Now consciousness, both in its physical and psychical aspects, is

manifested by the response of an organism to its environment, and in the

case of organisms characterised by the possession of brain, more

particularly by the power to register sensation. Human consciousness is

achieved largely by an ability to perceive and register _contrast_ in

the impressions conveyed to the understanding, and it is the exercising

of this faculty which leads to an established recognition of Moral Law.

Appreciation of the existence of shadow and darkness presupposes the

existence of light, and distinction between these contrasts is

summarised by the sense of sight. In like manner, the perception of

truth rests upon the power to recognise falsehood, and an estimation of

what constitutes honesty on a corresponding idea of dishonesty. The

sensation of pleasure is obtained from the possession of a

correspondingly acute capacity to feel pain, discrimination placing

value on either polaric contrary proportionate to the sensory capacity

involved. In short, the register of abstract qualities is more or less

dependent upon an appreciation of their antitheses--the moral worth of

virtue being determinable by the degree of perceptive discrimination

displayed in recognition of its contrast. Just as vision is a result of

light, only known to us as vision and formulated as such by reason of

its contrast or absence, darkness, which spells blindness, so the idea

of good is only known to us by force of its contrast, evil. Registration

of the alternating sides of the swing of this polaric machinery of sense

makes for an advance in moral and spiritual, as well as in physical

consciousness. Evil, on the moral plane of consideration, is as entirely

a result of ignorance and absence of good as blindness on the physical

plane of actuality is the consequence of perpetual darkness, or

insensibility to light. The negative elements of both conditions possess

a potential possibility of transmutation into positive elements--the

operation of psychical and physical alchemism forming the dual

revelation of a God of Love, whereby those who are blind in spirit and

body are made to see, to the end that the whole consciousness of man may

be confirmed by his increasing knowledge of the glory of his Creator.

To be unable to suffer would entail insensibility to pleasure, and no

moral meaning could in this case be evolved from and attached to the

idea of feeling. But it is precisely by reason of his attainment of a

high degree of consciousness, manifested by the ability to register

sensation, that man can claim a comparatively high position in the

evolutionary scale; and if suffering and death be indeed a result of his

prehistoric interference with an originally painless scheme of Creation,

it is difficult to reconcile the benefits he appears to have thereby

gained with the idea of such being a punishment for his wrong-doing

inflicted upon him by God. For since perception of contrast in abstract

quality is absolutely necessary for the obtaining of conscience on the

moral plane of thought--that is, for recognition of good and evil, and

for the ability to transmute evil into good--it follows that where such

perception does not exist there can be no moral responsibility attaching

to individual action, no possibility of attaining a dominant spiritual

consciousness, and no question of sharing the redemptive mission of

Love. In the words of Christ, "If ye were blind, ye should have no sin:

but now ye say, We see; therefore your sin remaineth" (St John ix. 41).

It is conceivable that just as that which to the eyes of men appears as

darkness is not in the same degree dark to creatures whose habits have

developed visual organs differing from those of man, so on the moral

plane that which appears as evil to one man may to his differently

developed brother seem less evil, and to creatures less highly organised

than man, even good. No quality, physical, moral or spiritual, can be

restricted or finally actualised; and no one man's opinion of what is

estimable can stand as a perfectly true expression of any but his own

ideas.

To sum up. The existence of pain is as necessary to the appreciation of

pleasure as the existence of evil is to the appreciation of good.

Therefore we may regard the sliding scale of consciousness as a register

of sensation, a scale adapted to actual physical life and necessary for

its continuity and development; and a scale which has its exact

psychical counterpart in moral ideals, from which the evolving

aspirations and perceptions of men reach out towards spiritual life. The

degree of all quality, physical and moral, appears to be primarily

dependent upon the capacity to feel--the capacity of consciousness. And

upon the perception of contrast rests the possibility of attaining to a

dominant plane of spiritual consciousness, and the power to become an

active and willing agent in the divinely ordered transmuting,

redemptive, and progressive government of life.

It is especially with regard to the spiritual consciousness of man, and

of man's participation in the divine government of life, that the

doctrine of Christ controverts the idea of suffering as an evil. In His

verbal teaching, and in His rite of communion established as a symbolic

epitome of His spiritual convictions, there is a clear acknowledgment of

the fundamental unity of Nature--a basic point of argument which is also

adopted to-day by every scientist in all departments of research. Christ

laid particular emphasis upon the spiritual unity of man with God, He

Himself speaking as a son of God--a manifestation of the divine Spirit

of Life. He urged the following of His example upon His disciples,

trying to open the blind eyes and deaf ears of men who had as yet so

imperfect an understanding of spiritual things. He tried to teach them

to look at life from His point of view. Did He not regard the son of man

as the expression of God, recognition of which spiritual truth gave

Him, as it can give to all, assurance of eternal life? The Spirit of

Life which is in every man cannot die, for it is part of God, who is

Life without beginning and without end. Only the expression or medium of

spirit, only the finite form, is mortal. Spirit is infinite and

immortal.

