~fl~~wfr ~ ~* NEW ENGLANDER AND YALE REVIEW. No. CCLXII. JANUAIRY, 1892. ARTICLE 1.ABOLITIONISTS AND PROHIBITIONISTS; OR MORAL REFORM EMBARRASSED BY ULTRA- ISM. IN a masterly discussion of the Anti-slavery movement of half a century ago, the late Dr. Austin Phelps divides those who took part in it into three general classes, whom he calls resistants, destructives, and reformers. The resistants are the conservatives, and include all who are content with things as they are, and deprecate any innovations that will disturb the existing order of society. Their maxim is, Let well enough alone. The destructives are they who fix the eye upon the acknowledged wrongs of slavery, and demand its immediate and nnconditional abolition. To tolerate is to participate, to participate is to sanction, to sanction is to be accessory to the crime. No resistance can be too instant, no denunciation too passionate, no words too bitter, no assault too violent, no move- ment too convulsive, and no sacrifice too costly. They were men of one idea. They saw no difference between an individ VOL. XX. 1 2 Abolitionist8 and Prohihitionist8; [Jan., nal offense and a moral wrong ingrained by sinful usage into the texture of the body politic. Wrong was wrong, and that was the end of the argument. What was left to argue about? A wrong interlaced with, and grown nnder the traditions, the usages, the laws, the institutions, and wills of a nation of inde- pendent minds, must be treated as if it were the whim of one man. A wrong inherited centuries ago was to be no more patiently dealt with than a wrong enacted yesterday. They therefore trusted nothing to the slow foot of time. Institutions which had taken ages in the building, must be revolutionized in a night. Their theory took the whole subject of American slavery out of the domain of practical statesmanship, and con- signed it to the conscience of a child. In the temper of all extremists, they followed the natural order. They flew into a passion, and spit venom. In debate they were intrepid in the language of abuse, and were never at a loss for a malign epithet. Our National Constitution was a covenant with hell; ~ the Union was a fraternity of man- stealers, and the Christian churches were bands of thugs, and constituted out of the spawn of hell; and God damn the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, the climax of their oratory. They were absolutely devoid of the charity that simifereth long, and is kind; that vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, is not easily provdked, and beareth all things. Possessed of the devil of one idea, they were not trammeled by qualified convictions. Opinions on problems germane to the exigency of government, and which statesmen discuss in a spirit of inquiry, they held as cer- tainties, absolute in evidence, and imperial in authority. The swelling bulk of their conceit gave emphasis to the fury of their dissent. A farmer burned his barns to get rid of the rats; and these men carried the torch of the incendiary, exult- ing in their aim to accomplish their purpose in their way or to lay in ashes the temple of the Republic. Northern hordes never assailed the choicest memorials of civilized life in South- ern Europe with a more malignant ferocity than did the leaders of abolitionism in New England all that was sacred in our his- tory. It was in keeping with their temper, says Prof. Phelps, that they should avowedly, and on principle, fling 1892.] or iJijoral Reform Embarra8sed by Ultrai8m. 3 the weight of their cause upon the power of invective. Argu- ment was secondary, because conclusions were foregone. They made a study of denunciation as of a fine art. A new epithet of vituperation, or figure of objurgatory speech, was to their dialect like a new rifle to an arsenal. Therefore he adds: They were destructives in their theories of government; they were destructives in their measures of policy; they were destructives in their judgments of institutions and of public men; they were destructives in their style of debate. Their magnetism, therefore, drew into alliance with them, as that of such men always does, sympathetic destructives of every stripe and color. To a looker-on, it seemed as if all the cranks on the continent were drawn in invisible grooves to the platform of abolition. Divorced women could talk there of the tyranny of marriage laws; beardless boys could expose there the blun- ders of Moses and the barbarism of the Old Testament; social- ists could expound there the inhumanity of property in land; laborers on the strike could denounce there the despotism of capital; come-outers could recite there in sing-song the corrup- tion of the Church; in short, every bee in everybodys bonnet had a chance to hum there. In confirmation of this represen- tation, the writer quotes the following words from Ralph Waldo Emerson, written in description of an assemblage of which he himself was a member. If the assembly was dis- orderly, it was picturesque. Madmen, Madwomen, men with beards, iDunkers, Muggletonians, Come-outers, Groaners, Agrarians, Seventh-Day Baptists, Quakers, Abolitionists, Cal- v~nists, Unitarians, and Philosophers,all come successively to the top. Such now were the extreme positions held during the prog- ress of the Anti-slavery agitation of the past century in the Northern States of our Union. On the one hand stood the resistants, conservative to a fault; and on the other, the so- called Abolitionists, who pushed their schemes with a destruc- tive violence. Midway between these extremes stood the gennine reformers. They constituted the vast majority of the Northern people. Among them were to be found as the natural leaders in reform measures, the Christian churches; themselves under the guidance of an educated, judicious, and aggressive 4 Abolitionist8 and P~ohibitioni8t8; [Jan., Ministry. In this mass of intelligent Northern mind, occa- sionally could be found persons, who, on biblical grounds sym- pathized with the South in her defense of human servitude. This small number was augmented by a few more who accounted slavery as guaranteed to the South in the constitu- tion, and who deprecated all discussion of the subject as involv- ing a treasonable intent. The resistants, without giving the subject any special attention, coincided with the one or the other of these views. With these exceptions, we may say that the vast proportion of the people of the North were a unit in their opposition to slavery. They did not oppose the institution as southern; but as unbiblical, inhumane, and intrinsically wrong. President Lincoln only expresssd the sentiment of nine-tenths of the people of the North for two hundred years, when he said: If slavery is not wrong, nothing is wrong. The antagonism was not between the North and South, but between two types of civilizations dominating the two sections of the country. Antecedents working historically and organ- ically in the two sections decreed these types, the South being no more responsible for its type than the North. The intelligent and judicious minds of the North took this fundamental view of the difficulty; and they agreed in saying that all plans inaugurated for an improved condition of things at the South must be in sympathy with the South as a sufferer under a sys- tem of domestic life which the founders of the government, including northern men, had entailed upon her. They beheld in the South, Christian Churches as genuine and as sincere as their own, and under the instruction of an educated and devout ministry. They no more questioned the essential genuineness of the Christianity of the South, because in very many essential particulars it was not up to their standard, than the South would repudiate the Christianity of England in the 16th century because it was of a lower grade than their own. It is conceded that there was a tidal movement in the civilization of the North that was, of necessity, aggressive in its revolutionary influence upon the South. But the aggression here, was the aggression of a man of noble culture upon a neighbor who needed the contagious and ameliorating influence of such cul- ture and who in a vast majority of cases would be grateful for 1892.] or Morcd Reform Embarra8eed by Ultraism. 5 it. From the first, and to within a few years of the war between the States, the South in a thousand ways was hospitable to Northern influences and ideas. Her young men were found often in Northern institutions of learning. Her best teachers were often graduates from Northern colleges and seminaries. Northern literature found in the reading public of the South an appreciative patronage. Meanwhile there came to the North a type of culture and manliness a nobility of spirit and of manners that did something towards repaying the debt due from the South. It is to be observed that the South never objected to Northern influences when they were turned upon her in broadsides, and had for their object a harmonious and symmetrical elevation, by educational and moral means, of the entire South. Such now was the attitude of the ereat bulk of the thinking niluds of the North towards the South as encumbered by slavery, for years. In its heart there was no disposition to tol- erate 4avery; but it would tolerate a civilization on the sub- ject which was not on the level of its moral and political ideas. Prof. Phelps here adds: Mr. Webster never uttered a truer word than when he told the Senate of the United States that hostility to slavery was born in the religion of his constituents. It was their ancestral birthright. They drank it in with their mothers milk. They breathed it in the atmosphere of their Sunday-schools and their family prayers. They were taught it in the thoughtful sermons of their pulpits, and in the masterly decisions of their courts. They sung it on Thanksgiving and Fast Days in the ballads of the farm and the workshop. Even the doggerel of Yankee Doodle, by its associations with Independence Day and Bunker Hill, had become their festal song of liberty. No power of suasion or force could change the convictions of such a people. Pro-slavery opinions fell still born from the New England press. They found unrespon- sive or indignant hearers from INew England pulpits. The pulpits were few that ventured to proclaim them. As to our literature, where on the broad earth is there a pro-slavery poem or drama or history, or so much as a ballad fit to be sung by a milkmaid? The world sings liberty, never servitude. But, continues Prof. Phelps, the fact, vital to the present purpose, 6 Abolitionists and Prohibitionists; [Jan., is that the great under-current of Christian opinion (at the North) was moving in only one direction. The great deeps were agitated but to one purpose. They massed themselves as with the volume of the sea against the great national crime. They were crowding it steadily to its doom. If the movement did not equal in velocity that of the providence of God, still it was in profound sympathy with that. Moreover, it represented, on the ethical side of the conflict, the only movement which was so grounded in temperate opinions, and conducted by practical wisdom, as to enconrage the hope of accomplishing anything without the horrors of civil war. The religious mind of New England was a substantial unit in its aim at a peaceful abolition of slavery. Its convictions were outspoken; and, foremost in their expression, were the New England ministry. The charge which is now sometimes made, either in ignorance, or in malice, that the New England pulpit was craven and time-serving on the subject is libelous. Nobody who knows those times well, really believes it. It is worthy only of that acrid class of minds who are best known as minister-haters. We claim, that in the forefront of the warfare of anti-slavery opinion, which this group of States conducted, stood our churches and their ministry. We claim for them more than this. We claim that if they had been let alone, they would have been successful. Turn back a hundred years. Look at the public sentiment of Virginia at that time. Read the deliverances of Jefferson, of Patrick Henry, of James Madison, of Henry Wyethindeed, of all the public men of the Old Dominion. Mark their abhorrence of the policy which threatened to make Virginia a slave-breeding State. Note the social degradation of of the men who conducted the domestic slave-trade. Observe the unanimous voice of the pulpit against the breaking-up of negro families by sale. One cannot recall these signs of the drift of public opinion, without discerning that Virginia was on the verge of peaceful emancipation. Everything leaned that way. And as the social forces of the Republic were then poised, as went Virginia, so went all the rest of the slave states. That was foreordained. Now we claim that, starting with that drift of public sentiment in the Old Dominion, and with the prestige which that State had in the politics of the country, if 1892.1 or Afioral Reform Embarra& ~ed by Ultrai8m. 7, the great alliances of Christian faith had been left to work their normal way, unhampered by the inflammatory policies of the extremists on either side, and especially by those which at the North soon succeeded in identifying anti-slavery with infidelity, slavery would have succumbed to moral power. To doubt it, is to doubt all Christian history. The negro would have come up to the rights of liberty, as he grew up to the duties of lib- erty, lie would not have been exploded from the cannons mouth into the miserable fiction of liberty which he has to-day, in which he has neither the intelligence to prize, nor the power to use, a freemans ballot. Every decade adds to the proof, that our ministry, and those who thought with them were right in their faith that liberty grow8: it never sails into the sul- phurous air on the wings of dynamite. This nation, in the first century of its existence, had the grandest opportunity that a nation ever had, of putting to the proof the power of Christianity to extirpate a great national wrong, without stroke of sword or beat of drumand we flung it to the winds! In the forefront of the hosts who committed the awful sacrilege, we charge that there stood the fire- eaters of the South and the Abolitionists of New England. On their heads rest the responsibilities of the Civil War, and the outpouring of the life-blood of five hundred thousand men! Such is the verdict which history will render in the coming ages, when the world has become u8ed to the righting of organic wrongs by bloodless revolutions. This construction which one of the most able and devout minds of the North, puts upon the human agents engaged, directly or indirectly, in the events that culminated in the Civil War and in the emancipation of the slaves, may not be accepted by all. But we agree with Prof. Phelps that his construction will be the ultimate verdict of history. It is the misfortune of all reforms which have their inception in the interest of gen- uine progress, that they attract to them a large class of well- disposed, but narrow minds, who seize with passionate eager- ness upon their manifest advantages and advocate them as their causes with an intemperate zeal. It never so much as enters their simple minds that these causes are themselves products, and that to be successfully advocated the original and germi 8 Abolitioni8ts and Prohibitrionists; [Jan., nant sources whence they arise must be augmented. They are not studious to observe that the Scriptures have little to say respecting wealth, art, literature, science, philosophy, culture, social manners, domestic economy, institutions of charity, and free governmentsthat is, the ultimate visible products of a perfected Christian civilization. They observed that there were extant in the community certain entrancing conceptions of human society, such as the equality of the race, the brother- hood of man with man, the nobility of woman, the inhumanity of war, the odiousness of slavery, the dignity of labor, the worth of education, and the blessedness of charity; but they seldom, if ever, stopped to trace them to their origin in Him who laid his axe at the root of the tree of evil, that He might plant in the place thereof the Tree of Life, and on whose boughs alone could grow all these fruits. The great mass of Christian mind at the North had the intelligence to see the truth at this point and to apply itself with all diligence to augment our Northern civilization. They did it in the conviction that their type of civilization in its reach of power and diffusive energy, would ultimately so influence and invigorate the Christian civilization of the South, as to require it by the process of its own growth to throw off slavery as an intolerable burden, not to say a heinous sin. They no more dreamed of removing slavery by any sys- tem of violence, than they did of suppressing the barbarous ignorance of our Indian tribes by engaging our United States troops in the work of their extermination, rather than by send- ing among them missionaries and teachers. The prevailing spirit of opposition to slavery in the North found expression in a class of men who would never allow themselves to be identi- fied with the New England Abolitionists, and who always commanded a respectful hearing at the South in all they had to say against slavery. Among these it will suffice to name but one, who stands as the representative of the ministry and churches of the North, Rev. Albert Barnes. His treatise on slavery stands at the head of literature on the subject, and is a masterly summary of biblical arguments against the wrong. But the significant fact is, that Mr. Barnes never would be wel- comed by, nor suffer himself to be affiliated with the Abolition school represented by Wendell Phillips and Mr. Garrison. By 1892.] or Afioral Reform Embarrassed by Ultraism~. 9 his local proximity with the South in his pulpit in Philadelphia, by his personal contact with Southern men, and knowledge of the spirit of Southern life, he had opportunity to form a bal- anced judgment and to have intelligent convictions. These advantages of knowledge, combined with a judicious temper, a majestic manhood and a deep philanthrophy, gave him an imperial authority over flie public mind North and South. If his teachings on the subject in dispute, had not been neutral- ized by the partisan and intemperate utterances of Extremists at the North, mingled with infidel assaults upon the Bible, and malignant contempt of all Christian Churches, who can say that they would not have softened the asperity of Southern feeling and made the war of the States an impossibility? No Northern man could be at heart and by mouth more opposed to slavery than Mr. Barnes, and yet what does he say? If a lust cause could be killed by the folly of its friends, the cause of African liberty would have been so by the spirit and meth- ods of the Abolitionists. Such an utterance from such a man is enough to hand the pecuUor animus that dominated the movements of the extreme Abolitionists of the North over to the execration of mankind. History, which has any fidelity to facts, will put it on a level with the extravagant resentments of the fire-eaters of the South. What widened the breach between the conservative reformers of the North, who com- prised nine-tenths of the people, and these destructives, was not the fact merely that the latter repudiated all Christian methods of reform by argument and appeal, but that they welcomed into their fraternity as boon associates and co-laborers the rank- est and most blatant infidels which their assaults upon the min- istry and churches could invite. Professor Phelps gives us an item in his own experience: Once upon a time we made respectful mention of Moses, as authority for the toleration of organic wrongs. The only reply we got was, So much the worse for Moses, then. Again we reverently quoted St. Paul, in proof of exceptional cases in which the legal ownership of a slave might not be the sum of all villainies. The rejoinder was flung contemptuously in our faces, Who, pray, is St. Paul?