KELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION BY GRAHAM TAYLOR WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY JANE ADDAMS NEW YORK DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 1913 COPYRIGHT, 1913, BT DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY Published October, 1913 I Jf amtlp EACH ONE CONTRIBUTING TO AND SHARING IN LIFE'S WHOLE ENDEAVOUR 359390 FOREWORD BOTH the course of thought and the con- clusions that follow are the outgrowth of experience. They grew from the ground up. They bear the earth-flavours of each field of endeavour rural, pastoral and professorial, civic. Wherein the conclusions differ from whatever prompted the course of action which led to them, the difference is due to the trend of the times. Conservative ante- cedents and training laid upon heart and con- science the burden of the soul. The soul grew into the whole self. The self took on what- ever shaped it in the push from behind and the thrust from about. Then, to apply the simple Gospel to the saving of the soul was to extend and apply the common faith to the social conditions of the common life. This was a reordination to ministry, a rededica- tion of the Church. Evangelism became no less personal for being more social. Condi- vii FOREWORD tions needed to be evangelised, so as to be- come at least compatible with, and not de- structive of, the Christian ideals and stand- ards of life. Thus the community became both field and force for the Church. The city became the laboratory for the classroom. Civics came to share with pastoral sociology, and laymen and women with students for the ministry, efforts to teach and train. Social settlement residence seemed naturally the next step to the furtherance of this purpose, the best view-point and vantage whence to fulfil it. To fraternise the conditions of life and la- bour, to Christianise the framework and spirit of the community, and to humanise re- ligion for the promotion of these ends, be- came the Holy Grail. This quest of it was first traced for The Survey. It is now given more permanent form in the hope of helping to realise the democracy of religion and the religion of democracy. CHICAGO COMMONS, September. 1913. viii CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE FOREWORD . . . . . . vii INTRODUCTION xi I LIFE AND RELIGION .... 1 II THE HUMAN POINT OF VIEW . . 19 III PERSONALITY A SOCIAL PRODUCT AND FORCE 31 IV THE CALL AND EQUIPMENT FOR EF- FECTIVE SERVICE . . . 58 V CHANGING CONDITIONS OF A WORK- ING FAITH 80 VI THE RELIGION OF HUMAN RELATION- SHIPS 105 VII THE FAMILY: FIELD, FUNCTION, AND TRIBUTARY AGENCIES . . . 120 VIII SURVIVAL AND REVIVAL OF NEIGH- BOURSHIP 140 IX INDUSTRY AND RELIGION : THEIR COM- MON GROUND AND INTERDEPEND- ENCE . 167 CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE X ORGANISED INDUSTRY AND ORGANISED RELIGION 191 XI CITY AND CHURCH RE-APPROACHING EACH OTHER 211 XII CHURCH AND COMMUNITY THEIR INTERRELATION AND COMMON AIM 228 EEFERENCES 259 INTRODUCTION BY JANE ADDAMS THIS series of papers, now appearing in book form, embodies an able and conscientious at- tempt to state the actual relation existing between organised religion and social ameli- oration. The author, Graham Taylor, has for many years been both a clergyman teaching in a theological school and a citizen actively iden- tified with advanced movements making for political and social reform. He sees the need of more religion in all departments of life, and he longs for the help of the churches in the various efforts for social amelioration which are now too often being carried on without their leadership and sometimes with- out their active participation. In his careful analysis of our varied hu- xi INTRODUCTION man relationships in the family, in the neighbourhood, in industry, in the city and of the changes they are undergoing through the sheer pressure upon them of modern eco- nomic conditions, Dr. Taylor draws from a wide and varied experience in socialised ac- tion. In the light of such daily living we may perhaps claim for the ideas he sets forth in this book that they are " true," in the definition of Professor James, in that they have been " assimilated, validated, corrob- orated, and verified in experience. ' 9 Throughout these chapters it is as though Dr.JTaylor saw t.frpt grid waaton of rnnrlorn life being slowtyjiooded by an incoming tide of religion which will in time irresistibly bear away many impediments now blocking the path of social progress. The reader shares the consciousness that these beneficent waters are rising in response to one of those world forces which inevitably draw men's wills into one effective current. Dr. Taylor was among the first men to in- xii INTRODUCTION troduce a systematic study of sociology into a theologicalinstitution, at Chif.a^o Thpn- logical Seminary. Therefore, from the stand- point of a student of social history, fa- miliar with the development of organised religions, he knows that the religious syn- thesis, or rather the competing religious syn- theses, are constantly changing and differ- entiating themselves in response to special needs ; that such adaptations in organised re- ligion are evolved not only because new needs confront the Church from without, but also because there is a vigorous minority within the Church whom the existing forms of ex- pression no longer satisfy. It is as a mem- ber of this inner group that Dr. Taylor has written the following pages in which he di- rectly and fearlessly points out the adapta- tion going on in the Church at the present moment and the need for further changes. Because the desire for just human rela- tionships has seized upon the imaginations of a multitude of our contemporaries, it is xiii INTRODUCTION possible that a group within the Church is now demanding that a new form of social action shall express their yearning sense of justice and compassion, quite as the school- men once insisted that creeds and dogmas should embody their philosophy, or the art- ists that their absorbing desire for beauty should be built into cathedrals and painted upon the walls of shrines. This thirst for beauty and order in human relationships may seize upon the religious spirits of our time as the desire for personal holiness and for unbroken communion with God, in another period of history, drove thousands of men to spend their lives in hermitage or mon- astery. Certainly a distress of spirit for social wrongs, " the burden of souls," as Dr. Tay- lor calls it, expresses itself in many ways, as the most casual observer may see. Many a young person whose attention is fixed and whose emotions are absorbed by the vast and stupid atrocities of contemporary life its xiv INTRODUCTION aimless waste, its meaningless labour, its needless suffering finds his only relief from the abiding horror over the existence of such things in the heated conviction that they are not inevitable. He expresses himself in such well-worn phrases as " there must be some way out," " such a state of things was never intended," " human nature can no longer tolerate it." To some of these young people the Church with its chance of miracle, as it were, its divine help, its faith so invincible and so in- calculable, offers itself as a refuge against unaided human effort and against the sci- entific estimate of the slow pace of social amelioration. It is said that human crea- tures, almost as much as they require light and bodily warmth, need the sense that others are thinking and feeling like themselves. It is obviously true that " the other poor little brethren gathered with us under the Ma- donna cloak keep us warm quite as much as the great mantle itself." . Keligion has al- xv INTRODUCTION ways provided for deep-seated wants which mortals themselves cannot satisfy, and has ever comforted man for his own insuffi- ciencies. Doubtless there has always been a small number of persons who came into the Church because they found that they could not climb the steep and thorny road pointed out by life's noblest teachers, because they were discouraged with their own best con- scious activities, quite as a multitude of those affrighted by the wrongs and injustices abroad in the world have throughout the ages come into the Church for shelter. Many of these young people, turning to organised religion as it is found in their own communities, hoping to find both simplifica- tion of motives and an assurance of guidance, are bitterly disappointed. The desire to re- lieve, at one and the same time a personal compunction and to utilise forms of social- ised activity to which they have been trained in college and elsewhere is seldom gratified. The poignant sense of social wrong is all too xvi INTRODUCTION seldom mentioned in the Church, often not assuaged, and they receive no suggestions nor directions for effective action. This is the more remarkable in that, of the two leading religions in America, Judaism has always up- held the ideals of social justice, its great prophets and great teachers from the begin- ning having urged the redemption of the en- tire nation and having considered individuals pious or impious as they aided or retarded this consummation: in the Christian Church such religious expression in social action would be the one thing able to unite the ex- treme individualism taught by the evangelical churches with that concerted action which is only possible when a central authority is ac- knowledged. Such expression would be a veritable social growth, based upon the agree- ments of experience and verified by the cur- rent events in which all participate. Without it, at this moment it is difficult to see how religion can adequately perform its tradi- tional function in the world. xvii INTRODUCTION A popular novel has recently asserted that the Christian Church has no right to test the \ fitness of men for its communion by their be- lief or non-belief in a set of creeds which were written and adopted by scholarly ec- clesiastics who directed the Church during the least spiritual period of her history. If, as this widely read book contends, the leader- ship of the Church depends upon her ability , to guide and enlighten men in the complexi- ties and contradictions of modern life, then the test of the communicant should be his willingness to bear a man's share in the self- sacrificing labour involved in this period of maladjustment in which we find our- selves. By this test no man has a better right to speak for the Church than the author of this book, although this is by no means his only qualification. No one can be really useful in the long and delicate task of social adapta- tion unless in addition to the unresting desire for universal justice he is informed on the xviii INTRODUCTION economic situation and the changes being urged by various bodies of people. As a sympathetic student of social move- ments, understanding the larger hopes of men, in the early years at Chicago Commons Dr. Taylor every week presided over a ' ' free- floor " discussion where men of all social faiths were made welcome. Chicago was at that time characterised by a challenging dis- cussion of the existing social order. Each school of social philosophy preached not so much its own remedies as the necessity of clearing away much of the present industrial organisation before any remedies could be ap- plied, or rather before social reconstruction could begin. Even among the socialists there were many radicals of more zeal than learn- ing, who felt that the end of the competitive system was approaching and urged a moral- ity such as could be applied only to a world on the brink of destruction. These ardent speakers, therefore, distrusted all tendencies towards social improvements and denounced xix INTRODUCTION any compromise on the part of socialists with the existing state. They looked askance at any accommodating spirit evinced by a cap- italistic society, and at the growing humani- tarianism of an enfeebled bourgeoisie. Above all they disliked the theory of the common interest of labour and capital for which the social settlement stood, as well as the gradual interpenetration of the two classes. In spite of these radical differences, Dr. Taylor held the respect of these men of vari- ous social beliefs, shall we say, because of his religious faith in the unity and solidarity of mankind. He judged them righteously and generously, not as disturbers of the peace, but as men who like himself were concerned that the knowledge of economic forces should be intelligently applied to the progress of society. He did not despise half-baked the- ories, because as a student of economic his- tory, he was familiar with the fact that each distinct historical epoch begins with striking economic changes which society joyfully xx INTRODUCTION hails as indubitable signs of progress, but that soon after the more sensitive men of the epoch begin a long struggle to make the social readjustments, and that at last the epoch ends with more or less reorganisation. As he points out in his chapter on i ' Indus- trial Relations," the abrupt changes in the early years of the nineteenth century brought about untold distress, overcrowding in towns and mills, long working hours, child labour, and all the rest of the dreary list with which we are so familiar. In the first rush for increased prosperity no one was concerned to refit social conditions to the striking eco- nomic changes. And yet the epoch thus in- troduced must go through a long period of slow readjustment before society can work out a fitting reorganisation, the outlines of which are now but vaguely apprehended. In this middle period of readjustment in which our generation finds itself, many peo- ple, conscious of the social misery and con- vinced that much of it is unnecessary, have xxi INTRODUCTION been brought to a state of mind scarcely to be endured. Although knowledge of social development gave Dr. Taylor patience with those driven to rebellion, yet his own tem- perament and training place him in the list of those of the social reformers who believe in a gradual modification of society. Here, once more, he presents " fruits for life," or to use a more familiar phrase, he justifies his faith by long and arduous works. This may be illustrated from only a few of the public and quasi-public commissions with which he has been identified during these later years, whose findings have changed public opinion and have resulted in remedial legislation. As a member of the well-known Chicago Vice Commission, he became con- versant with the breakdown of moral fibre which so easily takes place where a large city offers concealment for illicit relations, and where many young people grow accustomed to consider the pursuit of pleasure a legiti- mate occupation. He vividly realised that im- xxii INTRODUCTION plicit in city conditions is the grave danger resulting from the withdrawal of social con- trol at the very time the inner restraints of religion are confessedly less compelling. The Commission made a large number of pains- taking recommendations for immediate ac- tion, but always considered the final goal to be the absolute abolition of commercialised vice a drastic conclusion, founded not upon vague ideals of human conduct but upon a careful study of human nature as it reacted to every possible temptation a great city could provide. He also served on the Illinois state com- missions which secured effective legislation to protect the workers from dangerous ma- chinery and insanitary conditions, and to safeguard life and property from loss in the mines. These laws led the way to determine the employer's liability for industrial acci- dents and diseases, but the recommendation to divide with the employer and the state the burdens of these disasters, which were hith- xxiii INTRODUCTION erto borne by the worker alone, could not have been so willingly received by the very people to whom it meant an increased expenditure of money, unless the public mind had been previously aroused to that renewed apprecia- tion of the value and dignity of human life which is said to characterise all moments of spiritual awakening. In the matter of municipal reform, Dr. Taylor has been actively identified with the Municipal Voters' League of Chicago, one of the pioneer organisations in America, to purify once corrupt city councils by arousing public sentiment against evil practices which had been unchallenged for so many years that they had been accepted as inevitable. That Chicago demands not only honest aldermen but those devoted to the higher interests of the city, is due to the fearless men who first recognised and fostered a changing concep- tion of public duty and insisted that the ideals of Democracy are still operative in America. Dr. Taylor has lived for twenty years at xxiv INTRODUCTION Chicago Commons, the social settlement which he himself founded in one of those shifting city districts to which people of a score of nationalities are drawn from all parts of the world in response to industrial opportunities in factories and shops that too often exploit them but seldom unite them. That political reforms were inaugurated in his own ward, that the community was rallied to strenuous endeavour, could have been ac- complished only through an appeal to those profounder spiritual experiences which, transcending all differences of creed and ritual, are at the foundations of every re- ligious faith. "Itrequires an unfaltering courage to act year after year upon the belief that the hoary abominations of society can only be done away with through " the steady impinging offact'oiffact, of interest on interest, and of will on will." It requires skill as well as loving kindness to be able to say this to an ardent young person so that the statement, XXV INTRODUCTION even although it contains the implication that these hideous conditions will at last be changed, shall not come as a dash of cold water to his ardent hopes. It requires tact and training to make it clear that because each one of us can do so little in the great task~bi' regenerating society it is therefore more necessary that each_shoul4_dedicate his pmyera nnH ndH hiq inHiviHnnl will fn fy un- dertaking. For several years Dr. Taylor performed this service for college women and others who met with him at Chicago Commons for con- ferences. It was as a logical outcome from this and in response to a community need that he founded the now well-known Chicago School of Civics and Philanthropy. He saw the necessity for trained workers in every field of social endeavour. Where ameliora- tion comes through legislation, informed and trained people are needed not only to help secure it but to interpret and enforce the new laws. So long as the social needs, while xxvi INTRODUCTION glaring and obvious, are still such as can be supplied only by volunteer groups who must experiment and make good before the state can either realise the situation or attempt a remedy, there is need of trained social work- ers for philanthropy. For the teaching of these two groups, and a third, of college men and women trained in the methods of social research, the School has gathered together a faculty and staff of lecturers, many of them distinguished in their own lines of work, who are loyally devoted to the president and founder of the School, and are convinced that the School is rendering a patriotic service not only to the city but to the nation as well. Dr. Taylor has come to be regarded as an " expert " adviser in the best sense of the term. His long familiarity with the men who are " down and out," both the vagrant and the convict, has enabled him to give advice of great practical value in their institutional care, in the founding of a Municipal Lodging House in Chicago, in the abolition of the xxvii INTRODUCTION segregated district, in the establishment of the Morals Court, and in many another reform. With other worried and harried social workers who found themselves giving much time to public speaking and to pamphleteer- ing because they felt impelled to share their knowledge with the community at large, real- ising that the community alone could bring about needed reforms, Dr. Taylor for years has given much time to public speaking. He constantly preached " the Christianising of the social order " from orthodox pulpits, he roused young men to a sense of social re- sponsibility through series of lectures at lead- ing universities and colleges, he spoke before summer gatherings, before Y. M. C. A. audi- ences, and wherever he was constantly sum- moned by people eager for help in under- standing the collective morality. When the social workers, each with his store of fermenting knowledge, met from year to year in annual conference, they found that xxviii INTRODUCTION they tended more and more to discuss the economic conditions underlying the poverty, disease, and overwork which they were seek- ing to ameliorate. The discussion of the sources of the low standards of living, of the protection of the worker from the risks of industry, grew in interest at each meeting of the National Conference of Charities and Cor- rection. That Dr. Taylor was elected presi- dent of that imposing national body for this year was a recognition both of his personal achievements and of his sympathy with the newer developments in philanthropy. While many members of the Conference were content with a mere general statement of the relation between unregulated industry and poverty, Dr. Taylor was closely identified with a small group who felt that the time had come for a more definite indictment. The members of this group were convinced that some of the worst conditions which de- pressed whole communities of working people and kept a promising generation of youth xxix INTRODUCTION from following its better impulses, were lo- calised and definite, and although these spots of glaring economic wrong might be excep- tional, their very existence implied many others only less sensationally wretched. In their previous efforts to arouse an indifferent public, the social workers had eagerly wel- comed the help which had come from the so- called " muck-raking " of certain magazines and even of the exaggerated tales printed in the daily press, the authoritative statements of those economists who in increasing num- bers felt the responsibility for public wrongs, and the cumulative results of the govern- mental investigations into industrial con- ditions. For, while all of these were neces- sarily national in scope, so that each com- munity found it easy to shift responsibility for that which was so widespread, there was, however, gradually brought about a growing conviction that industrial conditions could be bettered. In order to provide definite information in XXX INTRODUCTION the early days of the settlement, Dr. Taylor had edited a small paper entitled " The Com- mons, " in which he gathered data of current efforts of social reform with sugges- tions to those in industrial and civic strug- gles, and in social and church work. Later this publication was merged with " Chari- ties, " a paper performing a similar service in New York, and the two have since devel- oped into The Survey, a journal which not only reports constructive philanthropy and industrial and civic undertakings, but points out to its readers the gaps and failures in the social structure. It was through The Survey that it was first made clear that, / with the help of a small number of persons/., trained to careful economic investigation, the thorough study of one community might fix the responsibility where it could not be avoided. The local investigation, isolating the conditions from the rest of the country in such wise as to make them appear ab- normal, pointed out the wretched results of * xxxi INTRODUCTION such conditions in the community itself. The lack of protection against industrial accidents in a huge steel plant had meant injuring so many men among the employes during the year; the insanitary housing in a given city ward had caused an abnormally high death- rate among the babies of that ward, and many another conclusion from which it was difficult to escape. When such investigation was ac- companied by a picture of normal industrial conditions, vividly portrayed as they existed elsewhere, and was followed by an appeal to civic patriotism, in many instances an en- thusiasm for better things was evoked and even a spiritual unrest. But while the conviction of sin could thus be made through an objective and economic investigation, the regeneration which was supposed to follow must of course depend upon spiritual forces. The necessity of fol- lowing each such presentation of special civic needs by a revival of religion in that particular city is to put it baldly, but some xxxii INTRODUCTION such plan was finally evolved in the effort to match the will power of the community to its knowledge, " to marshal the moral forces capable of breaking what must be broken and of building what must be built. " It was at once evident as soon as the results of an in- vestigation and the methods of relief were published in the daily papers, that even the most obvious social reforms require practical means for their realisation with the inevita- ble committees. It seemed possible to accom- plish both the spiritual awakening and the organisation through The Men and Eeligion Forward Movement. Its leaders were de- termined to win the men of the country back to religion by meeting the distinctively mas- culine interests, and from the beginning it was plain that it was the social obligations of religion which rallied the audiences and brought men under conviction of dereliction. It was evident that the force to be applied to social reforms was what Mazzini called " religious sentiment, " that to which he so xxxiii INTRODUCTION confidently appealed for the remaking of Italy; " from it," he declared, " flow strength and constancy in the struggle for great principles, indifference to danger, noble resignation in persecution. " Of course such an attempt to connect religious enthusiasm with civic and economic needs implied the full co-operation of the clergy, and that there was a generous response in so many cities indicated perhaps how ready they were to meet the challenge. For the encouragement of these eager young men one may be permitted perhaps to quote from that great republican priest, Lammenais: " There is no power on earth that surpasses or equals that of the clergy when they are imbued with the genius of a nation and guide it faithfully in its natural progress according to the laws that direct the procession of its life. But if by error, or from interest, they set themselves in op- position to those eternal laws, if they attempt to hold the people in a state which it knows xxxiv INTRODUCTION to be not good and so to block the road to the future, their words excite mistrust and their living force is spent. " Dr. Taylor published in The Survey the material for this book as his contribu- tion to The Men and Religion Forward Move- ment at the very time many cities them- selves were beginning to ask for surveys of their own conditions, willingly bearing the ex- pense involved, as though they were insist- ing upon a social expression for their reli- gious sentiment and were asking to have the road laid out. This book will doubtless be of value to men and women of all faiths who are eager that the current of their religion should pour itself into broader channels of social purpose. HULL HOUSE, September, 1913. XXXV RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION CHAPTER I LIFE AND BELIGION LIFE and religion are alike. They were meant and made to be one and the same. A human life consists in largest part of its relations with other lives. There is no * * self- made man." If any of us could be put in a chemist's retort, and by some strange al- chemy everything were extracted from him that mother and father, brother and sister, playmate and schoolmate, teacher and work- fellow, wife and child, pastor and partner, author and speaker, the world's literature and the life of his own day and generation have put into him, who would dare to look at himself in the glass? Could any one rec- ognise himself? Every one of us would be nothing less than a blasphemy of his former self. For each and all the capacities and 1 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION powers which constitute selfhood and come closest to being himself, the individual is de- pendent upon and indebted to others. Every " human life is a social product, produced by the co-operation of many other lives. Every one of us who is honest must put down on the credit side of life's ledger all others who have invested any part of their lives in him, and, with Paul, write himself down, " I am debtor. " t \ Eeligion, like life, is relationship. No other word is so interchangeable with it. It is the ideal of what the relation of the one man should be to the one God and to every other man. The religion both of Judaism and Chris- tianity consists of their founders' ideal of the relation of man to God as Father and man to man as brother which is being progressively experienced by the individ- ual and gradually fulfilled in the life of the community and the history of the race. 2 LIFE AND RELIGION The Bible is the story of the way in which these relationships were realised, Godward and manward, in the personal experiences of typical individuals and in the history of selected family, national, and racial groups. It is the book of lives and therefore the Book of Life. It gives life through lives. It is biography and history, the life-story of God and man. The book of Genesis is Abraham's life put to press between the times of Ur of the Chaldees and the eternity of the Lord God Almighty, whose friend he was, with whom he walked and talked. In Exodus we see the patriarchal households becoming the people of Israel, the " kingdom of priests," as Moses' life emerges from the age of the Pharaohs into Jehovah's leadership. In great succession the books of the Old Testa- ment and the New bear the sign manual, if not the names, of the men and women through whose lives they were produced. They have the earth-flavors of every land from which they sprung at the touch of life 3 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION from God's skies upon the soil of man's earth. Leaves of life God's life in man consti- tute the sacred literature. Human lives are the letters, the characters, the very types in which the Word is written. Men, women, and children ; families and tribes ; neighbour- hoods and fellowships ; nations, peoples, and races live, move, and have their being in this Book of books, par excellence the Book of Life. In form and substance the Scriptures of both Testaments are biography and genealogy, history and experience, folk lore and personal epistles, songs and sighs of the soul and of peoples. These are the warp and woof in which the Spirit weaves the pattern of the religious life upon the inspired word. David and the psalmists of Israel, and the singers of the Advent, wrought into music the divine psychology of the human soul. And in their songs they rise to the heights of man's aspiration and sink to the depths of his sin and despair. The seers are the inter- 4 LIFE AND RELIGION preters of God to the people and of the peo- ple to themselves. Their prophecy is the interpretation of history. Their history is the spirit of prophecy. Their religion was statesmanship. And their statesmanship was so true to their own times that it applies to all times. The Gospels are memoirs of evangelists, memoranda of what they saw and heard of Jesus, and of what they told others about him. The first and greatest theologian of the Church was its first and greatest mis- sionary. It was in the heat and by the power of his passion to win men's souls that Paul wrought the facts of his own experience with God and men into the formulated truth of the epistles, for the teaching of those whom he had evangelised. Thus faith is identified with life throughout the Scriptures. But none of its seers or singers emphasises this fact more than St. John, whose name seals the document with which the volume of the sacred book is closed. He never reduces 5 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION truth to an abstract faith. Faith to him is always believing, always the verb of action, always the doing of the truth. He declares " the life, the eternal life, . . . which we have beheld, and our hands handled. " And the final glimpse which this last survivor of the apostles caught of Christianity trium- phant was not in another world, but in this one; not of a Church, but of a " Holy City "; not of a mere multitude of saved souls, but of the " nations of them which are saved," organised into a saved human society, in which " the tabernacle of God is with men and he will dwell with them and they shall be his people and God himself shall be with them and be their God." Far more than belief, the religious life in- spired by the Old Testament and the New has been always and everywhere the same. The lives growing out of the doctrine, more than the forms of the doctrine out of which they grow, stand the historic test of catho- licity, "semper ubique." Beliefs change, 6 LIFE AND RELIGION vary, shift their emphasis. But the godly life, like God himself, remains the same. It is the Messianic life that links the Old Testa- ment to the New. It is Christian living which identifies contemporary experience with primitive Christianity. The common denominator of all the sects is the real religious life being lived by their mem- bers. Dr. Austin Phelps, the great professor at Andover Seminary, thus accounts for the Bible: " Divine communications to the world have always been made through the medium of real life. Living men live a great truth, and so truth comes to the birth. The Bible is almost wholly history and biogra- phy. Abstract knowledge is given in it only as interwoven with the wants and experi- ences of once living generations. God took out of the circle of universal history a single segment, and the result is a revelation. Men live under special divine superintendence and illumination, and the product is a 7 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION Bible. So all the great truths which have moved the world have been lived. They have been struck out by collision of thought with the living necessities of the world." . The whole great field for human service and religious work is a primary source of information and inspiration. If the Scrip- tures contain the spring whence the head- waters flow, the field marks the channel through which the river of life streams forth into all the world. If the divine Word con- tains the incentive and marching orders for the work, the work with the Word is its con- temporaneous expositor. We " know the doctrine " only as we "do the truth." When the believer or the Church has had no use for the faith, it has been of no use to either " without works dead." The marching or- ders of the Church are like the sealed orders to the navy which are to be opened, read, and obeyed when at sea. Nature is foundation for the supernatural. The natural instincts of men are the ground- 8 LIFE AND RELIGION work for the superstructure of faith. From self-consciousness we rise to God-conscious- ness. And the consciousness of God rounds out and perfects our true self -consciousness, in relation to the selfhood of God and fellow- men. The instinct of reverence is the basis upon which are built the spirit and forms of worship. From the innate sense of account- ability are developed the conviction of sin and repentance toward God. Faith is founded upon the universal experience of de- pendence, from infancy to old age, from birth to death. The yearning for fellowship, in the loneliness of the human soul, leads up directly to communion with the Father of our spirits and to the " communion of saints. " Even those who think, as Kingdon Clifford thought, that " science has taken God to the confines of the universe and bidden him a respectful adieu, " seldom fail to feel his " sense of utter loneliness at the loss of one's cradle faith "in the thought that " the Great Companion is dead." Black old " So- 9 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION journer Truth " reinspired the faith and courage of Frederick Douglass in the strug- gle for the freedom of the slave by rising in the audience after he had struck a note of despair and asking, " Frederick, is God dead? " Thus all human experience verifies the fact to which St. Augustine gave currency in the coin current of the realm, ' ' Thou hast made us for thyself, and our souls are ever restless until they rest in thee." So we must look in human nature for the counterpart of the divine ideal of man. For something of that ideal is written on the hearts of men as truly as upon the sacred page. In seeing that the world's great heart, and every human life that shares the pulsations of the race, are as truly made for essential religion as re- ligion is made to fit and form the life of every human being, we discover the most convincing evidence of religious faith. In claiming that being religious is nothing less, and yet can be nothing more, than making 10 LIFE AND RELIGION the most of ourselves and doing the best by others, and so becoming what we were meant and made to be, by the best help from Father God and brother men, we are laying the most natural basis for the appeal of the "like com- mon faith." The whole world of man's life rolls through the Scriptures. Having the range of its area, one moves in a larger sphere than his own life-contacts or any one age of earth's history will open to him. The world revealed there is larger than the earth can be to any one at any time or place. One meets there all kinds of men, types of char- acter, and conditions of life with which he comes in personal contact, and many more. In its heavenward and earthward reach, the Bible-visioned life " lives eternal life in time," as Harnack says. But even this does not compensate the re- ligious worker for the lack of personal con- tact with fellow men. To know men only as seen in Bible characters and conditions is no 11 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION x substitute for knowing our own neighbours and our own times. For the men and women of the Bible are there as types and interpret- ers of our contemporaries, not as substitutes for them. They cannot render us the serv- ice for which they have their being in the letter unless we let them lead us out into life. And yet the fact that so many of those who have deprived themselves, or have been de- prived, of these life-contacts have, in spite of this fact, not because of it, been able to understand and help their fellow men, so con- spicuously as religious biography has shown them to have done, proves the Scriptures to be a very real source for the study of human nature. Nothing else accounts for the suc- cess of these secluded lives, lived within such limited areas, and restricted to such remote knowledge of practical affairs. But far more effective would these merely Bible- taught men and women have been if they had known more of the world, and had been able with dear old John Bunyan to say, in the LIFE AND RELIGION words of his prologue to the Pilgrim's Prog- ress: " then come hither And lay thy head, thy heart, my book together. " Through all their history and biography the Scriptures guide us to the very orig- inators and founders of the ministries com- mitted to ourselves. We stand at the birth- place and hour of their life and power, within the laboratory of their inmost souls where their experiences crystallised into their mag- nificent conceptions, by the forge and anvil of their trials and toils where were wrought the tools and implements of their achieve- ments. Now watch for the coming of the impulse they receive! To many of them its coming is described by the phrase which forms the preface to most of their deeds and to some of their lives, " And the word of the Lord came." This impulse to work " came " to prompt Abraham's emigrant-faith and pilgrimage to the fatherland (Gen. xii. 1; xv. 13 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION 1, 4); Joshua's self-conquest for the con- quering of Canaan (Josh. i. 1, 7-9) ; Sam- uel's childlike soul to be the father of the prophets (1 Sam. iii. 1-3, 21; iv. 1) ; Elijah's lion-heart for every turn in his mighty career (1 Kings xvii. 1-5, 9; xviii. 