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CHRIST AND HIS RELIGION.

BOOKS BY THE REV. JOHN REID.

I. Voices of the Soul Answered in God.
Fourth Thousand. i2mo. #1.75.
"It is really refreshing in this day of flashy religious catch-pennies
and pious platitudes, to meet with a calm, devout, profound thinker,
who can turn a man away from the noisy excitements about him,
and lead him down into the depths of his own soul to behold the
wonders there going on within him." — Christian Com?nonwealth.
" That the soul of man can find its hopes realized, its wants satis
fied, its fears quieted, and its measure filled in God, and in God
alone, is the leading thought of this calm and powerful book. The
thought is not new, but its presentation is most serious, original, and
suggestive." — N. Y. Observer.
" It is a work of originality and power. No educated person, be
he Christian or skeptic, will fail to read the book through if he be
gins it." — Rev. Dr. Shedd.
II. Footprints of Sorrow.
Second Thousand. i2mo. $2.00.
"The author gives gold fresh coined in the mint of his own mind.
He considers his subject under all its aspects, first showing the
sources of sorrow, then the varieties of form it assumes and its bene
fits and consolations. He has evidently learned from personal ex
perience the meaning of the term, and also where alone the healing
balm can be found. The beauty and simplicity of its style, and the
vein of touching sympathy that runs through its pages, must make
it a welcome volume to all sorrowing and afflicted readers. Its ex
quisite typographical neatness is as refreshing to the eye as its con
tents are to the heart. It merits a. large circulation." — Christian
Intelligencer. III. Christ and His Religion.

ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS.

Christ and his, Religion.

REV. JOHN REID,
AUTHOR OF " VOICES OF THE SOUL ANSWERED IN GOD," ETC.

"We must fly to our beloved fatherland. There is the Father, there our
all. What fleet or flight shall convey us thither? Our 'way is to become like
God." — Plotinus.
*'/ am the way, the truth, and the life." — Christ.

New York:
ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS,
530 Broadway. 1880.

Copyright, 1880,
By Robert Carter & Brothers.

H , >i ft

CAMBRIDGE: ST. JOHNLAND
TRESS OF STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY,
JOHN WILSON AND SON. SUFFOLK CO., N. Y.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
CHEIST IS CHRISTIANITY.
Can not describe Christ. — His moral grandeur. — Not like
the Jewish people. — Saw things as they are. — Never de
spises men. — Not troubled with mysteries. — His intellect
ual character. — Simplicity. — Devotional spirit. — No excite
ment. — His sweetness. — No mention of his conscience. —
Great by sinking. — His meekness. — Gentleness. — Tender
ness. — Self-denial. — No anxiety about eternity. — Pos
sessed all moral traits. — Difficult to understand his char
acter because it is finished. — He had surprises of charac
ter. — He is the only person I am satisfied with. — Always
reached his ideal  11
CHAPTER H
CHEIST IS hithkm A DIVINE SAVIOUB AND CHRISTIANITY IS TRUE, OB
HE IS A DARING IMPOSTOR AND CHRISTIANITY IS FALSE.
Supernatural was natural to Christ. — His miracles not like
the spurious.— Unity of his life. — Divine-human charac
ter. — Redemptive consciousness. — Idea of redemption for
a world proves it divine. — The divine at times held in
abeyance. — Was the last moment of Christ dark or bright?
— Was there progress in his idea of redemption? — To view
Christ as divine-human explains all that relates to him in
the New Testament. — The holiest men are found among
those who believe in his divinity. — If Christ merely a
man, yet spoke as if he were God, he was an impostor. —
Still, how could he be sinless, and also an impostor? — He
is true God and Saviour  38

vi Contents.
CHAPTER m.
SUPERNATURAL BEGINNING OP THE RELIGION OP CHRIST IN
THE SOUL.
1 Divine light for the mind.— 1. A consciousness of God.
—2. Of eternity.— 3. Of accountability. — i. Of sin. — 5. Of
misery.— 6. Of moral weakness. — 7. Of the way to be
saved.— H. Divine life for the heart.— 1. This produces
a holy tendency.— 2. Holy taste.— 3. Holy desire.— 4.
Holy love. — 5. Spontaneity marking all these. — Use of
second causes in conversion. — All holy beings have life
from the spirit. — DX Divine liberty for the will. — The
will by nature self-determined to evil. — A holy determi
nation in conversion. — May be a struggle in liberating the
will. — Regeneration culminates in faith. — Actions in the
mind. — Character viewed as an act  64

CHAPTER IV.
MORALITY AND THE RELIGION OP CHRIST AS DISTINGUISHED FROM
EACH OTHER.
First, what is implied in morality? — 1. An idea of a moral
law. — 2. A feeling of obligation to keep the law. — 3. An
attempt to keep the law. — Secondly, what is implied in
religion? — 1. An idea of God. — 2. A feeling of union with
God through Christ. — 3. Complete self-devotement to God
through Christ. — Morality has no element that satisfies
the law. — Religion is redemptive. — Contrast between Dr.
Gorden the moralist and Dr. Gordon the Christian. —
Sceptical element in morality. — Attempt to trust in mo
rality and also in God  89
CHAPTER V.
ETHICS OP CHRIST AS THEY CHARACTERIZE HIS RELIGION.
Leading systems of human ethics can be traced to leading
faculties of the mind.— Christian ethics demand a right

Contents. • vii
state of heart.— Love to God. — Love to Christ.— Humility.
— Not a system, but principles. — Perfection in a person
rather than in an ideal. — Obligation deepened by ethics
of Christ. — Motives multiplied. — Christian ethics the ideal
ethics  104
CHAPTER VI.
WORSHIP AS A CENTRAL FEATURE OP THE RELIGION OP CHRIST.
Simplicity of Christian worship. — Vivid conception of God
necessary to right worship. — Preaching tends to produce
this. — Also thoughtful reading of Scripture. — Worship re
demptive. — Christian emotions find their outlet in wor
ship. — Prayer distinct and burdensome. — Awe and free
dom in it. — Praise. — Worship not a means, but an end. —
Music  122
CHAPTER VII.
DECAY IN THE RELIGION OP CHRIST FROM CAUSES IN HUMAN
NATURE.
I. Decay from evils of the heart. — 1. From indifference. — 2.
Love of ease. — 3. Carelessness. — 4. Attractive sin. — 5. Sec
ular spirit. — 6. Wayward imagination. — 7. Besetting sin.
— 8. Want of simplicity. — 9. Not acting out pure feel
ings. — 10. The enmity of sin. — H. Decay from errors of
the mind. — 1. From misguided mental enthusiasm. — 2.
False philosophy. — 3. Mere abstract thinking. — 4. Rever
ence for secondary things. — 5. Diplomatic piety. — 6. Al
lowing unconverted men to unite with the Church. —
HE. Decay from a deceived conscience. — 1. Conscience
deceived by ignorance. — 2. By natural traits which resem
ble the spiritual. — 3. By prejudice. — 4. By near relation
ship. — 5. By evil habit. — 6. By tenacity in holding on to
a wrong opinion. — 7. By selfishness. — 8. By presenting
a good reason when a bad one governs. — 9. By follow
ing a first impulse. — 10. By following a cool judgment. —
11. By good running into evil  144

viii Contents.
chapter vm.
MEANS TO ARREST DECAY IN THE RELIGION OP CHRIST.
L A view of the piety of the early Christians a means to ar
rest decay in religion. — Their piety characterized by love.
— Simplicity.— Firm persuasion of the truth. — Steadfast
ness. — Christly element. — Cheerfulness. — A critical esti
mate of their character. — The mind inspired by it.—
H. Direct method of arresting decay in religion. — Re
calling a bright past-vivid conception of truth. — Repro
duction of our first experience. — Cultivating the power to
reoeive. — The power to form. — Principle governing  167
CHAPTER IX
LAWS OP PROGRESS IN THE RELIGION OF CHRIST.
First law of progress: development through the medium of
groups. — Second law of progress: development threefold.
— Third law of progress: development by epochs. — Fourth
law of progress: development antithetic. — Fifth law of
progress: development from fewness to manifoldness  197
CHAPTER X.
TO ADVANCE IN THE RELIGION OF CHRIST DEMANDS STRENUOUS
EFFORT.
A law of limitation in the bestowment of divine grace, mak
ing it necessary to struggle. — Profit and pleasure powers
in earthly life, but not in religion. — Must work through
pain. — Must do what we do not want to do. — Must not be
irritated. — Must overcome temptation. — Cultivate moral
indignation. — Also courage. — Must benefit others with
what we have. — Must have -the religion of missions. —
Church to represent the life of Christ  218

Contents. ix
CHAPTER XL
DISCIPLINE BEST EFFECTED IN THE RELIGION OF CHRIST BY THOB-
OUGHNESS IN ONE OB TWO THINGS.
The thought illustrated in the training of the intellect. —
Applied to the formation of Christian character. —First, a
substantial character formed by thoroughness in the doc
trines of sin and of God. — Secondly, by the development
of leading states of mind. — As in the sense of the infinite,
the consciousness of salvation, and the habit of self-for-
getfulness. — While the Bible looks to various duties, it
depends mainly on moral states. — In all false religions
the attention fixed on a round of services  236
CHAPTER XH.
NON-VOLUNTABY INFLUENCE AS AFFECTING THE RELIGION OP CHRIST.
Religion affected by nature. — Temperament. — Hunger. —
The countenance. — Passive virtues. — Laws of association.
— Home. — Trouble. — Death. — A graveyard. — The inevita
ble. — A spiritual atmosphere  254
CHAPTER XDX
CONCEALED GREATNESS AN ADVANCED PHASE OF THE RELIGION OP
CHRIST.
Three grades of pious men: the inferior, the medium, the
superior. — Hidden intellectual life. — Hidden religious
life. — Our feelings, repentings, and aspirations not
seen. — Great power may come from the untold wealth
of a deeply pious mind. — Success not measured by what
we see. — Inward repose. — Character not complete that is
formed by facts. — Ideal element needed. — An experience
so deep that it shades off into the indefinite. — Danger
that outward goodness will make one lose sight of the
inner life. — Christ far greater than he seemed to be ... . 279

x Contents.
chapter xrv.
BLESSEDNESS AS FLOWING FROM THE RELIGION OP CHRIST
1 Blessedness from right emotion. — From the sense of
freedom. — The working of love. — Singleness of the
spiritual. — The divine in character. — n. Blessedness
from right activity. — The unoccupied mind restless. —
Our joy does not have the proper relish because activity
not full volumed. — DX Blessedness from right passivity.
Passive states of goodness. — We look forward to a season
of repose. — I must be able to find peace by facing tho
soul. — Eternal toil not the ultimate life. — There is a sab
bath of mind. — TV. Blessedness from the attainment of a
right end. — The thought hinted at in nature. — Joy be
cause the great question of life is settled. — Joy from par
don. — We have delight when a noble work is finished.—
To find the permanent is to rest.— V. Blessedness from a
right state of oneness. — To detect a principle of unity is
satisfying. — Blessedness springs from oneness with self.
—Oneness with God.— Oneness with the holy intelli
gences of heaven  303

CHRIST AND HIS RELIGION.

CHAPTER I.
CHRIST IS CHRISTIANITY.
T I ""HERE is floating around at present what
may be called the religion of admira
tion. This admiration is awakened by the
excellencies of Christ and his religion. The
entire mind of Christendom has been eleva
ted by the continuous presence of a great
person and a great life. Even sceptical men
see a glory which they praise, and earthly
men see a heavenliness which makes them
sigh. There is a class of ultimate concep
tions in Christianity, not abstract, but with
form and life, and these charm the creaturely
mind. The idea of order is called out by the
sight of absolute harmony. We seem to be
looking at the working of God, and seem to
be hearing the words of the divine language.
The thought of the limitless strikes us with
new power. During one moment our na
ture is expanded, while during the next mo-

12 Christ and his Religion.
ment we sink into nothingness. The Man of
men appears to us as the ultimate Being.
His shadow protects us. In his presence we
are silent. Thoughtful respecting his nature,
we advance. Life comes to us from his
heart. All about Christ is striking. We have to
escape from ourselves in order to find him.
In a prosaic manner we can not reach his
life. We have to think of him ideally, as
well as through the medium of a spiritual
understanding, in order to approach some
what his actual existence. At the best we
never stand beside him and see across his
wonderful movements. There is before us
a great ocean; and only a part of it have we
explored. We may think of Christ all our
days, and at the close of them know but
Httle about him. He is a sea that never
has been sounded. That sea is the Pacific
of the universe. It is the great ocean of
God. No storms break over it. No con
flicting currents press through it. Night does
not darken it. Clouds do not overhang it.
The light of a divine day sparkles on its
bosom. Its motion reminds one of a bless
edness that is complete.

Christ is Christianity. 13
There was a moral grandeur about the life
of Christ. It makes no difference in what
circumstances we find him — painful or pleas
ant, with the rich or the poor, with the igno
rant or the educated — his moral grandeur
never departs. He does not leap into a state
of abandon, as sometimes the best of men
will do, neither is there an air of pomp or
stiffness surrounding him. He does not find
it necessary to stand upon his dignity, and
yet he is never lawless in his manner. There
is nothing of the eccentric about him. He
never uttered words which brought down the
house in a roar of laughter. The majesty of
Christ is the majesty of absolute truth and
absolute righteousness. The glory of his
character seems like the morning of heaven;
as if the blessedness of God had found a
home in his heart, and the beauty of God
were seen in every part of his being.
It is an entrancing sight to see the moon
come forth from the summit of a snow
capped mountain, or to see it rise out of
the ocean on the verge of the horizon, or
to behold it burst forth from the midst of
dark and angry clouds. Christ rises in this
way out of the midst of an obstinate and

14 Christ and his Religion.
perverted race. Though a Jew, he seems
not to belong to that people. His lan
guage, figures of speech, form of worship,
and a few other characteristics, are about
all that mark him off as strictly Jewish.
He had a spontaneity of development that
never has been seen in any mere man.
There were no extrinsic follies hanging
around him, — no whims, prejudices, or su
perstitions. Christ did many things that horrified the
Jewish people. He seemed to them to be
a great deceiver; one that was doing his
best to lead men to destruction; one that
must be watched, secured, and condemned.
Then what strange truth he announced in
their hearing! How they were startled by
it! How many times they were enraged!
How they grew worse instead of better
under his preaching! Even some of his
professed disciples would leave him, think
ing that he was unreasonable; that he was
doing evil instead of good; that he did not
understand the signs of the times; that he
did not seem to know the people among
whom he Hved. There was a great deal
of secret as weU as pubHc murmuring in

Christ is Christianity. 15
regard to his ways, showing that he did
not harmonize with the men of his own
land and time.
Christ had the faculty of seeing things
as they are. He did not rest with appear
ances. He lived in the midst of the real.
Men and things stood right before him: he
could see them with a kind of direct vision.
This was not the case with him during
some favored hour: all through the hours
his eye was fastened on the real. Men
might come to him with great art intending
to entrap him, but with a single glance he
sees through their manner and their schemes.
That which gave weight to aU that Christ
spoke with reference to the character of
men, was the fact that he did not view
them as they appeared to be, but as they
were in their heart. This dealing with real
persons, and not with persons as they were
silvered over for the occasion, startled many,
and broke through the conventionalisms of
society. Christ looked at every thing in this real
istic way. All kinds of thoughts came forth
from their hiding places; came forth trem
bling into the light; and he saw them and

16 Christ and his Religion.
announced them with aU the sharpness of
their identity. No doubt the crowds of
curious people who gathered around him
were frequently searched as they heard his
direct statements. He must have seemed to
many of them as a prophet of God. When
he spoke of sin and hoHness, death and
judgment, heaven and hell, how much they
meant ! Souls and subjects seemed to be
dissected by him. It is no wonder that
"the people marvelled greatly."
Although Christ looked straight into souls,
and of course saw a great deal of wicked
ness, he is never misanthropic. In every pos
sible way men tried to entrap him, man
ifesting • hypocrisy and deadly hate, yet no
symptom of ill-will appears on his part.
Some truly pious persons are apt to look
with contempt on certain classes. It is not
easy to treat respectfully the fickle multi
tude with their follies and spites, the un
derhanded with their pretence of fairness,
the great men who are small, the ignorant
who are proud, the friend who becomes
an enemy. It is true that Christ hated
sin; hated it as no man ever did- but
he could do that without having any feeling

Christ is Christianity. 17
of maHce against the sinner. No mere out
ward obeisance did he pay to the wicked,
while enmity lurked in his heart. He nev
er tried to catch men by appeaHng to their
weaknesses, that he might scorn them af
ter they had been beguiled by his subtilty.
He honored aU because of their relation to
God and immortality. He had no feeling
of caste. He could mingle with pubHcans
and sinners in order to benefit them. The
poor and illiterate children of God he wel
comed as warmly as he did the rich and
the educated disciples.
Men who have reached any maturity of
inteUect are troubled more or less with the
mysterious things which belong to the divine
system. There are seeming confusions that
we can not harmonize, and apparent con
tradictions that we can not reconcile. The
mind therefore wanders as one who has lost
his way, and doubts by reason of the strange
things which strike the soul. Wrong feel
ings arise in the heart; perplexity torments
the understanding; unhappiness eats into the
troubled spirit. Now, nothing of this kind
of experience is seen in Christ. He seems
to have been able to look over the system

18 Christ and his Religion.
of God, finding nothing in that system that
threw him into a state of doubt. Where to
us there is intricacy, to him there was plain
ness. He had the faculty of generaHzation
as we have not. He could seize upon a
principle of unity that gathered up into it
self facts and truths that we either do not
see, or do not understand when we do see.
The intuition and grasp of a sinless mind
are very different from the same traits in a
mind that is fallen. The logic of hoHness is
a great harmonizer, while sin is a great di
vider. Christ did not attempt to explain
away the dark features of the creation as
some wise men have attempted to do, hop
ing by such means to find rest. If sin and
misery are puzzles, he does not try to lessen
the misery by lessening the sin. He rather
holds up to view the exceeding maHce of
depravity, and intensifies the mental pain in
stead of weakening it. His high attitude of
life, standing on the mountain summit of
being, while we are away down in the val
leys below, enabled him to take in a mul
titude of particulars, which, if we could be
hold them, would quiet us, even as they
quieted him. If we had the character and

Christ is Christianity. ig
standpoint of Jesus, our perplexities would
give way to his peace: faith would rest in a
wisdom that is divine, and in a goodness
that is perfect.
There was a mental character to Christ that
was pecuHar to himself. Though mingling
with men, he seemed to have made his home
among the stars; breathed there the atmos
phere of God; was therefore touched by
divine powers; his understanding in this
way receiving a purity that stamped it with
singularity, causing it to be out of the
plane of even the best minds of the race.
He had laws of association that connected
themselves with the higher worlds of exist
ence; and these same laws fastening them
selves to the earth and man, started trains
of thinking that had aU around them a
celestial radiance. His attachment to the
whole range of truth threw a sanctity over
his understanding, as if that same under
standing had been formed out of the eter
nal ideas, the archetypes of the creation
seeming there to be at home. It is evident
also that the poetical mind belonged to
Christ. Not merely do we see this poeti
cal mind in the parables which he uttered,

20 Christ and his Religion.
but in the rhythm of his common language,
in the harmony of his thoughts, and in the
music that chanted through his life. His
soul seemed to be a poem; a poem that
related to God and man, to time and eternity;
having in it the deep wail of grief, and the
heaven of joy.
There is a beautiful simplicity in the char
acter of Christ. Nothing appears that is
forced. There is a certain freedom and ease
that strike one favorably. His varied per
fections have as much naturalness about them
as the fruit of a tree. His single aim, which
ran through the whole of his life, made his
character to be definite and unmixed. Al
though he may appear strange to us, he
never appears strange to himself. He never
goes so far in goodness as to astonish him
self. He has no favored hour during which
he performs a class of duties that are remem
bered ever after as out of the range of his
common life. The virtues of Jesus stream
forth from his soul with as much beauty and
power as the rays of Hght stream forth from
the sun. In fact his character has such
singleness and dehcacy that we think of
it as formed out of the unbroken rays of

Christ is Christianity. 21
Hght. There is an ethereal cast to it which
reminds us of heaven and of God.
His soul is always in a devotional state.
He never loses this by extraordinary cares
and labors. Whether he works or worships
the devotional spirit is always fresh and
fervent. To commune with God was the
normal state of his being. A night in prayer
was only a chapter of that volume of suppli
cation which was uttered by his heart during
aU the days of his Hfe. Whether in syna
gogue, or by the rushing waters of Jordan;
among the busy crowds of men, or in the
deep solitudes of the desert; in the humble
dwellings of the poor, or dying in agony
on the cross — prayer ascended from his soul
as the vapor ascends from the infinite sea.
No cry ever entered heaven Hke that which
Jesus uttered, and no answer ever came
down to bless men Hke that which foUowed
his suppHcation. As he had no sins of his
own that needed forgiveness, he could only
ask that pardon might be extended to oth
ers. His prayer always went clear up to
God; never hindered by doubts and fears.
His dependence was complete; death could
not shake it. The echoes of his prayer even

22 Christ and his Religion.
now seem to be sounding through our souls,
and answers come down upon us like the
dew that falls upon the hill of Zion. On
the stormy days of life some favored mes
sage may reach us, as if a postman had come
with it from the climes of God. Christ's
soul is full of prayers for us all, and to
kens of his love may reach us before we
pass away.
The life of Je#sus was not struck upon a
high key of excitement. There was courage,
power, majesty; but nothing of the feverish
and the eruptive. It was not monotonous
and tame. There were hills and valleys to
diversify it; then straight pathways, with
flowers and trees of Hfe planted on either
side of them. No doubt there was fire in the
character of Christ, a divine flame, but it was
finely controUed. He does not dash off with
impetuosity one hour, and sink into languor
the next. He was earnest without being
fierce, and calm without being duU. No one
could think of him as a mere religious enthu
siast. He is always master of himself, and
master of the situation in which he may be
placed. There were times when he seemed
to be terrible with justice, but the terrible-

Christ is Christianity. 23
ness was divine. In his style of address
there was nothing of the flaming orator.
There was power, but it was as near as pos
sible the simple power of truth and goodness:
as if Truth and Goodness themselves were
speaking. Whatever he may be doing and
whatever he may be saying, he never ex
hausts the spiritual contents of his being.
There was a certain sweetness about Jesus
which gave a coloring and character to all
that he did. Men are apt to emphasize their
great efforts: Christ marched forward very
much like God. " He did not strive nor cry,
neither was his voice heard in the streets."
Persons "wondered at the gracious words
which proceeded out of his mouth." We
can not speak of Christ as being either
saintly or seraphic. His righteousness had
aU the pecuHarity of his own nature. To say
that he was a great religious genius has no
meaning: as well say that he was a great re-
Hgious naturalist. There was nothing of the
ascetic about him: he was a veritable man
among men. Sanctimoniousness does not
appear in his character. He does not play
with pious words. He was not distant and
morose; yet to say that he was genial would

24 Christ and his Religion.
not express the exact truth. There was a
something about him which gave character to
aU his actions; and that something we do not
possess. He Hved in an atmosphere that does
not surround us. He seems Hke a wondrous
cloud that had come from the skies of eter
nity. Some parts are exceedingly radiant
with heavenly glory, so that palaces of light
can be seen in it, as if they were the habita
tions of the angels or the homes of the saved.
Other parts are soft and serene with the
chaste beauty of a morning in spring, when
the air is full of life and fuU of peace. A
healing power seems to be aU about it as
if the virtues of God crowned it, and then
dropped down lightly upon souls as the dew
upon herbs. Wherever this cloud goes there
is health. The fainting spirit by it is quick
ened, and the disconsolate soul made glad.
The gentle rain descends from it like that
which fan's in heaven; making each heart
to be a garden of the Lord, with fruit trees
bearing fruit, and flowers fragrant with the
odors of love. On the scorching days of
time the weary dwell under its shadow, and
are bathed as in a celestial fountain of life.
Its grandeur never departs, neither does its

Christ is Christianity. 25
beauty become less. It is the joy of souls,
and the treasury of all that is good.
No writer of the Bible speaks of the
conscience of Christ. We should have sup
posed that one who acted with such purity
would have had his conscience stand out
like a star in the darkness, or like a light
house on a rock amid the dangers of night.
But, perhaps, a reason for this omission is
found in the very nature of Christ's activ
ity. He does not seem to act so much
from his conscience as from his heart. His
whole life upon earth is to be explained
upon the principle of love. It was not
mere duty that brought him here and that
kept him here, but it was the transcendent
power of a benevolent affection. He stands
forth as supremely great, because he mani
fested a love which no one else could man
ifest. A burden rested upon him which no
one else could carry. The love was so dis
interested that it took the body and soul
of Christ and deHvered them up as a sacri
fice to God.
There was a greatness in him that re
sulted from sinking, rather than from ris
ing. When a man by continuous effort

26 Christ and his Religion.
ascends from a low position in life to one
that is high, we are accustomed to call
such a person great. In fact that is the
usual way that men become great among
us. The greatness of Christ, however, con
sisted in* going down; and according to
the depth of his descent, was seen the
height of his greatness. We may contem
plate his whole Hfe as but one continuous
act of condescension. He was great also
by attending to small things: men deem
themselves great by attending to great
things. Real greatness is not seen unless
the soul of it is humility. The sovereign
who becomes a slave is greater than the
slave who becomes a sovereign. To be a
kingly man is nobler than for a man to be
a king. A considerable amount of Christ's char
acter was summed up in his meekness.
There is a difficulty in attempting to repre
sent any of the excellencies of his life, be
cause the best of our earthly words which
express these excellencies are below the
standard. These best words are applied to
certain classes of men; men who are never
complete in any grace whatsoever. Sup-

Christ is Christianity. 27
pose I say of one man that he is coura
geous, of another that he is truthful, and
then of another that he is meek — aU this
is to be received in a way of human Hm-
itation; for the courage, truthfulness, and
meekness have the shadow of sin thrown
over them. The language of heaven, as
that describes any phase of goodness, must
have a wealth of meaning that is not found
in the language of earth. We must see to
it, then, that when we speak of the meek
ness of Christ, or any other trait of his
character, we view it as far above any
earthly sample that may be called by the
same name. That which we caU meekness
in Jesus is not so much a single character
istic, as it is a compound of beauties, an
extended moral state, a gem that sparkles
with many colors. When we start with
the idea that Christ was meek, we picture
to ourselves a countenance that was ra
diant with the soft light of an eternal
morning. We always remember that Jesus
had sorrow, and that his countenance made
known that fact. His meekness, therefore,
had a casting of grief, as when the sun
goes down in the midst of blue clouds.

28 Christ and his Religion.
There must have been a peculiar expres
sion about his eye. The image of meek
ness must have been seen there as in a
glass. As a living soul it lived there as
in a refined body: it was there incarnate.
We think also of the gentleness of Christ; a
fine characteristic in one that was so great..
He had no rough thought, no rough feel
ing, no rough choice. There was nothing
that might be called overbearing about him:
his gentleness forbade that. There are men
who pride themselves in their independence.
They wish to think for themselves, mean to
stand up for their rights, are not afraid to
speak their mind. But such characters are
apt to go a little too far. Their towering
independence is a little too sharp and defi
ant. Gentleness can not grow under its
shadow. The most timid might approach
Christ. A child could take him by the
hand. There was nothing repelling about
him. It was the nature of his soul to
draw, the nature of his manner to draw,
the nature of his appearance to draw.
We must not fail to notice also the tender
ness of Jesus. His tenderness was not a per
fected sample of pity. It was higher and

Christ is Christianity. 29
purer than any refined movement of in
stinctive feeling. It belonged to a region
of mind that was most holy. It was em
bosomed in mercy. Its speech was hope,
and its benediction peace. The tenderness
of Jesus had no frown. It was not pity
on the lips while there was a scowl on
the heart. But it was a tenderness which
warmed, softened, and saved. It is because
of this winning characteristic that wandering
men kneel down at the cross. The little
child prays and trusts because of this. The
despairing man by it gains hope, and the
weary man by it gains strength. The ten
derness of Jesus is like a gateway of love
that opens into the kingdom of grace; like
an angel of love that guides us through the
night of time, leaving us not till we have
reached the day of God.
Christ had the great virtue of self-denial.
In fact it was not a virtue, not a grace — it
was rather his collective goodness taking the
form of self-sacrifice. He had not struck out
a course of existence that was easy and pleas
ant. We can think of a ship sailing along a
peaceful sea with a fair wind, of a stream
flowing onward through a channel with no

30 Christ and his Religion.
impediment, of a sun shining during a beauti
ful day with the fields enameUed with green
and the sky with blue — and all such pictures
giving us the idea of ease. We can even
think of angels at their morning worship in
the temple of heaven, of glorified men walk
ing along by the river of God, of bright
celestial companies gHding through space to
distant worlds — and aU this, though in the
strict Hne of duty, pleasant and easy. Now,
it is not in any such way as this that we are
to view the position of Christ upon earth.
He did not come among us as a traveUer,
intending to study the manners, customs,
and history of a strange people; did not
even come as an ambassador from the court
of God, proposing terms of peace to a rebel
lious province of his empire; but he came as
a Sufferer. If the strange contrast of purity
and pain is not seen in his Hfe, nothing is
seen. Christ had not the hast anxiety with refer
ence to eternity. AU men are more or less
anxious touching the tremendous possibilities
of the eternal state. Special efforts have
been made to drive away fear as it respects
the future; but the efforts are not successful.

Christ is Christianity. 31
So long as man is a sinner and God is just,
there will be fear. It is worthy of note,
then, that we find one person, and but one,
who had no anxiety during any moment of
life in regard to the retributions of eternity.
How could he fear when he had no sense of
guilt ? He had not the least feeling of un-
worthiness: the very best men have that
feeling. The past did not cause him to
grieve, and the future did not cause him
to tremble. Surely his character was un-
Hke that of all other men.
Christ did not merely have one leading
moral trait, Hke the chief minds of the past,
but he had all the moral traits. He was
not one-sided. His character does not show
strength and weakness, beauties and deform
ities. In the working of his intellect, he is
never at fault. There is no false statement,
no false reasoning. He does not find it nec
essary to change his opinions by reason of
new light. Although his thoughts are ex
ceedingly comprehensive, entering into a re
gion where men have not been accustomed
to go, he yet finds them all sure. Even up
to this late day no improvement can be
made upon his teaching. In the working

32 Christ and his Religion.
of his feelings, there is no wrong movement.
The right emotion always appears in the
right circumstances. The feelings are nei
ther too fast nor too slow. Their measure
and variety are just as they should be. In
the working of Christ's will, there is no hin
dering power. It always has a ready and
fixed determination for righteousness. The
entire will, and not a part of it, is set for
that which is good. Thus we may speak
of the whole mind of Jesus as true, pure,
beautiful. As the various colors blend to
gether and constitute Hght, so the various
virtues blend together and constitute love.
A difficulty which hinders us from grasp
ing the character of Christ is the fact that
the character is finished. Our character is
unfinished at every point. There is not a
single faculty that works in a normal way;
not a single grace that is complete in itself;
not one good habit or good tendency that
is just as it should be, — consequently we
are in no condition to see Christ as he stands
before us in his peerless perfection. We see
him, and yet we do not see him. Only a
part of his nature strikes us, because only a
part of our nature bears a feeble resem-

Christ is Christianity. 33
blance to it. No one but a finished painter
can judge of a finished painting. Only he
who has a genius for poetry can detect the
excellencies of a poem. If I would know
goodness I must be good. It takes Christ
to see Christ. We can judge of pious men
with a fair degree of truthfulness, because
these pious men have but one or two marked
traits of character. The marked traits make
them stand out; while perfection being a sin
gle glory it does not startle us so much.
The love of John and the philanthropy of
Howard arrest our attention.
It must be confessed, however, that there
are surprises of character about Christ. We
can not understand why the eighteen Chris
tian centuries should have fixed their gaze
upon this one person, if he did not pos
sess features of goodness that struck men
with surprise. His complete disinterested
ness stands out Hke a sun, and his death
is such a marvel that it never can be for
gotten. There were Alps of goodness about
him, rivers of purity beautiful as the Rhine.
cities of righteousness with their palaces of
love, that are always remembered with joy.
In fact he seems like a Holy Land with its

34 Christ and his Religion.
mountains and sea, its plain of Esdraelon
and Jordan Yalley, its Jerusalem with the
temple of God, its Bethlehem where first
he appeared, and its Calvary where at last
he went away.
Christ is the only person upon earth with
whom I am satisfied. I think of him with
the utmost pleasure. I find nothing in him
that jars upon my soul; nothing that clashes
with my sense of right". He knew nothing
of unrest, although he knew what it was
to suffer pain. The pain to him was for
eign; it came from without. His state of
repose sprang from within; it was the re
sult of purity. Upon whatever men I gaze,
they are evil and restless. I may think of
the past, the brightest and best ages of the
past, I yet can find no human being upon
whom I can look with complete satisfaction.
I look to Jesus. I can not say he could
be better at any point. Only with him am
I satisfied. He seems Hke a majestic river
that is winding its way through time, hav
ing come from the lands of eternity. Yea,
he seems like a great world of light, — a
new sun that has appeared in the spaces
of God, — the centre of a new system, nobler

Christ is Christianity. 35
and better than aU others. Although sixty-
two generations of men have passed away
since Christ appeared, he has never been
reproduced; neither can we imagine any
advanced thought or action in the future
ages that wiU give to us a second Christ.
He is out of the range of the world's move
ment. He is not swept onward by the winds
and waves that sweep us along. The glo
ries of heaven radiate around his Spirit, and
he tarries among us as one whose home is
in the bosom of God. With outstretched
hands he blesses the whole race of man,
and then departs. His benediction stiU rests
upon us, and his image goes with us in all
our journey of toU.
That which arrests the attention of a
thoughtful observer is the singular fact —
Christ always reached his ideal. He stands
forth as a new character in human history.
Although in appearance he is Hke us, in
reaHty he is not of us. The plane of his
Hfe is out of our range. He passes by
among us as one who has come from afar;
as one on his way to the worlds of Hght
from which he came. He is the voice of
Goodness; the psalm of God. He is the

36 Christ and his Religion.
Head of a new race of men; the crown
and glory of the creation. Not a single
human being has ever reached his ideal.
All have the consciousness of sin; all have
guilt; aU have remorse. Men everywhere
are dissatisfied. Whether the race should
exist thousands or millions of years, it wiU
still be true that each member of the race
will sink beneath his ideal. Christ stands
alone during the whole sweep of time.
He did not grow up from sin to holiness:
he was pure from the very beginning of
life. Regrets and vain desires he had not.
He shows no symptom of wounded pride.
He does not chafe in his soul. He makes
no pretence. He is surrounded with many
disadvantages ; bad circumstances seem to
blacken him; yet he manifests no uneasi
ness of mind because men will judge him
unfavorably from these unfavorable circum
stances. Shame because of a bad environ
ment is not seen. No hints are thrown out
as if he would say, I am sorry that you
find me thus. I hope you will not judge
me by these untoward appearances. I was
once in a better state than the one in
which you now see me. All such human

Christ is Christianity. 37
contrivances to court a name are never
thought of. Jesus puts on no airs, does
nothing for effect, is never chagrined; but
conscious of a pure spiritual existence, he
Hves and loves as if he were inhabiting the
city of God, with principalities and powers
aU about him. That he should thus be the
one personality who has never fallen below
his ideal — this has a divine meaning. If he
is of the race, why is he not Hke the race?
He is either a sinner, or he is greater than
a sinless man.

CHAPTER II.
CHRIST IS EITHER A DIVINE SAVIOUR AND CHRIS-
TIANITY IS TRUE, OR HE IS A DARING IMPOSTOR
AND CHRISTIANITY IS FALSE.
r~PHE supernatural with Christ was natural.
In the course of his journeys from
place to place he meets the sick and heals
them. He does this in the most natural
way. No special effort seems to be made.
A blind man asks that his eyes may be
opened: Christ opens them. A funeral pro
cession is passing by; he stops it; he raises
the dead. A word is spoken very much as
he would speak any word, and the result
foUows. At a particular time thousands of
people follow him. Knowing that they are
both hungry and weary, he asks them to
be seated. Finding a few loaves and fishes,
he invokes the divine blessing, . and then
distributes them to the multitude. Each
person eats, and each is satisfied. Here
there is no great ado. We only notice
that the supernatural was quite natural to

Christ's Divinity. 39
Christ. He is not found at any time un
prepared for this kind of work. He is
never brought to a stand, as if he did not
know what to do in given circumstances.
Even in regard to all the variety of dis
eases that he is asked to cure, he has not
to examine each case with critical skill that
he may know how to treat it. He simply
speaks the word, and the person is healed;
is healed at once. Certainly this way of
acting has a divine look to it. Christ does
not with great shrewdness arrange matters
so as to startle the people. An impostor
would want to overwhelm them by what
seemed Hke a dash of the supernatural. If
forged miracles had been introduced into
the Christian records, they would not have
been of the kind we now find there. The
miracle Hfe of Christ is altogether too hid
den to suit the taste of a forger.
If we just note two or three Roman Cath
olic miracles, we shaU see how they differ
from those of Jesus. As St. EHzabeth, of
Hungary, was one time carrying bread, meat,
and eggs, to the poor, she was met by her
husband. He being anxious to see what she
carried, drew open her mantle. When lo!

40 Christ and his Religion.
the bread, meat, and eggs were changed into
red and white roses; the most beautiful he
had ever seen ! This astonished him greatly,
as it was not the season of flowers. He took
one of the roses, which he preserved aU his
Hfe. At another time a company of noble
men came to visit Elizabeth. She had no
robes with which she could suitably appear
in their presence, and there was no time
to prepare new ones Praying to God to
make her agreeable to her friends, she was
at once introduced to them. When, to the
great surprise of the duke, and the ad
miration of those with him, "she appeared
clothed in magnificent silken robes, and
covered with a mantle of azure velvet, em
broidered with pearls of great price ! " An
other story informs us that Elizabeth once
took care of a leper, who was so diseased
that no one would venture to approach him.
She anointed him with balm, and laid him
in her own bed. Her husband hearing of
this was irritated. Entering the room where
the leper was found, and going up to the
bed, whom should he see? Not the leper
at all; but Jesus Christ! *
* De Montalembert's "Life of St. Elizabeth," pp. 155, 181.

