with which man is in contact. We have seen that absolute worth belongs
only to personality. But man's relation to the creatures below him in
the scale of development, implies a field of duties of which ethics
must take cognizance. The non-personal part of nature is ordained for
subjugation by man. It is included in his dominion: _terram dedit
filiis hominum_. Yet even in the Mosaic Law we find respect enjoined
for certain distinctions of nature, which are not to be overridden or
confounded. The physical order, like the moral, was to be regarded as
sacred[513]. Duties, then, of this kind exist: and they are apparently
comprehended in the fourth commandment, which expresses God's creative
claim on typical orders of living creatures, ordaining that 'cattle'
are to share the benefit of the Sabbath rest. The sixth and eighth
commandments again imply the sanctity of physical life, and of
personal property. And if we pass behind the decalogue, we find
animals included in a sense within God's original and irreversible
covenant[514]. The control therefore of human will over nature,
animate and inanimate, though comparatively absolute, is yet subject
to the restrictions which love suggests. For the natural world also
displays the omnipresent control, and watchful providence of a Being
'Whose mercy is over all His works.' Physical life in this sphere may
be treated as a means; but it must also be dealt with 'in harmony with
the creative Thought[515].'
In quitting the subject of duty, we do well to mark the infinite
extension given to the idea by the treatment of it in connection with
the doctrine of an Infinite and Holy God. Our Lord, illustrating His
exposition of the ancient Law by a few significant examples, not only
opened to His hearers the possibility of a spiritual, transcendent
morality, but also laid down a far-reaching principle of obligation.
The self-unveiling of the Infinite Being evidently makes an infinite
claim on the will and affection of intelligent creatures.
With this extension of morality we might compare a somewhat parallel
feature in the aesthetic sphere.
Into the arts also, notably into architecture and music, the Christian
spirit introduced the element of mystery, and found expression in them
for the idea of infinity--an idea so alien to the Greek genius, which
had ever contemplated beauty, and therefore ethical Good, as something
essentially limited, measurable, symmetrical, exact[516]. Such a
thought might suggest a line of abstract discussion; but practical
needs remind us that the true range of obligation is best interpreted
to us by a living ideal. As the writer of _Ecce Homo_ remarks, 'The
law which Christ gave was not only illustrated, but infinitely
enlarged, by His deeds. For every deed was itself a precedent to be
followed, and therefore to discuss the _legislation_ of Christ is to
discuss His character; for it may be justly said that _Christ Himself
is the Christian Law_[517].'
The transition from the discussion of moral Law to that of Christian
character seems at this point natural and simple.
III. _Christ the Pattern of Character._
The stress which in Christian Ethics is laid upon personality scarcely
requires further illustration. The principle of personality underlies
our fundamental assumption that man is capable of free communion with,
and imitation of, God. We believe that the union between God and man
was consummated in and through a Person. Further, the spirit in which
fulfilment of the Law is possible--the spirit of filial love--can only
exist in personal relations. It corresponds with this general
prominence of personality that Christianity presents the ideal
standard of human character in a Person.
In passing may be noted the fact that this principle to some extent
emerges in ancient systems. Aristotle's definition of virtue naturally
occurs to us as admitting the function of an 'expert' (ὁ φρόνιμος, ὁ
σπουδαῖος), in the right estimation of moral action. The Stoic again
seeks or invents a trustworthy standard in his ideal conception of the
'wise man.' It seems possible that modern non-Christian ethics will
ultimately substitute for the cultivated sense of mankind some form of
personal ideal[518]. For 'the Law attains its lovable form, its
beauty, only when it becomes personal[519];' and it might be said with
truth that no idea can be formed of virtues in the harmony of their
combination, until they are seen embodied in a person. Just as
theology has in the study of Divine truth concentrated her gaze on the
Person of Jesus Christ as a _revelation of God_; so ethics, in the
effort to formulate the law of moral perfection, must study the same
Divine Person as a _type of character_.
It is necessary therefore at the outset to recall some salient
features of the great Example.
