than  3,000  years  before  the  Christian  era ;  while  the 
 symbol  of  the  slaying  of  the  lion  would  signify  the  sun's  entrance  into  Leo 
 at  Midsummer  in  the  same  period.  In  point  of  fact,  astronomy  tells  us 
 that,  by  the  precession  of  the  equinoxes,  the  constellation  of  the  Bull  had 
 ceased  to  be  the  sun's  place  at  the  vernal  equinox  for  about  2,100  years 
 before  the  reign  of  Augustus,  the  constellation  of  the  Ram  taking  its  place. 
 But,  just  as  the  symbol  of  the  slaying  of  the  lion  had,  on  this  theory,  held 
 its  ground   in  religion  after  the  bull   played   a  similar  part,  so  did  the  sign 
 
 *  Yox  another  signification  of  the  dog  here,  see  Mr.  King's  Gnostics  and  their  Remains, 
 2nd  ed. ,  p.  137.    Comiiare  the  Osirian  theory  in  Plutarch,  Isis  and  Osiris,  44. 
 
 2  King,  pp.  13s,  136. 
 
 ^  See  tlie  series  in  I,ajard"s  Atlas. 
 
 *  Lenormant  (Chaldean  Ma.;ic,  p.  56)  rejects  the  idea  that  there  was  an  astronomical 
 significance  in  the  Assyrian  bull-slaying  ;  but  his  arguments  do  not  amount  to  a  refutation. 
 He  rests  his  denial  on  one  fragment  of  a  conjuration,  which  makes  demons  bulls. 
 
202  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  the  Bull  play  its  part  in  symbol  and  ceremony  long  after  the  sun  had 
 begun  to  enter  the  constellation  Aries  at  the  sacred  season.  What  gives 
 the  zodiacal  theory  its  crowning  vindication,  however,  is  the  remarkable 
 fact  that,  while  the  bull  holds  its  place  on  the  monuments  at  the  Christian 
 era, — that  being  an  age  of  immense  diffusion  of  cults  and  mysteries  among 
 the  general  population  of  the  civilized  world, — we  find  at  this  very  period, 
 in  connection  with  the  worship  of  Mithra,  as  with  that  of  Dionysos  ^  or 
 Bacchus,  an  actual  ceremony  of  slaying  a  ram  in  honour  of  the  Sun-God. 
 In  Persia,  the  sign  Aries,  the  ram,  was  known  as  the  lamb;-  and  in  the 
 Mithraic  mysteries  at  the  Christian  era,  it  was  a  lamb  that  was  slain.  That 
 fact,  as  we  shall  see,  has  further  bearings  ;  but  thus  far  it  surely  counts  for 
 much  as  a  proof  of  the  zodiacal  element  in  the  symbolism  of  the  ancient 
 sophisticated  sun-worships.  And  though  the  notion  of  a  Fish-God  is  deeply 
 rooted  in  several  of  the  older  Eastern  religions,  I  know  of  no  more 
 plausible  explanation  than  the  zodiacal  one  of  the  early  Cliristian  habit  of 
 calling  Jesus  Christ  the  Fish.  The  sign  of  the  Fishes  comes  next  the  Ram 
 in  the  zodiac  ;  and  that  constellation  was  actually  taking  the  place  of  the 
 Ram,  at  the  spring  equinox,  about  the  time  this  symbol  came  into  use. 
 U'e  know  with  certainty,  too,  from  Origen,  that  the  Mithraic  mysteries 
 included  an  elaborate  representation  of  the  movements  of  the  stars  and 
 planets,  and  the  movements  of  the  disembodied  human  soul  among  these. '^ 
 Every  wide-spread  religion,  however,  is  necessarily  a  complex  of  many 
 ideas ;  and  in  the  cult  of  Mithra  this  is  abundantly  seen.  The  image  of  the 
 slaying  of  the  bull,  whatever  its  original  bearing,  came  to  be  associated 
 specially  with  the  idea  of  sacrifice  and  purification  ;  and  the  great  vogue 
 of  the  Phrygian  institutions  of  the  Taurobolia  and  Criobolia,'  or  purifica- 
 tion by  the  blood  of  bulls  and  rams,  must  have  reacted  on  Mithraism.  In 
 connection  with  these  we  have  the  literal  and  original  meaning  of  the 
 phrase  "  washed  in  the  blood  of  the  lamb  "  ;  the  doctrine  being,  that  resur- 
 rection and  eternal  life  were  secured  by  drenching  or  sprinkling  with  the 
 actual  blood  of  a  sacrificial  bull  or  ram  (often  doubtless  a  lamb,  that  being 
 a  common  sacrifice  from  time  immemorial).  Thus  we  have  such  mortuary 
 inscriptions  as  "  Taurobolia  criobolioque  in  (Ctcrnnm  rcnaius."  ^  But  where- 
 as there  was  a  constant  tendency  in  the  mystical  systems  to  substitute 
 symbolism  for  concrete  usages,  the   Mithraists  may  be  surmised   to  have 
 
 '  Tlie  ram  "  supplieil  tlic  favourite  Dionysiak  sacrifice."  R.  Brown,  "The  Great 
 nionysiak  .Mylh,"  ii.  65.  In  one  version  of  the  1  )ionysia.i  myth,  Zeus  changes  Dionysos 
 into  a  ram  lo  save  him  from  Hera.  Smith's  Diet.,  art.  Dionysus,  i:\\\ng  Hyginus  and 
 'Iheon. 
 
 *  Among  the  Jews,  a  male  lamb  one  day  old  was  called  a  ram,  AjiL  Jastrow's 
 Tahnudic    Diet.,  s. v.    ^<»X- 
 
 ■^  Against  Cclsus,  vi.  22. 
 
 ■•   Kc-ferrcd  to  by  Kirmicus,  xxviii. 
 
 *  (liven  in  note  on  Kirmicus  in  ed.  Ilackiana,  1672,  p.  56.  See  it  also  in  Orelli,  No. 
 2352.  .Sec  further  No.  1899,  1900,  2130,  2199,  2322,  2326,  2328,  2330,  2331,  2351, 
 2353.2361.  Compare  Boeckh,  6012, /^  ^.  Here  the  taurobolium  and  criobolium  are 
 directly  connected  with  Mithraism.  ( )n  the  "  blood  shed  for  all  "  see  I'reller,  R6mischc 
 Mjft/iol,\qif,  1S65,  p.  761,  ;/. 
 
MITIIRAISM.  203 
 
 ultimately  performed  tlieir  sacrificial  rites  in  a  less  crude  form  than  that 
 described  by  Prudenlius.^ 
 
 Resembling  other  cults  at  some  points,  the  Mithraic  was  markedly  pecu- 
 liar in  others.  The  great  specialty  of  this  worship,  as  we  learn  from  several 
 writers,  is  that  it  was  carried  on  in  caves — so  far  at  least  as  its  special 
 mysteries  were  concerned — the  cave  being  considered  so  all-important  that 
 where  natural  caves  did  not  exist  the  devotees  made  artificial  ones.''* 
 Porphyry  puts  it  on  record'^  that  the  "  Persians,  mystically  signifying  the 
 descent  of  the  soul  into  the  sublunary  regions,  and  its  regression  thence, 
 initiate  the  mystic  in  a  place  which  they  call  a  cavern.  For,  as  Eubulus 
 says,  Zoroaster  was  the  first  who  consecrated,  in  the  neighbouring  moun- 
 tains of  Persia,  an  orbicular  cave,  in  which  there  were  flowers  and  foun- 
 tains, in  honour  of  Mithra,  the  maker  and  father  of  all  things — a  cave, 
 according  to  Zoroaster,  bearing  a  resemblance  to  the  world,  which  icas 
 fabricated  by  Mithra.  Put  the  things  contained  in  the  cavern  . 
 were  symbols  of  the  mundane  elements  and  climates.  ' 
 
 This  explanation  of  the  cave  was  not  improbably  suggested  by  a  well- 
 known  passage  in  Plato  ;  and  it  is  obvious  that  the  custom  must  have  had 
 some  simpler  origin.  It  is  easy  to  understand  how  to  half-civilized  man 
 caves  would  have  a  hundred  mysterious  significances,  as  places  for  dwelling 
 or  meeting  made  by  the  Deity  himself;  and  fire-  or  sun  worshippers  would 
 have  the  special  motives  supplied  by  finding  in  caves  the  remains  of  the 
 fires  made  by  the  earlier  men,  and  by  the  not  unnatural  theory  that  the 
 sun  himself  went  into  some  cave  when  he  went  below  the  horizon  at  night. 
 Indeed  Porphyry  admits  that  caves  in  the  most  remote  periods  of  antiquity 
 were  consecrated  to  the  gods,  before  temples  were  consecrated  to  them. 
 Hence  the  Curetes  in  Crete  dedicated  a  cavern  to  Jupiter  ;  in  Arcadia,  a 
 cave  was  sacred  to  the  moon  and  to  Lycean  Pan  ;  and  in  Naxos,  to 
 Bacchus.  "  But,"  he  adds,  "wherever  Mithra  was  known,  they  propitiated 
 the  god  in  a  cavern."  ^ 
 
 It  appears  that  the  greatest  sanctity  attached  to  caves  in  the  living  rock  ; 
 and  there  are  many  remains  of  Mithraic  altars  cut  in  rocks  ;  ^  nay  more, 
 the  rock  came  to  be  s|)ecially  associated  with  Mithra,  who  was  named 
 "rock-born";  and  the  phrase,  "  0eos  eV  TreV/^a?,  God  out  of  the  rock,"  or 
 "  Mithras  out  of  the  rock,"  became  one  of  the  commonest  formulas  of  the 
 cultus.'"'     In  these  rock-caves,  then,  or  in  artificial  caves,  the  priests  of 
 
 '  X.  1009-1050.  Concerning  the  taurolwlium  at  Athens,  see  Dittenberger,  Ijiscr. 
 Attictv  ict.  Rouian.,  172,  173.     Cp.  King,  "  Gnostics,"  p.  154. 
 
 2  Caves  were  therefore  made  in  honour  of  Mithra,  as  temples  in  honour  of  other  gods. 
 See  Orelli,  2340,  2341. 
 
 ^  On  the  Cave  of  the  Nymphs,  ii.     Cf.  Firmicus,  v. 
 
 ^  As  cited,  viii.  Cf.  Statins,   Theh.  i.  719-720. 
 
 *  See  the  engravings  in  Jacob  Bryant's  Analysis  of  Ancient  Mythology,  ed.  1774,  410, 
 ol.  i.,  pp.  232,  234,  294. 
 
 "  Firmicus,  Dc  Errorc,  xxi.  ;  Justin  Martyr,  Dialogue  with  Trypho,  c.  70  ;  Jerorne, 
 Adversus  Jcviuianum,  i.  7  (Migne,  xxiii.,  col.  219)  ;  Windischmann  pp.  61,  62,  citing 
 Commodianus  and  Johannes  Lydus. 
 
:o4  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Miiliras  celebrated  the  habitual  rites  and  the  special  mysteries  of  their 
 reUgion.  How  far  they  practised  daily  or  weekly  devotions  is  one  of  the 
 matters  as  to  which  we  have  no  positive  information  ;  but  there  are  many 
 reasons  for  believing  that  the  worship  was  habitual.^  The  rising  sun 
 would  be  daily  hailed  with  joy,  as  among  the  Jewish  Essenes,  and  sun- 
 worshippers  everywhere  ;  and  during  the  night,  when  the  sun  was  hidden, 
 special  prayers  would  be  offered  up.  The  first  day  of  the  week,  Sunday, 
 was  of  course  from  time  immemorial  consecrated  to  IMithra  by  Mithraists; 
 and  as  the  sun-god  was  pre-eminently  "the  Lord,"  Sunday  was  "the  Lord's 
 day  "  long  before  the  Christian  era.  On  that  day  there  must  have  been 
 special  Mithraic  worship.  But  we  have  some  exact  information  as  to  the 
 two  chief  Mithraic  ceremonies  or  festivals,  those  of  Christmas  and  Easter, 
 the  winter  solstice  and  the  vernal  equinox,  the  birthday  of  the  sun-god,  and 
 the  period  of  his  sacrifice  and  his  triumph.'  That  Christmas  is  a  solar 
 festival  of  unknown  antiquity,  which  the  early  Christians  ai)propriated  to 
 Christ  in  total  ignorance  of  the  real  time  of  his  birth,  is  no  longer  denied 
 by  competent  Christian  scholars — when  they  happen  to  allude  to  the 
 subject.  'J'hat  Easter  is  also  a  solar  ^  festival  is  perhaps  not  so  freely  re- 
 cognised. But  we  know  not  only  that  Mithras  and  Osiris  (and  Horus), 
 like  so  many  other  solar  deities,  were  especially  adored  at  the  vernal 
 equinox,'*  but  that  in  these  worships  there  were  special  formulas  represent- 
 ing, apparently  at  this  date,^  the  symbolical  death  of  the  deity,  the  search 
 for  his  body,  and  the  finding  of  it.  The  Christian  Firmicus  wrathfully  tells 
 how  the  priests  of  Osiris,  who  have  a  representation  of  the  god  in  the  most 
 secret  part  of  their  temples,  mourn  for  a  certain  number  of  days  fpre- 
 sumjjtively  forty,*' =  Lent),  while  professedly  searching  for  the  scattered 
 members  of  his  mangled  body,  till  at  length  they  feign  to  have  found  it, 
 when  they  finish  their  mourning  and  rejoice,  saying,  "We  have  found  him  : 
 rejoice  we."  '^  And  we  learn,  from  TertuUian  that  Osiris  in  the  mysteries 
 was  buried  and  came  to  life  again.**  But  as  to  Mithraism  the  details  are 
 still  more  precise.  The  worshippers,  Firmicus  tells  us,^  lay  a  stone  image 
 by  night  on  a  bier  and  liturgically  mourn  for  it,  this  image  representing 
 the  dead  god.  This  symbolical  corpse  is  then  placed  in  the  tomb,  and 
 after  a  time  is  withdrawn    from    the    tomb,  whereupon    the  worshippers 
 
 *  Under  the  Mazdean  system,  prayer  was  ofTered  to  Mithra  thrice  daily;  at  dawn,  at 
 noon,  an<i  at  sunset.  (Kawlinson,  "  Seventh  Oriental  .Monaicliy,"  p.  C2S,  citing  .Spiegei, 
 TiOiitt.  Schrift.  li.  Pars.,  p.  135.) 
 
 *  .Sec  Julian,  Upon  the  Sovereign  Sun,  Bohn  trans.,  pp.  249-251  ;  Treller,  Komische 
 Mylhologie,  1865,  p.  275. 
 
 '  Ur  rather  a  luni-solar.  It  is  singular  that  this  movable  feast  should  be  celebrated  as 
 an  annhersary  of  an  event  with  apparently  no  orthodox  misgivings. 
 
 *  .Macrobius,  Siifnr,„i/i,t,i.  18.     Cp.  rreiier,  Kcmischc  Mytholoi;i€,  1S65,  p.  760. 
 
 *  llut  see  I'lularch,  On  Isis  and  Osiris,  39,  wiiith  creates  a  difficulty. 
 
 *  Compare  the  forty  nights  mourning  of  the  mysteries  of  Proserpine,  De  Errore, 
 c.  xxviii. 
 
 '   De  Errore,  11. 
 
 *  .Against  Marcion,  i.  13. 
 
 *  De  Errore,  xxiii. 
 
MITHRAISM.  :o5 
 
 rejoice,  exhorting  one  another  to  he  of  good  hope;  lights  are  brought  in  : 
 and  the  priest  anoints  the  throats  of  the  devotees,  murmuring  slowly  :  "  Be 
 of  good  courage;  you  have  been  instructed  in  tlie  mysteries,  and  you  shall 
 have  salvation  from  your  sorrows."  The  parallel  to  a  central  episode  in 
 the  Christian  legend  is  sufficiently  striking ;  but  there  is  testimony  from 
 the  same  source^  that  a  similar  liturgy  was  gone  through  in  connection  with 
 the  burial  and  resurrection  of  Osiris. 
 
 This,  however,  was  only  one  of  the  Mithraic  mysteries,  presumably  cele- 
 brated once  a  year.  We  have  further  records  of  another  enacted  at  the 
 initiation  of  every  new  devotee,  and  probably  repeated  in  some  form  fre- 
 quently. Justin  Martyr,  in  his  first  Apology,*  after  describing  the  institu- 
 tion of  the  Christian  Lord's  Supper,  as  narrated  in  the  Gospels,  goes  on  to 
 say  :  "  Wliich  the  wicked  devils  have  imitated  in  the  mysteries  of  Mithras, 
 commanding  the  same  thing  to  be  done.  For,  that  bread  and  a  cup  of 
 water-'  are  i)laced  with  certain  incantations  in  the  mystic  rites  of  one  wlio 
 is  being  initiated,  you  cither  know  or  can  learn."  And  this  is  borne  out 
 by  Tertullian,  who  intimates  '  that  "  the  devil,  by  the  mysteries  of  his  idols, 
 imitates  even  the  main  parts  of  the  divine  mysteries.  He  also  baptizes  his 
 worshippers  in  water,  and  makes  them  believe  that  this  purifies  them  of 
 their  crimes.  .  .  .  There  Mithra  sets  his  mark  on  the  forehead  of 
 his  soldiers  ;  he  celebrates  the  oblation  of  bread  ;  he  offers  an  image 
 of  the  resurrection,  and  presents  at  once  the  crown  and  the  sword  ;  he 
 limits  his  chief  priest  to  a  single  marriage  :  he  even  has  his  virgins  and  his 
 ascetics  (^v;///'///tv//6'j)."  Again, ^  the  devil  "has  gone  about  to  apjily  to  the 
 worship  of  idols  those  very  things  in  which  consists  the  administration  of 
 Christ's  sacraments." 
 
 Reference  is  here  made  to  a  certain  ceremony  of  initiation.  The  com- 
 plete initiation  of  a  worshipper,  we  know,  was  an  elaborate  and  even  a 
 painful  process,  involving  many  austerities,  trial  by  water,  trial  by  fire,  by 
 cold,  by  hunger,  by  thirst,  by  scourging,  by  branding  or  bleeding,''  and  the 
 mock  menace  of  death.  Of  these  austerities  different  but  vague  and  scanty 
 accounts  are  given.  According  to  some  accounts  they  lasted  fifteen  days  ; 
 according  to  others,  for  forty-eight  :'  one  old  writer  *  alleges  eighty  ditfer- 
 ent   kinds  of  trials.     It   is  more  likely  that  they  numbered  twelve,  seeing 
 
 '  Dc  Enore,  ii. 
 -  c.  66. 
 
 *  The  Ebionite  Christians  (the  e.irliest),  it  will  be  remembered,  celebrated  the  com- 
 mimion  rite  with  bread  and  water  (Epiphanius,  Hl?!.,  30).  And  water  was  mixed  with 
 wine  in  later  usage  ;  see  Bingham,  Christian  Antiquities,  ed.  1S55,  v.  242. 
 
 *  Prascr.,  c.  40.     Cf.  De  Bapt.,  c.  5  ;  De  Corona,  c.  15. 
 '  Pnrscr.,  40. 
 
 **  On  this  see  Mr.  King's  "Gnostics,"  p.  139,  citing  Aug.  in  Johann.  i.  7;  Mem. 
 Revelation,  xiii.  17  ;  also  Gregorj-  Nazianzen's  First  Invect.  ag.  Julian,  c.  70.  (Bohn 
 JuHan,  p.  39). 
 
 '   Sainte-Croix,  Recherches,  ii.  126,  «. 
 
 ^  Nonnus,  cited  by  Selden,  De  Diis  Syris,  Syntag.  i.,  c.  5  :  and  by  Windischmann, 
 p-  69.  See  there  also  the  important  citation  from  Ellas  of  Crete.  Compare  Suidas,  as 
 cited  on  p.  68.     As  to  the  origin  of  the  trials,  see  Darmesteter  on  Mihr  Vast,  xxx.  122. 
 
2o5  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 that  on  the  Mithraic  monuments  we  find  representations  of  twelve  episodes, 
 doubtless  corresponding  to  the  twelve  labours  which  we  find  in  the  stories 
 of  Hercules,  Samson,  and  other  sun-heroes  ;  but  probably  also  connected 
 wiili  tlie  trials  of  the  initiated.^  More  explicitly  we  know  from  Porphyry 
 and  from  Jerome  that  the  devotees  were  divided  into  a  number  of  different 
 degrees,  symbolically  marked  by  the  names  of  birds  and  animals,  and 
 apparently  by  wearing,  during  some  of  the  rites,  the  skins  or  heads  of  these 
 animals.  Porphyry  ~  mentions  grades  of  lions,  lionesses,  and  crows,  and 
 higher  grades  of  eagles  and  hawks ;  Jerome  ^  speaks  of  crow,  gryphon, 
 soldier,  lion,  Persian  (or  Perses),  sun,  Bromios  =  roarer  (or,  the  bull),  and 
 father.  Out  of  the  various  notices,  partly  by  hypothesis,  M.  Lajard  has 
 constructed  a  not  quite  trustworthy  scheme,'^  representing  twelve  Mithraic 
 degrees  :  three  terrestrial,  the  soldier,  the  lion,'^  and  the  bull  :  three  aerial, 
 the  vulture,  the  ostrich,  and  tlie  raven  ;  three  igneous,  the  gryphon,  the 
 horse,  and  the  sun ;  and  three  divine,  the  grade  of  fathers,  named  eagle, 
 sparrow-hawk,  and  father  of  fathers.  It  makes  a  sufficiently  grotesque  list, 
 in  this  or  any  other  form  ;  but  it  is  the  old  story — all  religions  are  absurd 
 to  those  who  do  not  believe  them ; "  and  it  is  not  well  for  those  who  keep 
 a  private  conservatory,  however  small,  to  throw  stones. 
 
 We  have  thus  far  briefly  examined  what  may  be  termed  the  skeleton  or 
 dry  bones  of  the  Mithraic  religion,  so  far  as  we  can  trace  them,  at  the 
 period  when  it  seemed  to  be  successfully  competing  with  Christianity. 
 What  of  the  inner  life,  the  spiritual  message  and  attraction  which  there  must 
 have  been  to  give  the  cult  its  hold  over  the  Roman  Empire  ?  Here  it  is 
 that  our  ignorance  becomes  most  sharply  felt.  So  far  as  Christian  zeal 
 could  suppress  all  good  report  of  Mithraism,  this  was  done,  when  Christi- 
 anity— I  will  not  say  overthrew,  but  absorbed  the  Mithraic  movement. 
 To  this  day  you  find  Christian  scholars  either  saying  or  hinting  that 
 INIithraism  was  signalized  in  the  Roman  period  by  human  sacrifices.  I 
 know  no  more  disingenuous  suggestion  in  the  orthodox  j^resentment  of 
 Paganism,  profoundly  prejudiced  and  unjust  as  that  generally  is.     We  do 
 
 '  Oil  the  twelve  episodes,  cp.  Sainte-Croix,  as  cited,  with  King,  "  Ghostics,"  p.  128. 
 Compare  the  "twelve  stoles,  '  in  the  mysteries  of  Isis,  mentioned  by  Apuleius  {Metarii., 
 15.  xi.).  There  is  a  remarkable  cones|)ondence  l)etween  the  twelve  Mithraic  trials  and 
 twelve  fornis  of  Hindoo  penance  (especially  as  regards  the  last),  as  described  by  Maurice, 
 "Indian  Antiquities,"  1794,  v.  981.  These  twelve  orders  of  fast  include  triads  lasting 
 fifteen  days  ;  and  the  whole  would  cover  more  than  eighty  days. 
 
 '^  On  Abstinence  from  Animal  Food,  iv.  16. 
 
 ^  Epislola  cvii.  (vii. )  ad  J.iclaiii. 
 
 *  Kecherches  stir  U  Cu'.U  rtiblic  el  My  stives  de  Mithra,  ed.  1S67,  \^.  132,  et  ser^.  The 
 main  authority  for  twelve  degrees  is  Porphyry's  citation  from  I'allas  as  to  the  sigi'is  of  the 
 zodiac  ;  but  M.  Lajard's  list  is  not  zodiacal.  The  grade  of  the  ostrich  is  particularly  ill 
 made-out  (p.  338).  ^ 
 
 '  Every  animal's  name  used  must  have  ha<l  a  symbolical  meaning.  Thus  we  Ivave  it 
 through  Tertullian  (Against  Marcion,  i.  13),  that  "  the  lions  of  Miihra  are  m}steriies  of 
 arid  and  scorched  nature." 
 
 "  There  is  a  curious  correspondence  between  M.  Lajard's  four  grades  and  the  embleins 
 of  the  four  evangelists  given  by  Augustine  :   Matthew  — lion,  Mark=-man  (this  order  oftoi^ 
 reversed),  Luke  =  ox,  John^^cagle.     bee  "  Variorum  Teachers'  Bible,"  Aids  (o  Students, 
 !>.  10. 
 
MITHRAISM.  207 
 
 know  that  during  the  whole  of  the  first  three  or  four  centuries  it  was 
 charged  against  the  Christians,  by  Jews  or  Pagans,  that  they  were  wont  to 
 sacrifice  a  child  at  their  mysteries.*  That  charge  was  doubtless  false,  but 
 it  was  constantly  repeated.  Now,  tlie  only  kind  of  record  founded  on  for 
 the  charge  against  Mithraism  is  one  which  utterly  destroys  that  charge. 
 Sainte-Croix,  following  a  plainly  worthless  suggestion  of  the  ecclesiastical 
 historian  Socrates,''^  was  reckless  enough  to  refer  ^  to  a  passage  in  the  life 
 of  Conimodus  by  Lampridius,  in  the  Augustan  history,  in  support  of  his 
 insinuation  that  Mithraism  involved  human  sacrifice.  But  this  passage^ 
 explicitly  says  that  Commodus  '■'■polluted  the  rites  of  Mithras  by  a  real 
 homicide,  where  it  is  usual  for  something  to  be  said,  or  feigned  to  be  done 
 for  the  jHirpose  of  causing  terror  "  {quum  illic  aliquid  ad  speciem  timoris 
 vel  did  vd  fiiigi  solent).  The  same  scholar  makes  another  reference  which 
 equally  serves  to  confute  him  ;  ^  yet  an  English  writer  later  speaks  of 
 "  the  dark  and  fearful  mysteries  "  of  Mithra,  repeating  the  old  insinuation.'^ 
 'I'he  Mithraic  mysteries,  save  for  the  fact  that  they  involved  real  austeri- 
 ties and  a  scenic  representation  of  death,  were  no  more  dark  and  fearful 
 than  the  Christian  mysteries  are  known  to  have  been,  not  to  speak  of  what 
 these  are  said  to  have  been.  There  lies  agiinst  them  no  such  imputation 
 of  licence  as  was  constantly  brought  against  the  midnight  meetings  of  the 
 Christians,  or  as  is  specifically  brought  by  St.  Paul  against  his  own  converts 
 at  Corinth.  Their  purpose  was  unquestionably  moral  as  well  as  consola- 
 tory.''  In  llie  words  of  Suidas,  the  worshipper  went  through  his  trials  in 
 order  that  he  should  become  holy  and  passionless.  In  the  course  of  the 
 initiation,  as  we  know  from  the  unwilling  admiration  of  TertuUian,**  the 
 devotee,  called  the  soldier  of  Mithras,  was  offered  a  crown,  which  it  was 
 his  part  to  refuse,  saying  that  Mithra  was  his  crown.  And  everything 
 points  to  the  enunciation  of  a  theory  of  expiation  of  and  purification  from 
 sin,  in  which  Mithras  figured  as  mediator  and  saviour,  actually  undergoing 
 a  symbolic  sacrifice,  and  certamly  securing  to  his  worshippers  eternal  life,^ 
 As  to  the  doctrine  of  immortality  being  pre-Christian,  it  is  now  quite  un- 
 necessary to  speak  ;  and  the  whole  Mithraic  symbolism  implies  such  a 
 teaching.  On  most  of  the  bull  monuments,  you  may  remember,  there 
 stand  beside  Mithra  two  figures,  one  holding  a  raised  and  one  a  lowered 
 torch.  These  signified  primarily  sunrise  and  sunset,  or  rising  spring  sun 
 and  sinking  autumn  sun  ;  but,  as  Lessing  long  ago  showed,  they  were  also 
 
 '  See  Oiigen,  Against  Celsus,  vi.  27  ;  Cf.  Minucius  Felix,  "Octavius,"  c.  9. 
 2  B.  iii.,  c.  2  ;  K  v.,  c.  16. 
 '  Recherches,  ii.  135. 
 
 *  Cap.  9.     Sainte-Croix  ofTers  an  extraordinary  mistranslation  of  the  passage. 
 
 *  To  Porphyry,  On  Abstinence,  ii.  56  ;  a  passage  which  only  says  that  dow.i  till  the 
 time  of  Hadrian  it  was  the  custom  to  sacrifice  a  virgin  to  Mimrva.  at  Laodicea. 
 
 •^  Wright,  "Tiie  Celt,  the  Roman,  and  the  Sa.xon,"  4th  ed.,  p.  328.     The  insinuation 
 is  found  also  in  the  encyclopaedias. 
 
 '   See  Origen,  Against  Celsus,  iii.  59.     Cf.  Preller,  Gricchische  Mythologie,  i.  497. 
 .    ®  De  Corona,  c.  15. 
 
 ^  See  Garucci,    Les  Mys/i-res  dn  Syncntisme  Phrygku,   passim.     Cf.  Windischmann 
 {■S.  53)1  as  to  the  older  cultus. 
 
2o8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  ancient  symbols  for  life  and  death.  Now  we  can  understand  how  such 
 a  cultus,  with  an  elaborate  ceremonial  and  an  impressive  initiation,  with 
 the  attractions  of  august  and  solemn  mysteries  and  the  promise  of  immor- 
 tal life,  could  spread  throughout  the  Roman  Empire  in  the  age  in  which 
 the  primitive  Roman  religion  crumbled  away  before  the  advance  of  far 
 more  highly  specialized  and  complicated  cults.  Above  all  was  it  popular 
 in  the  army,  which  really  seems  to  have  been  to  some  extent  a  school  of 
 moral  strength  and  order  at  a  time  when  an  appalling  abjection  was  over- 
 taking the  Roman  world,  men  reverencing  rank,  as  dogs  reverence  men. 
 One  of  the  first  stages  in  the  initiation,  for  men,  consisted  in  the  devotee 
 receiving  a  sword,  and  being  called  a  soldier  of  Mithra.^  Thus  Mithraism 
 was  specially  the  faith  of  the  soldiery  ;  2  and  in  doing  honour  to  the  invin- 
 cible sun-god  Mithrd — Deo  Soli  Invictcz  Miihrce,  as  the  monuments  have 
 it — the  Emperor  Constantine  vied  with  the  most  loyal  Mithraists  long  after 
 his  so-called  conversion  to  Christianity.^  But  there  were  also  women  wor- 
 shippers, as  we  know  from  at  least  the  grade  of  lionesses — sometimes  oddly 
 named  that  of  hycenas,  from  a  slight  blunder  in  the  Greek  text."^  And  I 
 think  we  may  infer  that  this  cultus,  with  its  austerities  and  its  solemnities, 
 attracted,  on  the  whole,  men  and  women  of  the  better  type.  There  can 
 be  little  doubt  that  the  practice  of  lavish  charity  among  the  early  Chris- 
 tians attracted  to  the  churches  worthless  characters,  and  so  promoted 
 demoralization.  Mutual  help  there  probably  was  among  Mithraists ;  but 
 we  find  no  organized  almsgiving. 
 
 I'ut  now  comes  the  great  question.  How  came  such  a  cultus  to  die  out 
 of  the  Roman  and  Byzantine  Empires  after  making  its  way  so  far  and 
 holding  its  ground  so  long  ?  The  answer  to  that  (question  has  never,  I 
 think,  been  fully  given,  and  is  for  the  most  part  utterly  evaded,  though  part 
 of  it  has  been  suggested  often  enough.  The  truth  is,  that  Mithraism  was 
 not  overthrown  ;  it  was  merely  transformed. 
 
 Of  course  we  are  told  that  the  Mithraic  rites  and  mysteries  were  bor- 
 rowed and  imitated  from  Christianity.^  But  the  plainest  refutation  of  this 
 notion,  as  has  been  pointed  out  by  M.  Havet,*^  lies  in  the  language  of  those 
 Christian  fathers  who  spoke  of  Mithraism.  Three  of  them,  as  we  have 
 seen,  speak  of  the  Mithraic  resemblances  to  Christian  rites  as  being  the 
 work  of  devils.  Now,  if  the  Mithraists  //^7^/ simply  imitated  the  historic 
 Christians,  the  obvious  course  for  the  latter  would  be  simply  to  say  so.  In 
 that  case  there  would  be  no  need  to  talk  of  demons  ;  it  would  be  far  more 
 effective  to  charge  human  i)lagiarism.  Justin  Martyr  expressly  argues  that 
 the  demons  anticipated  the  Christian   mysteries  and   prepared   parotlies  of 
 
 '  Tcrtulli.-in.Z^*-  Corona,  xv.  ;  ('jarucci,  Mystires  dit  SyncrHisme  rhry'^ien,  1S54,  p.  34. 
 '  Of  old,  as  wc  h.ive  seen,  Millira  was  a  war-t^od. 
 '  .See  his  coins.     Coinpaie  (iil)l)()n,  cli.  20,  28. 
 ■*  .See  Dc  Sacy's  note  on  .Sainte-Cr<jix,  ii.  128. 
 
 *  So  Sainic-Croix,  Reclurches,  ii.  147  ;  and  Beugnot,  Hist,  dc  la  Deslr.  du  Pag.,  i. 
 157,  158,  161. 
 
 *  Le  Chriitianisnic  <t  ses  Oiif^ines,  iv.  133, 
 
MITHRAISM.  209 
 
 them  beforehand.  "When  I  hear,"  he  says  in  his  Dialogue  with  Trypho,' 
 "  when  I  hear,  Trypho,  that  Perseus  was  begotten  of  a  virgin,  I  understand 
 that  the  deceiving  serpent  counterfeited  also  this."  Nobody  pretends  that 
 the  Perseus  myth,  or  the' Pagan  virgin  myth  in  general,  is  later  than  Chris- 
 tianity. Justin  Martyr,  indeed,  is  perhaps  the  most  foolish  of  all  the 
 Christian  fathers ;  but  what  he  says  about  the  anticipatory  action  of  the 
 demon  or  demons  plainly  underlies  the  argumentation  also  of  Tertullian 
 and  Julius  Pirmicus.^  'Phe  Mithraic  mysteries,  then,  of  the  burial  and 
 resurrection  of  the  Lord,  the  Mediator  and  Saviour, — burial  in  a  rock  tomb 
 and  resurrection  from  that  tomb— the  sacrament  of  bread  and  water,  and 
 the  marking  on  the  forehead  with  a  mystic  mark, — all  these  were  in  prac- 
 tice, like  tlie  Egyptian  search  for  the  lost  corpse  of  Osiris,  and  the  repre- 
 sentation of  his  entombment  and  resurrection,  before  the  publication  of  the 
 Christian  Gosi)cl  of  a  Lord  who  was  buried  in  a  rock  tomb,  and  rose  from 
 that  tonili  on  the  day  of  the  sun,  or  of  ihe  Christian  mystery  of  Divine 
 communion,  with  bread  and  water  or  bread  and  wine,  which  last  were 
 before  emjjloyed  also  in  the  mysteries  of  Bacchus,  sun-god  and  wine-god, 
 doubtless  as  representing  Ins  body  and  blood. -^  Nor  was  this  all.  Firmi- 
 cus  ^  informs  us  that  the  devil,  in  order  to  leave  nothing  undone  for  the 
 destruction  of  souls,  had  beforehand  resorted  to  deceptive  imitations  of  the 
 cross  of  Christ.  Not  only  did  they  in  Phrygia  fix  a  young  man  to  a  tree 
 in  the  worship  of  the  Mother  of  the  Gods,  and  in  other  cults  imitate  the 
 crucifi.xion  ^  in  similar  ways,  but  in  one  mystery  in  particular  the  Pagans 
 were  wont  to  consecrate  a  tree  and,  towards  midnight,  to  slay  a  ram  at  the 
 foot  of  it.  This  cult  may  or  may  not  have  been  the  Mithraic;  there  is  a 
 very  strong  presumption  that  it  was.  You  have  all  seen  a  strange  Christian 
 symbol  in  which  Christ  is  represented  as  a  lamb  or  ram,  carrying  by  one 
 forefoot  a  cross.  Now,  we  know  from  Porphyry  "  that  in  the  mysteries  "  a 
 place  near  the  equinoctial  circle  was  assigned  to  Mithra  as  an  appropriate 
 seat.  And  on  this  account  he  bears  the  sword  of  the  Ram  [Aries],  which 
 is  a  sign  of  Mars  [Ares]."     The  sword  of  the  Ram,  we  may  take  it,  was 
 
 '  c.  70. 
 
 -  I'liUarch  states  (Life  of  Pompey,  c.  24)  that  Mithraism  was  first  introduced  to 
 Rome  through  the  Cilician  pirates,  whom  Pompey  put  down.  Paul,  as  M.  Havet  re- 
 marks, would  be  in  the  way  of  knowint;;  the  cults  of  Cilicia.  Tarsus,  indeed,  was  a 
 Mithraic  centre.      See  Preller,  Komische  Alythologie,  p.  75S. 
 
 ^  I  have  sought  to  show  {National  Reformer,  June  15th,  1S90),  that  the  passage  in  i 
 Cor.  xi.  23-27  is  certainly  interpolated  in  whole  or  in  part,  probably  by  the  same  hand 
 that  manipulated  xv.  5  (see  National  Reformer,  November  27th,  and  December  4th, 
 1887)  If  this  argument  be  valid,  and  I  think  it  is,  we  are  left  with  Paul  practising  a 
 Holy  Supi^er  of  which  he  has  no  Jesuine  record.     And  now  compare  I  Cor.  x.  21. 
 
 *  De  Errore,  xxviii. 
 
 ^  Suggestions  of  the  crucifix  appear  in  the  Mithraic  monuments.  See  the  develop- 
 ment from  the  winged  figure,  in  Lajard's  "  Atlas  ; "  and  compare  the  plate  in  Bryant,  i. 
 294.  That  the  "  crown  of  thorns  "  is  a  variation  on  a  nimbus  has  long  been  surmised. 
 Mithra  of  course  had  a  nimbus  (Windischmann,  p.  60).  And  the  early  Persian  sun-god 
 rode  "  v\iih  his  hands  lifted  up  towards  immortality"  (or  heaven),  "  Mihr  Vast,"  31  ;  in 
 Darmestcter,  ii.  152.      For  other  connections,  stts  National  Reformer,  Uec.  21,  1890. 
 
 •^  On  the  Cave  of  the  Nymphs,  c.  11. 
 
 VOL.    1.  P 
 
2IO  REIJG/Oi'S  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 simply  figured  as  the  cross,  since  a  sword  is  a  cross. ^  Again,  Porphyry 
 explains  -  that  "Mithra,  as  well  as  the  hull,  is  the  demiurgos  and  lord  of 
 generation."  Here  then  would  be  a  symbolical  slaying,  in  which  the  deity 
 is  sacrificed  by  the  deity ;  '^  and  we  may  safely  infer  that  the  symbolic  ram 
 in  turn  would  be  sacrificed  by  the  Mithraists  on  the  same  principle ;  since 
 we  actually  know  that  a  slain  lamb  figured  in  their  mysteries."^  Now,  it  is 
 the  historic  fact  that  among  the  early  Christians  a  ram  or  lamb  was  sacri- 
 ficed in  the  Paschal  mystery.  It  is  disputed  between  Greeks  and  Latins 
 whether  at  one  time  the  slain  lamb  was  offered  on  the  altar,  together  with 
 the  mystical  body  of  Christ ;  but  it  is  admitted  by  Catholic  writers — and 
 this,  by  the  way,- is  the  origin  of  a  certain  dispute  about  singing  the  Ag/ius 
 Dei  in  church — that  in  the  old  Ordo  Komanus  a  lamb  was  consecrated, 
 slain,  anil  eaten, , on  Easter  Day,  by  way  of  a  religious  rite.'^  Of  this  lamb, 
 too,  the  blood  was  received  in  a  cup.'"'  Take  again  the  curious  circumstance 
 that,  whereas  in  the  gospels  Jesus  is  said  to  have  been  born  in  an  inn 
 stable,  early  Christian  writers,  as  Justin  Martyr^  and  Origen,^  explicitly  say 
 he  was  born  in  a  cave.  Now,  in  the  Mithra  myth,  Mithra  is  both  rock-born 
 and  born  in  a  cave ;  and  a  later  saying  represents  him  as  also  super- 
 naturally  born  of  a  virgin.'-^  And  it  is  remarkable  tliat  whereas  a  cave  was 
 (and  I  believe  is)  shown  as  the  birthplace  of  Jesus  at  Bethlehem,  Saint 
 Jerome  actually  complained  ^^  that  in  his  day  the  Pagans  celebrated  the 
 worship  of  Thainmuz  (  =  Adonis),  and  presumably  therefore  the  festival  of 
 the  birth  of  the  sun — Christmas  Day — at  that  very  cave.^^ 
 
 Other  correspondences  might  easily  be  traced ;  as,  the  building  of 
 churches  looking  towards  the  east,^~and  the  number  of  the  Apostles  ;  '^  but 
 
 '  Note,  on  this,  the  astronomical  "  crossing  "  of  lines  at  the  "first  point  of  Aries  " 
 (see  English  or  Chambers'  Encyc,  art.  Zodiac)  ;  and  see  it  imaged  in  tlie  old  figure  in 
 Brown's  ed.  of  Aratos. 
 
 ■■*  I'lacc  cited. 
 
 '  The  people  of  Crete  destroyed  a  bull  to,  represent  tlie  destruction  of  Bacchus  (Firmi- 
 cus,  vi.). 
 
 ^  Ciarucci,  Les  Mystires  du  Syncrctisme  Phryi^ioi,  p.  34.  And  see  the  lamb  in  the 
 monument  of  the  winged  bull-slaying  .Mithra,  in  Lajard's  Atlas. 
 
 *  .See  Bin!L;ham's  Christian  .\nlifiuitics,  ed.  1.S55,  iii.  244,  245. 
 
 "  Casalius,  De  V'eterib.  Christ.  Rilib.,  ii.  4,  cited  by  Dupuis.  It  is  noteworthy,  that  iho 
 priestess  of  Apollo's  oracle  at  I.arissa  became  possessed  by  the  god  once  a  month  on 
 tasting  the  blood  of  a  sacrificed  lamb  (Pausanias,  ii.  24). 
 
 ^  Dialogue  with  Trypho,  c.  78. 
 
 '  Against  Celsus,  i.  51.  Comjiare  the  Apocryphal  gospels,  Protev.,  >ii.  14;  Infancy, 
 i-  6,  xii.  14.  Note,  too,  that  Dionysos  was  said  to  have  been  nurtured  in  a  cave  ( Pau- 
 sanias, iii.  24  ;   Diodorus  .Siculus,  iii.  67). 
 
 "  lClis;vus  the  Armenian  historian  {d.  480),  cited  by  Windischmann,  .S.  61,  62. 
 
 '"  Kpist.  58,  ad  Paulinum  (Migne,  Palrologiie  CitrsHS  Computus,  ser.  i.,  vol.  xxii.,  col. 
 581). 
 
 "  DionysoR,  too,  it  should  be  noted,  was  wor.shijiped  in  caves.  Pausanias,  ii.  23  ; 
 Porphyry,  cited  above.  So  also  were  Apollo,  Hermes,  Hercules,  Demeter,  and  Poseidon 
 (Pausania«,  iii.  25;  vii.  25;  viii,  15,  36,42;  x.  32).  Apollo's  resting-place  is  a  cave 
 (I'indar,  Olymp.  vii.  57)  ;  Jupiter  is  cave-born,  and  worshiii|ie<l  in  a  cave  (Ilesioii, 
 Thfof^.,  483  ;  Strabo,  xvi.  2,  §  3.S).  Hermes  is  born  at  a  cave  mouth  (Homcrid.  Hymn). 
 '*  This,  of  course,  is  a  usage  of  aImo>t  all  religions.  Only  we  know  that  the  Mithraic 
 worship  f.illDwed  it.     See  Weil  beloved's  El'iinuuin,  p.  85. 
 
 "  Apart  from  the  more  pressing  question  whether  the  Christian  legend  does  not  rest  on 
 
MITHRAISM.  211 
 
 these  are  enough,  I  think,  to  prove  the  point.  Of  course  those  who  loyally 
 accept  the  Christian  records  as  unquestionably  true  will  not  be  influenced 
 by  such  considerations  ;  whatever  method  they  may  adopt  to  explain  away 
 those  parallels  which  the  Fathers  simply  set  down  to  the  account  of  the 
 demon.  Ihit  those  of  you  who,  like  myself,  cannot  see  your  way  to  accept 
 as  historic  truth  the  central  inci<]ents  of  the  Gospel  story — those  of  you 
 may  see  in  the  mystic  rites  of  Mithraism  and  other  old  solar  religions — 
 rites  which  symbolized  abstract  ideas  and  not  concrete  facts — the  scientiric 
 explanation  of  the  Christian  phases  of  supernaturalism.  In  this  way  the 
 sacrosanct  episodes  of  the  holy  supper  and  the  resurrection  from  the  rock 
 tomb,  as  well  as  the  legend  of  the  birth  at  Yuleiidc  in  a  cave,^  the  Sunday 
 worship,  and  the  Raster  tragedy,  all  become  finally  intelligible  to  the  eye 
 of  science.  And  when  we  find,  in  the  First  Epistle  of  Peter  (ii.  4,  5),  a 
 phrase  about  Jesus  being  a  "living  stone,"  and  read  in  the  gospels  how  the 
 Ford  said,  "Thou  art  Peter,  and  upon  this  Rock  I  will  build  My  Church," 
 we  turn  from  such  an  obviously  unhistoric  utterance  back  to  the  Mithraic 
 rites,  and  see  in  the  sacred  rock  of  Mithra,  the  rock  from  which  the  god 
 comes,  the  source  of  the  Roman  legend.' 
 
 Of  course  it  was  not  merely  Mithraism  that  was  assimilated  by  Chris- 
 tianity. The  new  faith  absorbed  matter  from  many  sides.  Take,  for 
 instance,  the  Fourth  Gospel,  which,  written  under  Alexandrian  influences, 
 represents  some  of  the  later  accretions  ;  and  turn  to  such  a  story  as  that  of 
 the  seamless  robe  of  Jesus.  Here  is  a  new  myth-motive  :  whence  ditl  it 
 come  ?  Turn  to  Osirianism,  and  you  find  that  of  Osiris  it  was  taught  ■'  that 
 his  robe,  unlike  that  of  Isis,  was  one,  whole,  indivisible,  that  robe  being  the 
 universal  light— the  ideal  robe  of  the  sun — whereas  the  light  of  the  moon 
 
 the  probable  fnct  of  an  institution  of  t\ve]%-e  strictly  Je^vish  Apostles  (the  true  "Twelve 
 Apostles"  of  the  Didache  so  much  discussed  in  recent  years),  it  has  to  be  noted  that 
 Mithra  was  represented  as  surrounded  by  the  twelve  signs  of  the  zodiac  in  a  particular 
 order,  beginnin<j  on  the  right  with  .\quarius  and  ending  on  the  left  with  Capricorn,  and 
 that  this  usage  was  imitated  by  the  Christians.  See  the  admissions  of  Wellbeloved  (p.  86), 
 as  to  the  zodlncal  arch  of  the  Church  of  St.  Marg.aret's  in  Walmgate,  York.  Aquarius  to 
 the  Christian  sense  would  doubtless  represent  Peter,  especially  as  the  old  zodiacs  con- 
 nected this  sign  with  fishing.  Note  that  the  old  festival  of  Teter  at  Rome  (Jan.  iSth) 
 coincided  with  the  sun's  entering  Aquarius  in '.he  calendar. 
 
 *  Even  the  "  stable"  story  has  a  curious  connection  with  Mithraism.  See  the  Greek 
 formula  in  Firmicus  (v.  passage  corrupt)  ;  "  The  sacred  heifers  have  lowed  ;  hold  we  the 
 solemn  feast  of  the  most  august  father."  M.  Darmesteter  holds  (Orwazd  et  Ahrimaii,  p. 
 152,  n.)  that  "  the  lcgen<ls  of  gods  born  or  reared  in  stables  ;  among  shepherds  (Krishna) ; 
 even  that  of  Mithra  as  Trerpoyevris,  in  virtue  of  the  synonymy  of  stone,  mountain,  stable— 
 ndri-i,roO;r,"—a\l  derive  from  the  widespread  bull  or  cow  myth.  But  for  an  interesting 
 astronomical  signification  of  the  stable  (  =  the  Augean),  see  Dupuis,  OHsine  de  lous  Ics 
 Cultes,  ed.  1835-6,  vii.  104. 
 
 2  The  stone  myth  has  very  wide  bearings.  Note  the  passage  m  Daniel  11.  34  ;  also  the 
 Mazdean  element  in  Zechariah  iii.  9.  The  "  seven  eyes  "  are  certainly  connected  with 
 the  seven  Amshaspands  or  planetary  gods— of  whom  Mithra  was  chief  (Windischmann,  p. 
 62  ;  Seel,  p.  215),  as  was  also  Ormazd,  according  to  other  texts  (Darmesteter,  Ormazd  et 
 Ahriman,  p.  38).  The  "  fair  mitre  "  raises  the  difficult  question  as  to  the  origin  of  that 
 name. 
 
 »  Plutarch,    On  Isis   and   Osiris,    c.    78.      Compare  Jamblichus,   On   the   Egyptian 
 
 Mysteries,  c.  ix. 
 
212  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 is  variable  and  chequered,  and  the  robe  of  Isis  accordingly  is  so  :  both 
 robes  being  actually  so  represented  in  the  mysteries.  In  the  Egyptian 
 teaching,  however,  we  have  a  poetic  idea  ;  in  the  Christian  legend  it  be- 
 comes a  meaningless  concrete  myth,  tied  to  a  trivial  prophecy.  Take 
 again  the  late  miracle  story  of  the  turning  of  water  into  wine.  Here  is  an 
 episode  without  spiritual  dignity — one  of  the  least  noble  of  all  the  miracle 
 stories.  Whence  came  it  ?  Ask  yourself  what  it  is  that  in  actual  Nature 
 may  be  rsaid  to  turn  water  into  wine,  and  you  soon  get  the  answer.  It  is 
 the  sun,  which  drives  the  sap  through  branch  and  leaf,  and  ripens  it  into 
 fnuit  and  .exquisite  juice.  And  when  we  find  that  in  connection  with  the 
 worship  of  Bacchus,  sun-god  and  wine-god,  there  was  in  the  island  of 
 Andros  a  fountain  which  was  said  to  yield  wine  during  the  yearly  festival 
 of  the  god,  at  the  nones  of  January,^  we  need  hardly  go  farther.  The  fact 
 that  the  Catholic  Church  actually  celebrates  the  miracle  of  Cana  at  the 
 date  at  which  the  Pagans  celebrated  the  Dionysian  wine  miracle  is  only  a 
 slight  addiitionai  proof.  In  the  same  way  we  may  reasonably  surmise  that 
 the  story  of  the  scourging  of  the  dealers  in  the  temple  is  a  Judaic  applica- 
 tion of  the  idea  in  the  figwes  of  the  scourge-bearing  god,  found  alike  in 
 Egyptian,  in  Assyrian,  and  in  Gnostic  monuments. 
 
 Now,  these  developments  of  mystical  doctrine  and  symbolism  into  con- 
 crete myth  point  to  another  part  of  the  explanation  of  the  supersedence  of 
 Mithraism  by  Cliristianiiy.     Religions,  we  say,  like  organisms  and  opinions, 
 struggle  for  survival,  and  the  fittest  survive.     That  is  to  say,  that  one  sur- 
 vives which  is  fittest  for  the  environment — not  fittest  from  the  point  of  view 
 of  another  and  higher  environments     Now,  what  was  the  religion  that  was 
 fittest,  that  was  best  adapted,  for  the  populations  of  the  decaying  Roman 
 Empire,  in   which   ignorance  and  mean   subjection  were   slowly  corroding 
 alike  intelligence  and  character,  leaving  the  civilized   provinces  unable  to 
 hold  their  ground  against  the  barbarians .?     Well,  an  unwarlike  population, 
 for  one  thing,  wants  a  sympathetic  and  emotional  religion  ;  and  here,  though 
 Mithraism  has  many  attractions,  Christianity  had  more.     The  beautiful 
 and  immortal  youth  of  the  older  sun-worships,  Apullo,  Mithras,  Dionysos, 
 was  always  soluble  into  a  mysterious  abstraction  :  in  the  Christian  legend 
 the  god  was  humanized  in  the  most  literal  way ;  and  for  the  multitude  the 
 concrete  deity  must  needs  replace  the  abstract.      The   Gospels   gave   a 
 literal  story  :   the  divine  man  was  a  carpenter,  and  ate  and  drank  with  the 
 poorest  of  the  poor.     So  with  the  miracles.     The  priesthoods  of  the  older 
 religions  always  explained  to  the  initiated,  in  the  mysteries,  the  mystical 
 meaning  which  was  .symbolized  by  the  concrete  myths;  and  in  some  early 
 Christian  writers,  as  notably  Origen,  you  find  a  constant  attempt  so  to  ex- 
 plain away  concrete  miracle  and  other  stories  as  allegories.     But  gradually 
 
 '  Pliny,  Nat.  Hist.,  ii,  106  (103),  xxxi.  13.  Pausanias,  vi.  26.  Note,  too,  tlie  .story  in 
 P.nusanins  of  the  pl.iciny  of  empty  jars  in  a  locked  room  in  tlie  temple,  and  finding  them 
 full  of  wine  next  day.  .See  it  ai.so  in  Alhenaus,  i.  61,  citiny  Theopompos  the  Chian  (fl. 
 H.c.  350).  Compare  the  myth  of  the  three  sisters  of  Andros  in  Ovid,  Mdamorph.  xiii. 
 6^0-654. 
 
MITHRAISM.  213 
 
 the  very  idea  of  allegory  died  out  of  the  Christian  intelligence ;  and  priests 
 as  well  as  people  came  to   take  everything  literally  and  concretely,  till 
 miracles  became  everyday  occurrences.     This  was  the  religion  for  the  dark 
 ages,  for  the  new  northern  peoples  which  had  not  gone  through  the  Pagan 
 evolution  of  cults,  and  symbolisms,  and  mysticisms,  but  whose  own  tradi- 
 tional  faith    was  too  vague  and  j^rimitive  to  hold  its  ground  against  the 
 elaborate  Cliristian   theology  and  ritual.     But  that  was  not  all.     The  fatal 
 weakness  of  Mithraism,  as   pitted  against   Christianity,  was  that  its  very 
 organization  was  esoteric.    Now,  an  esoteric  institution  can  never  take  hold 
 of  the  ignorant  masses.     Mithraism  was  always  a  sort  of  freemasonry,  never 
 a  public  organization.     What  the    Christians  did  was  to  start,  like  Rome 
 herself,  from  a  republican  basis — for,  as  Dean  Milman  has  put  it,^  the  first 
 churches  were,  ecclesiastically  speaking,   Greek  republican  groups — and 
 then  to  build  up  a  great  organization  on  the  model  of  that  of  republican 
 and  imperial  Rome — an  organization  so  august  that  the  very  tradition  of  it 
 could  serve  the  later  world  to  live  by  for  a  thousand  years.     The  Christian 
 Church  renewed    the  spell  of  imperial  Rome,  and  brought  actual  force  to 
 make  good  intellectual  weakness.     And  so  we  read  that  the  Mithraic  wor- 
 ship was  by  Christian   i)hysical  force  suppressed  in  Rome  and  Alexandria, 
 about  the  end  of  the  fourth  century.^     Complete  suppression,  of  course, 
 could  not  be  so  accomplished  ;  and  Mithraic  usages  long  survived.     Even 
 in   the  eighth  century  we   find  Church  councils  commanding  proselytes 
 no  more  to  pay  worship  to  fanes  and  rocks  ;  •'   and  there  were  other  sur- 
 vivals.'     IJut  that  was  a  trifle  compared   to  the  actual  survival  of  Mithraic 
 symbols  and  rites  in  the  very  worship  of  Christ.     As  to  the  sacrifice  of  the 
 lamb   we   have  seen  ;  and  though,  at  the  end  of  the  seventh  century,  a 
 general  council  ventured  to  resist  the  general  usage  of  picturing  Christ  as 
 a  lamb,  the  veto  was  useless  ;  the  symbol  survived.     Some  Mithraic  items 
 went,  but  more  remained.     The  Cliristian  bishop  went  through  a  ceremony 
 of  espousing  the  Church,  following  the  old  mystery  in  which  occurred  the 
 formula,    "  Hail  to  thee,  new  spouse  ;  hail,  new  light."  ^     His  mitre  was 
 called  a  crown,  or  tiara,  which  answered  to  the  headdress  of  Mithra  and 
 the  Mithraic  priests,  as  to  those  of  the  priests  of  Egypt ;  he  wore  red  mili- 
 tary boots,  now  said  to  be  "  emblematical  of  that  spiritual  warfare  on  which 
 he  had  entered  "  ;  in  reality,  doubtless  borrowed  from  the  military  worship 
 of  Mithra,  dear  to  the  first  Christian  emperor.     And  the  higher  mysteries 
 of  communion,  divine  sacrifice,  and  resurrection,  as  we  have  seen,  were  as 
 much  Mithraic  as  Christian  ;  so  that  a  Miihraist  could  turn  to  the  Christian 
 worship  and  find  his  main  rites  unimpaired,  lightened  only  of  the  burden 
 
 '   History  of  Latin  Christianity,  3rd  ed.,  i.  36. 
 
 -  Jerome,  Epist.  cvii.  ad LiEtam  (iVIigne,  xxii.,  col.  869);  Socrates,  Ec.  Hist.,  B.  v., 
 c.  16. 
 
 3  "  Nullus  Christianus  ad  fana,  vel  ad  Petras  votas  reddere  prsesumat,"  Indie.  Paga- 
 niarujH  in  Consilio  Leptincnsi,  ad  ann.  Christ.  743  ;   cited  by  Bryant,  Analysis,  i.  294. 
 
 *  See  note  by  Mosheim  on  Cud  worth,  Harrison's  ed.,  i.  47S. 
 
 *  Firmicus,  xx. 
 
214  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  initiative  austerities,  stripped  of  the  old  obscure  mysticism,  and  with  all- 
 things  turned  to  the  literal  and  the  concrete,  in  sympathy  with  the  waning  of 
 knowledge  and  philosophy  throughout  the  world.     The  Mithraic  Christians 
 actually  continued  to  celebrate  Christmas  Day  as  the  birthday  of  the  sun, 
 despite  the  censures  of  the   Pope.^     When   they  listened  to  the  Roman 
 litany  of  the  holy  name  of  Jesus,  they  knew  they  were  listening  to  the  very 
 epithets  of  the  sun-god — god  of  the  skies,  purity  of  the  eternal  light,  king 
 of  glory,  sun  of  justice,  strong  god,  father  of  the  ages  to  come,  angel  of 
 great  counsel.     'I'heir  priests  had  been  wont  to  say  that  "  he  of  the  cap  " 
 was   "himself  a  Christian.'"-     They  knew  that  the   good  shepherd  was  a 
 name  of  Apollo;-'  that  Mithra,  like  Hermes  and  Jesus,  carried  the  lamb^ 
 on  his  shoulders  ;  that  both  were  mediators,  both  creators,  both  judges  of 
 the  dead  ;  that  the  chief  mysteries  of  the  two  cults  were  the  same.     Their 
 mystic  rock,  Petra,  was  presented  to   them   in   the  concrete  as  the  rock 
 Peter,  the  foundation  of  the  Church.     Their   solar  midnight  worsliip   was 
 preserved   in  midnight  services,  which  carried  on   the  purpose  of  the  mid- 
 night meetings  of  the  early  Christians,  who  had  simply  followed   Essenian, 
 Egyptian,   and    Mithraic  usage  ;   there  being   no  basis  for  the  orthodox 
 notion  that   these  secret  meetings  were  due  to  fear  of  persecution.     Their 
 inizd,  or  sacred   cake,  was  copied  in   the  mass,  which  probably  copied  the 
 very  name.^     And  whereas   the  religion  of  Alitlira  had  only  indirectly  and 
 mystically  provided  for  that  human  instinct  which  made  the  great  goddess- 
 worships*"  of  antiquity,  Christianity  appealed  to  it  directly  and  concretely, 
 taking  from  an  older  faith  the  very  image  of  Isis  the  virgin,  carrying   her 
 babe  in  her  arms,  as  Alitta,  the  Syrian  goddess,  had  done  ; "  taking  from 
 the  temples  of  Paganism  the  very  statues  of  black  basalt  which  rejjresented 
 Jsis,  and  calling  them  by  the  name  of  Maria ;  *'  just  as,  by  the  same  law  of 
 assimilation,  the  Pagan  faith  in  multitudinous  local  deities  was  conciliated 
 and  re-established  by  the  institution  of  a  multitude  of  miracle-working  and 
 prayer-hearing  saints,  as  well  us  of  locally  miraculous  shrines  of  the  virgin. 
 
 '  .See  the  sermons  of  Saint  Leo,  xxii.  6,  cited  by  Dupuis  and  Havet,  and  by  Gieseler, 
 Compend.  of  lie.  Hist.  I*.  Enj;.  trans.,  1846,  ii.  43.  (Jtliers  than  Mithraists,  of  course, 
 would  offend,  Cliiistmas  being  an  Osirian  and  Adonisian  festival  also.  Maciobius,  iiatui- 
 ttaiid,  i.  18. 
 
 ^  Augustine  in  Joli.  i.,  Dis.  7  ;  cited  in  King,  Gnostics,  p.  119. 
 
 ^  Macrobius.  Satiirmilia,  i.  17. 
 
 *  Or  the  bull.  See  Lajard's  "Atlas,"  I'l.  .\cii.  ;  and  Garucci,  as  cited.  It  is  now 
 generally  admitted  that  the  Christian  figure  of  the  lamb-bearing  Good  Shepherd  is  taken 
 from  the  statues  of  Hermes  Kiioplioros,  the  Rambearer  (I'ausanias,  iv.  11).  But  sec  also 
 Jastro\v"s  Talnuulic  Diet.  s.v.  23"in. 
 
 *  King,  tjnostics,  p.   124,  following  Seel. 
 
 ^  Vet  there  are  signs  of  combination  of  Milhraism  with  the  goddess  cults  of  the  Empire. 
 Eunapius  (cited  in  edit,  note  on  llamnier-rurgstall,  Milhriuca,  j).  22)  represents  the 
 same  i)riest  as  hieropliant  of  llie  Eleusinia,  and  lather  of  the  initiation  of  Mithra;  and 
 A])ulLius  (Melamor])hoses,  B.  xi.— Bohn's  ed.,  pp.  238,  241,)  speaks  of  "the  priest 
 Mithras,"  in  the  mysteries  of  Isis.  Again  we  find  Mithra  identified  with  Sebazius,  son 
 of  the  I'hrygian  Cybclc  (Garucci,  ''  Mystbis"  pp.  14,  18;  I'reller,  Konunlic  Mytholoi;i<:, 
 p.  76 1). 
 
 '<  Sec  the  figure  in  Layard.  Disc,  in  the  Ruins  of  Nin.  and  Bab.,  1853  p.  477  ;  copied 
 in  Rawlinson's  Herodotus,  i.  257. 
 
 *  King,  Gnostics,  p.  173. 
 
MITHRAISM.  215 
 
 A\^e  are  taught  that  at  that  era  the  world  entered  on  a  new  way  of  life  and 
 of  philosophy,  breaking  wholly  with  the  past.  Exiiiabilis  siiperstitio ! 
 This,  too,  is  folly. 
 
 It  has  chanced,  indeed,  that  those  Christian  sects  which  most  fully 
 adopted  the  theosophies  of  Paganism'  have  disappeared  under  the  con- 
 trolling power  of  the  main  organization,  wliich,  as  I  have  said,  held  by  a 
 necessity  of  its  existence  to  a  concrete  and  literal  system,  and  for  the  same 
 reason  to  a  rigidly  fixed  set  of  dogmas.  We  know  tliai  the  Gnostics 
 adopted  Mithra,  making  his  name  into  a  mystic  charm,  from  whicli  (spell- 
 ing it  M€i6'/Ki9)  they  got  the  number  365,  as  from  the  mystic  name  Abraxas.* 
 The  more  reason  wliy  Mithras  should  be  tabooed  by  the  organized  Church. 
 Thus,  then,  you  can  understand  why  the  very  name  seemed  at^  length  to 
 be  blotted  out.  Tiiere  were  in  antiquity,  we  know,^  quit€  a  number  of 
 elaborate  treatises  setting  forth  the  religion  of  Mithra;  and  every  one  of 
 these  has  been  destroyed  by  the  care  of  the  Church.'^  And  yet,  despite  all 
 forcible  suj)pression,  not  only  do  the  monuments  of  the  faith  remain  to  tell 
 how  tor  centuries  it  distanced  its  rival ;  not  only  do  its  rites  and  ceremonies 
 remain  as  part  of  the  very  kernel  of  the  Christian  worship ;  but  its  record 
 remains  unknowingly  graven  in  the  very  legend  on  the  lintel  of  the  great 
 Christian  temple  of  Rome,'^"destined  to  teach  to  later  times  a  lesson  of 
 lunnan  history,  and  of  the  unity  of  human  religion,  more  enduring  than  the 
 sectarian  faith  that  is  proclaimed  within. 
 
 *  Wiiulisclimann,  S.  59,  citing  Jciome,  ///  Amos,  c.  3. 
 
 '^  Porphyry,  On  Abstinence  from  Animal  Kood,  iv.  16,  and  elsewhere. 
 
 ^  It  is  remarkable  tiiat  even  the  treatise  of  hirmicus  is  mutilated  at  a  passage  (v.) 
 where  he  seems  to  be  accusing.  Christians  of  following  Mithraic  usages  ;  and  at  the  begin- 
 ning, where  he  may  have  made  a  similar  proposition. 
 
 *  "  Tiiou  art  I'etros,  and  upon  tliis  Kock  I  will  build  My  Church." 
 
THE    RELIGION    OF    THE    ANCIENT   GREEK 
 
 AND    LATIN    TRIBES. 
 
 By  the  Rev.  Sir  George  W.  Cox,  Bart.,  M.A, 
 
 If  we  limit  the  term  religion  to  the  direct  relations  of  each  individual  man 
 with  God  the  Father  of  all  men,  it  follows  of  necessity  that  that  religion 
 must  be  something  altogether  distinct  from  mythology.  But  whether  the 
 religion  of  Greeks,  two  or  three  thousand  years  ago,  can  be  sharply  and 
 definitely  severed  from  the  mythology  which  they  have  bequeathed  to  us, 
 is  a  question  which  calls  urgently  for  an  answer.  No  doubt  it  is  quite 
 possible  that  the  swineherd  Euraaios  in  the  Odyssey  may  have  had  but  a 
 very  imperfect  acquaintance  with  the  mythical  stories  of  his  age,  and  might 
 have  passed  a  poor  examination  in  the  intricacies  of  the  Olympic  theogony  ; 
 but  would  this  prove  anything  more  than  the  fact  that  he  was  living  in  a 
 world  removed  far  away  from  what  we  might  call  the  religious  activity  of 
 his  time  ?  When,  with  his  mind  full  of  the  iniquities  of  the  suitors,  he  tells 
 Odysseus  that  there  are  just  gods  who  hate  cruel  deeds  and  honour  jus- 
 tice and  righteous  works,  he  is  making  use  of  language  which  is  free  both 
 from  myth  and  from  metaphor.  The  metaphor  comes  in  when  the 
 Hesiodic  poet  speaks  of  the  all-seeing  and  all-knowing  eye  of  Zeus;  but  it 
 is  metaphor  of  a  sort  which  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  avoid,  and  against 
 which  it  is  therefore  useless  for  us  to  fight,  ^\'e  might  bring  together  many 
 utterances  of  a  like  spirit  and  form  ;  but  in  what  sense  could  we  say  that 
 they  represented  the  religion  of  the  times  to  which  the  speakers  belonged  ? 
 To  whatever  extent  we  might  carry  our  selections,  we  should  still  be  deal- 
 ing with  the  thoughts  or  the  yearnings  of  individual  minds  ;  but  we  should 
 be  as  far  off  as  we  were  at  starting  from  that  which  was  supposed  to  be 
 religion  in  any  human  society  of  the  time. 
 
 The  fact  is,  that  in  one  sense  we  may,  and  in  another  we  may  not,  draw 
 distinctions  between  the  religion  of  a  j)eople  and  their  mythology.  It  is 
 true,  from  one  i)oint  of  view,  to  say  that  the  religion  of  (ireeks  of  the  age 
 of  Solon,  or  any  other,  did  not  consist  simply  in  the  fables  told  of  Phoebus 
 or  Dionysos,  or  other  deities  ;  but  it  is  ecjually  true  to  say  that  the  fables 
 constituted  the  outer  framework  of  all  the  Greek  theological  systems.  In 
 dealing  with  this  question,  we  are  always  in  danger  of  proving  too  much. 
 \\'e  can  always  select  expressions  of  faith  uncoloured  by  the  language  of 
 mythology,  and  these  expressions  may  have  come  from  persons  very 
 slenderly   acquainted   with  the  details  of  myths.      We  may  say  that  by 
 
 3l6 
 
GREEK  AND  LATIN  RELIGIONS.  217 
 
 religion  wc  mean  "  our  trust  in  one  all-wise,  all-powerful,  eternal  Being,  the 
 Ruler  of  the  world,  to  whom  we  commit  all  our  cares,  and  whose  presence 
 we  feel  not  only  in  the  outward  world,  but  also  in  the  warning  voice  within 
 our  hearts  "  ;  and  we  may  maintain  that  of  this  religion  alone  was  the  Greek 
 poet  thinking  when  he  expressed  his  longing  for  that  perfect  purity  of  word 
 and  deed,  the  law  of  which  can  never  change  or  fail.  We  may  speak  of 
 this  as  religion  "  ancient,  primitive,  and  natural  "  ;  but  we  can  reach  the 
 same  religion  through  the  complicated  forms  or  schemes  of  any  theology 
 which  the  world  has  ever  known.  In  so  speaking,  the  majority  will,  in  one 
 sense,  agree  with  us.  In  another  they  will  not ;  and  the  differences  be- 
 tween Christian  majorities  and  those  of  the  old  Hellenic  or  Egyptian 
 worlds  are  not  wide.  To  the  assertion  of  those  universal  thoughts  or  con- 
 victions they  will  listen  approvingly,  until  they  see,  or  fancy  that  they  see, 
 a  disposition  to  attack  through  them,  and  by  their  aid,  the  body  of  techni- 
 cal propositions  to  which  also  they  give  the  name  religion.  If  any  real 
 ground  should  be  furnished  for  this  suspicion,  the  speakers  will  soon  be 
 informed  that  their  primitive  and  natural  religion  is  altogether  insufficient  ; 
 that  religion  cannot  exist  apart  from. its  historical  framework;  that  of  the 
 events  with  which  it  is  bound  up,  some  are  truths  as  well  as  facts  ;  and  that 
 the  reality  of  this  framework  is  vouched  for  by  a  long  series  of  marvellous 
 incidents  recorded  in,  or  handed  down  by,  ancient  traditions. 
 
 In  truth,  we  are  making  no  advance  so  long  as  we  continue  in  this  path. 
 There  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that  a  wary  antl  careful  examination  would 
 draw,  even  from  the  most  bigoted  of  inquisitors,  confessions  of  a  funda- 
 mental faith,  as  simple  as  that  of  Eumaios  or  Nausikaa  in  the  Odyssey;  and 
 so,  if  we  choose  to  do  so,  we  may  say  that  in  the  acknowledgment  of  these 
 truths  all  mankind,  or,  at  the  least,  all  civilized  men,  are  agreed.  No  doubt 
 the  same  admissions  would  have  been  made  by  the  accusers  of  Socrates. 
 Of  this  great  thinker  it  may  be  said  that  he  was  fond  of  using  language 
 much  in  harmony  with  that  of  Eumaios;  but  his  words  were  not  accepted 
 by  his  accusers  as  covering  the  whole  field  of  religion,  or  as  furnishing  any 
 adequate  description  of  the  thing.  He  might  speak  of  the  Divine  goodness 
 as  that  of  which  mankind  were  designed  to  be  partakers  ;  but  this  did  not 
 save  him  from  the  charges  of  rejecting  the  gods  worshipped  at  Athens,  and 
 of  introducing  and  setting  up  in  their  place  new  deities  of  his  own. 
 
 This  state  of  things  can  be  paralleled  in  any  age  ;  it  can  be  paralleled 
 with  singular  exactness  in  our  own,  and  it  is  important  to  note  how  closely 
 the  comparison  holds  good.  At  Athens,  in  the  time  of  Socrates,  we  have, 
 on  the  one  side,  a  direct  and  immediate  trust  in  an  all-powerful  and  all- 
 holy  God,  who  is  bringing  about  the  good  of  all  His  creatures;  and,  on  the 
 other,  a  system,  more  or  less  technical  or  organized,  which  challenges 
 acceptance  on  the  ground  of  an  external  authority.  To  both  of  these  we 
 give,  or  may  give,  the  name  of  religion  ;  but  the  adherents  of  the  authori- 
 tative or  traditional  system  will  assuredly  withhold  the  name  from  the 
 simpler  faith,  so  soon  as   they  have  reason  for  thinking  that   the  authority 
 
2i8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  the  traditional  system  is  likely  to  be  impugned.  We  have  before  us  the 
 same  contrasts  still.  Thinkers  who  may  be  disposed  to  follow  the  example 
 of  Socrates  will  be  apt  to  say  that  Cliristiaiiity  and  the  teaching  of  the 
 Sermon  on  the  Mount  are  convertible  terms,  and  that  if  this  be  not 
 Christianity  as  a  whole,  it  is  useless  to  search  for  it  elsewhere.  But  wdth 
 such  a  judgment  as  this  the  adlierents  of  traditional  schools  will  have 
 nothing  to  do.  The  simple  truths,  they  will  say,  are  undoubtedly  truths, 
 and  it  may  be  well  to  insist  on  them  in  their  proper  place  ;  but  their  sphere 
 is  a  very  narrow  one,  and  it  is  the  technical  system  which  cliallenges  our 
 obedience  at  tlie  risk  of  irretrievable  and  endless  ruin  if  we  question  it  or 
 reject  it.  But,  briefly,  this  theory  expresses  itself  in  the  proposition  that 
 what  are  called  the  cardinal  dogmas  or  truths  of  Christianity  are  also  his- 
 torical events,  and  therefore  that,  if  any  doubt  or  deny  these  events,  they 
 have  no  right  to  the  title  of  Christians,  and  are  in  fact  traitors  and  apos- 
 tates. Tiie  statement  assumes  the  form  of  a  dilemma.  Either  the  events 
 on  which  Christianity  is  said  to  rest  took  i)]ace,  or  Christianity  itself  is 
 mere  falsehood,  'i'he  reply  that  the  terms  used  to  designate  these  events 
 are  words  denoting  spiritual  and  eternal  truths  or  entities,  is  dismissed 
 with  the  retort  that  such  fancies  are  purely  visionary  and  unpractical,  and 
 that  the  average  of  mankind  are  wholly  incapable  of  rising  to  such  intellec- 
 tual heights  as  these.  That  the  traditional  apologists  have  an  immense 
 advantage  in  their  organization,  in  the  completeness  of  their  system,  and 
 in  their  numbers,  there  can  be  no  question  ;  and  the  same  facts  confront 
 us  in  the  trial  and  condemnation  of  Socrates. 
 
 For  practical  purposes  it  is,  therefore,  useless  to  define  religion  as  a 
 confession  of  certain  ])riniary  truths,  in  reference  to  which  all  mankind,  or 
 all  civilized  mankind,  are  agreed.  Whatever  it  may  be  in  itself,  we  must 
 make  the  term  include  all  the  acts,  observances,  and  ceremonies  by  which 
 any  body,  or  bodies,  of  men  choose  to  approach,  or  think  that  they 
 ajjproach,  certain  unseen  beings  with  whom  they  suppose  themselves  to 
 liave  a  certain  relation.  These  usages  may,  or  may  not,  imply  the  reality 
 of  particular  incidents  in  the  history  of  the  i)ast.  They  most  assuredly 
 will  do  so  when  the  system  has  acquired  wide  acceptance  and  authority  ; 
 but  vvc  may,  perhaps,  be  able  to  go  back  beyond  them  to  a  time  when 
 such  historical  beliefs  were  still  things  of  the  future.  We  can  do  so  to  a 
 large  extent  with  both  the  Greek  and  the  Latin  tribes  of  the  ancient  world. 
 As  we  approach  the  time  of  contemporary  historians,  we  find  that  these 
 tribes  have  reached  highly  complicated  social  conditions  which  it  is  as 
 necessary  as  it  is  dilhcult  for  us  to  understand;  and  these -conditions  are 
 essentially  religious. 
 
 In  the  Hellenic  world  we  find  everywhere  the  polls,  or  city,  as  the 
 final  unit  of  society  ;  but  the  polls  is  merely  the  result  of  an  aggregation 
 of  tribes  ifliyhxl),  and  the  tribes  again  spring  simply  from  a  union  of 
 phnitrlal,  or  clans,  which,  in  their  turn,  represent  gatherings  of  houses  or 
 lamilies,   the   Greek  ycVos,  the  Latin  ge/is.     We   find  that  all  these,   in- 
 
GREEK  AND  LATIN  RELIGIONS.  219 
 
 eluding  the  polis,  are  religious  societies,  arid  that  the  subordinate  fellow- 
 ships are  religious  with  on  intensity  scarcely  to  us  conceivable.  Into  the 
 polis  other  elements  have  entered,  counteracting  some  of  the  principles 
 which  have  full  i)lay  in  the  tribes,  the  clans,  and  therefore,  of  course,  still 
 more  in  the  house  or  famil)-.  It  is,  then,  on  the  primeval  Greek,  house 
 that  we  have  to  fix  our  attention,  if  we  wish  to  trace  the  forms  and  see  the 
 full  significance  of  the  religion,  or,  it  may  be,  religions,  which  established 
 themselves  in  the  Hellenic  worUl.  We  must  take  the  facts  as  they  come 
 before  us,  not  venturing  to  reduce  them  to  a  consistency  for  the  proof  of 
 which  we  may  lack  adequate  evidence,  and  not  forgetting  that  the  religion 
 of  one  Greek  polis,  or  city,  might  differ  indefinitely  from  the  religion  of 
 any  other. 
 
 We  are  quite  safe  in  saying  that,  the  further  we  go  back,  the  more  we 
 see  before  us  a  picture  of  savage  and  fierce  exclusiveness,  and  that  the 
 various  stages  in  the  development  of  the  polls  show  the  check  and  curb 
 put  on  the  more  brutal  instincts  which  mark  the  life  of  the  primitive  Greek 
 or  Latin  family.  The  growth  of  the  polis,  therefore,  means  the  handling 
 of  materials  which  yielded  for  the  most  part  a  stubborn  resistance.  In 
 other  words,  the  materials  out  of  which  States  have  been  formed  are  not 
 those  which  the  State  would  have  desired  as  the  most  suitable  instruments 
 for  doing  its  work.  Thus  the  house  carries  us  back  to  a  time  when  we 
 may  fairly  say  that  the  influence  or  existence  of  any  religion  is  scarcely 
 discernible  ;  and  we  have  to  ask  how  the  family  life  of  Greeks  or  Latins 
 came  to  assume  forms  which  seemed  to  place  an  impassable  barrier  in  the 
 way  of  the  development  of  the  State,  and  also  of  the  elaborate  and  com- 
 l)licated  systems  of  later  religions.  In  examining  the  earlier  conditions  of 
 human  society,  historians  and  political  economists  have  been  ajit  to  put 
 effects  for  causes;  and  this  is  just  what  we  do  when  we  say  ihat  in  the 
 ancient  world  community  of  place  could  no  more  convert  aliens  into  citi- 
 zens, than  it  could  change  domestic  beasts  into  men  ;  that  in  it  property 
 was  derived  from  political  rights,  and  not  political  rights  from  property. 
 But  why  should  it  be  so?  and  how  are  these  difficulties  explained  by  say- 
 ing that  particular  races  worshipped  particular  gods,  and  in  a  particular 
 manner,  when  tlie  very  point  which  we  have  to  determine  is  why  these 
 things  sliould  be  so  ?  We  are  told  that  in  the  ancient  society  the  mixture 
 of  persons  of  different  race  in  the  same  commonwealth  tended  to  confuse 
 all  the  relations  of  life,  and  all  men's  notions  of  right  and  wrong.  But 
 what  we  wish  to  know,  and  what  we  must  know,  is  how  or  why  notions  of 
 right  and  wrong,  liable  to  be  so  disturbed,  should  have  come  into  existence. 
 What  was  the  reason  for  that  prohibition  of  inter-marriage,  which  we  are 
 told  was  a  fatal  hindrance  to  the  development  of  national  life  ?  Why  was 
 an  Athenian  citizen  an  alien  on  reaching  Corinth,  although  he  was  not  a 
 foreigner  ?  Whence  came  the  patria  potesias  of  the  old  Roman  law, 
 which  was  unquestionably  the  power  of  life  and  death,  residing  in  the 
 master  or  lord,   over  all  the   members  of  the  family  ?     Why  should  exile 
 
220  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 have  been  regarded  as  an  adequate  recompense  for  the  crimes  of  the  worst 
 offenders  ? 
 
 The  explanation  is,  after  all,  a  simple  one.  The  original  Hellenic  or 
 Latin  house  was  strictly  what  the  den  is  to  the  wild  beast  which  dwells  in 
 it, — something,  namely,  to  which  he  only  has  a  right,  and  which  his  mate 
 and  oftspring  share  by  his  sufferance,  but  which  nothing  else  may  enter 
 except  at  the  risk  of  life.  This  utter  isolation  of  the  earlier  home  is  con- 
 clusively proved  by  social  conditions,  which  we  find  existing  in  historical 
 times.  It  could  not  have  acquired  its  inviolable  religious  character  had 
 it  not  been  held  as  a  stronghold  of  the  family  long  before  the  religious 
 sanction  came  to  be  recognised  and  enforced.  Among  the  Greek,  as 
 among  the  Latin  tribes,  every  house  was  a  fortress,  carefully  cut  off  by  its 
 precinct  from  every  other.  No  party  walls  might  join  together  the  posses- 
 sions of  different  families  ;  no  plough  might  break  the  neutral  ground  which 
 left  each  abode  in  impenetrable  seclusion.  The  curse  attached  to  the 
 removal  of  a  neighbour's  landmark  was  itself  the  growth  of  a  later  age 
 which  had  begun  to  invest  with  the  sanction  of  law  the  savage  instinct 
 which  in  earlier  times  had  trusted  to  mere  brute  force;  and  in  its  turn  the 
 special  boundary-god  of  each  household  gave  place  to  a  common  deity 
 which  guarded  the  boundaries  of  the  whole  community.  But  the  Latin 
 myth  is  careful  to  tell  us  that  the  Roman  Terminus  was  a  power  too 
 miglity  to  be  assailed  even  by  the  Capitoline  Jupiter  ;  and  in  this  tale  we 
 have  the  evidence  that  the  notion,  of  which  Terminus  was  the  embodiment, 
 was  far  older  than  the  religion  of  which  Jupiter,  Zeus-Pater,  the  All-father, 
 was  the  necessary  expression.  The  conception  of  Zeus  Herkeios  and 
 Zeus  Ephestios,  who  guard  the  fences  and  the  hearth  of  a  house,  is, 
 therefore,  also  older  than  that  of  Zeus  the  Father ;  and  these  two  deities 
 are,  in  fact,  generalizations  for  a  multitude  of  deities  who  presided  each 
 over  his  own  scanty  domain,  the  representatives  of  the  isolated  being 
 who  had  once  guarded  his  den  against  all  invaders.  From  this  condition 
 of  life  there  would  have  been  no  emergirg  had  the  impulse  not  been  given 
 by  what  we  must  call  the  growth  of  religion.  The  impulse  came  from  the 
 belief  in  the  continuity  of  human  life.  It  is  useless  to  ask  if  this  belief 
 existed  from  the  first.  Of  actual  origins,  it  must  be  freely  confessed  that 
 we  know  nothing.  All  that  we  can  say  is,  that  when  we  look  on  the 
 pictures  of  ancient  life,  so  far  as  we  can  trace  them,  the  belief  is  there  ;  and 
 according  to  this  belief  the  owner  of  the  den  had  not  ceased  to  live  because 
 he  was  dead.  He  felt  the  wants,  the  pleasures,  and  the  pains  of  his  former 
 life.  His  rights  of  proi)erty  were  in  no  way  changed,  while  his  power  to 
 do  harm  (if  he  chose  to  do  harm)  was  greater  than  it  had  been.  He  was 
 not  less  the  lord  of  his  house,  and  he  had  the  further  title  to  reverence  that 
 he  was  now  the  object  of  its  worship,  its  god.  The  result  would  be  a 
 development  of  the  horrid  rites  which  accompanied  what  we  term  Chthonian 
 worshi]).  As  he  would  still  need  to  hunt,  to  eat,  and  to  sleep,  his  horse, 
 his  cook,  and  his  wife   must  be  despatched  to  bear  him  company  in  the 
 
GREIiK  AXD   LATIN  RELIGIONS.  221 
 
 unseen  world.  He  must  be  clothed,  and  therefore  the  costliest  raiment 
 must  be  offered  to  him,  and  consumed  by  fire,  as  in  the  Herodotean  story 
 of  Periander  and  Melissa.  The  religious  foundation  being  thus  firmly 
 laid,  the  superstructure  soon  assumed  the  form  of  a  systematic  and  well- 
 ordered  fabric.  If  the  departed  spirit  cannot  obtain  the  rest  which  it 
 needs,  it  will  wreak  its  vengeance  on  the  living.  But  it  cannot  rest  if  the 
 body  remain  unburied ;  and  this  last  office  can  be  performed  only  by  the 
 dead  man's  legitimate  representative — in  other  words,  by  his  eldest  son, 
 born  in  wedlock  of  a  woman  initiated  into  the  family  religion.  Thus,  as 
 the  generations  went  on,  the  living  master  of  the  house  ruled  simply  as  the 
 vicegerent  of  the  man  from  whom  he  had  inherited  his  authority  ;  that  is, 
 he  ruled  strictly  by  virtue  of  a  religious  sanction,  which  set  at  defiance  the 
 promptings  and  impulses  of  natural  affection.  His  wife  was  his  slave  ;  his 
 sons,  though  they  might  be  fathers  of  children,  were  absolutely  in  his 
 ])0\ver  ;  nor  could  his  death  bring  them  freedom,  for  then  they  became  the 
 subjects  of  their  elder  brother.  It  follows  that  the  master  of  each  house- 
 hold was  both  its  priest  and  its  king.  He  alone  could  offer  the  sacrifices 
 before  the  sacred  hearth  ;  and  in  the  worship,  which  he  only  could  con- 
 duct, no  one  who  was  not  a  member  of  the  family  could  take  parr,  as  the 
 lion's  cubs  alone  could  have  the  right  of  sharing  the  lion's  den.  The  in- 
 trusion of  a  stranger  was  profanation  ;  his  touch  in  the  act  of  worship  was 
 pollution.  Ikit  just  as  the  welfare  and  repose  of  the  dead  dei>ended  on 
 the  continuity  of  the  family,  so  for  the  father  of  the  family,  and  then  for  all 
 its  members,  marriage  became  a  duty.  If  the  natural  succession  failed,  the 
 remedy  lay  in  adoption  ;  but  this  adoption  was  effected  by  a  religious 
 ceremony  of  the  most  solemn  kind.  The  subject  of  it  renounced  his  own 
 family  and  the  worship  of  its  gods,  to  pass  to  another  hearth  and  to  the 
 worship  of  other  deities. 
 
 The  impulse  which  had  given  the  religious  sanction  to  the  family  could 
 not,  however,  stop  short  here  indefinitely.  As  serving  only  the  gods  of  his 
 own  recesses,  the  master,  father,  or  priest,  could  know  nothing  of  the  ritual 
 of  any  family  but  his  own  ;  nor  would  he  acknowledge  any  religion  linking 
 him  with  any  beyond  the  limits  of  his  own  household.  But  these  limits 
 were  e.xtended,  necessarily,  with  each  generation,  the  younger  sons  becom- 
 ing the  heads  of  new  families,  which  were  kept  in  strict  subordination  to 
 the  chief,  who  in  a  direct  line  represented  the  original  progenitor.  The 
 latter  thus  became  the  king  of  a  number  of  houses  or  a  clan.  The  same 
 blood  must  flow,  or  be  thought  to  tiow,  through  the  veins  of  every  member 
 of  these  houses,  and  they  must  worship  the  same  gods  with  the  same  cere- 
 monies. All  who  could  not  satisfy  these  conditions  were  aliens  or  enemies, 
 for  the  two  words  were  synonymous  ;  and  so  we  see  in  the  East  the  reli- 
 gious growth  of  caste,  in  the  West  the  rise  of  z.plebs  or  dietitele ;  and  beneatn 
 these  might  be  placed  the  serf,  the  helot,  or  the  slave.  But  the  plebeian, 
 not  less  than  the  slave,  was  separated  from  the  patrician  by  a  gulf  both 
 morally  and  physically  impassable  ;  and  thus  we  have  before  us  a  condition 
 
222  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  society  in  which  the  distinction  of  orders  was  based  absolutely  on 
 reh'gion.  In  other  words,  a  bitter  sting  was  imparted  to  the  differences 
 which  separate  man  from  man  ;  and  when  men  so  separated  from  the 
 patrician  or  ruling  houses  were  brought  together  within  the  limits  of  the 
 same  community,  there  followed  first  an  eupatrid  ascendency  based  on 
 theories  of  unapproachable  superiority,  and  then  the  long  conflicts  which 
 led  ultimately  to  the  ruin  of  Athens,  and  to  struggles  which  for  a  time 
 appeared  not  less  hopeless  at  Rome.  Both  at  Athens  and  at  Rome  the 
 admission  of  any  but  patricians  to  offices  of  state  was  regardetl  as  sacrilege, 
 as  a  direct  insult  to  the  majesty  of  the  gods.  The  efforts  of  what  we  call 
 the  liberal  statesmen  of  Athens  or  of  Rome  were  simply  directed  to  the 
 throwing  down  of  the  religious  barriers  designed  to  keep  the  non-patrician 
 classes  under  the  heel  of  those  who  claimed  an  inalienable  sovereignty. 
 These  chiefs  or  nobles  could  conceive  of  no  society  without  the  special 
 sanction  which  their  own  priesthood  could  alone  impart  to  it.  If  any  others 
 should  be  allowed  to  offer  these  sacrifices,  and  on  the  strength  of  this 
 privilege  to  share  their  powers  or  their  honours,  this  would  be  not  so  much 
 a  political  movement,  which  might  destroy  the  polls,  as  a  profanation  for 
 which  no  atonement  was  possible.  Step  by  step  were  these  religious 
 barriers  assailed,  and  inch  by  inch  were  the  points  at  issue  conceded  to 
 the  men  who  were  looked  upon  as  made  of  commoner  clay  than  the 
 members  of  the  eupatrid  houses. 
 
 Progress,  or  at  the  least  change,  there  must  be  in  all  earthly  things  ;  but 
 the  conditions  of  the  early  Greek  household  compelled  the  eupatrid  to 
 set  his  face  against  all  change  exce|)t  in  one  direction.  For  the  master 
 of  one  den  with  its  dependencies  there  could  be  no  alteration  of  circum- 
 stances except  by  alliance  with  the  master  of  another  class  ;  and  such 
 alliances  it  wouUl  in  course  of  time  be  impossible  to  avoid.  Thus  would 
 be  formed  a  eupatrid  body,  each  family  deriving  its  title  to  its  indefectible 
 religious  ascendency  from  the  founder,  who  by  his  death  had  become  its 
 god.  The  families  thus  united  were  committed  to  an  absolute  exclusive- 
 ness  which  treated  the  rest  of  mankind  as  the  dirt  beneatli  their  feet.  The 
 gulf  between  them  could  never  be  passed.  The  stranger  remained  a 
 stranger  for  ever.  The  members  of  the  old  Hellenic  tribes  were  beyond 
 doubt  closely  connected  by  ties  of  kindred  as  by  their  speech,  their  habits, 
 their  laws,  their  tastes,  and  their  occupations.  Yet  out  of  the  bounds  of 
 his  own  city  each  was  an  alien  who  had  no  proper  claim  to  the  protection 
 of  the  laws,  who  could  not  become  an  owner  of  land  in  a  soil  sacred  to 
 the  worship  of  gods  not  his  own,  and  who  could  not  inherit  from  the 
 citizens,  because  all  inheritance  implied  the  maintenance  of  a  particular 
 ritual,  and  this  maintenance  depended  strictly  upon  blood.  Only  in  his 
 own  state  then  (and  his  state  was  strictly  the  city)  could  he  live  under 
 the  protection  of  law,  that  is,  of  religion.  Anywhere  else  he  must  lead,  in 
 literal  strictness  of  speech,  an  utterly  godless  life.  Hence  the  sentence  of 
 banishment  became  a  punishment  more  terrible  than  that  of  death,  for  the 
 
GREEK  AND   LATIN  RELIGIONS.  223 
 
 banislied  man  was  wiped  out  from  his  family  and  from  the  worship  of  the 
 family  gods.  He  was  no  longer  husband  or  father,  and  liis  kinsfolk  were 
 free  to  act  as  though  he  had  never  lived. 
 
 We  have  now  no  difficulty  in  seeing  the  political  results  of  such  a 
 religious  system  as  this.  The  fiimily  might  in  the  course  of  a  dozen 
 generations  spread  out  into  a  clan  ;  the  alliance  of  clans  might  lead  to 
 the  formation  of  tribes,  and  the  aggregation  of  tribes  might  constitute  a 
 city  ;  but  here  the  course  of  natural  development  would  end.  The  eu- 
 patrid  would  never  risk  the  loss  of  his  religious  pre-eminence  by  admitting 
 non-eupatrids  to  share  his  privileges  in  the  state  ;  and  the  true  Greek  city 
 was  one  in  which  those  only  were  citizens  who  could  produce  the  eupatrid 
 title.  So  far  as  they  departed  from  this  type,  they  were  betraying  the 
 majesty  of  the  gods  and  profaning  their  worship.  In  only  one  Greek  city 
 perhaps,  can  it  be  said  that  this  type  was  deliberately  cast  aside,  and  that 
 another  tlieory  was  consciously  or  unconsciously  embraced  which,  if  un- 
 hindered, could  not  fail  to  scatter  the  old  exclusiveness  to  the  winds. 
 Such  a  development  was  begun  at  Athens,  and  if  it  had  not  been  arrested 
 it  would  have  altered  the  history  of  the  world.  A  (ireek  nation  never 
 existed;  but  Athens  set  out  on  a  path  which  led  logically  to  such  a  growth, 
 and  the  formation  of  her  maritime  confederacy  was  a  step  of  vital  import- 
 ance in  this  direction.  It  was  instinctively  felt  to  be  so  by  the  other  cities 
 for  whom,  apart  from  eupatrid  and  oligarchic  privilege,  life  was  not  worth 
 living.  It  was  this  great  question  which  brought  about  the  Peloponnesian 
 war;  and  it  was  the  triumph  of  the  adherents  of  the  old  religion  which  led 
 first  to  the  ascendency  of  the  Macedonian  kings  and  then  to  the  supremacy 
 of  Rome. 
 
 Here,  tlien,  we  have  a  religion  of  a  very  practical  sort,  which  made  the 
 isolation  of  classes  a  matter  of  faith  and  denounced  the  commingling  of 
 them  as  blasphemy,  which  fostered  feelings  of  suspicion  and  dislike  be- 
 tween the  members  of  different  states  even  in  times  of  peace,  and  inten- 
 sified indefinitely  all  the  horrors  of  war.  Each  war  became,  in  fact,  a 
 crusade,  and  the  conqueror  had  the  unquestioned  right  to  slay  all  whom 
 he  vanquished.  If  he  failed  to  exercise  tiiis  right,  it  was  only  because  he 
 preferred  to  make  a  profit  out  of  them  by  selling  or  keeping  them  as  slaves. 
 If  he  made  terms  with  the  enemy,  the  compact  went  for  nothing  if  any 
 technical  error  occurred  in  the  ritual  whicli  ratified  them.  The  Roman 
 never  accused  himself  of  treachery  in  his  treatment  of  the  Samnites  after 
 the  disaster  of  the  Caudine  Forks.  The  treaty  had  not  been  hallowed  by 
 the  blood  of  a  victim,  and  it  was  useless  to  appeal  to  the  good  faith  of 
 honourable  men.  The  conscience  lay  asleep  under  the  burden  of  techni- 
 calities. But  the  very  fact  of  the  expansion  of  the  house  into  the  clan,  of 
 the  clan  into  the  tribe,  and  of  the  tribe  into  the  city  put  limitations,  more 
 or  less  sensibly  felt,  on  the  principle  of  absolute  isolation  on  which  the  life 
 of  the  family  had  been  founded.  With  the  constitution  of  the  State  a  new 
 set  of  influences  were  brought  into  play  ;  but  the  State  at  first  could  do  no 
 
224  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD, 
 
 more  than  modify  tlie  rules  of  the  old  family  life  to  suit  its  own  purposes 
 and  to  work  out  its  ends  by  means  of  compromise.  No  temptation  was 
 felt  for  a  long  time  to  question  principles  which  had  their  sanction  from 
 religion.  To  propose  that  one  house  should  abandon  its  worship  and 
 adopt  that  of  another  house  in  its  stead,  would  have  been  at  once  an  act 
 of  impiety  and  of  madness.  But  it  might  be,  and  it  was,  possible  to  induce 
 a  number  of  houses  to  unite' in  the  common  worship  of  a  god  whom  they 
 jointly  chose  as  their  protector ;  and  these  societies  became  thus  grouped 
 in  a  society  capable  of  indefinite  expansion.  In  this  union  no  change  was 
 made  in  the  character  of  the  houses  themselves.  All  that  was  done  was 
 to  provide  a  common  ground  on  which  certain  families  might  meet  to  pro- 
 mote their  secular  interests.  Their  morality  continued  to  be  what  it  had 
 been — the  fruit  of  a  religious  belief  which  touched  neither  the  heart  nor 
 the  conscience.  Its  good  points  were  due  to  the  necessities  of  the  primi- 
 tive family  life,  not  to  conscious  perception  of  the  distinctions  between 
 moral  right  and  moral  wrong.  It  guarded  carefully  the  chastity  of  the 
 matron  of  the  house ;  but  it  did  so  because  the  violation  of  it  would  ren- 
 der the  worship  of  its  gods  a  mockery.  The  qualities  which  it  fostered 
 had  their  root  not  in  any  spontaneous  feeling  or  instinct,  but  simply  in  a 
 technical  discipline.  In  no  direction  could  the  member  of  an  ancient 
 household  turn  himself  without  being  confronted  by  external  restraints. 
 The  doing  or  not  doing  of  certain  acts  depended  not  on  the  sense  which 
 told  them  that  the  one  was  right  and  the  other  wrong,  but  on  the  fact  that 
 a  wolf  or  a  rabbit  had  crossed  their  path,  or  that  they  had  heard  a  crow 
 chatter,  or  seen  the  lightning  flash  on  one  side  rather  than  the  other.  Their 
 only  idea  of  the  gods  whom  they  worshipped,  that  is,  of  their  own  ancestors, 
 was  that  of  beings  who  retained  their  human  appetites  while  they  had 
 acquired  superhuman  power  and  perhaps  superhuman  malignity.  The  in- 
 tolerance, harshness,  and  cruelty  which  lay  at  the  root  of  the  old  family 
 life  were  not,  of  course,  confined  to  any  one  country.  These  priiiciples 
 may  be  traced  in  every  Aryan  land ;  and  all  that  can  be  said  is  that  if  a 
 comparison  of  Greeks  with  Romans  be  to  the  advantage  of  the  former,  it 
 is  at  the  cost  of  those  qualities  which  made  the  Roman  the  master  of  the 
 world.  In  both  alike  we  see  the  same  hard  and  unpitying  character;  in 
 both  we  can  trace  this  result  to  a  religion  which  proscribed  all  human 
 sympathy,  which  was  founded  on  fear,  and  had  its  natural  fruit  in  exclu- 
 siveness  and  cruelty. 
 
 The  development  of  the  ])hratria  had  not,  and  was  not  intended  to 
 have,  any  effect  on  the  religious  character  of  the  houses.  Rather,  the 
 constitution  of  the  phratria  was  not  less  directly  religious  than  that  of  the 
 family.  Each  house  retained  its  own  altar  and  its  own  worship,  and  each 
 phratry  or  group  of  families  had  a  common  altar  erected  in  honour  of  a 
 common  deity  who  was  supposed  to  be  more  powerful  than  the  deities  of 
 the  households  taken  sei)arately.  The  larger  societies  which  grew  out  of  the 
 union  of  phratries  had  each  its  own  territory,  the  fields  in  which  each  family 
 
GREEK  AND   LATIN  RELIGIONS.  225 
 
 had  its  burying  place,  with  the  common  ground  which  lay  between  the 
 several  landmarks  ;  but  the  principle  of  these  combinations  was  essentially 
 not  local,  and  so  the  dei)endents  of  those  houses  could  never  acquire 
 interest  or  possession  in  the  soil  on  which  they  lived,  laboured,  and  died. 
 At  best  they  might  be  suffered  to  retain  a  certain  portion  of  the  produce 
 on  condition  of  paying  the  rest  to  their  lord,  failure  in  this  payment  being 
 followed  by  their  reduction  to  personal  slavery. 
 
 The  primitive  religion  of  the  (ireek  tribes  is  thus  seen  to  be  an  instru- 
 ment of  enormous  power,  regulating  the  whole  life  of  every  member  of  the 
 Clreek  household,  and  affecting  the  subsequent  political  history  of  all  the 
 Hellenic  cities.  It  placed  a  seemingly  impassable  barrier  at  the  first  even 
 between  one  family  and  another,  and  suffered  only  by  compromise  the 
 union  of  houses  in  the  clan.  It  shut  off  these  dominant  houses  from  all 
 other  inhabitants  of  the  land  as  from  things  common  and  unclean,  and 
 made  slavery  the  inevitable  doom  of  the  conquered.  Acts  and  ceremonies 
 whicli  may  seem  to  us  purely  political  had  for  them  at  first  a  merely  re- 
 ligious meaning.  The  object  of  the  Roman  census  was  not  to  ascertain 
 the  number  of  the  citizens,  but  to  insure  first  the  attendance  of  every 
 citizen  at  the  lustration,  which  was  to  atone  for  all  previous  shortcom- 
 ings in  the  service  of  the  gods,  and,  still  more,  to  guard  against  the  intru- 
 sion of  strangers  whose  presence  would  de|)rive  that  lustration  of  all  its 
 efficacy.  Without  a  knowledge  of  the  will  of  the  gods,  obtained  by  augu- 
 ries or  omens,  or  in  any  other  way,  no  operations  of  war  could  be  under- 
 taken ;  nor  even  in  a  time  of  actual  war  could  any  battle  be  begun  until 
 the  signs  from  the  victims  slain  were  declared  to  be  satisfactory.  As  re- 
 ligion gave  to  the  father  or  lord  of  the  house  his  authority  and  power,  so 
 the  king,  who  came  into  existence  after  families  had  been  grouped  in  clans 
 and  clans  in  tribes,  was  consecrated  as  the  representative  of  the  master  or 
 progenitor,  while  all  other  magistrates  reflected  the  authority  of  the  king. 
 
 The  working  of  the  earliest  form  of  Greek  religion  is  thus  seen  with 
 sufficient  clearness  ;  and  thus  far  it  comes  before  us  as  a  religion  without 
 a  mythology.  Hiat  it  possessed  not  even  the  germs  of  a  mythology,  it 
 would  be  rash  to  affirm.  How  soon  the  sayings  out  of  which  myths  grew 
 may  have  gathered  round  the  names  of  the  founders  of  these  houses,  we 
 cannot  say.  The  historian  Hekataios  declared  that  he  could  trace  back 
 his  own  genealogy  in  the  sixteenth  degree  to  a  god;  and  there  is  no  reason 
 for  supposing  that  he  looked  upon  himself  as  Diogenes  or  Zeus-born.  We 
 may  conclude,  therefore,  that  by  the  god  he  meant  the  deified  progenitor 
 of  his  house ;  but  his  words  would  imply  that  the  interval  which  separated 
 him  from  that  progenitor  was  one  which  covered  the  greater  part  of  a  mil- 
 lennium ;  and  no  such  long  period  is  needed  for  even  the  full  development 
 of  mythological  systems.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  when  the  primitive 
 Hellenic  religion  comes  before  us  in  a  later  stage,  it  is  seen  to  be  con- 
 nected with  a  rich  growth  of  mythical  stories.  In  no  other  way  could  the 
 higher  forms  of  Greek  thought,  life,  and  art  have  been  brought  into  being. 
 
 VOL.    I.  Q 
 
226  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 Religion  in  its  earlier  form  had  led  in  some  sort  to  the  constitution  of  a 
 polis  or  city  ;  and  at  this  point  it  left  them,  we  may  say,  stranded.  It 
 Jaid  down  as  a  vital  principle  the  distinction  between  eupatrids  and  all 
 the  rest  of  mankind.  It  denounced  as  profanation  or  impiety  the  admis- 
 sion of  non-eupatrids  to  a  share  in  the  work  of  government ;  and  it  raised 
 its  voice  against  any  principles  or  theories  which  might  tend  to  group  cities 
 under  another  city,  as  families  were  grouped  into  clans  and  clans  into 
 tribes.  The  way  to  all  that  we  understand  by  national  union  was  thus 
 eftectually  barred  ;  and  if  the  lesson  had  been  learnt  with  the  same  com- 
 pleteness at  Athens  as  in  other  Greek  cities,  the  subsequent  history  of 
 Athens  would  have  exhibited  only  the  intellectual  stagnation  of  Sparta. 
 But  the  lesson  was  learnt  only  in  part.  The  attempt  to  set  aside  the  dis- 
 tinctions set  up  by  the  eupatrids  (or  oligarchs,  as  they  also  came  to  be 
 called)  was  soon  made  ;  and  happily  there  were  other  means  by  which  the 
 fellowship  interdicted  in  one  direction  was  realized,  to  whatever  extent,  in 
 another.  To  the  very  idea  of  national  union  their  eyes  were  utterly  blind, 
 and  even  statesmen  so  far-sighted  as  Themistocles  and  Pericles  worked 
 rather  in  obedience  to  a  political  instinct  than  from  any  distinct  conscious- 
 ness of  the  logical  results  to  which  their  action,  if  unchecked,  must  lead. 
 They  could  see  that  the  formation  of  the  Delian  confederacy  must  place 
 Athens  at  the  head  of  a  multitude  of  Hellenic  cities  ;  but  they  had  no 
 means  of  convincing  the  Hellenic  cities  that  Athens  would  not  on  that 
 account  be  depriving  them  of  anything  which  deserved  the  name  of  free- 
 dom, justice,  or  law. 
 
 Progress  in  this  direction,  then,  was  hopeless  ;  but  the  longing  for  union 
 of  some  sort  could  not  be  repressed  in  the  same  off-hand  fashion.  Much 
 as  they  might  dislike  or  fear  each  other  politically,  Spartans,  Corinthians, 
 Athenians  and  Argives  still  knew  that  they  were  Hellenes,  and  took  pride 
 in  the  fact.  Knowing  also  that  Persians,  Phenicians,  and  Gauls  were  not 
 Hellenes,  tl^ey  were  ready  to  acknowledge  their  kinship  with  each  other 
 while  they  Rooked  upon  the  rest  of  mankind  as  barbarians,  that  is,  as 
 speakers  of  unintelligible  languages.  The  bond  of  speech,  therefore,  was 
 one  influence  which  counteracted  the  centrifugal  tendencies  of  Greek 
 l)olitical  or  religious  feeling  ;  and  with  this  there  was  also  a  certain  Hel- 
 lenic character  which  may  be  broadly  described  as  national.  It  failed  to 
 combine  the  Hellenic  tribes  into  a  nation,  and  the  distinctions  involved  in 
 it  faded  off  in  some  cases  (as  with  Etolians  and  Acarnanians)  into  shades 
 scarcely  discernible  ;  but  it  was  nevertheless  easy  to  see  that  the  Persian 
 character  and  the  oriental  character  generally  was  one  thing,  and  that  the 
 Hellenic  character  was  another.  'I'o  the  Persian  the  human  body  was  a 
 thing  which  might  be  mutilated  or  insulted  at  his  will,  deprived  of  its 
 manhood,  disgraced  by  servile  i)rostrations,  and  offered  up  in  sacrifice  to 
 malignant  and  bloodthirsty  deities.  Knowing  nothing  of  these  abomin- 
 able usages,  the  Greek  rejoiced  to  look  upon  the  beauty  and  vigour  of  tlie 
 unclothed  body  ;  and  the  exhibition   of  this  form  in  games  of  strength 
 
GREEK  AND  LATIN  RELIGIONS.  227 
 
 and  skill  became,  through  the  great  festivals  of  the  separate  or  collected 
 tribes,  bound  up  intimately  with  his  religion.  It  is  on  these  points  of 
 marked  contrast  that  the  Spartan  as  well  as  the  Athenian  would  have  fixed 
 his  mind  on  being  asked  to  what  race  he  belonged.  In  their  games,  as 
 well  as  in  the  temples  which  grew  up  where  those  games  were  instituted, 
 the  Greeks  had  a  ground  of  fellowship  which  they  could  have  obtained  in 
 no  other  way ;  and  the  guardianship  of  those  temples  furnished  yet 
 another  bond  of  religious,  if  not  national,  union.  Of  these  great  games 
 or  festivals  some  were,  like  the  gatherings  of  Delos,  limited  to  a  certain 
 section  of  the  Greek  world  ;  to  others,  as  to  the  Olympian,  all  might  claim 
 admission  who  could  establish  their  right  to  bear  the  Hellenic  name. 
 
 ]jut  wiicn  we  come  to  these  festivals,  we  find  ourselves  in  a  system  in 
 which  religion   and  mythology  are  inseparably  blended, — nay,  rather,  in 
 which  the  mythology  is  the  religion.     The  gathering  at  Delos  was  strictly 
 in  honour  of  the  sun-god  Phoebus  Apollon,  and  the  worshippers  were  his 
 children.     The,  growth  of  the  myth,  or  rather  of  myths,  is  exhibited  in  the 
 so-called   Homeric  Hymn  to  Apollon.     At  first  sight  this  hymn  might  be 
 taken  as  a  song  in  honour  of  the  Delian  god  and  his  Delian   shrine  only. 
 In  reality  a  few  lines  are  all  that  we  have  about  Delos.     The  rest  of  the 
 hymn  must  have  been  composed  generations  or  ages  later  by  some  Del- 
 phian when  the  Parnassian  temple  had  risen  to  pre-eminent  greatness.     In 
 both  cases  the  story  speaks  for  itself.     We  see   before   us  the  deity  for 
 whom  it  is  as  impossible  to  remain  in  his  birthplace  as  it  is  impossible  for 
 him  not  to  return  to  it.     ^Ve  are  looking  at  the  daily  journey  of  the  sun. 
 Every  detail  heightens  the  force  of  the  picture.    The  joy  of  Leto  is  mingled 
 with  fear.     She  knew  that  the  unborn  child  would  be  a  being  of  mighty 
 j)ower,  and  she  dreaded  lest  he  should  despise  his  rocky  and  barren  birth- 
 place and  spurn  it  with  his  foot  into  the  sea.     It  remained  only  for  her 
 to  make  a  solemn  covenant  with  Delos  that  here  should  be  the  sanctuary 
 of  her  child  for  ever.     She  is  then  described  as  casting  her  arms  round  a 
 palm  tree  as  she  reclined  on  the  bank  of  Kynthos,  and  the  babe  leaped  to 
 life  and  light  as  the  earth  smiled  around  her.     The  nymphs  bathed  him  in 
 pure  water,  and  wrapping  him  in  a  glistening  robe,  fine  and  newly-wrought, 
 placed  a  golden  band  round  the  body  of  Chrysaor,  the  lord  of  the  golden 
 sword,  while  Thetis  touched  his  lips  with  the  food  and  the  drink  of  the 
 gods.     No    sooner  had   the    child  received  this    nourishment  than,   like 
 Vishnu  in  his  dwarf-incarnation  as  Hari,  he  was  endowed  with  an  irresist- 
 ible strength,  and  his  swaddling  bands  fell  off  from  him  like  flax,  as  he  de- 
 clared his  mission  of  teacliing  to  men  the  counsels  of  Zeus.     Then  began, 
 we  are  told,  the  journey  of  the  far-shooting  god,  whose  golden  hair  no  razor 
 should  ever  touch.     From  land  to  land  he  went,  delighting  his  eyes  with 
 the  beautiful  sights  of  grove-clad  hills  and  waters  running  to  the  sea.     The 
 historical  interest  of  this  hymn  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  points  to  a  time  when 
 this  festival  at  Delos  was  celebrated  with  a  magnificence  which  the  Lydian 
 and   Persian   conquests  grievously  impaired.      To    the  first  hymn-writer 
 
228  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Delos  is  the  abode  dear  above  all  others  to  the  lord  of  light ;  and  tliither 
 came  worshippers  whose  beauty  and  vigour  would  seem  to  be  beyond  the 
 touch  of  sickness,  pain,  or  death.  But  for  all  this,  in  Delos,  as  the  hymn- 
 writer  is  well  aware,  the  sun-god  cannot  stay.  All  that  he  can  say  is  that 
 he  never  fails  to  return  to  it  with  ever  fresh  delight.  But  for  both  the 
 hymn-writers  all  the  incidents  attending  his  birtli  and,  again,  his  journey 
 from  Delos  to  Pytho  or  Delphi  were  matters  of  veritable  history  ;  and  this 
 conviction  became  intensified  in  the  legends,  which  became  for  the  several 
 Hellenic  tribes  or  cities  the  charter  of  their  title  to  the  old  Hellenic  name. 
 Argives,  Athenians,  Thebans,  Megarians,  all  had  a  grave  story  to  tell,  and 
 each  told  it  with  a  profound  assurance  of  its  truth  as  historical  fact.  On 
 the  eve  of  tlie  battle  of  Phthia  tlie  men  of  Tegea  appealed  seriously  to  the 
 exploits  of  their  forefathers  in  the  days  of  Echemos  and  Hyllos,  and  the 
 Athenians  could  parry  their  claims  only  by  appealing  to  better  deeds  done 
 by  Athenians  at  the  same  time. 
 
 We  may  take  a  few  of  these  tribal   stories.     That   of  the  Argives  re- 
 counted the  deeds  of  Perseus,  who,  as  the  child  of  the  golden  shower,  is  one 
 of  the  many  virgin-born  deities  and  heroes  of  the  ancient  Greek,  or  rather 
 Aryan,  world,  and  who,  with  the  sword  of  the  Chrysaor   in  his   hand  and 
 the  sandals  of  the  nymphs  on  his  feet,  journeyed  away  to  the  land  of  the 
 gloaming,  and  there  by  a  stroke  of  his  weapon  brought  to  an  end  the  woes 
 of  the  mortal  Gorgon.     For  the  Argive  all  this  was  sober  historical  narra- 
 tive.    Of  the  deliverance  which  Perseus  wrought  for  Andromeda,   of  his 
 vengeance  on  Phineus  and  Polydektes,  and  of  his  triumphant  return  to  his 
 ancient  home  to  work  out  the  doom  of  Akrisios,  he  could  suffer  no  man 
 to  breathe  a  doubt.     With  not  less  confidence  the  Theban  told  the  story 
 of  Laios  and  Oidipous  from  the  day  when  the  babe  was  cast  forth  to  frost 
 and  heat  on  the  slopes  of  Kithairon  to  the  hour  when,  after  the  discomfi- 
 ture of  the  Sphinx  and  his  unwitting  offence  against  the  sanctities  of  law, 
 the  blinded  man  departed  on  the  wanderings  which  were  to  end  in  the 
 holy  grave  of  the  Erinyes.     The  Megarian  in  his  turn  told  of  the  marvel- 
 lous power  which  lay  in  the  purple  locks  of  King  Nisos  and  how  for  love 
 of  the  Cretan  Minos  Skylla  robbed  the  city  of  its  safeguard,  and  brought 
 on  herself  the  due  reward  of  her  treachery.     The  Athenian,  with  greater 
 pride,  could  speak  of  his  dragon-kings  Kekrops  and  Erechtheus,  of  the 
 sorrows  of  Prokris,  and  the  wrongs  done  to  the  beautiful  Aithra,  and  dwell 
 on  the  career  of  the  child  Theseus — how,  on  reaching  the  fulness  of  man- 
 hood, he  raised  the  great   stone,  and  taking  in  his  hand   the  sword  of 
 destiny,  proved,  like  the  Arthur  of  later  romance,  that  he  was  "  right  wise 
 born  a  king," — how  he  cast  in  his  lot  with  the  doomed  tribute-children, 
 and,  sailing  to  Crete,  trod  the  mazes  of  the  labyrinth  and  slew  the  Mino- 
 tauros.     The  Eolian   legend,   telling  of  the  impious  presumption   which 
 drew  down  on  Salmoncus  the  doom  of  Tullus  Hostilius  in  the  Roman 
 story,  related  also  how  his  daughter  Tyro  was  won  by  Zeus  Poseidon  on 
 the  banks  of  the  Enipcus  and  became  the  mother    of  Dioskouroi,  Pelias 
 
GREEK  AND  LATIN  RELIC  TONS.  229 
 
 and  Neleus, — how  these  her  children,  saved  from  death  like  Cyrus,  Romu- 
 lus and  Remus,  rescued  her  from  the  cruelty  of  the  iron-hearted  Sidero, — 
 how  I^-lias  reigned  in  Thessaly,  and  Neleus  made  for  himself  a  kingdom 
 in  Pylos, —  how  by  the  aid  of  Melampous  Bias  obtained  as  his  wife  the 
 beautiful  Pero,  the  daughter  of  Neleus, — how,  when  his  other  sons  had 
 been  slain  by  Herakles,  Nestor  still  remained  to  recount  his  exploits 
 against  the  Kentaurs  and  the  Lapithai, — and  how  his  descendants  going  to 
 Athens  ruled  there  as  kings  until  Kodros  shed  on  the  royal  name  so  great 
 a  lustre  that  none  henceforth  was  suffered  to  bear  the  title.  But  the  great 
 Eolian  race  included  also  the  lines  of  Kretheus,  Sisyphos,  and  Athamas  ; 
 and  each  of  these  had  its  own  ancestral  glories.  The  name  of  Admetos, 
 the  grandson  of  Kretheus,  is  linked  with  that  of  the  beautiful  Alkestis  and 
 the  story  of  her  death  and  resurrection,  while  in  the  fortunes  of  his  kinsman 
 lason  the  legend  passes  into  that  mighty  stream  of  mythical  history  which 
 widens  into  an  ocean  in  the  tale  of  the  war  for  Helen  before  Troy.  Another 
 branch  of  the  same  race  looked  back  to  Sisyphos,  whose  exploits  or  whose 
 crimes  doomed  him  to  endless  toil  with  the  rolling  stone,  while  the  tradi- 
 tions of  the  house  of  Athamas  told  the  tale  of  Phrixos  and  Helle,  and  thus 
 touched  the  Pan-Hellenic  myth  of  the  Argonautic  expedition.  So  for  the 
 Cretan  the  mythical  greatness  of  Minos  was  evidence  that  the  empire  of 
 Crete  had  once  reckoned  Athens  and  Megara  amongst  its  subject  cities. 
 
 The  serene  confidence  felt  by  the  several  tribes  or  races  thus  far  men- 
 tioned in  the  historical  trustworthiness  of  tiieir  narratives  is  a  fact  as 
 wonderful  as  it  is  important.  We  may  speak  of  the  conclusion  as  fully 
 proved  that  the  political  legends  of  Athenians,  Thebans,  Thessalians, 
 Spartans,  Argives,  move  in  tiie  same  charmed  circle  and  revolve  more  or 
 less  closely  round  the  same  magic  point, — this  centre  being  the  birth,  the 
 wanderings,  the  death,  the  uprising  of  the  lord  of  life  and  light,  the  daily 
 and  yearly  career  of  the  sun.  A  comparison  of  these  with  other  myths 
 has  established  not  only  the  closest  possible  connexion  between  them,  but 
 has  shown  that  Perseus,  Bellerophon,  Theseus,  Kephalos,  Herakles,  and 
 ApoUon  are  merely  different  forms  suggested  by  the  varying  aspects  and 
 features  of  the  great  central  figure  of  the  sun  from  which  they  all  spring. 
 We  may  be  perhaps  astonished  at  the  seeming  variety  of  action  and  inci- 
 dent in  these  stories ;  but  in  each  and  all  of  them  the  recurrence  of  the 
 same  imagery,  freshened  by  ingenious  modifications,  and  always  with  new 
 and  often  singularly  true  local  colouring,  is  not  less  remarkable.  The 
 very  names  occurring  in  these  religious  legends  have  a  significance  which 
 the  Greek  language  itself  interprets,  whenever  they  tell  us  of  the  great 
 heroes  whose  lives  run  in  the  same  magic  groove.  To  take  a  single  in- 
 stance, when  the  genealogy  of  Phthia  is  to  be  mingled  with  that  of  Elis,  it 
 is  Protogeneia  (the  earliest  dawn)  who  becomes  the  mother  of  Aethlios 
 (the  toiling  and  struggling  sun),  who  is  the  father  of  Endymion  Cthe  tired 
 sun  at  his  setting),  in  whose  child  Eurydike  we  see  again  the  morrow's 
 light  restored  to  its  former  brightness. 
 
230  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 11. 
 
 The  picture  which  has  been  drawn  of  the  primitive  religion  of  the  Greek 
 eupatrid  houses  is  one  which  appUes  equally  to  that  of  the  Latin  or  Roman 
 family  or  household.  It  is  the  picture  of  a  religion  which  regulated  the 
 whole  life  of  every  member  of  the  household,  and  surrounded  him  as 
 effectually  as  the  air  which  he  breathed,  saturating  him  with  principles  of 
 fierce  intolerance,  exclusiveness  and  hatred.  But  it  is  a  religion  which 
 seems  to  have  been  able  to  dispense  with  a  mythology,  or  which  at  all 
 events  furnished  no  materials  for  the  growth  of  myths,  until  the  clans  and 
 tribes  had  coalesced  into  independent  cities.  Thus  we  have  seen  that  the 
 citizens  of  the  several  States  so  formed  had  each  made  up  a  record  of  the 
 fortunes  of  their  forefathers,  and  that  these  traditions  were  supposed  to 
 belong  exclusively  to  each  city.  This  belief  we  have  seen  to  be  from 
 beginning  to  end  a  delusion.  The  stories,  taken  as  a  body,  are  practically 
 nothing  more  than  different  versions  of  one  and  the  same  myth,  which 
 portrays  the  varying  aspects  of  the  outward  world  and  the  action  of  the 
 sun  in  and  upon  that  world  during  the  day  and  throughout  the  year. 
 
 Here  we  may  note  two  things  :  (i)  that  these  legends  or  tales  supplied 
 lor  the  members  of  the  different  tribes  a  religion  decidedly  higher  and 
 better  than  the  unmythological  faith  of  the  original  eupatrid  despots,  and 
 (2)  that  these  mythical  traditions  come  from  a  source  which  was  practically 
 inexhaustible.  The  Greek  or  Latin  of  prehistoric  times  described,  or  tried 
 to  describe,  all  that  he  saw,  all  that  he  could  feel  or  touch  or  taste  or  hear ; 
 and  so  long  as  he  and  they  who  were  about  him  knew  the  meaning  of  the 
 words  which  they  were  using,  there  could  be  no  room  for  misunderstanding 
 or  misapprehension.  In  other  words,  the  conditions  needed  for  the  growth 
 of  myths  would  not  be  present.  As  time  went  on  and  the  meaning  of  the 
 words  used  became  indistinct  or  was  forgotten,  names  of  things  became 
 gradually  the  names  of  persons,  and  the  words  which  described  the 
 changes  of  the  outward  world  now  described  the  actions  of  beings  con- 
 scious of  their  purpose  and  their  work.  It  must  not,  indeed,  be  forgot- 
 ten that  mankind  had  never,  and  have  never,  been  able  to  reach  an  ab- 
 stract conception  except  through  pictures  of  thoroughly  sensuous  imagery; 
 and  thus  all  words  expressing  general  ideas  have  originally  denoted  nothing 
 more  than  impressions  made  on  the  mind  by  sensible  phenomena.  Of 
 this  outward  world  they  could,  of  course,  speak  only  as  they  thought ; 
 and  they  would  speak  truly  of  anything  that  came  within  the  range  of  their 
 senses.  The  sun  might  be  the  most  prominent  of  all  the  objects  which 
 could  meet  their  eyes ;  but  it  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  they  could  never 
 speak  of  anything  else.  Winds,  seas,  streams,  clouds,  mountains,  storm, 
 tempest,  light,  darkness,  trees  and  flowers,  beasts  and  birds,  would  become 
 matters  of  thought,  and  would  furnish  the  groundwork  for  myths  which 
 merely  expressed  the  mind  of  the  untaught  and  untrained  man.  From 
 the  influence  of  this  language  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  escape ; 
 
GREEK  A.\D  LATIN  RELIGIOXS.  231 
 
 and  on  the  whole  there  is  little  reason  for  regretting  that  he  could  not 
 escape  from  it.  The  early  descriptions  of  physical  phenomena  have 
 become  vehicles  for  expressing  some  of  the  highest  and  purest  conceptions 
 to  which  the  human  mind  has  been  able  to  rise.  The  Hellenic  or  Latin 
 tribes  may  have  been  more  or  less  conscious  that  when  they  spoke  of  the 
 great  Maker  of  all  things  and  Father  of  all  men,  they  spoke  of  Him  under 
 names  wliich  denoted  originally  nothing  more  than  the  bright  heaven  which 
 could  never  be  sullied  by  clouds  and  darkness  ;  but  in  this  respect  we 
 even  now  stand  at  no  great  advantage.  Two  centuries  ago  Locke  expressed 
 his  suspicion  that  "  if  we  could  trace  them  to  their  sources,  we  should 
 find  in  all  languages  the  names  which  stand  for  things  that  fall  out  under 
 our  senses  to  have  had  their  first  rise  from  sensible  ideas."  The  analysis 
 of  language  since  Locke's  day  has  proved  the  truth  of  his  words  to  de- 
 monstration. Gotl,  heaven,  truth,  mercy,  rigliteousness,  love,  are  terms 
 which  have  been  suggested  directly  by  objects  of  sense,  and  to  contend 
 that  it  is  not  so  is  a  mere  useless  kicking  against  the  pricks.  We  speak 
 of  the  souls  of  men  as  of  something  altogether  distinct  from  the  world  of 
 phenomena  ;  yet  soul  is  simply  a  name  denoting  the  restlessness  of  the 
 heaving  and  surging  sea,  which  reflects  heaven  and  earth  in  its  mirror. 
 
 The  myths  which  grew  up  from  the   impressions   thus  derived  by  the 
 
 senses  from  the  outward  world  grew  up  into  something  like  a  coherent 
 
 system,  which  was  held  to  regulate  the  course  of  human  life  and  duty  from 
 
 the  cradle  to  the  grave,  and  the  destinies  of  men  after  death  ;  and  this 
 
 system  was  accepted  with  a  faith  as  unquestioning  as  that  which  has  been 
 
 accorded   to  any  of  the  traditional  beliefs  and  theories  of  Christendom. 
 
 Both  alike  have  professed  to  deal  with  the  spiritual  world.     Both  have 
 
 declared  that  the  spiritual  truths  could  not  be  held  apart  from  the  supposed 
 
 historical    framework    for   which   the  outward    world    had    furnished   the 
 
 materials.     Whether  the  framework  be,  or  be  not,  in  both  cases  the  same, 
 
 is  a  question  which  cannot  be  evaded,  and  which  sooner  or  later  must  be 
 
 answered.     The  process   which  has  led  to   these   results  may  be  clearly 
 
 traced  in  those  articles  of  ancient  belief  which  affected  most  closely  the 
 
 moral  and  religious  life  of  those  who  held  it.     For  the  Hellenic  as  well  as 
 
 for  the  Latin  tribes  the  supreme  Maker  of  all  things  and  Father  of  all  men 
 
 was  Zeus,  under  the  com[)ound   form  Zeus   Pater,  or  Jupiter,   the   Dyaus- 
 
 pitar  of  tiie   Hindu.     For  all  of  them  the  name  Dyaus  had  denoted  at 
 
 the  first  only  the  bright  shining  heaven,  raised   above  the  gross  thick  air 
 
 through  which  the  clouds  course  and  in  which  the  winds  work  their  will. 
 
 Hence  in  the  earlier  terms  of  the  myth  Zeus  can  never  descend  from  his 
 
 high  abode  to  take  part  in  the  struggles  and  conflicts  of  men  ;  and  so  when 
 
 the  hour  for  the  battle  between  Achilles  and  Hector  is  come,  Zeus  is 
 
 represented  as  telling  the  gods,  the  streams,  and  the  nymphs  who  sit  round 
 
 his  throne,  that  they  may  go  down  and  choose  each  his  side,  but  that  he 
 
 himself  can  only  look  from  Olympus  on  the  fortunes  of  the  men  for  whom 
 
 nevertheless  he  cares.     It  is  true  that  in  the  Vedic  hymns  Dyaus  (Zeus) 
 
232  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 is  displacad  by  Varuna  and  by  Indra ;  but  Indra  was  himself  worsliipped 
 as  the  god  of  the  bright  sky  and  the  son  of  the  brilhant  Dyu.  Still  the 
 word  Dyu,  Dyaus,  Zeus,  could  not  become  a  personal  name  until  its 
 original  meaning  had  been  obscured.  The  Greek  had  his  Aer,  his  Aither 
 (ether),  and  his  Ouranos  to  express  the  visible  heavens  ;  and  Zeus  became 
 to  him  more  and  more  the  personal  god  whose  hand  is  seen  in  his  works. 
 But  in  the  West  as  in  the  East  the  original  character  of  the  god  is  in  close 
 accordance  with  the  etymology  of  the  word.  The  Athenians  called  on 
 Zeus  to  rain  on  their  land  ;  the  Latins  spoke  of  the  glistening  heaven  which 
 by  all  is  named  Jove,  while  the  phrases  sub  dio  vivere,  sub  Jove  frigido,  and 
 even  mains  Jupiter,  remained  common  expressions  in  everyday  speech. 
 But  in  the  conception  of  Zeus  generally  the  two  streams  of  religion  and 
 myth  ran  side  by  side  with  singular  distinctness.  Nowhere  is  this  con- 
 clusion so  forced  upon  us  as  in  the  Hesiodic  Works  and  Days.  This  may, 
 or  may  not  be,  a  single  poem.  In  all  likelihood  it  is  a  combination  of 
 two  or  more  ;  but  the  matter  is  of  subordinate  importance.  At  all  events, 
 we  have  in  the  compass  of  a  very  small  book  two  distinct  streams  of 
 thought.  In  the  one  the  poet  bids  his  friend  deal  with  all  men  after  the 
 rule  of  righteousness  wliich  comes  from  Zeus  ;  tells  him  that  justice  and 
 truth  shall  in  the  end  prevail,  and  that  they  who  do  evil  to  others  inflict 
 evil  on  themselves  ;  and  warns  him  that  the  eyes  of  God  are  in  every 
 place,  that  the  way  of  evil  is  broad  and  smooth,  and  the  path  of  good 
 narrow  and  rough  at  the  first.  This  is  followed  by  the  story  of  Pandora  ; 
 and  the  poet,  who  can  scarcely  be  the  poet  of  the  former  part,  relates  how 
 Zeus  bade  the  gods  make  her  fair  to  look  upon,  but  all  evil  witiiin,  and 
 laughed  at  the  thought  of  the  miseries  which  should  overtake  mankind 
 when  the  evils  shut  up  in  her  box  should  be  let  loose,  while,  to  crush  them 
 utterly,  hope  should  be  left  a  prisoner  within  it.  It  is  not  easy  to  suppose 
 that  the  poet  who  speaks  of  Zeus  as  cheating  and  laughing  at  mankind 
 is  consciously  speaking  of  the  same  Zeus  who  bids  them  to  do  justice  and 
 love  mercy  as  he  himself  is  just  and  merciful. 
 
 In  this  latter  aspect  Zeus  is  a  rigiiteous  god  ;  and  therefore,  as  seeing 
 from  his  throne  in  heaven  all  that  is  done  on  earth,  he  must  be  the  impar- 
 tial judge  who  punishes  all  iniquity.  But  while  we  have  clear  assertions  of 
 human  responsibility  to  the  unseen  but  all-seeing  Father,  the  mythical  or  sen- 
 suous origin  of  the  conception  is  constantly  thrusting  itself  upon  us.  The 
 punislmients  which  he  inflicts  on  Tantalus  or  Ixion.on  Lykaon  andSisyphos, 
 are  involved  in  the  very  idea  of  these  beings.  The  sun,  as  rising  into  the 
 dizzy  heights  of  heaven,  may  be  said  to  gaze  too  boldly  on  the  bride  of  Zeus  ; 
 but  his  downward  course  is  not  less  certain  than  his  ascent,  and  at  midday 
 he  must  be  fastened  or  crucified  like  Ixion  on  his  four-spoked  wheel,  while 
 the  ball  which  Sisyphos  has  with  huge  toil  rolled  to  the  mountain-summit 
 (the  zenith)  must  slip  from  his  grasp  and  dash  down  again  into  the  valley 
 below.  Still  more  must  he  punisii  any  insults  done  to  him  as  lord  of  the 
 fire-laden  thunder-clouds  ;  and  Prometheus,  as  teaching  man  how  to  kindle 
 
GREEK  AND  LATIN  RELIGIONS.  233 
 
 a  flame  and  cheat  the  gods  with  offerings  of  fat  and  bone,  is  an  offender 
 less  easily  pardoned  than  chiefs  who  sacrifice  their  children  on  his  altars. 
 
 The  story  of  Prometheus  brings  us  to  a  series  of  myths  or  legends  which 
 directly  contradict  each  other ;  but  by  the  average  Greek  these  contradic- 
 tions seem  to  have  been  unnoticed.  The  records  of  sacred  books  are  now, 
 as  then,  received  none  the  less  readily  and  trustfully,  because  their  state- 
 ments may  even  exclude  each  other.  They  who  can  read  St.  Paul's  epistle 
 to  the  (kilatians  without  perceiving  that  in  every  particular  it  contradicts 
 and  sets  aside  the  narratives  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  will  never  be 
 troubled  by  inconsistencies  scarcely  so  obtrusive  in  the  traditions  of  old 
 Greeks  or  Romans.  According  to  the  Hesiodic  theogony  the  existence 
 of  men  upon  earth  began  (after  the  notion  prevalent  in  Christian  tradition- 
 alism) wiih  a  golden  age,  during  which  the  earth  yielded  her  fruits  of  her 
 own  accord,  and  plagues  and  sickness  were  unknown.  The  old  Greek 
 myth-makers  did  not  indeed  go  on  to  the  absurdity  of  the  notion,  still 
 popular  among  Christians,  that  man  was  created  immortal,  the  death  of 
 the  body  being  solely  and  strictly  the  consequence  of  his  sin.  In  the 
 Hesiodic  golden  age  men  died,  but  they  died  as  though  they  were  going  to 
 sleep,  and  became  the  righteous  daimones,  who  watch  the  ways  and  works 
 of  men,  to  uphold  the  good  and  to  overturn  the  wicked.  The  Hesiodic 
 poets  knew  of  no  transitional  periods.  Each  age  is  virtually  a  new  crea- 
 tion ;  and  the  lowering  of  the  successive  races  is  thus  deprived  of  its  moral 
 characteristics,  the  creator  being  deprived  of  them  also.  The  earth  be- 
 comes the  accidental  abode  of  a  series  of  degenerating  inhabitants,  the 
 race  of  the  poet's  own  day  being  the  worst  of  all. 
 
 In  contrast  with  this  gloomier  belief,  the  Promethean  myth  exhibits  man- 
 kind in  a  scale  ascending  from  the  savage  state,  in  which  they  knew  the 
 use  neither  of  fire  nor  of  metals,  to  that  high  civilization  in  which  Zeus 
 fears  that  they  may  become  like  the  gods  in  wisdom  and  so  share  their 
 power.  This  myth,  as  related  by  .-lischylus,  knows  nothing  of  a  previous 
 knowledge  of  fire  which,  according  to  the  Hesiodic  tale,  Zeus  took  away 
 from  i\iau  in  revenge  for  the  cheat  put  upon  him  in  the  matter  of  sacrifice. 
 In  the  ^^Cschylean  drama  Prometheus  expressly  speaks  of  men  not  as 
 having  lost  higher  powers  but  as  never  having  been  awakened  to  the  con- 
 sciousness of  the  faculties  with  which  they  were  endowed.  Till  he  came 
 to  their  aid,  they  were  beings  to  whom  sight  and  hearing  were  useless,  and 
 for  whom  life  presented  only  the  contused  images  of  a  dream.  The  sun- 
 less caves,  in  which  they  lived  like  ants,  were  not  wrought  into  shape  by 
 their  hands.  For  them  there  were  no  distinctions  of  seasons,  no  know- 
 ledge of  the  rising  and  setting  of  the  stars.  For  all  this  misery  there  was 
 no  remedy  until  men  could  be  brought  under  the  conditions  indispensable 
 for  the  exercise  of  their  powers, — a  result  to  be  achieved  only  by  bestowing 
 on  them  the  boon  of  fire.  But  this  very  idea  involves  the  fact  that  fire 
 was  a  thing  unknown  to  men  upon  the  earth.  They  might  see  it  in  the 
 cloven  thunder-clouds,  or  tremble  at  the  fiery  streams  hurled  into  the  air 
 
234  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 from  the  volcanoes  ;  but  to  them  fire  was  at  the  least  a  thing  which  they 
 dared  not  approach  with  the  thought  of  mastering  and  turning  it  to  use. 
 Some  wiser  being  than  they  must,  therefore,  bring  it  to  them  in  a  form 
 which  should  make  it  the  servant,  not  the  destroyer,  of  man.  That  being 
 was  Prometheus,  who,  by  stealing  it  in  a  ferule  from  the  palace  of  Zeus, 
 enables  men  to  cook  and  to  build  and  to  find  the  wealth  stored  up  within 
 the  eartli.  l>Vom  him  they  received  skill  in  the  discernment  of  herbs  and 
 roots  for  the  healing  of  diseases  :  and  from  him  they  learnt  also  to  under- 
 stand the  signs  of  the  calm  and  the  troubled  heavens,  and  the  meanings 
 of  the  muscular  movements  of  victims  slain  in  sacrifice. 
 
 In  no  other  way  could  the  great  tragic  poet  have  shown  more  clearly 
 that   Prometheus  was  the  friend  who  bestowed  on  man,  a  creature  more 
 helpless   than   any  of  the  brute  beasts,  all   that  can  make  life  valuable. 
 Nor  can  we  lay  too  great  a  stress  on  this  fact,  because   this  version   not 
 only  makes  the  whole  myth  self-consistent,  but  it  is  clearly  the  earlier  form 
 of  the  legend  into  which  the  Hesiodic  poet  introduced  the  vengeance  taken 
 by  Zeus  for  the  cheat  put  upon  him.     This  story  is  really  a  mere  piece  of 
 patchwork,  for  according  to  it  men  are  as  far  as  ever  from  that  state  of 
 unawakened  powers  which  is  of  the  very  essence  of  the  tale  in  the  tragedy 
 of  A!:schylus.     But  how  came  it  about  that  Prometheus  had  the  power  of 
 entering   the    Olympian    palace  ?      This  question   ^schylus   answers  by 
 saying  that  Prometheus  was  a  Titan,  and  that  when  his  gigantic  kinsfolk 
 rose  in  rebellion  against  Zeus,  Prometheus  played  the  part  of  Michael  in 
 the  war  waged  within  the  courts  of  heaven,  the  result  being  that  Kronos 
 with  his  adherents  is  hurled,  like  Satan  with  the  revolted  angels,  into  the 
 abyss  of  Tartaros  or  hell.     But  the  story  goes   on   to  say  that  Zeus  on 
 finding  himself  securely  seated  on  the  throne  of  heaven,  assigned  to  each 
 god  his  place  and  function,  but  took  no  count  of  man,  his  heart's  desire 
 being  to  swee[)  the  whole  race  from  tiie  earth  and  to  create  another,  much 
 as  Jahveh  offers  to  destroy  the  Israelites  in  a  moment  and  to  provide 
 a   new  people  who  will  obey  Moses.     But   this  resolution  was  formed, 
 not  because  men  were  already  becoming  too  wise   or   powerful,  as    the 
 Hesiodic  version  represents  the  matter,  but  because  man  was  too  mean 
 and  wretched  a  thing  to  be  suffered  to  cumber  the  earth.     Here  Zeus 
 expresses  no  fear,  and  Prometheus  is  opposed  to  him  not  because  he  is 
 too  severe  upon  enemies  whom  he  dreads,  but  because  he  feels  no  pity 
 for  creatures  whose  wretchedness  calls  only  for  compassion.     The  mercy 
 refused  by  Zeus  is  extended  to  them  by  Prometheus,  who,  by  stealing  the 
 fire,  converts   the  opposition  of  Zeus  into  a  fierce  longing  for  vengeance 
 against  the  mighty  being  who  has  dared  to  thwart  his  will.     The  great 
 heart  whose  pulses  had  beaten  in  sympatiiy  with   the  griefs  and  woes  of 
 man  shall  itself  be  torn  with  an  agony  far  surpassing  their  puny  woes.     In 
 one  point  only  is  the  yEschylcan  story  as  completely  at  variance  with  itself 
 as  in  all  others  it  is  with  the  Hesiodic  myth.     These  children  of  men,  who 
 are  described  as  being  unable  either  to  see  or  hear,  and  as  clustering 
 
GREEK  AND  LATIN  RELIGIONS.  235 
 
 together  like  ants  in  their  sunless  caves  until  they  receive  the  boon  of  fire, 
 yet  possess  a  knowledge  of  things  to  come  and  see  what  is  to  be  the  course 
 and  close  of  their  lives — and  this,  before  Prometheus  brings  to  them  the 
 fire  from  heaven.  This  power  he  takes  away  from  them,  substituting  blind 
 hopes  or  dreams  in  its  place ;  and  when  he  has  added  to  this  benefit  the 
 gift  of  fire,  he  then  instructs  them  in  divination,  thus  supplying  in  a  measure 
 that  very  knowledge  which  he  had  wished  to  take  away  and  of  which  he 
 had  in  fact  deprived  them. 
 
 But  the  action  of  the  old  Hellenic  religion  was  not  confined  to  any 
 one  stage  of  human  life.  The  influence  of  its  deities  was  exercised  before 
 the  birth  of  men  and  continued  after  their  death.  The  Eileithyiai  watched 
 over  the  embryo  and  determined  the  time  when  it  should  begin  to  breathe 
 the  outer  air.  Without  them  the  child  of  Leto  could  not  leap  into  light 
 and  life  at  Delos  ;  and  by  their  intervention  the  worthier  man  might  become 
 tlie  thrall  of  one  meaner  than  himself.  It  was  thus  that  Herakles  was 
 compelled  through  life  to  do  the  bidding  of  the  vile  and  crafty  Eurystheus. 
 To  the  care  of  the  Eileithyiai,  who  ushered  the  babe  into  the  world,  succeeds 
 that  of  the  unseen  being  whose  guardianship  is  to  last  through  life.  In 
 the  belief  of  the  Latins  the  life  of  the  genius  or  guardian  angel  seems  to 
 have  been  measured  by  that  of  the  man  assigned  to  his  care.  The  death 
 of  the  two  must  be  simultaneous.  Nor  are  these  the  only  beings  with 
 whom  men  are  brought  into  personal  relations.  There  are  powers  of 
 necessity  and  of  vengeance  which  even  the  gods  cannot  escape  from  or 
 resist  ;  and  the  descriptions  given  of  these  involve  no  small  inconsistencies 
 and  even  contradictions.  It  may  be  also  that,  when  we  get  into  these 
 regions  of  Ananke,  Moira,  Aisn,  the  Latin  Parcaor  Fatum  and  tlie  Teutonic 
 Noma,  we  have  to  deal  with  conceptions  which  belong  to  a  comparatively 
 late  stage  of  thought  and  which  are  in  fact  more  or  less  artificial.  With 
 the  idea  of  Ananke,  or  necessity,  is  closely  linked  that  of  vengeance  taken 
 for  the  shedding  of  blood,  or  for  offences  committed  consciously  or  un- 
 consciously against  the  majesty  of  law.  There  is  an  irresistible  force  which 
 drives  on  the  mythical  beings  who  represent  the  sun  and  the  stars  in  their 
 courses.  The  sun  himself  is  united  in  the  evening  with  the  same  violet- 
 tinted  twilight  which  greeted  his  rising  and  then  fled  away  from  him  in 
 the  morning.  But  the  dawn  may  with  equal  truth  be  spoken  of  as  his 
 mother  or  as  his  wife ;  and  though  the  day  may  become  old  and  wan,  the 
 dawn  and  the  twilight  are  always  fresh.  In  other  words,  Oidipous  is 
 married  to  his  mother  lokaste,  who  is  as  bright  and  fair  as  she  had  ever 
 been.  In  the  imagination  of  the  Greek  this  awful  marriage  fills  his  house 
 with  woe  and  brings  his  lineage  to  an  end  in  blood.  It  is  the  story  of  a 
 livid  sunset,  in  which  the  sun  tears  out  his  own  eyes  and  sinks  below  the 
 earth  in  loneliness  and  blindness.  Iphigeneia  must  die  in  order  that  Helen 
 may  be  brought  back,  just  as  the  expiring  twilight  must  vanish  away  if  the 
 light  of  dawn  is  to  come  again.  Must  there  not  then  be  vengeance  taken 
 for  the  outpouring  of  her  innocent  blood?     It  is  a  mere  impossibility  that 
 
236  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Ate  should  rest  till  she  has  visited  on  Agamemnon  himself  the  death  of 
 his  guiltless  child. 
 
 Here,  then,  we  have  conceptions,  strictly  religious  or  theological,  sug- 
 gested by  phrases  which  described  phenomena  of  the  day  or  the  year. 
 The  same  process  goes  on  everywhere.  The  moral  conflict  between 
 Ormuzd  and  Ahriman  points  to  the  earlier  physical  straggle  in  which  Indra 
 fights  with  and  slays  the  choking  snake  who  hides  away  the  rain-clouds 
 in  his  dismal  cave  ;  and  the  battle  between  spiritual  good  and  evil  takes 
 form  from  the  war  between  the  light  of  the  sun  and  the  darkness  of  the 
 night.  The  vengeance  for  iniquity  belongs  to  the  fearful  Erinyes ;  but 
 the  Erinyes  of  the  Iliad  is  still  a  winged  being  who  wanders  in  the  air ; 
 and  Ate  has  still  the  tangible  form  which  Zeus  hurls  from  the  portals  of 
 Olympus.  But  the  Erinyes,  who  had  assumed  appalling  forms  in  the 
 West,  represented  the  beautiful  Saranyu  of  the  Vedic  hymns,  whose  soft 
 light  steals  across  the  heavens,  and  of  whom  it  was  said  that  she  would 
 find  out  the  evil  deeds  done  during  the  night  and  punish  the  wrong-doer. 
 The  Greeks  called  them  Eumenides,  it  was  supposed  from  Euphemism, 
 which  ascribed  to  them  qualities  of  which  they  were  destitute  ;  but  they 
 appear  in  their  genuine  colours  in  the  story  of  Oidipous.  For  him  they 
 are  merciful  and  benignant  beings  in  whose  grove  he  may  take  shelter  until 
 it  is  his  time  to  die.  For  him  they  are  the  weavers  who,  like  Penelope, 
 put  together  the  magic  web  which  is  to  be  undone  again  during  the  night. 
 The  threads  of  this  web  become,  in  their  hands  and  in  those  of  the  Moirai, 
 the  lines  of  human  destiny;  and  when  we  have  said  fhis,  we  have  practi- 
 cally said  all.  What  else  is  told  us  of  them  is  little  more  than  allegory, 
 on  which  the  ingenuity  of  later  ages  has  exercised  itself.  It  was  easy  to 
 speak  of  them  as  daughters  of  the  night,  of  the  earth  and  darkness.  It 
 was  easy  to  name  the  Erinyes  or  Eumenides  as  AUekto,  Megaira,  and 
 Tisiphone,  whose  hatred,  jealousy,  and  revenge  are  unconquerable,  and 
 to  describe  the  Moirai  as  Klotho,  who  spins  the  threads  of  life,  Lachesis, 
 who  deals  them  out,  and  Atropos,  who  severs  them  at  the  moment  of 
 death.  These  in  the  Latin  myth  are  the  Parcse,  and  in  the  Teutonic 
 legend  they  become  Vurdh,  Verdhandi,  and  Skuld,  or  past,  present,  and 
 future.  Of  the  same  artificial  texture  are  the  Litai,  whose  office  as  seeking 
 to  make  amends  for  wrong  done  is  a  mere  allegory  on  the  pnrpose  of 
 prayer.  What  is  told  us  of  Nemesis  is  much  of  the  same  sort.  In  the 
 world  good  and  evil  are  so  capriciously  distributed  that  on  one  side  we 
 have  the  squalid  beggar,  on  the  other  the  man  whose  prosperity  is  so 
 unvarying  that  his  friends,  foreseeing  the  issue,  renounce  all  alliance  with 
 him.  In  either  aspect  she  is  Adrasteia,  the  being  from  whom  there  is 
 no  escape.  After  the  same  fashion  Aisa,  the  spoken  word  of  the  Hellenic 
 Zeus,  becomes  the  Fatum  of  the  Latin  Jupiter,  both  being  the  ministers 
 of  the  god,  not  the  despotic  and  irresponsible  powers  before  whom,  as 
 before  the  Ananke  of  the  tragic  poets,  even  Zeus  himself  must  bow. 
 
 But  these  are  not  the  only  powers  which  affect  the  fortunes  of  men  in 
 
GREEK  AND  LATIN  RELIGIONS.  237 
 
 this  world  and  maintain  the  sanctities  of  human  life.  The  men  amongst 
 whom  the  great  multitude  of  myths  grew  up  troubled  themselves  very 
 little  about  consistency.  The  believers  probably  took  the  myths,  as  they 
 came  separately,  and  received  them  all  as  veritable  history.  In  one  tradi- 
 tion the  giver  of  fire  to  man  is,  as  we  have  seen,  Prometheus  ;  but  in  the 
 so-called  Homeric  hymn  the  gift  comes  from  Hermes.  He  is  so,  however, 
 as  supplying  the  materials,  not  as  being,  like  the  Vedic  Agni  (in  Latin 
 /i,'-«/>)  himself  the  fire.  The  hymn-writer  is  careful  to  distinguish  between 
 the  two.  He  is  the  fire-giver  because  he  rubs  the  branches  of  the  forest 
 together  till  they  burst  into  a  flame  ;  but  the  wood  thus  kindled  and  the 
 meat  thus  roasted  are  devoured  not  by  himself  but  by  the  fire.  Hermes 
 remains  hungry,  although  he  is  represented  as  longing  for  the  food  whose 
 savour  fills  his  nostrils.  Nothing  can  show  more  clearly  that  we  are  deal- 
 ing simply  witli  tlie  wind,  in  other  words,  with  the  bellows,  not  with  the 
 fire.  But  we  have  yet  another  discoverer  of  fire  in  the  Argive  Phoroneus, 
 who  dwells  on  the  Astu  Phoronikon  of  Argos  ;  and  Astu  is  seemingly 
 only  another  form  of  Hestia,  the  inviolable  fire  on  tlie  sacred  hearth, — 
 the  only  power  which  placed  a  curb  on  the  brutish  exclusiveness  of  the 
 ])riinilive  eupatrids  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  tribes.  Of  the  origin  and 
 character  of  this  exclusiveness  enough  perhaps  has  been  already  said. 
 All  that  we  need  mark  is  that  no  great  accretion  of  myths  was  possible 
 in  the  case  either  of  Phoroneus  or  of  Hestia.  The  legend,  such  as  it  is, 
 belongs  to  that  class  of  transparent  stories  among  which  the  myths  of 
 Endymion  and  Sarpedon  are  the  most  conspicuous  ;  and  the  beneficial 
 influence  of  the  cultus  of  Hestia  is  most  strongly  proved  by  the  almost 
 complete  absence  of  myths  in  connection  with  her  name.  She  is  so  clearly 
 the  fire  on  the  hearth,  the  symbol  and  pledge  of  good  faith,  of  law  and  order, 
 that  it  is  impossible  to  lose  sight  of  her  attributes  ;  and  the  Greek  Hestia, 
 even  more  than  the  Latin  Vesta,  remained  a  name  which  spoke  for  itself 
 
 There  were  yet  other  myths  which  tended  to  impress  on  men  the  sense 
 of  their  responsibility  to  a  law  which  they  could  not  evade  and  which  they 
 felt  to  be  righteous.  The  myths,  which  had  started  as  pictures  of  sensible 
 l)henoniena,  grew  into  the  religious  belief  which  kept  up  the  idea  of  human 
 duty,  while  they  appealed  to  the  yearning  for  happiness,— the  end  after 
 which  all  men,  in  the  words  of  Aristotle,  strive  and  strain.  This  happiness  is 
 especially  the  lot  of  those  who  are  admitted  into  the  Elysian  paradise.  But 
 what  is  Klysion  ?  Elysion  is  the  golden  land  far  away  in  the  \\'est,  where  the 
 sun  "oes  down  bevond  the  bounds  of  the  earth  ;  where  Eos  with  her  violet 
 tints  gladdens  the  close  of  the  day.  The  abodes  of  the  blessed  are  golden 
 islands  sailing  on  a  sea  of  blue,  the  burnished  clouds  floating  in  the  pure 
 ether.  Grief  and  sorrow  cannot  approach  them  ;  plagues  and  sickness  can- 
 not touch  them  ;  and  thus  the  blissful  company  gathered  together  in  that 
 far  western  land  inherits,  in  Pindar's  words,  a  tearless  eternity.  There  is 
 perhaps  scarcely  a  single  detail  in  any  one  of  these  pictures  which  was  not 
 suggested   directly  by  images  drawn  from  the  phenomena  of  sunset  and 
 
238  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 twilight.     What  spot  or  stain  can  be  seen  on  the  deep  blue  ocean  in  which 
 the  islands  of  the  blessed  repose  for  ever?     What  unseemly  forms  can  mar 
 the  beauty  of  that  golden  home?     Who,  then,  but  the  pure  in  heart,  the 
 truthful,  and  the  generous,  can  be  suffered  to  tread  the  violet  fields  ?  and 
 how   shall  they    be  tested  save  by   judges   who  can  discern   and  weigh 
 the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart  ?     Thus  every  soul,  as  it  drew  near 
 to  that  joyous  land,   was  brought   before  the  august  tribunal  of  Minos, 
 Rhadamanthys,  and  Aiakos ;  and  they  whose  faith  was  in  truth  a  quicken- 
 ing power  might  draw  from  the  ordeal  those  golden  lessons  which  Plato 
 has  put  into  the  mouth  of  Socrates,  while  waiting  the  return  of  the  theoric 
 ship  from   Delos.     These,  however,  are  infusions  of  later  thought.     The 
 descriptions  of  the  abodes  to  which  the  righteous   are   admitted  come 
 straight  from  the  objects  of  the  sensible  universe,  and  they  have  an  im- 
 portance which  is  not  confined  to  either  ancient  Hellenic  or  ancient  Latin 
 traditions.     We  may  take  the  picture  as  drawn  by  Pindar,  or  by  the  poets 
 of  the  Odyssey.     They  all  come   from   the  same  mint ;  and  this  mint  is 
 Scheria,   the  fixed   abode  of   the   Phaiakians   after  their  expulsion  from 
 Hypereia.     On    this    home  is  spread   the   soft  beauty  of  an  everlasting 
 twilight,  unsullied  by  unseemly  mists  and  murky  vapours.     We  need  only 
 mark  the  images  chosen  by  the  poet  to  see  how  faithfully  he  adheres  to 
 the  phenomena  of  cloud-land.     They  who  have  watched  in  the  eastern  or 
 western  sky  the  cloud-capped  towers,  catching  the  light  on  their  burnished 
 faces,  can  well  feel  whence  came   the  surpassing  glory  of  the  palace  and 
 the  gardens  of  Alkinoos.     As  we  look  on  the  chambers  of  that  splendid 
 dwelling,  the  brazen  walls  with  their  purple  bands  and  string  courses,  the 
 golden  doors  and  steps  of  silver,  are  we  not  tempted  to  think  that  the 
 varying  forms  and  the  unsubstantial   figures  before  us  are  the  shapes  of 
 living  men   and  beasts  who  people  the  shadowy  kingdom  ?     Have  we  not 
 seen  there  the  dogs  of  gold  and  silver  who  guard  the  house  of  Alkinoos  ; 
 the  golden  youths  standing  around  the  inmost  shrine  with  torches  in  their 
 hands,  whose  light  never  dies  out ;  the  maidens  plying  their  golden  distaffs 
 as  their  fingers  run  along  the  filmy  thread  spread  on  the  bare  ground  of  the 
 unfading  ettier?     Who  does  not  understand  the  poet  at  once  when  he  says 
 that  their  marvellous   skill  came  from  Athene,  the  goddess  of  the  dawn  ? 
 In  truth,  there  is  nothing  of  earth  in  this  beautiful  picture.     In  the  Phaia- 
 kian  land  sorrow  and  sickness  are  things  unknown  ;  and  thus  the  imagery 
 of  the  Homeric  descriptions  is  seen  to  furnish  the  materials  for  the  hymns 
 which  expressed  the  yearning  of  mediaeval  saints  for  the  golden  streets  and 
 jewelled  gates  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem.     The  language  of  these  hymns 
 might  be  thought  to  be  borrowed  straight  from  tlie  old  Greek  poems  ;  but 
 theories  of  jjlagiarism  are  not  called  for  here.     The  great  lyric  poet  at 
 Olympia  and  the  Christian  monk  were  both  reading  from  the  pages  of  the 
 same  book,  and   the  expression  of  their  thoughts  must  needs  correspond 
 with  a  closeness  which  may  seem  to  us  astonishing.     There  is  no  difference 
 between  them,  except   that  the  Christian  poet  yearns  for  the  glory  which 
 streams  from  the  throne  of  God  the  eternal  Son. 
 
CREEK  AND  LATIN  RELIGIONS.  239 
 
 But  it  is  not  the  destiny  of  the  good  only  with  which  the  myth-taught 
 rehgion  of  thie  old  Greek  tribes  professed  to  deal.  For  all  men  tiie  journey 
 through  this  world  came  to  an  end,  and  all  passed  into  Anostos,  the  region 
 from  which  no  traveller  returns.  As  each  crosses  the  mysterious  boundary, 
 he  finds  himself  in  the  hands  of  Hermes,  the  Psychopompos,  or  guide  of 
 souls,  to  the  abode  appointed  for  them.  According  to  one  set  of  myths,  all 
 without  exception  are  conveyed  to  the  realm  of  Hades,  who,  as  Polydegmon, 
 has  no  lack  of  shelter  for  all  who  may  be  brought  to  him.  But  his  land  is 
 dark,  dreary,  and  repulsive,  and  existence  in  its  sunless  atmosphere  is  not 
 life  ;  it  is  but  a  pretence  which  has  nothing  substantial  about  it.  It  is  even 
 better  to  be  a  slave  on  earth  than  a  prince  in  this  awful  region.  But  it  is 
 quite  certain  that  with  this  gloomy  kingdom  the  Elysion  of  Pindar  has 
 nothing  whatever  to  do.  The  dwellers  in  the  asphodel  meadows,  where  the 
 corn  ripens  thrice  in  the  year,  need  not  trouble  themselves  about  the  black- 
 ness of  tlie  abode  where  Persephone  spends  the  months  during  which  the 
 Mater  Dolorosa  seeks  her  lost  child.  This  is  only  another  sample  of  the  in- 
 consistencies and  contradictions  between  different  myths,  or  sets  of  myths,  of 
 which  we  have  already  noticed  many  instances.  It  was  probably  a  matter 
 of  faith  that  the  righteous  were  exemi)t  from  the  penalties  inflicted  on  all 
 who,  having  crossed  the  Styx,  were  found  to  need  the  discipline.  These 
 would  be  the  average  of  mankind,  and  those  who  had  run  riot  in  wicked- 
 ness ;  and  these  two  classes  were  consigned  to  different  regions.  The 
 former  were  suffered  to  dwell  in  Hades  ;  the  others  were  thrust  down  into 
 the  hopeless  prisons  of  the  reprobate.  The  creation  of  a  place  of  utter 
 darkness  for  abandoned  sinners  was  a  moral  or  theological,  not  a  mythical, 
 necessity  ;  and  hence  the  mythology  of  Tartaros  as  a  place  of  torment,  is 
 as  artificial  as  that  of  the  Moirai  or  the  Norns. 
 
 Little,  however,  has  been  said  thus  far  of  the  great  mythical  drama, 
 which  for  the  Hellenic  tribes,  as  for  almost  all  others,  was  a  subject  of 
 absorbing  interest.  Some  may  say  that  it  is  only  a  mythical  drama,  and 
 therefore  has  no  necessary  connection  with  Hellenic  religion.  Yet  this 
 argument  can  scarcely  be  maintained  with  seriousness,  unless  we  are 
 to  say  that  the  most  solemn  ceremonies,  invested  with  the  full  majesty  of 
 the  state  religion,  were  not  religious  in  any  sense  whatever.  When  the 
 Athenian  maidens  wove  the  peplos  for  the  sacred  ship  of  Athene  in  the 
 Panathenaic  pomp,  they  were  as  consciously  discharging  a  religious  duty 
 as  are  the  Christian  maidens  of  the  orthodox  or  Latin  churches  when 
 they  deck  the  images  of  the  virgin  mother  in  the  month  of  May.  The 
 object  of  worship,  or  veneration,  is  in  each  case  the  same,  the  difference 
 being  only  that  for  tlie  ancient  Greek  there  were  many  virgin  mothers,  and 
 each  had  different  children,  round  whose  names  were  clustered  myths  or 
 traditions  of  surpassing  interest.  For  them  there  were  many  heroes  or 
 deities  born  in  caves  ;  many  who  were  slain  and  died,  to  appear  again  in 
 all  their  former  glory  ;  many  who  had  been  tried  and  tempted  without 
 yielding   to  the  seducements  of  sense ;  many  who  had  given  themselves 
 
240  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OE   THE    WORLD. 
 
 absolutely  to  the  work  of  lessening  the  troubles,  sorrows,  follies,  and  sins 
 of  mankind  ;  many  who  had  fought  with  and  beaten  down  the  powers  of 
 darkness,  and  brought  courage  and  hope  to  those  who  were  dying  in  weak- 
 ness and  despair.  The  stories,  as  we  have  said,  were  taken  just  as  they 
 came.  No  attempts  were  made  (after  our  fashion  with  traditional  tales)  to 
 systematize  and  harmonize  them  ;  and  so  ihey  exhibit  the  myth  in  many 
 stages,  some  being  purely  sensuous,  others  pointing  a  moral  or  religious 
 lesson,  but  none  departing  altogether  from  the  character  which  they  had 
 at  starting.  Thus  Sarpedon,  the  chief  of  Lykia  (the  land  of  light),  as  a 
 representative  of  the  short-lived  sun,  is  smitten  down  in  his  youth  ;  but 
 the  powers  of  sleep  and  death  which  bear  him  back  to  his  eastern  home 
 point  clearly  to  his  starting  again  with  the  next  dawn  on  the  same  journey. 
 In  the  case  of  Memnon  the  myth  has  not  gone  so  far.  He  is  so  trans- 
 jiarently  the  son  of  Eos,  the  morning,  that  he  must  rise  again.  Like  Zeus 
 on  the  death  of  Sarpedon,  Eos  weeps  tears  of  dew  on  the  death  of  her 
 child  ;  but  her  prayers  avail  to  bring  him  back,  like  Adonis  or  Tammuz, 
 from  the  shadowy  land  to  live  always  in  Olympos.  Nay,  so  clear  is  the 
 meaning  of  the  story  that  he  is  by  some  called  the  child  of  Hemera,  the 
 day ;  and  his  gleaming  armour,  like  that  of  Achilleus,  is  wrought  by  the 
 fire-god  Hephaistos. 
 
 'l"he  ceremonial  of  the  Panathenaic  festival  brings  before  us  another 
 from  of  Hellenic  and  Latin  religion,  which  should  either  be  carefully 
 examined  or  left  alone  altogether.  It  is  an  intolerable  thing  to  find 
 scholars  or  theologians  affecting  ignorance,  or  purposely  slurring  over 
 matters  which  they  know  to  be  of  vital  moment,  as  in  the  question,  now 
 before  us,  of  what  is  called  tree  and  serpent  worship.  The  subject  is  soon 
 stated  ;  and  altiiough  it  was  sufficiently  systematized  among  the  Greeks 
 and  Latins,  it  would  be  absurd  to  suppose  that  the  religion  thus  brought 
 into  shape  was  peculiar  to  either.  It  grew  up,  independently,  eveiywhere. 
 It  was  practised  in  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  in  spite  of  the  unceasing  and 
 vehement  protests  of  the  great  Hebrew  prophets.  There  every  year,  at 
 the  time  of  the  winter  solstice,  the  women  wept  for  Tammuz,  that  is  for 
 the  dead  Adonis,  "  whom  they  will  hail  on  the  third  day  as  having  come 
 to  life  again."  There  the  twenty-five  men  between  the  porch  and  the 
 altar  worshipped  the  sun  towards  the  east;  and  there  the  reproductive 
 power  in  nature  was  adored  under  the  realistic  symbol  of  a  stock,  or  pole, 
 or  trunk,  which  could  become  a  serpent,  and  from  a  serjient  revert  again 
 to  the  form  of  a  rod.  Too  much  stress  cannot  be  laid  on  the  fact  that  by 
 a  wholly  independent  growth  the  same  symbolism  was  emjjloyed  in  the 
 same  worship  in  Egypt  as  in  Hellas  or  Italy.  Everywhere  the  two  em- 
 blems, upright  and  oval,  are  invariably  found  together  ;  and  both  have 
 served  as  a  basis  jjractically  of  all  ornamentation  in  the  architecture  of  the 
 East  and  the  West.  As  to  the  origin  and  meaning  of  these  emblems,  there 
 must  be  no  paltering.  The  tree  and  the  serpent  are  confessedly,  according 
 to  the  story,  the  same  thing.     The  one  may  become  the  other;  and  this  tree 
 
GREEK  AND  LATIN  RELIGIONS.  241 
 
 and  serpent  are  in  the  midst  of  the  garden  or  paradise ;  and  the  paradise 
 is  the  human  body.  The  story  in  the  book  of  Genesis  is  a  symboUcal 
 narrative,  flimsily  veiled,  of  the  course  of  sexual  passion.  The  tree  is  the 
 IjluiUos,  and  the  phallos  is  the  May-pole  which  still  lingers  on  some  of  our 
 village  greens.  The  ship  of  Athene,  in  the  Panathenaic  pomp,  is  the  Yoni 
 of  the  Hindu,  and  the  Yoni  is  the  source  of  all  sensible  or  physical  life. 
 It  has  the  promise  and  potency  of  unnumbered  generations.  It  is  the 
 Argo  whicli  carries  all  the  heroes  of  the  Greek  world.  Thirty  years  ago 
 Dr.  Donaldson  thought  it  well  to  throw  over  these  statements  the  veil  of 
 what  is  commonly  spoken  of  as  a  learned  language.  It  is  too  late  to 
 adopt  such  devices  now.  To  pretend  ignorance  of  the  meaning  of  these 
 emblems  involves  something  not  far  removed  from  dishonesty  and  fraud. 
 What  we  have  to  note  especially  is  that  the  upright  emblem  was  invested 
 with  an  inherent  vitality,  and  put  forth  leaves,  in  the  Thyrsoi  of  the 
 Dionysian  worshippers  of  Hellas  not  less  than  in  the  budding  rod  of  Aaron. 
 It  became  the  tree  of  life,  the  rod  of  wealth  and  ha[)piness  given  by 
 Apollon  lu  Hermes,  the  mystic  spear  which  Abaris  received  from  the 
 Hyperborean  sun-god,  and  which  came  daily  to  Phoebus  in  his  time  of 
 banishment  laden  with  all  good  things.  As  the  palladion,  it  became  a 
 potent  guard  against  evil,  and  as  such,  took  many  forms,  as  in  the  lituus 
 of  the  augur,  the  crooked  staff  of  the  shepherd,  and  the  sceptre  of  the 
 king.  It  became  also  the  stauros,  or  pole,  or  cross  of  the  Egyptian  Osiris, 
 — the  guarantee  for  the  maintenance  and  multiplication  of  all  human  and 
 sentient  life,  the  guardian  and  helper  of  all  who  believed  in  its  protecting 
 l)0\ver.  It  evoked  impressions  of  devotion  scarcely  less  fervent  than  those 
 in  which  catholic  hymn-writers  have  sung  the  praises  of  the  Arbor  Vitse, 
 the  Crux  Salutifera  of  the  churches  of  Christendom. 
 
 But  the  chief  development  of  this  theology  was  connected  rather  with 
 the  oval  than  with  the  upright  emblem.  The  former,  as  we  have  said, 
 became  the  Argo  and  was  seen  again  in  the  shell  of  Aphrodite,  in  the  ship 
 of  Athene,  and  in  the  Lotos  ;  we  find  it  also  in  the  horn  of  Amaltheia,  the 
 nurse  of  Zeus,  who  gave  to  it  the  power  of  supplying  to  its  possessor 
 all  that  he  could  desire  to  have.  It  is  the  inexhaustible  table  of  the 
 Ethiopians,  the  wishing-quern  of  the  Norse  Frodi,  the  wonderful  well  of 
 Apollon  Thyrxis  in  Lykia,  the  cup  of  Rhea  and  Demeter,  and  the  modios 
 of  Serapis.  That  the  whole  imagery  of  the  story  of  the  Sangreal  is  directly 
 derived  from  the  language  applied  to  these  ancient  emblems,  any  may  see 
 who  will  examine  the  chapters  of  the  Arthurian  romance  which  deal  with 
 it.  The  myth  has  here  become  cleansed  and  purified.  No  degradation 
 could  well  be  greater  than  that  of  the  throngs  who  hurried  to  the  temples 
 of  the  Babylonian  Mylitta ;  but  we  have  seen  the  myth,  starting  from  its 
 crude  and  undisguised  forms,  assume  the  more  harmless  shapes  of  goblets 
 and  cups  of  fertility  and  plenty,  of  rings,  crosses,  and  spears,  until  finally, 
 in  the  Sangreal  legend,  the  symbols  have  become  a  sacred  thing  which 
 only  the   pure  in   heart  may  see  and   touch.     To  Lancelot,  who  acts  the 
 
 VOL.    I.  R 
 
242  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 part  of  Paris  in  the  Greek  tale,  it  either  remains  invisible,  or  is  seen  only 
 to  leave  him  stretched  senseless  on  the  earth.  The  myth,  which  degraded 
 the  Hierodoultoi  of  the  Corinthian  Aphrodite,  has  taken  its  fixed  shape  in 
 the  picture  of  unselfish  devotion  which  sheds  its  glory  on  the  career  of 
 Galahad.  The  teaching  of  the  Arthurian  romance  differed,  probably,  not 
 greatly  from  that  which  was  furnished  to  the  initiated  in  the  Eleusinian 
 and  other  mysteries  of  the  Hellenic  race. 
 
 In  these  mysteries  we  have  another  instrument  by  means  of  which  the 
 old  Greek  religion  and  religious  usages  have  influenced  those  of  the 
 Christian  world.  Of  the  Hellenic  mysteries  our  knowledge  is  unfortu- 
 nately scanty ;  but  we  have  no  reason  for  supposing  that  they  were  less 
 dramatic  in  character  than  those  of  Egypt  or  Hindustan.  There  is  no 
 doubt  that  the  acts  of  the  great  Eleusinian  festival  reproduced  incidents 
 in  the  myth  of  Demeter.  There  is  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  the  pro- 
 cessions of  Athene  and  Dionysos  at  Athens  exhibited  precisely  the  same 
 symbols  which  marked  the  worship  of  the  Hindu  Vishnu  and  Sacti,  of  the 
 Egyptian  Isis  and  the  Teutonic  Hertha.  The  substantial  identity  of  rites 
 furnishes  a  presumption  for  a  substantial  identity  of  doctrines  ;  and  these 
 doctrines  were  concerned  not  so  much  with  Zeus  or  ApoUon  or  other 
 deities  of  the  heavens,  as  with  those  of  the  under-world,  the  gods  of  the 
 productive  and  destructive  forces  of  nature  and  death.  As  such,  in  Dr. 
 Hatch's  judgment,  they  were  probably  "  the  survival  of  the  oldest  religion 
 of  the  Greek  races  and  of  the  races  which  preceded  them."  The  rites  of 
 Eleusis  were  originally  open  only  to  lonians,  just  as  we  have  seen  that 
 limitations  were  at  first  placed  on  the  right  of  taking  part  in  the  great 
 Olympian  or  Delphic  festivals.  Later  on  they  were  thrown  open  to  all 
 Greeks,  and  even  to  Romans,  and  to  women  as  well  as  to  men. 
 
 Scanty  as  our  knowledge  of  the  mysteries  and  their  ritual  may  be,  the 
 fact  that  they  have  very  largely  affected  the  worship  and  the  teaching  of 
 the  Christian  churches  can  be  proved,  we  may  fairly  say,  to  demonstration. 
 If  the  New  Testament  gospels  can  be  taken  as  in  any  degree  trustworthy 
 narratives  (and  of  this  I  say  nothing  here),  it  is  a  matter  of  certainty  that  the 
 great  Teacher  at  His  last  meal  with  His  disciples  bade  them  simply  to  re- 
 member Him  whenever  they  should  eat  bread  and  drink  wine,  these  being 
 symbols  or  signs  of  His  body  and  His  blood.  Whatever  the  meaning  of 
 these  terms,  it  is  certain  that  not  one  of  the  gospels  shows  a  trace  of  any 
 ritual  connected  with  the  giving  of  bread  and  wine.  There  is  no  initiation, 
 nor  is  there  the  least  secrecy.  We  are  told  that  He  gave  thanks  on  taking 
 the  bread  and  again  on  taking  the  wine.  But  there  is  absolutely  nothing 
 more,  and  the  passage  interpolated  into  the  eleventh  chapter  of  St.  Paul's 
 first  epistle  to  the  Corinthians  agrees  altogether  with  the  evangelic  narratives. 
 Everything  is  plain,  straightforward,  and  simple.  There  are  no  ceremonies, 
 and  no  forms  of  words  prescribed  as  necessary  to  be  used  in  these  com- 
 memorations. But  when  from  the  gospel  stories  we  turn  to  the  somewhat 
 later  history  of  the  Christian  Church,  we  find  that  a  great  change  has  been 
 
GREEK  AND  LA  TIN  RELIGIONS.  243 
 
 at  work.  Dr.  Hatch  declares  emphatically  that  "up  to  a  certain  time  there 
 is  no  evidence  that  Christianity  had  any  secrets.  It  was  presented  openly 
 to  the  world.  It  guarded  worship  by  imposing  a  moral  bar  to  admission. 
 But  its  rites  were  simple,  and  its  teaching  was  public.  After  a  certain  time 
 ail  is  changed  :  mysteries  have  arisen  in  the  once  open  and  easily  accessible 
 faith,  and  there  are  doctrines  which  must  not  be  declared  in  the  hearing  of 
 the  uninitiated."  The  very  names  by  which  the  ordinances  known  as  sacra- 
 ments are  described  have  been  changed.  "  .So  early  as  the  time  of  Justin 
 Martyr  we  find  a  name  given  to  baptism  which  comes  straight  from  the 
 Greek  mysteries,  the  name  enlightenment,  <^(uTto-/u.os.  It  came  to  be  the 
 constant  technical  term."  In  the  same  way  the  offerings  placed  upon  the 
 table  of  which  the  faithful  partook  came  to  be  called  mysteries,  the  final 
 result  being  that  by  the  end  of  the  fifth  century,  "every  Christian  ordinance 
 is  in  the  pages  of  the  Areopagite  Dionysios  e.xpressed  in  terms  which  are 
 applicable  to  the  mysteries." 
 
 Hut  what  were  the  specific  changes  introduced  by  the  influence  of  the 
 old  (ireck  religion  on  the  simple  commemoration  spoken  of  in  the  gospel 
 narratives  ?  There  are  at  least  some  points  in  the  ritual  of  the  mysteries 
 which  are  known  to  us,  and  which  are  as  prominent  in  modern  ritual  as 
 they  are  conspicuously  absent  from  the  evangelic  records.  We  know 
 that  the  ceremonial  began  with  the  proclamation  that  none'  should  enter 
 whose  hands  were  not  clean  and  whose  tongue  was  not  prudent.  This 
 proclamation.  Dr.  Hatch  remarks,  was  probably  accompanied  by  some 
 wortls  or  sights  of  terror.  We  hear  that  Nero  was  by  these  sights  or  words 
 deterred  from  jiresenting  himself  for  initiation  ;  but  nothing  can  be  built 
 on  such  a  tale.  The  sights  or  sounds  no  doubt  were  there ;  but  in  all 
 likelihood,  whatever  the  sights  may  have  been,  the  words  consisted  of  de- 
 nunciations threatening  all  hypocrites  or  unworthy  communicants  with  the 
 "  divers  diseases  and  sundry  kinds  of  death "  denounced  also  on  such 
 persons  in  the  English  order  for  the  administration  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 
 Whatever  may  have  been  the  outward  changes  which  it  introduced,  the 
 influence  of  the  Greek  mysteries  and  the  religious  societies  akin  to  them 
 was  exerted  on  an  enormous  scale  throughout  the  eastern  part  of  the 
 empire.  It  could  not  be  avoided.  It  could  scarcely  be  resisted,  if  it  were 
 only  for  this  reason,  that  the  majority  of  them  had,  in  Dr.  Hatch's  judg- 
 ment, the  same  aims  as  Christianity  itself,  being  in  fact  "  part  of  a  great 
 religious  revival  which  distinguishes  the  age."' 
 
 In  what  has  been  said  of  Greek  religion,  the  faith  of  the  Latin  tribes 
 has  been  drawn  out  in  its  chief  characteristics.  In  the  principles  which 
 underlay  the  original  Greek  eupatrid,  or  household  religion,  the  Roman 
 patricians,  who  regartled  themselves  as  exclusively  ihtpopulus,  polls,  or  state, 
 were  heartily  and  absolutely  agreed.  They  were  agreed  also  in  the  beliefs 
 which  dealt  with  the  action  of  such  beings  as  the  Fata,  or  Parcae,  on  the 
 conduct  of  human  life.  But  of  the  rich  and  wild  luxuriance  of  imagination 
 which   marked  the  religious   thought   of   the   Greek   the   Latin   showed 
 
244  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 scarcely  a  trace.     The  great  poets  of  the  Augustan  age  borrowed,  at  will, 
 from  the  vast  mass  of  Greek  mythical  tales,  and  set  before  their  country- 
 men a  mytliology  for  which  the  latter  never  had  any  genuine  liking,  and 
 to  which    they  felt  no  attraction.     On    the   people   of  the  country,   far 
 removed  from  town  influences,  these  foreign  narratives  seem  never  to  have 
 made  any  deep  or  permanent  impression,  or  perhaps  any  impression  at  all. 
 The  gods  of  this  country  population,  which  had  at  one  time  been  the  only 
 gods  worshipped   by  all  the  Latin  tribes,  were  practically  nothing  more 
 than  physical  processes  and  powers  called   by  the  names  which  naturally 
 expressed  them.     The  seed-time,  the  harvest,  the  cycle  of  the  seasons,  the 
 periods  and  fortunes  of  human  or  other  life,  the  garnering  and  grinding  of 
 grain,  all  these,  with  other  incidents  in  the  history  of  the  revolving  year, 
 were  marked  by  a  particular  name  ;  and  this  name  passed  for  that  of  the 
 gods  by  whom  these  processes  were  supposed   to  be  wrought.     For  the 
 Greeks  the  glory  of  human  life  was  intensified  in  the  persons  and  the  work 
 of  their  deities.     For  the   Latins,   their  gods,   although   their  name  was 
 legion,  remained  mysterious  beings  without  human  form  or  feeling  ;  and 
 they  influenced   human  affairs   without  having  any  sympathy  with  human 
 hopes,  fears,  or  joys.     Neither  had  they,  like  the  Greek  deities,  any  society 
 among  themselves.     There  was  for  them  no  Olympos  where  they  gathered 
 to  take  counsel  with  the  father  of  gods  and  men.     Tliey  had  no  parentage, 
 no  marriage,  no  offspring.     They  thus  became  a  mere  crowd  of  oppressive 
 beings,  living  beyond  the  circle  of  human   interests,  yet  constantly  inter- 
 fering within  it ;  and  so  between  them  and  their  worshippers  there  was  no 
 real  and  direct  connection.     In  Rome  itself,  and  probably  there  only,  the 
 Greek  deities  became  a  fashion,  and  were  honoured  with  an  exotic  worship. 
 The  true  Roman  ritual  was  that  which  had  for  its  object  the  worshipping 
 of  the  household  gods  ;  and  here  they  stood,  as  we  have  seen,  on  common 
 ground  with  the  Greek  eupatrid.     \\\  the  literature  of  Rome  the  genuine 
 deities  of  the  country  are  so  strangely  jumbled  up  with  the   importations 
 from  the  East,  that  it  becomes   sometimes   difficult  to  distinguish  the  one 
 from  the  other.     Still  we  can  see  plainly  enough  that  Jupiter  was  for  them, 
 in  a  greater  degree  than  for  the  Greeks,  the  god  of  the  heaven,  or  sky,  the 
 name  being  common  to  the  Aryan  races  generally  ;  and  that  Minerva  is  a 
 genuine  Latin  goddess  of  the  dawn,  the  name  being  manifestly  connected 
 with  promenervare,  used  in  the  Carmen  Saliare  as  equivalent  to  the  kindred 
 verb  monere,  to  advise  or  warn,  and  again  with  the  Latin  mens,  the  Greek 
 menos,  the  Sanskrit  manas,  mind,  and  the  Latin  inane,  morning.     To  the 
 same  source,  i)robably,  we  must  refer  the  name  Moneta  applied  to  Juno 
 as  the  guardian  of  the  Capitoline  saint.     We  need  take  only  a  few  more 
 examples,  if  we  would  wish  to  see  the  staple  of  the  old  Latin  beliefs.     We 
 might  suppose  that   the   name  of  the  Latin  Hercules  merely  reproduces 
 that  of  the  Greek  Herakles ;  but  the  names  have  probably  nothing  to  do 
 with  each  other.     As  a  Latin  god,  Hercules  seems  to  have  been  connected 
 with  boundaries  and  fences,  like  the  Zeus  Herkeios  of  the  Greeks ;  and  the 
 
GREEK  AND  LATIN  RELIGIONS.  245 
 
 earliest  form  of  the  name  was  seemingly  Hercles  or  Herclu";,  as  is  shown 
 by  the  po[)ular  exclamation  Mehercle,  and  Mehercule.  The  one  story  told 
 of  him  turns  on  an  exploit  of  a  being  called  Garanus,  or  Recaranus,  and 
 his  antagonist  answers  to  the  Vedic  Vritra,  the  enemy  of  Indra.  In  this 
 story  Caius  is,  what  his  name  implies,  a  one-eyed  monster  who  steals  the 
 cattle,  that  is,  the  rain-giving  clouds. 
 
 In  Saturnus,  whose  name  denotes  him  to  be  the  sower  of  the  seed,  we 
 have  a  deity  belonging  to  a  group  of  gods  which  represent  the  processes 
 going  on  from  seed-time  to  harvest  and  onward  to  seed-time  again.     With 
 him  we  may  take  Pilumnus,  Picumnus,  and  Semo  Sancus.     The  first  and 
 second  of  these  are  said  to  have  been  brothers,  and  were  worshipped  as 
 rural  deities ;    but  their  names  are    mere    epithets,    Pilumnus    being    the 
 grmder  of  corn,  and   Picumnus  the  tiller  of  the  earth.     The  names  Semo 
 Sancus  are  sometimes  taken  together  as  if  they  denoted  one  deity.     They 
 are  really  two,   Sancus  being,   like  the  Zeus   Pistios,  or   Horkios  of  the 
 Cireeks,  the  ratifier  of  oaths  or  contracts  ;  while  Semo,  like  Saturnus,  is  the 
 sower  of  the  seed.     After  the  same  fashion,  Pomona  is  a  goddess  of  fruit- 
 trees  and  their  fruits.     She  is  said  to  have  been  loved  by  Silvanus,  a  deity 
 of  the  woods  ;  by  Picus,  who  is  in  fact  Picumnus ;  and  by  Vertumnus,  the 
 god  of  the  changing  seasons.     In  these  returning  seasons  the  giver  of  plenty 
 is  known  as  Anna    Perenna,  of  whom  \'ergil  speaks  as  a  sister  of  the  Car- 
 thaginian Dido.     The  name  was  naturally  referred  to  the  words  annus  and 
 perennis  by  people  wlio  had  forgotten  its  meaning  ;  but  in  Sanskrit  we  have 
 a  deity  named  Apna  Purna,  who  is  bent  by  the  weight  of  her  full  breasts 
 anil  in  whom  all  good  is  united.     A  similar  idea  is  expressed  in  the  title 
 Bona  Dea,  a  sister  or  daughter  of  Faunus,  worshipped  by  women  only. 
 
 But  as  regards  the  religion  of  Italy,  the  Lares  are  of  far  more  import- 
 ance tlian  most  of  the  gods  who,  in  later  ages,  were  identified  with 
 (ireek  deities.  The  Lares  were  the  true  guardians  of  the  primitive  Latin 
 home,  which  we  have  already  examined  as  clearly  as  the  materials  at  our 
 command  enable  us.  They  were,  in  fact,  the  spirits  of  the  ancestors  who 
 had  each  in  turn  represented  the  first  progenitor  of  the  family..  They 
 were  commonly  addressed  as  Manes,  a  name  denoting  goodness  or  kind- 
 ness, like  tlKit  of  the  Greek  Eumenides.  It  recurs  in  the  name  of  the 
 Italian  goddess,  Afana,  and  in  the  word  imnnmis,  cruel.  The  spectres  of 
 the  dead  were  named  Larvne ;  those  of  them  who  were  supposed  to  be 
 capable  of  injuring  the  living  being  called  Lemures. 
 
 The  religious  and  philosophical  thought  of  the  old  Greek  world  has 
 exercised  a  vast  influence,  direct  and  indirect,  on  the  theology  of  Christen- 
 dom. The  influence  of  the  old  Roman  religion  shows  itself  not  less 
 prominently  in  the  thaumaturgy  of  the  Latin  church,  and  in  all  the  usages 
 connected  with  it.  The  latter  is  perhaps  of  scarcely  less  moment  than 
 the  former.  Marvels  and  prodigies  constitute  the  title  deeds  of  sacer- 
 dotalism :  and  until  the  belief  in  them  is  absolutely  extinguished  the 
 domination  of  the  priestly  order  must  continue. 
 
THE  INFLUENCE  OF  PAGANISM  ON 
 CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Bv  C.  F.  Keary. 
 
 Some  years  ago,  eight  or  ten  I  daresay,  I  happened,  when  passing  down 
 Tottenham  Court  Road,  to  be  the  witness  of  a  little  ceremony  which  I 
 daresay  a  great  many  of  you  have  seen  somewhere  or  other  in  London, 
 which  is,  at  any  rate,  I  have  no  doubt,  to  be  seen  every  year. 
 
 I  was  passing  one  of  the  great  furniture  shops  in  that  street,  when  the 
 door  opened,  and  there  issued  from  it,  instead  of  the  one  or  two  shoppers 
 whom  one  might  have  expected  to  see,  a  beadle  in  all  the  glory  of  his 
 official  costume,  followed  by  a  crowd  of  boys,  some  of  whom  carried  white 
 sticks,  peeled  osier  or  willow  I  suppose. 
 
 The  beadle  stopped  at  a  mark  on  the  pavement,  and  the  boys  set  to 
 work  to  beat  it  with  their  sticks.  This  was,  in  fact,  what  we  are  all 
 familiar  enough  with  by  name,  the  custom  which  is  called  "  beating  the 
 bounds." 
 
 If  you  have  ever  seen  this  performance,  you  could  hardly  help  being 
 struck,  as  I  was,  by  its  extreme  ridiculousness  in  itself.  But  if  you 
 happened  to  be  at  all  interested  in  studying  the  history  of  customs  and 
 ceremonies,  the  very  ridiculousness  of  this  one  would  have  been  rather 
 attractive  to  you,  because  you  would  have  said  to  yourself,  "This  cannot 
 be  the  original  form  of  the  ceremony  I  am  looking  at.  There  must  have 
 been  some  more  reasonable  and  sensible  form,  which  has  got  decayed,  so 
 to  say,  to  this  unmeaning  ceremony.  ^Vhat  was  it?"  Now,  suppose  a 
 man  who  had  given  a  good  deal  of  time  to  studying  the  history  of  institu- 
 tions and  customs,  but  who  had  never  before  heard  of  this  custom  of 
 beating  the  bounds,  to  see  what  I  saw  in  Tottenham  Court  Road,  he 
 would,  I  think,  at  once  fix  upon  the  most  absurd  part  of  the  present 
 custom  as  probably  the  most  ancient  (because,  you  see,  it  is  natural  that 
 the  oldest  i)art  should  be  the  part  the  meaning  of  which  has  been  most 
 completely  lost  sight  of),  and,  of  course,  this  most  ridiculous  part  of  the 
 ceremony  is  the  custom  of  beating  the  pavement.  But  he  might  go  on 
 farther,  and  say  to  himself,  "  Beating  implies  some  one  to  beat ;  the  sticks 
 could  not  have  been  meant  originally  to  fall  on  the  back  of  the  flag  stones 
 in  'I'ottenham  Court  Road."  And  he  might  make  a  good  guess  at  the  real 
 origin  of  the  custom  by  saying,  "  How  if,  originally,  the  boys  in  this  cere- 
 mony, instead  of  beating  something  else,  had  to  be  beaten  themselves  ?  " 
 
 That  is  a  guess  which  he  might  make  merely  from  his  natural  acuteness, 
 
 246 
 
THE  INFLUENCE   OF  PAGANISM  ON  CHRISTIANITY.     247 
 
 and  the  guess  would  be  the  right  one.  That  is  the  real  fact  of  the  case. 
 1  don't  know  that  anybody  would  find  it  out  by  merely  guess-work  in  the 
 way  I  have  supposed.  But  we  know  well  enough,  as  a  fact,  that  a  differ- 
 ent and,  for  the  principal  actors,  a  much  less  agreeable  form  of  beating 
 the  bounds  is  still  practised  in  some  countries,  and  was  still  practised  not 
 more  than  a  hundred  years  ago  in  some  parts  of  our  own. 
 
 I  read  only  the  other  day  in  a  sort  of  magazine,  published  about  sixty 
 years  ago,  a  letter  from  a  man  who  said  that  he  remembered  how  the 
 beating  of  the  bounds  was  carried  out  in  Cumberland  in  his  childhood. 
 There  the  boys  or  some  boys  in  the  village  were  actually  taken  to  certain 
 boundary  marks,  and  received  a  good  thrashing  at  each.  And  in  connec- 
 tion with  the  same  ceremony,  he  mentioned  another  custom  which,  as  I 
 hope  presently  to  show  you,  had  probably  its  roots  in  a  very  remote  past. 
 The  same  day  on  which  the  bounds  were  marked  out,  the  clergyman  of  the 
 parish  used  to  go  to  three  or  four  set  trees,  which  stood  at  different  parts 
 of  the  parish  boundaries,  and  read  a  portion  of  the  gospel  of  the  day  from 
 each  ;  or  sometimes  he  would  preach  a  short  sermon,  taking  his  text  from 
 the  gospel  for  the  day.  These  trees,  which  were  of  course  landmarks  in 
 fixing  tiie  limits  of  the  various  parishes,  were  called  gospel  trees  or  gospel 
 oaks.  And  you  know  that  there  is  a  station  in  the  north  of  London  which 
 still  preserves  this  name  Gospel  Oak.  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  public- 
 house  from  which  the  station  took  its  name  stood  on  or  near  the  site  of  one 
 of  these  gospel  trees. 
 
 The  older  form  of  the  ceremony  of  beating  the  bounds  was  not  of  course 
 a  pleasant  practice  so  far  as  the  boys  were  concerned  ;  but  I  daresay  you 
 will  see  the  use  of  it  if  you  consider  a  moment.  Suppose  a  state  of  society 
 in  which  maps  and  charts  do  not  exist,  when  title-deeds  and  the  lawyers' 
 offices  that  contain  them  are  unknown.  You  will  see  that  in  such  a  state 
 of  things  there  really  are  no  means  of  preserving  the  memory  of  the  boun- 
 daries of  a  parish,  or,  let  me  rather  say,  of  a  village,  except  the  recollection 
 which  the  inhabitants  have  of  it.  Taken  for  example,  that  two  neighbour- 
 ing villages  have  agreed  together  that  such  and  such  a  tree,  such  and  such 
 a  rock,  such  a  portion  of  a  stream,  should  mark  the  boundary  between 
 them  ;  suppose  that  years  and  years  have  passed  without  there  being  any 
 dispute  over  the  matter,  but  that  at  last  a  dispute  arises,  what  can  the 
 villagers  have  to  refer  to  in  such  case  but  that  which  still  has  to  be  called 
 into  evidence  sometimes,  and  which  still  has  a  place  in  our  law  books,  what 
 is  called  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant  ?  But  the  oldest  inhabitant 
 at  the  time  the  dispute  arose  was  likely  enough  a  very  young  inhabitant  at 
 the  time  the  boundary  was  fixed.  If  he  had  been  then  a  mere  boy,  he 
 would  have  had  no  natural  interest  in  the  mere  determining  of  the  boun- 
 daries itself.  How  to  give  him  an  interest — of  a  certain  sort  ?  That  is 
 the  question.  People  foresaw  that  his  memory  might  be  called  upon.  The 
 way  they  hit  upon  was  to  give  him  and  his  comrades  a  thrashing  at  the 
 important  boundary  mark,  and  to  hope  that  that  would  impress  it  upon 
 
248  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 their  minds.    Such  is  the  origin  of  that  unmeaning  ceremony  which  we  still 
 keep  up  as  "  beating  the  bounds."      I  chose  this  illustration  in   order  to 
 show  how  some  common  custom  of  to-day  may,  if  we  are  at  all  given  to 
 historical  studies,  take  our  thoughts  back  to  a  very  remote  past,  a  time 
 so  remote  that  there  were  no  written  records,  and  no  means  of  preserving 
 the  recollection  of  such  things  as  boundaries,  except  the  memory  of  the 
 people  themselves.      Such  a  time  would  take  us  back  in  our  own  history 
 before  the  conversion  of  our  forefathers   to  Christianity,  before  probably 
 our  English  forefathers  ever  came  into  this  country.      For,  as  I  suppose 
 you   know,  the  English  race  was   originally  German  ;  we  came  into  this 
 country  as  conquerors  from  Germany,  and  our  remotest  history  takes  us 
 back  to  a  time  when  our  forefathers  lived  side  by  side  with  the  ancestors 
 of  the  Germans  of  to-day.     Having  got  thus  far,  I  will  ask  you  to  lend  me 
 your  imaginations,  while  I  try  and  draw  to  you  some  picture  of  the  primi- 
 tive, the  very  early  life  of  our  far-away  ancestors,  as  far  back  as  we  have 
 any  clear  traces  of  them  in  the  abyss  of  time.     Then  towns  were  not ; 
 people  were  only  grouped  together  in  villages.    The  picture  must  not  stand 
 in  England,  for,  as  I  have  just  said,  it  belongs  to  a  time  so  remote  that 
 it  lies  before  the  coming  of  our  forefathers  into  this  country.     We  should 
 take,  for  instance,  the  country  which  was  afterwards  called  Old  Saxony,  I 
 mean  after  our  Saxon  forefathers  had  settled  in  England,  which  thus  became 
 New  Saxony.     This  country  of  Old  Saxony  was  described  years  after  the 
 remote  period  of  which  I  am  thinking  as  so  thickly  wooded  that  a  squirrel 
 might  travel  for  seven  leagues  without  needing  to  touch  the  ground.    Wild 
 nature  was  everywhere  ;  the  clearings  and  villages  which  were  the  signs  of 
 man's  habitation,  appeared  only  like  islands  in  the  midst  of  the  waste. 
 
 In  this  world  of  forest  or,  where  not  a  forest,  of  heath   or  moor,  each 
 village  was,  in  a  certain  sense,  a  tribe — a  nation  to  itself.      Of  course  the 
 people  altogether,  that  is  to  say,  groups   of  many  villages,  constituted  a 
 larger  nation  ;  but  there  might  still  remain  a  good  deal  of  internal  strife  or 
 half  hostility  between  village  and  village.      And  the   stronger  the  village 
 was,  the  more  it  made   it  a  point  of  honour  to   keep  round   itself  a  wide 
 belt  of  waste  country  or  forest  land,  which  it  claimed  as,  to  a  certain  extent, 
 its  own.     The  real  boundary  of  the  village  lay  outside  this  claimed  terri- 
 tory ;  but  over  the  greater  part  of  this  wild  country  most  of  the  inhabitants 
 never  passed.      Their  own  houses  did  not  stand  close  together  ;  and  you 
 must  not  think  of  a  modern  English  village  when  I  use  this  word.    You  must 
 think  of  houses,  or  rather  small,  one-roomed  wooden  huts  scattered  here  and 
 there  among  the  forest  trees,  very  likely  only  one  or  two  being  visible  at 
 the  same  time.     But  still  there  were  paths,  no  doubt,  from  house  to  house, 
 and  there  were  places,  no  doubt,  where  the  villagers  met  from  time  to  time 
 for  merry-makings,  or   to    hold  a  village  council,  or  for  some   religious 
 ceremony.     All  round,  however,  this  familiar  territory  there  lay  the  vast 
 unknown,  uncultivated  forest  or  heath.     The   more  warlike  part  of  the 
 villagers,  the  young  men,  probably,  who  thought   themselves  superior  to 
 
THE  INFLUENCE   OF  PAGANISM  ON  CHRISTIANITY.     249 
 
 agricultural  pursuits,  spent  their  time  in  hunting  over  this  wild  country. 
 To  a  certain  extent  this  forest  land  was  committed  to  their  charge,  for  the 
 village  still  claimed  it  as  its  own  property,  and  the  invasion,  without  leave, 
 of  this  country  by  any  stranger  would  be,  as  you  like  to  put  it,  either  an 
 act  of  trespass  or  a  declaration  of  war.  Thus,  from  the  earliest  time,  we 
 can  trace  a  certain  division  in  the  life  of  our  forefathers,  that  is  to  say, 
 between  the  life  of  the  more  peaceful  villagers  and  that  of  the  warlike  por- 
 tion of  the  inhabitants. 
 
 It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  forest  land  that  our  heathen  forefathers  had 
 their  holy  places,  what  served  them  in  the  place  of  temples  and  the 
 homes  of  their  gods.  For  our  heathen  forefathers  did  not  buiM  temples. 
 "  The  Germans,"  says  the  Roman  writer  who  has  told  us  most  about  our 
 German  forefathers,  "  build  no  fanes  and  make  no  images  for  worship  ; 
 but  in  the  midst  of  their  forest  recesses  they  call  upon  the  unseen  Presence, 
 which  they  honour  under  the  names  of  various  gods."  And  it  is  a  curious 
 thing  that  when,  in  later  years,  these  people  learnt  the  notion  of  a  temple 
 or  a  house  for  the  gods,  they  gave  it  a  name  which  literally  means  "  grove," 
 showing  that  the  original  dwelling-places  of  their  gods  had  been  in  the 
 midst  of  groves. 
 
 The  author  whom  I  have  just  quoted  gives  us  an  account  of  one  par- 
 ticular grove  which  was  renowned  far  and  wide  among  one  of  the  great 
 divisions  of  the   German  people,  and  whither  people  used  to  come  long 
 distances  as  on  a  sort  of  pilgrimage.     Human  sacrifices  were  offered  there 
 to  the  chief  god  among  the  ancient  Germans.     Those  who  entered  the 
 sacred  enclosure  did  so  with  chains  round  their  necks  to  show  their  sub- 
 jection to  the  god  ;  if  a  man  fell  down  while  inside  the  grove,  he  might  not 
 raise  himself  upright  again,  but  must  crawl  out  on  hands  and  knees.     And 
 there  are  other  descriptions  of  sacred  groves,  and  of  the  victims  (animals 
 of  all  kinds,  not  excluding  men)  being  brought  to  them  and  hung  upon  the 
 trees.     "Single  trees,"  says  a  certain  author,  "are  accounted  so  sacred, 
 that  they  themselves  receive  a  sacrifice."     Can  we  doubt  that  two  friendly 
 villages,  or  friendly  tribes,  worshipping,  as  they  would  do,  the  same  gods, 
 would  often  have  a  common  sacred  grove  (for  that  sacred  grove  of  which  I 
 spoke  just  now  was  common  to  a  whole  nation  of  separate  tribes),  and  that 
 this  sacred  grove  would  stand  as   near  as  might  be  midway  between  the 
 two  villages  which  united  in  worship  there,  that  is,  in  the  very  middle  of 
 their  boundary  forest.     In  such  a  grove  there  would  be  one  tree  which  was 
 more  holy  than  the  others,  a  single  tree  like  those  spoken  of  in  the  passage 
 quoted  above,  "  which  was  counted  so  sacred,  that  the  victims  were  hung 
 on  it,  and  sacrifices  (for  that  is  what  our  auihor  intends)  offered  to  it  as  to 
 a  god.     When  ages  passed  by,  and  the  boundary  waste  between  village 
 and  village  was  cultivated,  these  most  sacred  trees  would  be  left  standing, 
 or  new  trees  which  grew  upon  the  sites  would  be  held  as  sacred.     And  I 
 make  bold  to  guess  that  just  in  the  same  way  that  beating  the  bounds  takes 
 us  back  to  primeval  days  almost,  or,  at  any  rate,  to  days  of  extreme  anti- 
 
250  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD, 
 
 quily,  so  do  those  "gospel  oaks"  on  the  boundaries  of  a  parish,  and  the 
 custom  of  preaching  from  them,  take  us  back  to  the  days  of  the  sacred 
 groves  of  our  forefathers,  and  to  the  time  when  what  became  in  Christian 
 days  the  gospel  oak  was  the  sacred  tree  of  that  heathen  grove. 
 
 The  chief  gods  worshipped  in  this  wise  by  our  forefathers  were  those 
 from  whom  we  have  inherited  the  three  central  days  of  the  week — Tuesday, 
 Wednesday,  and  Thursday.  Tuesday  is  the  day  of  Tew  or  Tiw  ;  Wednes- 
 day, the  day  of  Wodin  or  Wedan,  or  Odin,  as  he  was  called  in  the  north  ; 
 Thursday  is  Thor's  day.  I  cannot  say  tiiat  these  days  of  the  week  have 
 been  so  called  precisely  because  they  were  days  left  holy  to  Tew,  Wodin, 
 and  Thor.^  But,  at  any  rate,  these  names  of  the  days  of  the  week  pre- 
 serve the  memory  of  the  gods  of  our  forefathers.  Friday  preserves  the 
 memory  of  a  goddess — Freyja  is  a  goddess  of  Spring  and  of  Love. 
 
 Of  these  gods,  the  two  whose  character  stands  out  most  vividly  before  us 
 
 are  Wodin  and  Thor.    Both  were  gods  of  the  storm.    Wodin  rode  through 
 
 the  air  on  the  swiftest  of  horses  (the  wind),  Thor  drove  rumbling  over  the 
 
 hills  in  his  chariot  (the  thunder),  and  wielded  a  miraculous  hammer  (the 
 
 crusher),  which  had  this  faculty,  that  when  hurled  from  the  hand  it  struck 
 
 the  victim,  and  then,  like  a  boomerang,  returned  to  the  hand  which  sent  it 
 
 forth.    Of  Tiw  (called  in  the  Scandinavian  lands  Tyr)  we  know  less.    What 
 
 seems  highly  probable  is  that  each  of  these  three  divinities,  the  chief  made 
 
 divinities  among  the  ancient  Germans,  among  our  ancestors,  among  the 
 
 ancestors  of  Norsemen,  Danes,  and  Swedes  alike,  were  at  one  time  very 
 
 nearly  akin,  and  each  at  one   time  was  more  than  anything  a  god  of  the 
 
 overarching  sky.     But  in  obedience  to  the  warlike  character  of  those  who 
 
 worshipped  them,  these  gods  became  gods  rather  of  the  stormy  sky  than  of 
 
 the  clear  heaven  ;  they  became  gods  of  the  storm,  of  the  wind,  and  of  the 
 
 thunder,  and  in  so  doing  they  became  pre-eminently  gods  of  battle.     For 
 
 of  course  men  of  all  ages  have  confounded  the   ideas  of  storm  and  of 
 
 battle,  as  their  language  shows  well  enough.     We  to-day  tell  of  the  storm 
 
 of  battle,  and  the  battle  of  the  elements.     And  an  ancient  heathen  poem 
 
 calls  the  battle 
 
 "The  storm  of  spears,  the  wrath  of  Wodin." 
 
 If,  then,  we  want  to  gain  one  picture  more  characteristic  than  any  other 
 of  the  religion  of  our  heathen  forefathers,  we  must  fancy  them  waiting  in 
 these  dark  groves  until  the  storm  draws  nigh,  and  when  they  hear  the 
 wind  howling  through  the  trees,  let  us  fancy  them  falling  upon  their  faces, 
 not  daring  to  look  up  until  the  storm  has  gone  by  ;  for  in  the  unseen  being 
 who  meets  tlie  storm  they  recognise  the  unseen  presence  which,  as  the 
 Roman  author  says,  they  called  by  the  names  of  various  gods.     Or  let  me 
 
 '  The  origin  of  our  names  for  tlie  days  of  the  week  is  rather  this.  Our  remoter  ances- 
 tors had  a  week  of  nine  days.  Hut  when  they  became  acquainted  with  the  Roman  week 
 of  seven  days  they  adopted  that.  They  found  the  days  of  the  week  called  after  certain 
 Koman  divinities.  .Some  of  these  names  they  kept  ;  for  others  they  substituted  the  name 
 of  their  own  god  in  place  of  the  Koman  god — Tiw  for  Mars,  Wodin  for  Mercury,  Thor 
 for  Jove. 
 
THE  INFLUENCE   OF  PAGANISM  ON  CHRISTIANITY.     25 r 
 
 quote  a  descri[)tion  from  a  contcmj>orary  writer  upon  the  religion  of  our 
 heathen  forefathers  : — 
 
 "  If  in  these  days,"  says  the  author,  "  we  wish  to  feel  the  mystic  presence 
 of  the  great  god  of  the  Germans,  let  us  do  as  our  worshipping  forefathers 
 did,  withdraw  from  the  concourse  of  men,  find  out  some  forest  solitude, 
 and  wait  there.  Let  it  be  in  one  of  the  vast  stretches  of  pine-forest  in  the 
 north  of  (Germany  ;  perliai)s  in  the  very  spot  where  lay  that  haunted  grove 
 which  Tacitus  describes.  There  you  will  feel  as  you  should  the  strange 
 and  awful  stillness  which  from  time  to  time  reigns  in  f  jrests  such  as  these. 
 Presently  the  quiet  is  broken,  first  by  a  sound  like  a  low  sigh  which  arises, 
 as  if  from  the  ground  itself,  and  breathes  throughout  the  wood.  Next  from 
 the  distance  anotlier  sound  is  heard,  so  like  the  sound  of  the  sea,  that  you 
 might  swear — had  you  never  been  in  such  a  place  before — that  you  could 
 hear  the  waves  drawing  back  over  the  pebbly  beach.  As  it  approaches,  the 
 sound  grows  into  a  roar.  It  is  the  roar  of  the  tempest — the  coming  of 
 Wodin." 
 
 According  to  the  accounts  which  come  to  us  from  the  Scandinavian 
 countries,  tliere  was  one  other  characteristic  of  Wodin's  ride  througli  tlie 
 air,  which  must  not  be  forgotten.  There  rode  with  him  a  certain  troop  of 
 maidens,  a  sort  of  northern  Amazon,  who  were  known  as  the  helm-maidens 
 or  sheep-maidens  of  Wodin.  These  maidens,  too,  rode  on  horses  or  bare- 
 backed steeds,  and  in  one  beautiful  passage  describing  these  horses  of 
 Wodin's  helm-maidens,  it  says  : — 
 
 "  Their  horses  shook  themselves,  and  from  their  manes  there  fell 
 Dew  in  the  deep  dales,  and  on  the  high  hills  hail," 
 
 which  shows  clearly  enough  that  in  the  conception  of  that  poet,  at  any 
 rate,  the  horses  which  these  Amazons  rode  were  like  Wodin's  horse — the 
 clouds. 
 
 This  is  enough  to  give  one  side  (the  most  important  side)  of  the  religion 
 of  our  heathen  forefathers  ;  perhaps  I  shoyld  rather  say,  enough  to  suggest 
 this  side  of  their  belief;  and  even  so  it  needs  that  you  should  do  your 
 utmost  to  bring  your  imaginations  to  bear  upon  the  picture.  You  have 
 as  far  as  possible,  to  listen  with  their  ears  to  the  howl  of  the  wind  in  deep 
 forest  recesses,  or  in  desolate  tracts  around,  to  listen  with  their  ears  to  the 
 rumble  or  the  crash  of  the  thunder,  distant  or  near,  and  try  and  realize 
 how  the  storm  sounded  in  the  ears  of  those  to  whom  it  gave  audible  token 
 of  the  approach  of  a  god.  To  those  who  lived  most  peacefully  in  the 
 centre  of  the  village,  by  the  clearings  and  the  homesteads,  and  who  did  not 
 often  venture  out  into  the  dimmer  groves,  these  were  sounds  of  almost  un- 
 mixed terror.  But  the  more  warlike  portion  of  the  villagers,  those  who 
 spent  half  their  days  in  hunting  through  these  same  wild  tracts  of  country, 
 or  whose  duty  it  was  to  station  themselves  in  the  forest  region  to  guard 
 against  the  danger  of  invasion,  these  would  deem  themselves  the  very 
 companions  of  the  war  god,  his  chosen  x.-  and  children. 
 
252  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 These  were  the  majority,  or,  at  any  rate,  the  ruling  spirits,  and  it  was 
 through  them  that  the  ancient  heathenism  took  its  fierce  and  warlike  char- 
 acter. Still,  tJiere  was  a  more  peaceful  side.  There  were  some  gods — 
 and  still  more  goddesses — who  belonged  to  this  side  of  their  belief — 
 goddesses  of  the  hearth  and  of  simple  domestic  duties.  Some  of  the 
 names  of  these  are  still  preserved  in  German  popular  sayings  and  German 
 popular  superstitions.  And  it  is  natural,  when  we  come  to  think  of  it,  that 
 these  peaceful  divinities  should  be  better  remembered  in  Germany  than 
 elsewhere  ;  for  the  more  warlike  of  the  heathen  Germans  of  old  time  (like 
 our  own  ancestors)  migrated  out  of  Germany,  and  so  the  more  peaceful 
 must  have  been  left  behind. 
 
 One  name  of  an  ancient  goddess  which  is  much  used  to-day  is  Bertha, 
 originally  Perchsa,  the  "  Bright  one,"  who  exists  in  popular  superstition, 
 as  Frau  Bertha,  Mrs.  Bertha.  Another  is  Frau  Holda.  If  women  spinning 
 flax  leave  some  upon  the  distaves  at  night,  Frau  Holda  is  supposed  to 
 come  and  tangle  it  all  before  the  next  morning,  as  a  punishment  for  their 
 idleness.  This  is  especially  likely  to  happen  at  the  time  of  year  which  has 
 only  lately  passed,  what  are  called  the  Twelve  Days,  from  Christmas  to  the 
 sixth  of  January,  the  Epiphany.  Those  twelve  days  are,  it-is  certain,  con- 
 nected quite  as  much  with  the  ancient  German  religion  as  with  the  Christian. 
 Yule-tide,  or  New  Year's  Day,  which  falls  in  the  very  centre  of  these 
 twelve  days,  was  the  greatest  feast  among  our  heathen  ancestors.  When 
 the  snow  falls,  the  Germans  say  to-day  that  Frau  Bertha  is  making  her  bed, 
 and  it  is  the  feathers  from  the  bed  which  are  falling  to  the  ground. 
 
 A  goddess  formerly  known  in  this  country  was  Ostara,  gr  Eastre,  whose 
 festival,  celebrated  in  the  spring,  came  to  be  confounded  with  the  Church 
 festival  of  the  resurrection,  to  which  it  has  given  (strangely  enough)  its 
 name,  the  name  of  the  goddess  of  our  heathen  ancestors. 
 
 But  the  worship  of  the  goddesses  who  were,  for  the  most  part,  divinities 
 of  the  spring,  or  of  the  harvest,  or  of  the  hearth  and  home,  formed  a  small 
 part  of  the  creed  of  our  ancestors,  beside  the  worship  of  the  war-gods  ;  and 
 it  is  on  this  side  of  their  creed  that  we  must  chiefly  fix  our  attention. 
 
 For  now  let  the  centuries  pass  on.  The  German  races  grow  more  and 
 more  into  nations,  and  become  the  great  conquering  people  of  the  world. 
 Some  invade  Italy,  some  Spain  and  Africa,  some  France  ;  our  own  ances- 
 tors, as  you  know,  take  possession  of  this  country.  The  nations  or  tribes 
 who  perform  these  several  feats  bear  different  names,  but  they  all  belong 
 to  the  same  stock  ;  they  all  originally  came  out  of  Germany,  and  we  know 
 that  the  religion  of  all  was  the  same.  So  far  as  their  religion  goes,  the 
 German  races  in  these  different  lands  all  underwent  the  same  fate,  each 
 was  sooner  or  later  converted  to  Christianity.  The  missionary  comes  among 
 them — we  have  accounts  of  these  conversions — and  preaches  to  the  people. 
 If  he  is  a  very  bold  man,  he  sets  to  work  to  cut  down  the  sacred  trees  of 
 the  villagers,  or  their  most  sacred  grove.  Sometimes  he  pays  the  penalty 
 for  his  rashness,   sometimes,  according  to   the  accounts,  his  preaching  is 
 
THE  INFLUENCE   OF  PAGANISM  ON  CHRISTIANri'Y.     253 
 
 vindicated  by  a  miracle.  Anyway  he  at  last  succeeds  ;  and  on  the  very 
 place  where  stood  the  grove  sacred  to  Wodin  there  stands  now  a  cluirch 
 dedicated  to  the  new  faith.  This  plan  of  building  the  church  upon  the 
 very  spot  which  was  sacred  to  the  old  religion  we  know  to  have  been 
 generally  adopted  ;  and  it  was  typical  of  the  whole  procedure  of  Christi- 
 anity when  she  set  to  work  to  convert  our  heathen  forefathers.  As  far  as 
 possible  j:)laces  which  were  sacred  before  were  i)ermitted  to  remain  still 
 sacred,  only  they  somewhat  changed  their  character. 
 
 Think  of  how  many  places  there  are,  both  in  this  country  and  in  Ger- 
 many, or,  again,  in  the  Scandinavian  countries,  which  still  bear  the  name  of 
 the  heathen  gods.  Such  a  place  as  ^Vednesfield  is  really  Wodinsfield, 
 Wednesbury  is  Wodensbuy,  or  bury.  We  have  Thurfield  or  Thorsfield ; 
 Thorsdyke,  Thursford,  Thurso,  are  a  few  of  the  English  names  which  com- 
 memorate the  great  gods  of  heathendom.  Baldersly  is  another,  preserving 
 the  name  of  the  northern  god  Balder,  a  god  of  peace  and  of  spring-time. 
 I  could  mention  fifty  names  of  the  same  sort  if  I  were  to  go  to  France  and 
 Germany, 
 
 Still  more  striking  is  the  way  in  which  the  sacred  seasons  of  heathendom 
 have  been  i)reserved  in  Christianity.  The  most  important  festival  of  our 
 heathen  forefathers  fell  about  the  time  in  which  we  now  celebrate  the 
 greatest  Christian  festival,  the  birth  of  Christ.  We  cannot,  however,  say 
 that  in  this  case  the  accommodation  of  one  festival  to  the  other  has  been 
 mainly  other  than  accidental.  What  is  the  proper  season  for  celebrating 
 Christmas  we  cannot  tell.  The  tradition  which  placed  the  birth  of  Christ 
 at  the  particular  season  of  the  year  at  which  we  celebrate  it,  is  only  a  tra- 
 dition. No  information  upon  the  subject  is  to  be  extracted  from  the 
 gospels.  But  it  suited  very  well  with  the  creed  of  our  heathen  forefathers 
 that  this  tradition  should  be  observed.  For  their  most  sacred  and  most 
 festive  season  was  just  that  of  the  new  year  ;  and  as  it  is  (as  I  have 
 already  pointed  out)  their  greatest  festival  Yule — New  Year's  day — falls 
 precisely  in  the  middle  of  the  twelve  days  between  Christmas  and 
 Epiphany. 
 
 So  it  was,  as  we  have  just  shown,  with  Easter. 
 
 The  method,  moreover,  of  celebrating  this  festive  season  unquestionably 
 dates  rather  from  heathen  than  from  Christian  times  ;  for  we  have  records 
 sufiicient  of  the  way  Yule  was  kept  in  Scandinavian  countries  in  days  when 
 the  inhabitants  were  still  Odin-worshippers  to  show  that  the  festival  was  as 
 like  as  might  be  to  our  Christmas.  Even  in  our  day  popular  superstitions, 
 stories  of  magic,  especially  of  what  we  may  call  natural  magic,  cluster 
 round  Yuletide  as  they  do  round  other  seasons  of  the  year.  During  the 
 mysterious  "  Twelve  days  "  the  beasts  in  the  stall  are  supposed  to  acquire 
 the  gift  of  human  speech.  They  prophecy  the  events  of  the  coming  year, 
 if  any  man  is  fortunate  enough  to  hear  them.  Each  day  of  these  twelve 
 days  is  a  prophecy  of  the  corresponding  month  of  the  twelve.  If  it  is  fine 
 that  day  the  corresponding  month  will  be  fine  ;  if  the  day  is  rainy  or  stormy, 
 
2  54  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 so  will  the  corres[)onding  month  be.  Of  course  all  these  magic  properties 
 of  the  twelve  days  culminate  during  the  central  night,  New  Year's  eve,  which 
 is  in  popular  superstition  in  Germany  to-day  a  much  more  important  night 
 than  Christmas  eve.  On  New  Year's  eve  people  make  visits  at  midnight 
 to  their  fruit-trees,  and  sing  a  rhyme  round  them — the  relic  of  some  heathen 
 incantation,  or  they  dress  them  with  ribbons,  a  relic  of  the  victims  offered 
 to  trees  in  the  old  days,  or  sprinkle  them  with  water,  a  mixture  be- 
 tween a  Christian  and  a  heathen  rite.  These  rites  are  supposed  to  make 
 the  trees  fruitful  during  the  coming  year.  People  do  these  things,  I  say, 
 still  in  Germany;  but  it  is  only  quite  of  late  that  these  customs  have 
 decayed  in  England.  If  you  read  Hone's  "  Year  Book"  or  "  Day  Book," 
 or  Brand's  ''Popular  Superstitions,"  or  Strutt's  "  Sports  and  Pastimes," 
 you  will  find  records  sufficient  of  the  same  beliefs. 
 
 I  have  already  referred  to  the  fact  that  the  great  Christian  festival  has 
 taken  its  name  (in  our  country)  from  a  goddess  of  our  forefathers.  And  I 
 do  not  think  that  it  would  be  possible  to  produce  any  stronger  proof  that 
 the  passage  from  the  older  creed  to  the  new  was  not  a  violent  transition, 
 and  that  there  was  plenty  of  room,  therefore,  for  the  beliefs  and  customs 
 which  belonged  to  the  former  creed  to  find  a  place  in  the  latter. 
 
 Though  the  Christians  (in  England)  adopted  the  name  of  the  festival  of 
 Ostara  or  Eastre,  for  their  own  festival,  I  imagine  that  the  worship  of  the 
 spring  goddess  is  best  represented  by  the  May-day  celebrations  which,  in 
 our  country,  were  always  the  next  most  important  after  the  celebrations  of 
 Yulelide,  which  have,  of  course,  very  nearly  disappeared  from  among  us 
 now.  I  need  not  remind  you  of  what  these  May-day  celebrations  were 
 like,  of  how  the  boys  and  girls  from  the  villages  used  to  go  out  into  the 
 neighbouring  wood  to  cut  the  May-pole,  which  was  carried  home  on  a 
 wagon  drawn  by  as  many  as  twenty  or  forty  yoke  of  oxen,  "  and  every 
 oxen  hath  a  nosegay  of  sweete  flowers  tied  to  the  top  of  his  homes,"  as  a 
 disapproving  writer  of  the  sixteenth  century  describes  it.  Of  course  the 
 vigour  with  which  these  ancient  customs  were  preserved  died  down  very 
 much  with  us  after  the  reign  of  the  Puritans, 
 
 But  this  direct  borrowing  by  Christian  from  heathen  days,  in  order  to 
 fill  up  what  I  may  call  the  interstices  of  life;  this  continuation  of  harmless 
 or  comparatively  harmless  festivals,  customs,  and  superstitions,  from  the 
 old  days  to  the  new,  forms  only  a  very  small  part  of  the  survival  of  heathen- 
 dom in  mediaeval  Christianity.  It  would  be  the  more  peaceful  side  of  the 
 heathen  creed  which  was  adopted  in  this  quiet  way  by  Christendom.  We 
 have  seen  that  it  is  the  peaceful  divinities  Frau  Holda  or  Frau  Bertha,  or 
 our  ICdstre,  whose  names  were  kept  most  alive  in  the  mouths  of  the  people. 
 Up  to  the  time  of  the  conversion  of  our  forefathers,  the  warrior  class  had 
 come  more  and  more  to  the  front ;  for  the  era  which  preceded  the  conver- 
 sion of  these  different  German  races,  the  English  in  England,  the  Franks 
 in  France,  the  Goths  in  Spain  and  Italy,  had  been  an  era  of  conquest. 
 Now  would  come  the  turn  for  the  quieter  members  of  the  community  to 
 
THE  INFLUENCE   OF  PAGANISM  ON  CHRISTIANITY.     255 
 
 come  to  the  front.  They  would  be  the  ones  to  go  over  most  easily  to 
 Christianity,  and  it  would  be  out  of  their  ranks  that  the  Christian  priest- 
 hood would  be  most  often  drawn.  In  theory,  at  any  rate,  the  Christian 
 priest  forswore  the  use  of  arms,  wherefore,  upon  the  whole,  the  influence  of 
 the  priestly  order  would  be  cast  upon  the  peaceful  side  of  life.  The 
 young  priest  would  carry  with  him  into  the  new  faith  rather  the  ideas  of 
 the  simple  householder  of  the  village  than  of  the  warrior  class.  By  him, 
 therefore,  the  wind-god  of  the  forest  would  be  looked  upon  with  more  and 
 more  of  terror  ;  and  he  would  throw  off  the  old  creed  with  a  sense  of 
 relief  at,  so  to  say,  freeing  himself  from  the  jurisdiction  of  Wodin,  and 
 placing  himself  under  the  protection  of  the  God  of  the  Christians.  But  he 
 could  never  feel  that  he  had  entirely  withdrawn  himself  from  the  dominion 
 of  the  ancient  god  of  storm.  For  ancient  fears  are  not  easily  shaken  off. 
 In  the  dark  and  silent  forest  ways  there  still  reigned  for  the  Christian 
 priest  or  for  the  peasant  a  haunting  presence,  but  it  was  no  longer  the 
 presence  of  a  protecting  divinity,  it  was  that  of  a  god  whose  worship  had 
 been  abandoned,  who  was  at  war  with  his  god,  who  had  become  an  anti- 
 god  or  a  devil.  Tims  arose  that  idea  which  is  the  prevailing  idea  of  the 
 Middle  Ages,  the  omnipresence  and  immense  power  of  diabolical  agencies, 
 all  that  enormous  body  of  belief  with  regard  to  possession  by  the  evil  one 
 which  created  a  supposed  witch  in  every  village,  and  led,  as  I  daresay 
 you  know,  to  such  terrible  cruelties  being  practised  against  these  imagined 
 servants  of  Satan. 
 
 I  wish  it  were  possible  for  me  to  convey  to  you  in  words  the  constant 
 sense  of  diabolical  presence  which  afflicted  men's  minds  in  the  Middle 
 Ages.  The  very  air  seemed  haunted,  and,  as  it  were,  beaten  by  dark  and 
 infernal  wings.  But  perhaps  I  can — with  not  very  much  time  siill  left  us 
 — best  convey  to  your  minds  some  notion  of  the  creed  of  the  Middle 
 Ages  by  asking  you  to  look  in  imagination  at  the  one  great  relic  which 
 that  belief  has  left,  and  which  is  accessible  to  all — I  mean  the  mediaeval 
 cathedral.  We  have  in  London  our  specimen  of  such  a  cathedral  in  West- 
 minster Abbey,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  examples  possible,  built  just 
 about  six  hundred  years  ago,  when  men  were  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the 
 time  which  it  is  so  difticult  for  us  to  realize.  Remember,  as  I  have  said, 
 that  the  cathedral  architecture  of  those  days  is  the  greatest  relic  which  the 
 Middle  Ages  have  left  us,  that  in  which  the  whole  spirit  of  many  centuries 
 — ten  silent  centuries,  as  Carlyle  calls  them — seems  to  find  a  voice.  The 
 mediaeval  cathedral  represents,  if  you  have  the  key  to  read  its  meaning,  the 
 world  as  it  appeared  to  the  men  of  that  time,  the  world  material  in  a 
 certain  sense,  and  the  world  spiritual. 
 
 Therefore  look  now  at  this  cathedral.  The  origin  of  the  mediaeval 
 cathedral,  as  a  mere  house  of  worship  is,  I  know.  Christian.  So  far  as 
 regards  the  idea  simply  of  a  house  in  which  to  worship  God,  that  idea 
 traces  its  descent  from  the  Jewish  synagogue  to  the  Christian  church.  But 
 we  have  next  to  see  in  what  form  that  idea  of  the  house  of  worship  clothed 
 
256  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 itself  after  some  centuries  of  contact  with  the  heathenism  of  Northern 
 Europe.  Observe  the  forest-Uke  darkness  and  height  of  the  building,  the 
 roof  scarcely  visible,  the  building  so  shaped  and  so  arranged  with  its  count- 
 less pillars  that  you  never  seem  to  see  the  whole  of  it  ;  and  I  protest  if  you 
 were  put  down  in  one  of  these  cathedrals  for  the  first  time  you  would  have 
 no  idea  of  its  extent.  Worship  in  such  a  place  must  be  as  near  a  counter- 
 part as  worship  in  any  building  could  be,  so  far  as  the  impression  on  the 
 senses  goes,  to  the  worship  in  the  sacred  groves  of  our  heathen  forefathers. 
 
 So  far,  then,  the  mediceval  cathedral  seems  to  symbolize  that  very 
 thing  of  which  we  are  speaking  to-day,  the  survival  of  heathen  belief 
 in  mediaeval  Christianity.  But  it  does  not  do  this  only.  Look  a  little 
 nearer.  In  the  centre  of  this  gloomy  forest  of  pillars  stands  a  lighted 
 altar.  I  might  devote  the  whole  of  a  lecture  merely  to  showing  how  much 
 the  imagination  of  men  in  the  middle  ages  dwelt  upon  the  ideas  of  light 
 and  of  candles  as  symbols  of  the  light  of  religion  ;  so  that  when  anybody 
 who  had  recovered  from  sickness,  or  been  saved  from  danger,  made  a  dedi- 
 cation to  a  saint,  it  was  ten  to  one  that  the  dedication  took  the  form  of 
 candles  to  be  lighted  on  the  altar  of  that  saint.  These  candles,  then,  are 
 as  necessary  a  part  of  the  symbolism  of  the  cathedral  as  its  vastness,  its 
 stupendous  height,  its  gloom  and  mystery.  Above  the  altar  where  these 
 lights  are  always  burning,  the  peaceful  faces  of  saints  and  angels  look  down 
 upon  the  worshipper. 
 
 But  pass  away  from  this  lighted  altar  and  the  sacred  presence  which  is 
 believed  always  to  abide  there,  or  go  outside  of  the  cathedral  altogether, 
 and  look  at  its  architecture  from  without.  Here  we  have  no  more  angels' 
 faces,  but  in  every  corner  and  under  every  arch  you  will  detect  some 
 symbol  of  the  powers  of  darkness — dragons  or  devil's  heads — or  if  there 
 are  representations  of  human  faces,  they  are  contorted,  as  if  in  torment. 
 Do  not  imagine  that  these  architectural  figures  (in  architecture  they  are 
 commonly  called  gargoils)  are  placed  where  they  are  merely  by  chance. 
 No,  they  symbolize  the  lost  condition  of  all  men  outside  the  church,  cut 
 off  from  the  light  of  faiih  which  burns  on  the  altar  inside. 
 
 I  need  not  say  how  central  this  belief  is  in  the  whole  religion  of  the 
 Middle  Ages.  "  No  salvation  outside  the  Church  "  was,  and  still  is,  the 
 watchword  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
 
 If  1  have  carried  you  with  me  at  all  in  what  I  have  been  trying  to  put 
 into  words — and  we  are  dealing  with  thoughts  and  feelings  very  difficult 
 to  express  in  words — you  will  perhaps  understand  what  I  meant  when  I 
 said  just  now  that  the  mediaeval  cathedral  symbolized  both  the  material 
 and  spiritual  world  of  men  in  those  days.  For  side  by  side  with  the 
 spiritual  notion,  "no  salvation  outside  the  Church,"  went  that  material 
 notion  which  gave  over  all  the  wild  uncultured  parts  of  the  material  world 
 to  the  diabolical  presences  which  had  once  been  the  ruling  spirits  in  the 
 world  of  our  heathen  forefathers. 
 
 In  these  various  ways,  very  difficult  to  define  in  exact  words,  directly 
 
THE   INFLUENCE   OF  PAGANISM  ON  C/I RISTIANITV.     257 
 
 an(i   indirectly,  both   by  attraction  and   by  repulsion,   the    belief  of  our 
 heathen  forefathers  lived  on  in  the  belief  of  the  mediaeval  Christianity. 
 
 Remember  that  this  is  the  most  vital  way  in  which  one  creed  can  survive 
 in  another.  Dogmas  and  formulas  matter  little  if  the  same  sort  of  images, 
 the  same  sort  of  ideas  of  the  supernatural  powers,  continue  to  hold  captive 
 the  popular  imagination.  You  know  how  the  Scotch  ballad-monger  said, 
 *'  I  care  not  who  makes  a  nation's  laws  if  I  may  make  their  ballads."  And 
 just  in  the  relation  in  which  ballads  stand  to  formulated  laws  the  appeals 
 to  popular  imagination  made  by  such  things  as  the  vast  and  gloomy 
 mediaeval  cathedral,  its  echoing  chants,  the  wind-like  voice  of  the  organ,  or 
 again,  all  the  fragments  of  popular  superstition  concerning  the  power  of 
 Satan,  the  assertions  of  those  who  swore  that  they  had  heard  him  hunting 
 out  there  on  the  moor,  in  the  forest,  with  the  troops  of  the  damned — just 
 in  this  relation  stand  such  beliefs  as  these  to  the  former  decrees  of  councils, 
 or  to  the  established  articles  of  the  Christian  creed. 
 
 Beside  the  general  sense  of  diabolical  presence  which  pervades  all  the 
 literature  of  tiie  Middle  Ages  there  are  certain  definite  myths,  certain 
 stories  toucliing  the  doings  of  Satan  which  stand  out  pre-eminent  over  the 
 rest.  Almost  all  these  stories  have  survived  to  our  day,  and  if  they  are 
 not  precisely  believed  in  they  excite  a  certain  feeling  of  superstitious  awe. 
 
 One  of  these  is  the  story  of  the  \Vild  Huntsman.  We  know  him  best  as 
 Heme  the  Hunter.  Among  other  places  he  is  supposed  to  haunt  Windsor 
 Forest,  as  any  reader  of  Harrison  Ainsworth's  novel  with  that  name  will 
 remember.  I  believe,  however,  tliat  the  old  oak  called  Heme's  oak  no 
 longer  stands.  He  is  a  fiend  huntsman,  with  two  horns  sticking  out  from 
 his  head  like  Satan,  only  in  the  case  of  Heme  they  are  stag's  horns.  The 
 story  told  of  him  in  the  Middle  Ages  was  that  he  had  been  a  wicked  noble 
 who  cared  for  nothing  but  hunting,  and  hunted  even  on  the  Sunday,  not 
 only  profaning  the  day  himself,  but  compelling  the  peasantry  on  his  estate 
 to  aid  him  by  beating  up  the  game.  So  one  day  there  joined  him  two 
 horsemen,  one  on  a  white  steed  and  one  on  a  black,  and  the  latter  breathed 
 fire  from  its  nostrils.  The  horseman  on  the  white  steed,  who  was  Heme's 
 good  angel,  tried  to  dissuade  him  from  going  to  the  hunt,  but  he  would 
 not  listen,  and  went  oft"  with  the  bad  angel  on  the  black  horse,  saying  that 
 he  wished  he  could  go  on  hunting  till  Doomsday.  And  that  he  is  now 
 condemned  to  do.  As  the  storm  goes  by  the  peasant  of  Germany  deems 
 that  he  hears  this  wild  hunt  careering  through  the  air,  that  he  distinguishes 
 the  shouting  of  men  and  barking  of  dogs,  sometimes  even  it  happens  (so 
 superstitious  belief  asserts)  that  a  rain  of  blood  falls  from  the  clouds  to  the 
 earth.  In  many  parts  of  England  and  of  France  this  wild  hunt  is  known 
 as  Arthur's  Chase.  In  Germany  the  huntsman  goes  by  the  name  of 
 Hackelberg. 
 
 By  whatever  name  it  may  be  called  it  is  not  difficult  to  recognise  in  the 
 wild  hunt  a  slightly  transformed  picture  of  the  old  supreme  god  of  the 
 heathens  riding  through  the  air  as  Wodin  rides.     In  place  of  the  battle  in 
 
 VOL.    I.  s 
 
258  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 which  Wodin  indulges  we  liave  a  hunt,  an  idea  more  famiHar  to  the  aver- 
 age peasant.  This  is  ahiiost  the  sole  difference  between  the  myth  of 
 Hackelberg,  or  Heme  the  Hunter,  and  the  myth  of  Wodin. 
 
 Another  still  more  striking  example  of  a  mediaeval  belief  stolen  from 
 the  bygone  religion  of  our  ancestors,  and  transformed  in  the  stealing,  is 
 the  great  myth,  as  we  may  call  it,  of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  Witches'  Sabbath. 
 This  myth  undoubtedly  grew  in  precision  and  in  detail  as  the  Middle  Ages 
 advanced,  but  we  can  trace  the  germ  of  it  very  early.  It  is  this  germ  which 
 is  taken  from  the  myth  of  Wodin.  The  Witches'  Sabbath  told  how  on  a 
 certain  day  of  the  year  Satan  was  wont  to  meet  the  witches  of  all  the  world 
 at  a  certain  place.  Usually  some  well-known  mountain  was  chosen  for  the 
 scene  of  this  Witches'  Sabbath,  and  in  Germany  the  place  most  recognised 
 in  tradition  was  the  highest  mountain  of  the  Harz  range  in  Saxony,  the 
 Brocken  or  Blocksberg.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact  there  are  many  mountains 
 in  Germany  with  this  same  name  Blocksberg,  and  almost  all  seem  to  have 
 been  connected  with  the  rites  of  the  Witches'  Sabbath.  It  would  be 
 impossible  to  enumerate  all  the  mountains  in  Europe  upon  which  the  same 
 rites  were  said  to  have  been  enacted.  Heckla,  in  Iceland,  is  one ;  there 
 were  many  in  Norway  and  Sweden,  others  in  France,  Spain,  Italy,  the  Car- 
 pathians, etc.  The  central  figure  of  the  myth  is  only  Wodin,  transformed 
 into  the  Prince  of  Darkness,  and  the  witches  are  only  the  helm-maidens  or 
 shield-maidens  of  Wodin,  who  have  undergone  a  like  transformation. 
 
 Observe  that  these  two  which  I  have  related  are  connected  with  the  two 
 great  festive  seasons  of  heathen  days,  namely  with  Yule  and  with  the  May 
 celebrations.  Of  the  subject  of  the  first  myth,  the  Wild  Huntsman,  it  was 
 told  that  he  and  his  following  hunted  throughout  the  year  through  the  sky, 
 except  only  during  the  twelve  days,  and  then  he  hunted  on  earth.  And 
 the  Witches'  Sabbath,  it  was  said  to  be  held  during  the  eight  days  following 
 the  first  of  May.  Satan,  we  may  suppose,  was,  during  the  rest  of  the  year, 
 banished  to  the  molten  i)it,  and  allowed  to  return  to  earth  again  during  the 
 early  days  of  May. 
 
 ]iut  what  is  this  belief,  put  into  different  words,  other  than  the  belief  that 
 the  ancient  gods  had  been  banished  from  earth  by  the  new  creed  ;  but 
 during  two  short  seasons— seasons  of  the  old  heathen  festivals,  they  were 
 allowed  to  return  to  the  earth  once  more. 
 
 One  word  more,  in  order  if  possible  to  clench  in  your  memory  the  gist 
 of  what  I  have  been  trying  to  put  before  you.  All  this,  all  the  foregoing 
 lecture,  I  may  say,  is  in  a  manner  epitomized  in  one  woxd.— Heathen.  I 
 did  not  like,  at  the  beginning,  to  trouble  you  with  verbal  distinctions,  or  I 
 should  have  explained  that  the  title  of  this  lecture  (though  the  most  con- 
 venient to  ex])rcss  in  a  i)0]nilar  form  its  subject)  does  not  express  it  quite 
 correctly  according  to  the  niceties  of  language.  I  would  rather  have  used 
 mcdircval  Catholicism  in  place  of  Christianity,  and  heathenism  in  place  of 
 Paganism.     I-'or  Paganism,  which  is  a  word  of  Latin  origin,  is  naturally 
 
THE  INFLUENCE   OF  PAGANISM   ON  CHRISTIANITY.     259 
 
 associated  in  our  miads  with  the  religion  of  what  are  called  the  classi- 
 cal peoples — the  Greeks  and  Romans — and  heathenism,  which  is  a  word 
 of  English  origin,  is  appropriate  to  designate  the  creed  of  our  own  fore- 
 fathers. And  tliat  very  word  symbolizes  the  past  life  of  our  ancestors, 
 and  the  wild  nature,  in  the  midst  of  which  they  imagined  their  gods  to 
 dwell.  The  heathen  is  the  dweller  in  the  "heath,"  the  wild  uncultivated 
 country  far  from  human  habitations.  Therefore,  in  later  days,  when  men 
 had  got  to  dwell  more  together,  and  the  land  was  more  cultivated,  the 
 heathen  man  was  a  sort  of  outlaw,  a  wild  man  of  the  woods,  and  the  gods 
 he  persisted  in  worshij:)ping  were  thought  of  by  Christian  folk  no  longer  as 
 gods,  but  as  terrible  fiends,  as  the  Wild  Huntsman  careering  through  the 
 forest,  or  as  Satan  liolding  his  court  on  a  lonely  mountain  lop. 
 
 Wherefore  I  think  you  will  see  what  I  mean  by  saying  that  that  one 
 word  "  heathen,"  if  we  realize  its  full  meaning,  contains  in  itself  almost  all 
 that  I  have  been  trying  to  say  in  this  lecture,  and  quite  alone  affords  the 
 sort  of  glance  which  we  have  been  trying  to  take  into  the  remote  past,  into 
 the  dark  and  backward  abysses  of  Time. 
 
SLAVONIC    RELIGION. 
 
 By  W.  R.  Morfill. 
 
 The  subject  which  I  propose  to  consider  in  the  present  lecture  is  the 
 remains  of  the  ancient  behefs,  or  superstitions  if  you  will,  on  which 
 were  built  up  the  doctrines  of  Christianity,  when  disseminated  throughout 
 Slavonic  countries  in  the  ninth  century.  I  hope  we  shall  find  something 
 to  interest  us,  both  in  what  the  old  chroniclers  tell  us  of  the  paganism  of 
 their  own  and  preceding  times,  and  also  in  the  many  strange  customs 
 which  have  survived  among  the  Slavonic  peoples  ;  for  it  may  be  boldly 
 said  that  among  no  other  races  of  the  world  have  we  such  a  rich  fund  of 
 folk-song  and  folk-tale. 
 
 Slavonic  mythology  has  been  treated  of  by  many  Slavonic  writers. 
 Schwenk  and  other  Oermans  have  also  written  upon  it,  and  it  has  even 
 been  discussed  by  some  English  authors.  The  works  of  the  late  Mr. 
 Ralston  on  Russian  Folk-tales  and  Russian  Folksongs  may  be  read  with 
 advantage.  They  abound  with  allusions  to  the  obscure  mythology  of  the 
 Slavonic  peoples.  A  very  interesting  little  book,  also,  is  that  published 
 last  year  by  Mr.  Wratislaw,  entitled  "  Sixty  Slavonic  Folk-tales,"  in  which 
 those  curious  about  the  matter  may  find  the  origin  of  many  of  the  tales 
 familiar  to  them  from  their  infancy.  Perhaps,  however,  before  entering 
 upon  the  (piestion  of  the  religious  beliefs  of  the  early  Slavs,  it  might  be 
 as  well  to  put  before  you  a  few  facts  about  the  Slavonic  people,  and,  it 
 must  be  confessed,  that  upon  these  points  there  exists  a  great  deal  of 
 ignorance. 
 
 The  Slavs  inhabit  the  eastern  part  of  Europe,  and  have  been  divided 
 into  two  great  families — a  division  based  upon  certain  peculiarities  in  their 
 languages.  The  south-eastern  branch  contains  the  Russians,  Bulgarians, 
 and  Serbs,  to  whom  may  be  added  the  Slovenes  in  Steiermark,  and  other 
 southern  i)rovinces  of  Austria.  The  western  Slavs  include  the  Bohemians, 
 or  Chekhs,  who,  since  the  earlier  part  of  the  sixteenth  century,  have  be- 
 longed to  Austria — not  by  conquest,  let  us  remember,  but  by  a  voluntary 
 union — the  Poles,  whose  country,  at  one  time  the  greatest  power  of 
 eastern  Europe,  is  divided  between  Austria,  Russia,  and  Prussia,  and  the 
 numerically  small  people  of  the  Lusatians  or  Sorbs,  who  are  to  be  found 
 partly  in  Saxony,  living  in  the  country  districts  round  Bautzen,  and  partly 
 in  Prussia,  near  Cottbus.  We  may  thus  gain  some  idea  of  the  geogra- 
 phical extent  of  the  Slavonic  peoples,  who  probably  number  something 
 like  a  hun«lrcd  millions.  In  a  previous  lecture  here,  I  gave  it  as  my 
 opinion  that  panslavism,  as  it  is  called,  that  bugbear  of  our  western  states- 
 
 a6o 
 
SLAVONIC  RELIGION.  261 
 
 men,  was  an  impossibility  on  account  of  tlie  diversity  of  the  creeds  of  the 
 members  of  the  great  Slavonic  family.  It  seems  to  me  that  this  has  always 
 been  an  impediment  to  their  union.  To  say  nothing  of  the  religious 
 hostility  between  the  Pole  and  Russian,  a  phase  of  the  animosity  existing 
 between  them  for  centuries,  we  have  people  like  the  Croats  and  Serbs,  who 
 speak  tlie  same  language,  and  are  in  reality  identical,  yet  separated  by 
 religious  differences.  The  Croat  is  a  strict  Catholic;  the  Serb  belongs  to 
 the  Greek  church. 
 
 The  Slavonic  tribes,  being  of  Indo-European  origin,  have  of  course 
 much  in  common  with  their  European  congeners  in  their  ancient  religious 
 beliefs.  It  is  only  by  a  careful  induction  from  the  various  ideas  that  have 
 been  shared  in  by  all  members  of  the  human  race — including  even  savages 
 — that  we  can  get  anything  like  a  genuine  study  of  primitive  beliefs.  We 
 shall  then  find  all  over  the  world  more  or  less  the  same  folk-lore,  as  has 
 been  admirably  shown  in  Dr.  Tylor's  work,  "  Primitive  Culture,"  which 
 may  be  said  to  have  laid  the  real  foundations  of  this  interesting  study. 
 
 Who,  then,  were  the  gods  of  the  old  heathen  Slavs? 
 
 The  chief  was  Perun,  the  god  of  thunder  and  fire.  Fire,  we  are  told, 
 was  constantly  kept  burning  among  the  ancient  Russians  as  a  symbol  of 
 the  sun,  which  was  never  quenched.  In  the  same  way  we  find  the  Parsees 
 worshipping  fire  at  the  present  day.  Hartknoch,  who  lived  at  the  end  of 
 the  seventeenth  century,  says  that  Perkunas,  who  is  identical  with  Perun, 
 was  the  most  celebrated  deity  among  the  old  Prussians.  Now  the  ques- 
 tion will  naturally  arise  among  you,  Who  were  these  old  Prussians  ?  They 
 were  a  people  closely  connected  in  race  and  language  with  the  Slavs,  but 
 who  have  completely  disappeared,  only  leaving  their  name  to  the  country 
 called  Prussia,  which  is  now  settled  mainly  by  Germans,  whose  blood  has 
 been  mixed  a  great  deal  with  that  of  these  early  inhabitants.  Just  in  the 
 same  way  a  pure  Anglo-Saxon  will  style  himself  a  Briton,  and  so  he  is  in 
 a  way,  i.e.  he  lives  in  the  country  called  Britain  ;  but  if  we  wish  to  find  a 
 pure-blooded  Briton,  we  must  of  course  go  to  Wales  and  the  Welsh. 
 
 According  to  Hartknoch,  Perkunas,  or  Perun,  had  a  fiery  red  face,  and 
 was  represented  as  surrounded  by  flames  at  Kiev,  the  great  seat  of  hrs- 
 worship.  He  was  exhibited  with  a  stone  in  his  hand,  made  to  represent  a 
 thunderbolt.  Besides  the  Russians,  he  was  worshipped  by  the  Bohe- 
 mians, Poles,  and  Bulgarians.  So  great  was  his  cultiis  among  the  Slavs,, 
 that  foreigners,  owing  to  their  little  acquaintance  with  them  or  ignorance 
 of  their  language,  rushed  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  their  only  god. 
 Thus  Procopius,  the  Greek  historian,  writing  in  the  sixth  century,  a.d., 
 says,  "  The  Slavs  know  only  one  god,  the  fabricator  of  lightning,  whom 
 they  look  upon  as  the  ruler  of  all."  He  was  represented  with  three  heads, 
 hence  called  Triglav  {tri,  three,  and  glava,  head),  and  several  places  in 
 the  Slavonic  parts  of  Europe  having  a  name  resembling  this  were  probably 
 called  after  him.  Thus  in  southern  Austria  there  is  the  mountain  corruptly 
 named  Terglau.     He  is  supposed  to  be  the  same  as  the  Vedic  Parjanya 
 
262  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 The  Aryans  of  India  and  the  Teutonic  tribes  continued  to  worship  him  as 
 a  subordinate  member  of  the  family  of  the  gods,  but  the  Letto-Slavs  raised 
 him  to  the  dignity  of  a  supreme  ruler  of  all  other  deities.  Woods  and 
 trees  were  dedicated  to  him.  Lithuania  abounded  in  sacred  groves  and 
 trees,  and  the  grand  masters  of  the  Teutonic  knights,  always  at  war  with 
 them,  had  many  of  them  as  ruthlessly  cut  down  as  Agricola  did  those  of 
 the  Britons  in  the  Isle  of  Anglesey.  From  these  sacred  groves,  as  we  all 
 know,  arose  the  conception  of  the  Gothic  cathedral  with  its  "dim  religious 
 light,"  and,  as  Emerson  beautifully  says, — 
 
 "P'rom  out  of  Thought's  interior  sphere, 
 These  wonders  rose  to  upper  air, 
 And  nature  gladly  gave  them  place, 
 Adopted  them  into  her  race, 
 Anil  granted  them  an  equal  date 
 With  Andes  and  with  Ararat.' 
 
 Perkunas,  or  Perkuns,  frequently  appears  in  the  Lithuanian  songs  pub- 
 lished by  Schleicher.  According  to  one  of  these  songs  Perkunas  cleft  the 
 moon — which,  we  must  remember,  is  masculine  among  the  Slavs — for  his 
 infidelity  to  the  sun,  which  is  feminine.  He  had  deserted  her  and  fallen 
 into  love  with  Jutrzenka,  or  the  morning-star.  Hence  the  diminished 
 appearances  of  the  moon.  Sarnicki,  the  old  Polish  chronicler,  tells  us  that 
 whoever  neglected  to  keep  the  fire  in  honour  of  the  god  perpetually  burn- 
 ing, paid  the  penalty  with  his  life. 
 
 In  the  treaties  concluded  in  the  tenth  century  between  the  Russians 
 and  the  Byzantine  Greeks,  the  Russians,  according  to  Nestor,  swear  by 
 Perun  and  Veles,  the  god  of  flocks.  Although  the  idol  of  Perun  was 
 destroyed  by  Vladimir,  the  prince  of  Kiev,  when  Russia  received  Christi- 
 anity, now  more  than  nine  hundred  years  ago,  yet  the  god  was  transmuted 
 into  the  saint  Ilya  (Elijah).  He  has  become  the  saint  of  thunder,  and 
 his  chariot  is  said  to  roll  through  the  sky  by  a  confusion  with  I'^lijah's 
 chariot  of  fire,  and  the  attributes  of  the  two  have  somehow  or  other  got 
 mixed  up  with  the  story  of  Ilya  Muromets,  or  Ilya  of  Murom,  the  giant, 
 who  is  the  hero  of  many  a  Russian  lay,  and  is  still  talked  of  by  the 
 peasantry. 
 
 Another  Slavonic  deity  was  Radgost  or  Radegost,  who  was  especially 
 worshipped  among  the  Obotrites,  an  ancient  Slavonic  people,  who 
 occupied  the  territory  corresponding  to  the  modern  Mecklenburg.  For 
 perhaps  it  is  not  generally  known  that  a  large  part  of  northern  Germany 
 was  originally  occupied  by  Slavonic  peoples,  who  have  left  their  names 
 still  marked  upon  the  country  ;  such,  for  example,  as  Leipsic,  Rostock, 
 Potsdam,  Berlin,  Anhalt-Zerbst  and  hundreds  of  others.  The  old  German 
 chroniclers  such  as  Helmold,  Thietmar,  and  Adam  of  Bremen  tell  us 
 about  Radegost,  who  was  represented  as  a  warrior.  Horses  were  con- 
 secrated to  him.  Several  places  in  l>ohemia  bear  a  name  resembling  his, 
 and  were  perhaps  called  after  him. 
 
 There  was  a  god  of  cattle,  Volos  or  Voles,  previously  alluded  to  in  con- 
 
SLAVONIC  RELIGION.  263 
 
 nection  with  the  treaties ;  the  Russians  have  turned  the  worship  of  this 
 deity  into  that  of  St.  Blasius.  Traces  are  to  be  found  of  the  cultus  of  the 
 Sun  under  the  name  of  Dazhbog  ;  ht.,  the  god  who  gives.  There  was  a  god 
 of  the  winds  named  Stribog,  vvho  is  mentioned  in  the  old  prose-poem, 
 "  Slovo  o  polku  Igoreve  "  (the  story  of  the  expedition  of  Igor).  There 
 was  also  Lada  said  to  have  been  a  kind  of  Slavonic  Venus,  whose  name 
 is  occasionally  met  with  in  the  refrains  of  songs. 
 
 Among  Slavonic  religious  ceremonies  was  the  trizfia,  or  feast  in  honour 
 of  the  dead.  This  we  find  mentioned  in  the  earliest  times.  Thus,  if  we 
 take  the  chronicle  of  Nestor,  we  see  Olga  holding  a  great  trizna,  or 
 funeral  festival,  in  honour  of  her  husband,  Igor,  who  has  been  slain  by  the 
 Dreolians,  at  the  town  of  Iskorosten.  These  ceremonies  are  identical 
 with  those  practised  even  at  the  present  time  by  the  Irish,  and  called 
 wakes.  Collins,  an  Englishman,  who  was  physician  to  the  Tsar  Alexis, 
 father  of  Peter  the  Great,  towards  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
 tells  us  of  the  ceremonies  common  in  his  time,  when  the  women  weeping 
 would  call  upon  the  dead  saying  such  things  as.  Why  didst  thou  die? 
 Was  I  not  a  good  wife  to  thee?  Didst  thou  not  have  good  children? 
 etc.,  etc. 
 
 It  used  to  be  the  custom  in  Russia — and  probably  it  has  not  died  out 
 in  remote  places — to  put  food  upon  the  graves.  At  certain  seasons  of  the 
 year  the  tombs  are  regularly  visited  by  the  relatives  of  the  deceased,  and 
 I  myself  have  witnessed  some  most  pathetic  scenes  of  this  nature  in  Russia 
 and  heard  the  unrestrained  lamentations  of  the  survivors.  Beside  the 
 trizna,  or  funeral  feast,  there  was  also  the  festival  Sobolka,  held  in  honour 
 of  the  sun.  This  festival  is  called  in  Russian  Kupalo:  it  is  celebrated  on 
 the  24th  of  June,  the  day  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  who  is  called  Ivan 
 Kupalo  from  Kiipat,  to  bathe,  and  is  said  to  have  been  so  named  because 
 pourings  of  water  were  necessary  to  the  ceremony.  For  it  was  the  quaint 
 belief  of  the  early  Slavs — and  this  curious  piece  of  folk-lore  is  even  yet 
 current  in  Russia — that  the  sun  and  moon  wash  themselves  under  the  earth 
 in  the  coldest  possible  water,  so  that  when  they  appear  their  light  may  be 
 pure  and  brilliant.  At  this  period  the  sun  was  worshipped  under  the  name 
 of  Svantovit,  the  holy  leader  or  conqueror.  This  has  been  metamorphosed 
 into  Saint  Vit,  in  German  Weit,  and  is  the  same  name  as  St.  Vitus. 
 
 If  any  of  you  have  been  to  Prague  you  may,  perhaps,  have  observed 
 that  the  Cathedral  is  dedicated  to  St.  Vitus,  (Saint  Vit).  Now  St.  Vitus 
 was  a  Sicilian  saint,  and  we  are  told  by  some  scholars  that  when 
 Christianity  was  introduced,  the  name  of  St.  Vitus  was  used  for  this 
 building,  because  it  most  resembled  that  of  Svantovit,  the  god  to  whom 
 the  temple  which  originally  stood  there  was  dedicated.  Some,  however, 
 have  looked  upon  this  explanation  as  far  fetched.  Be  it  as  it  may,  we 
 have  certainly  found  the  Slavonic  god  Veles  turned  into  Viasii  or  St. 
 Blaise  and  the  cases  are  quite  analagous.  Hanusch,  w-ho  has  written  an 
 elaborate  work  on  Slavonic  mythology,  considers  that  the  nervous  affection 
 
264  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 called  St.  Vitus'  dance  took  its  name  from   the  wild   dances  which  were 
 
 indulged  in  during  the  celebration  of  the  Sobolka.     He  also  sees  a  trace 
 
 of  the  old  pagan  worship  of  the  sun  in  the  epithet,  constantly  applied  in 
 
 the  old  Russian   ballads  {biliiii)    to   Prince  Vladimir,  Kras7ioe  solnisliko, 
 
 bright  sun. 
 
 According  to  the  account  of  Svantovit,  given  by  Saxo   Grammaticus, 
 
 the   old   Danish   historian,    his    temple    was    more   handsome   than    was 
 
 generally  the  case  with  the  Slavonic  deities.     It  was   built   of  wood  and 
 
 had  two  courts,  an   outer   and  an   inner.      The  roof  of  the  outer  was 
 
 l)ainted  red.     The  god  Svantovit,  according  to  the  accounts  which  have 
 
 come  down  to  us,  was  a  mere  monstrosity,  with  four  lieads  and  four  necks; 
 
 in  his  right  hand  he  held  a  horn,  which  was  once  a  year  filled  with  mead 
 
 by  the  attendant  i)riest.     Sword  and  bridle  were  at  his  side.     This  great 
 
 idol  was  set  up  at  Arema  in  the  island  of  Riigen.     The  island  itself  has 
 
 now   become   completely   Germanized   and   no    vestiges    of    its    original 
 
 Slavonic  inhabitants  are  left,  but  Slavonic  was  spoken  there  as  late  as  the 
 
 fifteenth   century.      The  maintenance  of  the  cult  of  such   a  deity  was 
 
 necessarily  expensive.     The  inhabitants  paid  a  tax  in  support  of  it,  and 
 
 a  third  of  all  booty  gained  in  war  was  offered.      Rich  people  also  brought 
 
 gifts.     Svantovit  claimed  the  service  of  three  hundred  horsemen.     They 
 
 fought  in  his  honour,  and  the  spoils  they  gained  were  used  to  decorate  the 
 
 temple.     There  was  also  a  sacred  horse  on  which  Svantovit  was  believed 
 
 to  ride,  although  he  was  invisible.     It  was  pure  white,  and  might  only  be 
 
 fed  or  ridden  by  the  priest,  nor  dare  any  one  pull  a  hair  from  his  mane  or 
 
 tail.     The  records  of  many  countries  point  to  the  mysterious  appearance 
 
 of  heroes  on  white  horses,  who  aid  the  cause  of  their  votaries.     A\'e  all 
 
 remember  the    story  told    by  Livy   of  the    battle    of   Lake  Regillus,   at 
 
 which   the  twin  deities  Castor  and   Pollux  appeared,  a  story  which  has 
 
 been  made  doubly  familiar  by  the  spirited  lines  in  Macaulay's  "  Lays  of 
 
 Ancient  Rome." 
 
 "The  mist  of  eve  was  rising, 
 
 'I'lie  sun  was  liastening  down, 
 ^Vhen  lie  was  aware  of  a  princely  pair 
 
 l-'ast  pricking  towards  the  town. 
 So  iil<e  they  were,  men  never 
 
 Saw  twins  so  lii<e  before; 
 Red  with  gore  their  armour  was, 
 'J'iieir  steeds  were  red  with  gore. 
 *  *  •  « 
 
 And  all  the  people  trembled 
 
 And  pale  grew  every  check  : 
 An<!   Scrgius  the  high  pontiff 
 
 Alone  found  voice  to  speak  : 
 'riie  gods  who  live  for  ever 
 
 Have  fought  for  Konie  to-day  ! 
 'i'liese  lie  the  great  twin  brethren 
 
 'Jo  whom  the  Dorians  pray." 
 
 In  the  same  way  Bernal  Diaz,  the  old  Spanish  chronicler,  when  writing 
 of  the  deeds  of  Cortez,  declares  that  in  one  of  the  engagements  with  the 
 
SLAVONIC  RELIGION.  265 
 
 Indians,  St.  Jago  or  James,  the  patron  saint  of  Spain  appeared  on  a  grey 
 horse  to  animate  the  Spaniards. 
 
 'I'he  sacred  horse  of  Svantovit  was  also  consulted  as  an  oracle,  when 
 war  was  about  to  be  declared.  Three  rows  of  spears  were  laid  in  front 
 of  the  temple  ;  special  prayers  were  made  to  the  god,  and  then  the  priest 
 led  forth  the  horse.  His  feet  were  anxiously  watched  ;  if,  when  he  stepped 
 over  the  s])ears,  he  lifted  his  right  hoof  first,  the  omen  was  favourable  and 
 the  proposed  expedition  might  be  undertaken.  But  if  he  raised  the  left 
 foot  first  or  both  feet  moved  together,  it  was  a  sign  that  it  ought  to  be 
 abandoned.  The  classical  student  will  be  reminded  of  the  way  in  which 
 the  ancient  Romans  watched  the  feeding  of  sacred  chickens  as  an  omen 
 of  an  engagement  about  to  be  undertaken. 
 
 But  the  great  ceremony  in  connection  with  Svantovit  was  after  the 
 harvest  had  been  got  in.  The  inhabitants  assembled  from  all  parts 
 of  Riigen,  and  celebrated  a  feast.  O.xen  were  offered  to  the  god  :  the 
 priest,  who  had  unshorn  hair,  entered  the  inner  enclosure  of  the  temple 
 and  swept  it  ;  but  during  the  work  he  was  obliged  to  hold  his  breath  for 
 Icar  of  defiling  the  building.  If  he  wished  to  breathe,  he  occasionally 
 rushed  into  the  air.  He  next  took  the  cup  from  the  hand  of  Svantovit 
 and  brought  it  forth  to  the  crowd  outside.  From  the  quantity  of  the 
 mead  he  prophesied  the  fortunes  of  the  year.  If  it  had  decreased,  since 
 it  was  last  poured  in,  scarcity  was  to  be  apprehended.  If  it  had  increased, 
 there  would  be  abundance.  The  mead  in  the  cup  was  poured  at  the  feet 
 of  the  god  and  the  priest  filled  it  again,  praying  for  prosperity  in  peace  and 
 war.  He  then  drank  at  a  draught  the  mead  which  had  been  dedicated 
 and  refilled  the  horn  in  the  hand  of  the  idol,  which  remained  undisturbed 
 till  the  next  annual  least.  Honey  cakes  and  flour  were  afterwarvls 
 offered. 
 
 lieside  Svantovit  two  other  gods  of  the  Slavs  were  worshipped  in  Riigen, 
 Porenut,  and  Rugevit ;  but  we  do  not  know  very  much  about  them. 
 All  this  is  told  us  by  Saxo  Grammaticus,  who  flourished  in  the  twelfth 
 century. 
 
 The  Christian  missionaries,  however,  determined  to  throw  down  this 
 great  idol  on  the  island  of  Riigen.  Accordingly  when  the  Danes  had  got 
 possession  of  the  island,  and  the  inhabitants  had  promised  to  accept 
 Christianity,  Bishop  Absalom  betook  himself  to  the  temple  accompanied 
 by  some  men  armed  with  axes.  The  crowds  of  the  inhabitants  gathered 
 round  them,  expecting  that  they  would  perish  in  such  a  profane  attempt. 
 Absalom,  however,  and  his  party  soon  tore  down  the  veil  that  screened 
 tlie  image  ;  blows  were  dealt  at  the  feet  of  the  statue  which  swayed 
 backward  and  forward  and  then  fell. 
 
 The  spectators  believed  that  they  saw  the  demon  which  had  haunted 
 the  temple  rush  from  the  shrine  when  the  idol  fell,  in  the  shape  of  a  little 
 black  animal,  which  at  once  mysteriously  disappeared.  Svantovit  had 
 been  thrown  down,  but  was  still  a  terror  to   those  who  looked  on,  and  all 
 
266  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 refused  to  assist  in  removing  it.  The  inhabitants  gazed  awe-stricken, 
 while  ropes  were  attached  to  the  idol — in  the  same  way  as  we  read  of  Perim 
 being  treated  at  Kiev,  and  it  was  dragged  amid  shouts  of  laughter  into 
 the  Danish  camp,  where  it  was  chopped  up  for  firewood. 
 
 The  Slavs  also  believed  in  many  mischievous  little  spirits,  like  our  own 
 Puck,  Robin  Goodfellow,  the  German  Kohokl,  the  Scotch  Kelpie.  These 
 led  peo|)le  out  of  their  way,  just  as  Shakspere  makes  Puck  do  in  the  "Mid- 
 summer Night's  Dream  "  ;  they  robbed  tlie  granaries  of  those  to  whom  they 
 were  unfriendly,  and  carried  off  the  spoils  to  those  who  had  treated  them 
 kindly.  Elves  of  this  sort  are  to  be  found  everywhere  in  the  legends  current 
 among  European  peo[>les.  We  all  remember  Chaucer's  humorous  lament 
 on  the  decay  of  the  fairies,  or  Bishop  Corbet's  merry  verses,  when  he  tells 
 us  now  that  these  little  spirits  have  departed  there  will  be  no  reward  for 
 good  housemaids  : — 
 
 "  Farewell  rewards  and  fairies, 
 
 Good  housewives  now  may  say  ; 
 But  now  fuul  sluts  in  dairies, 
 
 Do  fare  as  well  as  they. 
 And  though  they  sweep  their  hearths  no  less 
 
 Than  maids  were  wont  to  do, 
 Yet  who,  of  late,  for  cleanliness 
 
 Finds  sixpence  in  her  shoe." 
 
 We  meet  with  these  elves  again  in  the  mythology  of  the  Esthonians  (a 
 Finnish  and  not  a  Slavonic  people) ;  they  are  believed  to  come  out  of 
 mouse-holes  and  secretly  to  reward  the  good.  Let  me  call  attention  to  the 
 charming  story  of  the  shoemaker  and  his  wife  in  Grimm's  Ifausmcirchen. 
 
 The  house-spirit  in  Russia  is  called  the  Domovoi.  He  is  represented  as 
 a  hairy  dwarf,  living  in  the  stove.  He  goes  by  different  names  in  Poland 
 and  jMalo-Russia.  The  Domovoi  gives  notice  of  misfortunes  which  are 
 about  to  happen  to  a  family,  and  is  heard  wailing  at  night  when  any  mem- 
 ber dies,  like  the  Irish  bansighe  (banshee),  or  fairy  woman.  He  is  not  always 
 benignant,  but  sometimes  acts  the  part  of  an  incubus  or  nightmare,  as 
 Queen  Mab  does  in  tlie  well-known  lines  in  Shakspere's  "  Romeo  and 
 Juliet."     This  incubus  is  called  in  Russian  Kikimora  ;  in  Polish,  Mora. 
 
 Among  the  Lithuanians  the  stars  are  considered  to  be  the  children  of 
 the  sun  and  moon,  and  are  sometimes  represented  as  flocks  of  sheep, 
 sometimes  as  horses,  upon  which  divine  beings  ride. 
 
 The  milky-way  is  called  "  the  street  of  the  birds,"  because  there  was  a 
 superstition  that  the  souls  of  the  dead  fluttered  along  it  in  the  shape  of 
 birds.  Again  the  pleasing  fancy  is  found  among  the  Slavs,  that  each 
 shooting-star  marks  the  end  of  a  life — a  very  widely-spread  piece  of  folk- 
 lore, as  we  know;  among  other  instances,  by  the  charming  verses  of  the 
 French  poet,  Bcranger — Les  etoiles  (]ui  filetit — 
 
 "  Mon  enfant,  un  niortcl  expire  ; 
 
 Son  etoile  tomhe  a  I'instant. 
 
 •  •  •  » 
 
 F.ncore  unc  ctoilc  qui  file 
 (jui  flic,  fde  et  disparait. " 
 
SLAVONIC  RELIGION.  267 
 
 The  aurora-borealis  is  supposed  to  exhibit  spirits  fighting  in  the  air,  and  a 
 Lithuanian,  on  seeing  it  will  even  at  this  day  cry  out,  "  the  ghosts  are 
 fighting." 
 
 The  personification  of  the  freshness  and  vigour  of  spring  took  its  form 
 among  the  Slavs  in  the  god  Pogoda,  who  was  represented  as  of  youthful 
 appearance,  and  bedecked  with  blue  flowers.  Dlugosz,  the  old  Polish 
 chronicler  of  the  fifteenth  century,  says  :  "  Habitatur  et  apud  illos  pro  deo 
 temperies,  quem  sua  lingua  appellabunt  Pogoda  quasi  bon^e  aurai 
 largitcr  !  " 
 
 We  find  winter  symbolized  in  Russian  poetry  by  the  Ice-king,  who  is 
 represented  as  formidably  as  he  has  been  drawn  by  Shelley  : — 
 
 "  For  winter  came  :  the  wind  was  his  whip  ; 
 One  choppy  finger  was  on  liis  lip  ; 
 He  luid  torn  llie  cataracts  from  the  hills, 
 And  they  clanked  at  his  girdle  like  manacles. 
 
 His  breath  was  a  chain  wliich  without  a  sound, 
 The  earth  and  the  air  and  the  water  bound. 
 He  came  fiercely  driven  in  his  chariot-throne, 
 I'y  the  tenfold  blasts  of  the  Arctic  zone." 
 
 He  is  powerfully  represented   in  the  fine  poem  by  Nekrasor,  who  died  a 
 
 few  years  ago,  entitled  Moroz  kras/ii  nos — Red-nosed  frost.    The  story  tells 
 
 us  how  a  poor  woman  is  frozen   to   death  who  is  taking  her  husband  to 
 
 burial.       1    will    borrow    the    translation    of    Mr.    Sumner    Smith,    the 
 
 American  author  :  — 
 
 "  'J"he  frost-king  came  down  somewhat  lower  ; 
 Again  waved  his  mace  with  much  stir, 
 Anil  whispers  more  kind  than  before, 
 
 '  Art  warm  ?  '     1  am  warm,  my  good  sir." 
 
 Is  warm — but  all  stitf  she  is  growing  ; 
 
 Has  touch'd  her  the  frost-king,  the  weird  ; 
 A  breath  in  her  face  he  is  blowing, 
 And  on  her  sharp  needles  is  showing 
 
 From  out  his  huge  icy  grey  beard." 
 
 In  the  pretty  little  collection  of  Folk-tales  published  last  year  by  Miss 
 Hodgetts,  entitled,  "Tales  and  Legends  from  the  Land  of  the  Tsar,"  Mo- 
 rozko,  or  Jack  Frost,  as  the  name  may  be  translated,  is  thus  described  : — 
 
 "Jack  Frost  jumped  from  branch  to  branch,  coming  nearer  to  her. 
 Suddenly  he  sprang  from  the  tree  and  stood  by  her  side,  his  ice-cold 
 fingers  touching  her  shoulders.  Fie  was  a  handsome-looking  old  man 
 with  a  long  white  beard,  and  curly  white  locks  hanging"down  his  back  ;  he 
 had  a  kind-looking  old  face  with  a  good-natured  smile  on  it." 
 
 According  to  Hanusch,  there  w-as  also  a  goddess  of  the  winter-weather 
 among  the  Russians  called  Zimarzla,  i  e.  the  frozen.  She  had  breath  of  ice, 
 clothes  of  hoar-frost,  a  mantle  of  snow,  and  a  crown  of  hailstones.  The 
 wind  was  symbolized  by  the  god  Stribog,  and  in  the  Russian  poem,  "  Igor's 
 Expedition  against  the  Polovtses,"  the  winds  are  spoken  of  as  the  grand- 
 children of  Stribog.  "  See  the  winds,  Stribog's  grandchildren,  blow  hither 
 from  the  sea  like  arrows  upon  the  brave  hosts  of  Igor.     This  god  is  called 
 
268  KEUGIOi'S  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 by   Dlugosz,  Pogwid  :    "  Poloni   aiUem   quaslibet  vanas  creaturas,   solem 
 lunara,  aiirain  quam  Pogwid  appellabant  cultu  divino  prosequebantiir." 
 
 Among  the  Russians  the  soul  was  considered  to  fly  after  death  from  the 
 mouth  in  the  shape  of  a  dove.  A  superstition  alluded  to  in  many  Polish 
 and  Russian  songs,  and  also  to  be  found  among  the  modern  Greeks— per- 
 haps another  proof  of  their  Slavonic  affinities.  On  the  tomb  of  Boleslas 
 the  Brave  (Chrobry),  the  following  words  are  said  to  have  been  inscribed  : 
 
 "  Hie  jacel  in  tumba  princeps,  gloriosa  columba." 
 
 A  whirlwind  among  the  Cossacks  of  the  Ukraine  is  a  token  of  great  mis- 
 fortune about  to  come  ;  owls  are  embodiments  of  the  evil  spirit. 
 
 In  summer  early  before  sunrise,  especially  on  Midsummer  day,  old 
 women  betake  themselves  to  the  fields,  and  drag  behind  them  handker- 
 chiefs spread  out,  and  in  this  way  collect  dew.  When  they  come  home, 
 they  wring  the  wet  pocket-handkerchief;  the  moisture  is  put  into  a  bottle 
 and  used  for  washing  the  faces  of  children.  The  superstition  is  that  in  this 
 way  they  will  become  as  beautiful  as  angels.  This  custom  is  also  found  in 
 England.  When  the  bride  goes  to  be  married,  she  must  take  parsley  and 
 bread  with  her,  so  that  evil  spirits  may  not  bewitch  her.  At  home  the 
 newly-married  pair  have  a  spoon  given  to  them  full  of  honey,  which  they 
 must  eat  so  that  concord  may  prevail  between  them.  An  excellent  de- 
 scription of  Russian  marriage  ceremonies  is  given  by  Mr.  Ralston  in  his 
 Eolk-songs  of  Russia. 
 
 When  in  Russia  a  new  cottage  is  built,  even  at  the  present  day,  the 
 owner  shuts  a  cock  inside.  If  it  crows  during  the  night,  it  is  a  lucky  sign; 
 if,  however,  the  contrary  happens,  the  owner  will  not  dwell  in  it,  for  he  is 
 convinced  that  the  evil  spirit  has  taken  possession  of  it. 
 
 The  Slavs  still  believe  that  all  ghosts  must  disappear  when  the  crowing 
 of  the  cock  is  heard.  You  will  remember  the  lines  of  Hamlet  where 
 Pernardo  says, — 
 
 "It  was  about  to  speak,  when  the  cock  crew." 
 
 To  which  Horatio  answers, — 
 
 "  Ami  then  it  started  like  a  guilty  thing 
 Upon  a  fearful  summons.     I  have  heard 
 The  cock,  that  is  the  trumjict  to  the  morn, 
 Doth  with  his  lofty  and  slirill  sounding  throat 
 Awake  the  god  of  day  ;  and  at  his  warning, 
 Wht-ther  in  sea  or  iuc,  in  earth  or  air, 
 'J'lie  extravagant  and  erring  spirit  hies 
 To  his  confine." 
 
 When  the  bridegroom  brings  the  bride  home  and  either  the  horse  is 
 tired  or  a  wheel  breaks,  it  is  a  sign  of  very  bad  luck, 
 
 ^\'hcn  after  a  severe  winter  in  Russia  or  Poland  wolves  have  become  so 
 bold  that  they  venture  to  attack  human  beings,  the  common  people  think 
 they  are  men  bewitched  into  wolves  who  come  to  seek  the  blood  of 
 children.     Here  we   have  the  old  story  of  the  were-wolvcs,  just  such  as 
 
SLAVONIC  RELIGION.  269 
 
 Herodotus  told  us  of  the  Neuri,  merely  repeating  a  very  ancient  tradition, 
 that  they  were  in  the  habit  of  becoming  wolves  every  year  for  a  few  days. 
 These  Neuri  were  in  all  probability  a  Slavonic  tribe,  who  occupied  the 
 territory  which  corresponds  to  a  certain  extent  with  the  modern  Volhynia. 
 The  word  wei'e  in  the  compound  were-wolf^  is  really  one  of  the  old  Aryan 
 words  for  man  wyras  in  Lithuanian,  77>  in  Latin,  and  in  Welsh  givr. 
 
 For  another  instance  of  belief  in  were-wolves,  so  widely  spread,  see  the 
 Irish  version  of  the  Historia  Britonum  of  Nennius,  a  curious  passage  in 
 which  may  be  translated  as  follows  : — 
 
 "  There  are  certain  people  in  Eri,  namely,  the  race  of  Laighne  Faelaidh, 
 in  Ossory ;  they  pass  into  the  forms  of  wolves  whenever  they  please,  and 
 kill  cattle  according  to  tiie  custom  of  wolves,  and  they  quit  their  own 
 bodies  ;  and  if  they  are  wounded  while  abroad,  the  same  wounds  will  be 
 on  tiieir  bodies  in  their  houses,  and  the  raw  flesh  devoured  while  abroad 
 will  be  in  their  teeth." 
 
 The  leanness  of  children  was  attributed  to  witches,  Boginky,  who  stole 
 fat  children  and  substituted  thin  ones  for  them. 
 
 The  Slavs  had  also  spirits  of  fire  and  water.  Procopius  tells  us  that 
 they  worshipped  rivers  (crc/Jouo-i  /xaToi  koI  TroToynovs).  Vuk  Stephanovich, 
 who  was  the  first  to  collect  Serbian  ballads  and  to  write  of  the  superstitions 
 of  his  country,  tells  us  of  the  Dodola  feast,  which  is  connected  with  this 
 primitive  cultus  of  water.  When  a  drought  has  continued  for  a  long  time, 
 a  young  girl  is  entirely  clothed  in  a  dress  of  grass,  herbs,  and  flowers. 
 She  goes  from  house  to  house,  and  in  the  midst  of  dances  is  constantly 
 drenched  with  water.  She  is  called  Dodola,  and  the  song  which  her 
 companions  sing  round  her  is  given  in  the  first  volume  of  the  national 
 songs  of  Serbia,  collected  by  Vuk, — 
 
 "  Nasha  Doda,  Boga  moli 
 Our  Doda,  pray  thou  to  God." 
 
 Paton,  in  his  travels  in  Serbia,  gives  us  a  good  description  of  this 
 festival  ;  he  tells  us  that  the  custom  used  to  be  observed  in  the  Serbian 
 districts  in  Hungary,  but  it  has  now  been  forbidden  by  the  priests. 
 
 The  worship  of  rivers  may  be  traced  in  many  other  countries.  For 
 exam[)le,  we  know  from  Herodotus,  that  father  of  ancient  folk-lore  and 
 ancient  sagas,  who  observed  everything  with  the  keenest  curiosity,  and 
 wrote  about  what  he  did  sqc  like  a  poet— we  know,  I  say,  that  rivers  were 
 held  sacred  by  the  ancient  Persians,  and  we  find  the  ancient  Greeks  in 
 the  habit  of  consecrating  locks  of  their  hair  to  rivers.  A  river  seems  so 
 full  of  life  and  continuity,  to  carry  with  it  such  power  and  vitality,  that  we 
 need  not  be  surprised  at  this  ancient  and  picturesque  superstition. 
 
 The  Slavs  believed  in  the  existence  of  water-nymphs ;  the  Russians 
 called  them  rtisalki,  a  pretty  word  about  the  derivation  of  which  there 
 has  been  a  great  deal  of  dispute,  but  the  subject  is  too  special  and 
 academic  to  be  introduced  here.  According  to  one  form  of  the  super- 
 stition, these  spirits  were  the   souls   of  unbaptized  children  or  drowned 
 
270  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 women.     They  correspond  to  the  Nereids  and  Sirens  of  the  Greeks  ;  the 
 
 Lorelei  of  the  Germans,  and  the  Neckar  of  the  Swedes.     They  allured 
 
 travellers  to   their    destruction,   and   I  need   not  tell  you  of    the  many 
 
 graceful  poems  which  have  been  written  in  the  literatures  of  all  countries 
 
 upon  this  beautiful  superstition. 
 
 Vou  have  probably,  most  of  you,  read  the  pretty  German  story  of  La 
 
 Motte  Fouque,  called  "  Undine,"  and  my  late  friend,  Sir  Samuel  Ferguson, 
 
 in  that  fine  poem  of  his,  of  which  we  may  so  safely  predict  that  it  will 
 
 be  read  as  long  as  the  English  language  is  spoken,  viz.,  the  "  Forging  of 
 
 the  Anchor,"  tells  us  how  the  anchor  may  descend, — 
 
 "  ITaply  in  a  cove, 
 Sliell-strnwn,  and  consecrate  of  old  to  some  Undine's  love, 
 To  find  the  long-haired  niermaidens." 
 
 In  the  Ukraine  these  water-nymphs  are  called  Mavki,  and  in  Poland 
 Wili,  and  upon  these  latter  many  beautiful  poems  have  been  written  by 
 Adam  Mickiewicz,  the  national  poet  of  Poland. 
 
 The  Vilas,  as  they  are  styled  among  the  Serbs,  play  a  very  important 
 part  in  the  mythology  of  that  country.  In  Serbian  poetry,  "  fair  as  a 
 mountain-vila,"  is  a  favourite  epithet  applied  to  a  woman,  and  "swift  as 
 a  vila"  is  said  of  a  horse.  Many  of  the  songs  in  the  collection  of  Vuk 
 Stephanovich  are  consecrated  to  Vilas ;  among  the  Bulgarians  they  are 
 called  Samovilas,  or  solitary,  and  frequently  exhibit  very  malignant 
 characteristics,  and  are  jealous  of  and  hostile  to  female  beauty.  The 
 Polish  Wilis  had  their  dances,  traces  of  which  remained  in  magic-rings,  as 
 with  us.  They  took  severe  vengeance  upon  those  who  disturbed  their 
 dances.  Sometimes  the  Samovilas  marry  mortals  and  bear  them  children  ; 
 just  as  in  the  story  so  beautifully  told  by  Leyden,  the  Scotch  poet,  in  his 
 pretty  verses  entitled,  "  The  Maid  of  Colonsay." 
 
 "  And  ever  as  the  year  returns, 
 
 The  charm-bound  sailors  know  tiie  day  ; 
 For  sa<lly  still  the  mermaid  mourns 
 The  lovely  chief  of  Colonsay." 
 
 Beside  the  mermaids  there  are  the  Tsar  morskoi,  or  King  of  the  Sea, 
 and  the  Vodni  muzh  or  man  of  the  water,  and  the  Vodna  zhena  or  woman 
 of  the  water,  who  in  the  same  way  as  the  rusalki  lure  people  to  their  de- 
 struction. Another  form  of  the  same  superstition  is  that  of  the  Kelpie  in 
 Scotland.  Besides  this  Vodni  muz/t,  or  vodiani,  as  he  is  sometimes  called, 
 there  is  the  Topielich,  who  causes  people  to  be  drowned,  and  Zmok,  or 
 water-dragon,  who  is  able  at  other  times  to  appear  in  the  form  of  a  bird. 
 
 Before  leaving  these  watcr-si)irits,  I  must  mention  that  the  Bohemians, 
 before  Christianity  was  introduced  among  them,  used  to  ofter  sacrifices  to 
 rivers.  Nestor  also  tells  that  the  cultus  of  lakes  and  fountains  prevailed 
 among  the  ancient  Poles.  Mickiewicz,  who  has  already  been  mentioned, 
 one  of  whose  chief  pleasures  it  was  to  clothe  in  charming  verse  the  old 
 traditions  of  his  country,  has  written  a  beautiful  ])oem  on  a  magic  lake 
 near  Nowogrodek  in  Lithuania,  the  place  of  his  birth. 
 
SLAVONIC  RELIGION.  271 
 
 Those  familiar  with  the  folk-songs  of  the  Russian  people,  especially 
 those  in  vogue  among  the  Cossacks,  will  remember  the  many  songs  upon 
 rivers  ;  for  instance,  the  Don,  who  is  called  by  the  ])layful  name  of  Don 
 Ivanovich,  or  son  of  John,  and  to  him  the  epithet  tikhi  or  quiet  is 
 always  applied. 
 
 Beside  water-spirits  the  Slavs  also  had  their  spirits  of  the  mountains,  like 
 the  Oreads  of  the  Greeks ;  among  the  Serbs  or  Lusatian  Wends,  a  small 
 Slavonic  i)eople  inhabiting  parts  of  Saxony  and  Prussia,  they  were  called 
 Horzoni  (from  hora^  a  mountain).  I  have  already  spoken  of  the  sacred 
 groves  and  trees,  calling  attention  at  the  same  time  to  the  wide-spread 
 influence  of  this  cultiis.  It  is  found  almost  everywhere.  In  the  regions 
 of  the  Caucasus,  where  the  population  is  not  of  Slavonic  origin,  we  have 
 repeated  stories  of  sacred  trees,  and  a  very  interesting  paper  on  the 
 subject  was  published  a  few  years  ago  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Caucasian 
 Geographical  Society.  There  has  been  frequently  mixed  up  with  this 
 worship  of  trees  the  idea  that  some  human  life  depended  upon  them. 
 Readers  of  the  classics  will  remember  the  shrieks  that  issued  from  the 
 tree  that  was  being  cut  down  in  the  ^'Eneid,  when  it  was  discovered  that 
 it  was  really  a  man,  Polydorus,  who  had  been  changed  into  a  tree.  To 
 the  ancients  the  scruple  about  cutting  down  a  venerable  tree  would  be 
 stronger  than  to  us. 
 
 Plants  of  all  kinds  played  a  conspicuous  part  in  the  mythology  of  the 
 Slavs,  as  would  naturally  be  the  case  with  people  who  were  so  purely 
 agricultural,  and  all  whose  occupations  made  them  devotedly  attached  to 
 rural  life.  Among  the  spirits  who  frequented  the  woods  was  a  malicious 
 female  goblin,  called  Psipolnitza.  She  was  said  by  an  old  author  to  go 
 about  the  fields  while  reapers  were  busy  and  to  break  the  arms  and  legs  of 
 those  who  were  working.  The  Russians  called  their  male  forest  demons 
 lieshi,  or  the  men  of  the  woods,  a  kind  of  satyrs,  just  such  as  we  find 
 described  in  ^sop's  fables  chatting  familiarly  with  woodmen.  We  know 
 that  the  ancients  firmly  believed  in  these  creatures. 
 
 In  that  quaint  book,  Baddeley's  "  Historical  Meditations,"  published 
 about  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century,  we  get  the  following  strange 
 story  : — 
 
 "Plutarch  writeth  that  there  was  a  Satyr  taken  when  Sulla  determined  to 
 pass  with  a  fleet  of  fifteen  hundred  sail  from  Dyrrachium  to  Brundusium. 
 The  city  of  Apollonia  (saith  he)  is  not  far  from  Dyrrachium  ;  and  hard  by 
 Apollonia  is  a  ])ark  dedicated  to  the  nymphs,  where,  within  a  green  valley 
 and  a  fair  meadow,  there  issue  forth,  here  and  there,  certain  bubbles  of 
 fire,  which  flow  continually  ;  and  they  say  that  a  satyr  was  taken  there 
 asleep,  being  such  in  every  respect  as  painters  and  image-makers  shape 
 him.  So  he  was  brought  to  Sulla,  and  being  asked  by  many  truchmen 
 [interpreters]  who  he  was,  he  answered  nothing  that  one  could  understand  ; 
 but  only  cast  forth  a  harsh  voice,  mingled  with  the  neighing  of  a  horse  and 
 the  crying   of  a  goat,  which  Sulla  wondered  at,  and,  not  able  to  abide 
 
272  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 it,  made  liim  be  taken  away  out  of  his  sight,  as  a  monstrous  thing."  Ac- 
 cording to  the  Russians,  the  birds  and  beasts  of  the  forest  are  under  the 
 l)rotection  of  these  lieslii,  and  according  to  the  treatment  which  tliey 
 receive,  they  assist  or  impede  sportsmen.  The  woods  echo  with  the  mys- 
 terious voices  of  these  creatures,  and  sometimes  they  carry  off  maidens  to 
 be  their  wives.  With  them  must  be  probably  classed  the  demon  named 
 Polkan — half-man  and  half-beast — who  lived  in  the  wood.  The  //«/// had 
 the  power  of  changing  their  stature  at  their  will  :  they  could  walk  in  the 
 midst  of  the  grass  and  be  no  taller  than  the  blades  ;  if  they  went  into  the 
 woods,  they  were  as  tall  as  the  trees.  They  are  prettily  alluded  to  in  one  of 
 the  poems  of  Koltsov — "  Dom  Lies7iika  " — (The  House  of  the  Woodman), 
 who  keeps  the  door  of  his  house  fast  shut  that  the  spirits  of  the  woods 
 may  not  enter. 
 
 A  superstitious  veneration  was  shown  for  the  cuckoo,  and  in  one  of  the 
 Serbian  ballads  the  soul  of  a  dead  rAan  goes  into  a  cuckoo.  In  the  Malo- 
 Russian  ballads  the  cuckoo  is  considered  a  bird  of  grief.  The  swallow 
 was  considered  holy  :  it  was  the  messenger  of  spring  and  love,  and  it  was 
 allowed  to  nestle  in  temples  and  the  images  of  the  gods  among  northern 
 people,  as  it  was  among  the  ancients.  Both  the  cock  and  raven  play  a 
 great  part  in  all  Slavonic  legends  :  they  are  supposed  to  be  messengers  of 
 the  gods  ;  perhaps  this  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  ghosts  departed  at  the 
 crowing  of  the  cock. 
 
 There  are  frequent  mentions  of  serpents  in  the  old  Bulgarian  folk-songs: 
 Hartknoch,  who  lived  at  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century,  says  they  were 
 worshipped  among  the  old  Prussians;  and  we  know  from  Herberstein,  the 
 traveller  of  the  sixteenth  century,  that  the  pagan  Lithuanians  worshipped 
 lizards.  The  superstition  about  vampires  (in  Russian,  upiori)  largely  pre- 
 vails in  all  Slavonic  countries. 
 
 Diseases  were  supposed  to  be  conveyed  by  the  maiden  of  the  plague, 
 called  Chuma.  She  was  thought  to  go  from  house  to  house,  wrapped  in  a 
 white  veil  and  carrying  the  disease  with  her.  Those  smitten  are  supposed 
 to  have  held  converse  with  her.  She  is  called  by  the  Serbs  Ki/s^a;  by  the 
 Lusatians,  Snicrniza,  or  the  goddess  of  death.  She  only  enjoys  her  power, 
 however,  till  the  beginning  of  the  new  year. 
 
 The  Russians  have  also  their  giants  and  stories  of  fights  with  giants,  re- 
 minding us  of  our  Jack  the  Giant  Killer,  as,  in  the  tale  of  Sviatogor,  who 
 does  not  feel  that  mountains  have  been  thrown  i.pon  him.  Ilya  Muromcts 
 is  the  great  genial  giant  of  many  a  legend.  His  blows,  however,  can  hardly 
 arouse  Sviatogor  from  his  dream  :  the  giant  thinks  that  they  are  only 
 pebbles  falling  upon  him.  At  the  third  blow  he  turns  and  says  to  the 
 hero:  "You  are  brave  as  a  man;  remain  brave  among  them;  you  will 
 never  be  able  to  measure  your  strength  with  me.  See  what  my  size  is  ;  the 
 earth  itself  cannot  contain  me  ;  I  have  at  last  found  this  mountain  and 
 rested  upon  it."  The  bilinas  are  filled  with  his  magnificent  exploits  eitiier 
 alone  or  with  Sviatogor.     On  one  occasion  he  visits  the  father  of  the  latter 
 
SLAVONIC  RELIGION.  273 
 
 hero,  who,  being  blind,  wishes  to  touch  the  hand  of  Ilya,  to  see  whether  it 
 has  the  champion's  true  firmness  and  strength.  Ilya  takes  a  piece  of  iron, 
 makes  it  red  hot,  and  offers  it  to  the  veteran,  who,  grasping  it  so  tightly 
 that  he  makes  the  sparks  fly  in  all  directions,  exclaims,  "  Thou  hast  a  strong 
 hand  and  hot  blood  ;  thou  art  a  true  hero." 
 
 Of  course  as  the  Slavs  have  their  giants,  they  have  also  their  dwarfs 
 — such  as  a  kind  of  Tom  Thumb,  Palchick,  and  other  names.  A 
 formidable  demon  is  the  Vii,  whose  glance  reduces  the  person  who 
 meets  him  to  ashes.  He  is  introduced  into  a  very  striking  tale  by  Gogol, 
 the  eminent  novelist. 
 
 A  curious  belief  with  regard  to  the  dead,  was  that  on  a  certain  day  it 
 was  possible  to  see  the  forms  of  all  those  who  were  destined  to  die  during 
 the  year.  This  superstition  has  been  introduced  into  Russian  poetry,  and 
 perhaps  some  of  my  hearers  may  remember  it  in  the  first  work  of  the  great 
 novelist,  Turgueniev  ''  Zapiski  Okhotnika''  (Memoirs  of  a  Sportsman). 
 
 I  have  attempted  in  the  present  lecture,  limited  as  I  am  by  time,  to  give 
 you  a  short  sketch  of  some  of  the  leading  beliefs  of  the  ancient  Slavs,  before 
 Christianity  was  introduced  among  them.  No  one  has  yet  succeeded  in 
 drawing  out  a  complete  system  of  their  pantheon,  if  I  may  so  speak.  The 
 materials  for  its  reconstruction  are  scanty — for  the  Russians  we  have  the 
 allusions  in  Nestor  ;  for  the  Slavs  on  the  Baltic,  the  chroniclers  whom  I 
 have  already  quoted — Thietmar,  Adam  of  Bremen,  and  Helmold  ;  for  the 
 Poles,  Dlugosz  ;  for  the  Bohemians,  to  a  less  extent,  Cosmas.  Besides 
 the^e  we  have  the  valuable  bilini,  or  old  songs,  and  the  many  allusions 
 in  j)roverbs,  etc. 
 
 Those  acquainted  with  the  Slavonic  languages  know  that  the  word  for 
 God  in  all  of  them  differs  from  that  in  use  among  other  Indo-European 
 peoples.  It  is  Bog,  and  is  connected  with  the  Zend  word  bogha :  traces  of 
 the  same  root  are  to  be  found  in  the  word  bogati,  rich  ;  bogatsvo,  wealth. 
 
 But  the  question  will  naturally  suggest  itself:  What  sacrifices  did  the  Slavs 
 offer  to  their  gods?  We  hear  of  men  and  sheep  being  offered  upon  the  hills 
 and  in  the  woods  were  the  images  of  the  gods  were  erected,  and  frufts  of 
 the  field  were  also  brought.  Of  human  sacrifices  we  hear  but  little,  although 
 they  seem  to  have  occurred  occasionally  among  the  offerings  made  to  their 
 gods  by  the  Baltic  Slavs.  We  do  not  find  anything  so  terrible  among 
 these  peoples  as  occurred  among  the  Mexicans,  for  example,  who  tore  out 
 the  hearts  of  their  victims  and  placed  them  in  the  mouth  of  their  idol 
 Huizilopochtli  ?  The  Slavs  seem  on  the  whole  to  have  been  a  gentle 
 people,  living  quietly  in  their  communes  with  a  very  democratic  form  of 
 government,  although  no  doubt  some  of  the  stories  told  of  their  pastoral 
 simplicity  in  ancient  times  are  exaggerations. 
 
 It  is  not  a  little  curious  that  the  titles  in  use  among  them  at  a  later 
 period  are  all  of  foreign  origin.  Tsar  is  of  course  Caesar,  and  was  a  title 
 not  assumed  by  the  sovereign  in  Russia  till  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth 
 century.   The  word  for  king,  kral  or  korol,  was  simply  derived  from  Charle- 
 
 VOL.  I,  T 
 
274  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 magne,  or  Charles  the  Great,  as  he  is  now  more  often  called.  We  must 
 remember  that  the  German  form  of  Charles  is  Karl  (really  signifying  a 
 manly  fellow),  and  indeed  the  word  has  been  preserved  in  that  signifi- 
 cation in  Scandinavian.  The  Russian  word  for  Prince,  Kniaz,  is  really 
 connected  with  the  German  Konig,  and  we  shall  see  the  connection  more 
 easily,  if  we  can  bear  in  mind  that  the  old  form  of  Kniaz  has  a  nasal  in  it. 
 The  word  which  was  once  used  in  Russia  for  a  nobleman,  boyar,  has  been 
 shown  by  Miklosich  to  have  been  of  Turkish  origin.  Bearing  these  facts 
 in  mind,  we  shall  not  be  astonished  to  see  that  among  the  ancient  Slavs 
 there  was  no  particular  priestly  caste.  The  office  seems  to  have  belonged 
 to  the  heads  of  the  families  and  tribes.  In  the  same  way  there  was  no 
 priestly  caste  among  the  ancient  Romans,  nor  indeed  has  there  ever  been 
 one  among  the  Mahomedans. 
 
 According  to  some  writers,  the  dead  were  buried  under  the  threshold  of 
 their  houses,  but  in  many  places  vast  sepulchres  are  discovered.  From 
 the  early  Arabian  writers  we  learn  that  the  Slavs  who  dwelt  in  the 
 southern  part  of  the  country  burnt  their  dead,  and  that  widows  were 
 occasionally  immolated  with  their  husbands.  This  may  have  been  the 
 custom  with  some  tribes,  but  burial  must  also  have  commonly  prevailed, 
 as  we  find  by  the  vast  Kurgans,  especially  in  the  South  of  Russia,  where 
 the  bones  of  the  warrior  are  found  resting  with  those  of  his  wife  and 
 attendants. 
 
 Herodotus  thus  describes  the  interment  of  a  chief  among  the  ancient 
 Scythians,  and  we  feel  pretty  sure  that  these  Scythians  included  some 
 Slavonic  tribes  : 
 
 "They  who  have  the  care  of  the  corpse  carry  it  with  them  to  another  of 
 the  tribes  which  are  under  the  Scythian  rule  followed  by  those  whom  they 
 first  visited.  On  completing  the  circuit  of  all  the  tribes  under  their  sway 
 they  find  themselves  in  the  country  of  the  Gerrhi,  who  are  the  most  remote 
 of  all,  and  so  they  come  to  the  tombs  of  their  kings.  There  the  body  of  the 
 dead  king  is  laid  in  the  grave  prepared  for  it,  stretched  upon  a  mattress, 
 spears  are  fixed  in  the  ground  on  either  side  of  the  corpse  and  beams 
 stretched  across  it  to  form  a  roof,  whicii  is  covered  with  a  thatching  of  ozier 
 twigs.  In  the  open  space  round  the  body  of  the  king  they  bury  one  of  his 
 wives,  first  killing  her  by  strangling,  and  also  his  cup-bearer,  his  cook,  his 
 groom,  his  lacciuey,  his  messenger,  some  of  his  horses,  firstlings  of  all  his 
 other  possessions  and  some  golden  cups,  for  they  use  neither  silver  nor 
 brass.  After  this  they  set  to  work  and  raise  a  vast  mound  above  the  grave, 
 all  of  them  vying  with  each  other  and  seeking  to  make  it  as  tall  as  possible." 
 
 This  may  well  have  been  the  grave  of  an  ancient  Slav,  and  we  need  not 
 be  at  all  puzzled  by  finding  that  Herodotus  uses  the  word  king,  for  he 
 would  ai)i>ly  that  exi)ression  to  the  head  man  of  any  tribe.  Tombs  of  this 
 sort  have  freciuently  ix^en  excavated  in  Russia,  the  most  celebrated  being 
 that  which  was  found  a  few  years  ago  near  Kertch,  containing  many  golden 
 ornaments  and  a  beautiful  electron  vase  now  preserved  in  the  museum  of 
 the  Hermitage  at  St.  Petersburg. 
 
SLAVONIC  RELIGION.  275 
 
 On  the  whole  there  seems  good  reason  to  think  that  the  ancient  Slavs 
 believed  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  although  Thietmar  says,  "  cum 
 morte  temporali  omnia  putant  finiri."  But  that  the  early  Slavs  thought 
 the  soul  is  independent  of  the  body,  is  proved  by  their  idea  that  when  a 
 man  is  asleep  his  soul  might  quit  his  body  and  take  various  shapes.  Thus 
 they  personified  the  soul  under  different  forms,  at  one  time  as  smoke,  at 
 another  as  fire,  at  another  in  the  form  of  a  butterfly.  The  belief  that  the 
 soul  after  death  wanders  about  its  earthly  habitation  is  shown  even  to  the 
 present  time  by  the  custom  of  putting  cakes  at  the  window  for  the  dead  at 
 certain  feasts. 
 
 We  constantly  find  mention  in  old  Russian  books  of  wizards,  and  sooth- 
 saying was  very  much  practised  among  them.  But  the  great  places  from 
 which  they  procured  their  wizards  appear  to  have  been  Lapland  and  Fin- 
 land. Lapland  enjoyed  considerable  reputation  for  sorcerers,  and  wasat  a 
 later  period  of  the  world's  history  what  Thessaly  was  at  an  earlier,  ^[ilton, 
 we  must  remember,  speaks  of  the  Lapland  witches,  at  whose  charm  the  moon 
 became  eclipsed,  and  one  of  the  strangest  scenes  in  history  is  that  in  which  we 
 learn  how  Ivan  the  Terrible  had  witches  fetched  from  Lapland  in  order  that 
 they  might  be  consulted  about  his  death,  reminding  us  of  the  superstitious 
 terrors  of  Louis  XT.  The  whole  scene  is  given  with  vigour  in  the  diary  of 
 Sir  Jerome  Horsey,  the  English  ambassador  who  has  left  us  so  vivid  a 
 picture  of  Ivan's  reign.  He  tells  us  that  three  score  witches  were  brought 
 from  out  the  north,  where  there  is  store,  between  Cholmogori  and  Lapland. 
 They  were  carefiilly  directed  and  daily  visited  and  attended  by  Bogdan 
 Bielski,  the  lunperor's  favourite,  who  went  to  them  to  receive  their  divina- 
 tions. We  can  also  find  what  curious  superstitious  beliefs  the  Russians 
 had  from  the  Stoglav,  or  Book  of  the  Hundred  Chapters,  compiled  in  the 
 reign  of  Ivan  IV.  with  the  view  of  arranging  the  discipline  of  the  Church, 
 education  and  other  matters. 
 
 It  will  thus  have  been  seen  that  Slavonic  religion  was  more  or  less  a  wor- 
 ship of  the  forms  of  nature,  the  phenomena  of  the  sky  being  pre-eminent. 
 Man  in  his  ruder  state  sees  these  strange  forces  around  him,  which  he  cannot 
 interpret,  and  attempts  to  propitiate  them.  Each  clement  has  its  deity — the 
 lakes,  the  rivers,  the  groves,  and  the  mountains,  teem  with  them,  but  the 
 idolatry  of  the  Slavs  did  not  take  the  graceful  form  of  the  anthromorphism 
 of  the  Greeks,  whose  marvellous  power  of  idealizing  the  human  body  has 
 never  been  equalled.  One  reason  generally  assigned  why  no  specimen  of 
 the  old  gods  of  tiie  Slavs  has  been  preserved  is  that  they  were  ordinarily  of 
 wood,  and  the  Slavs  do  not  seem  to  have  built  them  any  elaborate  temples. 
 They  were,  no  doubt,  often  like  the  ancient  Druids  among  ourselves,  con- 
 tented with  the  grand  temples  of  the  forests,  where  by  silence  and  darkness 
 religion  was  made  mysterious. 
 
