in its own manufactures it would make its garments, in its own famous medical school it would seek its cure;
it did not feel its need, but was content with what it had. It was neither truly Christian, nor frankly pagan.
This letter, alone among the Seven, seems not t o bring the character of the Church into close relation to the
great natural features amid which the city stood; but on the other hand it shows a very intimate connection
between the character attributed to the Church and the commerce by which the city had grown great.
The second half of this letter gradually passes into an epilogue to the whole Seven; and this proves that, in
spite of the individual character of each letter, they form after all only parts in an elaborate and highly
wrought piece of litera ture. It is hardly possible to say exactly where the individual letter ends and the
epilogue begins; in appearance the whole bears the form after which all the letters are modelled; but there is
a change from the individualisation of the letter to the general application of the epilogue.
To comprehend more fully the individuality of the Seven Letters one should compare them with the letters of
Ignatius to the five Asian Churches, Ephesus, Smyrna, Magnesia, Tralleis, Philadelphia, or with the letter of
Clement to the Corinthian Church. Ignatius, it is true, had probably seen only two of the five, and those only
cursorily; so that the vagueness, the generality, and the lack of individual traits in all his letters were
inevitable. He insists on topics which were almost equally suitable to all Christians, or on those which not
unnaturally filled his own mind in view of his coming fate.
But it is a remarkable fact that the more definite and personal and individual those old Christian letters are,
the more vital and full of guidance are they to all readers. The individual letters touch life most nearly; and
the life of any one man or Church appeals most intimately to all men and all Churches.
The more closely we study the New Testament books and compare them with the natural conditions, the
localities and the too scanty evidence from other sources about the life and society of the first century, the
more full of meaning do we find them, the more strongly impressed are we with their unique character, and
the more wonderful becomes the picture that is unveiled to us in them of the growth of the Christian Church.
It is because they were written with the utmost fulness of vigour and life by persons who were entirely
absorbed in the great practical tasks which their rapidly growing organisation imposed on them, because
they stand in the closest relation to the facts of the age, that so much can be gathered from them. They rise
to the loftiest heights to which man in the fulness of inspiration and perfect sympathy with the Divine will
and purpose can attain, but they stand firmly planted on the facts of earth. The Asian Church was so
successful in moulding and modifying the institutions around it because with unerring insight its leaders
saw the deep-seated character of those Seven Cities, their strength and their weakness, as determined by
their natural surroundings, their past history, and their national character.
This series of studies of the Seven Letters may perhaps be exposed to the charge of imagining fanciful
connections between the natural surroundings of the Seven cities and the tone of the Letters. Those who
are accustomed to the variety of character that exists in the West may refuse to acknowledge that there
exists any such connection between the character of the natural surroundings and the spirit, the Angel, of
the Church.
But Western analogy is misleading. We Occidentals are accustomed to struggle against Nature, and by
understanding Nature's laws to subjugate her to our needs. When a waterway is needed, as at Glasgow, we
transform a little stream into a navigable river. Where a harbour is necessary to supply a defect in nature, we
construct with vast toil and at great cost an artificial port. We regulate the flow of dangerous rivers, utilising
all that they can give us and restraining them from inflicting the harm they are capable of. Thus in
numberless ways we refuse to yield to the influences that surround us, and by hard work rise superior in
some degree to them.
Such analogy must not be applied without careful consideration in Asia. There man is far more under the
influence of nature; and hence results a homogeneity of character in each place which is surprising to the
Western traveller, and which he can hardly believe or realise without long experience. Partly that subjection
may be due to the fact that nature and the powers of nature are on a vaster scale in Asia. You can climb the