How much, then, is a man better than a
sheep!—Matt. xii., 12.
On the lips of Christ these noble words
were an exclamation. He knew, as
no one else has ever known, "what was
in man." But to us who repeat them they
often seem like a question. We are so ignorant
of the deepest meaning of manhood, that
we find ourselves at the point to ask in perplexity,
how much, after all, is a man better
than a sheep?
It is evident that the answer to this question
must depend upon our general view of
life. There are two very common ways of
looking at existence that settle our judgment
of the comparative value of a man and a
sheep at once and inevitably.
Suppose, in the first place, that we take a
materialistic view of life. Looking at the
world from this standpoint, we shall see in
it a great mass of matter, curiously regulated
by laws which have results, but no purposes,
and agitated into various modes of motion by
a secret force whose origin is, and forever
must be, unknown. Life, in man as in other
animals, is but one form of this force. Rising
through many subtle gradations, from the
first tremor that passes through the gastric
nerve of a jellyfish to the most delicate vibration
of gray matter in the brain of a Plato
or a Shakespeare, it is really the same from
the beginning to the end—physical in its birth
among the kindred forces of heat and electricity,
physical in its death in cold ashes and
dust. The only difference between man and
other animals is a difference of degree. The
ape takes his place in our ancestral tree, and
the sheep becomes our distant cousin.
It is true that we have somewhat the advantage
of these poor relations. We belong
to the more fortunate branch of the family,
and have entered upon an inheritance considerably
enlarged by the extinction of collateral
branches. But, after all, it is the same
inheritance, and there is nothing in humanity
which is not derived from and destined to
our mother earth.
If, then, we accept this view of life, what
answer can we give to the question, how much
is a man better than a sheep? We must say:
He is a little better, but not much. In some
things he has the advantage. He lives longer,
and has more powers of action and capacities
of pleasure. He is more clever, and has succeeded
in making the sheep subject to his
domination. But the balance is not all on one
side. The sheep has fewer pains as well as
fewer pleasures, less care as well as less power.
If it does not know how to make a coat, at
least it succeeds in growing its own natural
wool clothing, and that without taxation.
Above all, the sheep is not troubled with any
of those vain dreams of moral responsibility
and future life which are the cause of such
great and needless trouble to humanity. The
flocks that fed in the pastures of Bethlehem
got just as much physical happiness out of
existence as the shepherd, David, who watched
them, and, being natural agnostics, they were
free from David's delusions in regard to religion.
They could give all their attention to
eating, drinking, and sleeping, which is the
chief end of life. From the materialistic
standpoint, a man may be a little better than
a sheep, but not much.
Or suppose, in the second place, that we
take the commercial view of life. We shall
then say that all things must be measured by
their money value, and that it is neither
profitable nor necessary to inquire into their
real nature or their essential worth. Men and
sheep are worth what they will bring in the
open market, and this depends upon the supply
and demand. Sheep of a very rare breed
have been sold for as much as five or six
thousand dollars. But men of common stock,
in places where men are plenty and cheap (as,
for example, in Central Africa), may be purchased
for the price of a rusty musket or a
piece of cotton cloth. According to this principle,
we must admit that the comparative
value of a man and a sheep fluctuates with the
market, and that there are times when the
dumb animal is much the more valuable of
the two.
This view, carried out to its logical conclusion,
led to slavery, and put up men and
sheep at auction on the same block, to be disposed
of to the highest bidder. We have
gotten rid of the logical conclusion. But
have we gotten rid entirely of the premise on
which it rested? Does not the commercial
view of life still prevail in civilized society?
There is a certain friend of mine who often
entertains me with an account of the banquets
which he has attended. On one occasion he
told me that two great railroads and the
major part of all the sugar and oil in the
United States sat down at the same table with
three gold-mines and a line of steamships.
