or, in other words, it can only be because we have practised an anterior asking in order to obtain the asking which has been vouchsafed to us. Therefore this asking must ultimately, according to the very first requisitions of Christianity, fall to be considered as our own act; and now, then, we put the question to those who maintain the doctrine just stated—must we not "ask," must not this "asking" be our own deed, and do you call this doing nothing for ourselves? In the same way does not the Gospel say, "seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you," evidently holding forth seeking as the condition of our finding, and knocking as the condition upon which "it shall be opened." And, now, must not this "seeking" and this "knocking" be done by ourselves; and if they must, what becomes of the doctrine that man can do nothing, and must attempt to do nothing, for himself?
This doctrine, that we can do nothing for ourselves, is based upon an evident oversight and confusion of thought in the mind of the espousers of it. "Attempt no toil of your own," say these inert disciplinarians of humanity, "but seek ye the kingdom of heaven in the revealed word of God, and there ye shall find it with all its blessings." True; but these teachers overlook the fact that there are two distinct questions, and two distinct tasks, involved in this precept of "seeking the kingdom of heaven." To some people, the injunction, "seek for it faithfully, and ye shall find it in the Scriptures," may be sufficient. But others, again, (and we believe the generality of men are in this predicament) may require, first of all, to be informed about a very different matter, and may be unable to rest satisfied until they have obtained this information: they may demand, namely, an answer to a new question—but where shall we find the seeking of the kingdom of heaven? Before finding itself, we must know how, and where, and in what way, we are to find the seeking of it; for that is the great secret which eludes and baffles our researches.
The only answer that can be given to these querists is, you must find the seeking of it in yourselves. The Bible reveals to us the kingdom of heaven itself; but philosophy it is that leads us to the discovery of our own search after it. To this discovery philosophy leads us, by teaching us to know ourselves—by teaching us what we really are. And what does philosophy teach us respecting ourselves? Does she teach us that we stand in a harmonious relation towards the universe around us—towards the universe within us—towards the world of our own passions and desires—towards the strength or the weaknesses (be they which they may) of our own flesh and blood? And does she thus show us that the life of man here below is a life of blessedness and repose? No!—on the contrary, she shows us that our very act of consciousness, on the one hand; and, on the other hand, all the natural laws and conditions under which we are born, stand in a relation of diametrical discord towards each other: that we are made up of passions and susceptibilities, every one of which is thwarted and condemned in our very consciousness of it: that "there is a law in our members" (the causal law) "warring against the law in our minds" (the law of will, of freedom, of consciousness); and that the war between these two laws is one which no truce, brought about by human diplomacy, can ever still. For though consciousness may act against evil, yet it can never change the mere resistance of evil into a positive body of good. Consciousness may resist wrath, but it cannot convert this resistance of wrath into a positive peaceful-mindedness. Consciousness may resist hatred, but this act cannot transmute the resistance of hatred into positive and substantial love. Consciousness may resist selfishness, but it cannot convert this resistance of selfishness into a decided and abiding spirit of charity. This conversation cannot be effected by consciousness or by philosophy, it must be effected by the intervention of a higher power—building, however, on the ground-work which consciousness lays in its antagonism against evil; and this is what philosophy herself teaches unto man. She shows him, that so long as our consciousness and our passions merely are in the field, although it is true that our regeneration must commence in their strife, yet that these elements meet together only in a bitter and interminable struggle, and do not embody of themselves any positive issues of good. Thus is he led by the very strife which philosophy reveals to
