LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 'K 841 ©Imp ©qnjrirffi fo Sh.elf.H.3.3 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. m W istie-w IBOOIKIS- Fall of 1881. MAN'S ORIGIN AND DESTINY. Sketched from the Platform of the Physical Sciences. By Prof. J. P. Les- ley, Secretary American Philosophical Society, etc. New and Enlarged Edition. 8vo. Cloth. $2.00. ECCE SPIRITUS. i2mo. Cloth. $1.25. A STUDY OF THE PENTATEUCH. By Rufus P. Stebbins, D.D. i2mo. Cloth. $1.25. THE WAY OF LIFE. By George S. Merriam. i6mo. Cloth. $1.00. A YEAR OF MIRACLE. A Poem in Four Sermons. By William C. Gannett. Square i8mo. Fiexible cloth, 50 cents. Extra, bevelled edges, full gilt, §1.00. TENDER AND TRUE. Poems of Love. Selected by the Editor of " Quiet Hours," etc. i8mo. Cloth, #1.00; extra, full gilt, $1.50; half calf, $2.50; full calf or morocco, #3.50. GEO. H ELLIS, Publisher, 14.1 Franklin St., Boston. ECCE SPIRITUS. A STATEMENT OF THE SPIRITUAL PRINCIPLE OF JESUS AS THE LAW OF LIFE. " Howbeit y when he, the Spirit of Truths is come, he will guide you unto all truth." THE LIBRARY Or CONGRESS WASHINGTON 7 BOSTON: George H'. Ellis, 141 Franklin Street. 1881. Copyright, 1881, By Georgb H. Ellis. Dear Spirit, if within thy sunny heart A memory lives of this which is so fraught With thee, since once we shared it, thou hast part In such fulfilment as this day has brought. Yet what sweet hope was in the work we wrought Of word of thine, beyond the world's dispraise, To crown it worthy ! And what bitter thought Now it falls silent in the empty ways ! And yet could aught without some virtue be That once was thine, and still so speaks of thee ? CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. The Negative Work and Positive Want of the Nineteenth Century, i II. Sources of Christian Authority, 17 III. Natural or Supernatural, 34 IV. Christian Power, 49 V. Spirituality, 63 VI. Nature and Spirit, 84 VII. God or Christ, 99 VIII. Doctrine vs. Personal Endowment, 114 IX. Selfhood of Jesus, 130 X. The Personal Element, 144 XI. Life, 154 XII. Immortal Life, 175 XIII. Immortal Life {Continued), 193 XIV. Symbolism of the Cross, 210 XV. The Faith of the Future, 224 CHAPTER I. THE NEGATIVE WORK AND POSITIVE WANT OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. To one who watches the revolutions of religious thought, without any faith in human progress or abil- ity to see beneath the shifting surface an underlying principle ever tending toward harmony and positive- ness of result, there must be much of discourage- ment. It has been the sad duty of modern times not to inaugurate, — for the tendency has long been latent, — but to carry out to full effect the battle against time -honored comforts and sacred associations, a duty from the sadness of which no one has been able wholly to escape. Those who would not fight must perforce witness the battle, and share, if only inciden- tally, in its sorrow. Even to stand aloof in such age is to be disturbed and unsettled by the din of intellectual warfare, and choked and blinded with the smoke of controversy; while so-called liberalism, beyond its own inner struggle and loss, has suffered under the added necessity of bringing pain to others. The age shows two marked characteristics, not peculiar to itself, but emphasized as they never were before : the unflinching honesty which does not hesi- tate to test traditional faith by the facts of science 2 JEJcce Spiritus. and the highest reason ; and the radical unrest, the un- satisfied craving, the uneasy consciousness of spiritual need which go with it. The age is in that undesira- ble, that intermediate condition, where the things of childhood are no longer tolerated, while the things of manhood have not yet fully come. But herein there is one certainty: fidelity to the facts, absolute honesty, are here ; and they are here to stay. Whatever else men would have, they will have no denial of the cer- tainties of nature and that reason which is from God. Christianity has been particularly unfortunate in the influences to which it has been subjected at the hands of its successive adherents. If it were not something definite and unmistakable of itself, it must necessarily become an ever-varying quantity accord- ing to the shading it would receive in different states of society and stages of culture. That it was such has been the assertion of its representatives, and yet its history is the record of continual growth and change. It has been affected by the course of civiliza- tion, but cannot claim more of cause than effect in the general modification of race tendencies. The tide of a new life of intellectual, social, and material power had already set in before Christianity had entered upon its best development, and helped to lift it yet higher. It could not have come to anything like ful- ness of j^ower, even externally, except in an age of general awakening to and aptitude for light. But it was inevitable here, as in its earliest inception, that its acceptance should take on a very positive form. There was nothing of the philosopher's position in the Work and Want of the Nineteenth Century. 3 attitude of the primitive Christians. With Grecian many-sidedness of intellectual vision, they did not fail to see anything of special sacredness in the breadth and comprehensiveness of their outlook ; but, with a certain narrowness that verged to the other extreme, they dogmatized the statements of Jesus into a rig- idity and positiveness that they would not bear. The new church was new only in name, form, and intensity. The power, authority, was old, even before Abraham was. Hence, infinite harm to the movement, in an assertiveness which went far be- yond any sanction given it by the Master, — a barm which is seen more clearly with every year of its developing life. From this came the utter deadness of the Middle Ages, and that immorality which tran- scended ail the recorded wickedness of men in the hypocritical sanctity that characterized it. Then, the first blow was struck against traditional Chris- tianity, in its claim of authority and salvation in and of itself to the disregard of all living and higher necessities. The first protest against false assump- tion and perversion came not from without, but from within. It was not unevangelical free thought, but the resuscitated spirit of Jesus within the lines of recognized communion, which first revolted from traditional Christianity. The negative work began in the Church; and the Church, not science, has to bear the responsibility for that movement of emanci- pation by which it has itself been constantly weak- ened. The faithlessness and unspirituality of our day lie at the door of council and priesthood. The 4 Ecce Spiritus. holy function, the divine principle, have been mixed with falsity and overstatement so long that an at- titude of doubt — nay, worse, of indifference — has been bred both within and outside of the Church. Christianity has claimed both too much and not enough. It has omitted to see the facts as they are, and to harmonize itself therewith ; and it has monstrously overestimated the prerogative delegated by Jesus to the Church. Hence came the spirit out of the loins of Christianity itself, which has been silently, but surely, undermining its power. Science and its attendant material prosperity have helped this on ; but the real j>rotest has come from the religious nature of man, from the reason unsatisfied, the spirit- ual need unmet, the integrity of mind and heart be- trayed and duped on every hand. The influence of the scientific tendency has been far overrated in this connection. The spirit of inves- tigation and mental activity cannot be hostile to the reception of any genuine comfort and assurance which is craved by the nature of man. It becomes one of the friends of that most truly religious attitude which would be satisfied, not falsely supported and momenta- rily quieted, in its longing for the highest. The spir- itual life of the world can have suffered nothing at the hands of an age of keen and not easily satisfied pursuit of truth. Science with religion struck at the false and superstitious, readily echoing and carrying out the progressive protests of a Luther, a Wesley, a Fox, and a Channing ; but the negative work of the nineteenth century is the immediate product of the Work and Want of the Nineteenth Century. 5 cloister and a reactionary congregation. It is inci- dentally the result of general forces working in our life; but, primarily, the dogmas have been relin- quished, because the religious nature has found them groundless and not calculated to satisfy. History and science show that there can be nothing lost of forces working honestly and consistently, that they can but make for order, wholeness, and positive- ness of result. There can be no really destructive work on the part of science. It is everywhere posi- tive, on the side of the facts, everywhere the lover of truth. It is the Church that has to deal with the problem of an apathy and faithlessness which is born of the deepest religious consciousness. Science has helped the emphasis laid by the soul upon the unsatis- factory position of the Church. It has thrown into stronger light the necessity for fact, and all harmony, with fact, as a sufficient basis for spiritual assurance. But it is the religious consciousness, the inward and eternal needs of the soul, that the Church has to rec- ognize and meet, not science. If it subdues again to its lost allegiance the whole rounded nature of man, it has nothing to fear from the universe. The of- fended deity of fact and reason it is to placate is in the mind, and not in any revelation of matter. It has taken the soul of man, honestly hungry after truth, into a sphere of assumption and makeshift reality which it has not suffered man to gauge at its worth, but has insisted upon with dogmatic finality as sacred and certain. The reaction which came was, as might have been expected, revolutionary and 6 Ecce Spiritus. sweeping, having to do not only with the credal state- ments, but with the entire attitude and spirit of the Church as well. As was but too natural, the denial did not stop with doctrine, but touched the Church whose existence was bound up with it, nay, even relig- ion itself. And the destructive work was not seen alone in the constantly increasing ranks of those who put themselves entirely outside the sphere of religious things, but equally in that painful doubt and indifference on the part of those who outwardly profess and further its cause. The keenest thrust under which traditional Christianity writhes is the toleration and temporizing among its own adhe- rents. The doubt and questioning, the want of rest and satisfaction, which drove the free thinker out of church fellowshij^, did not go out with him; they still remain emasculating the meaningless iteration of faiths and formulas which pass the lips, but find no intel- ligent response from within. The saddest thing, about the Church in our day is the excuses that are openly made for its existence. Socially, morally, even financially, it is admitted to be a public neces- sity ; for no one would think of locating in a town unprovided with churches, no matter what his indi- vidual convictions might be. Then, since in the minds of even its members, disheartened in the effort to reconcile present want with wornrout opportunity, the Church is no longer what it pretends to be, a saving and special sanctity, the aisles are filled with mildly incredulous or disrespectfully doubtful or wearily indifferent faces. The many who to-day Work and Want of the Nineteenth Century. 7 attend its services and tolerate its creeds do not con- stitute the strength, but the real weakness of evan- gelical Christianity. There are only the elements of decay in such half-way adherence. The Church has grown tentative in its efforts after divine verity. A trembling hesitancy, a half-apologetic honesty, mingles with the utterances of positive statement. The very tone of the verbal response, and the frank confessions of the street, rob the service of its in- tended efficacy, and indeed tend to surround the whole subject of churchly worship with an air of insincerity. Let us not exaggerate here. There are still many who consistently hold to the old beliefs; but the churches are by no means filled with such, nor is the drift even of church life toward, but rather away from, greater strictness of accord between thought and worship. But the age, its spirit and truest life, is not wholly represented in the churches. Statistics everywhere confirm the impression of a vast falling- off in all outward recognition of religion. The real thought of the age is not uttered in pulpit avowals which find more or less of a response from the pews. The word " negation " does not adequately express the attitude of the time. Complacent toleration, which is only a more fatal form of the same disorder, and utter indifference, are the still more dishearten- ing phases of our life with which the restatement of spiritual consciousness has to contend. And the sad- ness of this position does not lie in the fact that men do not want to know, but, beyond this, in the fact 8 JEcce Spiritus. that, baffled and bewildered alike by the tone of relig- ious history and the confusion and unsatisfactoriness of present opportunity, they have been thrown back on the one resource of careless indifference. They have watched the long trial and evident failure of dogmatic religion, and have declared in all practical ways that dogma is no longer what men want. But they are hungry for life. An insatiable craving for insight and assurance is the accompaniment, many voices to the contrary notwithstanding, of great intel- lectual activity and wide achievement in every other sphere. The increase of material comfort only em- phasizes the need of inward experience. The under- standing of nature intensifies in just the ratio of its completeness the longing for higher and more endur- ing knowledge. This is the final and sure result, how- ever untrue it may be of the first stage of awakening to a wonderland of fact and certainty just at hand. In the dead ages there has been equal deadness of intel- lectual and spiritual life. Science and spirituality have in general risen and slumbered together, the former stimulating the latter none the less because it has introduced new and higher standards and made the acceptance of faith far more difficult. It has never seriously affected the spiritual impulse, even while insisting that its premises and conclusions were false to the facts. In the pushing, practical, never-satisfied life of our day there is found no exception to this statement. Never did a deeper unrest pervade society, implying, as it does, ceaseless effort and longing to attain relig- Work and Want of the Nineteenth Century. 9 ious certainty. There is wide-spread want, the ache of hungering natures, in the negations, nay, in the utter lifelessness, of the time. Out of our wonderful material prosperity comes intensified longing, born of the bitter contrast between outer and inner establish- ment, and of a demand for that inward harmony which is now all that is needed to complete the comfort which becomes the more imperious as a con- sideration amid circumstances of external fulness and beauty. With a world subject to our use, a longer average and more healthful record of life, has yet come no proportionate advance in soul assurance. The fall to the inevitable state of human trouble is all the more sudden and unbearable, and the re- covery, the reaction, which can alone come from forces within, is all the more appalling in its diffi- culty, amid surroundings of ease and plenty. The negation is itself largely negative. It is not so much assertive as sad. It sees no added hope nor joy, and, painfully conscious of the difficulties arrayed against it though it be, confesses by its very activity the presence of a something yet seeking satisfaction. Its incredulousness must not be mistaken for unwill- ingness to be enlightened and enlivened. Supernat- uralism has failed to satisfy, and is moreover opposed to the entire spirit of the age. If anything else were possible in its place, not so opposed, and as truly reliable as it is consoling, it would eagerly accept it. But, in the lack of hint or hope of such a consumma- tion, it settles back, sad and unexpectant, yet proudly unwilling to complain of the common lot. 10 Ecce Spiritus. For the comfort of such, a mental position, it may be said that there is all history to prove that this state of things cannot be more than temporary and transi- tional. There is a negative stage in human progress; but in nature, as in life, there is no negation. The race cannot stop here, nor indeed anywhere. "We see a time of movement, but not of disintegration. Law and precedent have not been for a moment set aside. The unmistakable drift of life, seen here as every- where else, forbids the assumption that this is all. If indeed it were, we should still say that the destruc- tive work, so far as it had reference to the facts, was right and good, at the same time that the spirit of it was false and fatal. "We can find no sympathy with iconoclasm which exists for its own sake ; while we must regard the pioneer work, which clears the ground for a better growth, as one of the most positive and beneficent factors in human life. There can be no school of the negations. Men cannot rally around nothing. To die for a fallacy or a superstition, as yet undisproved, has a certain logic, where to live for a moment in utter denial would be impossible. The positions of even materialism have been on the side of a more positive spirituality, so far as they have existed at all. They are often sad, but never, when honest, despicable. Even they have confessed that there is something in nature whereby they are vaguely im- pressed, as if, they cannot well see how, a God were back of all the 23henomena of change. Xow and then, the momentary detection of what seems to them the movement of a divine impulse in human history and Work and Want of the Nineteenth Century. 11 experience stirs them to a faint responsiveness. But, ere they are aware, the chain of evidence is inter- rupted by something chilling in themselves or from without, which does not so much call in question, as discover an inability to longer sustain so sublimated a flight. If it be true that the honesty of the facts is fixed as one of the conditions of our possible religious life, it is also true that the needs of our time are not gauged by any external standard. There is predic- tion of something satisfactory to come in the very imperiousness of that want which, while unwilling to ignore the testimony and bearing of matter, cannot be fulfilled therein. The question grows almost to painful suspense with the weight of the interests at stake, if, out of the negative work done, anything is left of possible and satisfactory religious life. The want looks as a necessity to that which is positive, the positiveness of which, however, must rest on a new and better basis. Everywhere, the need is acknowledged of comfort in trial, of fresh incentives in life, of an outlook more inspiring; and all to be not antagonistic to, but harmonized with, the existing law of things as revealed in the study of the universe as it is. It will not do for us to overlook this present neces- sity, which is here with a deep significance. Any want of satisfaction in a nature and time like ours is of itself portentous. The moment for an understand- ing of the subtle relationship there is between the negative work and the positive want, which alike 12 Ecce Spiritus. characterize our age, has come. At least there is a class of minds ready for the undertaking. Out of that deep expectancy of our time, — an expectancy found alike in philosophical and religious circles, — of a new era of spirituality, of a reaction which shall throw mankind higher than ever before upon the shore of certainty, comes indeed the necessity for this. Man can never return whither he has come. Any hope of a renewal of religious life must be based on the perception of this fact, and the necessity for a new departure in method and stand-point. A new set of elements have entered into the account. He is as- sured, beyond the possibility of any future question, of certain fundamental conditions which must for- ever incapacitate the old data for satisfying his reason. They have had thorough trial, and he is incredulous until the key-note of a widely different position is struck. He can go back to the heart, the reality of religion, but never to the assumptions of supernatu- ralism. Religion must square itself to a new rule in all his future acceptance. Man is not what he once was, and never can be again. The years of change and waiting under the influence of a new set of certainties have made over, not the real nature of the man, — for his needs and pos- sibilities spiritually are the same and indestructible, — but the mental constitution through which their satis- faction must come. Religion itself has met with no change, but man's capacity to receive it has been won- derfully affected. The possession is possible, as of old; but the approach has gained at the same time in Work and Want of the Nineteenth Century. 13 dignity and difficulty. Man's hunger for inward com- fort and peace is not denied in the facts of science and history, but the old condition of satisfied want in the sweat of the brow is emphasized anew in the realm of religion. And the immense gain in the pos- sibility of firmly rooted convictions, instead of readily accepted although utterly impersonal faiths, has be- come the reward of the patient struggle. So much is certain: that, with all our boasted knowl- edge and our apparent prosperity, we are not happy. The age that allows in book form such questions as "Is Life worth living?" which comes out of a vast truth of experience, whatever may be the immediate end to which it appeals, is not an age satisfied and at rest. There are hunger and heartache at the core of life, such as indeed have always been there, but felt to-day with a new-found intensity and meaning. The want is no fancied one, no sign of an intellectual lux- uriousness sated with triumphs in the sphere of sense, but real and deep and humble with the direst needs of life. It is a mistake to suppose that mankind has grown away from the religious verities. Its very lapse from the falsity and unreason has been a positive step in the direction of the reality. But the retracing of steps amid a mighty forest of bewildering growths most naturally leads to a confusion of ways and a sense of being lost. There comes a time, however, when even forest paths are turned into highways for the world. Of all the people who think at all upon religious matters, we might make three distinct classes : those 14 Ecce Spiritus. whose thought is traditional, whose minds are subject to certain modes of faith and feeling which obtain in the Church, as methods by which it impresses and holds its members; those who bring to bear upon religious problems nothing but purely rationalistic processes ; and those who stand between these two, the converts of neither, and yet indebted to each for a side to the completeness of their faith. Those of the first class ensconce themselves in a quiet corner of the Church, away from the din of the controversies which distract the age, but half -aware of, and in general indifferent to, the vast changes that have come here as elsewhere in the course of human development. The fact that others struggle and suffer, nay, even perish with despair, does not ruffle that mystical meditativeness and that satisfaction with artificial illumination which is only consistent with unwillingness to open one's windows to the light of day. With a mental constitution easily sat- isfied, a faith capacity naturally receptive and not too strongly dominated by the intellect, the nine- teenth century emphasizes in them no new needs. They are sometimes faintly stirred in their traditional security with the ripple of the stormy waves outside. Sometimes, they for a moment seem vaguely conscious of the bitter conflicts of the age, as they look in mild- eyed wonder at the phenomenon of a soul that is willing to be at peace, yet struggling with what to them seems a self-imposed necessity. The day is coming when even these will be shaken from their security, and will more than dream of the warfare of Work and Want of the Nineteenth Century. 15 elements outside ; but at present there is little to be said that could hope to reach them, and this word does not especially have them in view. Those of the second class, shutting out all the calm fixities of the foregoing, stand at the other extreme, where no acknowledgment is made of any authority outside of matter and the mentality that is coexten- sive with it ; and, since with the faculties brought into use no other result is possible, they profess them- selves satisfied with the critical processes by which what is left to the reason alone is elaborated into intellectual fineness and proportion. Seeing clearly the impossibility of traditional methods of faith, and deprecating all positiveness in religious matters, they rest content in the nice processes of rationalization. An unconquerable distrust of finalities grows into a dread of dogmatism. With some hope still left of processes, they have only faithlessness of results. These latter are not yet, if ever; and, in a world of change, to think, to generalize, to skirt the heavens in only modest peepings at Promethean fire, is all that is consistent with the best spirit of the age. Between these two there is a class, never wholly absent, but of late growing in number and impor- tance, who count themselves satisfied with neither of the above positions. They are rationalistic in method and in sympathy with every negative result that has been wrought by the study of the facts, and yet un- willing and unable to rest there. With no fear of science and all due respect for its wonderful work of revelation, they are conscious of something in 16 Ecce Spiritus. them more real in fact and more satisfactory in recog- nition, not yet accounted for. Whatever the failure of current Christianity to harmonize these two appar- ently antagonistic positions, they are not wholly with- out hope of a j)ossib]e meeting ground between faith and fact. As before said, this class is growing in number and importunateness of demand. Their po- sition is characteristic, in greater or less degree of acceptance, of a large proportion of earnest thinking people to-day all over the world. To these especially is the following word directed, in the hope that it may do at least something toward meeting the deep- est need of our time. CHAPTER n. SOURCES OF CHRISTIAN AUTHORITY. It is now understood that the essence of history, and especially that portion of it which has to do with the life and character of individual men, is that part of it which is least easily caught and made plain to others because of its independence of details. There is an illusive something in every personality which, while most readily felt, seems at best but to hover about the records of its life. It is there as the vital fact, and must be caught in at least some approx- imation, the degree of which latter will determine the truth and power of the transcription. We are grate- ful for the settings of experience, and all minor mat- ters of detail in their time and place ; but our real desire has to do not with the incidents and accidents, but with the man. Death or the distance of complex living have separated him from our loving regard, and we sigh for the nearer look of him who has made us hapjDier or better. It is the personal element that we miss, and which history sets itself about giving us. The very existence of historical attempt is a confes- sion of this object. It takes note of the fact that to know a man's works is not enough : they have only whetted our appetite to know him. Their highest 18 Ecce Spiritus. office was the creation in us of that human attitude, which can only be satisfied with one more added to the nearer circle of friends. Biography is, moreover, a confession of the fact that in some sort its subject is alive, and that itself is to be the living impression of it to others. It cannot, then, be content with anything short of that which is essential and personal, as far as this is possible, in its presentation of the man. And especially is this true if the history have to do with one who lives below the surface of after time, affecting mankind not as an executive power, but as a subtle personal influence in all that it is or does. There are names which have a race quality, the his- tory of which is bound up largely in the conscious- ness and current living of the nations. They have a vitality, a potency to-day; and the biography which reaches our need must not merely outline, but make them live. Thus, the real history of Jesus is found, not only in the Gospels, but in that sum total of all the influences which as inspirations from him have been, and still are, shaping the world's thought and life. But there is a view of the Gospels in which they are seen to have succeeded in their biographical intent far better than we commonly think. In the matter of incident and detail, they may be faulty and unsatisfactory, and indeed their scantiness in this direction gives little positiveness of form to the outward picture of the man ; but in some subtle way, difficult to acquire and almost equally difficult to describe, they have affected Sources of Christian Authority. 19 us with his personality, made clear to us the life that was in him, and, what is of yet more importance, given us a vivid impression of him as a still existent fact. They have answered the conditions of that higher history which has to do with, but is not wholly bounded by, the details. The crowning touch is seen in that motion and color which give life to the recital of dead facts. We rest our satisfaction in the Gospels, not in their fulness and literary finish, but in the man that seems to live and move in their graphic, though fragmentary, accounts. We think and care little about the books, being so stirred with this soul of the subject still speaking through them. Inasmuch as the literary element has subserved the living pur- pose, and in no wise stood in its way, we can but con- clude that the highest demands of history have been met in the Gospels. And no less, also, because they have not done too much, have not striven unduly to master the impres- sion for us. The Jesus we seek is there, but not too readily caught in the surface. He resides in and ani- mates the heart of the narrative, but only our best mood, our highest reach of intelligence, will find him. He will elude us, unless we are competent to read be- tween the lines. The gospel writers were not suffi- ciently skilled to more than construct the literary out- lines, from which the secret of Christian history will appear only when the keenly visioned and sympathetic mind approaches them. It must ever be that there is something central in every highly organized life, which does not easily re- 20 JScce Spiritus. veal itself; and this will be true just in proportion to the intensity of the experience. The literary crafts- man can but hope at best to catch its essential feat- ures between the lines of his faithful work. The most searching and comprehensive analysis appears but the body, which some latent sensibility fills out with the motions of vitality. The Gospels might have been fuller and more specific, but we doubt if we should in that way have known more of Jesus. As yet little has come — so it often seems — from the outward record, but superficialness and that low sub- serviency to the letter, which Jesus himself so emphat- ically rebukes. The evident need is not so much one of greater external fulness, as of finer insight and ability to get below the surface on the part of those who read. Enough is there, to him who approaches the narrative with this equipment, to more than out- line the man. Beyond the statement of what he is and thinks, and the exemplification of this with which he lived before men, there is still left a personal re- siduum which is far truer to the man, as well as much more effective as a mover of mankind. That the results of gospel interpretation have not been hitherto altogether satisfactory is not because of any essential fault in the narratives themselves, but because of the imperfect attitude on the part of the student and would-be follower. The Gospels have utterly failed, if below their verbal inaccuracies and contradictoriness of detail they have not given us something which corrects and harmonizes them into a living picture and impersonation, — in short, the reality Sources of Christian Authority. 21 of the Being of whom they treat. By this test we try them, convinced that their real exegesis is not textual, but intrinsic and spiritual. The last analysis of their collective statements is this : What character as a whole appears from the mass of incidents and accredited words, and is he, when so brought before us, a consistent, living, and efficient creation? Does he answer with the motions of vitality to the honest needs of mind and heart? Whatever may be the fault of the story, is the man clear and living, a pict- ure, nay, a person, not a dead fact? Does a heart with the currents of the life-blood in it come close to ours? Are our steps henceforth attended and our hands clasped in some nearness of spiritual compan- ionship ? The ages have with one voice answered this ques- tion, believers and unbelievers alike conceding that about the man there can be no shadow of doubt. In general, Jesus has never been far misunderstood. The character, personal superiority, and immense effective- ness of the man in the best thought and life of the world have gone unquestioned. Jesus has in great measure been spared the sufferings of so-called Chris- tianity at the hands of destructive criticism. Even the unsparing tests to which the literal claims of the Gospels themselves have been subjected have not touched the transcendent personality of the man, whom no false literalism and no perverted inference can hope to hold. Ecclesiastical assumption has been arraigned on every hand ; and the basis of Christianity, as it is seen to exist in its most authoritative utter- 22 JSJcce Spiritus. ances, has been declared a myth. But the most ultra radicalism has been linked with respect for the man, and at least some faint understanding of him. Indeed, Jesus is the only part of Christianity that has not been underrated nor outgrown. In the inter- ests of schemes and systems, his utterances have been a thousand times mutilated, the schools themselves, never stationary, having frequently shifted the basis of Biblical interpretation ; and all the time the Jesus of human history has stood out as an object of rever- ence and study alike to Christians and critics. It is here, then, that the real gospel begins and ends. The man is the gospel. He tests and measures the record. The real exegesis is in the application of the character to the context. It is he that inspired the statements, it is he alone that with any clearness and consistency comes out of them to-day. The texts do not prove the life principle which he announced, but the princi- ple proves the texts. There are no contradictions in the character. In its wholeness, all differences of in- terpretation disappear. The churches have been built up on the conrprehension of a single side ; hence the necessity for many churches. The Gospels are the work of different men, and hence individual. But Jesus is one, and no consistent Christianity will ap- proach him from any stand-point of partiality. His principle of life is one, and fails utterly, if it allows any difference except in the progressive appreciation of men. Textual Christianity is giving way to the Chris- tianity of spirit, which asks not what is the result of Sources of Christian Authority. 23 this text pitted against that, but what, between and beyond them all, is the real, the essentially true Jesus; and then what is the gist, the outcome of his peculiar genius, — the spirit, not the letter of his message. The records have so fully done their work that they have given us something truer and more consistent than themselves. This spirit not only inspired them in the beginning, but in the end will be seen to be the only power that can save them. Their sufferings at the hands of criticism have only been the foretaste of a yet wider defection in popular acceptance ; and either the heart of them must be newly understood and in- sisted upon, or they will fall utterly from their high position of usefulness and regard. The question must be asked, What remains to-day, in the light of all destructive facts, still true and saving? What is there that is perennial in them, that no criticism can touch ? If they include nothing but what scholar- ship can undermine, we may well substitute our understanding in place of their outgrown signifi- cance. This inner meaning and message will be found to reside in their wholeness rather than in their separate facts ; in the man they present and his completeness rather than in the partialness of any statement, how- ever impressive, which stands by itself. Christianity is a great deal truer than the Gospels, as any soul is truer than the body in which it resides. It antedated and will outlast them. It is the very work of Chris- tianity to get the gospel into universal consciousness ; and, when this shall have been accomplished, the out- 24 Ecce Spiritus. wvrd record will receive a new preciousness and dig- nity. It is not so much the books that support Chris- tianity, as it is Christianity that supports the books. Without, then, bringing any learned exegesis to bear upon the textual side of Christianity, we may claim to have studied the man of the Gospels in sym- pathetic reverence for him and his truth as therein revealed. We have been able to see how the gospel writers have given more than they intended, written deeper than they knew, and how, by that authority which is not in and of themselves, the records reveal that which contravenes all their possible error and falsity. We go to Jesus to prove the textual verity of any given passage, gauging its accuracy and sin- cerity by the consistent wholeness of his character, which no variations in the narrative have ever com- promised. When we see him, we learn of the short- sightedness and superstition of his historians, who, while everywhere honest and devoted, are so placed toward the vast suggestiveness of his principle of life as to be unable wholly to escajDe a narrowness of in- sight and statement, which no one was so quick to notice and rebuke as Jesus himself. It was this in them that so grieved and disappointed him through life, and especially in those last trying experiences which so severely tested the quality of their appre- ciation. Nevertheless, it is not possible for them to wholly distort the truth of such as he. It yet remained his truth, not theirs. Their honesty gave us the man, while their distance from his exalted stand-point pre- Sources of Christian Authority. 25 rented them from always giving accurate estimates of his words. They labored as they could, not only con- scientiously, but adequately. It is not in the j)ower of man to put the life of such as he into perfect statement; nor was it, so far as we can see, in the plan of Providence to thus relieve future generations of any part to do in the saving work. It is there in suf- ficient fulness, but not unless ice are prepared to find it. A perfect record had not made a perfect Christi- anity, which is not an intellectual statement, but a living power. It is here, not for acquiescence, but for stimulation. There is a logic which puts the mind at rest, but that utterance is better than logical which stirs the soul to life and effort. With this view of the Scripture record, we shall gain nothing by assuming the position that in one pas- sage Jesus teaches his Godhead, while his crowning and essential manhood is asserted in the next. We cannot mistake him and the great drift of his thought and life. We send the characteristic principle he ex- emplifies through the complex statements, like a ray of light shot through confusing ways, and learn every- where of a pinnacle Humanity, so reaching up to and touching Deity as to transcend the narrow significance of either claim. It is useless to replace one literalism with another, to disprove one text by its neighbor. Each is true, but there is something truer than them all, — the man and his spirit as their aggregate out- come. This spirit tone of his uncaught and transcen- dent message, this life power and life drift, every- where setting away from the verbal landmarks and as 26 Ecce Spiritus. law abiding in its operation as it is illimitable in its sweep, is the gift and glory of Christianity. The Gospels will continue to be loved and honored; but their place will still further shift in the estimation of mankind, when they shall be no longer held as a blind guide or a delusive authority. They will then be blessed as the imperfect vehicle of a vast influence which lives below their cunning in the suggestiveness of their lines. And as we do not exalt the canvas, but the S23eaking face and form ingrained in its mean- ingless texture, so it is the man of wholeness we re- gard, and not the ^>sei^o-sacred books. They have done a mighty work, but the real Christ has got be- yond their keeping. Destroy them, if we might, we could not touch the spirit which has already become a race possession. Jesus has been born into universal consciousness, and has become part of our very intuitions. Heredi- tary prepossession, transmitted education, and all atmospheric and unconscious influences that do so much to shape the thought and animate the heart of living, confess him. He is largely instinctive with us now. Whether we will or no, there is something of him still left in our mental and spiritual constitution. Nor need we fear that the world will ever lose Jesus. Its service may be for a long time outward, or its in- sistence upon such service be altogether given up ; but it can no more eliminate him from human conscious- ness than it can destroy life itself. The world is fast losing its respect for the many who have come in his name, and in his name taught many false doctrines; Sources of Christian Authority. 27 but Jesus continues to dominate the motives that color and control the entire outlook and inlook of humanity. But, beyond this, there is that in the Gospels, taken verse by verse, before which no wise and consistent Christian philosophy need acknowledge its powerless- ness. With the principle in our minds which Jesus everywhere insists irpon and applies, there is really no contradictoriness in their separate versions. The minute Jesus is understood, the Gospels grow plain. Nor is there anything illogical in this precedence of the subject over the story. Their harmony is not in and of themselves, intellectually considered, but in the spirit that lives below every line of their writing. It is frequently said the Bible proves one thing as well as another, and hence the growing disregard of the creeds as possessing any peculiar authority, — a dis- regard which goes deeper than appears, since it affects the real allegiance of even those who outwardly con- fess them. If this objection be valid, it is more fatal to any claim of authoritative utterance on the part of the New Testament than we commonly think. Either the Gospels must stand clear of this charge, or they will fall, as indeed they seem to be falling, from popu- lar credence and regard. If it be true that they sub- stantiate one theory as well as another, then is it true that they authoritatively teach nothing. If one credal statement is as truly based on Scripture as an. other, then are the Gospels nothing but a do-all for the churches, and the groundwork for denominational efficacy. In such a case, one sect is as valuable as an- other, and none of them of more than very limited importance. 28 JEcce Spiritus. There can be no half-way position in this matter. Either the Gospels teach something, something defi- nite, certain, and consistent, or they teach nothing. Reasoning people are coming wisely to insist upon this as a fundamental condition of their acceptance, and, in the failure of agreement, on the part of those who profess to consider them saving, as to what this something definite is, are concluding that their claim is mythical. It seems plain from the history of the past, which has only illustrated successive attempts to demon- strate this on the basis of separate passages, that it can only be shown from the record as a whole, re- garded in the light of its consistent spirit rather than of its varying letter. One unmistakable thought, pur- pose, principle, must furnish the ground for their authority. When seen in the light of this, their con- tradictoriness disappears. They remain flexible in application, but absolute in expression. Their inspi- rational claim rests on that which unites and harmo- nizes them, and will attest itself in the faiths newly built up around them ; while in nothing will it be so far disproved as in the position which bases this claim upon the perception of one side of the vast truth they convey. The Gospels stand or fall by themselves, nor need we unduly exercise ourselves with the question of their special inspiration. That they are inspired is certain, but it is with the honesty and mighty im- port of the facts. They will never become plain and consistent until they are measured by the spirit, the life, and principle of Jesus, which was their inspira- Sources of Christian Authority. 