SECTION C

CHARACTER

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CHAPTER VII

MODERN THEORIES OF LIFE

Bearing in mind the three fundamental ideas lying at the root of all

ethical inquiry--End, Norm, and Motive--we have now to deal with the

shaping forces of the Christian life, the making of character. In this

section, therefore, we shall be engaged in a discussion of the ideals,

laws, and springs of moral action. And first, What is the supreme good?

What is the highest for which a man should live? This question

determines the main problem of life. It forces itself irresistibly upon

us to-day, and the answer to it is the test of every system of morals.

But before endeavouring to determine the distinctively Christian ideal,

as presented in the teaching of Jesus and interpreted by the growing

Christian consciousness of mankind, it may be well to review briefly some

of the main theories of life which are pressing their claims upon our

attention to-day. Many of these modern views have arisen as a reaction

against traditional religion. From the seventeenth century onwards, and

especially during the nineteenth, there has been a growing disposition to

call in question the Christian conception of life. The antagonism

reveals itself not only in a distrust of all forms of religion, but also

in a craving for wider culture. The old certitudes fail to satisfy men

who have acquired new habits of reflection, and there is a disinclination

to accept a scheme of life which seems to narrow human interests and

exclude such departments as science, art, and politics. One reason of

this change is to be found in the wonderful advance of science during the

last century. Men's minds, withdrawn {100} from primary, and fixed upon

secondary causes, have refused to believe that the order of nature can be

disturbed by supernatural intervention. Whether the modern antipathy to

Christianity is justified is not the question at present before us. We

may see in the movements of our day not so much a proof that the old

faith is false, as an indication that if Christianity is to regain its

power a radical re-statement of its truths, and a more comprehensive

application of its principles to life as a whole must be undertaken.

In the endeavour to find an all-embracing ideal of life two possibilities

present themselves, arising from two different ways of viewing man.

Human life is in one aspect receptive; in another, active. It may be

regarded as dependent upon nature for its maintenance, or as a creative

power whose function is not merely to receive what nature supplies, but

to re-shape nature's materials and create a new spiritual world.

Receptivity and activity are inseparable, and form together the

harmonious rhythm of life.

But there has ever been a tendency to emphasise one or other of these

aspects. The question has constantly arisen, Which is the more important

for life--what we receive or what we create? Accordingly two contrasted

conceptions of life have appeared--a naturalistic and an idealistic.

Under the first we understand those theories which place man in the realm

of sense and explain life by material conditions; under the second we

group such systems as give to life an independent creative power.

I

NATURALISTIC TENDENCY

1. Naturalism has usually taken three forms, an idyllic or poetic, a

philosophic, and a scientific, of which Rousseau, Feuerbach, and Haeckel

may be chosen as representatives.

(1) According to Rousseau, man is really a part of nature, {101} and only

as he conforms to her laws and finds his satisfaction in what she gives

can he be truly happy. Nature is the mother of us all, and only as we

allow her spirit to pervade and nourish our being do we really live. The

watchword, 'back to nature' may be said to have given the first impulse

to the later call of the 'simple life,' which has arisen as a protest

against the luxury, ostentation, and artificiality of modern times.

(2) The philosophical form of naturalism, as expounded by Feuerbach,

inveighs against an idealistic interpretation of life. The author of

_The Essence of Christianity_ started as a disciple of Hegel, but soon

reversed the Hegelian principle, and pronounced the spiritual world to be

a fiction of the mind. Man belongs essentially to the earth, and is

governed by his senses. Self-interest is his only motive, and egoism his

sole law of life. It was only what might be expected, that the ultimate

consequences of this philosophy of the senses should be drawn by a

disciple of Feuerbach, Max Stirner,[1] in whose work, _The Individual and

His Property_, the virtues of egoism are extolled, and contempt is poured

upon all disinterestedness and altruism.

(3) The latest form of naturalism is the scientific or monistic, as

represented by Haeckel. It may be described as scientific in so far as

its author professes to deduce the moral life from biological principles.

In the chapter[2] devoted to Ethics in his work, _The Riddle of the

Universe_, his pronouncements upon morality are not scientifically

derived, but simply dogmatically assumed. The underlying principle of

monism is that the universe is a unity in which no distinction exists

between the material and the spiritual. In this world as we know it

there reigns only one kind of law, the invariable law of nature. The

so-called spiritual life of man is not an independent realm having its

own rights and aims; it belongs wholly to nature. The moral world is a

province of the physical, and the key to all the departments of reality

is to be found in science {102} alone. The doctrine of evolution is

brought into the service of monism, and the attempt is made to prove that

in the very process of biological development human thought, moral

sentiment, and social instincts have been evolved. With a curious

sacrifice of consistency, Haeckel does not agree with Feuerbach in

exalting egoism to the place of supremacy in the moral life. He

recognises two kinds of duty--duty to self and duty to society. The

social sense once created is permanent, and rises to ever-fresh

developments. But benevolence, like every other obligation, is,

according to evolutionary monism, a product evolved from the battle of

existence. Traced to its source, it has its spring in the physical

organism, and is but an enlargement of the ego.[3]

The monistic naturalism of Haeckel offers no high ideal to life. Its

Ethics is but a glorified egoism. Its dictates never rise above the

impulses derived from nature. But not religion only with its kingdom of

God, nor morality only with its imperatives, nor art with its power of

idealising the world of nature, but even science itself, with its claim

to unify and organise facts, proves that man stands apart from, and is

higher than, the material world. The very existence of such activities

in the invisible realm renders vain every attempt to reduce the spiritual

to the natural, and to make truth, goodness and beauty mere outgrowths of

nature.

2. On its ethical side naturalism is closely associated with the theory

of life which bears the name of _utilitarianism_--the theory which

regards pleasure or profit as the aim of man. In its most independent

form Hedonism can hardly be said to exist now as a reasoned theory.

Carried out to its extreme consequences it reduces man to a mere animal.

Hence a type of reflective egoism has taken the place of animal

gratification, and the idea of ulterior benefit has succeeded to that of

immediate pleasure.

The names associated with this theory of morals are those of Hobbes,

Bentham, and the two Mills. Hobbes, {103} who preaches undiluted

egoism,[4] may be regarded as the father of utilitarianism. But the

title was first applied to the school of Bentham.[5] Bentham's watchword

was 'utility' expressed in his famous formula--'The greatest happiness of

the greatest number.' While renouncing the abstract ideal of equality,

he yet asserted the equal claim of every individual to happiness. In its

distribution 'each is to count for one, and no one for more than one.'

Hence Bentham insisted upon an exact quantitative calculation of the

consequences of our actions as the only sufficient guide to conduct. The

end is the production of the maximum of pleasure and the minimum of pain.

J. S. Mill modified considerably the principle of utility by introducing

the doctrine of the qualitative difference in pleasures.[6] While Bentham

assumed self-interest as the only motive of conduct, Mill affirmed the

possibility of altruism in the motive as well as in the end or criterion

of right actions.[7] Thus the idea of utility was extended to embrace

higher moral ends. But the antithesis between the 'self' and the 'other'

was not overcome. To introduce the notion of sympathy, as Adam Smith and

others did, is to beg the question. Try as you will, you cannot deduce

benevolence from selfishness. The question for the utilitarian must

always arise, 'How far ought I to follow my natural desires, and how far

my altruistic?' There must be a constant conflict, and he can only be at

peace with himself by striking a balance. The utilitarian must be a

legalist. The principle of self-sacrifice does not spring from his inner

being. Truth, love, sacrifice--all that gives to man his true worth as a

being standing in vital relation to God--are only artificial adaptations

based on convenience and general advantage.

3. Evolutionary ethics, as expounded by Spencer and others, though

employing utilitarian principles, affords an ampler and more plausible

account of life than early {104} Hedonism.[8] The evolutionists have

enriched the idea of happiness by quietly slipping in many ends which

really belong to the idea of the 'good.' As the term 'gravitation' was

the magic word of the eighteenth century, so the word 'evolution' is the

talisman of the present age. It must be admitted that it is a sublime

and fruitful idea. It explains much in nature and history which the old

static notion failed to account for. It has a great deal to teach us

even in the spiritual sphere. But when applied to life as a whole, and

when it is assumed to be the sole explanation of moral action, it is apt

to rob the will of its initiative and reduce all moral achievements to

merely natural factors in an unfolding drama of life. The soul itself,

with all its manifestations and experiences, is treated simply as the

resultant and harmonious effect of adaptation to environment. Man is

regarded as the highest animal, the most richly specialised organism--the

last of a long series in the development of life, the outstanding feature

of which is the acquired power of complete adjustment to the world, of

which it is a part. Strictly speaking, there is no room for a personal

God in this mechanical theory of the universe. The world becomes

inevitably 'the Be all and the End all.' Hence, as might be expected,

while evolutionary Ethics claims to cover the whole range of this present

life, it does not pretend to extend into the regions of the hereafter.

It is concerned only with what it conceives to be the highest earthly

good--the material and social well-being of mankind. But no theory of

life can be pronounced satisfactory which explains man in terms of this

earth alone. The 'Great Unknown' which Mr. Spencer posits[9] as the

ultimate source of all power, is a force to be reckoned with; and, known

or unknown, is the mightiest factor in all life's experiences. Man's

spiritual nature in its whole range cannot be treated as of no account.

'The powers of the world to come' have an essential bearing upon human

{105} conduct in this world. They shape our thoughts and determine our

ideals. Hence any view of life which excludes from consideration the

spiritual side of man, and limits his horizon by the things of this earth

must of necessity be inadequate and unsatisfactory.

4. Closely connected with, and, indeed, arising out of, the evolutionary

theory, another type of thought, prevalent to-day, falls to be

noted--_the socialistic tendency_. It is now universally recognised that

the individual cannot be treated as an isolated being, but only in

relation to society of which he is a part. The emphasis is laid upon the

solidarity of mankind, and man is explained by such social facts as

heredity and environment. Marx and Engels, the pioneers of the

socialistic movement, accepted in the fullest sense the scientific

doctrine of evolution. So far from being a mere Utopian dream, Marx

contends that Socialism is the inevitable outcome of the movement of

modern society. The aim of the agitation is to bring men to a clear

consciousness of a process which is going forward in all countries where

the modern industrial methods prevail. Democracy must come to itself and

assume its rights. The keynote of the past has been the exploitation of

man by man in the three forms of slavery, serfdom, and wage-labour. The

keynote of the future must be the exploitation of the earth by man

_associated to man_. The practical aim of Socialism is that industry is

to be carried on by associated labourers jointly owning the means of

production. Here, again, the all-pervading ideal is--the general good of

society--the happiness of the greatest number. The reduction of all aims

to a common level, the equalising of social conditions, the direction and

control of all private interests and personal endeavours, are to be means

to one end--the material good of the community. Socialism is not,

however, confined to an agitation for material welfare. The industrial

aspect of it is only a phase of a larger movement. On its ethical side

it is the outcome of a strong aspiration after a higher life.[10] The

world is awakening to {106} the fact that the majority of the human

family has been virtually excluded from all participation in man's

inheritance of knowledge and culture. The labouring classes have been

from time immemorial sunk in drudgery and ignorance, bearing the burden

of society without sharing in its happiness. It is contended that every

man ought to have an opportunity of making the most of his life and

obtaining full freedom for the development of body and mind. The aim to

secure justice for the many, to protect the weak against the strong, to

mitigate the fierceness of competition, to bring about a better

understanding between capital and labour, and to gain for all a more

elevated and expansive existence, is not merely consistent with, but

indispensable to, a true Christian conception of life. But the question

which naturally arises is, how this reformation is to be brought about.

