CONVERSION: AN ANALYSIS.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XIX, Issue 16, 16 January 1891, Page 11

CONVERSION: AN ANALYSIS.

By Watfabek.

fin Three Chapters.)

Prefatory. It is only in a missionary spun that I set down this record of experiences, this a' aljsis ot couversio i, in f-e hope that the perusal of it may assist those who jet •' halt between 'wo opinion" " to f ,l!ow the streak of light whica Almighty God sheds udl.ii the darkest lilupathß. WelliDgton, December 30, ib'JO. I - Dahknesh. DaikneßE— physical, mental, and spiritual— involves PutMing, but no tuff, rmg is comparable wnh th.it of thespiutua ly bli d. For the spirituality of man is the very essence ol his btio". It ia a physiological trutn ti at the br^iu governs the bo'ly, but "it is even more impbaticahy Uue that the temperament or the spiri'ua.iw of the man governs both brain and body ; and in this a"c of materialism the general tendency is to suppress sentiment— in other words, to ignore the siunual elem.nt. Yet. however we strive to tread under foot or to spurn the spnitual, we can never succeed It is unquenchable, and though it may be reduced to a smouldering coDdition, it can never be extinguished, ar.d its vitality must and will assert itseif. How greatly human life is governed t>\ sentiment very few people consider. What is Mjntimi nt ,' It is the first link of the chain that binds us to our CVaior. to the unseen, to the world behind, and tLc wond beyo> d. It h a " chi. f mimsiei m life's feast " the power that leads us upward in our thoughts, the aogel that guides us to s> mpathy ;in short, elevaU s and m kes useful our lives It is the foundation of purity : it aiises in vapour and crysialises in'virtue ihecoDiution of him in whom spirituality m dwarfed is mure deplorable than that of his brother, who sees not the physical beauties of earth, and of hib still more hapVss biother whuse reason is darkened. Materialism will have its ",iay ; but "history icpcatb itse.f in each domain, and the time is at hand when a levolt of secularism wih take place , aid weary m.inkmd, tued of a loyhss materialism, will lon* fui the sweet cut. solutions ol Ihe past. lh.. very peifectncHH of the prthent structuro of society m due to its fouudaUona Th- •• bood of n artyrs " and the te.trd ot earnest tuli ibaffl d but never discouraged, prepared the ground on which aro-e the labnc of our religion. That religion taught man his duty to AT^nn y God, to his neighbour, and lo himse f ; and ou this'sure ifWdation family life— nation^ life— the entire fabric of society arose. Sentiment substantiated itself into law. The Unssen was the foundation of the Seen. The Ideal was the rock on which localisation was built. 1 have devoted so much ot my introductory remarks to this snblect because I feel veiy deeply its importance as a basis ; because I see in sentiment the bans of luturc triumph. To-day we eec around

