After another very pleasant visit together to her friend Mdlle. Rosa

Bonheur, and many promises on her part to come to us in England (which,

alas! she never fulfilled) we made our way to London; and, within a few

weeks, Miss Lloyd—one morning before breakfast,—found, and, in an

incredibly short time, _bought_ the dear little house in South

Kensington which became our home with few interruptions for a quarter of

a century; No. 26, Hereford Square. It was at that time almost at the

end of London. All up the Gloucester Road between it and the Park were

market-gardens; and behind it and alongside of it, where Rosary Gardens

and Wetherby Place now stand, there were large fields of grass with

abundance of fine old lime trees and elms, and one magnificent walnut

tree which ought never to have been cut down. Behind us we had a large

piece of ground, which we rented temporarily and called the “_Boundless

Prairie_,” (!) where we gave afternoon tea to our friends under the

limes, when they were in bloom. On a part of our garden Miss Lloyd

erected a sculptor’s Studio. The House itself, though small, was very

pretty and airy; every room in it lightsome and pleasant, and somehow

capable of containing a good many people. We often had in it as many as

50 or 60 guests. In short, I had once more a home, and a most happy one;

and my lonely wanderings were over.

CHAPTER

XV.

_LONDON IN THE SIXTIES AND SEVENTIES._

_LITERARY LIFE._

For some time before I took up my abode in London I had been writing

busily for the press. When my active work at Bristol came to an end and

I became for four years a cripple, I naturally turned to use my pen,

and, finding from my happy experience of _Workhouse Sketches_ in

_Macmillan’s Magazine_ that I could make money without much difficulty,

I soon obtained almost as many openings as I could profit by to add to

my income. I wrote a series of articles for _Fraser’s Magazine_, then

edited by Mr. Froude, who had been my brother’s friend at Oxford, and

who from that time I had the high privilege to count as mine also. These

first papers were sketches of Rome, Cairo, Athens, Jerusalem, etc.; and

they were eventually reprinted in a rather successful little volume

called _Cities of the Past_, now long out of print. I also wrote many

papers connected with women’s affairs and claims, in both _Macmillan_

and _Fraser_; and these likewise were reprinted in a volume; _Pursuits

of Women_. Beside writing these longer articles, I acted as “Own

Correspondent” to the _Daily News_ in Rome one year, and in Florence

another, and sent a great many articles to the _Spectator_, _Economist_,

_Reader_, &c. In short I turned out (as a painter would say) a great

many _Pot-Boilers_. These, with my small patrimony, enabled me to bear

the expense of travelling and of keeping a maid; a luxury which had

become indispensable.

I also at this time edited, as I have mentioned, for Messrs. Trübner,

the 12 vols. of _Parker’s Works_, with a _Preface_. The arrangement of

the great mass of miscellaneous papers was very laborious and

perplexing, but I think I marshalled the volumes fairly well. I did not

perform as fully as I ought to have done my editorial duty of correcting

for the press; indeed I did not understand that it fell to my share, or

I must have declined to undertake the task. Mr. Trübner paid me £50 for

this editing, which I had proposed to do gratuitously.

I had much at heart,—from the time I gave up my practical work among the

poor folk at Bristol,—to write again on religious matters, and to help

so far as might be possible for me to clear a way through the maze of

new controversies which, in those days of _Essays_ and _Reviews_,

Colenso’s _Pentateuch_ and Renan’s _Vie de Jésus_, were remarkably

lively and wide-spread through all classes of society. With this hope,

and while spending a summer in my crippled condition at Aix-les-Bains,

and on the Diablerêts, I wrote to Harriet St. Leger:—

“I am now striving to write a book about present controversies and the

future basis of religious faith. I want to do justice to existing

parties, High, Low and Broad, yet to show (as of course I believe)

that none of them can really solve the problem; and that the faith of

the future must be one not _based_ on a special History, though

corroborated by all history.”

The plan of this book—named _Broken Lights_—is as follows: I

discriminate the different sections of thinkers from the point of view

of the answers they would respectively give to the supreme question,

“What are the ultimate grounds of our faith in God, in Duty and in

Immortality?” First, I distinguish between those who hold those grounds

to rest on the _Traditional Revelation_; and those who hold them to be

the _Original Revelation_ of the Divine Spirit in each faithful soul.