Such sayings as the following, attributed to Christ and His disciples,

are expressive of the relation of man to God, and each may be seen to

form a logical corollary of the other:--

"I and my Father are one" (St John x. 30). This is the simple summary of

Christ's conviction of fundamental union between the Spirit of Life,

God, and manifested being.

"My Father is greater than I" (St John xiv. 28) expresses the fact that

the Spirit of Life as a whole is greater than its manifested parts,

although those parts are contained by the whole and are at one with the

whole.

"He that hath seen me hath seen the Father" (St John xiv. 9). Here

Christ speaks of Himself as a manifested part of the Spirit of Life, in

which sense every man can see in his fellow-creatures the same

manifested Spirit, who is God. He who looks at the son of man as the

incarnate Son of God is following the example of Christ, who taught the

brotherhood of man.

"No man hath seen God at any time" (St John i. 18)--shows the futility

of imagining it possible to confine the supreme Spirit of Life in any

one form at any one period of time. All form is manifested Spirit, but

the Spirit of Life is not only in all, but over all.

The following, among very many other sayings, are also susceptible of

the same interpretation:--

"I came from the Father, and am come into the world; again, I leave the

world, and go to the Father" (St John xvi. 28).

"As the Father hath life in himself, so hath he given to the Son to have

life in himself" (St John v. 26).

This doctrine of Christ, indicative of His sense of union between God as

the supreme Spirit of Life and of individual being--a union unbroken by

the incidents of birth and death attendant upon the manifestation of the

Spirit--harmonises with the scientific doctrine of the unity of nature,

and if accepted as a fundamental clue to His reported words and deeds,

very many of the difficulties and supposed inconsistencies apparent in a

purely ecclesiastical interpretation of His person and mission melt

away, leaving a beautiful coherency of religious truth in accord with

the revelations of natural science.

When men look at life from Christ's point of view, thereby attaining

recognition of God as their Father, they become spiritual creatures who

hold the moral responsibility of their beings in trust to the Spirit of

Life. Christ lived in advance of the intellectual thought of His day,

having intuitive knowledge of the unity of nature, but no scientific

evidence to offer in its support. But His life and doctrine afford

convincing illustrations of His spiritual convictions, and the key to

the mystery of His miraculous works of love may perhaps be found in our

realisation of His sense of kinship with all living creatures. His

acquiescence with natural laws, known by Him to be the working of the

will of the Spirit of Life, gave Him influence over all persons with

whom He was able to establish a spiritual relation--with all who were

willing to co-operate with Him in the alchemistic law of love. His own

self-command gave Him dominion over those weaker than Himself, who did

not resist His will, who, in the language of Scripture, "had faith in

Him." Without such faith we are told He could do no mighty works. But

given this receptive attitude of mind, He was able to infuse strength

into a sick person and thus to stimulate the Spirit to resume its normal

correspondence with the functions of the flesh.

Realisation of union with God as the supreme Spirit of Life entails an

awakening to the significance of the unity of nature, and calls for an

adjustment of the physical equipment of sense into accord with what is

perceived to be the will of the Spirit of Life. With the desire to be at

one with the Will of God, consciousness of those influences hitherto

dimly apprehended to control existence as though by autocratic law,

widens into perception of a progressive government of the whole of life,

in the ordinance of which men may take an active part. Here, surely, is

that recognition of God possible to all, to which Christ referred in the

words, "God is a Spirit, and they that worship him must worship him in

spirit and in truth" (St John iv). This is that heaven of light and

truth, to be excluded from which is to dwell in the outer darkness of

spiritual ignorance. And this is the new birth unto righteousness with a

death unto sin which is the epitome of the ethical teaching of Christ.

But, it will be asked, how does this view of life eliminate suffering as

an evil from the world? How can it be shown that disease and death, the

fear and danger of which cast a perpetual shadow over life, are not evil

things, responsible as such for the suffering of all creatures? Granted

that man has attained his present high position in the evolutionary

scale chiefly through his ability to feel, to suffer; granted that the

establishment of morality, brought about largely by registration of

contrast in sensation, leads directly to realisation of spiritual life;

granted that we may be privileged thereby to exercise a transmuting

influence upon evil and its effects, thus making us partakers in the

progressive government of life; if our future evolution, proceeding on

the same lines of development, entails an ever greater capacity to

suffer, is it a desirable thing? Have not less highly organised

creatures, with correspondingly lower degrees of consciousness and with

less knowledge of the governing principle of life and their own

responsibility towards that government, happier lives than men? Whither

are we tending? What is the ultimate goal of the recurring cycle of

birth and death, manifested by the operation of natural laws, in the

general scheme of life in which the evolution of man is but a part?

