“I am not a ‘convert’ to any particular set form of faith,—what I care for is the faith itself. One can follow and serve Christ without any church dogma. He has Himself told us plainly, in words simple enough for a child to understand, what He would have us do,—and though I, like many others, must regret the absence of a true Universal Church where the servants of Christ may meet all together without a shadow of difference in opinion, and worship Him as He should be worshiped, still, that is no reason why I should refrain from endeavoring to fulfil, as far as in me lies, my personal duty towards Him. The fact is, Christianity has never yet been rightly taught, grasped, or comprehended;—moreover, as long as men seek through it their own worldly advantage, it never will be,—so that the majority of people are really as yet ignorant of its true spiritual meaning, thanks to the quarrels and differences of sects and preachers. But, notwithstanding the unhappy position of religion at the present day, I repeat I am a Christian, if love for Christ and implicit belief in Him can make me so.”
This is the text on which many of Alwyn’s powerful arguments are based, in dealing, both in and out of society, with those opinions of sceptics and agnostics which had formerly commended themselves to him but which he now combats with convincing clearness and strength. To emphasize his position he quotes that terse rebuke of Carlyle’s, in “Sartor Resartus,” as to the uselessness of Voltaire’s work:
“Cease, my much respected Herr von Voltaire,—shut thy sweet voice; for the task appointed thee seems finished. Sufficiently hast thou demonstrated this proposition, considerable or otherwise: That the Mythus of the Christian Religion looks not in the eighteenth century as it did in the eighth. Alas, were thy six-and-thirty quartos and the six-and-thirty thousand other quartos and folios and flying sheets of reams, printed before and since on the same subject, all needed to convince us of so little! But what next? Wilt thou help us to embody the Divine Spirit of that Religion in a new Mythus, in a new vehicle and vesture, that our Souls, otherwise too like perishing, may live? What! thou hast no faculty of that kind? Only a torch for burning and no hammer for building?—Take our thanks then—and thyself away!”
The theologian and the lay thinker alike must follow with keen interest the arguments of Theos Alwyn against atheism, materialism, and, what Miss Corelli calls, Paulism. Uncompromisingly should those writers be denounced who take immorality for their theme, and achieve considerable sales thereby. The declarations of Alwyn are of particular interest because in them expression is given to many of Marie Corelli’s own views on sacred things. The man or woman who is bewildered by the quarrels of the religious sects of these days, and whose bewilderment is increased by the teachings of the cynics, may well exclaim with Alwyn what a howling wilderness this world would be if given over entirely to materialism, and conclude with him that, if it were, scarce a line of division could be drawn between man and the brute beasts of the field! “I consider,” says the poet, “that if you take the hope of an after-joy and blessedness away from the weary, perpetually toiling Million, you destroy, at one wanton blow, their best, purest, and noblest aspirations. As for the Christian Religion, I cannot believe that so grand and holy a Symbol is perishing among us. We have a monarch whose title is ‘Defender of the Faith,’—we live in the age of civilization which is primarily the result of that faith,—and if, as it is said, Christianity is exploded,—then certainly the greatness of this hitherto great nation is exploding with it! But I do not think, that because a few sceptics uplift their wailing ‘All is vanity’ from their self-created desert of agnosticism, therefore the majority of men and women are turning renegades from the simplest, most humane, most unselfish Creed that ever the world has known. It may be so, but, at present, I prefer to trust in the higher spiritual instinct of man at his best, rather than accept the testimony of the lesser Unbelieving against the greater Many, whose strength, comfort, patience and endurance, if these virtues come not from God, come not at all.”
To those who, through the atheistic views of some in the churches and of the hosts outside, begin to feel doubt as to the truth of the Christian faith, this book “Ardath” will be of enormous value. It will strengthen their faith and aid greatly to carry conviction to those who pause, unable to decide amid the chaotic teachings of conflicting theorists. We praise this book more especially for its virtue as an antidote to the pitiful writings of some female novelists whose vicious themes must do much harm amongst the women of the day. “If women give up their faith,” declares Alwyn to the Duchess de la Santoisie, “let the world prepare for strange disaster! Good, God-loving women,—women who pray,—women who hope,—women who inspire men to do the best that is in them,—these are the safety and glory of nations! When women forget to kneel,—when women cease to teach their children the ‘Our Father,’ by whose grandly simple plea Humanity claims Divinity as its origin,—then shall we learn what is meant by ‘men’s hearts failing them for fear and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth.’ A woman who denies Christ repudiates Him, Who, above all others, made her sex as free and honored as everywhere in Christendom it is. He never refused woman’s prayers,—He had patience for her weakness,—pardon for her sins,—and any book written by woman’s hand that does Him the smallest shadow of wrong is to me as gross an act as that of one who, loaded with benefits, scruples not to murder his benefactor!”
The reading of “Ardath” will help many to the conviction of Theos Alwyn—“God Exists. I, of my own choice, prayer, and hope, voluntarily believe in God, in Christ, in angels, and in all things beautiful, and pure, and grand! Let the world and its ephemeral opinions wither; I will not be shaken down from the first step of the ladder whereon one climbs to Heaven!”
Such is the teaching of this remarkable book “Ardath,” which inculcates these lessons interwoven with a romantic story of fascinating interest.
Towards its close there occurs, again in the person and in the words of Heliobas, a scathing comment upon “spiritualists,” for whom six tests are suggested:
“Firstly.—Do they serve themselves more than others?—If so, they are entirely lacking in spiritual attributes.
“Secondly.—Will they take money for their professed knowledge?—If so, they condemn themselves as paid tricksters.