1, 31, 36; xix. 9; xxi. 17, 28; 2 Kings ii. 2-6) ; Isaiah's humble mind to " send" him to sing the oratorio of the Messiah (Isaiah vi. 8) ; Jeremiah's fal- tering faith to set him to " pluck up and to break down and to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant " (Jer. i. 2, 4, 19) ; the courage of all the heroes of faith enshrined in Hebrews, eleventh chapter, that Westmin- ster Abbey of Scripture. Thus also through the New Testament and church history, Christian biography might be scanned to see how the Word " came " to the great world-workers. It came on the wings of a mother's prayer to Augustine calling him from the life of a renegade to become the greatest of the Church Fathers. It came to Francis of Assisi and made LIFE AND RELIGION him every one's hero-saint, to Xavier and gave him the glow of heart and tongue of flame which lit up so much of the world. It " came " to the monk Mar- tin before he became the world's Luther, and to the Wesleys, prompting their evangel of persuasive song and speech. It came to a Coleridge and thus made the Bible divine to him because it ' ' found ' ' him. At the knee of his motherly nurse it came to a Shaftes- bury and shaped him in the philanthropic mould of Christian manhood and statesman- ship, which the hardship of his early school- ing and the subsequent influence of political life could neither disfigure nor destroy. In- spiration inspires or loses its claim to be in- spired. A commission and credential for human service are issued both by the Old Testament and the New, to each and all who meet the re- quirements for work. The ideal of the one is " a kingdom of priests, a holy nation " (Exodus xix. 16), and of the other " a royal 15 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God's own possession " (1 Peter ii. 9, 10). The ministering membership is the only recog- nised constituency of the churches of both Testaments. There must be a whole world of work if there is to be a whole kingdom of workers, a whole people of priests commissioned to do it. And there is. For the extent and diversity of the field are as great as and even greater than the number and aptitudes of x the workers. Opportunities for service always exceed the trained capacities to ren- der it. To the call of God and the demands of this world field, the Church itself and the larger fellowship of human service are the response. All that men need them to be, God meant his churches to be. There are as many kinds of work to be done as there are kinds of people and diversities of human nature to do them. "To each one his work." One need not choose nor refuse an- other's work. " Every man is a once spoken 16 LIFE AND RELIGION word." There are few men and women whom God cares to repeat. It required the "" gospels of four evangelists to speak the Gos- pel of that one great Christ-life. There are diversities of gifts and workings, but the same spirit. The ministering body " has not one member but many," and the many members of that one body are warned that " the eye cannot say to the hand, I have no need of thee; or again, the head to the feet, I have no need of you. Nay, much rather those mem- bers of the body which seem to be more feeble, are necessary." So far from per- mitting any fellow Christian to think that he is ' l not of the body, ' ' St. Paul neither allows that the working body can do without the service of every one of its members nor ad- mits that any member can really share the life of the body if he does not do his own work for and with it. " God tempered the body together, giving more abundant honour to that part which lacked; that there should be no schism in the body; but that the mem- 17 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION bers should have the same care one for an- other. " As each of the returned exiles was expected to rebuild the walls of Zion ' ' over against his own house/* so the apostolic com- mission is " now, ye are the body of Christ and members each in his part." Life and religion are thus seen to be coun- terparts of each other, according to the account which the Bible gives us of both, and according to our own experience of each. Human lives, singly and together, and far more together than singly, are thus shown to be both the field and force for the work of religion. 18 CHAPTER II THE HUMAN POINT OF VIEW OLD John Bunyan describes each indi- vidual life as " the citadel of man-soul." He thus speaks as though each human being is a field for the conquest of religion and a force with which it is to win its way in all the world. From the human point of view, the religious spirit may best be seen on its way into the citadel to save, and on its way out to serve. Two simple stories drawn from close human experience will point both ways. A baby lay dead. Over its little form hov-' ered the grief-calmed mother and the sor- row-distracted father. " I told him," she said, " that he is too good a man for his job." " What is it? " was asked. 19 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION " Well, I am a gambler," the man replied. 11 But I hate the thing, the place, and those who frequent it, and I wish I need never go near it again." " If you do," he was warned, " you go from the light you now love into the darkness you dread, with your eyes wide open." " I'll see," he said, and lapsed into silence. Then followed the baby's funeral. A few days after the father stood pitifully alone on the threshold of his new life. So lonesome was he that he carried in person a letter which he had addressed and stamped to mail. For he thought that if he came with it, it might open to his empty heart some- thing of human fellowship for which he hun- gered. And it did, as such a letter could hardly fail to reach the heart of anybody who had one : 11 SIR AND FRIEND: 11 I have determined not to go back into the old business, come what will. But you must know that 20 THE HUMAN POINT OF VIEW I have great anxiety for the future. I trust that there will be an opening so that my wife and child will not starve. I do not know that I am under any special conviction of sin, but I do long to associate with good and Christian men and women. I am starved for that association. If I could have it, I believe I could soon be willing to leave all to God. You can hardly imagine the darkness, almost despair, that at times I have been in. But for years I had no one to talk with, as I now do with you, and I have had to bear all, alone, without human help. Words cannot tell you how I long to be out from all low and wrong associations. They none of them have any pleasure for me and I do not believe that I shall be compelled to have any more of them. " With loving respect, Here, then, was a man " starving " for association with good men and women. Back there under the shadow lay his evil associations and his bad associates. Out here he had come into the trailing light left RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION streaming into his tear-dimmed eyes by the disappearing life of the little baby whom he had passionately loved. If he was to stay out and follow on he must find new associa- tions, other places to be in, better things to do, " good and Christian men and women " to associate with. Religion meant to him changed relationships. And the change of associations was the condition, if not the equivalent, of his conversion. To find the good God, he was seeking better men and women. Not only to him, but to those of us who knew him, the one hope he had of the divine companionship was in finding men and women who were companionable with his new-found life. The very existence of his new ideals depended upon his finding human conditions and relationships which were at least compatible with them. But scarcely had this former gambler found his own place among the kinship of his new spirit than " the way of life " led him through the valley of the shadow of death. THE HUMAN POINT OF VIEW ^tricken by an occupational disease in the only employment which opened to him, his manhood stood the supreme test of sacrific- ing all for the highest and the best. When asked whether he would rather be as he had been, in the more prosperous ways he had forsaken, than stand at the end of his new life's hard struggle, he exclaimed, " Let me be, I would have lost my crown. " In this instance, at least, the new emphasis upon the social conditions and relationships of life was born out of the old " burden for souls." It is short-sighted to ask whether s you should work for the individual or for his surroundings and relationships. You cannot work for one without working for the other. You are not shut up to such a dilemma. You ought to work both ends of the line at once if you expect to meet the real man in the middle. For the approach to the innermost self lies through some one or more of the concentric areas in which each one of us lives, moves, and has his being. " Eye- RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION gate, ear-gate, touch-gate " are the avenues of sense which lead to the spirit. And just behind these senses lies the thinking mind, the whole area of the heart's emotions, the moral judgments and sanctions of con- science; still deeper, the religious feelings; and, towering above all, the imperious will, that citadel to which, as to imperial Eome itself, all roads lead. All around and about the body, mind, and spirit of every one of us also lie the human relationships, the social surroundings, the civic frame-work, the hereditary and historical antecedents which go far toward making us what we are. Through all these areas everything that in- fluences us must pass before it reaches our outer gate and enters in to the citadel of our selfhood. So identified are we with our surround- ings, which yet we strangely transcend, that the modern man is less and less able to con- sider himself apart from them, or to con- sider religion real if it does not embrace THE HUMAN POINT OF VIEW them. No man wants any one to tell Mm he~~ loves his " soul " if he does not love him. If you love my soul and do not love me, it means nothing. I do not and cannot take it to be love if you do not care about my life ; or whether my wife can stay at home to take care of the babies instead of going out to work to help me eke out the living which I have no fair chance to earn for my family; or whether my children can have enough schooling to get a good start in life; or whether I have a hovel or a decent house to live in; or whether the city is given over to corruption, so that I cannot bring my chil- dren up safely. What do I care if you care for my soul and do not care for me and mine! For what is my soul? Is it anything less than myself! Is it not all I am or can become! And this is the way that same spirit, after it has become the conquest of religion, goes forth to serve its fellows. Listen to this other man's quest for the Holy Grail: 25 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION " DEAR PASTOR: " In the first place, when we try to help a fallen brother, the odds against us are too great. Last night I believe that man was in earnest. When he said, ' I am tired of sin/ he meant it. He wanted freedom, peace, happiness. What were the odds against him and those new-born impulses? He went out from God's house, away from those com- missioned to do his work. Where could he go but out into the cold, friendless streets of a great city? Then what ? He had no home to go to, no friends to cheer and wish him Godspeed, so he must walk the streets. Were there no warm, lighted rooms to welcome him ? Yes, but he was to shun the dram shop. He did this. He passed by seven, with the struggle which God only knows. The door of the eighth stood open. It did look warm and com- fortable within. So he finally went in, and going apart from the motley crowd of hangers-on he removed his hat, and took from it the little card containing the time and place for meeting the new- found friends the next day. Alas, there and thus I left him. Perhaps I ought to have done some- thing with him or for him. But what could I do? Where could I have taken him? Cannot 26 THE HUMAN POINT OF VIEW something be done to lessen these odds, to even things up, to give the Lord a fair show with a man who wants to be saved? Thus on the field, in personal work, the individual emphasis and the social emphasis are seen to be two sides of the same thing. When men rise up in response to the re- ligious appeal and say, " If you knew how I live and have to live, and where I work and have to work, and how I earn my livelihood, you would not be quite so sure that I could accept this doctrine of the pure heart quite so readily," they may not be believed, but at least we can look to see whether the living and working conditions are such that the way of making a livelihood is the " way of life," or the way to death; whether the ways in which young people seek their pleasure lead them up or down; whether our munici- pal conditions and city government make it easier to do right and harder to do wrong, or easier to do wrong and harder to do right. RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION You cannot have a saved life survive always in unsaved surroundings. You can- not have a saved soul in a lost body. You cannot be half saved, inside and not outside. You must save a larger and larger part of the world's and man's human relationships, and make his surroundings at least compat- ible with the ideals of life which you are holding out to him, if he is ever to realise those ideals. The undoing of " evangel- ised " souls by unevangelised surroundings and relationships is the tragedy of modern religious experience. It is often due, not to the lack of the desire to be religious, but to the lack of that atmospheric pressure to protect and promote right living which every community should and can assure every one who enters upon the religious life. Law has been finely defined as the " steady pressure of divine love. ' ' Every one of us needs that pressure and the steadiness of it. Remove it from those of us who have never known what it is to be without it, and who of us THE HUMAN POINT OF VIEW knows what would happen to him? A foot- soldier in the Civil War said that the car- nage of the battle, the crushing of the bones of the wounded under the cannon wheels, the agony of the dying, were not so appalling as the collapse of character, when men were taken away from the atmospheric pressure of the restraints and impulses to which they had been accustomed at home. In his Consular Sketches, Hawthorne de- scribes the appearance of an American cler- gyman who came to the consulate to request him to keep his mail until called for. After the captain of the vessel on which he was to return home had been compelled to sail without this passenger of his, the man re- turned to the consulate so changed in appear- ance that he was scarcely recognisable. He reintroduced himself and asked for his mail. Then Hawthorne, taking the part of a faith- ful friend, held him up to himself so that he could not fail to see that he had not known how weak a man he was until he had found 29 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION himself alone, away from home, and lost in the crowd of a great strange city; and that he could not trust himself away from the restraints and supports of his home sur- roundings. From the human point of view, the social emphasis, therefore, is just as personal as religion is, and that is about the most per- sonal thing there is. And, on the other hand, the individual emphasis is just as social as is the life of a mortal man. 30 CHAPTEE III PERSONALITY A SOCIAL PRODUCT AND FORCE PERSONS have always been God's first chosen means for fulfilling his purposes. Upon them the selection, use, and efficacy of all other instrumentalities depend. This primacy of personality is everywhere asserted in the Old Testament and the New. In the persons of law-givers and prophets Jehovah revealed himself as clearly, if not more closely, to men, as by the words they wrote or spoke. In the New Testament the incarnation is God's own emphasis upon personality as a prime social force. His love for the world, wise enough to choose from all possible choices and great enough to make the last sacrifice, could suggest no higher instru- mentality for his loving service. So, first of all, God gave all that he is for us, all that 31 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION lie could be to us, in the person of his Son. And nothing that he does for us or gives us, apart from himself, can be compared with what Jesus is to us. No pardon of sin, no salvation of the soul, no heaven hereafter that can be conceived of apart from him who is our Brother, Saviour, and Life can measure the Christian's " unspeakable gift." Every other gift " without the giver is bare." For Christianity was born with him in his manger, it appeared among men when he " became flesh and dwelt among us," it died with him on his cross, it was buried with him in his sealed sepulchre, it was resurrected when he arose from the dead, it has been going into all the world since he has been with us always, it has been achieving its ascendency ever since he ascended on high. Christianity is Christ. And the old Christ- life is still lived as personally as ever before, if not more so. After twenty centuries each one of us has the opportunity of knowing Christ better than any generation which has PERSONALITY preceded our own. For through all these ages he has been drawing nearer, out of his- tory into experience, out of the letter into life, out of creeds into deeds, out of criticism into reality, even out of the Bible and the Church into the daily walks and work of the world its customs and laws, its government and administration, its justice and charities, its institutions and agencies, its commerce and labor, its literature and art, and all the relationships and movements of our lives. If the Church is still his shrine, the whole world is his sphere. The Good Shepherd still says, " I know mine own, and mine own know me." But he also reminds those who claim him for themselves alone, "other sheep I have, which are not of this fold ; them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and they shall become one flock, one shep- herd." So the life of the Lord is lived out in the open, where it belongs, with the stars and the green earth, with the trees and the common soil, with every other living thing RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION which God has made; so that every one who seeks may find him, and in him live, and move, and have his being. He who was thus given and gave himself to us, from all possible choices of agencies for the fulfilment of his mission, chose men and women as his first means. His first pub- lic act was to call men to be with him and to help him. Following the determination of the rulers to reject him when he felt the greatest need of help to finish his work, i l He called his disciples ; and he chose from them twelve, whom also he named apostles, . . . that he might send them forth to preach, and to have authority." Persons, then, are God's first and chief means. He chose them before, and has used them beyond, organization, ritual, code, or book. He has made the efficiency of all those other means depend upon his chosen persons, however much he made them depend upon these other means. What is it in the human personality that is 34 PERSONALITY thus first chosen and most used in religious and social work? Was it any one thing, or any certain characteristics, that he chose in them to the exclusion of all else that per- tained to them? Was it only John's heart, and Peter's zeal, and Andrew's brotherli- ness, and Paul's intellect and learning that he chose for his service! Is there anything to be discovered in these men that he did not choose for his use? He had need for all they were or could become. The whole manhood of each man was required for every service he was called upon to render. All that each of them was appears in everything they did or said or wrote. Our personality, there- fore, as chosen and used for service, consists of all that we are or can be. He whose own self we need has use for nothing less than our whole selves. The whole man is his choice. He chooses also for highest and greatest use what there is in each one of us that is common to all. As it is his own capacity " to be touched in all points like as we are " 35 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION that enables him to touch us all, so we touch men the best with his power who can be touched the most by human need. The num- ber of points which we have in common with men and at which we touch our fellows meas- ures our practical and efficient service in most lines of Christian usefulness. We are apt to forget this law of selection and service in our not altogether unselfish ambition to be distinct from and to be dis- tinguished above others. Although there are undoubtedly place and use for the character- istics which do distinguish one from another an Elijah from an Elisha, an Amos from an Isaiah, a John from a Matthew, a Paul from a Peter, a Chrysostom from an Augus- tine, a St. Francis from a St. Dominic, an Erasmus from a Luther, a Wyclif from a Wesley, a Spurgeon from a Shaftesbury, a Moody from a Phillips Brooks yet, how- ever much a man seems to be used because he differs, his larger usefulness is to be seen in the fact that he has more in common with 36 PERSONALITY men. That really distinguishes men the truly great from the actually small. A greater proportion of our common human nature makes a greater man for the divine spirit to dwell in and work through. Per- sonality is a larger instrumentality than pe- culiarity. The Son of Man was distinct from men in having everything in common with them, except sin. That which distin- guished him from them allied him to them. He set himself apart to God by " taking part " with men (Heb. ii. 11-18). His sanc- tification was consecration to service : l ' For their sakes I sanctify myself " (John xvii. 19). Such is the distinction we should seek if we would be used by him. Having in us the most that is common to others distinguishes us the best in Christ's work for men. In the light of the incarnation, the most human is the most divine. In Christian experience, the more the divine possesses us for use the more our humanity develops in service. In 37 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION doing anything witih us the Spirit makes more of us. The use God makes of a man enlarges his manhood for further service. Manhood, womanhood, and childhood are, then, the means of ministry, to which God prefers none other, than which he uses none more. There is something like a reincarnation in a godly life. The Word becomes flesh again in every one whose human nature has become a partaker of the divine, and dwells on earth among men in every such life. Christian character is another and better Holy Land. Paul, the toiler and the sufferer, seemed to himself to be the scene for the re-enactment of his Lord's life and work before the eyes of men. He is ' ' made a spectacle ' 3 a place for seeing, the stage of a theater " unto the world and to angels and to men " (1 Cor. iv. 9). What is best shown forth in the world is, therefore, most wrought into some one's experience. This thought may well comfort us all, but especially those whose PERSONALITY mission seems to consist only in bearing and being. They, too, are doers. Bearing is let- ting God act upon you and in your stead. To be wrought upon by him may be the greatest work for him. When laid aside and seem- ingly doing nothing, one possibly may be do- ing the most. What he tells us in darkness may be spoken in light, what is heard in the ear may be proclaimed upon the house-tops. The " shut-in " may " show forth. " As we need what others may be to us more than anything they can do for us or give to us, so others need what we can be to them more than anything we possess that we can part with. What the parent is to the child does more for it than anything he can give to it. The child more surely becomes what the par- ent is than anything he says or does to make the little one what he desires him to be. The poor, the neglected, or self-neglectful, the sinning or unfortunate all need what we are more than what we have. " Not alms but a friend," is the motto of modern philan- 39 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION thropy. Spiritual friendship is rarer, yet more needed, than alms or even preaching. It costs more to be something to others than to give almost anything we have to them. But being measures doing. Character is the fulcrum for accomplishment. We can really do for others no more spiritually than we are willing to be to them. This thought, that the Lord Jesus finds in our lives a place in which to live his own life again before men and angels, is most sug- gestively and beautifully wrought out in Denis Wortman's Reliques of the Christ, a poem which has in it much of the realistic mysticism of the mediaeval hymn-writers. " But my soul, as I thy good And evil ways explore, I seem to see the Christ in thee, His earthly life live o'er, Thou art another Holy Land (Ah, holy mightst thou be!) The olden joys and griefs of Christ Repeat themselves in thee. 40 PERSONALITY " No longing for His coming, No greeting Him with scorn, No mountain for His praying, No sea by tempest torn; No cheer of friend, no wrath of foe, From manger to the tree, But finds its faithful counterpart, Mysterious heart, in thee." Scarcely more definite and explicit are the terms which describe his own incarnation and life upon earth than those in which he declares our union with him, and in which the apostles recognised his union with us. " Ye in me, and I in you," is the mystical message of his consciousness and ours (John xiv. 19-23). " It is no longer I that live, but Christ liveth in me," is Paul's response (Gal. ii. 20). And John, who leaned upon his bosom, whispers, " We abide in him and he in us " (John iv. 4, 12-17) . The counterparts to his life in our experience are wonder- fully close and real, as they are suggested to us by those who live closest to him. 41 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION He is said to be " formed " in us at our re- generation as at his birth; we " suffer " and are " crucified " with him, " die " and are " buried " with him; we are " risen " and "glorified" with him. It reads like the repetition of the gospels of the letter in the book of his people's life. In Christian ex- perience there is a continuous reproduction of the life of Christ. It is a perpetual incar- nation. The Word becomes flesh as faith becomes life, as creed becomes deed. Christ is recognised as dwelling among men in no way so soon or so surely as in the Christian's life. The continuation of - his work in and through ours is also implied. The preface to the Book of the Acts of the Apostles (Acts i. 1) implies that its real title should be the Book of His Acts. It was Peter who took the lame man by the right hand at the beautiful gate and raised him up. But when he and John went to their own company they prayed " while thou stretchest forth thy hand 42 PERSONALITY to heal " (Acts iv. 30). " According to the working of his power, " Paul declares him- self to have been made a minister (Eph. iii. 7), and describes himself as " striving" to accomplish the ends of his ministry ' l accord- ing to his working, which worketh in me mightily " (Col. i. 29). " I laboured," said he, " yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me " (1 Cor. xv. 10). Our own sal- vation as that of others we " work out," " for it is God who worketh in you both to will and to work " (Phil. ii. 12, 13). ' ' This wonderful change in Africa, bringing light out of darkness, removing superstition and cruelty, unyoking the woman from the plough, tak- ing the witch from the stake, loosening the chains of the slave, and changing the slave-catcher into a brother who did it? Who did it? There are two different names given to him. Sometimes he is named God, sometimes he is named David Liv- ingstone; God is in him, sending him; and if Livingstone with God in him is there, then God is working in this marvellous and mighty change." 43 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION But the apostles' thought goes further than identifying Christ with the individual Chris- tian only. They suggest that God effects greater results through us unitedly than any one of us, apart from others, can accomplish, however wholly consecrated one may be, or however much in common with men and God one may have. Paul declares that " we all attain unto the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a full- grown man." In thus emphasizing " we all," instead of each one of us, he gives the suggestion of all coming together into one; of the putting together of all that we are into a common life all our hearts into one greater heart, all our little lives into one larger life. Moreover, he speaks of us as " fitly framed and knit together." Each is dependent for the supply of what is neces- sary to all upon being " joined " to every other. "All the body "to which he likened us when we thus grow together in- creases and is built up in its common life and 44 PERSONALITY love, " according to the working in due meas- ure of each several part." What " we all " are, when thus merged and blended together into " a fullgrown man," is a great common life made up of many lives, a corporate per- sonality consisting of many personalities. It is like the body of one great person. Paul calls it " His body." Addressing the Co- rinthian Christians, he reminds them and us of what they and we really are, i * Now ye are the body of Christ, and members each in his part " (Compare Eph. iv. 12-16 and 1 Cor. xii. 12-27). This then is the grandest definition of the ideal and function of the Church and also the most practical conception of its mission among men. It is all of us growing together into " a fullgrown man "; becoming " his body," " the fulness of him that filleth all in all "; living, loving, and laboring among men, " unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ." His personality and ours in one ; his spirit in our lives, his mind 45 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION in our thought, his heart beating in our hearts, his eyes looking through ours, our hands in his pierced hands lifting like one hand, our feet going about as his, doing good; this is " the Church which is his body," something like a divine-human per- sonality again on earth, dwelling and work- ing in every community. This definition in the letter is not larger than that which we may read in life's need of the Church's ministry. What men needed it to be, that its founder meant it to be. They need it to be among the sinning, suffering, struggling, sorrowing, aspiring, despairing people of to-day what he was among such when he " dwelt among us " in the body. We need the Church to be his visible repre- sentative among us, the manifestation of his presence in our midst, the medium of his ministry to us ; to be what he was and is to us all, to express what he feels and thinks for us all, to do what he did and would do for us all. The personal, organized, and unified 46 PERSONALITY ministry which the world needs of the Church, and the Church was meant to fulfil in the world, is all included in this definition " His body." This Scriptural idea of each individual life in its personal relation to Christ and fellow men is remarkably substantiated, illustrated, and applied in many particulars by the mod- ern view of the social nature of personality. Modern psychology traces our very selfhood to what others have contributed to us or done for us. Self-consciousness is our most personal possession. It comes nearer being our very self than anything else we possess. It has been taken for granted to be something for which we are indebted to God and our own natures and not to others. But those who are gaining new and deeper insight into child psychology assure us that even our self- consciousness is due in such part to others that it cannot be accounted for apart from 47 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION them. Thus Professor Koyce, of Harvard University, writing of the development of self-consciousness in the infant child, informs us: " As early as the second month it distinguishes its mother's or nurse's touch in the dark. This is the child's very first step toward a sense of the qualities which distinguish persons . . . the ego (that is, the I) and the alter (that is, the other) are thus born together . . . are thus essentially social. My sense of myself grows by imitation of you, and my sense of yourself grows in terms of my sense of myself." Prof. J. Mark Baldwin, of Johns Hopkins University, after quoting these and other opinions of Professor Eoyce, sums up and adopts them in these words : " The essence of the theory is that the child gets his material for the personality sense from persons around him by imitation. So that his growing sense of self is constantly behind his growing sense of others." 