Its sanction

IV. Perhaps, however, this function of the moral force of Christianity may be acknowledged, and even admired; but it will be urged that it is inadequate, and even one-sided, in its theory of moral excellence. If it guards the individuality of the weak, what ality in the shall we say of its bearing upon the individuality of the strong?

of individu

strong.

It has been said that Christianity looks but coldly on this. It is thought even to discourage the masculine type of character, as manifested in that right self- Its care to assertion of manliness, which involves a sense of temper it. dignity, a claim of freedom, a resolute maintenance of rights, and a bold exertion of individual energy. In that saying, now not unfrequently repeated, there is just this shadow of truth-that the New Testament lays comparatively little stress on this class of virtues, dismissing them, indeed, with but one exhortation, Quit you like men, and be strong.' But for this there is a very homely, yet all-sufficient reason, that these virtues can take care of themselves. They command universal admiration; they bring their immediate reward; they are in themselves a continual delight. At the time of the first preaching of the Gospel they had in the morality of the day run to excess, and needed accordingly, not to be stimulated, but to be tempered. After all, it is simply a question of experience whether Christianity has really checked the development of manliness, in courage and freedom, resolute individuality and victorious energy. The answer must be, that, instead of checking these, it has actually brought them out in some very remarkable and characteristic forms, not so much by direct encouragement, as by kindling in each man the consciousness of having the life of Christ in him, and deriving from this the sense of an individual responsibility to stand fast in the faith,' and to be a fellow-worker with God.' The spirit in which the apostles confronted the demand of the Sanhedrim for obedience, has never died out: We must obey,' but obey God rather than men.'

For it is not only true that under the influence of Christianity all the ancient heroic energy of manliness sur

ment of it

vives untouched and even increased; but there are three Its develop developments of it, which have certainly flourished in character especially in Christian times, and which may be istic forms. fairly considered to have been especially fostered by Christianity.'

Martyrdom.

There is the spirit of resolute martyrdom, at times running even to the exaggeration of defiant or self-trustful martyrdom, but in its true Christian form, a humble, and yet a willing and even a joyful martyrdom. It is true that this spirit is not peculiar to Christianity. Other causes may count their martyrs. Science or philosophy may boast a few; patriotism, loyalty, or philanthropy may count many. But it is also true that here Christian faith stands out in unapproachable pre-eminence. Where other causes count martyrs by scores, she can count them by hundreds and thousands; and, moreover, she shows the extraordinary power of calling out a strange and superhuman courage in souls least prepared for it by nature. The humblest and the most timid, the tender child and the sensitive woman-even these she has taught to assert a noble individuality, to defy the whole power of the world, and often by suffering to conquer it.

Asceticism.

Next, akin in some sense to the spirit of martyrdom, is the spirit of asceticism. I do not here examine that spirit, to disentangle the noble and the base, the true and the false, the selfish and the self-sacrificing elements, so strangely and mournfully mingled in it. But whatever else may be thought of it, surely it must be confessed that it brings out in singular force the dominant power of the spirit over the flesh; the firm iron will, too often crushing natural feeling and affection; the contempt of all the power and the opinion, the prayers and the sympathy of the world. It is, in some sense, a Christian Stoicism. For again, though asceticism belongs in some degree to all religions, and to many philosophic systems of morality, it is to Christianity that it owes, for good and for evil, its great development in Europe. All strong ascetic movements -from the old vows of chastity and purity to the modern

On this subject, see Lecky's History of Morals,

pledge of total abstinence-have had in them a strong Christian tinge. Hence asceticism may fairly be claimed as an evidence that Christianity looks on the strong individuality of man in a spirit of watchful sympathy, desiring to temper and to mould, but never to destroy it.

But perhaps most characteristic of all is that third phase into which the spirit of martyrdom and asceticism passedthe spirit of chivalry, a spirit unknown to ancient Chivalry. moralities, a spirit developed marvellously under the shadow of the cross, which was its frequent emblem. It is heroism indeed, but heroism tempered by the peculiarly Christian influences of reverence for the weak and suffering, reverence for humility and purity, and solemn devotion under the blessing of God and the sign of the cross. Yet these influences are so far from weakening in it the spirit of manly daring, that in chivalry it actually ran to a noble but fantastic excess, of which ancient civilisation knew nothing; they are so far from chilling the vivid sense of personal dignity and honour, that it also, in the days of chivalry, rose to a magnificent extravagance. That spirit which we call now the 'spirit of a gentleman'a spirit which, except in its accidents, depends on no conditions of rank, wealth, even culture, and which is the lineal descendant of the older chivalry-is a spirit all but unknown to the greatest ancient civilisations of the West. In its union

of elasticity and enterprise with dignity and self-restraint, it has no parallel in the civilisations, ancient or modern, of the East. It represents unquestionably the individuality of courage and nobleness, of self-reverence,' as well as selfdistrust,' as tinged by the influence of the Gospel, and stamped with the image of Christ.