 But  there  was  to  be  an  end  to  their  simple  worship;  in  the  ninth  century 
 came  the  great  Slavonic  apostles,  Cyril  and  Methodius — according  to  some, 
 Greeks  of  Salonica ;  but  they  may  have  been  Gr^cised  Slavs,  for  otherwise 
 
276  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 how  can  we  explain  their  readiness  with  the  Slavonic  tongue,  which  they 
 could  hardly  have  acquired  so  perfectly  ? 
 
 The  Bible  was  translated  by  them,  and  an  alphabet  invented,  based 
 mainly  upon  the  Greek.  The  Russians,  Bulgarians,  and  Serbs  received 
 their  Christianity  from  the  Greek  or  Orthodox  Church,  and  have  remained 
 members  of  that  communion  to  the  present  day.  The  Poles,  Bohemians, 
 and  Slovenes  accepted  their  faith  from  Latin  missionaries,  and  are  at  this 
 day  Roman  Catholics,  save  where  some  vestiges  of  the  great  Protestant 
 struggles  in  those  countries  are  still  preserved,  and  in  no  part  of  Europe 
 was  the  contest  keener  than  there  ;  but  how  Protestantism  was  introduced 
 there,  and  why  it  has  been  so  nearly  stamped  out,  cannot  be  told  in  the 
 present  lecture,  although  it  is  one  of  the  most  startling  episodes  in  the 
 history  of  the  progress  of  thought  and  religious  freedom. 
 
 We  may  say  in  conclusion  that  the  simple  beliefs  of  the  Slavs  rendered 
 them  easily  inclined  to  receive  Christianity.  There  was  no  powerful 
 religious  caste  to  view  with  disfavour  the  new  doctrines  by  finding  itself 
 dispossessed  of  power  and  influence.  Their  religion  was  purely  of  a 
 domestic  kind,  and  was  not  a  state  engine.  There  were  no  kings  or 
 powerful  chiefs  who  were  supposed  to  have  the  special  protection  of 
 heaven.  They  seem  to  have  been  fairly  tolerant,  for  in  the  treaties  be- 
 tween the  Greeks  and  Russians,  the  latter  invoke  their  deities  by  the  side 
 of  the  God  of  the  Christians.  Christianity  was  not  introduced  as  the  cult 
 of  any  conquering  race,  and  carried  forward  at  the  point  of  the  sword. 
 Among  the  Bohemians,  Poles,  Russians,  Serbs,  and  Bulgarians,  it  was  intro- 
 duced by  such  excellent  workers  as  Cyril  and  Methodius,  Adalbert  and 
 Bishop  Otho  of  Bamberg.  The  accounts  some  of  these  missionaries  gave 
 of  them  were  very  favourable,  and  testify  to  their  gentleness  and  simplicity. 
 The  biographer  of  Bishop  Otho,  whose  very  interesting  life  has  been 
 printed  in  the  Monumenta  Polonice  Historica  of  Bielowski,  remarks  of  the 
 Pomeranians,  the  Slavonic  tribe  once  dwelling  on  the  coasts  of  the  Baltic, 
 that  they  never  found  it  necessary  to  keep  anything  under  lock  and  key. 
 They  were  much  astonished,  he  writes,  when  they  beheld  the  chests  and 
 trunks  of  the  bishop  locked. 
 
 Among  such  a  people  the  gentle  doctrines  of  Christianity,  as  might  be 
 expected,  were  easily  diffused,  and  to  this  day  the  Slavs  have  remained  an 
 essentially  religious  people.  The  devotion  of  the  Russian  to  his  Church  is 
 evident,  wherever  we  travel  in  the  country.  Nothing  strikes  the  stranger 
 more  than  the  bands  of  religious  pilgrims  continually  wandering  to  visit 
 sacred  shrines  such  as  that  of  Kiev  and  the  Pestcherskaya  Lavra,  for 
 instance,  where  we  find  large  hostels  built  to  receive  these  bogomoltsi,  or 
 pilgrims,  for  a  trifling  cost.  Of  course,  it  is  very  easy  to  sneer  at  all  this  ; 
 but  Lcroy-Beaulieu,  whom  I  have  quoted  on  a  previous  occasion,  has  said 
 very  plainly  that  in  his  opinion  true  feeling  underlies  this  worship.  If  these 
 and  other  customs  are  reliques  of  paganism,  then  the  Italians,  Spaniards,  and 
 even  the  Irish  may  be  called  pagans.     The  same  is  the  case  with  the  Pole, 
 
SLAVONIC  RELIGION,  277 
 
 who  has  his  shrines  for  pilgrimages.  Among  the  Bohemians  the  battle 
 between  Protestantism  and  Catholicism  was  fought  in  the  keenest  manner 
 in  the  days  of  Huss  and  Zizka. 
 
 But  the  subject  of  my  lecture  is  strictly  the  old  religious  beliefs  of  the 
 Slavs,  and  these  are  now  only  remembered  in  quaint  customs  or  fragments 
 of  old  songs  or  proverbs.  It  may  be  safely  said  that  no  peoples  on  the 
 earth  have  richer  collections  than  they  of  these  interesting  traditions. 
 For  a  long  time  the  Russians  did  not  collect  their  folklore  ;  for  when 
 the  educated  classes  were  occupied  in  learning  the  language  and  aping 
 the  manners  of  the  French,  it  was  not  likely  that  they  would  pay  any 
 attention  to  these  rude  monuments  of  ^village  lore.  But  things  are  now 
 altered,  and  no  branch  of  human  learning  is  more  studied  than  the  popular 
 one.  For  estimating  the  wealth  of  Slavonic  folklore,  you  must  betake 
 yourself  to  the  pages  of  the  late  Mr.  Ralston  and  Mr.  Wralislaw.  The 
 bilini,  or  legendary  poems,  are  not  much  known  in  this  country  ;  a  few 
 have  been  translated.  The  proverbs,  however,  are  wholly  neglected ; 
 This  is  much  to  be  regretted,  because  they  throw  great  light  upon  popular 
 life. 
 
 1  will  therefore  now  conclude  my  brief  sketch  by  hoping  that  you  will  not 
 leave  without  taking  with  you  some  interest  in  this  rather  strange  and  out- 
 of-the-way  subject.  It  has  not  been  in  my  power  to  give  a  perfect  sketch  of 
 the  Slavonic  Pantheon,  if  I  may  use  the  term.  I  have,  however,  given  you 
 some  broad  and  general  outlines  which  I  hope  will  not  prove  unserviceable. 
 
TEUTONIC    HEATHENDOM. 
 
 Bv  F.  York.  Powell,  M.A. 
 
 It  can  hardly  be  denied  that  there  is  an  enduring  interest  in  the  subject 
 of  this  lecture — the  beliefs  of  the  heathen  Teutons.  No  one  who  cares 
 for  the  history  of  the  thought  of  our  race  but  must  feel  an  interest  in  trac- 
 ing back  to  their  springs  the  courses  of  such  mighty  rivers.  But  though 
 on  this  voyage  of  discovery  the  way  becomes  darker  and  darker,  and 
 difficulties  crowd  around  as  one  nears  these  sources,  yet  some  part  of  the 
 voyage  is  already  mapped  out. 
 
 The  material  investigation  existing  includes,  first,  written  evidence,  which, 
 apart  from  the  fragmentary  notices  preserved  by  Tacitus,  Dio,  Velleius, 
 Florus,  the  Augustan  historians,  Marcellinus,  and  other  classical  authors, 
 together  with  the  scraps  furnished  by  later  Christian  chroniclers,  such  as 
 Eginhard,  Prudentius,  Asser,  and  Adam  of  Bremen,  consists  mainly  of 
 exact  and  excellent  accounts  of  heathen  ways  and  customs,  preserved  by 
 an  Icelandic  priest  of  noble  family,  named  Are,  born  in  1067,  who  took 
 a  great  interest  in  the  antiquities  of  his  race,  and  wrote  books  (c.  1 100-25), 
 in  which  are  preserved  a  number  of  most  curious  traditions. 
 
 Then  there  is  a  collection  of  old  songs  or  lays,  the  so  called  Older  Edda, 
 which,  it  is  believed,  was  compiled  in  the  twelfth  century,  probably  in  the 
 Orkney  or  Shetland  Islands,  by  some  Icelander  who  retained  an  interest  in 
 the  old  heathen  legends  which  but  for  him  had  died  out  of  memory.  He 
 has  preserved  some  twenty  or  thirty  fragmentary  poems.  The  Younger 
 Edda  (really  a  gradus  or  poetic  dictionary)  was  compiled  by  Snorre  Stur- 
 lason,  1 1 78-1 24 1,  the  Icelandic  historian,  and  other  scholars  and  poets  for 
 the  benefit  of  those  who  intended  to  compose  vernacular  verse  ;  for  Ice- 
 landic poets,  even  after  the  acceptance  of  Christianity,  were  accustomed 
 (like  our  own  poets  of  last  century)  to  make  allusions  to  old  mythological 
 gods. 
 
 Next  in  value  comes  the  Latin  Historia  Danica  of  Saxo,  the  monk  of 
 Lund  (alx>ut  1215),  who  not  only  wrote  a  good  history  of  his  own  times 
 but  out  of  ancient  songs  and  traditions — many  furnished  to  him  by  Ice- 
 landers and  i^rsons  familiar  with  other  western  Scandinavian  colonies — put 
 together  a  curious  account  of  the  mythic  days  of  Denmark,  working  after 
 the  fashion  of  our  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth.* 
 
 '  The  chief  works  of  Are,  Ijinindma-bbc  (The  Book  of  .Settlements),  Libellut  Islan- 
 donitn,  and  the  Stpiy  of  (he  Conveision  of  Icclani,  l)ave  been  edited  by  the  late  Dr.  Vig- 
 fusson  wiih  translation,  and  will  shortly  ai>]>car.  T\\z  Elder  Edda  ]iocni!i  have  been  edited 
 and  translated  by  the  same  in  Cinpii^  I'octicum  HoieaU {0\^ox(\.,  18S3).  Tlie  first  two  parts 
 of  the  prose  or  Younger  Edda  have  been  several  times  translated  into  English  by  Sir  G. 
 
 278 
 
TEUTONIC  HEATHENDOM.  279 
 
 Besides  these  main  authorities  there  are  a  vast  number  of  valuable  little 
 stories,  hints,  and  allusions  to  heathen  habits  and  beliefs,  scattered  through 
 the  vast  mediaeval  literature  of  England,  France,  and  Germany.  These 
 have  been  for  the  most  part  collected  and  arranged  in  his  masterly  and 
 delightful  way  by  Jacob  Grimm  in  his  Teutonic  Mythology,  now  accessible 
 to  all  in  Mr.  Stallybrass's  excellent  and  accurate  translation.  This  book 
 may  be  supplemented  by  M.  Rydberg's  study  of  Saxo,  entitled  Teutonic 
 Myt/iology,  and  translated  by  Rasmus  B.  Anderson  (Swan  Sonnenschein 
 &  Co.,  1889). 
 
 Jacob  Grimm  and  his  brother  William  also  set  the  example  of  collecting 
 and  using  oral  evidence,  fairy  tales  and  folk-lore  of  all  kinds,  which  still 
 linger  upon  the  lips  of  tlie  people  in  country  places,  as  material  for  the 
 history  of  mythology  and  of  the  life  and  thought  of  the  oUi.  Much  has 
 been  done  by  Germans,  Icelanders,  Scandinavians,  and  much  by  such 
 ICnglishmen  as  Halliwell  and  Campbell,  to  work  this  great  mine  of  popular 
 tradition  ;  and  recent  scholars,  especially  Mr.  A.  Lang,  Mr.  Nutt,  and 
 Mr.  Frazer,  have  shown  the  use  to  which  it  can  be  put  in  elucidating  some 
 of  the  more  important  problems  of  the  history  of  man's  past. 
 
 Such  being,  roughly,  our  materials,  how  are  we  to  study  them  ?  What 
 trains  of  thought  may  be  most  profitably  followed?  First  of  all,  it  must  be 
 acknowledged,  that  it  is  useless  to  attempt  to  solve  the  problem  by  one 
 key,  to  explain  the  religion  of  the  past  by  one  j^rinciple. 
 
 Our  early  Teuton  forefathers  were  influenced  by  aiithropotnorphism  and 
 animism,  and  thought  that  inanimate  objects,  as  stones,  stars,  and  the  ele- 
 ments, and  organisms  such  as  trees,  fishes,  birds,  and  beasts,  were  possessed 
 of  spirits  akin  to  their  own  ;  they  believed  in  dreams,  and  used  them  largely 
 as  a  means  of  foretelling  the  future  ;  they  worshipped  the  dead,  and  treated 
 their  deceased  ancestors  as  gods  ;  they  held  the  doctrine  of  correspondences, 
 i.e.,  that  things  which  had  a  superficial  likeness  had  a  deeper  resemblance 
 — from  which  last  doctrine  there  grew  up  some  of  the  earlier  systems  of 
 medicine  ;  while  the  wizard,  with  his  use  of  hypnotism,  mania,  poison, 
 jugglery,  and  medicine,  was  dreaded  and  sometimes  punished.  In  fact, 
 there  is  hardly  a  superstitious  use  or  observance,  which  a  modern  missionary 
 may  note  in  the  barbarous  Central  African  or  South  American  or  Polynesian 
 tribe  he  is  endeavouring  to  civilize  and  raise,  but  we  may  find  its  analogue 
 among  the  practices  or  beliefs  of  our  Teutonic  forefathers.  These  things 
 are  a  part  of  the  general  history  of  mankind,  they  make  up  a  mental  stage 
 through  which  progressive  nations  pass — a  stage  of  false  but  shrewd 
 reasoning,  of  clever  but  mistaken  guesses,  of  erroneous  but  plausible  con- 
 clusions, a  stage  such  as  individually  we  all  go  through  in  infancy  and 
 childhood.  Our  minds  are  perhaps  of  little  better  quality  than  our  ances- 
 tors', but  we  profit  by  the  vast  mass  of  accepted,  tested,  and  recorded 
 
 Dasent  and  others.  Are's  Ynj^Iino-a-fal  is  translated  (from  a  Danish  version)  by  Laing  in 
 his  Sia-kings  0/ Norway,  and  by  R.  B.  Anderson.  Mr.  O.  Elton  is  now  translating  Saxo's 
 History  for  the  Folk-lore  Society. 
 
28o  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 information  which  they  had  not.     We  start  higher  up  the  ladder,  and  there- 
 fore ought  to  get  a  little  higher  on  the  climb  to  knowledge. 
 
 Again,  it  is  important  that  we  should  at  once  throw  aside  the  idea  that 
 there  was  any  system,  any  organized  pantheon,  in  the  religion  of  these 
 peoples.  Their  tribes  were  small  and  isolated,  and  each  had  its  own 
 peculiar  gods  and  observances,  although  the  mould  of  each  faith  was  some- 
 what similar.  Hence  there  were  varieties  of  religious  customs  and  ideas 
 among  the  Goths,  Swedes,  Saxons,  and  Angles.  The  same  thing  was  the 
 case  in  ancient  Greece,  and  it  must  occur  in  all  civilizations  at  the  stage 
 before  small  clans  and  tribes  have  combined  into  great  leagues  and  central- 
 ized nations.  Hence  we  shall  find  many  parallel  versions  of  leading  myths. 
 Many  alternative  forms  of  the  same  tale,  many  widespread  legends  attributed 
 to  different  persons  in  different  places.  Then,  too,  one  perceives  that 
 round  the  actual  living  flesh-and-blood  hero  of  the  day  the  stories  of  former 
 heroes  crystallize.  Thus  the  stories  related  about  King  Arthur  once  be- 
 longed to  earlier  heroes — Gwyn  and  others  ;  precisely  as  1  was  once  told 
 by  a  friend  that  in  a  country  part  of  Italy  he  had  heard  a  story  of  Gari- 
 baldi, which  has  been  referred  for  many  hundreds  of  years  to  an  old 
 Semitic  hero.  Garibaldi  was  in  the  hills  with  a  small  band  of  men,  pur- 
 sued closely  by  the  cruel  Whitecoats.  The  fugitives  had  been  marching 
 hour  after  hour  in  the  burning  sun  without  a  drop  of  water ;  it  was  high 
 noon,  and  in  the  agony  of  thirst  several  of  the  General's  litde  band  threw 
 themselves  down  on  the  ground  declaring  they  could  go  no  farther. 
 Garibaldi  ordered  a  little  mountain  gun  he  had  to  be  brought  up.  This 
 gun  he  aimed  himself  at  a  conspicuous  cliff,  not  far  off,  and  fired.  Scarcely 
 had  the  smoke  of  the  gun  passed  away  when  a  glittering  thread  of  water 
 was  seen  trickling  from  the  rock  precisely  where  the  shot  had  smitten  it. 
 The  thirsty  Redshirts  drank  their  fill,  marched  on  refreshed,  and  escaped 
 their  foes.  In  the  light  of  such  a  story  it  is  easy  to  see  how  upon  Theodric, 
 the  famous  East  Gothic  king,  there  descended  legends  which,  as  Professor 
 Rhys  has  pointed  out,  belonged  to  an  earlier  and  divine  Theodric ;  how 
 upon  Ragnar  the  Northman,  upon  the  Beowulf  Jute,  and  upon  Sigofredos- 
 Arminius  the  Cheruscan  there  have  fastened  tales  of  dragon-slaying  which 
 belonged  to  more  mythical  heroes. 
 
 With  such  preliminary  note,  one  may  proceed  to  touch  on  some  of  the 
 beliefs  of  the  heathen  Teuton  world.  \Vith  regard  to  cosmogony,  three  or 
 four  different  opinions  have  reached  us,  the  oldest,  as  we  should  suppose, 
 being  extremely  infantile.  It  was,  that  originally  there  was  nothing  but  a 
 huge  giant,  who  nearly  filled  all  space.  Some  heroic  persons  killed  this 
 giant,  and  out  of  his  body  made  the  world,  sun,  moon,  etc.  At  first  such 
 stories  were  firmly  believed  in,  then  doubted,  and  afterwards  told  to 
 children  as  a  fairy  tale.  They  are,  of  course,  common  among  Aryan 
 nations. 
 
 There  were  also  tales  of  the  earth-goddess  and  the  sky-god,  of  the  god 
 of  day,  of  the  sun-goddess  and  the  moon-god,  very  like  those  in  the  classic, 
 
TEUTONIC  HEATHENDOM.  281 
 
 Polynesian  and  Semitic  mythologies.  There  was  also  a  tale  of  the  first  man 
 and  woman,  being  made  by  the  gods  out  of  two  trees,  ash  and  elder,  that 
 grew  on  the  sea-shore.  Kings  and  heroes  were  always  supposed  to  be  the 
 actual  descendants  of  the  gods,  and  became  gods  themselves  when  they 
 died. 
 
 The  world  was  looked  upon  as  a  huge  plain,  a  belief  which  existed  in 
 Greece  and  other  countries.  Man  lived  near  the  edge  of  this  earth-plain, 
 outside  was  the  ocean-stream,  as  in  Homer's  cosmogony.  Beyond  this 
 again  was  a  belt  of  frozen  land,  the  boundaries  of  which  were  indefinite, 
 where  dwelt  giants  and  demons. 
 
 All  \.\\<t  primitive  arts  and  culture  came  from  the  underworld,  won  by  the 
 clever  tricks  and  devices  of  heroes.  Swans  and  bees  came  from  a  para- 
 dise, somewhere  underground,  where  the  Fates  lived.  Sheep  and  oxen 
 were  also  believed  to  be  gifts  from  the  underworld.  Eager  was  the  sea- 
 god  and  Ran  his  wife.  Rode  the  wind-god,  and  Loke  the  evil-plotting 
 giant  who  brings  trouble  among  gods  and  men.  Man  obtained  inspiration 
 by  some  hero  stealing  from  the  giants  or  dwarves  a  certain  potent  liquid, 
 which  gave  to  him  that  quaffed  it  the  power  of  poetry,  prophecy,  and 
 memory.  As  to  the  origin  of  fire,  Woden  was  the  Prometheus  of  the 
 Teutonic  race,  as  Heimdal  was  its  culture-god  and  Sheaf  the  Triptolemos 
 who  taught  men  to  sow  corn  and  make  bread.  Frey  and  Tew  were  the 
 chief  gods  of  the  Swedes  and  Franks,  Thunder  (Th6rr)  of  the  Reams 
 and  Throwends  in  West  Norway. 
 
 As  a  good  example  of  the  form  in  which  the  legends  of  the  gods  have 
 come  down,  I  give  here  an  exact  translation  of  one  of  the  most  famous  of 
 the  Eddie  lays,  dating  probably  from  the  ninth  century.  It  is  entitled 
 "  The  Story  of  Thrym,"  and  runs  thus  :  — 
 
 Wroth  was  Wing-Tlior  when  he  wakened, 
 
 And  missed  that  mighty  hammer  of  his ; 
 
 He  began  to  shai<e  his  beard,  he  began  to  toss  his  locks.* 
 
 'liie  Son  of  Earth  was  groping  aljout  him  ; 
 
 And  this  was  the  foremost  word  that  he  spoke — 
 
 "  Hearken  now,   Loke,   to  what  I  am  telling  thee,- 
 
 A  thing  never  heard  of  on  earth  afore  time 
 
 Or  in  heaven  above.     The  god's  hammer  ^  is  stolen  ■!  "^ 
 
 They  walked  to  the  town  of  Freya  the  fair, 
 
 And  this  was  the  foremost  word  that  he  spoke — 
 
 "Thy  feather-fell  wilt  thou  lend  me,   Freya, 
 
 That  I  may  be  able  my  hammer  to  find  ?  " 
 
 Then  spake  Freya  :  "  Vea,    I   would  give  it  thee  though  it  were  golden, 
 
 And  grant  it  to  thee  althougb.it' \v«re  silver." 
 
 Then  away  fled  Loke,  the  feather-fell  rattled 
 Till  he  won  out  of  the  town  of  the  gods, 
 
 '  Thor  has  long  red  beard  and  locks,  with  a  dark  scar  between  his  brows. 
 
 ^  Loke  is  a  cunning  mischievous  god.  It  is  his  fault  that  the  hammer  got  into 
 Thrym's  keeping. 
 
 ^  The  hammer  is  of  stone  or  bronze,,  short-hafted.  It  was  made  for  Thor  by  the 
 dwarves. 
 
282  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 And  lill  he  won  into  ihe  land  of  llie  Ettins  [giants]. 
 Thrym,   the  giants'  king,   on  a  grave-muund  was  silting, 
 I'laiting  the  leashes  of  gold  for  his  greyhound  ; 
 Trimming  the  manes  of  his  horses  so  even. 
 
 Spake  Thrym:  "How  goes  it  with  the  gods?    How  goes  it  with  the  Elves? 
 
 Why  art  thou  come  alone  to  the  land  of  the  Ettins  ? " 
 
 Jxikespake:  "  It  goes  ill  with  the  gods  !     It  goes  ill  with  the  Elves! 
 
 Hast  thou  hidden  the  Charioteer's  hammer?" 
 
 Thrym  spake:  "I  have  hidden  the  Charioteer's  hammer 
 
 Eight  leagues  deep  beneath  the  earth. 
 
 No  man  shall  ever  get  it  again. 
 
 Save  he  fetch  me  Freya  to  wife." 
 
 Then  aw.ay  fled  Loke,  the  feather-fell  rattled 
 
 Tdl  he  won  out  of  the  land  of  the  Ettins, 
 
 'Jill  he  won  into  the  town  of  the  gods. 
 
 Tiiere  met  him   Thor,  in  the  midst  of  the  gate, 
 
 And  this  was  the  foremost  word  that  he  spake  :  — 
 
 "Hast  thou  tidings  for  thy  errand? 
 
 Tell  me  all  thy  tidings  aloft  as  thou  fliest ! 
 
 For  he  that  speaks  sitting  oft  stumbles  in  speech, 
 
 And  he  that  speaks  lying  down  oft  tricks  men  with  lies." 
 
 J.oke  spake :  "  I   have  tidings  for  my  errand. 
 
 Thi^m  hath   thine  hammer — the  king  of  the  giants. 
 
 No  man  shall  ever  get  it  again 
 
 Save  he  fetch  him  Freya  to  wife." 
 
 They  walked  to  the  town  of  Fieya  the  fair, 
 
 And  this  was  the  foremost  word  that  he  spake  : — 
 
 "Wrap  thee,  Freya,  in  the  bride's  veil; 
 
 We  two  must  drive'  to  the  land  of  the  Ettins." 
 
 Wroth  grew  Freya  then,   and  snorted  with  rage, 
 
 The  hall  of  the  gods  all  trembled  beneath, 
 
 The  Ikisings'  great  necklace^  snapped  asunder. 
 
 Freya  spake:  "Sure  I  should  seem  man-maddest  of  women, 
 
 If  1  drove  with  thee  to  the  land  of  the  Ettins  !  " 
 
 Then  all  the  gods  held  a  moot  together, 
 
 And  all  the  goddesses  a  parley ; 
 
 'i'he  mighty  gods  took   council  together 
 
 How  tliey  might  win  back  the  Charioteer's  hammer. 
 
 'J'hen  si)ake  Hamdal,   the  whitest  of  gods,' 
 
 Great  foresight  had  he,  as  all  the  Wanes  have  :  — 
 
 "Let  us  wrap  Thor  in  the  bride's  veil  ! 
 
 Let  him  have  the  Brisings'  great  necklace  ! 
 
 Let  the  bunch  of  keys  rattle  at  his  girdle. 
 
 And  a  woman's  coat  fall  about  his  knees  ! 
 
 Let  us  fasten  the  broad -stones'*  on  his  breast, 
 
 And  wind  the  hood  deftly  about  his  head  !  " 
 
 Then  up  spake  Thor  the  doughty  god  : — 
 
 "  Lewd  fellow,  surely,  the  gods  will  call  me, 
 
 If  I  let  myself  be  wrajiped  in  a  bride's  veil  ! " 
 
 Then  up  spake  Loke  Laufcy's  son  : — 
 
 "  Sparc  such  speaking,  Thor  ! 
 
 Soon  shall  the  Ettins  be  dwelling  in   Godboro', 
 
 Save  thou  canst  win  thine  hammer  back  !  " 
 
 *  The  driving  in  a  car  was  a  necessary  part  of  the  wedding  ceremony. 
 
 *  The  lirising's  necklace  was  a  dwarf-made  magic  necklace  that,  like  Eriphyle's  neck- 
 lace, was  a  curse  to  any  mortal  that  owned  it,  and  like  the  ccstiis  that  Hera  borrowed, 
 a  love-chain  when  the  goddess  wore  it. 
 
 *  Hamdal,  the  ancestor  of  men,  the  bringer  of  culture  from  the  underworld,  warder 
 of  the  gods,  a  huge  white  ram-headed  deity  with  gold  teeth,  he  sits  over  the  rainbow- 
 snake.     He  belonged  to  a  set  of  the  go<U  called  NN'ancs,  as  did  Niord  and  Frey. 
 
 *  These  arc  the  two  ornamented  brooches  of  oval  shape  worn  by  ladies  on  the  breast. 
 
TEUTONIC  HEATHENDOM.  283 
 
 Then  they  wrapped  about  Thor  the  bride's  veil, 
 And  put  on  him  the  Brisings'  great  necklace. 
 They  let  the  bunch  of  keys  rattle  at  his  girdle, 
 And  a  woman's  coat  fall  about  his  knees. 
 They  fastened  the  broad-stones  on  his  breast. 
 And   wound  the  hood  deftly  about  his  head. 
 Then  up  spake  Loke  Laufey's  son  : — 
 "  I  will  go  with  thee  as  thine  handmaid  ; 
 We  two  will  drive  to  Giant-land  ! " 
 Then  the  goats  were  driven  home,' 
 Harnessed  to  the  couplings.      Off  they  ran  ! 
 The  rocks  were  rent,   blazed  earth  in  flame, 
 As  Woden's  son  drove  to  Giant-land  ! 
 
 Then  spake  Thrym,   the  king  of  the  giants  : — 
 "  Stand  up,   Eltins,   and  strew  the  benches. 
 Now  they  are  bringing  me  Freya  to  wife — 
 Niaord's  daughter  of  Noafown  ! 
 There,  walk  here  in  the  yard,  good  homed  kine. 
 Oxen  all  black  for  the  joy  of  the  giants'  lord. 
 Treasures  a  many  I  have,  jewels  many  have  I, 
 I  lack  nought  but  Freya  alone." 
 
 The  bench  was  set  for  the  women  that  evening. 
 
 And  ale  borne  round  in  the  house  to  the  Ettins. 
 
 An  ox  whole,   eight  salmon, 
 
 All  the  dainties  cooked  for  the  women, 
 
 Sif's  husband  [Thor]  ate,  and  drank  three  vats  of  mead. 
 
 Then  spake  Thrym,  king  of  the  giants: 
 
 "  Was  ever  bride  so  sharply  set? 
 
 Did  ever  bride  take  bigger  mouthfuls  ? 
 
 Did  ever  maid  of  mead  drink  deeper?" 
 
 The  hand-maid,  all- wise  one,  sat  by  the  couple. 
 
 And  found  answer  to  the  Ettin's  speecli. 
 
 "Freya  hath  not  eaten  for  eight  nights. 
 
 So  eager  was  she  for  the  land  of  the  Ettins  !  " 
 
 He   bowed  under  the  veil,  he  longed  to  kiss  her, 
 
 ]>ut  lie  sprang  back  the  whole  hall's  length  — 
 
 "  Why  are  Freya's  eyes  so  awful. 
 
 It  seems  as  if  fire  were  flaming  from  her  eyes  ?  " 
 
 The  hand-maid,  all-wise  one,  sat  by  the  couple. 
 
 She  found  an  answer  to  the  Ettins'  speech. 
 
 "  Freya  hath  not  slept  for  eight  nights, 
 
 So  eager  was  she  for  the  land  of  the  Ettins  I  " 
 
 In  came  the  Ettins'  aged  sister. 
 She  boldly  begged  for  a  bridal  fee. 
 "  Take  the  red  rings  off  thine  arms. 
 If  thou  art  minded  to  win  my  love — 
 My  love  and  my  good-will  withal  ! " 
 Then  spake  Thrym,  king  of  the  giants  : 
 "Bring  up  the  hammer  to  hallow  the  bride  ! 
 Lay  the  Miller*  on  the  maiden's  knee  ! 
 Hallow  us  twain  together  by  wedlock's  hand  ! " 
 The  Charioteer's  heart  laughed  in  his  breast 
 When  he  felt  the  hard  hammer  in  his  hands. 
 First  he  slew  Thiyni,   the  king  of  the  giants, 
 And  battered  the  whole  breed  of  Ettins  ; 
 He  slew  the  Ettins'  aged  sister  ; 
 She  got  a  pound  instead  of  pence. 
 And  hammer  strokes  instead  of  rings. 
 
 This  is  how  Woden's  son  won  back  his  hammer. 
 
 •  The  goats  are  Thor's  team,  that  draw  his  thunder-car. 
 -  Miller,  the  name  of  the  hammer. 
 
284  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 There  is  a  rough  naive  hurnour  in  this  ballad-like  poem  that  reflects  the 
 tone  of  the  primitive  stages  of  society  in  which  such  legends  sprung  up. 
 Thor  was  specially  the  god  of  the  fisher-farmer  and  farmer-fishers  of  the 
 west  coast  of  Norway,  whence  came  the  bulk  of  the  emigrants  that  peopled 
 great  part  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  and-  the  whole  coasts  of  Iceland, 
 the  Faroes,  and  West  Greenland. 
 
 All  fiahaal  p/ienomena  were  ascribed  to  the  agency  of  the  gods  or 
 demons ;  storm  and  bad  weather  were  wrought  by  spirits  ;  frost  and  cold 
 were  the  work  of  giants  and  much  to  be  feared.  Thunder  was  looked 
 upon  as  a  beneficent  god — killing  demons,  bringing  back  tlie  sunlight  and 
 fructifying  rain.  Pearls  and  amber  were  the  tears  of  goddesses.^  The 
 peculiar  shapes  and  colours  of  birds  and  beasts  were  accounted  for  by 
 curious  and  ingenious  stories,  precisely  as  in  the  African  Anansi-tales. 
 
 'i'hese  beliefs  were  childish;  but  such  explanations  were  the  beginnings 
 of  science.  They  only  differ  from  many  of  our  hypotheses  in  their  greater 
 ambition  and  simplicity.  We  are  content  nowadays  to  try  and  make  out 
 the  hoic,  without  seeking  to  explain  the  why. 
 
 As  to  ritual,  animal  and  human  sacrifices  were  offered.  Instances  are 
 recorded  of  the  sacrifice  of  kings  for  good  seasons,  and  of  launches  of  war- 
 ships sanctified  by  human  blood  (as  in  New  Zealand  of  old).  Never- 
 theless, human  sacrifices  seem  to  have  been  always  regarded  with  a  kind 
 of  horror  and  awe.  A  great  temple  was  at  once  treasury,  storehouse, 
 and  meeting-place.  Once  or  twice  a  year  there  were  great  sacrifices  of 
 cattle,  persons  were  sprinkled  with  the  blood,  auguries  were  taken  with 
 hallowed  apple-twigs,  and  afterwards  the  sacrificed  beasts  formed  the 
 material  for  feasts.  They  had  village  feasts,  holiday  feasts,  Easter  feasts 
 welcoming  the  summer,  midsummer  and  Christmas  feasts. 
 
 The  Teutons — difi"ering  in  this  from  the  Western  Pra3-Celtic  peoples,  and 
 those  Celts  who  had  adopted  their  customs  and  beliefs — do  not  seem  to 
 have  had  a  regular  priesthood,  though  special  persons  were,  by  hereditary 
 right,  charged  with  the  service  of  certain  shrines.  Some  shrines  were 
 carried  about  at  certain  seasons  through  the  land. 
 
 The  greatest  fanes  we  know  of  were  situated  at  the  headquarters  of  the 
 great  tribes  or  tribal  leagues  ;  thus  at  Upsala,  the  High-Hall  in  Sweden, 
 the  cult  of  Yngwe-Frey  long  flourished;  at  his  grave-mound  were  a  temple, 
 a  treasury,  and  a  sacrificial  place,  and  an  oracle  where  folks  sought,  by 
 various  kinds  of  divination,  to  gain  from  the  god  a  morsel  of  his  prescience. 
 
 "  Now  we  will  speak  a  little  of  the  superstition  of  the  Swedes.  That  folk 
 have  a  very  noble  temple,,  which  is  called  Ubsola,  placed  not  far  from  the 
 city  Sictona  [Sigtan].  Near  this  temple  is  a  very  great  tree,  stretching 
 wide  its  branches,  ever-green  summer  and  winter ;  of  what  kind  it  is  no 
 
 '  It  is  probable  from  a  curious  story  in  the  A'alevala,  that  the  nodules  of  white  flint  in 
 the  wiiite  chalk  were  looked  on  hy  the  Fins  as  the  clotted,  hardened  milk  of  some 
 spiritual  heintj,  and  thai  this  belief  was  afterwards  used  to  explain  the  origin  of  the  later- 
 known  mctalb. 
 
TEUTONIC  HEATHENDOyT.  285 
 
 man  knovvelh.  There  also  is  a  spring,  where  sacrifices  of  the  heathen  are 
 wont  to  be  made,  and  a  hve  man  drowned.  ...  In  this  temple,  which  is  all 
 adorned  with  gold  (for  a  golden  chain  goeth  about  the  temple  hanging  over 
 the  top  of  the  house,  and  shineth  from  afar  upon  those  that  come  thither, 
 for  this  same  fane  standelh  in  a  plain,  and  hath  hills  standing  about  it  after 
 the  manner  of  a  theatre),  the  people  worshippeth  the  likenesses  of  their 
 gods,  whereof  the  mightiest,  Thor,  hath  his  station  in  the  midst  of  the  hall, 
 and  VVodan  and  Fricco  have  places  on  either  side,  the  significance  of  which 
 is  after  this  manner  :  '  Thor,'  say  they,  *  ruleth  in  the  air,  and  governeth 
 thunder  and  lightning,  wind  and  showers,  clear  weather  and  good  crops. 
 The  second,  Wodan  (that  is.  Madness),  wageth  wars,  and  giveth  man 
 strength  of  heart  against  his  enemy.  The  third  is  Fricco,  that  bestoweth 
 peace  and  pleasure  upon  men,  whose  similitude  they  make  with  the  emblem 
 of  generation.  But  Wodan  they  carve  as  an  armed  man,  as  we  do  Mars, 
 but  Thor  is  made  to  appear  with  the  sceptre  of  Jove.  They  also  worship 
 gods  made  out  of  men,  whom  they  endow  with  immortality  by  reason  of 
 their  mighty  deeds,  as  in  the  life  of  St.  Anscar  we  read  that  they  did  with 
 King  Heric  [a  famous  Swedish  king  deified  after  his  death].  And  all 
 these  gods  have  their  special  priests,  who  offer  the  sacrifices  of  the  people. 
 If  plague  or  famine  be  at  hand,  otTering  is  made  to  Thor  ;  if  war,  to  Wodan  ; 
 if  wedding  is  to  be  kept,  to  Fricco.  Moreover,  after  nine  years'  span,  a 
 common  feast  of  all  the  provinces  of  Sweden  is  held  at  Ubsola,  from  which 
 feast  none  may  be  excused  ;  kings  and  people,  all  and  singular,  send  gifts 
 to  Ubsola,  and  what  is  crueller  than  all,  they  that  have  already  put  on 
 Christendom  must  redeem  themselves  from  those  ceremonies.  Now  the 
 sacrifice  is  on  this  wise.  Froni  all  living  beings,  that  are  males,  nine  heads 
 are  ofTtered,  by  whose  blood  it  is  the  custom  that  the  gods  be  propitiated ; 
 their  bodies  are  hung  in  the  grove  which  is  next  the  temple.  This  same 
 grove  is  so  holy  to  the  heathen  that  every  tree  in  it  is  held  divine,  by 
 reason  of  the  death  or  blood  of  those  offered.  There  also  hounds  and 
 horses  hang  with  men,  whose  bodies,  hung  together,  a  certain  Christian  told 
 me  that  he  had  seen.  For  nine  days  common  feasts  and  sacrifices  of  this 
 kind  are  held  ;  every  day  they  offer  one  man,  and  one  of  each  different  kind 
 of  beast  with  him  (so  that  in  nine  days  seventy-two  beasts  are  offered).  This 
 sacrifice  takes  place  about  the  spring  equinox.  But  the  follies  which  are 
 wont  to  be  used  in  this  rite  of  sacrifice  are  many  and  foul,  so  that  it  is 
 better  they  be  not  told.'  "  So  speaks  Adam  of  Bremen  (iv.  26-28)  about  the 
 greatest  of  heathen  Teutonic  temples,  a  sacred  spot  for  centuries,  the  Tara 
 of  Sweden. 
 
 In  England  the  word  Harrow  marks  a  heathen  "high  place."  There 
 was  always  a  temple  at  the  place  where  the  High  Court  of  Parliament 
 or  Folk-moot  of  a  tribe  was  held,  and  the  court  field  was  hallowed,  and 
 order  kept  there  by  the  hereditary  priests  of  the  place  (chaplains  of  these 
 earliest  Houses  of  Lords  and  Commons). 
 
 Heligoland,  that  tiny  North  Sea  island,  lately  much  in  folk's  minds,  but 
 
286  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 long  famous  only  as  a  station  for  "  bird-men,"  and  a  watering-place  for 
 north-west  Germany,  was  once  a  famous  fane  and  sanctuary.  Adam  of 
 Bremen  (iv.  3)  speaks  of  it  thus  :  "  Now  the  archbishop  [Adalbert]  ordained 
 from  among  his  clerks,  to  Sleswick,  Ratolf;  to  Seland,  William  ;  to  Funen, 
 Egilbert,  who,  they  say,  flying  from  pirates,  first  lit  upon  the  island  Farria, 
 which  lies  out  in  the  Ocean  some  way  off  from  the  mouth  of  the  Elbe,  and 
 built  a  monastery  there,  and  made  it  to  be  dwelt  in.  This  island  lies  over 
 against  Hadeley.  It  is  about  three  days'  row  from  England,  and  it  is  near 
 the  land  of  the  Frisians,  or  our  Wirrahe,  so  that  it  can  be  seen  lying  on 
 the  sea.  Its  length  stretches  barely  eight  miles,  its  breadth  four ;  men  use 
 straw  and  morsels  of  ships  for  fire.  The  story  is,  that  if  pirates  take  any 
 l)rey  thence,  even  the  very  least,  they  either  perish  by  shipwreck  or  are 
 slain  by  some  one,  for  none  can  get  home  unpunished.  Wherefore  they 
 are  wont  to  offer  to  the  hermits  living  there  a  tithe  of  their  plunder  with 
 great  devoutness.  Moreover,  this  island  is  most  fertile  in  crops,  most  rich 
 in  birds,  and  a  foster-mother  of  flocks ;  it  has  only  one  hill,  no  tree  ;  it 
 is  shut  in  by  very  rugged  cliffs,  with  no  entrance  but  one,  where  is  also  a 
 spr'ng  of  sweet  water,  a  place  to  be  honoured  by  all  seamen,  but  especially 
 by  pirates,  whereby  it  took  its  name,  and  was  called  Holy  Land.  In  the 
 life  of  St.  Willebrord  we  learn  that  it  used  to  be  called  Foseti's  land.  In  the 
 life  of  St.  Liudger  it  is  told  that  a  certain  man  named  Landricus  was  bap- 
 tized there  by  the  bishop  in  the  days  of  Charles  [the  Great]."  In  the 
 temples  and  holy  places  no  weapon  could  be  worn,  no  unhallowed  act 
 I^erformed,  under  penalty  of  the  god's  high  displeasure,  as  we  learn  from 
 Bede's  story  of  the  converted  heathen  priest,  Coifi  (Coibhe),^  who,  mounted 
 on  a  horse,  and  fully  armed,  rode  into  the  sacred  temple-enclosure,  and 
 hurled  his  spear,  in  defiance  of  the  god  to  which  the  temple  belonged,  at 
 Godmundingham,  hard  by  York. 
 
 With  regard  to  deatli  and  \.\\q  future  life,  there  were  two  pretty  distinct 
 sets  of  ideas.  The  older  seems  to  have  been,  that  at  death  man's  spirit 
 dwelt  in  the  grave  where  his  body  lay.  These  barrows — tumuli — were  the 
 resting-places  of  the  dead  who  inhabited  them,  just  as  the  living  inhabit 
 houses.  With  the  deceased  were  always  buried  those  things  which  it  was 
 thought  would  be  useful  to  him  in  his  spirit  life. 
 
 No  one  was  supposed  to  die  naturally;  it  was  always  some  being,  such 
 as  Weird  or  Fate,  or  the  War-goddess,  or  the  Fever-spirit,  or  some  spirit 
 sent  by  witchcraft,  which  destroyed  a  man  ;  and  then  Death,  a  kind  of 
 psychopomp  (like  Hermeias  in  ancient  Hellas,  or  Charon  in  modern 
 Cireece),  led  his  spirit  away. 
 
 Again,  there  was  among  the  old  English  a  belief  that  at  death  man  took 
 a  long  journey,  and  plunged  into  a  great  abyss,  where  dwelt  a  black  god- 
 dess, from  whom  the  name  of  Hell  in  other  religious  systems  is  obtained. 
 If  the  departed  were  clever  enough  to  elude  the  demons  there,  they  passed 
 (m  into  a  happier  sphere.  This  is,  in  some  of  its  later  forms,  a  kind  of 
 '  A  Briton  (like  Cadmon)  by  name,  Init  a  juicst  uf  Teutonic  gods. 
 
TEUTONIC   HEATHENDO.U.  287 
 
 heathen  reflex  of  the  Christian  idea,  but  in  its  earlier  forms  it  resembles 
 certain  Polynesian  beliefs. 
 
 Some  of  the  Teutons  seem  (in  the  eighth  century,  at  least)  to  have 
 believed  in  the  transmigration  of  souls,  in  a  dead  hero  being  born  again  in 
 his  descendant.  Hence,  when  Hakon  the  Good— our  Athelstane's  foster- 
 son — came  back  to  Norway,  men  said:  "It  is  Harold  Fairhair  come 
 again  !  "  And  the  soul  of  Helge  the  Good  was— according  to  a  fine  tenth- 
 century  poem — twice  re-incarnated  in  heroes  named  Helge. 
 
 As  to  punishn)ent  after  death,  as  early  as  the  eighth  century,  there  was 
 a  widespread  belief  that  the  worst  evildoers,  such  as  perjurers,  murderers, 
 persons  of  foul  life,  and  traitors,  would  meet  a  fit  recompense  in  the  next 
 world ;  and  Christians  in  England,  Germany,  Scandinavia,  and  France, 
 •throughout  the  Middle  Ages,  had  their  ideas  of  the  last  judgment  and  the 
 next  world  deeply  coloured  by  these  old  heathen  beliefs.  But,  till  the 
 infiltration  of  Christian  ideas,  in  the  ninth  century,  they  had  not  arrived 
 at  any  idea  of  a  great  day  of  doom. 
 
 The  elaborate  Walhalla  pantheon  found  in  the  later  Edda  was  put 
 together  by  Christian  scholars,  from  different  and  diverging  sources,  after 
 the  heathen  days ;  and  the  eschatology,  with  its  Ragnarok,  is  largely  drawn 
 from  one  poem,  the  Volu-spd,  or  Sybil's  Prophecy,  which  bears  evident 
 traces  of  Cliristian  influence. 
 
 One  of  the  most  important  of  their  religious  institutions,  but  one  which 
 we  can  only  reconstruct  by  piecing  together  bits  of  scattered  fact,  was  the 
 clan  or  totem  system,  an  institution  very  widespread  and  very  important  in 
 the  early  history  of  many  races,  both  of  the  Old  and  New  Worlds.  The 
 pattern  of  nomenclature  among  the  Teutons  seems  to  point  to  the  system 
 being  in  full  vigour  down  to  pretty  recent  times.  But  it  fell  rapidly  before 
 the  economic  and  social  changes  brought  about  by  an  altered  mode  of 
 life,  and  by  the  change  of  thought  consequent  upon  contact  with  Chris- 
 tianity. The  members  of  a  clan  probably  could  not  intermarry ;  they 
 traced  descent  originally  through  the  mother  ;  they  bore  the  name  of  their 
 totcni^  or  ancestor,  as  part  of  their  own  name  ;  and,  no  doubt,  they  had 
 certain  common  legal  rights,  and  performed  certain  religious  rites  in  com- 
 mon. The  eagle,  the  wolf,  the  bear,  the  horse,  the  war-goddess,  the  chief 
 god  of  the  tribe  under  many  epithets,  the  rock,  the  spear,  the  blade,  the 
 helm,  the  mail-coat,  the  home-land,  the  day,  the  sun,  the  shrine,  are  the 
 chief  totems  used  by  the  early  Teutons.  The  Aethelings,  who  ruled  South 
 Britain  in  the  ninth  and  tenth  centuries,  the  Gothic  Amalings  and  Bal- 
 things,  the  Choruscan  Sigelings,  are  examples  of  famous  royal  clans. 
 
 Witchcraft,  of  a  type  resembling  that  of  the  Obi  or  Voodoo  black-magic 
 cult,  was  met  with  among  the  early  Teutons,  and  was  to  them,  even  as 
 heathens,  a  thing  hateful  and  horrible,  loathsome  to  gods  and  men ;  though 
 seers,  and  weather-prophets,  soothsayers  and  men  of  second  sight,  augurs 
 and  dream-readers,  were  reverenced  and  treated  as  specially  favoured  by 
 the  gods,  who  had  given  them  part  of  their  own  divine  knowledge ;  and 
 
2S8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 white  mj£^'c  was  oftea  appealed  to  to  frustrate  the  wicked  assaults  of 
 witches  and  wizards. 
 
 Turning  from  ritual  and  the  creed  of  Teutonic  heathendom  to  its  ethical 
 system  an  immense  superiority  is  manifest.  There  were  no  "  Ten  Com- 
 mandments,'' but  good  manners  and  morals  were  taught  in  songs,  and  given 
 to  the  young  in  the  form  of  story.  One  old  poetic  Dialogue  between 
 Father  and  Son  contains  many  precepts — as,  how  to  behave  as  a  guest,  as 
 a  friend,  and  as  a  householder,  and  much  wisdom  in  the  form  of  proverbs. 
 The  first  virtue  is  bravery,  the  next  is  manliness.  Uprightness  of  life, 
 cleanness  of  living,  were  enforced.  Sincerity  and  generosity  were  directed. 
 Silence  was  a  virtue.  Reverence  was  much  enjoined,  and,  indeed,  no 
 people  can  advance  far  without  a  high  regard  being  paid  to  this  virtue. 
 Reverence  was  paid,  not  so  much  to  the  gods  as  to  those  things  that  were 
 worthy  of  respect — to  family  life,  the  political  organization,  to  the  king, 
 to  the  aged,  to  women  and  children.  There  was  also  a  high  ideal  of  duty 
 to  kindred,  lord,  and  comrade,  and  among  the  free  classes  a  high  standard 
 of  self-respect.  History  and  geography  and  statecraft  were  taught  by  the 
 heroic  lavs,  which  recorded  the  deeds  and  deaths  of  great  kings  and  cham- 
 pions of  old.  Thus  songs  about  Altila  were  made  in  Greenland  in  the  nth 
 century,  600  years  after  him. 
 
 Alongside  of  such  excellent  principles  as  the  old  poems  teach  and  testify 
 to,  there  were  great  shortcomings — harshness,  deceit,  and  cruelty  towards 
 all  who  were  not  kinsfolk  or  friends  (for  only  these  were  considered  as 
 within  the  ethical  circle ;  all  the  rest  of  the  world  was  outside  with  the 
 animals)  ;  pride  and  self-complacency,  false  ideas  of  honour,  weakness  in 
 face  of  superstitious  fears,  though  we  find  noble  examples  in  which,  out 
 of  their  own  truth  and  sweetness  of  nature,  men  refused  and  scorned  sins 
 which  those  around  them  commended  and  committed. 
 
 With  such  good  ethical  principles,  and  such  poor  creed  and  ritual,  it 
 is  not  to  be  wondered  that  the  heathen  beliefs  and  faith  went  down  before 
 Christianity  without  any  compulsion  ;  and  that,  in  England  and  Scandinavia 
 at  least,  Christianity  was  accepted  willingly  and  readily  by  king  and 
 people. 
 
 There  were  many  gains  accruing  from  the  adoption  of  the  new  system. 
 First,  kindliness  was  enforced  as  a  duty  towards  slaves,  paupers,  and  persons 
 not  of  their  own  family.  Next,  there  was  greater  truthfulness  and  stricter 
 keeping  of  covenants,  which  rendered  higher  political  progress  possible. 
 Third,  the  importance  of  self-sacrifice  to  duty  was  more  decidedly  enjoined. 
 Fourth,  the  cruel  terrors  and  foul  superstitions  connected  with  witchcraft 
 were  put  away.  Fifth,  the  greater  simplicity  and  reasonableness  of  the 
 New  Faith  opened  the  way  to  further  advance  in  thought.  Last,  the  New 
 Faith  brought  its  Teutonic  votaries  into  touch  with  other  European  nations, 
 with  anterior  civilizations,  and  with  a  certain  amount  of  knowledge  won 
 from  nature  by  wise  men  in  the  past. 
 
 After  this  brief  and  necessarily  imperfect  sketch  of  a  great  subject — 
 
TEUTONIC  HEATHENDOM.  289 
 
 every  paragraph  in  which  might  be  illustrated  by  numerous  examples  and 
 instances,  and  sustained  by  lengthy  argument  and  copious  exposition — it 
 may  be  well  to  conclude  by  giving  a  faithful  and  plain  version  of  a  poem 
 composed  in  the  last  days  of  Teutonic  heathendom  by  a  warrior  and  fxjet, 
 named  Egil,  who  had  served  our  own  King  Athelstan,  had  wandered  over 
 many  northern  lands  and  seas,  and  settled  down  at  last,  after  all  his 
 chequered  career  abroad,  in  his  father's  house  in  the  new  colony  of  Ice- 
 land, looking  for  peace.  But  he  met  with  a  series  of  •  '  -  :nes  in  his 
 old  age;  and,  worst  of  all,  came  the  death  of  his  two  ..^..-i  and  best- 
 beloved  sons.  The  first,  Gunnere,  had  died  of  fever ;  the  second  was 
 drowned.  It  is  told  that  when  the  news  of  the  last  calamity  came  upon 
 him  that  Egil  rode  to  the  shore  to  seek  his  son's  body,  and  came  right 
 upon  it,  and  took  it  up  and  set  it  across  his  knees,  and  rode  with  it  to  the 
 grave  of  his  own  father.  Then  he  had  the  grave  opened,  and  laid  his  son 
 therein  by  the  side  of  his  grandfather.  And  the  grave  was  not  closed  ata'n 
 till  al>out  sunset.  Then  Egil  rode  straight  home  and  went  in  and  s; _:: 
 himself  up  in  his  own  room  and  lay  down.  There  he  lay,  speechless  and 
 neither  eating  nor  drinking  all  that  night  and  next  day,  and  no  one  dared 
 to  speak  to  him  or  reason  with  him.  But  on  the  third  morning  his  wife 
 sent  a  man  on  horseback  off  to  fetch  Thorberg,  his  favourite  daughter,  who 
 was  living  some  way  off  with  her  husband.  She  at  once  started  ^"  '"  vr 
 father's  house,  and  rode  all  the  evening  and  through  the  night 
 halting  till  she  reached  iL  Then  she  alighted,  and  went  into  the  halL 
 Her  mother  greeted  her  :  "  Have  ye  eaten  by  the  way?  "  Says  Thorberg  : 
 "  I  have  taken  neither  bit  nor  sup,  nor  will  I  till  I  sup  with  Woden's  wife 
 [the  goddess]  ;  I  will  follow  my  father  and  brother."  Then  she  went  to 
 her  father's  door  and  cried  :  "  Come,  father,  for  I  wish  us  both  to  go  the 
 same  way  !  "  And  Egil  opened  the  door  to  her,  saying  :  "  Thou  hast  done 
 well,  daughter,  to  wish  to  die  with  thy  father.  Is  it  likely  I  could  live 
 after  such  sorrow  ? "  But  Thorberg  did  this  that  she  might  by  some 
 stratagem  get  her  father  to  break  his  fast  and  live,  and  this  she  cunningly 
 brought  about,  and  then  said  :  "  Now  our  plan  of  starving  is  over,  and 
 perhaps  it  is  better,  for  I  should  like  us  to  live  a  little  longer,  father,  that 
 thou  mightest  make  a  dirge  over  thy  son.  For  there  is  no  one  else  that 
 could  do  so  fitly."  And  Egil  said  he  would  try  to  do  as  she  wished.  And 
 as  he  made  the  dirge  he  grew  better,  and  when  it  was  finished  he  rose  up 
 and  went  forth,  and  recited  it  to  his  wife  and  daughter  and  kinsfolk,  and 
 then  sat  down  in  his  seat  and  ate  and  drank  and  held  the  ftmeral  feast 
 over  his  son  in  heathen  fashion.  And  he  sent  his  daughter  home  again 
 with  costly  gifts  and  much  love.     And  this  is  the  dirge,  and  it  is  called 
 
 THE  SONS'  WRECK 
 
 It  is  hard  for  me  to  raise  my  tongue, 
 
 the  steel-yard  of  soand,  within  my  mouth  ; 
 
 Little  hope  have  I  of  winning  Wo'iin's  spoil  [poesy], 
 
 nor  is  it  lightly  drawn  from  the  hiding-places  of  mv  mind. 
 •  •  ♦  •  "  » 
 
 VOL.  I.  U 
 
290  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 The  heaviness  of  my  woe  is  the  cause  thereof. 
 
 •  *  *  * 
 
 For  my  race  hath  come  clown  to  the  stock 
 like  the  burnt  trunk  of  the  trees  in  the  forest  ! 
 No  hearty  man  is  he  that  must  bear  in  his  arms 
 the  corse  of  his  kinsman  from  his  house  ! 
 
 First  I  will  with  my  song-blade  [tongue] 
 hew  this  matter  out  in  the  hall  of  memories  [my  breast] : 
 Yea,  this  verse-timber,  leafed  with  speech, 
 shall  pass  out  of  the  word-fane  [my  mouth]. 
 
 Cruel  was  the  breach  the  billow  made 
 in  my  father's  fence  of  kinsmen  ! 
 I  can  see  it  standing  unfilled  and  unclosed 
 the  gap,  left  by  my  son,  which  the  Sea  caused  me  ! 
 
 Ran  [the  ocean-giantess]  hath  handled  me  very  roughly 
 I  am  utterly  reft  of  my  loving  friends  : 
 The  Sea  hath  cut  the  bonds  of  my  race, 
 its  hard-spun  strands  that  lay  about  me. 
 
 How  shall  I  take  up  my  cause  with  the  sword 
 against  the  Brewer  of  all  the  Gods  [the  Sea  God]? 
 How  shall  I  make  war  upon  the  awful  Maids  of  the  Storm  [billows] 
 or  fight  a  wager  of  battle  with  the  wife  of  Eager  [the  Sea  God]? 
 
 Moreover  I  know  that  I  am  not  strong  enough 
 to  cope  with  the  slayer  of  my  sons, 
 for  manifest  to  the  eyes  of  all  the  people 
 is  the  helplessness  of  me,  an  old  man  ! 
 
 The  Ocean  hath  spoiled  me  sorely  : 
 
 it  is  a  hard  thing  to  tell  over  the  slaughter  of  kinsfolk  ! 
 
 •  •  *  «  • 
 
 The  second  matter  of  my  song  shall  l)e 
 how  the  F'riend  of  the  Gauls  [Woden]  raised  up  to  Godliam 
 the  Sapling  of  my  race  [Gunnere],   that  sprung  from  me, 
 
 the  tendril  of  the  kin   of  my  wife. 
 
 •  *  ♦  • 
 
 Yea,  he  is  gone  to  be  a  guest  at  the  city  of  the  Hive  [Paradise] 
 
 «  ♦  •  •  • 
 
 I  know  very  well  that  in  my  son 
 was  the  making  of  a  goodly  gentleman  : 
 if  that  fruitful  branch  had  been  left  to  ripen 
 ere  the  Lord  of  Hosts  [Woden]  laid  hands  on  him. 
 
 He  ever  held  fast  to  his  father's  word 
 though  the  whole  congregation  spake  against  it  : 
 and  ujiheld  my  cause  at  Wal-rock  [the  Moot-hill] 
 and  was  the  greatest  stay  to  my  strength. 
 
 There  cometh  often  longing  into  my  mind 
 for  the  brotherhood  of  Arinbeorn  [the  best  friend  of  his  youth]  : 
 reft  of  my  friends,   vvlien  the  battle  is  waxing  high, 
 that  bold  baron,   1  think  on  him  ! 
 
 What  other  man  that  loves  me  well 
 will  stand  by  my  side  against  my  foes'  counsels? 
 
 I  often  lack  ihr  strons^  pinions  that  upheld  me. 
 I  go  with  tlrooping  flight  for  my  friends  are  dropping  away. 
 It  is  right  hard  to  find  a  man  to  trust 
 
 among  all  the  congregation  beneath  the  gallows  of  Woden  [the   World-tree]  j 
 
 «  •  •  «  >■ 
 
TEUTONIC  HEATHENDOM.  291 
 
 It  is  a  proverb  thai  no  man  c  in  get 
 full   recompense  for  his  07vn  son  ; 
 nor  can  one  Ijorn  of  another  kin 
 
 stand  to  a  man  in  the  place  of  a  brother. 
 
 *  *  #  »  • 
 
 I  was  friendly  with  the  King  of  Spears  [Woden] 
 and  I  ])ut  my  trust  in  him  believing  in  his  plighted  peace  : 
 till  he  broke,   the   Lord  of  the  Wain, 
 the  Judge  of  Victory,  his  friendship  with  me: 
 
 Wherefore  I  do  not  worsliip  the  brother  of  Wile  [Woden]! 
 the   Prince  of  the  (Jods,   nor  look  yearningly  upon  him: 
 yet  the  Kriend  of  Mini  [Woden]  hath  bestowed  upon  me 
 recompense  for  my  wrongs,  if  I  am  to  count  up  his  better  deeds  to  me. 
 
 The  war-wont  P"oe  of  the  Wolf  [Woden] 
 hath  given  me  the  blameless  art  : 
 yea,  the  poet's  song,   by  which  I  may  turn 
 open  foes  into  well-wishers. 
 
 Now  the  Wreck  of  my  Two  Sons  is  sung  to  the  end,- 
 Night  staiideth  near  at  hand  : 
 but   I  gladly  and  with  a  good   will 
 and  without  dread  await  I3eath  ! 
 
 This  poem,  badly  preserved  in  a  corrupt  and  incomplete  text,  necessarily 
 loses  in  translation  much  of  its  character,  its  metrical  harmony,  its  fine 
 concise  rhythm,  its  powerful  flow ;  but  I  do  not  think  I  could  have  chosen 
 a  more  typical  or  nobler  utterance  of  old  Teutonic  heatliendom  than  these 
 lines,  instinct  with  deep  grief  and  wrath,  but  all-inspired  with  a  courage 
 which  never  let  the  man  sink  to  despair  or  mockery,  but  enabled  him  to 
 beat  out  in  the  very  furnace  of  affliction  a  poem  which  for  beauty  and 
 strength  is  as  wrought  Damascus  steel. 
 
 Human  nature  is  everywhere  much  the  same.  Grief  touches  the  same 
 chords  in  us  as  it  did  in  our  heathen  forefathers,  and  as  it  did  long  ago 
 in  those  better  -  remembered  heroes  whose  sorrow  is  enshrined  in  the 
 Homeric  Laments  over  Patroclus  and  Hector,  or  that  Song  of  the  Bow 
 which  David  taught  his  people.  Their  primitive  faith,  clumsy  and  childish 
 as  it  was,  yet  represented  the  higher  instincts  of  their  nature,  their  feeling 
 for  their  fellows,  and  the  awe  that  was  upon  them  by  reason  of  the  un- 
 known forces  that  compassed  them  about :  our  faith  can  do  no  more  for  us. 
 
 It  is  not  in  a  man's  creed,  but  in  his  deeds ;  not  in  his  knowledge,  but  in 
 his  wisdom  ;  not  in  his  power,  but  in  his  sympathy,  that  there  lies  the 
 essence  of  what  is  good  and  of  what  will  last  in  human  life. 
 
 [NOTE  — It  is  beside  my  purpose  here  tonote  the  affinities  of  Teutonic  Heathenism. 
 The  mythology-  is  largely  of  the  general  Aryan  type.  There  are-  many  close  parallels  to 
 the  Celtic  mythology  in  particular,  and  apparently  also  to  Slavonic  heathendom.  This 
 w.as  of  course'  to  be  expected.  I  do  not  believe  that  there  are  any  traces  of  borrowings 
 from  the  classic  Latin  or  Greek  mythology  in  extant  old  Teutonic  myths  ;  though  it  is 
 not  impossible  that  older  Oriental  mythologies  may  have  affected  all  these  systems.  It 
 must  be  remembered  that  among  the  fairy  tales  of  modern  Teutonic  nations  are  many 
 which  do  not  go  back  to  the  heathen  days,  but  are  drawn  Uom  foreign  sources  during  or 
 since  the  middle  ages.] 
 
MUHAMMADANISM. 
 
 By  G.  W.  Leitner,  LL.D.,  M.A.,  Ph.D.,  D.O.L.,  etc. 
 
 My  special  knowledge  of  Muhammadanism  began  in  a  mosque-school  at 
 Constantinople  in  1854,  where  I  learnt  considerable  portions  of  the  Koran 
 by  heart.  I  have  associated  with  Muhammadans  of  different  sects  in 
 Turkey,  India,  and  elsewhere,  and  have  studied  Arabic,  the  language  in 
 which  their  sacred  literature  is  written.  I  may  at  once  point  out  that 
 without  a  knowledge  of  Arabic  it  is  impossible  to  exercise  any  influence 
 on  the  Muhammadan  mind  ;  but  I  would  add  that  there  is  something 
 better  than  mere  knowledge,  and  that  is  sympathy  :  sympathy  is  tlie  key 
 to  the  meaning  of  knowledge — that  which  breathes  life  into  what  otherwise 
 would  be  dead  bones. 
 
 There  are  instances  of  eminent  scholars  who,  for  want  of  sympathy, 
 have  greatly  misjudged  Muhammadanism.  Sir  William  Muir,  e.g.,  has 
 been  led  into  very  serious  mistakes  in  dealing  with  this  religion. 
 
 Let  us  hope  that  the  present  occasion  may  help,  in  however  humble  a 
 degree,  to  cement  that  "  fellow-feeling  "  which  ought  to  exist  between  all 
 religions. 
 
 "  In  proportion  as  we  love  truth  more  and  victory  less,"  says  Herbert 
 Spencer,  "  we  shall  become  anxious  to  know  what  it  is  which  leads  our 
 opponents  to  think  as  they  do." 
 
 More  profound  is  the  Tibetan  Buddhist  Lama's  vow  never  to  think, 
 much  less  to  say,  that  his  own  religion  is  better  than  that  of  others.  Tiie 
 edicts  of  Asoka,  carved  on  rocks,  and  more  than  monumental  brass,  also 
 recommend  his  subjects  to  praise  the  faith  of  others. 
 
 As  regards  the  great  religion  with  which  we  are  dealing  to-day,  I  have 
 adopted  the  term  "  Muhammadanism  "  in  order  to  limit  this  address  to 
 the  creed  as  now  professed  by  Muhammadans.  If  I  had  used  the  better 
 heading  "  Islam,"  which  means  the  creed  of  "  resignation  to  the  Divine 
 will,"  a  more  extensive  treatment  would  have  been  necessary  than  can  be 
 afforded  in  the  course  of  an  hour. 
 
 Muhammadanism  is  not  the  religion  of  the  Prophet  Muhammad, 
 because  he  only  ]jrofessed  to  preach  the  religion  of  his  predecessors,  the 
 Jews  and  the  Christians  ;  both  these  faiths  being  in  the  faith  of  "  Islam," 
 of  which  ihe  form  preached  by  Muhammad  is  the  perfection  and  seal. 
 
 "To  walk  with  (Jod,"  to  have  God  with  us  in  our  daily  life  with  the 
 object  of  obtaining  the  "  peace  that  passeth  all  understanding,"  "  to  sub- 
 
MUHAMMADANISM.  293 
 
 mit  to  the  Divine  will" — this  we  too  profess  to  seek;  but  in  Muhammad- 
 anism  this  profession  is  translated  into  practice,  and  is  the  corner-stone 
 of  the  edifice  of  that  faith. 
 
 In  one  sense  Muhamaiadanism  is  like,  and  in  another  sense  unlike,  both 
 Judaism  and  Christianity,  To  walk  with  God,  to  have  God  ever  present 
 in  all  our  acts,  is  no  doubt  what  the  prophets  of  both  these  religions 
 taught ;  and  in  that  sense  they  were  all  Muhammadans,  or  rather 
 "  Muslims  " — namely,  professors  of  the  faith  of  "  Islam." 
 
 Uut  so  far  as  I  know  anything  either  of  Judaism  or  of  Christianity,  the 
 system  preached  by  Muhammad  was  not  merely  imitative  or  eclectic  ;  it 
 was  also  "  inspired," — if  there  be  such  a  process  as  inspiration  from  the 
 Source  of  all  goodness.  Indeed,  I  venture  to  state  in  all  humility,  that 
 if  self-sacrifice,  honesty  of  purpose,  unswerving  belief  in  one's  mission,  a 
 marvellous  insight  into  existing  wrong  or  error,  and  the  perception  and 
 use  of  the  best  means  for  its  removal,  are  among  the  outward  and  visible 
 signs  of  inspiration,  the  mission  of  Muhammad  was  "  ins2)ired." 
 
 The  Judaism  known  to  Muhammad  was  chiefly  the  traditional  "Masora" 
 as  distinguished  from  the  *' Markaba  "  ;  indeed,  pure  Judaism  as  distinct 
 from  Jiuddhistic  or  Alexandrian  importations  into  it 
 
 The  Christianity  also  which  Muhammad  desired  to  restore  to  its  purity 
 was  the  preaching  of  Christ,  as  distinguished  on  the  one  part  from  the 
 mystic  creed  of  Sl  Paul,  and  the  outrageous  errors  of  certain  Christian 
 sects  known  to  the  Arabs. 
 
 Muhammad  thought  the  Jews  would  accept  him  as  their  Messiah,  but 
 the  "exclusiveness  "  of  the  Jews  prevented  this.  He,  however,  insisted 
 on  the  Arabs  and  on  '*  believers  "  generally  participating  in  tlie  blessings 
 of  their  common  ancestor,  Abraham  ;  and  his  creed,  tlierefore,  became 
 Judaism  plus  proselytism,  and  Christianity  minus  the  teaching  of  St,  Paul. 
 
 The  idea  of  Muhammad  not  to  limit  the  benefits  of  Abraham's  religion 
 to  his  own  people,  but  to  extend  them  to  the  world,  has  thus  become  the 
 means  of  converting  to  a  high  form  of  culture  and  of  civilization  millions 
 of  the  human  race,  who  would  either  otherwise  have  remained  sunk  in 
 barbarism,  or  would  not  have  been  raised  to  that  brotherhood  which 
 *'  Islam"  not  only  preaches  but  also  practises. 
 
 The  founder  of  Muhammadanism  has  been  talked  of  by  Christians  in 
 the  most  unworthy  manner.  Still,  at  first,  he  was  regarded  as  a  quasi- 
 Christian  Sectarian,  Dante  refers  to  Muhammad  as  a  heretic  in  his 
 *'  Inferno  "  ;  and,  indeed,  in  another  sense,  he  was  only  a  dissenter  from 
 one  of  the  many  forms  which  have  adopted  the  appellation  of  "Christian." 
 Some  authors  alleged  that  his  religion  was  taken  from  the  Talmud  ;  but 
 et  seems  to  me  that  the  question  of  what  ^Muhammadanism  really  is  cannot 
 be  summed  up  better  than  in  stating  it  to  be  pure  Judaism  plus  proselytism, 
 and  original  Christianity  minus  the  teaching  of  Sl  Paul.  This  as  regards 
 its  theory  ;  in  practice  it  is  fir  more  than  modern  Christianity  in  its  artificial 
 European  aspect — the  "  Sermon  on  the  i\lount  "  translated  into  daily  life. 
 
294  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Every  Muhammadan  is  a  church  in  himself;  every  one  is  allowed  to 
 give  an  opinion  on  a  religious  matter,  on  the  basis  of  the  belief  common 
 to  his  co-religionists.  They  are  not  slaves  to  priests ;  they  pray  to  God 
 without  an  intermediary,  and  their  place  of  worship  is  wherever  they 
 happen  to  be  at  the  appointed  hours  of  prayer. 
 
 Their  preachers  can  also  follow  other  vocations ;  some  of  them  are 
 shoemakers,  etc.  But,  of  course,  the  bulk  of  their  ministers  of  religion 
 are  so  by  profession  in  regulated  communities. 
 
 There  is  no  such  thing  as  a  Pope  among  them. 
 
 Any  ordinary  Muhammadan  may  say,  "  By  resigning  myself  to  the 
 Divine  will  I  am  myself  the  representative  of  the  faith  of  which  the 
 Prophet  Muhammad  was  the  exponent."  Indeed,  the  bulk  of  Muham- 
 madans  throughout  the  world  are  guided  by  the  consensus  fidelium.  These 
 are  the  Sunnis  or  Ahl  Jemaa't,  in  contradistinction  to  the  second  most 
 important  sect,  the  Shiahs,  which  considers  Muhammad  and  his  lineal 
 successors  to  be  practically  infallible.  The  Shiahs  venerate  the  hereditary 
 principle,  and  their  religious  profession  is  regulated  by  the  interpretation  of 
 the  Koran  and  of  their  traditions  by  their  leading  priests  or  learned  men, 
 the  Mujtahids.     (See  Appendix  III.,  on  "  The  Mahdi  and  the  Khalifa.") 
 
 Muhammad  himself  did  not  make  any  claim  to  infallibility.  On  one 
 occasion  he  had  a  revelation  censuring  himself  severely  for  having  turned 
 away  from  a  beggar  in  order  to  speak  to  an  illustrious  man  of  the 
 commonwealth,  and  he  published  this  revelation,  the  very  last  thing 
 which  he  would  have  done  had  he  been  an  imposter,  as  ignorant  Chris- 
 tians call  the  great  Arab  prophet.  Allow  me  now  to  read  to  you  the  letter 
 of  an  eminent  religious  Muhammadan  functionary,  the  present  Sheikh-ul- 
 Islam  of  Constantinople,  to  a  convert,  Mr.  Schumann,  which  I  humbly 
 venture  to  endorse,  except  the  following  passage  :  "  On  the  day  when 
 you  were  converted  to  Islam  your  sins  were  taken  into  account."  This 
 sentence  cannot  be  taken  literally ;  for,  according  to  the  Muhammadan 
 faith,  the  sins  of  all  are  taken  into  account.  There  is  a  revered  saying 
 that  the  objection  of  one  who  is  learned  is  "  better  than  the  consent  of  a 
 thousand  who  are  ignorant";  and,  without  in  the  least  professing  to  be 
 learned,  I  can,  from  a  Muhammadan  standpoint,  claim  the  privilege  of 
 a  believer  in  objecting  to  a  ruling  which  has  probably  been  rendered 
 incorrectly  in  translation,  and  which  contradicts  the  injunction  addressed 
 to  all  to  "avoid  sin  and  apply  yourselves  to  righteousness,'  whether  Jew, 
 Christian,  or  Muhammadan.  (See  annexed  letter  of  the  Sheikh-ublslam, 
 extracted  from  the  Diplomatic  Flyslteets  of  the  i6th  October,  1888,  on 
 which  Dr.  Leitner's  Lecture  was,  to  some  extent,  a  running  commentary.) 
 
 With  regard  to  the  outward  signs  of  a  Muhammadan,  such  as  prayer, 
 alms,  fasting,  and  jjilgrimagc,  the  religious  books  contain  the  necessary 
 instructions.  As  for  prayer,  they  practically  enforce  that  "  cleanliness  is 
 next  to  godliness,"  for  ablutions  precede  prayer.  The  regulations  regard- 
 ing both  acts  are  minute,  and  as  to  their  ritual  it  is  not  of  every  Christian 
 
MUHAMMADANISM.  295 
 
 that  a  priest  could  say  what  the  Sheikh-ul-Islam  says  of  every  Muham- 
 madan  :  "  These  things,  however,  may  be  learnt  from  the  first  Mussulman 
 that  you  meet." 
 
 Their  alms,  which  are  rightly  called  only  a  pecuniary  prayer,  consist  in 
 giving  up  a  portion,  not  less  than  a  fortieth  part,  or  2\  per  cent.,  of  their 
 goods  to  the  poor.  These  alms  go  into  the  public  treasury,  and  are 
 applied,  among  other  things,  to  the  redemption  of  slaves,  another  subject 
 regarding  which  Christians  ignorantly  accuse  Muhammadans  of  a  state  of 
 things  which  Muhammad  did  his  best  successfully  to  mitigate  by  a 
 practical  legislation  towards  its  eventual  abolition.  (See  Appendix  II.  at 
 the  end  of  this  address.) 
 
 But,  reverting  to  alms,  in  order  that  these  be  acceptable  to  God,  the 
 givers  must  show  that  they  are  in  lawful  possession  of  the  gift  (which, 
 it  is  needless  to  add,  can  be  increased  beyond  the  legal  minimum).  It 
 would  not  do  "  to  rob  a  till  in  order  to  build  a  chapel,"  but  those  who 
 voluntarily  give  more  than  the  fortieth  part  will  be  rewarded  by  God. 
 
 The  pilgrimage  to  Mecca  is  of  great  importance,  as  Muhammadans 
 meet  there  from  all  parts  of  the  world  ;  it  is  a  bond  of  union,  and  creates 
 a  real  visible  Muhammadan  Church,  such  as  the  Christian  world,  with  its 
 innumerable  subdivisions,  does  not  yet  possess  for  the  assembly  of  an 
 entire  Christianity  ;  it  is,  moreover,  a  great  stimulus  for  the  diffusion  of 
 culture  by  means  of  a  common  sacred  language,  the  Arabic,  in  the  same 
 way  as  was  the  case  in  Europe  when  Latin  was  the  one  language  spoken 
 by  all  learned  persons  in  addition  to  their  native  tongue.  Thus  by  know- 
 ing Arabic  one  has  a  key  not  only  to  the  Muhammadan  religion,  but  also 
 to  the  heart  of  the  whole  Muhammadan  world.  In  Asia,  and  even  Africa, 
 in  spite  of  the  so-called  semi-barbarism,  any  abstract  Arabic  word  can 
 become  the  common  property  of  all  the  Arabic-speaking  or  Arabic- 
 revering  nations,  and  Muhammadanism  thus  possesses  an  agency  of 
 civilization  and  culture  which  is  denied  to  other  faiths. 
 
 Fasting  is,  of  course,  a  mere  discipline,  but  it  is  also  of  great  hygienic 
 value,  and,  as  stated  by  the  Sheikh-ul-Islam,  "  The  fulfilment  of  the  duties 
 of  purity  and  cleanliness,  which  are  rational,  also  fulfil  the  hygienic 
 requirements  of  the  physician." 
 
 Indeed,  as  regards  Muhammadan  rules  generally  regarding  abstention 
 iiow\  wine,  pork,  improperly  slaughtered  flesh,  the  disposal  of  what  would 
 be  injurious  if  not  cjuickly  made  away  with,  etc.,  it  may  safely  be  asserted 
 that  they  were  not  laid  down  to  worry  those  who  fulfil  them,  but  to  benefit 
 them  in  body  and  mind. 
 
 With  regard  to  social  gradations,  the  rich  man  is  considered  to  be  the 
 natural  protector  of  the  poor,  and  the  poor  man  takes  his  place  at  the 
 table  of  the  rich.  Nowhere  in  Muhammadan  society  is  there  any  invidious 
 distinction  between  rich  and  poor  ;  and  even  a  Muhammadan  slave  is  not 
 only  a  member  of  the  household,  but  has  also  far  greater  chances  of  rising 
 to  a  position  in  the  Government  or  in  Society  than  an  English  pauper. 
 
296  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 Food  is  given  to  any  one  who  needs  it,  and  charity  is  administered 
 direct,  and  not  by  the  circuitous  means  of  a  Poor  Law  system.  Indeed, 
 from  a  Muhammadan,  as  also  from  the  Buddhistic,  point  of  view,  the 
 giving  of  charity  puts  the  giver  into  a  state  of  obhgation  to  the  receiver, 
 since  it  enables  the  former  to  cultivate  his  sense  of  benevolence. 
 
 In  the  same  way,  among  the  Hindu  Brahmins,  when  even  a  "sweeper" 
 comes  to  ask  for  alms  at  a  Brahmin's  door,  the  latter  worships  him  for 
 having  afforded  him  the  opportunity  for  the  exercise  of  charity.  Such  a 
 view,  in  my  humble  opinion,  includes  all  the  "  graces  "  of  the  truest  and 
 widest  Christian  charity,  and,  from  that  standpoint,  I  can  only  say  that 
 the  best  "  Christians  "  I  ever  knew  were  a  Brahmin  who  had  never  heard 
 the  name  of  Christ,  an  old  Muhammadan  who  revered  Him  as  a  prophet, 
 and  a  poor  Jew  who  nursed  through  a  long  illness  the  Christian  who  had 
 deprived  him  of  his  little  all. 
 
 Servants,  although  they  partake  of  meals  after,  fare  exactly  the  same  as 
 their  masters. 
 
 In  a  Mosque  there  is  perfect  equality  among  worshippers  ;  there  are  no 
 pews;  the  "Imam"  of  the  place  or  any  other  worshipper  may  lead  the 
 prayers,  and  nothing  can  be  a  more  devotional  sight  than  a  crowd  of 
 Muslim  worshippers  going  through  their  various  genuflexions  with  perfect 
 regularity  and  silence. 
 
 Englishmen  object  to  formalism,  but  they  often  worship  routine  and  the 
 letter,  rather  than  the  spirit,  of  rules.  Indeed,  it  may  be  said  that  English 
 precision  is  at  the  root  of  a  great  deal  of  evil ;  and  if  charity  in  its  widest 
 sense  is  the  greatest  of  virtues,  the  formalities  that  accompany  its  collec- 
 tion and  distribution  in  this  country  destroy  its  very  grace. 
 
 We  do  not  seem  to  recognise  that  laws  are  laid  down  for  general 
 guidance,  and  that  the  letter  of  such  laws  is  not  to  be  the  lord  but 
 the  servant  of  our  interpretation  of  them.  Above  all,  our  abstract  charity, 
 our  abstract  religion,  our  hard-and-fast  rules  are  in  contrast  to  the  personal, 
 individual,  concrete,  dramatic,  allegorical,  and  imaginative  which  charac- 
 terize the  Eastern  faiths  and  forms  that  have  been  adapted  by  us.  There 
 would  be  no  Nihilists  and  no  Socialists  in  Europe  were  Western  society 
 constituted  on  the  basis  of  Muhammadanism  ;  for  in  it  a  man  is  not  taught 
 to  be  dissatisfied,  as  is  the  great  effort,  aim,  and  result  of  our  civilization. 
 
 I  would  now  draw  your  attention  to  what  the  Sheikh-ul-Islam  says 
 regarding  marriage.  The  marriage  contract  requires  the  attestation  of  two 
 witnesses,  and  constitutes  a  religious  act ;  but  it  is  not  sacramental,  as 
 with  Christians  and  Hindus. 
 
 The  husband  is  to  enjoy  his  wife's  company,  but  he  cannot  force  her  to 
 accompany  him  to  another  country;  he  is,  however,  in  the  latter  case 
 bound  to  continue  to  maintain  her. 
 
 When  a  connubial  quarrel  takes  place,  arbitrators  may  be  chosen,  and 
 divorce  is  allowed  if  the  parties  cannot  remain  together  otherwise  than  in 
 a  stale  of  enmity.     You  will  admit  that   Muhammadan  legislation  on  the 
 
MUHAMMADANISM.  297 
 
 subject  of  marriage  does  not  deserve  the  opprobrium  that  has  been  cast 
 on  it  by  Christian  writers. 
 
 The  statement  that  among  IMuhammadans  there  exists  the  power  of 
 unlimited  marriage  along  with  unlimited  power  of  divorce  is  not  true. 
 Divorce  is  not  such  an  easy  matter,  as  you  may  have  perceived  from  the 
 letter  of  the  Sheikh-ul-Islarn,  for  it  cannot  be  obtained  without  the  judg- 
 ment of  arbitrators. 
 
 Besides,  at  marriage  a  certain  dowry  is  named,  which  has  to  be  paid 
 to  the  wife  in  the  event  of  divorce  ;  and  many  women  fix  the  amount  in 
 a  sum  far  larger  than  tlie  husband  would  ever  be  able  to  pay,  in  order  to 
 secure  themselves  against  the  danger  of  a  divorce. 
 
 The  Christian,  or  rather  Hindu,  view  of  marriage,  that  it  is  spiritual, 
 is  no  doubt  higher  than  the  Muhammadan  ;  but  the  practice  of  Christian 
 countries  generally  shows  less  observance  of  the  sacredness  of  the  marriage 
 tie  than  that  of  Muhammadans. 
 
 Among  the  Hindus  marriage,  being  spiritual,  cannot  be  dissolved,  and 
 among  the  Roman  Catholics  it  can  only  be  dissolved  with  the  greatest 
 difficulty  ;  but  whether  the  sacramental  or  the  contract  view  of  marriage 
 be  taken,  the  union  is,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases, 
 of  a  permanent  nature  in  all  countries  and  among  all  religions,  though 
 I  grieve  to  have  to  admit  that,  having  lived  among  Muhammadans  from 
 1848,  for  nearly  forty  years,  in  spite  of  their  "unlimited  opportunity  for 
 divorce,"  I  have  known  of  more  cases  of  divorce  among  Christians  than 
 among  them.  I  have  also  no  hesitation  in  affirming  that  in  kindness  to 
 their  family,  to  the  learned  or  aged,  to  strangers,  and  to  the  brute  creation, 
 the  bulk  of  Muhammadans  are  a  pattern  to  so-called  Christians. 
 
 A  few  words  may  be  said  regarding  the  much-abused  subject  of 
 Muhammadan  polygamy.  Apart  from  the  fact  that  polygamy  tends  to 
 provide  for  the  surplus  female  population  in  the  few  places  where  there 
 is  such  surplus,  and  that  polygamy  is  a  check  on  i)rostitution  and  its 
 attendant  evils,  as  also  a  protection  against  illegitimacy  of  birth,  it  cannot 
 be  denied  that  the  vast  majority  of  Muhammadans  have  only  one  wife. 
 This  is  largely  due  to  the  teaching  of  Muhammadanism. 
 
 Muhammad  came  into  a  state  of  society  where  to  have  a  daughter  was 
 considered  to  be  a  misfortune,  and  where  female  children  were  sometimes 
 buried  alive.  There  was  no  limit  to  the  number  of  women  that  a  man 
 could  marry,  and  they  were  a  part  of  the  property  divided  among  the  heirs 
 of  a  deceased  iierson. 
 
 On  the  unHmited  polygamy  which  produced  this  state  of  things  Mu- 
 hammad put  a  check ;  he  directed  that  a  man  could  only  enter  into  the 
 marriage  contract  with  two,  three,  or  four  wives,  if  he  could  behave  with 
 equal  justice  and  equal  love  to  them  all. 
 
 Unless  he  could  do  that  he  was  only  permitted  to  marry  one  wife.  Now  as, 
 practically,  no  one  can  be,  as  a  rule,  equally  fair  and  loving  to  two  or  more 
 wives,  the  spirit  of  Muhammad's  legislation  is  clearly  in  favour  of  monogamy. 
 
298  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 He  also  raised  woman  from  the  condition  of  being  a  property  to  that 
 of  a  proprietor,  and  he  constituted  her  as  the  first  "legal"  sharer  whose 
 interests  the  Muhammadan  law  has  to  consult. 
 
 The  allegation  has  been  made  against  Muhammad  that  by  his  own 
 example  he  justified  profligacy. 
 
 Let  this  statement  be  examined.  Fortunately,  we  are  not  dealing  with 
 a  legendary  individual,  but  with  an  historical  person,  whose  almost  every 
 act  and  saying  is  recorded  in  the  Hadi's  or  collections  of  traditions,  which, 
 next  to  the  Koran,  form  a  rule  of  Muhammadan  conduct.  These  "  Acts 
 of  the  Apostles  '  are  subjected  to  the  most  stringent  rules  of  criticism 
 as  to  their  authenticity,  and  unless  the  story  of  an  act  or  saying  of  the 
 Prophet  can  be  traced  to  one  of  his  own  companions,  it  is  thrown  out  of 
 the  order  of  traditions,  which  form  the  subject  of  critical  investigation  as 
 to  their  actual  occurrence  adopted  by  Muhammadan  commentators.  We 
 have  certainly  far  less  authority  of  a  secular  character  for  the  sayings  and 
 doings  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Well,  then,  on  what  authorities,  good, 
 bad,  or  doubtful,  do  the  allegations  of  Muhammad's  profligacy  rest?  I 
 have  no  hesitation  in  affirming  that,  following  every  such  story  to  its 
 source,  it  will  be  found  to  be  entirely  unsubstantiated,  and  that,  on  the 
 contrary,  to  the  very  great  credit  of  Muhammad,  in  spite  of  many  tempta- 
 tions, he  preserved  the  utmost  chastity  in  a  state  of  society  which  did  not 
 practise  that  virtue. 
 
 Living  among  heathen  Arabs,  .he  remained  perfectly  chaste  till,  at  the 
 age  of  twenty-five,  he  married  a  woman  of  forty  (equivalent  to  one  of  fifty 
 in  Europe);  and  he  married  her  because  she  was  his  benefactor  and 
 believed  in  his  sacred  mission.  As  he  stated  years  after  her  death  to  a 
 young  and  beautiful  wife,  who  was  "  only  jealous  of  the  old  and  dead 
 Khadija,"  in  answer  to  her  question,  "  Am  I  not  so  good  as  she  ?  "  "  No, 
 you  are  not  so  good ;  for  she  believed  in  me  when  no  one  else  did,  she 
 was  my  first  disciple,  and  she  honoured  and  protected  me  when  I  was 
 poor  and  forsaken." 
 
 During  the  whole  period  of  his  marriage  with  her,  twenty  years,  he 
 remained  absolutely  faithful  to  her. 
 
 It  is  true  that,  at  the  age  of  fifty-five,  we  find  him  taking  wife  after  wife  ; 
 but  is  it  not  fair  to  assume  that  in  the  case  of  a  man  who  had  shown  such 
 self-control  till  that  age  there  may  be  reasons  other  than  those  assigned 
 by  Christian  writers  for  his  many  marriages  }     .What  are  these  reasons  ? 
 
 I  believe  that  the  real  cause  of  his  many  marriages  at  an  old  age  was 
 charity,  and  in  order  to  protect  the  widows  of  his  persecuted  followers. 
 
 Persecution  was  great  against  his  followers,  "  the  believers  in  one  God." 
 At  one  time  no  one  was  allowed  to  give  them  food,  and  some  of  them 
 were  obliged  to  escape  to  Abyssinia  in  order  to  seek  a  refuge  with  the 
 Christian  king  of  that  land.  The  king  did  not  give  them  up  to  their  per- 
 secutors. Some  of  them  died  in  Abyssinia ;  and  their  widows,  who  would 
 otherwise  have  perished,  Muhammad  took  into  his  househjold.     The  idea 
 
M  UHA  MM  A  DA  MS  M.  299 
 
 that  the  Prophet  had  any  improper  intention  in  so  doing  is  without 
 foundation ;  especially  if  we  consider  that  he  had  given  abundant  proof 
 during  his  youth  of  continence.  The  story  of  the  marriage  of  the  Prophet 
 with  Zainab,  tlie  divorced  wife  of  liis  freedman  and  ado[)ted  son,  Zeid, 
 has  also  given  rise  to  misconception.  It  may  be  premised  that  the  heathen 
 Arabs  considered  it  wrong  to  marry  the  divorced  wife  of  an  adopted  son, 
 although  they  had  no  objection  to  marry  the  wives  (excluding  their  own 
 mother)  of  a  deceased  father,  just  as  some  people  nowadays  might  not 
 mind  breaking  the  Decalogue  who  would  on  no  account  "  whistle  on  a 
 Sunday." 
 
 Muhammad  excluded  all  this  "nonsense"  by  saying  that  an  adopted 
 child  was  not  a  real  child  ;  and  this  being  so,  it  could  not  be  supposed  to 
 be  within  the  prohibited  degrees.  To  affirm  this  truth  and  not  to  justify 
 a  new  marriage,  the  Prophet  received  a  revelation,  which  has  been  miscon- 
 strued as  a  sanction  to  a  wrongful  act. 
 
 It  really  seems  to  me  that  if  men  cultivated  something  like  true  charity 
 they  would  have  a  different  view  of  other  religions  than  they  now  hold, 
 and  that  they  would  endeavour  to  learn  about  them  from  their  original 
 sources,  instead  of  from  the  prejudiced  second-hand  reports  of  the 
 opponents  of  these  religions. 
 
 Celibacy  is  rare  among  Mussulmans,  and  there  are  very  few,  if  any, 
 marriageable  women  that  are  not  married. 
 
 Adultery  is  punished  equally  both  <in  .man  and  woman.  The  culprit  is 
 flogged  with  a  hundred  stripes  publicly. 
 
 With  regard  to  concubine  ^slaves,  the  Muhammadan  law  will  not  allow 
 their  offspring  to  be  branded  with  infamy  ;  and  the  child  of  a  slave 
 inherits  with  the  children  of  her  master.  Among  us  an  illegitimate  child 
 has  little  protection,  and  even  our  highest  ideal  of  marriage  falls  far  short 
 of,  e.g.^  the  Hindu  marriage  in  a  good  caste,  in  which  the  wife  prays  for 
 the  salvation  of  her  husband,  as  without  her  prayers  his  salvation  could 
 not  be  accomplished. 
 
 The  Muhammadans  have  no  taverns,  .gaming-houses,  or  brothels,  nor 
 have  they  any  idea  of  legalizing  prostitution ;  and  as  regards  their  general 
 conversation  it  is  intinitely  more  .decent,  as  a  rule,  than  that  of  most 
 Europeans.  I  have  seen  young  Muhammadan  fellows  at  school  and 
 college,  and  their.conduct  and  talk  are  far  better  than  is  the  case  among 
 English  young  men.  (See  my  letter  on  "  Islam  and  iMuhammadan 
 Schools,"  published  in  the  Daily  Telegraph  of  the  2nd  February,  1888.) 
 
 Indeed,  the  talk  of  the  latter  is  often  such  as  would  incur  punishment 
 in  a  Muhammadan  land. 
 
 The  married  woman  is  in  a  better  legal  position  than  the  married 
 Englishwoman,  and  she  can  give  evidence  in  attestation  of  a  birth, 
 marriage,  or  death,  which  is  still  denied  to. .a  woman  in. republican  France. 
 
 As  regards  the  assumed  immutability  of  the  Muhammadan  religion, 
 there  is  a  liberty  of  interpretation  of  the  Koran  which  enables  "  Islam  "  to 
 
300  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 be  adapted  to  every  sect  and  country  :  e.g.,  the  law  laid  down  for  its 
 interpretation  that  a  conditional  sentence  has  to  take  precedence  of  an 
 absolute  one,  is  one  that  secures  every  reasonable  liberty  of  conscience  : 
 e.g.,  "fight  the  infidels  "is  an  absolute  sentence;  "fight  the  infidels  if 
 they  attack  you  first "  is  a  conditional  sentence,  and  has  therefore  first  to 
 be  taken  into  account  in  determining  the  much  misunderstood  question 
 of  the  "holy  war,"  or  rather  "Jihad,"  against  infidels.  Indeed,  no  such 
 war  is  legitimate  except  in  self-defence  against  those  wlio  persecute 
 Muhammadans  because  they  believe  in  one  God  and  wlio  turn  them  out 
 from  their  homes  ;  in  other  words,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Muslim  refugees 
 to  Abyssinia  (see  Appendix  V.,  article  on  Jihad).  As  for  religious  tolera- 
 tion, there  is  much  more  of  it  in  practice  among  Muhammadans  than  has 
 been  the  case  at  any  rate,  in  Christian  countries ;  and  had  this  not  been 
 the  fact,  the  Armenian,  Greek,  and  Jewish  communities  would  not  have 
 preserved  their  autonomy,  religion,  and  language  under,  say,  Turkish  rule 
 — a  rule,  I  may  add  from  personal  knowledge,  which  offers  many  lessons 
 of  forbearance  and  humanity  to  Christian  legislation. 
 
 Muhammad  included  Jews  and  Christians  among  Muslims  ;  or  those 
 who  believe  in  God  and  the  last  day  "  shall  have  no  fear  upon  them, 
 neither  shall  they  grieve." 
 
 In  the  chapter  on  "  Pilgrimage"  in  the  Koran,  the  object  of  a  religious 
 war  is  declared  to  be  the  protection  of "  mosques,  synagogues,  and 
 churches,"  for  in  them  alike  "the  name  of  God  is  frequently  commemo- 
 rated." 
 
 Is  not  this  as  tolerant  a  position  as  we  have  only  reached  after  centuries 
 (if,  indeed,  judging  from  the  present  foolish  crusade  against  Muham- 
 madanism,  which  we  are  confounding  with  slavery,  we  have  reached  such 
 a  position)  ? 
 
 I  know  many  IMuhammadans  who  have  subscribed  to  churches;  how 
 many  Christians  subscribe  to  mosques  ?  Yet  in  them  "  the  name  of  God  " 
 is,  indeed,  commemorated. 
 
 As  for  Muhammadan  persecutions  of  Christians,  they  do  not  compare 
 with  the  massacres  of  Muhammadans  by  Christians.  Ab  uno  disce  omties. 
 When  Omar,  in  order  to  avenge  a  former  massacre  of  Jerusalem  by  the 
 Crusaders,  swore  to  put  the  defenders  of  the  city  to  death  he  refrained 
 from  doing  so  after  taking  it ;  for,  as  he  said,  "  I  will  rather  incur  the  sin 
 of  breaking  my  oath  than  put  to  death  a  single  creature  of  God." 
 
 I  cannot  conclude  this  address  better  than  by  insisting  on  the  fact  that 
 the  Jewish,  Christian,  and  Muhammadan  religions  are  sister-faitlis,  having 
 a  common  origin  ;  and  by  expressing  a  hope  that  the  day  will  come  when 
 Cliristians  will  lionour  Christ  more  by  also  honouring  Muhammad. 
 
 There  is  a  common  ground  between  Muhammadanism  and  Christianity, 
 and  he  is  a  better  Christian  who  reveres  the  truths  enunciated  by  the 
 I'rophet  Muhammad. 
 
SI  KM  ISM. 
 
 By  Frederic  Pincott,  M.R.A.S. 
 
 The  task  we  have  before  us  to-day  is  to  examine  the  religion  of  the  Sikhs  ; 
 and  it  is  an  inquiry  which  will  well  repay  the  trouble,  for  many  useful 
 lessons  may  be  deduced  from  it.  It  will  teach  us  that  some  ideas 
 apparently  simple  are  in  reality  the  result  of  ages  of  painful  thought  and 
 investigation;  it  will  teach  us  that  individual  reformers  are  only  conspicuous 
 links  in  a  chain  of  progress  which  has  gradually  brought  man  to  the  level 
 at  which  we  fmd  him  ;  and,  again,  it  will  also  teach  us  that  the  best  inten- 
 tions of  the  most  earnest  reformers  may  be  rendered  nugatory  and  even 
 totally  reversed  by  the  enthusiasm  and  mistaken  zeal  of  disciples  and 
 successors. 
 
 In  order  to  understand  Sikhism  it  is  necessary  to  have  some  knowledge 
 of  the  religious  ideas  current  in  India  before  Sikhism  appeared  on  the 
 scene.  This  will  enable  us  to  see  that  it  was  not  a  violent  reform  due  to 
 the  stupendous  abilities  of  one  man,  but  that  it  was  rather  the  natural  out- 
 come of  previous  ages  of  thought. 
 
 The  earliest  religious  ideas  of  India  which  have  descended  to  our  time 
 are  those  of  pure  Nature-worship — adoration  of  the  sun,  moon,  wind,  rain, 
 clouds,  dawn,  etc.,  etc.  In  the  course  of  centuries  these  primitive  notions 
 were  worked  up  into  a  complicated  system  of  religious  belief,  expressed  in 
 an  elaborate  ceremonial,  with  all  the  extravagance  of  Oriental  pomp  and 
 wealth.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  along  with  the  upgrowth  of  such  a 
 ceremonial  the  heavens  were  peopled  with  a  crowd  of  imaginary  deities, 
 whose  favour  had  to  be  conciliated  by  constant  offerings  to  the  priests. 
 At  length  the  ceremonial  and  its  associated  ideas  became  too  complicated 
 and  contradictory  for  even  the  priests  themselves ;  and  they  felt  the 
 necessity  for  explaining,  reconciling,  and  systematizing  the  chaotic  mass  of 
 notions  which  had  sprung  up  in  wild  luxuriance. 
 
 A  period  of  philosophical  speculation  then  began  which  is  of  the  most 
 interesting  character  ;  for,  as  many  of  the  early  books  then  composed  have 
 been  preserved,  we  are  able  to  trace  the  first  operations  of  the  human  mind 
 in  evolving  spiritual  ideas  from  natural  facts.  To-day  we  can  concern  our- 
 selves with  only  the  ultimate  result  of  these  speculations  ;  and  this  was  that 
 the  entire  universe  and  all  its  varied  phenomena  were  held  to  be  mani- 
 festations of  one,  eternal,  unimpassioned  Self,  or  Existence.  The  whole 
 universe,  therefore,  contained  only  the  eternal,  all-pervading  Self  as  the 
 st)le  reality ;  hence  it  followed  that  there  could  be  no  second.     All  ideas  of 
 
 30I 
 
302  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 duality  were  rank  heresy,  arising  from  delusion  ;  and  the  highest  knowledge 
 was  held  to  be  the  recognition  of  the  absolute  oneness  of  God  and  Nature. 
 This  was  considered  the  end  or  object  of  all  the  sacred  works,  or  Vedas, 
 and  therefore  this  system  of  philosophy  ultimately  came  to  be  called 
 Vedania  \  that  is,  "  the  end  of  the  Vedas."  As  soon  as  the  individual 
 soul  recognised  the  Unity,  it  was  supposed  to  lose  all  desire  for  the  fickle 
 delusions  of  sense  ;  the  bond  which  attached  it  to  existence  was  thereby 
 severed,  and  its  round  of  transmigrations  was  brought  to  an  end.  By  the 
 attainment  of  true  knowledge,  therefore,  the  soul  was  set  free  or  released 
 from  the  bondage  of  existence,  and  thus  obtained  Deliverance. 
 
 The  system  of  philos'-iphy  of  which  we  are  now  speaking  was  evolved 
 at  a  very  early  date,  probably  long  before  the  invention  of  the  name  by 
 which  it  is  now  known.  It  is  found  in  the  ancient  creed  of  Persia,  and  it 
 penetrated  into  Greece  in  times  beyond  historical  record.  Socrates,  Plato, 
 and  Pythagoras  were  essentially  Vedantists,  even  believing  in  the  transmi- 
 gration of  souls.  The  Neo-Platonists  were  certainly  tinged  by  the  same 
 doctrines ;  and  these  Pantheistic  ideas  may  have  penetrated  much  further. 
 
 The  evolution  of  this  system  of  philosophy  brought  with  it  a  great 
 reform  in  India.  The  demonstration  of  the  unity  of  God  swept  away  the 
 necessity  for  the  crowd  of  subordinate  deities ;  and  as  the  highest  know- 
 ledge and  final  deliverance  were  to  be  attained  only  by  the  recognition  of 
 this  unity,  it  followed  that  the  ceremonial  observances  of  the  Brahmans 
 were  purposeless  labours.  'J'his  was  perceived  by  the  great  reformer 
 known  as  Buddha,  and  he  therefore  boldly  proclaimed  all  men  equal,  since 
 all  were  equally  illusory  :  and'  he  taught  that  a  life  of  virtue  and  benevo- 
 lence, and  a  heart  freed  from  all  desire,  would  secure  deliverance  from  the 
 miseries  of  transmigration.  This  simple  creed  of  Buddha  spread  with 
 rapidity,  and  remained  the  dominant  creed  in  India  for  about  a  thousand 
 years,  until,  in  its  turn,  becoming  mystical  and  corrupt,  it  passed  into  a 
 degraded  form  of  the  old  Brahmanical  faith  which  it  had  formerly  super 
 seded.  This  revival  of  Brahmanism,  or,  as  it  is  now  called,  Hinduism,  took 
 ])lace  in  the  ninth  century  of  our  era,  under  the  leadership  of  the  famous 
 reformer  S'ankaracharya. 
 
 We  are  now  approaching  the  main  subject  of  our  lecture.  The  Panjab 
 being  the  earliest  home  of  the  Hindus  in  India,  was  probably  the  seat  of 
 the  most  developed  forms  of  Hindu  religious  thought;  and  the  Panjab 
 being,  furthermore,  the  connecting  link  between  Persia  on  the  one  hand 
 and  Central  Asia  on  the  other,  was  unavoidably  affected  by  the  ideas  of 
 those  who  passed  to  and  fro  for  commercial,  political,  and  warlike  objects. 
 It  will  be  remembered  that  it  was  through  the  Panjab  that  Alexander,  and 
 all  other  con(juerors  penetrated  into  India ;  and  through  the  Panjab  also  a 
 stream  of  Greek  emissaries  passed  to  and  fro  for  hundreds  of  years.  We 
 know  that  the  religion  of  the  Vedas  took  its  rise  in  the  Panjab,  and  that  in 
 the  Panjab  Buddhism  afterwards  held  undisputed  sway.  The  deep  im- 
 pression which  Buddhism  made  on  the  people  of  the  Panjab  is  attested  by 
 
SIKHISM.  303 
 
 tlie  direct  evidence  of  ancient  writers,  and  by  the  enormous  number  of 
 15ud(lhistic  remains  continually  being  dug  up  there. 
 
 When  the  revival  of  Hinduism  took  place  in  Central  India  in  the  ninth 
 century,  Buddhism  was  still  a  power  in  the  Panjab,  although  it  had  be- 
 come corrupt,  and  was  ready  for  a  change.  The  change  came,  however, 
 from  the  reverse  side,  for  in  the  year  looi  Mahmud  of  Ghazni  broke  into 
 the  Panjab  through  Afghanistan,  and,  after  ravaging  the  country  for  twenty 
 or  thirty  years,  ultimately  established  a  governor  in  Lahore,  the  capital  of 
 the  country;  and  from  that  day  forward  the  Panjab  was  cut  off  from  the 
 rest  of  India,  and  became  a  Muhammadan  State. 
 
 It  happened,  however,  that  the  Muhammadans  who  conquered  the 
 Panjab  were  of  Persian  origin  ]  and  they  brought  with  them  the  form  of 
 Muhammadanism  which  was  largely  mixed  with  the  notions  of  the  Sufis, 
 which  were  practically  the  same  as  those  of  the  Vedantists,  or  ancient 
 Indian  philosophers.  It  must  not  be  supposed  that  this  called  forth  any 
 sympathy  between  the  conquerors  and  the  conquered.  The  Muhammadans 
 were  far  too  bigoted  to  listen  to,  much  less  to  examine,  the  religious  ideas 
 of  their  Indian  subjects.  The  only  result  of  the  presence  of  the  Muham- 
 madans in  the  Panjab  was  to  partly  Muhammadanize  the  district,  and  to 
 jKirtly  cut  it  off  from  the  religious  movements  of  the  rest  of  India. 
 
 The  religious  mind  of  India  began  to  be  exceedingly  busy  at  this  time. 
 Sankaracharya,  as  I  have  already  stated,  overturned  Buddhism  in  the 
 ninth  century  by  preaching  belief  in  a  personal  god,  whom  he  named 
 S'iva,  or  Happiness  ;  and  he  armed  him  with  a  trident,  the  emblem  of 
 Buddhism,  as  though  to  indicate  that  by  the  very  law  of  Buddha  he  would 
 overturn  Buddhism.  His  was  a  church  militant  ;  but  in  the  eleventh 
 century  Ramanuja  arose,  who  preached  a  milder  creed,  taking  Vishnu  as 
 his  deity,  Vishnu  meaning  "  the  pervader,"  the  one  who  fills  all  space. 
 The  religion  of  Ramanuja  was  little  else  than  a  re-organization  of  Bud- 
 dhism on  a  Hindu  basis. 
 
 While  these  sectarial  struggles  were  going  on  am-ong  the  Hindus  in  the 
 plains  of  India,  the  Muhammadans  were  consolidating  their  power  in  the 
 Panjab,  and  were  pushing  their  conquests  still  further  into  the  country. 
 Many  desperate  fights  ensued  ;  and  the  patriotic  feelings  of  the  country 
 being  called  forth,  a  species  of  hero-worship  sprang  up,  which  was  brought 
 to  a  focus  by  Ramanand,  about  the  year  1350,  who  preached  the  godship 
 of  heroism  under  the  name  of  an  ancient  leader,  Rama.  Krishna,  a  war- 
 like king  of  Mathura,  also  received  divine  honours  about  the  same  time  ; 
 and  to  the  present  hour  Rama  and  Krishna  are  the  two  great  deified  names 
 which  cheer  the  lives  and  console  the  dying  moments  of  orthodox  Hindus. 
 
 Notwithstanding  the  Muhammadan  domination,  these  waves  of  Hindu 
 thought  found  their  way  into  the  Panjab,  and  helped  to  adulterate  and 
 confuse  the  lingering  Buddhism,  the  reviving  Hinduism,  and  the  advancing 
 Muhammadanism.  The  proof  that  the  Panjab  participated  in  the  mental 
 struggle  is  found  in  the  appearance  of-  Gorakhnath  and  his  sect  in  the 
 
304  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 thirteenth  century.  That  still  famous  teacher  and  learned  enthusiast  was 
 a  Yogin,  the  sect  of  Hindus  most  in  harmony  with  Buddhistic  feeling  ;  and 
 his  object  seems  to  have  been  to  reconcile  decaying  Buddhism  with  reviv- 
 ing Hindilism. 
 
 A  few  more  years,  however,  were  sufficient  to  prove  that  the  fierce 
 hatred  of  idolatry  everywhere  shown  by  the  Muhammadans  was  beginning 
 to  tell  on  the  Indian  mind.  In  the  year  1450  the  large-hearted  Kabir 
 flourished.  He  was  a  worshipper  of  Rama,  the  hero-god  ;  but  he  taught  a 
 spiritual  form  of  adoration,  which  should  engage  the  heart  and  mind  and 
 faculties,  and  not  the  mere  body  and  purse.  He  attacked  the  worship 
 of  idols  with  all  the  energy  of  a  Muhammadan,  but  he  also  assailed  the 
 authority  of  the  Quran  and  the  Hindil  sacred  works  alike.  He  scorned 
 the  exclusive  use  of  a  learned  language  for  the  conveyance  of  religious 
 truth,  and  composed  his  own  works  in  the  dialect  of  his  humble  fellow- 
 countrymen.  It  will  be  seen  from  this  that  Kabir  was  a  reformer  of  the 
 most  pronounced  type.  He  broke  with  the  present  and  the  past,  rejecting 
 all  formality  and  dogmatism,  teaching  the  penitent  and  contrite  heart  to 
 look  up  to  God  direct  and  to  rest  upon  His  all-sufficing  goodness  and 
 mercy.  But  the  most  remarkable  feature  in  Kabir's  teaching  was  the 
 fact  that  he  did  not  confine  his  influence  to  his  Hindtl  co-religionists  ;  he 
 addressed  Muhammadans  also,  and  was  anxious  to  form  a  God-loving 
 community  on  a  basis  common  to  both  Hindu  and  Muhammadan. 
 
 Almost  contemporaneous  with  Kabir  there  arose  in  the  Panjab  the  great 
 and  good  man  with  whose  teaching  we  are  to-day  immediately  concerned. 
 In  1469  the  revered  Nanak  was  born,  near  the  town  of  Lahore  ;  and  he 
 came  into  the  world  inheriting  the  traditions  which  I  have  endeavoured  to 
 sketch,  while  the  struggle  between  Hindu  and  Muhammadan  thought  and 
 power  was  raging.  The  previous  unsettlement  in  the  minds  of  men  had 
 prepared  the  way  for  a  devout  and  enthusiastic  teacher  to  build  up  a  new 
 and  living  f;iith.  Nanak  was  just  the  man  for  sucii  a  task;  for  he  was 
 thorough  and  consistent,  prudent  and  yet  enthusiastic,  inoffensive  yet 
 urgent,  and  as  gentle  in  manner  as  he  was  strong  in  faith.  Nanak  was  one 
 of  the  great  reformers  of  the  world  ;  for  he  clearly  perceived  tiie  errors  of 
 his  predecessors,  and  had  the  boldness  to  proclaim  the  truth,  even  against 
 the  opposition  of  the  prejudiced  and  the  interested,  whether  exalted  or 
 humljle. 
 
 Nanak's  principles  may  be  reduced  to  a  single  formula— the  Unity  of 
 God  and  the  Brotherhood  of  Man.  For  Nanak  there  was  no  such  thing  as 
 a  god  for  the  Hindus,  a  god  for  the  Muhammadans,  and  a  god  or  gods  for 
 the  outer  heathen  ;  for  him  there  was  but  one  God  :  not  in  the  likeness  of 
 man,  like  Rama ;  not  a  creature  of  attributes  and  passions,  like  the  Allah 
 of  Muhammad  ;  but  one,  sole,  indivisible,  self  existent,  incomprehensible, 
 timeless,  all-pervading,— to  be  named,  but  otherwise  indescribable,  ador- 
 able and  altogether  lovely.  Such  was  Nanak's  idea  of  the  Creator  and 
 Sustainer  of  the  phenomenal  world  ;  and  it  was  a  conception  which  at  once 
 
SIKHISM.  305 
 
 abrogated  all  i)etty  distinctions  of  creed,  and  sect,  and  dogma,  and  cere- 
 mony. The  realization  of  such  a  God  shatters  the  sophistries  of  the 
 theologian  and  the  quibblings  of  the  dialectician  ;  it  clears  the  brow  from 
 the  gloom  of  abstruse  pondering  over  trifles,  and  leaves  the  heart  free  for 
 the  exercise  of  human  sympathies.  And  if  the  grand  idea  of  the  Incom- 
 prehensible Unity,  which  could  be  only  named  and  adored,  levelled  all 
 distinctions  of  creed  and  caste,  so  did  the  great  truth  of  the  Brotherhood 
 of  Man  ssveep  away  the  barriers  of  nation,  tribe,  and  station.  Nanak  taught 
 that  all  men  are  ecjual  before  God ;  that  there  is  no  high,  no  low,  no  dark, 
 no  fair,  no  privileged,  no  outcaste ;  all  are  ec^ual  both  in  race  and  in  creed, 
 in  political  rights  and  in  religious  aspirations. 
 
 These  two  ideas — the  Unity  of  God  and  the  Brotherhood  of  Man — while 
 uniting  all  classes  on  a  common  basis,  at  the  same  time  separated  those 
 who  accepted  them  from  the  rest  of  their  countrymen  as  an  association  of 
 God-fearing  republicans  ;  for  what  Nanak  claimed  was  Liberty  from  pre- 
 scribed trammels.  Equality  before  God,  and  the  Fraternity  of  mankind. 
 'Ihe  practical  application  of  the  doctrines  thus  taught  led  to  the  formation 
 of  a  new  nationality,  the  disciples  of  the  great  teacher  becoming  a  repub- 
 lican fraternity,  which  gradually  consolidated  into  a  separate  nation  by  the 
 necessity  for  struggling  for  the  liberty  they  claimed. 
 
 Having  thus  touched  on  the  distinguishing  feature  of  Nanak's  creed,  but 
 little  need  be  said  of  minor  details.  As  might  be  expected  from  the  historical 
 sketch  I  have  just  given,  the  subordinate  features  of  Nanak's  faith  were  a 
 mixture  of  Muhammadan,  Buddhistic,  and  Hindu  ideas.  Like  the  Muham- 
 madans,  Nanak  taught  that  the  great  Name  of  God  was  an  efficacious  in- 
 strument of  saving  grace  ;  like  the  Buddhists,  he  held  that  the  attainment 
 of  Nirvana,  or  eternal,  passionless  repose,  was  the  iiighest  and  final  reward 
 of  virtue  ;  like  the  SUfis,  he  believed  that  each  soul  was  an  immortal  ray 
 of  light  from  the  Supreme  ;  and  like  the  Hindus,  he  thought  that  the 
 quintessence  of  all  doctrine  rested  in  a  realization  of  the  formula  "  So  ham" 
 ("/am  t/iat").  This  last  expression,  it  will  be  seen,  is  the  pure  Vedanta 
 doctrine  that  God  is  Nature,  and  that  the  individual  soul  is  only  a  portion 
 of  the  Universal  Soul,  in  accidental  union  with  cosmical  phenomena.  As 
 soon  as  the  individual  soul  realizes  the  idea  that  //  and  t/u7t  are  one— in 
 other  words,  that  //  is  only  a  minute  atom  of  i/iat  eternal,  all-pervading 
 Self — then,  by  that  very  recognition,  individuality  is  at  once  destroyed, 
 and  with  it  all  the  desires  and  passions  which  chain  the  soul  to  worldly 
 life. 
 
 The  essential  doctrine  of  the  Unity  is  impressed  on  the  mind  of  every 
 Sikh  by  the  figure  1  being  prefixed  to  every  book,  section,  and  chapter  of 
 every  volume,  and  at  the  beginning  of  every  document  and  letter.  This 
 pantheistic  resolution  of  all  that  exists  into  one  Unity,  agrees  with  the 
 Vedanta  doctrine,  and  also  with  Persian  Sufi-ism.  Jami,  the  Persian  poet, 
 in  his  passionate  verses  on  Joseph  and  Potiphar's  wife,  exclaims  : — 
 
 VOL.   I.  X 
 
3o6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 "  Dismiss  every  vain  fancy,  and  abandon  every  doubt  ; 
 Blend  into  One  every  spirit,  and  form,  and  place  ; 
 See  One — know  One — speak  of  One — 
 Desire  One— chant  of  One— and  seek  One." 
 
 The  following,  from  the  Sikh  Bible,  called  the  Adi  Graitih,  is  identical 
 
 in  sentiment : — 
 
 "  Thou  recitest  the  One  ;  thou  placest  the  One  in  thy  mind  ;  thou 
 recognisest  the  One. 
 The  One  is  in  eye,  in  word,  in  mouth  ;  thou  knowest  the  One  in 
 
 both  worlds. 
 In  sleeping,  the  One  ;  in  waking,  the  One  ;  in  the  One  thou  art 
 absorbed." 
 
 The  Adi  Granih  abounds  in  declarations  of  the  Unity,  such  as,  "  Thou 
 art  I  ;  I  am  Thou ;  of  what  kind  is  the  difference  ?  "  "  In  all  the  One 
 dwells  ;  the  One  is  contained."  "  All  the  world  is  contained  in  the  true 
 Lord."  However  much  the  Sikh  religion  may  have  changed  in  other 
 respects,  we  find  the  Tenth  Guru  exclaiming  in  his  dying  moments  :  "  The 
 Smritis,  the  S'astras,  and  the  Vedas,  all  speak  in  various  ways  ;  I  do  not 
 acknowledge  one  of  them.  O  Possessor  of  Happiness  !  bestow  thy  mercy 
 on  me  !     I  do  not  say  '  I,'  I  recognise  all  as  '  Thee.'  " 
 
 Ideas  of  duality  were  distinctly  reprobated,  as  in  the  expression,  "  By 
 
 reason  of  dual  affection,  the  name  of  God  is  forgotten."     The  One  God, 
 
 in  Guru  Nanak's  opinion  (and  in  the   opinion  of  all  Sufis),  is  the  Creator 
 
 of  plurality   of  form,  not  the  Creator  of  matter  out  of  nothing.      The 
 
 l)henomenal  world  is  the  manifestation  of  Deity,  and  it  is  owing  to  pure 
 
 deception    that   the   idea   of  severalty  exists.      In   the   Adi    Granth  we 
 
 read  : — 
 
 "  The  cause  of  causes  is  the  Creator. 
 
 In  His  hand  are  the  order  and  reflection. 
 
 As  lie  looks  upon,  so  it  becomes. 
 
 He  Himself,  Himself  is  the  Lord. 
 
 Whatever  is  made,  is  according  to  His  own  pleasure. 
 
 He  is  far  from  all,  and  with  all. 
 
 He  comprehends,  sees,  and  makes  discrimination. 
 
 He  Himself  is  One,  and  He  Himself  is  many. 
 
 He  does  not  die  nor  perish,  He  neither  comes  nor  goes. 
 
 Nanak  says,  He  is  always  contained  in  all." 
 
 The  Supreme  One  comprises  both  spirit  and  matter,  and  therefore  is 
 what  is.  The  soul  of  man  is  held  to  be  a  ray  of  light  from  the  Light 
 Divine  ;  and  it  necessarily  follows  that,  in  its  natural  state,  the  soul  of  man 
 is  sinless.  The  impurity,  which  is  only  too  apparent  in  man,  is  accounted 
 for  by  the  operation  of  what  is  called  Maya,  or  Delusion  ;  and  it  is  this 
 Maya  which  deludes  creatures  into  egoism  and  duality,  that  is,  into  selt- 
 consciousncss,  and  into  the  idea  that  there  can  be  existence  apart  from  the 
 Divine.  Tiiis  Delusion  j^revents  the  pure  soul  from  freeing  itself  from 
 matter,  and  hence  the  spirit  passes  from  one  combination  of  matter  to 
 another,  in  a  long  chain  of  births  and  deaths,  until  the  delusion  is  removed, 
 and  the  enlrammelled  ray  returns  to  the  Divine  Light,  whence  it  originally 
 emanated.     The  belief  in  metempsychosis  is  thus  seen  to  be  the  necessary 
 
SIKHISM.  307 
 
 complement  of  pantheism  ;  and  it  is  essential  to  the  creed  of  a  Hindu,  a 
 Buddhist,  and  a  Sufi. 
 
 Such  was  the  philosophical  basis  of  Sikhisni ;  and  we  will  now  give  our 
 attention  to  the  history  of  the  creed,  and  to  the  changes  which  time 
 wrought  on  this  earliest  form  of  the  faith.  Nanak  was  born,  as  I  have 
 before  said,  near  Lahore,  in  the  Panjab,  in  the  year  1469  ;  and  although 
 he  was  the  son  of  a  Hindi!  village  accountant,  his  first  teacher  was  a 
 Muhammadan.  This  fact  enables  us  to  see  how  intimately  the  believers  in 
 the  two  creeds  were  associated  together  at  the  time.  He  seems  to  have 
 been  a  thoughtful  boy,  with  a  large  share  of  veneration  in  his  character  ; 
 for  in  his  earliest  years  he  sought  the  society  of  the  religious  enthusiasts 
 known  a.'a/aqirs,  who  literally  infested  the  Panjab.  These  wild  and  semi- 
 naked  mendicants  and  dreamers  filled  the  lad's  mind  with  an  insatiable 
 yearning  for  spiritual  perfectibility.  From  association  with  those  who  had 
 renounced  all  the  comforts  of  life  for  the  love  of  God,  he  learnt  to  despise 
 wealth,  except  as  a  means  to  relieve  the  wants  of  others.  Accordingly  it 
 soon  became  his  practice  to  give  in  alms  to  the  poor  all  the  material 
 wealth  which  came  into  his  possession.  However  laudable  this  practice 
 may  have  been,  it  soon  degenerated  into  an  infatuation  ;  and  no  property 
 was  safe  if  entrusted  to  young  Nanak.  As  a  climax  to  many  similar  acts, 
 when  only  fifteen  years  of  age  Nanak  distributed  among  the  poor  the 
 money  which  his  father  had  given  him  to  start  with  in  business.  His  father 
 then  sent  him  to  his  sister,  who  was  residing  in  the  town  of  Sultanpur,  in 
 order  to  wean  him  from  his  faqir  associates. 
 
 Nanak  at  once  took  service  in  a  Muhammadan  gentleman's  house ;  but 
 he  gave  to  the  poor  the  whole  of  his  salary,  except  a  bare  maintenance  for 
 himself  About  this  time  he  was  induced  to  marry;  and  he  had  two  sons, 
 descendants  from  whom  still  exist.  He  was  evidently  faithful  in  his 
 service,  for  he  rose  to  the  responsible  position  of  steward  of  the  estate, 
 making  all  payments  and  managing  the  property  according  to  his  own  will. 
 
 At  the  age  of  thirty-five  the  great  change  took  place  in  his  mind  which 
 gave  to  the  world  a  new  religion.  It  is  stated  in  the  traditionary  account 
 of  his  life,  tliat  while  engaged  in  his  religious  ablutions  in  the  river  he  felt 
 himself  suddenly  translated  to  the  gates  of  Paradise ;  and  that  a  goblet  of 
 the  water  of  life  was  given  to  him,  of  which  he  drank ;  and  that  he  heard 
 the  voice  of  the  Lord  commanding  him,  and  saying  :  "  Nanak  !  I  am  with 
 thee  :  I  have  made  thee  happy  :  and  whoever  shall  take  thy  name,  they  all 
 shall  be  rendered  happy  by  Me.  Go  thou,  repeat  My  Name,  and  cause 
 other  people  to  repeat  it.  Remain  uncontaminated  from  the  world.  Con- 
 tinue steadfast  in  the  Name,  in  almsgiving,  in  ablutions,  in  service,  and  in 
 remembrance  of  Me.  I  have  given  to  thee  My  own  Name ;  do  thou  this 
 work." 
 
 Limiediately  Nanak  had  recovered  from  his  trance,  he  uttered  the  key- 
 note of  his  future  system  in  the  remarkable  phrase,  "  There  is  no  Hindii  ; 
 there  is  no  Musalman."     The  utterance  of  such  a  paradox  soon  raised  a 
 
3o8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 commotion  against  him  ;  and  his  employer,  who  appears  to  have  been 
 chief  man  in  the  village,  was  urged  to  interrogate  him  as  to  his  revolution- 
 ary notion.  When  brought  before  the  concourse,  he  put  his  questioners  to 
 sliame  by  the  unanswerable  logic  of  his  replies  and  the  earnest  devotion  of 
 his  manner.  Then  the  people,  both  Hindu  and  Musalman,  began  to  say 
 that  God  was  speaking  in  Nanak;  and  he  was  forthwith  accepted  as  a 
 religious  teacher.  This  assumption  of  an  instructor's  office  caused  him  to 
 be  called  Guru  Nanak  \  that  is,  Nanak  the  Teacher  or  instructor. 
 
 Nanak  found  in  his  late  employer  an  ardent  admirer;  but  neither 
 friendship  nor  family  ties  could  restrain  his  missionary  impulse.  He  seems 
 at  first  to  have  addressed  himself  exclusively  to  Muhammadans,  and  to 
 have  effected  several  conversions  ;  but,  after  a  time,  he  reached  Benares, 
 and  proceeded  to  convert  Hindus  in  the  very  stronghold  of  Brahmanism. 
 
 In  his  travels  he  was  accompanied  by  a  devoted  companion  named 
 Mardana,  who  had  some  skill  in  playing  on  the  rabdb,  a  kind  of  violin. 
 The  companionship  of  this  musician  enabled  Nanak  to  express  most  of 
 his  ideas  in  a  metrical  form  ;  and  he  composed  a  large  number  of  poems 
 in  various  metres,  amounting  in  the  whole  to  nearly  three  thousand  stanzas. 
 They  consist  of  laudations  of  God  under  many  Hindi!  and  Muhammadan 
 names,  praises  of  His  goodness  and  mercy,  and  incitements  to  purity  of  life 
 and  devotion.  These  poems,  afterwards  collected  and  largely  added  to, 
 form  the  famous  book  called  the  Adi  Grant/i,  which  is  the  Bible  of  the 
 Sikhs. 
 
 While  on  one  of  his  missionary  tours  Guru  Nanak  was  captured  by  the 
 victorious  troops  of  Babar,  who  broke  into  the  Panjab  in  1526,  and  ul- 
 timately seated  himself  on  the  throne  of  India.  The  Emperor  Babar 
 seems  to  have  been  much  attracted  by  the  independent  spirit  and  piety  of 
 Nanak,  and  after  a  short  time  gave  him  his  liberty.  Immediately  after  his 
 release  he  recommenced  his  labours  among  Muhammadans,  and  was  cer- 
 tainly successful  in  his  operations.  Several  special  conversions  were  made, 
 chiefly  among  members  of  that  faith  ;  and  it  is  related  that  he  travelled  to 
 Kashmir,  and  even  made  a  pilgrimage  to  Alakkah,  like  an  orthodox  Musal- 
 man. The  latter  statement  must  have  been  an  exaggeration,  and  merely 
 shows  how  far  his  followers  thought  him  capable  of  going  in  his  leaning 
 towards  Muhammadanism. 
 
 After  thirty-four  years  of  wandering  and  preaching,  Guru  Nanak  came  to 
 the  river  Ravi  to  die— in  conformity  with  Hindii  custom — by  the  side  of  a 
 natural  stream  of  water.  He  seated  himself  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  and  his 
 cluster  of  Hindu  and  Muhammadan  followers  stood  around  to  receive  his 
 final  commands.  Then  the  question  of  burial  occurred  to  the  disciples, 
 and  they  communed  among  themselves  as  to  whether  the  final  rites  should 
 be  according  to  the  Hindu  or  the  Muhammadan  practice.  This  is  the 
 most  remarkable  proof  that  Guru  Nanak's  life  was  so  free  from  bias  that  his 
 most  intimate  associates  could  not  agree  as  to  which  faith  might  more 
 properly  claim  him.     "  W'c  will  bury  hira,"  said  the  Musalmans  ;  '•  We  will 
 
SIKHISM.  309 
 
 burn  liim,"  said  the  Hindus.  But  the  tradition  relates  that,  as  soon  as  life 
 was  extinct,  the  body  vanished  ;  the  obvious  intention  of  the  story  being, 
 that  it  was  the  desire  of  Nanak  to  leave  the  question  unsettled. 
 
 The  founder  of  Sikhism  died  in  the  year  1538  ;  and  he  left  behind  him 
 the  reputation  of  being  an  amiable,  modest,  prudent,  and  earnest  man.  He 
 was  thoroughly  illiterate  for  he  could  neither  read  nor  write  ;  but  his  warm 
 imagination  enabled  him  to  compose  many  spirit-stirring  verses  in  his  ver- 
 nacular Panjabi,  which  are  still  read  with  fervour,  and  will  long  continue 
 to  be  read  with  devotion  and  reverence.  His  theology,  as  I  have  before 
 said,  consisted  of  boundless  adoration  of  the  great  Name  of  God,  and  a 
 recognition  of  the  unity  of  God  and  the  nonentity  of  all  but  God.  As 
 regards  humanity,  he  held  that  all  men  were  equal ;  he  impressed  upon  all 
 the  duty  of  charity,  forbearance,  and  active  beneficence  ;  and  he  even 
 extended  his  sympathies  to  the  lower  creation,  recommending  abstinence 
 from  animal  food  and  the  avoidance  of  the  infliction  of  suffering  on  animal 
 creatures. 
 
 The  first  three  successors  of  Guru  Nanak  were  humble  and  pious  men, 
 the  third  of  whom  accepted  voluntary  contributions  from  the  disciples. 
 These  were  converted  into  a  compulsory  tax  by  the  Fifth  Guru,  Arjun, 
 who  was  an  ambitious  man.  Tiiis  change  brouglit  with  it  wealth  and 
 ])0wer,  and  excited  the  alarm  of  the  Muhammadan  rulers  of  the  country, 
 who  could  not  view  without  concern  the  upgrowth  of  what  seemed  to  them 
 a  Hind  ft  sovereignty  in  the  very  heart  of  the  district  they  had  subdued. 
 Guru  Arjun  had  attained  some  scholarship,  and  employed  much  of  his 
 time  in  collecting  the  poems  of  his  predecessors.  These  he  arranged  in 
 the  form  of  a  book,  classif)  ing  them  according  to  the  tunes  to  which  they 
 were  sung,  and  almost  doubling  their  bulk  by  compositions  of  his  own. 
 The  book  as  he  left  it  is  that  which  I  have  before  spoken  of  as  the  Adi 
 Gronth. 
 
 The  government  of  the  next  four  Gurus  was  chiefly  characterized  by 
 conflicts  with  the  Muhammadans  ;  and  at  length  the  Tenth  and  last  Guru 
 arose,  who  completely  changed  the  constitution  of  the  fraternity.  This 
 Avas  Guru  Govind  Singh,  who  was  born  in  a.d.  1666,  and  educated  as  a 
 thorough  Hindu,  being  a  devotee  of  the  goddess  Durga.  He  does  not 
 seem  to  have  troubled  himself  with  points  of  doctrine;  his  chief  care  was 
 to  re-organize  the  society  on  a  fighting  basis,  to  enable  it  better  to  contend 
 with  its  Muhammadan  antagonists.  For  this  purpose  he  converted  the 
 whole  body  into  an  army,  which  he  named  the  K/ialsa,  that  is,  "  the 
 pure "  ;  and  conferred  upon  each  member  of  the  body  his  own  name 
 Singh,  or  "  lion."  To  the  present  hour  the  name  of  every  member  of  the 
 Khalsa,  or  army  of  the  faithful,  ends  in  Singh.  Guru  Govind  Singh  also 
 finally  abolished  caste  distinctions  among  his  followers,  and  admitted 
 members  of  all  castes  to  his  army.  In  consequence  of  his  military  instincts, 
 he  was  able  to  fight  with  determination  against  the  jNIuhammadans,  and 
 also  to  win  their  respect  by  his  bravery  and  success,  insomuch  that  it  is 
 
3IO  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 reported  that  Bahadur  Shah  received  him  courteously  and  employed  him  in 
 important  offices.  It  is  not  improbable  that  the  bitter  animosity  he  felt 
 against  Muhammadanism  was  due  to  the  fact  that  his  father,  Teg  Bahadur, 
 had  been  murdered  at  Delhi,  by  order  of  the  Emperor  Aurangzeb. 
 
 Another  thing  which  Guru  Govind  Singh  did  for  Sikhism  was  to  give  it 
 a  second  sacred  work.  This  book  was  called  the  Daswen  Fadsha/n,  or 
 "  The  Tenth  Ruler,"  because  it  gave  an  account  of  the  life  and  opinions  of 
 the  Tenth  Guru.  This  work  is  now  held  in  equal  reverence  with  the  Adi 
 Grant/i,  although  it  is  utterly  undeserving  of  such  a  distinction.  For  us  it 
 serves  the  useful  purpose  of  showing  the  change  which  had  passed  over 
 Sikhism  in  the  interval  between  the  First  and  Tenth  Gurus.  In  the  Adi 
 Granth  we  find  poems  by  Hindils,  by  Muhammadans,  and  by  the  earlier 
 Sikh  Gurus,  all  mingled  together  with  perfect  indifference,  but  all  of  them 
 expressing  adoration  of  the  Great  Incomprehensible  Soul  of  the  Universe. 
 In  the  Dasiven  Padsliahi,  on  the  contrary,  we  have  nothing  but  Hindd 
 material,  containing  miraculous  and  mythological  performances  of  Hindil 
 gods  and  goddesses,  extracts  from  ancient  Hindu  books,  wonderful  stories 
 for  the  edification  of  women,  laudatory  poems  on  the  excellences  of 
 weapons,  and  a  history  of  Guru  Govind  Singh  and  his  contests.  It  is 
 perfectly  clear,  from  a  comparison  of  these  two  sacred  books,  that,  in  the 
 interval  between  the  First  and  the  Tenth  Gurus,  Sikhism  had  passed  from 
 a  position  of  neutrality  to  one  of  partiality  for  HindClism  and  of  antagonism 
 to  Muhammadanism. 
 
 The  Adi  Grnn/h  and  Dasioen  Padshahi  have,  since  the  days  of  the  last 
 Guru,  been  treated  with  superstitious  reverence  by  tlie  Sikhs.  At  all 
 their  gatherings  these  volumes  are  placed  before  them,  and  saluted  with 
 the  royal  greeting,  "  Wa  Guru  Ji  ka  Khalsa !  wa  Guru  Ji  ki  Fateh  !  "  just  as 
 though  the  Guru  himself  were  present.  A  Sikh  assembly  is  an  impressive 
 ceremony  from  its  very  simplicity.  After  the  volumes  have  been  placed 
 and  saluted,  a  large  quantity  of  kara  pros' ad  (made  of  flour,  sugar,  and 
 clarified  butter)  is  placed  before  them,  covered  by  a  cloth.  The  repast  is 
 next  saluted,  and  prayers  are  offered  ;  the  assembly  then  sits  down,  the 
 cloth  is  removed,  and  Sikhs  of  all  classes  eat  it  together  without  distinction 
 of  rank.  Enormous  quantities  of  this  really  delicious  kara  pras'ad  are 
 eaten,  and  not  only  by  the  Sikhs,  but  by  the  poor  outside  and  by  any  one 
 in  the  vicinity.  The  injunction  of  Nanak  was  to  eat  and  to  give  others  to 
 eat ;  therefore  the  Sikhs  consider  it  a  favour  if  any  one,  no  matter  what 
 his  religion  may  be,  will  sit  down  and  eat  the  kara  pras'ad  which  they  so 
 l)()untifully  supply.  All  distinctions  of  tribe  or  station  are  laid  aside  by 
 the  Sikhs  on  these  occasions,  in  token  of  complete  union  in  one  cause. 
 The  leaders  in  the  ceremony  then  exclaim,  "  Chieftains  !  this  is  a  Guru- 
 mata  !  "  Prayers  are  then  again  said,  and  the  chiefs  sit  closer  together  and 
 say,  "The  sacred  book  is  between  us  ;  let  us  swear  by  the  holy  volume  to 
 forget  all  external  disputes,  and  to  be  united."  This  solemn  bond  of  union 
 seems  to  be  the  chief  object  of  the  meeting  ;  and  it  must  have  originated 
 
SIKHISM.  3" 
 
 in  the  necessity  for  self-preservation  resulting  from  the  persistent  efforts  of 
 the  Muhammadans  to  root  out  the  sect. 
 
 Curu  Govind  Singh's  hatred  of  the  Muhammadans  was  complete,  not- 
 withstanding the  enterprises  in  which  he  deemed  it  prudent  to  engage 
 along  with  them.  He  instituted  a  fine  of  a  hundred  and  twenty-five 
 rupees  for  saluting  a  Muhammadan  tomb,  however  saintly  ;  and  from  him 
 arose  the  maxim  that  "  a  true  Sikh  should  always  be  engaged  in  war  with 
 the  Muhammadans,  and  slay  them,  fighting  them  face  to  face." 
 
 After  a  very  turbulent  reign,  this  Guru  was  treacherously  murdered  by 
 the  dagger  of  a  Pathan  follower,  to  whom  he  had  shown  special  kindness. 
 When  dying,  he  refused  to  name  a  successor,  informing  his  followers  that 
 after  his  death  the  Adi  Grauth,  or  sacred  book  itself,  was  to  be  their  guide 
 in  every  respect  ;  and  since  then  the  book  has  always  been  placed  at  the 
 head  of  every  Sikh  gathering,  and  is  saluted  with  profound  reverence  3 
 indeed,  the  book  is  never  spoken  of  except  as  Sri  Adi  Granth  Sahib, 
 which  may  be  rendered  as  "  The  revered  Adi  Granth,  Esquire,"  as  though 
 it  were  a  human  being. 
 
 The  more  recent  history  of  the  Sikhs,  since  the  death  of  Guru  Govind 
 Singh  in  i7o<S,  has  been  very  turbulent.     The  command  of  the  Khalsa,  or 
 army  of  the   fiiithful,  devolved  upon  Banda,  who  fought  successfully  on 
 many  occasions  against  the  Muhammadan  emperors  of  India.     At  length 
 he  was  completely  routed,  and  every  Sikh  who  could  be  caught  was  killed. 
 After  this  defeat  Sikhism  disappeared  from  sight  for  about  a  generation  ; 
 but  in  1738  the  Sikhs  ventured  again  to  visit  their  tank  at  Amritsar,  and 
 established  a  small  fort  on  the  banks  of  the  Ravi.     They  were  again  dis- 
 persed in  1745  ;  but  they  regained  possession  of  Lahore  in  1756.     A  brutal 
 slaughter  of  the  Sikhs  in  1762  by  Ahmad  Shah  and  his  Afghans,  instead  of 
 finally  crushing  the  Sikhs,  had  the  effect  of  knitting  the  remainder  together 
 into  a  compact  body.     Ahmad  Shah's  forces  were  then  defeated,  and  the 
 whole  country  between  the  rivers  Jhelum  and  Sutlej  passed  into  the  pos- 
 session of  the  Sikhs.     The  fortune  of  the  Sikhs  seemed  now  in  the  ascen- 
 dant, and  in  17S5  the  whole   Sikh  community  was  united  by  the  marriage 
 of  Ranjit  Singh  with  the  daughter  of  Sudh  Kunwar.     In  1799  the  Afghans 
 finally  left  the  district  to  the  undisputed  possession  of  Ranjit  Singh,  who 
 administered  affairs  with  prudence  and  energy  until  just  before  the  English 
 occupation  in  1845. 
 
 The  Sikhs  regard  the  mission  of  Nanak  and  Govind  Singh  as  the  con- 
 summation of  former  dispensations,  including  that  of  Muhammad. 
 
 The  ceremony  of  initiation  into  the  fraternity  instituted  by  Guru  Govind 
 Singh,  and  which  is  still  observed,  is  called  the  Pahul ;  and  the  first  cele- 
 bration has  been  thus  described  :  The  Guru  caused  his  five  most  faithful 
 followers  to  sit  side  by  side  ;  and  having  placed  some  purified  sugar  in 
 water,  he  stirred  it  with  a  sword;  and  after  reciting  some  verses  in  praise 
 of  God,  he  caused  the  disciples  to  drink  some  of  the  liquid  :  some  he 
 placed  on  their  lieads,  and  the  remainder  he  sprinkled   over  their  bodies. 
 
512  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Then  patting  them  with  his  hand,  he  exclaimed,  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Say, 
 '  Ve  are  tlie  pure  of  God  ;  and  the  victory  is  of  the  supreme  God  ! ' " 
 "I'his  completed  the  ceremony,  and  the  exclamation  became  ever  after  the 
 watchword  of  Sikhism  and  the  salutation  among  the  Sikh  brotherhood. 
 Just  as  Muhammadans  salute  each  other  with  "Salamalaikum  !  "  so  do  the 
 Sikhs  on  all  occasions  exclaim,  "  \Va  Guru  Ji  ka  Khalsa !  wa  Guru  Ji  ki 
 Fateh  !  " 
 
 Guru  Govind  Singh  ordained  that  every  Sikh  should  always  retain  about 
 his  person  five  things,  each  beginning  with  the  letter  k;  that  is,  kcs, 
 "  hair,"  ^rt;/^//(r,  "a  cofmh,''  karad,  "  a  dagger,"  kirpdn,  "a  sword,"  and 
 kac/ih,  "short  drawers."  The  meaning  of  these  things  is  this  : — A  Sikh  is 
 to  be  distinctly  different  from  both  Hindu  and  Muhammadan,  both  of  whom 
 shave  the  head.  A  Sikh  is  never  to  shave,  or  even  to  cut  either  hair  or 
 beard,  as  long  as  he  lives  ;  and,  on  account  of  the  kcs,  or  hair,  the  kangha, 
 or  comb,  is  necessary.  The  sword  and  dagger  are  for  fighting  even  "  to 
 the  knife  "  ;  and  the  short  drawers  are  to  give  the  body  freedom  in  fighting, 
 by  keeping  it  clear  from  the  entanglement  of  long  garments.  Whoever 
 omits  to  carry  about  him  any  one  of  these  five  objects,  cannot  be  a  true 
 Sikh. 
 
 Sikhs  are  strictly  enjoined  to  reject  both  the  Hindu  and  the  Muhamma- 
 dan sacred  books,  to  reject  the  authority  of  the  scholars  and  expounders 
 of  those  faiths,  to  abstain  from  visiting  their  sacred  places  or  joining  in 
 their  ceremonies,  and  never  to  wear  any  of  their  distinguishing  marks.  A 
 Sikh  is  never  to  salute  one  who  is  not  a  Sikh  ;  and  if  he  salute  a  Musal- 
 man  or  shave  his  head  like  a  Hindil,  he  is  worthy  of  hell.  A  Sikh  must 
 never  smoke  tobacco  or  drink  spirituous  liquors  ;  he  may,  however,  intoxi- 
 cate himself  with  bhang  as  often  as  he  likes.  He  must  never  turn  liis  face 
 away  from  the  Guru.  All  the  ceremonies  of  his  life,  such  as  birth,  marriage, 
 and  death,  must  be  performed  with  passages  from  the  Adi  Grantk  and  the 
 Daswen  Padshahi,  and  from  no  other  book.  He  must  be  strictly  truthful, 
 kind  to  the  poor,  and  abstain  from  false  dealing,  slandering,  and  fornica- 
 tion. He  is  never  to  uncover  his  head,  or  to  covet  the  wife  or  wealth  of 
 another  man  ;  and  when  he  dies,  it  is  not  good  to  cast  his  ashes  into  the 
 Ganges,  as  is  the  custom  of  the  Hindils,  but  to  throw  them  anywhere  in 
 the  neighbourhood  of  Amritsar. 
 
 These  were  the  principles  of  Sikhism  at  the  time  of  the  last  of  the  ten 
 (iurus.  Since  then  the  disciples  of  Nanak  have  approached  yet  nearer  to 
 llindilism,  and  have  repeatedly  made  pilgrimages  to  Haridwar,  and  have 
 done  other  things  which  would  have  shocked  their  ancestors  of  two  hun- 
 dred years  ago.  At  the  present  day,  although  still  preserving  their  dress 
 and  separate  organization,  they  are  considered  almost  identifiable  in  ideas 
 with  the  Hindij  community. 
 
 Such,  then,  is  the  philosophy  and  such  is  the  history  of  Sikhism.  It 
 began  in  simplicity  and  large  hearted  tolerance,  on  the  one  noble  principle 
 the  Unity  of  God  and  the  Brotherhood  of  Man  ;  it  passed  into  sectarianism 
 
S/k'HlSM. 
 
 .)' J 
 
 and  a  political  organization  based  on  hatred  of  Muhammadans;  and  has 
 ended  by  sliding  almost  insensibly  back  to  the  superstition  and  mythology 
 of  the  Hinduism  it  was  intended  to  reform. 
 
 Daring  recent  years  a  desire  to  revive  the  fading  glories  of  Sikhism  has 
 begun  to  manifest  itself  in  the  Panjab  ;  antl  the  Khalsa  is  now  laying  the 
 foundation  of  an  organized  system  of  instruction,  with  the  object  of  giving 
 the  members  of  their  fraternity  a  scholarly  knowledge  of  their  sacred  books, 
 and  also  enlarging  their  minds  generally.  In  these  praiseworthy  efforts 
 the  Sikhs  will  receive  the  cordial  co-operation  of  every  right-thinking 
 Englishman;  for  it  is  much  to  be  hoped  that  this  manly  form  of  faitli  will 
 regain  the  simplicity  and  vitality  with  which  it  was  endowed  by  its  noble- 
 hearted  founder. 
 
SUFIISM. 
 
 By  Edward  G.  Browne. 
 
 All  systems  of  thought  wliich  attempt  to  deal  with  the  "  whence,"  the 
 "  whither,"  and  the  "  wherefore  "  of  man  fall,  broadly  speaking,  into  one 
 of  two  classes,  according  to  whether  they  address  themselves  chiefly  to  the 
 reason  or  the  emotion.  Those  systems  which  appeal  mainly  to  the  reason 
 we  call  philosophies  ;  those  which  seek  primarily  to  satisfy  the  emotion, 
 religions.  According  as  the  emotional  or  the  rational  element  predomi- 
 nates in  the  seeker  after  truth  will  he  naturally  incline  to  become  religious 
 cr  philosophical.  When  both  elements  co-exist  in  equal  measure  and  in  a 
 l.igh  degree  of  intensity,  they  are  extremely  prone  to  produce  some  form  of 
 •  'ysticism. 
 
 You  will  observe  that  I  use  the  term  "mysticism"  not  in  that  half- 
 scornful  sense  which  some  are  wont  to  attach  to  it,  but  in  its  highest 
 jiieaning,  as  signifying  that  attitude  of  mind  wherein  reason,  transcending 
 itself,  becomes  adoration  ;  or  religious  contemplation,  becoming  vision, 
 sees  athwart  all  veils  and  husks  of  formulae  those  divine  verities  the  com- 
 prehension of  which  is  the  aim  alike  of  religion  and  philosophy.  It  is 
 related  that  the  great  philosopher  Avicenna  (Ibn  Sina)  once  met  and  con- 
 versed with  the  great  mystic  Abu  Sa'i'd  ibn  Abi'l-Khayr.  When  they 
 parted,  the  former  said,  "What  I  know,  he  sees,"  and  the  latter  said, 
 "  What  I  see,  he  knows."  Pure  in  life  and  earnest  in  purpose,  but  starting 
 from  different  points,  both  had  attained  the  same  goal,  the  one  led  by 
 reason,  the  other  by  love.  In  these  two  great  men  we  have  types  of  the 
 two  classes  into  which  all  mystics  may  be  divided— the  philosophical  and 
 the  religious.  Of  the  former  class,  we  find  examples  in  the  Neo-Platonists 
 of  Alexandria  and  the  Vedantists  of  India  ;  of  the  latter,  in  the  disciples 
 of  Kckhart  and  Tauler,  St.  Bernard  and  St.  Therese,  Madame  Guyon  and 
 Molinos.  Amongst  the  Sufi's,  whom  we  are  now  about  to  consider,  we 
 shall  find  both  classes  represented. 
 
 Siifiism  is,  then,  a  system  of  mysticism,  and  as  such  its  character  is  half 
 religious,  half  philosophical.  It  is  that  form  of  mysticism  which,  though 
 more  or  less  current  in  'I'urkey,  Egypt,  India,  and,  indeed,  all  Muham- 
 madan  countries,  has  its  chief  home,  if  not  its  centre  and  well-spring,  in 
 I'ersia.  Before  we  proceed  to  consider  what  it  is,  whence  it  came,  and 
 what  it  teaches,  we  naturally  ask  what  the  word  Sufi  means.  Here  the 
 difficulty  is  not  to  give  an  answer,  but,  amongst  the  many  etymologies 
 which  have  been  proposed,  to  give  the  true  answer.  Many  European 
 scholars  have  derived   the   term   from   the  Greek   a-otfxk,  supposing  it  to 
 
 3«4 
 
suF/is.\r.  315 
 
 denote  the  wise  men  or  seekers  after  divine  wisdom  of  Islam.  The  Sufis 
 themselves  connect  it  with  the  Arabic  root  safi,  sdf,  which  signifies  what 
 is  pure.  Others  see  in  it  a  historical  allusion  to  the  ahhi-suffa,  or  "  people 
 of  the  bench,"  that  is,  the  religious  mendicants  who  used  to  assemble, 
 almost  from  the  first  establishment  of  the  religion  of  Islam,  on  the  benches 
 or  banks  outside  the  mosques,  in  the  hope  of  receiving  alms  from  those 
 who  came  to  worship  there.  On  the  whole,  the  most  probable  derivation 
 is  from  snf  (wool),  according  to  which  the  Siifi's  received  their  name  from 
 the  coarse  woollen  raiment  worn  by  them  as  a  symbol  of  their  disregard  of 
 earthly  j^leasures  and  their  renunciation  of  wealth  and  luxury. 
 
 If  the  etymology  of  Sufi'ism  is  obscure,  not  less  so  is  the  history  of  its 
 origin.  Is  it,  as  we  are  told  by  Jami  and  other  Siifi  biographers,  as  well  as 
 by  many  Muhammadan  writers,  who,  though  not  themselves  Siifis,  think 
 and  speak  of  the  Siifi  doctrine  and  its  adherents  with  respect  or  admira- 
 tion, nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  inner  doctrine  of  Islam,  the  under- 
 lying mystery  of  the  Kur'an,  the  pith  and  kernel  of  the  faith  taught  by  the 
 Arabian  Prophet  ?  Or  is  it,  as  an  examination  of  the  Siifi  doctrine  itself 
 might  well  lead  us  to  suppose,  a  system  widely  separated  alike  in  origin, 
 purport,  and  tendency  from  the  Muhammadan  faith,  wherewith  accident 
 alone  has  associated  it,  and  from  which  it  borrows  nought  save  somewhat 
 of  its  outward  apparel?  And  if  we  adopt  the  latter  hypothesis,  whence 
 came  its  inward  essence?  Is  it  a  remnant  of  some  forgotten  doctrine  of 
 pre-Muhammadan  Persia?  Is  it  a  descendant  of  that  Neo-Platonism, 
 which,  deeply  tinged  from  the  first  with  Eastern  thought,  was  carried  back 
 to  Persia  by  the  little  band  of  philosophers  whom  the  intolerance  of 
 Justinian  had  driven  into  exile  and  compelled  to  seek  a  refuge  at  the  court 
 of  the  Sasanian  king?  Or  must  we  trace  back  its  origin  to  Buddhist 
 monks  or  Brahmin  priests,  and  seek  in  India  its  home  and  birthplace  ? 
 Or,  on  the  other  hand,  must  we  see  in  the  striking  analogies  which  Siifiism 
 bears  to  each  of  these  systems  nothing  more  than  the  similar  result  of 
 similar  processes  of  thought  pursued  by  similar  minds  ? 
 
 I  cannot  pretend  to  offer  you  a  definite  solution  of  this  question,  which, 
 to  my  mind,  cannot  receive  a  final  answer  until  the  literature  of  the  system 
 now  under  our  consideration  shall  have  been  submitted  to  a  much  more 
 careful  and  systematic  study  than  it  has  yet  received.  Had  I  been  called 
 upon  to  give  my  opinion  on  the  matter  five  years  ago,  I  should  have  stated 
 it  as  my  belief  that  Siifiism  was  essentially  non-Muhammadan,  if  not  anti- 
 Muhammadan,  in  character,  and  that  it  was  the  revolt  of  the  Aryan  spirit 
 against  a  Semitic  religion  imposed  by  force  of  arms  on  an  Aryan  people. 
 Were  I  obliged  to  express  a  definite  opinion  now,  I  should  have  to  confess 
 that  further  study,  and  a  year's  sojourn  amongst  the  Persians,  during  which 
 I  enjoyed  many  opportunities  of  holding  prolonged  converse  with  Siifis  of 
 every  shade  of  thought,  have  compelled  me,  if  not  altogether  to  abandon 
 this  view,  at  least  to  consider  it  as  only  partially  true.  Signs  of  that 
 quietism  and  mysticism  which  are  the  essence  of  the  Siifi  doctrine  are  to 
 
3i6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 he  found  almost  from  the  beginning  of  Islam  in  Arabia,  Egypt,  Morocco, 
 and  other  non-Aryan  portions  of  the  Muhammadan  world.  We  cannot, 
 therefore,  regard  Siifiism  as  a  movement  exclusively  Aryan.  How  far  it 
 accords  with  the  teaching  of  Islam  is  another  question.  Isolated  passages 
 occur  in  the  Kur'dn  which  serve  admirably  as  texts  for  Siifi  homilies,  nay, 
 which  almost  seem  to  countenance  that  pantheistic  Unitarianism  which  is 
 the  essential  characteristic  of  Siifiism.  "Thou  didst  not  slay  them,"  saith 
 (lOd,  addressing  the  Prophet  on  the  subject  of  the  victory  gained  over  the 
 heathen  at  Bedr,  "  but  God  slew  them  ;  neither  didst  thou  shoot  when 
 thou  didst  shoot,  but  God  shot."  ^  On  the  face  of  it  this  means  no  more 
 than  that  God  fought  for  His  elect,  but  the  Siifi  sees  in  it  a  much  deeper 
 significance,  a  proof  that  in  all  things  God  alone  is  in  reality  the  One  True 
 Agent,  and  that  man  is,  as  it  were,  nought  but  the  mirror  wherein  His  acts 
 are  displayed.  Neither  does  this  apply  only  to  actions  wrought  by  God's 
 saints  in  His  cause.  "  If  a  good  thing  befalleth  them,"  runs  another  verse, 
 "  they  say,  '  This  is  from  God ' ;  and  if  an  evil  thing  befalleth  them,  they 
 say,  'This  is  from  thee.'     Say,  '  All  is  from  God.'  "  2 
 
 To  say  that  God  is  omnipresent  is  to  say  no  more  than  every  theist,  Mu- 
 hammadan, Christian,  or  otherwise,  would  assert.  And  this  is  perhaps  all 
 that  is  meant  in  the  verse  :  "  And  to  God  belongeth  the  East  and  the 
 West,  and  whithersoever  ye  turn,  there  is  the  Face  of  God."  ^  But  we  are 
 carried  a  step  further  by  such  words  as  these  :  "Verily  We  created  man, 
 and  We  know  what  his  soul  whispereth  to  him,  for  We  are  nearer  unto 
 him  than  the  jugular  vein,"  *  for  here  it  is  distincdy  implied  that  God 
 pervades  and  interpenetrates  every  atom  of  the  universe.  Yet  other  texts 
 there  are  which  seem  to  imply  the  impermanence,  if  not  the  absolute  un- 
 reality, of  this  same  universe,  as,  for  example,  the  following:  "All  those 
 who  are  thereon  {i.e.,  on  the  earth)  pass  away,  and  there  endureth  but  the 
 Face  of  thy  Lord,  the  Glorious,  the  Bountiful."  ■*  With  such  texts  before 
 him,  we  can  at  least  see  how  one  brought  up  in  the  faith  of  Islam,  and  en- 
 dowed by  nature  with  the  mystic  temperament,  can  find  in  the  book  he 
 holds  divine  a  sufficient  ground  for  the  pantheism,  the  idealism,  and  the 
 quietism  which  are,  periiaps,  in  reality  rather  the  outcome  of  his  own 
 spiritual  tendencies  than  the  logical  consequence  of  the  teachings  of  the 
 Kur'dn. 
 
 From  what  has  been  said,  you  will  already  have  understood  clearly  that 
 Siifiism  is  not  a  system  which  can  be  referred  to  any  one  man.  We  can- 
 not say  "  So-and-so  was  the  founder  of  the  Siifi  doctrine  "  ;  nay,  we  can- 
 not even  say  who  were  the  first  Sufi's.  A  prophet  arises  crying  in  the 
 wilderness  of  Arabia  ;  a  mighty  spirit  stirs  throughout  Western  Asia;  con- 
 flict, clamour,  tumult  and  strife  arise  ;  ancient  dynasties  are  overthrown  ; 
 ancient  landmarks  are  removed  ;  ancient  creeds  crumble  away.  When, 
 after  a  century  and  a  half,  this  turmoil   has  somewhat  subsided,  and   the 
 
 '   Kur'dn,  viii.  17.         2   Kur';in,  iv   80.         '   Kui';in,  ii.  109. 
 *  Kur'dn,  1.  15.         *  Kur'dn,  Iv.  26,  27. 
 
SpFl/SM.  317 
 
 new  order  which  from  this  strife  of  conflicting  elements  and  disintegration 
 of  ancient  systems  lias  slowly  shaped  itself  is  more  clearly  visible,  Siiffism 
 is  in  existence.  How  it  may  have  arisen,  I  have  striven  to  show  you.  How 
 it  did  arise,  I  do  not  pretend  positively  to  assert.  lam  inclined  to  believe^ 
 however,  that  its  practical  part,  its  quietism,  its  renunciation  of  worldly 
 objects,  its  passionate  longing  for  closer  commune  with  God,  preceded, 
 and,  indeed,  led  to  its  theoretical  part,  its  i)antheism,  its  idealism,  its  scorn 
 of  outward  forms,  its  universal  tolerance.  In  other  words,  the  Siifi  was  a 
 saint  before  he  became  a  seer.  'I'his  view  is  supported  not  only  by  the 
 history  of  those  to  whom  a  later  age  has  given  the  name  of  Siifi,  but  by 
 the  history  of  mysticism  in  general.  How  readily  devotion  passes  into 
 contemplation,  and  contemplation  into  vision  and  ecstasy,  is  seen  not  only 
 here,  but  amongst  the  German  mystics  of  the  fourteenth  century,  the  saints 
 of  the  Romish  Church,  and  the  quietists  of  France.  In  full  accord  with 
 this  are  the  three  states  or  phases  of  religious  life  recognised  by  Muham- 
 madan  mystics. 
 
 First,  there  is  the  Shari^at,  or  Law,  the  ordinances  laid  down  by  God 
 through  His  prophets  for  the  order  of  the  world  and  the  guidance  of  man- 
 kind. ^\^hosoever  walketh  in  the  Law,  faithfully  fulfilling  its  commands, 
 walketh  towards  God,  though  perhaps  blindly.  Next  to  this,  and  above  it 
 is  the  2\uikat,  or  Way,  the  path  of  search  after  God,  the  followers  of  which 
 seek  a  higher  guerdon  than  the  delights  of  Paradise,  and  observe  a  higher 
 rule  of  life  than  mere  outward  conformity  to  the  Law.  This  path,  beset 
 with  perils  and  difficulties,  leads  those  few  who  are  faithful  to  the  end 
 unto  the  highest  and  most  blessed  state  of  all,  called  Hdk'ikat,  the  Truth. 
 You  may  perhaps  wish  to  be  shown  more  clearly  what  is  the  difference 
 between  these  three  states.  I  will  tell  you  how  it  was  explained  to  one 
 who  asked  this  question  of  a  Siifi  teacher.  "Go,"  said  he,  "and  strike  in 
 succession  each  of  those  three  men  you  see  sitting  there."  So  the  inquirer 
 first  approached  that  one  of  the  three  who  was  a  follower  of  the  Law,  and 
 struck  him  a  blow  on  the  cheek.  The  man  looked  up,  and  at  once  struck 
 the  inc^uirer  a  similar  blow,  for  thus  does  the  Law  of  Islam  enjoin,  '•  Life 
 for  life,  and  eye  for  eye,  and  nose  for  nose,  and  ear  for  ear,  and  tooth  for 
 tooth,  and  for  wounds  (equal)  retaliation."  ^  The  inquirer  next  approached 
 the  follower  of  the  Path,  and  struck  him  in  like  manner.  This  man  looked 
 up  and  flashed  as  though  in  anger,  clenched  his  hand  as  though  to  strike, 
 but  suddenly  seemed  to  recollect  himself,  and,  by  a  conscious  eftbrt,  to  re- 
 strain himself  from  returning  the  blow  or  addressing  any  remonstrance  to 
 his  assailant.  Last  of  all,  the  int^uirer  went  up  to  him  who  had  attained 
 to  the  Truth,  and  smote  him  as  he  had  smitten  the  others.  But  this  man 
 did  not  appear  even  to  be  conscious  of  the  blow,  the  insult,  or  the  presence 
 of  his  assailant.  As  he  was,  so  he  remained,  seemingly  absorbed  in  a 
 blissful  contemplation  which  rendered  him  insensible  to  all  around  him. 
 
 The  Siifi  not  only  adopts  a  higher  standpoint  in  his  dealings  towards  his 
 
 1  Kur"an,  v.  49. 
 
3i8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 fellow-man,  but  also  in  his  dealings  with  God.  Fuzeyl  'Ayyaz,  a  Silfi  who 
 lived  in  the  second  century  of  the  Muhammadan  era,  said,  "I  worship 
 God  in  love,  because  I  cannot  bear  not  to  worship  Him."  Another  Siifi, 
 being  asked  who  amongst  mankind  was  the  meanest  and  basest,  answered, 
 "  He  who  worships  God  from  fear  or  hope."  "  How,  then,"  they  demanded, 
 "  do  you  worship  Him  ?  "  "  f'or  love,"  he  replied,  "  for  His  love  makes 
 me  serve  and  obey  Him."  The  following  anecdote  illustrates  still  more 
 forcibly  to  what  extent  perfect  acquiescence  in  God's  will  is  enjoined. 
 
 A  dervish  once  said  in  the  presence  of  'Abdu'l-Khalik  Ghujdavvani, 
 "  Were  God  to  give  me  my  choice  between  heaven  and  hell,  I  would  choose 
 hell ;  for  heaven  is  the  desire  of  the  soul,  while  hell  exists  but  for  God's 
 good  pleasure."  'Abdu'l-Khalik  rebuked  him,  saying,  "  What  business  has 
 a  servant  to  choose  at  all?  Let  us  go  whithersoever  He  bids  us  go,  and 
 be  whatsoever  He  bids  us  be." 
 
 Before  we  go  any  further,  or  pass  from  the  ethical  to  the  metaphysical 
 aspect  of  Suffism,  I  wish  to  insist  very  strongly  on  the  absolute  resignation 
 to  God's  will,  the  perfect  contentment  with  whatever  His  will  may  ordain, 
 the  utter  meekness  towards  all  men,  in  a  word,  the  extreme  quietism  incul- 
 cated by  the  Sufi  doctrine.  Of  this  point  I  may  perhaps  be  permitted  to 
 give  you  a  few  further  illustrations. 
 
 Sa'di  relates  that  he  once  saw  a  dervish  who  had  been  wounded  by  a 
 leopard,  and  whose  wound  no  remedies  could  heal,  sitting  by  the  seashore 
 and  giving  thanks  to  God.  On  being  asked  for  what  he  was  giving  thanks, 
 he  replied,  "  For  this,  that,  thanks  be  to  God,  I  have  fallen  into  misfortune 
 rather  than  sin." 
 
 Ruveym  defmed  true  nobility  thus  :  "  Nobility,"  said  he,  "  is  this,  that 
 thou  shouldst  hold  thy  brother  excused  in  whatever  fault  is  committed  by 
 him,  while  never  so  dealing  with  him  as  to  need  to  ask  excuse." 
 
 Abii  Sa'id  ibn  Abi'l-Khayr,  whose  conversation  with  Avicenna  has  been 
 already  alluded  to,  gave  the  following  definition  of  Siifiism  : — "  Laying 
 aside  what  thou  hast  in  thy  head  {i.e.  prejudices,  fancies,  and  pre-conceived 
 ideas),  giving  away  what  thou  hast  in  thy  hand,  and  not  tlinching  from 
 aught  which  may  befall  thee." 
 
 Now  that  we  have  seen  something  of  the  practical  outcome  or  ethics  of 
 Svit'iism,  we  may  proceed  to  consider  the  doctrine  which  underlies  it.  Be- 
 fore doing  so,  we  naturally  incjuire  concerning  tiie  sources  whence  we  may 
 derive  information  about  this  doctrine.  Broadly  speaking,  these  sources 
 are  four  in  number,  as  follows : — 
 
 Firstly,  the  sayings  and  aphorisms  of  the  early  quietists  and  mystics  of 
 Islam  handed  down  orally  by  their  disciples  and  followers,  and  finally 
 committed  to  writing  by  the  biographers  of  a  later  generation. 
 
 Secondly,  the  systematic  works  of  tliose  philosophers,  half  Tlatonist,  half 
 Muhammadan,  and  wholly  mystic,  who  first  gave  to  Siifiism  a  definite  and 
 detailed  metaphysical  doctrine. 
 
 Thirdly,  the  didactic  poems  and  lyric  rhapsodies  of  the  Sufi  poets. 
 
SUFllSM.  319 
 
 Fourthly^  the  teachings  of  contemporary  representatives  of  the  system. 
 
 Let  us  consider  each  of  these  in  somewhat  fuller  detail. 
 
 The  early  quietists  of  Islam  were,  for  tiie  most  part,  neither  philosophers, 
 poets,  nor,  to  any  great  extent,  propagandists.  They  sought  God,  they 
 sought  peace  of  soul,  they  renounced  the  world,  and  they  valued  fame  as 
 little  as  they  valued  wealth.  Hence  all  that  we  know  of  them  is,  in  most 
 cases,  confined  to  the  brief  aphorisms  and  scanty  anecdotes  recorded  by 
 writers  of  a  later  age  which  had  come  to  regard  them  as  saints.  In  their 
 own  time  they  were  more  often  regarded  as  heretics,  if  not  as  downright  un- 
 believers, and  not  a  i^ss  of  tliem  suffered  persecution  and  even  martyrdom 
 at  the  hands  of  the  doctors  of  Islam.  One  of  the  most  celebrated  of 
 these  martyrs  was  Huseyn  ibn  Mansur,  called  Hallaj  ("  the  wool-carder"), 
 who  was  crucified  or  hanged  at  Baghdad  on  March  15th,  a.d.  923,  after 
 suffering  grievous  mutilations  and  tortures.  He  was  put  to  deaiii  on  a 
 charge  of  blasphemy,  because,  in  that  state  of  mystic  ecstasy  which  the 
 Sufi's  call  "  Union  "  or  "Annihilation  in  God,"  he  had  cried  out,  "  I  am  the 
 Truth,"  that  is,  "  I  am  God."  Being  rebuked  for  this  and  told  to  say  not  "  I 
 am  the  Truth,"  but  "  He  is  the  Truth,"  he  replied  ;  "  Yes,  He  is  all,  but  you 
 say  He  is  lost.  Huseyn  is  lost ;  the  drop  has  disappeared  ;  but  the  ocean 
 remains  as  it  was."  Many  strange  details  about  his  execution  are  related. 
 Amongst  these  we  are  told  that  though  he  bore  the  blows  and  buffetings  of 
 the  mob,  and  even  the  amputation  of  his  hands  and  feet,  with  untlinching 
 fortitude,  he  wept  when  Shibli,  his  former  friend  and  a  professing  Siiff,  threw 
 a  handful  of  mud  at  him.  When  asked  the  reason  of  this,  he  replied, 
 "What  the  others  do  they  do  ignorantly,  but  Shibli  knows  that  he  is  doing 
 wrong."  Though  condemned  by  his  contemporaries,  he  is  generally 
 accounted  a  saint  by  later  Siih's. 
 
 Concerning  the  charge  on  which  he  was  put  to  death,  one  of  his  bio- 
 graphers, the  illustrious  Sheykh  Fari'du  'd-Din  'Attar,  says,  "  I  am  astonished 
 wliy  any  one  who  thinks  it  right  that  the  cry  of  '  Verily  I  am  God,'  should 
 issue  from  a  tree  (alluding  to  the  story  of  Moses  and  the  Burning  Bush,  as 
 given  in  the  Kur'an,  xxviii.  30),  this  tree  being  still  extant,  should  not 
 think  it  right  that  '  I  am  God '  should  proceed  from  Huseyn,  Huseyn 
 being  no  longer  extant"  (for  he  had  already  during  life  merged  his  separate 
 individual  existence  in  that  of  God).  "  He  saw  that  he  was  both  lover 
 and  beloved,  he  himself  being  selfless  between."  Hafiz,  writing  a  century 
 and  a  half  later,  says, — 
 
 "  Those  who  attain  their  desire  are,  like  Mansur,  on  the  cross, 
 For  if,  in  face  of  this  longing,  they  look  for  cure,  they  fail." 
 
 On  the  whole  it  is,  perhaps,  less  wonderful  that  such  a  fate  overtook 
 Mansiir  than  that  it  did  not  overtake  others  whose  utterances  were  at  least 
 as  likely  to  provoke  the  hostility  of  the  orthodox.  Indeed  if  Bayazid  of 
 Bistam,  who  lived  a  little  while  earlier  than  Mansiir,  actually  said  some  of 
 those  things  which  are  generally  attributed  to  him,  we  can  only  marvel  at 
 the  immunity  which  he  enjoyed  from  the  vengeance  of  the  Muhammadan 
 
320  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 doctors.  If  Mansiir  was  deemed  worthy  of  death  for  saying,  "  I  am  the 
 Truth,"  how  did  Bdyazi'd,  who  cried  out,  "  There  is  none  other  than  God 
 witliin  my  cloak,"  escape  ? 
 
 Although  the  general  drift  and  tendency  of  Siifiism  is  already  apparent 
 in  the  deeds  and  words  of  these  early  mystics  of  Isl.im,  it  is  scarcely  prob- 
 able that  with  them  it  had  yet  assumed  the  character  of  a  definite  philoso- 
 phy of  the  universe.  To  give  it  this  character  was  seemingly  a  task  reserved 
 for  the  philosophers  of  a  later  generation,  whose  minds,  deeply  imbued 
 with  riatonist  idealism,  found  in  the  mystical  utterances  of  their  prede- 
 cessors a  material  to  which  they  gave  form  and  fulness.  Amongst  these 
 philosophers  many  different  grades  of  thought  are  observable,  from  a  com- 
 l)aralively  orthodox  Muhaminadanism,  tinged  with  Platonism,  to  a  Platon- 
 ism  almost  merged  in  Pantheism,  and  often  characterized  by  strong 
 theurgic  tendencies. 
 
 Of  these  two  extremes,  types  may  be  found  in  the  erudite  and  indefatig- 
 able Al-Ghazzali,  whose  services  to  orthodoxy  were  so  signal  as  to  earn 
 for  him  the  title  of  HuJJatu'I-Is/d/n,  "the  Argument  of  Islam,"  and  in 
 Sheykh  Shihabu  'd-Di'n  Suhravardi,  hardly  less  "erudite,  but  far  less  fortu- 
 nate, who,  long  suspected  of  heresy  and  witchcraft,  received  from  the 
 doctors  of  religion  who  condemned  him  no  favour  but  this,  that  he  was 
 permitted  to  choose  in  what  manner  he  would  die.  Strange  as  it  may 
 appear,  he  chose  death  by  starvation,  alleging  as  his  reason  for  this  choice 
 that  he  was  so  habituated  to  abstinence  that  this  death  would  only  be  the 
 culminating  point  of  a  life  devoted  to  ascetic  practices.  Between  these 
 two  extremes — the  philosopher  canonized  as  a  saint,  and  the  philoso[)hcr 
 killed  as  a  heretic — every  grade  is  to  be  found.  The  majority  probably 
 tasted  both  of  the  sweet  and  the  bitter  in  different  pro*portions. 
 
 Amongst  these,  few  exercised  a  greater  influence  on  the  development  of 
 Siifi'ism  than  Sheykh  Muhiyyu  'd-Di'n  ibnu  'l-'Arabi,  a  Moor  born  at  IMarcia, 
 in  Spain,  in  a.d.  i  165.  When  nearly  forty  years  of  age,  he  visited  the  East 
 for  the  fust  time,  and  there  he  travelled  or  sojourned  for  another  forty 
 years,  now  in  Egypt,  now  in  Arabia,  now  in  Turkey,  now  in  Mesopo- 
 tamia, until  at  length  he  died  at  Damascus  in  .\  d.  1240.  His  writings, 
 which  were  both  numerous  and  voluminous,  are  still  widely  read  in  the 
 East,  especially  in  Persia ;  and,  indeed,  no  works  of  this  class  have 
 enjoyed  such  general  and  long-continued  popularity.  The  fourteenth-cen- 
 tury Siifi  poets  of  Persia  were  especially  influenced  by  his  thought,  in 
 particular  Fakhru  'd-Din  'Iraki  and  Awhad  of  Kirman,  of  whom  the  latter 
 actually  conversed  with  him.  His  most  celebrated  works  are  his  mystical 
 commentary  on  the  Kur'an  and  his  Fususu  '/-Hika»i,  in  which  latter  he 
 jjrofessed  to  expound  the  esoteric  doctrine  of  Islam,  as  communicated  to 
 him  in  visions  by  the  Propliet  Muhammad. 
 
 \\ z  now  pass  to  the  Suff  poets,  and  it  is  these  who  present  us  with 
 .Siiffism  in  its  most  typical  as  well  as  its  purest  and  most  attractive  form. 
 It  is  almost  impossible  to  over-estimate  the  influence  of  Sufiism  on  Persian 
 
SUF/ISM.  321 
 
 poetry.  How  rich  a  literature  this  is,  every  one  knows  ;  yet  were  we  to 
 eHniinate  every  portion  of  it  which  bore  the  impress  of  Siifi  thought,  very 
 httle,  and  that,  as  a  rule,  the  least  attractive  part,  would  remain.  Of  the 
 great  Persian  poets,  Firdawsi  is  perhaps  the  only  one  who  is  almost  never 
 mystical;  and  indeed  in  the  great  national  epic  which  occupied  the  greater 
 portion  of  his  life  mysticism  would  have  been  out  of  place.  Many  of 
 Persia's  greatest  poets,  such  as  Sana'i,  Sheykh  Fari'du  'd-Din  'Attar, 
 Mawlana  Jalalu  'd-Di'n  Riimi,  and  Jami,  consecrated  their  verse  almost 
 entirely  to  the  elucidation  and  elaboration  of  the  Siifi  doctrines.  Almost 
 all  the  lyric  poets,  like  Hafiz  (who  gained  for  himself  the  title  of  Lisdnu 
 'I-ghayb,  "  The  Tongue  of  the  Unseen  World  "),  are  mystical,  as  are  the 
 greater  number  of  the  epic  poets,  though  in  less  degree.  Indeed  the 
 satirists  and  panegyrists  are  almost  the  only  ones  in  whose  verse  no  trace 
 of  the  prevailing  mysticism  is  to  be  found.  It  is  necessary,  however,  to 
 insist  strongly  on  the  fact  that  the  Siifiism  of  the  poets  is  in  many  cases 
 rather  sentimental  than  philosophical,  while  in  some  instances  it  is  merely 
 a  fashion.  We  must  carefully  distinguish  between  Sufis  who  chose  poetry 
 as  the  vehicle  of  their  teaching,  like  Sana'i,  Jalalu  'd-Din  Riimi,  Faridu 
 'd-Di'n  'Attar,  Mahmud  Shabistari,  and,  to  a  considerable  extent,  Jami,  and 
 poets  who  sought  to  adorn  their  verse  with  Siifi  ideas  and  metaphors, 
 like  many  of  the  lyric  poets.  It  has  been  often  and  earnestly  discussed 
 whether  the  odes  of  Hafiz  are  to  be  taken  in  a  literal  or  a  mystical  sense. 
 Orthodox  Muhammadans,  who,  while  recognising  the  incomparable  beauty 
 of  his  poetry  and  the  profound  truths  which  often  underlie  it,  are  scandal- 
 ized by  his  continual  allusions  to  wine  and  beauty,  generally  assert  that 
 all  his  poems  are  to  be  understood  allegorically.  To  this  end  they  have 
 invented  a  cut-and-dried  terminology,  according  to  which  wifie  means 
 spiritual  rapture,  the  cup-bearer,  the  spiritual  guide,  and  so  on.  Nothing 
 can  be  more  absurdly  unnatural  than  this  system  of  interpretation,  just 
 as  nothing  can  be  more  intolerably  dull  than  the  commentaries  based 
 thereon.  We  can  easily  see,  however,  in  what  manner  it  arose.  Hafiz, 
 whose  contemporaries  regarded  him  with  such  suspicion  and  disapproval 
 that  they  would  scarcely  grant  him  a  decent  burial  when  he  died,  was 
 canonized  by  posterity  and  dubbed  "  The  Tongue  of  the  Unseen  World." 
 The  most  rigorous  Muslims  now  read  and  admire  his  poetry,  which  they 
 regard  as  a  mine  of  spiritual  truth.  To  do  this,  they  were  compelled  to 
 find  some  means  of  explaining  away  many  things  which,  in  their  literal 
 sense,  could  not  fail  to  scandalize  a  good  Muhammadan.  Hence  this 
 absurd  system  of  exegesis,  and  hence  these  wearisome  commentaries.  On 
 the  other  hand,  it  is  going  much  too  far  to  state  (as  some  European 
 scholars  have  done)  that  when  Hafiz  sings  of  wine,  intoxication,  beauti- 
 ful cup-bearers,  and  the  like,  his  words  are  always  meant  literally  and 
 never  allegorically.  Allegory  and  metaphor  there  is  in  abundance;  the 
 error  of  the  Muslim  commentators  lies  in  their  total  rejection  of  all 
 save  metaphor,  and  their  strained  attempts  to  wrest  from  every  line  an 
 
 VOL.     I,  Y 
 
322  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 allef^orical  meaning  by  the  application  of  false  and  unnatural  canons  of 
 interpretation. 
 
 To  make  clearer  what  I  have  said,  let  me  first  give  you  an  instance  of 
 the  style  of  interpretation  adopted  by  the  orthodox  commentator,  and 
 then  explain  how,  in  my  opinion,  the  allegorical  and  the  literal  are  blended, 
 according  as  the  mystic  or  the  hedonist  temperament  of  the  poet  pre- 
 dominates. 
 
 Here,  first  of  all,  is  a  translation  of  two  couplets  of  Hafiz  : — 
 
 "  Quick,   O  cupbearer,    for  sorrow  lies  in  amlnish  for  us  ; 
 O  minstrel,   continue  that  air  which  you  are  playing  ! 
 Give  me  wine,  for  the  harp  bent  down  its  heail  to  my  ear,  and  said, 
 *  Enjoy  yourself,  and  hearken  to  the  counsel  of  this  stooping  old  man.'  " 
 
 Here  is  the  "  spiritual  meaning  "  of  the  above  lines  according  to  one  of 
 the  commentaries  above  alluded  to  : — 
 
 "  O  my  kind  spiritual  preceptor,  who  art  the  cupbearer  of  the  wine  of 
 love,  agreeably  to  the  sense  of  '  be  speedy  in  -prayer  before  death,'  advance 
 me  by  thy  kindness  one  step  forward  in  the  ascent  towards  spiritual 
 verities,  for  by  reason  of  our  lusts  and  the  devil  grief  and  wretchedness 
 are  lying  in  hiding  and  ambush  for  us.  O  thou  who  givest  joy  to  the 
 heart  with  Divine  knowledge,  keep  us  in  this  lofty  truth  which  thou 
 bestowest !  O  cupbearer  of  the  wine  of  unity,  ever  give  us  wine,  for  that 
 spiritual  elder,  whose  back  is  bent  in  traversing  difficult  paths,  and  who 
 smooths  the  road  for  us,  whispered  into  my  ear,  *  Pass  thy  life  happily  in 
 the  joy  of  love,  grieving  not  for  aught,  and  hearken  to  the  words  of  divine 
 love  and  wisdom  from  true  spiritual  teachers,  not  from  vain  pretenders.'  " 
 
 Now  let  me  give  you  an  illustration  of  how,  as  I  believe,  the  literal  and 
 mystical  elements  are  combined  in  these  odes,  and  how  the  poet,  at  once 
 keenly  alive  to  the  beauties  of  nature,  and  strongly  inclined  towards 
 mysticism,  passes  in  his  verse  from  one  to  the  other.  It  is  spring,  when 
 the  usually  barren,  stony  soil  has  clad  itself,  as  though  to  celebrate  the 
 New  Year's  festival,^  in  unwonted  verdure.  The  poet,  seated  in  some 
 fair  garden,  bright  with  the  rose,  the  narcissus,  the  judas-tree,  and  a 
 hundred  other  flowers,  inhales  with  rapture  the  soft,  sweet-scented  air 
 freshened  by  the  recent  rain  and  warmed  by  the  strengthening  sun. 
 Moved  by  the  beauty  of  the  scene  and  the  charm  of  the  season,  he  feels 
 the  poetic  spirit  stir  within  him,  and  in  a  few  vivid  and  harmonious  verses 
 gives  expression  to  the  emotions  which  these  inspire.  Suddenly  the  sweet 
 notes  of  the  nightingale  Aill  on  his  ear,  and,  as  he  listens  to  its  thrilling 
 plaintive  song,  his  poetic  fancy  pictures  it  as  a  lover  eloquently  pleading 
 with  the  beloved.  The  beloved  is  that  opening  rose-bud,  coyly  peeping 
 from  behind  its  veil  of  leaves,  which,  heedless  of  the  passionate  entreaty 
 of  the  nightingale,  coquets  wiili  the  passing  breeze  from  the  mountains. 
 
 'The  Persian  New  Year  (Nawnh),  still  the  great  national  festival,  is,  of  course, 
 of  Zoroastrian,  not  Muhamni.adan  origin.  It  c<jrresponds  with  the  vernal  equinox, 
 when  the  sun  enters  the  sign  of  Aries,  and  marks  the  commencement  of  the  old  solar 
 year. 
 
s6'f//sm.  32  j 
 
 The  bird's  song  takes  a  new  meaning  to  the  poet's  fancy ;  it  is  no  longer 
 only  pleading  entreaty ;  it  is  the  cry  of  a  faithful  lover  slighted  and  scorned 
 in  favour  of  a  passing  stranger  by  that  loved  one  for  a  glimpse  of  whose 
 face  he  has  pined  and  yearned  through  the  cheerless  winter  of  separa- 
 tion. Then  the  poet's  mind  reverts  to  a  time  when  he  too  loved  like  the 
 nightingale,  and  when  in  the  spring  season  he  was  wont  to  pace  these  same 
 garden  walks  with  his  beloved  by  his  side.  His  heart  saddens  as  he  con- 
 trasts his  present  solitude  with  that  sweet  companionship,  and  his  poem 
 bursts  into  passionate  entreaty  for  the  return  of  the  lost  love.  Then  from 
 the  absent  friend  the  thoughts  of  the  Siifi  bard  inevitably  turn  to  God — 
 the  "True  Beloved  "  —  from  whom  all  that  is  beautiful  borrows  its  beauty, 
 as  from  Him  all  tliat  exists  has  its  being.  Then  the  poem  rises  into  a 
 loftier  and  nobler  strain  ;  rose,  'zephyr,  nightingale,  and  beloved  alike, 
 recognised  as  nought  but  mirrors  reflecting  each  an  infinitesimally  small 
 fraction  of  the  Divine  glory,  seem  to  merge  into  the  light  of  the  One  True 
 Being  ;  and,  in  adoring  ecstasy,  the  poet  cries  : — 
 
 "  Now  we  call  Thee  the  wine  and  and  now  the  wine-cup  ; 
 Now  we  call  Thee  the  bait  and  now  the  snare  ; 
 On  the  tablet  of  the  universe  is  no  letter  save  Thy  name  ; 
 ]}y  which  name,  then,   shall  we  invoke  Thee  ? " ' 
 
 What  I  have  just  said  applies  specially  to  the  lyric  poets.  The 
 apologues  and  anecdotes  contained  in  the  Masn^vi  of  Jalalu  'd-Din — that 
 mine  of  mysticism — are  professedly,  and,  as  a  rule,  obviously  allegorical, 
 the  greater  portion  of  them  being  fiiUy  elucidated  in  the  text.  The 
 Gulshaii-i-Rdz  ("  Rose  Garden  of  Mystery ")  sets  forth  in  a  thousand 
 couplets  the  inner  doctrine  of  the  Siif|s  and  the  meaning  of  the  allegories 
 and  similes  employed  by  them  in  the  clearest  and  most  definite  manner 
 possible. 
 
 We  have  now  to  consider  the  actual  living  representatives  of  Siifiism. 
 Amongst  these  are,  of  course,  niystical  poets.  Stiff,  or  half  Stiff  philoso- 
 phers, and  pious  quietists  and  recluses  ;  in  other  words,  members  of  the 
 three  classes  I  have  already  discussed.  Concerning  these  I  need  add 
 nothing  to  what  has  been  said  above.  It  remains  only  to  speak  of  the 
 relation  which  subsists  between  the  various  dervish  orders  and  Stiffism. 
 These  dervish  orders  are,  as  you  are  probably  aware,  very  numerous 
 throughout  the  Muhammadan  East.  The  best  known  are  the  Mevlet'is,  or 
 "  Dancing  Dervishes,"  and  the  RufiVis,  or  "  Howling  Dervishes."  Besides 
 these  there  are  the  Kadiris,  the  Bekidshis,  the  Oweysis,  and  a  host  of 
 others.  The  regular  members  of  many  of  these  orders  wear  a  special 
 dress,  and  each  order  traces  back  its  traditions,  customs,  and  methods  of 
 devotion  to  some  great  saint  or  spiritual  teacher.  Though  differing  in 
 these  and  other  points  of  detail,  recognising  their  own  special  leaders  and 
 instructors,  and  observing  their  own  particular  forms  and  degrees,  these 
 orders   are,  generally  speaking,  well   disposed   also  towards  one  another. 
 
 ^  J  ami. 
 
324  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 The  dervish  may,  perhaps,  be  best  defined  in  European  terms  as  an  amal- 
 gam of  tlie  friar  and  the  freemason.  He  differs  from  the  former  in  the 
 greater  laxity  of  his  connection  with  the  established  religion  (by  which,  in- 
 deed, he  is  often  regarded  with  suspicion,  if  not  with  downright  disappro- 
 bation), and  from  the  latter  in  his  more  essentially  religious  character  and 
 lack  of  definite  pass-words  and  degrees  of  initiation.  This  being  his 
 general  character,  how  does  he  stand  with  regard  to  Sufiism  ?  That  he 
 considers  himself  a  Siifi,  there  is  no  doubt,  for  he  traces  back  the  traditions 
 of  his  order  to  some  great  Siifi  teacher  of  yore,  makes  continual  use  of  the 
 phraseology  of  the  Sufis,  and  generally  wears  that  woollen  raiment  from 
 which  the  Siifi's  derived  their  name.  Nevertheless  there  is  a  great  differ- 
 ence between  him  and  the  masters  he  reveres.  What  they  wore,  they 
 wore  to  show  that  they  cared  nothing  for  the  world  and  its  luxuries  ;  what 
 he  wears,  he  wears  to  show  that  he  is  a  Sufi.  They  were  Siifi's  because 
 they  cared  naught  for  outward  forms ;  he,  in  so  far  as  he  learns  to  care  for 
 that  very  dress  which  originally  typified  this  disregard  for  forms,  ceases  to 
 be  a  Siifi.  Many  perfect  Siifi's  are  to  be  found  amongst  the  dervishes  ; 
 but  too  often  the  dervish  dress  is  but  a  new  kind  of  formalism,  even  when 
 it  be  not  (as  it  sometimes  is)  a  cloak  for  idleness,  antinomianism,  and 
 even  libertinism. 
 
 Having  now  cleared  the  ground,  and  determined  what  true  Sufiism  is, 
 and  whence  we  must  seek  the  elucidation  of  its  doctrine,  we  may  proceed 
 to  attack  the  great  and  final  question,  "  What  does  it  teach?"  In  dis- 
 cussing this,  I  do  not  propose  to  consider  any  of  those  hybrid  combina- 
 tions of  Sufiism  with  orthodox  Muhammadanism  on  the  one  hand  and 
 with  Greek  philosojjhy  on  the  other,  at  the  existence  of  which  I  have 
 already  hinted.  1  shall  confine  myself  to  a  consideration  of  the  main 
 tenets  of  what  I  believe  to  be  the  purest  and  most  essential  Siifi  doctrine, 
 and  I  shall,  as  far  as  possible,  substantiate  the  statements  which  I  shall 
 have  to  lay  before  you  by  (luotations  from  the  best  Siifi  writers  and 
 poets. 
 
 The  first  point  which  I  wish  to  insist  u[)on  is  that  true  Sufiism,  though 
 as  a  rule  associated  with  an  outward  profession  of  Islam,  regards  all 
 religions  as  more  or  less  perfect  or  imperfect  shadowings  forth  of  the 
 great  central  truth  which  it  seeks  fully  to  comprehend,  and  conseciuently 
 recognises  all  of  them  as  good  in  proportion  to  the  measure  of  truth  which 
 they  contain.  "  The  ways  unto  God,"  says  a  Siifi  aphorism,  "  arc  as 
 the  number  of  the  breaths  of  the  sons  of  man."  We  might  therefore 
 characterize  Siiffism  as  latitudinarian  and  eclectic,  were  it  not  that  it  is 
 free  from  the  apathy  or  agnosticism  often  implied  in  the  former  term,  and 
 that  it  rather  adaj^s  all  religions  to  itself  than  itself  to  all  religions. 
 "  Except  the  Lord  build  the  house,  they  that  build  it  labour  in  vain."  No 
 faith,  no  religion,  no  system,  could  endure  unless  it  had  caught  some  ray 
 of  the  Truth  which  is  the  life  of  all.  An  utter  lie  cannot  live,  for  it  is  the 
 child  of  Not-being  or  Unreality,   and    death    and   disintegration  are   its 
 
SUFIJSM.  325 
 
 heritage.  From  every  religion,  then,  something  may  be  learned  by  him 
 who  has  eyes  to  perceive  it.  All  have  the  same  goal  in  view,  all  seek 
 after  the  same  Friend.  To  adopt  something  of  the  language  of  the  Siifi's, 
 the  Beloved  is  one,  the  lovers  are  many  ;  one  describes  the  arch  of  the 
 eyebrows,  one  the  dimpled  chin,  one  the  rosy  cheek,  one  the  dark 
 tresses  : — 
 
 "  All  this  turmoil  and  strife  in  the  world  are  from  love  of  Him ; 
 It  hath  now  become  known  that  the  fountain-head  of  the  strife  is  One." 
 
 Fari'du  'd-I)in  'Attar  in  his  mystical  poem  called  "  The  Language  of  the 
 Birds,"  tells  how  the  mysterious  S'lmurgh  (which,  in  his  allegory,  typifies 
 God)  passed  over  the  land  of  China,  and  let  fall  thereon  one  of  its 
 feathers.  This  single  feather  filled  China  with  wonder  and  delight,  and 
 every  one  who  saw  it  sought  to  preserve  for  himself  in  sketch  or  painting 
 some  semblance  of  its  beauty.  Therefore,  saith  a  tradition  attributed  to 
 the  Prophet,  "  seek  knowledge  evoi  unto  Chi?ia,'^  for  there,  as  in  every 
 land,  be  it  never  so  remote  or  ui>couth,  shall  traces  of  that  for  which  all 
 seek  be  found. 
 
 Hatif,  in  a  most  beautiful  poem,  wherein  he  describes  how  he  seeks  and 
 
 finds  God  everywhere,  and  amongst  all  creeds  and  conditions  of  men,  thus 
 
 addresses  a  Christian  with  whom   he  holds  converse  :  "  How  long  will  ye 
 
 miss  the  way  to  the  Unity?     How  long  will  ye  place  the  stigma  of  the 
 
 Trinity  on  the  One  ?  "     And  this  is  the  reply  which  he  puts  in  the  mouth 
 
 of  the  Christian  : — 
 
 "'If  thou  art  acquainted  with  the  mystery  of  the  Unity, 
 Seek  not  to  denounce  us  as  unbelievers. 
 On  three  mirrors  did  the  Eternal  Beauty 
 Cast  rays  from  His  refulgent  countenance. 
 Silk  becomes  not  three  [dilTerent  things] 
 If  thou  callest  it  parniydn  and  harlr  and  parandJ'  * 
 \Vhilst  we  were  thus  talking,   from  another  quarter 
 This  refrain  pealed  forth  from  the  [church-]  bell, 
 '  lie  is  One,   and  there  is  nought  but   Him, 
 There  is  no  God  save  Him  alone.'  " 
 
 So  in  like  manner  sings  '  Umar  Khayyam  : — 
 
 "Idol-temple  and  A'a^lm  are  alike  the  house  of  worship  ; 
 The  ringing  of  the  [church-]  bell  is  the  hymn  of  worship  ; 
 Girdle  and  church,  rosary  and  crucifix. 
 Are  all  in  truth  the  tokens  of  worship." 
 
 Even  from  Paganism  we  may  learn  new  truth,  for,  says  Mahmud  ot 
 Shabistar,  in  his  "  Rose-garden  of  Mystery  ": — 
 
 "If  the  jNIusulman  understood  what  the  idol  [really]  was, 
 He  would  know  that  there  was  true  religion  in  idolatry." 
 
 "Any  object  of  adoration,"  says  Hafi'z,  "is  better  than  self-worship"; 
 for  at  least  it  serves  to  lift  the  worship[)er  out  of  himself  and  lead  him 
 towards  that  One  who  is  proclaimed  and  hymned  by  all,  but  described  by 
 none,  because,  should  any  learn  to  know  Him  as  He  is, — 
 
 '  Three  words  all  signifying  silk. 
 
326  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 "lie  taketh  the  tongue  from  the  sharers  of  the  secret, 
 Lest  they  should  repeat  the  secret  of  the  King."  • 
 
 Let  us  hear  what  'Umar  Khayyam  has  to  say  about  idolatry  : — 
 
 "The  idol  said  to  the  idolater,   'O  my  servant, 
 Xnowesl  thou  for  what  reason  thou  hast  become  mine  adorer  ? 
 On  me  hath  shone  in  his  beauty  that  One 
 Who  looketh  forth  from  thee,  O  my  beholder  !" 
 
 The  first  and  most  essential  quahfication  of  the  seeker  after  God  is 
 love ;  without  this  he  can  do  nothing,  and  all  else  will  avail  him  naught. 
 Jami  says  : — 
 
 "Be  thou  the  thrall  of  love  ;    make  this  thine  object  ; 
 
 For  this  one  thing  seemeth  to  wise  men  worthy. 
 
 Be  thou  love's  thrall,  that  thou  mayst  win  thy  freedom, 
 
 Bear  on  thy  breast  its  brand,   that  thou  mayst  blithe  be. 
 
 Love's  wine  will  warm  thee  and  will  steal  thy  senses ; 
 
 All  else  is  soulless  stupor  and  self-seeking. 
 
 Remembrances  of  love  refresh  the  lover, 
 
 Whose  voice  when  lauding  love  e'er  waxeth  loudest. 
 
 But  that  he  drained  a  draught  from  this  deep  goblet 
 
 In  the  wide  worlds  not  one  would  wot  of  INlajnun. 
 
 Thousands  of  wise  and  wary  men  have  wended 
 
 Through  life,  who,  since  for  love  they  had  no  liking, 
 
 Have  left  nor  name,  nor  note,  nor  sign,  nor  story, 
 .  Nor  tale  for  future  time,   nor  fame  for  fortune. 
 
 Sweet  songsters  'mitlst  the  birds  there  are  in  plenty 
 
 Whose  meed  of  praise  men's  mouths  are  mute  to  utter, 
 
 But,   when  love's  lore  is  told  by  the  love-learned. 
 
 Of  moth  and  nightingale  they  most  make  mention. 
 
 Though  in  this  world  a  hundred  tasks  thou  tryest, 
 
 'Tis  love  alone  which  from  thyself  will  loose  thee. 
 
 Even  from  earthly  love  thy  face  avert  not, 
 
 Since  to  the  Real  it  may  serve  to  raise  thee. 
 
 Ere  A,  B,   C  are  rightly  apprehended. 
 
 How  canst  thou  con  the  pages  of  thy  Kur'an  ? 
 
 A  sage  (so  heard  I),  unto  whom  a  scholar 
 
 Came  craving  counsel  on  the  course  before  him, 
 
 Said,  '  If  thy  steps  be  strangers  to  love's  pathways. 
 
 Depart,  learn  love,   and  then  return  before  me  ! 
 
 For,  shouldst  thou  fear  to  drink  wine  from  Form's  flagon, 
 
 Thou  canst  not  drain  the  draught  of  the  Ideal. 
 
 But  yet  beware  !     Be  not  by  Form  belated  ; 
 
 Strive  rather  with  all  speed  the  bridge  to  traverse. 
 
 If  to  the  bourn  thou  fain  wouldst  bear  thy  baggage 
 
 Upon  the  bridge  let  not  thy  footsteps  linger. '" - 
 
 i 
 The  great  practical   aim,  then,  is  to  escape  from   self,  and  until   this 
 
 lesson  is  learnt  no  further  advance  can  be  made.  Worship,  love,  devotion 
 to  any  one  or  anything,  are  therefore  good  in  so  far  as  they  conduce  to 
 self-renunciation  and  self-forgetfulness.  Self  is  at  once  the  primal  source 
 of  suffering  and  of  sin.  That  it  is  the  source  of  suffering  is  a  fact  recog- 
 nised by  many  who  know  not  the  true  remedy.  Jaldlu'd-Di'n  Riimf 
 says  :— 
 
 "  Thou  takcst  on  thyself  the  shame  of  baus:;  and  wine 
 In  order  that  thou  may'st  escape  for  a  moment  from  thyself." 
 
 That  self  is  the  immediate  cause  of  every  form  of  sin  is  an  evident  fact, 
 *  Nizimi,  SikanJar-tidma.  *   Ytisufii  ZtiUykhd. 
 
SUFIiSM.  327 
 
 taught,  more  or  less  clearly,  by  all  the  purer  forms  of  religion.  What, 
 then,  is  this  self,  and  by  what  means  and  whither  shall  we  flee  therefrom  ? 
 To  answer  this  question,  it  is  necessary  to  take  a  more  general  view  than 
 we  have  yet  done  of  the  Siifi  conception  of  God,  of  the  universe,  and  of 
 what  is  meant  by  evil. 
 
 To  doubt  the  existence  of  God — by  which  term  I  mean  an  Infinite  and 
 All-pervading  Intelligence  independent  of  what  we  call  "matter" — is  a  thing 
 which  never  occurs  to  the  Siifi.  He  may,  and  generally  does,  entertain 
 doubts  as  to  the  reality  of  the  phenomenal  universe ;  but  to  him  God  is 
 not  merely  tiie  greatest  but  the  only  Reality.  In  other  words,  he  regards 
 God  as  identical  with  Pure  Being.  Thus,  from  the  philosophical  point 
 of  view,  Sufi'ism  is  pantheistic.  Now  the  term  pantheism  is  used  in  two 
 quite  different  senses,  which  must  be  very  carefully  distinguished.  There 
 is  a  materialistic  pantheism,  which  dignifies  with  the  name  of  God  the 
 mere  sum  and  totality  of  the  universe.  There  is  also  a  spiritualistic 
 pantheism,  which  sees  in  the  universe  nought  but  a  dim  reflection  "  as  in 
 a  glass  darkly  "  of  the  Infinite  Attributes  of  that  Invisible,  Omnipotent, 
 Omnipresent  Spirit  of  whom  alone  reality  and  existence  can  be  predicated. 
 These  two  forms  of  pantheism  differ  as  light  from  darkness.  To  the  one, 
 the  real  is  the  apparent,  the  phenomenal,  the  material  :  to  the  other,  it  is 
 the  unseen  or  spiritual  alone  which  really  exists,  and  this  solid-seeming 
 world  is  but — 
 
 "Such  stuff 
 As  dreams  are  made  of." 
 
 Siifiism,  then,  is  an  idealistic  pantheism.  To  the  Siifi  everything  speaks 
 of  God.  "  There  is  nothing  that  does  not  celebrate  His  praise."^  He  is 
 everywhere  and  in  everything,  "nearer  unto  us  than  the  jugular  vein,"  ^ 
 and  hidden  only  because  so  evident.  "  Show  me  what  God  is  not,"  said 
 a  Siifi  to  one  who  questioned  him  concerning  the  Divine  Being,  "and  I 
 will  show  you  what  He  is."     jNIahmiid  of  Shabistar  says  : — 
 
 "To  liim  wliose  soul  is  illuminated 
 All  the  universe  is  the  Book  of  God  Most  Iligh."  ® 
 
 And  Jami  says  : — 
 
 "Thou  art  Absolute  Being:  all  else  is  naught  but  a  pliaivtasm^ 
 For  in  Thy  universe  all  things  are  one. 
 Thy  world-captivating  Beauty,   to  display  its  perfections, 
 Ap]icars  in  thousands  of  mirrors,  but  it  is  one. 
 Although  Thy  beauty  accompanies  all  the  beautiful, 
 In  truth  the  Unique  and  Incomparable  Heart-enslaver  is  one." 
 
 This  last  quotation  illustrates  another  point.  I  have  already  hinted 
 that  Sufi'ism  has  two  aspects — a  philosophical,  and  a  mystical  or  devotional. 
 From  the  former  point  of  view,  God  is  Pure  Being  ;  from  the  latter.  He  is 
 Absolute  Beauty,  of  which  all  earthly  beauty,  whether  it  be  beauty  of  form, 
 of  thought,  or  of  action,  is  but  a  dim  reflection.  Our  finite  minds  cannot 
 comprehend  the  Infinite :  we  can  but  speak  in  metaphor,  according  as  one 
 
 *    Kur'an,  xvii.  46.  -    Kur"an,  1.  15.  '  Gulshan-i-Rdi". 
 
328  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 or  other  aspect  of  that  Infinite  Being  reveals  itself  to  iis.  Having  regard 
 to  the  power  of  God,  some  call  Him  "King"  ;  meditating  on  His  loving- 
 kindness,  others  call  Him  "Father";  overwhelmed  by  His  beauty,  the 
 Siifi,  in  common  with  other  mystics,  conceives  of  Him  above  all  things 
 as  the  Eternally  Beautiful.  Hence  do  the  Siifi  hymns  borrow  the 
 impassioned  language  of  the  lover,  and  hence  do  they  invoke  God  for 
 the  most  part  as  "  the  Friend,"  and  "  the  Beloved."  Yes,  He  is  the  All- 
 Beautiful,  and  the  whole  universe  is  the  mirror  of  His  Beauty. 
 
 But  was  it  always  thus?  Did  the  phenomenal  ever  stand  as  a  glass 
 reflecting  the  Real?  No  ;  "God  was,  and  there  was  naught  beside  Him," 
 says  a  tradition  which  is  one  of  the  cornerstones  of  the  Siifi  doctrine. 
 Ere  time  began,  God  was  alone  in  unrevealed  and  solitary  splendour. 
 "  I  was  a  Hidden  Treasure,  and  I  desired  to  be  known,  so  I  created 
 creation  in  order  that  I  might  be  known."  In  these  words,  according  to 
 another  tradition,  did  God  reveal  the  object  for  which  He  caused  the 
 phenomenal  world  to  take  form  and  semblance  of  being.  An  extract 
 from  Jami's  Ymnf  u  Zukykhd  will  best  serve  at  once  as  a  commentary  on 
 the  above  texts,  and  a  specimen  of  the  strange,  and,  at  times,  almost  start- 
 ling metaphors  adopted  by  the  Siifi's. 
 
 "In  solitude,  where  Being  signless  dwelt, 
 And  all  the  universe  still  dormant  lay 
 Concealed  in  selflessness,  One  Being  was, 
 Exempt  from  '  I  '  or  '  'I'hou  '-ness,  and  apart 
 From  all  duality  ;  Beauty  Supreme, 
 Unmanifest,  except  unto  Itself 
 
 By  Its  own  light,  yet  fraught  with  power  to  charm 
 The  souls  of  all  ;  concealed  in  the  Unseen, 
 An  Essence  pure,  imstained  by  aught  of  ill. 
 No  mirror  to  reflect  Its  loveliness, 
 Nor  comb  to  touch  Its  locks  ;  the  morning  breeze 
 Ne'er  stirred  Its  tresses  ;  no  coliyrium 
 Lent  lustre  to  Its  eyes  ;  no  rosy  checks 
 O'crshadowed  by  dark  curls  like  hyacinth 
 Nor  peach-like  down  were  there  ;  no  dusky  mole 
 Adorned  Its  face  ;  no  eye  had  yet  beheld 
 Its  image.     To  Itself  it  sang  of  love 
 In  wf)r(lless  measures.      By   Itself  it  cast 
 The  (lie  of  love.      But  Beauty  cannot  brook 
 Concealment  and  the  veil,  nor  ]^aticnt  rest 
 Unseen  and  unadmired  :    'twill  burst  all  bonds, 
 And  from  Its  prison-casement  to  the  world 
 Reveal   Itself.     See  where  the  tulip  grows 
 In  upland  meadows,  how  in  balmy  spring 
 It  decks  itself;  and  how  amidst  its  thorns 
 'Jlie  wild  rose  rends  its  garment,   and  reveals 
 Its  loveliness.     Thou  too,  when  some  rare  thought, 
 Or  beauteous  image,   or  deep  mystery 
 Flashes  across  thy  soul,  canst  not  endure 
 To  let  it  ]iass,   but  holdst  it,   that  perchance 
 In  speech  or  writing  thou  mayst  send  it  forth 
 To  charm  the  world.     Wherever  beauty  dwells 
 .Such  is  its  nature,  and  its  heritage 
 From  Everlasting  Beauty,  which  emerged 
 From  realms  of  jiurity  to  shine  upon 
 The  worlds,  and  all  the  souls  which  dwell  therein. 
 
SUFIISM.  329 
 
 One  gleam  fell  from  It  on  the  univer^^e 
 
 And  on,  the  angels,  and  this  single  ray 
 
 Dazzled  the  angels,  till  their  senses  whirled 
 
 Like  the  revolving  sky.     In  diverse  forms 
 
 Each  mirror  showed  it  forth,  and  everywhere 
 
 Its  praise  was  chanted  in  new  harmonies. 
 
 The  Cherul)im,  enraptured,,  sought  for  songs 
 
 Of  praise.     The  spirits  who  explore  the  depths 
 
 Of  boundless  seas,  wherein  the  heavens  swim 
 
 Like  some  small  boat,  cried  with  one  mighty  voice, 
 
 '  Praise  to  the  Lord  of  all  the  universe  ! ' 
 
 Each;  speck  of  matter  did  I:Ie  constitute 
 
 A  mirror,  causing  each,  one  to  reflect 
 
 Tile  beauty  of  His  visage.     From  the  rose 
 
 Flashed  forth   His  beauty,   and  the  nightingale 
 
 Beholding  it,  loved  madly.     From  that  fire 
 
 The  candle  drew  the  lustre  which  beguiles 
 
 The  moth  to  immolation.     On  the  sun 
 
 His  beauty  shone,  and  straightway  from  the  wave 
 
 The  lotus  reared  its  head.     Each  shining  lock 
 
 Of  Leyli's  hair  attracted  Majni'm's  heart 
 
 Because  some  ray  divine  reflected  shone 
 
 In  her  fair  face.     'Twas  He  to  Shirin's  lips 
 
 Who  lent  that  sweetness  which  had  power  to  steal 
 
 The  heart  from  Parvi?,  and  from  Farhad  life. 
 
 His  Beauty  everywhere  doth  show  itself, 
 
 And  through  the  forms  of  earthly  beauties  shines 
 
 Obscured  as  through  a  veil.     He  did  reveal 
 
 His  face  through  Joseph's  coat,   and  so  destroyed 
 
 Zideykha's  peace.     Where'er  thou  seest  a  veil, 
 
 Beneath  that  veil  He  hides.     Whatever  heart 
 
 Doth  yield  to  love,   He  charms  it.     In  His  love 
 
 The  heart  hath  life.     Longing  for  Him,  the  soul 
 
 Hath  victory.     Tiiat  heart  which  seems  to  love 
 
 The  fair  ones  of  this  world  loves  Him  alone.. 
 
 Beware  !  say  not,   '  He  is  All-Beautiful, 
 
 And  we  His  lovers  !'     Thou  art  but  the  glass, 
 
 And  He  the  face  confronting  it,  which  casts 
 
 Its  image  in  the  mirror.     He  alone 
 
 Is  manifest,   and  Thou  in  truth  art  hid. 
 
 I'ure  love,   like  beauty,   coming  but  from  Him 
 
 Reveals  itself  in  thee..     If  steadfastly 
 
 Thou  canst  regard,  thou  wilt  at  length  perceive 
 
 He  is  the  mirror  also  ;  He  alike 
 
 The  Treasure  and  the  Casket.     '  I '  and  '  Thou ' 
 
 Have  here  no  place,  and  are  but  phantasies 
 
 Vain  and  unreal.     Silence  !  For  this  tale 
 
 Is  endless,   and  no  eloquence  hath  power 
 
 To  speak  of  Him.      'Tis  best  for  us  to  love 
 
 And  suffer  silently,  being  as  nought." 
 
 The  passage  above  cited  contains  as  clear  a  statement  of  the  Silfi  doc- 
 trine of  creation  as  we  could  possibly  wish  for.  In  the  beginning,  ere  time 
 was,  and  ere  plurality  was,  Goil,  Absolttte  Being,  Absolute  Beauty,  Pure 
 Spirit  (for  all  these  terms  signify  the  same  essence),  existed  alone,  quies- 
 cent and  unmanifested.  Why  He  should  desire  to  manifest  Himself  is 
 a  mystery  transcending  human  reason.  Jami  illustrates  rather  than  ex- 
 plains this  mystery  by  adducing  instances  of  the  universal  desire  of  being 
 revealed  which  is  innate  in  the  beautiful.      If,  for  example,   a  beautiful 
 
330  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 thought  is  conceived  in  the  mind  of  man,  it  is  not  content  to  be  hid,  but 
 seeks  utterance,  just  as  a  beautiful  face  desires  to  be  seen.  This  desire 
 exists  in  all  forms  or  manifestations  of  the  Beautiful,  because  it  is  an 
 essential  attribute  of  that  One,  who  is  alike  Perfect  Being  and  Eternal 
 Beauty.  The  keystone  of  all  that  follows  is  this  inexplicable  and  funda- 
 mental axiom. 
 
 Granted,  then,  that  manifestation  is  to  take  place,  by  what  means  can  it 
 be  effected?  A  thing  can  only  be  known  by  being  placed  in  juxta- 
 position with  its  antithesis.  We  could  not,  for  instance,  apprehend  the 
 nature  of  light  were  it  not  for  the  existence  of  darkness.  To  talk  of  the 
 "existence  of  darkness"  is,  however,  according  to  Siifi  thought,  erroneous. 
 Darkness  cannot  truly  be  said  to  exist  at  all ;  it  is  merely  the  negation  of 
 light,  the  Not-Light.  According  to  this  view,  we  restate  and  generalize 
 the  above  proposition  as  follows  : — "  A  thing  can  only  be  known  by  its 
 negation."  Here  at  once  we  find  ourselves  in  jx^ssession  of  the  solution 
 offered  by  the  Siifi  to  the  gteat  Mystery  of  Evil.  "  God  desireth  to  be 
 known,"  says  he  ;  "  things  are  known  only  through  their  opposites  ;  God  is 
 good  ;  therefore  He  can  only  be  known  by  the  appearance  of  evil.  The 
 Mystery  of  Evil  is  therefore  identical  with  the  Mystery  of  Creation." 
 
 Is  the  Siifi,  then,  a  dualist,  a  Manichean?  Emphatically  no.  For  since 
 God  is  not  only  Absolute  Good  btit  also  Absolute  Being,  so  evil  is  essen- 
 tially not  only  the  Not-good  but  the  Not-being.  In  other  words,  evil  is  an 
 illusion  necessitated  by  the  conditions  of  manifestation ;  it  is  essentially 
 the  unreal,  the  false,  the  impermanent.  The  devil,  then,  if  we  wish  so 
 to  personify  evil,  cannot  be  more  fitly  described  than  as  the  "  Father  of 
 lies,"  or,  in  other  words,  supreme  illusion  and  utter  unreality.  Wc  cannot, 
 moreover,  speak  of  absolute  Evil,  since  it  is  essentially  transitory  and  con- 
 ditional.    Thus  Jalalu'd-Din  Riimi  says  :— ^ 
 
 "There  is,  then,  no  Absolirte  Evil  in  the  universe  ; 
 Evil  is  but  relative;  recognise  this  fact  also." 
 
 We  have  now  spoken  of  Absolute  Being,  which  is  absolute  Good,  or,  in 
 other  words,  God  ;  and  of  Not-Being,  which  stands  in  antithesis  thereto, 
 and  is,  relatively  speaking,  evil,  but,  truly  regarded,  naught  but  a  means 
 necessary  to  the  manifestation  of  Absolute  Good.  "  What,"  we  now  ask,  "  is 
 this  Phenomenal,  Material,  or  Contingent  Universe  wherein  we  move?  "  It 
 is  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  rellection  of  Being  on  Not-Being,  a  phantasm 
 evoked  by  the  Divine  Idea  from  formless  chaos,  a  commingling  of  the 
 good  with  the  evil  for  the  making  manifest  of  God.  It  is  not  substantially, 
 then,  qua  matter  that  the  phenomenal  universe  can  be  said  to  exist,  but 
 ideally,  qua  a  manifestation  of  the  Divine  Mind.  An  illustration  may 
 serve  to  render  this  clearer.  We  see  the  reflection  of  the  sun  in  a  pool  of 
 water  ;  this  reflection  reveals  to  us  something  of  the  true  nature  of  the  sun, 
 and  so  far  it  is  real.  But  it  reveals  to  us  only  the  attributes  of  the  sun, 
 and  not  its  essence.  In  so  far  as  it  reflects  the  sun  it  is  real,  and  all  that 
 it  has  of  reality  it  borrows  from  the  sun.     On  the  other  hand,  it  has  no  in- 
 
SUFllSM.  331 
 
 dependent  existence,  is  totally  dependant  on  the  sun  for  that  semblance  of 
 existence  which  it  wears,  and  disappears  utterly  when  the  sun  withdraws 
 its  light;  while  the  sun  is  perfectly  independent  of  it,  stands  in  no  need  of 
 it,  and  can  reproduce  it  again  and  again  without  withdrawing  aught  from 
 itself.  Such  is  the  relation  subsisting  between  the  phenomenal  world  and 
 God,  and  he  who  regards  the  former  as  endowed  with  independent  exist- 
 ence is  like  one  who  should  declare  that  the  brightness  of  the  sun's  reflec- 
 tion in  the  water  is  inherent  in  itself  and  not  borrowed  from  the  sun 
 above.  In  a  word,  the  phenomenal  world  is  the  reflection  of  God  in  the 
 mirror  of  Not-Being. 
 
 What,  then,  is  the  position  and  nature  of  man,  the  crown  and  consum- 
 mation of  Contingent  Being  ?  A  passage  from  the  Gulshan-i-Rdz  will  best 
 answer  the  question  : — 
 
 "  Not-Being  is  the  mirror  of  Al)solule  Being, 
 
 Wiience  is  apparent  the  reflection  of  God's  splendour. 
 
 Wlien  Not- Being  became  opposed  to  Being 
 
 A  reflection  lliereof  w^as  at  Once  produced. 
 
 That   Unity  was  manifested  tlnough  this  Phirality  ; 
 
 One,   when  you  enumerate  it,   becomes  many. 
 
 Numeration,  tliough  it  has  one  for  its  basis, 
 
 Math,  notwithstanding,  never  an  end. 
 
 .Since  Not- Being  was  in  its  essence  clear 
 
 Tlirough  it  the  hidden  treasure  became  manifest. 
 
 Repeat  tlie  tradition,  '  I  was  a  Hidden  Treasure,' 
 
 Tiiat  thou  may'st  plainly  behold  the  hidden  mystery. 
 
 Not-Being  is  the  IVIinor  ;  the  universe  is  the  reflection  ;  and  man 
 
 Is  the  Personality  concealed  in  it,  like  the  eye  in  the  reflection. 
 
 Thou  art  the  eye  of  the  reflection,  while  He  [God]  is  the  light  of  the  eye ; 
 
 By  means  of  that  eye  the  Eye  of  God  beholds  itself. 
 
 The  world  is  a  man,  and  man  is  a  world  ; 
 
 No  clearer  explanation  than  this  is  pos?ible. 
 
 When  thou  lookest  well  to  the  root  of  tile  matter. 
 
 He  is  both  the  Seer,  and  the  Eye,  and  the  Vision." 
 
 O  wonderful  and  mysterious  Man  !  HOw  true  are  the  words  wherein 
 thou  art  thus  apostrophized  : — 
 
 "Thy  remedy  is  within  thyself,  yet  thou  seest  it  not; 
 Thy  pain  is  in  thyself,  but  thou  knowest  it  not. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Thou  thinkest  that  art  but  a  small  thing 
 
 Whereas  in  thee  is  involved  the  whole  Universe  !" 
 
 What,  then,  is  the  pain  which  man  suffers,  and  how  can  he  escape  there- 
 from ?  For  only  by  finding  the  cause  of  this  pain  can  he  hope  to  cure  it  \ 
 and  to  cure  it,  and  thus  gain  peace,  is  the  object  of  philosophy.  That  pain 
 is  love  of  self,  the  remedy  for  it  is  to  renounce  self,  and  the  escape  is  unto 
 God.  So  long  as  man  is  held  captive  by  the  illusion  of  self,  he  inevitably 
 suffers  from  unsatisfied  desire  and  unquenchable  craving.  Man  may  be 
 compared  to  a  mote  floating  in  the  sunlight ;  a  mote  luminous  on  its  sun- 
 ward aspect,  dark  on  its  earthward  side.  He  is  a  compound  of  the  Real 
 and  the  Unreal,  the  Good  and  the  Not-Good,  the  Light  and  the  Dark- 
 ness. If  he  looks  downwards  away  from  God,  what  does  he  see  ?  A  dark 
 shadow  of  unreality  cast  by  himself,  which  dark  shadow  he  takes  for  his 
 
JJ- 
 
 RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 true  Self,  and  whercunto  he  forthwith  unwisely  clings.  But  this  false  self, 
 this  illusion,  this  phantasm,  which  he  so  eagerly  cherishes,  is  in  fact  the 
 source  of  all  his  pain,  all  his  misery,  all  his  wickedness.  Let  him  learn  the 
 truth,  and  look  upward  to  the  One,  not  around  on  the  many,  and  least  of 
 all  downward  at  that  dark  shadow  of  unreality  which  he  takes  for  himself. 
 A\'hat  does  he  then  behold  ?  The  Light  and  nothing  but  the  Light ;  the 
 Good  and  nothing  but  the  Good  ;  God  and  nothing  but  God.  This  is  the 
 supreme  happiness,  the  ultimate  goal,  the  beatific  vision;  this,  in  a  word, 
 is  "  Annihilation  in  God."  The  drop  is  merged  in  the  Ocean  ;  the  pilgrim 
 has  reached  the  Shrine  ;  the  lover  is  united  to  the  Beloved.  "  Has  he  ceased 
 to  exist  .'* "  you  ask.  No,  he  is  one  with  Being.  "  Has  he  lost  the  friends 
 he  loved  on  earth  ?  "  No,  for  what  he  loved  in  them  was  the  reflection  of 
 that  wherewith  he  is  now  at  one.  All  that  he  ever  was  he  is,  and  far  more 
 than  that ;  all  that  he  ever  had  he  has,  and  infinitely  more.  But  what  he 
 has,  and  what  he  is,  tongue  cannot  say,  nor  ear  hear  : — 
 
 "These  pretenders  in  His  quest  are  devoid  of  knowledge, 
 For  from  him  who  has  gained  tiie  knowledgei  no  news  returns." 
 
 Much  more  would  I   fain  say  did  time  and  opportunity  allow,  but  my 
 allotted  measure  is  fulfilled,  though  what  has  been  here  set  forth — 
 
 "  Is  but  one  word  out  of  a  thousand  which  has  obtained  utterance."  * 
 
 I  will  therefore  conclude  with  a  translation  of  a  beautiful  passage  from 
 the  Masnavi  descriptive  of  the  upward  progress  of  the  soul. 
 
 "  I  died  from  the  mineral  and  became  a  plant  ; 
 I  died  from  the  plant  and  reappeared  in  an  animal  ; 
 I  died  from  the  animal  and  became  a  man  ; 
 
 Wherefore  then  should  I  fear?     When  did  I  grow  less  by  dying? 
 Ne.xt  time  I  shall  die  from  the  man 
 That  I  may  grow  the  wings  of  the  angels. 
 From  the  angel,  too,  must  I  seek  advance; 
 '  All  things  shall  perish  sane  His  Face '  ^ 
 Once  more  shall  1  wing  my  way  above  the  angels, 
 1  shall  become  that  which  entereth  not  the  imagination. 
 Then  let  me  become  naught,  naught  ;   for  tlie  harp-string 
 Crieth  unto  me   '  Verily  unto  Him  do  we  return  1  '  " 
 
 »   Hafiz.  =«  Kur'an,  xxviii    88. 
 
BABIISM. 
 
 By  Edward  G.  Browne. 
 
 The  religious  system  which  we  are  about  to  consider  is  deserving  of  an 
 attentive  examination  for  several  reasons.  It  is  no  mere  local  superstition 
 confined  to  a  few  families  or  tribes;  neither  is  it  a  national  religion,  where- 
 of the  origin  is  lost  in  the  mists  of  antiquity  ;  nor  yet  is  it  a  scheme  of 
 philosoi)hy  born  in  the  sanctum  of  the  student,  and  moving  in  a  sphere  of 
 abstract  thought  far  remote  from  the  active  world.  Seventy  years  ago  its 
 founder  was  an  infant  only  a  few  months  old  ;  fifty  years  ago  his  summons 
 was  yet  unspoken  and  his  doctrine  yet  unformed  ;  forty  years  ago  he  ter- 
 minated a  i)rophet's  life  with  a  martyr's  death,  leaving  behind  him  as  his 
 legacy  to  mankind  a  faith  which  now  numbers  its  adherents  not  by  hun- 
 dreds but  by  thousands,  which  reckons  its  martyrs  not  by  scores  but  by 
 hundreds,  and  which,  whatever  its  actual  destiny  may  be,  is  of  that  stuff 
 whereof  world-religions  are  made.  And  to  this  rank  does  it  lay  claim, 
 demanding  nothing  less  than  universal  acceptance  and  undisputed  sway, 
 not  only  in  Persia,  where  it  was  first  preached  and  where  it  underwent  that 
 baptism  of  blood  which  was  the  terror  and  wonder  even  of  those  who  pro- 
 scribed and  persecuted  it,  but  throughout  the  whole  world.  A  mighty  claim 
 indeed,  but  a  claim  which,  if  devotion  even  unto  death  and  fervour  which 
 neither  fire  nor  sword  can  quell  go  for  aught,  has  at  least  established  its 
 right  to  be  heard. 
 
 Before  proceeding  further  in  the  examination  of  the  history  and  doctrine 
 of  this  new  world-religion,  it  is  necessary  to  glance  briefly  at  the  spiritual 
 condition  of  the  country  which  gave  it  birth.  Persia,  it  is  almost  needless 
 to  state,  is  a  JMuhammadan  country.  Otlier  religions  are,  indeed,  repre- 
 sented :  there  are  a  good  many  native  Christians,  either  Armenians  or 
 Syrians  ;  there  are  a  considerable  number  of  Jews  ;  and  there  are  a  rem- 
 nant who  still,  after  the  lapse  of  twelve  centuries,  hold  firm  to  the  fallen  faith 
 of  Zoroaster.  Relatively  to  the  sum-total  of  the  population,  however,  these 
 are  a  mere  handful,  and  the  nation  as  such  is  a  Muhammadan  nation.  But 
 the  Muhammadanism  of  Persia  is  a  very  ditlferent  thing  from  that  which  pre- 
 vails elsewhere.  Tiie  Roman  Catholic  ditfers  less  from  the  Protestant  than 
 does  the  Persian  Shi'ite  from  the  Turkish  or  Egyptian  Sunni.  It  is  neither 
 necessary  nor  possible  to  consider  here  in  detail  all  these  differences ;  one 
 feature  only  of  Shi'ite  belief — the  doctrine  of  the  Imamate — demands  notice. 
 To  the  Sunni,  the  caliph,  or  visible  head  of  the  Muhammadan  Church,  is 
 nothing  more  than  a  defender  of  the  faith,  elected  by  the  suffrage  of  the 
 majority  for  the  safe-guarding  of  the  temporal  and  spiritual  interests  of 
 
 333 
 
334  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Islam.  His  appointment  is  human  rather  than  divine,  and  his  function  is 
 that  of  an  administrator  of  the  laws  rather  than  that  of  a  prophet  or  inspired 
 teacher.  Not  so  does  the  Shi'ite  regard  the  Imams,  whom  he  recognises 
 as  the  sole  successors  of  the  prophet.  The  Imam  is  divinely  called  to  his 
 lofty  office  ;  with  his  selection  and  appointment  the  choice  of  men  has 
 nothing  to  do  ;  he  is  endowed  with  supernatural  powers  and  virtues  ;  his 
 decision  is  in  all  things  absolutely  authoritative  ;  and,  in  a  word,  he  is  an 
 open  channel  of  grace  between  God  and  mankind.  Abii  Bekr,  'Umar,  and 
 'Othman,  the  first  three  caliphs  of  the  Sunni's,  are  in  the  eyes  of  the  Shi'ites 
 detestable  usurpers,  who  snatched  from  *Ali,  the  lawful  Imam,  a  power  to 
 which  they  had  no  right  and  a  position  which  they  were  not  qualified  to 
 hold.  They,  and  the  Ommayad  and  'Abbasid  caliphs,  who  persecuted  and 
 slew  the  lawful  Imams  of  the  family  of  'Ali  whom  tUey  had  first  despoiled 
 and  despited,  are  solemnly  cursed  by  every  true  Shi'ite.  Tiie  Imams  of  the 
 race  of  'Ali  are,  on  the  other  hand,  loved,  revered,  almost  adored  ;  they 
 are  given  a  rank  hardly  inferior  to  that  of  the  prophet  himself,  nay,  hardly 
 short  of  divinity ;  and  the  well-being  of  mankind  is  made  dependent  on 
 their  existence. 
 
 These  Imams  were  twelve  in  number.  The  eleventh,  Hasan  'Askari, 
 died  in  the  year  a.d.  874,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  son,  who  is  generally 
 known  as  the  "  Imam  Mahdi,"  "  the  Proof,"  or  "  the  Absent  Imam."  This 
 Imam  Mahdi  was  from  the  first  involved  in  mystery,  and  communicated 
 with  his  followers  only  indirectly  through  certain  chosen  and  trusty  repre- 
 sentatives, who  were  called  "  Gates  "  or  "  Doors  "  {Alnvdb,  pi.  of  Bah). 
 Of  these  "Gates"  or  "  ^J/fi- "  there  were  four  successively.  When  the 
 last  of  them  died,  no  one  was  appointed  to  succeed  him,  and  then  began 
 that  period  of  the  "Greater  Occultation,"  in  which,  as  the  Shi'ites  believe, 
 we  now  are.  But  the  Imam  Mahdi,  though  no  longer  accessible  to  his 
 Church,  did  not  die.  He  disappeared  from  the  eyes  of  men  in  the  year 
 A.H.  329  (a.d.  940-941),  but  he  still  lives,  hidden  in  the  mysterious  city  of 
 Jabulka,  whence,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  when  faith  waxes  weakest  and  the 
 world  is  full  of  woe  and  oppression,  he  will  issue  forth  to  restore  the  true 
 religion,  fill  the  earth  with  justice,  and  inaugurate  the  millennium.  For  this 
 long-expected  day  do  all  the  Shi'ites  wait  and  watch  eagerly  and  anxiously, 
 and  ever  when  they  mention  the  sacred  name  of  the  Imam  they  add  there- 
 to the  prayer,  "  May  God  hasten  his  glad  advent  !  " 
 
 It  is  in  the  year  a.h.  1260  (a.d.  1844),  exactly  one  thousand  years  after 
 the  Imam  Mahdi's  first  retirement  into  seclusion,  or  "  Lesser  Occultation," 
 that  the  history  of  tlie  religion  which  we  are  about  to  consider  properly 
 begins.  Before  we  proceed  to  speak  of  this,  however,  let  us  glance  briefly 
 at  the  meagre  details  which  have  reached  us  of  the  early  life  of  its  founder. 
 Mirza  'Ali  Muhammad,  afterwards  known  as  the  Bab  or  "  Gate  "  (from 
 which  title  his  followers  derive  the  name  of  Bdbi  which  they  bear),  was  born 
 at  Shiraz  in  Southern  Persia  on  October  9th,  a.d.  1820.  His  father,  Mirza 
 Rizvi,  was  by  trade  a  cloth-seller ;  but,  though  in  comparatively  humble  cir- 
 
BAb/ISM.  335 
 
 cumstances,  he  enjoyed  that  respect  which  is  ahiiost  invariably  accorded  in 
 Persia  to  a  seyyid,  or  reputed  descendant  of  the  prophet.  Mirza  'AH  Mu- 
 hammad was  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things  sent  to  school,  but  he  seems 
 not  to  have  remained  there  long.  His  removal  thence  may  have  been 
 occasioned  by  the  cruelty  of  his  teacher,  at  whose  hands  he  seems  to  have 
 suffered  much.  He  never  forgot  the  unhappiness  of  his  childhood,  and 
 when  in  later  days  he  was  framing  the  ordinances  of  his  religion,  he  insisted 
 most  strenuously  on  the  duty  of  treating  children  with  the  utmost  tender- 
 ness and  consideration,  enacting  heavy  fines  against  such  as  should  cruelly 
 beat  or  ill-use  them.  "  The  ol)ject  of  these  commands,"  he  says,  "  is  that 
 men  may  not  bring  sorrow  on  that  Spirit  from  the  ocean  of  whose  bounty 
 they  enjoy  existence ;  for  the  teacher  knoweth  not  Him  who  is  his  own  and 
 all  men's  teacher." 
 
 On  his  removal  from  school  Mi'rza  'All  Muhammad  was  for  a  while  en- 
 gaged in  helping  his  father  Mirzd  Riza  in  his  business.  He  was  still  but  a 
 boy,  however,  when  his  father  died,  and  thenceforth  he  was  taken  under 
 the  care  of  his  maternal  uncle,  Haji  Seyyid  'Ali.  After  a  while,  but  at 
 what  precise  date  we  cannot  say,  he  left  Shiraz  and  took  up  his  abode  at 
 Bushire  on  the  Persian  Gulf,  where  he  still  carried  on  the  trade  for  which 
 he  was  destined.  So  far  tiiere  was  nothing  specially  noticeable  in  him  save 
 a  gravity  unusual  at  his  years,  a  remarkable  purity  of  life,  a  somewhat 
 dreamy  temperament,  and  a  sweetness  of  manner  which  attracted  all  with 
 whom  he  came  in  contact.  At  the  age  of  twenty-two  he  married,  and  by 
 this  marriage  he  had  one  son  named  Ahmad,  who  died  in  infancy. 
 
 About  this  time,  there  dwelt  and  taught  at  Kerbela,  a  spot  most  hallowed 
 in  tlie  eyes  of  every  Persian  Shi'ite  by  reason  of  the  martyrdom  of  Huseyn 
 the  third  Inuim  which  there  took  place,  a  certain  Haji  Seyyid  Kazim  of 
 Resht,  the  disciple  and  successor  of  Sheykh  Ahmad  of  Ahsa,  who  had 
 founded  a  new  school  or  sect  called  after  him  Sheykhis.  Of  the  Sheykhis' 
 doctrine  the  most  notable  feature  was  the  extreme  veneration — remarkable 
 even  amongst  the  Shi'ites— in  which  they  held  the  Imams,  and  the  eager- 
 ness wherewith  they  awaited  the  advent  of  the  Twelfth  Imam  or  Imam 
 Mahdi.  One  day  the  circle  of  those  who  sat  at  the  feet  of  Seyyid  Kazim 
 was  augmented  by  a  fresh  arrival.  The  new  comer,  who  took  his  seat 
 modestly  by  the  door  in  the  lowest  place,  was  none  other  than  Mirza  'Alf 
 Muhammad,  who,  impelled  by  a  pious  desire  to  visit  the  Holy  Shrines, 
 had  left  his  business  at  Bushire  to  come  to  Kerbela.  During  the  next 
 few  months  the  face  of  the  young  Shirazi  became  familiar  to  all  the 
 disciples  of  Seyyid  Kazim,  and  the  teacher  hin-jself  did  not  fail  to  notice 
 and  appreciate  the  earnest  but  modest  demeanour  of  the  youthful  stranger. 
 Then  all  of  a  sudden  Mirza  'Ali  Muhammad  departed  as  unexpectedly 
 as  he  had  come,  and  once  more  returned  to  Shiraz,  his  native  city.  Not 
 long  after  this  Seyyid  Kazim  died  without  nominating  any  successor.  To 
 some  of  his  disciples  whom  he  had  seen  weeping  over  his  approaching 
 death  he  had  said,  "  Do  you  not  then  desire  that  I  should  go,  so  that  the 
 
JJ^ 
 
 RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 Truth  may  become  manifest  ?  "  How  this  Truth  should  be  revealed  was  a 
 matter  whereat  he  had  but  darkly  hinted,  and  so  it  was  that  his  disciples, 
 distressed  and  doubtful,  met  together  after  his  death  to  fast  and  pray. 
 Then  they  dispersed,  each  in  his  own  way,  to  seek  what  they  desired  and 
 await  what  they  expected. 
 
 Amongst  these  disciples  was  one,  Mulla  Huseyn  by  name,  of  Bush- 
 raweyh  in  Khurasan,  who  had  enjoyed  a  special  intimacy  with  the  departed 
 teacher,  and  wlio  had  been  regarded  by  many  as  likely  to  succeed  him.  On 
 the  dispersal  of  the  Sheykhis  to  which  I  have  just  alluded,  this  Mulla 
 Huseyn  went  to  Shi'raz,  and  on  his  arrival  there  he  remembered  that  Mi'rza 
 'All  Muhammad,  his  former  fellow-student,  dwelt  in  this  city.  Anxious  to 
 renew  his  acquaintance  with  one  whose  amiable  disposition  had  exercised 
 over  him  a  singular  charm,  he  inquired  after  and  soon  discovered  the 
 house  of  his  former  friend.  The  door  was  opened  by  Mirza  'All  Muham- 
 mad in  person,  and  when  the  first  greetings  were  over  the  two  fell  to  talk- 
 mg  of  Seyyid  Kazim  and  his  recent  death.  At  first  it  was  Mulla  Huseyn 
 who  spoke,  detailing  the  events  of  Seyyid  Kazim's  last  days,  and  the  hopes 
 and  fears  which  occupied  the  minds  of  his  followers.  But  soon  it  was 
 Mulla  Huseyn's  turn  to  listen  in  amazement  to  a  declaration  which  Mi'rza 
 'All  Muhammad  now  for  the  first  time  made,  to  wit,  that  he  himself  was  the 
 promised  guide  and  teacher,  the  "  Truth  "  foretold  by  the  departed  Seyyid, 
 the  channel  of  a  new  outpouring  of  Divine  Grace  ;  in  a  word,  the  Bab  or 
 Gate  whereby  men  might  once  again  commune  with  the  Imam  from  whom 
 for  a  thousand  years  they  had  been  separated.  The  amazement  and  in- 
 credulity which  tliis  declaration  at  first  evoked  in  Mulla  Huseyn's  mind 
 was  soon  changed  by  further  conversation  with  Mi'rza  'All  Muhammad  (or, 
 to  give  him  the  title  to  which  he  had  now  laid  claim,  the  Bab)  into  a  belief 
 whereof  the  sincerity  was  attested  by  every  subsequent  action  of  this  first 
 convert  to  the  new  faith. 
 
 In  spite  of  the  absence  of  many  facilities  of  communication  which  we 
 enjoy  in  Europe,  news  travels  fast  in  the  East ;  and  no  great  while  had 
 elapsed  since  the  "manifestation"  (which  took  place  on  May  23rd,  1844) 
 ere  the  Bab  was  surrounded  by  a  considerable  number  of  eager  disciples. 
 .\mongst  these  were  included  many  of  the  late  Seyyid  Kazim's  followers, 
 who,  apprised  by  Mulla  Huseyn  of  what  had  taken  place,  hastened  with  all 
 speed  to  Shi'raz.  The  zeal  of  the  little  band  of  believers  was  great.  In 
 the  circles  of  their  own  assemblies  they  read  with  eagerness  and  rapture 
 the  Commentary  on  the  Sura  of  Joseph,  the  Ziydrat  fidma  or  "Book  of 
 Visitation,"  and  the  few  other  works  which  the  Bab  had  then  composed  ; 
 while  from  time  to  time  each  one  of  them  was  privileged  to  listen  to  the 
 words  of  the  Master  himself  as  he  depicted  in  vivid  language  the  worldli- 
 ness  and  immorality  of  the  niitl/ds,  or  Muhammadan  clergy,  and  the  in- 
 justice and  rapacity  of  the  civil  authorities,  or  spoke  with  a  conviction 
 which  compelled  belief  of  the  era  of  justice  and  happiness  now  at  hand 
 and  the  certain  triumph  of  the  new  truth  which  he  was  commissioned  to 
 
BAbIISM.  337 
 
 proclaim.  Already  the  Bab's  tame  was  in  every  one's  mouth  and  the  Babis 
 were  beginning  to  attract  general  attention  (an  attention  which,  in  the  case 
 of  tlie  government  authorities  and  the  clergy,  was  largely  mixed  with 
 suspicion  and  dislike),  when  the  young  prophet  once  more  left  Shiraz 
 secretly,,  accompanied  only  by  one  intimate  disciple,  and  set  out  to  perform 
 the  pilgrimage  to  Mecca. 
 
 When  the  Bab  returned  from  Mecca  and  again  landed  at  Bushire,  in 
 August,  1845,  the  complexion  of  affairs  was  considerably  altered.  On' 
 the  one  hand,  his  ideas  had  doubtless  become  more  clearly  defined;  on 
 the  other  hand,  the  government  and  the  clergy  had  decided  that  this  new 
 movement  was  altogether  dangerous  to  them  and  must  at  once  be  checked 
 as  sharply  as  possible.  Accordingly,  when  some  of  the  Bab's  disciples,  ^ho 
 had  preceded  him  to  Shiraz,  entered  the  city,  they  were  seized  by  the 
 governor  Huseyn  Khan,  bastinadoed,  and  forbidden  to  preach.  To  ensure 
 the  effectiveness  of  this  prohibition,  one  or  two  of  them  were  hamstrung, 
 so  that  they  should  be  unable  to  quit  their  houses.  Horsemen  were  also 
 despatched  to  Bushire  to  arrest  the  Bab,  who  was  brought  in  to  Shiraz  in 
 the  latter  part  of  September,  1845.  He  was  examined  befote  the  governor 
 by  some  of  the  chief  clergy,  who  declared  him  to  be  a  heretic,  and  ordered 
 that  he  should  be  punished  with  the  bastinado  and  then  confined  in  the 
 house  of  'Abdu'l-Hamiii  Klian,  the  ddrug/id,  or  chief  constable.  In  spite 
 of  these  measures,  however,  the  new  faith  continued  to  spread  rapidly,  for 
 many  of  the  Bab's  disciples  were  by  this  time  scattered  throughout  all  parts 
 of  Persia  engaged  in  preaching  his  doctrine,  while  those  who  remained  in 
 Shiraz  did  not  fail  to  find  means  of  approaching  him  even  in  his  confine- 
 ment. The  chief  constable,  indeed,  seems  to  have  submitted  to  the  charm 
 of  his  prisoner's  gentle  and  amiable  manner,  and,  according  to  one  of  the 
 Babi  historians,  he  was  actually  brought  to  believe  in  the  divine  mission 
 of  the  captive,  to  whose  prayers  he  considered  himself  indebted  for  the 
 recovery  of  his  son  from  a  mortal  sickness.  At  all  events,  when,  in  the 
 spring  of  1846,  Miniicliihr  Khan,  the  governor  of  Ispahan,  anxious  to  see 
 one  of  whom  he  had  heard  so  much,  sent  messengers  to  Shiraz  to  discover 
 whether  he  could  by  any  means  deliver  the  Bab  from  his  captivity  and 
 bring  him  to  Ispahan,  the  chief  constable  connived  at,  if  he  did  not  actually 
 assist,  the  escape  of  his  prisoner,  who  at  once  set  out  in  company  with  two 
 of  his  disciples  for  the  latter  city,  where  he  arrived  about  May,  1846. 
 
 For  nearly  a  year  the  Bab  remained  at  Ispahan,  and  during  this  period 
 he  enjoyed  the  last  days  of  comparative  peace  and  security  allotted  to  him. 
 He  was  under  the  protection  of  one  of  the  most  powerful  nobles  of  the 
 time,  who  was  both  able  and  willing  to  protect  him  from  the  malice  of  his 
 enemies,  amongst  whom  the  clergy  were  most  malignant.  But  early  in 
 1847  his  protector  died,  and  Gurgin  Khan,  who  succeeded  to  the  govern- 
 ment of  Ispahan,  not  sharing  the  feelings  of  his  predecessor,  at  once  sent 
 the  Bab  off  under  an  armed  escort  to  Teheran,  that  the  then-reigning  King 
 Muhammad  Shah  and  his  ill-advised  minister  Haji  Mirza  Akasi  might  deal 
 
 VOL.    I.  z 
 
338  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 with  the  reformer  as  they  pleased.  The  King  would  seem  to  have  desired 
 to  see  the  Bab  ;  but  the  minister,  fearful  lest  his  sovereign  should  yield  to 
 the  potent  influence  of  the  young  prophet,  vigorously  combated  this  pro- 
 posal, pointing  out  the  imprudence  of  allowing  one  whose  doctrines  had 
 already  made  such  progress  amongst  all  classes  to  enter  the  capital  and  be 
 seen  by  its  inhabitants.  The  minister's  advice  finally  prevailed,  and  orders 
 were  issued  for  the  transference  of  the  Bab  to  the  remote  frontier-fortress 
 of  Makii,  whereof  the  governor,  'All  Khan,  was  a  creature  of  the  minister, 
 wholly  devoted  to  his  interests.  Thither  accordingly  was  the  Bab  con- 
 veyed, but -such  was  the  sympathy  of  the  people  with  him  and  their  anxiety 
 to  behold  him,  that  it  was  found  necessary  to  avoid  as  much  as  possible  all 
 towns  and  large  villages,  and  even  amongst  the  escort  appointed  to  guard 
 liim  several  conversions  took  place. 
 
 Soon  after  his  arrival  at  Makii,  the  Bab  was  summoned  to  Tabriz  and 
 again  examined  concerning  his  doctrine  by  a  number  of  the  chief  clergy, 
 presided  over  by  the  present  Shah  of  Persia,  then  Crown-Prince.  Con- 
 cerning what  passed  there  we  have  only  the  Muhammadan  accounts  ;  but 
 even  from  these,  partial  and  one-sided  as  they  are,  we  can  clearly  perceive 
 that,  so  far  from  there  being  any  attempt  at  serious  investigation,  the  pro- 
 ceedings were  characterized  throughout  by  the  most  shameful  levity  and 
 unfairness.  "  If  you  are  the  '  Gate  of  Knowledge,'  "  they  said  to  him, 
 '•'  you  must  of  course  be  able  to  answer  any  questions  we  choose  to  ask 
 you";  and  thereupon  they  fell  to  interrogating  him  about  the  technica- 
 lities of  medicine,  grammar,  philosophy,  logic,  and  the  like.  To  these 
 senseless  and  insolent  questions,  the  Bab,  perceiving  that  he  had  been 
 brought  thither,  not  to  be  judged  but  to  be  mocked,  returned  no  answer  ; 
 and  his  persecutors,  wearying  of  their  sport,  ordered  him  to  be  beaten  and 
 sent  back  to  his  prison  at  Makii.  Significant  of  the  sympathy  towards 
 him  which  animated  the  common  people,  is  the  fact  that  the  priests  could 
 find  no  one  willing  to  execute  their  mandate,  and  were  finally  compelled 
 to  inflict  the  chastisement  themselves. 
 
 So  far  from  suffering  himself  to  be  discouraged  by  this  harsh  treatment, 
 the  Bab  continued  to  write  down  and  codify  his  doctrines  and  ordinances 
 with  unabated  diligence.  Two  brothers,  Seyyid  Huseyn  and  Seyyid 
 Hasan,  of  Yezd,  shared  his  captivity.  The  former  of  these  was  continu- 
 ally occupied  in  transcribing  and  arranging  his  master's  words  ;  and,  in 
 spite  of  the  strict  injunctions  of  the  Prime  Minister,  means  were  found  to 
 convey  these  precious  writings  into  the  liands  of  tlic  fiiitiiful.  The  Bab's 
 doctrines,  too,  underwent  considerable  development.  He  declared  that  he 
 was  not  merely  the  "Gate"  leading  to  the  Imam  Mahdi,  but  the  Imam 
 himself;  that  he  was  indeed  the  "  Point,"  or  Primal  Truth  once  more 
 revealed  in  man,  and  that  what  in  previous  revelations  had  been  set  forth 
 darkly  and  in  riddles  he  now  i)roclaimed  openly  and  without  leserve.  At 
 the  same  lime  he  claimed  no  finality  for  his  revelation,  declaring  that  after 
 him  one  yet  greater  (whom  he  named  "He  whom  God  shall  manifest") 
 
B  Ant  ISM.  339 
 
 should  appear  for  the  perfecting  of  that  which  he  had  begun.  In  the 
 books  composed  by  the  Bab  at  this  time  it  is  curious  to  perceive  that  his 
 chief  anxiety  was  not  for  his  own  fate,  but  for  the  reception  which  should 
 be  accorded  by  his  followers  to  "  Him  whom  God  shall  manifest."  Again 
 and  again,  almost  in  every  page,  he  entreats  these  not  to  behave  in  the 
 next  manifestation  as  the  Muhammadans  have  behaved  in  this,  and  to 
 remember  that  no  revelation  is  final,  but  only  represents  the  measure  of 
 truth  which  the  state  of  human  progress  has  rendered  mankind  capable  of 
 receiving.  For  about  six  months  the  Bab  remained  at  Makii,  and  then  the 
 Government,  perceiving  that  his  disciples  still  succeeded  in  gaining  access 
 to  him,  transferred  him  to  the  closer  imprisonment  of  Chihrik.  Here  it 
 was  only  by  means  of  letters  concealed  in  walnuts,  or  sewn  up  in  water- 
 proof and  sunk  in  milk,  and  the  like,  that  correspondence  between  the 
 Bab  and  his  followers  was  any  longer  possible. 
 
 We  must  now  leave  the  Bab  for  a  while,  and  turn  our  attention  to  the 
 efforts  of  his  disciples  to  spread  the  new  faith,  and  the  tragic  events 
 wherein  these  efforts  culminated.  Mulla  Huseyn,  whom  I  have  already 
 mentioned  as  the  first  to  believe,  was  conspicuous,  even  amongst  the 
 devoted  missionaries  who  went  forth  into  every  quarter  of  Persia,  for  his 
 fiery  energy  and  indomitable  spirit.  Night  and  day,  now  in  Ispahan,  now 
 in  Kiishau,  now  in  Teheran,  now  in  Mash-had,  was  he  occupied  in  per- 
 suading incjuirers,  confirming  waverers,  and  encouraging  the  faithful. 
 Weariness  and  despair  were  alike  unknown  to  the  ardent  spirit  which 
 animated  that  fragile-looking  frame.  Expelled  from  Teheran,  he  went  to 
 Mash-had  ;  arrested  there  by  Hamze  Mirza,  one  of  the  uncles  of  the 
 present  Shah,  he  nevertheless  succeeded  in  effecting  his  escape,  and,  in 
 company  with  a  small  but  ever-increasing  band  of  followers,  again  set  out 
 westwards,  intending,  as  it  would  appear,  to  proceed  to  Makii  and  attempt 
 to  liberate  the  Bab.  Now  at  length  the  enmity  between  the  Muham- 
 madans and  the  Babis  threatened  to  break  out  in  open  warfare,  and  at 
 the  village  of  Shahrud  a  serious  collision  seemed  inevitable,  when  suddenly 
 a  messenger  arrived  announcing  that  Muhammad  Shah  had  breathed  his 
 last.     This  was  in  September,  1848. 
 
 When  a  king  dies  in  Persia,  a  period  of  anarchy  and  lawlessness  ensues, 
 to  which  European  countries  are  fortunately  strangers.  The  local  autho- 
 rities, uncertain  of  the  continued  tenure  of  their  ofiices,  hasten  to  the 
 capital  to  make  favour  with  the  new  government,  or  else  employ  the  days 
 of  disorder  for  their  own  ends.  The  mechanism  of  the  State  is  for  the  time 
 being  unhinged  and  thrown  out  of  gear,  laws  are  practically  suspended, 
 plunder  and  rapine  are  rife,  and  life  and  property  are  imperilled.  Such 
 was  the  state  of  things  which  Mulla  Huseyn  was  called  upon  to  confront. 
 It  demanded  all  his  judgment  and  all  his  energies  ;  for  if  on  the  one  hand 
 there  was  a  hope  that  the  new  government  might  prove  more  favourably 
 disposed  towards  the  Bab  than  its  predecessor  had  been,  there  was  on 
 the  other  hand  great  immediate  danger  to  be  apprehended  from  the  unre- 
 
340  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 strained  lawlessness  of  the  ill-disposed,  from  which  almost  every  check  had 
 for  the  present  been  removed.  Mulla  Huseyn  accordingly  pushed  on 
 rapidly  to  the  village  of  Badasht,  situated  near  the  borders  of  the  province 
 of  Mazandaran,  and  there  effected  a  junction  with  another  band  of  his  co- 
 religionists under  the  leadership  of  Mulla  Muhammad  '  All  of  Barfurush. 
 Amongst  these  was  one  person  so  remarkable  as  to  merit  at  least  a  passing 
 notice. 
 
 Rarely  indeed  does  it  happen  in  a  Muhammadan  country  that  a  woman 
 attains  distinction  and  fame.  Yet  if  ever  a  woman  deserved  not  fame 
 only  but  immortality,  that  woman  was  Zarrin-Tdj\  the  daughter  of  Hdji 
 Mulla  Muhammad  Salih  of  Kazvi'n,  better  known  by  the  name  of  Kur- 
 raiu'l-'Ayn  ("  Freshness  "  or  "  Delight  of  the  Eyes  "),  which  the  Babfs  be- 
 stowed on  her.  Endowed  with  rare  beauty  and  yet  rarer  intellectual  gifts, 
 she  was  well  versed  in  Arabic,  the  Kur'an,  the  traditions,  and  philosophy, 
 besides  which  she  was  in  her  own  language  eloquent  beyond  measure,  and 
 a  poetess  of  no  mean  order.  Indescribably  galling  to  such  a  woman  must 
 have  been  the  condition  of  dependence  and  intellectual  stagnation  in 
 which  her  sex  are  doomed  by  the  ordinances  of  Islam  to  dwell ;  and  it 
 was  probably  on  learning  that  the  Bab  sought  amongst  other  social  reforms 
 to  raise  women  to  the  rank  of  ecjuality  with  men  that  she  became  first 
 attracted  towards  his  teaching.  Once  persuaded  of  its  truth,  she  embraced 
 the  new  doctrine  with  all  the  vehemence  of  an  enthusiastic  nature  ;  and 
 began,  in  spite  of  the  violent  opposition  of  her  relatives  (almost  all  of  whom 
 belonged  to  the  clerical  or  priestly  class),  to  profess  and  preach  the  Babi 
 faith.  Compelled  finally  by  circumstances  which  it  would  take  too  long  to 
 detail  to  fly  from  her  native  town  of  Kazvi'n,  she  now  appears  amongst 
 the  Babfs  gathered  in  council  at  Badasht. 
 
 It  was  decided  that  to  this  beautiful,  courageous,  and  eloquent  woman 
 should  be  committed  the  task  of  encouraging  the  faithful  and  confirming 
 the  lukewarm  by  an  address  delivered  from  a  rude  pulpit,  hastily  con- 
 structed of  stones  and  logs  heaped  together.  Every  other  sound  was 
 hushed  and  every  ear  was  strained  as  that  clear  sweet  voice  began  to 
 speak  of  the  new  dispensation  inaugurated  upon  earth,  of  the  reign  ot 
 universal  justice  and  love  which  was  at  hand,  of  the  approaching  downfall 
 of  tyranny,  bigotry,  and  oppression.  As  she  ])roceeded,  exhorting  them 
 not  to  stand  back  at  this  most  critical  moment,  not  to  allow  a  craven  fear 
 to  keep  them  aloof  from  the  glorious  enterprise,  not  to  fail  in  the  coming 
 struggle  for  faith  and  freedom,  the  silence  was  broken  by  sobs  of  heartfelt 
 emotion  and  cries  of  " /(y/J//./"  ("  O  my  life!"),  " -Ey  Tdhira  I"  {'' O 
 pure  one  !  "),  "  Kurhdnat  ^ardam  !  "  ("  May  I  be  thy  sacrifice !  "),  and  the 
 like.  The  most  listless  and  apathetic  were  roused  ;  the  wavering  became 
 assured,  strong  men  wei)t.  No  hesitation  or  half-heartedness  now;  all 
 were  resolved  to  stand  firm  even  to  the  death,  and  their  later  deeds  bore 
 abundant  testimony  to  the  unshakable  firmness  of  their  purpose;  And 
 now  let  Kurratu'l-'Ayn,  having  wrought  her  great  work,  depart  for  a  while 
 
BABflSM.  341 
 
 to  wander  in  the  highlands  of  Niir,  and  to  be  betrayed  into  the  hands  of 
 her  ruthless  foes.  We  shall  meet  her  once  again  on  that  terrible  day  in 
 1852,  when  the  storm  of  fire  and  steel  and  tortures  not  to  be  described  or 
 imagined  broke  impotent  against  a  courage  and  steadfast  endurance  whir  h 
 has  made  the  very  name  of  Babi  a  word  which  no  Persian  can  utter  with- 
 out a  certain  involuntary  awe  and  admiration. 
 
 It  would  take  far  more  time  than'  we  have  at  our  disposal  to  follow  in 
 detail  the  occurrences  of  those  eventful  days.  Let  us  therefore  pass  on 
 quickly  to  the  ultimate  fate  of  MuUa  Huseyn  and  his  companions.  P^iglit 
 months  or  so  have  elapsed  since  the  events  above  recorded,  and  it  is  now 
 the  summer  of  1849.  You  must  try  to  picture  to  yourselves  a  flat  fenny 
 country  covered  with  tall  reeds  and  grasses  or  occasional  swampy  rice- 
 fields,  and  sparingly  traversed  by  narrow,  muddy  paths.  To  the  north, 
 dim  and  grey,  lies  the  Caspian  Sea.  To  the  south,  fen  passes  gradually 
 into  forest,  which  slopes  upwards  towards  the  vast  black  wall  formed  by 
 the  Elburz  mountains.  Just  where  the  fens  end  and  the  forest  begins, 
 isolated  amidst  swamps  and  thickets,  stands  the  tomb  of  Sheykh  Tabarsi, 
 a  holy  man  of  bygone  days.  The  little  building  which  marks  the  site  of 
 the  tomb  stands  in  the  midst  of  a  grassy  sward  about  100  yards  long  and 
 70  yards  wide.  This  enclosure  contains  a  few  wild  pomegranate  trees, 
 and  is  surrounded  by  rude  earthworks  and  palisades.  These,  as  well  as 
 the  buildings  of  the  shrine,  are  riddled  with  shot  and  stained  with  gore, 
 while  the  grassy  sward  is  marked  with  many  a  freshly-made  grave.  The 
 forms  of  men  emaciated  to  skeletons  with  drawn  faces  and  sunken  eyes 
 (wherein  nevertheless  still  glows  the  light  of  an  enthusiasm  which  neither 
 privation  nor  suffering  can  quench)  pass  occasionally  across  the  enclosure. 
 These  are  the  remnant  of  the  Babis  whom  we  last  saw  at  Badasht  hanirinsi 
 on  the  words  of  Kurratu'l-'Ayn,  and  this  is  their  last  retreat.  Here  for 
 eight  weary  months  have  they  held  at  bay  the  royal  army,  and,  by  dint  of 
 courage  and  skill  incredible  in  men  trained  for  the  most  part  to  peaceful 
 avocations,  again  and  again  inflicted  on  it  defeats  and  losses  which  had 
 caused  even  the  less  sanguine  amongst  the  besieged  to  hope  for  ultimate 
 victory.  But  now  at  length  the  end  has  come.  Their  brave  leader, 
 MuUa  Huseyn,  is  dead,  killed  in  the  very  moment  of  an  heroic  exploit  by 
 a  stray  bullet  fired  from  some  hidden  ambush.  Their  provisions  are  all 
 used  up.  A  few  days  previously  a  desperate  but  unsuccessful  attempt  had 
 been  made  to  cut  through  the  ever-tightening  cordon  of  troops.  To  give 
 them  strength  for  this  final  effort,  they  had  been  compelled  to  exhume  the 
 bones  of  the  horse  which  had  carried  tlieir  gallant  leader  through  his  last 
 fray,  and  from  these  to  make  a  sort  of  broth  which  might  at  least  serve  lo 
 keep  body  and  soul  together.  Absolute  starvation  now  stares  them  in  the  face, 
 and  further  resistance  appears  impossible.  Yet,  in  spite  of  their  miserable 
 plight,  so  great  is  the  dread  with  which  their  valour  has  inspired  the  royal 
 troops,  that  even  at  this  eleventh  hour  a  message  has  come  from  the  royalist 
 officers  promising  them  life  and  liberty  if  they  will  yield  up  their  fortress. 
 
342  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 To  deliberate  on  this  proposal  the  Bdbi  leaders  are  now  assembled  to- 
 gether in  the  mausoleum  of  the  departed  Sheykh.  At  length  it  is  decided 
 to  accept  the  terms  oftered  and  evacuate  the  fortress.  A  written  promise 
 signed  by  the  royalist  leaders  and  confirmed  by  oaths  sworn  on  the  Kur 'an 
 lulls  all  suspicion  of  treachery ;  and  now  at  length  in  slow  procession  the 
 survivors  of  the  Babi  garrison  emerge  from  their  stronghold,  and  pass 
 through  the  wondering  ranks  of  the  besiegers  to  the  place  allotted  to 
 them. 
 
 At  first  all  seems  fair  enough.  Food  is  set  before  the  starving  Babi's, 
 and  their  leaders  are  invited  to  take  their  breakfast  with  Prince  Mahdi- 
 Kuli  Mfrza  and  'Abbas-Kuli  Khdn,  of  Larijdn,  the  royalist  generals.  As 
 the  meal  proceeds,  the  latter  artfully  turn  the  conversation  on  to  religious 
 topics.  The  unsuspecting  Babi's  speak  freely  and  boldly  of  that  which  is 
 nearest  their  hearts.  The  prince  listens  attentively,  smiling  now  and  then 
 a  false  and  cruel  smile  as  he  marks  the  success  of  his  stratagem.  Suddenly 
 he  springs  to  his  feet,  claps  his  hands,  and  cries  out  that  his  guests  have 
 uttered  blasphemy,  in  that  they  make  the  Bab  not  only  equal  to  but 
 greater  than  Muhammad.  Promises  plighted  to  infidels  are  not  binding, 
 and  shall  not  avert  the  vengeance  of  outraged  orthodoxy.  The  soldiers 
 rush  in  and  seize  the  unarmed  and  helpless  Babi  chiefs.  Another  party 
 of  soldiers  fall  suddenly  upon  the  other  Babi's,  who,  in  the  quarters  as- 
 signed to  them,  have  scarce  as  yet  stretched  out  their  hands  to  taste  the 
 first  good  food  they  have  seen  for  many  weeks.  The  captives  are  dragged 
 before  the  royalist  generals,  and,  at  their  command,  cast  down  on  the 
 ground  and  cut  open  with  knives.  Five  or  six  of  tiie  chief  Babi's  only 
 are  reserved  from  the  massacre  to  grace  the  prince's  triumphal  entry  into 
 Barfurush  ;  and,  bearing  with  them  these  and  the  heads  of  the  slain  set  on 
 spears,  the  victorious  army  sets  out  with  beating  drums  and  blowing  trum- 
 pets for  the  town.  On  their  way  thither  they  are  met  by  deputations  of 
 the  Mj//lds,  who  congratulate  them  on  their  prowess  and  clamour  loudly 
 for  the  blood  of  the  few  remaining  prisoners.  The  royalist  generals  had 
 entertained  the  idea  of  carrying  these  with  them  to  Teheran,  that  they 
 might  show  to  the  young  Shah  those  who  had  dared  for  so  long  to  with- 
 stand his  armies.  The  Miillds,  however,  are  importunate ;  the  point  is 
 yielded  ;  and  Haji  Mulla  Muhammad  'All  and  his  four  or  five  surviving 
 comrades  are  handed  over  to  their  inveterate  foes,  who  tear  them  limb 
 from  limb  in  the  market-place  of  liarfurdsh.  They  meet  death  unflinch- 
 ingly, as  brave  men  should,  and  night  settles  down  over  the  blood-stained 
 and  mangled  remains  of  the  last  survivors  of  Sheykh  Tabarsi. 
 
 The  temporary  lull  which  followed  the  suppression  of  the  Mazandardn 
 insurrection  was  soon  broken  by  a  similar  struggle  at  Zanjan  in  the  north- 
 west of  Persia.  Into  the  details  of  this  struggle  it  is  impossible  to  enter 
 here.  The  scene  is  changed  from  fens  and  forests  to  the  narrow,  tortuous, 
 mud-wallcd  streets  of  a  Persian  town,  lying,  amidst  pleasant  poplar-gardens, 
 which  mark  the  course 'of  a  little  river,  in  the  stony,  sun-baked  table-land 
 
B/iBflSM.  343 
 
 of  central  Persia,  But  though  the  scene  is  changed,  the  incidents  of  the 
 struggle  are  otherwise  much  the  same.  There  is  the  same  desperate  and 
 indomitable  courage  on  the  part  of  the  Babi's ;  the  same  carelessness, 
 cowardice,  and  mismanagement  on  the  part  of  the  besiegers.  The  Babi 
 women  cut  off  their  long  hair  to  bind  round  the  crazy  guns  which  have 
 begun  to  gape  and  crack  under  the  constant  firing,  and  are  continually  cm 
 tlie  ramparts  encouraging  their  husbands  and  brothers  in  the  attempt  to 
 avert  the  inevitable  doom.  But  soon,  as  at  Sheykh  Tabarsi,  the  attack 
 by  storm  is  succeeded  by  the  blockade,  and  the  horrors  of  famine  stare 
 the  besieged  in  the  face.  'J'hen  come  the  same  treacherous  promises,  re- 
 sulting in  a  surrender  followed,  as  before,  by  a  perfidious  massacre  of  the 
 too  confiding  Babi's. 
 
 This  summer  of  1850  was  marked  by  other  events  riot  less  fateful. 
 While  the  siege  of  Zanjan  was  still  in  progress,  another  Babi  rising  took 
 l)lace  at  Ni'ri'z  far  away  in  the  south  of  Persia.  The  Government, 
 thoroughly  alarmed,  determined  on  a  measure  which,  as  it  believed,  could 
 not  fail  to  deal  a  death-blow  to  the  Babi  movement.  The  Bab,  who  had 
 now  been  subjected  for  more  than  three  years  to  a  rigorous  imprisonment, 
 could  not,  indeed,  be  considered  as  directly  responsible  for  the  attitude  of 
 armed  resistance  assumed  by  his  followers  ;  nevertheless  the  Government, 
 regarding  him  as  the  fountain-head  of  tliose  doctrines  which  had  convulsed 
 the  whole  Persian  empire,  determined  that  he  should  die.  With'  his  death, 
 as  they  imagined,  the  whole  movement  must  collapse.  Had  they  been 
 better  acquainted  with  the  Bab's  doctrine,  they  might  have  hesitated  be- 
 fore taking  a  step  which  could  have  no  certain  result  save  that  of  exasper- 
 ating his  followers  beyond  all  measure.  For,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  Bab 
 had  striven  to  render  his  religion  as  far  as  possible  independent  of  his 
 personality  in  two  ways.  First  of  all,  as  we  have  already  seen,  he  had  de- 
 clared that  it  was  in  no  sense  final,  and  had  foretold  the  coming  of  "  Him 
 whom  God  shall  manifest "  to  complete  and  perfect  the  religion  which  he 
 had  founded.  Secondly,  he  had  not  centred  the  spiritual  authority  even 
 during  his  lifetime  in  himself  alone,  but  in  what  he  called  the  "  Unity  " — 
 a  sort  of  hierarchy  consisting  of  himself,  "  the  Point,"  and  eighteen  other 
 persons  called  "  Letters  of  the  Living."  Why  the  number  nineteen  was 
 chosen  as  the  sacred  number  and  employed  as  such,  not  only  here,  but 
 in  all  the  relations  of  life,  it  would  take  too  long  to  explain.  Suffice  it  to 
 say  that  certain  curious  facts  connected  with  the  numerical  values  of  the 
 letters  composing  certain  words  indicating  Divine  attributes  seemed  to 
 the  Bab  to  point  it  out  as  a  number  essentially  sacred,  mysterious,  and 
 worthy  of  being  made  the  basis  whereon  all  things  should  be  arranged. 
 Now  this  "  Unity  "  was  in  its  very  nature  permanent ;  for,  when  any  one 
 of  the  "  Letters  "  composing  it  died,  the  grace  and  virtue  inherent  in 
 him  passed  to  some  other  Bdbi,  who  thereupon  became  incorpoiated  in 
 the  •'  Unity,"  which  in  this  way  remained  constant.  After  the  "  Point  " 
 {i.e.  the  Bab)  the  two  chief  "Letters"  of  the  "Unity"  had  been  MuUa 
 
344  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 Huseyn  and  MuUd  Muliammad  'All.  Both  of  these  having  been  killeil  at 
 Sheykh  'rabarsi,  a  youth  named  Mi'rza  Yahya,  and  entitled  by  the  Babi's 
 "■Subh-i-Ezel"  ("the  Morning  of  Eternity"),  now  occupied  the  highest  rank 
 in  the  Unity  after  the  Bab  himself.  Of  this,  however,  as  of  all  else  apper- 
 taining to  the  Babi  doctrine,  the  Musulmdns  were  quite  ignorant,  and  they 
 confidently  expected  that  the  new  faith  would  expire  with  its  founder,  on 
 whose  destruction  they  were  now  bent. 
 
 The  Bdb,  therefore,  was  haled  from  Chihrik  to  Tabriz,  and  once  more 
 arraigned  before  judges  whose  sentence  was  a  foregone  conclusion.  The 
 trial  which  he  now  underwent  was  nothing  but  a  protracted  series  of  in- 
 sults and  indignities.  One  result,  however,  his  tormentors  were  anxious 
 to  attain,  and  that  was  to  induce  the  Bab  formally  to  renounce  the  doc- 
 trine which  he  had  taught.  This,  however,  they  were  unable  to  accom- 
 plish. In  reply  to  all  their  threats  and  promises,  he  continued  to  assert 
 that  in  him  was  fulfilled  what  they  understood  by  the  coming  of  the  Imam 
 Mahdi.  They  scoffed  at  his  pretensions,  and  told  him  that  the  Imam  they 
 expected  was  that  same  Imam  who  had  disappeared  more  than  twelve 
 centuries  ago  in  Surra-man-ra'a,  and  that  when  he  came  he  would  come  as 
 a  mighty  conqueror  to  slay  and  subdue  the  infidels,  and  establish  the  faith 
 of  Islam  throughout  the  world.  "Through  just  such  vain  superstitions," 
 he  replied,  "did  all  former  peoples  reject  and  slay  the  prophets  sent  unto 
 them.  Did  not  the  Jews  profess  to  be  expecting  their  promised  Messiah 
 when  Jesus  the  Son  of  Mary  appeared  in  their  midst  ?  And  did  not  they 
 reject  and  slay  Him  who  was  indeed  their  Messiah,  because  they  falsely 
 imagined  that  the  Messiah  must  come  as  a  great  Concjueror  and  King  to 
 re-establish  the  faith  of  Moses,  and  give  it  currency  throughout  the  world  .<* 
 Now  the  Muhammadans  were  acting  as  the  Jews  had  acted,  because,  like 
 them,  they  clung  to  their  own  vain  superstitions,  refusing  to  see  that  the 
 kingdom  and  the  victory  spoken  of  were  spiritual  and  not  material." 
 
 The  fatal  sentence  was  pronounced  by  the  civil  and  ratified  by  the  reli- 
 gious authorities,  and  Mirza  'All  Muhammad  was  led  back  to  prison. 
 His  last  night  on  earth  was  not  si)ent  in  solitude.  With  him  were  Aka 
 Seyyid  Huseyn,  of  Yezd,  his  amanuensis,  and  a  young  merchant  of  Tabriz, 
 named  Aka  Muhammad  'Ah',  who  was  his  devoted  disciple.  The  latter 
 belonged  to  a  g(W(l  family,  by  whom  every  eti'ort  was  made  to  induce  him 
 to  save  his  life  by  renouncing  his  master.  The  following  letter,  written 
 by  him  the  very  night  before  his  martyrdom,  contains  his  reply  to  a  last 
 appeal  of  this  nature  addressed  to  him  by  his  elder  brother  : — 
 
 "My  condition,  thanks  be  to  God,  hath  naught  of  ill,  and  'to  every 
 trouble  succecdeth  rest.'  You  wrote  that  this  matter  hath  no  end.  ^Vhat 
 matter,  then,  hath  any  end?  We,  at  least,  have  no  discontent  therein, 
 and,  indeed,  cannot  fitly  express  our  thankfulness.  The  end  of  this 
 matter  is,  to  be  slain  in  God's  cause,  and  what  happiness  is  this  !  The 
 will  of  God  will  be  accomplished  on  His  servants,  nor  can  any  human  being 
 avert  the  Divine  decree.      What  God  wills  comes  to  pass,  and  there  is  no 
 
BABtlSM.  345 
 
 power  and  no  strength  save  in  God.  0  brother,  the  end  of  the  world  is 
 death  ;  '  every  soul  tasteth  of  death.'  Should  the  appointed  fate  which 
 (iod  (mighty  and  glorious  is  He  !)  hath  decreed  overtake  me,  then  God  is 
 the  Guardian  of  my  family,  and  thou  art  mine  executor.  Behave  in  what- 
 ever way  is  agreeable  to  God's  good  pleasure,  and  pardon  whatever  has 
 been  wrought  by  me  which  seemeth  lacking  in  courtesy,  or  contrary  to  the 
 demands  of  that  respect  due  to  you  from  your  younger  brother,  and  ask 
 pardon  for  me  from  all  my  family,  and  commit  me  to  God.  God  is  my 
 l)ortion,  and  how  good  is  He  as  a.  Guardian  !  " 
 
 J^ittle  by  little  the  night  ebbed  away,,  and  the  sky  grew  bright  with  tlie 
 dawn  of  July  Qlh,  1S50.  Ere  the  prisoners  were  led  out,  all  Tabriz  was 
 astir,  and  when  at  length  they  were  brought  forth  by  their  executioners, 
 every  street  and  lane  through  which  they  were  to  pass  teemed  with  crowds 
 of  expectant  onlookers.  Of  these,  some  were  attracted  by  sympathy,  or  a 
 hope  that  even  now  some  opportunity  for  etTecting  a  rescue  might  arise ; 
 others,  drawn  merely  by  curiosity  to  behold,  one  so  famous,  were  moved 
 to  pity  by  the  pale  gentle  face,  white  delicate  hands,  and  simple  but  spot- 
 less raiment  of  the  sufferer  ;  but  the  brutal  rabble,  urged  on  by  the  malig- 
 nant and  implacable  clergy,  cast  stones  and  mud  at  the  helpless  captives, 
 and  gave  vent  to  shouts  of  joy  v;henever  a. missile  took  effect.  For  several 
 hours  were  the  prisoners  dragged  thus  through  the  endless  streets  and 
 bazaars  of  Tabriz,  until  at  length  Seyyid  Huseyn,  his  powers  of  endurance 
 utterly  exhausted,  fell  to  the  ground  fainting  with  fatigue  and  pain.  He 
 was  dragged  to  his  feet  and  told  that  he  might  yet  save  his  life  and  gain 
 his  freedom  if  he  would  renounce  and  repudiate  his  Master.  And  there- 
 upon Seyyid  Huseyn,  whether  impelled  by  a  momentary  fear  which  his 
 exhausted  strength  could  not  combat  (as  asserted  by  the  Muhammadans), 
 or  acting  on  instructions  from  the  Uab,  whereof  the  object  was  to  preserve 
 and  convey  to  the  faithful  the  last  writings  and  injunctions  of  their  prophet 
 (as  stated  by  the  Babis),  did  that  which  he  was  bidden  to  do,  and  as  the 
 price  thereof  received  his  freedom.  No  sooner  had  the  crowd  passed  on 
 than  he  gathered  himself  together,  and  at  once  set  out  for  Teheran.  On 
 his  arrival  there  he  at  once  made  his  way  to  his  co-religionists,  who,  whether 
 convinced  that  he  had  act^^d  under  his  master's  orders,  or  moved  by  his 
 sincere  and  evident  contrition,  received  him  back  into  their  midst.  That 
 he  was  not  unworthy  of  their  confidence,  he  found  the  opportunity  to  prove 
 when  two  years  later  the  cup  of  martyrdom,  was  for  the  second  time  pre- 
 sented to  him. 
 
 Encouraged  by  the  recantation  of  Seyyid  Huseyn.the  executioners  made 
 another  attempt  to  induce  Aka  Muhammad  'AH  to  follow  his.  example. 
 His  wife  and  little  children  were  brought  before  him  in  the  hope  that  their 
 tears  and  entreaties  might  conquer  his  resolution.  Even  against  this  most 
 cruel  trial  he  was  proof,  and  only  asked  that  he  might  be  kiUed  before  his 
 master.  The  soldiers,  finding  all  efforts  to  move  him  fruitless,  and  being 
 wearied  to  boot,  led  the  two  prisoners  to  the  great  square  by  the  citadel 
 
346  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 (called,  by  a  strange  coincidence,  the  "  Square  of  the  Lord  of  the  age") 
 and  there  suspended  them  with  ropes  from  staples  set  in  one  of  the  walls. 
 As  the  firing-party  took  up  its  position   kVA  Muhammad  'All   was  heard 
 to  say  to  the   Bab,    "Master,  art  thou  content  with  me?"     To  this  the 
 Bab  replied  in  Arabic,  "  Verily  Muhammad  *Ali   is  with  us  in  paradise !  " 
 Hardly  had  the  words  left  his  lips  when   the  crash  of  musketry  rang 
 out,  and  for  a  moment  the  rolling  cloud  of  smoke  hid  the  bodies  of  the 
 victims.     As  it  lifted  a  great  cry  of  wonder  and  awe  rose  from  the  specta- 
 tors.    The  lifeless  body  of  the  disciple,  indeed,  riddled  with  bullets,  swung 
 to  and  fro  in  the  air,  but  of  the  Bab  no  trace  nor  sign   was  visible.     A 
 murmur  arose  that  this  was  a  miracle,  and  the  authorities  perceived  with 
 terror  that  the  fickle  populace  was  ready  to  veer  round  and  declare  for  one 
 whom  but  an  hour  ago  they  had  jeered  and  pelted.     Had  it   been  so,  it 
 might  well  have  been  that  then  and  there  the  faith  of  the  Bab  would  have 
 won  a  definitive  victory  over  the  religion  of  Muhammad  ;  and  for  an  instant 
 the  fate  of  the  Kajar  dynasty  and  the  faith  of  Islam  hung  trembling  in  the 
 balance.     But  not  so  was  it  ordained.     Ere  the  crowd  had  recovered  from 
 their  first  amaze,  a  soldier  perceived  the  Bab  (whose  bonds  by  some  strange 
 chance  had  been  cut  by  the  bullets  which  passed  harmlessly  by  his  body) 
 taking  shelter  in  an  adjacent  guard-house,  followed  him  thither,  and  made 
 a  cut  at  him  with   his  sword.     When   the  others  saw  the  red  blood  flow 
 from  their  unresisting  victim,   their  feaT  was  gone,  and  they  hastened  to 
 complete  their  work  of  death.     The  two  bodies  were  dragged  through  the 
 streets  and  cast  out  of  the  gate  to  feed  the  dogs  and  jackals ;  but  by  night 
 came  Suleyman  Khan,  and  one  or  two  others,  with  gold  in  one  hand  and  a 
 sword  in  the  other,  offering  the  choice  between  these  to  the  guards  ap- 
 l)ointed  to  prevent  the  burial  of  the  bodies.     The  guards  took  the  gold  and 
 surrendered  the  bodies,  which  were  wrapped  in  fine  silk,  placed  in  one 
 coffin,  and  conveyed  secretly  to  Teheran,  to  be  there  bestowed  in  a  place 
 of  safety.     So  ended  the  short  and  sorrowful  but  noble  career  of  Mi'rza 
 'Ah'   Muhammad  the  Bab.     When  we  reflect  on  all  that  he  suffered  during 
 the  six  years  of  his  mission,  we  can  well   believe   that,  as  he  says  in  the 
 Beydn,  "  the  days  of  his  gladness  were  the  days  preceding  his  manifesta- 
 tion." 
 
 'I'he  tragedies  of  this  fata'l  year  were  not  yet  ended.  On  the  very  day 
 of  the  Bab's  martyrdom  the  Ni'riz  insurrection,  and  a  few  weeks  later  the 
 Zanjiin  siege,  were  quenched  in  streams  of  blood.  Between  these  two 
 events  took  place  at  Teheran  the  martydom  of  seven  Babi's,  accused  with- 
 out shadow  of  proof  of  harbouring  designs  against  the  Prime  Minister, 
 Mfrzd  Tak-i  Khdn.  Amongst  all  classes,  as  we  learn  from  the  diary  of 
 an  English  lady''  whose  husbaina  at  that 'time  occupied  a  responsible  posi- 
 tion in  the  British  Embassy,  their  faith  aroused  general  commiseration,  and 
 amongst  their  fellow-believers  they  received  the  title  of  the  "Seven  Martyrs." 
 
 '  Lady  Sheil. 
 
BAbIISM.  347 
 
 Amongst  tliem  was  the  Bab's  uncle,  Haji  Seyyid  'Ali,  to  whose  care  the 
 Bab  had  been  committed  on  the  death  of  his  father.  It  is  worth  remark- 
 ing that  in  tliis  case  the  prophet  was  not  without  honour  in  his  own  coun- 
 try, for  amongst  his  immediate  relatives  the  Bab  found  some  of  his 
 staunchest  supporters,  and  even  at  the  present  day  many  of  the  most  in- 
 fluential and  devoted  BaWs  belong  to  his  family.  At  the  last  moment, 
 almost  as  he  knelt  beneath  the  knife  of  the  headsman,  Haji  Seyyid  'Ali 
 received  an  offer  of  pardon  if  he  would  consent  to  renounce  his  faith. 
 This  offer  he  unhesitatingly  rejected,  concluding  his  words  with  this 
 quotation  :— 
 
 "  O  Zejiliyr,  say  from  me  to  Islimael '  destined  for  sacrifice, 
 
 '  It  is  not  a  condition  of  love  to  return  alive   from  the  street  of  the  Friend.' 
 
 Every  one  of  the  seven  met  death  with  like  firmness.  Amongst  them 
 was  an  old  dervish,  named  Kurban  'Alt,  who  also  refused  to  save  his  life 
 by  recantation.  The  first  blow  struck  at  him  by  the  headsman  only 
 wounded  his  neck  slightly  and  cast  his  turban  to  the  ground,  whereupon 
 he  cried  out  as  he  stood  awaiting  the  second  :  — 
 
 "O  happy  tliat  intoxicated  lover,  who  at  the  feet  of  the  Friend 
 Knows  not  whether  it  be  head  or  turban  which  he  casts  ! " 
 
 A  year  elapsed  after  this,  unmarked  by  any  very  noteworthy  event,  so 
 far  as  the  Babi's  are  concerned.  Persecution  went  on  steadily  in  all  parts 
 of  the  country ;  but  the  general  attention  was  somewhat  diverted  from  the 
 Babis  by  the  sudden  disgrace  and  f^tll  of  Mi'rza  Taki  Kha'n,  the  minister  by 
 whose  advice  the  Bab  had  been  put  to  death.  From  disgrace  to  death  is 
 for  a  fallen  minister  but  a  short  step  in  Eastern  lands,  and  even  the  fact 
 that  he  was  married  to  the  Shah's  sister,  who  continually  watched  over  his 
 safety  with  loving  anxiety,  could  not  save  the  once  powerful  noble.  He 
 was  enticed  by  a  cruel  stratagem  out  of  his  wife's  sight,  she  being  informed 
 that  the  Shah  had  once  more  taken  him  into  favour ;  and  even  while  she 
 was  rejoicing  in  his  imagined  safety  his  life-blood  was  flowing  slowly  from 
 his  open  veins.  That  no  drop  of  bitterness  might  be  lacking  from  the 
 cup,  the  executioner,  whose  specious  promises  had  for  a  moment  lulled  to 
 rest  the  unwearying  watchfulness  of  the  minister's  wife,  was  one  who  had 
 been  raised  to  the  Shah's  favour  solely  by  him  whose  fainting  soul  now 
 realized  the  meed  of  those  who  put  their  trust  in  princes,  and  slay  the 
 holy  ones  of  God.  So  perished  Mi'rza  Taki  Khan  in  the  month  of  January, 
 1S52  ;  and  we  can  scarcely  wonder  that  the  Babi's  see  in  the  fate  which 
 overtook  him  a  signal  instance  of  Divine  vengeance. 
 
 Six  months  more  elapsed,  and  then,  in  August,  1852,  an  event  happened 
 which  brought  down  upon  the  Babi's  a  persecution  fiercer  than  any  which 
 they  had  yet  experienced.    A  certain  youth  named  Sadik,  of  Zanjan,  whose 
 
 '  It  was  Ishmael,  not  Isaac,  whom,  according  to  the  Muhammadans,  Abraham  in- 
 tended to  offer  in  sacrifice. 
 
348  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 attachment  to  the  Bdb  had  amounted  almost  to  a  passion,  conceived  in  his 
 mind  a  jjlan  of  taking  vengeance  on  the  tyrant  who  had  slain  his  beloved 
 master  and  ruthlessly  persecuted  all  who  held  the  Babi  faith.  This  plan 
 he  communicated  to  two  of  his  fellow-believers,  and,  early  on  the  morning 
 of  August  15  th,  the  three,  armed  with  pistols  charged  with  shot,  stood  at 
 the  gate  of  the  Shah's  palace  of  Niyavaran,  awaiting  the  moment  when  the 
 king,  surrounded  by  his  nobles,  should  go  forth  to  the  chase.  That  moment 
 came  at  length,  and,  in  the  guise  of  suppliants,  the  avengers  approached. 
 Two  successive  pistol  shots  rang  out  on  the  air,  and  then,  drawing  their 
 knives,  the  three  Babi's  rushed  on  the  Shah  and  tried  to  drag  him  from  his 
 horse.  Ere  they  could  effect  their  object  the  royal  attendants  were  upon 
 them.  Sadik  was  stricken  dead  to  the  ground,  and  his  two  companions 
 were  seized  and  bound.  The  Shah,  slightly  wounded  in  the  back,  had  no 
 sooner  recovered  from  his  alarm  than  he  was  filled  with  terrible  wrath. 
 The  two  siu-viving  Bdbis  were  put  to  the  torture  ;  but,  though  they  avowed 
 their  faith  and  their  object,  they  refused  to  disclose  the  names  of  any  of 
 their  co-religionists,  or  to  divulge  their  places  of  meeting.  I'heir  stubborn 
 reticence  was,  however,  unavailing,  for  a  vigorous  search,  instituted  by  the 
 secret  police  of  Teheran,  resulted  in  the  capture  of  some  forty  Babis,  of 
 whom  a  large  number  were  surprised  in  the  house  of  Suleyman  Khan,  the 
 recoverer  of  the  Bab's  body.  Five  or  six  of  these,  including  Beha  'u  'llah, 
 who  now  claims  the  allegiance  of  the  great  majority  of  the  Babi's,  were 
 spared,  but  all  the  rest  were  doomed  to  die.  Yet  such  was  the  fear  in 
 which  the  new  Prime  Minister  stood  of  incurring  the  vengeance  of  the  sect, 
 that  he  resolved  to  make  all  classes  partners  in  the  slaughter  of  the  pri- 
 soners. To  this  end  he  distributed  these  amongst  the  different  departments 
 of  the  Government,  guilds  of  tradesmen,  and  other  sections  of  the  com- 
 munity, at  the  same  time  hinting  to  each  that  the  Shah  would  be  able  to 
 judge  of  their  loyalty  and  orthodoxy  by  the  manner  in  which  they  dealt 
 with  their  victims.  The  war-office,  the  secretaries  of  State,  the  merchants, 
 the  clergy,  the  dervishes,  the  pages  in  waiting,  even  the  students  of  the 
 University — then  recently  founded  on  a  European  model — each  received 
 their  allotted  prisoner.  Terrible  were  the  modes  of  inflicting  death  which 
 some  of  these,  impelled  eitlier  by  savage  fanaticism,  fear  of  suspicion,  or 
 mere  love  of  cruelty,  devised.  Of  the  unfortunate  Babi's,  some  were 
 hewn  in  pieces,  some  were  sawn  asunder,  some  were  flayed  with  whips, 
 some  were  blown  from  the  mouths  of  mortars.  Suleyman  Khan  was 
 marked  out  by  his  rank,  and  by  the  shelter  which  his  house  had  afforded 
 to  the  proscribed  sect,  for  tortures  yet  more  horrible.  Lighted  wicks  were 
 inserted  in  gashes  inflicted  on  his  limbs  and  body,  and  his  teeth  were 
 wrenched  from  his  mouth  and  driven  into  the  crown  of  his  head.  Yet 
 even  in  his  anguish  he  continued  to  testify  such  rapturous  joy  at  the 
 thought  of  his  pre-eminence  in  suffering  and  martyrdom,  that  his  execu- 
 tioners asked  him  in  bitter  mockery  why  he  did  not  sing.  "Sing!"  he 
 cried,  "  and  so  I  will."     And  thereupon  he  began  to  sing, — 
 
BABflSM.  349 
 
 "In  one  hand  the  wine-cup,  in  the  other  the  locks  of  the  Friend, 
 Such  a  dance  in  the  midst  of  the  market-place  is  my  desire."' 
 
 Amongst  the  victims  of  that  terrible  day  were  two  with  whom  we  have 
 already  become  acquainted.  One  was  Seyyid  Huseyn  of  Yezd,  who,  con- 
 sumed with  the  anguish  of  that  day  when,  in  appearance  at  least,  he  had 
 renounced  his  master,  met  death  not  only  with  resignation,  but  with  un- 
 controllable eagerness.  The  other  was  the  beautiful  and  gifted  Kurratu-'l- 
 'Ayn,  who,  though  for  more  than  a  year  she  had  been  in  close  confinement, 
 and  could  not,  therefore,  have  had  any  part  or  lot  in  the  conspiracy  against 
 the  Shah,  was  too  notable  an  adherent  of  the  new  faith  to  look  for  immunity. 
 Dr.  Polak,  an  Austrian  physician  then  in  the  Shah's  service,  actually  wit- 
 nessed her  execution,  concerning  which  he  writes  i^  "The  beautiful  woman 
 endured  the  lingering  death  with  superhuman  fortitude."  Certain  lines  in 
 some  of  the  poems  attributed  to  her  authorship,  and  still  passionately 
 cherished  by  the  Babi's,  would  tempt  us  to  believe  that  she  had  long  fore- 
 seen the  inevitable  doom  which  awaited  her.  The  following  translation  of 
 one  of  the  most  celebrated  of  these  poems  (of  which  I  received  a  copy 
 from  a  Babi  at  Yezd  in  the  summer  of  1888)  will  suffice  as  an  illustration. 
 In  it  I  have  attempted  to  preserve  the  original  metre  and  rhyme,  and  also 
 to  adhere  strictly  to  the  sense.  Let  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  by  "the 
 Loved  One,"  "  the  Darling,"  and  other  such  terms,  the  Bab  is  throughout 
 intended,  just  as  the  Siifi's  in  their  poems  address  God  as  the  "  Friend," 
 and  the  "Beloved." 
 
 "  The  thralls  of  yearning  love  constrain  in  the  bonds  of  pain  and  calamity 
 These  broken-hearted  lovers  of  thine  to  yield  their  lives  in  their  zeal  for  thee. 
 Though  with  sword  in  hand  my  Darling  stand  with  intent  to  slay,  though  I  sinless 
 
 be, 
 If  it  pleases  him,  this  tyrant's  whim,  I  am  well  content  with  his  tyranny. 
 As  in  sleep   I  lay  at  the  break  of  day  that  cruel  Charmer  came  to  me, 
 And  in  the  grace  of  his  form  and  face  the  dawn  of  the  morn  I  seemed  to  see. 
 
 The  musk  of  Cathay  might  perfume  gain  from  the  scent  those  fragrant  tresses  rain, 
 
 While  his  eyes  demolish  a  faith  in  vain  attacked  by  the  pagans  of  Tarlary. 
 
 With  you,  who  contemn  both   love  and  wine  for  the  hermit's  cell  and  the   zealot's 
 
 shrine, 
 What  can  I  do  ?     For  our  faith  divine  you  hold  as  a  thing  of  infamy. 
 The  tangled  curls    of   thy  darling's  hair,    and    thy  saddle    and    steed  are  thine  only 
 
 care, 
 In  thy  heart  the  Infinite  hath  no  share,  nor  the  thought  of  the  poor  man's  poverty. 
 Sikandar's  pomp  and  display  be  thine,   the  Kalandar s"^  habit  and  way  be  mme  ; 
 That,  if  it  please  thee,    1  resign,  while  this,   though  bad,   is  enough  for  me. 
 The  country  of  '  I '  and  'We'  forsake;  thy  home  in  Annihilation  make, 
 Since  fearing  not  this  step  to  take  thou  shall  gain  the  highest  Felicity."* 
 
 Thus  far  I  have  traced  the  progress  of  the  Babi  movement  in  a  fairly 
 continuous  manner,  although  the  need  of  confining  myself  within  certain 
 limits  has  compelled  me  to  omit  much  of  which  I  would  fain  have  spoken. 
 
 '  This  couplet  is  from  a  well-known  ode  in  the  Divan  of  Shams-i-Tabriz. 
 
 2  VcA-xVi,  Persien:  das  Land  iind  seine  Bewohner  [l.e\Y>2.\g,  1865),  vol.  i.  p.  353- 
 
 *  A  Kalandar  is  a  kind  of  dervish  or  religious  mendicant. 
 
 *  This  translation  I  first  published  in  i\\Q  Journal  of  the  Royal  Asiatic  Society  for  18S9. 
 
350  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF    THE    WORLD. 
 
 We  have  now  reached  a  point  where  the  scene  and  the  characters  are  in 
 great  measure  changed ;  and  indeed  it  would  hardly  be  too  much  to  say 
 that  we  have  now  entered  on  a  new  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  faith.  That 
 I  should  strive  to  make  clear  the  beginnings  of  that  faith  was  essential,  but 
 space  does  not  permit  me  to  do  more  than  sketch  in  outline  its  more 
 recent  developments.  My  desire  a,t  present  is  rather  to  awaken  your 
 interest  and  sympathy  in  an  heroic  struggle,  which  I  do  not  hesitate  to  call 
 the  greatest  religious  movement  of  the  century,  than  t;o  communicate  to 
 you  the  latest  results  of  research. 
 
 The  centre  of  the  movement,  then,  is  transferred  frojn  Persia,n  to  Turkish 
 territory  ;  to  be  more  precise,  Baghdad,  becomes  for  the  next  eleven  years 
 the  abode  of  such  of  the  Babi  leaders  as  escaped  the  terrible  devastation 
 ot  1852.  Thither  fled  Mirza  Yahya  "  Siibh-i-Ezel"  who,  as  I  have  already 
 mentioned,  became,  on  the  death  of  the  Bab,  the  chief  "  Letter  "  of  the 
 "  Unity."  He  was  soon  followed  by  his  half-brother,  Beha  'u  'llah  (also  a 
 member  of  the  Unity),  who,  having  narrowly  escaped  death,  now  found 
 release  from  the  prison  into  which  he  had  b^en  ca,st.  In  Persia  persecu- 
 tion continued  with  varying  severity,  and  continually  was  the  Babi  colony 
 at  Baghdad  recruited  by  exiles  forced  to  fly  from  their  own  homes.  Every 
 effort  was  made  by  the  Persian  authorities  to  molest  and  injure  the  fugi- 
 tives, who,  as  a  last  resource,  enrolled  themselves  as  Turkish  subjects.  By 
 this  device  they  at  length  obtained  some  peace  and  security,  for,  whatever 
 prejudiced  persons  may  assert  to  the  contrary,  the  Turkish  Government 
 is  on  the  whole  both  tolerant  and  just,  at  all  events  in  comparison  with 
 Persia.  For  twelve  years,  then,  the  Babi  leaders  dwelt  here,  engaged  in 
 writing,  codifying,  and  diffusing  their  religion,  and  exhorting  their  followers 
 to  refrain  from  all  resistance  to  the  authorities  and,  by  virtuous  lives, 
 patient  resignation,  and  kindly  dealing  with  all  men,  to  commend  their 
 faith  to  the  whole  world.  So  far  did  they  succeed  that  from  the  year  1852 
 until  the  present  time,  the  Babi's  have  patiently  and  unresistingly  sub- 
 mitted to  all  the  i)ersecutions  which  they  hc'\ve  suffered  and  still  do  suffer. 
 
 In  the  year  1864,  the  Persian  Government  induced  the  Turkish  authori- 
 ties to  transfer  the  Babi  exiles  farther  from  their  frontier — first  to  Constanti- 
 nople and  then  to  Adrianople,  Now  while  they  were  at  Adrianople  a  great 
 event  took  place,  which  had  the  effect  of  dividing  the  Babis  into  two 
 antagonistic  parties.  Subh-i-Ezel,  as  I  have  explained,  had  hitherto  been 
 generally  acknowledged  as  the  legitimate  successor  of  the  Bab,  and  the 
 visible  head  of  the  Babi  faith.  But,  as  I  have  also  explained,  the  Bab  had 
 declared  that  his  revelation  was  not  final,  and  thqt  he  would,  at  some  future 
 time  not  specified,  be  succeeded  by  "  Him  whom  God  shall  manifest."  It 
 was  generally  believed  that  this  new  manifestation  would  not  take  place  for 
 at  least  a  thousand  years,  ere  the  lapse  of  which  many  countries  should 
 have  accepted  the  religion  of  the  Bab.  At  the  same  time  the  IJab  had  laid 
 it  down  that  the  time  of  tliis  promised  deliverer's  advent  was  known  only 
 to  God,  that  no  one  could  falsely  claim  to  be  him,  that  he  would  appear 
 
BAB/ IS  AT.  351 
 
 suddenly  and  unexpectedly,  and  that  when  he  appeared  the  fullest  au- 
 thority to  confirm  or  annul,  to  bind  or  to  loose,  was  his  indisputable 
 prerogative.  So,  when  Beha  'u  'llah  suddenly  declared  that  he  was  their 
 promised  deliverer,  whose  manifestation  they  so  eagerly  expected,  and 
 warned  all  the  liabi's  not  to  remain  "  veiled,"  as  the  Muhammadans  had 
 done,  the  greater  number  at  once  acknowledged  his  authority,  received 
 his  words  as  divinely  inspired,  and  yielded  to  him  an  implicit  and  unquali- 
 fied submission.  So  for  these  Beha'i's,  as  they  are  now  called,  the  writings 
 of  the  Bab  became  an  old  testament,  and  the  ordinances  of  the  Beydn  an 
 abrogated  law.  But  not  all  of  the  Babi's  were  content  to  accept  this  super- 
 seding of  a  law  not  yet  much  more  than  twenty  years  old.  Subh-i-Ezel 
 himself  declined  to  acknowledge  Beha  'u  'llah's  claim,  or  to  abdicate  in  his 
 favour,  and  a  minority  of  the  Babi's  (now  called  Ezeli's)  refused  to  withdraw 
 their  allegiance  from  him  or  acknowledge  another  chief  Dissensions 
 naturally  arose,  which  culminated  in  the  interference  of  the  Turkish  govern- 
 ment and  the  final  separation  of  the  rival  heads.  Subh-i-Ezel  was  sent  to 
 Famagusta  in  Cyprus,  and  Beha  'u  'llah  to  Acre  in  Syria,  and  there  they 
 remain  to  the  present  day,  the  former  surrounded  by  a  very  few,  the  latter 
 by  many  devoted  adherents.  Less  than  a  year  ago  I  visited  both  places, 
 and  heard  both  sides  of  a  long  and  tangled  controversy.  But  the  upshot 
 of  the  whole  matter  is,  that  out  of  every  hundred  Babi's  probably  not  more 
 than  three  or  four  are  EzeUs,  all  the  rest  accepting  Beha  'u  'Hah  as  the  final 
 and  most  perfect  manifestation  of  the  Truth. 
 
 Having  now  traced  very  briefly  the  later  history  of  the  sect,  I  must  add 
 some  few  words  as  to  the  most  salient  features  of  their  faith.  To  discuss  this 
 fully  would  need  more  time  tlian  has  been  allotted  to  me  altogether,  and  I 
 am  therefore  forced  to  enumerate  such  points  as  have  not  already  been 
 alluded  to  in  the  merest  outline.  God^one,  eternal,  incomprehensible — re- 
 veals to  man  so  much  as  he  can  apprehend  of  truth  by  means  of  an  endless 
 but  intermittent  succession  of  prophets.  The  essence  of  their  teaching  is,  in 
 reality,  one  and  the  same;  for  the  same  universal  wisdom  speaks,  and  the  same 
 divine  will  acts  through  all  of  them.  But  as  man  advances  and  evolves  his 
 latent  potentialities,  he  needs  a  fuller  light,  and  can  bear  a  clearer  teaching. 
 We  tell  a  child  that  knowledge  is  sweet.  '*  Is  it  sweet  like  sugar  ?  "  it  asks. 
 And  we,  because  we  wish  to  teach  it  to  love  knowledge,  are  compelled  to 
 speak  in  that  language  which  it  can  understand,  and  which,  to  it,  is  the 
 nearest  approach  to  absolute  truth  attainable,  and  answer,  "  Yes  ;  sweet 
 like  sugar."  So  it  is  with  man,  for  the  human  race  has  an  infancy,  a  child- 
 hood, a  youth,  a  maturity.  And  now,  in  its  maturity,  those  illustrations 
 sufficient  for  and  adapted  to  its  infancy  are  no  longer  suitable.  Heaven  is 
 true,  but  it  is  a  state,  not  a  place.  "  If  to-day  any  one  believes  in  the 
 Beyan,"  says  the  Bab,  "he  is  seated  on  a  throne  of  glory,  though  he  be 
 seated  in  the  dust."  So  too  wherever  an  unbeliever  dwells,  there  is  the 
 "  Land  of  Fire."  There  is  a  resurrection,  but  it  is  not  that  which  men  have 
 imagined  ;  each  "  manifestation  "  of  the  divine  wisdom  in  human  form  is 
 
352  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  "  resurrection  "  of  that  which  preceded  it,  wherein  the  fruit  is  reaped 
 of  the  seed  then  sown.  That  is  the  "judgment,"  that  is  the  "  meeting 
 with  God,"  and  the  angels  are  the  reapers  who  go  forth  to  gather  in 
 what  is  ripe  and  good.  And  thus  it  is  that,  according  to  whether  they 
 are  addressing  a  Muhammadan,  a  Christian,  or  a  Jew,  the  Babis  say 
 that  the  Imam  Mahdi  has  come,  that  Christ  has  returned,  or  that  Moses 
 has  reappeared  on  earth  ;  for  to  them  all  these  phrases  signify  the  same 
 thing.  As  to  the  belief  in  a  future  life,  it  is  there,  but  it  is  not  promi- 
 nent. A  universal  reign  of  peace,  love,  freedom,  and  unity  of  belief 
 and  effort  is  the  thing  primarily  aimed  at  ;  for  Babiism,  in  spite  of  the 
 mystic  enthusiasm  which  pervades  it,  differs  from  Siiliism  in  the  essen- 
 tially practical  objects  which  it  has  in  view.  A  material  resurrection  is 
 denied,  and  the  immaterial  future  of  the  spirit  must  not  divert  our 
 thoughts  from  the  work  of  regenerating  the  world.  War  must  cease, 
 nations  must  mingle  in  friendship,  justice  must  become  universal,  all  men 
 must  be  as  brothers.  "  Ye  are  all  the  fruit  of  one  tree,"  says  Beha,  "  and 
 the  leaves  of  one  branch.  Walk,  then,  with  perfect  charity,  concord,  affec- 
 tion, and  agreement,  for  I  swear  by  the  Sun  of  Truth  that  the  light  of 
 agreement  shall  brighten  and  illumine  the  horizons."  So  again  he  says, 
 "  Pride  is  not  for  him  who  loveth  his  country,  but  rather  for  him  who 
 loveth  the  whole  world."  "  As  for  those  who  commit  sin  and  cling  to  the 
 world,"  he  says  elsewhere,  "  they  are  assuredly  not  of  the  people  of  Beha." 
 "  Religious  hatred  and  rancour  is  a  world-consuming  fire,"  we  read  in 
 another  place,  "  and  the  quenching  thereof  most  arduous,  unless  the  hand 
 of  Divine  Might  give  man  deliverance  from  this  unfruitful  calamity."  People 
 of  all  creeds  are  to  be  associated  with  in  a  fair  and  friendly  spirit,  not 
 shunned  as  unclean  or  treated  as  foes.  Persuasion  may  be  used  to  gain 
 converts,  but  the  employment  of  force  is  hateful  to  God.  "  If  ye  be  slain, 
 it  is  better  for  you  than  that  ye  should  slay."  The  diffusion  of  knowledge 
 is  a  most  laudable  thing,  for,  says  Beha,  "  he  who  educateth  his  son,  or  one 
 of  the  sons  of  another,  it  is  as  thougli  he  had  educated  one  of  my  sons." 
 But  studies  like  logic  and  philosophy,  which  conduce  only  to  disputation, 
 are  discouraged.  The  study  of  living  languages  is,  on  the  other  hand,  en- 
 couraged, since  it  conduces  to  the  closer  union  of  diverse  peoples.  It  is, 
 however,  recommended  that  in  course  of  time  one  language  (either  one  ot 
 those  at  jiresent  existing,  or  a  new  universal  language)  and  one  writing  be 
 chosen  by  the  assembled  representatives  of  the  different  nations,  and  that 
 tliese  be  taught  to  every  one,  so  that  thenceforth  there  may  be  no  obstacle 
 to  the  free  intercourse  of  all  mankind. 
 