29 tion, and remains the key to all their conclusions. Then their contradictions will resolve themselves into complemental parts of one stupendous truth, as broad as the being and possibility of man, and as high as eternal Wisdom and Love. While not the property of the Gospels, Jesus yet owns them in their integrity as stepping-stones into human consciousness. That human consciousness is to-day the great revealer of the Master, who has countless historians. Nor can he fall by any Script- ural inaccuracies. He profits by the very ingen- uousness of the gospel writers, which transforms their short-sightedness into supreme honesty. In their essential integrity, they have given us the man they did not understand, but not alone the man of their misapprehension. Side by side with the ignorance and error goes the rebuke with which he met their want of appreciation. It was the ache and sorrow of Jesus' life that they confronted with bald literalism every utterance of higher philosophy, every statement of spiritual truth he ever made. It was his keenest pang in the bitterness of death that even the nearer few had failed to know him as he was. But all this was well, since the writers did not hesi- tate to give us the rebuke side by side with the gross misconcej^tion. They have impressed the man upon us, even if every inference that they made from him was false, in giving him just as he was, not wholly their misunderstood Jesus, but the one who corrected and shamed them. That was all we could in reason ask of them, and all they could by any possibility give. 30 JEcce Spiritus. The Gospels are simple records of simple men, more impressed with than able always to comprehend the person and principle of which they treat. In truth, they make little obvious effort to understand Jesus. There is frequent questioning, but almost no attempt at systematic study or appreciation. They are only a favored few of an expectant nation who are at the outset prepared to reverence much they cannot com- prehend in so exalted a being. They neither dog- matize nor sum up, but simply relate the incidents and state the facts as best they might. They loved him no less, but more, for what was beyond their power of intellectual or spiritual sympathy ; for were they not subject to his wonderful personal influence, as well as dominated by the strength of a race idea ? Was he not pure, mighty, magnetic, unselfish? Was he not the prince of friends ? They bowed before him, served and followed in his train, not because they fully understood him, but because he was an object of deep and distant wonder. Awe stood in the place of understanding. They spare neither their questions nor their surprise. They nowhere catch the full drift and inclusiveness of his thought. But few in number, and suspected by the powers that were, his disciples followed him with a faith capacity that centuries of waiting had brought out into intense st activity. When at last he had come, it was as one strange and incomprehensible, building a different kingdom from that of which they had dreamed, but infinitely lovely and unmistakably grand. Accurate and exhaustive critical work was not to Sources of Christian Authority. 31 have been expected in the books which came out of the same race spirit, the same intensity of national thought and life, out of which as an environment sprang Jesus himself. For with all his peculiar an- tagonisms to Jewish law and formalism, Jesus, in that extreme sensibility and impressionableness of his nat- ure, in that clear-seeing faculty and that strong self- centred bearing of his, was the natural outcome, the typical representative, of the most individual nation earth ever saw. This " peculiar people," unitized in life and race characteristics, with a firm faith in a special God origin and a sacred history, living in an almost daily realization of a common hope, could not but have been the loins out of which should spring the representative, not of their own narrowness, but of the best possibility of humanity. Jesus was the product of race sentiment, yearning, and aspiration. A deep under-current of popular protest, of spiritual instincts demanding recognition and enlightenment, had dictated that age-long anticipation of a Messiah. This had grown out of common want to a national faith. The universal need called for a representative. It was a race law, a race necessity, that he must come as the natural crown and culmination of its life. The feeling, the expectation, is abroad everywhere, — in the temple, the home, the very atmosphere. The mothers share it in a peculiar sense. Women are very sensitive to certain sides of political life ; and, while never the broadest, they are often the intensest of politicians. They get together and dwell upon this tender hope of a restorer of the nation's life, until 32 Ecoe Spiritus. some one is found rightly constituted and situated to incorporate it into the structure of her own changing system, stamping the mind and character of the off- spring she bears with the intense longing of the peo- ple, in which she herself shares, moulding and shaping its nature to the white heat of her own passionate devotion to the national idea. Out of this strong and reverent faith came the ready response on the part of his followers to the call of Jesus. Out of this spirit, the writings were conceived in the minds of men vacillating between the old in- stinctive faith and the strange personality of the man who at the same time moved and bewildered them. But this did not too greatly trouble them ; for were they not there to follow, to serve, above all to learn ? How imperfectly they grasped the situation is often seen ; how sincere and practically sufficient the record they left as frequently appears. A superficial Chris- tianity sprang up, but the hard shell enclosed the vital germ. It has been there, as a sort of later sal- vation, ever since, developing in the best life of the Church ; from time to time, correcting its abuses and shaming its falsity, until out of much progress the deathless principle comes to light again, to be known for what it is. Not only is it now permitted out- wardly, but it is also inwardly possible to state anew the unspent spirituality of Jesus. The books have weakened in their hold : priest and ritual in popular estimation have lost their saving sanctity. Yet nothing has touched with the hint of incaj)acity the name and power of Jesus, except want Sources of Christian Authority. 33 of understanding on the part of those who profess to represent him. Again, an era of fresh, free religious life succeeds the ages of formalism and subserviency to dead letter. Again, the times await the Messiah, promised of old, but not yet wholly come. In the wilderness of our later Jordan, we wait to welcome him who comes with healing on his lips. CHAPTER III. NATURAL OR SUPERNATURAL. When we consider the source of the peculiar power which Jesus exercised, we are led into a wide field of search. The suggestiveness of his life takes us out into the broad expanse of nature, as well as into the loftiest reach of spirituality. There is nothing that we can leave out of the account, when we consider the sources from which he derives the material of his thought. It is a case of the broadest and keenest sympathies. His disciples themselves seem to have regarded him from the stand-point of their Jewish predilections alone, linking him back by their local and traditional thought to the lineal prophets of the race. At first, he was to them one who should restore the fading splendors of their people; afterward, he was a new strange potency which entered into their life and swayed them beyond their understanding and will. But this inference of the Gospels, which sees only the traditional side of Jesus' origin, finds no sympathy at his hands. At the very outset, he denied any par- ticipation in the old Jewish idea of his origin, and ever afterward went so far contrary to the popular faith and expectation as to render himself as much an Natural or Supernatural. 35 enemy in the estimation of his own people as in that of the Roman government. It was to flee the distrust and opposition he met among his own family and from his neighbors in Nazareth that he passed into the freer air of Capernaum. Here there was less of this conscious necessity of looking backward, and more readiness to accept the truth of to-day. The earliest record of his doings at the age of twelve indicates a strangely sceptical attitude in one so young, and a premature ability not only to question, but to answer, the finalities of Hebrew doctrine. Manifestly there was no disposition on his part, even as early as this, to identify himself with the course of traditional thought. Nor does the subse- quent development of his personality bring him any nearer to the popular expectation. He uses and regards the Scriptures from a twofold stand-point, showing himself keenly alive to their poetic and lit- erary worth, and ever willing to take advantage of their already assured impressiveness to bring his own truths home to men's minds. There is no exclusive- ness in his thought : it is ready to accept the attesta- tion even of a set of doctrines which have been for the most part outgrown. But he is careful to say, "It is written in your law," not my law, nor even our law, but in yours. He participates in all truth, but shares in the sacredness ascribed to no narrow formulation. Jesus refuses to be localized. He owns no nation- ality, confines his followers to no section, sending them unto all nations. He was born with the race 36 Ecce Spiritus. feeling, a fellow of mankind, with humanity at his heart. He is conscious of no prophet-descent, no lineal obligations to preconceived ideas. It is God- descent that fills his consciousness, responsibility to One alone, and that his Father. It is the new wine and the new cloth with him, and he stands clear of patched garments and old bottles. The entire drift of his mind, as well as the expressions of his peculiar principle in its vast application, show that originality characterizes that wonderful possibility of being which not only made him so great, but resulted in the end- less cycles of his most exalted influence upon man- kind. It is not necessary in the light of his consistent thought and life to trace his lineage back to David, or base his power upon the Isaiahn prophecies. Jewish history is the record of a vast preparation, an inten- sity of race life and longing out of which it was necessary that he should come. Further than this we need not go, since the mother that gave him birth refused him sustenance, and, indeed, from the earliest days of his maturity knew him not. It is not always the physical parents who deserve the child's regard, nor who claim the child's allegiance. The foster mother, who bears the growing life, in the womb of a daily wisdom and tenderness, through the period of most critical change, is nearer than the natural parent who only brings forth to curse and to neglect. It was well that Judea rejected him. Thus at the outset was he denationalized, and became the world's possession. It was, moreover, in the line of the en- tire plan and purpose of Jesus' life, which was a com- Natural or Supernatural. 37 plete subjugation of the outward to the inward. It put the emphasis at once on that other nearer birth, which had to do with his coming into the conscious- ness and exercise of spiritual power, and which he so often refers to as the one necessary condition of sal- vation. The physical birthright becomes abortive, is ignored, and made of none effect on every side, in order that the real man, the one who thought and wrought and suffered and triumphed from an entirely new stand-point, might be the more prominent. It is this that he means when he speaks of himself, differ- ing radically from those around him in his estimate of the make-up of personality. Consider him on any other side than this, and he becomes vague and unsatisfactory. He is the most illusive and impersonal of all great historic characters ; never egotistic, and utterly unrelated to his fellows in the ordinary conditions by which personality loves to exercise and complete itself. From any common stand-point, the human interest is entirely wanting in his life. He neither loved as other men love, nor married, nor lived in his children, nor endured the supreme tests of the home. In political and social life, he gave no answer to the great demands that in every age call out the highest practical and moral gifts. He was impersonal everywhere, except where most men are the merest human abstractions. In the higher spiritual prerogative, they are hardly more than pale reflections of that which in Jesus was robust and vital. His spiritual personality was so intense and vigorous that, with the force of the mission that 38 Ecce Spiritus. early laid its hand upon him, he had room in his short life for nothing else. The first expression of his mind of which we have any record, the expres- sion of what would commonly be considered a boy, but which in this case indicates the serious caste of a mature and already preoccupied soul, is, "Wist ye not that I must be about my father's business?" There and then, in the already denationalized Jewish boy, was born the Jesus of humanity. The intense spirit- ual life — absorbing the entire realm of material things as a mere contingent and accessory of his present existence, closely and consciously related to the su- preme source and centre of being, God, and alone bent on the higher welfare of a world grovelling in the literalism of sense — had become not the posses- sion, but the very personality of Jesus. As such, he shines out unmistakably in the Gospels. The man is intangible, vague, perhaps unsatisfactory. This Jesus lives consistently in all, harmonizing every seeming difficulty and establishing the substantial genuineness of the record beyond a reasonable doubt. We perceive here at once the presence of some- thing so unique and individual in the make-up of the man as to lead us again to ask as to the peculiarity in kind, the nature of the power, on which Jesus rested his independence. If he could stand outside of all traditional sanctity, whence came his prerogative, and the consciousness of it, so all-sufficient in him ? A glance at the wholly inadequate position of the Church in this matter will give us the negative side to the answer. Starting with the assumption that man Natural or Supernatural. 39 was inherently, or by transmitted disobedience, de- praved, it has necessitated the introduction of some striking and unusual element in the scheme of salva- tion. In the first trial of life, the race tested the method of nature and found it a failure. Creation on its natural side turned out to be faulty and insuffi- cient. God saw His mistake, and essayed to complete His half-way work by an intervention. The universe had never been anything but a thing of law, but law He pronounced a failure. It was large enough for all other purposes in the life and surroundings of man, but had not included and could not include the sal- vation of the race. Consequently, God entrenched Himself in the resource of an arbitrarily constituted being who should institute an entirely new order of things, and became the type of a great lawlessness. Nature was wrong, ineffective, — nay, worse, — foul and sinful. To complete and save it, there must be the interposition of supernatural efficacy. Certain it is that such a theory, however service- able in the early centuries before even a Luther had come, cannot satisfy the enlightened thought of to-day. It puts itself fatally outside the beautiful cycle of law which the modern mind, having once seen in the uni- verse, will never again give up, though all the systems of theology fail. It is, moreover, as inconsistent with the sense and spirit of Jesus' life as it is with the en- tire tendency of modern thought. It cannot serve us any longer ; and the attempt to enforce it only results in the blank atheism and unchurched indifference, the practical dechristianizing and want of spirituality so characteristic of our time. 40 Ecce Spiritus. One thing is fixed and certain : the religion which gains any acceptance now and henceforth among think- ing people must be in harmony with, nay, based upon and a very part of that system of perfect and un- changeable law which is not only everywhere seen in the universe, but is also seen to be the fittest type of God's being and providence. It is the God of nature men seek, not the supernatural abrogator in religion of the laws he has instituted everywhere else. With such a being, they have hope of understanding and of being themselves understood. They know and reverence law, and by no stretch of the imagination can they reverence anything that would deny its evidently divine function. Religion they want, and would have, — but not if it contravenes the facts of that part of God's creation of which we already know; not if it must, infant-like, play hide and seek behind the worn-out entrenchments of superstition and unreason. In such a case, the age has only one answer to make. It will give up the suppositions of religion sooner than renounce the facts of science. It knows of the latter, and cannot well afford to give up certainty for uncer- tainty. Science has been of late so busily at work unearthing God, that the Church, unwilling to acknowl- edge or accept its results, has been driven to make a wider gulf between itself and thinking people in the restatement of beliefs which, while honest once, are inexcusable now. Certain facts exist ; and, whatever else falls, they must remain. Creative force is the rigid and uncompromising expression of law-abiding instincts, and creative personality in all its relations Natural or Supernatural. 41 with the created must of necessity be the same. If religion is to run in harmony with this, and be as much a product of natural law as the veriest material procedure, it not only will not at the outset excite distrust, but will appeal to just those faculties which in this age have supremest activity and inspire most universal confidence. It will not be the product of reason in this age any more than it has been in any other, but it will be so peculiarly reasonable that no objection and no want of respect shall come from that at present authoritative quarter. There is no opposi- tion to spirituality, except so far as it is baseless and contradictory of known facts. But if it can be shown to be natural, law-abiding in the same sense in which the universe is, and in harmony with, not opposed to and nugatory of the facts that science has revealed, the age not only can accept, but is hungry for it. It will be for our future consideration to see how nature and spirit agree, nay, at least in one of their aspects, are one and the same thing, so that there is not only no opposition between natural and spiritual, but perfect sympathy and accord. Suffice it now to assert that such a religion as above described, as the only one possible in our time, is found in that of Jesus, and to show one of the aspects in which it is an eminently natural and not a supernatural product. TTe refer now simply to its origin, the order out of which it came, whether that of preconceived and prov- idential law, instituted in the beginning and made a part of the very structure and condition of things, or unrelated to law and interventional, supernatural in 42 Ecce Spiritus. the sense of transcending in its coming all the known methods of God's working. Observe that we say the religion of Jesus, and not Christianity; and yet there is no possible objection to the word, if Jesus, and not the intervening ages of theological distortion, be allowed to fill out its mean- ing. For Jesus draws his peculiar environment from as fine a natural selection, as pure a succession of law, as any development of life within the scope of scientific observation. No statement could be simpler nor more readily accepted than that life, as we know it, is an ascending and descending* scale between the two ex- tremes of moral and spiritual attainment, tending in graded steps, now toward some typical and irresist- ible virtue, and now toward some representative evil. Thus, in general, men are neither very good nor very bad. The mass of mankind are within the circle of a conflicting allegiance, and not in any sense represent- atives of either of the moral extremes. We say that every person has at least a latent possibility of good, and in general none are so consistent in their virtue as to prevent the appearance of frequent imperfection. And yet there is very manifest variation in the bal- ance of tendencies in different individuals and classes of society, the law establishing that the goodness or badness of no two shall exactly coincide, each one differing a shade in worth or degradation from his neighbor. In some, the balance is nicely kept, and neither virtue nor vice wholly gains the ascendancy. In others, enough good predominates to warrant the general title of virtuous, or enough vice intervenes to Natural or Supernatural, 43 stamp the character with a decidedly unwholesome taint. But, in general, such distinctions are very- vague and of only relative importance. It is evident that the law, ever one in the total of experience, and with an aggregate that never varies except in the slowly ascending ratio of man's progres- sive development, allows, we had almost said necessi- tates, this spiritual individuality in some large view of the purposes of life. But it is also evident that the law cannot stop here in its complete working. It has provided for the ordinary necessities of an experi- ence which transcends the physical, and cannot be shown to be perfect until it has gone further, and in- cluded beyond its limitations an extreme expression which shall show the fullest possibilities of life. The variation in either direction must lead us out to representative character. Down among the immoral growths there must be one who shows the possible limits to which human depravity can sink. There must be one lower than all the rest, more hopeless than whom no man can ever be. It is not our prov- ince to decide who that revealer of unregenerateness may be, since here our means of knowledge of the comparative sort are few and scanty. Men have not troubled themselves with the nice question of relative moral littleness. History has merely outlined the picture, at which mankind shudders and turns away in loathing. It is of no consequence whether the un- enviable palm be accorded a Judas, a Nero, a Caligula, a Duke of Alva, or a Henry VIII. Suffice it to say that somewhere on that low plane exists one more ut- 44 Ecce Sjnritus. terly without good than his fellows, one who stands type and symbol of all to which human badness can attain. By the same law, just as the race declines on a nicely adjusted scale to such representative sinners, by an equally fine gradation it ascends through the philanthropic and saintly names to some pinnacle character, some instance of phenomenal attainment in the region of the good. In stricter language, these are the limits within which the law of life expresses itself. With all the freedom of the individual, and any changes that might be made in the moral stand- ard, there must be a worst and a best, a sufficient warning and an inspiration out of the actualities of life in their natural evolution adequate to all the needs of life. The representative Good must be the fulfilment of the law which includes and necessitates the struggle and final conquest of man. The condi- tions of life into which he is born surround him with a spiritual environment of baffling necessities, unsatis- fied longings, and illusive ideals. The law of his being gave him these, but did not, could not, stop here. It had one crowning representative expression, which gave him, whatever the degree of his indi- vidual endowment, that which his limitations lacked. If he were in any sense lost, either by nature or per- sonal neglect, in the midst of this environment into which he was born, then the same conditions must furnish him a saviour. We are bound in the law of being for good and bad, but never beyond the fact of a possible deliverance. That which limits must per- force furnish a way out into fulness. Natural or Supernatural. 45 This is a condition of nature, as we commonly un- derstand the word, a part of the very structure of things, not new, not interventional, but a side of the necessity that was seen in creation. It is a law just as positive and certain as that of gravitation, and brings us to our spiritual Saviour with no strain nor stretch of strictly natural symbols. It is just as truly the provision of God for his children, the expression of that loving foresight which in the beginning, at the very inception of things, not only ordained life, but so conditioned it that it should of its own neces- sity be brought back to him. Salvation was no after- thought of the Almighty. If there were any elements of estrangement in the conditions into which man came, neither the law nor its Creator could have been just, and left out of its fixities the means of reconcili- ation and restoration. Such a revelation, a part of fact and the very order and completeness of nature, we can understand. It derogates in no degree from our respect for God, — a respect learned in a universe of most wonderful elaborateness and reliability, and appeals at once to our confidence and comprehension. While violating in no slightest ]3 articular the facts or the order of nature, it is a most beautiful and tender illustration of the fatherly care of the Creator. Re- ligion can ask for no grander proof of a providential and beneficent government than this. There is no clinging weakness and no honest want that cannot shelter itself under such a conception. Nothing has been more grossly misunderstood than the idea of God's providence. A low, poor word has 46 JEJcce Sp>iritus. vitiated its sublime import, by taking it out of the sphere of law. It has been linked with special, and negatived altogether. Providence is a seeing before; a foresight, not an afterthought ; an anticipation, not an intervention. There is, and can be, no special providence where all is providential, and has been so from the earliest creation of an all-wise God. He p?*o-\ide& for all his creatures in the establishment of laws which, in their inevitable working, included the conditions of his possible salvation. There can be no providence outside of this, nor is one needed. God does his work wisely and well, and will not avail himself of any of our suggestions or corrections. It was all right in the beginning, and will be in the end. Nor is it true that the honest human heart asks for itself any more than this. We can well be content with a forethought that resides in the very inception of things ; we can well rest in a providence so much older even than our history, as tireless as creation itself, and far more consoling than the idea of a God who intercepts law for our especial benefit. There can be no sadness in this thought, nothing that wars against human joy in effort and attainment. There is blessedness everywhere in man's adaptation to God's law. There is no blessedness outside of this ; and for want of it is all the ache and incompleteness, the despair of life. When we look for this highest outcome of our race possibilities, w T e have not far to go. That Jesus stands in that position will be a matter of doubt to almost none. Any scepticism which touches him has refer- Natural or Supernatural. 47 ence solely to the supernatural claims put forth for him by his followers ; but men most radical, most pro- fessedly outside the pale of Christian fellowship, agree in reverence for the man. He was good, — utterly, unmistakably good. He was radiantly pure, grandly unselfish, uncompromisingly true. What more can we ask in our pinnacle character ? Without any un- due Christian bias, we can say of him that he is a man of men. Taken simply as a product of history, one of the great names among many, there are at least none greater in goodness than he. But he is more, infinitely more than this, as we shall see later on, alike in his providential character and his strict truthfulness to nature. He is in all respects the highest possibility of man, touching, nay exhausting, ranges of being that transcend even the moral. The fever and stress of life, its joy and sor- row, are caught up in him and there find their har- mony and completeness. But ever in the fulness of his prerogative he remains humanity's representative by no supernatural, no especially divine endowment ; a creature of no interrupted law, but an embodiment of life's best in being and possibility provided for in the necessary conditions of the race. We do not need to go outside of law to find him. Whenever we come to human history in its whole- ness, we shall be sure to meet him in his antipodal virtue, completing the long line of spiritual develop- ment which begins in the polar depravity of a Nero. He is a race necessity, provided for in the beginning, included in a law so perfect that it needed no inter- 48 JEcce Spiritus. vention ; a revelation out of man's own loins of the God that first breathed in him the breath of life, and was never more to be a fact wholly separate from him. CHAPTER IV. CHRISTIAN POWER. With the question as to the source of Christian power answered, that as to its specific nature conies next in order. It has already been said that Jesus stands representative of the sum total of man's highest possible attainment, but the statement will not at first thought be fully understood. According to the esti- mate of the man will be the conception of what is highest for him ; and here it is evident that Jesus differed from those about him, as well as from a large class of thinkers to-day. When the phrase "greatest of men " is used, there are many who mean nothing by it but man with reference to his power to think, to organize, and to execute. The great intellectual, artistic, and mechanical triumphs are their measure of the man, that which in their minds links him closest to the vast intelligence that originates and orders in the sphere of the universe. The fact remains, however, that there is something of man back of this, which is more truly himself and more genuinely powerful than the exercise of any merely intellectual faculty. For instance, a man recombines crude elements of power, which were before meaningless, so that now some wonderful me- 50 Ecce Spiritus. chanical result is attained. Manifestly there is some- thing godlike in this leading where others only follow, in this co-ordinating power, akin to that by which God works, which gives him this strange mastery over cause and effect. But after we have exhausted the wonder, the beauty, or the use of his creation, and come back to the man himself, we find that, great as was his invention, he himself was infinitely greater. The machine is no measure of the man. He made it, and something else made him what he was, as seen in that creative possibility. The mechanical ingenuity was subordinate to that in the man which enabled him to wait and struggle, which sustained him with hope and armed him with courage. No one compasses anything that is not less than himself; and, although his mind might have conceived of the machine, his hand never could have carried it through to perfection, in the face of countless obstacles, with- out that something back of it which was more truly himself than the mechanical skill. The world must first be indebted to him for what he was, before it could have any occasion to thank him for what he did. The last outcome of the man is personal, and the person is jnore than a set of faculties. He presides over, resides in these, but is no one of them, nor all of them taken together; but some aggregate and out- come of separate functions become One, regnant, and personal. As himself, he is a power far back of any cunning he can put into the dead possibility of iron and steel. When you have found him, you begin to know something of the real potency which did not Christian Power. 51 so much create, as inspire and make creation possible. You feel that he cannot be identified with his power to do, any more than God can be confounded with that which he has created ; that, when you name him, you name some power of being beyond all the expres- sions, however mighty, of his originating faculties. Out of these in their separateness, the man is some- thing individual and entire, seen in each, and yet more than all. In other words, the man is spiritual. The last analysis of that which is most peculiar and personal and essential about him is spirituality. This, also, is his highest outcome and measurement. This is Jesus' test of manhood. This in its completeness of reali- zation was his phenomenal attainment. Let us consider this further in illustration. In com- mon parlance, we know each other when we are able to distinguish through the senses that which out- wardly characterizes us. But intimate knowledge and affection claim that there is something more separat- ing and individual, which, present or absent, we recognize afar off as our friend. What would he say and think? How would this or that affect him? What expression would his sympathy give to our ex- perience ? It is knowing this that constitutes real ac- quaintanceship. The reproduction in imagination of the bodily likeness gives no sense of reality to the thought of any person. When we think of him, we think of his attitude, his feeling toward some one of the states of being which may be affecting us ; we get his relativity to some of the inward matters that ex- 52 JEcce Spiritus. ercise our minds. When we have settled it how he would be placed toward circumstances such as ours, we feel that in some sort we have had communion with him. With this sort of recognition between friends, though space can disturb, it cannot wholly separate. We often say, "I have been with such an one all day/' and come back to the ordinary intercourse of life with something of the same subdued seriousness which ever attends the reuniting of distant friends. Others rally us on our abstraction, the indifferent manner, the far- away look of the eyes, the difficulty of at first under- standing what is said about us. They say we are absent-minded ; and nothing could be truer to the fact. The soul at its highest expression is not neces- arily where the body is. It is wherever that is in which it most lives. You can keep the body here, but nothing can shut the soul from its own. In such case in reality ice are not here. Our affection, our sym- pathy, rules our environment. If a thousand miles are as one to God, so are they to a soul, just so far as the exercise of its functions is godlike. This is Jesus' conception of man, as one who has an expression higher than the external, which is yet most distinctively himself. It is the highest of mankind in this sense of which Jesus stands representative. He is the Phenomenal Man by reason of no attainment of virtue which merely outshines the ordinary in the degree of its possession of his nature, but because of the dominance in him of a manhood distinct in con- sciousness and standard from any yet seen or in- Christian Power. 53 culcated. He had not to give them anything, for he possessed no arbitrary power, but simply to bring out that which was latent in them to life. They were spiritual in possibility, but did not know it ; and herein lay the key to the sadness of the situation. Jesus, seeing man from another stand-point, did not merely ask him to accept this virtue or abandon that vice, but demanded an entire change of outlook, work- ing down at the roots of being, and purifying the springs of action at their source. It was more than a revelation, a revolution, sweeping and radical, which was to leave nothing unchanged in the structure of man's thoughts and motives. It was man he modified, not the teaching of the schools. Our measure of the highest in man must answer to a three-fold test : it must be that which is rarest, most comprehensive, and most exalted. That spirituality meets the first condition, the age in which Jesus lived, as well as every subsequent one, sufficiently attests. The cultured are to the unconxpromising as a million to one. The perception of good is far in advance of its realization. Consciousness speaks once of things real and eternal, where speculation and doubt are heard a thousand times. That it is comprehen- sive no one will question when it is seen to include all there is of a man, all that can go to the make-up of his possible wholeness, all science, culture, art, equally the true, the beautiful, and the good. It refuses no fact, and scorns no inspiration. It welcomes all into the mighty human possibility. It absorbs from all sides, but never compromises, never ceases in its in- 54 Ecce Spiritus. clusiveness to remain itself, one and entire. It takes all there is of a man to be spiritual, — head, heart, limbs, and life; all thought, all emotion, ail love, while spirituality is itself their co-ordination or control. It will not be classified nor divided, is neither morality nor religion; but that in which they, as ministering functions, become one. The reason why there are so few spiritually great characters is because of the al- most irresistible human tendency to be one-sided and partial. Men of the latter description are the kind of men we commonly remark and honor; while the spiritually great, by reason of the roundness and bal- ance of their faculties, often escape the notice so easily gained by the narrow specialist. There are religionists great in organization, pietists with a pecu- liar genius for evangelization, moralists apt at precept. There are natures fiery with the enthusiasm of reform, or dry and compendious with the nicely graded ethics of the schools ; but the race of whole men began and ended with Jesus. He was no specialist, neither ascetic nor prodigal, certainly not a moralist in the sense that Moses or Confucius were, and, least of all, an ecclesiastic. His manhood was complete and en- tire, yet through all the spiritual was distinct and dominant. Yet, although he was inclusive and cosmopolitan in the matter of his human interest, his breadth did not diminish the loftiness of his range. If there were none broader than he, there was also none more exalted. He would stop no step this side of the Supreme Being. It was God, unconditional purity Christian Power. 55 and truth, life consciously akin to divine life, he alone accepts. He put everything but this under his feet, and could in that act go no higher. His spirituality does not despise the earth, but it has a winged step and moves high up among the realities. It cries out for the truth that only he wh© is high can see. It dignifies and elevates all to its own level. There can be no further test needed for the endow- ment of a human Saviour than this. It is salvation out of humanity, and yet divine with that divinity which hedges round humanity, and only needs awak- ening at the hands of a Master to save and bless. It is so far forth divine that it is the very power by which God works, that back of all other power of which the world knows anything. We exalt the manifold agencies by which our material splendor comes, and rate our grandeur by the mastery we attain over elec- tricity, magnetism, and steam. But spiritual power is the primal potency back of them all. It moulds and masters even matter, and in the resolution of each element back to its source stands out as the reality even there. It is, in fact, the only real power there is. It is the only shaping, guiding force we know. Matter is limited in its manifestations, but, blind as its agencies seem to be, they are motions of God's power, which is purely spiritual. The sphere of the latter is, however, unlimited. It is causative and controlling in every realm of being, masterful alike in things of time and of eternity. There is no power anywhere but God's power, and we can conceive of his using no other than this. It created and sustains and allows 56 JEcce Spiritus. that infinitely fine and delicate relationship of things outward with things essential, which we are all the time coming more clearly to see. It is the only real potency that man possesses, making every creation of his possible, dictating all the expressions of his genius, just as in the sphere* of God it is the agency out of sight behind all physical manifestations in the uni- verse. Nothing is now better understood than that the best in a man not only has a faculty of finding an outward expression, but also dominates his physical structure and environment. There are ample illustra- tions around us of startling changes wrought in feat- ures, form, and the entire carriage, by the awakening of spiritual forces within. All the outward character- istics, the very material make-up, answers by some subtle law of subjection to the new motives. We first hear of the change in our friends, but know all about it as we see them. The physical responds as surely, if not as quickly, as the mind to the influence of culture. Refinement and elevation cannot be kept in. The soul tends ever inward to the heart and cen- tre, the reality of all things, but has equally a tendency outward, as a transforming and subduing element m the sphere of matter. A coarse and irregular face finds a new harmony under the inspirations of cult- ure. The features are smoothed out, and another tone given to the before meaningless countenance. The boy returns from college with a readily-divined change in his form and carriage, which is more than the simple maturing of years. Age, sickness, climate Christian Power. 57 cannot more subtly modify the man outwardly, and put him beyond the recognition of his friends, than the power of education. The difference between the cultured and the rude is nowhere more marked than in the countenances they respectively lift for our inspection. So that the cause of culture means much even to him who is merely in search of outward beauty. And if so of ordinary education, it is still more so of that which is higher and more essential, and that, too, in proportion to the elevation of the sphere. Take a sorrow that, properly assimilated, becomes the nutriment of spiritual life, and will it not beautify the features as well as the character? See how a high thought or aspiration, a holy purpose, cannot be kept wholly out of sight ! It is a startling fact, a sug- gestive field for inquiry, as yet bat little touched, how it is that the inward is the source and measurement of outward development. There is a law here finer and more mighty than any that Newton or Galileo discov- ered, a law that lies close in to the heart of things, and explains most of our mysteries. Whether or not Jesus ever uttered the words at- tributed to him by only one of the Gospel writers, — "Now all power in heaven and on earth is given into my hands," and whatever may have been the circum- stances out of which the utterance actually came, — it is certain that there was a point even earlier in his career than the one instanced, when he might truth- fully have made the statement. What other power in heaven or on earth is there beside spiritual power ? 58 Ecce JSpiritics. He has mastered earth, standing as he does above it, by the exercise of that very force which is back of its every manifestation. He has triumphed over matter, put all lower considerations under foot, in the conscious possession of the very power of purity and truth that are in God. The mastery of earth is the condition of his hold on heaven. This assertion would not be the identification of Jesus with God, but the transcendent utterance of one standing on the pinnacle of possible development, humanly con- scious of the vast spiritual prerogative bound up in the being of man. All through his life, Jesus was dealing with this problem of power, and the issue was never doubtful to one who watched from beginning: to end his con- sistent course. But there came a time when, with the last step taken, and the final enemy consciously under foot, he could feel that nothing stood between him and the final statement of his triumph. We do not in the least know the fulness of this power which we see so imperfectly in the working of God, and which resides as a possibility in universal humanity. It is yet to be studied reverently, though with scientific accuracy. It will make clear to us those things in the life of Jesus which, between un- thinking, superstitious faith on the one hand and blind materialism on the other, have had no chance of being understood ; and it will take the sting and doubt from much of our daily experience. That this possession did in the hands of Jesus become a won- derful vehicle of power over men, and even over Christian Power. 59 outward nature, giving a sensitive sympathy with and sway over much that remains beyond our ordinary understanding and control, there is no reason to doubt; yet it never could have been for a moment outside of or antagonistic to the system of law. It is part of, not opposed to, the laws of nature; a higher possible expression of them, never for an in- stant overlooked in their inception. The larger view of nature — to be elaborated later on — finds nothing strange nor out of keeping with strictest certainty of action in this assertion. That Jesus actually per- formed miracles in the common acceptation of the term is not for a moment to be inferred. It was as far from him in spirit as it would have been in possi- bility to have entertained such an idea. It would in every way have thwarted the intent of his life and negatived all his thought. He was guilty of no such inconsistency in his attempt to complete nature, to fulfil law, and carry these out in conscious service on the part of man to legitimate results. He was here to enlarge, not to belittle, the world ; to establish the larger law, not to deteriorate the less. If he could have contravened one of the simplest of nature's fundamental principles, his own system — nay, God himself — would have been lost. He did, then, no miracles in this superficial sense, while he was not guiltless of wonderful things in proportion to the strength of his spiritual endow- ment. If God is a spiritual being, and the Creator of the universe, it follows that, as man becomes one with God by the exercise of the spiritual possibility 60 Ecce Spiritus. in him, he approaches to the supremacy which God has in the sphere of created things; always, however, as with God himself, in strict accordance with, nay, as a very part of, law itself, and not to circumvent, but to complete nature. This is first seen in the body, where a wonderful subordination appears. But the body is a type of all matter, in sympathy with, and an epitome of, nature as a whole. Its laws are substantially the laws of the universe. No one who has not first gained supremacy here knows how subtle an insight, how powerful a sway, comes over matter at large. It was this that Jesus learned through the possession of this same power of subordinating matter. It did not pre- cede, but followed. It is what is back of any mastery over matter that we are interested in. That he was what he was is much. That he did one thing or another amounts to but little. It is the more gratifying to be able to look at the question of his miracles with this indifference, because of a strong conviction that the value and validity of Christianity in no sense depend upon the substanti- ation of his wonder-working power. Every other great religion has grounded itself on the assumption of miraculous and interventional efficacy, — a claim so old and commonplace that Jesus could not but suffer from its too great prominence in his own case. If it should be that he ranges himself with the rest in this respect, it would only be left us to choose between the different sets of wonders of the several miracu- lous saviours of mankind. Whether his were better Christian Power. 