with which they have insisted on peculiar expressions, has arisen, we think, from a strong conviction that precisely in this letter" was embodied the essential "spirit" of their doctrine. They felt that they were not engaged in the idle work of re-clothing old ideas in forms that should be attractive by their novelty, but were trying to exhibit the everlasting truth in its own fit and peculiar dress. We confess ourselves impatient of that incredulous class, who can dismiss every earnest statement of opinion which wears an unusual aspect, with the flippant remark, that it is only another way of saying what has been said a thousand times before. For even if it were merely this, yet we have an interest in knowing all the phases of truth, and should welcome any original that is, unborrowed utterance of it, as an approximation to absolute reality. How much antagonism, then, is there between the older and the later formula-between self-denial and self-reliance? This is the question for us now. The precise meaning of the first may be easily known without resorting to any ingenious division of that complex being which we call self. " If any man will come after me," said Jesus, "let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." The contrast plainly set forth here is between self and Christ. 'Deny thyself, to follow me.' Unre served obedience is clearly the sentiment of this passage. There must be no engrossing attachment even to friends or life. "He who has put his hand to the plough must not look back." This seems to us in brief the substance of our Saviour's frequent exhortations on this subject. There is no reference to any inherent corruption or depravity, no disparagement of human nature, but an injunction to the individual soul to oppose no hindrance in itself to the sway of the highest morality. Paul indeed seems to speak in a more ascetic tone.* "Mortify your members which are upon the earth." "They that are Christ's have crucified the flesh," etc. But even this is not inconsistent with the doctrine of self-reliance, as we believe it stands in the transcendental ethics. According to this system (if we have not misunderstood it) self-reliance is based on the assump * Yet in this same Letter (to the Colossians,) he openly reproves those who are subject to ordinances, as "Touch not, taste not," etc. and who would take merit to themselves for "neglecting the body." tion, that God has created every man his own judge of right, his own guide to truth, equal to every emergency, and vainly seeking abroad what he is too indolent or too faint-hearted to look for at home. "Say not in thy heart, who shall ascend for us into heaven, or who shall descend for us into the deep? The word is nigh thee." Have courage to rely on your own energies, and patience to wait the issue. Resolutely cut off all escape from the necessity of original thought, original judgment, original action. Then you will first learn to be a man.' That this is inspiriting doctrine, there can be no question. It accords, also, with many facts of common experience; for who has not been made acquainted, in some degree, with the strength which comes of self-committal? The feeblest animal at bay may become formidable. The spur of a sudden and great occasion will drive many to acts of heroism, who had before been common-place and timid. These things hint at undeveloped powers in the humblest soul, and suggest the question, whether all man's weakness and folly may not be owing to mistrust of himself. Let not the Christian recoil at this suggestion. It is grossly misunderstood as savoring of impiety or arrogance. Surely it is no more arrogant or impious, to believe that God has provided the means of spiritual health within ourselves, than to believe it shall descend upon us from some overhanging cloud. We are no disciples of naturalism; but we repel the presumption that piety can belong only to a system of supernaturalism. It is quite too often taken for granted, that those systems of religion which represent human nature as utterly feeble and helpless, tend to promote reverence and humility. A true reverence for man, a respect for his capacities and hopes of excellence, must lead to reverence for God; for it is only in the god-like part of man that we find any thing to revere. "Certainly," says Lord Bacon, man is of kin to the beasts by his body, and if he be not of kin to God by his spirit, he is a base and ignoble creature." Many beautiful instances are on record, of the power of faith in man to reclaim the most abandoned and desperate criminals.* Ah! how much is suggested by these words, See particularly the account of Capt. Pillsbury's success in the Weathersfield prison, as given in Miss Martineau's "Retrospect of Western Travel," Vol. i. pp. 125-7. See also the still more remarkable "Abandoned," "des which we have inadvertently used. perate," are epithets which we apply to the most deeply stained in crime. Is it a sin, to be desperate and abandoned, that is, to be forsaken by the love and cut off from the hopes of their kind? Perchance the sin lies at others' door. The ministry of encouragement is beginning to work wonders in our time that ministry which approaches man as a being full of latent capacities for good, which need perhaps only a more genial atmosphere to bring them into free play. He who would take part in this ministry, must share in this faith. must believe that there is a hidden store of affections and intellectual resources, of moral and spiritual wealth in all men, which it is his privilege to disclose to the unconscious possessor. Reflecting on these truths, and stopping here, we should be almost ready to embrace with full persuasion this doctrine of man's self-sufficiency; and to admit that the despair of virtue on the part of the good as well as the bad might explain all the vice of the