"TAKE HEED !"
We regret to be obliged to say that all are not metaphysicians, or Christian Scientists, who call themselves so. Charlatanism, fraud, and malice are getting into the ranks of the good and pure, sending forth a poison more deadly than the upas-tree in the eastern archipelago. This evil obtains in the present false teaching and false practice of the Science of treating disease through Mind. The silent address of a mental malpractitioner can only be portrayed in these words of the apostle, "whisperers," and "the poison of asps is under their tongue."
Some of the mere puppets of the hour are playing only for money, and at a fearful stake. Others, from malice and envy, are working out the destinies of the damned. But while the best, perverted, on the mortal plane may become the worst, let us not forget that the Lord reigns, and that this earth shall some time rejoice in His supreme rule, -- that the tired watchmen on the walls of Zion, and the true Christian Scientist at the foot of the mount of revelation, shall look up with shouts and thanksgiving, -- that God's law, as in divine Science, shall be finally understood; and the gospel of glad tidings bring "on earth peace, good will toward men."
THE CRY OF CHRISTMAS-TIDE
Metaphysics, not physics, enables us to stand erect on sublime heights, surveying the immeasurable universe of Mind, peering into the cause which governs all effects, while we are strong in the unity of God and man. There is "method" in the "madness" of this system, -- since madness it seems to many onlookers. This method sits serene at the portals of the temple of thought, while the leaders of materialistic schools indulge in mad antics. Metaphysical healing seeks a wisdom that is higher than a rhubarb tincture or an ipecacuanha pill. This method is devout enough to trust Christ more than it does drugs.
Meekly we kneel at our Master's feet, for even a crumb that falleth from his table. We are hungry for Love, for the white-winged charity that heals and saves; we are tired of theoretic husks, -- as tired as was the prodigal son of the carobs which he shared with the swine, to whom he fed that wholesome but unattractive food. Like him, we would find our Father's house again -- the perfect and eternal Principle of man. We thirst for inspiring wine from the vine which our Father tends. We crave the privilege of saying to the sick, when their feebleness calls for help, "Rise and walk." We rejoice to say, in the spirit of our Master, "Stretch forth thy hand, and be whole!"
When the Pharisees saw Jesus do such deeds of mercy, they went away and took counsel how they might remove him. The antagonistic spirit of evil is still abroad; but the greater spirit of Christ is also abroad, -- risen from the grave-clothes of tradition and the cave of ignorance. Let the sentinels of Zion's watch-towers shout once again, "Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given."
In different ages the divine idea assumes different forms, according to humanity's needs. In this age it assumes, more intelligently than ever before, the forms of Christian healing. This is the babe we are to cherish. This is the babe that twines its loving arms about the neck of omnipotence, and calls forth infinite care from His loving heart.
BLIND LEADERS
What figure is less favorable than a wolf in sheep's clothing? The braying donkey whose ears stick out is less troublesome. What manner of man is it that has discovered an improvement on Christian Science, a "metaphysical healing" by which error destroys error, and would gather all sorts into a "national convention" by the sophistry that such as the true fold for Christian healers, since the good shepherd cares for all?
Yes; the good Shepherd does care for all, and His first care is to separate the sheep from the goats; and this is among the first lessons on healing taught by our great Master.
If, as the gentleman aforesaid states, large flocks of metaphysicians are wondering about without a leader, what has opened his eyes to see the need of taking them out of the care of the great Shepherd, and behold the remedy, to help them by his own leadership? Is it that he can guide Christian Scientists better than they, through the guidance of our common Father, can guide themselves? or is it that they are incapable of helping themselves thus?
I as their teacher can say, They know far more of Christian Science than he who deprecates their condition appears to, and my heart pleads for them to possess more and more of Truth and Love; but mixing all grades of persons is not productive of the better sort, although he who has self-interest in this mixing is apt to propose it.
Whoever desires to say, "good right, and good wrong," has no truth to defend. It is a wise saying that "men are known by their enemies." To sympathize in any degree with error, is not to rectify it; but error are always strives to unite, in a definition of purpose, with Truth, to give it buoyancy. What is under the mask, but error in borrowed plumes? "CHRIST AND CHRISTMAS"
An Illustrated Poem
This poem and its illustrations are as hopelessly original as is "Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures." When the latter was first issued, critics declared that it was incorrect, contradictory, unscientific, unchristian; but those human opinions had not one feather's weight in the scales of God. The fact remains, that the textbook of Christian Science is transforming the universe.
"Christ and Christmas" voices Christian Science through song and object-lesson. In two weeks from the date of its publication in December, 1893, letters extolling it were pouring in from artists and poets. A mother wrote, "Looking at the pictures in your wonderful book has healed my child."
Knowing that this book would produce a stir, I sought the judgment of sound critics familiar with the works of masters in France and Italy. From them came such replies as the following: "The illustrations of your poem are truly a work of art, and the artist seems quite familiar with delineations from the old masters." I am delighted to find "Christ and Christmas" in accord with the ancient and most distinguished artists.
The Christian Science Journal gives no uncertain declaration concerning the spirit and mission of "Christ in Christmas."
I aimed to reproduce, with reverent touch, the modest glory of divine Science. Not by aid of foreign device or environment could I copy art, --never having seen the painter's masterpieces; but the art of Christian Science, with true hue and character of the living God, is akin to its Science: and Science and Health gives scopes and shades to the shadows of divinity, thus imparting to humanity the true sense of meekness and might.