The former are divided again, naturally, into those who take their

authoritative tradition from a _Living Prophet_, a _Church_, or a

_Book_. But in Christian times we have only had a few obscure prophets

(Montanus, Joseph Smith, Swedenborg, Brother Prince, Mr. Harris, &c.),

and the choice practically lies between resting faith on a _Church_, or

resting it on a _Book_.

I classify both the parties in the English Church who rest respectively

on a Church and on a Book, as _Palæologians_, the one, the _High

Church_, whose ground of religious faith is: “_The Bible authenticated

and interpreted by the Church_;” and the other the _Low Church_, whose

theory is still the formula of Chillingworth: “_The Bible, and the Bible

only, is the religion of Protestants_.”

But it has come to pass that all the distinctive doctrines of

Christianity (over and above Theism) which the Traditionalists maintain,

are, in these days, more or less opposed to modern sentiment, criticism

and science; and among those who adhere to them, one or other attitude

as regards this opposition must be taken up. The Palæologian party in

both wings insists on the old doctrines more or less crudely and

strictly, and would fain _bend modern ideas_ to harmonize with them.

Another party, which is generally called the _Neologian_, endeavours to

_modify or explain the old doctrines_, so as to harmonize them with the

ethics and criticism of our generation.

After a somewhat careful study of the positions, merits and failures of

the two Palæologian parties, I proceed to define among the Neologians,

the _First Broad Church_ (of Maurice and Kingsley), whose programme was:

“To harmonize the doctrines of Church and Bible with modern thought.”

This end it attempted to reach by new readings and interpretations,

consonant with the highest modern sentiment; but it remained of course

obvious, that the supposed Divinely-inspired Authorities had failed to

convey the sense of these interpretations to men’s minds for eighteen

centuries; indeed had conveyed the reverse. The old received doctrine of

an eternal Hell, for example, was the absolute contradiction of the

doctrines of Divine universal love and everlasting Mercy, which the new

teachers professed to derive from the same traditional authority. This

school emphatically “put the new wine into old bottles;” and the success

of the experiment could only be temporary, since it rests on the

assumption that God has miraculously taught men in language which they

have, for fifty generations, uniformly misinterpreted.

The other branch of the Neologian party I call the _Second Broad Church_

(the party of Stanley and Jowett). It may be considered as forming the

Extreme Left of the Revelationists; the furthest from mere Authority and

the nearest to Rationalism; just as the High Church party forms the

Extreme Right; the nearest to Authority and furthest from Rationalism. I

endeavour to define the difference between the _First_ and _Second Broad

Church_ parties as follows:—

“The First Broad Church, as we have seen, maintains that the doctrines

of the Bible and the Church can be perfectly harmonized with the

results of modern thought, _by a new, but legitimate exegesis of the

Bible and interpretation of Church formulæ_. The Second Broad Church

seems prepared to admit that, in many cases, they can only be

harmonized _by the sacrifice of Biblical infallibility_. The First

Broad Church has recourse (to harmonize them) to various logical

processes, but principally to that of diverting the student, at all

difficult points, from criticism to edification. The Second Broad

Church uses no ambiguity, but frankly avows that when the Bible

contradicts Science, the Bible must be in error. The First Broad

Church maintains that the Inspiration of the Bible differs in _kind_

as well as in _degree_, from that of other books. The Second Broad

Church appears to hold that it differs in degree, but _not_ in kind.”

After a considerable discussion on the various doctrines of the nature

and limitations of Inspiration, I ask, p. 110, 111:—

“Admit the Inspiration of Prophets and Apostles to have been

substantially the same with that always granted to faithful

souls;—admit, therefore, the existence of a human element in

Revelation, can we still look to that Revelation as the safe

foundation for our Religion?”

“To this question the leaders of the Second Broad Church answer

unhesitatingly: ‘Yes. It has been an egregious error of modern times

to confound the Record of the Revelation with the Revelation itself,

and to assume that God’s lessons lose their value because they have

been transmitted to us through the natural channels of human reason

and conscience. Returning to the true view, we shall only get rid of

uncounted difficulties and objections which prevent the reception of

Christianity by the most honest minds here in England and in heathen

countries.’”