61 or worse than the others, or not, they would certainly be neither original nor commanding. Simply as mir- acles, they prove nothing, for the other religions are founded upon them as well. Nor is there anything especially fresh and inspiring in the miracles he is supposed to have wrought. We should rather refuse to rest so splendid a mission, such an exalted power, on a claim so superficial and inadequate. Without doubt there was a foundation in fact for the narrative of the Gospel writers in this respect. Two elements enter into the account : what Jesus actually did, and what sort of an interpretation the writers themselves would have naturally put upon it, — an interpretation of diminishing value by reason of every hand through which it passed in trans- mission, and every year of deepening wonder which intervened between the actual occurrence and its reduction to writing. Unquestionably, Jesus aston- ished them with the exercise of a power, strange to them, but as simple and natural, and as much in har- mony with known law, as any in the universe. It is to this that our science and culture, as well as our larger religion, are bringing us, asserting no special prerogative of one man in the centuries gone by, but the universal goal of all human progress and enlighten- ment in the finer perception of the larger relationships of the laws by which we are surrounded. We are working away from miracles, and yet toward the heart of a wonder that surpasses even the magician's dream. It is useless to say that if, then, the narrative be not accurately true in every matter of detail, it utterly 62 Ecce Spiritus. fails of authority as a whole. The fact remains, patent to the most literal believer in the inspiration of the Gospels, that Jesus' nearest disciples did not under- stand him. He never uttered a sjiuritual truth that they did not stumble at ignominiously, distorting it into bald literalism or utterly failing to grasp its divine significance. Their materialism daunted and dismayed him. Side by side with an expressed re- buke was a sadness of questioning, as if, so it seemed to him, they would never see and never understand. If they themselves confess so much in their life of him, have they not confessed precisely what is here claimed? They could catch facts which they were not able to comprehend. They could relate that about which their inferences were all false. There was no philosophy of history then. The crudeness and simplicity of the records constitute half their value. If we take them at their exact worth, they are infinitely valuable. But, from their own state- ments, no person in actual contact with Jesus, and no gospel writer, in the least comprehended the power which in his hands inspired them with awe. But they, in their acknowledged ignorance, have given us sufficient groundwork for the statement of a fact which we must have believed of him, even on slighter grounds of knowledge than we now possess, — that, being such as he was, Jesus could not have helped possessing a certain conscious power, incident to his spiritual endowment, in the sphere of nature. CHAPTER V. SPIRITUALITY. If it were possible to remove at once the idea of vagueness which surrounds the common conception of this word, "spirituality," it would be seen how much of the difficulty connected with the subject would disappear. Unconsciously, our modern thought separates it immediately from everything definite and certain, considering it as lawless and capricious, in some sort a part of the mystic's reverie and the poet's dream. So long as this is so, the difficulty is increased of making progress, between superstition on the one hand and materialism on the other, out into inclusive light and life. It must be taken from the realm of vagaries, and shown to be something capable of defi- nite and scientific statement, not as a dogma, but as a law, a principle, before it can accomplish the full work for which our time is hungering. In other words, it must, in some degree, as far as is possible in the nature of things, and yet always far enough for the compre- hension of those spiritually inclined, be stated in the terms of the understanding. It is no mere theory : it is life, conscious fact, practical reality. It can moreover be shown to be a part of the demonstration of things, bound up with the procedure and destiny 64 JEcce Spiritus. of everything that has life. The universe is just as incomplete without it, as is the nature of man. Man completes the order of creation, and creation tends to find its fulfilment along the line of that peculiar power which is not only exercised by, but is God himself in action. There is a sense in which we are not able to state spirituality in terms of mathematical exactness, but this in no degree proves anything derogatory to its reality, but rather, on the contrary, places it among the superior facts of consciousness, whose demonstra- tion lies deeper down than arithmetic. There is not necessarily any life, anything real in that sense, in the theorem in geometry that we prove beyond all shadow of a doubt. Of the deepest, truest in us, we have no other demonstration than our own conscious- ness, sufficient unto us, but unavailable to others. It is only the superficial facts that we can prove : the realities are always lived. Experience is the greatest of all proofs, and yet it is about the only thing that cannot be demonstrated to others. It was never or- dained that there should be any truck and barter in life. He who knows most about it would be the last to dream of proving it. It lies too far in to the centre to be a subject for the sciences as we now know them. Nevertheless, while rejoicing in this reassuring fact, the time has come when some attempt at stating and understanding with all possible definiteness what we mean when we speak of spirituality should be made. It has been one of the stock words of literature and Spirituality. 65 religion for centuries, serving in turn the preacher and the poet in his direst need, the key-note of the philosophy of a Goethe or Schiller or Wordsworth or Carlyle, as it has been in dim understanding the mainspring of the martyr's faith. And yet the world knows just as much about it to-day as it ever did, and no more. There is hardly another subject which it has not traced back with scientific accuracy to its source; but "spirituality" remains a word, with a vast, mysterious, indefinable background of phenom- enal attainment in the region of the good, but no theoretical understanding and practical statement. It may mean much or nothing, but no one knows exactly ichat it means. Life has done far more to realize it than language, and this is in general wise and suffi- cient. It has to do with that which we can make plain to God, for the simple reason that he knows it already. There are many things we should not dream of telling to one who did not already know them. So, at the outset, there is to be something presup- posed on the part of him to whom the statement of a spiritual fact is directed. There is nothing strange nor harmful in this acknowledgment. The limitation does not inhere in the nature of the thing itself, but only in the circumstances surrounding it. An illustra- tion will make this plain. Music most deeply affects a large class of people, and stands in their minds as something real, a fact of consciousness and life. There is that in them as undeniable as it is undemon- strable which springs into being under the influence of 66 Ecce Spiritus. music. It opens another world, a strange new set of relationships, a vivid consciousness of delight, which they can yet in no wise make plain to another not so constituted as to perceive all this in and of himself. To assert over and over again out of the fulness of experience that which has no proof outside of experi- ence will not satisfy one bent alone upon the scientific formula. According to such a standard, all such state- ments are valueless, since they cannot realize the facts of musical consciousness to the mind of him who is unable to hear anything but mere sound in the music. The only possibility of such a realization lies in the possession of a sense or capacity adapted for its recep- tion. Externally there is a mathematical law upon which music is based; but this in no wise accounts for it. The mathematical laws upon which the proced- ure of music is founded may be understood without any appreciation of the reality of music. The most conscious believer in that reality cannot tell what and why it is. He only knows of a fact for which he can find no intellectual formula. But the point which principally interests us is that to the large class who turn away, bored or unaffected by the fact of music, the reality of the fact cannot possibly be demonstrated. Yet v all this does not the least disturb the confidence of those who have personal knowledge of its power. A step further shows that there are in music widely different schools of criticism. A Wagner appears, with a wonderful grasp of technical effects in orches- tration, by which a clever presentation of purely in- Spirituality. 67 tellectual ideas is made. Even unmusical minds catch the drift of the intonation, see the lightning, hear the thunder, and perceive in a pictorial way, through the medium of sound, the conceptions which the composer desires to impress. But the critic boldly denies the artistic truthfulness of all this, and asserts that, beyond the technical skill in orchestration and the cleverness of the imitation, which no one would deny, this is far from being music, in any adequate use of that term. A majority of musically cultivated people will support this position, reasserting as pos- itively as he the conviction that the method of Wagner is false to art. They will declare, with no question as to the poetic value of the Niebelungen Lied, that the music will not serve the theme, but the theme the music, that music in its sphere will wait for no intellectual conception to call it into being, but must exist for its own sake alone. But how will they prove, or even make plain to others, this of which they are themselves absolutely conscious and certain? The moment the attempted demonstration is made, they are forced to enunciate the truth, equally true and incapable of logical proof, that there is at the last analysis only one criterion in matters musical; and that is a purely musical sense. The intellect cannot arbitrate here. It deals alone with intellectual con- ceptions, and is authority only in the sphere of intel- lectual truth. It can answer for the correctness of the effect to be caught by imitation ; but to know musi- cally of the truth of any artistic representation re- quires, at the outset, a peculiar, inborn capacity for 68 JEJcce Spiritus. music, which art culture of the highest kind has edu- cated into a special sense, judging out of its own suffi- ciency, and absolutely final, as well as beyond the scope of ordinary reasons in the opinions it delivers. The musical sense, educated and developed into conscious sufficiency, decides all the nice points of criticism. It may not make itself clear to the terms of the ordi- nary understanding, but in the sphere of music it is the only guide and authority. There are musical ideas, — just as there are intellectual ideas, — incapable of being stated in the language of the intellect, but de- manding for their interpretation and expression a special sense corresponding strictly thereto. A musi- cal idea can be said to be true only on the authority of that to which it can hope adequately to appeal. It is only in the most primitive state of self-con- sciousness that a man will be content with the com- mon assignment of five senses. When science has reached from the rocks to man, and from man super- ficially to the real test of his humanity, it will be seen that these five are but the bed-plate and begin- ning of senses innumerable, and of vastly greater rano;e and significance. There is a spiritual sense, not yet pronounced in all, and often dormant, like the apjDreciation of reality in music, but authoritative in matters spiritual when once possessed and developed. It then becomes acute and wonderfully real, more consciously a part of the self than any of the superficial senses in their dealings with matter. To such as possess this in conscious activity, we can appeal in our spiritual crit- Spirituality. 69 icism ; but there is no hope of a response from those who are not only without, but repellent of it. As well describe scenery to a person born without phys- ical eyes, or play Beethoven or Mozart to another destitute of musical sense, as to hope for understand- ing of spiritual realities at the hands of one spirit- ually blind. Jesus found this difficulty in his day, as he finds it now; although happily there has been a preparation going on through the centuries for a renewal of his message, with the prospect of better results. To-day there are hungering souls and awak- ening natures, thrown off alike by the unscientific character of current religion and the irreligiousness of science, who will rejoice in an attempted recognition of that most profoundly real and inspiring in them, which yet at the same time eludes the ordinary power of statement. On every hand there is a prophecy of the coming of this. There is expectation in philosophy, as well as growing faith in religion, that the work of the past few centuries has been a preparation and forerunner for this. Science has but begun its mighty task, but the nations will not long be satisfied with the surface of truth. We have infinite faith in the future of man. We fear neither materialism nor any threat- ening form of atheism. The hint of happier reaction is heard on every hand. Already there is deep ex- pectancy of a reign of spirituality about to come. It will come, and will save Christianity, whereof the age has despaired. It will dissipate the sadness of life, and put the lost heart into the new effort. This 70 JEJcce Spiritus. salvation, like every other lasting one, will be from within outward. In Christianity, torn and distorted, there is enough to save it and the world. But Christ must come anew. Happily, he can. Happily, he did not die on Calvary, and occupies no tomb. Happily, his promised comforter of the ever-living Spirit can come, and lead us into all truth. There are in the life of man three spheres, so graded in ascent from lower to higher that each in- eludes the other or others below it. Thus, the mate- rial sphere is in and of itself, taking no cognizance whatever of the intellect or spirit. The intellectual sphere, however, is the very one which in the exercise of its own power has reduced outward nature and man physically to scientific enumeration. While the spiritual, stepping on to a still higher plane, subordi- nates intellect and body to a more radical comprehen- sion. Physically, man lias found his relations with nature ; mentally, he perceives men and matter more comprehensively. Man then becomes social, and the world responds to his thought ; while his spiritual facul- ties have co-ordinated nature and human fellowship into the higher union with God. It is this co-ordina- tion alone which has in any adequate degree approxi- mated God. Abraham caught it in fleeting glimpse, when he stood upon the height, and questioned sun and moon and stars as to the sovereignty of the universe, coming at last to the consciousness of the unseen God, who made them all, and was alone to be worshipped and adored. It was a part of the inspiration of David, as far as it was possible to one who lived amid Spirituality. 71 the peculiar moral environment of his age. The power in large measure of natural capacity was given to him ; and he only lacked the presence of a loftier ideal to have made him king of the higher life of his time, as he was of Hebrew song. But Jesus first grasped it — or, rather, it grasped him — in the iron grip of a deathless necessity. He rejected nothing, not even the dead formalism of Pharisaic law ; but what profound meanings he threw into the universe and the life of man ! He announced this one great necessity of life, — that the soul, cre- ated in the possibility, but cut off in the practice, of spiritual communion, has come under the power of a death more fearful and fatal than mortal disease. He went further than a mere announcement: he embodied the message. He was no herald, but the practical fruition of what man needed. He showed the point and limit of earth's possible meaning, having first to do with the capabilities of life here and now; and then, by pointing men on, though not too exclusively, to a w^orld beyond, he transfused and exalted this to a significance of which they had never dreamed. In any adequate summing up, the meaning of his life was this, that he was absorbed in God. And yet not without a reservation. The word is apt, but mis- leading. In ordinary use, we have no other idea of absorption except as a process which draws from, without adding to. It is a complete surrender, a sinking of self, a losing of individuality, if not of identity. But here nothing of this sort is meant. 72 JEcce Spiritus. Absorption in God is peculiar in this, that by the very nature of things the spirit finds accretion in- stead of depletion in sinking itself in its source. God is not the receiver, but the giver : he can gain nothing, and must impart by virtue of his very being. Everywhere, the lower tends to become the higher. It is in God, in infinity, ever reaching down to finite- ness, that the progress comes. Absorption in God means being the recipient of continual gain in com- munion, means the exercise of power and love in us toward constant amplifi cation. This is, however, only another way of saying " spirit- uality." It emphasizes the fact that there is conscious- ness of life, peculiar and separate from all purely animal instincts, in an active alliance with the higher life of God. On any plane above the common, a per- son's life is the measurement of w r hat he can know and love. But as bodily life is not comprehended merely in the functions of the hand or foot, or even of that fine nerve power at their source which electrifies them into motive and action, — so the soul's life is a fine fusion of spiritual attributes, which moves even back of these expressions of intelligence and feeling. It is the state of being conscious of inner and essential experience, closely allied to and consciously commun- ing with God. There is nothing more natural than this, nothing more surely subject to laws and exacti- tudes which limit it in the sphere of cause and effect. Nothing could be more normal and' healthy than the growth of a person along this line. It is only when the subject has been looked at unscientifically, when Spirituality. 73 men have been thrown off from the hard, dry exte- rior of selfishness, superstition, and formalism to the blind zeal of fanaticism, that any hint of reproach has fallen upon it. In this latent spiritual preroga- tive, men have ever found a refuge from what was false or cruel. They have even accepted the reproach of science, and delighted to be as lawless and ungov- ernable in this expression of their nature as the power which oppressed them was mighty in its mechanical certainty. Oppression has always been the parent of unreason and license in the sphere of spiritual things. The reaction from the icy logic of formalism is a fiery enthusiasm, as faulty in expression as it is true in spirit. Hence, much of the distrust under which the facts of the spirit rest in the eyes of the scientists. Hence, even, much of the sadness and want of relation between outward fact and inward ideal in the minds of those who have given themselves up utterly to spiritual standards and pursuits. They have failed in the first instance in allowing that they were cut off from nature, or in any sense out of harmony with or antagonistic to the most law-abiding expression of life the universe can reveal. There has been something forced and unnatural in their refinement, setting them off one side from the sphere of order and harmony and health, of which nature is our nearest embodi- ment. It has often seemed as if to be abnormal, iso- lated, and unsympathetic were thought to constitute the necessary condition of spirituality. Only base- ness could be associated with anything connected with 74 Ecce Spiritus. the body. The spirit was divine, and hence matter was to be cursed, physical laws neglected, and even health ignored, so long as aspiration remained. It must be understood that one law runs through the various spheres of man's nature, the highest ex- pression of which is spirituality. This latter is only the co-ordination and completion of even physical law. The creation was one, and the law must be one also. There can be no true sj^irituality with- out health, or at least the appreciation of and struggle for health. It means full and harmonious develop- ment from the basis in the body to the loftiest reach of aspiration in the soul. It means respect for the universe and every law thereof, and reverence for, not rejection of, that physical being which is so closely allied with and typical of the spirit. It is a unity of laws otherwise at war with and subversive of each other. It enlarges instead of narrows the sphere of possible enjoyments, takes the despair out of poetry and the lamentation out of religion. Its highest ex- pression is a free, healthy sympathy with life and law everywhere. Reverencing all spheres of creation, it is uncompromising in its devotion to the highest. It has a tendency away from all incompleteness, but it is no craven's flight. It is rather like the sustained passage of the bird, which keeps the nice proportion in its outlook between a world never lost to view beneath and the boundlessness of immateriality above. Perhaps no well-known character better illustrates this incompleteness of conception than the poet Schil- ler. Side by side in his experience, we see an extreme Spirituality. 75 spirituality, an uncompromising pursuit of high ends, and an attendant want of relationship to the lower and basal facts of his nature, which resulted in distor- tion and unhappiness. While we are ourselves so far from a true understanding of spiritual laws as to feel that nothing could in his case have been more natural and inevitable than such a result, we profoundly ad- mire the man's exaltation of mind, and that singleness of aim which counted suffering as nothing to the ac- complishment of enduring ends ; but we also confess that all this was attained at the expense of breadth and naturalness, that a resultant want of harmony and a sharpening of the sense of failure, in short, a certain narrowness of spiritual conception, must of necessity have followed. The criticism begins in the fact that Schiller, and such as he, have loved the higher to the exclusion, nay, to the abhorrence, of the lower. Instead of har- mony on a more comprehensive plane of understand- ing between the spheres of man's nature, a warfare has been introduced. Instead of giving a basis to aspiration in the reverent study of natural laws, spirit has been pitted against matter. What wonder that, too often wounded to despair in the unequal conflict, the former has been borne in conscious bitterness from the field of life! Thought and life, which should have been rounded out to fulness by contact and sympathy with the facts as they are, have per- sistently narrowed themselves to a purely ideal con- ception of a world and a humanity as they ought to be, in the fancy of poet or pietist. Health would 76 Ecce Spiritus. have come with the fundamental truth that this is God's universe, and not ours, and that our work is not to correct, but to cany out and complete it; that we are to study the facts, find the laws, and work out the harmony, rather than in scorn of the body God has given us, and in a disgust at men as they are, which is an insult to the Being who made them and us, to submit our souls to the torments of a spiritual alle- giance, divorced from the basal conditions in matter. There are manifold wants and miseries in men, which, while being strictly human, are not graceful in expression ; but they will be found full of an infinite grace to him who bends to their necessities. This is the first condition of even poetic truthfulness. There can be no artistic happiness where these con- ditions are ignored. Schiller himself confesses that the failure to see this had been one of the great mis- takes of his life. Carlyle has described the prevailing tone of spiritual coldness and isolation in Schiller's life in his description of the sort of hero Schiller most loved to paint. This type he finds in Posa, whom he pictures as " towering aloft, far-shining, clear and cold as a sea beacon." "In after years," says Carlyle in comment, " Schiller himself saw well that the greatest lay not here. YTith unwearied effort, he strove to lower and widen his sphere." The fine spiritual culture of a Channing came to the same result. After intense suffering and a life-long isola- tion, depriving him of a world of sympathies which even he could not afford to lose, Dr. Channing came to see the partialness of his attitude. His advice to Spirituality. 77 a young man was to get close to humanity, — an ad- vice which was emphasized by the confession that, if he were to live his life over again, he would mingle more unreservedly among men of all classes. Spirituality has tended too often to become fastid- iousness. Robustness and vitality have not charac- terized its expressions so much as aesthetic fineness. Delicacy of insight is not necessarily depth of vision, as removal from men is not always the condition of a higher humanity. The repose of the heights may be only negative. Certain it is that there is a repose, as there is an individual perfection, so unrelated to the warm and living realities as to be akin to death. There is a region, cold and sunless, that seems to be high simply because it is far from earth, but not nec- essarily on that account any nearer heaven. See how practically this extreme position becomes a fatal limitation in the sphere where it seeks freedom and harmony. In his JEsthetic Letters, Schiller dis- cusses the question of the advantage gained by man in his struggle out of mere animalism and his sub- jection to new and higher spiritual motives. Even while uncompromisingly true himself, and conscious all the time that he is himself the representative of the result he pictures, he yet declares that it is but the loss of " the happy limitation of the animal, and the unenviable superiority of missing the present in an effort directed at a distance." But let us notice the experience out of which such a discouraging** statement has come. Schiller asserts that sadness, and not health and harmony, is the por- 78 Ecce Spiritus. tion of the uncompromising. The trouble here was not in spirituality so much as in Schiller's particular illustration of it. With no disposition to forget the painful circumstances which hurried Schiller on to a forced productiveness in violation of the simplest laws of health, the fact must nevertheless be stated that a criminal neglect of the basal conditions of well-being and happiness lay behind that arraignment of spiritu- ality. He forgot to base his superiority in the funda- mental facts of nature, — the first laws legislated by almighty wisdom into the make-up of man, which even animal creation, in the sufficiency of instinct, the more rigidly obeys. He failed to see that the harmony of the highest will include that of the lower as well; and the pursuit of the ideal is only incongruous with the present, when it ignores and falsifies the bit of heaven that God has intrusted to every day. The fact of this inward depression in the face of the necessary conditions of existence was not due to the presence of spirituality in the case of Schiller, but to the absence of that respect and obedience to merely physical laws upon which lower and higher happiness are alike dependent. The mood of distrust comes with the unnaturalness, not with the idealism. " He forced his sickly body," says a recent writer, in speak- ing of Schiller, " so that the spirit should have com- plete control over his intellectual working power. With him was no hesitation, no jDatient waiting till the hand of Fate beckoned him on : he tore off recklessly the fetters which bound him to real lifer We all have in mind that pitiable picture of the strong spirit- Spirituality. 79 ual giant dragging that wronged and suffering body through the strain of night work in a defiance of nature which was based on a false and fatal stimulation. Surely, from such a source, though countless forms of poetic beauty may not fail to come, our last word upon spiritual possibility shall not be drawn. If Schiller had accorded to his nervous system one-quarter of the respect he paid to his spiritual nature, much of that sadness and want of relation between outward reality and inward ideal had disappeared. The testimony of poetry and religion has been jarred out of tune by this presence of a vast body of basal laws forgotten in the pursuit of abstract perfection and purely ideal ends. When spirituality shall have been reconciled with that law which our science is teaching us to revere ; when it shall have broadened and deepened as well as uplifted man's outlook, — it will then be a power making for the conscious increase of human happi- ness. The despair of idealism and the sadness of thought in our day, and in all days, has not been be- cause men looked too high, nor because the price of wisdom is necessarily sorrow, but because they have not looked broadly enough, and have not based the airy superstructure of their faith on sufficiently firm foundations. When the idealist is the one who has most profound respect for law everywhere, even in the body, he will become what he was intended to be, not only the most complete, but the happiest of men. The whole tone of past experience, all the writings and traditions on this subject, must be forgotten, and a new start taken. Spirituality has not yet had its 80 Ecce Spiritus. full and final expression. It is profiting by the condi- tions that science has created in modern thought. Though long held in abeyance, when it comes again, it will come full-orbed and powerful, with the facts instead of unreason in its appeal to mankind. Then, it will have no bitterness as the expression of disap- pointed ideals, knowing that the highest can never be lost, since it is a part of the evolution of apparently most insignificant material laws. It will be the sim of health and of a joy in nature which comes from the infinite enlargement of its sphere. No one will be thrown off from it by reason of the minor key of its utterance, but will welcome it as a way out of con- scious weariness and discord. No sigh of resignation will be taken as its true representative expression : it will turn earth's sadness into a song. Spirituality, then, is an attitude, an aim, an atmos- phere, a dominance of sphere. It allows degrees, steps in progress and attainment. It is a growth, but a final perfection. It has to do chiefly with the mo- tives and aspirations, the heart and centre of conduct. As it was in Jesus, it appears plain and full and many- sided; a calm assurance in himself, with certainty beyond. As seen in us, it is manifold in its phases, evolutionary and uncertain in attainment. But it is that which lies at the root of being, that which, above all the petty standards of men, a spiritual God must last of all consider in us. It is practical Judgment Day already come, deciding beyond recall the position we hold in the heavenly scale. It is the religion that unfolds and unitizes all things, harmonizing all con- Spirituality. 81 flicting forms in one supreme and common statement. There are many religious systems, but only one spir- ituality, which is the basal truth back of them all. Truly religious natures always find that they agree, no matter how widely they differ in theologic state- ment; and this comes the minute they touch the spiritual verities which underlie every honest expres- sion of faith. It is a great bond of brotherhood in the much-divided temple of the world's worship, doing away with nationalities and ecclesiastical dis- tinctions. In this, the schemes of redemption and retribution find their reconciliation. God neither rewards nor punishes, having much too mighty business on hand. He is no taskmaster nor apportioner of gifts. His law is large enough and perfect enough to take us back to him. The rest lies with us. But the law is no abstraction, no dull round of mechanical cause and effect. It is full of the tenderness and possible com- munion, which in truth may be said to be the law itself. It is fundamentally the condition of close and intimate relationship with God. It leaves out nothing of warm and helpful and personal contact. Least of all an abstraction, it is to him who is exercised thereby the most real and vital part of consciousness. We call the vehicle of our higher converse prayer, and it is well that we do ; but the vast significance of the word has not yet been understood. Men are still in the body of it, caught in the meshes of fine-spun sentences, with the heart of the reality too often left out. How simple the test of God, and how delicate 82 Ecce Spiritus. the power of infinite understanding, Jesus, that much- worshipping, but yet silent nature, illustrated! His life was a prayer, but how scanty and brief the ]3eti- tions ! How conscious the nearness and reliance, how certain the peace ! They, too, had their prayer- gauge and the measurement of husks. Jesus con- founded them not with an argument, but with the statement of a larger fact. There was nothing that they should not receive, if they prayed for it ; but no one knew better than he that prayer is communion, and has no favors to ask, — that it seeks oneness with, not concessions from, almighty wisdom and love. It is heart to heart, and he knows nothing can be denied to that attitude. It is close to the law of things, yearning to be one with it. It is the utterance of man's respect for God and his universe, and hope of final harmony with both. It would lay no finger on a single law of God, reverent to the last of divine pur- poses, and simply asking to get back where the finali- ties are, and away from the imperfections in itself. It is not an act, but a life ; a nearness, not an utter- ance, although it sometimes must speak. But, even then, the language is the least of.it. It knows that it is answered, has gotten all that it has asked for or can ask for in this way, when it has brought the soul back to God. When one has the Whole, he can surely want no more. When Jesus speaks of prayer, he has reference to those things in the sphere of prayer. He is ever inside the circumference, at the heart and centre, in his talk of spiritual realities. It is his supreme task Spirituality. 83 to get men's thought off from that which is outside, and rest it on the truest in themselves. The king- dom of heaven is within you, he tells them ; and so are all possible hells. The old questions of our child- hood find no longer a place upon our lips. He knows of heaven who has been in heavenly states, and no other one ever will know. Spirituality does away with all the theologic interrogatories. An answer must come to us out of the consciousness of experi- ence, or we remain baffled questioners on the spiritual outskirts. But more of this later on. This, how- ever, is here and always certain : that the realities of life, — that which lies nearest our consciousness, — find expression and fulness alone in the attitude of spirit to spirit, in the outpouring and incoming of such power and such love as are possible between us and God. CHAPTER VI. NATURE AOT> SPIRIT. It would at first thought appear that this idea of Christian power were inconsistent with the prevailing notions of scientific accuracy, that there were, indeed, no possible harmony between such a conception of spiritual religion and the facts of nature as we have come to know them. The reasoning of our age, an age of purely transitional work, which in finding the new has superficially abandoned the old without striving to discover the real truth and relationship between the two, has declared that the spiritual in- stincts and the understanding of man are antipodal extremes of the human make-up, capable of no recon- ciliation, and, wherever found, antagonistic to each other. Thus, a spiritual man may be good and poetic, and fit for a metaphoric heaven, but he can have no part in the nice system of law which science reveals as the fundamental condition of all things in nature. He is a mystic, a dreamer, an abnormal growth of the sentiments, cradled in the centuries of superstition. The scientific man may be accurate and profound, but his reliability is suspected the minute he begins to generalize outside of the well-understood sphere of cause and effect. Nature and Spirit. 85 But the fact is, spirituality is the outcome of the development of the very laws of man's being. He is not a creature of fixity on one side of his nature alone, but bound by a law as many-sided as his being itself. Moreover, the conditions, as seen in different spheres, here physical, there intellectual or spiritual, are in reality one condition. The law of human develop- ment is from lower to higher; but it is one law, whether seen in the realm of body, mind, or soul. It has manifold expressions, each perfect in itself, but none of them unrelated to the final crowning expres- sion to which all are subordinated. Man's spiritual development is in perfect harmony with the laws of Nature everywhere. It sympathizes with and com- pletes them. Nowhere can there be distrust or an- tagonism between the two. The facts to be especially noticed here are that spirituality in man proceeds ac- cording to law, and that, too, a fundamental law ; and that the lower is not only related to, but completed in, the higher law. Man's progress is from without inward. He begins a child of sense, pleased with material toys, satisfied with physical attainment. He never ends save at the highest, a man of the mature reach of the before latent but now regnant faculties of his spiritual nat- ure. We hesitate to call it spiritual, for fear of mis- understanding. We mean nothing but the man himself, simple and natural, untouched by the super- stitious, and every way in normal poise of intellectual and physical health. We mean the most thoroughly vigorous and most finely balanced manhood, with all 86 Ecce Spiritus. the vitality and zest and eagerness of life about it, a lover of the sunshine, and believer above all else in the progress of action. Then we ask simply for the highest and completest development of the being that this represents. How shall the unknown quantity, the potential man, appear? Where does he come into supreme consciousness of his powers and faculties, and realize himself so thoroughly and completely that he can never take a stej) further in sphere ? Where does he begin to subordinate on the one hand, and refuse to compromise on the other ? Manifestly, at the spiritual point. This is the cul- minating step in man's evolution, according to the strict laws of his being:. And this we have said is every way natural. It is not only the condition of his higher nature, but it began in and is harmonious with the laws of Nature as we commonly understand that term. The assertion is amply sustained by a full showing of the facts. There is no word of our language more misapplied in common use than the word "nature." It is made to mean something fixed and certain, something that can be defined and understood, in contrast to spirit, which is vague and lawless. Whereas, in point of fact, spirit is in almost universal use, as well as in fact no less clearly understood, and no less definable than nature itself. If we employ the superficial etymology which derives the word from the past participle of the verb nascor, referring it merely to that which has been born, to creation as an already created, fixed, and finished work, we may have the shadow of a support Nature and Spirit. 87 for a real distinction here. If, on the other hand, we trace the word back more carefully, and see how the structural significance of it when so found harmonizes completely with the position here taken, we shall say that the word stands in either sphere of spirit or mat- ter for precisely the same kind, if not almost the same degree, of knowledge and certainty. The fact so often asserted by materialism of the definiteness of nature, as well as its entire inference from this assumption, is seen to be false when we find our word rather in the future participle, a derivative from naturus instead of natus, and referring not so much to what has been born as to that which is ever about to be born, a future, unknown, untableted possibility, as becomes the creation of a God who is not dead, but as much alive and as truly creative now as ever. God is the only example of finished work, if, indeed, such a state- ment may be made of Him ; the rest, all the rest, lives and moves, and has its being in Him. It either answers this condition or is finished in the sense of being dead, which no creation of God ever is or can be. The ancients, though infinitely less scientific, were far truer to the reality of things when they made their word natura, than we moderns have been in our application of it. In their day of modest attainment, it was, per- haps, easier to see that nature is, as far as we can understand, a process and not yet a finality, than it is in ours of boastful but not over-discriminating attainment in the field of science. The last and greatest assertion of science is that nat- ure is not yet completed, and in no wise likely, even 88 JEJcce Spiritus. in the theories of the wisest investigator, to be soon understood or exhausted. We have a vast array of data, and know some of its superficial facts; but, until it ceases to be an infinite process, we can only hope to see the beginning. The most deeply learned can tell us nothing of the end. Indeed, the why and the whither are what we hear least about. He can indeed assert, with no longer any fear of intelligent contradic- tion that the world was never created, sprung out of no mythic Genesis period, but was only set in motion. It is still a naturus, still a development and an unknown possibility ; never natus, but about to be, in a procession never ended; something to-day which is only the con- dition for that which is to be yet farther on. So far as we can see, it is, like spirit, everywhere and always the great To Be. Is it winter? No. There is deception in the aspect of effortless sleep that suggests the name. In reality, it is all the time busy with the beginnings of spring. It is never spring, but always becoming summer. Even summer will not let you rest without continual hints that autumn is maturing in the lap of apparent freshness. At no point can you catch and fix Nature long enough to tabulate her. She has no seasons that are not pressing on to, nay, are very parts of others. The universe is restless and insatiable, and the solution of its secret is not yet. We talk of sunrise; but even the night is restless, and hints of day long before the sun has reached the morning line. Almost in the heart of the summer night there was a faint lifting on the eastern ridge, and there was something of morning Nature and Spirit. 89 even in the midst of night. There is no moment of its life, no spot of its changing surface, but tells of a world in motion, an eternal looking forward to some- thing which never is, except as a farther step toward that illusive fulfilment which can never be understood from any other than the higher stand-point. Science has made no approach to a comprehension of nature in a sense that satisfies the real craving of the mind for knowledge. It knows more of what there is in nature, but nature itself is yet as difficult to un- derstand and describe as ever. It is a " divine mys- tery," equal to any that true religion presents, a vague, vast potency, which our history and science are alike powerless to solve. It is simply God in outward ac- tion. Its laws and purposes are expressions of his will in the sphere of matter. We are permitted to see the process, but the heart of the mystery flies from us here as elsewhere. Even the reality of spirit is not more utterly beyond the full comprehension and the exact tabulation of man. Nay, it lies far nearer in to the centre of con- sciousness, with facts in its sphere fully as vital and certain, — indeed, much more so, — and a declaration of knowledge vastly more intimate and satisfactory than any investigations of science have yet brought. The latter can tell only of what it sees, with the limitations of that most delicate of all human organs, the eye, ap- pearing at every step ; while the assertions of spiritual experience, — the testimony of human consciousness, are a test of knowledge which is, to the individual at least, absolute. 90 Ecce Spiritus. Not only is there one common condition for nature and spirit, but it is, beyond this, true that they are in different realms of action one and the self-same thing, a power or expression of God, seen here operative ma- terially in the universe and the motions of man's phys- ical being, and there in the movements of his spiritual universe as we know it reflected in the life of the soul. Hence the strange illusiveness of our life : the sad- ness, the lack of co-ordination between inward ideal and outward reality, the dreamlike swiftness of its passage from night to night. If it is true that spirit- ually man finds no resting-place, has and is yet nothing final, it is equally certain that materially he is in a sys- tem of tireless change and progression, wherein no definite and fixed attainment of knowledge can stay and satisfy his nature. Nowhere is he a part of the natus, nowhere fully born into finished and sufficient conditions, but everywhere a motion of the naturus tending through lower nature up to higher nature, and never satisfied save in the All, the infinitude of blessed- ness and power. Hence, also, his outward sphere and surroundings are in exact keeping with the laws and conditions of bis internal structure. In both, he is natural. His nature is the possibility of a long line of development which begins in the first molecular motion of matter, and ends only with the very closest relationship in conscious activity of his spirit to God's. The laws of his body and his soul agree. Indeed, they constitute one law, with reciprocal working. He thus needs nothing opposed to nature to save him, — not less Nature and Spirit. 