Christ's Divinity. ... 41
Miracles Hke these are seen to be spu
rious at a glance, and are just of that kind
that we might expect from a forger. With
Jesus, miracles never look as if they were
far-fetched. They are not like divine won
ders glued on to his life. We simply behold
"the Lord of glory" walking among men,
and acting always like himself. His Hfe is
not according to any human theory. He
outwits aU human invention. If Jesus had
been dressed up to suit the fevered imagi
nation of ignorant and superstitious foUowers,
the great facts of unity and harmony that
now are seen in his life would be seen no
more. A startling miracle would be fas
tened on to him here, and another there;
very much as the Oriental female is deco
rated with ear-rings and nose-jewels, — these
being no part of the Hving body. If the
miracles of Christ were a kind of fancy wax
work stuck on to his Hfe, why, in that case
we could remove them ; and his real Hfe
would be freer and fresher without such
foreign appendages. But let any one go
through the gospels in this way, and with
his finely prepared instruments separate the
miracles from the life of our Lord, — what

42 Christ and his Religion.
follows? Why, Christ is dead at once; no
Christ is left. One might take hold of Ro
man Catholic saints, and strike off the mir
acles that are attached to them, with great
benefit to the persons concerned; but not
so with Jesus. The supernatural with him
is so natural, is so much a part and parcel
of himself, that it is absolutely impossible
to remove it. We must either take him
altogether, or reject him altogether. There
is no middle ground to stand on.
" A distinct individuality," says Isaac
Taylor, " presents itself in the perusal of
the four gospels: all the world feels this, and
has felt it in every age. By the consent
of mankind, or the involuntary suffrage of
Christianized nations, ancient and modern,
a perfect individual idea, combining the in
tellectual and moral qualities of one who is
wise and good, and who is possessed of su
perhuman power and authority, is embodied
in the four gospels. This harmony, or, as
we call it, beauty of character, in which
there is no distortion, and with which noth
ing is mingled that is incoherent, is spread
over the entire surface of the evangelic nar
ratives, embracing the supernatural incidents

Christ's Divinity. 43
of the life of Christ, not less than the nat
ural. In these narratives no seams, or joints,
can be discerned, shining where the spuri
ous portion has been spHced on to the
genuine." *
That Christ has a divine-human character
is plain from the gospel history. To confine
his character to his human soul, however
large and pure that soul might be, is not
possible. As a theanthropic person, you
hear him using such language as this:
"Where two or three are gathered to
gether in my name, there am I in the
midst of them." "I have power to lay
down my Hfe, and I have power to take
it again." "Destroy this temple, and in
three days I" will raise it up." "Before
Abraham was, I am." No man ever would
speak thus. The language imphes divine-hu
man character. The central position which
Christ assumes, compels us to view him as
God-man. No one is to approach the Fa
ther except through him ; and he demands
that every one should honor him even as
they honor the Father. He says, "What
soever ye shall ask in my name, I will do
* "The Restoration of Belief," p. 226.

44 Christ and his Religion.
it," — even to the sending of the Eternal
Spirit himself. Thus the treasury of the
Godhead is open to him, and he dispenses
infinite favors according to the sovereignty
of his own will. Without any limitation
whatsoever, he says to all men: "Without
me ye can do nothing:" he proclaims the
wondrous fact that he is to raise the dead,
and judge the world. We stand appalled
before such a Presence. "Never man spake
like this man." " Truly this is the Son of
God." "The bare fact," says Ullman, "that
a Being actually appeared who, on the one
hand, assumed such a position with respect
to God and a higher world, and, on the
other hand, displayed such mental and mor
al sublimity, is inexplicable, on moral or
psychological grounds, unless this position
to God and a higher world be a true and
genuine fact." *
If there be any thing certain about the
Christ of history, it is certain that he lived
a divine-human life. It does not require
any critical skiU to seize and present the
divine -human elements. They are patent
to each mind ; and it is for this very reason
* "The Sinlessness of Jesus," p. 199.

Christ's Divinity. 45
that the Church, with such marked unanim
ity, receives Christ as God-man. The idea
of classifying Christ among men, as one of
their number, living within the strict range
of their life, or, at least, as manifesting their
highest form of religious thinking and ac
tion — the idea of doing that is just out of
the question; it is a moral impossibility. It
is like a man trying to go straight ahead,
bound to go straight ahead, when all at
once he strikes against a great rock, and
is not able to proceed. The divine-human
features of Christ are too many and dis
tinct, to think about viewing him as mere
ly a very pious man, a notable Jew that
was somewhat ahead of his time. A per
son who can say of himself that he is " the
Lord of the sabbath," " the Light of the
world," the one Son who knows the eternal
Father, is not in a line with man at all.
To be scanning the human nature of Christ,
enlarging it as much as we can, refining it
as much as we can, is to work at the wrong
end. We are not to begin with Christ as
man, and then go up to God; but we are
to begin with Christ as God, and then come
down to man. The divine is the first and

46 Christ and his Religion.
chief. It was the eternal Logos that be
came flesh, and dwelt among us. The per
sonaHty is divine, and not human. Looking
at Christ in this way aU is clear. He is
seen as he is.
We take now another step in our argu
ment: Christ has a redemptive consciousness,
and, by having that, shows that he is the
divine-human Saviour. This redemptive con
sciousness found expression in the words:
"Thy sins be forgiven thee"; "Come unto
me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden,
and I will give you rest"; "I lay down
my life for the sheep." Or with still great
er clearness in this verse : ' ' He gave his
life a ransom for many." The Greek word
translated ransom is lutron; meaning a re
demption-price. Christ gave his Hfe as the
redemption-price for men. We find that
captives and slaves were redeemed by the
payment of a price. A slave also by his
own labor might redeem himself. The labor
in that case was the lutron. As we look
into the Septuagint, we find the same usage
in regard to this Greek word. Ex. xxi. 30,
reads thus: "If there be laid on him a sum
of money, then he shall give for the ransom

Christ's Divinity. 47
of his Hfe whatsoever is laid upon him."
Here ransom is lutra; the word being in the
plural, and still meaning redemption-price.
In Ex. xxx. 12, we have this language:
"When thou takest the sum of the chil
dren of Israel after their number, then shall
they give every man a ransom for his soul
unto the Lord." The ransom again is lutra.
In Num. xxxv. 31, this command is given:
"Ye shall take no satisfaction for the life of
a murderer, which is guilty of death." Sat
isfaction in this place is the same as the
lutra of the Greek.
These passages show the meaning of the
word. The meaning was well understood.
As to the apostolic understanding of lutron,
that is quite definite. Peter says: "Ye are
not redeemed with corruptible things as sil
ver and gold, but with the precious blood
of Christ." The redemption-price of souls is
not money, but blood. Paul says: "Christ.
hath redeemed us from the curse of the law,
being made a curse for us." And John
echoes the same redemptive thought in these
words : ' ' Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed
us to God by thy blood." In two of these
passages the word translated redeemed means

48 Christ and his Religion.
bought; a word quite as expressive as the
strictly redemptive one, and even showing
us how it was used. As presenting the
same idea, we have this passage: "Ye
are not your own ; for ye are bought with a
price : therefore glorify God in your body
and in your spirit, which are God's."
Thus Christ is a Redeemer. The redemp
tive theology of the New Testament never
could have had an existence save as Christ
revealed it himself. It is safe to affirm that
the Jewish mind, at the time when Christ
appeared, had no idea of a redemption for
the race by the blood of a divine man.
The apostles themselves were exceedingly
slow in learning the doctrine. They only
saw it, in its rounded form, after the death
of Jesus, and after he had explained it to
them with greater particularity than usual.
In fact the idea of an incarnate Redeemer,
as finding a place in the world's thinking at
the time it did, is evidence that the idea
came from God; for no man untaught by
Christ knew any thing about it. There was
no development at work that could produce
the idea. It could no more have arisen at
that time than the conception of the electric

Christ's Divinity. 49
telegraph. That Christ is a divine-human
person, and a divine-human Redeemer, are
thoughts whose very existence prove their
soundness. Neither the one nor the other
came forth from the soul of man. Christ,
then, is a great representative character;
the Mediator between God and men; the
Saviour of sinners. Even viewed as the
pre-existent Logos, there was a phase of
the redemptive about him. He had agreed
to come as the Redeemer. He saw what
he must be, do, suffer, and was ready for
the great task. Then as the angel of Je
hovah, acting a part during the pre-Chris
tian centuries, we see intimations of re
demption coming forth from him. Chiefly,
however, when he became man was he re
demptive. His humanity was not on the
same plane as the Adamic humanity ; nor
even on the same plane as the ideal hu
manity. He was whoUy a redemptive char
acter; standing alone amidst the generations
of time ; standing alone amidst all creature-
ly existence. He is "the Lamb slain from
the foundation of the world." The very
earth was created and fitted up in view of
redemption. The entire history of the race

So Christ and his Religion.
is redemptive. The God-man is the centre
of the world's hopes. Life has no meaning
without him. Christ is salvation.
There is a phase of the redemptive con-
>• sciousness of Christ which must be noticed;
I refer to the fact that the divine in him
was, at times, held in abeyance. There is an
extreme view which affirms that the divinity
of the Saviour was entirely repressed dur
ing his stay upon earth. There is no evi
dence of this. Not the least change took
place in the Logos when he assumed our
nature; nor did the least change take place
afterwards. That the eternal Son of God
should have emptied himself of his divinity
when he became a man, and received it not
again tUl this man was glorified, is an idea
that can not be reconciled with the immu
tability of the divine nature. "If the Lo
gos, professedly in love," remarks Dorner,
"has given up his eternal, self-conscious
being, where is his love during that time?
'Love without self-consciousness is an impos
sibility."* The utmost we can say is, that
Christ limited himself in certain circum
stances, that he did not exert his power in
* "Doct. of the Person of Christ," voL iii., p. 253.

Christ's Divinity. 51
certain circumstances. AU through his Hfe
we can see that there was that within him
which was held back. He seemed to be
under a great redemptive law, and beyond
* that law he could not go. He could have
unfolded truth, which he did not unfold;
could have wrought miracles, which he did
not work; could have manifested power in
a vast variety of ways, which he did not
manifest. Christ in the sphere of Chris
tianity acted very much as God has done
in the sphere of creation and providence.
God has put himself under a law of re
straint. He has not revealed aU that he
could reveal; not done all that he could do.
He has acted in the best way for the whole
universe of mind. The same fact of partial
repression can be seen in the inspired writ
ings. The Bible iUumines one realm of
thought and being; but there is another
realm which it leaves in darkness. Christ,
then, acts in harmony with the whole course
of the divine procedure. There is a prin
ciple of denial in the movements of the Re
deemer; what may be caUed the sacrifice of
negation. If we view Christ by himself,
with reference to himself, this character-

52 Christ and his Religion.
istic can be seen quite distinctly. He was
wilHng, for instance, to live amidst the sol
itudes of the wilderness for forty days; live
there in a state of hunger; not venturing to
do any thing to lessen the severity of the
trial. By a miracle he might provide food
for five thousand persons, but not by a
miracle could he provide food for himself.
A principle of self-sacrifice governed him;
and so the miracle-Hfe must flow out for
the benefit of man, but not for the benefit
of the humbled Redeemer of man. There
were times when the soul of Jesus seemed
to be taxed to its utmost limit; as if re
demption demanded that the whole power
thereof should be exerted; as if the divine
could only go so far, and then must stop;
as if a full volumed agony of pain were
requisite, in order to pay the redemption-
price for souls. The intense mental suffer
ing of the Saviour can not be explained,
except upon the supposition that the divine
was held in abeyance to a certain extent.
He even said himself that God had for
saken him.
It has been a question whether Christ,
just before he expired on the cross, received

Christ's Divinity. 53
communications of divine light, enabling him
to die with gladness, and not in the midst
of darkness and pain. As a thought, it
would be pleasant to view the Redeemer
as passing away like the sun surrounded
with glory; leaving the earth with a splen
dor the same as when first he left heaven.
But however attractive such a thought might
be, there is no evidence that Jesus was al
lowed to realize it in the last moment of
his life. Not tiU he yielded up himself into
the hands of death, was the ransom-price
paid. All that was peculiarly redemptive
in Christ culminated on the cross. Not tUl
after death, therefore, was the prize to reach
him; not tiU after death was he seen to
be the Conqueror. The glorified Redeemer,.
and the abased Redeemer, could not meet
together on Calvary.
Is it too much to say now that the redemp
tive consciousness of Christ was conditioned
by a law of progress ? Of course our stand
point here is strictly human. In God there
is no progress. We should be inclined to
think that not until a certain stage of men
tal development had been reached, did the
idea of redemption dawn upon the soul of

54 Christ and his Religion.
Jesus. If the consciousness of the divine
was gradual, the consciousness of redemp
tion was equally gradual. And as far as
the true order is concerned, the Son of man
must have known that he was divine before
he could know that he was the Redeemer;
for there could be no Redeemer apart from
divinity. At first we can see that Jesus was
innocent; no stain upon him; pure as a star.
Then habits of holiness, stronger and more
fixed as the time passed, were formed in
him. His life also was developed in the
midst of opposition. Fierce winds struck
him. He moved with a serene majesty
through aU contraries. Great strength and
tenacity of principle were worked out.
Then as his redemptive life was unusual,
unusual obstacles he had to meet and over
come. The Christ of Gethsemane and the
cross was greater, humanly speaking, than
the Christ that lay in his mother's arms, or
that stood before the doctors in the temple.
He was sinless all the way through; but in
degree, in compass of life, he was greater
at the end: he had more being. At the last,
when the whole ransom-price of men was
paid down, the height of his development

Christ's Divinity. 55
was reached. After the earthly and re
demptive work was finished, we may weU
suppose that the human nature of Christ
was most ineffably interpenetrated and sur
rounded with the divine; so that to speak
of his development now in the eternal and
heavenly places would betray a feeling of
irreverence. When Christ passed out of
time, he passed out of history. In the
centre of the divine system he wiU be
throned forever and ever; unfolding the
glories of the Godhead to adoring and wor
shipping myriads; while he himself wiU be
living in a region of existence that can not
be touched or measured by the most ex
alted creature.
Such is the Christ of the gospels. There
is this advantage in the view that has been
taken, that every statement, relating to this
wondrous Being in the evangeHc narratives,
can here find a place. None are thrown
aside as improper; none are weakened or
changed. Any view of Christ that can not
make use of all the facts of the case is a
false view. A one-sided or theoretic Christ
is no Christ at aU. It is evident enough
that the Redeemer is every thing to men,

56 Christ and his Religion.
or he is nothing. Religion rises or falls
with him. The historical Christ admits of
no compromise. Out of him there is no
salvation. He is the centre of all Biblical
teaching. Make him less than he is, and
the Bible is gone; and Christianity is gone
with it. We are not surprised that modern
unbeHef is concentrating its attack upon the
person of Christ. Let him stand forth in
all the royalty of his Godhead, and Chris
tianity is safe: let him be divested of his
divine claims, and Christianity is lost.
" You can never explain the enigma of
primitive Christian belief, its world conquer
ing power, and its world regenerating effects,
nor the existence of the Christian Church
itself, if Christ was not, and did not do,
what the gospels teU of him. By trying
to explain primitive Christian history as a
chain of merely natural occurrences, you
turn it upside down and make it an insolu
ble enigma. By your denial of the super
human element in Christ, you are compeUed
to seek the mainspring of so immense a
movement as that of Christianity in persons,
circumstances, and relations, which can not
bear the weight of such a superstructure;

Christ's Divinity. 57
and in the end you ask us to believe that
the kingdom of truth took its origin from
misunderstanding, error, self-deception, and
dishonesty ! " *
It is a noteworthy fact that the holiest men
have been found among those who believed
that Christ is divine. ReHgion has sunk the
moment he was viewed as a mere creature.
With the rejection of the divine in Christ,
other fundamental facts have been rejected;
tiU finally the soul has dropped down into
a species of naturalism, leaving nothing but
veins of moraHty to take the place of the
religion of the Son of God. Christ is like
the sun, like the air, like the heart in the
human body. Take him away, and there is
nothing but darkness and death.
It is not sufficient to say that Christ was
a sinless man. If he was merely a man,
and yet spoke as God, then he was a sin
ful man. His holiness never can stand
along with words that we should close our
ears against, if any human being were to
utter them. The higher the holiness and
the higher the divine claims, the more
* Dr. Christlieb's Paper before the Evangelical Alliance
of 1873.

58 Christ and his Religion.
would we be startled by the two opposite
characteristics. Make Christ even the no
blest creature in existence; stiU he must be
humble. The very greatness of his perfec
tion would lead him to be all the more
careful how he spoke. The purest and
highest created mind would not be so
Hkely to assume divine attributes, as a
mind of lower grade. We are compelled
to say that if Christ was sinless, then he
was supernatural; but if not supernatural,
then he was sinful. It is all in vain to
attempt to hold on to the holy Jesus, and
yet deny his divine claims and redemptive
work. He escapes from us, and also the
whole system of Christianity vanishes away,
the instant we view him as the mere sin
less man.
It is a significant remark of Schlegel,
that "if Christ were not more than a Socra
tes, then a Socrates he was not."* Equally
striking are the words of Lessing: " If
Christ is not truly God, then Mohammed
anism was an undoubted improvement on
the Christian reHgion. Mahomet, on such a
supposition, would indisputably have been
• "Phil, of Hist," vol. ii., p. 43.

Christ's Divinity. 59
a greater man than Christ, as he would
have been more veracious, more circum
spect, and more zealous for the honor of
God, since Christ, by his expressions, would
have given dangerous occasion for idolatry;
while, on the other hand, not a single ex
pression of the kind can be laid to the
charge of Mahomet."* If Christ were sim
ply a man, having a sinless character, how
is it possible for him to use language con
veying the idea that he is God? He saw
that the Jews understood him as claiming
to be God, and that they condemned him
for that reason; he saw also that Christians
honored him as divine; why, then, did he
not correct the mistake, if it was a mis
take? If Christ is not a theanthropic person,
living a theanthropic life, there is some
thing fearfuUy dark and wicked about his
character. The sin of falsehood he must
have carried to a complete perfection. The
sin of blasphemy he must have been guilty
of in a higher degree than was ever pos
sible to any mortal man. His ambition
must have gone beyond all limits. The
• Quoted in Schlegel's "Phil, of Hist.," vol. ii., p. 43,

60 Christ and his Religion.
evU he has set in motion is beyond all
reckoning. He has corrupted the whole
current of human history. He has deluded
miUions of people for nineteen centuries*
and made them rank idolaters. Surely he
is the great impostor of a race; a man
so mighty in sin that forgiveness can not
reach him. He pretends to be God, and
by the very pretence sinks down to the
depths of Satan. He would be worshipped,
while eternal dishonor must cling to his
name. He would essay to Work in a su
pernatural sphere, above and beyond the
natural laws of the universe, while he him
self is the most lawless of men. He would
assume to stand between God and the
guilty, the only Redeemer of a fallen race,
yet, by the assumption, he commits a crime
for which a Redeemer can never be found.
Such must be the character of Jesus, un
less we view him as a divine-human Saviour.
If the necessities of the argument com
pel me to affirm that Christ was the great
transgressor, what a mass of contradictions
follow from that as matter of consequence.
With one breath I say that he was the
mightiest sinner of the race, while with the

Christ's Divinity. 6i
next breath I say that he was the holiest
man that ever Hved. The heart that was
fuU of enmity communed with God ! The
most hateful being was loving and lovely!
The most proud was the most humble !
He who manifested the sweetest submission
was full of unbelief! Jesus died to es-
tabHsh truth and righteousness, yet truth
and righteousness he had none ! The most
depraved being founded the one religion of
purity! Such is the logic; and there is no
escaping from it. If it is hard to be a
Christian, it is harder still to be sceptic.
The unbeliever can say, " With a great
price obtained I this Hberty."
The only conclusion from the whole sub
ject is, that Christ is a divine-human Sa
viour, and Christianity is true. No man,
unless he was insane, would claim to be
God and Redeemer: and if he was insane,
he could not have that complete balance of
character, and look of divinity, that Christ
possessed. There is no other way, there
fore, but to take him in the plenitude of
his power and purity. Only as " God man
ifest in the flesh" can he be reconciled with
himself.

62 Christ and his Religion.
Thou glorious Saviour! millions have given
thee their heart, and made thee the joy of
their soul. None have faUed of thy strength
who trusted in thee; none have ever grieved
at the last hour who made thee their hope.
Thou didst dweU in the bosom of God be
fore time was born. In communions sweet
thou didst spend the ceaseless ages. No sol
itude marked thy being in the timeless to
day of God. In the midst of ineffable bless
edness, such as no creature can tell, thou
didst move through the golden years of an
infinite Hfe. Thou camest into this dark
world of sin. A stranger thou wast here.
Like a divine flower brought from the lands
of eternity thou didst bloom among us.
Thy beauty did smile upon passing men.
Thy fragrance filled the air both near and
far. But rude men trampled thee down.
They could not bear thy loveHness, for that
reminded them of their sin; and the heav
enly perfume that exhaled from thee was
not to their taste. Yet the wicked could
not destroy thee. During a day thou didst
smUe here, and at evening time thou didst
bow thy head, didst lie in the dust; but on
the coming morning thou wast in heaven,

Christ's Divinity. 63
in the garden of God. Jesus, thou art the
Holy One that came to us. Guile was not
found in thy mouth, neither was the shad
ow of iniquity known to darken thy heart.
Bad thoughts disturbed thee not. Thy emo
tions were like the breezes of heaven, as
the ripples on the sea of the Lord, as wa
ters of peacefulness flowing from their eter
nal fountains. We can not describe thee.
Thou art far above us. Thou art God, and
also man. We bow in thy presence. We
take thee as our Saviour. Thou art our aU.
Forgive us our sins. Wash us in thy blood.
When this frail Hfe is ended, take us to
thyself. In the kingdom that is eternal may
we praise thee with love.

CHAPTER III.
SUPERNATURAL BEGINNING OF THE RELIGION OF
CHRIST IN THE SOUL.
r I ""HERE is a divine remedy for sin, and
that divine remedy works in a specific
way. The mould of our subject is found
in the very structure of the mind. As the
entire soul has been affected by the faU, so
the entire soul must be affected by the re
demption. The mind is usuaUy divided into
three faculties: the intellect that thinks, the
heart that feels, and the will that chooses.
If the divine change would be complete, it
must be threefold in its nature: the under
standing must be enlightened, the affections
quickened, the wiU liberated.
I. Divine Light for the Intellect, pro
ducing a sound Consciousness.
The difficulty with the understanding of
fallen man is found in the fact that there is
no spiritual apprehension to it. There may

Beginning of Religion in the Soul. 65
be correct reasoning in many things, and a
real discovery of truth in many things, but,
for aU this, there is a sphere that is just
as unknown, as colors are unknown to the
blind. "The natural man receiveth not the
things of the Spirit of God; for they are fool
ishness unto him: neither can he know them,
because they are spiritually discerned." The
mind needs to have a new cast and a new
eye. 1. The divine light enables one to have a
consciousness of God. It is not that the
idea of God has dawned upon the mind,
but it is that there is a sense of his exist
ence. The impression that is made upon
the soul is not from the force of argument:
it is more solemn, clear, and divine than
that. The creaturely spirit is in the midst
of an atmosphere, and there is a realiza
tion of an Infinite Presence. The divine
purity makes us to think of our sin; yet
the divine love makes us to look upward
with hope. Our vision becomes more clear,
and the range of it more extended.
In the city hall of Brussels there is a
very striking picture. On the ceiling of
one of the rooms, you behold the figure of

66 Christ and his Religion.
an angel blowing a trumpet. You take
your stand in front of the angel, so as to
gain a complete view. Having looked a
sufficient length of time, you move round
to the side. You are astonished, however,
with the fact that there is no side ! You
are stiU standing in front of the angel, and
the heavenly eyes are fastened upon you.
The mind is struck with wonder; and the
confession is, that this is a notable picture.
You now change your position, going to
what would seem to be the back part of
the angel. More astonished than before,
you find that there is no back part! The
eye is looking straight at you. FinaUy, you
take another point of view. It makes no
difference. Go round and round that pict
ure, and the eye follows you at every step.
You stand mute and awestruck before a
great presence. How much this seems Hke
God. The Infinite Eye is ever upon us,
and we are searched through and through.
2. There is a consciousness of eternity. It
is not the mere abstract conception of time
without end, but it is the profound realiza
tion of the everlasting state. When once
the mind is in the mood of thinking about

Beginning of Religion in the Soul. 67
eternal things, almost any thing wiU sug
gest them. The smoke that wanders away
into the winter's sky; the ceaseless flow of
a great river; a solitary ship beating across
the ocean; a man breathing his last in the
midst of hushed stillness, — each may awaken
spiritual faculties, and cause souls to think
of that existence that keeps on forever. No
one is prepared to live until the idea of an
endless destination has possessed him. The
fact that men are either lost or saved in
that immortal state, is a fact of infinite sig
nificance. To the serious mind the very
wail of the everlasting night seems to fall
upon the ear, and the music of the celestial
seems to invite the spirit back to its home.
A fixed thought of eternal realities reduces
all things here, making mortal creatures to
appear like madmen as they strive to hold
fast a shadow.
3. There is a consciousness of accounta
bility. It is always observable that when a
person would begin the reHgious life his
sense of accountability is sharpened. He
sees duties that he has not seen before.
Conscience thus takes the lead. There is
before the soul a strictly new life. The

68 Christ and his Religion.
human spirit is musing in the midst of
great moral solemnities. To act is a neces
sity. The only danger is that a seemingly
right course wUl be chosen, instead of the
one path of holiness. Men by nature are
Pelagians, and they will do the work them
selves if they can. The ministry of failure,
however, will have its effect. The law is
not as easily satisfied as was supposed. The
moral consciousness is made more searching
by the fact of failure, and the disappointed
spirit is looking round for another way of
life. 4. The consciousness of sin and guilt now
characterizes the illumined soul. Sin is deep
er and darker than it was wont to appear,
and the feeHng of guilt proportions 'itself to
the new revelation. As to personal holiness,
there is none. The man has reached the
hopeful point when he can say, "I am a
great sinner ! " It is not to be supposed
that the consciousness, whatever its com
pass and clearness, takes in the totality of
sin and guilt. The chief point is, that the
awakened spirit is in the line of true con
viction. It is not so much the intensity of
conviction, as it is the quality of it, that

Beginning of Religion in the Soul. 6g
must be looked at. There are some souls
Hke ships that enter the harbor quite easily,
and others that are swept in by a tempest.
One person may have a slight sense of sin
at the beginning of the divine life, and a
pungent sense afterwards; while another per
son may have a pungent sense at the begin
ning, and a slight sense afterwards. The
important thing is to realize that we are
condemned and lost.
5. A painful consciousness now arises.
The man has awakened out of sleep, and
beholding the evils that are without and
within he is troubled. A sense of misery
is reasonable, because that which produces
the misery is no fiction. A truthful view
has been taken of great realities, and this
to a guilty mind must be painful. Nothing
is so fearful to a sinful soul as the truth.
The pain is witness that things are seen, in
a measure, as they are. Contentment in sin
is moral insanity. To be scorched by the
fires of remorse shows that there is a di
vine nature to the soul. We can almost
imagine that an imperial mind under the
fuU blaze of God's light would prefer to
fly into the depths of perdition, rather than

70 Christ and his Religion.
make the least attempt to steal into heaven.
Who can teU but that lost spirits in hell
will hold themselves there by the very al-
mightiness of conscience? It is much better
to pass through the ministry of torment here,
where redemption is found, than hereafter,
where the reign of law and justice will have
no end. " I can approve of those only who
seek in tears for happiness." However quiet
ly some souls may come to Christ, it is a
question whether the absence of the pain
ful emotions is any gain ultimately. I should
suppose that a human spirit would be strong
er and greater forever for having passed
through agonies that proclaimed the magni
tude of its sin and guilt.
6. There is a consciousness of moral weak
ness. If the human race were all phuoso-
phers, they would need the salvation of
Christ to the same extent that the most ig
norant men need it. By no method which
the soul can adopt is there any success in the
destruction of sin. The evU may be mod
ified, but not eradicated; the rough growth
trimmed, but the root of bitterness never
plucked up. According to the definite Bible
expression, " we are without strength." Most

Beginning of Religion in the Soul. 71
men are even the slaves of a particular sin.
With all their efforts they can not conquer
it. He who is searched by the light of God
feels that he is utter weakness. Despair
touching self-restoration is the state of his
mind. The soul longs for a way of recov
ery. A redemption that wiU arrest sin and
introduce holiness is the redemption that is
needed. 7. The way to be saved is now understood.
One wiU never understand this way unless
he is aided by the Spirit. Theological train
ing, however valuable that may be, wiU
never make aU plain. We think of Chal
mers preaching for years with no spiritual
discernment touching the plan of salvation.
The distinguished scholar and the Httle child
seem to be upon the same level here: con
fusion marks the one about as much as the
other. Indeed, it would not be strange if
the child should enter the kingdom the first,
leaving the scholarly man stiU standing at
the door. The very simplicity of the gos
pel method is most puzzling to the fallen
mind. The soul is either looking over the
point, or away from it; trying to fasten
upon something that is foreign to the case

72 Christ and his Religion.
in hand. When we sink down to nothing
ness and see that Christ is all, the way
spreads out before us with marked distinct
ness. A man is never himself untU he finds
the Saviour.
II. Divine Life for the Heart, pro
ducing sound Emotion.
In the Syriac version of the New Testa^
ment we meet with the word life, instead
of our word salvation. Hence certain pas
sages read in this way: "This day has life
come to this house." "The grace of God
that giveth life." " How shaU we escape,
if we neglect so great a life ? " Then in
stead of the famihar word Saviour, a new
rendering attracts our attention: "We have
heard and known that this is Christ the
Life-giver." "This God hath raised up to
be a Prince and Life-giver." " Our citizen
ship is in the heavens, whence we expect
our Life-giver, the Lord Jesus Christ." With
such a turning in language, the great fact
of Hfe from Christ stands out before us.
This new power in the heart has the fol
lowing characteristics.
1. There is a holy tendency. This holy ten-

Beginning of Religion in the Soul. 73
dency of the good man is constant, just as the
sinful tendency of the bad man is constant.
Let the Christian look into his heart at any
moment, and he will find there a pure in
clination. The person is changed at the base
of his being. There is in deed and in truth
a "new possibUity " in the soul. Yea, more,
there is a divine bioplasm in the heart, and
that has begun to form the new man.
2. There is a holy taste. Delight is found
in the spirituahti.es of reHgion, which is in
marked contrast with the former indifference.
As the artist has a taste for art and the
musician for music, so the pious man has a
taste for piety. One feels at home with ob
jects which were once centres of irritation.
There is a taste for certain leading truths
of the Christian system, which at one time
were disliked. Excellencies connected with
the Divine Being and Christ his Son are
now appreciated. Spiritual beauty capti
vates the soul.
3. There is holy desire in the heart. De
sire is prolonged emotion; yet the emotion
is intensified and enlarged. To the extent
that the soul desires to be holy, to the
same extent it shrinks from sin. There is

74 Christ and his Religion.
in this way a double movement, and the
double movement shows the amount of pure
power. To abhor sin in its essence, and not
merely in its savage dress, is the mark of a
regenerate mind. The longing after holiness
per se gives a new turn to the conscience.
The moral faculty breathes a new atmos
phere, and is more sensitive and tender.
Kant significantly remarks, that "having a
large conscience is the same with having
none." He who is too great to notice what
are deemed trifling sins, is a trifling sinner.
4. Divine life in the heart takes the form
of holy love. This feeling of love bears wit
ness to a radical change in the character,
and shows wherein that change consists.
There is supreme attachment to God; and
that supreme attachment steadies the soul
and keeps it. The thought now is to love
all that is good, and to hate all that is
evU. I may be asked whether one does
not begin the Christian Hfe by loving God
for his favors, rather than by loving him
with good- will and complacency? I would
answer, No. If I am truly thankful to
God for his favors, that presupposes that
I have in my soul disinterested love ; for

Beginning of Religion in the Soul. 75
it is that disinterested love that gives char
acter to the thankfulness. Mere gratitude
is too narrow to form a basis for Christian
character. Of course it is a fact that the
infinite gift of salvation appeals most pow
erfully to the love of gratitude. StiU that
form of religion which has been started into
existence by a view of the divine favors is
quite certain to prove an absolute failure.
Nothing but the love of moral exceUence
will stand.
5. We can now say that there is a spon
taneity to aU these movements of the heart.
They do not have to be cajoled and flat
tered before they wiU show their power.
We may come upon them suddenly and un
expectedly: they wiU stUl act according to
the Hfe that is in them. They are not the
result of circumstances, ceasing to be when
the circumstances are gone. In trying mo
ments when every thing seems to be swept
away, they remain. If there was no spon
taneity about the inner Hfe, one could have
no confidence in his character. A religion
that has to be bargained with and pressed
into duty against its own inclination is not
reHgion. If at those times when I am left

76 Christ and his Religion.
alone, with nothing finite to rest on, I can
yet move straight towards Christ, then I
need not fear.
What now is the connection between sec
ond causes and the efficient cause in the con
version of a soul? There is a very impor
tant connection. Nothing is more reasonable
than to show to a fallen man the nature
and magnitude of sin, the character and
claims of God, the all- sufficiency of the
Christian redemption, and the conditions on
which it may be received. This method lays
a certain dignity on the human faculties ;
and almost forms a channel for the new Hfe
to flow in. Although it be a fact that God
is the efficient agent in changing the charac
ter of the soul, we are not to rest contented
with feeble efforts on that account; but we
are to strive to so ulumine the mind, soften
the heart, and sway the will, that it will
seem as if we ourselves were wielding di
vine powers, and converting men. While
it is true that we can not understand how
it is that the Divine Spirit arrests the march
of depravity in the heart, yet there are ef
fects which announce his presence; and what
ever may be the monitions of his love which

Beginning of Religion in the Soul. 77
we recognize, we must heed them. The fact
that he works in the hidden solitudes of the
soul should impress us with the profoundest
awe, and should urge us to the attainment
of 'that end which he desires so much. The
air of seriousness that spreads over the mind,
the sadness which tells of a nature that is
crushed, the conscience that is trembling
with fear, should suggest to us that God is
at work, seeking to save. Silent and intent
we should be ; eager to catch the first sound
of his footsteps ; peering through the mists
of the dawn; anxious for the day. Truth
sounding through the soul is the voice of
God; it is the pioneer of the Saviour; it is
" the sword of the Spirit," cutting down
evil; it is the condition by which the Di
vine Being limits himself.
A question now meets us of this charac
ter: Is the supernatural life which comes to
souls, confined to the people of this earth ? It
is our understanding that the entire king
dom of holy creatures is animated by this
life. When the angels were called into ex
istence they had it; but those of their num
ber that feU, lost it. When Adam was cre
ated, he was endowed with this supernatural

78 Christ and his Religion..
Hfe ; but sinning, he lost it also. The race
that have descended from him are by na
ture destitute of the Hfe of God. By the
redemption of Christ, however, we see it
working again. In the act of regeneration
it appears. In progressive sanctification it
shows its power. When the soul is per
fected, that soul wiU be on the same plane
of existence with the sinless angel; both
united to God by the supernatural Hfe.
The person who communicates this Hfe to
the fallen and the unfallen is the Holy Spirit.
Even Christ, though God-man and sinless,
was nevertheless filled with the Spirit as to
his human nature. This fact is striking.
Why should God give " the Spirit without
measure " unto him ? We are accustomed
to think that a divine influence is only
given to sinners; and yet here is a person
who was holy, receiving the Spirit with
great fulness. The man Christ Jesus, I ap
prehend, shows to us that no creature is
complete without the supernatural life. He
presents to the entire universe that form of
existence that may be called normal. The
sinless angels, then, as weU as the sinless
Redeemer, must be animated by the Spirit's

Beginning of Religion in the Soul. 79
power. Augustine remarks, "that not only
of holy men, but also of the holy angels, it
can be said that ' the love of God is shed
abroad in their hearts by the Holy Ghost,
which is given unto them.' " * Thus instead
of confining the doctrine of a supernatural
life to the theology of redemption, it is
rather a feature of that theology which is
universal. It would seem, however, that the super
natural Hfe which comes to sinful men, must
be somewhat different from the supernatural
Hfe which comes to sinless angels. There is
opposition to battle with among men, but
nothing of that kind among angels. Good
must be planted in the human heart, and
evil expelled. We learn from Scripture that
the Spirit has to convince men, has to strive
with them; and that many a time he is
grieved because of the opposition which he
meets. It is evident, then, that the grace
which overcomes sinful souls must be ex
ceedingly powerful. It not only destroys
moral evil, but heals the wound which that
evil has made. The supernatural Hfe, there
fore, must be remedial in its nature, as weU
? "City of God," voL i., p. 493.

80 Christ and his Religion.
as the spiritual element which keeps holi
ness in existence, and connects the creature
with the Creator.
III. Divine Liberty for the Will, pro
ducing sound Action.
The sinful determination of the wiU in
cludes within itself the chief part of one's
character. The element of wilfulness is pe
culiarly the element of sin. There is noth
ing in which we see so much of the wiU as
in the choice of sin. Unaided from any quar
ter — with the total capacity of the wiU — the
man sins. The bad determination is abso
lutely a self- determination. In turning to
God man is dependent; but in the deter
mination to sin there is independence. We
thus see a tremendous personahty at work
in the matter of evU. Man's gmlt is in pro
portion to his voluntariness.
Although the soul is in bondage to sin,
yet the bondage is that of choice. No one
but a freeman can become a slave. The
monarch has locked himself in prison, has
thrown away the key', has sealed his own
fate by deliberate purpose. It is not as if
the soul were eager to escape from bondage,

Beginning of Religion in the Soul. 8i
and could not. The dark and hopeless feat
ure is, that the will is in the sin. If the
voluntary faculty accepted of holiness, the
fact would be apparent in a race of holy
men; but inasmuch as all are sinners, it is
evident that the wiU prefers the sin. A self-
enslaved wiU is thus not a theory, but a
fact. Now, if a change is to take place in the
character of man, that change must be chief
ly in the lawless will. Unless its determi
nation to sin is changed into a determination
to holiness, there is no possibility of restora
tion to the image of God. A slight reform
in a few individual acts does not reach the
governing power. As well attempt to change
the east wind by commanding a hundred
men to walk against it. A person who has
thoughts of a better Hfe wiU sometimes put
forth resolutions in the Hne of rectitude ;
thus trying to do by a promise, what he
can only do by a determination of the wfll.
There may be success in the development
of outward sanctities and moralities, — the
surface swept clean, — but the soul is as
black and bad as ever.
In the act of Hberating the captive wiU,

82 Christ and his Religion.
there may be great ease and peacefulness, as
if the soul went into liberty with a bound
of joy. There are persons, however, who
have to struggle exceedingly in order to be
free: it is Hke taking heaven by violence; Hke
fighting for one's Hfe. Augustine reached Hb-
erty in this way. He says: " Soul-sick was I,
and tormented, accusing myself much more
severely than my wont, rolhng and turning
me in my chain, till that were whoUy bro
ken, whereby I now was but just, but still
was, held. And thou, 0 Lord, didst press
upon me inwardly by a severe mercy, re
doubling the lashes of fear and shame, lest
I should again give way, and, not burst
ing that slight remaining tie, it should re
cover strength, and bind me faster. For
I said within myself, 'Be it done now, be
it done now'; and as I spake, I aU but
performed it; I aU but did it; and did it
not; yet sunk not back to my former state,
but kept my stand hard by, and took breath.
And I essayed again, and wanted somewhat
less of it, and somewhat less, and aU but
touched, and laid hold of it; and yet came
not to it, nor touched nor laid hold of it;
hesitating to die to death and to Hve to life;

Beginning of Religion in the Soul. 83
and the worse, whereto I was inured, pre
vailed more with me than the better where
to I was unused; and as the moment ap
proached wherein I was to become other
than I was, the greater horror did it strike
into me; yet did it not strike me back, nor
turned me away." *
Faith is the one act which proclaims that
the wUl has been changed. The whole pro
cess of regeneration culminates in this great
act of the soul. Faith is not single, but
complex. It includes within itself the chief
experiences of the soul, and makes use of
the chief faculties of the soul. With my
intellect I see that Christ is the divine-human
Saviour; with my heart I am attached to him;
with my will I trust in him. Thus light in
the faculty of thought, life in the faculty of
emotion, liberty in the faculty of action, find
their developed fruit in faith. The sense
of the divine, the relish for the divine,
choice of the divine, mingle together, and re
solve themselves into this noble grace. Per
fect faith brings back the soul to its normal
state. The distinguishing mark of all holy
beings is, that they rest in God. The char-
* "Confessions," book viii., sect. xi.