But in conclusion I ask—

“‘What influence can the Second Broad Church exercise on the future

religion of the world? What answer will it supply to the doubts of the

age, and whereon would it rest our faith in God and Immortality?’ The

reply seems to be brief. The Second Broad Church would, like all the

other parties in the Church, call on us to rest our faith on History;

but in their case, it is History corroborated by consciousness, not

opposed thereto. In the next Chapter it will be my effort to show that

under _no_ conditions is it probable that History can afford us our

ultimate grounds of faith. Meanwhile, it must appear that if any form

of Historical faith may escape such a conclusion and approve itself to

mankind in time to come, it is that which is proposed by the Second

Broad Church, and which it worthily presents,—to the intellect by its

learning, and to the religious sentiment by its profound and tender

piety.”—_Broken Lights_, p. 120.

These four parties, two Palæologian and two Neologian, thus examined,

included between them all the members of the Church of England, and all

the Orthodox Dissenters. There remained the Jews, Roman Catholics,

Quakers and Unitarians, and of each of these the book contains a sketch

and criticism; finally concluding with an exposition (so far as I could

give it) of _Theoretic_ and of _Practical Theism_.

The book contains further two _Appendices_. The first treats of Bishop

Colenso’s onslaught on the Pentateuch; then greatly disturbing English

orthodoxy. The second Appendix deals with the other most notable book of

that period; Renan’s _Vie de Jésus_. After maintaining that Renan has

failed in delineating his principal figure, while he has vastly

illuminated his environment, I give with diffidence my own view of

Christ, lest Traditionalists should, without contradiction, assume that

Renan has given the general Theistic idea of his character. After

referring to the measureless importance of the _palingenesia_ of which

Christ spoke to Nicodemus, I draw a comparison between the New Birth in

the individual soul, and the historically-traceable results of Christ’s

life on the human race. (P. 167.)

“Taking the whole ancient world in comparison with the modern, of

Heathendom with Christendom, the general character of the two is

absolutely analogous to that which in individuals we call Unregenerate

and Regenerate. Of course there were thousands of regenerated souls,

Hebrew, Greek, Indian, of all nations and languages, before Christ,

and of course there are millions unregenerate now. But nevertheless,

from this time onward we trace through history a _new spirit_ in the

world: a leaven working through the whole mass of souls.”...

The language of the old world was one of _self-satisfaction_, as its Art

was of _completeness_. On the other hand:

“The language of the new world, coming to us through the thousand

tongues of our multiform civilization, is one long cry of longing

aspiration: ‘Would that I could create the ineffable Beauty! Would

that I could discover the eternal and absolute Truth! Would! O, would

it were possible to live out the good, the noble, and the holy!’”...

“This great phenomenon of history surely points to some corresponding

great event whereby the revolution was accomplished. There must have

been a moment when the old order stopped and the new began. Some

action must have taken place upon the souls of men which thenceforth

started them in a different career, and opened the age of progressive

life. When did this moment arrive? What was the primal act of the

endless progress? By whom was that age opened?”

“Here we have really ground to go upon. There is no need to establish

the authenticity or veracity of special books or harmonize discordant

narratives to obtain an answer to our question. The whole voice of

human history unconsciously and without premeditation bears its

unmistakeable testimony. The turning point between the old world and

the new was the beginning of the Christian movement. The action upon

human nature which started it on its new course was the teaching and

example of Christ. Christ was he who opened the age of endless

progress.”

“The view, therefore, which seems to be the best fitting one for our

estimate of the character of Christ, is that which regards him as the

great Regenerator of Humanity. _His coming was to the life of humanity

what Regeneration is to the life of the individual._ This is not a

conclusion doubtfully deduced from questionable biographies; but a

broad, plain inference from the universal history of our race. We may

dispute all details; but the grand result is beyond criticism. The

world has changed, and that change is historically traceable to

Christ. The honour, then, which Christ demands of us must be in

proportion of our estimate of the value of such Regeneration. He is

not merely a Moral Reformer inculcating pure ethics; not merely a

Religious Reformer clearing away old theologic errors and teaching

higher ideas of God. These things he was; but he might, for all we can

tell, have been them both as fully, and yet have failed to be what he

has actually been to our race. He might have taught the world better

ethics and better theology, and yet have failed to infuse into it that

new Life which has ever since coursed through its arteries and

penetrated its minutest veins.”