"How much is that man worth?" asks the
curious inquirer. "That man," answers some
walking business directory, "is worth a million
dollars; and the man sitting next to him
is not worth a penny." What other answer
can be given by one who judges everything
by a money standard? If wealth is really the
measure of value, if the end of life is the
production or the acquisition of riches, then
humanity must take its place in the sliding
scale of commodities. Its value is not fixt
and certain. It depends upon accidents of
trade. We must learn to look upon ourselves
and our fellow men purely from a business
point of view and to ask only: What can this
man make? how much has that man made?
how much can I get out of this man's labor?
how much will that man pay for my services?
Those little children that play in the squalid
city streets—they are nothing to me or to the
world; there are too many of them; they are
worthless. Those long-fleeced, high-bred sheep
that feed upon my pastures—they are among
my most costly possessions; they will bring an
enormous price; they are immensely valuable.
How much is a man better than a sheep? What
a foolish question! Sometimes the man is
better; sometimes the sheep is better. It all
depends upon the supply and demand.
Now these two views of life, the materialistic
and the commercial, always have prevailed
in the world. Men have held them consciously
and unconsciously. At this very day there are
some who profess them, and there are many
who act upon them, altho they may not be
willing to acknowledge them. They have been
the parents of countless errors in philosophy
and sociology; they have bred innumerable
and loathsome vices and shames and cruelties
and oppressions in the human race. It was
to shatter and destroy these falsehoods, to
sweep them away from the mind and heart
of humanity, that Jesus came into the world.
We can not receive His gospel in any sense,
we can not begin to understand its scope and
purpose, unless we fully, freely, and sincerely
accept His great revelation of the true meaning
and value of man as man.
We say this was His revelation. Undoubtedly
it is true that Christ came to reveal God
to man. But undoubtedly it is just as true
that He came to reveal man to himself. He
called Himself the Son of God, but He called
Himself also the Son of man. His nature was
truly divine, but His nature was no less truly
human. He became man. And what is the
meaning of that lowly birth, in the most helpless
form of infancy, if it be not to teach
us that humanity is so related to Deity that it
is capable of receiving and embodying God
Himself? He died for man. And what is the
meaning of that sacrifice, if it be not to teach
us that God counts no price too great to pay
for the redemption of the human soul? This
gospel of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ
contains the highest, grandest, most ennobling
doctrine of humanity that ever has been proclaimed
on earth. It is the only certain cure
for low and debasing views of life. It is the
only doctrine from which we can learn to
think of ourselves and our fellow men as we
ought to think. I ask you to consider for a
little while the teachings of Jesus Christ in
regard to what it means to be a man.
Suppose, then, that we come to Him with
this question: How much is a man better than
a sheep? He will tell us that a man is infinitely
better, because he is the child of God,
because he is capable of fellowship with God,
and because he is made for an immortal life.
And this threefold answer will shine out for
us not only in the words, but also in the deeds,
and above all in the death, of the Son of God
and the Son of man.
1. Think, first of all, of the meaning of
manhood in the light of the truth that man
is the offspring and likeness of God. This
was not a new doctrine first proclaimed by
Christ. It was clearly taught in the magnificent
imagery of the book of Genesis. The
chief design of that great picture of the beginnings
is to show that a personal Creator
is the source and author of all things that are
made. But next to that, and of equal importance,
is the design to show that man is
incalculably superior to all the other works of
God—that the distance between him and the
lower animals is not a difference in degree,
but a difference in kind. Yes, the difference
is so great that we must use a new word to
describe the origin of humanity, and if we
speak of the stars and the earth, the trees and
the flowers, the fishes, the birds, and the
beasts, as "the works" of God, when man appears
we must find a nobler name and say,
"This is more than God's work; he is God's
child."
Our human consciousness confirms this testimony
and answers to it. We know that there
is something in us which raises us infinitely
above the things that we see and hear and
touch, and the creatures that appear to spend
their brief life in the automatic workings of
sense and instinct. These powers of reason
and affection and conscience, and above all
this wonderful power of free will, the faculty
of swift, sovereign, voluntary choice, belong
to a higher being. We say not to corruption,
"Thou art my father," nor to the worm,
"Thou art my mother"; but to God, "Thou
art my father," and to the great Spirit, "In
thee was my life born."