Never before have so many revolutionary schemes been proposed, and so

many social panaceas for a better world set forth. It is, indeed, a

hopeful sign of the times that the age of unconcern is gone and the

temper of cautious inaction has yielded to scientific diagnosis and

courageous treatment. It must not be forgotten, however, that the

exclusively utilitarian position tends to lower the moral ideal, and that

the exaggerated emphasis upon the social aspect of life fails to do

justice to the independence of the individual. The tendency of modern

political thought is to increase the control of government, and to regard

all departments of activity as branches of the state, to be held and

worked for the general good of the community. Thus there is a danger

that the individual may gradually lose all initiative, and life be

impoverished under a coercive mechanical system.

Socialism in its extreme form might easily become a new kind of tyranny.

By the establishment of collectivism, by making the state the sole owner

of all wealth, the sole employer of labour, and the controller of science

and art, as well as of education and religion, there is a danger of

crushing the spiritual side of man, and giving to all life and endeavour

a merely naturalistic character and content.

{107}

5. It was inevitable that an exaggerated insistence upon the importance

of society should provoke an equally one-sided emphasis upon the worth of

the individual, and that as a protest against the demands of Socialism

there should arise a form of subjectivism which aims at complete

self-affirmation.

(1) This tendency has received the name of _aesthetic-individualism_. As

a conception of life it may be regarded as intermediate between

naturalism and idealism. While rooted in a materialistic view of life,

it is moulded in the hands of its best advocates by spiritual

aspirations. Its standpoint may be characterised as a theory of

existence which seeks the highest value of life in the realm of the

beautiful, and which therefore endeavours to promote the supreme good of

the individual through devotion to art. Not only does the cultivation of

art tend in itself to elevate life by concentrating the soul upon all

that is fairest and noblest in the world, but the best means of enriching

and ennobling life is to regard life itself as a work of art. This view

of existence, it is claimed, widens the scope of experience, and leads us

into ampler worlds of interest and enjoyment. It aims at giving to

personality a rounded completeness, and bringing the manifold powers and

passions of man into harmonious unity. As a theory of life it is not

new. Already Plato, and still more Aristotle, maintained that a true man

must seek his highest satisfaction not in the possession of external

things, but in the most complete manifestation of his faculties.

Individual aestheticism largely animated the Romantic movement of Germany

at the beginning of last century. But probably the best illustration of

it is to be found in Goethe and Schiller; while in our country Matthew

Arnold has given it a powerful and persuasive exposition. It was the aim

of Goethe to mould his life into a work of art, and all his activities

and poetic aspirations were subordinated to this end. The beautiful

harmonious life is the true life, the well-rounded whole from which must

be banished everything narrow, vulgar, and distasteful, and in which

{108} everything fair and noble must find expression. 'Each individual,'

says Schiller, 'is at once fitted and destined for a pure ideal manhood.'

And the attainment of this ideal requires from us the most zealous

self-culture and a concentration of effort upon our own peculiar

gifts.[11]

A new form of aestheticism has lately appeared which pretends to combine

morality and culture. 'The New Ethic,'[12] as it is called, protests

against the sombreness of religious traditions and the rigidity of moral

restrictions, and assigns to art the function of emancipating man and

idealising life. But what this movement really offers under its new

catchword is simply a subtler form of epicureanism, a finer

self-indulgence. It is the expression of a desire to be free from all

restraint, to close one's eyes to the 'majesty of human suffering,'

allowing one's thoughts to dwell only upon the agreeable and gay in life.

It regards man as simply the sum-total of his natural inclinations, and

conceives duty to be nothing else than the endeavour to bring these into

equilibrium.

That the aesthetic culture of life is a legitimate element in Christian

morality can hardly be denied by any one who has pondered the meaning in

all its breadth of the natural simplicity and spiritual beauty of the

manifestation of the Son of Man. The beautiful, the good, and the true

are intimately connected, and constitute together all that is conceivably

highest in life. Christian Ethics ought to include everything that is

gracious and fair; and any theory of life that has no room for joy and

beauty, for laughter and song, for appreciation of artistic or poetic

expression, is surely deficient. But it is one thing to acknowledge

these things; it is another to make them the whole of existence. We live

in a world in which much else besides beauty and joy exists, and it is

not by shirking contact with the unlovely phases of experience, but by

resolutely accepting the ministry of sorrow they impose, {109} that we

attain to our highest selves. The narrow Puritanism of a past age may

need the corrective of the broader Humanism of to-day, but not less must

the Ethic of self-culture be reinforced by the Ethic of self-sacrifice.

We may not cultivate the beauty of life at the cost of duty, nor forget

that it is often only through the immolation of self that the self can be

realised.

(2) While the Romantic movement, of which Goethe was the most illustrious

representative, did much to enlarge life and ennoble the whole expanse of

being, its extreme subjectivism and aristocratic exclusiveness found

ultimate expression (_a_) in the pessimism of Schopenhauer, and the

arrogance of Nietzsche. The alliance between art and morality was

dissolved. The imagination scorned all fetters and, in its craving for

novelty and contempt of convention, became the organ of individual

caprice and licence. In Nietzsche--that strange erratic genius--at once

artist, philosopher, and rhapsodist--this philosophy of life found

brilliant if bizarre utterance. If Schopenhauer reduces existence to

nothing, and finds in oblivion and extinction its solution, (_b_)

Nietzsche seeks rather to magnify life by striking the note of a proud

and defiant optimism. He claims for the individual limitless rights;

and, repudiating all moral ties, asserts the complete sovereignty of the

self-sufficing ego. With a deep-rooted hatred of the prevailing

tendencies of civilisation, he combines a vehement desire for a richer

and unrestrained development of human power. He would not only revalue

all moral values, but reverse all ideas of right and wrong. He would

soar 'beyond good and evil,' declaring that the prevailing judgments of

mankind are pernicious prejudices which have too long tyrannised over the

world. He acknowledges himself to be not a moralist, but an

'immoralist,' and he bids us break in pieces the ancient tables of the

Decalogue. Christianity is the most debasing form of slave-morality. It

has made a merit of weakness and servility, and given the name of virtue

to such imbecilities as meekness and self-sacrifice. He calls upon the

individual to exalt himself. The man of {110} the future is to be the

man of self-mastery and virile force, 'the Superman,' who is to crush

under his heel the cringing herd of weaklings who have hitherto possessed

the world. The earth is for the strong, the capable, the few. A mighty

race, self-assertive, full of vitality and will, is the goal of humanity.

The vital significance of Nietzsche's radicalism lies less in its

positive achievement than in its stimulating effect. Though his account

of Christianity is a caricature, his strong invective has done much to

correct the sentimental rose-water view of the Christian faith which has

been current in some pietistic circles. The Superman, with all its

vagueness, is a noble, inspiring ideal. The problem of the race is to

produce a higher manhood, to realise which there is need for sacrifice

and courage. Nietzsche is the spiritual father and forerunner of the

Eugenics. The Superman is not born, he is bred. Our passions must be

our servants. Obedience and fidelity, self-discipline and courage are

the virtues upon which he insists. 'Be master of life. . . .' 'I call

you to a new nobility. Ye shall become the procreators and sowers of the

future.'

While there is much that is suggestive in Nietzsche's scathing

criticisms, and many passages of striking beauty in his books, he is

stronger in his denials than his affirmations, and it is the negative

side that his followers have fastened upon and developed. Sudermann, the

novelist, has carried his philosophy of egoism to its extreme. This

writer, in a work entitled _Sodom's End_, affirms that there is nothing

holy and nothing evil. There is no such thing as duty or love. Only

nerves exist. The 'Superman' becomes a monster. Such teaching can

scarcely be taken seriously. It conveys no helpful message. It is the

perversion of life's ideal.

As a passing phase of thought it is interesting, but it solves no

problems; it advances no truths. It resembles a whirlwind which helps to

clear the air and drive away superfluous leaves, but it does little to

quicken or expand new seeds of life.

{111}

II

IDEALISTIC TENDENCY

1. Modern Idealism was inaugurated by Kant. Kant's significance for

thought lies in his twofold demand for a new basis of knowledge and

morality. He conceived that both are possible, and that both are

interdependent, and have but one solution. The solution, however, could

only be achieved by a radical change of method, and by the introduction

of new standards of value. Kant's theory of morals was an attempt to

reconcile the two opposing ethical principles which were current in the

eighteenth century. On the one side, the Realists treated man simply as

a natural being, and accordingly demanded a pursuance of his natural

impulses. On the other side, the Dogmatists conceived that conduct must

be governed by divine sanctions. Both theories agreed in regarding

happiness as the end of life; the one the happiness of sensuous

enjoyment; the other, that of divine favour. Both set an end outside of

man himself as the basis of their ethical doctrine. Kant was

dissatisfied with this explanation of the moral life. The question,

therefore, which arises is, Whence comes the idea of duty which is an

undeniable fact of our experience? If it came merely from without, it

could never speak to us with absolute authority, nor claim unquestioning

obedience. That which comes from without depends for its justification

upon some consequence external to our action, and must be based, indeed,

upon some excitement of reward or pain. But that would destroy it as a

moral good; since nothing can be morally good that is not pursued for its

own sake. Kant, therefore, seeks to show that the law of the moral life

must originate within us, must spring from an inherent principle of our

own rational nature. Hence the distinctive feature of Kant's moral

theory is the enunciation of the 'Categorical Imperative'--the supreme

inner demand of reason. From this principle of autonomy there arise at

once the notions of man's freedom and the law's {112} universality.

Self-determination is the presupposition of all morality. But what is

true for one is true for all. Each man is a member of a rational order,

and possesses the inalienable independence and the moral dignity of being

an end in himself. Hence the formula of all duty is, 'Act from a maxim

at all times fit to be a universal law.'

It is the merit of Kant that he has given clear expression to the majesty

of the moral law. No thinker has more strongly asserted man's spiritual

nature or done more to free the ideal of duty from all individual

narrowness and selfish interest. But Kant's principle of duty labours

under the defect, that while it determines the form, it tells us nothing

of the content of duty. We learn from him the grandeur of the moral law,

but not its essence or motive-power. He does not clearly explain what it

is in the inner nature of man that gives to obligation its universal

validity or even its dominating force. As a recent writer truly says,

'In order that morality may be possible at all, its law must be realised

_in_ me, but while the way in which it is realised is mine, the content

is not mine; otherwise the whole conception of obligation is

destroyed.'[13] If the soul's function is purely formal how can we

attain to a self-contained life? Moreover, if the freedom which Kant

assigns to man is really to achieve a higher ideal and bring forth a new

world, must there not be some spiritual power or energy, some dynamic

force, which, while it is within man, is also without, and independent

of, him? 'Duty for duty's sake' lacks lifting power, and is the essence

of legalism. Love, after all, is the fulfilling of the law.

2. To overcome the Kantian abstraction, and give content to the formal

law of reason was the aim of the idealistic writers who succeeded him.

Fichte conceived of morality as action--self-consciousness realising

itself in a world of deeds. Hegel started with the _Idea_ as the source

of all reality, and developed the conception of Personality attaining

self-realisation through the growing consciousness of the world and of

God. Personality involves capacity. The {113} law of life, therefore,

is, 'Be a person and respect others as persons.'[14] Man only comes to

himself as he becomes conscious that his life is rooted in a larger self.

Morality is just the gradual unfolding of an eternal purpose whose whole

is the perfection of humanity. It has been objected that the idea of

life as an evolutionary process, which finds its most imposing embodiment

in the system of Hegel, if consistently carried out, destroys all

personal motive and self-determining activity, and reduces the history of

the world to a soulless mechanism. Hegel himself was aware of this

objection, and the whole aim of his philosophy was to show that

personality has no meaning if it be not the growing consciousness of the

infinite. The more recent exponents of his teaching have endeavoured to

prove that the individual, so far from being suppressed, is really

_expressed_ in the process, that, indeed, while the universal life

underlies, unifies, and directs the particular phases of existence, the

individual in realising himself is at the same time determining and

evolving the larger spiritual world--a world already implicitly present

in his earliest consciousness and first strivings. The absolute is

indeed within us from the very beginning, but we have to work it out.