48 PERSONALITY Tennyson long anticipated these scientific conclusions of the psychologists in his seer- like insight into the developing self so beau- tifully described in these well-known lines from In Memoriam: " The baby new to earth and sky What time his tender palm is prest Against the circle of the breast, Has never thought that ' this is I.' " But as he grows he gathers much, And learns the use of ' I ' and ' me/ And finds ' I am not what I see, And other than the things I touch.' " So rounds he to a separate mind From whence clear memory may begin, As through the frame that binds him in His isolation grows defined. * This use may lie in blood and breath, Which else were fruitless of their due, Had man to learn himself anew Beyond the second birth of death." For our use of the very faculties upon which our self -development depends we are 49 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION as dependent upon others as we are for our birth and self-consciousness. We could not teach ourselves to talk unless we heard the speech of others. The only reason why those born deaf are mute is that they have not heard others speak, and so do not put their own vocal organs to use. Schools and all other educational means and agencies are made possible only by the co-operation of many. To educate each child, the state or Church or private agencies invest personal and financial resources, and teachers and pupils co-operate. The univer- sity is the universal life helping the indi- vidual to share the experience and achieve- ment of the race. Dr. William T. Harris, one of our greatest national commissioners of education, has given us our best definition of education in these memorable words : " Social life is the realisation of ideal man in a far higher sense than the life of the mere individual 50 PERSONALITY realises it. Thinking, reason, a rational moral will, a religious culture in the soul are not of the par- ticular man, but they are the ideal of the species and denote the ascent of the individual into the species. This is not a loss of the individuality, but a deepening of individuality into personality, which is the unique phenomenon found in social science. " In effect he defines culture to be the rise of the individual into the life of the species. That is, we are educated only as we let an- other individual, age, or race into our lives. For the uneducated person is the one who is shut up to his own little experience and ob- servation, who starts all over again by him- self alone, just as though no one had lived before him and no one were living about him. But as we let the experience and observation, the successes and failures, the knowledge and aspiration of others into ourselves, back goes our sky-line, out goes our horizon, greater grows the world in which we live, and larger is our own life. 51 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION Professor Baldwin's conclusions are there- fore sound: " Man is not a person who stands up in his iso- lated majesty, meanness, passion, or humility, and sees, hits, worships, fights, or overcomes another man, who does the opposite things to him ... so that he can be considered a unit. On the contrary, a man is a social outcome rather than a social unit. He is always, in his greatest part, also some one else. Social acts of his that is, acts which may not prove anti-social are his because they are society 's first ; otherwise he would not have learned them nor have any tendency to do them. Every- thing that he learns is copied, reproduced, assim- ilated from his fellows. When he acts quite pri- vately, it is always with a boomerang in his hand ; and every use he 'makes of his weapon leaves its indelible impression both upon the other and upon him." If all this be true, then education is a debt, culture an obligation, which can only be hon- estly discharged by turning back into the common life the best results of what others 52 PERSONALITY have made it possible for us to acquire. He or she who appropriates the self -development acquired through education solely to himself or herself, who thus takes as much out of others and gives as little back as possible, dis- honestly misappropriates what was given for another purpose. When with his family the writer was about to enter upon settlement residence at Chicago Commons, he was thus challenged by a Eussian- Jewish workingman: " I suppose you know that you owe it to us to share what you are and have with us. Well, you do, for while you are learning, we are labouring ; and if we, who may have as much capacity for learning as you, cease to labour, you would have no leisure to learn. " On leaving that same settlement household for his university course, a resident was followed to Harvard by a letter from his friend, also a Jewish workingman, to this fine effect : ' ' Do not for- get that your education cost more than you or your father can ever pay for. Therefore make RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION return in glorious light for all the oil that is being poured into the lamp of your life." Every school-trained boy and girl, man and woman, should as plainly be made aware that neither the family nor the Church, neither the state nor private endowments provide educational advantages for exclusively per- sonal use. The service of others or of the public is expected of every one whom others y ^educate. And there is no self-educated per- son, as there is no " self-made " man. Those who think they have made themselves gen- erally worship their maker. Selfhood rounds itself out by service. It culminates in offering the highest expression of our best selves to others. Self-sacrifice in service is really, therefore, self-develop- ment. Phillips Brooks has given us the fin- est balance between these two apparently opposite, but actually supplemental elements of a normal life : * ' And so these two, self-culture and self-sacrifice, both present themselves as true and pressing duties PERSONALITY of a human existence. No man has any right to contemplate the life before him, no man has any right to be living at any moment of his life, unless he knows himself to be doing all that he can to develop his soul and make it shine with its peculiar lustre in the firmament of existence. And no man has a right to be living at any moment unless he is also casting himself away and entering into the complete and devoted service of his fellow men. In order to cultivate himself more completely, the man is to sacrifice himself more completely. In order to sacrifice himself more completely, he is to cultivate himself more completely. These two great principles of existence will only come into harmony with one another in mutually adminis- tering to one another, as they pour themselves out together and mingle with one another, and find themselves a part of the great plan of God. Self- culture and self-sacrifice these two have been the great inspiring forces of existence in all ages, in every land." If he who reads shrinks back from this as from self -extinction, he should listen to what 55 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION the apostle Paul said to those who were long ago overheard murmuring, " This is to die." " Yes," replied the apostle, " ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God. When Christ who is our life shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory." Thus all the great servants of God and men have disappeared in the hidden life; Moses to deliver Israel from Egypt, Elijah to save Israel from Ahab, Paul himself to turn to the Gentiles, David Livingstone to heal ' ' the open sore of the world " in the dark conti- nent of Africa, Florence Nightingale to as- suage the horrors of war as the angel of the battlefield, John Howard to deliver the cap- tives from the dungeons of Europe, Lord Shaftesbury to do justice to England's work- ing men, women, and children in the factory acts, Lincoln to save the union which could not exist " half free and half slave." But these all reappear in the glory of our saved country, of England's industrial democracy, of furled battle-flags, and in the rising of 56 PERSONALITY " the sun of righteousness with healing in his wings " over all lands and peoples. Time enough, then, for us to reappear from our hidden life when Christ appears in the glory of what we are working with him to achieve. CHAPTER IV THE CALX. AND EQUIPMENT FOB EFFECTIVE SERVICE Two great needs are found to be in a dead- lock everywhere. Not only more workers but more kinds of workers are everywhere imperatively needed. And in nearly every community there are undeveloped capacities and untrained aptitudes, not only unutilised but actually perishing because unused or mis- directed. These personal resources are ade- quate and diversified enough to meet the need of almost every community. Much of the energy and ability of our youth, aroused and spending itself with glorious abandon, is mis- directed and " spent. " How shall we apply this precious power? Talents of the first or- der lie folded in the napkin of manly reserve and womanly delicacy. People's willingness 58 EFFECTIVE SERVICE to work is gradually overcome by their fear that they cannot do anything, or by their cer- tainty that they cannot do it well. They thus become unwilling to attempt that for which they come to believe they have no ability nor aptitude. How shall we put them to work? Our leaders are trying to do the work of a thousand people, instead of putting a thou- sand people to work. Is there any way of doing so except by making each one con- scious of what he or she really is, how he or she is actually equipped by nature and ac- quirement to serve, and of the opportunities available to train himself or herself for service? We have already gleaned Scriptural and scientific reasons for thinking that our per- sonality, which consists in what we share with others, measures our capacity to serve them by the number of points at which we come in contact and are identified with them ; that our individuality is as neces- sary and useful in sharpening up our apti- 59 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION tndes to meet those points of contact. Both personality and individuality are required to make any one serviceable. Phillips Brooks' greatest description of preaching and preparation for it as prac- tically describes the pith and point of all other social work : " Truth through personality is our description of real preaching. It has in it two essential ele- ments, truth and personality. Neither of those can it spare and still be preaching. The truth must come really through the person, not merely over his lips, not merely into his understanding and out through his pen. It must come through his character, his affections, his whole intellectual and moral being. It must come genuinely through him. ' ' In balancing the use to be made of personality and of individuality, the principle of personality once admitted involves the individuality of every preacher. Every preacher should utter the truth in his own way and according to his own nature. It must come not only through man but through men. If you monotonise men you lose their human 60 EFFECTIVE SERVICE power to a large degree. If you could make all men think alike, it would be very much as if no man thought at all as, when the whole earth moves together with all that is upon it, everything seems still." His conclusion is as true of all ministering as it is of " the ministry, " that the prepara- tion for all human service " must be nothing less than the making of a man. It cannot be the mere training to certain tricks. It cannot be even the furnishing of abundant knowledge. It must be nothing less than the kneading and tempering of a man's whole nature till it becomes of such a consistency and quality as to be capable of transmission." Such work is done only by men and women ministering, and the ministering is always and everywhere measured by the manhood and womanhood of those who minister. Light is greatly needed upon the call to usefulness. The conception of what a 1 1 call >: 61 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION is, not only keeps many young men out of the ministry, but prevents the great majority of church-members, and others who have the religious spirit, from recognising and responding to their varied callings. The general warrant for every one doing some- thing may be acknowledged ; the need for all that can be done may not be denied ; the de- sire and impulse to do more may be admitted in a conscience-stricken way; the accessible sources of knowledge concerning the work and its message may be well known ; and yet, if the consciousness of the special call or personal duty be lacking, there may not be sufficient momentum given by all these gen- eral considerations to carry even a devout soul over specific obstacles. The study of the call to discipleship (John i. 35-51) and the call to apostleship (Mark iii. 13-15) discloses the way by which the worker is drawn to the work. Here, and throughout Scripture history, it is a process of selection by which work and workers are 62 EFFECTIVE SERVICE brought together. Far too much emphasis has been laid upon the invariable necessity of a direct, supernaturally expressed " call," such as some of the prophets and the apos- tles are supposed to have actually heard from heaven. How far, even in these few most exceptional cases, the call may have been heard only within, and how far what was ' ' said ' * found its utterance to them through such circumstances and experiences as are common to the religious life, is a fruitful theme of study. Even some of the most direct calls made upon the workers of Bible days came to them out of plainly dis- cernible processes of experience, by which they had been gradually prepared to be called, and without which they could hardly have been capable of hearing or obeying. Excepting these few extraordinary cases, the " call " by which the person was led into discipleship and service was a process. In John's Chapter of Eurekas, those whom the 63 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION seeker " finds " exultingly cry, " We have found him! " They whom he thus silently sought had been silently seeking, until at last they needed Jesus only to approach, and John only to look upon them and speak, in order to recognise their call to follow and serve him. Thus drawn, they run after him. Seeking, they are found. Beneath the con- sciousness of their response, and accounting for it, is to be discerned the operation of a great law of spiritual selection. There, on the Jordan's banks, as every- where else since, there have been " diversi- ties of workings, but the same God." As John the Baptist introduced Andrew to Jesus, and Andrew ' ' findeth first his own brother Simon, and brought him unto Jesus, ' ' so personal influence continues to be the me- dium of communication between the will and its duty. Prayer, too, has its preeminent place given in this great scene of the choice of the Twelve. Nowhere is its solemn im- portance and practical efficacy more impress- es EFFECTIVE SERVICE ively set forth than in Luke's preface to the Master's call of the cabinet of his Kingdom: " He went out into the mountain to pray; and he continued all night in prayer to God. And when it was day, he called his disciples ; and he chose from them twelve, whom also he named apostles." To the type of this first call to discipleship and service modern experience conforms. In very much the same way in which every other decision of life is or ought to be reached, this call to religious and social work is being and must be decided. Out of the providential combination of circumstances, through the convergence of influences from above, about, and within, " by the pull of numerous forces," the divine call is to be expected. The whole trend of life may generally be seen to lead up to it. In his impressive treatment of the call to the ministry, Dr. Nathaniel J. Burton thus impresses upon us the comfort and significance of a growing call to minister: 65 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION " Calls may begin feeble (they often do), but as the years go on and our work goes on, the call ought to go on too, from strength to strength, being more and more articulate, affirmative, and inspir- ing. There is a band of music moving about the streets of the city and it is curious to notice in what alternating swells and falls it comes to you. Now you hear it and now you hear it not. A waft of wind has caught it. A line of buildings intervenes, or possibly the musicians themselves have ceased from their strong blasts, and are mov- ing through their gentler and half inaudible pas- sages. So it is with this other and more heavenly music, the music of God's voice inviting us to be co-workers with him in the gospel of his son. That great authentic voice comes to us through this and that medium, even as the air at large is made to deliver itself melodiously through the several in- struments of the band; but for various reasons, some innocent and some not, that one dearest music of our life, as chosen men of God, finds its way to our ears inconstantly. Various unpardonable winds sweep in. Various infirmities whereunto we were born and from which we cannot wholly escape interpose their confusion. Possibly an occasional 66 EFFECTIVE SERVICE miserable gust from the outlying hells of the uni- verse points this way to hinder our hearing. All this is incidental to a life on earth. But no real minister will consent, or will be called upon to consent, to a lifelong loss of a supernatural com- mission. By and by the old music will come back. In some watch of the night, in some moment of prayer and mourning, in some studious hour, in some praying assembly of God's people, by some bed where a saint lies dying, in the uplifted de- livery of some sermon, somewhere and before long, he will catch again that voice of voices, that call of his Heavenly Father, and straightway his work will be transfigured before him again and he will bear the strength of ten." The sense of personal unfitness for service, which often counteracts the consciousness of the divine call to render it, suggests the study of the character-training by which prophets, apostles, and the " chosen people " were fit- ted for their work. It is selected, equipped, and trained personalities that are the chosen means for ministry. The purpose and man- 67 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION ner of this training are both emphasised by the fact that " he calleth unto him whom he himself would; and they came unto him. And he appointed twelve that they should be with him, and that he might send them forth to preach, and to have authority " (Mark iii. 13-15). To "be with him " we are called first of all. And being with him is both an end in itself and a means to a further pur- pose. Character is religion's greatest achievement and the instrumentality of all its accomplishments. Our sending forth de- pends upon our being with him. The forth- going upon service is measured by our in- coming to fellowship with God and fellow men. Nowhere is the relation between prepara- tion and service more impressively stated than by Jesus' own life. How dispropor- tionately long seem those thirty years of silent preparation to the three brief years of his public ministry! Yet in what contrast with any three years of any other life or 68 EFFECTIVE SERVICE with all the years of the longest and greatest of lives stand those three years of his toil! The fact that he was but three years in doing all that he did is not without its connection with the other fact that he was all of thirty years in becoming what he was and in pre- paring to do what he did. The place in the plan of Christ 's life given to the training of the Twelve is also most em- phatic testimony to the divine sense of the necessity of preparation for service. More than by anything else his life-plan is to be discerned in the requirements of and pro- vision for the training of the disciples. This was the purpose that lay nearest to his heart. Every act and word, miracle and discourse, took its bearings from and had its bearing upon the development of their characters. The study of our Lord's life as the school for the training of his disciples reveals new plan and purpose in his whole earthly career. Two distinct aims are apparent in this training, to the accomplishment of which two 69 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION different periods of their discipleship and his life were devoted. The first effort of their great teacher was negative to liberate them from the limitations of their natures and sur- roundings. Fundamental qualities and ca- pacities are discoverable in the first six of the disciples which became the basis for at- tainment of character that qualified them for their service. The brotherliness of Andrew and Philip (John i. 41, 45), reappears in larger mould in John xii. 20-22. Through the Simon of John i. 42, Jesus saw the Rock- Man, Peter, of Matthew xvi. 16-19. John's coming to Christ, to see and abide, stands for that love and loyalty to which all the prom- ises are made (John i. 39). Nathaniel's guilelessness is the lowermost layer of the foundation of Christian character. (John i. 47, compared with Matt. vi. 22-24.) Yet these very fundamental elements of character were fettered and bound down by the limitations of their own natures, the force of fixed habits, the restrictions of false teach- 70 EFFECTIVE SERVICE ing and custom, and the iron-earth and brass- heavens of their hard age. To the rescue of their imprisoned spirits and their suppressed hearts the great Lib- erator came proclaiming release, the recov- ering of sight, the binding together of their fragmentary lives, the opening of the prison, and the liberty of life. Through all the early part of their discipleship he did little else than ring in their ears this proclamation of their emancipation. Most of his words were blows to strike off their shackles of self and sin. Most of their trials of heart and faith were the forges in which habit and custom were melted off. Most of the wonder-works they saw him do were done to let the op- pressed go free and to display the glorious liberty of the children of God. Such, too, must be the initial experience of our spiritual apprenticeship. It lies in the deeds that must be undone, in the thoughts that must be unlearned, in honest dissent from hitherto careless assent, in squaring 71 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION 11 hearsay " theories with facts, in surren- dering self and the very consciousness of it. But this conquest is the price of our liberty to live, to labor, and to love. Dispossession is the condition of being possessed with the divine purpose. With the opening of the last year of their training a great change is noticeable in the form and purpose of Christ's teaching and discipline. In the main, the manner of his speech becomes more direct and plain, more unreserved and confidential. He talks with them no longer as servants but as friends. He turns from what they should not be and what they should not do to tell them what they are to be and do. Affirmatives replace negatives in doctrine as well as in morals. Gradually he teaches the hard and high things as they are ready to bear them. Such is the positive training in character for which negative discipline is only and always pre- paratory. Thus, the first disciples shared his pur- 72 EFFECTIVE SERVICE pose not to be ministered unto but to minis- ter; they saw that greatness is measured by service and service by sacrifice. We have already seen that there is more use for the whole man than for any of his parts. We are bidden by St. Paul not only to " present yourselves unto God as alive from the dead ' ' but also ' ' your members as instruments of righteousness unto God." Our personality is thus represented as a whole armory of weapons for service. We should learn the serviceableness of each in- tellect, conscience, imagination, memory, will, and heart; and by exercise and discipline we should cultivate their capacity and develop their power. " The body is for the Lord; and the Lord for the body " (1 Cor. vi. 13). All its mem- bers, also, are instruments of righteousness unto God. The whole man is sometimes de- scribed as a " voice." The eye is the outlet and inlet of the soul. " Beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth 73 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION good tidings, . . . that publisheth salva- tion." Awful is the desecration of the body which is "a temple of the Holy Spirit." Terrible is the destruction of that temple when it is defiled. Nothing in the education and religious training of the young is more needed than developing and informing " a physical conscience " for the protection and spiritual culture of the body. Besides the implements for service with which we are equipped by nature there are those which, in the language of religion, are called " gifts of grace." Repentance, faith, hope, and love generally stand connected in Scripture with the words " in," "by," or " through." This means that they are the instruments in, by, or through which some- thing is done. Almost always what is said to be done by means of these instrumentali- ties is what is done through them for and upon the individual who possesses them. But there is warrant enough both in Scrip- ture and in experience to study these gift- 74. EFFECTIVE SERVICE growths of the religious life as implements in, by, and through which we may work for others. Experience with our repented sins gives us capacity to be touched with the feeling of others' infirmities and to share in David's and Peter's power to " turn the disobedient to the wisdom of the just." Kindled by love, the faith and hope by which our own souls are saved are the means of believing and helping others into the better life who have no faith nor hope in themselves. " God sends us a soul-friend once in a life- time," writes Harriet Beecher Stowe, " who loves us not for what we are or have been, but for what by God's great grace we may become." And she likens this soul-friend to the mother of Augustine, who dreamed that she saw him clad in the white robes of a Christian priest, ministering at the altar, when he was a prodigal in the far country, until he became the saint his mother's prayer-dream hoped he would be. Lord 75 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION Byron, on the other hand, is said to have lamented, " Men thought me to be so much worse than I was that I became as bad as they thought me to be." These natural endowments and gifts of the religious spirit, which we have been consid- ering as " instruments of righteousness unto God," must not be considered apart from ourselves. They are the living organs of our new life. They do not belong to any part of us. They are the organs of the whole man, through which the entire person acts. Man is a unit. We live one life. Mind is a man thinking. Will is a man willing. Faith is a man believing. Partition is the paralysis of the parted member and the crippling or death of the dismembered body. " Soul " and "spirit" have almost perished from our consciousness by being regarded, and so con- stantly referred to as something a man has. Soul is the self, all I am or can become. And the body is also so much a part of what we now are that it is difficult if not impos- 76 EFFECTIVE SERVICE sible to conceive of ourselves as disembodied. Browning enjoins us : " Let us not always say 'Spite of this flesh to-day I strove, made head, gained ground upon the whole. As the bird wings and sings, Let us cry, * All good things Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more now than flesh helps soul.' " The great commission of Judaism to invite tbe world to come into the Covenant, and of Christianity, " Go ye into all the world, " commits every disciple of both faiths to ful- fil tbis mission of tbe wbole congregation and cburcb. Although general enough to include tbe work of all, each one must read in it bis own part in the common cause. It pro- claims from tbe bouse-tops all tbat is spoken in tbe ear and within tbe inner chamber of eacb one's beart. Whatsoever bas been said in the darkness to eacb solitary worker is here 77 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION heard in the light. Its great common ele- ments enter into every one's summons. "All nations " indicates the catholicity in our ideals and efforts which are requisite to obedience and success, the all-comprehensive purpose of each one's mission. No one can do more. Nothing less will do. Debtorship to all prompts the best impulse and efficiency for striving to serve each. But to be good is not enough. We must be better than good, if we would do good. We must know how to do it, we must be effi- cient. " The goodness fallacy " is well said by William H. Allen to be fatal to both re- ligious and social work. No education should be considered " liberal " which does not fit for public service of some kind. No public school fulfils its function that does not fit for citizenship. No religious character or culture should satisfy any church or church- member that does not inspire and equip for serving others. To schools of civics and philanthropy leading students should be 78 EFFECTIVE SERVICE sent from colleges and seminaries, Sunday schools and training institutes, for graduate study and practice to learn to do efficient social work. For, all the qualifications to meet the re- quirements of the world-field are identified with the duty and privilege of service in that imperative mandate in each one's great com- mission, " Go ye." 79 CHAPTER V CHANGING CONDITIONS OF A WORKING FAITH IT is well to pause and poise one's thought in turning from the experience of religion as a personal possession toward the necessity to apply it to the relationships and conditions of human life. For there is danger of part- ing asunder what God has put together, of making antagonistic to each other and mu- tually exclusive the elements which consti- tute the same life and which are inextricably identified in every human being. If life and religion are alike in being made up of our relationships to God and fellow men; if the human factors involved in the problem of applying the divine ideals and forces of religion to every life must be reck- oned with; if personality itself must be rec- ognised as a social product, as well as a social 80 CHANGING CONDITIONS force ; then a religion of right-relationship f o fellow men and Father God is the only re- ligion we can live by or work with. In this very way God constituted both human life and religion itself, according to the Scrip- tures. If this is true, then it follows that the emphasis upon the human elements inherent both in life and religion is no less religious, spiritual, and divine. For God himself has not only constituted human life in that way, but Christ himself declares " on these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." The first of course is first " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength." But it implies a second, and " the second is this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." On these two together, not on either one of them apart, all religion hangs. And yet there are poor souls, perhaps the most of us, who are trying to be religious on 81 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION one of these lines alone, trying to be religions individually while collective!^ we are pagan; trying to live an individual Christian life, while our own and others' relationships in business and pleasure, in society and politics, ignore Christian exactions and ideals, wholly or in such large part that our collective life is essentially heathen. This awful dualism is the ethical tragedy of the age. In the vain attempt to live our life on two levels we lose it on both. Our relationships to God our Father are not ' ' saved ' ' if the relations in which we are living with his children, our fel- low men, are ' ' lost. ' ' No more is our social life sound if it is lived only manward and not Godward. Each of us lives one life, not two. There are indeed two tendencies in each life, but one of them is the main stream and the other is only the eddy. In the seventh chap- ter of the Epistle to the Eomans, that great- est and last analysis of an individual human life, St. Paul, indeed, shows us two laws struggling for the mastery of the one life, 82 CHANGING CONDITIONS the " law of sin " and, the " law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus. ' ' But through- out the ebb and flow of the desperate strug- gle, above and beneath the soul's cry of despair and defeat, or of triumph and victory, he shows the " I myself " to be living one life after all, dominated by either one or the other of these two laws. So Eobert Louis Stevenson's weird tale of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde tells the story of only one man, not two. In effect it powerfully dramatised this seventh chapter of Paul's Epistle to the Romans. For however much there may seem to be two men in one, the man of the story is really only the one or the other of these two characters at one and the same time. When he is the better Dr. Jekyll, he is not the worse Mr. Hyde. When he is the worse Mr. Hyde, he is not the better Dr. Jekyll. One of St. Paul's " two laws " dom- inates the other, as Stevenson's hero is dom- inated by the human spirit of a Jekyll or by the fiendish spirit of a Hyde. 83 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION When a discharged convict confided to the writer that he himself was these two charac- ters, as he had seen them acted on the stage of a theatre, he was asked whether he had ever been both of them at once. " No," he confessed, " I have been Mr. Hyde most of the time and Dr. Jekyll some of the time. But as I know that the bad man Hyde is hold- ing down the good man Jekyll in me, I have come to you to help turn me over." And then he wistfully asked, as though trying to recover some lost charm from a dream, 11 Isn't there something in the Bible, promis- ing rest to a fellow who is tired of himself? " Back to him came the promise, " Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." Then he murmured, as though talking to himself, as he had in the solitude of prison life, " That's it. I learned it when a little boy in Sunday-school and often tried to remember and repeat it in my cell, but I never knew it meant me until now." 84 CHANGING CONDITIONS To be " saved " this man had to learn to live one life, and no longer try to live two lives. And his outer life had to be made one with his inner life. In order not " to be conformed to this world " in which he had been living the evil life, his " world " had to be made conformable to his new life, or it would have perished at the birth. To be i ' transformed by the renewing of his mind ' ' involved all the help he could get from Father God and brother men to conform the little world in which he had lived to the new life he was living. And at the trans- formation, men wondered as they did at Pentecost. Somehow we must realise in ourselves and in all the world more of that unity of life this side of the judgment-bar, if our souls are to stand the single test of that last assize, or men are to continue to believe in religion as the power to save them in that last great day and in every day through which they approach it. Many men, seem- 85 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION ingly furthest away from religion, and con- sciously to themselves anti-religious, are found to relate religion little or not at all with their own human lives and relationships. Almost to the last man, a group of radical working men in Chicago insisted that religion was something superimposed by an arbitrary divine authority; or, if they did not recog- nise divine authority at all, that it is some- thing superimposed by a small class of people upon the mass of people, who are held up to reprobation or ostracism if they do not con- form to the creeds and church institutions of the other class. When told that every man of them had a religion of his own, if he did not accept that of Christianity or Judaism; that his religion consisted of his own ideals of his relationship to God and fellow men, if he did not accept Christ's ideal of these rela- tionships, they cried out against any such reasonable definition of religion as unhis- torical and never realised. " That has never been the religion which the Church has 86 CHANGING CONDITIONS taught or practised in all the wo rid, " was their rejoinder. " However that may be admitted or de- nied, nevertheless, " it was claimed, " this is the ideal of religion taught by the Bible and practised by its truest believers. Creeds and churches, sermons and services, rituals of worship and rules of life impress and express religion more or less. But religion itself is relationship. The relationship which each one of us actually has to God as Father, and to fellow men as brothers, is all the religion that any one really has, although the more of it that he aspires to constitutes no small or unreal part of his religious faith and hope." This humanized definition of religion so over- came their objection that some of these very men offered to organize and join a church, 1 1 if it could be called by another name." At Christ's judgment-bar, if not before, we will be confronted by the single supreme test of one life, one religion. There the only religion that stands the final test is one that 87 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION covers the whole life and all its relation- ships. There will be found such " unity of faith and knowledge of the Son of God " that there will