91 nature, but more. He is lost simply for the want of that fine relationship between the two spheres wherein are life and health and all possible human perfection. Somewhere, he will find the sinfulness of this ab- normal denial of nature. Sometime, he will see that to go counter to nature is, after all, the only unpardona- ble sin. It is the greatest crime of man's possible utter- ance against the Holy Ghost of God to say one word against the condition which he gave to man funda- mentally, as the one hope of reconciliation. When a man violates nature, he is estranged from God; and the vindication of all moral law lies in the renewed obedience. When a person does not know God, it is simply because only half his nature has been recog- nized or cultivated. Convert him up to himself, and there is no need of farther effort. We can trust the spirit to find God, the only trouble in the matter be- ing with the want of the former, and not with any doubt as to the existence or accessibility of the latter. It is, then, more nature that we need to fix and complete our religion. It matters not whether we say physical or spiritual nature : it is all one, with dif- ference only in the degree and sphere of exercise. The natural man is the spiritual man. The unspirit- ual is the only unnatural, the only lairfess, the only erratic one. There is no distinction between nature and grace. Nature is grace. It will save the unnat- ural and the sinful with the very health and healing that resides in God's sweet, pure laws. The grace of Jesus Christ is the normal growth of every soul out of low limitations and false stand- 92 Ecce Spiritus. ards of living into life and light. The sin against heaven, the only one for which God, in the presence of his laws which he has ordained to carry out not only his righteousness, but his mercy as well, will ever hold us to account, is the violation of one, even the simplest, of those conditions engrained in the structure of our being, by which the end of our exist- ence is attained and we come constantly nearer him. Jesus came solely for this, — to bring man back to nature, himself, his God. He offered no substitute for this, — not even himself, personally considered, as we shall see later on, — no sign and catchword, no ordinance and hierarchy, but only law in its whole- ness ; not lower nor higher, but One as from the crea- tive hand, and tending through manifold spheres and expressions to one great end. But the thought has many ramifications, nor can we yet say that we have in any sense exhausted the sug- gestiveness of the theme. TTe can, however, pause here only to notice one common error into which some of the best thinking of the world has fallen. In spite of all the enlightenment of science, the fallacy is still rife that man upon his natural side is perfect, and only comes to disease or death by reason of some failure in obedience to the laws of health. Nature, it is urged, — and the word is here used after the com- mon custom as synonymous with the universe of matter, — is perfect ; and, if man had never disobeyed, he would neither suffer, nor cease physically to exist. This is substantially the statement, with perhaj)s cer- tain modifications in the case of some thinkers, of a Nature and Spirit. 93 wide-spread feeling that there is something unnatural in disease and death, some disturbance of the plan which intended for man only an endless enjoyment of physical functions and an uninterrupted inheritance of the earth. Unquestionably, it is true that there is hardly any preaching more in demand at the present time than that which holds up a greater reverence for and obe- dience of the laws of health, to the end that the misery and needlessly premature decay of man's phys- ical powers may be arrested. Without doubt, health, happiness, life itself, are more truly in the hands of the race than we, in the light of our superficial moral- ity, are willing to believe, — but always within certain well-defined limits. Nature is perfect in her sphere, but her sphere is circumscribed. It is finite, and necessarily has a point beyond which no care, no painstaking, can carry us. Man physically suffers under a transmitted weakness and death-rate, which it must be the work and pride of his future science and religion to decrease. He is doing it now, and will continue to do it more and more by every sign of the times ; but, physically, man never had and never can have anything but a limited goal to his efforts after physical perfection. Indeed, his chief encouragement in the work comes not from a hope to be physically immortal, but from the fact which he will grow to see yet more and more clearly, — that this fulness of obedi- ence to natural law is the condition, nay, a very part of his spiritual perfection and his more essential con- tinuance of life. His desire and effort for obedience 94 Ecce Spiritus. will be the same, but bis point of view will be shifted from the material to the spiritual. But beyond all this there is in the current notion a gross misconception of nature as well as injustice to man. The traditional idea says that man was created perfect, but fell in Adam (which latter is in some sort a metaphor for an inherent but, it must be con- fessed, contradictory weakness of will and liability to sin), and was then redeemed substitutionally by Christ. But nothing is plainer as a matter of fact than that man was not created perfect. Nature, his influential environment, his own physical, and hence necessarily finite, constitution, were his limitations at the outset. lie fell in no Adam, but was borne along a sliding plane of inherent imperfection, which was to be the condi- tion of his development, the test and possibility of his virtue. And he was saved by what Christ can help him to be, from the past sin which spirituality sinks in dominant virtue, and from all future failings which through the same power can be averted from him. It must be that Nature is looking to ideal perfec- tion in the future, be it here or there; but, as we know her, she is but a finite possibility. Her life includes two principles, seemingly forever at war, but at last known to be but complemental parts of a great whole, — propagation and destruction, existence and death. While she keeps the germ of everything, she has no respect for individuality. In this sense, so far as physical faculties alone can see, she destroys. In this sense there is torture in her ministry to man. But it is Nature herself that surfers and dies. Nature and Spirit. 95 There is the epitome of every human sorrow or ter- ror in the universe itself. The world is bright and sunny and hopeful; but the world is troubled as well. Nature has sickness and health in a strictly unthink- ing sphere where no question of choice or will, as in the case of man, ever enters. The very laws of her being, with which no metaphoric Adam ever tam- pered, work themselves out in this reciprocal action of forces apparently opposed and yet really one. She is not always the embodiment of smiling fresh- ness and perennial vigor. She knows in the econ- omy of her life lassitude and inanition, times of weak- ness and days of spent vitality, when the whole aspect of the world is one of intense struggle or unmis- takable agony that rends the earth with efforts after renewed harmony, or a weary lifelessness that steals the tonic from the air and the very curl from the grass blade and the leaf. Nature goes on in health and freshness for a certain time; and then, out in the world, as in the body of man, the waste of active forces, accumulating, must be thrown off, and she becomes sick. Her very life is an alternating process of waste and repair. The former we call " death," the latter in its preponderance we call "life"; but it is the presence of both in proper proportion that in reality constitutes life in any of its strictly human forms. Nevertheless, this is the very thing that we call " disease " in man, causing disturb- ance and struggling and often desolation in nature. It is a process of death in her members. It is the normal way of purification, though here and there a 96 Ecce Spiritus. man dies or a tree is turned up rootless or a feeding ox is struck dumb in the healing process. The in- herent waste goes on accumulating to the limit which nature's finiteness ordains, and then the black €loud gathers upon the horizon, and the flash and thunder put man in awe of so stupendous a natural retribution in the very air. Or a sudden tempest goes forth, sweeping before it harmless forests and innocent men, both doomed alike of Nature in her integrity. Or a pestilence rages, that has no connection whatever with human remissness, as in the case of those which the early adventurers found in their second visits to this coast, when whole tribes of Indians had been obliter- ated or driven away, and the very face of the country for hundreds of miles of almost primitive wilderness showed the desolation. We can fi]l up the swamps and find in some measure the cure and preventive of malaria ; but it does not alter the fact that the earth has always been in and of itself subject to sickness and death, nor furnish sufficient ground for hope that it will not always have weak spots in its surface as well as contagion and destruction in its air. Nature herself does not die, nor, so far as we know, the race of man as a whole ; but the process of a continual ex- tinction of both animate and inanimate creation is the very condition of nature's life. Man never changed and never can change the fact. He has limits within which he can modify and improve these things ; but the real hope and blessedness of this lies not so much in what he can do to make earthly conditions perfect, as in the fact that he by his effort here is bringing his outward environment into harmony with his higher Nature and Spirit. 97 life, becoming, by the breadth of his obedience, natu- ral everywhere. So he founds and bases his religion. He is not at war with matter, but only labors to subordinate it to that which is higher. He knows that Nature just as she is, after man has done his utmost to avail himself of her fullest possibility, is right. The body is his special sphere ; and, although it may suffer and die, it is yet capable of spiritual domination. But his spirit- uality would not so much crowd it down as lift it up. It is higher than it seems, a fundamental part of spiritual nature. The unity of the ultimate end of both, and the community of law proceeding through both back to God, its originator, elevates and digni- fies this loftiest form of matter into something worthy even of spiritual culture and respect. The assertion that Nature in her sphere and possi- bility has limits does not conflict with what has gone before. So much is certain, but we have not yet de- fined those limits. The boundaries of even the finite have not opened out to us the fulness of this human possibility, nor its infinitely important relationships with spirit. In its sphere, it is fixed and determinate; but we are now hardly more than in the beginning of our comprehension of that sphere. Nature is simply the blank possibility of matter, just as spirituality is the unknown possibility of the soul. The truth is, no one knows so much of what the world is and contains as he who approaches it with the spiritual vision. Lower nature is fulfilled and completed in the higher. He is the true scientist who puts the facts together, and sees that, even in outward nature, which does not 98 JEcce Spiritus. reside in the mere proportions he can weigh and measure. Reciprocally, also, he is most genuinely spiritual who gets closest to the heart of nature every- where, who studies and sympathizes with the humblest expression of its law-abiding unity. He first subordi- nates sense that he may be truly sensible of the vast import of this world, as well as by that means also thoroughly spiritual. Thus, the outlook comes with the inlook; and the loftiness of his point of vision is the condition of his conrprehensiveness. This would constitute the spiritual scientist, the one for whom the world, already too long fed on husks, is waiting. And he will come at length, when his schooling shall have been completed, and finish the work of the stone- breakers. It was in harmony with such a view of nature, and in sympathy with law as seen in, but not monopo- lized by the outward world, that Jesus came, as the most natural of men, and comes again to-day. He is all in all spiritual, and yet through all natural. He knows no compromise, but infinite relation and adapta- tion. He is everywhere a lover of men and of nature, and in these supremely one with God. It is here that he rises to his kingship. He alone can take all crea- tion back, by no strain and stretch of purely natural symbols, to the Creator. It is here that he found his power; and here came to him his clear conception, nay, his realization of God. He learned little from the schools and the books; but his nature in the possi- bilities which he was supremely fitted to develop opened up the kingdom of God out of, not in opposi- tion to, the kingdoms of this world. CHAPTER VII. GOD OR CHRIST. In" whatever way we consider Christianity, it was of all religions the most radical. Not only did it strike at the roots of being, but, independent of all systems, it struck at the root of every existent con- ception of religious life. It was fearlessness itself, or, rather, it was that utter absorption in what it held to be true which allows no thought of consequences. Jesus was the king of sceptics, the prince of radicals. He absolutely disregarded the sanctity of the tradi- tional; while the fine flavor of ancient things, merely as such, had with him no sacred acceptance. He did indeed declare that he had come, not to destroy, but to fulfil ; and here it is that the tendency of the genu- ine radical is so commonly misunderstood. He was there for positive work, to build fairer and larger than any before him. But he must first clear the ground and prepare the soil for the reception of an entirely new growth. In all this, however, he was eclectic and comprehensive. He saw, what the mod- ern radical is coming so grandly to apprehend, the universality of truth, the necessity for finding in every outgrown fallacy or worn-out statement the germ of an unseen verity. He knew that truth be- 100 JScce Spiritus. longs to no man, is the exclusive property of no system. Every earnest mind and every honest for- mulation needs but a larger view infused into its localized or narrow statement; and he rejected no part of truth already uttered or put into practice. For the old, he seems to have had no undue respect ; but he knew that truth is old. He paid no reverence to tradition, but had no quarrel with the kernel of divine verity enclosed in the imperfect human shell. The law, in a certain sense, he accepted, simply because his was in no wise the work of a law-maker. So far as laws were needed, and could in their sphere be successful, he was satisfied with those already ac- cepted. With all their limitations and dangers, they played a certain rudimentary part in the elevation of the race. No more were needed ; and none could, on the whole, better answer the purpose they were there to subserve. They had already, moreover, a well-recognized sanctity, and, so far as they could substantiate what he had to enforce, furnished an au- thority universally acknowledged, to which he could appeal. Whenever the truth he uttered had already been made current with the stamp of Moses or the prophets, he did not hesitate to convict or coerce them out of their own sacred writings. He had no spiritual pride, no priestly arrogance. He was willing to share the message so far as it had in any degree been grasped by the holy men of earth. He was, moreover, steeped in the poetry of the Old Testament writings. His evident familiarity with them must have grown out of long and loving study ; God or Christ. 101 while his readiness to quote and apply relieves him, in all his iconoclastic work, from any charge of nar- rowness or jealousy. He was, too, Hebraistic in the character of his mind, as all his expressions show; and the bond of sympathy with the spiritual singers and prophets must, of necessity, have been great. He was not so. much unlike, as more than they. What came to them in glimpses, was to him a steadily shin- ing light. He asserted from daily consciousness what they barely hinted at in rare and only half-understood moments. But the poetry that colored his whole life, and ran through his every utterance, was a part of that Hebrew heritage which he shared in common with them. But the bent of his genius, the entire spirit of his work, was away from all such purely ethical methods. Indeed, Jesus has been as widely misunderstood by those who have narrowed him to the position of a merely moral teacher, as by those who have persisted in limiting Christianity to considerations of doctrinal and ecclesiastical efficacy. He found the principles of morality, largely the same in all times and under the various national systems of religion, already ex- pressed with sufficient pith and clearness. Their demands would not generally differ from those he as a moralist should make. Incidentally, he added a few, or put in more comprehensive form others which were vastly older than his own system; but this was not his object. The reason why they did not live up to their laws, why the work of the wise teachers they worshipped had become of none effect, 102 JEcce Spiritus. was not because they needed more or more perfect moral precepts, but because something else, vastly more radical and effective than ethical principles alone can ever be, was wanted. Their code was well- nigh perfect ; but it was written in stone, while he stopped at nothing short of a heart newly made over from the springs and beginnings of conduct to the crowning expressions of the entire nature of man in vital fusion with the highest. He had no greater charge to bring against their law than that it left them dead. It was good as far as it went ; and he was glad to have it constitute a part of the ground- work, the bedplate, of his own more sufficient minis- try. The principles of morality are largely the prop- erty of the race, and the especial work of no one in particular ; and he does not need to proceed much further in this direction. But he does see that, while nearly perfect as a written system, Hebraism was abortive as a living and practical reality; that ade- quate motives were wanting to its proper exercise; that, in short, it was largely a dead letter on the statute books of the State. It was his to supply the needed soul to this shapely but corpse-like body. The law might stand, but, as one of the incidental effects of his own more positive work, it must come to new and larger significance. Spirituality is every- where seen in synrpathy with the highest morality, but it is infinitely more than morality. It is often the most ethical of men who deny both spirit and God. But Jesus, finding so valuable a legal system, ac- cepted its letter, at the same time that, as with every- God or Christ. 103 thing else, he filled it out with the spirit of his own diviner work. It remains, however, theirs, not his. The characteristic bent of his own calling must not for a moment be confounded with the more super- ficial sphere of the projmets. " It is written in your law," he says, — not ours, nor mine, but yours. All this was in perfect keeping with the brave and comprehensive task he had set himself to do, which was nothing short of the most positive assertion of the one essential truth of God, joined to the most catholic and liberal spirit toward every form and ut- terance of it, however partial, which it had taken in men's minds. The singleness of his aim in nowise suffered from the breadth and inclusiveness of his vision. It was no truer of him that his eye penetrated to the supreme centre of truth than that it rested as well on the outermost rim of its vast circumference. And this is the one fact, taken in connection with the quality of his message, and the utter thoroughness with which it was carried out, which has given him his perpetuity of influence in the face of infinite per- version. Least of all disputatious, he saw and used everything which in any degree made for the estab- lishment of his end. He was eminently, though not narrowly, practical. For, while directly at war with the logical results of the Jewish law in social and in- dividual life, he could yet declare that he had come not to destroy, but to fulfil its unseen or forgotten spirit. He saw alike the surface and the centre, but it was the latter alone that he kept always in view. It is this method or spirit of Jesus which the Jews 104 Ecce Spiritus. found it most difficult to understand. He was so near to them, and yet strangely alien to their most cherished convictions; so sympathetic with, and so much a part of them, and yet, withal, so uncompromisingly antag- onistic. It was a Jew speaking to them in the com- mon tongue, with the very language of their own sacred fathers ; and yet what a strange, incomprehensi- ble message ! Abraham, Moses, David, or Isaiah might be heard in what he said ; but his strain was not of them, and never rested with their words. Nay, more, it said nothing about himself, except as he chose to consider himself in the light of an instrument or a re- flection or a something outside himself which makes for righteousness in all men. It was not his own strong individuality which pushed his opinions, but his opinions, vitally fused and peculiarly imperative, which made him what he was. The strength of his endowment was in the intense and personal relations he enjoyed with God. With him, it is everywhere God that must be considered. They must not even call him good. There is only one good, and that the Father. But here the spirit of Jesus has been equally mis- understood by the Church, which has since stood, to a great degree, in the precise attitude of the people of his time. It cannot harmonize with the radical method of his thought, but stops on the surface, refusing to un- derstand the obvious intent of all his words. It has said, and still says, that historical Christianity is a truer criterion of Jesus' intentions than the primitive and unformed spirit itself, which stands to-day just as it God or Christ. 105 did when first perverted, as plain and as much a first- hand source of authority to us as to the earliest synod that ever met. It says practically, in answer to the question what the Christian Church is to effect, that the end and object of all is Christ. He taught a per- verted humanity, a way of salvation, and a possible heavenly state ; and all this is only another way of say- ing Christ. He taught himself, whom we are to ac- cept, to live with and for, to cat and drink, to serve in some especial sense, as Head and Lord and King. Jesus, on the contrary, insisted on one thing, the immanence and mightiness of God. And his concep- tion of Deity was not only strong and forceful, but also new and original. There was no real God in the universe until him. He had neither faith nor fellow- ship in the abstract Jehovah of Jewish thought, a be- ing relegated to a realm so far distant from any actual, every-day comprehension as to be practically of no ac- count save as an intellectual conception. This being, whose name could have no place in their common speech, for fear that utterance would contaminate its sacredness, to mention whom in any conscious sense of human relationship became a sacrilege, was no part of the paternal discovery that Jesus made out of the needy and loving depths of his own soul. The blasphemy of his familiar expressions of nearness and love startled them into fear and hatred. It was not anything he claimed for himself, in his assumption of the Christ, that aroused their opposition, but his un- righteous handling of a name they themselves hardly dared to speak. The pure, living, regnant theism of 106 JScce Spiritus. Jesus was the chief cause of all the bitterness that assailed him. He was there, not to supplement the statute-books in their bald statements of the fact of Deity, but by reason of what he himself knew of God, because of some positive certainty. It was a different God, as well as one realized in his own consciousness, which he brought to their knowledge ; an entire change of attitude toward Deity, and the relations which man sustains to him. Before Jesus there was a God, but no God-companionship, no genuine and tender com- munion. He took religion out of its abstract relations, and made it living and effective. He not only en- larged, but realized the highest conceptions of Hebrew faith. It was not so much the might as the nearness of God; not his power, but his presence, that he saw and rejoiced in. lie first established the family rela- tion in religion. Father and Son are the words he loves best. He revels in his own assertion of sonship, coining his highest title out of the simplest realities of his daily communion with God and man. He could afford to ignore their short-sighted charge of bringing God down to men, since he was only conscious of the effort to lift men up to God. He was not here to state, but to realize; not to define God, but to deify man. It was a larger, not a less divinity that he saw. And he saw it with a single eye, and with the one sole aim of bringing men to the point in spiritual expe- rience where he himself stood. He first prayed, and set that divinest prerogative of man's nature in its true light, not as a delegated and formal function, but the nearest and simplest and most natural exj>ression of God or Christ. 107 human life. With a breath of his honest and manly courage, he blew away cant and script and priestly in- tervention, and said, Let the coming be heart to heart. He taught God first and last of all, keeping himself at the same time as far as possible out of sight. They had no claim through him, but a privilege and duty in and of themselves. It was his aim to awaken them to the life in the developed possibilities of which lie the necessities and certainties of spiritual communion. He called out the God in them, so long dormant, that now revealed to them their true selves. Then he as quickly and silently as possible withdrew. In the light of these facts, the answer to the ques- tion as to what constitutes the true Christian is sim- ple and sure. Xot he who worships Christ, but he who worships the Father. Every earnest, honest God-worshipper, even if he never utters, nay, even if he never heard of, the name of Christ, is a Christian. He is and must be one with Jesus, amenable to all his methods, and inspired toward the peculiar kind of ex- perience which dominated all his development. A chance, then, for the nameless, Christless God-wor- shipper of every land and time! The ban of the churches is dissolved, and every childlike heart comes back to the consciousness of a genuine and tender communion. Nay, more, even he who, while at peace in conscious nearness to the Father, believes himself lost and utterly unfellowshipped in the great com- munion where he would gladly bear his part, now comes to stand beside the "lonely Jesus,'' admitted into that inner, smaller circle which is presided over 108 JEcce Spiritus. by his spirit. He who, in the tenderest of religious relations with God, feels himself forced to renounce the name which has been burdened with so much nar- rowness and falsity, again rejoices in the title of Christian, from which no bigotry without and no honest scruples within need longer estrange him. If he knows, loves, serves God, he is the only Christian. He may drop the word from his vocabulary, if he will : he cannot lose the fact. He is what Jesus was, and the heir of all his influence, the rightful owner of every privilege his name confers. There is something singular in this word, which has been so long an all-powerful shibboleth in the world. It has been of vast import in the history of the past eighteen centuries, ranging in significance from geo- graphical and political distinctions to the arbitration of personal opinion and experience. Its force has been felt not only in the privacy of the heart, but in the entire course of human development. It has even gone beyond the mysterious line that sepa- rates life and death, and laid exclusive claim to the prizes of eternity. It has been secularized, and prostituted to a thousand uses, and stands to-day in the minds of millions of people the test of worthiness here and happiness hereafter. And all this in the face of the fact of the utter want of assumption on the part of him in whose honor it is worn. To be a follower of Jesus is with him to worship God, to be consciously and vitally related to spiritual things. The objective point in the distinction is God, not Christ. There is neither desire nor demand on the God or Christ. 109 part of Jesus that his name should be used as a watchword, except so far as it may be helpful and inspiring. His is the way, the truth, and the life: make them ours, and we shall, like him, be one with God; and nothing further is required even for the fullest Christian fellowship. It has been this which has occasioned the frequent willingness on the part of conscientious thinkers to renounce the name altogether; to exalt comparative religion over the claims of any narrow and sectional school. The significance of the name has been stretched too far; and the spirit of Jesus, offended in the literalism of his would-be followers, transfers its sympathy to those who in brave honesty stand entirely apart from the perverted symbol. But the word is, after all, but the body of something which the later, fuller Christian thought labors to fulfil. It is the bald literalism which no completer spirit can afford utterly to ignore. The spirit can get outward, and cleanse and purify and make new the distorted symbol. The real Christianity exists, breathless and unnoted, beneath the worldly systems that have sprung up in its stead. It is the Hercules that will yet rise up to sweep out the Augean stables of its own great corruption at the hands of men. It will save all the false establishments, the work even of the make-shift synods, by the necessity it will force upon them to be born anew. It is the corrector of its own abuses, and hence a perennial power in the world. There is, however, one more test that Jesus gives, beyond the fact of intimate and loving relations with 110 JEcce Spiritus. the Father ; and that is the possession of the Christ- like spirit. "If any man," says Paul, "have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of his." He cannot be a Christian, and keep any narrowness and exclusion. The spirit of Jesus is everywhere free and liberal. The method and object of his work alike forbid any fatal limitation of the term in its application to all truly religious beings. It is his work to bring to- gether, not to separate, the spiritual elements. There may be outward dissension in the day when the first struggle from lower to higher necessarily becomes a battle, but the ultimate drift of his influence is toward the reuniting; of all on the higher and more enduring plane. He is to re-establish the spiritual family, so long and cruelly divided. In him, all are to be one in God. The radicalism of Christianity more fully appears when we pass from its relations to the ages of tradi- tionalism from which it sprung to the present, and see how broad is its essential sympathy with the hon- est iconoclast of to-day. We feel that Jesus now, as of old, is with every conscientious protest, every profound yearning for free, untrammelled light and life. The simple bond of brotherhood that welcomed all who were willing to live his life, without the slightest reference to doc- trinal qualification, reaches down the centuries of inevitable human formulation to us, gathering all earnest souls into the capacious fold of Christ; but only the positive and constructive, only the reverent and comprehensive. Radicalism too often is born God or Christ. Ill out of the exclusiveness that dwarfs and kills. There- fore, it must have no sneers and no reprisals, but open arms and the sweep of the horizons in its outlook. It must be, like the radicalism of Jesus, a cry for more, not less, a progress from negation to fuller affirma- tion. The higher form is always the more inclusive, and the drift of divine things is never toward a nar- rowing, but rather a broadening out. But there is this never to be forgotten in the posi- tion of the independent, in the student of comparative theology who scorns all names in his sufficient theism, that, acknowledge it or not, as he may, he is yet, in all his spirituality, the heir of the Christian centuries. He may say, and say truly, that his religious expe- rience is so vital and personal, his relations with God so direct and conscious, as to remain intact, even if the Bible were lost, and the whole Christian record proved a myth. But when he inquires into himself for the sources of his spiritual insight, when he asks whence came the fulness of God knowledge which makes this ultimate independence possible, he is met by the fact that he is what he is, because Christianity, which has modified the thought and life of the race, was born in him, and was unconsciously absorbed in all the pro- cesses of his education. Enough of the spiritual princi- ple of Jesus inheres even in the falsity and superficial- ness of ordinary interpretation to have made transmis- sible all the higher expressions and experience of our race. Christianity has been so far forth true to its pur- pose that it is in some sort possible in these days to live without it. That is to say, one can be, nay, must be, 112 Jficce Spiritus. genuinely religious and like Christ spiritually, if he thinks and lives at all on the higher j)lane, by reason of the now structural, the inborn and unconscious bent which the ages of Christian influence have supplied. He cannot eradicate the fact from his nature, though he may have lost the original source of its operation. Jesus has so far taken possession of humanity that, even if he were historically disproved, he would ever} r - where be found actually present. This is because the real Christianity is deeper and more essential than the apparent one. It is the Christianity born in us that thus defies the more superficial one of the creeds. The fact is, Christianity has fathered all our radical- ism. Out of its own truest impulse has come the courage to reject a symbol falsely interpreted. It has tinctured our hereditary thought, given us new eyes and minds and motives, until, at last, so near in to the centre of being does it lie, we neither know it from ourselves, nor suspect that it is speaking even in our honest protest or denial. It is written all over our history, and in the more imperishable life of the soul. It had its birth anew when we were born, and in us answers as of old, with its unquenchable fire, the flame of society's fagot. We can go far, but not far enough to escape it. The elevation and honesty of all things confess it. Only the charlatan and the depraved are without something of its saving power. Nominal independence of it may be virtual reliance upon it, while acceptance of it breathes in every true theist's prayer. Wherever men come to God in genuine and conscious communion, it is witnessed anew. It is rad- God or Christ. 113 ical, at the roots of being, because it is the only ade- quate conception of life, the only actual realization of God. In these two spheres, of God and self, it has found the double solution that has ever eluded the search of man. It makes plain the cause and the con- tingent, and the arithmetic of the soul is henceforth within the power of man to solve. CHAPTER VIIL DOCTRIXE YS. PERSONAL ENDOWMENT. We have found that the answer to our question, What is that of which Jesus stands the representative, resides in the emphasis he everywhere puts upon spir- ituality. This he enforces as originating cause in all things, as a sufficient philosophy for all the needs and problems of life, and as an ever-present destiny, here and now and everywhere and always. But the statement becomes bald and inadequate, a mere formula, until we take a step further, and ob- serve how it is that he illustrates this vast principle, so as to take it out of the sphere of abstract things into that of living reality. It does not answer the requirements of a supreme mission, such as Jesus had, to say merely that he taught spirituality. A man can be a theorist in every other department but that of life; but the minute a theory finds acceptance there, it begins to take definite and vital form as a part of his very self : the higher it is, the more cer- tain that he will henceforth enforce not it, but him- self. Especially is this true of spirituality, which is the crowning and all-inclusive verity, the only pos- sible reception of which becomes not a statement, but an embodiment of itself. Doctrine vs. Personal Endowment. 115 Our needs here being not abstract, but practical, it follows that something more than the most conclusive statement of truth is essential to their satisfaction. Even heaven, with its perfection, does not wholly meet the present case, which has a want as well de- fined and legitimate as any which the future is des- tined to create and meet. Jesus saw the folly of abstractions, the inadequacy of the most perfect state- ment of truth. The best conscience of the Hebrew race, sifting down through a mass of trivial and cor- rupt history, had crystallized into dead forms and meaningless observances. Truth stood on the stat- ute-books, and there was worshipped. Association rendered the loftiest utterances of prophets and mor- alists and spiritual poets sacred, until the people had sunk so low as to wear bound upon their foreheads that which had little relation to their life. Not only was the real heart eaten out of religion, so that spiritual want went unsatisfied, but there also began to appear the danger of a positive moral insincerity. The priest himself was deluded in deceiving others, positively demoralized in the negative wrong he did to them. Jesus marked this present death resulting from formalism, and, further, the irresistible tendency of human thought in general to render truth value- less by converting it into the dead letter of a set, prescribed system. He saw the danger of all del- egated authority, and indeed especially in spiritual things, and accordingly sought not only to impart a life which should be unorganized and perennial in its freshness in his own time, but to enunciate 116 Ecce Sjriritus. a principle which might ever act untrammelled on the minds and hearts of men. It is not necessary to pause here upon those evident perversions which came into the Church as soon as the impression of the personal influence, the spirit, of Jesus, had become faint enough to allow of organiza- tion. That evangelical Christianity is widely sepa- rated, both in spirit and teaching, from the pure, simple principle of Jesus, — however true it may be to a post-apostolic Church, and however serviceable, in want of a better, — even its candid adherents them- selves admit. The Jewish system was the strongest religious organization ever seen, and Jesus had studied this in full operation and completeness of result. He saw doctrine deified on every hand, and the question of right merged into that of legality, until there was no room left for either genuine rectitude or conscious spiritual life. Religion was but a faint germ of pos- sibility in the hard shell of formalism in which it was enclosed. He was necessarily forced away from all this. The exigencies of his own peculiar work and ideas would have stood one side, opposed and antipodal, even if the barefaced failure of Judaism to effect any worthy re- sult had not been plain to see. From the side of ex- perience, as well as from his own truest instincts, came the command to teach no system of doctrines, to make no formulation of living truth into the dead letter of a creed. The disciples were to spread his gospel among all nations ; but an understanding of that gospel as it was in him gives ample denial to the supposition that Doctrine vs. Personal Endowment. 117 he even dreamed of an ecclesiastical hierarchy founded on his name. He did indeed see the danger of this, the inevitable human tendency to monopolize the per- son of the announcer of truth for purposes of outward aggrandizement ; and it was especially to prevent this very thing, which afterward took place, that he left his truth unformulated, in the hope that it might rest in the heart and life. He knew the very fact that he had set his influence against the dead forms of his own day would furnish future generations a lever with which to lift themselves to what they would consider purer phases of organized power. He foresaw that his name might readily become a catchword, about which to cluster fresh abuses of the spirit which he lived to liberate. Often and again, he beseeches them not to be deceived with false prophetship, brought in his name, to the establishment of new applications of his teaching. Indeed, his forecast of the future, and his fine understanding of the immense leverage there is in a truly good and popular name, evince great natural acumen as well as comprehensive observation of life. It is difficult for us to understand the rigor of He- brew ritualism, the iron rigidity and mechanical com- pleteness, the absolute finality of its unquestioned let- ter. But the moment it is seen what utter spiritual lifelessness went side by side with its perfection of form, the aptness and timeliness of Jesus' word and work are realized. One needs to go back into the repressive atmosphere of the time, and live and strug- gle and surfer and starve as men's souls did then, to appreciate the coming of his great, free, light-loving, 118 JScce Spiritus. and life-bringing nature. He can only approximate to this by a poor comparison of the life to-day, and an observation of how far the honesty, the faith, and the freedom even of our time are crushed out by the unyielding systems of the Churches. He will then come to see that the essential principle of primitive Christianity, which is the only power that can prune off these false growths and excrescences, is just as possible and potent to-day as ever. If not so, he will ask, would not Christianity be outgrown ? It must be this, out of ordinary sight, and least suspected by those who arrogate to themselves the sole possession of the Christian name, that has kept Christianity, in spite of all perversions, still powerful and respected. Men are too much burdened in their progress to long carry worthless treasures. The house- hold gods, disproved and put to shame through pa- tient trial of credulity, are soon thrown away. But, notwithstanding all of Christianity that has been de- nied, there is something in it which the most critical cannot help reverencing, as well as something which, even in extreme dilution, is able to continue and bear up under a mass of falsity and error. The Church has changed, and is still at war among its members. The papal and Protestant arms divide, and know not of the doings of each ; while the unnoted or forgotten heart of Christianity beats faintly underneath. This was the supreme test of its power, to endure unspent, and with perennial possibility of renewed and renew- ing purity, through all the ages of misconception. Doctrine vs. Personal Endowment. 119 And it is this undercurrent, this buried river of un- expended influence, that bursts the surface now and then to show that Christianity is a deathless adapta- bility to the needs of life. It speaks to our time, and summons it, as of old, to freedom and freshness of spiritual being. But it does so distinctively in oppo- sition to everything formal. It must remain a princi- ple, a spirit, a life.. It will body itself forth in us, but will not itself be bodied. It will tend toward forma- tive results, but will itself remain unfettered. We can cage the bird, but are by no means sure of catch- ing his song. There are some things which cannot be imprisoned. Religion has been nicely locked behind inclusive dogmatical bars, but the spirit prisoner has oftenest refused to sing. And this, too, the higher up we go. Comte's re- ligion of humanity, or Confucius' worship of ances- tors, or the Moslem's faith of Mahomet, will find a statement far more readily than this spirituality, ut- terly unsensuous, of Jesus; although, doubtless, each of these may have at heart a certain reality, which we should lose in any attempt to deduce them from their most elaborate verbal record. Hence it was that Jesus absolutely ignored system- atic statement, announcing neither creed nor dogma, and making no formal test of faith. Every saving ut- terance on his part is the statement of a principle broad as life itself, and, like life, impossible of tabu- lation. The heart, the mind, the life, can hold and transmit it, — the books, in more than a slight degree, never. If Jesus had attempted this too common 120 Ecce Spiritus. experiment, and left us as his only legacy such a sys- tem as we now have attributed to him, it would be seen that, when the form and finality of a set doctrine had been worn away by the attrition of modern pro- gressive thought, there would be nothing left to save and rejuvenate it. It is manifest, at the outset, that religion must be a soul, not a body. There must be no sign of limita- tion about it. It is essentially the heart of life, the unseen centre of perennial interests, and is itself peren- nial. It recognizes the practical need of organization, but on a vastly different basis from that which the Church has commonly held to be essential. Jesus him- self organized his followers for the spreading of his grand but eminently simple gospel of life, without one reference to dogmatic qualifications or technical means of impressiveness, but with every insistence on themselves as living and practical embodiments of that which they did not so much have, as, in a truer and grander sense, was to possess them. The test of their discipleship was this mastery of a mighty life- principle in their members, their words and deeds. The entire sphere of their influence was to be com- mensurate with this. It was the lodgement of the truth in them, as they had seen it regnant in the whole nature of Jesus, that was to send the gospel home, not to the thought, the intellectual allegiance alone, but to the lives of men. It was the failure of religious organization on the basis of dogma that Jesus saw and insisted upon first of all, — the inadequacy, nay, the positive harm and Doctrine vs. Personal Endowment. 