Hence life is achieved through conflict. The universe is not a place for

pleasure or apathy. It is a place for soul-making. No rest is to be

found by an indolent withdrawal from the world of reality. 'In one way

or another, in labour, in learning, and in religion, every man has his

pilgrimage to make, his self to remould and to acquire, his world and

surroundings to transform. . . . It is in this adventure, and not apart

from it, that we find and maintain the personality which we suppose

ourselves to possess _ab initio_.'[15] The soul is a world in itself; but

it is not, and must not be treated as, an isolated personality impervious

to the mind of others. At each stage of its evolution it is the focus

and expression of a larger world. A man does not value himself as a

detached subject, but as the {114} inheritor of gifts which are focused

in him. Man, in short, is a trustee for the world; and suffering and

privation are among his opportunities. The question for each is, How

much can he make of them? Something above us there must be to make us do

and dare and hope, and the important thing is not one's separate destiny,

but the completeness of experience and one's contribution to it.[16]

3. It was inevitable that there should arise a reaction against the

extreme Intellectualism of Hegel and his school, and that a conception of

existence which lays the emphasis upon the claims of practical life

should grow in favour. The pursuit of knowledge tended to become merely

a means of promoting human well-being.

The first definite attempt to formulate a specific theory of knowledge

with this practical aim in view takes the form of what is known as

'Pragmatism.' The modern use of this term is chiefly connected with the

name of the late Professor James, to whose brilliant writings we are

largely indebted for the elucidation of its meaning. 'Pragmatism,' says

James, 'represents the empiricist attitude both in a more radical and

less objectionable form than it has ever yet assumed.'[17] It agrees

with utilitarianism in explaining practical aspects, and with positivism

in disdaining useless abstractions. It claims to be a method rather than

a system of philosophy. And its method consists in bringing the pursuit

of knowledge into close relationship with life. Nothing is to be

regarded as true which cannot be justified by its value for man. The

hypothesis which on the whole works best, which most aptly fits the

circumstances of a particular case, is true. The emphasis is laid not on

absolute principles, but on consequences. We must not consider things as

they are in themselves, but in their reference to the good of mankind.

It is useless, for example, to speculate about the existence of God. If

the hypothesis of a deity works satisfactorily, if the best results

follow for the moral well-being of humanity by believing in a God, {115}

then the hypothesis may be taken as true. It is true at least for us.

Truth, according to Pragmatism, has no independent existence. It is

wholly subjective, relative, instrumental. Its only test is its utility,

its workableness.

This view of truth, though supported by much ingenuity and brilliance,

would seem to contradict the very idea of truth, and to be subversive of

all moral values. If truth has no independent validity, if it is not

something to be sought for itself, irrespective of the inclinations and

interests of man, then its pursuit can bring no real enrichment to our

spiritual being. It remains something alien and external, a mere

arbitrary appendix of the self. It is not the essence and standard of

human life. If its sole test is what is advantageous or pleasant it

sinks into a merely utilitarian opinion or selfish bias. 'Truth,' says

Eucken, 'can only exist as an end in itself. Instrumental truth is no

truth at all.'[18]

According to this theory, moreover, truth is apt to be broken up into a

number of separate fragments without correlation or integrating unity.

There will be as many hypotheses as there are individual interests. The

truth that seems to work best for one man or one age may not be the truth

that serves another. In the collision of opinions who is to arbitrate?

If it be the institutions and customs of to-day, the present state of

morals, that is to be the measure of what is good, then we seem to be

committed to a condition of stagnancy, and involved in the quest of a

doubtful gain.

As might be expected, Professor James's view of truth determines his view

of the world. It is pluralistic, not monistic; melioristic, not

optimistic. It is characteristic of him that when he discusses the

question, Is life worth living? his answer practically is, 'Yes, if you

believe it is.' Pragmatism is put forward as the mediator between two

opposite tendencies, those of 'tender-mindedness' and 'tough-mindedness.'

'The tendency to rest in the Absolute is the characteristic mark of the

tender-minded; the {116} radically tough-minded, on the other hand, needs

no religion at all.'[19] There is something to be said for both of these

views, James thinks, and a compromise will probably best meet the case.

Hence, against these two ways of accepting the universe, he maintains the

pragmatic faith which is at once theistic, pluralistic, and melioristic.

He accepts a personal power as a workable theory of the universe. But

God need not be infinite or all-inclusive, for 'all that the facts

require is that the power should be both other and larger than our common

selves.'[20] Such a conception of God, even on James's own admission, is

akin to polytheism. And such polytheism implies a pluralistic view of

the universe. The invisible order, in which we hope to realise our

larger life, is a world which does not grow integrally in accordance with

the preconceived plan of a single architect, 'but piecemeal by the

contributions of its several parts.'[21] We make the world to our will,

and 'add our fiat to the fiat of the creator.' With regard to the

supreme question of human destiny Professor James's view is what he calls

'melioristic.' There is a striving for better things, but what the

ultimate outcome will be, no one can say. For the world is still in the

making. Life is a risk. It has many possibilities. Good and evil are

intermingled, and will continue so to be. It is a pluralistic world just

because the will of man is free, and predetermination is excluded. If

good was assured as the final goal of ill, and there was no sense of

venture, no possibility of loss or failure, then life would lack

interest, and moral effort would be shorn of reality and incentive.

In Professor James's philosophy of life there is much that is original

and stimulating, and it draws attention to facts of experience and modes

of thought which we were in danger of overlooking. It has compelled us

to consider the psychological bases of personality, and to lay more

stress upon the power of the will and individual choice in the

determining of character and destiny. It is pre-eminently {117} a

philosophy of action, and it emphasises an aspect of life which

intellectualism was prone to neglect--the function of personal endeavour

and initiative in the making of the world. It postulates the reality of

a living God who invites our co-operation, and it encourages our belief

in a higher spiritual order which it is within our power to achieve.

Pragmatism has hitherto made headway chiefly in America and Britain, but

on its activistic side it is akin to a new philosophical movement which

has appeared in France and Germany. The name generally given to this

tendency is 'Activism' or 'Vitalism'--a title chosen probably in order to

emphasise the self-activity of the personal consciousness directed

towards a world which it at once conquers and creates. The authors of

this latest movement are the Frenchman, Henri Bergson, and the German,

Rudolf Eucken. Differing widely in their methods and even in their

conclusions, they agree in making a direct attack both upon the realism

and the intellectualism of the past, and in their conviction that the

world is not a 'strung along universe,' as the late Professor James puts

it, but a world that is being made by the creative power and personal

freedom of man. While Eucken has for many years occupied a position of

commanding influence in the realm of thought, Bergson has only recently

come into notice. The publication of his striking work, _Creative

Evolution_, marks an epoch in speculation, and is awakening the interest

of the philosophical world.[22]

4. With his passion for symmetry and completeness Bergson has evolved a

whole theory of the universe, {118} resorting, strange to say, to a form

of reasoning that implies the validity of logic, the instrument of the

intellect which he never wearies of impugning. Without entering upon his

merely metaphysical speculations, we fix upon his theory of

consciousness--the relation of life to the material world--as involving

certain ethical consequences bearing upon our subject. The idea of

freedom is the corner-stone of Bergson's system, and his whole philosophy

is a powerful vindication of the independence and self-determination of

the human will. Life is free, spontaneous, creative and incalculable;

determined neither by natural law nor logical sequence. It can break

through all causation and assert its own right. It is not, indeed,

unrelated to matter, since it has to find its exercise in a material

world. Matter plays at once, as he himself says, the rôle of obstacle

and stimulus.[23] But it is not the world of things which legislates for

man; it is man who legislates for it. Bergson's object is to vindicate

the autonomy of consciousness, and his entire philosophy is a protest

against every claim of determinism to dominate life. By introducing the

creative will before all development, he displaces mechanical force, and

makes the whole evolution of life dependent upon the 'vital impulse'

which pushes forward against all obstacles to ever higher and higher

efficiency. Similarly, by drawing a distinction between intellect and

intuition, he shows that the latter is the truly creative power in man

which penetrates to the heart of reality and shapes its own world.

Intellect and instinct have been developed along divergent lines. The

intellect has merely a practical function. It is related to the needs of

action.[24] It is the faculty of manufacturing artificial objects,

especially tools to make tools.[25] It deals with solids and geometrical

figures, and its instrument is logic. But according to Bergson it has an

inherent incapacity to deal with life.[26] When we contrast the rigidity

and superficiality of intellect with the fluidity, sympathy and intimacy

of intuition, we see at once wherein {119} lies the true creative power

of man. Development, when carried too exclusively along the lines of

intellect, means loss of will-power; and we have seen how, not

individuals alone, but entire nations, may be crushed and destroyed by a

too rigid devotion to mechanical and stereotyped methods of thought.

Only life is adequate to deal with life. Let us give free expression to

the intuitive and sympathetic force within us, 'feel the wild pulsation

of life,' if we would conquer the world and come to our own. 'The

spectacle,' says Bergson, 'of life from the very beginning down to man

suggests to us the image of a current of consciousness which flows down

into matter as into a tunnel, most of whose endeavours to advance . . .

are stopped by a rock that is too hard, but which, in one direction at

least, prove successful, and break out into the light once more.'[27]

But there life does not stop.

'All tended to mankind,

But in completed man begins anew

A tendency to God.'[28]

This creative consciousness still pushes on, giving to matter its own

life, and drawing from matter its nutriment and strength. The effort is

painful, but in making it we feel that it is precious, more precious

perhaps than the particular work it results in, because through it we

have been making ourselves, 'raising ourselves above ourselves.' And in

this there is the true joy of life--the joy which every creator

feels--the joy of achievement and triumph. Thus not only is the self

being created, but the world is being made--original and

incalculable--not according to a preconceived plan or logical sequence,

but by the free spontaneous will of man.

The soul is the creative force--the real productive agent of novelty in

the world. The strange thing is that the soul creates not the world

only, but itself. Whence comes this mystic power? What is the origin of

the soul? Bergson does not say. But in one passage he suggests that

{120} possibly the world of matter and consciousness have the same

origin--the principle of life which is the great prius of all that is and

is to be. But Bergson's 'élan vital,' though more satisfactory than the

first cause of the naturalist, or the 'great unknown' of the

evolutionist, or even than some forms of the absolute, is itself

admittedly outside the pale of reason--inexplicable, indefinable, and

incalculable.

The new 'vitalism' unfolds a living self-evolving universe, a restless,

unfinished and never-to-be-finished development--the scope and goal of

which cannot be foreseen or explained. An infinite number of

possibilities open out; which the soul will follow no one can tell; why

it follows this direction rather than that, no one can see. There seems

to be no room here for teleology or purposiveness; and though Bergson has

not yet worked out the theological and ethical implications of his

theory, as far as we can at present say the personality and imminence of

a Divine Being are excluded. Though Bergson never refers to Hegel by

name, he seems to be specially concerned in refuting the philosophy of

the Absolute, according to which the world is conceived as the evolution

of the infinite mind. If 'tout est donné,' says Bergson, if all is given

beforehand, 'why do over again what has already been completed, thus

reducing life and endeavour to a mere sham.' But even allowing the force

of that objection, the idea of a 'world in the making,' though it appeals

to the popular mind, is not quite free from ambiguity. In one sense it

states a platitude--a truth, indeed, which is not excluded from an

absolute or teleological conception of life. But if it is implied that

the world, because it is in process of production, may violate reason and

take some capricious form, the idea is absurdly false, so long as we are

what we are, and the human mind is what it is. The real must always be

the rational. All enterprise and effort are based on the faith that we

belong to a rational world. Though we cannot predict what form the world

will ultimately take, we can at least be sure that it can assume no

character which will {121} contradict the nature of intelligence. Even

in the making of a world, if life has any moral worth and meaning at all,

there must be rational purpose. There are creation and initiative in man

assuredly, but they must not be interpreted as activities which deviate

into paths of grotesque and arbitrary fancy. Our actions and ideas must

issue from our world. Even a poem or work of art must make its appeal to

the universal mind; any other kind of originality would wholly lack human

interest and sever all creation and life from their root in human nature.