~ We were innocent enough to recall with reverence the words of our Lord, I have many things to say unto you, but 10 Abolitionists and Prohibitionists; [Jan., ye cannot bear them now; and we were about to ask whether the principle of reserve of truth, in consideration of the infirm- ities of men, might not possibly admit of a broader application. But the autocrat of the platform thundered in reply, Reserve of truth about slavery, by God or man, is the policy of hell. Once more we ventured to cite the silence of the Master upon Roman slavery as possibly instructive to later times. But before we had finished our story, the war-whoop came back, If Jesus Christ was tolerant of slavery, then down with Jesus Christ. Andcould it be that we heard aright ?the voice was the voice of a woman! The two types of civilization, characterizing the North and the South; the one justifying and maintaining slavery, and the other opposing and seeking its extinction, were, of necessity in conflict with each other; but it was a conflict of ideas; and wise men, North and South, who engaged in it, were confident of an amicable adjustment of difficulties. They never dreamed of referring the matter to the arbitrament of the sword. These civilizations had in each of them the ground swell of an ocean and the strength of the tides; but the movements were as silent as they were deep. The rival surface-currents were all that was conspicuous and noisy, and they were the Abolitionists of the North, and the fire-eaters of the South. While insignificant in themselves, they began to influence political action, and as they increased in numbers and strength, to awaken sectional strife; and more and more, by the processes of irritability, to engage in their behalf the underlying forces, till, by and by, they pre- cipitated the country into the most cruel and needless war that crimsons the pages of human history. But it is here that we fall upon an astounding fact: it is that when these destructives, North and South, by prolonged scheming and extravagant measures, had forced the two civilizations to abandon all peace- ful methods of adjustment and to come forth upon fields of blood, there to settle the question of ideas, that these same destructives, should, in view of results, pose as martyr-cham- pions in the affray! What honors has the civilization of the South, past, present, or future, to bestow upon her fire-eaters, as the counterpart of northern Abolitionists, and who became the authors of her desolations, except to accord to them the 1892.] or iJforal Reform Embarras8ed by Ultrai8m. 11 character of a monnmental infamy, ilke that which belongs to the pillar of salt by the sea of Sodom And what reward has the civilization of the North, past, present, or fntnre, to bestow upon the leaders of abolitionism, who forced her to relinqnish her moral influences and peaceful measnres, and appear with infinite reluctance on fields of carnage, to settle there the ques- tion of ideas, but a monument, in natural order, of equivalent infamy? When the civilization of the North massed itself in the IRepublican Party and elected Abraham Lincolnwhere- f ore did it do it? Because the civilization of the South had finally yielded with infinite reluctance, to her fire-eating extrem- ists and displeased political leaders, and gathered herself up into a volume of power for the dismemberment of the Union. The malignant and rancorous fury of the Northern destructives, having for their ultimate and natural expression the insane raid of John Brown, was a sufficient provocation for the thoughtful and conservative people of the South to yield thus to their impetii- ous leaders. It is true that the Abolitionists, having stirred up the animosities of the South, were the occasion of summoning the North to the work of suppressing a rebellion and thus to put down slavery, but no more credit is of necessity due to them on that score, than was due to Judas Iscariot because his act of betrayal lay in the line of the divine purpose of providing an Atonement for mankind. It has long been the growing, and is now, more and more the settled conviction of all students of the question, that this issue of the war, as demanded from the first and all along by the genuine reformers of the North, could, and would have been secured by them had they been undisturbed in their use of peaceful means, and without the shedding of a drop of blood, and greatly, too, to the advantage of the colored race. No human arithmetic therefore, can compute the cost to the nation, in life and treasure, of the setting aside of the appliances used by the Northern ministry and churches for the removal of slavery, and the substitution therefor of the intem- perate and revolutionary schemes of the destructives. Hence, the astounding surprise to see the Abolitionists, having com- pelled the formation of the Republican Party into which they drove all genuine reformers, and the civilization of the North, come forward and stamp upon that Party, and require it to 12 Abolitionists and Prohibitionists; [Jan., wear, their own Antislavery image and superscription! The Republican Party did not originate in, or grow out of the Abolitionists. It came into being, rather in spite of them, and to undo the mischief they had wrought. For them to claim that party as their expansion, and themselves as its leading fac- tors, is preposterous. One fourth of July, the students at Dart- mouth went up to St. Johnsbury to celebrate. On their arrival, they found the Governor of the State with a band in waiting to conduct them to the Pavilion. As the procession began to move under the inspiring music of the band, a self- organized body of students, known as the horn-blenders stepped in front of the band, beside the Governor on his horse, superseding the band, and the need of their music. Thjs imagery tells the story as to the kind of leadership, if any, which the Abolitionists could have furnished for the Repub- lican Party. That Party was the uprising of the North to put down a threatened rebellion, and could not suffer itself to be thus reduced to a burlesque. The occupation of the Abolition- ists was clean gone when once the riot which they had created had been quelled into the form and dignity of war, which it had fomented between the two rival civilizations. To be the occa- sion of that war establishes no more claims to honor because of the beneficent results that accrued from it in the incidental emancipation of the slaves, than that such claims are due when any imbecility has been overruled for good. As well might Nebuchadnezzar and Darius pride themselves on the happy escape of their victims from the fiery furnace and the den of lions, and ask that monuments be erected to their own honor in view of the successful issue of events! Here arises an interesting question: What became of the leaders of Abolitionism after the genuine reformers of the North, through President Lincoln, had issued the proclamation of emancipation? For the quarter of a century which has elapsed since the issue of that military decree, what have the so-called Abolitionists done towards the education and christian- ization of the race they were so valiant of speech to set free? Have they been as conspicuous daring these years in work for the colored people to prepare them for the liberty into which they have been thrust from the cannons mouth, as they had 1892.] or ilforal Reform Embarraseed by Ultraism. 13. been previously conspicuous in their frantic and convulsive efforts to secure the abolition of slavery? This question is per- tinent, for we wish to affirm that, for all we can see to the con- trary, had the freedmen fallen into the hands of the destructives at the close of the war, and found in them their main depend- ence for educational and religious opportunities, their condition would have been worse than had they continued in their state of bondage. Into whose hands after the war, did the emanci- pated slaves fall? and in whose hands have they been ever since? and are they to be for generations to come? The answer to these questions is too obvious to be given. While the freedmen have received good in many ways from the Christian churches of the South, it is painfully true that that good has almost been neutralized by the great injustice which they have received politically from other parties; so that we are compelled to say that nine-tenths of all that has been done for the freedmen for these twenty-five years in their education, and religious improvement, has been accomplished by the evan- gelical ministry and churches of the North, to whom Professor Phelps referred us as the great deposit of reform power, but whom the Abolitionists, in their refined dialect, denominated craven~ laggards, bands of thugs, and the spawn of hell. But why dwell thus at length upon this painful chapter in our national history? For two reasons: First, to keep before the public, Professor Phelpss construction of events, and his classification of persons who took part therein. We have no question as to his fidelity to the truth of history. But this reason is incidental, as being only introductory to, our Second; to show how history repeats itself by carrying the characteristic features of one reform movement over to another. We have been speaking of the so-called Anti-slavery reforms; a reform which began time out of mind, and which will not be complete until we have lifted the colored race up to the level of the elec- tive franchise, and made them equal to their duties as American citizenswhich is not yet. What the civilization of the North has done for this emancipated people is but a drop in the bucket in comparison with what is yet to be done. The reform in question had only begun when Anti-slaveryism with- 14 Abolitionists and Pro Jdbitionists; [Jan., drew from the field, and left the work to Professor Phelpss genuine reformers, who have taken it up, and are carrying it forward. Bnt there is another reform in progress in our conntry which we acconnt of greater magnitnde than the one whose history we have been considering, and which we can now bring nnder snrvey with all the greater brevity because of the purchase we have obtained in what has gone before. We refer to the Temperance reform. The two reforms are identi- cal in aim, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound. In the one reform, we removed fetters from human limbs; in this, we remove cups from human lips: in each instance the issue is one, emancipation of the oppressed. As to the comparative magnitude of these two evils we venture npon no estimate, since the data of the eternal worlds are not at hand. These evils differ in many particulars. They do not occupy the same territory. Slavery was confined to the South: intemperance takes in the whole country. Slavery, when abolished, was wholly abolished, since it was accounted an evil and wholly an evil in every form: liquor-selling when prohibited to the utmost, is not wholly prohibited, since it is not accounted an evil per se, and in every form. Absolute prohibition is only the dream of fanaticism. The most stringent prohibitory law confines its prohibition to that use of liquor as a beverage, which common experience and the medi- cal profession have pronounced needless as a condition of physical, intellectual, or moral health. Every law, therefore, of the kind, is self-consistent and provides for the sale of alco- holic liquors for all needful purposes. This evil, pervading the whole country, knowing no Mason and Dixons tine, awakens no sectional strife and is in no peril of creating a civil war. Notwithstanding these lets and hindrances, there has never been inaugurated on the continent a reform of such magnitude, and so far-reaching in its beneficent issues, as this temperance reform in the shape of prohibition of one sort or another. Prohibition, in the sense of having all intoxicating liquors under the control of law to be used for no hurtful, but for use- ful ends, is coming. It is gathering into it rapidly all the forces of civilized life in the earth. The earth moves, and the 1892.] or Moral Reform Embarras8ed 1y Ultrai~m. sun arid moon move, and the heavens move, and the great tides of air move, and time moves, and prohibition moves with them in equal pace, and in tranquil order. It has in it the tread of the ages and the tides of the seas. To forbid its advances is to arrest the procession of the eqninoxes, and hush the seven thnnders of the apocalypse. We pnt some things in among the eternal certainties; and already prohibition, by divine and hnman decree, is there. The political party that is studious of the signs of the times, and wise, will take note of these things and be the first to hoist its sails to catch the tide winds. But while prohibition is coming, it will not come like the New Jernsalem down from heaven all at once and fonr square. It will come first in the blade, then in the ear, and after that in the fnll corn in the ear. In its advent, it will adapt itself to times and circumstances, and come in different forms, and in different measnres, according as it is endowed with wisdom from above, and has the knack of seeing things as they are, and of doing things as they onght to be done. Emancipation came, as we have seen, as a military measure in a war evoked by extremists; bnt prohibition cannot come thus, for the evil it combats has no territorial seat, and can create no war bnt the war of ideas; it must come therefore in successive stages, arid by peaceful measures. Undoubtedly there are those who desire to have it come like an army with banners, with confused noise, and garments rolled in blood; but not so; it will come, when it comes, under the Captain of our salvation, the Prince of Peace; the weapons of its warfare not carnal, but spiritual, and yet mighty through God to the pulling down of strong holds. In some states, Prohibition will come in its plenary power; in other states, it will come in local option, dot- ting them with points of light; in others yet, it will come nuder the direction of high-license, piece-meal, and as fast as it can. In view of these modes of advance, every wise-hearted temperance man will exclaim in the spirit of St. Paul: Some indeed preach prohibition even of envy and strife; and some also of good will; the one preach prohibition of contention, not sincerely, supposing to add affliction to my bonds; but the other of love, knowing that I am set for the defense of prohi- bition. What then? notwithstanding every way, whether in 10 Abolitionist8 and Prohibitioni8t8; [Jan., pretence or in truth, prohibition is preached; and I therein do rejoice, yea, and will rejoice. It is in order here to say that the people who stand related to this great temperance movement are to be divided into the three classes we have had under review, and who are familiar to us as resistants, destrnctives, and reformers. Reforms repeat themselves in the classes of persons that stand related to them, or follow in their train. In the parallelism we are drawing, we can say that, mntati8 mutandis, we have sought to describe with pains-taking accuracy how these three classes stand related to the temperance reform. As face answereth to face in water, so these movements repeat each other in the agencies that pervert or retard, or correct and advance them. There is a vast proportion of the people, themselves thoroughly temperate in their habits, who, if they have any relation to the temperance reform, must be set down as resistants to any aggressive work. They are content with things as they are; they see no need of a perpetual agitation of the subject. They do not oppose the temperance enterprise; they commend it; but if any appeals are made to them for personal work or sac- rifice, they resist the encroachment. Over against these resist- ants in the other extreme, are found the destructives, who stand related to the temperance reform, just where we fonnd persons of the same type to stand in relation to the Anti-slav- ery movement. The lines cannot be sharply drawn; bnt we can say with truth that most persons of this class have found their place in the Prohibition Party. Not a few others have gone in with them who are not exactly of them, and simply because they do not find elsewhere a more hopeful field of reform work. But it stands patent to all observers that the Prohibitionists, who hold the so-called Third Party under their domination and control, are the Abolitionists over again. They are destructives of the rankest order, and to describe them is to repeat almost sentence by sentence and figure by figure, the description given of their prototypes. With them there is only one evil and that is intemperance, only one crime, and that is the saloon, and only one devil and that is license. Here are sins, older than Adam, ingrained into the texture, and infused into the life of human souls, and they are to be reached and 1892.] or iJitoral Reform Lmbarrassed by Ultrai8m. 17 extirpated by a political machine! By a single swoop of their archangel, the Prohibition Party, in a popular election, they are going to pnt an instant end to this damnable traffic in alcoholic liqnor! Bnt why stop here? If the ballot in its own might can pnt an end to the liquor business, why not require it to go fnrther and extract the root of the business~the love of money the root of all evil? and thus vote in the kingdom of heaven? There is high anthority for saying that the kingdom of heaven comes in its first installment of power in conversion; and with- out observation, sets up its reign of grace in the human heart; and afterwards in a multiplication of such hearts into a divine fraternity, and by a gradual process, this kingdom comes by diffusing such revolutionary forces as to turn the world upside down and compel recognition as a spiritual empire extant among men. The point of interest is that this Kingdom never comes any faster than souls are converted and sanctified: and ballots cannot do this work. We have it stated, also, that in its expansion by conqnest among men, it works from man to man, as leaven works in the dough from layer to layer; that begin- ning with two or three gathered together, it will expand and grow like a mnstard seed, or a blade of corn. These are the inspired symbols as to the gradational mode of its progress. Nothing is said in the Bible about this Kingdoms coming by ballot. No; the temperance canse can be moved forward only by a might that can control hnman appetite and hnman ava- rice. This achievement is enough to tax the Trinne Powers of Eternity. To substitute therefor an arm of flesh, makes the devils laugh. As an argument proves itself to be fallacious if it proves too mnch; may we not say that this reform measure shows itself fatally defective, if it aims to secnre in its own name, when carried ont, an end which snpersedes the need of the Gospel? Here is a reform within the moral sphere which has assumed the style and air of a political party, which em- ploys all the appliances and methods known to politicians, and which proposes to do away with the effects of the two most inveterate sins which inhere in human natnre, without remov- ing the sins themselves. Such an enterprise is conspicuous for the absnrdity that it carries, high borne, npon its front. It is noticeable that in proportion as such destructives are thus illog voL. xx. 2 18 Abolitionists and Proh4itionists; [Jan., ical, they are extravagant in speech; for the arguments of reason, they substitute the language of passion, and rely upon invective and vituperation. Without noting the nature of the war as one of ideas and moral principles, they charge upon the enemy as though he were a battery to be carried by storm, and they do it with the impetuosity and fury of Napoleons cavalry. They look upon the acknowledged wrong of the saloon and demand its immediate and unconditional prohibition. To tol- erate is to participate, to participate is to sanction, and to sanction is to be accessory to the crime. No resistance, therefore, can be too instant, too denunciatory, too passionate, too convulsive. They take no note of this evil, except in respect to its surface effects; forget that these effects can be removed only as tl~e blade of the Redeemers axe, wielded in his name by his peo- ple, is dipped in deep and destructive gashes, into their cause. A forest can stand a good deal of noisy and crazy slashing of its boughs. There is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease. The mere scent of water here, is enough to put to confusion a host of humanitarian reform choppers. It is one of the strokes of genius in our Arch-enemy to get the peo- pleand if Christian people all the betterto exhaust them- selves and their resources, in conventions assembled, and in agonies of endeavorfor what ?to secure in the community the visible effects of religion, with religion itself left out. He has the sagacity to know that these effects are not like the leopards spots, put in to stay, but are transient like the morning dew. We pronounce the extreme Third Party Prohibitionists, destructives in their influence upon the cause of temperance, because while acting in a moral reform under the name of religion, they place not their main dependence upon the divine influences, but upon political action. The very prayers that often open their conventions are so filled with fuss and fury, as to border on blasphemy. The pious gauze thrown over the affair in this way, is so thin that you can see, in the inat- tention and irreverence, and sometimes in the applause, the hypocrisy that lurks beneath it. A convention of brewers and saloon-keepers has often the advantage, in the comparison, in 1892.] or Jill oral Reform Embarras8ed l)y Ultraism. 