be no distinction between the individual and the social, the secular and the religious, the physical and the spiritual, the human and the divine, in either life or re- ligion. There it will be no excuse to say that you did not know it was religious to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, take the stranger in, clothe the naked, visit the sick, and come unto the prisoner. Neverthe- less the Saviour-judge will say, " Inasmuch as ye did it not unto one of these least, ye did it not unto me." For so identified is he with each one of us, " So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is God to man," that the Son of Man from his judgment- throne does not recognise anything to be divine that is not human, does not acknowl- 88 CHANGING CONDITIONS edge anything as done to him which is denied to his brother men, does not welcome to his presence those claiming relationship to him who ignore or deny their relations with the least and the lowliest, with each and all of woman born. Indeed, ' ' the righteous ' ' seem to be the more welcome from the fact that when rewarded for doing unto their brethren what Christ would have had them do unto him, they answered him saying, " Lord, when saw we thee hungry, and fed thee? or athirst, and gave thee drink? And when saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? And when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? ' Just because they did it only for the sake of their brethren themselves, the Christ- judge seems the better pleased to take it as done unto himself. God Almighty thus identifies himself with every human being, and if you and I do not, we are not God-like, we are not yet restored to the likeness of the image of our Father in heaven in which he made us to RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION be man-like. We cannot be like him until " we see Mm as he is." This religion of relationship is surely if slowly being attained and never more genu- inely and rapidly than now. There is a shift of emphasis in the appeal of both evangelism and nurture which aligns religion far more closely with the social consciousness of the age. The " soul " that is saved is not now said to be any part of a person, not even the highest and best part of us, but it is nothing less than the whole self, all we are or may become, the man, the woman, the child. The emphasis which used to be so exclusively placed upon the future life has shifted a more proportionate part of its weight to the salvation of the present life. Passive submission to the " divine decrees," which used to paralyse effort and classify the very race into the " elect " and the " rep- robate," has been happily supplemented, if not superseded, by practical endeavour 90 CHANGING CONDITIONS to change those human conditions which are antecedent to and surround every human life and which make so mightily to shape its destiny. The whole life of* the individual and the race, to be saved and built up in the fulness of Christ, is the Holy Grail for which modern Christianity is in' quest. To what salvation saves has fairer emphasis, even if it be somewhat at the expense of the empha- sis which should be laid upon what it delivers us from. Sin is less considered abstractly, apart from the person sinning, and is more closely brought to bear upon turning the self from sin. Eighteousness'is more than " im- puted " and stops not sh'&rt of righting the relations of each one of us to God and one's it fellows. The humanity* Christ has come to be one of the most cMvincing proofs of his divinity. For as wee him to be so much more of a man thH any of us ever has been, we are led to think him to be more than man. This shift in the weight of Chris- tian emphasis is surely taking place. But 91 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION the emphasis as surely weighs as much as ever, and perhaps even more to the modern mind. The old " burden of souls " is on the heart and conscience as much, if not more, than ever. But we have our own ways of bearing it in this day and generation. Our present recognition and assumption of this old bur- den are coming to be more diversified, spon- taneous, scattered, and perhaps more real for being less conventional and less exclusively ecclesiastical in their expression. It may seem, therefore, that breadth in evangelism makes it less intense, concentrated, impress- ive, and therefore yields fewer tangible re- sults. Yet more people really care more for their fellow men than ever before, and show it in a greater variety of practical ways. Of William T. Stead, London's distin- guished public-spirited citizen, who was neither a minister nor an evangelist, one of England's greatest and most evangelistic pre- 92 CHANGING CONDITIONS lates said, " He really cares more for his fellow men than any one I have ever known. ' ' In so saying Cardinal Manning not only gave noteworthy and deserved attestation to one of the foremost Protestant laymen of the world, but he emphasized the modern ex- pression of the burden for souls. This greatly increased care for one an- other is evidence of a growing religious con- sciousness. Being a Christian is to become more conscious of God and fellow man, and less self-conscious. That is Christ's way of begetting in each one of us the consciousness of our better, broader, higher, diviner self- hood. It is the way in which he hands back to the one who gives himself away in the service of God and his fellow men a self bet- ter worth the saving, because it is more to God and others, and does more for the world and the Kingdom. Eeligion manifests its hold and growth upon the present people by making us more fully conscious of each oth- er's existence. We are more than " souls ' 93 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION to each other, we are selves. We care for each other, not as " a case," but as a man, a woman, a child; as families, partners, schoolmates and shopmates, neighbors and fellow citizens. The burden of the soul has become the burden for the whole self, in all its relationships. To be consistent in claim- ing to love souls and to try to save them, more and more of us profoundly feel it to be incumbent upon us to care for the life and limb, the livelihood and standard of living, the health, and well-being, the growth and the happiness of our fellows. This shift in emphasis is indicative both of a stern necessity and of the persistence of religious life in adjusting itself to changed conditions. To manifest and transmit the life of God through the lives of men is the problem of religion in this and every age. tests the faith by its capacity to adjust its vital spirit to the evolving form of life, its permanent principles to the changing modes of living, its eternal life to mortal 94 CHANGING CONDITIONS ^ lives. Adjustment to changing conditions is a necessity to which life must conform, or cease to exist. This is the inexorable law of all life, to which the spiritual life is no exception. No soul, no church is exempt from it. Physically, intellectually, socially, spiritually we must change or die. This stern necessity to readjust faith to the changing conditions of life is the tragedy of personal experience as it is the test of reli- gions and churches. It is also the attestation of the religious faith and life that they can stand the test. Trying as the transitions are and sympathetic as we should be with those who are suffering their way through them, there is really more in them to reas- sure than to disturb us. Would we not have valid ground for deep doubt as to whether our religious faith, life, and institutions were God-made if they only, of all things which God made, did not and could not change? Should not the shifting scenes and trying transitions through which not only we, but 95 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION all others who have preceded us, have been obliged to pass be to us what those of our Master's days on earth were to him only the unfolding of the Father's purpose, the signal to take the next step forward in the progress of his great plan for our life and work, the call to change our method of proce- dure in employing the differing means now necessary to achieve the same unchanging ends? Through no greater test and transition has the life of God in the souls of men passed than in the adjustment it is now making to the human lives now living and working, un- der the most rapid and radical changes ever experienced in the history of the race. Who that is at work can fail to recognise these changes'? They are altering the face of the very earth, are requiring us to use radically different methods of maintaining our own existence, are irresistibly relating us to each other so that we can less and less live apart, and are shifting our innermost points of view 96 CHANGING CONDITIONS from which we look out upon the world and up to God. Thus in the inner life of our thought and feeling the natural and supernatural are be- ing brought nearer together than ever be- fore, though rendered no less distinct, by the approach of modern science and the philoso- phy and experience of religion toward each other. The material and the spiritual, and our own body and soul, are more identified in the unity of our thought by the insight into our selves which modern psychology gives us. The individual and the race are coming to be more inseparable in our consciousness of both sin and salvation. God's world and the kingdom of the Father are beginning to in- tersphere in our thought and work, as they do in the Word itself; and the Church can less and less hold aloof from either. More and more the letter killeth, more and more it is only the spirit that maketh alive. In our interpretation of the Scriptures, through our better knowledge of antiquity, 97 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION the Bible is becoming more human, but all the more divine for that. Evidences of the divinity of Christ grow with increasing rec- ognition of his humanity. The reality of the Christian experience promises to be more pronounced as we gain more accurate psy- chological knowledge of the ways of God's Spirit in a human soul. Child study and the psychology of the child-mind, by teaching us how " this little child receives, " is enabling us to manifest the divine life at each period of the child's growth, so that the growing boy and girl can really see and handle the Word of life. Scientific insight into the choices of the human will emphasises more strongly than ever the essential reasonable- ness and necessity of the legitimate evangel- istic appeal, while at the same time helping us to discriminate between what is sensuous and spiritual, temporary and permanent, su- perficial and real, meretricious and valuable, in evangelistic method and result. In the outer world the transition from an 98 CHANGING CONDITIONS agricultural to a commercial age ; from rural to urban conditions of life ; from working for a living alone or with a few, to working to- gether with large groups in complicated proc- esses of production ; from sharing a national life with people of our own language and race to living and working in great international and cosmopolitan populations this transi- tion is the greatest change through which the institutions of civilization and religion have ever passed. But here again in these mighty changes we should see only the Master's marching orders to his people, the mandate of the liv- ing Lord which his living Church need not fear to obey. They are his commands only to apply the Gospel's age-long, time-tested, saving truths so much further as to bring the whole of a human life under their sway and the whole world into the Kingdom. The individual " must be born again," so it must be the function of the Church to give every human life a better chance to be born 99 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION right the first time, by improving the heredi- tary and environing conditions of birth and life. Kegeneration is as necessary for the community as for the soul, if either or both are to be fully saved^/ More and more men need to be convicted of and turned away from their social, industrial, and political sins, in order to be made conscious of and penitent for their personal sins. The " cross " loses most of its demand and meaning in modern life, unless, in addition to the individual self- sacrifice and vicarious suffering for others for which it now stands, it also comes to be a cross of industrial, political, social, civic, and economic self-denial. The intercession and mediation of Christ fail to be fully ap- plied unless his followers intercede between brethren at strife and mediate peace in the fratricidal wars which shame the industrial and national life of Christendom. This social emphasis in religious feeling and work is not new. It is as old as the second table of the law from Sinai, " Thou 100 CHANGING shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. " It is as Christian as the law of neighbour love and that rudiment of all Christian ethics, Christ's Golden Eule. It is not a substitute for, or anything that is preferred to, the emphasis upon the individual life. You are not shut up to choose whether to work for the indi- vidual or for the improvement of social con- ditions. " Work for the soul to make a man good! " Surely. " And that good man makes his surroundings better? " That is true, but it is only the half truth. For bet- ter surroundings help to make men good. That is the other half of the whole truth. You cannot work for one without working for the other. The surest way to accomplish either one is to work at the same time for the other. We have kept these essential parts of the same work too far and too long apart. Both ends of this same line should be worked together and at once. That is the only way to save the soul and to save the world too. For the world is only the relationship of all 101 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION souls. But it takes more and more of a saved world to save a single soul. The social, emphasis, therefore, is per- sonal. Individual emphasis, therefore, is social. Taken together their emphasis in re- ligion is no less reformatory for being all the more formative. It is good to criticise, but better to construct; good to destroy things evil, but better to build and plant good things ; good to know what not to do and be, but bet- ter to know what to be and do; good to be negative, but better to be positive; good to deny, but better to affirm; good to re- form, but better to form. "One formatory is better than ten thousand reformatories," said Horace Mann, the greatest of our pioneer American educators. It is, moreover, an impressive fact, worthy of the most reverent consideration, that both Judaism and Christianity now, as in every other age, have put the social emphasis of the religion into life and work, before and always more than into literature and theory. CHANGING CONDITIONS Indeed, the social theory and literature of both Synagogue and Church have always come out of their life. No social institutions and life have survived which were the prod- uct of any mere theory. However uncon- sciously to herself, or however unrecognised by men, the Church has always builded bet- ter than they or she knew. Her family struc- ture is the most indestructible and indispens- able unit of society. Her Christian Associa- tions for young men and young women are forming the conditions and relations which form their characters and shape their des- tiny. Her educational philanthropies are raising the abject and subject classes. Her local households of faith have been, and may be again, natural and necessary centres of the community, co-ordinating and bringing into harmony and co-operation all the forces of neighbourhood and national life that make for righteousness and fraternity. Her mis- sionary agencies, at home and abroad, are founding new civilisations. Slowly but 103 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION surely, the social moulds for a new manhood are being forged and fashioned, and the structure of a new heaven and a new earth is evolving. The " kingdom of the Father " is the only centre and circumference of a unity that comprehends the material, social, and spiritual interests of mankind. The gos- pel of the Kingdom is sociology with God left in it, with the Messianic spirit as the bond of unity, with the new birth of the individual for the regeneration of society, and the dy- namic spirit of religion as the only power adequate to fulfil its social ideals. Sociology may yet be claimed as having derived its birthright from Judaism and Christianity and as the science of " the kingdom " which fulfils the covenants of promise in both Testaments. CHAPTER VI THE RELIGION OF HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS IT is not more human to err than to be re- ligious. Man has been described as " an in- corrigibly religious animal." Eeligion of some sort is as natural to human beings as real religion is supernatural in its origin and results. Its rootage is as deep in the social relationships, which associate men, women, and children together, as it is in the individual instincts of each of them. The very terms which both Old Testament and New Testament use to describe our rela- tions to God are just those which describe our relations to each other. They are the terms of the known quantities which inter- pret to us the unknown quantities of our spiritual relations. Upon the terms of our 105 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION family relationships we are dependent for our knowledge of what God is like, of what he is to us and we are to him and to each other. " Like as a father," " as one whom his mother comf orteth, ' ' so is God. We are " children " " brethren " " sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty " " of the household of faith." Love, obedience, sacri- fice are the home terms which reveal our fun- damental religious duties. " My Father's house " is the one disclosure of the unknown future, which enables us to feel " at home " there. If the family terms were taken out of our Bible, its revelations of our spiritual relationships would cease to re- veal. So the activities of the " faith which works " are described in terms of our work- aday life, and of our industrial relations. We are God's " husbandmen " " build- ers " " fishers " " shepherds " " yoke- fellows " " fellow labourers " " workers together with God." By such political terms 106 HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS of civic relationship as " commonwealth " " fellow citizens r " kingdom of priests " -" holy nation " " city of God " " coun- try of our own," we learn to live that corpo- rate life, to share that community of inter- ests, to realise that ideal social order in which religion unites all who seek " the city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God." If these terms are figures of speech, they as surely mean the earthly types of the heavenly realities. Without these visible signs, the unseen things signified would be unknown. But their significance rises no higher into the divine than their rootage runs deep into the human. For the whole Old Testament and ancient world both show us how surely the consciousness of self and of God roots in our consciousness of each other. Throughout those ancient times men were more conscious of belonging to the group the family, the tribe, the nation than of be- longing to themselves. Their morality and 107 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION religion, their rewards and punishments, their life and destiny were family, tribal, and national characteristics, which were shared by these groups, and were rarely claimed for individuals apart from the group. Indeed, consciousness of the group life was so much stronger than the consciousness of self, as separable from the group, that the family, tribe, or nation was the individual unit, of which persons were but fractions. The household, the kinship, the people were the wholes, of which individuals were only parts. Therefore the prophets and the lawgivers addressed the people as a whole ; punished or rewarded families and tribes, without regard to distinctions between their members ; sum- moned the whole nation to repentance; and addressed all the really religious Israelites as * ' servant of Jehovah the sacrificing, suf- fering, world-saving and -serving Messianic r>eople." The personal Messiah is repre- sented as the culmination of this national Messianic history, and as the initiator of a 108 HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS still higher social order called the " kingdom of God," and the equivalent of the " Golden Age." Thus it was entirely natural for Jesus to come " preaching the gospel of the king- dom." It was inevitable that he should group his followers into a fellowship of " the twelve," "the seventy," "the disciples." It was as historic as it was prophetic for him to expect the " kingdom of the Father " to grow up out of this fellowship. And it was practical for his disciples to gather them- selves within the " communion " of local churches and organize their effort to bring that " kingdom " into the world and trans- form the world into the " kingdom." From the very beginning of the Jewish version of human history, God is represented as making the world good and declaring it to be so. And to the very end, " the kingdoms of this world " are promised to become the " kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ." What then is " the earth " and " the world " 109 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION which are said in the Old Testament to be " the Lord's"? What is " the world " of which Abraham is said to be " the heir," which God " so loved," which Jesus " came not to condemn, but to save," and for which he prayed unto the very last not that his disciples should be taken out of the world but " that the world might believe "! What is it but the natural associations of human lives, the primary relationships in which men, women and children were meant and made by God " to live and move and have their being "! What is it but the " cos- mos," the order of life, or the life-spheres in which human beings naturally and inevita- bly relate themselves to each other? The " world," therefore, which " the kingdom " is to win and sway is nothing more or less than those primary, elemental, essential rela- tionships which we call the family, the neigh- bourhood, industrial associations, fellow citi- zenship, and religious affiliations. These constitute " the world," over which man is 110 HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS bidden to " have dominion," the evil part of which is judicially decreed to be overcome and to pass away and the redemption of which is declared to be the purpose and triumph of both Judaism and Christianity. How fatally fictitious the hard-and-fast and mutually exclusive distinction between " the church " and " the world " really is, and how untenable it is coming to be, let this vigorous protest from the editor of the Hib- bert Journal attest : " The statement that the race at large is ' lost ' or ruined escapes criticism only so long as it is kept within the realm of vague generalities; but let the attempt be made to find the seat of this moral bankruptcy, or to rail off the solvent rem- nants from the rest of the race, and the charge will either evaporate or be maintained by its supporters at the cost of their reputation for justice and good sense. ... No doubt there are multi- tudes of lost souls everywhere, but that is very different from saying that the race is ruined. If the race were ruined, no section of the race would 111 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION be aware of the fact. In the words of Principal Caird, ' The proposition would be unintelligible unless it were false.' 11 If by ' the world ' we mean such things as parliamentary or municipal government, the great industries of the nation, the professions of medi- cine, law, and arms, the fine arts, the courts of justice, the hospitals, the enterprises of education, the pursuit of physical science and its application to the arts of life, the domestic economy of millions of homes, the daily work of all the toilers if, in short, we include that huge complex of secular activities which keeps the world up from hour to hour, and society as a going concern then the churches which stand apart and describe all this as morally bankrupt are simply advertising them- selves as the occupiers of a position as mischievous as it is false. " If, on the other hand, we exclude these things from our definition, what, in reason, do we mean by ' the world ' ? Or shall we so frame the defini- tion as to ensure beforehand that all the bad ele- ments belong to the world, and all the good to the church? Or, again, shall we take refuge in the customary remark that whatever is best in 112 HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS these secular activities is the product of Christian influence and teaching in the past? This course, attractive though it seems, is the most fatal of all. For if the world has already absorbed so much of the best the churches have to offer, how can these persist in declaring that the former is morally bankrupt? . . . !< Extremists have not yet perceived how dis- astrously this dualistic theory thus recoils upon the cause they would defend. The alienation from church life of so much that is good in modern culture, and so much that is earnest in every class, is the natural sequel to the traditional attitude of the church to the world. The church in her theory has stood aloof from the world. And now the world takes deadly revenge by maintaining the position assigned her and standing aloof from the church. " The false dualism will never be ended by the defeat of either member at the hand of the other. The true solution of this, as of every other problem of history, does not arrive until the opposing ele- ments become merged in a higher unity and the claims of the parts are finally overriden by the claims of the whole. " RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION It is into these world-spheres, therefore, that Jesus sends his disciples, as he himself was sent. His imperative mandate is " Go ye into all the world." And into it, further and further, not out of it, must we go, if we obey and follow him, if we share the fellow- ship of his suffering and of his glory. To do so intelligently, individually or collect- ively, we must know just what these life- spheres are which constitute " the world ' into which we are to bring " the kingdom," in order that the kingdom may possess the world and make it a part of itself. We must know what these primary human relation- ships mean, what they are for, what each of them is expected to do that nothing else can do so well, if at all, what institutions and agencies express and fulfil the functions of each of these essential human partnerships which constitute every local community and society at large. There is no better way to study and fulfil our social obligations and opportunities than 114. HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS to get a clear idea of the function and sphere of the family relationship, of neighbourship, of industrial conditions and relations, of the humanitarian responsibility and service in- cumbent upon any group of people constitut- ing a township, a village, a county, a city, a state, a nation. To find out just what is to be done and just how to do it in each one of these spheres of life and work, there is no better way than to group the actual or possi- ble agencies available to help each one of us, or every group of us, to fulfil our parts in and through the home, as parents and chil- dren, as husbands and wives, as brothers and sisters ; in and through the neighbourhood, as neighbours to those neighbouring us ; in and through our business partnerships and our industrial fellowships, as those who are part- ners with our Father God and are parts of his very Providence whereby he feeds and clothes, shelters and nourishes all his chil- dren, and " opens his hand to supply the wants of every living thing "; in and through 115 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION the town and city, as citizens charged with the tremendous responsibilities of building and maintaining the frame-work within which every one in each community is born, grows up, lives and works, meets death and des- tiny ; in and through the Church, as members of Christ and each other, commissioned to reveal and apply the ideals of religion to ourselves and to all others in every one of these life-spheres in which we live, or which is within the reach of our individual and col- lective influence throughout all the world. What then is the function of the family re- lationship as expressed and fulfilled through the institution of marriage and the hpme? Is it not the propagation of the race, the nur- ture of child life, the culture of the whole life, the rest and recuperation, character- building and satisfaction, of every human being? Is it not to set the type and inspire the spirit which should characterise and dom- inate human beings in all their other rela- tionships, neighbourly, industrial, civic, and 116 HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS ecclesiastical? If this idea of what a family is for is borne in upon us, will it not impel us to seek and create every agency that will help us and others to make the most of and do the best by our own homes and others'? Will not our effort thus to group around the family those agencies which are most tributary to it, or to which it may be most tributary, help us the better to define, or- ganise, relate, and utilise these agencies? If we realised that most of us depend upon neighbourship for our human fellowships, our recreations, philanthropy, and social prog- ress, would it not mean more to us to be neighbours and to have neighbours, and to rescue and restore, fulfil and enjoy those neighbourly relationships which are well-nigh lost in the readjustments and transitions of modern life? If " business " and the " office force " and the ' l shop 's crew, ' ' the labour union and the employers' association should come to be recognised as the means and agencies through 117 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION which the very Providence of God is provid- ing for the preservation, sustenance, the ma- terial comfort, convenience, equipment, and progress of life, will it not most surely and swiftly free each one of us, and also the world, of that sordidness and selfishness, that fratricidal strife and workaday atheism which lay the heaviest curse upon the human race! Is there any other way of turning business into brotherhood and human broth- erhood into business? Is there a steadier, more equitable, more effective way of making ' ' life more than meat and the body than rai- ment, " of making the physical and material serve the spiritual and not dominate and de- stroy it, of making the way of earning a liv- ing also " the way of life " and not the way to moral destruction and spiritual death? If politics were invested with no less a function than the protection of life and prop- erty, the repression of vice and crime, the promotion of virtue, the realisation of the highest ideals of each individual life and of 118 HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS every family and of each community and of the whole social order, would we talk of " dirty politics "? Would we not consider citizenship as serious as religion and a part of it, would not a city and town be like a sanctuary, and a ward and a precinct be a holy place, and the voting-booth and ballot- box a holy of holies'? If all life were invested with such sanctity and every sphere of it were sacred, religion would be no less reverenced and its sanctu- aries would be all the more places of privi- lege and power. For then the supreme function of religion would be recognised as essential to all life. And the unique and pre- eminent prerogatives of the Church would identify it with all that is both divine and human. For to the Church the world would look for the revelation of the divine ideal of life, individual and collective; for the in- spiration to aspire to it; and for the power to realise it in personal experience and all social relationships. 119 CHAPTER VII THE FAMILY: FIELD, FUNCTION, AND TKIBUTARY AGENCIES NOTHING human is so identified with all that that is divine as is the family. Like the sac- rament itself, it is the visible sign of all the invisible sanctities of religion; the type of its relationships, Godward and manward; the mould in which both the form and spirit of the Church were divinely purposed to be cast. Historically the family is the single source to which all the synagogues and tem- ples of Judaism and all the churches of Christendom are to be traced. Wherever, like the sun's rays, their " lines have gone out throughout the earth and their words to the end of the world, " they all converge in Abraham's household, and in " the Church that was in their house " who first accepted 120 THE FAMILY the Christian evangel. The temple on Mount Zion strengthened the stakes and lengthened the cords of the patriarch's tent and of the tabernacle within which the nomad tribes shared with Jehovah, their God, ' i his rest. ' ' The portal through which Christianity found entrance to Europe was the open- hearted households of Lydia and the manly Roman jailer, who " believing in God with all his house," " was baptised, he and all his, straightway. ' ' From so natural and ordinary and human a thing as the family, such a supernatural and extraordinary and divine a thing as re- ligion sprang, and ever springs. It is diffi- cult, if not impossible, to conceive of re- ligion apart from the family. It is less diffi- cult to think of reconstituting the human race, and the relations which make the race human, if it had to begin over again, without the Church rather than without the home. Indeed, religion could more readily be repro- duced from the family, if the Church were lost, RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION than it could be maintained by the Church if the family were lost. Prior to, and the norm of, the Church, the family is, therefore, the birthplace of religion. The parent is the first priest. The children and household are the first congregation. The Holy Family is the great seal of Christianity. The mother and the child are its sign manual. The Church was cradled in the manger at Bethle- hem. The incarnation, for which that birth stands, is the all-inclusive, fundamental doc- trine and experience of Christianity, allying it with the Old Testament tenet of the crea- tion by one Creator. Biologically, the family is the primary cell of the whole social organism. Church and state therefore exist more for the family than the family for either. In its very first function the reproduction of life, the per- petuation of the race the family shares the creative prerogative of the life-giver. It ful- fils his fiat, " let us make man in our image. " Through the family, as through no other THE FAMILY human relationship, God continues to create male and female after his likeness to share his dominion. So the first act of religion is, or should be, to safeguard and promote the family in the fulfilment of its primary func- tions for the individual and social life. The first of these is birth the reproduc- tion of the race. It is declared to be such both by nature and revelation. Strong as the sex impulse is, the parental instinct is shown to be deeper. Ethnologists since Westermarck see this in the fact that the pairing of birds and the higher animals sur- vives longer than the sex impulse lasts, and until offspring are born and come to self- support. In all normal beings, parentage roots deeper than passion. The religious emphasis upon reproduction is impressed and re-impressed, from the story of the crea- tion, through the genealogies and heredities of Scripture, to the prophetic vision of the Holy City, " full of boys and girls playing in the streets thereof." 