Not only cunning casts in clay:
Let science prove we are, and then
What matters science unto men,
At least to me? I would not stay.
Let him, the wiser man who springs
Hereafter, up from childhood shape
His action like the greater ape;
But I was born to other things.
Frail as our physical existence may be, in
some respects the most frail, the most defenseless
among animals, we are yet conscious of
something that lifts us up and makes us
supreme. "Man," says Pascal, "is but a
reed, the feeblest thing in nature; but he is
a reed that thinks. It needs not that the universe
arm itself to crush him. An exhalation,
a drop of water, suffice to destroy him. But
were the universe to crush him, man is yet
nobler than the universe; for he knows that
he dies, and the universe, even in prevailing
against him, knows not its power."
Now the beauty and strength of Christ's
doctrine of man lie, not in the fact that He
was at pains to explain and defend and justify
this view of human nature, but in the fact
that He assumed it with an unshaken conviction
of its truth, and acted upon it always and
everywhere. He spoke to man, not as the
product of nature, but as the child of God.
He took it for granted that we are different
from plants and animals, and that we are
conscious of the difference. "Consider the
lilies," He says to us; "the lilies can not consider
themselves: they know not what they
are, nor what their life means; but you know,
and you can draw the lesson of their lower
beauty into your higher life. Regard the
birds of the air; they are dumb and unconscious
dependents upon the divine bounty,
but you are conscious objects of the divine
care. Are you not of more value than many
sparrows?" Through all His words we feel
the thrilling power of this high doctrine of
humanity. He is always appealing to reason,
to conscience, to the power of choice between
good and evil, to the noble and godlike faculties
in man.
And now think for a moment of the fact
that His life was voluntarily, and of set purpose,
spent among the poorest and humblest
of mankind. Remember that He spoke, not to
philosophers and scholars, but to peasants and
fishermen and the little children of the world.
What did He mean by that? Surely it was
to teach us that this doctrine of the meaning
of manhood applies to man as man. It is
not based upon considerations of wealth or
learning or culture or eloquence. Those are
the things of which the world takes account,
and without which it refuses to pay any attention
to us. A mere man, in the eyes of the
world, is a nobody. But Christ comes to
humanity in its poverty, in its ignorance,
stript of all outward signs of power, destitute
of all save that which belongs in common
to mankind; to this lowly child, this very
beggar-maid of human nature, comes the king,
and speaks to her as a princess in disguise,
and lifts her up and sets a crown upon her
head. I ask you if this simple fact ought not
to teach us how much a man is better than a
sheep.
2. But Christ reveals to us another and a
still higher element of the meaning of manhood
by speaking to us as beings who are
capable of holding communion with God and
reflecting the divine holiness in our hearts and
lives. And here also His doctrine gains clearness
and force when we bring it into close connection
with His conduct. I suppose that
there are few of us who would not be ready
to admit at once that there are some men and
women who have high spiritual capacities. For
them, we say, religion is a possible thing.
They can attain to the knowledge of God and
fellowship with Him. They can pray, and
sing praises, and do holy work. It is easy for
them to be good. They are born good. They
are saints by nature. But for the great mass
of the human race this is out of the question,
absurd, impossible. They must dwell in ignorance,
in wickedness, in impiety.
But to all this Christ says, "No!" No, to our
theory of perfection for the few. No, to our
theory of hopeless degradation for the many.
He takes His way straight to the outcasts of
the world, the publicans and the harlots and
sinners, and to them He speaks of the mercy
and the love of God and the beauty of the
heavenly life; not to cast them into black
despair, not because it was impossible for
them to be good and to find God, but because
it was divinely possible. God was waiting for
them, and something in them was waiting for
God. They were lost. But surely they never
could have been lost unless they had first
of all belonged to God, and this made it
possible for them to be found again. They
were prodigals. But surely the prodigal is
also a child, and there is a place for him in
the Father's house. He may dwell among the
swine, but he is not one of them. He is capable
of remembering his Father's love. He is
capable of answering his Father's embrace.