84 Christ and his Religion.
acteristics of unbelief are error, alienation,
and obduracy: the characteristics of faith are
truth, cordiality, and wilHngness. The re
ception of Christ is always linked with pen
itence, while the rejection of him is always
Hnked with impenitence. Faith is a contin
uous act. It does not begin with one mo
ment, and end with the next. The wUl is
set for trusting, just as the wiU is set for
repenting. He who makes faith a mere vo-
Htion, and not the steady movement of the
wUl, is sure to have a religion that will faU
to pieces when the storm strikes it. The
great difficulty with the unconverted man
is the fact that the wiU carries him along
continuously in unbelief, impenitence, and
disobedience; whUe with the converted man
the wiU has a constant tendency towards
faith, penitence, and obedience. Religion
as it begins in the soul has value and
meaning when it is viewed in this thor
ough manner; but make it simply a series
of fragmentary acts, and it is nothing but
a species of formalism.
Although we are not in the habit of think
ing of actions as performed in the mind,
there is yet a world of life in this unseen

Beginning of Religion in the Soul. 85
realm. The good man has his inward choices
of goodness, his mental deeds of power. The
soul speaks with itself, works with itself. It
sounds the alarm in times of danger, encour
ages in times of depression, arouses in times
of sluggishness, and soothes in times of trou
ble and grief. Sometimes a mental dialogue
takes place, as if the soul were two souls;
each one talking with the other, urging or
restraining the other. Take also the deter
mination of the mind to be watchful; keep
ing a steady look out for a day lest some
great and sudden temptation should lead it
off into sin. Continued watching is contin
ued action. The soul seems to walk around
the soul, aU eye, aU ear, lest an enemy should
be found stealing in. The standing on the
defensive and keeping what we have gained
are to be viewed as rehgious acts of the mind.
Positive struggles to be holy, and determined
efforts put forth to overcome sin, are in
stances of moral action.
Let us suppose that a battle is going for
ward on a moonlight evening, and that the
battle is reflected so as to be seen in the
clouds. You behold men on foot charging
against each other, and men on horseback

86 Christ and his Religion.
flying to and fro in the air. The cannons
are seen and men loading them, and the
banners of different regiments float and wave
in the sky. Soldiers are carrying off the
wounded and the dead. Ships of war are
seen also, for there is a naval conflict going
forward, and men are rushing across the
deck, ascending the rigging, and arranging
the sails. Some of the vessels are in flames,
and the officers and marines are escaping
from them. In the whole movement, how
ever, of this battle in the clouds, there is
sUence. The shout of the warrior is not
heard, and the sound of musket or cannon
faUs not upon the ear. So is it with that
conflict that is going forward in the soul.
The will is active; but all is stiU: the battle
is spiritual.
There is a kind of action in the mind
whose shadow is faintly seen on the out
side. Look at the silence of a saintly man
in certain circumstances. The silence may
be the result of an act of the wUl; it may
therefore speak. The very look of the eye
may be eloquence itself. It may touch the
heart, may move the will, may be more
powerful than human speech, more power-

Beginning of Religion in the Soul. 87
fui than the grandest act. There may be a
certain something about the man which we
can not describe; yet that certain something
may be fuU of spirituahty — full of the will.
The looking down or looking up, the standing
still or walking a few steps, may betoken
action in love of the most intense kind.
The entire Christian character, outward
and inward, may be viewed as one act,
including within itself vast numbers of re
sultant acts; just as we view the sea as one
whole, with one great motion; yet having
waves aU over it, and these waves foaming
or breaking asunder as they incline. The
atmosphere that surrounds the earth is also
a symbol of the active _ goodness of men.
There is found in connection with this invis
ible power what may be called a motion of
totahty; yet along with that there are strong
winds that drive ships, gentle breezes which
pass over the fields, and the soft sweet air
which fans the infant's cheek, and soothes
the fevered brow of the dying pilgrim.
Goodness, in whatever way we look at it,
never sleeps. It is holy life; beating march
with the heavenly times; singing always the
divine psalm of love.

88 Christ and his Religion.
The divine image that was defaced, is now
restored. The fire of God that went out, is
now rekindled. The altar that was lost, is
brought back to its place. The offering is
upon it. The priestly soul is standing beside
it. The temple gates that were shut, are
opened. Over the gates are written these
words — Here God Dwells.

CHAPTER IV.
MORALITY AND THE RELIGION OF CHRIST AS DIS.
TINGUISHED FROM EACH OTHER.
HPHERE are persons who try to convince
themselves that there is no essential
difference between morahty and religion;
and as the religious man will enter heaven
at last, they incline to hope that they will
enter it also, the life being the same in
both cases. There are others, however, who
beHeve that the difference between moral
ity and reHgion is infinite; and yet they
can not teU in every particular where the
difference Hes. It is necessary, therefore, to
present a clear statement of the two forms
of Hfe.
First, what is impHed in morality?
1. In morality there is an idea of a
moral law. This idea is found in all souls.
We call it intuitive. It never could be the
result of education, observation, or reflec
tion. It is a ray of the Eternal Light. It

90 Christ and his Religion.
is therefore left to no man's choice whether
he shall have it or not. Pleased or dis
pleased it remains as that divine thing
which can not be destroyed. No person
can ever sink so low as to escape from its
presence, and no one can ever rise so high
as to do without its directing hand. This
idea stands side by side with the idea of
cause and number, of time and space. It
differs, however, from these, in that it re
lates to that which is moral. There is such
a thing as sin, and such a thing as holi
ness; and these retain their character for
ever and ever. It were as easy to make
six to be nine, as to make evil to be good.
2. Another constituent of morality is a
feeHng of obligation to keep the law. Hav
ing at hand the idea of right, applying this
idea to some specific duty, the soul says,
Do that, you ought to do it, you sin if you
refuse to do it. There is a wonderful maj
esty about this fact of moral obligation;
a wonderful sacredness also. We seem to
stand in the presence of God, and his man
date sounds through the soul. No human
contrivance is the feeling of obligation. It
is the workmanship of the Deity. Savage

Morality and Religion. 91
or civilized, believer or unbeliever, each has
this great feeling. Even among the idiotic
and the insane we catch the echoes of a
command. The sense of obligation never
can be wholly destroyed. The divine never
completely dies. It may be weakened and
perverted, but it will speak through all eter
nity. It is the design of God that the feel
ing of obligation should be supreme. Make
it secondary, and man is lost. Whether it
is supreme or not, can be seen in what
follows. 3. There is an attempt made to keep the
moral law. Acts are performed that are
called right; performed when hindrances are
in the way; performed when a degree of
self-denial is necessary. The question, how
ever, is in regard to the intrinsic nature of
the morality. Is it pure? Does it satisfy
a law which can only be satisfied with holi
ness. Every thing has a nature. The par
ticular nature characterizes the particular
thing. The diamond, the ruby, the ame
thyst, are all different. Water and light,
air and electricity, are not the same. Even
things that resemble each other (as brass
and gold) are yet entirely different. Is the

92 Christ and his Religion.
common morality of man, then, the true
article? Let us see.
A person is known by the leading drift of
his mind. Is righteousness supreme? No
natural man, who knows himself, will say
that it is. Morality is really the outgrowth
of different kinds of feelings. A so-called
moral act may be performed under the
mere sense of propriety. There are men
who have a fine conception of order. They
want things to be done in harmony with
this conception. The claims of conscience
may not be any more thought of than the
claims of some potentate in Asia. Consis
tency also may incite one to action. There
are persons who have a certain moral stand
ing in society, and to retain that standing
they must act in a certain way. But con
sistency is not conscience, however uniform
the life may be that is wrought out under
its influence. A feeling of honor may also
shape human action. Contempt of mean
ness and a love of that which is noble and
generous may lead to the performance of
deeds that men call great. Honor, how
ever, is not holiness. We have known pro
fane and drunken men who had a touch

Morality and Religion. 93
of the honorable in their composition. The
feeling of self-respect and the desire to have
a good name, marshal souls into the moral
Hne. We have also the morality of expe
diency. This fills out more of Hfe than
many are apt to think. Shrewd action is
very often blank sin. Then we have natu
ral compassion and sympathy as powers.
Instinctive virtue, however, is not the vir
tue of a pure heart. If now we take the
love of the agreeable — that shapes a multi
tude of actions. That the feeHng of obH-
gation is also acted out in a certain way,
is not denied. There are persons who are
quite conscientious.
Secondly, what is now impHed in relig
ion? 1. There is an idea of God. The idea is
unique, just because the Being to whom it
relates is unique. We think not of him as
a kind of Infinite Man or Infinite Angel. In
his image we are made; and yet there is
that about him which never can be repre
sented by any thing that is created. In a
most significant sense he stands alone. He
has no development, no dependence, no
want. Then he must be viewed as existing

94 Christ and his Religion.
of necessity. The whole universe may pass
away, and there be no contradiction; but
an absolute Being must remain. As to the
divine personality, that is wrapped up in
the very idea of God. He is also appre
hended as Ruler and Redeemer. To know
him is eternal Hfe. To be without God is
death, — a kind of perdition.
2. There is a feeling of union with God
through Christ. Sin is opposition to the
divine character and claims, to the divine
law and sovereignty; and not till the feeHng
of reconciliation takes the place of that op
position, is there any such thing as piety
We may take the word religion from religo,
meaning to go back again. As we had de
parted from God in the spirit of rebelHon,
we now go back to him in the spirit of con
trite love. There is therefore friendship,
and a delight in aU that is divine. Unless
there is deHght in God and goodness, re
ligion is impossible. " As the heHanthus is
said to turn towards the sun, though clouds
may partially veil him, so the sincere soul
wiU struggle towards the Light." There is
a spirit of true obedience; an obedience char
acterized by the name godly. There is a

Morality and Religion. 95
feeling of general good- will; such a feeling
as was manifested by Christ when he came
to save souls.
3. There is implied also in religion an act
of complete self-devotement to God through
Christ. Religion is not one of many good
things, all as it were upon a level. It is
not to be ranked with fine taste, culture,
and phUanthropy. Religion is not a step
towards something higher, that something
higher being the chief goodness. If it does
not govern the soul, making servants of aU
the faculties of the soul, it is a delusion and
dream. Religion is pure life to the spirit
of man. This Hfe warms the ideas of the
reason, gives new direction to the judgment,
sends health into the heart, force and free
dom into the wiH. It is a remark of Rothe
that "he only is truly pious who is so, or
wishes to be so, with his whole being; not
only with aU his feelings and impulses, but
with aU the faculties of the understanding
and powers of the wiU." The well-formed
soul is not built up in separate sections, as
it were by a division of labor. There is
only one workman as time goes by. In fact
the Christian mind is not so much a buUding

96 Christ and his Religion.
as a growth. It is Hke a lily rising from its
germ; the one life touching all parts; the one
life ending in perfection. Piety is stamped
upon every thing which the pious man does.
The secular becomes sacred by its touch,
and the most common things become un
common by its power. If religion is not
supreme, sin is supreme. If God is not
made all, self is made all.
Such is a brief statement of what is im
plied in morality and in religion. Each caUs
into play the intellect, the sensibility, and
the wiU. There is an idea, a feeling, and an
act, in both kinds of life. Apart, however,
from this agreement, there is a marked
disagreement. Morality has not a single element which
satisfies a spiritual and perfect law. The
motives are not of the right character; and
to keep the law is not made the great end
of life. The morality is exceedingly formal
and outward. Only one side of the soul
seems to be in it, and that the side which
can not be called spiritual. A holy heart
moving to a holy Hfe is not seen. The ma
terial, therefore, out of which the morality
is made, is not good. And not only is it

Morality and Religion. 97
deficient in quaUty, but it is limited in the
sphere of its action. A very few virtues
will make a man moral. Let there be hon
esty, a degree of truthfulness, a touch of
pity and benevolence, and at once the per
son is deemed a model in the earthly sphere.
To be Hving without God is not thought to
be a grievous offence, although it is the sin
of sins. The most important duties that can
belong to an immortal being are reaUy lost
sight of, and nothing but a narrow scheme
of humanitarianism charms and cheats the
soul. Religion has God all through it. He is
the beginning, middle, and end. Thus the
soul takes its proper place in the divine
system. There is no resting in a fair life
at the very time the creaturely spirit is di
vorced from God. Only when in covenant
with him does it live. Religion wiU ter
minate in morality, but morahty can not
terminate in religion. A stream can not
rise higher than its source. Morahty lacks
vital power, because the spiritual nature is
dead ; it lacks authority, because the chief
end is self. If I begin right, I can not end
wrong; if I begin wrong, I can not end right.

98 Christ and his Religion.
The difficulty with the moral man is, that
the leading sinful state of the soul has never
been mastered. Every thing receives a col
oring from this sinful state. Mere human
morality can exist without any God at aU;
and just in that particular is its condemna
tion. A man may be a pantheist or atheist
and yet be moral, as persons speak of mo
rality. But religion can never go to any
such length as that. Then, again, religion
is strictly redemptive. But there is no re
demption in morality. It is nothing but nat
uralism, or self-development. Religion, how
ever, can have no existence apart from the
supernatural. It is evident also that there
is no worship in morality. When we look
at those glowing descriptions of heaven which
we find in the book of Revelation, we notice
mingled with them ascriptions of praise like
these: "They rest not day and night, say
ing, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty,
which was, and is, and is to come." Such
devotion is not possible with a dry moral
experience. But to see most truly the difference be
tween morality and religion, I wiU bring for
ward a person who acted out these two forms

Morality and Religion. 99
of life. Take the case of Dr. William Gorden
of England. He was a distinguished physi
cian, and a man of great learning.
Let us look first at Dr. Gorden the mor
alist. "In his manners, bearing, and lan
guage, refinement and taste of the highest
order were always evident. He could not
do a rude, a vulgar, or an unlovely thing.
Though he was abundant in his acts of pri
vate benevolence, yet he saw that far more
good would be done by enabling the poor
to help themselves, than by any acts of in
dividual charity, and therefore he labored to
elevate their condition inteUectually and mor
ally. In this important work he spared no
pains, grudged no time, and shrank from
no sacrifice. He was in a word, ' The
poor man's friend.' Many hours every day
were devoted to prescribing gratuitously for
crowds of the indigent who frequented his
house. Numerous were the cases in which
he not only gave medical advice, but re-
Heved the wants of his poor patients. It
was at home, however, and amongst his in
timate friends, that the lovehness of such a
character could alone be fuUy appreciated.
There his equable temper, his kindness in

ioo Christ and his Religion.
little things, his constant endeavor to make
all around him happy, endeared him to every
heart. His servants loved him as a friend,
as well as respected him as a master. He
gave his orders rather as if requesting a
favor than issuing a command, and never
suffered the least service to be rendered
him, without a kind acknowledgment. In
fact, humanly speaking, he seemed to be a
model man."
We may glance now at Dr. Gorden the
Christian. " Notwithstanding the external
blamelessness of his life, he repeatedly spoke
of himself, with deep emotion, as ' the chief
of sinners.' He said, 'I am so deeply sen
sible of my unworthiness and wickedness!
But then I look to Christ, and he has par
doned me, washed me, and clothed me in
his robe of righteousness. This is why I am
now contented and happy, with no dread
of death, because, though I see my own
vUeness, I see Christ as my Saviour. I am
a mass of corruption, bat I revel in the atone
ment. I can not doubt. I have been seek
ing religion for years by reason, but I could
not get it, and I have found it by becoming
a little child. I am a marveUous instance

Morality and Religion. ioi
of the gracious interposition of God. If
he sought me when I did not seek him,
why should I doubt, now I have gone to
him? Human wisdom is foUy, folly! though
I once did not think so. I have felt my
degradation and my black wickedness, but
he has forgiven me and washed me. Had
I no other evidence than my own feehngs,
of the truth of Christianity, it would be suf
ficient. If all the world were anti-Christian,
I should be a Christian.'"*
There is unquestionably a sceptical element
in morality, although it is not generally per
ceived. If the Christian religion has any
meaning, its central doctrine is the atone
ment of the God-man. Without this atone
ment, salvation is impossible. Yet the moral
ist affirms that his own works are sufficient.
If works are sufficient, then the atonement
is denied; and that, in principle, is infidel
ity. Again, the system of Christianity makes
known to us the important fact that, unless
a remedial influence is brought to bear upon
the soul, holiness is not possible. The mor
alist, however, believes that he has a holi-
* Newman Hall, "Closing Scenes of the Life of William
Gorden, M.D.," chap. viii.

102 Christ and his Religion.
ness of his own. If this is true, then a re
medial influence coming from God is false.
Christianity in this way falls to the ground.
The Bible next, viewed as an inspired book,
gives way; for the opinion which the moral
man holds in regard to his goodness, is the
opposite of what is found in Scripture. Thus
morality from its nature is sceptical. The
moralist should either lose all confidence in
his own righteousness, and then accept of
Christianity — or he should trust in his own
righteousness, and then accept of infidehty.
A consistent logic demands as much as this.
I think, however, that there is a class of
moral men who are trying to carry forward
in their minds a double movement, — they
mean to be as good as they can, and hope
at the same time that God in his infinite
mercy wiU save them. They are not wiU-
ing to affirm that their own works wiU en
title them to heaven. Their works are only
a necessary part, and the divine mercy is the
other part, and so with the blending of the
two they hope to be saved. The system is,
in a sense, natural religion. Some who adopt
it are strict rationalists, and others are pro
fessed believers in Christianity. Dr. Noah

Morality and Religion. 103
Webster inchned to this scheme of life for
a time. " He placed his chief reliance for
salvation on a faithful discharge of all the
relative duties of Hfe, though not to the
entire exclusion of dependence on the mer
its of the Redeemer." " He finally, how
ever, changed his course, feeling that sal
vation must be wholiy of grace."* The double
scheme is a delusion, and is entirely contrary
to the gospel system. It has in it the ele
ment of scepticism, just as morality has that
element. Indeed, one is reminded by it of
the deism of Lord Herbert. He depended
on works and on God at the same time.
The seal of Martin Luther represented a
rose; in the rose was a heart, and in the heart
a cross. A beautiful life can only spring from
pure love, and pure love can only spring from
the redemption of Christ.
* Memoir prefixed to his Dictionary, pp. 21, 22.

CHAPTER V.
THE ETHICS OF CHRIST AS THEY CHARACTERIZE
HIS RELIGION.
"DEFORE considering the main subject,
we may glance at the ethical schemes
of men. The human systems can be traced
back to the leading faculties of the mind.
1. That form of ethics which makes en
joyment the chief good has its home in the
sensibility. The earliest Hfe of the human
being is passed in the midst of sensations.
The child coming forth into consciousness is
full of wants. The love of pleasure is the
governing feeling. There is a tendency to
rest in means, as if they were ends. This
kind of life is often continued from child
hood to manhood. There is, however, no
morahty in it. If I choose holiness for its
own sake, I find both holiness and happi
ness : but if I choose happiness for its own
sake, I neither find happiness nor holiness.
2. Utilitarianism considered as a philoso-

Ethics of Christ. 105
phy is the product of the understanding.
This system demands a fine calculation of
chances. A moral nature, however, does
not seem to be required by it. That one
class of actions are eternaUy right in them
selves and another class eternaUy wrong, it
does not recognize. That which is called
sin in the ethics of utility can be nothing
more than a mistake ; and that which is
called guilt can be nothing more than a
feeHng of uneasiness which has arisen be
cause of the mistake. As to punishment
resulting from criminality, that can find no
place in the system. At the utmost there
can only be suffering; suffering in order to
make the man more cautious and careful in
the future. If utihty is goodness, then the
locomotive is a very holy machine, and a
man's watch a very saintly production.
3. To be enraptured with the vision of
eternal beauty is that form of Hfe which
springs from the reason, and is deemed by
a class of superior thinkers to be the ulti
mate life. Rising far above the material,
the phenomenal, and the seeming, we are
to enter the realm of pure intelligence —
face to face with eternal ideas and the un-

106 Christ and his Religion.
created good. Here we find the celestial
ocean that has no storms ; the divine day
that has no darkness. The mere activities
of men in connection with business, fami
lies, and nations, are but dull movements
when compared with the serene abstraction
of a great spirit. There is no question but
that this is an exalted life. It is not sur
prising that kingly minds have been at
tracted towards it. It seems to ease the
wandering spirit of its grief; carrying it
away to a region that has no pain. Strict
ly speaking, however, it is neither morality
nor reHgion. It is simply a transcendental
form of life. Wisdom is made the true vir
tue ; the abstract philosopher the true saint.
4. We come now to the ethics of con
science. There is a moral quality in actions.
Duty is the chief thing. With my intellect
I affirm that a statement is true or false :
with my conscience I affirm that an ac
tion is sinful or holy. Is the Hfe of duty
the complete life? No. A man may pay
a debt because it is right; pray to God
because it is right; and yet he may not
want to do the one or the other. This
shows that unless the feelings are holy,

Ethics of Christ. 107
nothing is holy. A just man may be a
bad man.
5. Another theory makes the ethical life
to start from the will. The will is not
merely the sign of personahty; it is viewed
as personality itself. AU goodness, there
fore, must centre in it. To be good is to
have a good wiU: to be bad is to have a
bad wiU. " There is nothing in the world,"
says Kant, "which can be termed absolute
ly and altogether good, a good will alone
excepted." "AgoodwUl is esteemed to be
so, not by the effects which it produces, nor
by its fitness for accomplishing any given
end, but by its mere good volition, that is,
it is good in itself."* Most assuredly this
is not a selfish theory. No man by nature,
however, has such a good wiU ; and no man
by nature can teU us how to make the wiU
good. Every theory mentioned fails, because man
himself is a failure. Sin as a fixed state of
the soul is entirely forgotten. The deaf are
simply trying to make known to us the
philosophy of hearing. In the ethics of
Christ we see a difference. They view us
* "Metaphysic of Ethics," pp. 1, 2.

108 Christ and his Religion.
as we are, and lead us out to what we
should be. Divine aid comes to the de
spairing soul. There must be a power be
yond truth and the highest ethics, or man
is doomed forever. Christ puts especial em
phasis upon the heart, and especial emphasis
upon the Spirit who changes it. It is not
possible to Hve a holy life without a holy
heart. The distinguishing mark of Christian
ethics is, that they do not simply tell us
that we must have the spirit of obedience
in order to please God, but they teU us
how that spirit of obedience can be found.
We thus begin right, and must end right.
Since Christ is a new character in history,
sustaining a new relation to the whole of
mankind, it is evident that a complete sys
tem of ethics must mention a class of duties
which we owe to such an exalted person. If
these duties should appear singular and ex
ceptional, to the extent that no mere creat
ure can exact them of us — that will only be
an evidence of their soundness, inasmuch as
they point to One who has a right to be
honored and obeyed. If a remarkable vir
tue called faith is made fundamental in the
ethics of Christ, that only proclaims the

Ethics of Christ. 109
fact that there is a Saviour who must be
trusted if we would reach holiness and God;
and if this deepens the sinfulness of man, it
only furnishes another argument for the per
fection of the gospel morality. In every
scheme of human ethics, there is a defi
ciency at some point; but in the ethics of
Jesus not the least flaw is perceptible. To
speak of the errors of Christ's teaching, is
just as fruitless as to speak of the sins of
his life.
According to Christian ethics the central
power is love. This shows that we have
entered an entirely new realm. There is
energy, freshness, warmth. We are to love
God with all the heart, soul, mind, and
strength. One of the saddest signs of the
lapse of men is the fact that God is left out
of their ethical schemes. " Whatever other
benevolence or generosity towards mankind,
and other virtues, or moral qualifications
which go by that name, any are possessed
of, that are not attended with a love to God
which is altogether above them, and to
which they are subordinate, and on which
they are dependent, there is nothing of the
nature of true virtue or religion in them. —

no Christ and his Religion.
And it may be asserted in general that
nothing is of the nature of true virtue in
which God is not the first and last." *
Another characteristic, however, of Chris
tian ethics is the striking fact that we are
called upon to love Christ supremely. With
the utmost distinctness he says: "He that
loveth father or mother more than me is
not worthy of me." This is certainly a new
kind of ethics; new in their object and new
in their nature. The fact that Christ is
God-man and Redeemer, makes it perfectly
safe to fix the heart upon him with supreme
attachment. All throughout the New Tes
tament, Christian action is made to revolve
around the Saviour of men. Are we to for
give ? " God for Christ's sake hath forgiven
us." Must we be willing to suffer? "Christ
suffered for us, leaving us an example that
we should follow his steps." Are we ex
horted to walk in love? "Christ also hath
loved us, and hath given himself for us."
Are we to assist those in want? "The
Lord Jesus Christ for our sakes became
poor." Must we pray? "If ye ask any
thing in my name, I will do it." Do we
* President Edward's "Works," vol. ii., p. 27i.

Ethics of Christ. iii
wish to catch hold of the ultimate motive ?
"The love of Christ constraineth us."
Glorious love ! How inimitable is thy
beauty ! Thou standest alone among the
stars of God. Thy day has no night; the
sky that surrounds thee no cloud. Thou
art the only true expression of the Deity.
What is expediency beside thee? What is
pleasure ? Yea, what is duty itself? Thou
art able to perform deeds and conquer hearts
where duty fails. Right is thy companion,
and ever shaU be; yet thou art nearer to
us than right. Order and law thou know-
est. Thou seemest to be both of these, and
better than both. Heaven is about thee.
Thy benedictions fall upon our ear; sweeter
to us than the seraphim's song. Thy pres
ence shaU be to us hope; and joy shaU glad
den our path because thou art near. Let
thy healing power fiU every channel of our
being; so that we shall breathe with com
fort as the hours pass; crippled not again
by the raging power of sin. May we have
meditations of sweetest Hfe, such as the
royal people have upon the hiUs of God.
Thou Messenger of goodness, how much we
need thee! Many a time we are laid low.

112 Christ and his Religion.
With firm steps and sure may we walk the
ways of life; thou going with us till the end
is reached; granting us courage when we are
inclined to sink, and strength to bear up in
the storm. Leave us not tiU every stain is
taken away and every wound healed; love
enthroned in the heart, and the sabbath of
heaven abiding with us forever.
Christian ethics look with special favor
upon the grace of humility. As humiliation
characterizes the entire life of Christ, so hu
mility should characterize the entire life of
the Christian. Aristotle caUs attention to
"the noble-minded" and "the Httle-minded,"
but it does not appear that either of these
characters possessed that virtue which we
caU by the name of humility. Indeed, in
pagan ethics, this lovely trait would be
viewed as a blemish, rather than as a vir
tue. It is a universal truth, however, that
goodness is impossible unless it springs from
an humble state of heart. The fact is wor
thy of notice that poverty of spirit is the
first beatitude which Christ mentions in his
Sermon on the Mount. He thus struck at
pride, and made the sense of nothingness
the basis and beginning of a holy life. It

Ethics of Christ. 113
is reported of St. Elizabeth of Hungary that,
on a certain time, beholding the image of
the dying Saviour, she took off her crown.
Being blamed by her mother-in-law for this
act, she replied: "Dear lady, do not blame
me; behold before my eyes the sweet and
merciful Jesus crowned with thorns, and can
I, who am but a vile creature, remain be
fore him wearing pearls, gold, and jewels?
My coronet would be a mocking to his
thorny wreath." * This shows a fine spirit.
"Humility is Hke the eye which sees every
thing but itself." If love is the fulfilling of
the law, humility is the fulfilling of love.
Pride shut the gate of heaven: humility opens
it. The idea of merit which runs through
all human systems of ethics and religion,
is not recognized in the ethics and religion
of Christ. The fact that we are justified by
faith, and not by works, compels us to look
for merit in the redemptive righteousness
of the Son of God. The ethics of Jesus
are thus entirely unique. They" stand just
as much alone, as he stands alone in the
history of man.
Although we do not have a system of
* Montalembert's "Life of St. Elizabeth," p. 124.
8

114 Christ and his Religion.
Christian ethics, the principles are of such
a nature that they reach out to whatever
is essential. Dr. Temple, however, informs
us that "it is in the history of Rome, rather
than in the Bible, that we find our models
and precepts of political duty, and espe
cially the duty of patriotism." * The in
ference would be from this statement, that
Christians are not sufficiently possessed with
the virtue of patriotism; that the Bible being
deficient in this one particular, those who
believe in it are equally deficient. Is it not
a fact, however, plainly seen in the past,
that religious men are the most faithful de
fenders of their country ? It can not be de
nied that the Roman patriotism had a large
infusion of vain-glory mixed up with it; and
the very people who were deemed the great
est became the lowest: the passion that was
in them devoured itself and died. The Chris
tian patriotism has a grounding of liberty
and justice, love and the glory of God. The
truth is, a sound character is the soul and
inspiration of all that is good. The Chris
tian is from his nature a law to himself in
whatever sphere he may be placed. He
* "Essays and Reviews," p. 20. English ed.

Ethics of Christ. 115
does not need to read over the whole sys
tem of jurisprudence in order to be a good
citizen. He is a good citizen because he is
a good man. Let aU the statutes of the land
be abolished, and he would still be faithful.
The character that can not hold together un
less it has rules and specifications for every
thing, is a very imperfect character. True
enough the Bible does not present us with
an elaborated system of ethics. It knew
better than do that. It plants great prin
ciples in the heart, — and speedily the good
father, neighbor, and citizen appear on the
stage of life. Whatever may be the culture
and civilization of any period, the Christian
ethics are sure to match that period. Their
adaptedness to all circumstances is one mark
of their divinity. Instead of coming short
of the highest human development, they will
always go beyond that development. They
know notiiing of any new virtue. Neither
in theory nor practice can such a virtue be
pointed out.
The gospel narratives present us with mor
al perfection in a person, and not as a mere
abstract ideal. Plato tried to form the con
ception of a perfect man, just as he tried

116 Christ and his Religion.
to form the conception of a perfect republic,
yet neither the man nor the repubhc has
ever been seen. There remains nothing but
the cold silent thought, looking upon us as
the star looks upon us in the darkness.
Neander, speaking of the "Relation of the
Grecian to Christian Ethics," says: "We see
in the Stoical ethics the necessity not merely
of thinking of morality in an abstract gen
eral way, but of presenting a picture of
moral conduct stamped in clear, individual
features. Such a picture the idea of the
sage should furnish. The sage in the em
pirical manifestation, exhibits himself as aim
ing, in his efforts, at the ideal. But he who
is conceived of as endeavoring to reach the
ideal, involuntarily confounds himself with
his ideal, and this leads to the sage's self-
exaltation to the deifying of human nature."*
Thus there was a failure. The very height
to which the sage seemed to go only intoxi
cated him; and so he fell in his attempts to
rise. Better for us that we can behold mor
al perfection in a person; moral perfection
acted out during a lifetime ; acted out in
the very same circumstances in which we
* "Bibliotheca Sacra," vol. x., p. 491.

Ethics of Christ. 117
are placed. The fact is patent to us; we
are impressed by it; holier we become on
account of it. Give to us the Redeemer,
and at once we have a perfect system of
morals. Christian ethics are simply the ex
pression of Christ's life. We go back, then,
to the fountain-head. The Perfect Exampler
is before us. A power comes to us from
the living Christ, more inspiring than from
his ethical system, though the one is the
counterpart of the other. A law or an ideal
never can lift us as a person can.
There is no telling to what an extent
Christ has influenced the spirits of men.
He has touched all modern Hfe. Even the
most wayward heart feels his power. The
wisdom of many a sceptic is his Hght, and
the virtue of many a moralist has come from
him. The very strength by which men de
stroy the temple of God is not their own,
and the weapons with which they contend
are the spoUs of Calvary and the cross.
There is a spiritual atmosphere aU around
us that he has created, and we breathe that
when we know it not. None of us are the
same that we would have been had he not
appeared. In some way or .another . he has

118 Christ and his Religion.
blessed us all. The very child seems to be
different because he has lived, and the way
through death is not so dark because he has
passed through it. Perhaps the wicked are
more desperate because they have grieved his
love, whUe the saintly are more Godlike be
cause they have found a home in his heart.
In the ages of the future he wiU be more
powerful than in the ages of the past. A
wider realm he wiU fill, and a loftier race
he will fit for heaven. In the slow march
ing years the world shall at length bow be
fore him, and the Man of Nazareth and the
Son of eternity shall be king over them all.
Our sense of obligation is greatly deep
ened by the ethics of Christ. Exceedingly
important truth is condensed, and pressed
upon us. We seem to have come into con
tact with normal forces. The divine law
w th its compass of requirement, pure spirit
uality, mighty sanctions, awes the soul, and
arouses it to action. The simple fact that
we are sifted and searched, makes us to
see how much of evil clings to us. A
rounded thought of the holiness of God star
tles us. A vision of the purity of Christ ex
tends the area of our obhgation. One single

Ethics of Christ. 119
duty, in which are seemingly wrapped up
all other duties, may so bring us to a stand
that the weight of worlds wiU press upon
us. Just to the extent that any mind feels
its accountability, just to that extent is its
worth and greatness seen. It is not mere
knowledge that makes the man, but it is
moral power, great moral action. Christ
himself has presented to us a picture of ob
ligation when he had to carry the burden
of a world's guilt. The spiritual nature is
to keep widening and deepening tiU the
whole weight of responsibility that comes
from a perfect law shaU rest upon us, and
we shaU carry it with love.
As the ethics of Christ run into the plan
of redemption, motives to faithfulness are
multiplied. We discover a new way of
looking at the universe ; a way that ex
presses the actual state of things. This
actual state of things appeals to us with
unwonted power. Facts and laws, princi
ples and persons, move our soul. Through
out the New Testament, we meet with
such motives as "the mercies of God,"
"the unsearchable riches of Christ," "the
love of the Spirit," "the powers of the

120 Christ and his Religion.
world to come." Every fair-minded per
son must admit that the Christian life is a
new form of life. There are sceptics who
tell us that the ethics of Buddhism and
the ethics of Christianity are about equal
in value; and that it makes no great differ
ence whether a man is a Christian or a
Buddhist. Now, while some of the princi
ples may appear to be the same in both
systems, it is evident that the character
which is formed by Christianity differs in
kind, and not merely in degree, from that
which is formed by Buddhism. A veritable
Christian is altogether a new type of man.
Christian ethics are essentially the ideal
ethics of the universe. If we are to love
God with all the powers of the mind, and
our neighbor as ourselves, that must be the
rule for every inteUigent being throughout
the system of the Creator. The angels in
heaven can do nothing more than this:
Adam in Paradise could do nothing more.
Even when we reach out to the Divine Be
ing and test his character, we can find no
better statement than the Bible one — "God
is love." The ~law of love admits of no
sin; it therefore contains aU goodness. Let

Ethics of Christ. 121
it be carried out, and the whole world
would be holy and happy. Supposing that
the human race had never sinned, no other
law could have governed them but the law
of love. The ultimate standard, therefore.
is reached.

CHAPTER VI.
WORSHIP AS A CENTRAL FEATURE OF THE RELIG
ION OF CHRIST.
rT",HE word "worship" is composed of
worth and ship. On the one hand,
God is worthy of honor because he is God;
and on the other hand, the worship which
we render to him must have worthiness. If
it has not this quality it is worthless, and
not worship.
The simplicity of Christian worship arrests
attention. A reHgion that is false, is usuaUy
intricate. When Christianity became cor
rupt, it became burdensome in its forms of
worship. The only two rites which char
acterize the religion of Jesus are noted for
their simple beauty. By the aid of water,
typical of purity, we are set apart to the
service of the triune God. By the aid of
bread and wine, symbolizing the death of
Christ, we are led to think of the incarnate
Redeemer. No elaborate system meets us.
No gorgeous ritual absorbs the affections,

Worship as a Central Feature. 123
ana keeps the mind away from God. We
behold no altar, no sacrifice, no priest, no
temple. Each heart is an altar, each soul
a sacrifice, each Christian a priest, each mind
a temple. The Christian worship comes out
of the soul, and not out of symbols. There
is no rigid driU by the aid of manifold ordi
nances. " The simple and unimposing char
acter of the Christian ritual," says Dr. Caird,
"is an indication of spiritual advancement,
inasmuch as it arises from the fact, that
while the rites of Judaism were mainly dis
ciplinary, those of Christianity are spontane
ous and expressive. In the old dispensation,
ritual observances constituted an elaborate
mechanism for the awakening of rehgious
thought and feeHng; in the new economy,
they are the actual and voluntary manifesta
tion of religious thought and feeling already
existing." "Besides this, the gospel rites
are commemorative, whilst those of the for
mer dispensation were anticipative. To de
pict the unknown, a much more elaborate
representation is needed than merely to re-
caU the known. To reproduce in the mind
the idea of a former friend, is a simpler
and easier process than to portray the as-

124 Christ and his Religion.
pect and character of a stranger."* Chris
tianity being the final religion, it is fixed,
clear, and unmaterial. The shadow is lost
in the substance.
As a necessary condition of worship, there
must be a vivid conception of God. A dull
and distant thought of Deity will not an
swer. The mind must be aroused and vital
ized. It must be in a frame in which it can
think and feel and act with reference to God.
Emotion must be in the will and intellect,
as weU as in the heart. The soul must be
possessed as it were with God. Men are
possessed with thoughts of power, of ambi
tion, of fame, of learning, of wealth, and of
pleasure. Many are possessed with a domi
neering appetite, with passions that can not
be conquered, with a heavy indifference,
with a sharp opposition to the pure and
the divine. Some are possessed with the
supremacy of reason, as if they were gods
— worshipping themselves. Others are pos
sessed with ideas of mystery, and with con
tradictions which they find in the kingdoms
of nature and Hfe. They adopt the religion
of despair. The Christian must be possessed
* "Sermons," pp. 340, 344.