19 honesty, dignity and manliness. We lay not the responsibility upon Professor Phelps, we take it upon ourselves, when we divert his language from the extreme Abolitionists and apply it to the Third Party extremists, and say that they are destine- tives in their theories of government; they are destructives in their measures of policy; they are destructives in their judg- ments of institutions and of public men; they are destructives in their style of debate. Their magnetism draws into alliance with them, as that of such men always does, sympathetic de- structives of every stripe and color. To a looker-on, it seems as if all the cranks on the continent were drawn in invisible grooves to the platform of prohibition. Sore-head iRepubli- cans are there in goodly number; long-haired men and short- haired women; Abolitionists, not lost to view but to memory dear; infidels, and religions tramps and vagabonds; all that are in distress or in debt or who are discontented; all are there, a motley crowd; and what adds to the picturesqueness of the sceneevery man of them has a woman suffragist at his back urging him on with a cudgel. It is the misfortune of the cause of temperance that it attracts to its support men and women often, who are more hostile to Christianity than they are to the evil which they profess to assail. Snch is the peril of the temperance cause to-day as represented by the extreme Prohibition wing in the controversy. The Abolitionists wel- comed to their fellowship, and in part to their leadership, men and women whose chief resources in debate were denunciations of the IMlosiac institutions and the teachings of St. Paul. Some were experts in their flings at Him, whose name is above every name. They shocked our most sacred sensibilities. They travestied our supreme hopes for ourselves, and for the world. To this day all over the South, the name of Abolitionist is synonym of every most virulent type of infidel and scoffer. A reform, like a man, is known by the company it keeps. These words with a slight modification are exactly applicable to not a few who stand in the forefront of the Prohibition movement. Nine tenths of the foremost biblical scholars and preachers of our day, and themselves thorough temperance men in theory and in practice, believe that our Lord, at the marriage in Cana, turned the water into the best of wine in 20 Alwlitwnist8 and Prohilitionist8; [Jan., common nse, and that contained alcoholic properties. But let any one of these men in a Prohibition convention affirm this as his conviction, and he would find that he had encountered a mob and must abide the peltings of a pitiless storm. If by argument he should establish the point so as to command a general assent, there would not be wanting those who would exclaim in their frenzy, as did the Abolitionists when confronted by the example of Our Lord, Then we must get rid of Christ. The inspired statement that the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and was charged with being a man gluttonous, and a winebibber, and he not repel the charge, taken in connection with the fact that he was not an avowed Prohibitionist, has disturbed the confidence of not a few in Him as the leader of reform. Such persons, too, account St. Paul as having smirched his own reputation because he recommended to Timothy the use, medicinally, of a little wine. It is sometimes said of certain people that they are so allkilling pious that we cannot live with them; and here, certainly, we fall upon a class of irreverent fanatics who assert for themselves a remarkable sanctity, and the only way to get on peaceably with them is to part company. We cannot bring them up to the level of our thinking, and we can- not sink to the level of theirs. Such now are the two extremes as they stand related to the temperance reform. Between these extremes as resistants and destructives, stand the reformers. They constitute the great bulk of the temperance people. In the North, the great pro- portion are in the IRepublican Party; in the South they are found largely in the Democratic Party. But these. thoughtful temperance men, in the North or South, found in the two great political parties, not a few of them drawn in, temporarily, among the Prohibitionists, are beginning to see eye to eye on the subject of temperance. While they see other vast issues, and are quick to pronounce upon the wisdom of different administrative policies, yet they are more and more a unit in the conviction that temperance, in the form of the saloon ques- tion, is fast becoming, if it has not already become, the one great issue before the country. Nothing is more conspicuous before the American people than the malignant arrogancy of 1892.] o,~ Jiloral Reform) Embarraseed by Ultraism. 21 the Rum Power. The wheels of Juggernaut never had less sympathy for their victims, or crushed them more mercilessly, than does this Monarch of Death as he stalks, red-wat-shod, to and fro in our country and up and down in it. He has no head and cannot think; no heart, and cannot feel. When he moves it is wrath and when he pauses it is amid ruins. His rest, if rest he has, is on some kindred rock, where he whets his fangs for a more sanguinary desolation. The great majority of the men of our country, if convoked in one vast assemblage, could unite, without a stammering tongue, or a faltering voice, in repeating in concert, the following eloquent sentence that came, in torrent power, from the lips of Dr. Beman, more than half a century ago: It is not enough to say, that intemper- ance is greater than this or that individual calamity; it is probably not too much to say that this single evil has inflicted, and is still inflicting, more injury upon the physical, intellectual, moral, and eternal interests of our country than all other evils, which are ordinarily deemed special calamities, combined together; yes, marshal in one dread army, under one bloody flag, all the judgments that ever desolated this devoted world of sin and death; blasting, mildew, hail-storms, earthquakes, epidem- ics, famine, conflagration, shipwreck, war, rapine, murder ;blow the trumpet long and loud, call them to one combined, univer- sal and dreadful onset, let them bear down with fell purpose, and with unwonted wrath upon this terrestrial citadel of man and strew their path with ruin as they pursue their onward march; yet here is one monster of monsters, one curse of curses, that can, single-handed outdo them all; his name is Legion; his spirit is as fierce as a wonuded tiger, as uncontrollable as a famished wolf and as malignant as a desolating fiend. His footsteps must be arrested or the nation is undone. We have seen that the great majority of the people of the North, ministers and churches, were thoroughly anti-slavery in spirit, without being Abolitionists in form; so we find the bulk of the people throughout the country to be opposed to the Rum Power, as the supreme curse, and in some form, pro- hibitionists, without joining the Prohibition Party. More: we have seen how the ultra-Abolitionists assailed the ministry and ehurches of the North, calling them craven and time-serv 22 AbolitWfli8t8 and P~ohibitioni8ts; [Jan., ing, a brotherhood of theives, and the spawn of hell, be- cause they could not, and would not fraternize with them, and endorse their methods. The same spirit of brutal intolerance now characterizes the extreme Prohibitionists. Terms of bit- ter and caustic severity are hurled with a free lance against temperance people at large and champions, too, in temperance work, if they decline to join their party and work after their pattern. But if Intemperance is the great evil of the country, and is so acknowledged by all temperance people, why do they not all join the Prohibition Party? For the best of reasons. Tem- perance people are largely Christian believers, and, in a work of moral reform, they cannot enter into sympathetic union with so-called Prohibitionists, constituted, as we have seen them to be, of all soAs of belief and no belief, and who, in sinking a moral result, take the emphasis off from the distinctively Christian, and lay it upon the distinctively political, method. Again, they are patriotic citizens, and have minds capacious enough to grasp a whole circle of ideas and political issues. They are suspicious of a statesmanship that can dwarf itself to the dimensions of one idea, however grand or sublime it may be. While they are Prohibitionists, in their own definition of the term, they are, as intelligent men, possessed of a spirit of inquiry; and are discriminating in their judgments, and have balanced ideas. This causes them to differ among themselves, according as they live in different states, different sections of states, cities, or towns, and are surrounded by different people, as to the form they would have their prohibition take. They. account it absurd to assume that because a given form of pro- hibition works well in Maine or Vermont, therefore it will, and can be made to, work well in New York or Pennyslvania. They hold that there is a great difference between the peo- ples of different states, as between Massachusetts and Missouri, and that it would be as absurd for these states to exchange laws and temperance laws among othersas it would be absurd and painful for their Governors to exchange skins. They are quick therefore to discriminate between laws proper and leg.~ islative enactments. Many an enactment can never become a law, since it stands related to the people as an umbrella with a 1892.] or ilforal ]i?eforwb Embarra8sed by Ultrai8m. 23 staff forty feet long, stands related to a man in a thunder storm. The jurisprudence of a state is its tegumentary investment; it is the skin of the body politic and a part of its life; it is in the blood, and the blood is in it. Now, any enactment to be a law, must so emerge from the life of the people as to take its place naturally with other laws, and lie along in the integu- ment, an organic part of it, as the Gulf Stream lies along in the Atlantic. Sometimes a Legislature is caught in a gale of pas- sion, and passes an enactment. It is all in vain for it to await the Governors signature: it must have the signature of the people in its fitness to meet their conscious want, and express their views and sentiments. It may be and often ought to be in advance of them, and to carry in it an educational potency to lift them to its level. The aspirations of an advancing peo- ple demand such leadership in their legislation. Suppose the most stringent temperance law now extant to be adopted in all the states with the existing degree of moral and religious culture in them for its basis and support; what would it be worth in three fourths of the states? In certain states we have already excellent prohibitory laws, and by the very exis- tence of these laws, these states show their intellectnal and moral elevation; and yet is it not painfully true that it is ex- ceedingly difficult in spite of this high moral sentiment to secure the execution of these laws? How then would it be in states less advanced and with less moral force? Nothing can be more absurd than the assnmption of the Prohibitionists that if they had matters in their own hands, they could make laws and execute them in total disregard of the intellectual and moral life of the people! As well might lily-pads on the sur- face of a mountain lake hold their positions independently of the waters on which they float. The Prohibitionists assume the existence of such moral sentiment in all the country as to make the most prohibitory of temperance laws immediately available; but if our communities were under the dominion of such temperance sentiment, why, then we could trust that sen- timent, having created itself without law, so to augment itself without law, as to make all law on the subject nugatory. But the appalling fact is that such moral sentiment does not exist; therefore the question before the temperance people at large is: 24 Alolitionists and Pro~4ibitionist8; [Jan., which wing of temperance workers are doing the most to create temperance sentiment in the conntry, the basis of all legisla- tion on the subject, they who are laying the emphasis in tem- perance work npon schemes to further the interests of a polit- ical party, or they, who in donbt of such a change of tactics, are laying the emphasis still on the strictly moral and religions instrumentalities? We have no hesitancy in saying that the latter class are doing incomparably the most; for while taking an avowed and firm stand for temperance, they are laying fonndations in distinctive Christian work which creates the temperance sentiment, which we hail as our final hope. They are so old-fashioned as still to rely upon the biblical maxim: Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord. They claim that when temperance workers allow theii moral reform to slip its meaning so far as to become external- ized in a political organization, and expend their forces in the noise and bluster of a political campaign, and count their suc- cess in the number of votes they poll, there is danger lest the weapons of their warfare cease to be spiritual, and become car- nal and weak throngh themselves, to the pulling down of the strong holds. These strong holds must be pulled down; so say the great body of temperance people who yet remain in the great political parties: and it is their solemn conviction that they can be demolished so fast, and only so fast, as the great moral and religions instrnmentalities, employing legislative enactments for what they are worth, can create the required public sentiment, and enforce the reqnired public morals. They look therefore upon the precipitate and convulsive meth- ods of the Prohibitionists just as the great mass of anti-slavery people of the North looked upon equivalent methods introduced by the Abolitionists to get rid of slavery. As the Christian people of the North were the final cause of the abolition of slavery, and for twenty-five years have had the freedmen in charge, fitting them for citizenship; so when victory in the cause of temperance shall have been achieved, it will not be the Prohibition Party who have achieved it, but the great body of genuine temperance reformers who kept silently at work in the use of the legitimate biblical instrumentalities, never ruling out, but always employing legislation, so far as it could supple- 1892.] or iJiloral Reform Em(xtrrct8sed l)y Ultrctism. 25 ment and augment the efficiency of these instrumentalities. Hence it comes to pass that the most thorough-going temper- ance men in the country, including a vast majority of the the clergymen and the laymen are compelled to account the leaders of the Prohibition Party as destructivesas doing more to retard the progress of the temperance cause than to enhance it. They insist that they can express themselves in the formu- lary of Albert Barnes, and say, If a just cause could be killed by the folly of its friends, the cause of prohibition would have been so by the spirit and methods of the Prohibitionists. The genuine temperance reformers are cultivating a garden of flowers,but what do they find? A crowd of idle and foolish children all the while intruding, and, with silly fingers, vio- lently picking open the buds to hasten their blossoming! Never is truth in our world more miserably betrayed than by the bad logic of its advocates; and trnth in the Temperance Reform must achieve its immortality of glory by surviving its martyrdom at the hands of the Prohibition Party. 26 The liliarbie Faun; an Allegory, [Jan., ARTICLE II. THE MARBLE FAUN; AN ALLEGORY, WITH A KEY TO ITS INTERPRETATION.* The iJfarble Faun; or, the Romance of ilfionte-Beni. By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. Two Volumes. Boston: Tick- nor & Fields. 1860. IT is not surprising, that the writings of Nathaniel Haw- thorne should be little read, and less liked, by the mass of straight forward, common-sense people, of Calvinistic views, for while he seldom directly opposes the orthodox doctrines of religion, we look in vain for any recognition of them in his works. In fact the class of readers who thoroughly appre- ciate and enjoy them is small. The complaint is almost uni- versally made, that his views of life are altogether too gloomy and morbid. For ourselves, while he evinces so little conception of the remedial system which God has provided for the sins and sorrows of mankind; while he dwells so much upon gloomy wrongs, and portrays the horrors of remorse, without showing its only legitimate relief,hope of pardon through an atoning Saviour,we do not consider him a healthy writer, and can- not recommend the perusal of his works to immature and undiscriminating minds. Yet to reflective, imaginative read- ers, for whom Hawthorne more especially writes, his works are richly suggestive, though not always a source of unqualified en- joyment. But even among these, we suspect there are many who fail to penetrate the hidden meaning which generally lurks beneath his fanciful tales. We think this must be especially true with reference to his latest work, The Marble Faun, for though great admiration is expressed for the exquisite de- scriptions of art and nature which it contains, we hear continual * The following Article, in compliance with a request frequently made by those who have read it, is re-printed from THE NEW ENG- LANDER for October, 1861. It was written by a member of Hawthornes family, was read by him, and received his approval.[EDIToR OF THE NEW ENGLANDER.