 I  trust  that  I  have  told  you  enough  to  make  it  clear  that  the  objects  at 
 which  this  religion  aims  are  neither  trivial  nor  unworthy  of  the  noble  self- 
 devotion  and  heroism  of  the  I'ounder  and  his  followers.  It  is  the  lives  and 
 deaths  of  these,  their  hope  which  knows  no  despair,  their  love  which  knows 
 no  cooling,  their  steadfastness  which  knows  no  wavering,  which  stamp  this 
 wonderful  movement  with  a  character  entirely  its  own.     For  whatever  may 
 
B  Alii  ISM.  353 
 
 be  the  merits  or  demerits  of  the  doctrines  for  which  these  scores  and  hun- 
 dreds of  our  fellow-men  died,  they  have  at  least  found  something  which 
 made  them  ready  to 
 
 "leave  all  things  under  the  sky, 
 And  go  forth  naked  under  sun  and  rain, 
 And  woik  and  wait  and  watch  out  all  their  years." 
 
 It  is  not  a  small  or  easy  thing  to  endure  what  these  have  endured,  and 
 surely  what  they  deemed  worth  life  itself  is  worth  trying  to  understand.  I 
 say  nothing  of  the  mighty  influence  which,  as  I  believe,  the  Babi  faith  will 
 exert  in  the  future,  nor  of  the  new  life  it  may  perchance  breathe  into  a  dead 
 people ;  for,  whether  it  succeed  or  fail,  the  splendid  heroism  of  the  Babi 
 martyrs  is  a  thing  eternal  and  indestructible. 
 
 "  He  whose  soul  by  love  is  quickened  never  can  to  death  be  hurled; 
 Written  is  their  life  immortal  in  the  records  of  the  world." 
 
 But  what  I  cannot  hope  to  have  conveyed  to  you  is  the  terrible  earnest- 
 ness of  these  men,  and  the  indescribable  influence  which  this  earnestness, 
 combined  with  other  qualities,  exerts  on  any  one  who  has  actually  been 
 brought  in  contact  with  them.     That  you  must  take  my  word  for,  or  else — 
 
 "  Cliii  dar  rah  bi-bini  buride  sari, 
 Ki  ghaltdii  shavad  su-yi-vieyddn-i-md, 
 Azd  purs,  azu  purs  as9-dr-i-md, 
 Kazd  bishnavi  sirr-i-panhan-i-md." 
 
 "  When  thou  seest  in  the  path  a  severed  head 
 Which  is  rolling  towards  our  field, 
 Ask  of  it,  ask  of  it  our  secrets, 
 For  from  it  thou  may'st  hear  our  hidden  mystery."  ' 
 
 ^  From  the  DLvin  of  Shams-i-Tabriz. 
 
 A   A 
 
THE  RELIGIONS  OF  ANXIEKT  AMERICA. 
 
 By  John  M.  Robertson. 
 
 Ix  the  study  of  the  njitive  rehgions  of  North  and  South  America,  there  is 
 a  special  attraction  bound  up  witli  the  special  perplexity  of  tlie  subject. 
 These  religions,  like  the  races  which  have  held  them,  seem  to  stand  his- 
 torically apart  from  the  rest  of  humanity,  unrelated,  underived,  independ- 
 ent. The  first  question  that  occurs  to  the  ethnologist  when  he  looks  at 
 the  native  American  races  is,  How  and  when  did  they  get  there  ?  With 
 which  of  the  other  human  families  are  they  most  nearly  connected  ?  And 
 though  in  the  past  this  question  used  to  be  put  on  the  traditional  assump- 
 tion of  an  original  creation  of  one  human  pair,  from  whom  all  mankind 
 are  descended,  it  is  still  perfectly  relevant  to  the  present  state  of  science, 
 since  the  most  plausible  and  economical  hypothesis  in  regard  to  human 
 evolution  is  that  the  development  of  early  man  from  some  apelike  form 
 went  on,  however  slowly,  over  one  particular  area,  and  not  independently 
 in  widely  separate  parts  of  the  world  at  the  same  time.  That  is  to  say,  in 
 the  present  state  of  knowledge,  we  still  surmise  a  unity  in  the  human  race, 
 and  hesitate  to  believe  that  different  human  species  were  independently 
 evolved  from  lower  forms  in  different  continents,  acquiring  the  same 
 •physical  structure  under  widely  varying  conditions. 
 
 It  is  therefore  perfectly  fitting  that  ethnologists  should  try  to  see  if  they 
 cannot  trace  a  connection  between  the  native  races  of  America  and  the 
 races  of  Asia,  which    are  the   nearest  to  them  in  geographical  position. 
 Until  that  hypothesis  is  either  established  or  overthrown,  our  anthropology 
 and  our  moral  science  must  remain  in  large  part  unsettled.     Dr.  Re'ville, 
 who   seven    years  ago    delivered  a    course    of  lectures   for   the   Hibbert 
 Trustees  on  the  American  religions,  argues  that  "  we  may  safely  leave  to 
 ethnologists  the  task  of  deciding  whether  the  whole  human  race  descends 
 from  one  original  couple  or  from  many  ;  for,  spiritually  speaking,  humanity 
 in  any  case  is  one.     It  is  one  same  spirit  that  animates  it  and  is  developed 
 in  it ;  and  this,  the  incontestable  unity  of  our  race,  is  likewise  the  only 
 unity  we  need  care  to  insist  on."  ^     Ikit  it  is  clear — and  the  phraseology 
 betrays  the  fact — that  this  defines  rather  the  theological  than  the  scientific 
 attitude  :  for  the  very  question  whether  an  alleged  spiritual  unity  is  inde- 
 l)endent  of  a  biological  or  genealogical  unity,  is  one  of  the  preliminary 
 ])roblems  of  true  "  spiritual  "  .science.     And   Dr.    Reville   furnishes  other 
 proofs  that  moral  science  needs  for  its  proper  cultivation  another  method 
 and  another  bias  than  is  set  up  by  a  theological  training. 
 
 '  Hibbert  Lectures,  1884,  on  the  Native  Religions  of  Mexico  and  I'ciu,  p.  40. 
 
 354 
 
THE   RELIGIONS   OF  ANCIENT  AMERICA.,  355 
 
 As  we  go  into  detail,  we  shall  see  some  remarkable  coincidences  be- 
 tween American  and  Asiatic  and  European  religious  systems  ;  and  until 
 we  determine  whether  the  different  peoples  branched  off  from  one  com- 
 mon stock,  after  it  had  grown  definitely  human,  our  notions  of  mental 
 evolution  must  remain  open  to  much  vicissitude.  Dr.  Reville  is  prepared 
 to  set  down  all  resemblances  to  a  natural  law  or  logic  of  human  nature. 
 ]]at  our  conception  of  that  natural  law  must  alter  a  good  deal  according 
 as  we  decide  that  certain  peculiar  superstitions  and  ritual  practices  were 
 reached  alike  by  various  races  who  grew  separately  out  of  pre-human 
 species,  and  these  out  of  still  lower  species,  in  different  parts  of  the  world, 
 without  intermixture  ;  or  decide  that  the  whole  of  the  man-like  family 
 developed  inter-connectedly  over  one  area,  and  that  the  different  races 
 now  existing  did  not  branch  off  from  the  central  stem  till  they  had  already 
 acquired  what  we  call  human  characteristics — that  is,  tintil  they  had 
 reached  the  stage  of  using  weapons  and  fire. 
 
 Suppose,  for  instance,  that  the  American  races  came  some  thousands 
 of  years  ago  from  Asia,  and  that  they  are  kindred  to  the  earlier  Asiatic 
 races  :  they  would  already  have  a  body  of  myths  and  a  certain  religious 
 bias  in  common  with  peoples  whose  descendants  subsist  in  Asia  ;  and  the 
 coincidences  in  their  religion  would  have  to  be  pronounced  historical,  that 
 is,  they  represent  a  sequence  of  phenomena  substantially  determined  by 
 one  original  set  of  conditions  within  a  given  era  and  territory.  If,  on  the 
 other  hand,  you  suppose  that  evolution  proceeded  in  different  parts  of  the 
 planet  on  identical  lines  from  the  lowest  forms  of  life  through  many  others, 
 up  to  the  anthropoid  and  the  human, ^  your  whole  conception  of  evolutionary 
 law  is  affected,  and  that  in  turn  must  affect  your  philosophy.  In  fine,  we 
 must  take  account  of  all  phenomen^^,  all  science,  in  forming  our  philo- 
 sophy, if  that  is  to  be  scientific  ;  and  the  method  of  Dr.  Reville,  though 
 an  improvement  on  that  of  the  churches,  must  be  dismissed  as  incomplete. 
 
 Now,  I  will  suggest  to  you  the  high  probability — I  do  not  call  it  more — 
 that  the  American  races  did  come  from  Asia  not  very  many  thousands  of 
 years  ago  by  way  of  Behring's  Straits  ^  in  the  extreme  north,  at  a  time 
 when  men  had  already  learned  the  primary  arts  of  civilization.  Of  course 
 that  may  represent  a  very  distant  antiquity  indeed ;  for  we  must  allow 
 
 ^  As  to  the  possibility  of  such  an  evolution  in  America,  Haeckel  gives  an  emphatic 
 negative.  Putting  the  two  hypotlieses  of  immigration  from  north-east  Asia  and  from 
 Polynesia,  he  adds:  "In  any  case  the  original  inhabitants  of  America  came  from  the 
 Old  World,  and  are  certainly  not,  as  some  suppose,  evolved  from  American  apes. 
 Catarrhine  or  small-nosed  apes  have  at  no  period  existed  in  America."  Xatiirliche 
 SchopfiDjgsgischichte,  2te  Aufi.  .S.  613.  The  fact  that  men  are  so  much  alike  in  the 
 two  hemispheres,  while  the  animals  are  so  widely  different,  seems  in  itself  decisive. 
 
 ^  See  Oscar  Peschel's  "  Races  of  iMan,"  Eng.  tr.  p.  400,  ff.  At  Behring's  Straits 
 Asia  and  America  are  within  sight  of  each  other.  And  if  we  suppose  a  migration  of 
 tribes  like  the  KamtskLidals,  who  easily  bear  extreme  cold,  being  but  slightly  civilized, 
 we  dispose  of  all  such  difficulties  as  the  suggestion  that  pastoral  Mongols  would  never 
 have  crossed  without  some  of  their  animals.  Prescott,  however,  remarks  that  "it  would 
 he  easy  for  the  inhabitant  of  Eastern  Tartary  or  Japan  to  steer  his  course  from  islet  to 
 islet,  quite  across  to  the  American  shore,  without  ever  being  on  the  ocean  more  than  two 
 days  at  a  time."     "  Conquest  of  Mexico,"  App.  Part  I. 
 
356  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 greater  and  greater  periods  for  evolution  as  we  go  back  from  the  stage  of 
 tribal  savagery  to  those  in  which  men  would  be,  from  our  point  of  view, 
 only  doubtfully  human.  But  though  the  difficulty  of  proving  affinities  of 
 language  between  American  and  Asiatic  races  is  great,  and  we  seem  thus 
 bound  to  suppose  a  very  remote  separation  indeed  ;  on  the  other  hand, 
 the  observed  facts  as  to  the  rapid  changes  of  language  among  South  Sea 
 islanders,  when  isolated  from  each  other,  go  to  suggest  that  very  wide 
 deviation  may  occur  in  a  few  thousands  of  years  among  people  of  one 
 stock  who  have  separated  at  a  stage  in  which  they  have  no  literature,  no 
 word  signs,  and  only  the  merest  beginnings  of  a  ritual.  Beyond  this 
 hypothesis  we  need  not  go.  The  question  is  one  for  the  solution  of  which 
 we  have  not  yet  sufficient  materials,^  since  we  have  yet  to  cultivate  pro- 
 perly many  of  the  lines  of  research  on  which  that  solution  must  depend  ; 
 and  it  must  be  admitted  that  some  ethnoloc;isls  have  thus  far  come  to  their 
 conclusions  in  a  sufficiently  irresponsible  fashion.  It  has  been  said  of 
 Pickering,  for  instance,  that  he  set  up  a  connection  between  the  Malay 
 and  the  Californian  because  each  had  an  open  countenance,  one  wife,  and 
 no  tomahawk. 2  Happily  we  need  not  resort  to  such  inductions  as  these. 
 Nor  need  we  be  deterred  from  the  scientific  search  by  the  fact  that  some 
 of  the  guesses  made  have  been  wildly  absurd.  There  is  said  to  be  widely 
 current  in  Peru  a  legend,  fully  believed  by  the  natives,  that  the  name  of 
 the  first  Inca,  Manco  Capac,  arose  in  the  actual  advent  of  a  shipwrecked 
 Englishman,  who  got  to  be  known  as  Ijigasma?i,  and  who  married  the 
 daughter  of  one  Cocapac,  his  son  being  accordingly  called  Ingasman 
 Cocapac,  wiience  the  name  and  title  Inca  Manco  Capac?"  That  is  funny 
 enough  ;  but  we  need  not  tiierefore  i)roceed  with  Dr.  Re'ville  dogmatically 
 to  decide  that  ^^  everything  shoics  that  the  civilizations  of  Mexico  and  Peru 
 are  autochthonous,  springing  frovi  the  soil  itself."  ■*  To  make  a  statement  like 
 that,  without  any  biological  evidence  on  which  to  found  it,  is  no  more 
 reasonable  than  the  method  of  happy-go-lucky  guess. 
 
 We  cannot  linger,  however,  over  this  side  of  the  question  ;  and  indeed 
 we  can  here  only  glance  at  one  which  lies  closer  to  our  main  theme — that, 
 
 A  number  of  extraordinary  correspondences,  however,  have  been  traced — that,  for 
 instance,  lietween  the  Aztec  calendar  sij^iis  and  the  Mongolian  zodiac.  "The  symbols 
 m  the  Mongolian  calendar  arc  borrowed  from  animals.  Four  of  the  twelve  are  the  same 
 as  the  Aztec.  Three  others  are  as  nearly  the  same  as  the  different  species  of  animals 
 in  the  two  hemispheres  would  allow.  The  remaining  five  refer  to  no  creature  then  found 
 in  Anahuac.  The  resemblance  went  as  far  as  it  could."  (Prescott,  App.  i. )  Such  a 
 correspondence  must  be  allowed  to  count  for  much.  A  line  of  investigation  that  might 
 be  worth  pursuing  is  suggested  by  the  similarities  of  Mexican  employment  of  colour  in 
 art  with  Chinese  and  Japanese  methods.  There  is  also  a  curious  similarity  in  the  folding 
 of  Mexican  and  Japanese  books.  Hut  that,  it  must  be  admitted,  would  suggest  a  later 
 separation  than  has  been  above  surmised.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  parallels  in 
 .xstnjiiomical  science. 
 
 *  n.  II.  Hancroft,  "  Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  Slates,"  i.  24. 
 
 U.  15.  Stevenson,  "Twenty  Years'   Residence  in  South  America,"  1S25,   i.   394-6. 
 Stevenson  gives  the  story  as  a  purely  native  invention. 
 
 *  Lectures  cited,   p.    242.      Dr.    Rcville,   singularly    enough,    mentions   all   tlie   weak 
 hypotheses,  but  docs  not  allude  to  that  of  a  migration  by  Behiing's  Straits. 
 
THE   RELIGIONS   OF  ANCIENT  AMERICA.  357 
 
 namely,  of  the  connection  of  the  different  peoples  of  Ancient  America 
 with  each  other.  For  among  these  there  is  fully  as  much  variation  as  is 
 found  among  the  peoples  of  Europe.  To  go  no  farther,  the  Aztecs  or 
 Mexicans  differ  noticeably  in  certain  physical  characteristics  from  the 
 Redskins ;  and  these  again  show  considerable  variations  of  type.  A 
 decisive  theory  of  the  culture-histories  of  these  peoples  cannot  yet  be 
 constructed,  inasmuch  as  we  are  still  very  much  in  the  dark  as  to  the 
 civilizations  which  existed  in  Central  and  South  America  before  those  of 
 Mexico  and  I'eru.  For  the  title  of  this  lecture,  "The  Religions  o(  Ancien/ 
 America,"  is  only  designed  to  mark  off  the  religions  flourishing  so  lately 
 as  four  hundred  years  ago,  and  the  aboriginal  religions  still  existing,  from 
 that  Christian  religion  which  was  introduced  into  Mexico  and  Peru  by  the 
 Spaniards,  and  into  North  America  by  the  English  and  French.  The  two 
 religious  systems  we  have  chiefly  to  consider,  the  Mexican  and  Peruvian 
 as  they  existed  before  the  Spanish  Concjuest,  are  not  very  ancient  in  their 
 developed  form  ;  because  even  the  two  civilizations  were  comparatively 
 modern.  The  Aztecs  and  the  Peruvians  only  professed  to  date  back  a 
 few  centuries  from  the  Conquest ;  and  in  both  Peru  and  Mexico  there 
 were  and  still  are  the  architectural  remains  of  civilizations,  some  of  which 
 were  themselves  so  ancient  ^  as  to  be  unintelligible  to  the  nations  found 
 by  the  Spaniards.  Thus,  near  Lake  Titicaca  in  Peru  ^  there  are  remains 
 of  structures  which  by  their  size  suggested  giant  builders,  the  work  of  a 
 race  of  whom  the  Incas  had  no  knowledge  ;  and  yet  further  there  are 
 remains,  of  rude  circles  of  standing  stones  which  presumably  belonged  to 
 a  primitive  civilization  more  ancient  still.  So  in  Mexico,  there  are  ancient 
 remains  such  as  those  at  ralan(iue,  which  suggest  a  civilization  higher,  on 
 the  side  of  art  and  architecture,  and  at  the  same  time  much  older,  than 
 that  of  the  Aztecs.^  All  we  can  say  with  any  safety  is  that,  as  it  was  put  by 
 Buckle,  the  earlier  civilizations  grew  up  in  those  regions  where  there  were 
 combined  the  conditions  of  a  regular,  easy,  and  abundant  food  suppl)', 
 namely,  heat  and  moisture,  without  an  overwhelming  proportion  of  the 
 latter,  such  as  occurs  in  Brazil.  Now,  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  needs 
 of  an  early  civilization,  the  golden  mean  occurs,  in  South  America,  only 
 in  the  territories  which  were  covered  by  the  empire  of  the  Incas,  and 
 farther  north,  from  the  Isthmus  of  Panama  to  Mexico.  We  surmise  then 
 a  long-continued  movement  of  population  southwards,  one  wave  pushing 
 on  another  ahead  of  it,  till  some  reached  Patagonia.  After  a  time,  how- 
 ever, there  might  be  refluxes.  It  is  admitted  that  Mexican  tradition  points 
 to  early  developments  of  civilization  about  the  Isthmus  and  Central 
 America,  and  then  waves  of  migration  and  conquest  northwards.  And 
 then,  in  accordance  with  the  law  that  an  already  civilized  people  can  get 
 good  results  out  of  a  territory  which  could  not  originate  a  civilization,'^  it 
 
 '  See  E.  B.  Tylor  ("  Anahuac,"  p.  189),  as  to  the  pie-Toltec  civilization  of  jNIexico. 
 2  Squier,  "  rcru,"  1S77,  ch.  20.  ^  15ancroft,  iv.  289-346. 
 
 "  Dr.   Tylor  ("  Anahuac,"  p.    192)  has  some  remarks  on  this  head,  to  which  I  can 
 atta:li  no  definite  meauiiit:. 
 
3S8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 may  have  been  that  some  of  these  early  nations  were  driven  north  of 
 Mexico,  and  so  established  those  forgotten  States  of  which  the  mysterious 
 and  fascinating  remains  have  been  discovered  in  modern  times.  And  it 
 may  have  been  that  the  people  called  the  Toltecs,  who  flourished  in 
 Mexico  before  the  Aztecs,  represented  yet  again  a  backflow  of  one  of 
 these  peoples  from  the  north,  according  to  the  tradition.^  All  that  we 
 know  is,  that  Mexico  remained  the  seat  of  the  most  flourishing  empires, 
 mainly  because  it  could  best  yield  an  abundant  and  regular  supply  of 
 vegetable  food,  as  maize  ;  and  that  when  Cortes  invaded  it,  the  civilization 
 of  the  Aztecs,  who  constituted  the  greatest  of  the  several  Mexican  States 
 then  existing,  was  among  the  most  remarkable.- 
 
 And  herein  lies  the  fascination  of  these  civilizations,  with  their  religions, 
 that  they  supply  us  with  a  set  of  results  practically  independent  of  all  the 
 known  history  of  Europe  and  Asia.  It  has  been  remarked  that  the  great 
 drawback  of  most  of  the  mental  or  human  sciences  is  that  they  do  not 
 admit  of  experiments  as  do  the  physical  sciences.  You  must  take  the 
 phenomena  you  get  and  try  to  account  for  them,  with  no  aid  from  planned 
 repetitions  of  cases.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  human  sciences  have 
 an  enormous  wealth  of  data  lying  ready  to  hand,  and  some  departments 
 of  these  data  have  for  us  the  effect  of  new  revelations  in  human  affairs. 
 After  we  become  absorbed  in  the  conception  of  European  civilization, 
 with  its  beginnings,  on  the  one  hand  in  Aryan  barbarism,  on  the  other  in 
 the  Eastern  and  Egypto-Semitic  culture,  we  seem  to  be  shut  up  to  a 
 certain  body  of  conclusions  about  human  nature  and  its  tendencies 
 of  thought  and  action.  What  is  much  worse,  we  have  the  conclusions 
 presented  to  us  ready  made  in  terms  of  the  reigning  religion,  which 
 takes  all  previous  life  as  so  much  preparation,  planned  by  a  sagacious 
 Deity,  for  its  own  particular  way  of  looking  at  life ;  and  when  we 
 determine  to  think  out  matters  on  some  saner  principle,  we  find  our 
 path  cumbered  at  every  step  by  falsified  records  and  prejudiced 
 evidence.  We  can  hardly  touch  ancient  civilization  without  stirring  the 
 mud  which  Christian  propaganda  has  thrown  at  it,  or  the  dust  which  the 
 same  spirit  has  elsewhere  allowed  to  cover  it.  But  when  we  go  to  the 
 records  of  the  cultures  and  creeds  of  Mexico  and  Peru,  records  wonder- 
 fully preserved  in  the  teeth  of  the  fanaticism  which  would  have  destroyed 
 them  all  if  it  could,  we  stand  clear  of  the  frauds  and  prejudices  alike 
 of  Jew  and  Christian  ;  we  are  in  a  measure  spared  the  eternal  contrast 
 between  pretended  monotheism  and  polytheism,  the  eternal  suggestion  of 
 the  possible  diffusion  of  revealed  truth, -^  the  perpetual  comparison  between 
 
 '  Compare  ch.  i.  of  Prcscott's  "Conquest  of  Mexico,"  and  J.  Y.  Kirk's  notes  on  it 
 (Sonnensciifin's  edition)  witii  Kcviile,  Lect.  i.  But  the  tradition  may  also  derive  from 
 the  general  movement  of  popidation  southwards. 
 
 *  The  Tezcucan  civilization  seems  to  have  been  more  intellectual  than  that  of  Mexico 
 proper.     .See  Frescotf,  B.  i.  c.  6,  end. 
 
 *  That  is,  now.  Lonl  Kingsborouyh  wrought  hard  in  the  last  generation  to  prove  tliat 
 the    Biblical   system  was  known   to  the  Mexicans  ;  autl   there  was  an   early  theory  that 
 
THE   RELIGIONS   OF  ANCIENT  AMERICA.  359 
 
 Cliristendom  and  Paganism.  We  are  faced  by  a  civilization  and  a  religion 
 that  reached  wealth  and  complexity  by  a  free  growth  from  the  stage  of 
 early  savagery,  without  ever  coming  in  contact  with  that  of  Asia  and 
 Europe  till  the  moment  of  collision  and  destruction.  And  to  study  these 
 American  civilizations  aright  is  to  learn  with  clearness  lessons  in  sociology, 
 or  Iiuman  science  in  general,  which  otherwise  could  only  have  been 
 reached  imperfectly  and  with  difticulty.  The  culture-histories  of  the  two 
 hemispheres,  put  side  by  side,  illuminate  each  other  as  do  the  facts  ot 
 comparative  anatomy. 
 
 The  history  of  the  Old  World  has  taught  us  how  large  a  part  is  played 
 by  religion  in  human  affairs,  how  much  of  men's  intellectual  energy  tends 
 to  be  spent  on  hallucinations  in  the  absence  of  knowledge ;  but  nowhere 
 is  this  truth  so  palpable  as  in  old  Mexico  and  Peru.     If  we  can  trust  the 
 Spanish  writers, 1  five  thousand  priests  were  connected  with  the  principal 
 temple  in  the  city  of  Mexico  alone,  where  there  were  in  all  some   600 
 temples,  and  where  the  total  population  was  perhaps  about  300,000  ;  -  and 
 all   the   cities  were  divided   into   districts    placed   under   the   charge   ot 
 parochial  clergy,  who   regulated  all  acts  of  religion.     In   this   enormous 
 strength  of  the  priestly  class  we  have  the  secret  of  that  frightful  develop- 
 ment  of  religious  delusion   and  its   attendant  atrocity  which    marks    oft 
 Mexico  from   the  rest  of  the   world.     The  system  was,  of  course.  Poly- 
 theistic, and  equally  of    course,  it  exhibits  the   usual  tendency  totvards 
 Monotheism  \    but  the  overwhelming  priesthood    necessarily  perpetuated 
 the  separate  cults.     There  were  at  least  thirteen  principal  deities,  and  more 
 than  two  hundred  inferior,'  who  would  answer  to  the  genii  and  saints  of 
 Europe  ;  and  it  is  obvious  that  in  Mexico  as  in  Christendom  there  must 
 have  been  many  varieties  of  religious  temper  and  attitude.     In  many  of 
 the  forms  of  prayer  and  admonition  which  have  been  preserved,^  we  see 
 a  habit  of  alluding  reverently  to  "  God"  or  "  our  Lord,"  without  any  speci- 
 fication of  any  one  deity,  and  with  a  general  assumption   that  the   Lord 
 loves  right  conduct.     This  universal  God  was  in  origin  just  the  Sun,  who 
 was  worshipped  in  the  temples  of  all  the  gods  alike,  being  prayed  to  four 
 times  each  day  and  four  times  each  night. ^ 
 
 Ditferent  deities,  however,  were  invoked  in  different  circumstances  :  for 
 instance,  in  connection  with  the  rite  of  infant  baptism,  which  the  Mexicans 
 practised  most  scrupulously,  the  ofliciating  women  prayed  to  "  Our 
 Merciful  Lady,"  Chalchiuhtlicue  or  Cioacoatl,  the  Goddess  of  Water.^ 
 At  the  season  when   rain  was  wanted  for  the  harvest,  again,  prayer  was 
 
 St.  Thomas,  that  ubuiuitous  missionary,  had  given  them  Christianity.  Prescott,  pp-. 
 233,  641.      Ciavigero,  15.  vi.  c.  4. 
 
 '  Ciavigero,  "  History  of  iMexico,"  B.  vi.  ch.  14  (Eng.  tr.   1807,  vol.  i.  p.  270). 
 
 ^  Trescott,  as  cited,  pp.  32,  283-4.  Torquemada  thought  there  might  be  40,000 
 temples  in  all  Mexico,  and  Ciavigero  held   there  were  many  more.   B.  vi.  ch.  12  (p.  269^. 
 
 •''  Prescott,  B.  i.  c.  3,  p.  27. 
 
 •»  Sahagun,  "Hist,  of  the  Affairs  of  New  Spain,"  French  trans.,  iS8o,/aw?w. 
 
 '  Keville,  as  cited,  p.  46. 
 
 ®  Sahagun,  as  cited,  p.  441  (1.  ii.  c.  32). 
 
36o  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 made  to  the  god  or  gods  named  Tlaloc  ^ — for  both  the  singular  and  plural 
 forms  are  used — who  controlled  the  rain  ;  and  whereas  the  Goddess  of 
 Water  invoked  at  baptism  was  held  merciful,  the  Tlaloc  had  to  be  pro- 
 pitiated by  the  regular  sacrifice  of  a  number  of  sucking  infants,  bought 
 from  poor  parents  or  extorted  from  superstitious  ones.^  And  there  is  no 
 more  awful  illustration  of  the  capacity  of  the  human  mind  for  religious 
 delusion  than  the  record  of  how  the  merciful  people,  believing  in  the 
 efficacy  of  the  sacrifice,  would  yet  keep  out  of  the  way  of  the  sacred 
 procession  which  carried  the  doomed  babes,  because  they  could  not  bear 
 to  see  them  weep  and  think  of  their  fate ;  while  others,  weeping  them- 
 selves, would  take  comfort  if  the  children  wept  freely,  because  that  prog- 
 nosticated plenteous  rains/^ 
 
 At  the  first  glance  it  is  plain  that  the  Mexican  pantheon  represented 
 the  myths  of  many  tribes,  myths  which  overlapped  each  other,  as  in  the 
 case  of  the  God  of  Rain  and  his  wife  the  Goddess  of  Water,  and  which 
 survived  separately  by  being  adapted  to  the  different  usages  of  life.  Men 
 could  not  sacrifice  infants  to  the  very  deity  invoked  at  baptism  :  so  the 
 benign  ^Vater-Goddess  was  sundered  from  the  child  devouring  Water-God. 
 And  by  the  same  law  it  came  about  that  the  most  prominent  of  the 
 worships  of  Mexico,  a  state  periodically  at  war,  was  that  of  the  War-God 
 Huitzilopochtli,  who  figured  as  the  patron  God  of  the  State. 
 
 This  God's  name,  as  we  have  it,  means  "  humming-bird  on  the  left,"  and 
 is  explained  by  the  fact  that  the  hideous  image  of  the  God  had  the  feathers 
 of  a  humming-bird  on  the  left  foot.  Dr.  Reville  explains  that  the  hum- 
 ming-bird is  mystically  a  bird  of  the  sun,  being  called  by  the  Aztecs 
 "sunbeam"  or  "  sun's  hair";  and  that  it  is  associated  with  Huitzilopochtli 
 in  his  primary  character  of  Sun-God.  But  that  is  only  part  of  the  ex- 
 planation, as  Dr.  Reville  shows.  Huitzilopochtli  is  a  Sun-God  ;  but  he 
 is  the  God  of  the  Spring  and  Summer  Sun,  there  being  another  great 
 deity,  his  brother  Tezcatlipoca,  who  rules  the  winter  months.  Huiizilo- 
 pochtli's  reign  began  in  May ;  and  it  is  in  May,  the  spring-month,  that  in 
 Mexico  the  humming  bird  appears.  It  is  probably  this  association  that 
 specially  connects  him  with  the  God. 
 
 Now,  there  is  a  remarkable  coincidence  between  this  symbolism  and 
 that  which,  in  the  Roman  mythology,  connects  Mars,  the  War-(}od,  with 
 the  wood-pecker.  ^  From  the  name  of  the  bird,  Lat.  picus,  he  was  held  to 
 have  had  the  pet-name  J'icumtius ;'"  and  this  circumstance  encourages  the 
 
 *  I'lobably  "the  Tlalocs,"  were  the  clouds— chilihcn  of  the  rain— Gorl.  Reville, 
 p.  72.     Tlaloc  was  one  of  the  oldest  deities.      I'rescott,  p.  41,  «.,  citing  Ramirez. 
 
 "  Saha{jiin,  as  cited,  p.  84  (1.  ii.  c.  20)  speaks  of  purchase  only,  liicre  seem,  how- 
 ever, to  have  been  special  dedications.  In  Carthage,  we  know,  the  aristocracy  came  to 
 substitute  bought  children  for  their  own.  Diodorus  ,\x.  14.  The  same  process  would 
 take  i^lace  anywhere. 
 
 ^  Saliagun,  ]>.  58  (1.  ii.  c.  l),  and  ]ip.  84-7. 
 
 *  rrclk-r,  "  Romische  Mythologie,"  ed.  1865,  S.  297-8. 
 
 *  This  derivation,  however,  is  disputed.  Cox,  "Mythology  of  the  Aryan  Nations,' 
 ed.  1882,  pp.  523-4. 
 
THE   RELIGIONS  OF  ANCIENT  AMERICA.  361 
 
 surmise  which  we  naturally  make  that  Huitzilopochtli  is  not  the  original 
 name  of  the  Mexican  God,i  but  only  a  sobriquet  or  pet-name  by  which 
 the  people  described  him,  in  terms  of  his  symbolic  image.  Dr.  Reville 
 does  not  mention  this  analogy  ;  and  it  would  be  interesting  to  know  how 
 he  would  explain  it.  He  is  wont  to  insist  strongly  that  parallels  in 
 mythology  do  not  mean  borrowing  ;  and  in  this  case  I  believe  it  would 
 be  right  to  .say  so.  But  the  explanation,  as  I  regard  it,  is  somewhat 
 curious.  A  War-God,  specially  known  as  such,  is  not  a  primary  con- 
 ception :  what  happens  is  that  a  particular  God  comes  to  be  the  God  of 
 war.  Now,  we  know,  that  Mars  was  originally  a  sylvan  deity,-  concerned 
 with  vegetation  and  flocks  and  herds.  How  came  he  to  preside  over  war? 
 Simply  because,  I  take  it,  he  was  the  God  of  the  season  at  which  7var  was 
 usually  luade.  Campaigns  were  begun  in  spring ;  and  so  the  God  of  the 
 Spring  season,  who  was  specially  invoked,  became  War-God.  Mars  was 
 ]\x?,\.  Martins,  March;  and  he  lent  himself  the  better  to  the  conception, 
 because  March  is  a  blowy  and  blusterous  month.  Mars,  you  remember, 
 retains  these  characteristics,  being  a  blusterous  rather  than  a  great  or 
 dignified  God  in  both  the  Greek  and  Roman  mythologies.  As  in  Italy, 
 so  in  Mexico.  The  God  of  the  war-season  became  the  God  of  War ;  and 
 the  one  deity  like  the  other  retained,  as  War-God,  the  symbol  of  the  little 
 bird  which  was  held  to  be  his  forerunner  in  nature.  Pictis  means  speckled,^ 
 coloured ;  and  the  speckled  woodpecker  might  figure  the  coming  of 
 speckled  spring,  as  the  humming-bird  would  do  the  colour-time  in  Mexico.* 
 Perhaps  there  may  be  a  similar  natural  explanation  for  the  coincidence 
 that  Huitzilopochtli  is  born  of  a  mother,  Coatlicue,  who  is  abnormally 
 impregnated  by  being  touched  by  a  ball  of  bright-coloured  feathers,^  while 
 Juno  bears  Mars  also  virginally,  being  impregnated  by  the  touch  of  a 
 flower.'' 
 
 But  a  great  diflerence  arises  between  the  cults  of  Mars  and  Huitzilo- 
 pochtli in  respect  of  development.  The  Roman  God  remained  subordi- 
 nate, warlike  though  the  Romans  were  ;  the  Mexican  became  one  of  the 
 two  leading  deities,  and  received  the  more  assiduous  worship.  Whence 
 the  divergence  ?  Mainly,  I  take  it,  from  the  multiplication  of  the  Mexican 
 priesthood  and  the  special  form  of  their  cultus.  It  is  to  their  enormous 
 power,  in  the  first  place,  that  we  must  attribute  the  fearful  multiplication  of 
 human  sacrifices.  These,  tiiere  is  abundant  reason  to  believe,  have  existed 
 in  all  religions  at  one  stage  ;  and   it  has  dei)ended  on  the  presence  or 
 
 *  He  was,  in  fact,  identical  with  the  God  Mexitli.     Prescott,  p.  9. 
 
 2  Cato,  "  De  re  Kustica,"  141  (142).  Mars,  too,  was  identified  with  the  sun. 
 Macrobius,  "Saturnalia,"!.  19.  So  was  Ares,  according  to  Preller  ("Griech.  Myth.," 
 cd.  i860,  i.  257),  who,  liowever,  only  cites  the  Homeridian  hymn,  \\hich  does  not  bear 
 him  out.      That  identities  Ares  with  the  planet  Mars. 
 
 ^  bo  White.     Jheal  derives  it  from  a  root  meaning  to  strike.     Cox,  as  cited. 
 
 ■•  Dr.  Reville  notes  that  the  humming-bird  is  specially  courageous.  The  same  view 
 might  be  taken  of  the  woodpecker. 
 
 6  Clavigero,  B.  vi.  c.  6  (p.  254). 
 
 *  Ovid,  "Fasti,"  v.  231-256. 
 
362  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 absence  of  a  powerful  priesthood  whether  they  are  obstinately  continued 
 or  abandoned.  It  may  or  may  not  be,  as  Professor  Robertson  Smith 
 argues,  that  human  sacrifices  are  not  more  ancient  than  those  of  animals, 
 but  arise  late,  after  men  have  ceased  to  regard  animals  as  equally  belonging 
 to  the  tribe  with  themselves.^  What  we  do  know  is  that,  where  there  is 
 only  a  limited  priesthood,  the  natural  force  of  compassion  leads  men  in 
 time,  as  they  grow  more  civilized,  to  abandon  such  sacrifices  ;  while  a 
 priesthood  tends  to  maintain  and  multiply  them.  Thus  among  the  civilized 
 peoples  of  the  old  world  they  lasted  longest  with  the  priest-ridden  Cartha- 
 ginians j^  and  the  reason  that  they  did  not  continue  late  among  the  Jews, 
 was  that  these  did  not  possess  a  numerous  priesthood  till  after  the 
 Captivity,  when  their  religion  was  recast  in  terms  of  the  higher  Oriental 
 systems.  The  process  is  perfectly  intelligible.  The  stronghold  of  all 
 priesthoods  is  the  principle  of  intercession  ;  whether  it  be  in  the  form 
 of  simple  prayer  and  propitiatory  worship  ;  or  a  mixture  of  that  with  a 
 doctrine  of  mystic  sacrifice,  as  among  Protestants ;  or  in  the  constant 
 repetition  of  a  ceremony  of  mystic  sacrifice,  as  among  Catholics  ;  or  in 
 actual  animal  sacrifice,  as  among  Jews  and  Pagans.  In  these  cases  we 
 see  that,  the  more  stress  is  laid  on  the  act  of  sacrifice,  the  stronger  is  the 
 priesthood — or  we  may  put  it  conversely.  Strongest  of  all  then  must  be 
 the  hold  of  the  priesthood  whose  sacrifices  are  most  terrible.  And  terrible 
 was  the  prestige  of  the  priesthood  of  Mexico.  The  greater  and  richer  the 
 State  grew,  the  larger  were  the  hecatombs  of  human  victims.  Almost 
 every  God  had  to  be  propitiated  in  the  same  way  ;  but  above  all  must  the 
 War- God  be  for  ever  glutted  with  the  smoking  hearts  of  slain  captives. 
 Scarcely  any  historian,  says  Prescott-,'^  estimates  the  number  of  human 
 beings  sacrificed  yearly  throughout  the  em[)ire  at  less  tlian  20,000,  and 
 some  make  it  50,000.  Of  this  doomed  host,  Huitzilopochtli  had  the  lion's 
 share  ;  and  it  is  recorded  that  at  the  dedication  of  his  great  new  temple 
 in  i486  there  were  slain  in  his  honour  70,000  prisoners  of  war,  who  had 
 been  reserved  for  the  purpose  for  years  throughout  the  empire.  They 
 formed  a  train  two  miles  long,  and  the  work  of  priestly  butchery  went  on 
 for  several  days. 
 
 At  every  festival  of  the  God  there  was  a  new  hecatomb  of  victims. 
 Conceive  how  the  chronic  spectacle  burnt  itself  in  on  the  imagination 
 of  the  people.  The  Mexican  temples  were  great  pyramids,  sometimes  of 
 four  or  five  stories,  and  the  sacrifices  were  offered  on  the  top.  The  stair 
 was  so  made  that  it  mounted  successively  all  four  sides  of  the  pyramid, 
 and  when  the  train  of  lorch-bcaring  priests  wound  their  way  up  in  the 
 darkness,  as  was  the  rule  for  certain  sacrifices,  ^  to  the  topmost  platform, 
 with  its  ever-burning  fires  and  its  stone  of  sacrifice,  the  whole  city  looked 
 
 '  "Tlie  Religion  of  the  Semites,"  p.  346.  It  seems  a  reasonable  presumption  that 
 cannilialism  was  practised  in  connexion  with  war  among  savages  of  all  races.  The 
 religious  element  niiglit  be  supcr-ailded. 
 
 '■^  On  this,  however,  comp.  I".  \V.  Newman,  "  Mi-cclianies,"  pp.  302-j. 
 
 *  As  cited,  H.  i.,  c.  3,  p.  38.         ^  Bancroft  ii.  334. 
 
THE   RELIGIO-NS  OF  ANCIENT  AMERICA.  363 
 
 on.  And  then  the  horror  of  the  sacrificial  act !  In  the  great  majority  of 
 the  sacrifices  the  victim  was  laid  living  on  the  convex  stone  and  lield  by 
 the  limbs,  while  the  slayer  cut  open  his  breast  with  the  sacred  tlint  ^  knife 
 — the  ancient  knife,  used  before  men  had  the  use  of  metuls,  and  therefore 
 most  truly  religious — and  tore  out  the  palpitating  heart,  which  was  held 
 on  high  to  the  all-seeing  sun,  before  being  set  to  burn  in  incense  in  front 
 of  the  idol,  whose  lips,  and  the  walls  of  whose  shrine,  were  devoutly 
 daubed  with  blood. 
 
 Ritual  and  mystery  lent  their  artistic  glamour  to  the  process  of  butchery. 
 In  connexion  with  one  annual  festival  of  Tezcatlipoca,  the  Creator  and 
 "soul  of  the  world," ^  who  combined  the  attributes  of  perpetual  youthful 
 beauty  with  the  function  of  the  God  of  justice  and  retribution,  as  Winter 
 Sun,  there  was  selected  for  immolation  a  young  male  captive  of  especial 
 beauty,  who  was  treated  with  great  reverence  for  a  whole  year  before  being 
 sacrificed.  He  was  gorgeously  attired  ;  flowers  were  strewn  before  him  ; 
 he  went  about  followed  by  a  retinue  of  the  king's  pages  ;  and  the  people 
 prostrated  themselves  before  him  and  worshipped  him  as  a  God.  He  was 
 in  fact  the  God's  representative,  and  was  described  as  his  image.^  A 
 month  before  the  fatal  day  new  indulgences  were  heaped  upon  him.  Four 
 beautiful  maidens,  bearing  the  names  of  the  principal  Goddesses,  were 
 given  him  as  concubines.  At  length  came  his  death  day.  His  honours 
 and  his  joys  were  ended,  and  his  fine  raiment  taken  away.  Carried  on 
 a  royal  barge  across  the  lake  to  a  particular  temple,  about  a  league  from 
 the  city,  whither  all  the  people  thronged,  he  was  led  up  the  pyramid  in 
 procession,  he  taking  part  in  the  ritual  by  throwing  away  his  chaplets  of 
 flowers  and  breaking  his  guitar.  And  then  at  the  top,  the  six  black-robed 
 slayers,  the  sacrificial  stone,  and  the  horror  of  the  end.*  And  when  all 
 was  over  the  priests  piously  improved  the  occasion,  preaching  that  all  this 
 had  been  typical  of  human  destiny.^ 
 
 The  Goddesses  too  had  their  victims — women  victims  ;  and  one  maiden 
 was  prepared  for  one  sacrifice  to  the  Maize-Goddess  Centeotl,  the  Mexican 
 Ceres,  somewhat  as  the  representative  of  Tezcatlipoca  was.  Some  of  the 
 ritual  horrors  of  the  slaying  will  hardly  bear  telling  :  they  are  sickening 
 even  to  read.*^  But  we  cannot  ignore  the  special  and  peculiar  horror  of 
 the  Mexican  cultus — the  act  of  ritual  cannibalism.     Tliis  was  strictly  a 
 
 '  Ur  rather,  obsidian,  a  volcanic  mineral. 
 
 2  It  is  remarl<al)le  tliat  tiie  doctrine  of  the  Logos  is  here  developed  in  connexion  with 
 tiie  Winter  Sun,  who  would  prcsumaljly  be  born  at  the  winter  solstice  (when  the  reign 
 of  Iluilzilopochtli  ended)  and  pass  away  at  the  vernal  equinox.  Tezcatlipoca  was 
 nominally  the  "greatest  God"  (Clavigero,  B.  vi.,  c.  2,  p.  244),  though  Huitzilopochtli 
 got  more  attention.  "Tezcatlipoca  was  the  most  sublime  figure  in  the  Aztec  Pantheon  " 
 (Dr.  IJrinton,  "American  Hero  Myths,"  18S2,  p.  69).  See  his  titles  {Id.  p.  70).  He 
 was  the  Night  God  (p.  71) ;  and  Clavigero  notes  that  his  statue  was  of  black  stone. 
 
 ^  Sahagun,  p.  97  (b.  ii.,  c.  24). 
 
 ■*  His  limbs  were  sacramentally  eaten  by  the  aristocracy. 
 
 *  Sahagun,  as  cited. 
 
 «  See  Bancroft  iii.,  354-7  ;  or  Sahagun,  pp.  134-5  (b.  ii.,  ch.  30),  as  to  the  flaying  of 
 victims  and  donning  of  their  skins,  for  instance. 
 
364  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 matter  of  religion.     After  a  captive  had  been  sacrificially  slain  in  ordinary 
 course,  his  body  was  delivered  to  the  warrior  who  captured  him,  and  was 
 by  him  made  the  special  dish  at  a  formal  and  decorous  public  banquet  1o 
 his  friends.     It  was  part  of  the  prescribed  worship  of  the  Gods.     That 
 the  Mexicans  were  not  cannibals  by  taste  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  in  the 
 great  siege  by  Cortes  they  died  of  starvation   by  thousands.     They  never 
 ite  each  other  :  ^  only  the  sacrificially  slain   captive.     But  only  a  great 
 priesthood  could  have  maintained  even  that  usage.     There  are  signs  that 
 such  ritual  cannibalism  has  existed  at  one  time  in  all  religions  :  the  memory 
 of  it  survives  in  Christian  formulas  :  and   Dr.  Reville   points   out  that  it 
 must  have  originated  in  simple  cannibalism,   for   men   would   never  have 
 begun  to  offer  to  the  Gods  food  that  was  abominable  to  themselves.-     On 
 the  other  hand,  however,  we  know  that  cannibalism   everywhere  dies  out 
 naturally  even  among  savages,  apart  from  religion,  as  soon  as  they  reach 
 some  degree  of  peaceful  life,  and  even  sooner.     Among  the  native  tribes 
 of  Lower  California,  though  they  are  among  the   most  degraded  savages 
 in  the  world,  and  given  to  various  disgusting  practices,  the  eating,  not 
 only  of  human  flesh,  but  of  that  of  monkeys,  as  resembling  men,  is  held 
 abominable.^     And  no  amount  of  i)assion  for  war  could  have  kept  the 
 civilized   Aztecs  complacently  i)ractising  ritual  cannibalism   if  an  austere 
 and  all-powerful  priesthood  had   not  fanatically  enforced   it.     The  great 
 sanction  for  human  sacrifice,  with  the  Mexicans  as   with  the  Khonds  in 
 India,  was  the  doctrine  which  identified  the  God  with  the  victim,  and  as 
 it  were  sacrificed  him  to  himself^     The  principle  was   thus   in  a  peculiar 
 degree  priest-made. 
 
 The  recital  of  these  facts  may  lead  some  to  conclude  that  the  Mexican 
 priesthood  must  have  been  the  most  atrocious  multitude  of  miscreants 
 the  world  ever  saw.  But  that  would  be  a  complete  misconception  :  they 
 were  as  conscientious  a  priesthood  as  history  bears  record  of. 
 
 Apart  from  the  vast  priesthood  of  human  sacrifices,  there  was  a  body 
 attached  to  the  worship  of  the  benign  deity  Quetzalcoatl,  "Featheied 
 Serpent,"  the  God  of  the  Air,'  who  ai)pears  to  have  been  a  God  of  the 
 Toltec  people,  driven  out  by  the  Aztecs,  but  whose  worship  was  retained 
 by  the  latter,  among  whom  no  doubt  many  Toltecs  were  absorbed.     It 
 
 ■  It  would  jieihaps  be  more  accurate  to  say  llial  the  eating  of  a  slain  enemy  was 
 oiiginally  pari  of  a  process  of  triumphing  over  liini  ;  and  that  the  abstention  from  the 
 flesh  of  lellow-citi/.ens  meant  not  distaste  for  human  llesh  (which  is  negatived  by  the 
 ritual  practice),  but  obedience  to  a  moral  veto  on  domestic  cannibalism,  such  as  must 
 have  been  set  up  early  in  all  civilizations.     Cf.  liancrofl,  ii.  35^- 
 
 '•^  Lectures  cited,  ]>.  87. 
 
 "  Hancroft,  i.  560.  Hut  it  is  not  certain  whether  this  veto  applies  to  enemies. 
 Professor  Robertson  Smith  thinks  the  horror  of  human  llesh  arose  in  superstition  as  to 
 its  "  sacrosanct  character,"  but  does  not  explain.      "  Religion  of  the  Semites,"  p.  348. 
 
 *  As  to  the  customariness  of  this  identification,  see  Bancroft,  iii.  342.  "  Of  the  human 
 sacrifices  of  rude  peoples,  those  of  the  Mexicans  are  ])erhaps  the  most  instructive,  for  in 
 them  the  theanthropic  character  of  the  victim  comes  out  most  clearly"  (Prof.  Robertson 
 Smith,  as  cited,  \>.  347).  Generally,  on  this  wi<lely  important  phase  of  early  religion, 
 see  Mr.  |.  (J.  l-razer's  valuable  work  "The  Golden  Hough." 
 
 *  Clavigero,  H.  vi.,  c.  4  (p.  2^SJ. 
 
THE  RELIGIONS   OF  ANCIENT  AMERICA.  365 
 
 admittedly  exhibits  the  highest  kind  of  moral  development  that  a  Nature- 
 myth  can  take.^  According  to  Dr.  Brinton  and  Dr.  Re'ville,  Quetzalcoatl 
 is  the  God  of  the  beneficent  west-wind,  identified  with  the  vanquished 
 Toltec  people,  so  that  like  them  he  is  driven  away  by  the  enmity  of  other 
 deities,  but  like  the  vanishing  or  slain  Sun-God  of  all  mythologies,  he  is 
 to  return  again  in  power  and  great  glorj'.  This  myth  was  probably  the 
 main  cause  of  the  success  of  Cortbs,  for  he  was  at  first  believed  by  both 
 people  and  king  to  be  the  good  God  Quetzalcoatl  come  back  again.- 
 Well,  his  myth  is  admittedly  a  beautiful  one  ;  and  one  writer  argues^  that 
 the  Mexicans  cannot  have  framed  such  a  high  religious  conception  unless 
 there  had  been  men  of  the  highest  moral  qualities  among  them.  By  such 
 a  myth  Christians  are  set  vaguely  surmising  a  debt  to  their  own  legend  ; 
 but  there  is  no  such  thing  in  the  case.  As  Mr.  Bancroft  observes,  the 
 process  is  one  which  has  occurred  in  many  mythologies  : 
 
 "It  is  eveiy where  the  case  among  savages,  with  their  national  God,  that  the  latter  is 
 a  nature-deity,  who  becomes  gradually  transformed  into  a  national  God,  then  into  a 
 national  King,  high-jiriest,  founder  of  a  religion,  and  at  last  ends  in  being  considered 
 a  human  being.  The  older  and  purer  the  civilization  of  a  people  is,  the  easier  it  is  to 
 recognise  tlie  original  essence  of  its  national  God,  in  spite  of  all  transformations  and 
 disguises.  So  it  is  here.  Behind  the  human  form  of  the  God  glimmers  the  nature-shape, 
 and  tlie  national  (jod  is  known  by,  perhaps,  all  his  worshippers  as  also  a  nature-deity. 
 From  his  powerful  influence  upon  nature,  he  might  also  be  held  as  creator.  The  pure 
 human  form  of  this  God  [Quetzalcoatl]  as  it  appears  in  the  fable,  as  well  as  in  the  image, 
 is  not  the  original,  but  the  youngest.  His  oldest  concrete  forms  are  taken  from  nature, 
 to  which  he  originally  belongs,  and  have  maintained  themselves  in  many  attributes.  All 
 these  symbolize  him  as  the  God  of  fertility,  chiefly  ...  by  means  of  the  beneficial 
 influence  of  the  air."  ■• 
 
 Now,  we  know  that  Quetzalcoatl  was  held  to  be  averse  to  human 
 sacrifices,^  and  we  may  assume  that  the  best-hearted  and  sanest  Mexicans 
 would  incline  to  his  cultus,  which  was  of  high,  though  not  the  highest 
 standing.  But  do  not  let  us  decide  on  that  account  that  the  other  priest- 
 hoods were  wholly  evil  in  spirit  or  even  in  act.  The  strangest  thing  of  all 
 is  that  their  frightful  system  of  sacrifice  was  bound  up  not  only  with  a  strict 
 and  ascetic  social  morality,  but  with  an  emphatic  humanitarian  doctrine. 
 If  asceticism  be  virtue,  as  Christianity  teaches,  they  cultivated  it  zealously. 
 There  was  a  Mexican  Goddess  of  Love,  and  there  was  of  course  plenty 
 of  vice  ;  but  nowhere  could  men  win  a  higher  reputation  for  sanctity  by 
 living  in  celibacy.  Their  saints  were  numerous.  They  had  nearly  all  the 
 formulas  of  Christian  morality,  so  called.  The  priests  themselves  mostly 
 lived  in  strict  celibacy  ;    and  they  educated  children  with  the  greatest 
 
 '  Dr.  Tylor  strangely  writes:  "t  am  inclined  to  consider  Quetzalcoatl  a  real 
 personage,  and  not  a'mythical  one  "  {"  Anahuac,"  p.  278).  It  was  this  deity  who  was 
 long  ago  identified  with  St.  Thomas  (Clavigero,  B.  vi.,  c.  4,  p.  250).  For  the  myth 
 see  Dr.  Brinton,  "  American  Hero  Mvths."  pp.  73-142.  In  the  ritual  of  the  confessional 
 he  is  called  the  "father  and  mother"  of  the  penitent  (Sahagun,  p.  341  ;  1.  vi.,  c.  7). 
 He,  too,  is  born  of  a  virgin  mother  (Brinton,  p.  90). 
 
 ^  Prescott,  B.  ii.,  c.  6  ;  B.  iv. ,  c.  5. 
 
 ^  Mr.  Kirk,  in  note  on  Prescott,  as  cited,  p.  29. 
 
 *  "Native  Races,"  iii.  279. 
 
 »  His  priests  were  white-robed,  while  those  of  the  bloody  cults  were  robed  m  black. 
 
366  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 vigilance.  They  taught  the  people  to  be  peaceful  ;  to  bear  injuries  with 
 meekness ;  to  rely  on  God's  mercy  and  not  on  their  own  merits  :  they 
 taught,  like  Jesus  and  the  Pagans,  that  adultery  could  be  committed  by 
 the  eyes  and  the  heart ;  and  above  all  they  exhorted  men  to  feed  the 
 ])oor.  The  ])ublic  hospitals  were  carefully  attended  to,  at  a  time  when 
 some  Christian  countries  had  none.  They  had  the  practice  of  confession 
 and  absolution  ;  and  in  the  regular  exhortation  of  the  confessor  there  was 
 this  formula  :  "  Clothe  the  naked  and  feed  the  hungry,  whatever  privations 
 it  may  cost  thee  ;  for  remember,  their  flesh  is  like  thine,  and  they  are  men 
 like  thee  ;  cherish  the  sick,  for  they  are  the  imige  of  God."  And  in  that 
 very  same  exhortation  there  was  further  urged  on  the  penitent  the  special 
 duty  of  instantly  procuring  a  slave  for  sacrifice  to  the  deity^ 
 
 What  can  we  say  to  this?  These  men,  judged  by  religious  standards, 
 were  just  like  our  European  typical  priesthood.  They  doubtless  had 
 the  same  temperamental  qualities  ;  a  strong  irrational  sense  of  duty;  a 
 hysterical  habit  of  mind  ;  a  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  ;  a  passion  for  asceticism  ; 
 and  a  feeling  that  sensuous  indulgence  was  revolting.  Devoid  of  moral 
 science,  they  had  plenty  of  the  blind  instinct  to  do  right.  They  devoutly 
 did  what  their  religion  told  them  ;  just  as  Catholic  priests  have  devoutly 
 served  the  Inquisition.  That  is  one  of  the  central  sociological  lessons  ot 
 our  subject.  The  religious  element  in  man,  being  essentially  irrational, 
 may  ally  itself  with  either  good  or  evil ;  and  it  is  no  thanks  to  religion, 
 properly  speaking,  that  it  is  ever  in  any  degree  identified  with  good.  How 
 comes  it  that  Christianity  is  not  associated  with  human  sacrifice  while  the 
 Mexican  cultus  was?  Simply  by  reason  of  the  different  civilizations  that 
 went  before.  In  fine,  it  is  civilization  that  determines  the  tone  of  religion, 
 and  not  the  other  way.  Christianity  starts  with  a  doctrine  ot  one  act  of 
 lumian  sacrifice;  and  Christians  are  specially  invited  each  year  at  the 
 sacred  season  to  fasten  their  minds  on  the  horrors  of  that  act.  Their 
 ritual  keeps  up  tlie  mystic  pretence  of  the  act  of  ritual  cannibalism  which 
 of  old  went  with  the  human  sacrifice :  they  harp  on  the  very  words, 
 "body  and  blood."  They  mystically  eat  the  body  of  the  slain  God.  Now 
 this  very  act  Wvis  performed  by  the  Mexicans  not  only  literally,  as  we  have 
 seen,  but  in  the  symbolic  way  also.  They  had  a  festival  in  honour  of 
 Xiuhtecutli,  the  God  of  Fire,  the  crowning  point  of  which  was  the  making 
 a  dough  image  of  the  God  and  raising  it  on  a  cross  ;^  which   image  was 
 
 '  Saliagiin,  1.  vi.,  c.  7  ;  French  trans.  ]ii).  342-3  ;  Prescott,  as  cited,  p.  33. 
 
 *  The  cross  figured  in  Mexico  as  a  sacred  synil)ol  also  in  connexion  with  the  Rain- 
 God,  and  was  expressly  known  as  the  "Tree  of  our  life. "  ^'et  Dr.  Ikinton  has  con- 
 fidently decided  ("  .Myths  of  the  New  World,"  p.  96  ;  "  American  Hero  Myths,"  p.  155) 
 that  il  simply  sij;nified,  with  its  four  points,  the  cardinal  ]>oints  and  the  four  winds. 
 This  explanation,  which  is  a  pure  guess,  has  been  dogmatically  put  forward  by  several 
 writers,  including  Dr.  Keville  (Lectures,  p.  38)  who,  however,  like  a  (lerman  hierologist 
 of  whom  Dr.  Hrinton  comiiiains,  does  not  name  the  originator  of  the  theory.  Yet  it  is 
 not  even  plausible.  Why  should  the  cardinal  ]ii)ints  be  represented  by  an  upright  cross? 
 And  why  should  it  be  called  "Tree  of  our  life  "  and  specially  associated  with  Tlaloc 
 the  (lod  of  rain  /  Were  all  fnur  win<ls  alike  "  rain-bringers  "  ?  Certainly  the  number 
 four  figured  in  Tlaloc's  worship  (Bancroft  iii.  34S),  but  so  did  the  image  of  the  snake. 
 
THE  RELIGIONS   OF  ANCIENT  AMERICA.  367 
 
 then  climbed  for  and  thrown  down,  and  the  fragments  eagerly  eaten  by 
 the  crowd  as  ])ossessing  a  sacred  efficacy. ^  They  thought  they  were 
 brought  into  union  with  the  God  in  that  fashion.  Well,  there  is  some 
 evidence  that  among  the  first  Christians  the  Eucharist  was  sometimes  a 
 baked  dough  image  of  a  child  :  ^  and  on  any  view  the  irresistible  pre- 
 sumption is  that  in  all  cases  alike  the  symbolical  usage  grew  out  of  a  more 
 ancient  practice  of  ritual  cannibalism.  Christianity  coming  among  a  set 
 of  civilized  peoples,  the  symbol  became  more  and  more  mystical,  though 
 the  priesthood  adhered  tenaciously  to  the  doctrine  of  daily  mystical 
 sacrifice.  In  Mexico,  it  seems,  certain  cults  had  similarly  substituted 
 symbolism  for  actual  sacrifice.  But  the  thin  end  of  the  wedge  was  in, 
 so  to  speak,  in  the  survival  of  actual  human  sacrifices  ;  and  the  Aztec 
 priesthood  drove  the  wedge  further  and  further  in,  in  virtue  of  what  we 
 may  term  the  master  tendency  of  all  religions — the  fixation  of  ideas 
 and  usages. 
 
 The  Aztec  em])ire,  remember,  was  a  late  growth  ;  and  according  to  the 
 records,  the  rise  of  its  great  system  of  human  sacrifices  only  dates  back 
 about  two  hundred  years  before  the  Conquest.  The  Toltecs,  we  are  told, 
 had  no  such  system  ;  but  we  have  proofs  that  they  had  the  usage  to  a 
 certain  extent,  since  they  sacrificed  boys  and  maidens  to  the  Rain-God.^ 
 It  only  needed  that  the  Aztec  priesthood  should  begin  with  a  few  human 
 sacrifices  to  their  War-God  in  order  that  their  own  body  and  the  sacrificial 
 system  should  grow  to  the  most  monstrous  dimensions.  The  more  piety 
 the  more  priests ;  the  more  priests  the  more  sacrifices  ;  and  the  constant 
 wars  of  the  Aztecs  supplied  an  unfailing  stream  of  captives  for  immolation.^ 
 In  fact,  the  Aztec  kings  made  a  treaty  with  the  neighbouring  republic  of 
 Tlascala  and  its  confederates,  a  treaty  which  was  faithfully  kept,  to  the 
 effect  that  their  armies  should  fight  on  a  given  ground  at  stated  seasons, 
 in  order  that  both  sides  should  be  able  to  supply  themselves  with  prisoners 
 for  sacrifice.  At  all  other  times  they  were  quite  friendly  ;  and  the  Aztec 
 kings  avowedly  kept  up  the  relation  purely  in  order  to  have  captives  for 
 sacrifice.^  An  arrangement  like  that,  once  set  up,  would  flourish  more 
 and  more,  esi)ecially  as  death  in  battle  was  reckoned  a  sure  passport  to 
 Paradise  ;  and  the  priesthood  would  at  the  same  time  grow  ever  more 
 and  more  numerous  ;  the  only  limit  being  the  people's  power  of  endurance. 
 And  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  Aztec  empire  would  ultimately  have 
 
 Is  not  the  more  plausil)le  hypothesis  that  in  such  a  connexion  the  significance  of  the 
 cross  was  phallic  ? 
 
 1  Sahagnn,  pp.  128-133  (1.  ii.,  ch.  29)  ;  Bancroft,  iii,  329-331.  There  were  other 
 ceremonies  representing  the  sacramental  eating  of  the  God's  image,  made  of  flour  mixed 
 with  blood.     Prescott,  App.  i.,  citing  Veytia  and  Acosta. 
 
 *  See  the  author's  "  Christ  and  Krishna,"  pp.  75-6.  Cp.  Professor  Robertson  Smith 
 as  to  "a  resuscitation  of  obsolete  mysteries  among  the  Jews  "  (Work  cited,  p.  339). 
 
 *  Prescott,  as  cited,  p.  41,  ;/. 
 
 *  The  priests  actually  went  into  battle  to  help  in  securing  captives,  and  were  con- 
 spicuous for  their  fury.      Prescott,  p.  39. 
 
 «  /(/.,  ib. 
 
368  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 broken  down  under  its  monstrous  burden  if  the  Spaniards  had  not  de- 
 stroyed it;  for  the  taxation  necessary  to  support  the  mihtary  and  aristocratic 
 system  alongside  of  the  allocation  of  enormous  untaxed  domains  ^  to  the 
 ever-multiplying  myriads  of  priests  was  becoming  more  insupportable  year 
 by  year,  so  that  the  deep  disaffection  of  the  common  people  was  one  of 
 the  chief  supports  to  the  campaign  of  Cortes.^  It  may  well  be  that  some 
 of  the  previous  civilizations  had  succumbed  in  the  same  way,  literally 
 destroyed  by  religion,  to  the  extent,  that  is,  of  inviting  conquest  by  less 
 civilized  tribes. 
 
 In  Peru,  the  same  tendencies  are  seen  in  a  much  modified  degree.    There 
 the  rapid  multiplication   of  the  priesthood  was  hindered  by  the  peculiar 
 standing  of  the  king  and   his  fiimily.     In  Mexico  the  king  was  elected  by 
 the  nobles  ;  in  Peru  he  reigned  by  divine  right  of  the  strongest  description  ; 
 the  doctrine  being  that  the  original  Inca  was  the  Sun-God,  who  married  his 
 sister;  and  that  all  succeeding  Incas  did  the  same,  thus  keeping  the  suc- 
 cession strictly  divine.     As  they  extended  their  dominions  by  conquest, 
 they  astutely  provided  that  the  religions  of  the  conquered  peoples  should 
 subsist,  but  in  a  state  of  recognised  subjection  to  the  Inca,  the  divine  high- 
 priest,  as  the  priesthood  generally  ranked  below  the  sacred  caste  of  the 
 Inca  nobles  ;  so  that  the  old  cults  had  not  the  chance  of  growing  as  those 
 of  Mexico  did,  though  they  remained  popular  and  venerable.     The  two 
 leading  deities   were   Pachacamac  and  Viracocha,  who  seem  at  times  to 
 have  been  identified.      Each  figured  in  myth  as  a  Creator,  and  they  were 
 doubtless  originally  the  Gods  of  different  peoples  or  tribes,  though  their 
 cults  tended  to  unity  under  the   politic  despotism  of  the  Incas.     Pacha- 
 camac signifies  "life-giver  of  the  earth,"  and    Viracocha,  "foam  of  the 
 sea  "  ;  and  they  seem  accordingly  to  have  been  respectively  associated,  to 
 some  extent,  with  the  principles  of  heat  and  moisture  ;  but,  as  so  many  other 
 ancient  systems  show,  these  principles  readily  lend  themselves  to  combi- 
 nation.    The  omission  to  build    new   temples,   however,-*  was    probably 
 undermining  this  cult;    and  the  popular  religion  was  becoming  more  and 
 more  one  of  worship  of  the  minor  deities,  with  the  Inca  figuring  as  the 
 representative  of  the  chief  natural  God,  the  Sun.    The  Thunder  and  Light- 
 ning were  worshipped  as  the  Sun's  ministers  ;  the  Rainbow  as  his  symbol 
 or  emanation  ;  and  the  Moon  and  Stars,  and  in  particular  the  planet  Venus, 
 as  separate  divinities  ;    and  Creator,  Thunder,  and  Sun,  were  sacrificed  to 
 as  if  very  much  on  a  level  in  dignity.  ^     From  such  developments  we  may 
 infer  that  the  Peruvian  popular  culture  was  nearly  stationary  or  decaying ; 
 and  it  becomes  easy  to  understand  how,  after  the  Conquest,  the  Christian 
 deities  took  the  place  of  the  old  without  any  difficulty  ;  these  being  so 
 many  religious  conventions,  while  the  real  beliefs  of  the  people  remained 
 
 '  Prcscott,  B.  i.,  c.  3. 
 »  /(/.,  H.  ii.,c.  6. 
 
 ^  See  Mr.  Kirk's  note  in  his  ed.  of  Prcscott,  p.  44. 
 
 *  "Riles  and  Laws   of  the  Yncas,"  trans,   by   C.    K.  Markliam,    llakluyt  Society, 
 1873,  P-  27- 
 
THE   RELIGIONS   OF  ANCIENT  AMERICA.  369 
 
 attached,  as  they  are  now,  to  the  genii  or  sprites  of  their  own  lore.      For 
 an  unprogressing  and  unlettered  people — as  many  of  those  in  Europe  have 
 been  at  different  times — religion  is  mostly  a  matter  of  festivals  and  hand- 
 to-mouth    superstitions ;    and   the   Peruvian    common   people   are,    under 
 Christianity,  what  they  were  under  their  Incas.     European  life  gives  abun- 
 dant evidence  of  how  the  usages  of  an  ancient- creed  may  survive  the  creed 
 itself.     In  Peru,  as   in  Mexico,  there  was  a  solemn  religious  ceremony  of 
 renewing  at  stated   periods,   by  special  generation,  the  fire  used  in  the 
 temples,  and  even   in   the  households.     In  Mexico   it  was  done  over  a 
 human  sacrifice,  by  means  of  the  friction  of  two  sticks,  at  the  end  of  each 
 cycle  of  fifty-two  years.^     In  Peru  it  was  done  yearly  by  means  of  a  con- 
 cave mirror.2   So  did  men  do  in  ancient  Rome,  and  similarly  have  northern 
 European  peasants  done  in  Germany,  in  Scotland,  in  Ireland,  at  intervalls 
 till  our  own  time,  regarding  the  "  need  fire"  or  "  forced  fire  "  as  a  means  of 
 averting  evil.-^     It  is  one  of  the  oldest  rites  of  the  human  race,  and  it  has 
 survived  under  all  religions  alike  down  to  the  other  day,  when  perhaps  it 
 received  its  death-blow  from  the  lucifer  match.      Equally  universal  is  that 
 ceremony  of  annually  driving  out  the  evil  spirits,*  which  was  undertaken  in 
 Peru  by  the  Incas  in  person,  and  which  I  suspect  to  have  survived  in  Scotland 
 to  this  day  in  the  burghal  ceremony  of  "  riding  the  marches."     Customary 
 usages  and  minor  superstitions  outlast  faiths  and  philosophies  ;  and  in  Peru 
 they  defy  the  Church.     Sun  worship  is  gone  ;  but  the  ideas  of  the  Incarial 
 times  remain.     And,   indeed,  there  existed  in  some  districts  sixty  years 
 ago,  and  probably  survives  even  to-day,  a  devout  celebration  of  the  memory 
 of  the  ancient  theocracy,  in  the  shape  of  an  annual  dramatic  representa- 
 tion, which  their  rulers  vainly  sought  to  suppress,  of  the  death  of  the  last 
 Inca  at  the  hamls  of  the  Spaniards. ='' 
 
 It  was  about  as  ill-founded  devotion  as  any  ever  shown  to  a  royal  line  in 
 our  own  hemisphere  ;  for  under  the  Incas  the  people  were  heavily  oppressed 
 by  minutely  tyrannous  laws  and  by  taxes,  they  alone  bearing  all  burdens, 
 and  the  priests  and  nobles  going  free.<^  But  were  it  not  for  the  mistake  of 
 the  last  Inca  before  Pizarro  in  recognising  one  of  his  sons  by  a  foreign 
 queen,  and  dividing  the  empire  between  him  and  the  heir  apparent,  the 
 Inca  empire,  despite  the  disaffection  of  some  of  its  subjects  by  conquest, 
 might  have  subsisted  long.  As  its  priesthood  was  necessarily  less  powerful, 
 so  its  sacrificial  system  was  less  burdensome  and  less  terrible.  Human 
 sacrifices  were  {(tw?     They  sacrificed  their  llamas,  small  birds,  rabbits,  and 
 
 *  Prescott,  "Mexico,"  c.  iv.  end. 
 
 2  Pioscott,  "  Peru,"  c.  iii.  p.  51.     "In  cloudy  weather  they  had  recourse  to  the  means 
 of  friction."     Reville,  p.  196. 
 
 3  iMax  Miiller,  "Physical  Religion,"  pp.  2S6-9. 
 
 *  On  this  usage,  see  Mr.  Frazer's  "Golden  Bough,"  c.  iii.  sec.  I4-IS* 
 
 *  Stevenson,  "  Twenty  Years'  Residence  in  South  America,"  i.  401  ;  ii.  70~3- 
 ^  Prescott,  "  History  of  the  Conquest  of  Peru,"  B.  i.  c.  2,  citing  Garcilasso. 
 
 '  On  this  point,  over  which  there  has  been  dispute,  see  Prescott's  note,  and  Mr.  Kirk's 
 note  on  that,  in  his  edition,  p.  51. 
 
 VOL.  I.  B    B 
 
370  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 dogs;  and  while  they  alone  of  the  American  races  had  burnt  offeiings/ 
 they  ate  tlieir  unburnt  sacrifices  raw,"^  here  giving  another  proof  of  the  ten- 
 dency of  religion  to  preserve,  wherever  possible,  the  most  ancient  usages 
 of  all.  Only  occasionally,  at  certain  feasts,  were  infants  or  children  offered 
 up  ;  and  this  usage  was  being  replaced  by  the  practice  of  drawing  blood 
 without  killing.  When  an  Inca  was  ill,  they  were  still  prepared  to  sacrifice 
 one  of  his  sons  to  the  Sun,  praying  that  the  child  should  be  taken  in  sub- 
 stitution for  the  father,  a  usage  which  we  know  to  have  subsisted  among 
 the  early  Hebrews,  as  among  the  Carthaginians,  and  of  which  a  clear  trace 
 remains  in  the  legend  of  Abraham  and  Isaac.  They  had,  in  addition,  the 
 custom  of  Suttee,  like  the  Hindus ;  good  widows,  especially  those  of  the 
 Incas,  being  at  one  time  expected  to  bury  themselves  alive  when  their  hus- 
 bands died,'^  so  as  to  be  wives  to  them  in  the  spirit  world  ;  but  this  custom 
 was  dying  out,  being  replaced  by  the  symbolism  of  placing  statuettes  in  a 
 man's  tomb  to  represent  his  wives  and  servants.^  And  we  may  be  sure 
 that  the  lovers  of  the  good  old  limes  protested  bitterly  against  such  an 
 emancipation  of  women  from  their  "  proper  sphere." 
 
 Here,  then,  was  a  civilization  in  which,  alongside  of  a  material  progress 
 equal  to  that  of  Mexico,  there  was  but  little  of  the  atrocity  of  the  Mexican 
 religion,  and  a  prospect  of  the  entire  disappearance  of  the  horrible.  And 
 here,  of  course,  the  Christian  champion  steps  in  to  show  how  much  in- 
 ferior Peruvian  religion  and  morals  were  to  those  of  Christianity.  The 
 Peruvians  had  the  institution  of  a  Holy  Communion,  in  which  they  ate  of 
 a  sacred  bread,  sanai,  sprinkled  with  the  blood  of  a  sacrificed  sheep,  the 
 priest  pronouncing  this  formula  : — "Take  heed  how  ye  eat  this  saticu ;  for 
 he  who  eats  it  in  sin,  and  with  a  double  will  and  heart,  is  seen  by  our 
 Father,  the  Sun,  who  will  punish  him  with  grievous  troubles.  But  he  who, 
 with  a  single  heart,  partakes  of  it,  to  him  the  Sun  and  the  Thunderer  will 
 show  favour,  and  will  grant  children  and  happy  years,  and  abundance  of 
 all  that  he  requires."  All  then  made  a  solemn  vow  of  piety  and  loyalty 
 before  eating.-^  And  yet  M.  Reville,  Doctor  in  Divinity,  would  have  us 
 believe  that  there  was  nothing  essentially  "  moral  "  in  such  rites,  because 
 they  had  in  view  temporal  well-being.''  So  with  the  rites  of  infant  baptism 
 and  confession  of  sins,  which  the  Peruvians  also  practised  :  we  are  to  con- 
 clude that   "even  where  the  Peruvian  religion  seems   to  undertake  the 
 
 '  Prescott,  p.  44,  citing  McCulIoch. 
 
 '^  Reville,  p.  220. 
 
 '  In  this  usage  we  probably  have  the  origin  of  the  practice  of  burying  alive  the  unfaith- 
 ful "  Virgins  of  the  Sun  "  in  I'eru,  and  Vestals  in  Rome.  Dr.  Reville  explains  the  practice 
 in  both  cases  by  the  idea  of  devoting  to  darkness  the  unfaithful  spouse  of  the  Sun  (Lec- 
 tures cited,  p.  2071.  IJut  the  Roman  Vestal  was  dedicated  to  the  Goddess  Vesta,  who  is 
 identified  with  the  <.v7r///,  as  heaith-fire  and  as  female  principle.  To  the  same  ancient 
 practice  of  buryin^^  wives  alive  may  l)c  ascribed  the  long-retained  practice  of  putting  some 
 female  criminals  to  death  in  that  fashion.  Michelet  {Giierrcs  ik  rclii^ioii,  p.  87)  gives  the 
 absurd  explanation  that  burying  alive  was  resorted  to  as  being  more  decent  than  burning 
 alive,  because  in  the  latter  case  the  flames  soon  left  the  victim  naked. 
 
 *  Still,  it  sui-vived  the  Conquest.     Prescott,  p.  43,  //,  citing  Ondegardc. 
 
 *  "  Rites  an<l  Laws  of  the  Vncas,"  p.  27. 
 "  Lectures  cited,  pp.  227,  233-5. 
 
THE   RELIGIOXS   OF  A  NCI  EXT  AMERICA.  371 
 
 elevation  and  protection  of  morals,  it  does  so  rather  with  a  utilitarian  and 
 selfish  view  than  with  any  real  purpose  of  sanctifying  the  heart  and  will."* 
 Well,  I  am  obliged  to  say  that  this  is  the  merest  darkening  of  counsel  by 
 Christian  prejudice.  The  Mexicans  and  Peruvians  had  just  the  same  kind 
 of  moral  feeling  in  any  given  stage  of  civilization  as  Christians  have  had  in 
 a  similar  culture  stage  ;  and  when  I  contemplate  the  prevailing  Evangeli- 
 calism of  the  moment  in  England,  with  its  exhortation  to  men  to  believe 
 in  the  blood  of  Jesus  in  order  to  escape  hell-fire,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  see 
 wiiich  hemisphere  has  had  the  advantage.  The  Spaniards  themselves 
 recognised  that  tlie  Mexicans  ate  the  mystical  body  of  the  God  with  every 
 sign  of  devotion  and  contrition.'^  They  were  so  far  from  depreciating  the 
 Peruvian  communion,  that  they  supposed  St.  Bartholomew  had  established 
 it.'  The  Mexican  wise-woman  who  prayed  the  merciful  Goddess  to 
 cleanse  the  babe  from  the  sin  of  its  parents  will  comi)are  jierfectly  well 
 with  the  practisers  of  infant  baptism  among  ourselves;  and  I  cannot  see 
 that  the  Mexican  and  Peruvian  confessors  stood  as  a  rule  any  lower  mor- 
 ally than  those  of  Christendom  at  the  same  culture-stage.*  The  Mexican 
 l)riests  gave  indulgences  ;  but  they  never  went  to  the  lengths  of  the  Re- 
 niissance  Papacy  in  that  direction.  And  if  material  well-being  was  looked 
 to  in  these  New  World  cults,  why,  what  is  the  case  in  England,  when  the 
 Salvation  Army  gives  u[)  salvation,  and  takes  to  industrialism  ;  and  when 
 the  national  motto  seems  to  be  the  apocryphal  royal  saying  that  "  The 
 Pible  is  the  secret  of  England's  greatness  "? 
 
 The  fact  is,  the  promotion  of  material  well-being  is  precisely  what  is 
 oftenest  claimed  for  Christianity  ;  and  the  argument  is,  I  suppose,  only 
 changed  in  the  case  of  Peru  and  Mexico  because  there  it  would  break 
 down.  Eor  the  great  fact  about  these  heathen  civilizations  is  that  they  did 
 attain  material  well-being  in  a  very  remarkable  degree.  I  will  not  say  with 
 Dr.  Draper  that  the  Spaniards  destroyed  a  higher  civilization  than  their 
 own — that  is,  their  own  in  Europe  ;  but  at  least  it  was  in  many  ways 
 superior  to  that  which  they  have  put  in  its  place.  What  they  have  done  is 
 completely  to  destroy  the  civilizations  they  found,  without  replacing  them 
 at  all,  in  large  measure.  In  the  matters  of  road-making,  agriculture,  and 
 the  administration  of  law,  the  new  civilization  is  not  to  be  compa:red  with 
 the  old,  which,  indeed,  was  on  these  points  ahead  of  anything  in  Europe 
 since  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire.  They  had  clean  streets,  and  lighted 
 streets,  when  Europe  had  not.  Dr.  Reville,  indeed,  lays  undue  stress  on 
 the  lighting  of  the  streets,  which  was  not  done  by  lamps,  but  by  fires  ;  ^  but 
 even  that  was  an  improvement  on  the  European  state  of  things  of  even 
 two  hundred  years  ago.      Peru  to-day  is  a  desolation  compared  with  what 
 
 \  lb.,  p.  233. 
 
 '^  Piescott,  "  Mexico,"  app. ,  p.  641. 
 ^  Prescott,  "  Peru,"  p.  52. 
 
 *  The  casting  of  lioroscopes  for  infants  was  practised  in  Europe  just  as  in  Mexico  at 
 the  time  of  the  Conquest. 
 
 '  Robertson,  "History  of  America,"  B.  vii.  (Works,  ed.  1S21,  ix.  22). 
 
372  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 it  was  under  the  Incas-:  and  under  the  new  rehgion  the  native  races  seem 
 to  be  positively  lower  thaji  under  the  old.  And  on  the  side  of  morality 
 and  humanity,  who  shall  say  what  the  gain  was  in  Mexico  when  the  Chris- 
 tian conquerors,  after  execrating  the  practice  of  human  sacrifice,  set  up 
 their  own  Holy  Inquisition  to  claim  its  victims  for  the  propitiation  of  the 
 thre-e  new  Gods,  harrying  still  further  the  people  they  had  already  deci- 
 mated by  atrocious  tyranny  and  cruelty. 
 
 It  is  little  to  the  purpose  to  urge,  as  was  done  by  Joseph  de  Maistre,^ 
 that  "  the  immense  charity  of  the  Catholic  priesthood"  sought  to  protect 
 the  natives  in  every  way  from  the  cruelty  and  avarice  of  the  conquerors.  It 
 is  in  the  nature  of  all  priesthoods  in  close  connexion  with  the  people  to  seek 
 or  wish  its  good  in  some  way  ;  the  Mexican  priests,  as  we  have  seen,  en- 
 joined beneficence,  and  they  treated  their  own  vassals  well.^  But  when 
 the  Christian  apologist  declares  that  he  has  "  no  knowledge  of  a  single  act 
 of  violence  laid  to  tlie  charge  of  the  priests,"  save  in  the  one  case  of  Val- 
 verde  in  Peru,^  he  goes  far  indeed  beyond  his  brief.  There  were  certainly 
 humane  priests,  as  Las  Gasas  and  Sahagun ;  but  what  but  "acts  of  vio- 
 lence "  were  the  whole  efforts  of  the  priesthood  to  destroy  the  ancient 
 monuments  and  records,  to  say  nothing  of  the  operations  of  the  Inquisition  ? 
 It  is  not,  however,  in  mere  "acts  of  violence  "  that  the  fatality  of  Christian 
 junction  with  non-Christian  civilization  lies  :  it  belongs  to  the  nature  of 
 the  case ;  and  religious  principle,  which  encouraged  the  original  act  of 
 conquest,  is  worse  than  powerless  to  avert  the  consequences.  If  higher 
 or  stronger  races  will  not  leave  lower  or  weaker  alone,  they  must  do  one 
 of  three  things  :  exercise  a  mere  supervision,  good  or  bad,  as  Englishmen 
 do  in  India,  where  they  cannot  breed  ;  or  crowd  the  weaker  out,  as  is  being 
 done  in  North  America  and  Australia ;  or  strangle  the  lower  civilization 
 without  developing  the  higher,  as  has  been  done  in  Mexico  and  Peru  by 
 Christians,  and  in  Egypt  by  Saracens.  What  has  never  been  done  is  for 
 one  civilization,  with  a  developed  religious  system,  to  seize  hold  of  an 
 alien  civilization  with  an  alien  religious  system,  and  go  on  developing  the 
 first  while  changing  the  second. 
 
 It  may,  indeed,  be  charged  against  the  Catholic  Church  that  its  un- 
 changeable hostility  to  the  spread  of  knowledge  has  been  the  means  of 
 paralysing  progress,  in  countries  where,  as  in  Mexico  and  Peru,  it  has  been 
 able  to  attain  absolute  dominion  over  minds  and  bodies.  "It  seems  hard," 
 says  Dr.  Tylor,.^  "to  be  always  attacking  the  Catholic  clergy  ;  but  of  one 
 thing  we  cannot  remain  in  doubt — that  their  inlluence  has  had  more  to  do 
 than  anything  else  with  the  doleful  ignorance  which  reigns  supreme  in 
 Mexico."     But  it  is  not  Catholicism  that  is  the  explanation.     "  The  only 
 
 '  Soirhs  de  Saint  Petersbonrg,  ed.  1821,  i.  109. 
 
 *  rrescott,  ]i.  34. 
 
 ^  Kvcn  this  lie  seeks  to  cast  doubt  upon.  But  even  Valverde  might  intelligibly  have 
 sought  to  protect  the  Indians,  as  he  is  said  to  have  done,  after  helping  to  massacre  them 
 in  the  conquest.     They  had  become  his  tithe-payers. 
 
 *  "  Anahu.ic,"  p.  126. 
 
THE  RELIGIONS   OF  ANCIENT  AMERICA.  373 
 
 difference,"  avows  Dr.  Brinton,i  "  in  the  results  of  the  two  great  divisions 
 of  the  Christian  world,"  in  the  matter  of  conquests,  "  seems  to  be  that  on 
 Catholic  missions  has  followed  the  debasement,  on  Protestant  missions  the 
 destruction  of  the  race."  In  fine,  the  claim  tl>at  there  is  an  inherent  civil- 
 izing virtue  in  Christianity  is  here,  as  elsewhere,  turned  to  confusion. 
 "  Christianity,"  as  the  same  writer  declares,^  "  has  shown  itself  incapable 
 of  controlling  its  inevitable  adjuncts  ;  and  it  would  have  been  better, 
 morally  and  socially,  for  the  American  race  never  to  have  known  Christi- 
 anity at  all  than  to  have  received  it  on  the  only  terms  on  which  it  has  been 
 possible  to  offer  it." 
 
 All  that  Christendom  could  possibly  have  done  for-  the  American  civili- 
 zations would  have  been  to  leave  them  to  their  own  development,  like 
 those  of  China  and  Japan,  under  the  influence  of  superior  example  at  cer- 
 tain points.  Progress  there  might  then,  conceivably  have  been. '^  There 
 is  little  use  in  s[)eculating  over  the  might-have-been  :  but  at  least  we  should 
 not  overlook  the  fact  that  in  Peru  there  are  distinct  records  of  rationalism 
 among  the  theocratic  Incas  themselves.  Several  of  these  remarkable 
 rulers  ^  are  recorded  to  have  expressed  the  conviction  that  the  Sun,  for 
 ever  moving  in  his  allotted  course,  could  not  be  the  Supreme  Deity  he  was 
 said  to  be — that  there  must  be  another  Deity  who  ruled  him.^  This 
 reminds  us  that  in  all  ages  and  under  all  religions  there  have  been  Free- 
 thinkers ;  men  whoknew  that- the  Gods  were  m.yths  while  the  Vedic  hymns 
 were  being  made  ;  Sadducees  among  the  Jews ;  Mu'tazilites  among  the 
 Mohammedans.  For.  the.  histo-ry,  of,  mental  evolution  has  not  been  that  of 
 a  sim[)le  process  from  religion  to  rationalism,  but  of  a  constant  war  between 
 the  two  tendencies  in  the  human  mind  ;  and  what  has  happened  hitherto 
 is  just  that  inasmuch  as  the  majority  hav.e  thought  little,  they  have  been 
 
 '  "American  Hero  Myths,"  p,  2q6. 
 
 *  Id.,  p.  207. 
 
 ^  The  Mexican  language,  in  particular,  sliows  great  capabihties.  "  Of  all  tlie  languages 
 spoken  on  the  American  continent,  the  Aztec  is  the  most  perfect  and  finislied,  approach- 
 ing in  this  respect  the  tongues  of  Europe  and  Asia,  and  actually  surpassing  many  of  them 
 by  its  elegance  and  expression.  Although  wanting  the  six  consonants,  /',  d,  f,  r,  g,  s,  it 
 may  still  be  called  full  and  rich.  Of  its. copiousness,  the  "  Natural  History  '  of  Dr.  Her- 
 nandez gives  evidence,  in  which  are  described  twelve  hundred  diflTerent  species  of  Mexican 
 plants,  two  hundred  or  more  species  of  birds,  and  a  large  number  of  quadrupeds,  reptiles, 
 insects,  and  metals,  each  of  which  is  given  its  proper  name  in  the  Mexican  language. 
 Mendieta  says  that  it  is  not  excelled  in  beauty  by  the  Latin,  displaying  even  more  art  in 
 its  construction,  and  abounding  in  tropes,  and  metaphors.  Camargo  calls  it  the  richest  of 
 the  whole  land,  and  the  purest,  being,  mixed  wilJi  no  foreign  barbaric  element  ;  Gomara 
 says  it  is  the  best,  most  copious,  and  most  extended  in  all  New  Spain  ;  Davila  Padilla, 
 that  it  is  very  elegant  and  graceful,  although  it  contains  many  metaphors  which  make  it 
 difficult  ;  Loreozana,  that  it  is  very  elegant,  sweet,  and  complete  ;  Clavigero,  that  it  is 
 copious,  polite,  and  expressive ;  Brasseur  de  Bourbourg,  that  from  the  most  sublime 
 heights  it  descends  to  common  things  with  a  sonorousness  and  richness  of  expression  pe- 
 culiar to  itself  The  missionaries  found  it  ample  for  their  purpose,  as  in  it,  and  without 
 the  aid  of  foreign  words,  they  could  express  all  the  shades  of  their  dogmas '  (Bancroft, 
 iii.  727-8). 
 
 ■•  According  to  Prescott,  the  crania  of  the  Incas  show  great  superiority  to  those  of  the 
 people,  which  may  well  be  believed ;  but  the  data  are  called  m  question.  See  Kirk's 
 ed.  p.  18. 
 
 *  Reville,  pp.  162-5. 
 
J/- 
 
 RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 religions.  To  measure  the  position  of  any  nation  in  this  regard,  you  have 
 for  the  most  part  simply  to  consider  the  status  and  multiplying  power  of 
 its  priesthood.  And  for  us  to-day  there  is  one  special  lesson  to  be  drawn 
 from  the  case  of  these  unbelieving  Incas,  who  never  modified  their  theocratic 
 practice  as  regarded  the  multitude,  whatever  they  might  say  among  them- 
 selves. Their  principle  evidently  was  that  the  masses  must  be  deluded. 
 ^\■ell,  we  know  that  when  the  royal  line  fell,  those  masses  were  wholly  un- 
 able to  act  for  themselves,  and  fell  abjectly  under  the  sway  of  a  mere 
 handful  of  Conquerors.  Unless  your  masses  also  rationalise,  they  will 
 never  attain  a  worthy  humanity.  So  that,  unless  the  Freethinkers  are 
 more  righteous  than  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees — the  proverb  is  somewhat 
 musty. 
 
 So  engrossing  is  the  survey  of  those  two  leading  cults  of  Mexico  and 
 Peru,  that  we  cmnot  well  manage,  in  a  single  lecture,  to  go  beyond  them, 
 though,  as  our  title  and  our  premisses  imply,  there  were  many  other  cults 
 among  the  pre-Christian  Americans.  On  the  beliefs  of  the  savages  of  both 
 North  and  South  America  there  is  now  a  whole  literature.  We  saw,  too, 
 that  the  American  civilization  first  reached  a  notable  stage  in  Central 
 America  and  the  Isthmus  ;  and  traces  have  been  preserved  of  some  of  the 
 cults  which  prevailed  there.  The  summary  given  of  some  of  them  by  Mr. 
 Pmcroft  will  serve  to  illustrate  the  old  process  by  which  the  human 
 nund  reached  the  same  essential  results  out  of  a  superficial  variety  of 
 materials  : — 
 
 "  The  most  prominent  personage  in  the  Isthmian  Pantheon  was  Dabaiba,  a  goddess  who 
 controlled  the  thunder  and  lightning,  and  with  their  aid  devastated  the  lands  of  those  who 
 displeased  her.  In  South  America,  thunder  and  lightning  were  held  to  be  the  instru- 
 ments used  by  the  sun  to  inflict  punishment  upon  its  enemies,  which  makes  it  probable 
 that  Dal)aiba  was  a  transformed  sun-goddess.  Pilgrims  resorted  from  afar  to  her  temple 
 at  Uraba,  bringing  costly  presents  and  human  victims,  who  were  first  killed  and  then 
 burned,  tliat  the  savoury  odours  of  roasting  tlesh  might  be  grateful  in  the  nostrils  of  the 
 goddess.  Some  describe  her  as  a  native  princess,  whose  reign  was  marked  by  great  wis- 
 dom and  many  miracles,  and  who  was  apotheosized  after  death.  She  was  also  honoured 
 as  the  mother  of  the  Creator,  the  maker  of  the  sun,  the  moon,  and  all  invisible  things,  and 
 the  sender  of  blessings,  who  seems  to  have  acted  as  mediator  between  the  i)eople  and  his 
 mother,  for  tlieir  prayers  for  rain  were  addressed  to  hun,  although  she  is  described  as  con- 
 trolling the  showers  ;  and  once,  when  her  worship  was  neglected,  she  inflicted  a  severe 
 drought  upon  the  country.  When  the  needs  of  the  people  were  very  urgent,  the  chiefs 
 and  priests  remained  in  the  temple,  fasting  and  praying  with  uplifted  hands  ;  the  people 
 meanwhile  observed  a  four-days'  fast,  lacerating  their  bodies  and  washing  their  faces, 
 which  were  at  other  times  covered  with  paint.  So  strict  was  this  fast,  that  no  meat  or 
 drink  was  to  be  touched  until  the  fourth  <lay,  and  then  only  a  soup  made  from  mai/.e-flour. 
 The  Priests  themselves  were  sworn  to  perpetual  chastity  anil  abstinence,  and  those  who 
 went  astray  in  these  matters  were  burned  or  stoned  to  death.  Their  temples  were  en- 
 compassed with  walls,  and  kept  scrupulously  clean  ;  golden  trumpets,  and  bells  with  bone 
 clappers,  summoned  the  people  to  worship."  ' 
 
 It  is  needless  to  repeat  the  process  of  comparison  in  this  case.  What  must 
 be  clear  to  all  is  that  the  varying  doctrines,  whether  of  the  Creator-Son 
 interceding  with  the  Divine  Mother,  or  of  the  Divine  Mother  interceding 
 
 '  Pancroft,  iii.  498-9,  citing  Peter  Martyr,  dec.  vii.  lib.  x.  ;  Irving's  "Columbus,"  iii. 
 173-4  ;  Miilleri  "  Amerikanische  Urreligionen,"  p.  421. 
 
THE   RELIGIONS   OF  ANCIENT  AMERICA.  375 
 
 with  the  Creator. Son,  or  of  the  Stern  God  who  must  be  pacified  by  sacri- 
 fice, all  alike  represent  the  child-like  guesses  of  ignorant  humanity.  Where 
 one  reaches  a  fairer  ideal  of  conduct  than  the  other,  it  is  because  humanity 
 had  reached  the  ideal,  not  because  of  any  single  person's  attainment 
 or  revelation  of  it.  The  supernatural  is  but  the  ignorant  distortion  or  the 
 yearning  transfiguration  of  tlie  natural ;  and  this  holds  good  of  morals  as 
 well  as  of  dogmas,  for  men's  morality,  which  would  of  itself  tend  to  advance 
 under  favouring  material  and  social  conditions,  may  as  easily  be  cramped 
 as  elevated  by  their  religion,  of  which  the  nature  is  to  remain  stationary. 
 And  it  is  for  us  to  day  to  act  on  the  perception  that,  whatever  be  our  moral 
 advances  over  the  state  of  things  under  past  faiths,  it  is  not  to  dogma  but 
 to  the  general  lift  of  civilization  that  we  owe  them  ;  and  that  we  shall  never 
 be  on  a  really  safer  and  higher  platform  than  these  bygone  religionists  until 
 we  reverse  not  only  their  practices  but  their  methods. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 In  regard  to  the  question  of  the  antiquity  of  man  in  America,  raised  at 
 the  outset  of  the  foregoing  lecture,  it  should  be  admitted  that  there  is  some 
 staggering  evidence  (cited  in  I^yell's  "  Antiquity  of  Man  ")  as  to  the  exist- 
 ence of  man  in  the  Mississippi  valley  between  fifty  and  sixty  thousand 
 years  ago.  I  can  only  say  that,  pending  an  exact  checking  of  the  calcula- 
 tions of  Lyell,  which  are  open  to  revision,  I  should  still  adhere  to  the 
 hypothesis  of  late  emigration  from  Asia.  There  may,  of  course,  have  been 
 very  early  immigration  also.  Fifty  thousand  years  ago,  "  Man  "  must  have 
 been  a  somewhat  different  creature  from  the  types  known  to  us;  audit 
 would  be  well  to  have  some  check  on  Lyell's  vague  assertion  that  the 
 "  type  "  of  cranium  found  in  the  fourth  forest  stratum  at  New  Orleans  was 
 "  that  of  the  aboriginal  American  race." 
 
PART  II. 
 
 CHRISTIAN,  THEISTIC,  AND  PHILOSOPHIC. 
 
 VOL.  I. — pt.    2. 
 
 C    C 
 
I 
 
Religious  Systems  oe  the  World. 
 
 THE    ARMENIAN    CHURCH. 
 
 By   ¥.   C.    CONYBEARE,    M.A., 
 Za/c  Fellow  and  Tutor  of  University  College,   Oxon. 
 
 The  Armenians  are  at  the  present  day,  with  the  exception,  perhaps,  of  the 
 Jews,  the  most  widely  dispersed  of  all  races.  Wave  after  wave  of  invasion 
 has  broken  over  their  country,  and  carried  sword  and  fire  into  their  valleys, 
 with  the  result  that  famine  has  driven  them  forth  in  groups  of  ten  and  a 
 hundred  families  at  a  time  to  seek  sustenance  among  better-governed  com- 
 munities. I  am  afraid,  also,  that  some  of  their  emigrations  have  been 
 caused  by  their  own  internal  religious  dissensions.  Thus,  owing  to  the 
 Taulician  heresy  in  the  eighth  and  ninth  centuries,  thousands  of  them  were 
 removed  to  Bulgaria,  with  results  momentous  for  the  religious  history  of 
 Europe.  Centuries  afterwards,  the  invasion  of  Tamerlane  drove  new- 
 colonies  of  them  to  take  refuge  in  Poland  and  Russia  ;  and  Shah  Abbas, 
 the  despot  of  Persia,  transported  thousands  of  them  to  Joulfa,  near  Ispa- 
 han, at  a  later  date.  In  the  age  of  Queen  Elizabeth  we  find  the  north  of 
 India  overrun  by  their  merchants.  The  old  cemetery  at  Agra  is  full  of  their 
 tombs,  dating  back  to  the  reign  of  Akbar,  and  in  the  eighteenth  century 
 they  built  churches  in  Calcutta  and  Madras,  and  set  up  printing  presses  ; 
 and  in  the  south  of  India,  in  the  last  century,  they  lived  in  the  best  houses, 
 built  roads  and  bridges,  and  appropriated  to  themselves  the  sacred  places 
 of  the  early  Nestorian  Christians.  In  the  fourteenth  century  they  had 
 churches  in  China ;  and  to-day  the  greatest  number  of  their  refugees  is  to 
 be  found  in  the  Dutch  East  Indies.  The  largest  contributions  in  support 
 of  the  patriotic  paper  which,  appearing  in  London  and  Paris,  has  done  so 
 much  in  the  last  few  years  to  let  in  light  upon  the  persecutions  to  which 
 the  race  is  subjected  in  the  Turkish  Empire,  proceed  from  Java.  In  Eng- 
 land, we  have  colonies  of  them  in  Manchester  and  London ;  in  France,  in 
 Paris  and  Marseilles;  in  Russia,  in  Moscow  and  Rostof  on  the  Don. 
 Everywhere  they  are  traders ;  and  in  cities  like  Tiflis  and  Constantinople, 
 the  greater  part  of  the  shops  are  kept  by  them. 
 
 The  invasions  which  have  devastated  the  country  were  invited  by  its 
 geographical  position.  It  has  always  been  on  the  highway  from  East  to 
 West.    It  is  an  elevated  plateau  from  three  to  five  thousand  feet  above  the 
 
 379 
 
38o  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 sea,  bordered  on  the  north  partly  by  the  Black  Sea  from  Trebizond  to 
 Batoom,  partly  by  the  land  of  Georgia  ;  on  the  south,  its  mountains  sink 
 insensibly  into  the  great  plains  of  Mesopotamia.  On  the  east,  it  approaches 
 nearly  to  the  Caspian  Sea ;  on  the  west,  it  is  limited  by  Cappadocia  and 
 the  mountains  to  the  east  of  the  river  Halys.  In  this  plateau  three  great 
 rivers  take  their  rise — the  Tigris,  the  Euphrates,  and  the  Aras  or  Araxes. 
 Of  these  the  latter  is  the  most  eastern ;  and  in  its  basin,  bordered  on 
 the  north  by  the  great  range  of  the  Anti-Caucasus,  and  on  the  south 
 by  the  range  of  Ararat,  lay  the  ancient  cities  of  Erivan,  Artaxata,  and 
 Edschmiadzin,  the  centres  of  the  old  Armenian  religion  and  civilization. 
 South  of  the  Ararat  range  there  is  the  vast  lake  of  Van,  on  whose  south- 
 east shore,  as  we  know  from  the  cuneiform  inscriptions  found  there,  was 
 once  a  great  political  centre.  On  the  southern  edge  of  Armenia  lay  the 
 Syrian  cities  of  Edessa  and  Samosata,  fertile  in  ancient  times  of  religious 
 heresies  and  orthodoxies. 
 
 Who  the  primitive  inhabitants  of  this  region  really  were,  it  is  difficult  to 
 ascertain.  Following  the  Biblical  legend,  the  Armenians  believe  that  it 
 was  the  original  home  of  the  human  race ;  and  they  still  pretend  that  on 
 the  summit  of  Mount  Ararat,  overhanging  their  convent  of  Edschmiadzin, 
 there  lingers  the  ark  of  Noah.  However,  they  will  admit  that  this  moun- 
 tain has  only  borne  the  name  of  Ararat  in  recent  times,  and  that  its  ancient 
 name  was  Masis.  The  lonely  majesty  of  this  vast  snowy  summit,  rising 
 out  of  sunburnt  plains,  and  limiting  the  horizon  for  hundreds  of  miles  from 
 whichever  side  you  approach  it,  may  well  have  given  rise  to  the  supposi- 
 tion that  it  is  the  mountain  upon  which  the  Ark  rested.  An  American 
 missionary,  Mr.  Eli  Smith,  who  explored  Armenia  in  the  year  1828,  has  a 
 passage  of  touching  simplicity  on  this  point.  He  says,  "Two  objections 
 are  made  to  the  supposition  that  Scripture  refers  to  this  mountain,  when  it 
 speaks  of  the  mountains  of  Ararat.  One  is,  that  there  are  now  no  olive- 
 trees  in  its  vicinity,  from  which  Noah's  doye  could  have  plucked  the  leaf. 
 And  it  is  true;  so  far  as  we  can  lear,n,  that  that  tree  exists  neither  in  the 
 valley  of  the  Koor,  nor  of  the  Aras,  nor  anywhere  nearer  than  Batoom,  a 
 distance  of  seven  days'  journey.  But  might  not  a  dove  make  this  journey 
 in  a  day  ?  or  might  not  the  climate  have  been  warmer  then  than  it  is  now?" 
 The  Armenians  believe  not  only  that  this  is  tiie  mountain  on  which  the 
 Ark  rested  after  the  flood,  but  that  the  ark  still  exists  on  the  top  ;  though 
 rather  from  supernatural  than  from  physical  obstacles  no  one  has  yet  been 
 been  able  to  visit  it.  "  A  devout  Vartabed  once  tried  to  ascend  the 
 mountain.  Wiiile  yet  far  from  the  top  drowsiness  came  upon  him,  and  he 
 awoke  at  the  bottom  in  the  very  spot  whence  he  had  started.  Another 
 attempt  resulted  only  in  the  same  miraculous  failure,  wiiereupon  he  be- 
 took himself  more  fervently  to  prayer,  and  started  the  third  time.  Again  he 
 slept  and  awoke  at  the  bottom.  But  now  an  angel  stood  before  him  with  a 
 fragment  of  the  ark,  as  a  token  that  his  pious  purpose  was  approved  and  his 
 prayer  answered,  though  he  could  never  be  allowed   to  reach   the  summit 
 
THE  ARMENIAN  CHURCH.  381 
 
 of  the  mountain.  The  precious  gift  was  thankfully  received,  and  is  to  lliis 
 day  carefully  preserved  as  a  sacred  relic  in  the  convent."  (Mr.  EU  Smith's 
 narrative.) 
 
 But  putting  aside  legends,  it  is  probable  that  a  race  akin  to  the  modern 
 Georgians  inhabited  the  whole  of  this  country  ;  and  it  has  been  contended 
 that  the  cuneiforms  found  at  Armavir,  in  the  basin  of  the  Araxes,  and  at 
 Van,  are  in  a  dialect  akin  to  ancient  Georgian,  which  became  a  literary 
 language  at  the  same  time  with  Armenian  in  the  fourth  century  a.d. 
 These  inscriptions  show,  in  any  case,  that  in  these  far-off  centuries,  eight 
 hundred  to  one  thousand  k.c,  the  Assyrian  influence  was  paramount  in 
 these  regions,  and  that  they  were  not  yet  settled  by  an  Indo-European 
 race.  And  this  agrees  with  the  traditions  which  ancient  writers  have  pre- 
 served to  us  with  respect  to  the  Armenian  race.  Thus  Herodotus  assures 
 us  that  the  Armenians  were  colonists  of  the  Phrygians,  and  Strabo  tells  us 
 that  they  were  of  the  same  race  with  the  Thessalians  of  the  Balkan  Penin- 
 sula. Their  language  attests  that  they  are  of  an  Indo-European  stock,  and 
 not  of  a  Semitic ;  although  there  are  many  Semitic  roots  and  elements 
 ingrained  in  their  language.  The  only  objection  to  the  supposition  that 
 they  came  into  Asia  Minor  by  way  of  the  Bosphorus,  and  advanced  eastr 
 wards,  instead  of  coming  along  with  the  Iranic  or  Persian  race  from  the 
 East,  is  this,  that  their  language  is  interpenetrated  with  very  old  Persian 
 words,  and  that  the  old  Persian  fire-worship  and  adoration  of  the  goddess 
 Anahita  was  thoroughly  established  among  them.  But  since  the  philo- 
 logist assures  us  that  the  Armenian  language  is  distinct  from  any  Iranic 
 dialect,  we  must  suppose  that  these  Persian  words,  so  frequent  in  the 
 Armenian  dictionary,  were  borrowed.  They  are,  as  a  rule,  terms  relating 
 to  war  and  architecture  and  government.  As  late  as  the  middle  ages  the 
 word  '''"dark"  was  a  common  term  for  any  kind  of  money  among  them, 
 and  the  word  "  matean"  which  means  book,  may  be  a  reminiscence  of  the 
 Medians,  whose  country  was  known  anciently  as  that  of  the  Matieni.  It 
 will  be  remembered  that  the  Magians,  from  whom  the  Persians  derived 
 their  religious  books  and  ceremonies,  were  a  Median  tribe  ;  and  perhaps 
 because  their  first  books  came  from  the  same  people,  the  Armenians  called 
 them  Matean ;  but  this  is  doubtful,  for  they  called  the  Medes  Mark. 
 
 Until  the  first  century  before  Christ  Armenia  was  dependent  on  the 
 State  which  happened  to  have  the  chief  power  in  the  regions  which  lie 
 between  the  Black  Sea,  the  Persian  Gulf,  the  Mediterranean,  and  the 
 Caspian.  I  have  remarked  that  surviving  monuments  attest  the  early 
 political  dependence  of  Armenia  upon  Assyria.  Later  on,  in  the  fifth  cen- 
 tury we  read  that  the  Armenians  served  in  the  army  of  the  great  king 
 against  the  Greeks,  In  later  centuries  they  became  a  client  State  of  the 
 Parthian  Empire,  and  their  country  was  a  recognised  patrimony  of  the 
 eldest  son  of  the  Parthian  monarch.  It  is  not  till  about  ninety  years  B.C. 
 that  Armenia  achieved  any  independent  political  splendour  and  extension 
 of  its  own.     At  that  date  King  Mithridates  of  Pontus  aspired  to  found  an 
 
382  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Empire  in  Asia  Minor  which  should  unite  all  the  scattered  fragments  of 
 Alexander's  conquests,  and  blend  Hellenic  culture  with  Persian  religion 
 and  political  capacity.  Tigranes,  his  relative  and  king  of  Armenia,  joined 
 with  him  in  tliese  aspirations,  and,  as  a  first  step  to  their  fulfilment,  took 
 Cappadocia,  overthrew  the  last  of  the  Seleukids,  and  extended  the  Armen- 
 ian kingdom  as  far  west  as  CiHcia  and  the  Mediterranean.  But  the  joint 
 projects  of  these  two  monarchs  were  wrecked  upon  the  growing  power  of 
 Rome.  Lucullus  and  Pompey  the  Great,  at  the  head  of  their  legions,  in- 
 vaded Armenia,  and  penetrated  as  far  even  as  their  capital,  Artaxata  in 
 the  basin  on  the  Araxes,  For  the  next  three  hundred  years  Armenia 
 remained,  as  Mommsen  says,  a  sally  port  between  the  two  great  rival 
 civilized  powers  of  the  earth,  Parthia  and  Rome  ;  just  as  in  subsequent 
 ages  it  was  ever  disputed  ground  between  the  Roman  Emperors  of  Con- 
 stantinople and  the  Persian  kings  or  Mahometan  khaliphs.  It  was  fre- 
 (}uently,  and  for  long  periods,  a  Roman  client  State;  the  Romans  would 
 bring  a  young  Armenian  prince  to  Rome  and  educate  him,  then  establish 
 him  with  the  help  of  their  legions  on  the  Armenian  throne.  As  soon  as 
 their  backs  were  turned,  their  puppet  would  be  overthrown  by  the  Nation- 
 alist party  in  Armenia,  and  then  the  whole  process  of  conquest  would 
 begin  over  again.  Afghanistan,  lying  between  the  Russian  and  English 
 empires,  has,  and,  it  is  to  be  feared,  may  yet  again  play  a  similar  part  in 
 the  i)olitics  of  the  distant  East. 
 
 In  religion,  and  in  ecclesiastical  matters  generally,  Armenia  held,  after 
 
 her  conversion  to  Cliristianity,  the  same  position  which  she  had  thus  for 
 
 centuries  held   politically.       She  joined  herself  neither  with  the  Greek  nor 
 
 with  the  Syrian  Church,  just  as  to-day  she  joins  herself  neither  with  the 
 
 Russian  nor  the  Roman  Church.     The  Armenians  have  always  held  aloof 
 
 and  kept  their  independence  by  balancing  against  one  another  the  claims 
 
 of  those  religious  organizations  which  happen  to  come  nearest  to  her  and 
 
 to  be  most  powerful.     Christianity  seems  to  have  come  into  their  country 
 
 from  Syria  and   from  Greek  Cappadocia  both  at  once.     That  they  owed 
 
 their  Christianity  in  part  to  the  Syrians  was  remembered  at  a  later  day, 
 
 and   is   the   germ  of  truth   underlying   the   legend  of  King    Abgar.     The 
 
 legend  ran,  that  this  king,  who  ruled  at  l-^dessa,  sent  a  complimentary  letter 
 
 to  Jesus  Christ  in  Jerusalem,  by  the  hand  of  an  artist  who  was  to  make  a 
 
 picture  of  the  Redeemer  and  take  it  back  with  him  to  Edessa.     Jesus  di  i 
 
 not  grant  the  favour  exactly  in  the   way  requested,   but   holding  a  cloth 
 
 before  His  face  gave  it  to  the  messenger  to  take  with  him.      When  King 
 
 Abgar   opened    it,    he    found    miraculously   imj)ressed  thereon  an  image 
 
 of  the  features  of  Clirist.      That  this  is  a  late  legend  is  clear  from  this, 
 
 that  until  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  century,  and   even  later,  there  was 
 
 the  strongest  dislike  among  Christians  of  any  image,  pictorial  or  statuesque, 
 
 of  Christ ;  and  we  have  a  long  letter  of  Eusebius  to  the  sister  of  Constantine 
 
 the  Great  expressly  condemning  anything  of  the  sort. 
 
 In  the  days  of  Diocletian  and  earlier,  a  Roman  garrison  was  stationed 
 
THE  ARMENIAN  CHURCH.  383 
 
 at  Artaxata  and  at  Valarshapat,  and  it  is  very  likely  that  Christianity  first 
 crept  in  through  Christian  soldiers  stationed  in  these  Imperial  camps.  In 
 the  same  way  Roman  soldiers  brought  perhaps  the  earliest  Christianity 
 into  England.  The  Armenian  legends  connect  Christianity  in  Armenia 
 with  Diocletian  and  with  Rome.  In  the  year  260  a.d.  it  is  related  that 
 Tiridates  ascended  the  Armenian  throne.  His  father  Chosroes  had  been 
 murdered  by  one  Anak,  himself  of  Royal  blood,  and  father  of  the  future 
 great  Missionary  Gregory,  called  the  Illuminator,  because  through  him 
 the  Armenians  were  converted  to  Christianity.  In  the  confusion  which 
 followed  the  murder  of  Chosroes  Gregory  was  taken  as  a  yoimg  child  to 
 Ca^sarca,  a  Greek  City  of  Cappadocia,  and  brought  up  as  a  Christian  by 
 a  lady  who  took  pity  upon  him.  As  a  man,  he  returned  to  his  native 
 country,  determined  to  convert  it  to  Christianity.  His  kinsman  Tiridates 
 threw  him  straightway  into  a  well,  where  he  lay  for  many  years.  At  this 
 l>oint  two  ladies  from  Rome  appear  on  the  scene.  Gaiana  was  an  abbess 
 at  Rome  with  one  of  whose  young  nuns,  Rhipsima,  Diocletian  had  fallen 
 in  love.  To  avoid  him,  Rhipsima  flees  all  the  way  to  Valarshapat,  or  New 
 City,  as  it  was  then  called  in  Roman  official  language.  Diocletian  forth- 
 with orders  a  search  to  be  made  all  over  the  empire,  in  prosecuting  which 
 his  vassal,  the  King  Tiridates,  discovers  Rhipsima  in  his  own  territory  and 
 wants  to  marry  her  himself.  She,  having  taken  vows,  resists,  is  backed  up 
 by  Gaiana,  and  they  are  both  martyred  for  their  obstinacy.  The  divine 
 Nemesis  then  falls  upon  Tiridates,  who  goes  mad  like  Nebuchadnezzar, 
 roams  about  the  fields,  and  is  eventually  turned  into  a  black  hog.  Then 
 the  king's  sister  has  a  dream.  It  is  revealed  to  her  that  the  Apostle 
 Gregory  must  be  fetched  up  out  of  his  well.  He  is  accordingly  rescued 
 from  the  scorpions  and  toads  among  which  he  had  lived  for  fourteen 
 years,  fed  miraculously  all  tiie  time  by  an  angel ;  he  collects  the  fragments 
 of  the  bodies  of  Rhipsima  and  Gaiana,  buries  them  and  builds  churches 
 over  them.  Tiridates  regains  his  human  form  and  reason,  and  Gregory 
 has  a  vision  in  which  he  beholds  the  heavens  open  and  the  only-born 
 Son  of  God  descend  where  the  present  church  of  Edschmiadzin  is  built. 
 That  word  is  an  Armenian  sentence,  and  means,  "  The  only  born  came 
 down."  Close  by  you  are  shown  at  the  present  day  the  churches  of  the 
 first  martyrs,  Rhipsima  and  Gaiana.  At  some  distance  you  are  also  shown, 
 close  under  Mount  Ararat,  the  well  in  which  St.  Gregory  was  confined. 
 It  is  a  circular  pit,  walled  with  stone  and  covered  with  a  dome,  and  is  a 
 very  sacred  spot  and  much  frecjuented  by  pilgrims.  St.  Gregory,  in  the 
 .Armenian  imagination,  ranks  as  high  as  any  of  the  apostles,  and  his  dead 
 hanil,  a  shrivelled  black  object,  is  still  preserved  in  the  Cathedral  Church, 
 and  is  used  to  ordain  each  succeeding  Catholicos.  But  this  is  anticipating. 
 After  the  vision  of  Gregory,  Tiridates  becomes  a  Christian,  and  by  force 
 or  persuasion  converts  200,000  of  his  subjects.  He  then  despatches 
 Gregory  to  Cffisarea  to  be  ordained  by  Leontius,  the  Greek  Bishop  of 
 Cappadocia.     There  he  was  ordained  as  the  Catholicos  of  Armenia.     This 
 
384  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 title  simply  meant  that  he  presided  over  the  whole  region  of  Armenia  and 
 was  equivalent  to  the  Latin  dignity  of  Bishop  ///  partibus  infidelium.  It 
 was  a  less  honourable  position  than  that  of  Patriarch  at  that  time ;  and  it 
 was  only  when  the  Armenians  definitely  separated  themselves  from  the 
 Greeks  that  the  title  of  Catholicos  acquired  the  meaning  of  Primate  of 
 Armenia/ 
 
 The  privileges  of  a  Catholicos  were  thus  in  the  fourth  century  inferior 
 to  those  of  a  Patriarch.  But  with  the  gradual  separation  of  the  Armenians 
 from  the  Greek  Orthodox  Church  during  the  two  following  centuries,  its 
 head,  who  had  been  at  first  a  mere  deputy  of  the  Bishop  of  Caearea, 
 acquired  privileges  similar  to  those  which  the  Pope  of  Rome  enjoys  to-day. 
 Since  the  fifth  century,  the  Catholicds  alone  has  had  the  right  to  ordain 
 Bishops  and  to  consecrate  the  holy  oil  used  in  the  sacraments  of  con- 
 firmation, ordination,  and  extreme  unction.  He  even  institutes  and  gives 
 spiritual  authority  to  the  Patriarchs  who  preside  over  the  Armenians  in 
 Constantinople  and  in  Jerusalem.  Thus  we  have  to-day  a  complete  in- 
 version of  the  fourth-century  practice. 
 
 The  Armenians  not  only  converted  themselves  to  Christianity,  but  tried 
 to  persuade  the  rude  and  fierce  nations  who  surrounded  them  to  adopt 
 the  same  faith.     It  is  probable,  though  not  certain,  that  the  Georgians  and 
 the  Albanians  who    inhabited  all  the  southern   slopes   of  the    Caucasus 
 range  derived  their  Christianity  from  the  Armenians ;  and  we  have  in  a 
 contemporary  historian  a  touching  relation  of  an  attempt  which  was  made 
 by  a  son  of  the  Illuminator  Gregory  of  the  same  name  to  bring  over  the 
 Huns  to  Christianity.      There   was,  we  read,  a  connection  by  marriage 
 between  the  king  of  the  Huns  and  the   Armenian  Royal  family,  relying 
 on  which  the  young  Gregory  presented  himself  before  the  king  of  the 
 Massaget?e,  who  commanded  the  immense  army  of  tlie  Huns.     Standing 
 up  before  them  he  began  to  preach  the  gospel  of  Christ  and  bid  them 
 acknowledge  the  true  God.     At  first  the   Huns  listened  attentively,  ac- 
 cepted his  teaching,  and  submitted  themselves  to  him.     But  afterwards, 
 when  they  came  to  examine  the  religion  of  Christ,  they  learned  that  God 
 detests  pillage,  murder,  avarice,  and  the  wish  to  get  hold  of  that   which 
 belongs  to  other  people.     When  tliey  learned  that,  they  said,  "  If  we  leave 
 off  pillaging  and  despoiling  other  people,  and  cease  to  rob  them  of  their 
 goods,  how  shall  we  keep  up  so  numerous  an  army  as  ours."     Then  in 
 very  persuasive  language  Gregory  tried  to  convince  them,  but  no  one  would 
 listen  to  him  any  more.     They  said  among  themselves,  Here  is  one  come 
 among  us  who  with  such  harangues  as  these  tries   to  prevent  our  doing 
 what  we  have  always  done  till  now.     If  we  listen  to  him  and  become 
 Christians,  what  will  become  of  us  ?  we  shall  hardly  be  able  to  live  on 
 horseback    as    before.      And  they  added   that  it  was  a   scheme  of  the 
 Armenian  king  "  who  has  sent  preachers  to  us  in  order  to  propagate  this 
 doctrine  among  us  and  make  us  cease  from  our  incursions  into  his  king- 
 dom.   Come,  let  us  kill  him  and  begin  our  invasions  afresh,  and  enrich  our 
 
THE  ARMENIAN  CHURCH.  385 
 
 country  with  plenty  of  booty."     Then  the  king  of  the   Massagetse  placed 
 himself  at  the  head  of  his  troops.     They  brought  a  wild  horse  and  tied 
 the  young  Gregory  to  its  tail,  and  lashing  it  sent  it  galloping  along  the 
 siiore  of  the  Great  Northern  Sea, — the  Caspian, — which  extended  beyond 
 their  camp,  which  lay  in  the  plain  of  Vadnian.     It  was  thus  they  slew  the 
 goodly  preacher  of  Chiist,  the  young  Gregory.     But  those  who  were   his 
 companions  took  back  his  body  into  the  country  of  the  Albanians  on  the 
 borders  of  Armenia,  and  buried  it  near  the  church  which  had  been  built 
 by  the  first  Gregory,  surnamed  the  Great,  who  was  the  grandfather  of 
 Gregory.     And  every  year  the  inliabitants  of  all  the  Cantons  meet  together 
 to  celebrate  his  memory  and  the  day  of  his  martyrdom.  (Faustus  of  Buzant.) 
 In  Armenia  Christianity  had   to   contend   with  the  old  religion   of  the 
 people,  which  did  not  yield  without  a  struggle.    We  learn  from  Strabo  that 
 the  sacred  institutions  of  the   Persians  were  shared   by  the   Medes  and 
 Armenians.      "The   latter   pay   special  lionour  to    the    worship  of    the 
 goddess   Anaitis,  temples  to  whom  they  have  built  in  sundry  places,  but 
 especially  in  Akilisene,  where  they  offer  up  human  sacrifices  of  male  and 
 female  slaves.     And  in  honour  of  the  same  goddess  the  Armenian  maidens, 
 even  the  noblest,  are  wont  to  prostitute  themselves,  following  the  example 
 of  the   Lydian  girls  in   the  days  of  Herodotus."      We  know  from  Pliny 
 how   strict   in  their    religion   the   Princes   of    Armenia    were  in  the  first 
 century,  when  one  of  them,  whom  Nero  had  invited  to  come  to  Rome, 
 refused  on  the  score  that  to  cross  the  sea  would  be  to  pollute  it.      Even 
 after  the  conversion  to  Christianity  of  the  Armenians  there  are  indications 
 tliat  the  old  religion  lingered  on  in  out-of-the-way  places.     Thus  in  the 
 twelfth  century  we  hear  of  people  in  the  south  of  Armenia  who  worshipped 
 the    sun    and    reverenced    particular  trees,  especially  the  poplar.      The 
 Armenians,  when  tliey  pray,  always  turn  to  tlie  sun,  whatever  its  position 
 in  the  heavens.     For  the  first  400  years  after  their  conversion  the  priest- 
 hood  was  hereditary  among  them,  just  as  it  had  been  hereditary  among 
 the  Magi  before  their  conversion.     In  the  fourth  century  the  primacy  of 
 the  Armenian   Church  passed  from  Gregory  the  Illuminator  to   his  sons 
 and  grandsons.     In  the  eighth  century  it  was  necessary  to  draw  up  regu- 
 lations for    the    Armenian    Church,    ordaining   that    any  one  might   be 
 ordained  priest  who  was  spiritually  competent,  and  thai  candidates  need 
 not  be  drawn  thenceforth  exclusively  from  priesdy  families.     Lastly,  it  is 
 interesting  to  notice,  that  the  custom  of  sacrificing  animals  lingered  on 
 to  a  much  later  day.     A  large  part  of  the  income  of  an  Armenian  priest 
 in    the    days   anterior  to  their  conversion  was   derived  from  the  sacrifices 
 of  animals  brought  to  the  temple  by  the  people.     At  the  time  of    tlieir 
 conversion  these  sacrifices  were  not  discontinued,  but  only  christianized. 
 Thus  the  Armenians  even  to-day,  when  tliey  kill  an  animal  for  food,  are 
 said   to   turn   its   head  towards  the  east   and  make  a  cross  over  it  in  the 
 name  of  the  Trinity.^     The  Muhammadan  practice  is  similar.     They  also 
 
 '  F.li  Smith's  Narrative  of  Missionaiy  Research  in  Armenia. 
 Vol.  I. — -pt.  2.  D  D 
 
386  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 kill  an  animal  for  food  in  the  name  of  God  the  Most  Merciful,  and  it 
 would  have  been  well  if  in  that  name  they  had  only  cut  the  throats  of 
 animals  and  not  of  men  also.  In  the  eighth  century  canons  were  made 
 for  the  Armenian  Church  forbidding  animals  to  be  actually  slaughtered 
 in  the  church,  but  allowing  tlie  ]iriests  to  accept  their  tit-bits  and  portions 
 as  before. 
 
 It  is  perhaps  more  than  a  coincidence,  that  in  the  last  decades  of  the 
 third  century,  when  Christianity  was  beginning  to  spread  over  Asia,  there 
 was  a  revival  also  of  the  old  Persian  or  Magic  religion.  With  the  advent 
 of  a  Sassanide  dynasty  in  Persia  this  revival  took  place  ;  and  there  forth- 
 with ensued  a  death  struggle  between  the  fire-worship  and  the  Christian 
 religion,  from  the  Persian  Gulf  up  to  the  very  sources  of  the  rivers  Tigris 
 and  Euphrates.  In  Armenia,  after  a  stubborn  struggle,  Christianity  pre- 
 vailed; but  in  Persia  Magism  got  tlie  up]ier  hand.  The  custom  of  exposing 
 the  dead  to  be  devoured  by  birds  now  came  to  be  enforced  upon  every  one, 
 whereas  it  had  hitherto  been  confined  to  the  magi  or  priest  caste.  At  the 
 same  time  the  cumbrous  ceremonial  of  priestly  purification  was  enforced 
 upon  the  whole  people.  But  it  was  too  great  a  burden  to  bear.  And 
 it  was  not  many  centuries  before  the  Persians  themselves  sought  refuge 
 from  the  righteousness  of  the  Magi  in  Muhammadanism,  a  religion  at  once 
 simpler  and  more  elevated  in  its  conceptions  of  things  divine.  The  mild 
 theism  of  the  Parsees  of  Bombay  is  the  only  form  in  which  the  Magism  of 
 the  Sassanide  epoch  to-day  survives. 
 
 Elisa^us  the  teacher,  an  Armenian  writer  whose  style  is  not  unworthy  of 
 the  great  events  which  he  relates,  has  preserved  for  us  many  moving 
 pictures  of  the  fierce  persecutions  of  .Armenian  Christians  which  were 
 instigated  by  the  Magi  in  the  fifth  century. 
 
 These  Persian  persecutions  were,  like  those  inflicted  by  Rome,  as  much 
 political  as  religious,  and  were  designed  to  detach  the  Armenians  from  the 
 Greek  alliance.  In  the  person  of  Constantine,  Christianity  for  the  first  time 
 in  history  sat  on  the  throne  of  the  Cassars  and  became  the  official  religion  of 
 the  Empire.  Hence  the  Persian  National  party,  who  had  triumphed  in  the 
 accession  to  the  throne  of  the  Sassanides,  regarded  Christianity  as  Greek  in 
 its  sympathies,  and  determined  to  y)Ut  it  down.  Thus  we  read  of  edicts 
 issued  by  the  Persian  kings  forbidding  to  the  Armenians  the  use  of  Greek 
 books.  But  Christianity  was  really  far  from  Hellenizing  the  Armenians; 
 on  the  contrarv,  it  was  the  occasion  of  their  foundnio:  a  vernacular  literature 
 written  in  an  alphabet  of  their  own.  .Armenian  literature  bcLjins  with  their 
 conversion  to  Christianity.  Under  (Jregory  and  his  immediate  successors 
 they  seem  to  have  translated  chiefly  from  Svriac  books  ;  but  during  the 
 fifth  century  they  translated  Greek  books.  Scholars  were  sent  abroad,  to 
 Athens  and  Antioch  and  Alexandria,  to  collect  the  leading  works  of  (}reek 
 divines  and  translate  them  into  Armenian,  and  these  works  survive  as 
 models  of  style  and  purity  of  diction  to  the  present  day.  It  is  only  to  be 
 regretted  that   they   translated   exclusively  those  writers,  like  Chrysostom 
 
THE  ARMENIAN  CHURCH.  387 
 
 and  the  Basils,  who  were  in  vogue  in  the  fifth  century,  to  the  neglect  of  the 
 great  writers  and  thinkers  of  previous  generations.  We  could  well  spare  a 
 translation  even  of  Chrysostom,  if  we  had  instead  versions  of  Clement  and 
 Origen.  Naturally,  however,  they  chose  the  fashionable  preachers  of  the 
 day.  It  is  more  lamentable  that  they  should  have  translated  great  writers 
 like  Nestorius  and  Theodore  of  Mopsuestia,  but  have  afterwards  destroyed 
 them,  because  they  were  heretical.  I  fear  that  the  Armenians  had  not  the 
 virtue  of  tolerance  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  any  more  than  in  succeeding 
 centuries.  Thus  we  read  that  Mesrop  undertook  to  beat  down  the  bold 
 and  insolent  sect  of  the  "muddy  ones,"  that  is,  of  the  Nestorians,  who  were 
 ])reaching  their  tenets  in  Armenia.  These  poor  heretics  were  given  ov.  r 
 to  the  most  terrible  tortures.  "  When  "  adds  Mesrop's  biographer,  "  in  spite 
 of  torment  and  imprisonment,  these  men,  hated  of  God,  refused  to  walk  in 
 the  way  of  salvation,  they  were  burnt  alive  or  chased  with  ignominy  from  the 
 country."  This  was  in  the  fifth  centur)',  when  the  Persian  persecution  was 
 raging.  It  is  evident  that  the  uses  of  adversity  were  lost  upon  the  Arme- 
 nians of  that  day. 
 
 The  invention  of  the  Armenian  alphabet  marks  a  new  epoch  in  the  life 
 of  the  Armenian  people.  It  came  of  the  want  of  a  special  character  which 
 would  render  all  ilie  sounds  of  their  language,  as  the  Greek  and  Syriac 
 alphabets  failed  to  do.  The  Bil)le  and  the  liturgical  books  of  the  Greeks 
 and  Assyrians  were  the  first  to  be  translated,  and  written  out  in  the  Ar- 
 menian character,  and  these  versions  really  created  the  literary  language  of 
 Armenia,  in  which  were  written  forthwith  a  great  number  of  historical  and 
 theological  works.  This  literary  outburst  may  be  compared  to  that  which 
 took  place  in  the  sixteenth  century  in  Germany,  when  Luther,  by  trans- 
 lating the  Bible  into  German,  created  literary  German  language  such  as  it  is 
 until  to-day.  In  the  same  way  Armenian  literature,  once  created,  kept  alive 
 the  National  spirit  and  became  its  guardian  and  vehicle,  preserving  its  life 
 against  the  alien  conquerors  who  overran  their  land,  but  found  themselves 
 unable  to  impose  their  language  or  their  religious  books.  In  converting 
 Armenia  to  Christianity,  Gregory  the  Illuminator  had  but  added  one  to  the 
 many  pretexts  of  war  which  the  neighbours  of  Armenia  had  against  iier  ; 
 but  the  discovery,  or  rather  invention  by  Mesrop  of  a  peculiar  alphaiitt 
 prevented  the  national  spirit  from  being  lost,  and  entrenched  it  for  ever 
 in  an  impregnable  fortress. '^ 
 
 But  the  Christian  religion,  even  if  it  purified  manners  and  religious  con- 
 ceptions for  the  Armenians,  and  gave  them  a  literature  which  has  ever 
 since  been  the  safe-guard  and  vehicle  of  the  expression  of  their  national 
 spirit,  brought  also  political  ruin  upon  them.  More  than  before,  the 
 Armenian  kings  became  the  creatures  alternately  of  Greek  and  Persian 
 despots.  Horde  after  horde  of  Huns  and  other  barbarians  overran  their 
 land,  burned  their  cities,  and  pillaged  their  churches;  and  the  Armenians 
 paid  tribute  first  to  one  and  then  to  another  conqueror,  often  to  two  at 
 
 '  Cp.  Geyterias  "  Armeuie  et  les  Anneniens."' 
 
388  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 once.  But  amid  tliese  convulsions,  while  the  old  kingship  disappears,  a 
 new  power  for  the  people  to  look  to  and  gather  round  emerges,  namely  the 
 Patriarchy.  The  discredit  into  which  royal  power  sank  more  and  more, 
 owing  to  the  incapacity  and  debauchery  of  the  princes,  intensified  the 
 national  respect  for  the  office  of  Patriarch.  This  office  had  always 
 remained  in  the  family  of  St.  Gregory  as  long  as  there  were  any  members 
 surviving  of  that  family  ;  and  the  men  who  held  that  office  were  careful, 
 while  spreading  Christianity,  to  gather  into  their  own  hands  the  moral 
 authority  which  the  Kingship  was  day  by  day  losing.  Consequently,  when 
 .\rmenia  as  a  political  State  fell  to  pieces,  it  was  around  the  Patriarch 
 that  the  population  rallied,  for  the  national  religion  remained  the  only 
 bond  which  could  unite  districts  of  their  country  separated  from  one 
 another  by  long  distances,  by  clashing  interests,  and  often  governed  by 
 different  masters. "^ 
 
 This  explains  why  the  Armenians  have  been  so  prone  to  identify  their 
 race  with  their  religion,  to  deny  the  virtue  of  patriotism  to  all  who  have 
 left  on  conscientious  grounds  the  old  Church  of  Gregory  the  IlUuninator, 
 and  attached  themselves  either  to  the  Roman  Catholics  or  to  Protestant 
 sects.  The  complaint  is  always  the  same,  tliat  missions,  whether  of  the 
 Pope  or  of  the  American  Protestants,  denationalize  the  Armenians.  I  do 
 not  believe  myself  that  the  complaint  is  well-grounded,  or  that  the  Arme- 
 nians who  have  joined  other  confessions  are  in  any  way  behindhand  in 
 their  aspirations  for  the  future  welfare  of  the  race. 
 
 In  the  Eastern  Church  much  activity  was  wasted  in  the  fourth  and  fifth 
 centuries  in  defining  dogmatically  tlie  metaphysical  relationship  of  the 
 Second  to  the  First  Person  of  the  Trinity  ;  and  although  the  Greek  tongue 
 failed  to  spread  in  Armenia,  yet  these  baneful  speculations  excited  interest 
 there,  and  occasioned  much  heart-burning  and  persecution.  The  Arme- 
 nians sent  a  son  of  Gregory  named  Aristaces  to  take  part  in  the  great 
 coun':il  of  Nice,  in  the  year  325,  when  the  opinions  of  Arius  were  in 
 dispute.  They  attended  the  Council  of  Constantinople  in  381  and  of 
 Kphesus  in  431,  and  these  three  Councils  they  recognised.  The  issue  at 
 Ephesus  in  431  was,  wliether  Nestorius  kept  properly  distinct  the  two 
 natures  in  Christ,  which,  according  to  the  Orthodox  view,  it  was  important 
 not  to  confuse.  Nestorius  iield  that  in  Christ  the  Divine  swallows  up  and 
 absorbs  the  human  character.  The  Orthodox  admittetl  that  Christ  was 
 without  sin  ;  but  Nestorius  went  further,  and  in  holding  that  Christ's  body 
 was  freed  from  the  limitations  of  time  and  space,  was  incomprehensible 
 and  not  "to  be  delineated  or  in  any  way  imaged,  fell  into  the  damnable 
 f  rror  of  Monophysilism.  It  was  Nestorius  who  led  one  side  in  the  stormy 
 Council  at  Ej^hesus  ;  and  St.  Cyril  of  Alexandria,  the  coarse  and  brutal 
 murderer  of  Hypatia,  led  the  other  side.  Needless  to  say,  it  was  his  view 
 which  triumphed.  But  this  Council  was  the  occasion  of  the  separation  from 
 the  Greek  of  that  Neslorian  Church  whose  missionaries  carried  Christi- 
 ^  I  borrow  these  remarks  from  Geyterias. 
 
THE  ARMENIAN  CHURCH. 
 
 389 
 
 anity  into  Siberia  and  into  China  by  land,  and  into  the  south  of  India  by 
 sea.  In  Armenia,  as  I  have  already  mentioned,  Nestorius  had  his  follow- 
 ing, which  was  however  crushed  out  by  the  persecuting  spirit  of  the 
 Armenians  themselves.  But  the  turn  of  the  Armenians  came  before  long. 
 They  too  were  to  become  heretics  in  the  year  451  a.d.,  when  the  Fourth 
 general  Council  of  the  Church  was  held  at  Chalcedon,  and  Eutyches  was 
 condemned  for  what  seems  to  us  now-a-days  a  microscopic  error.  It 
 appears  that  the  Armenians,  although  tiiey  afterwards  agreed  with  the  con- 
 troversial results  arrived  at  in  this  Council,  were  not  well  represented  at 
 it,  and  were  deceived  by  news  brought  to  them,  that  in  the  Council  of 
 Chalcedon  the  Greeks  had  relapsed  into  the  Nestorian  errors  condemned 
 in  431  at  Ephesus.  The  Armenian  Patriarch  accordingly  convened  a 
 Council  in  the  year  491  at  Valarshapat,  and  anathematized  the  Council  of 
 Chalcedon.  Subsequently  they  discovered  their  mistake,  and  to-day  they 
 anathematize  Eutyches  no  less  than  do  the  Greeks.  But  aviour  propre 
 has  prevented  them  from  ever  joining  again  with  the  Greek  Orthodox 
 Church.  Even  under  Basil,  in  the  fourth  century,  we  hear  that  there  were 
 cjuarrels  at  Cassarea  between  the  Greek  and  Armenian  students  of 
 theology.  The  feeling  of  dislike  steadily  grew ;  and  the  establishment  of 
 a  separate  Armenian  era  in  the  year  551  marks  the  final  rupture  of  the 
 Armenian  with  the  Greek  Cliurch. 
 
 At  this   point,  therefore,  we  may  fitly  summarize  the  peculiarities  which 
 mark  off  the  Armenian  from  other  Churclies  ;  and  I  must  assume  that  my 
 
 WEST 
 
 Fig.  2. 
 
 GROUNU    PLAN    OF   ARMENIAN    CHURCH    AT 
 GOPTCHA    YANK    NEAR    ALEXANDRAPOL. 
 
 VIEW   OF    NORTH    SIDE    OF    DITTO. 
 
390  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 hearers  are  familiar  with  the  main  outlines  of  the  Christian  system,  as  pre- 
 sented by  the  Greek,  or  Latin,  or  English  Church.     Firstly,  as  to  the  plan 
 of  the  fabric.     An  Armenian  church  is  usually  an  oblong  building^  which 
 assi.mes  internally  a  cruciform  shape  by  reason  of  there  being  in  each  cor- 
 ner an  oblong  or  square  cell,  of  which  the  walls  are  carried  up  to  the  roof, 
 so  that  it  only  communicates  with  the  general  interior  through  a  low  arched 
 door.     The  general  interior  is  thus  divided  into  four  arms  roofed  by  four 
 gables  ;  but  over  the  middle  of  the  building,  where  the  gables  converge,  is  a 
 round  or  polygonal  tower,  admitting  light  to  the  church  through  its  windows, 
 and  surmounted  by  a  flattened  form  of  steeple.     Dr.  Neale's  description  of 
 the   general  type  of  a  Byzantine  church,  "as  a  gabled  Creek   cross,  with 
 central  dome,  inscribed  in  a  square  or  quasi-square,"  suits  an  Armenian  or 
 Georgian  church  equally  well.     Entering  the  western  gate  of  the  church, 
 one  stands  in  what  was  called  the  narthex,  or  part  of  the  building  reserved 
 for  penitents  and   catechumens,  and  one  is  flanked  on  either  hand  by  the 
 walled-up  cells  already  mentioned.     The  narthex  is  usually  separated  from 
 the  space  under  the  dome  by  a  railing,  which  is  often  carried  also  along 
 the  inner  edges  of  the  transej)ts,  so  as  to  mark   off  the  space  under  the 
 tower,  which  answers  to  our  nave  and  chancel  both  at  once.     Advancing  a 
 iQ'fi  steps,  one  finds  oneself  under  the  tower  or  dome,  with  a  north  and  south 
 transept  on  the  left  and  right  hands.      These  transepts  are  very  stunted  in 
 length,  and  would  hardly  be  recognised  for  transepts,  as  they  do  not  project 
 externally  beyond  the  fabric,  and  in  this  respect  differ  from  the  transepts 
 of  an  European  church.      Standing  and   looking  eastward,  one  is  faced  by 
 an  apsidal  recess  opening  between  the  two  corner  cells  already  mentioned. 
 The  floor  of  this  recess  is  railed  off,  raised  by  steps  from  the  rest  of  the 
 church,  and  in  the  middle  of  it  stands  the  altar.     There  is  an  arrangement 
 for  drawing  a  curtain  across  the  front  of  the  recess,  so  as  to  screen  the  altar 
 from  the  congregation.     This  apsidal  recess  is  in  Armenia  called  the  bcni, 
 from  the  Greek  word  bcnia,  which  in  old  days  meant  the  jnilpii  from  which 
 the  orator  addressed  the  Creek  eaiesia,  or   parliament.      The  Armenian 
 word  for  church,  "  eghcghetzi,"  is  itself  a  corruption  of  the   word  ar/csia. 
 The  corner  cell  to  the  left  of  the  bem  is  in  a  Creek  church  called  the/;v'- 
 fhesis,  or  place  of  exposing  the  bread  and  wine  to  be  consecrated  for  tiie 
 Communion.     The  cell  on  the  riglu  is  in  Greek  called  the  diaconicon,  or 
 chamber  for  the  deacons,     ^n   a   Creek   church  they  both  open  directly 
 into  the  benia,  but  in  an  Armenian  church  into  the  transepts  only,  so  that 
 the  priest  and  deacon,  when  they  are  going  to  celebrate  the  Communion, 
 must  bring  the  bread  down  out  of  the  prothesis  into  the  transept,  round  the 
 massive  column  which  rises  to  left  of  the  beina  and  helps  to  sui)port  the 
 tower,  and  then  up  the  steps  of  the  bema,  before  it  can  be  laid  on  the  altar. 
 On  this  altar  lies  a  copy  of  the  gospels,  usually  a  manuscript,  and  often  very 
 ancient.     The  altar,  or  sacred  table,  stands  in    the  middle  of  the  bema,  so 
 that  the  priests  and  deacons   can  walk  rounil  it,  which  they  often  do,  the 
 
 '   .^ec-  Woodcuts. 
 
THE  ARMENIAN  CHURCH.  391 
 
 while  censing  it  and  the  sacred  book  and  host  which  repose  on  it,  with 
 fragrant  incense.  'l"he  curtain  drawn  across  the  bema, — sanctuary,  or  Holy 
 of  Holies,  — answers  to  the  altar  rails  in  an  English  church.  In  a  Greek 
 church  a  regular  wall  with  folding  doors,  called,  from  the  pictures  or  icons 
 which  decorate  it,  the  iconostasis,  takes  the  place  of  the  Armenian  curtain. 
 \\\  a  Latin  church  the  side  cells  I  have  mentioned  would  be  side  chapels, 
 but  in  an  Armenian  church  there  is,  as  a  rule,  but  one  altar,  though,  unlike 
 the  Greek,  their  religion  allows  of  more  than  one.  The  auibon,  or  jjulpit 
 from  which  the  prophecy,  epistle  and  gospel,  is  read,  is  in  the  nave,  to  one 
 side  or  other  of  the  beuia,  or  centrally  placed  under  the  domi.  Sermons 
 also  are  preached  from  it,  but  do  not  form  so  integral  and  customary  a  . 
 part  of  the  religious  service  as  with  us.  The  women  are  separated  from 
 the  men,  and  keep  themselves  behind  a  railing  in  tlie  narthex,  or  up  in 
 galleries  if  there  be  any.  In  Tifiis,  however,  and  Calcutta,  and  in  large 
 towns  generally,  where  they  are  not  kept  out  of  the  way  as  in  Turkey,  they 
 ofien  stand  or  sit  nuscellaneously  along  with  the  men.  In  India,  there  are 
 scats  in  Armenian  churches  as  in  English,  but  in  Armenia  never.  All 
 alike  stand,  or,  if  fatigued,  squat  on  the  floor.  The  walls  are  sometimes 
 covered  with  sacred  pictures,  and,  as  in  the  Greek  Church,  images  are  for- 
 bidden. Before  each  picture  burn  candles  and  lamps  ;  and  most  private 
 devotion  consists,  as  in  Greece  and  Russia,  in  swaying  oneself  to  and  fro 
 in  prayer,  with  frequent  prostrations  on  the  pavement  before  these  holy 
 pictures.  Erom  an  almost  forgotten  work  (Smith  and  Dwight,  "  Missionary 
 Research  in  Armenia"),  I  cjuote  the  following  description  of  the  celebration 
 of  High  Mass  in  the  church  of  the  monastery  of  Edschmiadzin.  As 
 having  myself  witnessed  the  function,  I  can  vouch  that  their  acount  is 
 just,  while  at  the  same  time  it  is  unprejudiced  by  that  lack  of  sympathy 
 with  the  doctrine  and  arrangements  of  an  Eastern  church,  which  disfigures 
 much  of  their  book,  and  shows  that  they  had  not  left  their  Methodism 
 behind  them  in  America. 
 
 '•The  dressing  of  the  officiating  bishop  was  the  first  important  part  of 
 the  Mass,  and  a  distinct  prayer  or  meditation  is  said  for  every  article  of 
 dress  put  on.  But  the  ceremony  being  private,  we  witnessed  only  the 
 chanting,  which  was  performed  at  the  same  time  in  the  church.  He  then 
 entered  in  a  splendid  flowing  mantle  of  heavy  gold  cloth,  with  a  broad 
 upright  collar  stiff  with  gold,  antl  a  mitre  of  the  same  rich  materials,  orna- 
 mented in  front  and  behind  with  a  sun  of  brilliants  set  in  gold.  Having 
 washed  his  hands  before  all,  read  a  summary  confession  of  his  sins,  and 
 received  absolution  pronounced  by  an  assistant,  he  retired  again  to  the 
 sacristy  to  prepare  the  wine  and  the  bread  for  consecration.  A  little  wine, 
 not  mixed  with  water  as  in  the  Latin  Church,  is  poured  into  a  chalice  ;  a 
 thin  cake  of  bread,  not  leavened  as  in  the  Greek  Church,  and  stamped 
 with  various  sacred  symbols  and  letters,  is  placed  on  a  small  silver  plate 
 nicely  fitted  to  the  top  of  the  cup.  Each  part  of  the  ceremony  has  its 
 appropriate  prayer  with  the  burning  of  incense;   but  a  curtain  drawn  before 
 
392  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  sacristy  veiled  the  whole  from  our  view.  The  time  taken  up  was  long, 
 and  during  it  the  congregation  were  entertained  by  nothing  but  the  mono- 
 tonous chanting  of  a  large  company  of  deacons  and  clerks. 
 
 "At  length  the  Bishop,  leaving  the  elements  behind,  came  forward  with 
 a  pompous  procession  and  the  burning  of  incense,  and  proceeded  in  a  cir- 
 cuitous course  through  the  congregation  to  the  great  altar.  After  a  series  ot 
 prayers,  a  deacon  read  the  lesson  of  the  day  from  the  gospel  and  the  Nicene 
 Creed  ;  and  then,  with  the  whole  body  of  assistants,  went  for  the  elements. 
 They  were  brought  carefully  veiled,  accompanied  by  several  pictures,  and 
 followed  by  a  procession.  The  Bishop,  whose  mitre  had  in  the  meantime 
 been  removed  by  an  assistant,  took  them  and  prayed  :  '  Accept  this  ofter- 
 ing  from  us,  and  perfect  it  for  the  mystery  of  the  body  and  blood  of  Thine 
 only-begotton  Son ;  grant  that  this  bread  and  this  cup  may  be  a  means  of 
 the  remission  of  sin  to  those  w^ho  taste.'  The  congregation  being  in  the 
 meantime  e.Khorted  to  salute  and  kiss  each  other  for  the  appearance  of 
 Christ,  a  deacon,  taking  the  salutation  from  the  Bishop,  went  and  saluted 
 the  Catholicos,  and  from  him  the  ceremony  passed  through  the  whole  con- 
 gregation, each  one  bowing  this  way  and  that  over  the  other's  shoulder,  as 
 if  to  kiss  him. 
 
 "  The  consecration  followed.  In  performing  this,  the  Bishop  blessed 
 the  bread  by  making  over  it  the  sign  of  the  cross,  gave  thanks  by  looking 
 upward,  brake  it  by  picking  out  a  crumb,  and  repeated  the  transubstan- 
 tiating words,  '  Take,  eat,  this  is  my  body,'  lifting  it  at  the  same  time  above 
 his  head  for  the  congregation  to  worship,  instead  of  giving  it  to  them  to 
 eat.  The  ceremony  for  the  wine  was  similar.  The  whole  was  performed 
 privately,  with  tlie  back  of  the  officiator  towards  the  congregation,  and  not 
 a  word  or  sign  intended  for  them  to  hear  or  see,  except  the  elevation  of 
 the  elements.  Prayers  for  the  efficacy  of  the  Mass  to  be  applied  to  the 
 communicants,  to  all  believers,  whether  living  or  dead,  and  especially  to 
 any  for  whom  a  particular  remembrance  had  been  requested,  followed. 
 Then  the  Bishoj:*,  having  first  dipped  the  bread  in  the  wine,  took  it  between 
 the  thumb  and  forefinger  of  each  hand,  and  holding  the  cup  also  between 
 the  palms  of  his  hands  turned  to  the  congregation  and  cried,  '  Holy,  holy, 
 let  us  with  holiness  taste  of  the  honoured  body  and  blood  of  our  Lord  and 
 Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  which,  descending  from  heaven,  is  divided  among  us. 
 This  is  life,  hope,  resurrection,  propitiation,  and  remission  of  sins.'  Turn- 
 ing, he  rejjlaced  the  elements  on  the  altar,  and  a  splendid  curtain,  large 
 enough  to  veil  the  whole  front  of  the  sanctuary,  being  drawn,  prevented  us 
 from  witnessing  what  followed, e.xcept  the  chanting  of  the  assistants  in  a  semi- 
 circle before  the  altar.  But  according  to  the  Canon,  he  had  first  to  break 
 the  bread  into  four  parts,  and  kiss  it  with  weeping  ;  and  then,  after  sundry 
 prayers  and  supplications,  to  eat  the  bread  and  drink  the  wine  with  fear  and 
 trembling,  saying,  'May  Thy  incorruptible  body  be  life  unto  me  and  Thy 
 holy  blood  a  propitiation  and  remission  of  sins.'  The  curtain  being  then 
 withdrawn,  a  deacon  cried,  '  Approach  with  fear  and  faith,  and  with  holi- 
 
THE  ARMENIAN  CHURCH.  393 
 
 ness  commune ' ;  and  as  the  Bishop  turned  round  with  the  elements,  tlie 
 clerks  on  the  part  of  the  people  cried,  '  Our  God  and  our  Lord  has  ap- 
 peared unto  us  ;  blessed  is  he  that  comeih  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.'  Eight 
 or  ten  women  came  forward  and  communed  ;  and  bits  of  unconsecrated 
 bread  were  distributed,  as  is  customary  also  in  the  Greek  Church,  among 
 the  rest  of  the  congregation,  as  they  dispersed." 
 
 The  Armenian  Liturgy  is  immediately  derived  from  the  Greek  Liturgy 
 of  Csesarea  ;  Saint  Gregory  the  Illuminator,  as  we  saw,  was  educated  at 
 Ca^sarea,  and  returned  thither  for  episcopal  ordination  at  the  hands  of  the 
 Greek  bishop,  Leontius.  The  Ca^sarean  Liturgy  immediately  descended 
 from  the  Greek  Liturgy  of  St.  James,  which  was  in  the  main  older,  accord- 
 ing to  Dr.  Ncale,  than  a.d.  200.  From  the  Greek  Liturgy  of  St.  James 
 flowed  also,  but  along  another  line  of  descent,  the  Syriac  Liturgy  of  St. 
 James,  the  archetype  of  the  prayers  offered  up  by  Christians  all  over  Syria 
 and  Mesopotamia.  From  the  Greek  Liturgy  of  Ca^sarea  flowed  beside  the 
 Armenian, — in  part,  at  least,— that  of  St.  Chrysostom,  which  in  the  use  of 
 the  Orthodox  Greek  Church  has  supplanted  all  other  forms  of  divine 
 service. 
 
 The  Armenians  are  by  the  Greek  and  Latin  Churches  esteemed  heretics, 
 because  they  do  not  clearly  distinguish  in  their  Credo  between  the  Divine 
 and  the  human  natures  of  Christ.  The  following  is  the  clause  of  their 
 creed  :  "  We  believe  that  one  of  the  three  Persons,  God  the  Word,  was 
 begotten  of  His  Father  before  all  worlds  :  that  in  time  He  descended  into 
 the  mother  of  God,  the  Virgin  Mary  ;  that  He  took  from  her  blood  and 
 united  it  with  His  Godhead  ;  that  He  abode  nine  months  in  the  womb  of 
 the  most  pure  Virgin  ;  and  that  He  was  perfect  God  and  perfect  man,  in 
 spirit,  in  intellect,  and  in  body  :  one  person,  one  aspect,  and  united  by  one 
 nature."  These  admissions  that  the  Virgin's  human  blood  was  mixed  with 
 the  Godhead,  and  that  all  Christ's  faculties  were  conjoined  in  a  single 
 nature,  and  the  further  article  that  Christ's  body,  conjoined  with  His  God- 
 head, lay  in  the  grave,  constitute  the  heresy  of  Monophysitism.  So  great 
 an  authority,  however,  upon  what  constitutes  orthodoxy,  as  the  late  Dr. 
 Neale,  considers  that  though  the  words  quoted  are  suspicious,  yet  the 
 Armenians  did  not  mean  to  express  an  heretical  thought.  He  is  therefore 
 ready  to  admit  them  within  the  pale  of  orthodox}'. 
 
 The  Armenians,  like  the  Greeks  and  Latins,  have  seven  sacraments. 
 Baptism  involves  trine  immersion  of  the  child,  and  is  immediately  followed 
 by  Confirmation  (or  anointing  all  over  by  the  priest  with  chrism,  or  holy  oil 
 blessed  by  the  bishop)  and  also  by, — what  is  strange  to  us,  though  general 
 in  the  Eastern  Churches, — the  administration  of  the  Eucharist.  The  priest 
 administers  it  by  dipping  his  finger  in  the  chalice  wherein  the  bread  has 
 been  steeped  in  the  wine,  moistening  therewith  the  child's  lips.  Protest- 
 ants commonly  attribute  a  mystical  value  to  Baptism,  and  believe  that  an 
 unbaptized  child  goes  direct  to  hell.  If  Baptism  really  be, — what  it  is  ac- 
 cording to  this  view,— an  opus  opcratitm,  efficacious  towards  the  individual's 
 
394  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 salvation  without  any  accompanying  conscious  spiritual  change  on  his  part, 
 why  should  not  the  chrism  and  consecrated  elements  have  a  similar  effi- 
 cacy ?  Herein  the  Eastern  Churches  are  only  logical ;  and  the  Protestants 
 in  this,  as  in  many  other  points  in  which  they  differ  from  tlie  Christianity 
 of  the  earlier  centuries,  strain  at  a  gnat  after  swallowing  the  camel.  With 
 the  chrism  are  believed  to  descend  on  the  child  the  seven-fold  gifts  of  the 
 Spirit;  and  in  Armenia  a  mere  priest  is  instrumental  to  it,  whereas  in  the 
 ]-]nglish  Church  only  a  bishop,  though  he  is  so,  not  by  anointing  with  oil, 
 but  by  mere  laying  of  his  hands  on  the  young  person's  head. 
 
 The  Eucharist  is,  among  the  Armenians,  given  to  the  laity  in  both  kinds, 
 as  in  the  English  Church.  In  the  Latin,  as  you  know,  sacerdotal  pretension 
 withholds  it  in  one  kind  from  laymen.  The  Armenians  use  pure  wine,  with- 
 out water,  and  steep  the  bread  in  it,  using  unleavened  bread,  where  we  in 
 England  use  ordinary  bread.  The  words  of  institution  "Take,  eat,"'  etc., 
 along  with  an  accompanying  invocation  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  are  believed  to 
 transubstantiate  the  elements.  Penitence  is  another  sacrament;  and  auri- 
 cular confession,  according  to  an  anciently  prescribed  form  and  catalogue 
 of  offences,  is  in  vogue.  Fasting  is  general  and  rigorous  among  Armenians 
 as  among  Greeks,  not  even  eggs,  butter,  milk,  or  cheese  being  allowed 
 during  the  frequent  and  lengthy  fasts.  Ordination  of  priests,  Marriage,  and 
 Extreme  Unction  are  the  remaining  sacraments,  which  are  administered 
 much  as  in  the  Greek  Communion. 
 
 The  Armenian  doctrine  as  to  the  last  judgment  is  based  on  John  v.  28- 
 29  and  Matt.  xxv.  46.  They  pray  for  the  dead,  that  their  sins  may  be 
 remitted,  but  have  no  purgatory  or  system  of  indulgences. 
 
 The  hierarchy  consists  of  bishop,  priest,  and  deacon.  Bishops  are  either 
 archbishojjs,  bishops,  archimandrites,  or  vartabeds,  />.,  doctors.  The  priests 
 who  are  ordained  for  cures  of  souls  must  be  married  when  ordained,  but 
 may  not  marry  a  second  time.  They  dress  in  white,  and  cannot  become 
 vartabeds  or  bishops.  The  higher  clergy — bishops,  vartabeds,  archiman- 
 drites, etc.— dress  in  black,  with  huge  ])eaked  cowls,  and  are  under  vows  of 
 celibacy.  They  live  chiefly  in  monasteries.  The  order  of  vartabeds — 
 teachers — is  noticeable.  They  enjoy  the  episcopal  prerogatives  of  approv- 
 ing of  articles  of  faith,  of  preaching  in  church  (the  ordinary  clergy  cannot 
 preach  in  the  East — only  bishops  do  so),  of  judging  and  deciding  suits  and 
 disputes.  They  are  often  more  learned  than  the  bishops,  who  are  so  left 
 nothing  to  do  but  to  confer  holy  orders.  Galanu.s,  a  A'alican  missionary 
 in  Armenia  of  the  early  seventeenth  century,  remarks,  that  for  the  lay 
 y\rmenian  mind  the  Vartabed  represented  the  person  of  Christ,  who  was 
 called  Rabbi,  or  Master.  He  admits  that  they  had  done  more  than  any 
 other  class  to  keep  alive  Christian  faith  and  learning  among  the  victims  of 
 Ottoman  oppression,  yet  he  condemns  the  institution  as  an  innovation  in 
 the  Church,  and  cjuotes  the  Second  Ejiistle  to  Timothy  iv.  3,  4  against  it  : 
 '•  For  the  time  will  come  when  they  will  not  endure  the  sound  doctrine  ; 
 but  after  their  own  lusts  they  shall  heap  to  themselves  teachers,  having 
 
THE  ARMENIAN  CHURCH. 
 
 J)V3 
 
 itching  ears  ;  and  they  shall  turn  away  their  ears  from  the  truth,  and  bhall 
 turn  aside  unto  fables."  It  is  intelligible  that  even  the  Uniat  monks  of 
 Venice,  though  they  are  in  communion  with  the  Latin  Church,  yet  cherish 
 no  very  friendly  memory  of  this  Vatican  propagandist,  Galanus. 
 
 Tn  the  time  of  the  Crusades  an  unsuccessful  effort  was  already  being 
 made  to  incorporate  the  Armenians  in  the  Latin  Church.  In  the  5th 
 century,  the  Golden  Age  of  Armenian  literature,  not  a  single  Latin  Father 
 of  the  Church  had  been  translated  into  Armenian  ;  but  from  the  time  of  the 
 Crusades  onwards  most  of  the  works  they  translate  at  all  are  translated  from 
 Latin.  Thus  wc  find  the  works  of  St.  Bernard  and  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas 
 and  of  other  mediaeval  schoolmen.  In  1307  the  Catholicos  of  the 
 Armenians  at  the  Council  of  Sis  induced  the  Armenian  King  of  Cilicia  to 
 recognise  the  Pope  ;  and  Boniface  the  VIII.  sent  to  the  king  a  banner  to 
 fight  the  Saracens  withal.  Then  grew  up  a  legend  about  the  Armenian 
 Church  analogous  to  that  of  the  donation  of  Constantine,  representing  that 
 the  earliest  Armenian  and  Georgian  patriarchs  had  received  their  power  of 
 loosing  and  binding  on  earth  from  the  Pope  Sylvester  early  in  the  fourth 
 century.  The  anxiety  of  Rome  to  gain  the  submission  to  herself  of  the 
 Armenian  National  Church  found  expression  in  many  forged  documents,  of 
 which  I  select  the  following  from  (jalanus  as  a  specimen. 
 
 "  Epistle  of  Love  and  Concord  between  Constantine,  Silvester, 
 and  tlridates  ;  translated  at  rome  at  the  asking  of  the 
 Rev.  Lord  Leonard  Akel,  Bishop  of  The  City  of  Sidon. 
 
 "  By  the  will  and  power  of  the  Consubstantial  Holy  Trinity  of  Father 
 incomprehensible,  of  His  only-born  Son,  our  Lord  and  Redeemer  Jesus 
 Christ,  and  our  Liberator  the  Holy  Ghost.  This  is  the  will,  based  on  God 
 and  unchangeable,  indited  by  command  of  Augustus,  the  great  Constan- 
 tine, ever  victorious.  King  of  kings,  Emperor  of  the  world  of  Rome,  and  of 
 the  Romans;  who,  by  power  of  the  true  God  and  glorious  cross,  governs 
 the  entire  world  from  the  limits  of  the-  vast  ocean  to  the  rising  sun.  Also 
 by  the  command  of  the  great  Pontifex  of  the  Romans,  successor  of  Peter 
 and  Paul  and  of  the  Apostles,  holder  of  the  keys  of  heaven,  to  bind  all 
 nations  and  loose  in  heaven,  and  presiding  over  the  whole  Church  of 
 Christ.  Summoned  by  the  Holy  Spirit  the  king  of  the  Armenians 
 Johannes,  called  also  Tiridates,  and  with  him  the  witness  to  Christ  and 
 active  confessor  Grigorius,  illuminator  of  those  in  East  and  North,  our 
 well-loved  brothers  in  Christ,  these  good  friends  of  our  lofty  primacy, 
 most  trustworthy  leaders  and  sharers  of  our  high  counsel — these  have  come 
 hither,  to  behold  our  city  of.  Rome,  mistress  of  the  West  and  East,  in- 
 heritor of  the  holy  and  chief  Apostles,  and  to  visit  their  Vicar  the  venerable 
 Pope,  and  the  glorious  prince  lately  converted  to  the  Christian  faith,  and 
 the  great  Empress  Helena.  Wherefore  with  due  pomp  we  went  out  to 
 meet  the  Lord  of  Ararat  and  his  band  of  compatriots,  and,  having  first 
 interchanged  greetings  with   him,   we  entered  the   Church  of  the   Holy 
 
395  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Apostles  and  adored  their  divine  and  lioly  relics  and  glorified  Christ  who 
 crowns  the  saints." 
 
 Then,  after  solemn  professions  of  alliance  between  the  two  kings  and 
 the  Pope,  (in  these,  the  Armenians  are  confounded  with  the  Turcomans  I ) 
 the  letter  continues  as  follows  : — "I,  Sylvester,  supreme  Pope  of  Rome  and 
 all  the  world,  seeing  that  the  Caesar  Constantine  has  honoured  the  king  of 
 Great  Armenia,  Tiridates,  for  his  power  and  has  glorified  the  race  and  land 
 of  the  Haik,  I  therefore  hastened  to  do  honour  to  the  great  confessor  my 
 colleague  Grigorius.  .  .  .  Wherefore  we  blessed  him  in  the  name  of 
 tlie  Holy  Trinity,  laying  on  his  venerable  head  the  right  hand  of  the  holy 
 Peter  and  the  sacred  linen  Sudarium  (or  kidaris)  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  made 
 him  Patriarch  of  Great  Armenia  and  his  successors  after  him.  And  we 
 ordained  that  the  Patriarch  of  Armenia  lay  hands  also  on  the  Catholicos  of 
 the  land  of  the  Yirk  [i.e.  Georgia)  and  have  power  to  consecrate  and  set 
 bishops  over  those  Armenians  who  are  anywhere  dispersed  among  other 
 Christian  nations.  Let  also  the  land  of  the  Albani  be  under  the  ])ower  ot 
 the  Armenian  Patriarch,  let  the  king  of  the  Albani  nominate  a  Catholicos, 
 and  let  the  Armenian  Patriarch  ordain  him.  .  .  .  Wherefore  'tis  our  high 
 command  that  the  high  priest  of  the  Armenians  have  the  power  of  binding 
 and  loosing  in  heaven  and  on  earth.  Whomsoever  he,  in  accordance  with 
 the  Apostolic  canons,  shall  bless,  let  them  be  blessed  by  Christ  our  Lord, 
 by  the  Holy  Apostles  and  other  saints,  and  by  ourselves,  and  let  those  ex- 
 communicated by  him  remain  in  e.xcommunication  until  they  repent." 
 
 And  let  thus  much  of  this  very  clumsy  forgery  suffice.  It  is  written  in 
 very  bad  and  late  Armenian,  and  seems  the  work  of  a  Latin  impostor,  not 
 wholly  at  home  in  the  Armenian  tongue. 
 
 A  long  line  of  Bishops  at  Nakhitchewan  in  the  Last  of  Armenia  recog- 
 nised the  Pope  throughout  the  INIiddle  Ages ;  and  in  the  seventeenth 
 century  Latin  missionaries  like  the  learned  Galanus  were  active  in  Constan- 
 tinople and  Tiflis  and  even  in  Edschmiazin.  These  missionaries  were 
 supported  and  championed  by  the  French  king ;  for,  needless  to  say,  they 
 met  with  strenuous  resistance  at  the  hands  of  the  orthodox  Armenian 
 Clergy.  In  the  days  of  Louis  XIV.  of  France,  the  Armenian  Patriarch  of 
 Constantinople,  who  was  especially  keen  in  persecuting  those  Armenians 
 wh(j  had  become  Latin  Catholics,  was  kidnapped,  put  on  board  a  French 
 ship,  brought  to  France,  and  incarcerated  in  the  Bastile.  Only  last  year 
 I  happened  in  Paris  to  buy  an  old  Armenian  book  written  by  Galanus 
 which  had  belonged  to  this  Patriarch.  This  is  the  i)lace  to  speak  of  the 
 well-known  Armenian  Convent  at  Venice.  This  convent  was  founded  by 
 one  Mechitar,  who  was  born  near  Erzeroom  in  1676.  As  a  child  his  mind 
 was  shaped  by  Jesuit  missionaries,  and  a  strong  desire  formed  in  him  to 
 see  Rome.  But  he  could  not  get  so  far,  and  was  content  to  set  up  a 
 school  in  Constantinople,  for  the  enlightenment,  secular  and  religious,  of 
 Armenian  boys.  Before  long  he  was  accused  of  Jesuitry  by  the  Armenian 
 Patriarch,  and  banished  from  the  Turkish  Empire  about  the  year  1700. 
 
Tin-:  ARMENIAN  CHURCH.  397 
 
 Tlicn  he  founded  ^w  order  and  monastery  in  the  Venetian  territory  in  the 
 Morea.  But  the  Morea  was  captured  by  the  Turks  in  17 15,  when  Mechi- 
 tar,  by  permission  of  the  Government  of  Venice,  establislied  Iiis  convent  on 
 the  Island  of  San  Lazaro,  where  it  still  exists,  a  goodly  and  well-endowed 
 edifice.  The  literary  activity  of  the  Monks  of  Venice  has  been  admirable  ; 
 tliey  have  compiled  dictionaries  and  grammars  of  their  language  which  are 
 monuments  of  erudition  ;  they  have  printed  in  beautiful  form  all  the  lead- 
 ing classical  works  of  their  ancient  language;  they  have  translated  into 
 modern  Armenian, — which  differs  as  much  from  ancient  as  Italian  from 
 Latin, — all  kinds  of  useful  modern  books,  devotional,  scientific,  historical, 
 and  economic.  Their  versions  of  Western  poets  include  Virgil,  Dante, 
 Milton,  and  Byron  ;  their  leading  idea  has  been  rather  to  raise  and  educate 
 their  compatriots  to  tiie  level  of  Frenchmen  and  Italians,  than  to  pitchfork 
 them  into  the  Roman  Communion.  But  in  the  eyes  of  the  Pope  he  that 
 is  not  with  me  is  against  me,  and  consequently  the  Monks  of  Venice  have 
 had  to  choose  between  the  position  of  enlightened  independence  and  ot 
 thorough  submission  to  the  College  of  the  Propaganda.  On  the  whole, 
 they  have  conformed  with  the  demands  of  the  latter  institution  and  have 
 thereby  forfeited  some  influence  which  they  would  otherwise  have  had 
 among  the  Armenians  of  Russia  and  Turkey.  From  time  to  time  learned 
 members  of  their  congregation  have  even  forsaken  them  and  renewed  their 
 allegiance  to  the  old  Armenian  Church,  because  they  could  not  bring 
 themselves  to  make  so  clear  and  strong  an  avowal  as  the  Pope  required  to 
 be  made  of  the  heresy  of  the  ancestral  Church  of  their  nation.  But  the 
 services  of  the  Monks  of  Venice  to  their  country  can  never  be  either  over- 
 rated or  forgotten.  Without  them  the  Armenian  language  and  literature 
 would  have  remained  unknown  to  the  savants  of  Europe,  and  the  grievances 
 and  oppression  of  their  country  unknown  to  our  historians  and  politicians. 
 Doubtless  in  the  West  the  Roman  influence  has  been  of  a  reactionary  kind, 
 but  in  Armenia  it  has  ever  been  as  a  light  shining  in  the  darkness. 
 
 I  have  now  to  describe  all  too  briefly  a  great  religious  heresy,  or  move- 
 ment in  favour  of  spiritual  freedom  and  enlightenment,  which  had  its  heart 
 and  origin  in  the  south  of  Armenia  in  the  latter  part  of  the  eighth  century, 
 which  spread  from  Armenia  to  Bulgaria  and  thence  to  the  rest  of  Europe, 
 and  did  much  to  determine  the  future  course  of  Christian  life  and  thought. 
 This  movement, — which  counted  its  martyrs  by  hundreds  of  thousands,  and 
 in  destroying  which  in  Asia  Minor  the  orthodox  Armenians  and  the 
 Emperors  of  Constantinople  laid  the  empire  open  to  the  Khaliphs  and 
 paved  the  way  for  Muhammadan  dominion  over  those  regions, — was  known 
 as  the  Paulician  heresy,  and  originated  with  one  Constantine,  an  Armenian 
 of  Mananalis  who  was  born  about  the  middle  of  the  seventh  century,  near 
 Samosata,  not  f^ir  from  Ur  of  the  Chaldees,  whence  went  forth  Abraham 
 to  preach  and  practise  the  faith  of  the  one  true  God.  It  seems  that  a 
 Marcionite  Church  had  survived  in  that  district,  and  Constantine  was 
 doubtless  brought  up  within  it.    A  man  draws  his  religious  opinions  from  his 
 
398  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 surroundings,  and  so,  to  understand  this  heresy,  we  must  know  something  of 
 what  Marcion  held  to  be  true.     His  teaching  was  directed  to  moralize  the 
 familiar   scheme  of  the  creation  and  fall   of  man  and  of  his  redemption 
 through  Jesus  Christ,  as  may  be  gathered  from  the  followjng  account  of  his 
 theology,  drawn  from  the  Armenian  writer  Eznik.    There  are  in  his  system 
 three  primeval  powers  underlying  all  things  :   firstly  a  Divine  Being  who  is 
 all  good,  whom  he  denominates  the  Other  God  ;  secondly  a  Divine  Power 
 j)artly  good,  but  inclining  to  be  bad,  whom  he  calls  the  God  of  the  Law  or 
 of  the  Old  Testament.    There  is  thirdly,  matter,  which  he  impersonates  and 
 rails  by  the  Greek  word  Hulc.    The  two  latter  by  their  union  created  man, 
 matter  yielding  his  body  and  the  God  of  Creation  his  spirit.    Thus  created, 
 man  was  set  in  a  garden,  wherein  the  God  of  the  Law  revealed  to  him  the 
 death  which  hung  over  him  as  over  all  other  creatures.     This  revelation 
 alienated  the  heart  of  the  man  from  the  matter  out  of  which  his  body  was 
 composed.    This  gave  umbrage  to  matter,  who,  to  spite  the  God  of  Creation 
 or  of  the  Law,  invented  a  host  of  idols,  in  worshipping  which  man  altogether 
 forgot  the  God  of  Creation  or  of  the  Law,  who  in  wrath  thereat  cast  him 
 down    into    hell.     Then   the   God   of  Good  and  of  otherness   whom,  in 
 Armenian  phrase,   Marcion    called  Autar,   this    God    who  sat   in   heaven, 
 beholding  so  many  innocent  generations  of  men  lying  in  the  tortures  of 
 hell  through  the  action  of  the  two  deceivers,  namely  the  God  of  the  Law 
 and   matter,  had    pity  upon  them  and  sent   liis   Son   in  tlic  likeness  of  a 
 slave  to  save  them.    His  Son  healed  the  sick  and   sinful,  and   forthwith 
 the  God  of  the  Law  became  envious  of  Him  and  had  Him  crucified  ijy  the 
 children  of  the  Law.     But  after  all,  Christ  did  not  really  die  on  the  Cross, 
 but  only  seemed  to  ;  He  really  remained  alive  and  went  down  into  hell 
 and  let  loose  all  the  poor  pagans  who  had  been  languishing  there  for  ages. 
 Then  He  returned  to  earth  in  His  true  Divine  form  and  confronted  the  God 
 of  the  T^aw  who  had  brought  about    His  crucifixion.     He  proved  that  the 
 God  of  the  Law  ought  to  die  inaccordance  with  his  own  law,  which  says,  "He 
 that  killeth  another  shall  die,  and  lie  that  sheds  another's  blood,  his  blood 
 shall  be  shed."     However  the  God  of  Law  pleaded  that  he  had  not  known 
 that  Christ  was  Divine  ;  and  he  was  acquitted  upon  condition  of  Iiis  abdi- 
 cating and  giving   to  Christ  full   control  over   all  who  believed  in   Him. 
 Thereupon  Christ  appeared  in  a  vision  to  Paul  and  sent  him  forth  to  preacii 
 to  all  nations  how  Christ  has  redeemed  us  and  bought  us  for  a  price. 
 
 From  this  account  of  the  heresy  of  ALu'ciun  we  may  see  how  the  opposi- 
 tion between  the  Jewish  Law  and  the  Gospel,  which  is  already  found  in 
 germ  in  St.  Paul's  Epistles,  was  exaggerated,  until  tin-  God  of  the  Law,  who 
 created  man  and  inspired  the  Old  Testament,  actually  came  to  be  con- 
 trasted as  an  evil  spirit  with  the  God  of  Love,  who  sent  Christ  into  the 
 world.  This  is  an  intensification  of  the  tone  assumed  by  St.  Paul  in  such 
 ])assages  as  the  following,  from  2  Corinthians  iii.  13,  "  Moses  put  a  veil  over 
 his  face,  that  the  children  of  Israel  could  not  steadfixstly  look  to  the  end  of 
 that  which  is  abolished  :  But  their  minds  were  blinded  :  for  until  this  day 
 
THE  ARMENIAN  CHURCH.  399 
 
 remaineth  the  same  veil  untaken  away  in  the  reading  of  the  Old  Testa- 
 ment ;  which  veil  is  done  away  in  Christ.  But  even  unto  this  day,  when 
 Moses  is  read,  the  veil  is  upon  their  heart.  Nevertheless  when  it  shall  turn 
 to  the  Lord,  the  veil  shall  be  taken  away." 
 
 The  seventh  century  was  an  epoch  of  revolt  against  what  is  merely  ex- 
 ternal and  materialistic  in  religion,  and  was  marked  by  the  two  great 
 movements,  both  directed  to  this  end,  of  Muhammadanism  and  Icono- 
 clasm.  Three  centuries  earlier,  in  337  a.d.,  the  Bishop  Eusebius  had  for- 
 bidden images  and  pictures  of  Christ,  on  the  ground  that  no  man  knoweth 
 the  Son  but  the  l'"ather.  Christianity  was  at  that  time  still  engaged  in  an 
 uphill  struggle  against  the  worship  of  idols  ;  and  all  the  apologetic  writers 
 in  attacking  Paganism  laid  great  stress  upon  the  incomprehensibility  of 
 things  Divine.  Their  doctrine  was  like  that  of  Muhammad,  that  there  may 
 not  be  images  made  in  corruptible  matter  of  that  which  eye  hath  not  seen 
 nor  ear  heard.  It  was  in  keeping  with  such  a  tendency  of  thought  that 
 the  Monophysites  held  that  Christ's  human  nature  has  been  swallowed  up 
 and  lost  in  the  Divine  and  transformed  into  an  image  of  glory.  But  in 
 the  interval  between  the  fourth  and  the  seventh  century  Christianity  in  • 
 conquering  Paganism  had  also  imbibed  much  of  its  spirit.  The  old  gods 
 of  Olympus  and  the  demigods  and  heroes  were  only  abolished  in  name  ; 
 the  idols,  and  the  religious  craving  for  visible  gods  which  can  only  console 
 itself  with  idols,  remained,  and  accordingly  the  images  were  re-christened 
 with  names  of  saints  and  confessors,  and  retained.  The  best  and  most 
 clear-sighted  doctors  of  the  Church,  when  they  had  to  apologize  for 
 the  adoration  of  images  and  relics,  could  but  plead  that  they  were 
 requisite  as  a  way  of  instructing  the  illiterate  common  people  in  the 
 Cliristian  religion.  John  of  Odzun,  Armenian  Catholicos  in  716  a.d.,  a 
 fanatical  persecutor  of  the  image-breakers  and  of  the  Paulicians,  could 
 make  no  better  defence  of  the  worship  of  crosses  and  images,  than  that  they 
 represented  beneficent  powers,  while  the  idols  of  the  heathen  had  em- 
 bodied devils.  But  even  he,  though  he  tolerated  and  encouraged  image- 
 worsliip,  was  infected  with  the  spirit  of  the  age,  as  when  he  writes  thus  : 
 "  Bt;ing  in  the  flesh  we  cannot  free  ourselves  from  its  bondage  and  join 
 ourselves  freely  with  the  intelligible,  and  bring  before  ourselves,  face  to 
 face,  the  grandeur  of  the  Creator,  which  is  invisible  even  to  the  cherubim. 
 And  for  ever  our  rational  nature  longs  to  reach  the  Supreme  First  Cause, 
 but  by  reason  of  the  body  loses  its  way  and  is  hampered  among  the 
 sensible?,  and  fails  to  distinguisli  from  them  that  of  which  it  is  in  search." 
 He  writes  as  above  in  e.xplanation  of  the  Pagan  worship  of  idols  ;  but 
 exactly  the  same  criticism  applied  to  the  worship  of  relics  and  images,  and 
 it  was  on  this  very  ground  that  Leo  IIL,  the  Isaurian  (716-741),  assailed 
 the  prevalent  worship  of  images.  Soldiers  were  sent  in  that  and  the 
 succeeding  reigns  to  destroy  images  and  pictures  in  churches  and  shrines, 
 and  in  726  the  great  statue  of  Christ  in  Jerusalem  was  torn  down  and 
 broken    to  pie-res.     The    western  Popes    defended    the  cause    of  image- 
 
400  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 worship,  and  in  731  Pope  Gregory  III.  anathematized  the  iconoclasts. 
 Nevertheless,  in  754,  Constantiiis  Copronymus  succeeded  in  getting  as 
 many  as  338  bishops  to  meet  in  council  and  declare  that  images  of  Christ 
 were  unlawful,  because  since  His  Ascension  the  human  nature  of  Christ  has 
 been  deified  and  is  incomprehensible  and  unpicturable.  In  spite  of  the 
 anathemas  of  the  Popes  of  Rome  and  of  the  enmity  of  the  monks,  the 
 iconoclasts  held  the  field  until  tlie  close  of  the  reign  of  Leo  the  Armenian, 
 842,  when  a  compromise  was  arrived  at  in  all  the  Eastern  Churches,  Greek, 
 Armenian,  and  Coptic  alike  forbidding  actual  statues,  but  allowing  pictures. 
 
 Of  this  iconoclastic  movement  the  Paulicians  were  the  left  and  extreme 
 wing.  Their  tenets  it  is  difficult  to  ascertain  to-day  with  desirable  fulness, 
 for  their  orthodox  oppressors  took  care  that  none  of  their  books  should 
 survive.  The  earliest  writer  who  mentions  them  is  John  of  Odzun,  at  the 
 beginning  of  the  eighth  century;  and  lie  does  not  throw  much  light  on  them 
 by  his  denunciations.  \Sq.  only  gather  that  theirs  was  an  extreme  religious 
 ladicalism,  approaching  to  that  of  our  own  Quakers,  wliich  abhorred  every 
 ceremony  and  rite  which  has  not  a  direct  and  obvious  spiritual  and 
 awakening  power  over  the  hearts  of  the  congregation.  I  have  said  that  in 
 the  Armenian  Church  the  water  in  the  rite  of  Baptism,  the  chrism  in  Con- 
 firmation, and  tlic  bread  and  wine  in  the  Communion  are  believed  to  have 
 a  mystical  efficacy,  apart  from  the  state  of  mind  and  consciousness  of  those 
 who  administer  or  receive  them.  Such  a  belief  was  held  to  be  purely  su- 
 ])erstitious  by  the  Paulicians;  and  they  accordingly,  like  our  Quakers  or  tlie 
 Salvation  Army,  repudiated  the  sacraments  of  the  Church  for  good  and  ever. 
 
 We  learn  more  about  them  from  the  Greek  ortliodox  writers,  Photius, 
 Primate  of  Constantinople  in  the  ninth  century,  and  Petrus  Siculus,  who 
 in  the  same  century  lived  among  them  for  nearly  a  year  in  Tephrike,  in 
 i'ontus,  where  they  had  founded  a  government  of  their  own.  The  mission 
 of  Petrus  was  to  treat  for  the  restoration  to  the  Greek  Emperor  of 
 prisoners  whom  the  Paulicians  had  taken  in  the  course  of  the  religious 
 wars  waged  against  them.  These  writers  inform  us  about  their  tenets, 
 which  may  be  summarized  as  follows  : — 
 
 1.  They  were,  like  the  Persians  and  Manicheans  and  Marcionites, 
 dualists,  and  held  that  underlying  the  universe  are  two  opposed  principles, 
 one  good,  one  evil.  The  evil  god  was  the  creator  of  the  visible  world  of 
 sense ;  the  good  God,  our  Heavenly  Father,  is  creator  of  the  world  to 
 come.  They  reproached  the  orthodox  in  such  words  as  these :  "  You 
 believe  in  the  Creator  of  the  Cosmos  visible  to  the  eye,  but  we  believe  only 
 in  Him  about  whom  in  the  gos])els  the  Lord  says,  "  Ye  have  neither  heard 
 His  voice  nor  beheld  His  form." 
 
 2.  Like  the  Marcionites,  they  believed  that  the  Old  Testament  was 
 written  and  inspired  by  the  evil  spirit,  and  accordingly  they  did  not  read 
 it.  The  prophets,  they  said,  were  robbers  and  liars.  Put  to  tlie  Gospels 
 and  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  they  attached  great  value,  and  laid  much  stress 
 upon  their  versions  of  the  New  'I'estament  being  true  and  accurate  to  the 
 
THE  ARMENIAN  CHURCH.  401 
 
 original,  upholding  even  a  special  order  of  Notaries  to  copy  out  he 
 Scriptures.  There  is  still  preserved  at  Lyons  a  MS.  of  the  New  Testament 
 which  belonged  to  the  Albigensian  sect,  who  were  the  Paulicians  of  South 
 France  in  the  eleventh  to  thirteenth  centuries.  It  is  a  remarkably  accurate 
 version,  far  more  so  than  those  current  among  the  orthodox  Latin  Chris- 
 tians of  the  Middle  Ages.  It  was  all-important  that  every  one  should  read 
 the  New  Testament ;  and  in  illustration  of  this  point  Petrus  Siculus  relates 
 the  following  :  Sergius,  the  great  apostle  of  the  Paulicians  (800-834),  who 
 wrote  several  epistles  to  his  Church,  which  were  included  by  them  in  their 
 canon  of  Holy  Scripture,  was  converted  by  a  woman,  who  asked  him, 
 "  Why  do  you  not  read  the  Divine  Gospels?  "  He  answered,  "  It  is  not 
 permitted  to  us  laymen  to  read  them,  but  only  to  the  priests."  She 
 answered,  "  It  is  not  so  as  thou  supposest.  For  with  God  there  is  no 
 respecting  of  persons  ;  the  Lord  desires  that  all  be  saved  and  come  to 
 the  knowledge  of  the  truth."  Here  we  see  how  nearly  these  Paulicians 
 were  the  forerunners  of  European  Protestantism.  The  Armenian  and 
 Greek  Church  never  explicitly  forbade  laymen  to  read  the  Bible,  and  it  is 
 only  the  Pope  who  has  put  the  New  Testament  on  the  Index  Expurga- 
 torius.  But  although  to-day  it  is  free  to  any  Greek  or  Armenian  to  read 
 the  Bible  if  he  can,  we  may  be  sure  that  in  the  eighth  and  ninth  centuries 
 it  was  reserved  to  the  priests  only  to  do  so.  They  alone  would  have  had 
 copies  of  it  in  their  monasteries,  and  made  them  objects  rather  of  super- 
 stitious reverence  than  of  popular  instruction. 
 
 It  was  the  great  stress  laid  on  St.  Paul's  epistles  that  led  the  sect  to  call 
 themselves  Paulicians.  Their  teachers  nicknamed  themselves  from  Paul's 
 epistles,  e.g.,  Constantine,  founder  of  the  heresy,  called  himself  Sylvanus  ; 
 and  the  various  chief  congregations  were  called  after  the  Churches  St.  Paul 
 founded,  as  Macedonia,  Colossians,  etc.  The  epistles  of  Peter,  who 
 (luarrelled  with  Paul  and  upheld  tiie  Jewish  law,  they  rejected  from  their 
 canon  of  the  New  Testament. 
 
 3.  They  rejected  Mariolatry.  The  Virgin  was  no  more  than  a  conduit 
 pipe  through  which  the  phantasm  of  Christ's  body  came  into  the  world. 
 She  was  an  ordinary  woman  in  other  respects,  and  bore  other  children  after 
 Jesus  was  born.  Prayer  and  hymn  to  her  they  held  to  be  utterly  wrong 
 and  objectionable.  The  Church  of  Heaven  is  the  true  mother  of  us  ail, 
 the  heavenly  Jerusalem.  The  enormity  of  such  heresy  in  the  East  can 
 only  be  appreciated  by  one  who  has  entered  Eastern  or  Romish  Churches 
 and  seen  how  preponderating  a  share  of  popular  reverence  the  Virgin  Mary 
 receives.     This  therefore  is  another  approximation  to  Protestantism. 
 
 4.  Christ's  body  was  only  phantasmal,  for  matter  is  devilish  and  the 
 Divine  Spirit  could  not  really  have  been  confined  in  it ;  cp.  Marcion. 
 Christ,  they  said,  entered  the  kingdom  of  matter  to  reveal  to  us  the  in- 
 visible God  and  rescue  us  from  the  thraldom  of  matter  and  of  the  Evil 
 One.     Redemption  is  recovery  of  spiritual  freedom  and  union  with  God. 
 
 5.  They  rejected,  like   the  Protestants,  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Eucharist, 
 VOL.  I.  —  pt.  2.  E  E 
 
402  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 and  denied  that  we  really  partake  of  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ.  They 
 even  denied  that  it  was  real  bread  and  wine  which  Christ  gave  Ilia 
 disciples.  He  was  only  symbolizing  by  His  words  and  speaking  in  alle- 
 gory. The  Sacrament  of  Baptism  was  rejected  in  the  same  way.  The 
 water  was  a  mere  symbol  of  the  Divine  Word  which  cleanses  the  soul.  "  I 
 am  the  living  water,"  was  their  favourite  text. 
 
 6.  The  worship  of  the  cross  they  likewise  condemned.  It  was  "  the 
 accursed  tree,'"'  mere  wood.  The  true  cross,  they  said,  is  the  attitude  of 
 ]irayer.  They  denied  that  consecrated  crosses  have  a  healing  and  vivify- 
 ing power  and  virtue,  such  as  was  attributed  to  them. 
 
 7.  No  priests,  where  no  sacraments.  Every  one  was  his  own  priest. 
 They  had  only  itinerant  preachers — Sunecdenii,  as  St.  I'aul  called  them — 
 and  their  spirit  is  preserved  to  us  in  the  one  solitary  fragment  preserved  to 
 us  of  the  I'^pistles  of  Sergius.  It  might  have  been  penned  by  ^\'esley,  and 
 runs  thus  :  "  I  have  run  from  East  to  West,  and  from  North  to  South,  till 
 my  knees  are  weary,  preaching  the  Gospel  of  Christ."  These  preachers  had 
 to  dress  like  every  one  else,  and  were  called  pastors  or  teachers.  No  pre- 
 caution, we  see,  was  omitted  against  sacerdotalism. 
 
 9.  In  spite  of  the  abuse  of  their  orthodox  oppressors,  we  know  that  a 
 high  moral  ideal  informed  the  daily  life  and  homes  of  these  .Armenian 
 heretics.  They  resembled  our  own  Quakers,  and  based  their  lives  on  the 
 Gospel,  without  being  rigid  or  ascetic.  "  Their  sober  morality  was  not  de- 
 pendent on  fasts,  or  feasts,  or  sacraments."^  Politically  they  seem  to  have 
 been  nationalists,  and  opposed  to  extension  of  any  alien  power  over 
 Armenia.  They  called  the  Orthodox  Greek  Christians,  by  way  of  oppro- 
 brium, Romans,  and  denied  that  they  were  Christians  at  all. 
 
 10.  It  remains  to  notice  their  missionary  efforts  in  Thessaly.  Like 
 other  Armenians,  they  were  for  that  age  honest  traders  and  workmen,  and 
 brave  soldiers.  Petrus  Siculus  relates  how  he  heard  in  Te|)hrike  that  they 
 were  sending  missionaries  to  Bulgaria  to  seduce  the  Orthodox  to  their  own 
 damned  heresy,  and  adds  that  these  miscreants  boldly  underwent  all  toils 
 and  dangers  in  order  to  disseminate  their  doctrines.  They  were  clearly 
 animated  by  a  missionary  zeal  rare  among  the  Eastern  Christians  of  to-day. 
 
 If  the  Greek  Emperors  had  been  wise,  they  would  have  protected  these 
 brave  and  honest  heretics,  and  used  them  as  a  bulwark  against  encroach- 
 ments of  the  Khaliphs.  But  the  only  idea  was  to  harry  and  burn  them  alive. 
 In  .\.D.  752  colonies  of  them  were  removed  from  Armenia,  and  planted  by 
 the  Emperor  of  Constantinople  in  Bu]L;aria  as  a  barrier  against  Bulgarians 
 and  Sclavonians.  The  subject  is  obscure  from  want  of  authorities  ;  but  it 
 is  certain  that  the.se  Armenian  colonists  diffused  their  Paulician  tenets  on 
 such  a  scale  that  during  succeeding  centuries  the  history  of  Bulgaria  became 
 the  history  of  Paulicianism,  only  under  the  name  of  Bogomiiism,  which  is 
 Slavonic  fur  the  cult  of  the  lovers  of  Ciod.  In  the  years  Si 3-820  the  Paul 
 icians  in  .Armenia  were  terribly  jjcrseculcd  by  a  countryman  of  their  own — 
 '  From  .iriiclc  on  raulicians  in  "  Dictionary  of  Christian  Biograpliy.  " 
 
THE   ARMEXIAN  CHURCH.  403 
 
 Leo  the  Armenian,  Emperor  of  Constantinople.  Soon  afterwards  Theodora 
 the  empress,  in  her  reign  between  842-857,  impaled  and  beheaded  as  many 
 as  100,000.  At  last  these  naturally  peaceful  heretics  were  goaded  by 
 cruelty  into  revolt.  They  chose  apt  leaders,  allied  themselves  with  the 
 Khaliphs,  and  overran  all  Asia  Minor.  In  the  mountains  near  Trebizond 
 they  even  established  a  republic  of  their  own,  and  fortified  Tephrike,  their 
 chief  centre.  In  969  a  second  colony  of  them  was  transported  by  the  Greek 
 Emperor  Zimiscas  to  Philippopolis.  Crushed  out  in  Armenia,  the  heresy 
 took  firm  root  among  the  Bulgarians,  then  in  the  act  of  receiving  Christi- 
 anity. There  is  ground  for  supposing  that  the  Glagolitic  alphabet  in  which 
 the  earliest  Sclavonic  works  were  written,  is  based  on  the  Armenian  letters 
 or  on  the  cognate  Georgian  characters,  which  latter  may  well  have  been 
 used  in  Tephrike,  the  centre  of  the  Paulician  missionaries.  I  believe  that 
 much  of  die  old  Bulgarian  literature,  especially  the  legenlary  religious  lore 
 which  circulated  unsanctioned  by  the  Orthodox  Greek  Church  among  the 
 common  people,  was  translated  from  Armenian  and  Georgian.  It  is  in  old 
 Bulgarian  books  that  scholars  must  look  for  versions  of  the  epistles  of 
 Sergiiis,  the  great  Paulician  teacher,  and  for  a  mass  of  Marcionite  writings 
 which  the  zeal  of  the  Orthodox  has  elsewhere  destroyed.  This  hypothesis 
 of  a  connection  of  early  Bulgarian  literature  with  Armenian  is  antecedently 
 so  probable  that  it  is  worth  testing.  Many  of  the  old  apocryphs  which  circu- 
 lated among  the  South  Slavs  are  still  preserved  in  Armenian,  e.g..  The  Book 
 of  Asenath, — Vision  of  Enoch,— Will  of  Twelve  Patriarchs, — Letter  of 
 King  Abgar  to  Jesus  Christ, — Letter  of  Pontius  Pilate  to  Tiberios, — Vision 
 of  Methodios  (?  of  Patara),— History  of  Adam  and  Eve  and  of  How  They 
 Were  Created, — Progress  of  the  Mother  of  God  through  Hell  (in  Armenian 
 title  is  :  "  Vision  of  the  All-holy  Mother  of  God,  which  she  saw  in  Hell,  of 
 the  Tortures  of  the  Wicked,"  etc.),— Revelation  of  Abraham  (Armenian  title : 
 "  History  of  Holy  Confessor  and  Mystic  Abraham  "), — History  of  the  Baby- 
 lonian Kingdom  and  of  the  Three  Children  '  (Armenian  title  :  "History  of 
 the  Prophet  Daniel,  and  Liberation  of  Shushan  from  the  Condemnation  of 
 the  Lawless  Senate  and  Unjust  Murder  ;  also  of  the  Three  Children, 
 Ananias,  Azariah  and  Misaieli,  and  of  the  Terrible  Vision  of  the  King  ')  ; 
 this  is  unknown  in  Greek, — Gospel  of  Nicodemus, —  Martyrdom  of  the 
 Soldier  Georgius, — Life  and  Miracles  of  St.  Nicolaus, — History  of  the  Magi 
 who  Came  to  Salute  Christ, — Questions  of  St.  John  put  to  Christ  on  Mount 
 Tabor  (Armenian  title  :  "  On  Transfiguration  of  our  Lord  on  Tabor."' 
 The  identity  of  the  Armenian  tract,  which  seems  to  be  a  translation  of 
 Chrysostom,  with  the  Bulgarian  is  doubtful), — About  the  Devil  which 
 appeared  in  Wolf's  Form,— The  History  of  Gog  and  Magog, — The  Story 
 of  Barlaam  and  Josephat, — Repentance  of  Adam, — History  of  Alexander, 
 
 '  Pypin  and  Spasovic  so  give  the  title:  Geschichte  der  Slavischen  Lit.,  vol.  i.,  p. 
 102.  In  "  Archiv  fiir  Slavische  Philologie,"  band  2.  p.  129,  A.  Wesselofsky  gives  an 
 accounl  of  the  Slavonic  saga  Vom  Babylonischen  Reich,  which  seems  another  apogrypli 
 to  the  Armenian  here  mentioned,  which  however  agrees  in  title  with  that  which  Pypin 
 mentions. 
 
404  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 etc.  All,  or  nearly  all,  the  apocryphal  writings  which  exist  in  old  Bulgarian 
 circulated  also  in  Greek  in  the  Middle  Ages  ;  and  without  a  comparison  ot 
 them  in  their  Bulgarian  form  with  the  Armenian,  it  is  not  safe  to  say  that 
 they  were  translated  from  Armenian  rather  than  from  Greek.  I  throw  it 
 out  merely  as  a  suggestion  of  what  is  historically  possible  and  probable. 
 
 The  Paulician  doctrines  were  carried  from  Bulgaria  all  over  Europe,  but 
 especially  to  the  North  of  Italy  and  the  South  of  France,  where  they  were 
 known  as  the  Albigensian  heresy.  The  sect  of  Cathari — whence  the 
 (German  word  Ketzer  (heretic) — were  akin  to  them.  It  is  beyond  my 
 limits  to  follow  the  movement  in.  Western  Europe,  and  detail  the  awful 
 ])ersecutions  to  which  the  Albigeois  were  subjected  by  the  Roman  Inipii- 
 sition.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  in  Western  Europe  they  were  the  mediaeval 
 precursors  of  the  Reformation  ;  and  it  is  therefore  through  their  Quaker-like 
 heresies,  which  have  not  survived,  rather  than  through  their  orthodox 
 Church,  which  has,  that  the  Armenians  have  contributed  in  a  marked 
 anil  permanent  manner  to  the  spiritual  life  of  Northern  Europe.  It  is 
 equally  remarkable  that  Bulgaria — the  ancient  Thrace — through  which 
 Paulicianism — the  characteristic  heresy  of  a  hardy  race  of  mountaineers, 
 such  as  were  the  Armenians — should  be  the  very  country  from  which, 
 according  to  Strabo  and  other  ancient  authorities,  the  Armenians  originally 
 migrated  to  the  mountain  ramparts  of  Asia  Minor.  One  is  tempted  to 
 believe  that  down  through  the  centuries  there  had  lingered  in  the  Balkan 
 highlands  a  substratum  of  kindred  folk,  to  admixture  with  whom  the  Bul- 
 garian invaders  owed  the  facility  with  which  they  sympathized  with  and 
 adopted  the  religious  radicalism  of  Constantine  and  Sarkis.  In  spite  of 
 centuries  of  political  oppression  on  the  part  of  the  Turks  and  of  religious 
 oppression  on  the  part  of  the  Greeks,  we  have  seen  the  Bulgarians  in  the 
 last  few  years  reclaim  and  win  back  their  liberties  in  both  kinds.  Today 
 they  are  making  sure  their  political  independence  as  an  European  State, 
 and  at  the  same  time  have  attracted  the  anathemas  of  the  Greek  Patriarch 
 of  Constantinople,  because  they  are  determined  to  manage  their  religious 
 affairs  fur  themselves.  May  we  hope  that,  as  the  Armenians  long  ago  won 
 the  anathemas  of  the  Orthodox  Greek  Church,  so  they  may  ere  long  be  able 
 to  liberate  themselves  from  the  bliiihting  curse  of  Ottoman  misgovernment. 
 
THE    ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC    EASTERN 
 
 CHURCH, 
 
 COMMONLY  CALLED  THE  GREEK  CHURCH. 
 Bv  N.  Orloff,  M.A. 
 
 L — Gknerai,  Sketch. 
 The    subject  of  my   present    lecture   is   the    Orthodox-Catholic    Eastern 
 Church,  commonly  called  the  Creek  Church;  and  the  following  eloquent 
 sum  miry  of  the  present  status  of  the  Church  is  to  be  found  in  the  pages 
 of  one  of  her  latest  English  historians,  Dr.  Neale  : — 
 
 "  Extending  herself  from  the  Sea  of  Okhotsk  to  the  palaces  of  Venice, 
 from  the  ice-fields  that  grind  against  the  Solovetsky  monastery  to  the 
 burning  jungles  of  Malabar — embracing  a  thousand  languages  and  nations 
 and  tongues,  but  binding  them  together  in  the  golden  link  of  the  same 
 faith — offering  the  tremendous  sacrifice  in  a  hundred  liturgies,  but  offer- 
 ing it  to  the  same  God,  and  with  the  same  rites — fixing  her  patriarchal 
 thrones  in  the  same  cities  as  when  the  disciples  were  called  Christians, 
 first  at  Antioch,  and  James,  the  brother  of  our  Lord,  finished  his  course  at 
 Jerusalem — oppressed  by  the  devotees  of  the  false  prophet  as  once  by 
 tiie  worshippers  of  false  gods — she  is  now  as  she  was  from  the  beginning, 
 nmltiplex  in  her  arrangements,  simple  in  her  faith,  difticult  of  comjjre- 
 hension  to  strangers,  easily  intelligible  to  her  sons,  widely  scatteretl  in  her 
 branches,  hardly  beset  by  her  enemies,  as  were  her  Divine  founders,  yet 
 still  and  evermore  what  she  delights  to  call  herself — One  only,  Holy, 
 Catholic  and  Apostolic." 
 
 In  early  times  and,  as  it  would  now  seem,  for  ever  past,  the  same 
 Church  embraced  the  whole  of  the  west  of  the  then  known  world  ; 
 but  in  those  times  even  the  popes  thought  and  wrote  that  many  of  the 
 Roman  pontiffs  were  heretics  (Pope  Hadrian  VL,  "Dictates  on  the 
 Fourth  Book  of  the  Sentences "),  and  that  "  in  matters  of  faith  an 
 obscure  layman  had  just  as  equal  a  voice  as  the  highest  officer  in  the 
 Church "  (Nicolas  L,  in  his  letter  to  Piiotius,  Patriarch  of  Constanti- 
 nople), inasmuch  as  the  definition  or  determination  of  that  faith  does  not 
 depend  on  individuals,  however  exalted,  nor  on  any  number  of  them, 
 however  large,  but  on  the  Church  as  a  whole.  In  those  remote  times  the 
 leaven  of  rationalism  was  not  permitted  to  penetrate  the  united  fold  of 
 Christ,  and  the  first  attempts  to  foist  erroneous  teaching  of  a  local  Church 
 on  the  whole  body  were  nipped  in  the  bud  by  Pope  Leo  HI.,  who  caused 
 the  creed  in  its  original,  and  the  only  acknowledged  and  permissible 
 form,  to  be  engraved  on  the  tablets  of  silver.  The  poison,  however,  was 
 not  expelled,  and  the  gangrene  spread  with  such  rapidity  that  soon  Rome 
 
 4^>5 
 
4o6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 lierself  had  changed  front,  lending  her,  even  at  that  time  powerful,  in- 
 fluence to  the  propagation  of  the  error.  Just  one  thousand  years  have 
 pissed  since,  and  now,  in  consequence  of  the  continuous  working  of  that 
 leaven,  one  ])art  of  the  West  is  come  to  the  deification  of  one  man  at 
 the  head  of  the  community  (Roman  Catholics);  another  to  well-nigh  the 
 same  deification  of  every  individual  (Protestants),  although  neither  have 
 dared  openly  to  repudiate  Christ;  a  third  — more  logical— is  rejecting 
 Christ  altogether  (Unitarians);  and  in  the  remainder  utter  scepticism  and 
 unbelief  prevail — no  wonder  that'  "standing  fast"  on  the  part  of  the 
 Church  by  that  which  was  entrusted  to  her  from  the  beginning  becomes 
 utterly  unintelHgible  to  the  Western  mind,  that  her  steadfastness  is  looked 
 \i\)0\\  here  as  petrifaction,  and  the  old  teaching  and  the  once  common 
 faith  is  accounted  as  ditficult  of  comprehension.  ...  It  will  be  my 
 endeavour  this  afternoon  to  do  my  best  to  make  intelligible  to  you  the 
 guiding  spirit  and  the  first  principles  of  the  Church  of  which  I  aspire  to 
 the  happiness  of  being  an  unworthy  member. 
 
 What  is  Church?  In  a  very  respectable  work,  that  mine  of  every 
 student  of  Scripture,  whicli  is  called,  "  A  Complete  Concordance  of  the 
 Old  and  New  Testament,  by  Alexander  Cruden,  M..A.,"  of  which  some  of 
 you  may  have  heard,  "Body"  is  said  to  signify  "the  Church  of  God 
 tirmly  united  to  Christ  and  among  themselves,  by  the  Spirit,  faith,  love, 
 sacraments,  word,  and  ministry,  which,  like  the  veins  and  arteries  in  the 
 body,  serve  to  join  them  with  Christ,  and  among  tliemselves,  and  also  to 
 convey  influence  and  nourishment  from  the  head  to  every  particular 
 member  of  this  mystical  body."  What  would  strike  an  orthodox  Christian 
 in  this,  otherwise  remarkable  and  admirable  definition,  is  the  rather  formal 
 and  dialectic  way  in  which  the  ties  that  hold  the  body  together  are  frac- 
 tionized  and  multiplied.  In  the  quotations  given  by  the  author — viz., 
 those  of  I  Cor.  x.  17,  Eph.  iv.  16,  and  Col.  i.  18 — of  all  the  six  love  only 
 is  mentioned.  Now,  in  tlic  12th  chapter  of  ist  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians, 
 tlie  subject  of  the  working  of  parts  in  one  body  is  more  fully  and  clearly 
 set  forth.  Thence  it  appears  perfectly  evident  that  the  Church  must  be 
 an  organism,  a  living  body,  that  her  members  arc  firmly  knit  together 
 and  work  harmoniously,  that  there  should  be  no  schism  in  the  body. 
 The  eye  cannot  say  to  "  the  hand,  I  have  no  need  of  thee  :  or  again  the 
 head  to  the  feet,  I  have  no  need  of  you.  Nay,  much  rather,  those  mem- 
 bers of  the  body,  which  seem  to  be  more  feeble,  are  necessary  :  and  those 
 parts  of  the  body,  which  we  think  to  be  less  honourable,  upon  these  we 
 bestow  more  abundant  honour.  .  .  .  God  tempered  the  body  to- 
 gether, giving  more  abundant  honour  to  that  part  which  lacked  . 
 that  the  members  siiould  have  the  same  care  one  for  another.  And 
 whether  one  member  sufTereth,  all  llic  members  suffer  wiili  it  ;  or  one 
 member  is  honoured,  all  the  members  rejoice  with  it"  (i  Cor.  xii.  21-26). 
 It  must  be  admitted  that  it  was  not  a  mere  similitude  when  Christ,  after 
 the  very  last  supper  on  earth  with    His  disciples,  spoke  to  them  as  follows 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  407 
 
 (John  XV.  1-6):  "  I  am  the  true  vine,  and  My  Father  is  the  husbandman. 
 Every  branch  in  Me  that  beareth  not  fruit,  He  taketh  it  away  ;  and  every 
 branch  that  beareth  fruit,  He  cleanseth  it,  that  it  may  bear  more  fruit. 
 Already  ye  are  clean  because  of  the  word  which  I  have  spoken  unto  you. 
 
 .  ,  Abide  in  Me,  and  I  in  you.  As  the  branch  cannot  bear  fruit  of 
 itself,  except  it  abide  in  the  vine  ;  so  neither  can  ye,  except  ye  abide  in  Me. 
 I  am  the  vine,  ye  are  the  branches  :  he  that  abideth  in  Me,  and  I  in 
 liim,  the  same  beareth  much  fruit  :  for  apart  from  Me  ye  can  do  nothing. 
 If  a  man  abide  not  in  Me,  he  is  cast  forth  as  a  branch,  and  is  withered." 
 The  only  indisjjensable  condition  of  abiding  in  that  heavenly  vine  and 
 Christ's  only  commandment  is,  "to  love  one  another"  even  as  He  had 
 loved  us  ;  viz.,  in  very  deeds,  not  "  words,"  for  He  directly  adds,  "greater 
 love  halh  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friends." 
 'I  he  same  was  to  be  the  distinguishing  feature  of  Christ's  followers  :  "  By 
 this  shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are  My  disciples,  if  ye  have  love  one  to 
 another"  (John  xiii.  35). 
 
 Therefore  the  one  efficient  and  effectual  tie  that  unites  the  body  to- 
 gether is  love.^  No  wonder  that  St.  Paul  so  rapturously,  but  again  not  in 
 a  mere  figure  of  speech,  writes  of  love  :  "  If  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of 
 men  and  of  angels,  but  have  not  love,  I  am  become  sounding  brass,  or  a 
 clanging  cymbal.  And  if  I  have  the  gift  of  prophecy,  and  know  all 
 mysteries,  and  all  knowledge  ;  and  if  I  have  all  faith,  so  as  to  remove 
 mountains,  but  have  not  love,  I  am  nothing.  .  .  .  Love  vaunteth  not 
 itself,  is  not  puffed  u[)  .  .  .  seeketh  not  its  own  .  .  .  bearetli 
 all  things,  believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth  all  things. 
 Love  never  faileth"  (i  Cor.  xiii.  r,  2,  4,  7,  8). 
 
 Thus  we  distinguish  in  this  living,  spiritual  organism  :  i.  Christ — the 
 Head  of  whom  St.  Peter,  almost  on  the  very  day  when  this  body  of  Christ 
 was  sealed  by  the  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  was  to  abide  in  it 
 for  ever,  testified,  under  the  inspiration  from  the  same,  that  "there  is  no 
 other  name  under  heaven  that  is  given  among  men  wherein  we  must  be 
 saved"  (Acts  iv.  12);  2.  The  Spirit  of  God,  even  the  life-giving  Spirit  of 
 truth,  that  animates  and  guides  it,  of  whom  St.  Paul  testified,  "all  the  gifts 
 (even  faith)  worketh  the  one  and  the  same  Spirit  "  (i  Cor.  xii.  9,  iil  ;  and 
 3.  The  members,  free  rational  beings,  their  mutual  tie  being  the  never 
 failing,  never-ending  love. 
 
 The  innermost,  closest  union  of  this  spiritual  organism,  as  indeed  every- 
 thing appertaining  to  God's  mysteries,  can  be  a  matter  of  faith  only  ;  - 
 but  it  follows  from  the  above  that — 
 
 '  I  do  not  by  any  manner  of  means  intend  to  assert  that  there  should  be  neither  faith 
 nor  sacraments,  neither  word  nor  ministry  ;  but  all  these  are  of  a  temporary  character. 
 There  will  be  time  when  we  shall  see  face  to  face.  Shall  we  then  love  the  less  and  cease 
 to  be  members  ? 
 
 -  Faith  is  always  the  result  of  a  revelation  known  and  recognised  as  such.  It  is  the 
 contemplation  of  an  invisible  fact  as  manifested  in  a  visible  form.  It  is  not  a  mere  belief 
 or  logical  conviction,  based  on  deductions,  but  it  is  something  far  higher.      It  is  not   an 
 
4o8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 1.  The  Church  must  be  one,  and  can  be  but  only  one,  embracing  the 
 whole  human  race,  whether  those  who  have  already  finished  their  earthly 
 course,  those  still  fighting  for  their  freedom  and  truth  in  Christ,  or  yet  to 
 be  born.  Therefore  she  is  invisible  even  as  far  as  the  inner  working  of 
 the  Si)irit  is  concerned,  and  yet  cannot  but  be  visible  and  observable  in 
 that  mutual  tie  which  Jesus  called  the  distinguishing  trait  of  a  Christian, 
 viz.,  love  and  its  manifestations  in  common  creed  and  liturgy, 
 
 2.  She  must  also  be  holy,  on  account  of  her  only  Head  and  animating 
 and  all-permeating  Spirit,  and  yet  in  her  particular  members  admit  of  all 
 the  imperfections  inherent  in  an  earthly  human  being,  their  perfection  not 
 depending  on  individual  exertions,  and  being  in  direct  ratio  to  the  degree 
 of  their  unity  with  the  whole. 
 
 3.  Further,  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  must  have  been  revealed  to  her 
 from  the  beginning  in  its  entirety,  and  can  never  differ,  as  Jesus  Christ 
 Himself  is  for  ever  the  same,  and  God  the  Spirit  takes  of  Christ  and 
 speaks  only  what  things  soever  He  hears  (John  xvi.  13). 
 
 4.  Therefore,  lastly,  she  must  contain  the  plenitude  of  all  grace,  suffi- 
 cient not  only  for  her  purposes  of  saving  souls  and  perfecting  mankind, 
 but  also  for  preservation  of  the  revealed  truth,  pure,  inviolable,  and  entire, 
 through  all  generations,  as  light,  as  standard,  as  judgment,  so  that  she 
 can  really  be  the  pillar  and  ground  of  the  truth  (i  Tim.  iii.  15), 
 
 Now  all  these — viz.,  the  oneness,  holiness,  catholicity,  and  apostolicity 
 — are  claimed,  as  Dr.  Neale  informs  us,  by  the  Orthodox-Catholic  Eastern 
 Church  ;  and  with  your  permission  and  indulgence  I  propose  to  enter 
 into  some  details  with  regard  to  these  four  heads,  so  as  to  enable  you  to 
 see  what  she  understands  under  these  terms. 
 
 I.  The  unity  must  be  real  and  organic,  compatible  with  perfect  freedom 
 and  true  life,  not  merely  outward  and  mechanic,  tantamount  to  inanity 
 and  death.  A  grain  of  sand  does  not  become  a  new  being  from  the 
 immensity  of  like  grains,  just  as  a  brick  put  in  the  wall  does  not  get 
 changed  or  improved  by  the  place  assigned  to  it  by  the  stone-mason  ;  but 
 every  atom  assimilated  by  a  living  organism  becomes  an  inalienable  i)art 
 of  that  organism,  and  itself  thus  accjuires  new  meaning,  obtains  new  life. 
 '•  Let  us  love  one  another  that  with  one  mouth  we  may  confess,"  our 
 Church  calls  on  us  in  her  liturgy,  and  that  is  her  motto  !  Just  as  Christ 
 Himself  did  not  remain  on  earth  to  influence  by  His  mert;  person  and 
 presence,  but  left  the  formation  of  another  spiritual  body  for  Himself  to 
 the  spiritual  agency  of  another,  the  Comforter,  so  our  Church  does  not 
 erect,  as  kingdoms  of  this  world  arc  apt  to  and  actually  do  erect,  a  visible 
 standard  of  unity  in  the  shape  of  a  man,  however  exalted,  or  a  book,  how- 
 ever sacred,  proclaiming  that  to  recognise  these  is  all-sufficient  for  unity, 
 
 act  of  comprehensive  faculty  separated  from  the  others,  but  it  is  an  act  of  all  the  faculties 
 of  mind  captivated  and  enrajitured  in  the  highest  degree  iiy  the  living  truth  of  a  revealed 
 fact.  Faith  is  not  thought  or  felt  oi)ly.  liut  is,  so  to  speak,  thought  and  felt  together  ; 
 in  fine,  it  is  n  it  mere  knowledge,  but  knowledge  and  life. 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  409 
 
 however  much  one  may  be  at  variance  in  his  views  on  other  points,  or 
 however  differently  he  may  understand  the  book.  She  could  never  give 
 her  consent  to  the  violation  of  the  freedom  of  conscience,  or  ever  think  of 
 an  Inquisition  ;  no  Bartholomew-night  can  be  discovered  on  the  pages  of 
 her  history;  neither  would  she  entertain  an  idea  of  uniat  Churches,  or 
 encompass  sea  and  land  just  to  be  able  to  say  only  that  there  is  one  more 
 proselyte  found.  She  is  one  body  and  one  soul.  The  oneness  must  of 
 course  show  itself  outwardly  in  manifestations  of  the  principle  of  unity, 
 and  does  so  not  in  one  tongue,  but  in  dogmas  confessed  in  a  thousand 
 tongues  by  the  whole  body,  in  sacraments  recognised  and  held  by  all,  even 
 in  rites,  as  these  are  but  an  expression  of  a  relation  of  the  community  to 
 the  dogmas  confessed  by  all.  No  branch  of  our  Church,  however  large  or 
 distinguished,  ever  undertakes  anything  of  importance,  or  introduces  any- 
 thing new,  without  first  consulting  and  obtaining  consent  of  other  branches. 
 Witness  the  whole  history,  beginning  with  the  question  of  the  date  of  the 
 Paschal  festival,  throughout  the  era  of  councils,  and  down  to  the  present 
 time.  Therefore  the  Greek  Church  does  not  know  of  a  Church  in  the 
 Church;  viz.,  a  teaching  Church  of  pastors  and  a  Church  of  sheep.^  I 
 do  not  mean  to  say  that  there  is  with  us  no  distinction  between  clergy — 
 viz.,  those  who  are  called  to  devote  themselves  entirely  to  the  stewardship 
 of  Cod's  mysteries  (i  Cor.  iv.  i) — and  laity,  but  the  one  does  not  say  to 
 the  other,  "  I  have  no  need  of  thee."  "  A  Bishop  is  at  one  and  the  same 
 time  both  the  instructor  of,  and  instructed  by,  his  flock  "  (Bishop,  after 
 wards  Metropolitan  Innocent).  In  matters  of  faith  Patriarchs  may  be,  and 
 actually  some  were  heretical,  and  may  be  corrected  by  mere  laymen.  In- 
 deed, it  is  rationalism  pure  and  simple  not  to  recognise  any  other  way  of 
 teaching  besides  that  by  word.  The  latter  alone  does  not  teach  ;  it  is 
 .'ife  that  instructs  more  eloquently  than  a  whole  volume  of  words. — There- 
 fore, again,  our  Church  does  not  sever  the  connection  with  the  departed 
 ones  after  the  last  clod  of  earth  has  been  thrown  over  the  grave,  neither 
 does  she  dispose  of  other  worlds  in  prematurely  delegating  some  of  the 
 departed  to  heaven  and  some  to  an  intermediate  place,  before  He  to 
 whom  all  judgment  is  given  comes  to  avail  Himself  of  the  right.  "  God 
 is  not  the  God  of  the  dead,  but  of  the  living  (Matt.  xxii.  32) ;  for  to  Him 
 all  are  alive,"  and  our  Church  practises  and  enjoins  continuation  of  the 
 innermost  connection  in  prayer  - — that  sweetest  converse  of  souls  and 
 surest  ladder  to  heaven — for  and  to  the  departed,  beloved,  or  revered 
 ones.  She  does  so,  however,  not  in  the  utilitarian,  rationalistic  spirit  of 
 bondage,  but  in  the  spirit  of  brotherly  love,  being  sure  of  reciprocity  ;  yet 
 again,  not  because  she  does  not  account  the  great  atonement  as  all  suffi- 
 cient for  salvation,  or  admits  any  so-called  works  of  supererogation,  but 
 
 '  A  veiy  suggestive  division. 
 
 -  Prayer  (constant,  continuous)  is,  as  it  were,  tlie  blood  circulating  in  the  body  ;  it  is 
 her  life  and  expression  of  that  life ;  it  is  the  speech  of  love,  eternal  breath  of  God's 
 Spirit. 
 
4IO  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS    OE   THE    WORLD. 
 
 because  she  is  alien  to  tlie  worldly  principle  of  quid  pro  quo,  and,  trusting 
 to  the  efficacy  of  friends'  prayers  while  they  are  still  alive,  an  orthodox 
 does  not  forget  that  the  separation  from  the  departed  is  merely  another 
 form  of  absence. — But  while  these  manifestations  of  unity  cannot  but  show 
 themselves  outwardly,  particular  members  do  not  judge  their  brethren,  and 
 liie  community  is  indulgent,  sometimes  to  a  fault ;  it  does  not  search  the 
 hearts,  and  does  not  refuse  its  visible  membership  to  repentance,  although 
 merely  outward.  Those  wlio  do  not  belong  to  her  pale  the  visible  Church 
 does  not  judge,  for  "  to  his  own  lord  he  stindeth  or  falleth"  (Rom.  xiv.  4), 
 and  renegades  she  simply  avoids  as  those  who  cut  themselves  from  the 
 community.  Again,  inasmuch  as  hidden  ties  that  may  unite  visible 
 Church  with  mankind  without  her  pale  are  not  revealed,  we  have  neither 
 right  nor  desire  to  delegate  to  damnation  all  those  who  do  not  belong  to 
 her,  all  the  more  that  such  an  assumption  would  be  in  opposition  to  God's 
 mercy.  We  are  certain  only  that  without  Christ  and  without  love  to  Him 
 no  one  can  be  saved;  but  then  Christ  is  not  merely  a  historical  revelation, 
 as  our  Lord  Himself  announced  in  contrasting  sin  against  the  Son  of  man 
 to  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost.  Christ  is  not  only  a  fact,  He  is  law,  an 
 ideal  realized,  and  therefore  He  may  be  worshipj^ed  without  being  known 
 under  that  name.  Everything  that  is  truly  humane,  everything  really 
 grand  or  beautiful,  everything  that  is  worthy  of  respect,  imitation,  venera- 
 tion—all these  are  they  not  merely  different  forms  of  one  and  the  same 
 name  of  our  Saviour?  It  is  therefore  only  those  who  have  opportunities 
 of  ascertaining  that  in  the  Church  there  is  the  plenitude  of  all  grace  that 
 would  stand  self-condemned  for  neglecting  to  avail  themselves  of  the 
 offered  means  to  salvation  ;  '  it  would  then  be  the  sin  against  the  Holy 
 Ghost. 
 
 2.  Moral  liberty  is  an  essential  attribute  of  a  finite  mind.  Its  freedom 
 is  the  lil)erty  of  choice  between  love  to  God  and  egoism  ;  in  other  words, 
 between  righteousness  and  sin.  This  choice  finally  determines  the  rela- 
 tion of  a  finite  mind  towards  its  source, — viz.,  towards  God  ;  and  the  whole 
 world  is  thus  in  sin  either  by  deed  or  by  liability  to  sin,  being  only  pre- 
 served from  actual  sin  by  mere  absence  of  temptation  and  by  the  grace  of 
 God.  All  creation  therefore  carries  in  itself  its  own  condemnation,  is 
 removed  from  God,  and  cannot  be  reconciled  to  Him.  Such  is  the  law  of 
 justice,  the  intlexible,  unchangeable,  and  inexorable  law,  of  which  the  Old 
 Testament  law  had  been  only  a  symbol.  But  the  righteousness  of  the 
 law  does  not  yet  appear.  The  infinite  cannot  be  the  standard  for  a  finite 
 being  and,  on  the  other  hand,  to  a  finite  mind  as  being  entirely  in  sin 
 the  latter  becomes  a  real  necessity,  whilst  righteousness  remains  only  an 
 abstract  possibility  not  possessed  of  any  real  basis.  l>nt  the  infinite 
 becomes  in  Christ  (that  Lamb  of  God  slain  before  all  ages)  a  finite  being. 
 Manifesting  Himself  in  time,  but  being  the  eternal  thought  of  the  Father, 
 
 '  Tliat  disposes  of  ail  cavils  as  to  the  intolerant  spirit  of  the  Church,  and  explains  the 
 j)arlly  deserved  launts  of  tlie  almost  utter  absence  of  proseIyti^nl. 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCR.  4" 
 
 Christ,  the  man  like  unto  us  in  everything,  clothed  in  infirmity,  subject 
 to  ignorance,  suffering,  and  temptation,  rises  up  in  all  the  perfection  of 
 God's  righteousness  solely  by  the  power  of  His  human  will  Thus  from 
 eternity  Christ  is  the  sole  righteous  condemnation  of  sin.  He  alone  is  the 
 standard  for  all  creation,  and  that  is  why  to  Him  is  committed  all  judg- 
 ment, as  God  the  Spirit  made  it  known  to  us.  But  Christ  is  also  the 
 boundless  love  of  the  Father,  and  for  that  reason  He  is  also  the  salvation 
 which  is  solely  possible  to  sinners.  God's  nature  cannot  admit  sin  inas- 
 much as  sin  in  itself  is  a  voluntary  withdrawal  from  God.  But  the  love  of 
 Ciirist  does  not  abandon  the  creature.  Christ  unites  Himself  to  every  one 
 who  does  not  reject  Him,  takes  uijon  Himself  every  sin  whatsoever,  and 
 suffereth  the  penalty  of  sin,  viz.,  deatli.  By  this  means,  however,  the 
 victory  is  also  obtained.  Sin  (tiiat  egoism  of  creatures)  voluntarily  taken 
 over  by  love,  suddenly  becomes  transformed  into  a  consummation  of  the 
 sacrifice,  and,  so  to  speak,  the  crown  of  Divine  perfection.  On  the  other 
 hand,  by  tlie  same  means  by  which  Christ,  in  uniting  Himself  to  the  im- 
 perfect and  guilty  creatures,  became  responsible  for  sin,  the  sinner  may 
 become  the  partner  in  the  perfection  of  iiis  Saviour.  Thus  every  one  who 
 does  not  repudiate  Christ  becomes  reconciled  to  God  ;  every  sin  is  turned 
 into  righteousness,  every  sinner  becomes  the  son  of  God.  Therefore  Christ 
 is  the  eternal  victory  of  God  over  evil ;  He  is  the  sole  condemnation  of 
 sin  from  the  beginning,  and  eternal  salvation  of  every  sinner  who  does  not 
 disown  Him.  Evidently  all  moral  relations  between  God  and  His  crea- 
 tures would  get  entangled,  become  mere  conjectures,  and  would  be  utterly 
 impossible  without  Christ,  Jesus  the  Righteous,  who  is  the  beloved  Son  of 
 the  Father  of  mercies.^  Thus  God  enabled  us  to  see  that  the  justice  of 
 the  Father  had  manifested  itself  in  the  free  perfection  of  His  beloved  Son, 
 and  that  the  boundless  love  of  the  Father  had  shown  itself  in  the  free  love 
 of  the  Lamb  of  God  that  was  slain  for  His  brethren.  Everything  is  an 
 act  of  freedom  :  both  the  righteousness  of  Christ  which  condems  us,  and 
 the  love  of  Christ  which  saves  us  by  that  real  and  unspeakable  unification 
 to  which  He  admits  us.  Vet  everything  is  an  act  of  justice,  for  justice 
 (juridical)  is  nothing  but  the  law  of  logic  manifested;  here  also  nothing 
 has  disa[)peaied  without  a  trace.  Sin  is  not  pardoned,  not  absolved, 
 which  would  be  contrary  to  the  laws  of  reason,  but  it  becomes  transformed 
 into  perfection  by  means  of  a  perfect  union  of  man  with  His  Saviour. — 
 While  then,  in  the  struggle  against  Arianism,  the  Church  asserted  that  in 
 the  world  of  intellectual  beings  nothing  can  equal  God  in  moral  perfection, 
 and  against  Nestorius  and  Eutychus,  that  God  and  man  are  so  far  alike 
 that  God  could   become   man,  she   brings   it   forcibly  to  our  minds,  and 
 
 ■■  There  is  thus,  I  may  add  in  parentliesis,  no  room  for  any  so-called  works  of 
 sxipererogation  or  merits  where  everything  is  but  sin,  and  everything  becomes  righteous- 
 ness in  Christ  only  ;  no  room  for  fanatical  assertion  of  predestination  where  tne  only 
 condemnation  and  the  only  salvation  of  sinners  is  solely  human  liberty  in  Christ,  and  it 
 seems  scarcely  possible  that  one  should  fancy  that  he  can  dispense  witli  Christ  altogether 
 and  yet  be  acceptable  to  God. 
 
4-2  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 makes  it  a  bounden   duty  for  every  Christian  never  to  remain  content 
 with  any  approximate  nearness  to  perfection,  but  constantly  and  with  all 
 might  to  strive  to  the  attainment  of  absolute  perfection.     Thus,  although 
 absolutely  holy  in  this  body  (the  Church)  is  its   Head,  Jesus  Christ,  and 
 the  plenitude  of  grace  provided  by  the  Holy   Ghost, — the  very  striving 
 after  perfection  on  the  part  of  individual  members  and   local   Churches 
 reflects  the  lustre  of  that  holiness  throughout  the  whole  body,  and  purifies 
 the  imperfections  of  others  in  the  sight  of  Him  who  greets  even  intentions, 
 and  who  is  ever  ready  to  spare  ninety-nine  sinners  for  one  rigliteous  man. 
 3.  Now,  the  truth  is  purity  and  holiness  itself,  and  could  be  communi- 
 cated not  to  individuals  or  a  number  of  them,  but  to  the  Church — that 
 pure  and  spotless  bride  of  Christ — as  a  whole.     But  the  Church  is  a  living 
 organic  body  ;  therefore  whatever  had  been  imparted  to  her  must  of  neces- 
 sity have  been  assimilated  by  her,  made  into  a  ])art  and  parcel  of  the  body. 
 Thus  it  may  be  said  that  it  was,  e.g.,  not  St.   Paul  or  St.  John  who  had 
 written  the  e])istles  and  the  gospel,  but  the  Church  herself;  she  singled 
 these  for  distinction  out  of  a  mass  of  other  writings,  and  honours  those 
 apostles  by  assigning  to  them  the  writings  ;  authorship  cannot  possibly  be 
 a  matter  of  dogma  with  us,  so  that  supposing  even  that  criticism  succeeded 
 in  proving  that  certain  writings  or  matters  did  not  belong  to  the  presumed 
 authors,  tlie  books  will  not  be  one  iota  the  less  valuable  ;  they  will  still 
 remain  with  and  for  us,  as  much  as  before,  sacred  books.     Nay,  even  if  we 
 take  the  extremely  unlikely  case  of  an  entire  loss  of  the  text,  the  Church  is 
 capable  of  reproducing  it,  just  as  she  was  able  to  li\e  before  she  accepted 
 or  adopted  the  writings,  because  it  is  herself,  or,  to  speak  more  correctly, 
 God  the  Holy  Ghost  who  had  written  the  books  with  her  hand  or  de- 
 livered them  by  word  of  her  mouth.     Botli  the  Scripture  and  the  tradition  ' 
 (of  course,  dogmatic)  are  one  and   the  same  manifestation   of  the  Holy 
 Spirit  under  different  outward  forms  only,  so  that  the  one  is  nothing  else 
 but  written  tradition,  and  the  other,  living  Scripture. — But  what  can  be  the 
 relation  of  individual,  however  exalted,  members  to  the  teaching  of  the 
 whole  body  ?     None  other  than  that  of  humble  submission  and  obedience, 
 although  the  elucidation  or  assertion  of  that  teaching  might  proceed  from 
 a  new  convert  or  a  single  deacon.     Thus,  at  Antioch,  the  very  leader  of 
 the  holy  band  of  Christ's  disciples  himself  fell  into  an  error  which  boded 
 danger  to  all  the  future  of  Cliristian  liberty,  and  rose  up  again  not  by  any 
 other  means  but  by  humble  obedience  to  the  voice  of  St.  Paul,  then  only 
 a  new  convert.    The  so-called  successors  of  the  first  do  not  seem  to  under- 
 stand even  wherein  St.  Peter's  greatness  lay.     This  exam|)le  teaches  us  to 
 understand  the  relation  of  each  of  the  apostles  to  the  Church  of  apostles, 
 and  therefore  also  the  relation  of  every  believer  to  the  Church  in  all  ages. 
 'I'hus,  at  the  first  Nicean  Council  it  was  St.  Athanasius,  still  only  a  deacon, 
 
 '  liut  for  the  latter  no  Scripture  would  exist,  as  tlie  canon  itself  is  the  procliict  of  tra- 
 dition ;  it  would  not  be  preserved,  or  would  be  misunderstood  and  ])crverted,  but  for  that 
 living  voice  of  tradition,  guided  by  tlie  ever  present  Holy  Spirit  of  truth. 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  413 
 
 who  bore  the  whole  weight  of  defence  of  the  truth  against  powerful  Arians, 
 and  carried  the  day.  What  had  made  the  distinction  between  councils, 
 some  being  known  as  oecumenical,  and  others  either  not  accounted  as  of 
 such  importance,  or  called  false,  heretical  councils  ?  Was  it  a  number  of 
 bishops,  or  the  influence  of  the  representatives?  By  no  manner  of  means. 
 The  first  Council  of  Nicea  was  attended  by  318  representatives  only,  while 
 the  so-called  semi-Arian  (at  Rimini)  counted  over  500  members,  and  had 
 might  and  so-called  intelligence  on  its  side.  It  was  the  Church  as  a  whole 
 who  gave  her  assent  and  ratified  the  conclusions  of  the  first,  and  rejected 
 as  heretical  those  of  the  second,  the  consensus  of  the  whole  body  being 
 the  assurance  of  the  presence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  with  the  first,  viz.,  "  Vox 
 populi  vox  Dei  "  in  the  highest  conception  of  that  saying.  I'hat  is  why  the 
 Church,  from  the  time  of  the  apostles,  had  always  prefaced  the  conclusions 
 to  which  the  councils  cime  with  the  formula  :  "  It  seemed  good  to  the 
 Holy  Spirit  and  to  us  "  (Acts  xv.  28).  ^^'hy,  again,  did  every  council 
 ratify  the  decisions  of  its  predecessors,  but  as  a  proof  that  the  Church  had 
 borne,  through  her  representatives,  witness  to  her  assent  and  consent  ? 
 Therefore  the  councils  themselves  did  not  introduce  anything  new,  but 
 what  was  already,  at  least  implicitly,  known  and  taught  by  the  Church. 
 Take  the  case  of  o/Aooi'cnor.  Is  the  word  to  be  found  in  the  Scriptures  ? 
 Nowhere.  How  is  it  then  that  those  with  whom  the  letter  of  the  Scripture 
 is  the  be-all  and  end-all,  also  accept  it  ?  With  us  it  is  the  word  of  the 
 Church  continually  striving  to  express  that  which  can  never  be  adequately 
 expressed  :  human  word  is  not  able  either  to  define  or  to  describe  God  and 
 things  Divine  as  they  are  in  themselves,  in  their  substance  and  essence. — ^It 
 is  this  constant  endeavour  which  had  been,  is,  and  shall  ever  be  at  work, 
 and  which  is  loosely  called  the  development  that  can  be  discovered  in  the 
 history  of  the  Church,  and  which  alone  must  satisfy  cravings  for  something 
 new  of  the  so  changeable  and  continually  changing  human  mind.  This 
 presents  a  very  wide  field  for  manifestation  of  the  powers  of  human  facul- 
 ties in  investigation  and  elucidation,  and  the  Church  does  not  only  sanction 
 these  exertions,  but  avails  herself  of  the  results  of  these  labours  of  indivi- 
 dual minds,  provided  they  are  in  accord  with  her  own  ideas,  and  provideil 
 she  thinks  it  fit  or  opportune  to  adopt  them.  In  no  other  book  of  the 
 New  Testament  was  the  expression  "  Word  "  used,  although  exact  equiva- 
 lents of  it  are  to  be  found  in  them  all.  But  it  was  used  in  the  very  first 
 verse  of  the  Gospel  of  St.  John — admittedly  one  of  the  latest  productions 
 of  the  apostolic  era — and  it  was  adopted,  because  it  expressed  more  con- 
 cisely and  lucidly  the  idea  of  the  Church,  and  because  the  Church  found 
 in  her  bosom  a  new  element — new  historic  life  in  pupils  of  the  Greek 
 philosophy.  Such  expressions  as  eternal  generation,  eternal  procession^ 
 Trinity,  Persons,  etc.,  appear  and  come  into  general  use  by  degrees  only, 
 but  such  kind  of  progress  does  not  go  beyond  the  domain  of  analytic 
 terminology,  and  by  no  manner  of  means  can  be  taken  for  development  of 
 doctrine,  the  latter  remaining  for  ever  the  same. — There  was  but  one  great 
 
414  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    ]VORLD. 
 
 day  of  Pentecost,  when  God  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  Comforter  who  was  to 
 teach  the  Church  all  things,  and  to  bring  to  her  remembrance  all  that 
 Christ  had  said  (or  done)  to  His  disciples,  who  was  to  guide  her  into  all 
 the  truth,  and  to  bear  witness  of  Christ, — when  He  came  down  on  those 
 united  in  love,  in  prayer  and  veneration,  under  the  significant  form  of  fiery 
 tongues,  to  for  ever  abide  in  the  Church.  And  it  appears  to  us  presumptu- 
 ous, nay  blasphemous,  to  expect  another  ;  it  would  mean  the  rejection  of 
 the  promise  that  the  Church  will  never  be  forsaken,  and  would  again 
 amount  to  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  perversion  of  man's  mind, 
 in  his  rationalistic  pride,  cannot  go  further  than  the  belief  in  any  other  and 
 personal,  individual  revelation  but  the  one  wliich  was  given  to  the  Church, 
 and  which  is  sufficient  for  everything  that  appertains  to  life  or  salvation. 
 A  Joseph  Smith  ^  may  forge  anything,  and  it  will  be  swallowed  as  Holy  Scrip- 
 ture ;  only  Jesus  Christ  must  remain  merely  the  son  of  a  carpenter.     . 
 
 4.  Thus  united,  holy  and  catholic,  the  Church,  from  the  great  day  of 
 Pentecost,  possesses  the  plenitude  of  all  grace  for  her  high  and  great 
 mission.  For  her  inner  life  and  working  she  possesses  sacraments,  that 
 most  tangible  manifestation  of  God's  grace  which  is  vouchsafed  to  the  earth 
 by  heaven  :  they  are  seven  in  number,  and  remain  still  in  all  their  pristine 
 ajiostolic  purity.  At  the  same  time,  for  those  who  are  without  her  pale, — 
 who,  as  St.  Paul  puts  it,  "being  ignorant,  going  about  to  establish  their 
 own  righteousness,  have  not  submitted  to  the  righteousness  of  God  "  (Rom. 
 X.  3)  — she  is  a  mirror  in  which  are  reflected  their  deviations  from  the  right 
 path,  and  she  may  yet  be  as  light  and  standard  to  some  and  judgment  to 
 others.  Thus  while  there  is  a.  tendency  in  one  community  which  is  so 
 anxious  to  secure  by  any  means  the  utmost  number  of  members,  to  use 
 even  force  in  proselytizing,  and  while  in  others  the  regeneration  imparted 
 in  baptism  is  exaggerated  so  much  as  to  make  other  sacraments  unneces- 
 sary, and  which /^A-  contra  leads  to  another  extremity  of  denying  any  re- 
 generation at  all, — our  Church  particularly  insists  that  baptism  should  be 
 looked  upon  as  the  most  perfect  triumph  of  human  liberty,  when  the  bap- 
 tized declares  his  willingness  to  believe  with  all  his  heart,  viz.,  submit 
 himself  to  the  action  of  the  redeeming  grace  which  opens  to  him  the  door 
 into  the  New  Testament  Church.  Therefore,  directly  after  baptism  another 
 sacrament  had  always  been  and  is  performed, — that  of  imposition  of  hands, 
 which,  from  time  immemorial,  was  substituted  for  by  Chrisma,  consecrated 
 by  bishops  only,  and  in  which  are  imparted  the  gifts  necessary  to  one  of 
 an  elect  race,  a  royal  priesthood,  a  holy  nation  (i  Pet.  ii.  9), — viz.,  a  kind 
 of  first  grade  in  the  Church.  Now,  this  has  been  turned  into  confirmation 
 (with  Protestants'  unmeaning  examination),  and  is  performed  years  after 
 baptism.  Is  it,  then,  a  second  baptism,  the  first  being  insufficieiu  ?  In 
 our  Church  a  second  baptism  is  provided  in  the  sacrament  of  penance,  and 
 from  her  ])oint  of  view  it  is  not  difficult  to  understand  the  necessity  for 
 such  a  sacrament.     Humility  and  self-condemnation  are  in   the  power  of 
 
 '    Like  the  fuundcr  of  Moimonisni,  Joseph  Sniilli. 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  415 
 
 every  member,  but  ilie  grace  of  absolution  is  in  the  Church,  and  is  en- 
 trusted by  her  to  the  stewards  of  God's  mysteries,  who  by  that  means  rein- 
 troduce into  the  fold  those  who,  in  their  contrite  heart,  think  themselves 
 unworthy  of  remaining  as  members  of  the  holy  body.  Look  into  what  a 
 worldly  instrument  the  confessional  box  has  been  turned  by  the  Roman 
 Catholics,  and  the  natural  revulsion  of  the  Protestants  wlio  reject  this 
 sacrament  altogether,  having  made  the  Church  of  every  individual  !  With 
 us  there  can,  of  course,  be  no  question  of  works  of  satisfaction,  as  epi 
 themias  are  mere  disciplinary  and,  so  to  speak,  dietary  prescriptions.  One 
 can  now  understand  why  this  sacrament  precedes  that  of  Eucharist,  in 
 which  man  enters  into  the  most  ])erfect  union  with  Christ,  and  really  and 
 truly  partakes  of  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ.  How  earthified  is  this 
 sacrament  in  one  community  which  deprives  the  laity  of  the  cup,  and  how 
 spiritualised  and,  so  to  speak,  evaporated  it  becomes  in  other  bodies,  as  if  the 
 Paschal  Lamb  was  not  as  good  a  symbol,  if  only  a  symbol  was  necessary  ! 
 Here  rationalism  undisguised  is  rampant  in  the  West  with  the  question  of 
 atomistic  chemistry.  Our  Church  could  never  raise  the  question  as  to  the 
 relation  in  Eucharist  between  the  body  of  Christ  and  the  elements,  for  she 
 knows  that  God's  acts  in  sacraments  do  not  confine  themselves  to  the  out- 
 ward, external  things,  but  avail  themselves  of  the  elements  as  intermedi- 
 aries between  Christ  and  the  Church.  It  is  by  the  faith  and  prayer  (no 
 wonder  rejected  by  Roman  Catholics  and  Protestants  alike)  of  the  latter  as 
 a  whole  that  the  sacrament  becomes  accomplished,  and  bodily  unification 
 of  her  members  with  Christ  actually  takes  place,  for  justification  of  worthy 
 |)artakers  and  condemnation  of  others.  "  Ye  have  not  chosen  Me,  but  I 
 have  called  you,"  said  our  Saviour  to  His  disciples,  and  God  the  Holy 
 Ghost,  by  His  apostle  (Paul),  laid  it  down  that  "  without  any  dispute  the 
 less  is  blessed  of  the  better"  (Heb.  vii.  7).  Thus  the  Church  has  always 
 taught.  She  does  not  begin  with  imperfection  in  order  to  arrive  at  a  per- 
 fect state  ;  her  point  of  departure  is  perfection  and  omnipotence  which 
 draw  up  to  themselves  imperfection  and  infirmity.  For  that  reason,  the 
 plenitude  of  the  rights  of  the  Church  which  Christ  had  handed  to  His 
 apostles  always  remains  with  the  pinnacle  of  her  hierarchy.  By  bishops 
 only  are  the  lower  grades  consecrated,  and  therein  lies  the  significance  of 
 their  office  and  their  immeasurable  importance,  inasmuch  as  it  is  through 
 the  bishops  that  the  Church  on  earth  remains  united,  through  all  gener- 
 ations, to  her  Divine  Founder;  and  thr  ugh  them  she  feels  herself  continu- 
 ally lifted  up  to  Him  whose  hands  were  imposed  on  His  apostles.  For 
 this  reason  also  the  Church  recognises  their  decisions  in  matters  of  disci- 
 pline, holds  them  entitled  to  the  right  and  honour  to  declare  her  decisions 
 as  to  dogmas,  although  leaving  it  to  herself  to  judge  whether  her  faith  and 
 tradition  are  truthfully  witnessed  by  them,  and  delegates  chiefly  to  them 
 the  service  of  the  word  and  instruction,  although  she  does  not  deprive  any 
 of  her  members  of  the  right  granted  by  the  Holy  Spirit  to  whomsoever  He 
 listeth.     All  these,  evidently,  are  in  close  connection  with  the  hierarchical 
 
41 6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 offices,  and  do  not  in  the  least  depend  on  moral  perfection  of  individuals, 
 to  the  attainment  of  which  it  is  everbody's  duty  to  strive,  and  which  there- 
 fore cannot  be  the  privilege  of  anyone.  The  pope,  with  his  pretensions, 
 cannot  be  looked  upon  as  a  bishop,  and  is  therefore  consecrated  by  those 
 who  are  immeasurably  below  him.  Who  should  blame  then  presby- 
 terians  ?  What,  again,  do  we  see  as  a  consequence  of  the  rejection  of 
 orders  as  a  sacrament  ?  More  than  seven  hundred  she-reverends  in 
 America,  and  yet  with  them  it  is  the  Bible  and  nothing  but  the  Bible. 
 Where  is  then  St.  Paul  with  his  "  I  suffer  not  a  woman  to  teach  or  usurp  (i 
 Tim.  ii.  12)  the  dominion  over  a  man,  but  to  be  in  quietness"?  If  the 
 imposition  of  hands  in  the  sacrament  of  orders  had  ceased,  all  the  other 
 sacraments  would  cease  also  (baptism  only  excepted),  and  the  human  race 
 would  be  deprived  of  all  grace,  for  then  the  whole  Church  would  have  pro- 
 claimed that  Christ  had  rejected  her.  "  Not  so  was  in  the  beginning," 
 said  our  Saviour  :  God  created  husband  and  wife  (not  man  and  woman). 
 For  the  husband  his  wife  is  not  a  woman,  just  as  for  the  wife  her  husband 
 is  not  one  of  many  men  ;  the  whole  world  for  the  couple  is  sexless.  There- 
 in lies  the  difference  in  the  idea  of  marriage  entertained  by  the  Church  and 
 other  Christian  communities.  Marriage  is  neither  a  treaty,  a  duty,  nor  a 
 legalized  slavery  ;  it  is  an  organic  and,  therefore,  mutual  unification  of  the 
 two  children  of  God.  It  is  a  sacrament  and  a  mystery.  The  Church 
 never  sanctions  separation  of  the  newly  baptized  from  their  (former)  wives. 
 Protestants  having  rejected  sacramental  character  of  the  marriage,  were 
 obliged  to  admit  freedom  of  divorce,  and  have  thus  turned  the  married 
 state  into  legalized  adultery  ;  and  the  Roman  Catholics,  who  do  not  admit 
 divorce  at  all,  even  in  cases  of  adultery,  changed  it  into  slavery.  The  idea 
 of  organic  and  mutual  unification, — viz.,  inner  sanctity  of  the  married  state 
 — is  lost  in  both  cases,  for,  from  strictly  Christian  point  of  view,  adultery 
 is  the  death-blow  to  tiie  marria^^e,  just  as  divorce  is  legalized  adultery.  In 
 the  sacrament  of  oil  the  Church  sits,  as  it  were,  in  judgment  over  the 
 earthly  frame  of  man,  and  either  cures  him  when  nothing  else  does,  or 
 suffers  death  to  destroy  that  frame  as  one  not  more  necessary  for  the  visible 
 Church  and  God's  unfathomable  ways.  It  is  not  the  extreme  unction  with 
 us,  and  cannot  produce  "  Peculiar  People,"  with  their  fliith-hcaling,  as  they 
 appeared  among  Protestants  in  consequence  of  the  rejection  of  the  sacra- 
 ment. 
 
 Such  is  the  teaching  of  the  Church  with  regard  to  sacraments,  and  this 
 is  the  outcome  of  the  Roman  Church  having  once  forgotten  how  indis- 
 pensat)le  love  is,  and  having  introduced  into  the  creed  unwarranted  innova- 
 tion, without  even  so  much  as  announcing  the  fact  to  her  sister,  the,  at 
 that  time  great.  Church  of  the  East,  thus  implicitly  treating  the  latter  as  a 
 flock  of  helots  not  worthy  to  be  taken  any  notice  of.  The  fratricide  Cain 
 had  also  once  answered  that  he  was  not  a  custodian  to  his  brother.  .  .  . 
 Once  a  part  of  a  body  arrogates  to  itself  such  a  right,  such  privilege  of  the 
 grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  the  inevitable  consequence  for  that  body  can 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  417 
 
 be  but  one,  viz.,  a  revolt  within  her  own  fold  until  individual  particles  come 
 to  arrogate  to  themselves  the  same  right.  .  .  .  The  deification  of  the 
 pope  (or  shall  we  call  it  the  eighth  Christian  sacrament,  in  virtue  of  which 
 he  becomes  the  oracle  of  God)  to  stop  the  process  of  disintegration,  would 
 not,  we  venture  to  think,  achieve  the  purpose.  And  therein  lies  our  firm 
 belief  and  fondest  Christian  hope  that  our  brethren  in  the  West  will  see  at 
 last  the  absurdities  to  which  they  have,  unintentionally  and  unwillingly,  no 
 doubt,  arrived. 
 
 But  what  did  the  Church  do  in  her  councils  and  in  her  creed  ?     Do 
 these  not  prove  that  truth  was  not  wholly  revealed  to  her  from  the  begin- 
 ning?    No;  what  the  Church  did  do  in  her  councils  and  her  creed  had 
 been  to  more  explicitly,  on  account  of  special  circumstances,  bear  witness 
 to  what  she  implicitly  knew  before.     In  her  Nicean  Creed  she  defined  the 
 Godhead  itself.     Later,  in  the  schools  of  Nestorius  and  Eutichus,  there 
 appeared  the  tendency  to  pervert  the  tradition  of  the  Church  as  to  the 
 relation  of  God  to  His  intellectual  creatures.     The  first  refused  to  recos;- 
 nize  Christ  as  true  God,  the  other,  as  true  man  ;  they  both  placed  between 
 God  and  man  an  impassable  abyss,  and  taught  that  it  was  impossible  for 
 God  to  become  moral  being  possessed  of  the  choice  between  good  and 
 evil,  and  thus  deprived  man  of  the  great  happiness  of  being  able  to  pene- 
 trate with  his  love  into  the  unfathomable  depths  of  God's  love.     But  the 
 Church  asserted  in  her  conciliar  testimony  that  man  is  the  image  of  his 
 creator,  and  that  God  therefore  might  and  really  did  become  man.     The 
 abyss  was  bridged  over.     Thus  man  is  exalted  by  the  possession  of  the 
 right  to  investigate  the  perfection  of  the  eternal  Being,  and,  at  the  same 
 time,  acquires  the  sacred  duty  in  his  own  i>erson  to  strive  after  the  moral 
 perfection,  as  he  is  made  into  God's  likeness.     Still  later,  by  erroneous 
 teaching  of  Monothelites,  was  called  forth  yet  another  testimony  of  the 
 Church  as  to  the  identity  between  moral  nature  and  will,  and  the  natural 
 perfection  which  was  manifested  by  the  Incarnate  Word  within  the  limits 
 of  His  human  nature.     One  more  question  began  greatly  to  agitate  the 
 Church.     Namely  :  pious  use  of  icons  (holy  pictures)  was  admitted  by  the 
 Church  from  time  immemorial,  but  popular  ignorance  turned  the  veneration 
 into  idolatry.     Unreasonable  and  passionate  zeal   of  some  pressed  the 
 Church  to  condemn  the  custom  itself,  which  would  have  amounted  to  the 
 total  deprivation  of  liberty.     But  the  Church  as  a  living  body,  animated 
 by  the  Holy  Spirit,  had  the  right  to  glorify  God's  majesty  both  in  word, 
 sound  and  image,  and  she  declared  full  liberty  of  worshipping  God  under 
 any  symbols  which   love  might  suggest  to  the  unanimity  of  Christians. 
 Thus    while   the  other  councils  had   saved    Christian  doctrine,  t'le   last 
 (second  Nicean)  saved  the  liberty  of  Christian  feeling.    And  quite  recently, 
 while  protesting  through   the  Eastern  Patriarchs  against  the  perversion  of 
 God's  irrevocable  law,  that  death  is  the  penalty  of  sin,  which  law  was  made 
 known  to  our  progenitors  and  was  manifested  also  in  the  demise  of  the 
 Holy  Virgin,  whose  birth  the  then  pope  was,  however,  about  to  proclaim 
 VOL.  I.— pt.  2.  F   F 
 
4iS  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 to  have  been  free  from  the  original  sin,  the  Church  declared,  in  anticipation 
 even  of  the  dogma  of  papal  infallibility  (then  still  in  embryo  and  a  mooted 
 |)oint),  that  the  knowledge  of  God's  ti-uth  is  grafited  to  the  vnitual  love  of 
 Christians  only,  and  has  no  other  controller  or  guardian  besides  that  love. 
 
 "  This  is  the  apostolic  faith,  this  is  the  faith  of  the  Fathers,  this  is  the 
 OrthodoK  Fai'th,  and  this  Faith  has  established  the  world  !  "  is  the  declar 
 ation  which  is  this  very  day  (quite  accidental  coincidence  it  may  be)  made 
 in  the  Churches  of  the  East,  it  being  the  day  devoted  to  the  solemnization 
 of  the  triumph  of  Christian  liberty  achieved  by  the  Church  in  the  second 
 Nicean  Council,  and  I  cannot  do  otherwise  than  re-echo  it,  and  say  Amen 
 to  it. 
 
 Readily  do  we  acknowledge,  and  sometimes  too  hastily  adopt,  the  re- 
 sults of  the  great  achievements  of  the  Western  mind  and  spirit  in  the  affairs 
 of  this  world,  but  in  matters  of  faith  the  Eastern  is,  as  it  has  ever  been,  the 
 source  and  cradle  of  everything  that  is  purest,  highest  and  heavenly. 
 Humiliating  though  it  might  appear  to  the  haughty  spirit  of  the  West,  it 
 will  at  last,  and  of  necessity,  turn  its  eye  towards  the  East  and  realize  the 
 saying : 
 
 Ex  Oriente  lux  ! 
 
 II. — The  Russian  Church. 
 
 Nearly  three  years  have  now  elapsed  since  Kiev,  that  most  ancient 
 capital  of  Russia,  presented,  for  the  month  of  July,  an  unusually  animated 
 appearance.  Representatives  of  the  orthodox  faith  from  every  quarter 
 of  the  globe  came  there,  and  Christian  greetings  and  well  wishes  arrived 
 from  the  most  distant  parts  of  the  world  ;  amongst  numberless  others,  a 
 sympathetic  episde  from  His  Grace  the  Lord  Archbishop  of  Canterbury 
 had  also  reached  the  festive  city  and  was  duly  honoured.  It  was  the  nine- 
 hundredth anniversary  of  the  introduction  of  Christianity  into  Russia  that 
 was  solemnized  there  with  great  rejoicings,  and  it  cannot  be  gainsaid  that 
 the  state  and  the  people  had  as  much  an  occasion  as  the  Church  to  take 
 part  in  those  fesdvities. 
 
 "  By  Russia's  faith,"  so  said  the  hymn  composed  expressly  for  the 
 occasion  and  sung  at  the  festival,  "  is  our  state  free  and  stable.  Glory 
 to  Vladimir,  the  Prince  of  Kiev — the  anciently  throned !  Nine  centuries 
 are  past  ;  on  the  foam  of  the  ninth  wave,  the  shield  of  our  faith  is  secure, 
 the  bjquest  of  bygone  times  is  strong,  the  banner  of  orthodoxy  is  waving, 
 shining  forth  afar.  Rejoice,  O  Prince  Vladimir — isapostolic  Prince ; 
 ICndeared  to  the  heart  of  the  people,  tlie  elect  of  the  holy  faith,  to-day, 
 O  Prince,  we  sing  thy  day,  together  with  the  whole  Russian  land.  If  the 
 land  is  not  to  be  measured,  if  the  inhabited  places  on  it  cannot  be  counted, 
 — to  God  of  strength  be  ])rayer,  to  Prince  Vladimir  the  praise  !  Glory  !  " 
 Thus  the  participation  in  the  festival  on  the  part  of  the  state  and  people 
 at  large  was  only  tlie  due  recognition  of  the  inestimable  service  which  the 
 Orthodox  Church  and  faith  had  done  to  the  Russian  people  and  state. 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  419 
 
 In  the  present  lecture  I  propose  to  ofifer  you  a  historic  retrospect  of  the 
 Orthodox  Church  in  Russia,  from  her  inception  there  down  to  the  present 
 day,  thus  enabhng  you  to  see  the  actual  application  and  working  of  that 
 guiding  spirit  and  those  first  principles  which  were  the  subject  of  my 
 previous  lecture. 
 
 Russia  claims  also  at  least  an  apostolic  visit  to  her  precmcts,  and  a 
 blessing,  if  not  actual  introduction  of  Christianity,  by  an  apostle.  Her 
 great  annalist,  Nestor,  in  his  chronicles,  relates  that  St.  Andrew,  the  first 
 called  of  the  twelve,  ascending  up  and  penetrating  by  the  Dnieper  into  the 
 deserts  of  Scythia,  planted  the  first  cross  on  the  hills  of  Kiev,  and,  "  See 
 you,"  said  he,  to  his  disciples,  "  these  hills  ?  On  these  hills  shall  shine 
 the  light  of  Divine  grace.  There  shall  be  here  a  great  city,  and  God  shall 
 have  in  it  many  churches  in  His  Name."  But  this  is  merely  a  venerable 
 tradition,  although  not  an  unlikely  one,  as  it  is  certain  that  the  same  apostle 
 had  preached  the  Gospel  and  appointed  Stachys  to  be  the  first  Bishop 
 of  Byzantium,  from  which  city  the  rays  of  Divine  light,  after  an  interval  of 
 nine  centuries,  are  historically  known  to  have  beamed  upon  Russia. 
 
 The  nine  centuries  succeeding  that  apostle's  visit  had  witnessed  so 
 many  peregrinations  and  clianges  of  masters  of  the  land  that  it  is  a  matter 
 of  wonder  how  the  aboriginal  Slavs  were  enabled  to  outlive  them.  (Is  it 
 not  a  signal  proof  of  a  singular  vitality  of  the  race  ?)  All  the  successive 
 hordes  of  Asiatics,  that  migrated  mto  and  overrun  Europe,  one  after 
 another,  had  come  in  contact  with,  and  subjugated  first,  the  Slavs ;  thus, 
 for  centuries,  even  before  Christianity  was  introduced,  the  great  virtues 
 of  patience  and  endurance  in  subjection  were  roughly  taught  to  them. 
 Left  at  last  to  themselves,  after  centuries  of  perpetual  subjugation,  they 
 were  unable  to  manage  their  own  affairs  and  sent  across  the  seas  to  invite 
 those  who  would  rule  and  govern  them.  Essentially  agricultural,  peaceful 
 and  commercial  people,  the  Slavs  wanted  those  who  would  defend  them 
 from  continual  incursions  of  nomadic  barbarians,  and  guarantee  to  them 
 quiet  pursuit  of  their  peaceful  and  gentle  avocations.  A  whole  clan  of 
 warrior  Normans,  with  their  chief,  Ruric,  in  862  (the  very  year  of  invention 
 of  Slavonic  alphabet)  answered  the  call  and  supplied  even,  as  it  is  supposed, 
 the  very  name  "Russ"  to  the  adopted  country,  bringing  with  them  their 
 turbulent,  predatory,  and  quarrelsome  habits,  and  yet  assimilating  them- 
 selves, although  by  slow  degrees,  to  the  aborigines  and  their  characteristic 
 customs.  "  The  domicile  "  of  the  Slavs  "  was  so  remote  from  the  centre 
 of  ancient  culture  that  Greeks  and  Romans  could  scarcely  come  into 
 direct  contact  with  them  ;  and  having  always  been,  as  they  are  still,  by 
 nature  a  peaceable  people,  they  themselves  never  greatly  interfered  in 
 the  aftairs  of  their  border  lands,"  observes  Dr.  Vilhelm  Thomsen  in  his 
 lectures  on  "  The  Relations  between  Ancient  Russia  and  Scandinavia," 
 and  the  Scandinavians — we  may  add — assisted  in  accelerating  that  contact 
 and  in  bringing  the  light  of  Christianity  to  their  hearts  and  homes. 
 Heathenism  of  the  southern  Slavs  was  not  of  a  fanatical  character,  as  that, 
 
420  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 e.g.,  of  Scandinavians  and  their  own  north-western  brethren:  it  was  of  a 
 purer  kind  and  mild  in  its  form  ;  there  were  with  them  neither  priests 
 nor  idols,  the  latter  having  been  introduced  by  the  Northmen.  As  Pro- 
 copius  says,  the  Slavs  acknowledged  one  God,  Lord  of  the  universe,  but 
 worshipped  also  rivers,  nymphs,  and  some  other  deities  to  whom  they 
 offered  sacrifices,  practising  also  divination  by  this  same  means.  Thus 
 whilst  worship  of  one  God  and  of  powers  of  nature  can  still  be  traced  in 
 popular  songs  and  customs,  nothing  remains  of  idols,  their  temples  or 
 priests.  This  explains  also  their  ready  conversion  to  Christianity,  the 
 difficulty  devolving  rather  on  those  Northmen  who  were  instrumental  in 
 bringing  its  light  to  their  notice. 
 
 The  seeds  of  that  faith   had  been  sown  there  by  occasional  and  slow, 
 but  sure  degrees.     It  appears  that   Ascold  and  Dir,  two  princes  of  Kiev 
 and  of  the  companions  of  Ruric,  were  the  first  to  embrace  Christianity. 
 Already  in  866,  viz.,  four  years  after  their  settlement  in  Russia,  they  made 
 their  appearance  in  armed  vessels  before  the   walls  of    Constantinople, 
 when  the  Emperor  was  absent,  and  threw  the  Greek  capital  into  no  small 
 alarm  and  confusion.     Tradition   reports   that  the  Patriarch  Photius  took 
 the  original  robe  of  the   Mother  of  God  from  the  Blachern  Church  and 
 plunged  it  beneath   the  waves  of  the  Strait,   when  the   sea  immediately 
 boiled  up  from  underneath,   and    wrecked    the  vessels   of  the   heathen. 
 Struck  with  awe,  these  princes  believed  in  that  God  who  had  smitten  them, 
 and  became  the   first  fruits  of  their  people  to   the   Lord.     The  hymn  of 
 victory  of  the  Greek  Church,  "  To  the  protecting  Conductress,"  in  honour 
 of  the  most  holy  Virgin,  has  remained  a  memorial  of  this  triumph,  and 
 even  now  among  the  Russians  concludes  the  office  for  the  First  Hour  in 
 the  daily  matins,  for  that  was  indeed  the  first  hour  of  salvation   to  the 
 land  of  Russia.     Eighty  years  afterwards  we  find  already  mention  of  a 
 Cathedral  Church  of  the  Prophet  Elias,   at  Kiev,   where  the   Christian- 
 Varia"ians  swore  to  the  observance  of    the   treaty  concluded  with   the 
 Greeks  ;  and   in   Codinus'  Catalogue  of  sees  subject  to  the  Patriarch  of 
 Constantinople,  the  metropolitical  see  of  Russia  appears  as  early  as  tiie 
 year  891.     Certain  it  is,  however,  that  the  wisest  of  the  daughters  of  the 
 Slavonians,  the  widowed  Princess  Olga,  who  governed   Russia  during  the 
 minority  of  her  son  Sviatoslav,  afterwards,  in  965,  undertook  a   voyage 
 to  Constantinople  for  no  other  end  than   to  obtain  a  knowledge  of  the 
 true  God,  and   there   received   baptism    at   the    hands   of  the    Patriarch 
 Polyeuctes,  the   Emperor  Constantine  Porphyrogenitus,  an  admirer  of  her 
 wisdom,  being  himself  her  godfather.     Nestor  draws  an  affecting  picture 
 of  the   Patriarch  foretelling  the  newly  illumined  princess   the   blessings 
 which  were  to  descend  by  her  means  on  future  generations  of  the  Russians, 
 while  Olga  had  now  by  baptism  become  Helena,  that  she  might  resemble 
 both  in   name  and  deed  the  mother   of   Constantine  the  Great.       Her 
 example  and  entreaties,  however,  did  not  affect  her  fierce  and  warlike  son. 
 He  simply  had  no  taste  for  Christianity,  and   pursuing  his  constant  expe- 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  421 
 
 ditions,  left  its  seed  to  germinate  and  spread  without  let  or  hindrance  ; 
 even  his  own  children  remained  under  the  influence  of  their  grandmother, 
 the  isapostolic  Olga.  In  vain  did  Vladimir,  who  from  the  eighth  to  eleventh 
 year  of  his  life  had  resided  at  Novgorod,  separated  from  the  saintly  Olga, 
 attempt  to  prop  up  heathenism  against  the  more  powerful  light  of  Christi- 
 anity. Having,  in  980,  his  eighteenth  year,  become  the  Grand  Duke  of 
 Kiev  and  the  sole  possessor  of  the  even  then  rather  extensive  Russian 
 land,  he  did  introduce  in  Kiev  also  all  the  paraphernalia  of  the  idol- 
 worship  which  he  had  learned  during  his  two  years'  residence  beyond  the 
 seas,  and  set  up  a  very  large  wooden  idol  of  Peroon  with  silver  head  and 
 golden  moustache ;  but,  after  seven  years  of  very  successful  wars  with  his 
 eastern  and  western  neighbours,  he  felt  himself  still  obliged  to  cast  about 
 anxious  looks  for  a  better  faith  and  to  receive  different  religious  embassies 
 which  were  no  doubt  attracted  by  his  fame.^  It  is  certainly  remarkable 
 that  such  a  sensual  religion  as  the  Mahometan,  which  was  the  first  offered 
 by  Bulgarians  from  the  Volga,  did  not  entice  the  man,  who  was  given  up 
 to  the  indulgence  of  his  passions,  and  that  the  Western  doctors  were 
 dismissed  by  him  with  these  words:  "Return  home,  our  ancestors  did 
 not  receive  this  religion  from  you,"  unless  we  take  into  consideration  his 
 Norman  descent ;  still  more  unaccountable  is  Prince  Vladimir's  hesitation 
 even  after  the  preaching  of  a  certain  Greek  philosopher,  Constantine,  had 
 deeply  affected  him.  He  consults  his  elders,  and  with  their  advice  sends 
 his  own  representatives  to  the  different  countries,  that  they  might  see  and 
 judge  on  the  spot  of  the  respective  merits  of  each  faith.  Last  of  all  his 
 ambassadors  were  sent  to  Constantinople,  and  reported  that  in  the  temple 
 (St.  Sophia),  "  in  truth  God  has  His  dwelling  with  men,"  and  that  they 
 can  never  forget  the  beauty  "  they  saw  there."  Even  then  it  was  only 
 the  name  of  his  grandmother  Olga,  the  wisest  of  women,  which  was 
 recalled  by  the  prince's  Boyars  in  witness  of  preferring  the  orthodox  faith, 
 that  turned  the  balance.  Such  however  was  St.  Vladimir's  circumspection 
 in  preserving  entire  independence  of  himself  and  his  state,  that,  although 
 he  had  asked  "where  shall  we  be  baptized?"  he  first  declared  war  to 
 Constantinople,  took,  after  a  long  siege,  the  Greek  city  of  Cherson,  ob- 
 tained the  hand  of  the  Emperor's  sister  Anne,  and  then  only,  in  988, 
 was  actually  baptized.  But  having  thus  "  ten  times  measured  to  cut 
 once,"  as  the  Russian  saying  is,  St.  Vladimir  became  then  a  thorough 
 Christian,  an  entirely  changed  man  ;  his  five  wives  and  scores  of  con- 
 cubines were  dismissed,  his  dissipated  habits  and  drunken  revels  put  an 
 
 '  The  details  of  tlie  way  in  which  the  orthodox  faith  was  selected  and  embraced  by 
 the  prince,  as  well  as  of  the  most  remarkable  and  entirely  peaceable  baptism  in  one  day 
 of  art  entire  city,  can  be  found  in  Mouravieffs  "  History  of  the  Church  of  Russia,"  trans- 
 lated by  the  Rev.  R.  W.  Blackmore,  in  Dean  Stanley's  "  Lectures  on  Eastern  Church," 
 and  in  an  admirable  little  work  on  "  The  Conversion  of  the  Slavs,"  by  the  Rev.  ISIaclear, 
 D.D.  The  latter  exhibits,  in  a  particularly  striking  manner,  although  the  author  himself 
 does  not  seem  to  notice  it,  the  contrast  between  the  exclusively  spiritual  way  in  which 
 the  Greek  Church  had  spread,  and  between  the  Latin,  continually  striving  to  make 
 converts  by  the  sword  and  other  worldly  means. 
 
422  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 end  to.  Henceforth  he  was  really  the  father  of  his  people,  and  still  lives 
 in  the  popular  memory  under  no  other  name  than  that  of  a  beautiful  sun. 
 His  twelve  sons  were  also  baptized  directly  after  he  returned  to  Kiev, 
 and  when  the  great  idol  was  ignominiously  flung  into  the  Dnieper  and 
 carried  away  by  its  waves,  the  whole  land  was  ready  to  follow  his  and 
 their  example.  Thus  at  Kiev  there  was  witnessed  an  almost  unparalleled 
 spectacle  of  a  great  city  and  representatives  of  the  whole  land  baptized 
 all  at  once.  Evidently  the  seed  had  taken  root  and  was  firmly  imbedded 
 in  the  Russian  soil ;  the  religious  and  civil  elements  were  wedded  together 
 in  indissoluble  bonds,  and  Russia's  freedom  and  independence  had  so  far 
 been  preserved. 
 
 The  foundation  of  the   Russian   Church,  as  a  child  of  the  Greek,  had 
 thus  been  firmly  laid,  and  the  leaven  of  pure  Christianity  was  transplanted 
 into  the  land.     It  remained  now  to  build  up  on  that  firm  foundation  and 
 to  let  the  leaven  permeate  the  whole  structure.     The  best  means  for  that 
 was  the  life-long  and  inestimable  work  of  two  Greek  brothers,  Cyril  and 
 Methodius,  who  had  already    more  than  a  century    before  reduced  the 
 Slavonic  tongue  to  writing,  and  translated  into  it  the  Scriptures  together 
 with  some  other  venerable  writings.     Thus  the   Russians  from  the  very 
 beginning  glorified  God  and  were  taught  the  Christian  faith  in  their  own 
 tongue,  and  the  saints  Cyril  and  Methodius  are  therefore  justly  accounted 
 as  the  first  Christian  teachers  of  Russia.     The  first  Metropolitan  Michael, 
 with  the  Greek  clergy,  were  not  slow  in  undertaking  the  journey  towards 
 the  north  of  the  land,  and  visited  the  cities  of  Rostov  and  Novgorod, 
 baptizing  and  instructing  the  people.     St.  Vladimir  himself  made  also  a 
 journey  with  other  bishops  for  the  purpose  of  enlightening  the  people  of 
 the  districts  of  Suzdal  and  Volhynia  ;  even  the  Bolgars  on  the  Volga  and 
 some  Petchenegian  princes  embraced  the  gospel  of  salvation,  and  were 
 baptized.     The  prince  had  shown  great  zeal  in  building  churches  (300  are 
 said  to  have  been  erected  in  Kiev  alone)  and  in  establishing  schools,  and 
 making  provision  for  the  clergy  and  the  poor  by  the  introduction  of  tithes 
 which  consisted  of  a  fixed  quota  of  corn  and  cattle,  and  of  profits  of  trade  ; 
 a  further  tithe  was  also  collected  from  every  cause  that  had  been  tried,  the 
 right  of  trying  having  been  granted  to  the  bishops  and  to  the  Metropolitan, 
 who   judged  according  to   the   Nomocanon.     The  canons   of  the   Holy 
 Councils  and  the  Greek  ecclesiastical  laws,  together  with  the  Holy  Scrip- 
 tures, were  taken  from  the  very  first  as  the  ba^is  of  all  ecclesiastical  ad- 
 ministration in  Russia  ;  some  portions  of  the  civil  law  of  the  Greeks  came 
 also  into  use.     In  988,  viz.,  ten  years  later,  Leontius,  the  second  Metro- 
 politan, had  already  formed  five  dioceses  with  resident  bishops  (at  Rostov, 
 Novgorod,  Tchernigov,  Vladimir  Volhynia,  and  Belgorod,  besides  Kiev). 
 Thus  at  the  end  of  his  reign  of  twenty-seven  years,  St.  Vladimir  had  the 
 consolation  of  seeing  the  fruits  of  his  own  conversion  and  zeal  in  all  the 
 wide  extent  of  his  dominions. 
 
 At  his  death,  however,  in   1015,   an   attempt  was  made  by  Rome  to 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  425 
 
 supplant  orthodoxy  at  Kiev  by  means  of  Sviatopolk,  his  son  and  son-in- 
 law  of  Boleslav,  the  king  of  Poland  ;  but  it  was  utterly  frustrated  by  the 
 great  Yaroslaii.  His  long  reign  (1019-1054)  is  the  most  famous  in  the 
 annals  of  Russian  civil  as  well  as  church  history.  Orthodox  Christianity 
 had  spread  far  and  wide,  and  extended  from  the  Sea  of  Azov  to  the 
 Ladoga  Lake,  and  from  the  banks  of  the  Volga  far  into  Galicia  (city 
 of  Dorpat  in  Livonia — until  quite  recently  the  stronghold  of  Russian- 
 Germanism — was  under  the  name  of  Yurieff  also  established  by  him  in 
 1030).  Yaroslav's  two  ordinances  which  are  still  extant — the  one  exempt- 
 ing the  spiritualities  from  all  civil  duties  and  payments,  the  other  con- 
 firming to  the  bishops  the  right  granted  by  St.  Vladimir  of  judging  in  all 
 •causes  of  marriage,  inheritance,  and  sacrilege,  as  well  as  in  all  that  related 
 to  the  external  or  internal  discipline  of  the  Church — bear  w-itness  to  his 
 good  disposition  in  spiritual  matters.  A  learned  man  and  zealous  worker 
 and  translator  himself,  Yaroslav  had  caused  the  Greek  Nomocanon  to  be 
 translated  for  the  guidance  of  native  bishops.  He  was  the  first  to  found 
 a  library,  viz.,  that  of  St.  Sophia  in  Kiev,  and  to  set  up  schools  both 
 there  and  in  Novgorod  for  the  education  of  candidates  for  holy  orders, 
 and  the  fruit  of  these  were  several  native  bishops— notably  Luka  Jidiata 
 of  Novgorod,  and  the  first  native  Metropolitan  Hilarion.  Three  magnifi- 
 cent monuments  of  the  glorious  times  of  Yaroslav  still  remain,  namely, 
 the  cathedrals  of  St.  Saviour  at  Chernigoff,  and  of  St.  Sophia  in  Novgorod 
 (preserved  in  all  its  grandeur)  and  in  Kiev  (the  latter,  with  the  marble 
 tomb  of  its  founder,  having  stood  through  all  the  storms  of  the  Mongolian 
 and  Polish  invasions,  and  the  frequent  sackings  of  Kiev).  The  Domestic 
 singing  in  eight  modes  or  tones  was  also  introduced  in  Yaroslav's  time, 
 and  the  foundation  was  laid  of  the  great  monastery,  called  Petcherskaya 
 Lavra,  by  SS.  Antonius  and  Theodosius  (the  first  catacomb — pestchera — 
 having  been  excavated  by  Hilarion  the  Metropolitan).  The  latter  having 
 adopted  for  his  institution  the  rule  of  the  Studium  monastery — the  strictest 
 of  all  in  Constantinople — had  added  spiritual  instructions  of  his  own  :  on 
 praying  without  ceasing,  on  the  means  of  preserving  oneself  from  evil 
 thoughts,  on  mutual  charity,  obedience,  diligence  in  labour,  and  his 
 monastery  had  become  afterwards  a  model  for  all  the  religious  houses  in 
 Russia.  "  Many  monasteries,"  says  Nestor,  himself  a  monk  of  the  Lavra 
 and  a  contemporary  of  St.  Theodosius,  "have  been  founded  by  princes 
 and  nobles  and  by  wealth,  but  they  are  not  such  as  those  which  have 
 been  founded  by  tears,  and  fasting,  and  prayer,  and  vigil;  Antony  had 
 neither  gold  nor  silver,  but  procured  all  by  prayer  and  fasting." 
 
 Yaroslav  had  a  numerous  family  and,  by  marriage  ties  of  his  children, 
 was  related  to  the  most  noted  sovereigns  of  Europe, — Norway,  France, 
 Hungary,  Greece,  and  Poland.  According  to  tradition,  Guida,  the 
 daughter  of  the  English  King  Harold,  was  married  to  one  of  Yaroslav's 
 sons.  Swedish  and  English  princes  had  visited  him  and  found  an  asylum 
 in  his  dominions.       Thus  the   schools  opened  already  by   St.  Vladimir, 
 
424  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 increased  and  supported  by  his  son  Yaroslav,  had  brought  the  enlighten- 
 ment of  Russia,  in  the  middle  of  the  eleventh  century,  to  such  a  high 
 standard  as  to  almost  equal  that  of  Greece,  whilst  western  Europe  still 
 remained  mostly  in  a  barbarous  or  transitional  state,  and  could  not  even 
 dream  of  it  at  the  time.  These  efforts  were,  besides,  greatly  assisted  by 
 monasteries  established  by  Russians  themselves,  which  gave  Russia  her 
 first  historians,  such  as  Nestor ;  the  first  orators,  such  as  Cyrillus,  Bishop  of 
 Turov  ;  and  the  leading  scholars  in  general,  some  of  them  speaking  not 
 less  than  five  foreign  languages ;  at  that  time  all  the  bishops  and  even 
 the  Metropolitan  (Hilarion)  were  Russians.  From  their  writings,  still 
 preserved,  one  can  easily  see  that  Christianity  was  not  a  mere  matter  of 
 form  with  them^or  that  it  was  only  outwardly  received.  Thus  humanely, 
 for  example,  wrore^  Vladimir  Monomach  (11113)  :  "O  my  children,  praise 
 Gotl  and  love  men,.^\  For  it  is  not  fasting,  nor  solitude,  nor  monastic  life, 
 that  will  procure  you  eternal  life,  but  only  doing  good.  Forget  not  the 
 poor;  nourish  them;  remember  that  riches  come  from  God,  and  are 
 given  you  only  for  a  short  time.  Do  not  bury  your  wealth  in  the  ground  ; 
 this  is  against  the  precepts  of  Christianity.  Be  fathers  to  orphans.  Be 
 judges  in  the  cause  of  widows,  and  do  not  let  the  powerful  oppress  the 
 weak.  Put  to  death  neither  innocent  nor  guilty,  for  nothing  is  so  sacred 
 as  the  life  and  the  soul  of  a  Christian.  .  .  .  Do  not  desert  the  sick. 
 .  .  .  Drive  out  of  your  heart  all  suggestions  of  pride,  and  remember 
 that  we  are  all  perishable;  to-day  full  of  hope,  to-morrow  in  the  coffin. 
 Abhor  lying,  drunkenness,  and  debauchery.  Endeavour  constantly  to 
 obtain  knowledge.  Without  having  quilted  his  palace  my  father  spoke 
 five  languages — a  thing  which  wins  for  us  the  adm^tion  of  foreigners." 
 
 One  could  not  but  expect  further  development  and  progress  in  enlighten- 
 ment and  in  strengthening  the  position  of  the  Russian  state  among  other 
 European  States.  From  the  advantages  the  Russians  possessed,  of 
 having  a  perfect  and  uniform  language  (whilst  those  of  other  nations  of 
 Europe  were  either  barbarous  dialects  or  still  in  a  state  of  transition), 
 from  their  constant  communications  with  the  capital  and  provinces  of 
 the  Greek  Empire  through  their  clergy,  nobles,  and  merchants  (whilst  many 
 other  nations  were  living  in  a  state  scarcely  above  that  of  savages) — it  is 
 more  than  probable  that  the  Russians,  had  these  advantages  not  all  been 
 destroyed  by  the  irruption  of  Mongols,  might  have  been  among  the  first 
 in  learning  and  in  the  arts  of  civilized  life,  migiit  have  been  leading  and 
 setting  example  to  others,  instead  of  following  in  their  wake.  And  as  a 
 matter  of  fact,  for  more  than  two  hundred  years  Christianity  was  blooming 
 on  Russian  soil  ;  but  (i)  the  calamities  of  internecine  wars,  and  (2)  the 
 unspeakable  miseries  of  the  awful  Tartar  invasion  had  annihilated  their 
 first  fruits,  and  for  several  centuries  made  any  further  progress  or  develop- 
 ment utterly  impossible.  Russia  was  even  yet  destined  to  serve  as  a 
 l)rotecting  wall  for  the  West,  and  to  save  the  latter  from  further  incursions 
 of  barbarians. 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  425 
 
 1.  The  system  of  appanages'  introduced  by  Ruric  had  weakened  Russia 
 by  unceasing  internecine  quarrels  of  princes,  who — perfect  masters  in 
 their  own  portions — were  continually  fighting  (their  quarrels  being  also 
 not  unfrequently  fostered  by  constant  attempts  on  the  part  of  Rome  to 
 bring  Russia  into  her  subjection)  either  for  their  patrimonies  or  for  the 
 title  of  Grand  Duke  of  Kiev,  although  it  became  at  last  merely  nominal. 
 These  constant  quarrels  of  two  centuries'  duration  led  to  no  other  result 
 than  the  shattering  of  their  power  of  defence  against  a  foreign  enemy,  and 
 involved  the  princes  with  their  subjects  in  one  general  ruin  when  they 
 were  attacked  by  the  Mongols.  Throughout  their  continual  internecine 
 wars  the  Church  had  to  suffer  much,  and  her  Metropolitans,  being 
 foreigners,  could  not  be  expected  to  do  muoh  to  stop  these  feuds. 
 
 2.  Jn  1236  the  Tartar  chief,  Batuy,  overran  Russia  with  a  horde  of 
 half  a  million  Asiatic  warriors,  and  in  a  few  years  devasted  nearly  the 
 whole  of  the  then  Russian  Empire,  having  burnt  cities  and  villages,  put 
 both  princes  and  priests  to  death,  and  carried  away  captive  great 
 numbers  of  citizens  and  [)easants.  Russia  was  compelled  to  pay  tribute 
 and,  in  return,  obtained  the  privilege  of  being  ruled  by  her  own  princes, 
 who  for  a  long  time  afterwards  still  continued  their  mutual  feuds,  and 
 had  to  pay  dearly  for  the  privilege  of  ruling  ;  many  of  them  lost  their 
 lives  and  the  Grand  Ducal  dignity  was  invariably  attained  only  through 
 disgrace  and  humiliation  before  the  Tartar  khans.  But  the  incursions  of 
 the  latter  were  so  frequently  repeated  from  time  to  time,  and  the  restored 
 ruins  as  frequently  demolished,  that  Russians  for  two  centuries  had  to 
 live  in  utter  uncertainty  about  their  lives  and  property,  mostly  in  woods 
 and  unapproachable  forests.  The  wonder,  therefore,  rather  is  that  Russia 
 was  able  to  outlive  this  long  period  of  so  severe  a  probation.  To  the 
 Church  she  owes  her  salvation  from  utter  ruin,  and  it  was  the  Church 
 that  inspired  even  Tartars  with  veneration  and  awe,  and  brought  light  into 
 the  impenetrable  darkness  into  which  Russia  was  thrown  by  this  invasion. 
 
 In  the  midst  of  these  horrible  sufferings,  when  Russia  came  to  be 
 divided  between  Yaroslav  of  Novgorod  in  the  north,  and  Daniel  of  Galitch 
 in  the  south,  Rome  had  instigated  against  her  the  Swedes  and  the  Brethren 
 of  the   Sword.     The  first  were,  however,  beaten,   in   1241,   in  a  bloody 
 
 1  Every  male  descemlaiit  of  St.  Vladimir,  as  a  member  of  the  reij^ning  family,  bore 
 the  title  of  Prince  and  had  a  right  to  an  appanage  (in  the  battle  of  Dmitry  Donskoy, 
 13S0,  513  of  them  were  slain).  He  was  the  complete  and  independent  ruler  of  his  own 
 portion  of  territory,  had  his  capital,  his  own  company  of  followers  or  army,  his  own 
 boyars,  erected  his  own  towns  and  fortresses,  issued  ordinances,  had  his  own  courts  of 
 judicature,  rewarded  and  punished  according  to  his  own  discretion,  and  made  war  or 
 peace  with  whom  he  pleased.  The  title  of  the  Great  Prince  belonged  to  the  eldest  son 
 of  the  eldest  branch  of  the  appanaged  princes,  who  could  compel  peace  between  quarrel- 
 ing princes  and,  in  case  of  war  with  foreign  countries,  require  their  assistance  against  the 
 common  enemy,  and  to  be  their  chief  or  head  of  the  confederacy,  but  absolute  authority 
 he  possessed  only  in  his  own  appanage,  not  having  any  right  of  interference  with  their 
 internal  government  or  of  receiving  any  tribute.  The  result  of  this  system,  was  a  loose 
 kind  of  league,  under  one  feeble  head,  of  many  independent  princes  who  were  con- 
 tinually fighting  fur  their  own  selfish  ends,  which  neither  the  nobility,  the  clergy,  nor 
 the  communities  of  the  towns  could  have  any  interest  in. 
 
426  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 battle  on  the  banks  of  the  Neva  (hence  the  name  Alexander  Xevsky), 
 and  the  latter  under  the  walls  of  Pskoff"  by  the  son  of  Yaroslav,  Alexander 
 Nevsky,  who  also  refused  in  a  most  decided  manner  to  hear  the  Papal 
 Legate.  Prince  Daniel,  although  he  accepted  the  crown  and  title  of  the 
 King  of  Galitch,  put  off,  however,  the  proposal  for  a  union  of  Churches 
 until  an  oecumenical  council;  he  also  selected  Cyril,  1250,  a  Russian, 
 to  the  dignity  of  Metropolitan  of  Kiev,  to  which  he  was  consecrated  by 
 the  Patriarch  at  Nice.  There  never  was  a  better  choice  made.  This 
 prelate,  during  fifty  years  of  his  administration,  by  personally  going  from 
 city  to  city,  repaired  and  re-edified  the  Church,  and  extended  her  so  far 
 as  to  consecrate  a  bishop  for  Saray,  the  capital  of  the  Golden  Horde  on 
 the  Volga.  The  khans  not  only  did  not  include  the  clergy  in  the  census 
 of  the  people,  but  even  exempted  from  all  imposts  every  man  "  who,"  to 
 use  their  own  expression,  "  looketh  to  the  Lord  God  and  serveth  God 
 His  Churches."  Bishop  Theognostes  of  Saray  gained  the  confidence  of 
 the  khans  to  such  a  degree,  that  the  successor  of  Batuy  selected  him  as 
 his  ambassador  to  the  Patriarch  of  Constantinople.  But  the  most  im- 
 portant act  of  the  Metropolitan  was  the  convocation  of  a  synod,  in  1274, 
 at  Vladimir,  the  new  capital  of  Russia,  for  the  purpose  of  restoring  the 
 discipline  of  the  Church  and  correcting  the  abuses  which  had  crept  in 
 from  the  West,  such  as  mixing  of  the  Holy  Chrism  with  oil,  and  the  practice 
 of  affusion  instead  of  trine  immersion. — While  the  yoke  of  the  Mongols 
 was  pressing  most  heavily  on  Russia,  the  holy  Metropolitan  Peter,  1308, 
 was  faithful  guardian  and  comforter  of  his  flock.  He  it  was  who  obtained 
 from  the  Klian  Uzbeck  the  following  certificate:  "Let  no  one  injure 
 the  Catholic  Church,  the  Metropolitan  Peter,  the  archimandrites,  or  the 
 priests  in  Russia ;  let  their  lands  be  free  from  all  tax  and  tribute  ;  for 
 all  this  belongs  to  God,  and  these  people  by  their  prayers  preserve  us  : 
 whosoever  shall  take  anything  from  any  of  the  clergy,  let  him  restore  it 
 tlireefold;  whosoever  shall  speak  evil  of  the  Russian  Faith,  whosoever 
 shall  injure  any  church,  monastery,  or  chapel,  let  him  be  put  to  death.' 
 St.  Peter  also  transferred  his  seat  to  Moscow,  saying  :  "  My  bones  shall 
 remain  in  this  city,  prelates  shall  rejoice  to  dwell  in  it,  and  the  hands  oP 
 its  princes  shall  be  upon  the  necks  of  our  enemies." — Metropolitan  Alexis, 
 1353,  during  his  primacy  of  twenty-nine  years,  had  truly  taken  the  helm 
 of  the  empire,  and  his  sanctity  became  conspicuous  even  in  the  Horde 
 itself,  so  that  the  Khan  Khanibeck  requested  him  to  come  that  he  might 
 heal  his  consort  Taidoula  of  her  sickness.  The  result  of  this  journey  was 
 extraordinary  favour  shown  to  the  Metropolitan,  and  new  letters  of 
 privilege  and  exemption  to  the  clergy  were  granted  to  him.  At  home  St. 
 Alexis  had  been  a  strict  reformer  of  the  morals  both  of  the  clergy  and 
 laity,  whom  he  endeavoured  to  enlighten  ;  he  was  also  a  peace-maker 
 between  princes,  and  by  him  were  the  foundations  of  the  unification  of 
 the  empire  around  Moscow  cemented  and  strengthened. 
 
 The  desolation  produced  by  the  invasion  of  the  Tartars  and  by  their 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  427 
 
 continual  re-incursions,  wliile  monasteries  had  been  so  much  favoured  by 
 khans  witli  all  kinds  of  exemptions,  had  increased  the  number  of  monas- 
 teries to  a  very  large  extent,  but  with  the  name  of  Sergius  a  new  monastic 
 world  opens  itself  in  the  North.  The  commencement  of  his  lonely  her- 
 mitage in  the  woods  near  Moscow  is  a  point  of  as  great  an  importance  in 
 the  history  of  Russian  Church  and  state  as  the  excavation  of  the  caves 
 of  Antony  on  the  banks  of  the  Dnieper.  He,  with  St.  Antony,  is  the 
 father  of  monasticism  in  Russia.  Prelates  and  princes  had  applied  to 
 him  not  only  for  spiritual  personal  instruction,  but  also  to  obtain  from  him 
 teachers  trained  to  perfection  by  his  converse  in  solitude,  and  capable  of 
 influencing  others  by  their  good  example.  Thus  our  unhappy  country, 
 which  had  been  suffering  so  long  under  the  Tartar-plague,  began  to  revive 
 again.  This  St,  Sergius,  at  the  very  moment  of  a  very  decisive  battle  of 
 Dmitry  Donskoy  on  the  field  of  Koulikovo,  1380,  which  first  shook  the 
 empire  of  the  Mongols  over  Russia,  was  supporting  the  prince  with  his 
 prayer,  while  his  two  monks,  Peresvet  and  Osliab,  had  fought  in  the  ranks, 
 the  first  beginning  the  engagement  by  a  single  combat  with  a  gigantic 
 Tartar,  the  champion  of  the  Horde,  and  being  the  precursor  of  those 
 hero-monks  of  the  Trinity  Lavra  who  so  gloriously  distinguished  themselves 
 later  on  in  the  days  of  no  less  danger  and  distress  to  the  country. — Metro- 
 politan Cyprian  (1390),  during  eighteen  years  of  his  episcoi)ate,  had  been 
 in  the  full  sense  Metropolitan  of  all  Russia,  notwithstanding  the  cruel 
 separation  between  Lithuania  and  Moscow,  and  having  gained  the  affection 
 of  all  the  bishops  beyond  the  Dnieper,  and  a  respect  even  of  Prince  Olgerd 
 himself,  and  his  successor  Vitovt,  had  preserved  orthodoxy  throughout  the 
 whole  of  the  southern  districts,  thus  frustrating  the  designs  of  Pope 
 Gregory  XL,  who  had  already  erected  four  Latin  dioceses  of  Peremyshl, 
 Kholm,  Vladimir,  and  Lvoff.  He  was  instrumental  in  bringing  turbulent 
 Novgorod  under  the  influence  of  the  Prince  of  Moscow,  and  left  behind 
 him  (1407)  the  lives  of  SS,  Peter  and  Alexis,  his  predecessors,  as  well  as 
 a  collection  of  chronicles. — Whilst  Russia  had  been  so  frequently  de- 
 vastated by  the  Tartars,  the  Turks  were  almost  surrounding  Constantinople, 
 and  the  Greek  Emperor  John,  seeing  no  means  of  deliverance  within  his 
 empire,  sought  for  aid  from  the  Western  Powers,  and  Pope  Eugenius  IV. 
 proposed  to  him  to  call  a  Council  in  Italy  for  the  reunion  of  the  Churches, 
 promising,  if  it  were  agreed  to,  to  save  Constantinople  from  the  Turks. 
 The  Emperor  with  the  Patriarch  and  selected  clergy  sailed  for  Venice, 
 and  Isidor,  a  friend  of  the  Pope,  was  sent  to  Russia  as  her  Metropolitan. 
 He  was  received  both  at  Kiev  and  Moscow,  but  when  he  so  soon  after 
 his  arrival  wanted  also  to  go  to  Eerrara  to  attend  the  Council,  the  Grand 
 Duke  Basil  only  reluctantly  consented,  beseeching  the  Metropolitan  to 
 stand  firm  in  defence  of  the  doctrines  of  orthodoxy.  When,  however,  on 
 his  return  to  Moscow  in  1440,  he  let  the  acts  of  the  Council  of  Elorence 
 be  proclaimed  by  the  archdeacon,  Basil  called  him  a  traitor  to  the  cause 
 of  orthodoxy  and  a  false  pastor.     The  council  of  bishops  and  boyars, 
 
428  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 with  one  accord,  rejected  the  Western  doctrine,  and  with  the  flight  of 
 Isidor  to  Rome  terminated  yet  another  attempt  to  subject  Russia  to  the 
 see  of  Rome.  From  1453,  on  account  of  the  fall  of  the  Greek  Empire, 
 all  the  Metropolitans  had  been  appointed  by  a  council  of  Russian  bishops, 
 but  on  all  possible  opportunities  the  Patriarchs  communicated  with  the 
 Metropolitans  of  Russia  either  by  letter  or  through  the  bishops  sent  in 
 person  from  one  to  another  ;  from  this  time  also  dates  their  new  style 
 *'  of  Metropolitans  of  all  Russia,"  instead  of  the  former  "  of  Kiev,"  the 
 latter,  under  Lithuania,  having  also  begun  a  regular  succession  of  her  own 
 Metropolitans. 
 
 With  the  accession  of  John  III,  1462,  almost  the  whole  of  Russia  proper 
 became  united  under  one  sceptre,  and  the  Horde  disrupted  into  three 
 ])arts ;  the  end  of  the  Tartar  yoke  over  Russia  was  already  looming  in  the 
 distance.  And  the  Church,  whilst  continuing  to  help  the  state  in  purifica- 
 tion and  consolidation  of  the  empire,  began  to  look  to  the  eradication  of 
 the  evils  produced  by  the  dark  ages.  Metropolitan  Theodosius,  1462, 
 raised  his  voice  against  the  relaxation  in  the  morals  of  the  clergy,  in  con- 
 secjuence  of  the  great  increase  of  private  churches  (the  end  of  the  world 
 being  expected,  every  one,  who  had  the  means,  built  a  church  of  his  own). 
 But  yet  another  attempt  on  the  part  of  Pope  Paul  to  bring  Russia  into  the 
 subjection  of  Rome,  by  means  of  marriage  of  John  III.  with  the  Princess 
 Sophia,  was  frustrated,  the  legate  refusing  to  enter  into  controversy  with  the 
 Metropolitan  Philip,  1467,  on  the  ground  of  not  having  his  books  with 
 him.  It  was  Vassian,  the  Bishop  of  Rostov,  and  Metropolitan  Gerontius, 
 who  made  John  III.  return  to  the  camp  against  Ahmet,  the  last  remnant 
 of  the  Tartars,  the  latter  having  then  fled  without  fighting,  and  Russia  was 
 thus  freed  from  them  for  ever.  "Dost  thou  dread  death?"  wrote  the 
 bishop.  "  Thou  too  must  die  as  well  as  others ;  death  is  the  lot  of  all, 
 man,  beast,  and  bird  alike ;  none  can  avoid  it.  Give  these  warriors  to  me, 
 and  old  as  I  am,  I  will  not  spare  myself,  nor  will  ever  turn  my  back  to  the 
 Tartars."  A  trait,  characteristic  of  Russian  bisliops,  may  here  be  mentioned 
 in  connection  with  the  Metropolitan  Gerontius  (although  it  is  frequently 
 observed  both  in  the  previous — notably  St.  Peter — and  later  history — par- 
 ticularly Nicon — of  Russia).  This  prelate  would  rather  retire  to  a  monastery 
 to  end  his  days  in  peace,  than  continue  a  misunderstanding  with  the  prince. 
 —  Novgorod  and  Pskoff,  situated  as  they  were  so  far  to  the  north,  and  having 
 not  sutfered  from  the  Tartars,  had  long  preceded  even  the  Protestant  Re- 
 formation with  their  sects  of  Strigolnicks  (1371)  and  of  Judaisers.  While 
 the  first  rejected  hierarchy,  and  consecjuently  the  Church,  with  all  the  cere- 
 monies and  rites,  the  latter  went  further,  and  may  be  looked  upon  as 
 the  precursors  of  Unitarians  of  our  day.  In  the  council  of  1494  against 
 the  latter,  St.  Joseph  of  Volokolamsk  —  most'  enlightened  and  learned  man 
 of  his  time,  his  convincing  and  forcible  letters  being  the  scourge  of  the 
 heresy — triumpiiantly  defended  the  j^ure  and  orthodox  faith.  Yet  as  a 
 consequence  of  the  dark  ages,  and  notwithstanding  the  great  increase  of 
 
THE   ORTUODOX-CATHOUC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  429 
 
 monasteries  in  the  reign  of  Basil,  gross  errors  had  crept  into  the  Church 
 itself,  and  the  written  books  required  correction.  With  this  end  in  view, 
 a  learned  monk  from  the  monastery  of  Athos  was  sent,  at  the  request  of  the 
 great  prince  Basil,  in  15 11,  and  a  beginning  of  the  arrangement  of  the 
 library  of  MSS.  as  well  as  of  correction  of  books  was  made.  John  the 
 Terrible  (1547)  called  a  synod  of  all  the  bishops,  under  Macarius  in  155 1, 
 to  correct  the  errors  in  the  performance  of  the  Divine  service,  and  the 
 following  is  the  affecting  speech  with  which  he  opened  the  session  : — 
 
 "  My  fathers,  pastors,  and  teachers,  see  now  every  one  of  you  what 
 counsel  or  discernment  is  in  him,  and  pray  God  at  the  same  time  for 
 His  merciful  aid.  Stir  up  your  understandings,  and  enlighten  your- 
 selves with  sound  knowledge  as  to  all  the  divinely  inspired  ordinances,  so 
 as  to  discern  in  what  way  the  Lord  hath  delivered  them  ;  and  me,  your 
 .son,  enlighten  and  instruct  to  all  godliness,  as  it  ought  to  be  with  religious 
 /cings,  in  all  righteous  laws  for  the  kingdom,  in  all  soundness  of  faith  and 
 jjurity  ;  and  be  ye  not  slack  to  establish  the  whole  of  orthodox  Christianity, 
 that  we  may  keep  the  law  of  Christ  in  all  its  truth,  perfect  and  inviolate. 
 I,  for  my  part,  shall  always  be  ready,  as  with  one  soul,  to  join  and  support 
 you  either  in  correcting  what  is  amiss,  or  confirming  what  is  well  estab- 
 lished, according  as  the  Holy  Ghost  shall  show  you.  If  so  be  that  I 
 should  ever  oppose  you,  contrary  to  the  letter  or  spirit  of  the  Divine 
 canons,  do  not  je  hold  your  peace  at  it.,  but  rebuke  me  ;  if  I  shall  still  be  dis- 
 obedient, inhibit  me  without  any  jnanner  of  fear  ;  so  shall  my  soul  live,  and 
 the  souls  of  all  my  subjects.''^ 
 
 The  council  approved  also  the  new  statute  book  of  civil  laws  which  was 
 submitted  for  revision.  One  hundred  questions  relating  to  the  external 
 and  internal  discipline  of  the  Church,  to  the  Church  courts,  the  monastic 
 state,  the  ceremonies,  the  chant,  the  icons,  the  sign  of  the  cross,  the  cor- 
 rection of  the  books,  the  morals  of  the  clergy,  the  letters  of  exemption  from 
 jurisdiction,  the  property  of  the  Church,  the  eradication  of  many  super- 
 stitions, etc.,  were  put  to  the  Assembly.  The  Council  of  the  Hundred 
 Chapters  ^  gave  a  lengthy  answer  in  writing  ;  but,  although  the  text  was 
 revised  by  Josaphat,  though  the  council  was  presided  over  by  Macarius 
 (author  of  the  eloquent  Chetee-Mineyi — Hagiographa),  and  had  for  its 
 object  the  eradication  of  superstitions  and  abuses,  the  prejudices  and 
 ignorance  of  the  dark  age  of  John  showed  themselves  in  some  of  the 
 acts  of  this  council.  In  this  way  certain  superstitious  customs  and  local 
 errors  were  clothed  with  the  sanction  of  authority,  and,  taking  root,  had 
 produced  those  pernicious  schisms  (Raskolniks  or  Staroviery)  with  which 
 the  Church  is  even  yet  affected,  while  the  correction  of  books  was,  on 
 account  of  troubled  times,  put  off  until  the  time  of  Patriarch  Nicon,  though 
 some  of  his  predecessors  had  already  made  slight  advances  towards  his 
 great  work.  It  is  very  singular  that  no  original  acts  had  been  preserved, 
 no  signatures  are  extant,  no  chronicles  make  any  mention  of  this  council ; 
 ^  Hence  the  name  by  which  the  Council  is  known. 
 