Worship as a Central Feature. 125
with that which is divine. He must have
the true enthusiasm, — being in God.
If a man is to think at any time, he must
think when he approaches God in worship.
Any thing like haste or rashness is unsuit
able. The preparation for coming into the
divine presence is thought; careful and dis
criminating thought. Our ideas touching the
Most High must be lengthened and rounded,
until he stands before us as the Great Re
ality. To the extent that it is possible, God
is to impress us. There is to be such a con
ception of his nature, character, plans, and
works, that we shaU be filled and arrested
by the wonderful thought. No doubt a
single phase of the Infinite Being, pondered
carefully, will awaken intense emotion ; but
yet, for the sake of health and safety to
the soul, our views of the Godhead must
have compass. We are sure to be one
sided in our character, if our views of God
are one-sided. Although we can not grasp
the Infinite, we must none the less have a
certain measured order when we think about
the Infinite. If I am simply captivated with
his power, his wisdom, or his wUl, I am sure
to be unhinged and unbalanced. Or if I think

126 Christ and his Religion.
of him as the immutable God, the sovereign
of law, justice, and order, and go no further
than these, I am locked up as in a prison.
Or again, if his love attracts me, and I lose
sight of aU else but that, I am bewildered
by a divine briUiancy, tiU finally I behold
nothing with distinctness. There is no other
way than to take God as he is. Any soul
that will do this, will be enriched. There
will be a certain majesty and divinity about
the mind, just because the divine thoughts
are allowed to fashion it. When one thus
situated attempts to worship his Maker, we
can see that there is a finished intelligence
at work. The Object to be worshipped is
realized. There is no blind homage. AU
is suitable in the given circumstances. The
soul is therefore blessed, and God is glorified.
As a vivid conception of the Divine Being
is all-important in the matter of worship,
preaching comes in as tending to produce
the state of mind that is wanted. Strictly
speaking, preaching is not worship. It is
simply an aid to worship. Both the preach
er's and hearer's mind may be brought into
a worshipping state by the thoughts of the
sermon. Worship may even be ascending

Worship as a Central Feature. 127
to God at the very time one is listening to
the truth. Preaching and worship may thus
blend together; as if preaching at its high
est altitude were a species of worship. I
think it is evident at any rate, that the ac
tion of the mind upon the truth, or the
truth upon the mind, is the proper ante
cedent of worship. One must either be in
a meditative state by himself, or he must
be in that state whUe Hstening to the utter
ances of the preacher.
The proclamation of divine truth is a most
reasonable method of impressing the mind.
This presupposes, however, that the preach
ing has weight. A certain reverence must
be paid to the higher faculties of the mind.
The soul is not merely immortal itself, but
it has a great deal in it that is equaUy im
mortal. Then it links itself on to God, and
its destiny is never to be separated from him.
How fit, then, that it should be' treated in a
way that harmonizes with this exalted state.
If it is the command of Scripture to ' ' honor
aU men," most assuredly the soul should be
honored by presenting to it great thoughts.
These thoughts are to be cast in the mould
of argument, inasmuch as man is a reason-

128 Christ and his Religion.
able being. The mind wiU reason, whether
it be truly or falsely. There is a logic which
all men have; and sooner or later they wiU
face the great problems of life. A dis
course that wiU command the attention of
the soul, must have power and system. It
must betoken labor. The Hfe-blood of the
emotions must be in it. The wondrous
themes of Christianity are to be presented
in a dress that is suitable to their exalted
character. Style and thought are to go to
gether. The common-place is out of place.
Truths are to come to us in their own ful
ness; clear as their own eternal Hght; vital
with that life that appertains to God. Their
strength will make the soul to be strong, and
kingly with aU the majesty of truth. There
is to be warmth, but not that of mere excite
ment. The heat is to come from the fires of
God: pure, powerful, permeating the whole
being, making the soul to worship as if in
the temple of heaven.
A thoughtful reading of Scripture is also
a concomitant of worship. A sense of the
divine should go with us as we scan the
sacred pages. If the sermon should cause
us to have a vivid conception of God, the

Worship as a Central Feature. 129
Bible should heighten that conception. We
are now face to face with the Supreme
Author himself. We are reading the very
words of God. The thoughts of God are
moving through our soul. Impressions are
made upon us which are never made by
any other means. We see truth in a new
Hght, it holds us by a new authority, it
stamps a new image upon the soul. A sin
gle passage from the Bible will sound the
depths of the human spirit, as not even the
finest passage from the writings of man can
attempt to do. There is a certain frailty
about aU human thoughts. They are struck
with the disease that affects sinful souls.
The utterances of God are life. They carry
on their countenance the bloom of health.
They speak with power to the strongest
men. There is a certain massiveness about
the leading Bibhcal statements. There is
nothing of the empty or the forced. We
catch the idea of silent power and divinity.
The mind is rendered serious. It is set in an
attitude for worship. Then there is an un
der-current of pathos running through many
parts of the divine writings. There is noth
ing worked up as. if it were made to order.
9

130 Christ and his Religion.
There is simply the natural flow of pensive
emotion, stealing out as it were in secret.
Its very fineness and spirituality cause it to
enter- the soul without a witnessing eye.
One feels in a certain mood without know
ing how he came into it. The soul is pre
pared for worship as if angels had been work
ing with it, or as if seraphs had breathed
upon the heart while they passed by on their
way to God. " It may be said of the Bible,"
remarks Henry Rogers, "that it has made
susceptible of pathos, and brought within
the range of human emotion, subjects which
had hitherto dwelt in the region of remote
abstractions, or, if they ever came nearer,
came in forms which awakened only awe
or terror. To famUiarize, to endear, the
thought of God, without degrading the con
ception; to bring him within the sphere of
human affections, without impairing his maj
esty, is the triumph of the Bible." * The de
votional mind is the result of meditation on
Scripture thoughts. There are many parts
of the Bible that seem almost themselves to
be worship; as if they were clothed with
form and were adoring God; their chantings
• "Superhuman Origin of the Bible,'' p. 295.

Worship as a Central Feature. 131
falling upon the ear like the voices of pen
itent men, and their melody sweet as that
which comes from the choirs of the Lord.
There are passages in the gospels and the
epistles, in the book of Revelation and the
Psalms, that lead us at once into the great
temple of the Almighty; as if we were stand
ing among the companies of the celestial dur
ing the morning worship of heaven; praising
the Highest One in the midst of peace, and
gladness that has no pain.
It is the peculiarity of worship upon earth
that it is redemptive. The worship of un-
fallen beings has no redemptive features.
It is worship in all its sanctity and single
ness; centering not in a person caUed the
Redeemer. The worship of man is entirely
different from this. It can not begin or con
tinue except through the power of Christ;
can not reach God except through the divine-
human Saviour. The Redeemer is every
thing. The worship, however, is not merely
inspired by Christ; does not merely pass
through him to God: Christ himself is wor
shipped. He being the Eternal " Word who
was with God, and who is God," we adore
him. Not to do this would be to set aside

132 Christ and his Religion.
the plan of redemption, would be to reject
the Divine Being himself. "Whosoever de-
nieth the Son, the same hath not the Father."
The worship that finds its heart and home
in the suffering Saviour, has elements and
thoughts which give it a superior value. The
Christian has new experiences of God's love
and mercy, which the sinless angels have not;
and so his worship has a uniqueness on that
account. When the worship of saintly men
is absolutely pure, as it wiU be in heaven,
it will have a richness and sublimity which
never can be equaUed by the worship of
unfallen spirits. As the incarnation and re
demption of the eternal Son of God are the
most notable wonders that are to be found
in the universe, so the life and worship that
spring from them must be superlative in their
nature. When I analyze the Christian emotions, I
see at once that they find their proper out
let in worship. As Vinet truly remarks,
" Worship is the purely religious form of
reHgion. It is adoration in act." "A rite
is a metaphor in action, while worship is
action itself." * I no sooner think of God,
* "Pastoral Theology," pp. 178, 179.

Worship as a Central Feature. 133
and of man, and of the Mediator between God
and man, than I think of worship. I am
solemnized by a sense of the divine presence.
I reverence the Divine Being. I worship
him. As I look at the leading emotions of
my heart, I find them all to be prayers.
When I sigh as I think of life and of death,
of worlds unknown and infinite time, that
sigh is a prayer. The penitence which I ex
ercise is not the penitence of a moment or
an hour; it is in fact the ceaseless cry for
pardon. Am I thankful that Mercy has
smiled upon me ? The thankfulness is of
the very essence of worship. Do I desire
to reach moral perfection? That desire is
a prayer. Do I love the Absolute Loveli
ness? That seems Hke sUent worship. Am
I hoping to reach heaven through the blood
of the Lamb ? That is a kind of half-formed
supphcation. Does a feeHng of admiration
arise in my soul as I think upon the works,
providence, and perfections of God? The
admiration is one of the leading phases of
worship. Thus the governing emotions of
the Christian mind, present us with the rudi
ments of worship. These emotions are the
pulsations of the inner life, the breathings

134 Christ and his Religion.
after God, the perpetual incense that ascends
on high, the sacrifice that finds acceptance
with the Holy One. Without these hallowed
movements of the regenerate heart, worship
would be impossible.
Real prayer, however, is not mere feel
ing; it is the expression of feeHng. The de
sires of the soul are incarnated in lan
guage, and with the language I address
God. Thus the subjective and the objec
tive join themselves together. I feel my
sin, and ask for pardon. I feel my weak
ness, and ask for strength. AU prayer is
distinct. There is always an object in view.
The cloudy or the indefinite finds no place
in supplication. Prayer is no reverie, no
mystic speech, no pious meditation, no des
canting on the works and ways of God.
Prayer should have point. It should go
direct to heaven, telling what it wants. I
make no speech, address no " man when I
pray. The attempt to be eloquent, the
attempt to make a great prayer, is not
prayer. The Divine Being only is before
me. I think of him. I pray to him as
my heart leads. If I want truth to pre
vail, evils to cease, souls to be saved. I

Worship as a Central Feature. 135
pray for these things. If my faith is weak,
my hope dim, my love cold, I pray that the
faith may be stronger, the hope brighter,
and the love warmer. If I feel grateful to
God, I express my gratitude. If his great
ness and glory thriU my soul, I adore him.
If creaturely objects captivate me, I pray
that my heart may be set on God. If I
can not see my way, I pray for light.
Thus all is definite. I do not wander from
object to object, not knowing very well
what I am doing; trying it may be to
make a prayer, but not praying.
Sometimes the soul labors in its emotion.
There is mental pain. The desire is heavy.
It is oppressive. There is a kind of agony.
One feeHng swaUows up aU the other feel
ings. It is difficult to find language by
which to express the burdensome emotion.
There is a tendency, therefore, to hold on
to a sentence, and to repeat it, when it
seems to echo forth the great feeling of the
soul. When Christ was in an agony, there
was a divine condensation about his words;
and his prayer was repeated. He could
'simply say: "0 my Father, if it be possi
ble, let this cup pass from me: neverthe-

136 Christ and his Religion.
less, not as I will, but as thou wilt."
"The second time he prayed, saying, 0 my
Father, if this cup may not pass away
from me, except I drink it, thy wUl be
done." " He prayed the third time, saying
the same words." This is the way the soul
acts when swayed by powerful emotions.
There is unity also to the mind by reason
of the singleness and power of the feeling.
The prayer from the nature of the case is
short. Or if it is lengthened, it will have
a number of similar expressions. The ur
gent prayers of the Bible are of this char
acter. In the book of Daniel we have
such language as this: "0 Lord, hear; 0
Lord, forgive; 0 Lord, hearken and do;
defer not, for thine own sake, 0 my God."
This is the language of earnest, painful
emotion. It expresses itself in broken sen
tences. When we approach God in prayer, there
is a suitable balancing of awe and freedom.
On the one hand, we do not rush into the
divine presence; and on the other hand, we
do not fear to pronounce the infinite name.
The great Augustine, though he carried with
him a profound sense of sin and guilt, had a

Worship as a Central Feature. 137
holy freedom and boldness when he ap
proached the Divine Being. " Indeed, the
feeling which Augustine bears towards the
Blessed Triune God, can not be better ex
pressed than by the word affectionateness.
There is in his experience awe ' deep as
the centre ' ; there is humility absolute; there
is the reverential fear of the wing-veiled ser
aphim; but there is, also, in and through it
aU, that confiding love which is both war
ranted and elicited by the dying prayer of
the Redeemer." * The Moravians have been
distinguished for their ease and chudlike free
dom in the whole of their worship. This
characteristic has been cultivated by a vivid
sense of Christ as their God and Saviour.
He seems to be so near to them, that they
open their heart with gladness. They have
a present salvation, a present Saviour, and
so with an assured faith and a fervent love
they offer up their supphcations. The primi
tive Christians were very much in the same
blessed state. They thought of Christ, loved
him, worshipped him. They were not ser
vants, but friends. The 'more the Christly
* Prof. Shedd's Introduction to "Augustine's Confessions,"
p. 19.

13& Christ and his Religion.
element enters into our piety and our
prayers, the more shaU we have a suitable
balancing of awe and freedom.
We come now to. the fact oi praise as a con
stituent of worship. The soul is charmed by
a conception of the divine glory, and so it
praises the Divine Being. When we turn
to the Psalms, we are struck with the flow of
exultant emotion. We hear David saying: "I
wiU extol thee, my God, 0 King, and I will
bless thy name for ever and ever." "I will
speak of the glorious honor of thy majesty,
and of thy wondrous works." "Praise the
Lord with harp: sing unto him with the
psaltery and an instrument of ten strings."
We notice here a certain exuberance and
joy. The flood gates of the soul are opened,
and the glad feelings of praise rush forth.
There is a degree of ecstasy; a species of
holy abandon. Perhaps the Oriental mind
was emotional and expressive. Western na
tures are colder; not so easily moved; not in-
chned to sound forth gladsome feelings. StiU
our praise should have vitality and volume.
There should be tone to it. Heart is needed,
whether the worship is ecstatic or calm.
Our hymnology is not always fitted for

Worship as a Central Feature. 139
praise. There are hymns which are horta
tory in their nature. They make us to
think of preaching; and when sung, they
are rather aids to worship, than worship it
self. Take this hymn as an instance:
"Come, ye sinners! heavy laden,
Lost and ruined by the fall, —
If you wait till you are better,
You will never come at all:
Sinners only,
Christ, the Saviour, came to call."
It is perfectly proper to sing hymns of this
character, just as it is proper to preach the
truth of God. The gospel can be sung as
well as preached. It should be known, how
ever, that to sing such hymns is not strictly
worship. There are other hymns which are
of the nature of a meditation. Take this
one as a specimen:
"When musing sorrow weeps the past,
And mourns the present pain,
How sweet to think of peace at last,
And feel that death is gain ! "
There would not be much reason in say
ing, " Let us worship God, in singing the
above hymn." As a thoughtful piece of
poetry it may answer; but not as the chan-

140 Christ and his Religion.
nel or expression of worship. The sentiment
of many hymns, however, is that of direct
praise. These for example:
"Jesus, lover of my soul."
" Rock of ages cleft for me."
" Great God ! how infinite art thou !"
"Praise to thee, thou great Creator!"
The adoration of God in psalms and hymns
and spiritual songs is to be a fact. Noth
ing is to be substituted for this. However
eager we may be to impress the souls of
men, the fuU-volumed worship of God is to
be made the chief matter. Worship is an
end; not the means to an end. If I attempt
to worship God as a means of spiritual im
provement, I do not worship him at all.
Professor Schoberlein, in his "Theory of
Pubhc Worship," states the point in this
way: "Even the object of edification, itself
the purest and most comprehensive that
could have been contemplated, did not
originate worship. Do I pray, praise God,
and give thanks, in order to edify myself?
Such express design throws the soul into
a position and state injurious to the sim
ple, childlike feeling of worship, and so
hinders real edification. Design and effect

Worship as a Central Feature. 141
should not be confounded in this matter.
An effect of worship is indeed the good of
the soul, just as the divine pleasure is also.
But, exactly when we do not seek these as
objects, are they the most certain to follow." *
Praise to God naturaUy connects itself
with music. This is finer and more ethe
real than human speech. It is really a
language by itself. It sounds the depths
of the soul as no words of man can ever
sound them. It can awaken fear and ter
ror, subhmity and wonder, joy and sad
ness, hope and courage, love and hatred.
It seems to work its way through the human
spirit as if it were a divine essence. It starts
a class of emotions that are somewhat indefi
nite, and very powerful just because they are
indefinite. Those cries of the soul that speak
to the ear of God, the longings that go out
to unbounded reahties, the hidden fires that
seem to "burn forever, are aU touched and
moved by the power of music. We are
awed into silence, or hurried forward into
the most impetuous action, by its mysterious
influence. It melts many a heart Jthat is
hard, and causes day to shine upon the soul
* Presbyterian "Quarterly Review," vol. vi., p. 426.

142 Christ and his Religion.
that is wrapped in gloom. We think of
music as if it were a kind of heavenly lan
guage; as if the angels used it during their
day of love; and glorified men praised God
with it in the courts of life. That music is
a fit vehicle for worship can not be doubted.
It gives expression to aU the feelings. The
devotional mind is at home where it is found.
Praise languishes where it is not known.
"In aU Christian worship," says Julius
Muller, " an exalted place must be given
to music. It is distinguished from sculp
ture, and painting, and architecture, by its
capabihty of repetition; its capability of most
diversified uses, as a representation of a great
variety of objects, and in forms and condi
tions not less numerous. In the other arts,
we have presented before us but a single
object or a single group of objects, in one
fixed and unchangeable attitude; a represen
tation of but one condition, and one phase
of feeHng. The idea of succession, of move
ment, of activity, is foreign to these arts;
whfle in music there may be endless va
riety. Hence is music capable of entering
into the province of worship with such Hve-
Hness, and such strength of effect. A mu-

Worship as a Central Feature. 143
sical composition is capable of becoming, as
it were, a history of the interior life of man,
of his separation from God, of his fellowship
with Christ."*
The very fact, however, that music is such
a power, may lead one to fix the mind upon
it as the chief thing; and thus worship be
gone altogether. The sweet sounds attract;
the music is a good in itself; the soul, there
fore, rests in it. Formalism in this way is
introduced; introduced almost unconsciously.
It is to be feared that the department of
praise in public worship is, in many cases,
nothing but a mere name. The hearts of
the professed worshippers do not ascend to
God in the language of the hymn, aided by
the music. They sing; sing with sweetness
and life; but not with the spirit and the un
derstanding. Praise must assume its right
ful place in the Christian mind. The idola
try of form must give way to the pure
worship of God.
* "Bibliotheca Sacra," vol. xiv., p. 814.

CHAPTER VII.
DECA YIN THE RELIGION OF CHRIST FROM CAUSES
IN HUMAN NA TURE.
\ VIEWING Christianity ideaUy it has no
* principle of decay. Like its Author
it is complete. But viewing it as a life in
fallen souls, struggling to restore them to
the image of God, it works under great dis
advantages. That there are Christian men
who battle most nobly with inward corrup
tion, and who show scarcely any symptom
of moral decline, is a pleasant fact; but there
are others who yield to the tendencies of a
bad nature. " If you make a dog a king,
wiU he not stiU gnaw leather ? "
I. Decay in Religion from Evils of the
Heart. 1. Decay from indifference. A heart that
is partly sanctified, is a heart that is partly
stupefied. Indwelling sin is indwelling death.
Every Christian is conscious of a certain duU-

Decay in Religion. 145
ness; and if he yields to that he sinks. " The
Scythians used to strike the cords of their
bows at their feasts to remind themselves
of danger." If we are intent against heavi
ness it wiU flee away.
2. Decay in religion may spring from the
lo\ e of ease. Love of ease is the twin-sister
of indifference. It wishes neither to carry
a cross nor to walk through darkness. The
great responsibilities, the severe duties, the
self-denials of the Christian caUing, it wants
not. The love of ease is pure indolence and
selfishness. He who Hstens to this feeling
loses power. He does nothing, and is noth
ing. There are birds that pass on to the sun
ny south through storms as weU as through
pleasant skies, while others rest on their way
till the mists and clouds depart. If we would
win we must work. Great hindrances may
be great helps.
3. A careless habit wiU open the way to
spiritual declension. He who forgets his
Bible, his closet, his church, is in the arms
of death. Forgetfulness is one of the broad
ways of sin. A ship can be lost by care
lessness as well as by design. The evils of
life come mainly through inattention. If I
10

146 Christ and his Religion.
mind not I find not. Many a Christian lands
himself in darkness, because he thought not
of the light. Souls are lost at no cost.
"Every man has a weak side; but a wise
man knows where it is, and will be sure to
keep a double guard there."
4. The attractive element of sin may draw
the mind away from the path of holiness.
The faUen nature loves its own quality as
the drunkard loves his cups, the gambler
his cards, the thief his plunder. All may
admit that sin is evfl; but it has certain
pleasures connected with it, and for the
sake of these it is chosen. The corrupt
affections want to be gratified, while they
ought to be crucified.
5. The secular spirit hastens the decay of
piety. It is like frost to a flower, rust to
iron, the leprosy to man. If the world holds
the soul, the soul holds the world. Fervor
in reHgion, a strong faith, a bright hope, holy
activity, are impossible if the secular spirit
reigns. The ancients say that at Epirus
there was a fountain which had the strange
power of not only extinguishing a flame,
but also of kindling one. Spirituality of
mind wUl be sure to burn up worldlines.s,

Decay in Religion. 147
while it will kindle into a flame those aspi
rations that seek for holiness and God.
6. A wayward imagination is another cause
of decline in religion. The imagination is the
gymnasium where souls are trained to vice.
This faculty paints and pleases. When re
ligious men startle others by a sudden plunge
into evil, the work began in the imagination.
Their deceptions, plots, and impure deeds
flourished for a season in this unseen realm.
It is a question even whether the fall of
the first man was not hastened by the im
agination. 7. Attachment to a particular sin wiU
deaden the religious nature. A besetting
sin may be the bane of Hfe, producing the
greatest misery. Sometimes there is an at
tempt to be exceedingly careful with a
round of duties that are easy, so as to make
up, as it were, for this sin that is difficult
to manage. One may even dash off into
a splended course of self-denial, thinking in
this way to atone for the evU that wiU not
die. 8. A want of childlike simplicity will
start decay in religion. There is apt to
Jiang around the soul a vast number of

148 Christ and his Religion.
fictitious appendages. The veritable man is
hidden from view. He is buried beneath
conventionalisms, forms of Hfe, and a glare
of appearances. Pure religion needs no art
to decorate it. Holiness can not be made
more beautiful than it is. Truth can not
be improved. To be a man, one must be
a chUd. The most gifted natures are dis
tinguished for simplicity.
9. ReHgion declines when pure feehngs are
not acted out. When I feel that I ought to
speak for God, be more benevolent, more
circumspect in my dealings, and do not lis
ten to the feeling, I harden the heart. If
the great duties of the Christian Hfe are
pressed upon my attention, and I heed not
the emotions that are awakened, I of ne
cessity dampen and deaden the emotional
nature. There is pleasure in mere feeling;
and there is danger on that account that
one wUl rest in it. If the church can be
turned into a theatre, the pulpit into a stage,
the minister into an acter, and the soul be
thrilled by his words, aU is well. Yea, if
the feelings languish, and the accustomed
ministration is not sufficient to move them,
then a method that is . startling and exciting

Decay in Religion. 149
must be adopted. But what is all this but
the Play of Death.
10. Sin viewed as enmity is the chief pow
er that causes decay in religion. All the
points that have been mentioned find their
source in the maHce that stiU Hngers in the
regenerate heart. " As every drop of poi
son is poison, and wUl infect, and every
spark of fire is fire, and wiU burn; so the
last and least particle of sin is enmity." It
is because of this hating element that the
good man feels partly disinclined to do his
duty. II. Decay in Religion from Errors of
the Mind.
1. Decay in religion may be the result
of misguided mental enthusiasm. A glow
of pleasure may animate the understanding
while engaged in close and consecutive think
ing; but there is a want of balance. Truths
of great moment are struck off, attracting the
mind by the grandeur of their appearance,
but alongside of them are errors fraught with
evil. Still the errors are not seen. They
have a certain clothing of majesty as if they
were the children of light, and are listened

150 Christ and his Religion.
to as if they were the voices of God. There
is no diminution of force as the heated in
tellect keeps at its work; yet there is a
principle of decay eating into the moral na
ture. "When a large class of men," remarks
Isaac Taylor, "is professionally devoted to
the study of theology, there wiU not be
wanting some whose mental conformation
impels them to abandon the modest path
of exposition, and to seek, within the pre
cincts of religion, for the gratifications that
accompany abstruse speculation, discovery,
invention, exaggeration, and paradox. All
these pleasures of a morbid or misdirected
intellectual activity may be obtained in the
regions of theology, not less than in those
of mathematical and physical science, if once
the restraints of a reHgious and heartfelt
reverence for the authority of the word of
God are discarded. The principal heresies
that have disturbed the Church may, no
doubt, fairly be attributed to motives spring
ing from the pride or perverse dispositions
of the human heart; but often a mere in
tellectual enthusiasm has been the real source
of false doctrine." *
* "Natural Hist, of Enthusiasm," p. 82.

Decay in Religion. 151
2. The influence of false phUosophy tends
to weaken the religious nature. There are
few men who are able to view Christianity
as it stands forth in its own divine single
ness. They do not place the mind right in
front of it, that that mind may be quickened
by its full power. Commonly through some
medium is the reHgion of Christ reached.
We explain its doctrines by the aid of a
particular system of metaphysics, and its
commands by a particular system of ethics.
No sooner had Christianity spread itself
among the nations than the philosophies of
heathenism rushed forward to corrupt it.
The speculations about matter, mind, and
God, were mixed up with Christian truth;
so that speedily the religion of the New
Testament was changed into another form,
— half heathenism and half Christianity. It
was next to impossible to find a person who
had the pure religion of apostolic men.
3. When the soul loves the piety of ab
stract thinking, rather than the piety of
moral action, there is a principle of decay
at work. There are minds which desire to
revel in a region of solitude where all is
quiet, and where the urgent necessities of

i52- Christ and his Religion.
life press not upon souls. It is not labor
that pleases, but communion with thoughts
of a certain order, losing one's self in the
great abysses of being, breaking away as it
were from matter and time. This mystical
form of piety is seen in all ages. Especially
is it seen during periods of strife and for
malism. At such times the pensive spirit,
weary of life, sinks into itself; hoping there
to meet the good that it wants. Such a
religion is one-sided. It is pale by reason
of its seclusion and want of action. It re
minds us more of the Hindoo contemplatist,
than of the Christian soldier.
4. Reverence for things that are second
ary, with no sufficient reverence for things
of superior moment, generates decay. The
history of the Church of the first centuries
shows how reHgion was corrupted by undue
attachment to secondary objects. The mar
tyrs were honored above reason and above
Scripture; and so there arose the adoration
of relics, of idols, and of saints; the infinite
God not receiving that worship that was
due unto his name. A mystical and re
demptive power was attached to the Chris
tian sacraments; so that men approached

Decay in Religion. 153
them as they approach the Most High.
Thus their beautiful simplicity was lost. A
class of artificial virtues soon appeared, and
new sins troubled the consciences of men.
An ascetic Hfe was placed upon a level
with the life of the angels, and the com
mon tribe of disciples had to enter heaven
by a less royal way. The laws and tradi
tions of men were kept with greater strict
ness than the commands and teachings of
God. A kind of human and materiaHzed
piety prevaUed. The reHgious nature was
in this way perverted; its strength was
drawn off, and sent along subordinate chan
nels. 5. A diplomatic form of piety weakens
the Christian emotions. There is such a
thing as tact and good judgment. These
are to be used in well-doing. A bhnd
goodness is wickedness. The want of dis
cretion is sin. StiU the religion of diplo
macy is not the religion of Christ. There
is something of the earthly about it. The
Jesuitical form of piety and the diplomatic,
are of the same parentage. An attempt
is made to extend the kingdom of Christ
as men extend other kingdoms; namely, by

154 Christ and his Religion.
expediency and compromise. Sin is not
viewed as so dark and holiness not as so
bright, as they are in themselves. Good
and evil are brought closer together by
this means, and are made to treat each
other with a degree of respect. The relig
ious mind is thus contaminated. It is Chris
tian and anti-Christian at the same time.
Evils that were at first condemned, are af
terwards winked at, then finally approved.
There was not sufficient moral power to
overcome the evUs; and so, turning neces
sity into a virtue, they were pronounced
to be good. In this way the world gains
upon the Church, and in this way the dip
lomatic disciple sinks into the world.
When religion is popular and fashionable
it declines. We are apt to think that when
the bark of God is pressing ahead with flying
colors, full sails, and every state-room occu
pied with gleeful people, that then aU is
prosperous. Great mistake. The Church
and the world are two distinct companies.
Christianity is popular in heaven. But upon
this earth, where the whole race are lost,
the religion of the Sinless One can not be
popular. A religion that is fashionable is

Decay in Religion. 155
not a well -fashioned reHgion. If Satan is
pleased with me, God is displeased.
6. When unconverted men are aUowed to
connect themselves with the Church, piety
languishes. It certainly is a fact that Chris
tianity during the early centuries went into
an echpse, and continued in that echpse
for more than a thousand years, because
crowds of the unconverted became members
of the Church. Such men are viewed as pi
ous when they have no piety. Their influ
ence, therefore, deceives and destroys. The
good follow them as if they were good.
Their practices are adopted; their opinions
are praised; their pleasures find favor with
unsuspecting souls. In a season not long
the scale of piety sinks. Worldliness gains
friends, and the friends of God become
worldly. A pleasant formalism takes the
place of reHgion. Men join the Church
with faith in a creed, but with no faith in
Christ. If they possess a few of the virtues
of nature, these are accepted for the graces
of the Spirit. The result of all this is, that
men outside of the Church despise it, and
men inside pull it down. The great enemy
of the Church is the Church. Professed fol-

156 Christ and his Religion.
lowers of Christ are writing against Chris
tianity. The Bible to them is too large, the
supernatural too common, the atonement too
painful, the sinful state of man too sinful,
the way to heaven too difficult, the punish
ment of the wicked too long. That reHgion
is blighted by such a state of things can not
be denied. Although unconverted men will
find their way into the Church, even when
those who guard its portals are thc^anost
careful, no premium should be offered to
tempt them thus to come. A smaller and
purer Church will exert a far better influ
ence on society, than one that is larger and
more corrupt. Nothing succeeds, in the long
run, like holiness. The Christianity of ap
pearance covers a great surface and counts
a great number; while the Christianity of
reality is Hmited, yet strong with the strength
of God.
III. Decay in Religion from a deceived
Conscience. " Many species of the genus Mantis," says
the Duke of Argyle, "are wholly modelled
in the form of vegetable growths. The legs
are made to imitate leaf-stalks, the body is

Decay in Religion. 157
elongated and notched so as to simulate a
twig; the segment of the shoulders is spread
out and flattened in the likeness of a seed-
vessel; and the large wings are exact imita-i
tions of a full blown leaf, with aU its veins
and skeleton complete, and aU its color and
apparent texture. There is something star
tling and almost horrible in the completeness
of the deception — very horrible it must be
to its hapless victims. It is the habit of
these creatures to sit upon the leaves which
they so closely resemble, apparently motion
less, but reaUy advancing on their prey
with a slow and insensible approach. Their
structure disarms suspicion,"* These insects
make us to think of a deceived conscience.
1. If I am under obligation to perform
certain duties, while as yet I do not know
what these duties are, the want of knowl
edge will cause my conscience to give forth
a wrong decision. Thousands of pious men
are not troubled in the least in regard to
certain sins which they commit, because to
them they are not viewed as sins. Igno
rance, however, can not excuse me if knowl
edge is within my reach. Conscience is nec-
? "Reign of Law," p. 184.

158 Christ and his Religion.
essarUy connected with the intellect; and to
the extent that the judgment is sOuhd the
conscience is sound. There is a vast differ
ence between Christian minds of a former
age and those of the present in regard to
temperance, the toleration of religious opin
ions, personal liberty, and the duty of car
rying the gospel to the heathen. Certain
things are now seen to be evil that were
not seen before, and certain things are now
seen to be good that were not seen before.
2. Natural traits which resemble those that
are spiritual may deceive the conscience.
The excitable Christian may think that he
has more holy vitality than rightly belongs
to him. He may give himself credit for
unction in his prayers and in his speaking,
and others may attribute the same quality
to him, when the chief power at work is
nervousness, along with a certain sweet tone
of voice and a theatric manner. There are
genial characters, persons who wear a sunny
smile and manifest a fine cheerfulness, who
may not allow sufficiently for these traits
when they note down the amount of pure
and heavenly joy. There are men who are
distinguished by nature for gentleness and

Decay in Religion. 159
amiability, who may seem to themselves
hoher than they are. Then we have the
erratic and eccentric species, who take great
liberties in speech and action. They have a
kind of dashing and haphazard method; and
evil is done when they know it not.
3. Prejudice is sure to deceive the moral
faculty. If there be prejudice against cer
tain truths, these truths wiU not be seen as
they are. If one is prejudiced against cer
tain methods of action, certain institutions
of reHgion, certain duties to be done, he will
be sure to form a false judgment. There
may be prejudice also against certain per
sons; and this wiU so influence the mind
that, however nobly they may act, there
will be dissatisfaction with them. Thus a
hating and hateful disposition wUl be culti
vated. It was prejudice which led men to
distort the life of Christ. Prejudice con
demned him, and prejudice naUed him to
the tree.
4. Near relationship may lead us to ap
prove sinful acts in our friends. If the
father of a family is acquiring wealth by
certain questionable speculations, the chu-
dren will be very apt to justify him in the

i6b Christ and his Religion.
course he is pursuing. If we have a relative
who owns a distillery, employs a large num
ber of men, and treats them with great kind
ness, we shall be tempted to uphold him in
his business. If any member of our house
hold is making money by unnecessary labor
on the Sabbath, we wUl be inclined to look
charitably on this breach of God's law.
5. An evil that we condemned when it
first appeared, may be approved when it is
fixed into a habit. FamUiarity with evil
makes it to appear less hateful. While the
bad habit was aUowed to form, a golden
haze spread over it, and conscience was led
astray. The fact that we have permitted
the evil to take possession of the soul and
to hold there a kind of sovereignty, shows
that we have been somewhat favorable to
it. To the rule of the new power, there
fore, we try to submit as gracefuUy as we
can. Things are not as bad as we antici
pated. To make defeat a virtue is now the
effort of the soul. One does not love to
condemn himself in that which he allows.
We therefore take the final step and ap
prove the bad habit. Certain evil customs
in a community may come to be approved

Decay in Religion. 161
in the same way, although at first they were
condemned. If we are thrust into painful
circumstances, and find it hard to escape
from them, the mind shapes itself to these
circumstances, and tries to feel comfortable.
6. The very tenacity with which one clings
to an opinion or form of life may make it
appear right, when in reality it is wrong.
The fixed intention of the mind not to re
consider the matter, the absence of all fear,
and the general satisfaction with our belief
and life, delude the conscience. It would be
a great gain to certain persons if they would
aUow themselves to doubt. The very back
wardness to re-examine the principles that
govern us is suspicious. It would seem as
if we had a distant thought that the ground
we stand on is not quite solid, and so we
assume a decided tone in order to keep the
mind steady. If there be great self-sacri
fice connected with some duty, and we do
not want to perform it, the tendency wUl
be to shut it out with the thought, that
it does not come within the range of our ob
ligation. The unpleasant, however, is very
often the right, while the pleasant is the
wrong. 11

162 Christ and his Religion.
7. Selfishness tends to deceive the con
science. It is next to impossible to find a
man who condemns himself for not being
sufficiently benevolent. Covetousness and
deception are just as sure to go together
as night and darkness. The miser is sure
that he is right, though not a single deed of
love warms his heart. Selfishness will cause
a man to affirm that he has no qualifications
for certain positions; hoping in that way to
escape the labors and responsibilities which
he does not love; wishing also to appear
humble, that thus he may have the credit
of goodness.
8. Presenting a good reason for a course
of action, when a bad reason was the govern
ing one, the conscience is likely to be de
ceived. It very often happens that a num
ber of motives combine their power in order
to lead the will to act. There is a tendency,
therefore, to select the best appearing mo
tive, and present that as the reason for
action; when, as matter of truthfulness, a
vicious motive had the supreme control.
The Pharisees no doubt convinced them
selves that they revered the ancient proph
ets, inasmuch as they repaired and beautified

Decay in Religion. 163
their tombs; and yet they had not the least
sympathy with the Hfe of those godly men.
If a particular sin turns out better than was
expected, the guilty person will quiet his
conscience by looking at this favorable turn
of affairs. Sometimes, by the intervention
of God, heavenly benefits are linked on to
the evil actions of man; and so the trans
gressor being attracted by these, views them
as the fair result of his deeds.
9. Persons may be deceived by following
the first impulse. An impulse at the mo
ment may seem to be right, but when care
fully examined it is found to be wrong. If
the impulse is very exciting, there may be
danger. Excitement may confuse the mind;
things may not be looked at in their en-
tireness; arguments may not be properly
weighed; and so the person is led astray.
The proper way, then, is to wait till the
excitement passes over, that with composure
and carefulness we may look the matter
through and through. Having done this,
we can decide upon the course that is best.
10. A first impulse, however, may be
right, while the cool judgment may be noth
ing but sin. Robert Hall says: "In mat-

1 64 Christ and his Religion.
ters of prudence, last thoughts are best; in
morality, your first thoughts are best." To
let shp a true impulse of conscience, under
the plea that we had better wait, is to be
come both weak and wicked. An excitation
of love may come forth in a moment — point
ing to an act that should be done, or a word
that should be spoken — to follow that is both
wise and good. The first impulse relating to
some great moral questions is quite likely to
be right, because selfish considerations have
had no time to work. Even when the im
pulse is all on fire, we may yet follow its
guidance with the utmost safety. There is
no other way sometimes to perform a great
religious act except Under the influence of
high excitement. The excitement breaks up
the monotony of the soul, sweeps away the
difficulties that lie across our path, urges us
forward; and so we go and do that which
is right. When the question was settled on
Mount Carmel that Jehovah is God, and aU
the people were intensely excited, Elijah just
at that time, himself under excitement, took
the four hundred and fifty false prophets and
put them to death. There is no likehhood
that such a notable act could have been

Decay in Religion. 165
performed at any other time than that time
of excitement.
11. Conscience may be deceived by good
running into evil. The step from one to
the other may not have been noticed. The
spurious act or feeling may be so much
like the true that suspicion is not awak
ened, (a.) The man who is decided may be
come over-bearing. The tendency wiU be
to harshness and severity. It may not be
long before decision ends in stubbornness.
(b.) He who is earnest may become impatient.
If other persons are sluggish, this annoys the
earnest man. He begins to complain and
condemn. The earnestness loses itself in ill-
temper, (c.) Firm confidence may wander
off into spiritual pride. Confidence and cer
tainty go together ; and so when a man sees
that all is sure, he may become emboldened,
highly elated, untU his head swims with
vain glory. The angels of heaven dropped
from faith to pride, (d.) Gentleness may
become weakness. A mild and unobtru
sive character may lack force; and the lack
of force leaves the soul in a state of passiv
ity. The spirit that is gentle may at length
be nothing but organized ease and softness.