26 The liliarbie Faun; an Allegory, [Jan., ARTICLE II. THE MARBLE FAUN; AN ALLEGORY, WITH A KEY TO ITS INTERPRETATION.* The iJfarble Faun; or, the Romance of ilfionte-Beni. By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. Two Volumes. Boston: Tick- nor & Fields. 1860. IT is not surprising, that the writings of Nathaniel Haw- thorne should be little read, and less liked, by the mass of straight forward, common-sense people, of Calvinistic views, for while he seldom directly opposes the orthodox doctrines of religion, we look in vain for any recognition of them in his works. In fact the class of readers who thoroughly appre- ciate and enjoy them is small. The complaint is almost uni- versally made, that his views of life are altogether too gloomy and morbid. For ourselves, while he evinces so little conception of the remedial system which God has provided for the sins and sorrows of mankind; while he dwells so much upon gloomy wrongs, and portrays the horrors of remorse, without showing its only legitimate relief,hope of pardon through an atoning Saviour,we do not consider him a healthy writer, and can- not recommend the perusal of his works to immature and undiscriminating minds. Yet to reflective, imaginative read- ers, for whom Hawthorne more especially writes, his works are richly suggestive, though not always a source of unqualified en- joyment. But even among these, we suspect there are many who fail to penetrate the hidden meaning which generally lurks beneath his fanciful tales. We think this must be especially true with reference to his latest work, The Marble Faun, for though great admiration is expressed for the exquisite de- scriptions of art and nature which it contains, we hear continual * The following Article, in compliance with a request frequently made by those who have read it, is re-printed from THE NEW ENG- LANDER for October, 1861. It was written by a member of Hawthornes family, was read by him, and received his approval.[EDIToR OF THE NEW ENGLANDER. 1892.1 with a Key to its Interpretation. 27 complaint of the obscurity of the story, and its strange and un- satisfactory conclusion. Taking it merely as a story, no doubt there is ground for such complaints, but we must remember that Hawthorne is no mere novelist; many of his stories are allego- ries, unfolding some ethereal fancy, or important truth. Had we time, we might illustrate this by reference to many of his earlier works, especially to some of the tales in the Mosses from an old Manse; such sketches, for instance, as The Birth-mark ; iRappaccinis Daughter ; Goodman Brown; and The Artist of the Beautiful. But our design, now, is merely to furnish what we consider as the key to the allegory of The Marble Faun. We understand that the four principal characters in the story personify the different elements which we perceive in our strangely-molded naturesthe Soul or Will, whichever we may call it; the Conscience or Intuitive power; the Reason or Intellect; and lastly, the Animal Nature, or Body. These four we find united in companionship, and in a state of com- parative isolation from all others. They form, so to speak, a little world in themselves, and are all, for the time being, so- journers in the ancient city of Rome, at a distance from their homes. The beautiful and courageous Miriam represents the Soul; her judicious and honorable friend, the sculptor IKenyon, is the J?eason. She ever finds in him a wise counselor, but he is too cold and austere to secure her full confidence, or to give her, in her great trial, the warm sympathy she seeks. Rightly is he represented as a worker in marble, even as the Reason deals with truths in their naked severity and coldness. The fair and lovely Hilda admirably personates the Conscience, and sustains, throughout, the purity and loftiness of so elevated a character. Sympathizing and kind, tender and true, though dignified and somewhat reserved, she dwells apart, in the sum- mit of a lofty tower, above the dust and miasma of the city; and though she comes down, and walks the filthy streets of Rome, her white robe is unsoiled, and she returns at night to feed her companions, the white doves, (pure thoughts and desires), and to keep the flame burning on the altar of Prayer. The others often refer to her as having a finer perception of 28 like JJfarlile Faun; an Allegory, [Jan., the beautiful and true, than themselves; and though they sometimes complain that her standard of virtue is too high for them to reach, and her judgment upon their opinions and conduct too severe, yet they are never satisfied that theirs is correct, unless it coincides with hers. Miriam and ililda are both artists, for our nature was formed to enjoy and to produce the beautiful, although Hulda does not now originate pictures, as in her native home, but copies from the old masters; that is, the Conscience refers us to the eter- nal standards of Right and Wrong. Associated with these high-souled friends, we find a gay and thoughtless youth, so simple-minded and careless that they regard him as a mere child in understanding, yet his graceful beauty and mirthful- ness, and especially his affectionate and winning manners, afford them so much pleasure that they admit him to constant companionship. This is iDonatello, who represents the Animal iVature. Kenyon woos Hilda with an admiration bordering upon reverence, and Donatello passionately loves Miriam, though neither finds his affection at first fully reciprocated. Miriam indeed often regards the childishness of Donatello with contempt. But after Hilda has sprained her delicate wrist, she grasps the strong hand of Kenyon; and when Mi- riam finds herself cast off by Hilda, and regarded with suspi- cion by Kenyon, she clings tenaciously to the tenderness yet remaining for her in the heart of IDonatello. That is, when the Conscience has been weakened by intercourse with guilt, it is glad to lean somewhat upon the understanding; and after the Soul has become debased by crime, she loses much of her dignity and delicacy, and is even willing to confess, in the most humiliating manner, her subjection to the Body, and de- pendence upon it for happiness. I lost all pride, says Mi- riam, when Hilda cast me off. Before his contact with guilt, Donatello is in a state of per- fect, though childlike, enjoyment. He is in sympathy with the animal creation; understands the language of beasts and birds, and they come at his call. Whether he has really pointed and furry ears, being himself only an improved ani- mal, we are left in doubt even at the end of the story. That mysterious verse in the third chapter of Genesis: And 1892.1 with a Key to its Interpretation. 29 the Lord God said, Behold the man has become as one of us, to know good and evil; and now lest he pnt forth his hand and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live forever ; ap- pears to have started in the mind of our author the question, Whether sin has not been the means of bringing a simple and imperfect nature to a point of feeling and intelligence, which it could have reached in no other way ? This idea he introduces again and again; but he evidently sees the great objections to which it is liable, for he represents Kenyon (the Reason) as replying to Miriam, when she asks this question: I dare not follow you into the unfathomable abyss, whither you are tending. Mortal man has no right to tread where you now set your feet. And again, when Kenyon asks Hilda, Js sin then, like sorrow, merely an element of human educa- tion, through which we struggle to a higher and purer state than we could otherwise have attained ?the Conscience an- swers: Do you not perceive what a mockery such a creed makes not only of all religious sentiments, but of moral law, and how it annuls and obliterates whatever precepts of heaven are written deepest within us? You have shocked me beyond words ! In the very outset of the story, our party of four together visit the Catacombs. Prompted by a vain curiosity, the ill- fated Miriam wanders from her companions, and is for a mo- ment lost in that labyrinth of tombs. In those sepulchral cav- erns she meets with a hideous mendicant monk, wandering there for penance, who now emerges with her into the light of day. He appears acquainted with her early history, alludes to crimes committed in the past with which they are both in some way connected, and declares that now he has found her, he will never again lose sight of her. He keeps his word, follow- ing her, from that day forward, like her very shadow, and dark- ening with his repulsive aspect every path she treads. Some- times he stands suddenly before her, in the midst of the gayest dance; again, she sees his dark features reflected from over her shoulder, in a moonlit fountain. Often he waits for her, at nightfall, in the obscurity of some ruined arch, and follows her stealthily home in the dusk of twilight. Though he is not always near her, being absent sometimes for days together, yet 30 The Alarbie Faun; an Alle~jory, [Jan., she is ever liable to his intrusion, and cannot by any entreaties prevail upon him to leave her entirely. So haunted is she by his disagreeable features, that they creep, imperceptibly to her, even into her best pictures, and injure the effect, so that not only is her life embittered by his persecution, but her prospect of excelling in her art seems blighted. Wandering in dark- ness, the soul has encountered the demon of Temptation, who, for some unexplained reason hidden in the past, some political crime of her ancestors, it is suggested, (the allusion is evidently to the sin of Adam), claims the right to pursue her. We are taught that sin came at first through the animal nature, (Eve ate an apple), and the inducements to many of its forms are still presented through the bodily appetites. They are always more or less excited by temptation, but the soul can restrain them, and does, when she remains true to her high trust. So we see Donatello exasperated whenever the monk appears; but Miriam continually soothes and quiets him, and prevents any violent outbreak of passion. At last, however, when both are irritated to the utmost degree by his persistent intrusion, Donatello, with an animal rage, holds the hated man over the brink of the precipice, at the Tarpeian rock, and looks to Miriam for permission to throw him off. They are alonewithout the restraining presence of either Hilda or IKenyon. In her excitement, Miriam forgets to restrain herself, or exercise her usual control over him who turns to her for guidance. By a look of sympathy and encouragement, she consents,and the dreadful deed of murder is done, which, afterwards, they would give worlds to undo. The soul, by its silent acquiescence, must consent, or there can be no transgression of moral law. Temptation has done its work; the deadly sin has been committed; we next behold its consequences. For a moment, Miriam and Donatello ex- ulted in that brief sense of freedom which violators of law always at first enjoy; but this is quickly followed by an un- utterable horror in view of their crime, which gives place only to a life-long remorse. This remorse is, for a time, alleviated by a sense of companionship in sin. The author has here shown the subtlest analysis of thought and feeling. Is not the consideration that we are not alone in sin, the first and only 1892.] with a Fey to its Inter}9retation. 31 relief that comes to the mind aroused to a sense of guilt? We mean, of course, aside from any hope of pardon. We say immediately: we are not alone! there are others as guilty as ourselves. But this very thought soon turns to a new instru- ment of torture. There is companionship, indeed,but what terrible companionship! To use the words of Hawthorne: A crowded thoroughfare, and jostling throng of criminals. It is a terrible thought that an individual wrong-doing melts into the great mass of human crime, and makes uswho dreamed only of our own little separate sinmakes us guilty of the whole. And thus Miriam and her lover were not an isolated pair, but members of an innumerable confraternity of guilty ones, all shuddering at each other. The next day they meet Kenyon, by appointmemt, at the church of the Capuchins, before Guidos picture of the Archan- gel Michael setting his foot upon the Tempter, for the purpose of ascertaining whether the face of the demon does not resemble that of Miriams tormentor. Here they find themselves con- fronted by the evidence of their guilt in the corpse of the mar- dered monk, laid out in the garb of a Capuchin friar, with his cross and rosary, and candles burning around him. In the scene which follows, our author has not only faithfully delin- eated the courage and endurance which the soul develops in emergencies, but has shown his nice observation of its most hidden workings. Though appalled at the awful spectacle, Miriam leads the shuddering IDonatello close to the side of the dead monk, say- ing: The only way in such cases, is to stare the ugly horror right in the face. Never a sidelong glance, nor a half-look, for those are what show a frightful thing in its frightfulest aspect. Lean on me, dearest friend; my heart is strong for both of us. More than this, she goes back alone, and con- fronts the severe, reproachful glances that come from the half closed eyes of the murdered man; yes, even touches the cold hands of the corpse, to assure herself that the likeness to her former enemy is not an illusion. Thus the soul cannot, if it would, ignore its guilt. Painful as is the theme, the thoughts are perpetually recurring to it; so that after vaguely hoping for a while that it is some dread- 32 T14e ]iiarlde Ectun; an Allegory, [Jan., ful dream that hannts us, some illusion that will presently van- ish, we generally conclude, either in case of any overwhelming sorrow or oppressive sense of sin, that it is wisest to contem- plate it steadily, till we have calmly decided just how much is real, and how much imaginary, and then brace ourselves to bear the worst. Miriam and IDonatello supposed themselves to be alone when he threw the monk over the precipice, (but the con- science is ever watchful over the soul, and especially in its hour of trial), and Hilda had noticed the monk gliding stealthily after Miriam, and returned to seek her friend. Through the half-opened gate of the court-yard she witnessed the deed of blood; then hurried away, with that deathly sickness of heart which the innocent suffer when they discover guilt in those whom they have loved and trusted, to stretch her hands towards heaven, and tell her disappointment only to her God. The next interview between these friends, the meeting of the Soul and Conscience after sin, is beautifully delineated, and shows how innocence suffers from the mere knowledge of sin in others, and much more from direct contact with guilt. Up to this time they had delighted in each others society. Miriam had said, Nothing insures me such delightful and innocent dreams, as a talk late at night with Hilda. Now she fears, while she longs to meet that white-robed friend, whose kind approval can give the soul a purer joy than the applause of all the world beside. But with truly noble courage she stills her beating heart, and climbs the long stairway of Hildas tower. With what a grieved severity Hilda motions her away, and warns her that their intimacy is now at an end! With what accuracy she explains to her the nature and extent of her guilt, replying to her inquiry, What have I done ~ Ah, Miriam, that look ! IDonatello paused, she says, recount- ing the events of the night, while one might draw a breath, but that look, ah, Miriam, that look ! It is enough ! replied the now convicted Miriam, bowing her head like a condemned criminal; you have satisfied my mind on a point where it was greatly disturbed. Hencef or- ward I shall be quiet. Thank iou, Hilda. 1892.] with a Key to its Interpretation. 33 The Soul, enlightened by Conscience, sees when, where, and just how far she has offended. It is a well-known fact, that the capacity of pure and inno- cent physical enjoyment is paralyzed, often destroyed, by vice. Here notice how completely our poor Donatello is changed. Before, he was the merriest creature in the world, and thought if Miriam could but deign to receive his love, he should be transcendently happy. But now, stupefied with horror at the crime he had committed, he has become incapable of pleas- ure, and though Miriam (the Soul) is so far degraded as to seek comfort and diversion from him, he can in no way con- sole her. Benumbed and cold, he lies down in hopeless de- spair, while Miriam vainly strives to rouse him from his stupor, by lavishing upon him every expression of endear- ment. At last, finding that her presence must augment his grief, by constantly reminding him of his crime, she con- strains herself to bid him a sad farewell. Before sin, we saw him amid the gardens of Rome, reveling in the enjoyment of nature. But now he retires to his lonely castle, and confines himself in apartments formerly used as a prison, spending his days and nights in penance and remorse; that is, in weariness and pain. He no longer drinks the re- freshing and fragrant wine of sunshine, for his hope and gladness, or animal spirits, are all gone. Feeling himself unworthy to enjoy the elevated society of his former friends, he exiles himself entirely from them. But why, the reader may ask, are Miriam and IDona- tello, while so truly attached, so long separated? Can Soul and Body part, before the final division by death ? Cer- tainly not; though they may be, to a certain extent, oblivious of each other. But we find that they were not widely sepa- rated. Miriam had followed IDonatello to his retirement, though she does not intrude herself upon him, but occupies the stately and long unused apartments of the castle, while he remains secluded in his prison tower. Her presence is indicated to him, however, by the winning melody of her evening song, by which she wooes his return to her; an invi- tation which he longs, yet fears to accept. voL. xx. 8 34 The iJIiarUe Ifaun; an Allegory, [Jan., We think Hawthorne here introduces the figure which Bunyan has elaborated in his allegory of the Holy War, in the town of Mansoul. The nobler faculties of man are a constant reproof to any animal excess, and remind the fallen one of his debasement, so that any lapse into vice must neces- sarily interrupt all sweet communion between the inferior nature and the higher powers of the souL When a man has yielded to his base passions he shrinks from reflection, nor does he wish to hold converse with his reason or his con- science. But Kenyon visits Donatello and draws him forth to a better life. After much patient instruction, and many en- deavors, he is enabled, under the blessing of heaven, to bring about a reunion between those who had been partially alien- ated, but who could not but be miserable in estrangement. They are united; but it is for mutual support, for one anothers final good, for effort, for sacrifice, but not for earthly happiness. To sinful man happiness is no longer a legitimate aim; those who seek it, chase a phantom which ever eludes their grasp. It comes, if it comes at all, as a wayside flower, springing along a path that leads to higher ends. Meanwhile, Hilda is left alone in Rome, and we are now shown the effect of sin upon the conscience. The loss of con- fidence in her friend has robbed her life of its joy; her guide and support, the Reason, is also absent. The pestilential air affects her with a dreamy languor; a torpor creeps over her spirit. She wanders gloomily through the vast galleries of art, in which she had formerly delighted, feeling that her keen insight into the spirit of the old masters is dimmed, and her enjoyment of their works wholly gone. She even questions whether they were ever so true and beautiful as she once sup- posed; for sin sometimes leads us to doubt whether there be any real goodness in the world. At last she throws off some portion of th~ burden that oppresses her spirits, by confessing her knowledge of the murder to the church. Remembering that Miriam had entrusted to her care a packet of important papers, she goes at the appointed time to deliver it to the authorities of Rome. She then mysteriously disappears, hav- ing been detained by the ministers of justice, until at the return 1892.1 with a Key to its Interpretation. 