43©  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 even  Macarius  himself  does  not  say  a  word  about  it  in  his  book  of 
 genealogies.  It  must  also  be  mentioned  that  Archpriest  Silvester  was  the 
 guiding  spirit  of  John  at  that  time.  Macarius  was  the  first  to  establish  in 
 Moscow  the  first  printing  press,  and  had  caused  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles 
 and  Epistles  to  be  printed  ;  but  the  entire  Bible  in  Slavonian,  owing  to  a 
 superstitious  prejudice  against  printing,  was  printed  by  the  illustrious 
 Prince  Constantine  of  Ostrog,  Deputy-governor  of  Kiev. 
 
 When  John  became  mad,  after  the  loss  of  his  gentle  consort  Anastasia, 
 and  when  thousands  of  innocent  persons  were  made  victims  of  his  suspicion 
 and  rage,  St.  Philip  the  Metropolitan  (1565),  raised  the  voice  of  exhortation 
 and  rebuke  :  "  For  silence,"  he  said,  "lays  sin  upon  the  soul,  and  brings 
 death  upon  the  whole  people."  On  another  occasion  he  said:  "I  do  not 
 recognise  the  Tsar  in  any  such  dress  ;  I  do  not  recognise  him  either  in  the 
 acts  of  his  government.  .  .  .  Here  we  are  oftering  up  the  bloodless 
 sacrifice  to  the  Lord,  while  behind  the  altar  there  is  flowing  the  innocent 
 blood  of  Christian  men."  To  menaces  he  replied  :  "  I  am  a  stranger  and 
 a  pilgrim  upon  the  earth,  as  all  my  fathers  were,  and  I  am  ready  to 
 suffer  for  the  truth.  Where  would  be  my  faith  if  I  kept  silence  ?  "  ]ieing 
 dragged  from  the  cathedral  in  a  shirt  only,  "  Pray,"  he  called  to  the  people, 
 (not  rise  up  against  the  anointed  one).  "  I  rejoice  that  I  had  received 
 all  this  for  the  sake  of  the  Church.  Alas  !  the  times  of  her  widowhood  are 
 coming,  when  her  shepherds  shall  be  despised  as  hirelings."  A  simple 
 hermit  offered  John  at  Pskoflf  a  piece  of  raw  flesh.  "  I  am  a  Christian," 
 said  John  in  astonishment,  "  and  do  not  eat  flesh  during  the  great  fast." 
 "  At  all  events  thou  drinkest  man's  blood,"  was  the  hermit's  reply,  and 
 John  fled  from  Pskoff  without  exterminating  the  city,  as  otherwise  might 
 have  been  the  case. — Politically,  however,  Russia  was  greatly  extended 
 during  this,  in  its  later  stage  so  baneful,  reign  ;  not  only  the  kingdom  of 
 Kazan,  but  the  whole  of  Siberia  and  Tberia  were  added  to  the  empire. 
 
 It  was  only  after  such  an  extension  of  her  dominions,  and  after  more 
 than  a  century  of  complete  subjugation  of  the  Eastern  patriarchs  by  the 
 Turks,  that  Russia  sought  for  and  obtained  independence  of  her  Church 
 from  that  of  Constantinople.  In  15S7,  with  the  consent  of  all  the  Orthodox 
 Churches  in  the  East,  and  with  the  actual  participation  in  consecration  on 
 the  part  of  Jercmia  II.  of  Constantinople,  the  Metropolitan  Job  of  Moscow 
 was  elevated  to  tlie  dignity  and  received  the  title  of  Patriarch  of  Russia  ; 
 i)ut  this  did  not  change  matters  internally,  the  ne.v  Patriarch  remaining  in 
 exactly  the  same  jwsition  with  regard  to  other  bishops  as  when  he  was 
 their  Metropolitan  ;  only  the  independence  of  the  Russian  Church  was  thus 
 proclaimed,  and  the  event  may  have  been  providentially  instrumental 
 during  the  succeeding  cjuarter  of  a  century  in  preserving  the  unity  and  in- 
 dependence of  the  Russian  state. 
 
 Rome,  who  had  always  kept  her  watchful  eye  on  Russia  for  an  opportu- 
 nity of  subjugating  this  rising  stronghold  of  orthodoxy,  and  had  the  Jesuit 
 Antony  Possevin  accredited  for  several  years  as  her  special  ambassador  at 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  431 
 
 the  court  of  John  the  Terrible  duruig  the  worst  part  of  his  life,  although 
 still  without  success,  had  now  undertaken  the  most  determined  attempt 
 to  carry  out  her  design.  Little  Russia,  now  entirely  separated  from  Great 
 Russia  and  under  Lithuanians,  had  proved,  already  in  the  hands  of  the  wily 
 Jesuit  (as  he  was  going  to  and  fro),  to  be  of  a  more  pliable  stuff  than  the 
 Great  Russians,  and  the  seed  of  discord  sown  by  him  and  watered  by  a 
 whole  army  of  Dominicans  who  invaded  the  country,  seemed  likely  soon 
 to  bear  the  fruit.  It  required  only  a  little,  usual  for  Rome,  pressure  in  the 
 shape  of  deprivation  of  property  and  all  civil  rights,  of  some  deaths  by 
 torture  and  fire,  to  make  the  fruit  ripe  for  the  harvest  which  in  1596  pro- 
 duced the  Church  of  Uniates.  Of  these  nothing  was  at  first  demanded  but 
 the  recognition  of  the  papal  power;  yet  against  their  return,  of  their  own 
 free  will,  to  the  pale  of  the  Orthodox  Church,  after  more  than  two  centuries 
 of  forcible  subjugation  to  the  Church  of  Rome,  first  in  1839  and  again  in 
 the  reign  of  the  late  Emperor  Alexander  I L — incapable  of  any  coercion — 
 such  an  outcry  had  been  raised  in  the  West.  But  even  in  Little  Russia 
 there  remained  a  large,  faithful  band  of  the  orthodox,  who  were  supported 
 by  such  champions  as  Bishops  Gedeon  and  Michael,  and  the  aged  Prince 
 Constantine  of  Ostrog,  and  who  had  struggled  to  the  bitter  end  against 
 overwhelming  odds  and  all  kinds  of  persecutions. — Having  established  such 
 a  firm  footing  in  the  south,  Rome  attempted  again  to  submit  to  herself 
 Great  Russia  also.  With  this  end  in  view,  the  vacant  throne  of  Poland  was 
 offered  to  Tsar  Theodor  ;  but  he  who  had  just  made  the  Russian  Church 
 independent,  by  elevating  Metropolitan  Job  to  be  the  Patriarch  of  Moscow, 
 could  not  of  course  be  induced  to  relinquish  the  faith  of  his  fathers. 
 Peaceful  and  overt  means  having  failed,  others,  more  Jesuitical,  were  had 
 recourse  to,  and  the  circumstances  favoured  these  plans.  The  greatest 
 calamity  of  Tsar  Theodor's  reign  was  the  murder  of  his  brother  Dmitry, 
 the  last  descendant,  after  six  centuries,  of  the  Ruric's  dynasty.  When, 
 therefore,  in  15  98,  Tsar  Theodor  himself  died  childless,  there  arose  an 
 interregnum  which  lasted  until,  in  1613,  the  present  dynasty,  that  of 
 Romanoff,  was  proclaimed  in  the  person  of  Michael,  who  was  distantly 
 related  to  the  Ruric's  house,  on  which  account  also  both  his  father  and 
 mother  were  interred  in  monasteries  by  the  ambitious  Boris  Godounoff, 
 brother-in-law  of  the  late  Tsar  and  his  successor,  to  whose  charge  the 
 murder  of  Dmitry  is  laid. — Already,  soon  after  Boris's  accession,  rumour 
 was  spread  that  Dmitry  was  still  alive,  and  a  person  of  the  name  of  Otre- 
 piefir,  who  resembled  the  murdered  child,  was  discovered  by  Jesuits,  and, 
 supported  by  the  arms  of  Poland,  he  succeeded  in  reaching  Moscow  and 
 getting  possession  of  the  throne  of  the  Tsars.  When  this  pretender  lost  his 
 life  on  account  of  his  attempts  to  introduce  the  Latin  faith,  another  and  a 
 third  were  substituted.  In  this  way  the  state  had  become  completely  dis- 
 organized, but  again,  thanks  to  the  Church  and  the  people  at  large,  the 
 state  came  out  victorious  and  independent,  and  the  orthodox  faith  re- 
 mained unimpaired.     When  assailed  by  miscreants  in  the  cathedral  during 
 
432  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 liturgy,  and  his  pontifical  robes  were  torn  from  him,  the  Patriarch  Job,  lay- 
 ing his  Panagia  on  the  icon  of  the  Holy  Virgin,  exclaimed  :  "  For  twenty- 
 nine  years  have  I  preserved  the  purity  of  the  faith  ;  I  now  see  that  misery 
 is  coming  upon  the  kingdom,  that  fraud  and  heresy  are  to  triumph.  O 
 Mother  of  God,  do  thou  preserve  the  orthodox  faith  '  "  His  successor, 
 Hermoghen,  being  requested  by  Saltikoff  to  forbid  the  general  rising 
 against  the  Poles,  who  now  wanted  their  king's  son  to  become  the  Tsar  of 
 Russia,  replied  :  "  I  will  forbid  it  when  I  see  Vladislav  baptized,  and  the 
 Poles  evacuating  the  country;  if  this  is  not  to  be,  I  enjoin  on  all  to  rise, 
 and  absolve  them  from  their  oath  to  the  king's  son."  "  I  oppose  this  sign 
 (of  the  cross)  against  thy  (Saltikoffs,  who  lifted  his  dagger  against  the  old 
 man)  audacity.  All  will  be  quiet,  if  thou,  O  traitor,  will  only  remove  thy- 
 self with  thy  Lithuanians.  As  for  me,  I  give  my  blessing  to  all  who  are 
 ready  to  die  for  the  orthodox  faith,  for  I  see  it  insulted." 
 
 Troitskaya  (Trinity)  Lavra  for  eighteen  months  withstood  the  siege  of  the 
 Poles,  and  to  the  offer  of  protection  from  Sweden,  the  Hegumen  Antony  re- 
 plied :  "  No  stranger  should  ever  be  the  Tsar  of  Russia  ; "  and  that  "  the 
 Lavra  stood  in  no  need  of  his  (the  king  of  Sweden's)  soldiers."  In  the  mean- 
 time the  Solovetskya  Lavra  opposed  the  Swedish  army  in  the  north.  Archi- 
 mandrite Dionysius  of  the  Troitskaya  Lavra  took  care  of  the  people  who 
 fled  from  the  capital,  turned  the  whole  convent  into  an  hospital  for  the 
 sufferers,  and  sent  out  letters  in  all  directions  urging  co-operation  with  the 
 general  rising,  and  gave  supplies  to  those  who  were  besieging  Moscow,  At 
 Nijni-Novgorod  the  spark  of  pure  self-devotion  broke  out  in  the  heart  of 
 a  citizen  Minin,  whose  example  was  responded  to  by  the  whole  nation. 
 Under  the  command  of  Prince  Pojarsky  was  concentrated  the  military 
 force  which  was  destined  to  free  the  country.  The  unceasing  entreaties  of 
 the  Hegumen  Dionysius  and  Abram  the  Bursar  moved  the  prince  to  dis- 
 regard danger  under  the  walls  of  Moscow.  Abram  was  himself  constantly 
 with  the  armies,  and  was  not  less  active  and  efficient  a  leader  than  Prince 
 Pojarsky  and  citizen  Minin.  The  synod  and  the  council,  which  were 
 called  together  for  the  purpose  of  electing  a  new  sovereign,  spoke  as  one 
 man  for  Michael  Romanoff;  the  Bursar  announced  the  election  to  the 
 people  from  the  public  place,  and  the  people  also,  as  with  one  voice,  re- 
 echoed the  same  name.  Letters  statutory  of  the  whole  synod  of  the 
 clergy  and  of  the  council  put  seal  to  the  election  of  the  Romanoffs,  by 
 establishing  for  ever  the  right  of  a  hereditary  autocracy.  The  Emperor  of 
 Russia  is,  therefore,  an  elect  of  the  people  and  their  representative. 
 
 Even  a  worm  is  said  to  turn  against  its  tormentors,  and  after  all  these 
 incursions  of  foreigners,  Russia  could  not  but  feel  sick  of  everything  out- 
 landish, and  stick  to  her  old  traditions  and  ways.  At  the  same  time  the 
 worse  than  iron  yoke  of  over  two  centuries'  duration,  left  much  more 
 lamentable  consequences  and  a  deeper  impress,  in  the  general  ignorance. 
 Thus,  on  the  one  hand  we  find  a  continuous,  almost  uninterrupted  call  of 
 foreigners,  long  before  Peter  the  Great,  and   even  the  Romanoff  dynasty 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  433 
 
 could  be  dreamed  of,  on  the  part  of  the  rulers ;  yet,  on  the  other,  we  dis- 
 cover still  greater  tendency  to  conservatism,  to  the  preservation  of  old 
 national  forms,  habits  and  customs,  even  in  their  worst  state  and  condi- 
 tion. It  is  difficult  to  realize  to  what  extent  of  anarchy  and  disorganiza- 
 tion the  Russian  state  had  been  reduced  by  the  frightful  interregnum  and 
 the  invasion  of  the  Poles,  who,  for  some  ten  years,  were  almost  complete 
 masters  of  the  land.  Truly,  by  Russia's  faith  only  is  our  state  free  and 
 stable  ;  but  for  the  Church  and  people's  faith  there  would  not  have  re- 
 mained a  vestige  of  the  kingdom  of  the  Tsars,  No  wonder,  therefore,  that 
 Russia,  on  the  one  hand,  should  have  found  herself,  on  account  of  the 
 almost  continually  disturbed  state,  in  a  great  spiritual  darkness,  and,  on  the 
 other,  should  have  conceived  an  utter  dislike  to  all  foreign  influences.  The 
 latter  we  shall  see  in  the  dislike  against  Nicon,  and  the  opposition  with 
 which  Peter  the  Great  had  had  to  deal  ;  the  first,  in  the  gross  errors  which 
 had  long  crept,  not  only  into  the  MSS.,  but  also  into  the  books  printed 
 under  Patriarchs  Job  and  Hermoghen,  and  both  combined  in  the  Starovery 
 (Old  Believers)  of  the  present  day. 
 
 Now  that  peace  and  organization  were  being,  by  slow  degrees,  re- 
 established, the  Church  again  turned  her  attention  to  the  correction  of 
 errors  in  the  service-books.  Dionysius,  with  his  brotherhood  of  the 
 Troitskaya  Lavra,  undertook  the  task  by  comparing  the  latter  with  the 
 manuscripts  brought  by  the  learned  Greek,  Maximus,  and  with  the  others 
 which  were  preserved  in  the  Lavra.  But  when  he  decided  to  leave  out 
 the  words  "  by  fire,"  in  the  office  for  the  blessing  of  waters,  there  arose 
 a  great  agitation,  as  the  people  absurdly  imagined  and  accused  him  of 
 a  device  to  extirpate  the  element  of  fire  from  the  land.  Only  the  pre- 
 sence of  Theophanes,  Patriarch  of  Jerusalem,  who  happened  to  be  on  a 
 visit  at  the  time,  brought  peace  to  the  Church.  He  prevailed  on  the 
 fother  of  the  Tsar,  Metropolitan  Philaret,  who  for  nine  years  had  been  kept 
 in  captivity  in  Poland,  and  elevated  him  to  the  dignity  of  Patriarch  of 
 Moscow,  thus  bringing  about  an  event  unique  in  the  annals  of  the  world  : 
 in  no  country  has  there  ever  been  seen  that  a  father  as  patriarch  and  his 
 son  as  sovereign  were  governing  the  kingdom  together.  The  same  Theo- 
 phanes had  also  done  much  for  the  Orthodox  Church  in  Little  Russia.  On 
 his  return  from  Moscow,  he  stopped  at  Kiev  and  gave  to  the  Brotherhood 
 of  the  Epiphany  there  his  benediction  for  the  institution  of  a  school  for 
 the  Greco-Slavonic  and  the  Latin-Polish  languages,  and  of  an  academical 
 inn  for  poor  scholars.  He,  too,  restored  all  the  vacant  dioceses  by  con- 
 secrating a  Metropolitan  for  Kiev,  and  bishops  for  the  sees  of  Polotsk, 
 \"ladimir  in  Volhynia,  Loutsk,   Peremyshl,  Kholm  and  Pinsk. 
 
 This  good  beginning  with  the  education  and  the  hierarchy  was  soon  taken 
 u})  and  carried  to  a  very  high  state  of  perfection  by  Peter  Mogila.  A  son 
 of  the  Hospodar  of  Moldavia,  educated  in  the  celebrated  University  of 
 Paris,  and  a  distinguished  soldier,  he  settled  later  in  the  Petcherskaya  Lavra, 
 and  from  thence  he  began  to  send  forth  some  chosen  students  to  foreign 
 VOL.  I. — pt.  2.  G  G 
 
434  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 countries  to  complete  their  education.  He  showed  himself  a  powerful 
 defender  of  orthodoxy  in  the  Diet  of  Warsaw,  and  obtained  from  the  new 
 king  the  restoration  of  many  churches,  convents,  and  properties,  as  well  as 
 the  freedom  to  establish  seminaries,  schools,  and  printing  presses.  Having 
 been  elected,  in  1632,  Metropolitan  of  Kiev,  he  yet  with  greater  zeal  de- 
 voted himself  to  the  promotion  of  learning  among  tlie  clergy,  united  his 
 school  with  that  of  the  Brotherhood  of  the  Epiphany,  erected  new  buildings 
 at  liis  own  expense,  and  a  preparatory  school,  established  a  library  and  a 
 printing  press,  and  obtained  from  the  king  for  his  school  the  title  of 
 Spiritual  Academy,  which  for  a  long  time  had  been  known  as  the  Kievo- 
 Mogolian,  served  as  model  for  those  which  were  established  later  in  Great 
 Russia,  and  exists  at  the  present  day.  From  his  printing  press  he  was 
 constantly  sending  forth  works  of  the  holy  fathers,  and  books  of  services 
 of  the  Church,  and  his  larger  Trebnik  or  office-book  became  the  model  for 
 the  performance  of  the  orthodox  service ;  but  the  most  important  act  for 
 the  confirmation  ol  his  distracted  flock  had  been  the  Orthodox  Confession 
 of  Faith,  Avritten  partly  by  himself  and  partly  by  the  Archimandrite  Isaiah 
 Trophimovitch,  under  his  direction.  Revised  by  the  council  of  bishops, 
 the  book  which  was  to  counteract  the  subtle  discourses  of  the  Jesuits,  as 
 well  as  the  new  doctrine  of  Calvin,  which  had  been  sown  under  the  name 
 of  Cyril  Lucar,  Patriarch  of  Constantinople,  was  translated  into  the  modern 
 Greek,  finally  corrected  by  Meletius  Striga  at  the  Synod  of  Yassi,  and  re- 
 turned to  Kiev  by  the  Eastern  patriarchs  with  their  letters  of  approval, 
 after  the  death  (1647)  of  the  celebrated  Metropolitan.  Favourable  as  this 
 period  of  the  history  of  Little  Russia  had  been  for  the  improvement  of 
 clerical  learning,  the  sufferings  of  the  orthodox  there  from  the  civil 
 power  were  intense,  nothwithstanding  the  benevolent  views  of  the  king, 
 and  the  Great  Russia  herself  was  too  weak  at  the  time  to  come  to  the 
 rescue  of  the  Cosaks  who  would  not  be  induced  to  Latinize  themselves, 
 but  who  in  vain  appealed  to  her  for  i)rotection. 
 
 The  Great  Russia,  in  the  meantime,  was  too  busy  with  healing  the  deep 
 wounds  inflicted  on  Ikt  by  the  foreign  invasion,  and  could  not,  in  her  un- 
 settled state,  do  much  for  the  advancement  of  learning.  The  first  part  of 
 the  reign  of  the  Tsar  Alexis  (1646),  which  lasted  for  .sixteen  years,  recalled 
 to  mind  the  troubled  beginning  of  his  father's.  In  his  inexperienced  youth 
 he  had  been  led  by  his  Boyars  at  their  will.  One  of  the  lasting  memorials 
 of  this  time,  however,  was  the  codification  of  laws  ;  but  still  more  remark- 
 able was  the  appearance  of  Patriarch  Nicon,  a  most  able  and  distinguished 
 man,  of  whom  history  has  not  yet  said  her  last  word.  Born  of  simple 
 villagers,  he,  in  his  very  youth,  wanted  to  devote  himself  to  monasticism, 
 and  throughout  his  life  of  threescore  and  ten,  remained  an  ascetic  in  his 
 habits ;  but  his  noble  height  and  bearing,  coupled  with  extraordinary  elo- 
 quence, struck  the  Tsar  (at  an  accidental  meeting),  who  found  in  him  a 
 great  zeal  for  the  Church,  and  the  loftiest  views,  not  only  of  ecclesiastical, 
 but  of  political  matters  also,  and,  having  made  him  archimandrite  of  the 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  435 
 
 Novospafsky  monastery,  accustomed  himself  to  be  guided  by  his  sage 
 counsels.  As  Metropolitan  of  Novgorod,  to  which  post  he  was  ap- 
 pointed after  three  years'  stay  in  Moscow,  when  he  every  Friday  came 
 regularly  to  converse  with  the  Tsar,  he  had  proved  that  the  confidence 
 placed  in,  and  the  unusual  authority  granted,  him  (namely  that  of  judging 
 even  in  civil  matters  affecting  persons  connected  with  the  Church,  and  of 
 entering  prisons  and  releasing  the  innocent  on  personal  examination),  were 
 completely  justified.  During  the  great  famine  which  devastated  Novgorod, 
 Nicou  had  four  alms-houses  built,  daily  fed  the  poor  in  his  own  court-yard, 
 and,  in  the  midst  of  a  dreadful  insurrection,  whilst  in  Pskoff  the  irritated 
 populace  i)ut  to  death  their  governors  (voivodes), — in  Novgorod,  the 
 Metropolitan  went  out  himself  to  the  insurgents,  suffered  blows  until 
 scarcely  any  breath  was  left  in  him,  was  not  afraid  to  appear  afterwards 
 in  the  very  building  where  the  rebels  were  assembled,  and,  by  his  im- 
 movable firmness,  succeeded  at  last  in  quieting  the  storm,  people  in  peni- 
 tence coming  to  him  for  spiritual  absolution  and  for  the  pardon  of  the  Tsar. 
 His  pastoral  zeal  for  the  morals  of  the  clergy  and  flock,  and  for  the 
 magnificence  of  the  church  was  carried  to  the  highest  pitch :  himself 
 an  eloquent  and  fluent  extempore  preacher,  and  a  great  lover  of  order, 
 cleanliness,  and  magnificence,  he  absolutely  forbade  the  habit  of  allowing 
 intoning  and  singing  to  run  together,  and  introduced  a  sweeter  kind  of 
 chant.  An  austere  man  himself,  he  would  not  suffer  on  any  account 
 looseness  of  morals  among  his  clergy,  and  severely  punished  the  offenders. 
 Thus,  while  he  was  supported  in  all  his  measures  by  the  Tsar,  who  insisted 
 on  his  spending  every  winter  in  Moscow,  and  made  local  edicts  of  the 
 Metropolitan  into  general  law  throughout  his  dominions,  the  aged  Patriarch 
 Joseph  regarded  him  with  disfavour,  and  overlooked  the  greatest  abuses 
 admitted  by  Nicon's  enemies  in  printing  the  Psalter,  Kormchaya  (Nomo- 
 canon),  and  the  Catechism.  In  the  meantime  the  unavoidable  necessity 
 of  correcting  the  Church  books  became  so  evident,  and  want  of  education 
 so  much  felt,  that  the  Tsar  begged  the  Metropolitan  of  Kiev  to  send  him 
 some  monks  from  the  illustrious  academy.  A  pious  and  learned  Boyar, 
 Rtischeff,  founded  near  Moscow  a  convent  (the  germ  of  the  present 
 academy)  for  learned  monks  from  Little  Russia,  for  the  translation  of 
 ecclesiastical  works.  Arseny  Soukhanoft",  not  well  disposed  towards  the 
 Greeks,  was  dispatched  to  the  East  to  observe  on  the  spot  how  the  rule 
 of  the  Church  was  followed  by  the  four  Oecumenical  Thrones,  and  the 
 enemies  of  Nicon  found  in  the  description  of  the  journey  of  the  Bursar 
 sufficient  material  to  rise  in  opposition  to  the  jMetropolitan,  whom  they 
 accused  of  a  desire  to  conform  in  everything  with  the  Greek  Church. 
 Nicon,  therefore,  at  first  positively  refused  to  become  patriarch,  and  it 
 was  only  after  the  Tsar,  with  all  the  council  and  sj'nod,  before  the  relics 
 of  St.  Philip,  which  were  just  brought  to  Moscow  by  Nicon,  abjured  him 
 not  to  leave  the  Church  in  widowhood,  and  after  they  all  swore  that  they 
 "  would  always  honour  him  as  their  true  chief  shepherd  and  spiritual  pas- 
 
436  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 tor,  and  would  suffer  liim  to  regulate  the  affairs  of  the  Church,"  tiiat  he  at 
 last  declared  his  consent  to  undertake  the  high  office.  The  genius  and 
 enterprising  character  of  the  prelate  inspired  the  councils  of  the  Tsar,  and 
 were  reflected  in  the  glory  of  his  victories  over  the  neighbouring  powers, 
 so  that  the  six  years  of  the  patriarchal  rule  of  Nicon  formed  tlie  most 
 brilliant  period  of  his  reign.  The  Tsar  and  patriarch  became  so  mutually 
 attached  to  one  another  that  they  made  a  vow  never  to  desert  each  other 
 on  this  side  the  grave.  The  Patriarch's  attachment  to  the  Tsar  and  his 
 children,  to  whom  he  was  godfather,  knew  indeed  no  bounds,  and  the 
 courtiers  who  at  last  succeeded  in  encompassing  his  downfall,  dreaded 
 nothing  so  much  as  the  chance  of  his  personal  meeting  with  the  Tsar, 
 whose  tender  friendship  for  the  patriarch  never  left  him  to  the  day  of  his 
 death. 
 
 Shocked  at  discovering  gross  errors  introduced  into  the  recently  printed 
 books,  by  their  ignorant  and  unprincipled  editors,  Nicon  entreated  the 
 Tsar  to  convoke  a  council  in  his  palace,  and  obtained  the  following 
 reply  to  his  proposition  from  the  synod  :  "  It  is  meet  and  right  to  correct 
 the  new  books  by  the  old  Slavonic  and  Greek  MSS.,  that  we  may  in  all 
 things  follow  the  primitive  rule  of  the  Church."  It  was  decided  to  collect 
 not  only  all  the  MSS.  preserved  in  Russia,  but  to  apply  to  the  Churches  of 
 the  East  for  their  judgment  and  decision.  Paisius,  the  Patriarch  of  Con- 
 stantinople, confirmed  by  a  synodal  act  of  Greek  bishops  the  decision  of 
 the  Council  of  Moscow,  and  in  his  letter  to  Nicon,  whilst  entreating  him 
 not  to  depart  in  any  respect  from  the  rule  of  the  great  Church  of  Con- 
 stantinople, that  the  five  patriarchal  thrones  should  be  one,  not  only  in 
 doctrines  and  discipline,  but  also  in  their  very  ceremonies  and  rites,  and 
 whilst  applauding  his  zeal,  he  begged  him  to  be  indulgent  to  those  who 
 had  erred  in  some  unimportant  external  matters  only,  that  so  he  might  re- 
 tain them  within  the  pale  of  the  Church.  'I'he  arrival  in  Moscow  of  the 
 Patriarchs,  Macarius  of  Antioch,  and  Gabriel  of  Servia,  gave  Nicon  an 
 opportunity  for  holding  another  council  for  the  sake  of  adding  still  greater 
 authority  to  the  projected  undertaking.  Upon  this  decided  steps  were 
 taken  to  effect  tlie  necessary  correction  ;  but  there  had  been  no  such  pru- 
 dence observed  in  the  introduction  of  the  new  books  throughout  the 
 country,  and,  when  the  old  books  began  to  be  taken  forcibly  away,  there 
 immediately  arose  a  murmuring  among  the  people  ;  and  the  old  enemies 
 of  Nicon  im])Osed  on  the  ignorance  of  the  populace  by  calling  the  corrected, 
 "new"  books,  and,  as  such,  representing  them  to  be  unworthy  of  any  re- 
 spect. Thus  did  a  most  excellent  and  useful  undertaking  become  the 
 cause  of  unexpected  disturbances. 
 
 The  courtiers, — who  were  curtly  treated  by  the  patriarch,  and  made 
 to  feel  his  su|)criority  over  them,  particularly  during  the  two  years'  ab- 
 sence of  the  Tsar  from  the  capital  on  a  military  expedition,  when  Nicon 
 presided  over  their  council  standing,  or  made  them  wait  at  his  door  for 
 several  hours,  if  any  came  a  little  later  than  the  appointed  hour, — could 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  437 
 
 not  bear  liim.  And  the  clergy,  of  whom  he — the  strict  pattern  of  good 
 conduct  in  every  station  of  life — exacted  the  same  with  equal  rigidity, 
 punishing  intemperance,  and  every  violation  of  ecclesiastical  order,  with 
 stripes  and  imprisonment  (depriving  even  a  bishop  on  his  sole  authority), 
 and  whom  he  never  ordained  before  personally  examining  the  candidates 
 at  least  in  reading  and  writing,  did  not  appreciate  him.  They  both  united 
 in  a  general  outcry  against  the  self-willed  absolutism  of  the  patriarch.  And 
 the  latter, — when  his  only  real  friend,  the  Tsar,  discontinued  his  daily 
 intercourse  and  private  consultations  with  him,  and  set  aside  some  of  his 
 ecclesiastical  dispositions,  and  when  the  Council  of  the  Boyars  dared  to 
 act  with  greater  decision  in  the  monastery  court,  and  to  raise  questions 
 about  Church  properties  acquired  since  the  edicts  of  John  III.  to  the 
 contrary, — began  to  meditate  his  own  retirement.  He  could  not  stand  the 
 insolence  and  railleries  of  the  Boyars  against  himself  and  his  attendants, 
 and  at  last,  in  1658,  he  took  ofif  his  episcopal  robes,  and  declared  in  the 
 cathedral  that  from  thenceforth  he  was  no  longer  the  Patriarch  of  Moscow. 
 He  was  exhorted  to  remain  by  a  Boyar  from  the  Tsar,  but  stood  inflexible, 
 and  left  Moscow  for  a  not  distant  monastery  built  by  himself.  It  is  un- 
 necessary to  dwell  on  the  protracted  trial  which,  with  participation  ot 
 Eastern  patriarchs,  followed — his  deposition  and  banishment  to  Belo- 
 Ozero.  In  close  confinement  he  outlived  three  other  patriarchs,  and  the 
 Tsar  Alexis  himself, — who  had  continually  sent  him  presents  and  alms,  and 
 in  his  will  called  him  "  Father,  great  lord,  most  holy  pontiff,  and  most 
 blessed  pastor,"— and  was  allowed  to  return  to  the  ^Monastery  of  Resurrec- 
 tion, by  the  Tsar  Theodor,  only  to  die  on  the  road.  One  thing  is  certain, 
 that  Nicon  presents  an  entirely  new  figure  even  in  the  Russian  history. 
 With  such  extraordinary  talents,  iron  will,  and  inflexible,  though  hasty 
 character  which  he  possessed,  he  might,  had  he  been  a  Western  eccle- 
 siastic, have  conceived  the  idea  of  an  entire  independence  of  the  Church 
 from  the  state,  even  of  the  dominion  of  the  first  over  the  latter  ;  but  no 
 such  thought  had  ever  crossed  his  mind,  and  from  youth  to  his  death  he 
 remained  a  Christian  and  a  dutiful  subject. 
 
 The  same  ^council,  which  was  not  far  short  of  being  oecumenical,  and 
 which  sat  over  and  condemned  Nicon  for  his  arbitrary  acts,  confirmed, 
 however,  his  correction  of  books  as  perfectly  canonical  and  agreeable  to 
 tlie  spirit  of  the  Orthodox  Church.  It  rejected  and  condemned  the  vain 
 glosses  of  the  chief  supporters  of  the  old  books  respecting  the  position  ot 
 the  fingers,  the  correct  form  of  ihe  cross,  the  name  of  Jesus,  the  creed,  the 
 double  alleluia,  and  their  objections  to  the  Book  of  Skrijal  or  Table,  which 
 had  been  put  forth  by  his  authority.  A  new  book,  "  The  Staff  of  Rule," 
 printed  for  the  purpose  of  refutation  of  their  errors,  was  approved  by  this 
 council,  which  also  annulled  the  acts  of  the  Council  of  the  Hundred  Chap- 
 ters, that  gave  rise  to  all  the  vain  subdeties  in  question,  but  all  this  was  to 
 no  purpose.^     The  anathematized  adherents  of  these,  so  called,  old  ways 
 
 '  In  the  reign  of  the  humane  Catherine  II.,  by  Platon,  the  great  Metropolitan  of  Mos- 
 cow, and  author  of  the  History  of  the  Russian  Church  and  of  the  Orthodox  Catechism,  was 
 
438  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  teaching  had  spread  in  all  directions,  but  more  particularly  in  the  north, 
 where  Solovetskaya  Lavra  had  been  kept  by  them  for  over  ten  years,  and 
 where,  on  account  of  their  settling  themselves  along  the  coast,  they  were 
 called  Pomoriane,  alias  Bezpopovtsy,  viz.,  without  hierarchy,  and  in  Little 
 Russia,  in  the  settlement  of  Starodoubovo,  and  in  the  neighbouring  dis- 
 tricts of  Poland  on  the  river  Vetka,  these  being  known  under  the  de- 
 nomination of  Popovtsy,  viz.,  acknowledging  only  the  runaway  (from  the 
 Orthodox  Cliurch)  priests.  Both  are  the  products  of  ignorance,  and  are 
 still  depending  upon  it ;  but  for  both,  Nicon  and  Peter  the  Great  with  his 
 reforms  and  the  title  of  the  emperor,  remain  up  to  the  present  day  as  the 
 very  incarnations  of  the  evil  one,  the  Antichrists. 
 
 Now  the  Church  had  in  all  earnest  began  to  advance  the  learning.  The 
 brothers  Joannicius  and  Sophronius  Lichoudy, — who  were  sent  by  the 
 Patriarch  of  Constantinople  for  the  school  founded  at  Moscow  by  Philaret 
 and  enlarged  and  remodelled  by  Nicon, — established  the  Slaviano-Greco- 
 Russian  Academy,  which,  in  a  reformed  state,  still  exists,  and  Patriarch 
 Joachim  had  done  much  by  increasing  the  number  of  schools  throughout 
 the  empire.  He  reunited  the  Church  of  Little  Russia,  and  contemplated 
 even  the  establishment  of  as  many  as  fifty  new  episcopal  sees,  either 
 territorial  or  vicarial ;  but  the  death  of  Tsar  Theodor,  and  consequent  dis- 
 order and  agitation  into  which  Russia  had  again  been  plunged,  prevented 
 for  a  time  the  realization  of  the  project.  A  fresh  remodelling  of  the 
 state  and  Church  on  the  Western  sample  was  at  the  very  door.  Peter  the 
 Great  was  growing  up  and  getting  rid  of  tiie  trammels  set  before  him  by 
 his  sisters  (especially  Sophia),  his  first  wife  Eudoxia,  and  his  own  son  and 
 heir,  Alexis,  whose  death-warrant  he  himself  signed. 
 
 \\'ith  his  insatiable  thirst  for  knowledge,  and  with  a  spirit  which  knew 
 no  fatigue,  he  could  not  bear  the  rather  slow  progress  which  Russia  was 
 making  before  his  time.  Great  as  were  his  achievements  in  bringing 
 Russia  to  the  Baltic,  creating  a  fleet  and  an  army,  establishing  schools  and 
 generally  promoting  advancement  in  every  station  and  department  of 
 public  life,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  "the  window  to  the  West"  was  opened 
 by  him  a  little  too  wide  :  that  Russia  could  not  follow  the  impetuous  leader 
 with  anything  like  his  gigantic  strides  ;  and  that,  consequently,  the  reforms 
 of  foreign  growth,  transplanted  by  him  from  foreign  soils,  could  touch  Russia 
 but  very  superficially.  The  beards  and  coats  were  certainly  cut,  but 
 Russians  could  not  help  being  rather  slow  in  their  progress  and  movements 
 generally.  Such  a  man  could  not  of  course  be  ex])ected  to  run  the  risk  of 
 meeting  face  to  face  widi  another  imaginable  Nicon,  and  the  Russian 
 Patriarchate  was  doomed  from  the  very  moment  the  feeble  Adrian  X., 
 and  the  last  of  the  series,  gave  up  his  ghost  at  the  end  of  1700 ;  but  it  was 
 
 conceived,  and,  \;ndcr  ICnipcror  Nicolas,  carried  out  llic  idea  of  opening  tlie  dour  into 
 the  pale  of  tlie  Cliurch  to  tliese  scliisnialics,  l)y  foundinjj  churclies  in  wiiicli  tiie  (hily  c<jn- 
 secrated  priests  perform  the  services  by  the  same  old  liooks  and  with  exactly  the  same 
 ceremonies  and  rites  as  are  therein  prescribed,  tliere  being  no  difference  of  dogma  in- 
 volved.    But  the  measure  had  not  much  success. 
 
THE   ORTHODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  439 
 
 not  until  1721  ihat  the  "Most  Holy  Governing  Synod"  was  instituted  and 
 declared  to  be  the  substitute  for  the  late  patriarchate,  the  worthy  Metro- 
 politan Stephen  (author  of  a  very  respectable  polemical  work,  "The  Rock 
 of  Faith")  with  the  title  of  Guardian,  carrying  on  the  government  of  the 
 ( 'hurch  in  the  meanwhile.  "  The  Spiritual  Regulation  "  (the  product  of 
 Theophan  Prokopovitch,  Bishop  of  Pskoff,  and  author  of  a  treatise  on 
 theology)  for  the  guidance  of  the  synod,  containing,  in  three  parts,  an 
 accurate  statement  of  the  composition  and  object  of  this  collegiate  govern- 
 ment, and  approved  of  by  the  Eastern  patriarchs  just  as  the  substitution 
 itself  of  the  patriarchate  by  the  synod, — remains,  with  but  few  modifications, 
 still  in  force. ^  Both  the  seminaries  at  every  episcopal  seat,  and  the  Pxclesi- 
 astical  Academy  at  St.  Petersburg,  contemplated  under  it,  are  now  in  a 
 flourishing  state  ;  but  the  number  of  foreigners  that  invaded  Russia  at 
 Peter's  bidding,  with  their  totally  different  views  of  religion  and  life,  the 
 strange  customs  and  habits  alien  to  the  Russian  spirit,  although  they  could 
 not  supplant  the  spirit  of  orthodoxy  or  Russian  nationality,  both  so  near 
 and  dear  to  the  heart  of  every  Russian,  could  not  help  greatly  retarding 
 their  growth  and  development.  The  model  Western  schools  became  the 
 hotbeds  of  the  medireval  scholasticism  in  its  worst  form,  the  very  language 
 in  them  being  Latin  down  to  some  fifty  years  ago,  and  they  produced  cele- 
 brated dialecticians  and  linguists,  but  very  few  orthodox  theologians.- 
 Frequent  changes  of  rulers,  with  foreigners  as  regents  or  favourites,  could 
 not  be  conducive  to  the  advancement  of  national  education.  In  the  same 
 category  must  of  course  be  placed  the  awful  invasion  of  Russia  in  181 2,  by 
 Napoleon  I.  with  his  barbaric  hordes  ;  but  calling  up  the  national  upheaval, 
 it  raised  the  spirit  of  nationality,  just  as  the  Crimean  coalition,  and  proved 
 
 '  Three  Metropolitans  and  tlie  Archbishop  of  Georgia  usually  attend  the  sittings  of 
 the  synod,  he  of  St.  Petersburg  being  the  president.  Other  members  are  selected  by  the 
 ex-officio  members,  and  an  imperial  ukaze  calls  tiiem  to  attend.  The  titles  of  Metro- 
 politans and  Archbishops  are  merely  nominal  and  honoraiy,  all  the  bishops  being 
 exactly  ec|ual  in  their  privileges  and  rights.  Three  names  of  candidates  for  bishoprics 
 are  submitted  to  the  Emperor  by  the  synod,  and  His  Majesty  generally  consults  the 
 Ober-Procuror — the  legal  adviser  of  the  synoil  and  their  intermediary  with  the  Emperor 
 — as  to  whom  of  the  three  the  synod  particularly  had  in  view.  The  bishops  in  Russia 
 had  always,  as  in  the  East  from  time  immemorial,  been  monks,  and  are  selected  from 
 those  who  had  received  the  highest  education,  and  had  proved  their  pastoral  abilities  as 
 archimandrites  of  great  monasteries,  at  the  same  time  chiefs  of  educational  establish- 
 ments, or  from  the  distinguished  widowed  archpriests.  The  parish  priests  must  either 
 marry  before  consecration,  or  remain  for  ever  single,  without  taking  the  vows.  From  the 
 time  of  Catherine  II.,  when,  in  conformity  to  the  plan  of  Peter  the  Great,  all  the  lands 
 with  serfs  on  them  were  taken  from  the  monasteries,  both  the  black  and  the  white  clergy 
 yearly  receive  certain  small  stipends  (from  £,\d),  the  white,  besides  the  fees  from  the 
 parishioners,  having  also  glebe  lands  which  they  usually  cultivate  themselves. 
 
 2  The  exceptions  are  truly  the  very  gems  of  their  kind,  and  their  writings  are  translated 
 into  almost  all  the  European  languages.  Such  are  Plato's  Catechism  and  History, 
 Philarel's,  also  of  Moscow,  the  "Great  Catechism"  and  the  selected  sermons  ;  Philaret's 
 of  Tchernigoff  "Dogmatic  Theology  ;"'  but  especially  Macarius,  late  Metropolitan  of  Mos- 
 cow, whose  "  Fundamental  Theology  and  Dogmatic  Theology"  are  well  known  abroad, 
 and  whose  "  History  of  the  Russian  Church  "  (a  very  voluminous  work)  will  also  before 
 long  be  translated  and  become  known  abroad.  The  Russian  Church  had,  and  can  now 
 boast  of,  several  remarkable  preachers.  The  late  Nicanor  of  Odessa  and  the  present 
 Ambrosius  of  Kharkoff  may  be  cited  as  examples. 
 
440  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 once  more  to  tlie  new  Crusaders  of  the  West  how  great  is  the  Russian  God, 
 and  how  strong  the  faith  of  the  people  (even  tlie  almost  Frenchified  upper 
 classes  of  the  time  began  to  speak,  and  think  in  Russian). 
 
 It  is  only  at  the  time  of  such  a  patriot  as  was  Emperor  Nicolas  I.  that 
 Chomiakoffs,  Aksakoflfs,  Samarins,  and  Kireeffs  could  appear,  and  be  en- 
 abled to  thoroughly  grasp,  duly  appreciate,  and  intelligibly  inculcate  to 
 others,  the  superiority  of  the  orthodoxy  over  the  Western  forms  of  Chris- 
 tianity, and  its  congeniality  with  the  spirit  of  the  Slavonian  races;  but 
 these  great  masters,  as  all  other  prophets,  for  a  long  time  remained  un- 
 recognised, and  are  still  reviled  and  abused  abroad  under  the  bugbear 
 name  of  Panslavists.  Now  their  writings  are  widely  known  in  Russia,  and 
 the  saintly  Chomiakoff  is  being  laid  at  the  very  foundation  of  the  study  of 
 orthodox  theology. 
 
 A\'ith  the  commencement  of  the  late  gentle  reign  (which  will  for  ever 
 remain  memorable,  both  for  the  greatest  act  of  humanity  in  the  liberation 
 of  millions  of  serfs  and  other  beneficial  reforms,  as  well  as  for  diabolical 
 attempts,  under  the  influence  of  foreign  ideas,  on  the  life  of  the  anointed) 
 there  was  a  great  revival  of  the  missionary  spirit  in  Russia,  and  while  she 
 had  never  before  crossed  the  borders  of  her  state,  confining  her  work 
 among  the  newly  acquired  peoples  or  races,  there  left  for  Japan,  besides 
 several  parties  that  went  to  Siberia,  a  single  young  monk.  It  was  the 
 present  Bishop  Nicolay,  and  his  truly  apostolic  labours  have  been  crowned 
 with  a  very  great  success,  there  being  now  no  less  than  16,000  native 
 orthodox  Christians,  a  small  separate  Church,  the  youngest  daughter,  who 
 so  eloquently  greeted  the  mother  Church  on  the  occasion  of  the  900th 
 anniversary,  with  which  we  have  begun  the  present  lecture. 
 
 From  the  preceding,  necessarily  rapid,  survey  it  appears : — 
 
 1.  That  throughout  these  nine  centuries  the  Russian  Church  had  almost 
 uninterruptedly  had  to  struggle  against  the  encroachments  and  persecutions 
 of  the  Ciiurch  of  Rome,  who  did  her  utmost  and  by  all  available  means  in 
 her  power  to  get  mastery  over  the  Orthodox  Church. 
 
 2.  That,  in  spite  of  all  the  sufferings  and  adverse  political  and  social 
 conditions,  the  Russian  Church  had  throughout  preserved  the  faith  as  she 
 received  it  from  the  beginning,  and  her  closest  union  with  the  Churches 
 of  the  East,  having,  for  six  centuries,  remained  a  dutiful  daughter  of  that  ot 
 Constantinople,  and,  in  the  persons  of  her  own  patriarchs  as  well  as  later 
 on  in  the  holy  synod,  independent  and  equal  to  the  other  Orthodox 
 Churches  and  Patriarchates  of  the  East. 
 
 3.  That  she  continued  steadfastly  to  proceed  hand  in  hand  with  the 
 civil  government,  fashioning  and  influencing  it,  but  never  encroaching  on 
 the  rights  of  Cajsars,  and  herself  ever  remaining,  in  matters  of  dogma,  her 
 own  mistress  and  independent  judge,  not  having  experienced  any  infrac- 
 tion in  essentially  religious  matters  on  the  part  of  the  civil  power. 
 
 4.  I  hat,  having  firmly  established  Christian  principles  and  piety  in  her 
 
THE   ORrilODOX-CATHOLIC  EASTERN  CHURCH.  44 1 
 
 children,  and  finding  herself  in  the  midst  of  awakening  of  the  truly  national 
 and  Christian  spirit  and  animation,  she  now  strives  to  heal  the  wounds  of 
 centuries  of  darkness  by  enlightening  the  slaves  of  letter  and  of  an  alien 
 spirit. 
 
 5.  That,  having  by  very  slow,  it  may  be,  but  sure  steps,  continued  to 
 spread  the  light  of  Christianity  in  the  ever  widening  limits  of  the  empire, 
 not  by  sword  or  persecution,  but  by  spiritual  means  of  education  and  piety, 
 she,  in  her  flourishing  mission  to  Japan,  begins  to  extend  her  beneficent 
 influence  beyond  those  confines. 
 
 May  she  continue  in  this  progress,  and,  by  making  the  banner  of  ortho- 
 doxy shine  forth  af:ir,  be  the  means  of  uniting  the  whole  of  mankind  into 
 the  one  flock  and  fold  of  Christ. 
 
442 
 
 THE    CHURCH    CATHOLIC.^ 
 
 By  V>.  V.  C.  CosTELLOE,  M.A. 
 
 "  Through  all  the  centuries  of  civilization  " — so  I  imagine  Macaulay's 
 New  Zealander  will  say  to  an  impartial  generation — "  through  all  the 
 change  and  chance  of  History  there  runs  one  permanent  power.  Alike  in 
 the  decay  of  Greece  and  the  pride  of  Rome,  alike  tiirough  the  tempest  ot 
 the  barbarian  times  and  the  gradual  uprising  of  the  kingdoms,  from  the 
 ages  when  men  accepted  meekly  their  appointed  place,  to  the  latter  day 
 when  every  man's  hand  was  against  his  brother  in  the  bitter  war  of  indi- 
 vidual competition,  one  system  of  things  has  stood  secure,  as  a  castle 
 founded  upon  a  rock  stands  above  tlie  rising  and  the  falling  tide,  through 
 the  calm  weather  and  the  storm. 
 
 "  An  organization  at  first  but  of  the  unlearned  and  the  outcasts  of  society 
 — as  was  its  Founder — placed  under  the  ban  of  the  most  imperial  des- 
 potism the  world  has  seen,  it  was  a  little  later  the  sister  sovereign  of  that 
 same  Empire  throughout  the  Roman  world  ;  and  when  the  Empire  fell 
 beneath  the  greatness  of  its  task,  the  throne  of  the  Fisherman  continued 
 to  stand  in  the  very  palace  of  the  Coesars,  and  the  city  where  the  Popes 
 of  four  centuries  had  been  driven  like  things  of  darkness  underground 
 became  the  world-capital  of  the  Papacy. 
 
 "  In  one  age  the  apostle  of  an  ideal  morality  in  an  evil  time  ;  in  another 
 the  conserver  of  learning;  in  a  third  the  mother  of  the  Arts;  in  all,  the 
 pattern  and  helper  of  political  and  social  unity — this  unchanging  yet  ever- 
 varying  kingdom,  this  stern  and  yet  most  liberal  philosophy,  not  only 
 claimed  to  teach,  but  taught,  as  with  authority,  the  children  of  men." 
 
 Surely  I  may  claim,  my  friends,  that  it  is  a  startling  item  in  the  secular 
 march  of  things,  a  masterful  fact  not  lightly  to  be  put  by — no  more  than 
 that  other  cardinal  fact  to  which  it  leads  us  back — the  life  and  death  of 
 Jesus  who  was  called  the  C'hrist.  He  founded  this  power.  He  said  it 
 should  not  fail  ;  and  it  has  not  failed. 
 
 Not  once,  but  many  times,  indeed,  there  came  great  waves  of  what  the 
 world  thought  disaster.  In  the  beginning  it  was  persecution.  Edict  after 
 edict  went  out  against  them,  till  in  the  darkest  of  the  night  before  the  dawn 
 an  illiterate  barl)arian  bent  the  force  of  the  twin  Empires  to  exterminate 
 the  Christian  name  :  and  knowing  how  easy  was  the  detection  of  those 
 who  never  would  deny  their  crime,  the  imjjerial  statesman  said  that  the 
 
 >  This  address  has  aheady  hcun  printed  as  a  separate  tract,  by  the  Catholic  Trutli 
 Society. 
 
THE   CHURCH  CATHOLIC.  443 
 
 dangerous  rival  of  the  Caesars  would  not  be  heard  of  any  more — but  it  is 
 the  statesmen  who  are  forgotten. 
 
 Then  there  was  the  wave  of  Schism.  The  Arian  heresy  prevailed  so  far 
 that  men  said  the  Church's  time  was  ended  upon  the  earth.  Princes  and 
 peoples,  Bishops  and  provinces,  fell  away,  till  tliere  was  but  a  handful  left 
 to  continue  the  great  tradition.  Yet  in  a  little  while  the  Arians  passed  like 
 a  mirage,  and  men  asked  each  other  the  meaning  of  the  name. 
 
 It  was  an  even  darker  hour,  when  a  rising  tide  of  moral  corruption  and 
 a  swift  outbreak  of  intellectual  doubt  coinciding  in  the  period  of  the 
 Renaissance  seemed  to  have  killed  the  energies  of  the  Church,  and 
 swamped  in  wickedness  and  infidelity  the  very  Court  of  Rome.  Yet  the 
 cnrious  reasonings  of  the  Neo-Pagans  have  left  but  faint  echoes  in  the 
 history  of  thought — the  worldly  Popes  and  the  corrupt  Cardinals  and  all 
 the  unfaithful  stewards  who  dared  to  lift  their  mitres  up  against  their 
 Master  have  gone  to  their  account — and  there  does  not  remain  upon  the 
 institutions  or  the  morals  or  the  doctrine  of  the  Church  a  vestige  of  the 
 evil  time. 
 
 A\'ave  upon  wave,  in  the  very  worst  of  the  danger,  came  the  great  up- 
 heaval called  the  Reformation,  wherein  the  spirit  of  Individualism,  per- 
 sonified in  the  rough  violence  of  Luther,  rent  the  Church  in  twain;  and 
 in  this  rebellion  and  the  disorders  which  accompanied  and  followed  it, 
 it  seemed  as  if  the  bark  of  Peter  must  assuredly  go  down.  Yet  as  even 
 Macaulay — most  typical  of  English  Protestants — has  borne  witness,  the 
 work  of  the  Council  of  Trent  and  the  early  labours  of  the  Jesuit  Order  and 
 all  that  inner  Reformation  which  accompanied  these,  left  the  Papacy  not 
 weaker  but  stronger  than  before.^ 
 
 Finally,  in  our  time,  are  come  the  days  when  countless  new  chapters  of 
 revelation  are  unrolled  by  science,  and  when  a  universal  criticism,  laying 
 faith  and  reverence  aside,  has  summoned  every  creed  and  every  law  to 
 answer  at  the  bar  of  reason  for  its  right  to  be.  All  these  great  and  good 
 men  who  are  to  free  us  from  the  trammels  of  old  time — whether  they  come 
 as  agnostics  or  in  the  name  of  evolution,  whether  they  say  they  hold  God 
 needless,  or  have  found  our  immortality  to  be  a  phantom,  or  cannot  recog- 
 nise that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  sin — with  one  accord  in  divers  tongues 
 cry  out  to  us  that  the  old  creeds  have  passed  for  ever,  and  that  the  religion 
 of  the  future,  if  religion  there  be  at  all,  must  be  something  less  archaic 
 ihan  the  Church  of  Christ.  But  in  the  midst  of  them — not  denying  what- 
 ever truth  they  have  to  show,  adapting  indeed  the  message  of  the  ages  to 
 the  later  time,  but  upholding  always  her  profession  of  Christ's  teaching 
 and  the  Christian  Law — the  ancient  Church  goes  on. 
 
 It  is  in  this  permanence  amid  the  changing  centuries,  it  is  in  this  endur- 
 ing triumph  in  defeat,  that  even  the  most  hostile  critics  have  felt  something 
 of  that  great  appeal  which  to  her  children  the  mere  existence  of  the 
 Church  implies  ;  and  something  of  the  force  with  which  to  their  eyes  is 
 realized  in  her  the  prophecy  of  the  Divine  Founder.     ]\Iay   we   not  well 
 
444  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 call  it  a  fulfilment  of  that  commission,  with  which,  in  different  wordings,  it 
 pleased  the  Spirit  that  inspired  the  writers  of  the  covenant  to  close  three 
 Gospels  and  to  begin  the  Acts  :  "  As  My  Father  hath  sent  oNIe,  so  send  I 
 you  :  go  ye  therefore  into  all  nations,  baptizing  them  in  the  name  of  the 
 Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  teaching  them  to  observe 
 all  things,  whatsoever  I  have  commanded  you  :  and  behold  I  am  with  you 
 always,  even  to  the  end  of  the  world  "  ? 
 
 It  is  in  this  light,  then,  that  I  desire  first  to  present  to  you  the  mission 
 and  oftice  of  the  Catholic  Church.  Its  name  insists  upon  its  universal 
 claim.  It  is  not  a  congregation  of  persons  agreeing  together  ;  it  is  not 
 a  School  of  Philosophy ;  it  is  not  a  Mutual  Improvement  Society.  It  is 
 not  even  a  Church  among  other  Churches.  It  is  t/ie  Church  Universal — 
 the  Living  Voice  of  God,  in  Christ's  revelation,  unto  all  people,  through 
 all  lime.  It  is  for  this  reason,  and  this  only,  that  it  teaches  as  its  Master 
 taught, — not  as  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  but  as  one  "  having  authority." 
 It  is  for  this  reason  that  in  God's  name  it  makes  that  awful  demand  upon 
 the  faith  of  men  which  no  human  power,  however  arrogant,  would  dare 
 suggest — that  we  who  accept  its  teaching  oftice  shall  accept  those  proposi- 
 tions which  are  "  of  faith,"  even  where  we  do  not  wholly  understand  them, 
 and  even  where  they  may  seem  to  us  to  stand  in  conflict  with  other 
 portions  of  our  personal  reasoning  as  to  the  things  that  lie  within  the 
 human  ken. 
 
 You  will  see  at  once  that  this  demand  cannot  merely  be  waived  aside  as 
 being  incompatible  with  so-called  rights  of  private  judgment,  unless  you 
 are  prepared  on  the  same  principle  to  deny  that  there  can  be  any  authori- 
 tative revelation  of  God's  truth  at  all. 
 
 Private  judgment — meaning  the  paramount  authority  of  that  which  at 
 any  moment  may  commend  itself  to  me— must  dissolve  any  Divine 
 authority  of  the  Written  Word,  as  surely  as  of  the  Living  Voice.  Luther, 
 in  his  more  consistent  mood,  was  hardly  less  arrogant  than  Mr.  ISIatthew 
 Arnold  in  his  assertion  that  the  Canon  of  the  New  Testament  was  to  be 
 limited  by  his  own  theology.  Tlie  Epistle  of  James,  said  Luther,  cannot 
 be  the  Word  of  God,  because  it  is  tainted  with  "Justification  by  works." 
 This  and  this  cannot  be  a  Aoyioi'  of  Jesus,  says  the  modern  critic,  because 
 /  would  not  have  said  it. 
 
 I  do  not  forget  that  one  great  watchword  of  the  sixteenth  century  revolt 
 was  the  appeal  from  the  Church  to  the  ]]ible.  iiut  the  impartial  critics 
 have  long  since  begun  to  recognise  that  the  Bible  is  no  ally  of  the 
 Lutheran  and  Calvinist  theology,  much  less  of  the  eclectic  system  of  the 
 so-called  National  Church  of  England.  And  as  the  inevitable  disintegra- 
 tion has  gone  on,  the  appeal  to  the  Bible  has  come  to  be  an  appeal  against 
 the  Bible. 
 
 I  do  not  hesitate,  indeed,  to  say  that  the  teaching  office  of  the  Church 
 and  the  existence  of  any  real  revelation  must  stand  and  fall  together.  It 
 there  be  no  Church,  neither  is  there  any  Bible,  unless  you   mean  by  a 
 
THE   CHURCH  CATHOLIC.  445 
 
 Bible  an  interesting  but  scrappy  compendium  of  Oriental  literature.  If 
 the  Church  be  not  a  teacher,  then  there  is  not  any  Christ  at  all,  unless  it 
 be  a  self-deluded  Hebrew  Socrates. 
 
 It  will  enable  me  to  make  my  position  clearer,  if  I  may  for  a  moment 
 assume  that  those  whom  I  address  accept  the  proposition  that  the  mission 
 of  Christ  was  to  reveal  to  the  whole  world  some  knowledge  of  Divine 
 things  not  attainable  or  not  attained  before.  IMy  position  is  that,  if  this 
 be  true,  the  claim  of  the  Church  to  be  a  living  voice,  expounding  with 
 authority  from  age  to  age  what  was  contained  in  that  revelation  and  in- 
 cluded in  the  deposit  of  faith,  must  of  necessity  be  allowed.  For  if  a 
 revelation  ^nms  required  for  the  spiritual  guidance  of  the  race,  it  is  self- 
 evident  that  the  truth  intended  to  be  revealed  must  be  capable  of  being 
 apprehended  by  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men,  and  in  the  coming  ages 
 of  the  world,  with  some  reasonable  security.  A  revelation  which  in  its 
 cardinal  points  was  open  to  such  absolute  doubt,  that  the  most  honest, 
 enlightened  and  spiritual  men  could  arrive  at  conclusions  diametrically 
 opposed,  and  yet  have  no  kind  of  arbiter  to  whom  they  could  refer  their 
 difference,  is  no  revelation  at  all.  That  any  revelation  should  be  useful 
 for  the  world  or  conceivable  as  a  providential  design,  three  things  surely 
 are  necessary  :  tliat  it  should  be  guaranteed  in  its  inception ;  that  it  should 
 carry  a  continuing  certitude  ;  and  that  it  should  be  applicable  to  the 
 intelligence  and  practical  necessities  of  every  struggling  soul.  It  is  written, 
 indeed,  that  the  things  of  God  are  hidden  oftentimes  from  the  wise  and 
 learned,  and  are  revealed  rather  to  the  babes  and  sucklings  of  the  world. 
 But  assuredly  it  cannot  be  true  that  the  revelation  of  Christ  is  a  thing  dis- 
 cernible by  sundry  scholars  and  gentlemen,  having  leisure  and  much 
 knowledge,  but  wholly  misapprehended  or  not  visible  at  all  among  the 
 "  little  ones  "  of  whom  He  always  spoke  so  carefully, — by  the  crossing- 
 sweeper  and  the  washerwoman,  the  labourer  in  the  fields,  the  proletariat  of 
 the  town.  If  from  these,  who  need  it  most,  the  revelation  of  Christ  is 
 inevitably  hidden,  then  God  has  mocked  the  universe.  But  if  there  be 
 not  a  teaching  authority  and  a  living  voice,  how  is  the  truth  accessible 
 to  these  ? 
 
 Will  you  tell  me  they  can  read  a  Bible  ?  I  reply,  that  men  better  and 
 more  learned  than  they  have  found  a  thousand  contradictory  religions 
 within  the  covers  of  the  Sacred  Books  of  Christianity.  Even  if  it  were  not 
 ■so,  who  shall  guarantee  to  them  either  tlie  degree  of  authority  that  attaches 
 to  these  books  or  even  the  contents  of  the  canon,  if  there  be  no  continuing 
 teacher  in  the  world  since  the  day  when  Christ  last  stood  on  Olivet,  when 
 not  a  line  indeed  of  the  New  Testament  was  written? 
 
 The  movers  of  the  revolt  against  authority  in  the  sixteenth  century  felt 
 the  difficulty  dimly  ;  but  they  evidently  were  not  aware  of  the  far-reaching 
 •.scepticism  which  their  protest  logically  involved.  They  adopted,  as  a 
 working  principle,  the  doctrine  of  the  infallibility  of  Bible  texts,  sup- 
 plemented by  the  conception  of  the  '"'testimony  of  the  Holy  Spirit."     On 
 
446  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 tliis  view,  earnest  souls  throughout  Protestantism,  prayerfully  reading  the 
 \\'ord  of  God  with  the  intoxicating  belief  in  a  personal  revelation  of  its 
 import,  were  not  long  in  setting  up  an  infinite  diversity  of  creed  and 
 practice,  wherein  for  want  of  any  pope,  each  teacher  was  his  own.  Even 
 the  monstrosities  of  the  Anabaptists  in  the  earlier  time,  or  of  the  Mormons 
 in  our  own,  have  come  to  them  guaranteed  by  the  same  authority  which 
 guarantees  the  sturdy  Calvinism  of  Scotland,  the  Puritanism  of  the  Iron- 
 sides, the  mystic  spirituality  of  George  Fox  and  William  Penn.  Of  all  this 
 I  merely  say  that,  to  my  mind,  such  a  revelation  reveals  nothing  ;  and  that 
 if  the  office  of  the  Messiah  were  but  to  live  and  speak  for  a  little  while,  and 
 charge  a  few  uneducated  persons  to  commit  to  writing  a  fragmentary 
 account  of  what  He  did  and  said,  and  a  still  more  imperfect  set  of  episto- 
 lary remarks  upon  the  theories  of  life  and  action  which  He  taught, 
 then  He  has  left  the  world  without  any  secure  guidance  in  the  ways  of 
 God,  or  any  safe  criterion  of  truth  and  right. 
 
 Surely  the  cult  of  isolated  texts  which  is  nicknamed  "  Bibliolatry  "  is  no 
 possible  assurance  of  God's  teaching.  There  are  texts  which,  taken  apart, 
 l)rove  almost  everything.  And  conversely  there  are  many  vital  matters 
 which  no  set  of  texts,  taken  apart,  will  satisfactorily  establish.  If  anything 
 is  clear  about  the  New  Testament,  it  is  that  nowhere  does  it  profess  to  set 
 out  either  a  reasoned  philosophy  of  life  or  a  comprehensive  scheme  of 
 doctrine.  Apart  from  the  patent  circumstance,  that  the  "  Discipline  ot 
 the  Secret "  precluded  the  publication  of  what  may  be  called  the  esoteric 
 dogmas  of  the  early  Christians,  it  is  obvious  that  in  no  one  of  the  Gospels 
 or  Epistles  has  the  writer  any  idea  of  writing  a  systematic  exposition,  or 
 any  notion  that  he  is  putting  on  record  an  exhaustive  or  complete  account 
 of  the  teaching  either  of  Christ  or  of  the  early  Church.  To  them,  as  to 
 me,  the  deposit  of  faith  was  a  body  of  tradition,  i)rovidentially  safeguarded 
 by  the  earthly  work  of  the  Spirit  of  Truth,  but  not  depending  on  nor 
 bounded  by  the  Sacred  Books,  for  it  was  going  on  concurrently  before  and 
 during  their  construction,  by  the  same  authority  which  adjudicated,  first 
 vaguely  and  afterwards  with  definite  precision,  upon  the  number  and  office 
 of  the  Sacred  Books  themselves. 
 
 There  is  of  course  another  sense  in  which  all  Christianity  must  depend 
 on  the  Bible,  for  it  is  there  chiefly  that  we  find  the  historic  warrant  for 
 the  belief  that  such  a  life  as  Christ's  was  ever  lived  at  all.  But  when  we 
 have  used  our  Matthew,  and  John,  and  Paul,  with  Clement  and  Hernias, 
 and  the  Pseudo-Areojjagite  and  the  rest,  as  we  might  use  our  Tacitus  or 
 our  Josephus  ;  and  in  the  character  of  historic  students  have  sifted  out 
 from  these  the  fact  that  Christ's  life  and  acts  and  work  and  personality  are 
 in  the  main  as  historic  as  Cncsar's  ;  then,  as  a  Catholic,  I  would  say  that  we 
 can  collect  from  that  account  and  the  historic  facts  surrounding  it  the 
 assurance  not  only  that  this  momentous  Person  did  found  the  Catholic 
 Church — of  which  I  am  as  certain  as  that  Cccsar  initiated  the  Empire — but 
 also  that  in  founding  it  He  gave  it  a  commission  which,  if  He  was  truly 
 
THE   CHURCH  CATHOLIC.  447 
 
 God,  was  verily  Divine.  Thus  it  is  that  when,  in  course  of  centuries  we 
 find  it  declared  that  Matthew,  John  and  Paul  are  "  of  the  canon  of  scrip- 
 ture," and  are  to  be  read  as  inspired  writings,  whereas  Clement  and  Hernias, 
 however  venerable,  are  not ;  then  we  can  go  back  to  Matthew,  and  John 
 and  Paul  and  re-read  them  not  as  mere  historical  critics,  but  as  humble 
 students  of  the  ^Vord  of  God — and  so  are  prepared  to  accept,  on  their 
 authority  endorsed  by  the  authority  of  the  faith,  much  in  their  narrative 
 which,  as  historical  critics,  we  were  content  to  earmark  as  possibly  legen- 
 dary or  of  doubtful  accuracy,  and  much  in  their  doctrine  which,  as  mere 
 literature,  might  not  have  commended  itself  to  a  fastidious  taste. 
 
 I  have  desired  to  define  at  some  length  this  Catholic  view  of  Christ's 
 revelation  and  tlie  Catholic  attitude  towards  the  Bible,  as  opposed  to  the 
 Protestant  theories  on  these  matters,  partly  because  it  is  vital  to  the  under- 
 standing of  Catholicism,  and  partly  because  it  is  seldom  understood  by 
 those  who  stand  outside  the  Church.  I  now  pass  to  the  consideration  of 
 some  of  the  main  lines  of  the  Catholic  teaching.  It  will  be  understood 
 that  I  have  indeed  nothing  to  offer  but  a  few  suggestions,  whose  only  value, 
 if  they  have  any,  is  that  they  have  been  borne  in  upon  me  by  reason  of 
 much  converse  with  those  to  whom  Catholicism  speaks  the  language  of  a 
 strange  country. 
 
 Upon  the  commonplaces  of  controversy  I  do  not  propose  to  waste  time. 
 The  "  errors  of  Rome  "  which  exercise  the  mind  of  anti-Popery  lecturers 
 and  other  wise  men,  are  for  the  most  part  beside  the  point.  Too  often 
 they  are  either  flat  misstatements  of  Catholic  belief,  imputing  to  us  what  no 
 Catholic  would  dream  of  teaching— as  that  "  the  end  justifies  the  means"  ; 
 or  they  are  a  travesty  of  something  which  is  the  merest  fringe  of  that  great 
 body  of  doctrine,  such  as  the  ancient  usage  of  Indulgences  or  the  celibacy 
 of  the  clergy.  Of  such  things,  at  a  tit  time,  I  should  not  despair  of  giving 
 you  a  wholly  reasonable  account  ;  but  if  a  man  desires  to  appreciate  the 
 Catholic  Faith  as  it  deserves,  it  is  not  with  these  high  points  of  controversy 
 that  he  will  begin.  It  is  the  broad  base-lines  of  that  majestic  plan  that 
 such  a  one  will  look  for.  It  is  the  pregnant  words  which,  by  that  Living 
 Voice,  the  Master  speaks  to  all  the  world  and  to  each  man's  soul. 
 
 I  cannot  hope  to  make  you  know  these  mighty  words — which  Paul 
 heard  in  the  third  Heaven — which  all  of  us  will  hear  when  the  last  trumpet 
 sounds — which,  as  we  well  know,  descend  at  the  altar  rails  into  many  a 
 simple  heart.  To  the  ear  of  faith,  they  are  not  hard  to  hear ;  but  to  state 
 them  in  the  common  language  of  the  world,  and  above  all  in  the  customary 
 speech  of  modern  England,  is  a  work  that  for  its  full  accomplishment  must 
 wait,  I  think,  till  God  shall  send  again  that  gift  of  "  prophecy,"  wherewith 
 He  touched  the  lips  of  John  of  the  Golden  Mouth,  and  lit  the  fiery  eyes  of 
 Savonarola.  Yet,  however  little  power  there  be  to  do  it,  we  must  do  the 
 little  that  we  may.  For  when  we  look  back  upon  that  woeful  time  when 
 the  Body  of  Christ  was  torn  asunder,  and  the  mightiest  semblance  of  God's 
 Kingdom  which  the  world  had  seen  was  rent  by  civil  war,  I  think  we  can- 
 
448  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 not  choose  but  say  that  these  men,  however  we  are  to  judge  their  motives 
 or  their  aim,  threw  back  the  world's  religious  life  by  centuries. 
 
 We  have  had  more  than  two  hundred  years  of  "  Phoenix  cremation  ' 
 since  the  Bull  of  Wittenberg  was  burnt ;  but  I  doubt  if  another  two 
 hundred  will  place  us  at  the  point  the  world  might  have  reached,  if  the 
 party  of  reform  had  been  led  by  men  of  the  type  of  Savonarola  and  ot 
 Thomas  More,  rather  than  by  Luther  and  Henry  VIII.  That  is  our  view; 
 but  of  those  who  take  any  otlier,  we  may  at  least  demand  that  they  shall 
 be  willing  to  labour  with  us  to  restore  the  broken  unity,  to  heal  the  secular 
 war,  to  point  the  nations,  amid  a  chaos  that  seemingly  grows  worse  with 
 every  tide  of  books,  to  that  City  whereof  the  pattern  is  laid  up  in  heaven, 
 whose  walls  are  justice  and  whose  ways  are  peace,  since  it  is  builded  upon 
 the  rock  of  an  assured  authority,  and  lit  for  ever  by  the  light  of  God. 
 
 I  must  pray  you  therefore  to  follow  me  a  little,  while  I  try  to  tell  you 
 what  Catholicism  means  to  me.  It  implies,  first  of  all,  a  deep  tremendous 
 consciousness  of  the  heaven-high  difference  between  good  and  evil,  truth 
 and  untruth,  righteousness  and  sin.  If  it  seems  to  be  rigid  in  its  teaching 
 and  in  its  insistence  on  obedience,  it  is  because  it  feels  that  the  tolerance 
 which  holds  that  one  thing  may  as  well  be  true  as  any  other,  is  but  an 
 opening  of  the  floodgates  of  all  misery.  Tolerance  we  are  perfectly  ready 
 to  give  where  it  is  due.  Where  a  man  believes  error  honestly,  only  be- 
 cause he  is  somehow  disabled  from  seeing  the  truth,  we  do  not  venture  to 
 condemn  him  ;  but  we  cannot  talk  of  it  as  if  he  were  as  likely  to  be  right 
 as  we  are,  or  as  if  it  did  not  matter  which  of  us  was  right  at  all.  For  when 
 we  say  that  we  believe,  we  mean  it ;  and  when  we  profess  to  hold  the  Truth 
 revealed  by  Cod  in  Christ,  we  hold  it  as  a  precious  gift,  the  wanton  loss  of 
 which  would  be  by  far  more  terrible  than  any  worldly  calamity. 
 
 As  with  truth,  so  with  the  consciousness  of  sin.  We  are  reproached, 
 unjustly  enough,  with  some  unreasonable  hostility  to  modern  progress,  and 
 to  that  all-pervading  spirit  of  emancipation  which  is  the  pride  of  the  children 
 of  the  Great  Revolution.  Neither  with  progress,  nor  with  science,  nor  with 
 freedom,  has  the  Church  any  cpiarrel.  She  has  herself  in  many  ways  been 
 the  promoter  and  guardian  of  them  all ;  but  she  has  always  been  and  is 
 and  will  be  jealous  of  the  souls  that  are  in  danger,  for  she  counts  the  risk 
 of  moral  evil  as  a  thing  far  graver  than  material  prosperity.  As  we  would 
 all  say,  surely,  in  our  personal  ethics,  that  no  amount  of  money  gain  should 
 weigh  with  an  honest  man  against  his  moral  degradation  ;  so  the  Church 
 says,  upon  her  wider  plane,  that  no  amount  of  monetary  or  material  pro- 
 gress will  compensate  a  generation,  if  thereby  it  suffers  moral  wreck. 
 "What  doth  it  profit  a  man,"  she  cries  from  age  to  age,  "if  he  gain  the 
 whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?  "  "  Woe  upon  you,"  she  cries  to  the 
 heralds  of  comfortable  Utopias  of  emancipation,  "  if  by  your  recklessness 
 the  little  ones  of  Christ  are  made  to  stumble  and  to  fall."  So  much, — but 
 no  more.  Churchmen  have  been  mistaken,  as  we  all  admit,  in  their 
 application  of  that  principle.     You  are  free  to  say  bitter  things  about  their 
 
THE   CHURCH   CATHOLIC.  449 
 
 politics,  if  you  will.  But  if  you  would  do  justice  to  the  spirit  which 
 animated  even  the  narrowest  among  them,  you  must  remember  that  the 
 thought  which  underlay  their  warfare  was  the  paramount  importance  ot 
 saving,  if  possible,  these  little  ones  among  their  flock,  from  what  seemed  a 
 probable  risk  of  being  led  to  sin  against  God. 
 
 Throughout  all  the  Catholic  doctrine  and  the  living  practice  of  the 
 Church  runs  the  same  dominant  note  of  the  consciousness  of  sin.  That 
 God  is  above  all  things  infinitely  Holy — that  every  single  grave  and 
 deliberate  sin  is  a  disaster  to  the  universe  which  we  cannot  measure— that, 
 in  the  things  of  human  life,  sin  is  indeed  the  only  real  evil  that  exisis,  and 
 that  to  advance  towards  perfection  of  personal  character  is  our  only  real 
 progress — these  are  the  alphabet  of  the  Catholic  rule  of  life.  If  it  be 
 asceticism  to  hold  that  our  pain  and  pleasure  are  of  absolutely  no  account 
 in  comparison  with  any  moral  gain,  then  we  are  all  ascetics  in  our  belief, 
 however  little  we  may  fulfil  that  rule  in  practice.  And  the  reason  why  we 
 hold  each  particular  sin  a  woeful  evil,  is  because  it  appears  to  us  as  a 
 direct  contempt  of  God,  who  is  our  absolute  Lord  and  infinite  Benefactor, 
 and  because  we  feel  that  to  Him  by  His  essential  nature,  evil  must  needs 
 be  horrible  altogether.  If  we  are  to  talk  of  justice,  therefore,  any  one 
 rebellion  could  be  enough  to  forfeit  all  His  grace,  forego  His  promises,  and 
 alienate  the  sinner  by  the  issue  of  his  own  choice  from  that  Heavenly 
 Presence  wherein  no  discord  dwells. 
 
 Not  only  does  the  Church  so  think  of  sin,  but  she  goes  on  to  say  that 
 even  if  by  repentance  and  in  God's  grace  the  direct  offence  is  put  away, 
 the  rebel  absolved,  the  alien  soul  brought  back  into  the  happy  family  who 
 are  at  home  with  God,  yet  even  so  the  mischief  of  that  once-committed  sin 
 is  not  put  by.  For  it  is  the  nature  of  evil  to  work  itself  out  still,  in  evil 
 and  disablement  and  loss  ;  and  these,  which  are  technically  called  the 
 "  temporal  consequence  "  of  sin,  must  needs  be  suffered  even  while  there 
 is  rejoicing  in  Heaven  over  the  sheep  which  was  lost  and  now  is  found 
 again.  It  is  in  this  connection  that  we  think  of  Purgatory.  It  is  the  life 
 beyond  this  life  where  souls,  who  are  indeed  not  rebels  now  but  God's 
 beloved  penitents,  must  wait  and  toil  and  grow  till  they  have  wholly 
 purged  away  the  consequences  of  forgotten  sin,  and  wrought  upon  the  fi  ail 
 and  faulty  characters  they  built  themselves,  that  final  beauty  of  holiness 
 which  is  alone  receptive  of  the  ^'ision  of  God. 
 
 But  if  the  Church  is  stern  and  terrible  in  her  anathemas  on  even  the 
 beginnings  of  moral  wrong,  she  is  not  slow  to  preach  the  good  tidings  of 
 the  infinite  mercy.  I  cannot  profess  to  you  that  the  God  of  whom  she 
 speaks  is  the  God  of  those  who  go  their  easy  ways  and  say,  "  He's  a  good 
 fellow  and  'twill  all  be  well."  She  dare  not  bid  us  think  it  will  be  well, 
 unless  we  will  it.  "  He  made  us,"  says  St.  Austin,  "  without  our  consent, 
 but  He  will  not  save  us  so."  For  with  the  consciousness  of  sin,  the  Church 
 insists  by  logical  necessity  on  the  paramount  fact  of  human  freedom.  When 
 the  human  soul  came  from  the  creative  fiat  as  a  self  capable  of  moral  life, 
 
 VOL.  I, — pt.  2.  H  H 
 
450  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 and  therein  stamped  with  the  very  image  of  the  Divine,  it  bore  both  the 
 mark  of  responsibility  and  the  inalienable  power,  in  God's  despite  yet  none 
 the  less  triumphantly,  to  cause  evil  things  to  be,  in  what  was  God's  fair 
 universe  before.  Why  did  He  do  it  ?  we  may  all  ask ;  but  with  our  little 
 knowledge  of  the  secrets  of  the  Eternal  we  cannot  give  much  other  answer 
 than  that,  as  far  as  we  can  see,  it  was  not  possible  to  separate  the  trans- 
 cendent gift  of  a  potential  moral  goodness,  whereby  we  are  indeed  ennobled 
 as  no  other  gift  could  honour  us,  from  its  correlative  possibility  of  creating 
 crime. 
 
 On  Free  Will,  then,  the  Church  insists ;  but  she  insists  no  less  on  Grace. 
 If  Gotl  be  stainless  purity,  He  is  no  less  essential  Love.  If  He  does  not 
 compel  us  to  obey  the  Holy  Law,  at  least  He  plies  us  with  inducement, 
 with  suggestion,  with  facility  of  every  kind  which  infinite  wisdom  joined  to 
 infinite  love  can  offer  for  our  aid.  The  world  which  we  inhabit  is  the 
 world  our  fathers  made,  and  it  is  beset  with  the  results  of  old  ancestral 
 sin  :  for  it  is  the  tragic  property  of  wrong  that  its  ill  consequences  affect 
 not  only  him  who  does  it,  but  also  those  to  whom  his  life  is  bound  in  this 
 great  family  of  struggling  souls.  W^e  live  then,  not  in  a  Paradise  of  God's 
 arranging,  but  in  a  Babylon  of  crooked  ways,  whose  streets  are  littered 
 with  the  rotting  evil  and  barred  with  the  accumulated  rubbish  of  that  past 
 which  we  inherit.  I  do  not  forget,  still  less  deny,  that  this  same  Babylon 
 is  a  mighty  city,  wherein  are  also  goodly  sights  and  gracious  buildings  not 
 a  few,  with  many  that,  though  still  imperfect,  and  it  may  be  dangerous  in 
 their  ])erfection,  are  full  of  promise  for  the  later  time.  I  am  no  decrier  of 
 the  noble  inheritance  our  fathers  left  us  ;  yet  I  say  that  when  I  think  of  it 
 as  the  abode  wherein  we  must  work  out  each  of  us  his  own  salvation,  it 
 would  to  me  seem  little  better  than  a  fever  swamp  or  stricken  city  of  the 
 plague,  were  it  not  for  the  grace  of  God. 
 
 For,  as  the  Church  conceives,  the  teenn'ng  millions  who  are  born  and 
 die,  at  mere  haphazard  as  it  were,  along  the  crooked  ways,  w-here  to  the 
 human  eye  there  is  no  light  nor  joy,  are  not  forgotten.  Up  and  down,  as 
 Jacol)  saw  them,  go  the  messengers  of  God.  To  all  they  come  :  to  tliose 
 who  are  working  out,  with  fear  and  trembling  always,  yet  with  steady 
 resolution,  what  they  take  to  be  for  them  the  will  of  God  ;  and  to  those 
 who  are  wavering  on  the  brink  of  danger;  and  to  those  no  less— nay, 
 rather,  more  eagerly,  if  possible, — who  have  already  sinned  and  are 
 persisting  in  their  sin. 
 
 Up  and  down,  too,  go  the  messengers,  in  those  hard  places  of  the  world 
 where  circumstance,  to  human  eyes,  is  as  a  devil-giant  coercing  hapless 
 lives  not  only  into  pain  but  into  moral  wreck.  \\c  do  not  say  that  evil 
 circumstance,  that  plague  inheritance  of  ancient  sin,  is  a  light  thing.  We 
 think,  indeed,  that  He  who  judges  all  of  us  will  make  allowance  amply. 
 It  seems  evident  that  to  some  the  avoidance  of  a  special  sin — say  drunken- 
 ness— is  easier  ilian  to  others.  To  none,  short  of  moral  madness,  is  sin  in 
 truth  a  necessity ;  and  the  madman's  acts  are  not  sin.     What  we  conclude 
 
THE   CHURCH  CATHOLIC.  451 
 
 is  not  so  much  that  those  wlio  are  thrown  anion^  evil  surroundings  are 
 wholly  to  be  excused,  as  that  those  of  us  who  have  had  better  advantage, 
 have  the  deeper  blame.  But  everywhere,  and  to  each  with  the  appropriate 
 message,  come  the  bearers  of  God's  grace. 
 
 When  the  man  who  is  clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen  and  fares  sump- 
 tuously every  day,  is  basking  in  a  sensual  ease,  some  warning,  whether  it 
 take  the  form  of  Lazarus  or  no,  awakes  him  to  remember  better  things. 
 When  the  stricken  cliild,  to  whom  life  never  brought  a  sweeter  message 
 than  the  harmony  of  the  outward  squalor  and  the  inward  pairi,  lies  wist- 
 fully drifting  towards  the  welcome  end,  there  are  hands  unseen  that  clothe 
 upon  its  soul  the  raiment  of  a  lovely  patience,  and  light  up  mthin  its  eyes 
 the  radiance  of  an  unearthly  lesson.  When  the  successful  Philistine  is 
 blotting  day  by  day  from  the  tablets  of  his  brain  the  memory  of  any 
 spiritual  possibilities,  there  is  a  hand  that  constantly  renews  the  uncon- 
 sidered lines,  so  that  he  cannot  choose  but  sometimes  see  them.  For 
 every  battle  there  is  an  ally,  for  every  frailty  a  support;  with  every  tempta- 
 tion, however  fierce  it  seems  to  our  not  quite  inipartial  judgment,  there 
 goes  forth  for  us  the  possibility  of  bearing  it. 
 
 Conceiving  thus  of  human  life  as  a  warfare  wherein  we  daily  fight  with 
 sin  with  the  perpetual  assistance  of  the  grace  of  God,  the  Catholic  Church 
 presents  to  us,  as  the  central  fact  of  the  world's  history,  the  coming  of  the 
 Christ. 
 
 It  is  not  uncommon  to  reproach  us  with  our  acceptance  of  the  super- 
 natural ;  and  our  critics  seem  to  be  quite  satisfied  that  the  admission  of 
 any  belief  which  involves  things  not  e.xplainable  by  so-called  "natural 
 law,"  is  mere  superstition — as  absurd  as  witchcraft,  and  less  respectable 
 than  Spiritualism  or  the  Mind  Cure.  I  will  not  stay  to  discuss  this  general 
 point  of  view,  but  I  will  content  myself  with  the  remark  that  there  is  no 
 necessary  antagonism  at  all  between  Naturalism  and  the  Supernatural, 
 rightly  understood.  If  Free  Will  be  a  fact,  that  alone  transcends  at  once 
 all  that  in  the  narrow  sense  is  spoken  of  as  "  natural  law  ; "  for  every  free 
 act,  if  it  be  truly  free,  introduces  a  spiritual  new  creation  into  the  sequence 
 of  material  and  organic  forces-  Why  should  not  the  same  be  true  in  a 
 wider  field  ?  If  there  be  a  personal  God,  why  may  His  will  not  also  inter- 
 vene and  mould  the  stolid  course  of  physical  change  and  consequence  ? 
 And  if  there  be  such  influence  at  all,  why  should  we  assume  that  it  is 
 opposed  to  Law  ?  Rather  must  it  be  itself  the  action  and  evidence  of  a 
 higher  and  more  spiritual  reason  in  things,  which  we  perhaps  cannot  as  yet 
 follow,  but  which  we  too  iBay  some  day  see. 
 
 To  the  Catholic,  tlien,  the  cardinal  fact  of  the  whole  world's  history  is 
 the  birth,  and  life,  and  death  of  Christ.  The  old  world  leads  up  to  it :  the 
 new  is  its  development  and  outcome.  Unique  in  all  the  centuries — low- 
 liest and  yet  most  royal — that  dying  Preacher,  who  was  crucified  by  Jeru- 
 salem and  Rome  for  saying  that  He  was  the  very  Son  of  God,  is  the 
 corner-stone  of  the  world  fabric— the  key  of  the  human  mystery— the  Lord 
 
45::  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  Life.  Reading  the  simple  narrative,  waiving  all  question  of  inspiration, 
 if  you  will,  we  can  come  to  no  other  conclusion  but  that  He  claimed  to 
 be  the  Incarnate  God.  Not  at  all  a  wise  Socrates — not  in  the  least  a  later 
 Isaiah — not  a  mystic  nor  a  magician  ;  but  the  very  God — the  Word  made 
 Flesh — ^^th,e  absolute  "  I  .\^" 
 
 "Think,  Abib  !     Dost  thou  think?     The  very  God— 
 J^q,  the  All-Great  were  the  All-Loving  too — 
 1,0,  through  the  thunder,  speaks  a  human  voice, 
 Saying,  '  A  heart  I  niatlc,  a  heart  beats  here — 
 Thou  hast  no  power,  nor  may'st  coficeive  of  mine, 
 But  love  I  gave  thee,  with  Myself  to  love. 
 And  thou  imtst  love  Me,  who  have  died  for  thee.' 
 
 The  madman  saith  He  said  so — it  is  strange  I  " 
 
 Upon  this  absolute  ^nd  central  truth  of  Christ's  Divinity,  the  Church 
 insists  as  the  focus  and  radiating  point  of  all  her  teaching.  I  have  spoken 
 of  her  wide  philosophy  of  sin  and  grace.  For  both,  she  takes  us  back  at 
 once  to  Christ.  His  life  and  death — the  perfect  sacrifice,  the  purifying 
 and  the  reconciliation  of  sin-stained  humanity — bore  in  it  the  needed 
 infinite  redemption,  built  in  the  counsels  of  the  eternal  mercy,  the  golden 
 bridge  by  which  every  sinner  may  return.  In  the  mystery  of  that  Life  and 
 Death,  at  once  true  human  and  inalienably  Divine,  is  the  origin  of  all 
 grace.  He  is  the  link  between  the  Finite  and  the  Infinite  ;  therefore  He 
 is  the  Way  whereby  we  come  to  God,  and  whereby  God  communicates 
 Himself  to  us.  In  that,  by  reason  of  His  humanity,  we  are  the  brethren 
 of  the  Son  of  God,  so  are  we  heirs  of  the  Heavenly  Kingdom.  In  His 
 Sonship  is  the  eternal  Fatherhood  of  God  revealed.  In  that  He  died.  He 
 conquered  death  ;  in  that  He  lived  and  liveth,  He  is  the  door  of  Life 
 Eternal. 
 
 On  all  this,  I  say,  the  Catholic  Church  insists — and  with  far  keener  and 
 more  eager  vigilance  than  any  other  of  the  confessions.  For  if  Christ  be 
 not  God,  she  feels,  then  is  our  hope  vain.  If  He,  who  on  a  score  of 
 critic  al  occasions  claimed  to  be  Divine,  was  but  a  madman  or  a  fraud,  let 
 us  not  play  at  Christianity — let  us  rather  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we 
 die.  Because  from  the  first  she  guarded  this  essential  truth  before  all  else, 
 therefore  she  spent  centuries  in  defining  and  maintaining  the  doctrine  of 
 l)ie  1  linily  ana  the  related  doctrine  of  the  Person  of  Christ,  the  Human 
 and  Divine.  'I'he  elaborate  formula  of  the  Nicene  theology  and  the  rest 
 are  nut  scholastic  subtleties  or  the  (juibbles  of  an  oriental  fancy  :  they  are 
 t^e  necessary  basis  and  security  of  the  vital  lact  of  Christianity.  It  is 
 either  these,  or  nothing. 
 
 And  as  she  has  insisted  always  on  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  so,  for 
 exactly  the  same  reason,  she  has  been  careful  to  ujjhold  the  honourable 
 prerogative  of  her,  whom  from  the  earliest  centuries  she  has  styled  the 
 Mother  of  God.  W  onderful,  indeed,  it  is  to  any  Catholic  to  hear  the  stale 
 invectives  which  are  still  bestowed  on  "  Mariolatry,"  as  if  somehow  the 
 worshij)  of  the  Divine  were  squandered  on  a  creaune ;  for  there  lives  no 
 
THE   CHURCH  CATHOLIC.  453 
 
 Catliolic  so  ignorant  as  not  to-  be  able  to  tell  you  the  true  answer — that  we 
 honour  her  precisely  because  to  do  otherwise  would  be  to  ignore  the  real 
 Godhead  of  her  Son. 
 
 Believing,  then,  that  Christ  is  the  "  very  God  of  very  God,"  who  took 
 upon  Himself  the  human  nature  and  dwelt  with  us  on  earth  awhile,  the 
 Church  presents  His  earthly  work  under  four  different  aspects — though 
 these  also  are  in  truth  the  same.  He  is  ihe  Saviour  of  the  world  ;  He  is 
 the  Revelation  of  the  Truth  of  God;  He  is  the  Perfect  Life;  and  He  is 
 the  Founder  of  the  si>iritu3l  kingdom.  You  will  see  that  each  and  all  of 
 these  grow  naturally  and  at  once  out  of  the  main  conception  of  His  nature 
 and  His  office.  In  the  world-reconciliation,  it  was  needful  that  men  should 
 learn  to  know  God  better,  and  that  they  should  be  taught  to  do  His  will, 
 seeing  that  the  human  wisdom  and  human  good  intentions  had  not  sufficed. 
 Equally,  as  I  have  sought  to  show  you,  was  it  necessary  that  an  abiding 
 institute  should  be  created — not  indeed  a  kingdom  of  this  world,  but  yet 
 a  palpable,  continuing,  organic  fact — a  sure  custodian  and  an  abiding 
 witness. 
 
 On  some  of  these  points  I  have  dwelt  already — of  all,  there  is  abundant 
 notice  in  the  Gospel  texts.  To  insist  on  them  at  length  here  would  carry 
 me  beyond  my  scope.  I  pass  therefore  at  once  to  say  that  beyond  this 
 fundamental  insistence  on  the  Divine  character  of  Christ,  there  is  another 
 derivative  sense  in  which  the  Catholic  Church  insists  constantly  upon  the 
 supernatural. 
 
 I  said  that,  in  her  view,  the  life  of  man  must  needs  be  constantly  assisted 
 by  the  spiritual  help  of  God ;  and  that  she  presents  the  life  and  death 
 of  Christ  as  being,  in  the  design  of  Providence,  the  fountain  of  this  un- 
 failing Grace. 
 
 Now  it  is  her  special  pride  and  office  to  be  a  means  of  salvation  avail- 
 able to  all — to  be  a  Church  truly  Catholic,  to  whom  nothing  of  humanity 
 is  alien,  from  whom  the  beggar  can  draw  spiritual  wealth  as  surely  as  the 
 prince  or  the  professor,  though  they  too  find,  if  th-ey  will  seek  it,  all  the 
 special  help  they  need.  To  the  end  that  there  should  be  in  the  world  such 
 tangible  and  easy  ways  of  entering  into  the  Heavenly  Communion,  of  ap- 
 propriating, each  poor  nature  for  itself,  the  riches  of  the  treasure  of  the 
 Lord,  the  Church  believes  that  Christ  ordained  that  series  of  symbolic 
 rites,  adapted  to  the  crises  of  our  life,  which  we  call  Sacraments  ;  and  that 
 it  was  His  will  to  appoint  concerning  these  that  they  should  be  to  His 
 disciples  (apart  from  prayer)  the  ordinary  channels  of  the  communication 
 of  that  grace  and  pardon  and  spiritual  sustenance  which  in  and  through 
 the  office  of  our  Saviour  we  claim  from  the  Almighty.  True  is  it,  that  this 
 infinite  ocean  of  Love  is  waiting  for  us  all  the  while.  Yet,  in  the  spiritual 
 order.  Love,  too,  has  its  own  laws,  and  this  is  one  of  them.  That  by 
 Christ's  appointment  we  draw  its  channels  into  our  souls  as  freely  and  as 
 fully  as  we  will,  or  as  our  capacity  for  receiving  it  will  allow,  by  obeying  the 
 
454  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 sacrr.niental  ordinances  of  the  Christian  dispensation  in  faith  and  love  and, 
 humlle  trust  in  Him. 
 
 I  need  not  tell  you — for  it  is  patent — that  of  this  sacramental  system 
 the  central  fact  is  that  which  more  than  any  theoretic  point  marks  off  the. 
 life  of  the  Church  Catholic  from  everything  beyond  it — the  acceptance  of; 
 the  Real  Presence  of  the  Lord  upon  our  altars  under  the  sacramental  form. 
 
 To  those  who  approach  this  as  mere  critics,  bringing  neither  personal 
 experience  nor  sympathy  to  aid  tliem,  no  man  can  hope  to  say  what  it 
 implies.  To  them  I  will  only  say,  "  You  read  the  '  Imitation '  and  you  hold 
 it  a  great  book — one  of  the  treasures  of  the  world — a  mirror  and  revelation 
 of  the  holiest  in  man.  Read,  then,  the  sacramental  chapters  of  that  soul- 
 swaying  meditation,  and  go  back  and  scoff  at  us,  if  you  can."  Or  let  them 
 go,  if  they  prefer  life  to  literature,  into  any  Catholic  church  —  not  at  a  fashion- 
 able midday  Mass,  but  in  the  early  morning,  on  some  great  day  like  Easter 
 or  the  Birth  of  Christ— and  watch  the  still,  rapt  gladness  that  has  fallen  on 
 the  meanest  faces,  watch  the  fellowship  and  democracy  of  the  altar  rails, 
 catch  the  energy  of  better  effort  and  of  new  beginning,  and  the  enthusiasm 
 of  sincere  repentance,  and  the  nobility  of  high  worship  that  makes  the 
 air  electric,  and  tell  us,  if  they  can,  that  it  is  all  no  more  than  mummery 
 and  priestcraft,  folly  countersigned  by  fraud. 
 
 All  this  may  be  deception,  you  will  say ;  and  undoubtedly,  although 
 subjective  testimony  may  be  much  to  us  who  have  believed,  to  others  it  is 
 at  the  best  a  noticeable  phenomenon.  Something  more  is  wanted.  We 
 must  show  a  reason  for  our  faith  in  this  most  startling  or  most  mystic 
 doctrine  of  a  spiritual  Presence  that  transcends  not  only  sense  but  maddest 
 inuigination,  of  which  yet  there  is  no  outward  sign  at  all. 
 
 Our  first  reason,  naturally,  is  in  the  Bible  text  itself.  We  say,  and  I 
 conicss  I  cannot  conceive  that  an  intelligent  atheist  would  doubt  it,  that 
 Christ  said  neither  more  nor  less  than  what  the  Church  teaches  concerning 
 thj  Eucharist,  not  only  when  He  founded  that  rite  on  the  most  solemn 
 occasion  of  His  intercourse  with  His  Apostles,  but  at  many  other  times  ; 
 and,  above  all,  in  that  test  discussion  which  is  recorded  in  the  sixth 
 chapter  of  St.  John.  But  strong  as  is  the  Scriptural  argument,  the  Church 
 has  another  that  is  perhaps  still  stronger. 
 
 The  doctrine  of  the  Real  Presence,  linked  with  that  of  the  ordinance  of 
 the  Last  Supper  as  a  mystic  yet  most  effectual  commemoration  and  repre- 
 sentation of  the  Passion  of  the  Lord,  is  the  essence  and  import  of  "  the 
 iNLass."  Now  that  great  act  of  common  worship  and  of  mystic  sacrifice, 
 of  solemn  commemoration  and  public  prayer  for  all  the  living  and  the 
 dead,  is,  and  has  always  been,  the  central  oftice  of  the  Church— in  every 
 age  and  nation  substantially,  nay  even  minutely,  the  same.  Being  so  notable 
 a  corporate  act,  it  has  been  always  safe-guarded  by  jealous  provision  for  a 
 sctUcd  liiurgical  form.  There  is  no  time  in  the  history  of  Christendom 
 when  that  liturgy  is  not  before  us  as  a  palpable  and  most  significant 
 record  ;  for  in  every  age  and  under  every  variation  it  testifies  beyond  cavil 
 
THE    CHURCH  CATHOLIC.  455 
 
 to  the  belief  in  a  Real  Sacramental  Presence  of  the  Lord  as  the  whole 
 point  and  meaning  of  the  great  office.  I  suppose  there  are  many  able  and 
 learned  persons  who  imagine,  in  a  very  careless  ignorance,  that  the  Mass 
 is  a  "  fond  thing  vainly  invented  "  somewhere  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Yet 
 nothing  is  more  palpably  untrue. 
 
 The  case  stands  thus.  There  exist  certain  great  types  of  the  Liturgy  of 
 the  Mass — all  perfectly  at  one  in  their  intent  and  doctrine  and  general 
 plan,  and  even  in  their  main  forms  of  prayer  and  in  unexpected  coinci- 
 dences of  i)hrase  and  action,  yet  varying  in  practical  arrangements  and 
 filled  in  with  details  evidently  arising  by  local  usage.  Each  of  these  is 
 cXQdi'cXy  parallel  to  and  not  derived  from  the  others.  Each  is  attributed  by 
 the  local  tradition  to  an  apostle,  who  was  the  early  founder  of  the  local 
 church.  Each  is  carried  up,  by  a  separate  chain  of  documentary  and 
 historical  evidence,  to  a  time  not  very  many  generations  removed  from  the 
 living  witness  of  those  who  saw  and  heard  the  Lord.  What  is  more  clear 
 as  a  mere  matter  of  scientific  historical  criticism,  than  that  these  great 
 trunk  lines  of  liturgical  tratlition  must  have  diverged  from  a  common 
 Apostolic  type  or  norm — and  that  this  type  must  have  been,  as  they  are, 
 a  central  and  sacramental  and  commemorative  office,  involving  a  Real 
 Presence,  and  being  to  them  in  all  essentials  what  the  office  of  the  Mass 
 has  been  to  us  to-day  ? 
 
 Probably  many  of  you  will  be  incredulous,  but  the  proofs  are  very 
 simple.  At  Rome,  we  have  the  Liturgy  which  is  now  the  common,  though 
 by  no  means  the  only  form  used  in  the  Catholic  Church,  and  we  trace  it 
 back  so  far,  that  details  of  its  use  are  attributed  to  Popes  who  ruled  between 
 100  A.D.  and  120  A.I).  The  names  of  the  Saints  commemorated  in  the 
 text  are  known  to  have  been  added  by  gradual  accretion,  and  yet  all  of 
 them,  with  a  solitary  exception,  were  martyred  before  a.d.  310  (the  excepted 
 date  being  362),  while  the  earlier  names  go  back  to  Linus,  Cletus,  and 
 Clement,  the  immediate  successors  of  Peter's  Chair.  Ambrose  of  Milan, 
 himself  the  editor  of  a  special  rite  still  preserved  there,  cites  some  of  the 
 Roman  prayers  soon  after  400  a.d.,  as  being  taken  from  what  he  then 
 called  "  the  ancient  rites."  Like  all  the  others,  it  was  preserved  in  oral 
 tradition,  by  reason  of  the  Discipline  of  the  Secret,  until  the  fifth  century  ; 
 but  we  have  on  record,  in  the  Epistles  of  St.  Linocent  L  in  the  fourth 
 century,  that  Pope's  opinion  that  the  Liturgy  was,  in  fact,  the  true  tradition 
 given  by  St.  Peter  to  the  Church  at  Rome. 
 
 Turn  now  to  the  other  great  rite  preserved  at  Alexandria,  which  in  like 
 manner  was  committed  to  writing  by  St.  Cyril,  Bishop  of  Alexandria,  after 
 400  A.D.,  and  ascribed  by  him  and  by  the  whole  Church  to  the  direct  oral 
 tradition  of  St.  ]\Lirk  himself.  The  internal  evidence  of  the  prayers,  as 
 they  were  then  set  down  and  have  been  since  preserved,  points  to  the 
 period  of  persecution,  say  300  a.d.,  as  the  date  of  some  of  the  added 
 prayers,  the  body  of  the  rite  being  therefore  earlier.  The  condemnation 
 of  the  Eutychian  opinions  in  451  led  to  the  schism  which  detached  all  the 
 
456  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Copts  from  Rome  :    yet  the  Copts  have  to  this  day  a  form  of  the  same 
 Sacramental  Liturgy  of  St.  Mark  and  St.  Cyril,  which  was  old  among  them. 
 
 If  you  go  to  Syria,  the  great  Liturgy  of  Jerusalem,  ascribed  to  the 
 tradition  of  St.  James  himself  and  to  the  direct  development  of  the  Church 
 described  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  is  the  Liturgy  long  used  by  and 
 still  preserved  among  the  Eastern  Eutychians,  who  therefore  held  it  as  the 
 true  tradition  before  450.  The  Nestorians,  who  have  been  sei)arated  since 
 431,  keep  to  this  day  a  related  rite,  named  from  St.  Thadda^us  the  Apostle. 
 Indeed,  we  are  told  that  Nestorius  was  the  first  of  the  schismatics  of  whom 
 it  is  even  alleged  that  he  had  altered  the  ancient  Liturgy.  It  is  curious  to 
 remember  that  the  Portuguese,  when  they  discovered  Malabar  in  the 
 sixteenth  centurj',  found  a  native  church  there  using  this  very  rite  ;  and  it 
 is  now  clear  that  they  had  it  from  the  Nestorian  Church  of  Babylon,  where 
 it  was  in  use  before  400.  But  we  carry  this  rite  still  further  back  with  an 
 absolute  historic  certainty.  For  it  happens  by  good  fortune  that  there  are 
 preserved  to  us  the  Sunday-school  lessons  of  St.  Cyril,  who  was  Bishop  of 
 Jerusalem  in  347.  In  these  he  actually  instructs  his  catechumens  in  the 
 ritual  and  meaning  of  the  Mass,  and  for  that  purpose  he  explains  point  by 
 point  this  venerable  liturgy  of  St.  James,  much  as  we  have  it  still  as  the 
 basis  of  a  hundred  local  rites  throughout  the  Catholic  East. 
 
 Now  each  of  these  three  great  normal  types  of  the  Eucharistic  tradition 
 — that  of  Peter  at  Rome,  that  of  James  at  Jerusalem,  that  of  Mark  at 
 Alexandria — is  perfectly  independent.  No  scholar  can  dream  that  any 
 is  derived  from,  or  even  moulded  by,  any  other.  The  hundreds  of  minor 
 variations  fall  to  the  scholar's  criticism  easily  under  one  or  other  of  these 
 or  other  equally  ancient  types.  But  the  types  themselves  are  sisters,  not 
 inter-dejjendent  but  collateral ;  and  therefore  they  are  sisters  of  a  common 
 stock.  These  three  or  four  most  venerable  types — to  leave  aside  the 
 others — vwolve  an  archetype.  Yet  each  of  them  by  about  the  year  300, 
 was  not  only  established  but  old,  and  based  by  those  who  loved  it  upon  an 
 Apostolic  tradition.  Who  made  the  common  archetype,  I  pray  you,  which 
 Rome  and  Alexandria  and  Jerusalem  and  Babylon  assume }  In  what 
 common  Eucharistic  centre  do  these  traditions  meet  ?  Who  taught  the 
 half-dozen  intervening  generations  to  accept  this  appalling  mystery  with 
 common  certainty,  as  a  thing  not  doubted  even  when  dogmatic  heresy  was 
 rife  and  all  the  world  rang  with  polemical  debate — as  a  thing  which  every 
 schismatic  took  with  him,  whatever  else  he  left?  Who  taught  it,  I  ask,  or 
 could  have  taught  it,  but  the  Master  who  on  the  world-historic  night,  com- 
 manded them  to  do  in  memory  of  Him  the  solemn  act  which  He  did 
 then. 
 
 If  you  still  doubt  what  I  say  of  the  Apostolic  origin  of  the  Eucharistic 
 Act,  I  would  have  you  read  what  is  not  hard  of  access — the  Apologia  of 
 Justin,  who  is  called  the  "  Philosopher,"  addressed  as  early  as  138  a.d.  to 
 Antoninus  Pius,  in  defence  of  the  Christian  faith.  Therein,  speaking 
 generally  of  the  existing  rites,  for  he  had  lived  in  Syria  and  at  Alexandria 
 
THE   CHURCH  CATHOLIC.  457 
 
 and  Rome,  he  describes  the  outline  of  the  Mass.  As  the  core  and  lieart 
 of  it,  he  insists  in  plain  terms  on  the  doctrine  of  the  Heal  Presence. 
 With  great  simplicity  and  directness  he  bases  both  the  doctrine  and  the 
 office  upon  the  institutionary  words  of  Christ.  And  as  if  to  exclude  any 
 caviller  who  might  suppose  it  a  new  idea  of  his  own  or  his  contemporaries, 
 he  goes  on  to  remark  as  a  striking  fact  that  "  the  evil  spirits  "  (as  he  puts 
 it)  "have  introduced  this  very  solemnity  into  the  mysteries  of  Mithra," 
 the  then  fashionable  ritualism  of  Rome  ;  proving  so  that  to  his  knowledge, 
 —  and  he  was  a  master  of  all  the  schools  before  his  baptism, — the  Mass 
 was  older  than  these  fantastic  Eastern  rites,  and  was,  in  fact,  as  it  claimed 
 to  be,  the  commemorative  office  framed  by  those  who  first  received  the 
 Eucharist  at  the  very  hands  of  Christ. 
 
 If  then  the  Mass  we  have  to-day  was  known  as  the  ancient  and  un- 
 doubted worship  of  the  Cliurches  by  this  Syrian  convert,  born  when  John, 
 if  dead,  was  only  just  dead,  and  to  whom  John's  personal  disciples  and 
 the  immediate  followers  of  James  and  Paul  must  have  been  known,  what 
 will  you  say?  If  the  "Supper  of  the  Lord,"  which  Paul  was  setting  in 
 order  among  the  Corinthians  about  50  a.d.,  was  not  the  same  thing  as 
 Justin  was  admitted  to  about  120  a.d.,  who  altered  it?  Not  the  beloved 
 disciple,  or  his  pupil  if  you  will,  who  wrote  the  Fourth  Gospel  ;  for  the 
 Fourth  Ciospel  insists  most  markedly  on  this  very  Eucharistic  doctrine. 
 Not  the  Church  at  Rome ;  for  there,  as  I  have  said,  the  tradition  preserved 
 by  well  remembered  records  from  the  joint  martyrdom  of  Peter  and  Paul 
 down  to  the  Sacramentary  of  Gclasius  is  unbroken  by  any  hint  of  variance. 
 The  answer  is  that  there  is  no  change,  no  innovation ;  only  an  untiring 
 effort  to  hold  fast  the  ordinance  of  the  Saviour,  who  left  it  as  His  most 
 precious  legacy  when  He  went  out  to  die. 
 
 Terrible  it  is,  if  you  will — surpassing  human  speech — this  point  of 
 heavenly  fire  that  lives  within  our  worship.  You  will  tell  me  it  is  vain  to 
 trace  it  back  to  the  Apostles,  for  the  thing  itself  is  past  believing.  I  admit 
 that  if  Christ  be  not  (lod,  our  hope  is  vain — our  holy  office,  as  you  say,  a 
 mummery — our  Communion  with  the  Pord  of  Heaven  and  Earth  a  bitter 
 fraud.  But  I  warn  you  that  if  you  come  with  me  so  far  as  to  agree  that 
 Christ  was,  and  that  He  was  Divine,  you  must  come  further.  If  you 
 repudiate  the  whole  record,  I  understand  you.  But  every  competent  critic 
 now  admits  that  quite  worthy  witnesses  are  before  us.  If  you  take  the 
 witness  as  of  any  weight  at  all,  you  cannot  put  aside  the  clear  consensus 
 and  wilful  repetition  of  the  three  Synoptics  who  record  the  words  of  in- 
 stitution ;  nor  the  still  fuller  and  more  deliberate  enforcement  of  the  same 
 by  Paul ;  nor,  above  all,  that  vivid  dramatic  sermon  in  the  sixth  of  John. 
 
 I  have  dwelt  long  upon  the  subject  of  the  Mass  and  of  the  Eucharistic 
 doctrine.  It  is,  I  think,  an  obvious  dividing  line  between  those  concep- 
 tions of  faith  and  worship  which  in  our  own  day  are  tending  towards 
 Catholicism,  and  those  which  lead  away  from  it.  I  have  only  time  to  pass 
 now  to  one  other  aspect  of  the  Catholic  Church,  in  which  it  appeals  with 
 
458  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 peculiar  force  to  the  present  struggling  generation,   and  to  the  coming 
 time. 
 
 As  the  root  idea  of  the  Protestant  Reformers  was  fiat  individualism,  so 
 the  dominant  note  of  the  Catholic  conception  of  the  world  is  solidarity. 
 In  the  beginning,  the  Church  was  all  but  a  communism.  In  the  days  of 
 persecution,  all  who  had,  without  other  compulsion  than  the  love  that 
 Christ  revealed,  gave  up  their  wealth  to  feed  the  needy  \  and  this  fraternal 
 distribution  was  directly  organized  by  the  Church.  At  all  times,  though 
 she  has  allowed  private  property,  she  has  suggested  that  to  forego  it  is 
 the  better  way.  At  all  times,  to  those  who  keep  their  own,  she  has 
 preached  a  far-reaching  duty  of  charity  to  all  tlie  world,  which,  if  it  were 
 carried  out,  would  leave  little  disparity  to  mourn. 
 
 As  in  property,  so  in  all  else.  The  universal  brotherhood  has  been  to 
 her  no  empty  name,  but  a  world-reforming  fact  and  law.  Strongly,  through 
 bribe  and  menace,  she  has  striven  to  uphold  the  equality  of  prince  and 
 peasant  before  the  moral  code  ;  and  it  is  her  pride  to  remember  that  even 
 when  the  hatred  of  the  English  Crown  was  the  penalty  of  refusal,  a  weak 
 and  hunted  and  tormented  Pope  refused  to  mete  out  to  the  Tudor  any 
 other  marriage  law  than  would  be  meted  out  to  the  meanest  hind  within 
 his  realm. 
 
 And  no  less  is  it  our  pride  that  we  can  say  that  while  the  Church  stood 
 upright,  here  and  elsewhere — even  to  the  latest  hour  of  what  they  call  her 
 worst  corruption — she  provided  for  the  people  a  career,  far  more  sure  an(i 
 better  worth  their  following  than  the  most  advanced  democracy  has  given 
 them  since. 
 
 Take  the  great  Churchmen,  who,  by  their  sheer  ability  and  learning,  did 
 the  chief  part  of  the  government  of  the  world  for  many  a  century.  They 
 are  a  noble  line,  promoted  often  to  an  almost  royal  dignity,  and  in  the 
 vast  majority  of  cases  for  no  reason  except  their  talents,  or  their  virtues, 
 or  both  ;  and  of  these  men  an  enormous  multitude  are  the  children  of  the 
 poor.  There  was  not  a  country  side  that  had  not  within  reach  its  abbey 
 or  its  cathedral ;  and  where  a  peasant  lad  showed  promise,  and  desired  at 
 once  to  serve  God  and  to  make  his  life  useful  upon  a  wider  plane,  it  was 
 very  certain  he  would  be  put  to  school  and  made  a  "  clerk  ;  "  and  once  a 
 clerk,  the  Church  to  him  was  but  an  organized  democracy,  wherein  nothing, 
 even  to  the  Papal  chair,  was  inaccessible  to  merit.  You  have  sown  the 
 land  with  schools;  you  have  improved  the  Poor  Law  and  multiplied 
 philanthropies ;  and  you  do  well  :  but  for  all  these  things  it  was  easier  for 
 the  deserving  helpless  ones  of  the  earth  to  tind  help  in  their  need,  and 
 easier  for  those  whom  God  endowed  with  power  to  find  their  rightful 
 place,  before  Henry  sacked  the  monasteries  and  made  himself  the  Englisli 
 Pope. 
 
 If  you  pass  to  social  or  to  political  liberty,  it  is  still  the  same.  In  the 
 Brotherhood  of  Christ  the  Church  saw  neither  bond  nor  free.  The  patrician 
 maiden  and  the  slave-girl,  in  the  Acts  of  the  Early  Martyrs,  meet  as  equals 
 
THE   CHURCH  CATHOLIC.  459 
 
 and  as  friends.  As  swiftly  as  human  inertia  allowed,  the  Churcli  abolished 
 slavery.  In  the  home,  she  found  woman  degraded  by  the  licentiousness 
 of  the  age.  She  freed  them  at  a  stroke  when  she  declared  that  marriage 
 was  a  Sacrament  of  God;  and  when  she  placed  above  her  altars,  as  tlie 
 symbol  next  in  holiness  to  the  Incarnate  God,  her  stainless  ideal  of 
 womanhood  and  maternity,  she  did  more  to  hold  in  check  men's  proneness 
 to  brutality  than  all  the  laws  that  ever  punished  crime.  In  our  own  and 
 every  other  struggling  commonwealth,  when  the  feudal  power  was  at  its 
 worst,  and  threatened  to  engulf  for  ever  the  liberties  of  the  tenants  of  the 
 soil,  it  was  the  Church  more  than  any  other  single  force  that  bearded  these 
 lords  of  war,  and  made  it  possible  for  the  common  people  to  achieve  their 
 liberty.  So  it  was  the  Church  that  gave  articulate  voice  to  justice  and  to 
 civic  reason,  in  adapting  first  and  in  administering  afterwards  the  codes  of 
 written  law ;  and  here,  as  everywhere,  she  was  but  seeking,  after  the  rough- 
 liewn  fashion  of  human  institutions,  to  carry  out  Christ's  paramount  com- 
 mandment—the Law  of  Love. 
 
 But  not  only  within  each  single  state  was  she  a  power  for  justice  and 
 emancipation — she  was  more  and  greater  than  them  all.  By  the  character 
 of  her  Catholic  title  and  her  Catholic  commission,  she  held  up  before  the 
 peoples  the  ideal  of  a  world-community.  Amid  the  lawless  violence  of  the 
 mail-clad  centuries,  she  provided  at  least  a  possible  arbiter.  And  however 
 men  may  sneer  at  the  ambition  of  the  Popes,  the  Euroi)ean  peace  would 
 be  much  nearer  than  it  is  to-day  if  the  notable  example  of  Prince  Bismarck 
 could  be  adopted  as  a  commonplace  of  diplomacy. 
 
 When  the  Empire  fell,  the  Church  upheld  its  claim.  To  this  hour,  she 
 refuses  in  the  name  of  her  commission,  and  she  will  refuse,  to  bind  herself 
 by  any  frontiers,  or  to  be  otherwise  than  independent  in  her  own  field  of 
 every  national  government  whether  it  wears  its  crown  in  Rome  or  no.  She 
 know^s  that  the  world-progress  is  hampered  while  our  narrow  frontiers  hedge 
 us  in  with  prejudice  and  tarifis,  and  our  national  self-seekings  and  distorted 
 patriotisms  keep  all  the  nations  lowering  at  each  other  like  caged  beasts, 
 and  stifle  industry  and  freedom  and  every  noble  thing  beneath  the  im- 
 measurable load  of  military  preparation  ;  she  looks  for  a  better  time  when 
 the  human  brotherhood  may  be,  even  in  statecraft,  a  practical  reality. 
 
 Yet  not  even  here  can  I  pause.  For  if  she  prophesies  of  a  World-State, 
 and  laughs  at  the  litde  fences  statesmen  draw  upon  the  map,  no  less  does 
 she  bid  us  think  of  even  such  a  commonwealth  as  but  one  province  of  the 
 Heavenly  Kingdom.  "  The  Church  "  to  her  cannot  be  bounded  by  the 
 little  scene  whereon  we  play  our  parts  a  little  while  ;  for  the  Church  is  the 
 Body  of  Christ.  In  our  Father's  house  there  are  many  mansions;  and 
 this  is  but  the  outer  porch.  Beyond  the  grave  her  children  are  not  far 
 away.  She  has  taught  and  always  teaches  that  they  are  linked  to  us,  and 
 we  to  them,  in  that  Community  of  Saints  which  reaches  upwards  to  the 
 throne  of  God.  It  may  be  that  they,  our  brethren,  are  of  the  company  ot 
 tlie  Church  Suffering — purging  away,  by  what  endurance  and  patience  and 
 
46o  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 travail  we  know  not,  the  mortal  stains  they  carried  from  the  warfare  of  the 
 Church  Militant,  where  we  were  comrades  and  brethren  in  arms.  It  may- 
 be that  already,  if  with  our  measures  we  can  rightly  appraise  what  with  the 
 immortals  takes  the  place  of  time,  they  have  passed  into  that  other 
 company  of  the  Church  Triumphant,  whose  place  is  in  the  sight  of  God. 
 Yet  wheresoever  they  may  be,  our  comrades,  we  can  reach  our  hands  to 
 them  and  they  to  us,  in  prayer  and  spiritual  fellowship,  and  unseen  in 
 God's  ordering  a  common  life  goes  on.  Members  we  are  then,  of  one 
 another — here  and  in  the  unknown  :  members  of  one  transcendent  spiritual 
 yet  organic  whole —  and  that  whole  is  the  Body  of  Christ. 
 
 Endless,  of  course,  are  the  things  that  yet  remain  to  say  concerning  the 
 
 great  tradition  of  the  Catholic  teaching.     Endless  also,  I  believe,  are  the 
 
 ways  in  which  it  would  be  well  for  us  and  for  our  children,  if  the  Catholic 
 
 Truth  were  so  stated  in  our  modern  speech,  that  those  who  now  say  that 
 
 every  Catholic  must  needs  be  either  knave  or  fool,  could  understand  the 
 
 things  that  they  despise.     For  the  present  purpose  I  am  content  if  I  have 
 
 been  able  in  any  measure  to  set  forth  these  three  outstanding  aspects  of 
 
 the  Catholic  belief— the  claim  of  the   Living  Voice,  the  treasure  of  the 
 
 Sacraments,    the   Brotlierhood  of  the  Body  of  Christ.      Like  all   else  in 
 
 Truth,  they  are  but  different  aspects  of  the  same  thing, — the  apjilication, 
 
 namely,  of  the  work  of  Christ  to  the  needs  of  all  humanity.     They   are 
 
 the  same   in  this  also,  that  in  each  there  comes  the  note  of  Catholicity. 
 
 In  Christ  all  men  are  one, — and  that,  not  merely  in  any  formal  or  theoretic 
 
 imity,  but  in  a  brotherhood  which,  if  we  could  once  translate  it  into  the 
 
 formula;  of  government,  would  leave  Democracies  and  Socialisms  behind. 
 
 ■"J'hose  who  take  themselves  to  be  the  best  exponents  of  Western  civili- 
 zation, have  been  accustomed  of  late  to  treat  the  Church  wiih  scant 
 courtesy;  and  I  agree  that  if,  as  some  of  them  suppose,  religion,  and 
 perhaps  duty  also,  is  altogether  to  vanish  from  the  earth,  then  the  study  of 
 Catholicism  would  be  but  a  waste  of  energy.  But  if,  as  I  believe,  the 
 moral  and  religious  consciousness  of  man  be  no  less  a  fact  than  knowlc'ge 
 or  physical  growth  or  life  or  death,  then  I  claim  that  this  transcendent  ex- 
 pression of  religion  through  the  Christian  centuries  demands  a  hearing 
 from  them  all.  They  call  it  dead,  yet  it  is  more  alive,  in  the  moulding  of 
 humanity,  than  all  their  schools.  They  say  it  belongs  to  a  forgotten  past, 
 but  there  are  not  wanting  signs  that  it  shall  inherit  the  future.  In  the  field 
 of  ethics  and  religion,  England,  like  the  rest,  is  dividing  rapidly  into  two 
 camps — those  who  do  and  those  who  do  not  hold  that  religion  is  unneces- 
 sary and  any  reality  of  God  superfluous.  When  that  division  is  complete, 
 it  will  be  seen  that  the  walls  of  the  camp  of  the  believers  are  but  the  fold 
 of  the  Catholic  Church. 
 
 In  the  field  of  social  and  political  relations  the  old  order  changes  day 
 by  (lay  more  swiftly.  Much  is  gone  and  more  will  go.  Surely  one  thing 
 is  clear:  that  neither  just  industry  nor  social  health  nor  noble  government 
 is  possible,    unless  we  build  on  something  better  than  selfseeking,  and 
 
THE   CHURCH  CATHOLIC.  461 
 
 appeal  to  something  liolier  than  "  the  desire  of  a  remembered  pleasure  "  ? 
 Individualism,  and  the  Manchester  School,  and  freedom  of  contract,  and 
 all  the  theories  that  sought  justice  in  the  war  of  interests  and  progress  in 
 the  clash  of  infinite  selfishness,  are  being  carried  out  before  our  eyes  to 
 burial.  Protestantism  is  fighting  for  its  life  with  organic  disintegration  and 
 intellectual  doubt,  to  which  it  can  oppose  neither  a  reasoned  philosophy  of 
 life  nor  any  authoritative  gospel.  It  cannot  rescue  the  body  politic,  for  it 
 cannot  save  itself.  The  masses  leave  it  on  the  one  side,  and  the  leaders  of 
 opinion  on  the  other.  Is  there  no  hope  at  all,  of  light  and  leadership  in 
 the  coming  time  ? 
 
 I  submit  to  you  that  the  promises  of  the  Messiah  have  not  failed.  His 
 followers  were  the  social  saviours  of  the  earlier  Europe ;  it  is  not  more 
 difficult  to  help  the  centuries  that  lie  before  us.  That  which  He  promised 
 to  uphold,  lives  on  ;  and,  gathering  up  the  ancient  truth  and  the  modern 
 hope,  it  points  the  nations,  now  as  always,  to  that  true  RepubHc,  where 
 freedom  is  the  law  of  duly  ;  where  all  are  equal  as  the  sons  of  God ;  and 
 where  fraternity  is  the  willing  service  of  the  brotherhood  of  Christ,  when 
 the  Kingdom  of  the  Lord  shall  come. 
 
THE    MASS. 
 
 By  B.  F.  C.  Costelloe,  M.A. 
 
 I  FELT  that  I  was  attempting  a  difficult  task  when  I  ventured  to  address 
 you  last  year  on  the  broad  subject  of  "The  Church  Catholic."  Your 
 kindness  and  patience  then  have  made  me  think  it  possible  to  accept  your 
 renewed  invitation,  and  to  speak  to  you  of  a  subject  harder  still  for  me  to 
 deal  with  wisely  and  for  you  to  rightly  apprehend  ;  for  I  suppose  there  is 
 not  one  of  the  institutions  of  the  world  which  has  been,  and  is,  so  great  a 
 stumbling-block  to  modern  Englishmen  as  is  that  great  historic  and  spiritual 
 fact  which  is  the  subject  of  this  address. 
 
 I  have  taken  it  for  two  converse  reasons.  To  all  Catholics  it  is,  and  has 
 been  since  Christianity  began,  the  very  heart  and  centre  of  the  spiritual 
 life.  To  the  majority  of  Englishmen,  and  to  most  of  you,  it  must  have 
 hitherto  seemed  to  be  a  relic  of  barbarism  and  a  psychological  enigma. 
 The  very  name  of  the  "  Mass  "  has  been  for  centuries  a  byword  among 
 you,  connoting  to  the  unheeding  generation  of  our  fathers  only  an  exploded 
 superstition  and  an  aimless  mummery.  In  our  own  time,  since  Protestan- 
 tism of  the  original  type  has  begun  to  give  way  before  the  advance  of  a 
 more  consistent  unbelief,  the  great  names  and  uses  of  the  Church  have 
 not  been  visited  with  so  much  obloquy, —  perhaps,  with  some,  because  they 
 have  been  relegated  to  a  deeper  contempt.  Yet  I  dare  to  hold  and  say 
 that  what  lack  there  is  among  you  of  sympathy,  of  respect,  nay,  of  belief, 
 is  in  the  main  the  outcome  not  of  an  evil  will,  but  of  a  lack  of  opportunity  ; 
 and  it  is  for  that  reason  that  I  make  bold  to  try  if  at  least  some  poor 
 beginning  may  be  made  by  setting  forth  the  Catholic  beliefs  in  language 
 less  strange  to  your  own  habits  of  thought  than  is  the  common  language  of 
 our  books  of  doctrine  or  devotion.  That  the  task  is  too  great  for  me,  I 
 know  only  too  well.  I  have  neither  the  knowledge  nor  the  spiritual  insight, 
 neither  the  preparatory  training  nor  the  official  authority,  which  that  man 
 must  have  who  would  state  the  truths  of  God  to  this  hurrying  generation. 
 And  yet,  poor  preachers  thougli  we  be,  there  lies,  I  think,  on  all  of  us  a 
 duty,  when  occasion  comes,  to  do  our  little  spell  of  work  in  building  up 
 the  roads  of  truth.  In  the  day  of  beginnings  we  may  be  able  to  do-little; 
 but  if  we  do  our  liille  work  in  God's  own  time,  "  tliat  prophet"  shall  rise. 
 London  is  not  more  proud  of  the  swift  advant  e  of  culture  than  was 
 Florence  in  its  new  birth  of  knowledge  and  triumphant  art  ;  yet  Savona- 
 rola led  Florence  captive,  in  tlie  power  of  God.  London  is  not  half  so 
 hopeless  of  Christianity,  not  half  so  sunk  in  the  mad  endeavour  to  fill  up 
 
 the  void  of  the  spirit  with  the  sweet  things  of  the  flesh,  as  was  the  Paris 
 
 463 
 
THE  MASS.  463 
 
 of  fifty  years  ago  ;  and  yet  all  Paris  was  swept  into  reverent  attention  by 
 the  voice  of  Lacordaire.  Pray  with  me,  my  friends,  if  you  still  pray,  that 
 God  may  send  His  prophet  unto  us  also — if  it  be  but  as  one  crying  in  the 
 wilderness,  that  after  all  the  long  confusion,  the  way  of  the  Lord  may  be 
 made  straight  again,  and  His  good  tidings  preached  abroad  ;  so  that  they 
 who  have  ears  to  hear — they  who  have  not  stopped  the  ears  God  gave 
 them  with  the  wax  of  self-indulgence  or  with  the  wool  of  slipshod,  careless, 
 idle  ways  of  thought — may  hear  and  understand. 
 
 I  have  said  that  to  the  majority  of  the  English  people  the  Mass  is  a 
 byword  ;  and  yet  there  is  a  large  and  important  section  of  them  who  have 
 nevertheless  been  drifting  steadily  towards  all  forms  of  Catholic  usage  and 
 belief.  Those  who  are  not  of  them  may  mix  but  little  among  them  ;  but 
 if  they  would  reckon  with  the  currents  of  the  time,  they  cannot  overlook 
 the  startling  growth  of  a  pro-Catholic  party  in  England.  I  do  not  mean 
 the  mere  triflers  in  ecclesiastical  fancy  work.  I  mean  those  who  speak  of 
 sacramental,  of  eucharistic,  doctrine  in  terms  an  outsider  would  not  easily 
 be  able  to  discriminate  from  our  own.  The  fact  has  its  significance,  even 
 for  the  world  of  unbelief  If  you  count  those  who,  since  Newman,  have 
 joined  the  Church  outriglit  with  those  who  have  come  so  close  to  it  that 
 for  this  purpose  they  are  our  allies,  you  will  find  that  there  is  a  Catholic 
 school  of  thought  among  you  whicli  may  well  claim  a  respectful  hearing. 
 Men  who  are  eminent  in  politics  ought  to  be  no  bad  judges  of  a  thing  so 
 human  as  religious  tendencies — and  it  is  a  curious  fact  that  the  actual 
 chiefs  of  both  the  political  j^arties  are  earnest  and  avowed  believers  in 
 everything  probably  which  I  shall  have  to  say  to-day. 
 
 It  is  not  much  to  count  heads,  but  we  have  startling  things  to  say,  which 
 to  many  of  you  may  seem  but  a  midsummer  madness.  Therefore,  we 
 l)ray  you  to  remember  that,  apart  from  other  times  and  other  lands,  there 
 are  those  among  your  political  leaders,  among  your  judges  and  your 
 greatest  lawyers,  among  your  best  scientific  men,  and  in  every  rank  and 
 circumstance  of  English  life,  who,  being  no  more  fools  than  any  of  you, 
 yet  find  it  possible  and  imperative  to  believe  these  strange  and  startling 
 things,  as  truths  for  wliich  they  would  be  well  content  to  die,  if  need  were, 
 and  by  which,  as  their  main  spiritual  stay,  they  live  their  daily  life  among 
 you.  This  does  not  begin  to  prove  that  our  beliefs  are  true  ;  but  it  does 
 prove  that  they  are  not  incredible. 
 
 How  shall  I  even  begin  to  speak  of  it  ?  To  us  of  the  family  of  the 
 faith  it  is  a  fact  so  familiar,  so  closely  woven  in  with  all  we  know  of  God 
 and  of  the  spiritual  experience,  that  we  hardly  put  it  into  words.  You 
 may  haunt  our  ceremonies  and  know  our  printed  prayers  by  heart,  yet  if 
 you  do  not  bring  to  them  some  Catholic  sense,  3-ou  will  find  but  the 
 tinkling  cymbal  and  the  sounding  brass.  In  the  first  centuries  it  was  pre- 
 eminently "  the  secret " — that  fact  of  the  new  life  so  holy,  so  beloved,  that 
 no  profane  eye  should  see  it,  and  none  but  they  who  were  prepared  to  love 
 it  should  even  know  the  mystery.     We  have  fallen  far,  in  these  easy  times, 
 
464  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 below  the  fervour  of  their  devotion ;  yet  in  our  measure  the  same  is  true  of 
 us.  To-day,  as  then, — in  this  city,  as  in  the  catacombs, — it  is  the  secret 
 of  holy  souls,  the  guarded  heart  of  fire  in  many  a  commonplace,  unnoticed 
 life.  Outwardly  it  may  seem  to  you  often  a  trivial  thing,  with  tinkling 
 bells  and  inartistic  ornament ;  but  equally  in  the  silence  and  the  song,  in 
 the  poverty  and  in  the  pride,  it  is  the  tense  communion  of  our  myriads  of 
 souls,  each  for  itself  and  in  its  own  way,  with  the  hidden  presence  of  the 
 Lord.  The  Mass  is  the  one  essential  act  of  the  public  worship  of  the 
 Church.  It  is  designed  to  combine  the  new  idea  of  a  sacrament  with  the 
 old  tradition  of  a  sacrifice.  It  is  in  truth  a  hundred  things  in  one — as 
 complete  in  its  adaptation  to  every  private  need  as  it  is  rigid  in  its  ritual 
 adherence  to  the  canons  of  the  earliest  liturgy.  But,  above  and  before  all 
 else,  it  is  the  commemoration  of  the  death  of  Christ,  and  of  that  Last 
 Supper  when  He  left  this  ordinance  to  His  disciples,  as  a  momentous 
 legacy  and  a  last  command. 
 
 There  are  two  linked  beliefs  relating  to  that  Last  Supper  which  must  be 
 borne   in  mind   by  every  one  who  would  approach  in   any  honest  way  the 
 consideration  of  the   Mass.      They  are  the  sacramental  doctrine  of  the 
 Eucharist,  and  the  belief  that  Christ  then  founded  by  His  recorded  words 
 and  deeds  an   ordinance  since  followed   in   the  Liturgies  of  the   Church. 
 The  vindication   of  these  involves,  of  course,  all  Catholicism  :  the   testi- 
 mony and  value  of  the  New  Testament,  the   question  of  the  person  and 
 office  of  Christ,  the  reality  of  any  religion,  the  personality  of  God.     The 
 Catholic  view  of  the  world  hangs   together  ;  you   must  take  it  or  reject  it 
 as  a  whole.     It  is,  as  I  have  already  sought  to  show  you,  the  only  consis- 
 tent Christianity — the  only  escape  from  the  quicksands  of  private  interpre- 
 tation or  the  deep  sea  of  sceptical  suspense.     The  i)roof  or  disproof  of  this 
 claim  is   the  ultimate  question.     For  the  present,  however,  I   take  it  that 
 your  chief  desire  is  to  know  tvliat  7c>e  mean  ;  and  therefore  I  say  that,  for 
 the  a[jprehension  of  our  meaning,  you  must  first  realize  that  we  do  in 
 truth  believe  in  the  world-historic  scene  in  that  upper  room.     It  is  in  that 
 narrative — the  account,  as  we   maintain,  of  a  Divine  Person — that  we  find 
 the  key  to  and  the  warrant  for  the  office   of  the  Mass  ;  and   I  think  that 
 unbiassed  readers  will  probably  agree  with  us  that,  if  the  words  recorded 
 were  said  at  all,  their  sense  is  not  really  doubtful.     They  certainly  were 
 not  understood  in  any  but  the  one  way,  either  by  the   Ai)Ostles  or  their 
 immediate  pupils,  or   by  the  ages  of  the  Church,  or  even   by  the  countless 
 heresies,  until  Luther  and  his  friends  went  a-huniing  for  new  interpreta- 
 tions. 
 
 Recall  for  a  moment  the  familiar  story.  The  strange  sending  of  Peter 
 and  John  to  claim  the  room  "  because  the  Master's  time  was  near  at 
 hand  :"  the  keeping  of  their  last  Passover,  with  all  that  it  implied  to  them 
 as  the  central  office  of  the  Jewish  system,  in  which  the  lamb  was  slain  in 
 token  of  the  saving  of  Israel  out  of  the  land  of  bondage  in  the  early 
 days;  the  memory  in  their  minds  of  His   repeated  jjrophecies  that  He 
 
THE  MASS.  465 
 
 would  leave  them  soon,  and  of  that  recent  scene  when  the  Healer  ot 
 Lazarus  rode  into  Jerusalem  amid  the  hosannas  of  the  people,  waving  tri- 
 umphal palms;  the  sudden  shock  when  Jesus  girt  Himself  with  a  towel 
 and  began  to  wash  the  feet  of  all  the  twelve,  that,  as  He  said,  they  might 
 be  "  wholly  clean  "  for  some  great  event  to  come ;  the  high  words  of 
 commission  that  followed,  "Verily  I  say  unto  you.  He  that  receiveth  whom- 
 soever I  send,  receiveth  Me,  and  he  that  receiveth  Me  receiveth  Him  that 
 sent  Me  ;  "  and  then  the  culminating  words  of  institution, — concurrently 
 recorded  with  religious  care  in  the  three  synoptic  gospels,  des'gnedly 
 omitted  in  the  Gospel  of  John, — commemorated  by  the  testimony  of  the 
 Apostolic  writings,  and  by  the  unbroken  tradition  of  the  Church's  Litur- 
 gies,— when  (having  said,  "  With  desire  have  I  desired  to  eat  this  passover 
 with  you  before  I  suffer  ")  "  He  took  bread,  and  giving  thanks  He  brake 
 it  {evxapLa-Trja-as  iKkaae),  and  gave  unto  them,  saying,  Take  and  eat.  This 
 is  My  body  which  is  given  for  you.  This  do  in  commemoration  of 
 Me." 
 
 You  will  know  that  when  He  says,  '^  Do  this"  He  uses  a  word  appro- 
 priate to  a  sacrificial  act,  "  Do  this  office,  perform  this  rite,  in  memory  of 
 Me."  You  will  notice  also,  that  when  He  identifies  the  Eucharistic  Bread 
 with  His  body,  He  is  careful,  according  to  all  the  witnesses,  to  use  the 
 clear  present  tense,  "  My  body  which  is  even  now  being  broken,"  or  (as 
 another  puts  it),  "  being  given  over  to  death"  for  you. 
 
 These  were  strange  sayings,  my  brethren,  either  senseless  or  supernatural. 
 But  they  understood.  For  they  remembered  that  preliminary  lesson  which 
 John  has  recorded  in  his  sixth  chapter,  for  the  confirming  of  this  very 
 teaching  in  a  later  time,  when  much  was  in  danger  of  being  forgotten  or 
 misbelieved.  They  remembered — how  could  they  forget  it  ? — when  to 
 those  cavillers  who  asked  for  such  a  sign  as  was  the  manna  to  their  fathers 
 He  replied,  "/  am  the  Bread  of  I^ife,"  "The  bread  I  will  give  is  My 
 ^esh  ;  "  and  they  cried  out,  "  How  can  this  man — 'this  carpenter's  son — 
 give  us  His  flesh  to  eat  ?  " 
 
 But  His  words  beat  down -on  them  again,  royal,  imperative,  unyielding. 
 "  Moreover,  I  say  to  you,  Except  ye  eat  the  Jlesh  of  the  Son  of  man,  ye 
 have  no  life  in  you.  .  .  .  He  that  eateth  My  fiesh  and  drinkeih  My 
 bloody  dwellith  in  J/^  and  /in  him"  And  now  not  the  Jews  only,  but 
 almost  all  His  followers,  rebelled.  It  is  a  hard  saying — who  can  hear  it  ? 
 "  How  can  we  eat  His  flesh  ?  "  Does  He  retract,  or  soften,  or  explain  ? 
 Nay;  but  as  He  had  begun  by  telling  them  that  the  work  of  God  was  to 
 believe  Him  that  He  had  sent,  so  now  in  this  crisis  of  their  faith  He  asks 
 only  for  belief  again.  And  many — all  but  the  twelve,  it  seems — went  back 
 and  walked  with  Him  no  more.  Did  He  say,  "  Ye  have  taken  a  parable 
 too  literally  ".?  Did  He  offer  a  hidden  meaning?  He  only  turned  sadly, 
 half  wearily,  to  His  twelve,  and  said,  "  Will  ye  too  go  away?  "  And  Peter 
 answered — not,  "It  is  easy ; "  not  "We  understand;"  but  with  a  cry  of 
 faith,  confident  through  all  strange  teaching,  even  as  are  we  Catholics  to- 
 
 VOL.    I. — pt.  2.  I    I 
 
466  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 flay,  that  the  message  was  Divine — "  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go  ?     Thou 
 hast  the  words  of  eternal  life." 
 
 I  have  said  that  the  writer  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  omits  the  words  of 
 institution,  as  being  in  his  day  the  common  knowledge  of  the  Church.  But 
 the  vast  importance  which  he  attaches  to  the  fact  is  made  all  the  more 
 clear  by  the  wonderful  sermon,  burning  with  the  Divine  Love,  and  instinct 
 with  the  idea  of  the  Divine  Communion  as  the  root  of  all  the  holiness  of 
 that  new  life,  which,  like  the  earlier  lesson,  he  alone  reports.  He  wrote 
 somewhere  about  loo  a.d.,  long  after  the  Synoptics  and  the  writings  of  St. 
 Paul.  And  it  is  important  to  notice  that  the  same  connection  between 
 the  idea  of  the  Eucharist  with  its  sacramental  communion  and  the  idea  of 
 the  unity  of  the  Church  as  the  Mystical  Body  of  Christ,  wherein  Christ's 
 life  and  love  must  needs  be  indwelling,  had  been  also  worked  out  in  other 
 forms  by  the  Pauline  Epistles. 
 
 It  is  not  possible  to  detail  within  any  reasonable  limits  the  great  number 
 of  indications  to  be  found  in  the  New  Testament  as  to  the  continuance  by 
 the  earliest  followers  of  Christ  of  a  commemorative  rite,  in  whicli   this 
 "giving  of  thanks"  at  the  "breaking  of  the  bread"  Avas  repeated  in  an 
 evidently  sacramental  sense,  and  as  an  act  of  public  worship.     There  is  a 
 hint  of  it  even  in  the  story  of  Emmaus.     But  immediately  after  Pentecost 
 we  are  told  that  the  converts  "  continued  steadfast  in  the  Apostle's  doc- 
 trine, and  fellowship,  and  in  the  breaking  of  bread,  and  prayer,"  where 
 evidently  this  "  breaking  of  bread  "  is  a  distinctive  note  and  observance  of 
 the  Christians.     A  little  later  their  action  is  described  by  saying  that  they 
 "  continued  daily  with   one  accord  in  the  Temple  "  (at  their  public  resort 
 in  Solomon's  Porch),  and  "breaking  bread  from  house  to  house,"  as  each 
 afforded  that   "upper  room  "  in  which   they  loved   to  commemorate  the 
 Supper  of  the  Lord.     In  the  latter  part  of  the  Acts  there  is  more  explicit 
 notice  of  this  same  observance,  as  of  a  public  gathering  for  worship,  in  the 
 account  plainly  given  by  a  fellow-traveller  and  eye-witness  of  St.  Paul's 
 visit  to  Troas.     They  found  there  an  important  community,  and  the  words 
 of  the  writer  give  us  a  graphic  picture.     He  describes   the  upper  chamber, 
 with  its  many  lights.     He  says  that  on  the  first  day  of  the  week,  when 
 the  disciples  came  together  for  the  breaking  of  bread  (apparently  now 
 a  technical  phrase),  Paul  preached   to  them,  and,  intending  to  depart  on 
 the  morrow,  he  continued  his  discourse  till  midnight.     Then,  after  describ- 
 ing the  accident  and   the  healinc:.  which  was  the  occasion  of  the  narrative, 
 he  goes  straight  on  :   "And  having  come  up  again,  and  having  broken  bread 
 and  eaten,  and  having  conversed  with  them  till  the  dawn,  Paul  departed." 
 Now  it  is  plain  to  any  impartial  reader  of  this  narrative  who  knows  any- 
 thing of  the  other  evidences  concerning  the  early  Church,  that   this  was  a 
 public  Sunday  service  in  commemoration  of  the  Supper  of  the  Lord,  and 
 that  the  "  breaking   of  bread  "  was  the  characteristic  central   act,  to  which 
 St.  Paul's  sermon  was   leading  up,  and  which,  after  the  startling  interrup- 
 tion, he  completed  in  due  form. 
 
THE  MASS.  467 
 
 Apart  from  any  question  of  biblical  inspiration,  it  is  not  possible  to 
 escape  from  the  clear  meaning  (as  a  matter  of  history)  of  certain  passages 
 of  the  Epistles,  such  as  the  tenth  and  eleventh  chapters  of  the  first  letter 
 to  the  Corinthians,  admittedly  one  of  the  earliest  documents  of  the  Church. 
 It  is  a  sermon  against  certain  laxities,  first  as  to  the  temple  meats,  and 
 then  as  to  the  misuse  of  the  "  Agape,"  the  Love  Feast,  combined,  as  is 
 well  known,  with  the  special  celebration  of  the  Sapper.  The  whole  pas- 
 sage is  charged  with  forms  of  expression  and  turns  of  thought  which 
 evidently  refer  to  the  sacramental  conception  of  the  Mass  as  we  hold  ii 
 now.  After  recalling  those  types  of  the  sacraments  of  Christianity  which 
 he  found  in  the  history  of  his  own  people,  he  tells  his  followers,  as  the 
 very  reason  why  they  may  not  be  partakers  of  the  table  of  the  heathen 
 gods,  that  they  are  already  partakers  of  "  that  one  Bread" — "the  bread 
 which  we  break,"  as  he  calls  it — "  which  is  the  communion  of  the  body  of 
 Christ."  That  "  bread  "  is  ///^/r  sacred  sacrifice,  and  they  dare  not  hold 
 it  so  lightly  as  to  let  it  be  supposed  that  the  heathen  travesty  of  sacrifice 
 to  Aphrodite  and  the  rest  was  otherwise  than  an  abhorrence  in  their  eyes. 
 
 In  the  eleventh  chapter  he  is  still  more  explicit.  His  warrant  for  com- 
 ])laining  of  such  unseemly  things  as  happened  when  they  "  came  together 
 for  tlie  eating  of  the  Lord's  Sapper"  is  no  other  (as  he  tells  them)  than 
 the  very  words  of  Christ's  institution,  which  he  repeats  in  full.  "  I  have 
 received  of  the  Lord  that  which  I  delivered  unto  you,  that  the  same  night 
 in  which  He  was  betrayed  He  took  bread,  and  when  He  had  given  thanks 
 He  brake  it,  and  said,  Take,  eat,  this  is  My  body,  which  is  broken  for  you: 
 this  do  in  remembrance  of  Me."  He  tells  them  in  plain  words  that  "  as 
 often  as  they  eat  this  bread  and  drink  this  cup  they  are  showing  forth  the 
 death  of  the  Lord,"  and  he  warns  them  that  if  they  take  part  therein 
 "  unworthily"— if  each  man  does  not  first  prove,  examine,  essay  himself, 
 to  see  that  he  is  void  of  grave  offence,  and  "so  eat  that  bread"— then 
 they  shall  be  "guilty  of  the  body  and'  blood  of  the  Lord,"  and  it  shall 
 bring  the  uttermost  jadgments  upon  them. 
 
 I  can  only  indicate  the  Pauline  argument,  but  every  line  and  word  of 
 it  strengthens  the  conclusion  that  he  is  referring  to  an  Apostolic  archetype 
 of  our  office  of  the  Mass,  and  to  nothing  else.  Less  distinctly,  but  with 
 equal  truth,  the  same  thing  may  be  said  of  the  argument  of  the  unique 
 Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  of  which  the  keynote  is  the  insistence  on  the 
 "  priesthood  according  tO'  the  order  of  Melchisedek,"  who  offered  the 
 bread  and  wine.  I  venture  to  affirm  that  if  there  were  no  other  historic 
 testimony  for  the  ^Lass  thun  tliat  which  is  tO'  be  found  within  the  canon  of 
 the  New  Testament,  it  would  be  enoagh.  We  do  not  find  any  direct 
 accoant  of  the  liturgical  formi  The  texts  we  have  dc^  not  deal  with  such 
 matters.  Yet,  even  as  to  this,  there  is  in  the  same  passage  of  the  Cor- 
 inthians a  significant  phrase.  The  graver  abuses  he  has  attacked  they  will 
 themselves,  he  is  confident,  put  away  ;  "  the  rest,"  he  adds,  "  I  will  myself 
 put  in  order  when.  I  come."     He  will   regulate,  lie  means,  the  manner  of 
 
468  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 tlieir  observance,  that  all  things  may  be  done,  as  Clement  put  it,  "  decently 
 and  in  order."  We  cannot,  in  the  face  of  the  surrounding  evidence,  doubt 
 that  such  a  settled  order  did  arise.  There  is  thought  to  be  further  refer- 
 ence to  it  in  the  second  chapter  to  Timothy,  and  in  parts  of  the  Book  of 
 the  Revelation.  It  has  even  been  plausibly  maintained  by  some  of  the 
 best  scholars  that  at  least  one  passage  in  the  Epistles  is  itself  a  (quotation 
 from  one  of  the  ancient  liturgies. 
 
 \\\  my  former  address,  when  I  could  not  foresee  that  I  should  be  asked 
 to  deliver  a  special  lecture  on  "  The  Mass,"  I  referred  to  some  part  of  the 
 remarkable  evidence  for  the  "  Isapostolic"  character  of  the  office  as  a 
 whole,  which  is  afiforded  by  a  comparison  of  the  most  ancient  variants  of 
 the  Liturgy  among  themselves,  and  by  the  .concurrent  testimony  of  the 
 earliest  writings,  Christian  or  Pagan,  which  deal  with  the  matter.  Before 
 I  revert  to  tiiat  branch  of  the  subject  now,  it  will  be  well  that  I  should  try 
 to  state  to  you  in  a  few  words  what  the  office  of  the  Mass  in  fact  contains. 
 
 The  Liturgies,  in  spite  of  wide  apparent  variation,  proceed  upon  a 
 scheme  which  is  common,  speaking  broadly,  toithem  all;  and  in  describ- 
 ing that,  I  shall  be  describing  with  sufficient  accuracy  the  Mass  which  is 
 celebrated  in  every  Catholic  Church  to-day.  We  may  say  that  it  consists, 
 if  we  reduce  the  Liturgies  to  their  simplest  terms,  of  the  actual  Com- 
 memoration, called  the  "Canon  of  the  Mass/'  preceded  by  a  double  intro- 
 duction, of  which  the  first  part  is  known  as  the  "  Mass  of  the  Catechumens," 
 as  distinguished  from  the  "  Mass  of  the  Faithful."  The  central  and 
 essential  rite  was  called  the  Canon  because  gf  its  invariableness.  It  is  in 
 substance,  and  even  in  much  of  its  diction,  alike  in  all  the  varying 
 Liturgies.  The  other  sections,  being  far  less  important,  were  to  some 
 extent  subject  to  the  discretion  of  Bishops,  and  have  undergone  local  vari- 
 ation and  substitution,  though  even  in  them  we  find  a  wonderful  con- 
 formity. 
 
 Tile  Office  of  the  Catechumens  (called  "  Missa"  because  it  ended  in 
 their  di.'-missal)  is  a  public  service,  not  especially  eucharistic  in  its  charac- 
 ter. It  begins  with  the  "  Introit" — the  Solemn  Entrance  of  the  officiating 
 IJishoiJ  or  Priest  with  his  attendants,  who  chant  an  introductory  Psalm. 
 Then  come  certain  very  ancient  hymns.  In  the  West,  they  are  that  triple 
 cry  for  mercy  called  the  "  Kyrie  Eleison,"  and  the  "  Gloria,"  or  Hymn  of 
 the  Nativity,  first  peculiar  to  Christmas  Day  (but  so  used  before  139  a.d., 
 as  it  is  siiil),  and  then  e.xtended  to  ordinary  Sundays.  In  the  East,  you 
 have  the  equally  ancient  "Trisagion."  Next  come  the  public  prayers — 
 the  "  gathered-up  "  petitions  of  the  Church — which  were  named  "Collecta" 
 in  the  West,  and  ^womti]  in  the  East,  and  have  come  to  be  variable  with 
 us  according  to  the  day.  Then  the  Priest  reads  portions  of  the  Scripture 
 —an  Epistle  or  Lesson  symbolic  of  the  Old  Law,  and  the  Gospel  setting 
 forth  the  New.  Between  these,  as  the  procession  carrying  with  joy  the 
 Sacred  Book  passed  along  the  steps  of  the  altar,  a  processional  chant 
 called  a  "Tract,"   "Sequence,"  or    "Gradual,"   was  sung,  which   is  the 
 
THE  MASS.  469 
 
 origin  of  many  of  those  great  T^atin  hymns  that  all  the  ages  have  borrowed. 
 After  the  Reading  comes  the  Sermon,  upon  the  close  of  which  the 
 Catechumens  were  dismissed  (as  St.  Augustine  expressly  tells  us),  and  the 
 "Mass  of  the  Faithful  "  began.  That  was,  of  course,  the  "■  myslerium" 
 which  the  Romans  of  the  third  century  jested  at — the  rite  at  which  the 
 "  initiated  ''  only  might  be  present. 
 
 This  secondary  introduction  has  undergone  more  changes  than  any 
 other  i)art  of  tlie  service.  So  far  as  we  have  gone,  you  can  trace  a  distinct 
 parallelism  between  the  common  Roman  Mass,  or  "  Western  Rite,"  and 
 the  Liturgies  of  the  East.  Every  Church  took  leave  to  add  and  amplify 
 and  modify  to  some  extent,  yet  we  can  see  very  clearly  through  the  whole 
 the  outlines  of  an  original  common  plan— developed,  as  we  cannot  doubt, 
 from  the  simple  use,  whatever  it  was,  which  led  up  to  the  long  sermon 
 that  Paul  preached  at  Troas.  Though  the  coincidences  are  obviously  not 
 accidental,  there  is  in  the  scheme  itself  a  simplicity- which  argues  strongly 
 for  its  antiquity.  The  Solemn  Entrance,  the  Traditional  Hymns,  the 
 Collects,  the  Reading  from  the  Old  Testament,  the  Procession  of  the  Book 
 and  the  Reading  of  the  Gospel,  the  Expository  Sermon,  and  then  the 
 Dismissal  of  the  Uninstructed, — what  could  be  a  more  natural  rite? 
 
 In  the  following  section  there  is  still  a  correspondence,  though  the 
 original  scheme  has,  for  reasons  unknown,  become  obscured  by  frequent 
 transpositions.  It  probably  began  with  a  second  "Entrance  "of  the 
 officiating  clergy,  bringing  in  the  bread  and  wine,  which  they  presented 
 forthwith,  in  what  we  still  call  the  "  Offertory,"  at  the  altar.  A  survival  of 
 this  solenmity  may  be  seen  in  the  full  Roman  ritual  at  the  chanting  of  the 
 Creed.  This,  the  public  profession  of  faith  by  the  baptized  Christians  who 
 remained,  is  a  common  use  in  all  the  CInirches.  As  is  well  known,  it  was 
 made  more  exact  in  its  wording  about  325  a.d.,  but  it  is  understood  that 
 the  simple  "Apostles'  Creed  "  was  the  original  formula  used  in  this  place, 
 and  received  its  name  from  that  fact.  After  the  Offertory — which  is  now 
 only  a  short  extract  from  the  Psalms— follows  the  preparation  by  the 
 Priest  of  the  vessels  he  is  about  to  use  in  the  Canon,  which  is  closed  by 
 the  public  washing  of  his  hands,  at  the  psalm  "  Lavabo."  How  old  even 
 the  bare  ceremonial  is  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact  that  this  very  rite  is 
 accurately  described  by  Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  and  is  explained  by  him,  as  by 
 all  of  us  to-day,  as  a  symbol  of  the  purity  requisite  for  the  performance  of 
 the  act  that  is  to  follow.  Then  after  certain  variable  prayers,  which  are 
 similar  to  Collects,  but  from  being  said  in  a  low  voice  are  called  "Secreta," 
 we  reach  that  which  has  always  been  known  as  the  "  Preface  "  of  the  Com- 
 memoration itself.  There  is,  however,  anoiher  observance  I  should  first 
 mention,  though  it  comes  much  later  in  the  Roman  ritual.  That  is  the 
 "  Kiss  of  Peace  "  which  was  anciently  exchanged  by  all  the  faithful  in 
 token  of  reconciliation,  before  they  should  "  offer  their  gift  at  the  altar,"  as 
 Cyril  says.  In  his  use  it  followed  the  Lavabo — in  others  it  followed  or 
 preceded  the  Creed — in  ours  it  is  exchanged  at  the  singing  of  the  "  Agnus 
 
47©  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 Dei "  between  ihe  attendants  at  the  altar  immediately  before  the  Com- 
 munion. In  every  variant,  its  presence  attests  the  constancy  of  the 
 liturgical  tradition,  and  links  us  not  only  with  Cyril  in  347,  but  with  Justin, 
 who  described  it  before  150,  if  not  (as  Cyril  himself  believed)  with  the 
 closing  words  of  the  First  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians. 
 
 More  remarkable,  however,  is  the  formula  which  comprises  the  so-called 
 "  Preface,"  the  Responses  which  introduce  it,  and  the  "  Triumphal  Hymn" 
 into  which  it  breaks  at  the  close.  This  singular  and  most  striking  group  is 
 to  be  found  in  all  tlie  liturgical  fiimilies,  and  in  all  at  the  same  point,  as 
 the  immediate  prelude  of  the  commemorative  oflfice,  technically  known  as 
 the  "  Anaphora."  Justin  refers  to  it ;  Cyril  describes  it  in  minute  and 
 earnest  detail,  and  preserves  for  us  the  startling  fact  that  the  very  words  of 
 the  Responses,  which  you  may  hear  chanted  in  this  connection  at  any 
 Catholic  Mass,  on  any  Sunday,  were  so  chanted  in  Jerusalem  between  300 
 and  350  A.D.  "  Sursiim  corda  :  " — "  Lift  up  your  hearts  ;  We  have  lifted 
 them  up  to  the  Lord  ;  Let  us  give  thanks  to  the  Lord  our  God  ;  It  is  meet 
 and  right."  So  runs  the  ancient  interchange,  and  the  Priest,  taking  the 
 word  from  the  people's  answer,  goes  on  :  "  It  is  truly  meet  and  just,  right 
 and  available  unto  salvation  that  we  should  always  give  thanks  to  Thee." 
 What  follows — and  here  again  the  various  Liturgies  agree  with  one  another 
 and  with  Cyril — is  .a  hymn  of  the  Glory  of  God,  which  ends  by  making 
 mention  of  the  Angels  and  Archangels,  Cherubim  and  Seraphim,  and  of 
 the  heavenly  song  they  sing,  wherein  wc  humbly  join — "  Holy,  Holy,  Holy, 
 is  the  Lord  God  and  blessed  is  He  who  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  " 
 — cometh,  in  very  deed,  in  that  sacramental  commemoration  of  His 
 sacrifice,  which  is  about  to  begin. 
 
 The  Canon  itself  may  be  divided  into  three  parts— the  Great  Inter- 
 cession for  the  Living  and  the  J)ead,  the  Eucharistic  Commemoration 
 itself,  and  the  Communion.  The  tenour  of  the  important  words  is  pre- 
 served with  astonishing  fidelity  here,  although  even  here  there  is  a  curious 
 difference  in  the  way  in  which  ,the  Intercession  is  combined  with  the 
 Commemoration.  This  variance  is,  .in  fact,  the  distinguishing  test  by  which 
 the  critical  scholar  can  say  to  which  of  the  great  families  a  particular  local 
 use  belongs.  In  the  Alexandrine  the  great  prayer  is  before  the  consecra- 
 tion ;  in  others  after  it ;  in  our  own,  partly  before  und  partly  after. 
 
 Of  the  central  Commemoration  itself — the  Sacramental  words — and  the 
 Elevation,  there  is  little  that  I  can  here  say,  except  that  in  every  rile  they 
 testify,  beyond  cavil,  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Real  Presence.  It  is  but  a 
 simple  recital  of  the  facts  of  the  Supper.at  which  the  Mass  was  instituted, 
 and  of  the  command  then  given  ;  and.a^  the  Church  has  always  believed, 
 the  mystery  of  the  Divine  Presence  comes  to  pass,  and  the  miracle  Christ 
 wrought  is  wrought  again,  when  the  solemn  words  are  uttered.  Therefore 
 we  bow  down,  and  adore. 
 
 It  is  this  act  of  the  Mass  which  the  Church  from  the  first  century 
 onward   has  styled  the  "  Sacrifice  "—the  repetition,  that  is,  by  the  provi- 
 
THE   MASS.  471 
 
 dential  ordinance  of  the  great  offering  once  made  upon  the  Cross.  But 
 there  remains  the  Sacrament ;  and  when,  after  the  "  Agnus  Dei,"  a  bell 
 rings  again,  the  Priest,  having  made  his  private  preparation,  receives  that 
 "  Holy  Couununion,"  and  with  him  any  or  all  the  people,  if  they  will. 
 With  this  the  office  is  complete,  except  for  the  prayers  of  thanksgiving, 
 and  the  final  blessing.  In  our  usage,  however,  there  is  read  the  intro- 
 duction of  St.  John's  Gospel,  as  a  final  theme  of  meditation.  Other 
 prayers,  Juiglish  or  Latin,  may  be  added  at  the  end,  or  at  the  beginning, 
 or  before  the  sermon  \  but  with  these  exceptions,  the  stated  course  of  tiie 
 ritual  is  followed  by  the  officiating  Priest,  the  people  being  free  to  use 
 their  own  prayers,  so  long  as  they  in  spirit  and  intention  '"assist  at"  or 
 follow  the  action. 
 
 In  reverting,  after  this  description,  to  the  historical  question,  I  need  not 
 refer  further  to  the  internal  evidence  afforded  by  the  consensus  of  the 
 early  rites.  The  force  of  that  line  of  argument  will  already  be  apparent, 
 and  any  candid  critic  can  easily  follow  it  out.  As  to  the  external  evidence 
 to  be  drawn  from  the  writers  of  the  first  four  centuries  (including  Justin 
 and  Cyril),  my  proposition  is  that,  ditlering  as  they  do  in  race,  character, 
 and  subject,  no  fair-minded  reader  can  collate  the  numerous  utterances 
 which  bear  on  the  central  office  of  the  Christian  Church  as  they  knew  it, 
 without  admittim:  that  it  was  in  its  essentials  such  a  service  as  the  Mass  I 
 have  described. 
 
 It  would  be  impossible,  within  any  practicable  limits,  to  marshal  these 
 testimonies.  By  way  of  illustration,  however,  I  may  be  allowed  to  direct 
 attention  to  one  or  two  indications  of  detail— internal  and  external— which 
 point  very  strongly  to  the  Apostolic  age. 
 
 It  is  known  that  the  liturgical  texts  were  not  committed  to  writing  till  the 
 fourth  century.  St.  Basil,  when  he  wrote  out  his  own  liturgy,  was  himself 
 struck,  as  he  indicates,  by  the  singular  fact  that,  at  the  most  vital  and  most 
 carefully  guarded  portion  of  the  office, — the  words  of  institution, — the 
 liturgical  tradition  did  7wt  follow  the  written  texts  of  the  Gospels  and 
 Epistles  which  had  for  centuries  been  the  common  possession  of  the 
 Church.  He  explains  that  in  that  matter  the  Church  had  not  referred 
 herself  to  the  written  words,  because  ''  there  are  many  points  most  impor- 
 tant for  the  mystery  which  we  receive  (from  the  Apostles)  by  unwritten 
 tradition,  in  addition  to  those  which  the  Gospels  relate." 
 
 And  even  if  we  had  not  his  weighty  testimony,  it  is  very  plain,  on  a 
 mere  comparison  of  the  texts,  that  in  spite  of  their  necessary  veneration 
 for  and  dependence  on  the  origin  and  charter  of  the  rite,  no  one  of  the 
 ancient  types  followed  the  formula  of  any  Gospel.  Evidently  they  claimed 
 for  themselves  a  co-equal  or  even  a  superior  authority,  as  regards  the 
 events  of  that  momentous  Supper. 
 
 It  comes  out  in  many  ways.  The  liturgy  of  St.  James,  which  is  probably 
 the  nearest  of  all  we  possess  to  the  archetype,  gives  us  the  words  iti  the 
 first  person,  meaning  apparently  that  James  himself  is  speaking.    The  texts 
 
472  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  the  Gospels  vary  as  to  whether  Christ  spoke  of  "  My  body  wliicli  is 
 broken,"  or  "  My  body  which  is  given."  The  liturgy  of  St.  James  vouches 
 that  He  said  both.  Almost  all  the  rites  are  particular  to  say  that  when  He 
 invoked  the  Eucharistic  blessing  Christ  "  raised  His  eyes  to  heaven  " — not 
 to  be  found  in  the  Bible — and  apparently  therefore  a  traditional  detail. 
 But  the  most  curious  fact  is  that  practically  all  the  rites  concur  in  the  cere- 
 mony of  "  mi.xing  water  with  the  wine" — of  which  there  is  no  word  in  the 
 Bible.  Their  tradition  as  to  this  detail  of  Christ's  action  was  so  strong 
 that  they  regarded  it  as  an  essential  part  of  the  rubric  of  the  commemora- 
 tion. And  St.  Cyprian,  discussing  (not  long  after  a.d.  200)  this  very 
 question  of  form,  asserts  that  he  upheld  it  because  it  was  the  tradition  of 
 the  Apostles  as  to  that  act  of  Christ  which  they  were  commanded'to  repeat. 
 
 Now,  as  I  have  before  proved,  such  matters  cannot  conceivably  have 
 been  cojMcd  by  any  one  of  the  liturgical  families  from  another.  There  is 
 no  common  centre,  after  the  Apostles,  on  which  they  can  be  supposed  to 
 converge.  If  then  such  minute  matters  were  preserved  and  handed  down 
 concurrently  in  each,  they  can  have  come  only  from  the  scrupulous  care 
 of  those  who  saw  and  heard  the  great  act,  and  themselves  directed  the 
 manner  of  its  commemoration. 
 
 As  for  early  testimonies,  they  come  to  us  from  every  side.  Pliny's  inept 
 account  to  Trajan  of  the  worship  of  the  despised  sect  confirms,  as  do  all 
 the  other  Roman  travesties,  the  internal  and  very  accurate  account  we 
 have  from  Justin  Martyr.  Pliny  uses  the  word  " sacrament,"  though  he 
 does  not  know  its  meaning.     Justin  even  uses  the  word  "  sacrifice." 
 
 Irena,'us  is  not  very  far  removed  from  the  Apostles,  and  his  writings 
 teem  with  allusions  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Real  Presence  ;  but  he  gives 
 us  even  a  stronger  piece  of  evidence  than  his  own,  for  he  tells  us  in  distinct 
 and  very  technical  terms  how  the  heretic  Marcus,  whom  he  was  attacking, 
 had  himself  retained,  though  in  a  perverted  form,  the  Mass  and  the  Real 
 Presence,  so  that  he  professed  to  make  the  wine  show  as  red  blood  in  the 
 cup  after  his  words  of  invocation.  Why  should  a  heretic  of  the  second 
 century  have  carried  away  these  things,  even  in  his  revolt,  if  they  were  not 
 then  one  of  the  essentials  of  the  Apostolic  faith  ? 
 
 I  mentioned  before  the  minute  account  of  the  then  ritual  of  Jerusalem 
 in  the  catechism  of  Cyril,  written  about  347-4S  a.d.  ;  and  I  cannot  now 
 dwell,  as  I  would  wish  to  do,  on  the  extraordinary  strength  of  the  argu- 
 ment as  to  the  anti(iuity  even  of  the  minutire  of  the  office  I  have  described, 
 which  we  derive  from  this  and  from  the  far  earlier  account  of  Justin. 
 Kven  in  the  Mass  known  to  the  latter — not  long  after  100 — we  can  dis 
 linguish  the  Entrance,  the  Offertory,  the  Preface,  the  Eucharistic  Prayer 
 and  the  Eormula  of  Institution,  the  Exclusion  of  the  Catechumens,  the 
 Communion  of  the  jiresiding  priest  and  of  the  people,  and  the  explicit 
 doctrine  of  the  Real  Presence.  What  stronger  evidence  need  we  rccjuire 
 to  prove  that  the  tenor  of  the  Mass  was  in  existence,  as  the  accepted 
 Christian  ritual,  a  few  years  after  the  death  of  John? 
 
THE  MASS.  473 
 
 One  further  point  I  would  wish  to  inenlion,  and  with  it  I  will  leave  this 
 argument.  I  have  mentioned  the  Prayer  of  the  Great  Intercession.  St. 
 Cyril,  in  347,  refers  to  it,  and  he  mentions  a  number  of  topics  which  it 
 then  embraced.  All  these,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  are  found  in  every  one  of 
 the  Liturgies.  But  that  form  of  prayer  has  lately  been  found,  by  a  for- 
 tunate accident,  to  be  far  older  than  Cyril.  Clement  of  Rome,  who  is 
 named  by  St.  Paul  in  the  unquestioned  Epistles,  and  who  was  undoubtedly 
 in  authority  at  Rome  soon  afterwards,  is  given  as  the  author  of  several 
 Epistles  and  other  matters  which  were  not  included  in  the  Canon,  though 
 .they  are  probably  more  ancient  than  some  parts  of  it.  This  is  not  the 
 place  to  discuss  the  autlienticity  of  te.xts  :  but  I  think  the  scholars  agree 
 that  certain  hitherto  unknown  fragments  of  an  undoubtedly  genuine  Cle- 
 mentine text  have  recently  been  recovered  ;  and  these  are  found  to  contain 
 an  extract  from  this  very  portion  of  the  Liturgy,  which,  therefore,  was  then 
 in  use  and  honour.  Their  wording  is  found  to  be  the  same,  so  far  as  it 
 goes,  as  that  which  is  preserved  to  us  in  the  texts  of  the  Liturgy  used  at 
 Alexandria,  and  ascribed  to  the  tradition  of  the  Evangelist  St.  Mark.  Here 
 then  is  a  witness  that  cannot  be  tampered  with  ;  and  the  voice  of  this 
 fragment,  buried  for  near  eighteen  centuries,  joins  with  all  the  other  voices 
 in  proclaiming  that  the  Liturgy  of  to-day  is  as  old  as  the  Apostles. 
 
 So  far  I  have  been  seeking  to  make  clear  to  you  the  basis,  the  tenor, 
 and  the  history  of  the  Mass. 
 
 To  each  of  the  great  institutions  of  the  world  there  belongs  a  philosophy, 
 a  group  of  antecedent  ideas  which  it  presupposes,  embodies,  and  trans- 
 lates into  the  actualities  of  life ;  and  a  utility,  a  range  of  ends  subserved,  a 
 scope  of  human  needs  fulfilled,  a  tale  of  the  world's  work  done.  In  the 
 former,  the  critical  thinker  will  seek  the  inner  logic  of  the  historic  fact. 
 ]>y  the  latter,  the  practical  man  will  appraise,  too  often  rashly,  the  right  of 
 that  which  is  to  be  preserved. 
 
 Let  me  ask  then  at  once,  what  is  the  philosophy  of  religion  which  under- 
 lies and  is  involved  in  the  unique  institution  with  which  I  have  to  deal? 
 
 The  fact  of  knowledge,  the  existence  of  ethics,  the  possibility  of  political 
 or  social  life, — all  these  involve,  as  all  who  are  familiar  with  Kant's  funda- 
 mental arguments  will  allow,  certain  ideas  as  the  antecedent  conditions  of 
 their  possibility.  So  also  does  the  existence  of  religion.  I  do  not  seek, 
 however,  to  analyse  religion  ;  I  can  only  ask  you,  for  purposes  of  elucida- 
 tion, to  permit  me  to  set  out  at  once  those  broad  general  ideas  which  are 
 here  implied  in  that  expression  of  religion  with  which  I  have  to  deal. 
 
 Of  these,  I  distinguish  four  :  ike  need  of  prayer,  the  fitness  of  worship,  the 
 craving  for  a  Divine  coniwunion,  and,  above  all,  the  realization  of  the  per- 
 sonal presence  of  God. 
 
 These  form  what  I  may  call  the  abstract  basis  of  the  Mass,  apart  from 
 that  dogmatic  aspect  of  it  which  I  have  already  referred  to  as  the  public 
 profession  of  a  Catholic  faith,  the  commemoration  of  the  death  of  Christ, 
 the  fulfilment  of  His  last  behest,  and  the  mystical  renewal  of  His  sacrifice. 
 
474  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 You  will  see,  I  hope,  that  the  four  ideas  1  have  referred  to  arise  out  of 
 the  very  essential  character  of  religion,  as  distinguished,  for  example,  from 
 ethics  or  from  poetry.  Ethics  is  the  side  of  life  on  which  I  stand  related 
 to  an  abstract,  imperative,  rigid  law,  a  pitiless,  infinite  yea  or  nay.  Poetry 
 —indeed,  art  in  general— is  that  phase  of  life  in  which  I  stand  related  to 
 an  infinite  beauty,  revealed  in  endless  subtleties  of  unexpressed  suggestion  ; 
 an  infinite  that  evades  us  as  we  grasp  it,  a  truth  that  is  so  vague  and 
 unconfined  that  it  is  very  hard  to  say  when  it  is  true. 
 
 Religion  also  is  a  relation  between  the  finite  self  and  the  infinite,  but  it 
 is  distinguished  pre-eminently  in  this,  that  for  it  the  relation  is  always  and 
 above  all  things  a  personal  one.  That  the  attribution  to  infinite  being  of 
 all  that  we  mean,  in  any  positive  sense,  by  personaUty,  is  involved  not  only 
 in  ethics  but  even  in  knowledge  and  all  else,  is  capable,  I  am  certain,  of 
 strict  proof  But  neither  in  the  intellectual  nor  in  the  ethical  side  of 
 things  is  \\\t  personality  of  the  infinite  the  prominent  note.  In  the  region 
 of  intci/cctiial  li/c,\.\\t  infinite  is  truth;  in  the  arts  it  is  beauty;  in  the 
 ethical  viox\d,  it  is  law;  but  in  religion,  beyond  and  above  all  else,  it  is 
 love.  Knowledge  may  imply  a  knower,  and  law  may  presuppose  a  law- 
 giver. But  love  cannot  even  be  stated  or  thought  of  but  as  the  love  of 
 one  person  for  another. 
 
 In  this  we  touch  the  beating  heart  of  the  universe.  Unless  you  are 
 audacious  enough  to  seriously  say  that  all  the  religion  of  the  human  cen- 
 turies is  a  mere  delusion  and  a  dream,  then  we  may  appeal  to  the  mere 
 existence  of  religion  as  a  fact  of  life  in  proof  that  the  infinite  distances  are 
 not  a  silent  void,  that  in  the  tideless  reaches  of  the  past  the  seeing  eye 
 would  find,  not  the  blind  onset  of  an  iron  fate,  but  the  personal  tending  of 
 a  tireless  care,  and  that  the  shut  jjortals  of  the  future  shall  disclose  not 
 death,  but  the  living  God. 
 
 U,  tlien,  religion  presupposes  and  indeed  means  a  personal  relation 
 between  my  personal  self  and  a  personal  God,  this  relation  must  be  evi- 
 dently conmion  to  all  men ;  and  in  every  age;  accordingly,  it  has  presented 
 iihclf  in  public  as  well  as  in  private  forms.  By  all  kinds  of  men  it  seems 
 to  have  been  felt  that  public  assemblies  for  religious  observance  were  a 
 natural  need.  What  then  should  such  a  sacred  office  imply  ?  I  contend 
 that,  by  the  very  necessity  of  the  case,  it  must  imply  exactly  those  great 
 elements  which  I  have  already  named  as  essential  points  for  every  Catliolic 
 Mass.  I'^ch  of  these,  therefore,  I  will  ask  you  to  consider  with  me  for  a 
 niomcnL 
 
 It  must  involve  the  element  of  prayer.  If  there  were  no  such  thing  as 
 prayer,  religion  would  be  an  idle  sentiment — indeed,  a  mockery.  If  I 
 stand  Jace  to  face  across  the  universe  of  tilings  with  another  Person  who 
 cares  for  nie  infinitely,  and  whose  power  is  limitless,  I  will  surely  cry  to 
 Him  in  my  need.  Some  access,  some  way  of  intercourse,  is  involved  in 
 the  very  thought  of  such  a  Godhead.  We  speak  to  Him  and  He  will  hear 
 us.     But  there  arc  those  who  ask,  How  can  He  answer  ?  and  they  tell  us 
 
THE  MASS.  475 
 
 that  the  course  of  things  is  fixed  by  a  beneficent  and  unswerving  law.  Xo 
 one  denies  the  cosmic  order,  nor  the  sequences  of  cause  and  effect.  I  am 
 not  talking  of  any  such  thing  as  praying  for  a  miracle,  nor  do  I  need  even 
 to  discuss  whether  there  be  such  things  :  for  there  is  scope  enough  for 
 God's  answer  to  our  prayer  without  violence  to  any  of  the  so-called  laws 
 which  are  the  fetish  of  the  lesser  sort  of  scientific  men.  You  do  not  prove 
 by  pointing  us  to  causes  and  events,  that  Providence  must  stand  aside  and 
 see  the  cruel  wheels  go  round.  I  venture  to  say  you  will  prove  nothing 
 against  a  rational  belief  in  prayer  until  you  go  the  whole  irrational  range 
 of  pure  materialism,  and  deny  all  freedom  of  human  action  as  well  as  of 
 the  Divine.  Are  any  of  you  prepared  to  say  the  universe  is  but  a  gigantic 
 mechanism?  If  you  think  you  are,  let  me  remind  you  that  the  theory  will 
 do  more  than  just  destroy  religion.  It  will  end  at  once  all  ethics,  all 
 effort,  all  ideals.  It  will  reduce  consciousness  to  a  mockery,  spirituality  to 
 a  dream,  and  love  to  a  chemical  attraction  ;  and,  after  all,  it  will  have 
 explained  nothing,  but  rather  rendered  everything  insoluble. 
 
 No  such  wild  hypothesis  can  be  rationally  described  as  the  result  of 
 science ;  and  consistently  with  all  we  do  know,  I  repeat  that  there  is  ample 
 scope  for  our  belief.  In  the  first  place,  we  know,  as  clearly  as  we  know 
 anything,  that  our  action  is  every  instant  changing,  sometimes  on  issues  of 
 enormous  moment,  the  natural  trend  of  the  forces  about  us.  A  ship  is 
 driving  on  a  lee  shore.  To  a  savage  eye  her  wreck  is  an  obvious  inference 
 from  law.  But  a  man's  will,  by  a  power  of  selection  and  adaptation  simple 
 enough  to  us,  can  turn  the  very  engines  of  destruction  into  the  servants  of 
 his  design.     So  can  God,  we  say,  upon  His  greater  plane. 
 
 Again,  a  thing  of  daily  experience  for  us,  as  between  the  human  lives 
 we  know,  is  the  fact  of  intluence.  Exactly  how  the  personality  of  a  man 
 or  woman  acts  on  other  lives,  we  cannot  pretend  to  say.  But  friendship 
 and  love,  hate  and  help,  rivalry  and  discipleship,  we  have  all  seen  to 
 spring  into,  being,  sometimes  in  a  moment,  for  a  mere  nothing,  a  casual 
 meeting,  a  passing  word.  A  trick  of  feature,  some  subtlety  of  voice,  or  a 
 so-called  personal  magnetism  yet  more  impalpable,  may  bind  as  by  a  spell 
 not  only  individuals  but  mighty  masses  of  men.  We  see  such  things 
 among  ourselves.  When  we  pray  God  for  light  and  growth,  for  purity  and 
 healing,  for  help  and  hope  and  holiness,  why  shall  not  He  act  also  in  such 
 ways  of  influence,  in  His  far  wider  way  ? 
 
 We  pray,  then,  in  the  Mass,  as  the  Church  has  always  prayed,  for  our 
 own  needs  and  for  all  the  world's,  in  due  obedience  to  the  will  of  God. 
 The  element  of  general  prayer — the  great  intercession — is,  indeed,  one  of 
 the  main  factors  of  that  archetype  of  all  the  liturgies  for  which  we  claim  an 
 apostolic  origin.  Not  only  is  it  present  in  all  the  five  great  families,  but 
 its  very  tenor  is  in  all  of  them  the  same,  and  in  all  it  is  connected  closely 
 with  the  central  act — the  repetition  of  the  sacramental  words.  In  all  it 
 takes  the  double  form  of  a  prayer,  first,  for  all  the  living,  and  then  for  all 
 the  dead ;  for  to  us  they  are  all  members  of  that  body  of  Christ,  which  is 
 
476  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  Church.  To  us  the  life  beyond  the  grave  is  not  a  fatal  alternative  of 
 instant  lieaven  or  hopeless  misery,  with  no  world  of  growth  and  preparation 
 set  between.  If  by  prayer  we  can  help  our  bretliren  whom  we  see,  then 
 we  believe  that  by  prayer,  if  God  will,  we  may  help  also  our  brethren  wlio 
 jiave  gone  before  us— out  of  sight,  indeed,  but  not  beyond  our  reach  ;  for 
 they  also  are  but  another  of  the  folds  of  God. 
 
 It  is  this  great  intercession  which  has  survived  in  most  of  the  Protestant 
 religious  services  under  one  form   or  another ;  tliough  in  these  its  great 
 significance  as  a  witness  to  the  idea  of  the  solidarity  of  all  the  Churcli  on 
 earth  and  in  the  other  world  has,  for  some  strange  reason^  been  destroyed. 
 ]kit  it   is  not  on  this  venerable  formula  alone  tliat  Catholics  rely  for  the 
 element  of  prayer.     In  the  Mass  the  ritual  words  are  but  the  guides,  and 
 not  the  fetters  of  devotion.     The  whole  course  of  the  ofiFice  is  to  the 
 devout   Catholic  one  long  occasion  for  prayer.     It  is  made  intense  and 
 living  by  the  solemnity  of  the  action.     It  is  assuredly  not  chilled,  but 
 rather  constantly  upheld,   by  the  familiar  form  and  ceremonial.      P>ery 
 movement  of  the  priest  and  his  attendants,  every  time  a  bell  is  rung  or  a 
 salutation  or  response  is  heard,  is  but  another  warning  to  pray — eagerly, 
 keenly,  ceaselessly — using  the  moments  well,  for  now  is  the  acceptable  time. 
 The  ^^ass  has  hardly  begun  when  the  Collects  summon   all  to  offer  their 
 prayers   for  the  good  estate  of  Christendom,   for  these  are  the  gaihcrcd 
 prayers  of  all  the  brethren.     After  the  Creed,^  the  offertory  warns  us  to 
 l)resent  our  lives  as  a  living  sacrifice   before  the  Lord,  and  to  pray  for  all 
 our  personal   needs.     The  ceremony  of  the  "  Lavabo  "  bids  us  pray  for 
 l)urity  of  heart  and  forgiveness  of  our  remembered  sins.     Presently  there 
 are  the  so-called  "secret  "  prayers  of  the  priest,  where  we   bethink  us  of 
 our  hidden   necessities.     We  join   in   the  great  intercession,  and  we  are 
 taught  to  make  therein  a  special   mention  of  every  personal  friend,  and 
 every  individual  soul,  in  life  or  death,  for  whom,  by  any  personal  reason, 
 we  are  moved  to  pray.     Presently,  raising  his  voice,  the  priest  cries,  "  And 
 to  us  sinners  also."     It  is  a  call  to  his  hearers   that  they  should  turn   again 
 to  ask  of  God  the   helps  that,  in  their  sin,  they  need.     A   few  moments 
 more  and  you  will  hear  again  the  lifted  voice  reciting  the  ancient  formula 
 with  which  the  Lord's  Prayer  is  ushered  in  ;  and  all  will  follow  it,  for  it  is 
 said  aloud  ;  and  all  will  answer  at  the  closing  words,  and  join  in  that  echo 
 of  them  which  comes  after  in  the  prayer  against  temptation.    The  "  Agnus 
 Dei  "  is  yet  another  summons,  and   its  cry  for  mercy,  for  acceptance,  ami 
 for  peace  is  echoed  in  its  turn  by  the  beautiful  prayer  for  the  ])eace  of  the 
 Church,  which  leads  on  to  the  Communion.     That   past,    there   follow 
 prayers  of  thanksgiving,  and  the  Mass  is  closed. 
 
 Any  one  is  free,  of  course,  to  read  the  ritual  words  with  scrupulous 
 observance,  and  if  it  be  helpful  to  his  jiersonal  devotion  he  does  well ;  but 
 every  one  is  likewise  free  and  is  advised  to  adapt  this  course  and  move- 
 ment of  the  ritual  to  his  own  soul's  wants,  and  to  his  own  best  methods  of 
 spiritual  expression.     Therefore  the  Mass  is  never  rigid,  cold,  inert,  as 
 
THE  MASS.  477 
 
 other  rites  have  been  where  ritual  was  the  beginning  and  the  end.  The 
 whole  great  company  of  worshippers  in  a  Cathohc  cathedral  are  doing  but 
 one  thing— they  are  joining,  and  they  feel  themselves  to  be  joining,  in 
 one  and  the  same  great  act ;  and  yet  at  the  same  moment  every  one 
 is  standing  face  to  face  in  instant  .personal  relation  with  the  presence  of 
 
 God. 
 
 If  it  were  possible  I  would  bave  wished  to  indicate  to  you  a  few  of  the 
 many  common  plans  for  individual  prayer,  called  "  Methods  of  hearing 
 Mass,"  which  are  to  be  found  in  our  various  books.  But  prayer  is  not  the 
 only  phase  of  that  personal  relation  which  religion  means,  and  I  must  pass 
 now  to  another  form  of  it  at  least  as  universal.  No  one  can  deny  the 
 constant  recurrence  in  human  history  of  the  idea  of  "  worship  " — that 
 homage  paid  to  the  infmite  Lord  which  we  commemorate  in  the  common 
 use  of  language  when  we  describe  any  religious  office  as  a  "  Divine  ser- 
 vice." 
 
 If  it  be  true  that  religion  means  a  relation  of  person  to  person,  it  is  also 
 evident  that  that -relation  does  not  imply  any  equality  of  rights  such  as  we 
 expect,  rightly  or  wrongly,  in  the  relations  of  man  to  man.  Freedom  of 
 one  individual  as  against  another  we  assume,  and  rightly,  in  our  human 
 conduct.  For  every  assertion  of  a  right  to  make  me  alter  ray  own  course  for 
 your  advantage  or  desire  must  prove  itself  or  be  denied.  Until  you  can 
 show  good  reason  to  the  contrary,  I  am  among  men  ray  own  master,  and 
 in  ri^ht  of  my  mere  manhood,  .eijual  comrade  of  every  man  who  breathes. 
 But  as  between  any  man  and  the  Divine,  how  vast,  how  ineffable,  is  the 
 difference  ! 
 
 I  observe  that  in  the  post-Reformation  systems  of  thought,  and  above 
 all  in  those  American  new  departures  of  which  Emerson  and  Walt  Whitman 
 are  the  true  exponents,  there  is  a  strong  tendency  to  suggest  that  there  is 
 something  base  and  servile  in  the  acknowledgment  of  any  dependence  of 
 a  human  person— even  upon  the  Divine.  Some  of  these  people  talk  as  if 
 they  might  shake  hands  with  God  ;  others  as  if  it  were  a  fine  thing  to 
 shake  their  fists  at  Him.  One  of  the  most  brilliant,  and  as  I  fear  most 
 subtly  mischievous,  expositions  of  this  kind  of  human  pride  is  to  be  found 
 in  Emerson's  remarkable  Essay  on  Self-reliance.  Yet  what  utter  non- 
 sense it  all  is  !  One  is  tevnpted  to  cry  out,  like  the  sour  sage,  "  How  God 
 must  laugh,  if  such  a  thing  could  be,  to  see  his  wondrous  manikins 
 below  ! "  If  we  are  in  fact  face  to  face  with  a  personality  which  is  not 
 one  among  other  equal  selves,  but  infinite — a  self  as  against  whom  neither 
 right  nor  duty  can  be  predicated  at  all — a  self  without  any  possible  selfish- 
 ness, for  whom  all  conceivable  limitations  are  but  as  an  idle  fancy,  and 
 every  imaginable  power  but  as  the  lightest  motion  of  His  will — then  our 
 self-assertion  as  against  such  an  one  is  a  mere  insanity.  All  ultimate  good- 
 ness is  and  can  be  nothing  :but  the  adjustment  of  our  personal  volition  to 
 the  standard  of  that  one  effectual  Will.  If  then  revolt  can  be  nothing  in 
 the  end  but  self-destruction,  it  is  merely  ludicrous  to  enquire  whether  our 
 
478  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 human  dignity  is  injured  by  the  act  of  adoration.  As  from  Him  we 
 derive  our  being,  it  cannot  be  false  to  say  He  is  our  Lord.  If  there  be 
 any  sense  in  wliich  we  can  talk  of  justice  entering  into  so  unequal  a  rela- 
 tion, it  is  most  just  that  we  should  do  Him  service. 
 
 The  best  reason  for  it,  of  course,  is  not  that  it  is  His  due— for  our 
 refusal  will  hardly  make  Him  poorer.  As  with  prayer,  so  with  worship 
 .qlso— it  is  for  our  sakes  that  we  must  lift  our  hearts  to  Him.  It  is  exactly 
 because  the  emptiness  of  human  folly  is  prone  to  raise  itself  against  the 
 Master;  it  is  because  pride,  rebellion,  swollen  insolence,  are  possible,  that 
 it  is  well  we  should  remind  ourselves  of  that  eternal  infinite  disparity,  and 
 bow  down  and  bend  the  knee.  Not  even  of  purity  or  truth  did  Christ  so 
 strongly  speak  as  of  humility,  meekness,  lowliness  of  heart. 
 
 Not  that  there  are  not  forms  of  self-reliance  and  respect  which  are 
 wholesome  and  honourable,  nay,  even  needful  for  the  perfect  service  of  our 
 God.  If  each  man  reverenced  himself  to  every  height  consistent  with  all 
 other  reverence  the  world  would  be  quickly  purified.  It  is  against  the 
 self-insistence  in  the  face  of  the  Divine  that  we  protest.  Because  to  set  up 
 our  will  against  the  holy  will  is  the  very  mark  of  sin,  therefore  to  worship 
 is  of  the  essence  of  religion. 
 
 I  have  seen  the  stout  burghers  of  a  Dutch  town,  assembled  in  their 
 Ciroote  Kerk,  marching  about  with  hats  on,  taking  sturdily,  to  show 
 that  they  disclaimed  all  figments  of  a  reverent  l)earing.  If  their  manner 
 did  not  belie  them,  they  were  minded,  I  fear,  to  obey  no  more  and  no 
 farther  than  they  chose.  To  say  that  is  to  say  they  were  independent 
 centres  of  action  in  the  universe  :  and  these,  like  independent  centres  in 
 our  own  or  any  other  organization,  are  in  fact  a  disease,  and  must  work 
 out  their  own  elimination. 
 
 I  fear  that  not  a  little  of  the  common  prejudice  of  a  certain  robust 
 type  of  Englishman  against  the  Catholic  religion  arises  out  of  such  a  dis- 
 taste as  these  Dutchmen,  or  as  the  typical  John  Bull  of  the  past,  would 
 certainly  have  felt  for  anything  in  the  way  of  worship  which  involved  any 
 very  obvious  abasement  before  a  higher  power.  To  the  Catholic  mind 
 this  is  not  dignity,  but  a  monstrous  littleness  of  soul.  To  us  the  acknow- 
 ledgment of  our  dependence  upon  the  Father  as  those  "  little  children  "'  of 
 whom  Christ  spoke  is  a  good  and  beautiful  thing.  We  believe  that  they 
 who  in  this  sense  are  "  i^oor  in  spirit  "  are  "  blessed,"  as  the  Master  said  ; 
 we  confess  our  nothingness  in  the  face  of  the  Almighty  love,  not  grudg- 
 ingly but  joyously  ;  and  every  time  that  we  are  privileged  to  assist  at  the 
 offering  of  the  Mass,  we  rejoice  in  it  as  in  a  special  ;ind  most  fitting  oppor- 
 tunity for  the  act  of  adoration. 
 
 It  is  to  this  ruling  idea  of  worship  that  all  ou'  formal  usages  refer  :  a 
 kneeling  posture,  a  reverent  demeanour ;  and  all  such  symbols  as  the  offer- 
 ing of  incense,  or  of  flowers  and  other  precious  things  about  the  altar, 
 which  we  think  of  as  His  throne.  They  arc  but  poor  attempts  after  the 
 expression  of  that  sense  of  reverence  which  it  is  surely  our  interest  not  to 
 
THE  MASS.  479 
 
 lose.  Ruskin  said  once  that  "  in  reverence  lies  the  chief  joy  and  power  of 
 life."  The  lack  of  it  in  the  modern  world  is  an  evil  deeper  than  we  know. 
 If  you  abolish  the  fashion  and  semblance  of  reverent  worship  in  religion, 
 where  else  will  it  survive? 
 
 Apart  from  symbolism,  the  note  of  worship  is  continued,  throughout  the 
 Avhole  office,  by  a  constant  recurrence  of  the  poetic  expression  of  the 
 Divine  praise.  The  hymn  of  the  Nativity,  "Glory  to  God  in  the  highest;" 
 the  hymn  of  the  Trinity,  which  we  call  the  "  Preface,"  with  the  "  Holy, 
 holy,"  that  follows  it,  are  in  fact  the  earliest  Christian  poetry.  Other 
 psalms  and  chants  of  the  like  intent  were  added,  as  the  devotional  senti- 
 ment of  the  various  churches  ruled.  You  may  think  it  is  unmeaning  that 
 men  should  "  praise  God  ; "  and  so  it  would  be  if  it  were  not  that  spon 
 taneous  expression  of  our  gladness  in  His  perfect  majesty  which  is  but  the 
 translating  of  our  adoration  into  words.  Your  blustering  burgher  chanting 
 formal  psalms  may  be  "  a  sounding  brass  "  ;  but  the  humble  soul,  who  for 
 the  pure  delight  of  thinking  upon  God  must  needs  proclaim  His  glory,  is 
 but  joining,  as  our  own  Preface  puts  it,  in  the  Heavenly  Song. 
 
 There  is  yet  another  sense  in  which  the  Mass  is  charged  with  an  intense 
 adoration,  such  as  must  often  amaze  an  earnest  stranger.  As  the  action 
 rises  towards  its  culminating  point,  you  cannot  fail  to  notice  how  the  signs 
 of  waywardness,  or  vanity,  or  inattention  gradually  cease.  Those  who 
 have  been  sitting,  kneel — those  who  have  been  reading  lay  their  brows 
 upon  their  hands  to  pray.  And  when  the  warning  bell  has  rung,  there  is 
 throughout  a  Catholic  Church  an  intense  silence,  a  rapt  devotion,  such  as 
 I,  at  least,  have  never  elsewhere  seen.  It  is  in  that  moment  that  you  may 
 see  how  reverence  alone  can  solemnize  and  glorify  the  trivialities  of  life. 
 From  the  squalid  warrens  of  the  poor,  from  the  sordid  worries  of  the 
 middle  class,  from  the  idle  vanities  of  fashion,  they  are  gathered  together — 
 as  of  old — for  the  breaking  of  the  bread.  They  have  come  to  pay  their 
 service  to  that  ISfajesty  before  whom  all  differences  fade.  And  as  tiie 
 great  words  are  said,  the  great  act  done,  they  are  rapt  beyond  the  little 
 things  about  their  feet,  and  are  forced  to  look  up,  if  it  be  but  for  a  moment, 
 at  the  mighty  things  that  are  eternal.  In  that  great  moment,  even  the 
 least  of  His  little  ones  may  be  glorified  by  the  solemnity  and  the  enthu- 
 siasm of  adoration.  The  inspiration  of  high  poetry  and  of  glorious  music 
 is  a  noble  thing  \  but  for  us  there  is  a  way  of  nobler  inspiration  open  to  the 
 dull  and  the  unlearned,  at  least  as  readily  as  to  the  wise,  wherever  a  Mass 
 is  said. 
 
 The  third  idea  which  I  set  before  you  is  the  need  of  a  Divine  Com- 
 miinion.  I  know  not,  indeed,  how  I  may  express  to  you  with  any  clearness 
 what  to  us  that  word  conveys.  I  have  said  that  the  idea  of  prayer — the 
 access  from  our  side  to  God — is  inherent  in  the  very  conception  of  a  per- 
 sonal relation  between  the  Finite  and  the  Infinite.  If  that  is  one  side, 
 Communion  is  the  other.  The  sense  of  our  dependence,  which  we  ex- 
 press as  worship,  is  not  inconsistent,  to   the  Christian,  with  the  belief  that 
 
48o  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 in  another  sense,  transcending  our  imagination,  we  may  be  made  one  with 
 the  Divine.  If  you  will  read  the  intense  chapters  at  the  end  of  John'3 
 Gospel,  or  if  you  read  any  of  the  great  books  of  religious  utterance,  such, 
 as  the  "Imitation,"  you  will  see  that  the  sense  of  the  Divine  Love  cannot, 
 remain  for  the  religious  soul  a  merely  intellectual  proposition.  "  Whoso- 
 ever eateth  My  flesh  abideth  in  JSIe,  and  I  in  Him  :  "  "That  they  may  be 
 one  as  we  are  one  ;  I  in  them  and  Thou  in  Me," — such  phrases,  commonly 
 described  as  mystical,  are  reiterated  over  and  over  again.  And  in  the 
 passion  of  the  love  of  God,  the  great  writers  of  the  Cliurch  have  delighted 
 to  talk  of  dying  to  themselves  and  to  all  earthly  things  that  they  may  be 
 the  more  lost  in  their  Beloved, 
 
 These  things  are  of  personal  experience,  and  to  those  who  are  without 
 they  will  seem  nothing.  I  desire  now  only  to  point  out  that  the  personal 
 relation  of  each  finite  self  to  the  Infinite  Self  which  I  have  spoken  of,  can- 
 not be  thought  of  otherwise  than  as  a  union  of  love  ;  whatever  in  the  mar- 
 vels of  the  Infinite  such  love  may  mean.  This  love,  not  merely  of  man 
 for  God,  but  of  God  for  man,  is  of  the  essence  of  the  Christian,  as  indeed 
 of  any,  religion.  Now  of  love  itself,  in  any  phase  of  it,  what  can  we  say  ? 
 We  have  said  and  sung  an  infinite  deal  about  it ;  but  we  can  say  little  more 
 than  that  it  is  a  union  of  two  souls,  wherein  in  some  sense  their  personal 
 interests  have  fallen  away  so  that  they  are  to  each  another  no  longer  alien, 
 but  as  one.  What,  then,  would  such  love  be,  if  it  could  transcend  our 
 limits  and  be  taken  up  into  the  Divine  ?  We  could  not,  apart  from  any 
 revelation,  have  professed  to  say  ;  but  we  may  say  without  unreason  that 
 in  such  a  conception  we  have  a  key  at  least  to  some  of  the  aspects  of  the 
 sacramental  and  mystic  conceptions  of  the  Divine  Communion  ;  of  an 
 Infinite  Love,  who  gives  Himself  to  us,  whose  delight  it  is  to  dwell  with 
 us,  whose  yearning  is  for  our  answering  love,  who  makes  Himself  like  to 
 our  lowliness  that  He  may  reach  us  and  draw  us  to  Himself  j  who  can  in 
 irutli,  if  we  will  love  Him,  be  one  with  us  and  yet  our  God,  as  we  can 
 indeed  be  lost  in  Him  and  yet  be  none  the  Less  the  personal  selves  He 
 made. 
 
 I  cannot  pretend  to  tell  you,  even  remotely,  of  that  hidden  wisdom  of 
 the  spiritual  experience.  None  of  you  who  have  read  the  lives  and 
 writings  of  the  Saints  can  doubt  that  it  exists,  and  that  they  who  have 
 expressed  it  were  uttering  the  most  sacred  truths  they  knew,  for  the  truth 
 of  which  they  would  iiave  counted  it  a  joy  to  die.  You  may  think  they 
 are  deceived,  but  that  intense  belief  is  a  tremendous  fact  of  our  humanity, 
 and  has  had  and  still  has  its  immense  result.s.  There  is,  however,  you 
 explain  it,  a  human  craving  for  such  oneness  with  the  far-off  Infinite  ;  and 
 in  the  Mass  it  has  found,  among  all  manner  of  men,  its  full  and  abiding 
 satisfaction.  The  idea  of  such  communion  is,  as  you  already  know,  in- 
 herent in  its  earliest  plan,  as  it  was  the  main  idea  of  the  Last  Supper  itself. 
 In  the  primitive  limes,  the  actual  reception  of  the  Sacramental  Communion 
 by  all  present  was  the  usual  custom ;   but  at  an  early  date,  for  various 
 
THE  MASS.  481 
 
 reasons,  that  ceased  to  be  expected.  Nevertheless,  so  strongly  is  this  side 
 of  the  Mass  insisted  on  that  you  will  find  that  all  our  books  of  devotion 
 exhort  the  hearer,  if  he  is  not  prepared  for  the  actual  reception  of  the 
 Eucharist,  to  make  at  that  part  of  the  Mass  the  meditations  and  exercises 
 which  are  known  as  a  Spiritual  Conuuunion — that  he  may  thereby  take 
 unto  himself,  if  not  the  sacramental  fulness  of  the  Divine  Love,  at  least  so 
 much  of  the  sense  and  effect  of  that  union  with  the  present  God  as  in  his 
 duller  spiritual  state  he  may. 
 
 The  three  ideas  to  which  I  have  now  sought  to  direct  your  attention  are, 
 however,  all  dominated   by  the  last,  which  contains  in  itself  the  wide  and 
 fundamental  distinction  between  the  Mass  and  every  other  form  of  the 
 jiublic  worship  of  God.     I  have  called  it  the  realization  of  the  presence  of 
 God. 
 
 To  all  who  believe  in  God  He  must  of  logical  necessity  be,  in  some 
 sense,  always  present.  But  when  Christ  said  that  "where  two  or  three  are 
 gathered  together  in  ]\Iy  name,  there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them,"  He  was 
 referring  to  the  evident  fact  that  for  the  human  consciousness  there  may 
 and  must  be  a  special  presence  of  God,  on  those  occasions  when  His 
 children  come  before  Him.  Here,  as  so  often  in  the  Catholic  Creed,  we 
 come  upon  the  note  of  human  solidarity.  God  is  present  to  any  religious 
 soul ;  but  where  the  brethren  are  gathered  together — where  the  collective 
 life  of  the  Christian  society  is  manifested — there  He  is,  so  to  say,  more 
 fully  present,  and  more  near.  It  is  good  to  pray  alone,  and  to  lift  up  the 
 silent  worshij)  of  the  heart ;  but  it  is  better,  it  is  indeed  a  duty,  to  come 
 forth  and  join  with  others  in  a  social  act  of  worship,  in  a  common  prayer 
 for  all  the  common  need.  For  the  Church  of  Christ  is  above  all  things  an 
 organic  community,  wherein  none  are  isolated,  none  rejected,  none  sent 
 empty  away.  The  representative  office  of  the  Priest,  offering  the  Mass  in 
 the  name  of  all  the  people,  absent  as  well  as  present,  dead  as  well  as  alive, 
 is  itself  the  sign  and  token  of  this  corporate  character.  The  congregation 
 — each  particular  €/<KA.r;crt'u — is  but  the  representative  of  all  the  CInirch ; 
 and  to  each  there  comes,  as  we  believe,  the  real  presence  of  that  Lord  who 
 has  called  the  Church  His  bride. 
 
 It  is  not  enough  that  one  should  know,  as  an  intellectual  proposition, 
 that  God  is  here.  It  is  of  much  more  consequence  that  one  should  realize 
 it — that  His  personal  nearness  should  be  brought  home  to  one's  heart. 
 We  may  know  that  a  close  friend  is  not  far  off,  but  that  knowledge  has  on 
 us  a  very  different  effect  from  the  sound  of  a  well-known  step,  and  the 
 liearing  of  a  long-remembered  voice.  Now  the  one  thing  which,  above  all 
 else,  I  venture  here  to  claim  for  the  great  office  of  the  Catholic  Church  is, 
 that  it  brings  home  to  us  the  vivid,  palpable  sense  of  "  God  with  man." 
 
 At  this  point,  however,  the  subject  passes  out  beyond  my  reach.  I  have 
 more  than  occupied  the  space  of  time  appointed  to  me.  And  I  could  not 
 hope,  even  if  I  delayed  you  far  longer,  to  bring  home  to  you  what  is  meant 
 in  the  spiritual   experience   of  the    Catholic   world   by  the  Sacramental 
 
 VOL.   I. — pt.  2.  K   K 
 
482  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Presence.     There  are  some  things  which  it  is  not  granted  to  man  to  utter, 
 at  least  in  the  ordinary  ways  of  speech. 
 
 I  will  close,  therefore,  by  pointing  you  for  a  moment  to  an  entirely  dif- 
 ferent, but  not  alien,  aspect  of  the  great  office  of  the  Cliurch. 
 
 It  has  many  forms  and  many  uses,  but  in  such  a  world  as  we  live  in 
 there  is  one  great  use  wliich  should  not  be  forgotten.  It  may  clothe  itself 
 in  the  simplest  surroundings,  and  yet  do  all  its  work  for  men.  But  in  the 
 ancient  ritual  and  the  ceremonial  tradition  there  is  an  opportunity  which 
 the  Church  has  always  gladly  used,  of  clothing  upon  it  all  the  glory  of 
 architecture  ond  of  music,  all  the  wealth  of  colour  and  of  precious  things 
 which  the  devotion  of  the  servants  of  God  can  offer  in  the  highest  act  of 
 their  worship.  You  know,  my  friends,  what  an  infinite  impulse  this  very 
 desire  to  glorify  the  place  and  the  occasion  in  which  the  Lord  came  to 
 His  people,  has  been  to  Art  in  all  the  Catholic  centuries.  Until  some 
 such  religious  fervour  comes  again,  your  Art  will  strive  but  slowly.  Do 
 not  say  :  "  To  what  purpose  is  this  waste  ?  "  That  which  in  the  service  of 
 God  is  used  to  make  more  glorious  the  common  worship  of  the  people  is 
 one  of  the  best  gifts  that  can  be  given  to  God's  poor.  In  many  parts  of 
 the  East  End  of  London,  as  a  Protestant  observer  lately  said,  there  is  no 
 place  of  light  and  beauty  but  the  Catholic  Church.  And  what  higher 
 work  can  art  and  beauty  do  than  that  of  the  handmaid  of  a  religion  which 
 is  itself  the  solace  and  inspiration  of  the  poor?  If  I  could  go  on  to  tell 
 you  what  we  know  of  the  human  uses  which  this  office  serves,  I  should 
 have  much  to  say  of  its  utility  for  many  kinds  of  men.  But  it  is  to  the 
 poor,  whom  He  most  loved  on  earth,  that  the  fullest  advantage  of  His 
 great  commemoration  comes.  You  may  do  much  for  social  conditions — 
 you  may  redress  much  injustice  and  open  many  avenues  of  success ;  but 
 nothing  you  can  do  will  compensate  those  who  bear  the  misery  of  the 
 world  for  what  they  will  lose  if  you  deprive  them  of  a  living  religion,  and 
 of  that  great  public  act  in  which  all  that  is  hard  in  human  conditions  needs 
 must  fall  away,  and  in  which  all  that  is  glorious  in  hunian  wealth  is  taken 
 up  into  the  glory  of  the  Divine. 
 
483 
 
 THE    RELIGION    OF    DAXTE. 
 
 By  Oscar  Browning,  ^T.A. 
 
 Nothing  is  more  remarkable  than  the  manner  in  which  the  reputation  of 
 Dante  has  developed  with  the  new  growth  of  national  life  in  the  kingdom 
 of  Italy.  There  was  a  time  when,  although  his  name  was  famous,  his  works 
 were  comparatively  unread.  Tasso  was  sung  by  Venetian  gondoliers,  and 
 shared  with  the  Promessi  Sposi  the  honour  of  being  an  Italian  text-book 
 for  studious  youth.  The  knowledge  of  Dante  was  confined  to  the  Inferno, 
 and  in  that  almost  to  the  two  episodes  of  Francesca  da  Rimini  and  Ugo- 
 lino,  the  pair  of  unfortunate  lovers  who  expiated  their  fault  by  being  borne 
 everlastingly  upon  a  rushing  wind;  and  the  father  who,  murdered  by  the 
 vengeance  of  an  implacable  enemy,  fed  in  his  last  agony  on  the  bodies  of 
 his  children,  who  had  died  before  him. 
 
 With  the  first  flush  of  Italian  independence  this  state  of  things  entirely 
 changed.     I  was  privileged  to  witness  from   time   to   time  the  marvellous 
 spectacle  of  the  renascence  of  Italy.     I  remember  Milan  before  Magenta, 
 and  Verona  before  Custozza ;  Milan,  when  any  citizen  was  liable  to   be 
 roused   from   his  bed,  and  imprisoned  in  a  fortress  without  a  trial ;  and 
 Verona,  when  it  was  dangerous  to  speak  seriously  except  in  the  open  fields. 
 I  witnessed  the  rivalry  of  Cavour  and  Garibaldi  at  Turin,  and  read  in  the 
 streets  of  Parma  tlie  half-hourly  telegrams  which  announced  the  entry  of 
 the  Italian  troops  into  other  marches.     As  soon  as  the  Press  was  free,  it 
 teemed  with  cheap  editions  of  Dante.     They  were  exposed  in  every  book- 
 shop and  kiosque,  and  were  hawked  about  the  streets  on  trays.     The  fever 
 spread  from  Turin  to  Florence,  from   Florence  to  Rome,  and  from  Rome 
 to  Naples.     Dante  was  lectured  upon  to  ladies,  and  taught  as  a  classic  in 
 the  schools.     Undoubtedly  this  enthusiasm  sprang  chiefly  from  political 
 causes.     Dante  was  a  Ghibelline— that   is,  in    the   great   struggle   which 
 divided  Italy  between  the  party  of  authority  and  the  party  of  local  indepen- 
 dence, he  supported  the  party  of  authority.     He  believed  in  the  subordina- 
 tion of  the  Papacy  to  the  Empire,  in  the  presence  of  a  strong  ruler  who 
 could  quell  the  discordant  rivalries  of  Italian  cities,  and  educe  order  out  of 
 chaos  :  above  all,  he  believed  in  the  unity  of  Italy,  that  great  cause  which 
 was  then  in  process  of  consummation.     Dante,  in  his  first  canto,  prophesies 
 of  the  coming  hero,  the  greyhound  who,  disregarding  the  gain  of  money 
 and  territory,  is  to  drive  the  wolf  of  the  Papacy  from  city  to  city  until  she 
 returns  to  the   hell  from  which   she  sprang.     It  was  a  favourite  conceit, 
 which  has  not  altogether  disappeared,  that  the  greyhound — the  Veltro — 
 began  with  the  two  initials  of  Victor  Emmanuel's  name,  and  that  the  whole 
 
484  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 title  might  run  Vittorio   Emmanuele,  Liberatore,  Trionfatere,  Re   Ottimo 
 (Victor  Emmanuel,  the  Liberator,  the  Triumpher,  the  Best  of  Kings). 
 
 But  Dante  has  not  been  without  his  revival  on  the  religious  side. 
 When  the  leaders  of  the  Oxford  movement  were  leaving  the  Church  of 
 England,  which  they  believed  to  be  corrupt,  for  the  Church  of  Rome, 
 which  they  imagined  they  could  purify,  they  studied  Dante  as  the  source  of 
 undofiled  religion.  In  him  they  found,  or  thought  they  found,  an  orthodoxy 
 unimpeaclied,  a  faith  founded  on  reason  and  knowledge,  unembittered  by 
 the  theological  disputes  which  followed  the  Reformation,  and  transfused 
 by  passionate  love  of  humanity  and  truth. 
 
 What  then  are  the  essential  characteristics  of  the  religion  of  Dante  ? 
 How  does  Dante  deal  with  what  are  the  three  necessary  component  parts 
 of  all  religions— Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity  ;  which  last  more  fitly  bears  the 
 name  of  Love  ?  These  three  virtues — the  theological  virtues  as  they  are 
 sometimes  called — are  symbolized  by  a  cross,  an  anchor,  and  a  heart. 
 The  heart  is  symbolical  of  Charity  or  Love,  but  in  mediaeval  Italian  sculp- 
 ture Charity  is  figured  by  a  woman  who  has  not  only  her  heart  but  her 
 brain  on  fire,  showing  that  real  love,  the  true  enthusiasm  of  humanity, 
 must  not  only  inflame  the  heart  with  burning  zeal,  but  must  set  the  mind 
 aglow  until  it  disregards  the  dictates  of  cool  reason.  Reason  has  no  place 
 where  emotion  is  the  guiding  principle.  The  cross,  the  symbol  of  Chris- 
 tianity, represents  revealed  religion,  the  dogma  which  could  not  be  known 
 to  us  except  by  a  tradition  which  is  apart  from  and  above  the  effects  of 
 human  wisdom.  There  remains  the  anchor  of  Hope,  that  quality  which, 
 when  the  heart  and  the  brain  are  on  fire  and  the  mind  is  lifted  into  the 
 region  of  revealed  truth,  keeps  the  soul  fixed  to  a  sure  and  certain  anchor- 
 age. This  was  afforded  in  Dante's  case  by  intellectual  knowledge — the 
 knowledge  of  the  world  and  of  the  universe,  as  far  as  it  can  be  ascertained 
 by  human  understanding  ;  the  realization  of  the  past,  the  present,  and  the 
 future  of  man  ;  the  lower  life  from  which  he  has  gradually  emerged,  the 
 environments  which  surround  and  condition  his  existence,  and  the  destiny 
 which  awaits  him.  Let  us,  then,  study  the  religion  of  Dante  under  these 
 three  aspects.  Let  us  consider  in  turn  :  of  what  nature  was  his  love  ; 
 what  was  his  knowledge  of  the  world  and  of  man  ;  what  was  the  complexion 
 of  his  faith  ;  and,  lastly,  how  these  three  qualities  were  fused  together  into 
 a  harmonious  whole,  so  as  to  survive  to  future  ages  and  influence  a  distant 
 [)0Sterity. 
 
 Let  us  first  speak  of  the  origin  and  character  of  his  love.  The  name  of 
 Dante  is  inseparable  from  that  of  Beatrice.  Dante  was  born  at  Florence, 
 about  the  middle  of  May  1265.  He  first  met  Beatrice  Portinari,  at  the 
 house  of  her  father,  Folco  Portinari,  on  I\Lay-day,  1274.  In  the  Viia 
 Numa  ("  The  Young  Life  "),  which  gives  an  account  of  this  absorbing 
 passion,  he  tells  us  :  "  Already  nine  times  after  my  birth  the  heaven  of 
 light  had  returned  as  it  were  to  the  same  period,  when  there  appeared  to 
 my  eyes  the  glorious  lady  of  my  mind,  who  was  by  many  called  Beatrice, 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  DANTE.  485 
 
 who  knew  not  what  to  call  her.     She  had  already  been  so  long  in  this  life 
 that  already  in  its  time  the  starry  heaven  had  moved  toward  the  east  the 
 twelfth  part  of  a  degree,  so  that  she  appeared  to   me  about  the  beginning 
 of  her  ninth  year,  and  I  saw  her  about  the  end  of  my  ninth  year.     Her 
 dress  on  that  day  was  of  a  most  noble  nature,  a  subdued  and  goodly  crimson, 
 girdled  and  adorned  in  such   sort  as  best  suited  with  her  tender  age.     At 
 that  moment  I  saw  most  truly  that  the  spirit  of  life,  which  hath  its  dwell- 
 ing in  the  most  secret  chamber  of  the  heart,  began  to  tremble  so  violently 
 that  the  least  pulses  of  my  body  shook  therewith,  and  in  trembling  it  said 
 these   words  :     '  Ecce    deus  fortior   me    qui    veniens    dominaritur  mihi ! ' 
 '  Behold  a  god  stronger  than  I  am,  who  in  his  coming  will  have  lordship 
 over  me  ! '     From  that  time  forth  I  declare  that  love  had  lordship  over 
 my  soul,  which  was   speedily  placed   at  its  disposition,  and  it  began  to 
 assume  over  me  such  authority  by  the   power  which  my  miagi nation  gave 
 it  that  I  was  forced  to  perform  all  its  behests.     Love  ordered  me  many 
 times  to  take  occasion  to  see  this  youngest  of  the  angels,  so  that  in  my  boy- 
 hood many  a  lime  I  went  about  in  search  of  her,  and  saw  that  she  had  such 
 noble  and  praiseworthy  carriage  that  certainly  there  might  be  used  of  her 
 the  expression  of  the  poet  Homer,  '  She  appeared  to  be  a  daughter,  not  of 
 man,  but  of  God.'     And  although  the  image  which  always  abided  with  me 
 was  the   boldness  at  Love  to  lord   it  over  me,  yet  it  was  of  such  noble 
 power  that  at  no  time  did  it  suffer  that  Love  should  guide  me  without  the 
 faithful  counsel  of  reason  in  those  things  in  which  such  counsel  was  useful 
 to  listen  to." 
 
 Another  story  of  a  contemporary  tells  us  of  this  marvellous  and  absorb- 
 ing love.  Dante,  when  he  has  related  in  the  fifth  canto  of  the  Inferno  the 
 punishments  of  Francescada  Rimini  and  her  lover,  says  that  the  tears  they 
 shed  at  the  end  of  their  narrative  affected  him  so  deeply  that  he  felt  his 
 forces  fail  as  if  in  death,  and  fell  as  a  dead  body  falls.  A  note  in  the  MS. 
 of  Monte  Cassino,  evidently  written  by  some  one  who  knew  Dante,  says 
 that  this  experience  befell  Dante  himself,  and  that  one  day,  unexpectedly 
 meeting  Beatrice  on  the  staircase  of  a  house,  he  fell  suddenly  to  the 
 ground  as  if  he  were  dead.  Dante  lost  his  father  when  he  was  ten  years 
 old  ;  and  his  boyhood  and  youth  for  the  next  eight  years  were  spent  in 
 severe  study.  His  next  memorable  meeting  with  Beatrice  was  nine  years 
 later,  when  this  marvellous  lady  appeared  to  him  in  a  dress  of  dazzling 
 white.  She  was  accompanied  by  two  older  ladies,  one  on  each  side,  and 
 as  she  passed  Dante  in  the  street  she  turned  her  eyes  to  where  he  stood 
 full  of  fear,  and,  of  her  ineffable  courtesy,  saluted  him  so  virtuously  that 
 all  the  blessedness  of  heaven  seemed  open  to  Dante's  eyes.  This  was  the 
 first  time  that  he  ever  heard  her  speak  ;  and  the  words  came  to  his  ears 
 with  such  sweetness  that  he  went  away  as  if  intoxicated  with  delight.  He 
 then  retired  to  a  solitary  ])lace  in  his  chamber  and  set  himself  to  think  of 
 that  most  courteous  lady  ;  and  as  he  thought,  there  came  upon  him  a  very 
 sweet  sleep,  in  which  there  appeared  to  him  a  marvellous  vision.     There 
 
486  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 appeared  to  him  in  his  chamber  a  cloud  of  the  colour  of  fire,  and  within 
 this  cloud  was  seen  a  figure  of  fearful  aspect,  who  said,  with  much  that 
 Dante  did  not  understand,  "  I  am  thy  Lord."  He  bore  in  his  arms  the 
 body  of  Beatrice  asleep,  wrapped  lightly  in  a  blood-coloured  cloth.  In 
 one  of  his  hands  he  held  a  burning  heart,  the  heart  of  Dante.  Gradually 
 the  sleeping  lady  whom  he  bore  awoke,  and  the  Lord  of  Love  forced  her 
 to  feed  on  Dante's  burning  heart,  which  she  did  with  much  hesitation. 
 Then  the  joy  of  Love  turned  to  sorrow,  and  weeping  bitterly  he  went  back 
 to  the  heaven  -from  which  he  had  come,  carrying  with  him  the  lady  in  his 
 arms.  Folco  Portinari,  the  father  of  Beatrice,  died  on  the  last  day  of 
 the  year  1285.  Beatrice  only  lived  four  years  longer.  .Shortly  before  her 
 death  Dante  had  an  illness,  on  the  sixth  day  of  which  he  suffered  intoler- 
 able agony  ;  and  while  he  reflected — at  one  time  on  his  weakness,  and  at 
 another  time  on  Beatrice — it  came  into  his  mind  that  Beatrice  also  would 
 die  some  day,  and  this  reflection  greatly  troubled  him.  Horrible  dreams 
 assailed  him,  in  which  women  with  dishevelled  hair  cried  to  him,  "  You 
 will  die,"  and  other  strange  faces  said,  "  Thou  art  dead."  Then  a  fiend 
 announced  to  him  that  Beatrice  was  dead,  and  he  thought  he  saw  a  multi- 
 tude of  angels  bearing  her  up  to  heaven  with  a  dazzling  cloud  in  front  of 
 them.  The  vision  was  so  real  that  Dante  wept  bitterly,  licatrice  died  in 
 very  truth  at  daybreak  on  June  9th,  1290.  In  the  words  of  Dante,  "The 
 Lord  of  Justice  called  that  most  gentle  lady  to  glory  under  the  banner  of 
 that  Blessed  Queen  the  Virgin  Mary,  whose  name  was  in  very  great  rever- 
 ence in  the  words  of  that  blessed  Beatrice." 
 
 From  the  moment  of  her  death  Beatrice  becomes  more  than  ever  the 
 guide  and  loadstar  of  Dante's  life.  She  is  so  transfused  into  his  studies 
 and  his  faith  that  many  have  supposed  that  she  never  really  existed,  but 
 was  a  mere  abstraction,  whereas  all  the  notices  of  her  in  tiie  Vita  Niiova, 
 as  well  as  much  in  the  Divina  Cofinnedia,  prove  that  she  was  really  a 
 creature  of  flesh  and  blood.  As  I  shall  show  later,  she  was  the  stimulus 
 to  Dante's  studies,  and  the  purifier  of  his  life.  A  year  after  Beatrice's 
 death  Dante  married  Gemma  de'  Donati,  who  bore  him  seven  children. 
 JJealrice  was  also  married  at  an  early  age,  but  their  unions  did  not  jjreclude 
 the  deepest  spiritual  love.  Let  us  trace  some  of  the  relations  between 
 Beatrice  and  Dante  in  the  Divine  Comedy.  I  need  hardly  say  that  this 
 epic  poem  is  the  story  of  the  wanderings  of  Dante  through  Hell,  Purga- 
 tory, and  Paradise.  Vergil,  the  great  ])oet  of  Rome,  was  his  guide  through 
 the  first  and  second,  lieatrice  through  the  third,  of  these  regions.  ]5ut 
 Beatrice  was  the  moving  spirit  of  the  whole  journey.  Vergil  tells  him 
 when  they  first  meet  at  the  entrance  of  Hell  how  a  lady,  beautiful  and 
 blessed,  had  called  him  with  eyes  brighter  than  the  sun  ;  and  how  she  had 
 told  him  sweetly  and  afiably,  with  the  voice  of  an  angel,  that  Dante,  her 
 friend,  but  not  the  friend  of  Fortune,  was  so  impeded  on  the  desert  stage 
 of  life  that  he  was  nearly  lost.  "Help  him,"  she  said,  "with  everything 
 that  can  assist  him,  that  I  may  be  consoled.     Beatrice  is  my  name.     Love 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  DANTE.  487 
 
 impelled  mc  to  si)eak  to  you,   and  sent  me  to  you  ;    when  I  return  to 
 Heaven  1  will  speak  in  tliy  praise  to  the  Lord."     Beatrice  does  not  appear 
 herself  until  the  poet  and  his  guide,  after  passing  through  the  pit  of  Hell, 
 reach  the  earthly  Paradise  on  the  summit  of  the  hill  of  Purgatory.     Then 
 as  the  car,  which  represented  the  Church  Militant,  halted  with  its  atten- 
 dant hosts  "  in  the  bosom  of  a  cloud  of  flowers,  thrown  by  angelic  hands, 
 a  lady  appeared  clothed  in  a  green  mantle  and  a  flame-coloured  dress,  with 
 an  olive  cross  over  her  snow-white  veil."     Without  distinctly  seeing  who  it 
 was,  Dante  felt  the  power  of  the  ancient  love.     The  old  influence  which 
 had  i)ierced  him  in  his  childhood  now  struck  him  in  the  eyes,  and  made 
 him  weep.     Like  a  child  who  runs  to  his  mother  in  fear  or  aftliction  he 
 turned  to  Vergil,  trembling  in  all  his  veins,  but  that  sweetest  of  fathers  and 
 best  of  guides  was  gone.     "  Dante,"  the  lady  said,  "  weep   not  because 
 Vergil  is  gone  ;  there  is  enough  to  make  you  weep  without  that.     Look  at 
 me  well,  I  am  Beatrice  ;  I  am  Beatrice.     How  did  you  dare  approach  this 
 mountain   of   blessedness  ?     Did  you  not  know  that  here  man  is  happy  ?  " 
 ])ante  cast  down  his  eyes  in  shame.     She  then  relates  the   story  of  their 
 spiritual  union,  addressing  the  angels  which  surround  them.       "  Dante," 
 she  says,   "  in  his  early  life  was  such  that  he  would  have  given  wonderful 
 proof  of  every  righteous  action.     But  the  strongest  soil,  if  uncultivated, 
 often  bears  the  most  noxious  weeds.     For  a  long  time  I  enchained  him 
 with  my  countenance ;  and  by  the  light  of  my  youthful  eyes  I  led  him  in 
 the  right  way  ;  but  when  I  changed  my  earthly  life  for  a  heavenly  he  took 
 himself  from  me  and  gave  himself  to  another.     When  my  flesh  had  become 
 spirit,  and  I  was  more  beautiful,  more  virtuous,  than  before,  I  became  less 
 dear  and  less  acceptable  to   him.     He  turned  his  feet   on  a   false  way, 
 following  vain  images.     I  tried  to  rescue  him  by  dreams  and  other  means, 
 but  they  were  of  no  avail ;    he  fell  so  low  that  nothing  remained  but  to 
 show  him  the  inhabitants  of  Hell.     For  his  sake  I  visited  the  gate  of  Hell, 
 and  prayed  Vergil  to  lead  him  hither." 
 
 The  manner  of  Dante's  ascent  through  the  various  circles  of  Heaven 
 is  deeply  characteristic  of  his  absorbing  devotion.  He  looks  with  fixed 
 gaze  into  the  eyes  of  Beatrice,  and,  by  this  power  alone,  he  is  raised  from 
 the  summit  of  the  mount  of  Purgatory — first  into  tlie  sphere  of  fire  which 
 lies  immediately  above  it,  and  then  into  the  heaven  of  the  moon.  From 
 this  he  passes  successively  into  each  of  the  heavens  until  he  reaches  the 
 Empyrean.  The  face  of  Beatrice,  her  eyes,  and  her  smile  acquire  fresh 
 beauty  at  each  ascent,  so  that  when  they  reach  the  seventh  and  last  sphere 
 his  mortal  gaze  cannot  endure  the  exceeding  light,  and  he  is  obliged  to  find 
 means  of  tempering  it. 
 
 In  the  Coiivito,  the  philosophical  treatise  which  Dante  composed,  be- 
 tween the  love  story  of  the  Vita  Nuova  and  the  great  poem  which  was  the 
 crown  of  his  career,  he  tells  us  that  Beatrice  is  the  type  of  Divine  wisdom, 
 and  that  in  her  face  appear  things  which  tell  of  the  pleasures  of  Paradise, 
 and  that  the  place  wherein  this  appears  is  in  her  eyes  and  smile.     For  the 
 
488  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 eyes  of  wisdom  are  the  two  methods  of  demonstration  by  wliich  truth  is 
 most  clearly  seen,  and  the  smile  of  wisdom  is  the  persuasion  in  which  the 
 inner  light  of  wisilom  is  seen,  although  under  a  veil.  And  in  these  two 
 things,  demonstration  and  persuasion,  is  felt  that  highest  pleasure  of  beati- 
 tude which  is  the  greatest  good  in  Paradise.  The  lines  which  describe  his 
 arrival  into  this  highest  heaven  are  among  the  most  beautiful  with  which 
 Dante  was  ever  inspired.  He  says  that  the  remembrance  of  her  sweet 
 smile  is  as  far  above  the  heaven  of  his  mind  as  the  light  of  the  sun  sur- 
 passes the  weakest  eyesight.  He  has  followed  her,  he  tells  us  in  his  verse, 
 from  the  first  day  that  he  ever  beheld  her  up  to  the  present  moment,  but 
 now  her  beauty  transcends  all  his  power  of  poetic  description  ;  for  every 
 artist  has  a  limit  beyond  which  he  cannot  go.  He  must  leave  the  further 
 praise  of  her  beauty  to  a  louder  sound  than  that  of  his  trumpet.  "  We 
 issued  from  the  ninth  heaven  to  that  heaven  whicli  is  pure  light." 
 
 "  Liglit  intellectual,  full  of  burning  love, 
 Love  of  the  very  good,  full  of  deiiglit, 
 Delight  which  far  transcends  all  human  sweetness." 
 
 "  Luce  intellettual,  plena  d'amore, 
 Amor  di  vuro  hen,  pien  di  letizia, 
 Leli/.ia  die  trasccnde  ogni  dolzore." 
 
 After  Beatrice  has  explained  to  Dante  the  features  of  the  scene  on  which 
 he  gazes,  and  has  concluded  with  a  severe  attack  on  Pope  Clement  V.,  she 
 remains  silent.  Full  of  amazement  he  stands  gazing  at  the  vast  amphi- 
 theatre of  saints,  and  the  multitude  of  angels  burning  with  love,  quivering 
 llames  of  fire,  their  wings  of  gold,  and  the  rest  of  them  whiter  than  snow. 
 Like  swarms  of  bees  they  float  up  and  down  from  bench  to  bench  of  the 
 saints,  giving  them  peace  and  ardour,  mounting  as  high  as  the  throne  of 
 God  Himself  to  rekindle  their  flames,  singing  all  the  time  in  praise  to  God, 
 who  inspires  them  with  love.  Yet  amongst  this  multitude  of  flying  angels, 
 and  in  spite  of  the  vastness  of  the  distance,  Dante  can  see  that  all  these 
 saints  have  their  faces  turned  to  the  central  point  of  all,  which  is  God 
 Himself.  He  sees  the  joyousness  of  their  smile  and  the  energy  of  their 
 action.  His  gaze  passes  now  up,  now  down,  along  the  benches ;  and  by 
 degrees  he  becomes  aware  of  the  general  form  and  constitution  of  the 
 heavenly  Paradise.  He  turns  for  a  moment  to  his  beloved  guide  to  ask 
 for  some  explanation,  but  she  is  gone.  In  her  place  is  a  venerable  old 
 man  in  glorious  attire.  This  is  St.  Bernard,  the  last  of  the  Fathers. 
 Beatrice  has  mounted  to  her  own  individual  throne  in  the  heavenly  place, 
 and  has  sent  him  to  conduct  the  poet  to  the  end.  He  sees  her  in  the  third 
 row  from  the  summit,  crowned  with  the  Divine  light  which  is  reflected 
 from  her  face;  he  sends  her  loving  words  of  thanks  for  all  the  care  she 
 has  taken  in  drawing  him  from  slavery  to  true  liberty,  and  he  prays  her  to 
 continue  to  protect  him  until  his  death.  Beatrice  looks  at  him  and  smiles, 
 and  then  turns  to  the  central  point  of  light  which  is  the  source  of  all 
 beatitude.     'I'he  function  of  Love  is  over,  that  of  Faith  has  begun.     Love 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  DANTE.  489 
 
 has  taught  all  that  the  mind  can  apprehend,  what  remains  can  be  traced 
 by  intuition  alone. 
 
 Such  as  I  have  attempted  to  describe  was  the  foundation  and  the  scope 
 of  Dante's  love.  Let  us  now  see  what  were  the  grounds  of  his  hope — or, 
 as  I  have  explained  it,  his  conception  of  the  world,  of  the  value  of  human 
 action,  bad  and  good,  and  of  the  destinies  which  accompany  it  here  and 
 hereafter.  To  make  this  intelligible,  I  must  give  an  account  of  Dante's 
 cosmogony,  his  realization  of  Hell,  Purgatory,  and  Heaven — very  distinct 
 and  precise,  and  yet  full  of  symbolism. 
 
 Dante  regards  the  world  as  consisting  of  two  hemispheres— the  eastern, 
 in  which  we  live,  composed  almost  entirely  of  land  ;  the  western  hemi- 
 sphere opposite  to  it,  almost  wholly  water.  The  central  point  of  our 
 hemisphere  is  Jerusalem,  the  city  in  which  the  great  drama  of  the  Incarna- 
 tion was  played  and  consummated.  Things  were  quite  different  until  the 
 fall  of  the  rebel  angels.  Lucifer,  their  leader,  driven  headlong  from  heaven, 
 plunged  into  the  earth — the  western  hemisphere,  which  was  then  a 
 continent  with  the  Garden  of  Eden  in  its  midst.  The  eastern  half  was 
 till  then  shrouded  in  sea.  The  West,  in  horror  at  what  had  happened, 
 veiled  itself  beneath  the  waves  of  the  East,  which  left  the  land  there  dry. 
 All  that  then  remained  in  the  West  was  the  island  of  Eden.  Lucifer  fell 
 into  the  earth  till  he  reached  the  centre  of  gravity,  the  middle  point,  from 
 which  he  could  move  neither  backwards  nor  forwards.  The  earth  fled 
 before  him  and  left  a  large  pit,  the  inverted  cone  of  Hell — something  like 
 those  great  diamond-pits  in  South  Africa,  of  which  we  see  models  and 
 pictures — but  reaching  right  down  to  the  centre  of  the  earth.  The  earth 
 thus  displaced  rose  under  the  land  of  the  earthly  Paradise  situated  just 
 o[)posite  Jerusalem,  lifting  it  up  as  on  the  summit  of  a  mountain,  which 
 forms  the  mountain  of  Purgatory,  up  the  side  of  which  Dante  and  his 
 guide  Vergil  laboriously  climbed.  The  base  of  this  world  is  surrounded 
 by  the  sphere  of  air,  subject  to  the  ordinary  variations  of  heat  and  cold, 
 rain  and  drought,  storm  and  tempest.  Above  this  is  the  sphere  of  fire. 
 The  boundaries  of  these  two  spheres  lie  at  the  dividing  line  between 
 Purgatory  and  Ante-purgatorj',  just  where  the  gate,  guarded  by  St.  Peter, 
 admits  souls  stained  with  sin  to  the  mountain  of  purification.  Beyond 
 these  two  spheres  of  air  and  fire — which,  with  the  earth  and  water  of 
 which  the  world  is  composed,  form  the  four  elements — lie  the  nine 
 heavens,  each  including  the  others,  like  hollow  revolving  spheres  or  the 
 coats  of  an  onion.  The  first  is  the  sphere  of  the  moon  ;  everything 
 beneath  that  is  sublunary,  or  of  inferior  quality.  The  second  heaven  is  of 
 ]\iercury,  the  third  of  Venus,  the  fourth  of  the  Sun,  which  in  Dante's  time 
 was  regarded  as  a  planet,  the  fifth  of  ]\Iars,  the  sixth  of  Jupiter,  and  the 
 seventh  of  Saturn.  Outside  these  comes  the  Cielo  stcUato  (or,  the  heaven 
 of  the  fixed  stars);  outside  this  again  is  the  Cielo  cristallino  (the  crystalline 
 heaven) — the  Frinium  mobile  (the  first  moved)  of  Milton — itself,  as  the 
 widest  in  circumference,  moving  witli  extreme  rapidity,  the  source  of  the 
 
490  JUCLIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 movements  of  all  the  other  heavens,  which  revolve  within  it  with  gradually 
 slackening  speed.  Vet  beyond  this  is  the  Enipireo  (the  Empyrean), 
 without  motion  and  without  limit,  the  dwelling-place  of  God  Himself  and 
 of  His  saints.  This  is  arranged  in  the  form  of  a  rose,  surrounding  a  vast 
 and  gleaming  lake,  which  is  formed  by  the  reflection  of  the  original 
 uncreated  light  on  the  edge  of  the  Primum  7nol>iit\  the  angels  and  saints 
 of  God.  The  centre  of  the  rose  lies  directly  opposite  to  the  earthly 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 Thus  much  is  necessary  to  understand  Dante's  conception  of  the  world 
 and  of  vice  and  virtue.  We  must  now  give  a  more  particular  account  of 
 the  construction  of  Hell.  This  is  conceived  as  a  pit  in  the  shape  of  a 
 funnel  or  inverted  cone.  Just  as  the  circles  of  Paradise  become  gradually 
 larger  and  more  intense  in  hapj)iness  as  they  increase  in  size,  so  in  Hell 
 the  torment  becomes  more  severe  as  the  circles  are  contracted.  The  Hell 
 of  Dante,  like  that  of  Milton,  is  entered  by  a  gate  which  is  closed  to  none. 
 It  has  remained  unlocked  ever  since  Christ,  after  His  Crucifixion,  forced  a 
 passage  through  it.     Over  it  in  dark  letters  is  the  following  inscription  : — 
 
 "  Per  me  si  va  nella  cilta  dolente, 
 Per  nie  si  va  nell'  eteino  dolore. 
 Per  me  si  va  tra  la  peiduta  gente. 
 (jiusti/.ia  move  il  mio  alto  fattore, 
 Fecemi  la  divina  Podestate 
 La  suiiima  sapienza,  e  il  primo  aiiioie. 
 Innan/.i  a  me  non  fur  cose  create. 
 Se  iKjii  eterne,  ed  io  eterno  diiro  : 
 Lasciate  ogni  speranza  voi  cli'  entrate. " 
 
 After  passing  this  gate  the  wanderers  enter  into  a  dreary  Ante-Hell, 
 which  is  bounded  by  Acheron,  the  river  of  woe,  the  fust  of  the  four 
 infernal  rivers,  counterparts  to  the  four  rivers  of  Paradise  ;  the  other  three 
 being  Styx,  Phlegethon,  and  Cocytus.  On  this  river  Charon  plies  his  boat 
 and  conveys  the  souls  across.  Hell,  thus  reached,  is  divided  into  nine 
 concentric  circles,  each  being  a  landing-place  in  the  descent,  having  or^ 
 one  side  the  wall  of  solid  earth,  and  on  the  other  the  void  of  the  abyss. 
 The  first  circle  is  Limbo,  of  which  more  anon.  At  the  entrance  of  the 
 second  circle  sits  the  judge  Minos.  He  is  furnished  with  a  long  tail,  and 
 has  a  peculiar  way  of  pronouncing  judgment.  Each  soul  as  it  comes 
 before  him  confesses  his  sins,  and  Minos,  as  soon  as  he  has  heard  them, 
 switches  his  tail  round  him  with  varying  degrees  of  vehemence.  The 
 sinner  is  sent  to  that  circle  which  is  indicated  by  the  number  of  times  that 
 the  tail  of  Minos  encircles  his  body.  The  justice  of  Hell  is  very  speedy. 
 As  Dante  says  in  a  line  which  imitates  the  (juickness  of  the  sentence — 
 
 "  Dicono,  c  odono,  e  poi  son  giii  volte." 
 
 Upper  Hell  consists  of  the  first  six  circles.  Below  that  is  Nether  Hell. 
 Ik-low  the  sixth  circle  is  a  fearful  chasm  exhaling  an  intolerable  stench, 
 in  which  the  monster  Minotaur,  half  bull,  half-man,  prowls  about;  to  it 
 leads  a  terrible  and  precipitous  landslip— made  by  the  earthquake  of  the 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  DAXTE.  491 
 
 Crucifixion.  At  the  foot  of  this  is  the  seventh  circle,  divided  into  three 
 concentric  rings.  The  first  of  these  is  formed  by  Phlegethon,  a  river  of 
 boihng  blood.  Within  this  is  a  wood  of  living  trees,  and  beyond  it  a 
 dreary  sand  waste,  rained  upon  by  flakes  of  fire.  Below  this  ngain  is  a 
 void  of  appalling  depth,  down  which  Phlegethon  dives.  Uante  and  Vergil 
 can  only  descend  by  riding  on  the  back  of  the  monster  Geryon — with  face 
 of  man  and  trunk  of  serpent,  apt  emblem  of  fraud,  ^^'e  now  reach  the 
 famous  Malebolge  (or  evil  pits),  huge  concentric  ditches  separated  by 
 walls,  and  connected  by  bridges  of  rock,  in  which  different  degrees  of 
 flame  are  furnished.  After  the  ten  pits  of  Malebolge  we  reach  another 
 steep  descent,  that  which  lies  above  the  ninth  and  last  circle.  This  is  the 
 well  of  the  giants.  Nimrod,  the  Titans,  and  the  other  giants  stand  tower- 
 ing to  the  height  of  about  seventy  feet.  Their  heads  rise  far  above 
 Malebolge,  while  their  feet  rest  on  the  frozen  floor  of  the  abyss.  Here  we 
 reach  Cocytus,  a  stagnant  pool,  not  a  river,  the  pool  of  Lamentation. 
 The  fire  is  now  past,  and  thick-ribbed  ice  takes  its  place.  In  this  lower 
 depth  are  punished  the  traitors  ;  the  four  belts  of  Cocytus  are  marked  by 
 the  names  of  the  most  notorious  traitors  punished  in  them.  Caina 
 contains  those  who,  like  Cain,  betrayed  their  nearest  kindred  ;  Antenora 
 those  who,  like  Antenor,  betrayed  their  country  ;  Ptolomea  those  who, 
 like  Ptolemy  the  Younger,  betrayed  their  friends  and  guests ;  and,  last  of 
 all,  Giudecca,  containing  those  who,  like  Judas,  betrayed  their  benefactors 
 and  their  masters. 
 
 We  have  now  reached  the  centre  of  tlie  world,  the  final  period  of  all 
 things,  and  in  this  is  deeply  embedded  the  monstrous  form  of  Lucifer. 
 He  has  three  faces — that  in  the  centre  is  red,  the  right-hand  face  is  yellow, 
 and  the  left  black.  Peneath  each  face  two  huge  bat-wings  flap  with  steady 
 but  ceaseless  motion,  causing  the  icy  wind  which  freezes  Cocytus.  Li  the 
 three  mouths  of  Lucifer  are  crunched  the  three  arch-traitors  of  the  world. 
 Who  are  they?  I  doubt  if  you  would  ever  guess.  The  central  mouth 
 contains  Judas  Iscariot,  the  betrayer  of  Christ,  who  is  not  only  marked  by 
 the  teeth,  but  torn  by  the  claws,  of  the  fallen  angel.  The  two  other  mouths 
 hold  Brutus  and  Cassius,  the  murderers  of  Ccesar.  Thus,  in  Dante's  large 
 and  generous  survey  of  the  history  of  the  world,  are  Christ  and  Caesar 
 brought  together  :  one,  the  Founder  of  the  Church  and  the  Suzerain  Head 
 of  the  Vicegerent  Power  ;  the  other  the  consummation  of  humanity,  the 
 founder  of  the  Roman  Empire,  the  divine  scheme  for  the  order  and 
 governance  of  the  world,  the  origin  and  suzerain  of  the  holy  line  of 
 emperors  whose  sword  of  justice  and  power  Dante  continually  invoked  to 
 restrain  and  subdue  to  harmony  the  jarring  feuds  of  distracted  Italy. 
 
 Such  is  the  form  of  Hell,  as  conceived  by  Dante.  Let  us  now  consider 
 what  Dante  tells  us  as  to  right  and  wrong,  as  to  the  comparative  goodness 
 or  badness  of  human  actions  in  this  world. 
 
 The  moment  Dante  passes  the  gate  of  Hell,  he  enters  a  place  full  of 
 strange  and  horrible  sounds,  groans,  cries,  and  maimed  accents  of  grief. 
 
492  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 The  dark  air  is  swept  by  a  mighty  rushing  wind,  like  the  Sahara  in  a 
 hurricane.  Here  are  the  miserable  souls  of  those  who  lived  in  the  world 
 without  blame  and  without  praise,  who  did  neither  good  nor  ill  in  life. 
 Here  are  the  angels  who  took  no  part  in  tlie  great  struggle  between  God 
 and  Lucifer,  which  stood  aside  in  their  own  neutrality.  They  are  rejected 
 both  by  Heaven  and  Hell.  They  have  no  hope  of  death,  their  blind  life 
 is  so  degraded  that  they  are  envious  of  the  lot  of  all  the  rest. 
 
 "  Fama  di  loro  il  mondo  csser  non  lassa, 
 .Misericurdia  e  i;iii>ti/.ia  ijli  sdegna, 
 Non  ragionam  di  lor  ma  j^uaida  e  passa." 
 
 "  Xo  fame  of  these  the  world  suffers  to  be, 
 
 Mercy  and  justice  spurn  tliem  from  tlieir  side, 
 Take  no  account  of  then* — gaze  and  pass  on." 
 
 How  withering  the  scorn  !  Dante  was  bound  by  his  faith  to  punish 
 them  as  he  had  been  taught  that  they  are  punished.  But  he  has  his  own 
 standard.  Better  far  the  noble  mind  to  suffer  anything,  the  burning  marl, 
 tiie  flakes  of  fire,  or  the  pressure  of  thick-ribbed  ice,  than  to  be  borne  for 
 ever  in  the  ceaseless  storm  of  wavering  purpose,  despised  alike  by  God 
 and  devils.  Two  vices  Dante  hates  with  a  supreme  hatred — cowardice 
 and  treachery.  The  dark  waste  of  the  Vigliacchi  is  almost  a  worse  abode 
 than  the  mouths  of  Lucifer.  The  first  circle  of  Hell  is  Limbo,  a  place 
 of  far  less  torment  ;  it  contains  the  souls  of  infants  wlio  have  died  too 
 young  to  commit  sin,  and  unbelievers  wlio  have  guided  their  actions  only 
 by  the  light  of  conscience.  They  have  no  definite  punishment,  they 
 wail  not,  but  only  sigh.  Their  only  pain  is  to  live  ever  in  desire  without 
 hope.  Indeed,  many  might  envy  the  noble  companionship  of  the  souls 
 that  dwell  there.  As  Vergil  approaches,  a  voice  is  heard,  "  Onorate, 
 raltissimo  poeta  !  '  and  four  mighty  shades  advance  to  do  him  honour. 
 These  are  Homer,  Horace,  Ovid,  and  Lucan.  Vergil  joins  their  company, 
 Vergil,  whose  cry  soars  above  them  like  an  eagle.  A  little  farther  down, 
 in  a  luminous  spot,  stands  a  noble  castle,  girt  with  sevenfold  walls  and 
 encircled  by  a  beautiful  river.  Seven  gates  give  access  to  the  castle 
 court.  The  seven  walls  are  the  seven  virtues,  and  the  seven  gates  are  the 
 seven  sciences.  Here  dwell  the  great  ones  of  olden  time  :  Hector,  /Eneas, 
 and  the  great  Cajsar,  with  his  eagle  eyes ;  and  Saladin  seated  apart  by 
 himself.  There  is  Aristotle,  the  master  of  those  who  know  ;  all  admire 
 him  and  all  do  him  honour ;  Socrates  and  Plato  are  seated  by  his  side  ; 
 Democritus  and  Dioscorides  ;  Orpheus,  Cicero,  and  Seneca;  Euclid  and 
 I'tolcmy  ;  Avicenna  and  Averroes.  The  enthusiasm  of  the  true  Dante 
 breaks  forth  in  this  description.  He  must  have  thought  it  no  evil  fate  to 
 be  one  of  this  chosen  company.  Although  it  is  part  of  Hell,  it  is  better 
 than  many  parts  of  Heaven. 
 
 In  the  ne.xt  four  circles  are  punished  sins  of  incontinence  or  want  of  self- 
 control,  each  form  of  it  being  stamped  as  worse  as  we  proceed  downward. 
 First  and  least  guilty  are  those  who  have  sinneil  through  excess  of  love. 
 Dante  is  always  tender  to  sins  of  this  nature.     The  teaching  of  the  Church, 
 
THE  RE  I. IG  ION  QE  DAXTE.  493 
 
 which  i)laces  sexual  purity  above  all  other  virtues,  and  regards  it  as  the 
 keystone  of  the  good  life,  excusing  all  other  excesses  of  the  soul  if  it  be 
 sound  in  this,  finds  no  response  in  Dante's  judgment.  Here  are  Seniiramis, 
 Dido  and  Cleopatra,  Helen  of  Troy  and  Achilles,  Paris  and  Tristran. 
 Here,  too,  is  Francesca  da  Rimini,  who  died  by  her  husband's  hand  for  the 
 slip  of  one  unguarded  moment.  Amply  has  this  cruel  vengeance  been 
 redressed  by  Dante's  undying  song.  Worse  than  these  offenders  are  the 
 gluttons,  drenched  by  the  eternal,  cursed,  cold,  and  heavy  rain  ;  the  misers 
 and  the  spendthrifts,  both  equally  culpable,  throwing  huge  weights  in 
 ceaseless  rivalry  from  one  to  the  other  ;  and  worse  still  are  the  wrathful 
 and  the  melancholy — the  first  tearing  each  other  to  pieces,  and  the  second 
 buried  for  ever  in  the  black  mud  of  the  hateful  Styx.  After  want  of  self- 
 control  comes  what  Dante  calls  bestiality,  punished  in  the  sixth  circle — 
 the  predominance  of  the  material  above  the  spiritual  elements  in  man,  the 
 failure  to  recognise  the  highest  destinies  of  the  individual  and  the  race. 
 Dante  tells  us  in  the  Convito :  '-Among  all  bestialities,  that  is  most 
 stupid,  inert,  vile  and  most  hurtful,  by  which  any  believes  after  this  life  no 
 other  life  to  be."  Here,  then,  we  find  infidels  and  heretics.  They  are 
 placed  inside  the  city  of  Dis,  a  cemetery  fortified  with  turrets  and  walls, 
 garrisoned  by  demons,  and  guarded  by  fiends.  Inside  are  tombs  heated 
 red-hot  by  creeping  flames,  open  now,  but  to  be  closed  at  the  Day  of  Judg- 
 ment. Even  here  are  noble  characters.  The  great  Emperor  Frederick  H., 
 and  Farinata  degli  Uberto,  the  chivalrous  patriot  of  Florence,  who,  when 
 as  Ghibelline  leader  he  had  defeated  the  Guelphs  at  Montaperti  and  had 
 so  returned  from  banishment,  withstood  his  enraged  companions  who 
 would  have  destroyed  the  city  of  their  birth. 
 
 AVorse  than  the  two  offences  of  incontinence  and  materialism  is  Malizia, 
 the  pure  desire  of  evil,  which  affects  men  in  different  ways,  and  from 
 which  all  other  sins  proceed.  This  desire  of  evil  works  either  by  open 
 violence  or  by  secret  fraud,  and  the  second  is  the  worse  of  the  two.  The 
 seventh  circle  contains  the  three  categories  of  the  violent :  those  who  have 
 done  violence  to  other  men,  to  themselves,  or  to  God.  The  circle  of  the 
 violent  is  guarded  by  Phlegethon,  the  river  of  burning  blood.  In  this 
 river  lie  the  tyrants,  the  murderers,  and  the  marauders,  drowned  in  the 
 blood  for  which  they  thirsted  in  life,  each  immersed  more  deeply  accord- 
 ing to  the  depth  of  his  wickedness.  The  suicides  form  a  dolorous  wood, 
 pathless  and  impenetrable,  the  trees  with  knotted  and  twisted  boughs,  and 
 dusky  leaves  bearing  thorns  which  drop  poison.  The  birds  are  harpies 
 which  feed  upon  the  trees  and  echo  the  groans  which  come  from  them. 
 Thus  have  those  who  deprived  themselves  of  life  changed  their  animal  to 
 a  vegetable  body,  nor  at  the  Day  of  Judgment  will  they  resume  the  human 
 form  of  which  they  deprived  themselves,  but  it  will  be  hung  on  a  branch, 
 just  as  St.  Bartholomew  in  INIilan  Cathedral  carries  his  skin  upon  his  arm. 
 Round  the  wood  are  those  who  from  malice  have  wasted  and  destroyed 
 their   property,    now   chased   in  nakedness,  hunted  and   rent   by  demon 
 
494  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 hands.  Dante  thus  adopts  as  the  measure  of  sin,  not  its  outward  form,  but 
 its  inward  motive.  The  spendthrifts  from  incontinence  were  placed  in  a 
 higher  circle,  and  were  doomed  to  a  less  bitter  punishment.  These 
 wasters  of  their  substance  sinned  through  deliberate  malice,  and  from 
 want  of  self-control.  On  a  scorched  and  scorching  mud,  ramed  upon  by 
 flakes  of  fire,  a  region  which  Dante  and  his  guide  do  not  dare  to  tread,  lie 
 the  blasphemous  on  their  backs,  among  them  the  rebel  Capaneus.  Here 
 also,  punished  for  another  crime,  is  Brunetto  Latini,  Dante's  master. 
 Neitlier  the  gravity  of  his  oftence  nor  the  severity  of  punishment  prevents 
 Dante  from  treating  him  with  affection  and  respect.  Conjoined  with- 
 these,  strangely  enough,  are  the  usurers,  esteemed  as  breakers  of  a  law 
 of  God  in  nature. 
 
 Between  the  violent  and  the  fraudulent  is  a  deep  chasm,  down  which 
 the  fiery  blood  of  Phlegethon  falls  in  a  cascade.  Geryon— a  monster,  as  I 
 have  said,  with  face  of  man  and  trail  of  serpent — conducts  tlie  travellers 
 down  this  abyss  :  a  type  and  embodiment  of  fraud.  It  is  characteristic 
 of  Dante's  temper  that  so  large  a  space  of  Hell  is  given  to  the  punishment 
 of  fraud,  and  that  it  is  deemed  by  him  as  the  blackest  of  crimes.  Still 
 there  are  gradations  in  fraud  itself  We  may  deceive  those  who  have  no 
 special  ground  for  trusting  us,  or  we  may  prove  traitors  to  our  kinsmen,  our 
 country,  or  our  benefactors.  Between  these  two  classes  of  fraud  a  great 
 gulf  is  fixed.  Simple  fraud  is  punished  in  the  ten  fosses  of  Malebolge.  In 
 the  first  are  seducers  of  women,  Dante,  as  we  have  shown  above,  showing 
 a  certain  tenderness  to  offences  inspired  by  love  ;  next  to  them  come 
 the  flatterers,  and  then  the  simoniacs,  who  have  bartered  spiritual  gifts 
 for  gain,  a  specini  place  being  devoted  to  simoniacal  popes.  Diviners,' 
 sorcerers,  and  witches  occupy  the  fourth  fosse,  the  heads  twisted 
 round  upon  their  necks,  so  tliat  tlicy  look  always  backward  instead  of 
 forward.  Next  to  them  come  the  barterers  who  have  sold  justice  and 
 offices.  Then  follow  the  hypocrites,  clad  in  heavy  leaden  cloaks  and 
 hoods,  gilt  outside  with  glittering  gold.  Tlien  follow  in  their  several 
 appointed  places,  thieves,  evil  counsellors,  and  breeders  of  discord.  Last 
 of  all  are  falsifiers,  divided  into  several  categories,  as  falsifiers  of  substance, 
 semblance,  and  facts.  The  first  are  alchemists  and  coiners,  the  second 
 those  who  have  assumed  the  person  of  another  for  an  evil  end,  the  last 
 malicious  liars.  The  final  or  ninth  circle  of  Hell  contains  the  traitors  as 
 we  have  already  described  them.  Here  is  found  the  well-known  form 
 of  Count  Ugolino  della  Gherardesca  as  he  gnaws  at  the  head  of  his 
 treacherous  friend,  Archl)ishoi)  Ruggieri  of  Pisa.  The  story  of  Ugolino 
 was  for  a  long  time,  with  that  of  Krancesca  da  Rimini,  the  best-known 
 episode  of  Dante,  and  was  regarded  as  the  most  characteristic  type 
 of  his  genius,  the  softer  and  more  striking  beauties  of  the  Purgatory  and 
 the  Paradise  being  left  unregarded. 
 
 Such  is  Dante's  conception  of  the  actions  of  the  world.     Most  vile  and 
 despicable  are  the  weak  creatures  wlio  can  scarcely  be   said  to  live  at  all, 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  DANTE.  495 
 
 most  infamous  and  most  deeply  damned  is  ungrateful  treachery.  Culpable, 
 yet  excusable,  is  want  of  self-control,  most  excusable  that  want  of  self- 
 control  which  comes  from  excess  of  love.  Strong  is  the  division  between 
 sins  of  weakness  and  sins  of  malice,  those  which  spring  from  weaknesses 
 of  will  to  do  what  is  right,  and  those  which  are  inspired  by  the  will  to  do 
 what  is  wrong. 
 
 We  have  lingered  so  long  over  this  part  of  Dante's  creed  that  we  have 
 little  space  left  for  the  description  of  his  fliith.     He  believes  the  teaching 
 of  the  Church  of  his  time.     Bold  and  soaring  as  his  spirit  is,  he  is   not 
 unorthodox.     Purgatory,  that  vague  region  of  theological  speculation,  so 
 difficult  to  realize  or  to  believe  in,  is   represented   by  Dante  with  vivid 
 distinctness.     On   the  terraces  of  the  mountain  are  punished   the  seven 
 cardinal   sins.      The   mountain   itself  is   within  the   sphere   of  fire  ;   its 
 basement  of  craggy  rock,  rising  from  the  sea,  is  in  the  sphere  of  air,  and 
 contains  souls  who  are  waiting  to  cleanse  themselves  upon  the  holy  hill. 
 Here,  too,  the  crimes  are  classified  by  the  touchstone  of  Love.     Pride, 
 envy,  and  anger  spring  from  love  distorted  ;   sloth  (Accidia),  from  love 
 defective  ;    avarice,    gluttony,    and    lasciviousness    from    love    excessive. 
 Here,  too,  as  in  the  Hell,  lust   is  placed  nearest  to  the  earthly  Paradise. 
 The    connection    in    Dante's   mind    between   love   and    knowledge,    and 
 between  that  again  and  faith,  is  shown  in  the  beautiful  chapter  which 
 closes  the  Vita  Niwva,  the  story  of  his  love  for  Beatrice.     He  tells  how, 
 some  time  after  her  death,  it  was  given  to  him  to  behold  a  beautiful  vision, 
 in  which  he  saw  things  which  determined  him  to  say  nothing  further  of  this 
 blessed  lady  until  such  time  as  he  could  discourse  more  worthily  of  her  ; 
 "  and  to  this   end,"  he  continues,  "  I  labour  all  I  can,  as  she  in  truth 
 knoweth.     Therefore  if  it  be  His  pleasure,  through  whom  is  the  life  of  all 
 things,  that  my  life  continue  for  a  few  years,  it  is  my  hope  that  I  shall  yet 
 write  concerning   her  that   which  hath    not  before  been   written  of  any 
 woman.     After  the  which  may  it  seem  good  unto  Him  who  is  the  Master 
 of  Grace  that  my  spirit  may  go  hence  to  behold  the  glory  of  its   lady, 
 to  wit  of  that  blessed   Beatrice,  who  now  gloriously  gazes  on  the  coun- 
 tenance of  Him,  qui  est  per  omnia  seen  la  benedidus,  who  is  blessed  for  ever 
 and  ever."     Thus  the  love  of  Beatrice  leads  to  the  desire  of  knowledge, 
 knowledge  in  its  turn  leads  to  faith. 
 
 I  must  now  conclude  with  a  few  words  about  the  general  aspects  of 
 Dante's  teaching.  Dante  may  be  said  to  have  concentrated  in  himself 
 the  spirit  of  the  middle  ages.  Whatever  there  was  of  piety,  of  philosophy, 
 of  poetry,  of  love,  of  nature,  of  art,  and  of  knowledge,  in  those  times,  is 
 sublimated  to  a  quintessence  in  his  writings.  His  is  the  first  great  name 
 in  literature  after  the  night  of  the  dark  ages.  The  Italian  language,  in  all 
 its  purity  and  sweetness,  in  its  aptitude  for  the  tenderness  of  love,  for  the 
 violence  of  passion,  or  for  the  clearness  of  philosophical  argument,  sprang 
 fully  grown  and  fully  armed  from  his  brain.  The  Vita  Nuova  is  still  the 
 best  introduction  to  the  study  of  the  Tuscan  tongue.     The  astronomy  and 
 
496  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 science  of  the  Divina  Commcdia  are  obscure  when  we  translate  tliem,  but 
 in  their  original  diction  arc  as  clear  as  crystal.  The  reputation  of  Dante 
 has  passed  through  many  vicissitudes.  Read  and  commented  upon 
 in  Italian  Universities  in  the  generation  immediately  succeeding  his 
 death  his  name  became  obscured  as  the  suh  of  the  renascence  rose  higher 
 towards  its  meridian.  In  the  seventeenth  century  he  was  less  read  than 
 Petrarch,  Tasso,  or  Ariosto  ;  in  the  eighteenth  century  he  was  almost 
 universally  neglected.  Nothing  is  more  strange  than  the  indifference  of 
 Goethe  for  Dante,  as  shown  in  the  writings  and  conversations  of  his  later 
 years.  His  fame  is  now  fully  vindicated.  Translations  and  commentaries 
 teem  from  the  presses  of  Europe  and  America.  Societies  are  formed  to 
 investigate  the  difficulties  of  his  works.  He  occupies  in  the  lecture-rooms 
 of  regenerated  Italy  a  place  by  the  side  of  those  masters  whose  humble 
 disciple  he  avowed  himself  to  be. 
 
 The  Divine  Comedy  is,  indeed,  as  true  an  epic  as  the  .•^Cneid,  and 
 Dante  is  as  real  a  classic  as  Vergil.  His  metre  is  as  pliable  and  flexible 
 to  every  mood  of  emotion,  his  distress  is  as  plaintive  and  as  sonorous. 
 Like  Vergil,  he  could  immortalize  by  a  single  epithet  a  person  or  place  or 
 a  phase  of  nature.  Dante  is  indeed  a  better  observer  and  a  more  faithful 
 (lescriber  of  nature  than  Vergil,  whether  he  is  painting  the  falling  of  snow 
 in  the  high  Alps,  or  the  homeward  flight  of  birds,  or  the  swelling  of  an 
 angry  torrent.  But  under  the  gorgeous  pageantry  of  poetic  description  there 
 lies  an  unity  of  conception,  a  power  of  philosophic  grasp,  an  earnestness 
 of  religion,  which  are  entirely  unknown  to  the  Roman  poet.  Dante  is  too 
 essentially  a  Christian  to  be  fitly  compared  with  a  pagan  poet. 
 
 More  striking  is  the  similarity  between  Dante  and  our  own  Milton. 
 Yet  it  lies  rather  in  the  kindred  nature  of  their  subjects  and  in  the  parallel 
 development  of  their  minds,  than  in  any  mere  external  resemblance.  In 
 both  the  man  was  greater  than  the  poet;  the  soul  of  each  was  "like  a  star 
 and  dwelt  apart."  Both  were  academically  trained  in  the  deepest  studies 
 of  their  age.  The  labours  which  made  Dante  lean  made  Milton  blind. 
 The  "  Doricke  sweetnesse  "  of  the  English  poet  is  not  absent  from  the 
 tender  pages  of  the  Vita  Niiova.  Better,  perhaps,  it  would  have  been  for 
 Milton  if,  like  Dante,  he  had  known  in  youth  an  absorbing  passion.  The 
 middle  life  of  each  was  spent  in  active  controversy  ;  each  lent  his  services 
 to  the  State  ;  each  felt  the  quarrels  of  his  age  to  be  "  the  business  of 
 posterity,"  and  left  his  warnings  to  ring  in  the  ears  of  a  later  time.  The 
 lives  of  both  were  failures.  "  On  evil  days  though  fallen,  and  evil  tongues," 
 they  gathered  the  concentrated  experiences  of  their  lives  into  one  im- 
 mortal work — the  quintessence  of  their  hopes,  their  knowledge,  and  their 
 sufferings. 
 
 But  Dante  is  something  more  than  this.  Milton's  voice  has  grown  faint 
 to  us ;  we  have  passed  into  other  modes  of  exi)erience  and  of  thought. 
 If  we  had  to  select  two  names  in  literature  of  men  who  arc  still  exercising 
 their  full  influence  on  mankind,  and  whose  teaching  is  thus  developing 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  DANTE.  497 
 
 new  sides  to  coming  generations,  we  should  choose  the  names  of  Dante 
 and  Goethe.  Goethe  preached  a  new  gospel  to  the  world,  the  pagan 
 virtue  of  self-culture,  a  sympathy  with  every  form  of  human  feeling,  which 
 declines  to  judge  and  which  often  passes  into  indifference.  There  is  no 
 department  of  modern  literature  or  thought  which  does  not  bear  upon  it 
 the  traces  of  the  sage  of  Weimar.  But  if  we  rebel  against  this  teaching  and 
 yearn  once  more  for  the  ardour  of  belief,  the  fervour  of  self-sacrifice,  the 
 scorn  of  scorn  and  the'hate  of  hate  which  is  the  meed  of  the  coward  and  the 
 traitor,  where  shall  we  find  them  but  in  the  pages  of  the  Florentine  ?  The 
 religion  of  the  future,  if  it  be  founded  on  faith,  will  demand  that  faith  be 
 reconciled  with  all  that  the  mind  can  apprehend  of  knowledge,  or  the 
 heart  experience  of  emotion.  The  saints  of  these  days  will  be  trained, 
 not  so  much  on  the  ascetic  counsels  of  the  Imitation  of  Christ,  or  on 
 thoughts  which,  like  those  of  Pascal,  base  man's  greatness  in  the  con- 
 sciousness of  his  fall,  as  in  the  verse  of  the  poet,  theologian,  and 
 philosopher,  who  is  placed  by  Raphael  with  equal  right  among  the 
 conclave  of  the  doctors  and  on  the  slope  of  Parnassus,  in  whom  the 
 ardour  of  study  is  one  with  the  love  of  Beatrice — while  both  were  made 
 subservient  to  that  burning  zeal  which  lifts  the  soul  from  the  abyss  of 
 Hell,  up  the  terraces  of  Purgator)',  to  the  spheres  of  Paradise,  till  it  gazes 
 on  the  ineffixble  revelation  of  the  existence  of  God  Himself,  which  can 
 only  be  apprehended  by  the  eye  of  faith. 
 
 VOL.    I.— pt.  2.  L  L 
 
49S 
 
 OLD  CATHOLICISM. 
 
 By   the   Riiv.    R.    S.    Oldham,    M.A., 
 Rector  of  Little  Chart,  Kent. 
 
 I  WISH  to  say  a  few  words  by  way  of  Preface. 
 
 It  seems  to  me  that,  from  the  Christian  standpoint,  which  is  of  course 
 emphatically  my  own,  there  is  a  special  value  in  such  a  conspectus  of  the 
 religious  systems  of  the  world   as  your  Committee  have  sought  to  put 
 before  us.     For,  starting  from  the  conviction  that  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of 
 Cod    is   ''the   True  Light  ivhich  lighteth  every  man   that  conieth  into  the 
 "world'''  (St.  John  i.  9),  we  can  thus  see  more  readily  how  that  Light  has 
 shone  upon  various  peoples  and  various  individuals  in  all  ages.     As  we 
 read  of  the  276  persons  who  were  on  board  the  ship  which  was  conveying 
 St.  Paul  to   Rome,  but  was  wrecked  off  the  island  of  Malta,  that  while 
 some  swam  ashore,  "  the  rest,  some  on  boards,  and  some  on  broken  pieces 
 of  the  ship,"  "  escaped  all  safe  to  land,"  so  we  may  recognise  as  made 
 available  for  the  moral   salvation  of  the  most  diverse  persons  in  every 
 ])art  of  the  world,  fragments  of  the   Divine  Truth  which   is  centered  in 
 Christ.     St.  Paul  himself  would  certainly  have  done  so.     He  knew  inti- 
 mately the  heathendom  of  his  day,  and  he  told  the  heathen  of  Athens  that 
 he  came  to  make  known  to  them  the  will  of  God  whom  they  already 
 ignorantly  worshi[)ped.     We  have  only  to  bear  in  mind  that  Christ  is  not 
 the  less  the  Redeemer  of  all  mankind,  because  the  larger  portion  of  them 
 have  no  present  knowledge  of  Him.     If  they  live  up  to  such  Light  as  has 
 been  granted  to  them.    His   redemption  will   avail   for   tlieir    salvation. 
 And  they  may  come   to  know  this  clearly  enough  when  they  pass   into 
 another  world. 
 
 Then,  further,  it  is  assuredly  a  wise  provision  you  have  made,  in  arrang- 
 ing that  all  Lectures  designed  to  explain  or  illustrate  religious  systems, 
 past  and  present,  should  be  delivered  by  those  who  write  from  a  sympa- 
 thetic point  of  view.  It  is  only  common  fairness,  that  any  system  should 
 address  itself  to  us  through  the  voice  of  a  friend.  Criticism  may  come 
 later,  and  be  useful  enough  then.  Put  what  is  to  be  criticized  should  he 
 the  presentment  of  one  who  has  himself  felt  the  attraction  of  the  system, 
 whatever  it  may  be.  If  there  be  Truth  in  it,  it  is  well  that  that  Truth 
 should  be  arrayed  in  its  fairest  dress;  and,  if  there  be  error,  there  will 
 be  the  more  merit  in  refuting  it  when  presented  at  its  best. 
 
 Coming  now  to  the  subject  of  my  own  Lecture  here  this  afternoon,  it 
 might  i)crhai)s  be  thought  by  some  persons  a  matter  for  surprise  that  it 
 should  liave  been  included  in  your  programme.  For  Old  Catholicism  is 
 not  a  philosophy,  appealing  to  the  intellect,  or  fascinating  the  imagination 
 
OLD  CATHOLICISM.  499 
 
 and  in  either  case  all  the  more  seductive  because — as  happens  with 
 philosophies — making  but  small  demands  upon  the  outward  life  and  con- 
 duct. Nor  is  it  anything  novel.  It  is  not  attractive  as  solving  moral  or 
 spiritual  problems  in  new  and  startling  ways.  Its  very  name  warns  us  oft" 
 from  any  expectations  of  that  kind.  And,  once  more,  there  is  nothing 
 dazzling  about  it.  It  has  not  taken  the  world  by  storm,  or  swept  large 
 multitudes  along  with  it.  The  Old  Catholics  number  at  present  only 
 about  120,000  or  130,000. 
 
 And  yet  I  am  persuaded  that  your  Committee  exercised  a  wise  dis- 
 cretion— or,  it  may  be,  were  guided  by  a  sound  instinct — in  regarding  Old 
 Cathoh'rism  as  deserving  their  attention.  For  on  the  future  Church  life  of 
 Europe  it  can  hardly  fail  to  have  an  important  influence.  Unless  the 
 universal  belief  that  we  are  at  present  passing  through  a  period  of  transition 
 be  an  erroneous  one,  there  will  be  much  resettled  by-and-by  in  European 
 ecclesiastical  aftairs.  And  in  any  such  resettlement  the  principles  for 
 which  the  Old  Catholics  are  contending  will  certainly  make  themselves 
 heard. 
 
 In  the  year  1870,  a  thrill  of  indignation  went  through  the  Continent 
 of  Europe  at  the  result  of  the  Vatican  Council,  held  under  the  presidency 
 of  Pope  Pius  IX.  It  was  felt  most  strongly  in  Roman  Catholic  countries, 
 where  the  pressure  of  the  new  dogma  of  the  personal  infallibility  of  the 
 Pope  would  naturally  be  greatest.  And  as  the  terms  in  which  the  dogma 
 was  promulgated  are  by  no  means  commonly  known  in  England,  it  is 
 perhaps  well  that  I  should  quote  them. 
 
 "  If,  therefore,  any  one  says  that  the  Roman  Pontiff  possesses  only  the 
 office  of  Inspection  or  Direction,  but  not  the  full  and  highest  power  of  Juris- 
 diction over  the  Universal  Church,  not  only  in  things  pertaining  to  faith 
 and  morals,  but  also  in  those  pertaining  to  the  discipline  and  government 
 of  the  Church  spread  over  the  whole  world ;  or  that  he  has  only  the  more 
 important  share,  but  not  the  fulness  of  tliis  highest  power ;  or  that  such 
 his  power  is  not  an  ordinary  and  immediate  one,  as  well  over  all  and 
 several  Churches  as  over  all  and  several  pastors  and  faithful,  let  him  be 
 anathema." 
 
 And  again  :  "We  therefore,  faithfully  adhering  to  the  tradition  of  the 
 Christian  Faith  from  the  beginning,  with  the  approval  of  the  Council, 
 to  the  glory  of  God  our  Saviour,  and  in  the  interests  of  the  Catholic 
 religion  and  the  welfare  of  Christian  peoples,  teach  and  define  as  a 
 dogma  Divinely  revealed,  that  when  the  Roman  Pontiff  speaks  ex  cathedra, 
 i.e.,  when  in  the  exercise  of  his  office  as  the  Pastor  and  Doctor  of  all 
 Christians,  through  his  supreme  apostolic  authority,  he  defines  the  teach- 
 ing which  is  to  be  received  by  the  Universal  Church  regarding  faith  or 
 morals,  then,  by  virtue  of  the  Divine  assistance  promised  to  him  in  St. 
 Peter,  he  is  invested  with  the  infallibility  with  which  it  was  the  will  of  the 
 Divine  Redeemer  that  His  Church  should  be  endowed,  in  the  definition 
 .of  doctrine  touching  faith  and  morals ;  and  that  therefore  such  definitions 
 
500  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  the  Roman  Pontiff  are  unalterable  in  themselves,  and  not  by  consent 
 of  the  Church."     (Chapters  iii.  and  iv.) 
 
 Thoughtful  men  saw  at  once  to  what  serious  consequences  this  por- 
 tentous dogma  must  lead.  In  large  numbers  of  towns — more  especially 
 in  Germany  and  Austria — public  meetings  were  held.  Resolutions  and 
 protests  against  it  were  passed.  Even  Governments  were  roused.  It 
 seemed  likely  for  a  time  that  national  Catholic  churches,  independent  oi 
 Rome — like  that  of  England  in  the  i6th  century — would  be  established. 
 
 All  this,  however,  passed  away,  for  which  there  were  two  causes.  First, 
 the  great  Franco-German  War  broke  out  in  that  very  year,  1870,  and 
 pre-occupied  the  Governments  that  were  most  concerned  ;  and,  second, 
 the  Catholic  bishops  of  Germany  and  Austria,  all  the  more  distinguished 
 of  whom  had  strongly  opposed  the  new  dogma,  both  before  and  during 
 the  Council,  not  only,  without  exception,  submitted  to  it  themselves,  but 
 enforced  it  with  the  greatest  severity  on  others. 
 
 It  seemed  therefore  as  though  the  triumph  of  the  Jesuit  party,  which 
 had  brought  about  the  promulgation  of  the  dogma,  were  complete. 
 
 But  there  was  a  not  inconsiderable  body  of  priests  and  laymen  who 
 could  not  reconcile  it  to  their  conscience  to  accept  as  a  Divinely-revealed 
 truth  what  they  had  satisfied  themselves  was  radically  false.  It  happened 
 that  the  Catholic  theological  faculty  in  Germany  at  the  time  included  an 
 unusual  number  of  Professors  distinguished  alike  for  their  learning  and 
 their  piety.  DoUinger,  Reusch,  Reinkens,  IMichelis,  Knoodt,  Friedrich, 
 were  great  names  ;  and  the  first  of  them  was  a  man  so  renowned  as  an 
 ecclesiastical  historian,  so  lofty  in  his  aims,  and  so  courageous  in  character, 
 that  he  seemed  marked  out  at  once  as  a  leader,  in  whatever  course  they 
 might  adopt.  After  much  consultation,  all  these  and  many  others — • 
 notably  the  layman,  von  Schulte,  the  eminent  Professor  of  Law  at  Bonn — 
 resolved  at  all  costs  to  refuse  assent  to  the  dogma.  In  a  document  that 
 has  now  itself  become  historical,  Dollinger  declared  :  "  As  a  Christian,  as 
 a  theologian,  as  an  historian,  as  a  citizen,  I  cannot  accept  this  teaching. 
 As  a  Christian  ;  for  it  is  irreconcilable  with  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  and 
 with  the  clearest  utterances  of  Christ  and  the  Ai)0Stles  ;  it  seeks  to  establish 
 the  very  kingdom  of  this  world  which  Christ  refused,  and  to  set  up  the 
 rule  over  the  faithful  which  Peter  forbade  for  himself  and  all  others.  As 
 a  theologian  ;  for  the  entire  genuine  tradition  of  the  Church  is  al\solutely 
 opposed  to  it.  As  an  historian  ;  for,  as  such,  I  know  that  the  persistent 
 endeavour  to  realize  this  theory  of  a  universal  dominion  has  cost  Europe 
 streams  of  blood,  has  disturbed  and  lowered  whole  nations,  has  over- 
 thrown the  best  organizations  of  the  early  Church,  and  has  produced,  and 
 nourished,  and  maintained  in  the  Church  the  most  grievous  abuses. 
 Lastly,  as  a  citizen  ;  I  must  reject  it,  because  with  its  demand  for  the 
 submission  of  States  and  monarchs,  and  the  whole  political  order  to  the 
 pai)al  power,  and  by  the  false  position  which  it  claims  for  the  clergy,  it 
 lays  the  foundation  of  endless  ruinous  strifes  between  State  and  Church, 
 
OLD   CATHOLICISM.  501 
 
 between  clergy  and  laity.  For  I  cannot  conceal  from  myself  that  this 
 teaching,  the  results  of  which  destroyed  the  old  German  Empire,  if  it 
 came  to  prevail  in  the  Catholic  portion  of  the  German  nation,  would  at 
 once  sow  the  seeds  of  incurable  disease  in  the  newly-founded  Empire 
 also." 
 
 Tliis  noble  utterance  came  to  be  virtually  adopted  as  the  manifesto  of 
 all  the  Old  Catholics  on  the  subject  of  the  Vatican  decrees,  not  in  Ger- 
 many only,  but  also  in  Austria,  Switzerland,  and  France.  The  die  was 
 cast.  The  threatened  excommunication  speedily  followed,  and  included, 
 besides  the  German  leaders,  the  Austrian  Pfarrer  Cech,  the  Swiss  Pro- 
 fessor Herzog,  and  Pfarrer  G'schwind,  and  the  French  Pere  Hyacinthe 
 (M.  Loyson),  and  the  Abbe'  Michaud. 
 
 It  has  often  been  made  a  matter  of  reproach  to  the  Church  of  England 
 that  she  failed  to  retain  within  her  fold  John  and  Charles  Wesley  in  one 
 age,  and  John  Henry  Newman  in  another  ;  and  the  comment  has  only  too 
 often  been  added,  that  the  Church  of  Rome  would  have  known  how  to 
 utilize  their  services.  The  comment  at  least  is  an  unfair  one.  At  this  time 
 the  Church  of  Rome  lost  her  greatest  writer,  DoUinger,  and  her  greatest 
 speaker,  Pere  Hyacinthe,  to  say  nothing  of  the  many  other  distinguished 
 men  whom  she  drove  out  along  with  them. 
 
 But  all  was  not  done  when  these  brave  men  had  defined  their  attitude 
 towards  the  new  Ultramontanism.  The  more  important  task  remained  of 
 exhibiting  to  the  world  their  steadfast  adherence  to  the  Old  Catholic  Faith 
 of  Christendom.  With  this  object,  in  September,  187 1,  a  Congress  was 
 held  at  Munich,  attended  by  more  than  800  delegates,  at  which  the 
 following  programme  was  formally  adopted  :  "  The  retention  of  the  old 
 Catholic  faith;  assertion  of  rights  as  Catholics;  rejection  of  the  new 
 dogmas  ;  retention  of  the  constitution  of  the  ancient  Church,  with  omission 
 of  such  declarations  of  the  faith  as  were  not  in  harmony  with  the  actual 
 belief  of  the  Church ;  reform  of  the  Church,  with  such  co-operation  of  the 
 laity  as  was  consistent  with  its  constitution  ;  efforts  towards  the  reunion 
 of  Christian  confessions ;  reform  of  the  training  and  position  of  the 
 clergy  ;  allegiance  to  the  State,  in  opposition  to  the  attacks  of  Ultra- 
 montanism;  rejection  of  the  Jesuits;  solemn  protest  in  favour  of  claims 
 as  Catholics  upon  the  endowments  of  the  Church." 
 
 It  was  natural  that,  in  adopting  a  course  so  strikingly  similar  to  that 
 pursued  by  the  English  Reformers  in  the  i6th  century,  the  Old  Catholics 
 (as  they  had  already  come  to  be  called)  should  enlist  the  lively  sym- 
 pathies of  Anglican  churchmen,  both  in  England  and  America.  And, 
 accordingly,  when,  in  1872,  a  great  Congress  was  held  at  Koln,  it  was 
 attended  by  two  of  the  most  distinguished  of  the  English  bishops.  Dr. 
 Christopher  W^ordsworth,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  and  Dr.  Harold  Browne, 
 then  Bishop  of  Ely,  afterwards  of  Winchester,  by  the  Bishop  of  Maryland, 
 in  the  United  States,  Dr.  Wittingham,  Dean  Stanley  of  W^estminster,  and 
 many  other  clergy  fi-om  England  and  America.     Having  been   present 
 
502  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 there  (by  invitation)  myself,   I  can  testify  to  tlie  great  seriousness  and 
 deep  religious  earnestness  wiiich  prevailed  throughout. 
 
 JJy  tiiis  time  congregations  had  been  formed  in  various  places  \  and  the 
 most  important  (question  which  had  to  be  decided  was,  whether  they 
 should  take  steps  at  once  for  the  election  of  a  bishop.  This  was  decided 
 in  the  affirmative.  In  the  course  of  the  next  year  the  clergy  and  lay 
 delegates,  after  a  solemn  service  at  Koln,  elected  as  bishop  the  Rev. 
 Josejih  Hubert  Reinkens,  Professor  of  Theology  at  Breslau,  who  was  con- 
 secrated at  Rotterdam  on  the  nth  of  August. 
 
 It  was  of  course  essential,  if  the  Old  Catholics  were  to  be  recognised 
 as  forming  a  Catholic  Church  in  Europe,  that  they  should  obtain  for  their 
 Episcopate  an  undoubted  and  unchallenged  succession.  And  this  they 
 did  obtain  from  the  Old  Catholic  Church  of  Holland. 
 
 I  should  detain  you  too  long  if  I  entered  into  any  details  regarding  the 
 unique  history  (so  little  known)  of  this  Church.  All  that  is  necessary  for 
 our  present  purpose  is,  to  recall  the  fact  that  for  the  last  iSo  years  it 
 has  maintained  its  independence  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  the  Archbishop 
 of  Utrecht  and  the  Bishops  of  Haarlem  and  Dcventer  still  occupying  the . 
 ancient  sees. 
 
 Consecrated,  then,  at  Rotterdam,  Bishop  Reinkens  entered  on  his  oftice. 
 He  was  recognised  as  a  Catholic  Bishop  by  the  Governments  of  Prussia, 
 Baden,  and  Hesse ;  and  a  Parliamentary  grant  has  ever  since  been 
 made  to  him  of  the  modest  sum  of  ;^i,20o  a  year.  He  has  under  his 
 charge  fifty  clergy,  all  of  whom  are  engaged  in  active  pastoral  work, 
 besides  eight  others  not  holding  any  cures.  Last  month  he  celebrated 
 his  seventieth  birthday,  amid  the  demonstrations  of  the  unbounded  love 
 and  veneration  of  his  people.  And  what  outsiders  think  of  him  we  may 
 learn  from  the  words  of  the  distinguished  Protestant  Professor,  Dr. 
 Beyschlag,  who  wrote  thus  of  him  lately :  "  If  one  may  judge  of  a  com- 
 munity by  its  leader,  freely  chosen  by  themselves,  then  there  must  be 
 something  Apostolic  in  Old  Catholicism  :  so  earnest  and  so  amiable,  so 
 strict  in  conscience,  so  liberal  in  spirit  does  this  man  appear,  devoted  with 
 so  much  self-forgetfulness  to  his  thorny  task,  ever  strengthening  and  en- 
 couraging others  by  his  faith,  which  only  grows  stronger  under  difficulties. 
 No  lord  over  the  people,  but  a  i)attern  to  the  tluck  ;  ready  for  the  con- 
 riict,  when  it  must  come,  and  a  doughty  champion  against  Rome,  yet 
 always  devoting  his  best  energies,  not  to  strife,  but  to  building  up,  iniie- 
 fatigable  in  his  official  duties,  which  entail  journeys  during  nearly  half  the 
 year,  that  he  may  confirm  the  young  people  of  his  congregations,  yet 
 linding  leisure  for  scientific  research — above  all,  a  man  of  piety,  of  clear 
 deptii  and  genial  warmth,  a  man  of  faith  and  love,  reminding  us  verily 
 of  those  venerable  figures  of  primitive  bishops  who,  of  old,  in  the  second 
 and  third  centuries,  represented  the  nascent  Church  in  the  midst  of  a 
 hostile  world."  Let  me  add,  tiiat  my  own  intimate  acquaintance  with 
 him  for  many  years  enables  me  to  declare  that  this  beautiful  picture  is 
 not  over-drawn. 
 
OLD   CATHOLICISM. 
 
 D^J 
 
 In  1876  the  number  of  Old  Catholic  or  (as  they  are  there  called) 
 Christian-Catholic  congregations  in  Switzerland  had  so  much  increased, 
 that  it  became  necessary  for  them  also  to  elect  a  bishop  ;  and  the  Swiss 
 were  no  less  happy  in  their  choice  of  Professor  Herzog,  who  was  conse- 
 crated by  Bishop  Reinkens,  at  Rheinfelden,  in  September  of  that  year. 
 He  is  a  younger  man,  full  of  life  and  fire,  and  marked  by  the  same 
 religious  earnestness.  He  has  fifty-seven  clergy  under  him,  by  whom,  as 
 by  all  the  laity,  he  is  very  highly  esteemed.  Of  Austria  tlie  record  is  a 
 very  different  one.  There  have  been  no  great  leaders  there,  and  yet 
 nowhere  have  the  principles  of  Old  Catholicism  been  more  tenaciously 
 held.  Pfarrer  Cech,  at  Vienna,  and  Piarrer  Nittel,  at  Warnsdorf,  are 
 models  of  laborious  parish  priests ;  and  in  Bohemia,  some  thousands  of 
 the  glass-workers,  whose  products  we  so  much  admire  in  our  drawing- 
 rooms,  are  enthusiastic  Old  Catholics.  But  they  are  much  kept  down  by 
 their  poverty.  They  are  not  able  to  provide  for  the  support  of  a  bishop 
 of  their  own,  and  the  Austrian  Government  will  not  allow  Bishop  Rein- 
 kens  or  any  other  bishop  to  visit  them,  even  to  hold  Confirmations. 
 
 In  all  these  three  countries — Germany,  Switzerland,  and  Austria — the 
 Munich  programme  has  been  strictly  adhered  to.  Whatever  was  primitive, 
 botli  as  to  doctrine  and  discipline,  was  retained.  The  ancient  creeds  of  the 
 Church  are  firmly  held  ;  the  old  liturgies  are  still  used,  though  revised  and 
 translated  into  the  vernacular.  Meanwhile,  reforms  were  quietly  but  effec- 
 tively carried  out.  The  compulsory  celibacy  of  the  clergy  was  abrogated, 
 and  many  of  their  priests  are  now  married.  Private  confession  was  made 
 voluntary.  Indulgences  were  abolished,  and  the  mediaeval  fires  of  Purga- 
 tory abandoned.  Prayers  for  the  departed  resumed  their  ancient  character. 
 An  incident  may  be  mentioned  which  will  illustrate  this.  After  the  con- 
 secration of  two  churches,  last  year — one  in  Germany,  and  the  other  in 
 Austria — the  first  service  the  next  day  was  a  commemorative  one,  asking 
 for  members  of  the  congregation  who  had  died  before  the  consecration 
 could  take  place,  Light  and  Refreshment  in  the  world  beyond.  Transub- 
 stantiation  is  no  longer  taught,  and  the  wine  as  well  as  the  bread  is  given 
 to  communicants  in  the  Lord's  Supper.  There  is  no  worship  of  the 
 Blessed  Virgin  Mary.  The  reading  of  the  Bible  is  encouraged,  and  much 
 care  is  taken  with  tlie  religious  instruction  of  the  young. 
 
 All  this  bears  (it  will  be  seen)  a  very  close  resemblance  to  the  course 
 pursued  by  the  English  Reformers  of  the  i6th  century.  And  the  Old 
 Catholics,  in  the  assertion  of  their  Catholicity  on  the  one  hand,  and  their 
 independence  of  Rome  on  the  other,  had  the  experience  of  the  Church  of 
 England  for  300  years  to  profit  by.  It  was  in  their  favour  also,  that  of  late 
 the  true  character  of  the  English  Church,  as  Catholic  without  being  Papal, 
 had  become  more  widely  known  on  the  Continent.  For  as  far  back  as  the 
 year  1S53  an  Association  had  been  formed  in  England  under  the  name  of 
 the  Anglo-Continental  Society,  the  object  of  which  was  to  spread  informa- 
 tion on  this  subject.     A  considerable  number  of  prominent  Churchmen  in 
 
504  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 England  and  America,  both  clergy  and  laity — among  whom  were  Bishop 
 Wilbcrforce,  of  Oxford,  Dr.  Moberly,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  Dr. 
 AVordsworth,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  Mr.  Keble,  Mr.  Gladstone,  Mr. 
 Beresford  Hope,  and  Mr.  Hubbard — had  become  painfully  aware,  not  only 
 of  the  ignorance  but  of  the  grievous  misrepresentation  of  the  principles 
 of  the  Anglican  Church  which  prevailed  in  Italy,  Spain,  Germany,  and 
 France,  where  at  the  same  time  a  widespread  dissatisfaction  with  the  grow- 
 ing Ultramontanism  of  the  Cliurch  of  Rome  was  known  to  exist.  They 
 felt  bound  to  do  what  they  could  to  meet  this  by  publishing,  in  the  principal 
 languages  of  Europe,  translations  of  standard  works,  such  as  Bishop 
 Cosin's  book  on  "  The  Faith,  Discipline,  and  Rites  of  the  English  Church," 
 as  well  as  original  pamphlets  and  tracts  on  the  English  Reformation.  The 
 result  was  a  much  better  acquaintance  with  the  whole  subject  among 
 studious  and  thoughtful  men  on  the  Continent,  by  the  time  the  great  crisis 
 of  1870  arose. 
 
 The  events  which  followed — culminating,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  found- 
 ing of  the  Old  Catholic  Churches — rightly  called  forth  an  active  sympathy 
 between  those  Churches  and  the  Churches  of  the  Anglican  Communion, 
 liishops  Reinkens  and  Herzog  have  been  welcomed  as  equals  by  English 
 prelates  at  Eambeth,  Farnham,  and  Cambridge  ;  acts  of  intercommunion 
 even  have  taken  place,  Anglican  and  Old  Catholic  bishops  and  priests 
 receiving  the  Holy  Communion  together  ;  brotherly  love  has  been  shown 
 in  the  shape  of  material  aid  for  special  needs.  And  above  all,  at  the 
 Lambeth  Conference  in  1888,  presided  over  by  the  present  Archbishop  of 
 Canterbury,  Resolutions  were  agreed  to  by  the  hundred  bishops  who  were 
 present,  which  gave  formal  and  authoritative  expression  to  Anglican  recog- 
 nition and  sympathy  in  every  part  of  the  world.  . 
 
 \\\  1889  an  event  happened  which  had  much  importance  for  Old  Catholi- 
 cism. A  Conference  was  held  at  Utrecht  between  the  five  Old  Catholic 
 bishops  of  Holland,  Germany,  and  Switzerland,  which  issued  in  a  strict 
 alliance,  based,  not  upon  a  rigid  uniformity,  but  only  agreement  in  essen- 
 tials. They  have  bound  themselves  to  act  together.  And  the  experiment 
 may  be  watched  with  much  interest,  because  the  genius  of  the  three 
 Churches  is  very  different.  The  Dutch  may  be  called  Ultra-conservative, 
 the  German,  Constitutional,  and  the  Swiss,  Liberal.^  And  if  they  succeed 
 in  working  together,  as  the  First  International  Old  Catholic  Congress  at 
 Koln  last  September  seemed  to  afford  much  i)rospect  of  their  doing,  they 
 may  show  the  way  to  larger  Churches  by-and-by. 
 
 This  points  indeed  to  a  direction  in  which  Old  Catholicism  may  yet 
 render  important  service  in  Christendom.  One  of  its  main  characteristics 
 is  a  strong  desire  to  i)romote  union  among  Christians.  Some  sixty  or 
 seventy  years  ago  the  Roman  Catliolic  writer  De  Maistre  declared  his 
 opinion,  that  if  ever  a  general  re-union  should  take  place  between  East  and 
 
 '  The  ,\uslrians  arc  aUo  virtually  included  in  the  compact,  though  (from  their  not 
 yet  having  a  bishop)  in  a  less  formal  way.     Their  tone  is  Liberal. 
 
OLD   CATHOLICISM.  505 
 
 West,  the  chief  intermediary  would  probably  be  the  Church  of  England. 
 Should  this  dream  ever  be  realized— and  who  shall  say  it  may  not  be,  for 
 do  not  even  dreams  sometimes  come  true  ? — the  Old  Catholics  will  certainly 
 contribute  something  to  it.  Sprung  themselves  from  the  very  bosom  of 
 the  Church  of  Rome,  having  already  won  warm  approval  from  the 
 Russian  Orthodox  Church,  enjoying  the  friendship  of  the  Anglican 
 Churches,  and  treated  with  brotherly  regard  by  a  large  proportion  of  the 
 Protestants  of  Germany  and  Austria,  they  seem  likely  to  have  special 
 oj)portunitics  of  promoting  reconciliation,  of  which  they  will  be  forward  to 
 avail  themselves.  As  an  illustration  of  the  position  they  occupy  in  this 
 way,  the  fact  may  be  mentioned,  that  the  German  Evangelical  Union,  with 
 a  membership  of  70,000  Protestants,  has  quite  lately  sought  friendly 
 relations  with  the  Anglo-Continental  Society  on  the  very  ground  of  a 
 common  sympathy  with  the  Old  Catholics. 
 
 Put  there  are  other  principles  also  embodied  in  Old  Catholicism,  which 
 entitle  it  to  our  consideration  and  respect. 
 
 I.  It  is  the  noblest  stand  for  the  supremacy  of  Conscience  that  has  been 
 made  during  the  present  century.  And  for  that  alone  the  Old  Catholics 
 have  deserved  the  thanks  of  the  whole  civilized  world.  Few  people  in  this 
 country  know  the  sacrifices  they  have  made  and  the  endurance  they  have 
 shown.  But  for  myself  I  can  speak  of  these  things  as  an  eye-witness.  For 
 not  only  am  I  personally  acquainted  with  nearly  all  their  leaders,  but  in 
 Germany,  Switzerland,  and  Austria  I  have  come  often  into  contact  with 
 large  numbers  of  them.  And  I  know  through  what  bitter  trials  they 
 have  passed,  and  in  truth  are  often  called  to  pass  still.  Nothing  but  the 
 spiritual  power  which  fidelity  to  conscience  gives  men,  could  have  brought 
 them  through  what  they  have  had  to  suffer.  The  following  is  the  inde- 
 pendent testimony  of  the  same  Protestant  Professor,  Dr.  Beyschlag,  whom 
 I  cjuotcd  before  :  "  Every  intrigue,  every  social  and  moral  annoyance  and 
 boycotting,  every  irritation  in  life  and  in  death  even,  they  have  had  to 
 bear  from  their  Ultramontane  opponents,  to  such  an  extent,  that,  apart 
 from  the  shedding  of  blood,  which  our  laws  in  the  present  day  forbid,  it 
 has  been  a  true  martyrdom."  And  another  Protestant  wrote  lately,  "  The 
 history  of  Old  Catholicism,  so  far,  is  the  history  of  the  martyrdom  of  a  small 
 but  noble  band  of  confessors  of  the  first  and  true  Catholicism — a  martyrdom 
 which,  as  always  in  history,  will  be  the  seed  of  great  deeds  in  the  world's 
 history,  when  only  the  time  shall  be  ripe."  •  That  this  last  prediction  may 
 be  fulfilled  is  made  the  more  hopeful  by  the  remarkable  patience  with 
 which  all  their  persecution  has  been  borne.  For  I  can  testify  that  they 
 have  followed  in  the  footsteps  of  their  Divine  Master,  "  Who,  7uhen  He 
 was  reviled,  reviled  not  again ;  when  He  suffered,  He  threatened  not,  but 
 committed  Himself  to  Him  ivho  judgeth  righteously'''' {\  Peter  ii.  13).  We 
 may  well  believe  that  their  discipline  of  suffering  is   preparing  them  for 
 
 *   Ceraer  Zdtung,  Feb.,  1S91. 
 
5o6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 higher  things.    And  meanwhile  their  splendid  vindication  of  the  supremacy 
 of  Conscience  must  do  good  to  the  world. 
 
 2.  Another  essential  principle  of  Old  Catholicism  is  the  recognition  of 
 Divine  authority,  as  given  direcdy  to  the  State  as  well  as  to  the  Church. 
 One  of  the  most  dangerous  doctrines  of  Ultramontanism  is,  that  the  Church 
 has  a  right  to  control  the  State,  and  that  the  Pope  may  rightly  interfere  in 
 matters  of  national  social  life,  by  virtue  of  some  supreme  authority  divinely 
 given  to  him.  The  Old  Catholics  reject  this  view.  It  is  not,  they  say,  in 
 accordance  with  the  teaching  and  practice  of  the  primitive  Church.  We 
 know  they  are  right.  St.  Paul  would  certainly  have  repudiated  any  such 
 Papal  claim.  When  he  wrote  that  ''■the  powers  that  be  are  ordained  of 
 God"  he  was  referring  to  State  authorities.  The  point  is,  that  their  com- 
 mission comes  to  them  direct  from  God  Himself.  We  are  familiar  with 
 the  recognition  of  this  by  all  Protestant  Churches  ;  but  the  recognition  of 
 it  by  the  Old  Catholics,  as  coming  from  the  Catholic  side,  has  a  value  of 
 its  own.  The  Old  Catholics,  in  other  words,  build  their  patriotism  on  a 
 religious  basis ;  and,  as  time  goes  on,  that  too  may  bear  good  fruit. 
 
 3.  A  third  feature  in  Old  Catholicism  must  also  attract  our  sympathy  as 
 Englishmen.  They  have  no  quarrel  with  modern  civilization.  Tiie 
 Vatican  has  over  and  over  again  declared  that  to  be  evil  ;  a  stereotyped 
 Mediaivalism  is  to  be  maintained.  13ut  the  Old  Catholics  teach  very 
 differently.  They  welcome  scientific  research.  They  are  not  afraid  that 
 science  and  revelation  can  ever  ultimately  be  in  disagreement.  And  they 
 feel,  as  we  in  England  do,  that  the  task  of  the  Christian  Church  is  to  meet 
 the  needs  of  our  own  time,  and,  if  occasion  call  for  it,  by  methods  of  our 
 own  time.  Not  to  enslave  men  and  tie  them  down  to  a  mere  mechanical 
 observance  of  outward  forms,  but  to  build  them  up,  as  free  men  and 
 women,  in  the  fellowship  of  Christ,  is  their  great  object.  They  value,  as 
 the  Church  of  England  does,  the  historic  continuity  of  the  Christian 
 Church — its  accredited  Episcopate,  its  ancient  creeds  and  liturgies,  its 
 sacraments  and  worship — as  means  to  an  end,  that  end  being  to  draw  all 
 men  together  in  the  faith  of  a  common  Redeemer,  rejoicing  in  the  love  of 
 Clod,  and  living  in  the  ])ractice  of  that  self-sacrificing  love  of  their  neigh- 
 bour which  Christ  taught. 
 
 Once  more,  there  is  this  also  in  Old  Catholicism  as  a  religious  system, 
 to  interest  us  all, — and  having  perhaps  a  special  significance  for  the 
 Church  of  England,— that  it  has  adopted  with  great  boldness  the  principle 
 of  giving  a  large  share  of  power  to  the  laity.  The  Old  Catholic  bishops 
 (excluding  Holland)  are  elected  by  the  joint  votes  of  the  clergy  and  of  the 
 lay  representatives.  Even  the  parish  clergy  are  elected  by  the  congregations. 
 And  all  legislation  lies  with  the  Synod,  which  is  composed  of  clergy  and 
 laity,  under  the  presidency  of  the  bishop.  It  need  hardly  be  said  that  this, 
 among  Continental  Catholics,  is  a  great  innovation.  Ikit  it  cannot  be 
 denied  that  there  is  authority  for  it  in  the  early  ages  of  the  Church.  And 
 so  far  the  system  has  worked  well — as  it  has  done  also  in  our  own  colonies 
 
OLD   CATHOIJCISM. 
 
 2^, 
 
 — and  without  any  real  diminution  of  Episcopal  authority.  There  is  some 
 importance  in  this  for  ourselves.  Beyond  doubt,  there  can  be  no  really 
 vigorous  life  in  any  Church,  in  the  affairs  of  which  the  laity  do  not  take  an 
 active  share.  And  although  the  varying  circumstances  of  different  Churches 
 must  largely  affect  the  extent  and  character  of  that  share,  the  experience  of 
 the  Old  Catholics  may  have  a  special  value  for  some  of  us  at  home. 
 
