Volume XI.

Number 2

On the 22d of June, 1893, the Mediterranean squadron of English war-ships was practising fleet evolutions off the Syrian coast, in the Tripoli roadstead. The fleet consisted of thirteen war-ships, under the command of Admiral Tryon; and, after the program of the day had been completed, the order was given to return to anchorage in a double column, the paired ships to be six cable lengths apart just before reaching anchorage.

The flag-ship "Victoria" signalled the fleet to turn inward, so that each pair of ships should turn around in a circle. When Rear Admiral Markham saw the signal from the "Camperdown," the companion ship to the "Victoria," he directed the flag lieutenant to keep the signal at dip, as an indication that the signal from the "Victoria" was not understood; and immediately came the reply, "What are you waiting for?" And 80 the commander obeyed orders, and turned the prow of his ship inward, to the certain destruction of one or both of the vessels.

When the admiral saw that a collision was inevitable, he reversed his engines, but in vain. The "Camperdown" struck the "Victoria" just in front of the turrets, and crushed into the ship nearly to the centre. For a short time the ships were interlocked; and then, as the "Victoria" headed for the shore, she slowly sank, until with a plunge she turned completely over, and disappeared from sight forever, with four hundred and

fifty officers and men on board. Thus were lost many precious lives and a vessel which cost three or four million dollars, all through the insane obstinacy of one man and the blind obedience of another, who felt sure that to obey meant collision and shipwreck.

Now, the question I wish to propose to you, as an introduction to our discussion of the law of Christian obedience, is this: Did Admiral Markham do right in following that fatal order?

Probably most soldiers and sailors, upon whom strict and unquestioning obedience has been impressed as the first requisite of their profession, would say, Yes. He had no alternative but to obey. And yet the court-martial which considered this terrible accident decided otherwise. While it placed the whole responsibility upon Admiral Tryon, who sank bravely with his ship, and thus partially atoned for his mistake, which seems to have been due to obstinacy as much as anything, still the court declared in the first place that Admiral Markham did wrong in interpreting the signal, "What are you waiting for?" as a fresh order to perform the fatal evolution; and, second, that, knowing, as he did, that there was not room enough between the ships to allow them to circle around without a collision, he would have been justified in refusing to obey it. Yet they did not censure him, for the good of the service would not allow a man to be reprimanded for obeying orders.

This incident is interesting as showing that the time has come in the navy when there is a feeling that blind obedience is not the highest, and that there are occasions when reason is better than submission to authority. It is, therefore, the expression of a new principle which is coming to be felt in the place of all others where obedience is most imperative.

If you look back in history, you will find the consensus of opinion is that it is better to be defeated while obeying orders than to be victorious by disobeying them.

The soldier in the sentry-box at Pompeii, who guarded the city even after the fire from heaven overwhelmed it, is the type of

faithfulness. The Six Hundred who rode

into the jaws of death and the mouth of hell,

without even a forlorn hope,—for they knew

some one had blundered,-were looked upon as the model soldiers; and their praises are sung in song and poetry.

Yet, though these are sublime, as showing the height of self-forgetfulness to which courage and duty will lift people, as soon as you begin to consider the following of the letter of orders rather than their spirit, it can soon lead to absurdity.

I have heard the story of a new recruit, who, when told to stand guard at a certain place, would not change a step, though he had to walk in the water up to his waist, from a flood that came upon him; and, when the officer of the guard came to release him, he would not receive the password except in a whisper, and so made his superior, who had put him on guard, wade out in the water, and give it to him. Now, this man, like the guard who would not let Napoleon by him because he did not have the password, may have been a good soldier; but he comes pretty close to showing that idiocy is the first criterion of the good soldier, and what the army wants is machinery, not men.

The battle of Missionary Ridge, it is said, was commanded by the privates. Some not over-bright general had stationed them at the foot of the hill, where the enemy could pour a withering fire upon them; and the soldiers, led by the gallant Sheridan, rushed up the hill, and put the enemy to flight, without any orders.

