The great advantage of this form of religious hypothesis, which for want of a better name I call Zoroastrianism, is that, in the first place, it gets rid of the antagonism between religion and science, for there is no possible discovery of science which is irreconcilable with the fact that there is a necessary and inevitable polarity of good and evil, and in the background a great unknown, which may be regarded with those feelings and aspirations which are inseparable from human nature. And secondly, there is the still greater advantage that we can devote ourselves with a whole heart and sincere mind to the worship of the good principle, without paltering with our moral nature by professing to love and adore a Being who is the author of all the evil and misery in the world as well as of the good. If it were really true that there were such a Being as theologians describe, who created the immense majority of the human race vessels of wrath doomed to eternal punishment, either from pure caprice or to avenge the slight offered to Him by the disobedience of a remote ancestor, what would be the attitude of every healthy human soul towards such a Being? Rather that of Prometheus or Satan, than of Gabriel or Michael; of heroic defiance than of abject submission. We may gloss this over in words, but the fact remains, and it is difficult to overestimate the amount of evil which has resulted in the world from this confusion of moral sentiments which has made good men do devil’s work in the belief that it had divine sanction.
The horrors of demonology and witchcraft had their origin in texts of the Old Testament; religious wars and persecutions arose out of the fundamental error that intellectual acceptance of doubtful dogmas was the one thing necessary for salvation; and ruthless cruelty was justified by an appeal to God’s anger with Saul for refusing to hew in pieces the captive Amalekites. A follower of Zoroaster would see at once that these were works of Ahriman and not of Ormuzd, and that in taking part in them he was deserting the standard under which he had enlisted, and doing deeds of darkness while pretending to serve the Prince of Light. This idea of being a soldier enlisted in the army of light seems to me to afford one of the strongest practical inducements to hate what is evil and cleave to what is good. A bad deed or foul thought is felt to be not only wrong but dishonourable: a disloyal going over to the enemy and abandonment of the chief under whom we had enlisted, and of the comrades with whom we had served. This is a very strong motive, and even in the humble ranks of the Salvation Army we can see how powerfully it operates to make men true to their banner.
Indeed a great deal of what is best in genuine Christianity seems to me to resolve itself very much into the worship of Jesus as the Ormuzd or personification of the good principle, and determination to try to follow his example and do his work. It happens to me to receive a good many circulars from the devoted men and women who are doing so much charitable work to assist the poor and fallen, and I observe that the appeals are almost constantly made in the name of Jesus. When the Salvation Army made an appeal the other day to its members for funds to prosecute their campaign, it was touching to read the replies and see men parting with an overcoat or giving up their beer, and women going without a new bonnet or cup of tea, to contribute their mite. But always for the ‘love of Jesus,’ for the ‘Saviour’s sake,’ as an offering to the ‘dear Redeemer.’ Theological Christianity says that the one thing needful is to believe in the Catholic Faith as defined by the Athanasian Creed, without which we shall ‘without doubt perish everlastingly.’ Practical Christianity has completely dropped the Holy Ghost as a sort of fifth wheel to the coach, and relegated the Father into ever vaguer and greater distance; while it has fastened more and more on the figure of Jesus of Nazareth as the practical living embodiment of the good principle of the universe. In a word, Christianity, as it has become more reasonable, more charitable, more pure, and more elevated, has approximated more and more to Zoroastrianism, and for practical purposes modern Christians are, to a great extent, without knowing it, worshippers of Ormuzd, with Christ for their Ormuzd.
To this I see no sort of objection. The tendency to personify abstract principles in something which is warmer, dearer, nearer to ourselves, is ineradicable in human nature; and especially among the great masses of mankind who cannot rise to the height of philosophical speculations. It is impossible in the present age to invent new personifications, or to revive old ones. Jesus has the immense advantage of being in possession of the field, with all the accumulated love and reverence of nineteen centuries of followers. It would be difficult to invent a better ideal or a more perfect example. No doubt the ideal, like all human conceptions, is not absolutely perfect; it is subject to the law of polarity, and its excellences, if pushed to the ‘falsehood of extremes,’ in many cases become faults. It would not do in practice if smitten on one cheek to turn the other, or to take no thought for the morrow and live like the sparrows. The opposition between the flesh and the spirit is also stated so absolutely, that it is apt to lead to a barren and ignoble asceticism. But those are elements which, practically, are not likely to be pushed to excess, and which serve rather to mitigate the tendencies of modern civilisation to an undue preponderance of the opposite polarities of selfishness, worldliness, and sensuality. Courage, hardihood, self-reliance, foresight, a love of progress, and a desire to attain independence, will always remain prominent virtues, especially of the stronger races, and the gentler teachings of Christianity will long be wanted as an influence to soften, to elevate, and to purify. By all means, therefore, let Christians remain Christians, and see in Christ their Ormuzd, or personification of the good principle. Only let them remember that there are two sides to every question, and cease to entertain hard and bitter thoughts towards those who follow the truth after a different fashion. Let them delight rather to discover unity in the spirit than differences in the letter, and instead of anathematising with Athanasius those who dissent by one hair’s breadth from the Catholic faith, strive with St. Paul after that charity which ‘suffereth long and is kind: beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.’
This will be easier if they recollect that love and reverence for Jesus, as the personification of the good principle, is in no way connected with the supernatural dogmas and legends which have come down from superstitious ages, and which are seen every day, more and more clearly, to stand in direct contradiction to the real facts and real laws of the universe. He is the bright example of the highest ideal of human virtue, not on account of miracles, but in spite of them; not because he was a transcendental abstraction with attributes altogether outside of human experience or conception; but because he was a man whom other men can love and other men can strive to imitate. The dogmas and miracles may quietly fade out of sight, as so many articles of the Athanasian Creed have already done, like mists before the rising rays of larger knowledge and purer morality, and yet the essence of Christianity will remain, as a worship of the good and beautiful, personified in the brightest example which has been afforded—that of Jesus, the son of the carpenter of Nazareth.
CHAPTER XII.
CHRISTIANITY AND MORALS.
Christianity based on morals—Origin of morality—Traced in Judaism—Originates in evolution—Instance of murder—Freedom of will—Will suspended in certain states of brain—Hypnotism—Mechanical theory—Pre-established harmony—Human and animal conscience—Analysis of will—Explained by polarity—Practical conclusion.