121 wrong, of demanding, in beings born into distinctively different temperaments and intellectual leanings, one and the same expression of faith. He would bring individuality of thought into sympathy of life and effort, and organize on the basis of work, charity, helpfulness, and peace. He was no impracticable dreamer to ignore entirely the need of combined and outwardly equip ped effort ; but it was humanity he considered, and no sect in its sinfulness, its virtual denial of him, setting itself apart and condemning the honest dogmatic difference of brothers united to them by a common spiritual bond. His idea of organiza- tion had in it nothing hostile to the most marked individuality, and his life does not record a single in- stance of difference in opinion rebuked by him. The persecutors for opinion's sake have served the Christ of their own hearts, rather than the Jesus who preached the spirit so unassumingly, and with such almost utter absence of doctrinal limitations. So far as we can see, there would be nothing incon- sistent in any form or ordinance which remained such in the mind of the Christian. But no one saw with clearer demonstration than Jesus the danger there is in these things. He knew human nature and its irresistible tendencies, and had marked how the efficacy went out of the formularies the minute they were considered saving. And then came the convic- tion, arrived at intellectually, as well as instinctive with him, that the truth untrammelled, and left to have free course and sway, is better than the best statement fossilized into a dead form. His organizar 122 Ecce Spiritus. tion, therefore, was one of mutual and charitable helpfulness in spreading the one true Life, rather than in compulsory allegiance to a fixed and inelastic creed. In his system, if we may give such a name to the Christianity of Jesus, he evinces no ambition to settle all the questions of the universe ; and any one may well suspect any assumed Christian catechism which goes outside the sphere of spiritual things. The final conclusion of the last scientist will not be found to be less, but more in harmony with the entire teaching of Jesus. His spirituality can never enlarge as a conception, except in the comprehension of man: it is, and was, the one and only way back to God and life. But the boundaries of man's knowledge in the sphere of God's creation cannot widen out to such proportions as not to be in accord with this unwritten but necessarily limitless creed. Jesus has and need have no quarrel with his Father's universe at any point of its progressive development. It does not tend away from, but ever toward, the centre of his own revelation. It is here that all the prescribed faiths have failed, in their fear of new facts, and the inevitable want of elasticity in their fixed statement. Each has grasped a truth, and quickly shut it away from all possible co-ordination into the wholeness of truth. The creeds have come to us for selection, largely as a matter of choice. Which, on the whole, suits us best ? Personal peculiarity answers for each ; but when the choice has not resulted, as so often happens, in the fatal zeal of bigotry and narrow partisanship, the churched believer, Doctrine vs. Personal Endowment. 123 still unsatisfied in his exclusion, has been forced to steal the needed blessings of the complemental creeds. But Jesus sees that there is only one religion among the multiform theologies . God is one, and there is only one communion, worship, service. The spirit of it must ever be the same, however much individuality may modify its expression. He knows how quickly the influence of the polemic passes, his fabric of un- erring logic shattered in the movement of the world's progress. But the unspoken spirituality, which as a principle of life lies fallow in germinal possibility in every human heart, responding ever and again to the only touch that can move and inspire it, is as indestructible as being itself. It can never be left nor outgrown, but ever leads just in advance of man's loftiest attainments in knowledge. To have said that Jesus refused to be a theologian means much as to the method as well as to the sub- stance of his message. Thus, it would not be adequate to say that he taught spirituality. Without giving up any of the traditional reverence for the teacher, it may yet be said that his work is by no means the highest. From time immemorial, he who has exer- cised this function has received peculiar respect ; and surely in these days, when knowledge of all kinds is everywhere exalted, he suffers from no danger of a diminution of influence. Nevertheless there is a side of life upon which the importance of teaching, merely as such, has been vastly overrated. The instructor in morals or religion, or even in educational matters, must ever be subordinated to the inspirer. His very 124 Ecce Spiritus. position as such, at the outset, puts him at a certain disadvantage with those who feel themselves lacking in the excellence and acquirement that he represents, whereas the unconscious influence of a position that assumes nothing technical, and only rests its hope of irnpressiveness on the natural and living expressions of itself, is one of the most irresistible powers for good. Indeed, it is here that so many of our means of culture are cheated of their end. Those capable of moving, inspiring, touching with new eyes and hearts and minds and motives, are few in number compared with those who can merely impart separate facts. Knowledge can never be imparted, but only the im- petus to knowledge. One can really learn of another only the method and spirit of his learning. Nothing comes out from us which we have not first made our own, and intellectual possession is something that no one can give us by proxy. The presence of another's aspiration or ideal is not important to us because any part of it can be given in exchange for our attention, but sinrply because it stimulates and guides us to the creation and consciousness of our own ideal. It is not so much a positive factor as a negative, tending toward positive results in us. The decline and degen- eracy of the Jewish Church were begun in the day when the expounder of the law usurped the place of the inspired prophet. And in any day, when the mere teacher, the sermonizer, the religious logician, is everywhere sought and reverenced, a low, mechanical, and unspiritual outlook will not be far distant. Doctrine vs. Personal Endoicment. 125 Jesus sinks in our estimation the moment we make him a mere teacher. That he was such, incidentally and accidentally, is true. But that one who found a world starving, spiritually, under a most exact legal system and a punctilious observance of scholastic dis- tinctions, should make no attempt at systematic ex- jDOsition, might naturally be expected. And every attempt since to evolve out of his memorials an exact and final statement of doctrines has lamentably failed. Rival movements have sprung up, and made of the Church's work of evangelization a petty theologic warfare that has only served to perj^etuate the bitter- ness of sect. Jesus struck deeper than this. He assumed no ped- agogic gown, stepped upon no rostrum, and accepted no acolytes that were not able to live the life he did. The hand of anointing had been laid within ; and he had little to say, but vast life-issues to work out and enforce. His first and only disputation was in the temple; but all his positive — for he was ever grandly positive — and authoritative utterances were given in the fields or the living-rooms of humble people, into the sphere of which his earliest inclinations led him. Indeed, there has been nothing more painful to the countless Christians who have looked for light from him amid the inadequacies and cruelties of the creeds, than this paucity of utterance. Why did he say so little, where so much was needed? And yet more would have been too much. The minute he had formulated anything, we should stop there, and there would be no longer any hope of life. He gives us 126 Ecce Spiritus. the germinal truth, the all-inclusive principle, not in its abstraction, nor yet in its complete logical state- ment, if such a thing were possible of a living and eternally progressive reality, but in vital personal fusion. Make the life yours, and you have it all. But Jesus declines to do the work for us, and utterly refuses to surround the one pure spiritual influence the world has had with the dangers of attempted definition. Christianity must not be caught in a mesh of words, but must remain a life influence, tending toward life. We hear the sound of the spirit, and know absolutely of its reality and power, but happily cannot tell whence it cometh or whither it goeth, except as these things are in God. Jesus cared not where he gathered his congrega- tion. Indeed, it was always around him; and his method was the yet untried one of nature. He put his heart close to the bare, empty spots in human experience, and whispered low, or uttered forth in silence, the living language of that answer which had been wrought out in him. He did, in truth, enlighten and enlarge the comprehension of men, and infinitely elevate their outlook; but he was not a dogmatist, and had little to do with the teacher's superficial methods. He struck at the roots of being, using such instruction as the situation unconsciously required. But he was peculiar in this : that, so far as he was a teacher, he addressed himself to the very quick of conscious experience. He had a wonderful faculty, rare among the saviors, of keeping down to the vital need. He reveals himself in the fact, not Doctrine vs. Personal Endowment. 127 in the elaboration of his message. He addresses the experience and the motives with a subtler logic than that of the intellect, which the intellect nevertheless confirms and strengthens at every point. Jesns is the only character of history who im- pressed himself deeply upon human thought and life, and has had an enduring claim to grateful remem- brance simply by reason of what he teas. Unlike others, he cannot be contemplated outside of his work, nor can his work be separated from him. His work had become personal, and himself a doubly energized personality. Then for the first time in history appeared a man who was himself, utterly, wholly, unreservedly. The message he bore had become a revelation in and through himself, so that, while he in no sense elaborates spirituality, he yet lives and enforces it. What he said has value as teaching, but his mission was so close to life that it can be fully received only by some degree of spiritual contact. Spirituality is the only thing you cannot teach. The higher the subject, the farther is it re- moved from prescribed methods of instruction. We can teach letters, but not life. The latter impresses us more directly, turning mental processes into mo- tives. We can impart all symbols, types, and illus- trations of life, but not that illusive but most central reality which inheres in and appeals to consciousness alone. Consciousness can be quickened, awakened, formed, but not informed from any outside source. It can gain everything, but be given nothing. What another has, can never be ours ; but we may be so moved by him as in time to possess like realities. 128 JEcce Spiritus. _ Manifestly, one can teach nothing of God, except that which he himself knows; and it is one of the truisms of spiritual experience that what we know of God we can never tell. Our neighbors will in count- less ways discover the fact, which we shall shrink from even the attempt at uttering, just in proportion to the genuineness of our knowledge. Language is a wonderful vehicle in the hands of a master, but it utterly fails to circumscribe the facts of conscious- ness. The nomenclature of a nation is solidified long before its best experience comes; so that, in the dearth of fitting words, consciousness must needs find other and subtler means of communication. Even in the sphere of the commoner affections there is no language of the heart. What two people, keenly sympathetic, feel in communion, is revealed in no other way than by a silence which each, neverthe- less, fully understands. The word of intensest mean- ing would strike like a chill of avowed unworthiness on that eloquent stillness. Acquaintances, meeting, find no difficulty in expressing their formal interest in each other's welfare; but the nearer companion- ship, that is parent of the glory and despair of life, goes unspoken, in spite of all the novels and poems to the contrary. It would be indeed a hopeless task for him who would attempt to convey in words the deepest that he knows and feels. There can, therefore, be no school of the real the- ologies. What men have known of God is not in the books, but in the soul. What Jesus knew of God is not in the gospel statement, nor did he ever intend Doctrine vs. Personal Endowment. 129 that it should be. It was in him ; and we see it, feel it, know it wherever and whenever we meet him. In this sense, and it is the only essential one, Jesus has been given us in the Gospels with utter faithfulness. Though the writers erred occasionally in their inter- pretation, they never failed in the man. His message and meaning always shine out clearly through the partialness of their comprehension. The true science of God is in the processions of the soul. Experience knows, while our intellectual statements only hint at Him. Spirituality alone reveals and commands the spiritual ; and, for this reason, Jesus came a man of few words. Surface and show, and the elaboration thereof, were all around him; and he stood uncom- promisingly for a realization of that about which others only talk, and for an attestation of it which could never be perverted by the limits of a definition. CHAPTER IX. THE SELFHOOD OF JESUS. Not to incur the charge of abstractness, let us illus- trate the practical sufficiency of this method of Jesus. There are, in general, two ways in which goodness may be impressed upon others. We may draw nice distinctions and so define and exalt ethical standards as to create an intellectual appreciation and under- standing of them ; and this is good and helpful in a world so eager for helps as ours. But the goodness about which we ourselves say and know least, so near home to the modesty of personal possession does it lie, is the only real and potent mover of men to virtue. "No one knows, nor ever will know in this world, the sum of this silent influence. Personal virtue is never without its effect : it is felt everywhere and always ; while abstract morality, the assent of the intellect, has been too often divorced from adequate fulfilment to longer remain the centre toward which wise effort is directed. It is not what men get hold of, but what gets hold of them, that moves and saves. The mor- alist is the guide-board : the really good person is the savior. The soul of goodness and its real potency is in the being good. The ethical difficulty lies not in the theories, — the summaries and maps are all com- The Selfhood of Jesus. 131 plete, — but in the need of that which shall drive virtue out of the mere intellectual assent into the realization of life. With such a consciousness of his mission, it is evident that Jesus could not long hold the truth he had at heart in its abstractness. Indeed, it early took possession of him, and became so interwoven into the texture, not of his beliefs, but of his being, that it was structural, that which in certain relations he thought of and meant when he spoke of himself. Publicly, when speaking authoritatively to those who doubted or misunderstood his claims, he ceased to be the individual, the Jesus of their commoner moods of intercourse, and became the embodiment of that which absorbed and filled his being. So far as man- kind and his relations to it are concerned, he speaks of himself as Spirituality. It was a higher, not a lower, personality that he found in the designation of that sphere of his nature which dominated all the rest. They were all so individual on the misleading plane of sense that he passed all the more readily from the first person to the third in the assertion of a higher selfhood in the spiritual. It must, however, be understood that Jesus lost nothing, but only completed his self, in this apparent renouncement. Least of all would he have given occasion for those false appeals, made in the name of religion, which call upon men to crush out and deny the self, as something inherently base and misleading. Jesus did not in the best sense deny himself when he took up the cross, but rose from the lower to the higher 132 Ecce Spiritus. affirmation. He shows keen appreciation of individu- ality in others, studies and allows for it, and never un- derrates its legitimate influence. There never was a more thoroughly individual character than his, and never one that respected its peculiar self more, to the utter refusal of every thing which interfered Avith it. Self in its truer interpretation was what he was aiming at in all his work, to bring men back from aberrations to that supremely high and holy something in them- selves, which it is their especial prerogative to follow and fulfil. No false religion must for a moment inter- fere with this. There is neither beauty nor power in an abnegation toward any but positive ends. The true Christian can subordinate much, but relinquish nothing. One cannot follow God by giving up self, for it is the self that finds him. Jesus took no part in the old Jewish notions of sacrificial efficacy, — notions which speedily crept even into the system founded on his name in the later doctrine of the atonement. This we shall see more fully exemplified later on ; but, for the question in hand, it is sufficient to say that his progress is positive, from lower to higher, and not a negative throwing away of that which men are vitally and essentially, in order that something outside and arbitrary may take its place. Jesus had, as was necessary on his pinnacle and representative plane, two states of consciousness. Always, he was individual and personal, at his high- est, most truly and uncompromisingly himself; and ordinarily, in common intercourse, he was simply a man among men. In the second stage, when stand- The Selfhood of Jesus. 133 ing face to face with sense and sin, and feeling the force of reaction, he was exalted into the higher range of his consciousness, so that he now spoke of his life, his being, as spirituality. But, even here, he would be no abstraction. In him, that spirituality had been bodied, absorbed into personality; and hence it acted and spoke and influenced in him. He was it, and it was he. He knew that abstract spirituality is impo- tent. When it is embodied and utters itself authorita- tively from within, it becomes impressive as a practical salvation. Furthermore, he sees that the man must come and go. The Christ of their deepest expectations could move them only momentarily, to be soon superseded by another savior. He accordingly identifies himself with his cause. When he says, "I am the light of the world," he intends no self-stultifying egotism ; but, projecting his personality into the higher range of consciousness, he means that he has become utterly spiritual, and that spirituality is the light of the world. When he says, "I am the way, the truth, and the life," he airs no self-conscious vanity, and claims no worship of himself. There is no other way, truth, or life but that which was dominating Jesus as he spoke. Because of this regnant consciousness of his, he can truthfully assert, "All things are delivered unto me of my Father," by reason of this privilege he enjoyed of participation in the highest. And from that exalted stand-point he can see, as can no one lower down, how true it is that the higher includes and comprehends all that is below it. " And no man 134 Ecce Spiritus. knoweth the Son" — again the utterance of the spirit- ual consciousness, the truths of which men surely did not understand — " but the Father, neither knoweth any man the Father save the Son, and he to whomso- ever the Son will reveal him." Plainly, the creature who stands above, and representative of, every other creature in spirit and attainment, will be the only one who will approach a comprehension of the Creator. When Jesus speaks of himself as the Son, he almost invariably alludes to his higher spiritual conscious- ness, as the embodiment of that ideal toward which mankind is ever looking. He tells his disciples not to mention him to others as Jesus, the Christ, fearing the shibboleth that his name would shortly become. He asks nothing of men for himself, but everything for them and truth. What he stood for, lived, and died for, must not be lost to view in the worship of a sacred name. It was man-worship, and all other fast- ening of the soul's life to material symbols, which accounted for the too prevalent death. Standing as he does on the summit of human possibility, and con- scious alone of his divine mission, he sees only the supreme end, and everywhere ignores the instrument upon its human side. He moreover asks others also to overlook it. He demands this, even when he makes that simple but yet grand summing-up of his position, in answer to the doctrinal difficulties of Martha, "I am the resurrection and the life : he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live ; and who- soever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." It is the spiritual life that cannot possibly die and that The Selfhood of Jesus. 135 is here speaking to her. He means it in his command to the disciples to beware of false prophets, who shall say unto them that Christ is here or there, when he asserts that the coming of the Son of Man shall be not a localized nor a material affair in which they can rest their worship, but as lightning that cometh out of the east, and shineth even unto the west. The coming of the Son of Man will be that of spirituality, intangible and eternal, that lighteth up the entire sjDan of knowl- edge and of being. The same truth in continual reiteration runs through the Gospels. Jesus will be himself, at his best and truest. The Ego of the Son of Man is the utterance of humanity's highest. Spinoza catches the germinal truth of Christianity with far more insight and accu- racy than the mass of its professed representatives, when he says, "It is not absolutely necessary to know Christ after the flesh ; but it is otherwise when we speak of that Son of God, that is to say, that eternal wisdom of God which has manifested itself in all things, and more fully in the human soul, and, above all, in Jesus Christ." Let us not find fault with this position of Jesus, which may at first thought seem mystical and unsatis- factory. He found himself in the midst of countless difficulties. Beyond the fact of his own distrust of statements in the sphere of life, and the certainty of any spiritual utterance of his being misunderstood, — alike by perverted Jews and not yet sufficiently edu- cated disciples, — the force and fire of his own nature, the exigencies of those moods which were stirred in 136 Ecce Spiritus. him by the low outlook of humanity in his day, de- manded an utterance at once brief, authoritative, and uncompromising; and, if his language seems sometimes sublimated and inadequate for common comprehen- sion, it is because of the palpable and utter failure of the many forms of temporizing common in his day. Of all prophets, moreover, Jesus is the most far- sighted, and least likely to have confined his view of his mission to the necessities of his own time. An ideal for humanity must be one to lead all human progress, to inspire its study and effort forever; so high that the history of the centuries will be that of an ever-nearer approach to its comprehension and re- alization. This is why the power of true Christianity is perennial. Nineteen centuries, with their accumu- lated culture and their intenser consciousness, have only brought men a little nearer to the heart of its sublime reality; and the widening science and deeper personality of the future will be the key to yet clearer understanding of those apparently mystical, but eminently simple, statements of life as it was in Jesus. For his own time, they were sufficient as they stood. Wonder and childlike awe at any form of actual superiority, however imperfectly understood, had not yet exhausted themselves. What the world was not then prepared to comprehend was, neverthe- less, able to be a vast power of subjugation over the lower in its nature; while the advancing life of all time would find in its higher and completer statement a perpetual goal of promise and attainment. Nothing phort of this would have answered the requirements The Selfhood of Jesus. 137 of a mission such as that of Jesus, and surely nothing less could have furnished mankind with a truth which is ever an incentive rather than a sedative. It is not the truth simply and abstractly which Jesus has in view, so much as the truth embodied in life. The race is to work toward it, to make it its own, to iden- tify it with its entire growth. It is not for men as yet to say that they comprehend it ; they may now comprehend only its drift and purpose, its reality beyond everything else. It is not for us, even though with tears in our eyes, to complain that our consola- tions are not yet complete. They are enough, when rightly understood; and, for the rest, there is icork for us to do. We are not left to stagnate in our finalities, but are invited, nay, forced onward, to the blessed consummations of life. Jesus not only ignored the narrower sense of his personality when he appeared as an authority before others, but he desired them likewise to do so. He asks mankind to look upon a grandly poised selfhood, which found its supreme exercise in merging itself in the very highest. When he awoke to himself, and the awakening was very early, his whole nature became fused into the white heat of spiritual intensity. He saw the new, the needed, the vital work ; and all else slipped out of sight. Like every other great soul girded for a work of inspiration, — only supremely so in his case, as befitted the peculiar character and absoluteness of his calling, — he was himself not sunken in, but enlarged by, the thing to be done. It was identification and consequent increase of per- 138 Ecce Spiritus. sonality, and no belittlement, that came to him in his higher assumptions. In order to understand the peculiar make-up of the man, we must keep in sight the character of his object, and its accompanying influence on his life. This was of no ordinary kind, and held with no common devotion. It was not a part, however in- spiring, of the kingdom of truth, but the very high- est and most inclusive of all its realities. It was God, and all possible communion with him, and man at his hitherto unknown possibility, including the entire range of the vast thing so often named but so seldom understood as life, that he had in hand. To have been burdened with the secret of some farthest star on the boundary of human knowledge would doubtless have been much ; but to have come from God, and the one closest insight and communion ever vouchsafed to man, and from the outermost limit of life's unseen possi- bility, was an endowment so much greater than the highest common to men as to have eliminated the element of egotism from its possession. "Before Abraham was, I am," he asserts. Does he mean the man of their daily intercourse and understanding, the Jesus on his commoner side ? IsTo : he is speaking out of a present, all-absorbing, soul-consciousness, of a life principle in direct and eternal communication with the Father, which antedated all the centuries. The peo- ple about him are localizing their faith, shut out from all advancement by their willingness to bound their own insight by one narrow and occasional experience. He is forced out of all commonplaces into a supreme The Selfhood of Jesus. 139 and authoritative statement. He has not a word to say against Abraham; but, long before him and his incidental glimpse of God, spirituality, full-orbed and self-conscious, could assert itself to have existed. With that deep inlook which came to him in the fulness of his spiritual consciousness, he could well antedate all their petty limitations. There was and is nothing earlier than this. The secrets of creation as well as of destiny are in its hands. There is nothing to gain- say it. Jesus had now become wholly spiritual, and it was hence easy for him to assert his oneness with God. Out of his nearness to imperishable things, he could speak authoritatively of a life as unconscious of begin- ning as of end, earlier than the patriarchs in its divine origin and continuance, now brought to realization. The life of which he had become conscious waa the very life of God, once imparted and never by any possibility withdrawn, separate from which we have and can have no real existence. This he does not have, for he is it. Awaken men to it, and he claims for them a like newness of self-consciousness. They will not need to go backward nor forward, but will be superior to all considerations of time in the su- preme and present facts of existence. The moment of consciousness is of less account than the hind of consciousness. There is a sort that includes all. It is possible to be so filled with the essential principle of life as to pass beyond the sphere of incidental questions. If Jesus had reached this point, he had a right to his statement. 140 Ecce Spiritas. Other men have had this, in faint approaches to the clear realization which came to the mind of Jesus. But, unlike them, he never doubted nor questioned nor speculated. It was consciousness that spoke in him, and made possible the clear, calm certainties of his life, the almost utter absence of the things that cloud and embitter our experience. He talked of God as if he had but just left him, as in truth he really had. It never occurred to him to prove his existence. That attempt was left for an age stranded on the shallow reaches of scientific certainty. He introduced no mathematics into the demonstration of facts that are so consciously real. If he had stooped to the poor expedient of external proof, the world might well have doubted his claim to anything but the knowledge of the empiricist. It is not by the processes of logic that men come to God. There are not enough formulas and symbols in the universe to prove him. It is He that hoi Is and comprehends creation, and not creation that holds and comprehends Him. We prove what is less than we arc, that which we can master. We are too small intellectually to demonstrate infinite being, but it is the very fact of God's existence that proves ours. The certainties of our life lie in him, and nowhere else. Without him, it will be a delusion and an unreality. If we insist upon proving God, we are lost ; while our salvation comes in allowing his existence to demon- strate and make reasonable our own. Jesus sees that God lives in the facts of conscious- ness, a demonstration far more certain than any that The Selfhood of Jesus. 141 merely appeals to either the reason or the senses. Last of all would he doubt this^ knowing that an eye shall be color-blind or an ear deceptive as to sound, before the soul shall deny its own. He puts no im- putation on the senses, but holds them rigidly to the interpretation of matter. They are unquestioned authority in the sphere of tangible things, but they can go no further of themselves. With a soul back of them, they reveal a world of wonderful meaning and suggestiveness, types and symbols, representatives and correspondences everywhere of that which is essential and imperishable. Jesus has no quarrel with the fleshly witnesses, but would confine them to their sphere. Understood at their real worth, and related as they were intended to be to the higher spiritual faculties, of which they are but feeble representatives in the sphere of matter, they become at their highest development the source of mighty use and beauty. But, turning from the last and grandest utterance they can make, Jesus asks what the soul has to say. And, as he listens, the front he gives the world grows grandly calm. The poise of eternity is in that assur- ance of an undivided nature ; not the bravery of a petty trust, an emasculated courage, — such as we often see extolled in the name of religion, .although it is robbed of everything but weak and meaningless de- pendence, and unfounded on that knowledge, sympa- thy, and understanding of nature and the providence of God, which are, in at least some degree, demanded of us; but that of a soul marching through destiny 142 Ecce Spiritus. with undisturbed tread, heaven in his outlook and the certainties in his steps. Nor do we forget the rare moments of a strictly human emotion, when, for a moment, his soul seemed to fall from its equipoise. But it was only for a mo- ment, — only enough to relieve us of the fear that, after all, this cannot be the life of one like us, that this can be no mere humanity, so firm and exalted, — but rather some strange divinity ; only enough to bring the lesson home to men who, like him, are called to suffer and to triumph in strictly human ways. And even in the garden, and on the lonely mountain-top, it is not dread, nor complaining, nor any form of recreancy, so much as the purely natural feeling of disappointment and sorrow for a world so tenderly loved, and so soon to be left in its degradation and need. It was apos- tasy and blindness in those who should have under- stood and sustained him in the trying hour, those arid wastes of unsympathetic questioning on every hand, that for the moment unmanned him. Add, if you will, an instant of purely human recoil from the prospect before him, — which nevertheless was not al- lowed the slightest weight in the strong determina- tions of his life, — and nothing has been allowed which in the least derogates from his most comprehensive claim. Jesus, then, is to be regarded as peculiar in method, as well as in the subject-matter of his mission. The message even transcends mere truth in its abstract relations, and becomes the highest and most effective of all agencies in its quality as an embodied, personal, The Selfhood of Jesus. 143 practical verity. When it becomes operative, truth is supreme : as a living, breathing reality, it has dis- tanced the most complete assertion. The truth as it was in Jesus — and the truth had become himself — is loftier and more lasting than any message he merely announced. His own inward necessity, as well as the exigencies of his work, demanded that his truth should take form, but that form must be a living one. And the result was every way what it should be as left by his hand. Had he lingered too long, or allowed men to look too much at the truth as it was in him, rather than at that which was to be in themselves, a radical weakness would have appeared in his work. But, w^ith a foresight that has in it nothing sad, he assures them that it is expedient for them that he should go away. They have seen the truth embodied, but it is still the truth, and not the body, at which they must be forced to look. It is expedient for their highest, purest vision of reality that, beyond a certain point, the man should disappear. That which should be in themselves must not be worshipped in another. "For," he explains, "if I go not away, the Com- forter will not come unto you ; but, if I depart, I will send him unto you." And again, in the same connec- tion, " Howbeit, when he, the spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth, for he shall not speak of himself" etc. In other w^ords, this spirit of truth cannot come, so long as there is one clinging literalism in the worship of man. Even he must be careful not to stay too long. It is the spirit that is to be all in all. CHAPTER X. THE PERSONAL ELEMENT. From one point of view there is no stronger posi- tion of so-called Orthodoxy than that which under- rates merely abstract statements of truth in the presence of a j> er sonal Saviour. The strength of evangelical Christianity among the masses has been far from proportionate to the insight and accuracy of its stand-point of faith mainly through this fact, that it has appealed with a peculiar power to the most strictly human side of men's minds, enforcing itself through living pictures of truth in the concrete. Men who could not judge between the fine points of doc- trine have been made to feel the man Jesus. Rhe- torical art finds no difficulty in giving that fine human touch which speedily puts into oblivion, or subtly har- monizes, the strange jugglery of theologic conceptions which precede it. The mystery is stated ; but the ele- ment of mystery is made to seem only apparent when, at the next moment, the man, with his wonderful and many-sided experience, is brought forth to embody and substantiate it. There is enough in such a life and character to float almost any doctrine which has serious intent ; and the mere fact of the close identifi- cation of dogmas of monstrous perversion with the The Personal Element. 145 living personality of a man who suffered and loved and died as Jesus did, has accounted for the currency of a vast system of false teaching. Unquestionably there is power in the conception of a truth embodied, which must ever be denied to the most complete of abstract statements. The mind has a natural appetite and capacity for truth infusion, taken up and vitalized, and made effective through that readiest of all means of effectiveness, the personality. It is doubtful if indeed truth can ever be adequately stated in abstract terms. It has, to be sure, an intel- lectual formula; but that is not it, and can never be more than one way of showing it. We do not see the truth until we see it in action, working out itself with an utterance far more adequate than that of lan- guage. Truth itself is not abstract. It is the life, the constitution of God, and never, so far as we know, ex- pressed by him intellectually, but vitally. It was only for lack of the living form that man ever flew to the logic, When the groping consciousness could not find the too distant Father, the last resource was to im- prison him in thought. Unconsciously, we assume that the essence of truth is intellectual, and its appear- ance in living form is only one of its many applications. But there is no truth apart from the being of God. It exists in vital form, and our broadest intellectual state- ment of it is only in reality one of its applications. With no disposition to undervalue the sphere of thought, we may say that it is not the only, and cer- tainly not the nearest, method of approach to the high- est. It is certainly linked with all the best that men 146 JEcce Spiritus. do and become, and it must be found in any full and adequate experience. We are so constituted that, to think aright, nay, to think at all positively and hon- estly, is to furnish the motive and the standard with- out which we can at the outset attain nothing. But there is thought and thought. We are in the habit of conceiving God as the archetypal Thinker, but see how closely his thought has been related to life. He did not merely think out the universe, but by that act created it. With him, the intellection of a thing is its projection into being. In no other way does he work save by reason of his prerogative of Cre- ative Thought. The progress of man has been in all ways tending toward this same result, as a possibility for himself, so that, whereas formerly the brute force of brawn and muscle was the most powerful factor in life, the advantage has now shifted to the higher plane of thought. This has now become the measure of our modern life. Men do not so much as formerly employ hands and feet to minister to their desires and attain their ends; but, by following out the most abstruse processes with an inventive genius that sometimes seems almost akin to the creative skill of God, they have evoked all the forces of earth and air to do their bidding. What they have accomplished by thought they have made to serve their thought. The laborious processes of navigation, of messenger, express, or even locomotive service have been largely superseded by cable, telegraph, and telephone, so that now hands and feet rest, while men merely think their thoughts and wishes, and they are heard and obeyed. We The Personal Element. 147 have thus taken a long stride nearer that method of the Almighty which reduces matter to the simple ser- vice of mind. We think, with God himself, to thrill the most stupendous forces of nature to ready obedi- ence. We think alive : our thought has form, propul- sion, outcome. Our practical civilization has not been without its gain in higher power and suggestiveness. One mistakes who merely sees an age bent solely on material prosperity and devotion to physical science. It is the grandest age in history, when thought, eman- cipated from the metaphysics of a preceding era, has marched out into the universe, and reduced mere things to expressions of man's thinking power. We, in our sphere, think the universe into action daily. We have learned that there is something stronger even than the limbs of Hercules. We have found that the metaphysician who masters time and space, and light and warmth, by thinking himself into wood and iron and electricity, is vastly nearer the creative intelligence than the one who merely plays with the abstract symbols of reality. The world, so long in the hands of the power-men, now answers to the mind. But it is not merely the thinker, but a new race of thinkers, who rule the world. The first step is seen when the rude, rugged energies of men, unconscious of any but material wants, and content to satisfy them by the sweat of the brow, give place to the fine flash- ings of intelligence, which in our day dignify even the crudest labors into something of scientific ease. The crowning step will come later, when the tendency has had full development, and reached even to the 148 JEcce Spiritus. highest. Then men will think God-thoughts, thoughts that move irresistibly to action, and complete them- selves in life. Mark, then, that the drift is away from a simple in- tellection oi God, to some living realization of him, — some perfect idea projected into personality. Para- doxical as it may seem in speaking of a Spiritual Being, God is not a mere abstraction, and can be neither portrayed nor impressed abstractly. Jesus had thoughts of God most high and complete ; but the strength of his influence lay in the fact that those ideas had taken possession of him until they issued forth, a new personality. They had become living, formative, effective in him. They were himself; and, by all the personal power possible to him or any man, they ut- tered and impressed themselves. When they became a man, there was immediate hope of their effective- ness. They were as true intellectually before, but now for the first time they were plain and potent. We have much to say about the triumph of truth, but there is no such triumph outside of men. The hope of such an issue will rest upon the likelihood of truth finding embodiment and coming to conquest through the only really impressive means of influence, the human personality. There is no power outside of this. Truth is truth ; but men never see its full rela- tions, nor feel its greatest effectiveness, except by means of men. There is but the shadow of power in a mere idea which gains mental allegiance without reaching the motives ; but the ideas that have been em- bodied and pushed by men have swayed not only the The Personal Element. 149 thinking, but the life of the race. Bunsen says that personality is the lever of the world's history; a truth which is only restated by Renan in that justification he makes for the biographical form he has given to what he originally intended as a history of Christian doc- trines, — his Life of Jesus, — when he says: "But I have since learned that history is not a mere play of abstractions, that in it men are more than doctrines. It is not a certain theory in regard to justification and redemption which produced the Reformation : it was Luther, it was Calvin. Parseeism, Hellenism, Juda- ism, might have combined in all forms. The doctrines of the resurrection of the Word might have been de- veloped for centuries without producing this fecund, unique, sublime fact, which is called Christianity. This fact is the work of Jesus, of Saint Paul, of Saint John." Jesus gave more than the rationale of the great human possibility: he brought to light the living potency of a personal absorption. His truth acts directly. We get near to the man, not as an indi- vidual, not merely as a man, but as an embodiment of something higher, to feel the full effect of his message. Indeed, herein lie both the deathless power and the danger of his peculiar method. If we stop with the man, as we shall frequently be tempted to do, we shall lose the very result he had at heart. Not for a moment would Jesus have men regard him : he is only too eager to reject even the ascription of good- ness, so modest and filial is his spirit. Nevertheless, the fact of his spiritual personality, vivid and strong 150 Ecce Spiritus. and uncompromising, can never be left out of the account in any adequate estimate of his mission. Or- thodoxy split upon this too easy rock, and, disregard- ing the express wishes of Jesus, as well as utterly overlooking his principle, according to which every inference from his words is to be squared, rested its worship in the individual. It is a far different thing to come under the influence of his personality, to see the truth, the principle, in him, and not him in the truth. He is never the objective point, — that is found in spirituality. It must be shown and im- pressed in human ways; but the man is only the vehicle, the principle is all in all. The means are infinitely dignified with the message, but it is the message at which we look. This personal aspect of the man does not refer to the accidental or transi- tory in his experience, but rather to the essential. It is utterly himself, but in a sense the perception of which can never harm another. It is far removed from egotism in the subject, and from narrow worship of the object of its influence. The human instrument must be neither overlooked nor confounded with the message it impresses. The truths of being reside in him, and through him we see them; but they still remain truths of being, and not of this man or that. It is so God presents himself to the minds of men. There is a vast deal of futile reasoning as to the personality of God, simply because personality is misunderstood. It is a question that lies at the heart of the deepest need of the day. The vague deistic position, which is almost universally conceded, The Personal Element. 