to the question, how much is a man better than a sheep? We must
say: He is a little better, but not much. In some things he has
the advantage. He lives longer, and has more powers of action
and capacities of pleasure. He is more clever, and has succeeded
in making the sheep subject to his domination. But the balance is
not all on one side. The sheep has fewer pains as well as fewer
pleasures, less care as well as less power. If it does not know how
to make a coat, at least it succeeds in growing its own natural wool
clothing, and that without taxation. Above all, the sheep is not
troubled with any of those vain dreams of moral responsibility and
future life which are the cause of such great and needless trouble
to humanity. The flocks that fed in the pastures of Bethlehem got
just as much physical happiness out of existence as the shepherd,
David, who watched them, and, being natural agnostics, they were
free from David's delusions in regard to religion. They could give
all their attention to eating, drinking, and sleeping, which is the
chief end of life. From the materialistic standpoint, a man may be a
little better than a sheep, but not much.
Or suppose, in the second place, that we take the commercial view of
life. We shall then say that all things must be measured by their
money value, and that it is neither profitable nor necessary to
inquire into their real nature or their essential worth. Men and
sheep are worth what they will bring in the open market, and this
depends upon the supply and demand. Sheep of a very rare breed
have been sold for as much as five or six thousand dollars. But
men of common stock, in places where men are plenty and cheap (as,
for example, in Central Africa), may be purchased for the price
of a rusty musket or a piece of cotton cloth. According to this
principle, we must admit that the comparative value of a man and a
sheep fluctuates with the market, and that there are times when the
dumb animal is much the more valuable of the two.
This view, carried out to its logical conclusion, led to slavery,
and put up men and sheep at auction on the same block, to be
disposed of to the highest bidder. We have gotten rid of the logical
conclusion. But have we gotten rid entirely of the premise on which
it rested? Does not the commercial view of life still prevail in
civilized society?
There is a certain friend of mine who often entertains me with an
account of the banquets which he has attended. On one occasion he
told me that two great railroads and the major part of all the sugar
and oil in the United States sat down at the same table with three
gold-mines and a line of steamships.
"How much is that man worth?" asks the curious inquirer. "That
man," answers some walking business directory, "is worth a million
dollars; and the man sitting next to him is not worth a penny." What
other answer can be given by one who judges everything by a money
standard? If wealth is really the measure of value, if the end of
life is the production or the acquisition of riches, then humanity
must take its place in the sliding scale of commodities. Its value
is not fixt and certain. It depends upon accidents of trade. We
must learn to look upon ourselves and our fellow men purely from a
business point of view and to ask only: What can this man make? how
much has that man made? how much can I get out of this man's labor?
how much will that man pay for my services? Those little children
that play in the squalid city streets--they are nothing to me or to
the world; there are too many of them; they are worthless. Those
long-fleeced, high-bred sheep that feed upon my pastures--they are
among my most costly possessions; they will bring an enormous price;
they are immensely valuable. How much is a man better than a sheep?
What a foolish question! Sometimes the man is better; sometimes the
sheep is better. It all depends upon the supply and demand.
Now these two views of life, the materialistic and the commercial,
always have prevailed in the world. Men have held them consciously
and unconsciously. At this very day there are some who profess
them, and there are many who act upon them, altho they may not be
willing to acknowledge them. They have been the parents of countless
errors in philosophy and sociology; they have bred innumerable and
loathsome vices and shames and cruelties and oppressions in the
human race. It was to shatter and destroy these falsehoods, to sweep
them away from the mind and heart of humanity, that Jesus came into
the world. We can not receive His gospel in any sense, we can not
begin to understand its scope and purpose, unless we fully, freely,
and sincerely accept His great revelation of the true meaning and
value of man as man.
We say this was His revelation. Undoubtedly it is true that Christ
came to reveal God to man. But undoubtedly it is just as true that
He came to reveal man to himself. He called Himself the Son of God,
but He called Himself also the Son of man. His nature was truly
divine, but His nature was no less truly human. He became man. And
what is the meaning of that lowly birth, in the most helpless form
of infancy, if it be not to teach us that humanity is so related to
Deity that it is capable of receiving and embodying God Himself? He
died for man. And what is the meaning of that sacrifice, if it be
not to teach us that God counts no price too great to pay for the
redemption of the human soul? This gospel of our Lord and Savior
Jesus Christ contains the highest, grandest, most ennobling doctrine
of humanity that ever has been proclaimed on earth. It is the only
certain cure for low and debasing views of life. It is the only
doctrine from which we can learn to think of ourselves and our
fellow men as we ought to think. I ask you to consider for a little
while the teachings of Jesus Christ in regard to what it means to be
a man.