But at least we must acknowledge that Bergson has done to the world of

thought the great service of liberating us from the bonds of matter and

the thraldom of a fatalistic necessity. It is his merit that he has

lifted from man the burden of a hard determinism, and vindicated the

freedom, choice, and initiative of the human spirit. If he has no

distinctly Christian message, he has at least disclosed for the soul the

possibility of new beginnings, and has shown that there is room in the

spiritual life, as the basis of all upward striving, for change of heart

and conversion of life.

5. In the philosophy of Eucken there is much that is in harmony with

that of Bergson; but there are also important differences. Common to

both is a reaction against formalism and intellectualism. Neither claims

that we can gain more than 'the knowledge of a direction' in which the

solution of the problem may be sought. It is not a 'given' or finished

world with which we have to do. 'The triumph of life is expressed by

creation,' says Eucken, 'I mean the creation of self by self.' 'We live

in the conviction,' he says again, 'that the possibilities of the

universe have not yet been played out,[29] but that our spiritual life

still finds itself battling in mid-flood with much of the world's work

still before us.' While Bergson confines himself rigidly to the

metaphysical side of thought, Eucken is chiefly interested in the ethical

and religious aspects of life's problem. Moreover, while there is an

absence of a distinctly teleological aim in Bergson, the purpose and

ideal {122} of life are prominent elements in Eucken. Notwithstanding

his antagonism to intellectualism, the influence of Hegel is evident in

the absolutist tendency of his teaching. Life for Eucken is

fundamentally spiritual. Self-consciousness is the unifying principle.

Personality is the keynote of his philosophy. But we are not

personalities to begin with: we have the potentiality to become such by

our own effort. He bids us therefore forget ourselves, and strive for

our highest ideal--the realisation of spiritual personality. The more

man 'loses his life' in the pursuit of the ideals of truth, goodness, and

beauty the more surely will he 'save it.' He realises himself as a

personality, who becomes conscious of his unity with the universal

spiritual life.

Hence there are two fundamental principles underlying Eucken's philosophy

which give to it its distinguishing character. The first is the

metaphysical conception of _a realm of Spirit_--an independent spiritual

Reality, not the product of the natural man, but communicating itself to

him as he strives for, and responds to, it. This spiritual reality

underlies and transcends the outward world. It may be regarded as an

absolute or universal life--the deeper reality of which all visible

things are the expression. The second cardinal principle is the

_doctrine of Activism_. Life is action. Human duty lies in a world of

strife. We have to contend for a spiritual life-content. Here Eucken

has much in common with Fichte.[30] But while Fichte starts with

self-analysis, and loses sight of error, care, and sin, Eucken starts

with actual conflict, and ever retains a keen sense of these hampering

elements. The evil of the world is not to be solved simply by looking

down upon the world from some superior optimistic standpoint, and

pronouncing it very good. The only way to solve it is the practical one,

to leave the negative standing, and press on to the deeper

affirmative--the positive truth, that beneath the world of nature there

exists a deeper reality of spirit, of which we become participators by

the freedom and activity of our lives. We are here to acquire a new

spiritual world, but {123} it is a world in which the past is taken up

and transfigured. Against naturalism, which acquiesces in the present

order of the universe, and against mere intellectualism, which simply

investigates it, Eucken never wearies of protesting. He demands, first,

a fundamental cleavage in the inmost being of man, and a deliverance from

the natural view of things; and he contends, secondly, for a spiritual

awakening and an energetic endeavour to realise our spiritual resources.

Not by thought but by action is the problem of life to be solved. Hence

his philosophy is not a mere theory about life, but is itself a factor in

the great work of spiritual redemption which gives to life its meaning

and aim.

That which makes Eucken's positive idealism specially valuable is his

application of it to religion. Religion has been in all ages the mighty

uplifting power in human life. It stands for a negation of the finite

and fleeting, and an affirmation of the spiritual and the eternal. This

is specially true of the Christian religion. Christianity is the supreme

type of religion because it best answers the question, 'What can religion

do for life?' But the old forms of its manifestation do not satisfy us

to-day. Christianity of the present fails to win conviction principally

for three reasons: (1) because it does not distinguish the eternal

substance of religion from its temporary forms; (2) because it professes

to be the final expression of all truth, thus closing the door against

progress of thought and life; and (3) while emphasising man's redemption

from evil, it forgets the elevation of his nature towards good. There is

a tendency to depreciate human nature, and to overlook the joyousness of

life. What is needed, therefore, is the expression of Christianity in a

new form--a reconstruction which shall emphasise the positiveness,

activity, and joy of Christian morality.[31]

While every one must feel the sublimity and inspiration in this

conception of a spiritual world, which it is the task of life to realise,

most people will be also conscious of a {124} certain vagueness and

elusiveness in its presentation. We are constrained to ask what is this

independent spiritual life? Is it a personal God, or is it only an

impersonal spirit, which pervades and interpenetrates the universe? The

elusive obscurity of the position and function which Eucken assigns to

his central conception of the _Geistes-Leben_ must strike every reader.

Even more than Hegel, Eucken seems to deal with an abstraction. The

spiritual life, we are told, 'grows,' 'divides,' 'advances'--but it

appears to be as much a 'bloodless category' as the Hegelian 'idea,'

having no connection with any living subject. God, the Spirit, may

exist, indeed Eucken says He does, but there is nowhere any indication of

how the spiritual life follows from, or is the creation of, the Divine

Spirit. Our author speaks with so great appreciation of Christianity

that it seems an ungracious thing to find fault with his interpretation

of it. Yet with so much that is positive and suggestive, there are also

some grave omissions. In a work that professes to deal with the

Christian faith--_The Truth of Religion_--and which indeed presents a

powerful vindication of historical Christianity, we miss any

philosophical interpretation of the nature and power of prayer,

adoration, or worship, or any account, indeed, of the intimacies of the

soul which belong to the very essence of the Christian faith. While he

insists upon the possibility, nay, the necessity, of a new beginning, he

fails to reveal the power by which the great decision is made. While he

affirms with much enthusiasm and frankness the need of personal decision

and surrender, he has nothing to say of the divine authority and power

which creates our choice and wins our obedience. Nowhere does he show

that the creative redemptive force comes not from man's side, but

ultimately from the side of God. And finally, his teaching with regard

to the person and work of Jesus Christ, notwithstanding its tender

sympathy and fine discrimination, does less than justice to the

uniqueness and historical significance of the Son of Man. With profound

appreciation and rare beauty of language he depicts the life of Jesus.

'Seldom,' {125} says a recent writer, 'has the perfect Man been limned

with so persuasive a combination of strenuous thought and gracious

word.'[32] 'He who makes merely a normal man of Jesus,' he says, 'can

never do justice to His greatness.'[33] Yet while he protests rightly

against emptying our Lord's life of all real growth and temptation, and

the claim of practical omniscience for His humanity (conceptions of

Christ's Person surely nowhere entertained by first-class theologians),

he leaves us in no manner of doubt that he does not attach a divine worth

to Jesus, nor regard Him in the scriptural sense as the Supreme

revelation and incarnation of God. And hence, while the peerless

position of Jesus as teacher and religious genius is frankly

acknowledged, and His purity, power, and permanence are extolled--the

mediatorial and redemptive implicates of His personality are overlooked.

But when all is said, no one can study the spiritual philosophy of Eucken

without realising that he is in contact with a mind which has a sublime

and inspiring message for our age. Probably more than any modern

thinker, Eucken reveals in his works deep affinities with the central

spirit of Christianity. And perhaps his influence may be all the greater

because he maintains an attitude of independence towards dogmatic and

organised Christianity. Professor Eucken does not attempt to satisfy us

with a facile optimism. Life is a conflict, a task, an adventure. And

he who would engage in it must make the break between the higher and the

lower nature. For Eucken, as for Dante, there must be 'the penitence,

the tears, and the plunge into the river of Lethe before the new

transcendent love begins.' There is no evasion of the complexities of

life. He has a profound perception of the contradictions of experience

and the seeming paradoxes of religion. For him true liberty is only

possible through the 'given,' through God's provenience and grace:

genuine self-realisation is only achievable through a continuous

self-dedication to, and {126} incorporation within, the great realm of

spirits; and the Immanence within our lives of the Transcendent.[34]

In styling the tendencies which we have thus briefly reviewed

non-Christian, we have had no intention of disparagement. No earnest

effort to discover truth, though it may be inadequate and partial, is

ever wholly false. In the light of these theories we are able to see

more clearly the relation between the good and the useful, and to

acknowledge that, just as in nature the laws of economy and beauty have

many intimate correspondences, so in the spiritual realm the good, the

beautiful, and the true may be harmonised in a higher category of the

spirit. We shall see that the Christian ideal is not so much

antagonistic to, as inclusive of, all that is best in the teaching of

science and philosophy. The task therefore now before us is to interpret

these general conceptions of the highest good in the light of Christian

Revelation--to define the chief end of life according to Christianity.

[1] Kasper Schmidt, _Der Einzige und sein Eigentum_.

[2] Haeckel, _op. cit._, chap. xix.

[3] Haeckel, _op. cit._, chap. xix. p. 140.

[4] Hobbes' _Leviathan_, chap. vi.

[5] Cf. Pringle-Pattison, _Philos. Radicals_, and J. Seth's _Eng.

Philosophers_, p. 240.

[6] _Utilitarianism_, chap. ii.

[7] _Idem_, chap. iii.

[8] Cf. Spencer, _Data of Ethics_, p. 275; also _Social Statics_. In the

former work an attempt is made to exhibit the biological significance of

pleasure and the relation between egoism and altruism.

[9] See _First Principles_, p. 166 ff.

[10] See Kirkup, _An Inquiry into Socialism_, p. 19.

[11] See Lütgert, _Natur und Geist Gottes_, for striking chapter on

Goethe's _Ethik_, p. 121 f.

[12] Cf. Eucken, _Main Currents of Modern Thought_, p. 401 f.

[13] Macmillan, _The Crowning Phase of the Critical Philosophy_, p. 28.

[14] Hegel, _Phil. of Right_, p. 45.

[15] Bosanquet, _The Principles of Individuality and Value_.

[16] Bosanquet, _The Principles of Individuality and Value_.

[17] _Pragmatism_, p. 51.

[18] _Main Currents of Thought_, p. 78.

[19] _Pragmatism_, p. 278 f.; also _Varieties of Relig. Experience_, p.

525 f.

[20] _Idem_, p. 299.

[21] _Idem_, p. 290.

[22] The writer regrets that the work of the Italian, Benedetto Croce,

_Philosophy of the Practical, Economic and Ethic_ (Part II. of

_Philosophy of the Spirit_), came to his knowledge too late to permit a

consideration of its ethical teaching in this volume. Croce is a thinker

of great originality, of whom we are likely to hear much in the future,

and whose philosophy will have to be reckoned with. Though independent

of others, his view of life has affinities with that of Hegel. He

maintains the doctrine of development of opposites, but avoids Hegel's

insistence upon the concept of nature as a mode of reality opposed to the

spirit. Spirit is reality, the whole reality, and therefore the

universal. It has two activities, theoretic and practical. With the

theoretic man understands the universe; with the practical he changes it.

The Will is the man, and freedom is finding himself in the Whole.

[23] _Hibbert Journal_, April 1912.

[24] _Evol. Creat._, p. 161.