151 has taken the place of the idolatrous dogmatism of the ages of faith, largely because of the common con- fusion as to personality and individuality. Men at their accidental plane are both personal and indi- vidual: it is only at the fuller point of conscious development to which the race is ever more nearly approaching that all other distinctions are swallowed up in that of ripe and rounded personality. God is not an individual in the sense that we are, but the divine Personality is the very essence of himself. With no disposition to dogmatize in so metaphysical a matter, we may yet say that the question of God's personality seems to be one which should never for a moment be entertained. If God is the parent, arche- typal Life, — and he can be nothing else, — we have but to acknowledge that the only form under which we know or can conceive of life existing is the personal one, to sufficiently answer the question. It is not possible for the mind of man, out of its widest ex- perience, to evolve any other conception of life than this. We are asked, and we are allowed, to go no further than this. The ever-living God may have some form of life utterly different from anything we can ever know ; but, if we came from and are to go to him, if there is honesty in the equipment of con- sciousness, experience, and even intellectual data, received as a possibility from Him, his life can be none other than a personal one. He cannot be, he cannot live, — and surely he is the God of the living, — under any other conception of deity. The clear spiritual vision of Jesus revolted at the 152 Ecce Spiritus. cold Hebraic abstraction, — the Jehovah removed so far from the possibility of human apprehension and approach. It was the strength and fineness of his own personality that led him so familiarly to the Person of the Father. It was the prime factor in himself, which at once separated him from the people, and drew them, awe-stricken, to his feet. In his hands, it was a power to work a like result in others, bringing them not to him, but to themselves. It was himself ; but it worked to create, not to copy. It was his best and grandest, that which alone gets hold of and moves us; but it is because he had come to his higher self in the truth, because he had become the truth, that we are affected. It is the truth as it was in Jesus, not Jesus, that we worship and especially emphasize. There is a personality that we wish to gain, and one we are very willing to lose. We say that a truth divorced from the living capacity of the giver not only becomes inoperative, but so far forth tends to weaken the wholeness of influence which is born out of character. On the other hand, the weak imitation and want of genuine and strong personality in the holding of truth, the too common aptitude for reflect- ing it on the surface from others, is one of the great dangers to be met by him who exerts influence, even though it be of the highest. Men need an inward spur, an incentive toward self-creation, and a higher personality, but least of all to lose themselves in another. The worship of Jesus, then, drops out of any con- ception of Christianity which is referred to the primi- The Personal Element. 153 tive spirit and teaching of its Founder. Christianity is a worship and service and personal embodiment of God's truth, impressed upon humanity through the highest form of human creation and development known to the race. Jesus is more than a mere exem- plar, and both more and less than a savior, in that he makes us possible saviors of ourselves. He in- spires a rightful love and reverence toward himself, but is wronged and shamed by the narrow partisan- ship that will see and worship him, and only him. There is something almost cruel to the memory of so modest, so manly a man, in this perpetual clinging to his cross. The religious leech, that passively ab- sorbs another's salvation, can have no part in that triumph which Jesus wrought out in his own soul between himself and God. The way thereof he has made plain, but the cross and the triumph must be our own. CHAPTER XI. LIFE. It has been already stated that Christianity has to do peculiarly with life. In fact, it not only furnishes an impetus in this direction, but also an entire view of life different from that in acceptance at the time of its promulgation, as well as strange to our own common conception. It first went to the roots of liv- ing, and based its ideal of life on the widest possible understanding of its facts, its tendencies, and its pos- sibilities. It said that to know how to live, and to carry knowledge into execution, was to be as near God and the idea he had in creation as possible. That was religion and a great deal more besides, not commonly included in that specialized word. It is singular that the last thing of which man comes to full consciousness is life. His advance in boasted knowledge has been along the line of separate facts. There is a science of everything but life. There is a professorship of every least and most trivial branch of its vast reality, but no one who at- tempts to teach it as a whole. Meanwhile, is it any wonder that the world is full of dissatisfaction and despair ? We are taught to analyze in the sphere of matter, to reconstruct the mathematical problems, to Life. 155 understand the various forms of speech, to exercise abstractly the faculty of thought, and to generalize in the realm of history. Then, for the rest, after men and women are sent out into the world, they speedily become distraught with a thousand special and press- ing issues with which they find themselves utterly unable to deal. All the perplexing questions which agitate society and the individual are summed up and answered in the single, and in one sense simple, science of life. Our frequent and anxious agitation of reform is simply an unconscious acknowledgment that men have not been formed, have not been trained and educated in that most important of all sciences, how to live, and must needs by constant and laborious process be brought back and reformed. So long as we are educated in everything else but life, in all of its separate branches and superficial accomplish- ments, instead of striking at the heart of this great reality that is missed or violated on every hand, and as the very highest test of our culture, — so long our best effort will be but a track forever travelled back- ward. And the evil lies very deep. In the first place, life is that of which we are least conscious. It is a law of our being that we are most readily conversant with things on the surface. It is the deepest and most central that we commonly ignore or undervalue. Life is so familiar a fact, so co-extensive with our earliest knowledge and experience, that it is in general the matter about which we think last and least. It is the accepted fact, the common, little-to-be-noted oc- 156 JEcce Spiritus. currence, while the countless methods of making it spirited or amusing constitute the chief objects of our attention. Almost no one starts out to live, to study the facts, the laws, the possibilities of life, and by rigid adherence to these to be a master in the sphere of being. Each chooses to excel in some particular branch for its own sake, and not for its possible re- lations to life as a whole, as a vantage-point from which to conquer the whole field. Even the clergy- man, set apart to the highest, wants to convert souls technically or to build up a particular church, while the infinitely wider realm of life is left comparatively untouched. Religion as a separate function is vastly inferior to life. There can be no full true life that is not religious ; but there has been a great deal of religion that was so technical and narrow as to be lifeless, while even the purest spirituality, the minute it becomes exclusive, defeats its own ends and becomes inoperative. So widely has this attitude prevailed, of indifference to, or even weariness of, a life that was irksome be- cause not studied nor understood, that in some degree religion has sprung up in the heart of man as a relief from or added conrpletion to it. In its common forms, religion has ever underrated life, teaching its worth- lessness, and pointing man on through sacrifice and self- extermination to something beyond, which, however comforting and inspiring to a morbid religious faith, is certainly very different from anything we know as life. The vague and pietistic dreamings of church- men, shut off from the joy of keen and many-sided Life. 157 activities, and almost wholly given to abstract stud- ies, bear no relation to the rugged energies whereby healthy nature has ever found its only taste of life. All these must be tamed and attenuated, until out of the weakened body and abnormally stimulated imagi- nation should burst some glowing apocalyptic vision of the world to be. The radical error in the position of the pietist lay in the fact of the too easy relin- quishment of life as a problem. Its weakness and un worthiness were readily seen; and then, instead of addressing itself to the study and normal solution of its mystery and want, the Church turned its back upon it as something inherently evil, and betook itself to the makeshift expedient of something entirely without precedent and theoretically perfect. It of- fered, in place of a limited and painful experience here, an existence which, if had at all, must be had with fixed and rigid necessity, — an arbitrary election, which doomed the saved recipient more than did his supposed loss of life the unredeemed sinner. His was a genuine and so far forth satisfactory extinction, while the elected saint was practically lost in the arbitrary conditions of his sainthood. Henceforth, he did not so much live as revolve around the infinite and incomprehensible Life. The ache and incom- pleteness of existence were not looked at in their larger relations to the purposes of God bound up in the very being of man. They were evils born of the evil in humanity, demanding not elucidation and a higher vision to interpret their place and meaning, but simply an antidote. Religion came, in their con- 158 JEcce Spiritus. ception, because life was a failure, hence the relief and remedy must be radical and distinctive. This world was wrong, hence the objective point of their teach- ing was heaven. Since man was proved to be impo- tent, a martyr was better. Crucifixion, self-denial, practical extinction, became the very price of the larger and more enduring inheritance. The truer view of religion, the only one that can stand the tests of deepening culture and experience, regards it not as the relief from life, but as its crown and completion. It recognizes life first of all, not here nor there, caring little about the question of worlds, and being so full and conscious of this won- derful possibility in the very heart of being itself. It comes not to take away, but to hallow man's grief ; not to destroy, but to deify the world. It is a part of human joy, felt in every thrill of ecstasy and every pulse of power. It is no remedy, no negative and complement al element in the make-up of man, but a fact, a reality, of which all the separate spheres of existence are mere accidents; in short, in the com- pleter sense, life itself. The history of the growth of religious thought has clearly demonstrated this as a tendency more strongly emphasized at each successive stage of human devel- opment. Thus, it has hapj)ened that life, though com- monly ignored as a conscious issue, has been unwilling to be left out of sight in any adequate scheme of sal- vation. In spite of the still too great want of consid- eration for being as the central field of study and effort, the race has nowhere so rapidly advanced as Life. 159 along the line of self-consciousness. Life is not recog- nized in its entirety, its specific relations, as it will be later on. Nevertheless, everything that goes to make it in its separate fields and functions is scanned with almost preternatural intentness. A deep-seated curi- osity watches every j)hase of matter, every movement of the mind. As we know and feel life now, it was never known before. Alongside of the waste and fever of practical activity has come the culmination of the two great intellectual tendencies, the meta- physic and the scientific. Introspective and analytic, with eyes turned inward as well as outward, to watch with tireless vigilance the processes of bodily, intellect- ual, and spiritual being, the man of to-day is no more like the primal man, the metaphoric dweller in the gar- den, than the child is like the patriarch or the savage like the savant. For the first time, the race wakes up to the primary inspirations of life. Full conscious- ness has not yet come ; but out of the intense individ- uality, never so deep and vital as now, and the subtle realization of everything that goes on within and makes for the existence of man, which characterizes our age, we may look for the time when life as a rec- ognized study will outrank all the sciences in the esti- mation of mankind. Then, when life as such is understood, there will not be so much talk about the religions. It will be seen that there is, and can be, only one sufficient life, and that religious ; as also only one religion, and that the religion of life. Even now, we are coming to see that whatever finds credence and enduring power with the 160 Ecce Spiritus. mass of men must appeal to this awakening self-con- sciousness, must be in the line of this practical ten- dency which studies the facts without and within, must be in harmony with and not antagonistic to the pride and the joy and the blessedness of life. The age will have nothing to do with churchly slurs on the vast and hopeful activities which animate its effort : it will take no part in pietistic cant about the worthless- ness of life, and the glory of fagots and consecrated resting-places. The time has this answer to all false underrating of the active self-consciousness of the day, that the evil of mankind, as well as of the Church, has been in its ignorance and rejection of life ; that, while studying everything else, it has been content to evade the actual conditions out of which come health and happiness. It has filled the world with the cries of its agony and want of harmony, demanding the pity of men everywhere, through history, poetry, art, and re- ligion; while it has all the time refused to live, declined to look on life as a problem, preferring rather to con- sider it as a debtor, upon which it has an especial and constant claim. The vital relations of man in the threefold sphere of his being, to God, to man, and to himself, are left to the study of the specialist, sepa- rated as far as possible by the very exigencies of his position from the facts, and doomed to the abstract methods and narrow i^remises of his fatal inheritance. While the government has its accredited and utterly untrammelled students of the rocks and stars, life, not sectarian, not religious, in the narrower sense of the term, upon which, more than anything else, its Life. 161 very institutions rest, is left to the fate of chance. It is not until very recently that the Church has said anything about the necessity for life. Every move- ment of Protestantism has been born primarily of this fact, the new Church becoming powerless as soon as the fire of the momentary protest had faded, and life had been forgotten in the fresh but equally lifeless formalism. Men are just beginning to understand themselves, the world in which they live, and that mutual relationship, that interblending of ties and de- pendences between it and them and God, which fur- nishes the true conditions of life. Now there bids fair in time to be a science deeper than all the sciences, one that shall do more than merely teach us how to subjugate the earth or to read the stars, important and inspiring as these undoubtedly are, in teaching us to live. Religion will not suffer, except superficially and healthfully. It will lose much, as is well, and entirely shift its stand-point ; but it will gain much in getting closer to the centre and all the realities of life. This science of life, made up of all, yet deeper, truer, more pervasive than all, will be the religion of the future ; and there will be nothing in heaven or on earth, no power, material or spiritual, which will not come into its hands. Its demand will be everywhere for more life, not less. It will take no especial account of this world or the next, but will first insist upon the dignity of man as man, as originating in and ever more and more consciously related to God, and then solemnly call upon him to live. By the frequent use of the word "life," it must not 162 JSJcce /SpiHtus. be supposed that anything is intended in contrast with the very highest conception man has ever had of a possible existence. The object is not to put the lower in place of the higher, but to show the unity of the one and only life in all its varied spheres, and to in- dicate that, so comprehensive and vital is its scope and meaning, we need, least of all, to supplement its sub- lime reality with any theological substitute. It is no undue preeminence conceded to physiology over biol- ogy, or biology over spirituality, but the insistence on the fact already too long deferred, — that life is one, nay, infinite, and large enough to account for everything in the sphere of its manifestation, as well as to meet every demand in the present and future of mankind. It is to suggest the grandest thought and the most significant theme of human intelligence which has for so long, in its larger relations and its scientific aspects, been kept in the background. Life is all that there is. When everything has been sifted, it alone remains, the one thing that never lessens. It is the fixed quantity of experience, that which, amid frequent shiftings and dismemberments, not only animates time and space, but lays hold of eternity. These four letters spell out the grandest, most inclusive and inspiring word in the language. Life combines all things in itself, is all the j)arts of it you can name, — all science and spirituality, all history and philosophy, all art and nature, jill possible thrills and ecstasies, all griefs and glories; yea, and some- thing more and greater besides, made up of the aggre- gate of all experience and yet through all and above all Life. 163 an entity. The activities, interests, and ideals of one generation, give way to those of another. The lights and prophets rind benefactors are for a day, but life is ever one. It reaches back and gathers up in tireless transmission the roots and tendencies of every throb and motion of being, and knows that it is deathlessly related to every breath of most remote existence, a part of all coming bane and blessing. No part of it is ever lost or unrelated to the whole. Everything ministers to life. Everything witnesses it. For it the earth was created, and at its fulness it is something the heaven of heavens cannot contain. It makes everything tributary, but is itself never subject. It demands and holds itself worth infinite sacrifice of momentary ease and enjoyment. To have lived — nay, to live — is much, everything. Through mani- fold apparent loss and misery, the great fact stands out in all its majestic import, that existence is grand. To have suffered means both less and more to him who appreciates the prerogative of being, than it does to one who lives upon the surface. He knows that nothing can be lost to life, that out of its wholeness all partialness is made good. He knows that God lives, is God simply by reason of his in- finitude of life ; that He is not merely the originator and destiny of being, but the absolute and perfect realization of it. God is, and that fact transcends all possible distinctions of love, power, justice, truth. The " I Am " of Jehovah outweighs the most minute and accurate category of divine attributes and qualities. When a human being has reached the " I 164 JEcce Spirit its. am " point, his education and salvation have com- menced. Then force, beauty, grandeur, begin as conscious possessions. Then there will no longer be estrangement from the Great, the Parent ; * I Am," — nor incompleteness nor aberration in the rounded orbit of perfected action and exercise. It is simply be- cause men do not know, or have forgotten themselves, that they pursue so exclusively the many poor and trivial ends. The objective point of all moral and re- ligious enlightenment is the re-creation of the positive consciousness of being. To have awakened men to the fact that they are really alive, not superficially nor accidentally nor temporarily, but actually and inher- ently alive^ is to have begun the one process of re- demption which needs no other to complete its work. TTe have said that God is Life; yet men have sought him in everything else, and with every other kind of searching save that of developed being in themselves. TVho by searching can find God? Surely, if he is far off, we cannot hope to reach him. Either He is near, a p ssible realization from within, or it is a lost cause with humanity. It is life alone that finds Life ; and only in proportion as we live, roundly and fully, do we come to a consciousness of God. The fact of divine creation suggests this wonderful quality of life as it is in Him. Although He constantly imparts, He remains the infinite fulness. Life is the only thing that can be given without loss. To impart is its exercise, its completion, the test of its vitality. Death withholds everything, life nothing. Its per- fection comes alono* the line of its g;enerositv. Its Life. 165 seeming negation is the very condition of its positive- ness. Consequently, when man sprung into being, although his sphere was circumscribed, — the principle being the pure parental one, — he was amenable to the same law. Not only must he be creative and unselfish, but he must come vitally into relations with God. The responsive complements the creative in divine nature, and man finds the actual and constant necessity of spiritual contact with his Source. It was this that Jesus saw so clearly amid the short-sightedness of his time. He found God an abstraction, and he left him a Father. He went further than the Jewish mind, which saw little beyond the fact that God had made the universe; he said that God not only thought out the universe and set it in motion, but evermore lives in it, in the beautiful order and fixity of divinely established law. But the most vigorous blow he struck was against the Jewish con- ception of law itself. This, in the hands of God, was large and living, ever spiritual although material in its occasional sphere of manifestation, and inclusive of the most intimate and loving relations between off- spring and Creator in the boundlessness of its working. He declared that the material evidences of a living God were insignificant compared with those from within, that the soul of man is the direct mirror of the Creator. There, in its irresistible instincts and tendencies, its intense and unquenchable longings, its energy that, though often dormant or perverted, is yet never lost, is it seen how truly in the sj)here of his creation God is alive. 166 Ecce Spiritus. The Jewish theism began in Abraham, in the fresh, free, mountain glimpse he caught of the all-pervading Spirit principle. Moses saw the fading glow, but lost it in the attempt to imprison it in stone. Then, as the clouds of literalism gradually cleared, the arch of the rainbow of spiritual promise rested its span from Abraham to Jesus, with Moses lost in literalism between. The relief of occasional prophetic protests was but momentary, until Jesus came, charged with more than a mere protest, to declare that God is alive ; that life is the one perennially important and unchangeable thing to man ; that in the active, con- scious union of the two is all that humanity ever re- quires. His very personality was keyed to this great certainty. For it, he was prepared to live and die. God being Life, he asserted that it is life alone that can know him. And this he knew by reason of the presence of this same thing in himself. Out of his own experience, his struggle and suffering, his con- scious strength born out of determined and uncom- promising adherence to the highest, lie knew that it is simply the lack of this in others that makes God seem to them so vague, abstract, and distant. To find people who really live is so rare that we are profoundly impressed when one comes to our knowledge. We are awed, and stricken with the desire to canonize. It was this that gave Jesus so ready a sway and influence. Nor was it strange that an element of worship, as if sometimes he were a God, entered into the reverence for the man. It is ever so. Men refuse to live that for themselves which Life. 167 they adore in others. Unquestionably, Jesus was phenomenally endowed, the product of race influences that culminated in him, but not so much so that he did not call all men to the same full exercise of the functions and possibilities of being by which he gained his own supreme exaltation. He was able to proclaim the living Fatherhood by reason of the liv- ing sonship in himself, which it was his object to de- velop out of the universal human possibility. This is the very heart of his message. Beyond his declara- tion that he is the Life, thus ignoring every other quality in himself as subordinate to this of being, he declares that he is come that men might have life, and have it more abundantly. He reiterates this again and again, under varying forms of statement, until this becomes the chief point of difference between him and the other founders of religious systems. He is never on the surface, but always at the heart and centre. His word is vital and vigorous, such as men full-orbed and manly can understand. It appeals to those who are alive and in earnest, while it is a re- proach, a rebuke, to the morbid and slothful. It has a thrill, and jmlses through us. It does not play and coruscate upon the merely intellectual or imaginative side, but gets into the hands and feet, and makes us over daily. Its range is limitless and its sweep mighty. It leaves out nothing, and can look down as well as up. There is only one Life, and the lower must be made the higher. The Church has tended to exalt religion, technically considered, over everything else; while its instra- 168 Ecce Spiritus. ments of books or creeds or formulas have too often overshadowed the near and conscious functions of man's nature. But Jesus says Life, — whereof religion, as we commonly use that term, is only one side. Life, rightly looked upon, is religion, since it is that which brings us back to the Parent Life ; but religionism is only one of its countless expressions. It is ever seven times one, instead of one in seven. Religion is the highest side, but surely no one would think of claim- ing that it is all of life. Using the word in its eccle- siastical relations, religion is a part. The pure rationalistic order that succeeds it is another. But life is the whole, and will yet show how all things work together for good to them who live up to its full privilege. It culminates in its filial expressions of joyous and dutiful union with God. It exists in makeshift incompleteness in countless forms of igno- rance and perversion, but is only found real and representative at its fullest and highest. We question how many shall know it hereafter, when the fact remains that so few have known it here, that the heaven beyond is hardly more vague and incomprehensible than the heaven at hand. How vast, how sweeping, then, the revolution of Jesus ! How radical the revelation which cleared up and in- spired man's present as well as future existence with the light not of promise nor of hope, not of contingent life, but with the conscious certainty of a large and living reality. He brought no new and different kind of being, which man was incapable of comprehending, no mythic immortality, when earth and its opportu- Life. 169 nities had failed to satisfy, but only something more and finer of the same sort, of which in their better moments they had had faint experience. Indeed, he brought nothing. He was an essential evolutionist, touching the inner springs in all men, and calling out the latent strength and beauty of insight to supreme exercise. He showed them simply how blind they were. He had much to say about the possession of eyes which could not see ; and his ultimate demand, ever held in reserve, was, He that hath faculties to use let him use them. He gave them a taste of harmony. The silent harp in life, once swept with a master hand, would tune experience to a loftier strain through- out the centuries. He brought his life close to theirs, so that even in their spiritual apprenticeship they were wonderfully touched and moved. To see how truly Jesus is the apostle of life, com- pare his method and its conclusions with those of Buddha. Both were early impressed with the hol- lowness and inadequacy of much that is dignified with the name of existence, and both were infinitely saddened at what they saw. Both were brought close to experience, although approaching it from external stand-points that were widely apart, — the one rich and royal, and the other poor and without place in the social scale; but the attention of each was chiefly caught by the surface-living of men. The worship of sense, with its attendants of sin, of loathsome disease and premature death, was, it is true, abhorrent to them ; but they saw alike that this was not the root of the difficulty. Each felt that 170 JEcce Spiritus. this was the negative result of a positive something wanting in the common make-up, which, above all else, they must labor to supply. But the coincidence stops with the perception of the difficulty, since the methods and results of each were as widely separated as the poles. Buddha, seeing how unsatisfactory, nay, how wrong, life is, abandoned it altogether, as something beyond the hope of amelioration, and, going into the desert, announced, as the crowning revelation of his years of study suffering and self-abnegation, that the only relief, the only good, lay in non-being. Whatever nice question may lie between the scholars as to the full and precise meaning of Nirvana, it is certain that Buddha came to the calm, unshaken conclusion that life is an evil, and that the only salvation from it is to get as close as possible to unconsciousness. He proceeded at once to reduce the sum of evil as a negative quality by diminishing the positive quantity itself. The curse to his mind was not in perversion, but in creation itself. Hence his cry was for non- being, for less life instead of for more. With equal study, suffering, and self-abnegation, Jesus worked out the same problem in his own way. Keeping clear of the desert, and with only occasional excursions into places of solitary communing, in most of which he was attended by a saving few, in order that he might never lose sight of humanity, Jesus held himself close to life. If existence were wrong, it was in the midst of it, among its facts, its possi- bilities, its unseen or uncomprehended verities, that Life. 171 lie must move to find the solution. The salvation of life, he saw, lies in nothing apart from life. " Subsists no law of life outside of life." The desert has no gospel for the crowded thoroughfare. The cell has no answer for the tears and prayers of the home. Jesus lived, drove the wandering thing called life back to its last, secret hiding-place ; and there, with his foot on the folly, the error, the caprice, he lifted up his voice above the cries of earth, and pro- claimed the sovereign remedy. It was more life, not less ; true life, not false ; the ascending, not the de- scending scale of being. He pointed men not down to non-existence, but up to life's Infinitude. His was no meagre God, but the Father of fulness. His was no negative escape, but a more positive approach. He would fill out, not narrow down. It was not the easy giving up, the coward's cold shoulder, but the grander taking hold. It was what the world had been waiting for, and what its richest experience has not yet out-grown. To see how true is this distinction in the case of Jesus, watch him in the records of his daily work. He is a living rebuke to the narrowness of those who have here and there earned the name of benefactor by a conception of duty which has limited rather than enlarged the outlook of man. He challenges the ecclesiastic as well as the partial scientist with an ex- perience as fresh, free, natural, and many-sided as that of the highest. Was religion beautiful? Yes, engag- ingly, absorbingly so. It employed all the faculties and resources ol his nature in. joyous exercise. It 172 Ecce Spiritus. measured him and everything else in the capacious possibility it assumed to his mind. As a thoroughly spiritual man, he was in love with God's world, the nearer world of men, all social and aesthetic circles of enjoyment. He love 1 the waving fields of corn, even though it be on the Sabbath of a Jewish formalism, the woody shores of Gennesaret, and the flowering banks of the Jordan. He sat by the seashore; and, when the me- tropolis choked his nature-loving heart with the dust and disturbance of its streets, he fled to Olivet, with- out the city, for the communion of the fields and sym- pathetic friends. How near his heart to nature! Like every poet soul, he carried his thirst and repres- sion to the still, solemn rustling of solitary trees. In the universal Gethsemane, he found himself and his God, not as temple worshipjDer, as fingerer of the sa- cred books, but warm with the currents of that nature love that lies so near the sympathies of our race. Had he not been more and greater, he would have stopped to be a poet. A little more of the Greek in him, and he had been a dreamer in that most glorious system of aesthetics the world has ever seen. But thank God for the Greek in him. Fused as it was into the higher make-up, he was, through it, only the more cosmopolitan in his genius and influence, only the truer man, and nearer to the great human heart. He could not pass a wayside well, where in the sun- shine stood a woman with the sign of earth's work and weariness in her hands, and the deeper, more illu- sive look of earth's sin and sorrow in her sad eyes, Life. 173 without making an excuse to talk. Did we think of him as absorbed in his truth, in this abstraction of a mission to men, absent-minded and self-centred on the mighty conceptions that filled his mind? Per- haps we could have forgiven him if he were, as the grateful world has forgiven many another narrow savior. But no, he is thrilled and filled with life, only keenly sympathetic with the actual needy real- ity, wherever it is found. The world's problem can be dropped : rather, here is the problem. The metaphysics paled before a simple Samaritan maiden with one gleam of the world's sorrow in her eyes. We learn of him at the wedding, funeral, and social visit, and infer that these most frequent occurrences are commonly omitted from the narrative because of their frequency. As truly a socialist as a poet, a lover of the world as well as keenly keyed to the pleasures of solitude, he is everywhere at home, always himself. He never in all this for a moment forgets that great call to his Father's business; and yet so unassumingly and so unconsciously does he work that they never seem to have suspected him of half his happy seriousness. But the strength and beauty of this lay in the fact that he found it all so sinrply and naturally in God. The range of his sympathies was no wider than it was high. It is in the light of this truth that his character comes out fullest and clearest. He does not abandon his fresh, free naturalness, and assume the long face of Pharisaic formality when he enters the Sacred Pres- ence. Putting off nothing and taking on nothing, he 174 Ecce Spiritus. forgets to be anything but himself. There he does not live, and pray here. There he is not Jesus, and here the posing Christ. There he is not sportive, and here so covered up and abnormally straightened that even God cannot recognize him. Here as there, he is alive and at home. You see life only, but it is its crowning expression, its moment of supreme ex- perience and exalted consciousness. In his relations with God there is something inexpressibly confiden- tial and tender and manly and sweet, as if the faintest barrier separated them, and the knowledge of each other had been from of old. With no servile fear on his part and no undue desire to propitiate, the rendering of filial trust and love becomes the service of a childlike joy. He will not gain God at the cost of underrating any part of his creation. God must not be glorified at the expense of man. Aspersion plays no part in his eminently manly approach to divine things. God has first been seen to be good in humanity and nature. The worship has basis, and finds the Highest no less surely on that account. CHAPTER XII. IMMORTAL LIFE. Thus far, we have seen Jesus in his relations to life in general. A step further will show us the larger bearings of his principle to life, so considered as to leave out no possible sphere and function. His first office is the elucidation of the existence of to-day, — not in any narrow nor merely material sense, but of our existence tested by the highest possibility of now and here. Then he proceeds by a fine spiritual logic, not stated but everywhere implied, to build up in men's minds the conditions, as well as to show the necessities, of a life related to the present, although unlimited by it. It is sufficient to say, in justification of such a state- ment, that the possibility of all this, as we can now set it forth, has come from Jesus. It is useless to claim that he has no logic, no systematic elaboration, according to the scientific notion of our day. He is no logician, no scientist; but with a subtler, surer method, and often fully as much by what he does not say as by what he says, he makes plain to the sympa- thetic student the law which he himself may reduce as far as possible to intellectual statement. This latter is not the work of Jesus. Other less great and less en- 176 JScce Spiritus. lightened men can write the specifications of the won- derful spiritual mechanism he has fitted to its work. It is his principle that makes us capable of such a statement, which we therefore do not hesitate to refer to him. We may make deductions which he never definitely stated; but we cannot carry out his princi- ple, everywhere and unmistakably seen, to its full application, without finding our inference necessarily implied. Nay, more, it will be in the facts which are patent to our own observation and experience of life. It will be the last word of the best and most enduring reality we have ever known. All life is a corrobora- tion and restatement of the words of Jesus. What he knew so sufficiently in the primitive exj)erience of nineteen centuries ago, we know in the light of the ripest culture of to-day. The age has borne away from the perversions of the Apostolic Church, but not from the simple statements of Jesus. But, faintly understood, they are yet enthroned in the deepest consciousness of the race. We find them in seed form, germinal with a possibility which it devolves upon us to fulfil, in the Gospels; and we may well refer the ripe fruit which haply falls into our hands to the parent source. We have, however, to proceed carefully at this point, as we are now upon the most delicate ground of our inquiry, as well as nearest to the heart of the whole matter. We are met at once by the inadequa- cies of a language formed long before men nad arrived even at the conscious necessity for spiritual things, by habits of thought and methods of expression which Immortal Life. 177 have become, to a certain extent, fundamental, as well as by an attitude common to all ages, but, in some es- pecial sense, characteristic of our own, which insists upon the employment of scientific principles in the proof of spiritual realities. Deprecating none of these things, and only too glad of the hints and warnings they have thrown in the way of the later exponent of spiritual truth, we are confident that language and life, and even scientific methods themselves, are sufficient to answer the purpose of the most anxious inquirer into the principle of Jesus in its application to human need. But, to a certain extent, we must start new in our work. Much of the old questioning, with its baseless stand-point, its talk of hopes and faiths, its willingness to hold the understanding in abeyance if it could only hear an authoritative utterance from without, must be abandoned. We must shift our ground, remodel our terminology. We must get inward to the laws and facts, and, forgetting to talk about faiths, be satisfied only with the necessities of what we seek, as we find them grounded in the nature of things. At the very outset there is error in the common estimate of our means of knowledge, the sphere and method by which we are to arrive at certainty of en- during life. This has led to serious disappointment in many a faithful believer, who has come to think that there is something faulty in the position of Jesus. Looking, as he thinks naturally, for a definite state- ment in a matter so important, and finding it left so apparently in darkness, he has been thrown back upon himself, without the understanding that that is what 178 JEJcce Spiritus. Jesus wisely intended, and without the insight neces- sary to see that in this way his principle comes to proof. He hears others assert that Jesus nowhere explicitly teaches immortality, and, at best, only im- plies it, and is thus at last content to give up the matter in inquiry as beyond the capacity of man. If Jesus had meant to teach so transcendent a doctrine, he would surely not have left it to chance, but fixed it in a statement about which there could have been no question. The radical error in this too common position is the readiness to accept vital, personal truth from without in the form of finality. It is the undue leaning upon authority which Jesus dreads in the attitude of men toward himself. Men want it all stated with nothing more to be done, so plain that they cannot but accept it ; and then how easily they are saved ! But Jesus meant there should be no short road to divine things. They exist in living verity, and must be duly appro- priated. He left out nothing essential in the state- ment of the all-sufficient principle, but was careful not to defeat the great end by doing man's work for him. He had no cheap, easy salvation in mind. To picture heaven was not his object, but to build it up in human lives. It was all in the principle which he announced with sufficient fulness, but we must come up to the principle. It cannot come to us until we are prej)ared and ready. It must be the lower that ascends, and not the higher that descends. The prob- lem being already complete in its solution, it remains with us to work it out, each one for himself. Immortal Life. 179 To leave for a moment the question of immortality and go back to a subject discussed in a former chap- ter, we have seen there that Jesus illustrates and seeks to impress an original conception of life. He lives out in detail, but more particularly in principle, an ideal and utterly uncompromising experience, which at once separates him from the mass of men ; and this through no social nor aesthetic fastidiousness, — for he was ever one of and one with the people, — but by reason of the originality and strength of his conviction. By that life, he was related first to God, but secondarily, through the harmonies of a law that, though complex and various in working, is ever one, to all created and circumstantial things. The fact that he filled out the universe with spiritual relation- ships did not in the least affect the purity and divin- ity of the spiritual principle. In rooting the growth of his philosophy (let us not be afraid of the word : it is one of our oldest and best, and means more than even the schools have dreamed of) deep down and firmly in the soil of a natural origin, he in nowise curtailed its capacity for mounting to the stars. Quite the contrary. It is because of this fact that we go the more confidently forward with him, as- sured that he will not violate the fundamental cer- tainties which our science, and his, have taught us. It encourages us to hope for a conscious immortality which is consistent, which is natural not supernatural, necessary not arbitrary. The position of the modern questioner who refuses to accept a faith or doctrine in the face of opposing 180 Ecce Spiritus. facts is right in {principle, so far as that principle goes. The honest investigator who relinquishes the hope of life he would gladly possess because of stern adher- ence to the truth as he can see it is, in his way, a martyr to the highest. Doubtless there is blame somewhere else, if no better, truer method is shown him, one which will not contravene, but, rather, com- plete the knowledge he has gained in the sphere of nature ; but no reproach attaches itself to his honesty. The sensitive distrust touching any declaration of cer- tainty in regard to a sphere of life which lies, or is supposed to lie, entirely outside of this life, with sym- bols and terminology different from those which we use here at our highest, is, after all, well founded. And the only way in which to meet this inborn intel- lectual aversion is to show that life, in its largest and most enduring relations, requires none of these things. The materialist, the boldest scientist, knows and believes in life ; and it is only at a certain stage, when the physical darkness sets in, and the human eye can see no further, that he begins to doubt or dis- trust. It is evident, then, that any elucidation of its farther reality must lie along the line of that which he already knows. He will reject any de novo con- cejDtion of an existence added to this he now has and given upon arbitrary conditions to complete it. Knowing and believing in this which he feels is all that he has, he will resent any aspersion upon the goodness of this world, and will only be helped toward heaven by the discovery that the conditions of it are indestructibly bound up in the life of which Immortal Life. 181 he is now conscious. If you will develop the con- sciousness of the indestructibility of life out of that life of which he is already conscious, there is hope that he may be convinced. At the outset, Jesus presents no conception of im- mortality at variance with or divorced from the facts already known. The life he lives is that of nature, but the highest step of its most stupendous reach is related to the lowest. It is the breath of God, — taking breath merely as a symbol to signify the most vital function of life, — a part of himself sent forth by that creative energy which characterizes infinite being, and able by no possibility to drop out of the