us a traeic struggle for existence among men. Nothing conid be more hopeless and unhappy tb»-i i be lot < f the workers who p -rforce obey the behHßt of the monopolists. And it is from this ram of blood and tears that we see now arising a seniment that will anon become a realisation. The rights of oar common human nature and of labour ar.> bemg recognised, and the brotherhood of man in course of accomplishment. He who sees not this, whose eyes are clod to the "signs of the times " is indeed blind, and dwells in da k ness Similarly, he who is satisfied win the present, iMimdually, is "in a bad case." The darkness of the spirit mar in. eed be felt. There is (to put it in the vaguest way possible") an umpen power ; there is an unsden future. W« have proceeded from a mysterious Past. We are hastening towards as m serious a future B. twe n these, do'bel in a ma erial being, we move, with an im-peif.-ct vision. W.th tb« best of us vision is imperfect ; but if we nave not even an imperfect vision, if before our eyes there is not even a green hill far away beyond the city wall " if there is no shadowy P *7 k> °,? JllllllllOl3BJ 111111110138 » atare, how hopeless is our lot ; for this life is att-r all but a tragical pilgrimage, and of all the good things it may yield we c.n carry none away. And besides, in our dark hours (and dark hours descend upon the happiest of us) do we not long for some prospect outside the present ; in our moments of doubt and disgust, of fear and trouble— do we not yearn for a higher life • do we not tu-n to the Unseen, do not our eyes ache for rest 1 „,, . ™is from tn ' 8 v 'Bion, from this weariness that religion springs I his, in brief, is the history of rel gion. I doubt very much however, whether there has ever been si much spiritual darkness in the world as now prevails. Revolt from system (too often corrupt) has produced Secularism and indiffirentism. The pursuit of •' wandering fares .has been a too frequent but always unhappy chase. Those i most engrossed ia this world's affairs have foun 1 it uns%tisfactory aud in the end profitless, or have despised themselves for their hypocritical pretence. For there are moments when every man's conscience ho'da for him '• the mirror up to nature " Therefore trade ha as successfully as he may, let him put on the semblance of religious seotina. Nt ,s he may, h^ is but a materia'ist, and when earthl* joys fail him, he has no other source of conso.ation, for his spiritual orbs are aig uless, or his vision is ob.ique. Perhaps, indeed, the lot of those in whom the spiritual in developed in preponderance, is even more unhappy in this world. When sentim-nt counterbalances calculation altogether, the result la disastrous The spirit then gropes about and finds no foothold— i<t h.re are a hundred p atforais of sectarianism, aad all weak. I should say the son of Anglicanism has the loosesi foothold of all ; f<jr he belongs to an institu ion foun led up jn aj Act of Parliament ('o say no more). There is no central authority and no disaipliae. but there are exaspera ing phantoms of both. For the so-called " Dissenter," what is there ? A sham, a hideous sham, a turmoil cf "private interpretation," a nauseiting P uritan issue ; a cloak for greed, graspingness, and cold-heartedness, a respectable-looking cloak too, which fits every wearer and shelters him fiom reproach, Marriage ala mode forsooth I Where is the Hogarth of this d •ade to give us Religion ala mode * Wtoat is the alternative then to the mini which hns not yet received (or rather has failed to perceive) the true light ? The alternative is the Dirk Abyss of free thought into whicn many noble souls have hurled themselves in despair. This is darkness There are souls wilfully and determinedly dark ; there are also souls driven into darkneßs. The latter are more numerous ; but the lot of both is hard. Dark ess bro >dmg on tha face of the waters is sid t > see. Ica i conceive no lot more dreadful than tnat of a soul which h s wilfully darkened itself, or has fljwa in despair from an apparently futile pursuit of h.rht, in'o the outer daikre-s ot unbelief. Yet that, I yen ure to say. has been the expert nee of most convert-. I would not beckon anyone into these dark snadows, yet I would like to see even the great proc^s-ioo that now yearly enters t'lem, uicreas.ng in nirnbers. Tri-i goon, the a«fuln> ss of this Cimmeria, nre indescribable, but there a Styx which everyon>- must cross who wdul I enj >y unlading ani true pleasures. Tne dangers and disadvantages of spiritual darkness, however, are not merely negative. T i say that the darkened soul gmh without all ti at the i lumuied soul enjoys do"S not exhaust the subj ct. Toe mmd spiri'ually dirk is haoie to fall v ider the m <u>,tei9 and influences that dwell in the darknets— pride vi m cllect, b^sotmeat, despau, — each able to wreck a human life. Pride of intellect is a conspicuous failing of civiluod humanity to day, and it is the tailing most difficult to convict anybody of. The iramtiisi' strides of scientific enquiry, the magnificent results that have been achieved in ihe domain of science, the ex* raordinaiy effects which these- htve had on humin lite, have in iced quickened and multiplied the growth of the infirmity, which, no >le and natural us it may aprear income aspecte, is still an infirmity which, allowed to remain undisturot.d, becomes a dangerous malady. Pride of intellect is fatal to the intellectual growth itself -much more to the spiritual or inner life. From it springs the Egoism which hinders piotjiess. mental and Bpiritu.il. It is quite a mistake, corrected by daily expenet cc, to think that the greatest minJi of the age are the least religiously incline 1 : it is just the greatest minds which are the u-H'-t besot with juidc of intr'ket an 1 are neireit to the Divine Idea' or b( mix "as htt c chil iren." The grea tst ben factors of the agentis its trutb-Htukeis, whose c\v. lilted t> the firmament, discern the ti\» lii' *l ,-iy well an the bnghtness of truth, who long far the Unseen hud adore the Una terable. The Helf-sntisfaclioi ttut follow^ t'lumphant rescau h is the pa r ent of Egoism, and th« forerunner (j£ dcolii o. It wa* so in agfß goue by, it is no t>- Uy. Tno *prea lof it is fatal to spiritual >ife. and the failure ol that growth will bave — ray. is having — tff cts appalling to c <ntemplate. "Take off thy shoes from off thy feet, fjr the place wheieoa thou Biandes r is holy ground " ; the inscription is fading in the sconhing heat of intellectual pride. The Unseen is to be appraised and subj cted to the ciuciblel "The oc> an and thj mountain of Divine Tiuth " must be he.d in the holiow of hu'uan miel. eel's " tiny haDd, or weighed in its tiny scales." l'rulu puJls dov»u the tcmplee and overthrows the shriucs, aud laugbd to scum