[25] _Idem_, p. 146.

[26] _Idem_, p. 165.

[27] _Hibbert Journal_.

[28] Browning.

[29] _Die Geistigen Strömunyen der Gegenwart_, p. 10.

[30] Cf. _Problem of Life_.

[31] Cf. _Life's Basis and Life's Ideal_.

[32] Hermann, _Bergson und Eucken_, p. 103.

[33] _The Problem of Life_, p. 152.

[34] Cf. von Hügel, _Hibbert Journal_, April 1912.

{127}

CHAPTER VIII

THE CHRISTIAN IDEAL

The highest good is not uniformly described in the New Testament, and

modern ethical teachers have not always been in agreement as to the chief

end of life. While some have found in the teaching of Jesus the idea of

social redemption alone, and have seen in Christ nothing more than a

political reformer, others have contended that the Gospel is solely a

message of personal salvation. An impartial study shows that both views

are one-sided. On the one hand, no conception of the life of Jesus can

be more misleading than that which represents Him as a political

revolutionist. But, on the other hand, it would be a distinct narrowing

of His teaching to assume that it was confined to the aspirations of the

individual soul. His care was indeed primarily for the person. His

emphasis was put upon the worth of the individual. And it is not too

much to say that the uniqueness of Jesus' teaching lay in the discovery

of the value of the soul. There was in His ministry a new appreciation

of the possibilities of neglected lives, and a hitherto unknown yearning

to share their confidence. It would be a mistake, however, to represent

Christ's regard for the individual as excluding all consideration of

social relations. The kingdom of God, as we shall see, had a social and

corporate meaning for our Lord. And if the qualifications for its

entrance were personal, its duties were social. The universalism of

Jesus' teaching implied that the soul had a value not for itself alone,

but also for others. The assertion, therefore, that the individual has a

value cannot mean that he has a value in isolation. {128} Rather his

value can only be realised in the life of the community to which he truly

belongs. The effort to help others is the truest way to reveal the

hidden worth of one's own life; and he who withholds his sympathy from

the needy has proved himself unworthy of the kingdom.

While the writers of the New Testament vary in their mode of presenting

the ultimate goal of man, they are at one in regarding it as an exalted

form of _life_. What they all seek to commend is a condition of being

involving a gradual assimilation to, and communion with, God. The

distinctive gift of the Gospel is the gift of life. 'I am the Life,'

says Christ. And the apostle's confession is in harmony with his

Master's claim--'For me to live is Christ.' Salvation is nothing else

than the restoration, preservation, and exaltation of life.

Corresponding, therefore, to the three great conceptions of Life in the

New Testament, and especially in the teaching of Jesus--'Eternal Life,'

'the kingdom of God,' and the perfection of the divine Fatherhood,

'Perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect'--there are three aspects,

individual, social, and divine, in which we may view the Christian ideal.

I

Self-realisation is not, indeed, a scriptural word. But rightly

understood it is a true element in the conception of life, and may, we

think, be legitimately drawn from the ethical teaching of the New

Testament.[1] Though the free full development of the individual

personality as we conceive it in modern times does not receive explicit

statement,[2] still one cannot doubt, that before every man our Lord does

present the vision of a possible and perfect self. Christianity does not

destroy 'the will to live,' but only the will to live at all costs. Even

mediaeval piety only inculcated self-mortification as a stage towards a

higher {129} self-affirmation. Christ nowhere condemns the inherent

desire for a complete life. The end, indeed, which each man should place

before himself is self-mastery and freedom from the world;[3] but it is a

mastery and freedom which are to be gained not by asceticism but by

conquest. Christ would awaken in every man the consciousness of the

priceless worth of his soul, and would have him realise in his own person

God's idea of manhood.

The ideal of self-realisation includes three distinct elements:

1. _Life as intensity of being_.--'I am come that they might have life,

and that they might have it more abundantly.'[4] 'More life and fuller'

is the passion of every soul that has caught the vision and heard the

call of Jesus. The supreme good consists not in suppressed vitality, but

in power and freedom. Life in Christ is a full, rich existence. The

doctrine of quietism and indifference to joy has no place in the ethic of

Jesus. Life is manifested in inwardness of character, and not in pomp of

circumstance. It consists not in what a man has, but in what he is.[5]

The beatitudes, as the primary qualifications for the kingdom of God,

emphasise the fundamental principle of the subordination of the material

to the spiritual, and the contrast between inward and outward good.[6]

Self-mastery is to extend to the inner life of man--to dominate the

thoughts and words, and the very heart from which they issue. A divided

life is impossible. The severest discipline, even renunciation, may be

needful to secure that singleness of heart and strenuousness of aim which

are for Jesus the very essence of life. 'Ye cannot serve God and

mammon.'[7] In harmony with this saying is the opposition in the

Johannine teaching between 'the world' and 'eternal life.'[8] The

quality of life indeed depends not upon anything contingent or

accidental, but upon an intense inward realisation of blessedness in

Christ in comparison with which even {130} the privations and sufferings

of this world are but as a shadow.[9] At the same time life is not a

mere negation, not simply an escape from evil. It is a positive good,

the enrichment and intensifying of the whole being by the indwelling of a

new spiritual power. 'For me to live is Christ,' says St. Paul. 'This

is life eternal,' says St. John, 'that they may know Thee the only true

God, and Him whom Thou didst send, even Jesus Christ.'[10]

2. _Life as Expansion of Personality_.--By its inherent power it grows

outwards as well as inwards. The New Testament conception of life is

existence in its fullest expression and fruitfulness. The ideal as

presented by Christ is no anaemic state of reverie or ascetic withdrawal

from human interest. It is by the elevation and consecration of the

natural life, and not by its suppression, that the 'good' is to be

realised. The natural life is to be transformed, and the very body

presented unto God as a living sacrifice.[11] So far from Christianity

being opposed to the aim of the individual to find himself in a world of

larger interests, it is only in the active and progressive realisation of

such a life that blessedness consists. Herein is disclosed, however, the

defect of the modern ideal of culture which has been associated with the

name of Goethe. In Christ's ideal self-sufficiency has no place. While

rightly interpreted the 'good' of life includes everything that enriches

existence and contributes to the efficiency and completeness of manhood,

mere self-culture and artistic expression are apt to become perverted

forms of egoism, if not subordinated to the spirit of service which alone

can give to the human faculties their true function and exercise. Hence

life finds its real utterance not in the isolated development of the

self, but in the fullness of personal relationships. Only in response to

the needs of others can a man realise his own life. In answer to the

young ruler who asked a question 'concerning that which is good,' Christ

replied, 'If thou wilt enter into life keep the {131} commandments'; and

the particular duties He mentioned were those of the second table of the

Decalogue.[11] The abundance of life which Christ offers consists in the

mutual offices of love and the interchange of service. Thus

self-realisation is attained only through self-surrender.[13] The

self-centred life is a barren life. Not by withholding our seed but by

flinging it forth freely upon the broad waters of humanity do we attain

to that rich fruition which is 'life indeed.'

3. _Life as Eternal Good_.--Whatever may be the accurate signification

of the word 'eternal,' the words 'eternal life,' regarded as the ideal of

man, can mean nothing else than life at its highest, the fulfilment of

all that personality has within it the potency of becoming. In one sense

there is no finality in life. 'It seethes with the morrow for us more

and more.' But in another sense, to say that the moral life is never

attained is only a half truth. It is always being attained because it is

always present as an active reality evolving its own content. In Christ

we have 'eternal life' now. It is not a thing of quantity but of

quality, and is therefore timeless.

'We live in deeds not years, in thoughts not breaths,

In feelings, not in figures on a dial.'[14]

He who has entered into fellowship with God has within him now the

essence of 'life eternal.'

But the conception of life derived from, and sustained by, God involves

the idea of immortality. 'No work begun shall ever pause for death.'[15]

To live in God is to live as long as God. The spiritual man pursues his

way through conflict and achievement towards a higher and yet a higher

goal, ever manifesting, yet ever seeking, the infinite that dwells in

him. All knowledge and quest and endeavour, nay existence itself, would

be a mockery if man had 'no forever.' Scripture corroborates the

yearnings of the heart and represents life as a growing good which is to

attain to ever higher reaches and fuller realisations in the world to

{132} come. It is the unextinguishable faith of man that the future must

crown the present. No human effort goes to waste, no gift is delusive;

but every gift and every effort has its proper place as a stage in the

endless process.[16]

'There shall never be lost one good! What was shall live as

before.'[17]

II

The foregoing discussion leads naturally to the second aspect of the

highest Good, the Ideal in its social or corporate form--_the kingdom of

God_. Properly speaking, there is no such thing as an individual. As

biologically man is only a member of a larger organism, so ethically he

can only realise himself in a life of brotherhood and service. It is

only within the kingdom of God and by recognition of its social relations

that the individual can attain to his own blessedness. Viewed in the

light of the mutual relation of its members the kingdom is a brotherhood

in which none is ignored and all have common privileges and

responsibilities; viewed in the light of its highest good it is the

entire perfection of the whole--a hierarchy of interests subordinated to,

and unified by, the sovereignty of the good in the person of God.[18]

1. By reason of its comprehensiveness the doctrine of the kingdom has

been regarded by many as the most general conception of the ideal of

Jesus. 'In its unique and unapproachable grandeur it dwarfs all the

lesser heights to which the prophetic hopes had risen, and remains to

this day the transcendent and commanding ideal of the possible exaltation

of our humanity.'[19] The principles implicitly contained in the

teaching of Jesus concerning the kingdom have become the common

possessions of mankind, and are moulding the thoughts and institutions of

the civilised world. Kant's theory of a kingdom of ends, Comte's idea of

Humanity, and the modern conceptions of scientific and {133} historical

evolution are corroborative of the teaching of the New Testament. Within

its conception men have found room for the modern ideas of social and

economic order, and under its inspiration are striving for a fuller

realisation of the aspirations and hopes of humanity.[20]

Though frequently upon His lips the phrase did not originate with Jesus.

Already the Baptist had employed it as the note of his preaching, and

even before the Baptist it had a long history in the annals of the Jewish

people. Indeed the entire story of the Hebrews is coloured by this

conception, and in the days of their decline it is the idea of the

restoration of their nation as the true kingdom of God that dominates

their hopes. When earthly institutions did not fulfil their promise, and

nothing could be expected by natural means, hope became concentrated upon

supernatural power. Thus before Jesus appeared there had grown up a mass

of apocalyptic literature, the object of which was to encourage the

national expectation of a sudden and supernatural coming of the kingdom

of heaven. Men of themselves could do nothing to hasten its advent.

They could only wait patiently till the set time was accomplished, and

God stretched forth His mighty hand.[21]

A new school of German interpretation has recently arisen, the aim of

which is to prove that Jesus was largely, if not wholly, influenced by

the current apocalyptic notions of His time. Jesus believed, it is said,

in common with the popular sentiment of the day, that the end of the

world was at hand, and that at the close of the present dispensation

there would come suddenly and miraculously a new order into which would

be gathered the elect of God. Johannes Weiss, the most pronounced

advocate of this view, maintains that Jesus' teaching is entirely

eschatological. The kingdom is supramundane and still to come. Jesus

did not inaugurate it; He only predicted its advent. Consequently there

is no Ethics, strictly so called, in His {134} preaching; there is only

an Ethic of renunciation and watchfulness[22]--an _Interimsethik_.

The whole problem resolves itself into two crucial questions: (1) Did

Jesus expect a gradual coming of the kingdom, or did He conceive of it as

breaking in suddenly by the immediate act of God? and (2) Did Jesus

regard the kingdom as purely future, or as already begun?