123 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION Here upon the very threshold of the family and within its holy of holies we 'are met by the hard facts with which our modern civ- ilisation faces the fulfilment of this primary family function. The cost of living in rela- tion to the reproduction of life, the restric- tion of the birth-rate and excessive infant mortality over against the divine blessing upon birth, the overwork of women nullify- ing motherhood, child labour stealing from the race its play-time and its years for growth, bad housing and inhuman city ad- ministration making good homes impossible, sex perversions and exploitations substitut- ing sacrilege for the sanctity of marriage and parentage these are as essentially the prob- lems of religion and the Church as of the economic and political sciences, as of legisla- tion and statesmanship. For generation conditions regeneration. The first birth very certainly limits the promise and the effect of the " second birth." Eeligion can serve its own ends no more surely or highly THE FAMILY than to assure every child a better chance to be born aright the first time so that it may be reborn more surely and to higher purpose. It was a clergyman of the Church of Eng- land, the Rev. Thomas Robert Malthus, who, in 1798, made the first thorough attempt to relate the birth-rate to the food supply. His purpose was to prove that " among the causes which impede the progress of man- kind toward happiness, the chief is the con- stant tendency in all animated life to increase beyond the nourishment prepared for it." Although his statistics by which he sought to establish mathematically the ratio be- tween the increase of the birth-rate and that of the food supply were abandoned by the author himself as untrustworthy, and although some of his arguments have been superseded by the criticisms of other econo- mists, this fundamental " Malthusian " re- lation between birth and food is so vital that it persists, not only in the discussions of the 125 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION economists, but among the most serious prac- tical problems involving marriage and fam- ily life. The initiative thus given to scientific in- quiry into the propagation of the race is now proceeding from a negative to a positive basis and aim. Daunted by what seemed at first to be a fixed limit to the sustenance of life, Malthus over-emphasised the depend- ence for progress upon the checks on the increase of population famine, war, dis- ease, vice, and the restraints of intelligence and the moral sense. It remained for Annie Besant, nearly a century later, publicly to justify and advocate personally applied arti- ficial checks upon the increase of the family. The little volume in which she did this bore the title, The Law of Population, Its Conse- quences, and Its Bearing upon Human Con- duct and Morals, and was circulated in many cheap editions among all classes of British people, especially the poor of East London, with such unexpectedly evil results that the 126 THE FAMILY authoress herself withdrew the booklet from circulation. From this negative attitude of despair, inquiries at last are turning toward a posi- tive attitude and a constructive purpose. But even yet the very consciousness and rec- ognition of the human right to be born aright are being evolved through the pressure of the burden imposed by the deficient upon the efficient. The new science of eugenics wisely places its first and greatest emphasis upon the ne- cessity and practicability of preventing par- entage among the unfit. It claims that the segregation of the feeble-minded and epilep- tic under proper public care will prevent the reproduction of nine-tenths of the unfit. It further asserts that defects and inefficiency due to social conditions might well-nigh be eliminated by effective protection from race poisons due to vice-diseases, alcohol, and some occupational infections. If " the ground-work of a real science of heredity ' 127 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION is confessed to be as yet " not sufficient to justify any active measures to guide the par- enthood of the worthy, " the possibilities of positive measures are nevertheless the hope of these pioneers who are patiently investi- gating the way toward this new human ad- vance. Some noteworthy practical recognitions have already been given this movement of scientists from unexpected quarters. The American stock breeders' faith in the suc- cess of their own efforts to improve the breed of animals is sufficient to inspire them to add a department of eugenics to the investi- gational work of their effective association. The first legislative recognition of a eugenic public policy was given by the British parlia- mentary measures of 1909, providing for a " maternity benefit " in the industrial insur- ance act, and the remission of 7s. 6d. for every child from the income tax upon the head of each family. The first ecclesiastical body to act with 128 THE FAMILY practical effect to this end is the Episcopal Cathedral at Chicago. With the approval of Bishop Charles P. Anderson, Dean Walter T. Simmer announces that no persons will be married there who do not present to the clergy a certificate from a reputable physi- cian certifying that they are physically and mentally normal and have neither incurable nor communicable disease. In announcing this decision Dean Sumner well says: "Surely one has only to make a survey of conditions as they exist to-day to be aroused to do something that there shall not be left in the wake of married life sterility, insanity, paralysis, blinded eyes of little babes, the twisted limbs of deformed children, physical rot and mental decay." The combined efforts of religion, educa- tion, and economics are nowhere seen to be so necessary to the safety of the individual, the protection and promotion of the family, and the progress of the race as in the regula- tion of sex relationships and the control of 129 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION the birth-rate. Economic statistics of the cost of living and of the ratio of births to it avail little without the sex education of the individual and the religious motive power behind that. Indeed, economic conditions adverse to family life always increase the temptations of men to gratify sex impulse outside of family relations, multiply illegiti- mate births, and result in desertions of wives and children and ever more divorces. Edu- cational efforts have only begun to be made through literature and school instruction on sex hygiene. As yet a very small proportion of youth are thus informed and safeguarded. Even such attempts as are made are due principally to philanthropic and religious impulses and agencies. How to introduce this delicate, difficult, and dangerous subject in our schools safely and effectively is a question that is still doubtfully and hesitat- ingly considered. It can and should be done. But however well it may be at- tempted in the schools, or through literature, 130 THE FAMILY it will be more than offset by adverse condi- tions in the home life of pupils and can effect little without parental co-operation with teachers. So the school and the printed page, however helpful, are not adequate of themselves. Only the family is closely and constantly enough in contact with the ado- lescent girl and boy to assure their training for self-control. Yet as a matter of fact, any direct and effective family effort to this end is sadly exceptional, and such as is at- tempted is almost always made under the stress of religious duty. If therefore either the home or the school does its duty in this respect, it will be due mainly to the initiative and impulse of religion. And religion must seek other than ecclesiastical agencies to do this most personal and yet vitally public work. Through its Sunday schools and parochial schools, through its pastors and father confessors, the Church may do much. But it requires the best efforts of statesman- ship, education, industry, and religion to do 131 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION the much more that needs to be done, in order to train not only every child, but adults as well ; to influence parents and home conditions ; to repress vice, and protect youth and the family from it; to maintain and develop economic conditions favourable to early marriage, and working conditions at least compatible with and not destructive of family life; and to secure such local and national administration of government as will make every neighbourhood, town, city, state and nation a federation of families. In such fellowships, families thus fed- erated will bring into closest co-operation the voluntary and official agencies of each local community; of infant welfare work with departments of health; of juvenile courts and their probation officers with ju- venile protective associations; of child-help- ing and home-finding societies with the legal supervision of all dependent and delinquent children by state boards of charities, county THE FAMILY courts, public guardians, police departments, and judges of juvenile courts. To fulfil its function in the nurture of child life and in the development of the adult through the fellowships, rest, and recupera- tion of home life, the family needs the most intimate and active co-operation of school and neighbourhood, local government and church. The child is not fully born until it comes to years of discretion. The. law does not regard the minor as a full-fledged indi- vidual. It holds the parents responsible for the child and appoints a guardian to take the parents' place when it is vacated, perverted, or abandoned. The child 's breach of the law is considered "delinquency" and is no longer classified as " criminal," like that of the adult. Dr. Horace Bushnell well de- scribes the child as held in the " parental matrix " of the home during the years of its minority. So vital and inevitable is the " law of the organic unity of the family " which he profoundly interprets and prac- 133 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION tically applies that lie is justified by human experience in claiming the most potent influ- ence over character to be that of the family life, which is unconsciously exerted and in- voluntarily received, especially during the first seven years of a child's life. Then the child becomes more like what the home life is than like what we tell the growing boy or girl to be. This fact either furthers or hin- ders the. work of both school and church, teacher and pastor, accordingly as the family either promotes or hinders the efforts of these. On the other hand, the family needs the help of both school and church, teacher and pastor, law and government, in protect- ing and promoting the development of the child and of the home life which shapes it. The sanctity of marriage and restriction of divorce, upon which the existence of the home depends, can be assured only as mar- riage is hallowed by religion and as it is de- fended by the law from wanton divorce and desertion. Teachers and pastors, legislators 134 THE FAMILY and public officials should consider them- selves as assistants to parents in the defence and upbuilding of the home and should be selected, recognised, and used by them as such. Public health officers and sanitary in- spectors should be considered as more con- stantly serving every family than the family physician. The school, with its provisions for instruction and play, is the public annex added to every private house. The public park, playground, and recreation centre are extensions of every family's backyard or walled-in inner court. The juvenile court and its probation officers, the parental school for truants and the reform school for delin- quents are the state-appointed helpers to parents, to aid them in the discipline of their children, or to take the parents' place when they fail. If the nurture of child life therefore is the prerogative of religion as truly as it is that of the family, then the church as surely as the home has the most vital interest and im- 135 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION perative duty in securing such public funds and officials as will make school and park systems, health and police departments, laws and courts tributary to and not subversive of the normal nurture of the child. Pastor and Sunday-school teacher should exercise watch and care over these public provisions for fostering the health, intelligence, recrea- tion, and morals of the children as vigilantly as they do their work within the Church. The kind and degree of influence exerted by the home are conditioned by the house. For the house not only shelters but shapes the family life for better or for worse. Bet- ter or worse housing makes all the difference between normal, abnormal, or sub-normal lives; between decency and modesty, where space enough is allowed, and indecency and immodesty, where over-crowding crowds out self-respect. Wherever shop work is taken into the house, normal family life is crowded out of it. When wives and mothers work away from home, housekeeping and the chil- 136 THE FAMILY dren pay the penalty. Transient rental of furnished rooms strips the family of the last vestige of home equipment. Taking board- ers into overcrowded family apartments de- stroys family unity and privacy, interferes with marital and parental confidences, almost always imperils virtue, and very often destroys it. What therefore can be more domestic or religious than to secure the proper housing of families such as will make homes possible and successful? Should the sanctuary of the Church be more sacred to its worshipers than their duty to secure right building ordinances and efficient building departments, garden cities, industrial villages, and decent lodging houses for family-less men and women? Should not every church, or local group of churches, be considered by their members as housing reform associations and playground promoters, just as legitimately as associa- tions of commerce are regarding this to be their function! Was there ever a more 137 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION monumental attestation of the religious qual- ity of a public service than characterises the framing and enactment of the new tenement house law of New York, which let no less than a million people out of dark and unven- tilated apartments into the light and air guaranteed them by the " new law tene- ments." If, as we have seen, the family furnishes the terms and types by which are revealed our relations to God and each other, then the preservation and development of the family is our primary religious duty. For how can religion itself be preserved and developed if the earthly type of it is lowered or lost? How can we even pray " Our Father which art in heaven, " if earthly fatherhood lacks all human suggestion of the divine! If we become so evil that we know not how to give good gifts unto our children, can we measure up " how much more " our Father which is in heaven gives good things to them that ask him? " My father's house " can mean little 138 THE FAMILY more that is homelike in another world than it does in this world. " The whole family in heaven " cannot fail to mean less to one who has suffered from a divided home on earth. So the family is not more dependent upon religion than religion is upon the family. The hope of the one is identified with that of the other. Therefore all that pertains to family life and promotes it is as religious as religion itself. 139 CHAPTER VIII SURVIVAL, AND REVIVAL OF NEIGHBOURSHIP THERE have been neighbours as long as there have been human beings on earth. It is hard to tell whether families or neighbour- hoods came first. In the earliest times sin- gle family groups could not safely live far enough apart to be separated at all. So peo- ple of the same kinship formed larger 1 ' households, ' ' which the tribal villages were called. From this rootage in kin there blos- somed the whole cluster of fragrant, fruit- ful relationships, reciprocities, personal and associated interactions, expressed by the fa- miliar words kindred, kind, kindness, the contents of which have enriched almost every human life and made every spot on earth where they have rooted and flowered more homelike and heavenly. 140 NEIGHBOURSHIP Neighbours were those next to each other, both in kinship and locality. To be next to another was to owe him something, and to have some rights which he was bound to respect. Neighbourly obligations were as sacred as those of religion. Indeed, the most ancient faiths found their highest expression in kinship and its neighbourship. Even after the tribes and kindreds began to mingle and merge with each other, neighbourliness survived. It is therefore our most primitive possession, our most ancient treasure, the heritage of the race, the one thing common to all who share the same origin, and to all of different origins who live near each other. By an instinct as primitive as this racial possession we shrink from losing it. It lin- gers, however, more among the poor than among the rich, more among the plain people than the so-called privileged class, more among those who have only a " common school education " than among those who are said to have a " liberal education." 141 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION Whatever other forms of association we sub- stitute for this old-time neighbourship, the loss of it is the tragedy of our new times. The substitution of artificial relations for this instinctive natural relationship accounts for this loss. It is due chiefly to the different ways in which most of us in mod- ern times make our living. In the olden times, people lived in small communities, where they all knew each other and neigh- bours lived and worked together. Neigh- bourship was partnership at least to some extent. Now modern industry has swept thousands, even millions, away from their old belongings. Immigration fortuitously mixes people of many languages and races, both in smaller and larger places, in country and city communities. The adult genera- tions of native and foreign people, thus lit- erally thrown together, cannot mingle with each other, and never would, were it not for their children's ministry of interpretation and mediation. They cannot understand each NEIGHBOURSHIP other's language, customs, antecedents, ideals, except as their children act their part as natural linguists and interpreters of the universal and the human. The stranger in the strange land is almost the commonest figure we meet, almost the commonest expe- rience the newest or the oldest of us have. For in many places where there are many more newcomers than long-stayers, the ex- perience of an Irish neighbour becomes com- mon, and " the longer one stays, the more of a stranger one becomes. ' ' The immigrant family is not more a stranger in a strange land than is the native country family which moves into the city. Both feel utterly lost and alone. Although more interdependent than ever, the subdivisions of labor and the divisive interests they introduce divide people of the same community more than ever. Other centres than those of the neighbourhood gather some together and isolate others. Seasonal or intermittent occupations, tem- RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION porary jobs, commercial depressions, occa- sional unemployment, and a general sense of the lack of permanency in the tenure of their industrial positions, pull settled families up by the roots and seldom leave them long enough in one place to take root again. Our manual workers are more and more tran- sient. Many among them are forced to be- come tramping families. More and more men leave their families for a whole season of work in distant parts of the country, or even in foreign lands. When times are dull, or the " season " is over, they try to make their way " back home." More and more of these multitudes of wandering men go back and forth from foreign lands to America, neither they nor their families being at home anywhere. The family can thus afford less household equipment. They have less at stake in living anywhere. What it means for the family group thus to lose attachments with others and live de- tached from their fellows, few of us who NEIGHBOURSHIP have never approached this experience can imagine. At first it may drive father, mother, and children closer together, but only at first. For after a little while, one or another member of the family craves a larger life than its own little home circle can afford. As its community of interests narrows and shrivels, each member of the family turns in- stinctively outward, or shrinks up within a hermit self. Instead of going together they go apart. Instead of having friends in com- mon, they form individual friendships, which other members of the family do not share. Americanised children often grow to be ashamed of their foreign-born parents. The education of the second generation be- comes the tragedy of the self-sacrificing first generation. Parents become more depend- ent upon even their little children, to inter- pret to them the strange language and strange ways of the strange land, than the children are dependent upon their parents. There is no more pathetic figure in America 145 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION than the immigrant mother desperately cling- ing to her youngest children to keep them all her own, while she vainly struggles to keep pace with her elder children, who are grow- ing away from her. Worse still, some of these children and youth who thus have to grow up alone even at home, or, still more tragically, away from home, yield to the temptations which appeal to the lonely life and feed the starved heart with the stones of impersonal relations and try to live on lusts instead of the bread of natural af- fection. Under these unnatural conditions, it is almost impossible for neighbourship to exist, or even for the family to survive. Racial antipathies array fellow immigrants against each otheir. Suspicions born of the igno- rance of strangers' ways keep at arm's length, or bring only within striking distance, the native and foreign-born citizens of the same town. These are some of the factors and forces 146 NEIGHBOURSHIP of our industrial era that destroy neighbour- ship and disintegrate families. Temporari- ness characterises every feature and pros- pect of such a population. The thought of staying in a tenement, or on the street, or in the district in which they have first landed, or where they are not succeeding well, is in- tolerable to those who have aspirations for themselves or their children. Truancy is as natural as the school is new to the pupil and strange to the parent. Neighbourly fellow- ship, the Sunday-school and church connec- tion, too easily seem not worth while, when the family expects to move in a month or two, or not later than next spring. No pro- vision is made by the parent for the play of the child, the pleasure of youth, the social relation of the sexes in a majority of homes. These recreations become as little and low, as unsatisfying and questionable, as danger- ously exciting and demoralizing as they are merely for the moment, or on the spot, as they are provided to catch only the loose 147 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION penny, the idle hour, and the purposeless and detached mind. Thus people lose their sense of belonging to anything or anybody, to the neighbourhood, the craft fellowship, the church membership, to citizenship, and at last to the family circle itself. But this is only one side of the picture. For the struggle of neighbourliness to sur- vive and express itself in forms adapted to our new industrial times is as brave and hopeful as the loss of it is pathetic and dis- astrous. Sometimes the old neighbourly re- lationship is transplanted bodily by the im- migrants themselves to the soil of the New World. When those who have been neigh- bours in the fatherland find themselves near each other in some American city, they form a brotherhood, usually under the sanction of their church, sometimes bearing the name of the town or district from which they emi- grated, or the name of its patron saint. Thus they struggle to perpetuate their old- time village or town fellowship. These 148 NEIGHBOURSHIP transplanted villages or town neighbour- hoods, however, are not destined long to sur- vive the rapid and irresistible changes in American industrial conditions. The sodalities and orders of the Catholic Church, the memberships and brotherhoods of Protestant Churches, the family-like fel- lowships persistently growing out of and around the Jewish synagogue, which is the most ancient type of the neighbourhood still surviving, perpetuate the spirit of neighbour- liness and give it more or less flexible, but long accepted, forms of development. The fraternal orders and insurance fraternities utilise the old neighbourly instinct to stand by each other in the rainy day, in order to cement a bond which binds together those of different race, language, creed, and condi- tion, perhaps more closely than was done by the old-time neighbourhood itself. The mod- ern clubs to a less degree furnish circles of association around commercial, intellectual, social, and political centres, which, however, 149 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION rarely survive the individual member's abil- ity to pay the dues. Trade unions come nearer to being a natural substitute, in some instances, for the old neighbourliness that has passed away. Though not lineal descendants from the old craft-guilds, they inherit their fra- ternity loyalty. Community of interest in the same crafts, the instinct of self-preserva- tion, which leads fellow craftsmen to feel that they must hang together, or they will hang separately, women's auxiliaries which add to some unions the social and charita- ble features of the family, the sole de- pendence upon the benefit of the union for refuge from losses by accident, sickness, lack of work, the lockout and strike, old age, and the death of the breadwinner ; these very human bonds and benefits make the labour unions the only possible neighbourship for many thousands of wage-earners in America, who would otherwise cease to be or to have real neighbours. 150 NEIGHBOURSHIP Parallel with these survivals of neighbour- ship, other efforts and agencies have arisen to revive it. These deliberate and definite efforts for the revival of neighbourhood rela- tionships chiefly centre about the public school, the public playground and recreation centre, the public library, churches of an in- stitutional type, and social settlements. No more hopeful movement to unify and advance local communities, and no more in- spiring prospect of doing so, is to be noted in America than that which seeks to use public school buildings as neighbourhood cen- tres. The common school is common ground. It is, as it always has been and will be more and more, that little patch of Mother Earth which belongs to all of us, to which every one, the newest immigrant as much as the oldest inhabitant, has equal claim, where all of us equally have common rights and feel at home more than anywhere else. The pub- lic school is therefore our greatest social asset as well as our only natural educational 151 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION equipment. It is our one great and only smelting furnace where the most " intract- able " ores of our cosmopolitan population can be reduced, by the steady glow of civic patriotism and neighbourhood fellowship, to unalloyed American citizenship. It is the common denominator for the solution of the problem of assimilating the diverse elements of our population into one body politic. It continues to be such long after the town meeting and the " centre church " ceased to be the centres of social unity which they once were, but could not continue to be under the increasing diversity of our political and re- ligious development. As such, both the pub- lic school systems and buildings should be put to their utmost use, not only educationally but socially, not only for the schooling of children but for the training of adults, the development of home and neighbourhood life, the safeguarding and promotion of the local community. Public school alumni associa- tions, parents' meetings, evening sessions, 152 NEIGHBOURSHIP assembly halls and roof gardens, art exhib- its, gymnasiums and recreational equipments and neighbourhood centre uses are new and invaluable assets in the possession of and at the command of every local community. Apparently in most places the only thing lacking to give the community the widest use of its own school property is the education of the Board of Education to a view of its func- tion as wide as the demands of the people's needs upon their schools, and to a manage- ment of school property that shall be more educational, sanitary, and social than jani- torial. We are only beginning to share the atten- tion we have paid to the education of our children with the equally serious problem of their recreation. We have been content merely with their physical exercise and have been stupidly obtuse to awakening and satis- fying the pleasurable interest of the child in his play and in the organisation of it. But at last we are coming to see, with dear 153 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION old Froebel, that the divinely implanted and imperious instinct for play is childhood's chief concern and the educator's most mas- terful asset. But it is far more than this, for neighbourhoods and cities are discover- ing the civic and social value of recreation centres for the well-directed play of the citi- zenship of to-morrow. Chicago clearly leads the world 's way in its emphasis upon this discovery. Not since old Borne 's Coliseum and the Olympic games of Greece has any city, ancient or modern, made such provision for the recreation of all its people, older and younger, as is to be found in Chicago's great playfields, surrounding its beautifully designed and well-equipped field- houses, which at a cost of over $12,000,000 of the taxpayers' money, have become the so- cial centres of its most cosmopolitan, densely populated industrial and residential districts. No better investment of a city's money was ever made than in this equipment for free and innocent play, without the deteriorative 154 NEIGHBOURSHIP and demoralising influences which the ex- ploiters of youth's natural recreative instinct have been allowed to coin into gold at the cost of character and health, even without competition with the vastly superior public resources. But this well-invested public ex- pense for recreational space and equipment imperatively demands the appropriation of enough more money and talent to secure the best trained and most capable management of playgrounds and direction of play that can be produced by our universities and tech- nical schools for social training. The National Playground Association by its leadership towards all these ends, by its practical promotion of their realisation in any community seeking its counsel and by its printed proceedings, which include the best literature on play, is doing a country-wide work of great educational, civic, moral, and religious value, as are the Young Men's and Young Women's Christian Associations, in the practical evangelism of their physical de- 155 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION partments. For, whoever and whatever helps children and youth, and adults also, to have a good time without being bad, is doing a great and manifold good, which is not only none the less, but all the more, religious for being so human. Equally with our schools and playgrounds, our public library buildings and branches are proving to be neighbourhood centres of great civic value. They share with the schools and the playgrounds the opportunity for widest usefulness. Where they are combined in the same building, the response of the people to each of them is all the greater. Both their opportunity and their utility as neighbour- hood centres demonstrate the necessity for trained children's librarians. Delivery sta- tions and loan collections of books in fac- tories, schools, churches, and settlements, are proving inexpensive and effective agencies of library extension. The public library, like the public school and playground, is open to all comers. Under expert, enterprising, 156 NEIGHBOURSHIP practical management, it can lift an ever in- creasingly large proportion of its neighbour- hood up to higher standards of taste and as- piration and fellowship. And besides the democratising of culture, it confers citizen- ship in that time-long, world-wide democracy of the " Eepublic of Letters." The neighbourhood church continues to hold up the common ideals of religion and generate the power for self-sacrificing serv- ice. But like the town meeting, it could not continue to be the neighbourhood centre for all the people as they became more diverse in religious antecedents and conviction. Like the political parties the churches of different faiths divide the people in separate fellow- ships. But because of that very division they often unite more closely together those within their respective communions. This compact group, if it sees and seizes its op- portunity, will serve its church and faith the best by serving its neighbourhood and the whole community most. By being tributary 157 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION to every human interest of its neighbours, they will be all the more impelled to be neigh- bours to the Church. But the Church must be a neighbour itself, in order to have the people of its community outside of its mem- bership, neighbourly to it. Neither the neighbourhood nor the Church can afford to lack or lose anything of neighbourliness which it can promote. One of the supreme tests which the Bible in both Testaments ap- plies is the question put to every one, the answer to which measures the religious value of the character of each: " Who is my neighbour? " Where neighbourliness has died out or never been born, or has been weakened by removals, or is difficult because of the differ- ences of race, language, religion, customs, and condition, there a social settlement finds its field to express the neighbourship that remains, revive that which wanes, or create that which is lacking. Whatever else it is or does, the settlement should be the neigh- 158 NEIGHBOURSHIP bourhood's own centre for the enjoyment, practical expression, and use of its neigh- bourliness. Self-initiated and self-governed neighbourhood organisations should be as much at home there as the supplementary clubs and classes organised and managed by the residents. They should work not to do things for, but with, all people of the neigh- bourhood. The settlement exists not to su- perimpose the ideals or standards of one class or locality upon another, but to help the neighbours develop their own ideals and standards. Its aim is to make neighbourli- ness more interesting, necessary, practicable, and valuable to every man, woman, and child. The settlement succeeds most and best when the neighbourhood comes to the conscious- ness of itself, awakens to the possibility of doing for itself, and realises its ambition to control itself and improve its conditions. In the effort to bring this about, this fact demonstrates itself, that neighbourship is best promoted when neighbours have recog- 159 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION nised their neighbourhood to be a part of the whole city. Likewise the interests of the whole city are best promoted by cultivating this neighbourhood consciousness among all the people of every locality. A sense of detachment of the part from the whole, or .the whole from any part, is as demoralising, belittling or paralysing to one as the other. People lose pride and power in their citizenship with the loss of their neighbourly relations to each other. And on the other hand, their neighbourly relations become interesting, influential, and so well worth while that they cannot afford to lose them, when they are made effective in pro- moting the progress of the whole city. Both of these tendencies have been strik- ingly illustrated in the political rehabilita- tion of the city council in Chicago. Seven- teen years ago the voters in most of the wards had lost their sense of responsibility for the character and qualifications of the aldermen they sent to the city council to leg- 160 NEIGHBOURSHIP islate for the entire city. Their local pride and neighbourhood self-respect in being properly represented there disappeared with their civic consciousness. The Municipal Voters' League, however, had faith in the people to believe that both could be revived. So they entered upon the struggle for the " long distance championship " by inform- ing the citizens and appealing to their loyalty to the home-rule principle, applied to ward politics. And the people did the rest. Ward clubs independently arose, within and be- tween party lines. Local improvement asso- ciations, women's clubs, parish societies, men's organisations began to play politics with a public purpose. As these local groups became conscious of a city-wide sphere and influence they began to take hold of the prob- lems of their home localities far more effect- ively than ever before. The political revolu- tion found the source of its sustained sup- port in the revival of the neighbourhood spirit. And yet the neighbourhood spirit 161 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION revived only at the call for civic loyalty. In no other way can the decisive victories of the people in electing the candidates endorsed by the Municipal Voters' League be accounted for. This revolution could not have taken place and maintained its increasing power during the past seventeen years, had it not been rooted in a quickened neighbourhood life throughout the city. Very notably did these two influences re- ciprocally develop each other in one of the largest family tenement-house wards in the city. The racial transformation of its immi- grant population had begun to set in. Northern Europeans began to disintegrate and lose heart in the maintenance of their ascendancy in the population. Judged by their representatives in the council, however, their political ideals and independence had not for several years been worthy of their personal character or standards of family life. But when the city's appeal for better representatives from this ward in the city NEIGHBOURSHIP council was put up to its citizens at Chicago Commons, they responded as promptly and effectively as those of any ward in the city. Swinging the independent vote as a balance of power, for sixteen years in succession they have selected and elected the better men for aldermen irrespective of party. And they have superseded the very worst men in the council by aldermen who have ranked among the very best in their work for the ward not only, but in their service of the whole city. Meanwhile people who found it possible to do this great service for the city were roused thereby to serve their own neighbour- hoods. Street paving, street lighting, and street cleaning were greatly improved. The ward got its share of new school buildings and secured one of the best of the new recrea- tion centres. Vicious resorts and gambling houses were suppressed. The number of sa- loons decreased. Recreations of a higher type were supported. While these things could not have been done without the influ- 163 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION ence of the ward's better aldermen in the council, it would not have had influential aldermen, and they could not have gotten the necessary support from their constituents, without the revived neighbourship which united the people of twenty-five different nationalities in organisations of their own to overthrow the bosses and ignore the ma- chines and take their own affairs into their own hands. The example set by this popula- tion of 70,000 immigrant working people in- spired similar efforts all over the city. If the plans for the city beautiful promoted by Chicago's commercial leaders and de- signed by its artist-architects furnish the goal toward which the development of the city shall work, the realisation of the greater and better Chicago will be made possible only by this revival of the family virtues, working through good neighbourship to make the city worthier of its homes, a better place for the next little child to be born in, and where its boys and girls may grow NEIGHBOURSHIP into a nobler manhood and womanhood. Neighbourhoods are the source of civic strength for progress, and the city is the source of inspiration for neighbourhood spirit and co-operation. If detachment re- sults in the apathy and demoralisation of both, then in the re-attachment of each to the other, and in the identification of both in the common cause, is to be found the open secret of successful democracy. To be friends in citizenship and neighbour- ship is necessary to both. Friendship among neighbours and citizens as such, in securing justice and opportunity for themselves and all others, is the real thing which is only be- ginning to supersede the perversion of it in politics. It is both the opportunity and obli- gation of religion to promote such friend- ship, because through it only can be obtained not charity alone, but that justice which, by giving equality of opportunity to the citizen, makes possible the progress of the city and the state. "If citizens be friends they have 165 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION no need of justice, but though they be just they need friendship or love also ; indeed, the completest realisation of justice seems to be the realisation of friendship and love also." The neighbourhood is to be regarded as an extension of the home and the Church, and is identified closely with both. As such it should be sacred both to the family and the religious instincts and interests in every community. Indeed the community of fam- ily interests and the communion of the Church fellowship are akin to those of the neighbourhood. In all three of these vital human relationships having in common and sharing in common are the sacramental signs of membership. All three, home, neighbour- hood, and Church, share a common religious origin, sanction, aim, and spirit. No one of them can fulfil its function without the co-operation of the others. They are inter- sphering circles whose circumference in- cludes most that is human and whose centre is divine. 