Suppose, then, that we come to Him with this question: How much is
a man better than a sheep? He will tell us that a man is infinitely
better, because he is the child of God, because he is capable of
fellowship with God, and because he is made for an immortal life.
And this threefold answer will shine out for us not only in the
words, but also in the deeds, and above all in the death, of the Son
of God and the Son of man.
1. Think, first of all, of the meaning of manhood in the light of
the truth that man is the offspring and likeness of God. This was
not a new doctrine first proclaimed by Christ. It was clearly taught
in the magnificent imagery of the book of Genesis. The chief design
of that great picture of the beginnings is to show that a personal
Creator is the source and author of all things that are made. But
next to that, and of equal importance, is the design to show that
man is incalculably superior to all the other works of God--that the
distance between him and the lower animals is not a difference in
degree, but a difference in kind. Yes, the difference is so great
that we must use a new word to describe the origin of humanity, and
if we speak of the stars and the earth, the trees and the flowers,
the fishes, the birds, and the beasts, as "the works" of God, when
man appears we must find a nobler name and say, "This is more than
God's work; he is God's child."
Our human consciousness confirms this testimony and answers to it.
We know that there is something in us which raises us infinitely
above the things that we see and hear and touch, and the creatures
that appear to spend their brief life in the automatic workings
of sense and instinct. These powers of reason and affection and
conscience, and above all this wonderful power of free will, the
faculty of swift, sovereign, voluntary choice, belong to a higher
being. We say not to corruption, "Thou art my father," nor to the
worm, "Thou art my mother"; but to God, "Thou art my father," and to
the great Spirit, "In thee was my life born."
Not only cunning casts in clay:
Let science prove we are, and then
What matters science unto men,
At least to me? I would not stay.
Let him, the wiser man who springs
Hereafter, up from childhood shape
His action like the greater ape;
But I was born to other things.
Frail as our physical existence may be, in some respects the most
frail, the most defenseless among animals, we are yet conscious of
something that lifts us up and makes us supreme. "Man," says Pascal,
"is but a reed, the feeblest thing in nature; but he is a reed that
thinks. It needs not that the universe arm itself to crush him. An
exhalation, a drop of water, suffice to destroy him. But were the
universe to crush him, man is yet nobler than the universe; for he
knows that he dies, and the universe, even in prevailing against
him, knows not its power."
Now the beauty and strength of Christ's doctrine of man lie, not
in the fact that He was at pains to explain and defend and justify
this view of human nature, but in the fact that He assumed it with
an unshaken conviction of its truth, and acted upon it always and
everywhere. He spoke to man, not as the product of nature, but as
the child of God. He took it for granted that we are different from
plants and animals, and that we are conscious of the difference.
"Consider the lilies," He says to us; "the lilies can not consider
themselves: they know not what they are, nor what their life means;
but you know, and you can draw the lesson of their lower beauty into
your higher life. Regard the birds of the air; they are dumb and
unconscious dependents upon the divine bounty, but you are conscious
objects of the divine care. Are you not of more value than many
sparrows?" Through all His words we feel the thrilling power of
this high doctrine of humanity. He is always appealing to reason,
to conscience, to the power of choice between good and evil, to the
noble and godlike faculties in man.
And now think for a moment of the fact that His life was
voluntarily, and of set purpose, spent among the poorest and
humblest of mankind. Remember that He spoke, not to philosophers
and scholars, but to peasants and fishermen and the little children
of the world. What did He mean by that? Surely it was to teach us
that this doctrine of the meaning of manhood applies to man as
man. It is not based upon considerations of wealth or learning or
culture or eloquence. Those are the things of which the world takes
account, and without which it refuses to pay any attention to us. A
mere man, in the eyes of the world, is a nobody. But Christ comes
to humanity in its poverty, in its ignorance, stript of all outward
signs of power, destitute of all save that which belongs in common
to mankind; to this lowly child, this very beggar-maid of human
nature, comes the king, and speaks to her as a princess in disguise,
and lifts her up and sets a crown upon her head. I ask you if this
simple fact ought not to teach us how much a man is better than a
sheep.