166 Christ and his Religion.
(e.) Contentment need not go far before it
reaches indifference. He who is troubled
about nothing may very soon care about
nothing. Care must be taken lest content
ment be simply sanctified dullness. (/.) A
long-suffering disposition may eat out bold
ness. There is a time for justice as well as
for mercy. Long suffering may be long sin
ning. He who wiU not take sides with right,
because of tenderness, has already taken sides
with wrong, (jg'.) Caution may become timid
ity. Caution wants to risk nothing; but he
who risks not gains not. I must not be
rash; but if I halt, when I ought to hasten,
I sin. (h.) Boldness may plunge headlong
into rashness. The impetuosity of courage
may so hurry the mind along that neither
dangers nor difficulties are sufficiently con
sidered. The bold words may lack judg
ment, and the measures adopted may lack
wisdom.

CHAPTER VIII.
MEANS TO ARREST DECAY IN THE RELIGION OF
CHRIST.
T I ""HERE is an indirect as weU as a direct
method of arresting decay in reHgion.
In order to thoroughness of restoration, both
methods must be adopted.
I. A View of the Piety of the early
Christians a Means to arrest Decay in
Religion. "The device upon Whitefield's seal was a
winged heart soaring above the globe; and
its motto was, ' Astra petamus '—Let us seek
heaven." The early Christians were men of
the winged heart. The very sight of them
inspires us. An arrest is laid upon our sin
by their presence. We approach the like
ness of the object we are contemplating.
Their religion was love. The love seemed
Hke a new production; as if it had come
from a new world. It^was not that of race

168 Christ and his Religion.
or sect; not that of a mere sentiment, ap
pearing in beauty for a day, and then at
the close of it disappearing forever. It was
a veritable power, burning with an energy
Like that of the sun, sending forth Hght and
neat at the same instant of time. The love
nad aU the qualities of a divine affection.
It was wise and discriminating, self-sacrific
ing and constant, free and pure. To the
lost it was a friend, and to the friend it
was a brother. The Creator by it was
adored, the Saviour by it was trusted.
Its strength did not depart in tears. If it
lamented, it also labored. No more beau
tiful sight has ever appeared than the early
community of Christ, cemented and hallowed
by love. The affection took its rounded form
as it were at once. It was clear as a moun
tain stream, and glad as the breeze of sum
mer. Distance and coldness, calculation and
shrewdness, do not appear in it. It is a sin
gle glory as that of a star. It is one of the
rays of God. There is a certain sweet ve
hemence about the love; a kind of celestial
freshness; nothing stereotyped; the whole
natural and easy. We think of spring on
a beautiful day. Trees of righteousness are

Means to Arrest Decay. 169
covered -with buds and blossoms. There is
no wild manifestation. The life is not ec
centric. It does not shoot forth and then
rest; does not ebb and flow. The love is so
normal looking that one is drawn towards it.
The actions come in their time even as the
moments and hours come. There is a certain
originality about the experience which arrests
the attention. The tide of love never rose so
high before. It forms an epoch in history.
In the piety of the first Christians we no
tice an element of simplicity. There is a
childlike spirit. Mere extrinsic glitter does
not dazzle the eye. There is nothing tawdry
and gairish. . There is no attempt to produce
a sensation. Many things that are common
to other men are not seen in the early dis
ciples of Jesus. The great central passion
has burned up that which was superfluous,
and left the character in a state of simphcity.
We behold a species of holy condensation.
A refining process has been at work. The
aUoy has been expeUed. We gaze upon the
simple pure article by itself, and are not
startled by a multiform and showy great
ness. A divine reduction has given to us
the reality, and we are satisfied with it.

170 Christ and his Religion.
There is consequently a simplicity of heart,
of manner, and of action. Not a single phase
of the Jesuitical spirit is seen in those first
foUowers of Christ. They stand forth as Is-
raehtes indeed in whom there is no guile.
They can not change virtues for sins and
sins for virtues, in order to meet circum
stances. The plotting and the underhanded
do not characterize them. They were fine
Christians; but had not the qualities to make
fine pohticians. Indeed, considering that so
many of those people were converted Jews,
we wonder why they had so much simplicity
and so Httle cunning. Their divine lineage
was more distinctly marked than their hu
man. There was a plainness about them
that looked Hke truth, and a sincerity that
looked like righteousness.
The first disciples had & firm persuasion of
the truth of Christianity. They were not
governed by mere speculation; not led for
ward by the mere force of an opinion; but
they stand in the presence of unmistakable
facts, or in the presence of eternal ideas that
had entered into time. They consequently
act out of a consciousness that is sure and
weU defined. They arrest attention by this

Means to Arrest Decay. 171
very fact of certainty. They break into frag
ments every false system and every false
character by the simple blow of truth. The
great chiefs of Christianity were men of un-
' doubted faith, and so they communicated
their spirit to others. The reign of belief
in this way spread. Christians seemed to
speak with authority; their voice seemed
Hke the voice of God. AU classes were told
that "there is none other name under heaven
given among men, whereby they could be
saved," but the name of Jesus. This set-
tied conviction in regard to the truth of
Christianity was power itself. It not only
conquered opposition, but it made the fol
lowers of Christ to feel that their religious
experience was a reality. Thus objectively
and subjectively Christianity was to them
certain. They exemplified the fact of unity with
singular perfection. One thought possessed
them; one feeling moved them; one purpose
governed them. There was no mere out
ward uniformity thrust upon their attention,
which they were compelled to adopt. The
union came out of their soul, and expressed
the spiritual state of the soul. They had

172 Christ and his Religion.
such strength and purity of love that any
thing else but oneness seemed to be a moral
impossibility. It was not the pride of an
order that held them together; not the sense
of consistency; not the sense of duty. They
were a real brotherhood of men; the only
true brotherhood that had ever appeared.
Persons talk about the cosmopolitan spirit;
talk about unity, fraternity, Hberty; not
knowing that the first Church of Jerusa
lem iUustrated these characteristics eighteen
hundred years ago. Those noble people
had simply one aim in Hfe. They were
gifted with the single eye. Power, there
fore, was concentrated, and brought to a
point. Nothing was wasted; there was no
friction. They were a compact body filled
with the Spirit; living for God; blessing men.
Their Christianity was not a mere passive
and contemplative form of life. Its field of
effort was not the desert, the cave, or the
sohtary human spirit. When the first Chris
tians were persecuted, " they went every
where preaching the gospel." Religion with
them was whole-souled. Its law was action,
its nature benevolence, its sphere the world.
They showed also great steadfastness of

Means to Arrest Decay. 173
character and principle. There is a kind
of theoretic steadfastness which one may
have when all is pleasant. Soldiers during
a time of peace arrange a mock battle.
They fight bravely. But among aU the vic
tors not one is wounded, and among aU the
vanquished not one is slain. The Chris
tianity of early times had to be reahstic.
It needed the utmost force and vitality.
Evil was aroused, was alarmed, its empire
was in danger. An attempt was made to
overcome the new religion. To overcome
it was impossible. There was an obduracy
of principle that could not be conquered.
He who is lost in God is never defeated.
Both heathen and Jew were alike aston
ished, were alike maddened. The new su
perstition could not be reasoned with; the
new moral malady could not be cured: there
was no other way but death for the danger
ous men. And yet even death itself failed;
Christianity would not die. TertuUian, ad
dressing the persecutors, says: " AU your
refinements of cruelty can accomphsh noth
ing; on the contrary, they serve as a lure
to this sect. Our number increases, the
more you destroy us. The blood of the

174 Christ and his Religion.
Christians is the seed of a new harvest.
Your philosophers, who exhort to the en
durance of pain and death, make fewer dis
ciples by their words, than the Christians by
their deeds. That obstinacy, for which you
reproach us, is a preceptor. For who that
beholds it, is not impelled to inquire into the
cause? And who, when he has inquired,
does not embrace it; and when he has em
braced it, does not himself wish to suffer
for it?"*
A striking peculiarity of the early Chris
tians was their Christly mind. Of course
every disciple of Jesus has this characteris
tic to a greater or less extent. But the
primitive Christians had it in a marked
manner. Many of them had lived during
the Hfetime of the Saviour. They had
seen him, heard him speak, and were cog
nizant of the wonderful works which he per
formed. He had impressed them as no one
ever could impress them. He was to them
"God manifest in the flesh." His image was
reproduced in their souls. AU that was
dear to them in time and eternity was cen
tered in. him. He alone was their Saviour.
* Neander, "Church Hist.," vol i., p. 77.

Means to Arrest Decay. 175
His mysterious sorrow, agony, death, were
remembered by them with tender affection.
The fact that he rose from the dead, that
he ascended into the heavens, could not be
forgotten. He was the joy of their heart;
the wonderful stranger who tarried with
them for a season; the only kingly soul
that they had ever seen, and whose glory
lingered around them after he went away.
Even those who had not beheld him, yet
conversed with men who had. They were
carefully taught in regard to his person
and life. No doubt many a long evening
was spent in listening to words he had
spoken, and in hearing about the works he
had done. Crowds met together on Sab
bath and week day to catch the story of
his life. No such Presence ever touched
the souls of men before. Christ seemed to
be in every dwelling of the faithful. His
praises fell on the ear of friend and foe.
There was no language but that spoke his
name. He was a new thought in the great
world of man. The night gave place to
the day, and the gloomy empire of death
was lost in the endless life.
The first Christians were cheerful in the

176 Christ and his Religion.
service of Christ. Their sky was clear. It
was the early morning of their joy. In
gladness the hours passed. In hope the
noonday of heaven drew near. The sad
ness of other ages of the Church was not
known among the first disciples of our
Lord. They had a pleasure in piety which
we have only seen occasionally; a peace
which we know only at second-hand. At
the very beginning "they received the word
with gladness"; and so they went forward
in the midst of happy emotions. It would
seem as if a new cycle of supernatural
power began at that time, and as if their
souls received a great quickening from the
Spirit of the Lord. "The disciples," we
are told, "were filled with joy, and with
the Holy Ghost." The whole range of
Christian action gave evidence of life that
had come from God, and of a certain sweet
ness and peace that were the result of it.
The most common duties were hallowed
by a new power: nothing was so small but
that joy could smile around it. Those fa
vored people could "eat their meat with
gladness": they could serve or sleep with
a heavenly serenity about their souls.

Means to Arrest Decay. 177
They were reaUy a singular race of men;
peculiar because of their saintliness. Their
history all the way through would constitute
an exceedingly interesting Pilgrim's Progress.
" One might see them walking Hke so many
pieces of immortality, dropping down from
heaven, and tending thitherward; aU full of
God, and full of Christ, and full of heaven,
and full of glory: and this world was noth
ing to them; trampled upon as a despicable,
contemptible thing." * Their journey to the
celestial city would not have the rural feat
ures about it which Bunyan's allegory pre
sents. More of the city and town Hfe
would appear. A greater variety of charac
ters would be seen along the way. The stir
would be more intense, the temptations more
numerous, the solitude not so deep. There
would be seas also for the pilgrims to cross,
and strange countries for them to enter.
The commotion created by their appearance
and manner would even be greater than in
Bunyan's time. There would not be a soli
tary martyr as at Vanity Fair; but in Jeru
salem and Rome many would die as wit
nesses for Christ. Some of the cities through
John Howe's "Works," vol. i., p. 580.
12

178 Christ and his Religion.
which the early pilgrims passed were noted
for wisdom and wickedness. The town of
Works was a busy place. Ladders were
made there what would reach to heaven.
There was a divine city called Jehovah Sham-
mah, where the pilgrims dwelt for many
days. It was near the end of the journey.
They spent their time there with peaceful
ness. The country of God was just before
them. They crossed the river of Death with
joy. The sun shone upon them aU the way.
Without attempting to specify aU the spir
itual traits of the first Christians, we may
rest where we are, and simply add a few
observations that are critical in their nature.
I suppose we have a right to say that the
primitive Christianity was of a high type. In
certain particulars, we may affirm that it has
never been equaUed. The golden age was
at the beginning. In aU succeeding centuries,
men wUl look back upon a form of life that
they have never seen elsewhere. They wUl
sigh as they think of the early time, and wiU
wonder why the former beauty shines not in
any soul just now. It is a pleasure to them
to regale their imagination with a sight that
is so fair; the heavenly image they would

Means to Arrest Decay. 179
Hke to make their own as the years run by.
The model life which they would hold up be
fore all the generations, is that of the first
Christians. To bring the Church back to the
primitive piety would be very much like re
storing the lost Paradise. There is one ex
treme of making the early Christians better
than they were, and another extreme of mak
ing them worse than they were. The point
is to find the exact truth.
In looking through the New Testament,
we notice that the actual and the ideal re
ligion is each described, and that very fre
quently the one runs into the other. Some
times in a chapter, referring mainly to the
common life of the Christians, wiU be found
a verse that pictures out the ideal religion
with great beauty; and the danger is, that
those very Christians will be viewed as pos
sessing that ideal religion, — thus making
them to be more holy than they actually
were. Especially are we in danger when
thinking of the inspired men who wrote the
New Testament. We may very easily view
them as quite angelic in their piety, just be
cause of the ideal religion which they men
tion here and there. We are always tempted

180 Christ and his Religion.
to clothe a writer or speaker with those holy
quahties which he simply describes ideaUy.
Thoughts are found in many sermons and
many hymns that are instinct with seraphic
beauty and perfection; and an uncritical
person may be led to say that the writers
of them were saintly men of a high order.
Vast numbers, no doubt, have thus received
a character, which never would bear the
test of an actual examination. It is not
that the writers intended to deceive. The
thought was not in their mind to do that.
They simply presented a finished conception;
and unskilled persons supposed that that
finished conception was a real gem that
sparkled in their character. In descriptive
writing especially, which relates to an ob
ject we love, the imagination with its fine
ideals is very apt to do a great work at
painting. We must see to it, then, that
we find the actual truth in regard to the
early Christians; not aUowing any ideal glory
to cover them with its celestial radiance.
Even the common usage of language we
must scrutinize carefully, lest a mere popu
lar statement should be viewed as contain
ing more than it reaUy does contain.

Means to Arrest Decay. 181
It may have been a gain, and yet it may
not, that the early Christians had no past in
the religion they had adopted, to which they
could look. It may be a blessed thing to,
be at the fountain-head, and to drink out of
the rill that flows forth from the mountain's
base; stiU there are many advantages in liv
ing upon the bank of a wide and deep river,
far from its source; many advantages in com
merce and wealth from the ships that trade
at its ports. It is certainly a fact that we
learn a great deal from the past. Its rich
heritage comes down to us, and our present
is enlarged because of it. It is an infinite
gain to us that we can look back upon the
achievements of Christianity during a period
of eighteen centuries. Providence in the in
terest of the Christian religion is quite lumin
ous, the administration of the Spirit is full
of Hfe and power, and the revelation of God
to man is complete in the Bible. It would
seem as if we had the means for a more ex
tended type of piety than the early Chris
tians had. There was about them a certain
want of experience in many important things.
There was a degree of immaturity that arose
from their childhood state. Thev were in

1 82 Christ and his Religion.
danger of being captivated by fair appear
ances. They were not sufficiently search
ing. Their faith might lead to credulity.
There was weakness in connection with their
strength. Germs of evil were ready to spring
up by the side of their goodness.
Although they were a spiritually minded
people, yet it is a question whether they
were absolutely settled upon an extended
basis of theologic truth. Was not the mould
in which they were cast too Hmited, even
though it was well finished as far as it went?
Would not a greater range of thought have
been to their advantage ? Did they have a
sufficient amount of individuahsm ? Did all
their faculties act with sufficient force, and
was there a proper balance among them?
We are to take into the account also that
they Hved during a great revival period. Hun
dreds and thousands were converted at once.
It was the flood-tide of God's mercy to man.
Possibly the waters of life never rose so high
as at that time. The barks of Christ has
tened forward with fuU sail and a fair wind.
There was much that was visible. The good
people could see and hear. The sense ele
ment was a notable feature. There were

Means to Arrest Decay. 183
the gift of tongues and the various miracles.
There was not merely a walking by faith,
but a walking by sight. Taking these things
into consideration, we are led to form a prop
er judgment touching the piety of the early
Christians; making it not too bright, but still
viewing it as of a very high order. We may
well be stimulated by it, seeing by the con
trast our earthliness and want of holy power.
Yea, the Christian in a state of decline may
even feel alarmed, when he beholds the force
and the fervor of those first chUdren of the
Church. II. Direct Method of arresting Decay
in Religion.
Thou great Being! make us like thyself.
Thou only art real. All about us is Ulusion.
We find no rest. We wander from object
to object, but nothing pleases. Our very
dreams tell of the waning of our soul. We
sink into the bosom of sleep with a sigh,
and awake in the morning with the same
burden pressing us down. Never are we
quite weU. Our sunniest hours have back
of them a cloud. A thorn seems to be in
the centre of our heart, and death struggles

1 84 Christ and his Religion.
along the pathway of our life. Thou High
and Lofty One ! how much we need thee.
Intervene in our behalf. Let thy smUe ban
ish our darkness, and thy breathing scatter
our sin. Only when we are one with thee
shall we be happy. Thou art the fountain
of goodness. Blessedness dwells with thee.
How wondrous thy years ! No shadow of
evil about thee ! Only light and love ! May
some power touch us that will make us true
and pure. We turn to thee. In exile we
have wandered far and long. Only with
thee can we feel well. Thou will not spurn
us away. Why should we hold back? We
take thee as our portion. In the midst of
thy day shall we abide. Thy radiance shall
gUd our path, and the hours shaU be Ml
of joy because thou art near. Glorious
One! the whole universe looks to thee.
When thou hidest thyself there is trouble.
Nothing can rest save as it rests in thee.
If we seek for truth, thou art the True; for
goodness, thou art the Good; for perfection,
thou art the Perfect. Most ineffable Being !
we can not describe thee. Only a few of
thy words have reached us; a few of thy
rays have streamed across our path; thy

Means to Arrest Decay. 185
footsteps are echoing through the great si
lence, and thy beauty is painted on the
flowers and skies of life. Thou art the
ocean that has no storms, the land that is
always fair, the river that flows in peace
fulness through the smiHng fields of love.
It is weU to think of the bright past. This
vision of other days may give the soul a new
impulse. One can see how he has fallen.
The sin appears the darker when contrasted
with the holiness. As scene after scene is
called up, when the soul was happy in God's
service, there is a desire to begin a new life.
Simply to mention over to a friend the sea
son of our conversion; the number of per
sons who gave themselves to Christ at that
time; the activity of Christian people; the
solemn and searching preaching; the meet
ings so quiet and so crowded, — just to note
these things warms the heart. " There is
no more effectual means," says John Owen,
" to stir up backsliders unto endeavors for
deliverance than a continual remembrance
of former things, and experiences they have
had of holy intercourse and communion with
God. This wiU revive, quicken, and strength
en the things that are ready to die, and

1 86 Christ and his Religion.
beget a self-abhorrency in them in consid
eration of that woeful frame and temper of
mind which, by their sins and negligence,
they have brought themselves into." " I
have known one in the depths of distress
and darkness of mind, who, going through
temptation to destroy himself, was relieved
and dehvered in the instant of ruin by a
sudden remembrance that at such a time,
and in such a place, he had prayed fervent
ly with the engagement of all his affections
unto God."*
A vivid conception of truth is also an im
portant means of leading the soul into a
higher Hfe. The intellect and heart are
closely connected together. If I would bring
myself into a proper moral state, as far as I
am able, there are three things that are nec
essary. 1. I must have a suitable object
before the mind. 2. I must have a vivid
conception of that object. 3. I must act
out the feeling that is generated by this
vivid conception. The central and moving
power is to feel. I must set the imagina
tion to work, and make the whole matter as
real as possible; then emotion wiUbe started.
* "Works," vol. vii., pp. 465, 466.

Means to Arrest Decay. 187
Let a mother behold her children in a house
on fire; and she will be carried away with a
tempest of feeling, and wiU do her utmost to
save them. If she were sound asleep, she
would neither feel nor act. Let any one
witness the coUision of two trains of cars;
see the wounded, dying, and dead; hear
the cries of suffering people as they beg for
help, — there wiU be no want of feeHng.
" Agitate the soul in any way, excite its
fears, hopes, or any of the passions, and
then instantly, and just in proportion to the
excitement, wul the mind lose its conscious
ness of aU but the single exciting object.
Show a man the muzzle of a loaded cannon,
peeping from a thicket in the distance, and
whence he may every moment expect his
death; show him, on the broad bosom of
a tumbling sea, an open boat, in which his
wife and children are tossing, between hope
and despair, and what else will he see ! "
Christian men are palsied with indiffer
ence, because they do not face the truth in
aU its roundness. They do not compel them
selves to think about it. No full impression
is made upon their soul. They think in frag
ments, and feel in fragments. If for one

1 88 Christ and his Religion.
hour they would look into the great reah
ties of human life and the destinies beyond,
they could not help but feel intensely. A
single great utterance that strikes the soul
like a voice from heaven, produces a won
derful effect. The more real I can make
any truth, the more power it has. That
which ennobles a man is the noble thoughts
which he has. There is a mastering power
in great ideas. They grasp the soul, hold
it steady, send Hfe through it. A great in
tellectual awakening is the usual precursor
of a spiritual awakening. The flame of prim
itive Christianity was kindled by the impe
rial thoughts of God and Christ. The herald
of the Reformation was truth. Methodism
was ushered into existence by the power of
divine ideas. The great missionary move
ment commenced when light touched the
souls of the good. Even upon the low
plane of humanitarianism, men are aroused
by a vivid conception of the truth which
belongs to that sphere. When the people
are stimulated in regard to national integ
rity, it is evident that they have been think
ing about that matter. Perhaps in no or
ganization of man has close and continued

Means to Arrest Decay. 189
thought done so much as in the organiza
tion of the Jesuits. Their "spiritual exer
cises," hour after hour, day after day, for
weeks, turn out a race of sharp, devoted,
and most determined men. If intense think
ing has done so much to mould and mar
shal into Hne the followers of Loyola, how
much more should intense thinking mould
and marshal into Hne the foUowers of Christ.
Let truth be comprehensive, let it be weU
balanced, let it flash upon the soul with its
own eternal Hght, then it will surely affect
the heart, mind, and conscience, in a healthy
manner. If the law of God in its length
and breadth were more correctly studied
by the disciples of Jesus, they would be a
finer and more finished race of men than
they have thus far been. The delusions of
the moral faculty, the errors of the intellect,
and many sins of the heart, are the result
of imperfect views of divine truth.
In ancient times there was a race in the
evening, at which the runners carried torches
or lamps; and these were lighted at the sac
rificial altar. Not only had the men to run,
but they had to use great care and skill lest
the Hght should be extinguished. If the

ioo Christ and his Religion.
lamps went out, the prize was lost. So the
Christian must run, and he must exercise a
sound judgment at the same time. He must
be in haste, but not self-confident; must run,
but not in pride. GeneraUy speaking, how
ever, the faster the Christian runs, the bright
er his lamp burns. Only the indolent are
left in darkness; only the indolent lose the
prize. If decay in reHgion is to be arrested, we
must act very much as we did act when
we began the Christian life. We must pass
through the same stages of experience. The
way the sinner takes before he can find peace
and purity, is the way that we must take be
fore we can find them. The initial point is
to be aroused, startled out of our sleep. The
sense of danger may sound the alarm. The
possibility of losing the soul may strike it
with terror. A new unhappiness may agitate
our whole being. There is a sense of sin.
Indeed, it would seem as if our feeling in
regard to sin must be more deep and pun
gent than when we first repented. We have
had a new experience of its evU ; have seen
how it has battled with goodness in the heart;
have looked at it through the medium of a

Means to Arrest Decay. 191
brighter Hght than we formerly had, — thus
understanding it better, we have a deeper
conviction. Possibly one reason why we
have such feebleness in our Christianity, is
because we have such feebleness in our views
of sin. A profound consciousness of moral
evil wiU lead us to prize highly the divine
method of redemption. The Christian who
takes a lame view of sin will be a cripple aU
his days. It is aU-important that when we
return to God we should have a deep feel
ing of guUt. This wiU lead us to abhor sin,
and to turn from it. The penitent Christian
also feels the need of redemption more than
ever, and so he renewedly gives himself away
to Christ. Thus the chief features of the
early experience are reproduced. The child
of God is awakened, he is convicted, he re
pents, he believes. In fact aU these charac
teristics appear during every great crisis
and onward movement of the Christian life.
Even at the moment of death, when reason
is clear, there wUl be a new awakening, a
new conviction, a new repentance, and a
new faith.
In order to keep my Christianity at the
point which it has now reached, I must cul-

192 Christ and his Religion.
tivate the power to receive. My entire soul
must be thrown open to that which is pure.
A receptive mind lies at the foundation of
a holy character. Christ pronounced those
blessed who were poor in spirit. Influences
of goodness come up to my soul: I must
give them free and happy admission. Many
a saintly word falls upon my ear: I must
listen to it. Here are biographical sketches
of most exceUent men: I must allow the in
fluence of their life to reach my heart. Fine
characters I see every day: I must be made
better by them. There is Christ! What a
world of goodness streams forth from him !
I must surely become more holy on account
of it. There is God ! What a power he is !
It would seem as if he must transform the
soul. There is the Spirit ! How I must re
ceive that saving influence which he brings
to me, or be lost forever.
I am to cultivate also the power to form.
This power to form is very extended. The
works of God in all their infinite variety are
manifestations of his forming power. Even
man, faUen though he be, is a great former.
In architecture, painting, sculpture, useful
inventions, Hterary productions, the bright

Means to Arrest Decay. 193
ideals of the mind, we behold the forming
power. Chiefly, however, in the sphere of
piety, I am to form. If I can form a
thought that will strengthen the soul in
goodness, I have done that which is praise
worthy. If I can form a single grace like
humihty or patience, tenderness or temper
ance, I have done that which wiU tell upon
the eternal weU-being of the soul. Power
to form a character is far greater than power
to buUd the pyramids. And if I can form
other souls besides my own, prepare them
for an eternity at God's right hand, that is
heavenly work. If I can form a hymn, a
tract, a book, that wUl Hve for ages, bless
ing human spirits all that time, I have done
that which angels might covet to do. Even
if I can not go as far as this, but yet can
form a prayer that wiU enter into the ear
of God, can form a sentence that will honor
the Saviour, can form a purpose that wiU
steady the soul in the midst of the turmoU
of evil — just that will be a power in good
ness. Sin must be hindered in some way or
another by the formative abflity of the Chris
tian mind. If I cease to form I cease to
live. 13

194 Christ and his Religion.
By such means decay in piety is arrested.
There is health and activity. The reformed
Christian is ready for every good work. The
life which he Hves shows that he is changed.
He feels humbled in view of the past. He
carries about with him a deep sense of un-
worthiness. He is watchful and circumspect.
He has had a sufficient experience of his own
weakness; he therefore depends more com
pletely on the Infinite Strength. If some
leading sin carried him away while in a
state of declension, the reaction is so great
that it wiU never be committed again. He
is an entirely new man since that terrible
faU. One almost thinks that God permitted
him to make a plunge, that he might rise
the higher afterwards. Peter was a nobler
man after his denial of Christ than he was
before. In whatever relation the revived disci
ple now stands, principle is set to work
in that relation. He can not be bought,
can not be sold, neither does he attempt to
buy and seU other men. He is a man among
men; quite above the common run; near
to the great verities of life; on his way to
the city of the angels; happy only in prin-

Means to Arrest Decay. 195
ciple, and sad when he fails. He gives en
couragement to no practice that is contrary
to the gospel of Christ. He sees that what
aU men want, more than any thing else, is
principle. Let this be found in business, in
courts of law and conventions, in schools
and legislatures, in every heart of child and
man, then there wiU be prosperity. It is
not money, but principle; not honor, but
principle; not pleasure, but principle. When
principle fiUs each office, each calling in Hfe,
is the inmate of every house and every heart,
then joy wiU smile like the skies of heaven,
and peace will reign over the untroubled
years of time. Seest thou a man with prin
ciple ? — he shaU stand before the great with
humUity, and before the humble with great
ness. His steps shaU not falter in all his
journey; strong shaU he be with strength
that never dies; and with hope beckoning
him onward, he shaU be happy in aU the
sweep of his years. His eye- shall not be
dim through aU the length of his way, nei
ther shaU his mind be left in darkness; for
the golden sun shaU pour his radiance into
it, and there shaU be Hght and gladness
through the ceaseless beat of the hours.

196 Christ and his Religion.
The working week shaU be like the Sab
bath, and the Sabbath like the rest of the
angels. The labor shall flow on with love
as if it were one of the hymns of God, and
the very beating of the heart shaU be a
prayer that brings down blessings upon
souls. We can never be poor if we have princi
ple; never ignorant if we have it: it forms
the chief wealth and the chief wisdom. We
never can be in solitude if we have it, for
it is one of the best friends of God; neither
can we be unhappy, for it is blessedness
itself. Try as we may, we shall never be
weU without principle. Nothing can ever
take its place. If we seem to succeed by
something else, it is only a gilded deception.
We may be cheated for a moment, but the
end is death. Principle never fans. It is
the only thing that makes heaven. God
would not be God if he did not have it.
Our real value is shown by our principle;
and we are worth neither more nor less
than that.

CHAPTER IX.
LAWS OF PROGRESS IN THE RELIGION OF CHRIST.
r~PHE first law of progress points to the
fact that religion is carried forward
through the medium of groups. The relig
ious germ is complex. If I say that piety
consists in love to God, that does not imply
that it is confined to one feeling. The love
includes within itself a number of spiritual
forces and tendencies. If I say that the
essence of piety is pure obedience, that is
equally comprehensive. If I call it a divine
life in the soul, there is stiH more than unity.
The truth is, the moment we have religion,
that moment we have a group of powers at
work. Different kinds of knowledge, differ
ent kinds of emotion, different kinds of ac
tion, find a place in that nature we call re
generate. As reHgion advances, therefore,
it advances through the medium of groups.
Each peculiar force works out in its own
way, diffuses its vitality, gains victories, or,
for the moment, simply holds its own. In

198 Christ and his Religion.
fact every leading movement of the mind
is complex. We talk about single thoughts
and feehngs; but the singleness is chiefly in
name. We caU the soul a unit; and in one
sense it is a unit; but in another sense it is
the source of possibUities that are well nigh
infinite. Although man is a distinct indi
vidual, yet not in singleness does he work
out his destiny. Progress in good or evil,
in knowledge or ignorance, is by a system
of grouping. Two or three errors will ruin
a man just as effectually as a hundred. Let
a person take a false view of himself, of
God, and of Christ, and he is gone. Upon
a vast number of other subjects he may be
sound or unsound: this will make no essen
tial difference as far as the chief facts are
concerned. The few errors decide the case;
decide it forever. A man may reach a crisis
in his history. During this crisis he may
examine carefully his form of behef. As
the result of this examination he rejects a
vast number of untruths. Still, if he retains
a few that are leading in their character,
there is no hope for him. Judas was lost
by a few bad tendencies: the penitent thief
was saved by a few that were good.

Laws of Progress. 199
If I look now at religion viewed as a
divine kingdom, I can see that it moves for
ward through the medium of groups of men.
A few guiding spirits march first, and the
multitude faU into line and follow after them
with greater or less wilhngness. In each
local church a smaU company of persons are
the source of power. They plan, organize,
toU, and pray. Let them die or depart into
another region, and the church sinks. If
it were a law that every religious person
must act before the kingdom of God could
move forward, it never would move for
ward. Thus far at least, groups of select
souls have done the work. " The new Hfe
of a period of restoration," says Isaac Tay
lor, " takes its rise in the spirits and hearts
of a few — a two, or three. Greater than
any ' tendency of events ' is the mind of
this and of that man — born, and taught,
and moved onward from above."* It is the
two or three gathered together that can claim
the blessing. In the theological sphere and
the missionary sphere the chiefs have opened
up the great lines of thought and action; and
the millions, startled by their energy and
* "Logic in Theology," p. 285.

200 Christ and his Religion.
influence, move apace. In fact the develop
ment of the race in all its branches has been
through the medium of groups of men. In
arts and arms, literature and government,
science and trade, a few choice minds are
the powers. Even in the matter of public
sin or wholesale wickedness, the magnates
walk first. There are hosts of inferior spir
its who are contented with a secondary place
in schemes of daring iniquity. It is fair to
suppose that as the Church advances, the
groups of men who lead it forward shall be
larger, purer, and more powerful. The time
wiU no doubt come when the entire kingdom
of Christ shall be a compact body of faith
ful souls.
The second law of progress shows that
religion is developed according to a threefold
principle. There is first the divine life,
then the growth of that life, and still again
the perfection of that life. We have thus
a distinct beginning, progress from that be
ginning, and completion as the result of
that progress. There can be no such thing
as the evolution of life without a germ.
Life must come from Hfe. I can not evolve
something out of nothing. I can only draw

Laws of Progress. 201
forth that which exists: never more than
that. Having found the germ, development
is possible, development is a fact. As we
look at the vegetable kingdom, the march
of Hfe is seen to be according to the num
ber three. There is the seed, the growth
from that, then the season of maturity.
What is worthy of attention, the third stage
is always double. As if one face were looking
over the past which has gone, and another
face were looking into the future which has
not yet come. When the fruit is ripe, it
does not remain on the tree forever. Be
ing fuUy ripe, it faUs to the ground. There
it takes root in the earth and forms a new
beginning; the Hfe always governing itself
according to the triad movement, and the
last member of the triad always containing a
duality. It is somewhat significant that the
work of the third day of the creation was
double. There was the gathering together
of the waters, and the appearance of vege
tation: this double fact making known to us
the end of the inorganic period, and the
beginning of the organic. The work of
the sixth day, this being the closing up
of a second triad, is also double. The

202 Christ and his Religion.
higher animals are created; and man makes
his appearance upon the stage; man ac
countable, immortal, made in the image of
God. Lepsius teUs us that the Egyptian
year had three seasons. The first was sym-
bohzed by a reservoir, the second by a
garden, and the third by a house. The hu
man race has its three cycles, — childhood,.
youth, and manhood. We notice also three
leading dispensations, — the Patriarchal, Jew
ish, and Christian. In these we see the
family, the nation, the world. The individ
ual has a threefold system of training. "In
childhood we are subject to positive rules
which we can not understand, but are bound
imphcitly to obey. In youth we are sub
ject to the influence of example, and soon
break loose from all rules unless illustrated
and enforced by the higher teaching which
example imparts. In manhood we are com
paratively free from external restraints, and
if we are to learn, must be our own in
structors. First come rules, then examples,
then principles. First comes the law, then
the Son of man, then the gift of the Spirit.
The world was once a chUd under tutors
and governors until the time appointed by

Laws of Progress. 203
the Father. Then, when the fit season had
arrived, the Example to which aU ages
should turn was sent to teach men what
they ought to be. Then the human race
was left to itself to be guided by the teach
ing of the Spirit within." *
The third law of progress shows that re
ligion advances by epochs. The thought here
is different from that of the previous one.
The development is not confined to the
number three. The epochs are of no cer
tain number. They may be few or many;
the person and his surroundings, as weU as
the law which directs the bestowment of
grace, making a difference. Religious char
acters in one age and nation may pass
through various stages of spiritual life, whUe
those in another age and nation may have
a development that is peculiar to themselves.
There are Christian souls whose Hfe is re
markably even. It seems Hke a continuous
chapter, with no breaks of any kind. StiU,
when carefully examined, there are varied
sections. In other persons the stages of de
velopment are clearly marked. They pass
through many seasons of revival during a
* "Essays and Reviews," p. 5.