sphere of living things any more than can God him- self. If God can die, the soul can. But this is of little consequence as a separate fact. If the soul cannot know and feel something of all this, it would be of little value as a bare statement, open as it is to the attacks of material disproof and spiritual un- consciousness. Its demonstration or its denial does not come within the sphere of external data, but only within that of inward experience. This must of necessity be so. Such a fact comes under the gen- eral law which forbids the sufficient outward demon- stration of any reality of inward experience. Nay, more, immortality never has been and never can be proven in any sense that will satisfy the scientific meaning of that term. So far at least, the mate- rialist is right, and always will be right. Matter with its corresponding symbols in thought is the only criterion he acknowledges, and from this test of 182 JScce Spiritus. proof the highest and most perennial truth of being will ever be withheld. Immortality will never be grasped by the intellect- ual faculty alone. Consciousness is the final authority upon which it must rest, and consciousness last of all rounds itself out into intellectual statement. It is valueless as a dogma, since the assertion of another's certainty will not answer for oar doubt. We can only be satisfied with our own assurance. It is not enough even that Jesus knew it, until we, too, have been through his process, and arrived at his result, — which is nothing, if not personal. We are thus thrown back to the wholeness of his experience, to the study of the elements out of which such certainty of God-knowledge, such self-confidence, came. The belief goes with the being. An immor- tal sort of life, a life kept close to the imperishable, knows of the deathlessness, and none other can know. The authority is not arbitrary, but essential. This life of God in us has relationship and destiny, as well as origin, in the Infinite. It has, moreover, powers and functions allied to those of God, by which in supreme use and exercise it completes itself. These are spiritual, as it is spirit ; while spirituality is the consciousness of it and them. But you cannot learn these facts from any one, and can only be con- scious of them. Then alone do they have meaning to you and may be said to be known. God being a spirit and man likewise a spirit, how do they come consciously together? Man knows and loves, that which these functions of intelligence and feeling Immortal Life. 183 comprehend constituting all of life there is for him. But as bodily life does not reside merely in the func- tions of hand and feet, but more essentially in the nerve power that back of both electrifies them into motive and motion, so the soul's life is a fine fusion of spiritual attributes which moves even back of these expressions which we call wisdom and affec- tion. The spirit at its highest moment of conscious- ness is an entity which will not be put down by the partial facts of science. It awaits the larger science which shall relate itself not to the superficial, but to the essential. There is being as the animal knows it, fitful, par- tial, and with only at best a faint approach to self- consciousness. Then there is the existence of man, physically considered, in which self-consciousness, un- related as it often is to the supreme facts and possibil- ities of his nature, is one of the saddest things in life. It is just this in our time which causes the deep un- rest, the vague, unsatisfied yearning, the hopeless out- look of humanity. It has asked and failed to answer the question, Is life worth living? Awakened self-con- sciousness is a crying evil, unless it be harmonized with the supreme facts of being. Far better to be as the brutes, if one must range no higher than they. Self-consciousness adds nothing to the joys of light and air and food and motion, but only a dread fear, an intangible longing, a fitful hope that often grows to an ache. It was out of a dim understanding of this that all the philosophies came, all the systems of thought 184 JScce Spiritus. which have attempted now in one way and now in another to reason into harmony and peace an active self-consciousness, which was, however, unrelated to the higher facts of life wherein alone its order and completeness lie. Each one has in turn excited the eager curiosity of man's hungry nature, failed to sat- isfy, and given place to the next, or continued to exist only as a contestant in a noisy war of words. Hence came Epicureanism out of this despair, or Spartan rigor out of the natural reaction, or Plato- nism out of man's last and highest alternative, the pure reason. But all have failed to meet life's need. They have answered much, and given many solutions to near and needy questions; but life is as restless and unsat- isfied as ever. Nay, more so. The hunger deepens, and has already begun to prey upon the vitals. It has struck into the heart, and fatally touched man's capacity for faith in anything higher than to-day. We are better clothed and fed than ever. All our powers are active as never before. But still the heart, needy and naked, stands shivering in an atmos- phere that chills even the first putting-forth of faith. Beneath the ever more and more beautiful surface the despair deepens. And there is no hope of relief and enlightenment except from between the two ten- dencies of materialism on the one hand, and the faith that compromises with superstition and rejects the facts on the other. The time has something to say ; and we are willing to accept its disparagement of faith unrelated to any other faculty of the mind, and Immortal Life. 185 to rest any satisfaction we may hope to find upon the facts alone. The heart itself has something to say here as well. But it is out of experience, self-con- sciousnes active in the sphere of the highest, that we must expect to find the certainty and the reason- ableness that will come to refutation in no sphere of facts. Jesus is at once in harmony with this so common attitude, which says that now and here are the basis of our knowledge of life, which is unwilling to look too much beyond that which is already known. He ignores the questions of where and when almost alto- gether. He himself disclaims knowledge of details as well as indifference to them. So strong and suffi- cient in him is the main fact, the reality, that he can afford to remain in ignorance. His message is not one of " times and seasons," never on the surface, and always close to the centre. The golden throne and pearly gates are no part of his expression. He is in- terested in one thing, and that is life. To know this at its fullest is to be conscious of a deathless en- ergy, is to participate in realities which are by their very nature independent of considerations of time and space. He knows that spiritual experience is not localized ; that heaven is not here nor there, but with- in, in spiritual conditions. He accordingly makes no definition, paints no pictures, in no wise maps out so vital a possibility. The very depth and certainty of his conscious realization is the reason why he has so little to say except as to the fact of life. If his ex- perience had been more superficial, his explanation would have been far more elaborate. 186 Ecce Spiritus. He simply says : A life such as this which I have realized, and which is possible to all, a life which is consciously related to God through the unfolding and development of its spiritual prerogative, emancipated even here at its highest from limiting circumstances, cannot be destroyed. Nay, more, it is conscious that it cannot be destroyed. The life so experienced is its own sufficient proof of perpetuity. There is nothing to destroy it, nothing higher, stronger, more death- less. Of its own self, it cannot cease, except for a time, when it lapses into disuse or degradation. It can suffer manifold changes in sphere, and, so far as its earthly experience is concerned, come under the universal law of extinction. But its first assertion of itself, its awakened and sovereign consciousness, is an ever-growing independence of all limitations, while its final assertion is the inward certainty that, what- ever else passes, it can never die. It is satisfied to let the matter rest in the assurance that, if God can cease to exist, so can it. Infinite life means the utter absence of even such a thought as that of death, and just in proportion as any life approaches this perfection in experience will it not so much argue the question of immortality as forget that there ever was any question. Life is the only thing that refutes death. The certainties of a future are in those of to-day. You cannot talk death to life, for it is alive and takes no account of death. But death is ever ready to hear of itself. Death- lessness can never be argued nor demonstrated ; but it can be known, and that is enough. Life proves Immortal Life. 187 itself in its own way. The consciousness of each individual soul is the last witness to which we can appeal. Life, as we have already stated it at its fullest and highest, needs no qualifying adjective to complete its meaning. To one who really lives, the term immortal life is tautological. We might well spell life with a capital letter, and let the adjective go. The adjective confesses too much. It refers at once to a doubt in our minds, and means reassurance. It weakens the idea it is intended to impress. It begs the question: "If we live, then are we alive?" Again, the word "immortality" is unfortunate, in- asmuch as it puts the emphasis in the wrong place. The insistence should be on the positive, not on the negative fact, on lifeliness rather than on deathless- ness. It is life that we would dwell upon, not believ- ing in the value, altogether too much insisted upon, of the contemplation of death. Half the vitality wasted in discussing death and preparing for a grave we shall never by any possibility occupy, expended upon positive experience and the preparation to live in a cheerful looking forward to life's fulfilment, would result in far greater certainty than is within the reach of impractical piety. We need a new word, which shall have no insistence upon death, but reference only to the positive, conscious, and enduring fact. The first work of spirituality when its age of suprem- acy shall come will be to purify its terminology. Language and life have alike suffered in the too fre- quent and painful lapse of reality from its symbol in speech. 188 Ecce Spiritus. We shall never have peace until we are prepared to look for certainty in the sphere of life rather than in that of death, and to invert the proverb that in the midst of life we are in death. Death is the transient and accidental. Life is the central fact, always upper- most, always last heard from. We do not refer to the feeble faiths and tear-dimmed hopes which have so long in a very circumscribed sphere combated the stern necessities of death. These have done their work in tiding men over the days before the demand and the possibility for something higher and more certain had come. Indeed, the place of faith has been very much overrated in the common scheme of divine things. A faith in immortality may have a certain intellectual value, although nothing will suffer so much at the hands of purely intellectual criticism ; but it has very little reality. Immortality as a spiritual conception must be grounded deeper than that ; while its power, beauty, and reliability as a fact can come only from the perception of its necessity, nay, from its very conscious and present possession. It must be based on some understanding of the laws of life, and of the infinite relations life sustains, not only to God as seen in nature, but also to God as seen in the special sphere of inward observation. When life is so understood, the discussions in regard to immortality will cease. Then the most sublimated faith will be relegated to its place among the things of the race's childhood, to be listened to with only a commiserating patience. Either let us know that we must, nay, that we do live, or let so vast a subject alone. Let us be con- Immortal Life. 189 tented with no half-way methods, no makeshift au- thorities, knowing that from the nature of things immortality must be near and vital and capable of conscious possession, if there is to be any such reality at all. It can by no means be held at a distance, and considered apart from ourselves. It is no arbitrary gift to be imparted later on to non-being. You can only give life to life. We are either alive or dead. If we are dead, there is no hope of life for us ; for death can only receive of its own. If we are alive, all knowledge and certainty of life reside in, and can only hope intelligently to appeal to, that fact of life. If we can die, that is the end of %is ; and there is no use of any farther taking stock as to what is left us in the future. If one can acknowledge such a possi- bility as death in and for himself, — let the word "self" be kept to the highest reach of consciousness, and not degraded to a narrow transient use, — there is from that point onward no grounds for discussion. The life has arbitrated for itself, has practically denied its being and its conscious Source, and having become death can take no account of life. Then the saving work does not lie in any possible argument, but sim- ply in revivification. The salient point in the entire consideration is in the supposed ability to die. The first question a soul that is thoroughly alive settles is with the facts of being. And life of the higher, completer sort has only one answer. It is conscious of itself and of nothing else. There would never be any death in a man's thoughts, if he did not see others apparently dying, 190 JEJcce Spiritus. and hear so much miserable rhetoric that makes death-beds the centre of all saving appeal. If a per- son has no higher stand-point than this from which to address men, if he has no great, positive, breathing reality with which to animate and enliven mankind, a world already too much befogged and degraded would thank him for his silence. Let him speak of the fact, not of its accidental phases. Let us have the reality, and not the semblance. Men are already sufficiently caught in the appearance of things. Life is the real, positive, universal quantity that every- where needs to be insisted upon. There is no death but in feeble, transitory expression. Death plays nega- tive to life's grander positive, it is the shade of noon- day coolness to the power and intensity of sunlight quivering with creative perpetuity. It marks, but it neither makes nor unmakes. As a conception, it is unworthy any but the most obscure place among the thoughts of living and consciously quickened men. As a iinality, it shames the very philosophy that is willing to split upon its rock. It drops out of the mind at a point where it is not so much conquered as forgotten. Immortality cannot remain a faith. Even material certainty is too strong in its positiveness to leave it long unassailed. Already, it totters before the rude attacks of a scientific attitude and arraignment of facts which cannot be gainsaid. Its only alternative is to base itself upon still other and higher facts; not to oppose, bat to complete law ; to speak consciously, or to wait that crownino- moment out of stern life Immortal Life, 191 processes, when at last it shall be able to speak. But of feeble whisperings, of plaintive, untaught yearn- ings, of vague and misty poetizings, such as have so long constituted the stock of religious experience, let there be an end. Glimpses of heaven out of tear- dimmed eyes play their part in the commoner econ- omy of living; but they will not longer be held to answer the full requirements of man's nature, nor will they longer meet the exigencies of man's grow- ing necessity for certain knowledge of the supreme facts of being. Either immortality (we must use the word for want of a better) is, a fact ingrained in the fundamental conditions of being, a necessary part of the nature and law of life, or it is not worth talking about. Better prepare to accept this world as all, and address ourselves to the sole thought of now and here, than waste precious moments in vain specula- tion as to the future. Speculation cannot hope to reach what must be so much a conscious certainty, or nothing. The day has come when, out of the dire need that surrounds suffering and bewildered men, the mystics and the poets must step aside; and the man of life, not the possessor, but the one possessed, who has been led up of life, through nature and the scientist's rich- est stores and ripest methods, to the heart and cer- tainty of divine things, He must lead them between the Scylla of superstition on the one hand, and the Charybdis of materialism on the other, to the calm open waters of a spirituality which has no quarrel with any genuine science or religion. 192 Ecce Spiritus. He, when he comes, will not needlessly attempt the proof of being, but will address himself to being itself. He will say, if he say anything, that the only answer that can come for any question of life must come out of life itself; that consciousness — not the arithmetic, the crucible, not merely intellectual logic — is the sole source of proof. He will talk of life, be full to the limitless possibility of its tender, sweet, and grand significance. He who sits at his feet will find his questions dropping from him. He will forget to ask about the future in so plenary a present. The self, awakened in him to regal consciousness, will only sigh for field and scope in this immensity of being into which he has come. CHAPTER XIII. immortal life (continued). There is a point at which what has already been said becomes more than an abstract statement, — a matter of experimental knowledge. If what has gone before be true, it will follow that the lower the plane of living spiritually, the less of certainty will be found in the belief in the indestructibility of life; while the higher the plane, and, in general, in direct ratio to its elevation, will be the resultant certainty. But by the use of the word " lower " is intended no moral implication, but a reference solely to that qual- ity of current living by which man feels himself re- lated, in some natural and conscious way, with God. Indeed, a great deal of the ordinary difficulty in the discussion of these matters has arisen here. There is a distinctive and oftentimes predominant moral development, which, while separating men and women from the masses in the quality of their current living, and the standards of high and unselfish devotion to others, is by no means equivalent to the possession of a spiritual capacity quickened into active realization of unseen things. There is no reflection upon one's moral excellence, because of an innate inability to appreciate the delicious harmony of music. Such an 194 Ecce Spiritus. unfortunate incapacity we might commiserate, but would hardly condemn. Neither would one in the least reflect upon the eminent virtues and graces of a character like that of Harriet Martineau, which, while perfectly at home and decidedly a power in the realm of ethics, was lamentably deficient in that pecu- liar sense we call spiritual. And it seems all the more trying to be obliged to make such a statement of one who so long and faithfully identified herself with the cause of practical goodness, without leav- ing the least possible reflection upon her life. There will always be those who ask if this is not enough; who will say, What more and greater could she have had? But only a slight comparison of her experience with that of many another, equally virtuous and phil- anthropic and with fully her completeness of mental equipment, will convince us of the partialness of her capacity. There was a dull hopelessness in her life, grand as it was in its aspect of Spartan rigor and absolute integrity, but yet grand, as we cannot but feel, at the expense of something infinitely truer and sweeter and more helpful. If that, indeed, were all that was possible to her, consistent with strict intel- lectual honesty, then did she do well to die with what calmness and composure she might in her finalities. For her stern, uncompromising sadness was better than any certainties, however sweet, which must have been purchased by her at the cost of delu- sion. A man would better hide himself in the rocks and caves, where no meaningless din of prima donna Immortal Life. 195 may reach him, but only the honester cry of hungry crows, than stultify himself with Mozart's praises and a headache when there is no room for music in his soul. Nevertheless, the testimony of any such shall not be taken as to the genuine increase which musi- cal possibility adds to life. There is nothing sadder than the sadness of such people as Harriet Martineau, who with what seems the fulness of mental endowment yet miss the one faculty that crowns and harmonizes all the rest. The much that they are and do, their unquestioned effectiveness in many of the most needy quarters of life, its charities, reforms, and ameliorations, renders it a delicate and certainly a disagreeable task to criti- cise. But the fact cannot be overlooked that, where they see nothing, others, no more to be despised intel- lectually than themselves, find the deepest realities and most undeniable facts of consciousness. When, therefore, it is said that the certainties of life, and the ability from within to ignore the appar- ent limitations of that life are determined by the plane of living, it will be understood that reference is made fully as much to the stand-point and capacity of vision as to the theory of conduct. The latter is always only an expression of something more radical and essential within, and can never be a first-hand source of authority. Spirituality does not ignore conduct, but addresses itself to that out of which conduct springs and of which it is merely an index. It has to do with the motives, the will, the aspira- tion. It lies in at the heart, although we hear of it in manifold forms of expression. 196 JEcce Spiritus. The elevation of this plane (a thought which most quickly suggests itself to our minds), it is evident, is a matter largely within our control, as well as measura- bly dependent upon natural capacity. It is some- thing within the easy grasp of a few, born through stern struggle and bitter trial in the many, and appar- ently beyond the reach of a certain other few, who have in them no innate possibility of apprehending the spiritual relations of things. That it is open to the majority of mankind as a capability that only needs culture and exercise to become a conscious power is, we believe, just as true as that for a minor- ity we can yet see no hope of its communication; although, in the latter case, we have no right to judge in a matter about which so little is yet practically known. The same culture wisely and efficiently brought to bear here, that is directed so persistently toward superficial acquisition, might reveal a spiritual capacity as universal as that of life itself. We have no quarrel with Providence in this respect, but take the facts as we find them. We have no right to arraign the wisdom that sends beings blind and deaf and dumb into the world, least of all until we have studied deeper into the possible laws which gov- ern such incompleteness, and have gained the fuller obedience in which lies its prevention. Neither would we question the wisdom which permits the too com- mon inability to appreciate spiritual reality, assured that, when at last the day of fuller science and riper obedience shall have come, it will then as well be in our power to avert the half conception, and utter Immortal Life. 197 want of real education which ushers into the world so many abnormally constituted and undirected beings. The more closely people stand related to these things, the clearer and more indubitable they will appear. But this fact in no degree derogates from the positive reality of spiritual things. There is nothing which comes within the sphere of our possi- ble understanding, which is not bounded by the same law. Even the world itself depends for its concep- tion in the mind upon the attitude and developed see- ing power of the subject. Not as a bare material mass, although here there is sometimes difference of statement of the same external fact ; but the uni- verse, in its larger and higher relations, is not found in the hands of men to be one, but manifold in aspects and meanings, according to the eye or the mental attitude wdiich surveys it. We might almost say that no two persons see nature absolutely alike. Hence, the possibility of such a word as "original" in the no- menclature of poets and thinkers. All, in general, can see ; but many, it is evident from countless testimony, cannot see what there is to be seen. No intellectual person would deny that it was necessary to get close to the heart of nature, to study her in constant and loving appreciation, to be in willing and receptive at- titude toward her suggestiveness, in order to have an adequate and a satisfactory knowledge of the world. Even here, there are those who answer the commonest expression of delight in its beauty with scepticism. Even here, in the commoner sphere of outward nature, men often need a work which goes to the 198 Ecce Spiritus. root of vision itself. It is the same eye of which Jesus spoke so often as seeing, and yet seeing nothing. There is no field of inquiry more interesting, in this connection, than that of the peculiar limitations of the visual organ, — an inquiry that is almost as old as the power of vision itself, but which has, of late, come into special prominence as a study of scientific and practical importance. Daltonism struck a blow at the arrogance of the materialist's position, more dam- aging than any which could come from the purely spiritual side ; and, while its bearings upon the ques- tion of spiritual certainty may yet be indeterminate, it furnishes a very suggestive field of study and com- parison, the possible importance of which we are not now prepared to estimate. So much, at least, it has demonstrated, — that defective vision is more common than absolute blindness, and by no means peculiar to any realm of sight, be it spiritual or physical. Not only are there persons born with eyes perfect in every other respect, who can distinguish only a limited range of colors; but it is by no means certain, as is acknowledged by those most conversant with the mat- ter, that black and white, about which they have no apparent difficulty, mean the same to them as to the mass of people. The matter is still in dispute, and seems likely to find no absolute demonstration. The natural or rather unnatural inability to see the true relations of moral purity and defilement, or to make material and spiritual distinctions, may be only an- other phase of the same structural incompleteness. One person in every twenty-five is more or less in- Immortal Life. 199 capacitated for distinguishing color. Says Goethe, " The remarks made by color-blind persons as to ob- jects about them are so perplexing as almost to lead one to doubt his own sanity." But they are no more so than the asseverations of those who, wanting noth- ing else, are impelled to ridicule the things so real to others who are possessed of spiritual sight. With no disposition to carry this comparison far- ther than our present knowledge will allow us, we can yet assert that common incompleteness of vision has no more bearing against the facts of vision in one sphere than another; and if, by reason of this, spirituality must be doubted, so must material cer- tainty as well. Manifestly, the higher the sphere, the rarer the perfection of insight ; and the fact remains that the boasted definiteness of matter and its prop- erties has been assailed almost equally with the posi- tions of spirituality by the science of the day. Further, when we come to the assertion that spiritual insight is a power to be educated and developed, we find that it is supported by the experience of the race, in the more primary realm of physical perception. Mr. Glad- stone has advanced the theory illustrated from Homer, that in ancient times the sense of color was generally crude and incomplete; and that, from the time of man's initial efforts to see, there has been going on a process of gradual development of the organ of vision. In other words, nothing was given to man complete, but everything, lower as well as higher, subject to growth and improvement. Probably there are pro- portionately fewer people color-blind in the world 200 Ecce Sjnritits. to-day than in the time of Homer, while the possi- bility of still further reducing the proportion is a matter in the hands of the scientific educators of the day. It may even be found that this is a primary step in the direction of that other fuller power of sight, which is to be unfolded from within, nay, which is to be born into, the human possibility, by those who now take up and carry on to practical fulfilment the work that Jesus began. Evidently, the first thing to be done is to awaken the sense of need. The root of the difficulty, with the lower class of minds, is in the fact that they ques- tion little, because but slightly perceptive of the value of spiritual things, and as yet unconscious of any want of them in their lives. Among people who earnestly desire to go below the surface, the strength of this yearning to know is the prime condition of enlightenment. But there is on every hand a too ready acceptance of such temporary makeshifts as come in the way, a willingness to halt at the first rude rebuff to a nature keyed to the intensity of longing, and in sadness or bitterness to attempt the glorificar tion of negative resignation or loud denial of man's ability to know. The need is hushed to sleep by the song of habitual and uncomplaining indifference. The great gain which resides in the fact of its very perception is lost, and the advanced position of a nature consciously awakened to the want of some- thing higher is abandoned to the enemy. The vision begins as a possibility in the perception of the need. That need is born of life, while the Immortal Life. 201 vision at its fullest exercise creates a new possibility of life. He will be apt to live most, who sees most and looks most clearly into the things which make up and minister to true existence. Accordingly, he will go for the root and authority of vision, not to philos- ophy nor science, but to life itself. When he would ask out of his quickened delight and consciousness of being if this can possibly come under any law of death, he will go to the same source. What, in an- swer, does life say? Nothing save this: that it is sufficient unto itself, takes no account of death, ac- knowledges none, fears none. Even the pagan Soc- rates can say, with a laugh for all his tormentors, "Bury me, if you can catch me." It is only when one is not conscious of himself that he acknowledges a possible grave. But, when he is so conscious, he does not stop to argue the question for which there is no room in his philosophy. Life, at its best, is so large as to crowd out minor issues. It is vital and positive, and not too easily disturbed. The crown of its elevation and thor- oughness comes in a composure that will not be lured away from the heart and centre of reality. It is not strange, but eminently natural and proper, that the thought of death should strike terror to one who is conscious of nothing but materiality, whose highest intelligence and affection are conceived to be wholly bound up in the motions of the body. Death is no merely occasional event in the life of man. He does not live, physically speaking, for seventy or eighty years, and then by reason of a purely new factor, now 202 JEcce Spiritus. for the first time introduced into his experience, die once and for all. Death is the constant companion of physical existence. Beginning with the first breath, it completes itself in tireless process every seven years. The man has died all the time that he has lived, his life consisting of two complemental proc- esses, forever going on side by side, the one a con- tinual tearing down of tissue, a waste of vital sub- stance, and the other a power of repair, a recuperative energy, which is not life itself, but only one phase of the physical reality. The nicely balanced thing we call life resides fully as much in the waste or dying as in the recuperation. It matters not which stops, the person dies. It is as fatal to arrest the due pro- portion of waste in the system or to overstimulate the recuperative activity as it is to lack vital energy itself. Physical life does not consist, as many seem to think, in the mere ability to repair waste, but in the presence of waste as well. Every time he breathes or thinks or moves, the man dies, stimulates the proc- esses of disintegration, in order that he may take a fresh start to live. One day, be it sooner or later, the nice equipoise of waste and repair forces within him is jostled out of order; and one or the other, it mat- ters not which, stops. Then, since dying and living in him are no longer preserved in finely balanced adjust- ment to each other, he dies utterly. But the signifi- cance of the actual moment is vastly overrated in our thought. Death has the closest and most vital relations to physical life at every point of its progres- sive development. The well-taught person, who lives Immortal Life. 203 his life as a problem of infinite possibility at his hands, and not as an irresponsible something upon which he has a never-failing claim, knows that death is not an alien entity introduced into life at the mo- ment of its culmination, but only a little more of the same sort of which it has ever been made up. When it comes, it is with no jar, no break, in the continuity even of his thought. It has never been absent from his consciousness, even though conscious- ness has never acknowledged its essential reality. It is one of those things which men may be conscious of without ever realizing. What wonder that one who knows all this, or even is dimly conscious of it, without anything else in the inclusiveness of his word " life," should be unable to get beyond the grave in his conclusions ! Speaking on the higher plane, we are either alive or dead. If dead, there seems to be no hope for us but to die still further in the contemplation of the annihilist's heaven of unconsciousness. There is logical virtue in this intellectual conception of the annihilist. It is good, relatively, with the merit of all the positive consis- tency which can be brought to bear against the posi- tions of life. It is infinitely better than the half-way platitudes which bring the whole matter of immor- tality into intellectual confusion, by claiming an arbi- trary existence after death, based upon nothing but the say-so of ecclesiastical synods and priestly assump- tions. We have not had a good time in this world and therefore — oh, much-suffering therefore! — an- other world must be provided. As if it took a special 204 Ecce Spiritus. universe to correct the mistakes of the Almighty ! Not to be, we say, is infinitely preferable to this makeshift immortality, which belies God and belit- tles life; which, founded on no adequate reason, grounded as a necessity in no universal law, and with but little understanding of the life it would perpetuate, asserts that imperishable being is to be given later on to non-being, by an arbitrary creation, as in some sort a religious reward of merit. If we are alive, — we do not say have life, for it is life that has us, — there is no possibility of our dying. Here, as in physical nature, there may be a process of death spiritually going on beside, and at times defeat- ing, the full consciousness of life. But the only true life of which Ave know is related to God, and shares by nature and necessity in his indestructibility. We have only enlarged the facts already stated in regard to life, and carried out to legitimate and nec- essary conclusion the principle they illustrate, to understand the very simple and logical position of Jesus with reference to a future existence. As we have described the attitude of the well-taught and serious person toward the facts within him and their inferences as to the future, so Jesus approaches the whole matter. Indeed, it is that which we most rev- erence and admire in him. He said so little of the future, but fixed it so certainly, so irrevocably, in a network of actual present experience in him made available to humanity. In him, we ever seem to hear the reiteration of the Greek Nemesis, "Not too much, not too much," where overstatement would Immortal Life. 205 have undermined his efficacy. We cannot with the would be dogmatist deplore the want of explicit teaching; nor can we assert with the unbeliever that in consequence of this Jesus must be said not to have taught immortality. He feels the supreme need of keeping their thoughts down to life, and of impress- ing its great reality first of all and without any rela- tion to conditions of here and there. He must not say too much of the future, lest they look ahead and forget to live. Nor will he lower his conscious cer- tainty to the belittling exigencies of proof. Every attempt at demonstrating the doctrine of immor- tality, as if it were something that needed proof and had to be thrust upon the consciousness from with- out, has reacted to the weakening of the faith of those to whom it has been directed. The ages when there has been least spiritual life have been the ages of the most elaborate attempts at proof. Outward demonstration is the lame resource of a low state of living. But read the life of Jesus, and carry out to logical deduction the entire drift of his thought, and see if the fact of a life unconscious of any possible extinc- tion is not everywhere present. Apply his principle, as seen everywhere else, and no other result will be attainable here. It is basal, and hence out of sight ; a part of every-day consciousness, and therefore not to be much talked about nor insisted upon. But what he does say has in it the positiveness of asser- tion, the calmness of a certainty which goes even beyond the statement of facts, to the habitual silence 206 Ecce Spiritus. which takes them for granted. There is a root-prin- ciple below all his incidental teaching, and to this we must go. All that he stood for necessitates and in- cludes a conception of life consciously and eternally related to God, and unaffected by the fear of death. He did not so much reveal immortality, as relieve life of the contingency of possible extinction. Jesus is here original chiefly in the conception and method of his statement rather than in the fact which he impressed. The idea of immortality was old, but he pushed the idea into reality. Nor will the claim put forth by his admirers that he actually originated or introduced a life where there was nothing but death before, stand the tests of reality. Jesus made no such claim for himself, nor could he in the nature of things have done so intelligently. The fact of enduring life is bound up in the constitution of the being received from God, nor could it by any possi- bility be divorced from it. Life cannot be given to anything which does not already live by virtue of its very creation. Death can impart only of itself, and life only of itself, but neither can pass into the other. Jesus found this fact early in his experience. Then, resting upon it as a foundation, he turned his atten- tion to men. They, and not the doctrine, are his chief difficulty. It was enough for Jesus to have brought life and immortality to light. He addresses himself to the death in man's consciousness, and finds a ready mastery there. The trouble is not that men have no potential life. The facts are all on their side. But their sole difficulty is in non-realization. Accord- Immortal Life. 207 ingly, he left the facts as they were, fundamental and indestructible, and needing no help of his ; and, with barely more than a calm inference as to their reality, he strove to bring man up to them. They were clear to him, but must be made clear to the universal com- prehension. The danger is in man, not in the facts themselves, which can be surely forgotten or tam- pered with or overlooked, but never rooted out. Therefore, Jesus directs his effort toward man, and not toward the metaphysical difficulty. He is every- where practical, and supremely fitted for effective savior ship. Let men live up to their full capacity, and the work of controversy will stop. The Chris- tianity which is to be the outcome of his spirit and to carry on his delegated work must be a simple and natural evolution of the facts of being out into con- scious and supreme exercise. It must show what makes against and harms true life, what keeps man in darkness and disbelief. It will not say to humanity, You in and of yourself are dead, — except in trespasses and sins, tamperings with the higher privilege, — but, if you embrace a technical form of faith, you will by that act inherit an immortality otherwise impossible to you. But rather it will say, You can come to con- scious perpetuity of life only through spirituality, — the method, the spirit, the principle of Jesus. It will not say, The prize of your faith will be to live for- ever, but To live will be the converting of your make- shift faith into a conscious certainty. It will have no reference to rewards of merit in its assertions as to the future, fearing punishment far less than it loves purity and truth. 208 LJcce Spiritus. People ask if they shall live after death who have not yet lived at all, and the only answer is Live now! As well display the learned conclusions of the college before nursery benches as hope to help the world's dead with the vision of heavenly glory. The certain- ties of the future lie in the positive realities of to-day. People think that they can merely exist now, and then be ushered by and by into the completest conscious- ness and enjoyment of life. But it is worse than use- less for one who does not in any sufficient sense live now to question as to the hereafter. The problem lies nearer home, while the final answer for him must yet be far away. The crucial moment is ever the present. The wise man has not far to look to find his future. And, when the experience of to-day is deep- ened and lifted to its limit of current blessedness, from that lofty altitude the mysteries of the Highest will not be too distant. Indeed, they will be mys- teries no longer, except in matters of detail, which latter in any sphere are generally interesting in pro- portion to the faintness of the perception of the central and abiding fact. With such a lofty outlook, and an inlook so pene- trating and comprehensive, we do not wonder at the calm assurances of Jesus' life. We see them taking hold of and moulding his entire nature, until the high commission grows to be part and parcel of his very consciousness; and he lives his own life in living for humanity. His was the pivotal experience. His con- sciousness of divine things stands ever in from our commoner circumference of knowledge, drawing us Immortal Life. 209 to the heart of the great reality. From the centre streams the light that makes our object and our way plain. It is the illumination of true, perfect life shining into and shaming all poorer experience. It is God's light, that only fails to brighten the outermost circumference of being because men bear too far away. The cry then is, To the centre! CHAPTER XIV. SYMBOLISM OF THE CROSS. Naturally enough, Christian interest and affection have ever centred about the tragic element in Chris- tian history. Nothing in the life of Jesus is so effect- ive with the mass of people as his sorrows. He is felt to be through these things in some especial sense the interpreter of the shadier and deeper sides of human experience. But nowhere is the attention so fixed upon this figure of the man triumphing through struggle and suffering as in the closing scenes of his life, when he stands helpless and alone before the very worst that earth can do. The boy in the temple attracts our instant notice. The hint, the promise, the suggestion of something mighty to come from this pre- mature intentness, gives an engaging flavor of romance to the deep-felt seriousness his words and attitude inspire. We are powerfully moved by the man met at the threshold of active life with the peculiar temp- tations of genius, — tempted, as such are, not so much from without as by the strong and as yet unsubdued energies in his own soul. We feel the eager beating of that Jewish heart, in which age-long hopes and deep popular currents of feeling had culminated. We seem to see the race in conflict with a new-found Symbolism of the Cross. 211 motive to the Highest in this fine, susceptible nature of its crowning character. It is the past, the nation's heart and history, the hardened fibre of its traditional thought and life, struggling against a principle which has now, for the first time, emerged into the con- sciousness of a representative it is not prepared to receive. But, when the tragic element that runs through all the lonely experience — the self-abnegna- tion from within and the painful opposition from without — culminates in the cross, all other feelings are merged in profound reverence for the man. Everything has led up naturally to this point. It is what we must have expected, feared, hoped, from the beginning. It did not seem difficult to picture this character, so consistent everywhere else, in this crowning, ordeal that was to come. But, when he actually comes before us bearing his cross in a double sense, — a sense we can scarcely hope to comprehend, — from which he rather seems to suspend himself, through that strong bending of his nature to higher necessity than to answer any trivial end of his tor- mentors, we are forced from our attitude of criticism to that of pure wonder and awe-stricken love. But the exigencies of our later mood, while not in the least affecting these primary inspirations, call for an understanding of this most striking and characteristic event in human history. If it be merely the pageant of a man dying for his convictions, as countless others in times before and since have done, we shall only vouchsafe to this particular martyrdom a mo- ment of our long attention and wonder at the mighty sacrifices of men. 212 JEcce Spiritus. If this be all, Jesus is no sterner, no more fearless and uncompromising, than many a Hebrew prophet, and is at best but the beginning of a new series of martyrs in a cause that, though newly named, is as old as humanity itself. This is a common spectacle in the history of every religious system. There are none of them which have not been built up on daily and final crucifixions innumerable. And it is not until we discover the original motive and meaning in this crucifixion of Jesus that it becomes charged with peculiar impressiveness for our minds. Mani- festly, so individual a character, a life so utterly moulded to singleness of aim, and guided by a prin- ciple never for a moment lost sight of, must have intended more than a simple spectacle in so hack- neyed a resource. It cannot be that we reverence Jesus merely because he was a martyr, but because of some peculiar and all-sufficient import in the sacri- ficial act. The Christian world has done well to insist upon the mighty meaning and saving efficacy of the cross; but, when we come to the almost universal under- standing of what is comprehended in that word, the idea for which it stands, approbation is not so easy. As a symbol, it has been made readily effective, capa- ble as it has been of conceptions popularly useful, but neither accurate nor adequate to the highest needs. It is said that the cross symbolizes an act of substitu- tion, that Jesus in this painful process of dying took upon himself the sins of mankind, paying for them and pacifying offended Deity by his blood, — a view Symbolism of the Cross. 