35 of Miriam and iDonatello, full explanation and satisfaction are made. Conscience keeps the moral accounts of the soul, and will present them sooner or later at the tribunal of justice. But conscience herself becomes morbid, and is often brought under bondage to superstition, while sin remains unpunished or unpardoned. Kenyon, after leaving Miriam and Donatello again united, hastens to seek Hilda in iRome. He finds her at St. Peters, in the moment when she has relieved her burdened mind at the confessional. He is greatly disturbed to find her so much under the influence of superstition, and still more distressed at her speedy disappearance. For the first time in years, the lamp goes out upon the virgins shrine, for now p~rayer is interrupted. He seeks her everywhere in vain, and can obtain no information concerning her until he meets with Miriam, who assures him of her safety and approaching resto- ration. Miriam, when IKenyon first meets her, appears beauti- ful as ever, richly dressed as a noblemans daughter with the bright gem (of forgiveness) shining on her breast. He meets her again with Donatello, who has also regained his former grace and beauty, upon the Campagna, where they are spend- ing a few brief days of happiness before their final separation. The finding of the Venus, which is here narrated, what does it signify? Beauty for ashes; joy out of sorrow; love, which though mutilated and defaced with clinging earth- liness still retains a divine purity and beauty; the only flower of Eden that has survived the fall, and still blossoms on its ruins. Though manifesting a tender melancholy, both Miriam and IDonatello seem now to have attained that state of elevated and tranquil enjoyment which lifts the pardoned soul above all earthly misfortune. For when the heart has gained that great bliss which springs from a sense of forgiveness, it grows so large, so rich, and so variously endowed, that it can bestow smiles on the joys of those around it, give tears to their woes yes, shed them for sorrows of its own, and still retain a sweet peace throughout all. Yet Donatello continued to wear the penitents robe, and is determined to give himself up to justice; for though the soul may obtain pardon, neither repentance nor [Jan., 36 The itfiarbie Ifraun; a,n Allegory. reformation can save the body from snifering for sin, or remit its penalty, which is death. They cling most lovingly together at the last, knowing that their nnion mnst be short. And in the midst of the carnival,for the world may all be merry- making when onr sonls and bodies silently part,there was a little stir among one portion of the crowd, and they were separated; the one to be imprisoned in the dungeons of the tomb; the other to wander lonely, disembodied, we know not how long, but not withont hope of a final reunion. Hilda had a hopeful sonl, and saw sunlight on the mountain-tops. Kenyon finds ililda, who is released when Donatello sur- renders himself to justice, and happy in wedded love they return to their native land. For the land of art and beauty has grown dark to both, since they behold it in the shadow of a crime, and their souls yearn for the home of their childhood. Are not the higher powers of our nature heaven-born, and when united in harmony, and obedience to divine law, should they not tend thitherward? In his conclusion, the author speaks of a strangely sad event, which has harrowed the feelings of many, with which Miriam was connected. If this be intended as a part of the allegory, we suppose it refers to the Fall of Man. We infer from his narration that the soul is forgiven, but we look in vain for any mention of the merits of an atoning Saviour. It cannot be that he deems reirtor.se can cancel sin! Why then does he never shed the light of faith over his gloomy pictures of despair? We hope that Hawthorne will soon give us the parable of the seven-branched candlestick, for we love to study his riddles, and we are sure that, like the present work, it will be full of poetry, of art, and of philosophy, if not of religion; but we beg him not to dig it out of seven sepul- chres, and invest it with a seven-fold sepulchural gloom.~ We wish he would cultivate the simplicity and cheerfulness of Bunyan. The immortal allegory is easily understood, and no doubt one of its great charms, with the multitude, is that the Pilgrim gets safely by the lions, escapes from the Giant Despair, defeats Apolyon, and having left all his burden at the cross, passes hopefully over the river into light. 1892.] Rep etUion. 37 ARTICLE 111.REPETITION. THEMES are exhausted; I look in vain For something new; an endless train Of poets, seeking fames brief bubble, Have Cleared the field of grain and stubble. N othing remains but new edition Of old ideasRepetition. Happy the man whose world was new, And all thing fresh to his sole view. No copyright, or risk of plagiary; Whateer he wrote was his; no wagery* Or hack-work ;all pure volition; Nor any need of Repetition. But now we glean a barren field, That scarce a grain of wheat will yield To closest search of rhyme or reason; Mere aftermath of harvest season. What wonder if it lack nutrition This unsubstantial Repetition. The Ode to Spring, first sung by Adam, You still repeat, young miss, or madame. Likewise the ditties of a lover Eve heard, are harped over and over By descendants of all condition, Who never tire of Repetition. The tuneful choir assigned high heaven To Milton; Dante claims H; to Shakespeares given The Earth and all that it inhabit; Leaving to others scarce a tid-bit. In such dearth, een genius lacks fruition, And struggles handicapped with Repetition. [* If we cannot have new ideas, we can at least invent new words to rhyme with the very few words which our predecessors have obligingly left without jingling mates.]

1892.] Rep etUion. 37 ARTICLE 111.REPETITION. THEMES are exhausted; I look in vain For something new; an endless train Of poets, seeking fames brief bubble, Have Cleared the field of grain and stubble. N othing remains but new edition Of old ideasRepetition. Happy the man whose world was new, And all thing fresh to his sole view. No copyright, or risk of plagiary; Whateer he wrote was his; no wagery* Or hack-work ;all pure volition; Nor any need of Repetition. But now we glean a barren field, That scarce a grain of wheat will yield To closest search of rhyme or reason; Mere aftermath of harvest season. What wonder if it lack nutrition This unsubstantial Repetition. The Ode to Spring, first sung by Adam, You still repeat, young miss, or madame. Likewise the ditties of a lover Eve heard, are harped over and over By descendants of all condition, Who never tire of Repetition. The tuneful choir assigned high heaven To Milton; Dante claims H; to Shakespeares given The Earth and all that it inhabit; Leaving to others scarce a tid-bit. In such dearth, een genius lacks fruition, And struggles handicapped with Repetition. [* If we cannot have new ideas, we can at least invent new words to rhyme with the very few words which our predecessors have obligingly left without jingling mates.] 38 Repetition. [Jan., Hence poets starve, but not quite alone Do they seek for bread and find a stone; Beating their brains with little avail, In threshing old straw with a new flail. And die at last of inanition And all because of Repetition. What new thing do historians write, Save sometimes to prove that black is white; Upsetting some harmless old story, And throwing doubts on loves glory? Vainly they scoff at fixed tradition The fables remainby Repetition. Philosophers are evermore guessing About things in generalconfessing That Newton discovered pretty much all Thats very certain in the apples fall, Forestalling their own erudition, And leaving them victims of Repetition. Our new inventions prove to be old; And almost daily patents are sold For contrivances China or Japan Were using before our era began; Still later, we roamed in savage condition While Solomon was bored by Repetition. What he would think if he lived to-day And spoke his mind, it is hard to say. Perhaps he might admit the telephone To be something new under the sun. But dazed by Hallos, would wish one Had spared him this kind of Repetition. Even Nature, in her wondrous forms Of sunshine and shadow, calms and storms, Seedtime and harvest that never fail, Whom Age cannot wither nor custom stale, Has long since relinquished ambition To be other than her own Repetition. 1892.] Repetition. 39 Critics like to cut and thrust keenly; Sometimes fairly, and sometimes meanly; But after all has been said and done, The good and the bad rolled into one Is merely the old mountains parturition. Their great muss is little mus~ Repetition. Just now comes one of them who cites Old lines like those the Laureate writes. Not charging an actual purloining Of gold only changed by recoining; But showing that close inquisition Finds everywhere someRepetition. This theme might further easily wend Around in circle quite without end, Like Reviewing Reviewsscheme most rare For showing how not to get there: Watering water needless mission And latest phase of Repetition. Quite likely some wiseacre reading These lines will say: You prove your pleading By borrowing largely from old sage So-and-So (quoting the text and page). Your jingle is doomed to same perdition You find for othersRepetition. Another, equally sagacious, Says: Friend, your theorys fallacious. The new with the old so closely blends One never begins, other never ends. All would be lost past recognition But for constant Repetition. Of the dilemma take either horn That pleases you ;the latest born, However wise, can do no more Than add his small mite of wit or lore. Time grinds it all with slow attrition, And winnows the chaff by Repetition. University Club, N. Y. 40 Should ~Vlarriaae8 be Indis8oluble? [Jan., ARTICLE 1WSHOULD MARRIAGES BE INDISSOLU BLE? Ix discussing this subject it is customary to assume that Jesus Christ, in what he said regarding it, designed to cover the whole topic of divorce for the Christian ages. But we regard whether he did so as a most important preliminary question. There frequently appears an utter forgetfulness or ignoring of the circumstances of the times in which Christ spoke and of the immediate occasion which led to his words. Men look back through the whole atmosphere of divorce legislation and dissension, and interpret Christ in this light, instead of taking their point of view as his contemporaries, and inquiring how he must have been understood by those who listened to him. But to gain this point of view is the first step towards gaining a correct understanding of our Lord. For his hearers did understand only what was based at least on the law and cus- toms of their own time. Among the Jews, as among the Greeks and IRomans of that day, divorce was entirely a personal matter. The public had nothing to do with it. We can hardly conceive a greater difference of conditions from the ideas and usages of our own time. Subsequently to what the historian Mommsen calls the Emancipation of Woman in the Roman Empire, and the broadening views of life due to the spread of the Gra~co- Roman civilization, this ancient custom of arbitrary divorce had begun to be called in question. Even during the reign of Augustus, measures began to be taken to check what was felt to be an evil. In no part of the empire probably was this discussion more rife than among the Jews, as it existed between the schools of Shammai and Hillel. Whitby among commentators, and Edersheiiu in his Life and Times of Jesus, the Messiah, see Christs words in their true historical setting. Whitby also ~peaks of Moses law of divorce as a permission from the same authority as originated marriage, and says that

40 Should ~Vlarriaae8 be Indis8oluble? [Jan., ARTICLE 1WSHOULD MARRIAGES BE INDISSOLU BLE? Ix discussing this subject it is customary to assume that Jesus Christ, in what he said regarding it, designed to cover the whole topic of divorce for the Christian ages. But we regard whether he did so as a most important preliminary question. There frequently appears an utter forgetfulness or ignoring of the circumstances of the times in which Christ spoke and of the immediate occasion which led to his words. Men look back through the whole atmosphere of divorce legislation and dissension, and interpret Christ in this light, instead of taking their point of view as his contemporaries, and inquiring how he must have been understood by those who listened to him. But to gain this point of view is the first step towards gaining a correct understanding of our Lord. For his hearers did understand only what was based at least on the law and cus- toms of their own time. Among the Jews, as among the Greeks and IRomans of that day, divorce was entirely a personal matter. The public had nothing to do with it. We can hardly conceive a greater difference of conditions from the ideas and usages of our own time. Subsequently to what the historian Mommsen calls the Emancipation of Woman in the Roman Empire, and the broadening views of life due to the spread of the Gra~co- Roman civilization, this ancient custom of arbitrary divorce had begun to be called in question. Even during the reign of Augustus, measures began to be taken to check what was felt to be an evil. In no part of the empire probably was this discussion more rife than among the Jews, as it existed between the schools of Shammai and Hillel. Whitby among commentators, and Edersheiiu in his Life and Times of Jesus, the Messiah, see Christs words in their true historical setting. Whitby also ~peaks of Moses law of divorce as a permission from the same authority as originated marriage, and says that 1892.1 Should 3liarriages be Indi88oluble? 41 God may also now authorize putting away the wife for cruelty and other mischief. But the two schools were at one regarding the absolute per- sonal right of divorce, they only differed as to the occasions of putting this right in execution. With these circumstances in mind the passages in the gospels touching the subject are easily understood. First, in Matt. v. 31 and 32, we have a portion of a paragraph beginning with the command against adultery and explaining how the command may be violated in effect though not in form. This paragraph is completed by annulling as the Chris- tian law the Mosaic permission of divorce except in the one case of fornication. But the manner in which this is done seems generally to have escaped the notice of writers on the passage. Christ speaks wholly from the point of view of the woman. He says nothing here of the moral status of the man himself. It is as though the guilt of the husband were self-evident and beneath contempt. Butanother thing which has commonly been overlookedhe had covered the ground of the husbands guilt in the 27th and 28th verses preceding: But I say unto you that whosoever looketh upon a woman to lust after her, hath committed adultery with her already in his heart. An inno- cent wife was always put away to provide for another mar- riage, i. e., with the desire for another woman. Christ thus covers the whole subject and sweeps away the Jewish custom of the divorce of innocent wives and divorces from lustful or selfish desires. When we come to Matt. xix. 312, we have Christ answering a specific question which springs out of the current discussions to which I have referred. The Pharisees put to Christ a test question (rEtpct~owre~ ~vt~v~: Is it lawful for a man to put his wife away for every cause ? In reply, Christ again takes occasion to withdraw the liberty of personal divorce, which Moses had granted, except for the one cause of fornication. Mark (x. 29) and Luke (xvi. 18) make Christ cut up the power of personal divorce, root and branch, without regard even to the guilt of the wife. The apparent discrepancy here between Matthew and the other two has been a real perplexity to interpreters. If it was 42 Should Alctrrictges l~e Indis8olu6le? [Jan., Christs design to set forth the whole matter of divorce in a rule for the Christian ages, there seems to be no satisfactory explanation of it. But if on the other hand it was Christs design simply to answer the particular question of the Phari- sees, whether a man might put away his wife for any cause (Kal-a 7rao-av ~ur(av), the specification which we find in Matthew becomes an incidental matter. There can be no doubt but that Christ intended to abolish personal divorce even in the case of marital unfaithfulness, as we now can see he has done in the Christian world. This position is confirmed by what we consider the correct rendering of what Matt. xix. 6, viz: What therefore God joined together, let not a man, I. e., the husband, put asunder. Even this restriction was more than the disciples could bear without being ready to throw overboard marriage altogether. But having their attention caught by the antithesis between God and man interpreters have enlarged the proposition into: What God hath joined together let no human power put asunder. The nearest which correct exegesis will allow to this is: What God hath joined together, let not the husband, as a mere man, put asunder. Jerome, as quoted by Wordsworth, shows a correct under- standing of the passage, and hits the nail on the head when he says: A man puts asunder what God hath joined together, when he puts away a wife to marry another. The rendering I have given is required by the absence of the article before dv9pawo9. A noun used generically demands the article. This usage of the Greek is familiar. The evan- gelists conform to it with almost perfect regularity in using the article with dvOpwwo9 where the race is meant. An example occurs in the reply of the disciples in the tenth verse, and another in Mark ii. 27: The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. The article may sometimes be omitted~ as Hadley says in his grammar, where it seems unnecessary to express the definiteness of the noun. But in the case of those to whom Christ was replying, any advance upon their views would have called for the greatest explicitness. The meaning of dvOpwwo9 without the article is well tested by 1892.] Should Marriages be Indissoluble? 43 1 Cor. vii. 1: It is good for a man not to tonch a woman. To take man and woman here as universals, would not only make Paul contradict himself in the succeeding verses, but set him squarely against the revelation of the Divine wisdom and will in Genesis. If dv0pwwo9 without the article is a universal in the passage before us, it is the only case in the gospels, unless Luke xviii. 