_Broken Lights_ proved to be (with the exception of my _Duties of

Women_) the most successful of my books. It went through three English

editions, and I believe quite as many in America; but of these last all

I knew was the occasional present of a single specimen copy. It was very

favourably reviewed, but some of my fellow Theists rather disapproved of

the tribute I had paid to Christ (as quoted above); and my good friend,

Prof. F. W. Newman, actually wrote a severe pamphlet against me,

entitled “_Hero-Making Religion_.” It did not alter my view. I do not

believe that our _Religion_ (the relation of our souls to God) can ever

properly rest upon History. Nay I cannot understand how any one who

knows the intricacies and obscurities attendant on the verification of

any ancient History, should for a moment be content to suppose that God

has required of all men to rest their faith in Him on such grounds, or

on what others report to them of such grounds. In the case of

Christianity, where scholars like Renan and Martineau—profoundly learned

in ancient and obsolete tongues, and equipped with the whole arsenal of

criticism of modern Germany, France and England,—can differ about the

age and authority of the principal _piéce de conviction_ (the Gospel of

St. John), it is truly preposterous to suggest that ordinary men and

women should form any judgment at all on the matter. The _Ideal Christ_

needs only a good heart to find and love him. The _Historical_ Christ

needs the best critic in Europe, a Lightfoot, a Koenen, a Martineau, to

trace his footsteps on the sands of time. And _they_ differ as regards

nearly every one of them!

But though History cannot rightly _be_ Religion or the basis of

Religion, there is, and must be, _a History of Religion_; as there is a

history of geometry and astronomy; and of that History of the whole

world’s Religion the supreme interest centres in the record of

“The sinless years

That breathed beneath the Syrian blue.”

Yet, as regards my own personal feeling, I must avow that the halo which

has gathered round Jesus Christ obscures him to my eyes. I see that he

is much more real to many of my friends, both Orthodox and Unitarian,

than he can ever be to me. There is nothing, no, not one single sentence

or action attributed to him of which (if we open our minds to criticism)

we can feel sufficiently certain to base on it any definite conclusion,

and this to me envelopes him in a cloud. Each Christian age has indeed,

(as I remark in my _Dawning Lights_), seen a Christ of its own; so that

we could imagine students in the future arguing that there must have

been “several Christs,” as old scholars held there were several

Zoroasters and several Buddhas. Just as Michael Angelo’s Christ was the

production of that dark and stormy age when first his awful form loomed

out of the shadows of the Sistine, in no less a degree do the portraits

of _Ecce Homo_ and the _Vie de Jésus_ belong to our era of sentiment and

philanthropy. We have no sun-made photograph of his features; only such

wavering image of them as may have rested on the waters of Galilee,

rippling in the breeze. I must not however further prolong these

reflections on a subject discussed to the best of my poor ability in my

more serious books.

After BROKEN LIGHTS, I wrote the sequel: _Dawning Lights_ just quoted

above. In the first I had endeavoured to sketch the _Conditions and

Prospects_ of religious belief. In the second I speculated on the

_Results_ of the changes which were taking place in various articles of

that belief. The chapters deal consecutively with Changes in the _Method

of Theology_,—in the _Idea of God_; in the _Idea of Christ_; in the

_Doctrine of Sin_, theoretical and practical; in the idea of the

_Relation of this life to the next_; in the idea of the _Perfect Life_;

in the _Idea of Happiness_; in the _Doctrine of Prayer_; in the _Idea of

Death_; and in the _Doctrine of the eternity of Punishment_.

This book also was fairly successful, and went into a second edition.