world. But question must follow question. What explains this despair? Whence came the tradition of human helplessness? Prior to all experience, the soul must in every age believe in its own illimitable power. It conceives of no obstacles. There is but a moment's interval between the desire and its accomplishment. One achievement is as easy as another. That round bauble in the sky is as near the infant's grasp, as the tiniest play-thing which attendant hands fondly offer to its delighted eyes. Such are the first impressions of our relations to the outward world. Would they be likely to give place to any but the sternest experience? Does man willingly renounce the pleasing confidence that he is absolute lord over nature? Is there not a long and obstinate struggle before "the iron ring of necessity" is submitted to, and "brightened," as Carlyle beautifully figures it, “by a kind heavenly sun of duty." Still longer is it before we admit of any bound to our spiritual conquests. Youthful aspiration spurns the thought of any constraining power over our inner world. It sings : "The mind is its own place; and of itself description of the "Redemption Institute" at Hamburg, in the last report of the Secretary of the Board of Education in Massachusetts. Yet this world is still far enough from heaven. Was the will, then, at fault? Are earth and hell still the choice of this wayward humanity? Alas! the result is not altered, whether you name it "will" or can." Sooner or later in life we are forced to admit the unpalatable truth, that we are not our own absolute masters, that we are not wholly self-sufficient, that we must look out of ourselves for strength. And if out of ourselves, then above ourselves. Then is born, or rather more fully awakened, the sentiment of religion in the heart. We appreciate the meaning of that elder poet,* when he said that "unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is man!" Religion has been defined by a late writer† to be "a sense of want." The definition is far from complete; yet it explains the fact, that a certain period of life—when boyhood is passing into youth-is unfavorable to religious sentiments. There is at that time no sense of want. The exuberance of animal spirits, the vivacity and joyousness of that period, the consciousness of increasing physical strength, the freedom from cares, the infinite range of hopes -all pre-occupy and fill the mind, and religion is not thought of as the necessary complement of our joy. This may also account for the absence of any marked religious spirit in the ancient Greeks. They represent among the nations this same period of boyhood verging upon youth.‡ Their whole being rests on the assumption of man's selfsufficiency; and though they are not without an idea of the Divine, yet the popular mythology gives us no instance of superhuman virtue among the gods, scarcely of superhuman power. The true type of their religion is found in Prometheusa man, contending with and defying the utmost infliction of divine vengeance; compelled to yield in physical strength, but carrying in himself a proud independence of the torturer, buoyed up by the satisfaction of suffering in behalf of his race. One cannot refrain from spontaneous admiration in reading this story, though we see * Daniel, quoted in the "Excursion," Book iv. "Endeavors after the Christian Life" by James Martineau. See the parallel ingeniously traced out in "Mühlenfels's Introduction to German Literature." how defective it is as an attempt to embody the highest spiritual achievement. We delight also in many of the characters of that period of youth, of which we have been speaking. And it may be asked, then, why we do not propose to ourselves as an aim that which we admire in the youthful individual or nation. Is it a degeneracy, that with later years come painful thoughts of the inadequacy of self? Is it cowardice to seek a strength from without, which we do not find within? Or is it the stubborn fact, which experience universally records, that there is a limit to the exercise of the human faculties? True, we cannot define this limit, for if we could, we should be able to fix a precise measure of responsibility for every human being; and we are well aware that the extent of each man's duties that is, of his responsibility — cannot be measured. A being created for progress must not too hastily set bounds for itself, which it cannot pass; yet must it not, on the other hand, weaken and exhaust its own energies by attempting present impossibilities. Not to pursue any farther the abstract discussion, let us apply the test of a familiar example to this doctrine of selfreliance. The moral wonder of the age, the reformed drunkard, shall furnish us an instructive chapter of ethical philosophy. Hear his touching narrative of the oscillations of the human will; one while fixed with an iron grasp (you should have said) on the determination to abstain; but in a moment the hold is loosened by some feeblest temptation (so it should seem to others), and despair clutches her victim with terrific assurance. Was it any lack of confidence, then, which made the first resolution so inefficient? The farthest possible from it. He had no doubt whatever of his strength. He was troubled by no misgiving. He thought he stood on firm ground, and therefore he fell. And this self-confidence did not abandon him, though it was so misplaced. Defeated but not disheartened, he is sure that the past warnings will secure him the victory henceforth. Thus recovery and relapse alternate; till just as he is on the point of giving over the struggle, the sign of his deliverance appears. "In hoc signo vinces," it is said to him. Thousands of more desperate cases than his own have been cured by this magic stroke of the pen. He tries it, and "the pledge" saves VOL. XXXVII. -4TH S. VOL. II. NO. III. 29 |