In answer to the first question, while there are undoubtedly numerous and

explicit sayings, too much neglected in the past and not to be wholly

explained by mere orientalism, suggesting a sudden and miraculous coming,

these must be taken in connection with the many other passages implying a

gradual process--passages of deep ethical import which seem to colour our

Lord's entire view of life and its purposes. And in answer to the second

question, while there are not a few utterances which certainly point to a

future consummation, these are not inconsistent with the immediate

inauguration and gradual development of the kingdom.

A full discussion of this subject is beyond the scope of this volume.[23]

There are, however, two objections which may be taken to the apocalyptic

interpretation of Christ's teaching as a whole. (1) As presented by its

most pronounced champions, this view seems to empty the person and

teaching of Jesus of their originality and universality. It tends to

reduce the Son of Man to the level of a Jewish rhapsodist, whose whole

function was to encourage His countrymen to look away from the present

scene of duty to some future state of felicity, which had no connection

with the world of reality, and no bearing upon their present character.

It would be surely a caricature to interpret the religion of the New

Testament from this standpoint alone to the exclusion of those directly

ethical and spiritual {135} principles in which its originality chiefly

appeared, and on which its permanence depends.[24] As Bousset[25] points

out, not renunciation but joy in life is the characteristic thing in

Jesus' outlook. He does not preach a gloomy asceticism, but proclaims a

new righteousness and a new type of duty. He recognises the worth of the

present life, and teaches that the world's goods are not in themselves

bad. He came as a living man into a dead world, and by inculcating a

living idea of God and proclaiming the divine Fatherhood gave a new

direction and inner elevation to the expectations of His age, showing the

true design of God's revelation and the real meaning of the prophetic

utterances of the past. To interpret the kingdom wholly from an

eschatological point of view would involve a failure to apprehend the

spiritual greatness of the personality with which we are dealing.[26]

(2) This view virtually makes Christ a false prophet. For, as a matter

of fact, the sudden and catastrophic coming of the kingdom as predicted

by the Hebrew apocalyptics did not take place. On the contrary the

kingdom of God came not as the Jews expected in a sudden descent from the

clouds, but in the slow and progressive domination of God over the souls

and social relationships of mankind. In view of the whole spirit of

Jesus, His conception of God, and His relation to human life, as well as

the attitude of St. Paul to the Parousia, it is critically unsound to

deny that Jesus believed in the presence of the kingdom in a real sense

during His lifetime.[27]

2. If this conception of the kingdom of God be correct we may now

proceed to regard it under three aspects, Present, Progressive, and

Future--as a _Gift_ immediately bestowed by Jesus, as a _Task_ to be

worked out by man in the history of the world, and as a _Hope_ to be

consummated by God in the future.

{136}

(1) _The Kingdom as a Present Reality_.--After what has been already said

it will not be necessary to dwell upon this aspect. It might be

supported by direct sayings of our Lord.[28] But the whole tenor and

atmosphere of the Gospels, the uniqueness of Christ's personality, His

claim to heal disease and forgive sin, as well as the conditions of

entrance, imply clearly that in Jesus' own view the kingdom was an actual

fact inaugurated by Him and obtaining its meaning and power from His own

person and influence. Obviously He regarded Himself as the bearer of a

new message of life, and the originator of a new reign of righteousness

and love which was to have immediate application. Christ came to make

God real to men upon the earth, and to win their allegiance to Him at

once. No one can fail to recognise the lofty idealism of the Son of Man.

He carries with Him everywhere a vision of the perfect life as it exists

in the mind of God, and as it will be realised when these earthly scenes

have passed away; yet it would be truer to say that His interests were in

'first things' rather than in 'last things,' and would be more justly

designated Protology than Eschatology.[29] His mission, so far from

having an iconoclastic aim, was really to 'make all things new.' He was

concerned with the initiation of a new religion, therefore with a

movement towards a regeneration of society which would be virtually a

reign of God in the hearts of men. 'The kingdom of God is within you.'

Not in some spot remote from the world, some beautiful land beyond the

skies, but in the hearts and homes, in the daily pursuits and common

relationships of life must God rule. The beatitudes, while they

undoubtedly refer to a future when a fuller realisation of them will be

enjoyed, have a present reference as well. They make the promise of the

kingdom a present reality dependent upon the inner state of the

recipients. Not in change of environment but in change {137} of heart

does the kingdom consist. The lowly and the pure in heart, the merciful

and the meek, the seekers after righteousness and the lovers of peace

are, in virtue of their disposition and aspiration, already members.

(2) The kingdom as a _gradual development_.--The inward gift prescribes

the outward task. It is a power commanding the hearts of men and

requiring for its realisation their response. It might be argued that

this call to moral effort presented to the first Christians was not a

summons to transform the present world, but to prepare themselves for the

destiny that awaited them in the coming age.[30] It is true that

watchfulness, patience, and readiness are among the great commands of the

New Testament.[31] But admitting the importance of these requirements,

they do not militate against the view that Christians were to work for

the betterment of the world. Christ did not look upon the world as

hopeless and beyond all power of reclaiming; nor did He regard His own or

His disciples' ministry within it as without real and positive effects.

While His contemporaries were expecting some mighty intervention that

would suddenly bring the kingdom ready-made from heaven, He saw it

growing up silently and secretly among men. He took his illustrations

from organic life. Its progress was to be like the seed hidden in the

earth, and growing day and night by its own inherent germinating force.

The object of the parables of the sower, the tares, the mustard seed, the

leaven, was to show that the crude catastrophic conception of the coming

of the kingdom must give place to the deeper and worthier idea of

growth--an idea in harmony with the entire economy of God's working in

the world of nature. In the parable of the fruit-bearing earth Jesus

shows His faith in the growth of the good, and hence in the adaptation of

the truth to the human soul. In the parables of the leaven, the light,

and salt Jesus illustrates the gradual power of truth to pervade,

illumine, and purify the life of humanity. His method of bringing about

this {138} good is the contagion of the good life. His motive is the

sense of the need of men. And His goal is the establishment of the

kingdom of love--a kingdom in which all the problems of ambition, wealth,

and the relationships of the family, of the industrial sphere, and of the

state, are to be transfigured and spiritualised.[32]

It is surely no illegitimate application of the mind of Christ if we see

in His teaching concerning the kingdom a great social ideal to be

realised by the personal activities and mutual services of its citizens.

It finds its field and opportunity in the realm of human society, and is

a good to be secured in the larger life of humanity. This ideal, though

only dimly perceived by the early Church, has become gradually operative

in the world, and has been creative of all the great liberating movements

in history. It lay behind Dante's vision of a spiritual monarchy, and

has been the inspiring motive of those who, in obedience to Christ, have

wrought for the uplifting of the hapless and the down-trodden. It has

been the soul of all mighty reformations, and is the source of that

conception of a new social order which has begun to mean so much for our

generation.

Loyalty to the highest and love for the lowest--love to God and

man--these are the marks of the men of all ages who have sought to

interpret the mind of Christ. Mutual service is the law of the kingdom.

Every man has a worth for Christ, therefore reverence for the personality

of man, and the endeavour to procure for each full opportunity of making

the most of his life, are at once the aim and goal of the new spiritual

society of which Christ laid the foundations in His own life and

ministry. Everything that a man is and has, talents and possessions of

every kind, are to be used as instruments for the promotion of the

kingdom of God.

'For life, with all it yields of joy and woe,

And hope and fear . . .

Is just our chance o' the prize of learning love.'

{139}

(3) But though the reign of God has begun, it has _yet to be

consummated_.--There is not wanting in the New Testament an element of

futurity and expectancy not inconsistent with, but rather complementary

to, the notion of gradual development. The eschatological teaching of

Jesus has its place along with the ethical, and may be regarded not as

annulling, but rather reinforcing the moral ideals which He

proclaimed.[33] There is nothing pessimistic in Christ's outlook. His

teaching concerning the last things, while inculcating solemnity and

earnestness of life as become those to whom has been entrusted a high

destiny, and who know not at what hour they may be called to give an

account of their stewardship,[34] bids men look forward with certainty

and hope to a glorious consummation of the kingdom. Though many of our

Lord's sayings with regard to His second coming are couched in figurative

language, we cannot believe that He intended to teach that the kingdom

itself was to be brought about in a spectacular or material way. He bids

His disciples take heed lest they be deceived by a visible Christ, or led

away by merely outward signs.[35] His coming is to be as 'the lightning

which cometh out of the east and shineth even unto the west'[36]--an

emblem not so much of suddenness as of illuminating and convincing, and

especially, of progressive force. Not in a visible reign or personal

return of the Son of Man does the consummation of the kingdom consist,

but in the complete spiritual sovereignty of Christ over the hearts and

minds of men. When the same love which He Himself manifested in His life

becomes the feature of His disciples; when His spirit of service and

sacrifice pervades the world, and the brotherhood of man and the

federation of nations everywhere prevail; then, indeed, shall the sign of

the Son of Man appear in the heavens, and then shall the tribes of {140}

the earth see Him coming in the clouds with power and glory.[37]

Jesus does not hesitate to say that there will be a final judgment and an

ingathering of the elect from all quarters of the earth.[38] There will

be, as the parable of the Ten Virgins suggests, a division and a shut

door.[39] But punishment will be automatic. Sin will bring its own

consequences. Those only will be excluded at the last who even now are

excluding themselves. For Christ is already here, and is judging the

world every day. By the common actions of their present life men are

being tried; and that which will determine their final relation to Christ

will not be their mere perception of His bodily presence, but their moral

and spiritual likeness to Him.

Amidst the imperfections of the present men have ever looked forward to

some glorious consummation, and have lived and worked in the faith of it.

'To the prophets of Israel it was the new age of righteousness; to the

Greek thinkers the world of pure intelligible forms; to Augustine and

Dante the holy theocratic state; to the practical thought of our own time

the renovated social order. Each successive age will frame its own

vision of the great fulfilment; but all the different ideals can find

their place in the message of the kingdom which was proclaimed by

Jesus.'[40]

There is thus opened to our vision a splendid conception of the future of

humanity. It stands for all that is highest in our expectations because

it is already expressive of all that is best in our present achievements

and endeavours. The final hope of mankind requires for its fulfilment a

progressive moral discipline. Only as Christ's twofold command--love to

God and love to man--is made the all-pervasive rule of men's lives will

the goal of a universally perfected humanity be attained.

{141}

III

The chief good may be regarded finally in its _divine_ aspect--as the

endeavour after God-likeness. In this third form of the ideal the two

others--the personal and the social--are harmonised and completed. To

realise the perfect life as it is revealed in the character and will of

God is the supreme aim of man, and it embraces all that is conceivably

highest for the individual and for humanity as a whole. This aspiration

finds its most explicit expression in the sublime word of Christ--'Be ye

perfect even as your Father in heaven is perfect.'[41] This commandment,

unlike so many generalisations of duty, is no cold abstraction. It is

pervaded with the warmth of personality and the inspiration of love. In

the idea of Fatherhood both a standard and motive are implied. Because

God is our Father it is at once natural and possible for us to be like

Him. He who would imitate another must have already within him something

of that other. As there is a community of nature which makes it possible

for the child to grow into the likeness of its parent, so there is a

kinship in man with God to which our Lord here appeals.

1. Among the ethical qualities of divine perfection set forth in

scripture for man's imitation _Holiness_ stands preeminent. God, the

perfect being, is the type of holiness, and men are holy in proportion as

their lives are Godlike. This conception of holiness is fundamental in

the Old Testament. It is summed up in a command almost identical with

that of our Lord: 'Be ye holy, for I am holy.'[42] Holiness, as

Christianity understands it, is the name for the undimmed lustre of God's

ethical perfection. God is 'the Holy one'--the alone 'good' in the

absolute sense.[43]

If God's character consists in 'Holiness,' then that quality determines

the moral end of man. But holiness, as the most comprehensive name for

the divine moral perfection--the pure white light of God's Being--breaks

up into the {142} separate rays which we designate the special moral

attributes. These have been grouped under 'Righteousness' (truth,

faithfulness, justice, zeal, etc.), and 'Love' (goodness, pity, mercy,

etc.), though they are really but expressions of one individual life.[44]

2. In the New Testament _Righteousness_ is almost equivalent to

holiness. It is the attribute of God which determines the nature of His

kingdom and the condition of man's entrance into it. As comprising

obedience to the will of God and the fulfilment of the moral law, it is

the basal and central conception of the Christian ideal.[45] It is the

keynote of the Pauline Epistles. Life has a supreme sacredness for Paul

because the righteousness of God is its end. While righteousness is the

distinctive note of the Pauline conception, it is also fundamental in the

Ethics of Jesus. It is the ruling thought in the Sermon on the Mount.