Somewhere about this time (I have no exact record) I edited a little

book called _Alone to the Alone_, consisting of private prayers for

Theists. It contains contributions from fifteen men and women, of

Prayers, mostly written for personal use, before the idea of the book

had been suggested, under the influence of those occasional deeper

insights and more fervent feelings which all religious persons desire to

perpetuate. They are all anonymous. In the _Preface_ I say that the

result of such a compilation,

“‘Is necessarily altogether imperfect and fragmentary, but in the

great solitude where most of us pass our lives as regards our deeper

emotions, it may be more helpful to know that other human hearts are

feeling as we feel, and thinking as we think, rather than to read far

nobler words which come to us only as echoes of the Past.’ The book is

‘designed for the use of those who desire to cultivate the feelings

which culminate in Prayer, but who find the rich and beautiful

collections of the Churches of Christendom no longer available, either

because of the doctrines whose acceptance they imply or of the nature

of the requests to which they give utterance. Adequately to replace in

a generation, or in several generations, such books, through which the

piety of ages has been poured, is wholly beyond hope; and the ambition

to do so would betray ignorance of the way in which these precious

drops are distilled slowly year after year, from the great

Incense-tree of humanity.’”

The remainder of the _Preface_, which is somewhat lengthy, discusses the

validity of Prayer for the attainment of _spiritual_ (not physical)

benefits. It concludes thus—p. xxxvi.

“And, lastly, if Religion is still to be to mankind in the future what

it has been in the past, it must still be a religion of Prayer.

Nothing is changed in human nature because it has outgrown some of the

errors of the past. The spiritual experience of the saintly souls of

old was true and real experience, even when their intellectual creeds

were full of mistakes. By the gate through which they entered the

paradise of love and peace, even by that same narrow portal of Prayer

must we pass into it. No present or future discoveries in science will

ever transmute the moral dross in human nature into the pure gold of

virtue. No spectrum analysis of the light of the nebulæ will enable us

to find God. If we are to be made holy, we must ask the Holy One to

sanctify us. If we are to know the infinite joy of Divine Love, we

must seek it in Divine communion.”

This book was first published in 1871; one of the years of the rising

tide of liberal-religious hope. A third edition was called for in 1881,

when the ebb had set in. In a short _Preface_ to this third edition I

notice this fact, and say that those hopes were doubtless all too hasty

for the slow order of Divine things.

“Nay, it would seem that, far from the immediate aurora of such a

morning, the world is destined first to endure a great ‘horror of

darkness,’ and to pass through the dreary and disaster-laden

experience of a night of materialism and agnosticism. Perhaps it will

only be when men have seen with their eyes how the universe appears

without a thought of God to illumine its dark places, and gauged for

themselves where human life will sink without hope of immortality to

elevate it, that they will recognise aright the unutterable

preciousness of religion. Faith, when restored after such an eclipse,

will be prized as it has never been prized heretofore....

“And Faith _must_ return to mankind sooner or later. So sure as God

_is_, so sure must it be that he will not finally leave his creatures,

whom he has led upward for thousands of years, to lose sight of him

altogether, or to be drowned for ever in the slough of atheism and

carnalism. He will doubtless reveal himself afresh to the souls of men

in his own time and in his own way,—whether, as of old, through

prophet-souls filled with inspiration, or by other methods yet

unknown. God is over us, and Heaven is waiting for us all the same,

even though all the men of science in Europe unite to tell us there is

only Matter in the universe, and only corruption in the grave. Atheism

may prevail for a night, but faith cometh in the morning. Theism is

‘bound to win’ at last; not necessarily that special type of Theism

which our poor thoughts in this generation have striven to define; but

that great fundamental faith,—the needful substructure of every other

possible religious faith—the faith in a Righteous and loving God, and

in a life for man beyond the tomb.”

The book contains 72 Prayers; half of which refer to the outer and half

to the inner life. Among the former, are Noon and Sunset prayers;

thanksgivings for the love of friends, and for the beauty of the world;

also a Prayer respecting the sufferings of animals from human cruelty.

In the second part some of the Prayers are named, “In the Wilderness”;

“On the Right Way”; “God afar off”; “Doubt and Faith”; “_Fiat Lux_”;

“_Fiat Pax_”; “Thanksgiving for Religious Truth”; “For Pardon of a

Careless Life”; “For a Devoted Life”; “Joy in God”; “Here and

Hereafter.”

I never expected that more than a very few friends would have cared for

this book, and in fact printed it with the intention of almost private

circulation; but it has been continuously, though slowly, called for

during the 23 years which have elapsed since it was compiled.

Life of Frances Power Cobbe, as told by herself with additions by the author, and introduction by Blanche Atkinson · 第 29 / 52 段