The character of Jesus Christ has been a subject of study to thinkers
of every period in Christian history, and of infinitely varied
qualifications for the task. Some have in the supposed interest of
morality been tempted to lay disproportionate stress on the fact of
our Lord's manhood. They ask how Christ can be an example to humanity,
unless he be a Man like other men[520]? From a Christian standpoint,
however, it is clear that the efficacy of that Example depends on
Christ's being a Man _unlike_ other men--unlike them in His relation
to the Divine requirement, unlike them in His power of contact with
the entire race. Thus we find ourselves in correspondence with
dogmatic truth. The mystery of atonement necessitates a sinless
Victim; the Christian conception of human life requires a sinless
Example. The perfect pattern of mankind must in one material respect
be as far as possible isolated and removed from the race He came to
redeem: for sinlessness is a part of the Divine thought concerning
human nature.
If again we take into account the scope and significance of His
redemptive work, it is vain to compare Christ with 'other great men.'
He came not merely as the Example, but as the Redeemer and Saviour of
humanity. Were He merely the Example, His departure would have left
mankind in even deeper anguish and helplessness than before His
coming. Man would have seen the Light, and felt its attraction, only
to find himself powerless to follow.
And thus, because Christ is a Man unlike all other men, we need in
contemplating His character the caution that 'the Divine Reality is
apart from, and even greater than what the greatest have thought of it
and said of it[521].' The ideal conception of character presented
either in Pagan thought, or even in the volume of Messianic prophecy,
has been indefinitely enriched, and illuminated by the LIFE which had
before been only dimly foreshadowed, or at the best darkly understood.
Now it may be said, with no violation of the proportion of truth, that
the most important part of the Gospel revelation concerned man's true
relation to God. In the forefront of Christ's teaching is set the
doctrine of the Divine Fatherhood. He impressed this truth on men not
more by His express utterances, than by the example of His own
habitual attitude towards God. It may be justly allowed that our Lord
taught, and displayed among men 'a new type of goodness, the filial
and dependent.' In Him we see the activity of 'a perfectly filial
will[522].'
It will be useful to expand this suggestive thought somewhat more
fully.
First, then, we see in Christ the perfect example of _filial
dependence_ on God[523]. This dependence is not mere passivity of
will--such as the record of the Temptation exhibits; not simply a
confiding trust in the providence and sustaining power of God. We
rather see in Christ's spirit of dependence a motive which impels Him
to fearless, unfettered activity, and supports Him under the keenest
stress of trial and suffering. He speaks and acts ever as One who, in
each situation, is aware of the controlling hand of infinite Wisdom
and Love. He has that entire security in the certainty of Divine
guidance, to which no emergency comes as a surprise, no call for
action brings disturbance. He knows that 'the works' which tax His
human faculties, and weary His bodily frame, are such as the Father
'has given Him to perfect.' A filial trustfulness is thus the secret
at once of His energy and His repose; His promptness in action and His
calmness in awaiting the suitable moment for it; His unbroken
heavenly-mindedness and His self-spending devotion in ministry and
works of love. It makes possible the majestic serenity which never
deserts Him during the scenes of His Passion. 'I am not alone,' He
says, 'because the Father is with Me[524].'
In such a spirit of dependence may be recognised the true law of
creaturely life; and there is nothing in that spirit which degrades or
impairs the true dignity of human nature. Nay, there is something in
this dependence of a filial heart which seems to chasten and exalt the
character, while it quickens the intelligence of man. For in
fulfilling his own true law, and responding to the will of his Maker,
man finds himself admitted to the secret of the universe; he is in
harmony with the purpose that underlies and guides its entire
movement. So also, we venture to say, it is with the Ideal Man.
'Everywhere He sees the Divine unity of thought which permeates,
embraces, and binds all things together, the spiritual and the
material, the visible and the invisible, the earthly and the heavenly,
in one vast economy[525].' To Him the promise seems fulfilled, 'Thou
shalt be in league with the stones of the field, and the beasts of the
field shall be at peace with thee.' To Him the world of humanity, and
the world of physical nature disclose their inner law; He knows what
is in them; He intuitively reads their secret; He can trace beneath
the apparent discords of the universe the outlines of a broken, but
recoverable, harmony. And thus the attitude of filial dependence on
God is found to be the condition of a right relation to all that He
has made; it opens the way to a true understanding of God's ways, and
of that living principle of Love which binds all things in one--binds
them indeed
by gold chains about the feet of God.