 One  thing  must  be  added.  I  have  spoken  this  afternoon  only  of  those 
 Old  Catholics  who  belong  to  duly-constituted  Churches  in  Holland, 
 Germany,  Switzerland,  and  Austria.  But  there  are  besides  some  consider- 
 able bodies  who  either  have  reformed  or  are  engaged  in  reforming  them- 
 selves on  the  same  lines  in  other  countries  also.  In  Spain  there  are  eight 
 congregations,  who  have  Seiior  Cabrera  as  their  bishop-elect;  there  are  five 
 others  in  Portugal ;  the  zealous  labours  of  Count  Henry  di  Campello  have 
 led  to  the  formation  of  two  in  Italy ;  and  M.  Loyson  (better  known  in  this 
 country  as  the  Pcre  Hyacinthe)  is  at  the  head  of  one  in  Paris.  It  must 
 farther  be  noted,  that  in  addition  to  those  who  have  had  the  courage  to 
 declare  themselves  Old  Catholics,  there  are  tens  of  thousands  who  secretly 
 sympathize  with  them. 
 
 The  truth  is,  that  for  generations  past  there  has  been  a  very  widespread 
 desire  for  suljstantial  reforms  among  the  Roman  Catholics  of  Europe.  The 
 Vatican  decrees  brought  on  a  crisis;  and  tlie  importance  of  Old  Catholicism 
 lies  in  this,  that  it  has  provided  the  permanent  means  and  opportunities, 
 which  were  wanting  before,  for  leavening  large  masses  of  the  population  in 
 various  countries,  and  thus  paving  the  way  for  far  greater  results  hereafter. 
 
 All  who  value  the  supremacy  of  conscience,  all  who  care  for  religious 
 liberty,  all  who  feel  a  strict  truthfulness  to  be  the  first  element  of  Christian 
 morals — still  more,  all  who  believe  in  the  Divine  mission  of  Christ's  One 
 Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church,  and  who,  because  they  do  so,  are  jealous 
 for  its  purity  and  eager  to  cleanse  it  from  superstition  and  from  worldliness, 
 that  it  may  be  fit  to  deliver  worthily  its  loving  message  to  mankind — must 
 assuredly  wish  the  Old  Catholics  God  speed. 
 
 We  are  passing  through  a  period  of  transition  ;  and  if  what  we  desire 
 should  be  the  outcome  of  it,  is  not  mere  change  but  betterment;  above  all, 
 if  our  longing  is  that,  in  a  degree  we  have  not  reached  yet,  the  Law  ot 
 Force  should  be  replaced  by  the  Law  of  Love,  as  in  all  things,  so  most  of 
 all  in  Religion — then  we  shall  welcome  whatever  "makes  for  Righteousness," 
 in  religious  teaching  and  religious  life.  And  this,  I  am  convinced,  is  true 
 of  Old  Catholicism. 
 
5o8 
 
 THE    CHURCH    OF    ENGLAND. 
 
 By  Rev.  H.  C.  Shuttleworth,  M.A., 
 
 Eector  of  St.  Nicholas'  Cole,  Abbey,  and  Professor  of  Pastoral  Theology  in 
 
 King's  College,  London. 
 
 The  Church  of  England,  it  is  sometimes  said,  with  a  certain  tone  of  con- 
 tempt, is  a  compromise.  The  old  and  inaccurate  epigram  about  her 
 Arminian  liturgy  and  Calvinistic  articles  is  recalled.  The  fact  is  accen- 
 tuated, that  three  well-defined  schools  of  thought  may  be  traced  among  both 
 clergy  and  laity,  shading  away  into  a  great  variety  of  intermediate  opinions. 
 Accordingly,  it  is  often  declared,  that  only  the  golden  links  of  Establish- 
 ment prevent  the  Church  of  England  from  falling  to  pieces,  and  that,  as 
 Dr.  Momerie  has  lately  announced  to  admiring  drawing-rooms,  she  is  within 
 measurable  distance  of  dissolution. 
 
 There  is  at  least  so  much  of  truth  in  the  "  compromise  "  theory,  that  the 
 statesmen  and  ecclesiastics  who  guided  the  course  of  the  English  Reforma- 
 tion fell  back,  perhaps  to  some  extent  unconsciously,  upon  the  idea  of  a 
 national  Church  as  an  autonomous  portion  of  the  universal  or  catholic 
 Church.  The  conception  was  that  of  a  universal  human  society,  founded 
 by  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  conditioned  by  national  character  and  adapted 
 to  national  needs  ;  each  national  Church  retaining  large  powers  of  self- 
 government,  and  owning  no  allegiance  to  any  personal,  visible  head,  or  to 
 any  supreme  authority  on  earth,  save  and  except  that  of  the  universal 
 society  itself,  expressed  and  uttered  through  a  General  Council.  The  com- 
 parison may  perhaps  be  ventured  to  a  world-confederacy  of  states,  each 
 state  possessing  a  large  measure  of  independence,  but  owning  allegiance  to 
 a  federal  constitution. 
 
 The  task  of  the  English  Church  was  to  vindicate  the  independence  of 
 national  Churches,  and  to  define  its  limits.  The  relations  of  a  national 
 Cluirch  to  the  universal  society,  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  the  nation  itself, 
 on  the  otlier,  were  the  practical  ])roblems  to  be  solved.  The  former  was 
 dealt  with  by  repudiating  the  claims  of  the  Papacy  to  absolute  dominion 
 over  the  universal  society,  and  by  accepting  the  authority  of  these  General 
 Councils,  which  were  admitted  to  express  the  sense  of  the  undivided 
 Church.  Cranmcr's  famous  appeal  to  a  General  Council  was  the  voice  of 
 the  English  Church.  Tlie  creeds,  the  two  great  sacraments,  the  canon  of 
 Scripture,  the  "  historic  episcopate,"  these  were  the  propert}',  so  to  speak, 
 of  the  whole  Church,  and  with  them  the  Church  of  England  could  not 
 
THE   CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  509 
 
 meddle.  There  were  other  matters  with  which,  she  judged,  a  national 
 Church  was  thoroughly  competent  to  deal.  Her  own  forms  of  w'orsliip 
 and  methods  of  internal  government,  for  example,  while  following  the 
 general  type,  might  and  should  be  arranged  by  herself.  Her  own  officers 
 should  be  appointed  as  she  herself  might  approve,  without  external  inter- 
 ference. It  was  attempted  to  solve  the  second  problem  by  the  help  of  a 
 principle  which  really  underlay  the  whole  movement  of  the  Reformation. 
 The  power  which  undermined  the  medireval  Papacy  was  the  growth  of  the 
 national  consciousness.  Men  had  come  to  perceive  that  the  nation  itself 
 was  a  Divine  organization.  They  realized  the  sanctity  of  the  State.  They 
 felt  that  the  nation's  own  language,  the  "vulgar  tongue,"  was  the  most 
 fitting  vehicle  for  the  utterance  of  the  people's  highest  thoughts  and  deepest 
 feelings.  They  regarded  it  as  one  of  a  nation's  most  sacred  rights  and 
 supreme  duties  to  provide  for  the  worship  and  religious  teaching  of  the 
 people.  Hence  followed  the  theory  of  Hooker,  restated  in  more  recent 
 days  by  Arnold,  that  Church  and  State  are  not  two  societies,  but  the  nation 
 itself  under  different  aspects.  Every  Englishman,  as  such,  was  potentially 
 an  English  Churchman. 
 
 It  cannot  be  said  that  Hooker's  theory  has  borne  the  test  of  three  cen- 
 turies. It  has  been  broken  against  the  logic  of  events.  But  it  does  not 
 follow  that,  because  this  particular  view  cannot  now  be  maintained,  there 
 is  nothing  which  survives  in  that  general  idea  of  a  national  Church  which 
 found  expression  at  the  Reformation,  but  which  can,  in  fact,  be  traced  up 
 to  a  far  earlier  period.  ^  If  Church  and  State  in  England  are  two  societies, 
 and  not  one,  .history  has  yet  bound  them  so  intimately  . together,  that 
 to  separate  them  will  be  a  task  of  stupendous  difficulty.  The  Church  of 
 England,  then,  represents  not  a  compromise,  but  a  principle,  apart  from 
 Hooker's  so  called  "  Erastian  "  theory.  Has  this  principle  endured  the 
 test  whicli  has  shattered  tlie  theory  ?  In  other  words,  is  there  room,  in 
 the  England  of  to-day,  for  a  national  Church?  And  if  so,  how  far  does 
 the  Establishment  fulfil  the  necessary  conditions  ? 
 
 It  may  conduce  to  clearness  to  state  at  this  point  that  the  present  writer 
 regards  the  universal  Church  as  consisting,  ///  idea,  of  the  whole  of  huma- 
 nity ;  in  fact,  of  a  society  of  persons  called  out  to  witness  to  man's  true 
 condition  in  God.  Just  so,  the  Church  of  England  consists,  in  idea,  of 
 tlie  whole  English  people  :  in  fact,  of  baptized  Englishmen  and  English- 
 women, The  external  rite  of  baptism  is  (among  other  things)  the  method 
 of  admission  to  the  Church ;  and  it  is  to  be  observed  that  it  is  given  to 
 infants,  who  can  have  neither  correct  opinions  nor  pious  feelings  of  any 
 kind.  To  be  a  man  is,  implicitly,  to  be  a  Churchman  ;  and  the  promises 
 of  the  baptismal  service — to  give  up  the  evil,  to  believe  the  true,  to  follow 
 the  right — amount  to  an  undertaking  to  be  a  true  man.  On  this  under- 
 taking the  Church  gives  baptism  to  every  child  ;  and  formerly  gave  con- 
 firmation and  communion  (as  still  in  the  Eastern  Churches)  at  the  same 
 time  and  on  the  same  terms.     This  indicates  a  marked  difference  between 
 
5IO  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  Church's  bond  of  membership  and  that  of  some  other  rehgious  bodies. 
 Tlie  holding  of  common  opinions,  the  experience  of  common  emotion,  are 
 not  the  fundamental  facts  of  union  in  the  Church.  She  does  not  profess 
 to  be  a  religious  aristocracy,  consisting  of  all  the  wise  or  all  the  good.  She 
 is  catholic,  belonging  to  all  mankind ;  and  her  sacrament  of  admission  to 
 membership  is  bestowed  upon  any  unconscious  child  who  may  be  brought 
 to  her  fonts,  simply  because  it  is  a  human  being. 
 
 The  principle  of  a  national  Church  is  widely  regarded  as  utterly  out 
 of  harmony  with  the  tone  and  tendency  of  our  age,  and  Disestablishment 
 is  now  well  within  the  horizon  of  practical  politics.  It  may  however  be 
 questioned  whether  the  assumption  upon  which  the  proposed  de-national- 
 ization of  the  Church  rests,  is  not  itself  out  of  harmony  with  modern 
 thought  and  feeling.  That  principle  I  take  to  be,  that  the  State,  as  such, 
 has  nothing  to  do  with  religion.  It  may  not  be  set  forward  quite  so 
 fiercely  as  by  those  earlier  Liberationists  who  contended  that  the  State 
 was  "  the  world,"  with  which  the  Church  could  rightly  have  no  relations. 
 But  it  seems  to  be  the  natural  and  inevitable  conclusion  from  the  premises 
 of  the  old  Liberal  party  in  England,  who  were  associated  with  the  j\Ian- 
 chester  School.  They  held  as  their  fundamental  doctrine,  that  the  State 
 should  interfere  as  little  as  possible.  A  free  State,  as  they  conceived  it, 
 was  one  in  which  the  government  imposed  the  fewest  duties  on  the  citizens, 
 and  left  things  generally  alone  to  work  themselves  out.  A  free  Church,  in 
 their  view,  was  one  altogether  self-governed.  It  naturally  followed,  that 
 the  very  idea  of  Establishment  was  repugnant  to  them ;  and  Disestablish- 
 ment, as  a  plank  in  the  political  platform,  is  a  survival  of  the  old  within 
 the  new  Liberalism.  Yet  the  new  Liberalism  is  far  from  holding  the 
 essential  "  worldliness  "  of  the  State ;  still  farther  from  accepting  the  non- 
 interference doctrines  of  the  Manchester  School.  On  the  contrary,  the 
 English  democracy  of  to-day  calls  in  the  State  at  every  turn.  We  are 
 practically  agreed,  pace  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  and  Mr.  Auberon  Herbert, 
 that  the  State  ought  to  provide  means  for  the  well-being  and  elevation 
 of  all  her  children.  Free  libraries,  free  education,  public  recreation 
 grounds,  provision  for  public  health, — all  these  are  now  recognised  as  the 
 care  of  the  State.  Then  why  not  free  religion? — not  in  the  sense  of  the 
 Manchester  School,  but  in  the  modern  sense  which  gives  a  wider  scope  to 
 the  word  freedom.  Only  a  certain  section  of  atheists  will  contend  that 
 religion  is  the  highest  and  most  necessary  of  all  means  to  the  well-being 
 of  a  people.  Alexander  Vinct,  the  great  Swiss  Liberationist,  consistently 
 opposed  the  principle  of  Establishment  on  the  ground  that  it  was  a 
 fundamentally  socialistic  principle.  "The  individualism  which  Vinet 
 preached,"  says  the  Rev.  T.  Hancock,  "  as  the  road  to  social  salvation, 
 and  ui)on  which  every  sectarian  'Church'  is  founded,  is  rejected  and 
 hated  by  the  newer  Zci/i^dst  as  the  road  to  social  damnation."  Mr. 
 Hancock  also  points  out  that  the  two  "most  democratic  States  in  the 
 world,"  Zurich  and  Geneva,  have  each  recently  affirmed,  by  the  vote  of 
 
THE   CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  511 
 
 the  entire  people,  that  the  principle  of  Establishment  is  a  grand  essentially 
 democratic  principle. 
 
 It  would  seem,  then,  that  the  idea  of  a  national  Church  has  still  some 
 vitality.  It  is  not  so  dead  as  yesterday  its  enemies  imagined.  That 
 which  is  really  dead  is  the  principle]  of  State  non-interference,  upon  which 
 the  policy  of  Disestablishment  was  founded.  And  it  will  be  difficult  to 
 show,  in  the  face  of  democratic  Switzerland  and  republican  France,  that 
 the  most  i)rogressive  countries  of  modern  Europe  are  opposed  to  the 
 principle  of  Establishment.  It  will  be  even  more  difficult  to  prove  that 
 the  conditions  in  England  are  so  different  from  those  of  France  and 
 Switzerland,  that  we  must  adopt  a  course  which  they  decisively  reject. 
 
 It  appears,  then,  that  we  cannot  rightly  assume,  without  much  deeper 
 investigation,  that  the  theory  of  a  national  Church  is  out  of  harmony 
 with  the  democratic  feeling  of  to-day. 
 
 An  institution  which  has  grown  up  with  the  nation,  intertwined  with 
 and  embedded  in  her  whole  histor)',  as  is  the  case  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
 land, has  undoubtedly  great  advantages]  over  similar  bodies.  When  it 
 is  asserted  that  the  Established  Church  is  a  "  privileged  "  body,  it  is  really 
 this  which  is  meant.  Her  close  association  with  the  State  has  not  been 
 effected  by  any  act  of  the  sovereign  or  of  the  legislature.  As  is  frequently 
 pointed  out,  no  Act  of  Parliament  exists  creating  an  establishment  of 
 religion  in  England.  It  grew,  it  was  not  made  ;  although,  inevitably,  its 
 growth  has  needed  and  has  received  recognition  and  adjustment  from  time 
 to  time,  at  the  hands  of  the  law  and  the  Parliament  of  England. 
 
 Upon  tlie  face  of  things,  this  "  historical  continuity  '"'  is  a  possession 
 beyond  all  price.  Few  will  now  be  found  to  repeat  the  old  fallacy 
 about  a  "new  Church  "  made  by  Henry  VIII.,  except  from  a  standpoint 
 which  is  not  that  of  the  best  modern  historians.  The  inheritance  of  a 
 great  past  is  a  fact  of  unalterable  power.  It  appeals  to  all  men  in  whom 
 the  imaginative  and  poetic  faculties  are  developed.  It  confers  a  majesty 
 which  nothing  else  can  give.  It  invests  even  an  unworthy  "  descendant 
 of  a  hundred  earls  "  \vith  a  certain  dignity  and  pathos,  born  of  the  con- 
 trast between  the  men  of  the  older  time,  whose  great  deeds  made  splendid 
 their  name,  and  the  degradation  of  him  who  has  defiled  it.  Nonconform- 
 ists are  swift  to  claim  their  share  in  the  history  of  the  Church  ;  and  they 
 claim  no  more  than  their  right.  But,  as  a  leading  Nonconformist  layman 
 lately  remarked  to  the  present  writer,  it  is  not  quite  the  same  thing  after 
 all.  He  added,  that  while  he  did  not  envy  the  Church  her  episcopal  form 
 of  government,  or  her  slow-moving  and  somewhat  rigid  legal  constitution, 
 he  "  admired  and  desired "  beyond  all  words  her  historical  basis  in  the 
 roots  of  the  realm  of  England. 
 
 But  inestimable  as  this  advantage  is,  and  great  as  is  the  reserve  of  latent 
 strength  to  which  it  points,  there  can  be  no  sort  of  doubt  that  not  a  few 
 minor  defects  and  disadvantages  are  involved  in  it.  There  is  almost  of 
 necessity  a  difficulty  in  adapting  the  methods  of  an  ancient  organization  so 
 
512  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WROLD. 
 
 as  to  meet  needs  wholly  new.  If  there  is  merit  in  not  moving  too  fast, 
 there  is  great  inconvenience  and  some  loss  in  being  hampered  at  every 
 turn  by  precedents  and  customs  and  red  tape.  There  is,  it  may  be,  a 
 certain  forfeiture  of  spontaneity  and  swiftness  ;  a  tendency  to  convention- 
 ality and  compromise,  a  peril  of  getting  out  of  touch  with  the  life  and 
 movement  of  the  world  of  men.  That  the  Church  of  England  suffers  to 
 some  extent  from  these  dcfaiits  de  notre  (jualite  cannot  be  denied.  Take 
 the  case  of  a  beneficed  clergyman,  who  unhappily  is  a  disgrace  to  his 
 ofiice.  Such  examples  are  few,  in  spite  of  the  keen  scent  of  certain 
 journals  for  "  clerical  scandals,"  and  their  vigorous  beating  of  the  drum 
 anti-ecclesiastic.  In  a  body  of  twenty-four  thousand  there  must  needs  be 
 a  certain  number  of  bad  men  and  of  foolish  men  ;  and  the  fierce  light 
 which  beats  upon  their  misdoings  from  the  red  lamp  of  personal  journalism 
 has  given  a  mistaken  impression  of  the  proportion  such  persons  bear  to 
 the  whole  body  of  the  clergy.  But,  however  few  they  may  be,  it  is  surely 
 obvious  that  a  drunken,  immoral,  or  thoroughly  idle  clergyman  ought  not 
 to  remain  pastor  of  a  parish  for  life.  Yet  the  difficulty  of  getting  rid  of 
 him  almost  amounts  to  impossibility.  The  bishop  can  scarcely  oust  him, 
 even  when  the  case  is  clear,  without  the  harass  of  infinite  trouble,  and  an 
 expenditure  which  is  said  to  run  into  thousands  of  pounds.  Repeated 
 attempts  have  been  made  to  abate  this  scandal,  but  without  conspicuous 
 success.  It  may  be  hoped  that  the  latest  effort  may  be  more  satisfactory 
 in  its  results. 
 
 The  independent  position  of  the  beneficed  clergy  illustrates  very  fairly 
 the  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  the  peculiar  position  of  the  Church 
 of  England.  It  is  an  undoubted  advantage  to  a  man  who  earnestly  de- 
 sires to  serve  his  Master,  and  help  his  fellow  men,  to  find  himself  secure 
 of  house  and  income,  able  to  snap  his  fingers  at  the  man  with  the  long 
 purse,  to  speak  the  truth  and  do  the  right  without  fear.  He  ministers  in 
 a  building  round  which  the  whole  parish  grew  uj),  hallowed  by  the  sacred 
 memories  of  centuries,  the  centre  of  the  corporate  life  of  the  place.  He 
 has  baptized  and  married  most  of  his  young  people  ;  he  blessed  their 
 fathers'  graves  in  the  churchyard  beneath  the  gray  tower  ;  he  has  known 
 them  all  in  every  relation  of  life.  The  parish  clergyman  can  be,  by  virtue 
 of  his  position,  and  he  very  often  is,  the  link  bet\veen  class  and  class,  the 
 builder  of  bridges— /^/////t-v  maxiinus^  as  a  witty  bishop  said — over  gulfs 
 fixed  between  man  and  man. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  his  settled  position  has  its  temptations  and  perils 
 for  himself,  and  its  disadvantages  for  his  parishioners,  Too  often  he 
 becomes  fossilized  ;  in  the  country,  he  tends  to  develop,  as  Sydney  Smith 
 puts  it,  into  a  "  holy  vegetable."  His  position  brings  him  into  contact 
 with  the  rich  and  the  well-to-do ;  and  he  may  perhaps  come  to  look  at 
 life,  almost  unconsciously,  from  their  standpoint,  and  content  himself 
 with  merely  trying  to  "  do  good  "  to  the  poor,  instead  of  teaching  them  how 
 to  do  it  for  themselves.     His  methods  lack  variety,  and  he  himself  often 
 
77//;   CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND. 
 
 3'J 
 
 lacks  intellectual  companionship.  His  position  gives  him  considerable 
 power,  and  he  has  been  known  to  use  it  in  an  unwise  or  dictatorial  fashion. 
 IJut  whatever  he  may  be,  his  benefice  is  his  freehold;  and  he  cannot  be 
 ejected  from  it  except  by  a  cumbrous,  costly,  tedious  and  uncertain  pro- 
 cess. And  what  is  true  in  this  respect  is  true  also  in  others.  "  Legal 
 difficulties "  bar  the  way  of  movements  and  adaptations  admitted  to  be 
 desirable  ;  and  these  are  part  of  our  inheritance.  Not  so  long  ago,  it  was 
 necessary  to  get  a  special  Act  of  Parliament  in  order  to  build  a  new 
 church.  It  is  still  necessary  to  get  it  in  ortler  to  alter  a  rubric.  Clearly 
 the  Church  of  I'Lngland  suffers  certain  disadvantages  from  the  fact  of  her 
 position,  and  they  are  neither  few  nor  light.  But  they  are  a  part  of  the 
 price  paid  for  the  inestimable  possession  of  a  great  historical  position  ; 
 and  it  may  possibly  be  that  the  wiser  course  is  to  trust  that  friction  against 
 facts  will  gradually  wear  them  away. 
 
 The  organization  of  the  Ciiurch  of  England  closely  connects  itself  with 
 the  national  idea.  Mr.  J.  R.  Green  has  pointed  out  the  important  bearing 
 of  the  work  of  Archbishop  Theodore,  to  whom  the  work  of  organization 
 was,  in  the  first  instance,  due,  upon  the  consolidation  of  the  realm  of  Eng- 
 land. The  principle  of  local  government  finds  expression  in  the  parish, 
 the  "local  organ"'  both  of  Church  and  nation.  The  parishes  are  grouped 
 in  dioceses,  each  under  its  own  bishop,  the  limit  'of  whose  jurisdiction 
 seems  at  first  to  have  roughly  corresponded  to  the  tribal  partitions  of  the 
 country,  a  division  which  has  in  some  cases  lasted  almost  to  our  own 
 time.  The  dioceses,  again,  are  organized  under  one  of  the  two  metro- 
 politans of  England,  and  belong  either  to  the  province  of  Canterbury  or  to 
 the  province  of  York.  This  plan  of  local  organization  at  once  marks  a 
 difference  between  the  Church  of  England  clergyman  and  ministers  of 
 other  denominations.  He  is  the  pastor  of  a  parish;  they  of  their  own 
 congregations.  JIc  ministers  to  a  congregation  which  God  has  already 
 called  into  the  fellowship  of  neighbourhood  and  common  life ;  they 
 minister  to  congregations  called  together  by  mutual  agreement  in  religious 
 opinion,  or  by  common  spiritual  feeling  and  experience ;  or,  it  may  be,  by 
 the  attractiveness  of  the  pastor's  teaching  or  methods.  Every  parishioner 
 has  the  right  to  the  ministrations  of  the  parish  clergyman,  as  he  has  the 
 right  to  a  place  in  the  parish  church.  The  rubrics  of  the  Book  of  Common 
 Prayer  do  not  speak  of  members  of  a  congregation  in  our  modern  sense, 
 but  in  the  sense  of  parishioners.  The  parish  is  the  local  "congregation  of 
 the  Lord."  The  persistence  of  this  older  idea  is  seen  in  the  fact  that  a  con- 
 siderable number  of  persons,  who  do  not  usually  attend  the  ministrations 
 of  the  Church  of  England,  prefer  to  seek  them  at  the  more  important 
 turning-points  of  life,  as  for  marriages,  burials,  and  baptisms.  The  parish 
 vestry  is  a  survival  of  perhaps  the  oldest  form  of  public  assembly,  and  it 
 is  still  not  infrequently  held  in  the  parish  church  (as  were  the  City  Ward- 
 motes until  very  recent  times)  in  order  to  discuss  and  determine  local 
 matters,  civil  and  ecclesiastical. 
 
 VOL.    I. — pt.   2.  MM 
 
514  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 This  ancient  constitution  of  the  English  Church,  with  its  deep  roots  in 
 the  national  and  local  life,  is  a  source  of  some  weakness  and  friction  in  so 
 far  as  the  Aicts  have  ceased  to  correspond  with  the  idea.  The  endeavour 
 to  adapt  an  old  organization  to  new  needs  must  always  involve  some 
 anomalies,  and  give  rise  to  practical  difficulties.  It  may  be  questioned 
 whether  even  a  successful  attempt  to  tear  out  roots  by  means  of  Disestab- 
 lishment would  altogether  set  us  free  from  them.  But  it  can  scarcely  be 
 doubted  that  the  possession  of  so  efficient  and  ancient  an  organization  is 
 a  source  of  far  greater  strength  than  weakness  to  the  Church.  She  will 
 not  lightly  let  it  go,  even  if  disestablishment  should  make  its  retention,  in 
 remote  country  districts  and  elsewhere,  a  matter  of  supreme  difficulty.  It 
 may  then  be  necessary  to  revert  for  a  time,  to  the  pre-reformation  plan  of 
 working  from  a  centre,  in  the  shape  of  a  large  community-house.  But  the 
 I)arochial  system,  with  all  its  practical  defects,  is  Air  too  great  a  heritage  to 
 be  easily  ])arted  with  ;  and  no  effort  will  be  considered  too  exacting  which 
 may  give  hope  of  maintaining  it. 
 
 It  is,  however,  certain  that  the  present  position  and  prospects  of  the 
 Church  of  England  will  be  judged  from  the  practical  point  of  view  charac- 
 teristic of  the  English  people.  Unlike  our  French  neighbours,  we  think 
 less  of  logical  consistency  than  of  practical  efficiency,  and  we  are  willing  to 
 tolerate  a  certain  lack  of  symmetry  about  our  Constitution,  and  to  put  up 
 with  anomalies  in  the  various  relations  of  our  national  life,  if  only  the 
 machine  "  works  well."  ^Vhether,  therefore,  the  immediate  question  regards 
 the  Engli.sh  Church  as  an  establishment,  in  view  of  its  possible  ceasing  to 
 be  such  ;  or  whether  it  simply  concerns  her  general  work  as  one  religious 
 body  among  others,  it  may  be  taken  for  granted  that  the  answer  will  be 
 determined  chiefly  upon  the  practical  work  she  has  done  or  is  doing. 
 
 It  must  be  observed  that  this  is  at  best  a  rough  and  superficial  test. 
 The  true  work  of  a  Church  is  to  purify  and  preserve  the  moral  tone  of 
 society,  as  "  leaven,"  or  as  "salt,"  mingling  with  "  the  whole  lump,"  which 
 It  affects;  and  to  train  and  uplift  the  inmost  character  of  individuals. 
 Obviously  no  human  test  can  be  ade(|uately  applied  to  influences  so  subtle, 
 so  impossible  of  analysis.  They  are  out  of  the  reach  of  figures  and 
 averages;  they  evade  all  attempts  to  state  or  estimate  results  in  the 
 ordinary  way.  Still,  without  forgetting  that  we  cannot  penetrate  into  this 
 region,  where  alone  the  final  results  are  to  be  found,  we  may  reach  certain 
 conclusions,  not  without  considerable  value  in  their  own  place,  from  a  brief 
 survey  of  liie  external  work  and  working  of  the  Church  of  England. 
 
 Although  she  is  sometimes  described  as  "the  wealthiest  Church  in 
 Christendom"  -a  title  which  needs  some  qualitication— the  amount  of 
 money  raised  during  the  last  fifty  years  for  Church  building  and  restora- 
 tion, and  for  annual  maintenance  of  church  work,  is,  even  from  that  point 
 of  view,  enormous.  The  uninviting  i)ages  of  the  "  Church  Year-Book  " 
 rontain  figures  which  will  startle  even  those  who  are  prepared  for  much. 
 Lord   Hampton's  well-known  return,  incomplete  though  it  was,  showed 
 
THE  CHURCH   OF  ENGLAND.  515 
 
 that  l)et\vcen  the  years  1840  and  1874  no  less  a  sum  than  ;!^25, 548,703 
 was  raised  for  building  and  restoring  cathedrals  and  churches.^  Six  mil- 
 lions, at  the  least,  were  raised  during  the  five  years  1883  to  1887,  for  the 
 same  ])urpose.  The  sums  collected  and  expended  upon  extending  and 
 developing  the  work  of  the  Church  in  the  large  towns  are  upon  the  same 
 gigantic  scale  ;  and  it  must  be  remembered  that  these  statements  take  no 
 account  of  moneys  spent  upon  Schools,  contributed  to  Foreign  Missions,  to 
 various  Church  Societies,  Theological  Colleges,  and  the  like  ;  or,  except 
 to  a  limited  extent,  of  annual  maintenance. 
 
 The  remarkable  development  of  lay  work  is  a  sign  both  of  a  pressing 
 need  and  of  the  richness  of  the  sources  of  supply.  The  Lay  Helpers' 
 Association  of  the  diocese  of  London  numbers  nearly  seven  thousand 
 men  ;  while  the  multiplication  of  guilds,  and  the  frequent  association  of 
 a  poor  London  parish  with  a  West-End  congregation,  point  to  the  fact  that 
 this  total  does  not  represent  anything  like  the  real  number  of  those  who 
 are  organized  for  all  kinds  of  work  under  the  clergy.  The  ministry  of 
 women  has  not  indeed  been  developed  along  the  lines  of  the  Salvation 
 Army.  Ikit  the  Anglican  Sisterhoods  and  nursing  institutions  are  among 
 the  most  noteworthy  growths  of  our  time  ;  and  even  these  are  exceeded 
 in  numbers,  though  not  in  self-devotion  and  spiritual  power,  by  the  vast 
 and  vigorous  organization  of  the  Girls'  Friendly  Society.  It  is  sufficient 
 merely  to  mention  the  various  Church  Temperance  and  Purity  Societies, 
 almost  all  of  them  born  but  yesterday  ;  and  to  point  to  the  yet  more 
 recent  upgrowth  of  societies  for  the  study  and  practical  application  of  the 
 bearing  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Church  upon  politics  and  social  problems. 
 
 The  clergy  may  be  thought  in  some  quarters  to  have  deteriorated  in 
 quality,  because  they  are  now  partly  recruited  from  a  lower  social  grade, 
 and  because  comparatively  few  of  them  take  honours  and  Fellowships  at 
 the  Universities,  or  become  eminent  in  science,  literature,  and  art.  The 
 former  reason  is  a  curious  one,  coming  as  it  generally  does  from  pro- 
 nounced democrats,  and  may  be  dismissed  as  of  small  importance  outside 
 the  drawing-rooms.  For  the  latter  there  is  assuredly  much  ground.  To 
 the  present  writer,  part  of.  whose  duty  it  is  to  train  candidates  for  the 
 ministry,  it  seems  as  incontrovertible  as  it  is  unfortunate  that  the  average 
 Anglican  clergy  are,  intellectually,  less  powerful  than  they  were  wont  to 
 be.  But  it  is  not  altogether  their  fault.  The  arrears  of  parochial  work, 
 the  burdens  of  detail  and  organization,  which  have  fallen  upon  them  in 
 our  time  are  so  appalling  that  they  may  well  be  pardoned  if  they  have 
 thought  more  of  doing  what  they  could  to  overtake  them  than  of  editing 
 
 '  The  writer  was  present,  a  few  years  since,  at  a  public  Conference  between  Churcli- 
 men  and  Nonconformists  held  in  the  City  Temple.  One  of  the  Cluirch  speakers  quoted 
 figures  from  this  return,  referring  to  the  amount  spent  upon  the  fabric  of  the  cathedrals. 
 The  audience,  consisting  mainly  of  Nonconformists,  greeted  the  statement  with  louil 
 cries  of  "  .Shame  !  '  Did  they  mean  that  the  Church  ought  not  to  have  maintained  these 
 noble  buildings  upon  a  scale  proiiortionate  to  their  design  and  purpose?  At  the  least, 
 the  incident  made  it  clear  that  such  an  audience  could  scarcely  worship  with  comfort  in 
 an  average  Anglican  cathedral. 
 
5i6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 (Ireek  texts.  The  modern  clerical  ideal  is  difterent  from  that  ot  the  last 
 generation ;  and  the  town  vicar  of  to-day  is  apt  to  spend  his  time  in 
 flyincj  all  over  his  jxirish,  while  he  neglects  his  books  and  his  sermon- 
 building,  just  as  the  parson  of  learned  leisure  often  neglected  his  parish 
 for  his  study  in  the  days  of  yore.  Great  scholars  are  rare  ;  yet  not  a  few 
 are  to  be  found  among  the  clergy,  wliile  the  average  English  cleric  will 
 bear  fair  comparison  with  the  minister  of  any  other  religious  body,  or 
 with  the  average  layman.  It  can  scarcely  admit  of  (question,  nevertheless, 
 that  a  much-needed  reform  is  an  extension  of  the  period  devoted  to  the 
 general  culture  and  training  of  candidates  for  orders,  more  particularly 
 of  those  who  go  only  to  a  theological  college.  The  Universities  do  not 
 now  profess  to  give  technical  theological  training  such  as  is  furnished  by 
 Cuddesden,  or  the  theological  department  of  King's  College,  London. 
 Nor  can  the  theological  colleges,  unless  their  scope  is  widened  and  their 
 funds  are  greatly  augmented,  supply  even  elementary  general  culture. 
 Consequently,  if  a  candidate  for  orders  goes  to  the  University,  he  must 
 superadd  his  necessary  theology ;  and  if  to  a  theological  college,  he  must 
 get  his  general  culture  elsewhere. 
 
 What  has  been  said  merely  indicates  that  renewal  of  spiritual  energy 
 and  of  activity  in  good  works  which  is  acknowledged  upon  all  hands. 
 'i"he  Church  of  ICngland  has  not  only  become  interesting,  as  Matthew 
 Arnold  said,  during  the  present  reign ;  she  has  become  a  living  and  grow- 
 ing power  upon  the  common  life.  In  the  towns,  it  is  universally  admitted, 
 the  Church  of  England  has  gained  enormously  ;  so  much  so  that  in  all 
 probability  Disestablishment  would  make  but  small  difference  (except 
 possibly  in  very  poor  districts)  to  outward  seeming.  In  the  country, 
 however,  where  the  Church  was  thought  strongest  not  so  long  since,  she 
 would  a])pear  not  to  have  gained  much  ground,  perhaps  even  to  have  lost. 
 Too  great  stress  need  not  be  laid  upon  "  burial  scandals,'  and  the  like. 
 But  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  there  is  a  strong  anti-clerical  and  anti- 
 Kstablishment  feeling  among  English  working  people,  and  that  this  now 
 seems  most  active  in  the  rural  districts.  The  tone  of  the  newspapers  most 
 widely  read  among  the  working  classes  is  quite  sufficient  to  establish  this. 
 The  causes  of  it  will  probably  be  traced  mainly  to  the  somewhat  pro- 
 nounced political  partisanship  of  many  among  the  country  clergy,  and  to 
 the  fact  that  the  ordinary  workman  has  no  voice  or  influence  in  the  choice 
 of  his  jiarish  priest ;  not  to  any  wide-spread  disbelief,  or  dislike  of  the 
 Church  as  a  religious  organization.  It  is  assuredly  the  case  that  the 
 recently  developed  activity  of  a  section  of  the  clergy  in  the  direction  of 
 .social  f|uestions  has  had  a  marked  influence  upon  the  feeling  and  attitude 
 of  the  working  classes.  It  must  not  be  thought,  however,  that  it  has 
 detached  them  from  the  advocacy  of  Disestablishment  to  any  great  extent, 
 although  the  middle  and  lower  classes  do  appear  to  have  undergone  some 
 change  of  opinion,  largely  owing  to  the  successful  labours  of  the  High 
 Church  school. 
 
rHE   CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  517 
 
 If  the  Churcli  of  England  would  escape  the  dislocation  and  shock  of 
 Disestablishment^  we  must  show  greater  energy  in  reforming  abuses  than 
 at  present  is  the  case.  We  heard  loud  talk  of  Church  reform  about  the 
 time  of  the  1S85  election,  when  Disestablishment  was  in  the  air,  and 
 largely  signed  petitions  were  presented  to  the  Convocations.  Nothing, 
 or  very  litde,  seems  to  have  come  of  it  all.  Churchmen  are  not  agreed 
 as  to  what  is  required,  and  the  House  of  Commons  dislikes  ecclesiastical 
 legislation  exceedingly.  Yet  without  reform,  Disestablishment  is  certain; 
 even  with  it,  Isstablishment  is  not  secure. 
 
 Keform  is  simply  freedom  for  the  Church  to  work  out  her  own  inherent 
 ideas  on  her  own  historic  lines.  The  happy  phrase  "  Home  Rule  for  the 
 Church"  exactly  expresses  what  in  the  first  instance  is  needed.  For  this 
 she  must  go  to  Parliament.  She  would  never  have  to  go  again;  although 
 ecclesiastical  legislation  would  probably  lie  on  the  table  of  the  House  of 
 Commons  for  a  defined  i)erioci,  and  then,  if  no  objection  were  taken,  would 
 become  Church  law. 
 
 The  Church  may  surely  claim  that  the  fetters  forged  by  Thomas  Crom- 
 well, wherewith  to  bind  her  to  the  footstool  of  Henry  VHI.'s  throne,  should 
 now  in  justice  be  loosed.  Till  then,  the  Church  had  been  the  one  power 
 in  England  which  consistently  maintained  the  people's  right,  and  stood 
 between  the  poor  and  their  tyrants  ;  which  made  for  education,  for  justice, 
 for  progress.  Since  then,  the  bishops  and  clergy — not  the  Church — have 
 too  often  been  on  the  side  of  privilege  and  oppression.  Yet  the  basis  and 
 constitution  of  the  Church  Catholic  are  essentially  Democratic ;  and  in 
 order  to  enable  the  Church  of  England  to  get  in  touch  with  the  English 
 people  and  their  new  needs,  it  is  only  necessary  that  she  should  be  free  to 
 work  out  her  own  principles. 
 
 T.  The  right  of  lay  Church-folk  to  a  direct  share  in  the  government  and 
 administration  of  Church  affairs  should  be  recognised  and  given  definite 
 expression.  Diocesan  conferences  and  the  House  of  Daymen  are  merely 
 consultative  bodies,  useful  in  their  way,  but  powerless.  Parochial  councils, 
 although  recommended  by  Convocation  so  long  ago  as  1S70,  have  only 
 been  established  in  a  few  instances.  The  principle  of  Home  Rule  would 
 be  most  usefully  applied  to  the  existing  organization,  if  a  representative 
 Church  council  were  called  into  being  in  every  parish,  with  well-defined 
 statutory  powers ;  and  a  corresponding  organization  for  every  diocese, 
 leading  up  to  a  reformed  Convocation  as  a  central  governing  body.  In  all 
 these  bodies,  of  course,  the  laity  would  have  their  part.  They  are  the 
 Church,  the  clergy  are  but  its  officers.  According  to  all  experience  in 
 other  fields,  nothing  would  so  effectively  show  the  people  that  the  National 
 Church  is  their  own  as  such  a  recognition  of  their  rights  and  responsibilities. 
 It  need  not  here  be  asked  what  should  be  the  test  of  membership  in  the 
 Church,  though  this  important  problem  lies  at  the  threshold. 
 
 2.  The  scandals  of  traffic  in  livings  and  the  abuses  of  patronage  must  be 
 ended.     To  mend  them  is  hopeless.     A  Select  Committee  of  the  House 
 
5iS  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  Commons  reported  in  18S4  in  favour  of  abolishing  all  sales,  except  to 
 jiiihlic  bodies,  with  certain  limitations ;  and  recommended  that  public 
 notice  should  in  all  cases  be  given  to  the  parishioners  before  the  institution 
 of  a  clergyman  presented  to  a  living,  in  order  tliat  if  they  had  any  objection 
 to  make  they  might  be  heard.  This  is  the  very  least  that  can  be  done. 
 For  myself,  I  desire  that  the  clergyman  should  be  elected  by  the  parish, 
 and  the  bishop  by  the  diocese,  as  in  the  early  days  of  the  Christian  Church; 
 believing  that  this  is  really  a  principle  of  the  Church's  constitution,  and 
 that  the  alleged  scandals  of  popular  election  are  infinitely  less  than  those 
 of  ])atronage  and  sale.  For  the  present,  however,  a  right  of  veto  only 
 niigiit  be  claimed  by  the  parish  ;  and,  as  a  safeguard,  some  voice  should 
 be  given  to  the  Bishop  in  Council.  Non-parochial  places  should  also  be 
 provided,  perhaps  at  the  cathedrals,  for  scholars  engaged  in  theological 
 research. 
 
 3.  Tlie  whole  question  of  Church  endowments  should  be  thoroughly 
 examined — say,  by  a  Royal  Commission  ;  and  upon  the  basis  of  facts  thus 
 jjrovided  let  power  be  given  to  redistribute  funds,  just  as  the  Ecclesiastical 
 Commissioners  are  doing  to  some  extent  at  present.  It  would  not  be 
 desirable,  in  my  judgment,  to  equalize  clerical  incomes:  and.  there  is 
 greater  security  for  freedom  of  mind,  and  more  protection  against  fear  of 
 the  man  with  the  long  purse,  if  clerical  stipends  are  not  paid  directly,  or 
 entirely,  by  the  congregation.  The  position  and  payment  of  assistant 
 curates  also  demand  readjustment. 
 
 4.  The  revision  of  the  Church's  formularies  must  be  left  to  theological 
 and  liturgical  experts,  if  undertaken  at  all.  lUit  tliere  remain  the  questions 
 of  clerical  subscription  and  of  the  Act  of  Uniformity.  As  regards  subscrip- 
 tion, the  Thirty-nine  Articles  are  admitted  no  longer  to  serve  the  purpose 
 tor  which  they  were  imposed  on  the  clergy.  It  is  scarcely  too  much  to  say 
 that  they  are  chiefly  retained  from  a  wholesome  fear  of  the  disturbances 
 and  controversies  which  would  be  raised  by  a  proposal  to  abolish  subscrip- 
 tion altogether,  or  to  substitute  acceptance  of  the  ancient  creeds.  But  the 
 ([iicstion  must  be  faced,  and  an  answer  found.  The  Act  of  Uniformity  was 
 originally  a  measure  of  relief,  intended  to  secure  to  the  people  certain 
 rights  which  the  Puritans  denied  them.  The  time  has  clearly  come  for  its 
 relaxation — at  least  to  such  an  extent  as  to  allow  of  greater  variety  and 
 elasticity  in  the  services,  and  perhaps  to  admit  (lualified  laymen  to  preach 
 under  the  bishop's  licence. 
 
 .\ly  private  belief  is  that  if  private  patronage  wore  abolished,  and  the 
 clergy  elected  by  tiie  people,  as  in  Switzerland,  all  other  details  of  reform 
 would  soon  follow,  and  nothing  more  would  be  heard  of  Disestablishment. 
 So  great  a  change  would  have  to  be  accomplished  gradually,  and  the 
 rraclical  diflirultics  are  almost  as  great  as  those  of  disendowment.  I  have 
 small  hope  of  seeing  it  fulfilled  in  my  lifetime.  But  I  am  convinced  that 
 an  advance  in  this  direction  is  the  only  alternative  to  Disestablishment. 
 
THE   CHURCH   OF  ENGLAND.  519 
 
 The  risks  oFtlve  latter  policy  have  never  been  fully  faced  by  either  side. 
 That  the  Church  would  become  stronger,  richer,  more  numerous,  more 
 powerful,  after  a  few  years  of  confusion  and  resettlement,  I  am  sure  ;  so 
 sure,  that  were  I  a  mere  ecclesiastical  tactician,  bent  on  getting  the  best 
 terms  for  my  own  religious  body,  I  would  vote  for  Disestablishment  to- 
 morrow, 'I'hc  doubtful  "privileges"  of  the  clergy  would  be  cheaply  got 
 rid  of  along  with  the  vexatious  disabilities  which  hamper  us ;  as,  for 
 example,  the  rule  which  prevents  us  from  sitting  in  the  House  of 
 Commons. 
 
 l»ut  over  and  above  the  immediate  crippling  of  energy,  and  loss  of 
 means,  and  difficulty  of  keeping  up  Church  Organization  in  poor  districts, 
 1  shrink  from  such  a  breach  with  the  past  as  tlie  disappearance  of  the 
 Established  Church  would  involve.  And  I  fear  that  a  body,  such  as  the 
 Disestablislied  Church  would  become,  might  only  too  easily  develop  into 
 a  formidable  danger  to  the  State — a  political /rt/7//r/'//-^. 
 
 But  whatever  may  be  the  future  of  the  Church  of  England  as  an 
 Establishment,  she  has  to-day  the  promise  and  potency  of  full  and  vigorous 
 life.  Disendowment  may  in  some  degree  cripple  her  for  a  time,  but  it 
 cannot  touch  the  inner  sources  of  her  call,  her  devotion,  and  her  strength. 
 They  who  believe  in  her  commission,  and  know  her  history,  are  they  who 
 liavc  the  firmest  faith  in  her  future. 
 
520 
 
 NONCONFORMITY. 
 
 By  J.  Ai.i.AXSON  PicTON,  M.A.,  M.P. 
 
 'J'liF,  title  of  this  paper  was  not  of  my  choosing;  and  when  I  came  to  think 
 of  it,  it  appeared  to  me  to  present  some  preHminary  difficulties  to  which 
 perhaps  I  had  better  allude.  Nonconformity,  properly  so  called,  exists 
 only  on  a  very  narrow  portion  of  the  earth's  surface.  It  is  confined 
 almost  entirely  to  I'2ngland  and  Wales.  To  a  certain  extent  it  may  be 
 said  to  exist  in  Scotland,  but  on  Scottish  Nonconformity  I  shall  have 
 another  word  to  say  presently.  It  is  entirely  unknown  in  Ireland,  it  is 
 also  unknown  in  the  United  States  of  America,  and  likewise  in  the  British 
 Colonics.  It  is  unknown  in  Ireland,  in  the  United  States,  and  in  the 
 Colonies,  for  the  simple  reason  that  there  exists  in  those  happy  lands  no 
 established  and  authoritative  Church,  from  which  it  is  a  crime,  or  at  least 
 a  social  misdemeanour,  to  dissent.  Where  there  is  no  legal  standard  of 
 Conformity,  obviously  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  Nonconformity  ;  and 
 I  could  not  but  admire  the  sound  common-sense  of  Lord  Salisbury  a  few 
 months  ago,  who,  when  he  was  presented  with  an  address  from  certain 
 alleged  Irish  Nonconformists,  immediately  remarked  that  no  such  people 
 could  possibly  exist  in  Ireland,  since  the  Church  was  disestablished. 
 
 Not  only  is  it  the  case  that  Nonconformity,  properly  so  called,  exists 
 over  a  very  limited  extent  of  the  earth's  surface,  but  the  word  has  an  en- 
 tirely different  meaning  on  opposite  sides  of  the  Scottish  Border.  I  heard 
 an  amusing  illustration  of  this  one  day  when  I  was  standing  upon  the 
 Calton  Hill  in  I'^^dinburgh,  and  surveying  the  noble  prospect  afforded 
 there  of  the  modern  .\thens.  I  was  told  that  a  good  Presbyterian  citizen 
 had  recently  been  showing  the  lions  of  his  native  city  to  an  Anglican 
 clergyman  on  a  visit  there.  Tiiey  ascended  the  Calton  Hill  together,  and 
 the  Presbyterian  citizen  pointed  out  with  pride  the  large  number  of  eccle- 
 siastical buildings  to  be  seen.  Said  the  Anglican  clergyman,  "Certainly 
 it  is  a  glorious  sight."  "  Well,  yes,"  replied  tiie  Presbyterian  citizen,  "but 
 it  is  a  little  mnrred  by  the  steeples  of  those  interloping  Noticonformists." 
 "What!"  asked  the  clergyman  in  surprise;  "surely  there  are  very  few 
 Methodists  or  Independents  in  this  country."  "  Oh,  no,"  said  the  Presby- 
 terian citizen,  "  it  is  the  Episcopalian  Dissenting  Churches  that  I  allude 
 to."  The  good  Anglican  clergyman  h:i<l  not  thought  at  all  of  the  fact 
 that  what  was  Nonconformity  in  England  was  Conformity  in  Scotland,  and 
 what  was  established  in  ICngland  would  be  Dissent  in  Scotland.  The 
 word  has,  as  I  have  said,  entirely  different  meanings  on  opposite  sides  of 
 the  Border.     This  is  obviously  a  difficulty  in  the  way  of  any  compre- 
 
NONCONFORM/T\ '.  5^1 
 
 hensive  treatment  of  the  subject  of  Nonconformity.  For  all  the  forms  ot 
 CJhristianity  are  Nonconformist  somewhere  or  other,  and  it  can  scarcely 
 have  been  the  wish  of  the  committee  who  manage  this  series  of  lectures 
 that  I  should  attempt  to  deal  with  the  opposition  between  all  historical 
 (Jhurch  establishments  on  the  one  hand,  and  all  Dissenting  sects  in  every 
 ])art  of  the  world  on  the  other.  Nevertheless  this  idea  of  opposition  gives 
 the  key,  in  my  view,  to  the  meaning  of  the  managers  of  these  lectures,  in 
 asking  me  to  undertake  the  subject  of  Nonconformity.  They  wish  me,  I 
 presume,  to  deal  with  those  English  forms  of  Christianity  the  evolution  of 
 which  has  been  marked  by  the  clash  of  conflict  against  the  traditional 
 Catholic  hierarchy,  and,  consequentially,  against  the  secular  despotisms 
 that  have  raged  in  this  country  in  times  gone  by. 
 
 Now,  the  various  denominations  whose  history  has  this  mark  of  conflict 
 in  common  present  endless  varieties  of  belief  and  of  ecclesiastical  organi- 
 zation ;  but  all  these  varieties  sprang  originally  from  one  central  conviction, 
 on  which  I  desire  to  dwell.  Tliat  central  conviction  was  this,  that  a  living 
 inspiration  is  always  to  be  preferred  to  a  dead  tradition.  Observe  I  use 
 the  word  inspiration  in  no  magic  or  miraculous  sense.  As  nearly  as  I  can 
 ])ut  it  into  the  form  of  a  detinition,  what  I  mean  thereby  is  an  impulse 
 that  comes  to  emotional  souls  from  a  glimpse  through  the  veil  of  illusion 
 into  the  deeper  realities  behind  it.  And  such  glimpses  into  the  deeper 
 realities  of  life,  when  they  are  experienced,  seem  like — and  I  verily  be- 
 lieve are — the  inflow  of  a  universal  life  upon  the  sensitive  heart.  From 
 Isaiah  to  Shakespeare  and  onwards  to  Burns  or  Browning,  where,  apart 
 from  the  poetic  beauty  of  expression  in  their  utterances,  you  are  moved  to 
 deep  and  noble  emotions,  it  is  only  by  words  that  take  you  behind  the 
 veil  of  conventional  ideas,  and  surround  you  with  the  verities  of  moral 
 truth. 
 
 I  do  not  know  that  ever  a  landscape  looks  more  charming  than  when  it 
 is  suddenly  revealed  to  you  through  a  rent  in  a  cloud.  I  remember  in 
 the  often  misly,  but  always  grand  and  beautiful,  land  of  Norway,  I  was 
 wandering  once  down  a  mountain-side  towards  the  seaward  end  of  a 
 valley,  and  I  found  myself  entirely  encompassed  by  an  impenetrable 
 mist.  But  after  some  few  minutes  of  patience,  suddenly  a  rift  was  cleared, 
 and  down  below  I  saw  the  solid  luminous  rocky  feet  of  the  adjoining 
 mountains,  and  amidst  them  an  exquisite  little  village,  with  deep  red 
 roofs  relieved  against  a  background  of  verdant  meadow.  Never  did  the 
 solid  luminous  earth  appear  so  real  or  so  beautiful  to  me,  as  by  contrast 
 with  the  bewildering,  uncertain  mist  in  which  I  had  been  lost.  So  it  is 
 with  the  soul  that  gets  a  glimpse  of  solid,  luminous  reality  through  the 
 uncertain  mists  of  conventionalism  and  dead  tradition. 
 
 Those  who  have  been  sometimes  wearied  out  with  the  dull  monotony 
 of  many  Nonconformist  services,  or  perhaps  disgusted  with  the  mercenary 
 vulgarity  of  others,  may  wonder  that  I  should  attribute  to  Nonconformity 
 any  share  of  such  inspiration  as  I  have  spoken  of.      How  can  there  be  in 
 
522  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Nonconformity,  as  wc  know  it  in  most  conventicles  at  the  present  day, 
 any  impulse  coming  to  emotional  souls  from  a  glimpse  through  the  veil  of 
 illusion  into  the  deeper  realities  behind  ?  But  remember,  I  said  just  now 
 tiiat  all  varieties  of  belief  and  organization,  embraced  within  this  wide 
 word  Nonconformity,  sprang  ori^^inally  from  such  inspiration  ;  I  did  not 
 say  that  they  always  represent  such  inspiration  now.  They  sprang 
 originally  from  such  inspiration,  and  were  for  the  most  part  glorious  in  the 
 beginning.  The  stream  that  stagnates  as  dead  ditchwater,  in  the  spread- 
 ing mouth  at  the  outlet  of  a  tidal  river,  may  have  leapt  into  the  light  as 
 liquid  crystal,  where  the  mountain-top  meets  the  heavens  ;  and  so  it  may 
 happen,  and  very  often  does  happen,  that  organizations  which  appear  now 
 as  very  dull  and  prosaic  sects  had  most  noble  origins.  It  would,  however, 
 be  invidious  to  particularize  by  way  of  illustration,  and  therefore  I  leave 
 you  to  apply  the  remark  for  yourselves. 
 
 Now,  it  is  in  its  origin  that  Nonconformity  is  most  instructive  to  us.  In 
 its  after-i)rogress  I  am  fain  to  confess  that  it  has  often  been  far  more  useful 
 for  purposes  of  warning,  except  in  some  respects,  which  I  shall  advert  to 
 presently.  The  conflict  between  Nonconformity  and  the  established 
 hierarchy  is  only  a  modern  form  of  the  perennial  opposition  between 
 priestcraft  on  the  one  hand  and  prophctism  on  the  other.  The  priest, 
 from  the  very  beginning  of  religious  organization,  and  even  perhaps  in 
 prehistoric  times,  represented  customs  that  had  become  sacred  from  their 
 inveteracy.  He  represented  traditional  mysteries  which  necessarily  clothed 
 these  in  ritual.  He  represented  spiritual  authority  that  arrayed  itself  in 
 pomp  and  glory.  The  prophet,  on  the  other  hand,  represented  inspira- 
 tion in  the  sense  that  I  have  given  to  the  word.  He  represented  the 
 emergence  of  truth  out  of  mystery  ;  the  substitution  of  life  for  ritual  and 
 of  moral  force  for  the  mechanical  weight  of  authority.  You  may  find  this 
 contrast  vividly  portrayed  in  the  Old  Testament.  A  quaint  and  striking 
 instance  occurs  to  my  mind  in  the  Book  of  Amos  the  prophet.  There  we 
 read  that  Amaziah,  the  priest  of  Bethel,  the  most  sacred  place  at  that 
 time  in  the  norllicrn  kingdom  of  Israel,  was  seriously  scandalized  by  the 
 plain,  straightforward  words  of  invective  uttered  by  the  mouth  of  Amos 
 against  the  wickedness  of  the  priesthood  and  the  people  of  the  court. 
 Being  unable  to  bear  his  words  longer,  and  apparently  somewhat  afraid  of 
 him,  .\maziah  said  :  "  O,  thou  seer,  get  thee  into  the  land  of  Judah,  and 
 there  eat  bread  and  there  prophesy  :  but  prophesy  not  in  Bethel ;  for  it  is 
 the  king's  chapel,  and  it  is  the  king's  court."  Tiie  reply  of  Amos  was 
 more  forcible  tlian  courteous,  and  by  no  means  so  touching  as  the  words- 
 uttered  by  a  still  greater  prophet,  Jeremiah,  in  somewhat  similar  circum- 
 stances. He  resolved,  owing  to  the  strenuousness  of  the  opposition 
 against  him,  to  speak  no  more  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  ;  but,  says  he  : 
 "  His  word  was  then  within  me  as  a  burning  fire  shut  up  in  my  bones,  and 
 I  was  weary  with  forbearing,  and  I  could  not  stay."  In  such  illustrations 
 as  these  you  have,  set  forth  with  dramatic  force,  the  contrast  between  the 
 
NONCONFORMITY.  523 
 
 priestly  order  of  things  sustained  by  convention,  custom,  and  passion; 
 and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  vital  inspiration  of  the  prophet,  who  sees 
 through  the  mists  of  error  a  new  truth— or  rather,  an  eternal  truth  freshly 
 revealed— and  must  speak  or  die. 
 
 Christianity  itself  was  in  its  origin  an  extraordinary  development  of  this 
 opposition  between  prophetism  and  priestcraft.  You  know  it  is  said  of 
 Jesus  that  when  he  addressed  the  multitudes  "  tliey  were  astonished  at 
 1  lis  doctrine,  because  He  taught  them  as  one  having  authority,  and  not 
 as  the  scribes."  Now,  foolish  commentators  have  sometimes,  though  not 
 in  recent  times,  seen  in  these  words  an  acknowledgment  of  some  Divine 
 and  supernatural  claim  on  the  part  of  Christ  to  instant  obedience,  not  on 
 account  of  the  truth  He  spoke,  but  because  of  His  personal  prerogatives. 
 .Such,  liowever,  is  as  far  as  possible  from  being  the  meaning  of  the  words. 
 The  contrast  is  drawn  between  His  teaching  and  that  of  the  scribes,  who 
 were  the  satellites  of  the  priests.  The  scribes  gave  form  and  order  to  the 
 traditions  that  had  come  down  amongst  the  priests  and  their  followers. 
 The  scribes  put  into  ancient  and  dried  formulas  the  old  customs  that  had 
 become  sacred  througli  inveteracy ;  and  their  only  idea  of  proving  any 
 opinion  was  to  count  up  the  number  of  authorities  by  whom  it  had  been 
 held.  But  this  \\i::\\  prophet,  Jesus,  appealed  to  no  external  authority 
 whatever.  He  spoke  words  that  were  luminous  widi  the  truth  they  bore 
 to  tlie  soul  within.  As  He  told  the  people  of  meekness,  of  mercy,  of 
 forgiveness,  of  brotherhood,  of  simplicity,  of  humilit)',  the  words  bore  their 
 own  evidence  with  them  to  the  conscience  of  the  hearer,  and  needed  no 
 appeal  to  any  other  authority.  This  is  the  real  force  of  the  description  of 
 His  preaching,  as  that  of  one  who  spoke  as  having  authority  and  not  as 
 the  scribes.  His  words  came  as  a  revelation  bearing  its  own  evidence 
 with  it. 
 
 And  yet  Christianity,  be  it  observed,  was  not  in  its  origin  a  Noncon- 
 formist denomination  ;  that  is  to  say,  it  did  not  depart  or  separate  itself 
 from  the  established  religion  of  the  day.  It  kept  the  law  01  Moses  ;  and 
 the  very  first  followers  of  Jesus,  like  Himself,  worshipped  in  the  Temple 
 and  in  the  synagogues.  It  was  St.  Paul  who  first  developed  Christianity 
 into  an  outwardly  Nonconformist  religion.  It  was  St.  Paul  who  first 
 taught  that  the  ritual  and  law  of  Moses  was  worthless,  and  had  no  power  of 
 salvation  in  it.  It  was  St.  Paul  who  first  invited  heathen  of  all  classes 
 and  of  all  races  to  enter  the  Church  without  undergoing  any  superstitious 
 rite,  and  without  binding  themselves  to  observe  any  ancient  law  whatever. 
 What  would  Christianity  have  been  had  it  lived  up  to  St.  Paul?  St.  Paul 
 is  sometimes  honoured  by  exaggeration  on  the  one  hand,  and  not  suffi- 
 ciently honoured  on  the  other  for  the  real  virtues  he  possessed.  St.  Paul 
 was  not  the  profound  philosopher,  not  the  man  of  gigantic  intellect,  that 
 he  is  sometimes  represented  to  be.  But  neither  was  he  the  Calvinistic 
 theologian  that  he  is  sometimes  described  as  being.  St.  Paul  was  cer- 
 tainly a  prophet  in  the  sense  I  have  given  to  the  word.     The  mist  of 
 
524  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 Jewish  convention  and  tradition  disappeared  from  before  his  eyes,  and  he 
 saw  the  sohd  luminous  reahties  of  moral  truth  and  goodness  that  are  in 
 themselves  eternal,  and  independent  of  any  positive  law  whatever  ;  and 
 lie  taught  those  higlier  and  broader  truths  of  morality  as  sufticient  in 
 themselves  for  salvation.  All  that  has  been  ascribed  to  him  as  Calvinistic 
 theology  is  only  so  much  illustration,  so  much  rabbinical  habit,  wliich 
 the  man  could  not  shake  off,  or  to  which  he  may  liave  clung,  either  on 
 his  own  account  or  on  account  of  the  interests  of  the  people  whom 
 he  addressed.  He  does  indulge  largely  in  rabbinical  modes  of  argu- 
 ment, and  in  Jewish  illustrations;  but  those  who  carefully  read  his  writings 
 will  always  see  that  there  is  an  object  beyond  these  illustrations,  and  that 
 the  ultimate  end  is  always  the  establishment  of  a  moral  truth,  independent 
 of  mere  convention  and  tradition.  It  is  too  often  forgotten  that  St. 
 Paul  throughout  his  writings,  so  far  as  we  possess  them,  never  suggested 
 such  a  thing  as  excommunication  for  differences  of  religious  belief.  He 
 does  occasionally  tell  his  disciples  to  separate  tliemselves  from  a  brother 
 who  is  walking  in  scandalous  impurity  ;  but  those  who  read  and  remem- 
 ber will  know  tliat,  in  one  of  his  epistles,  he  refers  to  brethren  in  the 
 Corinthian  Church,  who  actually  said  there  was  no  resurrection.  What 
 does  he  do  ?  He  argues  with  them.  He  tells  them  of  what  he  believes 
 to  have  been  his  own  experience  ;  he  charges  them  with  inconsistency 
 and  with  folly  ;  but  he  gives  no  direction  that  they  shall  be  excommuni- 
 cated from  the  Church. 
 
 How  very  different  was  his  practice  from  that  which  would  be  inevitable 
 in  any  so-called  Evangelical  Church  at  the  present  day  !  Paul  wished  to 
 establish  a  higher  life  amongst  the  people.  For  this  purpose  he  separated 
 himself  from  the  old  Jewish  ecclesiastical  organizations,  and  endeavoured 
 to  establish  in  the  world  a  Christianity  which  should  be  entirely  free  from 
 its  traditions.  But,  unfortunately,  no  man  in  that  age  of  the  world  could 
 possibly  accomplish  such  a  superhuman  task.  Notwithstanding  all  St. 
 Paul's  teaching,  the  customs  of  Christianity  ever  tended  to  harden  into 
 ritual.  Its  traditional  mysteries  became  associated,  through  its  chief  sacra- 
 ment, with  an  irrational  dogma.  Its  ritual  demanded  a  priesthood.  Its 
 priesthood  developed  into  a  hierarchy ;  its  hierarchy  necessarily  assumed 
 the  functions  of  a  spiritual  tyranny. 
 
 During  all  this  process  of  degeneration,  however,  protests  and  re-actions 
 (  ontinually  arose.  For  the  life  of  any  religion,  like  the  life  of  an  organism, 
 is  shown  by  its  power  of  internal  rearrangement  and  reconstruction  to  meet 
 the  necessities  of  changing  circumstances.  Put  the  reaction  most  affecting 
 the  subject  with  which  we  are  now  dealing  did  not  occur,  so  far  as  our  in- 
 formation goes,  until  .some  six  centuries  had  passed  over  the  Church.  In 
 the  fifty-fourth  chapter  of  his  immortal  history,  Gibbon  gives  us  a  most 
 interesting  account  of  the  heresy  called  that  of  the  Paulicians,  a  name 
 undoubtedly  taken  from  the  Apostle  Paul.  According  to  (iibbon's 
 account — and   the  best  informed    ecclesiastics    allow  that,    whatever   his 
 
NONCONFORMITY.  525 
 
 beliefs  may  have  been,  his  information  is  extremely  accurate— a  certain 
 Syrian  deacon  in  the  course  of  his  travels  met  with  a  Christian  named 
 Constantine,  somewhere  in  the  north  of  Syria,  and  in  return  for  the  hospi- 
 tality he  obtained  in  his  house  presented  him  witli  certain  sacred  docu- 
 ments, which  turned  out  to  consist  of  most  of  the  canonical  books  of  the 
 New  Testament.  Constantine  studied  these  with  great  eagerness,  and 
 was  especially  attracted,  as  any  one  coming  upon  them  for  the  first  time 
 would  necessarily  be,  by  the  passion  and  vitality  and  energy  of  St.  Paul's 
 writmgs.  Constantine  felt  as  if  a  mist  were  opening,  and  through  a  rift  he 
 saw  more  luminous  and  solid  truth  behind. 
 
 Undoubtedly  he  and  his  followers  soon  fell  into  many  fantasies  and 
 errors,  but,  at  the  same  time,  their  views  were  characterized  by  very  much 
 vigour  and  simplicity.  He  shook  off  the  yoke  of  priestly  superstition.  He 
 denied  the  necessity  of  either  bishops  or  elders  to  dispense  the  Word  of 
 God  aright.  He  repudiated  the  absolute  need  even  for  the  sacraments  of 
 the  Church.  He  insisted  upon  a  pure  life,  and  simple  attachment  to  the 
 teachings  of  Jesus,  as  they  had  come  down  through  St.  Paul.  He  rejected 
 the  yoke  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  thought  that  the  New  Testament  had 
 in  it  quite  sufficient  for  salvation. 
 
 His  followers  multiplied  rapidly,  and  spread  over  a  considerable  part  of 
 Asia  Minor.  As  was  always  the  case,  until  very  recent  times,  spiritual 
 independence  necessarily  led  not  only  to  conflicts  with  ecclesiastical,  but 
 to  resistance  against  the  secular,  powers.  They  made  a  violent  fight  for 
 themselves,  did  these  Paulicians  ;  but  in  the  course  of  a  century  they  were 
 suppressed,  and  removed  entirely  from  their  native  soil,  and  transplanted 
 to  the  land  of  Thrace.  Here  they  came  into  contact  with  the  Bulgarians, 
 who  had  been  newly  established  in  the  district,  and  created  another  sect 
 of  heretics  which  was  viewed  with  the  utmost  abhorrence  in  the  Middle 
 Ages.  Yet,  though  we  must  allow  that  probably  they  had  a  great  many 
 wild  ideas  mingled  with  their  simple  fervour,  on  the  whole  there  seems  to 
 be  good  reason  to  believe  that  they  retained,  even  in  Bulgaria,  very  much 
 of  the  simplicity  and  devotion  that  had  characterized  the  earliest  Pauli- 
 cians. 
 
 From  Bulgaria  this  so-called  heresy  spread  in  various  lines,  traced  by 
 Gibbon  to  the  west  of  Europe,  and  he  believed,  probably  on  fairly  good 
 grounds,  that  the  teaching  of  the  Vaudois  and  the  Albigenses  was  to  be 
 traced,  if  we  only  had  sufficient  information  on  the  subject,  to  the  sporadic 
 preaching  of  these  Bulgarian  heretics,  who  derived  their  spiritual  origin 
 from  the  Paulicians. 
 
 It  is  impossible  to  trace  their  influence  directly  on  our  own  country. 
 But  there  is  very  much  similarity  between  the  general  spirit  of  Wyclifte 
 and  the  Lollards  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  religious  ideas  of  the  Paulicians 
 on  the  other ;  and  one  can  scarcely  hel[)  suspecting  that  through  some 
 underground  channels,  the  influence  of  the  original  sectaries  had  been 
 brought  to  our  own  country.     Be  that  as  it  may,  the  followers  of  Wyclifife 
 
526  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 — the  Lollards  as  they  were  called — kept  alive  a  similar  spirit,  a  similar 
 desire  to  return  to  apostolic  authority,  for  many  years  before  the  Reforma- 
 tion dawned  upon  this  country  ;  and  it  is  doubtless  owing  to  their  per- 
 severance and  bravery  and  patience,  that  materials  were  preserved  in  this 
 country  on  which  a  really  spiritual  and  moral  reform  could  work. 
 
 The  Reformation  that  took  a  visible  form  in  the  sixteenth  century  in 
 this  country  was  something  very  difterent  from  that  inculcated  by  Wvcliffc 
 and  the  Lollards.  The  royalties  who  wrought  that  Reformation  were 
 practically  untouched  by  any  religious  revolt  against  superstition.  Their 
 objects  were  entirely  political.  It  was  inconvenient  to  them  to  depend  for 
 any  purpose  whatever  upon  the  foreign  authority  of  the  Pope.  All  they 
 wished  was  to  shake  his  yoke  from  their  necks,  while  they,  at  the  same 
 time,  preserved  the  whole  of  the  priestly  discipline,  which  was  so  convenient 
 in  dealing  with  the  people.  The  result  was  that  there  were  two  movements 
 in  this  country,  by  no  means  vitally  united,  or  even  connected  one  with 
 the  other.  There  was  the  hierarchic  movement,  which  was  merely  the 
 assertion  of  episcopal  independence  of  Rome,  while  the  Catholic  tradition 
 was  insisted  c^w  in  its  Anglican  form  ;  and  on  the  other  liand,  there  was 
 the  Wycliffite  or  Lollard  or  Nonconformist  inspiration,  which  demanded  a 
 return  to  the  teaching  and  spirit  of  St  Paul. 
 
 It  is  obvious  that  I  cannot  take  you  through  the  history  of  the  conflicts 
 arising  from  the  double  character  of  our  reformation.  I  need  only  remind 
 you  that  the  priestly,  hierarchic  Church  of  the  Tudors  and  Stuarts  entirely 
 failed  to  satisfy  the  revived  prophetic  spirit  of  the  more  radical  reformers. 
 This  dissatisfaction  had  much  to  do  with  ])reparing  the  way  for  the  Great 
 Rebellion,  and,  still  more,  it  had  to  do  with  ensuring  the  triumph  of  tluit 
 rebellion. 
 
 Put,  alas  I  few  of  the  victors  in  the  struggle  understood  what  spirit  they 
 were  of.  Their  notion  was,  that  if  they  were  perfectly  and  confidently 
 sure  of  anything  themselves,  they  must  compel  other  people  to  be  equally 
 sure  of  it  ;  and  never  were  they  satisfied  unless  they  could  succeed. 
 Absolute  freedom  of  belief,  complete  toleration  for  all  forms  of  ecclesiastical 
 organization,  seems  to  us  so  much  a  matter  of  course,  that  we  can  scarcely 
 conceive  how  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago  it  was  absolutely  impossible. 
 Even  when  tlie  presbytery  had  overthrown  the  hierarchy,  and  wrung  from 
 a  defeated  king  and  aristocracy  the  freedom  that  had  been  so  earnestly 
 desired,  Presbytery  turned  out  to  be,  as  John  Milton  humorously  said, 
 "old  priest  writ  large";  and  the  intolerance  of  the  presbytery  was  a  thorn 
 in  the  side  of  the  very  few  earnest  and  thorough-going  men  who  felt  that 
 there  was  no  remedy  for  the  contentions  of  the  time,  but  complete  and 
 entire  toleration  of  all  differences  of  opinion.  Even  under  the  Common- 
 wealth— although  from  some  study  on  the  subject  I,  in  my  heart,  believe 
 that  Oliver  Cromwell  was  most  anxious  to  forestall  future  times  in  estab- 
 lishing tolerance  even  for  Roman  Catholics — it  was  impossible  to  carry  out 
 this'idea.     ^'et  all  new  discoveries   that  are  made  in   ancient  documents. 
 
NONCONFORMITY.  527 
 
 and  all  more  minute  study  of  the  experience  of  individuals  and  local 
 churches  in  those  days,  give  us  continually  a  higher  idea  of  the  compre- 
 hensive and  tolerant  spirit  that  in  general  actuated  the  greatest  sovereignty 
 that  this  country  ever  experienced. 
 
 The  restoration  of  Charles  II.  was  in  many  respects  the  most  disastrous 
 event,  the  direst  curse,  this  country  ever  suffered.  Yet  the  persecution  it 
 brought  on  Nonconformity  was  by  no  means  an  unmixed  evil.  That  per- 
 secution forced  Nonconformists  back  into  their  proper  duty  of  prophetic 
 protest.  It  made  them  heralds  of  a  wider  freedom  than  it  ever  entered 
 into  their  heads  to  dream  of.  It  was  not  their  theory,  it  was  not  their 
 aspiration,  but  the  necessities  of  their  position,  that  compelled  the  passage 
 of  the  Toleration  Act.  William  III.  was  a  man  quite  shrewd  enough  to 
 see  that  it  was  utterly  impossible  ever  to  stamp  out  religious  differences  in 
 this  country  ;  and  his  Dutch  experience  made  him  comparatively  regardless 
 of  hierarchical  superstitions.  He  was,  therefore,  quite  ready  to  make  any 
 reasonable  compromise  which  would  give  peace  in  his  time  ;  and  thus  it 
 came  to  pass  that  he  obtained  the  throne  on  terms  which  ensured  some 
 limited  measure — a  very  limite  dmeasure  it  afterwards  turned  out  to  be — 
 of  toleration  to  those  who  dissented  from  the  Church  as  by  law  estab- 
 lished. 
 
 Toleration  necessarily  led  afterwards  to  attempts  at  comprehension. 
 When  attempts  at  comprehension  failed,  the  supporters  of  authority  were 
 so  disappointed  and  vexed  that  they  recurred  as  far  as  they  could  to 
 methods  of  persecution,  and  so  for  more  than  a  hundred  years  Dissenters 
 were  held  to  be  rightly  disabled  from  taking  any  public  office  of  any  kind 
 unless  they  would  sin  against  their  own  consciences,  by  conforming  to  the 
 outward  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  Church.  Not  until  the  year  1S2S 
 were  the  Test  and  Corporation  Acts  repealed,  and  the  right  of  all  Non- 
 conformists fully  acknowledged  to  take  public  appointments,  municipal 
 positions,  or  offices  under  the  Crown. 
 
 Catholic  emancipation  followed,  as  you  know,  about  the  same  time.  It 
 was  a  long  while  before  the  universities  were  thrown  open  to  Noncon- 
 formists, and  they  are  scarcely  thrown  open  yet  as  wide  as  they  ought  to 
 be ;  and  to  this  day  we  cry  out,  apparently  in  vain,  for  the  full  and  un- 
 limited proclamation  of  religious  equality  to  all  parties. 
 
 That,  however,  is  assured  to  us.  It  is  impossible  for  us  to  draw  back 
 in  the  march  of  progress  upon  which  we  have  entered,  and  if  not  in  our 
 day,  at  least  in  the  days  of  our  children,  the  last  shreds  of  intolerance  will 
 be  swept  away  from  our  constitution. 
 
 Better,  however,  than  any  attempt  to  tell  over  again  the  history  of  the 
 struggles  that  have  ensued  from  the  persistency  of  Nonconformity,  better 
 is  it  to  attempt  some  brief  summary  of  what  we  owe  to  Nonconformity  as 
 a  phase  of  religious  development.  Very  difierent  estimates  must  neces- 
 sarily be  formed  as  to  the  special  religious  value  to  be  attached  to  Noncon- 
 formity.    Indeed,  its  modes  of  belief,  and  its  modes  of  religious  action,  and 
 
52S  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 its  forms  of  worship  are  so  endlessly  different,  that  no  general  judgment 
 can  possibly  embrace  them  all.  I  am  content  to  say  that  wherever 
 Nonconformity  has  kept  alive  its  preference  for  living  inspiration  over 
 dead  tradition  there  it  remains  a  good  thing;  there  it  is  still  a  glorious 
 influence  in  our  land.  But  wherever  it  has  merely  substituted  sectarian 
 prejudice  for  the  traditions  of  a  hierarchy,  there  it  is  necessarily  evil.  If  I 
 miiiht  "ive  illustrations  of  Nonconformist  bodies  that  have  retained  for  a 
 long  time  their  preference  for  living  inspiration  over  dead  tradition,  I  could 
 not  but  refer  specially  to  the  Society  of  Friends.  There  is  no  sect  amongst 
 the  Nonconformists,  which  in  its  origin  so  entirely  abandoned  all  submis- 
 sion to  earthly  authority  in  matters  of  religious  opinion  or  religious  worship. 
 There  is  no  religious  body  that  has  made  greater  sacrifices,  there  is 
 absolutely  none  that  has  been  so  pure  in  its  modes  of  action.  For  as  you 
 know,  neither  I'resbyterians  nor  Independents,  nor,  for  the  matter  of  that,. 
 Baptists,  scrupled  to  take  the  sword  at  times  for  the  maintenance  of  their 
 own  views,  or  of  the  power  of  their  own  religion.  Eut  the  followers  of  Fox 
 have  always  confined  themselves  entirely  to  moral  suasion  or  to  passive 
 resistance.  And  none  have  ev^er  shown  more  martyr-like  courage  in 
 bearing  all  the  ills  that  a  corrupt  society  could  heap  upon  them  rather  than 
 soil  their  consciences.  And  I  cannot  but  think  that  the  great  statesman, 
 whose  voice  is  so  recently  silenced  in  the  tomb,  owed  very  much  indeed 
 of  his  signal  moral  influence  over  the  senate  and  the  people  of  this  country 
 to  his  Quaker  training.  John  Bright  had  learned  in  the  meeting-house  that 
 he  attended  in  early  life,  near  to  which  his  remains  now  lie,  in  truly  '*  con- 
 secrated "  ground,  to  j)refer  moral  truth  to  ecclesiastical  forms,  learned  to 
 prefer  the  direct  utterances  of  an  unsophisticated  conscience  to  the  quib- 
 blings  and  explanations  of  an  effete  theology.  Jolin  Bright  learned  that 
 the  precious  soul  of  religion  is  righteousness  :  and  such  convictions  under- 
 lie all  the  pleadings  of  his  eloquence  throughout  his  long  and  illustrious 
 career. 
 
 I  might  also,  did  time  permit,  allude  to  the  power  of  inspiration  for  long 
 possessed  by  the  various  Methodist  connexions.  Whether  their  inspiration 
 survives  as  brightly  to  the  present  day  or  not,  I  will  scarcely  undertake  to  say. 
 But  there  are  sporadic  movements  of  Nonconformity,  such  as  those  repre- 
 sented by  churches  scarcely  connected  with  any  sect  whatever,  in  which  able 
 men — men  of  profound  convictions  and  of  ])atriotic  vigour — I  might  say  like 
 the  minister  wiio  used  to  preach  in  this  building,  the  late  Mr.  W.  J.  Fox, 
 have  borne  testimony  to  the  superiority  of  present  inspirations  over  efi'ete 
 traditions. 
 
 The  inspiration  does  not  die  away.  It  may  change  from  place  to  place  ; 
 it  may  assume  now  one  form  and  now  another.  Jt  may  be  associated  now 
 with  one,  and  again  with  another  species  of  genius,  but  the  inspiration  is 
 as  immortal  as  humanity. 
 
 If  I  were  to  attempt  to  sum  up  the  chief  benefits  that  the  country  has 
 derived  from  Nonconformity,  I  would  say  they  are  comprised  mainly  in  the 
 
NONCONFORMITY.  529 
 
 insistence  on  toleration,  in  the  union  of  freedom  of  thought  with  reverence, 
 and  in  the  exercise  of  the  arts  of  self-government. 
 
 Toleration,  as  I  have  already  said,  we  do  not  owe  directly  to  Noncon- 
 formists. It  was  not  intended  by  the  original  Nonconformists  themselves; 
 but  their  persistence  in  maintaining  their  own  position,  and  their  impotence 
 in  attaining  anything  like  supremacy,  compelled  them  to  become  advocates 
 of  toleration,  and  therefore  we  do  owe  it  indirectly  to  them.  As  to  freedom 
 of  thought,  very  little  credit  can  be  given  to  those  denominations  who 
 associate  with  the  tenure  of  their  most  sacred  edifices  a  cut-and-dried  but 
 mouldering  creed,  believed  probably  by  not  one  in  a  hundred  of  their 
 congregation.  They  would  chain  men's  thoughts  if  they  could,  but  happily 
 they  have  found  it  to  be  impossible.  We  do  not  owe  freedom  of  thought, 
 any  more  than  toleration,  directly  to  Nonconformity  ;  but  indirectly  we 
 may,  because  where  a  number  of  sects  have  been  arguing  and  wrangling 
 together,  the  conviction  has  gradually  dawned  upon  a  practical  community 
 that  really  it  does  not  matter  very  much  what  people  say  about  these  things 
 so  long  as  they  act  lioncstly  and  uprightly  and  purely.  The  conviction 
 has  gradually  dawned  upon  the  country  that  it  is  perfectly  safe  to  allow 
 thought  to  be  free,  so  long  as  conduct  is  right ;  and  in  that  sense  we  owe 
 freedom  of  thought  indirectly  to  Nonconformists. 
 
 But  there  is  one  characteristic  of  our  English  freethought  which  we  owe 
 even  more  directly  to  Nonconformity,  and  that  is  its  alliance  with  a  spirit 
 of  reverence.  On  the  Continent  you  do  not  find  this  so  often.  There  for 
 the  most  part  the  power  of  establishments  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  mock- 
 ing scepticism  that  surrounds  them  on  the  other,  suggest  to  us  a  weight  of 
 solemn  humbug  on  the  one  side,  and  heartless  levity  on  the  other.  There 
 is  not  sufticient  appreciation  in  French  or  in  most  German  scepticism  of 
 the  enormous  moral  advantage  that  religious  struggles  have  given  to  the 
 workl.  But  in  this  country  of  ours,  the  variety  of  forms  prevailing  amongst 
 Nonconformists  and  the  sacrifices  that  they  have  been  ready  to  make  for 
 their  religious  convictions;  the  friction  that  has  been  created  amongst  these 
 various  opinions,  and  the  charity  that  has  gradually  been  forced  upon  the 
 holders  of  these  opinions,  one  towards  tlie  other,  have  all  united  to  bring 
 about  finally,  not  only  a  law  of  toleration  but  a  spirit  of  tolerance.  And, 
 moreover,  all  these  influences  have  tended  to  bring  about  a  conviction 
 that  all  forms  of  religion  have  had  some  meaning,  and  all  have  been  of 
 some  value  to  humanity.  Accordingly  in  this  country  the  progress  of 
 freethought  is  not  destructive  merely,  it  is  constructive  as  well.  AVe  have 
 learned  to  value  the  inspiration  given  in  past  times  by  religion  of  a  theo- 
 logical order ;  and  we  are  busily,  and  I  hope  not  without  fruit,  asking  now : 
 How  shall  this  inspiration  be  supplied  from  the  eternal  sources  of  truth 
 ever  open  in  the  visible  universe  itself? 
 
 Finally,  we  Anglo-Saxons  often  make  our  boast  that  we  are  better  capable 
 of  self-government  than  other  races  in  the  world.  Not  only  here  but  in 
 our  colonies  we  exhibit  both  imperial  and  municipal  institutions  in  which 
 
 VOL.    I. — pt.  2.  N  N 
 
530  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  rights  of  the  individual  are  for  the  most  part  carefully  observed  while 
 the  needs  of  the  community  are  insisted  upon.  Hardly,  however,  do 
 we  sufficiently  remember  one  of  the  sources  from  which  our  capacity  of 
 self-government  has  sprung.  The  source  I  allude  to  is  the  exercise  of 
 self-government  amongst  Nonconformist  churches.  When  first  Dissenters 
 from  the  Establishment  met  in  holes  and  corners  to  carry  on  their  own 
 worship,  or  the  various  charitable  undertakings  which  have  always  been 
 connected  with  religion,  they  had  no  official  authority  to  compel  any 
 one  to  keep  order — they  were  necessarily  dependent  on  each  other.  Each 
 brother  had  as  good  a  right  to  express  his  opinion  as  any  other.  They 
 could  only  rule  by  the  majority,  and  consequently  they  began  to  study 
 the  arts  of  selt'-government.  They  found  it  was  necessary  to  make  com- 
 promises one  with  the  other  ;  they  found  that  they  must  exercise  charity. 
 They  found  that  there  was  great  need  of  patience.  And  those  scorners 
 who  ridicule  and  laugh  at  the  squabbles  of  deacons  and  ministers  in 
 Nonconformist  bodies,  and  the  fights  between  various  sects  and  parties 
 in  ''little  Bethels,"  are  blind  indeed  if  they  do  not  perceive  that,  precisely 
 from  such  exercises  in  the  art  of  self-control  and  selfgovernment  as  were 
 given  in  these  apparently  ignoble  places,  has  gradually  been  developed  to 
 its  highest  possible  extent  the  power  of  self-government  possessed  by  the 
 English  people.  Remember,  these  little  self-governing  communities  were 
 scattered  throughout  the  land  for  hundreds  of  years  before  we  were  a  free 
 people  in  the  modern  sense  of  the  word ;  before  the  franchise  was  extended 
 to  every  household.  Undoubtedly  the  poor,  who  had  little  advantages  of 
 intellectual  culture,  owed  very  much  to  their  membershi[)  of  Methodist 
 chapels,  or  of  Independent  meeting  houses,  or  of  Baptist  churches,  in 
 various  parts  of  the  country,  where  they  squabbled  with  each  other  until 
 they  learned  to  bear  with  one  another  in  patience  and  charity. 
 
 On  the  whole,  then,  I  would  say  that  the  chief  value  that  we  should 
 assign  to  Nonconformity  in  the  history  of  this  country  is  not  on  account 
 of  the  theological  opinions  it  has  advocated,  or  the  theoretical  arguments 
 whereby  it  has  maintained  them  ;  but  rather  on  account  of  its  moral  and 
 political  activity.  And  they  who  ap[)raise  this  rightly  will  find  in  Noncon- 
 formity one  of  the  most  beneficent  factors  in  the  evolution  of  the  British 
 nation. 
 
53' 
 
 HISTORICAL    PRESBYTERIANISM. 
 
 By  David  Fotheringham, 
 Minislcr  of  St.  JoJtiCs  Presbyterian  Church,  Tottenham. 
 
 The  Reformation  forms  one  of  the  great  epochs  of  history.  It  was  sub- 
 stantiallv  a  transition  from  the  Middle  As^es  to  Modern  Times.  The  world 
 then  finished  one  stage  of  its  course,  and  entered  on  a  new  and  more 
 glorious  career.  Before  this  ])eriod  Popery  was  supreme  in  the 
 Church,  and  Feudalism  prevailed  in  the  State.  These  two  were  both 
 hostile  to  liberty;  and,  in  outward  appearance,  there  was  between  them  a 
 striking  resemblance.  At  the  head  of  the  State  there  was  a  despot,  and 
 under  him  there  was  a  long  succession  of  nobles,  barons,  knights,  and 
 squires,  bound  to  execute  his  will.  As  for  the  multitude  of  the  people, 
 they  were  of  little  more  estimation  than  the  goods  and  chattels  on  the 
 estates  to  which  they  belonged,  'i'hey  were  compelled  to  do  all  manner 
 of  work  for  their  superiors  in  time  of  peace,  and  to  fight  for  them  in  their 
 numerous  wars.  Nor  were  the  people  regarded  as  of  more  consequence 
 in  their  relation  to  the  Church.  They  had  no  spiritual  rights  accorded 
 them  :  they  were  sheep,  not  destined  to  be  fed,  but  to  be  shorn.  Over 
 them  also  was  a  clerical  caste,  rising  by  regular  gradation  from  the  humble 
 curate  or  parish  priest  to  the  Pope,  who  claimed  to  be  the  successor  of 
 the  apostle  Peter  and  the  vicar  of  Christ,  and,  in  this  capacity,  affected 
 to  perform  functions  and  exercise  an  authority  pertaining  rather  to  a 
 divine  being  than  to  any  mortal  man. 
 
 But  it  could  not  be  expected  that  the  nations  should  submit  for  ever  to 
 this  two-fold  yoke.  It  involved  a  species  of  slavery  nearly  as  degrading 
 as  that  which  has  cursed  the  dark  continent.  It  afforded  free  play  for 
 passions  of  the  darkest  hue,  and  it  was  maintained  by  privileged  orders  as 
 rapacious  as  they  were  cruel. 
 
 The  death-knell  of  this  hateful  system  was  rung  when  Luther  hammered 
 his  theses  on  the  churcli  door  of  Wittenberg,  on  the  31st  October, 
 15 1 7.  The  movement  inaugurated  by  this  daring  monk  was  purely 
 religious,  but  it  was  attended  by  political  as  well  as  ecclesiastical  results 
 which  transformed  society,  and  gave  birth  to  the  free  institutions  of  modern 
 times. 
 
 Luther  was  not  naturally  an  agitator  or  an  innovator  desiring  change 
 for  its  own  sake.  On  the  contrary,  he  had  conservative  tendencies, 
 and  might  have  been  expected  to  uphold  rather  than  destroy  existing 
 customs.  He  had  also  a  profound  reverence  for  the  Church,  of  which 
 he  was  a  devoted  son,  regarding  her  as  the  very  spouse  of  Christ ;  and  it 
 
532  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 was  his  burning  desire  that,  purified  from  lier  corruptions,  she  might  shine 
 forth,  according  to  the  scriptural  metaphor,  "fair  as  tlie  moon,  clear  as  the 
 sun,  and  terrible  as  an  army  with  baimers."  In  his  innocence  he 
 appealed  to  the  Papal  hierarchy  to  undertake  the  reformation  which  the 
 Church  so  much  needed  ;  but  they  were  deaf  to  his  remonstrances.  The 
 Pope  replied  by  a  bull  of  excommunication,  pronouncing  Luther  and  his 
 adherents  "  incorrigible  and  accursed  heretics,  whom  all  princes  and 
 magistrates  should  apprehend  and  send  to  Rome,  or  banish  from  the 
 country  in  which  they  happened  to  be  found."  It  was  then  the  die  was 
 cast.  Precluded  from  agitating  for  reform  within  the  Church  itself, 
 Luther  and  all  who  sympathized  with  him  were  driven  to  the  necessity  of 
 either  submitting  to  her  arbitrary  authority  or  continuing  their  work  out- 
 side her  pale.  It  was  not  without  a  i^ang  they  contemplated  severance 
 from  a  Church  which  inherited  splendid  traditions,  and  wielded  a  magic 
 power,  before  which  the  proudest  princes  had  quailed.  But  their  duty 
 was  plain.  To  yield,  would  have  been  treachery  to  their  own  religious 
 convictions  as  well  as  to  the  word  of  God,  which  they  acknowledged  as  of 
 supreme  authority  ;  and,  therefore,  in  the  sacred  name  of  truth  they  set 
 up  their  banners,  and,  proclaiming  their  revolt  against  a  corrupt  institution 
 which  refused  all  amendment,  they  constructed  new  societies  which  were 
 formed  on  the  foundations  laid  by  Christ  and  His  holy  Apostles. 
 
 In  this  departure  from  Rome  there  were  three  Churches  which  were 
 specially  prominent,  and  which  continue  with  unabated  vigour  to  the 
 present  day.  These  were  the  Church  of  England,  the  Lutheran  Church, 
 and  the  Reformed  or  Presbyterian  group  of  Churches.  These  tiirce  diil 
 not,  however,  all  march  abreast,  nor  did  they  all  travel  the  same  distance. 
 The  first  to  call  a  halt,  encamping  almost  within  sight  of  the  seven-hilled 
 city,  was  the  Church  of  England.  Hence  to  this  day  she  is  only  half 
 reformed.  Her  creed,  elaborated  by  sincere  Protestants  and  learned 
 divines,  is  sufficiently  orthodox  to  satisfy  the  most  Biblical  scholar  ;  but  it 
 is  to  a  great  e.xtent  neutralized  by  a  liturgy  which  i)ermits  a  belief  in 
 baptismal  regeneration,  and  allows  the  observance  of  the  Lord's  Supper  to 
 be  transformed  into  the  celebration  of  the  Romish  mass.  Her  retention 
 of  a  hierarchy,  too,  has  led  to  grave  abuses.  Her  ministers  are  separated 
 from  the  people  and  formed  into  a  class  by  themselves,  called  clerks  in 
 holy  orders.  They  naturally  assume  in  consequence  priestly  functions, 
 inconsistent  with  popular  rights ;  and  through  their  arrogance,  and  intoler- 
 ence,  towards  the  other  religious  denominations,  there  has  been  no  little 
 civil  as  well  as  social  dissension  in  the  country. 
 
 The  next  to  stop  on  the  journey  was  the  Church  founded  by  Luther. 
 Tliough  personally  an  ardent  Reformer,  and  ready  to  follow  truth  whither- 
 soever she  led  him,  his  conservative  instincts  prevented  him  casting  off 
 any  of  the  forms  or  customs  of  the  Church  in  which  he  was  reared,  except 
 such  as  were  expressly  condemned  by  the  Word  of  God.  Moreover, 
 becoming  alarmed  by  the  wild  excesses  of  some  Anabaptists,  who  attached 
 
HIS  7  ORICA L   PRESB  \  'TERIANIS}r.  533 
 
 tliemselves  to  the  skirts  of  liis  great  movement,  as  well  as  by  the  revolt  of 
 the  i)easants  against  their  oppressors,  he  withheld  all  valid  government  of 
 his  Church  from  the  people,  and  placed  it  in  the  hands  of  princes  and 
 civil  magistrates.  A  Church  formed  under  such  diverse  motives  was 
 necessarily  of  a  very  complex  character.  Her  doctrine  was  mainly  Pro- 
 testant ;  but  her  rites  and  ceremonies  were  largely  Popish,  while  her 
 government  was  thoroughly  Erastian.  It  was,  however,  in  her  favour  that 
 Luther  did  not  encourage  the  exaltation  of  any  of  the  ministers  over  their 
 brethren.  In  some  countries  where  the  Lutheran  Church  took  root,  a  class 
 was  formed  called  bishops  ;  but  they  were  and  are  mere  superintendents, 
 and  not  dispensers  of  grace  to  any  other  class  inferior  to  themselves. 
 
 The  party  that  advanced  furthest  in  the  march  from  Rome  was  the 
 Presbyterian.  Amongst  the  celebrated  chiefs  of  the  Reformation  who 
 assisted  in  formulating  their  principles  and  bringing  them  before  the 
 world,  the  first  place,  in  time,  is  due  to  Ulrich  Zwingli.  He  was  the  con- 
 temporary of  Luther,  but  was  in  no  sense  his  disciple  or  follower.  "  All 
 deference  to  Martin  Luther,"  he  once  observed,  "  but  what  we  have  in 
 common  with  him  we  knew  long  before  we  had  heard  his  name."  Zwingli 
 was  born  in  Switzerland  and  grew  u|)  an  ardent  patriot,  nourished  by  the 
 traditions  of  the  noble  deeds  of  his  ancestors,  and  loving  the  liberty  and 
 free  institutions  of  his  native  land. 
 
 As  the  Church  of  Rome  presented  many  openings  through  which  men 
 of  ability  and  enterprise  might  rise  to  the  highest  dignities,  as  well  as 
 to  wealth  and  power,  young  Ulrich,  on  account  of  his  quick  wit  and 
 budding  genius,  was  early  destined  to  the  priesthood.  While  preparing 
 for  this  sacred  office  he  had  the  unspeakable  advantage  of  receiving 
 a  good  education.  He  sat  at  the  feet  of  able  and  liberal-minded 
 professors,  and  he  proved  an  apt  and  diligent  pupil.  He  was  an 
 elegant  Latin  scholai-,  and  he  was  well  versed  in  classical  and  patristic 
 literature.  He  took  his  degree  of  ^LA.  when  he  was  twenty-two  years  of 
 age,  and  was  thereafter  appointed  priest  of  Glarus,  a  mountainous  parish: 
 in  a  canton  of  the  same  name,  in  his  native  country.  Here  he  proved  a 
 diligent  and  faithful  pastor  ;  but  his  duties  were  sufficiently  light  to  allow 
 him  time  to  continue  the  studies  for  which  he  had  been  distinguished  at 
 the  university.  He  also  applied  himself  to  Greek,  and  was  soon  able  to 
 read  the  New  Testament  in  the  tongue  in  which  it  was  originally  written. 
 This  proved  to  be  tlie  turning-point  in  his  life.  The  teaching  of  the 
 divine  book  touched  his  whole  being,  and  under  its  inspiring  influence  he 
 became  a  new  creature.  He  had  found  sweet  waters  in  many  a  volume 
 of  classic  lore,  but  they  had  never  satisfied  the  thirst  of  his  longing  soul. 
 Here,  however,  he  found  a  well  of  water  springing  up  into  everlasting  life, 
 and,  through  its  fulness,  all  his  wants  were  abundantly  supplied.  Now 
 that  his  eyes  were  opened  he  could  not  help  observing  that  the  Church  of 
 Rome  had  removed  an  immeasurable  distance  from  the  Church  of  the 
 Acts  and   the  Epistles ;  and,  as  his  convictions  became  rooted,  he  made 
 
534  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 them  known  to  his  humble  flock.  The  commotion  that  followed  was 
 great,  and  his  fame  spread  abroad.  His  reputation  became  known  to  the 
 dignitaries  of  the  Church  which  he  assailed,  and  it  was  proposed  to  silence 
 liim  by  flattery  rather  than  by  force.  Messages  of  regard  were  sent  to  him 
 by  a  special  ambassador  from  Rome,  in  which  the  Father  of  the  Church 
 styled  this  erring  priest  "his  beloved  son,"  and  the  highest  honours  the 
 Pope  could  bestow  were  literally  laid  at  the  heretic's  feet.  But  Zwingli 
 was  a  child  of  the  mountains,  wedded  to  the  simple  habits  of  his  country- 
 men, and  for  him  these  blandishments  had  no  attraction. 
 
 About  the  time  he  reached  the  vigour  of  his  manhood  he  was  asked  to 
 become  preacher  in  the  College  of  Canons  at  Zurich,  and  he  accepted  the 
 invitation.  During  his  ministry  here  he  was  assailed  by  many  enemies, 
 and  had  to  stand  like  a  man-at-arms  to  defend  himself  against  all  comers. 
 In  all  his  encounters  he  bore  himself  with  courage  and  magnanimity,  but 
 as  yet  there  was  no  worthy  tribunal  to  judge  between  him  and  his  adver- 
 saries. To  Pope  or  Council  there  lay  no  appeal,  for  he  was  already  judged 
 and  condemned.  In  these  circumstances  he  formulated  opinions  on  the 
 government  of  the  ("hurch,  in  which  we  find  the  germ  at  least  of  modern 
 Presbyterianism.  Accustomed  to  Republican  institutions,  in  which  affairs 
 of  State  were  administered  by  rulers  chosen  for  this  purpose  by  the 
 sovereign  people,  it  was  his  desire  to  set  up  a  corresponding  order  for 
 adjudication  in  spiritual  affairs.  But  the  time  was  not  yet  ripe  for  such 
 a  radical  change,  and  he  found  it  necessary,  therefore,  to  adapt  his  plans 
 to  existing  conditions  of  society,  ^^1^at  he  wanted  was  a  judicatory  truly 
 representing  the  people,  whose  authority,  in  the  last  degree,  he  preferred 
 to  any  other  tribunal.  Such  a  judicatory  he  discovered  in  the  Great  Coun- 
 cil of  Zurich.  It  was  an  elected  body,  and  it  represented  the  people  of  the 
 Canton.  The  line  of  demarcation  between  civil  and  spiritual  authority 
 was  not  then  well  understood  or  defined  ;  but  as  Zwingli  was  before  his 
 age  in  other  things,  so  in  his  views  on  this  subject  also,  he  held  doctrines 
 far  in  advance  of  his  contemporaries.  It  was  on  this  account  that,  in 
 determining  to  submit  his  cause  to  the  Creat  Council,  he  accompanied  the 
 off"er  with  conditions  binding  it  to  act,  not  as  a  civil  court,  but  in  a  spiritual 
 capacity.  His  words  were,  "  We,  the  preachers  of  the  Word  of  God  in 
 Zurich,  on  the  one  hand,  give  the  Council  of  Two  Hundred  plainly  to  under- 
 stand that  we  commit  to  them  that  which  properly  it  belongs  to  the  whole 
 (Jhurch  to  decide,  only  on  the  condition  that  in  their  consultations  and 
 conclusions  they  hold  themselves  to  the  Word  of  God  alone  ;  and,  on  the 
 other  hand,  that  they  only  act  so  far  in  the  name  of  the  Church  as  the 
 Cluirch  tacitly  and  voluntarily  adopts  their  conclusions  and  ordinances." 
 
 The  ])roi)Ositions  contained  in  this  pregnant  sentence  are  threefold,  and 
 they  embrace  the  principles  which  are  now  universally  attributed  to  genuine 
 i'resbyterianism.     They  declare, — 
 
 I.  That  it  belongs  to  the  Christian  people,  simply  as  believers,  to  decide 
 all  controversies  which  arise  within  the  Church. 
 
HISTORICAL  PRESBYTERIANISM.  535 
 
 2.  Tliat  it  is  expedient  for  Christian  people   to  elect  representatives  to 
 act  in  spiritual  matters,  on  their  behalf  and  in  their  name. 
 
 3.  That  it  is  the  duty  of  these  representatives  to  regulate  their  conduct 
 by  the  sole  authority  of  the  Word  of  God. 
 
 It    is  a  pleasure  to   think,  and    it  is    only  just  to  state,   that  modern 
 Presbyterianism,  which  is  the  purest  form  of  Republicanism,  was  brought 
 into  being  as  a  living  and  practicable  form  of  Church  order  in   democratic 
 Switzerland.     The  free  Cantons  furnished  an  excellent  example  both  of 
 what  it  is,  and  what  it  should  be;  and  probably,   had  Zwingli's  hfe  been 
 longer  spared,  he  would  have  developed  a  complete  system  of  ecclesiasti- 
 cal government  on  the  models  which  he  admired,  and  with  which  he  was 
 so  familiar.      I>ut  it  was  not  to  be.    Whilst  he  was  still  in  the  flower  of  his 
 age,   a  religious  war  was    kindled  among  the  Cantons  tiiemselves.     The 
 advocates   of  the  old  order  determined   to  bring   back  the  sister  States, 
 which  had  embraced  the  new  faith,  to  their  former  allegiance  to  the  Church 
 of  Rome.     In  the  war  which  ensued,  Zurich  led  the  van  on  the  Protestant 
 side.     Zwingli  was  appointed  chaplain,  and  accompanied  the  army  to  the 
 field.     While   in   the  act  of  performing  his  duties,  he  stooped  down  to 
 breathe  some  words  of  consolation  into  the  ear  of  a  dying  soldier,  and  was 
 at  the  same  moment  struck  by  a  stone  which  felled  him  to  the  ground.    In 
 attempting  to  rise,  he  received  a  fatal  stab  from  a  spear,  and  the  blood 
 flowed  copiously  from  the  wound.   "  What  matters  it  ?  "  said  he,  "  they  may 
 kill  the  body,  but  they  cannot  kill  the  soul."     These  were  the  last  words 
 of  this  celebrated  Reformer."     He  was  only  forty-six  when  this  catastrophe 
 took  place,  and  his  death   at  this  early  age  was  deeply  lamented.     His  in- 
 fluence was  great  among  those  who  could  not  accept  the  dogma  of  consub- 
 stantiation.     As   Paul  rebuked  Peter,   because  he  was  to  be  blamed,   so 
 Zwingli  had  joined  in  controversy  with  Luther  on  this  vexed  topic,  and  had 
 no  need  to  be  ashamed  of  the  result.     He  was  not  only  a  polished  scholar 
 and  a  learned  divine,  but   he  had   the   (qualities   which   constitute  a  great 
 statesman.     Before  his  death  he  was  using  his  utmost  endeavours  to  draw 
 the  rulers  who  were  favourable  to  Protestantism  into  a  league  for  the  de- 
 fence of  their  just  liberties;  but  persecution  had  not  yet   driven  the  iron 
 sufticiently  deep  into  their  souls  to  rouse  them  from  their  apathy. 
 
 With  his  death  this  scheme  fell  to  the  ground,  and  many  of  his  friends 
 thought  that  the  work  of  Reformation  too,  in  which  he  had  taken  such  an 
 active  part,  was  permanently  arrested.  But  it  was  otherwise  ordered. 
 When  this  actor  disappeared  from  the  arena,  another  was  preparing  to 
 enter  it  who  not  only  took  up  the  work  of  his  predecessor  but  carried  it  to 
 a  height  of  which  the  original  labourer  had  scarcely  formed  a  conception. 
 For  an  introduction  to  the  successor  of  Zwingli  as  chief  of  the  Reformed 
 section  of  the  Protestant  Churches,  the  scene  changes  from  republican 
 Switzerland  to  monarchical  France.  About  the  beginning  of  the  i6th 
 century,  a  certain  Gerard  Chauvin,  a  man  of  Norman  extraction,  had  his 
 home  in   Noyon,  the   seat  of  a  bishopric  in   Picardy.     He  was  a  shrewd 
 
536  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 lawyer,  and  held  two  important  appointments,  as  Apostolic  Notary,  and 
 Secretary  to  the  Bishop.     To  this  man  was  born  a  son,  on  the    loth  of 
 July,    1509,  who  received  the  name  of  John.     From    his  birth  he  was 
 <lelicate,  and  he  grew  up  a  shy  and  reserved  boy.     But   he  showed  un- 
 common intellectual  gifts,   and    so    Gerard,    with   true  fatherly  instincts, 
 destined  him  for  the  Church ;  and,  to  prepare  him  for  a  good  start  in  the 
 sacred   profession,    he   determined  also    to    give   him    the  best   possible 
 education.   Fortunately,  he  had  sufficient  influence  to  get  the  lad  instructed 
 with  the  sons  of  the  chief  Baron,  residing  in  that  neighbourhood  ;  and 
 through  his  courteous  bearing  and  polished  manners,  John  ever  afterwards 
 showed  the  advantages  which  he  had  reaped  from  this  superior  training. 
 But  education  of  this  kind  was  costly,  and  the  prudent  Secretary  bethought 
 himself  of  ways  and  means  to   meet  the   expense.     A   small  chaplaincy 
 falling  vacant  in  the  See  of  Noyon,    Gerard  persuaded  the  bishop  to   pre- 
 sent the  boy  to  the  living,  and,  from  the  day  of  his  appointment,  he  drew 
 the  stipend.     Nor  was  this  the  only  piece  of  ecclesiastical  patronage,  from 
 which  he  benefited.     He  also  succeeded  at  a  later  period  to  the  curacy  of 
 Pont  I'Eveque,  in  Normand}',   and  derived  a  modest  income  from  that 
 appointment.     True,  the  boy  could  not  perform  any  of  the  duties ;  but,  in 
 those  easy-going  times,  the  managing  lawyer  found  no  difficulty  in  provid- 
 ing for  this  contingency.     The  youthful  John  was  thus  early  introduced  to 
 the  ranks  of  the  priesthood,  for  though  he  was  never  ordained,  he  received 
 the  tonsure,  and  thus  set  his  foot  on  the  first  round  of  a  ladder  leading  to 
 the  highest  posts  which  the  Church  had  to  bestow.     At  the  age  of  fourteen 
 he  proceeded  to  Paris  and  entered  La  Marche,  a  college  celebrated  for 
 the  prelections  of  Cordier,  a  professor  who  was  justly  esteemed  the  most 
 elegant  Latin  scholar  of  that  time.     It  rarely  happens  that  a   youth  from 
 the  provinces  maintains  at  a  public  University  the  reputation  acquired  at 
 his  early  home  ;  but  the  notary's  son   exceeded  all   the   hopes  previously 
 entertained  concerning  him.     At  this  college   he  was  called  Calvin,  the 
 Latinized  form  of  his  patronymic;  and  it  was  by  that  name  he  was  afterwards 
 distinguished. 
 
 While  pursuing  his  studies  in  Paris,  his  views  underwent  a  change 
 which  affected  the  whole  current  of  his  after  life.  Thouqh  a  devout 
 Roman  Catholic,  omitting  no  duty  prescribed  by  the  most  rigid  disciplin- 
 arian of  the  Church,  he  became  dissatisfied  with  his  spiritual  condition. 
 Yet  before  man  he  was  blameless.  He  was  not  touched  by  any  slain  of 
 vice ;  and  his  passions  as  well  as  his  intellect  were  under  the  control  of  a 
 strong  will  which  inclined  to  righteousness.  Nevertheless  he  was  not 
 happy.  Li  this  state  of  mind  he  happened  to  turn  to  the  Nesv  Testament. 
 He  may  have  searched  it  before,  for  proof-texts  to  support  the  dogmas  of 
 the  Church's  faith;  but  now  he  used  it  as  a  means  of  grace  for  his  distressed 
 soul.  Suddenly  the  scales  fell  from  his  eyes.  He  found  in  tiiis  book  a 
 righteousness  with  which  God  is  well  pleased,  even  the  perfect  work  of 
 Jesus  Christ,  and  appropriating  it  as  his  own,  by  a  living  faith,  he  entered 
 
HISTORICAL  r RESUYTERIANI SM .  537 
 
 into  a  peace  to  which  he  was  formerly  a  stranger.  In  after  years  he  grappled 
 with  the  deepest  problems  involved  in  the  Christian  religion,  and  had  many 
 doubts  and  fears;  but  he  watched  carefully  the  operations  of  his  own  mind, 
 and  never  saw  reason  to  question  the  genuineness  of  the  conversion  which 
 lie  underwent  in  his  youth.  About  the  same  time,  apparently  at  the  request 
 of  his  father,  he  went  first  to  Orleans  and  then  to  Bourges,  to  study  law.  '1  o 
 this  fascinating  subject  he  added  the  acquirement  of  a  knowledge  of  the 
 (Ireek  tongue,  and  became  familiar  with  the  productions  of  the  Evangelists 
 and  Apostles  in  the  dialect  in  which  they  were  originally  written.  ^Vhen  he 
 was  abou:  twenty,  his  father  died  ;  and  feeling  free  then  to  follow  the  bent 
 of  his  own  genius,  he  returned  to  Paris  and  devoted  himself  to  Academic 
 pursuits.  At  this  time  there  was  a  great  fermentation  in  the  capital  as 
 well  as  in  many  of  the  chief  towns  of  France.  Earnest  men  appeared 
 here  and  there,  both  within  the  Church's  pale  and  without  it ;  and  while 
 some  inveighed  against  the  errors  of  Popery,  others  preached  the  simple 
 •doctrines  of  a  purer  faith.  The  Church  launched  her  thunderbolts  and  the 
 king  issued  edicts  against  these  innovators,  but  their  number  continued 
 to  increase.  Several  were  consumed  at  the  stake  ;  but  their  ashes  were 
 scarcely  cold  before  others  stepped  forward  to  fill  up  the  ranks  which  had 
 been  thinned  by  their  martyrdom.  Calvin  was  not  idle  at  this  juncture, 
 but  the  path  he  chose  for  himself  was  of  the  humblest  order.  Shunning 
 the  debates  of  the  forum,  he  glided  from  house  to  house,  instructing 
 families  in  the  word  of  God.  Possessing  agreeable  manners,  and  having  a 
 faculty  for  ready  speech  and  clear  exposition,  he  persuaded  and  convinced, 
 and  thus  made  many  converts.  But,  though  desiring  to  remain  unseen,  he 
 could  not  be  hidden.  Indeed,  from  the  first  moment  that  he  embraced 
 evangelical  truth  he  became  the  centre  as  well  as  the  chief  figure  of 
 the  Reformation  in  France.  But  while  his  solid  learning  and  his  humility, 
 his  unaffected  piety  and  his  commanding  abilities  gained  the  ready  homage 
 of  his  friends,  the  same  qualities  inspired  his  enemies  with  fear  and  filled 
 them  with  rage.  For  this  reason  he  flitted  from  place  to  place  to  save  his 
 life.  Now  we  find  him  south  of  the  Loire,  and  then  north  in  Normandy. 
 But  wherever  he  went  he  pursued  the  same  mode  of  life.  He  devoted  his 
 chief  strength  to  study,  and  what  time  he  could  spare  he  spent  in  evangelis- 
 tic labours.  During  all  this  time  he  had  not  formally  broken  with  Rome  ; 
 but  when  he  reached  his  twenty-sixth  year  he  stood  at  the  parting  of  the 
 ways,  and  was  obliged  to  decide  as  to  the  hand  to  which  he  should  turn. 
 At  this  age,  according  to  the  practice  of  the  Roman  Church,  it  was  required 
 that  he  should  either  renounce  the  livings  to  which  he  was  appointed  when 
 a  boy,  or  be  ordained  to  the  priesthood.  There  were  not  wanting  timid 
 friends  who  advised  him  to  retain  his  charges  and  become  a  Reformer 
 within  the  Church's  communion;  but  Calvin  was  too  sagacious  to  be  im- 
 posed upon  by  such  specious  counsel,  and  he  was  too  decided  a  character 
 to  yield  to  any  compromise.  "  Not  one,  but  a  hundred  benefices,'  he 
 said,  "  would  I  give  up,  rather  than  make  myself  the   Pope's  vassal."     Ac- 
 
538  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 cordingly  he  repaired  to  Noyon,  and  in  true  lawyer-like  fashion,  in  the  pre- 
 sence of  the  proper  officials,  he  resigned  both  his  chaplaincy  and  his  curacy. 
 This  was  Calvin's  farewell  to  Rome.  Tiiis  act  was  like  the  conduct 
 of  a  general  who  burns  his  bridges  to  cut  off  all  hope  of  retreat  from  the 
 army  under  his  command.  Henceforth  he  cast  in  his  lot  with  the  despised 
 Protestants,  prepared  for  all  risks,  from  the  prison  to  the  martyr's  crown. 
 
 It  was  at  this  time  he  set  about  a  task  which  he  had  long  revolved,  and  for 
 which  he  had  prepared  himself  both  in  Paris  and  in  Angouleme  when  fleeing 
 from  persecution.  Observing  that  the  most  revolting  crimes  as  well  as  doc- 
 trines were  imputed  to  the  Protestants,  sometimes  wilfully,  and  sometimes 
 ignorantly,  he  determined  to  draw  up  a  treatise  in  which  he  could  show  to 
 the  world  what  the  faith  was  for  which  they  were  contending.  He  was  well 
 aware  also  that  a  work  of  this  kind  would  be  useful  to  the  Protestants 
 themselves.  Though  many  of  them  could  die  for  their  religion,  they 
 could  not  all  defend  it.  He  wished  therefore  to  ])ut  in  their  hands,  not  a 
 creed  merely,  nor  a  confession,  but  a  popular  statement  of  Christian  truth, 
 drawn  directly  from  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  proved  to  be  as  much  ii> 
 accordance  with  right  reason  as  it  was  adapted  to  the  deepest  human  need. 
 He  desired,  in  fine,  to  adduce  evidence  beyond  all  contradiction,  that  though 
 the  Reformers  had  abandoned  the  communion  of  the  Romish  Church,  they 
 were  neither  fanatics  nor  schismatics,  but  were  in  the  true  line  of  succession 
 of  the  Church  of  the  Apostles,  from  which  the  Church  of  Rome  had  im- 
 measurably swerved.  To  carry  out  this  project,  he  retired  to  Basle,  and 
 living  in  seclusion  there  from  one  to  two  years,  devoted  himself  entirely 
 to  this  work.  It  was  completed  and  published  in  the  year  1536,  when 
 the  author  was  only  twenty-seven;  and  from  the  moment  it  appeared,  young 
 as  he  was,  it  was  felt  that  he  deserved  the  foremost  place  in  the  Protestant 
 ranks,  and  that  honour  was  ungrudgingly  assigned  to  him.  Above  all,, 
 Rome  detected  in  him  her  chief  adversary  ;  and,  henceforth,  it  was  against 
 Calvin  she  directed  her  heaviest  artillery.  The  Protestants  of  every  shade 
 now  also  learned  that  they  had  a  faith  worthy  of  their  most  costly  sacrifices. 
 Whilst  the  enthusiasm  of  revolt  against  grievous  abuses  lasts,  men  may 
 fight  for  negations ;  but  when  the  first  fiush  of  zeal  has  passed,  they  need 
 positive  priiicii)les  by  which  they  can  live,  and  for  which  they  should  be 
 prepared  to  die.  This  was  the  great  service  which  Calvin  rendered  to 
 Protestantism.  His  book  was  hailed  with  delight  all  over  Europe.  It  brought 
 light  to  them  that  were  in  darkness,  it  confirmed  the  wavering,  and  it  sup- 
 plied a  bond  of  unity  to  all  who  agreed  with  him  in  his  views  of  divine 
 truth.  Nor  was  it  easy  to  gainsay  the  conclusions  which  he  sought  to 
 establish.  This  was  largely  owing  to  the  method  of  reasoning  which  he 
 adopted.  As  tliere  were  Reformers  before  the  Reformation,  so  Calvin  was 
 an  inductive  philosopher  before  Lord  Bacon  was  born,  and  he  rigorously 
 followed  the  logic  imputed  to  that  father  of  modern  scientists.  Forsaking 
 the  scholastic  forms,  which  delighted  in  framing  theses  from  a  man's  inner 
 consciousness,  and  then  defending  them  by  stiff  and  irrational   syllogisms. 
 
HISTORICAL  PRESBYTERIANISM.  539 
 
 Calvin  surveyed  the  whole  range  of  inspired  literature  with  a  calm  and 
 clear  eye ;  and  then,  having  collected  his  facts,  he  classified  them  and 
 educed  the  principles  to  which  they  indubitably  pointed.  The  Institutes 
 of  the  Christian  Religion,  as  he  styled  his  book,  was  thus  a  great  as  well  as 
 an  original  work.  It  exercised  a  paramount  influence  when  it  first  ap- 
 peared, and  the  impression  it  then  produced  is  not  yet  exhausted.  Though 
 he  had  no  predecessor  in  the  field,  he  has  had  many  successors.  Some  of 
 these  have  here  and  there  subjected  the  facts  to  a  closer  scrutiny,  or 
 arranged  them  according  to  an  improved  order,  or  even  given  them  a 
 truer  interpretation  ;  but  the  work  of  the  great  master  has  never  been  com- 
 pletely superseded.  Considering  the  important  place  given  to  the  history 
 of  the  founding  and  constitution  of  the  Cimrch  in  the  ^Vord  of  God,  it  was 
 to  be  expected  that  Calvin  would  not  overlook  this  subject,  and  we  find 
 accordingly  that  he  has  devoted  to  it  about  a  third  of  his  book. 
 
 Though  the  word  Presbyterian  does  not  even  occur  in  the  Institutes,  it 
 can  be  easily  shown  tliat  the  essential  characteristics  distinguishing  the 
 group  of  Churches  to  which  this  name  is  applied  are  contained  in  the 
 chapters  dealing  with  this  subject,  and  it  may  therefore  now  be  expedient 
 to  state  these  characteristics  in  order,  as  well  as  to  show  their  origin  and 
 the  benefits  derived  from  their  adoption. 
 
 1.  Presbyterianism  pays  due  regard  to  the  members  of  the  Church,  and 
 secures  them  in  the  enjoyment  of  their  spiritual  rights  and  privileges. 
 Tliey  are  esteemed  as  the  children  of  God,  and,  as  such,  they  are  entitled 
 to  the  administration  of  all  means  of  grace,  including  admission  to  divine 
 ordinances.  Though  they  are  not  rulers  themselves,  the  right  of  govern- 
 ment springs  from  them  :  for  it  is  by  their  suffrages  that  any  of  their  num- 
 ber are  raised  to  office,  and  to  them  those  who  exercise  authority  usually 
 report  their  proceedings.  It  will  thus  be  observed  that  there  is  no  radical 
 distinction  between  the  electors  and  their  rulers.  They  belong  to  the 
 same  class  and  substantially  enjoy  the  same  advantages.  Among  Presby- 
 terians, therefore,  the  invidious  division  into  clergy  and  laity  has  no  place ; 
 and  due  provision  is  made  to  preserve  the  even  balance  of  power  between 
 the  holders  of  office  and  the  people. 
 
 2.  The  next  important  point  in  Presbyterianism  is  ministerial  parity. 
 
 From  the  use  of  two  words  in  the  New  Testament  employed  to  desig- 
 nate those  who  held  spiritual  office  in  the  Primitive  Church  it  was  main- 
 tained by  the  theologians  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  in  this  respect 
 they  are  followed  by  Prelatists  generally,  that  the  priesthood  consists  of 
 three  orders,  viz.,  Bishops,  Presbyters,  and  Deacons.  The  deacons  formed 
 an  inferior  class,  being  debarred  from  the  exercise  of  certain  rites,  such  as 
 the  consecration  of  the  sacramental  elements  and  pronouncing  absolution. 
 The  presbyters  enjoyed  greater  privileges  than  the  deacons,  but  were  sub- 
 ordinate to  the  bishops,  who  exercised  authority  over  dioceses  and  adminis- 
 tered ordination  both  to  those  who  were  received  into  their  own  order  and 
 
 « 
 
 to  the  other  two  orders  inferior  to  themselves. 
 
540  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Calvin  agreed  with  his  adversaries  in  regarding  the  deacons  as  a  distinct 
 order  in  the  Church  ;  but  he  maintained  that  their  oftlce  was  secular,  and 
 not  spiritual.  Tiieir  duty,  he  explained,  was  to  take  the  oversight  of  the 
 temporal  affairs  of  the  congregations  only ;  and  in  this  contention  he  has 
 been  followed  by  all  sound  Presbyterians. 
 
 But  the  chief  conflict  raged  around  the  position  which  Calvin  took 
 up  regarding  bishops  and  presbyters.  He  zealously  maintained  that  the 
 presbyter  was  qualified  to  perform  every  spiritual  duty  required  of  a 
 minister  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  denied  that  there  was  any  valid  ground  for 
 the  distinction  between  his  oflice  and  that  of  a  bishop.  He  admitted  the 
 use  of  the  two  words,  Bishop  and  Presbyter,  in  the  New  Testament,  to 
 represent  men  who  were  engaged  in  spiritual  service ;  but  he  showed  that 
 they  were  used  interchangeably,  and  as  they  therefore  designated  one  and 
 the  same  oflice,  there  was  an  equality  among  all  those  who  held  that  ofiice. 
 Great  objection  was  taken  to  this  doctrine  of  ministerial  parity,  and  the 
 controversy  has  since  been  carried  on  with  considerable  asperity  on  both 
 sides.  But,  as  discussion  proceeds  and  candour  grows,  the  best  scholars 
 are  coming  to  be  of  Calvin's  opinion.  No  one  could  suspect  Gibbon  of 
 partiality  to  Presbyterian  vievvs,  yet  he  ol^served  that  "the  two  api^ellations 
 Bishops  and  Presbyters  appear,  in  their  first  origin,  to  have  distinguished 
 the  same  office  and  the  same  order  of  persons."  But  a  greater  authority 
 on  this  subject  is  Dr.  Lightfoot,  the  late  Bishop  of  Durham,  who  was  one 
 of  the  most  exact  and  learned  scholars  of  the  present  age.  Though  a 
 member  of  the  Episcopal  bench  himself,  he  abandoned  the  ancient  line  of 
 <lefence  of  his  order,  remarking,  "  It  is  a  fact  now  generally  recognised  by 
 theologians  of  all  shades  of  opinion,  that,  in  the  language  of  the  New  Testa- 
 ment, the  same  officer  in  the  Church  is  called  indifferently  Bishop  and  Elder." 
 Nothing  more  need  be  said  on  the  subject.  Whatever  authority  may  be 
 found  for  Episcopacy  from  the  practice  of  the  Cliurch  after  apostolic  times 
 we  care  not.  Our  appeal  does  not  lie  to  fallible  men  like  ourselves,  but  to 
 teachers  and  guides  who  claimed  to  speak  as  the  Spirit  gave  them  utter- 
 ance. Nor  can  we  forget,  in  such  a  case  as  this,  the  emphatic  declaration 
 of  our  Lord,   "One  is  your  Master,  even  Christ,  and  all  ye  are  brethren." 
 
 3.  The  third  distinctive  feature  of  Presbyterianism  is  the  association  of 
 ruling  elders  with  the  minister  who  ])reaches  and  dispenses  the  sacraments. 
 The  great  danger  of  the  Church  arises  from  the  tendency,  not  to  say  the 
 ambition,  of  ministers  to  constitute  themselves  lords  over  God's  heritage, 
 arrogating  to  themselves  the  power  of  dispensing  grace,  or  the  right  of 
 exercising  discipline  according  to  their  own  pleasure.  Presbyterianism 
 places  an  insuperable  barrier  in  the  way  of  any  attempt  of  this  kind.  In 
 the  management  of  congregational  affairs  there  can  never  be  less  than  two 
 elders  jjrcsent  with  the  minister,  while  in  superior  courts  care  is  taken  tliat 
 there  sliall  always  be  at  least  a  numerical  ecjuality.  These  elders  are  the 
 very  backbone  of  the  Presbyterian  system.  They  are  the  elite  of  the 
 congregations,  and  are  chosen  for  high  qualifications,  such  as  piety,  zeal. 
 
HISTORICAL   PRESDYTERIANISM.  541 
 
 wisdom,  or  conspicuous  ability.  They  are,  generally  speaking,  shrewd  and 
 enterprising  gentlemen,  engaged  in  secular  pursuits,  and,  though  they  up- 
 hold the  minister  in  his  proper  sphere,  they  are  the  very  last  persons  to 
 permit  him  to  lord  it  over  the  flock,  or  assume  priestly  functions. 
 
 4.  The  last  distinctive  characteristic  of  Presbyterianism  is  organic 
 unity. 
 
 The  first  example  of  such  unity  is  found  in  the  congregation.  The 
 peo[)le  who  join  its  membership  form  a  brotherhood  having  equal  rights 
 and  privileges.  This  congregation  manages  its  own  affairs,  through  its 
 elders  and  deacons ;  and  due  care  is  taken  that  there  shall  be  no  encroach- 
 ment on  its  independence.  The  Elders'  Court  passes  by  different  names, 
 but  in  our  country  it  is  called  the  Session.  Presbyterianism,  however,  re- 
 quires that  congregations  existing  in  the  same  district  should  be  confede- 
 rated for  ]:)urposes  common  to  the  whole ;  and,  when  this  combination  is 
 formed,  tliey  are  all  placed  under  a  Court  consisting  of  an  equal  number 
 of  ministers  and  ruling  elders,  and  these  represent  the  Sessions  which 
 preside  over  the  congregations.  In  our  country  this  court  is  called  a 
 Presbytery,  and  it  renders  important  services  to  all  the  congregations 
 within  its  bounds.  It  exercises  a  brotherly  supervision  over  them, 
 strengthening  the  weak,  preventing  scandal  and  strife,  and  encouraging  all 
 in  the  due  performance  of  their  spiritual  duties. 
 
 Rising  by  gradation  above  the  Presbyteries  are  Provincial  Synods  and 
 General  Assemblies.  As  their  names  indicate,  these  differ  in  accordance 
 with  the  areas  of  which  they  have  the  oversight,  the  Synod  exercising 
 authority  over  several  Presbyteries  included  in  its  bounds,  while  the  juris- 
 diction of  the  Assembly  extends  to  the  whole  of  the  country  in  which  the 
 Church  is  situated.  But  they  differ  also  in  constitution.  The  membership 
 of  the  Synod  is  drawn  from  the  Sessions  in  the  same  way  as  the  members 
 of  a  Presbytery,  while  the  membership  of  the  Assembly  is  composed  of  an 
 equal  number  of  elders  and  ministers  chosen  by  the  Presbyteries  as  their 
 representatives. 
 
 Py  such  a  combination  a  real  unity  is  established  among  the  congrega- 
 tions belonging  to  a  particular  Church.  As  members  of  an  organic  body, 
 they  form  a  true  brotherhood  and  take  an  interest  in  each  other's  welfare. 
 In  some  instances  the  links  which  weld  them  together  are  so  close  that 
 they  all  contribute  to  a  common  fund  from  which  the  ministers'  stipends 
 are  paid.  By  such  an  arrangement  the  poorest  congregation  gets  the 
 benefit  of  the  services  of  a  thoroughly  qualified  pastor;  and,  as  at  the  same 
 time  due  care  is  taken  that  it  does  not  shirk  its  own  duty  up  to  the  measure 
 of  its  ability,  its  independence  and  self-respect  are  sufficiently  maintained. 
 
 In  the  same  way,  the  unity  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  affords  ample 
 security  for  the  administration  of  justice.  By  a  fundamental  law  of  her 
 constitution  it  is  we'll  known  that  the  humblest  member  of  any  congrega- 
 tion may  approach  all  the  courts,  from  the  Session  to  the  General  Assembly, 
 to  state  a  complaint,  or  ask  redress  for  some  grievance.     It  may  happen 
 
542  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 that  in  the  first  instance,  from  personal  animosities,  justice  may  fail ;  but 
 in  the  superior  courts,  which  are  free  from  local  prejudices,  it  is  uniformly 
 obtained. 
 
 It  only  remains  to  add  that,  in  the  fertile  imagination  of  Calvin  the  idea 
 was  revolved  of  extending  this  organic  unity  far  beyond  the  congregations 
 in  a  given  country.  He  sighed  for  a  time  when  all  the  Churches  of  the 
 world  could  be  confederated  for  mutual  counsel  and  help.  Writing  to 
 Archbishop  Cranmer,  who  had  invited  him  to  attend  a  Conference  of 
 divines  of  various  Churches,  proposed  to  be  held  in  London,  to  assist  in 
 drawing  up  a  sound  Protestant  Constitution  for  the  Church  of  England, 
 he  said,  "One  of  the  greatest  evils  of  the  time  is  that  the  Churches  are 
 so  widely  separated  from  each  other,  that  there  is  not  even  a  temporal  or 
 human  intercourse  carried  on  between  them.  .  .  .  The  body  of  Christ 
 is  torn  asunder  because  the  members  are  separated.  So  far  as  I  am  con- 
 cerned, if  I  can  be  of  any  use  I  will  readily  pass  over  ten  seas  to  effect  the 
 object  in  view.  .  .  .  ^Vhen  our  purpose  is  to  unite  the  sentiments  of 
 all  good  and  learned  men,  and  so,  according  to  the  rule  of  Scrii)ture,  to 
 bring  the  separated  Churches  into  one,  neither  labour  nor  trouble  of  any 
 kind  ought  to  be  spared." 
 
 This  devout  aspiration  was  not  only  not  realized  in  Calvin's  life-time, 
 but  it  was  doomed  to  lie  dormant  for  more  than  300  years.  But  it  con- 
 tained a  vital  germ,  and  within  the  last  quarter  of  the  present  century  it 
 has  burst  forth  and  borne  magnificent  fruit.  A  Ceneral  Council  was  held 
 in  Edinburgh  in  the  year  1877,  at  which  representatives  from  most  of  the 
 Presbyterian  Churches  in  the  world  were  present,  and  at  which  an  alliance 
 was  formed  for  mutual  encouragement  and  co-operation  in  their  common 
 work.  Three  meetings  have  been  held  since,  one  in  Philadelphia,  another 
 in  P>elfast,  and  the  last  in  London  ;  and  arrangements  are  now  made  for 
 their  periodical  return  once  every  three  or  four  years.  In  constituting  this 
 Council  the  crowning  of  the  edifice  of  Presbyterian  unity  was  accomplished. 
 All  Churches  belonging  to  this  family  are  now  welded  into  a  compact 
 body;  and,  as  they  are  all  animated  by  a  kindred  spirit,  tiiey  work  together 
 for  the  common  good,  and,  if  necessity  arises,  they  will  also  stand  by  one 
 another  when  threatened  with  a  common  danger.  The  efifect  of  this 
 union,  even  within  the  last  fifteen  years,  has  been  truly  grand.  It  has 
 given  a  fresh  impulse  to  some  of  the  struggling  Churches  on  the  Continent 
 of  Europe  ;  and  those  of  them  which  were  persecuted  and  ready  to  perish, 
 knowing  the  strength  of  the  forces  behind  them,  and  warmed  by  the  breath 
 of  brotherly  sympathy,  have  risen  to  vindicate  their  rights  and  demand 
 independence. 
 
 Considering  the  lofty  conceptions  of  Church  organization  which  Calvin 
 entertained,  and  expounded  in  a  variety  of  forms,  it  sounds  like  irony  to 
 say  that,  in  Geneva,  where  he  exercised  his  own  ministry,  they  were  not 
 fully  put  into  practice.  This  arose  from  the  peculiarity  of  the  civil  govern- 
 ment of  the  city  and   the  factious  opposition  which  he  encountered  from 
 
HISTORICAL  PRESBYTERIANISM.  543 
 
 some  of  the  rulers.  Nevertheless,  he  did  a  great  work  in  that  little  Re- 
 public. Under  his  influence  the  city,  which  was  formerly  notorious  for  its 
 profligacy,  became  as  distinguished  for  its  sobriety  and  sanctity.  Strangers 
 flocked  to  it  from  all  quarters,  some  to  find  a  refuge  from  the  persecutions 
 which  prevailed  in  their  own  countries,  and  others  simply  to  sit  at  the  feet 
 of  Calvin  and  be  taught  by  him.  From  this  city,  too,  as  from  a  watch- 
 tower,  for  a  period  of  about  twenty  years,  he  surveyed  the  conflict  raging 
 between  Popery  and  the  reformed  Churches,  and,  as  occasion  required,  he 
 guided  the  course  of  the  batde.  The  advocates  of  the  Reformed  Faith 
 were  dear  to  him.  He  pleaded  for  them,  he  gave  them  wise  advice,  he 
 rejoiced  witli  them  in  their  prosperity,  and  he  sympathized  with  them  in 
 their  distress.  It  was  thus  that  the  broad  stamp  of  his  genius  was  first 
 attached  to  the  badners  of  these  Churches,  and  remains  conspicuously 
 displayed  to  the  present  hour. 
 
 Literally  worn  out  with  labours,  Calvin  died  at  the  early  age  of  fifty-four, 
 in  the  year  1564.  By  his  own  directions  he  was  buried  as  a  simple  citizen 
 in  the  common  cemetery  of  Geneva ;  and  not  a  stone  or  memorial  of  any 
 kind  was  erected  over  the  spot  to  show  where  his  ashes  were  interred. 
 Many  eulogiums  have  been  pronounced  over  liim  by  famous  men  in  sym- 
 pathy with  his  views  ;  but  nothing  can  exceed  the  tribute  of  praise  rendered 
 to  his  memory  by  Ernest  Renan,  an  author  at  issue  with  him  in  many  of 
 his  distinctive  principles.  He  says  : — "  In  an  age  and  in  a  country  which 
 called  for  a  reaction  towards  simple  Christianity,  Calvin  succeeded  because 
 he  was  the  most  Christian  man  of  his  generation." 
 
 The  system  of  government  as  well  as  of  doctrine  recommended  by 
 Calvin  was  adopted  by  many  Protestant  communities  throughout  the  con- 
 tinent of  Europe ;  and  though  they  have  all  passed  through  trying  vicissi- 
 tudes, the  majority  of  them  remain  to  this  day.  There  are  no  less  than 
 twenty-six  fully  organized  Churches  of  this  tyi)e,  representing  continental 
 countries,  in  alliance  with  the  General  Council,  while  there  are  single  con- 
 creaations  here  and  there  of  the  same  order  which  could  not  be  conveni- 
 ently  attached. 
 
 The  largest  is  the  Reformed  Church -of  the  Netherlands.  Its  founda- 
 tions were  laid  in  troublous  times.  Motley  says,  "  The  early  reformers 
 were  mainly  Huguenots  in  their  belief,"  and,  he  adds,  "the  scaffold  had 
 its  daily  victuns,  but  did  not  make  a  single  convert.  These  were  men 
 who  dared  and  suffered  as  much  as  men  can  dare  and  suffer  in  this  world, 
 an(.l  for  the  noblest  cause  which  can  inspire  humanity." 
 
 Next  in  size  comes  the  Reformed  Church  of  France.  This  Church  had 
 in  some  respects  a  bright  morning.  Its  principles  were  espoused  by  princes 
 and  nobles,  and  it  treated  on  etiual  terms  with  statesmen  and  the  am- 
 bassadors of  kings.  But  the  fair  sky  was  soon  overcast  with  clouds. 
 Though  never  subdued,  it  was  oppressed,  and  the  blood  of  its  martyrs 
 llowetl  like  water.  From  their  ranks  sprang  Henry  IV.,  who  granted  the 
 Edict  of  Nantes  to  secure  them  in  the  due  exercise  of  their  religious  rights 
 
544  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 and  liljerties.     But,  in  spite  of  this  sliicld,  his  immediate  successor  began 
 a  persecution  of  the  most  wanton  description.     Law  and  treaties  were 
 trampled  under  foot,  while  barbarous  cruelties  of  the  most  revolting  cha- 
 racter were  inflicted  on  the  unhappy  sufferers.     In  this  conduct,  however, 
 he  was  even  exceeded  by  his  infamous  son,  Louis  XIV.     Through  his  re- 
 peal of  the  Edict  of  Nantes,  the  poor  Huguenots  were  placed  outside  the 
 pale  of  all  law,  and  a  fierce  soldiery  was  turned  loose  to  work  their  will  on 
 the  unhappy  victims.     The  inhuman  conduct  of  these  monsters  baffles  all 
 description.     Neither  sex,  nor  age,  nor  rank  was  spared,  while  at  the  same 
 time  their  goods  were  pillngedand  their  homes  given  to  the  flames.    Then 
 began  an  exodus,  not  unlike  the  flight  from  Egypt.     It  is  computed  that 
 from  300,000  to  400,000  left  their  native  country,  and  sought  refuge  from 
 oppression  in  other  lands.     They  were  a  sober,  enterprising,  and  industri- 
 ous race,  and  they  enriched  the  countries  wliicli  afibrded  them  shelter  by 
 tlit'ir  learning,  their  manufactures,  and   their  science.     The  remnant  that 
 still  clung  to  their  homes,  held  secret  meetings  under  cloud  of  night  or  in 
 inaccessible  places,  and  was  called  in  consequence    the   Church  in  the 
 desert.     They  ran  great  risks,  and  endured  much  ;  but  they  preserved  the 
 historical  continuity   of    their   Church    till    17S9,   when    the    Constituent 
 Assembly  granted  them  full  toleration.     Since  that  time  they  have  slowly 
 but  surely  extended  their  borders.      They  are  now  full   of  zeal  and  enter- 
 prise, and,  according  to  their  strength,  are  striving  to  leaven  France  with 
 the  glorious  Gospel. 
 
 Besides  these  two  Churches,  there  are  many  smaller  communities  of  the 
 Presbyterian  family  in  other  countries  of  Europe.  They  have  a  strong 
 footing  in  many  of  the  German  States,  as  well  as  in  Hungary,  Austria, 
 Bohemia,  Moravia,  Poland,  and  Italy.  According  to  the  returns  furnished 
 to  the  General  Council  of  which  they  are  members,  there  are  in  all  about 
 5,000  Presbyterian  ministers  in  these  countries,  and  634,000  communicants. 
 Besides  other  enterprises  in  which  they  seek  to  do  good,  they  have  twenty- 
 four  colleges  for  the  instruction  of  their  preachers,  and  there  are  eighty 
 periodicals  devoted  to  their  interests.  Their  chief  hindrance  arises  from 
 the  shackles  imposed  upon  them  by  their  respective  States ;  but  by-and-by 
 these  will  be  cast  off,  and  tlien,  left  free  to  do  their  legitimate  work  in  their 
 own  way,  they  will  doubtless  rival,  if  not  excel,  t'ae  exploits  of  their  heroic 
 ancestors. 
 
 The  man  who  ranks  next  in  authority  to  Calvin  in  Presbyterian  circles 
 is  John  Knox,  a  native  of  a  small  and  poor  country,  which  for  many  rea- 
 sons might  have  been  overlooked  by  the  leaders  of  public  opinion  in  the 
 sixteenth  century.  Yet  it  was  in  humble  Scotland  that  a  drama  was  then 
 enacted  which  has  visibly  affected  the  history  of  the  world.  This  was 
 largely  owing  to  the  character  of  the  man  that  guided  the  movement  there 
 which  we  call  the  Reformation.  Knox  was  a  contemporary  of  Calvin,  and 
 he  was  also  an  admirer  of  that  remarkable  man  ;  but  he  was  too  independent 
 a  thinker  to  be  his  slavish  follower.      He  lived  some  time  at  Geneva,  as 
 
HISTORICAL  PRESBYTERIANISM.  545 
 
 minister  of  the  English  refugees  who  were  settled  there  in  the  reign  of 
 Queen  Mary  ;  but  he  had  formed  his  own  views  on  Church  discipline 
 before  he  became  personally  acquainted  with  the  great  French  Reformer. 
 Under  Knox  the  Reformed  Church  of  Scotland  was  established  on  a 
 purely  Presbyterian  basis ;  and,  though  the  tree  of  his  planting  has  been 
 often  shaken  by  violent  storms,  it  has  never  been  entirely  uprooted,  and 
 to-day  its  wide-spreading  branches  i)ractically  fill  the  land.  One  good 
 reason  for  such  stability  is,  that,  from  the  beginning,  and  all  through  its 
 history,  it  has  been  the  Church  of  the  masses,  and  not  of  the  classes.  It 
 was  alleged  by  the  late  Mr.  Buckle  that  the  Scotch  people  were  as  much 
 priest-ridden  as  the  superstitious  Spaniards.  A  greater  mistake  could  not 
 be  made.  In  the  Scotch  Presbyterian  Church  the  people  had  their  rights 
 accorded  them,  and  they  have  freely  shed  their  blooi  to  maintain  them. 
 The  minister  is,  indeed,  much  more  the  servant  of  the  people  than  the 
 people  can  be  said  to  be  subject  to  the  minister.  This  excellent  arrange- 
 ment was  largely  due  to  the  sagacity  of  Kno.v.  He  did  not  despise 
 dignities  ;  but,  recognising  that  rulers  existed  for  the  people,  and  not  the 
 l)eople  for  them,  he  considered  popular  interests  in  all  the  arrangements 
 which  he  reconnnended,  and  the  outcome  was  an  advanced  type  of  Pres- 
 byterian government.  He  did  not  accomplish  this  object  without  much 
 opposition  ;  but  he  was  as  resolute  as  he  was  wise,  and  consequently  he 
 never  flinched  from  his  task.  A  striking  sketch  of  the  man  and  his  work 
 has  been  drawn  by  Carlyle,  which  deserves  to  be  known,  and  can  bear 
 repetition.  He  said  : — "  In  our  island  there  arose  a  Puritanism  which  even 
 got  itself  established  as  a  Presbyterianism  and  national  Church  among  the 
 Scotch,  which  came  forth  as  a  real  business  of  the  heart,  and  has  produced 
 in  the  world  very  notable  fruit.  In  some  senses  one  may  say  it  is  the  only 
 phasis  of  Protestantism  that  ever  got  to  the  rank  of  being  a  faith,  a  true 
 heart  communication  with  heaven,  and  of  exhibiting  itself  in  iiistory  as 
 such.  We  must  spare  a  few  words  for  Knox  :  himself  a  brave  and  reaiark- 
 able  man  ;  but  still  more  important  as  Chief  Priest  and  Founder,  which  one 
 may  consider  him  to  be,  of  the  faith  that  became  Scotland's,  New  Eng- 
 land's, Oliver  Cromwell's.  .  .  .  This  that  Knox  did  for  his  nation,  I  say,  we 
 may  really  call  a  resurrection  as  from  death.  It  was  not  a  smooth  busi- 
 ness ;  but  it  was  welcome,  surely,  and  cheap  at  that  price,  had  it  been  far 
 rougher.  .  .  .  The  people  began  to  live ;  they  needed  first  of  all  to  do 
 that,  at  what  cost  and  costs  soever.  Scotch  literature  and  thought,  Scotch 
 industry;  James  Watt,  David  Hume,  Walter  Scott,  Robert  Burns;  I  find 
 Knox  and  the  Reformation  acting  in  the  heart's  core  of  every  one  of  these 
 persons  and  phenomena.  .  .  .  Knox  is  the  one  Scotchman  to  whom, 
 of  all  others,  his  country  and  the  world  owe  a  debt.  .  .  .  He  bared 
 his  heart  to  the  battle  ;  had  to  row  in  French  galleys  ;  wander  forlorn  in 
 exile,  in  clouds  and  storms  ;  was  censured,  shot  at  through  his  windows ; 
 had  a  right  sore  fighting  life  ;  if  this  world  were  his  place  of  recompense, 
 he  had  made  but  a  bad  venture  of  it.  He  had  a  right  sore  fight,  but  he 
 VOL.  1. — pt.  2.  o  o 
 
546  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 won  it.  '  Have  you  hope  ?  '  they  asked  him  in  his  last  moment,  when  he 
 could  no  longer  speak.  He  lifted  his  finger,  '  pointed  upwards  with  his 
 finger,'  and  so  died."  This  eloquent  eulogium  may  be  fitly  followed  by 
 Regent  Morton's  epita[)h  over  his  open  grave :  "  There  lies  he  tliat  never 
 feared  the  face  of  man." 
 
 When  Knox  departed  this  life,  his  mantle  fell  on  Andrew  Melville,  a 
 man  in  many  respects  as  notable  as  his  predecessor.  He  was  a  profound 
 scholar,  and  he  was  more  careful  than  Knox  himself  to  draw  the  line  where 
 civil  government  ended  and  religious  liberty  began.  King  James  was 
 already  on  the  throne,  and  had  imbibed  the  notion,  as  he  himself  taught, 
 "that  a  principal  part  of  the  king's  function  consists  in  ruling  the  Church  ; 
 that  parity  among  ministers  is  irreconcilable  with  monarchy,  and  the 
 mother  of  confusion ;  and,  in  short,  that  Episcopacy  should  be  set  up  and 
 the  principal  Presbyterian  ministers  banished  from  the  country."  The 
 truth  is,  that  James  had  resolved  on  the  absolute  despotism  which  he  in- 
 tended to  impose  on  all  his  dominions  ;  and,  finding  the  Presbyterians 
 crossing  his  path,  he  was  bent  on  their  overthrow.  To  his  craft  as  well  as 
 his  violence  Melville  offered  a  stout  resistance,  and  on  a  memorable  occa- 
 sion addressed  him  in  a  strain  to  which  monarchsare  not  much  accustomed. 
 James  had  answered  a  deputation  "  in  a  most  crabbed  and  coleric  manner," 
 on  which  Melville,  who  was  a  member,  took  the  king  by  the  sleeve, 
 and  first  calling  him  God's  silly  vassal,  added,  "  Therefore,  sir,  as 
 divers  times  I  have  told  you  before,  so  now  again  I  must  tell  you,  there 
 are  two  kings  and  two  kingdoms  in  Scotland  :  there  is  King  James,  the 
 head  of  the  Commonwealth  ;  and  there  is  Christ  Jesus,  the  King  of  the 
 Church,  whose  subject  James  VI.  is  ;  and  of  whose  kingdimi  he  is  not  a 
 king,  nor  a  lord,  nor  a  head,  but  a  member."  This  intrepid  minister  was 
 cajoled  to  come  up  to  London,  after  James  had  ascended  the  English 
 throne,  under  the  pretence  that  his  counsel  was  needed  to  settle  Church 
 affairs  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  king  had  him  in  his  power,  he  threw  him  into 
 prison,  and  fixed  on  him  a  charge  of  treason  for  libelling  the  bishops.  On 
 his  trial,  Bancroft,  Bishop  of  London,  called  him  a  traitor ;  but  he  was 
 scarcely  prepared  for  the  retort  that  followed.  The  prisoner  replied,  "  My 
 lords,  Andrew  Melville  was  never  a  traitor.  But,  my  lords,  there  was  one 
 Richard  Bancroft  (let  him  be  sought  for),  who,  during  the  life  of  the  late 
 queen,  wrote  a  treatise  against  his  majesty's  title  to  tlie  crown  of  England, 
 and  here  (pulling  the  corpus  delicti  ixova  his  pocket),  here  is  the  book." 
 Bancroft  was  covered  with  confusion  ;  but  Melville  had  not  done  with  him. 
 Advancing  gradually  as  he  spake  to  the  head  of  the  table,  he  took  hold  of 
 the  bishop's  lawn  sleeves,  and  calling  tliem  Romish  rags,  added,  "  If  you 
 are  the  autiior  of  the  book  called  '  English  Scotlising  for  (ienevan  Disci- 
 ])line,'  1  regard  you  as  the  capital  enemy  of  all  the  Reformed  Churches  in 
 Europe  ;  and,  as  such,  I  will  profess  myself  an  enemy  to  you  and  your 
 proceedings  to  the  effusion  of  tlie  last  drop  of  my  blood." 
 
 Such  an  outburst  on  the  part  of  a  prisoner  was  not,  of  course,  politic  ; 
 
HISTORICAL  PRESBYTERIANISM.  $47 
 
 but  there  are  times  when  plainness  of  speech  is  wiser  than  discretion.  One 
 thing  was,  however,  clear,  as  James  was  accustomed  blasphemously  to  say, 
 "that  Presbytery  and  Monarchy  could  no  more  agree  than  God  and  the 
 devil;"  and  so  this  champion  of  constitutional  liberty  was  banished  the 
 kingdom.  It  was  from  men  of  this  stamp  that  the  Scottish  Church  re- 
 ceived the  robust  character  which  it  has  ever  since  retained.  Under  the 
 Stuarts  they  passed  through  a  baptism  of  fire  ;  but  in  the  midst  of  the 
 flames  the  great  majority  clung  with  tenacity  to  their  favourite  Presby- 
 terianism. 
 
 After  the  Revolution  in  1689,  a  series  of  encroachments  were  made  on 
 the  spiritual  independence  of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  which  culminated  in 
 a  decision  of  the  Court  of  Session  rendering  the  call  of  the  communicants 
 to  a  properly  qualified  preacher  to  be  their  minister  as  worthless  as  a  piece 
 of  waste  paper.  Against  this  invasion  of  popular  rights  there  had  been 
 sundry  voices  raised ;  but  the  Evangelicals,  as  they  were  called,  from  whom 
 these  protests  came  were  long  in  a  minority,  and  their  opposition  therefore 
 was  fruitless.  15ut  the  tide  turned  in  1834;  and  then  began  the  conflict 
 with  the  civil  courts,  which  terminated  with  the  memorable  Disruption. 
 The  central  figure  of  that  movement  was  the  renowned  Thomas  Chalmers. 
 He  was  a  man  remarkable  in  many  ways.  He  was  the  most  eloquent 
 preacher  of  his  time  ;  he  was  an  anient  social  reformer  ;  he  was  a  dis- 
 tinguished professor  both  of  philosophy  and  theology  ;  he  possessed  great 
 powers  of  reasoning  and  persuasion ;  and  as  he  also  led  a  consistent  Chris- 
 tian life,  and  had  a  nobility  of  character  which  all  admired,  he  was  well 
 fitted  to  be  a  leader  in  a  struggle  which  assumed  national  proportions.  He 
 was  at  this  time  at  the  zenith  of  his  fame.  Honours  had  been  showered 
 upon  him  from  many  quarters.  He  was  a  D.C.L.  of  the  University  of 
 Oxford,  and  he  was  also  a  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Edinburgh,  and 
 a  corresponding  member  of  the  Royal  Institute  of  France.  Under  his 
 guidance  the  Evangelicals  were  led  to  a  certain  and  glorious  victory.  On 
 the  i8th  of  May,  1843,  474  ministers,  rather  than  surrender  their  spiritual 
 rights,  relinquished  their  livings;  and,  with  Chalmers  at  their  head,  consti- 
 tuted the  Free  Church  of  Scotland.  It  was  a  heroic  sacrifice  and  a  noble 
 concession  to  the  claims  of  conscience.  It  was  for  the  maintenance  of 
 these  ministers  that  Chalmers  devised  the  scheme  of  ecclesiastical  finance 
 now  so  well  known  as  the  Sustentation  Fund.  Availing  himself  of  the 
 organic  unity  of  the  Church,  which  is  a  fundamental  principle  of  Presby- 
 terianism,  he  demonstrated  the  obligation  of  each  congregation  to  con- 
 tribute for  the  support  of  the  whole  Church,  and  the  corresponding 
 obligation  of  the  whole  Church  to  provide  for  the  necessities  of  each 
 congregation.  The  Sustentation  Fund  was  not,  therefore,  an  eleemosynary 
 scheme  through  which  the  rich  helped  the  poor,  but  a  generous  arrange- 
 ment by  which  poor  and  rich  were  knit  together  in  the  closest  bonds  of 
 brotherhood,  and  every  man  was  induced,  from  the  highest  motives,  to 
 exercise  the  gift  of  liberality  according  to  his  ability.     By  this  plan  the 
 
548  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD, 
 
 members  of  the  Churcli  voluntarily  assessed  themselves  for  the  support  of 
 religious  ordinances  ;  and,  as  the  collectors  called  for  the  subscriptions 
 with  uniform  regularity,  there  was  a  constant  flow  of  money  towards  the 
 central  exchequer. 
 
 There  were  also  regular  seasons  for  disbursement  ;  and  on  these 
 occasions  all  the  ministers  received  an  equal  dividend.  So  successful 
 was  this  effort,  that  in  the  very  year  of  the  Disruption,  apart  from 
 supplements  received  directly  from  their  own  people,  a  moderate  sti- 
 ])end  was  obtained  for  every  minister  who  cast  in  his  lot  with  the  Free 
 Church  ;  and  the  ground  then  gained  has  not  only  been  maintained,  but 
 considerably  extended.  But  this  achievement  has  had  results  which 
 Chalmers  did  not  foresee,  and  of  which  he  might  not  have  approved.  It 
 has  been  an  experiment  on  a  large  scale,  proving  the  possibility  of  main- 
 taining a  Church  in  full  efficiency  without  national  endowments,  and  it  has 
 therefore  greatly  quickened  the  agitation  for  delivering  all  Churches  both 
 from  State  support  and  State  control. 
 
 Chalmers  did  not  long  survive  the  Disruption.  Without  any  alarming 
 symptoms  of  illness,  he  retired  to  rest  on  Sabbath  evening  the  3oih  of 
 May,  1847,  and  next  morning  was  found  dead  in  his  bed.  His  remains 
 were  borne  to  Grange  Cemetery,  Edinburgh,  amid  much  lamentation  ;  and 
 the  whole  Church  of  God,  wherever  he  had  been  known,  mourned  his  loss. 
 
 The  history  of  Presbyterianism  in  England  is  the  strangest  perhaps  on 
 record.  It  flourishes  best  on  a  free  soil ;  and  from  the  well-known  attach- 
 ment of  the  inhabitants  of  the  country  to  liberty,  it  might  naturally  have 
 been  expected  that  they  would  receive  this  form  of  Church  polity  with  open 
 arms.  Yet,  from  a  variety  of  causes,  the  English  Presbyterian  Church  is 
 one  of  the  smallest  of  the  religious  communities  in  the  land.  To  under- 
 stand this  peculiarity,  it  will  be  necessary  to  give  an  outline  of  the  efforts 
 that  were  made  to  graft  this  system  of  government  on  the  National  Church. 
 Henry  VIII.  scarcely  deserves  the  credit  of  being  a  Reformer  at  all.  He 
 certainly  deposed  the  Poi)e  as  the  head  of  the  English  Church;  but  by  the 
 Act  of  Supremacy  he  was  raised  to  that  dignity  himself.  Apart  from  him 
 there  was  a  deep  religious  movement,  with  a  strong  current  flowing  in  a 
 Presbyterian  direction,  which  he  checked  by  the  exercise  of  his  arbitrary 
 l)ower.  Under  his  son  this  system  was  cncouriged  ;  and  had  he  lived  to 
 reach  his  majority,  it  would  certainly  have  been  developed. 
 
 Elizabeth  was  as  arbitrary  as  her  father,  and  by  a  series  of  cruel  enact- 
 ments, endeavoured  to  iin])Osc  an  outward  uniformity  of  worship  on  all  her 
 subjects;  but  Presbyterianism  had  taken  too  strong  a  hold  on  the  minds  of 
 many  of  them  to  be  suppressed.  Perry,  the  High  Church  historian,  says, 
 "The  main  bofly  of  the  Elizabethan  Bishops  were  both  Calvinistic  in 
 doctrine  and  inclined  to  Prcsb)terinnism  in  discipline."  'J'he  Stuarts 
 were  the  natural  enemies  of  Presbyterianism,  and  the  abettors  of  Epis- 
 copacy.    It  was  a  common  saying  of  James,  "  No  bishop,  no  king." 
 
 In    the    Long    Parliament,    which    took    arms   against    Charles   I.,  the 
 
HISTORICAL  PRESBYTERIANISM.  549 
 
 majority  of  the  members  were  Presbyterian.  They  abolished  Episcopacy  ; 
 and  to  aid  them  in  framing  a  polity  to  take  its  place,  they  summoned  the 
 famous  Westminster  Assembly  to  deliberate  on  this  subject.  It  consisted 
 originally  of  ten  Peers,  twenty  members  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and 
 121  divines,  but  there  were  jcldom  more  than  an  average  of  from  sixty  to 
 eighty  in  attendance.  They  represented  all  prominent  shades  of  religious 
 opinion,  and  they  were  all  held  in  estimation  as  men  of  great  learning  and 
 ability.  They  were  ultimately  joined  by  six  Scotchmen,  who  took  an 
 active  part  in  their  proceedings.  The  Assembly  sat  from  five  to  six  years, 
 and  by  the  end  of  that  time  they  had  drawn  uj)  a  Confession  of  Faith,  a 
 Directory  for  Public  Worship,  and  a  form  of  Church  Government,  all  of 
 which  were  in  due  course  submitted  to  Parliament,  and,  with  some  altera- 
 tions, adopted  as  the  new  constitution  of  the  National  Church.  This 
 formed  tlic  climax  of  Presbyterian  ascendency,  but  by  the  time  it  reached 
 this  height  there  were  forces  at  work  to  procure  its  overthrow.  In  the 
 first  place.  Parliament  brought  odium  on  the  scheme  by  an  endeavour  to 
 impose  it  on  the  country  with  pains  and  penalties  in  every  case  of  its 
 rejection.  Then  Cromwell,  fresh  from  his  victories,  appeared  on  the 
 scene,  and  paid  little  regard  to  the  ordinances  of  a  Parliament  for  which 
 he  had  conceived  a  supreme  contempt.  But  the  labours  of  the  Assembly 
 were  not  on  that  account  lost.  Though  the  effort  to  set  up  a  Presbyterian 
 Church,  under  legal  sanctions,  proved  abortive,  yet  the  Westminster 
 standards,  which  the  Assembly  had  produced,  were  adopted  as  symbols 
 by  tlie  best  Presbyterian  Churches  in  the  world.  Scotland  substituted 
 them  for  its  own  Books  of  Discipline  ;  English  emigrants  carried  them  to 
 America;  and  they  have  since  formed  a  rallying-point  for  English-speaking 
 people  all  over  the  world.  They  have  been  condemned  by  many  who  cither 
 never  read  them  or  never  took  the  trouble  to  master  their  contents;  Lut  jt 
 is  easier  to  revile  than  to  refute  them.  They  are  the  ripe  fruit  of  much 
 anxious  deliberation  ;  they  are  severely  logical,  and  the  propositions  cover 
 whole  volumes  of  controversy  of  which  they  are  the  legitimate  outcome. 
 These  books  form  England's  chief  contribution  to  Presbyterianism,  and 
 in  bestowing  it,  no  greater  service  could  be  rendered  to  any  religious 
 denomination. 
 
 With  the  restoration  of  Charles  II.,  in  spite  of  all  promises  to  the 
 contrary.  Episcopacy  was  re-imposed  on  the  country ;  and,  to  make 
 matters  worse  than  they  had  ever  been  before,  the  Act  of  Uniformity 
 was  passed,  which,  for  the  first  time,  reduced  the  Church  of  England 
 to  the  level  of  a  sect,  and  cut  her  off  from  all  genuine  fellowship  with 
 her  Reformed  sisters  in  other  lands.  Though  some  Presbyterians  ac- 
 cepted the  galling  yoke  prepared  for  their  necks,  there  were  upwards  of 
 2000  ministers  who  abandoned  their  livings  rather  than  surrender  the  prin- 
 ciples which  they  had  deliberately  adopted.  No  greater  sacrifice  for  truth 
 was  ever  perhaps  made.  The  story  of  the  ejectment  is  a  record  of  bitter 
 privations,  enough,  even  at  this  time,  to  make  our  ears  tingle.      Yet  the 
 
5 so  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 surrender  of  their  benefices  did  not  exempt  them  from  further  moles- 
 tation. A  series  of  persecuting  edicts  were  passed  against  them,  on 
 account  of  which  they  were  unable  to  maintain  any  organic  unity.  For 
 this  reason  they  became  disintegrated  ;  and  losing  hope  of  recovering  their 
 former  status  in  the  National  Churcli,  or  maintaining  an  isolated  position 
 outside  its  pale,  so  many  of  them  were  merged  into  other  communions 
 that  at  the  end  of  200  years  they  had  nearly  disappeared.  In  the  year 
 1836,  however,  the  scattered  congregations  were  again  consolidated,  and  a 
 work  of  reconstruction  began  which  is  still  in  process.  The  Presbyterian 
 Church  of  England  at  the  present  time  has  as  many  as  eleven  Presbyteries 
 and  288  Congregations.  It  maintains  a  College  for  the  education  of  its 
 students,  and  has  a  central  fund  out  of  which  a  minimum  stipend  of  ;^2oo 
 per  annum  is  paid  to  all  its  ministers.  It  is  also  full  of  evangelistic  zeal, 
 and  does  its  fair  share  in  helping  to  raise  the  lapsed  masses  of  society. 
 Many  of  its  preachers  are  men  of  popular  gifts,  and  draw  large  congrega- 
 tions. Altogether  it  is  radiant  with  hope,  and  bids  fair,  at  its  present  rate 
 of  progress,  to  recover  the  high  place  it  once  occupied  in  the  country. 
 
 In  any  review  of  Presbyterianism,  the  Church  with  tliat  policy  in  Ireland 
 ought  not  to  be  omitted.  It  is  one  of  the  most  vigorous  members  of  the 
 whole  Presbyterian  family,  and  has  rendered  great  service  to  the  country 
 in  which  it  is  situated.  Many  other  parts  of  unhappy  Ireland  appear  to  be 
 under  a  deadly  blight ;  but  Ulster,  the  chief  home  of  the  Presbyterians,  is  a 
 hive  of  industry,  and  resembles  a  richly  cultivated  garden. 
 
 But  the  largest  Churches  of  this  type  are  found  in  the  United  States  of 
 America.  It  would  have  been  strange  had  it  been  otherwise.  The  civil 
 government  of  that  country  resembles  the  Presbyterian  polity  so  much 
 that  one  can  imagine  some  shrewd  elder  or  minister  had  a  hand  in  con- 
 structing the  political  framework  of  our  transatlantic  cousins.  Presbyterian- 
 ism also  flourishes  in  all  our  colonies.  It  seems  to  suit  the  enterprising 
 habits  of  these  young  communities. 
 
 Altogether,  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  its  collective  capacity  forms  the 
 largest  Protestant  sect  in  the  world. 
 
 There  are  four  million  communicants  on  her  rolls  ;  and  by  a  modest  com- 
 putation tliere  should  be  not  less  than  twenty  millions  professing  her  faith 
 and  receiving  the  benefit  of  her  ordinances. 
 
 We  may  well  bid  her  God-speed.  Though  her  children  have  not  always 
 been  blameless,  nor  her  creed  always  pure,  yet  she  contains  in  her  consti- 
 tution the  seeds  of  her  own  regeneration.  She  has  always  been  in  the  van 
 of  Reformers,  and  has  materially  assisted  in  advancing  every  true  and 
 noble  enterprise.  She  especially  adapts  her  worship  to  intelligent  men. 
 She  appeals  to  reason,  and  promotes  conviction  by  argument.  She  has 
 always  been  the  friend  of  education  ;  and  the  highest  ornaments  of  science 
 have  not  infrequently  been  drawn  from  her  ranks. 
 
 Old  institutions  are  today  upon  their  trial,  and  none  will  be  spared  that 
 do  not  serve  some  useful  purpose. 
 
HISTORICAL  PRESBYTERIANISM.  551 
 
 Should  any  Presbyterian  Church  be  cast  into  the  crucible,  it  is  to  be 
 hoped  that  it  will  come  through  the  ordeal  like  gold  tried  in  the  fire  seven 
 times  jnirified.  In  common  with  all  other  religious  denominations,  the 
 chief  mission  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  is  to  proclaim  salvation  to  lost 
 men,  and  its  organization  will  only  be  prized  in  so  far  as  it  is  conducive  to 
 this  great  end.  It  should  never  be  forgotten  that  the  Church  is  a  Theo- 
 cracy, possessing  a  spiritual  life  derived  directly  from  the  baptism  and 
 indwelling  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  every  organization  should  be  the  out- 
 ward expression  of  this  new  life.  With  this  renewed  mind  the  Presbyterian 
 system  is  in  full  harmony,  and  is  therefore  worthy  of  the  confidence  of  all 
 who  desire  to  see  the  kingdom  of  God  set  up  in  this  world.  In  the  exter- 
 nal symbols  of  its  faith  and  worship  alterations  may  be  made  to  suit  the 
 varying  minds  of  changing  men,  but  the  principles  of  Presbyterianism 
 should  be  retained  in  their  integrity.  They  have  been  tried  and  not  found 
 wanting  ;  they  rest  on  the  twofold  basis  of  reason  and  revelation  ;  they 
 combine  liberty  with  order  ;  they  administer  an  even-handed  justice  to  the 
 humblest  as  well  as  to  the  highest ;  and  through  them  the  popular  forces 
 are  evoked,  before  which  evil  is  overcome  and  righteousness  is  established 
 in  the  earth.  The  members  of  the  Presbyterian  Churches  have  no  need 
 indeed  to  be  ashamed  of  tiie  faith  in  which  they  have  been  nurtured,  and 
 it  is  their  duty,  wherever  they  go,  to  hold  up  its  standard  and  keep  its 
 banners  %ing. 
 
INDEPENDENCY,  OR  LOCAL  CHURCH 
 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 By  the  Rev.  Edward  White 
 'Ex-Chairman  of  the   Congregational  Union  of  England  and   Wales). 
 
 Nearly  forty  years  ago  I  spent  ten  years  of  my  life  in  the  little  western 
 city  of  Hereford  on  the  Wye,  where,  among  our  ten  thousand  people,  we 
 had  religious  folk  of  almost  every  species  known  in  England  :  Anglicans 
 of  every  type — High  Church,  Broad  Church,  Low  Church  ;  Roman 
 Catholics  ;  Methodists  of  each  section — Wesleyan,  Primitive,  New  Con- 
 nection ;  Quakers ;  Baptists  ;  Plymouth  Brethren,  of  two  or  three  shades, 
 hived  in  separate  "rooms,"  who  loved  God  so  much  that  they  would 
 scarcely  speak  to  one  another  in  the  streets  ;  Congregationalists  ;  Unita- 
 rians ;  and  professors  of  every  type  of  Modern  Agnosticism  and  Nothing- 
 arianism,  together  with  a  few  active  Infidels  and  Atheists.  It  was  a 
 strange  experience.  It  was  also  an  interesting  opportunity.  I  was  inti- 
 mate with  specimens  of  almost  each  variety  of  thought  and  character,  from 
 Deans  and  Canons  and  Roman  Catholic  Priests,  down  to  hyper-Calvinists 
 and  God-denying  materialists,  who  had  revolted  altogether  against  modern 
 Christianity.  It  was  a  position  almost  resembling  that  of  Noah  in  the  ark, 
 where  one  could  study  close  at  hand  every  species,  sometimes  well-nigh 
 watching  their  evolution  of  varieties  and  transformations.  I  was  almost 
 the  only  person  in  the  city  who  seemed  to  wish  to  know  all  sects  and 
 parties  ;  and,  though  not  popular  with  any  of  them,  they  taught  me  many 
 things  which  subsequent  experience  in  this  vast  sea  of  souls  in  London  has 
 only  confirmed  during  the  subsequent  forty  years. 
 
 One  of  the  chief  of  these  lessons  in  the  natural  history  of  religion  was 
 the  i)erception  of  the  fact  that  all  really  good  and  God-fearing  men  are 
 very  much  alike  inside.  If  you  could,  as  Plato  somewhere  imagines, 
 cleave  them  down  the  centre,  and  lay  open  a  section  of  their  inmost  cha- 
 racters, you  would  find  them  all,  including  many  of  the  doubters,  earnest 
 for  truth-seeking,  provided  you  did  not  expect  them  to  seek  truth  outside 
 their  own  little  sheepfolds,  for  then  the  passion  for  truth-seeking  begins  to 
 diminish  in  intensity ;  men  are  so  much  more  under  the  influence  of  their 
 friends  and  acquaintances  than  of  abstract  conscientious  considerations. 
 And  yet,  within  these  limits  how  much  one  could  learn  to  love  and  admire 
 round  the  whole  circle  !  All  the  good  men— I  do  not  say  all  the  pro- 
 fessedly religious  men,  or  all  the  pretenders — seemed  to  desire  the  right, 
 and  tried  to  enjoy  the  lower  pleasures  of  life  with  due  regard  to  the  higher 
 delights  and  duties  possible  to  mankind.     All  the  good  men  were  diligent, 
 
 552 
 
INDEPENDENCY,   OR  LOCAL   CHURCH  GOVERNMENT.     553 
 
 generous,  temperate,  hospitable,  and  truth-speaking ;  clean-handed,  reve- 
 rent, and  compassionate.  And  one  had  the  feeling  that,  if  their  souls 
 could  have  been  taken  out  of  their  bodies,  and  especially  out  of  the  reli- 
 gious or  non-religious  bodies  to  which  they  belonged,  they  would  together 
 have  composed  a  Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church,  which  would  have 
 proved  a  mighty  force  against  the  powers  of  darkness  in  that  Cathedral 
 City,  which  indeed  were  considerable  both  in  the  lay  and  clerical  depart- 
 ments^ 
 
 We  see  modern  Christianity  under  many  disadvantages^  The  full 
 breadth  and  depth  of  abstract  Christianity  is  now  found  only,  I  think,  in 
 its  own  original  documents,  which  are  strikingly  different  from  the  more 
 developed  creeds  and  churches  of  later  Christendom.  If  the  Apostles  had 
 gone  forth  to  attack  Judaism,  or  the  heathenism  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans 
 and  Asiatics,  with  the  Athanasian  Creed,  or  the  Assembly  s  Catechism,  or 
 the  Declaration  of  Faith  of  the  Methodist  or  Presbyterian  or  Congrega- 
 tional bodies  in  one  hand,  and  the  Cross  in  the  other,  I  suppose  no  one 
 thinks  they  would  have  had  much  success  in  the  overthrow  of  ancient 
 Paganism.  'J'he  stupidity  and  ignorance  of  multitudes  of  both  saints  and 
 sinners,  believers  and  unbelievers,  is  an  enormously  powerful  factor  in  the 
 history  of  the  world  ;  though  it  is  undoubtedly  far  better  to  have  one  eye 
 than  to  have  none,  or  even  to  have  a  cast  in  your  one  eye  than  to  be  stone 
 blind. 
 
 I  fear  we  must  admit  that  the  impartial  and  passionate  search  for  truth 
 is  not  so  common  an  attribute  of  humanity  as  some  imagine  it  to  be. 
 Thinking  generally  leads  to  the  dissatisfaction  of  the  set  in  which  you  are 
 born,  and  that  prospect,  with  the  practical  consequences  following,  seems 
 to  make  a  man  think  twice,  before  he  thinks  with  the  desperate  resolution 
 of  perfect  honesty  in  any  direction. 
 
 Nevertheless,  religious  men  are  more  closely  related  together  within  than 
 often  appears  on  the  surface;  just  as  one  might  think  the  whale  a  fish 
 because  he  flounders  and  dives  in  the  deep  sea  3  whereas  he  is  not  a  fish, 
 but  a  hot-blooded  mammal,  and  first  cousin  to  tiie  amphibious  mammals 
 both  in  skeleton  and  physiological  structure,  and  is  a  fish  only  in  his  en- 
 vironments ;  just  as  many  of  us  who  are  Congregationalists  feel,  thank 
 God,  much  more  closely  related  to  the  excellent  Canon  who  lectured  to 
 you  last  Sunday  afternoon  than  we  do  to  some  outward  and  congenital 
 types  of  Nonconformity. 
 
 Your  wish  to  hear  some  account  of  different  "  Centres  of  Spiritual 
 Activity  "  has  interested  me  much,  although  I  cannot  pretend  to  ofter 
 Independency  to  you  as  a  short  and  easy  road  to  the  land  of  Beulah.  I 
 was  born  on  this  roadside,  and  one  of  the  best  things  1  have  to  say  of  it  is, 
 that  the  Independents  of  to-day  persecute  you  and  punish  you  less  than  any 
 other  set  of  religious  people  known  to  me  for  your  individual  beliefs  on 
 serious  questions.  As  much  as  most  men  living  I  have  gone  against  some 
 of  the  theological  principles  which  they  hold  in  common  with  other  reli- 
 
554  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 gious  bodies,  and  against  some  others  special  to  themselves  and  their  tradi- 
 tions;  and  yet  they  made  me  their  Chairman  by  a  pretty  unanimous  vote 
 two  years  ago.  And  I  felt  much  more  confident  of  having  been  chosen  to 
 that  post  as  a  sign  of  catholic  brotherhood,  than  as  a  sign  of  advancing 
 sympathy  with  my  particular  opinions.  The  original  Independents  of  the 
 Tudor  and  Stuart  reigns  were,  I  suspect,  what  we  should  now  think  a 
 rather  narrow  and  obstinate  set  of  men,  full  of  conscience,  and  very  godly, 
 but  rather  fierce  and  bitter  in  their  goodness,  and  ready  to  behave  to 
 Queen  Elizabeth  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  us  wonder  less  at  her  desire 
 to  hang  them  ;  and  under  the  Stuarts  ready  to  become  fighting  Crom- 
 wellian  Ironsides,  if  you  did  not  at  once  fall  in  with  their  decisions  in 
 theology  and  ecclesiastical  affairs.  But  the  modern  Independents  have 
 laid  aside  the  sword  for  the  pen,  and,  I  think,  have  learned  the  noble 
 lesson  of  tempering  their  love  of  freedom  and  of  local  Church  government 
 by  the  ruling  influence  of  the  Divine  Spirit  of  sympathy,  and  by  a  readi- 
 ness to  submit  to  that  influence  in  religion,  however  made  known,  by 
 learning,  judgment,  and  criticism. 
 
 Without  pretending  to  set  them  up  as  exceptionally  wise  men,  I  venture 
 to  think  that  their  history  has  taught  them  some  lessons  of  exceeding  value 
 in  assisting  the  development  of  minds  moving  in  the  midst  of  our  modern 
 chaos  of  conflicting  beliefs  and  no  beliefs.  My  duty,  however,  is  not  so 
 much  to  praise  or  defend  the  Independents  as  to  describe  them,  and 
 classify  them  amidst  other  varieties  of  militant  Christians.  I  believe  most 
 of  their  leading  men  would  agree  with  me  in  saying  that  their  attachment 
 to  Independency  is  built  rather  on  its  being  less  of  an  ecclesiastical  system 
 than  any  otlier  known  in  England,  except  that  of  the  Open  Communion 
 Baptists,  who  are  Independents  with  one  ritualistic  difference.  The  main 
 attraction  is  a  readiness  for  local  union  with  all  sincere  and  obedient 
 Christians  as  soon  as  ever  the  said  local  Christians  of  different  colours  are 
 wishful  to  unite  with  them  on  a  broad  basis  in  worship,  in  work,  and  in 
 public  usefulness.  The  very  wideness  of  their  aspirations  works,  however, 
 in  some  degree  against  their  success.  A  good  party-cry  has  always  more 
 attractive  power  over  the  vulgar  crowd  than  a  great  truth,  and  a  well 
 upholstered  ritual  has  a  better  chance  of  popularity  than  either.  Music, 
 and  dress,  and  office,  are  lawful  accompaniments  of  every  combination  ; 
 but  we  hold  that  they  ought  to  take  a  secondary  place  in  a  religion  wliich 
 deals  cliiefly  with  the  unseen  and  eternal  in  both  God  and  Man.  It  is  to 
 the  credit  of  the  Christian  Scriptures  that  they  are  too  full  of  thought  and 
 aspiration  to  be  the  textbook  of  ecclesiastical  milliners  and  manlua  makers; 
 or  of  people  who  go  almost  mad  with  rage  if  you  even  offer  to  argue  with 
 them  on  any  one  of  their  so-called  "  Articles  of  Eaith."  You  cannot  even 
 imagine  St.  Paul's  letters  being  addressed  to  the  parishioners  of  a  great 
 London  parish.  The  ratepayers  of  St.  Pancras  or  St.  Marylebone,  I  am 
 sure,  would  consider  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans  utterly  unintelligible  if 
 addressed  to  them.     And  yet  it  originally  was  addressed  to  a  recently  con- 
 
INDEPENDENCY,   OR  LOCAL   CHURCH  GOVERNMENT.      555 
 
 verted  company  of  Jews  and  Greeks  and  Romans.  Early  Christianity  was 
 a  far  more  ijitelledual  movement  than  it  sometimes  gets  credit  for,  to  say 
 nothing  of  its  moral  qualifications.  Each  Church  was  an  intellectual  and 
 moral  Ecdesia,  or  selection  of  the  fittest. 
 
 Now  the  attractions  of  this  system  to  the  Independents  lie  in  these 
 directions  : — 
 
 It  is  an  attempt  to  fall  back  on  original  Christianity  as  set  forth  in  the 
 Apostolic  documents.  This  type  we  find  far  more  credible  than  the  form 
 wliich  traditional  Christianity  has  assumed  in  later  ages.  Take,  as  one 
 example,  the  doctrine  oS.  the  nature  of  Gj'L  The  Creed  of  St.  At/tanasius 
 — (falsely  so-called,  for  he  lived  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  fourth  century  ; 
 but  this  "  Creed  "  is  not  found  in  Greek  at  all,  and  not  even  in  Latin,  as 
 Canon  Swainson  has  proved,  till  the  eighth  century) — this  Creed  insists  on 
 the  use  of  phrases  concerning  the  Divine  Nature  such  as  Trinity  ^nd.  Three 
 Persons  in  One  God,  which  are  found  nowhere  in  the  New  Testament.  It 
 speaks  of  the  Son  and  Spirit  as  "equal  to  the  Father."  The  New  Testa- 
 ment speaks  of  the  Father  as  specially  God  :  "  One  God  the  Father,"  and 
 "  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  And  we  prefer  the  New  Testament  language, 
 and  no  one  is  rebuked  for  adhering  to  it.  For  myself,  having  been  a 
 preacher  for  forty-seven  years,  I  have  never  once  used  the  phrases.  Trinity, 
 or  Three  Persons  in  One  God,  in  my  public  addresses  and  prayers,  simply 
 because  they  are  not  apostolic  ;  and  no  one  has  ever  reprimanded  me  for 
 the  omission. 
 
 There  is  no  doubt  that  the  seven  or  eight  thousand  Independent  and 
 Baptist  Churches,  and  the  far  larger  number  in  America,  firmly  maintain 
 that  the  language  of  Christ  and  His  Inspired  Apostles  signifies  that  in  His 
 Person  there  was  some  awful  and  sublime  mystery  of  Incarnation,  as  it  is 
 termed,  some  unique  union  of  a  Divine  Nature  with  the  Human  Life, 
 which  constituted  Christ's  personality  as  an  unexampled  combination  of  the 
 finite  with  the  Infinite,  and  they  hoUl  that  it  was  this  union  which  lifts  Him 
 up  into  the  dignity  of  Son  of  God,  makes  Him  the  object  of  faith  and 
 worship,  and  gives  Him  power  to  bestow  eternal  life  on  His  followers. 
 We  firmly  believe  that  Jesus  was  the  Christ,  or  Messiah,  or  King,  promised 
 to  the  Jewish  people  and  to  mankind  from  early  times,  and  that  He  is  the 
 "  Saviour  of  the  world,"  through  whom  the  Infinite  and  Eternal  Love  deals 
 in  gentleness  and  mercy  with  sinful  men,  pardons  us,  and  opens  to  us  the 
 prospect  of  admission  into  that  great  and  everlasting  union  of  worlds, 
 which  Astronomy  now  dimly  unveils  to  our  apprehensions  ;  so  that  Chris- 
 tianity is  closely  connected  with  all  the  greatest  thoughts  and  aspirations 
 possible  to  humanity. 
 
 I  give  this  only  as  an  example.  We  hold  the  general  principle  that 
 Christians  ought  to  strive  by  study  and  honest  criticism  to  get  back  to 
 Original  Christianity  in  thought  and  spirit — and,  even  when  we  make 
 mistakes,  we  sympathize  with  each  other  in  this  endeavour  ;  for  our  one- 
 sided mistakes  are  often  "  right  creeds  in  the  making." 
 
556  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 I  might  mention  another  example  in  relation  to  the  question  of  the 
 FUTURE  LIFE.  We  agree  that  the  ultimate  truth  concerning  man's  future 
 can  be  learned  only  from  our  Maker  ;  and  if  God  has  spoken  to  us  in  the 
 Christian  religion  it  is  there  we  must  hear  His  words.  The  old  mediaeval 
 faith  of  all  Christian  sects  was,  that  man  has  been  born  immortal  in  sin, 
 and  inherits  by  descent  the  curse  of  immortality  in  sin  and  sorrow.  Frnm 
 this  men  were  to  be  saved  by  the  Son  of  God,  through  renewal  by  the 
 Spirit  of  God.  It  was  held  by  the  Calvinists  that  the  finally  saved  were 
 chosen  to  glory  from  all  eternity.  The  imsaved  were  either  "  passed  over," 
 and  left  to  their  doom,  or  were  even  directly  predestined  to  suffer  in  im- 
 mortal misery. 
 
 There  has  been  a  deep  and  general  revolt  among  us  against  this  frighlfiil 
 result  of  false  metaphysics  and  false  criticism  ;  and  now,  at  least  the  majo- 
 rity of  the  Independents  would  agree  that  the  true  doctrine  on  destiny 
 cannot  be  one  which  shocks  all  our  primary  notions  on  Divine  Justice,  to 
 say  nothing  of  Mercy.  The  beginning  of  human  life  in  every  case  being 
 in  feeblest  infancy,  it  cannot  possibly  be  true  that  a  dear  little  child  exists 
 now  in  a  state  of  reprobation ;  or,  if  it  depart,  will  go  even  into  the 
 "  mildest  hell "  that  St.  Augustine  could  imagine.  No  ;  there  is  a  great 
 change  here.  The  belief  in  just  and  awful  retribution  for  the  wilful  wasters 
 of  life,  for  wilful  depravity  of  soul,  for  foul  crimes  against  our  fellow-crea- 
 tures, for  o[)en  defiance  of  God  and  of  right — this  belief  in  just  retribution 
 for  distinct  wickedness  in  thought,  in  government,  in  administration,  in  a 
 punishment  for  wicked  war-makers,  oppressors  of  tiie  poor,  or  robbers  of 
 the  rich  :  this  faith  is  stronger  than  ever,  because  the  faith  in  Divine  justice 
 and  fnercy  is  stronger  still. 
 
 Thus  we  value  Independency,  because  it  distinctly  discourages  depen- 
 dence on  the  authority  of  priests  and  Churches — on  human  standards  of 
 faith— in  order  that  the  mind  may  be  free  to  ortler  its  belief  and  practice 
 by  the  standards  of  Original  Christianity. 
 
 Then,  again,  we  value  Independency  from  its  habit  of  drawing  a  sharp 
 line  between  the  function  of  the  State  with  its  hiw,  and  of  the  Church  with 
 its  Gospel;  and  for  the  steady  war  it  maintains  against  the  union  of  the 
 two. 
 
 The  State  is  the  organization  of  Justice;  the  Church  is  the  organization 
 of  Grace.  Any  attempt  to  unite  the  two  must  work  confusion  in  propor- 
 tion to  the  completeness  of  the  union,  by  adulterating  the  spirit  and 
 defeating  the  purposes  of  both.  The  State  is  a  beneficent  institution  for 
 the  assertion  and  protection  by  law  of  all  rights — of  life,  family,  property, 
 and  reputation  ;  and  these  rights  are  defended  by  force  and  vindicated  by 
 penalties  on  offenders.  Thus  the  magistrate  is  to  be  a  "  terror  to  evil- 
 doers," as  the  Christian  Apostle  himself  boldly  says.  If  the  magistrate, 
 under  the  guidance  of  a  spurious  humanitarianism  or  a  perverted  Chris- 
 tianity, fails  in  his  duty  to  the  evil-doer,  he  himself  deserves  the  punish- 
 ment which  he  failed  to  inflict.     The  Church  is  founded  on   the  idea  of 
 
 V 
 
INDEPENDENCY,    OR  LOCAL   CHURCH  GOVERNMENT.      557 
 
 l)ardon,  forgiveness,  forbearance  ;  and  is  a  special  society  of  believers,  who 
 thereby  become  brothers,  who  voluntarily  bind  themselves  to  forgive  and 
 overcome  evil  with  good.  They  are  organized  for  good  works  of  mercy, 
 for  truth-spreading,  for  saving  evil  doers,  for  teaching  the  young,  for  help- 
 ing the  poor,  for  practising  Christian  morality ;  finally,  for  maintaining 
 these  ends  by  a  "  discipline "  which  excludes  obstinately  hostile  ele- 
 ments. 
 
 It  is  impossible  to  conceive  of  two  societies  more  profoundly  differing  in 
 Iheir  principles,  ambitions,  methods,  and  aims,  when  each  is  confined  to 
 its  proper  function,  than  the  State  and  the  Church.  If  you  strive  to  unite 
 them,  what  you  call  to  establish  tiie  Church,  you  frustrate  the  ends  of  both. 
 You  soften  the  action  of  the  State  till  it  ceases  to  fight  as  it  ought  to  do 
 against  injustice  and  violent  wrong-doing,  by  both  rich  and  poor  ;  and  you 
 harden  and  secularize  the  Church,  and  convert  it  into  a  pale  shadow  of 
 the  State,  pious  in  aspect,  but  worldly  and  too  often  uninspired  within. 
 
 The  Independents  have  always  upheld  this  distinction,  and  their  ideas 
 have  made  way.  Disestablishment  is  a  long  process ;  it  has  passed  through 
 several  stages  already,  the  last  is  approaching ;  and  when  the  Church  of 
 England  is  disestablished,  we  hope  that  instead  of  holding  out  (under  lay 
 or  clerical  fanatics)  for  unalterable  adhesion  to  old  methods,  there  will  be 
 made  a  strong  endeavour  towards  local  union  with  all  good  Christians — 
 with  Christian  people  in  every  locality— after  the  model  of  Primitive 
 Christianity. 
 
 Lastly,  we  stand  for  Local  Church  Government  as  of  the  essence  of 
 permanent  freedom,  and  the  best  provision  for  needful  reforms. 
 
 It  is  the  belief  of  the  Independents  that  Church  fellowship  in  every  place 
 ought  to  be  broad  enough  to  include  all  practical  and  consistent  Christians, 
 and  narrow  enough  to  exclude  all  who,  whether  in  theory  or  practice,  offer 
 violence  to  essential  Christianity.  In  the  Apostolic  Churches  there  were 
 many  mistaken  notions  held  by  half-instructed  converts  to  Christ ;  but  the 
 remedy  was  found,  not  in  ready  excommunication,  but  in  greater  zeal  on 
 the  part  of  those  who  held  the  doctrine  of  the  Apostles.  Morally  bad  men 
 were  expelled  from  the  society,  until  they  repented,  as  we  see  in  St.  Paul's 
 Epistles  to  the  Corinthians  ;  but  persons  who  erred  on  the  question  of  the 
 Resurrection  were  reproved,  and  instructed  in  the  truth  ;  but  not  until 
 they  had  renounced  their  error  were  subjected  to  discipline.  A  large 
 local  society  receiving  all  practical  disciples  of  Christ,  and  not  limiting  its 
 numbers  by  the  size  of  any  building,  is  the  surest  guarantee  for  good  fellow- 
 ship, for  practical  good  works,  and  for  effective  reforms.  A  local  Church 
 might  use  several  buildings,  without  sacrificing  its  unity.  In  the  prospect 
 of  local  and  catholic  union  we  find  the  only  prospect  of  Christian  recon- 
 struction— a  great  society,  not  dominated  by  distant  sanhedrims,  nor  ruled 
 by  the  traditions  of  a  slavish  and  interested  hierarchy,  but  permeated  by 
 all  the  currents  of  the  best  thought  and  the  best  purposes  of  Christian 
 civilization.     The  people  who  live  in  puny  gangs  of  sympathizers  seldom 
 
b5« 
 
 RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 have  any  sympathy  to  spare  for  those  whom  they  regard  as  outsiders  and 
 heretics. 
 
 I  believe  that  these  statements,  as  far  as  they  go,  convey  a  true  idea  of 
 the  genius  of  Independency,  but  in  some  respects  an  imperfect  one,  since 
 the  missionary  spirit  is  one  grand  characteristic  of  those  Churches,  which 
 there  is  now  no  space  to  describe  or  consider. 
 
THE    PLACE   OF    BAPTISTS   IN    THE   EVOLU- 
 TION   OF    BRITISH    CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 By  John  Clifford,  M.A.,  D.D. 
 
 I. 
 
 RoTHE  calls  attention  to  the  ominous  circumstance  that  "  the  idea  of  tlie 
 kingdom  of  God,  which  occupies  so  prominent  a  position  amongst  ^the 
 ideas  of  Christ,  falls  into  the  background  in  the  minds  of  the  Apostles." 
 The  fact  is  as  undeniable  as  it  is  grave.  For  one  reference  to  the  "  king- 
 dom of  righteousness,  and  peace,  and  joy  "  in  the  letters  of  the  New 
 Testament,  there  are  at  least  a  dozen  in  tlie  reported  sayings  of  the  Master. 
 In  some  of  the  epistles,  you  are  rarely  out  of  hearing  of  the  clanking  and 
 grinding  of  ecclesiastical  or  controversial  machinery,  whereas  in  the  gospels, 
 the  kingdom  comes  without  observation ;  its  movements  are  quiet  as  the 
 healing  and  life-giving  light,  gentle  and  noiseless  as  the  growth  of  flowers 
 and  fruit.  Tiie  Apostles  are  so  engrossed  with  the  pressing  needs  of  the 
 new  societies  they  have  founded,  and  so  absorbed  by  the  difficulties  of 
 working  the  new  organizations  they  have  set  going,  that  although  they 
 never  lose  sight  of  their  King  or  of  His  kingdom,  yet  they  suffer  the 
 brilliant  conception  of  the  Divine  rule  of  justice,  mere}',  sweet  forgiving- 
 ness,  and  brotherly  love  to  pale  its  splendours  before  the  mean  moralities 
 and  mordant  controversies  of  their  first  converts.  Even  Paul,  who  always 
 construes  history  and  life  through  his  belief  in  Christ,  and  never  through 
 any  Church  theory  or  dogmatic  system,  does  not  escape  these  necessities ; 
 so  difficult  is  it  in  our  world  for  even  capable  and  heroic  men  "  to  keep 
 the  heights  the  soul  is  competent  to  gain." 
 
 (2)  That  was  the  fateful  beginning  of  a  long  and  disastrous  decline  from 
 the  ideal  of  Jesus.  The  history  of  Christianity,  British  and  universal,  is, 
 through  many  a  long  chapter,  the  story  of  the  contest  for  primacy  between 
 the  idea  of  Christ  as  to  the  "  Kingdom  of  God,"  and  the  ideas  of  men  as 
 to  the  Churches.  The  climate  in  which  Christianity  was  born  was  so 
 uncongenial  that,  to  use  the  imagery  of  Renan,  as  the  "  new-born  child 
 emerged  from  its  swaddling  clothes,  a  most  dangerous  sort  of  croup 
 threatened  to  choke  it."  The  air  was  laden  with  the  miasma  of  ritualism, 
 and  tlie  vision  of  men  soon  became  dim  to  the  essential  simplicity  and 
 dominant  spirituality  of  the  teaching  of  Christ.  Priestism,  that  has  never 
 touched  anything  without  corrupting  it,  thrust  itself  into  the  simple  socie- 
 ties of  disciples,  and  forthwith  battles  began  concerning  sacred  orders 
 and  lordly  hierarchies,  theological  systems  and  speculative  opinions.     Next 
 
 came   the   tyranny  of  the  intellect  over  the   whole   life  in   the  form   of 
 
 559 
 
56o  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    IVORLD. 
 
 Gnosticism  ;  and  men  ceased  to  think  deeply  and  practically  about  a  rale 
 of  God,  i.e.,  a  rule  of  real  goodness  and  purity,  of  sweet  reasonable- 
 ness and  tender  compassion,  of  sustained  righteousness  and  conquering 
 obedience  to  the  law  of  the  eternal.  Machinery  was  all  in  all,  and  love, 
 and  justice,  and  the  service  of  humanity  slipped  more  and  more  out  of 
 sight. 
 
 (3)  But  a  hopeful  change  is,  and  has  been  for  a  long  period,  in  progress. 
 A  true  philosophy  of  history  is  coming  into  vogue,  which  definitely  follows 
 the  method  of  Christ  and  gives  primary  rank  to  the  kingdom,  and  only  a 
 secondary  and  subordinate  one  to  the  priests  and  controversialists,  the 
 sectaries  and  dogmatists.  We  are  being  carried  slowly  but  surely  back  to 
 the  Gospel,  and  to  the  "  Gospel  of  the  kingdom,"  i.e.,  to  Christ's  way  of 
 looking  at  life,  and  thought,  and  progress,  seeing  them  as  they  lie  in  His 
 mind  and  according  to  His  ideal.  For  history  is  essentially  humanistic 
 and  by  no  means  ecclesiastical,  cares  little  for  doctrinal  disquisitions  and 
 much  for  practical  ideas  and  creative  principles,  ignores  the  fight  for  words 
 and  forms,  and  gives  distinction  to  aims  and  ideals.  It  winnows  the  chaft 
 from  the  wheat,  the  sense  from  the  soul,  the  form  from  the  reality,  the 
 high-sounding  claims  from  the  positive  victories  over  sin  and  crime,  disease 
 and  death.  It  is  never  sectarian,  but  always  broad  and  deep  as  the  purest 
 love.  It  is  not  Baptist  or  Anglican,  but  human,  and  its  insistent  question 
 is,  "  IVIiai  do  ye  more  than  others  1" — not  what  are  your  claims,  your 
 "articles,"  your  "orders;"  but  what  is  your  contribution  to  the  actual 
 needs  of  men,  your  ministry  to  the  poor  and  weak,  your  impact  and  inspira- 
 tion to  unselfish  service.  This  is  the  law  of  the  final  judgment,  and  it  is 
 sheer  waste  of  time  and  power  to  care  one  straw  about  any  other. 
 
 (4)  Nor  need  the  weakest  who  is  true,  and  the  most  despised  who  is 
 sincere,  fear  that  judgment.  A  true  philosophy  of  history  is  not  unrighteous 
 to  forget  any  work  that  has  in  the  slightest  degree  met  the  felt  needs  of 
 man  as  he  is  in  himself  and  in  his  relations  to  his  fellows.  History 
 despises  none  of  her  intellectual  or  ethical  forces,  whether  Catholic  or 
 Culturist,  Anglican  or  Quaker,  Comprehensionist  or  Separatist ;  but  rejoices 
 without  stint  in  the  gift  of  all  the  sons  of  men,  and  assures  us  it  would  be 
 as  wise  to  ignore  the  tiny  creatures  that  build  up  the  coral  islands  of  the 
 southern  seas  as  to  pass  by  any  one  of  these  contributions  to  the  spiritual 
 fulness  and  wealth  of  the  world. ^  Therefore,  the  life  and  work  of  Baptists 
 is  a  valuable  part  of  British  Christianity,  only  so  far  as  it  has  become  one 
 of  the  successive  steps  in  which  the  human  spirit  has  been  forced  onward 
 by  the  immanent  logic  of  the  religious  life  in  its  organic  development. 
 Service  to  humanity  in  its  higher  ranges  of  life  and  work  is  the  supreme 
 test  of  the  worth  of  Churclics.  No  society  can  escape  that  judgni  'nt,  nor 
 can  the  most  prosperous  and  ])opular  community  finally  confuse  it.  Each 
 Church  must  be  made  manifest  according  to  its  utterance  of  the  "  word," 
 
 •  Cf.  Dean  Stanley  in  Church  and  Chapd,  edited  by  R.  II.  Iladden,  pp.  xxxv.,  xxxvi. 
 
THE  BAPTISTS  AND  BRITISH  CHRISTIANITY.  561 
 
 and  offering  of  the  service  by  which   men  and  nations  really  live  and 
 securely  advance  towards  their  true  ethical  and  spiritual  goal. 
 
 II. 
 
 It  is  of  the  first  importance  to  keep  in  view  this  cardinal  law,  as  we 
 attempt  to  fix  the  place  of  Baptists  in  the  development  of  our  British 
 Christianity  ;  for  it  is  notorious  that  Baptists  have  an  extremely  poor  and 
 inconspicuous  place  in  the  grand  succession  of  majestic  heirarchies  and 
 colossal  system-builders  that  marches  along  the  centuries.  Baptists  have 
 done  nothing  for  the  methods  and  machinery  of  Christianity,  unless  it  is 
 that  they  have  shown  how  immeasurably  inferior  methods  and  machinery 
 are  to  intrinsic  conviction,  personal  faith,  and  passionate  devotion  to 
 high  ideals.  No  elaborate  organization  bears  our  name.  No  towering 
 ecclesiastical  edifice  has  been  built  by  our  hands.  No  ornate  and  splendid 
 ritual  has  come  forth  from  our  mint.  Xo  service,  rich  in  its  harmonies, 
 prolific  in  mystic  suggestion  and  entrancing  and  calming  at  once  with 
 blended  song  and  prayer  belongs  to  us.  We  cannot  even  claim  to  have 
 created  one  homogeneous  Baptist  Church  with  graded  officers,  binding 
 ceremonies,  authoritative  creed,  and  high  pontifical  dignitaries.  Few 
 great  organizing  personalities  have  appeared  amongst  us  ;  and  those  who 
 have  risen  have  had  to  confront  tremendous  difticulties  in  their  building 
 work.  An  Ignatius  Loyola,  vast  as  was  his  innate  power  of  attracting  and 
 commanding  men,  could  not  have  thriven  on  Baptist  fiire.  The  wonderful 
 genius  of  the  founder  of  Methodism  could  never  have  reared  his  beneficent 
 ^structure  on  our  principles.  Indeed,  we  are  not,  and  cannot  become,  a 
 mere  ecclesiastical  corporation  without  disloyalty  to  the  creative  ideas  and 
 living  convictions  which  gave  us  birth. 
 
 Of  course  we  are  not  entirely  without  machinery,  and  in  recent  years  a 
 marked  increase  has  slowly,  and  in  the  face  of  much  suspicion,  taken  place. 
 We  have  created  a  union  for  the  churches  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland, 
 in  addition  to  the  existing  associations  for  counties,  societies  for  missions, 
 and  for  the  education  of  preachers  and  various  funds  for  helping  the  weak 
 and  needy.  Our  foreign  missionary  organizations  have  become  colossal, 
 widespread  and  reproductive.  But  our  social  unit  is  still  held  in  its  integ- 
 rity to  be  that  which  was  settled  by  the  men  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
 viz.,  a  society  of  believers  in  Christ ;  a  society  self-contained,  rigidly  self- 
 governed,  and  strenuously  independent.  In  a  certain  characteristic  way, 
 we  have  assented  to  the  saying  of  the  philosopher  Lotze  that  "  mechanism 
 is  everywhere  essential,  but  everywhere  subordinate  ; "  but  whilst  the  latter 
 clause  is  affirmed  with  energy,  the  former  is  met  with  the  inbred  scepticism 
 that  Avatches  the  machinery  with  nervous  dread  lest  we  should  be  caught 
 in  its  revolving  wheels  and  lose  our  free  and  joyous  life.  Knowing  how 
 ofien  organizations  have  become  the  iron  sceptre  of  the  theological  or 
 ■ecclesiastical  despot,  the  Baptist  has  elected  to  diminish  his  immediate 
 
 VOL.  I.  —  pt.  2.  p  p 
 
562  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 social  efficienc  y,  rather  than  risk  his  freedom  to  act  according  to  his  own 
 conscience. 
 
 (2)  Therefore  the  place  of  Baptists  in  British  Christianity  is  not  to  be 
 looked  for  amongst  its  compact  synods  and  priestly  assemblies,  but  in  the 
 neighbourhood  of  the  humble  and  ignoble  {qw  who,  single-handed  or  in 
 small  companies,  have  striven  to  increase  the  vitality  of  the  intellectual 
 and  spiritual  contents  of  Christianity  by  glcnci/ig  enthusiasin  /or  ideas. 
 They  belong  to  the  men  who,  in  the  judgment  of  their  practical  contem- 
 poraries have  been  the  vulgar  and  deluded  victims  of  far-shining  illusions, 
 vacuous  dreamers  of  impossible  Utopias,  pinched  fanatics  who  have  dis- 
 dained the  bread  of  this  world  and  nourished  their  faith  and  fortitude  on 
 airy  and  unsubstantial  visions  of  God  and  duty.  Ideas  have  made  them, 
 shaped  their  movements,  fed  their  heroism  in  martyr  flames,  and  inspired 
 their  quenchless  zeal.  Even  the  wild  and  frantic  struggles  of  the  Ana- 
 baptists of  Holland  were  sustained  by  the  notions — that,  if  God  had  a 
 kingdom  at  all,  it  should  be  here  on  this  earth,  a  boon  to  suffering  men  : 
 that,  His  inspirations  could  not  be  partial,  exclusive,  limited  to  castes  and 
 orders,  but  must  be  free  for  all  souls  that  sincerely  sought  Him  ;  and  when 
 the  General  Baptists  started  into  life  in  the  first  and  second  decades  of  the 
 seventeenth  century,  it  was  under  the  magnetic  spell  of  the  doctrines  of 
 "  Liberty  of  Conscience,"  '•  Freedom  to  worship  God,"  "  Salvation  for  every- 
 body," the  sovereignty  of  the  soul  in  religion,  and  the  absolute  and  un- 
 questioned monarchy  of  Christ  over  the  conscience  and  over  all  life. 
 
 "  O  Tiutli  1  O  P'rcedcMii  I  how  are  ye  still  born 
 111  the  rude  stable,  in  the  manger  nursed  ; 
 AMiat  humble  hands  unbar  those  gates  of  morn, 
 
 Through  which  the  splendours  of  the  new  day  bur>t  ?  " 
 
 (3)  Is  it  not  then  one  of  the  ghastly  ironies  of  history  that  after  tliree 
 centuries  of  existence  the  one  idea  of  the  Baptists  that  has  chief  currency 
 amongst  outsiders  is,  that  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  they 
 were  simple  enough  to  give  vitality  on  British  soil  to  the  ancient  practice 
 of  immersion  as  the  right  mode  of  baptism — a  symbol,  it  is  commonly 
 alleged  by  opponents,  that  in  its  Oriental  home  may  have  been  appropriate 
 and  useful  enough ;  but  in  the  frigid  North,  and  amongst  reasoning  Wes- 
 terns, can  never  appear  other  than  a  "demorali.-;ing  fetichism"?  Is  it  not 
 strange  that  the  poi)iilar  label  of  one  of  the  most  anti-ritualistic  and  spiritual 
 of  societies  should  fix  attention  on  a  method  and  not  on  a  conviction,  on 
 a  form  and  not  on  an  idea?  It  is  a  sad  fate,  and  we  must  bear  it  as  cheer- 
 fully as  we  can.^  "  Baptism  by  immersion"  says  the  Rev.  Brooke  Lam- 
 bert, Vicar  of  Greenwich,  "  is  strictly  no  peculiarity  of  the  Baptist  sect. 
 The  rubrics  of  our  Church  {i.e.,  the  Episcopal  C'hurch)  make  baptism  by 
 immersion  the  rule.     It  prescribes  baptism  by  immersion,   'if  tliey  shall 
 
 '  In  an  appendix  on  llie  different  denominations  in  Chttrch  auii  Chnpc!,  there  are  seven 
 grave  mistakes  within  the  space  of  the  first  thirteen  lines  treating  of  the  Baptists,  pp. 
 99,  100. 
 
THE   BAPTISTS  AND  BRITISH  CHRISTIANITY.  563 
 
 certify  that  the  child  may  well  endure  it,  but  if  they  certify  that  the  child 
 is  weak,  it  shall  suffice  to  pour  water  upon  it.'  The  exception  has  by 
 custom  become  the  rule."  ^  Moreover,  it  is  a  needless  and  careless  mis- 
 representation to  assign  the  motif  of  Baptist  existence  to  a  rite  in  any  sense 
 whatever  ;  for  as  a  matter  of  historic  fact  they  do  not  take  their  place  in 
 the  annals  of  British  Christianity  from  special  interest  in  the  form  of  a 
 ceremony  as  such,  but  from  those  great  formative  ideas  which  are  the 
 impelling  powers  of  our  modern  life,— ideas  concerning  the  human  soul 
 and  intrinsic  religion  ;  the  human  soul  and  personal  liberty  ;  the  human 
 soul  and  the  province  of  the  state.- 
 
 III. 
 
 In  order  to  verify  that  assertion  let  us  glance  for  a  moment  at  the  won- 
 derful "  revolt "  of  individualism  against  authority  in  Church  and  State, 
 which  fills  so  large  a  space  in  the  annals  of  our  race  under  the  name  of  the 
 "new  birth  or  KcuaissanccP  "Revolutions,"  it  has  been  said,  "raise 
 questions."  The  Renaissance  was,  in  this  respect,  singularly  prolific,  and 
 not  even  yet  are  the  authentic  answers  to  those  questions  fully  to  hand. 
 It  was,  in  its  larger  and  later  issues,  the  awakening  and  regeneration  of  the 
 intellect  of  Europe  by  the  resurrection  of  the  forgotten  literature  of  the 
 ancient  world, — a  resurrection  disclosing  a  richer  civilization,  a  clearer 
 thought,  a  finer  style,  and  a  truer  life  ;  and  becoming  a  mirror  in  which 
 the  men  of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  saw  themselves  ;  a  stan- 
 dard by  which  they  judged  their  conduct  and  achievements,  and  a  starting- 
 point  from  which  they  went  forward  to  secure  the  spiritual  and  political 
 renewal  of  the  world. 
 
 That  recovered  literature  was  Christian  as  well  as  classical,  and  carried 
 men  back  to  Jerusalem  and  Christ  as  well  as  to  Athens  and  Socrates,  so 
 that  the  men  who  shrunk  self-condemned,  when  they  compared  their  cor- 
 rupt life  with  classical  attainment,  could  not  withhold  their  censures  from 
 the  professors  and  organizations  of  Christianity  when  they  found  their  pro- 
 digious departure  from  the  original  purpose  and  plan  of  the  Founder  of 
 the  Christian  religion.  Indeed  they  asked,  "  Was  it  Christ's  Church  at 
 all?"  Did  it  breathe  His  Spirit?  Was  it  doing  His  work?  Ought  they 
 not  to  go  back  to  Apostolic  training  as  the  only  way  of  realizing  at  once  the 
 idea  of  Christ,  the  deliverance  of  Europe  from  death,  and  the  fuller  educa- 
 tion of  the  human  race  ? 
 
 At  that  time  there  was  no  question  of  equal  gravity.  It  was  the  "  blaz- 
 ing "  subject  of  the  hour.  No  topic  required  so  much  daring  in  those  who 
 handled  it;  so  much  steadfast  heroism  in  those  who  were  prepared  to  follow 
 their  answer  to  its  legitimate  issues.  It  was  a  new  question,  and  it  was  as 
 revolutionary  as  it  was  new.    Merely  to  put  it  suggested  to  many  minds  the 
 
 ^  Church  and  Chapel,  edited  by  R.  II.  Hadden,  p.  3. 
 -  Cf.  Lazarus.     Flint's  Philosophy  of  History,  p.  583. 
 
564  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD 
 
 profanest  hardihood,  and  Hfted  whirlwinds  of  scorn.  Ineftably  worse  was 
 it  then,  to  ask,  "  Is  the  State  Church  the  new  Testament  Church  ? " 
 '•  Ought  all  parishioners  to  be  Church  members  ?"  than  it  is  to  ask  to-day, 
 "Is  there  a  God?"  "  Is  the  Bible  true  ?"  "  Is  Christianity  historically 
 verifiable  ?  "  and  the  men  who  put  the  inquiry  had  to  be  ready  for  banish- 
 ment to  the  wilds  of  America,  or  the  more  genial  refuge  of  Holland,  or 
 even  for  martyrdom,  if  the  response  they  found  carried  them  into  opposition 
 to  the  reigning  notions  of  the  hour,  and  to  the  State-supported  and  State- 
 defended  religious  institutions  of  the  day. 
 
 Do  not  let  us  disguise  this  fact.  Whatever  English  Baptists  may  be  and 
 do  no-iv,  it  is  certain  their  origin  is  }iot  due  to  the  quiet  investigation  ot 
 two  or  three  passages  of  Scripture  concerning  the  way  in  which  believers 
 in  Christ  should  be  baptized ;  whether  by  sprinkling,  by  pouring,  or  by 
 dipping;  whether  once  or  three  times;  nor  to  the  rejection  of  Infant 
 baptism  ;  nor  even  to  the  denial  of  the  magical  sacramental  efficacy  ot 
 baptism  :  it  goes  far  deeper,  and  includes  immeasurably  more,  'i'he 
 Baptist  Church  sprang  into  being,  as  other  Churches  did  in  that  day — not 
 from  wild  fanaticism  ;  not  from  excessive  vanity  ;  not  from  questions  of 
 much  or  little  water  in  a  rite,  but  from  unswerving  loyalty  to  God  ;  from 
 a  profoundly  religious  effort  to  form  a  visible  Christian  Church  after  the 
 idea  and  according  to  the  teaching  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  Himself.  It  was 
 a  real  human  struggle  for  the  realization  of  Divine  ideas,  born  out  of  the 
 love  of  God  and  the  desire  for  the  establishment  of  His  reign  upon  earth. 
 Baptist  history  is  therefore  a  bush  aflame  with  the  presence  of  God,  and 
 the  ground  it  covers  is  not  less  holy  than  that  on  which  Moses,  with  bared 
 feet,  stood  hopeful,  yet  trembling,  as  near  to  the  God  of  Israel. 
 
 (2)  The  story  of  the  origin  of  the  British  Baptists  is  then  a  fragment  of 
 the  larger  story,  first  of  the  Renaissance,  and  next  of  what  we  call  the  Pro- 
 testant Reformation  ;  and  takes  rank  by  the  side  of  those  thrilling  chapters 
 of  our  annals  which  narrate  the  work  of  John  Wycliffe  and  his  preachers, 
 of  the  humanist  Erasmus  and  Dean  Colet,  the  separation  of  England  from 
 Rome,  tlie  appearance  and  mission  of  the  Puritans,  the  rise  and  progress 
 of  the  Separatists  and  Brownists,  Independents  and  Quakers.  Erasmus, 
 the  most  brilliant  representative  of  the  humanistic  culture  of  the  fifteenth 
 and  sixteenth  centuries,  had  issued,  in  1502,  his  Enchiridion  militis  Christ- 
 iani,  "  to  counteract  the  errors  of  those  who  place  piety  in  ceremonies  and 
 external  observances,  but  neglect  its  very  essence."  To  that  he  had  added, 
 in  15 16,  the  Greek  New  Testament,  througli  which  men  heard  the  Master 
 Himself  speaking  as  in  the  first  days.  By  these  and  other  publications,  by 
 lectures  and  letters,  this  unrivalled  scholar  and  teacher  was  aiding  in  formu- 
 lating the  answer  of  the  intellect  and  conscience  to  the  question  of  the  age, 
 concerning  Christ  and  the  Church,  in  terms  which  excluded  at  once 
 the  Pope  and  ilie  Papacy,  sacerdotalism  and  ceremonialism,  and  all  un- 
 reality. 
 
 Then   came  amongst   us  William    Tyndall,   fanning  into  a    flame  the 
 
THE   BAPTISTS  AXI)   nRITlSII  CHRISTIANITY.  565 
 
 smouldering  embers  of  Lollardism,  rousing  into  new  and  fuller  life  the 
 recipients  of  the  message  of  Wycliffe,  by  sending  forth  the  New  Testa- 
 ment in  an  English  version,  which  in  substance  is  still  in  use  amongst  us- 
 It  only  needed  that  the  capacious,  passionate,  and  irresistible  soul  of 
 Luther  should  be  set  on  fire  and  peal  forth  with  its  new  energy  through 
 Europe  like  thunder  echoing  amongst  Alpine  hills,  and  Protestantism 
 leaped  forth,  armed  and  weaponed  for  war  from  which  it  can  only  cease 
 when  its  work  for  man  is  fully  accomplished. 
 
 (3)  But  the  answers  to  the  questions  of  the  ages  come  slowly,  and  at 
 the  cost  of  much  struggle,  suffering,  and  blood.  British  Protestantism  was 
 at  first  a  very  sickly  child.  Royal,  ecclesiastic,  and  theological  nurses 
 were  so  timorous  of  change,  and  so  reluctant  to  part  with  the  proved  follies 
 of  the  past,  that  they  went  far  to  destroy  it.  Therefore  it  was  not  long 
 before  there  grew  by  the  side  of  it,  if  not  actually  from  it,  a  second  Protes- 
 tantism, with  a  sharper  accent,  a  more  decided  ring,  carrying  the  revolt 
 against  the  paganized  Christianity  of  the  Papacy  to  a  further  extreme. 
 They/nV  protest  was  mainly  against  the  Pope  of  Rome  and  his  jurisdiction 
 in  these  realms.  The  second  protest  was  an  endorsement  of  the  first,  but 
 it  went  beyond  it,  and  protested  with  even  a  stronger  vehemence  against 
 copes,  stoles,  and  altars,  and  the  priestly  dogmas,  practices,  and  parapher- 
 nalia of  the  Roman  Catholic  hierarchy.  Protestantism  had  inevitably  i)ro- 
 tested  itself  into  Puritanism.  It  must  be  so.  Protestantism  was  essentially 
 and  centrally  part  of  a  return  to  the  Divine  Original  oi  Christian  faith  and 
 practice  in  the  Scriptures  ;  and  once  on  that  road,  Protestantism  could  not 
 be  a  finality.  Puritanism  was  the  logical  issue  of  the  Protestant  spirit, 
 a  clearer  and  more  adequate  solution  of  the  problem  of  the  hour.  As 
 Carlyle  says,  it  was  "  one  of  the  noblest  heroisms  ever  transacted  on  this 
 earth,"  and  owed  its  rise  to  the  direct  appeal  to  the  recovered  literature 
 of  Paul  and  Peter ;  and  its  surprising  energy  and  rapid  progress  were  also 
 due  to  the  tremendous  impulse  given  to  the  religious  life  of  the  nation, 
 about  the  middle  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  by  the  circulation  of  those  same 
 Scriptures.  The  Bible  became  the  chief  literature  of  England ;  its  fable 
 and  its  history,  its  poetry  and  its  philosophy,  its  manual  of  practice,  and  its 
 guide  and  inspiration  to  devotion — so  that  Grotius  said  of  this  country, 
 ten  years  after  the  Queen's  death,  "  Theology  rules  there ;  "  and 
 Professor  Green  affirms  that  "  the  whole  nation  had  become,  in  fact,  a 
 Church."  1 
 
 (4)  Is  that  the  last  answer  to  the  question  of  the  age?  Has  Puritanism, 
 with  its  deep  inwardness,  strong  idealism,  and  severe  discipline,  reached 
 finality  ?  No  !  "  the  coming  life  -  cry  is  always  on  ;  "  the  humanistic, 
 biblical  and  spiritual  forces  at  work  in  the  English  nation,  revolutionizing 
 its  religious  ideas  and  practices,  could  not  stop  there.  As  the  first  protest 
 led  on  to  the  second,  so  the  second  led  on  a  tliird. 
 
 Puritanism  advanced  to   Separatism.     Bodies   of  men  appeared   who 
 ^  History  of  the  English  People,  449. 
 
566  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OE   THE    WORLD. 
 
 were  unwilling  to  admit  that  the  Church  of  England,  even  if  reformed 
 according  to  the  Genevan  pattern,  was  a  true  Church  of  Christ.  A  deeper 
 Reformation  was  requisite  than  a  change  of  dress  and  of  ritual.  IVie  terms 
 of  member sJiip  required  alteration.  "  It  is  contrary,"  said  the  Separatists,  "  to 
 the  will  of  Christ  that  the  area  of  the  Church  should  be  fixed  by  the  area  of 
 the  land.  We  are  profoundly  convinced  that  the  practical  reform  of  the 
 spiritual  life  of  England  can  never  be  realized  in  connection  with  that  par- 
 ochial system  of  churches  which  considers  all  baptised  persons  to  be  re- 
 deemed children  of  God,  until  excommunication  has  furnished  proof  to  the 
 contrary."  Thus  a  third  form  of  Protestanism  arose,  more  advanced  than 
 the  second,  and  inculcating  the  necessity  of  forming  "  particular  churches." 
 Eed  by  Robert  Browne  (an  "erratic  individual,"  according  to  Fuller  and 
 INIasson),  Henry  Barrowe,  Francis  Johnson,  John  Penry,  John  Greenwood, 
 and  Henry  Jacob,  such  separated  churches  grew  exceedingly,  and,  accord- 
 ing to  Green,  numbered  20,000  souls  in  the  middle  of  Elizabeth's  reign. 
 Some  of  these  churches  were  called  Brownists,  after  Robert  Browne,  and 
 subsequently  Independents,  from  their  assertion  of  the  sufficiency  of  the 
 Church  to  care  for  and  govern  itself,  and  their  death-defying  insistence 
 upon  the  principle  that  the  Church  of  Christ  ought  not  to,  and  could  not, 
 consist  of  any  but  those  who  were  really  believers  in  Him,  and  avowedly 
 subject  to  His  authority.  They  vehemently  opposed  the  pernicious  doc- 
 trine of  sponsorship,-  and  would  not  accept  the  theory  of  Whitgift  and 
 Hooker,  that  the  nation  makes  the  Church,  and  that  being  born  in  a  parish 
 of  the  nation  gives  a  right  to  be  in  the  Church  of  Christ.  Strongly,  and 
 even  Tiercel)',  they  denounced  the  deed  by  which  "  in  one  day,  with  the 
 blast  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  trumpet,"  ignorant  papist  and  gross  idolaters  were 
 made  faithful  Christians  and  true  professors.''  The  unit  of  the  Church  of 
 Christ  is,  and  always  must  be,  a  Christian  man. 
 
 (5)  Now  out  of  these  Separatists,  with  their  cardinal  principle  that  the 
 members  of  a  New  Testament  Church  should  be  Christians,  grew  logically 
 and  inevitably  the  En(;lish  IUptists.  The  first  protest  was  against 
 Romanism  as  concentrated  in  a  pope,  and  subjecting  the  king  of  this  land 
 to  his  authority  ;  the  second  protest  was  against  all  papal  practices,  and  in 
 favour  of  getting  rid  of  a  prelacy  and  bringing  in  synodical  authority  ; 
 the  third  protest  was  against  the  inclusion  of  all  the  subjects  of  the  king 
 in  the  Church,  irrespective  of  their  spiritual  character,  and  in  favour,  ultim- 
 ately, of  the  self-governing  powers  of  each  separate  Ciiristian  society  ;  but 
 still,  INFANTS  were  included,  at  least  the  infants  of  Christian  parents,  and 
 yet  how  could  they  be  personally  conscious  Christians  ?  how  could  they 
 aid  in  the  government  of  a  Church  ?  ^\■hat  spiritual  character  had  they  to 
 (qualify  them  for  membership?  It  was  certain  as  to-morrow  that  a  fourth 
 r-ROTEST  should  come.     The    forces  of  the   living  word,  and  of  their  own 
 
 '  Green,  Hislory  of  the  English  People,  459. 
 
 -   Dr.  H.  L.  Dexter,  Con^^rcgationalism  as  seen  in  its  Literature,  77- 
 
 ^  Henry  Barrowc's  BrieJ  Description  of  the  Ealse  Church  (1590),  p.   10. 
 
THE   BAPTISTS   AND  BRITISH   CHRISTIANITY.  567 
 
 failh  impelled  them  to  oppose  the  inclusion  of  any  persons  in  the  Church 
 of  Christ  Jesus,  excepting  such  as  intelligently  and  consciously  received 
 Him,  and  were  possessed  of  His  Divine  life.     That  Fourth  Protest 
 
 WAS    MADE    I!Y   THE    ENGLISH    BAPTISTS,    AND  IS  THEIR    HISTORICAL  RoOT. 
 
 To  cite  the  language  of  one  of  these,  they  reasoned  thus  :  "  The  Sepa- 
 ration must  either  go  back  to  England  {i.e.  the  English  Church),  or  forward 
 to  true  Baptism  ;  all  that  shall  in  time  to  come  separate  from  England 
 must  sejiarate  from  the  Baptism  of  England  ;  and  if  they  will  not  separate 
 Irom  the  Baptism  of  England,  there  is  no  reason  why  they  should  separate 
 from  England  as  from  a  false  Church."  Right  as  far  as  they  went,  yet  the 
 Separatists  and  Independents  did  not  go  far  enough  to  satisfy  these  root 
 and  branch  men.  They  had  got  firm  grip  of  a  principle,  and  they  were 
 willing  to  go  with  it  wherever  it  might  take  them.  They  were  contending 
 for  eternal  realities.  The  battle  was  not  about  words,  but  spiritual  facts. 
 Christ  Jesus  was  central  to  His  Church,  and  a  living  personal  and  con- 
 scious relation  to  Him  was  the  fundamental  condition  of  fellowship  in  His 
 societies.  Personal  faith  in,  and  personal  subjection  to,  the  Lord  Jesus, 
 is  all  and  in  all.  But  faith  is  a  conscious  act.  It  requires  intelligence. 
 It  involves  will.  It  is  not  possible  to  a  babe  ;  therefore  babes  have  no  more 
 right  in  the  Church  of  the  New  Testament  because  they  are  born  in  a 
 Christian  family  than  l^inglishmen  have  perforce  a  right  in  the  Church 
 because  they  are  born  in  a  Christian  parish.  The  principle  which  ex- 
 cludes the  parishioner  allows  no  place  to  the  babe.  So  they  reasoned, 
 so  they  felt  and  acted,  and  thus  English  Baptists  came  into  being  as 
 a  vital  and  enduring  product  of  the  great  Protestant  Reformation,  and 
 ill  fact  advancing  that  reform  a  stage  farther  than  it  had  before 
 marched,  but  along  its  own  original  lines  of  the  pre-eminence  of  the 
 Scriptures,  and  the  absolute  necessity  of  a  really  personal  godliness. 
 It  was  a  logical  and  conclusive  application  of  the  governing  rules  and 
 controlling  spirit  of  Puritanism,  carrying  if  we  may  mathematically 
 express  it,  Protestantism  up  to  its  fifth  power,  as  a  denial  of  the  right  of 
 men  to  substitute  any  merely  external  conditions  and  accidental  circum- 
 stances, for  a  living,  sincere,  and  real  faith  in  Christ,  and  a  hearty 
 personal  subjection  to  His  august  authority. 
 
 This,  then,  is  demonstrated.  Baptists  are  the  last  response  but  one  given 
 to  the  question  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries.  What  is  reli- 
 gion in  its  essence  and  spirit?  that  last  answer  being  supplied  by  the 
 '•Friends  "or  Quakers  who  have  abolished  all  ordinances  and  insisted  on 
 the  exclusively  spiritual  nature  of  all  religion  and  all  worship.  The  genea- 
 logical tree  of  the  British  Christianity  of  those  centuries  may  be  labelled, 
 so  far  as  our  present  inquiry  extends.  Humanist  in  root,  Protestant  in  bole  ; 
 then  the  first  branch  is  Puritan,  the  second  Separatist,  the  third  Indepen- 
 dent, the  fourth  Baptist.  Thus  history  energetically  repudiates  the  domi- 
 nant notion  that  the  Baptist  became  a  Baptist  because  he  made  much  01 
 baptism.     It  was  the  reverse ;  it  was  because   he   made  little  of  it,  and 
 
568  RELfGTOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 fixed  the  supreme  emphasis  on  the  inward  and  ethical  quaUfication  for  the 
 rite.  It  is  not  he,  but  the  Romanist  who  makes  much  of  the  act  when  he 
 says  in  the  language  of  the  Council  of  Trent :  "  Whoever  shall  affirm  that 
 baptism  is  indifferent — i.e.  not  necessary  to  salvation — let  him  be  ac- 
 cursed."^ It  is  not  he,  but  the  Anglican,  who  makes  much  of  baptism, 
 when  he  declares  that  that  prophet-statesman  of  our  age,  John  Bright, 
 could  not  be  a  Christian  because  "  he  had  not  been  made  one  by  the  Sacra- 
 ment of  Baptism,  and  to  treat  an  unbaptized  man  as  one  who  has  been 
 baptized  is  to  regard  that  Sacrament  as  a  sham."  It  is  not  he,  but  the 
 Prayer-Book,  which  says  that  baptism  makes  anybody  "a  member  of 
 Christ,  the  child  of  God,  and  an  inheritor  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
 The  Baptist  comes  to  his  place  in  British  Christianity  in  a  great  and 
 sustained  struggle  for  reality,  sincerity,  soul ;  for  ridding  religion  of  all 
 sham  and  pretence,  by  insisting  on  personal  faith,  personal  love,  and  mercy 
 and  justice,  on  pure  aims  and  high  ideals. 
 
 IV. 
 
 It  is  part  of  the  irresistible  logic  of  the  spiritual  life  that  those  who  have 
 been  so  resolute  in  the  assertion  of  the  inwardness  of  religion,  the  inviol- 
 able sacredness  of  the  human  unit,  and  the  unfettered  sovereignty  of  the 
 soul,  should  also  contend  for  that  soul's  perfect  freedom  from  all  external 
 authority,  whether  of  creeds  or  churches,  synods  or  states.  The  few 
 Baptists  who  had  taken  their  place  in  the  "  extreme  left,"  and  formed  the 
 beginning  of  the  "  Radical  "  wing  of  the  Protestant  host,  were  therefore 
 in  the  likeliest  position  to  catch  first  sight  of  the  new  conception  of  intel- 
 lectual and  religious  liberty,  swimming  into  the  clearing  heavens  of  the 
 dawning  century  like  a  new  planet  through  the  stellar  spaces. 
 
 It  is  the  unequivocal  testimony  of  historians,  that  Britain  owes  to  Baj)- 
 tists  what  has  been  called  "  the  noblest  innovation  of  modern  times,"  the 
 idea  of  intellectual  and  spiritual  freedom.  I  do  not  forget  the  great 
 scholar  Abelard,  who  was  one  of  the  earliest  to  maintain  the  principle  of 
 individualism  against  the  authority  of  the  C'hurch,  nor  his  famous  pupil 
 Arnold  of  Brescia,  who  in  the  twelfth  century  applied  the  principle  of  free 
 inquiry  to  the  claims  of  popes  and  bishops  to  exercise  power  as  secular 
 princes  :  nor  the  potent  sway  of  those  poet-humanists — Dante,  Petrarch, 
 Boccaccio ;  but  that  able  and  fair-minded  student.  Dr.  Gardiner,  says  in 
 his  recently  published  History  of  tlie  Great  Civil  War  : — 
 
 "  Exposed  as  they  were  to  contempt  and  persecution,  the  Baptists  early 
 rallied  to  the  doctrine  of  a  complete  separation  between  Church  and 
 Slate.  In  1612  or  1613,  an  English  P>aptist  Congregation  at  Amsterdam 
 declared  its  belief  that  " ///^  ina\:;istrate  is  not  to  meddle  wii/i  religion  or 
 matters  of  conscience,  nor  compel  men  to  this  or  that  form  of  religion,  because 
 Christ  is  the  King  and  Lawgiver  of  the  Church  and  conscience.''     This  idea 
 
 *  Canon  5.     Cf.  also  Canon  ij. 
 
77//;   HAPTISTS  AND  BRITISH  CHRISTIANITY.  569 
 
 firmly  took  root  amongst  tlie  Baptists,  and  found  expression  from  time  to 
 time  in  petitions  and  pamphlets,  which  were  far  more  thorough  in  their 
 claim  that  liberty  of  conscience  was  the  right  of  all  men  than  those  put  for- 
 ward by  the  ordinary  Separatists."  ' 
 
 Professor  Masson,  in  his  Life  of  Milton,  says,  referring  to  the  above,  this 
 is  "  the  first  expression  of  the  absolute  principle  of  liberty  of  conscience 
 in  the  public  articles  of  any  body  of  Christians."  Thomas  Helwise,  who 
 had  the  chief  hand  in  drawing  up  this  document,  was  John  Smyth's  suc- 
 cessor, and  he  drew  around  him  some  unforgetable  men.  Leonard 
 Busher,  who  publislied  the  first  English  tract  on  "  Liberty  of  Conscience," 
 in  1614,  was  one  of  his  flock  ;  and  John  ^[orton,  who  sent  out  a  tractate 
 entitled,  "Objections  Answered  by  Way  of  Dialogue,  wherein  is  proved 
 by  the  Law  of  Cod,  by  the  Law  of  our  Land,  and  by  His  Majesty's  ISIany 
 Testimonies,  that  no  man  ought  to  be  Persecuted  for  his  Religion,  so  he 
 Testify  his  Allegiance  by  the  Oath  appointed  by  Law,"  was  his  assis- 
 tant. 
 
 Thus,  as  Professor  Masson  says,  "  from  a  dingy  meeting-house,  some 
 where  in  Old  London,  there  Hashed  out  first  in  England  the  absolute  doc- 
 trine of  Religious  Liberty."  And  more  decisively  he  says,  "  Not  to  the 
 ('hurch  of  England,  however,  nor  to  Scottish  Presbyterianism,  nor  to 
 English  Puritanism  at  large,  does  the  honour  of  the  first  perception  of  the 
 full  principle  of  liberty  of  conscience,  and  its  first  assertion  in  English 
 speech,  belong.  That  honour  has  to  be  assigned,  I  believe,  to  the  Inde- 
 pendents generall) ,  and  to  the  Baptists  in  particular."  There  is  no  doubt, 
 then,  that  the  Oeneral  Baptists  may,  in  the  face  of  the  present  evidence, 
 keep  tlieir  forward  rank  as  the  first  promulgators  of  the  absolute  doctrine 
 of  religious  liberty.- 
 
 (2)  But  to  assess  that  service  at  its  exact  value,  we  must  recall  the  ruling 
 ideas  and  forces  of  parliaments  and  churches  in  16 12.  Vast  and  far-reach- 
 ing as  were  the  changes  introduced  by  the  Renaissance  and  the  Reform- 
 ation, there  was  not  a  Protestant  Church  in  Europe  that  had  nobleness  and 
 love  enough  to  find  room  for  the  principle  of  religious  liberty,  or  even  of 
 toleration  of  differences  in  religious  belief  and  practice.  Man  most  re- 
 luctantly parts  with  his  right  as  a  brute  to  persecute  so  long  as  he  can. 
 Somehow  he  will  play  the  tyrant  to  the  full  length  of  his  power,  and  if  in 
 the  mutations  of  the  ages  he  grows  ashamed  of  the  rack  and  thumbscrew, 
 and  the  prison  and  the  fire,  he  is  surprisingly  inventive,  and  deftly  prepares 
 numberless  disguises  for  carrying  out  his  inquisitorial  tyranny.  Even  yet 
 we  have  little  more  than  full  liberty  to  be  religious  after  the  fashion  of  the 
 hour,  and  in  accordance  with  the  wish  or  whim  of  the  majority.     Dissent 
 
 '^  Dr.  S.  R.  Gardiner,  History  of  the  Great  Civil  War.  1642-44,  336,  337. 
 
 -  '•  II  is  not  only  uninercifiil,  hut  unnatural  and  abominable  ;  yea  monstrous  for  one 
 Christian  to  vex  and  destroy  another  for  difference  and  questions  of  religion."  "  Busher's 
 Religious  Peace  ;  or,  a  Plea  for  liberty  of  Conscience."  Reprinted  in  Dr.  UnderhilPs 
 Tracts  on  "  Liberty  of  Conscience,  etc.,"  1846,  p.  24. 
 
570  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 is  still  costly,  and  if  you  venture  towards  the  dissidence  of  dissent,  and 
 the  thorough-going  practice  of  freedom  in  judgment  and  faith,  you  may 
 expect  to  be  assiduously  pursued  with  unrelenting  bitterness  and  unscrupu- 
 lous hostility. 
 
 But  in  1600  persecution  rioted  in  all  its  brutal  ferocity.  Germany  and 
 Switzerland,  England  and  Scotland  inflicted  civil  disabilities  on  those  who 
 did  not  conform  to  the  State-established  (Jhurch.  'J"he  Inquisition  was 
 victorious  in  Spain  ;  the  League  in  France  worked  for  the  extirpation  of 
 unbelievers.  In  I'.ngland  heresy  was  an  offence  punishable  by  death  for 
 135  years  after  the  Reformation,  and  it  was  not  till  1677  that  an  act  was 
 passed  abolishing  the  writ  for  burning  heretics.  Xor  were  the  churches 
 more  enlightened.  Even  those  who  flung  off  the  shackles  of  ecclesiastical 
 bondage  for  themselves  were  busy  forging  fetters  for  others.  The  changes 
 in  religion  were  at  first  mainly  changes  in  tyrants  ;  a  substitution  for  the 
 infallibility  they  opposed  of  another  not  less  self-willed,  intrusive  and  per- 
 secuting ;  the  removal  of  a  pope  and  his  cardinals  to  give  room  for  a  king 
 and  his  clergy.  They  did  not  battle  for  liberty  as  liberty,  but  only  for  that 
 liberty  that  enabled  them  to  hold  and  teach  what  they  pleased,  and  to  re- 
 press and  punish  all  who  dared  to  dissent.  Presbyterians  shared  the 
 Romanist  intolerance,  and  fought  for  a  domination  not  less  exacting  so 
 that  they  might  get  rid  of  those  pestiferous  people,  the  Papists  and  Baptists, 
 the  Quakers  and  Socinians.  Milton  read  and  interpreted  aright  the  signs 
 of  the  times  when  he  said  that  "  new  presbyter  was  but  old  priest  writ 
 large."  ("alvin,  a  man  intrinsically  noble,  building  his  theological  system 
 first,  and  interpreting  his  Bible  afterwards,  misses  the  Divine  revelation  of 
 liberty,  and  shares  the  blind  intolerance  of  the  theologians  and  Christians 
 of  his  day.  Prynnc  embodies  the  idea  and  feeling  of  his  time  when  he 
 teaches  that  parliament  is  the  creator  of  churches,  and  that  a  man  is  to  be 
 scorned  who  docs  not  "  make  it  a  point  of  conscience  and  of  Christianity 
 to  submit "  to  its  authority.'  Indeed,  excepting  the  Reformer  Castalio, 
 there  was  hardly  a  public  teacher  who  did  not  maintain  tiiat  orthodoxy  con- 
 ferred an  absolute  right  to  kill  the  body  of  the  unfortunate  wight  who  was 
 bold  or  foolish  enough  to  question  its  infallible  affirmations.  Therefore, 
 to  discover  in  such  darkness  the  sublime  doctrine  of  spiritual  liberty,  and 
 to  promulgate  it  from  the  "little  dingy  meeting-house  in  old  London,"  was 
 to  render  a  service  to  British  Christianity  and  to  the  progress  of  man,  not 
 less  opulent  in  noble  and  beneficent  issues  then  the  discovery  of  America 
 by  Columbus,  or  the  invention  of  printing  by  Gutenburg, — it  was  to  build 
 a  Pharos  for  all  distressed  ecclesiastical  and  theological  mariners  ;  it  was 
 to  give  an  impulse  to  the  total  development  of  men  by  turning  the  stream 
 of  fresh  and  living  thought  on  all  the  stock  ideas  of  the  world ;  it  was  to 
 l)romote  the  inwardness  of  culture  by  the  gift  of  a  fitting  atmosphere,  and 
 to  add  to  the  fulness  and  variety  and  energy  of  the  intellectual  and  ethical 
 life  of  mankind. 
 
 '  Gardiner,  History  cf  the  Cidit  Civil  War,  ii.  3. 
 
THE   BAPTISTS  AM)   BRITISH  CHRISTIANTTY.  571 
 
 But  Mazzini  reminds  us  that  not  only  does  every  great  revolution  de- 
 mand a  great  idea  to  be  its  centre  of  action,  to  furnish  it  both  lever  and 
 fulcrum  for  the  work  it  has  to  do  ;  l)Ut  "incarnation  in  action  "  is  also  and 
 o(iually  necessary/  or  else  the  incorruptible  Word  will  not  fructify  in  a  large 
 and  nourishing  harvest.  Such  incarnations  were  appearing  and  increasing 
 in  the  Baptists  and  Independents  of  the  time.  John  Smyth,  the  founder 
 of  the  "General  Baptists"  in  1608-11,  was  first  a  clergyman  of  the 
 Anglican  Church,  next  a  Separatist,  then  an  Independent,  and  lastly  an 
 Armiiiian  Baptist.  A  brave  soul,  of  noble  make  and  of  incorruptible  sin- 
 cerity, "  broad  as  the  charity  of  Almighty  God,  narrow  as  His  righteous- 
 ness," lie  was  ready  to  follow  truth  wherever  and  to  whatever  of  loss 
 and  suffering  she  might  lead  ;  and  for  him  a  joyous  acceptance  of  that 
 leadership  meant  life  as  an  exile  for  conscience  sake  in  Holland,  where, 
 breathing  an  atmosphere  inpregnated  with  the  theological  teaching  of 
 James  Armmius,  and  the  doctrine  of  toleration  taught  by  the  celebrated 
 Dutch  lawyer  and  statesman  Grotius,  he  learnt  in  pain  the  truth  that 
 Helwise  and  Busher  and  their  friends  were  to  teach.  Another  Episcopa- 
 lian, Roger  Williams,  infected  with  the  "dingy  meeting-house"  doctrines, 
 embarked  for  America  in  1630,  there  founded  the  first  Baptist  Church 
 in  1639,  and  was  the  first  legislator  who  provided  for  free  and 
 absolute  liberty  of  conscience.  Dr.  Cinrdiner,  speaking  of  another  hero 
 ^){  freedom,  John  Milton,  says  "  his  love  of  liberty  was  a  high  intellectual 
 l)ersuasion,  not  like  that  of  Roger  Williams,  which  sprang  from  Biblical 
 study  undertaken  under  stress  of  j^ersecution."  -  Hugh  Peters  suc- 
 ceeded Roger  Williams  as  pastor  of  the  church  in  Rhode  Island,  but 
 coming  back  to  this  country  in  the  time  of  civil  war  he  became  an  army 
 chaplain.  He  was  a  man  entirely  after  the  heart  of  that  great  Independent 
 and  stern  warrior  for  liberty,  Oliver  Cromwell.  He  loved  freedom  "from 
 the  kindliness  of  a  man  of  genial  temper  to  whom  a  minute  theological 
 study  was  repulsive,  and  who,  without  disguising  his  own  opinions,  pre- 
 ferred goodness  of  heart  to  rigidity  of  doctrine."  "Truly  it  wounds  my 
 soul,"  he  said,  "  wlien  I  think  Ireland  would  perish,  and  England  continue 
 her  misery  through  the  disagreement  of  ten  or  twenty  learned  men. 
 .  Could  we  but  conquer  each  other's  spirit,  we  should  soon  befool 
 the  devil  and  his  instruments ;  to  which  end  I  could  wish  we  that  are 
 niinisters  might  pray  together,  eat  and  drink  together,  because,  if  I  mistake 
 not,  estrangement  hath  boiled  us  up  to  jealousy  and  hatred."  '^  Those 
 were  heroes  who,  like  William  Sawtry,  Sir  James  Bainham,  Richard 
 Woodman,  Anne  Askew,  Joan  Boucher,  Benjamin  Hewling,  and  Elizabetli 
 Gaunt,  could  die  and  never  yield,  suffer  but  not  flinch  from  their  faithful- 
 ness ;  fight  for  ideas  and  impossibilities,  but  not  dull  the  keen  edge  of 
 their  enthusiasm,  or  dim  the  brightness  of  their  hope.  They  were  possessed 
 
 '  Essays  oh  Faith  and  the  Future,  p.  24. 
 ^  Dr.  Gardiner,  ii.,  p.  301. 
 =•  Ihid. 
 
5-::  REr.IGTOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  that  "intrinsic  conviction  "  described  by  John  Morley  as  "the  mainstay 
 of  human  advancement,"  and  hke  Bunyan  were  ready  to  reply  to  the  judge 
 who  threatened  hanging  if  they  continued  preaching,  "If  I  were  out  of 
 prison  to-day,  I  should  preach  to-morrow  by  the  help  of  God."  Conse- 
 quences !  they  cared  not  a  jot  for  those  that  reached  themselves  so  long  as 
 they  were  true  to  their  conscience  and  their  King.  Safety  I  they  scorned 
 the  mean  cowardice  that  put  that  before  duty  :^ 
 
 "  Bodies  fall  by  wild  sword-law  ; 
 But  who  would  force  the  soul,  tilts  with  a  straw 
 Against  a  champion  cased  in  adamant."  ' 
 
 "...   Men  they  were  who  could  not  bend  ; 
 Blest  pilgrims,  surely  as  they  took  for  guide 
 A  will  by  sovereign  conscience  sanctified  ; 
 Blest  while  their  spirits  from  the  ^voods  ascentl 
 Along  a  galaxy  that  knows  no  end, 
 But  in  His  glory  who  for  sinners  died."  ^ 
 
 V. 
 
 It  IS  impossible  for  me  to  trace  in  all  its  fruitful  issues  this  regal  idea. 
 "  Liberty  of  Conscience  "  is  not  a  phrase,  but  incarnate  in  men   it  is  a 
 force,  and  one  of  the  most  efficient  in  history.     It  springs  from  the  value 
 and  possibilities  of  the  individual  man,  and  cannot  cease  in  its  creative  and 
 reforming  work  till  it  permeates  all  life— individual,  political,  social,  and 
 international — and  fashions  it  in  obedience  to  the  great  principle  of  soul- 
 freedom.     The  men  who,  in   the  language  of  Froude,   "  assisted  in  their 
 deaths  to  pay  the  purchase-money  of  England's  freedom,"  did  not  foresee 
 the  range  and  elevation  of  their  acquisitions.      The   total  extinction  of 
 slavery  of  the  body  was  in  it ;  for  if  the  higher  faculties  of  conscience  and 
 will  are  free,  by  what  right  do  the  chains  still  hold  the  limbs?     Hence 
 tliose  who  had  entered  into  the  heritage  of  the  Quakers  and  Baptists  and 
 Independents  could  not  rank  behind  the  most   chivalrous  and  devoted 
 warriors  on  behalf  of  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  Jamaica,   and  all  the 
 colonies,  and  at  last  in  the  United  States.     Political  liberty  was  in  it,— 
 "  one  man  one  vote,"  aye,   and  "  one  woman  one  vote  ;  "  the   sovereignty 
 of  the  soul  means  personal  obligation  to  promote  the   welfare  of  the  body 
 politic  in  its  widest  interests  and  ramifications.     Social  emancipation  and 
 social  happiness  were  in  it.     Did  not   that  P.aptist,  Hugh  Peters,  foresee 
 our  day  when  he  said  he  had  ever  sought  after  three  things  :   "  First,  that 
 goodness  which  is  really  so,  and  such  religion  might  be  highly  advanced  ; 
 secondly,  that  good  learning  might  have   all    countenance ;  and  thirdly, 
 that  there  may  not  be  a  beggar  in  Israel — in   England  "  ?  Surely  that  last 
 note  in  the  army  chaplain's  legacy  gives  him  liigh  rank  amongst  the  earliest 
 British  Christian  socialists ! 
 
 (3)  Vou  will  not  imagine  that  I  forget  for  a  moment  that  Baptists  have 
 
 '  Ecclesiastical Soiiutts,  \Vordsworth,  I'nrt  III.,  No.  7,  p.  63. 
 *  //'/(/.,  No.  13,  p.  67. 
 
THE  BAPTISTS  AND  BRITISH  CHRISTIANITY.  573 
 
 only  been  one  regiment  of  the  soldiers  fighting  for  these  victories.  I  merely 
 keep  to  my  text,  but  with  a  deep  sense  that  the  debt  to  our  predecessors 
 and  allies  is  immeasurably  great ;  and  specially  to  those  nearest  us — the 
 stalwart  and  aggressive  Independents  on  the  right  and  the  quietly  invin- 
 cible Quakers  on  the  left.  All  1  have  striven  to  show  is  that  the  place  of 
 Baptists  in  the  evolution  of  British  Christianity  is  : — 
 
 First,  that  of  fearless  warriors  in  the  struggle  for  reality  and  personal 
 responsibility  in  religion  ;  and  that  to  that  struggle  they  owe  their  partial 
 detachment  from  the  religious  organizations  in  the  midst  of  which  they 
 were  living. 
 
 Secondly,  that  of  leaders  in  the  conception  and  promulgation  of  the  glad 
 tidings  of  freedom  from  the  interference  and  control  of  state  and  ecclesi- 
 astical authorities. 
 
 Thirdly,  that  of  fellow-workers  for  the  emancipation  of  the  slave,  the 
 uplifting  of  the  lower  races,  and  the  improvement  of  the  social  condition 
 of  mankind.  I  have  said  nothing  of  the  contributions  made  to  British 
 Christianity  by  the  theologian  Andrew  Fuller,^  and  by  the  re-creation  of 
 foreign  missions  by  William  Carey  in  the  last  century ;  nor  yet  of  that 
 superlative  wealth  of  character  in  the  host  of  nameless  saints,  members  of 
 Baptist  churches,  and  heroic  toilers  for  the  redemption  of  men  and  the 
 destruction  of  all  evil. 
 
 "  The  healing  of  the  woild 
 Is  in  its  nameless  saints.     Each  separate  star 
 Seems  nothing,  but  a  myriad  scattered  stars 
 Breaii  up  the  night  and  make  it  beautiful." 
 
 (3)  Nor  have  I  said  anything  about  the  future.     I  know  little  about  it. 
 It  is  affirmed  that  all  ecclesiasticisms,  chemically  speaking,  are  in  a  state  of 
 decomposition,  and  I  cannot  deny  it.     F'ortunately,   "  the  loudest  beating 
 of  the  drum  will  not  check  the  rising  of  the  sun."  The  energy  of  the  Renais- 
 sance is  not  yet  spent.     The   Reformation  waits  still  for   its  completion. 
 The  simple  ideas  of  the  Christianity  of  Christ  are  full  of  revolutionary 
 power,   and  need  living  application  to   the  legislative,   commercial,   and 
 social  life  of  the  world.     In  that  work  Baptists  ought  to  have  a  large  share, 
 and  the  larger  because  our  task,  in  so  far  as  it  relates  to  the  exposition  of 
 New  Testament  baptism,  is  nearly  done.     Exegesis  is  wholly  with  us  in 
 teaching  that  baptism  is  not  more  and  not  less  than  an  outward  and  visible 
 sign  of  the  inward  and   spiritual  grace  of  loyalty  to  the  Lord  Jesus,   a 
 loyalty  of  which  the  recipient  of  baptism  himself  is  really  and  dimly  con- 
 scious.    Priestisrn,  apparently  growing  and  nourished  by  the  materialistic 
 and  jesthetic  fashions  of  the  hour,  has  lost  for  ever  its  basis  on  the  Scrip- 
 tures and  the  traditions  of  the  Early  Church.     The  return  to  the  Christ  of 
 the  Testament  is  delivering  the  Churches  from  the  blinding  doctrine   of 
 the  magical  efficacy  of  sacraments,  and  sapping  the  inward  forces  of  sacer- 
 
 *  Contemporary  Review,  vol.  liii.,  p.  510. 
 
574  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 dotalism.     Baptists  to-day  are  as  loyal  as  ever  to  the  supremacy  of  tiie 
 
 spirit  and  to  freedom  of  conscience ;  as  emphatic  as  of  old  in  proclaiming 
 
 personal  responsibility  ;  more  resolute  in  their  repudiation   of  ritualism, 
 
 word   and    thing;    more  emphatic    in  their  recognition   of  spiritual  and 
 
 ethical  affinities  as  the  basis  of  Church  fellowship  ;  more  eager  than  ever 
 
 to  have  their  windows  open  to  all  the  daylight,  to  secure  perfect  religious 
 
 equality,  and  to  promote  the  true  brotherhood  and  social  well-being  of 
 
 men : — 
 
 "  Spirit  of  Fieedoni,  on. 
 And  pause  not  in  tliy  flight. 
 Till  every  clime  be  won 
 To  worship  in  thy  light  I  " 
 
THE   QUAKER    REFORMATION. 
 
 Bv  Wii.i.iA.M  Pollard. 
 
 The  Founders  of  the  Society  of  Frientls,  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
 were  accustomed  to  say  that  the  aim  of  the  Reformation  movement  in 
 which  they  were  engaged  was  the  Revival  of  Primitive  Christianity.  By 
 this  tliey  did  not  mean  a  mere  imitation  of  the  practices  and  arrangements 
 of  the  Early  Christians,  but  a  revival  of  that  spirit  of  simple  genuine  un- 
 clerical  religion  that  was  so  characteristic  of  the  first  century.  They  felt 
 that  the  Christian  Church  had  grievously  lapsed  from  the  pure  and  primi- 
 tive faith.  The  great  Central  Truth  of  Christianity — the  Real  Presence 
 of  the  Spirit  of  C^hrist  in  the  hearts  of  His  followers — had  come  to  be 
 almost  ignored.  The  free  spiritual  Republic  that  Christ  had  instituted 
 had  been  largely  sui)planted  by  the  despotism  and  tyranny  of  a  human 
 priesthood.  Externals  had  taken  the  place  of  spirituals.  Forms  had 
 replaced  realities.  Observances  had  been  substituted  for  duties.  Elabo- 
 rate metaphysical  creeds  had  been  gradually  constructed  and  made  the 
 test  of  orthodoxy,  because  it  was  more  in  accord  with  priestly  aim  and 
 worldly  nature  to  profess  faith  in  theological  doctrines  and  outward  cere- 
 monies, than  to  seek  after  and  obey  the  Spirit  of  Christ.  Even  the  great 
 upheaval  of  the  Reformation  in  the  sixteenth  century  had,  as  they  believed, 
 by  no  means  removed  these  evil  growths.  Startling  and  wide-reaching  as 
 the  Reforming  movement  had  been,  both  in  Germany  and  England,  it 
 was  of  necessity  very  imperfect.  Even  the  Great  Leaders  of  that  move- 
 ment were  far  from  seeing  all  the  beautiful  simplicity  and  breadth  of 
 spiritual  Truth,  as  it  had  been  recognised  in  Primitive  days.  The  times 
 were  ripe  for  another  advance  toward  the  simple  practical  Religion  of 
 Christ,  and  George  Fox  was  manifestly  called  by  God  to  lead  in  the 
 work. 
 
 Fox  has  been  fittingly  called  "  the  last  of  the  Reformers."  His  aim 
 was  to  complete  what  the  earlier  Reformers  began  :  what  the  Puritans  had 
 in  some  respects  carried  forward,  but  which  still  remained  unfinished  ; — 
 the  Restoration  of  Primitive  Christianity. 
 
 George  Fox  was  born  in  1624;  so  his  youth  was  passed  at  a  most 
 eventful  time  in  English  History,  when  it  seemed  doubtful  whether  the 
 Government  would  go  on — as  it  had  done  for  ages — gradually  developing 
 into  a  limited  and  constitutional  monarchy,  or  would  sink  into  a  Des- 
 potism. 
 
 In  his  early  boyhood  there  was  for  years  no  Parliament ;  there  was  no 
 free  speech.     Heretics  were  remorselessly  hunted  in  almost  every  parish 
 
 575 
 
576  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 in  the  kingdom.  Those  were  times  to  set  men  thinking  ;  and  no  doubt 
 they  helped  in  no  small  degi'^e  to  ripen  and  develop  the  character  of 
 young  George  Fox.  ^Ve  will  glance  briefly  at  his  after  life  and  teaching, 
 that  we  may  sketch  in  outline  his  view  of  what  Primitive  Christianity 
 required. 
 
 Fox  was  a  man  of  wonderful  natural  endowments  ;  and  though  with  no 
 more  scholastic  instruction  than  the  middle  classes  of  his  day  enjoyed, 
 yet  he  had  a  mind  of  no  ordinary  powers,  cultivated  too  in  a  particular 
 direction  in  a  very  remarkable  manner.  The  knowledge  of  God,  not  as 
 a  mere  intellectual  speculation,  but  as  a  true  solvent  of  that  mystery, 
 human  life — the  true  Restorative  that  would  harmonize  and  guide  and 
 give  spiritual  power — was  the  great  object  of  his  longing  search  from 
 vouth  to  manhood ;  and  in  this  search  his  almost  constant  companion 
 was  the  Bible. 
 
 But  though  the  volume  of  inspiration  was  most  precious  to  him,  he 
 could  not  be  satisfied,  or  rest  with  it  alone.  He  loved  it,  because  it 
 revealed  the  Divine  Helper, — the  Christ  of  God  ;— to  whom  he  longed 
 most  intensely  to  come,  that  he  might  have  spiritual  Life,  and  might 
 know  both  Truth  and  Duty.  For  this  end  he  agonized  for  months  in 
 solitude, — he  read, — he  prayed, — he  made  earnest  inquiries  of  men  who 
 who  were  thought  to  have  Christian  experience :  but  still  no  light  came. 
 As  Spurgeon  says,  "  Fox  was  driven  at  last  into  the  dreadful  wilderness 
 of  self-despair,  and  made  to  see  the  dark  chambers  of  imagery  of  his 
 ■own  natural  heart."  And  then,  in  God's  own  time,  the  Revelation  came. 
 Fox's  own  record  of  this  momentous  crisis  in  his  life  is  deeply  touching 
 and  instructive.  He  says, — "  When  all  my  hopes  in  men  were  gone, 
 so  that  I  had  nothing  outwardly  to  help  me,  nor  could  I  tell  what  to  do, 
 then,  oh  !  then,  I  heard  a  voice  which  said,  '  There  is  one,  even  Christ 
 Jesus,  that  can  speak  to  thy  condition  ; '  and  v.'hen  I  heard  it,  my  heart 
 did  leap  for  joy.  Then  the  Lord  let  me  see  why  there  was  none  else 
 that  could  speak  to  my  condition,  viz.,  that  I  might  give  Him  all  the 
 glory ;  that  Christ  might  have  the  pre-eminence,  who  enlightens  and  gives 
 Grace  and  Faith  and  Power." 
 
 The  Divine  Comforter  who  thus  revealed  Himself  spoke  to  a  willi^ig 
 ^nd  longing  heart ;  and  from  that  time  forth — though  his  discipline  ^vas 
 by  no  means  over,  for  he  felt  himself  a  disciple, — a  learner,  to  the  end  of 
 his  days, — George  J'ox  grew  to  have  an  apostolic  faith  in  the  real  Tre- 
 sence  of  Christ. 
 
 This  young  man  of  nineteen  became  shortly  so  filled  with  his  new  life, 
 that  he  says  he  could  have  wept  day  and  night  with  tears  of  joy; — and 
 he  was  soon  called  to  proclaim  his  great  discovery  to  others.  Thus,  with 
 the  heavenly  anointing  manifestly  resting  upon  him,  he  entered  upon  his 
 mission  as  a  religious  Reformer; — commissioned  to  bring  back  to  the 
 (;;hurch  a  long-lost  and  forgotten  Truth.  "  I  was  commanded,"  he  says, 
 ^'  to  turn  people  to  that  inward  Light,  Spirit  and  Grace,  by  which  all  might 
 
THE   QUAKER  REFORMAT/ON.  577 
 
 know  their  salvation,  and  their  way  to  God ;  even  that  Divine  Spirit  which 
 would  lead  them  into  all  truth. " 
 
 With  persuasive  eloquence  Fox  began  now  to  call  men  from  "  forms  and 
 shadows,"  to  the  life,  light,  and  power  of  Christ  in  their  own  hearts. 
 Numerous  converts  speedily  united  with  him  in  the  great  Reforming  work, 
 many  of  them  as  devoted  as  Fox  :  and  it  is  important  to  note  that  their 
 primary  ground  of  union — (as  officially  stated  by  the  London  Yearly 
 Meeting) — -was,  "  agreement  of  sentiment  in  regard  to  Christ's  inward 
 teaching." 
 
 George  Fox  formulates  still  more  definitely  the  nature  of  His  mission 
 in  the  following  words  : — "  By  the  power  and  Spirit  of  God,  I  was  to  bring 
 people  off  from  all  their  own  ways,  to  Christ  the  new  and  Living  Way  : 
 and  from  the  churches  which  had  been  gathered  in  the  wisdom  of  man, 
 to  the  Church  of  God  of  which  Christ  is  the  Head.  And  off  from  the 
 world's  teachers  made  by  men,  to  learn  of  Christ,  of  whom  the  Father 
 said,  '  T/iis  is  My  beloved  Son.  Hear  Hi  in.'  And  off  from  the  world's 
 worships,  to  know  the  Spirit  of  truth  in  the  heart,  and  to  be  led  thereby. 
 And  I  was  to  bring  people  off  from  Jewish  ceremonies,  and  from  men's 
 inventions,  and  worldly  doctrines  ;  and  from  their  rudiments  and  creeds, — 
 with  their  schools  and  colleges  for  making  men  ministers  of  Christ.  And 
 from  all  their  images,  and  crosses,  and  sprinkling  of  infants ;  and  all  their 
 vain  traditions,  which  they  had  gotten  up  since  the  Apostles'  days,  which 
 the  Lord's  power  was  against.  And  against  all  who  preached,  and  not 
 freely,  as  being  such  as  had  not  received  freely." 
 
 It  would,  however,  be  a  mistake  to  suppose,  from  this  statement,  that 
 the  Quaker  Reformation  was  a  mere  protesting  movement,  or  a  system  of 
 negatives.  On  the  contrary,  it  began,  as  already  pointed  out,  with  re- 
 viving a  great  fundamental  but  forgotten  Truth, — that  of  the  Real  Pre- 
 sence of  Christ  by  His  Spirit.  This  the  Friends  have  happily  kept  in  the 
 forefront  of  those  grand  "  Advices,"  which  are  periodically  read  in  their 
 meetings.  It  is  the  same  truth  as  well  expressed  by  William  Penn,  when 
 he  said  :  "  T/ie  Light  of  Christ  within  us,  as  God's  gift  for  man' s  salvation, 
 is  the  great  Fundamental  of  our  Religion." 
 
 We  are  therefore  justified  in  saying  that  George  Fox's  proclamation  of 
 the  Primitive  Faith  was  based  on  the  assertion  of  a  supreme  and  positive 
 truth,  and  not  on  mere  negations. 
 
 He  found  the  religious  world  divided  between  High  Church  professors, 
 who  based  their  faith  largely  on  Church  traditions,  and  the  Puritan  and 
 "  Evangelical "  parties,  who  believed  in  the  exclusive  authority  of  Scrip- 
 ture. All  these  were  making  the  Death  of  Christ  the  central  truth  of 
 Christianity,  to  the  displacement  of  a  broader  and  more  scriptural  view. 
 They  were,  in  fact,  almost  entirely  ignoring  a  truth  which  Fox  felt  to  be 
 the  main  factor  in  the  relations  of  man  to  God.  Fox  had  discovered — 
 had  had  revealed  to  him — that  it  is  the  indwelling  Spirit,  the  Living 
 Christ,  and  not  the  Church,  nor  the  Bible  only  (or  even  primarily),  which  is 
 
 VOL.  I. pt.   2.  Q  Q 
 
578  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  real  Restorer  and  Guide  of  Life.  He  had  reached  out  to  a  Living  Person 
 who  is  Divine,  and  he  could  rest  no  longer  on  a  Book  or  a  Creed. 
 
 Stephen  Crisp — another  of  the  founders  of  the  Society — refers  to  the 
 same  discovery  when  he  says,  "  There  are  two  kinds  of  Faith.  The 
 one  says,  '  I  believe,  because  good  men  have  told  me,  and  because  I  find 
 it  in  my  Catechism  and  Prayer-Book.'  The  other  says,  '  I  believe,  because 
 God  hath  visited  me  by  His  Love,  and  given  me  a  personal  assurance  that 
 He  is  my  Deliverer.' " 
 
 Charles  Kingsley  proclaims  the  antiquity  of  this  great  Quaker  principle 
 in  the  following  words.  He  says  :  "  The  doctrine  of  Christ  in  every 
 man,  as  the  indwelling  Word  of  God — the  Light  who  lights  every  one 
 who  comes  into  the  world — is  no  peculiar  tenet  of  the  Quakers ; — but  one 
 which  runs  through  the  whole  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament ;  and  with- 
 out which  they  would  both  be  unintelligible:  just  as  the  same  doctrine 
 runs  through  the  whole  history  of  the  Early  Church  for  the  first  two 
 centuries,  and  is  the  only  explanation  of  tliem." 
 
 The  historian  Bancroft  says:  "The  mind  of  (ieorge  1^'ox  arrived  at 
 the  conclusion  that  Truth  is  to  be  found  by  listening  to  the  Voice  of  God 
 in  the  soul.  This  principle  contained  a  moral  revolution.  It  established 
 absolute  freedom  of  mind  (under  the  rule  of  Christ) — treading  idolatry 
 and  superstition  under  foot,  and  entering  the  strongest  protest  against 
 every  form  of  hierarchy."  It  is  in  this  sense  that  we  may  say  in  the  words 
 of  the  poet — of  that  bright  dawn  of  spiritual  truth  and  liberty  of  which  we 
 are  speaking — that 
 
 "  Freedom  reared  in  that  august  sunrise 
 Her  beautiful  bold  brow  : 
 Wlicn  Kites  and  Forms  before  her  burning  eyes 
 Melted  like  snow." 
 
 But  when  we  speak  of  this  great  doctrine  of  Primitive  Christianity  antl 
 of  Quakerism  as  fundamental  truth,  it  is  not  to  be  understood  that  it  is 
 the  only  truth  of  importance.  On  examination  it  will  be  found — when 
 held  in  its  true  sense — really  to  include  or  to  lead  on  to  all  the  great 
 Facts  referred  to  in  the  Apostles'  Creed  :  for,  as  promised  by  Christ,  it 
 leads  into  all  truth.  Our  knowledge  of  God  is  progressive.  Truth  comes 
 to  us  by  degrees  :  largely  according  to  faith  and  faithfulness.  'I'his  was 
 what  George  Fox  meant,  when  he  said  he  was  called  "to  bring  people 
 to  Christ,  and  to  leave  them  there."  He  knew  that  when  a  man  had 
 come  in  faith  to  this  living  Christ,  he  would  seek  more  and  more  to  learn 
 of  Christ,  and  to  obey  Christ,  and  to  promote  the  cause  of  Christ ;  that 
 he  would  honour  and  love  the  iJible,  which  testified  of  Christ ;  that  he 
 would  rejoice  exceedingly  and  increasingly  in  the  assurance  he  had, 
 througli  God's  manifestation  and  sacrifice  in  Christ ;  that  he  would  feel 
 the  need  and  privilege  of  Prayer  and  of  waiting  on  this  gracious  Lord  for 
 fuller  enlightenment  in  the  truth,  and  for  guidance  and  help  in  all  the 
 concerns  of  life. 
 
THE   QUAKER  REFORMATION,  579 
 
 It  was  George  Fox's  faith  in  this  principle  of  Christian  growth  and 
 development,  that  explains  the  well-known  story  about  William  Penn  and 
 his  sword.  The  incident  may  be  briefly  recalled  to  memory,  somewhat 
 thus  :  William  Penn,  in  the  early  days  of  his  changed  life,  though  full 
 of  zeal  for  the  Gospel  as  he  then  knew  it,  had  not  yet  seen  all  the  bearings 
 of  the  great  Truth  which  he  had  embraced.  He  had  thrown  himself  heart 
 and  soul  into  the  work  of  the  Lord.  He  was  preaching  and  writing  con- 
 tinually, and  was  full  of  Christian  activity.  Ikit  he  still  wore  his  sword, 
 after  the  fashion  of  the  gentlemen  of  those  times ;  and  possibly  thought 
 little  about  it.  The  appearance  of  the  young  Christian  soldier  girt  with 
 a  carnal  weapon  scandalized  some  of  his  elder  Friends,  who  remon- 
 strated witli  liim  about  it.  Penn,  in  his  perplexity,  sought  counsel  from 
 his  friend  and  leader,  George  Fox;  and  told  him  he  had  not  seen  the 
 inconsistency  of  the  thing,  and  did  not  wish  to  take  any  step  out  of  mere 
 imitation.  Fox's  advice  was  simple  and  courageous.  He  said  :  "  As 
 regards  thy  sword,  wear  it  as  long  as  thou  feels  easy  with  it."  He  had 
 faitli  in  the  meekness  and  gentleness  of  Christ,  and  in  the  power  of  the 
 Master  to  imbue  His  young  disciple  with  His  own  .Spirit;  and  he  knew 
 it  was  wise  to  leave  growth  and  development  in  the  hands  of  Him  who  is 
 patient  and  all-wise, — who  alone  sees  the  capabilities  of  His  servants,  and 
 the  right  time  for  leading  them  forward. 
 
 And  so  we  fmd  this  great  Fundamental  Truth  of  a  living  and  present 
 Saviour  underlying  all  that  the  early  Friends  taught.  It  was  this  that  gave 
 the  unifiue  character  to  their  meetings  for  worship.  It  shaped  and 
 guided  their  ministry.  It  was  at  the  root  of  all  their  testimonies,  and 
 their  service  for  the  Truth.  It  was  to  them  the  Power  and  Reality  of  the 
 Gospel.  It  was  "  God's  gift  for  man's  salvation."  And  the  reason  is  not 
 far  to  seek.  It  meant  to  them  the  one  Foundation,  on  which  prophets 
 anil  apostles  and  Primitive  Christians  had  h\\\\\.— -Jesus  Christ. 
 
 In  view  of  this  mighty  fact,  they  might  well  ask,  "  What  need  is  there 
 of  a  human  priest,  or  a  professional  pastor,  at  the  head  of  the  congre- 
 gation, w'hen  the  Great  High  Priest — the  Minister  of  ministers — is  Him- 
 self really  present?  What  need  is  tliere  of  a  symbolical  washing  by 
 outward  water,  when  the  real  cleansing  is  applied  direct  to  the  soul  by 
 the  Divine  Baptizer  Himself?  What  need  is  there  of  a  formal  ceremonial 
 with  outward  bread  and  wine,  when  the  soul  is  invited  to  the  real  table  of 
 the  Lord,  to  partake  of  the  veritable  Bread  of  Life  ?  " 
 
 It  was  well  said  of  George  Fox,  that  he  did  for  Religion  what  Lord 
 Bacon  had  done  for  philosophy, — he  rescued  it  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
 Schoolmen  (in  this  case  the  theologians),  and  showed  it  to  be  practical ! 
 Those  who  have  looked  much  into  works  of  Systematic  Theology — Cal- 
 vinistic  or  other — must  have  been  struck  by  the  contrast  there  presented, 
 v.-ith  the  practical  and  unsophiscated  character  of  the  old  Quaker  teaching. 
 It  may  be  said  of  the  early  Friends — as  Erasmus  said  of  the  Primitive 
 Christians — that  they  were  afraid  to  pronounce  anything  about  God  but 
 
5So  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 what  was  plainly  revealed  in  Scripture.  The  Bible  was  their  creed,  inter- 
 preted by  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  and  they  owned  no  other. 
 
 But  the  teaching  of  Fox  and  his  coadjutors  was  not  only  practical.  It 
 was  pre-eminently  simple  ;  and  it  was  broad  ;  and  this  simplicity  and 
 breadth  reached  to  the  very  beginnings  of  Religion.  The  Protestant 
 Theology  of  the  si.xteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries — in  which  many  ot 
 the  early  Friends  had  been  trained — had  been  accustomed  to  say,  "When 
 you  are  converted,  you  will  find  God  propitiated,  and  He  will  accept  you 
 for  Christ's  sake."  But  the  Quaker  theology  took  a  totally  different  stand. 
 It  said,  "  God  is  on  your  side  before  you  start  :  and  He  is, — by  per- 
 suasion,— by  the  work  of  His  Spirit, — seeking  to  start  you  Himself;  and 
 Christ  is  the  inatiifcstatiou  of  His  love,  mid  not  the  cause  of  ifi" 
 
 A  recent  writer,  in  treating  of  the  Quaker  Reformation,  has  formulated 
 the  principles  therein  proclaimed,  and  has  called  them  the  "  Ten  Talents 
 of  Quakerism."     They  may  be  summarized  somewhat  thus  : — 
 
 1.  God's  Spiritual  light  that  lighteth  every  man. 
 
 2.  The  indwelling  of  the  Spirit  with  the  disciple. 
 
 3.  The  Headship  of  Christ  in  His  Church. 
 
 4.  The  priesthood  of  all  believers. 
 
 5.  The  freedom  of  the  Gospel  Ministry. 
 
 6.  The  spiritual  equality  of  the  Sexes. 
 
 7.  Spiritual  I^aptism,  and  Spiritual  Communion. 
 
 8.  The  unlawfulness  of  war  to  the  Christian. 
 
 9.  The  unlawfulness  of  oaths. 
 
 10.  The  duty  of  brotherly  love,  and  of  simplicity  of  life. 
 
 The  list  even  in  its  bareness  indicates  the  striking  resemblance  that 
 existed  between  the  Primitive  Church  and  that  of  the  early  Friends,  as 
 to  their  creed,  the  character  of  their  religious  meetings,  the  basis  of 
 their  ministry,  and  their  views  on  Church  Government.  They  both 
 accepted  in  all  its  fulness  the  truth  of  the  Real  Presence  and  Headshii) 
 of  Christ :  they  were  both  free  from  the  burden  of  Ritualism  and  Cere- 
 monialism, and  from  the  bondage  and  hindrance,  in  any  form,  of  an  order 
 of  clergy.  They  were  both  remarkable  for  their  brotherly  love,  and  for 
 their  care  of  the  poor,  the  suffering,  and  the  unfortunate. 
 
 The  religious  meetings  in  Apostolic  times,  though  held  on  the  same 
 spiritual  and  free  basis,  took  doubtless  a  somewhat  different  shape  from 
 the  Quaker  meetings — for  reasons  that  are  obvious.  They  were  composed 
 mainly  of  jjcople  just  gathered  out  of  heathenism,  who  had  had  practically 
 no  religious  training ;  and  the  meetings  had,  therefore,  of  necessity,  to 
 be  largely  devoted  to  the  work  of  "teaching."  That  is,  they  sought  in 
 various  ways,  under  the  i)ower  of  the  Spirit,  to  remind  and  inform  one 
 another  of  the  great  facts  of  Religion,  and  of  God's  dealings  and  revela- 
 tions to  men  in  the  past  :  and  this  teaching-meeting  was  generally  followed 
 by  a  social  gathering  or  "  Love  Feast,"  for  spiritual  edification  and 
 devotion. 
 
THE   QUAKER  REFORMATION.  58 1 
 
 We  may  mention  another  point  of  comparison.  There  were  some  of 
 the  teachings  of  the  early  Friends,  which,  while  really  constituting  part  of 
 the  (Quaker  Reformation,  were  more  of  the  nature  of  testimonies,  specially 
 belonging  to  that  ])articular  age.  Such  were  doubtless  based  upon  true 
 principles  into  which  these  faithful  disciples  were  led  by  the  Spirit  of 
 Christ.  But  we  have  to  remember  that  the  application  of  principles  may 
 and  does  vary  under  the  same  Divine  guidance.  It  had  been  so  with  the 
 Primitive  Christians.  They  had  their  strong  testimony  to  bear  about 
 meats  offered  to  Idols ;  against  tlie  use  of  blood  ;  and  so  on.  But  these 
 expressions  of  a  true  principle  have  long  passed  away,  with  the  need  of 
 them.  Though  the  injunction  on  these  subjects  was  given  to  Gentile 
 Christians,  in  the  most  solemn  and  unqualified  terms  (Acts  xv.  28),  no 
 believer.  Gentile  or  otherwise,  feels  any  longer  l)ound  by  it. 
 
 So  with  the  early  Friends.  .Admitting  that  there  may  have  been  in 
 their  protests  against  certain  evils  and  extravagances  of  the  time  some 
 degree  of  crudeness  and  exaggeration — for  instance,  in  the  use  of  what 
 they  called  plain  and  truthful  language  ;  on  the  subject  of  dress,  and 
 personal  demeanour — and  in  respect  to  some  recreations ;  still  they 
 testified  in  their  seventeenth-century  style  to  some  important  truths  that 
 may  now  be  upheld  in  other  ways.  In  these  things  we  have  our  own 
 responsibility,  which  is  not  met  by  mere  imitation. 
 
 We  sometimes  hear  Quakerism  described  as  if  it  were  identical  with 
 what  is  known  as  "  Evangelicalism,"  plus  a  few  specialities  about  the 
 Ordinances,  War,  and  Oaths.  This  is  a  great  mistake.  We  may  appeal 
 both  to  the  early  Friends,  and  to  their  contemporaries  the  '•  Evangelicals  " 
 of  the  seventeenth  century ;  and  we  shall  find  the  answer  from  each  clear 
 and  unmistakable.  Leaders  of  the  "  Evangelical "  sects  in  those  days — 
 such  as  Baxter  and  Bunyan — never  would  admit  that  the  fathers  ot 
 (Quakerism  were  in  harmony  with  themselves  as  regards  even  primary 
 Christian  doctrine.  They  stigmatized  them  as  one-sided^— zs,  tending  to 
 Socinianism, — as  undervaluing  the  Bible,  and  so  on, — charges  which  one 
 still  hears  at  times  applied  by  "Evangelicals"  to  old-fashioned  Quakerism: 
 though  more  unfounded  statements  as  regards  each  particular,  both  then 
 and  now,  could  hardly  be  made.  So  far  from  being  one-sided,  they  pro- 
 claimed afresh  the  central  truth  of  Christianity.  Their  testimony  to  Christ, 
 as  Almighty  and  Divine,  was  a  practical  testimony ; — and  as  such  it  was 
 more  definite  and  unequivocal  than  that  of  any  other  religious  community. 
 And  their  reverence  and  love  for  the  Bible  were  so  marked,  that  its  plain 
 teachings  were  accepted  by  them  at  great  cost  and  suffering,  on  points 
 respecting  which  other  churches  seem  still  *'  halting  as  between  two 
 opinions." 
 
 The  Friends  themselves — on  this  question  of  agreement  in  what  were 
 regarded  as  Fundamentals — were  equally  uncompromising.  'While  they 
 gladly  avowed  that  they  did  not  differ  materially  from  many  other  religious 
 communities,  in  what  William   Penn  called   "  the  common  doctrines  of 
 
582  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 Christianity,"  they  did  not  hesitate  to  assert  that  they  differed  ahiiost 
 radically  in  the  definition — the  understanding — and  even  in  the  place  of 
 some  of  these  teachings. 
 
 The  "  Evangelical  "  sects — as  we  have  already  pointed  out — declared, 
 and  still  declare,  their  central  truth  to  be  the  Death  of  Christ.  The  early 
 Friends,  going  wider  and  deeper,  proclaimed  the  great  central  and  founda- 
 tion truth  to  be  Christ  Himself; — the  Living  Saviour — the  same  yesterday, 
 to-day,  and  for  ever.  They  ignored  no  revealed  truth.  The  human  life 
 of  Christ — His  death — His  resurrection — His  ascension- — all  for  our  sakes 
 — they  thankfully  accepted  and  believed.  But  Christ  the  Living — the 
 Indivisible, — He  who  had  been  God  manifest  in  the  flesh,  and  now  is  God 
 manifest  in  the  spirit, — was  their  foundation  Rock.  And  on  that  Rock 
 they  built,  and  found  safety  and  rest. 
 
 One  characteristic  achievement  of  the  Quaker  movement  which  is  of 
 primary  importance  was  the  rousing  impulse  it  gave  to  individual  Con- 
 science. Christ — as  these  Reformers  preached  Him — was  not  only  present 
 in  the  Church  as  its  Head,  but  He  was  present  in  the  heart  of  each  dis- 
 ciple. Therefore  the  Conscience — that  wonderful  organ  or  indicator,  by 
 which  the  Divine  Presence  is  noted  and  its  purpose  revealed — was  not  to 
 be  a  mere  collective  Church  Instrument,  interpreted  and  controlled  by  the 
 priest  or  pastor,  or  even  by  the  congregation ;  but  a  personal  indicator, 
 under  Christ's  direction,  planted  in  the  secret  of  each  heart.  Under  this 
 Divine  Guidance,  people  were  to  think  for  themselves — seek  for  them- 
 selves— and  act  for  themselves.  And  yet  not  as  mere  detached  and 
 isolated  units.  The  one  Supreme  Guide  who  dwelt  in  each  soul,  and 
 understood  and  loved  each  soul,  became — as  He  was  trusted — the  true 
 bond  of  union  to  His  people.  This  practical  faith  in  Christ's  direct 
 revelation  of  Himself  to  each  believer — as  it  is  held  in  humility  and 
 charity — is  still  found — even  amidst  great  diversities  of  operations — to 
 give  true  unity  of  purpose  and  an  aggregate  of  wisdom ;  and  so  enables  the 
 Brotherhood  to  work  harmoniously  together  for  mutual  help,  and  for  the 
 promotion  of  the  truth.  Here  wc  have  the  true  constitution  of  that  union 
 of  many  diverse  spiritual  natures,  under  the  Headship  and  control  of  one 
 Lord,  which  we  recognise  as  a  Divine  institution,  and  which  we  call  the 
 Church. 
 
 A  Church  that  felt  itself  so  constituted  would  naturally  be  continually 
 saying  to  its  members — in  other  words  the  members  would  be  continually 
 saying  to  one  another — "  Christ,  is  your  Master  ;  take  heed  to  Him  ; 
 take  heed  to  His  invisible  and  unsearchable  influence, — the  convictions  of 
 the  Spirit, — the  guidance  and  teaching  of  the  Spirit, — the  restraints  of  the 
 Spirit."  And  the  early  (^)uaker  Church  <//fl' constantly  reiterate  this  teach- 
 ing. George  Lox's  epistles,  and  the  addresses  of  his  compatriots,  are  full 
 of  such  injunctions.  The  supremacy  of  Conscience,  controlled  and  en- 
 lightened by  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  was  in  fact  their  prominent  theme. 
 
 Personal  Conscience  was  the  rudder  which,  in  the  Divine  hand,  steered 
 
THE   QUAKER  REFORMATIOX.  583 
 
 their  bark  through  the  stormy  sea  which  these  brave  men  had  to  traverse. 
 In  obedience  to  it  they  went  forth  as  Preachers  ;  they  held  meetings  ; 
 they  organized  communities  for  promoting  God's  truth  ;  they  went  to 
 prison  ;  they  laid  down  their  lives;  proving  faithful  to  this  Light  of  Christ 
 in  the  Lamp  of  Conscience,  even  unto  Death. 
 
 But  further  than  that,  they  did  their  duty,  and  were  seen  to  do  their 
 duty,  in  the  petty  details  of  every-day  life.  Perhaps  this  is  as  great  a  test 
 of  a  tender  and  active  conscience  as  can  be  found.  George  Fox  tells  us, — 
 "  When  people  came  to  have  experience  of  Friends'  honesty  and  faithful- 
 ness,^that  they  kept  to  a  word  in  their  dealings,  and  would  not  cheat 
 them ;  but  that  if  they  sent  a  child  to  their  shops  for  anything,  they  were 
 as  well  used  as  if  they  had  come  themselves,— the  lives  of  Friends  did 
 preach,  and  reached  the  untiicss  of  God  in  the  people.  Then  the  inquiry 
 was,  'Where  is  there  a  draper,  or  shopkeeper,  or  tailor,  or  shoemaker,  or 
 any  other  tradesman,  that  is  a  Quaker? '" 
 
 Another  quiet,  I)ut  invaluable  characteristic,  springing  from  the  same 
 root,  and  which  lias  already  borne  good  fruit, — but  which  needs  to  be 
 much  more  cultivated  in  the  world  of  politics  and  daily  life, — is  the 
 absence,  or  at  least  the  diminished  power,  of  the  spirit  of  self-seeking  and 
 of  mere  personal  ambition.  Oliver  Cromwell  testified  to  it  as  something 
 unusual,  when  he  said  of  the  Friends,  "  Here  is  a  people  whom  I  cannot 
 win  with  gifts,  honours,  office,  or  place."  John  Pright  once  referred  to 
 the  same  characteristics  when  he  said,  "  I  am  a  member  of  a  small  but 
 somewhat  remarkable  sect, — a  religious  body  which  had  a  remarkable 
 origin,  and  in  its  early  days  at  least  a  somewhat  remarkable  history.  It  is, 
 of  all  the  religious  sects,  the  one  that  has  most  taught  the  equality  and 
 equal  rights  of  man.  And  I  venture  to  say  it  is  remarkable  for  another 
 thing,— that,  probably  more  than  any  other  body,  within  its  borders  and 
 in  its  service,  personal  ambition  is  practically  unknown."  John  Bright 
 adds,  "  I  think  much  of  my  oi)inions,  and  much  of  my  course,  have  been 
 determined  or  at  least  greatly  influenced  by  the  training  I  received  in  that 
 body.' 
 
 This  active  personal  Conscience,  which  leads  to  a  true  self-reliance 
 based  on  the  assurance  of  Christ's  presence  and  help,  was  the  root  of  that 
 sturdy  independence  of  character  which  was  once  (and  which  is  still,  to 
 some  extent,  let  us  hope)  a  distinguishing  feature  of  Quaker  people.  It 
 has  been  through  this  true  staying  power  so  much  needed  in  the  battle  of 
 life,  that  the  individual  conscience  has  come  to  tell  upon  the  whole  com- 
 munity. Probably  when  George  Fox  spoke  of  one  true  Quaker  shaking 
 the  country  for  ten  miles  round,  he  had  in  view  not  merely  or  mainly 
 preaching,  or  other  public  efforts  ;  but  rather  this  integrity  and  uprightness 
 - — this  unswerving  fidelity  to  the  truth  however  manifest  in  the  soul, — -this 
 conspicuous  loyalty  to  (Christ,  which  brought  about  the  whole  movement. 
 We  read  that  some  Scotch  earl,  who  had  been  dealing  with  certain  of  these 
 uncompromising   Friends,   said, — "The    Quakers'  loyalty   is   a   qualified 
 
584  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 loyalty  :  //  smells  of  Rebellion:'  To  which  one  of  them  calmly  replied, 
 "  We  understand  not  loyalty  that  is  not  qualified :  qualified  that  is,  with 
 the  fear  of  God,  rather  than  of  man." 
 
 And  so  this  individuality— this  unqualified  loyalty  to  Christ,— told  upon 
 the  churches  and  the  nation  in  many  important  ways.  For  the  churches 
 the  Quaker  movement  did  much,  by  its  broad  teaching,  to  dissipate  or  at 
 least  to  moderate  the  narrow  Calvinism  that  prevailed  in  most  of  the 
 Protestant  communities.  For  the  nation  it  won  for  us  all  Liberty  of 
 Conscience.  "  The  struggle  to  secure  this  was  carried  on  through  forty 
 years  of  bitter  suffering,  marked  with  many  cruel  martyrdoms,  and  the 
 early  Friends  ultimately  triumphed  by  the  might  of  passive  resistance 
 wearying  out  persecution  ;  and  so  they  purchased  for  England  the  price- 
 less jewel  of  religious  liberty." 
 
 To  the  brave  and  good  soldiers  who  fought  in  this  long  and  arduous 
 struggle,  we  may  apply  the  words  of  an  eminent  writer,  and  say  :  "  They 
 were  true  patriots.  They  developed  another  kind  of  deliverance  for  their 
 country,  founded  on  the  authority  of  Truth.  They  stood  up  against 
 Tyrant  and  Priest.  They  witnessed  against  false  social  maxims,  against 
 superstitions,  against  all  that  was  enslaving  the  soul.  They  proclaimed  a 
 living  God  ;  and  they  sought  in  all  things  to  be  faithful  to  their  King." 
 
585 
 
 METHODISM. 
 
 Bv  Mrs,  Sheldon  Amos. 
 
 VViinN  I  was  invited  to  lecture  here,  I  had  never  dehvered  a  lecture  any 
 where,  and  looking  at  the  list  of  subjects  undertaken  by  distinguished 
 persons  for  this  Course,  I  was  fainthearted,  and  though  I  did  not  like 
 exactly  to  refuse  a  kind  offer,  I  saw  no  excuse  for  my  speaking  on  any 
 great  World-Religion.  Of  ancient  Egypt  alone  I  knew  enough  to  know 
 that  I  know  very  little.  So  I  looked  further,  and  seeing  one  lecture  on 
 "  The  Mass,"  I  perceived  that  a  portion  of  Christianity  might  be  admis- 
 sible, and  then  it  was  clear  that  I  had  hereditary  right  to  speak  on  Metho- 
 dism ;  for  after  the  name  of  John  Wesley  himself  there  occurs  no  name  of 
 a  Methodist  organizer  and  statesman  so  prominent  as  that  of  my  grand- 
 father, Dr.  Bunting.  And  yet,  though  brought  up  in  the  innermost  centre 
 of  English  Methodism,  it  were  with  diffidence  I  should  approach  the  effort 
 to  speak  of  the  great  American,  Australian,  and  other  branches  of  the 
 Metliodist  Connexion,  had  I  not,  in  the  course  of  a  life  spent  among 
 singularly  varied  sets  of  human  beings,  found  constantly  a  quite  curious 
 amount  of  ignorance  about  the  meaning,  history,  condition,  and  aims  of 
 Methodism.  If  I  can  induce  some  of  you  to  inform  yourselves  about 
 what  I  take  to  be  at  once  the  most  conservative,  the  most  radical,  the 
 most  practical,  and  the  most  intensely  spiritual  of  Churches,  the  one  which 
 has  most  freiiuently  been  rent  by  the  fierce  determination  of  the  violent 
 who  take  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  by  storm,  to  press  on  always  to  the 
 next  step  in  spiritualized  and  spiritualizing  popular  religion  and  Church 
 government,  I  shall  not  regret  having  come  to  try  to  speak  to  you  to-day. 
 
 I  say  that  Methodism  is  conservative.  John  Wesley  inherited  both  the 
 I'uritan  and  the  Anglican  traditions  ;  and  so  the  spirit  of  the  Reformation, 
 and  so  his  ideal,  may  be  traced  through  many  reformations  back  to  primi- 
 tive ideals.  And  John  Wesley's  four  volumes  of  Sermons  and  his  Notes 
 on  the  New  Testament  are  still  tlie  comprehensive,  tolerant,  broad,  while 
 minute  and  exact,  body  of  theological  teaching  on  which  Methodist  minis- 
 ters are  trained,  and  to  which  they  declare  their  agreement  before  they  are 
 ordained  to  the  ministry.  Such  a  mass  of  theological  teaching  cannot  be 
 rigid  as  a  short  creed.  For  while  these  views  exclude  volumes  wider  and 
 more  elastic,  there  has  been  no  proposal  to  dethrone  them  as  ^Methodist 
 standards.  And  in  these  are  included  sermons  and  notes  which  have 
 caused  High  Churchmen  and  Low,  Sacramentarians  and  Salvationists, 
 alike  to  claim  John  Wesley  as  of  their  own  particular  way  of  thinking.  I 
 will  not  say  that  they  are  as  wide  as  Christianity  itself,  but  they  are  per- 
 haps more  Catholic  than  the  tests  of  any  other  Church. 
 
586  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 And  Methodism  is  radical.  No  difilculty  ever  arose  in  Mr.  Wesley's 
 time,  nor  since,  to  prevent  the  most  daintily  trained  clergyman,  or  son  of 
 a  wealthy  house,  from  finding  himself  either  under  the  direction,  or  on 
 equal  brotherly  terms,  or  in  authority  over  some  earnest  stonemason,  or 
 workhouse  lad,  or  tailor,  whom  the  grace  of  God  had  endowed  with  a 
 spiritual  force  and  delicac}-  that  made  them  true  brothers  in  work  for  their 
 Master.  And  while  the  ministers  set  apart  to  give  their  whole  lives  to  the 
 preaching  of  the  (iospel  have  their  own  place  in  the  system  of  Methodism, 
 there  are  several  distinct  facts  which  prevent  the  spirit  of  sacerdotalism 
 from  getting  hold  on  Methodists.  It  is  true  that  none  but  ordained  minis- 
 ters have  ever  administered  the  Sacraments,  but  that  is  held  to  be  a  mere 
 matter  of  order  and  organization,  not  of  heaven-given  special  capacity  as 
 transmitters  of  a  grace  not  to  be  obtained  save  through  them.  It  could 
 not  be  otherwise ;  for,  while  Mr.  Wesley  himself  and  many  of  his  first  co- 
 adjutors were  ordained  clergymen  of  the  Church  of  England,  at  the  time 
 when  the  persecuting  clergy  of  the  Church  of  England  drove  the  Method- 
 ists from  the  Communion  Table,  and  even  refused  their  children  baptism 
 and  their  dead  burial,  many  of  the  ministers  who  met  in  solemn  Confer- 
 ence, and  after  years  of  anxious  consultation  and  of  strong  demand  from 
 the  people,  finally  decided  that  it  had  become  necessary  for  them  to  ad- 
 minister the  Sacraments  themselves  to  their  people,  had  never  been  for- 
 mally ordained  by  a  bishop.  Nothing  would  be  more  difficult  than  for  a 
 Methodist  minister  to  trace  any  link  to  Apostolic  Succession  in  the  High 
 Church  materialistic  sense.  Nothing  easier  than  for  him  to  do  so  in  the 
 true  spiritual  sense  of  sonship  in  the  Gospel.  A  solemn  setting  apart  of 
 men  to  the  ministry,  by  ministers,  had  been  the  invariable  rule  since  the 
 first.  Ordination  by  the  laying  on  of  hands  did  not  become  customary  in 
 Methodism  till  some  forty  years  after  that.  So  any  theory  of  sacerdotalism, 
 would  be  a  comedy  in  Methodism.  Methodism  holds  that  the  special 
 grace  and  wisdom  needful  for  the  due  fulfilment  of  any  calling  in  life,  the 
 ministry,  banking,  street  sweeping,  housewifery,  is  to  be  looked  for  by  all 
 alike  in  answer  to  faithful  prayer.  But  Methodism  is  even  more  radical 
 than  this  :  from  the  beginning  it  has  done  what  the  most  advanced  poli- 
 tical radicalism  is  only  now  with  pains  and  difficulty  advancing  towards. 
 And  in  Methodism  the  advanced  political  radicals  often  have  their  eyes 
 closed  on  this  one  point,  while  the  political  and  Methodistic  conservatives 
 are  more  clearsighted,  because  Mr.  Wesley  was  himself  more  clearsighted. 
 He  admitted  women  to  almost  an  equality  with  men  throughout  his 
 religious  system.  It  is  true  that  there  were  no  ordained  women  to  ofter 
 their  help  to  him  as  some  good  clergy  did,  and  it  is  true  that  he  never 
 ordained  or  sent  women  on  " rounds, "^ — now  called  "circuits,"  and  stiffly 
 organized — as  preachers  in  those  rough  times.  r>ut  the  son  of  Susannah 
 Wesley,  the  mother  of  the  Church,  the  woman  who  in  those  days  of  exces- 
 sive wifely  obedience  had  quietly  taken  in  the  villagers  to  her  kitchen 
 when  her  clergyman-husband  was  long  absent  from  his  charge,  and  in  spite 
 
METHODISM.  587 
 
 of  his  remonstrances  prayed  and  sung  and  taught  them  as  she  was  called  of 
 God  to  do ;  that  woman's  son,  trained  minutely  by  her  in  such  methodical 
 ways— of  saving  every  moment  of  his  days  for  orderly,  predetermined 
 purposes — has  earned  for  him,  and  for  the  great  multitude  whom  no  man 
 has  numbered,  who  throughout  the  world  have  now  for  one  hundred  and 
 fifty  years  followed  him  more  or  less  truly,  the  name  of  Metlwdisis  ;  that 
 woman's  son  was  not  likely  to  err  as  to  the  spiritual  capacity  and  func- 
 tion of  women  in  the  Christian  Church.  Like  St.  Paul,  whose  teaching 
 as  to  the  position  of  women  has  been  so  strangely  reversed  and  perverted, 
 he  recognised  the  duty  of  women  e.vtraordinarily  called  of  God  to  preach, 
 he  advised  and  arranged  that  women's  work  should,  so  far  as  his  organiza- 
 tion was  concerned,  not  force  them  into  positions  made  too  dangerous  for 
 them  by  the  licentiousness  and  roughness  of  the  day ;  but  he,  like  St.  Paul, 
 was  glad  to  learn  from  them,  and  was  careful  to  explain  that  these  were 
 casual  and  temporary  difficulties,  and  gave  to  women  as  much  place  and 
 authority  in  the  Church  as  was  then  practicable,  ^^'omen  preached  largely, 
 and  with  great  effect,  in  their  own  neighbourlioods  and  where  they  were 
 invited  to  go.  And  it  was  not  till  the  year  1801,  when  more  timid, 
 smaller-natured  men  were  at  the  helm,  that  the  Methodist  Conference 
 decided  that  the  women  should  no  longer  have  a  place  upon  the  lists 
 of  regularly  appointed  ministers  in  the  Methodist  chapels.  One  of  the 
 women  thus  rudely  and  foolishly  excluded  from  Wesleyan  Methodist  pul- 
 pits was  the  original  of  Dinah  Morris,  the  aunt  of  George  Eliot,  Mrs. 
 Samuel  Evans,  to  whom  the  news  was  conveyed  with  discomfort  by  my 
 great-uncle,  then  the  superintendent  of  the  "circuit"  in  which  she  lived. 
 She  joined  the  Kilhamites,  a  number  of  people  who  had  already  left  the 
 Methodist  Connexion  in  1796,  because  they  felt  the  growth  of  that  sacer- 
 dotal spirit  which  is  always  the  haunting  demon  of  the  Christian  minister, 
 going  about  seeking  whom  it  may  devour. 
 
 The  date  of  this  division,  or  first  offshoot  from  Wesleyan  ^Methodism,  is, 
 however,  significant,  as  all  the  early  dates  of  Methodism  are.  John  Wesley 
 had  been  born  into  an  England  brutalized  by  the  deadened  condition  of 
 the  Church  and  the  comparative  decay  of  Nonconformity,  and  had 
 throughout  his  laborious  life  been  pouring  on  the  people  the  spirit  of 
 brotherhood  in  the  Gospel  which  availed  to  save  England  from  the  ex- 
 cesses, while  it  prepared  it  to  derive  immense  blessing  from  the  true  under- 
 lying principles,  of  the  French  Revolution.  And  after  his  death,  while 
 the  mourning  and  disorganized  body  of  ordained  and  unordained  "helpers" 
 of  Mr.  Wesley  (as  the  ministers  were  then  called)  were  casting  about  for 
 an  organization  that  should  keep  themselves  and  the  people  together,  it  is 
 not  to  be  wondered  that  there  were  errors  both  revolutionary  and  anti- 
 revolutionary,  which  time  has  (juietly  operated  upon  till  the  reunion  is  not 
 far  distant  now  of  the  central  body  of  Wesleyan  Methodists  with  the 
 original  Kilhamite  secession,  and  others  that  have  followed  on  more  or 
 less  similar  grounds.     There  are  not  many  Methodists  now  living  who 
 
588  REUGIOrS   SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 would  not  say  that  each  secession  has  taken  from  Methodism  some  of  her 
 sainthest  and  most  inteUigent  children,  and  that  Methodism  has  learned 
 by  each  convulsion  some  lesson  of  democracy.  In  fact  every  point  of 
 Church  organization  wliich  has  been  contended  for  by  successive  seceders 
 has  now  been  carried  in  the  body  from  which  they  seceded.  And  now  at 
 last  Methodism  seems  to  have  learned  its  lesson.  The  authorities  no 
 longer  hasten  to  drive  beyond  the  borders  energetic  seething  souls,  anxious 
 to  keep  the  Cliurch  up  to  the  point  reached  in  popular  government  out- 
 side, and  the  young  energetic  men  are  content  to  submit  to  some  delay, 
 some  tight  holding  of  the  reins,  for  the  sake  of  those  who  do  not  yet,  but 
 soon  will,  think  with  them.  The  history  of  the  last  two  years  in  Methodism 
 has  been  a  strange  proof  of  this.  A  few  men  felt  that  the  methods  of 
 service,  of  attack  upon  wickedness  and  carelessness  around,  were  anti- 
 quated and  less  useful  than  they  had  been  ;  and  though  their  ideas  were 
 by  many  thought  wild,  conceited,  dangerous,  impracticable,  the  general 
 sense  of  the  Church  was  that  room,  time,  money,  and  permission  ought 
 to  be  given  for  a  fair  trial.  That  the  wisdom  of  the  forward  movement 
 has  been  abundantly  proved  by  success  is  known,  I  do  not  doubt,  to  some 
 here.  To  how  great  an  extent  it  has  been  successful  it  would  need,  in 
 these  days  of  quick  and  perfected  communication,  a  world-wide  knowledge 
 to  estimate.  iMeanwhile  Methodists  thank  God  and  take  courage,  and 
 turn  with  a  bolder  face  than  ever  to  the  surrounding  masses  of  the  people, 
 rich  and  poor,  Christian  and  non-Christian,  and  say  :  "  Here  is  a  form  of 
 Church  organization  which  offers  to  you  full  use  of  every  faculty  you  have, 
 naturally  or  by  acquirement,  if  only  it  is  unreservedly  devoted  to  the  ser- 
 vice of  Cod  and  of  His  people  the  world  over."  That  is  the  keystone 
 of  Methodism,  personal  consecration ;  the  consecration  which  is  possible 
 only  to  the  soul  that  is  consciously  forgiven  and  at  one  with  God,  at  one 
 in  will  and  in  deed,  carrying  out  His  purposes,  fulfilling  His  plans  for 
 tlie  world  day  by  day  in  every  form  of  activity  possible  to  humanity, — at 
 one  with  God  in  Christ. 
 
 Methodism  says  that  this  union  is  necessarily  a  conscious  one  ;  that 
 with  uncertainty  as  to  the  favour  and  love  of  God,  as  to  the  forgiveness 
 of  personal  sin,  there  cannot  co-exist  the  abounding  joy,  the  impelling 
 eagerness  of  love,  which  is  the  spring  of  practical  Christianity,  which  is 
 true  socialism.  Once  it  is  realized  that  we  are  (Jod's  children  and  it 
 becomes  natural  that,  like  Him,  we  should  care  for  the  poor  and  the  un- 
 happy; that,  like  Him,  we  should  take  great  part  in  the  conduct  of  poli- 
 tics; that,  like  Him,  we  should  wage  war  against  vice  and  cruelty  ;  like 
 Him,  love  peace  and  pursue  it ;  like  Him,  of  set  purpose  use  our  lives 
 and  our  deaths  for  the  good  of  others,  seeking  not  our  own. 
 