2. But Christ reveals to us another and a still higher element of
the meaning of manhood by speaking to us as beings who are capable
of holding communion with God and reflecting the divine holiness in
our hearts and lives. And here also His doctrine gains clearness
and force when we bring it into close connection with His conduct.
I suppose that there are few of us who would not be ready to admit
at once that there are some men and women who have high spiritual
capacities. For them, we say, religion is a possible thing. They can
attain to the knowledge of God and fellowship with Him. They can
pray, and sing praises, and do holy work. It is easy for them to be
good. They are born good. They are saints by nature. But for the
great mass of the human race this is out of the question, absurd,
impossible. They must dwell in ignorance, in wickedness, in impiety.
But to all this Christ says, "No!" No, to our theory of perfection
for the few. No, to our theory of hopeless degradation for the
many. He takes His way straight to the outcasts of the world, the
publicans and the harlots and sinners, and to them He speaks of
the mercy and the love of God and the beauty of the heavenly life;
not to cast them into black despair, not because it was impossible
for them to be good and to find God, but because it was divinely
possible. God was waiting for them, and something in them was
waiting for God. They were lost. But surely they never could have
been lost unless they had first of all belonged to God, and this
made it possible for them to be found again. They were prodigals.
But surely the prodigal is also a child, and there is a place for
him in the Father's house. He may dwell among the swine, but he is
not one of them. He is capable of remembering his Father's love.
He is capable of answering his Father's embrace. He is capable of
dwelling in his Father's house in filial love and obedience.
This is the doctrine of Christ in regard to fallen and disordered
and guilty human nature. It is fallen, it is disordered, it is
guilty; but the capacity of reconciliation, of holiness, of love
to God, still dwells in it, and may be quickened into a new life.
That is God's work, but God Himself could not do it if man were not
capable of it.
Do you remember the story of the portrait of Dante which is painted
upon the walls of Bargello, at Florence? For many years it was
supposed that the picture had utterly perished. Men had heard of it,
but no one living had seen it. But presently came an artist who was
determined to find it again. He went into the place where tradition
said that it had been painted. The room was used as a storehouse for
lumber and straw. The walls were covered with dirty whitewash. He
had the heaps of rubbish carried away. Patiently and carefully he
removed the whitewash from the wall. Lines and colors long hidden
began to appear; and at last the grave, lofty, noble face of the
poet looked out again upon the world of light.
"That was wonderful," you say, "that was beautiful!" Not half so
wonderful as the work which Christ came to do in the heart of
man--to restore the forgotten likeness of God and bring the divine
image to the light. He comes to us with the knowledge that God's
image is there, tho concealed; He touches us with the faith that the
likeness can be restored. To have upon our hearts the impress of the
divine nature, to know that there is no human being in whom that
treasure is not hidden and from whose stained and dusty soul Christ
can not bring out that reflection of God's face--that, indeed, is
to know the meaning of manhood, and to be sure that a man is better
than a sheep!
3. There is yet one more element in Christ's teaching in regard to
the meaning of manhood, and that is His doctrine of immortality.
This truth springs inevitably out of His teaching in regard to the
origin and capacity of human nature. A being formed in the divine
image, a being capable of reflecting the divine holiness, is a
being so lofty that he must have also the capacity of entering
into a life which is spiritual and eternal, and which leads onward
to perfection. All that Christ teaches about man, all that Christ
offers to do for man, opens before him a vast and boundless future.
The idea of immortality runs through everything that Jesus says and
does. Never for a moment does He speak to man as a creature who is
bound to this present world. Never for a moment does He forget, or
suffer us to forget, that our largest and most precious treasures
may be laid up in the world to come. He would arouse our souls to
perceive and contemplate the immense issues of life.
The perils that beset us here through sin are not brief and
momentary dangers, possibilities of disgrace in the eyes of men,
of suffering such limited pain as our bodies can endure in the
disintegrating process of disease, of dying a temporal death, which
at the worst can only cause us a few hours of anguish. A man might
bear these things, and take the risk of this world's shame and
sickness and death, for the sake of some darling sin. But the truth
that flashes on us like lightning from the word of Christ is that
the consequence of sin is the peril of losing our immortality. "Fear
not them which kill the body," said he, "but are not able to kill
the soul; but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and
body in hell."