There are many other instances which go to show that rational obedience which con

to be even in war more important than blind submission. But 1 hasten on to the obedience of general life, where I am on firmer ground; for I recognize that obedience is the primary requisite to the soldier, as Kipling conceives it to be of the Jungle. "Now these are the laws of the Jungle, And many and mighty are they; But the head and the hoof of the Law, And the haunch and the hump, is — Obey."

The story is told of General Havelock that one evening his wife asked him where their son Henry was. He started to his feet, saying: "The poor fellow! he must be standing on London Bridge. I made an appointment to meet him there at noon to-day, and in the press of business I forgot to keep the appointment." The general rushed out and Henry standing on the bridge at ten o'clock got a cab, and, hurrying to the bridge, found at night, in the cold and rain, waiting for his father, who was to have come ten hours before.

Now, this may be quoted as a great instance of filial obedience; but it seems to me an instance of supreme foolishness. How long would faithful Henry have waited? Till the crack of doom. Is there not a

point here where blind obedience ceases to

be a virtue?

Take another instance. Tiberius had a servant who had such implicit faith in his master that he declared he would carry out any order he might give him. Whereupon he was asked, "Would you burn the capital if Cæsar so ordered?" And he answered, "Yes." Was this a virtue or a vice? A vice, say I. The true servant, the true subject, out of the allegiance of his heart, must render a reasonable service; and, if the command is wrong or absurd or impossible, he should do as others have done,-appeal from Cæsar out of his mind to Cæsar sane, from Cæsar drunk to Cæsar sober.

"The cry of patriotism

Is not my country, right or wrong,—
My country for the right."

It is this sort of blind submission that gave point and pith to Shelley's apostrophe where he declares,

"Obedience,

Obedience I like to hear used only in the good sense of the free, joyous acceptance of a rule of duty among minds.

Fear and blind authority, utility, interest, may produce submission. An arbitrary, overruling fate we may acquiesce in. But when we have the heart and mind, as well as the hand, is the only time we truly obey. The demands of the outward authority must be of a more moral mind to a less, of a higher reason to a lower, else it is not a true Christian obedience.

Even with our children, when we see the self-assertion of life begins as a blind resistance to its environment, we find that verbal authority soon fails. To say to them, Do this because I tell you, or Desist from that because I will it, is followed by a Why, mamma? or Why, papa? that is not satisfied until a reason beyond whim or caprice is given for the command that must be obeyed.

The child that obeys just because the parent says so does not grow in grace and knowledge, in favor with God and man. Blind, unquestioning obedience we expect of a horse. Man is capable of better things. And so it is with children of a larger growth. Forced obedience, like hot-house fruits, is lacking in flavor and life. It is not a natural product, and so is not of the highest value.

Even the moral law, which used to be looked upon as an inflexible, unreasoning commander, a categorical imperative which simply said must, must, must, is losing that aspect of far-away and sovereign authority, and we are beginning to see that conscience is the free insight of a spirit into realms of truth and love, where we are not called servants, but friends.

What I mean is well illustrated by some religions of the world. The follower of Mohammed looks upon Allah as a supreme will, who sits in majesty above the world, and commands men as his servants to submit to his august authority, as an eastern potentate rules his subjects. Here the king can do no wrong; and his word and whim is law, not to be gainsaid, but obeyed. Islam means literally submission, or humbling one's self to the rule of Allah,-not his wisdom or his love, but his will.

In Christianity also Calvinism finds its end in the will of God, not his reason or his

love. God made infinite decrees, some of them of fearful human moment, for no reason except that that was his will.

In the Catholic Church the great word it calls the Alpha and Omega of a faithful son of the Church is obedience, which is unquestioning and all-absorbing. Its constant command and exhortation is, Do as the Church says, and we will see to your spiritual welfare both in this world and the next.

Now, what I have been trying to say is that this is not the highest form of obedience, and is a doubtful virtue. The flower of obedience is intelligent understanding. when things are done because they are beautiful and right and true, and not simply because they are commanded by some external power.

