envious, or because we are sad, or because we dislike noise and romping-being so refined, or because, being so philosophic, we have an overwhelming sense of life's gravity; but at least as we go on in years we are all of us tempted to frown upon our neighbour's pleasures. People are fond nowadays of resisting temptation; here is one to be resisted. They are fond of self-denial; here is one that cannot be too peremptorily inculcated. There is an idea abroad among moral people that they should make their neighbours good. One person I have to make good-myself. But my duty to my neighbour is much more nearly expressed by saying that I have to make him happy-if I may.1 . . The kingdom of heaven is of the childlike, of those who are easy to please, who love and give pleasure. Gentleness and cheerfulness, -these come before all morality; they are the perfect duties. And it is the trouble with moral men that they have neither the one nor the other. It was the moral man, the Pharisee, whom Christ could not away with. If your morals make you

1 The philosophical reader will remember the same doctrine in Kant's Ethics.

dreary, depend upon it they are wrong. I do not say 'Give them up,' for they may be all you have; but conceal them like a vice, lest they should spoil the lives of better men than yourselves."

morose.

Un

Now I am afraid that this tendency to moroseness is the Englishman's besetting sin. There are cheerful, genial, merry men and women amongst us, thank God! but probably the proportion of morose men and women is greater than in any other country in the world. This is due in great measure to our detestable climate. less one has a cast-iron constitution it is not easy to be cheerful in a fog; it is difficult not to be All the more necessary therefore that we should be on our guard. It is the sin which doth so easily and constantly beset us that we must of all others endeavour to lay aside. M. Taine, in his 'History of English Literature,' has some amusing remarks on the influence of our climate upon our character. He shows how it has tended to make us sombre, heavy, sad, hateful. Pleasure was out of the question, he says, in such an atmosphere, and therefore we gave ourselves up to morality, the unlovable morality

of Puritanism. But, believe me, this morality— in so far as it is unlovable, in so far as it makes us melancholy in ourselves and morose to others -is not real morality. Genuine morality is not gloomy; it is lovable and gay. A man who keeps about three of the commandments expects to be called a moral man. What nonsense!

Such a man may be, and often is, in spite of his three "virtues," a curse to all who know him. Without laughter, without merriment, without perpetual cheerfulness, we shall never make the best of ourselves, we shall never do our best in the world. If we care for ourselves therefore, if we care for others, we shall do everything in our power to cultivate a gladsome, merry disposition. "A merry heart doth good like a medicine." And yet so few Englishmen possess it. As a nation we have long been kept under the hateful yoke of Puritanism. But we are not to remain under it for ever. We are already struggling to shake it off. And when at last we are free from this accursed bondage, when the Lord turns again our captivity, our mouths will be filled with laughter.

220

The Resurrection of the Body.

SOME

OME time ago, after I had been preaching upon Immortality, I received the following anonymous letter:

"SIR,-From what you said yesterday, I gather that you do not believe in the Resurrection of the Body. But if there is no resurrection, how shall I be able to recognise my friends in the next life ? To console myself, when I got home I read the 15th chapter of the 1st Epistle to the Corinthians."

Now I am always grateful for such foolish letters. I will tell you why. One of the great difficulties which a public teacher has to contend with is this. The persons who hold the errors and superstitions which he attacks, con

stantly accuse him of having misrepresented them. It is eminently satisfactory therefore to possess in black and white the statement of their views from one of themselves. My anonymous friend represents a very large class. He believes in the resurrection of the body, using the word body in its ordinary sense. He does not see that such a belief is repugnant to common-sense, that it involves the grossest absurdities, and that the profession of it as an article of faith is most dishonouring to the Deity.

To begin with, I must point out the impropriety of speaking of the resurrection of the body, as if you had only one! The substance of your physical organism is constantly changing. You have to-day an entirely different body from that which you had a few years ago, and from that which you will have a few years hence. Which of these bodies is to rise again? It has occasionally been held that they are all to be raised; that every particle of matter, which ever formed part of an individual's organism upon earth, will be incorporated into his resurrection body. At that rate you would