The welfare of individual man has no meaning apart from its relation to

the benefit of mankind as a progressive whole. If a man participate in

the common habits of his fellows, he must take his share in those

dangers to individual existence which the development of his race

necessitates. The advantages which we to-day derive from our employment

of social and scientific contrivances common to civilised communities

have been wrought from the effort and suffering of men of past times. We

are debtors to our ancestors who, by their own labour and sacrifice,

have given us a better equipment for the battle of life than was their

own inheritance from their forefathers. We are under an obligation to

our race which, whether we discharge it willingly or no, is drawn from

us by the operation of forces beyond our own control, as the just

equivalent of our gain. We cannot separate ourselves, humanly speaking,

from our kind. Inasmuch as the spirit of humanity reaches out towards

immortality from one generation to another, our lives are not our own.

Rather are they hostages to fortune, to that evolutionary principle

which, while allowing us as individuals to participate in the benefits

actualised to-day as the results of the labours of past generations of

men, also exacts from us our own contribution towards the slow

perfecting of our kind.

It is indubitable that suffering is an important factor in the evolution

of the mind as well as of the body of man. Inefficiency and defect in

scientific and social contrivances are made apparent by accident, which,

having entailed human suffering, is therefore productive of effort to

rectify the cause of danger, and thus of reducing the risk of further

punishment.

Could perfect correspondence between an organism and its environment be

perpetually maintained, physical death could only occur as the final

stage in the gradual decline of the medium of the spirit. Such natural

dissolution appears to be part of the order of manifested life,

requisite for its continuity and for the evolution of species, and

necessary for the development of the spiritual desire for immortality.

It is not of necessity a painful process, since the slow decline in

physical vitality implies a corresponding decrease in sensibility, or,

in other words, a decrease of physical consciousness. Premature death,

the result of disease and accident, and accompanied by more or less

suffering, constitutes the wages of ignorance, and only in this sense

can pain and death be said to be a punishment for sin inflicted by God.

If man, individually and socially, does not know how to protect himself

from danger, he must pay the penalty for ignorance. Only a perfected

organism, maintaining a permanent correspondence with its environment,

could be permanently capable of combating physical death. And since the

cycle of the birth and death of all forms of life constitutes the

central principle of natural law, it is difficult to imagine an eventual

eternal preservation of individual physical life to be the ordained end

of the evolution of humanity.

When life is looked at as a whole--a point of view entailing perception

of God as the supreme Spirit of Life informing and governing all

matter--there appears no injustice in the suffering of the human race,or

of other organisms whose evolution requires their conscious

susceptibility to environment. Men must suffer for their ignorance in

order to become wise, and to get wisdom they must eat from the tree of

good and evil. Those who are ignorant of what is necessary for the

preservation of health receive the wages of their imperfection--suffering,

and premature death unto the third and fourth generations--not as the

vindictive vengeance of an offended Deity, but as the remedial

vindication of a persisting will of love, a transmuting process which

must endure until the result of fatal ignorance is expurgated from a

progressive world.

If individual thought, individual free-will and action, were more

generally recognised to be the prime factors by which human evolution is

forwarded or deterred; if concern for the preservation of individual

advantage were dominated by a desire to promote the welfare of the race;

if the willing transmutation by vicarious suffering of the effects of

evil into elements of good were more readily accepted as the privilege

of the members of the communion of love; we are justified in believing

that unnatural suffering and death, with their manifold accompaniment of

sorrow and fear, would be gradually eliminated from the lives of men

according as they grew into a more perfect wisdom and understanding of

the meaning and purpose of life.

Like Christ, we must be perfected through suffering. The whole creation

groaneth and travaileth together, to the end that the incarnate purpose

of life may be fulfilled, and that the increasing sum of the spiritual

consciousness of creation may be brought into co-operation with the

Divine Creator and so actively and willingly share in the divine

government of life.

V

THE VESTURE OF GOD

WHEN Paul of Tarsus reproved the men of Athens for ignorantly

worshipping an unknown God, he was virtually denouncing the tendency

towards idolatry which is inherent in all religious symbolism. Public

worship of an unknown and unseen God must be more or less symbolic in

order to express any particular idea of the nature of the supposed

divinity. But a stranger in a strange land, uninitiated into the

symbolism of the religious faith there practised, is apt to infer

idolatry in the ritual he witnesses simply because he cannot

discriminate between the thing seen and its esoteric significance. The

programme of Christianity delivered by St Paul to the Athenians

practically excluded ceremony as a necessary accompaniment of worship.

He preached a known God, a seen God, revealed in the person of Jesus

Christ, and requiring no likening unto gold, silver, or stone images,

graven by art and men's devices.