213 utterly abhorrent to our most fundamental and cher- ished notions of God, as well as hostile to all the known facts in regard to sin and its possible vindi- cation at the bar of broken law. It mutilates the character of that consistent Being who works so nat- urally and orderly by processes grounded in the law- abiding structure of things. It so wars against our root conception of what God must be, if he be at all, as to invite the alternative of consistent atheism rather than this conception of a contradictory Provi- dence. God does not need to be appeased by butch- ery; nor have his laws 5 ordained in the beginning, ever yet failed to take care of sin in their own good way and time. By no possibility of divine or human law could one being bear the sins of another, or one death in any degree remit the universal penalty thereof. Sin is a violation of law; and Jesus said he would save from sin, but it was by restoring the law to its supremacy. It had reference to future transgressions rather than to penalty for those already committed. His salvation was one from sinfulness, from sin in the singular, and all disposition and desire to trespass, rather than from sins. He would not pamper, bat perfect the race. Least of all would he take away the necessary expiation wrought out in suffering in every individual soul, by which alone it can hope to be purified. Without entering upon a technically theological discussion, we need not suppose as a motive of the cross any such strained and arbitrary disposal of human responsibility for sin, so long as law can be 214 JBcce Spiritus. seen to be adequate for such an end; nor have we any right to ascribe to Jesus in this one experience a con- ception of God which violates the entire spirit and teaching of his life. Nor can we agree in that view which regards the cross as a necessary test of unselfish devotion to man- kind. This supposed motive still needs a farther motive, a specific end to be gained, inasmuch as to merely die for another is a questionable service. Our ideas of martyrdom have been modified to this extent that we now think it a greater test of devotion to live in self-sacrificing helpfulness to one's friends than too easily to resign the struggle. We are all familiar with the terror of death, but there are no sensitively organized natures that do not dread many of the alternatives of living more. In spite of all our shrink- ing, the fact remains that death is one of the readiest solutions for countless evils, a solution which men accept every day rather than face the inevitable. Voluntary death is not a common type of courage, but of cowardice. Bitter as the ordeal of death is, it takes vastly more bravery and strength of character to live than to die. " When all the blandishments of life are gone, The coward sneaks to death — the brave live on." The sufferings of parting from the flesh are as noth- ing to the despair and miseries of earth. Criminal statistics show that the almost universal choice of State prisoners is the gallows rather than such life as is left to them, while the annual record of suicides Symbolism of the Cross. 215 indicates which way the balancing stands in many minds. There are many things, evidently needful and salutary to be borne, which men would rather die than meet. The courage is all on the side of living. Jesus sees this, and it is in no temporizing spirit that he approaches his martyrdom. He can look ahead and see what is before him, a life whose trouble at the best would far outweigh any that he has ever known, a life of hunted tearfulness, of strange and bitter vicissitudes, of faithless friends and implacable ene- mies, a life stripped of joy and rest because of this salvation men despised. He knew that the short-lived agony of the cross was preferable to this. The shame of it could not touch his conscious purity. The pain of it could not daunt one already pained to his being's core with the almost universal spiritual death of the people he loved and tried, with so little apparent suc- cess, to serve. He saw that, if it were possible in the exigencies of the higher purpose which by his martyr- dom he was to subserve, it would have been better for him to live. Spiritually, they needed the contact and constant inspiration of the man. They would suffer for the want of his clear insight into shams, his caustic rebuke of all superficiality, his moving assertions of oneness with God. He foresaw, what speedily fol- lowed his death, the temporizing and worldliness, the fatal tendency to formalize, that sprung up the moment his living influence was withdrawn. Doubtless, he longed to stay, had not a grander necessity absorbed his attention. He did not accept the cross as the 216 Ecce Spiritus. opportunity for a great spectacular triumph, which should henceforth catch the wandering thoughts of men, and call to himself ready sympathy and not over- discriminating regard. The great spiritual hero of humanity stands above any such vulgar resort, with attention fixed alone upon the heart of things and the very highest possible motives. As yet we have found no intelligence in the crown- ing act of the great Christian drama. We still lack adequate motive for so commonplace a claim upon the admiration and wonder of mankind. If we go no fur- ther than this, the cross rather tends to weaken than to strengthen our regard, seeming, as it does, so unworthy of the exalted mind, the consistent and pro- gressive purpose of the man. So far, Ave have not seen, what ought certainly to appear, the necessity for the cross. We cannot fully yiel 1 our reverent allegi- ance until we see some place that it is to fill in the unbroken chain of Christian influences. Its sacred significance lies not with us, but in itself. We are not responsible for even our indifference, before it has shown some mighty claim in and of itself to our faith and affection. Jesus, then, was here, as before indicated, for the full and perfect development of the spiritual idea. This was his sole object, — the complete triumph of spirit over everything else, and the due subordination, not condemnation, of matter. There are eternal con- siderations, and low and temporal ones. What is their order and place in the true scheme of life? That is the one vital question of life and religion. Symbolism of the Cross. 217 Jesus had shown this everywhere else, had proven the principle in every minor issue of experience; and there yet remained for him the supreme test, the crowning expression, which, was to fix. the application for all emergencies and forever. His way to the headship of the race lay through martyrdom of the lower to the higher. Without the cross, his system would have been incomplete. It meant sinrply No Compromise. Bit how? Could he not have shown this in some other way than dying? Let us ask again, What wars against spirit? The answer is, Low subserviency to matter. What stands in the w r ay of life? Death. If men can rise above these two in conscious suprem- acy, their salvation is assured. But to meet death from the stand-point of superiority is both the most difficult and most comprehensive test. As an ordeal, it tries as nothing else the strength and fineness of our spiritual vision. It is not one of the issues, but the issue of experience, most sharply outlining as it does the two spheres and the respective motives of each. If spirit is to triumph, here is the thick and bitterness of the fight. But this is not all. Our motive is not yet complete, until we see the peculiar necessity which existed for this in the case of Jesus. At the very outset, the spir- itual principle for which he stood was brought into contrast with considerations of external grandeur and power. All through his ministry, he struggled with a gross and radical misapprehension in the minds of his followers. To them, he was the possible restorer 218 JEcce Spiritus. of the lost Jewish splendor, which all their traditional expectations had taught them to look for in a Messiah. Even at the last, the old hope had not been completely rooted out, in spite of the stern rebukes of the Mas- ter, who was offended by nothing more than by this clinging literalism, this narrow nationalism, against which his pure spirituality seemed to make so little impression. The conviction grows with him that this attitude on their part, which is typical as well of the attitude common to all men and times, must ever stand in the way of a complete realization of his object. The line must be closely and clearly drawn, the tem- poral distinguished from the Eternal. The spiritual must rise up clear of the low entanglements of sense. The spiritual must be all in all. It had become neces- sary, such were the conditions surrounding him, to yield something, to compromise somewhere, or to suf- fer at the hands of the powers he had offended. He could not longer carry on his work, and hope to escape the vigilance that was waiting to entrap him. If he would not yield his principle and mitigate his inci- dental hostility to the Jewish Church and the Roman government, he knew that he must die. He could not compromise. Hence the alternative. But in all this there was more than a simple dying for the truth. It was in a special sense the natural and necessary evolution of his spiritual principle out of abstract conditions into organic unity and practical effectiveness. He did not die merely to avoid re- nouncing his position, but to carry out and fulfil it. It was a positive, not a negative step in his progres- Symbolism of the Cross. 219 sive career. It had meanings deeper than at first sight appeared. Dying, under such circumstances, be- came the only life. It was in reality a life issue with him, and not one of death. It was the insistence on the essential, the grand assertion of indifference, on the part of one so occupied with the vital fact, to all accidental phases of experience, which is the neces- sary condition of true life everywhere. It was here that the spiritual neophyte would halt and fear and tremble in the insufficiency of all partial acceptance of the highest. Death is the door at which all sys- tems of faith wait in trial; but the spirituality of Jesus takes the initiative, and tries death itself at the bar of a conscious and positive superiority. The suspended Christ means this, — means spirituality. The body is there, but we do not see it. Least of all would we try to picture the cross in all its gross and hideous details. We would not linger too long on the outward symbol, hastening on to the real cross, which was and is inward. It was the soul that triumphed, not the body. It is spirituality that comes out clear and distinct from the fading outlines of the earthly man at rest in the painless sleep of death. But mark the j)eculiar conditions of Jesus' martyr- dom. He was young, barely past thirty, in the full health and vigor of early manhood. The records do not agree with the common impression which makes Jesus one of that order of beings which we call effemi- nate and poetic. They represent no weakly dreamer, but a man whose life was passed out of doors, whose 220 Ecce Spiritus. arms were apt at labor, and whose pulses were keyed to the enjoyment of uninterrupted health. No phase of nature, and nature's zest in purely physical bright- ness and perfection, escaped him. There are no mor- bid fancies, no touches of melancholy, in this emi- nently healthy nature, which so willingly relinquished a world it loved for the sake of that which demanded greater love and allegiance. Indeed, that world meant both more and less to him who read deeper into its meanings than to those who lived upon the sur- face. Surely, he was not incapable of being stirred by the prospects which in a special sense it held out to him. Not yet was he hunted and persecuted to the extent of weaning him from the love of the world. He did not die a weary, broken-down, dis- heartened man. But two years had passed since he began his wonderful work, a period full of many inspiring thoughts and pleasant memories; and he was yet fresh and free and youthful. There were no wrinkles on the forehead of the face, which in its dark outlines bore the sternness of the prophet race from which he was descended, together with the marks of that later and peculiar fineness which had stamped him as of a new race. Although estranged from Judaism, he was yet a Jew in all outward char- acteristics, and had none of the Grecian fairness which Christian idealism has ascribed to him ; never- theless, the character and physique were Grecian in that pure and painless love of nature, which reacted in physical health and harmony. Contrast the sickly body of Paul, with its evident Symbolism of the Cross. 221 influence on his mind, his hasty and sometimes narrow judgments, his sudden shif tings of religious ground, his volcanic impetuosity of temperament, with the calm and normal poise of Jesus' nature. Paul was always longing for martyrdom, only too ready to con- front death with his consuming zeal. Jesus, on the other hand, approaches his cross in calm deliberation and a full conviction of the meaning of the act. He will not be caught unaware nor surprised into the sit- uation, observing the wise caution of a man who is to make external misfortune serve an end determined from within. He will not hasten the end ; but, as the end draws near, he will himself go to Jerusalem. So the sacrifice of Jesus becomes representative. It is a man giving up all of the lower; we do not use the word merely in its moral relations, but relatively, as referring to spheres of enjoyment that might offer a possible compromise with the highest. His posi- tion is inclusive, and covers all the ground. In all of its shadows, the light of his pure principle is clearly brought to view. Jesus could not have perfected his spirituality and made it plain to others in any differ- ent way. From one side, it has many relationships with the lower, as being the higher law that completes it, but also, from another side, it stands out opposed and uncompromising. The antagonism of matter is not in itself, but in the human attitude which accepts the material in place of something more enduring. The cross is that line of demarcation between com- promise and conscientiousness, whereon is the rad- ical insistence of Christianity. Along this line there 222 JEJcce Spiritus. is nothing given man to enjoy in which it is not law- ful to participate. But until this line is fixed, not arbitrarily, but as an essential, vital principle, not as a narrow letter, but as the very spirit of nature's laws, it is useless to talk of salvation. It was necessary, then, that Jesus should put this principle to severest test. He must furnish not a single ray, but the broad sunlight of life. There must be no situation and no emergency uncompr eh ended in his sublime attestation of the highest. So long as he can live out his prin- ciple, he will gladly live; but it must be the princi- ple that lives, and no vain semblance of himself. Up to the date of the cross, he had shown his principle of life : then and henceforth, it showed itself and him. lie did not die, but life as a concession and death as a terror. The spiritual facts were structural, but this was their first realization and expression. God had never been afar off, but now he was near in possible con- sciousness. Sin was still here, but it had come under a new law. Men were called upon not to think too much of their imperfections, but to dwell on the highest. Human lowness had found its alternative. In them, the alternative was to live the higher; in him, it was to live also, until a compromise ajDpeared, and then it was to die. He did, indeed, bear the sins of the world in his suffering to show men the way of life, but he was no spiritual Atlas with human- ity's load on his back. He bore them rather in the hand of a new and better possibility. A soul was born in them, with at last the conscious power to transform, not deny, the inheritance of matter. Symbolism of the Cross. 223 So a natural, healthy spirituality rises out of the grave, calling upon mankind in practical application, not necessarily to die for its attainment, but to vital- ize in experience the principle of life it brought to manifestation. To live is the burden even of the cross. CHAPTER XV. THE FAITH OF THE FUTURE. The test of a religion being its practical effective- ness, — the widest possible adaptability to the need of men both individually and collectively, — what shall we say of Christianity as it has been herein considered in view of this demand ? Surely, all has not been said in the fullest statement of its abstract relations. The question still remains unanswered, whether religion is to pass from the common keeping of the race and become a sublimated and purely individual commun- ion between man and God. Are the needs of human- ity as such to be left unrecognized in any future ser- vice? Is the human element to disappear from the worship of God, man caring no longer for the nearness of man, but only for union with the divine? In short, is a church possible without supernaturalism ? Is there any bond of sympathy and fellowship in a pure Christian spirituality? Manifestly, the time for such a criticism will come when it is seen how the principle of Jesus creates a new life and dependence in the individual soul, estab- lishing as it did in his case, and does in the case of all, direct relations with the Father, and putting the law of life in the heart and members over any The Faith of the Future. 225 external statement or bond of union. Not only will this spiritual independence be urged against it, but also that the strength of religion as a power in the world has ever been in the creeds and formulas which have banded and kept men together in a tan- gible sort of way. But, whenever the criticism may come, the question as to the continuance of the Church is already here, born not of any fresh interpretation of Christianity, but of that earlier traditional form which with all its practical and tangible appliances has been so long on trial before the world. The negative spirit of the age, the product of false assumption and unreason in religion, has reached not only to the theologies, but to the instrument of all theologies, the Church itself. One whose interests and affections are still in the sanctuary is startled and disturbed by the frequently expressed opinion that the Church has had its day, and will in the future be voted inoperative and obso- lete. A ready reference is had to the statistics, which reveal a steadily decreasing rate of church attendance, a falling off in that practical test of faith which leads young men to prepare themselves for the work of the ministry, as well as a universal lessening of that tradi- tional reverence paid aliRe to ordinances and func- tionaries in the Church, which is the surest sign when found that organized religion lias a vital hold upon the people. The drift of the age is seen on the one hand in that return to ecclesiasticism which means retreat from the living issues of the day to safety within sanctified walls ; and on the other in the more 226 Ecce Spiritus. wide-spread and characteristic tendency toward indif- ference as to surroundings and toward simplicity of method in the public approach to God. Between which two, it is feared that the instrumentalities of religion are losing their influence, and that, whatever of unseen and individual communing there may be, there will soon be no longer any "visible church"; that whatever religion may run the gauntlet of nine- teenth century criticism will remain a personal experi- ence rather than seek to become a public expression. There can at the outset be no doubt that religion is primarily personal and private. Christianity in the hands of Jesus becomes in the main an individual oneness with God, so irresistibly full and inspiring as to constitute its chief leverage for moving men. The mighty aim and inference of his completed work is the establishment of like personal communion in all men. With Jesus, they are to first realize God within. All other steps fail until this is accom- plished. The individual is first and last; but Jesus shows clearly the qualification which cannot for a moment be overlooked, that the individual finds accretion and completion from two sides, the human and the divine. There is a law of the soul, broader than that of strict individualism, which necessitates sympathy and strength in union, which asserts that any adequate view of religion must not only recog- nize creator and child, but be as truly the unit of human interests, making men one in the highest, har- monizing race life, and establishing out of multiform humanity the crowning order of Mankind. The Faith of the Future. 227 Religion can never be divorced from the widest possible conception of a Good and a True that are not merely personal and peculiar, but in the best sense universal. It exists to bring God and man together, but also, since the way between them lies at least in jDart through humanity, to find a nearer relationship of man to man. It has to do with the higher family, founded on more enduring ties, of which God is surely Head, but to which no child of his is wholly unrelated. Man's love to God must ever be man's love to man. Every approach to divinity is a new step taken in the direction of the highest human rela- tions. There is no possible partialness in the highest expression of man's nature. This being so, the demand, the necessity for a church, will still exist with the survival of the relig- ious instinct, no matter how many changes in its out- ward form may come. It may or may not be true that the plainest assembly room will be deemed suffi- cient, or even that the " Forest Hymn " of Bryant will supersede the costly chants of the sanctuary in a worship beneath the skies and trees. We are not concerned with incidentals, but with the vital fact that service of some sort, in which there is the union of man to God and man to man, on a higher plane than the ordinary, is an essential part of religion. More even than this, it is born of the needs of human nature, and not in any danger of being outgrown until that nature itself radically changes. But here we have a fixed quantity. Experience is one and the same thing for all ages. It is the old sorrow that 228 Ecce Spiritus. mirrors itself in every fresh-falling tear. Our joy is as ancient as life. There is in general no new expe- rience and no new need. There is different consist- ency and relation in the elements of life, but life's problem and hunger repeat themselves in tireless adherence to the purpose they were given to serve. Comforts and alleviations, new data and fresh incen- tives, in no wise essentially modify that hunger of the nature for human nearness and spiritual help. A stricter logic may enter into the mental acceptance, but the condition of want is a never-varying quantity. And, until the facts of human nature change, we need not be apprehensive of any greater indifference to the true service of God. Indeed, with the purification of the instrument, which must follow a clearer conception of spirituality as it was in Jesus, we must believe the Church will attain fresh suggestiveness and meet more general acceptance. The worn-out associations will take on a new significance as God comes closer to the realiza- tion of men, and as men in ever-widening circles of knowledge grow to a truer understanding of each other and themselves. New life and beauty, and a power never dreamed of before, will come to a com- munion that asks for no compromise on the part of any believer, which demands for its acceptance the entire rounded orbit of man's faculties. The bond will be sweeter, stronger, which is found in the com- mon nature of men, and not in arbitrary conditions which require either a peculiar mental constitution or an intellectual compromise for their reception. The Faith of the Future. 229 A church is the formulation of the religious idea. It is spirituality organized. There is a public life as there is a private, and with it the necessity for a pub- lic as a private recognition of the Being who is as truly the Father of Humanity as of the individual soul. In any other than a purely selfish conception of its character and mission, religion must meet the wants of the race viewed in their most comprehensive aspect. But here is seen the chief difficulty. Here, primarily, the assumed Church of Christ found its greatest stumbling-block. To organize effectually and lastingly is one of the most difficult of undertakings in any sphere, and it is especially so in spiritual mat- ters. The bond must be firm, but at the same time elastic. It must not be from without, but from within. It must represent the love and mental alle- giance of the subject, and that, too, in their develop- ment rather than in any period of apparent fixity. There must be conviction, but no coercion, in its adherence. It must touch the purpose it would sub- serve at the one vital point, leaving all unessentials to the easy play of individualism. Mark how absolutely fitted to such a standard was the Master's own requirement. Jesus was too prac- tical not to see the necessity for combined and con- centrated effort in an age so spiritually dead as the one to which he especially came, and he organized such elements as he could find to spread the gospel life and light. But what simplicity of method, what understanding of human nature, and of the theoret- ical necessities of truth in its spread and continuance! 230 JScce Spiritus. Such as come to him, touched with the new fire from heaven, he sends unto all nations. First, they are to go, half the consecration resting in the readiness, the willingness, and determination to do something. Then, they are to preach the gospel to all men. The gospel was the bond of organization. And what was it? The good news. And what news so good, so important, so sufficient for unitizing purposes ? That a way had been found back to the Father, a way so simple, so sure, so comprehensive that henceforth there need be no stumbling along blind theologic paths; that God had been brought back from that far corner of the universe where a false Jewish reverence had thrust him, to a possible realization that indeed " Closer is He than breathing, and Nearer than hands and feet " ; that man had found himself anew, in the facts of a nature perhaps hitherto suspected, but now for the first time consciously known ; that the plane of life was lifted \ that human nature had passed from heir- ship to something of inheritance in the divine ; that new dignity and grander responsibility were awaiting the acceptance of a higher human destiny. It was peace on earth and good-will to man. Not immunity from outward struggle and warfare, — for Jesus said that he came to bring not peace, but a sword, in this sense, — but inward harmony, self-containment, spirit- ual tranquillity. No guide can take us beyond the battles, but this one shows us that in soul equipoise is the only possibility of peace. It was an adjustment The Faith of the Future. 231 and reconciliation of all shortcomings and contentions out of a spiritually awakened and regally conscious nature. It was such good-will to men as was willing to live this out before them in the face of every temptation and sacrifice. There were, to be sure, other incidental commands as to the manner of their going, the purely spiritual attitude they were to assume toward those to whom they preached ; but, in general, the bond that held them to a single aim was the ability and willingness to live the life he did, and to restore men in the same silent and effectual ways to their conscious manhood. He organized his followers solely on the basis of practical effectiveness. There was no doctrinal test in their coming or their going. To believe in spirituality as it was in him was the only requirement. The bond had reference to mutual helpfulness, charity, sympa- thy in action. It was to do something, with reaction- ary effect upon men, not on the Church. The Church was made for men rather than man for the institu- tion. Such, we believe, the bond will be in the future. The organization of the Church will be inclusive, not exclusive, and will exist to do the needed Christ-like work among all classes of sinning and suffering men. Philanthropy, charity, enlightenment, and all manner of unselfishness and goodness, will be the gospel that shall bring men together, and hold them in unity. Spiritual propagandism will take the place of sectari- anism, oneness of spirit and intention will supersede community in opinion. 232 Ecce Spiritus. A glance at the thought and life of our time will show that the drift is in this direction. There is a sense in which men are growing apart, in which individuality is taking the place of the old-time dependence of one upon another. The race is stronger, more self-centred than formerly; and the element in social life which deified the pattern in men has given place to that of independent personality. And yet in many ways, and on the whole, the ten- dency seems to be in the other direction. Individ- ualism has culminated in an age of coldness and exclusion, and out of the undue pursuit of selfish ends comes a desire to draw closer the lines of com- mon interest and helpfulness. The necessity is felt upon every hand of reducing as far as possible the waste of living by sharing minor cares and responsi- bilities. To combine, to concentrate, to simplify, is the desideratum of an age in which life has become complex. Race existence first tends to spread itself : then there comes the need of a closer union. A social and an intellectual life so vast as ours is the condi- tion of an immense loss in possible power, and men are seeing that the only resource is to get nearer together again. Inventive genius, that is doing so much to simplify all processes of toil, cannot obviate the necessity for that centralized social effort by which alone human life is made easy and pleasant. Indeed, it is working precisely in this direction. It annihilates distance, enabling men to exchange thoughts from separate homes or places of business, nay, from continent to continent, almost as readily The Faith of the Future. 233 as if they were in the same room. There is no longer any isolation. Our city streets and railway lines, even ocean itself, have become great whisper- ing galleries, in which all the world becomes as one family. There is a movement in large cities looking toward many homes in one, where the care and drudgery of separate households, by being shared, are felt by none ; and in the country the same ten- dency is working toward a village life based upon new scientific and social conditions, which shall do away with the loneliness and dearth of resource which char- acterize ordinary farm existence. The old-time am- plitude of surroundings, with its attendant individ- ualism, gives way before a constantly increasing population. Outward need and intensifying experi- ence demand the sacrifice of a few for the good of the many. Civilization cannot go on without this consolidation for mutual convenience and improve- ment, and its work will be seen in the future still more than in the past. The inevitable result of this is a more intimate knowledge of the affairs of men and nations, and an intensification of the feeling of human brotherhood. The community of human interests is established on a new and firmer basis. Our close commercial rela- tions, our wide-spread means of almost instant infor- mation, in a day when the press is the gossip-monger of the world, have tended to break down the barriers of ignorance and prejudice which keep men apart. Education is of the comparative sort, inclusive, not exclusive. Attention was formerly given entirely to 234 JEJcce Spiritus. the "branches," but now it is the root below all branches toward which in their separate study the effort is directed. A science or religion, a history or language, can only be left when its relativity to others and the whole is ascertained. It is not con- sidered by itself, so much as with reference to sci- ence, religion, history, or language in their entirety. The remarkable stimulus of steam was not confined to external enterprise, but had as well its influence upon charity, fellow-feeling, oneness of thought and life. While the sects have been separating men, a stronger current in the life of the world has been slowly drawing them together. Religion is now more frequently seen to be one, as government is ; and it is the people, not priest nor potentate, who have both in hand. "Behold the people is one," is again the cry in a new and far more fundamental sense than that it took as the utterance of Hebrew race life. The people is one, and nothing that deeply concerns its slightest part can be a matter of indiffer- ence to the whole. A Church is coming, independent of state or artificial process^ out of this very com- munity of life and interest, which will more nearly realize that simple social life in things religious which Jesus created and sanctioned. The arbitrary barriers which have separated men, and the externalities which have been as stumbling-blocks, will still further give way to conditions common to all, leaving noth- ing to be gained by any form of exclusion. Even the practical tone of life in general will be in accord with the natural desire for all hek>ful and generous com- The Faith of the Future. 235 munion in the most central and inspiring sphere of existence. There will be more rather than less relig- ious association in the future, when the greatest spiritual good of the greatest number shall be the motto of the true Church of God and man, in which sign and symbol shall in no wise shut the soul from either the perception or the realization of truth. This cannot come until the sacredness and power of the Church have been accepted from a new stand- point in the minds of men. Not until it is regarded for more than its archaeological interest, as a mere link with the past and that which preserves the sacred, will it come to its full dignity and usefulness. It asks for no excuses for its existence. It either is or is not something definite and sufficient in and of itself. There is infinite weakness and danger in the position that a person owes his attendance upon church service simply because of his children or soci- ety. There is common confession that there is noth- ing left in the Church but the occasion for setting a righteous example. To stay at home until the chil- dren are old enough to be harmed by the influence of the habit is at best but to half-save them and to insult the service of God. Either, we repeat, the Church is something in and of itself, something need- ful to every individual soul, without any reference to others or any possible jDOsing for example's sake, or it is nothing. Indeed, the need is the fixed quantity in the prob- lem. The body daily recognizes the want of nourish- ment, while countless forms of intellectual pabulum 236 Ecce Spiritus. minister to the mind. The last factor in the human trinity remains still unnoticed, and unmet with any form of stated nutriment, until that spiritual force which resides in sympathy and communion of soul with soul supplies the needed food. So long as life lasts, the various means of inspiration and impres- siveness which a true Church of God can bring to bear will have an important part to play. But the Church must be careful to recognize and meet the need. It must be honest, manly, simple, and sincere, with the manliness and simplicity of Jesus. With the gravest of responsibilities, it must be true to the highest, and yet true in all practical and helpful ways. The Church can no longer hope to stand in the - strength of impregnable doctrine, but in its own living desirableness, in the claim that is recognized by every touched and satisfied consciousness. It can always prove itself good and true in that sphere which most readily yields allegiance, the inner life of man. Here, it must pass on from bald statement to actual realization, speaking out of consciousness the last word it knows. Its virtue resides not in its spec- ulative acumen, but in its experimental certainty. It is a living voice, a personal power, and must get in close to the realities. Its appeal is to life, and it utters nothing that has not been lived. It does not hasten away from the bed of sickness or the door of death from sheer want of something to say or do, but is born of a call that antedated all the parishes, in the suffering and sweetened depths of actual experience. To have assimilated temptation and sorrow in a per- The Faith of the Future. 237 sonal triumph is the only consecration to the min- istry of God. The faith of the future, using that term in its or- ganized sense, will have to do with stimulation, and not with undue soothing of the insatiable craving to know. And yet it will be in no sense a chair of the- ological learning. The lesson will be nothing until it is driven home. It will not so much think as set others thinking. A little contagious thought is better than the most masterful but unmagnetic of ratiocina- tions. The Church will be a power in the opinions of men, but will not strive unduly to impart mere knowl- edge, seeing how readily the human mind takes to the condition of a sieve, and convinced that receptivity of mind is less vital than exercise. Well-filled tables without intellectual money and personal price have never ministered greatly to the world's strength of thought and life. The method of Jesus in thk; respect must return, in teaching men to save them- selves. He died for men, but for does not mean instead of So he thinks for the benefit of mankind, and in no sense to the lightening of its responsibility The Church is the logical result of all right think © © ing in vital fusion, and operative directly and prai tically in personal ways. To know about the soul is not enough. Soul knowledge and its utterance © o and action constitute the only religious effectiveness. The lecture is not going to take the place of the sermon ; but the sermon itself is to be taken back to the Mount, and dipped in the dews of a new con- secration. The literary function of the puipit is to 238 JEJcce Sjnritus. give way to the living : the power of personality is to do the saving work so long delegated to mere opin- ion. It is to exist, not to ornament, but to energize into vital play the realms of thought and feeling. " It is not for the preacher," says Grimm, in his recent Life of Goethe, u to offer on special occasions care- fully studied productions, afterward to be printed, but at every opportunity to pour out from a full heart living words." Life is perennially needy, but inspiration is born of the need. The faith of the future will be a life rounded from the body up to a realization of the highest spiritual prerogative. Speculation may fail, but life is larger than speculation, and may be trusted to verify its own best intuitions, and find its way out into certainty and peace. If the questions of the soul rested in any more partial hands, we might well despair for the future of religion. But, since all of man is in the need, the coming experience of his life and its history must be full of hope. So long as we are sure that we cannot get away from ourselves, we have no fear. When life ceases to be all there is, it will be time for life to utter its complaint. Its fear has ever come from without. It can find no fear in itself, when it has come to the recognition of its essential existence. And this inward assurance will learn to find its completest expression as men come together on the higher plane, as they associate and sympathize as spiritual beings. True life needs a new insistence, which can only come in its fulness through this communion of soul with soul. "A VERITABLE HAND-BOOK OF NOBLE LIVING." THE DUTIES OF WOMEN. A COURSE OF LECTURES By FRANCES POWER COBBE. CRITICAL NOTICES. An eminent American clergyman, writing from London, says : — " It is the profoundest, wisest, purest, noblest book, in principle, aim, and tone, yet written upon the True Position of Woman in Society. It should be circu- lated far and wide among all classes of our countrywomen. It should be made a class-book in our schools. It should become the ' Hand-Book ' and Vade Mecum of young American girls." " As I turn the pages of this book, I am struck with its candor, sympathy, and insight, and wish that it might be read and pondered by both conservative and radical women. The former might learn the relation of freedom to duty, and the latter may well consider the perils which surround each onward step. „ . . Miss Cobbe might have called her book 'Old Duties in New Lights.' It must help many women to lead sincere, self-reliant lives, and to determine at critical moments what their action shall be."— Mrs. Elizabeth K. Churchill, in the Provi- dence Journal. " The best of all books on 'Women's Duties.' Now that George Eliot is gone, there is probably no woman in England so well equipped for general literary work as Miss Cobbe."— Col. T. Wentworth Higginson, in Woman's Journal. " I desire to commend it to the careful perusal of women in our own country, as a book full of timely counsel and suggestion, and to all, as a valuable contri- bution to the literature of ethics."— Julia Ward Howe, in Christian Register* " Just now, the first ' Duty of Women ' is to read this whole book with studious self-application: for it is rich in saving common sense, warm with the love of man, and consecrated by the love of God." — Miss Harriet Ware Hall, in Unitarian Review, " What is best in the whole book is that she founds her teaching for women so strongly in the deepest and simplest moral principles that her thoughts come with a force and breadth which win for them at once a respectable hearing."— London Spectator. "One of the notable books of the season. . . . No true woman can read these lectures without being stirred by them to completer life. "—Morning Star. "In Miss Cobbe's latest book, ' The Duties of Women,' there is much to be com- mended for its common sense and its helpfulness. Miss Cobbe goes down to the principles underlying the topics of which she speaks; and the strength with which she utters her thoughts is the strength of conviction and of earnest pur- pose."— Sunday School Times. " This is the very volume needed for parents to intrust to their daughters when leaving home for school, and for earnest friends to offer young brides, as a wedding gift." Fourth Edition. Cloth. 12mo. &1.00. New Cheap Edition. Paper. 25 cents. For sale by bookseller 's, and mailed, postpaid) on receipt oj the Price y by Geo. H. Ellis, Publisher, Boston. INSTITUTE ESSAYS; READ BEFORE THE " MINISTERS' INSTITUTE," PROVI- DENCE, R,I M OCTOBER, 1879. CONTENTS : Introduction, Rev. H. W. Bellows. Father, son, and Holy Ghost, Rev. S. R. Calthrop. The Relation of Modern Philosophy to Lib- eralism, Prof. C. C. Everett. Influence of Philosophy upon Christianity, F. E. Abbot. Monotheism and the Jetvs, Dr. Gustav Gottheil. The Idea of God Rev. J. W. Chadwick. The authorship of the Fourth Gospel, . . . Prof. Ezra Abfot. The Gospel of John Rev. Francis i iffany. Methods of Dealing with Social Questions, Rev. J. P. Harrison. Ethical Law and Social Order, Rev. Geo. Eatchelor. "To the reader of comparative theologies, this hook has a special interest."— Z ion's Herald. " The publication of this volume is one of the great tide-marks of theological progress in the United States"— Free Religious Index. : 'Of all the compilations to which Unitarian discussions have given rise, this will be found the most solid and meaty."— Christian Register. " The cause of Unitarianism will have to take care of itself ; hut it is a matter of great public importance when clergymen, however stationed in practical life, address themselves without reserve and without qualification to the ascertain ment of philosophic truth. How well this has heen done at the Providence meeting ot the ' Institute' is shown by this volume, which is entitled to the cor- dial attention not only of students of 'theology, but also of those interested in high truth. Those who know enough, and those whose religious svstem has been completed, had better not approach a volume which, to a seeker after facts, is wonderfully grateful and stimuhiting."— Boston Advertiser. 8vo, 280 pp. Cloth, $1. 25; paper, §1.00. THREE PHASES OF MODERN THEOLOGY? CALVINISM, UNITARIANISM, LIBERALISM. By JOSEPH HENRY ALLEN, A.M., LECTURER OX ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY IS HARVARD UNIVERSITY. " The addresses rest throughout on Christian theism, the ethical spirit, the temperate soul, vast reading, and good judgment. They are singularly dispas sionate and well balanced, and good readers will find them healthful as well as stimulating and helpful."— Boston Advertiser. 8vo, 68 pp. Paper. Price 35 cents. THE MINISTER'S HAND-BOOK, FOR CHRISTENINGS, WEDDINGS, AND FUNERALS. COMPILED AND ARRANGED By Rev MINOTJ. SAVAGE. This little volume contains a service for the "baptism of children, several forms of marriage service, and a variety of burial services, with a number of selections in prose and poetry suitable for use at funerals. At the ei d of the book are a dozen blank pages, for such additions as individual taste may indicate. It is well Erinted in clear, large type, and put up in neat, flexible binding. ire size and shape eing arranged especially for the pocket. Flexible cloth, 75 cents; full Turkey morocco, gilt edsres, stamped with owner's name in gold, $2.50. For sale by booksellers, or sent by mail by Geo. H. Ellis, Publisher, 141 Franklin Street, Boston.