Next, we may contemplate Christ's character as the type of _filial
obedience_[526],--of a complete harmony between human will and the law
of holiness. In Christ the ideal of free will is realized[527]. We are
not now concerned with the vast issues of that sinless obedience. It
is enough to study it as embodying a principle of purely human
perfection, enjoined indeed repeatedly in the Old Testament as the one
condition of covenantal union with God, but once only in history
adequately fulfilled in a human life. Obedience, based on absolute
trust in the character and purpose of God; an 'obedience of faith,'
yet in its essence the obedience not of a servant, but of a son; an
obedience that refuses nothing, shrinks from nothing, questions
nothing that presents itself as Divine requirement: such is seen to be
the law of Christ's Life, the law to Him of action and of endurance,
the rule of prayer, the principle of sacrifice, the motive of service,
the well-spring of thanksgiving and joy. If the entire completeness of
this obedience becomes One who wears 'the form of a servant;' the
willingness of it marks the glad service of a Son. And because the
fulfilment by Jesus of the Father's will is spontaneous, free,
whole-hearted, sacrificial, it wins acceptance as the offering of One
'well-pleasing' and 'beloved.' Perfected by submission to suffering
and death, the obedience of Jesus is stamped with the token of Divine
satisfaction by His rising from the dead.
And finally, Christ is the perfect pattern of _filial love_. He taught
the human heart that the All-Holy God can be the object of its highest
affection, its purest passion, its deepest joy. In Christ we see the
filial character consummated; in Him we find the union of serene
repose with consuming zeal, unwavering loyalty, and sympathetic
self-devotion to the Father's work; in other words we find creaturely
perfection, combined with the spirit of sonship. In many and
mysterious ways indeed, does this filial love of the true Son display
itself: in a hunger and thirst after righteousness; in a patience
which can bide the time, and endure the chastisements, of God; in an
overflowing tenderness towards all God-created beings because they are
His and in their measure bear witness of Him; in a faith which 'hopeth
all things' and labours to make all things perfect. Such is the spirit
of the Son: and we 'learn of Him' the loftiness of the height to which
a filial love of God may raise human character, the tenacious strength
it may impart to human will, the peace it may shed on a human heart.
Love is 'the bond of perfectness,' and to wear the image of the Son is
to be conformed through Love to the likeness of the Father
Himself[528].
The example of virtue is thus seen in a character, of which some
aspects have been just considered: and we may pause at this point, in
order to form some conclusion as to the factors of virtuous action
judged from the Christian standpoint.
To have moral worth, an action must be the outcome of an entire bent,
or disposition of the agent. Good fruit is to be expected only from a
good tree[529]. In the virtuous act the agent's personality is engaged
_as a whole_; his whole nature is directed towards a single object.
This inward unity is perhaps what we really mean by 'simplicity.' In
such action, the human being most nearly approaches the concentrated
and harmonious energy of the Divine Life[530]. The person acts as an
undivided whole, each part of his nature is for the time directed
aright.
But we are here reminded that man's nature is disordered: it can
produce nothing truly good, except in so far as it is restored to
harmony by Divine power. God, says Thomas Aquinas, calls us to a
supernatural end, which by his natural powers man could not attain.
God Himself must therefore impart the supernatural principle necessary
to aid man in responding to the call[531]. No act, in short, can be
strictly called 'good' which is dissociated from the direct action of
God: for 'there is none good but One, that is God:'
O work thy works in God; He can rejoice in nought
Save only in Himself, and what Himself has wrought[532].
We conclude that in a good action there is a true harmony of the
different elements in personality--intelligence, affection, will; and
further that such harmony presupposes the action of supernatural power
on man's nature. It agrees with this that Christian moralists give to
the chief principles of virtuous action the name of 'theological
virtues,' and regard them as supernaturally imparted.