 IJut  this  is  not  a  new  doctrine  introduced  by  Metiiodism,  though  it  is 
 the  attracting  force  which  has  made  Methodism  in  spite  of  the  hugeness 
 of  the  numbers  of  people  who  call  themselves  Methodists  all  over  the 
 world,  some  five  and  a  half  millions — like  a  freemasonry.     They  may  be 
 
METHODISM.  589 
 
 Episcopalian  in  America,  Calvinistic  in  Wales,  Arminian  in  England  and 
 Australia  and  the  South  Sea  Islands,  and  may  vary  in  many  small  mat- 
 ters. In  the  great  matter  there  is  unity  :  we  know  our  sins  forgiven,  and 
 we  rejoice  in  the  love  of  God.  I  do  not  mean  that  all  who  call  them- 
 selves Methodists  are  faithful ;  I  do  not  mean  that  all  born  into  ^Methodist 
 houses  live  as  the  children  of  godly  parents  should  do ;  I  do  not  mean 
 that  we  are  a  mass  of  saints.  No,  indeed  ;  I  mean  that  every  loyal  and 
 true  member  of  this  great  Church  holds  the  doctrine  that  this  peace  and 
 joy  in  believing  is  a  privilege  from  which  only  personal  lack  of  faith  or 
 obedience  to  God's  law  can  hold  him.  That  it  is  God's  will  that  he 
 should  share  His  life  and  work.  May  God  grant  us  all  to  see  this  truth  ! 
 It  is  a  truth  which  has  wrought  the  three  great  revolutions  of  the  world 
 in  Christian  times.  St.  I'aul,  earnest  and  energetic,  distinguished  for 
 learning  and  zeal,  conscientious,  was  but  one  man  among  many  until  one 
 day  he  saw  himself  as  he  was  in  relation  to  Christ,  and  saw  in  the  same 
 critical  hour  what  God  in  Christ  was  ready  to  be  to  him.  He  knew  his 
 sins  forgiven  :  he  knew  that  a  new  life  had  begun  in  him.  He  was  con- 
 scious that  the  spirit  of  God  dwelt  in  him  witnessing  to  his  spirit  that  he 
 was  the  child  of  God,  and  leading,  restraining,  teaching  him  in  all  the 
 ways  in  which  till  then  he  had  relied  on  his  own  judgment.  The  oppo- 
 nents of  Christianity,  ignoring  Christ's  own  promise  of  such  teaching  by 
 His  Spirit,  attribute  the  change  of  the  then  known  world  from  paganism 
 of  the  most  vicious  type  to  Christianity  to  Paul,  the  man  who  had  passed 
 through  this  great  crisis — this  judgment  of  himself  and  of  his  relationship 
 to  God.  But  as  the  centuries  passed  on,  and  the  Church  had  grown 
 respectable  and  powerful,  this  necessity,  that  each  individual  should 
 in  the  same  way  see  himself  and  herself  in  the  light  of  heaven,  and 
 should  receive  the  Spirit  of  God  in  order  to  live  a  true  Christian  life, 
 receded  into  the  background.  Persecution  over,  there  was  not  the  same 
 obvious  desperate  necessity  for  each  to  be  sure  of  a  doctrine  for  which 
 they  might  be  called  on  to  give  up  everything  in  the  world.  And  the 
 Christian  Churches,  while  maturing  in  doctrine  in  some  directions,  grew 
 rotten  in  doctrine  in  others,  and  the  people  called  by  that  name  ceased 
 generally  to  understand  that  each  one  must  live  by  conscious  union  with 
 Christ  as  the  only  Saviour  from  sin  and  Teacher  in  the  ways  of  life.  The 
 Church  could  speak  with  human  voice  ;  and  ears  were  stopped,  and  did 
 not  listen  for  the  inward  voice  of  the  Spirit.  Then  came  Luther,  and 
 once  more  the  Christian  world  rang  with  the  teaching  that  this  man  had 
 passed  through  a  great  crisis  in  hfe  ;  had  seen  himself,  as  Paul  had,  in  his 
 true  colours ;  had  seen,  as  Paul  had,  the  promise  of  the  indwelling  Spirit ; 
 had  received  power  once  more  to  rouse  the  sleeping  world,  and  proclaim 
 to  it  the  blessed  fi.ict  that  each  one  might  know  his  sins  forgiven,  and 
 learn  by  an  ever-present  Helper  to  live  a  life  of  purity  and  joyful  brother- 
 liness  in  the  world,  by  word  and  deed — by  political  and  religious  activity 
 to  make  it  easier  for  those  around  him  to  live  good  lives,  to  return  to 
 
590 
 
 RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 God,  and  to  find  the  same  help  in  life  as  himself.  But,  just  as  in  St. 
 Paul's  time  this  new  spirit  in  the  people  led  to  persecution  by  the  authori- 
 ties, who,  conscious  in  themselves  that  they  did  not  subject  their  actions 
 to  the  same  law,  thought  their  power  threatened  by  an  appeal  to  the 
 Supreme  Authority,  so  in  Luther's  time,  the  new  consciousness  of  right 
 and  justice  caused  wars  to  rage  and  a  general  seething  unrest  of  the 
 people  of  Europe,  until  the  popular  spirit  was  exhausted  for  a  while,  and 
 lay  down  in  deathlike  sleep  ;  and  then  the  time  of  revolution  followed 
 on,  in  which  Wesley,  and  the  group  of  remarkable  men  and  women  who 
 wrought  with  him,  onte  more,  in  more  hopeful  surroundings,  preached, 
 and  showed  in  their  own  lives  that  Christianity  is  not  an  authoritative 
 dogma  to  be  taught  and  submitted  to,  but  a  life  of  spiritual  union  with 
 God  in  His  Son  Jesus  Christ ;  that  each  one  born  into  the  world  is  born 
 to  see  God  as  a  Father  who  has  in  Christ  shown  Himself  to  be  Love,  and 
 who  dwells  by  His  Spirit  in  the  innermost  secret  place  of  life  in  every  one 
 who  receives  Him,  in  such  a  manner  that  that  person  cannot  but  be  con- 
 scious that  sin  is  forgiven,  that  the  law  of  God  has  become  the  expression 
 of  his  own  opinion  and  will,  that  he  sees  it  in  all  ways  to  be  good  and 
 to  be  desired.  The  Spirit  of  God  witnesses  with  his  spirit  that  he  is  the 
 child  of  God.  Thus,  the  essence  of  Methodism  is  simply  that  secret  ot 
 Christianity  which  has  again  and  again  remoulded  society.  At  each  fresh 
 activity  of  this  motor-nervous  system  of  the  Christian  body  a  great  advance 
 has  been  made.  It  is  true  that  each  time  the  period  of  activity  has 
 been  followed  by  relapse,  but  it  never  has  been  as  before,  and  each  time 
 the  social  system  has  been  more  fit  to  take  a  deeper  and  wider  impres- 
 sion. And  now,  again,  I  believe  that  the  same  doctrine  has  begun  to  give 
 a  fresh  impulse  to  a  far  wider  world  than  ever.  Salvationism — an  offshoot 
 of  irrepressible  vigour  from  a  former  oftshoot  that  did  not  find  room 
 enough  in  the  Wesleyan  Methodism  which  was  beginning  to  be  respect- 
 able, and  to  frown  on  too  much  individuality  in  obedience  to  inward 
 impulsion — Salvationism  has  touched  the  brutalized  masses  in  our  own 
 country  and  elsewhere  with  a  light  and  flame  from  heaven,  and  is  sending 
 such  enthusiastic  embassies  to  India  as  to  convince  the  people  there  (as 
 no  previous  missions  have  done)  that  there  is  power  and  truth  in  Chris- 
 tianity, since  these  jireachers  of  it,  like  their  ALi'ter,  strip  themselves  of  all 
 their  advantages  and  gladly  lay  down  their  life  if  only  they  may  convince 
 the  people  that  they  have  a  Father  in  heaven,  a  Saviour  from  sin,  a  Spirit 
 of  purity  and  wisdom,  to  lead  them  into  all  truth. 
 
 Salvationism  is  the  offspring  of  Methodism,  and  is  Methodism  adapted 
 to  one  section  of  society.  But  Methodism  has  also  both  its  statelier  moods 
 and  its  h()ur;::;cois  developments.  It  has  its  "churches"  with  liturgical 
 services;  it  has  its  plain  chapels  with  hearty  comfortable  congregational 
 worship  ;  and  it  has  its  lovefeasts  and  class-meetings.  It  is,  in  fact,  less  a 
 material  organization  than  a  vital  force.  I  believe  that  the  next  few  years 
 may  see  it  doing  once  more  what  it  did  in  Wesley's  own  day,  pouring  into 
 
METHODISM.  591 
 
 churches  here  and  abroad,  new  and  old,  and  into  a  too  respectable  Non- 
 conformity-— for  Nonconformity,  by  instilling  good  principles  into  the  work- 
 ing classes,  always  tends  to  produce  nouveaux  riches,  who  grow  smug  and 
 too  respectable  for  anything  good — a  vivacity,  an  audacity,  of  Christian 
 vigour  which  must  remould  society  again.  It  has  been  said  lately,  "  We 
 are  all  socialists  now-a-days,"  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  at  least  the  religious 
 are  going  to  prove  themselves  so. 
 
 In  John  AVesley's  idea  Methodism  was  not  to  found  a  Church.  He  per- 
 mitted no  Methodist  service  to  be  held  in  church  hours,  and  even  to  the 
 present  day  in  quiet  villages  the  same  filial  respect  is  shown  to  the  National 
 Church.  The  change  came  when  the  numbers  of  persons  excluded  from 
 the  Communion,  and  treated  as  pariahs  by  the  clergy,  grew  so  great  that 
 it  was  a  practical  inconvenience  for  them  to  be  unable  to  use  the  best 
 hours  of  the  Sunday  for  the  services  to  which  they  were  attached.  But 
 the  spirit  of  dissent  which  now  exists  in  Methodism  is  an  unnatural  excre- 
 scence, and  will  die  down  again  as  soon  as  fresh  life  in  the  Church  of 
 England  causes  the  hand  of  brotherly  love  to  be  stretched  out.  What  I 
 have  said  about  the  width  of  Methodist  standards  of  doctrine  suffices  to 
 indicate  that  the  narrowness  of  dissent  is  non-Methodistic.  The  old  name 
 of  "  the  Society  called  Methodists  "  will  always  be  cherished.  And  in  this  it 
 has  a  great  advantage.  We  are  sometimes  told  that  the  Church  of  England 
 is  the  historical  Church,  or  the  Church  of  Rome.  But  we  say  no  :  the 
 historical  (!hurch  is,  of  course,  a  body  of  people,  called  by  any  name  or 
 names,  who  freely  seek  for  all  good  things  in  the  past  in  various  develop- 
 ments of  C'hristianity,  who  exclude  no  help  or  beauty  that  can  be  proved 
 to  be  helpful  or  beautiful  now;  who  are  ready  to  learn  from  comrades  now 
 living,  or  who  have  passed  away  to  the  Church  above  ;  a  body,  in  fact,  the 
 heir  of  the  saints  of  former  days,  aiming  at  training  saints  now,  and  that 
 is  making  Church  history  every  day. 
 
 This  Society  has  some  ways  of  conducting  its  religious  life  that  are 
 subjects  of  curiosity  and  misunderstanding  more  than  most  religious  orga- 
 nizations. Especially  I  mean  class-meetings  and  lovefeasts,  and  of  these 
 I  wish  to  speak.  Lovefeasts  are,  at  all  events  for  the  present,  rather  in 
 abeyance,  or  take  a  different  form.  As  I  remember  them,  they  were  occa- 
 sions on  which  pieces  of  currant-bread  and  water  were  passed  from  pew 
 to  pew  in  the  chapel,  and  then,  interspersed  with  singing  and  prayer,  one 
 short  speech  after  another  was  made  by  whoever  chose,  about  the  life  of 
 Christ  in  the  heart.  One  would  be  full  of  joy  and  praise  for  help  in 
 trouble,  or  added  and  sharpened  delight  in  happy  circumstances.  Another 
 would  tell  of  heavy-heartedness  and  clinging  faith  and  hope  in  God.  There 
 was  always  a  feeling  of  special  approach  to  the  presence  of  God,  and  I 
 think  these  meetings  were  good.  Of  course  they  gave  opening  by  their 
 popularity  to  many  strange  speeches ;  and  I  must  claim  for  Methodism  a 
 greater  capacity  for  humour  in  religion  than  any  other  Church.  We  are 
 not  afraid  of  humour.     It  is  a  part  of  the  human  nature  which  our  Master 
 
592  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 took  upon  Himself;  and  when  the  human  being  is  at  one  with  Him,  fun 
 is  part  of  the  natural  play  of  vitality.  But  it  is  kindly,  decorous,  and  well 
 kept  in  hand.  Many  and  many  a  story  of  queer  sayings  in  lovefeasts  I 
 could  tell  if  this  were  the  opportunity.  They  were  domestic  gatherings. 
 Now-a-days  we  meet  differently,  perhaps  not  so  familiarly.  Class-meetings, 
 however,  have  not  suffered  much  change.  They  are  usually  small  gather- 
 ings of  some  dozen  to  twenty  people  for  strictly  devotional  purposes,  and 
 for  giving  and  getting  sympathy  and  mutual  advice  in  leading  a  godly  life. 
 Very  helpful,  indeed,  they  are,  and  the  tie  that  binds  members  of  a  class 
 can  become  exceedingly  valuable.  They  vary  as  infinitely  as  the  character- 
 istic of  the  leader,  or  person  who  is  accountable  to  Methodism  for  those 
 put  under  his  or  her  spiritual  charge  ;  as  infinitely  as  the  characteristics  of 
 the  members.  In  some  cases  it  is  a  stiffer,  in  some  a  more  homely 
 meeting.  But  in  every  case  the  word  of  God  is  accepted  as  the  rule  of 
 life,  and  the  little  groups  try  to  help  each  other  to  conform  to  it ;  and 
 membership  in  one  of  these  classes  constitutes  membership  in  the 
 Methodist  Society.  We  do  not  count  our  members  by  communicants  or 
 by  attendance  at  our  places  of  worship,  so  that  when  I  t[uoted  the  numbers 
 of  Methodists  all  over  the  world  as  being  five  and  a  half  millions,  other 
 Churches,  who  count  by  church  attendance,  would  have  multiplied  that  by 
 five. 
 
 These  domesticated  groups  are  a  great  help  to  jMethodist  ministers  in 
 getting  to  know  the  needs  of  their  people.  For  the  minister  is  bound  to 
 visit  all  the  classes  of  his  congregations  once  every  quarter  of  a  year,  and  so 
 gets  a  quite  rare  opportunity  of  gauging  the  spiritual  tone.  He  learns  where 
 to  look  for  the  spiritually  minded  men  and  women  who  will  be  likely  to  be 
 useful  workers  in  the  spiritual  and  temporal  offices  of  the  Church ;  where  the 
 lads  are  growing  who  will  make  good  ministers,  and  should  be  encouraged, 
 and  where  he  can  best  get  help  for  some  doubtful  or  tender  spirit  whose 
 troubles  have  been  confided  to  him.  And  the  people  get  to  know  him— 
 a  very  important  thing  in  Methodism.  For  Methodist  ministers  are  not 
 ])ut  in  charge  of  a  congregation  for  life,  or  till  a  better  opening  comes. 
 They  change  from  place  to  place  every  three  years,  alternating  between 
 country  and  town  charges,  learning  life  and  people  more  thoroughly  than 
 any  other  body  of  men,  and  carrying  with  them  from  place  to  place  a 
 sense  of  brotherhood,  and  an  actuality  of  friendshij;  which  welds  Method- 
 ists of  all  classes  and  all  places  together.  This  healthy  circulation  was 
 the  invariable  rule ;  indeed,  the  change  used  to  be  actually,  and  still 
 theoretically  may  be,  made  every  year.  But  for  some  purposes  it  is  be- 
 coming desiral)le  to  give  longer  tenure  to  some  few  ministers,  and  the 
 ecclesiastical  system  I  have  attempted  to  indicate  is  easily  clastic  enough 
 for  that. 
 
 But  there  is  another  peculiar  institution  in  Methodism,  which  greatly 
 modifies  the  relation  of  the  ministers  and  the  people,  and  which  enables 
 me  to  say  that,  with  the  exception  of  the  administration  of  the  Sacra- 
 
.METHODISM.  593 
 
 meats,  there  is  no  function  of  the  Christian  ministry  which  Methodist 
 ministers  do  not  share  with  the  laity.  The  pastoral  office  is  shared  with 
 the  men  and  women  leaders  of  classes,  the  ecclesiastical  rule  of  the  Church 
 is  shared  with  laymen  (and  in  the  lower  branches  theoretically  with  women), 
 and  even  the  office  of  preaching  is  shared  very  largely  with  lay  preachers 
 who  live  by  their  own  labour  and  give  their  Sundays  to  preaching  in  their 
 own  neighbourhoods,  and  sometimes  in  distant  parts  of  the  country.  The 
 office  of  a  local  preacher  is  one  that  has  always  been  held  by  men  of  the 
 most  various  attainments  and  positions  in  the  world,  and  much  of  the 
 vigorous  life  of  the  Methodist  Society  is  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  ministry 
 is  thus  felt  to  be  not  a  far-oft"  office,  but  one  of  the  functions  of  the  Chris- 
 tian life  ex-ercisable  by  any  one  whose  capacity  for  teaching  is  recognised 
 b)  a  number  of  his  fellows.  Many  a  useful  local  preacher  has  wished  to 
 be  a  minister  set  apart  and  ordained,  but  his  suitability  for  Orders  has 
 not  been  clear  to  the  authorities.  It  is  evident  that  "  priests  and  people,"' 
 as  they  are  commonly  classed  elsewhere,  are  more  intimately  and  socially 
 close  together  in  Methodism  than  elsewhere.  Yet  there  is  no  lack  of 
 reverence  or  esteem  for  those  who  deem  themselves  called,  and  whose 
 call  is  recognised  by  the  Church,  to  give  themselves  entirely  to  the  work 
 of  the  ministry.  There  is  no  superstition  about  Orders,  but  the  ministry 
 is  considered  the  highest  vocation  in  life,  and  worthy  so  to  be  held  in 
 reverence. 
 
 I  do  not  pretend  to  do  justice  to  my  subject.  I  can  do  nothing  more 
 than  hint  at  a  few  of  the  salient  features  of  Methodism.  But  I  can  end 
 my  lecture  to-day  as  some  others  could  not  do.  You  were  not,  I  suppose, 
 invited  to  become  disciples  of  Confucianism  or  Shintoism,  nor,  I  hope,  of 
 that  oddity  now  called  Buddhism  which  is  not  Buddhism ;  but  I  have  the 
 happiness  to  be  able  to  say  that  1  have  no  desire  to  take  leave  of  any  of 
 you.  I  rather  say,  speaking  in  the  name  of  Methodists  in  general,  to  all 
 and  everybody  the  round  world  over,  "'Come  with  us,  and  we  will  try  to 
 do  you  good." 
 
 VOL.    I. — pt.  2. 
 
 R  R 
 
IRVINGISM; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE   CATHOLIC    APOSTOLIC  CHURCH. 
 By  Edward  Miller,  M.A. 
 
 The  system  of  religion  popularly  known  as  Irvingism,  or  as  styled  by  the 
 members  more  ambitiously  "  The  Catholic  Apostolic  Church,"  is  emphati- 
 cally a  child  of  the  nineteenth  century.  It  took  its  rise  out  of  the  study  of 
 prophecy  as  it  was  pursued  in  the  first  half  of  that  period. 
 
 The  atmosphere  may  be  said  to  have  been  ripe  with  undefined  expecta- 
 tion of  coming  change  when  Edward  Irving,  then  a  young  Scotch  Presby- 
 terian and  assistant  of  Chalmers,  was  elected  to  the  pastorate  of  the 
 Caledonian  Church  in  London.  The  congregation  consisted  of  some  fifty 
 people  when  he  came  in  July,  1822.  Before  long  the  little  chapel  in 
 Hatton  Garden  was  crowded  to  overflowing.  Led  by  Canning  and 
 Mackintosh,  the  society  of  the  day  flocked  to  hear  the  great  preacher. 
 Many  people  could  not  come  within  the  sound  of  his  voice.  Lady  Jersey, 
 the  celebrated  leader  of  fashion,  was  seen  sitting  on  the  pulpit  steps. 
 Irving  reached  at  a  bound  the  zenith  of  his  popularity,  which  thenceforwards 
 waned  gradually  till  his  death. 
 
 Into  the  tide  was  drawn  a  clever  but  eccentric  banker,  who  belonged  to 
 one  of  the  old  Scotch  families,  Henry  Drummond,  owner  of  a  beautiful 
 place  at  Albury,  near  Guildford.  Here  in  1826,  and  in  the  four  following 
 years,  Mr.  Drummond  invited  a  body  of  men  to  discuss  prophecy  with 
 reference  to  the  events  which  were  at  hand.  'Phe  list  of  those  who  came 
 in  one  year  or  other  included  men  of  different  alliances  and  difterent 
 opinions,  of  whom  only  a  small  portion  became  ultimately  members  of  the 
 future  religious  body.  They  believed  that  the  millennium  was  close  at  hand, 
 and  "  that  a  great  period  of  1,260  years  commenced  in  the  reign  of  Justi- 
 nian and  terminated  at  the  French  Revolution,  and  that  the  vials  of  the 
 Apocalypse  began  then  to  be  poured  out;  that  our  blessed  Lord  will 
 shortly  appear,  and  that,  therefore,  it  is  the  duty  of  all  who  so  believe  to 
 press  these  considerations  on  the  attention  of  all  men." 
 
 The  meetings  were  arrested  by  the  appearance  in  Scotland  of  what  some 
 took  to  be  miraculous  powers,  manifested  in  cures  of  illness,  and  in  the 
 utterance  of  unknown  tongues.  John  15ate  Cardale,  who  afterwards  be- 
 came the  first  "  apostle,"  went  with  a  party  to  pursue  investigations  on  the 
 spot.  And  in  the  winter  after  his  return,  in  Irving's  congregation,  in  Car- 
 dale's  house,  and  elsewhere,  prayers  were  continually  offered  for  the  ap- 
 
 594 
 
IRVING  ISM. 
 
 3VD 
 
 pearance  of  prophets  and  a]:)OStles.  At  length,  on  April  .30th,  1S31,  Mrs. 
 Cardale  spoke  with  great  solemnity  in  "a  tongue,"  and  "prophesied."  In 
 course  of  time  she  was  followed  by  others,  and  at  length  scarcely  a  service 
 occurred  whicli  was  not  interrupted  by  such  strange  utterances.  Irving 
 did  not  know  what  to  do  :  he  had  evoked  a  power  which  was  beyond  his 
 control. 
 
 These  events  caused  great  astonishment,  and  i)eople  came  from  all  quar- 
 ters to  hear  the  prophesyings.  But  in  course  of  time,  as  they  were  gener- 
 ally considered  to  lack  the  signs  of  genuineness,  and  the  "unknown 
 tongues  "  presented  no  resemblance  to  any  kind  of  language,  the  interest 
 subsided. 
 
 After  various  difficulties,  amongst  which  were  the  removal  of  Irving  from 
 the  Caledonian  Church  in  consequence  of  heretical  teaching  upon  the  myste- 
 rious subject  of  our  Lord's  nature,  and  his  deposition  from  the  Presbyterian 
 ministry,  the  new  religious  body  was  gradually  organized.  Cardale,  Drum- 
 mond,  and  ten  others,  were  supposed  to  be  called  by  the  prophets  to  be 
 apostles;  and  on  the  7th  of  July,  1835,  they  met  together  for  the  solemn 
 appointment  of  the  "twelve"  by  the  assembled  Church.  Unfortunately, 
 they  had  reckoned  without  consent  in  one  case.  Mr.  David  Pow,  a  Pres- 
 byterian minister  who  had  been  deposed  because  of  acknowledging  the 
 tongues,  was  not  there.  The  meeting  was  postponed  a  week,  and  two  of 
 the  most  influential  went  to  Scotland  to  bring  the  recusant,  but  to  no  pur- 
 pose. On  the  i4tii,  the  members  fondly  persuaded  themselves  that  they 
 found  a  precedent  in  the  case  of  the  traitor  Judas,  and  chose  two,  one  of 
 whom  the  prophets  declared  to  be  the  twelfth  apostle. 
 
 It  is  remarkable  that  their  greatest  man — in  fact,  the  only  man  who  was 
 known  at  all  widely  outside  of  the  immediate  connections  of  the  Irvingite 
 body  in  the  field  of  religion — was  never  advanced  to  one  of  their  highest 
 offices.  He  was  made  an  angel,  it  is  true,  or  as  they  consider  the  office,  a 
 bishop  ;  but  even  then  he  was  under  the  strict  domination  of  apostles, 
 and  even  of  prophets.  Disappointment  settled  over  him  :  he  had  expected 
 a  grand  and  overwhelming  outpouring  of  the  Spirit,  and  a  dramatic  conver- 
 sion of  multitudes.  In  decaying  health,  he  started  northwards  to  woo  such 
 an  occurrence.  It  came  not ;  and  he  died  at  Glasgow  in  December,  1834, 
 a  broken-down,  worn-out  old  man,  though  at  the  age  only  of  forty-two. 
 
 After  their  "separation,"  as  they  termed  it,  these  apostles,  accompanied  by 
 some  prophets  and  evangelists,  retired  to  Albury  to  build  up  their  system. 
 They  believed  that  our  Lord  always  intended  to  appoint  twenty-four 
 apostles,  twelve  for  the  Jews,  and  twelve  for  the  Gentiles, — the  former 
 twelve  to  start  the  Church,  and  the  latter  twelve  to  present  it,  Jews  and 
 Gentiles,  to  Him  at  His  second  coming.  They  supposed  that  He  began 
 to  execute  this  intention  in  the  appointment  of  the  St.  Paul  and  St.  Barna- 
 
 as  ;  but  that  owing  to  the  sin  of  the  world  the  work  of  those  two  eminent 
 apostles  ended  in  failure.  The  apostles  died,  and  as  Irvingites  imagine, 
 the  Church  "  fell  like  a  dead  thing  to  the  ground,"  till  at  the  close  approach 
 
596  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  His  second  Advent  in  the  early  part  of  the  nineteenth  century,  accord- 
 ing to  their  studies  of  prophecy,  He  appointed  Cardale,  Drummond,  and 
 their  colleagues  to  accomplish  what  St.  Paul  and  St.  Barnabas  were  unable 
 to  effect. 
 
 Animated  by  these  grand  imaginations,  they  perfected  at  Albury  their  very 
 elaborate  system  upon  the  pattern  of  the  Tabernacle  of  old,  and  upon  the 
 principles  promulgated  in  the  Pentateuch.  And  they  drew  up  three  "Testi- 
 monies "  couched  in  lofty  language,  for  presentation  to  the  Potentates  of  the 
 world  and  the  bishops  of  the  Church  universal.  Then  the)'  mapped  out 
 Europe  into  "  Tribes,"  of  which  each  apostle  took  one  under  his  charge. 
 They  were  fully  convinced  that  the  time  was  short,  that  their  operations 
 must  be  extended  all  over  the  Church  ;  and  they  looked,  like  Irving,  for 
 some  wondrous  revolution  in  which  the  heavenly  will  would  be  made  mani- 
 fest, and  all  the  world  would  be  silent  before  Him,  and  before  them  as  His 
 twelve  chosen  and  effective  ministers. 
 
 ^V^ith  these  hopes  they  went  forth  early  in  the  year  1838,  each  apostle 
 being  accompanied  by  his  prophet,  evangelist,  and  pastor,  thus  presenting 
 an  epitome  of  the  fourfold  ministry  which  obtained  amongst  them.  It  was 
 supposed  that  the  second  Advent  wonld  probably  occur  at  the  end  of  1260 
 days  from  their  "separation  "  to  be  apostles  ;  and  they  were  ordered  there- 
 fore to  return  to  Albury  by  Christmas,  1838,  in  readiness  for  a  momentous 
 event. 
 
 In  a  few  cases  the  testimonies  were  presented,  such  as  to  Cardinal  Acton 
 or  the  Pope,  and  to  Prince  Metternich  for  the  Emperor  of  Austria.  The 
 several  apostles  did  what  they  could  in  a  quiet  way,  being  especially  obser- 
 vant of  one  of  the  orders  given  them,  which  appears  strangely  inconsistent 
 with  their  character  as  apostles,  entrusted,  as  they  imagined,  with  incon- 
 ceivably awful  responsibilities,  viz.,  to  remember  that  they  went  only  in  the 
 character  of  "private  individuals,  as  learners  and  observers  rather  than 
 teachers."  Their  achievements  were  exceedingly  scanty.  Some  people  in 
 Switzerland,  a  few  in  France,  some  more  in  Germany,  made  up  the  sum  of 
 their  conversions.  In  Roman  Catholic  quarters  the  progress  was  nothing 
 at  all.  The  world  went  on  as  usual,  and  religious  life  moved  undisturbed  by 
 even  a  ripple  on  the  surface.  Operations  were  conducted  in  so  modest  and 
 refined  a  manner,  and  were  so  devoid  of  consequences  of  any  sort,  that  none 
 of  those  commotions  which  marked  the  track  of  St.  Paul  and  St.  Barnabas 
 on  their  journey  indicated  anywhere  the  presence  and  energy  of  any  one 
 of  these  modern  apostles. 
 
 They  met  at  Christmas  without  any  remarkable  occurrence,  and  separated 
 again  for  their  respective  provinces.  Mr.  Woodhouse,  despairing  of  Austria, 
 sought  the  more  congenial  soil  of  America.  As  in  St.  Pauls  journeys,  the 
 character  of  the  first  determined  the  nature  of  the  second  attempt.  Success 
 did  not  crown  their  efforts.  The  Church  may  be  said  to  have  been  neither 
 better  nor  worse  for  what  they  did  as  well  as  they  could  manage.  But  at 
 home  troubles  arose  ;  and  at  the  end  of  1839,  the  senior  apostle  sent  to  recall 
 
IRVJNGISM.  597 
 
 them  ;  and  in  June,  1840,  just  five  years  after  their  formal  separation,  they 
 returned,  never  again  to  act  in  "  Twelve-fold  unity,"  and  never  again  to  ven- 
 ture upon  such  an  etfort  as  to  seek  to  unite  the  entire  Christian  Church  in 
 preparation  for  the  Lord's  arrival. 
 
 It  may  be  remembered  that  the  apostles  owed  their  original  place  in  the 
 body  to  the  prophets,  who  called  them  each  individually  to  the  office  which 
 they  were  supposed  to  bear.  After  long  preparation,  the  apostles  had  gone 
 forth  to  their  work,  and  what  they  eftected  was  afterwards  described  by  one 
 of  them  in  the  words,  "  The  apostles  and  those  with  them  confess  their 
 failure."  Consequently,  confidence  in  them  had  fallen,  faults  were  freely 
 found,  changes  were  advocated,  and  the  prophets  took  advantage  of  their 
 position  as  having  been  prior  to  the  apostles,  at  least  in  point  of  time,  to 
 rise  virtually  in  rebellion.  Cardale  could  not  suppress  these  uprisings,  and 
 it  required  the  entire  force  of  all  together  to  reduce  the  body  to  working 
 order.  The  apostles  met,  and  issued  a  document  pointing  out  in  severe 
 language  that  the  prophets  must  be  subject  to  the  apostles,  that  their  utter- 
 ances must  be  accepted  by  the  apostles  before  they  could  be  considered 
 to  be  prophecies,  and  that  no  Council,  such  as  their  "  Council  of  Zion," 
 which  was  thenceforward  suspended,  could  be  considered  to  have  authority 
 over  the  apostles.  On  no  other  terms  would  they  -the  apostles — act  or 
 undertake  the  responsibility  of  the  care  and  guidance  of  the  Churches. 
 
 The  uprising  was  repressed,  but  the  unity  and  co-operation  of  the 
 apostles  was  irretrievably  broken.  Mackenzie,  the  last  elected,  retired,  and 
 never  afterwards  acted  with  them.  In  fact,  after  a  few  years  had  elapsed, 
 it  seemed  as  if  the  body  would  come  to  an  end.  Cardale  retired  for  three 
 years.  Drummond  thought  so  little  of  a  tremendous  responsibility  resting 
 upon  him  in  preparing  the  whole  Church  for  the  second  Advent,  that  he 
 consented  to  represent  his  county  in  Parliament  during  the  last  twelve  years 
 of  his  life,  and  did  so  w'ith  much  assiduity  and  success.  During  that  time 
 he  told  one  of  his  earlier  friends  "that  he  believed  they  were  all  in  ship- 
 w-reck,  and  that  the  best  advice  he  could  give  was  that  each  should  lay  hold 
 of  any  plank  within  reach.'"'  Dalton  went  back  to  his  work  as  an  English 
 clergyman.  The  acknowledgment  of  failure  made  by  Mr.  Sitwell,  another 
 of  them,  has  been  already  noticed.  The  numbers  of  the  sect,  never  in 
 correspondence  with  their  ambitious  principal,  unless  it  was  in  the  infant 
 days  of  Irving's  first  preaching,  were  reduced.  Yet  they  continued  in  a 
 small  sphere  of  action,  and  made  some  developments  in  a  direction  never 
 dreamed  of  at  first. 
 
 When  the  apostles  were  endeavouring  to  extend  their  boundaries  on  the 
 Continent,  and  were  thinking  how  they  could  draw  into  their  circle  members 
 of  foreign  Churches,  they  became  forcibly  impressed  with  the  utter  impos- 
 sibility of  attracting  Roman  Catholics  and  others  to  a  mode  of  worship 
 constructed  mainly  upon  Presbyterian  models.  They  had  studied  the  Old 
 Testament,  and  had  entered  deeply  into  the  ceremonial  and  symbolism  of 
 the  Jewish  Law.     .So  that  it  was  not  a  great  step  in  their  ideas  when  in  a 
 
598  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 French  churcli,  upon  seeing  a  priest  enter  vested,  one  of  their  prophets 
 exclaimed,  "  These  are  the  vestments  which  the  Lord  would  have  for  His 
 service,  in  which  His  priesthood  should  appear  before  Him  to  minister  His 
 holy  rites  in  His  presence."  And  now  a  study  of  the  early  Liturgies  of 
 the  Church  led  them  to  make  up  a  ritual  which  is  dignified,  and  has  many 
 points  to  recommend  it  in  the  eyes  of  such  as  are  good  judges  of  such 
 things. 
 
 But  they  also  adopted  another  peculiar  ceremony  which  has  landed  them 
 in  many  inconsistencies.  Building  upon  the  sealing  of  the  144,000  as  de- 
 scribed in  the  Apocalypse,  they  embraced  the  idea  that  sealing  is  necessary 
 in  order  to  escape  "  the  great  tribulation,"  which  they  expect  at  our  Lord's 
 arrival ;  that  their  apostles  have  their  power  of  sealing ;  that  those  who 
 are  thus  sealed  will  follow  the  Lamb  whithersoever  He  goeth ;  that  accord- 
 ing to  the  passage  in  the  Revelation  xii.,  12,000  must  be  sealed  from  each 
 tribe ;  and  that  when  this  is  accomplished  the  Lord  will  come.  Sealing  is 
 not  bestowed  till  "the  age  of  twenty  years,  and  then  only  by  imposition 
 of  the  hands  of  an  apostle,  or  as  the  apostles  are  now  all  dead  but  one,  of 
 a  coadjutor-apostle. 
 
 This  rite  was  thus  started  in  all  the  stern  grandeur  which  characterized 
 the  doings  of  the  earlier  Irvingites.  Indeed,  if  they  adopted  such  a  cere- 
 mony at  all,  the  model  in  the  Apocalypse  required  nothing  else.  But  no 
 lesson  has  been  taught  anywhere  more  thoroughly  than  this  in  the  history 
 of  Irvingism,  viz.,  that  grand  conception  and  humble  action  do  not  ordi- 
 narily coincide.  Two  apostles  absolutely  refused  to  seal,  so  that  in  their 
 tribes  there  must  have  been  an  absolute  vacuum,  besides  the  existence  of 
 disagreement  amongst  the  twelve  in  such  an  important  matter.  Moreover, 
 various  reasons  of  a  different  kind  have  made  the  number  in  several  of  the 
 tribes  infinitesimally  small.  At  one  time,  the  idea  was  promulgated  that  the 
 apostles  who  died  before  sealing  their  number  would  make  it  up  in  the  next 
 world.  Now  it  is  asserted,  that  there  was  never  any  authorized  intention 
 of  making  up  the  number  in  each  tribe.  This  affords  a  specimen  of  the 
 manner  in  which  Irvingites  are  forced  by  the  stern  logic  of  life  to  turn  their 
 backs  upon  their  past  history,  and  to  make  their  doctrines  square  with 
 facts  when  facts  absolutely  refuse  to  square  with  doctrines. 
 
 Their  subsequent  career  has  been  comparatively  uneventful.  There  is 
 but  little  proselytizing  ;  and  the  members  do  not  press  their  belief  where 
 it  is  not  welcome.  The  apostles  have  died  all  but  one,  W.  Woodhouse. 
 The  death  of  the  first  in  1855  caused  a  sensation,  but  he  was  the  one  who 
 had  retired  before.  He  was  followed  in  the  same  year  by  two,  and  a  large 
 gap  was  made  in  the  number.  I  )rumm()nd  and  Perceval  (son  of  the  Prime 
 Minister  shot  by  Bellingham)  died  in  1S59,  and  three  more  before  i866, 
 Dalton  in  iSyijCardale  in  1877,  and  Armstrong  about  the  same  time. 
 What  will  happen  when  Mr.  A\'oodhouse  goes,  no  one  knows.  It  may 
 however  be  conlidentl)  concluded  that  some  arrangement  will  be  made, 
 however  it  may  collide  with  past  principles  and  practice. 
 
IRVINGISM.  599 
 
 The  character  of  Irvingism  is  best  learnt  from  the  history  of  the  sect. 
 But  it  is  necessary  to  describe,  as  far  as  space  will  allow,  some  of  the  lead- 
 ing tenets. 
 
 The  pivot  on  which  all  turns  is  the  immediate  expectation  of  our  Lord's 
 second  Advent.  With  many  of  them  this  is  a  most  lively  motive  to  con- 
 scientious life  :  with  many  of  course  what  is  long-delayed,  and  after  having 
 been  expected  time  after  time  has  been  withheld,  ceases  to  have  such  effect. 
 The  meaning  of  their  apostolate  is  that  our  Lord  is  supposed  to  have  found 
 that  the  Church  by  itself  had  been  unable  to  get  ready  for  Him  to  come, 
 and  has  therefore  Personally  interposed,  speaking  through  prophets,  and  has 
 sent  apostles,  officers  not  of  separate  Churches  or  Branches  of  the  Church, 
 but  of  the  Church  Universal,  to  make  special  preparations  for  Him.  The 
 apostles  are  thus  supposed  to  be  the  link  between  heaven  and  earth. 
 Hence  it  is,  that  claiming  this  superior  and  universal  position,  above  Pope 
 or  Archbishop,  they  styled  themselves  "  The  Catholic  Apostolic  Church," 
 and  protest  against  being  called  a  sect,  though  that  name  is  all  that  can 
 be  conceded  to  them  by  those  who  see  no  foundation  for  their  claim,  and 
 would  be  themselves  compromised  by  admitting  it. 
 
 Another  of  their  leading  tenets  is  the  existence  of  a  fourfold  ministrj-, 
 which  they  base  upon  St.  Paul's  words  (Eph.  iv.  ii),  and  upon  the  four 
 beasts  mentioned  in  Ezekiel  and  in  the  Apocalyse.  The  apostles  are  sup- 
 posed to  rule  ;  the  prophets  to  declare  the  will  of  God  ;  the  evangelists  to 
 bring  in  converts  ;  and  the  pastors  to  take  care  of  them  when  brought  into 
 the  Church.  Their  system  is  most  elaborate  and  steel-bound  :  there  is 
 little  room  for  freedom  of  movement  amidst  their  ingenious  proprieties. 
 They  have  many  orders  in  their  hierarchy.  L'nder  the  apostles  are  angels 
 who  are  supposed  to  be  bishops,  and  under  the  angels  are  elders.  An 
 angel  properly  has  under  him  also  prophets,  evangelists  and  pastors,  be- 
 sides deacons  who  are  in  a  lower  order,  and  perhaps  helps,  deaconesses, 
 under-deacons,  and  lay-assistants.  It  will  be  seen  that  most  of  the  mem- 
 bers must  be  office-bearers  of  some  grade  or  other.  They  are  supported 
 by  tithes  which  are  paid  with  great  regularity,  and  of  which  the  control  is 
 strictly  kept  in  the  hands  of  the  apostle.'  They  have  a  prayer-book  of 
 their  own  and  a  peculiar  calendar  of  days  to  be  observed.- 
 
 Irvingites  are  very  quiet  and  dignified  as  regards  their  own  tenets.  In- 
 deed, they  are  far  too  much  so  for  the  maintenance  and  propagation  of 
 what  they  hold  to  be  truths  of  terribly  important  nature.  As  an  instance 
 of  this  reticence,  they  have  refused,  as  I  am  informed,  to  give  an  account  of 
 their  position  in  this  series.  Yet,  if  the  destinies  of  the  Catholic  Church 
 are  greatly  in  their  hands,  and  depend  largely  upon  acceptance  of  what 
 they  hold  to  have  been  revealed  to  them,  it  is  impossible  not  to  see  that 
 they  ought  to  take  any  opportunity  of  making  known  what  is.  as  they  think, 
 
 1  Whitehouse  v.  Woodhouse. 
 
 -  vSee    my    History  aud  Docfn'ncs   of  Irringism,    vol.    ii.,    chap.    i.        Kegan    Paul 
 &  Co. 
 
6oo  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  supreme  importance  to  all  people.     Unless  the  candle  is  put  upon  the 
 candlestick,  how  shall  it  give  light  to  all  that  are  in  the  house? 
 
 Under  these  circumstances,  the  secretary  has  applied  to  me,  and  has 
 used  such  kindly  pressure,  that  after  declining  as  I  thought  once  and  again, 
 I  have  consented  to  write  upon  this  subject.  But  I  must  now  act  upon  the 
 stipulation  which  I  made, — especially  since  advantage  which  I  did  not 
 anticipate  has  been  taken  of  former  words  of  mine, — and  state  distinctly 
 though  briefly,  why  there  is  no  sort  of  doubt  in  my  mind  that  Irvingites 
 have  been  the  victims  of  a  delusion. 
 
 1.  In  the  first  place,  their  system  is  grounded  upon  a  method  of  interpre- 
 tation of  prophecy  which  has  proved  to  be  unsound.  For  their  apostolate 
 to  have  been  real,  our  Lord  ought  to  have  come  before  1855.  He  has  not 
 yet  appeared  ;  and  perhaps  those  are  right  who  suppose  that  the  signs  of 
 His  Advent  may  be  withheld  till  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  have  been 
 much  more  merged  than  they  have  been  yet  in  the  kingdom  of  God  and  of 
 His  Christ.  But  be  this  as  it  may — and  we  know  not  when  He  may  arrive 
 — according  to  Irvingite  doctrine,  pure  and  unalloyed,  the  apostles  ought 
 to  have  been  on  the  earth  in  evident  and  acknowledged  success  to  welcome 
 His  approach. 
 
 2.  The  strange  vicissitudes  of  the  history  of  the  sect,  the  want  of  success, 
 nay,  the  positive  failure,  the  retirements  of  apostles,  grand  attempts  ending 
 in  obscure  life,  prove  by  the  test  of  events  that  the  Divine  Head  was  not 
 specially  there.  Great  things  in  various  ways  have  been  effected  in  religion 
 during  this  century.  There  have  been  seen  conspicuous  earnestness,  suc- 
 cessful work  amongst  the  poor  and  needy  in  the  thickly  crowded  purlieus 
 of  cities,  conversion  of  the  heathen,  a  noble  sacrifice  of  lives,  martyrdoms, 
 and  a  real  grappling  with  evil  glaringly  rampant  ;  and  where  in  all  these 
 achievements  has  been  the  Irvingite  banner  or  where  any  Irvingite  heroes  ? 
 When  their  claims  have  been  so  lofty,  how  is  it  that  these  claims  have  not 
 been  seen  in  noble  operation?  If  their  leadership  is  to  be  followed  by  all 
 the  Church,  how  is  it  that  we  have  not  descried  in  them  the  grand  quali- 
 ties with  which  leaders  draw  people  to  themselves? 
 
 3.  liut  indeed  their  conceptions,  grand  as  they  are,  have  been  grounded 
 upon  petty  views  of  religion.  They  think  that  our  Lord  intended  to  have 
 come  again  during  the  lifetime  of  St.  Peter,  St.  James,  St.  John  and  their 
 nine  colleagues.  How  can  they  imagine  that  the  wondrous  Incarnation, 
 with  all  its  sacrifices,  could  have  been  undertaken  by  the  Son  of  God, 
 simply  to  save  the  contemporaries  of  the  Apostles  ?  Again,  they  supposed 
 that  our  Lord  was  coming  in  a  hurry  at  the  beginning  of  this  century, 
 allowing  time  for  only  a  few  preparations  to  be  made.  For  how  few  must 
 they  suppose  that  the  salvation  of  mankind  was  intended  !  They  blot  out 
 nearly  eighteen  centuries  from  the  existence  of  the  ( Miurch.  They  reck 
 little  of  the  growth  of  the  ("hurch,  of  the  conversions,  the  endurance  of 
 persecutions,  the  noble  martyrdoms,  the  earnest  contentions  for  the  faith. 
 They  are  bound  up  in  a  world  of  their  own,  narrowed  and  becoming  nar- 
 
IRVING  ISM.  601 
 
 rower,  when  around  them  reh'gious  hope  is  burning  brighter  and  wider,  and 
 rehgious  faith  is  becoming  sounder  and  more  inspiring.^ 
 
 Yet  in  some  respects  their  tendencies  have  been  just  and  good.  Why 
 do  they  not  see  that  if  they  would  follow  them  out  to  their  lawful  end,  in- 
 stead of  cutting  them  short  amidst  narrow  bounds,  they  would  flock  into 
 the  great  Catholic  Church,  and  strengthen  that  Branch  of  it  which  in  their 
 days  has  advanced  so  much  in  England,  and  has  signs  of  so  bright  a  pro- 
 spect before  her, — in  times  gone  by  the  pattern  of  Unity  to  the  State,  at 
 the  present  the  example  of  Unity  to  Greater  Britain,  tlic  Church  of  the 
 land  with  her  widening  sympathies,  and  her  communion  even  overlapping 
 the  Empire? 
 
 '  For  more  information  on  all  jioints,  see  my  History  and  Doctrines  of  Irvingisni,  2 
 vols.,  Kegan  Paul  &  Co.,  and  some  Articles  in  the  Chiirth  Times  in  January  and  Feb- 
 ruary, 1888,  and  some  Articles  in  the  Cliurcli's  Broken  History  by  Dr.  Pusey,  and  the 
 Rev.  W.  J.  E.  Bennett. 
 
THE    UNITARIANS. 
 Bv  Henrv  W.  Crosskev,  LL.l).,  F.G.S. 
 
 {Minister  of  the  Church  of  the  Messiah,  Birnmighaiii :  President  of  the 
 British  and  Foreign  Unitarian  Association,  1891.) 
 
 It  is  my  privilege  to  speak  on  behalf  of  a  body  of  men  upon  whom  it  can- 
 not be  said  that  a  very  favourable  judgment  has  been  passed,  either  by  the 
 Churches  of  Christendom,  or  by  the  world  at  large. 
 
 By  a  large  number  of  Christian  Theologians,  for  many  a  long  year,  Uni- 
 tarians have  been  condemned  to  "  eternal  perdition,"  i.e.  (if  the  religious 
 men  who  use  such  words  realize  their  meaning)  to  share  the  very  worst 
 fate  to  which  the  most  degraded  of  our  race — scoundrels  and  liars,  thieves 
 and  murderers — could  by  any  possibility  be  doomed.  A\'hen  we  have 
 remonstrated,  we  have  been  met  with  a  curt,  sharp,  decisive  syllogism,  de- 
 rived from  a  verse  in  the  Gospel  of  Mark:  "He  that  l)elieveth  and  is 
 baptized  shall  be  saved ;  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned."  "Vou 
 do  not  believe.  Those  who  do  not  believe  cannot  be  saved  ;  your  souls 
 must  therefore  be  numbered  among  those  that  are  'lost.'  " 
 
 This  conclusion,  wc  have  been  told,  to  our  mingled  amusement  and 
 amazement,  is  clearly  deducible  from  '■'•the  word  of  God^'  ;  and  its  accept- 
 ance cannot  be  regarded  as  any  sign  of  want  of  charity  in  man  ! 
 
 The  shadow  of  this  stern  condemnation  falls  darkly  over  us  throughout 
 the  whole  confines  of  what  is  called  technically  "the  religious  world  "—the 
 world  of  divided  and  battling  sects — a  world  which,  in  my  judgment,  often 
 proves  itself  less  generous-hearted  than  the  world  of  poets  and  artists,  men 
 of  science  and  novelists,  philosophers  and  statesmen.  In  this  "  religious 
 world"  the  Unitarians  are  very  generally  regarded  with  suspicion  and 
 distrust. 
 
 Among  Christian  sects  we  are  the  dangerous  people.  Religious  com- 
 munion with  us  is  interdicted.  Through  the  length  and  breadth  of 
 England  there  is  scarcely  a  church  or  chapel — save  it  belong  to  the  small 
 group  known  as  "  Free  Christian  "  or  "  Unitarian  " — in  which  an  avowed 
 Unitarian  would  be  permitted  to  preach,  although  he  himself  would  will- 
 ingly exchange  pulpits  with  the  most  orthodo.x  of  orthodox  believers. 
 Books,  bearing  on  their  title-page  the  name  of  the  "  Unitarian  Association," 
 are  practically  placed  on  an  inde\  e.xpiirgatorius  :  and  devices  have  to  be 
 employed  to  obtain  a  general  circulation  for  them. 
 
 Men  will  sometimes  come  and  listen  to  us  in  public  halls,  who  will  not 
 
 602 
 
THE    UNITARIANS.  603 
 
 enter  our  chun  lies — fearfully  imagining,  I  suppose,  that  the  germs  of  our 
 pestilential  heresies  fill  the  air  they  would  breathe  in  them,  and  haunt  the 
 cushions  on  which  they  would  sit,  so  that  they  might  "catch"  Uaitarianism, 
 like  small-pox  or  scarlet  fever. 
 
 The  Education  Act,  which  excludes  from  Board  Schools  the  teaching  of 
 creeds  and  catechisms  "  distinctive  of  any  particular  denomination,"  is  so 
 interpreted  by  the  majority  of  English  School  Boards  as  to  mean  that 
 Unitarians  are  not  a  denomination  entitled  to  any  particular  respect ;  and 
 in  schools  supported  by  the  rates,  to  which  Unitarians  as  well  as  Trini- 
 tarians, Jews  as  well  as  Christians,  may  be  compelled  to  send  their 
 children,  the  doctrines  of  Biblical  Infallibility,  the  Fall  of  Man,  the 
 Atonement  and  the  Trinity,  are  very  commonly  taught  ;  and  scholars 
 sing  hymns  of  glory  to  the  "  Bleeding  Lamb  "  and  the  "  Crucified  ''  God  1 
 
 l'",ven  when  men  throw  off  the  popular  creeds,  and  announce  opinions 
 which  arc  as  much  entitled  to  be  called  *•  Unitarian  '  as  a  rose  is  to  be 
 called  a  rose — they  will  repudiate  that  name  with  indignation,  as  though 
 it  were  shameful ;  and  denounce  us  as  narrow  bigots  should  we  venture 
 to  apply  it  to  them. 
 
 ( )utside  the  ranks  of  the  professed  adherents  of  distinctive  Churches  a 
 curious  aversion  to  the  Unitarians  may  sometimes  be  noted,  ^\'e  have, 
 e.g..,  fallen  under  the  lash  of  that  great  prophet  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
 Thomas  Carlyle.  He  meets  a  Unitarian  minister,  and  admires  him — 
 "  One  of  the  sturdiest  little  fellows  I  have  come  across  for  many  a  day. 
 A  face  like  a  rock ;  a  voice  like  a  howitzer ;  only  his  honest,  kind  grey 
 eyes  reassure  you  a  little  "  :  and  after  asking  with  amazement,  in  the  spirit 
 of  the  famous  old  question,  "Can  any  good  come  out  of  Nazareth.''" — 
 "That  hardy  little  fellow,  what  has  he  to  do  with  the  dustJiole  of  extinct 
 Sociinanisin  ? "  Carlyle  describes  the  Unitarians  in  no  complimentary 
 terms  :  "  These  people  and  their  affairs,"  he  writes,  "  seem  all  melting 
 rapidly  enough  into  thaw  slush,  or  one  knows  not  what.  Considerable 
 madness  is  visible  in  them.  ^  Stare  super  antiqnas  vias  !  No;  they  say 
 we  cannot  stand,  or  walk,  or  do  any  good  whatever  there  ;  by  God's  bless- 
 ing we  will  fly — will  not  you  ?  Here  goes  ! '  And  their  flight  ! — it  is  as 
 the  flight  of  the  ////winged  ;  of  oxen  endeavouring  to  fly  with  the  wings  of 
 an  ox." 
 
 WJiy  do  I  speak  of  these  things  ?  As  an  appeal  ad  niisericordiam  ?  God 
 forbid  that  I  should  speak  of  my  Religion  with  bated  breath  and  whispered 
 humbleness  ! 
 
 A  man  has  no  firm  faith  in  his  religion,  no  solemn  confidence  that  its 
 Temple  is  upbuilt  upon  the  Rock  of  Ages,  when  he  can  apologize  for  it. 
 
 I  have  noted  the  adverse  judgments  passed  upon  the  faith  I  hold, 
 because  I  believe  that  the  unpopularity  of  a  cause  is  a  divine  challenge 
 for  its  careful  study.  The  stone  "rejected  by  the  builders"  is  the  very 
 stone  to  be  considerately  and  conscientiously  examined,  to  see  if  it  may 
 not  be  fitted  "  to  become  the  head  stone  of  the  corner."     Discarded  prin- 
 
6o4  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 ciples  of  thought  and  conduct  make  majestic  demands  of  their  own  upon 
 the  hearts  and  souls  of  men,  in  the  great  might  of  the  excessive  wrong  that 
 may  perchance  have  been  done  unto  them.  Not  once  or  twice  only,  to 
 find  the  world's  heroes  its  prisons  have  had  to  be  searched ;  not  once  or 
 twice  only  has  truth  been  found  in  those  intellectual  dungeons,  heavily 
 barred  with  iron  prejudices,  into  which  scorned  heresies  have  been 
 ])itilessly  thrust. 
 
 In  this  world's  history,  its  ''  foolish  things "'  have  so  often  been  chosen 
 to  "  confound  the  wise  " ;  and  its  "  base  things  "  and  "  things  which  are 
 despised  "  have  so  often  brought  "  to  nought  things  that  are,"  that  the 
 condemnation  of  any  principle  by  the  numerical  majority  of  any  generation 
 is  like  the  sound  of  silver  trumpets  heralding  the  presence  of  a  Power,  on 
 behalf  of  which  it  may  fairly  be  pleaded  that  there  is  at  least  sufficient 
 chance  of  its  possessing  truthful  authority  to  justify  the  lover  of  righteous- 
 ness in  entering  upon  a  calm  and  thorough  study  of  its  claims. 
 
 In  this  spirit,  although  condemned  as  a  heretic  by  every  one  of  the  great 
 Churches,  whose  thoughtful  and  devout  representatives  have  stood  before 
 you,  I  ask  your  kindly  and  generous  consideration  for  the  religion  com- 
 monly known  in  this  country  as  the  religion  of  the  Unitarians. 
 
 One  further  word  I  am  bound  to  say  by  way  of  prelude.  Every  Uni- 
 tarian speaks  for  himself  and  for  himself  alone.  I  am  the  mouthpiece  of  no 
 organization  ;  I  cannot  be  "  brought  to  book  "  by  any  authority  on  earth 
 for  any  word  I  utter,  however  wild  and  foolish  it  may  be.  I  am  no  more 
 amenable  to  a  "  Unitarian  Association  '  than  I  am  to  a  presbytery  or  a 
 general  assembly,  a  lord  bishop  or  a  court  of  arches,  a  general  council  of 
 Christendom  or  a  pope. 
 
 Although  born  and  bred,  trained  and  educated  among  Unitarians,  and  a 
 minister  in  the  churches  they  frequent  during  my  whole  period  of  active 
 life,  I  have  never  signed  with  my  hand,  or  professed  with  my  lips,  a  dog- 
 matic "  Unitarian  Creed."  The  principles  of  my  Unitarianism  forbid  me 
 — for  reasons  which  will  presently  a])pear — to  sign  a  '"  Unitarian  Creed  " 
 as  peremptorily  as  they  would  forliid  me  to  subscribe  to  the  "  Westminster 
 Confession  of  Faith,"  or  the  "Thirty-nine  Articles,"  even  should  I  per- 
 sonally believe  every  doctrine  those  documents  enunciate.  In  this  I  do 
 not  stand  by  myself;  ?io  Unitarian  can  speak  authoritatively  for  any  other 
 Unitarian.  The  Unitarians  are  not  like  an  organized  regiment  of  soldiers, 
 keeping  step  with  each  other  in  the  ranks,  and  promptly  obedient  to  their 
 commanding  officers ;  they  are  simply  and  solely  a  band  of  independent 
 men,  who  are  bound  together,  as  friends  are  linked  to  friends,  by  certain 
 inroad  and  deep,  although  unwritten  and  unenforced,  sympathies,  ends,  and 
 aims. 
 
 All,  therefore,  I  can  do  is  to  present  statements  for  which  I  alone  am 
 responsible.  .Since,  however,  I  have  hold  from  cliildhood  to  manhood 
 continuous  and  intimate  religious  fellowship  with  those  who  are  commonly 
 called  "  Unitarians,"  this  much  may  be  fairly  concluded,  viz.,  that  a  man 
 
THE    UXITARIANS.  605 
 
 holding  such  convictions  as  are  mine  has  his  place  openly  acknowledged 
 among  them,  and  may  find  a  spiritual  home  within  the  churches  in  whicli 
 they  worship. 
 
 To  this  exte?it — but  simply  and  solely  to  this  extent — without  any  egotistical 
 assumption,  I  may  claim  to  he  their  representative.  Should  any  Unitarian 
 question  what  I  say  and  declare  that  my  thoughts  are  not  his  thoughts,  I 
 reply,  "  I  worship  where  you  worship,  and  no  man  has  forbidden  or  can 
 forbid  me." 
 
 At  the  outset,  there  is  one  striking  characteristic  of  the  Unitarians  that 
 must  be  made  especially  clear  and  firmly  emphasized,  or  our  whole  position 
 will  be  misunderstood. 
 
 The  body  of  men  called  "  Unitarians  "  hold  that  no  series  of  dogmatic 
 articles  of  faith,  no  "creed,"  ought  to  be  imposed  upon  the  ministers  or 
 members  of  a  "  church  "  as  a  condition  of  religious  fellowship ;  in  other 
 words,  that  a  church  ought  to  be  kept  as  freely  open  for  the  pursuit  of 
 religious  truth  as  a  college  is  for  the  advancement  of  learning. 
 
 The  name  "  Unitarian"  is  applied  to  men  who  hold,  as  individuals,  cer- 
 tain opinions  ;  but  it  does  not  adequately  describe  the  constitution  of  the 
 churches  in  which  they  worshijx  Our  churches,  with  very  few  exceptions, 
 Jiave  free  afid  open  trusts;  they  are  dedicated,  i.e.,  to  religious  purposes, 
 but  no  special  form  of  theological  opinion  is  made  legally  binding  upon 
 their  ministers  or  members. 
 
 Personally,  I  happen  to  be  a  Unitarian  ;  but  I  am  the  minister  of  a 
 ''  church  "  in  which  no  subscription  to  any  specific  articles  of  theological 
 belief  is  either  required  from  the  congregation  or  involved  in  my  own  posi- 
 tion. The  ministers  who  preceded  me  held  many  opinions  which  are  not 
 mine  ;  they  frankly  and  freely  taught  them.  The  ministers  who  will  follow 
 me  will,  without  doubt,  not  teach  altogether  as  I  teach  ;  and  no  legal  re- 
 strictions will  close  their  lips.  The  living  men  and  women  of  each  day  and 
 generation  are  at  absolute  liberty  to  worship  God  according  to  their  con- 
 sciences, without  being  compelled  by  any  Trust  Deed  to  forsake  the 
 churches  their  fathers  built. 
 
 The  term  "  Unitarian  Church  "'  somewhat  hides  from  the  light  of  day 
 this  great  fact.  In  the  irony  of  fate,  a  body  of  men  who  place  less  stress 
 upon  dogma  than  any  other  body  of  men  in  the  world,  have  yet  been 
 christened  with  a  dogmatic  name.  Strictly  speaking,  what  is  popularly 
 known  as  a  "  Unitarian  Church  "  is  a  church  in  which  "  Unitarians  "  can 
 and  do  meet  for  worship,  I)ut  in  which  no  legal  obligations  e.xist  to  check 
 or  forbid  the  free  pur.suit  of  truth.     Our  history  illustrates  our  principle. 
 
 The  Act  of  Uniformity  (1662)  rendered  it  imperative  upon  every  clerg)- 
 man  to  declare  his  unfeigned  assent  and  consent  to  all  and  everything 
 contained  and  prescribed  in  and  by  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer ;  inca- 
 pacitated every  person  from  holding  a  benefice  or  administering  the  Lord's 
 Supper  who  had  not  previously  received  episcopal  ordination  :  and  pro- 
 hibited any  one  from  preaching  or  conducting  public  worship  unless  he 
 
6o6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 did  it  according  to  the  rites  of  the  Church  of  England.  Two  thousand 
 ministers  flung  up  their  benefices  and  went  out  into  tlie  wilderness  ot 
 poverty,  and  endured  patiently  public  scorn,  rather  than  live  in  ease  as 
 slaves.  Commanded  not  to  preach,  they  preached.  Churches  were  built 
 for  them  by  their  immediate  followers,  and  the  law  was  most  justly,  most 
 nobly,  and  most  gloriously  defied  ;  not  without  pains  and  penalties,  im- 
 prisonment and  bonds. 
 
 The  life  of  those  churches  these  brave  men  refused  to  shackle  with  the 
 chains  of  any  creed.  Sufferers  for  conscience'  sake,  they  resolved  that  their 
 children  and  their  children's  children  should  be  free.  Devoutly  orthodox  in 
 creed  themselves,  they  yet  entrusted  the  charge  of  that  they  deemed  the 
 truth  of  God  to  the  unfettered  mind  of  man. 
 
 These  men  were  our  fathers  ;  in  the  churches  they  and  their  friends  and 
 followers  built,  we  worship.  Gradually,  generation  by  generation,  the  free- 
 dom they  bequeathed  was  exercised  ;  under  its  high  warrant  other  opinions 
 than  theirs  found  a  rightful  home  in  their  Houses  of  Prayer — Trinitarian- 
 ism  passed  into  Arianism,  and  Arianism  into  Unitarianism.  Discussion 
 undoubtedly  attended  these  changes  of  thought ;  but  on  the  whole  they 
 were  effected  with  wonderful  forbearance  and  kindliness  ;  and  when  it 
 appeared  that  it  was  possible  to  raise  actions  in  the  law  courts  for  the  pur- 
 pose of  depriving  those  holding  Unitarian  opinions  of  the  property  inherited 
 from  their  fathers,  an  Act  of  Parliament  was  promptly  passed  to  prevent 
 what  it  was  acknowledged  by  statesmen  of  all  parties — by  Sir  R.  Peel  and 
 by  Lord  Macaulay — would  be  a  grave  injustice. 
 
 It  is  not  for  us — the  living  men  of  to-day — to  say  to  the  great  tidal  waves 
 of  human  thought,  "Thus  far  shall  ye  come  and  no  farther.''  If  t?///- chil- 
 dren can  find  a  better  religion,  the  temples  in  which  their  fathers  worship 
 to-day  shall  still  be  theirs. 
 
 As  our  Trust  Deeds  are  free,  so  is  membership  of  our  churches.  If 
 any  living  soul  find  in  our  services  aught  to  strengthen  him  against  temp- 
 tation— to  uplift  his  aspirations,  to  fill  him  with  noble  ardour  to  serve  his 
 fellow-men — he  is  welcome.  He  is  put  through  no  theological  examina- 
 tion either  of  a  heretical  or  orthodox  type ;  be  he  saint  or  sinner,  we  dare 
 not  shut  in  his  face  the  doors  of  the  temple  of  our  God  !  I  am  not  un- 
 frequently  asked  how  we  manage  to  prevent  those  with  whom  we  may  have 
 no  sympathy  from  coming  and  taking  possession  of  our  churches.  Simply 
 by  not  attempting  to  "  manage  "  the  matter  at  all ;  by  excluding  no  one, 
 we  fling  ourselves  upon  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  men,  in  confidence 
 that  the  more  thoroughly  human  hearts  and  consciences  arc  trusted,  the 
 more  completely  will  trust  be  justified. 
 
 As  with  our  Trust  Deeds  and  our  church  membership,  so  it  is  with  our 
 ministry.  The  college  in  which  a  large  proportion  of  our  students  are 
 educated  has  for  its  motto  these  words  :  "  The  College  adheres  to  its 
 original  principle  of  freely  imjjarting  Theological  knowledge,  without 
 msisting  on  the  adoption  of  particular  Theological  doctrines." 
 
THE    UNITARIANS.  607 
 
 As  for  our  ministers,  lengthened  experience  gives  mc  some  slight  right 
 to  speak.  Thank  God  !  this  hand  has  never  been  compelled  to  sign  itself 
 a  "  slave  !  "  From  the  first  day  on  which  I  entered  a  pulpit  until  now  I 
 have  remained  as  personally  unpledged  in  teaching  religion  as  any  professor 
 in  a  college  chair  of  Art,  Literature,  or  Science.  Thank  God  !  I  am 
 minister  of  a  church  which  declines  to  close  its  doors  with  the  bolts  and 
 bars  of  theological  articles  upon  any  child  of  God  who  chooses  to  come 
 and  worship  therein  !  Neither  have  we  established  a  central  organization 
 with  authority  to  interfere  with  the  independent  action  of  any  church. 
 The  "  British  and  Foreign  Unitarian  Association  "  is  simply  an  association 
 of  individuals  interested  in  its  purposes  ;  and  it  has  neither  power,  nor  do 
 its  managers  show  any  inclination,  to  control  the  affairs  of  our  congrega- 
 tions. 
 
 The  spiritual  freedom  of  every  assembly  of  men,  gathered  for  the  worship 
 of  Almighty  God — this  is  our  first  principle.  The  grounds  upon  which 
 this  principle  is  defended  are  not  far  to  seek.  We  cannot  presume  to  think 
 that  we  possess  the  whole  truth  and  nothing  but  the  truth  ;  and  dare  not, 
 therefore,  dictate  a  creed  either  to  our  comrades  in  the  pilgrimage  of  life, 
 or  to  our  posterity.  Were  we  to  draw  up  for  an  astronomer  XXXIX.  or 
 CCCXXXIX.  Articles  of  Astronomical  Faith,  and  ask  him  to  sign  them, 
 and  to  promise  to  teach  those  articles  only,  and  to  admit  to  his  class  only 
 those  students  who  would  accept  them  \  would  not  his  reply  be  an  indig- 
 nant refusal  ?  Would  he  not  exclaim,  "  Who  am  I  that  I  should  declare 
 no  wonderful  discovery  can  be  made?  \Vhat  is  man  that  he  can  dream 
 that  he  has  jirobed  the  infinite  depths  of  the  awful  heaven,  clad  with  the 
 loveliness  of  a  thousand  stars  ?  "  Would  not  a  teacher  of  Chemistry,  of 
 Physics,  or  of  Philosophy,  give  the  same  refusal  to  any  kindred  demand  ? 
 Yet  it  would,  I  submit,  be  far  more  rational  to  say  we  know  everything  that 
 can  be  known,  or  at  least  all  that  is  necessary  to  know  regarding  Astro- 
 nomy, Chemistry,  Physics,  or  Philosophy — to  frame  a  settled  and  change- 
 less creed  upon  these  subjects  ;  and  to  insist  that  there  shall  be  no 
 professor  and  no  student  at  our  colleges  who  will  not  sign  it,  than  it  is  to 
 say,  "  We  have  drawn  up  articles  of  faith  about  Christ  and  the  Eternal 
 God ;  and  none  shall  be  our  ministers,  and  none  shall  have  fellowship  with 
 us,  as  members  of  our  churches,  who  will  not  subscribe  to  them  ! " 
 
 No  creed  within  the  scope  of  the  wit  of  man  to  devise  can  permanently 
 secure  uniformity  of  belief.  Human  w'ords  are  susceptible  of  a  hundred 
 meanings — even  when  employed  by  acutest  lawyers  in  Acts  of  Parliament 
 — still  more  completely  do  they  fail  to  convey  one  distinct  thought  and 
 one  distinct  thought  only,  when  used  for  the  purpose  of  defining  the  in- 
 finite truth  of  God.  A  coach-and-four  may  be  driven  through  an  Act  of 
 Parliament ;  but  a  little  child  can  ask  a  question  which  will  bring  to  con- 
 fusion the  meaning  of  the  strictest  creed. 
 
 We  trust  the  truth  of  God ;  surely  whatsoever  be   His  truth.  He  will 
 protect.     Were  we  to  build  a  glass  roof  over  an  oak  tree,  and  carefully 
 
6o8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 guard  it  from  the  weather,  and,  fearful  lest  it  .should  fall,  prop  it  up  with 
 stone  buttresses,  we  should  kill  it  for  our  pains.  Exposure  to  the  air  and 
 the  storm  strengthens  it ;  its  leaves  arc  greener  as  they  drink  in  freely  the 
 breath  of  heaven  ;  its  mighty  trunk  stands  more  firmly  when  kind  nature 
 is  relied  upon  for  its  sustenance  and  support.  "  Whatsoever  is  of  the 
 truth  "  needs  likewise  no  artificial  protection  ;  its  roots  strike  deep  down 
 into  the  heart  of  man,  and  all  the  powers  of  heaven  and  earth  are  pledged 
 to  its  protection.  The  union  established  by  natural  sympathies  is,  we  be- 
 lieve, stronger,  more  enduring,  and  sweeter  than  that  achieved  by  the 
 enforcement  of  an  agreement  to  one  creed. 
 
 Worshipping  together,  certain  convictions  (of  which  I  have  immediately 
 to  speak)  have  grown  up  amongst  us  ;  but  because  we  absolutely  trust  the 
 truth,  and  are  persuaded  tliat  "  the  Lord  has  more  truth  yet  to  break  forth 
 out  of  His  Holy  Word,"  we  refuse  to  convert  them  into  fetters  by  formu- 
 lating them  into  creeds. 
 
 I  do  not  for  one  moment  venture  to  say  that  the  Unitarians  have  always 
 been  faithful  in  their  allegiance  to  the  great  principle  I  am  stating  and  de- 
 fending :  but  I  maintain  that  a  few  passing  inconsistencies  cannot  shake  the 
 fact  that  the  love  of  Religious  Liberty  underlies  their  whole  history,  and  that 
 in  this  day  and  generation  it  is  so  intensely  cherished  that  it  would  be  as 
 possible  for  the  uplifted  arm  of  man  to  turn  back  the  sun  in  the  sky,  as  for 
 any  section  amongst  them  to  secure  the  establishment  of  even  the  shadow 
 of  a  dogmatic  creed  for  the  churches  in  which  they  worship. 
 
 All  Unitarians  certainly  regard  and  respect  the  churches  they  frequent  as 
 places  of  worship.  To  do  otherwise  would  be  as  great  a  perversion  as  to 
 employ  a  Literary  Society,  or  a  Scientific  College,  for  theological  purposes. 
 A  church  is  a  religious  institution,  and  the  freedom  of  a  church  is  neces- 
 sarily freedom  within  the  limits  of  religious  thought. 
 
 As  the  natural  and  inevitable  result  of  their  freedom,  broad  and  striking 
 differences  of  opinion  exist  among  the  Unitarians,  differences  indeed  which 
 would  scarcely  be  tolerated  ;  or,  if  silently  tolerated,  would  receive  no 
 jiublic  and  avowed  sanction,  among  any  other  body  of  men  in  this  coun- 
 try united  for  religious  purposes. 
 
 For  example  :  Some  Unitarians  believe  that  Jesus  Christ  wrought  mira- 
 cles ;  others  reject  as  legendary  those  parts  of  the  Bible  which  record  such 
 "  wonderful  works,"  and  yet  claim  to  be  "  Christians  "  ;  some  pray  to  their 
 God  "  through  Christ "  ;  others  humbly  seek  direct  access  to  the  spirit  of 
 their  Heavenly  Father,  and  in  the  most  solemn  moments  of  their  lives 
 would  be  "  alone  with  the  Alone  ;  some  call  themselves  "  Christian  Theists," 
 or  simply  "Theists  ;  "  others  cherish  a  firm  faith  that  a  special  and  peculiar 
 revelation  of  the  will  of  God  was  made  through  an  accredited  and  super- 
 naturally  endowed  "  Messiah." 
 
 liut  no  ecclesiastical  machinery  exists  among  L^nitarians,  by  means  of 
 which  any  man  can  be  e.vcluded  from  church  membership  because  his  in- 
 tellectual convictions  differ  from  those  held  by  his  fellow-worshippers. 
 
THE   UNITARIANS.  609 
 
 In  spite,  however,  of  widely  prevailing  divergences  of  thought,  certain 
 distinctive  and  fundamental  religious  principles  have  won  acceptance,  or,  at 
 leastj  have  found  a  refuge  and  a  home  among  the  worshippers  in  the  Free 
 Churches  of  England,  principles  to  which  the  name  "  Unitarian  "  is  in  com- 
 mon speech  applied,  ^\'hat  these  are  I  will  attempt  briefly  and  clearly  to 
 describe ;  but  it  is  necessary  to  premise  that  the  Unitarians  are  character- 
 ized by  the  method  they  employ  to  gain  religious  truth  more  emphatically  than 
 by  any  system  of  doctrines  ivhatever.  To  discover  religious  truth  they  turn 
 to  Science  and  Humanity. 
 
 In  the  fixed  and  determined  laws  in  changeless  action  among  sun,  moon, 
 and  stars ;  within  our  own  minds  and  hearts  and  consciences,  and  in  the 
 conditions  imposed  upon  their  growth  ;  in  the  course  of  history,  in  which 
 events  arc  overruled  for  the  accomplishment  of  purposes  unintended  and 
 unimagined  by  the  actors  in  its  dramas,  we  meet  the  will  which  is  not  our 
 will,  the  authority  which  is  not  our  authority,  and  have  revealed  to  us  what 
 is  the  pleasure  and  the  determination,  and  to  that  extent  what  is  the 
 character  of  the  Supreme  Power  of  powers.  Man's  decrees  have  not  deter- 
 mined the  methods  by  which  this  earth,  the  worlds  around,  and  his  own 
 race  have  come  into  existence,  or  established  the  laws  in  accordance  with 
 which  they  are  actually  governed.  P>ery  scientific  fact  must  therefore  be 
 accepted  implicitly  as  a  Divine  truth,  and  conversely  any  "  creed  concern- 
 ing God  which  contradicts  a  single  scientific  fact  must  necessarily  be 
 untrue. 
 
 The  unfailing  constancy  of  natural  laws,  with  the  resulting  harmony  of 
 the  worlds,  is  more  wonderful  than  the  most  wonderful  of  miracles  ever 
 recorded.  It  is  more  than  amazing  to  note  that  an  established  law  never 
 fails.  North  and  south  and  east  and  west ;  at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean  ; 
 in  the  depths  of  the  sky  ;  in  the  unfrequented  desert ;  in  the  recesses  of 
 pathless  woods  ;  among  weeds  and  flowers  ;  in  the  pool  of  water  which  is 
 as  a  universe  to  myriads  of  unseen  creatures — no  spot  can  be  found  in 
 which  the  laws  of  nature,  which  are  to  us  the  laws  of  God,  lose  their  hold 
 or  fail  in  their  persistency.  More  wondrous  still  is  the  law  of  duty  to  which 
 a  good  man  subjects  all  appetites,  desires,  tempers,  and  inclinations. 
 
 When  in  the  character  of  a  man  conscience  and  affection  are  at  one,  the 
 warm  heart  yielding  its  love  to  no  object  the  conscience  does  not  approve  ; 
 when  personal  purity  is  united  to  mercifulness,  sin  being  hated  while  all 
 the  influences  of  bad  education,  sordid  surroundings,  inherited  tendencies 
 receive  due  allowance  in  passing  judgment  upon  the  sinner;  when  enthu- 
 siasm, bright,  hopeful,  keen  and  eager,  is  wedded  to  farseeing  and  calculat- 
 ing wisdom ;  when  unyielding  courage,  the  courage  of  the  man  who  can 
 sail  on  any  sea  and  land  on  any  shore,  fearless  of  any  known  or  unknown 
 foe,  is  tempered  by  the  gentleness  far  readier  to  suffer  than  inflict  pain ; 
 when  resolute  and  determined  endeavour  to  win  from  this  earth  and  this 
 life  their  choicest  gifts,  is  blended  with  enduring  patience  ;  when  the  love 
 of  God  and  the  love  of  man  are  as  one  emotion,  inextricably  intertwined, 
 
 VOL.  I. — pt.  2.  s  s 
 
6io  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 so  that  no  service  is  ofifered  to  the  Lord  in  heaven,  which  is  not  also  a 
 service  to  man  on  earth — there  is  a  harmony  of  character  subhmer  far  than 
 the  ordered  harmony  of  this  outward  universe — the  music  of  the  spheres. 
 The  awful  Power  of  powers,  men  reverently  name  God,  cannot — it  is  our 
 conviction — be  less  worthy  than  the  noblest  man.  As  Thomas  Carlyle 
 writes:  "All  that  is  good,  generous,  wise,  right,  whatever  I  deliberately 
 and  for  ever  love  in  others  and  myself,  who  or  what  could  by  any  possi- 
 bility have  given  it  to  me,  but  07ic  who  first  had  it  to  give.  This  is  not 
 logic,  it  is  axiom.  Logic  to  and  fro  beats  against  this,  like  an  idle  wind 
 on  an  adamantine  rock." 
 
 We  worship  the  God  of  Zz/f— not  an  almighty  theologian,  chiefly  interested 
 in  "  Articles  of  Faith  "  and  calling  men  to  heaven  or  dooming  them  to  hell 
 according  to  the  correctness  or  incorrectness  of  their  opinions  touching 
 His   Infinite  Being.     The  Lord  God  Almighty  is  the  Creator  of  the  Man 
 of  Science,   the   Philosopher,  the  Historian,  the  Wit  and  Humorist,  the 
 Novelist,  the  Dramatist,  the  Poet,  and  the  Artist.     The  God  and  Father 
 of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Joseph,  is  also  the  God  and  Father  of  Shakespeare 
 and  Galileo,  Milton  and  Wordsworth,  Michael  Angelo  and  Beethoven.     In 
 a  great  library  we  stand  in  a  temple  of  God,  sublimer  than  is  the  temple  of 
 which  the  earth  is  the  pavement  and  the  star-clad  sky  the  over-arching  roof. 
 To  gain  religious  truth  from  nature  and  humanity,  the  Unitarians  maintain 
 that  they  must  use  and  trust  the  natural  faculties  they  possess.    They  assert 
 the  right  of  the  human  intellect  to  reject  what  is  unreasonable ;  the  right  of  the 
 human  heart  to  reject  what  is  unlovable  ;  the  right  of  the  human  conscience 
 to  reject  what  it  condemns  as  evil,  in  any  and  every  "creed"  presented 
 for  their  acceptance.     A  man  who  cultivates  his  rational  powers  and  uses 
 them  faithfully — although  he  may  form  mistaken  conclusions,  does  all  that 
 his  Maker  can  expect  from  him  with  respect  to  his  creed,  inasmuch  as  he 
 does  his  best  with  the  faculties  bestowed  upon  him.     It  would  be  utterly 
 unjust  in  a  Supreme  God,  to  enable  us  to  think — and  then  because  we  t/iiiik 
 to  condemn  us.     We  have  affections  which  bind  us  together  by  the  sweet- 
 est and  tenderest  ties  and  render  us  capable  of  sacrificing  all  earthly  trea- 
 sures for  love's  dear  sake — when  any  creed,  therefore,  attributes  cruelty  to 
 the  Creator  of  the  heart  of  man,  we  cannot  receive  it.     "  Or  what  man  is 
 there  of  you  " —  asks  Jesus  Christ—"  whom  if  his  son  ask  bread,  will  he 
 give  him  a   stone  ?      Or  if  he  ask  a  fish,  will  he  give  him  a  serpent  ?     If 
 ye  then,  being  evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your  children,  how 
 much  more  shall  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  give  good  things  to  them 
 that  ask  Him  }  "    This  principle  makes  short  work  of  many  a  fierce  dogma. 
 Would  a  father  torment  a  child  for  ever  ?     Impossible,  must  be  the  reply. 
 Then  we  conclude  at  once  that  the  doctrine  of   Fternal  Punishment  must 
 be  false.     By  our  consciences  we  mark  the  distinction  between  good  and 
 evil.     It  is  true  that  what  one  man  esteems  good  another  may  pronounce 
 evil,  just  as  what  is  a  rational   conclusion  to  one  man   may  be  a  perverse 
 superstition  to  another.     What  we  believe  every  one  is  bound  to  do  is — to 
 
THE    UNITARIANS.  6ii 
 
 obey  his  own  conscience,  and  not  to  attribute  to  his  God  any  actions  which 
 he  would  condemn  as  wicked  amoncr  men. 
 
 I  read  in  the  First  Book  of  Samuel  that  the  "  Lord  of  Hosts  "  spake 
 through  His  mouth  these  words  to  Saul  :  "  I  remember  that  which  Amalek 
 did  to  Israel,  how  he  laid  wait  for  him  in  the  way,  when  he  came  up  from 
 Egypt.  Now  go  and  smite  Amelek,  and  utterly  destroy  all  that  they  have, 
 and  spare  them  not ;  but  slay  both  man  and  woman,  infant  and  suckling, 
 ox  and  sheep,  camel  and  ass  " — and  that  He  was  angry  because  this  terrific 
 commandment  was  not  executed  to  the  last  drop  of  blood.  I  do  not  be- 
 lieve that  such  a  command  was  ever  issued  by  the  Lord  of  Hosts.  Why? 
 Because  my  conscience  declares  that  promiscuous  slaughter  in  war  is  a 
 great  wickedness.  Suppose  General  Moltke,  when  he  led  the  German 
 army  through  France,  had  ruthlessly  put  to  death  man,  woman,  and  child, 
 together  with  all  cattle  of  the  field — the  world  would  have  stood  aghast 
 with  horror.  I  dare  not  ascribe  to  the  God  of  humanity  a  deed  my  con- 
 science starts  from  with  horror,  as  infamous  among  men. 
 
 The  Unitarians  at  the  present  day,  with  possibly  a  few  individual  excep- 
 tions only,  apply  these  tests  to  all  the  books  of  the  Bible ;  and  ask  :  Are 
 their  teachings  reasonable  ?  are  they  humane  ?  do  they  accord  with  the 
 dictates  of  conscience? 
 
 Science,  with  no  uncertain  voice,  declares  that  the  world  was  not  made 
 in  six  days  ;  that  the  serpent  went  upon  the  ground  long  before  man's  ap- 
 pearance ;  that  death  came  into  the  world  before  a  sin  was  committed  ; 
 that  weeds  are  no  sign  of  a  ruined  soil ;  that  a  flood  of  waters  never  covered 
 all  the  earth  at  one  time  ;  that  madness  is  not  caused  by  the  entry  of 
 "  devils  "  into  the  soul.  Such  statements  as  these,  therefore,  are  not  be- 
 lieved, although  they  are  wTitten  in  the  pages  of  the  Bible.  Using  our 
 ordinary  sense  of  the  distinction  between  right  and  wrong,  we  find  in  the 
 Bible  more  than  one  code  of  morality.  In  its  earlier  books  polygamy  and 
 revenge  are  sanctioned  ;  while  "witchcraft"  and  the  doing  of  work  on  the 
 Sabbath  are  pronounced  to  be  crimes  worthy  of  death.  The  "  Sermon  on 
 the  ]\Iount"  sets  aside  what  "was  said  by  them  of  old  time"  with  no 
 uncertain  emphasis.  The  rough  and  barbarous  warrior's  code  of  duty, 
 which  guided  Joshua  in  his  relentless  wars,  does  not  correspond  with  the 
 teachings  of  the  great  Master  of  Nazareth,  the  spirit  of  whose  religion  finds 
 voice  in  the  angel-song  which  is  said  to  have  rung  through  the  sky  at  His 
 birth — "  On  earth  peace,  good  will  among  men." 
 
 The  desponding  scepticism  of  the  Book  of  Ecclesiastes — perhaps  the 
 most  thoroughly  sceptical  book  ever  written — does  not  harmonize  in  the 
 practical  duties  it  inculcates  either  with  the  majestic  prophecy  of  Isaiah  : 
 •"  As  the  earth  bringeth  forth  her  bud,  and  as  the  garden  causeth  the  things 
 that  are  sown  in  it  to  spring  forth,  so  the  Lord  God  will  cause  righteousness 
 and  praise  to  spring  forth  before  all  the  nations  ; "  or  with  the  wondrous  in- 
 junction to  toil  divinel}',  conveyed  in  the  words  "As  ye  go,  preach,  saying, 
 The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand.' 
 
6i2  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 We  feel  bound  therefore  to  use  our  best  judgments  in  order  that  wc  may 
 discriminate  between  the  antagonistic  views  of  life  and  duty  contained  in 
 the  Bible  itself. 
 
 I  can  hardly  express  the  fulness  of  my  thankfulness  that  my  religion  jus- 
 tifies this  application  of  rational  methods  to  the  study  of  the  Bible.  The 
 Book  of  Genesis  touches  me  infinitely  more  deeply  with  its  childlike  faith 
 — its  pastoral  beauty— its  patriarchal  simplicity — because  I  do  not  attempt 
 to  make  Moses  speak  the  language  of  Lyell  and  Darwin  ;  and  do  not  judge 
 Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob  by  the  standard  of  modern  civilization. 
 
 The  Psalms  have  infinitely  greater  power  to  make  me  lie  down  in  green 
 pastures  and  to  lead  me  beside  the  still  waters,  than  they  could  have,  did 
 I  feel  bound  to  regard  the  wild  curses  uttered  by  David  against  his  enemies 
 as  the  very  "  word  of  God  "'  Himself 
 
 The  Prophets  become  mightier  guides  when  I  study  them  as  men  of 
 Israel  and  Judah  striving  to  direct  the  politics  of  their  day  by  the  eternal 
 laws  of  righteousness,  than  they  could  possibly  be  to  me  were  I  to  regard 
 them  as  mere  predictors  of  the  fate  of  a  few  cities  and  the  results  of  a 
 few  wars. 
 
 The  Gospels  and  Epistles  are  the  richer  in  spiritual  influence  over  my 
 soul,  because  I  believe  that  it  is  more  certain  that  the  "  blessed  "  among 
 men  are  the  merciful,  the  peacemakers,  and  the  pure  in  heart,  than  it  is 
 that  Christ  turned  water  into  wine  ;  and  that  the  metaphysics  of  Paul  do 
 not  stand  so  far  above  criticism  as  those  sublime  words,  "  Though  I  have 
 the  gift  of  prophecy,  and  understand  all  mysteries,  and  all  knowledge  ; 
 and  though  I  have  all  faith,  so  that  I  could  remove  mountains,  and  have 
 not  charity,  I  am  nothing."  In  ceasing  to  be  regarded  as  infallible,  the 
 Bible  has  become  to  me  far  more  truly  a  Book  of  Life. 
 
 In  connection  with  this  search  for  religious  truth,  it  must  be  carefully 
 noted  that  a  Unitarian  separates  critical  questions,  of  which  the  cultured 
 intellect  alone  can  be  the  judge,  from  spiritual  sanctities  affecting  the 
 heart  and  the  conscience.  He  maintains  that  many  of  the  ordinary  sub- 
 jects of  theological  controversy  have  little  or  nothing  to  do  with  religion 
 at  all.  For  example,  to  a  Unitarian  such  as  I  am,  belief  in  a  miracle  is 
 not  a  religious  act.  It  dei)ends  simply  and  exclusively  upon  the  evidence 
 offered  to  prove  that  such  an  event  really  took  place,  evidence  which  re- 
 (juires  the  most  careful  scientific  examination,  and  with  which  we  have  no 
 right  to  mingle  our  faith  or  our  prayers.  A  man  having  to  decide  whether 
 on  a  particular  occasion  water  were  or  were  not  turned  into  wine,  would 
 indeed  fail  in  his  intellectual  duty  if  he  permitted  any  theory  concerning 
 a  "  Messiah,"  or  any  hope  of  heavenly  reward,  to  interfere  with  the  strict- 
 ness of  his  investigations  and  the  clearness  of  his  judgment.  I  am  neither 
 redeemed  from  sin  nor  guided  in  the  way  of  holiness  by  any  opinion  I 
 happen  to  hold  regarding  the  authorship  of  any  book  of  the  Bible.  My 
 heart  may  be  so  conquered  by  the  beauty  of  Christ's  holiness,  that  the  one 
 question   I   may   ask  touching  all  my  thoughts,  feelings,  and  actions   is, 
 
THE    UXITARIANS.  613 
 
 "■  Would  they  be  approved  by  Christ  ?  should  I  be  ashamed  to  stand  in 
 His  presence?"  And  yet  I  may  not  think  it  historically  proved  that  He 
 walked  u|)on  the  waves  or  arose  from  the  grave.  To  me,  as  a  Unitarian, 
 religion  is  solely  concerned  with  the  soul's  attitude  towards  God — its 
 hopes  and  aspirations,  its  penitence  for  sin,  its  struggles  towards  its  high 
 calling,  its  loving  trust,  its  desires  for  the  establishment  of  a  kingdom  of 
 righteousness. 
 
 Exercising  their  spiritual  freedom,  and  seeking  truth  by  the  method 
 now  indicated,  those  called  Unitarians  have  (as  I  have  previously  stated) 
 arrived  at  a  general  agreement  resi)ecting  a  few  great  religious  principles, 
 although,  so  far  from  employing  them  as  theological  tests  for  church 
 membership,  they  have  never  even  reduced  them  into  any  fixed  and  final 
 shaj^e  as  doctrinal  fonnuhc. 
 
 The  Unitarians  are  hclimers  in  one  God.  They  are  not  so  presumptuous 
 as  to  imagine  that  they  can  define  the  Infinite  ;  but  facts,  which  come 
 fairly  within  the  scope  of  human  knowledge,  appear  to  them  to  establish 
 the  existence  of  One  Spirit,  One  Power,  One  Life,  pervading,  sustaining, 
 guiding  all  that  is. 
 
 Every  form  of  energy  can  be  converted  into  some  other  form  of  energy. 
 Stars  are  linked  to  stars,  and  systems  of  worlds  to  systems  of  worlds  ; 
 while  the  elements  of  which  a  myriad  orbs  are  fashioned  are  the  same  as 
 those  to  be  found  in  the  earth  on  which  we  dwell.  Moving  bodies  on 
 earth  are  directed  by  the  same  forces  as  the  planets  in  their  courses. 
 The  physical  history  of  our  globe  cannot  be  studied  apart  from  problems 
 that  involve  the  history  of  every  star  in  the  sky.  As  completely  as  the 
 body  is  one,  although  it  has  many  members,  so  is  the  universe  one, 
 although  it  contains  millions  of  worlds.  Organism  is  connected  with 
 organism  ;  and  the  first  creature  crawling  on  the  shore  of  the  first  sea  is 
 related  by  secret  life-ties  to  the  insect  floating  in  this  morning's  sunbeam. 
 
 "Nature,"  writes  Humboldt,  "considered  rationally — that  is  to  say, 
 submitted  to  the  process  of  thought — is  a  unity  in  diversity  of  phenomena  ; 
 a  harmony,  blending  together  all  created  things,  however  dissimilar  in 
 form  and  attributes  ;  one  great  whole  animated  by  the  breath  of  life. 
 The  most  important  result  of  a  rational  inquiry  into  nature  is,  therefore, 
 to  establish  the  unity  and  harmony  of  this  stupendous  mass  of  force  and 
 matter,  to  determine  with  impartial  justice  what  is  due  to  the  discoveries 
 of  the  past  and  to  those  of  the  present,  and  to  analyze  the  individual  parts 
 of  natural  phenomena,  without  succumbing  beneath  the  weight  of  the 
 whole.  Thus  and  thus  alone  is  it  permitted  to  man,  while  mindful  of  the 
 high  destiny  of  his  race,  to  comprehend  nature,  to  lift  the  veil  that  shrouds 
 her  phenoniena,  and,  as  it  were,  submit  the  results  of  observation  to  the 
 test  of  reason  and  intellect." 
 
 Throughout  the  ages  one  moral  law  has  persistently  been  applied  to  the 
 feelings,  thoughts,  and  purposes  of  every  individual  man,  as  to  communities 
 and  nations.     Purity  and  lust,  selfishness  and  self-sacrifice,  cowardice  and 
 
6 14  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 heroism,  justice  and  injustice,  have  brought  forth  the  same  fruit,  each  after 
 its  kind,  from  the  beginning  of  time  until  now — in  ancient  Babylon  and 
 Egypt,  as  in  modern  England. 
 
 All  the  men  and  women  existing  upon  earth  belong  to  one  family  ; 
 share,  that  is,  a  common  humanity.  This  phrase,  "  a  common  humanity," 
 is  neither  vague,  rhetorical,  nor  sentimental;  it  expresses  a  sublime  fact; 
 A  man  as  a  man,  the  wide  world  through,  has  distinguishing  endowments. 
 He  can  master  circumstances  as  no  other  creature  can.  He  can  think. 
 love,  do  his  duty,  sacrifice  for  others  even  to  the  death.  The  "  civilized  " 
 gentleman  of  the  drawing-room  has  passions  which  unite  him  to  the 
 barbarian  ;  the  barbarians  we  may  despise  have  some  of  the  feelings  of 
 gentlemen.  The  saint  is  linked  (as  only  the  saint  himself  knows)  to  the 
 sinner ;  and  the  sinner  has  powers  hidden  within  him  which  may  uplifc 
 him  to  the  communion  of  the  saints. 
 
 The  world  in  which  man  lives  is  intimately  related  to  the  constitution 
 
 of  his  being — 
 
 "  My  voice  proclaims 
 How  exquisitely  the  individual  mind 
 (And  the  progressive  powers  perhaps  no  less 
 Of  the  whole  species)  to  the  external  world 
 Is  fitted  ;  and  how  exquisitely  too 
 The  external  world  is  fitted  to  the  mind, 
 And  the  creation  (by  no  lower  name 
 Can  it  be  called)  which  they  with  blended  might 
 Accomplish." 
 
 Faith  in  one  God  is  the  recognition  and  expression  of  this  blending 
 together — this  dependence  upon  each  other  of  all  atoms  and  all  worlds  — 
 in  the  physical  universe ;  this  union  of  man  with  man  in  a  "  common 
 humanity  ;  "  and  this  intimate  connection  of  man  with  nature. 
 
 The  Unitanans  helicve  that  a  noble  life  is  the  cm  supreme  reqtdrevient  oj 
 the  God  they  worship. 
 
 What  is  a  noble  life?  Not  simi^ly  a  life  adorned  by  gracious  culture; 
 not  simply  a  life  rich  in  the  sweet  joys  of  refined  tastes  and  personal 
 affections  ;  but  a  life  spent  in  the  unselfish  service  of  man.  The  noblest 
 man  is  the  humblest  servant  of  his  fellow-creatures.  He  is  as  "  a  nerve 
 o'er  which  do  creep  the  else  unfelt  oppressions  of  this  earth  ; "  he  is  the 
 unlooser  of  heavy  burdens  ;  he  is  the  leader  of  forlorn  hopes  for  truth  and 
 freedom  and  righteousness'  sake  ;  he  is  the  friend  of  publicans  and  sin- 
 ners ;  he  is  the  bringer  of  glad  tidings  to  those  in  the  bonds  of  their 
 lower  passions;  he  is  the  teacher  of  the  ignorant,  the  uplifter  of  the 
 fallen,  and  the  champion  of  those  who  have  no  helper.  The  world's 
 inifiuities  and  the  world's  miseries  are  heavy  burdens  on  his  soul  ;  and  he 
 cannot  endure  to  dwell  in  peace  and  ease  and  comfort  while  they  remain 
 unredeemed  and  unrelieved.  Christianity  to  the  majority  of  Unitarians  is 
 7iot  an  abstract  system  of  doctrines  about  the  essential  nature  of  the 
 Infinite  God  and  the  rightful  place  of  a  "  Messiah  "  in  the  hierarchy  of 
 created  beings ;  but  the  religion  that  demands  that  they  should  put  away 
 
THE    UNITARIANS.  615 
 
 all  evil  from  their  doings,  and  press  forward  to  the  highest  nobleness 
 which  can  be  attained  by  man.  Many  of  them  freely  criticize  the  letter 
 of  the  records  of  the  life  of  Christ,  and  in  no  way  consider  themselves 
 bound  to  accept  every  text  as  an  oracle  from  heaven  ;  but  they  turn  to 
 the  Cross  as  the  sign  and  symbol  of  the  religion  of  the  divine  life,  rendered 
 perfect  by  the  sacrifice  of  self  in  the  loving  service  of  man.  To  the  Uni- 
 tarian, nobleness  of  character  outweighs  in  worth  all  other  considerations 
 whatever.  A  man  may  be  a  heathen,  or  a  Jew,  or  a  Christian ;  a  Confucian, 
 a  Huddhist,  a  Mahometan,  or  what  not;  he  may  be  a  Catholic  or  a  Pro- 
 testant of  any  sect  ;  he  may  be  a  sceptic  and  a  doubter  ; — nay,  he  may 
 more  than  question,  he  may  declare  that  he  sees  no  reason  for  believing, 
 in  any  religion  at  all, — and  yet,  if  he  be  an  honest  man,  and  strive  to  do 
 his  duty  towards  his  fellow-creatures,  he  is,  in  the  faith  I  cherish  within 
 my  heart  of  hearts,  an  accepted  saint  of  God.  I  no  more  believe  that  a 
 just  God  will  punish  an  honest  man  for  an  erroneous  faith,  or  for  the  lack 
 of  any  faith  at  all,  than  I  believe  that  He  will  condemn  me  to  perdition 
 because  in  my  unconscious  ignorance  when  a  flower  is  presented  to  me,  I 
 assign  it  to  a  wrong  species  ;  or  when  I  have  to  examine  a  rock,  I  place  it 
 in  a  formation  to  which  it  docs  not  belong.  Wrong  opinions,  conscien- 
 tiously formed,  are  not  crimes. 
 
 I  shall  be  asked  how  Unitarians  propose  to  deal  with  men  who  are  not 
 noble  ;  how  they  meet  the  awful  problem  of  human  gilt.  I  have  but  one 
 answer  to  make ;  and  that  the  very  simplest  and  plainest  of  all  possible 
 answers.  I  can  see  no  way  to  "save  sinners,"  except  by  persuading 
 them  to  go  and  sin  no  more.  Save  by  obedience  to  the  eternal  laws  of 
 righteousness  I  know  not  how  the  human  heart  can  be  purified  from  its 
 stains.  A  sick  man  can  only  hope  for  recovery,  as  he  observes  the  con- 
 ditions of  healthfulness ;  so  is  it  with  the  sick  soul.  Whatsoever  a  man 
 soweth  that  shall  he  also  reap  ;  and  until  he  sows  wheat  he  cannot  garner 
 wheat  in  his  barns.  As  we  believe  "  in  fire  that  it  will  burn,"  in  gravita- 
 tion and  electricity,  in  the  flowing  of  the  tides  through  the  influence  of  sun 
 and  moon,  in  the  warmth  of  the  sun  and  the  fragrance  of  flowers,  so  we 
 believe  in  the  ceaseless  and  unswerving  activity  of  moral  laws.  No  theo- 
 logical contrivance  will  avail,  if  we  scatter  chaff  over  a  garden,  to  make  it 
 blossom  with  flowers  ;  if  we  scamp  our  work  and  put  in  bad  material,  to 
 render  it  strong  and  enduring  ;  if  we  take  poison,  to  protect  us  from  death  ; 
 neither  will  any  theological  contrivance  avail  to  convert  a  sinner  into  a 
 saint,  unless  he  resolve  to  walk  in  the  path  of  righteousness.  We  have  no 
 doctrine  of  "  Atonement,"  therefore,  to  ofter  to  the  world  in  any  shape  or 
 form  save  one — the  Atonement  for  wrong-doing  that  can  be  made  by 
 nobler  living.  When  Zaccheus  the  publican  joyfully  received  Jesus  Christ 
 in  his  house,  in  order  to  relieve  himself  of  the  burden  of  guilt  for  any 
 grinding  down  of  the  poor  of  which  he  might  have  been  guilty,  he  cried  : 
 "  Behold,  Lord,  the  half  of  my  goods  I  give  to  the  poor  ;  and  if  /  have 
 laken  anything  fro?n  any  man  by  false  accusation,  I  restore  to  imn  foni'- 
 
6i6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 fold.'''  What  was  the  reply  of  Christ  ?  "And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  This 
 day  is  salvation  "  (yes  !  mark,  "salvation")  "  cornc  to  this  house."  T/iis 
 is  the  kind  of  atonement  we  plead  with  men  to  make  for  their  sins  :  the 
 salvation  our  religion  offers  them  is  the  salvation  of  an  ennobled  life. 
 
 In  the  religion  of  the  Unitarians  this  World  is  regarded  as  a  possible 
 Kingdom  of  Heaven. 
 
 This  Earth  as  it  is,  how  much  fairer  is  it  than  we  have  had  eyes  to 
 see  !  how  much  richer  is  it  in  blessings  than  we  have  had  grace  to  under- 
 stand ! 
 
 By  some  forms  of  religion  itself,  have  men's  eyes  been  blinded  to  the 
 glorious  loveliness  spread  around  them  ;  and  their  hearts  hardened  so  that 
 they  have  not  felt  the  full,  rich,  sweetness  of  innocent  human  joys. 
 
 An  old  monkish  legend  runs  to  the  following  effect:  In  May,  1443,  a 
 company  of  priests  at  the  time  of  the  Council  went  to  walk  in  a  wood  near 
 Basle.  There  were  prelates  and  doctors  and  monks  of  all  colours,  and 
 they  discussed  theological  subtleties  ;  but  suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  their 
 dogmatic  arguments,  they  stopped  short,  and  remained  rooted  to  the  earth, 
 before  a  linden  tree  whereon  a  nightingale  sat  and  exulted  and  sighed  in 
 the  softest,  tenderest  melodies.  "  Come  away  ! "  cried  a  shocked  monk, 
 "  it  is  a  temptation  of  the  devil."  A  temptation  of  the  devil — to  be  cliarmed 
 from  theological  subtleties  by  a  nightingale's  song  !  In  the  religion  I 
 humbly  cherish,  the  nightingale's  song  tells  me  more  of  my  iMaker  than  do 
 the  subtleties  of  theologians. 
 
 I  am  taught  by  my  religion  that  it  is  graceless  ingratitude  to  neglect  the 
 beauties  and  glories  of  earth  ;  and  that  we  shall  best  prepare  ourselves  to 
 receive  any  blessings  that  may  be  yet  to  come  in  the  world  unseen  by 
 heartily  enjoying  the  world  that  is  now  seen. 
 
 In  what  is  known  as  a  "  religious  newspaper  "  I  read  the  other  day  a 
 report  of  a  sermon  by  a  popular  and  devout  preacher  in  which  the  follow- 
 ing tale  was  told  :  At  a  Gospel  meeting  a  latly  was  in  deep  concern  about 
 her  soul  ;  and  when  pressed  to  believe  "  God's  word  about  Christ "  (as 
 the  preacher  called  it),  replied,  "  I  know  that  God  won't  save  me  to-day." 
 The  minister  asked,  "Why  not?  God's  word  says  that  whosoever  bclieveth 
 shall  be  saved,  and  now  is  the  day  of  salvation."  The  lady  replied,  "Ah  ! 
 but  I  know  God  won't  save  me  to-day,  because  I  have  made  up  my  mind 
 
 to  go  to  Mrs. 's  ball  on  Tuesday  evening,  and  He  won't  save  me,  you 
 
 know,  unless  I  ain  willing  to  give  up  the  ball."  The  minister  urged  that 
 God  wished  her  then  and  there  to  believe  that  "  through  Christ  He  could 
 and  would  save  her  soul  from  hell."  The  lady  replied,  "  What  about  the 
 ball?"  The  minister  said,  "Come  to  Jesus  just  as  you  are,  with  the  re- 
 solve to  go  to  the  ball,  and  leave  that  resolve  to  Him.  God  commands 
 you  just  as  you  are,  and  where  you  are,  to  believe  that  out  of  love  to  you 
 His  only  .Son  died  on  the  Cross  for  your  sins  to  save  you  from  hell."  The 
 lady  burst  into  tears  and  cried,  "  I  believe."  The  minister  said,  "  What 
 about  the  ball?  "     She  joyfully  exclaimed  through  her  tears,  "Ah  !  I  don't 
 
THE    UNITARIANS.  617 
 
 want  to  go  to  the  ball  now ;  I  have  obtained  something  better — hence- 
 forth I  shall  live  to  return  the  love  of  Him  who  laid  down  His  life  for 
 me." 
 
 In  one  of  the  charming  letters  of  the  keenest  satirist  of  modern  days, 
 letters  which  show  that  the  tenderness  of  Thackeray's  heart  excelled  even 
 the  quickness  of  his  insight  into  human  follies,  Thackeray  writes:  "I  don't 
 know  about  the  unseen  world,  the  use  of  the  seen  world  is  the  right  thing, 
 I'm  sure.  It  is  just  as  much  God's  world  and  creation  as  the  kingdom  of 
 heaven  with  all  its  angels.  How  will  you  make  yourself  most  happy  in  it  ? 
 how,  at  least,  secure  the  greatest  amount  of  happiness  compatible  with 
 your  condition  }  By  despairing  to-day  and  looking  up  cloudward  ?  Pish. 
 Let  us  turn  God's  to-day  to  its  best  use  as  well  as  any  other  part  of  the 
 time  He  gives  us.  .  .  .  The  bounties  of  our  Father  I  believe  to  be 
 countless  and  inexhaustible  for  most  of  us  here  in  life  ;  Love  the  greatest, 
 Art  (which  is  an  exquisite,  admiring  sense  of  nature)  the  next.  By  Jove  ! 
 I  will  admire,  if  I  can,  the  wing  of  a  cock-sparrow  as  much  as  the  pinion 
 of  an  archangel,  and  adore  God  the  Father  of  the  Earth,  first ;  waiting  for 
 the  completion  of  my  senses  and  the  fulfilment  of  His  intention  towards 
 me  afterwards,  when  this  scene  closes  o'er  us." 
 
 I  cannot  perhaps  describe  more  clearly  the  spirit  of  the  religion  I  hold 
 than  by  saying  that  it  bids  me  cry  "  Amen  "  to  the  words  of  the  great 
 humorist,  rather  than  to  the  injunctions  of  the  preacher  to  "believe"  a 
 faith  which  will  compel  me  to  regard  the  going  to  a  ball  as  a  desertion  of 
 Christ. 
 
 The  Unitarians  accept  with  all  their  hearts  and  souls  the  sublime  fact 
 that  the  history  of  man  is  the  history  of  a  progressive  being.  The  legend 
 of  "  the  Fall  "  has  a  strange  and  touching  beauty  of  its  own.  It  is  like  the 
 sigh  of  an  outworn  and  weary  man  for  the  days  of  his  childhood,  when  he 
 knew  no  sin  and  had  received  no  wounds  in  the  fierce  battle  of  life.  But 
 we  dismiss  it  from  our  religion.  We  believe  in  the  rise  and  not  the  fall  of 
 man.  We  believe  ourselves  members  of  a  race  which  has  ever  been  press- 
 ing onwards,  unfolding  fresh  powers,  discovering  new  truths,  recognising 
 higher  and  more  comprehensive  duties,  escaping  from  barbaric  instincts 
 and  surroundings,  and  establishing  from  age  to  age,  in  some  portion  of  the 
 world  or  other,  a  more  wisely  ordered  and  happier  civilization. 
 
 The  commonest  school-books  teach  how  our  rude  forefathers  passed  in 
 their  knowledge  of  the  world's  resources  from  the  "age  of  stone,"  through 
 the  "  age  of  bronze,"  to  the  "  age  of  iron."  When  we  study  the  history 
 of  nations  we  find  that  each  empire  did  some  service  in  the  world,  and 
 only  fell  when  that  service  was  fully  rendered  and  it  encumbered  the 
 ground.  The  history  of  religion  tells  the  same  glorious  tale  :  every  religion 
 has  been  in  its  day  a  step  in  advance.  Practices  and  doctrines  supersti- 
 tious to  us  at  our  time,  helped,  as  we  acknowledge  with  gratitude,  to  up- 
 lift the  souls  of  men.  Every  Christian  Church,  every  form  of  faith,  now  to 
 be  found  in  the  world,  is,  we  believe,  suited  to  the  wants  of  some  human 
 
6i8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 hearts,  strengthens  them  to  endure  and  toil  and  hope  as  they  pass  through 
 this  strange  pilgrimage,  and  thus  prepares  in  the  desert  a  highway  for  our 
 
 God. 
 
 Alas  !  we  are  none  of  us  true  to  our  religion.  So  far  as  the  Unitarians 
 are  true  to  their  faith  they  stand  in  the  ranks  of  the  enthusiasts  of  humanity. 
 This  is  their  rightful  place  by  virtue  of  their  principles  and  their  history, 
 however  poor  and  weak  may  be  their  organizations,  however  inconsistent 
 may  be  their  conduct,  however  timidly  they  may  shrink  from  the  logical 
 consequences  of  their  own  convictions,  however  feebly  they  may  discharge 
 their  duties.  At  least  I  may  claim  without  boastfulness  that  they  have  to 
 some  real  extent  proved  themselves  among  the  enthusiasts  of  humanity  by 
 making  their  spiritual  centres  centres  of  beneficent  activities.  They  tauglit 
 reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic  in  their  Sunday  Schools,  when  a  know- 
 ledge of  those  simple  arts  was  denied  to  the  masses  of  our  people.  They 
 conduct  missions  in  which  the  wants  of  the  suffering  are  heeded  apart 
 from  any  distinction  of  sect  and  party.  They  strive  to  unite  themselves 
 in  the  discharge  of  public  duties  with  all  men  who  are  sufficiently  liberal 
 in  spirit  not  to  exclude  heretics  desirous  of  being  useful  in  God's  world 
 from  their  company.  And  who  is  the  enthusiast  of  humanity  ?  Such  an 
 enthusiast  as  I  am  moved  by  all  the  power  and  authority  of  my  religion, 
 first  and  foremost  of  all  things,  to  pray  that  I  may  become?  The  enthu- 
 siast of  humanity  especially  rejoices  in  all  the  bravest,  most  loving,  self- 
 sacrificing  deeds  recorded  in  the  history  of  man  ;  although  performed  by 
 few,  they  mark  for  him  sublime  possibilities  for  all  the  cliildren  of  God, 
 and  are  majestic  prophecies  of  the  world  that  is  yet  to  be.  His  heart 
 beats  as  he  hears  of  the  captain  standing  by  the  sinking  ship  until  all  are 
 saved ;  the  soldier  carrying  a  wounded  comrade  from  the  battlefield  amid 
 a  storm  of  bullets ;  the  miner  penetrating  dark  and  dangerous  shafts  in 
 which  the  air  is  charged  with  poison  and  flames  to  rescue  his  comrade  ; 
 the  surgeon  tending  the  sick  in  the  haunts  of  pestilence. 
 
 He  reverences  with  a  boundless  reverence  those  who  have  had  trial  of 
 cruel  mockings  and  scourgings  :  yea,  moreover,  of  bonds  and  imprison- 
 ment; who  have  been  stoned,  sawn  asunder,  tempted,  slain  with  the  sword, 
 for  righteousness'  sake. 
 
 He  enthrones  as  his  masters,  lords,  and  king-  those  who  have  been  the 
 world's  outcasts,  because  the  world's  redeemers;  wlio  have  opened  the 
 prison-house  for  the  oppressed,  and  made  the  blind  see  and  the  deaf 
 hear. 
 
 He  watches  and  aids  to  his  utmost  power  the  work  of  those  who  would 
 bring  home  the  prodigal ;  drag  the  stained  woman  from  haunts  of  debau- 
 chery ;  bring  young  children  from  the  gutter  to  the  school ;  and  replace 
 by  angel  presences  of  pure  and  holy  feelings  the  demons  of  coarse  passion 
 which  have  entered  into  human  souls. 
 
 The  enthusiast  of  humanity  learns  from  all  that  has  been  done  by  man 
 never  to  despair,  and  his  confident  hope,  justified  by  the  lives  of  those  who 
 
THE    UNITARIANS.  619 
 
 have  strived,  toiled,  and  died  for  the  ungodly,  for  the  miserable,  and  for 
 the  wronged,  is  that 
 
 "A  brighter  nioru  awaits  the  Iiuman  clay. 
 When  every  transfer  of  earth's  natural  gifts 
 Shall  be  a  commerce  of  good  words  and  works ; 
 When  *  *- 
 
 The  fear  of  infamy,  disease,  and  woe, — 
 War  with  its  million  horrors  and  fierce  hell, — 
 Shall  live  but  in  the  memory  of  time, 
 Who  like  a  penitent  libertine  shall  start, 
 Look  back,  and  shudder  at  his  younger  years." 
 
 Whatsoever  of  this  enthusiasm  of  humanity  dwells  within  my  heart  I 
 owe  to  the  religion  I  have  so  imperfectly  described  to-day.  I  owe  to  my 
 religion  also  the  crowning  hope  that  the  awful  and  majestic  Power  of 
 powers,  who  has  called  into  being  as  His  children  those  who  can  so  ma- 
 jestically, although  through  such  dire  and  terrible  struggles,  pass  from  glory 
 to  glory,  will  not  cast  away  as  worthless  any  individual  soul  belonging  to 
 the  race  He  has  so  richly  endowed  with  a  capacity  for  endless  growth,  but 
 has  prepared  a  heaven  "  of  many  mansions,"  where  all  tears  shall  be  wiped 
 away  from  their  eyes,  and  there  shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow 
 nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain  ;  for  the  former  things 
 shall  have  passed  away. 
 
THEISM. 
 By  the  Rev.  Charles  Voysey,  B.A. 
 
 I  HAVE  been  courteously  invited,  as  the  minister  of  The  Theistic  Church 
 in  London,  to  set  forth  and  explain  the  principles  and  beliefs  of  Theism. 
 In  order  to  enlist  your  sympathy  with  the  subject  at  the  outset,  and  to 
 inform  those  of  my  hearers  who  know  nothing  about  it  what  it  is  they  are 
 now  asked  to  look  at  and  to  examine,  I  will  as  briefly  as  possible  give  a 
 summary  of  the  Theistic  principles  and  beliefs. 
 
 The  Leading  Canon  is  :  That  it  is  the  right  and  duty  of  every  man  to 
 think  for  himself  on  matters  of  religion. 
 
 No  other  man,  however  illustrious ;  no  book,  however  venerable  or 
 precious  ;  no  Church  or  sect,  however  ancient,  dominant,  or  arrogant, 
 may  be  used  as  an  authority,  binding  in  any  degree  upon  the  individual 
 mind  or  conscience. 
 
 The  Second  Canon  is  :  That  while  all  professed  knowledge  of  God  is 
 partial,  defective,  and  comparatively  very  small,  such  knowledge  may  be 
 increased,  corrected,  and  refined  by  the  proper  use  of  our  faculties;  and 
 that  as  generations  to  come  may  successively  advance  in  intelligence,  en- 
 lightenment, and  virtue,  they  will  make  progress  likewise  in  the  knowledge 
 of  God. 
 
 The  Third  Canon  is  :  That  all  knowledge  of  God  whatever  must  be 
 based  on  natural  facts — on  certain  indisputable  facts  in  the  outer  and 
 l^hysical  phenomena  of  Nature,  and  on  certain  indisputable  facts  in  the 
 nature  and  faculties  of  man  ;  on  these  latter  as  the  interpreters  of  the 
 former.  Under  this  Canon,  the  corollary  is  drawn,  that  no  belief  of 
 Theism  can  ever  be  at  variance  with  the  exact  and  demonstrated  conclu- 
 sions of  true  Science.  Between  true  Science  and  true  Theism  there  can 
 be  no  collision. 
 
 These  are  the  main  principles  of  Theism,  by  which  as  a  system  of 
 religious  belief  it  must  be  always  guided  and  controlled. 
 
 The  beliefs  are  very  simple  and  few  :   - 
 
 1.  A  belief  in  one  only  God,  who  is  Supreme  over  all  the  universe  in 
 power,  wisdom,  and  goodness. 
 
 2.  A  belief  that  everything  is  now  ordered  and  working  for  the  best, 
 and  that  the  final  issue  will  be  entirely  good,  to  the  satisfaction  of  every 
 creature  capable  of  sensation  and  thought. 
 
 3.  A  belief  that  as  our  having  life  at  all  here  is  the  result  of  the  love  of 
 God  towards  us,  that  life  will  be  continued  for  ever  in  such  other  con- 
 ditions as  God  may  see  to  be  best  for  us. 
 
 C20 
 
THEISM.  621 
 
 4.  'I'he  belief  in  a  God  like  this  is  no  barren  opinion  or  intellectual  con- 
 viction, but  a  very  powerful  and  constant  stimulant  to  the  highest  virtue 
 and  to  brotherly  love  among  men.  Whenever  it  takes  hold  on  the  heart, 
 it  gives  patience  and  fortitude  under  the  trials  and  perplexities  of  the 
 world,  it  purifies  all  our  pleasures,  and  fills  us  with  a  joyful  hope. 
 
 Theism  is,  then,  a  belief  in  a  God  whom  we  can  thoroughly  trust  and 
 love,  and  whom  to  obey  is  a  delight ;  a  belief  based  on  indisputable  facts, 
 and  capable  of  expansion  and  elevation  with  every  addition  to  our  know- 
 ledge and  with  every  rise  in  our  moral  nature. 
 
 You  now  have  before  you,  I  hope  stated  with  clearness,  the  subject  we 
 have  to  consider. 
 
 First,  a  few  words  in  reference  to  the  name  Theism.  In  some  respects 
 it  is  unfortunate,  because  it  is  only  intelligible  to  persons  who  have  a  cer- 
 tain amount  of  education.  It  is  not  at  once  clear  and  definite  to  the 
 ignorant,  as  the  English  equivalent  "  Belief  in  God  "  would  have  been  ; 
 but  I  am  not  responsible  for  its  adoption.  I  found  the  word  alread) 
 established  in  literature  for  the  very  ideas  and  beliefs  which  I  had  come 
 to  hold  on  quite  independent  grounds. 
 
 The  earliest  use  of  the  term  Theism  which  I  have  been  able  to  dis- 
 cover, is  in  the  works  of  Lord  Bolingbroke,  although  he  and  kindred  writers 
 in  his  day  were  called  "  Deists  "  not  Theists  .-  a  most  fortunate  fact  for  us, 
 because  our  Theism  difters  from  some  of  their  Deism  even  more  strikingly 
 than  the  Deists  difter  from  each  other. 
 
 In  the  present  century  Francis  William  Newman  was  the  first  writer  in 
 England  to  give  to  the  term  "  Theism  "  a  definite  and  formal  signification. 
 He  published  an  elaborate  treatise  in  rliythmic  prose  under  the  title  of 
 Thcistn,  Doctrinal  and  Practical,  in  1858.  Soon  after,  in  1863  or  1864. 
 Miss  Frances  P.  Cobbe  issued  her  Brolzen  Lights,  in  which  we  find  the 
 term  Theism  freely  applied  to  the  religious  beliefs  of  which  I  am  speaking. 
 But  some  years  before  either  of  those  two  works  appeared,  I  think  in 
 1834,  Theodore  Parker  had  published  in  America  his  celebrated  Discourse 
 of  Religion,  in  which  he  very  often  uses  the  term  "  Theism  "  in  the  same 
 way,  but  not  with  such  uniform  and  definite  regularity,  as  did  F.  W .  New- 
 man. For  "  Theism,"  Parker  sometimes  used  the  terms,  "  The  Absolute 
 Religion,"  "Spiritualism,"  and  even  "Christianity."  On  the  whole,  then, 
 I  think  Professor  Newman  is  entitled  to  be  regarded  as  the  originator  of 
 the  name  Theism  in  its  application  to  the  principles  and  beliefs  of  The 
 Theistic  Church. 
 
 For  my  own  part,  I  had  no  choice  but  to  follow  an  example  so  worthy 
 of  reverence,  and  to  adopt  the  title  which  was  already  recognised,  stamped 
 and  current  amongst  educated  persons.  All  the  three  writers  I  have  men- 
 tioned,—Parker,  Newman,  and  Miss  Cobbe— alike  repudiated  the  authority 
 and  infallibility  of  all  so-called  supernatural  revelation  ;  all  alike  regarded 
 the  knowledge  of  Crod  as  attainable  only  through  the  native  faculties  of 
 man— Reason,  Conscience,  Love,  and  Religion. 
 
622  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF    THE    WORLD. 
 
 It  was  necessary  that  the  new  teaching  should  be  antagonistic  :  on  one 
 side  to  Christian  dogmas,  and  on  the  other  to  Atheism,  Pantheism,  and 
 Positivism. 
 
 Miss  Cobbe  is,  perhaps,  the  most  distinguished  for  her  antagonism  to 
 the  latter  three  forms  of  thought ;  and  while  she  attacked  also  the  Christian 
 dogmas,  she  stopped  short  of  criticizing  Jesus.  Parker,  in  his  Discourse  oj 
 Religion,  dealt  fairly  but  severely  with  the  errors  of  Jesus,  yet  occasionally 
 neutralized  his  criticism  by  recurring  to  the  sentimental  talk  fashionable 
 among  Unitarians,  and  even  wrote  a  glowing  hymn  addressed  to  Jesus 
 Himself. 
 
 Professor  Newman  stands  pre-eminent  among  the  three  for  his  unsparing 
 unequivocal  opposition  to  the  prevailing  sentiment  and  idolatry,  and  he 
 sees  to  this  day  the  dire  necessity  for  such  an  uncompromising  attitude. 
 I  need  hardly  say  that,  although  I  do  not  concur  with  him  in  every  detail 
 of  his  criticism,  I  am  heart  and  soul  with  him  in  the  integrity  of  his 
 principles  on  this  matter  of  antagonism  to  the  supremacy  of  Christ. 
 
 Theism,  in  this  age  and  under  present  conditions,  is,  therefore,  both 
 positive  and  negative,  constructive  and  destructive,  practical  and  mili- 
 tant. 
 
 All  the  chief  religions  of  the  world  are  believed  by  their  respective 
 votaries  to  have  been  revealed  authoritatively  by  God  to  men;  and  the 
 tales  of  such  revelation  and  the  subject-matter  revealed  are  contained  in 
 so-called  sacred  books  or  in  some  mysterious  way  entrusted    to  an  indi- 
 vidual or  to  a  Church,  which,  on  that  ground,  claims  absolute  submission  of 
 mind  and  will,  as  to  a  God  or  living  representative  of  God.     Theists,  on 
 the  other  hand,    declare  that  none  of  these  alleged  revelations  can   be 
 Divine,  because  they  contain  ideas  and  beliefs  which  are  contrary  to  the 
 reason,  or  the  conscience,  or  the  affections,  or  the  religious  instinct  of  man, 
 or  to  all  four  together,  or  to  any  of  them  in  combination.     The  Thcist  will 
 say  to  one  and  all  the  claimants:  You  appeal  to  my  reason  by  every  intelli- 
 gible proposition  you  utter  ;  if  it  concerns  a  matter  of  ethics,  you  appeal  to 
 my  conscience  ;  if  a  matter  of  beneficence  or  the  contrary,  you  appeal  to  my 
 native  human  love  ;  and  if,  on  a  matter  of  the  Divine  dealings,  you  appeal  to 
 my  native  religious  instinct.    Your  revelation  must  appeal  thus  to  my  native 
 faculties,  or  else  it   might  as  well  be  brought  to  me  in  a  foreign  language, 
 which  1   do  not  understand.     I  am  absolutely  bound  by  the  necessity  of 
 things  to  use  these  faculties  l^efore  I  can  understand  even  what  you  say. 
 But  some  of  you.  Christians  most  of  all,  do  your  utmost  to  hamper  and 
 paralyze  my  faculties  by  bribes  and  threats,  so  that  my  power  of  perception 
 is  blurred,  my  judgment  is  biassed,  and  my  discernment  of  truth  from  false- 
 hood considerably  weakened.  You  tell  me  that  your  revelation  is  the  actual 
 word  of  the  God  who  made  me,  and  it  has  a  right  to  my  prompt  belief  and 
 obedience.    You  tell  me,  if  I  believe  your  message  I  shall  have  infinite  and 
 endless  happiness,  and  that  if  I  believe  it  not  I  shall  be  doomed  to  infinite 
 and  endless  woe.     Thus,  while  you  apparently  appeal  to  my  God-given 
 
THEISM.  623 
 
 faculties  for  distinguishing  truth  from  error,  you  really  are  appealing  to  my 
 selfish  hopes  or  to  my  debasing  fears.  This  process  of  itself  arouses  my 
 suspicions  and  sets  me  on  my  guard ;  makes  me  more  sceptical  than  ever; 
 and  therefore  I  at  once,  if  I  can,  bring  all  my  energies  to  look  carefully  at 
 what  you  declare  to  be  God's  word  and  God's  revelation  to  me.  I  bring 
 to  bear  on  this  inquiry  my  native  faculties.  I  ask,  in  turn — Is  this 
 rational?  Is  it  probable?  Is  it  credible?  Does  it  tally  with  experience 
 and  with  the  known  order  of  natural  events  ?  I  then  use  my  conscience, 
 and  I  ask  :  Is  this  or  that  statement  consistent  with  right  ?  Would  it  be 
 just  ?  Ought  I  to  trust,  love,  or  obey  the  Being  to  whom  such  and  such 
 conduct  is  imputed?  I  go  further,  and  ask  my  heart  :  Should  I  treat  my 
 children  in  this  way  ?  Would  I  demean  myself  to  torment  my  fellow- 
 man  or  do  any  wanton  harm  even  to  my  enemy  ?  Could  I  be  so  brutal 
 to  a  dog  or  to  a  venomous  reptile  ? 
 
 The  Theist  is  essentially  involved  in  such  inquiries  whenever  any 
 alleged  Divine  revelatiqn  is  put  before  him,  claiming  his  belief  and  sub- 
 mission. He  tests  every  statement  by  an  appeal  to  what  is  highest  and 
 best  within  himself.  He  cannot,  of  course,  pretend  to  solve  every  pro- 
 blem and  to  explain  every  detail  of  the  marvellous  Cosmos,  but  it  is  always 
 within  his  range  and  within  liis  rights  to  submit  all  alleged  revelation  to  the 
 scrutiny  of  his  reason,  conscience,  and  noblest  affections.  And  the  an- 
 swer hitherto  given  by  the  Theist,  e.g.,  to  the  Christian  revelation  by  the 
 Bible,  by  the  Church,  or  by  Christ,  is  this  :  I  find  some  of  your  statements 
 to  be  childish,  irrational,  and  palpably  untrue.  I  find  other  of  your 
 statements  to  be  morally  objectionable,  ascribing  to  God  dealings  which 
 our  conscience  condemns.  Nothing  can  dislodge  the  Theist  from  his  posi- 
 tion or  shake  his  conviction  of  the  wisdom,  righteousness,  and  goodwill 
 of  God,  because  that  conviction  is  based  on  the  facts  of  human  nature,  the 
 nobler  part  of  which  consists,  in  its  own  small  degree,  of  wisdom,  right- 
 eousness, and  goodwill  or  love.  If  there  be  a  God  at  all,  it  is  only  com- 
 mon sense  to  say.  He  must  be  at  least  as  good  as  the  best  of  men. 
 1  .ogically,  you  can  overthrow  the  Theist  by  denying  God  and  proving  that 
 there  is  no  God  at  all.  But  so  long  as  this  is  unproved,  so  long  as  it  is 
 only  doubtful  whether  there  be  a  God  or  not.  Theism  stands  absolutely 
 secure. 
 
 That  form  of  mere'Agnosticism  which  says,  "There  may  be  a  God,  but  we 
 can  never  know  anything  about  Him,"  is  quite  untenable  while  man  retains 
 his  present  faculties  of  reason,  conscience,  and  affection.  For  to  admit 
 that  there  is  a  God,  and  yet  to  say  He  may  be  neither  intelligent,  nor 
 righteous,  nor  loving,  is  to  deny  that  there  is  a  God,  but  to  admit  that  there 
 may  be  a  devil  or  an  idiot  at  the  source  of  things.  Such  foolishness  is  too 
 transparent. 
 
 Here,  however,  it  is  needful,  even  if  it  be  somewhat  out  of  the  order 
 of  my  argument,  to  say  distinctly  that  the  claim  we  Theists  make  to  know 
 by  the  world  and  by  ourselves  some  little  of  the  truth  about  God,  is  com- 
 
624  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 bined  with  a  most  profound  and  reverent  kind  of  Agnosticism  which 
 confesses  that  at  best  we  can  only  know  a  very  little,  and  that  but  partially 
 and  defectively  as  compared  with  the  actual  and  full  truth.  It  is  in  our 
 power  to  say  He  must  be  as  good  as  the  best  of  His  creatures ;  it  is  not  in 
 our  power  to  tell  how  infinitely  better  and  higher  He  is.  And  this  power  of 
 limited  affirmation,  enables  us  to  discern  whatever  of  truth  and  moral 
 beauty  may  be  found  in  all  so-called  revelations,  and  to  accept  heartily 
 every  word  which  may  commend  itself  to  our  reason,  conscience,  and  heart. 
 This  is  why  Theists  have  retained  in  their  worship  some  of  the  old  forms  of 
 the  Christian  Church,  and  use  to  great  advantage  many  parts  of  the  Bible, 
 especially  of  the  Psalms,  and  the  Prophets,  and  the  moral  precepts  of  the 
 New  Testament.  But  you  already  know  that  we  do  not  accept  them  on 
 the  score  of  any  alleged  supernatural  authority ;  only  on  the  ground  of 
 their  intrinsic  truth  and  value.  We  do  the  same  with  the  sacred  books  of 
 other  religions  likewise.  We  never  cease  to  proclaim  that  every  man 
 carries  within  him  his  own  revelation,  his  own  powers  of  seeing  and  know- 
 ing some  truth  about  God,  and  that  it  is  not  only  our  right,  but  our  para- 
 mount duty,  to  exercise  our  faculties  in  that  search. 
 
 Now,  let  me  simply  state  what  we  Theists  believe  concerning  God,  as 
 taught  us  by  those  three  faculties  of  Reason,  Conscience,  and  Love.  In 
 the  first  place,  Reason  warns  us  that  a  knowledge  of  God  as  He  is,  and 
 of  the  mode  of  His  relation  to  the  material  world,  is  impossible.  We  do 
 not  even  yet  know  what  our  own  souls  are,  or  how  they  are  related  to  our 
 bodies.  But  as  we  can  discern  the  distinction  between  soul  and  body, 
 we  reasonably  infer  that  there  is  an  infinitely  greater  Soul  than  ours  behind 
 all  the  phenomena  of  the  visible  universe.  Chance  being  no  longer  toler- 
 ated as  an  explanation  of  what  we  see,  the  only  alternative  is  that  which 
 Science  herself  affirms,  namely,  that  order,  and  law,  and  purpose  mark 
 every  step  in  the  course  of  what  we  call  Nature.  And  if  anywhere,  even 
 in  a  single  instance,  a  true  purpose  can  be  seen,  it  is  a  proof  of  the  exist- 
 ence of  some  I'ower  corresponding  to  what  we  call  "  mind  "  in  ourselves. 
 
 Every  discovery  which  we  can  make  of  law  or  purpose  involves  the  con- 
 ception of  a  mind  capable  of  originating  and  working  it  out.  It  is  no 
 answer  to  say  that  mind  as  we  know  it  in  ourselves  is  always  found  in  con- 
 junction with  a  living  and  healthy  brain,  and  that  therefore  there  is  no  such 
 thing  as  a  Divine  Mind.  For  what  is  proved  is  not  a  mere  postulate,  but 
 an  accomplished  fact.  Here  before  our  eyes  is  the  result  of  mind  or 
 reason  in  the  most  stupendous  form.  The  fact  teaches  us  something  we 
 could  not  otherwise  know  ;  viz.,  that  mind  is  not  necessarily  dependent  on 
 a  human  brain,  but  does  exist  and  work  on  a  scale  infinitely  beyond  our 
 highest  brain-power,  and  therefore  is  of  necessity  not  dependent  on  brain 
 as  ours  may  be.  Having  got  this  proof  of  the  Divine  Intelligence,  our 
 reason  tell  us  that  God  must  be /r«^ ;  that  truth  can  only  emanate  from 
 Him,  and  that  only  truth  can,  so  to  speak,  please  or  satisfy  His  Mind. 
 Thus  we  get  the  idea  of  His  trustworthiness  out  of  our  reason  alone.     But 
 
THEISM.  625 
 
 reason  by  itself  is  not  sufficient ;  for  men  equally  wise  and  equally  intent 
 on  searching  for  truth  have  arrived  at  opposite  conclusions  respecting  the 
 power  or  powers  that  rule  in  Nature.  Some  have  insisted  that  there  can 
 only  be  one  such  power  ;  others  that  there  are  many,  or  at  least  two— one 
 evil  and  one  good.  Science  has  helped  us  in  this  region  of  inquiry  very 
 much  indeed,  by  discovering  innumerable  tokens  of  the  absolute  unity  of 
 the  whole  cosmos,  and  by  teaching  that,  if  there  be  a  God  at  all,  there  can 
 be  only  one.  Polarity  there  may  be,  but  no  antagonism.  Science  sides 
 rather  with  the  text,  "  I  the  Lord  create  good,  and  I  create  evil,"  and  not 
 with  the  Persian  belief  in  the  eternal  war  between  Ormuzd  and  Ahriman. 
 
 Reason  by  itself  will  not  solve  the  great  problems  of  good  and  evil,  life 
 and  growth,  decay  and  destruction,  which  are  everywhere  manifest.  So 
 we  turn  to  another  faculty  of  our  nature  in  order  to  know  more  of  Him 
 whom  we  call  God.  \\'e  have  within  us  the  moral  sense,  the  sense  of 
 duty,  the  absolutely  pure  feeling  :  "  I  ought  to  do  this,  I  ought  not  to  do 
 the  other,  no  matter  what  the  consequences  to  myself  may  be.  I  ought  to 
 do  what  I  think  to  be  right.  I  ought  to  try  with  the  utmost  pains  to  find 
 out  what  is  right."  This  sense,  for  brevity,  we  call  Conscience.  It  is 
 often  loosely  confounded  with  moral  codes,  and  put  in  place  of  the  list  of 
 things  we  ought  to  do  and  ought  not  to  do.  These  things  the  conscience 
 does  not  tell  us,  they  are  taught  by  reason  and  experience  and  artificial 
 education.  The  conscience  is  only  the  uniform  voice  telling  us  to  do  what 
 we  think  or  know  to  be  right,  because  it  is  right,  and  not  because  we  shall 
 be  rewarded ;  and  to  avoid  doing  what  we  think  or  know  to  be  wrong,  be- 
 cause it  is  wrong,  and  not  because  we  shall  be  punished. 
 
 This  sense  of  right  is  always  associated  in  a  religious  mind  with  the  idea 
 of  God.  When  we  say,  "  I  ought,'"  we  really  say,  "  I  owe  it  to  my  Maker 
 to  do  this,"  or,  "  I  owe  it  to  my  fellow-man  to  do  this,  because  duty  is 
 part  of  my  obligation  to  the  God  who  gave  me  life  and  powers,  and  put 
 me  into  relation  with  other  men." 
 
 Now,  of  course,  it  stands  to  reason,  it  is  nothing  more  than  plain  com- 
 mon-sense to  infer  that  the  conscience  could  only  have  been  implanted 
 in  man  by  a  Being  who  was  Himself  good,  and  on  the  side  of  right  and 
 against  wrong ;  and  who  wanted  to  provide  that  men  should  act  from  a 
 sense  of  duty  to  one  another,  and  also  from  the  best  motives.  For  I 
 should  have  noted  before,  that  the  conscience  demands  not  only  right 
 action,  but  pure  motives,  and  demands  from  us  secret  goodness  as  well  as 
 good  behaviour. 
 
 A  God  who  caused  us  to  feel  all  this  must  be  Himself  righteous,  utterly 
 true  and  faithful  and  trustworthy,  pure  in  His  purposes,  and  steadfast  in 
 their  fulfilment.  We  thus  simply  and  reasonably  reach  the  conception  of  a 
 Good  God. 
 
 I  am  not  here  to-day  to  answer  every  objection  that  could  be  brought 
 against  Theism,  only  to  state  what  it  is.  Nevertheless  it  will  occur  to  a 
 hundred  doubters  to  point  at  once  to  what  goes  on  in  the  world,  of  pain 
 
 VOL,  I. — pt.  2.  T  T 
 
626  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 and  moral  evil,  and  ask  how  one  can  reconcile  these  things  with  a  belief 
 in  a  good  God.  Vou  will  own  with  me  that  the  question  is  too  vast  to  be 
 entirely  answered  now  ;  but  I  affirm  that  we  Theists  have  given  a  better 
 answer  to  it  than  any  which  has  been  made  by  the  other  great  rehgions  of 
 the  world. 
 
 If  that  answer  can  be  summarized  at  all,  I  will  try  to  give  it  now : — 
 Pain  and  death  are  not  evils  in  themselves.     They  are  essential  to  the 
 progress  and  happiness  of  all  sentient  creatures.    Take  away  the  possibility 
 of  pain,  and  there  could  be  no  more  physical  enjoyment. 
 
 Pain  likewise  ministers  constantly  to  the  well-being  and  improvement  of 
 he  outward  lot  of  man,  and  still  more  to  the  elevation  and  progress  of  his 
 nobler  faculties.  Without  pain,  some  of  our  highest  virtues  w^ould  be  un- 
 known and  impossible.  As  for  death,  if  there  were  no  such  thing  as  dying, 
 the  world  would  become  indeed  a  hell.  When  it  is  also  believed  that 
 death,  for  man  at  least,  is  only  the  passage  into  a  higher  state  of  life, 
 death  is  no  longer  considered  as  an  evil  at  all.  Moral  evil  is  also  a  bless- 
 ing in  disguise  ;  for  it  is  produced  not  by  any  acts  which  we  now  call 
 wicked,  but  by  having  a  conscience  which  makes  us  see  that  when  we  do 
 such  and  such  acts  they  are  wicked  and  wrong.  Moral  evil  is  the  result 
 not  of  a  fall  from  perfection,  but  of  a  rise  from  sheer  animalism  and  brutal 
 unconsciousness  of  right  and  wrong.  Moral  evil  is  also  the  chief  factor  of 
 our  highest  virtues  in  dealing  with  it. 
 
 I  grant  you,  if  death  makes  an  end  of  us,  this  moral  discipline  is  frus- 
 trated ;  but  if  we  are  to  live  for  ever,  our  moral  discipline  liere  will  have 
 its  fruition  hereafter,  and  all  souls  will  come  to  be  righteous  and  fulfil  the 
 evident  purpose  for  which  they  were  created. 
 
 I  fear— nay,  I  know — how  fragmentary  and  perhaps  useless  this  answer 
 may  be.  All  I  can  say  is,  that  we  have  devoted  more  attention  to  these 
 subjects  of  pain  and  sin  because  they  are  the  chief  obstacles  to  a  belief  in 
 a  good  God,  and  we  have  been  rewarded  for  i)atient  research  by  seeing  in 
 these  very  so-called  evils  the  greatest  tokens  of  His  faithful  goodness.  The 
 Atheist  can  only  howl  at  them  as  the  cursed  conditions  of  a  godless  world. 
 The  Christian  makes  of  creation  a  blunder,  infinite  and  inexcusable,  and  a 
 God  defeated  by  a  devil,  while  He  stands  by  hopelessly  helpless  and  sees 
 the  millions  of  lost  souls  streaming  into  endless  hell.  The  Theist  sees  all 
 things  in  the  light  of  steps  upward  into  light  and  glory  and  goodness  and 
 blessedness,  marks  of  Divine  wisdom  and  Divine  power,  Divine  patience, 
 and  Divine  love.  Anyway,  the  conscience  tells  us  that  God  must  be  good, 
 and  will  make  all  things  come  right  at  last,  even  if  there  is  much  that  we 
 cannot  explain.  If  everything  we  call  evil  is  not  to  issue  in  good,  then 
 man  is  more  righteous  than  his  Maker. 
 
 The  conscience  in  man  demands  as  well  as  expects  that  the  course  and 
 destiny  of  the  world  should,  before  all  things,  be  right. 
 
 But  Reason  and  Conscience  do  not  stand  alone  in  our  nature.     They 
 teach  us  much,  yet  there  is  more  to  learn  ;  and  a  still  higher  teacher  is 
 
THEISM.  627 
 
 within  us.  This  is  Love,  which,  thank  God,  every  one  knows  something 
 of  by  experience.  In  spite  of  all  the  inferior  and  even  foul  meanings 
 which  have  been  given  to  the  term,  it  is  known  as  the  impulse  to  do  good, 
 and  only  good,  and  the  highest  good,  to  its  object.  It  is  an  emotion  dis- 
 tinct from  the  Reason  and  Conscience,  yet  whenever  it  is  true  Love  it  acts 
 in  harmony  with  both. 
 
 Its  presence  in  the  heart  is  a  source  of  joy,  its  exercise  is  an  ecstasy,  our 
 highest  bliss  on  earth,  and  the  success  of  its  endeavours  the  richest  re- 
 ward. It  is  absolutely  unselfish,  every  self-denial  for  love  is  so  much  gain ; 
 every  sacrifice,  even  to  life  itself,  is  an  indulgence  of  supreme  desire.  True 
 love  is  the  only  perfect  and  infallible  faculty  which  belongs  to  us,  and 
 nothing  raises  and  ennobles  us  so  much,  or  wins  for  us  the  homage  of 
 mankind.  ^Ve  know  how  it  surpasses  the  achievements  of  the  .grandest 
 genius,  the  most  perfect  skill,  the  greatest  efforts  of  intellect.  We  know, 
 too,  how  true  love  excels  even  the  rarest  conscientiousness,  and  how  far 
 nobler  it  is  to  be  impelled  by  love  than  by  a  cold  sense  of  duty. 
 
 We  need  not  to  be  told  that  if  true  love  ruled  all  our  actions,  and  was 
 the  motive  of  all  our  hves,  all   sin   would  disapjiear,   and  a   multitude  of 
 sorrows  would  be  heard  of  no  more.     A\'e  see,  day  by  day,  how  love  is 
 destroying,  one  by  one,  the  enemies  of  human  happiness,  and  how  it  takes 
 away  the  sting  of  those  troubles  which  we  have  not  yet  learned  to  extir- 
 pate.    Love  is  evidently  bestowed  upon  us  in  order  to  arm  us  against  the 
 foes  of  pain  and  sin,  Avhich  we  have  to  fight.     Love  is  the  mighty  con- 
 queror of  the  world's  evil.     God  has  put  love  into  our  hearts  in  order  that 
 we  may  do  our  duty  to  each  other,  that  every  one   shall  have,  not  only 
 his  rights,   but  a  wealth  of  happiness  into  the  bargain  ;  that  envy,  and 
 jealousy,  and  strife,  shall  cease  ;  that  we  may  live  for  each  other,  and  not 
 for  ourselves.     He  has  given  us  love  in  order  that  the  fulfilment  of  our 
 natural  duties  may  be  a  delight  to  us  ;  that  we  may  choose  duty  freely,  and 
 not  bo  driven  to  it  like  slaves ;  that  in  the  most  pure  and  unselfish  devo- 
 tion to  others  we  may  find  our  highest  happiness.     We  all  know  more  or 
 less  of  this  love,  which  we  may  well  call  Divine,  because  it  is  so  supreme 
 over  all  else  that  is  human.     And  shall  we  be  so  blind,  so  silly,  as  to  sup- 
 pose that  our  Maker  is  lacking  in  this — the  noblest  quality  of  our  nature? 
 While  we  attribute  to  Him  intelligence  by  proof  of  our  reason,  and  right- 
 eousness by  the  testimony  of  our  conscience,  shall  we  doubt  that  He  has 
 love — which  even  we  poor  worms  of  the  earth  feel  and  enjoy  ?     If  God 
 have  no  love,  then  indeed  is  He  sunk   below  the  level  of  man  ;  and  the 
 vastness  of  His   cosmos,   and  the  order  and  beauty  of  it  all  count  for 
 nothing  beside  the  love  which  flows  from  the  human  heart.     The  idea  is 
 too  absurd  to  dwell  upon.     If  there  be  a  God,  He  must  be  infinitely  more 
 loving  to  us  than  a  mother  to  her  babe,  and  will  always  seek  our  good  and 
 only  good,  and  our  highest  good;  and  to  Him  the  exercise  of  His  Fatherly 
 love  must  ever  be  the  unspeakable  joy  in  which  He  lives  and  reigns. 
 
 Thus  is  the  Theist  taught  by  what  is  best  in  himself  to  think  more 
 
62S  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 grandly  and  nobly  of  God  than  has  been  hitherto  taught  by  any  other 
 religion  in  the  world  save  one.  That  one  is  the  Theism  which  we  find 
 embedded  in  some  of  the  writings  of  the  Hebrew  Psalmists  and  Prophets, 
 who,  protesting  against  the  Levitical  and  popular  creeds  of  their  day,  as 
 we  protest  against  the  Christian  and  popular  creeds  of  our  own,  discovered 
 for  themselves  these  simple  and  sublime  truths  about  God  by  the  exercise 
 of  their  own  native  faculties.  And  if  we  go  through  the  world,  we  shall 
 find  the  same  beautiful  truths  everywhere  revealed  to  men,  nominally  of 
 all  creeds,  who  have  surrendered  themselves  to  the  guidance  of  Reason, 
 Conscience,  and  Love  within  them.  Theism,  then,  is  a  belief  in  a  wise, 
 righteous,  and  loving  Father,  in  whose  wisdom,  righteousness,  and  ever- 
 lasting love  we  can  entirely  trust  with  an  absolute  certainty  that  all  the 
 past,  present,  and  future  are  working  out  issues  that  shall  be  only  good — 
 good  for  all,  and  good  for  each ;  good  for  every  soul  which  He  has  be- 
 gotten :  so  that  there  will  come  a  time  when  every  creature  endowed  with 
 consciousness,  memory,  and  aspiration  shall  be  satisfied  and  give  Him 
 thanks  for  all  that  they  have  been,  and  for  all  that  they  are.  This  is  a 
 belief  against  which  no  human  heart  can  recoil.  Every  man  Avould  wish 
 it  to  be  true  :  only  the  whisper  of  doubt  and  fear  mutters,  "  It  is  too  good 
 to  be  true."  The  Theist  says,  "  Nothing  is  too  good  to  be  true."  jMan,^ 
 at  his  best,  cannot  rise  so  high  as  the  height  to  which  (iod's  greater  love 
 will  hereafter  carry  him. 
 
 And  now  I  ask  you  to  turn  and  look  at  the  natural  and  reasonable  con- 
 sequences of  such  a  belief  First,  it  draws  our  hearts  towards  God  in  trust 
 and  love.  We  are  made  patient  by  it,  and  willing  to  hear  what  happens, 
 because  it  is  of  God's  sending.  If  it  be  conquerable,  we  do  our  utmost  to 
 get  rid  of  it,  seeing  it  is  (]od's  will  that  we  should  resist  it.  All  trouble  is 
 given  to  us  to  fight  with  and  to  reduce  to  its  lowest  power  of  injury.  Only 
 when  we  see  the  trouble  to  be  incurable  and  inevitable,  then  we  must  bear 
 it  patiently  and  manfully.  But  whatever  it  be,  we  see  that  it  is  sent  in 
 love,  and  is  designed  to  do  us  good,  and  is  sure  to  do  us  good  and  be 
 the  best  for  us  in  the  end.  Thus  we  con([uer  all  the  troubles  and  ills  of 
 life  through  trusting  in  a  righteous  and  loving  God.  More  important  still 
 is  the  fact  that  knowing  God  to  be  to  us  all  a  loving  Father,  our  hearts 
 are  drawn  towards  Him  in  filial  affection  and  earnest  desire  to  do  only 
 what  He  wishes  us  to  do,  and  forsake  all  that  we  feel  to  be  wrong.  This 
 trust  in  and  love  of  God  therefore  ensures  our  faithful  duty  to  each  other, 
 and  we  try  to  cultivate  both  conscientiousness  and  brotherly  love.  By  our 
 love  to  God  we  are  stirred  up  to  desire  intensely  purity  of  heart  and  mo- 
 tives, to  be  true  and  good  where  no  eye  can  see,  no  human  voice  applaud, 
 no  human  judgment  condemn.  The  man  who  prays  to  God  to  give  him  a 
 clean  heart  and  a  right  spirit  is  far  more  likely  to  serve  well  as  a  man  and 
 a  brother  than  he  who  has  no  such  desires  at  all. 
 
 Again,  the  love  of  God  as  a  Father  teaches  that  we  are  all  brethren,  and 
 that  all  alike  are  His  dear  children,  those  we  call  the  bad  as  well  as  those 
 
 i 
 
THEISM,  629 
 
 we  call  the  good,  and  therefore  we  must  be,  like  Him,  loving  unto  all  and 
 turn  our  backs  on  none.  All  will  have  to  be  cured  of  their  evil  at  last. 
 And  so  this  teaches  the  true  nature  of  the  Divine  punishments.  No  sin  is 
 ever  passed  over  with  impunity,  but  strictly  meets  with  its  due  penalty — 
 never  for  vengeance,  but  always  for  correction  and  cleansing.  The  true 
 Theist  is  the  last  man  to  say  or  to  feel  that  because  all  men  are  safe  in 
 <jod's  hands,  therefore  we  may  do  as  we  like  and  sin  with  impunity.  We 
 say  God's  punishment  is  never  to  be  evaded,  as  it  is  said  to  be,  by  atone- 
 ment and  the  Christian  scheme  of  salvation.  We  make  our  own  roads  of 
 woe  or  bliss  longer  or  shorter,  more  painful  or  more  blissful,  by  every 
 thought,  word,  or  deed.  But  Theism  gives  what  God  has  given  a  right  to 
 all  to  have  and  to  enjoy — undying  hope  of  being  cleansed  and  made  right- 
 eous and  loving  at  the  last.  Some  day  in  God's  good  time  His  work  will 
 be  perfected  in  us  all. 
 
 It  is  fitting  that  I  should  bring  these  remarks  to  a  close  by  stating  the 
 grounds  on  which  the  Theist  believes  in  immortality.  We  pass  by  all  the 
 commonplaces  of  ground  for  the  hope  to  which  so  many  cling,  such  as  the 
 universal  aspiration  for  life  after  death  and  the  tender  affections  which  are 
 so  grievously  wounded  by  the  separation  from  those  we  love.  We  pass 
 by  also  the  ridiculous  nonsense  about  "the  resurrection  of  the  body 
 through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  Our  sole  ground  of  hope  that  we  cannot 
 die  is  in  the  Fatherly  love  of  (iod  towards  us  all.  If  He  loves  us,  He  will 
 never  consent  to  part  with  us.  If  He  will  part  with  us,  if  He  wants  us  no 
 more,  He  cannot  love  us,  and  there  is  an  end  of  our  love  and  trust.  I 
 might  reverently  say,  an  end  to  Him,  too,  for  man's  heart  can  only  love  a 
 loving  God.  This  is  enough  on  which  to  base  the  hope  of  immortality — 
 simply  the  love  of  God  towards  us,  as  great  as,  nay,  infinitely  greater  than, 
 our  love  to  each  other.  It  is  a  hope  only,  because  we  have  not  been  be- 
 hind the  veil  of  mortal  death.  But  it  is  a  hope  amounting  to  a  certainty, 
 for  it  is  a  definite  corollary  from  our  belief  in  God  Himself.  It  is  also  a 
 hope  without  any  anxiety  or  necessity  to  know  any  of  the  conditions  of 
 that  future  life.  We  trust  God's  love  so  entirely  and  with  such  perfect 
 peace  that  we  do  not  want  to  know  beforehand  anything  which  He  is  not 
 willing  to  tell  us.  Whatever  it  be,  it  will  be  the  best  for  us ;  and  what 
 His  wisdom  and  love  devise  is  sure  to  satisfy  us.  But  we  micst  have  it. 
 We  must  live  again,  unless  there  be  no  God  to  love  and  to  live  for,  in 
 which  case,  speaking  for  myself,  I  would  rather  not  try  so  dangerous  an 
 experiment.     I  would  prefer  to  be  extinguished. 
 
 I  hope  I  have  not  taxed  your  patience  too  severely.  My  object  will 
 have  been  attained  if  you  go  away  with  a  clear  idea  that  Theists  believe  in 
 one  (absolutely  undefined,  non-material)  Being  who,  in  our  poor  language, 
 is  the  Author  of  our  lives  and  the  Father  of  our  souls — so  wise,  so  cap- 
 able, so  righteous,  and  so  loving  that  all  the  sons  of  men  may  put  their 
 trust  in  Him  without  one  spark  of  doubt  or  fear  ;  that  He  is  known  to  us 
 as  this  trustworthy  loving  God  by  the  highest  faculties  of  our  own  nature, 
 
630  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 which,  as  Fatlier,  He  has  transmitted  to  us  in  order  that  we  might  know 
 sufficient  of  what  He  is,  and  so  come  to  love  Him,  and  willingly  out  of 
 love  fulfil  our  duties  to  each  other,  and  love  them  with  a  pure  heart  fer- 
 vently. 
 
 This  belief— a  practical  religion  and  not  a  mere  intellectual  conception 
 — will  alone  enable  us  to  explain  the  great  problems  of  life  and  help  us  to 
 bear  its  troubles,  while  it  ennol)les  all  our  pleasures  and  heightens  all  our 
 joys,  gives  patience  and  fortitude  in  life,  and  sweet  peace  and  brightest 
 hope  in  the  hour  of  death.  It  is  a  Gospel  worthy  of  the  song  of  angels 
 and  archangels  : — 
 
 "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good  will  toward 
 
 man." 
 
631 
 
 MYSTICISM.' 
 
 Bv  W.  S.  Lii.LV. 
 
 I  PROPOSE  in  this  article  to  tell  you  a  little  about  Mysticism.  Many 
 people  in  the  world,  perhaps  most,  would  regard  this  as  equivalent  to  an 
 announcement  that  I  am  going  to  talk  nonsense.  Mr.  Carlyle  has  some- 
 where remarked  that  when  a  man  speaks  to  us  about  a  matter  which  is  foreign 
 to  our  usual  thoughts,  we  are  apt,  in  self-defence  as  it  were,  to  label  him 
 a  mystic,  by  which  we  mean  privately — even  if  we  are  too  polite  to  say  so 
 openly — a  dunce.  Should  there  be  any  here  who,  at  the  outset,  are  in- 
 clined to  regard  me  with  this  sort  of  suspicion,  let  me  beg  of  them  to  be 
 patient  awhile.  I  sliall  hope  to  show  them  before  I  have  done  that  Mysti- 
 cism, so  far  from  being  nonsense,  is  the  highest  and  best  sense. 
 
 Now,  we  English  like  to  go  by  the  facts.  To  do  so,  we  are  assured  on 
 all  hands,  is  the  one  path  of  safety.  I  am  not  disposed  to  deny  that ;  only 
 I  claim  to  take  in  all  the  facts,  and  not  one  class  only  arbitrarily  selected. 
 Let  us  go  by  experience  by  all  means.  But  we  must  take  the  totality  of 
 experience.  Let  us  consider,  then,  a  little  the  facts  of  life — of  everyday 
 life — as  we  all  lead  it.  I  remember  some  verses  of  Matthew  Arnold — they 
 come  from  his  very  beautiful  poem  Rugby  Chapel — which  give  a  striking 
 picture  of  that  everyday  life  : — 
 
 "What  is  the  course  of  the  life 
 Of  mortal  men  on  the  earth  ? 
 Most  men  eddy  about 
 Here  and  there — eat  and  drink, 
 Chatter  and  love  and  hate, 
 Gather  and  squander,  are  raised 
 Aloft,  are  hurled  in  the  dust, 
 Striving  blindly,   achieving 
 Nothing ;  and  then  they  die — 
 Perish  !  and  no  one  asks 
 ^\'ho  or  what  they  have  been  ; 
 INIore  than  he  asks  what  waves 
 In  the  moonlit  solitude  wild 
 Of  the  midmost  ocean  have  swelled, 
 Foamed  for  a  moment,  and  gone." 
 
 '  When  I  was  asked  to  address  the  South  Place  Institute  on  Mysticism,  I  was  not  aware 
 that  it  was  intended  to  publish  my  words,  and  so  I  did  not  reduce  to  writing  what  I  pro- 
 posed to  say.  The  following  pages,  dictated  from  memory  subsequently  to  the  delivery 
 of  my  lecture,  give,  I  believe,  a  tolerably  close  account  of  it.  I  ought  to  remark  that  I 
 employ  the  term  Mysticism,  not  in  the  proper  theological  sense,  but  in  the  popular  sense 
 — put  upon  it,  as  I  suppose,  by  those  who  invited  me  to  speak— the  sense,  namely,  of 
 sitpcrseusnoHs  knowledge.  No  one  can  regret  more  than  I  the  confusion  of  tongues  which 
 prevails  here,  as  elsewhere,  in  the  terminology  of  the  present  day.  A  feeling  of  the  In- 
 finite is  one  thing  ;  a  cognition  is  another. 
 
632  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 How  true  a  picture  it  is  of  the  lives  of  most  !  How  true,  in  different 
 degrees,  of  the  lives  of  all  I  What  "  a  poor  play,"  as  another  poet  of  a 
 different  order  has  told  us,  life  is,  if  we  look  upon  it  in  its  merely  material 
 aspects  !  "  Doth  not  our  life  consist  of  the  four  elements  ?  "  asks  Sir  Toby, 
 in  Tivelfth  Night.  "  Nay,"  replies  Sir  Andrew  Aguecheek,  "  I  think  it 
 consists  rather  of  eating  and  drinking."  This  witness  is  true.  Deeply 
 corporealized,  imprisoned  by  the  senses,  we  resemble  those  unhappy  men 
 of  whom  Plato  tells  us  in  his  famous  apologue,  which  I  dare  say  many  of 
 you  remember.  There  they  sit,  and  have  sat  since  childhood,  those  miser- 
 able captives,  in  their  underground  cavernous  prison,  with  no  opening  save 
 one  above  towards  the  light,  fast  bound  in  misery  and  iron,  not  able  so  much 
 as  to  turn  their  heads  round,  and  so  seeing  nothing  but  what  is  straight  be- 
 fore them.  At  a  distance  above  and  behind  them,  a  bright  tire  burns,  and 
 between  the  fire  and  the  prisoners  there  is  a  raised  way,  with  a  low  wall 
 built  along  it,  like  the  screens  which  the  marionette  players  in  ancient 
 (ireece  put  up  in  front  of  their  audiences,  and  above  which  they  were  wont 
 to  display  their  puppets.  Behind  this  wall,  walk  a  number  of  persons  bear- 
 ing vessels  and  images  of  wood  and  stone  and  various  other  materials, 
 talking  as  they  go ;  and  the  captives,  sitting  without  the  power  of  turning 
 their  heads,  see  their  own  shadows — which  is  all  they  see  of  themselves  and 
 each  other — and  the  shadows  cast  by  these  objects  upon  the  part  of  the 
 cavern  facing  them,  and  hear  the  voices  thence  reverberated,  for  there  is  an 
 echo  in  their  prison-house.  And  they  refer  these  voices,  not  to  the  unseen 
 passers-by,  of  whom  they  have  no  knowledge,  but  to  the  passing  shadows, 
 which  they  take  for  realities.  Strange  and  weird  conception  !  P.ut  how 
 true  an  image  of  human  life  until  we  are  enfranchised  from  the  chains  of 
 sense.  Yes ;  Emerson  has  well  said,  in  words  which  may  fitly  serve  as  the 
 interpretation  of  this  Platonic  parable  :  "  Indeed,  we  are  but  shadows,  we 
 are  not  endowed  with  real  life,  and  all  that  seems  most  real  about  us  is  but 
 the  thinnest  substance  of  a  dream,  till  the  heart  be  touched.  That  touch 
 creates  us  :  then  we  begin  to  be ;  thereby  we  are  beings  of  reality  and  in- 
 heritors of  Eternity."'  "  Until  the  heart  le  toiichcJ.^'  It  is  that  touch  that 
 sets  us  free ;  which  rids  us  of  illusions  about  the  make  and  matter  of  the 
 phenomenal  world ;  which  reveals  to  us  what  I  may  call  the  ideal — the  real 
 being  of  a  thing  which  causes  it  to  be  what  it  is. 
 
 Now  this  touch  of  the  heart  may  <  ome  to  us  in  many  ways.  I  remember 
 vividly  how,  in  an  autumn  which  seems  as  I  speak  to  rise  before  me  across 
 the  gulf  of  years,  in  all  its  sadness  and  sweetness,  nature  was  first  revealed 
 to  me  as  a  living  reality  ;  a  spirit  speaking  to  my  spirit ;  "  a  presence  that 
 is  not  to  be  ])ut  by."  I  can  see  now  those  magnificent  woods  through 
 which  I  wandered,  finding  for  the  first  time  "tongues  in  the  trees,  books 
 in  the  running  brooks  "  ;  hearing  for  the  first  time  in  the  moaning  of  the 
 winds  the  elegy  of  the  dying  year — nay,  the  burial  hymn  of  the  world  ; 
 reading  for  the  first  time  the  high  moralities,  the  "  thoughts  that  do  lie 
 too  deep  for  tears  "  inscribed  on  the  falling  leaves  and  the  fading  flowers. 
 
MYSTICISM.  633 
 
 I  dare  say  many  in  this  room  can  remember  a  like  awakening  of  their  own 
 inner  life  ;  and  can  enter  into  what  Amiel  has  expressed  in  a  very  fine 
 passage,  which  came  into  my  mind  as  I  was  sitting  this  morning  in  my 
 library,  thinking  about  what  I  should  say  to  you  this  afternoon.  Writing 
 at  Lancy,  in  the  early  spring  of  1852,  he  exclaims  :  "  How  are  all  things 
 transfigured  at  a  moment  like  this  !  The  world  is  an  allegory  ;  the  ideal 
 is  more  real  than  any  fact.  Fairy  tales  and  legends  are  as  true  as  natural 
 history ;  nay,  truer,  for  as  emblems  they  are  more  transparent.  The  only 
 substance  is  the  soul.  What  are  all  other  things?  Shadow,  pretence, 
 figure,  symbol,  and  dream.  C'onsciousness  alone  is  immortal,  objective, 
 utterly  real.  The  world  is  but  a  pyrotechnic  display,  a  sublime  panorama, 
 intended  to  delight  and  educate  the  soul.  Consciousness  is  a  universe  of 
 which  the  soul  is  love." 
 
 Let  me  in  this  connection  turn  to  a  great  English  poet — great  not  only 
 in  his  inspiration,  but  in  his  sobriety — who,  more  perhaps  than  any  other 
 poet,  has  reafized  the  occult  sympathy  between  the  human  soul  and 
 external  nature.  There  is  a  fine  passage  in  his  "  Excursion,"  which  1  must 
 take  leave  to  quote  : — 
 
 "Such  was  the  boy — but  for  the  growing  youlh 
 What  soul  was  liis,  when,  from  the  naked  top 
 Of  some  bold  headland,  he  beheld  the  sun 
 Rise  up,  and  bathe  the  world  in  light  !     lie  looked — 
 Ocean  and  earth,  the  solid  frame  of  earth 
 -Vnd  ocean's  liquid  mass,   in  gladness  lay 
 Beneaili  him. — Far  and  wide  the  clouds  were  touched, 
 And  in  their  silent  faces  could  he  read 
 Unutterable  love.     Sound  needed  none. 
 Nor  any  voice  of  joy  ;  his  spirit  drank 
 The  spectacle  :  sensation,  soul,  and  form. 
 All  melted  into  him  ;  they  swallowed  u]) 
 His  animal  being;  in  them  did  he  live. 
 And  by  them  did  he  live  ;  tliey  were  liis  life. 
 In  such  access  of  mind,  in  such  high  hour 
 Of  visitation  from  the  living  God, 
 Thought  was  not ;  in  enjoyment  it  expired. 
 No  thanks  he  breathed,   he  proffered  no  request  ; 
 Kapt  into  still  communion  that  transcends 
 The  imperfect  offices  of  jirayer  and  praise. 
 His  mind  was  a  thanksgiving  to  the  power 
 That  made  him  :  it  was  blessedness  and  love  ! " 
 
 So  much  for  External  Nature  as  an  instrument  potent  to  touch  the  heart, 
 as  a  revealing  agency,  as  a  path  into  the  transcendental,  "  as  a  means 
 through  which  the  Deity  who  works  unseen  behind  it,  pours  trust  and  love 
 which  transform  our  own  capabilities  into  realities."  And  now  let  us  turn 
 to  Art,  for  which  I  claim  the  same  high  function.  W'e  rightly  talk  of 
 artistic  inspiration.  The  true  artist  is  a  seer.  He  is  the  man  whose  eyes 
 are  opened.  The  aim  of  the  artist  is  to  body  forth,  whatever  be  the  instru- 
 ment with  which  he  works — be  it  the  brush,  the  chisel,  "  the  concord  of 
 sweet  sounds,"  or  "ordered  words" — to  body  forth  something  whicli  he 
 discerns  in  the  "'  high  reason  of  his  fancies  "  more  clearly  than  other  men. 
 
634  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 I  do  not  know  who  has  better  brought  out  tliis  truth  than  Schopenhauer — 
 one  of  the  finest  and  subtlest  thinkers  of  the  age,  however  much  his  sys- 
 tem, as  a  whole,  may  repel  us.  The  function  of  Art  he  considers  is  the 
 deliverance  of  men  from  the  chain  of  vulgar  realities  which  binds  us  to  the 
 phenomenal  world,  by  presenting  the  things  that  have  veritable  being, 
 the  permanent  essential  forms,  immutable,  and  ever  true.  Thus  do  I  ac- 
 count of  Art  in  general,  and  of  its  high  function  in  the  life  of  man.  I  can 
 but  glance  at  the  subject  and  pass  on.  IJut  let  me,  before  I  do  pass  on. 
 read  to  you  the  august  words  in  which  the  greatest  living  master  of  our 
 language  has  expressed  this  view  about  one  of  the  Arts — Music  : — 
 
 "  Let  us  take  another  instance,"  says  Cardinal  Newman,  "  of  an  out- 
 ward and  earthly  form,  or  economy,  under  which  great  wonders  unknown 
 seem  to  be  typified  ;  I  mean  musical  sounds,  as  they  are  exhibited  most 
 perfectly  in  instrumental  harmony.  There  are  seven  notes  in  the  scale  : 
 make  them  fourteen,  yet  what  a  slender  outfit  for  so  vast  an  enterprise  ! 
 AVhat  science  brings  so  much  out  of  so  little  ?  Out  of  what  poor  elements 
 does  some  great  master  in  it  create  his  new  world  !  Shall  we  say  that 
 all  this  exuberant  inventiveness  is  a  mere  ingenuity  or  trick  of  art,  like 
 some  game  or  fashion  of  the  day,  without  reality  and  without  meaning  ? 
 We  may  do  so.  To  many  men  the  very  names  which  the  science  employs 
 are  utterly  incomprehensible.  To  speak  of  an  idea  or  a  subject  seems 
 to  be  fanciful  or  trifling,  to  speak  of  the  views  which  it  opens  upon  us  to 
 be  childish  extravagance ;  yet  is  it  possible  that  that  inexhaustible  evolu- 
 tion and  disposition  of  notes,  so  rich  yet  so  simple,  so  intricate  yet  so 
 regulated,  so  various  yet  so  majestic,  should  be  a  mere  sound,  which  is 
 gone,  and  perishes  ?  "  Can  it  be  that  those  mysterious  stirrings  of  heart, 
 and  keen  emotions,  and  strange  yearnings  after  we  know  not  what,  and 
 awful  impressions  from  we  know  not  whence,  should  be  wrought  in  us  by 
 what  is  unsubstantial,  and  comes  and  goes,  and  begins  and  ends,  in 
 itself?  It  is  not  so;  it  cannot  be.  No,  they  have  escaped  from  some 
 higher  sphere ;  they  arc  the  outpourings  of  eternal  harmony  in  the 
 medium  of  created  sound  ;  they  are  echoes  from  our  home  ;  they  are 
 the  voice  of  angels,  or  the  Magnificat  of  saints,  or  the  living  laws  of 
 Divine  governance,  or  the  Divine  attributes ;  something  are  they  besides 
 themselves  which  we  cannot  compass,  which  we  cannot  utter." 
 
 I  go  on  to  another  instrument  of  our  emancipation  —  Philosophy. 
 Now  the  very  object  of  all  i'hilosophy  worthy  of  that  august  name  is  the 
 supersensuous.  A  mere  system  of  speculative  physics — like,  let  me  say, 
 Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's — however  ingenious  and  interesting,  I  cannot 
 account  of  as  Philosophy  at  all.  Philosophy  is  a  theory  of  being,  of 
 speculative  thought  :  its  proper  object  to  contemplate  the  world  as  a 
 manifestation  of  spirit.  As  Hartmann  truly  says,  it  is  essentially  con- 
 cerned with  the  one  feeling  only  to  be  mystically  apprehended,  namely, 
 the   relation    of  the    individual    with    the    Absolute.      Its    very    function 
 
MYSTICISM.  635 
 
 is  to  raise  man  above  the  self  of  the  senses  and  animal  nature  to  approxi- 
 mate him  to  the  Divine.  Hence  Aristotle,  in  speaking  the  praises  of 
 the  life  philosophic,  is  led  to  say  :  "  If  the  gods  in  any  way  concern  them- 
 selves with  human  affairs,  as  is  indeed  held  to  be  the  case,  it  is  but 
 reasonable  to  suppose  that  they  should  take  pleasure  in  that  which  is  of 
 all  things  the  highest  and  the  most  akin  to  the  Divine  nature  ;  that  is  to 
 say,  the  reason  :  and  that  to  those  who  gi  ve  all  their  love  to  this,  and 
 hold  it  in  the  highest  honour,  they  should  make  some  return  of  kindness, 
 upon  the  ground  that  such  men  bestow  their  care  upon  that  which  they 
 themselves  hold  dear,  and  that  they  act  rightly  herein  and  nobly.  Now 
 that  it  is  of  the  philosopher  that  all  this  is  pre-eminently  true  is  almost 
 self-evident." 
 
 I  must  not  dwell  further  upon  this  high  matter.  Let  me  go  on  to 
 another  portal  into  the  transcendental  :  those  Emotions  and  Sentiments 
 of  Human  Nature  which  are  really  symbols  of  something  deeper :  accord- 
 ing to  that  fine  saying  of  St.  Bernard,  "  The  more  I  know  of  myself,  the 
 more  I  know  of  God."  Take  the  passion  of  love,  for  example,  the  most 
 masterful  and  the  most  universal  of  all.  I  do  not  speak  of  that  merely 
 animal  impulse  which  man  has  in  common  with  moths  and  moUusca ; 
 but  of  love,  as  it  actually  exists  among  civilized  men  and  women,  trans- 
 formed, in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  by  the  imaginative  faculty.  Well,  what 
 an  instrument  of  emancipation  from  the  senses  love  is  ! 
 
 "     .     .     .     for  indeed  I  know 
 Of  no  more  subtle  master  uniler  heaven 
 Than  is  the  maiden  passion  for  a  maid  ; 
 Not  only  to  keep  down  the  base  in  man, 
 But  teach  high  thoughts  and  amiable  words, 
 And  love  of  truth,  and  all  that  makes  a  man." 
 
 "To  keep  down  the  base,  to  teach  high  thoughts."  Yes.  Love  lifts  us 
 above  self.  It  opens  for  us  the  gates  of  the  transcendental  world.  And 
 so  of  other  human  emotions.  Terror,  like  love,  lets  us  into  infinity.  The 
 effect  of  tragedy,  the  Greek  philosophers  held,  was  thus  to  work  an 
 intellectual  purgation.  "The  dramatist  shows  us  some  elemental  force  of 
 humanity,  stripped  of  the  accidents  of  time  and  place,  working  itself 
 out  in  free  conflict  with  other  forces,  and  finally  breaking  itself  against 
 the  eternal  fact  tliat  no  man  can  gain  the  world  without  losing  himself.  It 
 is  this  catastrophe  which  makes  the  real  tragedy  of  life  ;  it  is  this  that 
 the  tragic  poet  has  the  eye  to  see  and  the  words  to  portray ;  and  in  pro- 
 portion as  we  follow  him  in  imagination,  we  come  away  from  the  spectacle 
 with  our  hearts  broken  and  purged,  strengthened  to  face  the  fact  and 
 obey  the  law."  I  may  affirm  the  same  even  more  strongly  of  sorrow : 
 "'Tis  said  that  sorrow  makes  us  wise."  It  is  a  great  sacrament  :  the  out- 
 ward visible  sign  of  an  inward  spiritual  grace  whereby  we  are  taken — if 
 but  for  a  moment — beyond  the  veil.  When  we  are  led  to  submit  our  will 
 to  the   Divine  Goodness,  trusting  it  in   the  dark,  we  break  through  into 
 
636  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 Eternity  ;  we  are  at  one  with  the  Secret  Power  which  dwells  there,  and 
 holds  up  and  disposes  all  things,  sweetly  and  strongly.  This  is  the  core  of 
 nature  which,  as  Goethe  says,  must  be  looked  for  in  a  man's  heart.  This 
 is  the  Everlasting  Yea. 
 
 But  of  course  the  most  universal  instrument  to  touch  the  heart,  and  to 
 awaken  in  us  the  life  of  the  spirit,  is   Religion.     Cardinal   Newman  has 
 said  with  much  happiness  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  false  religion, 
 whatever  the  amount  of  error  which   may  be  mixed   up  with  any.     All 
 religions  have  done  something  to  lift   man  above  the  senses,  to  idealize 
 life.     Is    it    possible    to   conceive    of  anything    more    distasteful    to    the 
 thoughtful    and    cultivated    than    the    blood-and-fire    gospel    which    the 
 Salvationists  howl  through  the  streets  of  our  cities,  making  day  hideous  ? 
 Yet  I,  for  my  part,  wish  these  noisy  fanatics  God-speed,  although  I  should 
 be  glad  if  they  could  do  their  work  more  melodiously.     They  touch  the 
 hearts  of  thousands  who  else  would  live  merely  animal  lives — nay,  lives 
 below  the  level  of  the  animals.     They  open  for  them  the  world  of  Spirit 
 and  Deity,  however  coarse  and  grimy  their  keys.     It  seems  to  me  that 
 the  proper  attitude  to  what  we  deem  popular  superstition  is  well  indicated 
 by    Mr.   Herbert  Spencer  :  "  Through  the  great  body  of  dogmas,    tradi- 
 tions, and  rites,  a  soul  of  truth  is  always  visible,  clearly  or  dimly  as  the 
 case  may  be.     .     .     .     Though  from   higher  perceptions  they  hide  the 
 abstract  verity  within   them,    yet    to  lower  perceptions    they  render  this 
 verity  more  appreciable  than  it  would  otherwise  be.     They  serve  to  make 
 real  and  influential  over  men  that  which  would  otherwise  be  unreal  and 
 uninfluential.     Or  we  may  call    them   the  protective   envelopes,  without 
 which   the   contained   truth   would   die ;     .     .     .     modes    of  the   mani- 
 festation of    The    Unknowable,    and  as  having  this    for    their  warrant." 
 Zeal  against  superstition  1     Good,  if  usually  a  trifle  ridiculous.     But  super- 
 stition is  not  the  worst  of  errors.     Take  care  that  while  you  root  up  the 
 tares   you  do   not  root  uj)  the  wheat  also  ;  that  in  trying  to  purify  the 
 popular  belief  you  do  not  destroy  it.     Tliere  is  in  the  Mesnevi  Sheriif  of 
 jelalu-'d-l)in,   the   illustrious   Saint  and    Doctor  of  Islam,  a  striking  and 
 pathetic  story,  in  which   this  great  lesson,  so  little  apprehended  by  the 
 sectaries,  whether  of  Puritanism   or  of  Physics,  is  powerfully  inculcated. 
 "  Moses,"  we  read,  "  in  his  wanderings  in   the  wilderness,  came  upon  a 
 shepherd,  who  was  praying  to  God  in   the  fervour  of  his  soul,  and  saying 
 'Oil,  my  Master,  my  Lord,  would  that  I  knew  where  I  might  find  Thee, 
 and  become  Thy  servant.     Would  that  I  might  tie  thy  shoe-latchet,  and 
 comb  Thy  hair,  and   wasli   Thy  robes,  and  kiss  Thy   beautiful   feet,  and 
 sweep  Thy  chamber,  and   serve  the  milk  of  my  goats   to  Thee  for  whom 
 my  heart  crieth  out.'     And  the  anger  of  Moses  was  kindled,  and  he  said 
 to  the  shepherd,  'Thou  blasphemest.     The  Most  High  has  no  body,  and 
 no    need    of  clothing,    nor   of  nourishment,  nor   of  a  cliamber,  nor  of  a 
 domestic ;  thou    art   an    infidel.'     And    the    heart   of    the    shepherd    was 
 darkened,  for  he  could  make  to  himself  no  image  of  one  without  bodily 
 
MYSTICISM.  637 
 
 form  and  corporal  wants  :  and  he  gave  himself  up  to  despair,  and  ceased 
 to  serve  God.  And  God  spake  unto  Moses,  and  said,  '  Why  hast  thou 
 driven  My  servant  away  from  Me  ?  Every  man  has  received  from  Mc 
 his  mode  of  being,  his  way  of  speech.  ^Vl1at  is  evil  in  thee,  is  good  in 
 another.  What  is  poison  to  thee,  is  honey  to  him.  AVords  are  nothing 
 to  Me.  I  regard  the  heart.  The  compass  serves  only  to  direct  the 
 prayers  of  those  who  are  without  the  Kebeh.  Within,  no  one  knows  the 
 use  of  it.'  "  Such  is  the  apologue  of  the  great  Sufi,  and  surely  it  is  well 
 worth  i)ondering.  W'c  are  too  apt  to  undervalue  that  exceeding  great 
 multitude  of  peojile  who  are  simply  good  and  religious-minded,  wholly 
 undisturbed  by  the  anxious  questionings  which  shake  the  world.  They 
 are  not  intellectually  considerable ;  mostly  fools,  perhaps.  \'es.  But 
 diviner  lips  than  Carlyle's  have  said,  "  Take  heed  that  ye  despise  not  one 
 of  these  little  ones."  "Babes  and  sucklings  :"  I  grant  it.  But  to  them 
 are  revealed  things  hidden  from  the  wise  and  prudent.  In  the  house  of 
 the  Father  of  spirits  are  many  mansions.  And  let  not  him  who  dwells  in 
 the  icinpla  serena  of  elevated  thougtit  despise  the  fetish-worshippers 
 before  their  shrines,  the  Peculiar  people  in  their  tabernacles,  the  Salva 
 tionists  in  their  "  barracks."  Unconsciously,  passively,  they,  it  may  well 
 be,  possess  that  higher  synthesis  after  which  we  so  passionately  toil,  where 
 the  problems  which  i)erplex  us  melt  into  floating  clouds,  as  we  stand  for  a 
 moment  above  them  in  sunshine  and  serene  air. 
 
 I  have  spoken  to  )ou  of  External  Nature,  of  Art,  of  Philosophy,  of 
 Human  Emotions,  of  Religion,  as  all  instruments  potent  to  touch  the 
 heart,  to  open  the  portals  of  the  transcendental  world.  Now  what  is 
 the  issue  of  all  this  ?  The  issue  is  the  undoubted  fact  on  which  Mysticism 
 IS  built :  namely,  that  the  spirit  of  man  comes  in  contact  with  a  higher 
 spirit,  whose  manifestations  carry  with  them  their  own  proof  and  are 
 moral  in  their  nature,  out  of  time  and  place,  enlightening,  purifying,  and 
 therefore,  in  a  true  sense,  ascetic.  And  this  is  the  universal  mystic 
 element  in  religion,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word.  For  what  is  that 
 sense  ?  Not  a  concatenation  of  formulas,  or  a  tissue  of  speculations  ;  not 
 pulpit  eloquence,  hierarchical  domination,  the  greatest  happiness  of  the 
 greatest  number,  or  any  other  idol  of  the  den  or  the  market-place ;  but 
 the  true  tie  between  our  spirit  and  the  Father  of  our  spirits — a  trancen- 
 dental  mode  of  the  soul,  by  which  it  soars  into  the  Empyrean  and  is 
 brought  back  to  its  eternal  beginning.  This  Theism  of  the  natural  order, 
 if  you  like  so  to  call  it,  has  ten  thousand  sacraments,  infinite  and  ever  new 
 s}'mbols,  and  each  man  may  minister  at  its  altar.  This  is  what  I  mean  by 
 Mysticism ;  heart-religion  John  Wesley  called  .it.  In  this  heart-religion 
 every  great  faith  in  the  world  has  originated.  By  this  heart-religion 
 every  great  faith  lives.  When  this  heart-religion  dies  out  of  it,  its  work 
 is  done,  and  its  days  are  numbered  :  it  petrifies  into  mere  formalism. 
 And  then  it  falls  to  pieces,  and  its  place  knows  it  no  more.  Of  course  we 
 have  this  treasure  in  earthen  vessels.     But   the  treasure  is  there,  however 
 
6.38  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 poor  the  shrine.  Or,  to  change  the  metaphor  :  in  all  those  higher  faiths 
 which  perform  so  important  a  part  in  mystical  philosophy  and  theology, 
 there  is  a  true  light — the  light  of  life.  Earthborn  clouds  may  arise  and 
 obscure  or  distort  it.  But  it  is  there,  that  kindly  light,  guiding  men  on 
 amid  the  encircling  gloom. 
 
 So  much  may  suffice,  then,  to  vindicate  the  position  with  which  I  set 
 out — that  Mysticism  is  not  nonsense,  but  good  sense  ;  nay,  the  best.  And 
 now  the  clock  warns  me  that  I  have  already  trespassed  sufficiently  upon 
 your  patience.  There  are,  however,  just  a  very  few  practical  words  which 
 I  should  like  to  say  in  conclusion  about  the  abuse  and  the  use  of 
 Mysticism.  The  abuse  is  obvious.  Mysticism  is  an  experience  of  the 
 Infinite  as  real  as  that  experience  which  we  found  upon  the  knowledge  of 
 the  sensible  and  finite.  It  is  subject  to  the  same  laws  and  conditions  also, 
 to  the  limitations  of  our  nature  ;  and  therefore  may  issue  in  utter  mad- 
 ness or  gross  sensuality,  precisely  as  an  exclusive  study  of  material 
 phenomena  may  issue  in  degradation  of  the  intellect.  I  need  not  enlarge 
 upon  what  is  so  clear  in  itself,  and  is  so  sadly  illustrated  by  many  pages 
 of  history.  My  present  object  is  to  dwell  upon  it  in  its  normal  and 
 healthy  aspect  as  "  human  nature's  daily  food."  My  view  of  Alysticism, 
 then,  as  I  have  at  length  brought  out,  is  that  it  is  an  opening  of  the  eyes 
 of  the  soul, — a  deliverance  from  that  worst  captivity  when  the  mind 
 darkened  by  sense  becomes  "the  dungeon  of  itself."'  Whatever  be  the 
 instrument  of  our  emancipation,  the  effect  is  to  let  "  us  pent-up  creatures 
 through,  into  Eternity — our  due."  I  may  observe,  in  passing,  that  one 
 naturally  uses  the  words  of  the  poets  in  speaking  of  this  subject,  and  with 
 reason,  for  truth  has  two  languages — the  language  of  poetry  and  the 
 language  of  prose ;  but  the  language  of  poetry  is  the  most  august,  and  the 
 better  fitted  for  the  expression  of  the  higher  verities.  But  to  return.  I 
 take  the  office  of  Mysticism  to  be  this  :  to  conduct  us  from  the  pheno- 
 menal to  the  noumenal — from  that  which  seems,  to  that  which  is.  Now 
 what  is  that  which  is  but  truth,  justice,  love,  freedom,  all  different  aspects 
 of  one  thing  ;  nay,  I  venture  to  say  of  One  Person — the  Absolute  and 
 Eternal,  who  is  the  Supreme  Reason?  This  is  the  office,  then,  of 
 Mysticism,  to  enable  us  to  discern  that  Reason  which  is  at  the  heart  of 
 things  and  which  is  in  our  hearts,  to  realize  that  we  are  one  with  that 
 Transcendent  Ideal,  which  is  the  Supremely  Real ;  not  bone  of  His  bone 
 and  fiesh  of  His  flesh,  but — far  closer  union — reason  of  His  reason  and 
 spirit  of  His  Spirit.  This  is  the  light  of  life  ;  and  in  that  light  should  we 
 walk — as  children  of  the  light.  The  supremacy  of  that  Divine  gift 
 within  us,  speaking  to  our  heart,  through  our  conscience — this  is  the 
 conclusion  of  the  whole  matter.  It  is  the  conclusion  of  Philosophy, 
 which  finds  reason  the  highest  principle  in  the  universe.  It  is  the  con- 
 clusion of  Poetry,  which  finds  the  world  the  expression  of  reason.  It  is 
 the  conclusion  of  Jurisprudence,  which  finds  in  reason  the  regulating  prin- 
 ciple of  social  life.     Now  not  all  of  us  are  called  to  be  philosophers,  or 
 
MYSTICISM.  639 
 
 poets,  or  lawgivers ;  but  we  are  all  men  endowed  with  "  this  capability  and 
 Godlike  reason."  Let  it  not  "  fust  in  us  unused."  Est  Dens  in  nobis. 
 We  all  have  that  Divine  gift.  Marcus  Aurelius  calls  it  the  daimon — the 
 (Jeity — within  us.  Let  me  end  with  the  admirable  lesson  of  that  imperial 
 sage  who  has  shown  us  that  "  even  in  a  palace  life  may  be  well  led." 
 "  Live  with  the  gods.  And  he  does  live  with  the  gods  who  constantly 
 shows  to  them  that  his  own  soul  is  satisfied  with  that  which  is  assigned  to 
 him,  and  that  he  does  all  that  the  daimon  wishes  which  Zeus  has  assigned 
 to  every  man  for  his  guardian  and  guidance — a  portion  of  himself.  And 
 this  daimon  is  every  man's  understanding  and  reason." 
 
640 
 
 THEOSOPHY. 
 
 Bv  Annie  Besant. 
 
 Ix  dealing  with  a  great  theme  within  narrow  hmits  one  has  ahvay  to  make 
 a  clioice  of  evils  :  one  must  either  substantiate  each  point,  buttress  it  up 
 with  arguments,  and  thus  fail  to  give  any  roughly  complete  idea  of  the 
 whole  ;  or  one  must  make  an  outline  of  the  whole,  leaving  out  the  proofs 
 which  bring  conviction  of  the  truth  of  the  teaching.  As  the  main  object 
 of  this  paper  is  to  place  before  the  average  man  or  woman  an  idea  of 
 Theosophy  as  a  whole,  I  elect  to  take  the  inconvenience  of  the  latter 
 alternative,  and  use  the  expository  instead  of  the  controversial  method. 
 Those  who  are  sufficiently  interested  in  the  subject  to  desire  further  know- 
 ledge can  easily  pass  on  into  the  investigation  of  evidences,  evidences  that 
 are  within  the  reach  of  all  who  have  patience,  power  of  thought,  and 
 courage. 
 
 We,  who  are  Theosophists,  allege  that  there  exists  a  great  body  of 
 doctrines,  philosophical,  scientific,  and  ethical,  which  forms  the  basis  of, 
 and  includes  all  that  is  accurate  in,  the  philosophies,  sciences,  and  religions 
 of  the  ancient  and  modern  worlds.  This  body  of  doctrine  is  a  i)hilosophy 
 and  a  science  more  than  a  religion  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word,  for  it 
 does  not  impose  dogmas  as  necessary  to  be  believed  under  any  kind  of 
 supernatural  penalties,  as  do  the  various  Churches  of  the  world.  It  is 
 indeed  a  religion,  if  religion  be  the  binding  of  life  by  a  sublime  ideal ;  but 
 it  puts  forward  its  teachings  as  capable  of  demonstration,  not  on  authority 
 which  it  is  blasphemy  to  challenge  or  deny. 
 
 That  some  great  body  of  doctrine  did  exist  in  antiquity,  and  was  trans- 
 mitted from  generation  to  generation,  is  patent  to  an)-  investigator.  It  was 
 this  which  was  taught  in  the  IMysteries,  of  which  Dr.  ^Varburton  wrote  : 
 "  The  wisest  and  best  men  in  the  Pagan  world  are  unanimous  in  this,  that 
 the  Mysteries  were  instituted  pure,  and  proposed  the  noblest  ends  by  the 
 worthiest  means."  To  speak  of  the  Initiates  is  to  speak  of  the  greatest 
 men  of  old  :  in  their  ranks  we  find  Plato  and  Pythagoras,  Euclid  and 
 I  )emocritus,  Thales  and  Solon,  Apollonius  and  lamblichus.  In  the 
 Mysteries  unveiled  they  learned  their  wisdom,  and  gave  out  to  the  world 
 such  fragments  of  it  as  their  oath  allowed.  But  those  fragments  have  fed 
 the  world  for  centuries,  and  even  yet  the  learned  of  the  modern  West  sit  at 
 the  feet  of  these  elder  sons  of  wisdom.  Among  the  teachers  of  the  early 
 Christian  Church  some  of  these  men  were  found  ;  they  held  Christianity 
 in  its  esoteric  meaning,  and  used  exoteric  dogmas  merely  as  veils  to  cover 
 the  hidden  truth.     "  Unto  you  it  is  given,"  said  Jesus,  "  to  know   the 
 
THEOSOPHV.  641 
 
 mystery  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  but  unto  them  that  are  without  all  these 
 things  are  done  in  parables  "  (Mark  iv.  11).  Clemens  Alexandrians  and 
 Origen  both  recognise  the  esoteric  nature  of  the  underlying  truths  of 
 Christianity,  as  before  them  did  Paul.  In  West  as  in  East  exoteric  religions 
 were  but  the  popular  representations  of  the  Secret  Wisdom.  But  with  the 
 triumph  of  ecclesiasticism,  the  Secret  Wisdom  drew  back  further  and 
 further  into  the  shade,  until  its  very  existence  slowly  faded  from  the 
 minds  of  men.  Now  and  then  one  of  its  disciples  appeared  in  Christen- 
 dom, and  gave  to  the  world  some  "  discovery  "  which  started  thought  on 
 some  new  and  fruitful  line ;  thus  Paracelsus,  with  his  "  discovery "  of 
 hydrogen,  his  magnetic  treatment  for  the  cure  of  disease,  and  his  many 
 hints  at  secrets  of  nature  not  even  yet  worked  out.  Trace  through  the 
 Middle  Ages,  too  often  by  the  lurid  light  of  flames  blazing  round  a  human 
 body,  the  path  along  which  the  pioneers  of  science  toiled,  and  it  will  be 
 found  that  the  "  magicians  "  and  the  "  wizards  "  were  the  finger-posts  that 
 marked  the  way.  Passing  strange  is  it  to  note  how  the  minds  of  men 
 have  changed  in  their  aspect  to  the  guardians  of  the  Hidden  Wisdom.  Of 
 old,  in  their  passionate  gratitude,  men  regarded  them  as  well  nigh  divine, 
 thinking  no  honours  too  great  to  pay  to  those  who  had  won  the  right  of 
 entrance  into  the  temple  of  the  Unveiled  Truth.  In  the  Middle  Ages, 
 when  men,  having  turned  from  the  light,  saw  devils  everywhere  in  the 
 darkness,  the  Adepts  of  the  Right  Hand  Path  were  dreaded  as  those  of  the 
 Left,  and  wherever  new  knowledge  appeared  and  obscure  regions  of 
 nature  were  made  visible,  cries  of  terror  and  wrath  rent  the  air,  and  men 
 paid  their  benefactors  with  torture  and  with  death.  In  our  own  time, 
 secure  in  the  completeness  of  our  knowledge,  certain  that  our  philosophy 
 embraces  all  things  possible  in  heaven  and  earth,  we  neither  honour  the 
 teachers  as  gods  nor  denounce  them  as  devils  :  with  a  shrug  of  contempt 
 and  a  snifi"  of  derision  we  turn  from  them,  as  they  come  to  us  with  out- 
 stretched hands  full  of  priceless  gifts,  and  Ave  mutter,  "Frauds,  charla- 
 tans!" entrenched  as  we  are  in  our  modern  conceit  that  only  the  nineteenth 
 century  is  wise. 
 
 Theosophy  claims  to  be  this  Secret  Wisdom,  this  great  body  of  doctrine, 
 and  it  alleges  that  this  precious  deposit,  enriched  with  the  results  of  the 
 investigations  of  generations  of  seers  and  sages,  verified  by  countless 
 experiments,  is  to-day,  as  of  old,  in  the  hands  of  a  mighty  Brotherhood, 
 variously  spoken  of  as  Adepts,  Masters,  Mahatmas,  Brothers,  who  are 
 living  men,  evolved  further  than  average  humanity,  who  work  ever  for  the 
 service  of  their  race  with  a  perfect  and  selfless  devotion,  holding  their  high 
 powers  in  trust  for  the  common  good,  content  to  be  without  recognition, 
 having  power  beyond  all  desires  of  the  personal  self. 
 
 The  claim  is  a  lofty  one,  but  it  can  be  substantiated  by  evidence.  I 
 leave  it  as  a  mere  statement  of  the  position  taken  up.  Coming  to  the 
 Western  world  to-day,  Theosophy  speaks  far  more  openly  than  it  has  ever 
 done  before,  owing  to  the  simple  fact  that  with  the  evolution  of  the  race 
 
 VOL.   I. — pt.  2.  u  u 
 
642  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 man  has  become  more  and  more  fitted  to  be  the  recipient  of  such  know- 
 ledge, so  that  what  would  once  be  taught  to  only  a  small  minority  may 
 now  find  a  wider  field.  Some  of  the  doctrine  is  now  thrown  broadcast,  so 
 that  all  who  ca7i  receive  it  may  :  but  the  keys  which  unlock  the  mysteries 
 are  still  committed  but  to  few  hands,  hands  too  well  tried  to  tremble  under 
 their  weight,  or  to  let  them  slip  from  either  weakness  or  treachery.  As  of 
 old  so  now,  the  Secret  Wisdom  is  guarded,  not  by  the  arbitrary  consent  or 
 refusal  of  the  teachers  to  impart  instruction,  but  by  the  capacity  of  the 
 student  to  understand  and  to  assimilate. 
 
 Theosophy  postulates  the  existence  of  an  eternal  Principle,  known  only 
 through  its  effects.  No  words  can  describe  It,  for  words  imply  discrimina- 
 tions, and  This  is  All.  We  murmur.  Absolute,  Infinite,  Unconditioned, — 
 but  the  words  mean  naught.  Sat,  the  Wise  speak  of :  Be-ness,  not  even 
 Being  nor  Existence.  Only  as  the  Manifested  becomes  can  language  be 
 used  with  meaning  ;  but  the  appearance  of  the  Manifested  implies  the  Un- 
 manifested,  for  the  Manifested  is  transitory  and  mutable,  and  there  must 
 be  something  that  eternally  endures.  This  Eternal  must  be  postulated, 
 else  whence  the  existences  around  us  ?  It  must  contain  within  Itself  That 
 which  is  the  essence  of  the  germ  of  all  possibilities,  all  potencies  :  space  is 
 the  only  conception  that  can  even  faintly  mirror  It  without  preposterous 
 distortion,  but  silence  least  off"ends  in  these  high  regions  where  the  wings 
 of  thought  beat  faintly  and  lips  can  only  falter,  not  pronounce. 
 
 The  universe  is,  in  Theosophy,  the  manifestation  of  an  aspect  of  Sat. 
 Rhythmically  succeed  each  other  periods  of  activity  and  periods  of  repose, 
 periods  of  manifestation  and  periods  of  absorption,  the  expiration  and 
 inspiration  of  the  Great  Breath,  in  the  figurative  and  most  expressive 
 phraseology  of  the  East.  The  outbreathing  is  the  manifested  worlds  ;  the 
 inbreathing  terminates  the  period  of  activity.  The  Root-Substance  dif- 
 ferentiates into  "spirit-matter,"  whereof  the  universe,  visible  and  invisible, 
 is  built  up,  evolving  into  seven  stages,  or  planes,  of  manifestation,  each 
 denser  than  its  predecessor  ;  the  substance  is  the  same  in  all,  but  the 
 degrees  of  its  density  differ.  So  the  chemist  may  have  in  his  receiver  water 
 held  invisible  :  he  may  condense  it  into  a  faint  mist-cloud,  condense  it 
 further  into  vapour,  further  yet  into  licjuid,  further  yet  into  solid  ;  through- 
 out he  has  the  same  chemical  compound,  though  he  changes  its  condition. 
 Now  it  is  well  to  remember  that  the  chemist  is  dealing  with  facts  in  nature, 
 and  that  his  results  may  therefore  throw  light  on  natural  methods,  working 
 in  larger  fields ;  we  may  at  least  learn  from  such  an  illustration  to  clarify 
 our  conceptions  of  the  past  course  of  evolution.  Thus,  from  the  Theo- 
 sophical  standpoint,  "  spirit  "  and  "  matter  "  are  essentially  one,  and  the 
 universe  one  living  whole  from  centre  to  circumference,  not  a  molecule  in 
 it  that  is  not  instinct  with  life.  Hence  the  difticulty  that  scientists  have 
 always  found  in  defining  "  life."  Every  definition  they  have  made  has 
 broken  down  as  excluding  some  phenomena  that  they  were  compelled  to 
 recognise  as  those  of  life.     Sentiency,  in  our  meaning  of  the  word  there 
 
THEOSOPHY.  643 
 
 may  not  be,  say  in  the  mineral ;  but  is  it  therefore  "dead  "  ?  Its  particles 
 cohere,  they  vibrate,  they  attract  and  they  repel  :  what  are  these  but 
 manifestations  of  that  living  energy  which  rolls  the  worlds  in  their  courses, 
 flashes  from  continent  to  continent,  thrills  from  root  to  summit  of  the 
 plant,  pulses  in  the  animal,  reasons  in  the  man?  One  Life  and  therefore 
 One  Law  everywhere,  not  a  Chaos  of  warring  atoms  but  a  Kosmos  of 
 ordered  growth.  Death  itself  is  but  a  change  in  life-manifestation,  life 
 which  has  outworn  one  garment  and,  rending  it  in  pieces,,  clothes  itself 
 anew.  When  the  thoughtless  say,  "  He  is  dead,"  the  wise  know  that  the 
 countless  "  lives "  of  which  the  human  body  is  built  up  have  become 
 charged  with  more  energy  than  the  bodily  structure  can  stand,  that  tl  e 
 strain  has  become  too  great,  that  disruption  must  ensue.  Biit  "  death  "  is 
 only  transformation  not  destruction,  and  every  molecule  has  pure  life- 
 essence  at  its  core  with  the  material  garment  it  has  woven  round  itself  of 
 its  own  substance  for  action  on  the  objective  plane. 
 
 Each  of  the  seven  Kosmic  planes  of  manifestation  is  marked  off  by  its 
 own  characteristics  ;  in  the  first  pure  "  spirit,"  the  primary  emanation  of 
 the  One,  subtlest,  rarest,  of  all  manifestations,  incognisable  even  by  the 
 highest  of  Adepts  save  as  present  in  its  vehicle,,  the  Spiritual  Soul  :  without 
 form,  without  intelligence,  as  we  use  the  word— these  matters  are  too  high, 
 "  I  cannot  attain  unto  them."     Next  comes  the  plane  of  Mind,  of  loftiest 
 spiritual  intelligence,  where  first  entity  as  entity  can  be  postulated  ;  indivi- 
 dualism begins,  the  Ego  first  appears.     Rare  and  subtle  is  matter  on  that 
 plane,  yet  form  is  there  possible,  for  the  individual  implies  the  presence  of 
 limitation,   the  separation  of  the   "I"  from  the  "not  L"     Fourth,    still 
 densifying,  comes  the  plane  of  animal  passions  and  desires,  actual  forms  on 
 their  own  plane.     Then,  fifthly,  that  of  the  vivid  animating  life-principle,  as 
 absorbed  in  forms.     Sixthly,    the   astral   plane,  in   which    matter   is    but 
 slightly  rarer  than  with  ourselves.     Seventhly,  the  plane  familiar  to  all  of 
 us,  that  of  the  objective  universe.     Let  us  delay  for  a  moment  over  this 
 question  of  "■  planes,"  for  on  the  understanding  of  it   hinges  our  grasp  of 
 the  philosophical  aspect  of  Theosophy.    A  plane  may  be  defined  as  a  state, 
 marked  off  by  clear  characteristics;  it  must  not  be  thought  of  as  a  place, 
 as  though  the  universe  were  made  up  of  shells  one  within  the  other  like  the 
 coats  of  an   onion.     The  conceptioa  is  metaphysical,  not   physical,  the 
 consciousness  acting  on  each  plane  in  fashion  appropriate  to  each.     Thus 
 a  man  may  pass  from  the  plane  of  the  objective  in  which  his  consciousness 
 is  generally  acting,  on  to  the  other  planes:  he  may  pass  into  the  astral  in 
 sleep,  under  mesmerism,  under  the  influence  of  various  drugs ;  his  con- 
 sciousness may  be  removed  from  the  physical  plane,  his  body  passive,  his 
 brain  inert ;  an  electric  light  leaves  his  eyes  unaffected,  a  gong  beaten  at 
 his  ear  cannot  rouse  the  organ  of  hearing  ;  the  organs  through  which  his 
 consciousness  normally  acts  in  the  physical  universe  are  all  useless,  for  the 
 consciousness  that  uses  them  is  transferred  to  another  plane.     But  he  can 
 see,  hear,  understand,  on  the  astral  plane,  see  sights  invisible  to  physical 
 
644  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 eyes,  hear  sounds  inaudible  to  physical  ears.  Not  real  ?  What  is  "  real  "  ? 
 Some  people  confine  the  real  to  the  tangible  and  only  believe  in  the 
 existence  of  a  thing  that  can  knock  them  down  with  a  lesion  to  prove  the 
 striking.  But  an  emotion  can  slay  as  swiftly  as  an  arrow ;  a  thought  can 
 •cure  with  as  much  certainty  as  a  drug.  All  the  mightiest  forces  are  those 
 which  are  invisible  on  this  plane,  visible  though  they  be  to  senses  subtler 
 than  our  own.  Take  the  case  of  a  soldier  who  in  the  mad  passion  of 
 slaughter,  the  lust  for  blood,  is  wounded  in  the  onward  charge,  and  knows 
 not  the  wounding  till  his  passions  cool  and  the  fight  is  over;  his  conscious- 
 ness during  the  fight  is  transferred  to  the  fourth  plane,  that  of  the  emotions 
 and  passions,  and  it  is  not  till  it  returns  from  that  to  the  plane  of  the 
 physical  body  that  pain  is  felt.  So  again  will  a  great  philosopher,  his 
 consciousness  rising  to  the  plane  of  intelligence,  become  wholly  abstracted 
 — as  we  well  say— from  the  physical  plane ;  brooding  over  some  deep 
 l^roblem,  he  forgets  all  physical  wants,  all  bodily  appetites,  and  becomes 
 concentrated  entirely  on  the  thought-plane,  the  fifth,  in  Theosophic 
 parlance. 
 
 Now  the  consciousness  of  man  can  thus  pass  from  plane  to  plane 
 because  he  is  himself  the  universe  in  miniature,  and  is  built  up  himself  of 
 these  seven  "  principles,"  as  they  are  sometimes  called,  or  better,  is  him- 
 self a  differentiation  of  consciousness  on  seven  planes.  It  may  be  well,  at 
 this  stage,  to  give  to  these  states  of  consciousness  the  names  by  which  they 
 are  known  in  Theosophical  literature,  for  although  some  people  shrink 
 from  names  that  are  unfamiliar,  there  are,  after  all,  only  seven  of  them,  and 
 the  use  of  them  enables  one  to  avoid  the  continual  repetition  of  clumsy 
 and  inexact  descriptive  sentences.  To  Macrocosm  and  Microcosm  alike 
 the  names  apply,  although  they  are  most  often  found  in  relation  to  man. 
 The  Spirit  in  man  is  named  Atma,  cognisable  only  in  its  vehicle  Buddhi, 
 the  Spiritual  Soul  ;  these  are  the  reflexions  in  man  of  the  highest  planes  in 
 the  universe.  The  Spiritual  Intelligence  is  Manas,  the  Ego  in  man,  the 
 immortal  entity,  the  link  between  Atma-Buddhi  and  the  temporary 
 personality.  Below  these  come  in  order  Kama,  the  emotional  and  pas- 
 sional nature ;  Prana,  the  animating  life-])rinciplc  of  the  personality ; 
 l.inga  Sarira,  the  "astral  body,"  the  double  of  the  physical,  but  formed  of  the 
 somewhat  more  ethereal  "  astral "  matter  ;  lastly,  Slhula  Sarira,  the  physical 
 body.  These  seven  states  are  grouped  under  two  heads  :  Atma-Buddhi- 
 Manas  make  up  the  trinity  in  man,  imperishable,  immortal,  the  "pilgrim  " 
 that  jjasses  through  countless  lives,  the  individual,  the  True  Man.  Kama, 
 Prana,  Linga  Sarira,  and  Sthula  Sarira  form  the  quaternary,  the  transi- 
 tory part  of  the  human  being,  the/cnvv/,  which  perishes  gradually,  onwards 
 from  the  death  of  the  physical  body.  This  disintegrates,  the  molecules 
 of  physical,  astral,  kamic,  matter  finding  all  new  forms  into  which  they  are 
 builded,  and  the  more  quickly  they  are  all  resolved  into  their  elements  the 
 I)etter  for  all  concerned.  The  consciousness  of  the  normal  man  resides 
 chiefly  on  the  physical,  astral,  and  kamic  planes,  with  the  lower  portion  of 
 
THEOSOPHY.  64-5 
 
 the  Manasic.  In  flashes  of  genius,  in  loftiest  aspirations,  he  is  touched  for 
 a  moment  by  the  Hght  from  the  higher  Manasic  regions,  but  this  comes — 
 only  comes — to  the  few,  and  to  these  but  in  rare  moments  of  sublime 
 abstraction.  Happy  they  who  even  thus  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  Divine 
 Angoeides,  the  immortal  Ego  within  them.  To  none  born  of  wopien,  save 
 the  Masters,  is  it  at  the  present  time  given  by  the  law  of  evolution  to  rise 
 to  the  Atmic-Buddhic  planes  in  man  ;  thither  the  race  will  climb  millen- 
 niums hence,  but  at  present  it  boots  not  to  speak  thereof. 
 
 Each   of  these  planes  has  its  own  organisms,  its  own  phenomena,,  the 
 laws  of  its  own  manifestation  ;  and  each  can  be  investigated  as  e.xactly,  as 
 scientificallj',  as  experimentally,  as  the  objective  plane  with  which  we  are 
 most  familiar.     All   that  is  necessary  is  that   we  should  use  appropriate 
 organs   of  sensation,  and  a])propriate  methods  of  investigation.     On   the 
 objective  plane  we  arc  already  able  to  obey  this  rule  ;  we  do  not  use  our 
 eyes  to  listen  to  sounds,  and  then  deny  that  sounds  exist  because  our  eyes 
 cannot  hear  tiiem  ;  nor  do  we  take  in  hand  the  microscope  to  examine  a 
 distant  nebula,  and  then  say  that  the  nebula  is  not  there  because  the  field 
 of  the  microscope  is  dark.     A  very  slight  knowledge  of  our  own  objective 
 universe  will  place  us  in  the  right  mental  attitude  towards  the  unknown. 
 Why  do  we  see,  hear,  taste,  feel  ?     Merely  because  our  physical  body  is 
 capable  of  receiving   certain  impressions    from    without   by  way   of  the 
 avenues  of  sense.     But  there  are  myriads  of  phenomena,  as   "  real "  as 
 those  we  familiarly  cognise,  which  are  to  us  non-existent,   for  the   very 
 simple  reason  that  our  organs  of  sensation  are   not  adapted  to  receive 
 them.     Take  the  air-vibrations  which,  translated  into  terms  of  conscious- 
 ness,  we  call  sound.      If  an   instrument  that  emits  successive  notes  be 
 sounded  in  a  room  with  a  dozen  people,  as  the  notes  become  shriller  and 
 shriller  one  person  after  another  drops  out  of  the  circle  of  auditors,  and  is 
 wrapped  in  silence  while  still  a  note  is  sounding,  audible  to  others  there  \ 
 at  last  a  pipe  speaks  that  no  one  hears,  and  though  all  the  air  be  throb- 
 bing with  its  vibrations,  silence  complete  reigns  in  the  room.     The  vibra- 
 tion-waves have  become  so  short  and  rapid  that  tlie  mechanism  of  the 
 human  ear  cannot  vibrate  in  unison  with  them  ;  the  objective  phenomenon 
 is  there,  but  the  subjective  does  not  respond  to  it,  so  that  for  man  it  does 
 not  exist.     Similar  illustrations  might  be  drawn  in  connection  with  every 
 sense,  and  it  is  surely  not  too  much  to  claim  that  if  on  the  plane  to  which 
 our  bodies  are  correlated,  phenomena  constantly  escape  our  dull  perceptions, 
 men  shall  not  found  on  their  ignorance  of  other  planes  the  absolute  denial 
 of  their  existence.     Ignorance  can  only  justify  silence,  suspension  of  judg- 
 ment; it  cannot  justify  denial.     Knowledge  is  necessary  for  rational  belief, 
 but  the  verifiable  assertions  of  those  who  claim  such  knowledge  are  surely 
 more  weighty  than  the  mere  denial  of  ignorance.     As  in  all  other  branches 
 of  scientific  inquiry,  investigation  should  precede  the  formation  of  opinion, 
 and  those  who  would  understand  and  experiment  in  the  occult  regions  of 
 nature  must,  by  long,  steady,  and  patient  courage,  become  occultists.    Only 
 
646  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 informed  opinion  is  of  any  weight  in  discussion,  and  in  occult  science,  as  in 
 every  other,  the  mere  chatter  and  vituperation  of  uninformed  criticism  do  not 
 coiuit.    The  occultist  can  be  no  more  moved  thereby  than  Professor  Huxley 
 by  the  assertions  of  a  fourth-standard  schoolboy.     Those  who  have  time, 
 ability,  and  courage,  can  develop  in  themselves  the  senses  and  the  capa- 
 cities which  enable  the  consciousness  to  come  into  touch  with  the  higher 
 I)lanes,  senses  and  capacities  already  evolved  and  fully  at  work  in  some, 
 and  to  be  in  the  course  of  ages  the  common  in!ieritance  of  every  child  of 
 man.     All  the  so-called  phenomena  which  have  been  so  much  spoken  of 
 in  connection  with  H.  P.  Blavatsky  were  but  the  simple  outcome  of  her 
 highly  evolved  nature,  her  control  over  the  forces  of  the  objective  plane 
 being  exercised  as  naturally  and  carelessly  as   the   electrician  utilises  his 
 knowledge  to   bring  about  results  that    would    seem    miraculous   to   the 
 African  savage.     They  were  but  sparks  flung  outwards  by  the  fire  that  ever 
 steadily  burned  within,  as  difficult  for  her  to  smother  as  for  us  to  live  down 
 to  a  level  of  civilization  far  below  our  own.     I  know  that  the  exercise  of 
 these  powers   often  arouses  in  the  minds  of  people  convinced  of  their 
 reality  an  eager  desire  to  possess  them,  but  only  those  who  will  pay  the 
 price  can  attain  possession.     And  the  first  instalment  of  that  price  is  the 
 absolute  renunciation  of  all  that  men  prize  and  long  for  here  on  earth  ; 
 complete  self-abnegation  ;  perfect  devotion  to  the  service  of  others  ;  de- 
 struction of  all  personal  desires  ;  detachment  from  all  earthly  things.    Such 
 is  the yf/-i-/ step  on  the  Right-Hand  Path,  and  until  that  step  is  taken  it  is 
 idle  to  talk  of  further  progress  along  that  thorny  road.     Occultism  wears 
 no  crown  save  that  of  thorns,  and  its  sceptre  of  command  is  the  seven- 
 knotted  wand,  in   which   each  knot  marks  the  payment  of  a  price  from 
 which   the  normal  man   or  woman   would  turn  shuddering  away.     It  is 
 because  of  this  that  it  is   not  worth  while   to  deal   with  this  aspect  of 
 Theosophy  at  any  length.     What  does  concern  us  is  the  general  plan  of 
 evolution,  the  "  pilgrimage  "  of  the  Kgo,  of  the  individual,  encased  in  the 
 outer  shell  of  the  personality. 
 
 The  evolution  of  man  consists  in  the  acquirement  by  the  Ego  of 
 experience,  and  the  gradual  moulding  of  the  physical  nature  into  a  form 
 which  can  readily  respond  to  every  prompting  of  the  spirit  within.  Tliis 
 evolution  is  carried  on  by  the  repeated  incarnation  of  the  Ego,  over- 
 shadowed by  the  sjiirit,  in  successive  personalities,  through  which  it  lives 
 and  acts  on  the  objective  plane.  The  task  before  it  when  it  starts  on  the 
 wheel  of  life  on  this  earth,  during  the  present  cycle,  is  to  acquire  and 
 assimilate  all  experience,  and  so  to  energize  and  sublimate  the  objective 
 form  of  man  that  it  may  become  a  fit  instrument  and  dwelling  for  the 
 spirit ;  the  complete  assimilation  of  the  Ego  with  the  spirit,  of  Manas  with 
 Atma-Buddhi,  being  tlie  final  goal  of  the  long  and  painful  pilgrimage.  It 
 is  obvious  that  such  work  cannot  be  accomplished  in  one  lifetime,  or  in  a 
 few.  For  such  gigantic  task  countless  lives  must  be  required,  each  life  but 
 one  step  in  the  long  climbing  upward.     Each  life  should  garner  some 
 
THEOSOPHY.  647 
 
 fresh  experience,  should  add  some  new  capacity  or  strengthen  some 
 budding  force ;  tlius  is  builded  up  through  numberless  generations  the 
 Perfect  Man.  Hence  the  doctrine  of  Re-incarnation  is  the  very  core  and 
 essence  of  Theosophy,  and  according  to  the  hold  this  belief  has  on  life,  so 
 will  be  the  grasp  of  the  learner  on  all  Theosophic  truth. 
 
 The  term  Re-incarnation — expressive  as  it  is  of  the  encasing  of  the  Ego 
 in  the  man  of  flesh — is  very  often  misunderstood.  It  implies  the  indwelling 
 of  the  Ego  in  many  successive  i)ersonalities,  but  it  does  not  imply  the 
 possibility  of  its  incarnation  in  the  brute.  In  many  places  and  at  many 
 times  this  travesty  of  the  doctrine  has  prevailed,  and  it  has  been  taught 
 that  the  re-incarnating  Ego  may,  as  penalty  for  the  transgressions  of  the 
 human  personality  with  which  it  has  been  linked,  be  flung  into  the  vortex 
 of  the  brute  world  and  inform  some  lower  animal.  But  this  idea  is  against 
 Theosophical  teaching,  according  to  which  the  Manasic  entity  can  inhabit 
 only  man;  it  is,  indeed,  the  indwelling  of  this  entity  which  is  the  distinction 
 between  the  man  and  the  brute,  a  distinction  which  is  ever  preserved. 
 
 There  is  no  doctrine  in  the  range  of  philosophy  which  throws  so  much 
 light  on  the  tangled  web  of  human  life  as  does  this  doctrine  of  Re-incarna- 
 tion. Take,  for  instance,  the  immense  difference  in  capacity  and  in 
 character  found  within  the  limits  of  the  human  race.  In  all  plants  and  in 
 all  animals  the  characteristic  qualities  of  a  species  may  vary,  but  within 
 comparatively  narrow  limits;  so  also  with  man,  so  far  as  his  outer  form,  his 
 instincts,  and  his  animal  passions,  are  concerned.  They  vary  of  course,  as 
 those  of  the  brute  vary,  but  their  broad  outline  remains  the  same.  But 
 when  we  come  to  study  the  differences  of  mental  capacity  and  moral 
 character,  we  are  struck  with  the  vast  distances  that  separate  man  from 
 man.  Between  the  savage,  counting  five  upon  his  fingers,  and  the  Newton 
 who  calculates  the  movements  of  a  planet  and  predicts  its  course,  how  wide 
 and  deep  a  gulf  as  to  intellect !  between  a  barbarian  dancing  gleefully 
 round  the  bleeding  body  of  his  foe,  as  he  mangles  and  torments  the  living 
 tissues,  and  the  Howard  who  gives  his  life  to  save  and  aid  the  lowest  fallen 
 of  his  people,  how  vast  the  difference  as  to  character  !  And  this  leaves  out 
 of  account  those  living  men,  who  are  as  far  ahead  of  Newton  and  of 
 Howard  as  these  are  above  the  least  evolved  of  our  race.  Whence  the 
 great  divergencies,  unparalleled  among  the  rest  of  the  organisms  on  our 
 globe?  Why  is  man  alone  so  diverse?  Theosophy  points  in  answer  to 
 the  re-incarnation  of  the  Ego,  and  sees  in  the  differing  stages  of  experience 
 reached  by  that  Ego  the  explanation  of  the  differing  intellectual  and  moral 
 capacities  of  the  personality.  "  Baby  Egos  "—as  I  have  heard  H.  P. 
 Blavatsky  call  them  with  reference  to  their  lack  of  human  experience — 
 inform  the  little-evolved  humanity,  while  those  who  dwell  in  the  more 
 highly  developed  races  are  those  who  have  already  garnered  much  rich 
 harvest  of  past  experience  and  have  thereby  become  capable  of  more  rapid 
 growth. 
 
 The  Ego  that  has  completed  a  span  of  earth-life,  and  has  shaken  off  the 
 
648  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 worn-out  personality  that  it  informed,  passes  into  a  subjective  state  of  rest, 
 ere  re-assuming  "the  burden  of  the  flesh."  Thus  it  remains  for  a  period 
 varying  in  length  according  to  the  stage  of  evolution  it  has  reached. 
 When  that  period  is  exhausted,  it  is  drawn  back  to  earth-life,  to  such 
 environment  as  is  suitable  for  the  growing  of  the  seed  it  has  sown  in  its 
 past.  As  surely  as  hydrogen  and  oxygen  rush  into  union  under  certain 
 conditions  of  temperature  and  of  pressure,  is  the  Ego  drawn  by  irresistible 
 affinity  to  the  circumstances  that  yield  opening  for  its  further  evolution. 
 Suitable  environment,  suitable  parents  to  provide  suitable  physical  body, 
 such  are  some  of  the  conditions  that  guide  the  place  and  time  of  re- 
 incarnation. The  desire  for  sentient  life,  the  desire  for  objective  expres- 
 sion, that  desire  which  set  the  universe  a-building,  impels  the  Ego  to  seek 
 renewed  manifestation  ;  it  is  drawn  to  the  surroundings  which  its  own  past 
 has  made  necessary  for  its  further  progress.  Nor  is  this  all.  1  have 
 spoken  of  the  fact  that  each  plane  has  its  own  organisms,  its  own  laws ;  the 
 Manasic  plane  is  the  plane  on  which  thoughts  take  forms,  objective  to  all 
 who  are  able  to  perceive  on  that  plane.  All  the  experiences  of  a  life, 
 gathered  up  after  death,  and  the  essence,  as  it  were,  extracted,  have  their 
 appropriate  thought-forms  on  the  Manasic  plane  ;  as  the  time  for  the  re- 
 incarnation of  the  Ego  approaches,  these  with  previous  unexhausted  similar 
 thought-forms  pass  to  the  astral  plane,  clothe  themselves  in  astral  matter, 
 and  mould  the  astral  body  into  form  suitable  for  the  working  out  of  their 
 own  natural  results.  Into  this  astral  body  the  physical  is  builded,  mole- 
 cule by  molecule,  the  astral  mould  thus,  in  its  turn,  moulding  the  physical. 
 Through  the  physical  body,  including  its  brain,  the  re-incarnated  Ego  has 
 to  work  for  the  term  of  that  incarnation,  and  thus  it  dwells  in  a  tabernacle 
 of  its  own  construction,  the  inevitable  resultant  of  its  own  past  earth-lives. 
 To  how  many  of  the  problems  that  vex  thinkers  to-day  by  the  apparent 
 hopelessness  of  their  solution,  is  an  explanation  suggested  if,  for  the 
 moment,  Re  incarnation  be  accepted  even  as  a  possible  hypothesis. 
 AVithin  the  limits  of  a  family  hereditary  physical  likeness,  often  joined  by 
 startling  mental  and  moral  divergencies ;  twins,  alike  as  far  as  regards 
 heredity  and  pre-natal  environment,  yet  showing  in  some  cases  strong 
 resemblance,  in  others  no  less  dissimilarity.  Cases  of  precocity,  where  the 
 infant  brain  manifests  the  rarest  capacities  precedent  to  all  instruction. 
 Cases  of  rapid  gain  of  knowledge,  where  the  knowledge  seems  to  be 
 rememl)ered  rather  than  acquired,  recognised  rather  than  learned.  Cases 
 of  intuition,  startling  in  their  swiftness  and  lucidity,  insight  clear  and  rapid 
 into  complicated  problems  without  guide  or  teacher  to  show  the  way.  All 
 these  and  many  another  similar  puzzles  receive  light  from  the  idea  of  the 
 persistent  individual  that  informs  each  personality,  and  it  is  a  well-known 
 principle  in  seeking  for  some  general  law  underlying  a  mass  of  apparently 
 unrelated  phenomena  that  the  hypothesis  which  explains  most,  brings 
 most  into  accord  with  an  intelligible  sequence,  is  the  one  most  likely  to 
 repay  further  investigation. 
 
THEOSOPH  V.  649 
 
 To  those,  again,  who  shrink  from  the  idea  that  the  Universe  is  one  vast 
 embodiment  of  injustice,  the  doctrine  of  Re-incarnation  comes  as  a  mental 
 reb'cf  from  well-nigh  unbearable  strain.  When  we  see  the  eager  mind 
 imprisoned  in  an  inefficient  body ;  when  we  note  the  differences  of  mental 
 and  moral  capacity  that  make  all  achievement  easy  to  one,  impossible  to 
 others ;  when  we  come  across  what  seems  to  be  undeserved  suffering, 
 disadvantageous  circumstances  ;  when  we  feel  longings  after  heights  un- 
 attainable for  lack  of  strength ;  then  the  knowledge  that  we  create  our  own 
 character,  that  we  have  made  our  own  strength  or  our  own  weakness,  that 
 we  are  not  the  sport  of  an  arbitrary  God  or  of  a  soulless  Destiny,  but  are 
 verily  and  indeed  the  creators  of  ourselves  and  of  our  lot  in  life — this 
 knowledge  comes  to  us  as  a  support  and  an  inspiration,  giving  energy  to 
 improve  and  courage  to  endure. 
 
 This  immutable  law  of  cause  and  effect  is  spoken  of  as  Karma  (action) 
 in  Theosophy.  Each  action — using  the  word  to  include  all  forms  of 
 activity,  mental,  moral,  physical — is  a  cause  and  must  work  out  its  full 
 effect.  Effect  as  regards  the  past,  it  is  cause  as  regards  the  future,  and 
 under  this  sway  of  Karmic  law  moves  the  whole  life  of  man  as  of  all  worlds. 
 Every  debt  incurred  must  be  duly  paid  in  this  or  in  some  other  life,  and  as 
 the  wheel  of  life  turns  round  it  brings  with  it  the  fruit  of  every  seed  that 
 we  have  sown.  Re-incarnation  under  Karmic  law,  such  is  the  message  of 
 Theosophy  to  a  Christendom  which  relies  on  a  vicarous  atonement  and  a 
 swift  escape  to  Paradise  when  the  grave  closes  on  the  dead.  Re-incarna- 
 tion under  Karmic  law,  until  the  fruit  of  every  experience  has  been  gathered, 
 every  blunder  rectified,  every  fault  eradicated  ;  until  compassion  has  been 
 made  perfect,  strength  unbreakable,  tenderness  complete,  self-abnegation 
 the  law  of  life,  renunciation  for  others  the  natural  and  joyous  impulse  of 
 the  whole  nature. 
 
 But  how,  it  may  be  asked,  can  you  urge  to  effort,  or  press  responsibility, 
 if  you  regard  every  action  as  one  link  in  an  infrangible  chain  of  cause  and 
 effect?  The  answer  lies  in  the  sevenfold  nature  of  man,  in  the  action  of 
 the  higher  on  the  lower.  The  freewill  of  man  on  this  plane  is  lodged  in 
 the  Manasic  entity,  which  acts  on  his  lower  nature.  Absolute  freewill  is 
 there  none,  save  in  the  Unconditioned.  When  manifestation  begins,  the 
 Universal  Will  becomes  bound  and  limited  by  the  laws  of  Its  own  mani- 
 festation, by  the  fashion  of  the  expression  It  has  chosen  as  its  temporary 
 vehicle.  Conditioned,  it  is  limited  by  the  conditions  It  has  imposed  on 
 Itself,  manifesting  under  garb  of  the  universe  in  which  It  wills  to  body 
 Itself  forth.  On  each  plane  Its  expression  is  limited  by  the  capacities  of 
 Its  embodiments.  Now  the  Manasic  entity  in  its  own  sphere  is  the  re- 
 flexion, the  image,  of  the  Universal  Will  in  Kosmos.  So  far  as  the 
 personality  is  concerned,  the  promptings,  the  impulses,  from  the  Manasic 
 plane  are  spontaneous,  have  every  mark  of  freedom,  and  if  we  start  from 
 the  lowest  plane  of  objective  nature,  we  shall  see  how  relative  freedom  is 
 possible.     If  a  man  be  loaded  with  chains,  his  muscles  will  be  limited  in 
 
650  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 their  power  of  movement.  They  are  constrained  in  their  expression  by  tlie 
 dead  weight  of  iron  pressing  upon  them  ;  yet  the  muscular  force  is  there, 
 though  denied  outward  expression,  and  the  iron  cannot  prevent  the  strain- 
 ing of  the  fibres  against  the  force  used  in  their  subdual.  Again,  some 
 strong  emotion,  some  powerful  impulse  from  the  Kama-Manasic  plane,  may 
 hold  rigid  the  muscles  under  lesion  that  would  make  every  fibre  contract  and 
 pull  the  limb  away  from  the  knife.  The  muscles  are  compelled  from  the 
 plane  above  them,  the  personal  will  being  free  to  hold  them  rigid  or  leave 
 them  to  their  natural  reaction  against  injury.  From  the  standpoint  of  the 
 muscles  the  personal  will  is  free,  and  it  cannot  be  controlled  save  as  to  its 
 material  expression  on  the  material  plane.  When  the  jManasic  entity 
 sends  impulse  downwards  to  the  lower  nature  with  which  it  is  linked,  con- 
 flict arises  between  the  animal  desire  and  the  human  will.  Its  interferences 
 appear  to  the  personality  as  spontaneous,  free,  uncaused  by  any  actions  on 
 the  lower  plane ;  and  so  they  are,  for  the  causes  that  work  on  it  are  of  the 
 higher  not  the  lower  planes.  The  animal  passions  and  desires  may  limit 
 its  effective  expression  on  their  own  plane,  but  they  cannot  either  prompt 
 or  prevent  its  impulses;  man's  true  freedom  is  found  when  his  lower 
 nature  puts  itself  into  line  with  the  higher,  and  gives  free  course  to  the  will 
 of  the  h'gher  Ego.  And  so  with  that  Ego  itself:  able  to  act  freely  on  the 
 planes  below  it,  it  finds  its  best  freedom  as  channel  of  the  Universal  Will 
 from  which  it  springs,  the  conscious  willing  harmony  with  the  All  of  which 
 it  is  part.  An  effect  cannot  be  altered  when  the  cause  has  appeared  ;  but 
 that  effect  is  itself  to  be  a  cause,  and  here  the  will  can  act.  Suppose  a 
 great  sorrow  falls  on  some  shrinking  human  heart ;  the  effect  is  there,  can- 
 not be  avoided,  but  its  future  result  as  cause  may  be  one  of  two  things ; 
 Kama  may  rebel,  the  whole  personal  nature  may  rise  in  passionate  revolt, 
 and  so,  warring  against  the  Higher  Will,  the  new  cause  generated  will  be 
 of  disharmony,  bearing  in  its  womb  new  evil  to  be  born  in  days  to  come. 
 But  Kama  may  range  itself  obediently  with  Karmic  action  ;  it  may 
 patiently  accept  the  pain,  joyfully  unite  itself  to  the  Higher  Will,  and  so 
 make  the  effect  as  cause  to  be  pregnant  with  future  good. 
 
 Remains  but  space  for  one  last  word  on  that  which  is  Theosophy  in 
 action — the  Universal  Brotherhood  of  Man.  This  teaching  is  the  inevitable 
 outcome  of  the  doctrines  of  the  One  Universal  Spirit  common  to  all 
 humanity.  Re-incarnation  and  Karma.  Every  distinction  of  race  and  sex, 
 of  class  and  creed,  fades  away  before  the  essential  unity  of  the  indwelling 
 spirit,  before  the  countless  incarnations  under  all  forms  of  outward  garmen- 
 ture,  making  the  experience  of  prince  and  beggar  part  of  the  training  of 
 all  in  turn.  Here  is  to  be  found  the  motive-spring  of  action — love  for  all 
 mankind.  In  each  child  of  man  the  true  Theosophist  recognises  a  brother 
 to  be  loved  and  served,  and  in  the  Theosophical  Society,  Tiieosophists, 
 under  the  direction  of  the  Masters,  have  formed  a  nucleus  for  such  Brother- 
 hood of  Humanity,  and  have  made  its  recognition  the  only  obligation 
 binding  on  all  who  enter.     Amid  class  hatreds  and  warring  sects  it  raises 
 
THEOSOPHY.  651 
 
 this  sublime  banner  of  human  love,  a  continual  reminder  that  essentially 
 all  humanity  is  one,  and  that  the  goal  to  which  we  travel  is  the  same  for 
 all.  Without  this  recognition  of  Brotherhood  all  science  is  useless  and  all 
 religion  is  hypocrisy.  Deeper  than  all  diversity,  mightier  than  all  animo- 
 sity, is  that  Holy  Spirit  of  Love.  The  Self  of  each  is  the  Higher  Self  of 
 all,  and  that  bond  is  one  which  nothing  in  all  worlds  can  avail  to  break. 
 That  which  raises  one  raises  all ;  that  which  degrades  one  degrades  all. 
 The  sin  and  crime  of  our  race  are  our  sin  and  crime,  and  only  as  we  save 
 our  brethren  can  we  save  ourselves.  One  in  our  inception,  one  in  our 
 goal,  we  must  needs  be  one  in  our  progress  ;  the  "  curse  of  separateness  " 
 that  is  on  us  it  is  ours  to  remove,  and  Theosophy  alike  as  religion  and 
 philosophy  will  be  a  failure  save  as  it  is  the  embodiment  of  the  life  of 
 Love. 
 
652 
 
 THE     NEW    CHURCH,     COMMONLY    CALLED 
 
 SWEDENBORGIAN. 
 
 By  the    Rev.    Thomas   Child. 
 
 It  may  be  asked,  "  Have  we  not  enough  of  Churches,  and  why  another 
 one  caUing  itself  the  New  Church  ?  "  Well,  there  never  was  a  new  move- 
 ment which  did  not  begin  as  a  Church ;  the  more  secular  fraternities  of 
 the  politician  and  the  reformer  are  to  them  as  Churches  are  in  religious 
 matters.  And  as  regards  the  New  Church  our  claim  is  that  it  explains  the 
 problems  which  have  so  long  vexed  mankind. 
 
 Turning  then  first  to  the  Philosophical  Aspect  of  New  Church  teach- 
 ing, our  primary  attitude  is  not  things  as  they  are,  but  fny  relation  to  them  ; 
 not,  "  Do  things  exist  ?  "  but,  "  What  must  I,  as  a  rational  human  being, 
 from  the  constitution  and  laws  of  my  nature,  believe  ? "  Not  primarily 
 whether  my  belief  is  answered  or  matched  by  existing  things,  but,  "  What 
 is  it  that  I  am  constituted,  and  thus  that  reason  compels  me,  to  believe?" 
 This  is  our  starting-point.  The  facts  of  human  nature  are  the  best  inter- 
 preters of  man ;  if  we  come  down  to  them  and  let  them  speak  for 
 themselves,  we  shall  get  clear  and  explicit  answers.  But  men  seldom 
 allow  reason,  as  such,  to  speak,  or  the  facts  of  their  own  nature  to  declare, 
 as  they  would  with  unmistakable  voice,  the  things  that  are  true  for  it,  and 
 which  that  nature  is  bound,  because  constituted,  to  believe.  Primarily,  for 
 example,  I  am  not  concerned  with  whether  God  exists,  but  with  whether 
 I  ought  to  believe  that  God  exists  as  the  outcome  of  my  constitution. 
 Afterwards,  the  question  may  come  as  to  whether  my  conception  answers 
 to  the  facts.  You  may  always  be  sure,  however,  that  what  a  man  acknow- 
 ledges himself  as  bound  to  believe,  he  will  equally  declare  to  be  an 
 existing  fact.  Man  then  must  have  a  creed,  because  he  has  a  nature  ;  he 
 has  a  right  to  know  what  his  nature  can  tell  him,  and  he  is  bound  to 
 follow  its  teachings,  whatever  they  be  and  wherever  they  lead  him. 
 
 Materialists  say  :  "  Some  things  we  know.  We  know  that  man  is  matter. 
 We  don't  know  that  he  is  anything  else."  But  have  we  a  right  to  assume 
 that,  inasmuch  as  we  do  not  see  mind  acting  without  matter,  therefore  mind 
 is  the  result  of  matter?  We  have  no  such  right.  These  two  are  simply, 
 so  far  as  we  can  tell,  co-existent ;  and,  being  so,  scientific  inquiry  should 
 itself  prevent  us  confounding  things  that  differ.  Nobody  knows,  as  a 
 matter  of  fact,  that  mind  comes  from  matter. 
 
 P>ut  what  is  it  that  constitutes  matter  or  substance?  "Qualities! 
 qualities  !  !"  the  materialist  says.     "Destroy  a  man's  organism, — put  him 
 
THE  NEW  CHURCH,   CALLED  SWEDENBORGIAA.        653 
 
 in  the  fire,  for  instance, — and  where  is  he  ?  What  then  are  these  things 
 you  call  soul,  immortality  ?  They  are  myths.  Don't  you  see  that  when 
 you  destroy  the  qualities  the  man  is  gone,  and  gone  for  ever?  " 
 
 I  accept  the  position.  Qualities  constitute  "things";  and  the  qualities 
 of  a  material  thing  constitute  a  material  thing,  and  the  qualities  of  an  im- 
 material thing  constitute  an  immaterial  thing;  and  there's  the  end  of  it. 
 Take  the  principle  and  follow  it  up,  and  where  does  it  lead  ?  To  spiritual 
 organization.  How  is  that?  In  this  way.  The  qualities  of  a  stone 
 constitute  a  stone ;  of  a  chair,  a  chair.  Suppose  you  take  the  qualities 
 from  the  chair.  How  can  you  do  that  ?  Put  it  in  the  fire  ;  the  chair  and 
 its  qualities  have  gone.  Of  course  there  is  a  residue  of  dust  and  gas, 
 having  qualities  of  their  own  ;  but  the  point  is,  whether  the  destruction  of 
 the  qualities  of  any  body  is  not  the  destruction  of  the  body  itself.  Reason 
 and  fact  answer,  "Yes."  In  man  there  are  two  forms  of  substance. 
 "  No,"  says  the  materialist,  "  I  deny  that."  Well,  look  at  the  facts,  so  far 
 as  reason  can  show  them.  Abstractly  speaking,  immaterial  properties  or 
 qualities,  if  there  be  such,  constitute  immaterial  things,  just  as  material 
 (jualities  constitute  material  things.  But  are  there  any  such  qualities  as 
 immaterial  qualities  ?  Is  thought  a  material  quality  ?  Is  feeling  a  material 
 quality  ?  Surely  neither  thoughts  nor  feelings  are  material.  They  are  not 
 subject  to  the  laws  of  gravity  or  cohesion  ;  they  cannot  be  weighed  nor 
 measured ;  and  they  do  not  admit  of  being  seen,  smell,  tasted,  heard,  or 
 felt.  They  are,  therefore,  immaterial  properties  or  qualities,  no  matter 
 whence  they  exist  as  to  origin.  A  series  of  qualities,  known  as  material, 
 constitute  material  substance  ;  and  (we  must  not  hesitate)  a  series  of 
 (jualities  known  as  mental,  constitute  mental  substance.  Mental  and 
 material  qualities  are  side  by  side  in  man. 
 
 The  mental  —  or,  if  you  do  not  object,  the  spiritual  —  directs  the 
 material ;  the  directed  matter  is  the  agent,  the  means  by  which  the  mind 
 works  here  in  a  material  sphere.  Man  is  a  spiritual  being  at  work  in  a 
 material  environment.  It  appears  then  that  the  materialistic  position  is 
 really  undermined,  and  that  another  position  has  taken  its  place.  You  put 
 it  in  a  nutshell  thus  :  Qualities  constitute  substance.  There  are  immaterial 
 qualities  ;  therefore  there  is  immaterial  substance. 
 
 In  what  way  are  we  to  think  of  the  Infinite  Cause,  or  God?  Our  only 
 idea  must  be  anthropomorphic — we  cannot  help  ourselves  :  in  the  very 
 nature  of  the  case  it  must  be  so.  Man  is  bound  to  think  that  God  must 
 be  as  man  is.  Don't  you  know  that  if  a  dog  could  think  of  God,  it  would 
 think  of  Him  as  a  dog,  and  that  a  horse  would  think  of  Him  as  a  horse  ? 
 And  if  you  are  thinking  of  God,  once  more  our  point  is,  "  ^Vhat  am  I, 
 as  a  human  creature,  bound  to  think  and  believe  concerning  this  Cause, 
 but  that  He  is  essentially  like  me,  that  He  is  not  less  than  human — 
 that  He  is  infinitely  what  I  am  finitely."  Yes ;  and  your  reason  declares 
 that  God  is  like  you.  You  have  emotions  and  feelings;  and  God  has 
 these,  has  intellect,  has  energy.     God  is  the  origin  of  man.     "  God  created 
 
654  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 man  in  His  own  image  and  likeness."  It  was  from  an  efflux  of  the  Divine 
 nature  passing  forth  to  the  external  world,  and  fitting  there  to  itself  a 
 material  organism  taken  from  dust,  that  man  was  brought  forth. 
 
 Is  this  transcendent?  It  is  rational.  Nothing  is  more  transcendent 
 than  the  simplest  facts  of  life. 
 
 Well,  but  He  may  not  exist  after  all  ;  it  may  be  only  my  idea  !  Trust 
 the  idea  which  your  nature  impels  you  to  hold,  and  all  else  will  come 
 right.  Be  loyal  to  the  facts  of  reason,  and  things  as  they  are  will  not  be 
 far  from  reason's  way. 
 
 But  I  hear  another  voice,  which  cries,  "  You  say  the  mind  declares  for 
 cause,  and  you  lead  the  mind  up  to  God  as  the  Cause  of  all.  Then  what 
 caused  God?  Is  not  God  caused  too?"  No;  there  is  a  mistake  in  the 
 reasoning.  Sequence  is  simply  succession.  Cause  is  the  stoppage  of  suc- 
 cession ;  and  your  idea  that  God  may  be  caused  is  really  a  denial  of  cause 
 and  a  reintroduction  of  sequence.  You  take  nature's  idea  of  sequence, 
 and  read  it  into  Cause.  In  cause  there  can  be  no  such  succession  ;  there 
 is  the  beginning  of  successions.  When,  therefore,  man  declares  that  there 
 is  a  cause  of  these  successions,  the  last  for  him  has  been  reached  ;  and  he 
 cannot  now,  to  be  true  to  his  nature  and  reason,  apply  the  law  of  suc- 
 cession to  the  Cause,  for  therein  he  will  be  denying  what  he  has  already 
 affirmed. 
 
 Men  have  had  religion  after  its  kind  ;  and  now  men  have  science  after 
 its  kind  ;  but  the  two  must  go  together,  if  there  is  to  be  any  religion  or 
 science  worth  the  name.  What  evidence,  then,  does  the  scientist  demand 
 for  the  knowledge  any  man  would  confer  upon  him  ?  In  brief,  the  evidence 
 of  experience,  his  own  or  another's. 
 
 Turning  now  to  our  second  point  (the  Spiritual  Aspect  of  the  New 
 Church,  that  is,  the  sort  of  evidence  which  the  New  Church  presents  con- 
 cerning man's  future, — the  evidence  of  the  senses),  I  have  not  seen  into 
 that  other  world,  I  cannot  let  you  see  it ;  but  such  is  the  evidence  given. 
 The  Lord,  as  we  think,  when  He  would  unfold  heaven  to  earth,  unfolded 
 it,  as  He  must  and  could  only  do,  through  a  man  prepared  for  that  purpose. 
 He  made  it  known  through  that  man.  I  know  that  it  is  a  risky  thing  to 
 say  here,  but  I  am  bound  to  tell  you  what  I  believe.  Swedenborg,  the  man 
 I  speak  of,  says:  "  I  have  for  thirty  years  been  in  open  communication,  by 
 the  Lord's  mercy,  with  the  spiritual  world."  And  he  gives  us  its  laws  ; 
 and,  curiously  enough,  the  facts  interpret  the  lav\3,  and  the  laws  the  facts ; 
 and  a  study  of  these  things  impresses  the  mind  with  the  conviction  that 
 here  there  is  no  crazy  enthusiast,  but  a  man  of  science,  prepared  through 
 his  science,  through  all  the  knowledge  the  world  could  give  him,  for  this 
 wider  emancipation,  this  opening  of  thought  and  knowledge  into  the 
 interior  sphere,  that  he  might  bring  forth  the  facts  from  thence,  and  make 
 them  known.  And  now  they  stand  in  black  and  white  for  the  men  of 
 to-day  to  read  and  ponder  and  comprehend. 
 
 The  New  Church,  then,  believes  that  there  is  a  God  acting  through  the 
 
THE  NEW  CHURCH,    CALLED  SWEDENBORGIAN.       655 
 
 spiritual  world  into  the  natural  world.  Where  is  the  spiritual  world  ?  It 
 is  in  the  natural  world  as  the  soul  is  in  the  body ;  and  as  the  soul  is  the 
 centre  and  source  of  all  human  activity,  so  is  the  spiritual  world  the  source 
 and  centre  of  all  natural  growth  and  life.  The  idea  of  the  spiritual  world 
 in  the  natural  world  affords  a  key  to  much  which  the  istiis  of  the  day  leave 
 out.  The  mission  of  Swedenborg  was  to  lay  open  the  spiritual  world— the 
 causal  world — to  our  apprehension,  so  that  the  world  of  causes  and  the 
 world  of  effects  might  alike  be  unfolded  to  the  rational  apprehension  of 
 humanity.  Swedenborg  explained  the  facts  and  laws  of  both  worlds,  and 
 the  results  are  at  hand  for  our  study. 
 
 Third.  The  Doctrinal  Aspects  of  the  New  Church.  The  Bible  is  not 
 to  us  as  to  others.  We  do  not  accept  it  because  it  is  literally  true,  because 
 the  miracles  are  established,  because  the  prophecy  is  conclusive.  It  is  not 
 rational  that  such  external  things  should  produce  belief,  which  is  an 
 internal  matter;  it  is  not  rational  to  perform  a  miracle  to  make  one  believe. 
 Swedenborg  has  been  the  means  of  unfolding  this  book,  the  Bible,  to  us 
 in  a  way  which  has  never  been  done  before  ;  he  says  that  there  is  in  the 
 books  constituting  the  Scriptures  proper — not  m  all  the  books  which  are 
 now  bound  up  with  the  Bible — a  real  coherence  from  one  end  to  the  other, 
 and  such  as  could  never  have  been  in  a  merely  human  construction.  Our 
 Church  holds  the  doctrine  of  the  "  spiritual  sense  of  the  word  "  which 
 is  discerned  as  men  progress  from  being,  spiritually,  "  big  boys "  to 
 "grown-up  men."  If  revelation  was  closed  ages  ago,  we  are  now  "left 
 out  in  tlie  cold."  To  the  very  questions  disturbing  men  now  there  may  be 
 found  an  answer  in  the  "spiritual  sense  of  the  word."  [The  difference 
 between  the  literal  and  the  spiritual  meaning  of  Scripture  was  illustrated 
 by  referring  to  a  casket  with  a  beautiful  exterior,  but  the  gems  which  the 
 interior  held  appeared  far  more  beautiful.]  On  the  lines  thus  laid  down, 
 the  Bible  was  provable  to  be  God's  book,  but  on  no  other  lines. 
 
 As  to  the  doctrines  derived  from  the  Bible,  they  .consider  that  there  is 
 nothing  in  the  Bible  to  warrant  the  belief  in  a  Trinity  of  Persons  in  the 
 Godhead  ;  that  is  simply  impossible ;  it  is  an  absurdity ;  three  in  one  is  a 
 thing  contrary  to  reason.  A  trinity  of  essentials,  however,  there  may  be 
 in  God.  There  is  a  likeness  to  this  in  nature;  eg.  from  the  sun  emanates 
 heat,  light,  and  energy  ;  and  there  is  a  trinity  of  powers  in  man.  The 
 New  Church  considers  the  Father  to  be  the  Divine  Love ;  the  Son  the 
 Thought  and  Wisdom  by  means  of  which  all  things  proceed  ;  and  the 
 Holy  Sj)irit  the  Energy  sustaining  all  things.  It  wholly  disclaims  the 
 ordinary  idea  of  the  "Atonement."  The  Atonement  properly  means 
 "at-one-ment,"  i.e.  reconciliation  of  God  and  man,  not  the  reconciliation 
 of  God  to  man,  but  man  to  God ;  and  this  was  brought  about  when  God 
 assumed  humanity  as  the  Son,  and  led  men  from  matter  to  spirit,  from 
 death  to  life.  This  is  an  awful  thing  to  say,  but  the  conception  possesses 
 rational  harmony.  The  "  resurrection  of  the  material  body  "  we  do  not 
 .believe  in,  inasmuch  as  when  men  go  into  the  spiritual  world  they  will 
 
6,6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 never  want  a  material  body  more.  A  spiritual  substance  is  inevitably  a 
 spiritual  body. 
 
 Fourth.  I'he  Practical  Aspect  of  the  New  Church — which  may  be 
 summed  up  in  the  sentence,  "  All  religion  has  relation  to  life,  and  the  life 
 of  religion  is  to  do  good."  That  is  the  practical  embodiment  of  the  New 
 Church  teaching.  It  does  not  deal  with  mere  doctrines,  but  its  motto  is, 
 Doctrine  in  Life. 
 
 What  must  that  future  religion  be  that  will  satisfy  man  ?  It  must  be  a 
 union  of  science  and  religion.  A  religion  capable  of  being  scientifically 
 ]jroved,  because  organically,  humanly  based,  is  the  only  religion  that  the 
 future  could  possibly  accept.  And  it  is  because  this  is  exactly  true  of  the 
 New  Church  throughout  her  universal  grasp  of  facts  and  principles,  because 
 she  can  give  a  rational  reason  for  the  facts  of  life  and  what  she  alleges  in 
 regard  to  them,  because  she  meets  man  wholly  and  explains  him  through 
 and  through,  that  she  stands  out  distinctively  as  the  exponent  of  this  new 
 era  of  the  world.  If  the  New  Church  is  not  a  philosophical  and  spiritual 
 interpretation  of  man  and  his  surroundings,  it  is  nothing. 
 
^^57 
 
 THE  CHURCH    OF   JESUS  CHRIST  OF 
 LATTER-DAY  SAINTS. 
 
 (COMMOxNLY  KNOWN  AS  MORMONS.) 
 Bv  Elder  James  H,  Anderson  {of  Salt  Lake  City,    Utah). 
 
 Ok  the  religious  denominations  now  in  existence  among  men,  none  have 
 attracted  such  attention  from  the  others  as  the  organization  known  as 
 "The  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints,"  the  members  of 
 which  are  popularly,  though  erroneously,  called  "  Mormons,"  because  of 
 their  belief  in  the  divine  authenticity  of  the  Book  of  Mormon,  a  record  of 
 the  ancient  inhabitants  of  America.  In  every  nation  where  the  fame  of 
 this  Church  has  spread,  and  where  its  elders  have  appeared  to  teach  their 
 faith,  one  feature  which  stands  pre-eminent  is  the  bitterness  with  which 
 they  are  opposed,  without  even  the  opportunity  of  being  heard,  principally 
 by  professed  believers  in  Christianity. 
 
 Some  there  are  who  are  practical  in  their  adherence  to  the  doctrine  of 
 religious  tolerance,  and  whose  expansive  minds  lead  them  to  refrain  from 
 passing  judgment  till  they  hear  the  case  fairly  stated.  They  hesitate  to 
 follow  popular  clamour,  preferring  to  ascertain  the  truth  for  themselves 
 rather  than  give  assent  to  the  voice  of  prejudice  and  bigotry,  which  de- 
 manded the  life  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth  because  He  claimed  to  be  the  Son 
 of  God.  But  these  are  the  exception  ;  the  rule  has  l^een  to  accept  without 
 <luestion  assertions  made  against  the  Latter-day  Saints,  and  to  decline  to 
 listen  to  anything  in  tlie  way  of  denial  or  justification.  ^Vith  this  promi- 
 nent fact  before  us,  it  is  beyond  dispute  that  to  this  organization,  above  all 
 others  in  this  generation,  must  be  applied  the  saying,  "  For  as  concerning 
 this  sect,  we  know  that  everywhere  it  is  spoken  against." 
 
 Doubtless  much  of  this  antagonism  is  due  to  ignorance  of  the  true  belief, 
 aims  and  condition  of  the  Latter-day  Saints.  Certainly  it  is  largely 
 because  of  gross  misrepresentations  by  those  who  have  constituted  them- 
 selves their  enemies.  The  reason  for  assuming  this  position  can  be  left  for 
 explanation  to  those  who  occupy  it.  The  purpose  of  the  present  occasion 
 is  not  to  consider  that  branch  of  the  subject,  but  rather  to  present  the 
 doctrines  believed  in  by  the  Latter-day  Saints,  and  the  reason  for  that 
 belief.  The  limited  space  alloted  me  will  admit  of  only  a  brief  exposi- 
 tion of  those  doctrines  ;  all  who  are  desirous  of  more  elaborate  explana- 
 tion may  obtain  it  from  the  published  works  of  the  Church,  and  from  its 
 elders,  who  will  be  pleased  to  present  to  investigators  the  Gospel  message 
 which    they  are  proclaiming  to  the  world.     The  present  opportunity  is 
 
 VOL.  I.  — pt.   2.  XX 
 
658  KEIJCIOUS   SYSTEMS    OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 sufficient  for  but  an  abridged  statement,  in  plain  and  simple  language,  of 
 the  religious  system  under  consideration. 
 
 This  Church  presents  no  formula  of  religious  dogmas.  Its  creed  is  : 
 'J'he  direct  revelation  of  God  to  His  children.  As  He  is  without  variable- 
 ness, and  is  no  respecter  of  persons,  so  His  laws  are  unchangeable  ;  and 
 whatsoever  He  gives  by  the  voice  of  revelation  is  a  law  unto  the  Saints. 
 The  organization  of  this  Church  was  effected  at  Fayette,  New  York,  on 
 Sunday,  the  sixth  day  of  April,  1830.  Shortly  after  this  event,  its  presid- 
 ing Apostle  and  Prophet,  Joseph  Smith,  was  asked  for  a  concise  statement 
 of  what  he  and  his  people  believed,  and  in  reply  he  wrote  the  following  : 
 
 Articles  ok  Faith  of    the  Church  of    Jesus    Christ   of    Latter- 
 day  Saints. 
 
 1.  We  believe  in  God,  the  Eternal  T^ather,  and  in  His  Son,  Jesus  Christ, 
 and  in  the  Holy  Ghost. 
 
 2.  A\'e  believe  that  men  will  be  punished  for  their  own  sins,  and  not  for 
 Adam's  transgression. 
 
 3.  We  believe  that  through  the  atonement  of  Christ,  all  mankind  may 
 be  saved,  by  obedience  to  the  laws  and  ordinances  of  the  Gospel. 
 
 4.  We  believe  that  these  ordinances  are  :  First,  P'aith  in  the  Lord 
 Jesus  Christ ;  second.  Repentance  ;  third,  Baptism  by  immersion  for  the 
 remission  of  sins ;  fourth.  Laying  on  of  hands  for  the  gift  of  the  Holy 
 Ghost. 
 
 5.  ^^'e  believe  that  a  man  must  be  called  of  God,  by  "  prophecy,  and 
 by  the  laying  on  of  hands,"  by  those  who  are  in  authority,  to  preach  the 
 Gospel  and  administer  in  the  ordinances  thereof. 
 
 6.  We  believe  in  the  same  organization  that  existed  in  the  primitive 
 Church,  viz.  :  apostles,  prophets,  pastors,  teachers,  evangelists,  etc. 
 
 7.  We  believe  in  the  gift  of  tongues,  prophecy,  revelation,  visions,  heal- 
 ing, interpretation  of  tongues,  etc. 
 
 8.  We  believe  the  Bible  to  be  the  word  of  God,  as  far  as  it  is  translated 
 correctly ;  we  also  believe  the  Book  of  Mormon  to  be  the  word  of  God. 
 
 9.  We  believe  all  that  God  has  revealed,  all  that  He  does  now  reveal, 
 and  we  believe  that  He  will  yet  reveal  many  great  and  important  things, 
 pertaining  to  the  Kingdom  of  God. 
 
 10.  We  believe  in  the  literal  gathering  of  Israel  and  in  the  restoration, 
 of  the  Ten  Tribes.  That  Zion  will  be  built  upon  this  continent.  That 
 Christ  will  reign  personally  upon  the  earth,  and  that  the  earth  will  be  re- 
 newed and  receive  its  paradisic  glory. 
 
 1 1.  ^\'e  claim  the  privilege  of  worshipping  Almighty  God  according  to 
 the  dictates  of  our  conscience,  and  allow  all  men  the  same  privilege,  let 
 them  worship  how,  where  or  what  they  may. 
 
 12.  We  believe  in  being  subject  to  kings,  presidents,  rulers  and  magis- 
 trates, in  obeying,  honouring  and  sustaining  the  law. 
 
THE  MORMONS.  659 
 
 13.  We  believe  in  being  honest,  true,  chaste,  benevolent,  virtuous,  and 
 in  doing  good  to  all  men  ;  indeed  we. may  say  that  we  follow  the  admoni- 
 tion of  Paul:  "We  believe  all  things,  we  hope  all  things":  we  have 
 endured  many  things,  and  hope  to  be  able  to  endure  all  things.  If  there 
 is  anything  virtuous,  lovely,  or  of  good  report,  or  praiseworthy,  we  seek  after 
 these  things. 
 
 The  position  taken  by  the  Prophet  Joseph  Smith  and  those  who  have 
 given  heed  to  the  doctrines  he  presented  is  that  they  have  no  new  system 
 of  religion  to  offer  to  tlie  world,  but  that  their  message  is  the  fulness  of 
 the  everlasting  Gospel;  the  Gospel  which  Paul  said  was  "the  power  of 
 God  unto  salvation,  to  every  one  that  believeth";  the  Gospel  of  which  the 
 13ible  bears  record,  and  which  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  His  disciples 
 taught  as  the  commandment  of  God  to  His  children.  While  they  testify 
 that  it  is  a  new  revelation  to  them  in  this  dispensation,  "the  latter  days," 
 and  that  they  received  through  heavenly  messengers  sent  from  the  throne  of 
 the  great  Jehovah  all  tiie  knowledge  they  possess  of  the  plan  of  salvation, 
 and  also  the  authority  to  preach  the  Gospel  and  administer  in  its  ordi- 
 nances, they  point  out  that  it  is  the  same  Gospel  and  divine  message  that 
 was  revealed  to  man  in  ancient  days  ;  the  "one  faith  "  of  which  Paul  spake 
 to  the  Ephesians  ;  the  everlasting  Gospel,  the  plan  instituted  by  God  for 
 the  salvation  of  His  children — unchangeable,  eternal,  and  transcendently 
 perfect. 
 
 Upon  this  presentation  of  the  case,  then,  are  tliey  to  be  judged.  They 
 thus  place  every  principle  or  doctrine  within  the  field  of  comparison  with 
 the  Holy  Scriptures,  both  in  the  Old  and  the  New  Testament, 
 
 The  Godhead. 
 
 The  first  of  the  Articles  of  Faith  declares  a  belief  "in  God  the  Eternal 
 Father,  and  in  His  Son  Jesus  Christ,  and  in  the  Holy  Ghost."  That  is, 
 that  the  Father  is  a  personage  of  spirit,  glory  and  power,  possessing  all 
 perfection  and  fulness  ;  the  Son  a  personage  of  tabernacle  also,  who  is 
 the  express  image  of  His  Father,  and  possesses  the  same  fulness  with 
 the  Father,  in  whose  image  also  man  is  created  ;  and  the  Holy  Ghost, 
 that  which  bears  record  of  the  Father  and  the  Son,  the  life-giving 
 element  in  all  nature,  the  agent  of  God's  power,  by  which,  through 
 faith,  all  things  are  controlled.  These  three  constitute  the  Supreme 
 governing  power,  the  Godhead,  and  are  one — -above  all,  and  in  all,  and 
 through  all — omnipotent,  omniscient  and  omnipresent. 
 
 The  idea  thus  set  forth  is  that,  in  form,  man  is  the  image  of  his  Creator. 
 The  Bible  contains  no  suggestion  of  a  similarity  in  form  with  any  other  of 
 the  creations  of  the  Almighty.  But  with  respect  to  man  it  is  distinctly 
 expressed  in  Genesis  i.  26,  27  :  "  And  God  said,  Let  us  make  man  in  our 
 own  image,  after  our  likeness  :  and  let  them  have  dominion  over  the  fish  of 
 the  sea,  and  over  the  fowl  of  the  air,  and  over  the  cattle,  and  over  all  the 
 earth,  and  over  every  creeping  thing  that  creepeth  upon  the  earth.     So 
 
66o  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 God  created  man  in  His  own  image  ;  in  the  image  of  Ciod  created  He 
 them." 
 
 Paul,  in  writing  of  God,  says  that  Jesus  was  the  "express  image  of  His 
 person"  (Heb.  i.  3),  being  "in  the  form  of  God"  (Phil.  ii.  6).  In  the 
 record  which  Matthew  has  made  of  the  Lord's  baptism,  he  describes  the 
 action  of  the  three  who  constitute  the  Godhead  :  Jesus  receiving  the 
 baptism  of  water,  the  "  Spirit  of  God  descending  like  a  dove  and  lighting 
 upon  Him,"  and  a  voice — the  voice  of  the  Father — uttering  from  heaven, 
 "  This  is  My  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased  "  (Matt.  iii.  16,  17). 
 The  Redeemer  of  the  world  Himself  testifies  of  their  individuality:  "For 
 as  the  Father  hath  life  in  Himself:  so  hath  He  given  to  the  Son  to  have 
 life  in  Himself;  and  hath  given  Him  authority  to  execute  judgment  also, 
 because  He  is  the  Son  of  man  "  (John  v.  26,  27) ;  "  Ye  have  heard  how 
 I  said  unto  you,  I  go  away,  and  come  again  unto  you.  If  ye  loved  me,  ye 
 would  rejoice,  because  I  said,  I  go  unto  the  Father  :  for  my  Father  is 
 greater  than  I "  (John  xiv.  28);  "Nevertheless,  I  tell  you  the  truth:  it 
 expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away  :  for  if  I  go  not  away,  the  Comforter  will 
 not  come  unto  you ;  but  if  I  depart,  I  will  send  Him  unto  you  "  (John 
 xviii.  7) ;  "  But  when  the  Comforter  is  come,  whom  I  will  send  unto  you 
 from  the  Father,  even  the  Spirit  of  Truth,  which  proceedeth  from  the 
 Father,  He  shall  testify  of  Me  "  (John  xv.  26). 
 
 In  the  solemn  prayer  offered  up  before  His  betrayal,  the  Divine  Master 
 besought  His  Father,  in  behalf  of  His  disciples,  "That  they  all  may  be 
 one  ;  as  Thou,  Father,  art  in  Me,  and  I  in  Thee,  that  they  also  may  be 
 one  in  us  :  that  the  world  may  believe  that  Thou  hast  sent  Me.  And  the 
 glory  which  Thou  gavest  me  I  have  given  them  ;  that  they  may  be  one 
 even  as  we  are  one"  (John  xvii.  21,  22).  The  unity  of  purpose  and  action 
 in  all  things  constitutes  the  oneness.  This  union  Jesus  sought  to  bring  to 
 His  apostles,  that,  each  having  his  distinct  personality,  they  might  be  one, 
 "  even  as  we  are  one." 
 
 Men  Judged  by  their  Works. 
 
 "  We  believe  that  men  will  be  punished  for  their  own  sins,  and  not  for 
 Adam's  transgression." 
 
 By  this  transgression  death  came  into  the  world,  that  men  might  gain 
 the  experience  of  a  mortal  probation,  liut  that  man  should  be  held 
 responsible  for  an  act  in  which  he  had  no  agency  would  evidently  be  an 
 injustice.  Our  Father,  being  a  just  God,  must  therefore  deal  justly  with 
 His  children.  What  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Scriptures  respecting  the  re- 
 sponsibility of  men?  In  Jeremiah  xvii.  10  it  is  announced:  "I  the  Lord 
 search  the  heart,  I  try  the  reins,  even  to  give  every  man  according  to  his 
 ways,  and  according  to  the  fruit  of  his  doings."  As  the  laws  of  truth  and 
 justice  are  inflexible  in  their  operation  and  effect,  judgment  as  certainly 
 follows  evil  as  blessings  result  from  good  deeds. 
 
 The  beloved  apostle,  in  recording  his  vision  of  the  judgment,  tells  us: 
 
THE  MORMONS.  66  r 
 
 "  And  I  saw  the  dead,  small  and  great,  stand  before  God ;  and  the  books 
 were  opened :  and  another  book  was  opened,  which  is  the  book  of  life, 
 and  the  dead  were  judged  out  of  those  tilings  which  were  written  in  the 
 books,  according  to  their  works.  And  the  sea  gave  up  the  dead  which 
 were  in  it ;  and  death  and  hell  delivered  up  the  dead  which  were  in  them : 
 and  they  were  judged  every  man  according  to  their  works  "  (Rev.  xx.  12, 
 13).  Language  can  be  no  plainer  to  inform  mankind  of  the  evidence  that 
 will  be  adduced  for  or  against  them  at  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ.  It  will 
 be  their  deeds  ;  and  from  the  judgment  they  will  make  no  appeal,  for  they 
 cannot  but  realize  its  justice. 
 
 \^y  the  divine  law,  man  is  answerable  for  his  own  sins.  He  is  not 
 compelled  to  bear  the  wrongs  of  another  in  the  reward  which  he  will 
 receive  at  God's  judgment.  The  transgression  of  Adam  was  not  ours, 
 and  can  have  no  ill  effects  upon  us ;  it  rather  becomes  a  blessing  by  the 
 mercy  of  Jehovah.  The  Latter-day  Saints  believe  that,  as  by  Adam  death 
 came  into  the  world,  without  our  action,  so  is  life  the  free  gift  to  all  men 
 through  the  atonement  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  This  is  the  doctrine  of  the 
 Bible.  Paul  expresses  it  thus  :  "  Wherefore,  as  by  one  man  sin  entered 
 into  the  world,  and  death  by  sin  ;  and  so  death  passed  upon  all  men,  for 
 that  all  have  sinned:  therefore  as  by  the  offence  of  one  judgment  came 
 upon  all  men  to  condemnation  ;  even  so  by  the  righteousness  of  one  the 
 free  gift  came  upon  all  men  unto  justification  of  life"  (Rom.  v.  12,  iS). 
 The  Lord  has  permitted  no  doubt  to  remain  respecting  the  sins  for  which 
 men  will  be  punished  and  the  good  for  which  they  will  be  rewarded. 
 His  word  is  :  "  For  the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in  the  glory  of  His  Father 
 with  His  angels ;  and  then  He  shall  reward  every  man  according  to  his 
 works"  (Matt.  xvi.  27).  The  testimony  which  He  gave  to  John  the 
 Divine  on  the  Isle  of  Patmos  was  :  "  I  will  give  every  one  of  you  accord- 
 ing to  your  works"  (Rev.  ii.  23);  "And  behold,  I  come  quickly  ;  and 
 My  reward  is  with  Me,  to  give  every  man  according  as  his  work  shall  be  " 
 (Rev.  xxii.  12). 
 
 The  Atonement. 
 
 "  We  believe  that  through  the  atonement  of  Christ  all  mankind  may  be 
 saved,  by  obedience  to  the  laws  and  ordinances  of  the  Gospel." 
 
 By  this  atonement  is  brought  the  victory  over  death  ;  the  resurrection 
 of  the  body  to  life  ;  the  raising  of  man  to  a  position  where  he  is  not 
 subject  to  death.  But  it  goes  farther  in  the  article  of  faith  read.  It 
 brings  salvation  by  obedience  to  the  Gospel.  Salvation,  then,  is  more 
 than  a  redemption  from  the  fall.  The  latter  comes  to  man  without  his 
 agency,  so  far  as  the  mere  restoration  to  life  is  concerned.  That  is  the 
 doctrine  which  the  apostles  taught.-  "For  since  by  man  came  death,  by 
 man  came  also  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  For  as  in  Adam  all  die, 
 even  so  in  Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive"  (i  Cor.  xv.  21,  22).  Since  the 
 Saviour  brought  to  pass  the  resurrection  and  the  life.  His  atonement  has 
 
662  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 an  universal  application,  and  "  there  shall  be  a  resurrection  of  the  dead, 
 both  of  the  just  and  unjust"  (Acts  xxiv.  15). 
 
 Does  the  atonement  do  more  ?  The  Latter-day  Saints  reply  in  the 
 affirmative.  Matthew  (chap.  i.  21)  records  that  the  angel  declared  to 
 Joseph,  when  foretelling  the  birth  of  the  infant  Jesus,  "For  He  shall  save 
 His  people  from  their  sins."  The  Apostle  Peter  says  :  "  Neither  is  there 
 salvation  in  any  other ;  for  there  is  none  other  name  under  heaven  given 
 among  men,  whereby  we  must  be  saved"  (Acts  iv.  12).  By  obedience  to 
 the  laws  and  ordinances  of  the  Gospel,  salvation  comes  to  man  ;  it  is 
 that  which  is  added  to  the  children  of  men  by  the  atoning  blood  of  the 
 Redeemer,  when  the  requirements  of  His  Gospel  are  complied  with. 
 Until  this  is  done,  there  is  no  salvation  from  sin.  The  Apostle  John 
 makes  this  unequivocal  declaration  :  "  This  then  is  the  message  which  we 
 liave  heard  of  Him,  and  declare  unto  you,  that  God  is  light,  and  in  Him 
 is  no  darkness  at  all.  If  we  say  that  we  have  fellowship  with  Him,  and 
 walk  in  darkness,  we  lie,  and  do  not  the  truth  ;  but  if  we  walk  in  the 
 light,  as  He  is  in  the  light,  we  have  fellowship  one  with  another,  and  the 
 blood  of  Jesus  Christ  His  Son  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin"  (i  John  i.  5-7). 
 If  we  would  be  cleansed  from  all  sin  by  the  blood  of  Christ  Jesus,  the 
 condition  is  that  "  we  walk  in  the  light  as  He  is  in  the  liLrht."  If  this  be 
 not  our  course,  the  apostle  says  "we  lie,  and  do  not  the  truth."  To 
 these  teachings  is  placed  the  seal  and  testimony  of  the  Divine  Master 
 Himself  in  His  sermon  on  the  mount :  "  Not  every  one  that  saith  unto 
 Me,  Lord,  Lord,  shall  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  but  he  that 
 doeth  the  will  of  ^fy  Father  which  is  in  heaven  "  (Matt.  vii.  21). 
 
 The  G0.SPE1.  Ordinances — F.mth. 
 
 "We  believe  that  these  ordinances  are  :  First — Faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus 
 Christ." 
 
 The  principle  of  faith  is  tlie  moving  cause  of  all  action  in  intelligent 
 beings.  Faith  in  the  Lord  is  the  fundamental  principle  leading  to  obedi- 
 ence to  His  will.  It  is  the  assurance  which  we  have  of  unseen  things. 
 By  its  exercise  we  are  alone  able  to  approach  the  throne  of  grace. 
 "  Without  faith  it  is  impossible  to  please  Him  ;  for  he  that  cometh  to 
 God  must  believe  that  He  is,  and  that  He  is  a  rewarder  of  them  that 
 diligently  seek  Him"  (Heb.  xi.  6).  It  is  not  a  mere  passive  belief ;  but 
 being  a  jjrinciple  of  action  and  power,  it  inculcates  works  in  harmony 
 with  itself.  The  Saviour  says:  "Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled;  ye 
 believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  Me.  \''erily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  he 
 that  believeth  on  Me,  the  works  that  I  do  shall  he  do  also  ;  and  greater 
 works  than  these  shall  he  do,  because  I  go  unto  My  Father  "  (John  xiv, 
 I,  12). 
 
 It  is  the  belief  of  the  Latter-day  Saints  that  the  Gospel  is  the  working 
 law  of  Christ;  that  faith  in  Him,  to  have  life,  must  be  accompanied  by 
 works  in  accord  with  the  mental  exercise  of  faith.     As   the  Apostle  James 
 
THE   MORMONS.  663. 
 
 •says  :  "  But  be  ye  doers  of  the  word,  and  not  hearers  only,  deceiving 
 your  own  selves"  (i.  22).  This  apostle  writes,  "  For  as  the  body  without 
 the  spirit  is  dead,  so  faith  without  works  is  dead  also  ";  and  in  the  second 
 chapter  of  his  epistle  (verses  14-24)  he  states  :  "  What  doth  it  profit,  my 
 brethren,  though  a  man  say  he  hath  faith,  and  have  not  works  ?  Can 
 faith  save  him  ?  If  a  brother  or  sister  be  naked,  and  destitute  of  daily 
 food,  and  one  of  you  say  unto  them.  Depart  in  peace,  be  ye  warmed  and 
 filled  ;  notwithstanding  ye  give  them  not  those  things  which  are  needful 
 to  the  body;  wliat  doth  it  profit?  Even  so  faith,  if  it  hath  not  works, 
 is  dead,  being  alone.  V'ea,  a  man  may  say,  Thou  hast  faith  and  I  have 
 works  ;  show  me  thy  faith  without  thy  works,  and  I  will  show  thee  my 
 faith  by  my  works.  'I'hou  believest  that  there  is  one  God  ;  thou  doest 
 well :  the  devils  also  believe,  and  tremble.  But  wilt  thou  know,  O  vain 
 man,  that  faith  without  works  is  dead?  Was  not  Abraham  our  father 
 justified  by  works,  when  he  had  offered  Isaac  his  son  upon  the  altar? 
 Seest  thou  how  faith  wrought  with  his  works,  and  by  works  was  faith 
 made  perfect  ?  And  the  Scripture  was  fulfilled  which  saith,  Abraham 
 believed  (]od,  and  it  was  imputed  unto  him  for  righteousness  :  and  he 
 was  called  the  Kriend  of  God.  Ve  see  then  how  that  by  works  a  man 
 is  justified,  and  not  by  faith  only.' 
 
 The  Lord  saith,  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart, 
 and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind.  This  is  the  first  and  great 
 commandment"  (Matt.  xxii.  37,  1%).  He  also  explains  what  it  is  to  love 
 God  :  "  lie  that  hatii  My  commandments,  and  keepeth  them,  he  it  is 
 that  loveth  Me  :  and  he  that  loveth  Me  shall  be  loved  of  My  Father,  and 
 I  will  love  him,  and  will  manifest  Myself  to  him  "  (John  xiv.  21).  This 
 is  faith  in  and  love  of  God  :  keeping  His  commandments. 
 
 Repexianck. 
 
 **  Second — Repentance." 
 
 To  those  who,  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  believed  on  the  apostles'  words, 
 and  had  awakened  within  their  hearts  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus,  Peter  gave 
 the  law  of  the  Gospel  :  "  Repent,  and  be  baptized  every  one  of  you  in 
 the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  for  the  remission  of  sins,  and  ye  shall  receive 
 the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  For  the  promise  is  unto  you,  and  to  your 
 children,  and  to  all  that  are  afar  oft",  even  as  many  as  the  Lord  our  God 
 shall  call  "  (Acts  ii.  38,  39).  This  law  was  universal  in  its  application. 
 It  was  "  to  all  that  are  afar  off,  even  as  many  as  the  Lord  our  God 
 shall  call." 
 
 When  John  the  Baptist  came  in  the  wilderness  of  Judea,  as  the  mes- 
 senger before  the  Lord,  preaching  "  the  beginning  of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus 
 Christ,  the  Son  of  God,"  he  proclaimed,  "  Repent  ye,  for  the  kingdom  of 
 heaven  is  at  hand  "  (Matt  iii.  2).  Of  those  who  presented  themselves  for 
 baptism  he  required  conformity  to  the  doctrine  which  preceded  it.  If 
 they  had  not  repented,  the  ordinance  of  baptism  was  refused  to  them 
 
664  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 When  many  of  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees  came,  he  called  them  a 
 "  generation  of  vipers,"  and  demanded  that  they  "  bring  forth  therefore 
 fruits  meet  for  repentance  "  (Matt.  iii.  7,  8).  God  "  commandeth  all  men 
 everywhere  to  repent " — to  turn  from  evil  and  walk  in  righteousness,  for 
 therein  only  is  salvation.  The  Lord  says,  "  Except  ye  repent  ye  shall 
 all  likewise  perish  "  (Luke  xiii.  3). 
 
 Baptism. 
 
 "  Third — Baptism  by  immersion  for  the  remission  of  sins." 
 
 To  the  repentant  believer  this  is  the  "  baptism  of  repentance  for  the 
 remission  of  sins"  taught  by  John  the  Baptist  (Mark  i.  4).  On  the  day 
 of  Pentecost  Peter  pointed  the  way  to  salvation,  "  Repent,  and  be  baptized 
 every  one  of  you  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  for  the  remission  of  sins  " 
 (Acts  ii.  38).  When  the  jailor  sought  to  be  saved,  Paul  and  Silas  "  spake 
 unto  him  the  word  of  the  Lord,"  and  he  "  was  baptized,  he  and  all  his, 
 straightway"  (Acts  xvi.  30-33). 
 
 So  important  is  this  ordinance  for  admission  into  the  Church  of  God, 
 that  the  Lord  Jesus  insisted  on  receiving  it  at  the  hands  of  John  the 
 Baptist,  who  was  authorized  to  administer  it.  John  had  preached  that 
 there  should  come  after  him  One  who  should  baptize  "  with  the  Holy 
 Ghost  and  with  fire,"  and  when  Jesus  presented  Himself  on  Jordan's 
 banks  the  prophet  recognised  that  mightier  One.  He  felt  his  own  weak- 
 ness in  the  presence  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  said,  "  I  have  need  to  be 
 baptized  of  Thee,  and  comest  Thou  to  me?"  But  Jesus  knew  the  law 
 of  God.  He  knew  that  it  was  necessary  for  even  the  Son  of  man  to  enter 
 at  the  door,  and  obey  the  ordinance  which  His  Father  had  appointed. 
 Therefore  He  answered  John,  "  Suffer  it  to  be  so  now,  for  thus  it  be- 
 cometh  us  to  fulfil  all  righteousness"  (Matt.  iii.  15).  Then  the  Saviour 
 of  the  world  went  down  into  the  river  Jordan  and  was  baptized  of  John. 
 When  He  came  out  of  the  water,  there  was  given  that  glorious  manifesta- 
 tion of  the  approval  by  His  Father  of  the  act  of  submission  to  the  divine 
 law,  "  and  lo,  the  heavens  were  opened  unto  Him,  and  He  saw  the 
 Spirit  of  God  descending  like  a  dove,  and  lighting  upon  Him  :  and  lo,  a 
 voice  from  heaven,  saying,  This  is  My  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well 
 l)leased  "  (Matt.  iii.  i6,  17). 
 
 If  it  was  necessary  for  the  Son  of  God,  the  Redeemer  of  the  world,  to 
 receive  the  ordinance  of  baptism  at  the  hands  of  one  having  authority  to 
 administer  it,  that  He  might  "  fulfil  all  righteousness,"  wherein  can  sinful 
 man  liope  to  enter  by  any  other  way  ?  And  when  that  act  of  obedience 
 to  law  on  the  part  of  the  Divine  Master  was  signalized  by  the  glorious 
 descent  upon  Him  of  the  Holy  (ihost,  and  brought  forth  from  the  Eternal 
 Father  the  solemn  declaration  that  He  was  well  pleased  with  the  Son  who 
 had  just  passed  through  the  baptism  of  water,  who  among  men  dare  say 
 that  the  ordinance  is  vain,  and  useless,  and  non-essential;  that  it  is  not 
 of  paramount  importance  to  those  who  would  do  the  will  of  the  Father  ? 
 
THE  MORMONS.  665 
 
 The  Lord  also  declared  that  the  baptism  of  John  was  "the  counsel  of 
 God  " — this  ordinance  that  was  "  the  baptism  of  repentance  for  the 
 remission  of  sins."  Said  Jesus,  "  All  the  people  that  heard  him,  and  the 
 publicans,  justified  God,  being  baptized  with  the  baptism  of  John  ;  but 
 the  Pharisees  and  lawyers  rejected  the  counsel  of  God  against  themselves, 
 being  not  baptized  of  him  "  (Luke  vii.  29,  30).  As  the  Lord  went  forth 
 in  His  ministry,  preaching  the  Gospel  of  the  kingdom,  there  came  to  Him 
 Nicodemus,  a  ruler  of  the  Jews.  To  him  Jesus  said,  "  Except  a  man  be 
 born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God  "  (John  iii.  3).  Nicodemus 
 did  not  fully  comprehend  this  saying,  and  made  further  inquiry,  receiving 
 a  reply  in  language  that  none  need  misunderstand  ;  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say 
 unto  thee,  except  a  man  be  born  of  water  and  of  the  Spirit,  he  cannot 
 enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God "  (John  iii.  5).  Therefore,  when  the 
 Master  commissioned  His  disciples  and  sent  them  out,  after  they  had 
 been  '•  endowed  with  power  from  on  high,"  the  command  which  they 
 received  and  obeyed  was :  "  Go  ye  therefore,  and  teach  all  nations, 
 baptizing  them  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the 
 Holy  Ghost  :  teaching  them  to  observe  all  things  whatsoever  I  have  com- 
 manded you :  and,  io,  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the 
 world"  (ALitt.  xxviii.  19,  20). 
 
 Li  this  labour  of  the  ministry,  to  which  they  had  been  called  and 
 ordained  of  the  Lord,  He  fulfilled  His  promise,  and  was  with  them  : 
 ^'  And  they  went  forth,  and  preached  everywhere,  the  Lord  working  with 
 them,  and  confirming  the  word  with  signs  following"  (ALark  xvi.  20). 
 The  apostles  taught,  "  Repent,  and  be  baptized  every  one  of  you  in  the 
 name  of  Jesus  Christ  for  the  remission  of  your  sins "  (Acts  ii.  38)  ; 
 "  Know  ye  not,  that  so  many  of  us  as  were  baptized  into  Jesus  Christ 
 were  baptized  into  His  death?  Therefore  we  are  buried  with  Him  by 
 baptism  into  death  ;  that  like  as  Christ  was  raised  up  from  the  dead  by 
 the  glory  of  the  Father,  even  so  we  also  should  walk  in  newness  of  life. 
 For  if  we  have  been  planted  together  in  the  likeness  of  His  death,  we 
 shall  be  also  in  the  likeness  of  His  resurrection  "  (Rom.  vi.  3-5)  ;  "  Buried 
 \vith  Him  in  baptism,  wherein  also  ye  are  risen  with  Him  through  the 
 faith  of  the  operation  of  God,  who  hath  raised  Him  from  the  dead" 
 (Col.  ii.  12).  Here,  then,  is  the  Gospel  doctrine  :  Baptism  by  immersion 
 for  the  remission  of  sins — performed  by  one  having  authority  ;  the  birth, 
 the  burial,  the  planting  in  the  watery  element,  without  which  ordinance 
 the  l>ord  has  said  no  man  can  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
 
 Baptism  for  the  Dead. 
 
 It  may  be  suggested  that  there  are  millions  of  the  human  family  who 
 have  not  had  the  opportunity  of  receiving  of  the  baptism  of  repentance 
 by  one  having  divine  authority — millions  who  never  even  heard  the  name 
 of  Jesus  Christ.      The  Latter-day  Saints  believe  that  the  Gospel  provides 
 
666  RELIGION'S  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 for  all ;  that  there  is  ai'^d  can  be  no  exception  ;  that  every  one  who  will 
 may  partake  of  the  watefs  of  life  freely;  that  God  is  no  respecter  of 
 persons,  but  judges  men  by'-^'^eir  works.  A  plan  of  salvation  that  is 
 adapted  to  the  few,  that  does  no?*open  the  door  to  every  being  within 
 the  great  brotherhood  of  man,  is  unwc?J'tliy  of  the  Creator  and  God  of  the 
 universe.  The  Gospel  of  the  Lord  must  bi?^  perfect,  even  as  He  is  perfect, 
 and  reach  to  all  humanity. 
 
 The  query  is  made,  How  did  the  thief  who  died  on  the  cross  enter  the 
 kingdom  of  heaven  ;  there  is  no  record  of  his  bapt.'.'^ni  ?  Let  the  Srrip- 
 tures  give  the  answer:  "And  he  said  unto  Jesus,  llord,  remember  me 
 when  Thou  comest  into  Thy  kingdom.  And  Jesus  said  unto  him.  Verily 
 I  say  unto  thee.  To-day  shalt  thou  be  with  .Me  in  paradisi?  "  (Luke  xxiii. 
 42,  43),  The  Lord  did  not  say  he  could  enter  His  kingdoni',  for  He  had 
 told  Nicodemus  that  to  do  that  it  was  necessary  to  be  "  born  61  the  water 
 and  of  the  spirit";  but  He  promised  the  penitent  thief  that  011  that  day 
 he  should  be  with  Him  in  paradise.  Is  that  not  heaven?  Let  us 
 examine  and  see,  for  on  the  proper  ascertainment  of  this  fact  detpends  a 
 great  principle  of  truth.  ^ 
 
 The  body  of  Jesus  was  three  days  in  the  tomb,  when  the  spirit  again 
 entered  into  it.  A\'hen  the  Redeemer  had  risen,  ISLiry  came  tO  tlic 
 sepulchre  and  found  that  the  body  of  her  INLister  was  not  there.  •  She 
 began  to  inquire,  when  she  heard  a  voice  which  she  recognised  as  th'-it  of 
 the  Lord,  to  whom  she  turned.  "  Jesus  saith  unto  her.  Touch  Me  "ot ; 
 for  I  am  not  yet  ascended  to  My  Father  :  but  go  to  My  brethren,  and  say 
 unto  them,  I  ascend  unto  My  Father,  and  your  Father ;  and  to  My  ('jod, 
 and  your  God  "  (John  xx.  17).  Here  is  the  testimony  of  Jesus  Hir^self 
 that  during  the  three  days  subsequent  to  His  crucifixion,  while  His  body 
 lay  in  tlie  tomb.  His  spirit  did  not  go  to  heaven  or  the  presence  of  His* 
 Father.     Logically,  it  must  follow,  neither  did  that  of  the  thief. 
 
 Where,  then,  did  He  go?  As  Jesus  was  not  in  His  J-'ather's  presJe^ce 
 during  these  three  days,  where  was  He  ?  The  Scriptures  have  not  le'ft  us 
 in  doubt  upon  this  point.  Jesus  transferred  to  Peter  the  keys  ol  the 
 kingdom  of  heaven,  and  placed  him  at  die  head  of  the  Twelve  .\poi->tles. 
 Surely  he  is  a  competent  witness  ;  he  says  :  "  For  Christ  also  hath  once 
 suffered  for  sins,  the  Just  for  the  unjust,  that  He  might  bring  us  to  God, 
 being  put  to  death  in  the  flesh,  but  (juickened  by  the  Spirit:  by  which  alsO 
 He  went  and  preached  unto  the  spirits  in  prison"  (i  Peter  iii.  18,  iq)- 
 During  the  time  of  His  absence  from  the  body  He  was  preaching  "unt-o 
 the  spirits  in  prison  " — the  place  where  the  thief  also  went. 
 
 This  doctrine  of  preaching  the  Gospel  to  the  dead  was  taught  by  \\i^ 
 Lord  to  His  apostles,  just  previous  to  His  crucifixion:  "Verily,  verily,  I 
 say  unto  you.  The  hour  is  coming,  and  new  is,  when  the  dead  shall  he^ir 
 the  voice  of  the  Son  of  (]od  :  and  they  that  hear  shall  live.  Marvel  not 
 at  this:  for  the  hour  is  coming,  in  the  which  all  that  are  in  the  graves  shal' 
 hear  }lis  voice"  (John  v.  25,  28).     On  the  same  subject,  the  chief  apostle 
 
THE  MORMONS.  667 
 
 says  :  "  For,  for  this  cause  was  the  Gospel  preached  also  to  them  that  are 
 dead,  that  they  might  be  judged  according  to  men  in  the  flesh,  but  live 
 according  to  God  in  the  spirit"  (i  Peter  iv.  6). 
 
 The  dead  are  to  be  "judged  according  to  men  in  the  flesh,"  and  as  the 
 Lord  has  declared  that  "  Except  a  man  be  born  of  the  water  and  of  the 
 Spirit,"  he  cannot  enter  the  kingdom,  what  shall  the  dead  who  "  hear  the 
 voice  of  the  Son  of  God  "  do  ?  Is  the  Gospel  plan  imperfect  in  that  it 
 does  not  provide  a  way  for  those  who  have  had  no  opportunity  to  receive 
 that  birth  ?  God  forbid.  Such  an  injustice  cannot  be.  Paul,  in  writing 
 to  the  Corinthians  respecting  the  resurrection,  says  :  "Else  what  shall  they 
 do  which  are  baptized  for  the  dead,  if  the  dead  rise  not  at  all  ?  Why  then 
 are  they  baptized  for  the  dead?"  (1  Cor.  xv.  29).  The  answer  is  complete. 
 The  dead  may  be  officiated  for  by  those  who  dwell  in  the  flesh. 
 
 This  is  the  doctrine  of  salvation  for  the  dead,  an  important  part  of  the 
 glorious  Gospel  that  is  broad  as  the  universe,  and  from  everlasting  to  ever- 
 lasting. Py  receiving  the  baptism  for  the  dead,  those  who  have  passed 
 into  the  spirit-world  have  opened  to  them  the  door  of  the  kingdom  of 
 heaven.  "  But  one  man  cannot  act  in  the  place  of  another,"  is  the 
 suggestion  that  comes.  The  objector  has  surely  forgotten,  or  has  not  con- 
 templated the  great  truth  that  the  whole  Gospel  plan  taught  in  the  Scriptures 
 rests  upon  the  vicarious  atonement  of  the  Lord  Jesus  (Jhrist. 
 
 The  Holy  Ghost. 
 
 "  Fourth — Laying  on  of  hands  for  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost." 
 When  the  Apostle  Peter  preached  to  those  who  sought  salvation,  he  said, 
 "Repent,  and  be  baptized  every  one  of  you  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ 
 for  the  remission  of  sins,  and  ye  shall  receive  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
 For  the  promise  is  unto  you,  and  to  your  children,  and  to  all  that  are  afar 
 off,  even  as  many  as  the  Lord  our  God  shall  call  "  (Acts  ii,  38,  39).  Here 
 is  the  offer  to  all  of  this  blessed  boon,  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  after 
 baptism  for  the  remission  of  sins.  It  was  to  them,  and  their  children,  and 
 to  all  that  are  afar  off.  There  was  no  exclusiveness  in  this ;  the  Gospel 
 was  open  to  all.  By  conforming  to  its  laws,  men  receive  the  benefits  of 
 their  own  obedience.  It  is  the  great  natural  order  of  cause  and  effect. 
 Comply  with  the  conditions,  the  result  must  follow.  The  sincerely  re- 
 pentant believer,  baptized  in  the  proper  manner,  and  by  an  authorized 
 servant  of  God,  is  entitled  to  tlie  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost  as  a  matter  of 
 right. 
 
 How  is  he  to  receive  it  ?  Just  as  did  the  baptized  believers  under  the 
 ministry  of  the  apostles :  '"  Now  when  the  apostles  which  were  at 
 Jerusalem  heard  that  Samaria  had  received  the  word  of  God,  they  sent 
 unto  them  Peter  and  John  :  who,  when  they  were  come  down,  prayed  for 
 them,  that  they  might  receive  the  Holy  Ghost  (for  as  yet  He  was  fallen 
 upon  none  of  them,  only  they  were  baptized  in  the  name  of  the  Lord 
 Jesus).     Then  laid  they  their  hands  on  them,  and  they  received  the  Holy 
 
668  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF    THE    WORLD. 
 
 Ghost"  (Acts  viii.  14-17).  The  Ephesians  also  "were  baptized  in  the 
 name  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  And  when  Paul  had  laid  his  hands  upon  them, 
 the  Holy  Ghost  came  on  them ;  and  they  spake  with  tongues  and 
 prophesied"  (Acts  xix.  5,  6). 
 
 Of  the  office  of  the  Holy  Ghost  the  Lord  says  :  "  Howbeit  when  He,  the 
 Spirit  of  Truth,  is  come,  He  will  guide  you  into  all  truth  ;  for  He  shall  not 
 speak  of  Himself;  but  whatsoever  He  shall  hear,  that  shall  He  speak:  and 
 He  will  show  you  things  to  come.  He  shall  glorify  Me :  for  He  shall  receive 
 of  Mine,  and  shall  show  it  unto  you"  (John  xvi.  13,  14).  Here  is  the 
 promise  of  guidance  and  revelation  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  Its  gifts  are 
 wisdom,  knowledge,  faith,  healing,  working  of  miracles,  discernment  of 
 spirits,  divers  kinds  of  tongues,  etc.  (i  Cor.  xii.  4-1 1).  Wherever  the 
 Holy  Ghost  is  bestowed,  there  are  its  gifts  and  graces  manifest. 
 
 Divine  Authoritv. 
 
 "  We  believe  that  a  man  must  be  called  of  God,  '  by  prophecy  and  by 
 the  laying  on  of  hands,'  by  those  who  are  in  authority,  to  preach  the 
 Gospel  and  administer  in  the  ordinances  thereof." 
 
 The  testimony  of  Scripture  upon  this  is  that  Jesus  "  ordained  twelve, 
 that  they  should  be  with  Him,  and  that  He  might  send  them  forth  to 
 preach,  and  to  have  power  to  heal  sicknesses,  and  to  cast  out  devils " 
 (Mark  iii.  14,  15).  To  His  apostles  He  said  :  "Ye  have  not  chosen  Me, 
 but  I  have  chosen  you,  and  ordained  you,  that  ye  should  go  and  bring 
 forth  fruit,  and  that  your  fruit  should  remain  :  that  whatsoever  you  shall 
 ask  of  the  Father  in  My  name,  He  may  give  it  you  "  (John  xv.  16)  ;  and  of 
 them,  in  praying  to  His  Father,  He  testified  :  "  As  Thou  hast  sent  Me 
 into  the  world,  even  so  have  I  also  sent  them  into  the  world"  (John  xvii. 
 18).  His  Father  had  sent  Him,  and  had  "given  Him  authority,"  and  in 
 like  manner  He  gave  authority  to  His  apostles.  They  in  turn  com- 
 missioned others  to  act  in  the  ministry — "they  ordained  them  elders  in 
 every  church  "  (Acts  xiv.  23).  As  Paul  has  said,  "No  man  taketh  this 
 honour  unto  himself,  but  he  that  is  called  of  God,  as  was  Aaron"  (Heb.  v. 
 4).     Aaron  was  called  by  the  voice  of  God,  through  Moses  (Exod.  iv. 
 
 14,  15)- 
 
 The  acts  of  those  who  are  authorized  to  officiate  in  the  ordinances  of 
 the  Gospel  to  whom  are  committed  the  keys  of  the  kingdom — are  recog- 
 nised by  the  Lord,  and  are  given  full  force.  "Whatsoever  thou  shalt  bind 
 on  earth  shall  be  bound  in  heaven ;  and  whatsoever  thou  shalt  loose  on 
 earth  shall  be  loosed  in  heaven"  (Matt.  xvi.  19).  But  those  not  so 
 authorized  receive  no  such  recognition. 
 
 •'b' 
 
 Officers. 
 
 "A\'e  believe  in  the  same  organization  that  existed  in  the  primitive 
 Church,  viz.  :  apostles,  proi)hets,  pastors,  teachers,  evangelists,  etc." 
 The  Apostle  Paul  taught  that  there  was  "  one  Lord,  one  faith,  one 
 
THE  MORMONS.  669 
 
 baptism  " ;  and  said  of  the  Redeemer,  "  Wherefore  He  saith,  when  He 
 ascended  up  on  high,  He  led  captivity  captive,  and  gave  gifts  unto  men. 
 And  He  gave  some,  apostles;  and  some,  prophets;  and  some,  evangelists; 
 and  some,  pastors  and  teachers"  (Eph.  iv.  8,  11).  He  also  preached: 
 "Now  ye  are  the  body  of  Christ,  and  members  in  particular.  And  (iod 
 hath  set  some  in  the  Church,  first  apostles,  secondarily  prophets,  thirdly 
 teachers,  after  that  miracles,  then  gifts  of  healing,  helps,  governments, 
 diversities  of  tongues"  (i  Cor.  xii.  27,  28). 
 
 Cod  set  these  in  the  Church,  is  the  apostle's  testimony.  Shall  man 
 say  that  they  are  not  proper?  The  Lord  has  never  changed  the  organiza- 
 tion ;  on  the  contrary,  these  officers  were  given  "  for  the  perfecting  of  the 
 saints,  for  the  work  of  the  ministry,  for  the  edifying  of  the  body  of  Christ : 
 till  we  all  come  in  the  unity  of  the  faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son 
 of  God,  unto  a  perfect  man,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness 
 of  Clirist ;  that  we  henceforth  be  no  more  children,  tossed  to  and  fro,  and 
 carried  about  with  every  wind  of  doctrine,  by  the  sleight  of  men,  and 
 cunning  craftiness,  whereby  they  lie  in  wait  to  deceive"  (Eph.  iv.  12-14). 
 
 Is  there  work  for  the  ministry?  Are  the  Saints  yet  to  be  perfected? 
 Are  we  still  far  from  the  unity  of  the  faith  ?  Are  we  less  than  the  stature 
 of  the  fulness  of  Christ  in  the  knowledge  of  God  ?  With  the  present 
 tspectaclc  of  jarring  sects,  religious  discords,  and  disputations  of  doctrines, 
 aio  intelligent  jicrson  would  venture  to  give  other  than  an  affirmative  reply 
 to  these  incjuiries.  There  is  evidently  abundant  work  for  the  ministry, 
 and  therefore  a  necessity  for  apostles,  prophets,  and  all  the  officers  that 
 God  has  set  in  His  Church.  Wherever  that  Church  is  organized  upon  the 
 earth,  there  will  these  officers  be  found,  with  all  the  authority,  gifts  and 
 powers  that  accompany  the  offices.  The  Church  which  has  them  not  is 
 not  the  Church  of  Christ,  according  to  the  evidence  presented  by  the  word 
 of  God. 
 
 Spiritual  Gifts. 
 
 "We  believe  in  the  gift  of  tongues,  prophecy,  revelation,  visions,  healing, 
 interpretation  of  tongues,  etc." 
 
 These  are  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit,  which  Christ  promised  should  follow 
 the  believers.  Tliey  are  the  signs  which  confirmed  the  preaching  of  the 
 Gospel  by  the  apostles:  "And  He  said  unto  them.  Go  ye  into  all  the 
 world,  and  preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature.  He  that  believeth  and  is 
 baptized  shall  be  saved  ;  but  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned.  And 
 these  signs  shall  follow  them  that  believe :  In  My  name  shall  they  cast 
 out  devils;  they  shall  speak  with  new  tongues;  they  shall  take  up  serpents; 
 and  if  they  drink  any  deadly  thing,  it  shall  not  hurt  them  ;  they  shall  lay 
 hands  on  the  sick,  and  they  shall  recover.  So  then  after  the  Lord  had 
 spoken  unto  them.  He  was  received  up  into  heaven,  and  sat  on  the  right 
 hand  of  God.  And  they  went  forth  and  preached  everywhere,  the  Lord 
 working  with  them,  and  confirming  the  word  with  signs  following " 
 .(Mark  xvi.  15-20). 
 
670  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Of  these  are  the  miracles  wrought  by  our  Lord  and  Saviour.  God  hath 
 set  in  tlie  Church  "miracles,  gifts  of  healings,  helps,  governments,  diversi- 
 ties of  tongues"  (i  Cor.  xii.  26).  Never  at  any  time  has  He  said  they 
 should  be  done  away.  He  is  an  unchangeable  being,  a  God  of  miracles 
 to-day  as  much  as  at  any  period  of  the  world's  history.  He  cannot  be 
 otherwise  and  still  occupy  His  exalted  position.  He  cannot  be  shorn 
 of  His  power  to  manifest  the  gifts  of  His  Spirit  among  the  children  of 
 men,  when  the  latter  comply  with  His  laws.  His  arm  is  not  shortened, 
 nor  His  power  to  save  diminished.  If  miracles,  and  healings,  and  prophecy, 
 and  the  other  gifts  of  the  Spirit  do  not  exist  among  men,  it  is  for  the  same 
 reason  that  in  ancient  days  the  Lord  Jesus,  in  "  His  own  country,"  "  could 
 do  no  mighty  work,  save  tliat  He  laid  His  hands  on  a  few  sick  folk  and 
 healed  them,"  namely,  "because  of  their  unbelief"  (Mark  vi.  6,  7). 
 
 Those  who  dwell  on  the  earth  to-day  are  equally  the  children  of  our 
 Father  with  those  who  lived  nineteen  centuries  ago,  and  have  an  equal 
 claim  on  His  blessings  if  they  observe  His  laws  and  exercise  the  same 
 faith  in  Him  as  did  His  disciples  anciently.  "  For  the  promise  is  unto 
 you,  and  to  your  children,  and  to  all  that  are  afar  off,"  said  Peter,  in  his 
 proclamation  of  the  Gospel,  of  which  Paul  said,  "  But  though  we,  or  an 
 angel  from  heaven,  preach  any  other  Gospel  unto  you  than  that  which  we 
 have  preached  unto  you,  let  him  be  accursed  "  (Gal.  i.  8). 
 
 The  Apostasv. 
 
 The  Latter-day  Saints  believe  that  but  for  the  apostasy  of  the  i)rimitive 
 Christian  Churcli,  it  would  have  remained  with  the  same  organization, 
 powers  and  ordinances  ;  with  aposdes,  prophets,  healings,  miracles,  and 
 all  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit,  up  to  the  present  time.  I'hat  these  ceased  to 
 exist  among  men  is  proof  that  there  has  been  a  departure  from  the  Gospel. 
 If  the  orranization  had  remained  it  would  have  been  in  the  same  form  as 
 God  placed  it,  and  the  true  successors  to  the  aposdes  would  have  followed 
 their  example  when  they  filled  the  vacancy  made  in  the  Twelve  by  Judas's 
 apostasy — by  selecting  Matthias  to  be  numbered  with  the  apostles  (Acts  i. 
 26).  But  there  was  no  succession  to  the  Twelve  through  the  generations 
 which  succeeded  them,  therefore  the  organization  ceased  to  exist  among 
 men. 
 
 If  there  was  to  be  an  event  of  such  importance  in  the  world's  history  as 
 a  great  apostasy,  surely  the  disciples  would  have  had  an  intimation  of  it 
 through  the  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  By  reference  to  their  writings 
 we  find  that  they  had  this  knowledge,  and  prophesied  concerning  it.  i'aul 
 wrote  to  Timothy  that  the  time  would  come  when  men  would  not  endure 
 sound  doctrine,  but  would  heap  to  themselves  teachers,  and  turn  away 
 from  the  trutli  (2  Tim.  iv.  3,  4).  He  also  taught  that  in  the  last  days 
 perilous  times  should  come,  when  men  should  be  "lovers  of  pleasure  more 
 than  lovers  of  God  ;  having  a  form  of  godliness,  but  denying  the  powcji 
 thereof"  (2  Tim.  iii.  1-5). 
 
THE  MORMONS.  671 
 
 To  the  Thessalonians  was  borne  this  testimony  respecting  the  great 
 apostasy  :  "  Now  we  beseech  you,  brethren,  by  the  coming  of  our  Lord 
 Jesus  Christ,  and  by  our  gathering  together  unto  Him,  that  ye  be  not  soon 
 shaken  in  mind,  or  be  troubled,  neither  by  spirit,  nor  by  word,  nor  by 
 letter  as  from  us,  as  that  the  day  of  Christ  is  at  hand.  Let  no  man  deceive 
 you  by  any  means :  for  that  day  shall  not  come,  except  there  come  a 
 falling  away  hrst,  and  that  man  of  sin  be  revealed,  the  son  of  perdition  ; 
 who  opposeth  and  exalteth  himself  above  all  that  is  called  (iod,  or  that  is 
 worshi[)ped  ;  so  that  he  as  God  sitteth  in  the  temple  of  God,  showing  him- 
 self that  he  is  God.  Remember  ye  not,  that,  when  I  was  yet  with  you,  I 
 told  you  these  things  ?  And  now  ye  know  what  withholdelh  that  he  might 
 be  revealed  in  his  time.  For  the  mystery  of  inicpiity  doth  already  work  : 
 only  he  who  now  letteth  will  let,  until  he  be  taken  out  of  the  way " 
 (2  Thess.  ii.  1-7).  "  The  "mystery  of  iniquity"  was  making  its  influence 
 felt  at  that  early  day.  Paul  had  warned  the  neople  of  what  was  coming  ; 
 as  he  says,  "  When  I  was  yet  with  you  I  told  you  these  things." 
 
 In  the  record  of  the  vision  given  to  the  Apostle  John,  which  he  says 
 was  "the  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ,"  we  are  informed  that  John  was  shown 
 "  thiiiirs  which  shall  be  hereafter."  Of  one  of  the  beasts  which  he  saw 
 as  typical  of  a  power  whicii  should  rise  up  in  the  earth,  it  is  said,  "  And  it 
 was  given  to  him  to  make  war  with  the  saints,  and  to  overcome  them  : 
 and  power  was  given  him  over  all  kindreds,  and  tongues,  and  nations  " 
 (Rev.  xiii.  7). 
 