2 should be so regardedwhich is doubtful. If any one supposes that the antithesis of the divine and human makes the form universal, he will find by examining that the New Testament idiom generally expresses this antith- esis by the plural men and that the article is used with it, unless the article is omitted in both branches of the contrast for the sake of simplicity or condensation. ileb. xiii. 6 is poetic. If then these passages in the gospels, when properly under- stood, relate only to the question of the Pharisees and the cur- rent discussion of the times regarding personal divorce, we must look elsewhere for the scriptural law regarding divorce by public authority, and admit that Christ did not intend in these, his recorded, utterances to cover the whole subject of divorce. Christ referred to the ancient scriptures and the divine ordi- nance in the beginning, in a way to make it certain that marriage is normally a permanent union during the life of the parties united. But how the two were to be united, and whether they could in any case and by any human authority be separated, neither the scripture to which Christ referred, nor Christ him- self, declare. In the first place, the Scriptures lay down no law of marriage by which the two are to be united. That has ever been left to human jndgment and custom. And this is a matter of no small consequence when we come to consider the question of separation. It will not do to make too much of the mere natural union. This would lead us to a phase of Tolstoiism, which is but a worship of instinct. How then are a man and woman united in a real marriage, taking the world over. It must be done by some earthly power representing God, else God has no part in it beyond the forces and facts of nature. But we say: What God had joined together. The agency then which God has ever employed in uniting men and women in marriage is the wisdom and sanction of other human 44 Should Marriages 6e Indissoluble? [Jan., beings, i e., the people through law or fixed custom combined with nature, so as to secure publicity and permanence. In other words God joins in marriage only by public human au- thority directing and controlling the dictates and processes of nature. But if God acts by human agency in uniting, can he not equally separate by human agency? But as God has not laid down any legal form or detailed statement of principles for the contraction of marriage, the absence of the express permis- sion of separation by public authority cannot be held as evidence that such separation can never be according to the mind of God. The one being left to human wisdom implies that the other would be so left. But we are not without biblical evidence on the subject. If Ezra and Nehemiah were inspired leaders of the Jewish people, we find divorce among the Jews by public authority. The Jews of that time had erred in their marriages, but there was real marriage there. The pathos of the last chapter of Ezra needs no emphasis: For there were women and children there, and the people wept very sore. But the Elders of the people went through with their work according to the law. Now if divorce by public authority was at that time according to the will and law of God, if the eternal principles of right were not violated, are they now violated when divorce takes place by public sanction and on general grounds where the weeping has all passed away and given place to despair and bitterness? Another class of divorces by divine authority is found in the same section of Exodus with the decalogue (xxi. 4). The law here directs the separation of the wife from the husband, unless the husband chooses perpetual bondage. Now it is very plain that personal arbitrary divorce, and divorce by reference to the wisdom, advice and authority of the elders of the people, i. e., of the whole people through their representatives, are two very different things. As the Old Testament permitted the latter, and Christ in touching the subject uttered no protest against the procedure of Ezra and only protested against the personal divorce allowed by Moses, we gain new evidence that in the Gospel passages Christ was 1892.1 Should Jiilarriage8 be Indi8soluble .~ 45 not speaking with regard to divorce in general, but with regard to the personal separations which were effected under the lust- ful desire of new marriages. The question now recurs how far the bringing in of public advice and authority affects the matter of divorce. And per- haps all will agree that the matter deserves more careful exam- ination than has been commonly given to it. The relation of marriage to public law is of itself a fertile theme. As I have said, the Scriptures lay down no law for the contraction of marriage. When we think of the importance to good morals, as we now regard it, of right legislation, we may perhaps be surprised. But this being the case, we could not expect them to speak of the matter of legal divorce. And the absence of its specific permission is not evidence that it is not divinely permitted, any more than the absence of divine requirements in regard to the mode of entering marriage proves that no legal forms or restrictions are permissible. Now the Bible says that the powers that be are ordained of God. If, then, God joins together in marriage by the powers that be, is not the sundering of the tie by the same powers, God himself, dividing those whom he has previously united. Is there any other way, in fact, of justifying Ezra in his course regarding heathen marriages during the exile? The powers that be therefore must have the right to act for God in this matter, unless it appears that it is one which is excepted from their jurisdiction. And the burden of proof is with those who would make it an exception. It may be claimed that the dissolution of marriage must be exempted from the authority of the state for the reason that marriage is not a thing in itself reversible; that it results in the birth of new human beings who cannot be remanded to non-existence, and for whose care the continued union of the parents is required. It i~ true that here we strike upon the real sacred- ness of marriage. There would be little sacredness of marital union in a world of barren marriages, if such a thing were con- ceivable. But it is a matter for the wisdom of observation and experience whether the children of unfortunate marriages are best trained under a union of bitterness and compulsion, or by the severed parents, where it can be done in peace and gentle- 46 Should Marriages 6e Indissolulde .~ [Jan., ness. The results in the welfare of children, where peace and happiness have left the home, are not such as to weigh heavily in favor of the continuance of such connections. Indeed, no valid objection can be made on the ground of the children, to having the continuance of the marriage relation, in such cases, submitted to the advice and arbitration of those who represent the wisdom of the people, and the authority of God. An additional reason for reconsidering the question whether Christ intended, in what he said, to set forth the whole subject of divorce, is found in the fact that social changes have given quite new forms to the divorce problem. In antiquity, divorce was almost always the putting away of the wife by the hus- band. In recent times, by far the greater number of applica- tions for judicial separation is of wives who seek release from the unfaithfulness or cruelty of husbands. This doubtless arises from the greater ease with which women now support themselves in an honorable independence. Separation does not now involve dishonor or discomfort; and the practical question, what a woman shall submit to in the marriage bond is quite changed. But to go on with the New Testament teaching, we turn to Paul, the great interpreter of Christ. His doctrine with which we are chiefly concerned is found in I Cor. vii., where he treats of cases of separation. He first di- rects a wife not to seek separation merely on the ground of difference of faith. But says: If she depart (or should she already have departed, as Woolsey translates), let her remain unmarried or be reconciled to her husband. So far, Paul is clearly against divorce and re-marriage on sentimental grounds. He then goes on to cases where a separation is effected by the unbelieving party. His language is very strong as to the freedom of the other party. The words 6v ~3E~dvXorrat, is not in slavery, have led many to infer that he would be understood that the abandoned party is entirely absolved from obligation, and is free to remarry. If this had been said of the woman alone, the well-known relation of slavery to marriage would per- haps compel us to this conclusion. But is said equally of the man to whom this line of thought is inapplicable, and we must infer that Paul is only thinking of a peaceful separation in liv- ing apart, where peaceful union cannot exist. Besides, we must 1892.1 Should Marriages be indissoluble ~ 47 never forget Pauls estimate of celibacy where we are judging him by inference, instead of direct statement. The probabili- ties are all against Pauls intending to provide for remarriage. On this point, Dr. Woolsey has left little to be said. (See his Divorce and Divorce Legislation.) Pauls law for Christians separated on sentimental grounds is to remain unmarried or be reconciled to the former partner. Now, to say in this world of mistakes, that a mistake in mar- riage is one for which there is no rectification this side the grave, is taking a position for which very express and unmis- takable authority must be given before it will find general acceptance. If God has so revealed his wisdom and his will, that is sufficient. But the want of agreement among honest and intelligent interpreters upon this point, warrants us in examin- ing our way very carefully and moving slowly. It seems necessary, therefore, to separate the demands of the Christian conscience from legislation. Christ and Paul lay down the former, which make marriage indissoluble except for fornica- tion, and requires a partner rejected from the consort of life to remain unmarried or be reconciled in a return to the orig- inal bond. This law recognizes that unity of flesh cannot be severed but by amputation, and that such cutting asunder will not be desired by a member of the united life, as long as another remedy is possible, i. e., during the continuance of life. We do not, however, agree with those who bring into this discus- sion Pauls illustration of the law and Christ in Romans vii., but we think that this is pressing the figure quite beyond Pauls intent, which seems merely to be to use as an illustration the ordinary status of husband and wife living together, without any reference to occasional and exceptional conditions. But when we consider what laws should be enacted in regard to those desiring divorce, the case is quite changed. In the first place, if all were obedient to the law of the Christian con- science there would be little need of any legislation of the ordinary kind. It is a sad fact, but a real one, that mankind very largely refuse or fail to submit their conduct to the law of the Christian conscience. It is for such chiefly that laws are made. Laws for such must be adapted to their condition of advancement and existing character. It is not the office of 48 Should Afwrrictges be Indissoluble .~ [Jan., legislation to enfore a moral ideal not acknowledged by the generality of those for whom laws are made. But it may be said that the laws of men ought to conform to the law of God. Very true, when you understand the different function and design of the divine and human laws. The divine law is aimed at the heart, the source of conduct. Human law cannot aim at this, for it cannot see it. It can touch only a wide outer circle of overt action. Inside this circle it leaves the divine law to do its own work, uninterfered with. It never attempts to enforce it, nor does it throw any discredit upon it. It only regulates the outward conduct of men holding them- selves in varying relations to the inner, higher law. And, I repeat, it has to adapt itself to the knowledge and conditions of those for whom it is chiefly designed. Thus the law con- demns the breaking of the peace by the intoxicated, but legis- lation does not touch simple drunkenness. The legislator, therefore, is compelled to look at the matter of divorce from the general standpoint of human welfare, man being what he is. Many who have been married claim a sep- aration under the great law of self-preservation, and preserva- tion not only of life, but from suffering and degradation worse than death, which, alas, result not infrequently from abuses of marriage. They are unable to find any applicability of theo- retical views of marriage to their cases. They cry for deliver- ance. They can see no reason why they should not be allowed a release from what is violent and wrong, and permission yet to form a normal and happy alliance, if opportunity offers. The deliverance and the new opportunity which they crave seem to them much more like the work of a merciful God who ever keeps open a door for repentance and amendment, than the holding them to bonds which have become odious and denying to them the opportunity of a normal life. To err is human, and to say that an error in marriage is without remedy in this life, that wise counsel, just judges and good laws are powerless for relief, seems to contradict the general conditions under which we live. Moreover, we are looking at marriage in a large way, as a human institution, not merely at marriage among Christians so-called. Not to speak of savage nations, polygamous peoples, 1892.] Should Marriages be Indissoluble? 49 and those who practice child-marriage, as in India, must be taken into account. For we must admit that real marriage exists under all these various conditions. And the question whether marriage is indissoluble must be answered in view of them all. As Christianity advances into eastern lands, the question becomes a practical one, what to do with such connec- tions. Shall large populations of women and especially of female children, be thrown into lifelong celibacy? Shall the wisdom of human legislators not be called into requisition, because Christ, in answering a question of the Pharisees, regarding the power of personal divorce, has been understood to cover the whole subject of divorce? Is it not better to revise our understanding of Christs words? If travelers find that a road is bringing them into danger, or far from where they wish to be, they infer that they have taken a wrong direction, no matter how confident they may have been that they were right when they set out. Certainly wise efforts to undo the worlds errors in marriage by the intervention of the powers that be, when they them- selves have become enlightened above the mass of the people such efforts as are now beginning to be made in India, seem much more like God sundering evil ties, than the unions of the past in such communities are like God joining together by evil laws and customs. Again I say that a proper view of the function of law furnishes the correct solution of the relation of legislation to moral duty. Legislation does not make marriage. In a com- munity without laws, marriage could exist as validly as any- where. The simplest terms of genuine marriage are the union by mutual consent of two unmarried persons for life. What the law does is to prescribe certain forms of acknowledgment on the condition of which it guarantees certain rights and priv- ileges, and protection in them. What the law does in these respects, it can undo. If parties find themselves in suffering and danger in consequence of these granted rights, and ask of the law release from them because of their abuse, the law is bound, we think, to grant it. The law does not thereby touch the moral obligations of the married. It simply withdraws from either party the power to abuse the other in consequence of sauc voL. xx. 4 50 8,4ould Jfctrriage8 be Indissoluble? [Jan., tions which it had bestowed on the supposition that a proper union was being made, which turned out not to be a true sup- position. The parties then are left to such moral sense and con- science as they have. If the injured party acknowledges the law of Christ, he or she will remain unmarried. ~J am suppos- ing that the one exception does not exist.) If the party does not feel thus bound, he or she may seek another marriage. I do not conceive it right for the law to forbid it in the case of the innocent party. In the case of the party who has done the wrong, the law may and should refuse to grant him or her similar rights and powers over another partner. This is a just and certainly but a mild punishment. But to refuse to make divorce a vinculo, and to forbid the innocent party the privilege of a normal and happy union, is punishing the innocent with the guiltya principle often acted upon in barbarous times, bat abandoned in all civilized nations, at least, in every other case. But if it is said again that the act itself, of granting divorce, a vinculo, proclaims that it is morally right to marry again, I reply: INot at all. It merely proclaims that it is legally right to marry again. And it does this largely for the reason that the men who make laws, and those for whom they are made, are not able to agree upon this question of moral right. Good men have discussed it from the beginning, and perhaps will continue to, to the end of time, without reaching a common consent. Meanwhile Christians will act under the divine law as they understand it. But human law must go on doing its humbler work for the average human being, rectifying its own mistakes, as it best can, and hoping for the good time when it shall not be called on to do what in the ideal Christian society it would rarely, or never, be asked to do. Our conclusion therefore is that the indissolubility of mar- riage should be aimed at as the ideal of the Christian conscience, but not be enacted into law to be enforced. THOMAS STOUGHTON PorwIN. 1892.] Philadelphia: A Study in iJilorals. 51 ARTICLE V.PIIILADELPHIA: A STUDY IN MORALS. IT has been the habit of Philadelphia to plume itself upon being the most American city of America. Lacking the noisy metropolitan character of New York, withont the assumed culture of Boston, and far removed from the loud aggressiveness of inland Chicago, it prided itself on its Americanism, and the claim is not without foundation. Here, if American liberty was not actually born, it was tenderly nursed through its experimental period and cared for through its full growth. Though the founding of the city goes back no further than the time of William Penn of estimable memory, whose religious instincts were not so firmly rooted that he disdained to cheat so ungodly a creature as the poor Indian, the historical associa- tions of the city are of the most exalted order. Rome, Paris, Philadelphia, have had enacted in the midst of them more scenes that have influenced the history of humanity than any city of the world. And the memorable events that lifted Philadel- phia to the utmost pinnacle of fame, were not less momentous nor less abiding in their consequences than those which dis- tinguished her sister cities. No just estimate of Philadelphia is possible without keep- ing in view her historic associations and the important rank she holds by right of them, among American cities. As an active seat of right and liberty in the war for independence, Phila- delphia has long retained an exalted rank. It is this which gives her claims for consideration to-day, and it is on this her citizens rest their reputation for Americanism. Americans, as a rule, do not appreciate the value of historic associations. They are constantly changing the names of their streets and houses with almost as much regularity as they change their clothes. The country is too young to yet have any relics of even a respectable antiquity, and intimate association with the spick and span new things of the new world breeds contempt for those which are simply old. Children, even before they are out of pinafores, assert an independence of their parents

