^ The form which the infidelity of England, especially, has taken, is one hitherto unheard of in human history. No nation
1 W. H. M. H. Aitken, The School of Grace, 97.
26o SAVING AND INSTRUCTING GRACE
ever before declared boldly, by print and word of mouth, that its religion was good for show, but "would not work." Over and over again it has happened that nations have denied their gods, but they denied them bravely. The Greeks in their decline jested at their religion, and frittered it away in flatteries and fine arts ; the French refused theirs fiercely, tore down their altars and brake their carven images. The question about God with both these nations was still, even in their decline, fairly put, though falsely answered. " Either there is or is not a Supreme Ruler ; we consider of it, declare there is not, and proceed accordingly." But we English have put the matter in an entirely new light : " There is a Supreme Ruler, no question of it, only He cannot rule. His orders won't work. He will be quite satisfied with euphonious and respectful repetition of them. Execution would be too dangerous under existing circumstances, which He certainly never contemplated." . . . The entire naivete and undisturbed imbecility with which I found persons declare that the laws of the Devil were the only practicable ones, and that the laws of God were merely a form of poetical language, passed all that I had ever before heard or read of mortal infidelity. I knew the fool had often said in his heart, there was no God ; but to hear him say clearly out with his lips, " There is a foolish God," was some- thing which my art studies had not prepared me for. The French had indeed, for a considerable time, hinted much of the meaning in the delicate and compassionate blasphemy of their phrase " le hon Dieu," but had never ventured to put it into more precise terms.^
(2) Worldly lusts. — The word " lusts " here has not the carnal associations clea\dng to it which have gradually accrued to it in the changes of language since our translation was made ; it implies simply desires, longings, of however refined and incor- poreal a sort, which attach themselves to the fleeting things of this life. Pride, ambition, and all the more refined and less sensual desires are as much included as the grossest animalism in which any man can wallow. Worldly lusts are desires which say to earth, and to what earth can give, in any of its forms, " Thou art my god, and having thee I am satisfied."
Now the Apostle affirms that we have denied worldly lust as well as ungodliness. We have renounced and repudiated it for ever. But here rises the question. How have the world and worldly lust been thus denied ? or how are we to deny it ? and
^ Ruskin, Modern Painters, v. ch. xii. § 5 ( Works, vii. 445).
TITUS II. II, 12 261
how are we to be freed from it ? Various answers to this inquiry meet us from different quarters.
(a) "Turn your back upon the world," says the ascetic. " Wander into the depths of the desert. Shut yourself up in a hermit's cave, or hide yourself witliin a monastic enclosure." But even so, how shall I be sure that I may not carry a little world of my own along with me ? And is there not a possibility that that little world of my own may be just as opposed to God, and just as tyrannous and exacting, as the bigger world that I have run away from ? Am I quite sure that monastery walls will shut the world out ? Or is the world so subtle that perhaps its spirit may find its way through bricks and mortar ? Yes, even within the enclosures of a monastery there may be just as much of real essential worldliness as in the hubbub of a great city.
(6) "Despise it," says the cynic. "Be indifferent to all considerations of pain and pleasure. Never mind what the world thinks of you. Eejoice in being peculiar. Abstain from doing what men generally do, just because they generally do it. And do things that no one else would think of doing, just because no one else does them. The more peculiar and extraordinary you make yourself, the more you will issue a kind of protest against conventional life ; and thereby you will gradually train and educate yourself to a position of in- dependence, and will be ready to tell your Alexander to stand out of your sunshine." Yes, that sounds very sublime ; but is it really so ? May not our Diogenes be creating for himself a greater conqueror, or a greater tyrant, in his own inflated self- consciousness, than ever was an Alexander or a Xerxes ?
(c) I am living in the world. I am surrounded by the influ- ences of the world. How am I to be lifted up above them ? We shall ask a certain tent-maker whether he can throw any light, such as neither mediseval ascetic nor cynio philosopher can throw, upon this great and all-important problem. And we hear him reply, " God, far be it from me to glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world hath been crucified unto me, and I unto the world." That is his answer ; and if we would ask him, " Who taught you that lesson ? " we have not to wait long for a reply. Grace had taught St. Paul that lesson. He learned it, not on Sinai, but at Calvary. As he gazed on the cross