Ltti nin VffeCtlOnßthatV ffeCtlOnßthat »™ o ™* »nd sanctify them, sneer.. U h- fh K f° POlwe u ryey ce yeßtowary eßtoward 8 the veil, and mock* at the melodies that express the thousand emotions of the spiritual life. Bat ♦*« T I Feig V f terror la9t ? Jt is but « Bl >ort time when intellect finds how much religion has done to purify elevate, and restrain humanity and how powerless is mere intellect to grapple with the emotional vices, which religion so controlled. It was so in France, it is so in Italy. Pride of intellect is rampmt in the age of meducnty, and egoism. When the mind rejects the Eternal Verities, denies the Unseen, and refus s to accept sbr juded revelat.on, it m y enjiy a brief thrill of triumpknnt superiority, but this isd-arly bought with a cold and joyless life. He who crushes his aspirations and beats down his awe and reverence for the Uuseea is like an unnatural parent who crushes his offspring to death. Intellectml growth, unaccom pained by the flowers and foliage of the hean'a growth may be startling, but it is neither c during Dor lovely. And in the darkness besotment may occur. ' What does "sot' mean ? It means,— ass, fool ; blinded, steeped ; and something more. It means one who baa abandoned aspiration, who has ceased to Ion? for the Onseen, or to feel the thrill of a noble ambition. Besotmenc or the state of the sot, is like tuberculosis, more or less gradual in its development, but sure. The tubercle of the soul is born in darkness It shrinks from the light and does its dreadful work unseen It has done it upon the noblest victims. Hopeless and despairing the darkened mind abandons itself to the pleasures of the hour or at may be) seeks nepenthe. What are our temperance reformers about, with their quack nostrums and clumsy regimen T Here is the key to the worst developments of intemperance. Tne drunkenness that comes from mere physical exuberance is a very little thing compared with that wbxch proceeds from the blindness of the spirit, from hopeless gioping and despairing effort. Besotment, indifference to all consequences, aband »nment to the present, are the abysses into which those in the dark are prone to fall. The denouement of the dram* is despair,- complete loss of horje. Will the reader ace jmpany me to this profoundest depth ? It is not invitine, but my purpose is t > explore the bidden places ; for it is not in the light of day that tragical lives work themselves out ; it is in the dark. The misery we see is but a little of the misery that exists. It is not that the " light of God " ceases to shine upon the soul : it v that by years of self-indulgence, of pride of intellect, of nsregard ani denial,— the victim envelopes himself in a darkneag so dense that the ■oft beams of Heavenly Light are effectually shut out from him And it is to this sad condition that thousands of Luman hearts a-e reduced as I have shown. It is to this <ud condnon that secularism is bringing our youth. Despite the dark environment of the soul some spark of the Eternal fire, a " Star of the E ist " burns withinenough to prevent the heart from qnite forgetting the claims of the Provident Creator and the Generous fiede r m-r. Here is the tragedy The soul has encased itself and deprived itself of grace and guidance •' but it cannot extinguisn the eternal fire which ever stnve3 to stimu-' late it to virtue. Bu- by this time the soul is weakened, and when under the stimulus of inward fire ii 9 retches forth its hand for deliverance it fails to grasp it, and falls back into black despair It grows weaker with every futile effort an 1, aUays despaim g, dra«s out tne rest of its frightful term in unutterable misery. Here is the key to the wasted lives that go on around us d t.ly . Hera is the k^y to half ihe vice we see, to the strange abandonment of some of the best and mrst lovely lieea to the low st vine, to the phenomenon which one unhappy poet has r. ferred 10 in this pregnant line • — " Our sweetett songs a-e those which t-11 of sa idest t n lights." How little the casual obs rver knows i.f ibe deikness which the showy veil of laughter and biighin^s of en covers. To me, n> requitm is so sad, no passing hell so suggestive of woe— as the dazzling brightness of an ucna-uia' j >y. Aud we s.-e it ,\ ii v around us. It is a special product of the ag.' in which we live. How many mm is is the owift advauce of our civilisation and seculansm driving to despair ? n Thus far, dear re.der, have we explored the dark regions My guidance has been faithful, if :ot skiliul, an I I have s'nven cum jUtibut, to show you the horrors of ihe Dark. Valley, not to make a picture, but to bring you face to face with reality. You will perhaps answer me that it is useless to gain the lignt if we do not " walk as children of light." I am not sj pure of that. It is of course 1 reeminently desirable that spiritual illumination should be accompanied with actual reform of life. But I can conceive of the one preceding the other, of the spirit awakening in the dawn, but beiDg unable to at once marshal its subordinate forces into the right path There occurs then an incongruity ; — the inner and the outer mau arc not the same. But it is a victory, and the subordinate nof the hfe to the guidance of the aw.kened spiiit follows— tardily it maybe, but surely, and in the Final Judgment tne pious intention counts for mucn. This, however, is not all ; nor is it the greatest thiDg. The immediate effect of this awakening is less considerable than its ultimate effect, which is the infu-ion of spiu'.uahty into the generations that comd alter the conver s. The gum grows and fructifies in succeeding agrs ;— every germ of spirituality is a grain of good seed. And this brings us to the corfinea of the dirk regions. At this pnint the gloomy silence is broken by the jjjous bells that ushrr in the dawn. The peal, resounding "o'er moor, and crag, and fen " reaches our ears hs the first glimmer of light rewards our washing eyes. In this solemn moment we stand, appalled at the darkn>'«s> behind üb, and gladder td with the streak <f c ming light. We <.tan i on the verge. Our next step must bj upward to greet the ua*n or downwards* to dwell for ever with the niyht.