204 Christ and his Religion.
Hfetime. These are remembered as periods
of strong faith, bright hope, warm-hearted
love, free and pleasant activity, healthful
joy and peace. There are some epochs of
holy life which are caused by afflictions, by
new and striking truths, a higher form of
thoughtfulness, a sudden inflow of grace from
the heart of God. There may be epochs also
that signahze the appearance of the mission
ary spirit within us, a more divine concep
tion of the Sabbath, a profounder sense of
eternal things than we ever had before, a
truer view of life and man than we ever
have been accustomed to exercise. Change
of place, entering upon some new relation,
may each introduce a new section of de
velopment. As we look at the kingdom of Christ, we
can see that different epochs have marked
its progress. The Pentecostal outpouring of
the Spirit was a new stage; the great per
secutions occasioned another; the Reforma
tion under Luther was a notable epoch; the
religious awakenings of the past century and
the present have formed a striking chapter;
the missionary and temperance movements
show specific sections of Hfe. The history

Laws of Progress. 205
of Christian doctrine is marked in the same
way by epochs. We see how the doctrine
of God comes forth, the person of Christ,
human nature and divine grace, the atone
ment, justification by faith, the inspiration
of Scripture. The present may even be
caUed the Christological age. Sharp con
flict rages around the character and person
of our Lord. In the next century a system
of pneumatology may be wrought out, — the
Divine Spirit being the centre of interest.
Possibly in the coming ages there may be
a more complete development touching the
mUlenium and the second coming of Christ
than we have yet seen. It may be a ques
tion also whether a full and final statement
of the atonement and original sin has yet
been reached. The future may throw some
light upon these doctrines.
Epochs of development are characteristic
of nations. The various languages and laws
show stages. There are periods of art and
education, of simphcity and morality, of
peace and freedom. There are epochs which
teU of solid thinking, of strict rule and cer
tain punishment, of poetry and fine taste,
of great daring and enthusiasm. There are

206 Christ and his Religion.
scientific and critical ages; ages of discovery
and invention; practical and speculative ages.
Taking the human race as a unit, its prog
ress is marked by stages. We may view
the human race as one man. This world-
man is about six or seven thousand years
old. His life is very different to-day from
what it was before the flood. When that
judgment of God struck him, he nearly per
ished in his sins. He is very much larger
and wiser at present than when he came
forth from the ark. He has also more of
good and evU about him than he had then.
Even in the space of two or three thousand
years, he has advanced exceedingly. Yea,
within the period of a few hundred years,
he has astonished himself by the rapidity
of his development. When we look-in this
way at the one universal man, having an
organic Hfe, as never having died, we see
quite clearly the progress he has made;
while at the same time we see his many
faUs, see that he has never been really weU,
notice his great restlessness, the mighty wars
with himself, his attempts to gain health and
happiness, but never quite succeeding. The
earth itself on which, he has lived seems al-

Laws of Progress. 207
most to be the counterpart of himself; try
ing in its own strange way to mimic him in
its movements. The ocean quiet to-day, and
excited to-morrow, just as he is himself.
Then the moaning of the winds in the dark
ness, making an effort to utter his complaint.
The bursting forth of volcanoes, making us
to think of his anger. The beautiful night
in the spring-time when he seems to be
asleep. The gardens covered with flowers
as if they were children of the angels who
had come to smUe along his path. His
strange dreams as he thinks of rest and of
home; of the Hfe that is never to end, and
of that Infinite One who alone can give
peace. The fourth law of progress points to the
fact that religious development is antithetic.
Christian progress is not in a straight Hne.
It is not sufficiently natural and normal to
reach that ideal. The fact of sin in human
nature, even after one is changed, hinders
the development and makes it one-sided.
The good man never presses forward but
that he is held back to a certain extent.
He may be fired with a glowing enthusi
asm, and be most resolute in his determi-

208 Christ and his Religion.
nation, yet a degree of weakness and way
wardness checks him in his course. There
is a divine force in his soul, but wind and
tide are against him; and so his progress
is antithetic. Like many a ship crossing the
ocean, he meets opposing currents and fierce
gales which drive him from the straight
course. As the saihng vessel has to tack
many a time, going this way and that in
order to gain a little, so is it with the Chris
tian in his passage to heaven. The log
book of a ship describes the soul's voyage
to the Land of Glory. It is unusual to
have a smooth sea and fine weather during
the whole passage. Days pleasant and un
pleasant, nights dark and clear, the speed fast
and slow, characterize the voyage. Some
times one even loses his reckoning, and can
not teU where he is. By and by the sun
comes out, and with that his true position,
and so he is filled with joy. Hope and fear,
grief and gladness, faith and unbelief, pain
and pleasure, mark the history of the re
Hgious mind. Our progress is conditioned
by a law of antagonism. In the midst of
contraries we are to fight our way. He
who gains the victory shaU be saved. The

Laws of Progress. 209
ideal progress wiU be seen in the eternal
kingdom of life.
There is no development upon earth except
that which is antithetic. The vapor ascends
and the rain falls. The very light comes to
us in waves. Sound trembles in its journey
through the air. Our blood beats in its
passage. We are conscious and unconscious,
remember and forget, sleep and awake, live
and die. The earth has its day and night,
its summer and winter. Knowledge and
civilization are never uniform. Man individ-
uaUy and collectively goes by starts. Ac
tivity and indolence mark his way. There
are bright and dark ages, progress and ret
rogression, revolution and repose. Empires
rise and fall, races Hve and disappear. If
a distinguished father seldom has a son as
distinguished as himself, so a noted period
of history is seldom followed by one that
equals it. The first age of Christianity was
purer than the second. The seventeenth
century in England showed greater mental
and spiritual power than the eighteenth. It
is doubtful whether the twentieth century
will equal the nineteenth in fruitfulness of
thought and invention. Thus a people strong
14

210 Christ and his Religion.
to-day are weak to-morrow, and a people
weak to-day are strong to-morrow. The
pride that echoes our greatness is the be
ginning of our relapse, and the humihty
that proclaims our nothingness is the first
step of our ascending march. Glory in truth
for truth's sake, may have wrapped up in
it self-sufficiency and hatred of God. The
waving banner of our bravery may simply
tell of our defeat. Our life may be death.
There is a wisdom which is not wise, a good
ness not good, a happiness not happy. The
weak are the strong: the lost are the saved.
Christian progress is something like a
winding staircase that leads to the top of
a high monument. It is like a road that
is cut around a great mountain; ascending
little by Httle, till finally after severe labor
the summit is reached. Religious devel
opment takes the spiral form. The posi
tion of leaves on the branch of a tree illus
trates the principle. "The spiral line of
development as the initial in evolution,"
says Dr. Dana, "and retained in its perfec
tion in the spiral arrangement of leaves in
plants, as well as in the parts of some ani
mals, is a grand law which science has

Laws of Progress. 211
evolved from the mass of facts in the plant
kingdom. And this law has its more special
announcements: follow the leaves, from one
leaf (A) as a starting point around the stem,
taking the course of the spiral to another
leaf (B) in the same vertical Hne with the
first; and if there are two or three leaves
in " the spiral, the spiral goes around but
once before reaching leaf B; if there are
five leaves in the spiral, the spiral revolves
two times before it reaches leaf B; if there
are eight leaves, it revolves three times; if
thirteen leaves, it revolves five time; if
twenty-one leaves, eight times; and so on,
and the converse, by an inflexible rule.
Placing the number of leaves above, and num
ber of turns below, the following series ex--
presses the relation: — \ \ \ % " g1. Now the
last eight, the number of revolutions for a
spiral of twenty-one leaves, is the sum of
five and three of the two next proceeding
spirals in the series; and twenty-one, of
thirteen and eight of the same two proceed
ing spirals. In this way the series extends
on, in exact mathematical relation." * Al
though Christian development takes the spiral
* "Bibliotheca Sacra," vol. xiii., p. 85.

212 Christ and his Religion.
form, yet it has not that regularity and com
pleteness that are seen in the arrangement
of leaves in the plant kingdom. The move
ment upward is zigzag. There may even be
a sinking down for a time by reason of some
great sin: then there is a rising again by re
pentance and love to a higher plane of Hfe
than was reached before. There is a gain
finally, though not a gain, perhaps, each
hour or day. The Christian Church has
made progress in the long run; yet certain
years and ages show a manifest dechne.
Places that once had the gospel, now have
it not; and places that once had not the
gospel, now have it. There is a "geo
graphical march " in reHgion, as well as
in history generaUy. It is safe to affirm
that there is more of vital Christianity to
day than ever existed before; a greater num
ber of pious souls now upon the stage than
ever flourished during any previous century.
The river that took its rise in Eden has
never ceased to flow. The heat of summer
has never dried it, and the cold of winter
has never frozen it. Millions of people have
quenched their thirst out of it in the ages
of the past, and millions more wUl drink

Laws of Progress. 213
out of it in the ages to come. The river is
wider and deeper than it was at the begin
ning. Indeed, it seems almost at certain
places to be a great sea. The fountain that
burst forth from Calvary has increased the
volume of its waters; and that fountain
never abates on any day, for a stream flows
forth from it greater than ever before. The
river is not straight, except at a few points.
It winds around hUls, goes through valleys,
and over plains as the case may be. As one
looks at it from the mountains of God, it is
very beautiful. Trees of life grow along its
margin; and the fruit of them is like to that
which they have in heaven; and the leaves
are always green. In future centuries the
river wiU flow around the earth. It will
then be caUed the Heavenly River; for the
people who Hve upon its banks will be very
pure, and the angels shall abide with them
through aU the years.
The fifth law of religious progress shows
that development is from fewness to mani-
foldness. Beginning with the first principles
of love, penitence, and faith, we are to go
forth to an extended multiplicity. The in
itial stage of development is always simple;

214 Christ and his Religion.
always working in a narrow sphere. The
different civilizations of the past had fewer
characteristics about them, than have the
civilizations of the present. Even the Hfe
of a hundred years ago had a simplicity and
plainness which we see not in our day. The
nations most assuredly have entered upon a
new cycle of development. Manifoldness is
the characteristic of the present. There may
not always be depth, not always soundness,
yet there is a most astonishing multiplicity.
We have in many cases a grievous number
of wants, a host of painful desires, a restless
rushing after things that profit us not. The
souls of the time seem to be more intense
and hungry than the souls of the early ages;
yet the food which they need they do not
always find; and so they roU and dart away
as the vexed fish in the wastes of the sea.
Christianity must be manifold. It must touch
human nature at every point. It must have
a kind of omnipresence. Grace must be
added to grace. "Progress," says Profes
sor Guyot, "is diversification. Homo-gene-
ousness, uniformity, is the elementary state.
Diversity, variety of elements, which caU for
and multiply exchanges; the almost infinite

Laws of Progress. 215
specialization of the functions corresponding
to the various talents bestowed on every
man by Providence, and only caUed into
action and brought to Hght by the thousand
wants of a society as complicated as ours, —
these have, in aU times, been the sign of a
social state arrived at a high degree of im
provement." * There must be a spiritual
wealth about the new man. He should
have an interest in aU that is good. No
virtue must be wanting, no course of train
ing forgotten, no self-denial passed aside.
What a scene of development takes place
from the time the seed is planted in the
ground, untU the time when the seed has
become a tree and is loaded with fruit.
What a picture of manifoldness is such a
tree ! How it symbolizes a good man ;
points to progress and perfection. If we
could look upon the rude materials which
were designed for some great cathedral, and
then look upon the cathedral after it was
finished, we should be astonished. The mul
tiplicity and elaborateness on the one hand,
and the fewness and roughness of substances
on the other, would startle us by the con-
* "Earth and Man," p. 97.

216 Christ and his Religion.
trast. What a vast number of thoughts
would such an edifice show forth ! The
Christian mind and character should be em-
blemized by such a noble fabric.
Not merely by righteous deeds are we
to extend and beautify the character, but
by using the wondrous variety of divine truths
that meet us on the pages of the Bible.
There is not a single Christian doctrine,
however mysterious it may be, but that
can be turned into a practical channel.
New views of God and salvation, of law
and duty, will generate a new class of feel
ings, and wiU enrich greatly the soul. If
we reject any single doctrine of Christianity,
which to our mind is not a doctrine of Chris
tianity at aU, then we suffer in our charac
ter. Each divine thought was designed to
have a place in fashioning and fitting us for
heaven. There may be phases of God's sov
ereignty and severity which we do not heart
ily admire; and so we may aim to soften
them down as not in harmony with our ideal
of a Perfect Being: but just to the extent
that we do this, we sink in the scale of
moral excellence. The most complete men
are those who have aUowed the totality of

Laws of Progress. 217
divine truth to touch their souls. The more
we come in a line with the grand theology
of Scripture the more we approach the per
fection of God. If there be phases of the
divine administration that baffle us, then let
these very phases develop in us a feeling of
awe and submission. A God that is squared
to match with the finite and faUen reason
of man, is sure to be no God at aU. There
are difficulties everywhere. To escape from
them is not possible. The very difficulties
may discipline the soul, making it stronger
forever. It is wise, then, to grasp every
form of truth, that the human spirit may
be made complete. When we look at Christ,
we can see the manifoldness of his character.
He showed no mark of immaturity and con-
tractedness. The one-sided and unfinished
were not his. He dwelt in the midst of
truth; was Truth itself. Each perfection
shone in his life. Each virtue found a
home in his heart. To approach his image
is our labor. To reach that image is heaven.

CHAPTER X.
TO ADVANCE IN THE RELIGION OF CHRIST DE.
MANDS STRENUOUS EFFORT.
r I "'HERE is evidently a law of limitation
in the bestowment of divine grace,
making it necessary for every Christian to
struggle to the utmost. Although remedial
powers may be said to be co-extensive with
the divine nature, yet, in using these powers,
there is a principle of caution and economy.
There are no trade-winds of love which sweep
passive souls onward tiU heaven is reached.
Salvation by grace is not salvation through
the medium of indifference. If we use our
moral power at any given time, God wUl
give us more; but, if we are sluggish, dark
ness surrounds us. Even Christ was pressed
to the utmost limit of human endurance
Although all the resources of the Godhead
were his, there was some great law that
conditioned and measured their use. How
can we explain the fact that he was in an

Advancement Demands Effort. 219
agony, except upon the supposition that di
vine strength could only be used by him
to a certain extent. If the Redeemer had
wrought out salvation with ease, then with
ease souls might have been saved. It would
seem almost as if redemption were an ex
ceptional thing in the system of God, and
as if it must be guarded with great care
lest evfl should come out of it. When we
look at the matter of doing good, we can
see plainly enough that this is not by any
means an easy thing. The march of Chris
tianity in this world has been slow. Men
have had to toU long and painfuUy in order
to accomplish a Httle. We are to be pos
sessed with a great thought, and with that
great thought firing and fixing our souls
we are to go forward. Yet when we have
done our best, the suggestive words sound
through our being — ' ' The righteous scarcely
are saved." They do enter heaven, but that
is all. To some Christian souls there may
be twelve degrees of grace, to others twenty,
to others one hundred, and even to some
royal spirits there may be one thousand ;
but each has somewhat according to his
manner of life. God can do no more than

220 Christ and his Religion.
he has done in the case of any religious
man. Every thing shows, therefore, that
we must be intent in the matter of our
Christianity. Two leading powers in the development
of the race, have been the sense of profit and
the sense of pleasure. Look at man in a
rude state. If clothing is needed, the in
dividual provides it for himself. If a hut
is wanted, he constructs one. Tools, weap
ons of defence, cooking utensils, furniture,
ornaments, are all made by himself. It is
seen, however, after a time, that labor can
be divided with great benefit to aU con
cerned. Consequently there appear carpen
ters, masons, weavers, tailors, shoemakers,
traders, and many others. A man feels
that it is more profitable and pleasant to
confine his attention to one thing. By con
centration of effort, articles are perfected,
cheapened, and thus rendered more acces
sible. Under the impulses of profit and
pleasure, one man chooses one calling, and
another man another caUing. Each is anx
ious to gain as much wealth as he can,
and as much comfort as he can. There are
persons who change from one branch of in-

Advancement Demands Effort. 221
dustry to another, because they think that
the change wUl be more agreeable and prof
itable to them. Men go from the country
to the city, and from one state to another,
under the influence of the same motives.
Inventions are multiphed, commerce is ex
tended, machinery is set in motion, at the
bidding of profit and pleasure. Sometimes
one of these motives wiU be made subordi
nate to the other. A man may see a for
tune before him which can only be reached
through the medium of suffering: he is will
ing to suffer. Another man tired with the
rush after wealth sinks into indolence: the
love of ease to him is a sweet joy.
Entering, then, the sphere of Christian
discipline, we are met by these two princi
ples of action. They seek to govern us ;
seek to neutralize our piety; seek to human
ize it as much as possible. ReHgion, how
ever, is not mere profit and pleasure. HoH-
ness is the chief thing; the expulsion of sin
the chief thing. To aUow one's self to be
governed by the agreeable and the profit
able is easy; but to strike out upon a course
of righteousness is difficult. At the begin
ning of the Christian life I can see that pain

222 Christ and his Religion.
is the condition of purity. I am beset with
cravings that I must deny; and to deny these
cravings is not pleasant. Here are appetites
of fearful power; appetites that have ruined
milHons; and I must keep them in their
proper place. A system of materiahsm is
outside of me, capable of generating both
painful and pleasant sensations, and I must
make it subordinate. In the human soul is
the love of power, the love of honor, and
the love of action — these miast be regu
lated. Even the affections that centre in
the family, the nation, and the race, have
to be watched. Then there is ignorance and
selfishness that we must fight against. Con
sidering the vast power and range of de
pravity in the soul, the driU in hohness is
not easy. Whether a man wants a vigorous
inteUect or a vigorous heart, he must suffer
pain. Neither a scholar nor a saint can be
formed without severe discipline.
We must say this, however, that so long
as goodness is practised under a sense of
pain, there is weakness and imperfection.
"We must make the pleasure or pain,"
says Aristotle, "which follows after acts a
test of the habits; for he who abstains from

Advancement Demands Effort. 223
the bodUy pleasures, and in this very thing
takes pleasure, is temperate ; but he who
feels pain at it is intemperate; and he who
meets dangers and rejoices at it, or at least
feels no pain, is brave; but he who feels
pain is a coward." * The pain is a sign
that evil is trying to hold its own; and, so
long as it exists, it shows that the evU is
not conquered. The aim, then, must be to
reach a stage of development when pain shall
give way to pleasure. Not tiU moral action
and joy come together is there a right state
of soul. Many things in life are painful at
first; but by continual practice they become
pleasant. So long as I have to urge my
soul to duty by the most stirring motives,
that shows that I am weak: but when I
can obey God from pure willingness, that
shows that I am strong.
StiU, while I am in the imperfect state,
I must make myself do what I do not want
to do. The wiU must go forth into action
at the command of the purest motives, at
the very time motives of an opposite char
acter are striving to hold it back. A disa
greeable duty may consist in beginning a
* "Nicom. Ethics," p. 37. Bonn's ed.

224 Christ and his Religion.
course of action which has been left unber
gun for years ; it may consist in restoring
money that was taken by fraud; in forsak
ing companions that have never done me
any good; in asking forgiveness of a man
whom I have injured, or in treating a man
kindly who has injured me. " The young
Scythian was bound to drink the blood of
the first enemy whose life he had taken;
and he who had not drunk of this horrible
draught was condemned to sit apart in the
great festivals presided over by the chiefs
of the tribe." We are not bound by any
unnatural custom like that. We must sim
ply do our duty though it seems like pluck
ing out a right eye, or cutting off a right
arm. If we can fasten the soul to a final
purpose to go straight forward in the path
of goodness, whatever the opposition, that
will greatly help us. "Resolved," says Pres
ident Edwards, " that / will do whatsoever I
think to be most to God's glory and my
own good, on the whole ; without any con
sideration of the time, whether now, or never
so many myriads of ages hence; to do what
ever I think to be my duty, and most for
the good and advantage of mankind in gen-

Advancement Demands Effort. 225
eral — whatever difficulties I meet with, how
many and how great soever." * New life
enters the soul by the mere reading of such
a resolution as that.
I must so train myself that I shaU not
be irritated or vexed. That the things are
numerous which are calculated to sour the
mind, no one can doubt; but merely to flee
from these things is not to flee from the
native sourness of the soul. Are there per
sons who defame me as matter of fact? per
sons who slight me as matter of fact? Be
it so. What foUows? That I should be ex
cited for days and weeks because of these
things? Very far from it. Rather this, that
I should take hold of my feelings that are
apt to be rasped and put them in subjec
tion. These feelings have no right to con
quer me: I must conquer them. How is
it possible to insult a man ? In a vast num
ber of cases it is the self-importance that
has been insulted, and not the real man
at aU. ShaU I then give way to my pride?
This would be to unman myself; to make
myself contemptible in my own eyes. A
man made for immortality soured? a man
* "Works," i., p. 3.
15

226 Christ and his Religion.
made for the infinite God insulted? This
is without meaning. What is there in the
breath of a mortal, in the look of an eye
that will shortly be the food of worms, in
the motion of a hand that will be stiff in
death quite soon? Higher up we must live.
Too earthly we are. "Remember," says Ep-
ictetus, "that to the brave and wise and
true there is really no such thing as mis
fortune; the croak of the raven can portend
no harm to such a man. We do not choose
our own parts in life, and have nothing to
do with those parts; our simple duty is con
fined to playing them weU. The slave may
be as free as the consul; and freedom is the
ehief of blessings. No one can insult you
if you wiU not regard his words or deeds
as insults."
We can not very well escape from temp
tation, yet we may escape from the sin to
which the temptation moves us. There is
no causative power in temptation: it is sim
ply the occasion of evil. The causative
power Hes in the bad heart and wiU. I
shaU lift a greater weight and carry a greater
burden forever because I was tempted here.
It is impossible for us to know the ex-

Advancement Demands Effort. 227
act state of our character until we are
tempted. What we deem to be favored
virtues may be nothing but favored sins.
"I can not praise," remarks Milton, "a
fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised
and unbreathed, that never sallies out and
sees her adversary, but shnks out of the
race where the immortal garland is to
be run for, not without dust and heat.
Assuredly we bring not innocence into the
world — we bring impurity much rather;
that which purifies us is trial, and trial is
by what is contrary. The virtue, therefore,
which is but a youngling in the contempla
tion of evU, and knows not the utmost that
vice promises to her followers, and rejects
it, is but a blank virtue, not a pure."
We are frequently told to look on the
bright side, as if only in that way we can
truly drill the soul in righteousness. That
may be the best way to escape from trou
ble, but not the best way to escape from
sin. No mind is a true mind that does not
look on the dark as weU as on the bright.
To train ourselves merely to view the fair
and the attractive is to cheat the soul. It
is our duty to see things just as they are

228 Christ and his Religion.
I have no right to make good and evil to
be less or more than they are. To look
away from evil wiU never destroy it. The
soul may sink into a pleasant reverie, but
it is not redeemed in that way. The holi
est men have felt sin the most: the most
sinful men have felt it the least. If I
would reform myself or the world, I must
grasp both sin and salvation.
The reHgious soul should have in suitable
measure the quality of moral indignation;
According to the intensity of our love of
goodness, should be the intensity of our
hatred of wickedness. How the Saviour
addressed the Scribes and Pharisees in the
clear heat of his indignation ! Sharply as
eternal truth he tells them that they are
blind guides, that they had taken away the
key of knowledge, that they devoured wid
ows' houses, that they are hypocrites, and
that they could not escape the damnation
of hell. The holy indignation of God has
about it an infinite intensity. It is because
his purity is so pure that his entire moral
nature rises up against sin. The same book
which affirms that "God is love," affirms
that "God is a consuming fire." Human

Advancement- Demands Effort. 229
progress is only a painting of goodness, so
long as a high-toned indignation is wanting
Those cycles of advance which mark the
history of great souls were aU commenced
by a sense of sin that was deep, and a
hatred of it that was holy. There are
deeds of men which, the moment we see
them, should awaken within us an exceed
ingly sharp indignation. It has been re
ported of the Rev. Frederick Robertson,
that "he has been seen to grind his teeth,
and clench his fist when passing a man
who, he knew, was bent on destroying an
innocent girl." There is even a punitive
element in righteous indignation. It takes
sides with law, demands that the guilty
shall suffer.
Moral courage must also appear as the
result of Christian discipline. Without this
forceful quahty the life wUl always have a
certain tameness about it. Moral courage
should contain the summing up of the soul's
goodness; as if in this it found a way to ex
press itself, and by this the real strength of
the character was seen. It is the speech of
rectitude, the voice of truth, the flame of love.
The martyr Christianity is always bold. A

230 Christ and his Religion.
fine specimen of boldness is presented to us
by the chaplain of Frederick WiUiam the
First of Prussia. The monarch was upon
his dying bed; and the faithful minister ad
dresses him in the following way. "'I have
often told your majesty that Christ is the
hope of our salvation, on the two condi
tions that we accept him with the heart,
and foUow his example and precepts. So
long as we faU in either of these conditions,
so long can we not enter into his rest.
And if your majesty were to be saved by a
miracle, you would not enjoy heaven, in
the condition of mind in which you now are.
Your army, your treasures, your lands must
remain here — no courtiers can foUow you
there, no servants on whom you can wreak
your anger. In heaven a man must have a
heavenly mind.' These were words worthy
of a Nathan. The king remained silent,
and yet he looked round with an appeahng,
supplicating eye, as if to say, WiU no one
come to my rehef? But when the attend
ants retired and the monarch began to re
count his sins one by one, the chaplain
refused to Hsten to so unprotestant a con
fession, and only demanded that . the king

Advancement Demands Effort. 231
should acknowledge the need of a change of
heart, and this Frederick WiUiam would
not grant. He thought that in this kings
had the advantage of other men, and he in
sisted on justifying himself by his good
works. And when some one who stood by
sided with the dying man, the chaplain
charged upon the poor monarch the blows
which he had inflicted upon his subjects,
the tyranny he had exercised over them,
and the unjust sentences of death which he
had passed."*
The good man must also school himself
into the ministering form of Christianity. If
he has gained knowledge, let him communi
cate that to others. If he has trained him
self to logical thinking, let him use that gift
in the advocacy of truth and righteousness.
Has he cultivated a fine taste, so that a3s-
thetic studies are pleasant to him? then let
him imbue other minds with the same char
acteristic. If he has a rich and weU-guarded
imagination, let him yield up the treasures
at his command to others; stamping the same
glowing pictures upon their souls that he has
in his own. Is he subjective in the cast of
* Haganbaoh, "German Rationalism," p. 21.

233 Christ and his- Religion.
his mind, knowing the heights and depths
that are found there ? let him try and make
others equally subjective, that they may
understand that nature which is immortal,
fallen, and lost. Is he outward in the bent
of his soul, struck with that which he sees
and hears? let him give all that is valuable
from that quarter, whether it belongs to
man or manners, to seas or stars, to insects
playing in the air, or birds chanting the
hymns of God. If he can make known
some historical event of great moment, point
to some link of a chain of Providence that is
different from aU others, mention a particu
lar mountain or plain that is instinct with
meaning, then let him do all this in the best
way he can. If his soul has been sounded
and searched by thoughts that relate to an
endless life, let him make known the fact,
if so be he may entice others to think of
that country and kingdom where men dwell
in peace forever. If the miseries of hell
have startled him, so that his soul turned
pale before an awful vision, then he may teU
the vision to others, that they may flee from
the coming wrath. Whether what he has to
say be dreadful, or the contrary, divine or

Advancement Demands Effort. 233
human, let him do his duty. God is to be
served whether the service brings praise or
blame. The piety of missions must also be devel
oped. It is safe to say that the highest
type of Christianity is the missionary Chris
tianity. As specimens of pure and power
ful religion, where shall we find men like
Brainerd, Henry Martyn, Swartz, and Dr.
Judson? What a fine class of men the
Moravians have produced — humble, self-sac
rificing, dying that, the heathen around them
might live ! The missionary spirit develops
a noble enthusiasm. The enthusiasm is kin
dled by the attempt to save the perishing.
The enthusiasm clears the atmosphere of the
soul, banishes doubts and fears, starts latent
energies. There is holy excitement. We
behold men of the burning heart. Chris
tians should view themselves as containing
a spiritual fund to be used for the eternal
good of men, or at least they should view
themselves as the channels through which
flows the wealth of God to the nations. We
are accustomed to say that a ' ' moral sense "
characterizes the whole race of man: so a
missionary sense ought to characterize the

234 Christ and his Religion.
whole race of Christians. This missionary
sense should be cultivated to the highest
extent possible. It should be the imper
sonation of divine love. If the cause of
missions had done no more than lead men
to give of their substance in order to send
the gospel to pagan lands, it would still have
done much towards purifying Christian souls.
The heart is opened, refined, and expanded
by this means. I am to give freely, quickly,
intelligently, and largely. My gifts are to
be thank-offerings and prayers. I am to
keep training myself until I can give a large
amount with pleasure. If I dedicate my
property to God, I dedicate my soul to his
service. A leading design of the Church is to rep
resent to the world the life of Christ. No
single Christian is able to do this. One may
have tenderness and courage; another, pa
tience and perseverance; another, faith and
love; another, humihty and hope. When we
view the collective people of God with all
their graces, we catch a faint likeness of the
Redeemer. The purer the Church, the lof
tier the Saviour appears. Men will even
talk of "the sins of Jesus." when his dis-

Advancement Demands Effort. 235
ciples are like the common multitude. A
veritable Christian is evidence that Christ
is no deceiver, and Christianity no He. If
a renovating influence does flow forth from
the Redeemer of men, the proof of that
must be seen in a renovated Church. In
Christians Christ becomes incarnate; in them
he suffers and dies; in them he rises again
to newness of life; and with them he ascends
to the right hand of God. The cross which
they carry is ever a reminder of the one on
which he hung. Their tears and their trav-
aU make us to think of his agony. The love
and sorrow of the entire Church of God
seem to shadow forth the infinite tragedy
of redemption.

CHAPTER XI.
DISCIPLINE BEST EFFECTED IN THE RELIGION
OF CHRIST BY THOROUGHNESS IN ONE OR TWO
THINGS.
HPO a person who thinks carefuUy in re
gard to the training of the mind, a
question wiU arise like this: Is it better to
have an imperfect knowledge of many things,
than a perfect knowledge of a few things?
Judging by the general practice, an imper
fect knowledge of many things is deemed
the most desirable. Is this general practice
in harmony with wisdom? Would it not be
better, all things considered, to concentrate
the attention upon one or two things? By
adopting this method the mind is reaUy dis
ciplined. The discipline is continued for a
sufficiently long period. This strengthens
the mind. The person does not merely
feel that he has thoroughly mastered one
or two subjects, but along with this is the
consciousness of real mental strength. He

Means of Discipline. 237
has gained the power of thinking, the power
of continued abstraction. In fact he has the
power to stand alone. It is not, therefore,
that he knows aU about one or two subjects.
This is a good and desirable thing. But be
yond the knowledge, he has trained himself
to be a workman. The mind is educated.
There is an abUity to take hold of a great
variety of subjects, and to go through with
these in a very satisfactory and scholarly
way. It is not that the person stays with
the one or two subjects, as if these mark
off the sum of his knowledge, and equally
the amount of his mental ability. Not by
any means. Having now learned the art of
thinking on the one hand, and the blessed
ness of thoroughness on the other, he goes
forward, and becomes wiser and stronger
each day that he Hves and each step that
he takes.
Take now the other person who believes
that it is best to know a Httle of every thing,
who yet has never mastered a single sub
ject. Why, the very first thing that strikes
you in regard to this person is the fact that
he has no mental training; He can not think
out a difficult subject; a subject which may

238 Christ and his Religion.
take days or weeks to understand. He has
no inclination which would prompt him to
undertake such severe mental labor. If he
allowed himself to begin, he would soon
grow weary. He would want to rest, and
refresh himself. Then he would begin again;
try for a while again; but quickly he would
tire, finding that he has no mental ability
for such a task. Not only is there this dif
ficulty with a person who has a superficial
knowledge of many things, but the many
things which are known a little, begin very
soon to fade away. They are like the seed
that was sown upon stony ground which
quickly sprang up, and just as quickly with
ered and died. There is not sufficient com
pass and vigor of soul to hold the multitude
of Httle knowledges. The mind therefore,
after a season, becomes meagre and empty.
The mere smattering of Latin and French
and history and philosophy, has vanished
away, and the individual is out upon the
journey of life and in the midst of the busi
ness of life with no mental capital and no
mental force. Hundreds and thousands of
doUars may have been spent in gaining what
was thought to be a good . education, but.

Means of Discipline. 239
there was no education at all. The ability
to think out a difficult subject has not been
gained, and real knowledge approaching com
pleteness has not been gained.
Now, the person who knows one or two
things thoroughly has this advantage, that
he is better able to make use of any frag
mentary knowledge which he may possess,
because of the vitahty and depth there is
to his mind. There is not that weakness
about it which characterizes the individual
who has swept over a great surface ; and
consequently the energy of soul extends over
and gives Hfe to the particles of information
that have been gained. Thus the man who
has mastered one or two subjects, retains
these and more besides; while he who has
glanced at a vast number of things, soon
beholds them sinking out of his consciousness.
I have thus stated a principle relating to
intellectual development, which I want to
apply to religious development.
My first statement is this, that a more
substantial character will be formed by mas
tering one or two of the leading doctrines of
Christianity, than by simply having a sHght
acquaintance with very many of the doe*

240 Christ and his Religion.
trines. Suppose, for instance, I have gained
a thorough knowledge touching the sinful
condition of human nature. I have studied for
months and years in regard to the fallen
state of man, not merely from works of
theology, but from the Bible, my own con
sciousness, and from observation. I have
thus come to see how profound is the fact
of sin. It sinks into the depths of the soul.
Its roots I find everywhere. I perceive that
there is not a faculty but that it touches.
I become conscious of no sacred place in
the human spirit that is free from its malign
power. I notice also with what wonderful
tenacity it holds its own. There is about it
an enmity and determination that I, single-
handed, can not overcome. I catch phase
after phase of this mighty evil of souls. I
am deeply impressed with what I know.
I do not merely perceive intellectuaUy that
man is destitute of holiness, but I know it
from conscious experience. I can truly say
that by nature there dwelleth in me no good
thing. I am lost; absolutely and eternaUy
lost. Now, such thorough acquaintance, as is
nere presupposed in regard to the fallen

Means of Discipline. 241
state of man, will throw an influence over
the whole sphere of Christian doctrine and
life. A kind of thinking has been started
and a kind of feeHng has been awakened
that will most certainly touch a vast variety
of truths and actions. The thoroughness in
regard to the fact of sin wiH caU for a pow
erful and complete system of redemption.
Once gain this knowledge and experience
touching personal sin, and a Christian of
vigorous type and serious determination wiU
be sure to appear. Compare such a Chris
tian with one who is superficial in the whole
cast of his theology, and a difference will
be seen in a moment.
Suppose, again, that having thoroughly
studied the doctrine of sin, the man now
thoroughly studies the nature and character
of God, the power here wUl show itself very
much in the same way. Let there be a clear
apprehension of the divine holiness, and it
wiU be wonderful how that will move and
stimulate the soul. Not merely wiU one be
impressed by the spotless purity of God, but
this purity wUl react upon the soul and cause
it to have a vision of its own sinfulness.
Then, too, let there be a correct under-
16

242 Christ and his Religion.
standing of the divine justice and the divine
mercy. These two moral attributes wUl not
merely awaken feehngs in regard to God,
but they wiU be sure to awaken feelings
with reference to the soul itself. The jus
tice wUl alarm the guilty: the mercy wiU
encourage the penitent. Indeed, if I gain
a very full conception of the divine charac
ter, this wiU on the one hand give me an
exalted conception of God, whUe on the
other hand it wiU cause me to see my own
littleness and sin; and then, branching out
from these two conceptions, I wiU be led to
think of the greatness and glory of the re--
demption of Christ. If now I am impressed
by the eternity, omnipotence, and knowl
edge of God, a serious thoughtfulness wiU
characterize my soul; and the truth that
stands before me for acceptance wiU receive
a coloring from my feelings.
Thus let any Christian man have a thor
ough acquaintance with the doctrines just
'- stated, and it wiU be astonishing to see
how he wiU go beyond all those religious
persons who have not a single complete view
of any truth of the divine system. The sim
ple mastering of those thoughts that relate

Means of Discipline. 243
to God and man, seems to open up the whole
scheme of life; and the sHght knowledge that
was possessed in regard to other things has a
new freshness thrown around it: the whole
being receives a quickening as if touched by
the electric currents of heaven.
A second statement which I now make
is this, that by thoroughness in one or two re
ligious states of mind we have the best method
of disciplining the soul in reHgion. When
I look at professedly Christian people and
see how variously they act in given circum
stances, I can not very weU explain their
different courses unless I go upon the sup
position that the more faithful among them
have a fixed reHgious cast or habit of mind,
whUe the unfaithful have nothing of that
kind at aU. I am very sure of this that no
man wiH ever be a truly good man unless
he has wrought into his soul what I call a
reHgious cast or habit; a kind of pure bias
that sways him, a sound consciousness that
keeps him. If he is simply at the mercy of
old principles of evil, broken in upon occa-
sionaUy by pure thoughts and feehngs, then
he wiU have no settled drift of goodness.
. Now, suppose that here is a Christian man

244 Christ and his Religion.
who has gained by repeated efforts a con
sciousness of that which is infinite. The
consciousness does not merely extend over
an hour or over a day, and then disappear
like the sun beneath the horizon, but it re
mains essentially a steady consciousness of
the infinite. This Christian may be taxed
by his business, so that he seems to have
no time to think of any thing else, yet, the
very moment he rests and looks within, the
consciousness of the infinite is there. The
finite he knows quite weU; knows how
meagre and empty it is. It meets not the
wants of an immortal spirit. As well feed
a hungry man with sand, as a God-created
soul with that which passes away. MUlions,
however, live, and millions die, having never
found any thing else than that which is Hm-
ited. But the Christian that we are think
ing about has entered into the region of the
infinite. He lives in view of unbounded
reahties. He drinks at eternal fountains.
The sun that iUumines his being never sets,
and the air that he breathes is the air of
God. He may tarry here as other men
tarry, work here as other men work, smile
and weep as other men smile and weep; yet

Means of Discipline. 245
the cast of his mind turns that mind to an
other sphere; he communes with the infinite,
feels at home there, is blessed there. This
sense of the infinite modifies aU this man's
Hfe. It touches and turns the smaUest ac
tion as weU as the greatest. A great mag
net seems to draw him onward. Now, I
say, with this sense of the infinite quite
complete, although it be but one phase of
the mind, it reaUy commands that mind,
gives wonderful meaning to it, makes the
man to feel that he is a stranger among
friends, that his native land is not here,
that his brothers and sisters Hve in the city
of God, and that only in that region of Hfe
will he be at rest, with purity that has no
stain. Far different from this man is the
other one who is in what may be caUed a
state of religious mediocrity. The common
place runs through aU. There is a field with
grass and flowers, but every thing is stinted.
No streams run through it to give it Hfe.
The dew of night only falls upon it. Not
like the garden of God does it seem, al
though God may walk through it. There is
no tree of Hfe with fruit and singing birds;
no bower of bliss where the angels sit down

246 Christ and his Religion.
at noon. It is a dry and weary place
Death and Hfe are struggling. Heaven is
not near.
Let us imagine now that the religious man
has a deep consciousness of salvation. Each
moment of Hfe he feels the need of this sal
vation, and each moment of Hfe he applies
it to his heart. There is no business so press
ing as to make him forget it, and no cares so
annoying as to make him lose sight of it. He
works his way through life with a steady eye
fixed on the great redemption; feeling that
time is nothing without it, and that eternity
is aU because of it. He is no legahst drilling
himself as best he can; straining the faculties
that sin may sicken and die; lashing the pas
sions that they be still; polishing the con^
science that it may be clear; spurring the
will that it may rush into obedience. No
doubt he works hard and works long, but
aU his power comes from Christ. His whole
character may be called redemptive. He
breathes the air of Calvary; rays from the
cross iUuminate his soul; the Crucified One
inspires him; he is washed in the blood of
the Lamb. His disposition may be called
Christly, and his life through aU the hours

Means of Discipline. 247
is a Christly life. With this consciousness
of salvation the discipHne of the soul is
healthy. The method instead of being cir
cuitous, is direct; instead of being manifold,
it is single; instead of being natural, it is
supernatural. In this way there is no waste.
Power is not scattered and weakened: it is
economized and concentrated.
Again, complete self-forgetfulness is the surest
way to reach completeness of character.
There may be prejudices and passions in
our nature that seek to be gratified, a strong
disinclination to suffer, a number of thorny
characteristics which bristle out at the trum
pet caU of duty, and so half heartedly we
enter upon the work of holiness. Egoism
stands ever in our way, and we accomplish
but Httle. The orator is never himself till
he loses sight of himself. The poet is never
a poet until he is carried away from himself
by a great inspiration. The scholar wiU
never accomplish any thing unless he has
the power of abstraction. "In a military
expedition which Socrates made along with
Alcibiades, the phUosopher was seen by the
Athenian army to stand for a whole day and
a night, untU the breaking of the second

248 Christ and his Religion.
morning, motionless, with a fixed gaze, —
thus showing that he was uninterruptedly
engrossed with the consideration of a single
object." We only seem to Hve when we
are lost in truth, lost in hohness, lost in
God. To be perpetually thinking of self
is an utter degradation. Why can not I
live in the midst of a benevolent passion,
seeking only the good of the men who are
about me ? Am I not in bondage just to
the extent that I think of myself? The
misery we suffer on the one hand, and the
happiness we crave on the other, seem to caU
forth a great deal of self-consciousness. We
are troubled in regard to what men think of
us. Their praises we value too highly: their
frowns we fear too much. Would it not be
an infinite gain to escape from self for a
single day? Would it not be happiness
itself to concentrate our powers upon a single
immortal soul, trying to rescue that soul from
eternal sin and eternal death? Are there
not wondrous thoughts so far-reaching and
valuable, that I ought to lose myself in their
golden radiance, and by that very means be
transfigured? Can not I have a sentiment
for the divine so aU embracing, that my in-

Means of Discipline. 249
dividual self shaU sink out of sight by reason
of the greatness of the Divine Object ? What
nobihty can there be to a soul that is per-
petuaUy occupied about its own Httle affairs,
forgetful of that immensity of existence that
is aU around? Is there no exalted mission
in the universe of God that may call forth the
energies of the human spirit, sinking by the
very intensity of the actions aU concern of
that spirit for itself? Was it not the meat
and drink of Christ to do his Father's will ?
Is it not said of him that he " pleased not
himself"? Surely the way to discipHne the
soul in piety, is to reach forth to the attain
ment of self-abnegation. If it be a fact that
I am in Christ and am to be saved by him
alone, then my business is to Hve for him. I
am to remember the Redeemer, and forget
myself. I can not think of him too much, nor
think of myself too Httle. If God and heaven
be mine, then I may work with the utmost
self-forgetfulness. But is not this very self-forgetfulness a diffi
cult state to reach ? It is. There is nothing
great in souls or out of them that is reached
with ease. Sin only is easy, yet it is not
easy. By the touch of a match a ball will be

250 Christ and his Religion.
sent off from a cannon, but not by a mere
volition will a man be driven away from him
self. Self-forgetfulness is an art, as weU as
a holy state of mind, and we must keep try
ing to practice it till the art is learned. If
mental abstraction can be cultivated, so can
moral. We do not enter upon the service of
God with sufficient purpose. Eternal obliga
tions do not press down upon us. We aUow
ourselves too much freedom; and so we sin
without much pain, and find holiness without
much joy. If we set the mind upon the busi
ness in hand and hold it there for an hour, we
shall be all the stronger for the hour's effort.
Why may we not fix a habit of holy attention,
as well as a habit of self-attention ? Our life
is too hap-hazard, too much a matter of
course. We do not bind ourselves down to
duty, determined to act as commanded.
When I open my Bible and look through
it, I do find statements relating to a great
variety of duties; yet I find also the com
pact and condensed method of drilling the
soul through governing states of mind. I
notice, for instance, that God is made the
centre, and that whether I eat, or drink, or
whatsoever I do, all must be done to his

Means of Discipline. 251
glory. What is this but calhng into play a
great generic thought, feeling, and purpose?
Then, again, how faith is emphasized; mak
ing the whole Christian Hfe to be connected
with it; so that the life rises or faUs, as the
faith is strong or weak. More can. be done
for the discipHne of the soul by perfecting
faith than by fixing our attention on thou
sands of minute acts. In aU false reUgions
the mind is made to foUow after a round
of services, — many prayers, offerings, pen
ances, fastings, and works, — aU exactly spe
cified as a merchant marks his goods in his
store. This is being religious by a kind of
spiritual arithmetic: the only way that man
has struck upon when left to himself. The
Bible method, while it never loses sight of
the smaUest actions, points to leading move
ments of soul as of the first importance,
because by these the whole man is con
trolled. Let there be a profound sense of
obligation, a state of pure love, a penitential
frame of mind, or any other spiritual habits,
and the work is done.
John Gerson, the Reformer before the
Reformation, was a man of great parts and
great humility. On the day before his death

252 Christ and his Religion.
he caUed the Httle children together whom
he had been accustomed to teach, and re
quested them to offer up this prayer for him
when he was gone: " 0 God, my Creator,
have mercy on thy poor servant, John
Gerson." Not even satisfied with this, he
directed that there should be carved on his
tombstone the words: "Pray for poor John
Gerson." However unsound this may be in
doctrine, it shows that the state of unworthi-
ness was a leading power in the formation
of his character. The likeness of Calvin, as
seen in the old editions of his works, has
under it this motto — liPrompte et sincere" — ¦
Promptly and honestly. Here, again, there
is a caU for leading moral habits. He who
has a soldier-like promptness, ready for ac
tion at any moment, with a heart that is
honest in the sight of God — such an one
wUl be able to train himself in aU good
things. " When Grotius was dying, he was
asked what he would recommend to others.
He rephed, 'Be serious, be serious.'" This
distinguished man knew that seriousness was
an important state of mind, that it was a
kind of spiritual atmosphere surrounding the
soul, and so, by having this, a great deal

Means of Discipline. 253
would foUow from it that is good and true.
On Herder's monument at Weimar were in
scribed the words — "Light, love, life." Such
language imphes a luminous state for the
intellect, and a loving and living state for
the affections and wfll.