He is capable of dwelling in his Father's
house in filial love and obedience.
This is the doctrine of Christ in regard to
fallen and disordered and guilty human
nature. It is fallen, it is disordered, it is
guilty; but the capacity of reconciliation, of
holiness, of love to God, still dwells in it,
and may be quickened into a new life. That
is God's work, but God Himself could not do
it if man were not capable of it.
Do you remember the story of the portrait
of Dante which is painted upon the walls of
Bargello, at Florence? For many years it
was supposed that the picture had utterly
perished. Men had heard of it, but no one
living had seen it. But presently came an
artist who was determined to find it again.
He went into the place where tradition said
that it had been painted. The room was used
as a storehouse for lumber and straw. The
walls were covered with dirty whitewash. He
had the heaps of rubbish carried away.
Patiently and carefully he removed the whitewash
from the wall. Lines and colors long
hidden began to appear; and at last the grave,
lofty, noble face of the poet looked out again
upon the world of light.
"That was wonderful," you say, "that was
beautiful!" Not half so wonderful as the
work which Christ came to do in the heart of
man—to restore the forgotten likeness of God
and bring the divine image to the light. He
comes to us with the knowledge that God's
image is there, tho concealed; He touches us
with the faith that the likeness can be restored.
To have upon our hearts the impress
of the divine nature, to know that there is no
human being in whom that treasure is not
hidden and from whose stained and dusty soul
Christ can not bring out that reflection of
God's face—that, indeed, is to know the meaning
of manhood, and to be sure that a man
is better than a sheep!
3. There is yet one more element in Christ's
teaching in regard to the meaning of manhood,
and that is His doctrine of immortality. This
truth springs inevitably out of His teaching in
regard to the origin and capacity of human
nature. A being formed in the divine image,
a being capable of reflecting the divine holiness,
is a being so lofty that he must have
also the capacity of entering into a life which
is spiritual and eternal, and which leads onward
to perfection. All that Christ teaches
about man, all that Christ offers to do for
man, opens before him a vast and boundless
future.
The idea of immortality runs through everything
that Jesus says and does. Never for a
moment does He speak to man as a creature
who is bound to this present world. Never
for a moment does He forget, or suffer us to
forget, that our largest and most precious
treasures may be laid up in the world to come.
He would arouse our souls to perceive and
contemplate the immense issues of life.
The perils that beset us here through sin
are not brief and momentary dangers, possibilities
of disgrace in the eyes of men, of
suffering such limited pain as our bodies can
endure in the disintegrating process of disease,
of dying a temporal death, which at the
worst can only cause us a few hours of anguish.
A man might bear these things, and take the
risk of this world's shame and sickness and
death, for the sake of some darling sin. But
the truth that flashes on us like lightning from
the word of Christ is that the consequence of
sin is the peril of losing our immortality.
"Fear not them which kill the body," said he,
"but are not able to kill the soul; but rather
fear him which is able to destroy both soul
and body in hell."
On the other hand, the opportunities that
come to us here through the grace of God are
not merely opportunities of temporal peace
and happiness. They are chances of securing
endless and immeasurable felicity, wealth
that can never be counted or lost, peace that
the world can neither give nor take away. We
must understand that now the kingdom of
God has come near unto us. It is a time
when the doors of heaven are open. We may
gain an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled,
and that fadeth not away. We may
lay hold not only on a present joy of holiness,
but on an everlasting life with God.
It is thus that Christ looks upon the children
of men: not as herds of dumb, driven
cattle, but as living souls moving onward to
eternity. It is thus that He dies for men:
not to deliver them from brief sorrows, but
to save them from final loss and to bring them
into bliss that knows no end. It is thus that
He speaks to us, in solemn words before which
our dreams of earthly pleasure and power
and fame and wealth are dissipated like unsubstantial
vapors: "What shall it profit a
man if he gain the whole world and lose his
own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange
for his soul?"