166 CHAPTEE IX INDUSTRY AND RELIGION: THEIR COMMON GROUND AND INTERDEPENDENCE * INDUSTRY and religion with education state and solve the problem of human life when on common ground. Apart, much more in antagonism, they prove existence to be a tragedy. For what is industry? In human terms, it is the base-line, the rootage, the very condition of existence. And religion with education is the sky-line, the atmos- phere, the horizon of life, which makes it more than meat, and the body more than raiment, and without which life is not worth the living. Apart from religion and education, and the human value with which they invest toil, its process and its product, we have a body * This chapter appeared in The Merrick Lectures, 1907-08, under the title "The Social Application of Religion," Jen- nings and Graham, New York. 167 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION without a soul, lungs without any air to breathe, eyes without any light to see through, earth without atmosphere or sky. On the other hand, religion and education without industry give us only disembodied spirit, life on earth without the conditions of an earthly existence. The essentials of industry and religion, not their organisations, are our first consid- eration. Common ground is sought on which to consider their overarching ideals and their undergirding motives which hold the con- stituency of each together, reserving for sub- sequent inquiry the relations between the Church or other ecclesiastical expressions of organised religion and the agencies of em- ploying capital and of organised labour. Have religion and industry, in their largest and most essential human significance,- any- thing in common! What have they to do with each other? Is there any common ground where they can, and ought, and must stand together, if these two essential func- 168 INDUSTRY AND RELIGION tions and ideals of human life are to fulfil their part in the order of existence? In the foreground of our discussion lies the portentous fact that the religions of the western world are entering the second indus- trial century of human history. What that means we have scarcely begun to imagine. But the first century of modern industry stands in the clear. The nineteenth century was ushered into history by the whir of the power-loom which had then just fairly got to work. When the hand-loom ceased to beat the measured tread of all the centuries gone by, and the power-loom began to set the pace of modern life, then medievalism ended and times altogether new began. So much more rapid and radical than any other change through which civilisation has ever passed was the transformation wrought by the in- troduction of machinery, the concentration of capital, the establishment of the competi- tive order, and the subdivision and organisa- tion of labour that the appearance of those 169 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION new factors among men is recognised as " the industrial revolution." More than anything else which had yet been introduced into the world they began to weave human life itself not only into a new pattern but into a new texture. In less than thirty years the new machinery virtually revolutionised the world's life and began to change the very face of the earth. We are far enough away from that abrupt break with the past to inquire whither we are being borne on the still rising tides of the new times. Whither away is modern indus- trialism bearing human life upon its resist- less streams of tendency! From the course it took through its first hundred years we can discern at least the direction of the chan- nels through which its swift and tumultuous tendencies are forging their way into the times that are to be. With the French revolution the individual began to gain a new independence. That mighty revolt against the order of life which 170 INDUSTRY AND RELIGION had for centuries merged the one man in the mass, forever broke up the ancient sol- idarity. Out of the death of feudalism came the birth of democracy. The democratic in- dividual was being born politically when ma- chinery appeared to give him a new world to conquer. All the inherent and attendant forces of machine production conspired to intensify the independent individuality of those who exploited the tools of production. Even the many more who were left to work with their bare hands, without either the ma- terial or the machinery for producing their own living, were individualised as never be- fore. The serf was no longer tied to the soil. Liberty of movement came in for the first time with the world market, and labour could go where there was the greatest demand for it. The individual became the new unit of society. No sooner had the type of this new indi- vidual unit been fairly and firmly set than the same forces immediately began to put 171 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION together those who had been separated from their groups. The industrial process of re- integration set in. The forces resident in or centred about machine production and the subdivision of labour began to assert their superiority to the domination of the very individuals who created and until recently controlled them. The tendency of this new industrial society has been more and more from individual independence to the interde- pendence of man upon man, craft upon craft, class upon class, nation upon nation. Be- fore this century was half over industrial life swept away from unrestricted competition to a combination of capital and labour as inevi- table and involuntary as the pull of the moon upon the tides. From the personal main- tenance of the freedom of contract, the wage- workers were driven to the only possible exercise of that right by collective bargain- ing. Politically, the trend has been from local autonomy and state rights to national and international consolidation. Socially, 112 INDUSTRY AND RELIGION whole racial populations have been blended more and more in huge cosmopolitan, com- posite citizenships. The irresistible ground swell and tidal movement of the present quarter century has been away from indi- vidualism toward a new solidarity. Yet beneath all the overlying turmoil and friction, injustice, and menace attending this rapid and radical readjustment, there is cer- tainly developing a larger liberty at least for the class, a rising standard of living for the mass, a stronger defence against the aggres- sion of one class upon another, and a firmer basis and more authoritative power to make and maintain peaceful and permanent settle- ments of industrial differences. More slowly but surely there are developing legal forms and sanctions which not only make for justice and peace between employers and employes, but for the recognition of the rights and final authority of that third and greatest party to every industrial interest and issue the public. 173 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION All Christian and Jewish faiths are inex- tricably identified with these human factors of the industrial problem. Their destiny is inevitably involved in these irresistible tend- encies in our industrial democracy. Not for the first time is the power of the Christian ideal and faith being tested by its ability to solve the problems it has raised. For Chris- tianity has ever intensified, if it did not create, the industrial crises which attended its birth and rejuvenescence. The Christian evangel has all along held the ideal overhead and the dynamic within the heart which have inspired a divine discontent. Every now and then the Gospel strikes the earth under the feet of the common man, and he rises up and demands to be counted as one. Old John Wyclif's categorical imperative, " Father he bade us all him call, masters we have none," inspired Piers Ploughman, the first great labour song; John Ball, whose field preaching was a declaration of rights; and Wat Tyler, who led the peasants' strike. 174 INDUSTRY AND RELIGION Many another labour movement has inscribed no more nor less upon its banners than the Swabian peasants had upon theirs, a serf kneeling at the cross with the legend, " Noth- ing but God's justice. " The progress of the democracy has often halted in passing tem- ple and church, and listened at their oracles to hear whether they could express religious ideals and precepts in terms of industrial relationship ; whether it would let the worker be the man the free gospel and the free school have taught him to know himself to be. Protestant Christianity has from its very birth been persistently faced with the de- mand for the economic justice and industrial peace promised by the prophets and pro- claimed in the name of Christ. The Refor* mation of the sixteenth century must be ad- mitted to have fallen short, however excus- ably, of the great moral and social results which would have been its legitimate con- summation if its splendid beginnings could have been carried on and out. For it was 175 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION made possible, more perhaps than by any- thing else, by the social discontent of the oppressed peasantry. Luther's protest found its most fertile soil in those suffering from the oppressive industrial conditions under which people had been robbed and beaten to the point of revolt. The economic side of the great Eeformation is yet to be written. So far it has received scant em- phasis except in the radical literature of writers avowedly inimical to Christianity. At the rise of the evangelical movement in the eighteenth century the Wesleys had no sooner raised that standard of reality in re- ligion than they found themselves face to face with this same imperative industrial problem. The Methodist chapels and class meetings trained both the leaders and the mass of the British working people for their trade union movement, which was one of the incidental and most far-reaching results of the revival in England. The rise of the great middle classes to their activity in social 176 INDUSTRY AND RELIGION reforms is due to this same evangel which brought the sunrise of a new day out of the leaden skies of eighteenth century England. Further, the rise of the factory system sud- denly put the Christianity of the nineteenth century to the test of its supreme crisis. It was the evangel of the seventh Earl of Shaftesbury, of Frederick Denison Maurice, and of Charles Kingsley, which, more than the Duke of Wellington's battalions, saved Great Britain from the revolution threatened by the Chartist movement to the evolution which has sanely and surely developed Eng- land's magnificent legislative, municipal, and social progress in the last quarter century. The present crisis in industrial relation- ship tests the capacity of the Christianity of the churches to adapt itself to the modern conditions of life, and marks the point at which it will either make another great ad- vance or suffer a sharp decline. It must find terms of economic and industrial relationship in which to express and impress its sanc- 177 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION tions, if it is to survive, much more guide and dominate life in this industrial age. And our system and methods of industry must find terms of religious spirit and fellowship in which to justify their claim to be forces making for righteousness and for the prog- ress of the race. This interdependence of religion and industry states the problem of finding common ground, on which they make it possible for each other to fulfil their essential function, a common ground upon which religious industrial life may become actual in this age of the world. There are at least three human interests upon which both industry and religion set their value. At three points the industrial and religious valuations must either find a common denominator or be fatally exclusive of each other. Eeligion and industry test each other by the valuation which each puts upon every human life, upon the standard of living, upon union through sacrifice as essential to progress. 178 INDUSTRY AND RELIGION Upon each human life religion has ever placed a divine valuation. In both the Jewish and Christian faiths God identifies himself with each single self, by creating man in his own image and likeness and by standing in between each life and self-neglect or the aggression of others. When the king of Israel was self-convicted of blood-guilti- ness in sending a common soldier to his death, he cried out, as though he had struck at the very life of God, l ' Against thee, thee only, have I sinned. " The Roman who was capable of coining the sentiment " Nothing that is common to man is foreign to me," was also capable of divorcing his wife be- cause she did not expose to death the girl- baby born in his absence, so disappointed was he that the child was not a boy. Yet at that very time Christianity began to invest every life with such a divine sanctity that the law of every Christian nation has ever since gotten in between, not only the parent and the child, but between even the mother 179 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION and the unborn babe. In America we put a valuation upon every child so great that we can afford to make the school tax heavy rather than to have any boy or girl grow up uneducated. The right to life is so sacred that every community in Christendom bears the burden of providing food, clothing, and shelter to every helpless person, no matter how useless to self or others such an one may be. More than by any speech, symbol, or act of man, " the cross " sets God's esti- mate upon the value of every man, woman, and child. And it has imposed upon the re- ligious conscience that sense of the worth of a life which is expressed in what we call " the burden of the soul." How then does the industrial valuation of the same life accord with the religious value of the soul? Our economists, indeed, esti- mate each able-bodied working-man's life to be worth at least two thousand dollars to the working wealth of the nation. But in shame- less inconsistency with these estimates of 180 INDUSTRY AND RELIGION our religions, ideal, and economic valuation stands the industrial depreciation of the value of a human life. Let the price-mark on a life be set by the overwork of women, with which the courts are interfering to pro- tect the nation and the race from the de- terioration of their offspring. Let the insa- tiable waste of child labour be measured by the instinct of self-protection which forces nations to protect themselves from the in- dustrial depletion of the very stock of the race. Let the frightful industrial casualties in America sound the depths of our own dis- regard of human life and safety by the lists of the dead and wounded, disabled and miss- ing, which in some industries exceed the casualties of the deadliest battle-fields of our worst wars. Let our conscienceless indiffer- ence to the grievous burden imposed by the breadwinner's death be arraigned by our prolonged refusal to distribute that burden of supporting the dependent families of the slain or disabled workers as it is distributed 181 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION in other lands between the owners of the in- dustry, the taxpayers of the state, and the wage-earners. What makes the workaday life a tragedy is the hopelessly inconsistent disparity be- tween the valuation which the industries and the religion of the same people put upon the same life. The claim of religious people to love the " soul," seems the cruelest hypoc- risy when identified with the heedless care- lessness for the very life of the same person. It would seem that to make good its claims to bearing the burden of souls, religion must find concrete measures of industrial protec- tion in which to express its care for the lives of men. And yet, until very recently, the working people of America have been left alone by the influential constituencies of the churches to make their hard and heroic struggle for self-protection. First in the field, hardest at work has organised labour been to protect the religious and educational sanctity cf each working life, to regulate or 182 INDUSTRY AND RELIGION suppress child labour, to shorten the hours and improve the conditions of women's work. But efforts of others should not be for- gotten. The splendid initiative of the Earl of Shaftesbury in placing the factory acts on the statute books of England two genera- tions ago has led men and women from all classes ever since, and never more than now, to unite to protect and enhance the value of life. More and more the forces of religion and civilisation are uniting in such concerted movements as the National Child Labour Committee, the Consumers' League, the Visiting Nurses' Association, and many other voluntary agencies to co-operate with fac- tory inspectors, truant officers, and juvenile courts in the enforcement of just and humane legislation. Thus the sanctions of religion and education upon the value of a life are being translated in terms, economic and in- dustrial, by every protected piece of ma- chinery which keeps the fingers on the hand and the hand on the arm ; by all the hygienic 183 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION and sanitary conditions provided for in shops; by all the efforts for industrial in- surance ; by all the life-saving appliances and conditions on the waterways and the rail- ways of the land ; and wherever safety is in peril in the working world. The standard of living affords another common ground on which religion and indus- try are found to be interdependent. In rais- ing the standard of living to be compatible with the value of life, both industry and re- ligion realise their ideal. By holding over every one's head the ideal of what a human life was meant and made to be, religion lifts the standards of that life, creates a divine discontent with anything less and lower, and stirs men to struggle singly and together to maintain and advance a rising scale of living which comes to be as dear as life itself. The response of industry to this ideal of religion is the demand for the opportunity to earn such a livelihood as will make the realisation of that idea possible. The struggle of work- 184 INDUSTRY AND RELIGION ing people to raise and maintain their stand- ard of living is due to the best that is in them and not to the worst. " If this is the kind of a man or woman religion and education teach me to be," the worker naturally con- cludes, l ' I should be given the chance to earn the living of such a man or woman. " Inter- preted in human terms " the standard of living " means the rest which the son of a working mother thinks she should have in her old age, the exemption which his wife should have from wage-earning in order to mother his children, the schooling his boy or girl should get before going out into the working world. The rising standards of living are due to the ideal which religion has taught us all to have of manhood and woman- hood, fatherhood and motherhood, wifehood and childhood. Employers who have too long and too widely united to hold down and retard the rise in labour's standard of living, have more and more to their credit many and varied unself- 185 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION ish efforts and achievements in lifting the standards of labour's livelihood and opening to ever-increasing multitudes the opportunity and means of realising it. Both among em- ployers and employes the struggle to achieve the rising standard of living for the class and the mass should be sanctified by re- ligion. It should be no small part of our personal and collective religious aim and effort not only to protect our fellow men from lowering the standard of their living by establishing a minimum wage, but also to help them raise it, and keep it rising, above a mere living wage, as far as the con- ditions of the trade or craft will allow. Un- til we thus translate our religious love of souls into pur economic care for selves, religion will mean very little to those who are in the struggle for life and livelihood in an industrial age. A third common ground on which religion and industry are seen to be interdependent is defined by the fact that both have taught 186 INDUSTRY AND RELIGION men to sacrifice in order to unite for the com- mon good. Have we not been teaching, drill- ing, disciplining our men, women, and chil- dren at home, at school, and at church; by their loyalty to family, party, patriotism, and faith to sacrifice self and stand together for the common good of all or any of them? Have we not invested with patriotic and even religious sanctity those who sacrifice them- selves for " their own " folk, fatherland, or faith! How then do these virtues suddenly become vices, these heroes and heroines all at once become sordid conspirators when they combine, stake everything dear to each, risk all, and stop short of the loss of nothing, in united action to save their own or their fellow workers' standard of living? They may do so in unwise or even unjust ways, but we submit that what is by common consent considered wholly meritorious in every other sphere for self-sacrifice cannot be wholly reprehensible in that of industrial relationship where it is hardest and costliest 187 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION to exercise the virtues of altruism. What is attributed to the very best in men elsewhere cannot be attributed to the very worst in men here. The * l union ' ' of labourers cannot dif- fer, per se, morally and as an economic ne- cessity from a combination of capitalists or the communion of members of the same re- ligious faith. If, at this age of the world, combination is necessary to success, where is the justice in forcing these competitors of ours to do their business with us as though they lived in that former age of the world when each one could mind his own business without combining with others? It looks then as though the industrial world has outgrown our moral sense, as though our ethics are hopelessly belated, for we seem to want to make our profits under the modern method of combining all available resources, while at the same time insisting that our fel- low workers shall deal with us under the old outworn and discarded system of individual industry. That is, we want others to do unto 188 INDUSTRY AND RELIGION us as we are not willing to do unto them. It looks as though some of us were being tried and found wanting. Of " times that try men's souls " we speak as though they were to be dreaded and yet belong to the " heroic age," but when we look back upon them from safe distance, we are generally forced to confess that the " times " were not more out of joint than that the " souls " our own or others' needed to be tried. These war times in industry are indeed to be dreaded, but like all great crises that turn the course of history or personal experience, they too are heroic. But the heroism should not be confined to the strikes and lockouts of the irrepressible conflict. Industrial peace should have its victories at the hand of religion, no less renowned than war. The cross and its sacrifice, if they are to mean anything in this industrial age, must be translated by religion into terms of indus- trial conciliation, intercessorial mediation and sacrificial service, which will bring the 189 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION pact of Christ 's own peace in human brother- hood out of fratricidal strife. Industry has its cross as surely as religion. There is no other way to the crown for either than the passion of sacrificial service. Sac- rifice not only for self but for others, is the only way by which either the strong or the weak can be crowned with that equality of opportunity which is the God-given right of manhood. Until industry takes up its cross with the self-sacrificing passion of religion, neither labourer nor capitalist, employe nor employer, can really come into his own. Un- less religion transforms its cross into terms of economic value and of industrial relation- ships it can never hold its supremacy over human life in an industrial age. Industry and religion must unite if either is to realise its ideal or function in human life. For they are interdependent, and only on the common ground of their community of human inter- ests can they ever bring " the new heavens and the new earth ' ' which God has promised to man through them. 190 CHAPTER X OKGANISED INDUSTKY AND ORGANISED KELIGION A New England mill manager did some thinking out loud in the hearing of the writer to this effect: " I am manager of the mill and a member of the Church in my town. As mill manager I have the livelihood and workaday lives of over 2,000 men and women employes and their families under my care and influence. As church member I bear my share of responsibility for the spiritual wel- fare of these and other fellow townsfolk. And yet the mill and the Church have too lit- tle to do with each other to aid me in fulfill- ing my responsibility in each for the other. Have I not a right to expect my church to help me work for my mill people? Should I not be able to make the mill more help- ful to the Church than by contributing 191 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION directly or indirectly toward its financial support? " Another loyal churchman and generous giver to social and church work for improv- ing living and working conditions found him- self in this dilemma. The secretary of the manufacturers' association, to which this employer belongs, attacked the social work- ers for promoting legislation protecting em- ployes from dangerous machinery because ex- pensive to the manufacturers. Its pro- moters defended themselves and their pro- posed laws on the ground that existing con- ditions subverted the aims and success of religious and social work. " I find myself paying two sets of people to undo each other's efforts, while the industrial and re- ligious interests with which I am personally identified are arrayed against each other. " These are concrete statements of the de- mand for the help, and the protest against the harm, which organised industry and or- ganised religion may be to each other. If, ORGANISED INDUSTRY then, industry and religion have so much in common and are so interdependent in fulfill- ing their essential human functions, should there not be less antagonism, or less of a sense of irrelevancy, and more sympathetic co-operation between the organisations of both? If so, what shall it be? What may religious and industrial organisations do for and with each other? First of all they may secure and exchange information of the actual conditions under which work is being done and the workers are living in any locality or community. It is the business of the churches, of employing corporations, and labour unions to know just what these conditions are. It is to the inter- est of each of these organised interests to be thus informed. Publicity is good public pol- icy. Secretiveness is worse only than igno- rance of, or indifference to, the facts. Each interest owes it to itself, and to the other, to know and make known whatever is condition- ing life for better or worse. If the churches 193 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION ignore these facts they stultify their own prayers, preaching, aims, and hopes. If em- ploying industries pay all attention to the material interests of their plants and prod- ucts and none to the human factors of their problem, they are bringing back upon them- selves disasters which their neglect or injus- tice has brought upon others. If labour or- ganisations heed not the conditions of the trade and market which their employers are facing, as well as the working and living con- ditions under which they themselves live and work, they are in no position to get or keep their rights to bargain for their members or with their employers. Labour organisations have been foremost in calling public attention to and demanding the recognition of the conditions against which their members are struggling. In- deed, they are to be credited with forcing the observation of these facts both upon employ- ers and upon political economists. Had they not done so political economy might have 194 ORGANISED INDUSTRY continued to be the " dismal science " which so long faced practical conditions with ab- stract theories; employers would have reck- oned less with the cost of living in fixing wages; and legislation would have been slower and feebler in enacting laws against child labour, the overwork of women, unpro- tected dangerous machinery, and occupa- tional diseases ; laws for the minimum wage, industrial insurance, and old age pensions. Employing corporations are following quickly and fully in studying conditions and basing far-reaching and effective policies for preventing injury, assuring safety or insur- ing against loss, furnishing facilities and comforts, encouraging thrift and community interests, and promoting welfare and prog- ress. These things are and can be attained by industrial organisations, seldom by indi- viduals, however well disposed. Only or- ganised effort is adequate to produce them. Some of them require the united effort of 195 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION employers' and employes' organisations working together in effective co-operation. Heavy have been the losses, disastrous the delays due to the refusal of employers and employes to exchange their knowledge of facts. Complaints of the conditions existing at the Chicago Stock Yards were made by their employes, but were unheeded both by the companies and the public, years before the government investigation warned the world against them and inflicted the national scandal and loss. The dynamiting and vio- lence which have inflicted upon organised labour its deepest disgrace and damage might have been prevented had it not been for labour's distrust of all sources of infor- mation outside its own ranks. Is it not possible yes, even probable that if a third party commanding public confi- dence were known to be accurately informed of living and working conditions, the other two parties directly at issue would have less occasion for distrusting, misunderstanding, 196 ORGANISED INDUSTRY and fighting each other? Would not each of them fear an informed and aroused public opinion more than they do each other? Would they not be more inclined to get to- gether by mutual concession than to stand out against each other in the face of the facts thus firmly held between them by those friendly to both? Is this not the function of religion thus to anticipate and prevent in- justice and discontent, misunderstanding and strife? Dramatically did the first such survey of industrial and social conditions make its entrance upon the arena of our contem- porary religious life and action. It was after the despairing East London mission- aries had raised their " exceeding bitter cry " over the conditions under which lives were lost in that great and terrible city wil- derness, that the British Empire and the civilised world were startled by their little pamphlet bearing the arousing title The Bit- ter Cry of Outcast London. Amidst the 197 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION many hysterical responses immediately elic- ited by it, one man went to work like a mas- ter workman. He was Charles Booth, the merchantman shipper whose ships were car- riers of British industries across many seas. He alone set out upon a voyage of discovery to find the facts as to the conditions of life and labour in London. As one after another of his seventeen volumes appeared, during the twenty years of research, such move- ments as these met the complex situation as it came to be better understood. The social settlements arose. The Salvation Army was marshalled. The London county and other borough and county councils developed their reconstruction work. Garden cities grew. Town-planning evolved from the new science of cities. In great succession the industrial acts of Parliament carried on and out the factory acts of the last century and began to transform and supersede the poor-laws of nearly four hundred years. Before the bar of public opinion, Mr. Booth and other in- 198 ORGANISED INDUSTRY quirers for the facts of social conditions were cited to give the evidence upon which parliamentary elections turned and imperial policies were determined. In America, the Pittsburgh survey led the progressive people and agencies of that city