To be righteous for Jesus simply means to be right and true--to be as one

ought to be. But human standards are insufficient. A man must order his

life by the divine standard. Jesus is as emphatic as any Old Testament

prophet in insisting upon the need of absolute righteousness. That, for

all who would share in the kingdom of the good, is to be their ideal--the

object of their hunger and thirst. It is a 'good' which is essential to

the very satisfaction and blessedness of the soul.[46] It is the supreme

desire of the man who would be at peace with God. It involves poverty of

spirit, for only those who are emptied of self are conscious of their

need. They who, in humility and meekness, acknowledge their sins, are in

the way of holiness and are already partakers of the divine nature.

Christ's teaching in regard to righteousness has both a negative and a

positive aspect. It was inevitable that He should begin with a criticism

of the morality inculcated by the leaders of His day. The characteristic

feature of Pharisaism was, as Christ shows, its _externalism_. If a man

fulfilled the outward requirements of the law he was {143} regarded as

holy, by himself and others, whatever might be the state of his heart

towards God. This outwardness tended to create certain vices of

character. Foremost amongst these were (1) _Vanity_ or Ostentation. To

appear well in the opinion of others was the aim of pharisaic conduct.

Along with ostentation appears (2) _Self-complacency_. Flattery leads to

self-esteem. He who loves the praise of man naturally begins to praise

himself. As a result of self-esteem arises (3) _Censoriousness_, since

he who thinks well of himself is apt to think ill of others. As a system

Pharisaism was wanton hypocrisy--a character of seeming righteousness,

but too often of real viciousness.

But Christ came not to destroy but to fulfil the law.[47] His aim was to

proclaim the true principles of righteousness in contrast to the current

notions of it. This He proceeds to do by issuing the law in its ideal

and perfected form.[48] Hence Jesus unfolds its _positive_ content by

bringing into prominence the virtues of the godly character as opposed to

the pharisaic vices. _Modesty_ and _humility_ are set over against

ostentation and self-righteousness.[49] _Single-minded sincerity_ is

commended in opposition to hypocrisy.[50] The vice of censoriousness is

met by the duty of _self-judgment_ rather than the judgment of others.[51]

The two positive features of the new law of righteousness as expounded by

Jesus are--_inwardness_ and _spontaneity_. The righteousness of the

Gospel, so far from being laxer or easier of fulfilment, was actually to

exceed that of the Pharisees:[52] (_a_) in _depth and inwardness_. It is

not enough not to kill or steal or commit adultery. These commandments

may be outwardly kept yet inwardly broken. Something more radical is

expected of the man who has set before him the doing of God's will, a

righteousness not of appearance but of reality. (_b_) In _freedom and

spontaneity_. It is to have its spring in the heart. It is to be a

righteousness not of servile obedience, but of willing devotion. The aim

of life is no longer the painful effort of the bondsman who {144} strives

to perform a distasteful task, but the gladsome endeavour of the son who

knows and does, because he loves, his father's will. In the Ethics of

the Christian life there is no such thing as mere duty; for a man never

fulfils his duty till he has done more than is legally required of him.

'Whosoever shall compel you to go with him one mile, go with him

twain.'[53] The 'nicely calculated less or more' is alien to the spirit

of him who would do God's will. Love is the fulfilling of the law, and

love knows nothing of limits.

3. Thus the holiness of God is manifested not in righteousness only, but

in the attribute of Love. The human mind can attain to no higher

conception of the divine character than that which the word 'love'

suggests. The thought is the creation of Christianity. It was the

special contribution of one of the innermost circle of Jesus' disciples

to give utterance to the new vision of the divine nature which Christ had

disclosed--'God is love.'[54] In our Lord's teaching the centre of

gravity is entirely changed. The Jewish idea of God is enriched with a

fuller content. He is still the Holy One, but the sublimity of His

righteousness, though fully recognised, is softened by the gentler

radiance of love.[55] Jehovah the Sovereign is revealed as God the

Father. Divine righteousness is not simply justice, but goodness

manifested in far-reaching activities of mercy and pity and benevolence.

A new note is struck in the Ethics of Jesus. A new relationship is

established between God and man--a personal filial relationship which

entirely alters man's conception of life. To be perfect as our Father in

heaven is perfect, to be, and embody in life all that love means, that is

the sublime aim which Jesus in His own person and teaching sets before

the world. As God's love is universal, and His care and compassion

world-wide, so, says Christ, not by retaliation or even by the

performance of strict justice, but in loving your enemies, in returning

good for evil and extending your acts of helpfulness and charity to those

'who know not, care not, think {145} not, what they do,' shall ye become

the children of your Father, and realise something of that divine pattern

of every man which has been shown him on the holy mount.

If the view presented in this chapter of the ethical ideal of

Christianity be correct, then the doctrine of an _Interims-ethik_

advocated by modern eschatologists must be pronounced unsatisfactory as a

complete account of the teaching of Jesus.[56] The three features which

stand out most clearly in the Ethics of Christ are, Absoluteness,

Inwardness, and Universality. It is an ideal for man as man, for all

time, and for all men. The personality of God represents the highest

form of existence we know; and the love of God is the sublimest attribute

we can conceive. But because God is our Father there is a kinship

between the divine and the human; and no higher or grander vision of life

is thinkable than to be like God--to share that which is most distinctive

of the divine Fatherhood--His love of all mankind. Hence Godlikeness

involves Brotherhood.[57] In the ideal of love--high as God, broad as

the world--the other aspects of the chief good, the individual and the

social, are harmonised. In Christian Ethics, the problem of philosophy

how to unite the one and the many, egoism and altruism, has been

practically solved. The individual realises his life only as he finds

himself in others; and this he can only do as he finds himself in God.

The first and last word of all morality and religion is summed up in

Christ's twofold law of love: 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all

thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind; and thou shalt

love thy neighbour as thyself.'[58]

[1] Cf. Troeltsch, _Die Sociallehren d. Christl. Kirchen_, vol. i. p.

37, where the idea of self-worth and self-consecration is worked out.

[2] Wernle, _Beginnings of Christianity_, vol. i. p. 76.

[3] Wernle, _Beginnings of Christianity_, pp. 76 f.

[4] John x. 10.

[5] Luke xii. 15, 16.

[6] Matt. v.

[7] Matt. vi. 24.

[8] 1 John ii. 15.

[9] Luke x. 21; Matt. xi. 28-30; Mark viii. 35; John iii. 15, x. 28,

xvii. 2.

[10] John xvii. 3.

[11] Rom. xii. 1.

[12] Matt. xix. 17.

[13] Luke xvii. 33; John xii. 25.

[14] Bailey, _Festus_.

[15] Browning.

[16] Jones, _Browning as a Philosophical and Religious Teacher_, p. 354.

[17] Abt Vogler.

[18] Cf. Balch, _Introd. to the Study of Christian Ethics_, p. 150.

[19] Newman Smyth, _Christian Ethics_, p. 97.

[20] Balch, _Introd. to the Study of Christian Ethics_, p. 150.

[21] See Apocalypses of Baruch, Esdras, Enoch, and Pss. of Solomon, and

also Daniel and Ezekiel. Cf. E. F. Scott, _The Kingdom and the Messiah_,

for Apoc. literature.

[22] J. Weiss, _Die Predigt Jesu vom Reiche Gottes_. Cf. also Wernle,

_Die Anfänge unsurer Religion_, who is not so pronounced. Bousset

rejects this view, and Titius, in his _N. T. Doctrine of Blessedness_,

regards the kingdom of God as a present good. See also Moffatt, _The

Theology of the Gospels_.

[23] Cf. Dobschütz, _The Eschatology of the Gospels_, also Schweitzer,

_op. cit._, and Sanday, _The Life of Christ in Recent Research_, E.

Scott, _The Kingdom of God and the Messiah_, and Moffatt, _op. cit._

[24] Cf. Barbour, _A Philos. Study of Chr. Ethics_, p. 184.

[25] 'Jesu predigt in ihrem Gegensatz zum Judenthum.'

[26] Cairns, _Christianity in the Mod. World_, p. 173. See Schweitzer,

_The Quest of the Historical Jesus_, for advocates and opponents of this

view, pp. 222 ff. Cf. also Troeltsch, _op. cit._, vol. i. p. 35.

[27] Cf. Moffatt, _op. cit._

[28] Luke iv. 21, xvii. 21; Matt. xii. 28, xi. 2-8, xi. 20; Luke xvi.

16. Cf. also Matt. xiii. 16-17.

[29] Our Lord never uses the word 'final' or 'last' of anything

concerning the kingdom. Only in the fourth Gospel do we find the phrase

'the last day.' See art., _Contemporary Review_, Sept. 1912.

[30] The view of Weiss.

[31] Luke xii. 19; Matt xxiv. 13; Mark xiii. 13; 2 Tim. ii. 12.

[32] King, _The Ethics of Jesus_, p. 143.

[33] Mark xiii. 7-31 has been called the 'little Apocalypse' and the

hypothesis has been thrown out that a number of verses (fifteen in all)

form a document by themselves, 'a fly leaf put into circulation before

the fall of Jerusalem, and really incorporated by the Evangelist himself.

See Sanday, art., _Hibbert Journal_, Oct. 1911, and _Life of Christ in

Recent Research_.

[34] Matt. xxiv. 42.

[35] Matt. xxiv. 23.

[36] Matt. xxiv. 27.

[37] Matt. xxiv. 30.

[38] Matt. xxiv. 31.

[39] Matt. xxv.

[40] E. F. Scott, _The Kingdom and the Messiah_, p. 256.

[41] Matt. v. 48.

[42] Lev. iv. 11, xix. 2.

[43] Mark x. 18.

[44] Cf. Orr, _Sin as a Problem of To-day_, chap. iii.

[45] Cf. Jacoby, _Neu-testamentliche Ethik_, p. 1.

[46] Matt. v. 3 f.

[47] Matt. v. 17.

[48] Matt. v. 18.

[49] Matt. vi. 1-6.

[50] Matt. vi. 16-18.

[51] Matt. vii. 1-5.

[52] Matt. v. 20.

[53] Matt. v. 41.

[54] 1 John iv. 8, 16.

[55] John xvii. 11; Heb. x. 31; Rev. xv. 4.

[56] Cf. E. Digges La Touche, _The Person of Christ in Modern Thought_,

pp. 150 ff.

[57] 1 John iv. 21.

[58] Matt. xxii. 37.

{146}

CHAPTER IX

THE STANDARD AND MOTIVE OF THE NEW LIFE

In every system of Ethics the three ideas of End, Norm, and Motive are

inseparable. Christian Ethics is unique in this respect that it presents

not merely a code of morals, but an ideal of good embodied in a person

who is at once the pattern and inspiration of the new life. In this

chapter we propose to consider these two elements of the good.

_Christ as Example_.--The value of 'concrete examples' has been

frequently recognised in non-Christian systems. In the 'philosopher

king' of Plato, the 'expert' of Aristotle, and the 'wise man' of the

Stoics we have the imaginary embodiment of the ideal. A similar tendency

is apparent in modern theories. Comte invests the abstract idea of

'Humanity' with certain personal perfections for which he claims homage.