There never was a time in which Christ's
doctrine of the meaning of manhood was more
needed than it is to-day. There is no truth
more important and necessary for us to take
into our hearts, and hold fast, and carry out
in our lives. For here we stand in an age
when the very throng and pressure and superfluity
of human life lead us to set a low estimate
upon its value. The air we breathe is
heavy with materialism and commercialism.
The lowest and most debasing views of human
nature are freely proclaimed and unconsciously
accepted. There is no escape, no
safety for us, save in coming back to Christ
and learning from Him that man is the child
of God, made in the divine image, capable of
the divine fellowship, and destined to an immortal
life. I want to tell you just three of
the practical reasons why we must learn this.
(1) We need to learn it in order to understand
the real meaning, and guilt, and danger,
and hatefulness of sin.
Men are telling us nowadays that there is no
such thing as sin. It is a dream, a delusion.
It must be left out of account. All the evils
in the world are natural and inevitable. They
are simply the secretions of human nature.
There is no more shame or guilt connected
with them than with the malaria of the swamp
or the poison of the nightshade.
But Christ tells us that sin is real, and that
it is the enemy, the curse, the destroyer of
mankind. It is not a part of man as God
made him; it is a part of man as he has unmade
and degraded himself. It is the marring
of the divine image, the ruin of the glorious
temple, the self-mutilation and suicide of the
immortal soul. It is sin that casts man down
into the mire. It is sin that drags him from
the fellowship of God into the company of
beasts. It is sin that leads him into the far
country of famine, and leaves him among the
swine, and makes him fain to fill his belly
with the husks that the swine do eat. Therefore
we must hate sin, and fear it, and abhor
it, always and everywhere. When we look
into our own heart and find sin there, we must
humble ourselves before God and repent in
sackcloth and ashes. Every sin that whispers
in our heart is an echo of the world's despair
and misery. Every selfish desire that lies in
our soul is a seed of that which has brought
forth strife, and cruelty, and murder, and
horrible torture, and bloody war among the
children of men. Every lustful thought that
defiles our imagination is an image of that
which has begotten loathsome vices and crawling
shames throughout the world. My brother-men,
God hates sin because it ruins man. And
when we know what that means, when we feel
that same poison of evil within us, we must
hate sin as He does, and bow in penitence
before Him, crying, "God, be merciful to me
a sinner."
(2) We need to learn Christ's doctrine of
the meaning of manhood in order to help us to
love our fellow men.
This is a thing that is easy to profess, but
hard, bitterly hard, to do. The faults and
follies of human nature are apparent. The
unlovely and contemptible and offensive qualities
of many people thrust themselves sharply
upon our notice and repel us. We are tempted
to shrink back, wounded and disappointed,
and to relapse into a life that is governed by
disgusts. If we dwell in the atmosphere of a
Christless world, if we read only those newspapers
which chronicle the crimes and meannesses
of men, or those realistic novels which
deal with the secret vices and corruptions of
humanity, and fill our souls with the unspoken
conviction that virtue is an old-fashioned
dream, and that there is no man good, no
woman pure, I do not see how we can help
despising and hating mankind. Who shall
deliver us from this spirit of bitterness? Who
shall lead us out of this heavy, fetid air of
the lazar-house and the morgue?
None but Christ. If we will go with Him,
He will teach us not to hate our fellow men
for what they are, but to love them for what
they may become. He will teach us to look,
not for the evil which is manifest, but for the
good which is hidden. He will teach us not
to despair, but to hope, even for the most
degraded of mankind. And so, perchance, as
we keep company with Him, we shall learn
the secret of that divine charity which fills
the heart with peace and joy and quiet
strength. We shall learn to do good unto all
men as we have opportunity, not for the sake
of gratitude or reward, but because they are
the children of our Father and the brethren
of our Savior. We shall learn the meaning of
that blest death on Calvary, and be willing
to give ourselves as a sacrifice for others,
knowing that he that turneth a sinner from
the error of his ways shall save a soul from
death and cover a multitude of sins.