to initiate far-reaching movements which are destined to improve the conditions of life and labour. The United States Steel Corporation instituted an inquiry of its own into working conditions in its plants, and its stock-holders endorsed the order to abolish the seven-day week and the recommendations to reduce the twelve-hour day and to guard against over- speeding, accepting more direct responsi- bility for knowing and improving the sani- tary, economic, and social interests and rela- tions of the employes. The local surveys made for the Men and Eeligion Forward Movement have laid the basis for the churches' new interest in and understanding of their fields; for new enterprise and poli- cies in their work; for new co-operation be- 199 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION tween themselves and with public and volun- teer agencies. Already the churches of many localities have found that they could achieve together what they could not have attempted apart. Moreover, the federation of all the churches could fearlessly face local conditions as no group of local churches did, or perhaps could, do. The way in which the issue between the steel workers and churches at South Bethle- hem, Pa., over Sunday labour and other mal- adjustments was handled is in evidence. The declaration of industrial faith and policy by the Federal Council of the United Churches of Christ set a standard for all the churches such as no single church or small group of churches could have set for themselves. The churches, therefore, can discover the living and working conditions of their own communities for themselves and others. The more they co-operate in so doing the wider, more accurate and authoritative, and 200 ORGANISED INDUSTRY the more practically useful will be their sur- veys of conditions and their efforts to im- prove them. The judicial impartiality with which these facts must be gathered and interpreted should also characterise the attitude of the churches toward the organisations of both labour and capital. Inconsistent with this fidelity to fact and judicial judgment is it for churches and ministers to ally them- selves with one more than the other. De- nominational committees or departments should bear a title which includes both. " Industrial " is a better surname for the committee or department than " labour. " " Fraternal delegates " are as much needed by employers' associations as by federations of labour. Ministers, who are not crafts- men, have no more claim or right to belong to a labour union than to a manufacturers' association. In either case it is either dis- ingenuous or emptily honorary. The Church stands for all, if for any. Its ministry is 201 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION mediatorial. As such the minister should refuse to be classified, should be a mass-man not a class-man, should stand in between, and by the fatherhood of God declare " All ye are brethren. " Such intermediary position and attitude of the churches allow of no weak, non-com- mittal, timidly compromising spirit. They call for a stern sense of justice, a squaring to facts, a peace-making, with emphasis upon the making. It means insistence upon fair play, and the free speech and the full hearing of the other side, without which nothing is fair. It sometimes involves a demand for the impartial enforcement of law, and at other times a protest against the abuse of the police power to silence the voice or crush the rights of the weaker, poorer party, or the one taken unawares or unprepared. To these ends " free-floor " discussions are sometimes valuable. When and where demanded to give voice to the silenced, to assert and maintain the freedom of speech 202 ORGANISED INDUSTRY and the right of public assembly, the Church cannot consistently deny the claim of the wronged or the weak. But there are many risks and more hard experiences involved in assuming responsibility for the use and abuse of this carte blanche bill of rights. If each one's claim is limited to three minutes, we can all stand anything three minutes, especially if the others must endure the exer- cise of that liberty by us. But discussions which ring with reality at first tend to become spectacular at last. Fearless, frank utterance of sincere convic- tion plays to the galleries after a while in re- sponse to the applause which it elicits from others. It proves to be as difficult to keep all sides on the floor, as to keep one side from monopolising it. When those who should be participants become spectators; when those who should stand up for their own convic- tions and answer back those who attack them, only urge the loose talker to be wilder ; when the worse such men become the better they 203 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION are liked for the fun they give the others, then the free floor becomes a circus-ring, the speakers are clowns, and the chairman, how- ever sacrificial his sincerity may be, becomes a mere ringmaster. So whenever the free- dom becomes license, and the floor becomes a stage, and the speech becomes unreal, stop it. For it has fulfilled its purpose and is now undoing the good it has done. Good history may be poor policy. Begin over again with a smaller group, all of whose members seek light, or plan to carry out in action some line of talk that can be translated into deed. If what was at first taken seriously comes to be facetious and insincere, let it not give room to cynicism. The real struggle goes on, grim, hard, hand to hand, just beyond this mimicry. Doubt not the need of inter- position, human and divine. Here, then, if anywhere, is the world's call for the Church's religion of intercession and vicarious sacrifice. If there is a cross, here is where by its sign we conquer or it is con- 204 ORGANISED INDUSTRY quered. Is there anything more subversive of what religion is bound to do for every man, woman, and child, than to allow the worst passions to be aroused by injustice, than to fail to prevent fratricidal strife, than to stand aside and let organised industry be organised warfare! Does this ministry of mediation, this at- titude of interposition, this intercessorial study of concrete situations, general condi- tions, and authoritative facts, transcend the capacity of the modern Church? It surely does surpass the courage and faith, the influ- ence and resources of the divided churches. But it did not daunt the Church when more united. Then it interceded between warring nations and races. Then it interposed its truce between armies in battle array. Then it mediated the very " peace of God " on earth. Even now when the divided churches temporarily unite, much more permanently federate, their cross of self-sacrifice is still the sign by which they conquer. The united 205 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION religious forces are still adequate to meet and master the situation in almost every community. But their mastery is only that of truth, no longer that of asserted authority. It is the mastery of authoritative facts, pa- tiently, practically, intelligently applied to concrete situations that wins religion's way. New bases are being laid, new fulcrums are being fixed for the levers of religion 's old power, in the surveys, the parish policies and the federated efforts which the churches are making on their local fields and within the denominational and national spheres of ac- tion. In the enactment and enforcement of laws the churches should take their full, large share with and through the National Child Labour Committee, the national and local Consumers' Leagues, the Association for Labour Legislation, and the Woman's Trade Union League. Collectively by parish, de- nomination, and inter-denominational agita- tion and education they can watch or initiate, influence and help enact laws for protecting 206 ORGANISED INDUSTRY and promoting the interests of working men, women and children. They can, without be- ing partial to mere class interests, unite with employers or with organised labour, either or both, in securing legislation clearly de- manded by public welfare. How well worth while it is to promote and join in such co- operative efforts was strikingly demonstrated in the success of four Illinois commis- sions. Fire protection of mines from any recur- rence of the Cherry mine conflagration and the revision of the mining laws of Illinois were accomplished by miners, operators, and three representatives of the public, without opposition from the legislature and without hindrance from a large strike in the industry. The law to prevent occupational diseases was formulated and passed in the same way. Labour's representatives on the employers' liability commission proposed this toast to the principal employer serving on the com- mission : 207 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION " Here is to Charles Piez! One of the best fel- lows of our long remembrance ; one of the finest of Chicago's citizens; one of the most unselfish of Illinois captains of industry ; whose good fellowship has been our good fortune and pleasure; whose sterling citizenship has been our inspiration ; whose unselfish, public-spirited service has been the glory of a, worthy life. All hail, Charles Piez! " At the final session of the Illinois Indus- trial Commission for protection from dan- gerous machinery, the labour members sur- prised the others by presenting a little sou- venir with these generous sentiments : 11 We believe that the spirit of fairness mani- fested by the members of the commission repre- senting the employers emphasises greatly the value of conference and a discussion of our problems to the end that we may find the common ground upon which both sides may stand without sacrifice of either principle or self-respect." Appreciative of " those unselfish repre- sentatives of the great third interest the public," the working men added this tribute: 208 ORGANISED INDUSTRY " Under less favourable circumstances the duty imposed on this section of the commission would have been to hold the balance of power, to act as mediators in an effort toward harmony. In the presence of such able men much of this spirit of mutual confidence was born because in the pres- ence of such gentlemen the evil spirits of sharp practice, undue influence or mutual distrust would have fled abashed. " Was not this a coming of " the kingdom of righteousness, peace and joy in the holy spirit ' ' 1 Would it not have been the func- tion and glory of the churches to have prompted and promoted such a translation of the faith and hope of the Gospel into the deeds of men and the act of legislature? Could anything but the joint influence of or- ganised industry and organised religion have brought about such a triumph of the spirit of God? Let the churches organise within their de- nominations to educate their own fellowship. Let the Social Service Commission of the RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION Federal Council of the Churches of Christ in America organise, represent, and express their interdenominational attitude and ac- tion. Then in the still larger fellowship em- bracing the Jewish and Eoman Catholic faiths, there will be the organised religion to co-operate with the organised industry of the American people for the peace and prog- ress of our great democracy and for the com- ing of the " kingdom of the Father." CHAPTER XI CITY AND CHURCH RE-APPROACHING EACH OTHER THE city and the Church have not always been friends, but they have never been strangers. The Church was born in the city. It was christened with the very name of " town-meeting. " Its membership was so identified with citizenship that those beyond the Church's pale were called " pagans, " the Latin term for countrymen. Its organisa- tion conformed more to the type of the cities out of whose soil it grew than to that of either temple or synagogue. Next to the terms of family relationship, those of po- litical and civic significance were used by its founders to describe how its members were related to each other, and the function it was founded to fulfil. It was a " common- ail RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION wealth," a " kingdom," a " holy city," the " city of God," the " new Jerusalem." This identification of the Church with the city is the most astonishing vision of the seers of Scripture. It must have seemed a wilder flight of the imagination to the con- temporaries of the prophets and the apostles than it does to us. Yet notwithstanding Je- rusalem which stoned the prophets, Corinth which corrupted the Church, Athens which ignored Paul, and Rome which persecuted the saints, the last of the apostles so iden- tified the city with the Church, in the final glimpse he caught of the triumph of the Christian faith, that he even lost sight of the temple when he saw " the city." Aggressions upon each other's rights and functions have often made Church and city enemies. And when one was not dominated by the other, they maintained an armed truce. Nevertheless, even when fleeing from that domination, our Pilgrim forefathers CITY AND CHURCH brought city and Church to a pact of peace, which has never yet been broken, either by law or war, in the new world. At the centre of every one of their New England towns they planted their " centre " church and the " town-meeting, " those units of the most absolute spiritual and political democracy the world has ever seen. The Church was the religious fellowship of the citizens. The " town-meeting " was the civic fellowship of the Church members. Ships were not more necessary to bring the discoverers and colonists to the new world than were these " centres " for political and spiritual fel- lowship and action essential to hold them together. So interdependent were they that they grew up together like the intertwining vines, representing the three pioneer churches, or the three towns they estab- lished in Connecticut, on the great seal of that state. Whether the churches twine around the towns, or the towns around the churches, is left to each citizen to RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION imagine, now one way and then perhaps the other, as changing circumstances or moods incline. But even in New England, town and Church soon began to lose the bond "between their two interdependent sources of the peo- ple 's liberty and power. Always afraid even to approach the blunder of the organic unity between the Church and state, from which their fathers had fled in terror, the people soon began to separate them in fact as in form. As the population scattered and grew diversified, the colonists could not longer unite at any single spiritual centre. Party spirit also broke up the unity of the " town- meeting. " And so Church and town, though never hostile, became so distinct and separate with the years as to be far less helpful to each other than they need to be, if they fulfil their highest function in the people's life. Never, and nowhere as in America, have the Church and the town had less to do with each other. Their organic separation grew into CITY AND CHURCH a sense of detachment, if not into a decree of divorce, almost equally demoralising to each. Meanwhile the urban age was dawning. The municipalised man was taking the field of action. The city-state once more became ascendant. De Tocqueville registered a way-mark by which we may measure how rapidly and rad- ically the change in our population has taken place. Writing in 1830 when New York numbered only 202,000 citizens, our friendly critic prophesied : " I look upon the size of certain American cities, and especially upon the nature of their population as a real danger which threatens the future security of the democratic republic of the new world. And I venture to predict that they will perish from this circumstance unless the government succeeds in creating an armed force which, while it remains under the control of the majority of the nation, will be independent of the town population and able to repress its excess/' 215 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION But the reason for this reassurance sounds more strangely than his dark prophecy. For he asserts : " The country is no wise alarmed by them, be- cause the population of the cities has hitherto ex- ercised neither power nor influence over the rural districts. " Yet now, in less than one hundred years since that fact could be recorded, the urban type of life, the city standards of living and condi- tions of labour are superseding rural cus- toms, manners and methods and transform- ing the countryside into a vast suburb whose populations share every year more and more of the facilities and advantages, not to say the perils, of city life. " The twentieth cen- tury opens with two distinguishing fea- tures," Frederick C. Howe affirms, " the dominant city and a militant democracy." Closing his luminous volume on The City the Hope of Democracy with this portentous statement, he opens it with the assertion, CITY AND CHURCH which has only just begun to startle us out of our security, that " the distrust of the democracy "las long dominated our municipal law and literature. " Two other facts, however, become more impressive with each current year: The fact that both city and Church are learning that neither succeeds if the other fails, and the fact that they are moving toward each other. The city fails, and, failing, defeats the Church if without religious reverence and passion to serve the people. And the Church fails to accomplish its full mission without the inspiration of working for civic ideals, and without the co-operation of the body politic. That Church and city are moving toward each other is equally obvious. This reborn civic spirit is not only raising political and administrative standards toward higher ideals of integrity and efficiency, but is also extending the function of the city, town, county, and rural community further and fur- 217 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION ther into the field once claimed and exclu- sively possessed by the Church. This tend- ency of the body politic to assume and exer- cise prerogatives hitherto claimed and ful- filled solely by the Church raises grave ques- tions. What does it mean that the state is more and more, and the Church is less and less the educator of the people, the adminis- trator of alms to the poor, the protector of the orphan and the widow, the healer of the sick, the maker of peace, the dispenser of justice, and the great frame-work within which we live and move and have our being? How does it come to pass that the state and not the Church is the great builder? What does it mean that the greatest structures are no longer cathedrals and churches, but courts of justice, state capitols, city halls, marts of trade? The really great buildings which have weathered the centuries and stand as the great memorials to the past were built by the Church. Why do the peo- ple more and more organise and operate CITY AND CHURCH their educational, charitable, reformatory, and fraternal co-operation through the town, the city, the state, and the nation, and not through the Church only, as they used to? Does this mean that the Church is losing its function, that it is being superseded by the state and is passing away? Neither the story of our past, nor the demands of the present allow any such conclusion. History will never let us forget very long that the churches were once the only courts of justice, asylums, and hospitals which the people had. Their strong oak doors swung wide to re- ceive those fleeing for life from the pursuer or the avenger, those who laid hold upon " the horns of the altar " as their only hope. The silent walls of the cathedral became a refuge for the oppressed. Eloquent with stories of tragedy and interposition, of the battle -clash without and strange serenity within, are the low-browed, age-worn, time- scarred portals through the ancient walls of what were half fortress and half sanctuary. RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION Ancient baptistries still stand to give archi- tectural emphasis to the central place given to the little child in the heart and the concern of religion ages before schools were dreamed of for the children of the people. The alms disbursed, more generously than wisely, with more charity than justice, at the doors of the synagogue and the church, far and away led all of the sentiment and action which evolved the modern shelter and provision for the poor, public or private. Labour ex- changes and other forms of co-operation be- tween the strong and the weak, to promote equality of opportunity, were first sheltered under cathedral arches and centred about parish households of faith. The very craft- guilds had religious origin, organisation, and mysteries. The care of the sick, invalid, or- phans, and aged was nobly assumed by religious communities long before it was recognised to be the responsibility of the body politic and the obligation of the tax- payer. The canon law of the Church was an CITY AND CHURCH established and elaborate system of legal procedure when and where there was no jurisprudence which could claim to be either common practice or a body of law. The tow- ering walls and far-flung roofs of the mediae- val temples were built by the people and for the people. They were the people's place, the people's palace. Do these facts not show that the civic forms which religion now takes on are founded upon and have grown up out of the old faith of the synagogue and the old gospel of the Church? Are they not evidences that religion was never more irrepressible than now; now that it cannot contain itself, or be contained, within church walls, within the limits of creeds, within the rituals of wor- ship, within ecclesiastical control; now that it is out in the open, under the stars of all heavens, among the trees and the rocks of God's green earth; now that it has leavened, the common life of the very race? Have not the churches been building better than they RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION knew to have built so many of their ideals, their impulses, their methods of human serv- ice, their prophecies of the city of God into the facts and functions, the laws and policies, the better present and the brighter prospects of our towns and cities, our counties and states, our communities and nation, our in- ternational courts and our federations of peace? Not only by the much that has been done, but by the more that is now demanded, both city and Church lay claim to each other as never before. If politics are to be more and more a direct democracy, then patriotism must depend for its unselfishness and for its service of others upon the good-will of the individual which it is the function of religion to beget, and of the Church to nurture. Whence, if not from worship, the worship of what is best for each and all, is the com- munity to evolve its ideals of the individual and the collective life? How else than by the dependence of faith and the aspiration of CITY AND CHURCH prayer may the body of citizenship recog- nise the fact that power to realise civic ideals is spiritual and not material, is a force from within and above, and not resident in mere organisation or laws? Upon what can the state depend to generate the power of the self-emptied, self-sacrificing life, the only power for progress? If religion is to realise its ideal and fulfil its function, not only in the life of the one, but also in the relations and destiny of the many, not only in personal piety, but also in public policy, not only in saved souls, but also in the saved world, then the Church by itself alone is not sufficient to fulfil the func- tion of religion and realise its ideal in human life. Indeed as human lives become more interdependent upon each other, and there- fore more dependent upon the antecedents and surroundings, upon the conditions and laws, upon the frame-work of the organised community for which others are responsible, the Church is less and less able to save even RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION the individual life through its own organised agencies only and without the co-operation of the local community and the larger state in the work of human redemption. Much more must it have what only the whole com- munity, with all its resources, and the full force of its highest laws and best adminis- tration can furnish, in order to fulfil the so- cial ideal and tho social function of religion, to which it is committed by the prophecy of the seers and the " great commission " of the Church. The state is not more commit- ted to the humanising of religion than the Church to the spiritualising and sanctifying of the state. Only by the religious passion in politics and the passion of patriotism in religion can the mighty task of readjusting the Church and the state to each other be undertaken or fulfilled. They must be aligned first in the individual lives of those who are citizens be- cause they are churchmen and churchmen be- cause they are citizens; those whose religion CITY AND CHURCH insists upon expressing itself in the political and civic terms of real life; those to whom the Church is an institution whose highest mission is to build the community up out of itself, not itself out of the community; those who cannot and will not abide a community of Christians which is not a Christian com- munity. And the words hold if we substi- tute Jewish for Christian. In The Stones of Venice Buskin thus de- ciphers for us what becomes of a community of such Christians and of so-called Chris- tians in such a community: " The most curious phenomenon in all Venetian history is the vitality of religion in private life and its deadness in public policy. The habit of assigning to religion a direct influence over all his own actions and all the affairs of his own daily life, is remarkable in every great Venetian during the times of the prosperity of the state; nor are instances wanting in which the private feeling of the citizens reaches the sphere of their policy, and even becomes the guide of its course where the 225 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION scales of expediency are doubtfully balanced. . . . But the heart of Venice is shown only in her hastiest councils; her worldly spirit recovers the ascendency whenever she has time to calculate the probabilities of advantage, or when they are suffi- ciently distinct to need no calculation; and the entire subjection of private piety to national policy is remarkable throughout the almost endless series of treacheries and tyrannies by which her empire was enlarged.' . . . The evidence from the arts of Venice will be both frequent and irrefragable, that the decline of her political prosperity was exactly coincident with that of domestic and in- dividual religion." Such duplicity in morals and hypocrisy in religion are happily less and less self -decep- tive. The time is not far distant when nei- ther a church member nor a citizen will be thought " good " if his citizenship is not really as good as church membership certi- fies manhood and womanhood to be. The home which a family has will be less a crite- rion of its character than the tenement house 226 CITY AND CHURCH in which in the same town the families of the poor live. A citizen will not pass as law- abiding, unless he stands for equality for all before the law. Personal virtue will be measured by the effectiveness with which it promotes public virtue. The character of a town will be judged not only by the personal virtues of its people, but by their standards of its public life and social conditions for which they are responsible. The efficiency of the Church will be tested by the extent to which social conditions and town government make it easier to be good and harder to be bad. The claim of being a community of Christians will not be conceded to those who do not constitute a Christian community. 227 CHAPTER XII CHURCH AND COMMUNITY THEIR INTERRELA- TION AND COMMON AIM COMMON words, such as " community " and " communion," lose much of their signifi- cance in being specialised. The institutions which exclusively appropriate their special usage thereby lose the vital meaning and force which their common use carries. On the other hand, this specialised significance of common terms may give an added and higher meaning to the ordinary things of life which they usually designate. All human interests need nothing so much as to have the ordinary things of life invested with extraordinary importance, common ex- periences with special interest, the natural relationships with exceptional significance, routine with zest, the most human with the CHURCH AND COMMUNITY divine st meaning. It is the genius of re- ligion to do just this thing. The state also dignifies and enhances the lesser things of individual life by massing them together into great public interests and by raising them out of mere personal concern up to the plane of public policy and national significance. While both the Church and the state do this thing for the common life, yet each of them needs the common life to do it for them. For, by special and exclusive religious usage, the terms of common life do lose sig- nificance. " Righteousness " thus became an abstraction, something unreal, fictitious, apart from personal experience, when it lost the simple sense of " right " with which it is always invested in common use. Its re- ligious value therefore can be kept vital only by keeping^ it in constant connection with the common use of the term which describes right relations between man and man. And yet the religious emphasis upon the necessity of right relations with God furnishes the RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION standards and the power to realise those be- tween man and man. So, also, the political use of common terms empties them of mean- ing. For instance, " the city " in the par- lance of the politician, the job-giver and seeker, and the caucus regulars, stands only for what they, one and all, can get out of the body politic for themselves, their faction, or their party. It is thus emptied of all those human values, which are even ignored by multitudes of the very people who thereby permit their most personal interests to be bartered away and lost. Political usage needs to have put back into it the common human sense of the city, the town, the county, the village, as a group of human beings, as families of men, women, and children, with all their experiences of loss and gain, pain and pleasure, death and life. What is this but religion's " city of God "! From this point of view we may best ap- proach our inquiry as to what the Church and the local community have to do with and 230 CHURCH AND COMMUNITY for each other. In both the ordinary and special use of these terms, " community " and " communion, " there is more of spirit than of form. Each breathes the sharing spirit. Both express, within different spheres or relationships of life, the having-in- common and the sharing-in-common. This idea lies at the one tap-root, from which both of these terms derive their origin. And each of them carries the likeness of their common family lineage into the spheres of religious and political action. In the Church's " communion, " the fact and idea of fellowship were felt long before the term was connected with a sacramental rite, or with the membership of an organisa- tion, in which senses the term is almost ex- clusively used within certain circles. So also in the local " community, " as it is regarded by its members, there is still more of the fact and idea of a community of interests than of any organised agency of government or of party. RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION Back of and above all our modern forms and ideas of local government, especially city government, lies the primitive concep- tion of the ' ' ancient city ' ' in its original use, descriptive of the earliest experiences of the race. The " city " was not any kind of an organisation, political or administrative. It was not even a locality, or a collection of streets and houses. It was a federation of tribes or families. Two of them met in the wilderness of their wanderings. Finding more to unite than to divide them, they thus entered into a pact of peace. They built an altar of stones. They dug a little trench about it. They encircled both with a light fire of brush. Then representatives of each tribe or household ran through the fire to show that everything that could divide them was consumed, and they filled the trench with handfuls of earth from native soils to show that every cleavage that could separate them was filled up. At the altar, thus doubly sanc- tified and safeguarded, they offered a sacri- CHURCH AND COMMUNITY fice to the gods, who were considered mem- bers of the tribes. And thus they founded their " city " as a federation of families. Around that altar grew the citadel, about which the aged, the weak, and the young with their protectors, gradually came to linger, while the many and the strong moved on to pasture their herds and flocks, but to return now and again when the moon marked the time for reunion. Here, then, at the heart of the home, the village or city community, as well as the synagogue and the church, had their com- mon origin. For the synagogue was more like a household than like the ancient temple, and the earliest church was the " church in the house, " with households for its member- ship. However necessary the organisation of the Church and the state may have been, whatever agencies the polity of the one and the politics of the other may take on, it is still necessary to go back to the idea of a federation of families in order to define RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION what both church and local government are for, and how to make the organisation and agencies of each fulfil its purpose. Local government is an extension of housekeeping. The local church should be the source of power, and the very breath of life, for home- building. The officials of each fulfil their highest functions in aiding and supplement- ing the priesthood and kingship of the par- ents. The sacraments of the Passover and Holy Communion could find no symbol more sacred than the family supper, no service more holy than to pervade the household of faith with the family feeling. The city could discover no more dignified title for its gov- erning officials than " aldermen," and the church than " elders," that is " city fathers " and " fathers of the faithful " or " elder brethren." So we may take the homelike ;church and the family-like com- munity to be both the formative ideals and the constructive forces of religion and poli- tics alike. CHURCH AND COMMUNITY The function of the Church in the political sphere as in that of the family, the neigh- bourhood, and industry, is threefold ; to have and give a formative ideal of what the com- munity is to be and do; to initiate, inspire, and support movements and agencies for the realisation of civic ideals; and to generate and apply the power of a self-sacrificing public spirit, which is the only force ade- quate to promote social progress. To reveal the idealism of religion has always been the unique prerogative and dis- tinctive service of the Church in human life and society. Art and literature have shared this function, but the Church has brought ideals far more directly to bear upon many more people and kinds of people. It has used art and letters more effectively to this end than they have been put to use apart from religion. It is not true, as is so often asserted, that the Church has had an ideal only for the in- dividual, not for society. It has always had RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION a golden age, a millennium, and beyond it a heaven, to hold up as its social ideal for the world. But it has almost always reserved these social ideals for " the last days," and taught them as a part of its ' l eschatology, ' ' its teaching about last things; as its " apocalypse, " its vision of the end. In- deed some schools of its teachings have for- bidden any hope of a social ideal, or even of human progress, by putting all hope beyond the earthly end and allowing for a progress only from worse to worse, until the final catastrophe annihilates the present order for the better one which is to take its place. Spasmodically, now and then, here and there, through the Christian centuries, lead- ers and groups, filled with the Pentecostal spirit, have attempted to realise in life or literature the ideal of a Christian community, which began to be achieved at Pentecost. St. John, as the last of the apostles, saw it from afar to be " the new Jerusalem." Augus- tine, greatest of the fathers, reconstructed 236 CHURCH AND COMMUNITY it in his City of God. Sir Thomas More dreamed it in his Utopia. Constantine and the imperial popes attempted it in the Holy Eoman Empire. St. Francis of Assisi, child of the earth and sky, reunited nature and spirit, the human and the divine, in the one realm of his love and life. Savonarola gave his life to make