But what other systems have conceived in an imaginative form only,

Christianity has realised in an actual person.

The example of Christ is not a separate source of authority independent

of His teaching, but rather its witness and illustration. Word and deed

in Jesus are in full agreement. He was what He taught, and every truth

He uttered flowed directly from His inner nature. He is the prototype

and expression of the 'good' as it exists in the mind of God, as well as

the perfect representative and standard of it in human life. In Him is

manifested for all time what is meant by the good.

{147}

1. If Christ is the normative standard of life it is extremely important

to obtain a true perception of Him as He dwelt among men. But too often

have theology and art presented a Christ embellished with fantastic

colours or obscured by abstract speculations. Recently, however, there

has been a revival of interest in the actual life of Jesus. Men are

turning wistfully to the life of the Master for guidance in practical

matters, and it is beginning to dawn upon the world that the highest

ideals of manhood were present in the Carpenter of Nazareth. We must

therefore go back to the Gospels if we would know what manner of man

Jesus was. The difficulty of presenting the Man Christ Jesus as the

eternal example to the world must have been almost insurmountable; and we

are at once struck with two remarkable features of the synoptics'

portrayal of Him. (1) The writers make no attempt to produce a work of

art. They never dream that they are drawing a model for all men to copy.

There is no effort to touch up or tone down the portrait. They simply

reflect what they see without admixture of colours of their own. Hence

the paradox of His personality--the intense humanness and yet the mystery

of godliness ever and anon shining through the commonest incidents of His

life. (2) Even more remarkable than the absence of subjectivity on the

part of the evangelists is the unconsciousness of Jesus that He is being

portrayed as an example. We do not receive the impression that the Son

of Man was consciously living for the edification of the world. His

mental attitude is not that of an actor playing a part, but of a true and

genuine man living his own life and fulfilling his own purpose. There is

no seeming or display. Goodness to be effectual as an example must be

unconscious goodness. We are impressed everywhere with the perfect

naturalness and spontaneity of all that Christ did and uttered.[1]

The character of Jesus has been variously interpreted, and it is one of

the evidences of His moral greatness that each age has emphasised some

new aspect of His {148} personality. In a nature so rich and complex it

is difficult to fix upon a single category from which may be deduced the

manifold attributes of His character. Two conceptions of Jesus have

generally prevailed down the centuries. One view interprets His

character in terms of asceticism; the other in terms of aestheticism.[2]

Some regard Him as the representative of Hebrew sorrow and sacrifice;

others see in Him the type of Hellenic joy and geniality. There are

passages in Scripture confirmatory of both impressions. On the one hand,

there is a whole series of virtues of the passive order which are utterly

alien to the Greek ideal; and, on the other hand, there is equally

prominent a tone of tranquil gladness, of broad sympathy with, and keen

appreciation of, the beautiful in nature and life which contrasts with

the spirit of Hebrew abnegation. But, after all, neither of these traits

reveals the secret of Jesus. Joy and sorrow are but incidents in life.

They have only moral value as the vehicles of a profounder spiritual

purpose. To help every man to realise the fullness and perfection of his

being as a child of God is the aim of His life and ministry, and

everything that furthers this end is gratefully recognised by Him as a

good. He neither courts nor shuns pain. Neither joy nor sorrow is for

Him an end in itself. Both are but incidents upon the way of holiness

and love which He had chosen to travel.

2. Everywhere there was manifest in the life and teaching of Jesus a

note of _self-mastery and authority_ which impressed His contemporaries

and goes far to explain and unify the various features of His personality

and influence. It is remarkable to notice how often the word 'power' is

applied to Jesus in the New Testament.[3] Whether we regard His attitude

to God, or His relation to others, it is this note of quiet strength, of

vital moral force which arrests our attention. It will be sufficient to

mention in passing three directions in which this quality of power is

manifest.

{149}

(1) It is revealed in the consciousness of a _divine mission_. He goes

steadily forward with the calmness of one who knows himself and his work.

He has no fear or hesitancy. Courage, earnestness, and singleness of

purpose mark His career. He is conscious that His task has been given

Him by God, and that He is the chosen instrument of His Father's will.

Life has a greatness and worth for Him because it may be made the

manifestation and vehicle of the divine purpose.

(2) His power is revealed again in the _realisation of Holiness_.

Holiness is to be differentiated, on the one hand, from innocence; and,

on the other, from sinlessness. Innocence is untried goodness;

sinlessness is negative goodness; holiness is achieved and victorious

goodness. It was not mere absence of sin that distinguished Jesus. His

was a purity won by temptation, an obedience perfected through suffering,

a peace and harmony of soul attained not by self-suppression, but by the

consecration of His unfolding life to the will of God.

(3) His power is manifested once more in His _Sympathy with man_. His

purity was pervasive. It flowed forth in acts of love. He went about

doing good, invading the world of darkness and sorrow with light and joy.

It is the wealth of His interests and the variety of His sympathy which

give to the ministry of the Son of Man its impressiveness and charm.

With gladness as with grief, with the playfulness of childhood and the

earnestness of maturity, with the innocent festivities and the graver

pursuits of His fellow-men, with the cares of the rich and the trials of

the poor, He disclosed the most intimate and tender feeling. His

parables show that He had an open and observant eye for all the life

around Him. To every appeal He responded with an insight and delicacy of

consideration which betokened that He Himself had sounded the depths of

human experience and knew what was in man. Humour, irony, and pathos in

turn are revealed in His human intercourse.

But while Jesus delighted to give of Himself freely He knew also how to

withhold Himself. There can be no true {150} sympathy without restraint.

The passive virtues--meekness, patience, forbearance--which appear in the

life of Christ are 'not the signs of mere self-mortification, they are

the signs of power in reserve. They are the marks of one who can afford

to wait, who expects to suffer; and that not because he is simply meek

and lowly, but because he is also strong and calm.'[4]

The New Testament depicts Jesus as made in the likeness of men, whose

life, though unique in some of its aspects, was in its general conditions

normal, passing through the ordinary stages of growth, and participating

in the common experiences of mankind. He had to submit to the same laws

and limitations of the universe as we have. There was the same call, in

His case as in ours, to obedience and endurance. There was the same

demand for moral decision. Temptation, suffering, and toil, which mean

so much for man in the discipline of character, were factors also in the

spiritual development of Christ. Trust, prayer, thanksgiving were

exercised by the Son of Man as by others; confession alone had no place

in His life.

3. The question has been seriously asked, Can the example and teaching

of Jesus be really adopted in modern life as the pattern and rule of

conduct? Is there not something strangely impracticable in His Ethics;

and, however admirably suited to meet the needs of His own time, utterly

inapplicable to the complex conditions of society to-day? On the one

hand, Tolstoy would have us follow the example of Jesus to the letter,

and rigidly practise the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount, even to the

extent of refusing to resist wrong and possess property, and of holding

aloof from all culture and enterprise, and the interests of life

generally. On the other hand, philosophers like Paulsen and Bradley,

perceiving the utter impracticableness of Tolstoy's contentions, yet at

the same time recognising his attitude as the only consistent one if the

imitation of Christ is to have vogue at all, are convinced that the

earthly life of Jesus is not the model of our {161} age, and that to

attempt to carry out His precepts consistently would be not only

impossible but injurious to all the higher interests of humanity.[5]

But this conclusion is based, it seems to us, upon a two-fold

misapprehension. It is founded upon an inadequate interpretation of the

life and teaching of Christ; and also upon a wholly mechanical

understanding of the meaning and value of example.

(1) What was Christ's ideal of the Christian life? Was it that of the

monk or the citizen?--the recluse who meditates apart on his own

salvation, or the worker who enters the world and contributes to the

betterment of mankind? Is the kingdom of God a realm apart and separate

from all the other domains of activity? Or has Christianity, according

to its essence, room within it for an application of its truth to the

complex relations and manifold interests of modern life? Both views have

found expression in the history of the Church. But there can be little

doubt as to which is the true interpretation of the mind of Jesus.[6]

(2) But, again, what is meant by the 'imitation of Christ' has been also

misconceived. Imitation is not a literal mechanical copying. To make

the character of another your model does not mean that you are to become

his mimic or echo. In asking us to follow Him, Christ does not desire to

suppress our individuality, but to enrich and ennoble it. When He says,

on the occasion of the feet-washing of His disciples, 'I have given you

an example, that ye should do as I have done to you,'[7] obviously it was

not the outward literal performance, but the spirit of humility and

service embodied in the act which He desired His disciples to emulate.

From another soul we receive incentives rather than rules. No teacher or

master, says Emerson, can {152} realise for us what is good.[8] Within

our own souls alone can the decision be made. We cannot hope to

interpret the character of another until there be within our own breasts

the same moral spirit from which we believe his conduct to proceed. The

very nature of goodness forbids slavish reproduction. Hence there is a

certain sense in which the paradox of Kant is true, that 'imitation finds

no place at all in morality.'[9] The question, 'What would Jesus do?' as

a test of conduct covers a quite inadequate conception of the intimate

and vital relations Christ bears to our humanity. 'It is not to copy

after Christ,' says a modern writer, 'but to receive His spirit and make

it effective--which is the moral task of the Christian.'[10] Christ is

indeed our example, but He is more. And unless He were more He could not

be so much. We could not strive to be like Him if He were not already

within us, the Principle and Spirit of our life, the higher and diviner

self of every man.

What is meant, then, by saying that Christ is the ideal character or norm

of life is that He represents to us human nature in its typical or ideal

form. As we behold His perfection we feel that this is what we were made

for, this is the true end of our being. Every one may, in short, see in

Him the fulfilment of the divine idea and purpose of man--the conception

and end of himself.[11]

II

_The Christian Motive_.--Rightly regarded Christ is not only the model of

the new life, but its motive as well. All the great appeals of the

Gospel--every persuasion and plea by which God seeks to awaken a

responsive love in the hearts of men--are centred in, and find expression

through, the Person and Passion of Christ.

1. The question of motive is a primary one in Ethics. {153} If,

therefore, we ask, What is the deepest spring of action, what is the

incentive and motive power for the Christian? The answer is: (1) the

love of God, a love which finds its highest expression in _Forgiveness_.

Of all motives the most powerful is the sense of being pardoned. Even

when it is only one human being who forgives another, nothing strikes so

deep into the human heart or evokes penitence so tender and unreserved,

or brings a joy so pure and lasting. It not only restores the old

relation which wrong had dissolved; it gives the offender a sense of

loyalty unknown before. He is now bound not by law but by honour, and it

would be a disloyalty worse than the original offence if he wounded such

love again. Thus it is that God becomes the object of reverence and

affection, not because He imposes laws upon us but because He pardons and

redeems. The consciousness of forgiveness is far more potent in

producing goodness than the consciousness of law. This psychological

fact lay at the root of Christ's ministry, and was the secret of His hope

for man. This, too, is the key to all that is paradoxical, and, at the

same time, to all that is most characteristic in St Paul's Gospel. What

the Law could not do, forgiveness achieves. It creates the new heart,

and with it the new holiness. 'It is not anything statutory which makes

saints out of sinful men; it is the forgiveness which comes through the

passion of Jesus.'[12]

(2) Next to the motive of forgiveness, and indeed arising from it, is the

new consciousness of the _Fatherhood of God_, and the corresponding idea

of sonship. This was a motive to which Jesus habitually appealed. He

invariably sought not only to create in men confidence in God by

revealing His fatherly providence, but also to lift them out of their

apathy and thraldom by kindling in their souls a sense of their worth and

liberty as sons of God. The same thought is prominent also in the

epistles both of St. Paul and St. John. As children of God we are no

longer menials and hirelings who do their work merely for pay, and

without {154} intelligent interest, but sons who share our Father's

possessions and co-operate with Him in His purposes.[13]