CHAPTER XII.
NON-VOLUNTARY INFLUENCE AS AFFECTING THE
RELIGION OF CHRIST.
TN this age of assertion and positive effort,
many are apt to think that there is no
way to form character save by direct means.'
This is a great mistake. It is a question
whether non-voluntary influence is not as
powerful as the influence that is voluntary.
" We are told that the tone of a beU de
pends in part upon the imperceptible vibra
tions of the atmosphere, when, in the mo
ments of fusion, the metal is settling in the
mould. So is it with a Christian character.
Powers unknown and unthought of, and cir
cumstances soon and long forgotten, and oc
casions scarcely observed in their passing,
may give to it that tone which can not be
described and the cause of which can not
be defined, and yet which shaU distinguish
it forever." Influence is a very mysterious
agent; working many a time in a very mys-

NON-VOLUNTARY INFLUENCE. 255
terious way. It seems to be a kind of in
visible power, set to work by the Creator
at the occupation of fashioning souls.
If we look at nature, simply acting in its
own sphere, we can see that it is ever send
ing forth an influence. Take the ocean that
spans the globe; viewing it not merely in
the abstract as a body of water. It is the
source of vapor; that vapor ascends; it moves
round the globe in its airy chariot; it de
scends to the earth in the form of rain: the
Hfe of man and beast depends upon it.
Look at the air also that surrounds the
earth.' It is a great invisible sea many mUes
deep. The clouds Hke ships of God saU
through it; like celestial islands they float
over it. The air is the great lung of the
earth; the lung that is fiUed with constant
Hfe; the lung that heaves with every mo
ment of time. We aU Hve because of this
ocean of air that is ever about us. Its very
fineness seems to show the fineness of life.
It is a great unseen power, just as Hfe is a
great unseen energy. Take light; what an
ethereal universe that is ! It seems Hke the
empire of spirits; Hke the garment of God;
Hke the radiance that streams forth from

256. Christ and his Religion.
the Eternal. How gently that light settles
down upon us. It wakes not the infant
out of its slumber; it reaches the smaU eye
of the insect with a smile; its footsteps are
Hke those of the angels when they pass
through among us. Take away that Hght,
and we should have nothing but death.
Look at gravitation; how sweeping that is !
It connects itself with all systems. Each
atom of matter feels its power. It is the
silent servant of God; the obedient messen
ger of the Supreme. That messenger comes
to us aU; keeps us where we are; holds us
by a power from which we can not escape.
How we ourselves are influenced by scenes
of nature. What power there is in a land
scape ! The lofty mountains stretching far
away; the valleys and green fields; the sol
emn forest of trees; the winding streams;
the men at work, and the cattle feeding on
the plain; the distant village with its curling
smoke; the church spire pointing to heaven;
the raflway train dashing past; the birds
gliding through the air; the children return
ing from school, — such a landscape impresses
the soul; a strange power comes over us; we
stand and look around, or sit down that we

Non-voluntary Influence. 257
may be refreshed. The flower with its sweet
perfume, and the bee that hums in its jour
ney of pleasant toU, influence us. Then
when we turn our eyes to the glorious sun
rise or the glorious sunset, we seem to
think that heaven's palace gates are opened,
and that the chiefs of eternity are coming
forth that they may spend an hour in wan
dering through the skies of time. Angels
seem to be all about us. They are sitting
in the clonds and in the sun. They fly past,
or walk, or stand still, as the case may be.
They smile upon us in the hour of peace;
their heavenly eye rests upon us in the hour
of sadness; they point upward to the great
kingdom of eternal joy.
Suppose we are standing by the shore of
the sea, and looking off upon that great
presence. What an influence reaches us !
We behold the billows as they foam and
break asunder. We hear them dash against
the rocks. The waves roU up upon the
beach, and echo as they roll. That sea is
an image of the race. It speaks to us all.
It teUs us what we are. When it is at rest,
and no wind sweeps it, it tells us of fairer
climes and a serene land. Is it night, and
17

258 Christ and his Religion.
we are looking forth into the darkness ? We
view the eternal stars as they sparkle amidst
the immense obscurity. There is silence all
about us. Our spirit is awed. Longings
that go beyond the stars, that enter into the
region of the eternities, arise in our God-
created souls. We stay not here. Our bod
ies only are here. Our immortal spirits
Spread their .wings as if to reach an infinite
realm. The sound of a waterfall as it strikes
the ear amidst the silence of our being; a
solitary tree standing after all the other trees
have been cut down; a moss-covered ruin;
a cave long and dark; the wail of the mid
night wind; a faU of snow, — these aU influ
ence the soul. Nature awakens our emotions
far more than we know.
But we wiU turn our attention to the
human side of things, that we may see
how non-voluntary influence affects us from
that quarter. Take the fact of temperament
to begin with. I suppose there are minds
that are really approaching the Eternal
Light, who yet have about them a strange
heaviness. They seem to be carrying a
burden, trembling and staggering under the
weight that bears them down. These per-

Non-voluntary Influence. 259
sons are aiming to reach heaven under
gi;eat disadvantages. The remedy of Christ
never exerts its fuU power in their soul.
It is compeUed to work in a crooked and
circuitous manner, — never going straight to
the centre of evU and laying it low. In the
midst of a mysterious sorrow, these chU-
dren of the evening wander through the
years ; hoping in Christ, yet afraid to hope ;
believing, yet always doubting. They are
puzzled and perplexed in regard to their
spiritual condition. Who can fail to see
that the piety of John Foster received a
coloring from his melancholy temperament.
He dwelt in the midst of the twilight; the
fuU-orbed sun never shining down upon
him. Professor B. B. Edwards, a man of
fine scholarship, taste, and piety, yet self-
distrustful, pensive, and marching on to the
Infinite Blessedness hampered by a hidden
pain. In the common walks of Christian
ity, many a lonely spirit is working its way
towards the great Hfe, crippled and shaded
by an unfavorable temperament. There are
sUent souls, who hide their griefs, who toil
and travel through their night of probation,
not knowing but that they may reach the

260 Christ and his Religion.
day of God at last. Herodotus mentions
" a stream which is lukewarm at early
dawn ; at the time when the market fiUs it
is much cooler; by noon it has grown quite
cold; at this time, therefore, they water
their gardens. As the afternoon advances,
the cold goes off, till, about sunset, the
water is once more lukewarm; stiU the
heat increases, and at midnight it boils furi
ously. After this time it again begins to
cool, and grows less and less hot tiU morn
ing comes. This spring is called ' the Foun
tain of the Sun.7"* The sombre and de
pressed foUowers of Christ need just such
a fountain in their heart, that with it they
may be warmed and comforted during their
cold night of exile.
There is - another class of pious men,
however, who are favored with a tempera
ment of hope and gladness. These, as com
pared with the kind just mentioned, have
a stronger faith, a lovelier love, and a view
of life and man that is more cheerful.
They seem to be making a fine passage to
the King's land. They appear to us as
heavenly vessels saihng over the sea of
* Rawlinson's "Herodotus," vol. iii., p. 131.

Non-voluntary Influence. 261
peace, the soft winds bearing them onward,
and angehc pilots steering them safely tow
ards the eternal ports of life. There is
a certain attraction about such Christians.
They make pleasant companions, joyful la
borers, encouraging speakers. " Hopeful,"
in the "PUgrim's Progress," belonged to this
class. He could see the city of God, while
Christian could not. " He had much ado
to keep his brother's head above water;
yea, sometimes he would be quite gone
down, and then, ere a while, he would rise
up again half dead. Hopeful did also en
deavor to comfort him, saying, ' Brother, I
see the gate and the men standing by to
receive us'; but Christian would answer,
'It is you, it is you they wait for; for you
have been hopeful ever since I knew you.' "
It is fair to beheve that many a death-bed
experience has been clouded, because of a
temperament that was sad; and many a
death-bed experience has been clear, be
cause of a temperament that was struck
upon the key of joy. There are Christians
of great force and activity, and Christians
who are backward and sluggish — each class
touched and turned somewhat by temper-

262 Christ and his Religion.
ament. The sanguine and the cautious are
moved upon by different influences. The
brain of one man predominates, and he
needs exercise and society. The heart of
another man is too active, and he needs
rest. Another man stiU is phlegmatic, and
he needs excitement.
It would seem almost as if there were a
kind of national temperament; as if a whole
people were modified by that strange power.
When we look at the different Christian
nations, we can see that the piety of one
differs from the piety of another. One peo
ple has feeHng in their religion, whUe an
other has thought; one has form, while an
other has freedom; one has self-denial and
sternness, whUe another has pleasure and
elasticity. It seems almost as if there were
a kind of physical temperament to the land
where each people dweUs; as if the land
itself were a man; a man of mundane
qualities; and influencing souls in a way
that is peculiar. We naturally think that
a country with mountains is conducive to
human liberty. A land, the chief part of
which is bounded by the ocean, wiU prompt
to trade, and commerce.

Non-voluntary Influence. 263
Leaving the temperaments and coming to
the appetite of hunger, it is truly wonderful
how that single appetite has influenced the
soul at every point. The inteUect, the con
science, the heart, the wUl, are aU modified
by that sense of hunger which has been
placed in the body. A certain character
has been stamped upon religion by this
strange power. The very poor and the
very rich are not usually distinguished for
great piety. It is the middle class who
have advanced Christianity in the world.
It would seem as if the religion of men
with their appetite of hunger, and the re
Hgion of the angels without that appetite,
must differ in some respects from each oth
er. "Hunger is the most powerful stimulus
to activity, and hence to the development
of the spirit, and ever since the entrance of
sin into the race, there has been no other
so sure and effectual a means of stirring up
the spirit out of its slothful indolence. In
the present state of man hunger is not only
of significance for the individual; it is a
world -historical power, the first and most
persistent stimulus to civiHzation." *
* Wuttke, " Christian Ethics," vol. ii., p. 66.

264 Christ and his Religion.
A human countenance of a certain kind may
influence us for good. The character may be
epitomized in the features. These features
may be eloquent with love and faithfulness,
and so they may impress us with great
power. We are looking at a picture, one
of the pictures of God, and divine thoughts
reach us from every part of it. Celestial
influences steal into the heart, and fashion
it in a way peculiar to themselves. We
are very often awed by a human presence;
rendered serious by it; brought to a com
plete stand by its magic power. The silent
ministry of the eye may awaken in us emo
tions of grief, pity, and courage.
The Bacchiadae, who at one time were
the governing race in Corinth, ordered ten
persons to go and put to death the infant
child of Aetion. "The men went to Petra,
and entered into Aetion's house, and there
asked if they might see the child; and Labda,
who knew nothing of their purpose, but
thought their inquiries arose from a kind
ly feeling towards her husband, brought
the child, and laid him in the arms of one
of them. Now they had agreed by the way
that whoever first got hold of the child should

Non-voluntary Influence. 265
dash it against the ground. It happened,
however, by a providential chance, that the
babe, just as Labda put him into the man's
arms, smiled in his face. The man saw the
smUe, and was touched with pity, so that
he could not kiU it; he therefore passed it
on to his next neighbor, who gave it to a
third; and so it went through aU the ten
without any one choosing to be the mur
derer. The mother received her child back,
and the men went out of the house, and
stood near the door, and there blamed and
reproached one another; chiefly however ac
cusing the man who had first had the chUd
in his arms, because he had not done as
had been agreed upon." * Surely here is
a fine instance of non- voluntary influence.
Rough men were hindered from carrying out
a murderous plan by the smile of a helpless
infant. Many a time souls are checked and
changed by agencies which, in themselves,
seem to have no value.
There is a passive side in religion which
affects us favorably. Here is a pious man
who is weak, sickly, absolutely poor, and
confined at home; yet what an influence he
* Rawlinson's "Herodotus," vol., iii., p. 244.

266 Christ and his Religion.
sends forth ! Mark his submission: no com
plaint is ever heard. He feels that he is in
the hands of Perfect Wisdom. Contentment
is the atmosphere he breathes. Peace is en
throned in his spirit. Humility clothes him
with a garment like to that of the angels.
Gentleness gives character to his whole be
ing. Reverence solemnizes his soul. Hope
causes him to be radiant with the glories
of heaven. This person does but little, says
but Httle; yet how much of holy influence
streams forth from him ! His character, tak
en in its totality, is a great power: virtue
goes out from it. He is a representative of
spiritual life, and that life travels forth on
its mission of love.
ReHgion also is shaped by laws of associa
tion. One man looks to form, color, and
circumstance; and so his reHgion is Hteral,
outward, and showy. Another man looks
to cause and effect; and his type of piety
is substantial and sanctifying. Another per-
* son fastens his eye on time and place; and
he is exact and somewhat artificial. Another
person still is affected by resemblances; and
he is imitative and superficial. The more
we penetrate into the spiritual realm, mak-

Non-voluntary Influence. 267
ing our home in the midst of the divine,
our laws of association will be finer, and
the character which they form wiU be more
finished. It was the remark of a painter
that no one could draw a tree, unless in
some sense he became a tree. It will be
very difficult for us to fashion the soul in
highest purity, if suggestions are crawling
over us from surrounding wickedness; whilst
on the other hand, if our abode is with the
Son of God we are transformed into his
Hkeness. See how non- voluntary influence works
around a good home. This is really the
moulding power in families. It is not mere
ly the direct effort that is put forth to bene
fit the young, not the rules that are laid
down with great care, not the threatening
and the penalty; but it is the spiritual atmos
phere of the household which chiefly forms
character. There is a life which comes from
the collective moral forces of the parents,
and that Hfe touches the heart and con
science of the children. The very tone of
the voice, the way of doing things, influence
the mind. There is law in such a family;
but, how does it work ? The law is a pres-

268 Christ and < his Religion.
ence, and each child is awed by it, governed
by it, and made what it ought to be by it.
This reign of law is like a sun shining for
ever; its golden light always there, in the
midst of which one may walk; growing al
ways with each moment and day as children
of Hght; the understanding and character
pure as the Hght. Living thus, the chUd is
bathed as in a celestial fountain. It ad
vances towards heaven as if guardian an
gels were ever around it. There need not
be any thing rough or fierce about law. It
may be like the dew that falls upon the
flower; like the music that falls upon the
ear; like the light that faUs upon the eye.
The law may seem like a hymn of the an
gels, chanted along the days of life; a law
made of love, covered with the white robes
of purity; a queen of righteousness throned
in the homes of men, ruling over them with
a sceptre of peace.
Many a soul is also poHshed and purified
by submitting to the painful ministry of
trouble. "Old travellers mention a wondrous
eastern tree, which by dayhght stands leaf
less and flowerless, but after sun-down puts
forth countless white blossoms, shining in

Non-voluntary Influence. 269
the darkness like the drops of a silver foun
tain." During the dark hours of life we are
to be clothed with beauty like that strange
tree. There are afflictions which startle the
spirit of man, search it, render it thoughtful,
make it humble. They affect aU the emo
tions, — the earthly, the moral, and the re
Hgious. They strike the understanding, the
reason, the imagination, and the memory.
They put in motion aspirations that were
duU, and cause them to leap towards un
bounded realities. They touch the soul at
its centre, and caU forth into the light im
ages that were wandering through darkened
naUs and sub-conscious chambers. "In the
Black Forest lies a lake, bordered deep with
HHes. As the traveUer gazes on that white
waving margin of the dark waters, he is told
that those HHes, on the last moonhghted
midnight, assumed their spirit-forms, — were
white-robed maidens, dancing on the mere;
tiU at a warning voice, they resumed, ere
daybreak, the shape of flowers." Around
every lake of bitterness are found beautiful
lilies. During the night of trial they are
transformed into angels of comfort. A legend
says that when Eve had broken the divine

270 Christ and his Religion.
command "she wept bitterly; and her tears,
which flowed into the ocean, were changed
into costly pearls, while those which fell on
the earth brought forth all beautiful flowers."
A chastened penitence is always followed by
pearls and flowers. There are souls that
sleep till a great sorrow awakes them. The
night blooming cereus, after a long growth,
sends forth its flower at night, closing it be
fore sunrise. So some men, after years of
hidden development, bloom forth in the dark
ness, and that but once. They speak their
word, or perform their act, and then depart.
Their noblest work was done during the hour
of affliction. They flourish, and then fall;
shine, and sink to be seen not again.
What an influence comes to us from death
— the death of a friend! Here there is no
life, no action, the soul even is gone, the
dead body is aU that remains; and yet there
is influence. As we look at the pale face,
the eyes closed forever, the lips that utter no
sound, there is influence. Why do we im
print the kiss on the cold cheek, and drop
the tear on the lifeless body, if there is no
influence ? Yes, there is an influence that
is tender and touching: life seems to come

Non-voluntary Influence. 271
from death. The influence of an infant that
stays with us a few days, and then dies, is
even very great. The young stranger never
spoke to us while here. It lived to a great
extent a hidden Hfe. It just began to smile,
began to detect a particular voice, and then
it died. A world of emotion, however, it
has awakened in the soul. Sleeping in its
Httle coffin, it seems more precious than
when it slept in its little cradle. Its death
is a far greater event than was its birth.
Many voices echo out of its silence; and the
darkness of death leads the mind away to a
light that is shining in a far-off land. In
passing through a forest, your attention may
be arrested by a beautiful tree, sending forth
many branches, the whole finely propor
tioned; and at the foot of it a little flower
may be seen, nestling close up beside it
as it were for protection. A terrible gale
strikes the tree, and overturns it and the
flower together. They both lie withered in
the dust. So have I seen a mother and her
infant fall by the hand of death. They were
both placed in the same coffin, laid in the
same grave, to sleep there tiU the morning
of the last great day.

272 Christ and his Religion.
0 Death! how thou hast affected men.
How many hearts thou hast broken ! Thou
hast no compassion. Thy nature is of steel,
cold and sharp. We can not plead with
thee; can use no bribe; tears soften thee
not. All men fear thee. Thou art "the
king of terrors." How we shrink from thine
approach ! We know not what thou art.
Not tiU thy icy hand is laid upon us shaU
we understand thee. We have conversed
with no ' one who has entered thine iron
gate, who has looked into eternity, and who
has come back to us again with tidings of
the viewless land. One by one, sad and
anxious, the whole race must foUow thee.
There are men who assume to care not for
thee. They are brave in their madness.
When thy shadow faUs upon them, they will
be seized with an inward trembhng. It is
not, 0 Death, that thou art going to take
the soul out of the body which so alarms
us, but it is the dread possibility that we
may be doomed forever. ShaU I be lost, or
saved ? Prepared or unprepared, I must go
when thou comest. In the very midst of a
prayer thou wilt seize me. In life I must
be ready for thee. In Christ I am safe.

Non-voluntary Influence. 273
To the pious man thou art simply the dark
entrance that leads to the palace of God.
What an influence reaches us as we walk
through a graveyard; especially a graveyard
where our acquaintances and friends are
sleeping tUl the last great day. We stand
before one grave after another; see the flow
ers that have been planted there by the
hand of affection; read the words on the
tombstones : an influence steals into the soul,
into the heart, into the most sacred place
of the heart. All the various styles of sym
bolism — the broken pillar, the cross, the
crown — impress us. Here is the sculptured
figure of a man with one hand resting upon
the stock of an anchor, and the other point
ing to heaven — we are reminded of faith and
hope. Even the grave that is marked by
no memento of any kind, affects us. All
over the silent city of the dead there are
voices eloquent with life and with love;
voices that speak to the soul, conversing
with the emotions, and with the sighs that
wander away.
Non-voluntary influence springs from the
inevitable. However much we may glorify
freedom, and however thankful we may be
18

274 Christ and his Religion.
that we are characterized by it, there is yet
a great realm that is stamped with necessity.
Events are occurring day by day which are
entirely beyond our range of power. We
see them roUing over the sea of time like
waves; as winds they sweep in aU directions;
as meteoric stones they fly through our at
mosphere. There are providential move
ments that we can not control. They come
upon us without our choice. We speak of
fate as having no existence, and yet it holds
us fast. We are bounded on every hand.
We can not extend life so as to match with
our desires. When the moment comes it
ends. Weakness and frailty can not be
banished from the earth. There is no eter
nal youth here; no gladsome joys that have
no grief; no summer loves without their
winter of care. There is a nemesis along
our path. A deity of retribution meets us.
We are in the midst of a moral system, and
out of it we can not escape. There are
phases of character that seem like nature
itself: habits of sin fixed as eternity; habits
of holiness that sway the mind forever like
the rulers of God. How inevitable also is
the soul itself. It never can die. The most

Non-voluntary Influence. 275
unhappy spirit can not annihilate itself.
Live we must forever and ever; and live
just where character places us. What won
drous influences faU upon us from the inev
itable realm !
If we lift our eyes and view the whole
world of man, trying to reaHze the exact
state of things upon this earth, it is evident
that a great river of non-voluntary influence
is moving around the globe every instant of
time, and equally evident that not one per
son in a thousand thinks of this astonishing
fact. When all the individual wills have
spent their force upon their multitude of
acts, there is away beyond these acts a
power that has resulted from them, and that
power is non- voluntary in its nature. Influ
ences are moving round us from aU quarters,
yet we can not marshal off these influences
into separate lines, and trace them back to
distinct human wUls. We are simply in the
midst of exceedingly fine potencies, but
whence they come and whither they go, we
can not tell. All we know is, that, in a
number of cases, non-voluntary influence is
a remote descendant of that which was vol
untary, — power is travelling long after the

276 Christ and his Religion.
wUl has left it, and that isolated and frag
mentary power is working upon souls in a
way that is mysterious.
Here, for instance, is a literature that has
been formed by the mind of man. That lit
erature, apart from the reading of it, and
simply by its existence, is sending forth an
influence. The mere fact that I know that
such an amount of mental force is embodied
in millions of volumes, is a power that
touches my spiritual nature. I feel as if my
consciousness were greatly extended by the
mere existence of such untold wealth. The
impression which I gain is not simply from
the few pages which I read in the course of
a Hfetime : I am affected by the simple mag
nitude of the literature itself. Here, again,
is a body that we caU the Christian Church.
An influence goes out from this Christian
Church entirely separate from the vohtions
of its different members. Viewed simply as
a commonwealth of pious men, it is impress
ing minds and hearts the world over. Even
those who have never looked upon this di
vine-human kingdom, but have learned of
its existence, are influenced as a matter of
fact. The indirect power of Christianity in

Non-voluntary Influence. 277
a world like this, is immense. It reaches us
many a time when we know it not; making
us to feel fresher than we were before, and
sending thoughts through our minds that
lead us to heaven. It seems almost as if, at
times, there were spiritual influences in the
air. We are solemnized as by some hidden
power, and walk softly as if on the borders
of the unknown land.
And then when we think of Christ during
the long centuries since he left us, it seems
as if he were still here. Surely his shadow
is walking through all the earth, and the echo
of his voice Hngers with us through aU the
years. In the busy crowd or in the deep se
clusion of our being he seems to be at our
side, uttering words of peace, or tracking
his way to the world from which he came.
In the night of our weeping he scatters the
darkness and the grief; fining our cup from
the golden goblet of his love; leaving bene
dictions to gladden us when he is gone.
There is Hfe in all" our dweUings and along
the great wastes of the sea that has come
from him. We enter no region where his
power is not felt. The perfume of his seam
less robe lingers with us all, and our steps

278 Christ and his . Religion.
are the faster because he has travelled the
same way before us. The breezes of heaven
seem to have been fanning our fevered souls
ever since he left us, and the radiance of God
has never departed from our sky during aU
the time he has been away.
Christ and Christianity are thoughts, pow
ers, pictures. They face man as beauty does;
enter into him as life enters; smile upon him
as the sun the trees of winter. There is no
exceUence that is brighter than they are, nor
any joy that equals their gladness. Our in
finite aspirations and wants, our sins and our
sadness, find in them worlds of relief. They
surely come to us from above, as if the glory
of beginningless ages were about them; their
speech the language of Eternal Goodness,
uttered to hearts that have no peace. The
silk-worm and the seraph, the flower and the
star, seem to be images of their heavenly
power.

CHAPTER XIII.
CONCEALED GREATNESS AN ADVANCED PHASE OF
THE RELIGION OF CHRIST.
r I ""HERE are three grades of pious men:
the inferior, the medium, and the supe
rior. The inferior class are struck with
feebleness. The piety seems as if it were
diseased; seems as if it were consumptive.
This low type of spiritual life is Hke the
low type of bodily life that we sometimes
witness. Here is a person who is not able
to walk; the nervous energy is gone; there
is no appetite. Sometimes a chUd is born
in such a state of weakness that it is doubtful
whether it can live. It lives, however, for
years; but that is aU. There are Christians
who seem to be just alive, and no more.
They are a kind of religious zoophites.
The medium class of pious men are those
who illustrate the common Christianity of the
day. This form of Hfe is mixed. There is
spirituality and worldHness, benevolence and

280 Christ and his Religion.
selfishness, humility and pride, faith and
unbehef, love and hatred, hope and fear,
watchfulness and carefulness, Sabbath keep
ing and Sabbath breaking, temperance and
intemperance, courage and cowardice. The
natural man fixing his eye on the dark
features of this religion is led to doubt.
We condemn all that is bad about it. Sin
can not be justified. Still we must admit
that there is goodness — only the goodness
is imperfect. The medium Christian is not
by any means satisfied with himself; he is
somewhat ashamed; and yet, it must be
confessed, he does not become much Jbetter.
At the end of forty or fifty years we very
frequently see the same inconsistent being.
Sin must be a terrible evil, that it thus
holds and hampers souls.
The superior class of pious men are the
select few. They are the men of concealed
greatness. The words that follow wiU point
them out.
"The theory of signatures proceeded on
the supposition that every creature bears,
in some part of its structure or outward con
formation, the indication of the character or
virtue inherent in it — the representation, in

Concealed Greatness. 281
fact, of its idea or soul." This is almost a
fancy. There are men, for instance, who
have a greater amount of intellectual power
than they seem to have. No index points
out their mental ability. A treasure is hid
den in the soul which no creature beholds.
We can not teU what they are by a first
acquaintance. Not even by an acquaintance
that extends over months can we understand
them. They have no inclination to dazzle,
to astonish, to overpower ; they may dazzle,
may astonish, may overpower; but to try
to do these things is not in harmony with
their minds. Inferior characters will gener
aUy make the most ado. There are too many
wise men without wisdom, too many good men
without goodness, too many great men without
greatness. It is the characteristic of a small
mind to appear greater than it is, while it is
the characteristic of a great mind to appear
smaUer than it is. A well-endowed human
spirit has compass and depth. It spreads
over years, detects causes, searches for prin
ciples. There are persons who have such a
reach of thought, and the thought is so fine
and ethereal, that only a favored few can per
ceive it. They are working out towards a

282 Christ and his Religion.
region that is seldom visited; are bordering
upon a sphere which, to a common mind, is
the same as absolute nothingness. There is
a species of intuition in some souls, a certain
divineness, as if a very bright spark of the
Infinite were Uluminating their being, and
they were shut off in a kind of royal seclusion
like stars in a new sky. Persons have ap
peared who were ahead of their age, and who
consequently were not known when they
lived. In fact many a jewel is not discovered
until it is washed upon the shores of eternity.
Only the light that is everlasting can point it
out. There are a number of things that may
cast a veU over mental greatness. The very
looks of the person may be against him. The
body is not attractive. Thought is not seen
in the countenance. The eye is not expres
sive. The forehead is not what is called in
tellectual. The sound of the voice is harsh,
and not fitted to express fine emotions. The
words may also be at fault. The style may
not have been sufficiently cultivated. Then
the individual may have a certain awkward
ness. A native bashfulness may have run
to an extreme. The manner is not at all

Concealed Greatness. 283
pleasing. In addition to these, there may
be ill health and poverty. By such means
the soul is in a state of eclipse. The real
man is not seen. It would not be strange
if he should sink in his own estimation, as
weU as sink in the estimation of others.
There are men who have a deeper flow
of piety than they appear to have. You
may mingle with a hundred individuals dur
ing a single day, and it may be difficult to
teU in what respect they differ moraUy,
though there is, in fact, a vast difference
between them. Many things are not visibly
changed by the possession of piety. You
behold the thoroughly Christian man attend
ing to his business, very much as another
man is attending to his who is not a Chris
tian. One works as hard as the other, as
long as the other, as well as the other. In
buying and selling there may be no percept
ible difference between them. Profits and
prices may be very much alike. The rise
and faU of the market, the principles of
commercial justice, a certain business judg
ment, may influence each one in the same
way; so that you can not very weU dis
tinguish the reHgious man from the one

284 Christ and his Religion.
who is not religious. The converted man
has to pay his debts in the same way that
the unconverted man has to pay his; simple
honesty belongs to both. There is a great
deal of conversation also that must be car
ried forward on the same level; so that to
hear a Christian talk in certain circumstances,
is just like hearing one talk who is not a
Christian. When a man becomes a follower
of Christ, there must be many things which,
to the outward eye, seem to be done in the
same way that they were formerly done.
The regenerated man salutes you just as he
has done for years; says good evening or
good morning with the same tone of voice.
He speaks of the weather as hot or cold,
cloudy or clear, pleasant or unpleasant, as
he has always done. He wears clothes, eats
food, lives in a house, sleeps, visits friends,
as he did before he thought any thing about
reHgion. The superficial critic may say that
Christianity is a mere name, for the man
who professes to believe in it is just like
other men. Like other men he is, in many
respects. This we wish understood. For the
want of understanding a fact so plain, there
is great confusion. Religion does not trans-

Concealed Greatness. 285
form a human being into an angel. We can
not always teU a Christian the moment we
see him, just as we can not always tell a
poet or phUosopher the moment we see him,
I do not know but that persons carry about
with them the thought that if they can not
recognize a Christian at once, then there is
nothing in Christianity. They evidently want
to see some wonderful being, a kind of sec
ond Adam, a perfect man; and because they
see no such personage they are disappointed.
" Show us a sign from heaven and we will
believe," is their demand. We have no sign
of that kind.
Let it be distinctly known that the Chris
tian is a veritable man. He struggles and
weeps, is afflicted and suffers, just like mil
Hons of other men. That there is a cura
tive element in his soul, we fully believe;
that that curative element will one day come
off triumphant, we can not deny; but the
remedy is out of sight, and the totality of
its effects can not be seen by looking on
the outside. That there is an outward sphere
where reHgion does show itself, we admit.
The test, that "by their fruits ye shaU
know them," we fully accept. The true

286 Christ and his Religion.
Christian is faithful in all the duties of Hfe.
His sound judgment makes him to act wisely;
his sound conscience makes him to act just
ly; his sound heart makes him to act lov
ingly. There is a vast range of duty to
which he attends. Every faculty and every
principle of action are stronger. There are
not so many crosses to be carried. Habits
of hohness have been formed; and so there is
a kind of divine ease and pleasantness in act
ing them out. The outward Hfe viewed from
a human stand -point, is to a great extent
blameless. Speech is weU-guarded; a no
ble truthfulness touches every thing; obedi
ence has become somewhat natural. Instead
of being unable to do good, the person
finds himself unable to do evU. Apart,
however, from objective goodness, there is
a subjective realm where spiritual character
is in process of formation; and although the
eye of sense can not see the greatness of
the work that is going on there, yet it is
just as certain as the building up of coral
reefs in the depths of ocean. "The kingdom
of God cometh not with observation." One
can not say, " Lo here! or, lo there! the
kingdom of God is within you."

Concealed Greatness. 287
"What any one means," says Dr. Whichcote,
"is rather his action than what he does; for
in what he means he hath absolute power, it
is whoUy his own; in what a man doth, he
may be Hable to engagements and force.
Therefore we say the mind of a good man is
the best part of him, and the mind of a bad
man is the worst part of him; because the
one hath more good in his heart than he can
perform; the other more evU in his heart
than he can execute."* The inward Chris
tian is not to be judged by principles of sen
sationalism. Sound does not sound him.
SUence many a time is a better exponent
of his character. He acts as weU as others,
speaks as weU as others; but aside from out
ward activity however good, there is a world
of piety that can not be seen. We know
nothing of the heart-repentings, the inward
struggles that are put forth to gain the vic
tory over self, the longing for the pure and
the divine. There is frequently a delicacy
of soul that we are not aware of, — the out
ward symboHsm of Hfe not being sufficient
to set it forth. What do we know, by
merely looking at the outside, of that, fine
* "Aphorisms," p. 251.

288 Christ and his Religion.
taste for holiness, — the soul alive to the least
touch of sin, and the utter pain and grief
when sin has been committed? You can
behold the sun and the clouds, the waving
trees and passing men, reflected on the face
of a stream; but the great world of emotion
does not show its image in the eye, or paint
its Hkeness on the countenance. How can I
telL by looking at a human being, of those
aspirations that travel around the universe,
that run far upward to the throne of God,
that centre themselves on him who sits upon
that throne? The strong faith that has no
wavering is an invisible reality, and the
bright hope which beckons the spirit away
to its rest is the hidden angel of the heart.
There are fine spirits whose goodness is
shaded by a cloud of sorrow. They pass
through life, and are never seen as they
are. They leave us, only to be known in
a better land. The Lord has many hidden
ones in a world Hke this. He sees them
where wicked men see them not. Passed
aside they may be; despised and put to
death they may be;, but they are sons of
God none the less. There are streams of
benevolence which bless many a soul; but

Concealed Greatness. 289
whose source no one ever beholds. There
are plans of goodness so divine, that frigid
people pronounce them to be unwise. There
is an exactness in duty which receives the
name of contractedness, and an attachment
to principle so unwavering that the person
who manifests it is caUed stubborn.
We are not sufficiently subjective in our
estimates of character. Currents of Hfe may
be flowing through the soul, which to us
are unknown; but not unknown to God.
These currents of life may turn many a
wheel of power, ending in great blessings
to men. They may start trains of thought
of infinite value; produce emotion that may
give character and point to a whole dis
course ; develop a spiritual tendency that
may not be lost for years; inspire a course
of action that may tell upon the destiny
of thousands. The course of action which
comes to the Hght may be all that we see,
and we may found our judgment altogether
upon that; but in the depths of the soul
the chief power has been at work, and no
human eye beholds it. Only the Divine
Being can truly estimate character, because
aU that is inward and all that is outward
19

290 Christ and his Religion.
stands present to his view. There is no
man who has done a great work for the
race but who has had his hours and days
of thought and planning. The most intense
action was that which no eye looked upon.
The writing of a single paragraph or a sin
gle sentence may be the result of a holy
fire from God, yet in regard to the exist
ence of that holy fire the wisest man may
not have the least thought.
We speak of success as if that were wholly
founded upon consequences. A man may
be an eternal failure, although his footsteps
glitter with gold and his words sparkle with
knowledge. Many a man is honored, be
cause favored circumstances connect them
selves with his life as if they grew out of
it; while many a one is dishonored, because
unfavorable circumstances go before him as
if they were his own dark shadow,. " One
of the kings of Persia, possessing a ring set
with a valuable jewel, went once on a party
' of pleasure with some of his particular asso
ciates to Mussula Shiraz, and ordered that
they should fix the ring on the dome of
Asud, with a proclamation that whoever
shot an arrow through the circlet of it

Concealed Greatness. 291
should have the ring. It chanced that there
were at that time four hundred experienced
archers attending him, whose arrows all
missed: but as a boy was playing on the
terrace roof of the monastery, and shooting
his arrows at random, the morning breeze
conducted one of them through the ring.
The prize was bestowed on him, together
with other rich gifts."* In this case it was
Providence that succeeded, yet the boy re
ceived the prize. The experienced archers,
though they faUed, were really more suc
cessful than that fortunate youth. A person
who is ignorant of the theory and practice
of medicine may gain the credit of curing a
dangerous disease, when it was nature itself
that did the work. That man is the most
successful in the divine kingdom who sets
in motion the greatest amount of spiritual
power for the glory of God, whatever may
be the opinions or rewards of faUen mortals.
Whether in sohtude one tofls and travails,
or in the midst of the busy crowd he strives
to elevate and to save, his success is to be
measured by a divine rule which looks to
holy thought, holy action, and holy charac-
• Sheik Saadi, "The Gulistan Or Rose Garden," p. 253.