over Florence after the pat- tern of the heavenly city. John Calvin ruled Geneva in the fear of God. Oliver Cromwell established the commonwealth of the Cove- nanters. John Knox struggled to make Scotland a regenerate land. Our Pilgrim Fathers established commonwealths governed by church members. Joseph Mazzini tried to make old Eome new, as the democratic centre for the association of the peoples. Thomas Chalmers wrote of the Christian and civic economy of large towns, and applied it to Glasgow and Edinburgh. Our own Mulford held high our American ideals in his lofty thought on The Nation and The Repub- lic of God. Some of these attempts were 237 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTIO-N more theocratic and theological than civic or democratic. But only in our own times have our re- ligious social ideals been held close enough to earth to be applicable to the local com- munity. Only just now are we beginning to ask, " What is a town for? " And for an answer we are putting our ideals into town planning and municipal policies. Should not the whole church of a town and city think and say something of the town and city as a whole? Should those who claim to have " the oracles of God " and to interpret the prophecies, have nothing to say or suggest as to the immediate or remoter future of their own town or city? Should they who bear ' * the burden of the soul ' ' have no part in determining the conditions, and in shaping the public policies and plans which will influ- ence the destiny of souls? If in the life to come heaven is held up as " the mansions of our Father's house, " a " place prepared " for each, surely in the life that now is some CHURCH AND COMMUNITY care should be taken to provide some place for men, women, and children, and the kind of house a ' ' soul ' ' can live in. The community cannot fail to profit by being faced with a religious ideal of what it ought to be. And a church cannot fail to gain by having and proclaiming an ideal for its community. The mere effort to form its own ideal of what its town should aim to be will enlarge the Church's view of its own function and field. Its purpose and policy will be more public and practical,, and no less personal. To be looked to for some contri- bution toward the community ideals and progress, will lead the Church to look beyond itself for its raison d'etre. To be identified with the life of the whole community will de- liver it from that institutional self-conscious- ness which paralyses spiritual purpose and power. For, with strange and fatal facility, men do forget the purpose of established in- stitutions, and the reason for their existence. They thus lose the value and even the sight 239 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION of the ends for which they exist in forgetting that all institutions are means. This institutionalism which substitutes means for ends, and subverts the ends in slavishly serving the means, is the very in- sanity of history political, industrial, edu- cational, and ecclesiastical. Thus the state, the municipality, and the town lose their hold on the life and the loyalty of the people by becoming partisan machines instead of pub- lic service utilities. Thus commercialism overreaches itself in sacrificing the many to the few and prevents a gainful co-operation in order to promote a destructively unre- stricted competition. Thus schools and uni- versities, by making knowledge an end in- stead of a means, and apotheosising culture for culture's sake, fail in their mission, which is not only " to minister to industrial ad- vancement, but to enable technical advance- ment to minister to the life of the people." Thus, too, churches lose not only their power, but their very soul in building themselves up 240 CHURCH AND COMMUNITY out of the community, instead of the com- munity up out of themselves. The conscious- ness of being identified with the greater cause of the whole community and with the Kingdom of God, of which it is a part, mag- nifies even the greatest institutions, gives power to every least agency, dignifies each humblest duty, and adds zest to every most routine service. Quite as much, then, for the Church's own sake, as for the communi- ty's sake, should there be a religious ideal of the community life and progress. Worship worth-ship is the Church's means of ex- pressing and holding high overhead what is worthiest, the divine ideal of human life, in- dividual and collective. Public worship is the flag of the Kingdom. The Church which maintains it is the color-guard of the com- munity. To initiate, inspire, and support the move- ments and agencies for realising these ideals practically and progressively is the second civic and social function of the Church. But RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION in and through its own organisation, the Church is seldom, if ever, to attempt to be the executive even of its own initiative, much less that of the community. The social ideals of the Gospel have borne their best fruits in society when the churches have given the initiative toward higher conceptions of civic and national life; have supplied towns, cities, state, and nation with citizens inspired with these ideals of Christian social relation- ship and with the willingness to sacrifice to realise them ; and have given no suspicion of making any attempt, either formal or vir- tual, to usurp the functions of government. The churches should be the last to tolerate, much less to claim or secure, special legisla- tion for their own or others ' benefit, for they stand for all if for any. Not in their cor- porate capacity should the churches assume the function of reformatory agencies for the enactment or enforcement of law. For, on the one hand, neither in their constituency nor in their form of organisation are they CHURCH AND COMMUNITY adapted to or effective in such service ; and on the other hand, if they were, theirs is the higher function and even the harder work of maintaining the standards and generating the sacrificial spirit that make such strife at law unnecessary, or, if necessary, trium- phant. If, therefore, the churches may not be the executive of social action, even in the effort to realise their own ideals, they may give ini- tiative to every such effort by fulfilling their function of inspiring, educating, and unify- ing the people. Where other institutions of the community the homes, the neighbour- hood centres for culture and social inter- course, and the municipal provisions for so- cial needs can be made to meet and minis- ter to the wants of the people, the Church should inspire and support them in so doing, and not supersede or duplicate them. Where they fail, it is not only justifiable but obliga- tory for the churches to provide substitutes for them. Thus " institutional " churches RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION and social settlements are the ministering body of the Son of Man, incarnating the spirit of Christ in their ministry to the physical and social, educational and civic, moral and spiritual necessities of our city centres, not only saving souls out of the wreck, but also helping to save the wreck itself. But very rarely, if ever, is it necessary or advisable to turn the pulpit into a lectureship on economics and politics, or the Sunday service into a free forum for the discussion of social theories. Far more effective is it for the churches to take the social point of view, and thence faithfully and fearlessly, by word and in deed to extend the application of the righteousness of the prophets, the gospel of Christ, and the ethics of the apostles. From their old work of righting the one man's re- lation to the one God to the new work of righting the relation of each to all and of all to each, the churches are now called to extend their mission. To unify all the forces which 244 CHURCH AND COMMUNITY make for righteousness and inspire them to realise the highest ideals attainable, is the formative function of the churches in a com- munity. It will have far more of a reforma- tory effect than all the effort they could make to lead reforms which are always more effec- tively promoted by other agencies. This func- tion of the Church is more formatory than re- formatory. There can be no reform without the concept of the ideal form. Reformation, therefore, must ever be subsidiary to the creative function of forming the ideal. In the language of Horace Mann, " Where any- thing is growing, one formatory is worth a thousand reformatories." The history of the English people began when upon the tomb of a forgotten hero might have been inscribed the words which Charles Kingsley in Hereward, wrote over his name, ' i Here lies the first of the new English, who by the grace of God began to drain the fens." So it is said the imperial supremacy of the English people dates from 245 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION the time the nation went home from Water- loo to attend to her own housekeeping, to work for her daily bread, to care for her women and children, to build roads, shops, and schools, to cleanse houses and streets, and care for her sick. And the church which will initiate this world-work of the kingdom will begin to write a new and glorious page in the history of the commonwealth of Israel and the covenants of promise. The final function of the Church, the fulfil- ment of which is most essential to all social and civic organisations, is to generate that public spirit and self-sacrifice which serve the common interests at the cost of personal ease and gain, or of class and institutional aggrandisement. Without this social self- denial no patriotic, philanthropic, or pro- gressive organisation of a community can succeed or survive. It is the very soul of the body politic, without which it is dead while it lives. It is the dynamic of progress, with- out which the community is powerless to 246 CHURCH AND COMMUNITY make any real advancement toward higher ideals. For the generation of this social power and for putting each citizen in posses- sion of it the community rightfully looks to the Church more than to any other agency. The school should inspire the children with this spirit, but the Church only can carry on and out the cultivation of self-denial among people of all ages and classes. The sign un- der which it claims to live and work, and by which it has ever conquered, is the cross. Only by raising up cross-bearers in social and civic self-denial will it win from the state and society its crown. Only by yield- ing this service as its most fundamental obli- gation to the community can it expect the popular recognition of its right to be and its room to work. Imperious in the interest of both Church and community is the religious imposition of the duty and privilege of self-sacrifice in public service upon every conscience and heart. To impart this power of self-denial 247 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION the Church must be mastered by it herself. To give it she must not only have it, but ex- emplify it. Upon a much farther-sighted view of non-sectarian policy and of interde- nominational comity and co-operation, will depend not only the importance of the Church in the life of the community, but also the moral and financial support which the Church may expect from the people. It is sure to become more of a question whether the churches can survive if they do not sacri- fice self-interest in saving the life of the people, than whether the people's social life can be saved without the Church. Christ's words are as true of his Church as of his disciples, that the Church which " will save " its life shall lose it, and the Church which is willing to lose its institutional or denomina- tional life for Christ's sake and the people's may "find it." With the passion of love for the Church, consistent with his larger loyalty to the Kingdom, William E. Huntington pleaded be- 248 CHURCH AND COMMUNITY fore the convention of the Protestant Epis- copal Church the demand which the organisa- tion of the world makes for the co-operative unity of the churches. He said : " Four great questions confront the American people at this solemn hour when they are passing from an old century to a new. These questions are: the sanctity of the family, the training of youth to good citizenship and good character, the purification of the municipal life of our great cities, and the relation of capital and labour. But tower- ing above them all, as a snow mountain towers up over the more conspicuous but less important foot- hills that cluster about its base, rises the question of every American citizen who is a believer in the religion of Jesus Christ : How may we correlate and unite and consolidate the religious forces of the republic ? Those other questions are in a meas- ure independent of one another, whereas the ques- tion of correlation of the religious forces of the republic touches every one of them intimately, vitally. " Our whole attitude toward the unity question depends upon our notion of what the church to RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION which we are attached is really like. One view is that each church is a little working model of what a true church ought to be, kept under a glass case, provided with its own little boiler and its own little dynamo, the admiration of all who look at it, but by no means and under no circumstances to be connected either by belt or cable with the throbbing, vibrant religious forces of the outer works through broad America, lest they wreck the petite mechanism by the violence of their thrill. We sit here debating these petty technicalities, de- vising the ingenious restraints, and meanwhile out- of-doors the organisation of the world goes on." Wherever the churches are endeavoring to meet the demands of the world's organisa- tion they do not find any basis for practical unity in trying to think alike, or worship alike, or be governed alike. As the bond of comity between themselves is the Christian spirit, so the basis of their common service to the community is their co-operative unity. How reasonably practical it is for the churches in any community, large or small, 250 CHURCH AND COMMUNITY to co-operate for the common good, Wash- ington Gladden long ago set forth in his story of The Christian League of Connecticut. The churches in the state of Maine were among the first to form an interdenomina- tional committee to act as a final court in preserving comity and promoting co-opera- tion. That state of rural communities is thus beginning to find relief from the un- godly sectarian rivalry which is dividing the forces of righteousness hopelessly and is overburdening every little village with a multiplicity of paralytic churches. In New York the Federation of Churches and Re- ligious Workers has successfully set the type for the National Federation of Churches which is pressing the cause of co-operative unity. But prior to these newer movements the foreign missionaries of all our churches have found it so necessary and feasible that they should unite their forces in the over- shadowing presence of the united forces of evil, that the churches of the home-land are 251 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION likely to receive the boon of their own unity in return for the chivalrous service bestowed abroad. A working example and demonstration of the advantage of combining our religious re- sources may be seen in many rural communi- ties in the consolidation of school districts, which makes one strong and effective educa- tional centre possible. Why may not sev- eral denominational churches, too small for any effective service, unite at least in a com- mon effort to inspire the people of their com- munity with the highest ideals of social and civic relationship, to educate the citizens in organising progressive movements and in supplying the self-sacrificing spirit which must always be necessary to realise every hope of progress? The final test of the capacity and right of the churches to fulfil their high function in the community is not the attitude of the peo- ple toward the Church, but the willingness and capacity of the Church to serve the real CHURCH AND COMMUNITY interest of all the people. The country, town, or city church which thus serves its community the most will serve itself the best, and, within the bounds of its legitimate func- tion, will be a source and centre from which will proceed ideal, initiative, and power to the people. Democracy, coming to its own in local self- government, especially in cities, challenges our times with no more categorical impera- tive than the question, ' l Will the Church be- come the democracy?" It is conceded that, as another has said, " The reformer's con- science earns the right to audit the books of society, must enter politics and conquer the earth. The Holy Land to be redeemed is under the feet of the peasant and the la- bourer." But speaking as a churchman, Pro- fessor H. S. Nash, who makes this concession also insists that democracy " lays on the will the heaviest tax of all. The sincere believer in democracy must have a dogmatic RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION conviction that the principle of individuality shall some time have the widest possible spread. His right to be an individual himself puts him under the highest conceivable obligation to create indi- viduality in others. He is a gentleman in a true democratic sense just in the measure that he has the art of finding himself in an ever-growing num- ber of persons of all sorts and conditions. He must carry the campaign against caste into larger issues. He must face all that is disagreeable and problematic in democracy, concealing nothing, blinking nothing away, and at the same time he must keep his will strong and temperate, so that its edge will never turn. To meet all his social obligations properly, to pay all his political debts joyously, never to throw a glance over his shoulder to the monastery this is a mighty day's work.'' The question whether the Church will be the democracy is raising the question whether the democracy will be the Church. Richard Whiteing, one of the keenest, satirical critics of conventional ecclesiasticism which current fiction has produced, makes this CHURCH AND COMMUNITY startlingly frank and final answer in his Num- ber 5 John Street: " Nothing but a church will do. All the other schemes of democracy come to naught for want of that. The lecture platform is no substitute for Sinai. Democracy is a religion or nothing, with its doctrine, its forms, its ritual, its ceremonies, its government as a church above all, its organised sacrifice of the altar, the sacrifice of self. De- mocracy must get rid of the natural man, of each for himself, and have a new birth into the spiritual man, the ideal self of each for all. Without re- ligion, how is man, the essentially religious animal, to face the most tremendous of all problems, social justice? " The social ideals of Christianity have all along the history of their revelation inspired the initiative of many others than men of the spirit. Over the men of 1798 there hung like a mirage in the desolation of their des- ert, the dimly seen ideals of that Kingdom which is " righteousness, peace and joy." 255 RELIGION IN SOCIAL ACTION Had their initiative been " in the spirit, " then " liberty, eqnality, and fraternity " might have been the translation of those an- cient terms in Pentecostal tongues to the modern world. Then the revolution might have been the world's second Pentecost, the spirit's social regeneration, the birth of the coming nation in a day. For the social re- generation is the function of the Messianic spirit. But that spirit has never wrought the social regeneration without having the cross of self-sacrifice to work through, with- out having as at Pentecost, and at every so- cial revival since, Messianic people to sacri- fice themselves to bear away the sin of soci- ety and to bring in the " kingdom of the Father. " The cross of social self-denial is the Christ-man's burden now as ever now, in some respects, as never before. For there is an ethical tragedy at hand, such as has not tested Christendom since the Eeformation, such as did not test it then at a point of such close contact with the people of the whole 256 CHURCH AND COMMUNITY world. It remains to be seen where the cross-bearing spirit will find the Messianic people " the servant of Jehovah " to serve the peoples, the community-serving Church, and therefore the Church of the community. 257 REFERENCES CHAPTER I LIFE AND RELIGION PHELPS, AUSTIN Men and Books. Chapters 1-2. Scribner. New York. 1882. VAN DYKE, HENRY The Gospel for an Age of Doubt. Chapter 4. Macmillan. New York. 1896. SPEER, ROBERT E. Studies of the Man Christ Jesus. Revell. New York. 1896. HARNACK and HERRMANN The Social Gospel. Putnam. New York. 1907. KING, HENRY C. Religion as Life. Macmillan. New York. 1913. NASH, H. S. Genesis of the Social Conscience. Macmillan. New York. 1897. PARADISE, FRANK ILSLEY The Church and the Individual. Moffat. New York. 1910. RAUSCHENBUSCH, WALTER Christianity and the Social Crisis. Macmillan. New York. 1907. 259 REFERENCES Prayers of the Social Awakening. Pilgrim Press. Boston. 1910. DENNIS, JAMES S. Christian Missions and Social Progress. Vol. I, Chapters 1-4. Revell. New York. 1897. CHAPTER II THE HUMAN POINT OP VIEW HAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL Consular Experiences. In volume " Our Old Home." Houghton, Mifflin. Boston. 1901. IRVINE, ALEXANDER From the Bottom Up. Doubleday, Page. New York. 1910. Compare transformation of character as sketched by RALPH CONNOR, HAROLD BEGBIE, CHARLES M. SHELDON. CHAPTER III PERSONALITY A SOCIAL PRODUCT AND FORCE WORTMAN, DENIS Reliques of the Christ. Revell. New York. 1896. The Divine Processional. Revell. New York. 1902. MCKENZIE, ALEXANDER Address at Annual Meeting of American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Mis- sions. 1893. 260 REFERENCES BALDWIN, J. MARK Social and Ethical Interpretation of Mental Development. Pp. 7-89, 557-563. Mac- millan. New York. 1897. COOLEY, CHARLES H. Human Nature and the Social Order. Scribner. New York. 1902. BROOKS, PHILLIPS Self-Culture and Self-Sacrifice. Address be- fore St. Andrew's Brotherhood. St. An- drew's Cross, November, 1892. Boston. CHAPTER IV THE CALL AND EQUIPMENT FOR EFFECTIVE SERVICE BURTON, NATHANIEL J. Yale Lectures on Preaching. Pilgrim Press. Boston. 1888. BROOKS, PHILLIPS Yale Lectures on Preaching. Button. New York. 1878. BRUCE, A. B. The Training of the Twelve. Clark. Edin- burgh. 1883. STOWE, HARRIET BEECHER The Minister's Wooing. Houghton, Mifflin. Boston. ALLEN, WILLIAM H. Efficient Democracy. Dodd, Mead. New York. 1907. 261 REFERENCES CHAPTER V CHANGING CONDITIONS OP A WORKING FAITH RAUSCHENBUSCH, WALTER Christianising the Social Order. Macmillan. New York. 1912. / BATTEN, SAMUEL Z. The Social Task of Christianity. Revell. New York. 1911. MATHEWS, SHAILER The Church and the Changing Order. Mac- millan. New York. 1907. TUCKER, WILLIAM JEWETT The Function of the Church in Modern So- ciety. Houghton, Mifflin. Boston. 1911. GLADDEN, WASHINGTON The Church and Modern Life. Houghton, Mifflin. Boston. 1908. WARD, H. F., and others Social Creed of the Churches. Eaton & Mains. New York. 1912. Social Ministry. Eaton & Mains. New York. 1910. TIPPT, W. M., and others The Socialised Church. Eaton & Mains. New York. 1908. MACPARLAND, CHARLES S., and others The Christian Ministry and the Social Order. Yale University Press. New Haven. 1909. 262 REFERENCES BROWN, CHARLES R. The Social Message of the Modern Pulpit. Scribner. New York. 1906. DAVENPORT, F. M. Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals. Mac- millan. New York. 1905. STRONG, JOSIAH Our World The New World Life. Double- day, Page. New York. 1913. HYDE, H. D. Outlines of Social Theology. Macmillan. New York. 1895. KING, HENRY C. Theology and the Social Consciousness. Mac- millan. New York. 1902. SMITH, G. B. Social Idealism and the Changing Theology. MacmiUan. New York. 1913. EUCKEN, RUDOLF C. Christianity and the New Idealism. Harper. New York. 1909. CHAPTER VI THE RELIGION OF HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS MOZLEY, J. B. Ruling Ideas in Early Ages, pp. 37-63, 83-125. Dutton. New York. 1881. REFERENCES GLADDEN, WASHINGTON Ruling Ideas of the Present Age. Houghton, Mifflin. Boston. 1895. HEARN, W. E. The Aryan Household, pp. 26-127, 162. Longmans. London. 1891. JACKS, L. P. Church and World. Hibbert Journal, Octo- ber, 1906. London. FREMANTLE, W. H. The World as the Subject of Redemption. Longmans. London. 1892. The Gospel of the Secular Life. Scribner. New York. 1883. SEELEY, J. R. Ecce Homo. Roberts Bros. Boston. 1867. CHAD WICK, W. E. Social Relationships in the Light of Christian- ity. Longmans. New York. 1910. EARP, EDWIN L. Social Aspects of Religious Institutions. Eaton & Mains. New York. 1908. SCHMIDT, C. Social Results of Early Christianity. Isbister. London. 1885. BRACE, CHARLES LORING Gesta Christi. Armstrong. New York. 1883. REFERENCES STORES, RICHARD S. Divine Origin of Christianity. Randolph & Co. New York. 1884. MAZZINI, JOSEPH Thoughts upon Democracy in Europe. Smith, Elder & Co. London. 1891. On the Duties of Man. Smith, Elder & Co. God and the People. Excerpts by C. W. STUBBS. T. Fisher Unwin. London. 1896. Memoir. By Mrs. E. A. VENTURI. H. S. King & Co. London. 1875. MEN AND RELIGION MESSAGES Vol. II. Social Service. Association Press. New York. 1912. CHAPTER VII THE FAMILY : ^FIELD, FUNCTION, AND TRIBUTARY AGENCIES WESTERMARCK, E. History of Human Marriage. Macmillan. London. 1891. HOWARD, GEORGE E. History of Matrimonial Institutions. Uni- versity of Chicago Press. 1904. DRUMMOND, HENRY The Ascent of Man. Chapters 7-9. James Pott & Co. New York. 1894. DEALEY, J. Q. The Family in Its Sociological Aspects. Houghton, Mifflin. Boston. 1912. 265 REFERENCES PARSONS, MRS. E. C. The Family. Putnam. New York. 1906. BOSANQUET, HELEN The Family. Macmillan. London. 1906. . DEVINE, EDWARD T. The Family and Social Work. Survey Asso- ciates. New York. 1912. BLISS, WILLIAM D. P. Encyclopedia of Social Reform. Articles ' ' Family, " ' ' Malthusianism. ' ' Funk & Wagnalls. New York. 1908. MALTHUS, THOMAS ROBERT Essay on Principles of Population. Reeves. London. 1888. HADLEY, ARTHUR T. Economics. Pp. 41-51. Putnam. New York. 1899. HOBHOUSE, L. T. Social Evolution and Political Theory. Pp. 13-79, on " Progress and the Struggle for Existence " and " Value and Limitations of Eugenics." Columbia University Press. New York. 1911. BUSHNELL, HORACE Christian Nurture. Chapter 4, on " The Or- ganic Unity of the Family." Scribner. New York. 1886. 266 REFERENCES NEWSHOLME, ARTHUR Declining Birth-rate. Moffat, Yard & Co. New York. 1911. SALEEBY, C. W. Method of Race Regeneration. Moffat. New York. 1911. ELLIS, HAVELOCK Problem of Race Regeneration. Moffat. New York. 1911. THE SURVEY The Right to be Well Born. Symposium. March 2, 1912. SELIGMAN, E. E. A. The Social Evil. Putnam. New York. 1912. ADDAMS, JANE A New Conscience and an Ancient Evil. Mae- millan. New York. 1912. BUREAU OF SOCIAL HYGIENE, PUBLICATIONS OP Century Co. New York. 1913. VICE COMMISSION OF THE CITY OF CHICAGO, RE- t " PORT OF The Social Evil in Chicago. American Vigi- lance Association. New York. 1912. JUVENILE PROTECTIVE ASSOCIATION OF CHICAGO,^ REPORTS OF BRECKINRIDGE and ABBOTT L-- The Delinquent Child and the Home. Chari- ties Publication Committee. New York. 1912. 267 REFERENCES The Child in the City. Chicago Child Wel- fare Conference Papers. Chicago School of Civics and Philanthropy. 1912. DEFOREST and VEILLER The Tenement House Problem. Two volumes. Macmillan. New York. 1903. AMERICAN SOCIOLOGICAL SOCIETY, PUBLICATIONS OF Volume III. The Family. University of Chi- cago Press. 1908. NATIONAL CONFERENCE OF CHARITIES AND COR- RECTION, PROCEEDINGS OF Family. See Alexander Johnson's Index, Guide. Indianapolis. 1908. CHAPTER VIII SURVIVAL AND REVIVAL OF NEIGHBOURSHIP HEARN, W. E. The Aryan Household. Longmans. London. 1891. MAINE, HENRY SUMNER Village Communities in the East and West. Holt. New York. 1889. SHALER, NATHANIEL S. The Neighbour. Houghton, Mifflin. Boston. 1904. RICHMOND, MARY E. The Good Neighbour. Lippincott. Philadel- phia. 1912. 268 REFERENCES WOODS and KENNEDY Handbook of Settlements. Charities Publica- tion Committee. New York. 1911. Young Working Girls. Houghton, Mifflin. Boston. 1913. The Settlement Horizon. Survey Associates. New York. 1913. ADDAMS, JANE Twenty Years at Hull House. Macmillan. New York. 1910. The Spirit of Youth and the City Streets. Macmillan. New York. 1909. TAYLOR, GRAHAM The Social Settlement, Church and Religion. The Survey. July 5, 1913. PERRY, CLARENCE A. The Larger Use of the School Plant. Charities Publication Committee. New York. 1910. WARD, EDWARD J. The Social Centre. Appleton. New York. 1913. NATIONAL PLAYGROUND ASSOCIATION, PUBLICA- TIONS OF New York City. NATIONAL CONFERENCE OF CHARITIES AND COR- RECTION, PROCEEDINGS OF " Neighbourhood." S ; ee Alexander Johnson's Index, Guide. Indianapolis. 1908. 269 REFERENCES CONYNGTON, MARY How to Help. Macmillan. New York. 1912. BYINGTON, MARGARET F. What Social Workers Should Know About Their Own Communities. Charities Pub- lication Committee. New York. 1912. ACADEMY OP POLITICAL SCIENCE IN THE CITY OP NEW YORK, PROCEEDINGS OP Organisation for Social Work. July, 1912. CHAPTER IX INDUSTRY AND RELIGION: THEIR COMMON GROUND AND INTERDEPENDENCE BAX, E. BELFORT The Peasants' War in Germany. Macmillan. New York. 1899. LlNSAY, T. M. History of the Reformation. Vol. I. Scribner. New York. 1906. RYAN, JOHN A. The Living Wage. Macmillan. New York. 1906. NATIONAL CONFERENCE OP CHARITIES AND COR- RECTION, PROCEEDINGS OF 1910-1913. Reports of Committee on Stand- ards of Living and Labour. RAUSCHENBUSCH, WALTER Christianising the Social Order. Macmillan. New York. 1912. 270 REFERENCES BLISS, WILLIAM D. P. Encyclopedia of Social Reform. Articles on " Christianity and Social Reform," 11 Church and Social Reform," " The Church and the Workingman, ' ' * ' Poverty, ' ' " Socialism." Funk & Wagnalls. New York. 1908. GLADDEN, WASHINGTON Tools and the Man. Houghton, Mifflin. Bos- ton. 1893. The Labour Question. Pilgrim Press. Boston. 1911. STELZLE, CHARLES American Social and Religious Conditions. Revell. New York. 1912. ABBOTT, EDITH Women in Industry. Appleton. New York. 1910. GOLDMARK, JOSEPHINE Fatigue and Efficiency. Charities Publication Committee. New York. 1912. NATIONAL CHILD LABOUR COMMITTEE, PUBLICA- TIONS OF New York City. CHAPTER X ORGANISED INDUSTRY AND ORGANISED RELIGION BOOTH, CHARLES Life and Labour in London. Volumes on Pov- REFERENCES erty, and Poverty-Producing Trades. Mac- millan. London. 1902. THE PITTSBURGH SURVEY The Steel Workers, by JOHN A. FITCH ; Home- stead: The Households of a Mill Town, by MARGARET F. BYINGTON; Work Accidents and the Law, by CRYSTAL EASTMAN; Women and the Trades, by ELIZABETH B. BUTLER. Charities Publication Committee. New York. 1909-1911. HOBSON, JOHN A. Evolution of Modern Capitalism. Scribner. New York. 1894. WEBB, SIDNEY and BEATRICE Industrial Democracy. Longmans. London. 1897. MITCHELL, JOHN Organised Labour. American Book and Bible House. Philadelphia. 1903. WOMER, PARLEY PAUL The Church and the Labour Conflict. Mac- millan. New York. 1913. SMITH, SAMUEL G. The Industrial Conflict. Revell. New York. 1908. SPARGO, JOHN Syndicalism. Industrial Unionism and Social- ism. Huebsch. New York. 1913. SPARGO and ARNER Elements of Socialism. Macmillan. New York. 1912. REFERENCES CHAPTER XI CITY AND CHURCH REAPPROACHING EACH OTHER DE TOCQUEVILLE, ALEXIS Democracy in America. Appleton. New York. 1904. BRYCE, JAMES American Commonwealth. Vol. I. Part 2. Chapters 48-52. Macmillan. New York. 1889. CHALMERS, THOMAS Christian and Civic Economy of Large Towns. Edited by C. R. Henderson. Scribner. New York. 1900. STRONG, JOSIAH The Challenge of the City. Young People's Missionary Movement. New York. 1907. The Next Great Awakening. Baker & Taylor. New York. 1902. STELZLE, CHARLES Christianity's Storm Centre A Study of the Modern City. Revell. New York. 1907. CUTTING, R. FULTON The Church and Society. Macmillan. New York. 1912. RUSKIN, JOHN The Stones of Venice. Library Edition. Grant Allen. London. 1903. 273 REFERENCES CROLY, H. D. The Promise of American Life. Macmillan. New York. 1909. ANTIN, MARY The Promised Land. Houghton, Mifflin. Bos- ton. 1912. ROBERTS, PETER The New Immigration. Macmillan. New York. 1912. SMITH, J. A. The Spirit of American Government. Mac- millan. New York. 1911. MULFORD, ELISHA The Nation. Hurd & Houghton. Boston. 1877. The Republic of God. Houghton, Mifflin. Boston. 1882. CHAPTER XII CHURCH AND COMMUNITY : THEIR INTERRELATION AND COMMON AIM FISKE, JOHN American Political Ideas. Houghton, Mifflin. Boston. 1911. The Beginnings of New England. Houghton, Mifflin. Boston. 1891. ANDERSON, W. L. The Country Town. Baker & Taylor. New York. 1906. 274 REFERENCES WILSON, WARREN H. Evolution of the Country Community. Pil- grim Press. Boston. 1912. BUTTERFIELD, KENYON L. The Country Church and the Rural Problem. University of Chicago Press. 1911. McVEY, FRANK L. The Making of a Town. McClurg. Chicago. 1913. PLUNKETT, HORACE Rural Life Problem of the United States. Macmillan. New York. 1910. BAILEY, L. H. Country Life Movement in the United States. Macmillan. New York. 1911. GILL and PINCHOT The Country Church. Macmillan. New York. 1913. CARVER, T. N. Principles of Rural Economics. Ginn & Co. New York. 1911. GILLETTE, JOHN M. Constructive Rural Sociology. Sturgis & Wal- ton. New York. 1913. FISKE, G. W. The Challenge of the Country. Association Press. New York. 1912. 275 REFERENCES HOWE, FREDERICK C. The City the Hope of Democracy. Scribner. New York. 1909. STEAD, WILLIAM T. If Christ Came to Chicago. Laird & Lee. Chicago. 1894. ZUEBLIN, CHARLES American Municipal Progress. Macmillan. New York. 1902. KOBINSON, CHARLES MULFORD Improvement of Cities and Towns. Putnam. New York. 1901. TAYLOR, GRAHAM ROMEYN Satellite Cities. The Survey. Oct. 5, Nov. 2, Dec. 7, 1912; Feb. 1, Mar. 1, June 7, 1913. ALLEN, W. H. Civics and Health. Ginn & Co. Boston. 1909. AMERICAN ACADEMY OF POLITICAL AND SOCIAL SCIENCE Public Recreation Facilities. Philadelphia. March, 1910. VEILLER, LAWRENCE Housing Reform. Charities Publication Com- mittee. New York. 1910. UNWIN, RAYMOND Town Planning in Practice. T. Fisher Unwin. London. 1909. 276 REFERENCES HUNTINGTON, WlLLIAM E. The Church Idea. Scribner. New York. 1899. A National Church. Scribner. New York. NASH, H. S. Genesis of the Social Conscience. Macmillan. New York. 1897. WHITEING, RICHARD Number 5 John Street. Century Co. New York. 1899. HATCH, EDWIN Organisation of Early Christian Churches. Longmans. London. 1892. The Influence of Greek Ideas. Williams & Norgate. London. 1892. HORT, F. J. A. Christian Ecclesia. Macmillan. London. 1897. STEAD, F. HERBERT The Kingdom and the Church. In volume of essays, " Faith and Criticism." Button. New York. The Kingdom of God. T. & T. Clark. Edin- burgh. GLADDEN, WASHINGTON The Church and the Kingdom. Revell. New York. 1894. The Church and Modern Life. Houghton, Mifflin. Boston. 1908. 277 REFERENCES MATHEWS, SHAILER The Social Teachings of Jesus. Macmillan. New York. 1897. PEABODY, FRANCIS G. Jesus Christ and the Social Question. Mac- millan. New York. 1900. ALLEN, A. V. G. Continuity of Christian Thought. Houghton, Mifflin. Boston. 1884. NITTI, FRANCESCO S. Catholic Socialism. Macmillan. New York. 1895. SMITH, SAMUEL G. Democracy and the Church. Appleton. New York. 1912. PIKE, GRANVILLE Ross The Divine Drama. Macmillan. New York. 1899. HALL, THOMAS C. Social Solutions in the Light of Christian Ethics. Eaton & Mains. New York. 1910. History of Ethics within Organised Christian- ity. Scribner. New York. 1910. DOLE, CHARLES F. The Ethics of Progress. Crowell & Co. New York. 1909. PATTEN, SIMON N. The New Basis of Civilisation. Macmillan. New York. 1908. 278 REFERENCES FERGUSON, CHARLES The Religion of Democracy. Kansas City. 1907. ADDAMS, JANE Democracy and Social Ethics. Macmillan. New York. 1902. LLOYD, HENRY D. Man, the Social Creator. Doubleday, Page. New York. 1906. CHATTERTON-HILL, GEORGES The Sociological Value of Christianity. Black. London. 1912. HENDERSON, CHARLES R. Social Programmes in the West. University of Chicago Press. 1913. THE GOSPEL OF THE KINGDOM Edited by JOSIAH STRONG. Monthly studies in Social Reform. The American Institute of Social Service. New York. THE SURVEY A magazine for descriptive, constructive and critical discussion of current movements, agencies and literature. New York. IDEAL COMMONWEALTHS The Republic, PLATO; Ethics, ARISTOTLE; Utopia, THOMAS MORE; City of the Sun, CAMPANELLA; News from Nowhere, WIL- LIAM MORRIS ; ISAIAH ; The Holy City in THE REVELATION OP ST. JOHN. 279 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on thedateto whichj;eQpjiTd ^ Renewed boofc!* ajte suBfect to immediate rlcall. F REG D LD JUN2 '65-12M INTER LIBRARY JAN 04 1993 LD 21A-40m-4,'63 (D6471slO)476B General Library University of California Berkeley YB 07233 U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY