III

THE PURE IN HEART SHALL SEE GOD1

"Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God."— MATTHEW v. 8.

ONE of the most authentic and most interesting accounts of Christian martyrdoms is to be found in the history of the persecution of which Lyons was the centre in the year 177. Beginning in popular clamour and continually urged on by the violence of excited mobs, it was not only taken up by the authority of the local magistrates, but on account of the Roman citizenship of some of the victims it became necessary to consult the Emperor; and the final deeds of blood were committed under direct imperial sanction. And the notable thing is that the Emperor, who thus became responsible for crimes committed under the name of law, which we cannot read without shuddering to learn what a wild beast man can be to man, was no other than he, the self-denial

1 Preached at Great St. Mary's, Cambridge, June 1, 1884.

(may we not say the holiness ?) of whose life approached nearest to Christianity,-Marcus Aurelius. The world has seldom seen an example of power so unlimited, wielded so conscientiously by a perfectly irresponsible ruler, whose one object was not to gain enjoyment for himself, but to fulfil what he believed to be his duty. Indeed we feel it now to be the weakest point in his philosophy, that it was so joyless, and could do so little for the happiness of its professors. In this respect the Emperor contrasts unexpectedly with those whom he committed to the sword as criminals. Which might we expect to be the happier, the ruler of the civilised world, who had only to form a wish and his commands were executed, or those outcasts of society whom their fellow-citizens regarded with such horror and loathing that the physical pain they had to endure was a less trial than their knowledge that every fresh cruelty ordered by the magistrates was considered by the clamouring spectators to be punishment too mild for their guilt? Yet in the history of the martyrdoms the prominent feature is the enthusiastic joy of the sufferers. Those, indeed, whose constancy failed in the trial, hung their heads downcast for shame, but the steadfast were seen with countenances radiant with joy, so rapt in ecstatic contemplation that they had scarce consciousness of

the tortures applied to them. And meanwhile the Emperor himself, at whose word these things were done, rather tolerated than enjoyed life. That he refrained from suicide was due rather to a sense of duty than to any pleasure this life gave him. Whether Stoicism or Christianity be the truer system of philosophy may be a subject for discussion, but if the question were put which was more capable of bringing to its professors happiness and joy, the most ardent Stoic might yield the point without a struggle.

The two systems of philosophy, however, agreed in teaching the lesson, "Love not the world, nor the things which are in the world; and what has led me to speak of Marcus Aurelius now is in order that we may consider the argument by which he disciplined himself, and justified himself in his disregard of the things in which other men find happiness and pleasure. Consider, he says, any of the things in which other men place their delight, and analyse it, and you will find it undeserving of the esteem they set on it. Do they take pleasure in music? Well, take one note, sound it, and listen to it, and is there any beauty in it? sound the next note, listen to that too, is it any better? and so on for every note. The whole thing when pulled to pieces is found to have nothing in it. So in like manner if they

take pleasure in looking at dancing: consider any one attitude of the dancers, fix it and regard it, and where is the beauty of it? So likewise for the pancration and everything else in which men imagine they find pleasure; analyse them and you will find that not one can stand the test; not one when pulled to pieces will be found to have anything in it. We need not doubt that this argument was used seriously by the Emperor in his reasonings with himself, and that it was part of the process by which he disciplined his mind to that detachment from the world at which he aimed; but I am sure we must feel, too, that if he hoped by means of it to influence the feelings or the conduct of other people, there are few indeed to whom it would carry any persuasion.

But it seems to me that the argument is neither more nor less sophistical than that analysis, claiming to be scientific, by which in the same manner that Marcus Aurelius tried to show that there was nothing real in our conceptions of beauty, others have tried to show that there was nothing real in our notions of God. In fact, the weapons that have been used to demolish old religious beliefs are much more powerful than those who wielded them were aware of. Bishop Butler showed long ago that the chief arguments which had been directed against the special system of Christianity

could not in consistency be employed by the Deists who used them, since if the principles involved in their objections were rigorously carried out, it would not be possible to believe that the world we live in was controlled by an intelligent and benevolent Ruler. In the modern state of the infidel controversy this way of repelling assaults on Christianity has lost its effectiveness because a great mass of the most troublesome assailants now are willing to carry out their principles to the full, and to give up not only their Christianity but their old-fashioned Theism; hoping, however, by some new religion of science or art to give some other satisfaction to the wants in man's nature which religion aimed at supplying. They little know, however, how potent are the instruments they have used in their assaults on traditional beliefs, and how little resistance anything they are minded to retain is able to make to similar attacks.

They cannot help acknowledging what an important part religion has played in the history of mankind. They know that to the great majority of their fellow-citizens the beliefs which they reject still continue to be the source of their strongest, purest, and noblest emotions, their consolation in time of trial, their strength in time of temptation. When affliction befalls where else