A good action, then, implies right _intelligence_. There must be an
exercise of faith, which is a principle of knowledge--a correspondence
between human faculties and an unseen object. Faith accepts the good
as the proper element of man's perfection; takes God at His word, and
aims at pleasing Him. 'Without faith it is impossible to please
Him[533].' Next, _will_ asserts itself. Will is directed towards an
end desirable and attainable by effort: and thus is inspired by Hope.
A study of Christ's example suggests that the highest object of hope
for man is the perfection of his nature through the means appointed by
God[534]. We see in Christ something of the desire, and the joy of
moral achievement. When He said that 'the _workman_ is worthy of his
reward,' He pointed to the possibility of a true, unselfish pleasure
in good work as such: of that thirst for perfection and
self-dissatisfaction which distinguishes the true artist from common
men.
Lastly, there remains that which is the dominant factor in Christian
goodness. Love. There is an element of _passion_ in Christlike
holiness, which differentiates it from philosophic conceptions of
virtue as a tranquil, balanced state[535]. Love gives worth to the
fulfilment of duty; embraces, in union with God, the Divine aim of
creation; and manifests itself in spontaneity and inventive activity,
transforming the fulfilment of obligation into an occasion of joyous
and delightful service. Our Lord represents this 'ardent, passionate,
devoted state' of heart as the real root of virtue. Without it the
most punctilious obedience is nothing; for not to love is not to
live[536].
Having thus indicated the place of intelligence, will, and affection
in virtuous activity, we are free to study the Christian character,
and perhaps ascertain its permanent features--those elements in it
which have survived the test of such wide variety of historical
conditions. We have to inquire what is common to the types of
Christian life which different ages, states of civilization, and forms
of nationality have produced? For character is that which is capable
of development in varied situations, of free and spontaneous
self-adaptation to every change of environment. Circumstance proves
its quality, offers it a field of exercise, and ministers to its
growth.
Our task is rather to sketch a _character_ than to classify _virtues_.
'The earliest Christians,' says the writer of _Ecce Homo_, 'felt a
natural repugnance to describe the goodness at which they aimed by the
name of Virtue.' Within limits indeed such a classification is
possible: and a principle of division may be applied even to a thing
so mysterious, so subtle in its shapes and gradations, so fruitful in
surprises, as character. We may, for instance, take as a basis the
principle of personality, and consider the Christian personality in
its threefold relationship: to God, to itself, to its neighbour, and
in contact with the hindrances, moral and physical, presented by its
environment[537].
I. The Christian personality in relation to God.
The distinctive feature of Christian character consists in
consciousness of that filial relation to God which Grace restores; of
the spiritual bond that exists between the human soul and 'Him who is
invisible.' Hence the goodness at which the Christian aims is that
which will bear the searching light of the Divine eye. 'He chose us
out of the world,' says S. Paul, 'that we might be holy and blameless
_before Him_.' Thus in its essence Christian character is based on a
peculiar sense of relationship to God; there underlies it a constant
desire of union with God, a temper of loyalty, a spirit of thankful
dependence, a feeling of nearness to the Divine presence. Were it
true, as has been said, that 'the Divine service' had '_become_ human
service[538],' Christian character as a distinct type would have
ceased to be.
From this attitude of mind and will two results follow: first,
singleness of aim,--the 'single eye.' The sense of personal relation
to God gives directness, truthfulness, simplicity to speech, action,
and thought. So far as he is true to his profession a Christian is
independent of the current opinions of his age, or community, seeking
only to live 'in all good conscience' towards God. The conviction of
an unseen Presence guides his actions; an unseen Witness penetrates
his thought; an unseen Master holds him accountable. Indeed, S. Paul
seems to regard holy living as consisting simply in the endeavour to
'please God[539].'
And a second characteristic of the Christian is his view of life in
the world, of nature, of humanity itself. He observes, judges,
estimates all things from the standpoint of the spiritual mind. He
aims at bringing his own thoughts and desires into harmony with the
Divine will and purpose. He looks out on the world, with its complex
social order, its fascinating interest, its appealing needs, as a
sphere in which for a while he is called to move, and to labour. Into
the varied tasks and interests of life he can throw himself with
large-hearted sympathy, and with the greater fervour because the time
is short, and the need of self-forgetful activity urgent. 'Once a real
Christian,' writes Lacordaire, 'the world did not vanish before my
eyes; it rather assumed nobler proportions as I myself did. I began to
see therein a noble sufferer needing help. I could imagine nothing
comparable to the happiness of ministering to it under the eye of God,
with the help of the Cross, and the Gospel of Christ[540].'
