X THE VALIDITY AND GLORY OF Then said Jesus unto His disciples, If any man would come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me.-MAtt. xvi. 24. Τ HE repugnance of the carnal mind to the doc trine of self-sacrifice is expressed by Peter: "Be it far from Thee, Lord: this shall never be unto Thee." The necessity of such sacrifice, however, is vehemently affirmed by our Lord: "But He turned, and said unto Peter, Get thee behind Me, Satan : thou art a stumbling-block unto Me: for thou mindest not the things of God, but the things of men." So He still rebukes those who question the fact and principle of His atoning death; I must suffer, so also must all My followers. He who would become My disciple must daily deny his own natural self, and follow Me in the paths of duty and service, being faithful even unto death if circumstances so demand. I. REDEMPTION THROUGH SACRIFICE IS THE SUPREME PRINCIPLE OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH. The race is not saved by philosophy, government, or example, but by self-denial pushed to its last issues. Our personal salvation is made possible through the sacrifice of Christ; and the selfsame spirit of renunciation must animate all His disciples. As the New Testament boldly declares, we have redemption only through blood. If anything is clear in its teachings, it is this. A hundred times, from every possible point of view, it insists that Christ died for a guilty race, and that life is secured for us only through His death. The theory of the Atonement is not of vital import, but that the death of Christ is the basis on which God forgives sin and confers uttermost salvation is an indisputable fact to all who are free to accept the New Testament language in its natural sense. And modern thought, in a remarkable manner, has vindicated the sacrificial principle; that is, the principle of one suffering for another, of one suffering for many, and therefore, by logical inference, the possibility of One suffering for all. Science has recognized the doctrine of sacrifice as prevailing throughout the natural realm. If certain theologians are shy touching this article of their creed, the balance is redressed by the scientists, who have become unconsciously orthodox. The botanist points out how one portion of a flower is sacrificed for the welfare of the flower as a whole; how certain leaves patriotically perish to enable the plant to put on the full glory of the summer. The entomologist finds the same principle in insect life and polity. For example, little of the intense activity of the bee is on account of its own pleasure: its gifts, habits, industry mainly design the benefit of the species. Modern natural history is full of these instances of the qualification of the individual for the good of the community. "It appears to be a law that, whenever large numbers of living objects, whether of animals or plants, congregate together, some of them are modified for the benefit of the rest." Thoughtless people may dismiss these facts lightly; yet it is certainly significant to discover the law of sacrifice operative on the lower ranges of creation, to find the unit in all departments of nature deprived of liberty and life in the interests of the community of which it is a member. The deeper view of nature entertained by modern thinkers supplies a striking commentary on the profound passage which reveals the Lamb slain before the foundation of the world. The fanciful poetry of the past traced in the passion-flower the symbols of redemption-the cross, the crown of thorns, the spear, the nails; but in our day austere science declares the planet itself to be a passion-flower, and shows the sublime law of self-sacrifice working throughout its entire structure and development. If science thus gives an unexpected sanction to the doctrine of sacrifice, sociology furnishes a not less extraordinary sanction. The philosopher is convinced that if civilization and progress are to be maintained and advanced, the immediate interests of the individual must necessarily be continually abrogated for the wel fare of the social organism. A century ago political economy recognized individual selfishness in commerce and government as the mainspring of civilization and progress, and pleaded for the protection in many departments of the purely personal privilege; but this view has now been radically changed. What an immense distance has political economy travelled from Jeremy Bentham to Benjamin Kidd! Carlyle sneered at political economy as the "dismal science," and in his time the nickname was merited: the progress of thought, however, has converted the "dismal science" into poetry; and schools, chambers of commerce, and parliaments, transcending the old prosaic, egoistic talk, ring with eloquent words long confined to the Church -sympathy, mutuality, brotherhood, mercy, humanity, sacrifice. The rival social theories of the several schools greatly differ: some are impudent attempts to legalize burglary, whilst others plead convincingly for the neglected and wronged; but the common salient feature of modern systems of political economy is that of a social philosophy akin to philanthropy. Another point which ought not to be overlooked is this-that the more perfect civilization becomes, the more it appreciates the doctrine of self-sacrifice. The late Sir J. Fitzjames Stephen once wrote, "The Christian admiration for self-sacrifice will disappear, and it will turn out that the respectable man of the world was, after all, in the right." Is there the faintest sign of the dawning popularity of the respectable man—that is, the selfish man? Do you paint his portrait? Do you set up his statue in marble or bronze? Do your poets sing him? Do you throng his funeral and bury him with tears? Is there any kindling enthusiasm for the selfish? Not in the least. The selfish man who now appears amongst us is one born out of due time, he has mistimed his advent on this planet. He has had his reward; and if he does not know it, the age does. Paint, marble, songs, and roses are reserved for heroes, patriots, and martyrs-for the sublimely unselfish who count not their life dear to them so that they serve their generation. France is stripped of flowers wherewith to strew the grave of Pasteur; you adorn the statue of Lincoln with gorgeous wreaths; and if floral anniversaries are unknown in England, we yet pay our special homage to the memory of men renowned for magnanimity and sacrifice. More and more are those extolled who suffer for others; and not only do we honour the great and splendid, but stokers, firemen, fishermen, lifeboat crews, the very humblest of our fellows are immortalized if they dare, and do, and die, for the brotherhood. George Sand writes to Mazzini, "Man's sufferings excite our interest or sympathy only when endured for the sake of mankind. His martyrdom is only grand when resembling that of Christ; you know it, you feel it, you have said it. That is why your crown of thorns was laid on your forehead: in order that every one of those burning thorns might instil in your mighty forehead one of the sufferings |