One incident serves to illustrate the simple nature of art.
I insisted upon placing the serpent behind the woman in the picture "Seeking and Finding." My artist at the easel objected, as he often did, to my sense of Soul's expression through the brush; but, as usual, he finally yielded. A few days afterward, the following from Rotherham's translation of the New Testament was handed to me, --I had never before seen it: "And the serpent cast out of his mouth, behind the woman, water as a river, that he might cause her to be river-borne." Neither material finesse, standpoint, nor perspective guides the infinite Mind and spiritual vision that should, does, guide His children.
One great master clearly delineates Christ's appearing in the flesh, and his healing power, as clad not in soft raiment or gorgeous apparel; and when forced out of its proper channel, as living feebly, in kings' courts. This master's thought presents a sketch of Christianity's state, in the early part of the Christian era, as homelessness in a wilderness. But in due time Christianity entered into synagogues, and, as St. Mark writes, it has rich possession here, with houses and lands. In Genesis we read that God gave man dominion over all things; and this assurance is followed by Jesus' declaration, "All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth," and by his promise that the Christlike shall finally sit down at the right hand of the Father.
Christian Science is more than a prophet or a prophecy: it presents not words alone, but works, --the daily demonstration of Truth and Love. Its healing and saving power was so great a proof of Immanuel and the realism of Christianity, that it caused even the publicans to justify God. Although clad in panoply of power, the Pharisees scorned the spirit of Christ in most of its various manifestations. To them it was cant and caricature, --always the opposite of what it was. Keen and alert was their indignation at whatever rebuked hypocrisy and demanded Christianity in life and religion. In view of this, Jesus said, "Wisdom is justified of all her children."
Above the fogs of sense and storms of passion, Christian Science and its art will rise triumphant; ignorance, envy, and hatred-- earth's harmless thunder-- pluck not their heaven-born wings. Angels, with overtures, hold charge over both, and announce their Principle and idea.
It is most fitting that Christian Scientists memorize the nativity of Jesus. To him who brought a great light to all ages, and named his burdens light, homage is indeed due, --but is bankrupt. I never looked on my ideal of the face of the Nazarite Prophet; but the one illustrating my poem approximates it.
Extremists in every age either doggedly deny or frantically affirm what is what: one renders not unto Caesar "the things that are Caesar's;" the other sees "Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt."
Pictures are portions of one's ideals, but this ideal is not one's personality. Looking behind the veil, he that perceives a semblance between the thinker and his thought on canvas, blames him not.
Because my ideal of an angel is a woman without feathers on her wings, --is it less artistic or less natural? Pictures which present disordered phases of material conceptions and personality blind with animality, are not my concepts of angels. What is the material ego, but the counterfeit of the spiritual?
The truest art of Christian Science is to be a Christian Scientist; and it demands more than a Raphael to delineate this art.
The following is an extract from a letter reverting to the illustrations of "Christ and Christmas": --
"In my last letter, I did not utter all I felt about the wonderful new book you have given us. Years ago, while in Italy, I studied the old masters and their great works of art thoroughly, and so got quite an idea of what constitutes true art. Then I spent two years in Paris, devoting every moment to the study of music and art.
"The first thing that impressed me in your illustrations was the conscientious application to detail, which is the foundation of true art. From that, I went on to study each illustration thoroughly, and to my amazement and delight I find an almost identical resemblance, in many things, to the old masters! In other words, the art is perfect.
"The hands and feet of the figures-- how many times have I seen these-hands and feet in the Angelico's 'Jesus,' or Botticelli's 'Madonna'!
"It gave me such a thrill of joy as no words can express, to see produced to-day that art-- the only art-- that we have identified with the old masters, and mourned as belonging to them exclusively, --a thing of the past, impossible of reproduction.
"All that I can say to you, as one who gives no mean attention to such matters, is that the art is perfect. It is the true art of the oldest, most revered, most authentic Italian school, revived. I use the words most authentic in the following sense: the face, figure, and drapery of Jesus, very closely resemble in detail the face, figure, and drapery of that Jesus portrayed by the oldest of the old masters, and said to have been authentic; the face having been taken by Fra Angelico from Caesar's Cameo, the figure and garments from a description, in The Galaxy, of a small sketch handed down from the living reality. Their productions are expressionless copies of an engraving cut in a stone. Yours is a palpitating, living Saviour engraven on the heart. You have given us back our Jesus, and in a much better form."
SUNRISE AT PLEASANT VIEW
Who shall describe the brave splendor of a November sky that this morning burst through the lattice for me, on my bed? According to terrestrial calculations, above the horizon, in the east, there rose one rod of rainbow hues, crowned with an acre of eldritch ebony. Little by little this topmost pall, drooping over a deeply dazzling sunlight, softened, grew gray, then gay, and glided into a glory of mottled marvels. Fleecy, faint, fairy blue and golden flecks came out on a background of cerulean hue; while the lower lines of light kindled into gold, orange, pink, crimson, violet; and diamond, topaz, opal, garnet, turquoise, and sapphire spangled the gloom in celestial space as with the brightness of His glory. Then thought I, What are we, that He who fashions forever such forms and hues of heaven, should move our brush or pen to paint frail fairness or to weave a web of words that glow with gladdening gleams of God, so unapproachable, and yet so near and full of radiant relief in clouds and darkness!
