THE SPIRITUAL LIFE.[Q]
We have reached the end of our long journey, and now we are ready to turn back and start for home.
[Q] An Address to College Students at the close of a course of lectures on Egypt and her Monuments. Illustrated by lantern photographs.
The Reis is at his helm, the great sail is furled and bound closely to the long yard; for, as the wind during the early spring blows here constantly from the north, we must depend on the rapid current of the Nile to bear us back to civilization: a river which, flowing through so many generations of men from the unknown to the unlimited, not unfitly typifies the course of history; and as, in imagination, we drift with this historical stream, we can not fail to learn the lesson which the associations and the scenes are so calculated to teach. That lesson is the grandeur, the glory, and the immortality of the spiritual life of man.
We go back six thousand years, and find the Sphinx, as to-day, looking toward the rising sun, and pondering the problem of human destiny.
The pyramid-builders come, and erect those neighboring piles to preserve their bodies when dead for that glorious destiny in which they trust.
The long procession of the Pharaohs passes, and each inscribes indelibly on rocky walls his faith in the great God who holds human destiny in his hands.
Moses comes, and leads out of Egypt the chosen people to prepare the way for the expected Messiah.
The Assyrians and the Persians come, and, while seeking to read their destiny in the courses of the stars, pay homage to the same great hope.
The Greeks come, and, even amid gross licentiousness and idolatry, erect magnificent temples, in attestation of a belief in human destiny which, however degraded, still survived.
The Romans come, and in this mystic land lay aside their legal codes, and add their testimony to the same great truth.
The Christian hermits come, and make the storied stones of the Pharaohs re-echo with their triumphant songs.
The Arab comes, and, as morning and evening he gazes into the East, sees visions of the glorious Mecca of his hopes for which the Sphinx has looked so long.
Last of all, the modern traveler comes, and he journeys in vain if he does not recognize in all this aspiration and all this yearning the attestation of those spiritual truths which to him the risen Christ has revealed.
As in material nature every unemployed organ distinctly points to a previous use or to a future fruition: so, in the spiritual world, every striving is a promise of a possible good; and these yearnings of humanity, which have come down through the ages, are as truly a promise of the Eternal as were the words spoken to Abraham on the plains of Mamre.
Coming home from the East, we can not fail to see, more clearly than before, how artificial are most of the conventionalities of our modern civilization, and how greatly such cares of the world tend to obscure the great distinction between the spiritual and the material which is ever present to Oriental thought; and this is especially true in our own country, where the demands of material nature are so pressing, and where the physical wants, which our highly artificial life entails, so completely engross the attention of us all.
It is well to go away at times, that we may see another aspect of human life, which still survives in the East, and to feel that influence which led even the Christ into the wilderness to prepare for the struggle with the animal nature of man.
We need something of the experience of the anchorites of Egypt to impress us with the great truth that the distinction between the spiritual and the material remains broad and clear, even if with the scalpel of our modern philosophy we can not completely dissect the two; and this experience will give us courage to cherish our aspirations, keep bright our hopes, and hold fast our Christian faith until the consummation comes.
My young friends, there are many who will tell you that the Sphinx has merely propounded a riddle to the ages; and that the yearnings of your young lives--like those of the early Egyptians, who set up this memorial of their hopes--are merely a delusion and a snare.
Do not believe in any such pessimism.
It is merely the dying gasp of your animal nature! But give your utmost efforts that these aspirations be not smothered by the cares and trials which must come to you as they come to all.
Have faith in the Eternal who implanted those cravings in your nature; and remember that all knowledge rests on the assurance that the Eternal can not be false. Be loyal to the truth of that witness in your hearts, and advancing years will only bring you increased reliance on the promises he ever whispers to those who trust him; and he will certainly lead you, at last--as he has led the faithful in all ages--into the clear light of the perfect day.
My fellow-students, if these fleeting pictures of scenes which have given me fresh courage, shall aid any of you in the conflict of life, my object in these lectures will be gained, and however incongruous with the associations of physical science such scenes may have appeared, you will bear me witness that the great lesson they teach has constantly been enforced in this place. The spiritual life of man recognizes its exalted intellectual likeness in the life of Nature, and it is this vision of the Omniscient which distinguishes and ennobles mental culture, whether it be in the fields of science, of literature, or of art.
[The end]
Josiah Parsons Cooke's essay: Spiritual Life