On the other hand, the opportunities that come to us here through
the grace of God are not merely opportunities of temporal peace and
happiness. They are chances of securing endless and immeasurable
felicity, wealth that can never be counted or lost, peace that the
world can neither give nor take away. We must understand that now
the kingdom of God has come near unto us. It is a time when the
doors of heaven are open. We may gain an inheritance incorruptible,
and undefiled, and that fadeth not away. We may lay hold not only on
a present joy of holiness, but on an everlasting life with God.
It is thus that Christ looks upon the children of men: not as
herds of dumb, driven cattle, but as living souls moving onward to
eternity. It is thus that He dies for men: not to deliver them from
brief sorrows, but to save them from final loss and to bring them
into bliss that knows no end. It is thus that He speaks to us, in
solemn words before which our dreams of earthly pleasure and power
and fame and wealth are dissipated like unsubstantial vapors: "What
shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own
soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"
There never was a time in which Christ's doctrine of the meaning of
manhood was more needed than it is to-day. There is no truth more
important and necessary for us to take into our hearts, and hold
fast, and carry out in our lives. For here we stand in an age when
the very throng and pressure and superfluity of human life lead us
to set a low estimate upon its value. The air we breathe is heavy
with materialism and commercialism. The lowest and most debasing
views of human nature are freely proclaimed and unconsciously
accepted. There is no escape, no safety for us, save in coming back
to Christ and learning from Him that man is the child of God, made
in the divine image, capable of the divine fellowship, and destined
to an immortal life. I want to tell you just three of the practical
reasons why we must learn this.
(1) We need to learn it in order to understand the real meaning, and
guilt, and danger, and hatefulness of sin.
Men are telling us nowadays that there is no such thing as sin. It
is a dream, a delusion. It must be left out of account. All the
evils in the world are natural and inevitable. They are simply
the secretions of human nature. There is no more shame or guilt
connected with them than with the malaria of the swamp or the poison
of the nightshade.
But Christ tells us that sin is real, and that it is the enemy, the
curse, the destroyer of mankind. It is not a part of man as God made
him; it is a part of man as he has unmade and degraded himself. It
is the marring of the divine image, the ruin of the glorious temple,
the self-mutilation and suicide of the immortal soul. It is sin
that casts man down into the mire. It is sin that drags him from
the fellowship of God into the company of beasts. It is sin that
leads him into the far country of famine, and leaves him among the
swine, and makes him fain to fill his belly with the husks that the
swine do eat. Therefore we must hate sin, and fear it, and abhor it,
always and everywhere. When we look into our own heart and find sin
there, we must humble ourselves before God and repent in sackcloth
and ashes. Every sin that whispers in our heart is an echo of the
world's despair and misery. Every selfish desire that lies in our
soul is a seed of that which has brought forth strife, and cruelty,
and murder, and horrible torture, and bloody war among the children
of men. Every lustful thought that defiles our imagination is an
image of that which has begotten loathsome vices and crawling shames
throughout the world. My brother-men, God hates sin because it ruins
man. And when we know what that means, when we feel that same poison
of evil within us, we must hate sin as He does, and bow in penitence
before Him, crying, "God, be merciful to me a sinner."
(2) We need to learn Christ's doctrine of the meaning of manhood in
order to help us to love our fellow men.
This is a thing that is easy to profess, but hard, bitterly hard,
to do. The faults and follies of human nature are apparent. The
unlovely and contemptible and offensive qualities of many people
thrust themselves sharply upon our notice and repel us. We are
tempted to shrink back, wounded and disappointed, and to relapse
into a life that is governed by disgusts. If we dwell in the
atmosphere of a Christless world, if we read only those newspapers
which chronicle the crimes and meannesses of men, or those realistic
novels which deal with the secret vices and corruptions of humanity,
and fill our souls with the unspoken conviction that virtue is an
old-fashioned dream, and that there is no man good, no woman pure, I
do not see how we can help despising and hating mankind. Who shall
deliver us from this spirit of bitterness? Who shall lead us out of
this heavy, fetid air of the lazar-house and the morgue?