At least, this is what Jesus demands of his followers. In the passage from which our text is taken he tries to lift his disciples up to a level with himself. They had followed and obeyed him before as children,

blindly, as moths the light: now he would have them work as friends, not as servants. All his plans and aims they know; and he desires that they do God's work for the same reason he was doing it, and not because he commands it of them.

He himself was helping the Father do his work. As he says, "I do only what I see the Father doing." The allegiance was not blind and unreasoning. There was no chasm between the authority and the subject. He was not the servant, but the friend. No, the Son of God, who sits in all the family councils and enters into the divine reasons. The great word is Together.

And so I conceive that our attitude toward God's will and his authority should be the same. In the spiritual ideals he has placed within our hearts he has said: Follow them. They alone are worthy. Come, let us reason together. I point out to you a more excellent way. And so the deep within our souls answers to the deep without; and the command becomes a persuasion, the order a privilege.

Among minds, the human and divine, there is no absolute kingship except that of truth, goodness, and beauty; and what God wills he wills because it is good, and because it is true, and because it is beautiful.

It is no act of an oppressor, no foreign law impressed upon our souls. It is the call

of the God above us to the God within our hearts, and the answer of the child, "Here I am, my Father," to the divine calling, "Where art thou, my son?"

You remember the old legend of Abfaham being called upon to offer in sacrifice his son Isaac. It is an interesting story of obedience as it is; but how much greater it would be if, when the dream or vision came, telling him to offer his son, he had said: Avaunt my sight! The Lord of heaven and earth, whom I worship, who has led me out of the Chaldees, delights not in burnt-offering and sacrifice; and, if I have sinned, shall I offer the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?

But now, I fear, some of you have misunderstood me, and are thinking, I do not believe obedience is the highest virtue in life, and the great word of religion; but I do. All I am contending for is this: that true obedience is of the head and heart and hand combined. I have not told you only to obey yourself, your own opinions and your own motives,-far from it. But I have tried to say that you must to your own self be true before you can be true to man and God. Christian obedience is not that of the soldier to his general, the servant to his master, but of friend to friend, son to a father.

The best illustration of Christian obedience that I know is found in the life of William Penn, and yet in an external way it looks like a life of rebellion and conflict. When at school at Oxford, he was converted to the doctrine of the Friends,-of the Inner Light. So the formalism of the Established Church aroused his indignation; and because he refused to wear the college gown and attend chapel where they read "book prayers" he was expelled. Then his father, the stern but loving warrior, called the Quaker son home for advice and counsel. The father was willing to forgive him if he would give up the ideas of the Quakers, at least so far as to take off his hat in the presence of the king, the Duke of York, and his father; but Quaker William replied that he could uncover to none but Almighty God. Many times he went to prison for his persistency in preaching and refusing to take off his hat in court. And yet, in spite of his infringement of the authority of school and parent and king, he was always obedi

He did not oppose

ent to the Inner Light. college authority from hatred, but because he was persuaded that formal prayers and surplices were but mock religion. He regretted that consistency would not allow him to take off his hat in the presence of his father. He loved him dearly, but he felt that respect and love did not require from any one the servile submission of the bared head; for God only should be worshipped, and this to him was akin to worship. In all his conflict with legal authority it was the arbitrariness of courts he combated. He believed it the birthright of every free Englishman to worship God according to the dictates of conscience. Thus we find nowhere a spirit of rebellion for its own sake, but the truest obedience to the highest light God had given him. He could not be disobedient to the heavenly vision in his soul.

God grant that we all may be as faithful and obedient. For remember our privilege, remember our high calling.

Not servants, but friends,-friends of God and joint heirs with Christ, fellow-citizens with the saints and of the household of God.

THE GRANDER REVELATION.

BY MINOT J. SAVAGE.

Notes from an address before the Unitarian Club of Boston, Jan. 8, 1896.

The Nature of Religion.