 This  is  some  of  the  scriptural  evidence  concerning  the  great  power 
 which  was  to  deceive  the  nations  of  the  earth,  and  pervert  the  Gospel  by 
 teaching  men  and  women  that  apostles  and  prophets  were  not  necessary, 
 and  that  the  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost  were  done  away,  till  Christendom  has 
 been  brought  to  the  apostate  condition  in  which  it  is  to-day.  So  complete 
 was  the  work  of  this  "mystery  of  iniquity,"  of  the  beast  that  "made  war 
 with  the  saints  and  overcame  them,"  that  it  was  necessary  for  an  angel  to 
 be  sent  from  heaven  with  the  Gospel  message  for  mankind.  John  says 
 of  this  event :  "  And  I  saw  another  angel  fly  in  the  midst  of  heaven, 
 having  the  everlasting  Gospel  to  preach  unto  them  that  dwell  on  the  earth, 
 and  to  every  nation,  and  kindred,  and  tongue,  and  people"  (Rev.  xiv.  6) 
 
 The  Book  of  Mormon. 
 
 "We  believe  the  Bible  to  be  the  word  of  God,  as  far  as  it  is  translated 
 correctly  ;  we  also  believe  the  Book  of  Mormon  to  be  the  word  of  God."' 
 
 For  people  who  believe  the  Bible  to  be  the  word  of  God  to  also  believe 
 that  another  record  is  His  word,  the  two  must  be  consistent  with  each 
 other.  There  can  be  no  conflict  between  them.  For  both  to  be  the  Word 
 of  God,  they  must  be  divinely  inspired,  and  their  teachings  be  in  perfect 
 harmony.  AVhile  it  would  by  no  means  be  certain  that  a  record  which 
 has  passed  through  so  many  hands  as  have  the  Bible  manuscripts,  with  a 
 
672  KEJJlUOUS  systems  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 loss  of  some,  at  least,  of  the  sacred  writings,  would  contain  a  reference 
 to  another  record  which  was  to  be  made  by  a  separate  branch  of  the 
 House  of  Israel,  yet  it  would  not  be  unreasonable  to  hope  that  possibly 
 an  allusion  to  it  might  be  found  in  some  of  the  prophetic  writings. 
 
 This  hope  is  not  without  foundation  with  respect  to  the  Book  of  Mormon» 
 which  is  a  history  of  a  part  of  the  House  of  Israel,  on  the  American  conti- 
 nent. The  Prophet  Ezekiel  says  :  "  The  word  of  the  Lord  came  again 
 unto  me,  saying.  Moreover,  thou  son  of  man,  take  thee  one  stick,  and  write 
 upon  it,  For  Judah,  and  for  the  children  of  Israel  his  companions  :  then 
 take  another  stick,  and  write  upon  it,  For  Joseph,  the  slick  of  l^jhraiin, 
 and  for  all  the  House  of  Israel  his  companions  :  and  join  them  one  to 
 another  into  one  stick  :  and  they  shall  become  one  in  thine  hand.  And 
 when  the  children  of  thy  people  shall  speak  unto  thee,  saying,  Wilt  thou 
 not  show  unto  us  what  thou  meanest  by  these?  Say  unto  them.  Thus 
 saith  the  Lord  (lod  :  Behold,  I  will  take  the  stick  of  Joseph,  which  is  in 
 the  hand  of  Ephraim,  and  the  tribes  of  Israel  his  fellows,  and  will  put  them 
 with  him,  even  with  the  stick  of  Judah,  and  they  shall  be  one  in  Mine 
 hand"  (F/.ekiel  xx.wii.  15   19). 
 
 The  "stick  of  Judah"  is  the  record  which  we  have  of  the  lews — the 
 Bible  ;  the  "  stick  of  Ephraim  '"  is  the  other  record,  which  we  have  in  the 
 Book  of  Mormon  ;  and  both  records  have  become  one  in  the  hand  of  the 
 Lord.  Hosea  says  that  to  ICphraim  had  been  written  the  great  things  of  the 
 law  (Hosea  xiii.  12),  and  the  Saviour  informed  His  disciples  of  others  that 
 He  must  visit :  "  And  other  sheep  I  have,  which  are  not  of  this  fold  :  them 
 also  I  must  bring,  and  they  shall  hear  My  voice  ;  and  there  shall  be  one 
 fold,  and  one  shepherd"  (John  x.  16).  These  other  sheep  were  to  hear 
 His  voice — to  receive  a  personal  visit  from  Him. 
 
 The  history  of  the  coming  forth  of  the  Book  of  Mormon  is,  briefly 
 stated,  that  its  existence  and  whereabouts  were  revealed  to  the  Prophet 
 Joseph  Smith  by  an  angel  sent  from  heaven.  This  angel  said  his  name 
 was  Moroni,  and  that  in  the  year  a. d.  420  he  had  buried  the  sacred  record 
 in  the  hill  Cumorah,  which  is  located  in  the  northern  part  of  the  State  of 
 New  York.  Alter  Joseph  had  received  several  visits  and  had  been 
 instructed  by  the  heavenly  messenger,  the  plates  were  entrusted  to  his  care, 
 •with  a  Urim  and  Thummim  for  their  translation.  Each  plate  was  six  inches 
 wide  and  eight  inches  long,  and  not  ciuite  as  thick  as  common  tin.  They 
 were  filled  with  engravings  in  ICgyptian  characters,  and  bound  together  in 
 a  volume,  as  the  leaves  of  a  book,  with  three  rings  running  through  the 
 whole.  The  volume  was  something  near  six  inches  in  thickness,  a  part  of 
 ic  being  sealed.  The  characters  on  the  unsealed  part  were  small  and 
 beautifully  engraved.  The  whole  book  exhibited  many  marks  of  antitjuity 
 in  its  construction,  and  much  skill  in  the  art  of  engraving.  The  Urim  and 
 Thummim  consisted  of  two  transparent  stones  set  in  the  rim  of  a  bow 
 fastened  to  a  breast])late.  The  unsealed  portion  of  the  plates  was  trans- 
 lated, and  the  whole  were  again  taken  charge  of  by  the  angel.     The  part 
 
THE   MORMONS.  673 
 
 wliicli  had  been  translated  was  published  early  in  1830,  as  the  Book  of 
 Mormon,  according  to  the  command  of  God.  Jt  is  an  abridgment  made 
 by  the  i'rof)het  Mormon,  father  of  Moroni,  from  the  records  of  his  fore- 
 fathers.    ()n  the  lille-[>age  is  this  statement  : 
 
 "  Wherefore  it  is  an  abridgment  of  the  record  of  the  people  of  Nefihi, 
 and  also  of  the  I^amanites  ;  written  to  the  Lamanites  who  are  a  remnant 
 of  the  liouse  of  Israel  ;  and  also  to  ]{t\\  and  (ientile  :  written  by  way  of 
 commandment,  and  also  by  the  Spirit  of  |>rf)[)he(y  and  of  revelation. 
 Written  and  sealed  up,  and  hid  np  unto  the  Lord,  that  they  might  not  be 
 destroyed  ;  to  come  forth  by  the  gift  and  jiower  of  f  iod  unto  the  interjjre- 
 tation  thereof:  sealed  by  the  hand  of  Moroni,  and  hid  iij)  unto  the  Lord, 
 to  come  forth  in  due  time  by  the  way  of  (lentiie;  the  interpretation  thereof 
 Ijy  the  gift  of  (iod. 
 
 "  An  abridgment  taken  from  the  ]5ook  of  lOther  also  ;  which  is  a  record 
 of  the  peo[)le  of  Jared;  who  were  scattered  at  the  time  the  Lord  confounded 
 the  language  of  the  people  when  they  were  building  a  tower  to  get  to 
 heaven  ;  which  is  to  show  unto  the  remnant  of  the  House  of  Israel  what 
 great  things  the  Lord  hath  done  for  their  fathers  ;  and  that  they  may  know 
 the  covenants  of  the  Lord,  that  they  are  not  cast  off  forever ;  and  also  to, 
 the  convincing  of  the  Jew  and  (lentile  that  JESUS  is  the  CHRIST,  the 
 I'yrLRN.XL  GOD,  manifesting  Himself  unto  all  nations.  And  now  if  there 
 are  faults,  they  are  the  mistakes  of  men:  wherefore  condemn  not  the  things 
 of  God,  that  ye  may  be  found  spotless  at  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ." 
 
 Several  persons  were  permitted  to  view  the  plates,  among  the  number  be- 
 ing the  "  Three  Witnesses,"  who  thus  testify  of  what  they  saw  and  heard  : 
 
 "  THJi  Tics'tiMONY  OF  Thkke  Witnkssks. — Beit  known  unto  all  nations, 
 kindreds,  tongues,  and  people  unto  whom  this  work  shall  corne,  that  we, 
 through  the  grace  of  Ciod  the  Father,  and  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  have  seen 
 the  plates  which  contain  tliis  record,  which  is  a  record  of  the  people  of 
 Nephi,  and  also  of  the  Lamanites,  their  brethren,  and  also  of  the  people 
 of  Jared,  who  came  from  the  tower  of  which  hath  been  spoken;  and  we 
 also  know  that  they  have  been  translated  by  the  gift  and  power  of  (j(.d, 
 for  His  voice  hath  declared  it  unto  us;  wherefore  we  know  of  a  surety 
 that  the  work  is  true.  And  we  also  testify  tliat  we  have  seen  the  engrav- 
 ings which  are  upon  the  plates  ;  and  they  have  been  shown  unto  us  by  the 
 power  of  God,  and  not  of  man.  And  we  declare  with  words  of  soberness, 
 that  an  angel  of  God  came  down  from  heaven,  and  he  brought  and  laid 
 before  our  eyes,  that  we  beheld  and  saw  the  plates,  and  the  engravings 
 thereon  ;  and  we  know  that  it  is  by  the  grace  of  God  the  Lather,  and  our 
 Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  we  beheld  and  bear  record  that  these  things  are 
 true  ;  and  it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes,  nevertheless  the  voice  of  the  Lord 
 commanded  us  that  we  should  bear  record  of  it ;  wherefore,  to  be  obedient 
 unto  the  commandments  of  God,  we  bear  testimony  of  these  things.  And 
 we  know  that  if  we  are  faithful  in  Christ,  we  shall  rid  our  garments  of  the 
 blood  of  all  men,  and  be  found  spotless  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ, 
 
 VOL.    I, — pt.  2.  Y  Y 
 
674  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF    THE    WORLD. 
 
 and  shall  dwell  with  Him  eternally  in  the  heavens.  And  the  honour  be  to 
 the  Father,  and  to  the  Son,  and  to  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  is  one  God. 
 Amen. 
 
 Oliver  Cowdery, 
 David  Whitmer, 
 Martin  Harris." 
 
 From  that  testimony  they  never  varied.  They  were  separated  from  the 
 Latter-day  Saints,  having  departed  from  the  Church,  to  which  they  belonged 
 for  a  time  after  its  organization.  But  nothing  could  induce  them  to  change 
 their  statement.  It  was  true,  and  they  knew  it.  In  their  old  age  Oliver 
 Cowdery  and  Martin  Harris  returned  to  the  Church.  David  Whitmer  never 
 did.  He  was  the  last  to  survive,  his  death  having  occurred  in  January 
 1888,  at  Richmond,  Missouri.  When  on  his  deathbed,  he  called  his  family 
 and  friends  around  him,  and  made  to  them  a  solemn  declaration  that  he 
 knew  the  Book  of  Mormon,  and  his  testimony  thereto,  to  be  true. 
 There  were  also  eight  others  who  testify  as  follows  : — 
 "  The  Testimony  of  Eight  Witnesses. — Be  it  known  unto  all 
 nations,  kindreds,  tongues,  and  people  unto  whom  this  work  shall  come, 
 that  Joseph  Smith,  Jun.,  the  translator  of  this  work,  has  shown  unto  us  the 
 plates  of  which  hath  been  spoken,  which  have  the  appearance  of  gold; 
 and  as  many  of  the  leaves  as  the  said  Smith  hath  translated,  we  did  handle 
 with  our  hands;  and  we  also  saw  the  engravings  thereon,  all  of  which  has 
 the  appearance  of  ancient  work,  and  of  curious  workmanship.  And  this 
 we  bear  record  with  words  of  soberness,  that  the  said  Smith  has  shown 
 unto  us,  for  we  have  seen  and  hefted,  and  know  of  a  surety  that  the  said 
 Smith  has  got  the  plates  of  which  we  have  spoken.  And  we  give  our 
 names  unto  the  world,  to  witness  unto  the  world  that  which  we  have  seen ; 
 and  we  lie  not,  God  bearing  witness  of  it. 
 
 Christian  Whitmer,  Hiram  Page, 
 
 Jacob  Whitmer,  Joseph  Smith,  Sen. 
 
 Peter  Whitmer,  Jun.  Hyrum  Smith, 
 
 John  Whitmer,  Samuel  H.  Smith." 
 
 Like  the  three,  they  never  faltered  in  maintaining  that  what  they  had 
 subscribed  to  respecting  the  Book  of  Mormon  was  the  truth,  and  was  with 
 them  an  absolute  knowledge. 
 
 Of  further  evidence  concerning  the  authenticity  of  the  Book  of  Mormon, 
 there  is  in  this  sketch  an  opportunity  of  saying  but  little.  Regarding  the 
 external  proof,  it  must  suffice  to  merely  call  attention  to  the  developments 
 of  archaeological  researcli  on  the  American  continent.  When  the  Book  of 
 Mormon  was  first  published,  it  was  the  accepted  theory  of  the  civilized 
 world  that  America  was  not  peopled  by  any  nation  of  ancient  times  which 
 had  made  marked  i)rogress  in  civilization.  But  subsequently,  from  the 
 appearance  of  Captain  Dupai.x's  book  in  1834-5,  followed  by  the  evidence 
 
THE  MORMONS.  675 
 
 of  Lord  Kingsborough,  Stevens  and  Catherwood,  Powell,  and  other  well- 
 known  archaeologists  and  explorers,  a  change  came  with  respect  to  this 
 matter,  until  now  there  is  no  doubt  of  the  advanced  position  reached  by 
 ancient  American  civilization,  as  well  as  of  the  great  antiquity  of  the  native 
 American  races.  The  ruined  temples  and  crumbling  palaces  of  the  ancient 
 cities  of  Uxmal,  Copan,  Palenque,  Quiche,  and  scores  of  others,  whose 
 architecture  rivals  that  of  any  contemporaneous  cities  of  the  Old  World, 
 bear  silent  but  incontrovertible  testimony  to  the  historical  truth  of  the 
 Book  of  Mormon. 
 
 With  internal  evidence  of  its  divine  authenticity,  the  volume  itself  is 
 amply  provided.  It  presents  a  code  of  ethics  whose  purity  and  godliness 
 are  unexcelled  by  any  publication  that  has  seen  the  light  of  day.  In  its 
 pages  there  are  no  anachronisms  and  no  contradictions.  The  various 
 writers  are  in  perfect  accord.  Compared  with  the  great  truths  of  science 
 and  nature,  there  are  no  absurdities  and  no  inconsistencies.  Between  it 
 and  the  Bible  there  is  complete  harmony  in  doctrine  and  in  prophecy.  It 
 is  a  book  that  would  be  profitable  reading  to  any  thoughtful  person.  No 
 intelligent,  honest  and  sincere  seeker  after  truth  can  give  it  thorough  ex- 
 amination and  consideration,  with  an  understanding  of  the  circumstances 
 under  which  it  was  brought  forth,  without  being  convinced  that  in  giving 
 to  the  world  the  Book  of  Mormon,  God  has  wrought  one  of  the  greatest 
 miracles  of  any  age  or  time. 
 
 Revelation. 
 
 "  We  believe  all  that  God  has  revealed,  all  that  He  does  now  reveal, 
 and  that  He  will  yet  reveal  many  great  and  important  things  pertaining  to 
 the  kingdom  of  God." 
 
 When  the  Lord  promised  His  disciples  the  Holy  Ghost,  He  informed 
 them  that  it  would  teach  them  all  things  (John  xiv.  20)  ;  "  He  shall  re- 
 ceive of  Mine,  and  shall  show  it  unto  you"  (John  xvi.  14).  This  was  a 
 direct  promise  of  revelation  through  the  medium  of  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
 therefore  belief  in  revelation  is  a  scriptural  doctrine.  It  is  the  communica- 
 tion to  men  of  knowledge  from  God  :  "  Howbeit,  when  He,  the  Spirit  of 
 Truth,  is  come.  He  will  guide  you  into  all  truth  :  for  He  shall  not  speak 
 of  Himself;  but  whatsoever  He  shall  hear,  that  shall  He  speak  ;  and  He 
 will  show  you  things  to  come"  (John  xvi.  13).  This  is  the  word  of  the 
 Lord — that  the  Holy  Ghost  should  reveal  things  to  come.  The  same 
 condition  which  caused  the  withdrawal  of  the  other  gifts  of  the  Spirit,  also 
 caused  the  withdrawal  of  the  gift  of  revelation.  It  was  because  of  the 
 apostasy — the  unbelief  of  man.  Never  has  the  Lord  said  that  He  would 
 reveal  no  more  to  the  children  of  men.  But  He  has  forbidden  men  to 
 add  to  or  take  from  that  which  He  reveals  (Rev.  xxiii.  18,  19).  Whenever 
 the  Almighty  has  authorized  servants  upon  the  earth,  there  is  with  them 
 the  gift  of  revelation.  "  Surely  the  Lord  God  will  do  nothing,  but  He 
 revealeth  His  secret  unto  His  servants  the  prophets"  (Amos  iii.  7).     The 
 
676  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 apostle  says  that  if  a  man  lacks  wisdom,  and  asks  in   faith  for  God  to 
 bestow  it  on  him,  He  will  do  so  liberally  (James  i.  5,  6). 
 
 Restoration  of  the  Gospel. 
 
 The  tidings  which  the  Latter-day  Saints  bear  to  the  world  are  that  the 
 Gospel  has  been  restored  to  earth  in  this  dispensation  ;  that  the  present 
 is  the  time  of  which  Paul  wrote,  "  that  in  the  dispensation  of  the  fulness 
 of  times  He  might  gather  together  in  one  all  things  in  Christ,  both  which 
 are  in  heaven,  and  which  are  on  earth  ;  even  in  Him  "  (Eph.  i.  10).  It 
 is  this  restoration  which  John  the  Revelator  saw  in  vision  on  the  Isle  of 
 Patmos,  and  of  which  he  says  :  "And  I  saw  another  angel  fly  in  the  midst 
 of  heaven,  having  the  everlasting  Gospel  to  preach  unto  them  that  dwell 
 on  the  earth,  and  to  every  nation,  and  kindred,  and  tongue,  and  people, 
 saying  with  a  loud  voice,  Fear  God  and  give  glory  to  Him  ;  for  the  hour 
 of  His  judgment  is  come  :  and  worship  Him  that  made  heaven  and  earth, 
 and  the  sea,  and  the  fountains  of  waters  "  (Rev.  xiv.  6,  7). 
 
 The  Latter-day  Saints  testify  that  this  angel  has  appeared,  and  has 
 restored  the  Gospel,  which  is  now  being  preached  to  the  nations.  It  is  the 
 same  now  as  anciently,  with  all  the  gifts,  powers,  and  blessings.  Nothing 
 is  lacking.  It  is  presented  to  all  people  for  their  consideration.  The 
 most  thorough  investigation  is  invited.  There  is  nothing  to  conceal  or 
 hold  back.  It  is  not  the  province  of  the  Gospel  to  put  its  light  under  a 
 bushel,  but  to  entreat  all  men  to  come  forward  and  test  its  truth.  "  Prove 
 all  things  ;  hold  fast  that  which  is  good,"  was  the  admonition  of  the 
 Apostle  Paul.     The  same  invitation  is  extended  to-day. 
 
 Men  are  given  intelligence ;  they  are  in  possession  of  reasoning  power. 
 It  is  an  insult  to  Deity  to  say  that  He  forbids  us  to  use  these  in  seeking 
 for  knowledge.  He  asks  for  intelligent  conformity  to  the  eternal  laws  of 
 truth,  not  for  blind  obedience  to  the  dogmas  of  men.  He  has  given  to 
 man  his  free  agency.     As  expressed  in  the  hymn  : — 
 
 "  Know  this,  that  every  soul  is  free 
 To  choose  his  life  and  what  he'll  be  ; 
 For  this  eternal  trulii  is  given, 
 That  God  will  force  no  man  to  heaven. 
 
 "  He'll  call,  persuade,  direct  aright — 
 Ijless  him  with  wisdom,  love  and  light — 
 In  nameless  ways  be  good  and  kind, 
 Hut  never  force  the  human  mind. 
 
 "  Freedom  and  reason  make  us  men  ; 
 'i'ake  tiiese  away,  what  are  we  then  ? 
 Mere  animals,  and  just  as  wt-ll 
 The  bea-ls  may  think  of  heaven  or  hell." 
 
 This  free  agency  was  recognised  by  the  Divine  Master,  who  said  to  the 
 Jews,  "Search  the  Scriptures  ;  for  in  them  ye  tiiink  ye  have  eternal  life  : 
 and  they  are  they  which  testify  of  Me  "  (John  v.  39).  To  this  testimony 
 and  counsel  of  the  Lord  the  Latter-day  Saints  direct  attention. 
 
THE  MORMONS.  677 
 
 Other  Doctrixes. 
 
 Of  the  other  principles  beHeved  in  by  the  Latter-day  Saints,  there  is  not 
 now  time  to  speak  at  length.  These  are,  the  Gathering  of  Israel ;  the 
 Restoration  of  the  Ten  Tribes  ;  the  Support  of  Earthly  Governments  for 
 the  Protection  of  Human  Rights;  the  Building  up  of  Zion  and  the 
 Rebuilding  of  Jerusalem  ;  the  Resurrection  ;  the  Second  Coming  of  Christ 
 to  reign  as  Lord  of  lords  and  King  of  kings — all  of  which  are  doctrines  of 
 the  Bible,  as  clearly  maintained  in  its  teachings  as  those  which  have  been 
 spoken  of. 
 
 It  may  be  well  to  refer  to  their  ordinance  of  marriage,  of  which  there 
 appears  to  be  such  a  misunderstanding  in  the  world.  This  can  be  briefly 
 stated.  The  Latter-day  Saints  believe  that  marriage  is  ordained  of  God  ; 
 that  He  has  revealed  to  them  its  everlasting  covenant ;  that  when  the 
 ceremony  is  performed  by  His  authority,  the  union  of  husband  and  wife  is 
 eternal — that  it  is  bound  on  earth  and  bound  in  the  heavens.  "  And  they 
 twain  shall  be  one  flesh  :  so  then  they  are  no  more  twain,  but  one  flesh. 
 What  therefore  God  hath  joined  together,  let  not  man  put  asunder"  (Mark 
 X.  8,  9).  It  is  a  covenant  that  is  entered  into  voluntarily  by  the  parties  ; 
 there  can  be  no  compulsion  in  this  or  in  any  of  the  ordinances  of  the 
 Gospel.  The  Saints  also  believe  that  the  patriarchal  order  of  marriage, 
 which  was  observed  by  holy  men  and  women  of  old,  is  in  consonance  with 
 the  laws  of  God  and  of  nature.  This  order  includes  a  plurality  of  wives, 
 as  it  was  taught  and  practised  by  prophets  of  God  in  ancient  times.  Many 
 people  revile  against  it,  frequently  because  they  are  ignorant  of  its  harmony 
 with  natural  laws,  but  it  ill  becomes  those  who  profess  a  belief  in  Chris- 
 tianity to  say  that  God  ever  gave  to  His  children  a  law  that  was  sinful  in 
 its  nature  or  pernicious  in  its  effects;  to  thus  reproach  the  justice  and 
 righteousness  of  the  Almighty  is  blasphemy. 
 
 With  the  Latter-day  Saints  the  principle  of  celestial  marriage  is  the 
 union  of  husband  an(3  wife  for  time  and  eternity.  They  believe  the  family 
 relation  exists  in  the  celestial  kingdom  of  God.  They  also  have  pronounced 
 views  upon  the  purpose  of  the  union  of  the  sexes.  They  do  not  believe 
 that  its  object  is  the  gratification  of  passion,  but  that  such  an  idea  is 
 wicked  in  its  inception  and  damning  in  its  practice.  They  believe  that  a 
 departure  from  the  paths  of  virtue  is  punishable  by  the  severest  penalties, 
 and  that  the  violation  of  the  marriage  covenant  is  an  offence  which  ranks 
 next  to  the  crime  of  murder. 
 
 A  Glance  at  History. 
 
 The  Prophet  Joseph  Smith  was  born  at  Sharon,  Windsor  County,  Ver- 
 mont, U.S.A.,  December  23rd,  1S05,  his  father  being  a  farmer.  In  the 
 spring  of  the  year  1820,  when  Joseph  was  a  little  over  fourteen  years  of 
 age,  he  became  deeply  interested  in  religious  matters.     He  read  the  pas- 
 
678  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 sage  in  James  i.  5  :  "  If  any  of  you  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God,  that 
 giveth  to  all  men  liberally,  and  upbraideth  not,  and  it  shall  be  given  him." 
 ^^'ith  full  reliance  upon  that  promise  in  the  Divine  Word,  this  humble  lad 
 prayed  to  God  and  received  the  heavenly  manifestation.  He  continued 
 faithful,  and  was  instructed  by  messengers  from  heaven,  and  received  and 
 brought  forth  the  Book  of  Mormon.  When  these  facts  became  known  to 
 the  people  in  the  vicinity  where  he  resided,  he  was  made  the  object  of 
 false  and  slanderous  reports,  and  severe  persecutions.  Many  attempts 
 were  made  to  kill  him,  and  every  device  was  used  to  get  the  plates  from 
 him ;  but  the  Lord  protected  him,  and  people  began  to  believe  his  testi- 
 mony. In  1829,  John  the  Baptist  came  and  ordained  him  to  the  Aaronic 
 Priesthood.  In  the  same  year  the  Apostles  Peter,  James  and  John 
 ordained  him  to  the  apostleship. 
 
 In  obedience  to  the  command  of  God,  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  was 
 once  more  organized  on  the  earth,  with  the  promise  from  the  Lord  that  it 
 would  never  again  be  taken  from  among  men  ;  that  it  was  restored  pre- 
 paratory to  the  ushering  in  of  Christ's  millennial  reign  on  earth.  Some  of 
 its  members  were  ordained  and  sent  out  to  preach.  Those  who  received 
 their  testimony  and  were  baptized  were  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost  by  the 
 laying  on  of  hands,  and  the  word  was  confirmed  with  signs  following.  The 
 Church  rapidly  increased  in  membership,  and  branches  were  organized  in 
 many  of  the  States.  A  temple  was  erected  in  Kirtland,  Ohio.  The  State 
 of  Missouri  became  the  principal  place  for  the  gathering  of  the  people; 
 but  because  they  would  not  join  in  the  practices  of  the  lawless  element 
 there,  and  were  believers  in  an  unpopular  religion,  an  organized  mob  drove 
 them  from  their  habitations,  contrary  to  law,  justice,  and  humanity,  to 
 wander  on  the  bleak  prairies,  in  wintry  weather,  till  they  left  the  tracks  of 
 their  blood  on  the  frozen  ground.  INIen,  women  and  children  were  sub- 
 jected to  the  most  fiendish  outrages^starved,  tortured,  butchered.  This 
 was  in  a  land  that  boasted  of  religious  freedom  and  tolerance  ! 
 
 Finally,  about  twelve  thousand  who  had  escaped  the  exterminating  order 
 of  Missouri's  mob  found  a  resting-place  in  Illinois,  and  built  up  the  beauti- 
 ful city  of  Nauvoo.  But  the  refuge  was  only  temporary,  for  the  bigot  and 
 the  criminal  united  in  a  relentless  and  bloody  warfare  upon  them.  Less 
 than  six  years  after  their  expulsion  from  Missouri,  their  Prophet  was  assas- 
 sinated in  Carthage  jail,  while  in  the  hands  of  the  officers  of  the  law,  and 
 under  the  pledged  protection  of  the  governor  of  the  State,  Thomas  Ford. 
 This  was  on  June  27,  1844.  Joseph  Smith  had  committed  no  offence; 
 he  was  guilty  of  no  wrong.  "  The  law  cannot  reach  him,  but  powder  and 
 ball  shall  !  "  was  the  cry  of  his  murderers.  The  blood  of  the  martyred 
 ])rophet  and  his  fellow-religionists  still  cries  to  God  for  vengeance ! 
 
 The  enemies  of  the  Saints,  however,  were  doomed  to  disappointment, 
 for  the  death  of  the  prophet  did  not  stop  the  work,  or  break  up  the 
 Church  organization.  The  leadership  devolved  on  the  Twelve  Apostles, 
 with   Brigham  Young  as  their  President ;   even  greater  energy  was  dis- 
 
THE  MORMONS.  679 
 
 played  than  before,  and  the  temple  at  Nauvoo  was  soon  completed. 
 Fiendish  plots  were  laid,  and  barbarous  plans  adopted  to  blacken  the 
 character  of  the  "  Mormon  "  people,  and  make  them  appear  abominable  in 
 the  eyes  of  the  public.  Numerous  atrocities  were  committed  by  the  mobo- 
 crats,  who  falsely  attributed  them  to  the  Saints,  and  thus  aroused  public 
 indignation  against  them. 
 
 Hoping  to  secure  immunity  from  these  unjustifiable  attacks,  they  con- 
 sented to  move  from  the  State,  the  mob  agreeing  to  allow  them  to  remain 
 in  peace  a  given  time,  so  the  exodus  could  be  accomplished.  This  agree- 
 ment was  soon  disregarded  by  the  persecutors,  who  were  reckless,  and 
 impatient  to  despoil  the  Saints.  When  a  portion  of  the  latter  had  left 
 Nauvoo,  the  remnant  was  attacked  by  an  armed  force,  and  driven  inta 
 Iowa  in  a  destitute  condition.  General  Thomas  L.  Kane,  of  Philadelphia, 
 who  passed  that  way  a  few  days  afterward,  related  his  experience  in  a 
 lecture  before  the  Historical  Society  of  Pennsylvania.  The  following  is  aa 
 extract  from  his  address  :  "  Dreadful,  indeed,  was  the  suffering  of  these 
 forsaken  beings  ;  bowed  and  cramped  by  cold  and  sunburn,  alternating  as 
 each  weary  day  and  night  dragged  on,  they  were,  almost  all  of  them,  the 
 crippled  victims  of  disease.  They  were  there  because  they  had  no  homes, 
 nor  hospital,  nor  poor-house,  nor  friends  to  offer  them  any.  They  could 
 not  satisfy  the  feeble  cravings  of  their  sick  ;  they  had  not  bread  to  quiet 
 the  fractious  hunger-cries  of  their  children.  Mothers  and  babes,  daughters 
 and  grandparents,  all  of  them  alike,  were  bivouacked  in  tatters,  wanting 
 even  covering  to  comfort  those  whom  the  sick  shivers  of  fever  were  search- 
 ing to  the  marrow.  These  were  Mormons,  famishing  in  Lee  County,  Iowa, 
 in  the  fourth  week  of  the  month  of  September,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord 
 1846.  The  city — it  was  Nauvoo,  Illinois.  The  Mormons  were  the  owners 
 of  that  city,  and  the  smiling  country  around.  And  those  who  had  stopped 
 their  ploughs,  who  had  silenced  their  hammers,  their  axes,  their  shuttles,  and 
 their  workshop  wheels  ;  those  who  had  put  out  their  fires,  who  had  eaten 
 their  food,  spoiled  their  orchards,  and  trampled  under  foot  their  thousands 
 of  acres  of  unharvested  bread — these  were  the  keepers  of  their  dwellings, 
 the  carousers  in  their  temple,  whose  drunken  riot  insulted  the  ears  of  their 
 dying." 
 
 Out  into  the  trackless  American  wilds,  into  an  Indian  country,  the 
 "  Mormons  "  wended  their  way,  weary  and  destitute,  for  more  than  fifteen 
 hundred  miles,  their  pathway  being  marked  by  the  graves  of  their  dead. 
 The  history  of  their  privations  and  sufferings  is  harrowing  in  the  extreme. 
 The  lives  of  not  less  than  a  thousand  of  their  number  were  sacrificed  in 
 the  relentless  persecutions  connected  with  the  exodus  from  Illinois.  But 
 God  opened  their  way,  and  as  a  result  of  their  unity,  humility  and  faith 
 through  severe  tribulations  and  deep  sorrows,  they  were  guided  to  a 
 refuge  in  the  valley  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake.  Three  years  later,  in  1850, 
 Congress  created  the  Territory  of  Utah.  Under  the  territorial  form  of 
 government,  the  governor,   secretary,  marshals,  postmasters,  election  and 
 
68o  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 other  territorial  oflkers  are  appointed  by  the  President  of  the  United 
 States. 
 
 In  their  new  home,  the  Saints  increased  in  numbers,  and  were  beginning 
 to  enjoy  some  of  the  comforts  of  life  as  a  reward  of  their  toil,  when,  in 
 1857,  the  national  government  was  induced,  through  the  misrepresenta- 
 tions of  some  of  its  officials,  to  send  an  army  against  the  "Mormons,"  who 
 prepared  for  another  exodus,  and  to  defend  themselves.  But  the  time 
 required  in  such  an  undertaking  gave  the  government  an  opportunity  to 
 discover  that  it  had  been  misled,  and  to  change  its  course.  The  record  of 
 the  expedition,  with  its  expense  of  $37,000,000,  stands  as  a  monument  of 
 the  folly  of  judging  a  matter  hastily. 
 
 The  current  of  popular  opinion,  however,  had  set  in  strongly  against  the 
 Saints,  and  it  is  difficult  to  change  it ;  but  the  majority  of  those  with  whom 
 they  are  now  in  contact  are  not  the  lawless  element  of  Missouri  and  Illi- 
 nois, so  that  the  violence  of  former  times  is  no  longer  used  against  the  body 
 of  the  people  where  they  are  known.  But  the  adverse  feeling  has  caused 
 legislation  hostile  to  them.  One  feature  of  their  religion  that  has  been 
 attacked  is  plurality  of  wives.  Now  that  they  have  contested  the  question 
 legally  to  the  highest  court  in  the  land,  where  the  decision  has  been  un- 
 favourable to  them,  they  bow  to  the  law,  content  to  leave  the  issue  between 
 the  nation  that  has  raised  its  hand  against  them,  and  the  God  of  Israel,  in 
 whose  justice,  mercy,  and  omnipotence  they  have  perfect  confidence. 
 Their  Church  property  has  also  been  seized  by  the  government — property 
 which  was  the  voluntary  gift  of  Church  members,  for  the  support  of  the 
 poor,  the  building  of  temples  to  the  Lord,  and  similar  purposes. 
 
 Present  Condition. 
 
 The  results  of  the  industry,  integrity  and  thrift  of  the  Saints,  as  shown 
 by  their  present  condition,  are  a  complete  refutation  of  the  accusations  of 
 evil  made  against  them.  A  corrupt  tree  cannot  bring  forth  good  fruit. 
 Utah,  the  chief  centre  of  their  gathering  |;lace,  has  a  pojjulation  of  about 
 210,000,  seventy-five  per  cent,  being  "  Mormons."  Ninety  per  cent,  of  the 
 heads  of  families  live  in  their  own  houses  and  on  their  own  lands.  The 
 fruitful  orchards,  rich  fields  and  farms,  successful  industries,  and  beautiful 
 cities,  towns  and  villages,  present  to  the  view  a  paradise  upon  earth  ;  while 
 the  vigour  and  cheerfulness  of  old  and  middle-aged  and  young  betoken 
 the  health,  prosperity  and  happiness  which  are  God's  own  gifts  to  this 
 peoi)le,  in  whose  hearts  dwells  more  abundantly  than  in  those  of  any  other 
 community  that  love  of  God  and  of  their  own  fellow-men  which  is  the  fruit 
 of  a  pure  and  noble  life  in  the  service  of  the  great  Creator. 
 
 Not  alone  in  Utah  do  the  Lattcr-ilay  Saints  find  a  home.  Their  hun- 
 dreds of  settlements  bedeck  the  mountain  valleys  from  the  province  of 
 Alberta,  in  Canada,  through  Montana,  Idaho,  Nevada,  Wyoming,  Utah, 
 Colorado,  Arizona,  and  New  Mexico  in  the  United  States,  to  Chihuahua, 
 
THE  MORMONS.  68 1 
 
 in  Old  Mexico,  on  either  side  of  a  line  which  reaches  fifteen  hundred  miles 
 along  the  backbone  of  the  American  continent. 
 
 As  an  ecclesiastical  organization,  the  first  officers  in  the  Church  are 
 divinely  commissioned  apostles  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  divine  authority  is 
 possessed  by  the  whole  body  of  priesthood,  down  to  the  office  of  deacon. 
 Almost  the  entire  male  membership  of  the  Church  is  included  in  this 
 classification ;  while  there  are  organizations  for  women  and  children. 
 About  three  hundred  districts,  or  wards,  are  united  in  larger  organizations, 
 called  Stakes  of  Zion,  all  combining  in  a  perfect  system. 
 
 Future   Destiny. 
 
 The  Saints  have  an  abiding  faith  in  the  future  glorious  destiny  of  the 
 work  in  which  they  are  engaged.  From  its  inception  there  has  been  steady 
 ami  rapid  progress.  Its  elders  have  carried  the  glad  tidings  to  the  nations 
 as  God  has  given  them  strength.  They  have  not  preached  for  money 
 nor  divined  for  hire.  Freely  they  have  received ;  freely  they  give. 
 Persecution  has  followed  those  who  have  obeyed  the  Gospel,  just  as  it  did 
 anciently.  But  with  each  wave  of  adversity  the  Church  has  grown  stronger, 
 and  its  opponents  have  been  restricted  in  their  ability  to  inflict  injuries  on 
 its  members.  Each  successive  blow  of  its  foes  has  fallen  more  lightly  than 
 the  one  which  preceded  it ;  while  the  Saints  have  been  brightened  and 
 made  better  by  the  experience  gained  in  drawing  nearer  to  the  Lord.  No 
 Latter-day  Saint  has  any  doubt  of  the  ultimate  triumph  of  the  principles  he 
 has  received  in  the  Gospel.  They  form  the  plan  of  life,  the  power  of  God 
 unto  salvation.  Tlie  Church  is  organized  never  again  to  be  overcome. 
 Its  destiny  is  to  continue  to  increase  until  its  Founder  and  Head,  the  Lord 
 Jesus  Christ,  will  establish  His  eternal  Kingdom,  and  righteousness  shall 
 rule  from  the  rivers  to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 
 
 The  Gospel  Message. 
 
 The  purpose  of  the  Gospel  is  to  lead  us  back  to  God,  improved  by  the 
 knowledge  and  experience  we  have  gained.  There  is  no  truth  in  any  de- 
 partment of  life  that  is  without  its  pale  ;  no  knowledge  that  is  beyond  its 
 reach.  Its  truth  is  the  sum  of  all  existence,  the  knowledge  of  things  that 
 have  been,  that  are,  and  that  will  be.  God  is  truth,  and  His  Gospel  is  the 
 plan  whereby  we  may  be  saved  in  His  presence.  This  is  the  doctrine  that 
 our  Lord  and  Saviour  taught ;  this  is  the  message  given  to  the  Latter-day 
 Saints,  and  which  they  proclaim  to  the  world.  They  call  upon  all  men  to 
 repent  and  do  the  will  of  God,  They  invite  sincere  seekers  after  truth 
 everywhere.  They  present  to  the  world  an  example  of  the  marvellous 
 power  of  the  Gospel  they  have  obeyed.  By  their  fruits  they  show  its 
 effects.  They  have  solved  the  problem  of  a  happy,  prosperous,  and  con- 
 tented life,  free  from  sin  and  sorrow,  from  poverty  and  idleness,  from 
 hatred  and  hypocrisy.     They  present  to   the  rest  of  mankind  the  example 
 
682  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  a  people  who  put  into  practice  their  belief  in  being  honest,  industrious, 
 true,  chaste,  benevolent,  and  in  doing  good  to  all  men.  If  there  is  any- 
 thing virtuous,  lovely,  or  of  good  report,  or  praiseworthy,  they  seek  after 
 those  things. 
 
 To  all  men  they  bear  the  message  of  the  Gospel  which  has  made  them 
 thus.  They  leave  no  room  for  deceit  and  delusion.  They  claim  to  have 
 divine  authority  and  divine  principles,  and  they  offer  the  proof,  which  is 
 in  the  reach  of  every  true,  honest,  virtuous  man  and  woman.  It  is  the  test 
 which  the  Lord  has  commanded  them  to  proffer  to  mankind,  the  same  that 
 He  applied  to  Himself:  "  My  doctrine  is  not  Mine,  but  His  that  sent  Me. 
 If  any  man  will  do  His  will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine,  whether  it  be  of 
 God,  or  whether  I  speak  of  Myself"  (John  vii.  i6,  17). 
 
 There  can  be  no  mistake  about  it,  for  if  it  be  not  of  God,  He  will  not 
 give  the  knowledge.  But  tens  of  thousands  of  Latter-day  Saints  bear  wit- 
 ness that  they  have  received  the  testimony  from  Him.  It  is  true,  and  we 
 bear  you  witness  now  of  its  truth.  Hereby  we  know  that  we  know  Him, 
 that  we  keep  His  commandments.  The  Apostle  John  says  :  "  Whosoever 
 transgresseth  and  abideth  not  in  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  hath  not  God.  He 
 that  abideth  in  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  he  hath  both  the  Father  and  the 
 Son.  If  there  come  any  unto  you,  and  bring  not  this  doctrine,  receive  him 
 not  into  your  house,  neither  bid  him  God  speed  :  for  he  that  biddeth  him 
 God  speed  is  partaker  of  his  evil  deeds"  (2  John  9-1 1). 
 
 That  we  do  bring  this  doctrine,  and  that  it  is  true,  is  the  testimony 
 which  we  now  give,  and  which  we  will  meet  before  the  pleasing  bar  of  the 
 Great  Jehovah,  the  eternal  Judge  of  both  quick  and  dead.  And  may  the 
 grace  of  God  the  Father,  whose  throne  is  high  in  the  heavens,  and  the 
 Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  sitteth  on  the  right  hand  of  His  power  until  all 
 things  shall  become  subject  unto  Him,  be  and  abide  for  ever  wiih  those 
 who  seek  to  serve  Him  in  spirit  and  in  truth.     Amen. 
 
683 
 
 THE  JEWS  IN  MODERN  TIMES. 
 
 By  Professor  D.  W.  Marks 
 
 ( Chief  Minister,  West  London  Syftagogue  of  British  Jews). 
 
 In  the  lecture  I  .im  to  deliver,  on  "The  Jews  in  Modern  Times,"  I  start 
 from  the  period  of  the  Reformation.  This  important  event,  with  its  out- 
 burst of  intellectual  life  and  its  diflfusion  of  new  ideas,  failed  to  accomplish 
 in  any  appreciable  degree  the  alleviation  of  the  status  of  the  Jews  of  Conti- 
 nental Europe.  Their  social  condition  continued  intolerable  in  Protestant, 
 no  less  than  in  Roman  Catholic,  countries — despite  the  liberal  professions 
 of  the  former,  and  their  loud  blast  of  the  right  of  private  judgment.  The 
 shedding  of  their  blood  had  ceased,  but  they  continued  still  objects  of 
 scorn  and  contempt,  and  their  persecution  became  even  more  systematic 
 than  in  past  ages.  Nothing  was  offered  them  but  baptism,  and  none  but 
 the  baptized  were  considered  to  be  within  the  pale  of  humanity.  In  Ger- 
 many, Austria,  and  Poland,  where  they  were  located  in  large  numbers, 
 they  were  excluded  from  all  social  intercourse,  as  well  as  from  scientific 
 and  industrial  pursuits.  The  darkness  of  the  fourteenth  century  rested  on 
 them  long  after  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth  century  had  passed  away. 
 Their  schools  had  fallen  into  decay,  their  synagogues  were  hung  with  the 
 drapery  of  mourning  and  despair,  and  their  pulpits  were  well-nigh  mute. 
 To  them  Europe's  science  was  alien,  and  Europe's  Christianity  an  abomi- 
 nation. Tiiey  had  imbibed  a  positive  aversion  for  the  language  and  the 
 alphabets  of  their  tyrants  and  oppressors,  and  their  ordinary  language  was 
 a  miserable  jargon  known  by  the  name  oi  Jiidisch-Deutsch. 
 
 At  last,  however,  came  relief,  and  the  spirit  of  modern  civilization  began 
 to  breathe  on  their  petrified  forms  of  social  and  spiritual  life,  and  to  awaken 
 the  dormant  powers  of  their  mind.  When  the  hour  struck  for  Germany  to 
 throw  off  the  dust  of  barbarism  and  to  proclaim  a  more  human  age,  Israel 
 aroused  himself  from  his  lethargy  ;  and  his  national  civilization,  which  had 
 never  become  extinct,  revived  under  the  genial  influence  of  the  times. 
 Amongst  those  of  Christian  sympathizers  may  be  mentioned  Councillor 
 von  Dohm  and  the  renowned  Lessing;  but  all  the  phenomena  of  that 
 stirring  period  centred  in  one  man,  Moses  Mendelssohn,  one  of  the  mes- 
 sengers sent  by  Providence  into  the  world  when  the  time  had  come  "  to 
 divide  the  light  from  the  darkness."  He  had  already  attained  to  eminence 
 as  a  philosopher  and  had  even  successfully  disputed  the  prize  with  Kant. 
 He  now  resolved  to  devote  his  life  to  the  absorbing  object  of  lifting  his 
 brethren  in  faith  out  of  their  social  decrepitude  and  of  putting  an  end  to 
 
6S4  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 their  isolation  in  thought  and  feeHng  from  the  rest  of  mankind.  He  ap- 
 pealed to  them  by  the  voice  of  their  cherished  Scriptures — a  voice  to  which 
 in  all  their  tribulations  they  had  never  been  dull — and  the  lever  on  which 
 he  relied  was  that  of  education.  As  the  Jews  were  then  ignorant  of  the 
 German  alphabet,  he  was  driven  to  adopt  in  his  classical  German  transla- 
 tion of  the  Bible  the  square  Hebrew  character.  He  opened  at  Berlin  an 
 academy  which  soon  became  famous  and  attracted  to  its  benches  many 
 Christian  pupils  of  the  highest  families  for  secular  instruction.  The  pro- 
 miscuous education  of  Jews  and  Christians  was  a  bold  step  in  that  age  of 
 prejudice,  but  it  gave  no  offence.  By  degrees  the  brazen  wall,  which  the 
 antipathies  of  more  than  a  thousand  years  had  built  up,  was  thrown  down, 
 and  the  hand  of  mutual  fellowship  was  held  out  by  Christian  and  Jew.  In 
 the  presence  of  the  new  life  mediaeval  predilections  and  systems  have 
 vanished  away,  and  the  Jews  have  created  for  themselves  new  worlds  in 
 the  realms  of  civilization,  science,  and  letters.  At  the  present  time  Jews 
 are  to  be  found  in  considerable  numbers  amongst  the  savans,  and  a  large 
 portion  of  the  daily  and  periodical  Press  is  under  their  direction. 
 
 Now  an  intellectual  change  like  this  could  hardly  have  been  brought 
 about  without  exerting  a  telling  influence  on  the  religious  thought  and  the 
 outward  ritual  practices  of  the  Jews.  The  modern  cultured  Israelite  could 
 not  mould  his  mind  to  the  type  into  which  Talmudism  had  been  cast  in 
 times  when  persecution  forced  the  Hebrew  race  into  a  state  of  isolation. 
 Important  changes  have  therefore  taken  place  in  the  Synagogal  economy, 
 as  well  as  in  the  composition  of  the  prayer-book,  which  once  reflected  all 
 the  painful  reminiscences  of  a  martyred  people. 
 
 Meanwhile  the  civil  emancipation  of  the  Jews  in  Germany  advanced. 
 In  1812  they  obtained  the  right  to  engage  in  industrial  pursuits,  and  with 
 this  concession  the  last  of  the  long  list  of  restrictions,  which  had  driven 
 them  to  follow  the  most  humble  callings,  was  removed.  Later  on  they 
 were  declared  citizens  and  Ldndeskinder  ;  and  at  the  Congress  of  Vienna 
 in  1814,  a  public  recognition  was  made  of  their  patriotic  efforts  during  the 
 War  of  Independence ;  and,  by  an  especial  article,  the  Congress  pledged 
 itself  to  secure  for  them  a  perfect  equality  of  rights  in  all  the  Allied  Slates. 
 It  was  long,  however,  before  the  pledge  was  redeemed  by  Germany  and 
 Austria.     In  Russia  it  remains  still  unfulfilled. 
 
 There  is  a  very  large  Jewish  population  in  the  Austrian  dominions,  and 
 until  very  recently  their  position  was  a  sad  one.  No  one  was  considered 
 to  have  a  claim  to  nationality  that  remained  without  the  pale  of  the  Roman 
 Catholic  Church,  and  numbers  of  Jews  have  been  forced  into  an  outward 
 profession  of  the  creed  of  Rome  as  the  only  means  of  being  recognised  as 
 citizens  and  of  securing  industrial  employment.  But  the  battle  of  Sadowa 
 wrought  a  great  change  in  the  government  and  accomplished  wonders  for 
 the  rights  of  conscience.  Religious  opinion  is  now  perfectly  free,  and  no 
 stain  attaches  to  dissent  from  the  Established  Church.  Most  of  the  Jews 
 who  had  gone  over  to  it  have  come  back  to  the  Synagogue,  bringing  with 
 
THE  JEWS  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  685 
 
 them  occasionally  persons  of  Christian  birth,  with  whom  they  had  formed 
 marriage  connections. 
 
 The  spiritual  condition  of  the  Jews  in  Austria  and  in  Germany  is  nearly 
 on  a  par  with  that  of  other  denominations  in  those  empires.  The  scepti- 
 cism of  Kant,  Hegel,  Schelling,  Schopenhauer,  Fichte,  Strauss,  and  others, 
 lias  not  left  the  Synagogue,  any  more  than  the  Church,  unscathed.  The 
 Jews  of  the  Continent  (Russia  and  Poland  excepted)  may  be  divided  into 
 two  classes,  those  that  do,  and  those  that  do  not  observe  the  ceremonies  of 
 their  religion  ;  very  few  of  the  richer  classes  belong  to  the  former,  most  of 
 tlie  poorer  classes  belong  to  the  latter. 
 
 Of  all  European  countries  where  the  Jews  sought  a  shelter  from  their 
 persecutors,  Spain  was  the  one  where  they  especially  made  their  mark. 
 Driven  out  of  Palestine  soon  after  the  conversion  of  Constantine,  some  of 
 them  fled  to  Arabia,  some  to  the  Crimea,  and  most  of  them  to  Spain.  In 
 South  Arabia,  and  in  the  opposite  coast  of  Ethiopia,  Christians  and  Jews 
 strove  for  supremacy.  The  Himyar  Jewish  state,  eventually  succumbed, 
 but  some  of  its  chieftains  continued  independent,  and  were  in  possession 
 of  their  castles  at  the  advent  of  Mohammed  who,  at  the  begmning  of  his 
 career,  desired  to  make  friends  with  them.  The  agency  of  Judaism  in  the 
 formation  of  Mohammedanism  was  quite  as  important  as  in  the  production 
 of  Christianity.  The  views  of  the  world  as  set  forth  in  the  Koran  are 
 entirely  taken  from  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  and  from  the  oral  traditions. 
 
 About  tlie  same  time  a  movement  began  among  the  Jesvs  in  Babylonia, 
 which  culminated  in  a  schism.  A  rabbi,  named  Anau,  imparted  form  to 
 it,  and  hence  arose  what  is  known  as  the  school  of  the  Karaites,  which 
 completely  rejected  the  traditions  of  the  Talmud.  The  Karaites  employed 
 the  Arabic  language  in  their  polemical  treatises,  and  the  Rabbinical  Jews 
 soon  adopted  the  same  language  for  controversy  and  for  general  theologi- 
 cal purposes.  It  is  indeed  remarkable  that  the  Jews  should  never  have 
 become  familiar  with  the  Persian  language,  although  they  lived  side  by 
 side  with  the  Zoroastrians  more  than  twelve  hundred  years.  The  Jews 
 received  many  religious  notions  from  the  Persians,  to  whom  they  com- 
 municated few,  if  any,  of  their  own. 
 
 About  the  time  of  the  origin  of  Karaism,  the  kingdom  of  the  Chazars 
 was  founded  on  the  Caspian,  by  the  fragments  of  the  army  of  Attila,  then 
 on  its  march  back  from  Europe  to  Turkistan.i  The  influence  of  the  Cha- 
 zars whose  kings  professed  the  Jewish  religion  must  have  been  consider- 
 able on  the  surrounding  tribes.  The  Jewish  kingdom  collapsed  in  the 
 beginning  of  the  eleventh  century.  By  that  time  the  Jews  in  Spain  had 
 attained  a  high  degree  of  literary  and  scientific  importance.  They  stood 
 as  mediators  between  Moslem  and  Christian,  and  without  them  the  benefit 
 of  Mohammedan  literature  would  never  have  come  within  the  reach  of 
 Christians.  They  translated  works  from  the  Hebrew  and  Arabic,  and 
 these  were  further  translated  into  Latin.     At  the  head  of  these  literary 
 
 '  See  Graetz  Geschichte,  vol.  v. 
 
686  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 labours  stands  Jehudah  ibn  Tibbon  of  Granada,  who  was  followed  in  the 
 same  path  by  his  children  and  grandchildren.  Montpelier,  Beziers,  Aries, 
 Bagnoles,  and  the  neighbouring  cities  of  Spain  and  Italy  furnished  able 
 Jewish  scholars.  Albertus  Magnus  and  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  studied  Aris- 
 totle in  Latin  versions,  made  from  the  Hebrew.^  They  also  produced 
 independent  works  of  their  own.  The  celebrated  philosophical  work,  Fons 
 Vitce,  had  been  for  centuries  attributed  to  a  Mohammedan  author  udner 
 the  name  oi  Avicebron,  but  by  a  literary  discovery  made  by  the  late  erudite 
 Dr.  Munk,  it  turned  out  to  be  the  production  of  the  gifted  Solomon  ibn 
 Gabirol.  It  may  here  be  mentioned  tliat  the  reformation  of  the  Church 
 was  influenced  by  the  Jews  in  two  ways  :  First,  by  the  Kabbala,  which  laid 
 a  stronghold  on  the  imagination  of  Christians  aspiring  to  independence  of 
 thought.  Jews  were  naturally  the  interpreters  of  the  Kabbalistic  books, 
 but  the  most  effective  propagators  of  the  mystic  science  were  Christians. 
 Raymond  Lulli,  Pico  dcUa  Mirandola,  Reuciilin,  Knorr  von  Rosenroth, 
 and  many  other  minor  capacities,  wrote  for  and  against  the  Kabbala. 
 Secondly,  by  the  revival  of  Biblical  studies  which  had  been  almost 
 neglected  in  the  Church  since  the  days  of  Jerome.  For  this  service  the 
 aid  of  the  Jews  was  indispensable,  not  only  for  the  purpose  of  teaching  the 
 language,  but  for  opening  to  the  Christian  world  the  stores  of  Rabbinical 
 literature. 
 
 But  the  sun  of  prosperity  for  the  Jews  in  Spain  lasted  only  for  a  few 
 centuries,  from  the  defeat  of  the  last  Gothic  king,  until  the  time  when  the 
 Moorish  power  was  uprooted  by  the  triumph  of  Ferdinand  at  Granada. 
 A  rigorous  persecution  followed  close  on  this  victory,  the  Inquisition  was 
 established,  the  axe  and  the  faggot  were  the  doom  of  all  so-called  unbe- 
 lievers, and  the  Jews  who  refused  to  apostatize  from  their  ancestral  faith 
 could  only  escape  these  penalties  by  exile.  About  the  same  time  when 
 Columbus  was  hoisting  sail  in  search  of  a  new  world,  upwards  of  half  a 
 million  of  Jews  were  cast  forth  from  the  land  of  their  birth  to  encounter 
 all  the  horrors  of  banishment  and  destitution.  By  far  the  larger  number 
 of  them  perished — some  by  shipwreck,  some  through  starvation  and  fatigue, 
 and  not  a  few  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  pirates  of  Algeria,  and  closed  their 
 lives  in  the  rigour  of  slavery. 
 
 Of  those  who  escaped  such  perils,  many  found  a  shelter  in  hospitable 
 Holland,  where  they  were  suffered  to  live  in  comparative  ease  and  to  pro- 
 fess outwardly  their  faith.  The  gratitude  inspired  by  this  humane  treat- 
 ment was  singularly  displayed  by  the  Jews  of  Holland  when  William  of 
 Orange  was  in  need  of  funds  to  fit  out  his  expedition  to  Kngland.  One  of 
 their  community  placed  at  the  disposal  of  William  two  millions  of  guilders, 
 saying  to  him  :  "  If  you  succeed,  you  will  no  doubt  repay  the  loan  ;  if  you 
 fail,  I  am  well  content  to  lose  it  in  the  cause  of  religious  liberty."  The 
 interest  evinced  by  the  Jewish  refugees  in  the  welfare  of  the  country,  and 
 their  generous  support  to  all  its  charitable  institutions,  secured  for  them  the 
 
 '  Sec  Munk,  Melanges,  p.  335. 
 
THE  JEWS  IN  MODERN   TIMES.  687 
 
 national  goodwill,  and  prepared  the  way  for  their  complete  emancipation. 
 They  are  very  numerous  in  the  Dutch  provinces,  and  amongst  them  are 
 found  at  the  present  day  men  of  European  celebrity  in  every  liberal  pro- 
 fession and  branch  of  science  and  literature.  They  have  over  sixty  schools, 
 authorized  by  the  government,  and  admirable  theological  colleges  for  the 
 training  of  ministers.  Their  benevolent  institutions  are  so  manifold  as  to 
 have  proved  absolutely  injurious  to  self-help  and  industrial  activity.  In- 
 discriminate almsgiving  has  tended  to  demoralize  the  poor,  until  the  irre- 
 pressible mendicant  of  Amsterdam  has  sunk  into  the  lowest  type  of  the 
 Jewish  race.  It  is  not  surprising  that  in  the  country  which  gave  birth  to 
 the  renowned  Spinoza  tliere  should  be  found  amongst  the  cultured  He- 
 brews men  whose  religious  opinions  do  not  square  with  the  standard  of 
 Rabbinism  ;  but  the  majority  of  the  Dutch  Jews  are  ultra-Talmudical,  and 
 their  aversion  to  modify  the  Synagogue  ritual  from  the  stamp  it  took  dur- 
 ing the  persecution  of  the  middle  ages,  and  to  adapt  it  to  the  requirements 
 of  the  time  being,  has  up  to  the  present  proved  invincible. 
 
 France  contains  upwards  of  a  hundred  thousand  Jews,  and  they  are 
 remarkable  for  their  staunch  patriotism.  They  differ  from  their  ancestors 
 of  a  bygone  age,  in  so  far  as  they  have  lost  all  feeling  for  the  land  of  the 
 Patriarchs,  and  they  exult  in  the  exclamation,  "  Notre  Zion  c'est  la  France," 
 ignoring  completely  the  old  doctrine  of  a  restoration  to  Palestine.  Nor  in 
 this  respect  do  they  differ  much  from  modern  Jews  in  general,  who  live  at 
 ease  and  are  in  the  enjoyment  of  equal  rights  of  citizenship.  Just  as  the 
 Church  in  the  times  of  its  tribulation  consoled  itself  in  the  belief  of  the 
 doctrine  of  the  Millennium,  so  the  Synagogue  during  its  dreary  centuries 
 of  persecution,  found  comfort  in  the  hope  of  a  restoration  to  the  Holy 
 Land,  which  was  to  become  a  great  and  glorious  kingdom.  But  just  as 
 the  majority  of  Christians  suffered  the  doctrine  of  the  Millennium  to  recede 
 into  the  background,  when  the  Church  became  dominant,  so  Jews,  for  the 
 most  part,  have  dealt  in  modern  times  with  the  old  teaching  of  a  restora- 
 tion to  Zion. 
 
 France  may  well  take  credit  to  itself  for  having  been  the  first  Christian 
 State  of  Europe  that  fully  carried  into  effect  the  principle  of  hberty  of  con- 
 science. In  1789  it  proclaimed  complete  emancipation  to  all  its  Jewish 
 subjects,  and  they  have  repaid  the  debt  by  a  passionate  devotion  to  all  its 
 national  interests.  The  French  Jews  have  won  a  foremost  place  in  the 
 Senate,  at  the  Bar,  as  well  as  in  literature,  science,  and  art,  and  some  of 
 them  have  attained  to  eminence  as  members  of  the  government. 
 
 Out  of  the  nine  millions  of  Jews  spread  over  the  surface  of  the  globe, 
 more  than  four  and  a  half  millions  are  to  be  found  in  Russia,  Russian  Poland, 
 the  States  of  Barbary,  Morocco,  and  Roumania,  where  their  treatment  is  a 
 scandal  to  the  civilization  of  the  age.  They  have  no  political  rights,  and 
 they  are  not  even  considered  within  the  protection  of  the  law.  They  are 
 subjected  to  an  exceptional  system  of  government,  which  grinds  them 
 down  to  heartless  and  galling  exactions. 
 
688  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 In  all  other  Continental  States,  as  well  as  in  America  and  the  British 
 Colonies,  Jews  follow  the  same  pursuits  and  exhibit  the  same  national 
 character,  for  good  or  evil,  as  their  fellows  of  other  creeds.  Despite  the 
 tenacity  of  habit,  superinduced  by  centuries  of  persecution,  the  effects  of 
 which  are  not  thrown  off  in  a  few  generations,  the  Jews  are  powerfully 
 represented  in  art,  in  pure  and  applied  science,  in  Belles  Lettres  and  polite 
 literature,  in  each  of  which  branches  every  European  country  derives  a  por- 
 tion of  its  renown  from  their  activity  and  labour.  A  peasantry  cannot  be 
 improvised  out  of  a  race  which  ever  since  the  overthrow  of  their  political 
 nationality  have  rarely  been  permitted  to  handle  a  plough  or  to  plant  a 
 vine.  There  is  nothing,  however,  incompatible  with  the  qualifications 
 needful  for  husbandry  in  the  character  of  a  people  who,  in  the  palmy  days 
 of  their  political  existence,  were  almost  exclusively  devoted  to  agriculture. 
 In  Jaffa,  Hebron,  and  other  parts  of  Palestine  they  are  at  the  present  time 
 establishing  agricultural  colonies,  and  the  hills  are  beginning  to  assume 
 something  like  the  appearance  of  the  gardens  of  olden  times,  so  vividly 
 described  in  the  Songs  of  Zion.  This  beneficial  movement  amongst  the 
 Palestinian  Hebrews  is  to  be  ascribed  chiefly  to  the  French  Jews,  the 
 originators  of  the  "Alliance  Israelite,"  one  of  the  most  useful  institutions 
 amongst  our  community  in  modern  times.  The  Jews  of  England  have 
 heartily  participated  in  the  movement,  and  its  spirit  has  radiated  through 
 the  primary  and  industrial  schools  of  Jerusalem,  Safet,  and  other  places, 
 into  the  whole  of  the  social  relations  of  the  Palestine  Hebrews.  Ignorance 
 and  pauperism  are  fast  disappearing  from  amongst  them,  and  they  are 
 acquiring  modern  culture  and  realizing  the  first  pulsations  of  active  and 
 self-supporting  industry. 
 
 The  modern  history  of  British  Jews  dates  from  the  year  1655.  Ban- 
 ished from  the  soil  of  England  by  the  heartless  edict  of  1279,  the  Jews 
 had  often  turned  a  longing  eye  to  this  country,  where  the  laws  offered  a 
 protection  for  the  oppressed  not  to  be  found  during  the  sixteenth  century 
 in  any  other  European  State.  Still,  the  new  spirit  breathed  into  England 
 by  the  Reformation  gave  little  hope  of  the  repeal  of  the  cruel  edict  against 
 the  disciples  of  Moses.  From  Oliver  Cromwell,  whose  memory  should  be 
 dear  to  all  lovers  of  religious  freedom,  came  the  first  faint  expression  of 
 sympathy  lor  the  [jcrsecuted  race.  In  1655  he  sulTered  it  to  be  made 
 known,  to  a  few  eminent  merchants  of  Amsterdam,  that  he  entertained  no 
 personal  objection  to  the  re-admission  of  the  Jews  into  England,  and  that, 
 in  as  far  as  related  to  himself,  they  would  find  in  him  an  advocate  rather 
 than  an  opponent.  This  was  enough  to  induce  some  of  the  Jews  of  the 
 Netherlands  to  depute  the  famous  Rabbi  Manasseh  ben  Israel  to  proceed 
 to  London  and  to  plead  before  the  Privy  Council  for  the  revocation  of 
 Edward  I.'s  decree  of  banishment.  Cromwell  advocated  it  in  a  speech  of 
 remarkable  power,  but  he  failed  to  overcome  the  rancorous  prejudices  of 
 his  Council,  and  Manasseh  returned  home  after  what  appeared  to  have 
 been  a  fruitless  expedition.     Relying,  however,  on  the  personal  goodwill 
 
run  JEWS  IN  MODERN   TLMES.  689 
 
 of  Cromwell,  a  few  families  from  Amsterdam  and  The  Hague  made  their 
 way  to  London,  and  were  soon  joined  by  other  emigrants,  until  they  found 
 themselves  in  1656  in  numbers  sufficient  to  establish  a  synagogue.  They 
 encountered  a  fierce  opposition,  especially  from  the  merchants  of  the  City, 
 and,  as  they  had  no  legal  sanction  for  their  settlement  in  England,  many 
 petitions  were  presented  to  Parliament  for  their  expulsion.  The  death  of 
 Oliver  Cromwell  in  1658  deprived  them  of  a  warm  friend  and  sympathizer, 
 but  the  conflict  which  arose  under  Richard  Cromwell  amongst  the  demo- 
 cratic leaders  so  completely  engrossed  the  public  mind  that  little  heed  was 
 paid  to  the  return  of  the  Jews.  In  1664  the  old  spirit  of  fanaticism  re- 
 vived with  accelerated  force,  and  the  Jews  were  so  maltreated  by  the  mob 
 that  they  had  to  petition  the  Government  for  the  protection  of  their 
 persons  and  their  property.  Their  religious  creed  was  regarded  as  a  mis- 
 demeanour by  the  bulk  of  the  population,  and  the  Protestant  clergy  con- 
 signed them  to  a  moral  and  social  quarantine.  They  were  made  to  feel 
 that  if  England  gave  them  for  the  lime  being  an  abiding  place,  it  was  far 
 from  affording  them  a  home.  It  was  no  uncommon  thing  to  arrest  their- 
 mcrchants  in  the  Royal  Exchange,  under  the  Statute  of  the  23rd  Eliza- 
 beth, as  "  Relapsed  Popish  Recusants." 
 
 In  1723  they  were  for  the  first  time  formally  recognised  by  Parliament 
 by  an  Act  enabling  them  to  take  the  oath  of  abjuration  without  the  words, 
 "  On  the  true  faith  of  a  Christian,"  a  concession  that  seemed  to  indicate  a 
 softening  of  prejudice.  In  1755  the  Government  carried  through  Parlia- 
 ment a  Bill  for  the  naturalization  of  British-born  Jews,  in  recognition  of 
 their  patriotic  efforts  to  save  the  country  from  bankruptcy  during  the 
 perilous  rebellion  in  1745.  But  scarcely  had  the  session  closed  when  a 
 wild  agitation  arose  throughout  the  land  for  the  repeal  of  the  Act,  and  the 
 Government,  yielding  to  the  popular  clamour,  carried  its  repeal  in  the 
 following  session  of  Parliament.  The  late  Sir  Robeit  I'eel,  in  a  speech  on 
 the  repeal  of  the  Acts  which  excluded  the  Jews  from  sitting  as  members  of 
 the  Legislature,  described  the  repeal  of  the  Bill  of  1755  as  the  most 
 shameful  deed  ever  perpetrated  by  Parliament.  This  strong  manifestation 
 indicated  the  rough  husk  of  bigotry  that  still  adhered  to  the  bulk  of  the 
 English  people,  and  that  the  bent  of  its  spirit  was  evidently  towards 
 intolerance.  The  Jews  were  so  completely  cowed  by  the  event  of  1756, 
 that  for  more  than  three  generations  they  confined  themselves  to  their 
 "  Goshen  "  in  the  east  of  London,  without  mixing  with  any  but  the  mem- 
 bers of  their  own  fliith  except  for  the  purpose  of  business  transactions. 
 They  were  timid  about  committing  themselves  again  to  a  movement  for 
 the  amelioration  of  their  condition,  which  might  produce  sectarian  strife, 
 and  arouse  a  spirit  of  rancour  like  that  of  which  they  had  heard  their 
 fathers  tell  and  lament. 
 
 The  first  quarter  of  the  present  century  had  nearly  run  its  course  when 
 the  London  merchants  gave  evidence  of  the  dawn  of  a  more  humane 
 feeling  towards  Jews,  by  enabling  them  to  become  Freemen  of  the  City. 
 
 VOL.  II. — pt.  2.  z  z 
 
690  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Still  they  laboured  under  many  exceptional  disabilities,  and  to  remove 
 these,  Mr.,  afterwards  Sir,  Isaac  Lyon  Goldsmid,  devoted  all  the  energies 
 of  his  capacious  mind,  and  the  most  invincible  perseverance.  But  it  was 
 hopeless  to  attempt  to  abrogate  the  penal  laws  against  the  Jews  so  long 
 as  the  more  powerful  bodies  of  Dissenters  and  Roman  Catholics  were 
 labouring  under  similar  exclusions.  Still  the  grievance  of  which  the  Jews 
 had  so  long  complamed,  of  being  deprived  of  the  benefit  of  a  University 
 education,  was  felt  to  be  so  intolerable  as  to  demand  an  immediate 
 remedy.  The  poet,  Thomas  Campbell,  had  suggested  the  idea  of  starting 
 a  university  apart  from  theology  and  every  kind  of  religious  test,  and  Mr. 
 Goldsmid  seized  with  delight  the  suggestion.  He  devoted  to  the  project 
 a  considerable  sum,  and  engaged  in  the  undertaking  the  powerful  support 
 of  Brougham,  Hume,  Warburton,  and  other  advanced  Liberals.  Hence 
 the  establishment  of  University  College,  which  has  exercised  an  appre- 
 ciable influence  on  the  progress  of  education  ;  and  to  it  may  be  traced  the 
 larger  views  and  the  wider  sympathies  that  have  since  found  their  way  into 
 the  chartered  Universities  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge.  Before  the  founda- 
 tion of  University  College,  no  career  was  open  to  the  aspiring  Israelite  but 
 that  of  commerce ;  and  the  mental  superiority  which  that  race  has  dis- 
 played ever  since  a  field  has  been  afforded  it  excites  a  feeling  of  regret 
 that  many  a  powerful  intellect  amongst  the  Jews  should  have  been  suffered 
 to  stagnate  during  ages  of  exclusiveness,  for  lack  of  opportunity  for 
 cultivation. 
 
 Jewish  hope  revived  in  1828,  when  Lord  John  Russell  carried  through 
 the  House  of  Commons  the  repeal  of  the  Test  and  Corporations  Acts,  but 
 the  Episcopal  Bench  in  the  House  of  Lords  would  pass  the  Bill  only  on 
 the  condition  of  the  insertion  of  the  words,  "  On  the  true  faith  of  a 
 Christian,"  as  a  part  of  the  declaration  on  acceptance  of  office.  The 
 passing  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Relief  Bill  in  1829,  renewed  the  hope  of 
 the  Jews  that  their  complete  emancipation  was  at  hand.  But  preliminary 
 measures  had  to  precede  its  realization. 
 
 In  1847  the  election  of  David  Salomons  as  Alderman  of  the  City  led  to 
 the  passing  of  an  Act  enabling  him  and  others  of  his  faith  elected  to 
 municipal  office  to  omit  from  the  required  declaration  words  to  which  they 
 could  not  conscientiously  subscribe.  Soon  followed  the  election  of  Baron 
 Lionel  de  Rothschild  as  member  for  the  City  of  London,  and  then  the 
 (question  of  the  complete  emancipation  of  the  Jews  was  brought  within  the 
 range  of  practical  politics.  For  eleven  long  years  a  contest  was  main- 
 tained on  this  question  between  the  two  Houses  of  Parliament ;  but  in 
 1858  it  was  settled  by  a  proposal  of  compromise  made  by  the  Earl  of 
 Lucan,  and  the  last  of  the  civil  disabilities  which  had  so  long  stained  the 
 statute-book  was  removed. 
 
 During  the  last  quarter  of  a  century  the  Anglo-Jewish  community  has 
 advanced  with  rapid  strides.  Many  things  have  combined  for  their  im- 
 provement, but  no  factor  has  been  so  potent  as  that  of  education.     Whilst 
 
TJIE  JEIVS  IN  MODERN   TLMES.  691 
 
 University  College  has  conferred  priceless  benefits  on  the  upper  classes, 
 and  sent  forth  men  who  have  shed  lustre  on  their  Alma  Mater,  the 
 renowned  school  in  Bell  Lane,  Spitalfields,  continues  to  instruct  three 
 thousand  poor  children  at  an  annual  cost  of  ^12,000.  Other  schools  of 
 less  magnitude  exist  in  different  parts  of  the  Metropolis.  The  improve- 
 ment of  the  lower  classes  wrought  by  these  institutions  is  very  remarkable. 
 The  educational  reports,  furnished  from  time  to  time  by  the  Government 
 inspectors,  show  that  of  all  religious  denominations  in  England,  the  Jews 
 have  i)roportionally  the  smallest  number  who  are  destitute  of  the  common 
 franchise  of  reading  and  writing.  The  troops  of  Hebrew  boys  which,  a 
 quarter  of  a  century  ago,  infested  the  public  thoroughfares  as  vendors  of 
 articles  of  small  value,  and  the  young  men  that  assailed  the  public  ear  with 
 the  incessant  cry  of  "  Old  Clo',"  have  quite  disappeared  from  the  scene  ; 
 and  they  are  succeeded  by  a  generation  that  takes  to  more  elevating  and 
 productive  callings  at  home,  or  in  the  colonies,  where  they  have  become 
 prosperous.  Mendicity  still  prevails  to  a  considerable  extent  in  the  com- 
 munity, owing  to  foreign  emigrants  expatriated  from  Russia  and  Germany, 
 and  they  resort  for  the  most  part  to  London  as  a  fancied  El  Dorado. 
 Much  interesting  information,  bearing  on  this  hard  social  problem,  is 
 supplied  in  the  periodical  reports  of  the  Jewish  Board  of  Guardians. 
 
 Throughout  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  there  are  more  than  ninety 
 thousand  Jews,  by  far  the  larger  portion  of  whom  are  located  in  London 
 and  its  suburbs,  whilst  the  city  of  New  York  alone  is  said  to  contain  one 
 hundred  thousand  of  the  Hebrew  community.  They  are  remarkably  free 
 from  predatory  acts  and  deeds  of  violence,  and  they  are  strictly  law- 
 abiding.  Intemperance  is  a  failing  rarely  found  amongst  them,  but  the 
 lower  classes  are  much  given  to  gambling.  Until  recently  the  prevailing 
 feature  amongst  the  poor  Jewesses  was  chastity,  but  it  is  less  strictly  main- 
 tained at  present,  the  mania  for  fine  attire  is  the  cause  of  the  fall  of  not  a 
 few. 
 
 In  matters  of  religious  faith  and  practice  the  British  Jews  cling  to  the 
 code  of  Moses,  unshaken  amidst  the  changes  and  the  turmoil  of  ages,  and 
 they  recognise  in  the  Synagogue  a  living  organism.  Some  of  their  ritual 
 observances  have  naturally  yielded  to  modifications,  motivated  by  tune, 
 locality,  and  circumstance.  They  draw  a  line  of  distinction  between  the 
 matter  and  the  manner,  the  essence  and  the  accident,  the  spirit  and  the 
 form,  or,  in  other  words,  between  outward  and  inward  religion.  They 
 regard  Judaism  from  its  practical,  and  not  from  its  speculative,  standpoint. 
 It  is  to  them  what  the  Germans  call  a  Religion  der  That,  and  it  resolves 
 itself  into  what  Scripture  charges  them  to  do  and  to  refrain  from  doing. 
 Indeed,  Judaism  is  remarkably  free  from  dogmatism,  and  is  essentially  a 
 religion  of  action.  It  emphatically  repudiates  the  doctrine  of  exclusive 
 salvation,  a  doctrine  that  has  produced  so  much  persecution  and  blood- 
 shed in  the  world.  It  likewise  discountenances  every  attempt  to  suppress 
 the  critical  spirit,  and  to  paralyze  the  intellect,  to  stigmatize  honest  doubt 
 
'692  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 or  error  as  guilt,  and  to  elevate  dogma  above  the  moral  element  of 
 religion.  Influenced  by  the  endless  variety  of  human  opinions,  and  main- 
 tained by  all  with  equal  honesty,  confidence,  and  hope,  Judaism  holds  and 
 teaches  that  no  one  can  be  distant  from  God  "  whose  life  is  in  the  right." 
 This  is  not  a  sudden  outcome  of  Jewish  sentiment  prompted  by  modern 
 liberalism,  but  is  as  old  as  the  Bible  itself.  The  same  Voice  that  promul- 
 gated the  Decalogue  at  Sinai  proclaimed  that,  "  on  every  place  where  the 
 Divine  name  should  be  recorded,  a  blessing  from  above  would  descend." 
 Again,  at  the  inauguration  of  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem,  Solomon  placed 
 the  non-Israelite  on  precisely  the  same  level  as  the  Hebrew  with  respect  to 
 the  acceptance  of  prayer.  Even  in  times  of  sore  persecution  from  the 
 Crescent  and  the  Cross,  when  the  bitterness  of  the  hour  might  have  called 
 forth  a  hostile  or  anti-social  utterance,  the  Rabbins  openly  taught  that 
 "  salvation  is  the  heritage  of  the  virtues  of  all  peoples."  Religious 
 teachers  there  have  been,  and  are  still,  who  profess  their  incapability  to 
 conceive  how  any  but  one  measure  of  belief,  and  one  stereotyped  form  of 
 worship  can  be  acceptable  to  the  Almighty,  But  here  the  Jew  finds  no 
 pexplexity,  since  he  recognises  in  the  very  variety  of  prevailing  opinions 
 and  forms  a  telling  evidence  of  the  righteousness  of  God,  who  judges 
 between  the  errors  of  the  head,  if  errors  they  be,  and  the  errors  of  the 
 heart. 
 
 The  Jew,  therefore,  does  not  classify  men  by  the  principle  of  theology. 
 He  regards  the  severity  practised  towards  the  Canaanites  of  old  not  as  a 
 consequence  of  erroneous  religious  belief,  but  as  a  retribution  for  their 
 revolting  and  unnatural  crimes,  which  were  inseparable  from  their  religious 
 practice.  The  Egyptians  and  the  Edomites  were  also  idolaters  ;  but  as 
 they  did  not  associate  their  worship  with  the  abominations  of  Canaan,  the 
 Jews  were  charged  to  regard  them  as  brothers,  and  to  promote  their  wel- 
 fare. Though  Judaism  is  a  missionary  religion  yet,  paradoxical  as  it  may 
 seem,  it  is  very  adverse  to  proselytism.  Conversion  was  practised  by 
 them  so  long  as  the  Bible  existed  in  the  Hebrew  version  only,  and  was  in- 
 accessible to  the  outer  world  ;  but  in  our  times,  when  the  Scriptures  are 
 rendered  into  every  language  and  dialect  of  the  globe,  and  each  individual 
 can  read  and  interpret  them  for  himself,  Jews  do  not  hold  it  incumbent  to 
 organize  a  propaganda,  nor  to  intrude  their  views  on  the  consciences  of 
 others.  The  mission  of  the  Jews,  as  imposed  by  their  legislator,  lay 
 through  their  personal  conduct  and  example. 
 
 It  is  an  error  to  sui)i)ose  that  Jews  regard  Christianity  with  anything  like 
 a  hostile  sentiment.  They  naturally  distinguish  between  Christianity  in  its 
 infancy,  which  rested  altogether  on  a  moral  basis,  and  the  Christianity  of  a 
 later  period,  wlien  its  moral  conceptions  became  materialized  by  the  influ- 
 ence of  metaphysical  dogma.  Still,  inasmuch  as  in  its  present  qualified 
 phase  it  continues  to  embody  and  teach  the  fundamental  ethics  of  the 
 code  of  Sinai,  Jews  esteem  it  as  one  of  the  means  for  disseminating  in  the 
 world  the  essential  principles  of  morality  and  civilization.     On  this  account 
 
THE  JEWS  IN  MODERN   TIMES.  693 
 
 the  Jew  has  no  conscientious  scruple  in  granting  plots  of  land  on  his 
 estate,  or  in  contributing  in  other  ways  for  the  building  of  churches  and 
 chapels  of  all  denominations.  A  sense  of  social  duty,  no  less  than  the 
 feeling  that  property  has  its  obligations  as  well  as  its  rights,  prompts  him 
 to  make  some  provision  for  the  spiritual  needs  of  his  tenantry. 
 
 I  venture,  in  conclusion,  to  offer  a  bald  remark  or  two  on  a  subject  with 
 respect  to  which  the  Synagogue  differs  very  widely  in  its  teaching  from 
 that  of  the  Church,  and  that  is  on  the  doctrine  of  Messianism,  or  what  is 
 called  in  Evangelical  phrase  "  the  coming  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  In 
 the  cheering  and  elevating  homilies  of  the  prophets  of  Judah,  a  touching 
 picture  is  drawn  of  an  ideal  human  happiness  and  of  a  state  of  social  per- 
 fection made  manifest  by  a  higher  life  in  every  child  of  God.  It  exhibits 
 humanity  as  no  longer  restricted  by  the  limitations  of  country,  race,  or 
 tribe,  and  all  contention,  social  no  less  than  sectarian,  giving  place  to 
 gentleness  and  concord.  The  differences  of  religious  belief,  and  the  vary- 
 ing forms  of  its  outward  expression,  are  to  be  consigned  to  the  past,  and 
 there  is  to  be  one  common  house  of  prayer,  where  all  are  to  meet  and  join 
 in  praise  to  the  Universal  Father.  Many  are  the  vicissitudes  through 
 which  the  Jewish  race  has  passed,  but  never  has  this  grand,  prophetic 
 ideal  been  extinguished  from  their  hopes  nor  ceased  to  be  rehearsed  in  the 
 liturgy  of  the  Synagogue.  The  more  troublous  the  age,  the  more  hostile 
 the  fanaticism  waxed,  the  closer  the  Jews  clung  to  the  hope  that  persecu- 
 tion would  gradually  wear  itself  out,  although  its  spirit  might  flicker  at 
 intervals,  and  that  the  crowning  scene  of  the  Messianic  drama  would 
 realize  the  Psalmist's  prediction  of  "  Mercy  and  truth  meeting  together, 
 and  righteousness  and  peace  being  locked  in  fond  embrace." 
 
 The  idea  finds  its  most  intense  expression  in  the  Apocalyptic  books  ot 
 Daniel,  Enoch,  Sirach,  and  the  Sybelline  leaves,  all  of  which  date  upwards 
 from  about  the  year  170  before  the  Christian  era.  Now  the  Church,  as  it 
 seems  to  us  Jews,  holds  this  Messianic  era  to  have  come,  and  to  have 
 found  its  realization,  in  part  at  least,  in  the  advent  of  the  renowned 
 Teacher  whom  it  recognises  as  the  predicted  Messiah  of  the  Hebrew 
 Scriptures.  From  such  a  conclusion  Jewish  sentiment  totally  dissents.  It 
 seems  to  the  disciples  of  the  Synagogue  something  like  a  moral  paradox  to 
 assimilate  the  condition  which  the  world  has  continued  to  exhibit  with  the 
 glorious  epoch  prophesied  by  the  seers  of  Judah,  and  it  must  be  borne  in 
 mind  that  the  Hebrew  Bible  speaks  of  one  Messianic  advent  only,  and  not 
 of  two  advents.  It  should  not,  therefore,  excite  surprise  that  Jews  cannot 
 I)ersuade  themselves  that  the  promised  total  cessation  of  strife  and  war, 
 the  perfection  of  human  happiness,  and  the  union  of  all  hearts  and  minds 
 has  already  been  realized,  and  that  the  glorious  Messianic  epoch  has 
 found  its  ideal  in  the  form  of  "  a  man  of  sorrows." 
 
 Jews,  therefore,  look  to  the  future  for  the  realization  of  the  Messianic 
 ])romises,  and,  committing  their  accomplishment  to  the  time-working  pro- 
 vidence of  the  Eternal  One,  they  feel  it  a  duty  to  respect  the  different 
 
694  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 systems  of  denominations  of  religion,  whilst  they  remain  true  to  their  own, 
 giving  practical  effect  to  the  words  of  the  seer,  Micah  :  "  Let  all  others 
 adhere  to  their  creed  and  worship,  and  let  us  walk  in  the  name  of  our 
 God  for  ever  and  ever." 
 
 We  feel  that  He  whose  mandate  all  nature  obeys,  He  whose  providence 
 over  the  destinies  of  Israel  is  as  manifest  to-day  as  it  has  been  in  every 
 phase  of  our  exceptional  history,  may  well  enlist  our  confidence  to  accom- 
 plish, through  the  Abrahamic  race,  the  Messianic  regeneration,  and  to 
 make  Israel  the  instrument  for  advancing  spiritual  truth  and  moral  devel- 
 opment, until  they  attain  the  climax  of  healing  all  sectarian  and  social 
 differences,  and  in  bringing  all  men  to  worship  at  one  common  altar,  when 
 all  that  is  base  shall  give  place  to  what  is  exalted  in  thought  and  sublime 
 in  action.  The  Greek  poets  taught  tliat  a  golden  age  such  as  this  had 
 come  and  gone.  The  Jewish  prophets  assigned  it  to  a  distant  future,  and 
 in  the  future  alone  can  Jews  find  any  appreciable  meaning  of  "  Messiah's 
 Advent"  and  "  the  coming  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven." 
 
69i 
 
 JEWISH    ETHICS. 
 By  the  Rev.  Morris  Joseph. 
 
 The  final  aim  of  religion  is  morality.  This  is  the  central  truth  of 
 Judaism.  In  this  respect  Jewish  doctrine  differs  from  Hinduism,  which 
 makes  ritual  purity  and  spiritual  ecstasy  the  summum  bofiuni,  from  the 
 religion  of  Islam,  whose  first  and  last  word  is  "  Allah  is  God,  and  Moham- 
 med is  His  Prophet,"  from  Christianity,  which  sets  faith  above  works,  and 
 declares  belief  to  be  the  condition  precedent  to  salvation.  In  every  stage 
 of  its  development  Judaism  has  taught  that  faith  and  ritual  are  but  the 
 paths  to  righteousness,  and  that  far  higher  than  obedience  to  the  cere- 
 monial law,  higher  even  than  the  possession  of  theological  truth,  is  purity 
 of  heart  and  holiness  of  life. 
 
 The  keynote  of  this  exalted  teaching  is  struck  by  the  Pentateuch  itself 
 "Ye  shall  be  holy,"  the  Israelite  is  admonished  in  the  nineteenth  chapter 
 of  Leviticus  ;  "  for  I,  the  Lord  your  God,  am  holy."  ^  And  the  typical 
 precept  which  is  used  to  illustrate  this  general  formula  is  a  purely  ethical 
 one  :  "  Ye  shall  fear  every  man  his  mother  and  his  father."  -  Certainly, 
 this  specific  maxim  is  immediately  followed  in  its  turn  by  a  law  relating  to 
 sacrifice  ;  but  of  the  many  precepts  contained  in  this  one  chapter,  so  large 
 a  majority  deal  with  morals,  that  it  is  impossible  to  doubt  that  it  is 
 conduct,  and  not  ritual,  upon  which  the  Lawgiver  would  lay  the  chief 
 stress.^  Similarly,  the  eighteenth  chapter  of  Leviticus  contains  the  in- 
 injunction  :  "  Ye  shall  therefore  keep  My  statutes  and  My  judgments, 
 which  if  a  man  do  he  shall  live  by  them  ;  I  am  the  Lord."^  And,  as  the 
 succeeding  passage  indicates,  these  statutes,  by  doing  which  man  is  to 
 live,  are  those  which  aim  at  the  suppression  of  sensuality  and  vice. 
 
 Elsewhere  the  Pentateuch  plainly  indicates  the  value  of  the  sacrificial 
 rite.  It  is  the  means,  not  the  end — useful  as  an  expression  of  inward 
 emotion,  useless  if  it  be  disjoined  from  rectitude  of  life.  Before  the  sin- 
 offering  can  be  brought  the  sinner  must  confess  his  transgression — nay, 
 more,  if  he  has  stolen,  he  must  make  restitution.^  It  is  only  when  he  has 
 done  this  that  his  sacrifice  is  accepted,  and  he  may  count  on  being  for- 
 given. And  the  theme  is  taken  up  by  prophet  and  psalmist  "  The 
 sacrifices  of  God  are  a  contrite  spirit."*'  If  sinners  would  be  at  one  with 
 their  Father  in  Heaven,  they  must  rend  their  hearts  and  not  their  gar- 
 ments f'  if  they  would  have  their  prayers  answered,  they  must  "  cease  to 
 
 *  Lev.  xix.  2.  2  ii,ij_^  2. 
 
 '  See  Midrash  Rabbah  on  the  Passage.  ■*  Lev.  xviii.  5. 
 
 »  Lev.  v.  5  ;  vi.  4 ;  Numb.  v.  7.  ^  Ps.  li.  17.  '•  Joel  ii.  13. 
 
696  RELTGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 do  evil,"  they  must  "seek  justice,  relieve  the  oppressed,  judge  the  father- 
 less, plead  for  the  widow";*  if  their  fasting  is  to  be  effective,  they  must 
 loose  the  bonds  of  wickedness,  and  let  the  oppressed  go  free.^  No  wonder, 
 then,  that  in  their  sublime  pictures  of  the  Golden  Age,  the  prophets  of 
 Israel  find  no  place  for  ceremonial  religion.  The  gracious  figures  of  Peace 
 and  Righteousness  and  Brotherly  Love  monopolize  the  canvas.  In  the 
 last  days  God  is  to  judge  between  many  peoples,  and  reprove  strong 
 nations  afar  off;  "and  they  shall  beat  their  swords  into  ploughshares  and 
 their  spears  into  pruning-hooks  :  nation  shall  not  lift  up  sword  against 
 nation,  neither  shall  they  learn  war  any  more."^  And  in  yet  another 
 passage  describing  the  universal  peace  which  is  to  sway  men's  hearts  in 
 the  good  time  that  is  coming,  it  is  figuratively  declared  that  "  the  wolf 
 shall  dwell  with  the  lamb,  and  the  leopard  shall  lie  down  with  the  kid  ; 
 and  the  calf  and  the  young  lion  and  the  fatling  together  ;  and  a  little  child 
 shall  lead  them.  They  shall  not  hurt  nor  destroy  in  all  My  holy  moun- 
 tain ;  for  the  earth  shall  be  full  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord,  as  the 
 waters  cover  the  sea."  * 
 
 It  is  true  that  one  element  in  this  glorious  dream  is  that  the  knowledge 
 of  God  will  overflow  the  whole  earth  with  its  life-giving  waters ;  but  the 
 manifestations  and  results  of  that  knowledge  are  to  consist  in  the  perfect 
 peace,  the  confident  trust  in  each  other's  goodness,  which  is  to  reign 
 among  men.  According  to  the  prophet  Jeremiah,  indeed,  the  knowledge 
 of  the  Lord  is  but  another  name  for  acts  of  righteousness  and  love.  "  Did 
 not  tliy  father,"  he  reminds  the  wicked  king  of  Judah,  "do  judgment  and 
 justice  ?  He  judged  the  cause  of  the  poor  and  needy.  Was  not  this 
 to  know  Me  ?  saith  the  Lord."  ^  Let  him  who  would  boast,  elsewhere, 
 exclaims  the  same  prophet  in  the  name  of  God,  glory  not  in  his  power  or 
 his  riches,  but  "  in  understanding  and  knowing  Me,  that  I  am  the  Lord 
 that  exercise  lovingkindness,  judgment,  and  righteousness  in  the  earth  ; 
 or  in  these  things  I  delight,  saith  the  Lord."" 
 
 So,  too,  the  Talmud  declares  in  its  turn  that  "  humility  supersedes  all 
 the  sacrifices."  '^  "He  who  devotes  himself  to  the  mere  study  of  religion," 
 it  continues,  "  without  engaging  in  works  of  mercy  and  love,  is  like  one 
 who  has  no  God."^  Religious  contemplation,  it  teaches  further,  is  com- 
 mendable only  when  it  goes  hand  in  hand  with  active  morality.  "  Only 
 the  union  of  the  two  can  make  sin  forgotten."  ^  "  The  aim  of  wisdom,"  it 
 says  again,  is  "  amendment  and  good  deeds."  *"  Bachya,  a  famous  Jewish 
 teacher  of  the  eleventh  century,  in  his"  Duties  of  the  Heart," '^  compares 
 the  Scriptures  to  a  ball  of  silk  composed  of  threads  of  three  different 
 c]ualitics.  The  historical  passages  are  lowest  in  the  scale  of  value ;  next 
 comes  the  ceremonial  law  ;  last  and  highest  of  all  are  the  spiritual  and 
 moral  truths.     Even  Maimonides,*-  though,  under  the  influence  of  Aristotle, 
 
 '   Isa.  i.  17.  *  Ihid.,  Iviii.  6.  '  Mical)  iv.  3,  4  ;  compare  Isa.  ii.  4. 
 
 *  Isa.  xi.  6-9.  '  Jer.  xxii.  15,  16.  '  Ibid.,  ix.  23,  24. 
 
 ^  Sotah,  5b.  *  Abodah  Zarali,  i6b.  ^  Abotb,  ii.  2.  ■"  Bcrachot,  17a. 
 
 "  At  the  end  of  the  Introduction.  '-'  12th  century. 
 
JEWISH  ETHICS.  697 
 
 he  makes  the  philosophic  life  tlie  highest  good,  joins  with  it,  as  part  of 
 the  ideal,  that  knowledge  of  God  which  is,  in  effect,  but  a  synonym  for  all 
 the  virtues.^ 
 
 Nor  is  it  only  obedience  to  the  ceremonial  law  or  the  attainment  ot 
 spiritual  calm  which,  according  to  Judaism,  is  surpassed  by  moral  excel- 
 lence. The  right  conduct  of  everyday  life  transcends  in  importance  even 
 right  belief.  Theology  must  yield  the  first  place  to  morals.  More  than 
 once  the  Biblical  writers  epitomize  the  whole  duty  of  man,  and  the  sum- 
 mary in  every  case  is  either  mainly  or  exclusively  ethical.  Need  I  remind 
 you  of  Psalm  xv.,  where  the  ideal  man — he  who  is  worthy  to  dwell  in 
 God's  holy  hill — is  described  as  he  that  walketh  uprightly,  that  speaketh 
 the  truth  in  his  heart,  that  slandereth  not  with  his  tongue,  that  despiseth 
 the  vile,  that  sweareth  to  his  own  hurt  and  changeth  not  ?  Or  need  I 
 quote  the  fine  saying  of  Micah  }- — "  He  hath  shewed  thee,  O  man,  what 
 is  good;  and  what  doth  the  Lord  require  of  thee  but  to  do  justly,  and  to 
 love  mercy,  and  to  walk  humbly  with  thy  God?"  Hillel,  the  great  Tal- 
 mudic  sage,  who  preceded  Jesus  by  some  seventy  years,  also  gives  a 
 summary  of  the  Israelite's  duty.  To  the  heathen  who  asks  to  be  taught 
 Judaism  while  he  stands  on  one  foot,  he  replies,  "  What  is  displeasing  to 
 thee  do  not  to  thy  fellow-man ;  this  is  the  whole  law,  the  rest  is  but  com- 
 mentary."^ "Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself" — this,  another 
 Rabbin — Akiba — in  a  similar  spirit,  declares  to  be  the  very  quintessence 
 of  Jewish  teaching.*  Yet  a  third  sage  finds  the  vital  principle  of  Judaism 
 in  tiie  words,  "  This  is  the  book  of  the  generations  of  Adam  "  ^ — a  passage 
 which,  afiirming  the  common  brotherhood  of  all  mankind,  teaches  that  the 
 moral  law  should  be  as  wide  as  humanity."  And  finally,  as  though  to 
 express  in  the  most  striking  manner  the  extent  to  which  rectitude  of  life 
 towers  above  mere  belief,  the  Talmud  affirms  that  the  heathen  who 
 observes  the  moral  law  is  the  equal  of  the  high  priest,'''  and  that  every 
 good  man,  no  matter  what  his  creed  may  be,  is  sure  of  Heaven.^  The  old, 
 much-misunderstood  Rabbins,  then,  were  clearly  at  one  with  Pope  : 
 
 "  For  modes  of  faith  let  graceless  zealots  fight  ; 
 His  can't  be  wrong  whose  life  is  in  the  right."' 
 
 You  will  not  conclude,  of  course,  that  Judaism  is  nothing  but  a  colfec- 
 tion  of  moral  axioms,  or  that  the  Jews  are  simply  a  society  for  ethical 
 culture.  Judaism  without  a  creed  would  obviously  be  a  contradiction  in 
 terms — an  impossibility.  It  is  superfluous  to  insist  upon  this  point  when 
 the  Bible,  which,  from  beginning  to  end,  is  one  long  sermon  about  God, 
 lies  open  before  you  all.  Every  teacher  in  Israel  has  necessarily  empha- 
 sized the  importance  of  belief  both  as  an  embodiment  of  the  truth  and  as 
 
 ^  For  a  masterly  analysis  of  Maimonides'  ethical  system  see  "  Die  Ethik  des  Mai- 
 monides,"  by  Dr.  David  Rosin  (Breslau  :    1S76). 
 
 2  Micah  vi.  8.  ^  Sabbath,  31a. 
 
 ■*  Siphrah,  Kedoshim,  iv.   12.  '"  Gen.  v.  I.         ^  Siphrah,  Kedoshitn,  iv.  12. 
 
 '  Baba  Kama,  38a.     **  Synhedrin,  105a.     Compare  Maimonides  :  Hilc.  Teslmbah,  iii.  5- 
 
 '  Essay  on  Man,  iii.  305. 
 
698  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 a  powerful  stimulus  and  support  to  moral  effort.  But,  while  Judaism 
 declares  that  faith  is  the  essential  basis  of  ethics,  it  makes  ethics  and  not 
 faith  the  ultimate  goal.  The  Psalmist  1  sets  the  Lord  continually  before 
 him,  but  only  because  he  knows  that  when  God  is  at  his  right  hand  he 
 will  not  be  moved — his  moral  stability  will  be  assured.  "  Acknowledge 
 Him,"  cries  the  wise  man  in  Proverbs,  "  in  all  thy  ways,  and  He  will  make 
 thy  paths  straight."  2  But  the  straightening  of  the  path,  the  life  that  is  "  in 
 the  right,"  is  the  chief  thing  to  be  desired.  The  whole  truth  is  pithily 
 summed  up  by  the  Talmud:  "Without  religion  there  can  be  no  true 
 morality  ;  without  morality  there  can  be  no  true  religion."^ 
 
 Let  us  now  attempt  to  catch  a  glimpse — though,  owing  to  the  vast 
 extent  of  the  subject  it  must  necessarily  be  a  very  imperfect  glimpse — of 
 the  nature  of  that  moral  teaching  which  occupies  so  large  a  place  in  the 
 Jewish  system.  The  very  highest  standard  of  conduct  is  laid  down — the 
 very  noblest  motive  is  appealed  to.  "  Ye  shall  be  holy,  for  I,  the  Lord 
 your  God,  am  holy."  In  striving  after  righteousness  the  Israelite  is  to  set 
 before  his  eyes  a  Divine  ideal.  The  ways  of  God  to  man  are  to  be  the 
 type  of  what  the  ways  of  men  to  each  other  should  be.  God  "doth 
 execute  the  judgment  of  the  fatherless  and  widow,  and  loveth  the  stranger, 
 in  giving  him  food  and  raiment.  Love  ye,  therefore,  the  stranger."  *  Nor 
 is  this  imitation  of  God  the  sole  incentive  held  out.  The  command  to  be 
 holy  since  God  is  holy,  includes  also  a  warning  against  a  moral  degrada 
 tion  which  snaps  the  links  that  bind  man,  who  is  created  in  the  Divine 
 image,  to  his  Maker.  Through  moral  impurity,  as  well  as  through  physical 
 uncleanness,  the  Divine  Presence,  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  camp,  is 
 banished,  and  God  turns  away  from  the  transgressor.  No  more  powerful 
 expression  can  be  found  for  the  disturbance  of  the  relations  between  man 
 and  his  Creator  than  that  which  declares  that  God  hides  His  face  from 
 the  sinner.^  And  just  as  transgression  estranges  the  guilty  one  from  his 
 heavenly  Father,  so  to  repent  is  to  go  back  to  Him — to  be  united  with 
 Him  again — to  mend  the  links  that  iniquity  has  broken.  ^^ Return,  O 
 Israel,  unto  the  Lord  thy  God,  for  thou  \mst/(7/ku  by  thine  iniquity."  ^  It 
 would  be  impossible  to  conceive  a  more  forcible  or  more  beautiful  descrip- 
 tion of  the  debasement  wrought  by  sin,  or  of  the  ennoblement  which 
 penitence  is  to  achieve. 
 
 God,  then,  is  to  be  the  pattern  by  which  men  are  to  shape  their  lives, 
 estrangement  from  Him — a  falling  away  from  the  high  standard  of  purity 
 He  is  ever  setting  them — the  one  great  conse([uence  of  wrongdoing  which 
 is  to  act  as  their  chief  deterrent.  And  thus  we  are  face  to  face  with  the 
 motives  to  which  Judaism  appeals  in  its  exhortations  to  virtue.  John  Stuart 
 Mill  charges  Religion  with  pandering  to  men's  self-interest,  to  the  neglect 
 of  those  nobler  aspirations   which  it  should  be   its   aim   to  arouse  and 
 
 '   Ps.  xvi.  8.  2  prov.  iii.  6.  *  Ahoth,  iii.  21. 
 
 *  Deut.  X.  18,  19.     Compare  .Siphrc  on  Deiit.  xi.  22. 
 
 "  Jl'it/.,  xxxi.  18,  xxxii.  20;  Isa.  i.  15.     "  Ilosea  xiv.  i.     Compare  Deut.  iv.  30,  xxx.  2. 
 
JEWISH  ETHICS.  699 
 
 develop.^  It  is  not  a  fair  accusation.  The  Pentateuch  promises  worldly 
 recompense  to  the  worldly-minded — to  the  spiritually  youthful,  whom  the 
 picture  of  comparatively  sordid  delights  alone  can  influence.  But  it  does 
 not  forget  the  nobler  spirits  whom  the  admonition  to  love  God  with  all 
 their  heart  and  with  all  their  soul  and  with  all  their  might,  suffices  to 
 kindle  with  an  enthusiasm  for  duty.^  This  love  of  God,  which  is  at  once 
 the  inspiration  and  the  exceeding  great  reward  of  the  good  man,  becomes, 
 notably  in  the  case  of  the  Psalmist,  an  all-absorbing  passion.  It  manifests 
 itself  in  the  rapture  with  which  he  ponders  the  Divine  commands.  "  O 
 how  I  love  thy  law,"  he  cries  ;  "it  is  my  meditation  all  the  day  long."^ 
 The  same  single-hearted  devotion  is  expressed  again  in  that  rejoicing  in 
 the  Lord,  of  which  the  Psalms  are  full.  "  Then  will  I  go  unto  the  altar  of 
 GoH,  unto  God,  my  exceeding  joy."*  It  is  a  joy,  too,  which  the  storms 
 of  life  cannot  quench,  which,  because  it  is  independent  of  worldly  recom- 
 pense, survives  the  most  searching  trials  and  disasters.  "  Although  the 
 fig-tree  shall  not  blossom,  neither  shall  fruit  be  in  the  vines  ;  the  labour  of 
 the  olive  shall  fail,  and  the  fields  shall  yield  no  meat ;  the  flock  shall  be 
 cut  off  from  the  fold,  and  there  shall  be  no  herd  in  the  stalls  :  Yet  I  will 
 rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will  joy  in  the  God  of  my  salvation."  °  In  like 
 manner  the  Talmud,  despite  its  frequent  references  to  the  bliss  of  Eternal 
 Life,  does  not  omit  to  warn  us  that  the  highest  form  of  duty  is  that 
 which  is  performed  for  its  own  sake,  without  thought  of  recompense. 
 "  Be  not  like  servants  that  serve  the  master  for  wages  ;  let  your  motive  be 
 only  reverence  for  heaven."**  The  good  man,  the  Rabbins  farther  teach, 
 finds  his  supreme  delight  in  the  Divine  commands  themselves,  not  in 
 thinking  of  the  reward  that  obedience  will  bringJ 
 
 A  distinguishing  characteristic  of  Jewish  ethical  teaching  is  its  reason- 
 ableness and  moderation.  It  is  marked  by  no  excess,  no  extravagance. 
 It  demands  nothing  that  is  impossible  for  the  individual,  nothing  that  is 
 inconsistent  with  tlie  well-being,  nay,  the  existence,  of  society.  Something 
 more  than  mere  almsgiving,  which  is  too  often  self-pity  masquerading  in 
 the  garb  of  mercy,  is  recommended  by  the  Pentateuch.  Careful  study  of 
 the  condition  and  real  needs  of  the  poor — a  rarer  and  more  difficult  task — 
 this  is  expressly  enjoined.  The  rich,  according  to  Deuteronomy,^  are  to 
 open  their  hand,  not  for  the  purpose  of  giving  mere  doles,  but  of  lending 
 the  poor  man  "  sufficient  for  his  need."  And  notice  that  lending  rather 
 than  giving  is  here  recommended.  The  self-respect  of  the  deserving  poor 
 is  not  to  be  wounded  in  the  attempt  to  rob  poverty  of  its  sting.  Similarly 
 the  Talmud  declares  that  loans  are  preferable  to  almsgiving,^  and  Mai- 
 monides,  in  distinguishing  the  merits  of  various  benevolent  deeds,  assigns 
 the  highest  place  to  those  considerate  acts  which  aim  at  destroying  pau- 
 perism, and  restoring  to  the  poor  their  lost  independence.^*^ 
 
 '  See  his  Essay  on  the  "Utility  of  Religion."         -  Deut.  vi.  5.         '  Ps.  cxix.  97. 
 
 ♦   Ps.  xHii.  4.  ^  Hab.  iii.  17,  18.  ®  Aboth,  i.  3.  ^  Abodah  Zarah,  19b. 
 
 »  Deut.  XV.  8.  9  Sabbath,  63a.  *"  Uilc.  Mat.  Aniyim,  x.  7-14. 
 
700  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OE   THE    WORLD. 
 
 But,  while  there  is  no  virtue  more  highly  appraised,  or  more  frequently 
 commended,  than  benevolence,  it  is  the  benevolence  that  is  not  exercised 
 at  the  expense  of  any  other  virtue.  If  mercy  ought  to  season  justice, 
 justice  ought  equally  to  season  mercy.  The  cry  of  the  oppressed,  we  are 
 warned,  sounds  loudest  in  God's  ear;i  but  the  judge  is  cautioned  not  to 
 favour  the  poor  man  out  of  regard  for  his  poverty.'-^  "  Justice,  justice, 
 shalt  thou  pursue  ;  "  ^ — and  the  command  is  the  keystone  of  the  entire 
 fabric  of  the  social  ethics  taught  by  the  Bible.* 
 
 In  short,  Jewish  ethical  teaching  is  singularly  free  from  mere  senti-. 
 mentalism.^  Virtues  are  commended,  not  because  they  are  intrinsically 
 beautiful,  but  because  they  either  ennoble  the  character  or  add  to  the 
 common  stock  of  human  happiness,  ^^stheticism  as  the  basis  of  morals 
 is  a  notion  which  the  Jew  left  to  the  ancient  philosophers ;  a  maudlin, 
 hysterical  morality  he  leaves  to  some  more  modern  folks.  His  is  a  healthy, 
 a  robust,  a  practical  ethic.  Meekness  that  takes  the  form  of  useless  self- 
 abasement,  the  "pride  that  apes  humility,"  is  out  of  the  range  of  his 
 sympathies.  Idleness,  though  it  has  the  odour  of  sanctity,  self-imposed 
 suffering  endured  for  no  reason  in  particular,  he  abhors.  He  has  no 
 benediction  for  misery.  His  aim  is  to  banish  it  from  every  heart,  not  to 
 revel  in  it  as  a  luxury  if  it  has  invaded  his  own.  And  so  there  is  a  cheer- 
 fulness running  through  all  the  ethical  teaching  of  Judaism  which  is  as  far 
 removed  from  the  austerity  of  the  cloister  as  it  is  from  latter-day  pessimism. 
 It  is  brought  to  a  focus  in  the  Talmudic  saying  that  the  Spirit  of  God 
 rests  not  on  the  idle  or  the  woebegone,  but  on  those  who  do  their  duty 
 and  are  glad.^ 
 
 The  whole  Bible  is  one  great  picture  of  activity.  It  has  no  place  for 
 monks  or  nuns  ;  its  men  and  women  seek  amid  the  struggles  and  trials  of 
 the  world  for  the  discipline  that  leads  to  moral  perfection.  Think  only 
 of  that  exquisite  description  of  the  virtuous  woman  at  the  end  of  Proverbs. 
 The  beauty  of  the  i)ortrait  lies  not  in  any  abstract  loveliness,  but  in  its 
 reasonableness,  in  its  telling  a  tale  that  every  heart,  every  common-sense 
 mind,  applauds.  It  is  the  portrait,  not  of  a  saint,  but  of  what  is  equally- 
 noble  and  far  more  useful — a  true  woman.  "  She  spreadeth  out  her  hand 
 to  the  poor"  ;  "the  law  of  kindness  is  on  her  tongue  "  ;  but  "  strength  and 
 dignity  are  her  clothing,"  and  "she  looketh  well  to  the  ways  of  her  house- 
 hold." She  scorns  to  eat  the  "bread  of  idleness."  And  it  is  she  that  is 
 deemed  worthy  to  be  called  a  "God-fearing  woman" — one  whose  "works 
 shall  praise  her  in  the  gates." 
 
 '   Exod.  xxii.  23.  2  7/,/,/.^  xxiii.  3.  '  Deut.  xvi.  20. 
 
 *  A  warning  against  excess,  even  in  ethics,  is  to  be  discerned  in  the  striking  Talmudic 
 passage  (Jcr.  Cha,t,'igah  ii.  i)  :  "The  Law  may  be  likened  to  two  roads,  one  of  fire,  the 
 other  of  snow.  To  follow  the  one  is  to  perish  by  the  fire  ;  to  follow  the  otlier  is  to  die 
 of  the  cold.  The  middle  path  alone  is  safe."  Compare  Aristotle's  Doctrine  of  the 
 Mean. 
 
 '  Maimonides  cautions  us  against  false  pity.  Compassion  for  the  evildoer  is  cruelty  to 
 Society.     (More  Nelnichim,  iii.  39.)      ^  Sabbath,  30b. 
 
JEWISH  ETHICS.  70 j 
 
 "  Seest  thou  a  man  diligent  in  his  work  ?  he  shall  stand  before  Kings."  1 
 The  dignity  of  honest  labour  could  not  be  more  forcibly  expressed.  The 
 wise  man  in  Proverbs  reserves  his  fiercest  indignation,  his  most  biting 
 sarcasm,  for  the  sluggard,  with  his  plea  for  a  little  more  slumber, "^  his 
 excuses  about  the  lion  in  the  street.^  And  the  Talmud  once  more  is  the 
 echo  of  Holy  Writ.  The  Rabbins  insist  upon  the  glory  of  studying  the 
 Law,  with  almost  wearisome  iteration.  And  yet  these  very  men  were 
 the  most  enthusiastic  preachers  of  the  Gospel  of  Work  that  the  world  has 
 ever  seen.  "The  study  of  the  Law,"  they  said,  "that  does  not  go  hand- 
 in-hand  with  active  industry  is  doomed  to  failure."  ^  "  Great  is  labour," 
 they  also  taught,  "for  it  honours  the  labourer."^  The  saying  recalls  Mrs. 
 Browning's  admonition  : 
 
 ".     .     ,     .     Cet  work,  get  work, 
 Be  sure  'tis  better  than  what  you  work  to  get."  ' 
 
 "Flay  a  carcase  in  tiie  streets,"  continues  the  Talmud,  "and  take  thy 
 wage,  and  say  not  I  am  a  great  man,  and  the  occupation  is  beneath  me."'' 
 "Greater  even  than  the  God-fearing  man  is  he  who  lives  by  his  toil.''^ 
 "  He  who  does  not  teach  his  son  a  handicraft-trade  virtually  teaches  him 
 to  steal"*' — the  Talmud  clearly  anticipated  the  modern  agitation  in  favour 
 of  technical  teaching.  The  Rabbins  preached,  but  practised  too.  In  the 
 schools  they  were  the  greatest  of  the  great ;  in  the  world  many  of  them 
 followed  the  humblest  callings.  They  were  wood-cutters,  shoemakers, 
 masons,  mere  day-labourers — everything  but  idlers.*" 
 
 Manliness — this  is  the  dominant  note  of  the  Jewish  ethic.  "  It  is  a 
 good  sign,"  the  Rabbins  characteristically  remark,  "when  a  man  walks 
 with  head  erect."  '*  One  is  reminded  of  Longfellow's  "  Village  Black- 
 smith," who  "  looks  the  whole  world  in  the  face."  The  same  idea  is  dis- 
 cernible in  the  old  Levitical  law  which  warns  us  against  hating  our  brother 
 in  our  heart.*'-  If  we  have  a  grievance  against  him  we  are  to  go  to  him  in 
 d  straightforward  way,  and  tell  him  so  to  his  face.  "Thou  shalt  surely 
 rebuke  thy  neighbour."  *'^  What  a  host  of  fatal  misunderstandings  would 
 be  prevented  if  this  salutary  command  were  generally  obeyed  I 
 
 But  while  so  much  emphasis  is  laid  on  a  robust  morality,  it  must  not  be 
 supposed  that  the  gentler  virtues  are  overlooked.  The  crowning  excel- 
 lence of  Moses,  Israel's  Lawgiver  and  greatest  prophet,  is  his  meekness.** 
 Similarly,  Hillel — perhaps  the  most  eminent  of  the  Rabbins — is  chiefly 
 praised  because  of  his  patience  and  humility.  Centuries  before  the  Sermon 
 on  the  Mount  was  preached,  the  Psalmist  declared  that  "  the  meek  shall 
 
 '   Prov.  xxii.  29.  -  //'id.,  vi.  10.  ^  li't'd,  xxvi.  13. 
 
 *  Aboth,  ii.  2.  *  Nedarini,  49b.  *  "Aurora  Leigh,"  Book  iii. 
 
 ^  Baba  Bathra,  lioa.  '^  Berachot,  8a.  '  Kiddushin,  29a. 
 
 '"  The  passages  in  the  Talmud  relating  to  Work  have  been  collected  by  Dr.  Seligman 
 Mever:    "Arbeit  und  Handwork  im  Talmud,"  Berlin,  187S. 
 
 ''  Aboth  d'  R.  Nathan.     Cap.  37.  >-  Lev.  xix.  17.  "  I&tJ, 
 
 '*  Num.  xii.  3. 
 
702  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 inherit  the  earth."  ^  Be  the  oppressed,  says  the  Talmud,  rather  than  the 
 oppressor.-  He  that  is  reviled,  yet  answers  not,  attains  to  a  glory  like 
 that  of  the  sun  at  the  zenith.-^  And  so,  too,  with  the  virtue  of  forgiveness. 
 "Thou  shalt  not  avenge  nor  bear  a  grudge,"'^  is  one  of  the  oldest  precepts 
 of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures.  The  Israelite  is  expressly  warned  against  re- 
 fusing to  help  his  enemy  in  his  hour  of  need — when,  for  example,  he  seeks 
 his  ass  that  has  gone  astray,  or  when  his  ox  has  fallen  under  its  burden.^ 
 "Rejoice  not,"  cries  the  wise  man,  "when  thy  enemy  falleth."*^  "If,"  he 
 adds  elsewhere,  "  thine  enemy  be  hungry,  give  him  bread  to  eat ;  and  if  he 
 be  thirsty,  give  him  water  to  drink."  7  As  for  the  Talmud — to  give  one 
 typical  instance — it  tells  ^  how,  stung  by  the  incessant  persecution  of  his 
 neighbours,  a  famous  Rabbi  hurls  an  execration  at  his  tormentors.  His 
 wife  rebukes  him.  The  Psalmist,  she  points  out,  prays  not  for  the  destruc- 
 tion of  the  sinner,  but  for  the  extinction  of  sin.  "  Let  iniquity"  it  is 
 written,  "cease  from  the  earth,  and  then  the  wicked  will  be  no  more."^ 
 
 And  this  story  serves  also  to  illustrate  the  attitude  of  Judaism  to  Woman. 
 The  Talmudic  sages  who  could  imagine  and  describe  a  Rabbi  being  taught 
 his  duty  by  his  wife,  could  not,  in  spite  of  some  of  their  maxims  on  the 
 subject  being  racy  of  the  Eastern  soil,  and  redolent  of  the  spirit  of  the  age, 
 have  had  a  low  idea  of  female  worth. ^^  Akiba,  too,  the  master  of  a  legion  of 
 disciples,  the  martyr  for  the  cause  of  Judaism,  owed  his  eminence  and  his 
 fame  to  his  wife.^^  She  first  inspired  him  with  the  enthusiasm  which  made 
 him  a  teacher  in  Israel.  She  has  her  Biblical  counterparts  in  a  Miriam,  a 
 Deborah,  a  Huldah,  an  Esther — in  the  typical  virtuous  woman  I  spoke  of 
 just  now.  The  Rabbins  would  not  have  understood  the  expression  "single 
 blessedness."  "He  who  has  no  wife,"  they  taught,  "lives  without  happi- 
 ness, without  religion,  without  blessing."  i-  In  their  opinion,  clearly,  mar- 
 riage was  //('/  a  failure ;  but  then  they  were  old-fashioned  people  who  were 
 not  fortunate  enough  to  live  in  the  nineteenth  century.  "  The  unmarried 
 man,"  they  declared,  "  is  not  a  complete  man,"  ^^  an  idea  which  Shakespeare 
 has  expressed  more  fully  : — 
 
 "lie  is  the  half-part  of  a  blessed  man, 
 Left  to  be  finished  by  such  as  she  ; 
 And  she  a  fair  divided  excellence, 
 Whose  fulness  of  perfection  lies  in  him."  '■* 
 
 The  utmost  tenderness  and  consideration  is  enjoined   on   the  husband. 
 "The  tears  of  the  injured  wife  are  counted  in  Heaven."  i° 
 
 I  trust  the  sex  will  not  think  me  uncomplimentary  in  passing  direct  from 
 Woman  to  animals.     There  is  a  connecting  link  between  the  two  in  the 
 
 '  Psalm  xxxvii.  ii,  »  Sabbath,  88b.  ^  Jhid. 
 
 *  Lev.  xix.  l8.  *  Cen.  xxiii.  4,  5.  "  I'mv.  xxiv.  17. 
 
 '  J/iiii.,  XXV.  21.  8  Berachot,  loa,  »  Psalm  civ.  -55. 
 
 '"  The  harsh  sayings  about  the  sex,  which  are  occasionally  to  be  found  in  the  Talmud, 
 are  matched  by  the  "  fierce  invectives"  of  the  Church  Fathers.  See  Lecky  :  "  Hist,  of 
 European  Morals,"  vol.  ii.  cap.  5. 
 
 "  Nedarim,  50a.  '2  Rereshith  Rabbah,  xvi.  "  Uhi. 
 
 "  Ktn^John,  Act  ii.,  scene  i.  •*  Sec  Yebamoth,  62b. 
 
JEWISH  ETHICS.  703 
 
 tendency  of  vile  men  to  take  advantage  of  their  comparative  defenceless- 
 ness.  The  claims  of  the  lower  animals  on  human  pity  and  consideration 
 have  been  strangely  overlooked  by  most  ethical  systems,  not  excluding 
 Christianity.  "In  the  range  and  circle  of  duties,"  remarks  Mr.  Lecky, 
 *'  inculcated  by  the  early  Fathers,  those  to  animals  had  no  place.  This  is 
 indeed,"  he  continues,  "the  one  form  of  humanity  which  appears  more 
 prominently  in  the  Old  Testament  than  in  the  New.  The  many  beautiful 
 traces  of  it  in  the  former  .  .  .  gave  way  before  an  ardent  philanthropy 
 which  regarded  human  interests  as  the  one  end,  and  the  relations  of  man 
 to  his  Creator  as  tiie  one  question,  of  life,  and  dismissed  somewhat  con- 
 temptuously as  an  idle  sentimentalism,  notions  of  duty  to  animals."  ^  The 
 only  religious  system,  I  believe,  besides  Judaism,  which  has  given  a 
 prominent  place  to  this  duty,  is  that  which  is  attributed  to  Zoroaster.- 
 1  need  hardly  cite  the  passages  in  the  Hebrew  Bible  which  insist  upon  a 
 humane  treatment  of  the  brute.  The  precepts  forbidding  the  muzzling  of 
 the  ox  when  llireshing,^  the  slaughter  of  the  dam  and  tlie  young  on  the 
 same  day,^  and  the  taking  of  the  mother-bird  with  the  nestlings;^  the 
 command  which  insists  upon  domesticated  animals  sharing  with  their 
 master  the  rest  of  the  Sabbath  day/'  the  saying  in  Proverbs  that  the 
 righteous  man  regardeth  the  soul  of  his  beast " — these  are  familiar  to  you 
 all.  The  Rabbins  enforced  the  duty  with  equal  emphasis.  Kindness  to 
 animals  becomes,  in  the  Talmud,  the  basis  of  a  whole  code  of  laws.  The 
 Rabbinical  prescriptions  regulating  the  mode  of  slaughtering  animals 
 intended  for  food  are  in  part  due  to  a  desire  to  prevent  the  slightest  un- 
 necessary suffering.*^  A  great  Rabbi  is  said  to  have  been  punished  with 
 long  and  continued  physical  pain  because  when  a  calf  which  was  about  to 
 be  killed  ran  to  him  bleating  for  pri)tection,  he  roughly  repulsed  the 
 animal,  exclaiming,  "  Go  ;  that  is  thy  destiny."  »  On  the  other  hand,  in  a 
 beautiful  legend  which  the  poet  Coleridge  has  paraphrased,  the  Rabbins 
 tell  how  Moses,  while  he  is  still  Jethro's  shepherd,  seeks  out  a  stray  lamb 
 and  tenderly  carries  the  tired  creature  in  his  arms  back  to  the  fold,  and 
 how  a  voice  from  Heaven  cries,  "Thou  art  worthy  to  be  My  people's 
 pastor."  ^"  This  sympathy  for  the  dumb  animals  is  all  the  more  remarkable 
 because  the  Rabbins  lived  in  an  age  when  cruelty  to  both  man  and  beast 
 was  commonly  condoned.  The  terrible  scenes  in  the  Roman  arena  are 
 only  too  clear  an  indication  of  the  inhumanity  which  prevailed  in  the 
 civilized  world  during  the  Talmudic  period.  It  is  true  that  philosophers 
 like   Plutarch  condemned  the   cruelties  of  the    amphitheatre,  and    even 
 
 '   "  Hist,  of  Europ.  Morals,"  vol.  ii.  cap.  4. 
 
 "^  Tlie  reference  is  to  the  Vendidail. 
 
 ^  Deut.  XXV.  4.  *  Lev.  xxii.  28.  ^  Deut.  xxii.  6. 
 
 *  Exod.  XX.  10.  '  Prov.  xii.  10. 
 
 8  The  Israelite  is  enjoined  to  feed  his  animals  before  sitting  down  to  his  own  meal. 
 •See  Gittin,  62a. 
 
 '•  Haba  Metzia,  85a. 
 
 '"  Shemoth  R.ihbah,  Cap.  IT.,  where  it  is  also  declared  that  it  was  because  he  was  a 
 kind  shepherd  that  David  was  divinely  chosen  King  of  Israel. 
 
704  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 taught  the  positive  duty  of  kindness  to  animals.  But  a  doctrine  tardily 
 preached  by  a  handful  of  theorists  whom  men  generally  agreed  to  ignore, 
 was  embodied  in  practical  precepts  and  enforced  by  the  Jewish  Sages, 
 inspired  by  the  ancient  law  of  the  Bible.  The  gladiatorial  shows  they 
 declared  to  be  an  abomination,  they  went  even  further,  and  forbade  the 
 chase.^  Had  they  lived  to-day,  they  might  have  founded  the  Royal  Society 
 for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals ;  but  they  would  not  have 
 sanctioned  coursing  or  tolerated  a  fox-hunt. 
 
 This  prohibition  of  cruelty  to  animals  originates  as  much  in  the  desire 
 to  prevent  the  moral  debasement  of  the  man  as  in  the  anxiety  to  save  his 
 possible  victim  from  suffering.  Judaism,  indeed,  is  as  strong  in  its  sub- 
 jective as  in  its  objective  morality.  It  condemns  evil  thoughts  and  evil 
 desires,  because  of  their  degrading  effects  upon  the  mind  and  the  soul,  as 
 severely  as  it  stigmatises  evil  acts.  "  Give  me  thy  heart,  my  son,"  ^  is  the 
 constant  cry  of  Jewish  ethics.  Full  of  significance  is  the  warning  against 
 the  mere  feeling  of  covetousness  which  is  embodied  in  tlie  Decalogue 
 side  by  side  with  the  denunciations  of  the  most  deadly  sins.  A  Lord 
 Amberley'^  could  contemptuously  question  the  utility  of  the  warning;  but 
 a  keener  and  a  juster  critic  like  Ewald  clearly  discerned  its  necessity. *• 
 "  Look,"  says  Ruskin,  too,  "  look  into  the  history  of  any  civilized  nations  ; 
 analyze  the  lives  and  thoughts  of  their  nobles,  priests,  merchants,  and 
 men  of  luxurious  life.  Every  other  temptation  is  at  last  concentrated  in 
 this ;  pride,  and  lust,  and  envy,  and  anger,  all  give  up  their  strength  to 
 avarice."  '"  In  the  same  way  the  Israelite  is  cautioned  against  nourishing 
 hatred,  even  though  it  be  unaccompanied  by  any  overt  act.''  And  the  man 
 who,  according  to  the  Psalmist,  is  worthy  of  standing  in  God's  holy  place, 
 is  he  whose  hands  are  clean  but  whose  heart  also  is  pure.'  "What  the 
 Almighty  chiefly  desires,"  says  the  Talmud  in  its  turn,  "is  the  heart." ^ 
 "  As  soon,"  it  teaches  elsewhere,  "  as  the  thought  of  sin  has  entered  the 
 mind,  the  guilt  has  already  commenced."  '■^  With  evil  desire,  it  further 
 points  out,  a  fierce  battle  must  be  fought  until  the  victory  is  gained.^*^ 
 And,  finally,  to  quote  one  of  those  paradoxes  in  which  the  Rabbins  de- 
 lighted :  "Sinful  thoughts  are  worse  than  sin  itself." -^  Nor  is  the  rectitude 
 to  be  aimed  at  simply  negative ;  it  is  not  to  consist  in  the  mere  defeat  of 
 evil  longings— in  a  moral  vacuum.  A  positive  striving  after  goodness  and 
 nobility  of  life  is  praised  as  the  highest  effort.  In  the  ascending  scale  of 
 virtue  the  Talmud  places  above  the  avoidance  of  sin  and  above  humility 
 that  absolute  jjurity  of  character  which,  it  declares,  alone  merits  to  have 
 the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit.^2  Professor  Sidgwick,  then,  is  less  fair  or  less 
 acute  than  usual  when  he  affirms,  to  the  disparagement  of  Judaism,  that 
 
 '  Abodah  Zarah,  i8b.  ^  Prov.  xxiii.  26. 
 
 "•  "Analysis  of  Religious  Belief,"  vol.  ii.  246. 
 
 ■*   "GescliidUe  dcs  Volkes  Israel,"  vol.  ii.  p.   153.  ^  "  Ethics  of  the  Dust,"  p.   15. 
 
 "  Lev.  xix.  17.     See  Siphrah  on  the  passage.     Compare  Zech.  vii.  10 ;  viii.  17. 
 
 ^  Psalm  xxiii.  3,  4.  "  Synhed.,  io6b.  *  Midrash  on  Num.,  v.  6. 
 
 '"  Berachot,  5a.  "  Yonia,  29a.  '-  Abodah  Zarah,  20b. 
 
 I 
 
JEWISH  ETHICS.  705 
 
 "the  contrast  with  the  'righteousness  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees'  has 
 always  served  to  mark  the  requirements  of  '  inwardness '  as  a  distinctive 
 feature  of  the  Christian  code — an  inwardness  not  merely  negative,  tending 
 to  the  repression  of  vicious  desires  as  well  as  vicious  acts,  but  also  involving 
 a  positive  rectitude  of  the  inner  state  of  the  soul."^ 
 
 One  other  characteristic  of  Jewish  ethics  remains  to  be  noticed.  The 
 notion  that  Judaism  teaches  a  narrow  morality,  to  be  practised  for  the 
 exclusive  benefit  of  the  Jew,  is  as  erroneous  as  the  cognate  idea  that  the 
 God  of  the  Hebrew  Bible  is  a  mere  tribal  God.  It  is  impossible  to  ex- 
 plain away  the  stubborn  fact  that  the  old  Mosaic  Code  contains  the  maxim, 
 "Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself";  and  that,  as  though  to  pre- 
 vent any  misunderstanding  of  the  words,  it  almost  immediately  repeats  the 
 command  in  reference  to  the  stranger.^  Similarly,  the  poor  man  is  to  be 
 liberally  and  considerately  helped,  even  though  he  be  a  stranger  or  a 
 sojourner;  he  is  the  Israelite's  "  brother."  ^  Even  the  Egyptian,  Israel's 
 original  enemy,  his  taskmaster,  his  enslaver,  is  not  to  be  oppressed.^  He 
 is  a  stranger— isolated,  helpless;  and  "ye  know,"  adds  the  Law,  "the 
 heart  of  a  stranger,  seeing  ye  were  strangers  in  the  land  of  Egypt."  ^ 
 The  ancient  wrong  is  to  be  forgotten  ;  all  that  is  to  be  remembered  is  the 
 Egyptian's  need,  his  possible  suffering.  But  let  us  turn  to  the  Rabbins. 
 To  rob  a  (icntile  is  declared  to  be  even  worse  than  robbing  a  Jew,  for 
 besides  being  immoral  it  disgraces  Judaism."  Nor  is  it  only  positive 
 dishonesty,  but  deception,  too,  which  is  denounced,  whoever  its  victim 
 may  be.'^  The  duty  of  kindness  is  made  equally  universal.  We  are  bound 
 the  Talmud  teaches,  to  relieve  the  i)oor,  to  visit  the  sick,  to  bury  the  dead, 
 without  distinction  of  race  or  religion.^  When,  according  to  the  Rab- 
 binical legend,  the  Egyptians  were  engulfed  in  the  waters  of  the  Red  Sea, 
 the  angels  desired  to  sing  praises  to  God.  The  Almighty  rebuked  them. 
 "My  children,  the  work  of  My  Hands,  are  perishing;  tliis  is  not  the  time 
 for  psalmody."  ^  A  Talmudic  Rabbi  was  accustomed  after  his  public  de- 
 votions to  offer  up  this  prayer: — "May  it  be  Thy  will,  O  God,  that  no 
 man  may  be  my  enemy,  and  that  no  enmity  towards  any  man  may  take 
 root  in  my  heart."  Similarly,  a  modern  Jewish  Catechism  teaches  that  it 
 is  our  duty  to  say  every  day  when  we  rise,  and  before  we  lie  down,  and 
 before  we  commence  our  prayers  :  "  Behold  I  am  about  to  obey  the 
 command,  'Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself.'  Forgive,  O  Lord, 
 him  that  injures  me."^"  As  for  the  Rabbins  of  the  Middle  Ages,  I  might 
 quote  a  long  string  of  specific  injunctions  of  the  most  precise  and  em- 
 phatic character,  inculcating  the  practice  of  justice,  honesty  and  charity 
 towards  all  men,  without  distinction  of  creed. ^^     I  prefer,  however,  to  cite 
 
 '  "  Ilistor)'  of  Ethics,"  p.  ii2.     -   Lev.  xix.  34.  ^  Lev.  xxv.  35,  36. 
 
 ■*  Deut.  xxiii.  7.  ^  Exod.  xxiii.  9.  *  Tosefta  B.  Kama,  cap.  10. 
 
 ^  Chulin,  94a.  8  Gittin,  6ia.  '  Mechilta  on  Exod.  xv. 
 
 '"  Johlson's  "  Mosaic  Religion,"  translated  by  Isaac  Leaser,  p.  106. 
 "  Tlie  wiiole  question  of  tlie  attitude  of  Judaism  to  the  Gentile  is  ably  discussed  by 
 Dr.  Griinebaum  :  "Die  Sittenlehre  des  Judenthums,"  Mannheim,  1867. 
 
 VOL.    I.— pt.  2.  3  A 
 
7o6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 some  maxims  of  these  teachers  on  other  subjects  as  well,  because  they  will 
 give  you  an  idea  of  what  Jewish  ethical  doctrine  generally  was  at  a  time 
 when  morality  was  not  the  world's  strong  point,  when,  moreover,  perse- 
 cution was  doing  its  best  to  crush  out  every  noble  aspiration  from  the 
 Jewish  soul. 
 
 The  following  is  from  a  work  of  the  eleventh  century :  ^     "  Speak  the 
 truth  ;  be  modest ;  live  on  the  coarsest  fare  rather  than  be  dependent  on 
 others.     Shun  evil  companions  ;  be  not  like  the  flies  which  swarm  in  foul 
 places.      Rejoice  not  when  thine  enemy  falls  ;  be  not  both  witness  and 
 judge  ;  avoid  anger,   the  heritage  of  fools."     The  following  maxims  are 
 two  centuries   later  :  ^     "  No  crown   surpasses  humility,  no  monument  a 
 good  name,  no  gain  the  performance  of  duty.     The  good  man  leads  others 
 in  the  right  path,  loves  his  neighbour,  gives  his  charity  in  secret,  does  right 
 from  pure  motives  and  for  God's  sake  ;  he  indulges  in  no  idle  talk,  he  is 
 free  from  the  lust  of  the  eye  ;  he  is  reviled  yet  answers  not.     He  shuts  his 
 heart  against  all  envy  save  that  excited  by  another's  virtues  ;  he  makes  the 
 righteous  his  example ;  he  deceives  no  one  by  word  or  deed."     A  book  ^ 
 belonging  to  nearly  the  same  age  contains  these  aphorisms:  "Serve  not  thy 
 Maker  because  thou  hopest  for  Paradise,  but  from  pure  love  of  Him  and  His 
 commands.     Give  thy  life  for  His  service,  like  a  soldier  in  battle.    Deceive 
 no  one,  neither  Jew  nor  Gentile  ;  quarrel  with  no  one,  whatever  his  creed. 
 If  one  would  borrow  of  thee,  and  thou  hast  doubts  of  being  repaid,  do  not 
 lie,  saying  thou  hast  no  money.     On  him  that  oppresses  the  poor  or  buys 
 stolen  goods,  no  blessing  rests.       If  a  murderer  would  take  refuge  with 
 thee,  consent  not  to  hide  him,  yea,  though   he  be  a  Jew.     Honour  the 
 virtuous  Gentile,  not  the  irreligious  Israelite.     In  morals  Jew  and  Cliris- 
 tian,  as  a  rule,  are  alike.     On  those  that  clip  the  coin,  on  usurers,  on  such 
 as  have  false  weights  and  measures,  or  who  are  in  any  wise  dishonest  in 
 business,  there  is  no  blessing.       The  worst  failing  is  ingratitude  ;  it  must 
 not  be  shown  even  to  the  brute.      More  guilty  even  than  those  who  are 
 cruel  to  animals  are  the  employers  that  ill-treat  their  servants.      Pay  thy 
 debts  before  thou  givest  alms.      If  one  has  cheated  or  injured  thee  in  any 
 way,  let  not  revenge  tempt  thee  to  do  the  same  to  him."     Here  again  are 
 a  few  sayings   chosen  almost  at  random  from   various  writers  :  "  The  alms 
 given  in   health  are  gold  ;  in  illness,  silver ;  left  by  will,  copper."     "  Put 
 no  one  to  the  blush  in  public ;  misuse  thy  power  against  no  man."     "  Be- 
 ware of  drunkenness,  and  thou  wilt  not  have  to  repent  of  shameful  behaviour." 
 "  A  man's  virtues  are  pearls,  and  the  thread  on  which  they  are  strung  is  the 
 fear  of  God ;  break  tiie  thread,  and  the  pearls  are  lost  one  by  one.     But 
 without  morality  there  can  be  no  real  performance  of  religious  duty."* 
 
 And  thus  we  come  back  to  our  starting-point  :  Moral  excellence  is  the 
 essence  of  religion. 
 
 '  "  Orchot  Chayim,"  by  R.  Elieser  b.  Isaac 
 
 »  "  Kokeacli."  by  R.  Elasar,  of  Worms.  »  "  .Scpher  Chassidim." 
 
 *  All  the  foregoing  extracts  are  translated  from  Zunz  :  "Zur  Geschichte  und  Litcratur." 
 
JEWISH  ETHICS.  707- 
 
 That  Judaism  should  so  persistently  have  taught  this  grand  truth  becomes 
 all  the  more  remarkable  when  it  is  remembered  that  the  history  of  the  Jew 
 is  an  almost  unbroken  record  of  suffering.  The  world  seems  to  have  con- 
 spired to  thrust  him  back  by  relentless  persecution,  into  the  arms  of  formal- 
 ism, to  restrict  the  field  for  the  play  of  his  higher  instincts  to  the  external 
 rites  of  religion.  Shut  out  for  many  a  weary  century  from  intercourse  with 
 all  men  save  the  members  of  his  own  race,  imprisoned  in  Ghettos,  hunted 
 down,  hated,  and  reviled,  it  would  have  been  no  marvel  if  he  had  fixed 
 his  thoughts  exclusively  on  the  ceremonialism  of  the  "Scribes  and  the 
 Pharisees,"  if  he  had  shown  no  feeling  whatever  for  a  lofty  ethical  ideal, 
 nay,  if  he  had  nursed  in  his  heart  and  practised  in  his  life,  sentiments  of 
 positive  malevolence  towards  the  world  that  so  deeply  wronged  him. 
 Well,  indeed,  might  he  have  pleaded  human  nature  as  his  justification. 
 "Hath  not  a  Jew  eyes?  Hath,  not  a  Jew  hands,  organs,  dimensions, 
 senses,  affections,  passions  ?  Fed  with  the  same  food,  hurt  with  the  same 
 weapons,  subject  to  the  same  diseases,  healed  by  the  same  means,  warmed 
 and  cooled  by  the  same  winter  and  summer,  as  a  Christian  is?  If  you 
 prick  us,  do  we  not  bleed  ?-  If  you  tickle  us,  do  we  not  laugh  ?  If  you 
 poison  us,  do  we  not  die  ?■    And  if  you  wrong  us,  sliall  we  not  revenge  ?  "  ^' 
 
 But  Shylock  is  "  the  Jew  that  Shakespeare  drew."  He  is  not  the  j€w 
 of  real  life,  even  in  the  Middle  Ages,  stained  as  their  story  is-  with  the  hot 
 tears,  nay,  the  very  heart's  blood,  of  the  martyred  race..  The  medieval 
 Jew  did  not  take  vengeance  on  his  cruel  foes.  Nay,,  more  than  this,  with 
 a  sublime  nvignanimity  which  rivals  in  grandeur,  and  far  surpasses  in. 
 duration,  the  noble  patience  ascribed  to  Jesus  on  the  Cross,,  he  could 
 actually  preach  and  practise  the  widest  benievolence  towards  his  op- 
 pressors. Throughout  the  Middle  Ages,  when  Jews  were  daily  plundered 
 and  tortured  and  done  to  death  "  for  the  glory  of  God,"  not  a  word  was 
 breathed  against  the  morality  of  the  victims..  They  suffered  because  they 
 were  heretics,  because  they  would  not  juggle  with  their  conscience,  and 
 profess  a  belief  that  did  not  live  in  their  souls.  The  venerable  Dr.  D0I-. 
 linger,  a  critic  whose  fairness  is  beyond  cavil,  has  pointed  this  out.^  But 
 Jewish  ethics  soared  to  still  nobler  heights.  The  Jew  preserved  his  in^ 
 tegrity  in  spite  of  his  suffering ;  but  more  than  this,  he  forgave — ay,  even 
 blessed — its  authors.  The  Jews  hunted  out  of  Spain  in  1492,  were  in  turn 
 cruelly  expelled  from  Portugal.  Some  taok  refuge  on  the  African  coast. 
 Eighty  years  later  the  descendants  of  the  men  who  had  commi.tted  oe 
 allowed  these  enormities  were  defeated  in  Africa,  whither  they  liad  been 
 led  by  their  king,  Don  Sebastian.  Those  who  were  not  slain  were  offered 
 as  slaves  at  Fez  to  the  descendants  of  the  Jewish  exiles  from  Portugal. 
 "The  humbled  Portuguese  nobles,"  the  historian  narrates,  "  were  comforted 
 when  their  purchasers  proved  to  be  Jews,  for  they  knew  that  they  had 
 
 *  Shakespeare  :  Merchant  of  Venice,  act  iii.,  scene  I. 
 
 -  "The  Jews  in  Europe,"  an  Address  delivered  before  the  Academy  of  Sciences  in 
 Munich,  luly,  1881. 
 
7o8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 humane  hearts."  ^  It  is  in  such  incidents  that  the  climax  of  Jewish 
 morahty  is  reached.  If  the  hfelong  anguish  of  Israel  excites  the  most  pro- 
 found pity,  only  admiration  can  be  yielded  to  that  greatness  of  soul,  which 
 is  the  fairest  gem  in  his  crown  of  martyrdom. 
 
 '  Graetz  :  "Geschichte  der  Juden,"  vol.  viii.  p.  379. 
 
7Q9. 
 
 SPINOZA. 
 
 By  Sir  Frederick  Pollock. 
 
 Some  twelve  years  ago  I  was  concerned  in  a  movement  for  obtaining- 
 adherents  ia  this  country  towards  the  erection  of  a  monument  to  Benedict 
 Si)inoza  at  the  Hague,  where  he  spent  the  latter  years  of  his  life ;  and  1 
 received  a  good  many  interesting  letters  on  that  occasion  from  various 
 persons.  One  of  the  shortest,  and  also  one  of  the  most  interesting,  was 
 from  a  great  man  of  letters  whom  tiiis  country  has  lately  lost,  Matthew 
 Arnold.  "  After  all,"  he  said,  "  it  seems  rather  absurd  to  treat  Benedict 
 Spinoza  as  an  eminent  Dutchman  ;  the  right  thing  to  do  would  be  to 
 build  him  a  statue  and  altar  at  the  top  of  Pisgah,  and  to  sacrifice  on  it 
 
 seven   bullocks  like   Louis  Veuillot  and  seven  rams  like ."     I  must 
 
 not  say  to  whom  the  seven  rams  were  likened,  for  the  name  was  that  of 
 a  dignitary  of  the  Church  of  England  still  living. 
 
 There  is  another  modern   testimony  I  should  like  to  cite,  as  showing 
 
 '   that  Spinoza  was  by  no  means  merely  an  eminent  systematic  philosopher. 
 
 It  is   the  testimony  of  Flaubert,  one  of  the  greatest   of  recent   French 
 
 writers.     Flaubert,  writing  in  1872  to  Georges  Sand,  tells. her  what  he  had 
 
 been  doing  lately,  and  he  says,  amongst  other  things  : 
 
 "  I  shall  get  back  to  work  on  my  "St.  Anthony"  in  a  week's  time,  when 
 I  have  done  with  Kant  and  Hegel,  two  great  men  who  make  me  feel 
 stupid.  When  I  take  leave  of  them  I  fall  to,  like  one  famished,  on  my 
 old  Spinoza,  who  is  worth  them  all.  What  genius  !  What  a.  piece  of 
 work  is  his  KtJiics  ! " 
 
 This  is  useful  for  two  purposes- :  to  show  that  Flaubert  was  not  merely 
 a  frivolous  Fi-ench  novelist ;  and  that  in  modern  France  the  best  people 
 do  not  find  Spinoza  by  any  means  obsolete. 
 
 It  would  be  altogether  out  of  place  to  enter  here  at  length  on  the  facts 
 of  Spinoza's  life,  but  it  may  -be  well  to  remind  you  very  shortly  of  what 
 was  his  origin,  and  where  and  how  he  lived.  Spinoza  belonged  to  a 
 family  of  Spanish  ^  Jews,  one  of  the  many  families  driven  into  exile  by 
 the  revival  of  persecution  against  the  Jews  which  took  place  in  the  Spanish 
 Peninsula  towards  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century.  It  is  a  matter  of 
 general  history  how  the  Spaniards,  having  attained  a  very  great  place  in 
 the  world,  set  themselves  systematically  to  lose  it  by  driving  out  of  the 
 gountry  nearly  all  the  best  elements  within  it.     Not  content  with  haying. 
 
 *■  See  Dr.  Martineau's  Study  of  Spinoza,  chap.  i.. 
 
^ro  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE   WORLD. 
 
 reconquered   the  part  of  Spain  which   had   been  occupied  by  the  Arabs, 
 they  expelled  first  the  Arabs  and  then  the  Jews,  and  having  reduced  Spain 
 to  an  admirable  standard  of  orthodoxy,  they  proceeded  to  make  Spain 
 what  she  is   now,  a  third-rate  power,  with  no  literature  to  speak  of,  and 
 with  absolutely  no  influence  on   European  thought.     So  Spain  ultimately 
 had  her  reward.     The  immediate  effect  was  that  a  considerable  number  of 
 Spanish  and  Portuguese  Jews  migrated  to  the  Netherlands— at  that  time 
 the   only  country  in   Europe  where  free  thought  could  be  said  really  to 
 exist,  or  where  a  colony  of  Jews  could  hope  to  settle  with  tolerable  free- 
 dom from  disturbance.     Even  there  it  was  an  experiment.     However,  the 
 experiment  succeeded.     The  Israelite  colony  soon  attracted  more  settlers 
 when  it  was  found  that  they  were  sure  of  an  asylum.     They  became  pros- 
 perous, and  you  may  see  amongst  the  Rembrandts  in  the  National  Gallery 
 his  a  Imirable  portraits  of  some  of  the  great  Jewish  merchants  of  his  own 
 time.     In  one  of  these  Jewish  families  of  Auisterdam  Spinoza  was  born 
 in  the  winter  of  1632.     At  a  very  early  age  he  became  learned  in  the  law 
 ■of  his  people,  and  in  the  theology  of  the  Rabbis,  and  showed  symptoms 
 •of  beginning  to  think  for  himself     The  stories  that  are  told  of  this  part 
 of  his  life  are  very  fragmentary,  and  not  altogether  consistent,  and  we  are 
 'left  a  great  deal  to  conjecture  as  to  what  really  took  place.     Something  he 
 certainly  did,  perhaps  in  the  way  of  trying  to  form  a  circle  of  young  men 
 'like-minded  with  himself,  which  caused  the  authorities  of  the  synagogue 
 'to  treat  him  as  a  dangerous  person.     It  was  not  merely  a  matter  of  specu- 
 lative orthodoxy  ;  the  Jewish  synagogue  existed  wholly  on  sufferance  in 
 Amsterdam.     The  leaders  of  the  synagogue  evidently  thought  that  they 
 were  tolerated  only  on  condition  of  being  as  orthodox  as  it  was  possible 
 ■for  Jews  to  be,  and  that  if  any  sort  of  heterodoxy  were  suffered  amongst 
 them  they  might  lose  the  sufferance  on  which  they  had  so  far  counted. 
 As  men  of  business,  they  may  well  have  thought  rightly  enough.     The 
 result  was  that  Spinoza  received  strong  hints  to  keep  his  opinions  to  him- 
 self.    It  seems  he  even  received  offers   of  substantial  reward  on  those 
 'terms.     But  he  was  found  inflexible,  and  at  length  was  solemnly  excom- 
 municated.    This  was  in  1650,  when  he  was  not  quite  twenty-four  years 
 •of  age. 
 
 He  took  the  excommunication  as  a  natural  and  inevitable  consequence 
 of  his  resolution,  and  having  been  in  this  way  shut  out  from  obtaining,  as 
 he  easily  might  have  done,  a  position  of  prosperity  and  honour  among 
 his  own  people,  he  betook  himself  to  making  a  living  by  grinding  glasses 
 for  optical  instruments.  His  work,  it  ai)pears,  was  of  special  excellence. 
 In  the  year  1670  he  removed  to  the  Hague,  where  he  completed  his 
 il)rincipal  works  ;  his  greatest  work,  the  Ethics,  was  in  hand,  as  we  know 
 from  his  letters,  during  the  greater  part  of  his  active  life,  but  was  printed 
 only  after  his  death. 
 
 In  1O63  he  had  a  tempting  offer  of  the  Chair  of  Philosophy  at  Heidel- 
 •berg,   and  the  conditions  were  such  as  appeared  to  give  him  great  liberty 
 
SPINOZA.  711 
 
 to  say  whatever  he  pleased ;  but  there  was  a  saving  clause  to  the  effect  of 
 not  teaching  anything  contrary  to  the  established  religion,  and  Spinoza, 
 although  he  was  a  poor  man,  preferred  philosophizing  in  his  own  way  to 
 holding  a  chair  of  philosophy  even  under  the  most  honourable  conditiuns 
 with  any  such  obligation  attached  to  it.  Therefore  he  declined  the 
 Elector's  offer  in  a  very  courteous  letter,  but  with  unmistakable  decision. 
 
 He  was  not  only  a  poor  man,  but  a  weakly  man ;  he  was  of  consump- 
 tive habit,  and  died  at  the  age,  which  may  be  called  early  for  a  philosopher, 
 of  forty-four,  in  the  year  1677.  The  event  excited  very  little  notice  at 
 the  time,  but  his  posthumous  works,  published  shortly  afterwards,  raised 
 a  storm  of  controversy  which  gave  the  first  indication  of  his  coming 
 renown. 
 
 Spinoza  had,  to  some  extent,  special  relations  with  this  country  through 
 his  friend  Oldenburg,  a  learned  German  who  migrated  to  England,  and 
 was  the  first  Secretary  to  the  Royal  Society.  Many  of  Spinoza's  most 
 interesting  letters  were  written  to  Oldenburg,  and  the  originals  of  some 
 of  them  are  preserved  in  the  Royal  Society's  library.  But  tiiere  is  no 
 evidence  that  English  philosophers  had  any  notion  of  Spinoza's  import- 
 ance either  in  his  lifetime  or  for  a  considerable  time  afterwards. 
 
 I  have  mentioned  that  Spinoza  was  cast  out  of  the  synagogue  with  all 
 solemn  forms,  and  it  is  well  known  that  he  never  joined  any  other 
 religious  body.  He  was  outside  all  forms  of  religious  bodies  existing  in  the 
 Netherlands,  and  although  he  made  no  attempt  to  dissuade  any  one  from  a 
 belief  which  satisfied  him,  he  certainly  had  no  attachment  of  his  own  to 
 any  recognised  creed.  It  seems,  therefore,  a  curious  thing  that  a  perfectly 
 solitary  and  independent  philosopher,  living  as  Spinoza  did,  should  count 
 among  the  people  who  have  had  a  decided  influence  on  the  religion  of 
 modern  Europe ;  yet  such  is  the  fact,  and  it  is  a  fact  that  sets  one  thinking 
 in  many  ways.  Such  a  thing  could  not  have  happened  in  the  case  of  any 
 Asiatic  religion.  For  example,  one  cannot  iuiagine  a  Mahometan,  or  a 
 Buddhist,  being  seriously  influenced  by  a  holy  man  who  did  not  belong  to 
 his  own  religion,  or  to  any  other  religion  in  particular,  and  who  wholly 
 declined  to  be  bound  by  Mahometan  or  Buddhist  formulas.  Still  less 
 can  we  imagine  Spinoza's  own  people  admitting  anything  of  the  kind  to 
 be  possible  among  them.  I  think  it  is  only  in  Christendom — and  in 
 Western  Christendom^that  such  a  thing  could  be  even  fairly  probable. 
 
 Let  us  consider  for  a  moment  what  this  means.  It  means  that  Christi- 
 anity, at  all  events  Western  Christianity,  differs  from  the  other  great 
 religions  in  the  world  in  having  a  certain  expansive  and  elastic  quality. 
 By  this  quality  it  is  constantly  taking  up  new  elements  into  itself,  and  if 
 not  transforming,  yet  seriously  modifying  in  effect,  its  earlier  dogmas  and 
 the  practical  conclusions  drawn  from  them.  How  Christianity  comes  to 
 have  this  expansive  quality,  which  I  think  it  clearly  has,  is  a  very  curious 
 historical  question.  A  still  more  curious  question,  perhaps,  is  how  Christ- 
 ianity did  become  the  religion  of  imperial  Rome  at  all ;  how  it  made  its 
 
712  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 great  leap  in  the  hands  of  St.  Paul  from  the  Eastern  to  the  Western  world. 
 When  Christianity  had  once  begun  to  take  up  the  elements  of  Greek 
 thought,  then  it  becomes  less  surprising  that  the  expansive  and  elastic 
 quality  of  the  old  Greek  philosophy  should  have  continued  to  manifest 
 itself  under  the  new  form.  When  we  think  of  the  history  of  the  early 
 Church,  we  are  sometimes  apt  to  forget  how  many  things  it  saved.  It 
 may  not  have  saved  them  in  the  exact  fashion  in  which  we  should  have 
 liked  to  have  them,  but  in  what  we  call  the  dark  ages  the  question  was 
 whether  the  remembrance  of  Greek  and  Roman  civilization  should  be 
 saved  at  all.  Some  thinkers  have  held  that  Christianity  was  an  agent  in 
 destroying  the  Roman  empire,  but  it  seems  to  me  to  have  been  rather  the 
 other  way.  The  Roman  empire  was  effete,  and  was  already  in  a  course 
 of  breaking  up ;  and  the  Church  of  Rome,  being  the  strongest  thing  that 
 was  left  in  the  world,  took  to  itself  such  fragments  of  the  ancient  Roman 
 civilization  and  of  the  ancient  Greek  thought  as  it  could  assimilate  con- 
 sistently with  its  own  fundamental  ideas.  It  is,  perhaps,  too  little  to  say 
 fr'agments  of  Roman  civilization,  for  the  order  and  discipline  of  the 
 Roman  Church  have  preserved  to  this  day  a  great  deal  of  the  old  order 
 of  the  Roman  Empire.  Hobbes's  epigram  on  the  papacy,  itself  imperial 
 among  epigrams,  contains  much  of  the  truth  of  the  matter.  It  is  "the 
 ghost  of  the  Roman  Empire,  sitting  crowned  on  the  grave  thereof." 
 
 We  also  have  to  remember  that  Rome  had  taken  up  (more  or  less  im- 
 perfectly, but  still  it  had  taken  up)  the  enlightening  influences  of  Greek 
 thought.  And  the  expansiveness  of  modern  Western  Christianity  is 
 perhaps  due  to  the  Greek  spirit  which  was  first  absorbed  by  Roman 
 civilization  and  institutions,  and  then  taken  up  into  the  framework  of  the 
 Church,  amid  the  general  ruin  wrought  by  the  barbarian  concjuests.  This 
 process,  I  need  hardly  say,  has  gone  much  farther  than  most  official 
 expounders  of  Christian  doctrine  are  at  liberty  to  admit.  As  my  friend 
 and  master,  Sir  Henry  Maine,  once  said  :  "  Except  the  blind  forces  of 
 Nature,  nothing  moves  in  this  world  that  is  not  Greek  in  its  origin,"  and 
 to  this  Greek  origin,  I  think,  we  may  fairly  refer  the  vitality  of  Western 
 Christianity,  which  has  prevented  it  from  standing  still,  and  has  enabled 
 it  to  take  up  such  new  influences  as  that  of  Spinoza. 
 
 We  have  to  consider  then  in  what  way  Spinoza  can  be  said  to  have 
 influenced  modern  religious  ideas.  In  the  first  place  we  have  the  example 
 of  his  life,  which  was  almost  a  singular  one  among  modern  philosophers. 
 Secondly,  we  have  the  actual  contribution  made  by  Spinoza  to  the  dog- 
 matic and  historical  criticism  of  the  documents  on  which  the  Christian 
 religion  is  externally  based.  Lastly  (and  tliis  is,  after  all,  much  the  most 
 important),  we  have  the  general  spirit  and  temj^er  of  Spinoza's  philosophy 
 as  to  the  relations  of  man  to  the  universe  he  lives  in. 
 
 In  the  first  place,  as  to  Spinoza's  life,  it  was  one  of  the  most  blameless 
 lives  ever  led  by  a  philosopher.  That  alone  does  not  prove  his  philosophy 
 to  be  true ;  we  can  hardly  say  that  it  even  tends  to  prove  its  truth.     It 
 
SPINOZA.  713 
 
 tends  only  to  prove  the  sincerity  with  which  the  man's  beh'efs,  whether 
 more  or  less  right  in  themselves,  were  formed  and  held.  But  the  practical 
 effect  of  such  a  character  as  Spinoza's  is  very  great.  It  has  secured  a  fair 
 hearing  for  his  philosophy  in  (juarters  where  otherwise  there  would  have 
 been,  and  indeed  there  was,  much  prejudice  against  it.  Spinoza's  philo- 
 sophy, and  the  form  in  which  he  put  it,  were  altogether  distasteful  to 
 everything  orthodox.  Even  when  Spinoza  meant  to  be  conciliatory,  there 
 was  something  about  his  uncompromising  way  of  stating  his  results  which 
 gave  peculiar  offence  to  orthodox  theologians  of  all  sects  and  denomina- 
 tions. IJut  Si)inoza's  life  was  such  that  even  his  enemies  could  fmd 
 nothing  to  say  against  it ;  for  we  need  not  count  a  few  idle  tales  which 
 were  in  circulation  only  for  a  short  time,  and  are  now  deservedly  forgotten 
 except  by  minute  investigators  of  Spinoza's  biography. 
 
 The  principal  authority  for  Spinoza's  life  is  a  little  book  written  by  a 
 Lutheran  minister  at  the  Hague, — a  good  man,  who  from  his  soul  detested 
 Spinoza's  doctrines,  but  who  also  was  a  kindly  and  veracious  sort  of  man, 
 and  who  took  some  trouble  to  ascertain  the  facts  as  they  really  were.  He 
 evidently  took  great  interest  in  Spinoza's  character,  notwithstanding  the 
 wicked  and  abominable  nature  of  his  writings,  and  was  at  some  pains  to 
 refute  the  calumnies  which  were  being  spread  about  Spinoza  some  few 
 years  after  his  death.  Now  he  tells  us  about  Spinoza's  life  that  it  was  of 
 the  most  quiet  and  peaceable  kind.  He  was  of  a  very  even  temper  ;  no- 
 body ever  saw  him  either  very  sad  or  very  merry.  (One  could  hardly 
 expect  high  animal  spirits  of  a  man  in  Spinoza's  state  of  health.)  He 
 was  always  courteous  and  civil,  considerate  to  the  people  of  the  house, 
 especially  when  any  of  them  were  ill.  He  used  to  talk  to  the  children  of 
 the  house,  and  told  them  to  mind  what  their  elders  said,  and  not  to  forget 
 to  go  to  church.  When  they  came  back  from  the  congregation,  he  would 
 ask  them  what  they  had  heard  from  the  preacher.     "In  particular,"  says 
 
 this   good   minister,    Colerus,   "  my  predecessor.  Dr.   C. ,  of  blessed 
 
 memory,  being  a  really  learned  man,  was  much  honoured  by  Spinoza." 
 Indeed,  he  sometimes  went  to  hear  him  himself,  praised  his  learned 
 exposition  of  Scripture,  and  the  appropriate  applications ;  and  he  advised 
 the  landlord  and  his  fellow-lodgers  by  no  means  to  miss  his  sermons. 
 Once  he  was  asked  by  the  landlady  whether,  in  his  opinion,  "  she  might 
 be  saved  by  her  religion."  It  was  a  curious  thing  for  a  good  Protestant 
 to  ask  an  excommunicated  Jew,  but  it  shows  the  sort  of  personal  mi- 
 pression  that  Spinoza  had  made  on  those  he  lived  with.  He  answered 
 her  thus  :  "  Your  religion  is  very  well ;  you  have  no  need  to  seek  another 
 for  your  salvation  so  long  as  you  hold  yourself  to  a  peaceable  and  pious 
 life."  Spinoza  was  much  too  sensible  a  man  to  interfere  with  simple  folk 
 who  were  not  capable  of  understanding  his  philosophy,  and  who  were 
 content  in  their  own  way  of  life  ;  I  do  not  think  he  had  much  sympathy 
 with  the  sort  of  people  who  not  only  must  have  formulas,  but  must  be 
 always  tinkering  them.     In  short  the  good  Lutheran  minister's  biography 
 
714  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 IS  a  constant  panegyric  of  Spinoza's  character,  intermixed  with  violent 
 denunciations  of  his  writings,  and  praises  of  the  many  worthy  persons  who 
 refuted  them.  Those  worthy  persons  are  not  much  read  at  this  day.  I 
 have  tried  to  read  some  of  them,  but  I  cannot  say  I  have  thoroughly 
 succeeded. 
 
 So  much  as  to  Spinoza's  life.  In  recent  times  I  think  no  one  of  any 
 account  has  spoken  of  Spinoza's  personal  character  s^ve  with  respect  and 
 even  reverence.  I  may  instance  amongst  others  Heine,  the  greatest 
 Hebrew  since  Spinoza,  one  of  the  greatest  of  modern  writers,  and  also  one 
 of  the  least  reverent.  But  Heine,  when  he  came  to  speak  of  Spinoza, 
 said  his  life  was  only  to  be  compared  to  that  of  his  great  predecessor, 
 Jesus  Christ. 
 
 Now  we  come  to  Spinoza's  contributions  to  the  criticism  of  Scripture. 
 The  work  in  which  these  are  contained  is  the  Theolugico-Political  Treatise. 
 I  will  give  you  the  title  of  it  from  an  old  English  translation  which  was 
 published  as  early  as  1689.  It  is  called  "  A  Treatise  partly  theological 
 and  partly  political,  containing  some  it'fi  discourses  to  prove  that  the 
 Liberty  of  Philosophizing  (that  is,  making  use  of  Natural  Reason)  may 
 be  allowed  without  any  prejudice  to  piety,  or  to  the  peace  of  any 
 Commonwealth,  and  that  the  loss  of  public  peace  and  religion  itself  must 
 necessarily  follow  where  such  a  liberty  of  reasoning  is  taken  away."  It 
 was  already  much  to  publish  such  a  title-page  in  the  year  1670,  in  a  com- 
 munity that  professed  to  hold  the  orthodox  principles  of  Calvinism. 
 Further,  this  Theologico- Political  Treatise  has  two  striking  characters.  It 
 was  the  first,  or  almost  the  first,  comprehensive  plea  for  toleration  pub-' 
 lished  in  modern  Europe.  In  that  respect,  no  doubt,  it  only  took  up  the 
 work  of  those  whom  we  call  Humanists, — the  great  scholars  of  the  six- 
 teenth century,  who  spread  abroad  the  study  of  Greek,  and  the  intelligent 
 study  of  antiquity  in  general,  and  whose  work  was  sadly  interrupted  by 
 the  Reformation.  We  may  all  think  what  we  please  about  the  Reforma- 
 tion, but  for  my  own  part  I  am  apt  to  think  that  the  way  in  which  it 
 happened  was  a  misfortune  for  European  civilization.  At  all  events  the 
 century  succeeding  the  Reformation  was  occupied  with  religious  wars  and 
 controversies,  and  the  genial  learning  of  a  Humanist  like  P>asmus  could 
 hardly  find  place  for  a  time.  To  a  certain  extent  Spinoza  may  be  said,  in 
 the  Theologico- Political  Treatise^  to  take  up  the  burden  of  Erasmus  and  his 
 fellows.  In  the  second  place,  this  book  was  the  great  forerunner  of 
 modern  Biblical  criticism.  For  the  first  time  the  learned  world  had  forced 
 upon  it  a  work  by  a  writer  who  professed  to  take  Scripture  as  its  own 
 witness,  and  from  the  witness  of  Scripture  alone  showed  that,  if  construed 
 rationally,  it  would  not  bear  the  sense  required  by  the  ordinary  advocates 
 of  the  Church.  Spinoza  sets  out  to  argue  with  the  orthodox  ujiholders 
 of  Scripture  on  their  own  premises.  He  does  not  criticise  the  Scriptures 
 from  external  history  or  philosophy.  He  says,  in  effect:  "I  will  not 
 argue  with  you  on  philosophical  grounds  ;  I  take  the  Scriptures,  and  show 
 
SPINOZA.  715 
 
 from  the  Scriptures  themselves  that  your  way  of  interpreting  them  is 
 absurd,  and  that  your  condusion  about  the  duty  of  believing  the  letter 
 of  the  Scripture  are  absolutely  inconsistent  with  Scripture  itself."  But  in 
 the  course  of  doing  that,  Spinoza  was  led  to  the  most  remarkable  antici- 
 pations of  a  great  deal  of  what  we  now  call  modern  criticism.  For 
 example,  Spinoza  points  out  (as  indeed  certain  learned  Jews  had  earlier 
 pointed  out,  but  with  designed  obscurity),  that  we  cannot  imagine  Moses 
 sitting  down  to  write  the  account  of  his  own  death  which  is  contained  in 
 the  so-called  Books  of  Moses ;  and,  in  like  manner,  that  a  man  who 
 wrote  "  the  Canaanite  was  then  in  the  land,"  must  have  been  writing  at  a 
 time  long  after  the  Jews  had  occupied  Canaan.  This,  and  other  such 
 matters,  are  now  regarded  as  the  elements  of  intelligent  criticism  of  the 
 Scripture  narrative,  but  two  hundred  years  ago  they  were  exceedingly 
 bold  things  for  anybody  to  print  and  publish.  Probably  it  was  for  such 
 opinions  as  these  that  Spinoza  was  put  out  of  the  synagogue.  As  regards 
 the  influence  of  the  Tractatus  Theoloi^ico-Folificus  in  this  country  in  parti- 
 cular, it  was  translated  as  early  as  1689.  Some  years  earlier  the  chapter 
 about  miracles  was  taken  out  of  the  book  and  printed  by  itself,  but  with- 
 out any  acknowledgment  of  its  authorship,  and  in  a  sort  of  fragmentary 
 way.  And  at  various  times  in  the  eighteenth  century  Freethinkers  and 
 Deists  drew  a  great  deal  on  the  Tractatus  Theologico-Politkiis  for  argu- 
 ments against  the  more  orthodox  divines. 
 
 To  sum  up  the  main  points  of  this  treatise  :  it  gives  us,  for  one  thing, 
 the  rational  treatment  of  what  is  called  the  insj^iration  of  Scripture.  As 
 Spinoza  points  out  in  a  sufficiently  clear  and  uncompromising  way,  we 
 must  read  the  Bible  as  a  book  written  by  men,  who  were  writing  for  men, 
 and  who  were  not  free  from  prejudices  of  their  readers.  Then  there  is 
 the  chapter  on  miracles,  which  I  have  just  mentioned,  where  Spinoza 
 demolishes  the  vulgar  idea  of  miracles  as  conclusively  as  Hume  did  after 
 him,  and  I  think  in  a  larger  spirit  and  with  more  permanent  results. 
 Spinoza  points  out  that — 
 
 "  the  vulgar  notion  is  that  God's  power  and  providence  do  most  plainly 
 appear  when  they  see  anything  strange  and  unusual  happen  in  Nature, 
 contrary  to  the  customary  notions  they  have  of  Nature,  especially  when 
 that  which  happens  is  for  their  benefit  and  advantage.  So  that  they  con- 
 clude that  those  men  deny  the  being  and  providence  of  God  who 
 endeavour  to  explain  and  understand  what  they  call  miracles  by  their 
 natural  causes.  They,  indeed,  think  that  while  Nature  goes  on  in  her 
 wonted  course  God  doth  nothing,  and  on  the  contrary,  when  God  acts, 
 the  power  of  Nature  and  natural  causes  are  idle  and  at  a  stand ;  so  that 
 they  imagine  the  power  of  God  and  the  power  of  Nature  to  be  two  dis- 
 tinct and  almost  opposite  things,  neither  do  they  think  the  power  of  God 
 at  any  time  so  wonderful  as  when,  according  to  their  fancy,  it  conquers 
 and  subdues  the  power  of  Nature." 
 
7i6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 He  then  proceeds  to  show,  on  the  contrary,  that  nothing  can  really 
 happen  contrary  to  Nature,  and  to  explain  his  own  position,  that  we  can- 
 not know  the  existence,  nor  consequently  the  providence  of  God,  by 
 miracles,  but  they  more  manifestly  appear  in  the  constant  and  unchange- 
 able order  of  Nature.  He  goes  on  to  show  in  detail  how  the  passages  of 
 Scripture  relied  on  for  the  current  view  of  miracles  are  more  intelligible 
 when  explained  as  examples  of  common  Oriental  rhetoric,  or  in  other 
 non-miraculous  ways.  In  most  of  these  cases  Spinoza  is  perfectly  right  \ 
 in  some  few  he  draws  inferences  which  modern  scholarship  would  hardly 
 recognise.  You  must  remember  that  he  sets  out  with  admitting  the 
 authority  of  Scripture  in  some  sense,  so  that  he  is  sometimes  driven  to 
 forced  interpretations.     I  will  quote  the  summing  up  of  his  position  : 
 
 "When  the  Scripture  saith,  that  for  the  sins  of  men  the  earth  is  barren, 
 or  that  blind  men  are  recovered  to  sight  by  faith,  it  signifies  no  more  than 
 do  those  other  sayings,  that  God  is  angry,  or  grieved  with  our  sins,  that 
 He  repents  of  the  good  He  hath  done,  or  intended,  and  that  God  by 
 seeing  a  sign  called  to  mind  His  promise :  all  which  expressions  are  spoken 
 poetically,  or  according  to  the  opinion  and  prejudice  of  the  writer.  So 
 that  we  absolutely  conclude  that  all  things  which  Scripture  relates  to  have 
 happened,  did  happen,  as  all  things  do,  according  to  the  laws  of  Nature  ; 
 and  if  in  Scripture  there  be  anything  recorded  which  by  plain  and 
 evident  demonstration  can  be  proved  to  be  repugnant  to  the  laws  of 
 Nature,  or  impossible  to  follow  from  them,  we  ought  to  believe  it  was 
 inserted  by  sacrilegious  men,  for  whatever  is  against  Nature  is  against 
 Reason,  and  whatever  is  against  Reason  ought  to  be  rejected  as  absurd." 
 
 Spinoza  holds,  in  short,  that  God's  works  are  not  something  contrary  to 
 Nature,  but  are  the  order  of  Nature  itself. 
 
 Another  point  considered  in  the  Theologico- Political  Treatise  is  the 
 relation  of  the  fundamental  and  practical  portion  of  religion,  as  a  guide 
 for  the  conduct  of  life,  to  matters  of  sjieculative  opinion.  Here,  again, 
 Spinoza  is  very  j^lain-spoken.  He  says  that  the  root  of  the  matter  is  not 
 in  correct  opinions,  but  in  obedience  to  the  moral  law.  There  are  two 
 chapters  of  this  book,  the  13th  and  14th,  in  which  Spinoza's  position  as 
 to  the  relation  of  faith  to  philosophy  is  worked  out.  Spinoza's  point  is 
 that  faith,  as  he  calls  it — that  is,  the  essentials  of  practical  religion— is  a 
 very  simple  thing,  and  does  not  require  any  particular  speculative  opinions 
 at  all.  He  says  that  "  it  follows,  even  from  the  words  of  Scripture,  that 
 they  are  anti-Christs  who  persecute  the  opinions  of  just  men  who  differ 
 from  them  in  opinion,  and  do  not  maintain  their  doctrines.  They  that 
 love  justice  and  charity  are  thereby  only  found  to  be  believers,  and  who- 
 ever persecutes  such  believers  is  anti-Christ.  Lastly,  it  follows  that  faith 
 does  not  require  opinions  that  are  in  themselves  true,  but  such  only  as 
 shall  best  incline  a  man's  heart  to  obedience."     SjMUOza  does  not  mean 
 
 \ 
 
SPINOZA.  717 
 
 that  it  is  absolutely  indifferent  to  a  man's  salvation  what  he  thinks,  but 
 only  that  it  does  not  concern  the  civil  power  what  his  opinions  are,  so 
 long  as  they  are  not  opinions  which  manifestly  lead  to  a  dangerous  or 
 immoral  life.  And  then  he  goes  on  to  enumerate  those  doctrines  of 
 universal  faith,  as  he  calls  them,  which  are  the  most  that  can  be  reason- 
 ably regarded  as  necessary  in  a  well-ordered  commonwealth,  viz.  : 
 
 "  That  there  is  a  God,  or  Supreme  Being,  who  is  most  just  and  merciful, 
 by  whose  example  every  man  ought  to  regulate  his  life  ;  secondly,  that 
 this  God  is  One,  which  opinion  is  absolutely  necessary  to  make  a  man 
 adore,  admire,  and  love  God — for  devotion,  admiration,  and  love,  are 
 caused  by  that  excellency  which  is  in  one  above  all  others  ;  thirdly,  that 
 He  is  everywhere  present,  or  that  all  tilings  are  known  to  Him,  for  if 
 anything  were  hidden  from  Him,  or  if  men  did  not  think  that  He  seeth 
 all  things,  we  might  doubt  of  His  equity  and  justice,  whereby  He 
 governeth  all  things  ;  fourthly,  that  He  hath  supreme  power  and  dominion 
 over  all  things,  that  He  doth  nothing  by  compulsion,  but  of  His  own 
 goodwill  and  pleasure  \  fifthly,  that  the  worship  of  God,  and  obedience 
 to  Him,  consists  only  in  justice  and  charity  towards  our  neighbours; 
 sixthly,  that  only  they  who  obey  God  by  such  a  course  of  life  will  be 
 saved  ;  and  others,  who  are  slaves  to  their  lusts  and  pleasures,  will  be 
 condemned ;  lastly,  that  God  pardoneth  the  sins  of  those  that  repent, 
 because  there  is  no  man  living  without  sin ;  therefore,  if  this  were  not  an 
 article  of  faith,  all  would  despair  of  salvation." 
 
 You  must  not  suppose  that  these  positions  are  statements  of  Spinoza's 
 own  philosophy,  at  any  rate  in  his  own  way  ;  they  are  such  as  indeed 
 Spinoza  might  adopt,  but  after  an  explanation  of  the  terms  which  would 
 bring  out  a  result  very  different  from  any  form  of  popular  religion. 
 Spinoza  is  considering  the  precepts  of  religion  from  the  practical  point  of 
 view  of  the  statesman,  as  guarantees  of  civil  order.  In  the  last  chapter  of 
 the  treatise  he  points  out,  rising  almost  to  eloquence,  although  writing  in 
 an  artificial  language,  that  the  liberty  of  honest  opinion  is  not  a  danger  to 
 the  commonwealth,  but  is  rather  a  safeguard.  One  passage  which  is  often 
 quoted  evidently  had  reference  to  the  religious  wars  which  had  lately  been 
 going  on  : 
 
 "  Can  anything  be  more  pernicious  than  to  treat  persons  of  a  free, 
 ingenuous  disposition  as  enemies,  and  for  no  crime  or  wickedness  put 
 them  to  death,  making  the  scaffold,  which  frights  none  but  villains,  a 
 public  theatre,  whereon  such  innocent  persons  give  such  examples  of 
 courage  and  patience,  as  turn  to  the  shame  and  reproach  of  the  supreme 
 magistrate's  majesty  ?  " 
 
 Again  : — 
 
 "  Schisms  proceed  not  from  the  study  of  truth,  that  fountain  of  meek- 
 
7i8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 ness  and  moderation,  but  from  an  imperious  humour  of  prescribing  to 
 others  ;  and  therefore  they  are  rather  to  be  accounted  schismatics  who 
 damn  other  men's  writings,  and  stir  up  the  waspish  multitude  against  them, 
 than  those  that  write  to  learned  men,  and  call  nothing  but  reason  to  their 
 aid  ;  for  they  are  truly  disturbers  of  public  peace  who  in  a  free  common- 
 wealth would  take  away  the  liberty  of  men's  judgment,  which  ought  not 
 to  be  suppressed." 
 
 And  he  sums  up  by  saying  that  a  Commonwealth's  greatest  safety  is  to 
 place  religion  and  piety  in  the  practice  of  justice  and  charity,  and  to  make 
 things  sacred  as  much  subject  to  the  Supreme  Power  as  things  civil,  and 
 to  take  cognizance  of  nothing  but  men's  actions,  suffering  every  man  to 
 think  what  he  will,  and  speak  what  he  thinks. 
 
 The  treatise  had  no  apparent  practical  effect  at  the  time,  but  it  was 
 largely  read.  It  appeared  in  various  issues  with  false  title-pages  and  other 
 precautions  against  the  printers  being  prosecuted,  and  within  a  short  time 
 it  was  also  circulated  in  translations. 
 
 I  have  already  mentioned  that  during  the  eighteenth  century  it  was  a 
 sort  of  arsenal  for  Freethinkers,  although  the  value  of  the  principal  part  of 
 Spinoza's  philosophy  was  certainly  not  recognized  by  those  who  thus  used 
 it. 
 
 But  we  must  come  to  the  real  centre  of  Spinoza's  philosophy  to  find 
 that  which,  after  all,  has  given  vitality  to  his  work.  A  man  does  not  live 
 as  a  great  philosopher  merely  by  happy  anticipations  of  modern  historical 
 criticism,  nor  even  by  showing  a  more  enlightened  view  of  the  relation  of 
 Church  and  State  than  was  common  in  his  time.  When  Spinoza  deals 
 with  philosophy  for  its  own  sake,  he  distinguishes  the  precepts  which  are 
 needful  for  the  outward  conduct  of  life,  from  the  inner  wisdom  by  which 
 a  man  attains  hnpi)incss  for  himself.  A  man  may  be  a  very  good  citizen 
 without  being  at  all  happy,  or  at  peace  in  his  own  mind.  Still  more  may 
 he  be  a  good  citizen  without  being  a  philosopher,  or  even  without  having 
 given  any  serious  thought  to  the  ultimate  problems  of  the  world.  Now 
 Spinoza  points  out  emphatically  that  spiritual  happiness  does  not  consist 
 in  obeying  any  rules  whatever,  even  the  best  jf  rules  ;  not  that  rules  are 
 not  good  and  necessary,  but  happiness  will  not  come  by  obedience  alone. 
 In  this  he  agrees,  I  think,  with  the  great  moralist  of  all  persuasions. 
 
 He  started  as  many  philosophers  have  done,  and  as  the  founders  of  the 
 great  Asiatic  religions  have  done,  from  the  futility  of  the  common  objects 
 of  human  ambition  and  desire.  These  may  be  satisfied,  but  after  tiiey  are 
 satisfied,  if  a  man  gives  himself  time  to  think,  he  finds,  as  tiie  Preacher 
 did  long  ago,  that  all  is  vanity.  Deliverance  from  vanity  is  the  object  of 
 Spinoza's  philosophy  as  much  as  it  had  been  the  object  of  the  great 
 religions  of  the  world.  Spinoza's  way,  however,  is  absolutely  opposed  to 
 the  Eastern  way,  which  is  still  nominally  supreme,  I  suppose,  over  a 
 majority  of  the  human  beings   who  have  attained   the  stage  of  thinking 
 
SPINOZA.  719 
 
 seriously  at  all.  The  Eastern  way  is  to  say  that  not  only  the  common 
 objects  of  desire,  regarded  as  an  end  in  themselves,  are  vanity,  but  that 
 all  finite  life  is  vanity  ;  the  world  is  a  bad  thing  ;  life  is  a  bad  thing ;  let 
 us  escape  from  it  altogether  and  be  delivered.  Such  is  the  avowed  object 
 of  the  great  Asiatic  religions,  with  the  one  exception  of  the  religion  of 
 the  Jews.  The  Jewish  point  of  view,  which  is,  of  course,  what  Spinoza 
 had  to  work  u[)on,  is,  on  the  contrary,  that  life  is  good  ;  life  is  a  gift  of 
 God  and  to  be  enjoyed,  and  it  is  to  be  made  the  most  of.  But  the 
 philosoi)hy  of  orthodox  Judaism,  such  as  it  was  down  to  Spinoza's  day, 
 had  very  little  foundation  to  build  upon.  The  common  belief  that  virtue 
 was  always  rewarded  in  this  world,  and  vice  always  punished,  was  evi- 
 dently insufficient.  Its  insufficiency  had  been  seen  by  the  prophets  and  by 
 the  nameless  poet  of  the  Book  of  Job.  A  new  base  had  to  be  found.  I 
 shall  not  attempt  here  to  explain  Spinoza's  philosophy,  having  already 
 made,  in  a  published  work,  such  contribution  as  I  could  to  that  very 
 difficult  undertaking.  The  central  idea,  however,  is  the  union  of  man  with 
 the  order  of  the  world.  In  so  far  as  a  man  can  understand  that  he  is 
 part  of  the  order  of  the  world,  and  can  consciously  realize  this  with 
 cheerful  acquiescence,  he  has  the  wisdom  which  delivers  him  from  vanity 
 and  earthly  desires  and  the  vicissitudes  of  life.  This  is  a  hard  thing  to 
 accept  at  first  sight,  and  Spinoza  does  not  pretend  that  it  is  easy.  "  You 
 tell  me  " —  so  one  may  abridge  the  gist  of  several  of  his  remarks — "  this 
 way  is  hard ;  certainly  it  is  so.  If  it  were  not  hard,  everybody  would 
 attain  to  it ;  all  things  worth  having  are  hard."  Spinoza's  view  involves 
 a  great  demolition  of  prejudice.  It  involves  particularly  the  demolition 
 of  the  great  prejudice  that  the  world  and  all  that  therein  is  was  made  for 
 man  and  exists  for  his  benefit ;  in  short,  of  the  whole  doctrine  of  so-called 
 Final  Causes. 
 
 The  Appendix  to  the  first  part  of  Spinoza's  Ethics  contains  his  opinion 
 of  the  current  doctrine.  He  says  that  men  being  accustomed  to  make 
 various  instruments  for  their  own  use,  and  finding  that  many  parts  of 
 Nature  which  they  did  not  make  are  useful  to  them,  conclude  that  this 
 must  be  so  because  these  natural  conveniences  were  made  for  the  use  of 
 man  by  somebody  else.  From  the  example  of  the  instruments  they  are 
 accustomed  to  provide  for  themselves,  they  conclude  that  there  must  be 
 one  or  more  rulers  of  Nature,  having  a  free  will  like  man's,  who  have 
 provided  all  these  things  for  them  and  made  them  for  their  use.  Then 
 they  proceed  to  consider  what  the  designs  and  temper  of  the  gods  are 
 like,  and  they  set  about  propitiating  the  gods,  so  that  the  gods  may  love 
 them  better  than  their  neighbours.  But  then  they  find  many  things  which 
 are  not  convenient,  but  the  reverse ;  earthquakes,  pestilences,  storms,  and 
 the  like,  and  these  they  account  for  by  supposing  that  the  gods  are  angry 
 for  some  wrong  that  men  have  done  them  ;  or  for  sins  committed  in  the 
 observance  of  their  worship ;  and  although  experience  showed  them  every 
 day  that  good  and  ill  happen  to  the  just  and  the  unjust  alike,  yet  they  did 
 
720  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 not  cease  from  the  ingrained  prejudice;  for  it  was  easier  to  relegate  this 
 among  the  many  other  things  they  did  not  know,  and  so  to  keep  their 
 present  and  inborn  condition  of  ignorance,  than  to  destroy  all  that  fan- 
 tastic building  they  had  made,  and  set  about  thinking  out  a  new  one. 
 Wherefore  they  made  sure  that  the  judgments  of  the  gods  were  altogether 
 above  the  capacity  of  man.  This,  Spinoza  says  in  a  singularly  caustic 
 passage,  would  have  been  enough  to  prevent  all  true  philosophy  from  ever 
 being  discovered,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  mathematics,  which  showed 
 the  way  to  a  clear  and  intelligible  manner  of  thinking. 
 
 I    need  not   tell  you  that   Spinoza  does    not    clear  up  the  world-old 
 problem  of  the   origin  of  the  evil.     Still,  he  has  his  own  way  of  looking 
 at  it.     He  says  that  people  are  accustomed  to  argue  thus  : — If  everything 
 is  a  consequence  of  the  absolutely  perfect  nature  of  God,  why  are  there 
 so  many  imperfect  things  in  Nature  ?     But  the  perfection  of  things  is  to 
 be  measured  only  by  their  own  nature  and  power,  and  things  are  not  more 
 or  less  perfect  because  they  are  agreeable  or  the  reverse  to  the  senses  of 
 mankind  ;  or  because  they  are  helpful  to  our  nature  or  repugnant  to  it. 
 "  As  for  those  who  ask  why  God  did  not  make  all  men  in  such  sort  that 
 they  should   be  led  solely  by  the  command  of  reason,  I  have   no  other 
 answer  than  that  it  was  because  matter  was  not  wanting  for  Him  to  create 
 everything   from    the  greatest   degree  of   perfection    even   to  the  least." 
 That  is  not  a  pleasant  answer  to  human  pride,  but  I  think  it  is  a  great  deal 
 nearer  the  truth  than  any  of  the  popular  ones,  and  not  the  less  so  because 
 it  is  specially  obnoxious  to  the  ordinary  assumption  of  orthodox  theolo- 
 gians.    Many  theologians  have  deserved  the  respect,  some  have  deserved 
 the  reverence  and  love,  of  all  good  men.     But  there  is  also  a  kind  of 
 professional  theology  which  may  be  described  as  a  pretended  science  of 
 teaching  God  Almighty  his  own   business.     Accordingly  Spinoza,  having 
 insisted  that  God  Almighty  knew  his  own  business   best,  was  denounced 
 as  a  blasphemer  of  the  most  wicked  and  insidious  kind,  and  the  Ethics 
 called  forth  a  storm  of  condemnation  almost  greater  than  had  been  excited 
 before  by  the  Theologico-Political  Treatise. 
 
 Spinoza's  method  of  arriving  at  the  union  of  man  with  the  order  of 
 things,  or  with  God — (for  in  Spinoza  these  expressions  are  either  synony- 
 mous, or  distinguished  only  by  refined  mctapliysical  differences)— is  by  a 
 purely  intellectual  process.  In  this  he  is  like  the  old  Greek  philosophers. 
 In  fact,  parts  of  Spinoza's  dialectic  are  very  like  the  reasoning  of  the 
 followers  of  Aristotle.  I  do  not  mean  his  earliest  followers,  but  those  who 
 developed  the  doctrine  in  the  Arabic  schools. 
 
 This  is  another  curious  point  of  contact  between  Spinoza  and  ilie  better 
 part  of  Western  Christianity.  Spinoza's  results  are  arrived  at  in  a  purely 
 philosophic  way,  but  they  are  essentially  like  the  views  which  one  finds  in 
 those  Christian  philosophers  who  are  commonly  called  Mystics.  There 
 is  an  anonymous  fourteenth,  century  book,  which  resembles  Spinoza  in 
 so   far  as  its  author  had    no  intention  of   founding  a  school,  and   did 
 
SPINOZA.  72.L 
 
 not  even  wish  his  work  to  pass  by  his  name.  He  was  more  successful 
 than  Spinoza,  for  we  do  not  really  know  at  all  who  he  was.  His  book 
 is  known  as  the  German  Theology,  and  I  think  it  is  about  as  certain 
 as  anything  in  the  history  of  letters  can  be  that  Spinoza  had  never 
 read  or  heard  of  it ;  and  if  he  had  read  or  heard  of  it,  he  probably 
 would  have  paid  no  attention  to  it.  But  it  is  important  to  see  how 
 very  far  this  fourteenth-century  German,  who,  for  anything  one  knows 
 may  have  been  a  monk,  was  removed  from  the  vulgar  machinery  of 
 practical  theology.  He  says  that  a  man  who  has  attained  a  real  sense 
 of  religion  loves  the  good  only  for  its  own  sake.  These  men,  he  says, 
 are  in  a  state  of  freedom,  because  they  have  lost  the  fear  of  pain  or  hell, 
 and  the  hope  of  reward  or  heaven,  and  are  living  in  pure  submission  to 
 eternal  goodness,  in  the  perfect  freedom  of  fervent  love.  This  mind  was 
 in  Christ  in  perfection,  and  is  also  in  His  followers — in  sonie  more,  in 
 some  less.  And  again  he  says:  "Mark:  that  when  true  love  and  true 
 Hght  are  in  a  man,  good  is  known  and  loved  for  itself,  and  as  itself."  And 
 he  says  again  :  "  In  this  sense  the  saying  is  true  that  God  loveth  not  Him- 
 self; that  if  there  were  aught  better  than  God,  God  would  love  it,  and 
 not  Himself"  And  much  more,  which  is  well  worth  seeing  at  large  in 
 the  book.  These  passages  and  several  others  might  almost  have  come 
 out  of  the  last  part  of  the  Ethics  of  Spinoza.  So  far  as  I  know  there  is 
 absolutely  no  trace  of  historical  connection,  but  it  is  important  to  see  that 
 a  fourteenth-century  Catholic,  living  in  a  time  when  the  doctrines  of  the 
 Church  of  Rome  would  not  generally  lend  themselves  to  such  views, 
 could  write  down  this,  and  apparently  without  any  consciousness  that  he 
 was  in  any  way  offending  against  orthodoxy.  I  do  not  mean  you  to 
 supi)ose  that  the  author  of  this  book  would  have  been  what  we  call  a 
 reformer,  but  I  think  he  would  probably  have  told  you  that  what  the 
 Church  commanded  was  no  doubt  right,  but  that  all  these  ceremonies  and 
 details  of  dogma  were  as  nothing  compared  to  a  man  having  the  true 
 light. 
 
 Spinoza's  work  fell,  at  the  time,  quite  flat,  not  only  on  the  orthodox, 
 but  on  most  of  the  unorthodox,  until  towards  the  end  of  the  eighteenth 
 century.  It  was  a  time  when  people  cared  very  little  for  anything  they 
 could  not  put  into  definite  propositions,  and  all  through  the  eighteenth 
 century  you  will  find  that  the  higher  side  of  Spinoza's  teaching  was 
 absolutely  ignored.  I  think  there  is  not  a  single  writer  in  the  eighteenth 
 century  who  can  be  said  to  grapple  with  Spinoza  seriously.  His  orthodox 
 opponents  picked  logical  holes  in  one  or  more  of  his  propositions,  which 
 was  not  a  very  difficult  feat,  although  I  am  bound  to  say  that  they  did  it 
 ill  rather  than  well.  Freethinkers,  on  the  other  hand,  got  hold  of  the 
 Theologico-Political  Treatise,  and  picked  out  its  arguments  against  miracles, 
 and  so  forth,  as  controversial  weapons  ;  whereas  it  is  really  a  little  matter 
 whether  a  man  believes  in  miracles  or  not,  but  an  infinitely  greater  matter 
 in  what  spirit  he  believes  or  disbelieves  them.     The  first  man,  so  far  as  I 
 
 VOL.  I.— pt.  2.  3  B 
 
722  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 know,  in  modern  Europe  who  really  took  hold  of  Spinoza  in  the  right 
 way  was  Lessing,  the  great  restorer  of  literature  and  criticism  in  Germany. 
 Then  the  spirit  of  Spinoza,  which  was  first  awakened  in  Lessing,  took 
 hold  of  Goethe.  To  say  that  it  took  hold  of  Goethe  is  to  say  that  it  was 
 established  in  the  centre  of  the  European  movement  of  letters  and  civiliza- 
 tion. I  need  hardly  tell  those  of  you  whom  it  interests  to  know  it  that 
 the  spirit  of  Spinoza  has  been  actively  at  work  ever  since  in  the  whole 
 development  of  modern  German  philosophy. 
 
 His  influence  then  came  to  England  through  Coleridge,  who  was  a 
 man  of  genius  in  many  directions  :  in  poetry,  in  religion,  and  almost, 
 although  not  quite,  in  philosophy.  Coleridge  learned  to  know  Spinoza 
 from  the  Germans,  and  taught  much  of  what  he  knew  to  Wordsworth. 
 There  is  an  odd  story  in  Coleridge's  autobiography,  of  how  he  roamed 
 about  with  Wordsworth  on  the  Quantocks,  where  he  was  living  during  the 
 early  period  of  the  great  French  war.  There  was  an  alarm  about  Jacobins 
 and  corresponding  societies,  and  so  a  disguised  police  officer  was  sent  to 
 watch  the  movements  of  Coleridge  and  Wordsworth  as  being  more  or  less 
 suspected  persons.  Coleridge  heard  afterwards  what  this  man  had  re- 
 l)orted  of  the  fragments  of  conversation  he  had  picked  up.  "  At  first  he 
 fancied  that  we  were  aware  of  our  danger,  for  he  often  heard  me  talk  of 
 "Spy  Nozy";  which  he  was  inclined  to  interi)ret  of  himself  and  of  a 
 remarkable  feature  belonging  to  him;  but  he  was  speedily  convinced  that 
 it  was  the  name  of  a  man  who  had  made  a  book  and  lived  long  ago." 
 Coleridge  was  accordingly  left  unmolested.  Perhaps  it  is  not  too  fanciful 
 to  sui)pose  that  something  of  Coleridge's  talk  about  Spinoza  found  its  way 
 into  Wordsworth's  poetry,  and  from  thence  into  what,  for  want  of  a  better 
 word,  we  call  Nature-Worship— an  element  which  has  certainly  been  an 
 influence  for  the  better  in  nearly  all  English  literature  since. 
 
 But  there  were  also  theologians  and  philosophers  who  learnt  much  from 
 Coleridge  in  due  time,  and  amongst  others  one  whose  name  I  can  never 
 mention  otherwise  than  with  reverence — and  I  think  it  would  have  been 
 the  same  even  if  I  had  not  had  the  privilege  of  knowing  him— I  mean 
 the  late  Mr.  Maurice,  one  of  the  most  enlightened  and  large-hearted  men 
 the  Church  of  England  ever  had.  He  wrote  a  book  on  Modern  Philo- 
 sophy, in  which  he  gave  many  pages  to  Spinoza,  and  treated  him  as  you 
 would  expect  a  man  of  his  nature  to  do  (although  evidently  dissenting 
 from  his  conclusions),  with  the  utmost  respect  and  moral  sympathy.  I 
 think  Maurice  must  have  taught  a  great  many  people  to  think  better  of 
 Spinoza  than  the  i)opular  theology  does  ;  and  what  Maurice's  influence 
 was  on  liberal  English  theology  I  need  not  say  here.  So  that  I  think  one 
 may  say  that  S])inoza  has  been  a  living  power  not  only  in  modern  philo- 
 sophy and  theology,  but  in  the  best  life  of  modern  English  theology.  I 
 am  quite  aware  that  there  are  still  sections  in  the  Church  of  England,  and 
 for  anything  I  know  in  other  Churches  in  England,  which  refuse  to  have 
 nnything  to  do  with   modern  criticism,  and  regard  men  like  Maurice  and 
 
SPINOZA.  723 
 
 Kingsley  as  dangerous.     From  their  own  point  of  view  those  sections  are 
 doubtless  right,  and  they  have  their  reward. 
 
 I  am  not  here  (need  I  say  it?)  to  endeavour  to  persuade  you  that 
 everything  Spinoza  said  is  right ;  or  that  you  may  not  find  serious  logical 
 defects  in  his  work.  Tliat  is  one  of  the  great  misapprehensions  that  have 
 grown  up  about  Spinoza ;  because  he  put  some  of  his  work  into  the  form 
 of  demonstration  in  the  manner  of  his  time,  it  is  supposed  to  be  an 
 absolutely  logical  system  which  must  all  stand  or  fall  together.  That  is 
 an  entire  mistake.  And  it  would  be  a  mistake  even  if  Spinoza  had 
 thought  that  he  had  made  an  absolutely  logical  demonstration.  The 
 living  power  of  a  i)hilosopher  does  not  depend  on  his  finding  the  whole 
 truth,  a  thing  which  certainly  no  man  has  yet  found.  But  Spinoza  did  that 
 on  a  great  scale  which  all  of  us  on  some  scale,  be  it  small  or  great,  can 
 certainly  do.  He  sought  truth  with  an  open  heart ;  he  never  feared  to 
 face  it,  however  unexpected  its  appearance  might  be ;  and  he  never  turned 
 back  from  the  consecjuences  of  that  of  whicli  he  was  once  fully  per- 
 suaded. He  is,  perhaps,  the  great  example  in  modern  Europe  of  one 
 who  worked  as  the  true  philosopher  should  work.  He  built  (to  borrow 
 the  words  used  by  Mr.  Browning  for  a  different  purpose  in  one  of  his 
 noblest  poems)  "broad  on  the  roots  of  things." 
 
 I  have  not  thought  it  necessary  so  far  to  give  out  a  text  for  this  dis- 
 course, but  I  propose  now  to  give  you  a  text  for  the  end.  It  is  from 
 William  Blake,  who,  with  the  possible  exception  of  Coleridge,  is,  in  my 
 judgment,  the  man  of  the  greatest  religious  genius  whom  we  have  had  in 
 England  in  recent  generations.  I  need  hardly  tell  you  that  William  Blake 
 was  also  a  madman,  a  dangerous  heretic  in  both  letters  and  art,  and  alto- 
 gether unaccounted  for  by  orthodox  canons  of  poetry  and  painting.  In 
 other  words,  he  was  a  great  and  original  artist,  endowed,  moreover,  with 
 that  peculiar  kind  of  philosophical  temper  which  we  call  religious  insight 
 as  distinguished  from  pure  intellectual  speculation.  Blake  did  not  care 
 much,  I  suppose,  about  the  literal  acceptation  of  his  own  words,  and  if 
 any  one  construes  them  literally  it  is  entirely  on  his  own  responsibility. 
 But  I  think  that  in  the  words  of  Blake  there  is  a  good  deal  of  the  spirit 
 of  Spinoza,  notwithstanding  that  Blake  probably  never  heard  of  him  : 
 
 "  The  worship  of  God  is  honouring  his  gifts  in  other  men,  each  accord- 
 ing to  his  genius,  and  loving  the  greatest  men  best.  Those  who  envy 
 or  calumniate  great  men  hate  God,  for  there  is  no  other  God." 
 
724 
 
 THE    RELIGION    OF    NATURE, 
 
 AS    TAUGHT    BY    JEAN    JACQUES    ROUSSEAU. 
 By  Mrs.  Frederika  Macdonald. 
 
 "  J'aperc^ois  Dieu  partout  dans  ses  ceuvres,  je  le  sens  en  moi,  je  le  vois  tout  autour  de 
 moi  :  mais  sitot  que  je  veux  cherclier  ou  il  est,  ce  qu'il  est,  quelle  est  sa  substance,  sitot 
 que  je  veux  le  contempler  en  lui-nieme,  il  m'echappe,  et  mon  esprit  trouble  n'aper^oit 
 plus  rien." 
 
 "  Penetre  de  mon  insuffisance,  je  ne  raisonnerai  jamais  sur  la  nature  de  Dieu  :  car  ce 
 qu'il-y-a  de  plus  injurieux  a  la  divinite  n'est  pas  de  n'y  point  penser,  mais  d'en  nial 
 penser." 
 
 .  .  .  "  II  est  au  fond  des  ames  un  principe  inne  de  justice  et  de  vertu  sur  lequel, 
 malgre  nos  propres  maximes,  nous  jugeons  nos  actions,  et  celles  d'autrui,  et  c'est  a  ce 
 principe  que  je  donne  le  nom  de  Conscience." 
 
 "  La  Conscience  ne  trompe  jamais;  elie  est  le  vrai  guide  de  I'homme  ;  elle  est  a 
 Tame  ce  que  I'instinct  est  au  corps  :  qui  la  suit,  obeil  a  la  nature." — Vicai>-e  Savoyard 
 Emilc,  liv.  iv. 
 
 "Je  veux  chercher  si  dans  I'ordre  civil  il  peut  y  avoir  quelque  regie  d'administration 
 legitime  et  sure,  en  prenant  les  hommes  tels  qu'ils  sonts,  et  les  lois  telles  qu'elles 
 peuvent  etre     ..." 
 
 "La  force  est  une  puissance  physique  :  je  ne  vois  point  quelle  moralite  peut  resulter 
 de  ses  effets.  S'il  faut  obcir  par  force,  on  n'a  pas  besoin  d'obeir  par  devoir  :  et  si  i'on 
 n'est  plus  force  d'obeir,  on  n'y  est  plus  oblige.     ..." 
 
 "  Le  plus  fort  n'est  jamais  assez  fort  pour  etre  toujours  le  maitre  s'il  ne  transforme  sa 
 force  en  droit,  et  I'obeissance  en  devoir." — Contrat  Social,  chap.  iii. 
 
 In  1760,  that  is  to  say,  a  short  time  before  the  publication  of  Rousseau's 
 great  works,  the  Emile  and  The  Social  Contract,  a  satirical  play,^  was  put 
 on  the  French  stage  by  one  Palissot,  a  protege  of  the  Jesuits,  whose  pur- 
 pose it  was  to  ridicule  the  leading  philosophers,  and  their  social  doctrines. 
 In  this  play,  Jean  Jacques,  then  known  to  fame  only  as  the  author  of  a 
 popular  romance  and  of  two  remarkable  essays  attacking  the  corrupt 
 civilization  of  his  day,  was  represented  walking  upon  all  fours,  and 
 grazing,  Nebuchadnezzar-like,  in  a  meadow. 
 
 Now  does  this  caricature  show  us,  in  an  exaggerated  light,  of  course, 
 the  true  character  and  direction  of  the  "  Religion  of  Nature  "  taught  by 
 Rousseau  ?  If  we  are  to  be  guided  by  popular  modern  theories,  it  actually 
 does  this.  In  other  words,  the  prophetic  message  that  produced  so  deep 
 an  impression  upon  men  and  women,  who  were  certainly,  to  say  the  least, 
 as  intelligent  in  their  generation  as  we  are  in  ours,   was   nothing  better 
 
 '  Les  Philosophes.  The  comedy  was  composed  to  please  the  I'rincesse  de  Kobecq, 
 daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Luxembourg,  and  mistress  of  Choiscul.  Diderot  and  Ilelvctius 
 were  especially  painted  in  odious  colours.  Stanislas,  king  of  Poland,  would  have  dis- 
 missed Palissot  from  his  Academy,  for  having  written  Les  I'hilosophes,  had  not  Rousseau 
 interceded  for  the  playwright.  See  Con/.,  part  ii.,  liv.  87.  In  June,  17S2,  i.e.  four 
 years  after  Rousseau's  death,  it  was  attempted  to  represent  f.es  Philosophes,  but  when 
 ihe  actor  personating  Jean  Jacques  entered  crawling,  the  audience  rose  in  indignation, 
 and  the  piece  was  stopped.     See  Correspondance  Littiiaite  of  Giinnn,  June,  1782. 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  NATURE.  725 
 
 than  the  assurance  that  all  civilization  is  a  mistake ;  and  that  the  only 
 remedy  for  the  evils  and  injustices  we  find  existing  amongst  us,  is  to  drive 
 human  life  back  upon  the  path  of  progress,  and  to  return,  if  not  to  four- 
 footed  tranquillity,  then  to  a  state  of  barbarism. 
 
 If  this  is  a  true  account  of  the  matter,  if  the  gospel  according  to  Jean 
 Jacques  was  actually  "  the  sorry  affair  "  (to  quote  Professor  Huxley)  that 
 modern  critics  suppose,  then  the  effect  it  produced  is  one  of  the  most 
 astounding  events  in  human  history. 
 
 "  It  was  Rousseau's  work  more  than  that  of  any  other  one  man,"  says 
 Mr.  Morley,^  "  that  France  arose  from  the  deadly  decay  that  had  laid 
 hold  of  her  whole  political  and  social  system  ;  and  found  the  irresistible 
 energy  that  warded  off  dissoluiion  within,  and  partition  from  without." 
 Well,  but  if  this  "  irresistible  energy "  was  derived  from  the  doctrines 
 Mr.  Morley  attributes  to  Rousseau,  all  one  can  say  is  that  the  notions  of 
 men  and  women  one  hundred  and  thirty  years  ago  concerning  what  prin- 
 ciples are  inspiring,  and  what  destructive  of  hope,  must  have  been  exactly 
 opposite  to  our  own. 
 
 The  proposition  that  "  a  tree  is  known  by  its  fruits,"  is  one,  nevertheless, 
 that  commands  the  assent  of  most  impartial  minds.  Let  us  see,  then, 
 whether  in  this  instance  we  must  reject  a  general  truth  ;  and  allow  the 
 modern  critics  to  convince  us  that  in  the  case  of  Rousseau  and  his 
 "gospel,"'  men  did  actually  gather  grapes  from  thorns,  and  figs  from 
 thistles. 
 
 The  first  step  towards  a  proper  understanding  of  Rousseau's  doctrine 
 is  to  recognise  its  relationship  to,  or  rather  its  place  in,  the  great  spiritual 
 movement  that  went  on  in  France  during  the  Eighteenth  Century.  This 
 movement  we  can  at  length  study  from  the  favourable  position  that 
 enables  us  to  discover,  amongst  many  minor  currents,  the  main  stream  of 
 thoughts  and  events  that  constitutes  the  true  life  of  an  epoch  long  made 
 dark  by  the  smoke  and  glare  left  by  that  great  conflagration,  the  Revolu- 
 tion. It  is  precisely  the  master-current  of  spiritual  activity,  where  lives 
 and  moves  the  mind  of  France  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,  that  has  been 
 lost  siglit  of  by  critics  who  have  only  sought  and  found,  in  this  age,  the 
 example  of  a  world  thai  had  to  perish  for  its  sins. 
 
 "This   epoch  of  the  Eighteenth  or  Philosophe  Century,"  declares  Car 
 
 "^  Life  of  Rousseau,  vol.  i.,  chap,  i.,  p.  3.  Compare  this  account  and  other  accounts 
 of  Rousseau's  influence  with  the  descriptions  of  him  personally,  as  a  ^'■diseased  miserable 
 sensualist,''  (vol.  i.,  p.  257),  and  with  such  accounts  of  his  doctrine  as  the  following  : — 
 "  The  dream  of  human  perfectibility,  which  nerved  tnen  like  Condorcet,  ivas  to  Rousseau 
 a  sour  and  fantastic  mockery.  The  utmost  men  could  do  7i>as  to  turn  their  eyes  to  the 
 Past,  to  obliterate  the  interval,  to  try  to  walk  for  a  space  in  the  track  of  ancient  societies — 
 they  ■would  hardly  succeed,  but  endeavour  might  at  least  do  something  to  stay  the  plague 
 of  universal  degene7-acy"  (vol.  ii.,  p.  120).  With  this  description  compare  Rousseau's 
 own  account  of  the  sentiments  that  inspired  him  when  he  wrote  the  Discourses  :— 
 "  Berccde  Pespoir  defaire  enfin  triompher  des  prejuges  et  du  mensonge  la  raison,  la  veritc, 
 et  de  rendre  les  hommes  sages  en  leur  montrant  Icur  veritable  interet,  son  coetir  khauffe par 
 Pidce  du  bonheur  futur  du  genre  humain  et  par  Phonneur  d'y  contribuer,  lui  dictait  un 
 langage  digue  d'une  si  grande  entreprise."— Second.  Dialogue,  457. 
 
726  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 lyle,'  "  is  properly  the  End.  The  End  of  a  Social  System  that  for  more 
 than  a  thousand  years  had  been  building  itself  together,  and  after  that, 
 had  begun  for  some  centuries,  as  human  things  all  do,  to  moulder  down." 
 
 No  one  can  deny  the  truth  of  this  statement,  so  far  as  it  goes  :  the 
 fault  in  it  is  that  it  does  not  go  far  enough  ;  and  that  whilst  concentrating 
 attention  upon  the  unmistakable  signs  of  a  Social  System  in  a  state  of 
 dissolution,  it  fails  to  notice  the  more  important  and  interesting  proofs  of 
 a  newly  awakened  Ideal  Faith,  preparing  the  way  for  new  order,  and  new 
 forms  of  life. 
 
 It  is  the  birth  and  steady  growth  of  this  new  Ideal  Faith  that  belong 
 properly  to  France  in  the  Eighteenth  Century.  As  for  the  conspicuous 
 signs  of  social  corruption  and  decay,  these  are  no  essential  characteristics 
 of  the  spirit  of  the  age  ;  they  are  a  portion  of  the  inheritance  received 
 from  a  former  age,  from  the  "  Great  Century  "  so-called,  the  century  of 
 Louis  XIV.,  that  had  succeeded  in  poisoning  where  it  had  not  drained 
 dry  all  those  sources  that  in  mediaeval  France  had  been  springs  of  health 
 and  life.-  This  is  not  a  matter  of  speculation  ;  it  is  a  fact  of  history.  It 
 was  in  the  Seventeenth  Century  that  France  was  impoverished  and 
 depopulated  by  exhausting  wars,  and  the  desolating  persecution  of  the 
 Protestants,  that  drove  from  the  country,  when  they  did  not  exterminate, 
 all  that  was  most  skilled  and  prudent  in  the  industrial  life  of  France.  It 
 was  in  this  century,  too,  that  the  demoralization  of  the  French  "  Noblesse"' 
 was  brought  about,^  by  the  establishment  of  the  extravagant  court  life  that 
 transformed  the  resident  landlords  on  their  own  estates  into  profligate 
 Versailles  courtiers,  with  no  employment  but  vicious  "gallantry"  or  court 
 intrigues.  Again,  it  was  not  the  despised  Louis  XV.,  but  the  universally 
 bclaudetl  Louis  XIV.,  who  first  degraded  public  morals,  and  the  mon- 
 archical idea,  by  affording  his  subjects  the  spectacle  of  a  most  Christian 
 king  whose  domestic  arrangements  were  those  of  a  polygamous  Mussul- 
 man, and  who  published  the  fact  to  the  world  by  legitimatizing  the  off- 
 springs of  three  adulterous  unions.  It  was  under  this  reign,  too,  that  the 
 Church,  once  with  all  her  faults  of  fanaticism  the  stern  reprover  of  kings, 
 earned  the  scorn  as  well  as  the  hatred  of  all  tiiat  was  most  moral  and 
 humane  in  France  by  her  cynical  toleration  of  vice  in  high  places,  and 
 her  fanatical  persecution  of  opinions.  * 
 
 '  Miscellanies,  "  Diderot,—'"  and  this  ef^timnte  of  the  age  afTects  also  Carlyle's  judgment 
 of  its  leading  men,  antl  of  the  work  done  by  them.  For  Carlyle,  Voltaire  is  "  no  great  man, 
 but  only  a  great  persijlenr'"  ;  Diderot  is  "  <»  mechanical  philosophe-seulitncntalistr  Car- 
 lyle's infallible  instinct  for  the  "  original  man,"  the  "  man  of  genius,"  does  not  let  him  go 
 so  far  astray  in  the  case  of  Rousseau,  and  it  is  to  he  remarked  that,  with  all  his  antipathy 
 to  the  Kightcenth  Century,  his  judgment  of  the  prophet  of  that  age  is  more  sympatlictic 
 than  the  judgment  of  Mr.  Moricy.  For  Carlyle,  Rousseau  "  is  a  deep-minded  high- 
 minded,  even  noble,  yet  wofuliy  misarrangcd  mortal  ...  in  whom  nevertheless  did 
 lie  prophetic  meaning  such  as  none  of  the  others  offer." — Essay,  "  Diderot." 
 
 *  ''Louis  XIV.,  enterre  un  monde,''  Michelet,  Hist,  de  France,  vol.  xiii.,  Intro- 
 duction, 13. 
 
 ^  Sec  "  Origines  de  la  France  Contc/iporains,"  FAncicn  A\'gi/ne,  liv.  i.,  Tainc. 
 
 *  In  1709,  the  nuns  of  I'ort   Royal  were  driven  from  their  convent  by  the  police  as 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  NATURE.  727 
 
 A  corrupt  Church  and  court,  a  demoralized  aristocracy,  an  impoverished 
 people — here  you  have  the  legacy  received  from  the  Seventeenth  Cen- 
 tury, and  no  doubt  if  you  are  pleased  to  study  the  Eighteenth  Century  at 
 the  court  of  Louis  XV.,  you  will  find  what  Carlyle  calls  so  well  the 
 "  mouldering  down  of  the  old  system  "  going  on  rapidly  enough  until  the 
 end. 
 
 But  then,  whilst  France  in  the  Seventeenth  Century  is  correctly  de- 
 scribed as  the  France  of  Louis  XIV.,  France  in  the  Eighteenth  Century  is 
 not  the  France  of  Louis  XV.  at  all.  It  is  the  France  of  Montesquieu,  of 
 Voltaire,  of  Diderot,  until  it  becomes  the  France  of  Jean  Jacques  Rous- 
 seau. In  other  words,  it  is  the  France  of  the  new  Ideal  Faith,  destined  to 
 transform  the  old  views  of  the  duties,  obligations,  and  aims  of  human  life. 
 
 This  Ideal  Faith,  new  in  its  form,  and  in  the  purpose  it  set  itself  to 
 serve,  was,  no  doubt,  a  return  to  those  animating  principles  of  trust  in 
 nature  and  in  man,  that  three  centuries  earlier,  in  Italy,  had  given  the 
 impulse  to  the  minds  and  imaginations  of  men  that  had  its  result  in  what 
 is  called  the  Renaissance.  But  the  leaders  in  the  spiritual  movement 
 that  belongs  to  France  in  the  Eighteenth  Century  accepted  these  principles 
 in  a  nobler  sense,  and  gave  them  a  wider  application,  than  had  been 
 possible  to  the  men  of  the  Renaissance  in  full  reaction  against  the  dreari- 
 ness, terror,  and  penitential  restraints,  imposed  upon  life  by  mediaeval 
 Catholicism.  After  the  exuberant  outburst  of  intellectual  and  artistic 
 energy  that  marked  the  first  period  of  the  Renaissance,  the  genius  of 
 that  movement  lost  itself  in  the  vain  effort  to  restore,  tocrether  with 
 classical  culture,  the  conditions  of  feeling  and  the  views  of  life  that  liad 
 belonged  to  civilized  Paganism.  "  The  minds  of  the  Italians,"  says  Mr. 
 Symonds,^  "  assimilated  Paganism.  In  their  hatred  of  mediaeval  ignor- 
 ance, in  their  loathing  of  cowled  and  cloistered  fools,  they  flew  to  an 
 extrenie  and  aftected  the  manners  of  an  irrevocable  past.  This  extrava- 
 gance led  of  necessity  to  a  reaction,  in  the  north  to  Puritanism,  in  the 
 south  to  the  counter  Reformation."  In  other  words,  the  effort  of  the 
 Renaissance  failed,  or  was  checked  for  a  season,  not  solel}',  nor  even 
 chiefly,  on  account  of  the  fanatical  opposition  it  provoked  ;  but  because 
 it  was  not  in  itself,  or  its  aims,  sufficient  for,  or  satisfying  to,  a  generation 
 in  whose  consciousness  were  stored  those  treasures  of  sentiment,  and  the 
 moral  sense,  purchased  for  humanity  at  the  cost  of  centuries  of  material 
 and  intellectual  stagnation,  and  of  the  darkening  of  innocent  joy  and  of 
 physical  delight  in  life. 
 
 The  intellectual  revolt  of  the  Eighteenth  Century  was  animated  by  a 
 more  hopeful  purpose  than  the  effort  to  restore  for  men  who  had  out- 
 grown the  tranquil  surroundings  of  the  Pagan  world,  what  Mr.  Pater  calls  ~ 
 "  those  pronounced  qualities   of  the  Renaissance,  the   care  for  physical 
 
 Jansenists,  even    Feiielon    expressing   no  indignation.      In   1712,  the  law  refusing  burial 
 to  persons  without  confession,  was  passed,  etc. 
 
 '  Hist.  0/  KeiutissdHce,  vol.  i.,  p.  27. 
 
 -  Ritiaissance,  Preface,  xiii.    W.  Pater. 
 
72S  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 beauty,  and  the  worship  of  the  body."  The  aim  of  the  new  effort  was  to 
 assert  and  establish  the  dignity  and  independence  of  the  Human  Spirit. 
 Based  upon  beHef  in  the  health  and  beauty,  instead  of  the  grossness  and 
 impurity  of  nature  ;  in  the  natural  goodness,  instead  of  the  innate  depravity 
 of  the  human  heart;  in  the  need,  instead  of  the  peril,  of  cultivating  the 
 intellect,  and  of  strengthening  human  reason  to  take  the  place  of  blind 
 unquestioning  faith  ;  finally,  in  the  claim  of  all  men  to  justice,  instead  of 
 in  the  divine  right  of  a  few  men  to  special  privileges  and  power,  this 
 new  Ideal  Faith  demanded  indeed  a  Revolution,  a  complete  change  from 
 the  conditions  of  a  society  founded  upon  the  assumption  that  the  Divine 
 Law  is  arbitrary,  and  designed  to  hold  in  check  the  evil  instincts  of  man, 
 to  the  conditions  required  by  a  society  recognising  the  laws  of  human 
 nature  as  sacred,  and  the  ideas  of  right  and  justice  as  founded  upon,  and 
 derived  from,  the  moral  instincts  of  mankind. 
 
 This  fundamental  principle  of  trust  in  nature  and  in  man,  leading  on 
 to  the  common  purpose  of  establishiiig  by  the  laios  of  humaji  nature  the 
 standard  of  thougJit  and  co?iduct,  marks  out  the  distinguished  men  of  this 
 epoch,  notwithstanding  their  personal  differences,  as  fellow-workers, — fellow- 
 soldiers,  rather,  fighting  in  the  cause  and  for  the  triumph  of  the  spirit  of 
 the  age.  Wonderful,  and  most  impressive  is  it,  to  trace  this  unsuspected 
 spiritual  relationship  between  the  three  great  leaders  who  represent, 
 severally,  the  three  divisions  of  the  advancing  army,  charged  to  reconquer 
 the  earth  for  man  !  Two  of  these  leaders,  Voltaire  and  Diderot,  supposed 
 themselves  the  enemies  of  the  third,  who  also  regarded  himself  always  as  a 
 solitary  man,  at  war  with  the  tendencies  of  his  time.  And  yet  nothing  is 
 more  clear  to-day  than  tliat  these  supposed  adversaries  of  Rousseau  had 
 worked  to  prepare  his  triumph  ;  and  that  Rousseau,  on  his  side,  merely 
 gave  a  wider  application  to  the  principles  of  the  very  men  whose  influence 
 he  supposed  he  was  resisting.  Before  Rousseau,  Voltaire  had  proclaimed 
 the  rights  of  man — one  of  man's  chief  rights,  at  any  rate,  his  right  to  think, 
 to  use  his  own  intellect,  and  to  abide  by  its  decisions.  Again,  before 
 Rousseau,  Diderot  had  appealed  from  false  science  to  nature ;  and  had 
 declared  that  the  observation  of  natural  laws,  and  not  the  study  of  ancient 
 authorities,  is  the  method  of  true  learning.  But  what  Voltaire  and  Diderot 
 did  only  for  the  intellect  and  the  understanding,  Rousseau  did  for  the 
 conscience  and  the  instincts  of  the  heart.  And  since  even  in  an  age  of 
 culture,  the  life  of  intelligence  is  for  the  few,  whilst  the  life  of  the  heart 
 and  conscience  is  for  all,  Rousseau  was  much  more  than  a  simple  contin- 
 uator  of  the  work  done  by  his  predecessors — he  oi)cncd  out  a  new  world 
 to  this  work  :  transforming  the  purely  intellectual  movement,  whose  influ- 
 ence had  Ijeen  felt  only  by  the  cultivated  classes,  into  a  moral  and  spiritual 
 movement,  bringing  invigorating  principles,  and  new  animating  hopes,  into 
 the  daily  lives  of  men. 
 
 Here  then  you  have  Rousseau's  place  in  the  spiritual  Revolution  of  the 
 Eighteenth  Century.    Amongst  philosophers,  men  of  science  and  of  letters, 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  NATURE.  729 
 
 he  is  the  religious  teacher  par  excellence;  the  man  who  has  the  moral 
 fervour  and  the  impassioned  earnestness  of  a  Spiritual  Prophet.  We  have 
 Rousseau  appearing  in  mid-century;  and  standing  there  precisely  where 
 the  spirit  of  the  age  had  need  of  such  a  minister,  to  save  this  new  effort 
 towards  "  the  liberation  of  humanity  "  from  ending  much  as  the  Renais- 
 sance had  done,  in  some  splendid  services  done  the  intellect  and  imagi- 
 nation ;  but  in  general  disappointment,  as  a  result  of  the  isolation  of 
 a  movement,  affecting  only  the  educated  classes,  from  the  sympathies, 
 interests,  and  aspirations  of  the  mass  of  men.  There  did  seem  some 
 danger  of  such  an  ending  for  the  Eighteenth  Century  movement  at  the  time 
 of  Rousseau's  appearance.  It  was  a  period  of  great  intellectual  enlighten- 
 ment ;  but  of  profound  spiritual  dryness  and  poverty  of  heart.  Very  much 
 that  had  been  heroic  and  humane  in  the  first  revolt  against  cruel  and 
 stupid  bigotry  was  exhausted.  Men  were  no  longer  animated  by  the 
 generous  enthusiasm  for  intellectual  liberty  that  had  inspired  them  at  the 
 commencement  of  the  century,  and  the  prevailing  spirit  of  tolerance  was 
 more  the  result  of  sceptical  indifference,  than  of  any  zeal  for  the  triumph 
 of  great  principles.  There  was  need  indeed  for  the  appearance  of  some 
 Prophet  to  recall  the  spiritual  Revolution  to  a  sense  of  its  true  mission,  and 
 to  give  it  fresh  vitality  by  associating  it  with  the  emotions  and  aspirations 
 of  a  new  religious  enthusiasm. 
 
 But,  now,  by  virtue  of  what  strong  inspiration  could  Rousseau  win  men 
 from  indifference  to  all  questions  of  morals,  and  cynical  contempt  for 
 si)iritual  aims,  to  the  zeal  and  fervour  of  a  new  Religion  ?  The  source  ot 
 his  power  was  in  the  one  strong  inalterable  belief  round  which  all  his 
 teaching  gathers— ///<?  belief  that  goodness,  and  the  love  oj  goodness,  are  part 
 of  the  nature  of  man.  It  is  our  own  judgment,  Rousseau  declares,  and  no 
 supernatural  revelation  external  to  the  heart  of  man,  that  teaches  us  to 
 distinguish  between  good  and  evil.  As  certainly,  he  maintains,  as  pliysical 
 instinct  compels  men  to  know  pain  from  pleasure,  the  moral  sense  forces 
 them  to  distinguish  wrong  from  right ;  indeed,  these  ideas  of  "  rightness  '' 
 or  "  wrongness  "  that  are  attached  to  certain  actions,  are  merely  the  result 
 of  man's  instinctive  perception  of  what  agrees  with,  and  what  is  repugnant 
 to,  his  moral  nature.^  But,  now,  what  a  revolution  in  the  whole  sphere  of 
 thought  and  conduct  was  involved  in  the  acceptance  of  this  simple  propo- 
 sition, that  the  love  of  goodness  is  natural  to  man  !  Here  Rousseau 
 separated  himself  alike  from  the  priests,  and  from  the  popular  philosophers 
 of  his  day  ;  from  those  who  maintained  that  man's  nature  is  corrupt  and 
 inclined  to  evil,  and  from  those  who  asserted  that  man  naturally  has  no 
 inclination  either  to  good  for  its  own  sake,  or  evil  for  its  own  sake,  but 
 
 '  "  La  vertu,  disent  Us,  est  I'amour  de  I'ordre.  Mais  cet  amour  peut  il  done  et  doit 
 il  rempoiter  sur  celui  de  mon  bien  etie  ?  Dans  le  fonds  leiir  pretendu  piincipe  est  un 
 pur  jcu  de  mots — car  je  dis  aussi  moi  que  le  vice  est  Tamour  de  I'ordre  pris  dans  un  sens 
 dilTerent.  II  y  a  quelque  ordre  moral  partout  ou  il  y  a  sentiment  et  intelligence.  La 
 difference  cVst  que  le  l)on  s'ordonne  par  rapport  autout,  et  que  le  mechant  ordonne  le  tout 
 par  rapport  a  lui." — Vicaire Savoyard. 
 
730  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 that,  led  only  by  physical  instinct,  he  seeks  pleasure  and  avoids  pain. 
 But  here  Rousseau  at  the  same  time  proved  himself  the  true  Prophet  who 
 met  and  served  the  spiritual  tendencies  of  his  time.  In  other  words,  the 
 Religion  he  declared  to  his  contemporaries  was  no  strange  doctrine,  it  was 
 their  own  Religion,  "the  faith  in  nature  and  in  man,"  applied  to  conduct  as 
 well  as  to  opinions,  and  used,  as  supernatural  faith  had  been  used  in  times 
 past,  to  sustain  man's  resolution,  to  strengthen  his  sense  of  duty,  and  to  lift 
 his  views  of  life  above  worldly  cares  and  selfish  ambitions.^ 
 
 And  now  we  are  in  a  position  to  answer  the  question  we  started  with  : 
 Where  was  the  "  message  of  good  tidings,"  in  this  Religion  of  Nature,  that 
 woke  the  old  world  from  its  apathy,  and  "gave  Europe,"  in  Mr.  Morley's 
 words,  "  a  new  gospel  "  ?  ^  No  parables,  never  mind  how  eloquent,  con- 
 cerning the  primitive  happiness  and  innocence  of  the  noble  savage  ;  no 
 pictures  of  a  vanished  golden  age,  painted  in  glowing  colours,  could  thus 
 have  stirred  the  times,  or  have  called  forth  those  ardent  hopes  and  practical 
 efforts  for  the  regeneration  of  society.  It  was  Rousseau's  inextinguishable 
 belief,  in  the  face  of  the  wrongs  and  oppressions  of  his  day,  thatyV/j-//Vt'  and 
 right  belong  to  the  nature  of  man,  and  \\\-\'i  therefore  no  institutions  opposed 
 to  the  laws  of  human  nature  are  irrevocable ;  it  was  this  faith  that  enabled 
 him,  whilst  around  him  the  old  systems  were  crumbling  down  on  their  inse- 
 cure foundations  of  discredited  miracles,  to  behold  the  vision  of  the  new 
 Order  built  upon  the  indestructible  facts  of  man's  moral  nature.  Again,  it 
 was  this  faith,  communicated  by  Rousseau  to  his  contemporaries,  that  roused 
 in  them  the  "irresistible  energy"  spoken  of  by  .Mr.  Morley,  bringing  them 
 self  reliance,  and  power  of  self-redemption,  to  take  the  place  of  the  lost  faith 
 in  salvation  by  miracles,  and  of  the  despondency  that  followed  the  vanishing 
 of  that  faith,  a  despondency  the  natural  and  necessary  result  of  centuries  of 
 belief  that  "  there  is  no  power  in  man  himself  whereby  he  may  be  saved."-' 
 
 And  now  what  justification  is  there  for  the  popular  notion  that  Rousseau 
 disbelieved  in  human  progress  altogether,  and  held  the  belief  that  happiness 
 and  innocence  lie  behind  us,  lost  to  the  race  for  ever  with  the  vanished 
 
 '  "  .Seul  etait  Rousseau  au  milieu  du  siecle  quand  il  osa  clans  la  dispute  desclirt'tiens  et 
 des  philosophes  jx»scr  le  dognie  nuiivcau  :  il  ttait  seul  :  le  lendemain  le  nioiule  cntier 
 futalui.  .  .  .  Montesfiuieu  ecrit,  iiUerpicte  le  droit ;  Voltaire  pleuie  et  crie  pour  le  druit  : 
 et  Rousseau  le  fonde.  ...  11  lut  au  fond  de  sa  souffrance  ce  que  le  inoyen  age  n'a 
 jamais  pu  lire,  un  Dieu  juste  :  et,  ce  qu'a  dit  un  glorieux  enfant  de  Rousseau,  '  le  droit 
 est  le  souverain  du  monde.'  Rousseau  I'a  dit  par  un  autre,  par  Miraheau  ;  mais  ce  n'est 
 pas  moins  le  fonds  du  genie  de  Rousseau.  Du  moment  ([u'il  s'est  arraclie  de  la  fausse 
 science  du  temps  et  d'une  societe  non  moins  fausse,  vcnis  les  vc>ye/-  poindre  dans  ses 
 Merits,  cette  belle  lumiere,  le  devoir,  le  droit.  L'Kurope  en  est  tout  change  ...  on 
 critifjue  :  mais  on  oheit.  '  .Sentimentalite  pure!'  disent  ils,  en  lichant  de  sourire.  lis 
 n'en  suivent  pas  moins  ce  reveur.  Les  philosophes  eux-memes,  les  abstracteurstie  f|uint- 
 essences  vont,  malgre  eux,  par  la  voie  simple  du  pauvre  Vicaire  Savoyard." — Int.  li 
 r Hist,  de  la  Kh'oliition,  Michelet. 
 
 ^  Life  of  Rousseau,  vol.  i.,  134. 
 
 ■*  Rf)usseau's  doctrine  is  identical  with  Buddha's  teaching,  and  ojiposed  to  the  Christian 
 theory  of  redemption  through  a  .Saviour's  merits.  Each  man  lias  the  power  to  save  him- 
 self, and  no  other  power  can  save  him.  "  Tour  etre  grand  il  ne  faut  que  se  rendrc  maltre 
 de  soi,"  says  Rousseau  (Discours  sitr  P Inegalite).  ".Self  is  the  Lord  of  self,"  snys 
 Buddha ;  "  with  a  self  well-governed  a  man  has  a  lord  such  as  few  can  find. " — Dliammapada. 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  NATURE.  731 
 
 Eden  of  unashamed  and  naked  barbarism  ?  No  doubt  numerous  passages 
 might  be  quoted  from  Rousseau's  writings  where  the  corrupt  conditions  of 
 society  in  his  own  day  are  declared  to^be  more  destructive  of  human  hap- 
 piness than  the  perils  and  hardships  of  the  savage  state.  But  the  only 
 authority  for  the  assumption  that  Rousseau  disbelieved  in  the  possibility  of 
 progress,  and  regartled  the  savage  as  the  type  and  pattern  of  the  "natural 
 man,"  is  derived  from  those  two  brilliant,  but  paradoxical.  Essays,  the 
 Discourses.  Now  every  attentive  student  of  Rousseau's  history  and 
 writings  knows  that  the  Discourses  do  not  properly  count  amongst  his 
 serious  works  at  all.^  They  were  composed  upon  themes  suggested  by  the 
 Academy  of  Dijon,  at  a  time  when  he  had  not  come  to  take  his  duties  as  a 
 social  Prophet  seriously,  but  when  he  was  merely  an  exasperated,  unhappy 
 man,  tormented  by  mingled  pity  and  indignation,  and  a  too  vivid  sense  of 
 the  miseries  and  vices  of  his  age.  It  was  the  impression  produced  by  the 
 two  "  Discourses"  ^  that  brought  home  to  their  author  the  recognition  of  his 
 power,  and  that  woke  in  him  the  noble  ambition  to  use  this  power  for  his 
 own  reform  and  the  regeneration  of  society.  And  we  have  the  best  proof 
 that  this  was  actually  as  he  states  it,  in  the  different  tone  and  character  of 
 his  writings  after  he  had  solemnly  accepted  his  position  as  a  guide  and 
 counsellor  of  men.  All  the  exaggerated  attacks  upon  civilization,  all  the 
 fanciful  pictures  of  an  imaginary  golden  age,  all  the  exorbitant  claims 
 made  in  the  name  of  personal  freedom,  belong  to  Rousseau's  irresponsible 
 period, — in  other  words, "are  found  in  the  Discourses.  Studied  here,  they 
 afford  us  interesting  indications  of  the  emotions  and  dreams  that  helped  to 
 form  his  genius.  But  once  formed,  this  genius  put  dreams  behind  it.  The 
 author  of  the  Ne7v  Hiloise,  of  the  Social  Contract,  of  the  Etnile,  may  be 
 described  as  an  enthusiast,  but  he  is  no  dreamer  of  dreams.  He  is  before 
 all  things  a  man  who  drives  at  practice.  He  is  no  longer  for  abolishing 
 civilization,  but  for  sim[)lifying  life  ;  he  does  not  preach  the  destruction  of 
 society,  but  its  establishment  upon  the  secure  foundation  of  justice  ;  he 
 asserts  no  more  that  all  men  are  absolutely  free  and  equal,  but  he  claims 
 for  all  men  equal  freedom  under  laws  established  by  general  consent  for 
 the  welfare  of  all. 
 
 Is  this  to  say  that  in  the  "  Discourses  "  Rousseau  propounded  an  opposite 
 doctrine  to  the  one  he  set  forth  deliberately  in  his  more  serious  works  ? 
 Not  at  all.  The  spiritual  tone  and  attitude  of  mind  are  different  :  the 
 animating  ideas  and  principles  are  still  the  same.  To  imagine  that  even  in 
 the  Discourses,  Rousseau's  true  aim  and  purpose  are  to  convince  men  that 
 the  golden  age  lies  behind  them,  is  to  fall  into  the  same  intellectual  blun- 
 
 '  "  Qu'est  ce  que  la  celebrite?" — Rousseau  writes  when  republishing  the  First  Dis- 
 course. "  Voici  le  malheureux  ouvrage  a  qui  je  dois  la  mienne  !  II  est  certain  que  cette 
 piece  qui  m'a  valu  un  prix,  et  qui  m'a  fait  un  nom,  est  tout  au  plus  mediocre  ;  et  j'ose 
 ajuuter  qu'elle  est  une  des  moindres  de  ce  receuil." 
 
 *  "  Comme  je  ne  songeais  plus  a  mon  Discours  j'appris  qu'il  avait  remporte  le  prix  a 
 Dijon.  Cette  nouvelle  reveilla  toutes  les  idees  qui  me  I'avaient  dicte.  Je  ne  trouvai 
 plus  rien  de  grand  et  de  beau  que  d'etre  libre,  vertueux,  au  dessus  de  la  fortune,  et  de. 
 rppinion." — Cotif.,  Part  ii.,  liv.  viii. 
 
732  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 der  those  commit  who  imagine  that  Jesus  sets  the  sinner  above  the  saint, 
 wlien  He  recognises  the  difficulty  of  a  return  to  virtue  in  the  generous  out- 
 burst, "  There  is  more  joy  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth,  than 
 over  ninety  and  nine  just  persons  that  need  no  repentance  "  ;  or  again,  w]io 
 supposes  He  is  counselling  improvidence,  when  He  bids  the  worldly- 
 minded,  and  those  over-careful  and  troubled  by  their  material  needs,  "  to 
 consider  the  lilies  of  the  field  how  they  grow."  There  is  this  difference 
 between  the  abstract  Philosopher  and  the  moral  Prophet :  the  former  has  it 
 for  his  object  to  express  invariable  truths  in  clear  and  unambiguous  terms; 
 but  the  Prophet's  purpose  is  not  to  frame  faultless  theories,  but  to  bring 
 home  some  special  truths  to  special  souls  in  need  of  them— in  oiher  words, 
 to  turn  the  hearts  of  men  and  women  in  the  direction  he  sees  they  need  to 
 go.  Rousseau  saw  clearly,  or  rather  he  felt  strongly,  the  direction  in  which 
 the  highly  cultivated,  but  perverted,  men  and  women  of  his  day  needed  to 
 go.  His  purpose  in  the  two  Discourses  was  to  arouse  and  alarm  this 
 polished  and  corrupt  society,  that  because  it  was  so  polished  and  so  intelli- 
 gent, supposed  itself  the  best  and  most  perfect  society  the  world  has  known. 
 And  thus  we  have  him  denouncing  the  false  civilization,  that  taught  men  to 
 endure  the  loss  of  sincerity  and  simplicity  of  life,  for  the  sake  of  the  sup- 
 posed advantages  of  culture  and  material  ease. 
 
 Rousseau  denied  the  reality  of  these  advantages  ;  he  declared  that  when 
 external  culture  and  refinement  cover  the  neglect  of  the  essential  laws  of 
 human  nature,  they  aggravate,  rather  than  lessen,  the  misery  and  degra- 
 dation of  man,  and  serve  only  to  develop  in  him  artificial  vices  and  mor- 
 bid powers  of  suffering  unknown  to  the  barbarian.  If,  in  this  special 
 instance,  you  think  Rousseau  is  over-stating  the  case,  read  the  Memoirs 
 of  the  Due  de  Richelieu,  the  most  admired  man  of  fashion  of  that  day,  and 
 the  typical  product  of  the  refined  corruption  of  the  period. 
 
 To  read  the  Discourses,  then,  in  their  true  sense,  it  is  necessary  to 
 understand  what  emotions  inspired  them  ;  to  whom  they  were  especially 
 addressed  ;  and  what  immediate  purpose  they  were  intended  to  serve. 
 But  these  considerations  are  entirely  ignored  by  modern  scientific  critics, 
 who  imagine  it  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  snuff  out  the  "  Gospel 
 according  to  Jean  Jacques  "  in  an  article.  We  have  a  curious  example  of 
 the  modern  methods  of  criticising  a  famous  writer,  whose  genius  trans- 
 formed the  convictions  of  Europe  (and  who  commanded  the  veneration  of 
 minds  of  such  undeniable  distinction  as  Mirabeau,  the  man  of  action /rt-r 
 excellence,  as  Madame  Roland,  tlie  ideal  humanitarian,  as  Emanuel  Kant, 
 the  abstruse  philosopher,  as  Schiller,  the  heroic  poet,  etc.)  in  Professor 
 Huxley's  article  in  the  Nineteenth  Century  for  January,  1890.  Tlie  Pro- 
 fessor, undertaking  to  extinguish,  once  and  for  all,  that  "  corpse-candle  of 
 Rousseauism,"  does  not  think  it  worth  while  to  mention  even  the  greatest 
 of  all  Rousseau's  works,  the  Emile  \  but  he  indicates  the  two  sources  of 
 his  information  concerning  Rousseau's  doctrine,  adding  in  the  tone  of  a 
 man  who  has  no  time  to  waste  on  pure  rubbish,  "  //  is  not  necessary  to  ^o 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  NATURE.  733 
 
 any  furl/ier."  The  two  sources  of  Professor  Huxley's  information  are  the 
 Social  Contract  and  the  Discourse  upon  Ineqjtality  :  and  the  critic  classes 
 these  works  together,  as  though  both  had  the  same  importance,  and  repre- 
 sented in  the  same  way  their  author's  serious  and  mature  opinion.  It  is 
 true  that  Professor  Huxley  finds  certain  differences  between  the  conclusions 
 arrived  at  in  the  Discourse  upon  Ineqttality,  and  upon  those  set  forth  in  the 
 Social  Contract;  but  it  is  not  worth  while  to  examine  what  this  inconsist- 
 ency on  the  part  of  a  "  mere  rhetorician  "  and  "  sham  sentimentalist  "  of 
 Rousseau's  sort  signifies  :  "  it  is  enough  for  me,"  says  the  Professor,  with 
 ineffable  superiority,  "  that  the  same  fallacious  assumptions,  and  the  same 
 a  priori  mQihod  pervade  both  works." 
 
 Now  what  Rousseau's  "  assumptions  "  are  we  have  seen  :  they  may  be 
 summed  up  thus  : — 
 
 1.  That  the  love  of  goodness,  taught  man  by  his  moral  instincts,  is  as 
 much  a  fact  of  human  nature  as  self-love,  or  the  love  of  pleasure,  taught 
 him  by  his  physical  instincts. 
 
 2.  That  whilst  self-love  gives  each  man  interests  distinct  from,  and  often 
 opposed  to,  the  interests  of  others,  the  love  of  goodness  creates  moral  in- 
 terests that  are  essentially  the  same  for  all  mankind. 
 
 3.  That  although  in  the  case  of  most  men  self-interest  is  a  stronger 
 passion  than  the  love  of  goodness,  yet  since  the  selfishness  of  each  man  is 
 kept  in  check  by  the  selfishness  of  all  other  men,  it  is  the  love  of  goodness 
 that  is  the  sovereign  law  in  human  life ;  since  this  law  claims  and  com- 
 mands the  general  consent  of  mankind. 
 
 Whether  these  assumptions  are  based  upon  facts,  or  are  "  phantoms 
 bred  of  fallacious  reasoning  and  born  of  the  unscientific  imagination,"  as 
 Professor  Huxley  decides,  we  shall  probably  each  of  us  determine  for  our- 
 selves, by  the  use  of  the  same  method  that  the  Professor  condemns 
 Rousseau  for  employing.  In  a  general  way,  any  clear-headed  and  rational 
 man  when  told  that  such  a  process  of  thought,  or  state  of  feeling,  "  belongs 
 to  human  nature,"  will  recollect  that  he  too  is  human  ;  and  will  ask  of 
 consciousness,  "  Is  this  true  for  me  ?  "  That  bugbear  of  the  modern  scien- 
 tist, the  ^^  a  priori  method,"  needs  to  be  more  precisely  defined,  for  the 
 benefit  of  plain  people  who  value  methods  only  as  they  serve  the  ends  of 
 the  critical  faculty  and  help  us  "  to  see  things  as  in  themselves  they  really 
 are."  We  all  know  the  good  story  of  the  German  idealist,  who  evolved  a 
 camel  from  his  inner  consciousness ;  but  this  good  story  is  often  made  to 
 do  duty  where  it  does  not  in  the  least  apply.  The  German's  blunder  was 
 in  forgetfulness  that  the  domain  of  the  camel  is  not  the  inner  cotisciousness. 
 But  it  is  a  blunder  of  the  same  sort  to  look  for  purely  objective  and  physi- 
 cal explanations  of  those  laws  of  thought  and  conduct  that  have  their 
 sources  in  the  conscience  and  mind  of  man.  Now  it  is  with  these  laws  of 
 thought  and  feeling  that  Rousseau  has  to  do ;  and  his  purpose  is  to  apply 
 tiiese  laws  to  conduct  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  human  life  better,  happier, 
 and  worthier  of  its  noblest  capabilities.     This  is  the  first  object  always  pre- 
 
734  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 sent  to  him.  He  is  not  the  historian  of  primitive  customs  and  usages ;  nor 
 is  he  a  scientific  sociologist,  interested  in  tracing  the  gradual  development 
 of  existing  institutions.  If  he  were  either  of  these,  there  would  be  some 
 weight  in  the  reproaches  of  Professor  Huxley,  Mr.  Morley  and  Sir  Henry 
 Mayne,  who  blame  him  for  not  having  spent  more  time  in  consulting 
 authentic  historical  records  before  he  ventured  to  speak  about  the  state  of 
 nature,  or  the  laws  natural  to  man.  But  in  reality  it  is  not  with  these  his- 
 torical records  of  the  conditions  of  savage  life  that  Rousseau  has  to  do,  and 
 his  excursions  into  the  territory  of  the  historian  and  sociologist  are  made 
 more  for  the  sake  of  illustrations  than  of  proofs,  to  help  his  main  argu- 
 ments. When  Rousseau  speaks  of  the  "  natural  man,"  he  does  not  mean 
 the  savage  man,  but  man  as  he  is  when  ruled  by  the  simple  Jaws  of  nature. 
 "  Takifig  men  as  they  are,  a?id  laws  as  they  might  be,"  he  says  himself,  he 
 seeks  to  discover  on  what  secure  and  just  principles  society  may  be  estab- 
 lished. In  the  New  Hcloise  he  considers  from  this  point  of  view,  the  life 
 of  the  affections  ;  in  the  Social  Contract  he  deals  with  politics  and  the 
 mutual  obligations  of  the  citizen  and  the  state  ;  in  the  Emile  we  have  the 
 same  ])rinciples  applied  to  education  and  Religion  :  and  thus,  taken  to- 
 gether, these  three  works  constitute  one  great  effort  to  found  life  on  the 
 moral  nature  of  man. 
 
 In  a  study  of  this  sort,  I  can  do  no  more  than  give  a  general  outline  of 
 Rousseau's  doctrine,  as  a  tvhole\  but  let  us  see  what  were  the  religious  con- 
 victions of  this  Prophet  to  a  sceptical  age,  and  how  far  there  is  any  truth  in 
 the  assertion,  that  by  reviving  sentiments  and  beliefs  it  had  been  the  effort 
 of  the  Eighteenth-Ct-ntury  philosophy  to  destroy,  "  he  led  a  reaction."  In 
 dealing  with  the  religious  aspirations  of  mankind,  we  find  Rousseau  sepa- 
 rating himself  again  from  the  sceptics,  on  tlu-  one  hand,  and  from  the  dog- 
 matists on  the  other,  to  consult  the  facts  of  human  nature.  The  existence 
 of  God,  Rousseau  maintains,  is  made  known  to  man  by  the  order  of  nature, 
 and  by  the  law  of  right  revealed  through  the  human  conscience.  No 
 difficulties  the  sceptics  can  throw  in  the  way  of  the  belief  tliat  there  is  a 
 Divine  intelligence  at  the  centre  of  things,  can  match  the  difficulty  of  sup- 
 posing that  order  has  come  by  accident  out  of  chaos  ;  or  that  the  moral 
 instinct  in  man  that  teaches  him  to  recognise  a  law  higher  than,  and  often 
 opposed  to,  his  selfish  instincts,  has  no  origin  outside  of  and  higher  than 
 jjhysical  needs.  Therefore,  by  the  exercise  of  the  natural  faculties,  Rous- 
 seau maintains  we  arrive  at  the  conviction  that  God  is.  We  see  Him  every- 
 where in  His  works,  we  feel  Him  within  ourselves,  we  find  Him  everywhere 
 in  the  active  life  around  us.  But  if  we  attempt  to  know  God  in  Himselt, 
 away  from  nature  and  the  human  spirit.  He  escapes  us,  and  we  have  only 
 some  idol  of  our  own  imagining  to  hide  from  us  what  is  truly  Divine  within 
 and  around  us.  And  in  the  same  way  that  we  know  God  in  nature,  we  know 
 the  soul  in  man.  Wc  know  the  soul  by  its  work  in  us  ;  by  the  aspirations 
 that  carry  us  beyond  the  i)ains  and  pleasures  of  bodily  existence  ;  by  the  con- 
 viction known   to  every  unsophisticated  human  being,  that  there  dwells  a 
 
THE  RELIGION  OF  NATURE.  735 
 
 spirit  within  him.  Ikit,  now,  has  this  spirit  any  existence  apart  from  human 
 conditions  ?  does  it  survive  the  body  ?  is  it  immortal  ?  Again  Rousseau 
 answers,  he  does  not  know.  The  indestructible  hope  he  finds  in  himself, 
 iind  in  other  men,  that  the  spirit  that  dwells  within  him  exists  for  some 
 higher  end  than  is  reached  in  the  brief  life  of  man,  constitutes,  he  says,  a 
 stronger  argument  in  favour  of  the  prolonged  existence  of  the  soul  than 
 any  of  the  arguments  that  can  be  set  against  it.  But  this  instinctive  hope 
 furnishes  men  with  no  grounds  for  laying  down  dogmas  concerning  the 
 soul's  immortality.  Religion,  natural  Religion,  Rousseau  concludes,  does 
 not  depend  for  proofs  upon  matters  that  lie  beyond  the  sphere  of  human 
 experience.  It  has  its  evidence  in  nature  and  in  man.  Religion,  then, 
 whilst  it  brings  to  morality  a  sacred  force  and  power,  can  never  contradict 
 morality,  or  outrage  the  instincts  of  humanity,  or  lend  Divine  authority  to 
 doctrines  condemned  by  reason  or  by  conscience.  What  is  more,  no 
 supernatural  revelation  is  needed  to  make  plain  to  men  the  will  of  God, 
 whose  law  is  written  in  their  own  moral  nature.  These  supernatural  reve- 
 lations, Rousseau  declares,  have  never  added  anything  to  our  knowledge 
 of  God.  They  have  served  only  to  disfigure  and  degrade  our  natural  con- 
 ceptions of  Him,  and  so  far  from  helping  to  dispel  the  mystery  that  veils 
 Him,  these  pretended  reve  lations  have  helped  to  envelop  Him  in  clouds 
 and  darkness.  "  What,"  Rousseau  asks,  "  can  supernatural  Religion  do  that 
 natural  Religion  has  not  already  done  ?  Natural  Religion  teaches  men  to 
 love  their  fellow-men,  to  subdue  and  control  their  physical  instincts  by  the 
 higher  impulses  and  desires  of  their  moral  nature.  When  supernatural 
 Religion  does  more  than  this,  it  becomes  mischievous.  It  makes  men  proud, 
 intolerant,  disdainful.  Instead  of  establishing  peace  on  earth,  it  brings  a 
 sword.  Instead  of  uniting  men  of  all  races  in  the  service  and  love  of  God, 
 it  splits  up  men  of  the  same  race  into  different  sects,  and  teaches  them  to 
 hate  and  despise  each  other." 
 
 Here,  then,  you  have  Rousseau's  Religion — or,  if  you  prefer  it,  his  idealism. 
 It  was  no  return  to  the  old  idealism  that  had  its  source  and  fount  of  in- 
 spiration outside  of  nature;  and  that  could  be  reached  only  by  those  who 
 were  willing  to  put  off  nature  and  the  natural  man,  and  to  ascend  in  some 
 garb  of  transformed  feeling  to  the  Divine  Presence.  The  Divine  Presence 
 was  made  manifest  in  nature,  and  those  who  could  not  feel  it  there,  would 
 never  find  it.  As  for  the  Divine  law,  it  was  one  with  the  law  of  man's 
 moral  nature,  and  hence  obedience  to  God  meant,  as  the  Eastern  prophet 
 of  natural  Religion  proclaimed  centuries  ago,  self-government. 
 
 Bnt  Rousseau  himself  felt  and  adored  the  Divine  Presence  in  nature,  and 
 recognised  in  man  a  spiritual  sense  giving  him  a  higher  law  than  the  one 
 of  his  physical  instincts  and  appetites.  Do  these  two  articles  of  faith 
 justify  the  assertion  that  Rousseau  led  a  sentimental  reaction  against  the 
 principles  of  the  Eighteenth-Century  philosophy  ?  No  doubt  many  of  his 
 contemporaries  did  take  this  view,  when  they  found  a  writer  who  had  once 
 been  patronized  by  the  Enc)clopcedists,  opposing  the  dogmatic  materialism 
 
736  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  that  school ;  but  then  this  view  only  proved  the  short-sightedness  of 
 those  who  held  it.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  Eighteenth-Century  philosophy 
 could,  less  than  any  other  philosophy,  exist  upon  a  materialistic  basis  ; 
 because,  deriving  its  authority  from  man,  it  was  sapping  its  own  founda- 
 tions when  it  denied  those  faculties  in  man  on  which  the  worth  of  all  its 
 claims  depended.  The  watchwords  of  this  philosophy  at  starting  had  been 
 freedom  for  thought ;  the  rights  of  the  individual  conscience  ;  the  com- 
 petency of  human  reason  to  decide  all  matters  of  opinion.  But  now,  what 
 became  of  these  superb  claims  put  forward  in  the  name  of  humanity,  if 
 human  beings  were  only  what  Diderot,  Helvetius,  Holbach,  and  all  the 
 school  of  later  philosophers  declared  them  to  be,  mere  animals  ;  a  little 
 higher  by  the  head  than  other  animals,  but  in  no  sense  different  from  other 
 animals  in  their  subjection  to  physical  laws,  and  their  necessary  obedience 
 to  the  impulses  of  selfish  instincts?  If  this  were  so,  and  men  were  in- 
 capable of  regulating  their  own  actions  by  any  higher  law  than  that  of  self- 
 interest,  then  how  could  beings  without  freedom  of  will  claim  the  right, 
 or  the  power,  to  think  freely?  If  man  is  incapable  of  performing  a  dis- 
 interested action,  then  he  is  also  incapable  of  forming  an  impartial  judg- 
 ment. And  thus  all  the  claims  for  intellectual  freedom  fell  to  the  ground, 
 and  the  priests  had  it  their  own  way  when  they  declared  man  by  nature 
 sunk  in  ignorance,  and  only  brought  to  a  knowledge  and  love  of  the 
 truth  by  means  of  the  triple  miracle  of  revelation,  regeneration  and  grace. 
 Again,  how  absurd  to  speak  of  the  rights  of  the  individual  conscience, 
 if  conscience  were  only,  as  Diderot  maintained,  the  result  of  the  accumu- 
 lated experience  of  the  race  concerning  what  actions  and  qualities  are 
 useful,  and  what  injurious,  in  their  results.  If  this  were  so,  then  how  could 
 the  experiences  of  an  individual  have  any  weight  when  compared  with  the 
 experiences  of  the  mass  of  men  ?  and  what  value  had  the  speculations  of  a 
 generation  when  these  contradicted  the  most  cherished  beliefs  of  seven- 
 teen centuries?  So  that  here  again  the  materialists  were  playing  into  the 
 hands  of  the  school  of  authority,  and  preparing  the  way  for  a  reaction  \ 
 whilst  it  was  Rousseau  who  was  in  truth  confirming  and  carrying  to  their 
 logical  conclusions  the  principles  of  the  spiritual  Revolution. 
 
 The  return  to  nature  then  preached  by  Rousseau  was  not  a  return  to 
 brute  nature,  but  to  human  nature.'  By  this  return  to  nature,  no  legiti- 
 mate conquest  of  the  human  spirit  would  be  sacrficed  :  all  that  would  be 
 left  behind  would  be  what  is  unnatural ;  artificial  habits,  acquired  needs, 
 conventional  distinctions  that  divide  men  by  arbitrary  barriers,  conven- 
 tional obligations  that  lay  burthens  on  them  nature  never  appointed, — how 
 much  the  poorer  would  human  life  be  for  the  loss  of  these?  On  the  other 
 hand,  all   ihings  true,  good,  beautiful  and  noble  would  be  grasped  more 
 
 '  "  Is<jusseaii  tlioiiglit  and  talked  about  the  state  of  nature,  because  all  his  world  was 
 thinking  and  talking  about  it,"  says  Mr.  .Morlcy,  vol.  i.,  p.  156.  To  see  how  differently 
 from  his  contemporaries  Rousseau  thought  and  talked  about  nature,  and  a  return  to 
 nature,  compare  with  his  views  those  ot  Saint  Lambert,  given  in  Madame  d'Epinay's 
 Mhitoires,  vol.  i.,  p.  220. 
 
THE  RELIGION  OE  NATURE.  737 
 
 firmly  as  the  result  of  a  return   to  nature  that  would  mean  only  the  veri- 
 fication of  man's  true  possessions.     Religion,  politics,  education,  art,  all 
 these  traced  back  to  their  sources  in  those  sentiments  and  emotions  that 
 are  the  common  gifts  of  mankind,  would  be  regenerated  and  refreshed  by 
 a  renewed  sense  of  their  vital  connection  with  the  indestructible  facts  of 
 human  nature,  and  the  indispensable  needs  of  the  Human  Spirit.     Such  a 
 fulfilment  of  Rousseau's    vision   of  "life  as  it  might  be,"   must  still  be 
 waited  for.     But  it  is  difficult  to-day  to  estimate  the  true  value  and  worth 
 of  what  has  actually  been  accom[)lished  through  his  influence.     Ideas  and 
 tendencies  that  seem  interwoven  with  all  the  active  aspirations  of  modern 
 thought  and  feeling,  are  accepted  as  the  spontaneous  growths  of  the  mind 
 of  to-day  ;  and  "  a  generation  forgetful  of  Rousseau  and  the  Revolution,"  as 
 Michelet  has  it,  has  lost  sight  of  its  obligations  to  the  great-hearted  Prophet, 
 broken-hearted  ere   his  task  was  done,  who,  in  the  days  when   men  were 
 travellers  in  the  desert  of  the  old  world,  smote  the  rock ;  and,  in  a  passion 
 of  anger,  pity  and  love,  gave   the   multitude  to   drink  of  those  waters  of 
 health  that  enabled  them  to  pass  on  to  the  conquest  of  the  Promised  Land, 
 he  himself  beheld  only  as  a  vision. 
 
 Nothing,  of  course,  can  be  easier  than  to  prove  that  the  modern  spirit 
 has  outrun  the  sentiments,  and  modes  of  expression,  of  the  A'ew  Heloise, 
 the  Social  Contract  and  the  Einile,  the  three  great  Works  that  constitute 
 the  "  Gospel  according  to  Jean  Jacques."  Not  the  less  true  is  it  that  these 
 three  Books  have  proved  founts  of  inspiration  to  the  modern  world.  "  Rous- 
 seau"  said  that  eminent  Swiss  critic  known  to  English  readers  as  the  author 
 of  "  Amiel's  Diary,"  "  was  at  ottce  more,  and  less,  than  a  philosopher ;  he  was 
 a  sower  0/  ideas,  a  discoverer  of  sources.  And  observe,"  adds  Amiel,  ''  that  all 
 the  ideas  soion  by  Rousseau  have  come  to  flower.^''  And  this  is  so  true  that  if 
 we  examine  the  whole  field  of  human  life  to-day,  and  ask  ourselves  whence 
 come  the  ideas  and  ideals  that  claim  especially  to  have  borne  fruit  in  the 
 modern  world,  we  shall  find  that  all  these  fruitful  ideas  have  sprung  from 
 some  seed  of  Rousseau's  planting. 
 
 In  Politics,  it  was  Rousseau^  who  first  introduced  moral  elevation  into  that 
 dreary  science,  by  convincing  men  that  right,  and  not  might,  is  the  secure 
 foundation  for  social  order;  and  by  awakening  that  new  conception  of 
 "the  people,"  that  expresses  itself  in  the  mingled  reverence  and  com- 
 passion of  what  is  now  described  as  the  "  democratic  sentiment." 
 
 In  Education, 3  again,  it  was  Rousseau  who  first  liberated  the  Child — that 
 innocent  victim  of  the  doctrine  of  innate  depravity, — from  the  old  peniten- 
 tial system  ;  and  who  in  the  ])lan  sketched  in  the  E/nile  of  an  education 
 that  should  follow,  instead  of  contradicting,  the  method  of  nature,  gave 
 Pestalozzi  and  Froebel  the  first  idea  of  the  Kindergarten,  and  established 
 the  principles  of  all  our  modern  theories  of  education. 
 
 ^   "Ceux    qui  voudraient   trailer  separemeiit  la    politique   et  la    morale  n'entendront 
 jamais  rien  a  aucune  des  deux." — Emile  liv.  iv. 
 
 -'  "La  veritable  education  consiste  moins  eu  preceptes qu'en  exercises." — Emile,  liv.  i. 
 
 VOL.     I. pt.   2.  3  c 
 
738  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 Again,  in  Art  and  Literature,  it  was  Rousseau  who  banished  formal  classi- 
 cism, and  who  introduced  that  true  inspiration  drawn  from  nature  and 
 from  life  that,  after  the  lapse  of  a  century,  still  continues  to  be  the  ani- 
 mating influence  in  the  imaginative  life  of  our  own  day.  In  Religion,  too, 
 in  the  days  when  the  bigot  and  the  atheist  seemed  to  dispute  between  them 
 for  the  possession  of  the  earth  and  sky,  it  was  Rousseau  who  fearlessly  pro- 
 claimed the  modern  faith, — the  faith  that,  whilst  creeds  and  dogmas  vanish, 
 and  all  temples  made  with  hands  must  inevitably  crumble  into  dust,  God 
 still  manifests  Himself  to  those  who  have  eyes  to  see  Him  in  the  magnifi- 
 cent spectacle  of  nature,  still  speaks  to  those  who  will  hear  His  voice  in 
 the  higher  instincts  and  aspirations  of  man. 
 
739 
 
 HUMANITY. 
 
 Bv  Frederic  Harrison. 
 
 It  now  becomes  my  duty,  in  the  course  of  this  series  of  addresses  on  the 
 Rehgious  Systems  of  the  World,  to  i)resent  to  you — not  Positivism  as  a 
 system — but  the  simple  idea  of  Humanity  as  a  centre  of  spiritual  activity 
 and  faith. 
 
 I  feel  myself,  in  the  company  of  the  learned  men  who  have  preceded 
 me  in  this  course,  under  no  small  disadvantage  and  difficulty.  They  have 
 all  represented  some  type  of  theology  or  of  transcendentalism;  they  all 
 deal  with  a  superhuman  and  extra-mundane  world,  assuming  that  there  is 
 no  possible  centre  of  spiritual  life,  but  in  the  conception  of  a  Creator,  of 
 some  spirit  of  the  universe,  of  some  mystical  force  neither  comparable  to 
 Man  nor  akin  to  Man.  They  speak  of  gods,  of  revelation,,  of  heaven,  of 
 an  eternity  of  consciousness,  wherein  this  earthly  life  is  to  be  a  mere 
 trivial  moment  of  time. 
 
 I  can  claim  none  of  these  grounds  of  confidence  and  hope.  The  only 
 centre  of  spiritual  life  of  which  I  have  any  assurance  is  to  be  found  on 
 earth  ;  the  only  revelation  that  I  can  announce  is  that  which  is  to  be 
 gathered  from  science,  physical  and  moral,  cosmical  and  social.  And  my 
 heaven  is  here.  It  is  often  asked,  "  How  can  we  talk  of  religion  at  all, 
 and  what  meaning  has  the  term  Spiritual  Life,  or  Soul,  or  Immortality,  in 
 a  human  and  a  mundane  system  ?"  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  who  hold  to 
 it  have  in  many  ways  a  sympathy,  both  deep  and  real,  with  the  essential 
 ideas  and  the  spiritual  aims  of  many  of  the  creeds,  of  all  of  the  living 
 Churches,  I  would  say.  On  the  bill  which  announces-  these  lectures  I  read 
 the  words  of  the  Persian  poet :  "The  object  of  all  Religions  is  alike. 
 All  men  seek  their  beloved  ;  and  all  the  world  is  love's  dwelling." 
 Heartily  do  I  re-echo  these  words.  The  inner  object  of  all  Religions  is 
 alike.  All  men  seek  in  Religion  the  highest  ideal  of  love.  And  the 
 highest  ideal  of  love  that  I  know  does  truly  dwell  in  the  world  and  is 
 found  everywhere  in  the  world. 
 
 That  which  marks  off  the  Positive  scheme  of  life  from  all  the  known 
 Religions  in  the  past  or  in  the  present  is  this  :  that  it  seeks  to  found  its 
 creed  exclusively  on  what  maybe  proved  by  strict  scientific  reasoning  — 
 by  the  same  logical  processes  by  which  we  calculate  the  orbit  of  a  comet, 
 or  explain  the  origin  of  a  political  revolution.  That  is  to  say,  its  whole 
 religious  scheme  lies  within  the  field  of  natural  and  social  science,  as 
 accepted  by  competent  minds  in  the  present  day. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  that  which  marks   off  the  Positive  scheme  from  all 
 
740  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 jHirely  scientific  systems  of  thought  is  this  :  that  it  makes  religion  the 
 beginning  and  end  of  life,  seeking  to  inspire  every  corner  of  life  with  a 
 living  sense  of  devotion  to  an  over-ruling  Providence.  That  is  to  say, 
 its  essential  spirit  is  entirely  in  line  with  the  spiritual  aim  of  the  known 
 Religions  of  mankind,  and  is  in  direct  contrast  with  all  the  Agnostic, 
 Atheist,  Materialist,  and  Indifferentist  types  of  thought,  which  treat  human 
 nature  as  well  able  to  go  on  without  definite  Religion  of  any  kind,  and 
 have  nothing  to  say  about  Spiritual  Life,  or  Devotion,  or  Providence  at 
 all. 
 
 Religion  and  Science  have  hitherto  stood  in  hopeless  antagonism,  not- 
 withstanding a  thousand  hollow  truces  and  vexhB\  for »i nice  of  reconciliation. 
 Religion,  in  all  its  hitherto  known  types,  bases  its  creed  on  something 
 other  than  Science,  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word.  In  these  latter 
 days  theological  Religion  often  assures  us  that  it  has  no  feud  with  Science, 
 that  it  accepts  science  (in  its  own  place) — but  that  place  is  not  in  its 
 creeds,  formularies,  scriptures,  or  sermons.  Science,  admitting  as  it  often 
 does,  that  Religion  has  its  own  place  and  proper  methods  of  seeking  truth, 
 treats  theology  as  a  sphere  of  knowledge  sui generis,  the  canons  and  aims 
 of  which  lie  entirely  outside  of  scientific  demonstration,  inductive  proof, 
 and  of  anything  properly  described  as  the  science  of  Nature  and  of 
 Man. 
 
 Now  the  meaning  of  the  Religion  of  Humanity  is  simply  this:  that  the 
 science  of  Nature  and  of  Man,  duly  concentrated  on  the  development  of 
 human  life  on  earth,  itself  forms  a  complete,  real,  and  living  Religion,  at 
 once  spiritual  and  scientific. 
 
 It  was  the  great  conception  of  Auguste  Comte- — simply  consolidating 
 ideas  which  had  been  gathering  form  for  a  century— that  the  Humanity, 
 which  for  generations  had  been  the  real  inspiration  of  all  great  spirits  and 
 the  object  of  all  the  noblest  human  effort,  afforded  the  common  ground 
 of  union  between  Science  and  Religion.  And  he  showed  us  how,  in  this 
 new  centre  of  belief  and  of  duty.  Religion  might  find  its  creed  in  Science, 
 and  Science  might  find  its  crown  in  Religion  ;  neither  of  the  two  sacrificing 
 anything,  but  both  uniting  in  one  work. 
 
 Thus  Positivism  supplies  what  is  at  once  Scientific  Religion  and  Religious 
 Science,  according  as  we  look  at  it  from  the  point  of  view  of  emotion  or 
 of  reflection. 
 
 Captious  objections  are  often  taken  to  this  use  of  the  terms,  Religion, 
 Spiritual  Life,  Worship,  Soul,  and  so  forth.  It  is  said  that  Religion  implies 
 a  Creator,  the  relation  of  man  in  some  form  to  the  Universe,  and  an 
 explanation  of  its  origin.  That  Spiritual  Life  means  the  activity  of  an 
 immortal  and  transcendental  spirit,  that  Soul  means  an  immaterial  entity, 
 detachable  from  a  human  body,  and  ([uite  capable  of  conscious  thought 
 and  feeling,  without  any  tangible  substratum  of  matter  whatever.  That 
 Worship  is  tV.c  adoration  of  the  Unseen  and  supernatural  Creator  of  the 
 Universe  and  of  Him  alone. 
 
HUMANITY.  7411' 
 
 That  is  a  mere  question  of  words.  And  even  if  Positivists  were  using: 
 words  in  a  new  sense,  they  would  have  a  right  to  do  so,  if  they  made  it 
 clear  what  that  sense  was. 
 
 Religion,  in  its  widest  sense,  means  the  combination  of  belief  in,  and 
 veneration  for,  the  Power  which  man  regards  as  exercising  the  dominant 
 influence  over  his  whole  life.     In   the  theological  epochs  or  systems  this 
 has  usually  been  taken   to  mean  some  kind  of  god.     Bat  the   idea  of  a 
 god  is  not  an  essential  part  of  religion.     The  essence  of  Religion  lies  in 
 ihe   belief  in  a  power  which  dominates  man's  life,  and  determines  it  for 
 good  or  for  bad — such  belief  strong  enough  to  generate  veneration  for 
 that   Power  and  habitual   submission  to   what  is  thought  to  be  its  will. 
 The  Confucianism  of  China  is  a  real  religion  ;  but  it  is  a  frank  worship  of 
 the  visible  Heaven  and  the  tangible  Earth.     All  the  forms  of  Astrolatry, 
 the  Sun-worship,  Star-worship,  Fire-worship,  all  the  many  varieties  of  Nature- 
 worship,  where  the  idea  of  a  special  immanent  God  is  not  yet  developed, 
 are   all    forms  of  worship  of  a  Power  which  is  neither  a  Person  nor  a 
 Spirit.     Buddhism,  Taoism,  Shintoism,  were  types  of  the  religious   senti- 
 ment directed  to  an  object  which  was  not  a  personal  God.     The  primeval 
 religions  of  Assyria,  Persia,  Egypt,  India,  Greece  and  Rome,  the  various 
 Fetish  Religions  of  Africa,  of  Polynesia,  and  America,  were  all  forms  of 
 worship  without  any  thought  of  a  single  Creator  in  the  Christian  sense. 
 It  is   only  in  certain  parts  of  Asia  and  Europe,  and   in  a  few  ages  of 
 theology,   Jewish,   Christian,  or  Mahometan,  that  Religion  has  ever  im- 
 l^licd  belief  in  a  Creator ;  for  the  vast  masses  of  mankind,  and  for  the 
 great   bulk  of  the  ages,  religion  has  meant  the  reverence  man  pays  to  the 
 Powers  which  he  thinks  dominate  his  life. 
 
 So  too  the  term  soul  means  the  sum  of  a  man's   noblest  feeling  and 
 
 energy ;  even  theologians  so  use  it,  as  in  the  morning  hymn  : — 
 
 "  Awake,  my  soul,  and  with  the  sun 
 Thy  daily  stage  of  duty  run.'' 
 
 Here  Soul  means  the  energies  of  heart,  mind,  and  body  ;  for,  of  course, 
 the  immaterial,  eternal  entity  does  not  need  the  refreshment  of  sleep. 
 
 So  spiritual  life,  worship,  are  now  commonly  associated  with  a  par- 
 ticular theory  of  the  human  organism  and  of  the  origin  of  the  world. 
 But  in  themselves  these  venerable  words  really  mean — Man's  yearnings 
 about  the  critical  ends  of  his  existence,  and  Man's  expression  of  veneration 
 for  what  he  feels  to  be  the  noblest  being  in  the  world. 
 
 Language  is  broader  and  older  than  any  philosophic  theory  ;  and  these 
 fine  old  terms  are  not  to  be  cut  down  to  suit  a  particular  school  of  opinion. 
 May  we  not  speak  of  chivalry,  enthusiasm,  or  inspiration,  unless  we  are 
 thinking  of  knights  in  armour,  or  the  divine  afflatus  of  some  god  ?  The 
 real  question  is  not  as  to  the  derivation  or  linguistic  history  of  particular 
 terms,  but  whether  spiritual  life  be,  or  be  not,  a  permanent  fact  in  man's 
 nature  ;  and  if  it  be,  what  can  be  its  meaning  for  us  ? 
 
 The  bulk  of  the  schools,  which  take  their  stand  on  science,  either  flatly 
 
742  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 condemn  spiritual  life  as  a  mischievous  sentimentalism,  or  else  give  it 
 the  go-by  with  some  half-sincere,  conventional  phrase.  We  must  always 
 distrust  a  philosophy  which  cannot  make  up  its  mind  about  the  greatest 
 •of  all  problems  ;  and  especially  must  we  distrust  the  scheme  of  thought, 
 •which,  offering  a  mere  lip-homage  to  the  central  ideas  of  Theology,  finds  no 
 place  for  them  in  its  own  synthesis,  and  has  only  a  few  vague  phrases  to 
 suggest  in  respect  to  them. 
 
 But  it  can  be  shown  that  spiritual  life  is  a  permanent  factor  in  human 
 existence.  Our  deepest  thoughts  about  human  nature  bring  us  always 
 back  to  this — Here  am  I,  here  are  millions  apparently  such  as  I,  set  like 
 motes  in  the  sunbeam,  surrounded  by  a  vast  environment  of  circum- 
 stance ;  distinct  from  it,  yet  unable  to  exist  without  it,  able  to  influence 
 it  up  to  a  certain  point  and  under  certain  conditions,  and  influenced  by 
 it  perpetually.  What  is  it — this  environment — of  what  nature,  under  whose 
 control  ?  Does  any  invisible  Power  behind  it  feel  or  care  for  me  ?  How 
 can  1  make  myself  secure  in  presence  of  a  Force  so  gigantic,  so  ubiquitous, 
 so  changeable,  so  mysterious  ?  And  if  I  perish  in  the  struggle,  is  the 
 grave  the  end  of  my  strivings  and  my  sufferings,  of  my  hopes  and  fears  ? 
 In  one  word,  what  is  the  relation  of  Man  to  the  World  in  which  he  finds 
 himself,  apparently  and  at  times,  as  helpless  as  a  new-born  babe? 
 
 Science  and  Philosophy,  which  have  nothing  definite  to  say  on  all  this, 
 are  retiring  from  their  true  task,  and  cannot  hold  men's  minds  very  long. 
 The  .instinct  of  all  good  men  and  women  pronounces  a  man  without  any 
 genuine  religion — to  whom  the  relation  of  man  to  the  world  is  a  question 
 that  must  be  thrust  aside — to  be  a  source  of  danger  and  corruption  to 
 his  fellow- men  and  the  society  in  which  he  lives,  for  to  harden  one's 
 mental  habit  into  this  indifferentism  is  anti-social,  shallow,  materialist,  or 
 indolent. 
 
 Let  us  see  what  answer  modern  Philosophy  can  make  to  the  eternal 
 question  : — What  is  the  ultimate  relation  of  man  to  the  world  around  him, 
 and  what  his  duty  to  his  fellow-men,  and  to  himself? 
 
 Down  to  this  century,  and  for  a  hundred  centuries  before,  the  divisions 
 and  complexity  of  the  human  race  had  hidden  out  of  sigiit  the  dignity 
 and  the  unity  of  Humanity. 
 
 And,  moreover,  man,  who  had  given  a  thousand  answers  to  the  cpies- 
 tion,  What  is  the  supreme  power  over  my  life?  had  always  sought  for  some 
 absolute  Power.  By  absolute,  is  meant  a  Power  co-extensive  with  the 
 Universe,  one  which  dominated  all  men  and  all  things  without  limit  or 
 condition.  Religion  in  a  thousand  fornis  has  gone  on  repeating,  What  is 
 the  Supreme  Power  over  me,  and  all  men,  and  all  things?  What  is  the 
 will  of  this  Supreme  Power?  How  can  I  please  him?  how  can  I  get  his 
 blessing? 
 
 The  Positive  philosophy,  as  a  whole,  summed  up  the  secular  controversy 
 by  a  word  :  "  It  is  a  metaphysical  assumption  that  there  is  any  Absolute 
 Supreme   Power,  dominant  at  once  over  you,  and  all  mankind,  and  all 
 
HUMANITY.  743 
 
 things.  We  cannot  prove  the  contrary ;  but  we  cannot  prove  the  asser- 
 tion ;  and,  with  our  finite  and  relative  powers  of  mind,  it  is  unphilosophical 
 to  try  to  prove  the  existence  of  an  infinite  or  absolute  Existence,  seeing 
 that  we  cannot  conceive  what  it  means,  except  by  negations  which  lead  to 
 nothing." 
 
 You  yourself  have  power  over  many  things  here  and  ttiere.  Mankind 
 has  vast  power  over  many  things  everywhere.  Mankind  has  a  vaster  and 
 a  nobler  power  over  you  than  all  other  things  put  together.  And  you  can 
 work  with  mankind,  and  live  with  mankind,  in  a  way  that  you  cannot  with 
 inorganic  things.  And  you  can  feel  and  show  a  gratitude  to  the  sum  of 
 mankind,  as  you  cannot  feel  or  show  to  the  sum  of  the  world  around  you. 
 Again,  much  of  you  yourself  is  good  and  noble.  Far  more  in  mankind 
 around  you  is  good  and  noble.  But  much,  very  much,  in  the  world  around 
 you  is  cruel,  wasteful,  terrible,  antipathetic. 
 
 Humanity  in  the  sum,  abstracting  all  its  errors,  failures,  and  waste,  is 
 greater,  nobler,  wiser,  more  akin  to  you  than  the  world.  Theology,  in 
 spite  of  its  dogmas  of  human  depravity,  dogmas  which  remind  one  of  a 
 parent  scolding  a  child,  always  admitted  this.  For  it  conceived  the  ad- 
 mission (on  terms,  be  it  said)  of  every  human  soul  into  heaven,  whilst  it 
 never  conceived  that  a  tree,  or  a  rock,  or  a  flash  of  lightning,  could  ever 
 inherit  Paradise. 
 
 Humanity  is  different  from  the  physical  world  around  us,  as  is  each 
 human  soul.  It  can  transform  the  world,  escape  from  it,  use  it,  enslave  it 
 — but  always  within  limits  and  on  condition,  whilst  remaining  utterly  de- 
 pendent on  it  for  bare  life,  and  for  everything  which  it  has.  Thus,  said 
 Auguste  Comte,  merely  condensing  the  wave  of  enthusiasm  and  inspira- 
 tion which  swept  over  Europe  in  the  eighteenth  century,  the  Supreme  Power 
 over  your  life,  which  for  thousands  of  years  men  have  searched  for  in  the 
 skies,  is  here,  on  earth,  beside  you,  and  of  you ;  it  is  heard  in  the  whisper 
 of  husband  and  wife  in  love,  of  mother  and  child,  in  the  word  of  friend, 
 teacher,  leader,  and  chief;  it  is  in  the  boundless  past  of  history,  and  the 
 undreamed  ages  to  come ;  it  is  in  every  true  deed,  and  in  the  still  small 
 voice  within  you. 
 
 Only,  it  is  in  no  absolute  sense  supreme  ;  in  no  literal  sense  mighty,  or 
 wise,  or  good.  It  has  not  created  the  world ;  it  does  not  control  the 
 world ;  it  is  not  responsible  for  the  world,  with  its  terrible  waste  and  ruin. 
 
 Humanity,  though  the  vastest  and  the  noblest  organism  of  which  we 
 have  any  sure  apprehension,  is  itself  dependent  on  the  world,  on  the  earth 
 where  it  dwells,  and  the  heaven  where  it  breathes.  It  cannot  add  one 
 minute  to  the  day,  or  draw  one  cloud  from  the  sky ;  it  is  as  an  infant 
 before  the  storm,  and  a  waif  in  the  earthquake.  But  though  it  cannot 
 stem  or  guide  the  forces  of  Nature,  it  can  adapt  them,  avoid  them,  and 
 make  them  its  servant. 
 
 It  is  impossible  to  doubt  the  reality  of  this  great  Organism,  or  to  with- 
 draw from  its  sphere,  or  cease  to  join  in  its  collective  life.     Even  Robinson 
 
744  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 Crusoe  only  lived  as  an  intelligent  being  on  the  waifs  and  strays  of  civili- 
 zation which  he  brought  with  him  from  the  wreck.  Of  any  Supreme  Being, 
 paramount  at  once  over  the  Moral  Sphere  and  over  the  Physical  Sphere, 
 we  can  say  nothing  positive.  There  may  be  such  a  Being  ;  as  Comte  says, 
 there  may  be  such  a  Being  in  our  solar  system,  or  what  we  call  the  Solar 
 System  may  be  such  a  Being.  But  our  scientific  certainty  cannot  grasp  it, 
 if  there  be.  Our  minds  seem  cast  in  an  unalterably  dual  mould — body  and 
 mind  side  by  side,  neither  to  be  resolved  into  the  other.  The  human  ami 
 the  material  world  confront  us  in  every  aspect,  our  whole  field  of  know- 
 ledge being  grouped  into  correlations  of  object  and  subject,  of  observation 
 and  meditation,  of  law  and  will,  of  action  and  passion,  necessity  and 
 freedom,  morality  and  its  inexorable  conditions. 
 
 Henceforth,  then,  with  this  eternal  Dualism  in  human  life,  this  per- 
 petual play  of  Function  and  Organism,  of  Organism  and  Environment,  of 
 action  and  limitation,  of  difficulty  and  duty,  of  knowledge  and  obstacle — 
 that  is  of  correlation  everywhere — let  us  desist  from  the  vain  search  after 
 one  Supreme  Power,  dominant  over  Man  and  Nature,  the  moral  and  the 
 physical  world,  and  at  last  recognise  that  there  stand  before  us  not  one 
 great  Force,  but  two  Forces,  the  World  and  Humanity. 
 
 First,  is  the  World  :  imposing  fixed  and  unalterable  conditions  on  man, 
 not  being  itself  moral,  and  apparently  not  guided  by  moral  feeling  at  all ; 
 neither  itself  omniscient,  and  apparently  not  guided  by  omniscience  ;  so 
 far  as  we  can  see,  not  at  all  benevolent  to  us,  and  yet  not  malevolent,  but 
 feeding  us  or  crushing  us  with  the  same  calm  indifference. 
 
 Next  is  humanity — nobly  submitting  to  these  limits,  exerting  glorious 
 intelligence  and  energy  in  modifying  them  ;  but  really  akin  to  us,  moral, 
 benevolent,  as  well  as  beneficent ;  raising  us,  whilst  it  raises  itself,  in  com- 
 parison with  each  fleeting  mortal,  eternal,  and  immortal ;  in  comparison 
 with  each  individual  unit,  of  boundless  sagacity,  power,  and  goodness  ;  for 
 ever  caring  for  us  and  sustaining  us,  whatever  we  may  do ;  practically, 
 whatever  we  may  think  of  it,  an  idealized  Mother  of  us  all,  and  more  than 
 human  Father  of  us  all. 
 
 No  scepticism  or  cynicism  can  get  rid  of  this,  if  we  think  it  out.  The 
 most  bitter  misanthrope,  the  most  noisy  satirist  of  human  nature,  can  only 
 live,  act,  think,  or  speak,  by  the  aid  of  the  various  products,  achievements, 
 and  appliances  of  civilization,  which,  if  he  discard,  he  becomes  a  raving 
 lunatic. 
 
 This,  then,  is  the  positive  answer  to  the  problem  of  life.  The  kingdom 
 of  Humanity  is  within  you,  and  within  all  men.  The  great  B^ing,  whom 
 to  love  is  to  serve,  and  whom  to  know  is  to  worship,  has  been  within  us 
 all  from  the  first  dawn  of  human  life  on  the  planet.  Serve  him  by  living 
 aright.  He,  like  ourselves,  is  subject  to  the  world  we  live  in.  But  his 
 dignity,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  consist  in  his  ordering  his  life  in  due  rela- 
 tion to  this  world  and  its  laws.  And  what,  then,  is  the  will  of  this  great 
 Power,  but,  in  no  absolute  or  theological  sense,  Supreme  Power  ?     What 
 
HUMANITY.  is;^ 
 
 can  it  ])e,  but  the  law  of  his  own  being  which  is  only  the  vaster  and  fuller 
 expression  of  the  law  of  our  own  being,  a  right  life  in  accordance  with  the 
 intellectual  laws,  the  industrial  laws,  the  physical  laws,  the  statical  and  his- 
 torical laws  of  human  society,  as  revealed  by  the  entirety  of  science. 
 
 The  revelation,  the  inspiration,  the  incarnation  so  long  and  passionately 
 dreamed  of  by  the  religious  souls  of  men  through  such  a  long  vista  of 
 ages,  are  realized  at  last.  The  true  revelation  of  the  will  of  the  great 
 Being  is  science  itself  Human  genius  and  love  is  that  Inspiration.  The 
 sum  of  demonstrated  Law  is  the  Gospel.  The  Bible  of  the  Hebrews,  the 
 Gospel  of  Christ  and  of  Paul,  becomes  a  real,  but  a  simple,  part  of  the  true 
 Gospel.  There  is  no  one  Book  of  the  Law.  All  great  books  alike  reveal 
 the  Law.  All  great  thinkers  and  teachers,  all  true  workers  and  rulers 
 have  been  inspired.  There  is  no  single  incarnation  of  the  son  of  a  car- 
 penter and  a  maiden  of  Judah.  Humanity  is  incarnate  in  all  great  men  in 
 a  supreme  degree  ;  it  is  incarnate  in  every  worthy  man  and  woman  alike ; 
 every  son  of  Humanity,  who  does  not  repudiate  his  birthright,  is  the  son 
 of  Man,  is  a  Christ,  is  or  may  be,  the  Messiah,  of  some  honest  family  or 
 home  ;  every  true  daughter  of  Humanity  is,  at  least  in  nature,  the  mother 
 or  the  sister  of  some  Christ  to  be, — is  herself  a  transfigured  type  of 
 Humanity  itself 
 
 The  will  of  our  Great  Being  is  a  true  and  useful  life  in  accordance  with 
 a  wise  education  in  all  essential  knowledge.  The  law  of  our  religion  is  the 
 law  expounded  in  the  sum  of  science.  The  personality  of  our  Highest  is 
 typified  in  the  best  and  wisest  of  mankind,  and  is  summed  up  in  one  great 
 ideal  of  Humanity.  The  worship  of  this  Being  is  the  development  of 
 human  life  in  all  its  phases,  the  fusing  through  every  vein  of  all  that  is 
 pure,  bright,  and  generous. 
 
 But  this,  it  is  sometimes  said,  is  only  the  Christian  religion,  at  least  in 
 the  broad,  undogmatic,  and  comprehensive  form  which  it  is  wont  to  take 
 in  the  hands  of  modern  teachers,  who  are  not  bound  by  the  formularies, 
 articles,  and  churches  of  the  past.  This  is  quite  true  ;  but  this  broad  Neo- 
 Christianity  is  always  most  purposely  vague,  and  is  often  most  uncandidly 
 mysterious.  It  adopts  the  language  of  Humanity,  whilst  professing  a 
 nominal  loyalty  to  all  kinds  of  superhuman  figments  and  conventions. 
 Our  Positive  creed  is,  in  spiritual  essence  and  meaning,  in  harmony  with 
 the  best  religious  spirit  of  those  followers  of  Christ  who  dwell  more  on  the 
 Humanity  than  the  Godhead  of  Christ,  and  to  whom  the  brotherhood  of 
 the  human  race  is  more  definite  and  important  than  the  creation  of  the 
 Universe,  or  the  attributes  of  the  Trinity. 
 
 But  then  our  Positive  creed  is  a  religious  scheme  which  definitely  rests 
 from  beginning  to  end  on  real  scientific  bases,  which  is  not  a  medley  of 
 natural  and  supernatural,  of  the  certain  and  the  hypothetical,  of  earth  and 
 the  universe,  the  known  limitations  of  man  on  earth,  and  the  infinite  pos- 
 sibilities of  an  absolute  and  incomprehensible  Omniscience.  Our  Positive 
 creed  is  truly  the  best  religious  spirit  which  survives  others   in   the  nine- 
 
746  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 teenth  century,  made  rational  and  limited  to  fact,  and  mitius  dreams  about 
 superhuman  worlds  of  which  we  know  nothing  and  can  guess  anything  ; 
 fiiinus  the  narrow  superstition  that  would  limit  inspiration  to  one  race,  one 
 epoch,  one  type  of  human  goodness  ;  minus  the  extravagance  which  would 
 turn  history  upside  down  by  interpolating  a  supposed  god  into  the  very 
 middle  of  human  evolution  ;  and  especially  tninus  the  degrading  and  in- 
 human nonsense  about  Hell,  Devil,  Damnation,  Fall,  Atonement,  Chosen 
 People,  Vicarious  Sacrifice,  Predestination,  Wrath  of  God,  and  Special 
 Providence. 
 
 Get  rid  of  all  this  rubbish,  and  everything  to  which  it  leads  up  and  on 
 which  it  rests,  and  we  shall  at  last  have  a  real  religion,  retaining  the  spirit- 
 ual yearnings  which  these  figments  of  ignorant  priests  were  devised  to 
 satisfy. 
 
 The  Broad  Church,  however  Broad,  even  when  vaporized  away  till  it 
 becomes  a  thin  spectral  Theism,  flavoured  with  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
 never  can  frankly  throw  overboard  the  fundamental  bases  of  all  Gospel 
 teaching,  which  rest  on  the  Wrath  of  God  and  Personal  Salvation  by 
 Divine  Grace.  All  this  makes  an  imposing  scheme  for  a  City  of  God,  a 
 Divine  Comedy,  or  a  Paradise  Lost,  but  is  utterly  incompatible  with  Science, 
 History,  and  positive  Ethics. 
 
 But,  it  is  sometimes  asked.  Is  this  collective  Humanity  a  real  thing  ? 
 Men,  saturated  with  the  unintelligible  formulce  of  metaphysicians  and  theo- 
 logians, taught  to  think  of  the  object  of  their  worship  as  an  unthinkable 
 assemblage  of  negative  attributes,  ask  us — if  Humanity  is  real?  Real  !  Is  a 
 family  a  real  thing?  Is  the  English  nation  real  ?  or  the  Anglo-Saxon  race? 
 Are  these  abstractions?  What  more  do  we  mean  by  collective  abstrac- 
 tion, except  the  abstract  or  mental  association  of  a  number  of  real  persons 
 who  act  together,  in  real  ways,  and  who  will  continue  to  act  together,  talk 
 one  tongue,  believe  in  their  common  origin,  share  common  ideas,  and  form 
 an  organic  society  of  some  kind. 
 
 In  one  sense  Humanity  is  far  more  real  than  family,  nation,  or  race, 
 because  it  is  a  permanent  and  not  a  temporary  association  ;  one  which,  so 
 far  as  we  can  see,  will  co-exist  with  the  liabitable  conditions  of  tlie  planet 
 (and  for  practical  purposes  these  are  sufficiently  stable)  ;  it  is  a  society 
 which  visibly  grows  more  united  and  organic  ;  and  of  which  the  power 
 over  nature  is  increasing  with  wonderful  strides. 
 
 Humanity  is  more  real  than  any  individual,  because  Humanity  suffices 
 for  itself,  and  can  live,  and  does  live,  a  life  of  its  own.  But  no  individual 
 really  lives  a  life  of  his  own,  or  could  survive  a  week  absolutely  by  him- 
 self, or  can  look  forward  to  more  than  a  few  precarious  years  of  conscious 
 activity.  Humanity  is  certainly  real,  if  it  is  composed  wholly  of  real 
 persons,  lives  a  real  life,  and  effects  real  things.  It  is  difficult  to  under- 
 stand the  state  of  mind  which  rejects  humanity  as  ana/fs/raciio//,  and  clings 
 to  God  because  He  is  rea/.  In  what  sense  can  Humanity  be  called  an 
 abstraction,  if  God  is  not  an  abstraction  ?     Is  the  crew  of  a  ship  that  sails 
 
HUMANITY.  747 
 
 round  the  world  all  working  and  living  together  an  abstraction,  or  a  regi- 
 ment of  soldiers,  or  the  Catholic  Church  ?  None  of  these  are  Persons, 
 nor  are  they  (physically  speaking)  tangible  organisms.  But  they  are  all 
 social  organisms  :  made  up  of  persons,  the  tangible  organisms  which  we 
 see,  in  part,  visibly  co-operating  to  a  perceptible  result,  and  which,  in  part, 
 we  know  to  have  social  succession  and  mental  and  moral  filiation  of  im- 
 pulses and  ideas.  And  this  real  organic  assemblage  of  human  lives  is 
 thought  by  some  people  to  be  a  phrase  of  logic  when  compared  with  the 
 reality  of  an  Absolute  Omnipotence,  whom  the  metaphysicians  assure  us, 
 in  and  out  of  the  pulpit,  must  be  regarded  as  an  unthinkable  assemblage 
 of  negative  attrilmtes,  each  contradicting  one  another  ! 
 
 Where  you  have  a  body  of  real  persons  working  together  and  effecting 
 real  things,  having  a  succession  of  aims  and  ideas,  carrying  on  one  common 
 scheme  for  centuries,  where,  as  with  the  Catholic  Church  or  the  English 
 nation,  you  can  write  its  history  over  a  thousand  years,  and  trace  the  laws 
 of  its  growth,  development,  decay  or  disturbances — there  you  have  a  real 
 power,  around  which  a  complete  body  of  sympathies  and  beliefs,  hopes 
 and  faiths,  can  engraft  themselves  and  grow. 
 
 What  more  is  wanted  for  the  basis  of  a  religion  ?  Some  people  say  an 
 Almighty  God.  But  why  an  Almighty  God,  if  the  history  of  mankind 
 shows  that  this  idea  is  only  a  partial  and  a  very  late  development  of  the 
 religious  imagination  ?  And  if  it  can  be  shown  that  the  highest  and 
 strongest  effects  of  religion  have  often  been  called  forth  by  other  and  more 
 practical  and  human  types  of  power  ? 
 
 It  is  sometimes  said  that  worship  implies  a  Person.  That  may  be  true- 
 of  worship  in  the  technical  and  arbitrary  sense  which  it  has  acquired  in 
 modern  theology.  But  if  no  one  pretends  or  seeks  to  adore  Humanity, 
 if  the  only  worship  intended  is  a  lively  sense  of  gratitude  and  respect,  and 
 a  practical  desire  to  live  and  die  in  its  cause,  then  Humanity  is  an  adequate 
 object  of  a  rational  and  practical  devotion.  Men  have  lived  and  died  for 
 their  country,  their  republic,  their  Church,  their  city,  their  tribe,  and  no 
 theological  faith  has  ever  inspired  a  more  passionate  devotion  and  a  more 
 intense  love  than  has  Country  and  Cause  in  certain  epochs.  A  cause,  a 
 community,  in  the  future  of  which  you  believe,  towards  which  your  soul  is 
 filled  with  gratitude  and  affection,  for  the  sake  of  which  you  are  ready  to 
 give  effort,  and  to  sacrifice  even  life  itself,  is  all  that  men  need  as  an  object 
 of  real  and  manly  devotion. 
 
 Perhaps  not  of  such  devotion  as  makes  the  Catholic  mystic  water  his  cell 
 with  tears,  and  waste  his  life  in  genuflexions ;  or  of  such  devotion  as  leads 
 the  Calvinist  bigot  to  condemn  his  own  child  in  thought  to  eternal  tor- 
 ment, because  he  has  his  own  opinion  as  to  an  old  Hebrew  story-book  ; 
 perhaps  not  of  devotion  such  as  this.  But  we  want  no  such  devotion.  All 
 that  we  want  is  the  manly  but  enthusiastic  will  to  do  honour  to  the  true 
 Country  or  the  just  Cause. 
 
 And  Humanity  is  the  grandest  of  all  causes,  the  vastest  and  most  per- 
 
748  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 manent  of  all  communities,  the  great  country  of  all  nations  and  all  races. 
 It  is  sometimes  said  that  Humanity,  with  all  its  imperfections,  weakness, 
 and  corruptions  is  an  impossible  object  of  genuine  respect.  Of  such 
 adoration  and  prostration  as  is  paid  to  Perfect  Omnipotence  it  might  be. 
 But  no  such  adoration  or  prostration  is  asked  for,  and  none  such  is  hence- 
 forth of  moral  service  to  man. 
 
 We  owe  duty  and  gratitude  to  p:irents,  to  family,  cause,  and  country, 
 though  we  know  them  all  to  be  faulty  and  inadequate  in  many  ways  and 
 in  many  things.  Is  our  gratitude  and  our  devotion  to  our  country  dried 
 up  when  we  discover  bad  men  amongst  us  and  errors  committed  by  our 
 fellow-countrymen  ?  Does  patriotism  necessarily  mean  "  Our  country  right 
 or  wrong  !  "  From  a  relative  stand-point,  absolute  conditions  of  human 
 sentiment  are  as  morally  injurious  as  they  are  intellectually  feeble.  We 
 are  human  froni  birth  to  the  grave  ;  and  our  human  development  should 
 be  frankly  trained  on  human  ideals  to  a  human  standard  of  merit,  if  not 
 of  perfection. 
 
 It  is  said,  too,  that  science  gives  us  no  positive  assurance  of  an  abso- 
 lute eternity  of  the  human  race.  Of  no  absolute  eternity,  it  may  be.  But 
 for  practical  purposes  100,000  years  are  as  good  as  eternity — at  least  they 
 arc  forty  times  the  period  within  which  civilization  has  existed  in  Europe, 
 and  history  has  begun,  and  they  are  five  or  six  times  the  period  over  which 
 we  have  any  record  of  the  human  race  as  such.  Those  who  crave  the 
 empty  satisfaction  of  an  unimaginable  eternity,  must  satisfy  it  by  any 
 fancies  that  they  please,  remembering  that  knowledge  cannot  grasp  eternity. 
 For  the  manly  conduct  of  life,  indefinite  duration  is  all  that  a  healthy 
 mind  can  seek. 
 
 How  cynical  should  we  think  it  if  a  man  told  us  that  he  could  not  feel 
 any  interest  in  his  family,  because  a  few  generations  would  probably  bring 
 it  to  an  end  ;  if  he  could  feel  no  affection  for  his  father,  because  in  a  few 
 years  it  would  be  a  mere  memory ;  if  a  man  were  to  sneer  at  patriotism, 
 because  in  a  few  centuries  the  New  Zealand  traveller  would  be  sitting  on 
 the  ruins  of  London  Bridge,  ^^'c  should  feci  all  such  gibes  to  be  the 
 proof  of  a  narrow  mind  and  a  cold  heart.  Humanity  is  practically  immortal 
 when  contrasted  with  man,  family,  country,  or  race.  We  kno-w  of  nothing 
 that  can  kill  or  waste  it  whilst  the  conditions  of  the  Solar  System  remain  ; 
 and  we  know  nothing  that  can  affect  the  conditions  of  the  Solar  System 
 within  measurable  reons  of  time.  And  are  gratitude,  devotion,  and  duty 
 to  be  reduced  to  a  question  of  time  ?  Are  these  sentiments  incapable  of 
 life,  save  with  revealed  assurances  of  an  absolute  and  incomprehensible 
 eternity?  Those  who  set  monkish  metaphysics  above  healthy  action  and 
 rational  thought  must  find  what  assurance  they  can  in  Biblical  exegesis 
 and  Mediccval  jioems.  We  find  a  more  abiding  peace  in  Science,  History, 
 and  Social  Ethics. 
 
 Observe  another  most  comforting  quality  in   this  new-found  object  of 
 religious  faith,  or  rather  in  this  new  conception  of  the  old  object  of  all 
 
HUMANITY.  749 
 
 religious  faiths.  Every  idea  of  a  Supreme  Being,  regarded  as  Supreme 
 over  the  Universe  as  well  as  over  man,  necessarily  appeals  to  the  believer's 
 own  spirit.  He  communes  with  his  God  in  secret  and  is  at  rest.  That 
 is  to  say,  he  retires  into  his  own  inner  consciousness,  and  pro  ianto,  he 
 withdraws  himself  from  his  fellow-men.  Whatever  comes  between  the 
 Creature  and  his  Maker,  even  his  fellow-creatures,  to  the  devotee  who 
 imagines  himself  to  be  face  to  face  with  his  Creator,  and  his  Creator  to  be 
 whispering  to  his  heart  in  secret,  all  this  is  necessarily  of  minor  account, 
 and  so  far  as  it  intrudes  on  the  mystic  and  beatific  colloquy,  is  earthly, 
 profane,  and  deadening  to  the  soul. 
 
 Hence,  theology  is  in  its  essence  a  thing  of  subjective  visions,  appealing 
 to  the  individual  self-consciousness  at  its  highest  moment  of  exaltation, 
 and  putting  the  whole  human  race  and  all  its  interests  in  a  secondary  and 
 even  in  an  antagonistic  place.  All  theological  religions  have  made  de- 
 sperate efforts  to  counteract  this  tendency.  The  unknown  Humanity 
 which  inspired  them  has  made  them  always  nobly  superior  to  their  creed. 
 But  self  has  mastered  them  all  in  the  long  run,  dragged  them  down,  and 
 made  them  minister  to  self-will ;  so  that  in  the  end  the  terrible  alternative 
 that  every  theologian  has  to  face  comes  to  an  issue — either  sacrifice  the 
 Creed,  or  admit  that  it  is  in  direct  conflict  with  human  progress.  The 
 bigot,  Catholic  or  Calvinist,  accepts  the  latter.  But  all  good  Christian 
 men  are  slowly  and  awkwardly  divesting  themselves  of  the  Creed.  And 
 on  what  does  their  religion  rest  then  ?  It  rests  on  fine  words  and  fantastic 
 accommodations  of  plain  old  dogmas,  and  direct  unmistakable  promises 
 and  threats. 
 
 The  new  (or  to  speak  truly)  the  old,  religion  of  Humanity  is  social  in  its 
 essence.  It  finds  the  object  of  religious  respect  and  submission  in  the 
 vast  community,  of  which  the  believer  and  his  fellow-men  are  only  part. 
 It  makes  no  effort  to  eliminate  from  its  creed  self-concentration  and  a 
 dream  of  individual  salvation  ;  none  is  needed.  For  its  essence  is  to  love 
 and  serve  others  in  the  sum.  The  society  of  Mankind  forms  its  creed. 
 'I'hat  which  is  anti-social  is  of  its  own  nature  anti-religious.  And  the 
 health  and  devel.>|  ment  of  each  human  soul  with  us  means  nothing  but 
 its  active  contribution  to  the  health  and  development  of  the  human  souls 
 around  it. 
 
 Souls,  we  say.  Have  we  souls  ?  Of  course  we  have.  Positivists  as 
 much  as  Christians  know  what  it  means  when  a  man  gives  his  whole  soul 
 to  his  work.  It  is  idle  to  bar  us  from  the  use  of  a  fine  old  word,  because 
 we  decline  to  associate  with  it  a  particular  metaphysical  theory.  Believers 
 in  Metempsychosis  might  as  well  try  to  debar  all  men  from  using  the  word 
 soul,  unless  they  accept  the  doctrine  of  the  transmigration  of  souls ;  or 
 believers  in  Spiritualism  might  as  well  pretend  that  no  one  could  speak 
 of  a  spiritual  character  or  a  spiritual  poem,  unless  he  accepts  the  nonsense 
 about  ghosts,  telepathy,  and  table-turning.  Happily  no  one  can  take  out 
 a  patent  for  the  exclusive  use  of  words  as  old  as   human  language,  nor 
 
7SO  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 forbid  the  use  of  them,  except  in  connection  with  some  fanciful  theory  of 
 their  own. 
 
 Does  this  soul  or  spirit  exist  independently  of  the  body,  of  body  at  all, 
 in  a  purely  immaterial  state  ?  Who  can  say  ?  Where  is  the  proof  that  it 
 does  ?  How  can  we  have  any  opinion  about  what  may  occur  in  a  world 
 where  all  the  conditions  of  human  knowledge  are  ex  hypothcsi  absent?  It 
 is  a  question  to  which  I  can  offer  no  answer,  and  as  to  which  I  can 
 imagine  no  rational  answer,  negative  or  affirmative.  Do  immaterial 
 entities,  called  souls,  exist  in  space,  without  any  physical  organism  what- 
 ever ?  I  do  not  know.  Is  the  Universe  charged  with  Abracadabras  ?  I 
 do  not  know.  I  cannot  say  No,  and  I  cannot  say  Yes.  If  you  like  to 
 think  so,  I  shall  not  dispute  it.  I  have  something  else  to  think  about, 
 and  something  else  to  do. 
 