1892.] Philadelphia: A Study in iJilorals. 51 ARTICLE V.PIIILADELPHIA: A STUDY IN MORALS. IT has been the habit of Philadelphia to plume itself upon being the most American city of America. Lacking the noisy metropolitan character of New York, withont the assumed culture of Boston, and far removed from the loud aggressiveness of inland Chicago, it prided itself on its Americanism, and the claim is not without foundation. Here, if American liberty was not actually born, it was tenderly nursed through its experimental period and cared for through its full growth. Though the founding of the city goes back no further than the time of William Penn of estimable memory, whose religious instincts were not so firmly rooted that he disdained to cheat so ungodly a creature as the poor Indian, the historical associa- tions of the city are of the most exalted order. Rome, Paris, Philadelphia, have had enacted in the midst of them more scenes that have influenced the history of humanity than any city of the world. And the memorable events that lifted Philadel- phia to the utmost pinnacle of fame, were not less momentous nor less abiding in their consequences than those which dis- tinguished her sister cities. No just estimate of Philadelphia is possible without keep- ing in view her historic associations and the important rank she holds by right of them, among American cities. As an active seat of right and liberty in the war for independence, Phila- delphia has long retained an exalted rank. It is this which gives her claims for consideration to-day, and it is on this her citizens rest their reputation for Americanism. Americans, as a rule, do not appreciate the value of historic associations. They are constantly changing the names of their streets and houses with almost as much regularity as they change their clothes. The country is too young to yet have any relics of even a respectable antiquity, and intimate association with the spick and span new things of the new world breeds contempt for those which are simply old. Children, even before they are out of pinafores, assert an independence of their parents 52 Philadelphia: A Study in 211 orals. [Jan., that would be startling in an older community, but which in America is excused as an indication of the national progres- siveness. With the possible exception of Boston, the historic associations of Philadelphia are richer than those of any other American city, and they are therefore of the utmost import- ance in illustrating its history, life, and civic character. The men of 76 were animated by a holy zeal for liberty and for right. Their patriotism was spotted by no unmanly act; no lust for spoil, nor for personal aggrandizement marred their efforts. They may not have all been heroes, they might not all have been as single hearted as their historians would draw them. Human nature is much the same among all people and in all times, but were there any who took part in the great events of that epoch, actuated by selfish or wrongful methods, they were lost in the mass of pure-minded patriots who made it famous. Midway between the northern and southern colonial cities, Philadelphia took the leading place in the struggle for independence, both by its position and the patriotism of its citizens. It was natural that in such a locality and among such a people the immortal declaration of inde- pendence should have been written and signed by the acknowl- edged representatives of the people. Though the American character lacks that impulsive senti- mentality which so distinguishes the French, it is impossible to believe that the good folk of Philadelphia were not deeply impressed by the great events transpiring in the midst of them, nor is it strange that every relic of that age has been preserved with jealous care save when the inevitable demands of progress and the selfish greed of individuals has swept them away. At all events there is no American city in which the remains of national antiquity are more highly treasured, and it is a dis- tinguished trait of the inhabitants that to this day, there is maintained a social hierarchy based on ancestral connections and colonial blood that is without a parallel in the land of the free, the place of refuge for the oppressed of all nations. However opposed to current traditions of American life such a fabric may be, it has at least the merit of indicating the regard in which the past is held by the present. The records f the families who trace their ancestry back beyond the foun 1892.1 Philadelphia: A Study in Jiforals. 53 dation of American liberty is indisputable evidence of the number of good men and faithful citizens who have made Philadelphia their home. In a community in which wicked- ness reigned and worldliness was the motto, the falls from grace would have been too numerous to permit the establish- ment of an ancestral society. Thus with its historic memories Philadelphia has maintained a moral atmosphere of the purest order. The lofty example of the higher circles has made itself felt in all grades of society, and it is no exaggeration to say that few communities of its size can offer the same amount of uprightness to the square mile as Philadelphia. As a matter of fact it is impossible to be openly wicked in Philadelphia. Small boys when they want to learn to smoke or to do other forbidden things, are forced to seek the most secluded portions of the parks, or the utmost parts of the city. Notwithstanding its vast area, Philadelphia is really limited in extent. The dwellings of the people stretch out in all direc- tions, and the rich and poor alike have homes and houses of their own. But the business portion of the city and the streets most used by its inhabitants are small, narrow, and short. Business is concentrated in a few streets; the large retail houses, offices, and even wholesale establishments must be within a certain area or they will not thrive. Everybody goes down Chestnut street and every one is constantly meeting every one else. IMlen of note acquire a familiarity which would be impossible in a city where business and professional life are more diffuse. But this remarkable publicity is not the only fact that helps to maintain public morality. The exclusive circles of Philadelphia are closely united by inter- marriages; the union of one of the ancient families with a representative of the new rich, which is becoming as char- acteristic of Philadelphia as of all other communities, excites almost as much attention and consternation as a royal misalli- ance would create in the most exalted circles of the old world. And so closely are the lines drawn that those members of the foreign nobility who have sought the hands and fortunes of Philadelphia maids, are regarded as being honored by being received into its oldest families. The proudest aristocracy of Europe is not bluer-blooded nor more exclusive than that of Philadelphia. 54 PAiladelphia: A Study in Aforals. [Jan., The blue blood of Philadelphia is its pride and its strength. Though its aristocracy draws the social lines with unprece- dented closeness, its most distinguished members are foremost in every enterprise which concerns the honor and glory of the city. They pride themselves not alone upon their lineage, but upon their reputation as the guardians of the citys most sacred associations. In every good work they are active leaders, and no public enterprise has been carried to a successful comple- tion in which, if not the active originators, they have been the most active workers. Their purses are constantly open to the demand of public necessities, and the programme of every local enterprise is not much different from a list of Philadel- phias social leaders. Their public spirit has endeared them to the whole community, and even those whom they view socially with abhorrence would not be less disturbed than themselves over any event which would affect their honor and integrity, their worth or their usefulness. No breath of scandal has yet touched them that has not moved the city to its foundations, and there is a charitable and well-meant effort to cover up any wrong-doing which might inadvertently have become public property. The reputation of the city must be maihtained at all costs, even though things be winked at that would be intol- erable in less exalted personages. It is well to keep these facts in mind, for some recent events in Philadelphia have soiled its spotless reputation and cast the dark cloud of doubt upon the names of many who have been in the front rank of good works, whose public probity has been the highest, whose moral worth has been until now un- questioned. The details of the defalcation of the city treas- urer in the early part of this year and the collapse of the Key- stone National Bank can have little general interest to those who are not personally concerned in the scandals unearthed at the time. But when it is remembered that these scandals give quite a new insight into the constitution of Philadelphia soci- ety and intelligence, they become public property. All events which throw light on the evolution of morals are of the utmost value to the student of society, and the incidents of the Phila- delphia financial mess have shown that city in a new aspect which cannot but deeply affect the influence it may have in 1892.1 Philadelphia: A Study in lJIoral8. 55 the future as the guardian of American ideas, as the possessor of the most sacred traditions of America, as the representative American city where good works abound not less than good men, and which for years has been held up to America and the world at large as the model community of the universe. Since the fall of Lucifer there has been no greater collapse than that of the late city treasurer of Philadelphia. He was a man who for years had been looked upon by the general public, the public by whom he was elevated to his high office, the public whose interests he betrayed, the public that rewarded him for his past good, and condemned him for his later evil, as a man of unlimited trustworthiness. He had made a local reputation as an unselfish guardian of the citys finances. From his seat in the city council chamber he had closely watched olThnding and suspicions officials. Long experience had made him familiar with every detail of mnnicipal finance, and when two years ago, he went before the people as a candi- date for the office of city treasurer, there was a popular feeling that a just man could now be appropriately rewarded by his grateful fellow-citizens and that for once the right man would have the right office. He was elected, and for two years com- manded the respect of the community by the able manner in which he performed the duties assigned him. A series of financial disturbances, which in a measure had been felt in all parts of the country, culminated in Philadelphia in the failure of the Keystone National Bank. Never had a financial insti- tution been more wrongly managed, and its collapse revealed a state of rottenness almost unparalleled in financial history. Its most important immediate consequence was the revelation of the close connection the city treasuerer had maintained with it and his own embezzlement of a large amount of city and state funds. It is unnecessary to go further into the details of this story, but its value as a contribution to the history of Philadelphia morality is very great. It is well to remember the past record of the disgraced official and his local reputation, to understand the full significance of its later bearings, He was a poor man, his business was small, and, prior to his election, he had no credit, yet shortly after he had assumed office he had large 56 Philadelphia: A Study in IJlorals. [Ja n. sums of money on deposit to his credit in numerous banking institutions, he loaned huge amounts to his brokers, and bought and sold stocks to great extent. His operations are known to have amounted to several hundred thousand dollars and his defalcation exceeded two millions. Sad as the fall of Mr. Bardsley was, the excuses put forth by those who had profited by his misdeeds are even more so. The criminal who is caught in his peculations is naturally regarded as the perpe- trator of all manner of evil. Mr. Bardsleys collapse was fol- lowed by endless public discourses on his misdeeds, and the vocabulary of the daily press was exhausted in exhibiting him in his imagined true light. Had his crimes been confined to himself, had no others been affected by them, his story, though sad enough, would have been but the history of a single man. As a matter of fact, the Bardsley defalcation has affected an entire community. Public men whose reputation has hitherto been untouched by the breath of scandal, have been shown in a new and unpleasant light, perjury and falsehood have been exhibited in instances that only a few months before would have been deemed incredible. The highest of the land have been drawn into the scandal, and the mischievous spirit of rumor has been active in spreading abroad the most scandalous reports. Much of this is pnre rumor and imagination, but the noise of false allegations has not been lessened because it served to direct public attention from the aetnal scandals that were being done in full light of day. So far as Mr. Bardsley is con- concerned, he was a self-confessed criminal. His thefts and perjuries were unquestioned. Yet the men who had once been his political associates in the city councils, men whom once he had led and fascinated by his purity of thought and of purpose, condoned his crime sufficiently to exempt him from the disgrace of impeachment for high crimes and iuisdeiuean- ors committed in office. Practically this did not affect his final personal punishment; but what a spectacle for the civilized world! The city councils of Philadelphia meet in no less a structure than Independence Hall itself, a building consecrated by the most precious of American memories, a building which should all else in this country pass away, is worthy to be pro- 1892.] Philadelphia: A Study in iitoral8. 57 tected by the last blood of its citizens, a building the very sight of which should instil fresh love of liberty and right into the breast of every living man, a building in which it should be impossible to commit a crime, above all to overlook one. Yet in the midst of these holy memories, in the center of the ulti- mate shrine of Americanism, a body of men chosen from the people for their integrity and worth as the peoples represen- tatives, who had every man of them sworn to preserve the citys honor unharmed and untouched, made themselves the associates of a criminal by exempting him from a portion of his just punishment. Well may one ask if it was for this the men of 76 fought, if it was for this the pure patriots of a hundred years ago lived and died, that the scene of their most nwmorable event should be desecrated by their successors. But this is not all. The public conscience of Philadelphia, the once noted morality of her people illustrated in this trans- action, were to receive further exemplification. Mr. Bardsley still continues the central figure of the story; his crimes have performed no more important function than the unveiling of Philadelphias moral atmosphere. It was natural that a man who was thus publicly excused and permitted to depart from the office he had most shamefully abused, should expect still further consideration from the public he had wronged. And he was strengthened in this belief by the exhibition made by the good and moral men who had profited by his misdeeds. The next chapter is indeed a strange one. It shows a long procession of Philadelphia bankers, brokers, men of unspotted reputation, in whose care the honor of the city would at any time have been gladly left, coming forward and solemnly taking oath before Almighty God that the large sums of money Mr. Bardsley had deposited with them, on which they were, many of them, wrongly allowing interest, represented his own personal fortune. The fact that this man before his election had been poor and so overwhelmed in debt that a semi-public effort was made to relieve him of his necessities by subscrip- tion, did not enter the minds of these eminent gentlemen, who lifted their eyes to heaven and could not see where money, which could only have been public money, came from. Even more amazing, more crushing in its effect than that shown by 58 Philadelphia: A Study in iforals. [Jan., the politicians of the councils, was this testimony, coming from the very salt of the city. And it is the more so because these good men knew they might be fonnd out and their sin made public property. It is small wonder, in view of such wide- spread corruption among the most unsuspected individuals, that Philadelphia has grown sick of her scandals and mighty efforts have been made to stem the tide of investigation which was bringing out unpalatable truths in unexpected quarters. It was natural that the chief criminal in the story should have found comfort in the morality thus revealed and, in the rapidly extending hosts of associates, have looked for still further consideration. It could well have been imagined that a city in which these things could have been brought to pass, almost anything in the way of an excuse would be accepted. Accordingly Mr. Bardsley asked the judge to deal lightly with him because he had not profited by any of his mis- deeds, and because he was ignorant that it was wrong for him to treat public funds as his own until after he had paid them over to other officials, when, naturally enough, he could do nothing with them. Why either of these pleas should have been offered for the consideration of rational men, is difficult to understand. The law recognizes no such thing as ignor- ance, and it is the height of folly for a man whose entire life has been spent in the public service, to come forward after the eleventh hour and affirm that, in looking upon money paid him for taxes as his own, he committed no crime. It is impossible to conceive why a man who had used public money for his own personal advantage, had engaged in illegal and unwise speculation, should present a request that his crimes be overlooked because all his wickedness had not profited him so much as a single cent. It is altogether a new doctrine in morals that an offender is only guilty if his crimes be success- ful. The application of this principle would soon free our jails and penitentiaries of a host of would-be criminals whose chief cause for regret, which is heightened rather than dimin- ished by their capture, is that they failed. Under such rulings life and property would soon be at a discount, for a necessary consequence would be a large addition to the criminal ranks, if success alone was to be the criterion by which their crimes were to be judged. 1892.] Philadelphia: A Study in iJIioral8. 