*** If you go down to the religion of the fetich-worshipper, -the lowest type of religion you can find in the world, -you find a man who has come to the belief that, in connection with a curiously formed stick or a stone or a serpent, is an invisible, -a Power that he incomprehensible Power,thinks of, perhaps, as somewhat like himself, at least a power that is able to help him or to hurt him. He worships that Power, he attempts to buy off its anger. He brings his thank-offerings, if he has received what he regards as a favor from this source. What is he trying to do? He is

trying to get into favorable relations with

this invisible Power that he thinks of as

controlling in some way his destiny.

Now, if we come up along the lines of religious development, let us take an enormous leap, and come to the time of the

Temple of Solomon at Jerusalem, in the days of the Jews' greatest 'grandeur. The people have come up from different parts of the country to worship on the occasion of one of the great festivals. Here is the great choir of singers: the sacrifices are offered. The High Priest goes into the holy of holies: he comes out, and blesses the people. What are these Jews trying to do? They have a theory of their own moral and spiritual natures, and of their great Jehovah, the God who holds their destiny in his hands; and they are trying to do exactly what the fetich-worshipper was trying to do, to get, according to the best light they have, into favorable relations to their God, to ward off his anger, to purchase his favor, to bring thanks for his blessings.

Christianity's Effort.

If you come up to the time of Jesus and his disciples, what were they trying to do? With their changed and grander conception of God, they were trying to get into right relations with Him. If you come up to the time of the Reformation, what were Luther and Calvin after? They believed that they had new light on these great problems. They had a higher conception of man and his nature, a clearer conception of God; but all their religion was an attempt to get into right relations with their God. What was Channing trying to do, and Parker? They believed they held a truer conception of man and a truer thought about God; but they were trying to do just what Jesus and his disciples, just what the Jews in the time of the temple, just what the fetich-worshipper, were trying to do, to get into right relations with their God. What are we, in our modern Unitarianism, trying to do? We are trying to solve the same problem, -to get into right relations with God.

Agnostic Position.

What is the agnostic trying to do? for I wish to show that this relation existing between us and the infinite, unseen Power outside of us is a relation that we cannot escape, no matter what our theory of the universe or of man. The agnostic says, "I do not know anything about this Power": only he does know that there is a Power outside himself, -a Power that was here before he was, and will be here after he has passed away. He knows perfectly well

that life, our mental sanity, our happiness, our prosperity in every direction, depend upon so much knowledge as we have of this Infinite Power, and the amount of obedience we are able to render to its laws. Suppose a man is an atheist: it does not make any difference, so far as this eternal relation, which is the essence of religion, is concerned. If a man believes that, outside the conscious life with which he is acquainted, there is nothing but dirt, nothing but a purely material universe, it does not make any difference. This universe is still his father. It has produced him, it was here before him, it will be here after him; and, meantime, life, prosperity, happiness, all that men desire, depend upon some knowledge of this Power, and upon the amount of his obedience to its laws.

Real Religion.

Religion, then, the essence of it, is man's thought concerning the relation that exists between him and this Infinite Power that is not himself. And the emotional side of his religion is only the feeling that naturally follows and accompanies the thought, — high and grand, if his thought is high and grand, poor and mean, if his thought is poor and mean. And the institutional side of religion-altars, sacrifices, priesthoods, rituals, Bibles, prayers, hymns, all that makes up the external side of religion-is nothing but the incarnation, so to speak, of man's thought-feeling concerning the relation in which he stands to this Infinite Power.

Permanence of Religion.

Do you not see, then, that there is no possibility of religion's dying out? So long as the universe stands, and so long as there is a man in it capable of thinking and feeling concerning the relation in which he stands to this Power, so long religion must endure. As well might a ship-captain think he could outsail the horizon, as well might a bird think he could outfly the atmosphere, as for a man to think he could escape this eternal relation which is the essential thing in all the religions of the world.

Man, then, is a religious being. Religion has been in the past the mightiest power that has swayed the destiny of the world. Religion is to-day the mightiest power, religion is to be in the future the mightiest power. There is no possibility of escaping it or outgrowing it.