None but Christ. If we will go with Him, He will teach us not to
hate our fellow men for what they are, but to love them for what
they may become. He will teach us to look, not for the evil which is
manifest, but for the good which is hidden. He will teach us not to
despair, but to hope, even for the most degraded of mankind. And so,
perchance, as we keep company with Him, we shall learn the secret
of that divine charity which fills the heart with peace and joy and
quiet strength. We shall learn to do good unto all men as we have
opportunity, not for the sake of gratitude or reward, but because
they are the children of our Father and the brethren of our Savior.
We shall learn the meaning of that blest death on Calvary, and be
willing to give ourselves as a sacrifice for others, knowing that
he that turneth a sinner from the error of his ways shall save a
soul from death and cover a multitude of sins.
(3) Finally, we need to accept and believe Christ's doctrine of the
meaning of manhood in order that it may lead us personally to God
and a higher life.
You are infinitely better and more precious than the dumb beasts.
You know it, you feel it; you are conscious that you belong to
another world. And yet it may be that there are times when you
forget it and live as if there was no God, no soul, no future life.
Your ambitions are fixt upon the wealth that corrodes, the fame that
fades. Your desires are toward the pleasures that pall upon the
senses. You are bartering immortal treasure for the things which
perish in the using. You are ignoring and despising the high meaning
of your manhood. Who shall remind you of it, who shall bring you
back to yourself, who shall lift you up to the level of your true
being, unless it be the Teacher who spake as never man spake, the
Master who brought life and immortality to light.
Come, then, to Christ, who can alone save you from the sin that
defiles and destroys your manhood. Come, then, to Christ, who alone
can make you good men and true, living in the power of an endless
life. Come, then, to Christ, that you may have fellowship with Him
and realize all it means to be a man.
END OF VOL. IX.
THE HOUR-GLASS STORIES
THE SANDALS
By REV. ZELOTES GRENELL. A beautiful little idyl of sacred story
dealing with the sandals of Christ.
THE COURTSHIP OF SWEET ANNE PAGE
By ELLEN V. TALBOT. A brisk little love story incidental to "The
Merry Wives of Windsor," full of fun and frolic, and telling of the
Courtship of Sweet Anne Page by three rival lovers chosen by her
father, her mother, and herself.
THE TRANSFIGURATION OF MISS PHILURA
By FLORENCE MORSE KINGSLEY. This clever story is based on the theory
that every physical need and every desire of the human heart can be
claimed and received from the "Encircling Good" by the true believer.
THE HERR DOCTOR
By ROBERT MACDONALD. A novelette of artistic literary merit,
narrating the varied experiences of an American girl in her effort
toward capturing a titled husband.
ESARHADDON
By COUNT LEO TOLSTOY. Three allegorical stories illustrating
Tolstoy's theories of non-resistance, and the essential unity of all
forms of life.
_Small 12mo, Dainty Cloth Binding, Illustrated._
_40 cents each_
FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, Pubs.
NEW YORK AND LONDON
THE HOUR-GLASS STORIES
THE CZAR'S GIFT
BY WILLIAM ORDWAY PARTRIDGE. How freedom was obtained for an exiled
brother.
THE EMANCIPATION OF MISS SUSANA
An entrancing love story that ends in a most romantic marriage.
THE OLD DARNMAN
By CHARLES L. GOODELL, D.D. A character known to many a New England
boy and girl, in which the "lost bride" is the occasion for a
lifelong search from door to door.
BALM IN GILEAD
By FLORENCE MORSE KINGSLEY. A very touching story of a mother's
grief over the loss of her child of tender years, and her search for
comfort, which she finds at last in her husband's loyal Christian
faith.
MISERERE
By MABEL WAGNALLS. The romantic story of a sweet voice that thrilled
great audiences in operatic Paris, Berlin, etc.
PARSIFAL
By H. R. HAWEIS. An intimate study of the great operatic masterpiece.
THE TROUBLE WOMAN
By CLARA MORRIS. A pathetic little story full of heart interest.
_Small 12mo, Dainty Cloth Binding, Illustrated.
40 cents each_
FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, Pubs.
NEW YORK AND LONDON
"There is a world of sense and practical truth in this valuable
book."--_The Brooklyn Eagle_.
A Bundle of Letters To Busy Girls.
By Miss Grace E. Dodge,
_(Member of the New York Board of Education)._