VIII

THE MASTER-FORCE IN CHARACTER AND CIVILIZATION

And everything shall live whither the river cometh.—EZEK. xlvii. 9.

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HE prophet beholds in vision a stream issuing from the Temple buildings, and flowing eastwards until it falls into the Dead Sea, making even those fatal waters rich with life. In the first instance this mystic river was a symbol of the miraculous transformation which the pious Jew expected the land of Canaan to undergo in order to fit it for the habitation of Jehovah's ransomed people. The prophets cherished the expectation that one day, when Israel was wholly obedient, God would renew the face of nature, and all Palestine would blossom like the rose. This mystic stream, however, demands a larger interpretation. The thought of Israel anticipated the time when the Messiah would send forth a tide of living influence through the nations, cleansing their corruptions, and making everything in human life and society to realize its ideal. The seer of Patmos gives the final significance of Ezekiel's vision: "And he showed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crys

tal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations." Under the vivifying influence of the gospel of Christ the most hopeless lands and classes revive, and the blasted regions of wickedness become as the garden of the Lord. Here, then, is the thought I desire to enforce, namely, that the influences which alone can purify the world are spiritual, and flow from God in Christ.

I. SPIRITUALITY IN RELATION TO PERSONAL CHARACTER.

That momentous issues depend upon personal character most will acknowledge. A few thinkers set intellectual perfection above moral quality; but thoughtful men generally concede the supremacy of character. True morality requires peculiar inspiration; it can live only as it is rooted in the spirit and draws its life from eternity. Secularism scouts this fundamental Christian conviction. It smilingly protests, "What a wonderful being your poor mortal is! Nothing will satisfy him except divinities, eternities, infinities, heavens, hells, boundless hopes and fears. Surely it is a mistake to suppose that we poor creatures need this portentous apparatus, these mighty stimulations; certainly we can keep ourselves in order and

behave decently without these mighty motives and pressures!" To the carnal eye we may appear poor creatures: yet we strongly hold that these far-reaching and solemn beliefs are essential; we cannot get on without them. One of these days we walk in the fields, and there on the sod grows a daisy-wee, simple, modest bloom. But when we come to think, what a costly flower it is! It owes its shape to the action of that vast, terrible law of gravitation which works through all the realms of space; to refresh it the ocean yields its virtue, to vivify it electric forces sweep through the planet, to colour it millions of vibrations agitate the light ether, to build it up and perfect it requires an orb five hundred times bigger than all the planets put together, a million and a half times bigger than the earth itself. "Vain daisy, will not less than this do for you?" says the critic. No; less will not do: it demands the sun, the sea, the imperial force of gravitation, electricity, and light, or it will not grow, or it grows a misshapen, discoloured thing. In infidel eyes mortals appear poor creatures; nevertheless we require immense stimulations and restraints for our security and perfecting, and any attempt to narrow our sky means moral impoverishment and ruin.

Dynamics of the most mysterious and magnificent order and of sublimest intensity are necessary to convert the possibilities of human nature into actualities. Too often morality is discussed as though it were altogether a question of sufficient knowledge, of good

judgment and common sense; morality means utility, and must be determined by prudence: show people that their interest and happiness are best secured by virtuous conduct, and they will pursue the right pathway. All that we require is a "perfect perception of policy." But these philosophers ignore patent and potent facts of human nature; the blinding power of desire, the sophistry of selfishness, the madness of lust, the defiance of self-will, the irrationality of temper and impatience, the illusions of a wanton fancy, the overwhelming insistence of immediate gain and pleasure—all these must be withstood and mastered before we can do the just, the noble, and the pure; and only in large spiritual considerations and influences do we find ourselves equal to the emergency. These spiritual considerations and influences at their highest are supplied by the Christian faith.

Elaborate moral codes existed at the period of the Advent. The various virtues were defined; they were described with great precision and beauty, and were enforced by eloquent arguments: yet these ethical systems failed to assert themselves, they lacked the authority and energy to defy unfriendly environments, they remained literature, they could not take root, grow, bloom, and prevail. A modern traveller through the wild wastes of country beyond Tripoli reports that in the deserts he came upon extensive patches of brilliantly coloured flowers: although growing in the dried-up torrent-beds of a land from which the scorch

ing sky had licked up every atom of moisture, the flowers were apparently in vivid and mysterious bloom. Upon nearer approach the traveller found the unique phenomenon explained. The flowers had been actually mummified in the drought and heat, and with their natural tints preserved were permanent as though cut in paper. Thus the literature of classic lands surprises us with patches of brilliantly coloured moral teaching in apparently living bloom; but closer examination shows its artificiality-it was little more than speculative, academic, traditional; and although it exhibited the natural expression and tints of the virtues, it had, like the petrified flowers of the desert, no vitality. What a mighty change followed the coming of our Lord! "Everything shall live whither the river cometh." Revealing the holy God, the eternal universe, the spirituality of human nature, and pouring forth on humanity the Holy Spirit, our Lord put a soul into morality: He gave it a sound root, planted it in a vital soil, and henceforth the righteousness of man was superseded by the righteousness of God. The virtues, as they bloom thickly in the Epistles of Paul and Peter, of John and James, are no scentless desert patches of petrified flowers; the reader finds himself in a choice garden, he listens to the music of the water, and charity, temperance, purity, justice, patience, and a hundred other graces display the lustre and sparkle of life: they grow like roses, shine like lilies, smell like lavender. The difference is simply infinite between the