But the world is not the Christian's 'abiding city.' He walks in it,
and passes through it in pilgrim fashion, with heart detached from it
and all that it can give. He cannot commit himself to the world, nor
identify himself with it. He has the internal freedom of a heart that
has found its true centre; he is able to estimate visible things at
their real worth, and
To stand in freedom loosened from this world[541].
Thus to have the 'mind of Christ' is to judge of life and the things
of time with His judgment, to see with His eyes, to be inspired by His
_Wisdom_. So we find ourselves in natural contact with the division of
character by 'cardinal virtues.' 'Prudence' or 'Wisdom' is the outcome
of a right relation to God. God only, S. Augustine says, is to be
loved; this world, and all sensible things, are to be used. Prudence
is love discerning between the things which bring it nearer to God,
and those which hinder it from approaching Him[542].
II. In relation to humanity, and creaturely life in general, the
Christian finds scope for 'active morality[543],' for ministering
love. The life of union with God inspires and prompts the life of
service to mankind. The infinitely varied relationships of life
constitute so many forms of moral obligation. Christian _Justice_
means nothing less than rendering to _all_ their due. The desire to
imitate God is at once the motive and the rule of Christian
activity[544]. And this desire finds expression in two distinctively
Christian graces: the spirit of _forgiveness_ and the spirit of
_compassion_.
The inculcation of forgiveness is 'the most striking innovation' in
the ethics of the Gospel[545]. Greek thought on the subject presents a
remarkable contrast. Aristotle is inclined to regard forgiveness as a
form of weakness, but allied to virtue in so far as it involves
resistance to passion. The ground of Christian forgiveness is very
different. The duty of it follows partly of course from a
consideration of the common human nature which the offender shares
with the injured; partly also from a dispassionate view of the injury
inflicted. In exercising forgiveness we suppress that false self-love
or partiality which magnifies a private injury. The Christian loves
himself _not more_ than he loves his neighbour. He can put himself in
the offender's place, and consider what is for his highest good. He
will not allow the sense of injury to interfere with, or override the
exercise of good-will even towards enemies. Certainly, the sense of
his own moral frailty, and of his indebtedness to Divine mercy, will
restrain the Christian from vindictiveness or harshness in regard to
the faults of others; while the fact of the equality of men in
relation to their common Father, invests even the anti-social sinner
with the dignity of brotherhood[546]. But forgiving love is no mere
expression of self-distrust. It is fired by something of the generous
hopefulness, the quickness to detect latent capacities of nobleness
even in the worst, which is the glory of the Divine forgiveness. It
'rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth;' 'believeth
all things, hopeth all things.' The Greek indeed had his idea of
forbearance; to him it meant something less than strict justice; it
was a virtue difficult to place or estimate. Logically, it was
scarcely to be praised. At the best it would never have implied the
habitual duty of active forgiveness.
Not less distinctive of the Christian character is _compassion_[547],
and the active beneficence which results from it. Humanity, by Jesus
Christ, was transformed: it was 'changed (to adopt a celebrated
phrase) from a restraint to a motive.' Compassion may display itself
in readiness both to relieve the physical needs of another, and to
edify his character. To love one's fellow-man as one's self implies
willingness to benefit him in body and estate by every means; but it
is also incompatible with unconcern or apathy as to his spiritual and
moral welfare. Love is communicative, and will not withhold its best
treasure. Hence compassion prompts missionary activity, and zeal for
moral and social reforms. Nor has 'humanity' ceased to be a restraint
by becoming a motive. Christian justice contains the principle of
'_innocentia_' as well as of '_benevolentia_.' 'Love worketh no ill to
his neighbour;' it can inflict no wrong, it can withhold no good;
'therefore love is the fulfilling of the Law[548].'