 It  has  always  seemed  to  me  odd,  that  those  who  find  it  dreadful  to 
 suppose  that  a  human  soul  ceases  to  be,  find  no  difficulty  in  conceiving  an 
 enormous  period  of  time  before  each  mortal  life,  when  the  immortal  soul 
 did  not  exist.  How  could  an  eternal  entity  not  exist  in  any  period  of 
 time  ?  What  was  the  soul  doing  then?  Is  it  not  terrible  to  suppose  these 
 eternal  entities  not  existing,  whilst  their  more  fortunate  brother-souls  were 
 in  existence  for  millions  of  years?  How  can  the  existence  of  an  infinite 
 eternal  entity  have  a  definite  term  at  the  beginning  and  no  definite  term 
 at  the  end  of  its  life  ?  And  why  is  a  definite  term  at  the  close  of  earthly 
 life  more  horrible  to  contemplate  than  a  definite  term  at  the  opening  of 
 earthly  life  ?  Or  if  it  be  said  that  devout  Christians  do  not  believe  in  any 
 definite  term  at  either  end,  and  that  the  Churches  abstain  from  dogmatiz- 
 ing about  the  ante-natal  state  of  the  soul,  they  certainly  tell  us  nothing 
 positive  about  it.  But  that  is  exactly  my  osvn  state  of  mind  as  to  the  post- 
 mortem state  of  the  soul.  I  abstain  from  dogmatizing ;  and  now,  after 
 many  wasted  years  of  meditation,  I  abstain  even  from  speculating  as  to  the 
 state  of  the  soul,  both  before  and  after  earthly  life.  I  acccept  the  logical 
 position  for  both  ante-natal  ^x\d  post-mortem  existence,  which  has  been  the 
 orthodox  view  as  to  the  ante-natal  existence.  Pythagoras,  Plato,  and 
 many  metaphysicians  in  the  East  and  in  the  West,  held  very  elaborate  and 
 wonderful  doctrines  on  the  subject.  But  the  Christian  Churches  have  very 
 wisely  and  justly  kept  silence  about  a  matter  on  which  neither  Revealed 
 nor  Natural  Religion  off"ered  them  a  shred  of  knowledge.  Let  us  carry 
 out  their  wise  silence  to  its  logical  consequence. 
 
 Do  we  then  live  after  death  ?  Of  course  we  do.  IVe  live.  Our  bodies 
 dissolve,  but  our  lives  continue.  What  \s  we}  And  what  \s  to  live!  If 
 to  live  is  to  eat  and  drink,  to  feel  joy  and  pain,  to  be  conscious  of  action 
 and  of  thought,  we  cannot  affirm  anything  about  a  state  which,  so  far  as 
 we  can  see,  supposes  the  absence  of  a  nervous  system.  For  my  part,  I  do 
 not  pretend  to  know  what  consciousness  can  be  in  the  absence  of  a 
 nervous  system,  for  I  mean  by  consciousness  an  organic  state  relative  to  a 
 
HUMANITY.  75 1 
 
 nervous  system.     And  so  far  as  we  means  this  state  of  consciousness,  I 
 have  no  means  of  forming  a  rational  opinion  on  the  question. 
 
 Happily  we  are  not  nervous  systems.  Life  is  not  an  agitation  of  the 
 nervous  system.  We  act,  we  work,  we  teach,  we  inspire  love,  in  places 
 where  we  are  not,  where  we  have  never  been,  and  in  souls  which  we  have 
 not  seen  in  the  body.  We  are  not  as  the  beasts  that  perish.  And  the 
 social  nature  of  man  is  not  bestial.  The  soul  of  man  has  a  subtle  faculty 
 of  incorporating  itself  with  the  souls  of  our  fellow-men.  We  are  immortal 
 by  virtue  of  the  intricate  organism  of  which  we  are  part.  Nervous  system, 
 digestive  apjwratus,  and  locomotive  organs  are  essential  as  a  basis  of  life; 
 but  in  due  course  that  life  can  be  practically  continued  by  the  agency  of 
 other  bodies  than  those  in  which  it  begins.  It  cannot  be  continued,  so  far 
 as  we  can  see,  without  other  like  bodies,  natures,  and  souls,  such  as  ours, 
 and  therefore  not  in  Dante's  and  Milton's  Paradise.  The  organism,  Man 
 and  Woman,  is  mortal  truly  ;  but  the  organism.  Humanity,  is  immortal. 
 We  know  of  nothing  that  can  destroy  it  within  the  conditions  of  our  Solar 
 sphere. 
 
 A  good  life  in  the  flesh  becomes  thus  incorporate  witli  the  mighty 
 Organism,  and  becomes  immortal  with  it.  Not  an  act  of  ours,  not  a  look, 
 nor  a  thought,  is  utterly  lost  and  wasted  in  space.  For  good  or  for  evil  it 
 forms  us,  and  our  character,  and  our  work.  It  forms  some  other  brother 
 or  sister  near  us  for  good  or  for  bad.  If  it  be  strong  and  noble,  it  shapes 
 many.  If  it  be  weak  and  evil,  it  is  gradually  expunged.  It  may  be  not 
 remembered,  not  recorded,  and  not  distinguished.  But  it  continues, 
 eternally  pulsating  unknown  through  generations  of  Humanity.  It  may 
 be  a  drop  in  the  ocean  of  human  life.  But  as  surely  as  every  drop  which 
 falls  on  an  Alp  will  pass  on  ultimately  into  the  ocean,  so  every  human  life, 
 every  act  of  life,  every  kind  word,  every  good  deed,  every  clear  thought, 
 lives  in  the  life  to  come.  We  live,  and  we  live  for  ever,  the  greatest  and 
 the  feeblest.  We  do  not  continue  to  have  nervous  sensations ;  we  do  not 
 eat  and  drink ;  we  do  not  think  or  act,  it  may  be,  and  we  do  not  add  to 
 our  work  on  earth.  But  we  live.  Our  lives  remain  here  and  continue  our 
 work.  The  Humanity  which  nursed  us  as  infants,  trained  us  as  children, 
 and  shaped  our  lives  as  men,  prolongs  that  life  in  a  collective  eternity, 
 when  it  has  closed  our  eyes  with  reverent  sorrow,  and  said  in  hope  and 
 love  the  last  words  over  our  bones.     And  it  makes  us  as  immortal  as  itself. 
 
IV- 
 
 THE  RELIGIOUS  ASPECTS  OF  SKEPTICISM. 
 
 By  J.  Owen. 
 
 In  commencing  the  Lecture  I  have  undertaken  to  deHver  to  you,  I  must 
 start  with  definition:  What  is  aSlceptic?  The  usual  signification  of  the 
 word  is — "  A  man  who  disbelieves  and  denies  what  he  ought  to  believe 
 and  affirm  "  ;  for  I  do  not  think  it  can  be  disputed  that  in  its  common 
 acceptation  the  word  has  nearly  always  a  connotation  of  blame  attached 
 to  it.  We  find,  however,  that  this  meaning  of  the  word,  together  with  its 
 imputation  of  blameworthiness,  comes  to  us  through  a  special  channel. 
 Like  "  infidel  "  and  one  or  two  other  opprobrious  terms,  whose  meaning 
 has  been  fixed  by  the  "  Odium  Theologicuin"  it  bears  stamped  on  its  surface 
 the  impress  which  Theology  thought  fit  to  place  upon  it.  Unlike,  however, 
 certain  terms  which  were  actually  coined  in  that  mint,  the  word  Skepticism 
 has  an  independent  origin  and  history.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  philosophical  term, 
 and  comes  to  us  from  that  general  store  of  philosophical  thought  and 
 nomenclature  to  which  our  modern  culture  owes  so  much,  viz.,  Greek 
 Philosophy.  The  mental  function  for  which  it  stands  is  as  old  as  the  first 
 rudimentary  exercise  of  the  human  reason.  The  word  Skepticism  is  itself 
 a  pure  Greek  word  ;  and  it  is  to  Greek  thought  that  we  must  appeal  to  find 
 the  thing  signified  in  its  initiatory  shape,  its  evolutionary  growth,  and  full 
 maturity. 
 
 Turning,  then,  to  Greek  Philosophy,  we  find  that  the  word  o-KCTTTo/xat 
 means,  to  see,  to  examine  inquisitively,  or  with  a  desire  of  knowledge. 
 Hence  the  o-kctttikos  implies  merely  the  thoughtful  or  reflective  man, 
 though,  as  reflection  may  imply  hesitation,  the  notion  of  suspense  is  also 
 included  in  its  meanings.  What  is,  however,  of  imjjortance  to  notice,  is, 
 that  the  term  in  its  first  derivative  sense  has  nothiniir  to  do  with  either 
 affirmation  or  denial.  It  merely  indicates  a  process  which  may  lead  to 
 one  or  the  otlier,  without  attempting  to  forecast  the  decisive  result.  A  man 
 who  intently  views  a  distant  object  may  ultimately  pronounce  an  aftirmative 
 or  negative  judgment  respecting  it,  or  he  may  remain  in  suspense  ;  but 
 this  contingent  result  of  his  investigation  is  something  apart  from  the 
 method  by  which  he  arrives  at  it.  Tlie  method  is  pure  investigation  ;  and 
 tliis,  and  this  alone,  is  the  jjrimary  meaning  of  the  term  Skepticism. 
 
 But  having  fixed  this  original  signification  we  may  advance  a  step  further, 
 wherein  we  have  the  inestimable  advantage  of  following  in  the  track  of 
 Cireek  thinkers. 
 
 Living,  as  we  do,  in  a  world   wherein  ourselves  and  our  thought  are 
 alike  charged  with  impenetrable  mysteries,  in  which  our  finite  being  is  the 
 
THE  RELIGIOUS  ASPECTS  OF  SKEPTICISM.  rSi 
 
 centre  of  more  than  one  infinity,  we  find,  as  Greek  Philosophy  found  long 
 ages  ago,  that  our  investigation  into  truth  is  feeble  and  untrustworthy  ; 
 that  on  speculative  subjects,  even  those  ia  which  we  have  the  deepest 
 interest,  it  falls  far  short  of  demonstration,,  and  therefore  that  in  these 
 subjects  our  only  possible  achievement  is  susi>ense,  qualified,  however,  in 
 some  cases,  by  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  likeliliood  or  approximate 
 assurance,  enough  to  warrant  belief  and  even  to  justify  action,  but  not 
 enough  to  establish  absolute  certainty. 
 
 We  thus  arrive  at  the  complete  Greek  defonition  of  Skepticism  which  we 
 find  in  the  Hypotyposes  of  Sextos  Empeirikos,  the  tliinker  who,.  nx)re  than 
 any  other,  erected  Greek  Skepticism  into  a  system.  He  terms  it  the 
 equilibration  or  perpetual  counterpoising  of  antagonistic  ideas  and  argu- 
 ments by  means  of  which  a  man  may  arrive  at  suspense,  and  afterwards  at 
 Ataraxia,  or  complete  mental  serenity.  Further  analysis  shows  us  that 
 Greek  Skepticism  was  characterized  by  these  four  qualities  : — 
 
 1.  It  was  a  condition  of  search — a  perpetual  energy  of  investigation. 
 
 2.  Its  proper  sphere  was  not  the  practical  exigencies  or  duties  of  human 
 life,  but  the  speculative  problems  surrounding  that  life  on  every  side. 
 
 3.  Its  object  was  truth,  however  much  it  might  happen  that  its  ultimate 
 outcome  was  some  measure  of  suspense. 
 
 4.  It  was  resolutely  opposed  to  dognvi  and  finality  on  all  issues  wherein 
 demonstrative  proof  was  unattainable. 
 
 Here,  then,  we  come  to  the  reason  of  the  animus  with  which  theology 
 has  always  regarded  Skepticism. 
 
 Theology,  together  with  every  scheme  of  thought  based  upon  authori- 
 tative claims,  demands  unquestioning  belief.  This  is  true  of  theology, 
 even  when  the  idea  of  an  actual  revelation  remains  more  or  less  in  the 
 background.  Truth  being  already  communicated,  further  inquiry  is  re- 
 garded as  superfluous,  if  not  impious.  Now,  this  unquestioning  faith 
 Skepticism  refuses  to  yield.  Nay,  more,  it  denounces  the  demand  for  it 
 as  an  insult.  Regarding  the  human  reason  as  a  divine  gift,  and  remember- 
 ing also  the  fallible  conditions,  both  in  its  origin  and  exercise,  of  hum.\n 
 authority,  even  of  the  most  unimpeachable  kind,  it  refuses  to  renounce 
 that  ])rimordial  faculty  of  questioning  and  investigating  by  the  exercise  of 
 which  man  is  a  reasoning  being. 
 
 Now  let  us  mark  how  theology, — understanding  by  that  term  that  with 
 which  we  are  most  conversant,  the  ecclesiasticism  of  Christianity, — has 
 treated  Skepticism.  As  we  have  seen,  Skepticism  claims  the  right  of  in- 
 vestigation. It  does  not  imply  nor  necessarily  lead  up  to  denial.  On  the 
 other  hand,  it  holds  aloof  from  dogmatic  negation  on  undemonstrable  sub- 
 jects, just  as  it  does  from  dogmatic  affirmation.  But  theology,  for  its  own 
 selfish  purposes,  has  misrepresented  the  skeptic  attitude.  It  has  con- 
 founded the  wholly  distinct  positions  of  inquirer  and  negationist.  In 
 order  to  prejudice  the  character  of  the  skeptic,  it  has  made  him  what  no 
 genuine  skeptic  could  be — a  negative  dogmatist,   an  absolute  denier  on 
 
 VOL.  I. — pt.  2.  3D 
 
754  'RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 uncertain  issues.      It  has  taken   from  him  his  original   and   true   charactei 
 of  inquirer,  questioner,  or  reasoner. 
 
 This  prejudice,  born  of  theology,  has,  moreover,  passed  beyond  its 
 limit-s.  It  is  found  in  every  department  of  human  thought  in  which  dog- 
 matism is  assumed  to  be  possible.  Philosophers  and  scientists  are  nearly 
 as  apt  as  theologians  to  assume  an  attitude  of  infallibility  on  subjects 
 inherently  incapable  of  it.  We  cannot,  therefore,  in  view  of  the  interests 
 of  human  speculation  of  every  kind,  lay  too  much  stress  on  the  fact  that 
 Skepticism  proper  has  as  little  to  do  with  absolute  denial  as  with  absolute 
 affirmation.  Theoretically,  it  stands  at  an  equal  distance  from  both  ex- 
 tremes ;  practically,  it  may  advance  more  or  less  in  the  direction  of  either. 
 In  any  case  at  protests  against  the  infallibility  of  negation  as  much  as 
 against  the  absolute  certitude  of  affirmation.  It  refuses  to  accept  dogma 
 or  finality  whenever  the  conditions  and  circumstances  are  inherently 
 undetermined  and  uncertain.  To  accuse  a  skeptic  of  denial,  to  make 
 Skepticism  synonymous  with  Atheism  or  any  other  form  of  negation,  how- 
 ever much  it  may  subserve  the  interests  of  an  unscrupulous  theology,  is 
 merely  to  confess  a  profound  ignorance  of  what  genuine  Skepticism 
 really  is. 
 
 But  why,  it  may  be  demanded,  not  unfairly,  should  theology  have  been 
 permitted  to  pervert  and  misrepresent  the  true  function  of  Skepticism  ? 
 That  it  should  endeavour  to  induce  a  condition  of  mind  so  favourable  to 
 its  interests  as  unquestioning  acceptance  of  dogma  is  not  surprising  ;  but 
 why  should  it  have  succeeded,  as  it  would  seem  it  has  done,  in  persuading 
 the  bulk  of  mankind  that  systems  of  dogmatic  faith  are  more  suited  to  the 
 circumstances  and  needs  of  men  than  methods  of  inquiry  and  conclusions 
 of  a  more  or  less  suspensive  character.  The  truth,  I  fear,  is,  that  most  men 
 are  by  the  very  conditions  of  their  knowledge-acquisition  predisposed  to 
 dogma.  They  needlessly  transfer  to  the  region  of  speculation  the  coercion 
 which  pertains  to  the  immediate  evidence  of  their  senses,  or  the  needs  of 
 their  practical  life.  Men  are  compelled  to  submit  without  question  or 
 argument  to  the  undeniable  witness,  e.g.,  of  their  eye-sight  or  hearing;  they 
 are  obliged  to  act,  to  choose  between  different  courses  of  action,  whether 
 they  will  or  not,  and  this  coercion  seems  to  have  generated  a  belief  that 
 a  similar  obligation  attaches  to  their  speculation,  though  a  moment's  con- 
 sideration might  suffice  to  show  any  reasonable  being  that  such  an  inference 
 is  wholly  illegitimate. 
 
 Wc  must  not,  however,  suppose  that  all  men  are  alike  in  this  particular. 
 In  harmony  with  Coleridge's  well-known  demarcation  of  all  men  into  born 
 Platonists  or  Aristotelians,  we  might  divide  most  thinking  men  into  born 
 dogmatists  or  skeptics,  or,  adopting  another  distinction  of  the  same  purport, 
 into  synthetic  and  analytic  thinkers.  Limiting  our  observation  to  our  own 
 country,  I  fear  it  must  be  added,  that  the  law  of  the  nearly  equal  birth  of 
 the  sexes  does  not  obtain  here — the  proportion  of  born  dogmatists  to  born 
 skeptics  is  overwhelmingly  great.     Judging  at  least  from  the  literature  of 
 
THE   RELIGIOUS  ASPECTS   OF  SKEPTICISM. 
 
 I  33 
 
 the  subject,  and  comparing  it  with  the  similar  literature  of  France  and 
 Germany,  we  might  almost  affirm  that  the  characteristic  of  the  average 
 Englishman  is  dogmatic ;  that  the  John  BuUism  which  dominates  over  his 
 practical  conclusions,  his  doggedness  and  obstinacy,  his  impatience  of  half- 
 truths  or  merely  probable  conclusions,  his  dislike  of  ratiocination,  when  it 
 does  not  terminate  speedily  in  some  practical  issue,  the  idiosyncrasy,  in 
 short,  which  has  excluded  "not  proven"  from  the  scope  of  English  legal 
 verdicts,  all  tend  to  prove  that  his  inborn  tendencies  are  not  favourable 
 to  inquiry  for  its  own  sake,  or  for  the  sake  of  purely  speculative  truth.  At 
 the  same  time  I  do  not  wish  to  impute  to  Englishmen  more  than  a  special 
 share  of  a  vis  inertuz  which  seems  common  to  men  of  every  age  and 
 country.  The  inaptitude  of  mankind  in  general  for  independent  truth-search 
 is  a  complaint  which  we  meet,  e.g.^  among  the  foremost  thinkers  of  Greece  ; 
 if  we  find  it  somewhat  intensified  by  English  thinkers,  it  may  perhaps  be 
 attributed  to  the  special  causes  to  which  I  have  adverted.  Thus  Locke, 
 one  of  the  noblest  and  most  earnest  of  EngHsh  truth-seekers,  remarks  : — 
 
 "  The  impartial  lovers  and  searchers  of  truth  are  much  fewer  than  one 
 would  wish  or  imagine  "  ;  while  another  English  thinker,  not  so  well  known 
 or  so  widely  read  as  his  admirable  works  deserve,  Samuel  Bailey,  of 
 Sheffield,  re-echoes  the  same  complaint  in  his  "  Essay  on  the  Pursuit  of 
 Truth  "  (p.  62)  :  — 
 
 "  However  unaccountable  it  may  at  first  sight  appear,  it  is  a  fact  that 
 few  human  beings  in  their  moral,  religious,  and  political  inquiries  are 
 possessed  with  this  simple  desire  of  attaining  truth.  Their  strongest  wishes 
 are  directed  to  the  discovery  of  new  grounds  for  adhering  to  opinions 
 already  formed,  and  they  are  as  deaf  to  arguments  on  the  opposite  side  as 
 they  are  alive  to  evidence  in  favour  of  their  own  views.  The  pure  wish  to 
 arrive  at  truth  is  indeed  as  rare  as  the  integrity  which  strictly  observes  the 
 golden  rule  to  act  towards  others  as  we  would  wish  others  to  act  towards 
 
 us." 
 
 Skepticism  being  then  the  synonym  of  truth-search,  and  opposed  in 
 matters  of  speculation  to  Dogma,  it  is  important  to  ascertain  the  specific 
 grounds  on  which  it  appeals  as  a  mental  habit  or  method  to  the  reason  of 
 thinking  men. 
 
 These  grounds  are  twofold,  and  using  terms  which,  however  objection- 
 able to  some  Englishmen,  seem  almost  imperative  in  any  broad  discussion 
 of  a  philosophical  subject: — they  are:  I.  ObjecUve,  II.  Subjective;  in- 
 herent, i.e.,  in  the  external  circumstances  wherein  the  truth-seeker  is  placed, 
 or  in  the  conditions  of  his  own  thought. 
 
 I.  Every  thinker  who  has  attained  a  just  sense  of  his  position  in  the 
 universe  is  aware  that  he  is  surrounded  by  infinities.  He  inhabits  a  point 
 of  universal  space  so  infinitesimally  minute  as  to  be  indescribable.  His 
 life  at  its  longest  is  a  moment  of  time  which,  in  view  of  the  twain  eternities, 
 past  and  future,  is  absolute  nothingness.  As  a  sentient  being,  he  knows 
 himself  to  be  surrounded  by  myriads  of  other  beings    sentient  and  non- 
 
756  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OE   THE    WORLD. 
 
 sentient,  of  which  his  utmost  research  does  not  suffice  even  to  tell  the 
 number,  to  say  nothing  of  their  origin,  destiny,  and  significance.  If 
 further  exploration  seems  to  reveal  traces  of  reasoned  wisdom  or  definite 
 purpose,  these  discoveries  are  met  by  others  which  appear  to  disclose 
 mindless  and  aimless  force.  In  a  word,  the  thinker  who  directs  all  his 
 powers  on  the  world  around,  finds  himself  bewildered  by  the  thousand-fold 
 facts  and  issues  which  transcend  his  knowledge  and  mock  his  research. 
 
 Now,  it  is  evident,  that  adopting  the  only  possible  definition  of  truth,  viz., 
 an  agreement  between  human  knowledge  and  the  facts  of  the  universe,  the 
 grasp  or  possession  of  truth  by  the  highest  human  intellect  can  only  be 
 partial  and  approximate.  We  may  easily  test  this  by  asking,  e.g.,  What  is 
 the  whole  truth  as  to  the  origin  of  the  earth,  of  our  planetary  system,  or  the 
 stellar  universe?  What  is  the  whole  truth  respecting  the  omnipresent 
 multiform  energy  to  which  men  give  the  name  of  Deity.?  In  point  of  fact, 
 truth,  regarded  as  commensurate  with  infinity,  becomes  itself  infinite  ;  and 
 man's  utmost  powers  are  as  insufficient  for  its  complete  comprehension  as 
 the  hollow  of  his  hand  to  contain  the  ocean.  But  this  admission  of  the 
 imperfection  of  our  conceptions  of  infinite  truth  must  not  be  confounded 
 with  Agnosticism,  especially  with  that  indolent,  dogmatic  Agnosticism  which 
 is  the  despair  of  truth-search  and  the  suicide  of  all  intellectual  vitality. 
 Man  has  enough  ascertainable  truth  to  stimulate  speculation  and  perpetual 
 inquiry,  without  warranting  definitive  and  dogmatic  conclusions.  He 
 knows  enough  of  the  space  that  environs  him  to  stimulate  further  research, 
 without  possessing  enough  to  dogmatize,  even  with  the  aid  of  astronomical 
 instruments,  on  the  space  far  removed  from  his  uttermost  ken.  He  possesses 
 some  experience  of  time,  since  civilized  man  began  to  exist  on  the  earth 
 without  having  that  complete  knowledge  of  its  contents  in  the  past  or 
 future  which  would  qualify  him  for  dogmatizing  on  the  one  or  the  other. 
 Similarly,  he  knows  enough  of  the  omnipotent  all-pervading  energy  whose 
 working  he  discovers  on  every  side  of  ^  him  to  warrant  an  inference  on 
 grounds  of  likelihood  as  to  some  of  his  qualities,  without  being  able,  on 
 grounds  of  demonstration,  to  predicate  the  whole.  Thus  man's  knowledge, 
 is  for  ever  passing  by  imperceptible  degrees  from  the  partially  known  to 
 the  wholly  unknown.  Starting  from  the  limited  centre  of  his  own  person- 
 ality and  the  elementary  facts  of  his  experience,  it  expands  in  circles  that 
 grow  fainter  as  they  widen,  until  it  is  lost  in  impenetrable  mystery.  Even 
 the  facts  that  come  under  our  actual  knowledge  are  but  an  index,  petty 
 and  tantalizing,  to  others  of  unsurpassable  magnitude  and  importance. 
 Our  knowledge  of  them  has  as  little  relation  to  liie  ultimate  realities  for 
 which  they  stand,  as  an  astronomical  diagram  in  a  school-book  bears  to  the 
 sublime  objects  it  aspires  to  portray.  It  is  not  only  the  "flower  in  the 
 crannied  wall "  of  the  Laureate,  whose  extremest  possible  research  might 
 suffice  to  reveal  "  what  God  is  and  what  man  is,"  but  any  other  elementary 
 fact  of  human  knowledge,  if  pursued  successfully  to  its  utmost  conceivable 
 limits,  might  afford  a  clue  to  the  great  secrets  of  th    universe.     In  short,  the 
 
THE  RELIGIOUS  ASPECTS   OF  SKEPTICISM.  717 
 
 inquirer  into  any  kind  of  truth  finds  that  his  earliest  footsteps  tread  on  the 
 confines  of  the  impenetrable  ;  that  his  plummet  is  continually  lost  in  un- 
 fathomable abysses;  that  all  his  knowledge,  no  matter  from  what  centre  it 
 proceeds,  tends  to  become  transcendental ;  that  his  science  of  numbers 
 develops  into  a  calculus  of  infinitesimals;  that  his  physics  in  its  further 
 progress  becomes  metajjhysics,  and  his  natural  science  is  sublimated  and 
 lost  in  supernaturalism. 
 
 As  an  example  of  this  action  of  inquiring  Skepticism  on  some  well-known 
 and  admitted  truth,  we  may  take  the  case  of  gravitation.  As  far  as  our 
 knowledge,  real  or  presumptive,  extends,  this  may  be  regarded  as  a 
 universal  law.  It  is  a  law  which  operates  invariably  in  a  predetermined 
 manner,  so  that  we  can  formulate  its  mode  of  working  in  a  brief  and  simple 
 rule ;  and  yet,  apart  from  the  mere  fact  of  its  operating  in  a  particular 
 manner,  we  know  nothing  whatever  of  gravitation.  Even  its  discoverer, 
 Newton  himself,  was  unable  to  conceive  the  rationale  of  its  working;  He 
 could  not  imagine  how  the  result  was  produced,  except  on  the  hypothesis 
 that  all  si^ace  was  filled  with  some  material  substance  such  as  ether,  and 
 that  the  influence  was  transmitted  from  one  atom  to  the  next.  But  I  need 
 hardly  remind  you  that,  except  as  a  working  hypothesis  needed  to  explain 
 the  transmission  of  light,  radiant  heat,  electricity,  and  magnetism,  etc.,  the 
 theory  of  a  space  filled  by  ether  is  as  yet  wholly  indemonstrable. 
 
 II.  r)Ut  if  in  every  direction  of  human  research  the  objective  conditions 
 of  truth-attainment  are  difficult,  its  subjective  requirements  are  no  less 
 arduous  and  hard  to  satisfy.  Outside  the  puny  limits  of  elementary  con- 
 sciousness and  sensuous  apprehension,  the  human  mind  has  an  unbounded 
 appetite  for  knowledge,  for  research,  for  speculation.  Though  man's 
 faculties  are  finite  and  limited,  ihey  are  always  ready  to  act  as  if  they  were 
 infinite  and  unbounded.  Take  any  simple  truth  or  fact ;  let  it  have  the 
 testimony  of  the  senses,  the  corroboration  of  long  experience,  the  assurance 
 derivable  from  the  witness  of  others,  still  the  inquirer  is  not  satisfied  ;  he 
 would  fain  learn  its  origin  in  time  or  space.  Suppose  the  truth  to  be  of 
 such  a  kind  that  even  this  desire  is  satisfied.  In  that  case  he  would  fain 
 explore  still  further.  He  would  learn  the  reason  why  the  fact  is  such  as 
 it  seems  to  be.  Is  its  rationale  inherent  in  the  truth  or  fact,  or  has  it  been 
 imported  into  it  from  extraneous  sources  ?  For  such  a  determined 
 inquirer  it  is  not  enough  to  learn,  e.g.,  the  chemical  constituents  of  air  or 
 water.  He  desires  to  learn  the  reason  why  air  or  water  contains  those 
 particular  elements,  and  in  those  particular  quantities.  At  the  point  where 
 his  intellect  stays  its  course,  his  imagination  starts  on  her  flight.  You  must 
 please  remember  that  I  am  not  here  describing  an  ordinary  thinker,  but  the 
 genuine  Skeptic  or  truth-inquirer.  It  is  no  use  to  tell  such  a  man  that 
 philosophy  has  nothing  to  do  with  final  causes,  or  to  brand  those  vestal 
 virgins,  as  Bacon  called  them,  with  sterility.  It  is  no  use  reminding  him 
 of  the  limits  that  hem  in  lunnan  experience  on  all  sides.  As  a  matter  of 
 theory  he  refuses  to  recognise  these  barriers,  or,  if  he  allows  them,  he  limits 
 
758  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 their  restriction  to  his  intellectual  conclusions,  and  permits  his  imagination 
 to  pursue  her  course  as  though  her  flight  were  altogether  unimpeded.  The 
 mental  disposition  here  characterized — the  keen  sense  of  truth  which  re- 
 fuses to  be  satisfied  with  ordinary  limits  and  conclusions — has  often  been 
 the  subject  of  satirical  and  humorous  remark.  The  following  anecdote 
 may  serve  to  exemplify  this  skeptical  spirit  in  antiquarian  research — a  field 
 in  which  the  zeal  of  inquiry  is  not  so  often  qualified  as  it  should  be  with 
 skeptical  suspense. 
 
 "  An  antiquary  was  engaged  in  carefully  inspecting  a  large  monument  in 
 a  church.     After  he  had  copied  the  inscription,  he  turned  to  a  bystander, — 
 
 "  Do  you  happen  to  know,  sir,  anything  of  this  family  ?  " 
 
 "  Nothing,"  was  the  reply,  "but  what  we  read  here.  You  perhaps  failed 
 to  observe  the  line  below  the  original  inscription." 
 
 "Eh?  Ah  !  so  I  did.  Thank  you,  sir";  and  to  the  copy  of  the 
 memorial  were  added  the  words,  "  The  family  is  now  extinct." 
 
 Still  the  copyist  did  not  seem  content.  "Extinct!"  he  muttered,  and 
 then  he  paused. 
 
 Suddenly  he  advanced  close  to  the  tablet,  examined  it  all  over,  stooped 
 down  and  scrutinized  the  under  edge,  looked  along  the  side  edges,  and 
 then  fetched  the  pew-opener's  chair  to  stand  upon  while  he  peeped  upon 
 the  dusty  top  and  into  the  grimy  mouths  of  the  guardian  angels.  Finally 
 he  descended  and  retreated  slowly,  his  eyes  still  fixed  on  the  monument, 
 and  murmured  as  he  paced  mournfully  out  of  church  :  "  Well,  I  think  they 
 might  as  well  have  added  the  name  of  the  stone-mason." 
 
 We  might  fear  that  not  a  little  truth-search,  after  it  has  exhausted  the 
 object  and  its  record,  is  expended  on  further  details  just  as  difficult  of 
 ascertainment  as  the  maker  of  an  obscure  monument.  We  must,  however, 
 remember,  tliat  for  such  minds  the  object  of  inquiry  is  not  so  fascinating  as 
 the  process. 
 
 I  have  little  doubt  that  this  mental  character  and  attitude  are  more 
 common  than  we  are  willing  to  allow.  Goethe  has  more  than  once 
 alluded  to  the  pleasure  which  men  experience  in  attacking  insoluble  ques- 
 tions. Speaking,  ^.^j,-.,  of  the  enigmatical  character  of  the  second  part  of 
 Faust,  he  says  :  "  It  is  precisely  this  obscurity  that  is  attractive  to  men,  and 
 they  labour  upon  it  as  they  do  on  all  insoluble  (piestions."  In  a  similar 
 strain  he  says  to  Eckermann,  "The  summit  of  innnan  attainment  is 
 astonishment ;  and  if  an  ultimate  phenomenon  has  astonished  us,  we  ought 
 to  rest  content.  Nothing  higher  can  be  granted  to  us,  and  we  ought  not 
 to  seek  anything  beyontl  it.  This  is  our  limit.  But  generally  the  sight  of 
 an  ultimate  phenomenon  docs  not  satisfy,  and  we  are  like  children  who, 
 after  looking  into  a  mirror,  immediately  reverse  it  to  see  what  is  on  the 
 other  side."  It  would  be  easy  to  adduce  the  evidence  of  other  thinkers  on 
 the  same  point,  but  the  task  seems  needless,  the  characteristic  is  one 
 which  it  is  impossible  for  any  close  observer  of  mankind  to  overlook. 
 With  this  consensus  before  us  we  might  say,  without  indulging  in  irony  or 
 
THE  RELIGIOUS  ASPECTS  OF  SKEPTICISM.  759 
 
 satire,  that  our  terrestrial  surroundings  are  admirably  adapted  for  that  class 
 of  men  whom  we  term  inquirers  or  skeptics.  Here,  at  all  events,  there  is 
 no  lack  of  unsolved  problems,  no  want  of  objects  on  which  man  may  ex- 
 pend his  insatiable  curiosity,  his  unquenchable  thirst  for  speculation.  If 
 the  issue  were  raised,  on  the  twofold  basis  of  the  nature  of  man's  thought 
 and  the  conditions  under  which  he  exercises  it,  as  to  whether  the  universe 
 were  designed  for  dogmatists  or  for  skeptics,  there  could  be  no  hesitation  as 
 to  the  answer.  Without  venturing  far  into  the  difficult  region  of  teleology, 
 we  might  at  least  plead  that  there  is  as  much  mutual  fitness  between  a 
 world  of  hard  questions  and  a  curiosity  to  explore  them  as  between  light 
 and  colours,  and  an  eye  formed  for  their  perception.  A  universe  of  a 
 different  kind  would  indeed  be  hopelessly  unfitted  for  the  skeptic.  A 
 world,  e.g. — if  we  can  stretch  our  imaginations  to  its  conception — in  which 
 there  were  no  mysteries  to  be  investigated,  no  enigmas  to  be  solved,  and 
 in  which  all  conceivable  profundities  were  within  the  reach  of  well-directed 
 energy,  would  be  unsuited  even  for  beings  of  ordinary  human  faculties  and 
 aspirations,  as  affording  too  little  scope  for  the  higher  instincts  of  specula- 
 tion and  imagination.  But  minds  of  the  former  or  genuinely  skeptic  kind 
 are  not  rare  in  the  world.  Their  preference  of  endless  search  for  even  the 
 most  absolute  certitude  may  be  the  outcome  of  one  of  two  causes.  It  may, 
 as  in  Lessing's  case,  be  the  result  of  an  overwhelming  consciousness  of  the 
 superhuman  greatness  of  truth ;  or,  as  in  the  case  of  Montaigne, — who  ad- 
 mitted that  if  restrictions  existed  for  him  in  a  distant  part  of  the  universe 
 he  would  feel  less  happy  on  that  account,. — it  may  be  the  outcome  of  in- 
 tellectual unrest,  which  is  too  vast,  shall  I  say  too  infinite,  to  admit  of 
 being  fully  sated. 
 
 It  will  help  to  explain  the  existence  of  minds  of  these  types,  if  we  re- 
 member one  characteristic  of  all  matured  independent  thought,  i.e.,  its  sense 
 of  unbounded  speculative  freedom.  That  thought  is  free  is  of  course  a 
 truth  which  is  only  relieved  from  triteness  by  the  fact  that  its  significance 
 is  so  generally  under-estimated.  In  reality  it  signifies  that  in  its  own 
 character  and  instinct  thought  is  averse  to  limitation  and  finality  ;  that 
 there  is  in  all  subject-matters  of  speculation,  a  jenseitSy  a  beyond,  into 
 which  it  would  fain  explore  ;  that  the  only  limiting  conditions  are  those 
 which  arise  from  its  sense  of  imperfect  attainment ;  that  no  ab  extra 
 boundaries  are  placed  to  its  investigation.  Conceive  an  astronomer,  e.g., 
 investigating  the  stellar  universe.  Besides  the  limitation  of  his  powers 
 there  is  no  impediment  to  his  gaze.  With  finite  instrumentality  he  is  in 
 fact  looking  into  infinity.  No  matter  how  powerful  his  telescope,  the  con- 
 ditions remain  the  same.  There  is  no  barrier  or  limit  to  thwart  his  gaze. 
 If  he  could  transfer  himself  from  earth  to  one  of  the  fixed  stars,  say,  e.g., 
 Sirius,  his  relation  to  infinite  space  would  probably  remain  unaltered. 
 His  starry  horizon  would  be  only  removed  some  millions  of  miles  farther, 
 and  he  would  be  doing  there  what  he  does  here,  viz.,  gazing  with  un- 
 restricted freedom  into  infinity.     Now  this  sense  of  absolute  freedom  with 
 
76o  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 which  the  astronomer  pursues  his  investigation  into  the  starry  heavens  is 
 •an  illustration  of  precisely  the  same  liberty  which  every  genuine  truth- 
 seeker  feels  possessed  of.  So  far  as  the  object  of  his  quest  is  concerned, 
 4ie  is  absolutely  free  to  direct  his  exploration  in  any  and  every  direction. 
 There  is  in  nature  and  in  the  inherent  instincts  and  tendencies  of  man's 
 ■thought  no  dogmatic  inhibition.  There  is  nothing  which  says  to  man, 
 *'  You  Tnust  limit  your  investigation  ;  you  must  give  no  scope  to  your 
 speculation;  you  must  restrain  your  truth-search  within  the  narrow  limits  of 
 the  visible  and  palpable.  Nature — and  the  same  remark  applies  to  Time, 
 Space,  and  Existence  —  know  nothing  of  external  barriers  deliberately 
 erected  to  ward  off  human  curiosity.  ^Vhere  such  apparent  obstacles 
 exist,  they  are  like  the  veil  on  the  face  of  a  coy  beauty,  half  forbidding, 
 half  inviting  the  closer  contemplation  of  the  charms  beneath.  It  is  only 
 man  who  transforms  the  subjective  limits  of  his  thought  into  actual  barriers 
 ■which  he  feigns  to  exist  in  the  objects  of  his  investigation. 
 ****** 
 
 Having  thus  discussed  the  nature  of  skeptical  inquiry,  I  go  on  to  con- 
 sider— in  harmony  with  the  general  purport  of  these  lectures — the  Relation 
 of  Skeptics  and  Skepticism  to  Religion. 
 
 There  are  three  divisions  under  which  I  should  like  to  consider  this 
 particular  application  of  our  subject.  I.  General  Religion  ;  II.  Christi- 
 anity; III.   Protestantism. 
 
 I.  By  General  Religion  I  mean  that  somewhat  vague  but  profoundly 
 implanted  sense  of  the  supernatural  :  that  persuasion  of  the  existence  of 
 some  omnipotent  Power  which  originated  and  directs  all  things,  which  is 
 so  widely  diffused  among  mankind.  It  is  obvious  that,  in  reference  to  this 
 most  universal  of  all  human  beliefs,  Skepticism  has  a  justifiable  if  not  a 
 generally  acknowledged  function.  It  approaches  the  question  in  the 
 genuine  spirit  of  truth-search,  without  bias  or  partiality,  with  the  persuasion 
 that  it  is  not  one  for  hasty  dogmatizing,  but  for  honest  and  reverential 
 inquiry.  Hence  it  is  prepared  to  make  the  outcome  depend,  not  on  an 
 impossible  demonstration,  but  upon  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  likelihood. 
 It  does  not  regard  a  fair  proportion  of  suspense  or  uncertainty  as  in  any 
 way  derogatory  to  that  supreme  rule,  or  at  all  blameworthy  on  the  part  of 
 those  who  bend  their  best  energies  to  its  investigation.  On  the  contrary, 
 it  considers  it  as  the  attitude  of  caution,  reverence,  and  humility,  eminently 
 befitting  such  infinite  issues.  Above  all,  it  abstains  from  dogmatic  nega- 
 tion ;  it  will  not  dare  deny  wholly  and  absolutely  any  more  than  it  will 
 affirm  definitely  and  exhaustively.  It  acknowledges,  as  it  needs  nnist,  the 
 unspeakable  immensity  and  sublimity  of  the  universe.  It  recognises  in 
 every  direction,  as  far  as  human  science  can  penetrate,  the  working  of 
 apparently  universal  laws.  It  acknowledges  that  those  laws  seem  domi- 
 nated by  some  such  energizing  principles  as  order,  wisdom,  reason,  good- 
 ness, nnitual  adjustment  ;  and  it  is  prepared  to  gather  all  these  indications 
 into  a  supreme  converging  point,  not  of  absolute  demonstrable  certainty, 
 
THE  RELIGIOUS  ASPECTS   OF  SKEPTICISM.  761 
 
 but  of  reasonable  probability;  not  enough  to  warrant  systematic  and  con- 
 clusive dogma,  but  sufficient  to  justify  cautious  and  reverential  considera- 
 tion and  worship. 
 
 II.  But  the  objection  will  be  made:  This  reasoning  may  serve  in  the 
 case  of  undefined  Religion.  But  what  have  you  to  say  of  Revelation  ?  Is 
 not  Skepticism  or  incjuiry  in  itself  a  denial  and  a  distrust  of  Revelation  ? 
 To  this  I  reply  :  — 
 
 1.  That  the  extreme  advocates  of  the  claims  of  Revelation  have  gener- 
 ally dealt  so  ill  with  rational  inquiry,  by  denying  that  it  has  any  legitimate 
 standpoint,  or  by  maliciously  confounding  the  attitude  of  inquiry  or  sus- 
 pense with  that  of  negation,  that  it  would  hardly  be  wonderful  if  Skepti- 
 cism were  to  attempt  reprisals.     But, — 
 
 2.  The  answer  I  desire  to  insist  on  is,  that  Revelation,  so  far  from 
 rendering  inquiry  and  verification  needless,  make  their  obligation  all  the 
 more  imperative  ;  for  whatever  theories  we  may  form  as  to  conceivable 
 modes  of  direct  Revelation,  all  the  methods  of  such  alleged  communica- 
 tion with  which  we  are  conversant,  imply  human  agency  and  intervention, 
 and,  what  is  of  still  more  importance,  lend  themselves  to  human  ambition 
 and  lust  of  power.  Now,  no  experience  of  humanity  or  history  is  more 
 abundantly  justified  than  that  which  demands  a  scrutiny  of  every  claim  to 
 dominate  over  the  thought  and  conduct  of  mankind.  I  might  go  farther, 
 and  say  that  the  progress  of  humanity  to  freedom  and  civilization  has  been 
 attended  by  no  feature  more  striking  than  the  persistent  scrutiny — often 
 followed  by  the  rejection — of  such  claims  on  the  unquestioning  belief  and 
 obedience  of  men.  But  the  answer  I  have  thus  epitomized  is  one  that  has 
 so  often  been  made,  that  I  think  it  more  becoming  to  draw  your  attention 
 to  such  replies  than  needlessly  to  add  to  them.  One  chief  witness  on  the 
 right  of  reasonable  inquiry  in  this  matter  is  a  name  which  will  always  confer 
 lustre  on  English  thought.  I  mean  that  of  John  Locke.  Both  in  his  "  Essay 
 on  the  Human  Understanding,"  and  in  his  "  Treatise  on  the  Reasonable- 
 ness of  the  Christian  Religion  "  he  has  touched  the  subject  again  and  again, 
 but  always  with  the  result  of  vindicating  the  right  of  reason  and  inquiry  to 
 scrutinize  freely  the  claims  of  any  and  every  revelation  proffered  to  man- 
 kind. But  among  more  modern  writers  who  have  dealt  with  this  subject, 
 the  reasonings  of  Samuel  Bailey,  in  his  "  Essay  on  the  Pursuit  of  Truth," 
 are  at  once  so  explicit  and  conclusive  that  I  must  find  room  for  a  quota- 
 tion (p.  24)  : — 
 
 "  Not  less  imperative  reasons  exist  why  we  should  diligently  apply  our- 
 selves to  the  examination  of  the  authenticity  and  import  of  any  alleged 
 communication  from  God  to  mankind,  that  wears  the  least  semblance  of 
 credibility.  To  neglect  inquiry  under  these  circumstances  would  not  only 
 be  a  breach  of  the  manifest  duty  arising  out  of  the  relation  of  a  creature  to 
 his  Creator,  but  it  would  be  to  plunge  ourselves  into  those  evils  which  an 
 unacquaintance  with  accessible  knowledge,  and  much  more  any  positive 
 errors  on  so  momentous  a  subject  would  be  sure  to  bring,  as  well  as  to  sacri- 
 
762  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 fice  all  those  benefits  that  would  necessarily  flow  from  the  possession  of  the 
 truth.  The  disastrous  consequences  which  have  arisen  to  mankind  from 
 mistakes  on  this  great  question  are  alone  sufficient  to  teach  us  the  impera- 
 tive obligation  of  entering  upon  the  inquiry." 
 
 3.  But  there  is  a  further  reason  why  we  should  make  Revelation, — 
 understanding  by  that  term  its  highest  and  noblest  phase,  i.e.,  Christianity, 
 — amenable  to  cautious  and  reverential  inquiry. 
 
 In  the  beginning  of  Christianity  the  principle  by  which  its  truths  were 
 ostensibly  apprehended  was  Faith,  i.e..,  moral  persuasion,  a  Belief  depend- 
 ent upon  feeling,  upon  spiritual  sensibility  and  reasonable  likelihood,  and 
 which  was  distinguished  from  the  conviction  of  the  senses  or  the  intellect. 
 Now  this  Faith,  so  far  from  arrogating  to  itself  demonstrable  certainty, 
 deliberately  disowned  it,  as  a  condition  which  implied  its  own  destruction. 
 It  was  that  state  of  probation  and  uncertainty  that  harmonized  with  man's 
 earthly  life,  and  the  inevitable  conditions  of  that  life.  It  was  a  principle  not 
 only  distinct  from,  but  in  a  certain  sense  opposed  to,  sight  or  knowledge. 
 As  Locke  remarks  in  his  first  reply  to  Bishop  Stillingfleet : — 
 
 "  Faith  stands  by  itself,  and  ujion  grounds  of  its  own,  nor  can  be  re- 
 moved from  them  and  placed  on  those  of  Knowledge.  Their  grounds  are 
 so  far  from  being  the  same,  or  having  anything  common,  that  when  it  is 
 brought  to  certainty  Faith  is  destroyed.  It  is  Knowledge  then,  and  Faith  no 
 longer.  With  what  assurance  soever  of  believing  I  assent  to  any  article  of 
 Faith,  so  that  I  steadfastly  venture  my  all  upon  it,  it  is  still  but  believing. 
 Bring  it  to  a  certainty,  and  it  ceases  to  be  Faith." 
 
 Such  is  Faith  as  it  was  defined  by  the  Christian  Apostles,  and  as  it  still 
 exists  in  the  thought  of  those  rare  thinkers  who  unite  the  spiritual  insight 
 with  the  intellectual  discernment  of  Locke.  For  many  centuries,  however, 
 i.e..,  ever  since  the  Christian  Religion  became  transmuted  into  Ecclesiasti- 
 cism,  and  its  truths  perverted  into  dogmas,  this  primitive  and  true  sense  of 
 Faith  has  been  lost.  Faith  now  stands  for  absolute  certainty.  It  implies 
 a  scheme  of  imperative,  demonstrative  beliefs — beliefs  which  are  so  far 
 removed  from  the  region  of  trust  or  hope,  that  they  cannot  even  be  in- 
 quired into  without  serious  risk.  You  will  observe  that  Ecclesiasticism 
 has  dealt  with  Faith  in  the  same  spirit  of  selfish  obscurantism  with  which  it 
 has  treated  Skepticism.  Just  as  it  has  made  Skepticism,  or  honest  inquiry, 
 synonymous  with  Negation,  so  it  has  transformed  Faith  into  Certainty — the 
 motive  in  each  case  being  the  absolute  inhibition  of  all  free  and  independ- 
 ent inquiry.  One  of  the  most  pressing  wants  of  our  time  seems  to  me  to  be 
 the  dissociation  of  Faith  from  Dogma,  and  its  restoration  to  its  primitive 
 signification.  For  this  purpose  nothing  could  be  better  adapted  than  the 
 cultivation  of  a  free  and  reasonable  Skepticism.  In  its  original  and  true 
 sense  of  imperfect  certitude,  of  devout  trust,  of  persistent  effort  and  aspi- 
 ration. Faith,  so  far  from  being  opposed  to  Skepticism,  really  imi)lies  it.  It 
 recognises  the  truth,  that  in  a  world  so  constituted  as  our  own,  and  for  men 
 so  formed  as  ourselves.  Faith  is  the  only  kind  of  assurance  that  is  possible. 
 
THE  RELIGIOUS  ASPECTS   OF  SKEPTICISM.  763 
 
 It  further  admits,  that  for  most  of  the  doctrines  of  general  Religion  or 
 special  Christianity,  the  highest  possible  grounds  are  cliicfly  probabilities 
 of  a  moral  and  spiritual  kind.  This,  1  may  note  in  passing,  was  the  basis 
 on  which  Bishop  Butler  and  Archbishop  Whately  placed  the  doctrine  of 
 Immortality,  though  the  fact  is  mostly  overlooked  by  those  who  regard  the 
 "  Analogy  '  of  the  former  as  the  text-book  of  Christian  apologetics. 
 
 III.  But  there  is  one  more  religious  aspect  of  Skepticism  which  I  am 
 desirous  of  bringing  before  you — I  mean  its  relation  to  Protestantism. 
 Schulze,  in  his  celebrated  work  "  Aenesidemus,"  in  which  he  applied  the 
 principles  of  Skepticism  with  crushing  effect  to  the  dogmas  of  the  Kantian 
 school,  calls  Skepticism  "the  Protestantism  of  Philosophy."  The  appro- 
 priateness of  the  term  is  undeniable.  The  insurrection  of  Wiclif  and 
 Luther  against  Romanism  was  largely  a  protest  against  excessive  dogma, 
 the  rebellion  of  the  enlightened  human  reason  against  the  infallibility  antl 
 coercion  of  Ecclesiasticism.  As  you  all  know,  the  actual  outcome  of  the 
 Protestant  Reformation  was  in  a  great  measure  to  substitute  one  source  of 
 infallibility  for  another — Bibliolatry  for  Ecclesiolatry.  You  remember 
 Lessing's  apostrophe  to  Luther  on  this  point :  "  O  Luther,  thou  hast  de- 
 livered us  from  the  bondage  of  the  Papacy  ;  who  will  deliver  us  from  the 
 slavery  o{  the  Letter}^' 
 
 But  although  the  Protestant  Reformation,  starting  as  it  did  from  a 
 system  of  infallible  Dogma,  was  not  free  from  the  hereditary  taint  of  its 
 parentage,  its  principles  were  so  allied  with  freedom  and  with  the  right  of 
 skeptical  inquiry,  that  they  were  not  without  efficacy,  even  when  partially 
 perverted.  Thus  Protestantism,  by  its  very  existence,  proclaimed  the  duty 
 of  criticising  whatever  scheme  of  Dogma  presented  itself  for  human  ac- 
 ceptance, no  matter  how  ancient  or  presumably  sacred  its  alleged  sanc- 
 tions ;  it  demonstrated  the  danger  and  degradation  of  a  blind  submission 
 to  any  external  authority  ;  it  vindicated  the  right  of  reasoning  men  to 
 employ  their  faculties  without  inhibition  or  restriction  from  any  individual 
 or  community  of  their  fellow-men.  From  this  point  of  view  every  Protes- 
 tant who  realizes  his  true  standpoint  is  of  necessity  a  skeptical  inquirer. 
 His  attitude  to  every  system  of  belief  is  one,  not  of  indiscriminate  affirma- 
 tion or  denial,  but  of  inquiry,  careful,  cautious,  and  continuous — the 
 determination,  according  to  the  Apostolic  precept,  to  prove  all  things,  and 
 to  hold  fast  only  that  which  is  good. 
 
 ****** 
 
 You  will  observe  that  I  have  limited  the  scope  of  my  Lecture  to  tlie 
 religious  aspects  of  Skepticism  ;  but  the  conclusions  I  have  laid  before  you 
 are  clearly  applicable  to  every  branch  of  human  knowledge,  to  every  science, 
 e.g.,  capable  of  developing  a  tendency  to  dogmatism  on  matters  beyond  the 
 reach  of  human  verification.  This  really  includes  almost  all  our  known 
 sciences  and  schemes  of  philosophy.  In  all  we  discern  the  same  fatal 
 tendenc  to  imperfect  inductions  and  inconclusive  proofs,  the  same  dis- 
 position to  rash  andhasty  generalizations,  the  same  susceptibility  of  Dogma- 
 
764  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 petrifaction  and  of  that  ossification  of  living  tissue  which  is  just  as  hurtful 
 to  mental  as  to  physical  organisms,  the  same  tendency  either  to  suppress 
 original  and  spontaneous  thought,  or  to  coerce  it  into  submission  to  some 
 traditional  or  generally  accredited  authority.  In  the  name  of  intellectual 
 and  spiritual  freedom,  of  the  true  autonomy  of  the  individual  reason  and 
 enlightenment  which  is  the  birthright  of  every  man  ;  in  the  name  of  that 
 personal  responsibility  for  his  own  creed  which  every  genuine  thinker  must 
 perforce  admit,  the  Skeptic  protests  against  assigning  absoluteness,  defini- 
 tiveness,  and  an  infallible  dogmatic  sanction  to  whatever  alleged  truths  lie 
 beyond  the  test  of  man's  verification  or  the  scope  of  his  understanding. 
 Further,  he  pleads  the  persuasive,  and  sometimes  even  the  coercive  force 
 of  probabilities  as  the  basis  of  human  belief  and  action.  He  stipulates  in 
 the  interests  of  truth  that  he  shall  not  be  required  to  overstate  the  grounds 
 of  his  faith  in  any  religious  or,  for  that  matter,  in  any  scientific  truth.  If 
 the  true  bases  of  any  given  belief  are  only  probabilities,  and  from  the  nature 
 of  the  case  'can  be  no  more  than  probabilities,  he  pleads  for  their  sanction 
 on  those  grounds  alone.  He  deems  it  both  impolitic  and  dishonest  to 
 define  as  absolute  certainties  beyond  the  reach  of  doubt  and  inquiry  what 
 the  Skeptical  Reason,  after  investigation,  must  needs  pronounce  to  be  only 
 likelihoods,  or  partial  and  approximate  truths. 
 
 But  what,  it  may  be  asked,  would  be  the  effects  of  a  general  diffusion  of 
 these  principles  of  Skepticism, — i.  Theoretically;  2.  Practically? 
 
 2.  Taking  the  second  first,  I  must  again  remind  you  that  Skepticism 
 has  nothing  to  do  with  the  practical  exigencies,  or  the  self-attested  demon- 
 strations of  life.  Men,  or  at  all  events  sane  men,  do  not  deliberate  on 
 the  bare  facts,  c g.^  of  black  and  white,  or  any  other  appeal  to  the  healthy 
 decision  of  the  human  senses.  Doubtless  there  have  been  some  in  ancient 
 as  in  modern  times — men  of  the  familiar  dilettante  type  of  those  who  "con- 
 quered Berkeley  by  a  grin" — who  have  claimed  to  prove  the  futility  of 
 philosophical  suspense  by  applying  it  to  circumstances  which  necessitate 
 immediate  action.  The  ass  of  Buridanus,  which  starved  between  two 
 bundles  of  hay  while  deliberating  which  was  greater,  was  long  held  to  be  a 
 legitimate  reductio  ad  absurduvi  of  suspensive  Skepticism.  In  point  of  fact 
 it  was  nothing  of  the  kind.  Indeed,  the  argument  partakes  of  the  pro- 
 verbial character  of  the  quadruped  appropriately  chosen  to  illustrate  it. 
 Students  of  Greek  philosophy  are  well  aware  tha*:  the  suspensive  attitude, 
 or  even  that  of  critical  incjuiry,  was  never  conceived  to  a|)|)ly  to  men's 
 practical  concerns  when  these  were  coercive  and  unquestionable. 
 
 I.  Nor  does  there  seem  the  least  danger  of  any  ill  effect  arising  from 
 the  admission  of  the  skeptical  method  even  into  our  theoretical  beliefs. 
 Few  men  seem  able  to  realize  how  uuk  h  the  ordinary  beliefs,  nay,  even  the 
 resolutions  and  decisive  acts  of  their  lives,  depend,  not  u[)on  demonstrated 
 certainties,  but  upon  a  greater  or  less  amount  of  reasonable  probabilities. 
 Let  us  suppose,  e.;^.,  a  man  endowed  with  thought  and  insight  were  to  take 
 stock  of  the  whole  sum  of  his  beliefs  from  his  most  readily  acquired  opinion 
 
THE  RELIGIOUS  ASPECTS  OF  SKEPTICISM.  765 
 
 to  his  profoundest  conviction  ;  let  us  suppose  him,  in  other  words,  to  take 
 his  religious  creed,  his  political  and  economic  creed,  his  philosophical  and 
 scientific  creed,  and  assign  to  each  separate  article  its  own  persuasive  or 
 belief-coercing  virtue,  just  that  and  no  more.  If  he  did  so,  he  would  un- 
 doubtedly be  startled  at  finding  how  few  articles  in  each  case  came  under 
 the  standard  of  absolute  demonstrable  certitude,  and  how  many,  on  the 
 other  hand,  were  based  upon  probabilities.  If  he  investigated  further,  he 
 might  even  find  it  impossible  to  distinguish  between  the  demonstrated 
 certitude  and  the  problematical  probability,  regarded,  i.e.,  as  a  customary 
 basis,  whether  for  speculative  conviction  or  for  resolute  and  decisive 
 action.  This  is,  of  course,  but  one  method  of  proving  the  preponderat- 
 ing influence  which  likelihood  has  in  our  lives — the  truth  which  Cardinal 
 Newman  expressed  by  saying,  that  "  Probability  is  the  Rule  of  Life,"  or 
 in  the  language  of  the  apostle,  "  We  walk  by  faith,  not  by  sight." 
 
 But  it  is  time  to  sum  up  and  conclude  my  Lecture. 
 
 I  hope  I  have  shown,  beyond  the  possibility  of  misunderstanding,  what 
 genuine  Skepticism  is.  Starting  from  its  primary  meaning  in  that  perennial 
 well-spring  of  our  best  speculation — Greek  philosophy — I  have  pointed 
 out  its  general  significance  in  human  thought,  as  well  as  its  special  relation 
 to  religion.  Briefly  described,  it  is  the  natural  protest  of  the  human  mind 
 against  the  tyranny  of  Dogma — against  the  combined  despotism  and 
 narrowness  of  every  scheme  of  human  omniscience  and  self-arrogated 
 authority.  It  is  based  on  the  instinct  of  mental  and  spiritual  freedom, 
 which  is  the  most  precious  of  all  human  blessings,  and  which  no  individual 
 can  forego  without  infinite  danger  to  his  mental  and  moral  well-being.  So 
 far  from  being  synonymous  with  Negation,  whatever  form  Negation  may 
 take,  whether  indolent  and  dogmatic  Agnosticism,  or  aggressive  Atheism  and 
 Secularism,  it  i)rotests  against  all  alike.  It  emphasizes  the  truth,  that  the 
 universe,  with  its  myriad-sided  aspects,  its  numberless  complex  processes 
 and  issues,  its  everlastingly  varied  and  mutually  interacting  principles  of 
 Mental  and  Physical,  Mundane  and  Spiritual,  Real  and  Ideal,  cannot  be  re- 
 duced to  the  petty  dimensions  of  human  infallibility,  whether  of  a  Church 
 or  an  Individual.  Hence  we  might  define  Skepticism  as  The  Religion 
 OF  Truth,  as  implying  the  attitude  of  cautious  hesitation  and  reverential 
 constrairit  before  the  infinite  shrine  wherein  Truth  has  her  dwelling.  So  far 
 from  being  motived  by  disdain  of  or  indifference  for  Truth,  it  is  actuated  by 
 the  very  opposite  feeling,  viz.,  by  a  devout  belief  in  her  greatness,  by  a 
 persuasion  of  her  superhuman  majesty  and  supremacy — the  religious  awe 
 which  prompted  Lessing  in  the  well-known  hypothetical  alternative,  to 
 choose  Truth-search  rather  than  Truth  itself,  as  more  suited  to  the  cravings 
 and  perpetually  energizing  activities  of  the  human  intellect.  It  is  further 
 actuated  by  a  persistent  determination  to  abide  by  the  laws  and  to  state 
 the  claims  and  credentials  of  Truth  with  the  sincerity  and  accuracy  she  her- 
 self demands. 
 
 Surely  no  task  or  effort — call  it  by  what  name  you  may — can  be  worthier 
 
766  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  attention  of  rational  beings  than  this  determination  to  investigate  and, 
 so  far  as  possible,  to  attain  Truth.  The  task  lias  its  religious  sanction  no 
 less  than  its  moral  and  intellectual  significance  and  importance.  Indeed, 
 it  is  the  concentration  and  unison  of  all  man's  noblest  faculties  and  aspira- 
 tions. "  Believe  me,  my  good  friend,"  said  Locke  in  a  letter  to  Collins, 
 "  to  love  Truth  for  Truth's  sake  is  the  principal  part  of  human  perfection  in 
 this  world,  and  the  seed-plot  of  all  other  virtues."  And  if  it  should  happen 
 that  with  all  our  efforts  we  fail  of  attaining  Truth — that  our  ultimate  know- 
 ledge will  alwaj's  remain  the  partial  product  of  our  puny  and  circumscribed 
 powers — even  then  we  may  take  comfort  in  the  reflection  that  energies  so 
 nobly  and  unselfishly  directed  have  in  themselves  a  great  recompense  of 
 reward,  besides  harmonizing  with  the  destiny  of  all  creation,  and  sharing  its 
 groaning  and  travailing  for  the  Infinite.  As  Lessing  well  observed  :  "  It 
 is  not  the  Truth  of  which  any  one  is,  or  assumes  himself  to  be,  possessed, 
 that  makes  the  worth  of  a  man,  but  the  upright  endeavour  he  has  made  to 
 arrive  at  Truth  ;  for  not  by  the  possession,  but  by  the  investigation  of  Truth 
 are  the  powers  expanded  wherein  alone  his  ever-growing  perfection  con- 
 sists." Nay,  more  :  even  if  our  Truth-search  should  not  only  fail  of  Truth, 
 but  should  even  lead  us  into  error,  we  may  still  find  consolation  in  the 
 assurance  which  I  will  put  before  you  in  the  oft-quoted  words  of  John 
 Hales,  one  of  the  many  advocates  of  free  and  liberal  inquiry  of  which  the 
 Church  of  England  can  boast.  Writing  to  Archbishop  Laud,  he  says :  "The 
 pursuit  of  Trutli  hath  been  my  only  care  ever  since  I  first  understood  the 
 meaning  of  the  word.  For  this  I  have  forsaken  all  hopes,  all  friends,  all 
 desires  whicli  might  bias  me  and  hinder  me  from  driving  right  at  what  I 
 aimed.  For  tliis  I  have  spent  my  money,  my  means,  my  youth,  my  age, 
 and  all  I  have,  that  I  might  remove  from  myself  that  censure  of  Tertullian 
 — Suo  vitio  qi/i's  qjiid  ijrjiorat  ?  If  with  all  this  cost  and  pains  my  pur- 
 chase is  but  error,  I  may  safely  say,  to  err  has  cost  me  more  than  it  has 
 many  to  find  the  Truth  ;  and  Truth  itself  shall  give  me  this  testimony  at 
 last,  that  if  I  have  missed  of  her,  it  is  not  my  fault,  but  my  misfortune." 
 
 These  two  quotations,  moreover,  suggest  one  final  remark  :  It  is  im- 
 possible to  hear  or  read  them  without  noting  the  philosophical  equanimity, 
 the  calm  self-reliance,  the  invincible  consciousness  of  rectitude,  the  imper- 
 turbable tranquillity  which  both  share  alike,  and  which  emanates  from  them 
 like  a  deej)  undertone  of  music.  Now  the  Greek  Skeptics  afifirmed — it  was 
 a  cardinal  article  in  their  belief — that  the  investigation  of  Truth  induced 
 that  high  philosophical  attitude  which  they  termed  Ataraxia,  i.e.,  mental 
 serenity,  and  this  apart  from  any  particular  conclusion  to  which  the  in- 
 quiry might  lead.  These  utterances  surely  tend  to  prove  that  a  similar 
 condition  might  be  induced  in  ourselves  by  a  persistent  employment  in  the 
 search  and  propagation  of  Truth  of  those  reasoning  powers  which  we  may 
 conceive  were  given  us  for  that  purpose.  Whatever  be  our  personal  success 
 or  defeat,  it  is  no  small  gain  to  feel  assurance,  that  not  only  will  the  enter- 
 prise bring   with  it  indirectly  its  own  reward,  but  that  in  the  proportion 
 
THE  RELIGIOUS  ASPECTS   OF  SKEPTICISM.  767 
 
 that  we  can  promote  the  cause  of  free  inquiry,  rouse  men  from  the  lethargy 
 of  Dogma,  and  impel  them  in  the  path  of  Truth-search,  in  the  same'  pro- 
 portion are  we  advancing  the  noblest  culture  and  the  highest  interests  of 
 our  fellow-men. 
 
768 
 
 THE  MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  BEARINGS 
 OF  THE  EVOLUTION  THEORY. 
 
 By  Miss  Bevington. 
 
 In  trying  to  give  an  account  of  the  great  philosophical  creed  of  our 
 lime  one  is  tempted  to  write  a  volume.  Its  credentials  seem  to  press  for 
 notice  no  less  than  its  gist,  and  one  would  gladly  offer  evidence  of  its  truth 
 before  describing  the  part  it  plays  as  creed  and  as  code  in  the  consciousness 
 of  its  adherents.  But  in  this  book  we  are  concerned  less  with  the  theo- 
 retical justification  of  our  respective  bodies  of  doctrine  than  with  their 
 presentation  as  they  stand  related  to  the  moral  and  religious  life  of  man- 
 kind. In  the  present  chapter,  therefore,  the  merest  outline  and  the 
 broadest  general  features  of  the  evolution  theory  alone  are  given,  the  main 
 effort  being  directed  to  making  as  clear  as  may  be  the  precise  way  in 
 which  the  holding  of  the  theory  naturally  affects  the  will,  the  conduct,  the 
 conscience,  and  the  religious  sentiment  of  individuals. 
 
 Primarily  the  doctrine  is  not  a  religion.  It  is  the  least  inaccurate 
 account  that  can  as  yet  be  given  of  a  general  natural  process.  Scientific 
 research  arrived  at  its  concrete  evidences,  scientific  philosophy  caught 
 sight  of  its  abstract  significance,  while  engaged  in  the  pursuit  of  natural, 
 actual  truth,  "  for  truth's  sake,"  and  not  for  any  other  sake  at  all.  But  the 
 vastness  and  the  i)ersistence  of  the  uniformities  that  science  brings  to  light 
 do  much  to  strengthen  and  deepen  that  "  indefinite  consciousness  of 
 existence  transcending  relations  "  which  Herbert  Spencer  recognises  as  the 
 '•  essence  of  religion."  More  than  this  is  true.  The  theory  of  evolution 
 brings  with  it  implications  which  are  calculated  to  affect  religiously  the 
 emotions,  and  to  affect  morally  the  conduct  of  any  one  who  has  really 
 grasped  it,  by  giving  him  the  most  solemn  and  intimate  sense  of  actual 
 relationship  with  and  participation  in  that  supreme  Energy  of  which  the 
 universe,  within  as  without  the  mind  of  man,  is  the  manifestation  and  the 
 working  aspect. 
 
 I.  The  process  into  whose  regular  workings  evolutionists  believe  them- 
 selves to  have  obtained  a  glimpse,  accurate  even  where  not  comi)rehensive, 
 is  nothing  less  sublime  than  that  of  the  conversion  of  chaos — or  featureless 
 confusion — into  form,  order,  life,  thought,  will,  antl  all  that  lies  on  the 
 hither  side  of  these. 
 
 Even  when,  as  in  the  hands  of  Herbert  Spencer,  the  theory  is  compre- 
 hensively applied,  and  serves  as  key-note  to  a  philosophy  of  the  whole 
 material,  mechanical,  mental,  and  moral  universe,  it  still  remains  strictly 
 scientific,  since  it  is  only  this  universe  as  knowable  and  thinkable — this 
 universe,  so  far  as  our  present  powers  can  conceive  it  as  built  up  out  of 
 observed  natural  factors— that  is  treated  of. 
 
THE  EVOLUTION   THEORY.  769 
 
 As  science,  the  first  thing  the  doctrine  appeals  to  is  the  hungry,  truth - 
 seeking  part  of  the  intellect,  and  the  hardy,  truth-loving  corner  of  the 
 conscience.  The  human  mind  at  its  best  has  already  reached  a  stage  of 
 moral  development  when  truth  at  all  hazards  is  believed  in  as  valuable, 
 and  its  pursuit  more  and  more  encouraged  by  that  "  still,  small  voice  " 
 which  makes  so  little  of  personal  self-seeking.  The  moral  doctrine  in- 
 closed within  the  theory  is  nothing  other  than  the  actual  law  of  life — the 
 law,  that  is,  according  to  which  life  is  developed  and  ennobled,  its  liberties 
 secured,  and  its  powers  effectualized — as  this  law  stands  revealed  in  the 
 open,  but  closely  written  book  of  natural  fact. 
 
 The  peculiar  characteristic  of  the  evolution  doctrine  is  that  it  begins  and 
 ends  at  natural  history.  All  that  is  is  regarded  as  natural,  and  all  that 
 iiappens  is  regarded  as  resulting  from  the  liberation  of  tendencies  inherent 
 in  nature.  It  treats  of  the  normal  and  constant  workings  of  things  every- 
 where and  always  among  and  upon  one  another.  It  discloses  the  part 
 played  l)y  these  constant  workings  in  the  origination,  the  development, 
 the  consummation,  and  the  natural  dissolution  of  tliis  or  that  individual 
 phenomenon.  It  notes  the  absolute  constancy  of  relations,  the  invariable 
 sequence  in  which  changes  occur.  It  points  out  how  phenomena  are 
 everywhere  and  incessantly  emerging  in  one  f  articular  7C'av  out  of  earlier 
 phenomena,  and  as  incessantly  merging  into  yet  others  ;  and  how  all  that 
 is  passes  through  phases  without  jolts  or  breaks, — no  change  anywhere  or 
 anyhow  occurring  without  affecting  a  change  also  in  whatever  is  in  any  sort 
 of  present  relation  to  the  incident  agency. 
 
 The  theory  includes  the  natural  history  of  morals,  of  conscience,  of 
 religious  systems,  and  of  the  religious  sentiment  itself  The  evolutionist 
 jireacher  might  take  as  his  text  the  words,  "This  do,  and  thou  shalt  live"; 
 but  as  a  fact  science  is  addicted  rather  to  stating  than  to  preaching.  Yet 
 it  is  this  very  fact,  that  a  luminous  and  universally  applicable  code  of 
 righteousness  has  been  come  upon,  so  to  speak,  incidentally,  growing 
 naturally  like  a  hardy  wild  flower  right  in  the  broad  daylight  and  open 
 highway  of  science  Irnlj  so  called,  that  gives  to  the  evolution  theory  its 
 special  ethical  significance  at  the  present  critical  juncture  of  human  affairs 
 and  of  human  speculation.  Since  it  has  been  formulated,  the  actual  mean- 
 ing of  conscience  has  loomed  into  sight.  The  natural  history  of  that 
 strange  compunction  which,  within  the  individual,  pleads  independently  of 
 the  individual  in  behalf  of  something  more  permanent  than  himself  is  spelt 
 out  between  tlie  lines  of  the  natural  history  of  Society — Society  being  an 
 aggregate  of  interdependent  individuals,  each  more  or  less  at  the  mercy  of 
 all,  all  more  or  less  at  the  mercy  of  each. 
 
 II.  So  mucli  for  a  general  indication  of  the  gist  of  our  doctrine.  Now 
 for  an  outline  of  tlie  chief  constituent  dicla  of  the  theory  itself 
 
 Inhering  in  everything  and  manifested  in  everything  is  an  energy  or 
 cause,  which,  however,  eludes  scientific  analysis,  and  remains  in  its  entirety 
 and  its  absolute  nature  for  ever  beyond  the  reach  of  thought  and  imagina- 
 
 voL.  I.     pt   2.  3  E 
 
770  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 tion.  Its  effects  are  perceptible  to  us  under  the  aspect  of  nature  and 
 natural  law.  So  far  as  these  effects  can  be  observed  they  are  characterized 
 by  complete  essential  uniformity.  Like  conditions  always  and  everywhere 
 issue  in  like  result.  Hence  the  belief  that  the  under-lying  and  all-pervad- 
 ing force  is  single  and  identical.  It  is  also  conceived  as  unlimited  in 
 time  and  space,  and  as  absolutely  persistent  and  inexhaustible  :  "the  same 
 yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever." 
 
 Meanwhile  the  ultimate  nature  of  the  primal  Energy  eludes  comprehen- 
 sion, because  that  which  underlies,  is  antecedent  to,  and  includes  the  very 
 conditions  of  sense,  thought,  and  knowledge  eludes  any  possible  or  con- 
 ceivable extension  of  these  powers  as  such.  That  Power  in  which  we 
 "  live,  move,  and  have  our  being  "  is  real,  but  is  not  "  by  searching  "  to  be 
 "found  out."     It  remains  unknown  and  unknowable. 
 
 III.  The  evolution  story  begins  at  the  knowable.  Inherent  in  every 
 part  or  point  of  the  known  universe  there  appear  to  be  two  antagonist 
 tendencies.  Each  ultimate  unit  of  existence,  whether  we  call  it  for  con- 
 venience an  "atom  of  matter"  or  a  "centre  of  force,"  tends  persistently  to 
 "gravitate,"  that  is,  to  approach,  combine  with,  and  settle  in  with  the  rest 
 of  things;  and  yet  it  tends  no  less  persistently  to  keep  aloof.  Even  when 
 and  while  in  close  combination,  it  still  tends  to  release  itself,  as  itself. 
 Any  aggregate  of  any  kind  is  therefore,  by  force  of  these  contrary  ten- 
 dencies in  its  contained  units,  constantly  tending  to  pull  together,  and  as 
 constantly  tending  to  go  to  pieces.  If  the  former  tendency  is  the  stronger, 
 the  aggregate  keeps  together,  consolidates,  concentrates,  and  loses  its  super- 
 fluous motion  ;  it  gets  less  fidgety  and  loose,  more  and  more  busy  and 
 connected,  adjusts  its  parts  within  itself,  adapts  itself  to  whatever  it  has  to 
 do  with  in  its  external  environment, — in  a  word,  organizes,  and  begins  to 
 act  as  a  whole  made  up  of  parts  having  a  common  interest.  This  whole, 
 once  formed,  develops  more  powers  (and  more  various  powers)  of  affect- 
 ing its  environment,  and  of  effecting  that  which  its  own  sustentation 
 requires.  If  this  process  continue  long  enougii  unhindered,  the  atigregate 
 goes  on  to  what  may  be  called  its  completion,  consummation,  or  perfection. 
 That  is,  it  reaches  a  stage  where  its  needs  and  proclivities  are  e.xactly 
 balanced  by  external  occasion  ;  its  function  is  entirely  fulfilled.  No 
 further  advance  is  possible,  its  harmony  with  the  conditioning  environment 
 being  at  length  perfectly  established. 
 
 Evolution  is  the  name  given  to  the  process  by  which  the  formative 
 tendency  takes  effect.  The  opposite  process,  representing  the  antagonistic 
 tendency,  is  called  Dissolution. 
 
 IV.  The  transformation  of  chaos  into  cosmos  is  an  "eternal"  process; 
 that  is,  it  tends  at  every  instant  to  go  on  everywhere.,  so  far  as  not  thwarted 
 by  dissolution.  Its  order  is  always  alike.  It  can  at  every  point  be  analysed 
 into  a  definite  mode  of  behaviour  on  the  part  of  the  "  raw  material  "  of 
 the  particular  phenomenon  under  observation,  whicli  responds  everywhere 
 and  always  in  the  same  manner  on  the  same  provocation.     The  uniform 
 
THE  EVOLUTION   THEORY,  77' 
 
 persistent  energy,  or  principle  of  occurrence,  is  manifested  through  all 
 orders  of  phenomena,  the  mental,  moral  and  spiritual  no  less  than  the 
 so  called  material  and  meclianical  departments  of  nature.  The  least 
 resisted  action  of  the  evolving  form  of  energy  at  any  point  whatever  thrcjugh 
 the  striving  cosmos  results  constantly  and  instantly  in  the  formation  of  a 
 definite  something, — a  something  possessing  a  greater  or  less  degree  of 
 coherent  i)ersistence  as  itself— 3.%  a  centre  of  influence  affecting  the  forma- 
 tion and  development  of  things  subordinately  related  to  it. 
 
 V.  We  are  able  with  more  or  less  precision  to  detect  the  process  of 
 evolution  going  on  in  its  very  various  stages  simultaneously.  Here  we 
 seem  to  detect  it  in  its  crudest  stage,  where  matter-intnotion  or  motion- 
 iii-inatter  goes  swirling  about  nebulously  in  the  way  that  is  believed  to 
 eventuate  in  the  formation  of  suns  and  systems  of  worlds,  and  all  that 
 come  of  these.  Removing  our  glance,  we  find  the  identical  principle 
 again  working,  where  a  vague  sensibility  in  some  low  order  of  animal  is 
 tending  to  concentrate  itself  into  eyes  and  sight,  ears  and  hearing,  and 
 all  that  comes  of  these.  Again,  a  number  of  living  beings — ants,  bees,  or 
 men — are  finding  circumstance  too  strong  for  them  severally,  and  are 
 banding  together  to  lighten  one  another's  burdens,  aid  one  another's 
 endeavours,  pull  with  one  another,  and  for  dear  life's  sake  in  each  indi- 
 vidual, to  live  agreeably  to  one  another  ;  and  so  are  coalescing  into  a 
 compact  society,  and  all  that  comes  of  this.  Again,  a  loose  collection  of 
 facts  and  experiences  in  the  brain  of  some  thinker  is  tending  to  become 
 coherent,  and  to  take  the  shape  of  a  definite  and  lucid  theory,  and  all 
 that  comes  of  it. 
 
 All  through  space  and  time,  all  through  the  whole  field  of  matter,  motion, 
 mind,  and  morals,  this  tendency  to  take  on  shape  and  being,  and  to  become 
 definite,  effectual,  and  independent,  is  eternally  going  on.  There  is  always 
 the  initial  vagueness  and  blundering,  the  loose  consistency,  the  waste  of 
 material  and  of  motion.  Then,  if  the  progress  be  undisturbed,  an  increasing 
 concentration  of  essentials  and  dissipcttion  of  non-essentials  takes  place,  ac- 
 companied by  better  and  better  internal  adaptation  of  structure  to  the  work 
 required,  and  better  and  better  adjustment  to  the  external  conditions.  It  is 
 the  same  whether  we  regard  the  sentient  and  intelligent  forms  of  existence, 
 or  the  works  of  their  hands,  or  the  modes  of  their  association.  The  more 
 excellent  the  steam-engine,  the  less  clumsy  and  the  more  finely  complicated 
 is  its  structure,  the  less  its  noise  and  bustle,  and  the  less  its  waste  of  fuel  and 
 steam  in  proportion  to  the  work  done.  The  finished  artist,  while  producing 
 a  drawing  precisely  and  beautifully  essential  to  his  ideal  intention,  has,  by 
 rightly  directed  efforts,  got  into  habits  of  eye  and  of  manipulation  which 
 make  him  able  to  fulfil  his  design  without  the  false  or  superfluous  strokes 
 of  the  i)encil  which  hinder  the  full  effect  in  mere  students'  work,  or  the 
 constant  use  of  the  eraser  necessary  to  the  achievement  by  raw  beginners 
 of  still  more  inadequate  representation.  The  higher  a  governmental  ideal, 
 the  better  is  the  opportunity  afforded  to  the  harmless  activities  of  the 
 
772  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 ruled  citizens,  the  more  adequate  is  their  protection  from  antagonist  in- 
 fluences at  home  and  abroad,  the  fewer  and  the  sh'ghter  are  the  restrictions 
 on  the  hberty  of  citizens,  while  the  legal  code  becomes  more  discriminate, 
 and  more  minutely  adaptable  to  single  cases.  The  more  elevated  a  religious 
 cult  becomes,  the  less  its  need  of  pompous  and  irrelevant  accessories  in 
 pro]  ortion  to  the  strength  of  appeal  it  makes  to  the  devout  sensibilities  of 
 the  worshippers.  The  better  the  man — the  more  perfect  the  moral  char- 
 acter— the  less  is  the  need  of  side-inducements  to  beneficent  conduct, 
 the  prompter  and  stronger  are  the  conscientious  decisions,  and  the  fewer 
 the  injurious  errors  made  in  aiming  at  the  due  welfare  of  others  or  in 
 claiming  the  due  rights  of  self  or  party. 
 
 This  then  is  the  picture  nature  presents  us  everywhere  of  an  evolving 
 individual  thing,  as  of  the  evolving  universe  as  a  whole.  Featureless  raw 
 mnterial  settling  into  definite  form  ;  vague  and  simple  motion  becoming 
 determinate  and  complex ;  dim  sentience  tending  to  intelligence  and  will  j 
 crudities  of  every  kind  in  every  department  of  social  life  giving  place  to 
 well-adjusted,  clearly  defined  arrangement;  instinctive  moral  proclivities 
 growing  discriminate  and  appropriate  :  everywhere  and  persistently,  how- 
 ever, thwarted  and  resisted  by  an  antagonist  tendency,  inherent  in  the 
 component  parts,  to  reverse  and  undo  and  to  make  of  none  effect  all 
 that  has  been  painfully,  slowly,  and  at  great  cost  secured  along  the  narrow 
 line  that  "  leadeth  unto  life."  The  whole  creation,  in  very  deed,  has 
 long  groaned  and  travailed  in  i)ain,  before  the  glorious  liberty  of  a  chosen 
 few,  inheritors  of  "  kingdom  " — i.e.  of  power,  right,  light,  and  freedom — 
 rewards  the  sacrifice.  This  is  scientific  fact,  not  merely  dogmatic  formula. 
 The  evolution  doctrine  does  not  "  destroy  the  letter,"  but  everywhere,  so 
 far  as  any  "letter"  happens  fitly  to  express,  and  in  permanently  fit  terms, 
 the  gist  of  a  permanent  natural  truth,  it  fulfils  or  affords  aid  to  the  ful- 
 filment of  that  fit  letter.  Along  the  line  of  natural  force  when  working 
 evolutionally  lie  amelioration  and  adjustment,  the  reduction  of  evil  and 
 harm  and  miscarriage  at  any  point  to  a  minimum,  the  adequate  employ- 
 ment of  resource  for  the  next  step  forward,  and  so,  the  advance  towards 
 a  consummation  which,  as  a  whole  and  at  every  conscious  point,  justifies 
 all  the  time  and  all  the  travail  that  have  been  expended  in  arriving  at  it. 
 
 The  moral  question  is  :  "Shall  we,  or  shall  we  not,  fall  in  with  this 
 process  ?  shall  we  strive  to  understand  Nature's  infallible  way  of  ordering, 
 of  vivifying,  of  ennobling,  and  finally  of  liberating  \\Ktx  own  material?  Or, 
 shall  we  go  on  refusing  to  learn,  hugging  our  foregone  conclusions,  and 
 prolonging  the  struggle — so  wasting  and  weakening  those  very  i)owers, 
 mental,  emotional,  and  volitional,  which  by  the  slow  process  of  evolution 
 have  been  so  painfully  won  for  us  and  committed  to  our  trust  to  carry 
 further?  shall  we  yield  up  these  powers  (which  arc  thus  not  solely  "our 
 own,"  but  "bought  with  a  price "),  in  the  cause  of  opi)osition,  retarda- 
 tion, or  even  reversal  of  the  beneficent  process  to  which  we  owe  them  ? 
 "Sin" — immorality — for  the    evolutionist  consists  in   the  voluntary   bin- 
 
THE  EVOLUTION   THEORY.  m 
 
 Jrance  of  or  resistance  to  the  universal  law  of  amelioration.  And  the 
 wage  of  sin  is  "  death,"  not  by  any  arbitrary  fiat  whatever,  but  because 
 death  is  the  actual,  natural  outcome  of  sin  so  viewed. 
 
 VI.  Although  the  end  is  better  than  the  beginning,  and  though  the 
 ultimate  outcome  of  evolution  is  the  lessening  of  evils  and  the  increase  of 
 welfare  for  survivors,  still  the  process  is  characterized  throughout  by  an 
 awful  severity.  True,  it  is  the  very  inexorableness  with  which  all  that  is 
 insufficiently  adapted  to  the  exigences  of  existence  is  "  improved  away," 
 which  eventually  secures  the  supremacy  and  further  development  of  the 
 higher  forms  of  life.  True,  that  so  there  emerge  on  the  scene,  at  last, 
 intelligent  beings  able  to  look  before  and  after  ;  and  moral  beings,  possess- 
 ing compassions  and  compunctions,  and  able  increasingly  to  soften  the 
 asperities  of  the  cosmical  struggle.  But  meanwhile,  the  irretrievable  loss 
 and  defeat  of  the  less  adapted,  by  which  the  forward  march  of  surviving 
 races  has  been  achieved,  is  terrific.  The  stern  lesson  must  not  be  flinched 
 that  there  is  in  the  universal  economy  no  respect  of  persons;  that  rain  falls 
 alike  on  the  evil  and  on  the  good;  that  falling  towers  crush,  and  lava- 
 torrents  smother — not  men  rated  by  their  fellows  as  specially  sinners,  but 
 those  whose  carelessness  or  ignorance  leaves  them  within  the  dangerous 
 area.  All  who  do  not  turn  away  will  likewise  perish.  The  severity  of  the 
 lesson  becomes  even  more  suggestive  when  we  note  that  this  identical  law 
 prevails  also  in  the  moral  life— not  "  ideal "  morals,  but  fit  morals  being 
 ever  the  surviving  type.  The  severity  of  the  lesson  becomes  even  more 
 suggestive,  when  we  note  that  this  identical  law  prevails  also  in  the  moral 
 life — not  "ideal  morals,"  but  fit  morals  being  ever  the  surviving  type. 
 Nature  recognises  in  the  individual  but  one  virtue  :  obedience,  conscious, 
 or  unconscious — voluntary  or  involuntary — to  the  immediate  demands  of 
 the  law  of  life.  She  punislies  in  the  individual  but  one  vice :  breach  of 
 tlie  law  of  life.  Error  is  never  specially  excused  as  unintentional.  Help- 
 lessness (for  the  whole  truth  must  be  spoken)  is  never  specially  shielded. 
 That  race  is  helped  which  helps  itself  Those  escape  whom  a  self-helpful 
 ancestry  has  provided  with  a  constitutional  panoply.  Whether  an  error 
 be  ignorant,  or  wilful,  makes  no  difference  to  the  immediate  result  of  that 
 error.  Reward  and  penalty,  as  dealt  by  pre-human  nature,  are  always  "in 
 kind." 
 
 Everywhere,  the  different  existences  in  different  stages  of  the  process 
 are  meeting  one  another  and  fighting  it  out  from  their  several  achieved 
 standpoints ;  and  sometimes  the  less  advanced  is  in  stronger  force  than 
 the  more  advanced,  and  the  contest  results  in  the  discomfiture  and  disso- 
 lution of  the  better  evolved,  which  is  then  once  more  reduced  to  "  raw 
 material"  or  dragged  back  to  the  simpler  but  less  efficient  point  of  vantage 
 occupied  by  the  conqueror. 
 
 This  event,  wherever  it  occurs,  constitutes  the  pathos, — the  "  evil  " 
 of  the  universe.  But  the  greater  the  degree  of  intelligent  and  moral — 
 in  a  word,  of  human — evolution  that  is  reached,  the  greater  is  the  power  of 
 
774  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 avoiding  such  evil.  Shall  we  not  become  as  Httle  children,  and  learn  what 
 is  the  actual  law  by  which  to  ward  off  catastrophe,  on  one  hand,  and  degene- 
 raiion,  on  the  other,  that  so  we  may  do  something  towards  consummating 
 the  total  endeavour  ?  Catastrophe,  however,  occurs  most  frequently  at 
 very  early  stages  of  the  general  advance  ;  for  instance,  while  the  upheavals 
 and  submergences,  the  heats  and  frosts,  floods  and  earthquakes,  to  which 
 a  comparatively  young  planet  is  liable  sweep  into  painful,  violent,  and  in- 
 effectual death  whole  races  of  lowly  animals.  (It  is  said  that  the  contorted 
 attitudes  in  which  whole  generations  of  fishes  are  found  fossilized  in  rocks 
 evidences  that  these  creatures,  already  possessing  nervous  systems,  died 
 in  agony.)  As  the  planet  itself  evolves, — that  is,  cools  and  settles, — it 
 becomes  better  fitted  for  life,  it  exhibits  less  bluster  of  elemental  forces, 
 more  and  more  firmness  of  surface,  greater  and  greater  precision  of 
 seasons  .;  and  so  living  forms  get  not  only  more  and  more  opi)ortunity  of 
 appearing  (for  they  appear  to  be  incidental  to  a  comparatively  very  limited 
 range  of  temperature),  but  are  less  and  less  hindered  in  the  slow,  here- 
 ditary work  of  developing  into  distinct  races. 
 
 VII.  The  same  contest  reappears  when,  having  arrived,  several  races 
 find  themselves  competitors  for  the  means  of  subsistence.  So  within  the 
 limits  of  an  identical  race,  when  the  individuals  find  themselves  com- 
 petitors for  mates.  In  each  living  creature  the  eternal  Energy  has  effected 
 a  centre  and  starting-point  for  further  exertion  along  the  lifeward  line  ; 
 and  the  loftier  and  fitter  the  creature,  the  better  is  the  channel  grooved 
 through  its  own  proclivities  for  further  progress.  Life  once  possessed 
 does  not  readily  "  let  go  "  ;  and  then  there  arises  the  already  proverbial  and 
 generally  recognised  "struggle  for  existence"  between  life  and  life,  species 
 and  species.  In  each  case  alike  the  successfully  equipped  competitor 
 in  the  strife  sitrvives  to  leave  a  posterity ;  and  so  far  as  his  strength, 
 agility,  or  cunnin.^  become  ingrain  and  organic  does  he,  by  the  (still  only 
 dimly  understood)  law  of  heredity,  hand  on  to  his  posterity  the  tendency 
 to  repeat  the  action  which  has  been  ancestrally  successful,  by  dint  o.f 
 handing  on  the  organized  innate  aptitudes — the  natural  habits  or  "func- 
 tions "  of  a  "  structure  "  which,  originally  forced  on  the  ancestor  by  the 
 necessity  of  hard  experience,  is  then  finally  inherited  by  the  posterity 
 ready-made. 
 
 Of  course  it  is  only  very  slowly  that  the  active  experiences  of  a  living 
 creature  get  thus  consolidated  into  habit,  whether  manial,  or  wary,  or 
 defensive  ;  and  it  is  only  so  fast  as  habit  becomes  second  nature,  and 
 considerably  modifies  nervous  structure,  that  it  becomes  hereditary  and 
 instinctive.  The  very  tissues  of  the  living  organism  have  to  get  into  tlie 
 recjuired  habit  before  this  is  the  case.  Nervous  structure  appears  to  be 
 almost  infinitely  modifiable  ;  it  can  be,  so  to  speak,  hardened  and  inured 
 where  useless  but  unavoidable  friction  is  persistently  relocated.  It  may 
 be  quickened,  and  rendered  more  and  more  sensitive  and  preparetl  for 
 response   to  circumstance,   in   a   thousand    ways.      And    everything  goes 
 
THE  EVOLUTION  THEORY.  775 
 
 increasingly  to  show  that  the  mental,  emotional,  moral,  and  spiritual  life 
 of  organized  beings  is  bound  up  with  and  related  to  their  nervous  life 
 as  closely  as  the  convex  of  a  mathematical  curve  is  related  to  the  concave 
 of  the  same  curve. 
 
 VIII.  The  hereditary  habits  or  instincts  of  the  intellectual  and  moral 
 life  of  man  are  set  up  in  the  same  way  and  by  the  persistent  working  of 
 the  same  essential  principle  of  experience  as  are  the  hereditary  habits  or 
 instincts  of  the  physical  life.  Each  instinct  tends  to  establish  itself  firmly 
 in  proportion  as  it  is  of  use  to  the  organism  in  the  exercise  of  its  vital 
 functions.  It  then  gets  spontaneously  and  constantly  exercised  ;  and 
 exercise  strengthens  it  and  develops  it  further.  In  the  moral  sphere  this 
 amounts  to  the  formation  of  character.  If  the  organism,  however,  be  so 
 situated  that  its  inherited  instincts  get  in  its  way,  are  of  no  use  to  it 
 further,  or  bring  about  more  antagonism  from  its  competitors  than  increase 
 to  its  own  resources — then  does  the  instinct,  though  never  so  firmly  rooted, 
 tend  to  lose  strength  and  persistence  ;  and  if  its  exercise  be  continuously 
 disadvantageous  to  the  general  comfort  or  convenience  of  its  possessor 
 tiie  structure  in  which  the  propensity  sits  loses  its  definiteness  ;  the  habit 
 is  "got  out  of,"  the  instinct  lost,  and  this  re-modification,  if  repeated  long 
 enough  in  the  experience  of  successive  generations  of  individuals,  becomes 
 in  its  turn  hereditary.  In  this  way  man  first  learnt  to  be  a  fine  fighting 
 creature,  and  then  as  conditions  of  welfare  changed,  had  to  begin  un- 
 learning it. 
 
 Now  when  we  consider  that  all  this  is  exactly  as  true  of  moral  char- 
 acteristics, intellectual  proclivities,  spiritual  cravings,  and  aesthetic  aptitudes 
 as  it  is  of  the  physical  instincts  themselves,  an  enormous  significance  is 
 given  to  such  evolutional  expressions  as  the  "  survival  of  the  fittest,"  or 
 to  the  stern  and  equally  scientific  truth,  that  "  to  him  that  hath  shall  be 
 given,  and  to  him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  which  he 
 seemeth  to  have."  Fitness  to  meet  the  emergencies  of  life  is  the  one 
 thing  that  nature  demands  in  every  organism  which  is  to  survive,  to 
 perfect  what  powers  it  has,  and  to  develop  new  and  higher  orders  of 
 power.  The  longer  any  species,  or  any  individual,  remains  master  of  the 
 situation,  the  better  fitted  does  it  become  to  that  precise  situation.  It 
 wastes  less  and  less  resource;  its  action  becomes  ever  neater  and  apter; 
 its  control  of  its  environment  becomes  easier ;  it  blunders  less  and  less, 
 and  turns  experience  ever  better  and  better  to  its  own  account.  If,  how- 
 ever, while  still  in  a  crude  condition,  it  remains  undisturbed  long  enough, 
 it  will  get  so  "  fit"  and  so  comfortable  and  so  masterful,  that  it  will  settle 
 together  into  itself,  lose  its  internal  flexibility  and  elasticity  more  and  more, 
 and  sink  into  that  final  equilibrium  which  precludes  any  further  power  of 
 advance.  It  will,  so  to  speak,  fossilize.  But  in  a  world  where  so  many 
 orders  of  living  beings  are  competing  for  like  benefits,  tliere  is  little 
 opportunity  for  this  "  gaining  of  the  whole  world,"  which,  in  a  very  real 
 sense,  and  wherever  it  occurs,  does  indeed  involve  the  loss  of  the  gainer's 
 
776  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 "soul."  The  actual  lapse  of  those  activities  in  which  intelligent  moral 
 and  spiritual  vitality  consists,  and  on  which  the  continuity  of  character 
 and  the  possibility  of  ennoblement  depend,  is,  as  a  fact,  bound  up  with 
 over-much  prosperity  as  a  normal  consequence.  The  "soul"  (or  character), 
 like  the  body,  must  keep  on  working  in  order  to  live;  and  when  it  has  no 
 longer  to  contend  for  survival,  it  tends  to  degenerate,  and,  as  "  soul,"  to 
 disappear.  This  paradoxical  fact  gees  far  to  justify,  even  from  a  ideological 
 point  of  view,  the  grim  universal  law  of  struggle,  and  the  continued  atmos- 
 phere of  opposition  with  which  whatever  is  noblest  is  constantly  surrounded. 
 "  God,"  versus  "  mammon  "  :  integrity,  versus  comfort :  effort,  versus  re- 
 pose; the  "soul,"  versus  the  "  world"  :— such  is  the  choice  eternally 
 presented  ;  and  the  utmost  that  science  justifies  us  in  desiring,  is  a  con- 
 dition in  which  the  necessary  lifeward  effort  of  higher  beings  shall  have 
 come  to  be  so  far  instinctive  as  to  be  itself  a  source  of  pleasure  to  those 
 who  have  to  make  it ;  while,  through  the  increasing  accuracy  of  its  direc- 
 tion, and  oppositeness  of  its  method,  it  entails  ever  less  and  less  harass- 
 ment and  distress  to  such  lowlier  claimants  on  life  as  stand  in  its  way. 
 
 IX.  Evolution  then  is  the  law  of  lifeivardness  as  evidenced  throughout 
 nature.  I  use  the  clumsy  word  "  lifewardness "  rather  than  "  life  "  for 
 two  reasons.  First,  because  the  evolution  of  a  world,  as  such,  is  already 
 "in  full  swing  "  and  some  way  advanced  before  any  phenomena  appear  to 
 which  the  word  "  life  "  is  api^licable.  To  the  second  reason  for  using 
 the  word  I  will  return  later.  Meanwhile,  the  theory  regards  life  as  on  the 
 icay  wherever  a  world  is  cooling,  wl'.erever  motion  in  masses  of  matter 
 is  externally  lessening,  and  internally  breaking  up  into  complex  vibrations  ; 
 wherever  a  quivering  tissue  is  responding  more  and  more  minutely  to 
 changes  in  the  environment. 
 
 The  life  of  any  organism  consists  in  its  power  of  carrying  on  the  process 
 pf  self-adjustment.  Herbert  Spencer  calls  life  "a  moving  equilibrium." 
 Inside  itself  no  aggregate  is  ever  at  rest;  as  it  is  at  one  instant  it  quite 
 certainly  will  tiot  be  the  next  instant ;  and  unless  sometliing  happen  to 
 balance  and  compensate  a  change  in  one  part  of  it,  it  will  tend  to  go  to 
 pieces.  But  life  is  an  ancestrally  acquired  tendency  in  the  component 
 parts  of  any  living  whole  to  respond  in  just  such  a  way  to  any  disturbing 
 influence  as  to  make  good  whatever  loss  occurs,  to  dismiss  whatever  is 
 injurious  or  burdensome,  and,  in  a  word,  to  readjust  continually,  and  even 
 to  derive  benefit  from  changes  in  its  environment. 
 
 The  decay  of  this  self-adjusting  power  involves  an  increase  in  the  ten- 
 dency to  dissolution.  There  is  no  neutral  ground  ;  and  there  is  no  stability 
 in  a  quiescently  neutral  or  exactly  balanced  condition.  What  is  not  an  active 
 carrying-on  of  life  is  a  slide  towards  death.  Death  is  the  total  cessation 
 of  the  adaptative  and  re-adjusting  power  on  part  of  the  organism  to  the 
 conditions  at  work  around  and  wiihin  it.  This  is  as  true  of  a  man  as  ot 
 a  fungus,  and  as  true  of  a  nation  as  of  a  man. 
 
 X.  Exactly  in  so  far  as  the  lifeward  principle  in  all  things  be  identified 
 
THE  EVOLUTION  THEORY.  777 
 
 with  "good"  must  the  deathward  principle  be  identified  with  "evil."  And 
 since  no  other  measure  of  good  is  traceable  throughout  the  natural  history 
 of  religious,  social,  or  philosophical  moral  creeds  than  life  in  some  form  or 
 other,  so  does  it  appear  that,  in  coming  upon  the  truth  concerning  the 
 actual  normal  laws  of  all  life,  we  disclose  incidentally  the  actual  normal 
 law  of  moral  life  and  of  duty. 
 
 This  needs  explanation.  And,  first,  it  brings  me  to  my  second  reason 
 for  choosing  the  word  "  lifewardness"  as  the  watchword  of  ethics  rather 
 than  the  word  "life."  All  life  is  evolved  on  one  principle  and  in  one 
 manner.  But  all  life  is  not  conducive  to  the  general  evolution  of  the 
 highc-st  life,  that  is,  to  the  development  of  individuals  possessing  those 
 functions  and  faculties  whose  normal  tendency  is  to  yield  a  maximum  of 
 well-being  all  round  with  a  minimum  everywhere  of  pain,  mistake,  and 
 hurtful  reaction. 
 
 Each  form  of  life  may  be  said  to  have  an  intrinsic  right  to  fulfil  the  law 
 of  its  own  being,  however  narrow  the  limits  of  that  being,  and,  having 
 done  so,  to  depart  in  peace.  But  there  is,  in  very  deed,  high  life  and  /020 
 life  ;  i.e.  life  which,  in  the  mere  process  of  fulfilling  its  own  bent,  carries 
 the  beneficent,  joy-enhancing,  pain-removing  cosmical  process  on  farther 
 and  quicker  ;  and  life  which,  while  in  itself  reaching  no  high  or  fine  degree 
 of  awareness, — no  definite  faculty,  on  the  one  hand,  nor  adequate  aim, 
 on  the  other, — does  also,  in  pursuit  of  its  own  less-alive  claims,  obstruct, 
 baffle,  and  distress  the  normal  progress  of  such  forms  of  life  as  more 
 completely  and  less  wastefuUy  bring  about  some  long-delayed  consum- 
 mation which  dignifies  with  meanings  and  appropriate  result  the  cosmical 
 struggle. 
 
 Happiness  is  the  result  of  complete  correspondence  between  constitution 
 and  occasion,  between  need  and  resource,  between  faculty  and  oppor- 
 tunity, between  clainj  and  recognition.  In  a  word,  it  implies  adaptation, 
 — a  fit  adjustment  between  the  living  organism  and  the  conditions  of  its 
 life — and  is  so  far  intrinsically  good  wherever  it  occurs.  But  then  comes 
 in  the  rivalry  between  that  which  is  only  intrinsically  fit,  and  that  which  is 
 fit  both  in  itself  and  in  its  relation  to  other  fit  things.  Regard  must  there- 
 fore be  had  as  to  the  kind  of  happiness  sought  and  recommended;  that  is, 
 to  the  sort  of  life  to  which  any  special  form  of  happiness  is  appropriate.  A 
 contented  condition  of  life  in  particular  \s  not  always  conducive  to  lifeward- 
 ness in  general.  There  are  low  orders  of  living  beings,  the  carrying  on  of 
 whose  own  normal  and  vital  functions  entails  distress  and  defeat  to  high 
 orders.  I  need  only  indicate  such  living  forms  as  fever-germs,  tubercle 
 bacilli,  cancer-growths;  as  parasites,  vermin,  and  deadly  serpents;  as 
 locust  armies  and  caterpillar  plagues  (such  as  that  now  working  havoc  in 
 t  le  forests  of  South  Germany) ;  further,  in  the  social  sphere  as  human 
 banditti,  swindling  firms,  anti-social  derivers  of  lucre  through  the  supply  of 
 adulterated  foods,  deleterious  quackeries,  desocializing  literature,  arts,  and 
 opportunities  ;  or   whose  success   involves  discouragement  and  hindrance 
 
77S  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 to  other  and  better-fitted  forms  of  human  nature.    Against  such  the  struggle 
 continues,  and  must  continue. 
 
 The  reason  why  the  advantage  of  highest  hfe  rather  than  the  promotion 
 of  Xxio.  in  general  is  made  a  criterion  of  true  progress  is  because  the  value 
 of  life  lies  largely  in  \\.%  freedom  from  7nisery  and  in  its  frecdo7n  to  operate. 
 And  the  more  keenly  sensitive  and  appreciative  living  individuals  are,  the 
 better  servants  are  they  of  the  whole  in  both  the  above  particulars  ;  and 
 obviously  these  better  servants  are  best  secured  and  encouraged  by  all  that 
 subserves  that  part  of  their  nature  which  binds  up  their  interests  with  that 
 of  the  rest.  Hurtful  forms  of  life  must  be  defeated,  if  only  for  the  sake  of 
 leaving  the  field  clear  for  beneficent  impulses  in  life.  The  socialized  being 
 has  the  widest  field  of  individual  feeling, — is  more  alive  than  any  less 
 advanced  type.  His  cosmical  "rights"  therefore  come  first.  Development 
 always  presents  like  features,  and  whatever  is  not  hindered  goes  on  de- 
 veloping, and  this  in  disregard  of  all  extrinsic  valuations  whatever. 
 
 Not  all  life,  then,  is  to  prevail.  Abstract  ethic  is,  strictly  speaking,  the 
 adjustment,  by  means  of  human  conduct,  of  the  universal  biological  law  to  the 
 requirements  of  the  most  highly  evolved,  and  to  such  creatures,  human  and 
 sub-human,  as  can  exist  together  with  mutual  advantage.  In  the  super- 
 session of  lower  kinds  is  the  general  lifeward  law  subserved. 
 
 The  highest  human  beings  are  the  most  socialized  ;  that  is,  those  in 
 whom  that  long-continued  process  of  taming  brought  to  bear  on  original 
 barbarism  (which  operates  by  means  of  public  opinion,  penalty,  and  reward, 
 and  which  is  known  as  "civilization"),  has  evoked  sensibilities  which  have 
 the  claims  and  the  welfare  of  fellow-creatures  for  their  natural  object,  and 
 which,  left  to  themselves,  dispose  the  individual  to  behave  in  a  manner 
 consistent  with  the  liberty  and  the  well-being  of  those  fellow-creatures.  The 
 best  men  and  women  are,  in  short,  those  whose  welfare  includes  and 
 implies  the  best  chance  of  welfare  for  all  the  rest. 
 
 XI.  Cosmical  emotion  has  been  called  "a  substitute  for  religion."  It  is  no 
 mere  substitute:  it  is  a  more  advanced  form  of  the  identical  religious  senti- 
 ment which  inspired  all  the  theologies,  from  fetichism  to  the  most  attenuated 
 form  of  theism  ;  a  sentiment  which  has  striven  to  give  account  of  itself  in 
 system  after  system  of  transcendental  dogma,  and  to  express  itself  in  the 
 visions  of  one  seer  after  another  in  all  ages.  This  expression  has  varied 
 with  time  and  place  ;  but  its  gist  has  always  been  identical.  Whether  it 
 be  Confucius,  Buddha,  Jesus,  Paul,  Emerson,  or  Spencer  who  speaks,  the 
 sentiment  remains  the  same :  a  sense  of  onc-ness  (or  ^/-oneness)  with  the 
 incomprehensible  and  eternal  power  by  which  all  things  consist  and  persist, 
 with  the  power  which  yields  life  and  the  law  of  life  ;  and,  further,  a  sense 
 of  submission  to  that  power,  of  sympathy  with  its  drift,  and  acquiesence  in 
 its  law.  Are  we  tempted  to  cavil  at  the  apparently  ruthless  way  in  which 
 all  merit  save  that  of  present  fitness  is  disregarded  in  the  selection  here  of 
 the  victims,  there  of  the  survivors  of  disaster  ?  We  must  remember  that  it 
 is  precisely  by  dint  of  thus  keeping  impartially  to  the  case  in  hand  that  tlie 
 
THE   EVOLUTIOX   THEORY.  779 
 
 fortuitous  flow  of  cause  and  effect  has,  in  very  fact,  slowly  yielded  all  the 
 wonders  of  the  living,  conscious,  and  moral  universe.  Last  of  all  arrives, 
 as  its  result,  that  life  whose  voluntary  movientum  is  actually  along  the  very 
 line  in  which  this  sternly-beneficent  process  eternally  moves  :  that  is,  the 
 life  of  conscious  and  perfect  freedom  ;  the  life  that  works  acquiescently, 
 accurately,  and  joyfully  with,  and  through,  and  by  means  of  the  cosmical 
 or  life-creating  Agency.  And  this  is  the  religious  life  itself.  As  to  the  cruel 
 cost  of  the  ill-adapted  by  the  way,  and  the  slowness  by  which  result  is 
 achieved  and  the  creature's  intelligence,  will,  and  free  conduct  at  length 
 sliaped  and  won  for  the  creative  cause, — the  evolutionist  must  sigh  like  the 
 rest.  But  he  sees  in  the  inherent  difficulty  and  awful  painfulness  of  the 
 effort  by  which  life  is  slowly  ennobled  and  liberty  slowly  secured,  cause 
 rather  for  wistful  sympathy  with  the  inscrutable  Agency  whose  "  effort  is 
 so  displayed  ;  and  he  values  the  more  sacredly  all  beautiful  and  excellent 
 things  that  have  been  thus  won  "as  by  fire."  His  sympathy  will  impel 
 him  to  pull  with  the  eternal  power  so  fast  as  he  learns  better  to  understand 
 its  drift,  direction  and  method  ;  and  so  to  do  one  human  Will's  utmost  to 
 diminish  the  cost  of  future  amelioration. 
 
 All  evolutionists  are  not  religious  ;  the  cynic  can  argue  glibly  enough 
 from  cosmical  facts  evolutionally  considered,  and  no  evolutionist  can 
 logically  trip  him  up.  But  then  neither  could  a  Muhammadan  nor  a 
 Christian.  The  proneness  to  religious  feeling  either  exists,  or  does  not 
 exist,  in  individuals ;  but  the  subject-matter  of  religion,  being  for  ever  pre- 
 cisely something  which  lies  beyond  the  realm  of  definition,  can,  of  course, 
 never  be  demonstrated.  "  Wherefore,"  says  the  ultramontane,  "  let  us  dog- 
 matize; for  without  religious  dogma  how  are  we  to  justify  and  support 
 conscience  and  moral  principle?"  The  evolutionist  replies:  "Fortu- 
 nately for  truthfulness  and  consistency,  the  scientific  study  of  morality 
 reveals  it  as  not  dependent  on  the  fluctuations  of  ihe  religious  sentiment. 
 The  two  are  of  distinct  origin,  and  in  their  nature  and  function  are  largely 
 independent  of  one  another.  True,  advanced  moralists,  arising  in  periods 
 and  places  characterized  by  a  high  degree  of  civilization,  have  enforced 
 "  morality,"  or  duty  to  man,  as  the  highest  form  of  "  piety,"  or  deference  to 
 God.  True,  that  such  teachers  have  repeatedly  and  instinctively  so  blended 
 the  worship  of  the  Creator  with  mercy  and  justice  toward  the  creature  as  to 
 give  to  each  injunction  the  force  and  authority  of  the  other.  But  still,  on 
 the  scientific  view,  duty  would  still  remain  duty  were  religious  sentiment 
 extinguished  to-morrow  and  for  ever.  For  morality  in  its  ultimate  expres- 
 sion means  the  promotion  of  welfare  in  the  social  state  through  the  agency 
 of  the  individuals  living  in  that  state.  Theories  respecting  the  origin  of 
 the  universe,  of  life,  or  of  mankind  do  not  affect  the  actual  conditions  of  the 
 relation  between  a  man  and  his  fellows  in  the  least ;  and  so  morals  remain 
 independent  of  religious  opinion  and  belief.  Morality  consists  in  aid 
 actually  rendered  to,  or  evil  hindered  for  the  whole  race,  through  the  con- 
 duct of  individuals,  but  without  regard  to  persons. 
 
7i!o  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 XII.  Theologians  have  represented  conscience  as  the  voice  of  God 
 speaking  super-reasonably  in  the  heart  of  man.  The  inward  monitor  so 
 regarded  has,  however,  too  often  refused  to  be  educated,  and  crude  old 
 canons  of  duty  have  been  blindly  clung  to  as  piously  admissible  and 
 sociallv  sufficient  long  after  social  advance  has  shown  them  to  be  no  longer 
 fit,  fair,  or  edifying.  Conscience  gains  more  than  it  loses  of  permanent 
 authoritativeness  when  regarded  as  the  Supreme  voice  speaking  reasonably 
 for  man,  through  men,  and  so  as  maintaining  a  constantly  rising  standard, 
 adapted  to  the  increasingly  complex  needs  of  a  progressive  race. 
 
 To  adapt  conduct  to  the  normal  claims  and  ultimate  advantage  of 
 human  beings  all  round,  and  on  terms  equitable  to  self,  neighbour, 
 contemporary,  and  posterity,  is,  in  short,  tlie  problem  which  conscience 
 •' truly  so  called  "  has  at  every  moral  juncture  to  solve.  Whether  indi- 
 vidual indulgence  be,  socially  regarded,  right  or  wrong,  fair  or  unfair  ; 
 whether  mdividual  sacrifice  be,  socially  regarded,  right  or  wrong,  fair  or 
 unfair;  this  is  ever  the  characteristic  gist  of  every  question  which  the  true 
 evolutionist  puts  to  his  inner  man,  whenever  "  Dame  Nature"  and  social 
 integrity  seem  to  pull  contrary  ways.  Where  society  and  individual  are 
 both  in  a  healthy  (that  is,  in  a  normally-developing  and  actively  self-adjust- 
 ing condition),  these  never  do,  in  reality,  pull  in  opposite  directions.  ^Vhere 
 they  actually  and  irreconcilably  conflict,  one  or  the  other  is  in  a  morbid  or 
 a  backward  condition  ;  and  then  the  moral  problem  is  to  discover  which, 
 without  the  slightest  partiality  for  either  being  permitted  to  influence 
 the  ultimate  judgment  and  the  voluntary  conduct  flowing  from  it. 
 
 The  discovery  of  the  fact  that  human  society  is  an  organic  entity,  exist- 
 ing and  developing  on  principles  precisely  similar  to  those  evidenced  in 
 the  life  of  single  organisms ;  and  the  further  discovery  that  the  human  con- 
 science in  individuals  is  related  to  the  needs  of  the  community  in  much 
 the  same  way  as  the  sensitiveness  of  the  palate  is  related  to  the  needs  of 
 the  stomach,  or  the  perception  of  beauty  to  the  demands  of  the  eye,  these 
 twin  discoveries  have  come  as  firstfruits  of  the  evolution  theory,  and  indeed 
 not  a  day  too  soon. 
 
 The  distinctive  characteristic  of  evolutionist  ethic  is,  then,  the  insistence 
 on  the  development  of  conscience  and  of  codes.  The  relativity  of  morals 
 is  the  new  point.  The  only  fixed  thing  about  duty  is  its  relation  to  the 
 requirements  of  general  human  life  as  affected  by  the  voluntary  conduct 
 of  individuals.  As  the  vital  needs  of  the  community  change,  so  must  the 
 detailed  demands  of  that  community  on  individual  concessions,  efforts,  and 
 compunctions  also  change.  Always,  however,  the  moral  man  is  the  dutiful 
 citizen, — the  individual  who  does  no  harm  to  and  is  useful  to  his  contem- 
 poraries and  his  posterity. 
 
 The  recognition  of  the  natural  relation  of  righteousness  to  human  re- 
 quirement is  not  new.  It  is  as  old  as  the  days  of  Job.  Said  Elihu  :  '-'M 
 thou  sinnest,  what  dost  thou  unto  Him  ?  (God).  If  thou  be  righteous,  what 
 givest  thou  Him?   .    .    .    Thy  wickedness  may  hurt  a  man  as  thou  art,  and 
 
THE  EVOLUTION   THEORY.  781 
 
 thy  righteousness  may  profit  the  son  of  man"  (the  race).  The  universe  can 
 indeed  right  itself,  whatever  we  do  or  fail  to  do.  Not  so  our  own  soul,  our 
 fellow-creature,  our  race.  The  evolutionist  teacher  does  not  say,  "  Thou 
 shalt  abide  throughout  all  generations  by  this  or  that  temporarily  fit  rule 
 of  action  "  ;  l)ut,  "  Thou  shalt,  even  in  thy  breach  or  dismissal  of  the 
 killing  'letter'  of  ancient  or  no  longer  fitted  laws,  honour  and  abide  by  the 
 life-giving  (Hfeward)  '  spirit '  of  all  law."  And  the  spirit  of  all  lifeward  law 
 is  this  :  Tliou  shalt  not  do  harm  ;  thou  shalt  not  injure  or  destroy,  oppress 
 or  restrict,  defraud  or  betray  thy  race  ;  thou  shalt  always  and  at  every 
 juncture  do  fairly  by  thyself,  thy  neighbour,  thy  posterity,  or  anything  else 
 which  in  its  nature  does  not  injure  these  ;  i.e.,  anything  else  which  is  not 
 competing  for  dear  life  with  these.  Justice  to  harmless  brutes  is  included 
 in  the  ultimate  code. 
 
 XIII.  The  evolutionist  has  not  any  strong  hope  to  off"er  to  the  still 
 numerous  individuals  who  claim,  each  for  himself,  an  indefinitely  or  end- 
 lessly prolonged  conscious  existence.  This  is  a  claim  based,  however  little 
 the  claimant  recognises  its  origin,  on  the  present  drawbacks  and  assumed 
 unalterableness  of  terrestrial  conditions.  These  drawbacks  the  evolutionist 
 believes  to  be  largely  removable  where  they  lie  in  the  disposition  of  exter- 
 nal things,  and  to  be  completely  removable  so  far  as  they  lie  in  the  dis- 
 position of  human  nature.  And  he  believes  that  as  fast  as  the  belief  in 
 a  continued  personal  consciousness  comes  to  be  considered  actually  erro- 
 neous, and  so  fast  as  the  cases  of  premature  and  painful  dissolution  of  human 
 lives  are  so  reduced  as  to  become  exceptional,  so  fast  will  the  very  desire 
 die  out,  in  harmony  with  the  law  of  disused  function,  which  ultimately 
 brings  about  the  lapse  of  inappropriate  instinct  through  atrophy  of  its  con- 
 comitant nervous  structure.  In  very  many  highly  sensitive  and  highly 
 moral  natures  the  claim  to  and  the  desire  for  personal  immortality  is  already 
 totally  extinct.  Death  has  already  lost  its  sting,  and  the  grave  its  victory, 
 in  face  of  that  view  of  the  whole  which  imparts  the  sense  of  eternity  to 
 each  moment  as  it  passes,  which  floods  with  satisfying  meaning  every 
 incident,  and  provides  a  mental  consolation  for  and  throughout  any  and 
 every  possible  form  or  degree  of  personal  agony,  failure,  or  forsakenness, 
 at  any  rate  so  long  as  such  distress  remains  merely  subjective,  and  so 
 measurable  by  the  limits  of  the  affected  consciousness,  within  which  an 
 evolutionally  fitted  Will  reigns  as  master.     All  this  is  fact. 
 
 The  evil  of  life  is  largely  the  result  of  human  error  and  incomplete 
 sociality.  Pessimism  is  not  encouraged  by  the  natural  history  of  societ)-. 
 On  the  other  hand,  it  is  a  mistake  to  jump  to  the  optimist's  conclusion 
 that  all  things  are  in  train  for  inevitable  improvement,  and  may  therefore 
 be  let  drift,  as  certain  to  come  right  in  the  end.  There  are  twenty  ways 
 of  o-oing  wrong  for  one  way  of  going  right.  Nature,  when  thrown  back, 
 laboriously  recapitulates  old  chapters  in  her  tale  of  development,  and 
 meanwhile  generations  pass  !     There  are  no  short  cuts  to  perfection. 
 
 XIV.  It  is  an  awful  truth  that  the  reign  of  benevolence  only  began  with 
 
782  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 ihe  reign  of  social  man.  In  pre-human  days,  death,  violence  and  whole- 
 sale catastrophe,  accompanied  with  pain,  overwhelmed  whole  races.  And 
 the  struggle  between  such  races  as  survived  catastrophe  was  always  accom- 
 panied by  reckless  cruelty,  and  unsoftened  by  compunction  in  the  victors. 
 As  men,  however,  grow  many  (here,  or  there,  or  anywhere),  they  have  to 
 get  on  together;  and  the  mutual  punishing  and  rewarding,  approving  and 
 despising  of  human  beings  by  one  another  naturally  occurs  in  proportion 
 as  each  individual  acts  conformably  with  or  antagonistically  to  the  interests 
 of  the  rest.  But  this  recompense  from  outside,  from  the  fellow-creatures 
 his  lot  is  bound  up  with,  inevitably  "educates  ";  that  is,  it  sets  up  mental 
 habits  and  characteristic  emotional  response  in  the  individual  who  experi- 
 ences it.  Social  feeling  begins  in  the  crude  form  of  social  fear  and  servility 
 on  part  of  those  who  are  most  at  the  mercy  of  the  rest.  Obedience  is  the 
 earliest  virtue.  Later,  inherited  habit  becomes  second  nature  ;  the  acts 
 which  are  always  approved  and  rewarded  come  to  be  willingly  done. 
 Their  doing  modifies  the  nervous  structure  in  such  way  that  at  last  they 
 tend  to  repeat  themselves  as  the  natural  function  of  that  structure  ;  and 
 so  serviceable  impulses  and  kindly,  honourable,  and  just  conduct  come 
 to  be  the  organic  expressions  of  noble  characters.  This  is  the  evolu- 
 tionist's account  of  the  origin  of  moral  compunction.  Conscience  is  the 
 inward  reflection  of  the  social  permission  and  prohibition  ;  and  sympathy, 
 the  spontaneous  individual  response  to  so  much  of  the  social  needs  and 
 rights  as  lie  within  the  field  of  the  individual  imagination.  It  is  obvious 
 that  in  a  continuously  developing  community  the  precise  forms  of  con- 
 duct, or  types  of  character  most  useful  to  the  welfare  of  that  community 
 must  vary  from  age  to  age.  Conformably  with  which  fact  the  code  of 
 rules  for  conduct,  and  the  ideals  of  what  constitutes  highest  excellence  in 
 citizens,  have  also  constantly  varied,  and  in  advancing  communities  have 
 developed  and  grown  constantly  more  discriminate.  True,  the  average 
 conscience  comes  up  but  slowly  to  any  "improved"  standard  ;  that  is,  a 
 standard  demanding  and  recognising  such  fresh  and  finer  forms  of  moral 
 sensibility  as  shall  be  adjusted  to  tiie  requirements  of  more  delicately  poised 
 social  conditions.  Melioration  in  the  department  of  morals  takes  place 
 always  and  solely  in  the  direction  oi  finer  and  fairer  discrimination,  based 
 on  a  higher  degree  of  particular  sympathy,  and  a  higher  conception  of 
 ideal  welfare,  always  in  harmony  with  the  dictates  of  such  sympathy.  The 
 man  who  is  wretched  till  he  sees  an  injustice  redressed  is  more  likely,  if 
 left  untrammelled,  to  leave  no  stone  unturned  till  at  any  less  cost  to  him- 
 self it  be  redressed,  than  is  a  man  whose  individual  sense  of  justice  and 
 whose  sympathy  is  so  little  developed  that  he  needs  the  dread  of  the 
 "law,"  the  support  of  a  creed,  or  the  spur  of  an  example,  before  the  evil 
 itself  can  move  him  to  effort  or  sacrifice.  Character  is  the  main  thing. 
 Character  must  be  exercised,  and  initiative  encouraged,  in  order  to  grow 
 and  to  effect  appropriately  ;  and  it  is  desirable  to  set  free  from  all  kinds  of 
 restraint  as  muc'i  initiative  as  exists  in  socialized  individuals,  both  for  sake 
 
THE  EVOLUTION  THEORY.  7 S3 
 
 of  making  these  individuals  happy  and  free,  and  for  giving  the  community 
 
 the  benefit  of  their  example,  influence,  and  works. 
 
 ****** 
 
 In  religion,  the  true  evolutionist  is  agnostic  rather  than  dogmatic,  re- 
 pudiating alike  the  dogmatism  of  the  theist  and  the  dogmatism  of  the 
 atheist. 
 
 In  philosojjhy,  he  is  neither  materialistic  nor  spiritualistic,  but  recognises 
 the  possibility  of  giving  a  consistent  account  of  the  known  universe  in  the 
 chosen  terms  of  either  school. 
 
 In  ethic,  he  is  neither  pessimistic  nor  optimistic,  but  tnelioristic ;  that 
 is,  he  finds  himself  by  no  means  in  "  the  best  of  all  possible  worlds,"  and 
 yet  also  by  no  means  in  a  world  where  evil  is  inveterate  and  incurable  : 
 rather,  in  a  world  where  all  is  in  flux,  where  forces  are  plastic  and  effort 
 remunerative,  and  which  correct  knowledge,  steadfast  will,  and  sympathy 
 enable  humans  indefinitely  to  improve. 
 
 In  politics,  the  evolutionist  is  neither  conservative  nor  revolutionary. 
 At  the  present  critical  juncture  of  affairs  all  over  the  civilized  world,  when 
 the  pressing  point  of  the  struggle  between  two  claimants  for  "survival  "  in 
 right  of  "fitness"  lies,  politically,  at  the  point  where  Socialism  and  Indivi- 
 dualism join  issue,  the  whole  weight  of  the  evolution  theory  falls  naturally 
 into  the  individualist  scale. 
 
 That  ideal  society  towards  which  general  progress  actually  tends,  and 
 actually  has  ever  been  tending,  is  a  society  composed  of  autonomous 
 individuals,  each  possessing,  by  virtue  of  a  highly  socialized  character,  a 
 socially  conceded  "  right "  to  freedom  ;  each  spontaneously,  voluntarily, 
 gladly,  and  yet  incidentally  promoting  the  welfare  of  the  community  as 
 part  and  parcel  of  his  own  idea  of  his  otvn  welfare.  This  is  a  consum- 
 mation already  attained  in  the  cases  of  single  individuals,  attained  even 
 long  ago  wherever  society,  by  hook  or  crook,  had,  apart  from  scientific 
 theory,  "happened  upon "  that  sufficient  degree  of  development  which 
 yields  as  its  fruits  such  type  of  character.  The  type  is  more  frequent, 
 less  out  of  the  common,  in  our  present  society  than  it  ever  was  before  ; 
 and  the  evolutionist  pleads  for  its  right  to  survival.  It  is  a  type  of  character 
 as  concerning  which  the  "  kingdom  of  heaven  "  lies  "  within."  But  it  is 
 a  type  only  to  be  met  with  where  individual  character  \\sls  reached  a  high 
 degree  of  development.  And  the  process  of  this  development  is  carried 
 on  most  quickly  and  most  efficiently  where  as  much  scope  as  possible  is 
 afforded  to  individual  activity.  The  reason  it  is  more  common  now  than 
 it  was  in  the  days  of  Jesus  is  because  institutions  are  freer,  and  allow  more 
 initiative  to  individuals.  The  reason  why  it  is  commoner  among  Anglo- 
 Saxons  than  among,  say,  Russians  or  Chinamen,  is  again  because  there 
 is  less  pressure  exerted  on  the  individual  consciousness  and  conscience 
 by  the  regulations  of  authority,  acting  indiscriminately  and  autocratically. 
 Any  form  of  government  (even  that  called  "  collective  ")  acts  autocratically^ 
 and  in  its  own  name,  as  Government.     Wherever  and  so  long  as  there 
 
784  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 is  a  dearth  of  individuals  able  to  effect  the  final  aims  of  just  government 
 quicker  and  more  surely  without  than  with  publicly  an<l  externally  imposed 
 reward  and  penalty,  government  was  and  is  still  "  fit."  But  the  European 
 evolutionist  of  to-day  perceives  that  this  dearth  is  constantly  diminishing, 
 and  pleads  for  the  entire  liberation  of  as  much  humaneness  and  of  as  much 
 instinctive  tendency  to  go  right  and  to  maifiiaiti  its  oivn  without  goveni- 
 viental  help,  and  on  neiv  and  individual  methods,  as  exists.  We  have  learnt 
 pretty  well  how  to  act  in  order  to  "  live  "  ;  it  remains  now  to  learn  how  to 
 "let  live."  Character  is  the  first  social  desideratum  for  the  evolutionary 
 moralist,  and  experience  is  the  first  condition  of  character-development. 
 Due  experience  gained  while  in  exercise  of  unopposed  volition,  while 
 leading  to  no  animosities,  goes  more  home  to  the  individual  conscience, 
 and  is  more  likely  to  be  further  impressed  and  handed  on  through  the 
 agent's  subsequent  influence,  than  a  hundred  forced  lessons. 
 
 To  recapitulate.  Evolution  is,  then,  the  law  of  lifewardness  ;  i.e.,  the  law 
 of  that  process  by  which  worlds  are  fitted  for  life,  and  by  which  again  life 
 is  developed,  ennobled,  and  consummated. 
 
 The  vital  process,  wherever  in  progress,  shows  itself  as  adjustment  of  the 
 organism  to  the  conditions  in  which  its  lot  is  cast. 
 
 Since  everything,  within  as  without  the  organism,  is  eternally  in  move- 
 ment, such  adjustment  amounts  to  a  ^''  moving  equilibrium."  Directly  this 
 equilibrium  ceases  to  be  kept  up,  dissolution  sets  in  ;  and  the  organism, 
 as  such,  relapses  into  its  elements.  Everything  therefore  which  is  not 
 keeping  up  with  things  is  deteriorating. 
 
 Each  organized  thing  has  its  appro[)riate  "raw  material."  Mere  matter- 
 in-motion  is  tlie  raw  material  of  the  solar  system.  Protoplasm  is  the  raw 
 material  of  living  organisms.  The  raw  material  of  human  character  is  a 
 chaos  of  unregulated  brute  sensibilities  and  propensities.  The  raw  material 
 of  society  is  a  loose  aggregate  of  barbarians,  whose  interests  are  not  yet 
 iTiutually  interdependent,  and  whose  action  is  as  yet  uncombined.  One 
 mode  of  procedure  organizes  and  vitalizes  each  of  these. 
 
 The  acceptation  or  rejection  of  the  moral  aspect  of  the  evolution  theory 
 depends  upon  how  much  readiness  there  is  in  the  mind  of  the  morally 
 disposed  student  to  accept  the  actual  constitution  of  things  as  a  sufficient 
 manifestation  of  that  supreme  Energy  or  Tendency  upon  which  order, 
 life,  mind,  and  Will  depend;  and  to  see  in  the  most  ordinary  and  fortuitous 
 facts  of  cosmical  occurrence  some  hint  or  other  concerning  "  the  way,  the 
 truth,  and  ti)e  life."  Any  one  who  thinks  that  God  and  Nature  are  twain, 
 and  are  at  enmity,  must  of  course  choose  between  them.  He  is  in  the 
 position  of  a  child  whose  parents  arc  in  disagreement,  and  who  has  to 
 decide  between  father  and  mother,  with  the  certain  prospect  of  disobeying 
 and  being  i>unished  by  one  or  the  other.  Any  one  who  reganls  himself 
 as  the  child  of  a  "  fatherly  C]od,"  all-knowing  and  benevolent,  and  also  as 
 the  child  of  a  "  Dame  Nature,"  all  blind  and  stujjid  or  desperately  wicked, 
 is  of  course  in  no  position  to  welcome  a  doctrine  which  refers  to  natural 
 
THE  EVOLUnOX  THEORY.  7^5 
 
 historj'  for  all  its  guidance.  Meanwhile  the  evoUitionisl  has  reached  a 
 conception  of  things  in  which  all  appears  consistent.  For  him  the  whole 
 course  of  nature  is  one\  and  out  of  this  natural  course,  aivi  in  spite  d  the 
 stern  and  saddening  facts  witnessed  to  as  incidental  to  that  course,  he  be- 
 lieves that  the  ideas  of  "God,"  of  ''goodness,"  of  "duty," and  "^coi>science," 
 have  normally  arisen.  Each  beautiful  thing,  no  less  tlvin  eadi  blundering 
 thing,  has  arrived  naturally,  and  amounts,  so  far  as.  it  goeS^  to  a  warrant 
 each  time  it  arrives  of  a  path  rightly  grooved  and  ;^  mc»n">entum  rightly 
 directed. 
 
 The  only  way  we  can  aid  the  cosmical  endeavour  is  through  the 
 amelioration  of  human  lot  in  our  fellows  and  ourselves  :  ourselves  with 
 and  through  and  in  our  fellows.  For  on  our  planet  human  history  repre- 
 sents the  vanguard  of  the  eternal  forces.  \\*e  Ixive  to  make  our  race  the 
 channel  of  "  least  resistance  "  through  which  the  forward  impulse  can,  with 
 least  hindrance  and  least  liability  to  miscarrivige,  work,  formatively  and 
 splendidly,  toward  that  consummation  which  means  the  ful'.ist  digree  of 
 life,  awareness,  beauty,  and  will,  with  the  imst  dcp-ee  of  pain,  distress, 
 and  drawback  of  any  kind. 
 
 But — the  amelioration  of  human  lot.  whether  '•  morally  "  (that  is,  for 
 human  creatures'  own  piteous  sakes^  or  "religiously"  (that  is,  for  sake 
 of  awed  and  enthusiastic  participation  in  the  supreme  cosmical  Enort, 
 sympathy  with  which  constitutes  the  youngest  and  highest  form  of 
 spiritual  life),  whether  in  the  moral  cr  religious  count — amelior.ition  of 
 human  lot  can  culy  be  accomplished  through  amelioration  of  human 
 character.  As  Herbert  Spencer  says,  it  is  impossible  to  get  ''golden 
 conduct "  out  of  *'  leaden  instincts."  Golden  instincts  \\\  human  breasts 
 would  make  of  our  planet  a  new  earth  in  which  dwelleth  rigiiteousness. 
 Golden  instincts  depend,  however,  on  character  ;  and  the  amelioration 
 of  human  character,  though  it  has  ever  been  going  on.  is  a  very  slow 
 process.  There  is  no  jumping  to  perfection.  All  reward  comes  to  the 
 accurate  observer  and  courageous  follower  of  eternal  natunil  law;  but 
 as  Tesus  sadlv  s;iid,  "Strait  is  the  ^ate  and  narrow  the  wav  that  lea  leth 
 unto  lite,"  and  (in  proportion  to  those  who  miss  it)  those  who  tiad  and 
 follow  it  are  still  the  very  "  few.'" 
 
 Meanwhile  there  remains  the  fact  that  there  is  a  right  and  lifeward  wiy  ; 
 that  it  is  findable,  and  that  to  pursue  it  is  to  reach,  or  to  help  reach,  that 
 which  when  reached  is  felt  to  be  the  consummate  goal.  The  unhesitating 
 onwardness  of  the  natural  casual  process,  the  permanence  of  relations, 
 the  constant  nuilti plication  of  ertects.  and  the  necessity  of  clearing  the  xvay 
 for  the  developing  whole,  if  one  would  not  be  crushed  by  it,  remain  serious 
 facts.  But  it  is  at  every  instant  and  every  juncture  of  events  possible  sa 
 to  act  as  to  make  things  in  general  better  without  making  things  in  par- 
 ticular worse,  and  to  make  things  in  particular  better  without  making  things 
 in  general  worse.  This  is  tndicrism.  And  meliorism  is  the  moral  principle 
 which  naturally  and  logically  ensues  on  full  comprehension  and  apprecia- 
 
 VOt-.   I. — pt.   2.  3  F 
 
786  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 lion  -of  the  doctrine  I  have  in  this  article  tried  to  set  forth.  The  social 
 sentiency  known  as  conscience  once  actually  established  comes  to  put 
 in  its  own  claim  for  survival  as  a  source  of  pleasure  to  the  fit  social 
 being,  and  hence  is  clung  to  for  its  own  sake.  It  then  becomes  (like  all 
 other  habit,  whether  physical,  nervous,  or  manual)  structural  and  organic  ; 
 it  becomes  "  character "  in  the  final  sense — that  is,  natural  and  spon- 
 taneous; it  becomes  instinctive  ;  it  becomes  imperative  ;  and  pain  attends 
 its  repression. 
 
 And  mark  this  :  that  solution  of  all  human  problems,  that  bearer  of  all 
 burdens,  that  sight  for  all  blindness — the  Sympathy  which,  pre-eminently 
 in  women,  "  weeps  with  those  who  weep,"  and  which,  pre-eminently  in 
 men,  "  rejoices  with  those  who  rejoice," — this  very  sympathy  is  one  of  the 
 instinctively  exercised  functions  which  the  benign  but  difficult  process  of 
 evolution  has,  through  the  natural  workings  of  this  adamantine  universe, 
 yielded  as  its  supreme  fruit. 
 
 The  "  Genesis  "  book  of  the  evolution  theory  treats  of  the  apparently 
 blind,  lifeward  striving  of  tuatter  in  motion.  Its  book  of  "  Revelation  " 
 points  to  the  Sympathy  which  welds  the  fortunes  of  moral  and  socialized 
 living  beings;  a  Sympathy  of  the  units  with  one  another,  and  of  each 
 unit  with  the  Supreme,  Eternal,  and  Inexhaustible  Totality. 
 
787 
 
 THE    ETHICAL    MOVEMENT    DEFINED. 
 
 By  Dr.  Stanton  Coit. 
 
 The  aims  and  principles  of  the  Ethical  movement  are  so  very  simple  that 
 any  one,  although  with  no  philosophical  education,  may  both  understand 
 and  sit  in  judgment  upon  them.  I  need  not  speak  in  parables,  or  use 
 symbolic  language ;  but  there  is  need  of  explanation.  People  are  so 
 accustomed,  when  religion  is  spoken  of,  to  look  for  mystical  and  transcen- 
 dental ideas,  which  are  remote  from  men's  common  every-day  thoughts, 
 that  when  the  whole  nature  of  the  Ethical  Movement  has  been  explained, 
 they  still  look  for  something  further.  Its  very  simplicity  makes  them  fail 
 to  understand  it,  or,  if  they  understand,  they  fail  to  appreciate  it.  "  Is 
 that  all?"  they  are  apt  to  exclaim.  But  we  count  it  no  defect  in  our 
 Ethical  Movement  that  it  is  thus  simple  and  close  to  the  working  thoughts 
 of  every-day  life.  This  simplicity  is  one  reason  for  the  hope  that  it  will 
 some  day  reorganize  the  spiritual  life  of  civilized  nations.  Let  me  now  set 
 forth  our  main  doctrines. 
 
 The  first  of  these  is,  that  the  bond  of  religious  union  should  be  solely 
 devotion  to  the  good  in  the  world.  By  "  the  good  "  is  meant  simply  a  cer- 
 tain quality  of  human  character  and  conduct :  the  quality  which  we  have 
 in  mind  when  we  say  that  a  judge  is  good  because  he  is  impartial ;  that  a 
 father  is  good  because  he  looks  out  for  the  lasting  welfare  of  his  children  ; 
 that  a  brother  is  good,  because  he  causes  his  sister  no  pain  if  he  can  help 
 it ;  that  a  citizen  is  good  because  he  is  willing  to  sacrifice  personal  gain  to 
 the  prosperity  of  the  whole  people.  The  desire  to  spread  more  and  more 
 this  quality  of  conduct  and  character,  and  to  root  out  badness  from  human 
 life  is,  we  affirm,  the  true  bond  of  religious  union  among  men.  Nothing 
 could  be  clearer  and  more  definite  than  this  doctrine  ;  we  aim  to  preach  it 
 everywhere.  We  believe  that  by  declaring  devotion  to  the  good  in  the 
 world  to  be  the  bond,  and  the  whole  bond,  of  religious  union  we  shall 
 ultimately  induce  men  to  remove  all  other  qualifications  for  membership 
 in  churches  ;  and  that,  immediately,  men  who  are  now  outside  of  all  re- 
 ligious fellowship,  or  who  chafe  under  the  dogmatic  restraint  of  the  Church, 
 will  form  themselves  into  societies  for  the  spread  of  goodness,  and  that 
 such  fellowships  will  be  the  means  of  thorough  and  permanent  social  re- 
 forms in  politics,  in  education,  and  in  family  and  industrial  life.  This  idea 
 of  forming  societies  in  devotion  to  good  character  and  right  conduct  we 
 believe  stands  equal  in  dignity  and  power  with  Christ's  conception  of  a 
 kingdom  of  God  on  earth,  and  that  it  comes  to-day  with  all  the  freshness 
 
788  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OE  THE    WORLD. 
 
 and  vigour  of  a  new  social  revelation,  for  which,  however,   the  ages  of 
 Christian  development  liave  been   preparing  men's  hearts  and  intellects. 
 Not  only  is  the  idea  clear  and  definite  in  itself,  but  when  embodied  in  a 
 society  we  have  a  social  institution  distinct  from  every  other  now  existing. 
 An  Ethical  Society,   a  fellowship  solely  in  devotion   to  the  good  in  the 
 world,  is  wholly  distinct  from  every  Christian  Church,  whether  Orthodox 
 or  Unitarian  ;  for  the  Church,  besides  devotion  to  the  spread  of  goodness 
 in  the  world,  demands  allegiance  to  a  personal  Creator  of  the  TJniverse. 
 An  Ethical  Society,  therefore,  differs  from  every  Christian  Church  in  that 
 its  basis  in  the  first  place  is  clearer  and  simpler,  is  capable  of  being  under- 
 stood by  the  most  ignorant  man  of  ordinary  intelligence,  because  all  men 
 know  at  least  sufficiently  well  for  practical  judgment  what  goodness  in 
 human  character  is.     But  the  idea  of  a  personal  Creator  of  the  Universe 
 has  baffled  the  speculative  efforts  of  the  best  disciplined  and  philosophic 
 minds.     In  simplicity,  therefore,  an  Ethical  Society  may  claim  precedence 
 over  any  Christian  Church,  and  from  this  it  follows  that  an  Ethical  Society 
 is  in  its  very  nature  more  suited  to  men  of  average  intelligence  and  of  busy 
 life.     But  it  also  differs  from  Christian  Churches  in  being  broader  in  its 
 fellowship.     It  excludes  no  one  because  of  scepticism  as  to  the  existence 
 and  personality  of  God  or  the  divinity  of  Christ.     But,  on  the  other  hand, 
 let  it  be  distinctly  known  that  we  are  not,  as  a  society.  Agnostic.     AVe  do 
 not  deny  the  possibility  of  knowing  the  existence  of  God.     We  do  not  re- 
 quest or  exact  that  a  man  shall  first  give  up  his  belief  in  a  personal  God 
 and  immortality  before  he  shall  become  a  member  of  our  societies.     We 
 simi)ly  ask  that  he  have  a  direct  desire  to  plant  good  conduct  and  root  out 
 evil.     As  a  society  we  are  not  pledged  to  any  theory  as  to  the  origin  of 
 the  universe,  or  of  conscience  itself,  nor  to  any  theory  as  to  the  limits  of 
 human  knowledge.     We  are  not  an  Agnostic  Society  ;  we  have  no  theory 
 at  all,   as   a  society,   concerning  the  limits  of  knowledge,   therefore  the 
 charge  which  has  been  made  against  us  that  we  are  Agnostic  is  due  to  a 
 misunderstanding. 
 
 When,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  brought  as  an  objection  against  us  that 
 we  have  no  theory  which  accounts  for  the  moral  enthusiasm  which  we 
 possess  and  manifest,  we  point  out  the  following  distinction  :  as  a  society 
 we  have  no  such  theory,  but  each  individual  member  may  entertain  what- 
 ever theory  addresses  itself  to  his  reason  as  true.  One  may  be  a  Theist, 
 another  a  Materialist,  another  an  Atheist.  We  simply  maintain  that  no 
 one  shall  make  his  theory  a  barrier  between  himself  and  his  fellow-men. 
 And  yet  let  no  one  infer  from  our  emphasis  of  goodness  in  human  conduct 
 that  we  set,  it  up  in  the  place  of  Go  1  as  an  object  to  worship.  We  recog- 
 nise that  goodness  is  purely  an  abstraction  ;  that  unless  it  exist  in  concrete 
 acts  and  dispositions  of  the  human  will  it  has  no  reality  or  value  for  us. 
 We  make  no  fetish  of  it  ;  it  does  not  exist  except  as  we  are  good  ;  we 
 cannot  say,  therefore,  tliat  in  our  view  of  life  and  the  universe  it  takes  the 
 place  which  God  or  Christ  holds  in  the  Christian  view,  except  simply  that 
 
THE  ETHICAL   MOVEMENT  DEFINED.  789 
 
 it  is  the  bond  of  human  fellowship  and  brotherhood.  We  demand  that  no 
 one  shall  make  the  ideas  of  God  and  immortality  the  bond  of  religious 
 union,  that  no  one  shall  place  any  moral  blame  or  stigma  upon  any  other 
 man  for  not  holding  them. 
 
 But  although  thus  different  from  all  Christian  Churches,  it  does  not  fol- 
 low that  we  approach  any  nearer  to  non-Christian  religious  fellowships, 
 which  have  recently  s[)rung  up,  than  we  do  to  the  Christian  Churches.  We 
 are  quite  as  distinct  from  Positivism,  Secularism,  and  Socialism. 
 
 The  Positivists  set  up  the  worship  of  Humanity,  adoration  of  the  great 
 and  good  men  of  the  past  regarded  as  constituting  an  organic  being,  as 
 the  bond  of  religious  fellowship.  We  do  not  condemn  in  itself  the  adora- 
 tion of  Humanity  s»  long  as  it  be  not  made  the  bond  of  fellowship  ;  but 
 when  set  up  as  the  foundation  of  a  new  Church  we  count  it  as  unjust  and 
 unwise.  It  is  unjust  to  every  man  who  cannot  naturally  cast  his  motives 
 for  doing  good  chiefly  into  a  sense  of  gratitude  for  the  good  which  he  has 
 received  from  humanity.  Many  a  man  has  a  feeling  that  although  he  had 
 derived  no  good  and  perfect  gifts  from  humanity,  still  that  he  should  and 
 would  serve  his  fellow-men  ;  in  short,  the  love  of  mankind  is  in  many  a 
 heart  deeper  than  the  conscious  debt  of  gratitude.  We  are,  furthermore, 
 distinguished  from  Positivists  in  not  exacting  special  recognition  of  Auguste 
 Comte  and  his  services.  Nor  do  we,  like  the  Positivists,  recognise  for  a 
 moment  that  the  basis  of  religious  fellowship  is  the  sum  total  of  all  the 
 [)Ositive  sciences  constituting  the  philosophic  doctrine  of  the  universe.  We 
 believe  that  science  becomes  an  unjust  dogma  the  moment  it  is  made  the 
 basis  of  a  Church.  The  worship  of  Humanity  and  the  doctrines  of  posi- 
 tive sciences  are  the  Positivist  bond,  while  ours  is  simply  the  furtherance 
 of  good  character  and  right  conduct. 
 
 Equally  distinct  are  we  also  from  the  Secularists.  The  Secularists,  as 
 their  very  name  implies,  are  reactionists  against  theology ;  whereas  we  de- 
 demand  simply  that  theology  be  not  made  the  condition  of  spiritual  fellow- 
 ship. Moreover,  the  Secularists,  while  affirming  the  dignity  and  worth  of 
 this  world,  and  attempting  to  reconstruct  society,  do  not  lay  down  good 
 character  and  right  conduct  as  the  starting-point  of  all  social  reform  ;  in 
 this  we  are  more  definite  than  they  ;  they  are  in  danger  of  incoherence — 
 now  setting  up  political  power  and  now  industrial  revolution  as  the  true 
 means  of  making  society  happy  and  just;  whereas  we  would  start  from  the 
 moral  sentiment  and  recognise  that  mechanical  changes  in  institutions  and 
 tlie  execution  of  better  laws  must  be  supported  by  the  moral  consciousness 
 of  the  community.  Environment  and  law  also  affect  character ;  but  the 
 impetus  toward  the  doing  away  with  evil  conditions  of  life  must  arise  in 
 men  who  are  bound  together  for  the  spread  of  goodness  in  the  world. 
 
 We  are  also  distinguished  from  the  Socialists.  I  for  one  never  met  a 
 sincere  Socialist  who  did  not,  like  ourselves,  have  the  good  of  the  world 
 at  heart ;  but,  as  the  Church  condemns  any  one  who  does  not  believe  in 
 a  personal  God  by  excluding  him  from  fellowship,  so  the  Socialists,  by  the 
 
790  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 very  fact  that  they  name  themselves  Socialists,  condemn  all  who  do  not 
 l)elieve  in  the  transference  of  the  ownership  of  land  and  capital  from 
 private  citizens  to  the  State.  Whether  the  Socialistic  policy  is  in  itself  right 
 or  not  is  not  the  question  on  which  we  can  take  issue  with  them.  We 
 simply  say  that  their  doctrine  of  reform  should  not  be  the  basis  of  spiritual 
 fellowship  among  men.  An  Ethical  Society  would  include  both  Socialists 
 and  Individualists,  permitting  each  group  to  work  in  its  own  way  for  the 
 elevation  of  society ;  but  would  not  allow  either  for  the  sake  of  his  especial 
 remedy  to  break  the  bond  of  human  brotherhood  with  those  who  differ 
 from  them.  The  Ethical  Society  Movement  believes  that  it  will  draw  to 
 itself  many  men  and  women  from  all  kinds  of  Christian  Churches  and  from 
 all  non-Christian  fellowships.  It  believes,  further,  that  its  influence  will 
 affect  even  those  who  remain  in  old  fellowships  until  they  will  transform 
 these  into  Ethical  Societies  ;  and  if  devotion  to  the  good  in  the  world  be 
 the  right  bond  of  religious  fellowship,  it  would  be  strange  if  this  movement 
 of  ours  did  not  tend  to  conciliate  all  conflicting  groups  of  earnest  men. 
 Thus  without  swerving  from  the  straight  line  of  our  conviction  we  feel  sure 
 that  we  shall  draw  all  men  into  brotherhood.  We  are  not  a  new  Church, 
 as  Churchmen  themselves  define  a  Church  ;  and  we  do  not  pretend  to  be; 
 we  have  no  desire  to  destroy  the  old  Church,  but  to  vivify  it  until  it  shall 
 throw  off  all  except  the  vital  element  of  fellowship,  devotion  to  the  good 
 in  the  world.  Our  first  and  main  doctrine,  then,  is  this  which  I  have  been 
 stating.  We  would  go  about  everywhere,  but  especially  among  the  poor 
 and  the  down-trodden,  urging  men  into  this  higher  fellowship  which  we 
 believe  will  prove  the  salvation  of  the  world  from  misery  and  from  moral 
 evil. 
 
 Our  second  doctrine  is  that  each  man  must  bestow  the  highest  reve- 
 rence of  his  heart,  the  feeling  of  absolute  sacredness  and  inviolability  upon 
 the  doing  of  every  individual  duty  as  it  presents  itself  to  him.  In  fervour 
 of  devotion,  in  the  sense  of  absolute  and  supreme  worth  and  dignity,  each 
 duty  is  to  be  done  ;  and,  so  far  as  the  feeling  of  inviolability  has  been  an 
 element  in  religion,  we  affirm  that  the  doing  of  duty  is  religion  :  with  us 
 every  attack  upon  iniquity  is  a  religious  crusade.  In  this  respect  we  are 
 like  the  Salvation  Army,  which  goes  forth  to  fight  sin.  Every  individual 
 social  reform  which  we  take  up  becomes  to  us,  in  sacredness  at  least,  a 
 religious  task.  For  us  goodness  must  exist  in  human  hearts  and  institu- 
 tions ;  and  to  bring  it  into  existence  is  the  highest  that  we  know.  We 
 preach  that  right  conduct  is  of  supreme  importance,  more  important  than 
 doctrine,  more  important  than  ritual,  ay,  more  important  than  the  worship 
 of  God  or  Christ  in  the  heart.  We  believe  that  right  conduct  is  the  way 
 and  the  only  way,  of  a  joyful,  peaceful,  inspiring  life.  We  believe  that  it 
 is  the  way  to  attain  a  life  of  perfect  selflessness,  which  has  no  anxiety 
 about  the  future  cither  before  or  after  death,  which  is  willing  to  become 
 annihilated  at  death,  if  such  is  the  lot  in  store  for  us.  Devotion  to  right 
 conduct  is,  we  believe,  the  way,   and   the  only  way  of  freedom  from  the 
 
THE  ETHICAL   MOVEMENT  DEFINED.  791 
 
 haunting  presence  of  our  own  past  transgressions.  Complete  devotion  to 
 the  right  is  the  only  act  of  atonement  by  which  we  can  become  reconciled 
 with  our  past  selves.  Thus  conduct,  because  it  is  the  way  of  life  to  the 
 individual  and  of  gladness  to  society,  is  of  supreme  importance  ;  every 
 other  attempt  at  self-reconciliation  or  to  attain  joy  and  self-confidence 
 is  folly  and  evil.  What  food  is  to  the  hungry  man,  what  water  is  to  the 
 parched  lips,  what  the  sun  in  spring-time  is  to  the  trees  and  flowers,  such 
 is  right  conduct  to  the  inner  spiritual  life  of  man.  We  preach  this  devo- 
 tion to  the  good  not  only  as  the  bond  of  fellowship,  but  as  the  way  of  in- 
 ward peace  and  life. 
 
 Akin  to  this  doctrine  of  the  supreme  importance  of  right  conduct,  is  our 
 affirmation  that  this  human  life  of  ours — even  though  we  have  no  outlook 
 toward  an  immortal  existence — still  contains  adequate  motive,  more  than 
 sufficient  incentive,  to  work  and  to  suffer  for  mankind,  and  to  carry  out 
 the  severest  injunctions  of  duty.  We  maintain  that  the  grandeur  of  the 
 motive  to  be  upright  and  just  is  not  diminished  one  whit  by  omitting  the 
 ideas  of  personal  immortality,  and  of  a  personal  God.  There  are  persons 
 who  affirm  that  if  these  ideas  be  taken  away,  although  morality  would  re- 
 main, nevertheless,  the  motive  to  right  action  would  be  deprived  of  its 
 grandeur;  but  in  saying  this  they  simply  declare  that  for  them  the  grandeur 
 is  gone,  that  in  their  experience  they  find  themselves  lacking  motive.  And 
 as  this  statement  is  based  on  their  personal  experience,  there  is  no  wisdom 
 in  bringing  against  it  logical  arguments.  We  can  only  set  over  against  it 
 the  testimony  of  our  own  moral  experience — which  is,  that  the  motive  for 
 right  conduct  which  remains,  although  we  have  no  thought  of  God  and 
 iuimortality,  is  still  so  sublime — nay,  so  overpowering,  that  there  is  no 
 room  in  human  imagination  to  admit  any  additional  incentive.  If  we  fancy 
 that  there  is,  it  is  because  we  have  not  yet  realized  the  significance  of 
 morality  in  reference  to  our  individual  and  social  life,  however  limited, 
 here  on  earth.  What  we  must  do  is  to  train  our  imagination  until  we  are 
 able  to  comprehend  better  the  beauty  and  social  significance  of  holiness. 
 Our  doctrine  is,  that  the  motive  to  right  conduct,  when  its  significance 
 for  our  earthly  life  is  fully  appreciated,  becomes  practically  infinite  in 
 grandeur,  and  that  any  one  who  affirms  the  contrary  is  false  to  moral  ex- 
 perience. 
 
 When  any  one  asks  us,  "  Why  should  I  do  right  ?  "  as  men  sometimes 
 do  who  think  they  need  the  hope  of  immortality  to  inspire  them  to  duty, 
 we  may  find  it  difficult  to  give  an  answer  that  will  satisfy  them  ;  as  when  a 
 blind  man  asks  us  what  we  mean  by  the  sun  and  the  glory  of  his  beams 
 we  cannot  tell  him  ;  and  yet  it  is  not  because  we  do  not  know  the  sun  and 
 his  light  but  because  the  man  is  blind.  And  when  a  man  deaf  from  his 
 birth  asks  us  what  we  mean  by  music  and  what  feelings  it  stirs  in  us,  we 
 cannot  tell.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  a  defect  of  moral  perception.  The 
 unworthiness,  the  perversion  of  the  moral  nature,  implied  in  the  question, 
 "  Why  should   I  do  right  .'* "  becomes  evident  if  we  make  this  question 
 
79=  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 more  specific  and  ask:  "  Why  should  I  care  for  and  watch  over  my  cliild? 
 Why  should  I  refrain  from  beating  my  wife  ?  Why  should  I  not  murder 
 my  brother?  Why  should  I  not  delight  in  cruelty?"  When  any  one  asks 
 us  such  questions,  it  is  becoming  in  us  to  pity  and,  perhaps,  to  condemn, 
 but  not  to  argue  or  reason.  Men  have  asked  us  :  "  Why  should  a  man 
 suffer  and  sacrifice,  even  his  life,  if  there  be  no  hereafter  for  him?  Why 
 should  Jesus  go  to  the  Cross  if  that  was  to  be  the  end  of  Jesus?"  It  is 
 easy  to  tell  why  Jesus  ^votdd  go  to  the  Cross  :  He  would  because  He 
 loved  His  fellow-men,  and  saw  that  He  could  best  serve  them  by  dying 
 for  them.  And  it  is  also  easy  to  tell  to  a  man  who  loves  his  fellow-men 
 why  Jesus  should  go  to  the  Cross  :  it  is  the  same  reason  for  which  He 
 did  go'.  He  ought  or  should  go  because  it  would  serve  His  fellow-men. 
 If  any  one  asks,  "Why  should  I  love  my  fellow-men?"  we  must  say, 
 "  Stop  !  This  is  blasphemy  against  mankind,  and  we  will  not  tolerate  it 
 without  a  protest  against  such  degrading  scepticism."  Love  for  mankind 
 we  see  and  feel  in  our  own  experience  to  be  inviolable  ;  it  is  final.  Love 
 knows  no  ulterior  motive  beyond  itself,  and  will  permit  no  doubt  as  to  the 
 fact  that  it  is  its  own  justification. 
 
 And  yet  let  no  one  imagine  that  we  are  mere  visionaries  and  weak- 
 minded  idealists  as  to  the  moral  worth  of  man.  Although  we  emphasize 
 and  believe  in  a  direct  appeal  to  the  moral  sentiments  in  man,  neverthe- 
 less we  recognise  that  belief  in  a  personal  God,  and  the  hope  of  immor- 
 tality, have  helped  to  keep  men  up  to  the  line  of  duty  ;  and  if  we  had 
 nothing  to  fall  back  upon  but  the  direct  love  of  righteousness,  we  should 
 count  our  movement  weak  indeed.  But  we  recognise  that  besides  love  for 
 mankind  and  conscience  there  are  many  other  motives  to  which  we  could 
 appeal  as  supports  to  the  moral  life.  These  motives  are  lower ;  but 
 nevertheless  are  necessary,  and  serve  the  cause  of  goodness.  Besides  the 
 inward  moral  sanction  to  right  action,  we  would  set  before  men  the  four 
 other  sanctions  :  first,  we  recognise  that  nine  times  out  of  ten  among  the 
 uneducated  classes  of  society  wrong-doing  is  due  to  ignorance  of  the 
 natural  consequences  of  the  wrong  act  upon  the  bodies  and  minds  and 
 fortunes  of  the  doers.  We  would  aim  to  remove  this  ignorance,  thus 
 bringing  home  to  men's  imagination  the  evils  to  which  they  unwillingly  or 
 thoughtlessly  expose  themselves,  The  natural  consequences,  which  we 
 call  the  natural  sanction  of  conduct,  thus  furnish  us  with  a  powerful  ap- 
 peal to  enlightened  self-interest.  But  to  the  natural  sanction  may  be  added 
 the  legal  sanction  which  attaches  in  society  to  the  coarser  forms  of  wrong- 
 doing ;  and  to  both  these  the  social  sanction,  the  praise  and  blame  of  one's 
 neighbours,  may  come  in  as  a  powerful  supplement.  The  love  of  appro- 
 bation and  the  fear  of  disgrace  may  be  made  a  thousandfold  more  effec- 
 tive than  they  are  to-day.  Besides  this  we  can  develop  sympathy,  and 
 thus  bring  to  our  aid  the  desire  to  avoid  the  pain  of  seeing  others  suffer, 
 and  to  gain  the  pleasure  of  seeing  others  happy. 
 
 But  to  teach  these  aids  to  character  and  conduct  is  only  a  part  of  our 
 
THE  ETHICAL  MOVEMENT  DE PINED.  792, 
 
 undertaking  as  an  Ethical  Movement.  Preaching  is  not  our  chief  means 
 of  furthering  the  spread  of  goodness  throughout  society.  We  shall  also 
 attempt,  so  far  as  lies  in  our  power,  to  change  the'  physical  and  social  en- 
 vironment of  men,  so  that  it  shall  be  more  favourable  to  a  truly  human 
 life.  We  e.xpect  the  members  of  our  society  to  do  more  for  the  com- 
 munity than  the  current  morality  of  the  day  demands.  We  recognise  that 
 work  for  mankind  of  every  wise  sort  is  the  most  eloquent  preaching. 
 There  is  no  way  to  convince  people  that  one  believes  in  brotherhood 
 like  proving  one's-self  a  brother. 
 
794 
 
 THE    GOSPEL   OF    SECULARISM. 
 
 By  G.  ^V.  FooTE. 
 
 The  old  faiths  ruin  and  rend,  and  the  air  is  vocal  with  the  clamour  of  new 
 systems,  each  protesting  itself  tlie  Religion  of  the  Future.  Sweet  senti- 
 mental Deism  claims  first  attention,  because  it  retains  what  is  thought  to 
 he  the  essence  of  old  beliefs  after  discarding  their  reality.  Next  comes 
 Positivism,  far  nobler  and  more  vital,  which  manages  to  make  itself  well 
 heard,  having  a  few  strong  and  skilful  pleaders,  who  never  lose  sight  of 
 their  creed  whatever  subject  they  happen  to  be  treating.  But  Secularism, 
 which,  in  England  at  least,  is  numerically  far  more  important  than  Positiv- 
 ism,  although  gladly  heard  by  thousands  of  common  people,  is  scarcely 
 known  at  all  in  circles  of  highest  education  where  its  principles  are  most 
 powerfully  operant. 
 
 Yet  the  word  secular  \s  entering  more  and  more  into  our  general  vocabu- 
 lary, and  in  especial  has  become  associated  with  that  view  of  national 
 education  which  denies  the  propriety  of  religious  teaching  in  Board 
 Schools.  This  use  of  the  word  points  to  the  principle  on  which  Secular- 
 ism is  based.  The  interests  of  this  world  and  life  are  secular,  and  can  be 
 estimated  and  furthered  by  our  unaided  intellects  ;  the  interests  of  another 
 life  and  world  can  be  dealt  with  only  by  appealing  to  Revelation.  Secu- 
 larism proposes  to  cultivate  the  splendid  provinces  of  Time,  leaving  the 
 theologians  to  care  for  the  realms  of  Eternity,  and  meaning  to  interfere 
 with  them  only  while  their  pursuit  of  salvation  in  another  life  hinders  the 
 attainment  of  real  welfare  in  this. 
 
 Mr.  Gladstone's  conception  of  Secularism,  derived  of  course  from  its 
 literature,  may  here  be  cited.  After  describing  the  Sceptic,  the  Atheist, 
 and  the  .Agnostic  he  proceeds  :  — 
 
 "Then  comes  the  Secularist.  Him  I  understand  to  stop  short  of  the 
 three  former  schools  in  that  he  does  not  of  necessity  assert  anything  but 
 the  positive  and  exclusive  claims  of  the  purposes,  the  enjoyments,  and  the 
 needs  presented  to  us  in  the  world  of  sight  and  ex]ierience.  He  docs  not 
 ref]uire  in  principle  even  the  universal  suspense  of  Scepticism  ;  but,  put- 
 ting the  two  worlds  into  two  scales  of  value,  he  finds  that  the  one  weighs 
 much,  the  other  either  nothing  or  nothing  that  can  be  appreciated.  At 
 the  utmost  he  is  like  a  chemist,  who,  in  a  testing  analysis,  after  putting 
 into  percentage  all  that  he  can  measure,  if  he  finds  something  behind  so 
 minute  as  to  refuse  any  quantitative  estimate,  calls  it  by  the  name  of 
 trace.'  "  i 
 
 '    Coitteinporary  R<vic-i',  June,  1S76. 
 
THE   GOSPEL   OF  SECULARISM.  7^5 
 
 This  account  of  Secularism  is  on  the  whole  very  fair,  but  evidently  it 
 requires  much  amplification  before  it  can  be  perfectly  understood  by  those 
 who  have  not,  like  Mr.  Gladstone,  read  secular  literature  for  themselves. 
 
 Were  I  obliged  to  give  an  approximate  definition  of  Secularism  in  one 
 sentence,  I  should  say  that  it  is  naturalism  in  morals  as  distinguished 
 from  suj)ernaturalism  ;  meaning  by  this  that  the  criterion  of  morality  is 
 derivable  from  reason  and  experience,  and  that  its  ground  and  guarantee 
 exist  in  human  nature  independently  of  any  theological  belief.  Mr.  G.  J. 
 Holyoake,  whose  name  is  inseparably  associated  with  Secularism,  says  : 
 "  Secularism  relates  to  the  present  existence  of  man  and  to  actions  the 
 issue  of  which  can  be  tested  by  the  experience  of  life."  And  again  : 
 "  Secularism  means  the  moral  duty  of  man  deduced  from  considerations 
 which  pertain  to  this  life  alone.  Secularism  purposes  to  regulate  human 
 affairs  by  considerations  purely  human."  The  second  of  these  quotations 
 is  clearly  more  comprehensive  than  the  first,  and  is  certainly  a  better  ex- 
 pression of  the  view  entertained  by  the  vast  majority  of  Secularists.  It 
 dismisses  theology  from  all  control  over  the  practical  affairs  of  this  life, 
 and  banishes  it  to  the  region  of  speculation.  The  commonest  intelligence 
 may  see  that  this  doctrine,  however  innocent  it  looks  on  paper,  is  in 
 essence  and  practice  revolutionary.  It  makes  a  clean  sweep  of  all  that 
 theologians  regard  as  most  significant  and  precious.  Dr.  Newman,  in  his 
 Gramma?-  of  Assent,  writes  :  "  By  Religion  I  mean  the  knowledge  of  God, 
 of  His  will,  of  our  duties  towards  Him";  and  he  adds  that  the  channels 
 which  nature  furnishes  for  our  acquiring  this  knowledge  "teach  us  the 
 Being  and  Attributes  of  God,  our  responsibility  to  Him,  our  dependence 
 upon  Him,  our  prospect  of  reward  or  punishment,  to  be  somehow  brought 
 about,  according  as  we  obey  or  disobey  Him."  A  better  definition  of 
 what  is  generally  deemed  religion  could  not  be  found,  and  such  religion 
 as  this  Secularism  will  have  no  concern  with.  From  their  point  of  view 
 orthodox  teachers  are  justified  in  calling  it  irreligious  ;  but  those  Secular- 
 ists who  agree  with  Carlyle  that  whoever  believes  in  the  infinite  nature  of 
 Duty  has  a  religion,  repudiate  the  epithet  irreligious  just  as  they  repudiate 
 the  epithet  infidel,  for  the  popular  connotation  of  both  includes  something 
 utterly  inapplicable  to  Secularism  as  they  understand  it.  Properly  speak- 
 ing, they  assert,  Secularism  is  not  irreligious,  but  untheological ;  yet,  as 
 it  entirely  excludes  from  the  sphere  of  human  duty  what  most  people 
 regard  as  religion,  it  must  explain  and  justify  itself. 
 
 Secularism  rejects  theology  as  a  guide  and  authority  in  the  affairs  of  this 
 life,  because  its  pretensions  are  not  warranted  by  its  evidence.  Natural 
 Theology,  to  use  a  common  but  half  paradoxical  phrase,  never  has  been 
 nor  can  be  aught  but  a  body  of  speculation,  admirable  enough  in  its  way, 
 perhaps,  but  quite  irreducible  to  the  level  of  experience.  Indeed,  one's 
 strongest  impression  in  reading  treatises  on  that  branch  of  metaphysics  is, 
 that  they  are  not  so  much  proofs  as  excuses  of  faith,  and  would  never 
 have  been  written  if  the  ideas  sought  to  be  verified  had  not  already  been 
 
796  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS  OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 enounced  in  Revelation.  As  for  Revealed  Religion,  it  is  based  upon 
 miracles,  and  th-se  to  the  scientific  mind  are  altogether  inadmissible, 
 being  trebly  discredited.  In  the  first  place,  they  are  at  variance  with  the 
 general  fact  of  order  in  nature,  the  largest  vessel  or  conception  into  which 
 all  our  experiences  flow  ;  adverse  to  the  law  of  Universal  Causation  which 
 underlies  all  scientific  theories,  and  guides  all  scientific  research.  Next, 
 the  natural  liistory  of  miracles  shows  us  how  they  arise,  and  makes  us 
 view  them  as  phenomena  of  superstition,  manifesting  a  certain  coherence 
 and  order  because  the  human  imagination  which  gave  birth  to  them  is 
 subject  to  laws,  however  bafiling  and  subtle.  All  miracles  had  their 
 origin  from  one  and  the  same  natural  source.  The  belief  in  their  occur- 
 rence invariably  characterizes  certain  stages  of  mental  development,  and 
 gradually  fades  away  as  these  are  left  farther  and  farther  behind.  They 
 are  not  historical  but  psychological  phenomena,  not  actual  but  merely  men- 
 tal, not  proofs  but  results  of  faith.  The  miracles  of  Christianity  are  no 
 exception  to  this  rule  ;  they  stand  in  the  same  category  as  all  others.  As 
 Mr.  Arnold  aptly  observes  :  "  The  time  has  come  when  the  minds  of  men 
 no  longer  put  as  a  matter  of  course  the  Bible  miracles  in  a'  class  by 
 themselves.  Now,  from  the  moment  this  time  commences,  from  the 
 moment  that  the  comparative  history  of  all  miracles  is  a  conception  enter- 
 tained, and  a  study  admitted,  the  conclusion  is  certain,  the  reign  of  the 
 Bible  miracles  is  doomed."  Lastly,  miracles  are  discredited  for  the  reason 
 insisted  on  by  Mr.  Greg,  namely,  that  if  we  admit  them,  they  prove  no- 
 thing but  the  fact  of  their  occurrence.  If  God  is  our  Author,  He  has 
 endowed  us  with  reason,  and  to  the  bar  of  that  reason  the  utterances  of 
 the  most  astounding  miracle-workers  must  ultimately  come;  if  condemned 
 there,  the  miracl-es  will  afford  them  no  aid  ;  if  approved  there,  the  miracles 
 will  be  to  them  useless. 
 
 Miracles,  then,  are  fiitally  discredited  in  every  way.  Yet  upon  them  all 
 Revelations  are  founded,  and  even  Christianity,  as  Dr.  Newman  urged 
 against  the  orators  of  the  Tamworth  Reading  Room,  "  is  a  history  super- 
 natural, and  almost  scenic."  Thus,  if  Natural  Theology  is  merely  specula- 
 tive, and  irreducible  to  the  level  of  experience.  Revealed  Religion,  though 
 more  substantial,  is  erected  upon  a  basis  which  modern  science  and  criti- 
 cism have  hopelessly  undermined. 
 
 Now,  if  we  relinquish  belief  in  miracles,  we  cannot  retain  belief  in 
 Special  Providence,  and  the  Eflicacy  of  Prayer,  for  these  are  simply 
 aspects  of  the  miraculous.  Good-natured  Adolf  Naumann,  the  young 
 German  artist  in  Middlemarch,  was  not  inaccurate,  though  facetious,  in 
 assuring  Will  Ladislaw  that  through  him,  as  througii  a  particular  hook  or 
 claw,  the  universe  was  straining  towards  a  certain  picture  yet  to  be  painted: 
 for  every  present  phenomenon,  whether  trivial  or  important,  occurs  here 
 and  now,  rather  than  elsewhere  and  at  some  other  time,  by  virtue  of  the 
 whole  universal  past.  All  the  forces  of  nature  have  conspired  to  place 
 where  it  is  the  smallest  grain  of  sand  on   the  seashore,  just  as  much  as 
 
THE  GOSPEL   OF  SECULARISM.     ■  797 
 
 their  interplay  has  strewed  the  Eether-floated  constellations  of  illimitable 
 space.  The  slightest  interference  with  natural  sequence  implies  a  disrup- 
 tion of  the  whole  economy  of  things.  Who  suspends  one  law  of  nature 
 suspends  them  all.  The  pious  supplicator  for  just  a  little  rain  in  time  of 
 drought  really  asks  for  a  world-wide  revolution  in  meteorology.  And  the 
 dullest  intellects,  even  of  the  clerical  order,  are  beginning  to  see  this.  As 
 a  consequence,  prayers  for  rain  in  fine  weather,  or  for  fine  weather  in  time 
 of  rain,  have  fallen  almost  entirely  into  disuse  ;  and  the  most  orthodox 
 can  now  enjoy  that  joke  about  the  clerk  who  asked  his  rector  what  was 
 the  good  of  pra3ing  for  rain  with  the  wind  in  that  quarter!  Nay,  more, 
 so  far  has  the  belief  in  the  efficacy  of  prayer  died  out,  that  misguided 
 simpletons,  who  persist  in  conforming  to  apostolic  injunction  and  practice, 
 and  in  taking  very  explicit  passages  in  the  gospels  to  mean  what  the  words 
 express,  are  regarded  as  Peculiar  People  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  term  ; 
 and  if  through  their  primitive  pathology  children  should  die  under  their 
 hands,  they  run  a  serious  risk  of  imprisonment  for  manslaughter,  notwith- 
 standing that  the  book  which  has  misled  them  is  declared  to  be  God's  Word 
 by  the  law  of  the  land.  Occasionally,  indeed,  old  habits  assert  themselves, 
 and  the  nation  suffers  a  recrudescence  of  superstition.  When  the  life  of  the 
 Prince  of  Wales  was  threatened  by  a  malignant  fever,  prayers  for  his  re- 
 covery were  publicly  offered  up,  and  the  wildest  religious  excitement 
 mingled  with  the  most  loyal  anxiety.  But  the  newspapers  were  largely 
 responsible  for  this ;  they  fanned  the  excitement  daily,  until  many  people 
 grew  almost  as  feverish  as  the  Prince  himself,  and  "irreligious  "  persons 
 who  preserved  their  sanity  intact  smiled  when  they  read  in  the  most  un- 
 blushingly  mendacious  of  those  papers  exclamations  of  piety,  and  saintly 
 allusions  to  the  great  national  wave  of  prayer  surging  against  the  Throne  of 
 Grace.  The  Prince's  life  was  spared,  thanks  to  a  good  constitution  and 
 the  highest  medical  skill,  and  a  national  thanksgiving  was  offered  up  in  St. 
 Paul's.  Yet  the  doctors  were  not  forgotten  \  the  chief  of  them  was  made 
 a  knight,  and  the  nation  demanded  a  rectification  of  the  drainage  in  the 
 Prince's  jialace,  probably  thinking  that,  although  prayer  had  been  found 
 efficacious,  there  might  be  danger  in  tempting  Providence  a  second  time. 
 
 Soon  after  that  interesting  event  Mr.  Spurgeon  modesdy  observed  that 
 the  philosophers  were  noisy  enough  in  peaceful  times,  but  shrank  into  their 
 holes  like  mice  when  imminent  calamity  threatened  the  nation;  which  may 
 be  true  without  derogation  to  the  philosophers  who,  like  wise  men,  do  not 
 bawl  against  popular  madness,  but  reserve  their  admonitions  until  the 
 heated  multitude  is  calm  and  repentant.  Professor  Tyndall  has  invited 
 the  religious  world  to  test  the  alleged  efficacy  of  prayer  by  practical  experi- 
 ment, such  as  allotting  a  ward  in  some  hospital  to  be  specially  prayed  for, 
 and  inquiring  whether  more  cures  are  recorded  in  it  than  elsewhere.  But 
 this  invitation  has  not  been  and  never  will  be  accepted.  Superstidons 
 always  dislike  contact  with  science  and  fact;  they  prefer  to  float  about  in 
 the  vague  of  sentiment,  where  pursuit  is  hopeless,  and  no  obstacles  impede. 
 
798  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 If  there  is  any  efficacy  in  prayer,  how  can  we  account  for  the  disastrous  and 
 repeated  AiiUire  of  righteous  causes,  and  the  triumph  of  bad  ?  The  thought- 
 ful poor  have  sought  appeasement  of  their  terrible  hunger,  for  some  nobler 
 life  than  is  possible  while  poverty  deadens  every  fine  impulse,  and  frustrates 
 every  unselfish  thought,  but  whenever  did  prayer  bring  them  aid  ?  The 
 miserable  have  cried  for  comfort,  sufferers  for  some  mitigation  of  their 
 pain,  captives  for  deliverance,  the  oppressed  for  freedom,  and  those  who 
 have  fought  the  great  fight  of  good  against  ill,  for  some  ray  of  hope  to 
 lighten  despair  ;  but  what  answer  has  been  vouchsafed  ? 
 
 The  dying  words  of  Tennyson's  Arthur — "  More  things  are  wrought  by 
 prayer  than  this  world  dreams  of" — are  a  weak  solace  to  those  who  recog- 
 nise its  futility,  and  find  life  too  stern  for  optimistic  dreams.  Salvation,  in 
 this  life  at  least,  cometh  not  by  prayer,  but  by  valiant  effort  under  the 
 guidance  of  wisdom,  and  the  inspiration  of  love.  Knowledge  alone  is 
 power.  Ignorant  of  nature's  laws,  we  are  broken  to  pieces  and  ground  to 
 dust ;  knowing  them,  we  win  an  empire  of  enduring  civilization  within  her 
 borders.  Recognising  the  universal  reign  of  law,  and  the  vanity  of  suppli- 
 cating its  reversal,  and  finding  no  special  law  in  the  statutes  of  the  universe 
 for  man's  behoof,  Secularism  dismisses  as  merely  superstitious  the  idea  of 
 an  arbitrary  special  providence,  and  affirms  Science  to  be  the  only  available 
 Providence  of  man. 
 
 Thus  theological  conceptions  obtruded  upon  the  sphere  of  secular  inte- 
 rests are  one  by  one  expelled.  We  now  come  to  the  last,  and,  as  the 
 majority  of  people  think,  the  most  serious  and  important — namely,  the 
 doctrine  of  a  Future  Life  and  of  Future  Reward  and  Punishment.  Mr. 
 Gladstone  says  that,  putting  this  world  and  the  next  into  two  scales  of  value, 
 the  Secularist  finds  that  the  one  weighs  much,  the  other  either  nothing,  or 
 nothing  that  can  be  appreciated.  This  is  very  near  the  truth.  Secularism, 
 as  such,  neither  affirms  nor  denies  a  future  life  ;  it  simply  professes  no 
 knotvledge  of  such  a  state,  no  information  respecting  it  which  might  serve 
 as  a  guide  in  the  affairs  of  this  life.  The  first  question  to  be  asked  con- 
 cerning the  alleged  life  beyond  the  grave  is,  Do  we  know  aught  about  it  ? 
 If  there  were  indisputably  a  future  life  in  store  for  us  all,  and  that  life  im- 
 mortal, and  if  we  could  obtain  precise  information  of  its  actualities  and 
 requirem.ents,  then  indeed  the  transcendence  of  eternal  over  temporal  inte- 
 rests would  impel  us  to  live  here  with  a  view  to  the  great  Hereafter.  But 
 have  we  any  knowledge  of  this  future  life?  Mere  conjectures  will  not 
 suffice  ;  they  may  be  true,  but  more  probably  false,  and  we  cannot  sacrifice 
 the  certain  to  the  uncertain,  or  forego  the  smallest  present  happiness  for 
 the  sake  of  an  imagined  future  compensation.  Have  we  any  knowledge 
 of  a  life  beyond  the  grave?     The  Secularist  answers,  decisively,  No. 
 
 Whatever  the  progress  of  science  or  philosophy  may  hereafter  reveal,  at 
 present  we  know  noticing  of  personal  immortality.  The  mystery  of  Death, 
 if  such  there  be,  is  yet  unveiled,  and  inviolate  still  are  the  secrets  of  the 
 grave.     Science  knows  nothing  of  another   life  than  this  ;  when  we  are 
 
THE   GOSPEL   OF  SECULARISM.  799 
 
 dead,  she  sees  but  decomposing  matter ;  and  while  we  live,  she  regards  us 
 but  as  the  highest  order  of  animal  life,  differentiated  from  other  orders  by 
 clearly  defined  characteristics,  but  separated  from  them  by  no  infinite  im- 
 passable chasm.  Neither  can  Philosophy  enlighten  us.  She  reveals  to  us 
 the  laws  of  what  we  call  mind,  but  cannot  acquaint  us  with  any  second 
 entity  called  soul.  Even  if  we  accept  Schopenhauer's  theory  of  will,  and 
 regard  man  as  a  conscious  manifestation  of  the  one  supreme  force,  we  are 
 no  nearer  to  personal  immortality  ;  for,  if  our  soul  emerged  at  birth  from 
 the  unconscious  infinite,  it  will  probably  immerge  therein  at  death,  just  as 
 a  wave  rises  and  flashes  foam-crested  in  the  sun,  and  plunges  back  into  the 
 ocean  for  ever.  Indeed,  the  doctrine  of  man's  natural  immortality  is  so 
 incapable  of  proof,  that  many  eminent  Christians  even  are  abandoning  it 
 in  favour  of  the  doctrine  that  everlasting  life  is  a  gift  specially  conferred  by 
 God  upon  the  faithful  elect.  Their  appeal  is  to  Revelation,  by  which  they 
 mean  the  New  Testament,  all  other  scriptures  being  to  tliem  gross  impo- 
 sitions. But  can  Revelation  satisfy  the  critical  modern  spirits  }  When  we 
 interrogate  her,  discord  deafens  us.  Every  religion — nay,  every  sect  of  re- 
 ligion— draws  from  Revelation  its  own  peculiar  answer,  and  accepts  it  as 
 infallibly  true,  although  widely  at  variance  with  others  derived  from  the 
 same  source.  These  answers  cannot  all  be  true,  and  their  very  discord 
 discredits  each.  The  voice  of  God  should  give  forth  no  such  uncertain 
 tidings.  If  He  had  indeed  spoken,  the  universe  would  surely  be  convinced, 
 and  the  same  conviction  fill  every  breast.  Even,  however,  if  Revelation 
 proclaimed  but  one  message  concerning  the  future,  and  that  message  were 
 similarly  interpreted  by  all  religions,  we  could  not  admit  it  as  quite  trust- 
 worthy, although  we  might  regard  it  as  a  vague  foreshadowing  of  truth. 
 For  Revelation,  unless  every  genius  be  considered  an  instrument  through 
 which  eternal  music  is  conveyed,  must  ultimately  rely  on  miracles,  and 
 these  the  modern  spirit  has  derisively  rejected.  Thus,  then,  it  appears 
 that  neither  Science,  Philosophy,  nor  Revelation,  affords  us  any  knowledge 
 of  a  future  life ;  yet,  in  order  to  guide  our  present  life  with  a  view  to  the 
 future,  such  knowledge  is  indispensable.  In  the  absence  of  it  we  must  live 
 in  the  light  of  the  present,  basing  our  conduct  on  Secular  reason,  and 
 working  for  Secular  ends.  How  far  this  is  compatible  with  elevated  mor- 
 ality and  noble  idealism  we  shall  presently  inquire  and  decide.  Intellectu- 
 ally, Secularism  is  at  one  with  the  most  advanced  thought  of  our  age,  and 
 no  immutable  dogmas  preclude  it  from  accepting  and  incorporating  any 
 new  truth.  Science  being  the  only  providence  it  recognises,  it  is  ever  de- 
 sirous to  see  and  to  welcome  fresh  developments  thereof,  assured  that  new 
 knowledge  must  harmonize  with  the  old,  and  deepen  and  broaden  the 
 civilization  of  our  race. 
 
 In  morals  Secularism  is  utilitarian.  In  this  world  only  two  ethical  methods 
 are  possible.  Either  we  must  take  some  supposed  revelation  of  God's  will 
 as  the  measure  of  our  duties,  or  we  must  determine  our  actions  with  a  view 
 t )  the  general  good.     The  former  course  may  be   very  pious,  but  it  is 
 
£oo  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 assuredly  unphilosophical.  As  Feuerbach  insists,  to  derive  morality  from 
 God  "is  nothing  more  than  to  withdraw  it  from  the  test  of  reason,  to  in- 
 stitute it  as  indubitable,  unassailable,  sacred,  without  rendering  an  account 
 7i'hy."  Stout  old  Chapman's  protest  against  confounding  the  inherent 
 nature  of  good  is  also  memorable  : — 
 
 "  Shoukl  heaven  turn  hell 
 For  deeds  well  done,  I  would  do  ever  well." 
 
 Secularism  adopts  the  latter  course.  Were  it  necessary,  a  defence  of 
 utilitarian  morality  against  theological  abuse  might  here  be  made  ;  but  an 
 ethical  system  which  can  boast  so  many  noble  and  illustrious  adherents 
 may  well  be  excused  from  vindicating  its  right  to  recognition  and  respect. 
 Nevertheless,  it  may  be  observed  that,  however  fervid  are  theoretical  ob- 
 jections to  utilitarianism,  its  criterion  of  morality  is  the  only  one  admitted 
 in  practice.  Our  jurisprudence  is  not  required  to  justify  itself  before  any 
 theological  bar,  nor  to  show  its  conformity  with  the  maxims  uttered  by 
 Jesus  and  His  disciples ;  and  he  would  be  thought  a  strange  legislator  who 
 should  insist  on  testing  the  value  of  a  Parliamentary  Bill  by  appealing  to 
 the  New  Testament.  Secularism  holds  that  whatever  actions  conduce  to 
 the  general  good  are  right,  and  that  whatever  have  an  opposite  tendency 
 are  wrong.  Manifold  objections  are  urged  against  this  simple  rule  on  the 
 ground  of  its  impracticability  ;  but  as  all  of  them  apply  with  equal  force  to 
 every  conceivable  rule,  they  may  be  peremptorily  dismissed.  The  imper- 
 fections of  human  nature  must  affect  the  practicability  of  any  moral  law, 
 however  conceived  or  expressed.  Christians  who  wrote  before  Secularism 
 had  to  be  combated,  never  thought  of  maintaining  that  reason  and  experi- 
 ence are  inefficient  guides,  although  they  did  sometimes  impugn  the  effi- 
 cacy of  natural  motives  to  good.  So  thoughtful  and  cautious  a  preacher 
 as  Barrow,  whom  Mr.  Arnold  accounts  the  best  moral  divine  of  our  English 
 Church,  says  that  "wisdom  is,  in  effect,  the  genuine  parent  of  all  moral 
 and  political  virtue,  justice,  and  honesty."  But  some  theologically-minded 
 ])ersons,  whose  appearance  betrays  no  remarkable  signs  of  asceticism,  wax 
 eloquent  in  reprobation  of  happiness  as  a  sanction  of  morality  at  all. 
 Duty,  say  they,  is  what  all  should  strive  after.  Good  ;  but  the  Secularist 
 conceives  it  his  duty  to  promote  the  general  welfare.  Happiness  is  not  a 
 degrading  thing,  but  a  source  of  elevation.  We  have  all  enjoyed  the 
 wonderful  catechism  of  Pig-PhiIoso])hy  in  Latter-day  Pamp/ilets.  What  a 
 scathing  satire  on  the  wretched  Jesuitism  abounding  within  and  without 
 the  churches,  and  bearing  such  malign  and  malodorous  fruit  !  But  it  is 
 not  the  necessary  antithesis  to  the  Religion  of  Sorrow.  It  is  the  mongrel 
 makeshift  of  those  "whose  gospel  is  their  maw,"  whose  swinishness  makes 
 them  contemplate  nature  as  a  universal  swine's-trough,  with  plenty  of  pig's- 
 wash  for  those  who  can  thrust  their  fellows  aside  and  get  their  paw  in  it. 
 The  Religion  of  Gladness  is  a  different  thing  from  this.  Let  us  hear  its 
 great  j^rophet,  Spinoza,  one  of  the  purest  and  noblest  of  modern  minds  : 
 "Joy  is  the  passage  from  a  less  to  a  greater  perfection;  sorrow  is  the  pas- 
 
THE   GOSPEL    OF  SECULARISM.  80 1 
 
 sage  from  a  greater  to  a  less  perfection."  No,  suffering  only  tries,  it  does 
 not  nourish  us  ;  it  proves  our  caiiacity,  hut  does  not  produce  it.  What, 
 after  all,  is  hap[)iiiess?  It  consists  in  the  fullest  healthy  exercise  of  all 
 our  faculties,  and  is  as  various  as  they.  Far  from  ignoble,  it  implies  the 
 highest  normal  development  of  our  nature,  the  dream  of  Utopists  from 
 Plato  downwards.  And  therefore,  in  affirming  happiness  to  be  the  great 
 purpose  of  social  life,  Secularism  makes  its  moral  law  coincident  with  the 
 law  of  man's  progress  towards  attainable  perfection. 
 
 Motives  to  righteousness  Secularism  finds  in  human  nature.     Since  the 
 evolution  of  morality  has  been  traced  by  scientific  thinkers,  the  idea  of  our 
 moral  sense  having  had  a  supernatural  origin  has  vanished  into  the  limbo 
 of  superstitions.     Our  social  sympathies  are  a  natural  growth,  and  may  be 
 indefinitely  developed  in  the  future  by  the  same  means  which  have  tleve- 
 loped  them  in   tl.c  past.     Morality  and   theology  are  essentially  distinct. 
 The  groumi  and  guarantee  of  morality  are  independent  of  any  theological 
 belief.     When  we  are  in  earnest  about  the  right,  we  need  no  incitement 
 from  above.     Morality  has  its  natural  ground  in  experience  and  reason,  in 
 the  common  nature  and  common  wants   of  mankind.     Wherever  sentient 
 beings  live  together  in  a  social  state,  simple  or  complex,  laws  of  morality 
 must  arise,  for  they  are  simply  the  i)ern">anent  conditions  of  social  health  ; 
 and  even   if  men  entertained  no  belief  in  any  supernatural  power,  they 
 would  still  recognise  and  submit  to  the  laws  upon  which  societary  welfare 
 depends.       "Even" — says    Dr.    Martineau — "though    we   came   out    of 
 nothing,  and  returned  to  nothing,  we  should  be  subject  to  the  claim  of 
 righteousness  so  long  as  we  are  what  we  are  :  morals  have  their  own  base 
 and  are  second  to  nothing."     Emerson,  a  religious  transcendentalist,  also 
 admits  that  "  truth,  frankness,  courage,  love,  humility,  and  all  the  virtues 
 range  themselves  on  the  side  of  prudence,  on  the  art  of  securing  a  present 
 well-being."     The  love  professed   by  piety  to   God  is   the  same  feeling, 
 though  ditferently  directed,  which  prompts  the  commonest  generosities  and 
 succours  of  daily  life.     All  moral  appeals  must  ultimately  be  made  to  our 
 human  sympathies.     Theological  appeals  are  essentially  not  moral,  but 
 immoral.     The  hope  of  heaven  and  the  fear  of  hell  are  motives  purely  per- 
 sonal and  selfish.     Their   tendency  is  rather  to   make   men   worse   than 
 better.     They  may  secure   a  grudging  compliance  with   prescribed  rules, 
 but  they  must  depress  character  instead  of  elevating  it.     They  tend  to 
 concentrate  a  man's  whole  attention  on  himself,  and  thus  to  develop  and 
 intensify  his  selfish  propensities.     No  man,  as   Dr.  Martineau  many  years 
 ago  observed,  can  faithfully  follow  his  highest   moral   conceptions  who  is 
 continually  casting  side-glances  at  the  prospects   of  his   own  soul.     Secu- 
 larism appeals  to  no  lust  after  posthumous  rewards  or  dread  of  posthumous 
 terrors,  but  to  that  fraternal  feeling  which  is  the  vital  essence  of  all  true 
 religion,  and  has  prompted  heroic  self-sacrifice  in  all  ages  and  climes.     It 
 removes  moral  causation  from  the  next  world  to  this.     It  teaches  that  the 
 harvest  of  our  sowing  will  be  reaped  here,  and  to  the  last  grain  eaten,  by 
 VOL.   I. — pt.  2.  3  G 
 
8o2  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 ourselves  or  others.  Everj-  act  of  our  lives  affects  the  whole  subsequent 
 history  of  our  race.  Our  menial  and  moral  like  our  bodily  lungs  have 
 their  appropriate  atmospheres,  of  which  every  thought,  word,  and  act, 
 becomes  a  constituent  atom.  Incessantly  around  us  goes  on  the  conflict 
 of  good  and  evil,  which  a  word,  a  gesture,  a  look  of  ours  changes.  And 
 we  cannot  tell  how  great  may  be  the  influence  of  the  least  of  tiiese,  for  in 
 nature  all  things  hang  together,  and  the  greatest  effects  may  flow  from 
 causes  seemingly  slight  and  inconsiderable.  When  we  thoroughly  lay  this 
 to  heart,  and  reflect  that  no  contrition  or  remorse  can  undo  the  past  or 
 efface  the  slightest  record  from  the  everlastfng  Book  of  Fate,  we  shall  be 
 more  strongly  restrained  from  evil  and  impelled  to  good  than  we  could  be 
 by  supernatural  promises  or  threats.  The  promises  may  be  mistrusted, 
 the  threats  nulliffed  by  a  late  repentance  ;  but  the  natural  issues  of  conduct 
 are  inevitable,  and  must  be  faced.  Whatever  the  future  may  hold  in  store, 
 Secularism  bids  us  be  true  to  ourselves  and  our  opportunities  now.  It 
 does  not  undertake  to  determine  the  vexed  question  of  God's  existence, 
 which  it  leaves  each  to  decide  for  himself  according  to  what  light  he  has ; 
 nor  does  it  dogmatically  deny  the  possibility  of  a  future  life.  But  it  insists 
 on  utilizing  to  the  highest  the  possibilities  that  lie  before  us,  and  realizing 
 as  far  as  may  be  by  practical  agencies  that  Earthly  Paradise  which  would 
 now  be  less  remote  if  one  tithe  of  the  time,  the  energy,  the  ability,  the  en- 
 thusiasm, and  the  wealth  devoted  to  making  men  fit  candidates  for  another 
 life  had  been  devoted  to  making  them  fit  citizens  of  this.  If  there  be  a 
 future  life,  this  must  be  the  best  preparation  for  it ;  and  if  not,  the  con- 
 sciousness of  humane  work  acliieved  and  duty  done,  will  tint  with  rainbow 
 and  orient  colours  the  mists  of  death  more  surely  than  expected  glories 
 from  the  vague  and  mystic  land  of  dreams. 
 
 There  are  those  who  cannot  believe  in  any  effective  morality,  much  less 
 any  devotion  to  disinterested  aims,  without  the  positive  certainty  of  im- 
 mortal life.  Under  a  pretence  of  piety  they  cloak  the  most  grovelling 
 estimate  of  human  nature,  which,  with  all  its  faults,  is  infinitely  better  than 
 ilieir  conception  of  it.  Even  their  love  and  reverence  of  God  would  seem 
 foolishness,  unless  they  were  assured  of  living  for  ever.  Withdraw  posthu- 
 mous ho])es  and  fears,  say  they  ;  and  "  let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow 
 we  die,"  would  be  the  sanest  philosophy.  In  his  grave  way  Spinoza  satir- 
 izes this  "vulgar  opinion  "  which  enjoins  a  regulation  of  life  according  to 
 the  passions  of  those  who  have  "  persuaded  themselves  that  the  souls  perish 
 with  the  bodies,  and  that  there  is  not  a  second  life  for  the.  miserable  who 
 have  borne  the  crushing  weight  of  piety''  "  A  conduct,"  he  adds,  "  as 
 absurd,  in  my  opinion,  as  that  of  a  man  who  should  fill  his  body  with 
 ])oisons  and  deadly  food  for  the  fine  reason  that  he  had  no  hope  to  enjoy 
 wholesome  nourishment  for  all  eternity  ;  or  who,  seeing  that  the  soul  is  not 
 eternal  or  immortal,  should  renounce  his  reason,  and  wish  to  become  in- 
 sane :  things  so  preposterous  that  they  are  scarcely  worth  mention." 
 
 Others,  again,  deny  that  a  philosophy  which  ignores  the   Infinite  can 
 
THE   GOSPEL   OF  SECULARISM.  803 
 
 have  any  grand  ideal  capable  of  lifting  us  above  the  petty  tumults  and 
 sordid  passions  of  life.  But  surely  the  idea  of  service  to  the  great  Hu- 
 manity, whose  past  and  future  are  to  us  practically  infinite,  is  a  conception 
 vast  enough  for  our  finite  minds.  The  instincts  of  .Love,  Reverence,  and 
 Service  may  be  fully  exercised  and  satisfied  by  devotion  to  a  purely  human 
 ideal,  without  resort  to  unverifiable  dogmas  and  inscrutable  mysteries. 
 And  Secularism,  which  bids  us  think  and  act  so  that  the  great  Human 
 Family  may  profit  by  our  lives  ;  which  exhorts  us  to  labour  for  human  pro- 
 gress and  elevation  here  on  earth,  where  effort  may  be  effective  and  sacri- 
 fices must  be  real ;  is  more  profoundly  noble  than  any  supernatural  creed, 
 and  holds  the  promise  of  a  wider  and  loftier  beneficence. 
 
 Secularism  is  often  said  to  be  atheistic.  It  is,  however,  neither  atheist'c 
 nor  theistic.  It  ignores  the  problem  of  God's  existence,  which  seenn  ii- 
 soluble  to  finite  intellects,  and  confines  itself  to  the  practical  world  of 
 experience,  without  commending  or  forbidding  speculation  on  matters  that 
 transcend  it.  Unquestionably  many  Secularists  are  Atheists,  but  others  are 
 Theists ;  and  this  shows  the  compatibility  of  Secularism,  with  either  a  posi- 
 tive or  a  negative  attitude  towards  the  hypothesis  of  a  supreme  universal 
 intelligence.  There  is  no  atheistic  declaration  in  the  principles  of  any 
 existing  secular  society,  although  all  are  unanimous  in  opposing  theology — 
 which  is  at  best  an  elaborate  conjecture,  and  at  the  worst  an  elaborate  and 
 pernicious  imposture. 
 
 Educated  humanity  has  now  arrived  at  the  positive  stage  of  culture. 
 Imagination,  it  is  true,  will  ever  hold  its  legitimate  province  ;  but  it  is 
 the  kindling  and  not  the  guiding  element  in  our  nature.  When  exercising 
 its  proper  influence,  it  invests  all  things  with  "a  light  that  never  was  on  sea 
 or  land  " ;  it  transforms  lust  into  love,  it  creates  the  ideal,  it  nurtures  en- 
 thusiasm, it  produces  heroism,  it  suggests  all  the  glories  of  art,  and  even 
 lends  wings  to  the  intellect  of  the  scientist.  But  when  it  is  substituted  for 
 knowledge,  when  it  aims  at  becoming  the  leader  instead  of  the  kindler,  it 
 becomes  a  Phaethon  who  drives  to  disaster  and  ruin.  It  is  degrading,  or 
 at  any  rate  perilous,  to  be  the  dupe  of  fancy,  however  beautiful  or  magnifi- 
 cent. Reason  should  always  hold  sovereign  sway  in  our  minds,  and  reason 
 tells  us  that  we  live  in  a  universe  of  cause  and  effect,  where  ends  must  1  e 
 accomplished  by  means,  and  where  man  himself  is  largely  fashioned  by 
 circumstances.  Reason  tells  us  that  our  faculties  are  limited,  and  that  our 
 knowledge  is  relative  ;  it  enjoins  us  to  believe  what  is  ascertained,  to  give 
 assent  to  no  proposition  of  whose  truth  we  are  not  assured,  and  to  walk  in 
 the  light  of  facts.  This  may  seem  a  humble  philosophy,  but  it  is  sound, 
 and  not  uncheerful,  and  it  stands  the  wear  and  tear  of  life  when  prouder 
 philosophies  are  often  reduced  to  rags  and  tatters.  Nor  is  it  just  to  call 
 this  philosophy  "  negative."  Every  system,  indeed,  is  negative  to  every 
 other  system  which  it  in  any  wise  contradicts ;  but  in  what  other  sense  can 
 a  system  be  called  negative  which  leaves  men  all  science  to  study,  all  art 
 to  pursue  and  enjoy,  and  all  humanity  to  love  and  serve  ?     It  declines  to 
 
8o4  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 traffic  in  supernatural  hopes  and  fears,  but  it  preserves  all  the  sacred  things 
 of  civilization,  and  gives  a  deeper  meaning  to  such  words  as  husband  and 
 wife,  fatlier  and  motiier,  brother  and  sister,  lover  and  friend. 
 
 Incidentally,  however,  Secularism  has  what  some  will  always  persist  in 
 regarding  as  negative.  It  finds  noxious  superstitions  impeding  its  path, 
 and  must  oppose  them.  It  cannot  ignore  orthodoxy,  although  it  would  be 
 glad  to  do  so,  for  the  dogmas  and  pretensions  of  the  popular  creed  hinder 
 its  progress  and  thwart  secular  improvement  at  every  step.  Favoured,  and 
 l)rivileged,  and  largely  supported  by  the  State,  they  usurp  a  fictitious  dignity 
 over  less  popular  ideas.  They  thrust  themselves  into  education,  insist  on 
 teaching  supernaturalism  with  the  multiplication  table,  dose  the  scholars 
 with  Jewish  mythology  as  tliough  it  were  actual  history,  and  assist  their 
 moral  development  .with  pictures  of  Daniel  in  the  lions'  den,  and  Jesus 
 walking  on  the  sea.  They  employ  v2.st  wealth  in  preparing  for  another 
 world  which  might  be  .more  profitably  employed  in  bettering  this.  They 
 prevent  us  from  spending  our  Sunday  rationally,  refusing  us  any  alternative 
 but  the  church  or  the  public-house.  They  deprive  honest  sceptics,  as  far 
 as  possible,  of  the  common  rights  of  citizenship.  They  retard  a  host  of 
 reforms,  and  still  do  the  utmost  to  suppress  or  curtail  freedom  of  thought 
 and  speech.  While  all  this  continues.  Secularism  must  actively  oppose  the 
 popular  creed.  Nor  is  it  just  on  the  part  qI  the  Cliristians  to  stigmatize 
 this  aggressive  attitude.  They  forget  that  their  faith  was  vigorously  and 
 persistently  aggressive  against  Paganism.  Secularism  may  surely  imitate 
 that  exam[)le,  although  it  neither  intends  nor  desires  to  demolish  the 
 temples  of  Christianity,  as  the  early  Christians,  headed  by  their  bishops, 
 destroyed  the  temples  of  Paganism,  and  desecrated  its  shrines. 
 
 Properly  speaking,  Secularism  is  doing. a  positive,  not  a  negative,  work 
 in  destroying  superstition.  Every  error  removed  makes  room  for  truth  ; 
 and  if  superstition  is  a  kind , of  mental  disease,  he  who  expels  it  is  a  mental 
 l)hysician.  His  work  is  no  more  negative  than  the  doctor's  who  combats 
 a  bodily  malady,  drives  it  out  of  the  system,  and  leaves  his  patient  in  the 
 full  possession  of  health. 
 
 Secularism,  like  all  new  systems,  appealing  to  the  dissatisfied  rather  than 
 the  contented,  its  staunchest  adherents  are  found  among  the  elite  of  the 
 working  classes.  Inquire  closely  into  the  personnel  of  advanced  move- 
 ments, and  you  will  find  Secularists  there  out  of  all  proportion  to  their 
 numerical  strengtli.  They  are  obliged  to  work  in  this  individual  manner, 
 for  the  bigotry  against  Secularism  is  still  so  strong  that  few  dare  to  recog- 
 nize its  organizations.  They  have  always  assisted  the  cause  of  National 
 Education,  and  now  it  is  carried  they  are  getting  their  members  on  School 
 Hoards,  and  doing  their  utmost  to  improve  the  quality  of  the  instruction 
 given  to  children,  as  well  as  to  preserve  them  from  the  nefarious  influence 
 (jf  the  priests.  They  promote  Sunday  freedom,  they  arc  advocates  of 
 international  peace,  they  are  sturdy  friends  of  justice,  they  are  firm  sup- 
 porters of    the  emancipation  of  women,  they  are  lovers  of  mental  and 
 
THE   GOSPEL   OF  SECULARISM,  805 
 
 personal  liberty,  and  they  are  actively  on  the  side  of  every  political  and 
 social  reform.  Where  Christians  inay  be  they  are  sure  to  be  ;  not  because 
 they  necessarily  have  better  hearts  than  their  orthodox,  neighbours,  but 
 because  their  principles  impel  them  to  fight  for  Liberty,  Equality,  and  Fra- 
 ternity, irrespective  of  nationality,  race,  sex,  or  creed ;  and  prompt  them 
 to  exclaim,  in  the  sublime  language  of  Thomas  Paine  :  "  The  world  is  mv 
 country,  and  to  do  good  is  my  religion," 
 
8o6 
 
 A   NATIONAL   CHURCH. 
 
 Bv  Arthur  W.  Hutton,  M.A. 
 
 The  subject  on  which  I  am  to  address  you  this  afternoon  may  seem  some- 
 what unconnected  with  that  general  series  which  has  been  carried  on  here 
 during  the  past  winter  wilh  so  much  success.  I  think,  however,  that  I 
 shall  be  able  to  show  you  that  this  is  not  really  the  case.  It"  there  is  one 
 impression  more  likely  than  any  other  to  remain  fixed  in  the  minds  of 
 those  who  have  attended  any  considerable  number  of  these  lectures,  it  is 
 this:  That  religion  is  an  immensely  important  thing;  that  national  welfare, 
 and  indeed  human  civilization  and  progress,  have  been  intimately  associ- 
 ated with  religion  throughout  the  whole  period  of  human  history ;  that 
 while  particular  religions  have  sprung  into  existence  here  or  there,  have 
 grown  to  maturity,  and  then  have  slowly  died  out  or  have  left  but  flickering 
 embers  to  commemorate  their  past  importance,  the  religious  spirit  itself 
 seems  to  be  immortal,  and  men  seem  always  to  need  a  field  for  the  exercise 
 of  their  religious  emotions,  as  much  as  they  always  need  food,  and  drink, 
 and  clothing. 
 
 Now  all  the  lectures  of  this  course  hitherto  delivered  have  dealt  v/ith 
 religions  of  the  past  or  religions  of  the  present.  Next  Sunday  week.  Dr. 
 Stanton  Coit  is  to  speak  on  what  may  fairly  be  termed  the  religion  of  the 
 future.  It  is  true  that  he  does  not  claim  for  ethical  culture  the  name  of 
 religion — he  holds  that  the  use  of  the  word  in  that  connection  might  prove 
 misleading.  But  since  the  essence  of  all  that  is  best  in  all  religions,  past 
 or  present,  lies  in  their  inculcation  of  duty,  in  their  advocacy  of  the  para- 
 mount importance  of  righteousness,  of  morality,  of  ethics — for  all  mean  the 
 same  thing  ;  I  do  not  think  we  need  trouble  much  about  the  word,  one 
 way  or  the  other.  And  before  I  go  farther,  it  may  serve  to  remove  any 
 possible  misconceptions  as  to  what  I  am  driving  at,  when  I  proceed  to 
 state  my  views  on  the  subject  of  a  National  Church,  if  I  say  at  once  that 
 I  profess  myself  to  be  a  discii)le  of  this  religion  of  the  future,  a  student  in 
 the  school  of  ethical  culture,  a  believer  in  the  supreme  law  of  righteous- 
 ness ;  antl  if  I  do  not  add  a  disciple  of  13r.  Coit  personally,  it  is  partly 
 because  I  claim  to  have  played  the  part  of  his  John  the  Baptist  here  at 
 Soulii  Place;  for,  more  than  four  years  ago  (before  I  had  the  pleasure  o( 
 hearing  his  name  or  of  learning  anything  about  the  movement  for  ethical 
 culture  in  America),  in  a  lecture  delivered  in  this  hall  one  Sunday  morning, 
 on  the  moral  training  of  children,  I  followed— crudely  perhaps,  but  defi- 
 nitely—the same  general  lines  that  are  now  so  ably  enforced  here,  week 
 a.*"tcr  week. 
 
A   NATIONAL   CHURCH.  807 
 
 ^^y  business,  however,  this  afternoon,  is  not  to  speak  on  ethical  culture, 
 but  on  a  National  Church  ;  and  I  shall  place  before  you  my  grounds  for 
 holding  that,  in  view  of  the  transition,  slow  but  inevitable,  from  the  old  to 
 the  new,  an  organization  such  as  we  in  England  possess  in  our  National 
 Church,  is  of  immense  value  ;  and  that  instead  of  being  destroyed — sup- 
 posing its  destruction  to  be  possible — or,  instead  of  being  handed  over  to 
 what  would  thenceforward  be  a  narrow  and  powerful  sect,  it  should  remain 
 a  department  of  the  State,  and  be  popularized,  liberalized,  nationalized,  so 
 as  to  provide  a  home,  as  free  as  may  be  from  pettiness  and  obscurantism, 
 in  wliich  the  national  religious  sentiment  may  develop  naturally. 
 
 Starting,  then,  from  the  point  of  view  that  religion  is  the  highest  form  of 
 education,  that   its   inculcation  and   its  practice  mean  the  training  of  the 
 moral  sense  ;  and  leaving  out  of  sight  for  the  moment  the  fact  that  popular 
 religion  invariably  associates  a  great  deal   of  superstition  with  this  system 
 of  ethical  training  ;  we   are   pointed  towards  tlie  conclusion  that,  on  prin- 
 ciples wliich  may  be  described  as  socialistic,  there  is  nothing  inconsistent 
 with  justice  in  the  abstract  idea  of  an  Established  Church.    On  the  contrary, 
 if  it  be  right  that  the  community  should  combine  for  elementary  education, 
 and  for  technical  education,  it  cannot  be  wrong  that  it  should  further  com- 
 bine for  ethical  education.     And  if  it  were  possible  to  establish  religion  in 
 this  sense  of  promoting  the  highest  intellectual  and  moral  cultivation  of  the 
 individual,  whether  youthful   or   mature,  it  would,   I  take   it,  be  the  duty 
 everywhere  of  the  State  to  establish  religion.     It  is  only  because  religion  is 
 so  confused  in  men's  minds  with  Ecclesiasticism  and  Clericalism  that  this 
 common-sense  view  of  the  matter  is  neglected  or  forgotten.     But  the  case 
 we  have  before  us  is  not  an  abstract  one ;  and  while  I  shall  have  to  admit 
 that  some  aspects  of  it  render  it  less  favourable  to  my  contention,  I  hope 
 to  be  able  to  point  out  that  on  various  grounds  the  reasons  for  retaining  an 
 existing  Establishment,  such   as   we  have   in   the  Church  of  England,  are 
 weightier  than  the  more  abstract  reasons  by  which  a  State  maintenance  of 
 reliyfion  in  general  would  he  defended. 
 
 Now,  in  order  to  clear  the  ground,  I  will  first  indicate  certain  questions, 
 partly  political  and  partly  ecclesiastical,  with  which  I  have  nothing  to  do. 
 
 The  Disestablishment,  twenty  years  ago,  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
 Church  of  Ireland  has  no  bearing  on  the  case  before  us.  That  was  not  a 
 popular  Church,  but  a  garrison  Church.  It  represented  the  English  con- 
 quest of  Ireland,  and  very  little  else.  In  my  sense  of  the  term  it  was  not 
 a  State  Church,  for  it  was  a  foreign  State  Church  ;  and  on  the  principle  of 
 popular  supremacy  it  was  bound  in  justice  to  be  deprived  of  its  ascendency. 
 None  of  us  regret  its  Disestablishment ;  some  of  us,  however,  do  regret  the 
 far  too  partial  Disendowment  to  which  it  was  subjected.  Those  funds,  of 
 which  it  had  the  administration  as  an  Established  Church,  were  national 
 funds,  bequeathed  originally  by  pious  Irishmen  in  olden  .times  for  the 
 maintenance  of  the  Catholic  religion,  and  diverted  from  their  original  in- 
 tention at  the  time  of  the  Reformation.     You  may  say  they  should  have 
 
8o8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 been  restored  to  the  existing  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  Ireland  ;  and  at 
 the  first  hearing  this  sounds  most  plausible.  But  on  reflection  we  see  the 
 justice  of  the  contention  that  the  national  welflire  is  to  be  preferred  to  all 
 else  ;  and  since  no  living  Catholic  in  Ireland  could  be  said  to  be  wronged 
 by  not  having  these  funds  transferred  back  to  his  Church  after  three  cen- 
 turies of  misappropriation,  we  are  allowed  to  conclude  that  what  was 
 originally  intended  for  the  benefit  of  the  nation,  and  especially  of  the  poor, 
 is  best  devoted  to  the  service  of  the  whole  nation,  in  such  matters  as  edu- 
 cation, which  concern  its  social  welfare,  and  that  apart  from  the  narrowing 
 guidance  of  conflicting  Churches.  I  do  not  say  that  Ireland  ought  not  to 
 have  an  Established  Church — that  would  be  in  conflict  with  the  general 
 jjrinciple  I  am  advocating  ;  but  an  Established  Church  in  my  view  should 
 be  the  popular  Church  ;  and  in  Ireland,  as  things  are  now,  that  would  be 
 the  Catholic  Church;  and  on  its  own  princi[)les  the  Catholic  Church  could 
 not  associate  itself  with  the  State  and  submit  to  popular  government  on 
 those  terms  which  alone  are  in  my  judgment  admissible— viz.,  the  acknow- 
 ledgment of  the  supremacy  of  the  State  :  of  the  Irish  State  that  is,  of 
 course,  in  the  present  case,  as  representing  the  Irish  people.  But  in  any 
 case,  so  large  a  share  of  these  endowments  ought  not  to  have  been  wasted, 
 as  they  were,  in  pensioning  off  worthless  clergymen,  who  never  had  any 
 duties  wortliy  the  name  to  perform  ;  and  who,  as  soon  as  they  were  sure 
 of  their  money,  retired  to  idle  away  the  remainder  of  their  aimless  lives  at 
 various  fashionable  watering-places. 
 
 Then,  again,  as  to  the  case  of  Scotland.  Here,  it  appears,  a  majority  of 
 the  people  are  in  f^ivour  of  Disestablishment ;  and  if  they  continue  to  be 
 of  that  mind,  of  course  Disestablishment  must  come.  The  case  differs 
 considerably  from  that  of  Ireland  ;  but  it  is  equally  a  theological  prejudice 
 which  makes  a  liberal  Establishment  of  the  kind  I  have  in  view  impossible 
 in  Scotland  at  the  present  time.  Two-thirds  of  the  population  of  Scotland 
 are  convinced  that  an  alliance  between  Church  and  State  is  prohibited  by 
 the  words  of  Christ,  when  He  said,  "  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world." 
 Of  course  with  such  transcendental  reasoning  as  this  you  and  I  have  no- 
 thing to  do.  Our  religious  kingdom  belongs  to  this  world,  and  to  no  other  ; 
 it  is  the  reign  of  righteousness  on  earth  that  we  seek  to  establish.  Such  it 
 would  seem  was  also  the  aim  of  Christ ;  but  if  two-thirds  of  the  Scottish 
 nation,  sincerely  holding  Him  as  their  Master,  are  of  opinion  that  He  con- 
 demns Established  Churches,  but  looks  with  favour  on  the  United  Pres- 
 byterians and  the  Free  Kirk,  they  must  on  liberal  principles  have  their  own 
 way;  and  certainly  if  Disestablishment  brings  about,  as  some  think  it  will, 
 the  fusion  of  the  three  Scotch  Kirks,  which  do  not  differ  from  each  other 
 on  theological  grounds,  none  of  us  will  regret  that  it  has  been  accom- 
 plished. 
 
 The  case  of  Wales  must  also,  I  think,  be  dissociated  from  that  of  Eng- 
 land, on  account  of  the  intense  unpopularity  of  the  .Vnglican  Church  there. 
 It  is  a  striking  example  of  the  folly  of  attempting  to  maintain  a  State  Church 
 
A   NATIOXAL   CHURCH.  809 
 
 on  any  other  than  a  popular  basis  ;  and  Piime  Ministers  in  their  appoint- 
 ments of  unsuitable  bishops  have  been  as  much  to  blame  as  bishops  in  their 
 appointments  of  unsuitable  clergymen  ;  and  both  are  responsible  for  the 
 existing  state  of  things.  Now  that  Disestablishment  in  Wales  has  found  a 
 place  on  the  political  programme,  it  must,  I  suppose,  sooner  or  later  come  ; 
 but  after  it  has  come,  and  when  the  term  "  liberal "  has  come  to  mean  in 
 Wales  more  what  it  means  with  us  in  London,  I  think  it  will  be  seen 
 that  the  local  population  has  suffered  by  surrendering  buildings,  that 
 were  really  national  property,  to  an  ecclesiastical  sect,  together  with  a  por- 
 tion of  national  endowments — the  remainder  having  passed  to  the  central 
 government,  and  so  ceasing  to  be  under  local  control.  That  at  least  is 
 what  is  meant  by  Disestablishment  and  Disendowment  as  now  proposed. 
 
 In  the  case  of  England,  however,  it  is  less  clear  which  way  the  popular 
 will  inclines  ;  and  while  that  is  so,  it  is  the  duty  of  every  one  who  thinks  he 
 sees  a  more  excellent  way  than  that  usually  advocated,  to  point  out  what 
 he  believes  to  be  the  dangers  of  the  one  scheme  and  what  the  advantages 
 of  the  other.  Now  the  great  mass  of  Englishmen  who  are  not  members  of 
 the  Established  Church,  in  the  sense  that  they  do  not  believe  the  doctrines 
 contained  in  its  Creeds  and  Articles,  and  do  not  attend  its  services — that 
 is  to  say,  about  fivcsixths  of  the  adult  population — are  rather  indifferent  to 
 the  Church  than  hostile  to  it.  I  cannot  deny  that  there  are  various  reasons 
 which  might  fairly  make  the  Church  unpopular.  Its  clergy  are  mostly  out 
 of  sympathy  with  liberal  movements.  They  are  in  many  cases  in  receipt  of 
 incomes  altogether  excessive  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  work  they  do. 
 They  do  not  hold  that  honourable  position  in  regard  to  learning  and  intel- 
 ligence which  the  clergy  in  other  countries  and  at  other  times  have  done. 
 Occasionally  we  hear  of  grave  scandals  in  the  ecclesiastical  world,  and  the 
 ridiculous  complexity  of  the  existing  ecclesiastical  law  renders  the  adequate 
 ])unishment  of  the  offender  difficult,  if  not  impossible.  Still,  when  all  has 
 been  said,  I  do  not  think  that  the  clergy  of  the  Church  of  England  are  on 
 the  whole  unpopular.  In  the  towns  especially  you  will  often  find  earnest, 
 hard-working  men — such  as  Mr.  Barnett,  of  St.  Jude's,  Whitechapel — 
 who  in  no  patronizing  or  pharisaical  spirit  has  really  the  interests  of  the 
 jjeople  at  heart ;  and,  what  is  to  my  purpose  this  afternoon,  this  spirit 
 seems  now  to  be  the  growing  one,  while  many  of  the  old  ecclesiastical 
 pretentions  are  silently  laid  aside.  I  will  give  you  an  illustration  of 
 what  I  mean  :  A  few  months  ago  I  was  invited  to  attend  a  lecture  to  the 
 London  clergy,  given  at  Sion  College  by  Mr.  Henry  George,  and  I  went. 
 Now  you  know  what  kind  of  a  lecture  Mr.  George  would  give,  so  I  need 
 not  describe  that.  But  the  striking  thing  was  the  sympathy  and  enthusi- 
 asm which  his  lecture  evoked.  It  is  true  there  was  one  old  clergyman  who 
 listened  sadly  for  a  short  time,  and  then,  shaking  his  head,  gathered  to- 
 gether his  umbrella  and  great  coat,  and  walked  out.  But  there  were  over 
 a  hundred  present,  and  the  great  mass  of  them  cheered  Mr.  George  over 
 and  over  again.     A  few  years  ago  this  would  have  been  quite  impossible  ; 
 
8io  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 and  what  is  the  reflection  that  it  suggests?  Why,  that  if  the  Church,  in 
 spite  of  the  iron  bars  and  gates  and  bolts  with  which  it  has  been  fenced 
 about,  thus  shows  signs  of  becoming  liberalized  from  within,  it  is  no  small 
 encouragement  to  those  of  us  who  would  seek  to  accelerate  that  liberaliz- 
 ing process  from  without.  And  now,  without  further  preface,  I  will  give 
 you  a  sketch  of  what  I  think  the  main  features  of  that  process  should  be. 
 
 On  the  one  hand  it  would  be  a  process  of  freeing  the  Church  from  theo- 
 logical and  ritual  bonds,  a  matter  which  would  simply  be  accomplished  by 
 the  repeal  of  the  Act  of  Uniformity.     I  suppose  it  is  not  popularly  known 
 that  the  authority  which  the   Prayer-Book   possesses  in   the  Church   is  in 
 virtue  of  its  being  the  schedule  to  an  Act  of  Parliament  passed  nearly  two 
 hundred  and  thirty  years  ago  by  the  royalist  lords   and   country  gentlemen 
 who  brought  about  the  restoration  of  King   Charles  II.      I   will   not  deny 
 these  men  their  merits  in  their  own  time  ;  but  it  is  obvious  that  a  body  of 
 reactionaries,  such  as  they  were,  have  nothing  whatever  in   common  with 
 the  progressive  religious  spirit  of  the  nineteenth  century  ;  and  yet  it  is  solely 
 in  virtue  of  an  enactment  approved  by  them   that  the  Church  has  become 
 the  exclusive  body  that  it  is.     It   was  their  doing,  for  example,  that  none 
 but  episcopally  ordained  clergymen  can  hold  office   in  the  Church.     I  do 
 not  su|)pose  that  the  full  liberty  which  this  simple   repeal  would  secure 
 would  at  once  be  realized  in  practice  ;  nor,  indeed,  do  I  think  it  desirable 
 that  it  should  be.     It  is  right  that  the  system  in   possession,  which  long 
 use  has  endeared  to  thousands  of  devout  and  susceptible  people,  should  be 
 tenderly  dealt  with.     It   is  only  gradually,   therefore,   that  the  old  order 
 would  change,  giving  place  to  the  new — the  new   being  ultimately  that  a 
 rational  religious  service  (if  service  it  be  rightly  called),  such  as  that  held 
 here  on  Sunday  mornings,  or  something  better  in  the  same  line,  could  be 
 held  (say)  in  St.  Paul's   Cathedral,  followed  by  a  sermon  (if  sermon  it  be 
 rightly  called),  in  which   human   effort  would  be  invoked  to   bring  about 
 some  amelioration  in   the  intellectual,  social,  or  moral  condition  of  those 
 who  must  stand   in   need  of  such  aid.     In   a  word,  the  resources  of  the 
 Established  Church  would  be  devoted  to  the  service  of  humanity.     I  say 
 that  the  mere  repeal  of  Charles  II. 's  Act  of  Uniformity  would  open  the  way 
 for  this  desirable  consummation — desirable,  that  is,  from  the  point  of  view 
 of  liberal  religious  thinkers — but  it  would  not  by  itself  accomplish  it.    The 
 repeal  would  free  the  Church  from  the  cold  grasp  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
 tury, but  the  warm  touch  of  the  living  nineteenth  century  would  be  required 
 to  bring  it  abreast  of  the  modern  world.    Plow  is  this  to  be  accomidished  ? 
 Simply  by  bringing  it  under  popular  control.     In  theory  it   is  so  already  ; 
 but  the  control  is  so  very  indirect  that  it  is  hardly  perceptible  in  its  effects 
 — indeed  it  must,  of  necessity,  be  ineffectual  as   long  as  the  Act  of  Uni- 
 formity is  retained,  which  is  absolutely  prohibitory  of  any  liberal  growth  or 
 movement.     Still,  in  theory,  the  Church  is  at  this  moment  under  popular 
 control ;  for  it    is  subject  to   the   Royal  Supremacy,  which  is  exercised 
 through  the  Ministry,  which  comes  into  power  by  the  presence  of  a  majority 
 
A   NATIONAL   CHURCH.  8ii 
 
 in  the  House  of  Commons,  which  is  elected  by  the  people.  The  Queen 
 nominally  appoints  the  Archbishops  and  Bishops  and  other  ecclesiastical 
 dignitaries,  who  in  their  turn  appoint  to  most  other  clerical  offices  ;  but 
 the  Prime  Minister  really  makes  the  appointments  ;  and  he  is  what  he  is 
 in  virtue  of  the  popular  voice  ;  so  that  the  Church  is  really  at  this  moment 
 under  popular  control,  though  the  fact  is  but  little  appreciated,  the  popular 
 action  being  so  very  indirect.  It  is  important,  however,  to  keep  the  fact 
 in  mind,  for  two  reasons.  First,  when  this  control  is  made,  as  I  hope  it 
 will  be,  more  direct  and  efficient,  it  will  be  a  reply  to  such  of  the  clergy  as 
 will  wish  to  repudiate  their  responsibility  to  the  people,  asserting  that  the 
 Church  was  independent  before,  whereas  it  is  now  stricdy  subject  to  the 
 State.  And  secondly,  it  is  well  that  our  friends  who  desire  Disestablish- 
 ment should  see  how  their  scheme  would  hand  over  to  an  independent 
 ecclesiastical  corporation  rights  of  considerable  national  importance  which 
 at  present  belong  to  the  people. 
 
 You  will  say  that  the  people  do  not  value  these  rights ;  know  nothing 
 whatever,  in  fact,  about  them ;  and  that  they  may  just  as  well  be  alienated 
 and  handed  over  to  those  who  would  value  them,  and  would  exercise  them 
 with  a  due  sense  of  responsibility.  I  cannot  at  all  accept  that  view  of  the 
 matter,  though  I  admit  that  the  people  know  little,  and  so  care  little,  about 
 the  whole  concern.  They  would  care  more  if  they  knew  more,  and  realized 
 what  interests  for  themselves  and  for  their  children  are  at  stake.  This  in- 
 creased interest  and  knowledge  would  undoubtedly  follow  if  the  popular 
 control  became  more  direct,  if  it  were  associated  (as  I  think  it  should  be) 
 with  the  new  system  of  Local  Government.  That  system  is  itself  as  yet 
 only  in  its  infancy  ;  but  it  has  made  a  good  beginning,  and  doubtless  ere 
 long  we  shall  see  District  Councils  as  well  as  County  Councils  working 
 under  the  general  direction  of  the  Local  Government  Board,  and  control- 
 ling, among  other  things,  the  local  administration  of  education  and  of  the 
 police.  It  would  all  be  on  the  same  lines  if  to  these  same  councils  were 
 entrusted  the  local  administration  of  Church  affairs.  The  alternative  to 
 Disestablishment  which  I  am  advocating  would  become,  in  its  main  fea- 
 tures, an  accomplished  fact,  if  Parliament  entrusted  Church  patronage  and 
 the  control  of  Church  property  to  these  representative  bodies.  That  is 
 my  main  principle— that,  together  with  the  repeal  of  the  Act  of  Uniformity  ; 
 and  now  to  make  my  meaning  clearer,  I  must  go  a  little  more  into 
 detail. 
 
 But  first  I  should  like  to  say  a  word  as  to  what  I  believe  would  be  the 
 probable  results  of  Disestablishment,  so  that  we  may  see  some  of  the 
 dangers  that  we  seek  to  avoid.  What  would  happen  if  Parliament  should 
 disestablish  and  disendow  the  Church  ?  Now  all  schemes  hitherto  pro- 
 posed have  gone  on  the  principle  that  the  ecclesiastical  buildings,  the 
 churches  and  parsonage  houses,  shall  be  handed  over  to  the  Church,  and 
 that  vested  rights  shall  be  scrupulously  respected.  Accordingly  as  each 
 bishop  or  incumbent  dies,  the  Act  would  come  into  operation  in  respect 
 
8 13  RELIGIOUS   SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 of  the  income  of  his  successor ;  but  his  church  and  house  would  have  be- 
 come the  property  of  the  Church  body.  What  then  would  be  the  immedi- 
 ate and  visible  result  of  Disestablishment?  Nothing,  so  far  as  I  can  see, 
 but  the  exclusion  of  the  Bishops  from  the  House  of  Lords.  Now  this 
 exclusion  some  years  back  used  to  be  regarded  as  a  most  desirable  con- 
 summation. People  imagined  all  kinds  of  good  consequences  if  it  could 
 only  be  brought  about.  But  who  shares  those  anticipations  now?  Many 
 of  us  think  it  would  be  well  to  be  rid  of  the  second  chamber  altogether ; 
 others  hold  that  a  second  elective  chamber  would  be  good  for  the  country. 
 But  the  Bishops  are  at  any  rate  among  the  most  respectable  members  of 
 the  Upper  House  ;  they  enter  there  by  merit,  and  not  by  the  mere  fact  of 
 birth  ;  and  if  their  appointment  were  more  directly  popular  than  it  is  at 
 present,  I  imagine  that  few  men  would  be  better  fitted  for  a  place  in  an 
 Upper  Chamber,  assuming  that  the  country  decides  to  keep  an  Upper 
 Chamber  at  all. 
 
 But  let  us  look  a  little  further  into  this  matter  of  vested  riglits.  A  young 
 man  of  third-rate  ability,  but  with  good  family  connections,  gets  through 
 the  easy  preliminaries  to  ordination,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-five  is  given, 
 we  will  suppose,  a  rich  family  living  in  the  country,  a  year  before  the  Dis- 
 establishment Act  is  passed.  For  forty  or  fifty  years  he  may  occupy  that 
 position  with  complete  independence,  although  both  in  character  and  in 
 teaching  he  may  be  altogether  objectionable  to  the  people  over  whom  he 
 is  placed.  I  would  ask  whether  his  parishioners  have  no  vested  rights  or 
 interests  as  well  as  he  ?  Whether  they  have  not  already  too  long  been 
 deprived  of  the  administration  of  the  funds  which  supply  his  handsome 
 income?  whether  they  might  not  claim  some  part  in  the  management  of 
 the  church  and  churchyard — the  ornament,  perhaps,  of  the  neighbourhood 
 — which  will  remain  this  young  man's  freehold  for  life.  To  ask  these 
 questions  is  to  answer  them  ;  but  I  have  not  stated  the  whole  case  yet. 
 The  advocates  of  Disestablishment  admit  that  Westminster  Abbey,  and 
 perhaps  the  cathedrals,  or  some  of  then>,  must  be  retained  as  national 
 monuments,  and  must  not  be  handed  over  to  the  Disestablished  Church  ; 
 but  they  forget  that  in  some  ten  or  fifteen  thousand  parishes  the  old  parish 
 church  is  the  only  national  monument  that  exists  ;  and  that  though  the 
 villagers  may  set  but  little  value  on  the  church  now,  that  would  not  be  the 
 case  when  they  find  they  have  a  hand  in  its  management,  and  when  im- 
 l)roved  education  shows  them  its  true  beauty  and  use.  Let  these  buildings 
 be  handed  over  to  the  Disestaijlished  Church,  or,  more  accurately,  to  the 
 newly-founded  episcopal  sect,  and  they  cease  to  be  the  people's  property 
 thenceforth ;  they  will  become,  presumably,  strongholds  planted  every- 
 where in  the  country  for  the  dissemination  of  a  sacerdotal  theology  which 
 the  educated  intelligence  of  the  nation  has  entirely  outgrown. 
 
 And  what  benefit  will  the  jieople  receive  from  the  accumulation  of  funds 
 in  the  hands  of  a  central  government — a  process  which  will  begin  so  soon 
 as  the  Disestablishment  Act  has  been  passed?    It  is  very  doubtful  whether 
 
A    NATIONAL   CHURCH.  813 
 
 they  will  receive  any  benefit  at  all.  A  good  deal  will  depend  on  the  tem- 
 per of  the  times.  Should  there  be  a  war  panic  about,  very  likely  the  whole 
 sum  that  Disestablishment  is  expected  ultimately  to  realize  will  be  squan- 
 dered on  fortifications,  or  on  an  increase  of  the  navy.  Perhaps  something 
 might  be  voted  for  education — that  is,  for  elementary  education  ;  but  we 
 should  remember  that  this  is  already  provided  for  by  law  ;  while  that  higher 
 education,  which  I  take  religion  to  be,  has  no  provision  for  its  mainten- 
 ance on  a  liberal  platform,  and  so  becomes  the  property  of  sects,  who,  in 
 the  struggle  for  existence,  continually  narrow  its  field. 
 
 We  can,  I  think,  make  a  tolerable  forecast  of  what  the  spiritual  character 
 of  the  Disestablislied  Church  would  become.  It  is  already  accused  of  a 
 tendency  to  sacerdotalism,  and  justly  too,  so  far  as  I  can  see  ;  but  we  must 
 remember  that  sacerdotalism  tempered  by  State  control  is  less  dangerous 
 than  it  would  be  without  it.  A  State  Church  is,  on  the  whole,  more 
 liberal  than  what  is  called  a  voluntary  one.  It  was  the  Free  Kirk  of  Scot- 
 land which  deprived  Professor  Robertson  Smith  of  his  post  at  the  University 
 on  account  of  heresy  ;  while  the  Established  Kirk  retained  Principal  Tul- 
 loch,  who  was  a  heretic  no  less.  To  give  another  example  :  Two  Canons 
 of  the  Church  of  England  have  lectured  here  on  Sunday  afternoons  with- 
 out rebuke  from  their  ecclesiastical  superiors,  while  the  President  of  the 
 Baptist  Union  was  censured  by  The  Baptist  for  doing  the  same  thing. 
 And  it  is  a  necessity  of  the  times  that  this  distinction  should  become  more 
 pronounced.  Modern  criticism  tends  more  and  more  to  leave  no  tangible 
 authority  but  that  of  the  State ;  and  ecclesiastical  bodies  not  connected 
 With  the  State  are  more  and  more  driven  into  those  transcendental  regions 
 where  the  eye  of  faith  alone  can  find  a  basis  for  the  authority  of  the  Church. 
 'J'his  authority  must  at  all  hazards  be  established  by  them,  else  they  cease 
 to  have  any  raiso7i  d'etre  ;  and  hence  the  growth  of  s  icerdotal  and  obscur- 
 antist doctrines.  Starting  therefore,  as  it  would,  with  a  majority  of  High- 
 Church  Bishops— for,  unfortunately,  both  Lord  Salisbury  and  the  only 
 possible  alternative,  Mr.  Gladstone,  are  High  Churchmen — the  Church  of 
 England  when  disestablished  would  certainly  develop  its  hierarchical  pre- 
 tensions as  its  ground  for  claiming  authority ;  and  since  bold  assertions 
 always  gain  disciples,  it  is  by  no  means  improbable  that  the  Church  might 
 become  a  formidable  rival  of  the  State,  and  that  we  might  suffer  here  in 
 England,  as  Italy,  France,  Germany,  and  Belgium  are  suffering,  from  that 
 detestable  conflict  between  Clericalism  and  Liberalism — a  conflict  whose 
 peculiar  bitterness  is  that  it  frequently  divides  husband  and  wife,  and 
 makes  a  man's  foes  to  be  those  of  his  own  household.  It  may  be  urged 
 that  the  proposed  nationalization  of  the  Church  would  not  avert  this  evil, 
 since  the  process  would  be  so  very  unacceptable  to  the  High  Church 
 clergy  that  they  would  secede  and  form  an  independent  body  outside  the 
 National  Church.  Now,  of  course,  it  must  be  clearly  understood  that  the 
 rights  of  conscience  are  sacred  on  liberal  principles,  and  that  there  must 
 be  no  coercion  in  this  matter  either  physical  or  spiritual.    I  take  for  granted 
 
8 14  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 that  a  variety  of  minor  sects,  as  well  as   the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  will 
 for  a  time,  or  perhaps  permanently,  refuse  to  associate  themselves  with  the 
 National   Establishment    of  religion.     Their   exclusion    will,  however,  be 
 their  own  doing ;  for,  of  course,  the  ideal  we   have  before  us  is  that  of  in- 
 clusion as  far   as  possible  ;  and  I  do  not   doubt  but  tliat  the  more  liberal- 
 minded  among  the  Dissenting  congregations — the  Unitarians,  for  example, 
 and  many  of  the  Independents — will  at  once  claim  to  be  admitted,  and 
 will  promptly  be  welcomed  within  the  National  Church.     Still  sects,  with 
 peculiar  theological  views,  and  most  of  all   such  as  have  ideas  about  the 
 special  sacredness  of  their  own  little  Bethel,  will  decline  to  be  incorporated, 
 and  we  must  not  dream  of  interfering  with  their  liberty.     Sooner  or  later 
 they  will  die  out,  while  the  mere  semblance  of  persecution  would  only  serve 
 to  prolong  their  existence.     And   to  these  sects  already  existing  it  is  quite 
 possible  that  a  secession  of  some  of  the  High-Church  clergy  might  add  a 
 new  one,  but  I  do  not  believe  it  would  be  a  big  affair.     There  would  really 
 be  no  occasion  for  it ;  for  the  changes  I  am  advocating  would  not  alter 
 fundamentally  the  constitution  of  the   Established   Church,    though  they 
 would  doubtless  alter  its  character  and  give  it  freedom.     Already  it  is  the 
 creation  of  the  State,  and  subject  to   the   will   of  an  elected  Parliament ; 
 already  it  contains  within  itself  men   of  the  most  divergent  theological 
 views ;  the  only  change  would  be  that  these  differences  would  hereafter 
 exist  with  the  most  perfect  honesty,  while  now  men  inside  the  Church  have 
 to  strain  the  interpretation  of  the  Articles  and  Formularies  to  which  they 
 are  legally  bound,  so  as   to  silence  the  protests  of  their  own  consciences. 
 And  I  believe  the  great  mass  of  the  clergy  would  recognise  this  when  the 
 nationalization  I  have  in  view  had  become  an  accomplished  fact;  though 
 before  its  accomplishment  they  would  move  heaven  and  earth   to  prevent 
 it,  and  would  declare  that  they  would  never,  never  accept  any  such  subjec- 
 tion of  the  Church  to  direct  popular  control.     I  have  myself  watched  the 
 course  of  similar  ecclesiastical   controversies  for  more  than   twenty  years, 
 and  others  could  testify  that  the  same  thing  has  continued  for  a  very  much 
 longer  period.     It  was  in  1863  that  I  was  first  shown  how  intolerable  was 
 the  position  of  the  Church  of  England,  in   that  her  final  Court  of  Appeal 
 was  a  secular  one — the  Queen   in   Council ;  and  I  was  assured  that  in  no 
 long  time,  unless  the  grievance  were  removed,  there  would  be  an  exodus 
 from  the  Established  Church  compared  with  which  the  Disruption  of  the 
 Scottish  Kirk  would  seem  insignificant.     But  what  has  happened  ?     The 
 grievance  has  not  been   removed,  it  is  there  to-day  precisely  as  it   was  in 
 1865  and  i)reviously  ;  a  handful  of  consistent  men,  but  a  mere  handful, 
 have  gone  over  to  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  wl  ich  acknowledges  no 
 Royal  supremacy  ;  but  the  vast  majority  have  remained  where   they  were, 
 sending  from  time   to  time  strongly-worded  letters   to  the  Church   news- 
 papers, still  threatening  us  with  the  disaster  of  their  secession,  which  I,  for 
 one,  do  not  believe  will  ever  become  an  accomplished  fact.     Some  of  the 
 men  with  whom  I  used  to  talk  on  these  subjects   in   former  years  are  now 
 
A    NATIONAL   CHURCH.  815 
 
 bisliops,  deans,  canons,  or,  at  any  rate,  beneficed  clergymen  ;  and  it  takes 
 a  good  deal  to  make  such  men  move  :  they  seem  well  content  with  the 
 safety-valve  of  the  so  called  Religious  Press.  And  the  same  thing  would 
 doubtless  occur  again.  A  great  deal  of  strong  language  would  be  used, 
 with  the  trifling  result  of  a  few  secessions ;  while  the  bulk  of  the  clergy 
 would  soon  acconmiodate  themselves  to  the  new  order  of  things ;  and 
 many  of  them,  to  do  them  justice,  would  be  intensely  relieved  by  their 
 emancipation  from  theological  tests,  and  would  find  an  immense  accession 
 of  moral  strength  and  influence  in  thus  being  brought  into  contact  with 
 the  people  among  whom  they  live.  Indeed,  as  I  said  a  few  moments  ago, 
 although  an  Act  of  Parliament  could  at  once  entrust  the  control  of  Church 
 patronage  and  ecclesiastical  endowments  to  the  local  Council,  it  is  not 
 likely  that  the  new  authority  would  exercise  its  powers  in  any  offensive  or 
 tyrannical  manner.  If,  for  example,  you  ask  me  what  I  think  would  be 
 the  immediate  result  if  the  London  County  Council  were  entrusted  with 
 the  appointment  of  the  next  Bishop  of  London,  I  should  say  they  would 
 choose  Mr.  Barnett,  of  Whitechapel ;  that  is  to  say,  while  the  repeal  of 
 the  Act  of  Uniformity  would  leave  them  absolutely  unfettered  in  their 
 choice,  so  that  any  one — clergyman  or  layman,  of  whatever  theological 
 views — might  be  appointed,  they  would  feel  bound  to  select  a  man  having 
 the  technical  qualifications  which  the  majority  of  those  interested  would 
 regard  as  indispensable,  wliile  they  would  be  careful  to  find  one  whose 
 religion  it  is  to  serve  the  people's  cause. 
 
 Perhaps  I  have  put  it  rather  too  broadly  in  saying  that  their  choice 
 wou'd  be  "  absolutely  unfettered."  I  mean  only  that  the  existing  restric- 
 tions, which  require  the  formalities  of  an  e|)iscopal  ordination  or  conse- 
 cration, together  with  subscription  to  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  and  a 
 promise  to  use  no  services  but  those  of  the  Prayer-Book  in  public  worship 
 — all  these  would  have  been  removed ;  but  certain  qualifications  would,  of 
 course,  be  necessary — moral  and  intellectual  qualifications  ;  and  these 
 should,  I  think,  be  insisted  upon  far  more  seriously  than  they  are  at  present. 
 What  is  especially  required  in  the  liberal  clergyman  of  the  future  is  what 
 we  call  "  character  " ;  and  it  is  just  this  which  the  present  method  of  selec- 
 tion leaves  out  of  account,  if  it  does  not  go  far  to  exclude  it.  The 
 superstition  which  represents  the  ceremony  of  Ordination  as  having 
 an  efiect  in  moralizing  or  spiritualizing  a  man  is  partly  responsible  for 
 this.  Bishops  are  content  to  accept  men  intellectually  and  morally 
 weak,  believing  that  Ordination  will  somehow  set  matters  right.  Any 
 one  who  is  at  all  familiar  with  the  life  of  our  Universities  in  recent 
 years  knows  how  few  comparatively  of  the  "strong"  men  now  be- 
 come candidates  for  Ordination.  They  may  have  the  best  qualifi- 
 cations for  discharging  the  best  kind  of  clerical  duties  ;  but,  unless  they 
 have  some  transcendental  theory  as  to  the  authoritative  basis  of  theological 
 systems,  they  cannot  accommodate  their  consciences  to  the  required  decla- 
 rations of  assent  and  consent  to  all  that  the  Bible  and  Prayer-Book  contain. 
 
ai6  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF  THE    WORLD. 
 
 And  so  they  turn  their  thoughts  in  quite  other  directions  ;  and  the  great 
 and  pressing  work  of  moral  education,  of  ethical  culture,  gets  no  help  from 
 them.  But  who  are  the  men  who  find  little  or  no  difficulty  in  getting 
 ordained,  and  in  so  becoming  qualified  for  office  in  the  National  Church? 
 Until  recently  it  was  a  pre-requisite,  very  seldom  dispensed  with,  that  they 
 should  have  taken  a  University  Degree.  That,  of  course,  is  not  difficult  when 
 it  is  merely  a  pass  without  honours.  But  very  little  else  is  wanted.  A  cer- 
 tificate of  having  attended  a  course  of  twelve  lectures  ;  an  easy  examination 
 in  what  is  called  theology,  involving  only  a  superficial  acquaintance  with  a 
 few  books  of  no  scientific,  and  of  third-rate  literary  value  ;  a  testimonial  as 
 to  character  from  three  clergyman,  who  need  know  but  very  little  about 
 the  man — and  that  is  all  ;  while  of  these  few  and  easy  conditions,  the  most 
 important  one,  the  University  Degree,  is  now  dispensed  with  as  frequently 
 as  it  is  demanded,  because  the  obsoleteness  of  the  required  theology  makes 
 it  necessary  that  the  bishops  should  put  up  with  the  lack  of  academical 
 training.  They  would  not  get  half  as  many  men  as  they  want  if  they  in- 
 sisted on  it.  Popular  control  would  here,  I  am  confident,  bring  about  a 
 much-needed  reform.  It  would  insist  on  intellectual  ability  and  cultiva- 
 tion ;  it  would  not  require  a  declaration  of  assent  to  theological  dogmas  ; 
 it  would  demand  men  of  tried  moral  strength,  it  would  not  rely  upon  an 
 raniique  ceremony  to  provide  them  with  spiritual  power  and  character. 
 
 I  do  not  say  that  the  change  would  come  at  once.  It  is  a  necessity  of 
 the  case  that  it  should  be  gradual.  But  sooner  or  later  we  should  have  a 
 national  clergy,  abreast  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  progress  of  the  times, 
 no  longer  a  separate  caste,  wearing  a  peculiar  dress,  as  if  they  claimed  to 
 be  a  different  species  from  the  rest  of  their  fellow-men,  but  owing  their 
 claim  to  spiritual  leadership  to  their  superior  culture,  enlightenment,  char- 
 acter; and  I  do  not  believe  the  time  will  ever  come  wlien  there  will  be  no 
 need  of  such  men.  The  National  Church,  when  it  has  passed  through  the 
 process  of  this  new  reformation,  might  be  described  as  a  great  society  for 
 the  extension  of  University  teaching,  only  it  would  be  considerably  more 
 than  that  phrase  at  present  implies.  For  not  only  would  its  clergy  be  the 
 authorized  agents  for  conveying  the  best  knowledge  of  the  times  in  litera- 
 ture, science,  and  art,  intcj  all  parts  of  the  country  ;  but  they  would  similarly 
 be  commissioned  to  deal  with  ethical  and  spiritual  questions — a  field 
 which  is  as  yet  untouched,  as  near  as  may  be,  by  any  such  society  at 
 present  existing. 
 
 I  am,  of  course,  aware  that  a  thousand  practical  difficulties  may  be  urged 
 as  proving  the  scheme  I  am  advocating  to  be  hopeless  and  visionary,  how- 
 ever admirable  in  its  general  idea.  No  doubt  grave  problems  would  arise, 
 some  of  them  hard  to  solve  ;  but  what  great  reform  worthy  the  name  has 
 not  been  carried  out  in  the  face  of  great  difficulties  ?  Some  of  these  prob- 
 lems have  already  been  anticipated  and  considered  in  a  little  volume  called 
 "Church  Reform,"  one  of  the  "  Imperial  Parliament  Series,"  published  by 
 Messrs.  Sonnenschein ;  and  I  hope  that  such  of  you  as  are  interested  iti 
 
A   NATIONAL   CHURCH.  817 
 
 this  question  will  read  what  is  there  contained — it  is  the  work  of  several 
 writers;  for  though  I  think  some  of  the  proposals  are  inadequate,  I  am  in 
 general  symj^athy  with  it,  and  I  should  be  sorry  for  any  of  you  to  carry 
 away  the  impression  that  what  I  am  advocating  is  the  mere  creation  of  my 
 brain.  An  increasing  number  of  thoughtful  men  and  women  have,  for 
 some  years  past,  been  looking  in  this  direction  for  the  best  solution  of  the 
 Church  Establishment  question.  We  are  all  agreed  that  things  cannot  re- 
 main as  they  are  ;  but  it  is  not  in  liberation  from  State  control,  so  much  as 
 in  making  that  control  a  reality,  that  we  think  the  true  answer  will  be  found. 
 State  control,  as  it  exists,  leaves  the  clergy  independent  of  the  people  whom 
 they  serve ;  and  so  it  has,  during  the  last  forty  years,:done  more  than  anything 
 else  to  foster  the  growth  of  what  I  must  call  sacerdotal  arrogance — for  the 
 thing  exists,  though  I  do  not  like  using  what  sounds  like  abusive  language  ; 
 but  State  control  in  the  sense  of  popular  control  would  soon  change  all 
 that.  The  Church  of  England  does  not  need  a  liberation  which  would 
 really  give  freer  play  only  to  ecclesiastical  despotism  ;  it  is  the  people  who 
 need  liberation  from  that.  But  it  does  need  freeing  from  dogmatic  fetters 
 forged  in  an  age  when  modern  ideas  of  toleration  were  yet  unknown.  And 
 from  personal  knowledge  I  can  affirm  that,  from  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
 bury downwards,  there  are  hundreds  and  .thousands  of  Churchmen  who 
 would  be  glad  to  have  these  fetters  lightened,  though  I  admit  they  are  not 
 yet  prepared  to  abandon  them  altogether. 
 
 Presumably,  on  the  repeal  of  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  while  prosecutions 
 on  account  of  unorthodoxy  would  become  impossible,  I  take  it  that  the 
 various  congregations,  or  parishes,  would  elect  councils  whose  business  it 
 would  be  to  see  to  the  conduct  of  the  Church  services,  in  such  a  manner 
 as  is  best  suited  to  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  each  place ;  and  this 
 would  hinder  any  sudden  and  violent  breach  with  the  past,  while  it  would 
 leave  the  door  open  for  progressive  modifications.     The  question  of  the 
 appointment  or  removal  of  clergymen  presents  greater  difficulties  ;  and 
 perhaps  it  would  be  best  to  have  no  uniform  method  everywhere.     In  re- 
 gard to  the  removal  of  unsuitable  men,  doubtless  the  opinion  of  the  con- 
 gregation ought  to  have  the  greatest  weight ;  but  it  should  be  understood 
 that  this  applies  to  moral  and  intellectual  disqualifications,  and  not  to  a 
 mere  disapproval  of  a  man's  more  liberal  views.     For  it  must  be  borne  in 
 mind  that    a    congregation  is  not  infrequently  less  enlightened  than  its 
 minister — indeed,  the  whole  idea  of  the  Church  as  an  educational  institu- 
 tion implies  that  this  is  the  normal  case — and  it  would  be  intolerable  if  a 
 well-read  and  conscientious  clergyman  should  be  deprived  of  his  post  be- 
 cause he  tells  his  people,  for  example,  the  truth  about  the  Bible ;  while  we 
 must  not  forget  the  case,  far  commoner  than  is  supposed,  especially  among 
 Dissenting  communities,  where  the  minister  preaches  down  to  the  level  of 
 his  flock,  and  affects  an  orthodoxy  to  which    his    intelligence  does  not 
 assent,  for  fear  of  offending  his  deacons  or  other  church  officials.    And  the 
 same  considerations  apply  to  the  question  of  clerical  appointments.    Leave 
 VOL.  I.— pt.  2.  3  H 
 
8i8  RELIGIOUS  SYSTEMS   OF   THE    WORLD. 
 
 the  appointments  absolutely  in  the  hands  of  the  congregation,  whose  know- 
 ledge of  the  clerical  world  hardly  extends  beyond  their  own  particular 
 church,  and  you  are  in  danger  of  encouraging  that  very  narrowness  which 
 popular  control  ought  to  prevent.  I  confess  that  I  am  all  against  the 
 direct  election  of  a  clergyman  by  the  congregation ;  I  tliink  it  bad  for  both 
 sides.  I  should  like  to  see  the  appointments  in  the  hands  of  a  body  whose 
 horizon  is  wider — say,  a  Committee  of  the  local  District  or  County  Council, 
 subject  no  doubt  to  a  veto  of  the  congregation  affected  with  the  grounds 
 definitely  stated  in  writing.  But  it  is  a  difficult  question,  and  I  only  throw 
 out  these  ideas  as  suggestions.  The  fact,  however,  that  the  Church  of 
 England  has  on  the  whole  been  widened  by  the  existence  of  a  considerable 
 amount  of  lay  patronage,  even  when  placed  in  irresponsible  hands,  is  in 
 favour  of  my  contention  that  the  spiritual  freedom  of  the  Church  would  be 
 best  served  in  the  future  by  a  continuance  of  this  method  of  lay  patronage 
 exercised  by  representative  bodies.  Of  course  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  add 
 that  any  form  of  Disestablishment  would  put  an  end  to  this  kind  of  lay 
 patronage.  All  appointments  to  posts  in  our  cathedrals  and  parish  churches 
 would  be  made  by  the  bishops  or  the  clergy  or  else  by  those  little  cliques 
 of  devout  laymen  who  are  often  more  clerical  than  the  most  reverend  of 
 the  clergy  themselves. 
 
 I  have  said  perhaps  enough  to  lay  this  subject  before  you  for  consider- 
 ation ;  but  now  that  I  am  concluding,  I  see  how  much  more  might  be 
 adduced  to  illustrate  and  enforce  my  argument.  Take,  for  example,  the 
 contemptible  condition  of  theological  and  Biblical  criticism  in  England  as 
 compared  with  what  we  see  in  France,  Germany,  and  even  in  Holland. 
 Our  endowments  in  aid  of  these  studies  are  magnificent  compared  with 
 those  in  the  countries  I  have  named ;  but  the  professorships  can  only  be 
 held,  in  virtue  of  Act  of  Parliament,  by  men  in  Priests'  Orders  who  have 
 solemnly  sworn  that  they  believe  about  the  Bible  and  Prayer  Book  much 
 the  same  that  was  believed  by  the  divines  of  the  seventeenth  century  ;  and 
 if  their  studies  should  cause  them  to  abandon  this  belief,  they  are  bound 
 in  conscience  (so  it  seems  to  me)  to  resign  their  posts.  The  result  is  that 
 the  Established  Church  has  become  a  kind  of  endowed  conspiracy  to  hush 
 up  all  that  more  independent  students  in  foreign  countries  have  done  to 
 throw  light  on  the  dark  places  of  theology. 
 
 Nor  must  we  forget  how  this  obscurantism  of  the  Established  Church 
 affects  the  smaller  voluntary  Churches  by  its  side.  It  sets  the  fashion,  and 
 they  follow.  The  Unitarians  themselves,  in  spite  of  their  far  more  rational 
 position,  are  hardly  an  exception  to  this  rule  in  England,  though  in  the 
 United  States  they  are  less  hampered  by  conservative  traditions.  But  the 
 Church  of  England's  obscurantist  influence  extends  even  to  America  and 
 the  colonies,  while  a  widening  of  its  intellectual  life  at  home  would  doubt- 
 less have  a  corresponding  influence  across  the  seas.  In  truth  this  National 
 Establishment  of  Religion,  which  we  have  inherited  from  our  fathers,  is 
 a  great  trust,  not  only  in  its  power  for  good  or  evil  at  home,  but  in  the 
 
A   NATIONAL   CHURCH.  819 
 
 part  that  it  is  competent  to  play  in  the  widening  of  the  religious  life  of 
 English-speaking  people  all  over  the  world.  I  think  that  most  of  us  do 
 not  sufficiently  realize  that,  while  this  Church  remains  a  State  institution, 
 we  hold  its  future  in  our  hands.  We  can,  of  course,  in  impatience  at  its 
 obvious  faults,  refuse  to  recognise  our  responsibility  to  lapse  into  the  hands 
 of  others  who  will  know  the  worth  of  what  we  are  giving  away.  But  I 
 would  ask  you  to  remember  the  value  of  all  existing  organizations  ;  to  re- 
 member that  the  worst  use  we  can  make  of  an  institution  is  to  destroy 
 it.  It  is  a  fine  saying  of  Burke's  :  "  Wisdom  cannot  create  materials  ;  her 
 pride  is  in  their  use."  l^efore  many  years  are  gone  the  people  of  England 
 will  be  called  upon  seriously  to  consider  whether  they  are  able  and  willing 
 to  use,  in  the  light  of  modern  science  and  criticism,  the  materials  for 
 religious,  spiritual,  and  ethical  culture,  which  the  piety  of  past  centuries 
 has  created  for  them  ;  or  whether  they  prefer  to  let  their  inheritance  pass 
 into  sectarian  hands.  If  our  consideration  of  this  subject  this  afternoon 
 has  done  anything  to  better  the  prospects  of  the  former  alternative,  I  do 
 not  think  that  you  will  complain  that  I  have  wasted  your  time. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Abidliarma  Pitaka:  158. 
 
 Act  of  Uniformity  :  Repeal  817. 
 
 AdiGrantk:  306,  310. 
 
 Alms-giving,  Muhammadan  :  295. 
 
 Amenolhes  IV.  :  King  7,  8. 
 
 American    Presbyterian     Church  :     550  ;     Native 
 
 Religion  354-373- 
 Americans,  Ancient  :  Probable  Descent  355,  356. 
 Ancestor  Worship:    56,  58,   59,    71,    73,   99,    110; 
 
 Greek  220-224  ;  Hindu  119  ;  Teutonic  279. 
 Antony:  Caves  of  427. 
 Anu  :  29,  30. 
 
 Apocryphs  :  among  Slavs  403. 
 Apostacy  :  670,  671. 
 Apostles'  Creed  :  469. 
 Apostles  :  Irvingite  595,  596. 
 Appanages  :  Russian  System  425. 
 Arahat,  The  :  Life  148,  149. 
 
 "  Arahatship  "  ;  Thirty-seven  Divisions  of  147-149. 
 Ark,  The :  56. 
 Armenia :    Exposed  Position   380 ;    Historj'   382  ; 
 
 Primitive  Inhabitants  380;  Religious  Position 
 
 382  ;  Sun  Worship  385. 
 Armenian  :   Conversion   to   Christianity  384,  385  ; 
 
 Church  379-404  ;  Convent  at  Venice  396,  397  ; 
 
 Ritual   388,    393 ;    Government   394  ;    Liturgy 
 
 393  ;  Sacraments  393,  394  ;  Wide  Dispersion 
 
 379-     „      . 
 Armenian  Baptist  :  571. 
 Arya  .Samaj,  'l"he  :  124. 
 Art,  Tnje  :  633,  634. 
 Assemblies  :  Sikh  310. 
 Asshur  :  28,  29. 
 Assyria :  Religion  26-41. 
 Athanasius,  St.  :  Creed  555. 
 Atonement,  The  :  661,  662. 
 Attributes,  Six,  of  Zoroaster  :  i3i. 
 Authority  :  Divine  668. 
 Avalokiteshvara :  Worship  of  178,  179. 
 Avesta,  The:  180;  Age  197;  Ritual  196;  Study 
 
 of  192. 
 Aztec  Civilization  :  358,  359. 
 
 Babis,  The :  Persecution  of  347-350. 
 
 Babiism  :  334-353  ;  Centre  of,  removed  to  Baghdad 
 
 350;  Doctrines  351,  352,  353;  Later  History 
 
 351-353. 
 Babylon:  Establishment  of  2i  ;  Fall  23;  Religion 
 
 15-25. 
 Baptism  :  Rite  509,  510,  562,  563,  564,  565,  568. 
 
 ,,  for  the  Dead  :  565-567. 
 
 Baptist  Church,   English  :  Origin   564,   56C,   567  ; 
 
 Missions,  561. 
 Baptists  :  General,   Founding  of  571  ;  Intellectual 
 
 Freedom  due  to  568  ;  Place  of,  in  Evolution  of 
 
 Christianity,  559-574  :  Religious  Organization 
 
 of,  561  ;  True  Place  561,  562,  572. 
 Basil,  Duke  :  427,  429. 
 Baskets  of  the  La7u:  157,  158. 
 Beating  the  Bounds  :  Custom  246-248. 
 Bel :  29,  30. 
 
 Betroth.al,  Infant,  among  Parsis  :  189. 
 fiible,  The^  as  an  authority  :  445,  446,  454. 
 liiblical  Criticism,  State  o(,  in  England  SiS. 
 Hook  of  Mormon:  671-675. 
 Book  oft  lie  Dead :  4. 
 Hook  0/ Plain  Words:  87,  83. 
 Book  0/ Recomfenscs  :  88,  90. 
 Books  0/ Chronicles  :  50,  51. 
 Books  0/ Samuel :  46,  47. 
 Brahma:  115. 
 Brahman,  'J'he  :  114. 
 Brahm.Tric  Scriptures  :  114. 
 
 Brahmo  Somaj  :  124. 
 
 Buddha  :  Life  i63  ;  Parting  Charge  to  Disciples 
 165  ;  Mission  165  ;  Sayings  159,  160  ;  Sermon 
 173  ;  Spiritual  Control  162,  173  ;  Teachings 
 164. 
 
 Buddha  and  Buddhism  :  152-165. 
 
 ,,      and  Christ  :  154-15S  ;  Estimates  of  Peniten- 
 tial E,xercises  137. 
 ,,      and  Plato  :  175. 
 ,,      and  Zoroaster  :  169,  170. 
 
 Buddhism  :  76,  126,  142-151  ;  Characteristics  152  ; 
 Doctrines  155,  156,  158,  161  ;  Secret  of  Power 
 of  173,  174,  175  ;  Doctrine  of  Impermanence 
 142,  143,  156;  Doctrine  of  Reward  and  Pun- 
 ishment 155;  Roots  155;  Teaching  169,  170, 
 171,  174  ;  Theory  of  Individuality  144. 
 
 Buddhism  in  China:  Introduction  into  173  ;  Source 
 of  Influence  175. 
 
 Buddhism  in  Japan  :  Development  94  ;  Disestab- 
 lishment 104  ;  Founding  93 ;  Teachings  95  ; 
 Supremacy  103. 
 
 Buddhist  Temples  of  Shintu  Shrines  :  96. 
 
 Bulls  amongst  Penitents  :  137. 
 
 Bunting,  Dr.  :  585. 
 
 Burial  of  the  Dead  :  Slavonic  274. 
 
 Calvin,  John  :  53<5-539.  S42.  543- 
 
 Cardale,  J.  Bate  :  594,  595,  596,  597. 
 
 Castes  :  Hindu  114. 
 
 Catechism  :  Parsi  186. 
 
 Catholic  Apostolic  Church  :  594-601. 
 
 ,,        Roman,  Church  :  442-461  ;  Effort  to  Sub- 
 jugate Japan  95,  96  ;  English  Attitude  towards 
 478  ;     Meaning    of    448-451  ;     Mission    446  : 
 Teachings  447,  460  ;  Universality  444  ;  Vitality 
 442-444,  466. 
 Catholic,  Old  :  see  Old  Catholics. 
 Caves  :  Mithraic  203,  204. 
 Chaldean  :  Legend  of  Creation  38,  39  :  Mythology 
 
 16,  17,  iS. 
 Chalmers,  Thomas  :  547,  548. 
 Champollion  :  3. 
 Chang,  Pope  :  90,  91. 
 Chauvin,  Gerard :  535,  536. 
 
 „        John  :  536-539.  542.  543. 
 Cherubim,  The  :  54. 
 China  :  Religion  68-75. 
 Chinese  Pilgrim,  Fable  of  a  :  178. 
 Christ :  Divinity  452,  453  ;  Mission  445. 
 
 ,,        and  Mithra  210. 
 Christendom,   Theology  of:   Influence  of  Greece 
 
 on  245. 
 Christianity  :  Early,  an  Intellectual  Movement  555  ; 
 Expansiveness  711,   712;    Harm   wrought   by 
 373,  374  ;  Introduction  into  Russia  420. 
 Christianity  :  and  Er  item  Beliefs  Contrasted  94,  95. 
 ,,  and     Muhammadanism  :       Common 
 
 Ground  300. 
 Christians,  Armenian  :  Persecution  of  386. 
 Christmas  Day  :  Mithraic  Celebration  214. 
 Chronicles,  Books  o/t/te  :  50,  51. 
 Chuang-tzu  :  Sayings  of  85,  86. 
 Church  and  State  :  Doctrine  568,  569. 
 
 ,,      and  Synagogue  :  Difference  between  their 
 Teachings  6^3. 
 Church  :  Armenian  370-404  ;  Distinguishing  Marks 
 of  Ritual  388.  393  ;  Government  394  ;  Liturgy 
 393  ;  Sacraments  393,  394. 
 Church  :  Catholic  :  see  Catholic. 
 
 „  of  England  :  508-519,  532  ;  a  Compromise 
 
 508  ;  Disestablishment  510,  517,  518,  519  ; 
 Probable  Results  of  Disest.  811-815  ;  Endow- 
 ment 518  :  Gain  and  Loss  of  Power  516  ;  Or- 
 
 820 
 
INDEX. 
 
 821 
 
 Sanization   513,  314  ;   Reasons  for   Retaining 
 
 807,  809,  810  ;  Reform  Desirable,  Sio,  811  ;  Its 
 
 Task  508,  514  ;  Wealth,  514,  515. 
 Church  :  Greek  :  see  Greek  Church. 
 
 ,,        Irish  Prot.  Episc.  :  Disestabl.  807,  808. 
 
 ,,         Lutheran  :  532. 
 
 ,,         National,  A  :  806-819  :  Principle  of  508, 
 
 509,  510,  511  ;  Defects  in  System  of  a  511,  512. 
 Church  :  Nestorian  :  see  Arminian. 
 
 ,,         New  :  see  Swedenborg. 
 
 ,,         of  Latter-Day  Saints:  657-682. 
 
 ,,         Presbyterian  :  see  Presbyterianism. 
 
 ,,         Reformed,  of  France  543,  544  ;  of  Nether- 
 lands 543. 
 Church  :  Russian  418-441  ;  Advancement  of  Learn- 
 ing in   438  :    Dissent   428  ;    Government  422  ; 
 
 Independence  430  ;  Ritual  429,433;  Revision 
 
 of  Ritual  436,  437. 
 Churches,  Nonconformist  :  see  their  names  ;   Self- 
 
 Government  among  530. 
 Civilization  :  Aztec  358,  359  :  Peruvian  371. 
 Class  Meetings  :  Methodist  591,  592. 
 Clement  of  Rome  :  473. 
 Clergy,   Heneficed  :  Intellectual  Deterioration  515, 
 
 516  ;  Position  512,  513. 
 Cologne  :  Congress  at  501,  502  ;  Election  of  Bishops 
 
 at  502. 
 Confucianism  :  76. 
 Confucius  :  61-68  ;  Ancestrj'  61,  62  ;  as   Minister 
 
 of  Crime  64  ;    Death  65  :    Estimate  of  Himself 
 
 64,  65  ;  Eulogy  on  68  ;  Teaching  i66. 
 Congress:  at  Cologne 501,  502;  at  Munich  501. 
 Conscience  :  Liberty  of,  in  France  6S7. 
 Constantine  :  Teachings  of  525. 
 Cosmogony:  Buddhist  176,  177;  Chaldean  38,  39; 
 
 Dante's  489,  490  ;  Teutonic  280,  281. 
 "Council  of  Zion,"  The  :  597. 
 Crisp,  Stephen  :  578. 
 Customs  :  Heathen,  Survival  in  England  253,  254. 
 
 ,,  and  Superstitions  :  Slavonic  268. 
 
 C>'prian,  St.  :  as  Kletropolitan,  427,  472. 
 Cyril,  St.  :  422,  471,  473  ;  Catechism  of  472  ;  made 
 
 Metropolitan  of  Kiev  426.  j 
 Cyrus,  the  Deliverer  :  23. 
 
 Damayanti's  Choice  :  130,  131,  132-135, 
 
 Daniel  of  Galitch  :  425,  426. 
 
 Dante :  Creed  492-495  ;  Divine  Covtcdy  496 ; 
 Love  484,  485  ;  Religious  Influence  4S4  ;  Teach- 
 ing 495  ;  Vision  486  ;  and  Beatrice :  Relations 
 between  486,  487  ;  and  Milton  :  Similitude  be- 
 tween 496. 
 
 Dns7ven  PAJshAhi:  310. 
 
 Delos  :  227,  228. 
 
 Dervish,  The :  324. 
 
 Deuteronomic  Torah  :  43. 
 
 Deuteronomy  :  Differences  from  Original  Historj' 
 
 44,  43- 
 Dhanttnafiada:  15S,  159. 
 Diabolical  Agencies  :  Belief  in  255. 
 Disestablishment :  see  Church  of  England. 
 Drummond,  Henry  :  594,  595,  596. 
 Dualism  :  Introduction  of  17. 
 Duty  :  Japanese  Ideals  97. 
 Dwarfs:  Slavonic  273. 
 
 Eastern  Beliefs  and  Christianity  Contrasted :  94, 
 
 95- 
 Eastre,  the  Heathen  Goddess  :  252. 
 Edda,  the  Older  :  278. 
 
 ,,      tlm  Younger:  278. 
 Edict  of  Nantes  :  543,  544. 
 Egil,  the  Poet  :  2S9. 
 Egypt,  Ancient  :  Religion  3-9. 
 Elohist,  The  :  42,  43. 
 Elves  :  Slavonic  Belief  in  266. 
 Elysion  :  237. 
 
 Emancipation,  Catholic  :  527. 
 Emblems,  Parsi :   192. 
 
 Endowment  of  the  Church  ;  see  Church   of  Eng- 
 land. 
 England,  Church  of:  sec  Church  of  England. 
 English  Presbyterian  Church  :  54S. 
 Erastian  Theory  :  509. 
 
 Eridu,  City  of:  16. 
 
 Ethical  Movement  :  Defined  787-793:  Attitude  tow. 
 other  Movements  789,  790  ;  Demands  upon 
 its  Supporters  793  ;  Teachings  790-792. 
 
 Eucharist  :  454,  455,  456,  457,  462-482. 
 
 Evil  Principle:  Abstract  Qualities  171. 
 
 Evolution  :  Doctrines  769  ;  Characteristics  of  the 
 Theory  769;  Ethics  779-1783,  784-786;  Posi- 
 tion of  the  Theory  783  ;  Views  of  Future  Life 
 781  :  What  it  is  784. 
 
 Evangelicals,  The :  547. 
 
 Fables,    the    Framework    of   Greek    Theological 
 
 Systems:  216. 
 Faith :  662,  663. 
 
 Family  :  Life  of,  merged  into  Life  of  State  223. 
 Fane,  Teutonic,  in  Heligoland :  2S5,  286. 
 F'asting  :  Muhammadan  295.  ^ 
 
 Fate,  Mystery  of:  Buddhist  Doctrine  145,  146. 
 Festivals  :  Greek  227  ;  Israelite   59,  60  ;  Mexican 
 
 366. 
 Fire  Worshippers :  192. 
 Flaubert :  789. 
 
 Formularies,  Church:  Revision  of  518. 
 Fo.\-,  George:  573-577,  579;  Mission  577;  Teach- 
 
 '"5577-580. 
 Free  Will :  449,  450,  451. 
 Freethought,  English  ;  520. 
 Future   Life :  Assyrian  View  37,   38  ;  Buddhistic 
 
 145,   146  ;  Chinese   73,    74  ;  Evolutionist   781  ; 
 
 Hindu    120,    121  :    Independent   Church  556  ; 
 
 Japanese  100  ;    Slavonic  275  ;  Teutonic  286, 
 
 287. 
 
 Galanus  :  Forged  Documents  from  395. 
 
 Games,  Hellenic  :  Political  Influence  226,  227. 
 
 G  lit  has  :  180,  181. 
 
 German  Tlieology :  721. 
 
 Ghost,  Holy  :  667,  668. 
 
 Giants  :  Slavonic  272,  273. 
 
 Gifts  :  Spiritual  669,  670. 
 
 Goddesses  :  Assyrian  33,  34  :  German  252. 
 
 Godhead,  The  :  659,  660. 
 
 Gods  :  Assyrian  28,  34,  35,  36  ;   Egj-ptian  5-9,  10 : 
 
 Hindu  113, 118, 119  ;  Hittite  10, 12  ;  Shinto  no. 
 Greek  and  Latin  Religions  :  216-245. 
 
 „     Church:  405-418;  Doctrines  407-409,  41c- 
 
 416,  417,  41S  ;  Icons  in   417  ;  Priesthood  409  ; 
 
 Sacraments  416  ;    and  Armenian  384. 
 Groves,  Sacred  :  German  249  ;  Lithuarian  262. 
 
 Hades  :  239  ;  Assyrian  38  ;  Dante's  490,  491. 
 
 Happiness,  the  great  purpose  of  social  life  :  Sot. 
 
 Hea  :  29,  30,  31. 
 
 Heligoland  :  Teutonic  Fane  at  285,  2S6. 
 
 Hercules :  444. 
 
 Heresy  :  the  Paulician  394, 404,  524. 
 
 Heretics :  Persecution  402,  403  ;  Abolition  of 
 Burning  of  570. 
 
 Hermes  :  237,  239, 
 
 Hermits  :  Taoist  83. 
 
 Herzog,  Professor  :  503. 
 
 Hestia :  237. 
 
 Hexateuch  :  42,  43. 
 
 Hinduism:  Characteristics  112,  113,  114;  Constant 
 Changes  in  125;  Definition  112  ;  Doctrine  of 
 Liberation  120,  121  ;  of  Future  Punishment 
 123,  124  :  Elasticity  122  ;  Ethical  Bearings 
 123  ;  Inner  Meaning  113,  117,  iiS  ;  Main- 
 spring of  125;  Sects  122  ;  Spread  iiy;  Tran- 
 sition into  Brahmanism  120. 
 
 Historia  Danica  of  Saxo  :  278. 
 
 Historical  Protestantism  :  53i-5Si- 
 
 Historj-,  Philosophy  of:  Birth  of  560. 
 
 Hittite :  Religion  10-14. 
 
 Holy  Ghost :  667,  66S. 
 
 Humanity  ;  739-751  ;  Enthusiasm  of  61S,  619  ; 
 Kingdom  of  744,  745  ;  Reality  of  746-748  ; 
 Religion  of  (meaning  oQ  740. 
 
 Huseyn  ibn  Mansur :  Martyrdom  319. 
 
 Hypereia  :  238. 
 
 Icons,  Use  of,  in  Greek  Church  :  417. 
 Ideal  Faith :  New   Birth  of  726  ;  of  the   France 
 of  the  i8th  century  727. 
 
822 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Ideal,  'I'he  Taoist  :  83,  84. 
 
 Ideals  of  Duty  :  Japanese  97. 
 
 Idols  in  Israel  :  57. 
 
 Imaginatiom  :  Province  of  803. 
 
 Jmamate  :  Doctrine  of  the  333,  334. 
 
 Imams,  The:  334. 
 
 Impermanence  :  Buddhist  Doctrine  142,  143,  156. 
 
 Incas  :  Origin  of  Name  336  ;  Rule  373. 
 
 Independency:  552-558.:  Characteristics  553,  554  ; 
 Dogmas  555,  556,  557  ;  Merits  556. 
 
 India,  Ancient  :  Position  of  Women  in  132;  Life 
 in,  in  time  of  Buddha  162. 
 
 Indian  Poetry,  Old:  126-141  ;  Characteristics 
 130 ;  Demons  in  129  ;  Mysticism  in  129  ,  Sen- 
 timental Temper  135  ;  Source  of  Inspiration 
 128. 
 
 Inscriptions  :  Assyrian  51  ;  Babylonian,  18  ;  Chal- 
 dean, 15  ;  Cuneiform  381  ;  Egyptian  52  ;  Hittite 
 II,  13  ;  of  Mesha  52. 
 
 Institutes  o/Chiistian  Religion  :  539. 
 
 Irish  Presbyterian  Church  :  550  ;  Prot.  Episc. 
 Church  Disestabl.  :  807,  80S. 
 
 Irving,  Edward  :  594,  595. 
 
 Irvingism  :  594-601  ;  Apostles  595,  596  ;  Character 
 599  ;  Doctrines  599  ;  Ritual  598  ;  System  596, 
 600. 
 
 Irvingites  :  Dispersion  597  ;  Separation  595. 
 
 Ise  :  Pilgrimages  to  107. 
 
 Ishtar's  Descent  into  Hades:  39-41. 
 
 Japan  :  People  93  :  Religions  92-98. 
 
 Jehovah  :  Conception  53,  54  ;  Dwelling  Place  54, 
 
 55  ;    Limited  Authority  52  ;    Origin  of  Name 
 
 II  ;  Priests  57,  58. 
 Jehovist,  The  :  42. 
 Jephthah  :  Story  of  45. 
 Jerusalem.  Establishment  of  21. 
 Jewish  Religion  :  42-60  :  Ethics  695-70S  ;  God  not 
 
 merely  Tribal  705  ;  Sources  42. 
 Jews  :  Importance  of  Creed  to  697  ;  ImprovedjEdu- 
 
 cation  684  :  Mission  692  ;  Moral  Teaching  698, 
 
 699,  702  ;  View  of  Almsgiving  699,  700  ;  View 
 
 of  Christianity  692  ;  In  Austria  684,  685,  687  ; 
 
 Britain  683,   691,    692  ;    (jermany  684  ;  Spain 
 
 685,  686. 
 John   the   Terrible  :  Council  Summoned   by   429  ; 
 
 Madness  430  ;  Speech  429. 
 Journalism,  Pari  :  lixtension  of  187. 
 Judaism  :  see  Jewish  Religion. 
 Judges,  Book  o/:  43  ;  Appendices  to  43,  46. 
 Jupiter  :  244. 
 
 Kaber,  the  Reformer  :  304. 
 
 Kami  no  Michi  :  94,  99,  102. 
 
 Kammurabi,  King:  21. 
 
 Kan  Ving  Pien  :  88-90. 
 
 Karaites,  The  :  685. 
 
 Karma  :  649  ;  Doctrine  144,  145  ;  Meaning  175. 
 
 Kiev  :  Celebrations  at  418. 
 
 Kilhamitcs,  The:  587. 
 
 Kings  of  Israel :  Condemnation  of  48  ;  Table  of 
 
 ..  49.  50 
 A  Digs,  Hook  of:  Criticism  of  47-50. 
 Knox   John  :  544-546. 
 Krishna:   115,  116,  117,  303. 
 Kur-ratu'l-'Ayn  :  340,  341,  349. 
 Kwan-yin  :  Worship  of  178,  179. 
 
 Laou-tseu  :  Teaching  of  166. 
 
 I. ares  :  245. 
 
 larvae  (spectres  of  dead)  :  245. 
 
 Last  Supper,  The  :  464. 
 
 l.atin  and  Greek  Religions  :   216-245. 
 
 Latter-Day   Saints ;    Church  of  658  ;  .Articles   of 
 
 Faith  658,  659. 
 Lay  Work  in  Church  of  England  :  515,  517. 
 Legends  :  Armenian,  conn,  with  Gregory  383,  384  ; 
 
 .Assyrian   38 ;  Babylonian  38 ;  connected  with 
 
 Buddha  153,  154,  158. 
 l.cmurs  :  245. 
 
 Liberty,  Religious  :  Doctrine  569. 
 Lich-tzu  :  Stories  of  86,  87. 
 Literature  ;  Armenian  386,  387  ;  Buddhist,  Diffu- 
 
 sion  of  7-;5.  174  ;  Prophetic  50. 
 
 Livings  :  Traffic  in  517,  51S. 
 
 Local  Church  Government  [Independency]:  552- 
 ^       55S. 
 
 Lotus  :  as  Emblem  of  Creation  176  ;  School,  Influ- 
 ence of  176. 
 Love  Feasts  :  Methodist  591,  592. 
 
 ,,     True  :  626,  627,  635. 
 Luther  and  Lutheran  Church  :  531,  532. 
 
 M ahnbhdrat :  126,  127,    130;  Antiquity  127;  Re- 
 ligious Sentiment  126  ;  Stories  from  130,  131, 
 132-535- 
 Malia  Aa7ya  CJiarita  :   173. 
 Man,  Universal  Brotherhood  of:  650-657. 
 !Manes  :  245. 
 Manetho  :  3 
 
 Mara  [Evil  Principle]  :  170. 
 Marriage  :  Muhanimadan. 296-298. 
 Mass,   The  :   454,   455,  456,  457,  462-482  :  Basis, 
 Tenour,   and  Hist.   462-473 ;   Dominant   Idea 
 481  ;    Liturgical    Form   467,    468,    469  ;    Phil- 
 osophy 473  ;  Sacrifice  at  470. 
 Mecca  :  Pilgrim.age  to  295. 
 Melville,  Andrew :  546. 
 Men,  Judged  by  their  Works  :  660,  661. 
 Mendelssohn,  Moses  :  683-684. 
 Methodism  :    585-593  ;    Characteristics  585,   586  ; 
 Class  Meetings  591,  592  ;  Doctrines  586,  587  ; 
 588,  589  ;   Increased   Liberality  of  588  ;  not  a 
 Church   591  :     Personal     Consecration     588  ; 
 Women  Preachers  587. 
 Methodius  :  422. 
 Mexico  :  Religion  of  359,  360. 
 IMilenniuni  :  594. 
 Minerv.i :  244. 
 
 Mirza'  'AH  Muhammad  :  Life  and  Teachings  334- 
 339i  343-346  ;  Efiforts  to  Spread  his  Faith  339- 
 341  ;  Fate  of  his  Followers  341,  342,  343,  345, 
 346,  347.  348,  349 ;  Religious  System  343,  344. 
 Mithra,  Bull  of:  200,  201  ;  Herodotus's  Statement 
 about    19S  ;   of  Two  Sexes   200  ;  and  Christ, 
 Parallel  between  210  ;  Mithra  a  Pagan  Christ 
 198. 
 Mithraic  Caves  :  203,  204  ;  Celebration  of  Christ- 
 mas Day  214  ;  Ceremonies  215  ;  Monuments  in 
 England   194,  195  ;   Mysteries   205,    206,   207, 
 208,  209,  210;  Symbolism  200,  202.   207,  210, 
 212,  213. 
 Mithraism  :   194-215  :  Assimilation  of,  by  Christi- 
 anity 209-211  :  History  196,   197;  Nature  of 
 System  197  ;  Universality  194,  195,  198. 
 Monasteries :    Establishment   in  Russia  424,    427, 
 
 429. 
 Morality:  Basis  of  801 ;  Utilitarian  800,  801,  802. 
 Mormonism  :  History  677-680  ;  Mess.ige  681,  682. 
 Mormon,  Book  of:  671-675. 
 Mormons,  The  :  657-682  ;  Origin  of   Name  657 
 
 Outcry  against  657. 
 "  Most  Holy  Governing  Synod  "  :  439. 
 .Mount  .Ararat  :  Legend  of  380. 
 Muhiyyu'd-Din  ibnu  'l-'Arabi :  320. 
 Muh.ammad  :  Character  298,  299  ;  Religious  Posi- 
 tion of  293. 
 Muhammadanism :  294-300  ;  Fasts  205 ;  Preachers' 
 Social  Equality  296;  Teaching  292  ;  and  Chris- 
 tianity 293,  300  ;  and  Judaism  293. 
 jVIulla  Huseyn  :  339. 
 
 Mysteries  :  Christian  210,  212,  213  ;  Hellenic  242  ; 
 Their  Influence  on  Christian  Church  242,  243  ; 
 Mithraic  205,  207,  208,  209,  210. 
 Mysticism:  631-639,  720. 
 
 Myths  :  .Assyrian  29,  30;  Buddhist  153, 154  ;  Chal- 
 dean 18  ;  Egyptian  5  ;  Hellenic  229,  230,  231  ; 
 Mexican  360  ;  .Satanic  257  ;  Teutonic  280. 
 Mythology  :  Absence  of,  in  Early  (jreek  Religion 
 225  ;  Chaldean  16,  17,  18  ;  Slavonic  260. 
 
 Nabomidus,  King  of  Babylon  :  22. 
 Names,  Heathen  :  Survival  in  England  253. 
 Nanak,  Guru  :  Life  304,  307-309  ;  Successors  309- 
 
 311  ;  Teachings  304,  305,  309. 
 National  Church,  .\  :  806-819. 
 Nature  :  External  Power  of  633. 
 Nazariti-s:  57,  58. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 823 
 
 Nestorian  Church  :  see  Armenian. 
 
 New  Church,  The  (Swedenborgian)  652,  656 ; 
 Doctrinal  Aspect  655,  656  ;  Philosophical  As- 
 pect 652-654;  Practical  Aspect  656;  Spiritual 
 Aspect  654. 
 
 Nicon,  the  Patriarch  :  434-437. 
 
 Nirvana  :  141,  146,  155,  163,  177. 
 
 "  Noble  Eightfold  Path  "  :   161,  162. 
 
 "  Noble  Path  "  :  Eight  Stages  of  146,  147. 
 
 Nonconformity,  English  :  520-530  ;  Benefits  we 
 owe  to  it  527,  528,  599  ;  Chief  Value  530 ; 
 Limits  530,  531  ;  Original  Source  522,  523. 
 
 Nymphs,  Water:  Slavonic  269-271. 
 
 Oannes  :  Legend  of  16,  17. 
 
 Oidipous  :  Story  of  236. 
 
 Old  Catholicism  :  498-507  ;  Doctrines  503,  506. 
 ,,  ,,  and  Church  of  England:  Sym- 
 
 pathy between  503,  504. 
 
 Old  Catholics  :  Sufferings  of  505  ;  Power  of  Clergy 
 506. 
 
 Old  Testament :  Tenderness  tow.  Animals  703,704. 
 
 Older  Kdda,  Tlic:  278. 
 
 Ordination  :  Effect  of  815. 
 
 Ostara,  Heathen  Goddess  :  252. 
 
 Othnicl :  44,  45. 
 
 Paganism  :  Influence  on  Christianity  246-259. 
 
 Panjab,  The,  a  Muhammadan  State  :  302,  303. 
 
 Pantheism  :  121,  125  ;  Mainspring  of  Hinduism  125. 
 
 Pantheon  :  Assyrian  27  ;  Babylonian  27. 
 
 Paracelsus  :  641. 
 
 Paradise,  Western  :  Buddhist  belief  in  177,  178. 
 
 Parsism  :  184-193  ;  Doctrines  189-191  ;  Education 
 of  Children  187  ;  Emblems  192  ;  Emigration  to 
 India  184  ;  Intellectual  Progress  185  ;  Position 
 of  Women  188. 
 
 Patriarchy,  The  Armenian  :  388. 
 
 Paul,  St.  :  Teachings  of  523,  524. 
 
 Penn,  William  579. 
 
 Penitential  Exercises:  Buddha's  Estimate  137. 
 
 Pcrkunas  :  261,  262. 
 
 Peru  :  Civilization  371  ;  Decay  of  Native  Religion 
 368  ;  Kings  or  Incas  of  368  ;  Pantheon  368  ; 
 Present  State  371  ;  Sultee  370. 
 
 Peter  the  Great :  438. 
 
 Peters,  Hugh  :  571,  572. 
 
 Pillars,  Holy:   56. 
 
 Pisuna  [Evil  Principle):  170. 
 
 Pitakas  ;  Buddhist  157. 
 
 Planes,  the  Seven  Kosmic  :  643-647. 
 
 Planetary  Gods  of  .\ssyria,  36. 
 
 Plato  and  Buddha  :  Agreement  between  175. 
 
 Poles.  Holy  :  56. 
 
 Polydaemonism  :  4. 
 
 Pope,  Infallibility  499,  500;  Protest  against  500. 
 
 Positivism,  740;  Creed  745;  Philosophy  742-745; 
 Scheme  739. 
 
 Prayer  :  478  ;  Efficacy  (Secularist  View)  796-798  ; 
 Intercessory  476,  477  :  Shinto  Forms  105. 
 
 Preachers:  Muhammadan  294. 
 
 Presbyterianism  :  Distinctive  Points  539-541  ;  His- 
 torical 531-551  :  History  533-551  ;  Mission  551. 
 
 Priesthood  :  American  550  ;  English  548  ;  Irish  550. 
 ,,  Mexican  362,  364,  365,  366. 
 
 ,,  Russian  Schools  for  Training  423,  424. 
 
 ,,  Teutonic  284. 
 
 Principle,  Evil  :  Abstract  Qualities  171. 
 
 Prometheus  :  233-235,  281. 
 
 Protestantism  :  Early  Days  565. 
 
 Punishment  and  Reward  :  Buddhist  Doctrine  175, 
 176  ;  Chinese  74. 
 
 Puritanism  :  565. 
 
 Quakerism :    Doctrines   577,    579,    580,    581,    582  ; 
 
 Characteristics  5S3  ;  Reformation  575-5S4. 
 Quetzalcoatl :  Myth  of  365. 
 
 Ra  :  aS. 
 
 Race,  Human  :  Eternity  74S  ;  Solidarity  144,  145 
 Radgost  :  262. 
 
 Rahanumai  Mazdiashna  :  187,  iS3. 
 Rajah  Viovamitra  :    Story  of  137-140  ;    Vayati  : 
 story  of  140,  141. 
 
 Ravidyan  :   126,  127,   130  :  Antiquity   127  :  Reli- 
 gious Sentiment  in  126. 
 
 Rameses  II.  :  Treaty  with  10,  11. 
 
 Rana  :  115,  116. 
 
 Reason  :  Function  of  803. 
 
 Reformation,  English  :  443,  526. 
 
 Re-incarnation  :  Cleaning  of  647-649. 
 
 Reinkens,  Bishop  :  502. 
 
 Relics:  Worship  of,  in  China  171. 
 
 Religion  :  Definition  218,   474  ;    Final   Aim   695  : 
 Highest  Form  of  Education  807  ;  Meaning  of 
 477,  741  ;  Truth  in  all  Religions  636,  637. 
 ,,     of  Dante  :  483-497; 
 ,,     ,,  Nature  [Rousseau] :  724-738  : 
 ,,     ,,  the  F'liture  :  806. 
 
 Renaissance,  The  :  563. 
 
 Repentance  :  663,  664. 
 
 Revelation  :  675-677. 
 
 ,,  Christ's  :  Catholic  View  of  447. 
 
 Reward  and  Punishment  :  Buddhist  Doctrine  175, 
 176  ;  Chinese  74  :  Teutonic  287. 
 
 Righteousness  :  Motives  to  801. 
 
 Rites,  Religious  :  Generally  202  ;  Value  of  695  : 
 American  385,  386  :  Assyrian  37  ;  Chaldean  25  : 
 Chinese  68,  71,  72,  74,  75  ;  Jewish  59  :  Mexi- 
 can 360  362,  363,  367  ;  Jklithraic  215  ;  Muham- 
 madan 294  ;  Peruvian  369-371  :  Shinto  96,  104, 
 105  ;  Slavonic  273  ;  Teutonic  284  ;  Toltec  367. 
 
 Robe,  Seamless  :  of  Christ  211,  212  ;  of  Osiris  211, 
 212. 
 
 Roman  Catholic  :  see  Catholic. 
 
 Romanoff :  Accession  of  House  of  431. 
 
 Rousseau,  J.  J.  :  On  Education  737  :  Discourses 
 731-733  ;  Entile  732  ;  Philosophy  736  :  Place 
 \\\  Spiritual  Revol.  of  18  Cent.  72S,  729  ; 
 Politics  737  ;  Source  of  his  Power  729  ;  Teach- 
 ings 7337737,  738. 
 
 R  tthanumai :  192. 
 
 Russia :  Attacked  by  Swedes  425  :  Napoleonic 
 Invasion  439  ;  Tartar  Invasion  425. 
 
 Russian  Church  :  see  Church,  Russian. 
 
 RyObu-Shinto  :  99,  102,  103, 
 
 Sacramental  Presence  :  482. 
 
 Sacraments :  Catholic  453-455,  456,  457  ;  Metho- 
 dist 586. 
 
 Sacred  Animals :  4. 
 
 Sacrifice  at  Catholic  Mass  :  470. 
 ,,         to  Jehovah  59. 
 
 Salvationism  :  590. 
 
 Samson  :  45,  46. 
 
 Samuel,  Books  of:  46,  47. 
 
 Sankar.acharya,  the  Reformer :  302,  303. 
 
 Sankhya:  Philosophy  122. 
 
 Saturnus :  245. 
 
 Saxo  Grammaticus  :  27S. 
 
 Scheria  :  238. 
 
 Schools  :  Chaldean  18,  ig ;  Parsi  Establishment  of 
 Girls'  Schools  189  :  Russian  433,  434. 
 
 Scotland  :  Disestablishment  in  708. 
 
 Scriptures:  Brahmanic  114;  Buddhist  157. 
 
 Seasons  :  Personification  of  267. 
 
 Secularism  :  794-S05 ;  Definition  795,  796  ;  Nega- 
 tive Side  804  ;  Philosophy  of  S04  ;  Practical 
 Work  804,  S05  :  Views  on  Morals  799,  803  ; 
 on  Immortality  79S,  799. 
 
 Separatism  :  565,  566,  571. 
 
 Seraphim,  The  :  54. 
 
 Sergius,  St.,  Russian  Hermit :  427. 
 
 Shamas,  the  Sun-god  :  32. 
 
 Shinto;  94;  Gods  no;  Origin  of  Name  99: 
 Shrines  and  Buddhist  Temples  105,  106,  108, 
 109  ;  Tenets  109,  no  :  True  Elements  100. 
 
 Shintoism  :  99-111  ;  Emblems  105,  106;  History 
 102,  103  ;  System  of  100. 
 
 Sikhism  :  301-313  ;  Antiquity  302  ;  .-Assemblies 
 310;  Attempt  to  Revive  313;  Effect  of,  in 
 India  302  ;  Historj'  307,  311  :  Initiation  into 
 311,  312;  Ordinances  312;  Philosoph.  Basis 
 304-307,  3.12. 
 
 Sin  :  Idea  of,  m  Israel  do. 
 ,,     the  God  32. 
 
 Sippara,  City  of  :  20. 
 
824 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Siva :  115,  1J7. 
 
 Skeptic,  A :  752, 
 
 Skepticism  :  Definition  755,  765,  766  ;  Effects  of 
 Diffusion  764 ;  Prejudice  against  754 ;  the 
 Protestantism  of  Philosophy  763  ;  Religious 
 Aspects  752-767  ;  Greek  753 ;  Relation  to 
 Christianity  761-763  ;  to  General  Religion 
 760,  761  ;  to  Protestantism  763. 
 
 Slavonic  Religion  :  260-277. 
 
 Slavs  :  Characteristics  419  ;  Conversion  to  Christ- 
 ianity 275. 
 
 Smith,  Joseph,  the  Prophet :  659,  677. 
 
 Society  of  Friends  :  see  Quakers. 
 
 Solomon  :  Temple  of  19. 
 
 Sons   Wreck.  Tlie  :  289-291. 
 
 Sorrow  ;  Power  of  635,  636. 
 
 Souls:  Positivist  Belief  in  749-751. 
 
 Spinoza :  709-723  ;  Contributions  to  Scriptural 
 Criticism  714-716 ;  Excommunication  710; 
 Introduction  of  Writings  into  England  722; 
 Love  of  Truth,  723  ;  Personal  Character  713, 
 714  ;  Philosophy  716-721. 
 
 Stones  :  Holy  55. 
 
 Siory  o/Thrytn  :  281-283. 
 
 Sa  Shu  :  87,  SB. 
 
 Sufi  :  Meaning  of  the  Word  314,  315. 
 
 Sufiism  :  314-332  ;  Definition  318  ;  History  315  ; 
 Idealistic  Pantheism  327  Mysticism  314,  317  ; 
 Sources  318;  System  316,  317  ;  Teachings  317, 
 318,  326-332  ;  Toleration  324. 
 
 Supernaturalism,  Christian  :  Scientific  Explanation 
 of  211. 
 
 Supper,  Last,  The  :  464. 
 
 S/ttra  o/Forty-Huo  Paragyaphs  :  16S.  169. 
 
 Sutta  :  on  Booko/tlie  Great  Decease  160  ;  on  Foun- 
 dation 0/ the  Kingdom  of  Righteousness  160- 
 162  ;  on  Kiwwlcdge  o/the  Vedas   160,  162. 
 
 Sutta  Pitaka:  158  ;  Tevigga  136. 
 
 Suttee  :  Custom  in  Peru  370. 
 
 Svantovit,  The  Idol :  264  ;  Ceremonies  265 ;  De- 
 struction 265,  266. 
 
 Swedenborg  and  Swedenborgianism :  sec  New 
 Church. 
 
 Symbols,  Religious  :  Christian  209  ;  in  Cathedrals 
 256,  257  ;  Hittite  12,  13,  29,  30  ;  Mexican  and 
 Roman  Conn.  betw.  360,  361  ;  Mithraic  200- 
 202,  207,  210,  212,  213;  Tree  and  Serpent 
 Worship  240-542. 
 
 Synagogue  and  Church  :  Difference  in  693. 
 
 System  of  Worlds  :  Buddhist  177. 
 
 Talmud:  25. 
 
 Tao,  Identical  with  Nature  :  77,  78. 
 
 Taoism  :  76-91,  166    Teachings  81,  82,  83,  84,  85. 
 
 Taoist  Hermits  83  ;  Ideal  83,  84  ;  System  80. 
 
 Tartars  :  Mon<.  of  Russia  425  ;  End  of  Power  in 
 
 Russia  428. 
 Temples  :  Teutonic  284,  285. 
 Ten-shoko-daijin  :  107. 
 Ten  Talents  0/ Quakerism  :  580. 
 Teutonic   Heathendom   278-291  ;   Ethical  System 
 
 288. 
 Tevigga  Sutta :  136. 
 Theism,  Christian  :  620-630  ;  Beliefs  of  620,  621, 
 
 623-626,   629,   630  ;    Consequences  of  Beliefs 
 
 628  ;   Meaning   of    Term  621,   622  ;    Mental 
 
 Attitude  622,  623. 
 ,,     Hebrew  628. 
 Theosophy  :  640-651  ;  Teachings  642,  643  ;  What  it 
 
 claims  to  be  641  ;  What  it  is  642. 
 Thirty-Nine  Articles,  The  :  518. 
 'I'hor  :  250. 
 Thought,  Freedom  of:  759,  760. 
 
 / 
 
 31 
 
 Tiw :  250. 
 
 Toleration,  Act  of:  527. 
 
 Toltecs  :  358,  364,  367  :  Sacrificial  Rites  367. 
 
 Totemism  in  Israel :  57,  58  :  Teutonic  287. 
 
 Trees :  Holy  55. 
 
 Triad,    .Assyrian  :   the   first   29  ;    the  second 
 
 Hindu  115,  iig. 
 Trinity  :  Doctrine  of  452. 
 Truth  :  Objective  Conditions  755-757  ;  Subjective 
 
 Conditions  757,  75S. 
 Tyndall,  William  :  564,  565. 
 
 Uniates,  Church  of:  431. 
 
 Uniformity,  Act  of:  Passing   549,   550,  605,  606; 
 
 Repeal  817. 
 Unitarian  Association,  British  and  Foreign  :  607. 
 Unitarianism  :   602-619  J  -■Absence   of  Creed   605- 
 
 60S  ;    First  Principle  607  ;    Free  Membership 
 
 in  Churches  606,  608  ;   111  Repute  602,  603  ; 
 
 Independence   604,   605  ;    True    Place    618 ; 
 
 Views  generally  held  618. 
 Unity  :  Doctrine  of  the  304,  305. 
 Upsala  :  Teutonic  Temple  at  284,  28s. 
 Ur:CityofiS. 
 
 Veddiiia :  302  ;  Doctrine  305. 
 
 Valmiki  :  Inspiration  of  135,  136. 
 
 I'amiidad :  193. 
 
 Vatican  Decrees  :  Effect  of  507. 
 
 Vedas:  114,  115,  171,  180;  Hymns,  181. 
 
 Vesta :  237. 
 
 I'inaya  Pitaka  :  158. 
 
 Vishnu  :  115,  116. 
 
 Vladimir,  Grand  Duke  of  Kiev  :  421,  422. 
 
 Vul :  33. 
 
 Wales  :  Disestablishment  in  708,  700. 
 
 Walhalla  :  287. 
 
 Water  Nymphs  :  Slavonic  269-271. 
 
 Wells  :  Holy  55. 
 
 Wesley,  John  :  5S5. 
 
 ,,         Susannah:  586,  587. 
 Westminster  Assembly  :  549. 
 Will,  Free  :  Doctrine  449,  450,  451. 
 Williams,   Roger  :  571. 
 Witchcraft :  Teutonic  287. 
 Witches'  Sabbath,  The  :  258. 
 Wodin  :  250,  251. 
 Women  :  Equality   in   Zoroastiian   Religion   188  ; 
 
 Position  in  Anc.  India  132  ;  Parsi  Reform  188. 
 Worship,   .\ncestor:   56,  58,   59,   71,  73,  99,    no; 
 
 Cjreek  220-224  :  Hindu  119  ;  Teutonic  279. 
 Worship  :  Chinese  Form  of  69,  70. 
 
 ,,        of  Animals  :  4. 
 
 „        of  the  Dead  :  4. 
 
 ,,         Mithraic  203,  204,  205. 
 
 „        Fire  192  ;  5loon  19  ;  Sun  12,  20  ;  Tree 
 
 and  Serpent  240. 
 
 Varoslav  of  Novgorod  :  425,  426. 
 Younger,  Edda :  278. 
 
 Zanj.ln,  Siege  of  :  342,  343,  346. 
 
 Zarnn-T.1j  :  340,  341,  349. 
 
 Zarthusht  :  Teaching  192,  193. 
 
 Zend  A7icsta  :  see  Avesta. 
 
 Zeus  :  231,  232. 
 
 Zoraster  :  Dale  184  ;  Doctrines  169,  170  ;  Indi- 
 viduality 180;  Place  of,  as  Teacher:  180; 
 Purity  of  Worship  181. 
 
 Zoroaster  and  Buddha  :  Parallel  between  169,  170. 
 
 Zoroastrianism :  180-183  ;  Different  Religions  iucl. 
 in  180. 
 
 Zwingli,  Ulrich  :  533-535;  Three  Propositions  of 
 334.  33S. 
 
 Butler  &  Tanner,  The  Selwood  Printing  Works,  Frome,  and  London.