These three peculiar developments of the individuality of the strong-found not merely in the ranks of those whom the world honours as martyrs, ascetics, or knights, but in many a Christian character which none knows but Godmust be sufficient to show that the charge of stunting or neglecting manliness is utterly groundless. The Gospel not only gives it scope, but actually moulds it into a higher dignity and beauty.

V. So it is, then, that Christianity guards the freedom and

the growth of the individual soul, which is the seat of moral energy. We have now to turn to the other side of dianship of morality, and to see how far it guards unity of society, and bids the individual give up himself for

Its guar

unity.

his fellow-men.

Christianity

a fraternity.

It is hardly needful to argue that a religion, whose very sign is the cross, must encourage, and must enforce, as the first of duties and the highest of privileges, the spirit of self-sacrifice the facing of labour, danger, suffering, death, for the society in which our lot is cast. But this duty of self-sacrifice may be recognised either towards the human society as a whole, as in what we call patriotism to a country, or towards the authority which at once rules and represents that society, as in what we call loyalty to a sovereign. It would certainly appear that Christianity, as a new moral force, has tended to quicken and regenerate more especially the former-perhaps the wider and greater-of these two principles. It is essentially a religion, I will not say of equality—for equality, according as we use the word, is either a sacred truth or a dangerous falsehood-but certainly of fraternity.

Its sanction of loyalty true, but secondary.

It is true that it acknowledges and sanctions loyalty; it teaches reverence for the powers that be,' holding that the very existence of authority is a necessity to human society, and therefore an ordinance of the God who made it holding that the worst government is better than mere anarchy, and that rebellion, if it be causeless, is a sin, and, even if it be necessary, is a resistance to the natural law, which must bring down a lighter or heavier judgment. But this is hardly its main or its most characteristic teaching. Even the marked emphasis with which the duty of obedience is occasionally enforced in the New Testament was probably designed to meet some special tendency in the new-born freedom of the Gospel to disregard civil authority and social custom. In the days when in English history loyalty became a passion, almost an idolatry, we notice that in all its allusions to Holy Scripture the very phrase, the Lord's anointed,' which was its watchword, shows that it drew its chief inspiration from the Old Testament and not from the New. So, again,

whenever the spirit of absolutism has sought to raise its head in the Church, it has naturally borrowed the analogy of its sacerdotal authority rather from the hierarchy of the Jewish high-priesthood than from the teaching of the Apostles in the Christian Church, or from the more sacred words of Him who said, 'Be not called father; for one is your Father, which is in heaven.' 'Be not ye called master; for one is your Master, even Christ, and all ye are brethren.'

For in these words is expressed the true and characteristic teaching of Christianity. Its absolute loyalty is paid to one King, and one only, the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, as enthroned at the right hand of the Father, and enthroned also in every heart. All other authorities, of family, of State, or of Church, are but brethren-elder brethren, it may be, to whom we owe faith and deference, but brethren still. The spirit of brotherhood, and what has been called the enthusiasm of humanity '-this is the attitude of the soul towards human society which the Gospel especially teaches.

Its brother

and of love.

Now this spirit does not merely imply a strong sense of duty to society above the coarser requirements of law, shown mainly in perfect truth and righteousness. For, in the sense of duty, individuality still comes hood of duty first, and unity second. We first recognise ourselves, we see our own individual freedom and power, and then ask, 'What am I bound in equity to do for my fellow-men?' Duty, therefore, is like a golden cincture which binds together many units-all, it is true, pressing on each other, but all perfectly distinct. But the spirit of brotherhood, as taught by the Gospel, goes much beyond this, and beyond even the calmer and more prosaic willingness to sacrifice self, which we call 'public spirit.' Its main principle—the 'old commandment,' old as humanity itself, made new in the Gospel-is love. Now love absolutely sinks, forgets, denies self. It places unity first, and individuality barely second. It is not like a golden cincture binding separate units together, but like the network of some great organism through which one common life glows and thrills. Nor is even this all. The love of the Christian, as of his Master, delights especially to take the form of mercy-that is, of love towards the weak, the blind, the sinful-neither asking