(3) Finally, we need to accept and believe
Christ's doctrine of the meaning of manhood
in order that it may lead us personally to God
and a higher life.
You are infinitely better and more precious
than the dumb beasts. You know it, you feel
it; you are conscious that you belong to another
world. And yet it may be that there are
times when you forget it and live as if there
was no God, no soul, no future life. Your
ambitions are fixt upon the wealth that corrodes,
the fame that fades. Your desires are
toward the pleasures that pall upon the senses.
You are bartering immortal treasure for the
things which perish in the using. You are
ignoring and despising the high meaning of
your manhood. Who shall remind you of it,
who shall bring you back to yourself, who
shall lift you up to the level of your true
being, unless it be the Teacher who spake as
never man spake, the Master who brought life
and immortality to light.
Come, then, to Christ, who can alone save
you from the sin that defiles and destroys
your manhood. Come, then, to Christ, who
alone can make you good men and true, living
in the power of an endless life. Come, then,
to Christ, that you may have fellowship with
Him and realize all it means to be a man.
END OF VOL. IX.
THE
HOUR-GLASS
STORIES
THE SANDALS
By Rev. Zelotes Grenell. A beautiful little idyl
of sacred story dealing with the sandals of Christ.
THE COURTSHIP OF SWEET
ANNE PAGE
By Ellen V. Talbot. A brisk little love story
incidental to "The Merry Wives of Windsor," full
of fun and frolic, and telling of the Courtship of
Sweet Anne Page by three rival lovers chosen by
her father, her mother, and herself.
THE TRANSFIGURATION OF
MISS PHILURA
By Florence Morse Kingsley. This clever story is
based on the theory that every physical need and every
desire of the human heart can be claimed and received
from the "Encircling Good" by the true believer.
THE HERR DOCTOR
By Robert MacDonald. A novelette of artistic
literary merit, narrating the varied experiences of
an American girl in her effort toward capturing a
titled husband.
ESARHADDON
By Count Leo Tolstoy. Three allegorical stories
illustrating Tolstoy's theories of non-resistance, and
the essential unity of all forms of life.
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THE CZAR'S GIFT
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was obtained for an exiled brother.
THE EMANCIPATION OF
MISS SUSANA
An entrancing love story that ends in a most
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THE OLD DARNMAN
By Charles L. Goodell, D.D. A character known
to many a New England boy and girl, in which the
"lost bride" is the occasion for a lifelong search
from door to door.
BALM IN GILEAD
By Florence Morse Kingsley. A very touching
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tender years, and her search for comfort, which she
finds at last in her husband's loyal Christian faith.
MISERERE
By Mabel Wagnalls. The romantic story of a
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PARSIFAL
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Wives! Husbands! Sweethearts!
Dr. Talmage
... IN ...
The Marriage Ring
TELLS ALL ABOUT
| The Choice of a Wife | Costume and Morals |
| Choice of a Husband | Plain Talk |
| Clandestine Marriages | Easy Divorce |
| Duties of Husbands to | Motherhood |
| Wives | Heredity |
| Duties of Wives to | Paradisaic Women |
| Husbands | Influence of Sisters over Brothers |
| Boarding-house and | Martyrs of the Kitchen |
| Hotel Life vs. The Home | The Old Folks' Visit. |
"It is a wholesome book. It will
carry a benediction into thousands of
domestic circles."—Zion's Herald,
Boston.
"Thoroughly Christian and commonsense."—Free
Methodist, Chicago.
"We recommend it as 'good gift' to the married
and those about to marry."—Demorest's Magazine,
New York.
————
Beautifully Bound—A Handsome Gift Book.
Price, $1.00, Post-free.
————
FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, Publishers,
NEW YORK and LONDON
Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as printed.
Missing page numbers are page numbers that were not shown in the original text.
Mismatched quotes are not fixed if it's not sufficiently clear where the missing quote should be placed.
Page 125: "standing on the basis of the hormonious testimony" ... The transcriber has replaced "hormonious" with "harmonious".
