And yet the very existence of such men is in itself a significant
comment upon the Scriptural decision that "the world by wisdom knew not
God." For how many like them, out of all the records of antiquity, is it
possible for us to count? Are there five men in the whole circle of
ancient history and ancient literature to whom we could, without a sense
of incongruity, accord the title of "holy?" When we have mentioned
Socrates, Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius, I hardly know of another.
_Just_ men there were in multitudes--men capable of high actions; men
eminently worthy to be loved; men, I doubt not, who, when the children
of the kingdom shall be rejected, shall be gathered from the east and
the west with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, into the kingdom of heaven.
Yes, _just_ men in multitudes; but how many _righteous_, how many
_holy_? Some, doubtless, whom we do not know, whose names were never
written, even for a few years, on the records of mankind--men and women
in unknown villages and humble homes, "the faithful who were not
famous." We do not doubt that there were such--but were they
_relatively_ numerous? If those who rose above the level of the
multitude--if those whom some form of excellence, and often of virtue,
elevated into the reverence of their fellows--present to us a few
examples of stainless life, can we hope that a tolerable ideal of
sanctity was attained by any large proportion of the ordinary myriads?
Seeing that the dangerous lot of the majority was cast amid the
weltering sea of popular depravity, can we venture to hope that many of
them succeeded in reaching some green island of purity, integrity, and
calm? We can hardly think it; and yet, in the dispensation of the
Kingdom of Heaven we see such a condition daily realized. Not only do we
see many of the eminent, but also countless multitudes of the lowly and
obscure, whose common lives are, as it were, transfigured with a light
from heaven. Unhappy, indeed, is he who has not known such men in