It is noteworthy that every religion in its infancy is but sparely

attended by forms and ceremonies, the more or less elaborate ritual that

accompanies its subsequent growth being an almost inevitable result of

its consolidation into a definite creed which shall stand as the

supposed likeness of its original spiritual conception. This rise of

ritual is largely responsible for the need of periodical reform which is

a common occurrence in the development of every religion that has

outlived its infancy. The history of Christianity, with which alone we

have here to deal, affords recurring examples of agitation directed

against a perverted religious symbolism--a dangerous degeneration which,

by crushing the spirit beneath the letter of observance, leads to

hypocritical and idolatrous practices.

It is difficult to think that St Paul, when condemning the symbolic

worship of the Athenians and Ephesians, foresaw the growth of that

elaborate ritual, formulated gradually as symbolic evidence of Christian

doctrine, which has become so inextricably a part of the Catholic faith

as taught in the Church to-day. Christ's remark, "Except ye be

converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the

kingdom of heaven" (Matt. xviii. 3), might with advantage be applied to

religious organisations as well as to individuals. But although as a

reformer of the Jewish faith He denounced symbolism, which had become

corrupt, inasmuch as undue stress was laid upon the letter to the

neglect of the spirit of the law, He yet submitted to the ordinance of

the law in all particulars, perceiving that a proper attention to the

spirit did not necessarily entail neglect of the letter of its

observance. He was a reformer, not an iconoclast. He came not to

destroy, but to fulfil. But His outspoken denunciation of the

hypocritical and idolatrous practices of the Scribes and Pharisees

roused an active hostility to His teaching, since reversion to the

simple ethical principles such as was advocated by the later prophets,

with a proper appreciation of symbolism as symbolism, implied the

downfall of those whose tenure of authority over the masses of the

people depended upon the strict maintenance of a complicated and

mystifying ritual.

Symbolic worship is an attestation to an unseen God, its ostensible

purpose being of course that a gradual revelation of God may be

vouchsafed to the pious devotees of sacraments and ceremonies. The

inaugurator of a rite, desiring to express his ideas of abstract or

absolute truth, contrives a symbol, a work of art that shall stand as

the likeness of his thoughts--a likeness capable of carrying

significance according to the discriminating intelligence of all who may

behold it. He cannot be held responsible for any subsequent confounding

of his artistic symbol with its esoteric meaning; but to those who

cannot distinguish between an image and its significance--who interpret

the letter as synonymous with the spirit of a rite--the observance of

symbolic worship becomes perforce an introductory step towards idolatry,

the practice of which is fatal to intellectual and spiritual progress.

Not only with regard to religion, but in every branch of art, in the

common habits of daily life, in the very language that clothes thought,

this dangerous tendency of the human mind towards idolatry may be

observed. Thus, worship of beauty for beauty's sake is idolatrous. But

its recognition as the outward sign of inner grace is one of the lay

sacraments of life which link the real to the ideal realm of thought and

give an added glory to human existence. Is not man a dual creature? Is

not his body an artistic expression of the divine Spirit of Life, in

whose likeness he is made? And are not his works representations of his

creative and executive powers, even as the works of nature are

representations of the supreme Spirit of Life?

The minds of individuals, as of races, find expression in their works,

the worth of all artistic symbols of endeavour (whether of so-called

secular or sacred significance) being determined by the evidential

testimony they convey of abstract and absolute truth. Now, illumination

of unproven supposition being prefatory to its establishment as fact,

the evidence of things unseen and unknown is resolved into the

foundation of comprehension. The execution of a work of art is only

truly estimable when its realism affords an adequate expression of its

maker's mind--when, in short, it forms the outward sign of inward

meaning, and is recognisable as such.

Thus considered, words stand as symbols, language being evidence of

thought. The extent of a man's vocabulary may be taken as a fair

criterion of his ideas about the things of which his words are the

expression, always supposing he does not fall into idolatrous worship of

words as words, to the neglect of their proper significance and value.

Again, figures as symbols of calculative thought, while valueless in

themselves, are of inestimable importance when rightly utilised as an

effective means to an end. Through the science of mathematics, the

relation between magnitudes only conceivable to the mathematician by his

employment of calculative symbols, can be correctly ascertained, and a

working hypothesis for practical purposes thereby obtained. Mathematical

formulæ thus regarded appear as the outer signs of a reasoning process

that resolves the unseen and unknown into proven facts.

The rituals of religious creeds, regarded as combinations of symbols as

infinite in variety and arrangement as the needs of men, may surely be

designated as works of art if it be remembered that admiration and

imitation of natural objects is mainly responsible for the conception of

those several deities whose supposed supernatural authority forms the

summit of each particular creed, and whose character stands not only as

a summary of a people's appreciation of what is admirable in human

conduct, but also as an expression of artistic feeling.

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