292 Christ and his Religion.
ter. One may spend a great part of his
Hfe in examining the Greek article and the
Greek prepositions, and yet by that unap
preciated labor he may be quite successful
in the sight of Heaven. The variety of work
in the system of God is well nigh infinite,
and he who attends to any part with wisdom
and a pure heart is successful. He may be
working deep down at the foundation where
few care to go, or he may be finishing the
audience room of the great temple of Je
hovah, — in either case, if he is doing his
best, he is successful. It is not so much
the kind of labor, as it is the way of doing
it, which gives one character. An angel
sent from the courts of God to minister to
a dying prisoner, may be doing as great a
work as if he had been called to be one of
the chief speakers in the congregation of
heaven. There are professors in our institu
tions of learning who are concentrating their
power upon a few young men, and by that
means doing more for truth and the kingdom
of God than many a popular preacher who
speaks to thousands. Many a great mind
has sowed the seed, and cared for it tiU it
was weU nigh ripe, — then a smaU mind has

Concealed Greatness. 293
cut down the harvest, receiving the praise.
We may ascertain on the last great day that
some pious monk of the dark ages has really
done more for the race, than some notable
personage whom good men love to honor.
It is not place and praise and wealth which
estabhsh the fact of success, but it is divine
toU and a divine life. "It is said of one of
the ancient painters, that although he be
stowed immense labor on every one of his
productions in the fine arts, he always gave
them away; and being asked the reason of
it, he replied, ' They are above aU price.' "
Yes, every form of mental greatness and
every deed of love are above aU price. It is
a very difficult thing to weigh souls. A child
that Hves its pure Hfe, and then dies, may
accomphsh more than the titled rehgionist
who reaehes the age of three score and ten.
Merit is success. It is itself a good. God
sees it if man does not. A thought that has
in it worlds of meaning, an act that will
brighten in its results forever, a piece of
work that seems to reach the ideal of the
angels, a prayer that is nothing but prayer,
a tear Hke that which feU from the eye of
the Son of God — aU these are successful.

294 Christ and his Religion.
Merit is the coin that passes in Heaven. It
is stamped with immortahty. It has the im
print of eternal youth. Merit knows noth
ing of shame, for it is beauty itself. It can
never be discouraged, for its foundation is
truth. Our exact value in the scale of cre
ation is our merit. Just to the extent that
we increase our well-being, just to that ex
tent do we increase our worth. Every man,
however, is to be judged by the use which he
is to the system of God. Paul and Pascal
did more for" the race than for themselves.
To reach out with a kind of omnipresence
of excellence is to show our divine lineage.
There is a marked difference between the
outward and the inward Christian. The one
fastens upon appearances, loves the sense
element, prefers the fire to the stiU small
voice, is charmed too easUy by windy ac
tion and eloquence. The other demands
substance rather than show, delights in that
which is spiritual, feels that quiet and solemn
emotion is the most godlike. The piety that
is inward has greater volume and tone than
any other. It sinks down and touches the
most secret part of our nature. It has what
may be caUed the principle of far-reaching-

Concealed Greatness. 295
ness. The subjective Christian lives at a
distance from himself, and so he Hves near
to God. He is out of sight of the common
run of disciples; they being far too much
their own foUowers. Having pitched his tent
hard by the gate of heaven, its glories reach
him. The period of doubt with him has
come to an end: there is simple trust. He
has taken God at his word. Hope is un
clouded, and the night is gone. Love is Hke
a sun at noon.
An experience of this kind is of the
greatest value. Life wiU never be what it
should be without it. The soul will always
be anxious, fear will always trouble, until
assurance has the ascendency. When the
favored time has come, there wUl be joy
such as was never known before. The
chains that have held the spirit captive wUl
be broken. The steps are quick and light
some. The religion of God has become the
reHgion of man. There is a fine spirit of
submission. This submission, however, does
not mean that the finite is lost in the Infinite;
neither does it mean that the will and the
feelings are annihilated, leaving nothing but
the clear reason to gaze upon the Deity. It

296 Christ and his Religion.
is not stoicism making man a piece of iron;
not mysticism making man a piece of God.
Christian submission implies that the mind
yields itself up in holy acquiescence to the
Perfect One. Let circumstances be what
they may, the soul is satisfied. The real
circumstances are those that are spiritual.
That character is never complete which
is moulded mainly by outside forces. I care
not how active one may be. He may be
the model of all that is wanted in the com
mon walks of Hfe. StiU if he is led on by
nothing but simple observation and visibil
ity, he is not a truly developed person.
He may be caUed by those around him a
practical man, and may accomplish a great
deal in his day and generation, but mere
practicality is not sufficient. I am weU
aware that at the present time this style
of Hfe is much thought of. I have no
doubt, however, that the great majority of
men need a large infusion of the ideal ele
ment. This will not make the practical less.
It wiU rather give it more real strength.
Is there not a tendency just now, a very
strong tendency, to see nothing but facts?
Is not reason sinking out of sight, because

Concealed Greatness. 297
of the pressure of mere events that are nar
rated? The periodical Hterature of the day
is developing a new form of mind: a form
of mind that simply drinks in statements that
are made; the argumentative, and the ideal
not being cared for. There is danger that
men wiU become mere utihtarians. Every
thing has to be weighed and measured;
every thing has to be counted off and the
price told. I am very much afraid that
our whole church Hfe has received a color
ing from this low sensational philosophy. All
is so attractive because it can be seen and
heard and talked about. The more we take
up with this Hfe that nourishes itself with
observation, practice, and mere chronichng,
the more do we sink Christianity into nat
uralism. Before we are aware of it, we
shaU have nothing but a system of pale mo
rahty. The Christian religion has its glory
and value because it has both an ideal and
a factual basis: it takes in the absolute and
the conditioned, the seen and the unseen.
It runs on with the highest and noblest phi
losophy that the world has ever known. It
has to do with the deepest emotions of our
nature'. It Hnks itself with the loftiest as-

298 Christ and his Religion.
pirations of the soul. It carries forward the
man by an energy which is back of simple
nature; an energy which comes from the one
supernatural Being of the universe. There
is nothing empirical in that higher life which
saturates and satisfies God - directed souls.
What we want just now is a more pro
found Christian consciousness, a deeper re
demptive experience. We do not wish men
to do less, but we wish them to exercise more
their entire mental nature, to feel more the
great verities of being, to enjoy more the
regal blessedness of salvation.
I would have men to be in Christ, united
to God by a divine life; and then, entering
into their own spirits, commune there with
eternal and infinite thoughts. I would have
them to see that there is a vast world of
being within, far greater and better than
that which meets the eye of each chUd of
the world. I would have no man to rest
satisfied till he comes into contact with the
far-reaching convictions of the human spirit;
convictions which point the mind away to
another sphere than this; to other objects
than those that belong to time. No man
has waked up to a consciousness of his ex-

Concealed GreAtness. 299
istence who has not been moved and carried
away by emotions deep with eternal signifi
cance, by passions that are clearly limit
less in their nature, by aspirations that run
out to a timeless Being, and by groanings
unutterable which human language can nei
ther measure nor define, which nevertheless
have a language of their own, a soul-speech
giving hints of the First Fair, the Perfect
One, the Absolute Good. Our Christian Hfe
wUl always be weak and wayward until we
have more of this internal element. It wUl
never have breadth and sweep without this.
The experience wiU always be commonplace
and somewhat secular. There wUl be no heav-
ings of soul which are solemn and sad because
of vast conceptions in the mind.
I must say that I love to see an experi
ence so deep that it has something of the
indefinite about it. I mind it not if the ideal
teaching carries one away into a sphere that
is dim because of its magnitude, and even
because of its brightness. I am pleased
when I see creaturely spirits looking down
the eternal deeps of heaven, and beholding
clouds of glory measureless to man roUing
away in their passage to God. I find a

30o Christ and his Religion.
charm in the grandeur of eternal and in
finite mysteries. I have no great sympathy
for that which is merely limited. Simple
rationahsm I do not want. It is too narrow
and frigid for a soul that was made for eter
nity and God. I think there is something
better than that which we can see; some
thing better than that which we can know.
I can not be satisfied with mere facts, how
ever good and however true they may be.
There is a kingdom of truth which exists
before any of the facts of time, and but for
which the facts would have no meaning.
There is a great archetypal world made
and furnished by the Supreme Mind. I
would have men live there more than they
do. Life wiU never be grand and divine
unless it is started and guided by celestial
ideals. The thought of a law that is eternal
and that admits of no change; of a holiness
so pure that no sin can ever touch it; of a
spiritual beauty that far exceeds the exter
nal beauty of the universe; of a scene of
order that is only realized in the Godhead;
of a blessedness that is without any Hmita-
tion, — these conceptions enlarge the soul and
give power to its Hfe.

Concealed Greatness. 301
We are not to be dazzled by a showy
materiahsm. The greatest powers in the
universe are invisible. God is greater than
he appears to be. We need more of an in
ward meditative Hfe. Outward rush and
outward goodness are taking the place of
deep and holy thoughtfulness. Are men not
beginning to love that piety which has the
covering of earthliness thrown over it ? The
covering may be fine or coarse as the taste
requires. It may be ornamented with gold
or silver, or it may be plain. Still the earth
liness is there none the less. Unless I am
greatly mistaken, there is a wisdom floating
about which can be caUed by no other name
than tact and compromise, — the attempt to
sweeten the gospel and make it palatable by
encouragements given to ease, and flatteries
paid to pride. It does seem as if the phi
losophy of making men pleased with them
selves had reached its utmost limit, and there
was need of continuous waves of truthful
ness to wash them upon some rock, that
there they may see themselves as they are.
I wish men to be wiser and better than they
appear to be. I would do nothing to in
crease a fictitious life, but I would do much

302 Christ and his Religion.
to help forward that kind of piety which
like an artesian weU is ever streaming forth,
while its deep fountain is never seen. I
am glad that there are retiring natures who
stay with us for a season and then pass away,
whose greatness is never known. They seem
like strangers tarrying with us during the
short day of our toil, and when the sun
goes down they disappear. The beauty of
their soul we saw not as they went about
with us. Gleams of greatness streamed forth
from them as they were departing, and we
think of them now as being lofty and lovely
in another land. There are scholarly and
Christian minds who never find this world
just the place that they want. The flower
that is planted here never grows with free
dom. Its beauty wUl only be seen in the
climes of God. I think the Saviour is the
ideal and representative of our theme. How
much of hidden greatness he possessed !
There was no rule by which he could be
measured, no scales by which he could be
weighed. His thoughts only reached us Hke
the travelling echoes of God. They seemed
Hke the harmonies of glory that were dying
away as they went along the eternal years.

CHAPTER XIV.
BLESSEDNESS AS FLOWING FROM THE RELIGION
OF CHRIST.
A LTHOUGH happiness is not the ulti
mate good, yet unless that which is
called the ultimate good ends in happiness,
we may well look upon it with suspicion.
We have a right to judge of the religion
of Christ by its tendency to produce joy.
If its natural and necessary result is misery,
or if it generates less joy than some other
form of life, we may safely condemn it. The
case, however, is as near to self-evidence as
any one could wish, that religion and bless
edness go hand in hand.
I. Blessedness from right Emotion.
There is nothing within the whole com
pass of mind that is higher than religious
emotion; nothing that produces such an ex
alted happiness. The leading faculties, the
great truths, the divine persons, all seem to

304 Christ and his Religion.
work together in the formation of pure feel
ing and pure joy. However much a person
may have been captivated with inferior pleas
ures during the days of his worldliness, he
now, when a Christian, perceives that the
chief blessedness is found in pious emotion.
He realizes the truthfulness of the Bible
statement: "To be spirituaUy minded is
life and peace." This is life in the highest
sense, including within itself all good, and
that forever; and the peace that belongs to
it is that divine repose, called by the sig
nificant name " the peace of God."
What joy springs from the sense of free
dom. The simple fact that the wiU, which
has been held to a course of disobedience
for years, is now made obedient — that is
blessedness. A new channel of joy has been
opened by this means around the soul.
Wherever the liberated will goes, there goes
with it an exalted pleasure. The very sound
of its footsteps is happiness, and the beating
of its pulse of life is joy. The vast num
ber of original acts of goodness that have
appeared since the wiU was delivered from
its bondage, and the host of sins that have
been trampled under foot since the same

Blessedness. 305
redemptive moment, awaken a multitude of
pleasant emotions. There are habits of
righteousness which maintain a sohd peace,
and pure states of soul that are instinct
with joy. Passions and propensities do not
master the wiU as formerly. The power of
holy necessity is felt to a certain extent,
and this composes the mind.
Love itself is joy. It is doubtful whether
.there is another feeling of the soul which,
in its movement, is so much like happiness
as love. To say that we love the good, is
to say that we dehght in it. If an object
pleases me, I have an affection for it: if I
have an affection for an object, it pleases
me. Love, then, is blessedness; from its na
ture it forms a heaven. And inasmuch as
it takes in the highest excellency, and is
reaUy the most comprehensive feeHng of
the soul, it furnishes a joy that is ineffable.
"Desire and delight," says John Howe, " are
but two acts of love, diversified only by the
distance or presence of the same object:
which, when 'tis distant, the soul, acted and
prompted by love, desires, moves towards
it, pursues it; when present and attained,
delights in it, enjoys it, stays upon it, sat-
20

306 Christ and his Religion.
isfies itself in it, according to the measure
of goodness it finds there. Desire is there
fore love in motion; delight is love in rest." *
Whatever may be the kind of love that is
exercised, it is embosomed in happiness.
Let one be grateful for a favor received,
inclined to love the giver more than the
gift, in such a case there is joy. To be in
a constant state of thankfulness is to be con
stantly happy. If a feeling of holy sympa--
thy is exercised, that sends vibrations of
pleasure through the heart; and if the soul
goes forth in universal good-will, it has a
divine joy. If our kindness extends to those
who hate us, forgiving and blessing at the
same time, we have a wealth of happiness.
We should bring ourselves to that point
in our spiritual history when religious emo
tion shall, so to speak, engross our atten
tion. There is a vast number of things
connected with our earthly condition, which
will be stripped from us the moment we
leave the body. It is surely not wise to
allow these mundane characteristics to grasp
the immortal spirit. When the ransomed
soul enters eternity it wUl be compeUed to
• "Blessedness of the Righteous," chap. iv.

Blessedness. 307
face pure emotion, that being the prime
reality. If delight is not found in that, it
wiU not not be found anywhere. In a state
of marked singleness the naked spirit shall
Hve in the region of mind; each hour as it
passes making the life of emotion the one
life. We should test and try ourselves while
here, in order to see whether our chief de
light is found in simple spiritual reahties.
Although the Christian soul whUe in the
body has many material interests which
occupy its attention, and many things which
tend to render doubtful the supremacy of
the religious principle, yet when that soul
is freed from its prison, it wUl hasten to
God by the force of spiritual gravitation,
the ascendency of hohness showing itself
at once. In the region of souls matter wiU
be nothing: mind "with its goodness and
blessedness wiU be aU.
"It is not in that he is a man," says
Aristotle, "that any one enjoys this life,
but in so far as there is any thing divine in
him." That soul which has the greatest
amount of the divine will have the greatest
amount of holy emotion and blessedness.
When we take into consideration the as-

308 Christ and his Religion.
cending scale of finite minds throughout
the universe, the highest minds must differ
exceedingly from the lowest in the quality
of fineness. Some natures may have such
deheacy about them, such divinity, that
their ,enjoyment is far beyond any thing
that we can imagine. There may be minds
which from the very beginning of their
history spring forth into unwonted excel
lence, and during all their upward course
Hve in a region of joy that is far beyond
any that we can ever experience. They
are cut out of such fine material, formed
as it were of the life and radiance of God,
that they seem to live in a divine sphere, the
nearest to the Deity of any of the creatures
that he has ever made. Great volumes of
love and gladness move across their being,
as if the pulsations of God thrilled them,
and as if his beatitudes went through their
soul, furnishing a joy that is unspeakable
and fuU of glory.
II. Blessedness from right Activity.
The soul was evidently designed for ac
tion. It is always occupied. Even during
hours of what we call idleness, it is not

Blessedness. 309
idle. It is thinking about this or that, feel
ing about this or that. We can not make
the soul not to act. It wiU keep working
whatever we may do. The mind has con
tents and materials of its own; and these it
wiU use when it can find nothing else to
use. The imagination wiU be forming its
ideas into new shapes; building castles one
hour, and demohshing them the next. The
law of association is intensely active. Deeds
long forgotten are remembered, and emo
tions once felt are felt over again. It is
astonishing how the mind will work. It
is assuredly a power; a force acting for
ever. If we watch men we can see they have
the consciousness that joy comes from activ
ity. They wiU teU you that they always
feel the happiest when they are doing some
thing. If they have no special work on
hand, they will invent that which wiU take
the place of it. They wUl start some amuse
ment, will converse with each other, wiU
visit, will rush off into what is caUed pleas
ure, wiU read the news of the day, wiU
dream and plan and hope as fancy dictates.
Let thinking be of the right character and

310 Christ and his Religion.
carried to the right extent, and a very
sweet peace will be the result of it. Let
the wiU be the faithful executive of the
soul, governing and guiding aU its move
ments in the way of righteousness, and as
a matter of certainty the purest kind of joy
wUl settle down upon it. Let any man
spend a whole day in working for God,
self-forgetful during all that time, and, as a
consequence, happiness must come to the
soul like the Sabbath of heaven. The very
light as it darts through space seems to be
happy. The stars sparkle in the evening
sky with gladness. The planets wheel their
way without any jar as if they were the
chariots of God. The great systems jour
ney onward forever, peace bearing them
company in their march. AU these seem
to image forth that joy which comes to
active souls.
When we speak of the activity of man,
that may mean less or more, according as it
is moderate or rapid. If the joy is to be
rich, there must be great force about the ac
tivity. If the mind is profoundly occupied
with the most exalted themes, and intent
upon the highest style of weU-doing, the

Blessedness. 311
blessedness will be both great and pure.
If there is nothing but a species of medi
ocrity about the soul's movements, the joy
wiU partake of that quality. To an un
critical observer, every thing about the
mind and the man may seem to be in good
condition; there may be a tangibleness and
pleasantness connected with all that is done;
but the difficulty may be that the action is
too feeble, and the joy too insipid in its
quahty. Christian knowledge and Christian
life may be so popularized that they will
neither have heights nor depths about them.
Viewing thought and character, however, as
two great activities, they must sweU out into
living mountain ranges, forming, in fact, pal
aces, cathedrals, and mansions of Hfe in the
soul, and not the mere level plains of good
ness and peace. There are surely phUo-
sophic and saintly eminences where the soul
may have fore-tastes of heavenly glory, and
where ineffable joys are felt as they could
be felt nowhere else. The total activity of
the average Christian mind has not sufficient
power and compass, and the joy has not
that celestial flavor which should always
characterize it. When good souls strike out

312 Christ and his Religion.
upon their march in the great kingdom of
eternity, what a volume of power they wiU
call into exercise, and how divine the bless
edness as they sweep along the infinite
spaces of life ! The joy of heavenly minds
wiU resemble the joy of God; there being
no motion of pain during aU the passage of
endless time. Saved men wiU have entered
upon a new and wondrous Hfe; the entire
soul wUl thriU with power; the highest form
of benevolence will be exercised; and a
happiness will be enjoyed that reaches the
true standard of excellence.
III. Blessedness from right Passivity.
There is such a thing as righteous being as
weU as righteous doing. For instance, to be
humble, — how much of peace that brings to
the soul ! Then to be gentle and meek,
amiable and quiet, uncomplaining and teach
able, — what a wealth of character is found in
these holy states of mind, and how pure the
repose which results from them! Indeed,
when one thinks of the matter, he is led to
decide that passive goodness is the very sub
stratum and heart of aU true peace. A per
son who is chiefly active, having but a smaU

Blessedness. 313
amount of passive spirituality, is not a true
man, neither does he have that volume of joy
which belongs to the weU-balanced mind.
There are times when we wish to be let
alone, wish to be quiet; and during such
seasons we seem to be bathed in a heavenly
fountain of peace. The moments ghde away
as if they were the echoes of God, and the
angels seem to converse with us in the lan
guage of souls.
There are fine, serene days when we want
to sit down upon the bank of a stream and
watch it as it flows by us, looking at the
scenery around, and feeling quite happy with
all that we behold. The very idea of rest
seems to bring along with it the idea of quiet
ness. Noise disturbs us; as if we wanted to
dwell in a serene land; far away from the
tumults of Hfe; at peace with God with noth
ing to annoy. We love a quiet Sabbath day,
as if with such a day we come near to the
rest that we need. How saintly men have
calmly wondered at the life of Christ ! The
beauty of that life; its freedom from all wUd-
ness; the praying through the long night; the
gentle speech to children and men; the mys
terious sorrow that always hung around him;

314 Christ and his Religion.
his sweet submission; his strange death, —
how aU these affect us and soften us just
by putting ourselves in a line with them !
Men who have toiled for years at some
calling think of a time when they shall re
tire from business. They are thus feeling
round for the quiet joy which they need.
.There is a craving in aU souls for repose;
and they shaU never be well till they find
it. They keep dreaming about it; having an
inkling of the place where it dweUs. We
think of men reaching home after a long
absence, of the sick gaining health when the
balmy days of spring are come, of the per
secuted finding peace, and the dying Chris
tian finding rest in the bosom of God. When
we see a ship anchored in a quiet bay after
a stormy passage, we think of the joy that
comes to souls in a region of calmness and
silent life.
Surely there is a time when the healthy
mind can rest. I can not think that we were
' made simply for ceaseless labor, — under the
stretch and strain of eternal toU. There is a
passive season of great enjoyment, when the
beatitudes of glory circulate through our
whole being, and no want disturbs us during

Blessedness. 315
-the passage of the silent hours. We seem to
«nter into the rest of God, and the peace that
passeth all understanding comes to the soul.
The great difficulty with the human spirit
upon earth is, that we can not stop and look
into it with any degree of comfort. We only
become conscious of our unhappiness and sin
when we try to live in the soul. Hence nien
rush into outward activities, keep the mind
fixed upon them, finding in that way that
they lose sight of the unrest of the soul.
Now, surely, this can not be the right way.
I must reach a point when I can feel hap
py in communing with my own spirit. I
must be able to look into every chamber, go
through every haU, try and test every part
of my nature, and find that happiness meets
me wherever I go and wherever I stay.
The idea that I must steadily gaze at
some outward object, as the only way to
escape from inward misery, is a fearful
thought. This is mere deception; simply
Hving in the midst of the unreal. The soul
must be cured: then to look into it wiU be a
sweet joy. The men who are in Heaven are
not men who have to turn the wheels of
action eternaUy, in order to enjoy peaceful

316 Christ and his Religion.
emotions. They can abate during some di
vine hour. They can face themselves dur
ing that hour. They can see and feel that
all is right within. Resting in the midst of
finished being, they can find rest.
IV. Blessedness from the Attainment of
a right End.
The insects that play in the air on a sum
mer's day seem to be happy. We naturaUy
think that they have reached some end, and
as a consequence of it are touched with joy.
When we walk through a garden and see the
flowers that are smiling there, and catch the
sweet perfume that fills the surrounding air,
we have an impression that these flowers have
attained a distinct end, and so in their own
way they are in a state of peace. A tree that
is full of blossoms, and by and by is full of
fruit, we look upon as an image of a good
soul, and can not help thinking that that tree
has a kind of native gladness about it. The
birds that come to us in the spring and stay
with us through all the summer, have a cer
tain round of duties which they perform in
that time, and in all that round of duties they
evidently have a great deal of pleasure.

— Blessedness. 317
They attend to their young with wonderful
care; and when they have moments of rest,
they sing most sweetly the hymn which God
taught them. The bee that toils so faithfuUy,
must also be toUing pleasantly. Having found
the treasure that it wants, it rests.
What a fine consciousness one has when
he reahzes that the great question of Hfe is
settled. The soul has committed itself into
the hands of the Infinite Redeemer. It is
now set for an eternal Hfe by aU the steadi-*
ness of an absolute choice. Comprehending
this state of things, there is peace. A heavy
burden has dropped off from the soul : there
is the feeHng of rehef. One seems to him
self as if he had just begun to Hve. The
nightmare of life is gone. The void of the
soul is partly filled. The whole nature seems
to feel the effect of the great change, as if
spring had suddenly come after the long win
ter, and the golden day after the night of
darkness. Throughout aU the city of the
soul there is joy. The beUs ring. The
sound of pleasant music falls upon the ear.
Prayer ascends and praise. God listens and
loves. A divine benediction comes down
upon the soul. "I was so happy," says

318 Christ And his Religion.
Bogatzky, "that I would have been wilHng
to remain shut up in my closet during life,
provided I could frequently enjoy such sea
sons. A true Hght sprang up in my soul,
and I then learned that Christianity was
something living, powerful, blessed, and al
together different from the world's notion
of it." *
There is the joy which connects itseh* with
pardon. To realize that the coUective sins
of the past are gone, is most blessed. To
feel that as far as law is concerned, we are
toe same as if we had always kept it; that
the angels in heaven are not more secure
than the justified soul, — to feel thus is hap
piness. To accept of the entire Salvation of
the Godman is to enter into joy, very much
as if one had entered into heaven. Not only
is the past emptied of its sin, but the future
is emptied of its terror. As memory looks
back, it is soothed with the balm of life : as
conscience looks forward, it is calmed by the
Peacemaker of men. Faith and Hope go
hand in hand through the journey of time:
the One quieting the soul in the midst of the
* Hagenbach, "Hist, of the Church in the 18th and 19th cent
uries," vol. i., p. 137.

Blessedness. 319
storm — the other pointing with the finger to
the open gates of heaven.
Whenever we undertake any great work,
and persevere till it is finished, we in such
a case feel happy. If we have labored for
months to lead a man to Christ, and finally
he trusts himself in the hands of that great
person, we are fuU of joy. If in spite of
much opposition we have been able to start
an organization that will benefit the bodies
and souls of men, we are dehghted. If we
have conquered a leading sin, or have bro
ken up some vicious habit, we are happy in
the attainment of such an end. If by skiU
and industry we have saved a sufficiency of
money upon which to Hve, and now during
the remainder of Hfe can simply work for
God, — an end so good as that wUl be ex
ceedingly pleasant. If we have written a
book after years of labor, and that book
will bless men when we are dead, there is
much joy in the reahzation of such an end.
When Dr. Adam Clarke had finished his
commentary on the Bible, he added these
words : —
"Like travellers, "when they see their native soil,
Writers rejoice to terminate their toil."

320 Christ and his Religion.
If I set out to visit a country that I have
never seen, but by reason of some catastro
phe I never reach it, I am disappointed and
grieved. If I enter upon a branch of busi
ness, but faU in it because men have de
ceived and defrauded me, I can not be
pleased. Even if I have a great thought
that is shaded with uncertainty, I am trou
bled. If I have longings of soul that are
not met by a suitable object, I am unhappy.
I can see that my nature craves something
of infinite moment, and if that something
is not found I am restless. If my soul is
always burdened, feverish, and faint, I have
not reached the great end. Joy is simply
the bright conclusion of goodness: grief is
simply the dark conclusion of sin.
There is a seeming pleasure which may arise
from an end that was supposed to be within
our reach. The soul is in the midst of a
dream. While the dream lasts, all appears
real. The person may seem to himself to
be saUing down a beautiful stream, expect
ing to reach his home at the close of the
day. The banks are covered with verdure.
Flocks of sheep are feeding upon the sides
of the hills. Quiet viUages are seen here

Blessedness. 321
and there in the distance. Hard by are the
ruins of an ancient city, and an artist is
sketching the scene from the top of a rock.
Birds of gay plumage are flying around.
Groups of men, women, and chUdren, are
seated in the midst of a grove, and a psalm
of praise Hke to that which they sing in
heaven faUs upon the ear. An extended
highway stretches onward, along which hap
py companies are wanting. The sun has
passed its noon. The heat scorches not.
The air is pleasant. The person is stiU saU
ing down the stream. A cloud covers the
sky. The wind blows. A mighty cataract
is at hand. Down that the man is swept.
He is lost; lost in the midst of a dream.
Whenever we reach the permanent we rest.
There are few things that so impress the
mind in regard to the present state, as the
fact of change. Nothing seems to abide.
We Hve upon the surface of a decayed
world. The perishable is inscribed upon it,
and upon the heavens that are over it.
There is a fickleness in the hopes, wishes,
and opinions of men. We demand that
which is fixed. Eternal truth, — how the
soul can buUd upon it! An immutable
21

322 Christ "AnTd Ms Religion.
promise,-^-how comforting to the troubled
mind! The everlasting God,— -how the trust
ing spirit can rest on him ! Unchanging
goodness, — how it satisfies the soul! Only
that which is at rest can give rest. The
true and the divine have a peace of their
own, and so they quiet the mind.
If we attain to the beautiful in Christian*
ity, there is peace. The happiness which
springs from this source does not seem to
be boisterous: it is father tranquUizing in
its nature; The texture of it is fine and fin
ished. We can Say that the soul is pleased ;
that a sweet composure has Settled down
upon it; that a divine serenity spreads over
it. Purity of heart is not dazzling, but
chaste and refined.
V. Blessedness from a right State of
Oneness. Every inteUig§nt person knows what pleas
ure there is in finding a principle that wiU
unite a number of apparently contradictory
things. SimpHcity and pleasure are con
nected with the study of trees and flowers,
because so many of them can be reduced
to one leading characteristic. It is the same

Blessedness.- 323
with the study of the animal creation. There
appears to be no end to the variety of beasts,
birds, insects, and fishes ; yet they are all
classified according to a few simple princi
ples. As to the human race with aU their
differences of color, form, language, and lo
cation, we yet find that " God has made
of one blood aU nations that dweU upon the
face of the earth." In fact aU theological
and philosophical systems are feeHng round
for a principle of unity. The mind is eager
to escape from confusion and disharmony.
What a wonderful manifestation of single
ness is the law of gravitation: no particle
of matter free from its power. The dust
that enters the infant's eye and the most
distant planet that saUs in sohtude through
space, alike governed by this one principle.
What a reHef also to the serious mind that
wherever we look and wherever we go, we
simply find one God. The satisfaction we
thus have when we reach oneness, shows
how weU it suits our nature.
Let the soul be in a state of oneness with
itself, and it wUl as matter of course feel
happy. As the Christian man struggles to
overcome pride and selfishness, evil thoughts

324 Christ and his Religion.
and mahcious feelings, he approaches unity.
The effort to bear up under the trials of Hfe,
to be quiet in the midst of provocation, to
resist the tempting influences of a day, pre
pares the soul for that pure state which ends
in peace. Every holy action performed and
prayer offered; each act of repentance and
act of faith; the courage that inspires and the
hope that cheers; the noble purpose and
the longing after righteousness, — aU lead to
oneness. The fact that the various faculties
are animated by one divine life, gives prom
ise of victory. The chief powers of the mind
are thus leagued together. They seek one
common end. When there is a single gov
erning principle in the soul, this wiU natur
ally draw aU the other principles to it as
to a centre. Opposite forces wiU in course
of time lose their strength. They wiU be
brought to a stand. They will change mas
ters, and submit to ultimate authority. They
wiU move pleasantly around the great cen
tre. The severed parts wiU come together
again. There wiU be oneness, and along
with that wholeness: no mental and moral
schism any more. The soul is one, as Adam
before the fall, as Christ in his purity, as

Blessedness. 325
God in his love. The result of this is
blessedness. There is such a thing as proportion. When
we look at a human body we see nothing
one-sided. The arms are of the same length;
the hands are shaped alike; one eye does
not differ from another; one side of the face
does not project outward, whUe the other
side sinks; the whole body is finely balanced.
In aU the animal races the same fact of
symmetry appears. In the plant kingdom
there is also a complete order in the differ
ent parts of the different organisms. Even in
the formation of crystals the most beautiful
kind of proportion is manifested. A grain
of salt, a drop of rain, a flake of snow,
the icicles hanging pendant from the trees
on a winter's morning, aU point to a princi
ple of oneness. Perhaps the different rays of
Hght are modeUed according to a law of ce
lestial order, being a kind of divine images of
weU-proportioned souls. Surely the human
spirit needs to be right on every side. A
great intellect with feeble emotion, or great
emotion with a feeble intellect, strikes us
badly. We demand that every part and fea
ture of the mind shaU be properly balanced.

326 Christ and his Religion.
Having gone as far as this, the soul must
now be in a state of oneness with God. He
is the chief good. The creaturely spirit is
an insipid and meaningless thing when liv
ing away from him. As the soul was fash
ioned for God, and bears about with it a
divine likeness, it can not feel well without
him. Its human and temporal side is noth
ing. The mere natural tie which binds the
creature to the Creator can neither start
purity nor peace. Development in blessed
ness is no more possible than development
in holiness while the soul is estranged from
God. Every faculty must be in a state of unison
with the Deity. The intellect must be satis
fied with the truth of God. Many of the
divine ideas are bright, and many are dark.
With the one class we are pleased, and with
the other class we are perplexed. This shows
that there is not complete harmony between
the mind of man and the mind of God. Even
though we may know but little respecting
an Infinite Being, yet if that little is sound,
the soul works in a healthy manner. True
blessedness is not possible with false con
ceptions* There is such a thing as intellect-

Blessedness. 327
ual joy, the repose of a weU-balanced un
derstanding, the fruition that comes to the
logical and intuitional faculties when they
find nothing but eternal truth. If now the
feelings are brought into a state of oneness
with God, how divine the blessedness of the
soul! Every feeling matching with every
truth; rounded and intensified by every truth,
— the heart therefore fuU of joy. Let the
will now be ready to answer to the demands
of pure emotion, and peace will follow as
matter of consequence from the working of
that faculty. The will taking the entire soul
and giving that to God is blessedness. The
Divine Being is now "the unending end."
The perfected soul is also in a state of
oneness with the holy intelligences of heaven,
and by that means the joy is complete.
They work and worship together with the
utmost harmony; and through the whole of
the eternal day they shaU be one without
any break. They may rise higher and higher
in their separate personaHties, branch off in
different directions as their minds lead, stiU
no schism appears in the great famUy of
God. In sweetest peace they abide through
all the years. Heart beats responsive with

328 Christ and his Religion.
heart, and soul touches soul in the glori
ous commonwealth of the celestial. Whether
they walk beside the river of Godf or watch
and wait at the city gates of life, or fly on
some great embassy to distant worlds, they
stiU are one. Whatever the offices they
hold, differing as souls differ, no envy eats
into any heart, nor does jealousy trouble
any spirit among them aU. Contention for
place and power is seen not there. Each
goes where wisdom sends, and dwells in
peace where love delights to stay. Some
are quite royal in their flights, as if with
the noblest they could fly and weary not;
reaching the great kingdoms of light, the
highest that are found among the realms
of God. Others lower down are pleased to
live and love, working, there in sacred min
istry as time runs by. No meanness char
acterizes any soul or any sphere. The low
est are kings and priests to God: the highest
are never more than that. No Hne of discord
is seen on any face, nor murmur of discon
tent heard from any lip. The joy of the
Lord sparkles in every eye, and hope beck
ons the spirit onward without a cloud. They
are aU dwelling in the midst of day, dwelling

Blessedness. -329
in the midst of love; so that disunion can not
find a corner in which to grow in any soul.
Whatever is pleasant upon earth wiU be
heightened in pleasantness in heaven. Our
purest friendships will be still purer there.
No fine trait wUl be lost, no truth left be
hind, no beauty that wiU not embeUish the
souls of the saved. The collective purity
and blessedness of time is but a dream of
heaven. How souls wiU rest when they
enter the country of God ! No darkness wiU
cloud them, nor fear annoy them through all
their days. They wiU be ascending forever
on the wings of love, and joy shall warm
their heart in aU their journey of peace.
No pain shaU wound them as they pass on
ward, but they shaU be happy with the hap
piness of God, and Hfe shall be before them
through the ceaseless years. Whether in
companies or alone, the soul shall be at rest.
The time wiU pass away in the midst of
gladness, for the eternal day shaU be fuU
of God. His light shaU be in their souls,
and hope shaU ever be shining above them
like a sun. They shaU faint not again, nor
be sad. The burden of sin is gone, and per
fect joy is found.

330. Christ and his Religion.
Blessed state ! How in our toil and battle
we long to reach it. Contradictions strike
into us; confusion surrounds us; we long for
the unity and repose of the endless life,
How in our dreams we think of that divine
age of bhss, and of the people who feUow-
ship in peace in the temple of the Lord.
Their worship has no imperfection, their
work no weariness, their joy no pain. They
will keep on with the march of infinite time;
and when a small eternity has rolled away
they wiU be great with the greatness of God
Heaven wiH be always around them, always
within them, and so they live and rest in
the midst of eternal goodness,
AU hail, thou wondrous Christianity ! What
blessedness thou bringest to souls ! Age weak
ens not thy power. Eternal youth is stamped
upon thy brow. Men have sought thy de
struction; but thou hast no death, Thou hast
quickened into Hfe uncounted millions; giving
them hope in the hour of despair, and joy to
gladden them through all the length of their
way. The most wicked thou hast changed
with thy love; making them bright with the
glory of the Lord, and citizens of a kingdom
that shall never end. When we . enter the

Blessedness. 331
valley of death thy voice shaU comfort us,
and thy smile shall radiate around our souls.
Crossing the river thou shalt be with us; con
ducting us home to the palace of life ; making
us complete for evermore. Noble religion of
the Crucified! I devote my all to thee. May
my eye lose its lustre, my tongue its speech,
my arm its strength, if I forget thee. Thou
art aU that I have. I sink into eternal dark
ness without thee. Christ and Christianity
are my stay. I want no more.

the end.

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