"But," I replied, "surely misguided fanaticism, of which the world is full, is proof of nothing whatever, unless of the sincerity of the madman—not always of that."

"My dear Ah-Chin, you are very quick, and no fool (I beg pardon), but you do not understand it. The Superstitious parts are mere forms; and as to the horrors, as you call them, I think them indispensable; they are better than the Police." (The Police are the officers who arrest offenders in the streets and public places.)

The Bonzes who talk in this way are, usually, what are derisively termed "hunting and fishing" Bonzes, not remarkable for strictness of conduct, though quite as likely to stick to the Temples, like our Bonzes; they are not likely to pull down the roof which shelters them. The Superstition is less revered than formerly, and its wilder parts are less obtrusive. Its pretensions are not moderated in terms, but the practice is more moderate. Sects do not put each other to death, at present, though so much of the old bitterness remains that no one can say what horrors might follow upon unexpected changes. Gradually wise men endeavour to drop out of sight the Jewish and Priestly creations, and, inculcating morality, take the Christ-God as symbol of Charity, and his moral precepts as the basis of a moral Philosophy; or (to be less offensive to the Superstition) Christian Philosophy. In this way they seize hold of what is true in the Great Idolatry, and endeavour to ignore the grosser parts altogether. They hope to bring about a rational worship without violence, by a gradual disuse and forgetfulness of the irrational, and are willing to yield something to ignorance, if they can by that means, in the end, enlighten it. They allow to Christ an exalted character, large in the divine faculty, and divine as man is divine in possessing that faculty—to say, the moral. In this, much as we see in our exalted Confutze, who lived and taught long before the period ascribed to Christ, and from whom the Western tribes, doubtless, received their moral notions.

The religion of Wise men is the same at all times and everywhere. Wherever some intellectual culture exists, men will be found who understand and practise the rules of morality; and wherever this is general, there is the higher civilisation. This higher civilisation, resting upon a general morality among a people, has for its base a rational recognition of the Sovereign Lord and man's dependency and accountability to Him; Father of men; and Himself the source of this morality. He, in this faculty, reveals Himself, and shows to man his sole claim to a divine relationship.

This higher civilisation does not mistake intellectual achievement as its title to enlightenment. The sharp and active brain is quite consistent with the base and low; and may be indifferent to superstitions and degrading idolatries. But the moral faculty, active and large, at once refines and exalts the intellect; then men are truly wise, and degrading superstitions die.

The object, then, to which the true worshipper aims, everywhere, is to bring man out of a debased into an enlightened recognition of the Supreme Lord and of this simple relationship; to teach that the human race form one family, united indissolubly to each other, and to the Supreme Lord, by the divine moral faculty, to which the intellect is subordinate; that by this they may be all truly enlightened, and worship simply and truly, with grateful and serene trust, the Supreme Lord and Father of all. This worship can never be other than beneficent. It is only the expression of gratitude; the desire for better wisdom, for still larger charity, a well-doing and serene life, at peace with itself and all beside.

To a civilisation resting upon this simple and direct worship and morality, few barbarians have any perception; their pride and gross superstitions have made it impossible.

The temples are often very grand and beautiful, built of hewn stone, with lofty domes, towers, bells, and spires. The priests are very numerous, and divided into many ranks. The lowest are the curates, who do the "dirty" work, as the English phrase it. They are but little better than beggars, though mentally often superior to those who half-starve them, whilst the higher ranks (by whom they are hired) live luxuriously.

The Sacred Writings say that Christ was Himself a mendicant, and that his first followers were but little better; that he denounced, in bitter terms, all pride and luxury; that the true object of life was not to think of oneself, but of others; to give to the poor, help the distressed, and the like. In truth, this benevolence and the moral precepts of Christ (as I have already said) are its salt [pho-zi].

I have, in the temples, heard a High-Caste Priest eloquently exalt this benevolence, and pointing out the divine charity of the Master (as Christ is often called),—heard him say, "My brethren, give to the poor, help the suffering, do good whenever you can, give your all to Christ."