59 A few months before, such excuses would have called down the indignation of the entire community had any criminal ven- tured to put them forth, but the man who had closely studied the moral atmosphere of Philadelphia was not afraid to insult the intelligence of her citizens still further, and surely the morality he had caused to be revealed justified him in his estimate. It is unnecessary to go further into this matter, as fortunately for the shattered honor of the city, these pleas were without effect. It is difficult to determine in this case which is the more depraved, the mind of the man who con- ceived such excuses, or the morality of a city which led even a self-confessed criminal to suppose that they might be accepted. In view of what went before it seems a narrow chance that they were not taken as full palliation for the crimes involved. Throughout the whole disgraceful episode, Mr. Bardsley is the central figure. He is the scapegoat upon whom has been hurled the vials of public wrath, the indignation of an offended city. No language has been too severe with which to describe him and the crimes he wrought, and in the interest that has been focused upon him the public mind has overlooked many other events of importance. It is impossible to relate the incidents of the case without giving prominence to the fallen official, but his part in the transaction is small and insignifi- cant compared with the light it throws upon the moral atmos- phere of the most American of American cities. Party rivalry in America stops at no personal vituperation or distor- tion of facts, and not long ago the leading repnblican organ of Philadelphia kept prominently displayed before its readers a list of defalcating democratic officials, as if there were a direct connection between politics and crime and all criminals were democrats. Had Mr. Bardsley been the single victim of his operations his story would have been sad enough, but it acquires a new interest in the public men it has affected. He is the chief actor, the most conspicuous figure before the public; but the meaning of the play is deeper and below the surface. It is unjust to him, it is unjust to Philadelphia to treat the case as relating to him only. His fall was bad enough, it was suf- ficiently shocking that a man who had once been a shining light in a community should have departed far from the paths of Philade~phia: A Study in Atoral8. [Jan., truth and uprightness he had once so carefully traveled. His own errors relate to himself only and would have been relatively small had they affected him alone. They are much more serious when they are found, as they are, to affect a large por- tion of the people, when the best citizens gladly omit a portion of a just punishment and others see no harm in taking money that could not have been his. It is not John Bardsley that has injured Philadelphia, but her men of worth. It was not an erring city treasurer that hurt her, but the politicians and bankers who banded themselves to shield a notorious criminal, to save him from utter collapse and themselves from the anger of a long-suffering public by hiding their misdeeds in the greater crimes of one who had once been their friend and benefactor. There can be no wonder that absurd excuses should have been put forth in such a place. Philadelphia would do well to contrast her present with her past, to ask if the men of 76 would have done as those of 91 did, to compare the public spirit of a century ago with that of to-day. She should ask if it is seemly to crowd all imaginable crimes upon the shoulders of one man if thereby attention be diverted from more exalted criminals. She should ponder these things, and ponder them thoughtfully. The record of Philadelphias past greatness is untarnished. She stood then as a brilliant beacon guiding the hearts and hands of a mighty host. IMore than once since she has shown the world the patriotism and purity of her citizens. Her title as the most American of American cities has been hers not wrong- fully. She has been the stronghold of the most progressive political party in the Union. By right of tradition and good works she stood among American cities without a peer. Now all is changed. Her boasted public morality has been swept away by the actions of a single man. Her most cherished citizens have been put to a crucial test and found wanting. In the greed for gain, undreamed-of crimes have been com- mitted and a foul depravity exhibited where once all had been purity and brightness. The sins of Philadelphia have found her out. She that had once prided herself on her unspotted reputation has been shown to be no better than her rivals. In the rewalsion of feeling which naturally follows 1892.] Philade~phia: A & udy in Morals. 61 such a discovery it may be unjust to condemn the city, which has held the most exalted rank among American cities, to the lowest place, but her fall has been great, and has carried with it great part of the fabric of American patriotism and moral- ity. If goodness has departed from Philadelphia, the inquirer may well be disturbed to know where to find it throughout the length and breadth of the great western land. It has sometimes been affirmed that there is no public con~ science in America. Certainly it sometimes exhibits itself under the strangest forms and in the most unexpected manner; but the latest contribution of Philadelphia to American morality is most disheartening. It is not that one man has proven himself false, but an entire community. It is not one crime but many. It is not something that has been done in private, but in the full glare of the modern world, with its innumerable searching accompaniments of the telegraph and the public press. It was not done in a locality of depraved moral sense, but consum- mated in the very stronghold of uprightness and probity. It was not done by men of low tastes, by hardened criminals, but by men of education and culture. Were they unused to crime? Was this their first fall? Have they done nothing else wrong? It is impossible to pursue the idea further. The fall of Phila- delphia has been great enough without adding fresh torture to her citizens by suggesting additional wrong-doing. The descent of Philadelphia from its lofty place has been a national calamity to America, and is one that well deserves the sympathy of the world. A departure from the path of truth by any person is a misfortune, and when an entire society is shown to be as foul within as it was once apparently pure without, it becomes a world-wide misfortune, and is doubly so when the community has been a source of light, the observed of all observers, the guardian of some of the most sacred relics of the human race. Had the events which recently transpired in Philadelphia taken place in some remote city of the Chinese empire, their influence upon the world at large would have been most insignificant. The city at the junction of the Delaware and Schuylkill rivers occupies too conspicuous a position for any public event in it to pass unheeded. The whole world knows of her misfortune, but it has been the part that Mr. 62 Phi1ctde~phict: A Study in iJIorcd8. [Jan., Bardsley has taken in it that has been most industriously cir- culated. The pride of its citizens is still great enough to seek to hide the universal depravity in which the Bardsley case is but an episode. It is natural that this should be so, but it is nevertheless grossly immoral. At present it would seem that only on two grounds can Philadelphia be rehabilitated and again lifted to her once conspicuous position: (1) That it be no longer wrong to excuse crime because one has once associated with the criminal, and (2) that it is no longer wicked to tell lies. When the evolution of public morality has advanced to these points, then can Philadelphia once more become a shining light to the youth of the new world, and to the men of the old. Then in truth, shall we have a new morality and a new Philadelphia, when the traditions of the old are forgotten and its work lost in the abyss to which it has sunk. 1892.1 Some Letter8 of the Younger Pliny. 63 ARTICLE VI.SOME LETTERS OF THE YOUNGER PLINY. IT is rather curious that nowadays when so much interest is shown in the correspondence of eminent men and women, few except Latinists should seem to know or value the letters of the Younger Pliny. Perhaps there are reasons enough for this. The letters are old, not new, and Latin, not French or Germantwo facts that are oftentimes regarded as sufficient to destroy all interest or value. Furthermore they cannot truly be called hitherto unpublished. In spite of these awful facts, one who is at all interested in the private correspondence of an illustrious man, cannot fail to find great pleasure and profit in the charming egotism, the naive self-complacency, and the admirable pen pictures of the most brilliant lawyer and litterateur, excepting Tacitus, of the Flavian period. No- where else can we find such a vivid description of the daily life of a wealthy and cultured gentleman under the Empire. Pliny represented that type of IRoman who seems to have approached most closely to the modern traveled and cultured club man of New York or London, though there are those great differences which must of necessity exist between the exponents of two systems of civilization so widely separated in time and underlying principles. In the nine books of Plinys private correspondence, we find a man thoroughly educated, very industrious in a dilettante way, lifted by nature and training above the sensuality of his fellow citizens, filled with an intense conviction of the great- ness of his own intellectual abilities, and very desirous that none of his achievements should escape the reward of immor- tality. We see him in all situations. He takes us from the banquet at a friends house to the law courts of the Basilica Julia; from a boar hunt in the Sabine hills to the inmost recesses of his villa at Laurentum, whither he has fled to escape the attention of his slaves at the festival of the Saturnalia; now he describes his generosity in founding an

1892.1 Some Letter8 of the Younger Pliny. 63 ARTICLE VI.SOME LETTERS OF THE YOUNGER PLINY. IT is rather curious that nowadays when so much interest is shown in the correspondence of eminent men and women, few except Latinists should seem to know or value the letters of the Younger Pliny. Perhaps there are reasons enough for this. The letters are old, not new, and Latin, not French or Germantwo facts that are oftentimes regarded as sufficient to destroy all interest or value. Furthermore they cannot truly be called hitherto unpublished. In spite of these awful facts, one who is at all interested in the private correspondence of an illustrious man, cannot fail to find great pleasure and profit in the charming egotism, the naive self-complacency, and the admirable pen pictures of the most brilliant lawyer and litterateur, excepting Tacitus, of the Flavian period. No- where else can we find such a vivid description of the daily life of a wealthy and cultured gentleman under the Empire. Pliny represented that type of IRoman who seems to have approached most closely to the modern traveled and cultured club man of New York or London, though there are those great differences which must of necessity exist between the exponents of two systems of civilization so widely separated in time and underlying principles. In the nine books of Plinys private correspondence, we find a man thoroughly educated, very industrious in a dilettante way, lifted by nature and training above the sensuality of his fellow citizens, filled with an intense conviction of the great- ness of his own intellectual abilities, and very desirous that none of his achievements should escape the reward of immor- tality. We see him in all situations. He takes us from the banquet at a friends house to the law courts of the Basilica Julia; from a boar hunt in the Sabine hills to the inmost recesses of his villa at Laurentum, whither he has fled to escape the attention of his slaves at the festival of the Saturnalia; now he describes his generosity in founding an 64 Some Letters of the Younger Pliny. [Jan., orphan asylum at Como, and now pronounces a panegyric on some noble Roman of the old stamp who wearying of the slavery and sycophancy of imperial times, has taken his own life and fled to join the more congenial company of Brutus, Cicero and Cato. In short there is hardly a point in the public or domestic life of a man who has passed successively through all the grades of public office and honor in the Eternal City, which is not touched and brought vividly before us by the hand of this adept in letter writing. A master of the pwrum et pressum~ genus of writing, his letters serve all- the purpose of a polite letter writer, though this fact does not detract from their exceeding interest. Throngh them all, however, runs this most striking charac- teristic, an amiable and delightful self-conceit, which though always evident is never offensive, and therefore in sharp con- trast with that of Plinys constant model and object of emula- tion, Romes greatest orator. Simcox says of Pliny: One must accept that it is always his intention to flatter himself or his correspondent or both; that every feeling has to be reduced to the limit, within which one can be proud of it before it is expressed. When he does a kindness he never asks to be thanked; he only boasts to some one else of his delicate and reticent generosity. If we draw our impressions from extant Roman literature, the conclusion is well nigh nuavoidable that the ideas then current concerning the limits to be set to self.praise and self- exaltation were very different from those of our own time. No statesman of our day could, month after month and year after year, ring the changes on his own great services to the commonwealth, and the obligation his fellow citizens owed him, without becoming the laughing stock of all, and being treated as a public nuisance, but it does not appear that Cicero suffered much diminution of respect though he pursued just that course. So no one seems to have taken it amiss that Pliny should compare his speech in behalf of Accia Viriola to IDemosthenes Oration on the Crown, and he offended no canon of good taste in requesting Tacitus to be careful not to fail to mention one of his clever repartees in his (Tacitus) history. In this repartee, Pliny thought there lay a sentiment dangerous to 1892.1 Some letters of the Younger Pliny. 65 himself because reflecting on the Emperor, and therefore he tells quite carefnlly how mnch praise and admiration so bold an utterance won for him from all quarters. But to pass from generalities to particulars, let us read a few of his characteristic letters, and try to catch the genial spirit of the courtly Roman, as it comes down to us through centuries of manuscripts and musty folios. We must bear in mind from the outset that this collection of letters was made for publication, and therefore carefully revised and edited. Pliny admits this in the very first letter addressed to his friend Septicius, and the gently veiled allusions of this preface indi- cate plainly enough the feeling of the writer, He says: You have often advised me to collect and publish my letters, in case I have written any with somewhat more care than usual. This collection I have made, preserving no order of time, for I was not writing a history, but as each came into my hands. It remains that you may neither be sorry for your advice, nor I for my obedience. For (if all is well received) the result will be that I shall look up those which as yet lie neglected, and shall not suppress those which I may hereafter add. This preface does not go beyond the bounds of modern literary modesty, but it is perfectly evident that Pliny feels no particle of the doubt which he expresses. And now as we turn the page, our eyes fall on the third letter, and our atten- tion is immediately attracted to some peculiarities of Roman life and thought. Pliny writes to his friend Rufus upon the delights of life at his villa at Como during the vacation. The IRomans never did love residence in the city except, as we say, in the season, and none have ever appreciated more keenly the pleasures of nature and country life. To the literary Ro- man, departure from Rome, at the closing of the courts, meant not laziness, but an eager devotion to literature and composi- tion. To Pliny studia and secessus were almost synonymous. In fact the Latin otiosus at leisure, was so far from meaning idle, that we find recorded a famous 6on mot of Atilius, satius est... otiosum esse quam nihil agere, it is better to be at leisure than to do nothing.To return to this third letter: How is it at Como, your delight and mine? How is it with that most agreeable out-of-town resort? With that portico always green? With that plane tree shading so densely? With the green-banked voL. xx. 5 66 Some Letters of the Younger Pliny. [Jan., and sparkling Euripus, that lies just below the villa and serves its needs? With that walk, both soft and solid? That bath filled and traversed by most abundant sunlight? How is it with those common eating couches, those that accommodate but few? And the chambers for day and night? Do they hold you and by turns possess you, or, as you were wont, are you called away by frequent excursions from your purpose to engage in domestic affairs? If these estates now have you, happy and blessed are you; if not, you are but one of many. Yet why do you not (for it is high time) leave to others low and trifling cares, and devote yourself in that deep and rich retreat to literary pur- suits? Let this be your business, this your leisure, your work, your rest; let your mind dwell upon this, waking or sleeping. Produce something, and strike out (as from a rock) that which shall be perpet- ually yours. For the rest of your possessions will after you find a second and third owner; this will never, from its very inception, cease to be your own. I know what a mind and disposition I am urging on. Only strive to be worth as much to yourself, as you will seem to be to others, if you have been so to yourself. Farewell. The last lines contain much of Plinys philosophy of com- mon life, that a man must set his own standard of worth, and that in general a man will be taken at his own valuation. Those moralists of every age who are so fond of decrying ambition, can find small comfort or sympathy in these letters, for Pliny does not care to conceal his desire for fame, and his belief that the main good of life consists in winning a repnta- tion which is deserved. His estimate of his own position is plainly seen in many passages. Cicero was his model, and it was clearly his ambition to hold in his own day a rank among men of letters similar to that of the great orator. IN ay, more, Pliny seems to consider himself as worthy in other respects to be ranked with Cicero. Note this in a letter to his friend Arrianns, and the mock modesty which is perfectly apparent. Pliny has just been appointed an augnr, and in answering a letter of congratulation, says: You write that my appointment as augur pleases you, especially be- cause M. Tullius was an augur. For you rejoice that I press close upon the honors of him whom I desire to rival in literary work. Would that I, as I have held the same priesthood and the consulship even at an earlier age than he, might when old, in the same way, in some meas- ure attain unto his genius. But truly the former things which are in the hands of men have fallen to the lot of me and many,this latter boon, as it is hard to obtain, so it is too much to hope for. None but the gods can grant it. 1892.] Some Letters of t,4e Younger PUny. 67 No self-respecting friend could be expected to neglect so plain a hint, and we may be snre that Arrianus next letter contained the cheerful assnrance that at least a double portion of Ciceros spirit had fallen on Pliny. Mention has already been made of Plinys reqnest to Tacitus to be carefnl to insert a fnll notice of his deeds in the history. IRead what he writes: I prophesy and my prophecy fails not, that your history will be immortal. So much the more, I frankly confess, do I desire to be men- tioned therein. For if we take care to have our likeness made by the most skillful artist, ought we not to desire that our deeds may secure a historian and commentator like yourself? . . . These deeds of mine, of whatever sort they are, you will make better known, more illustrious, greater. However, I do not ask that you exaggerate what I have done. For history ought not to go beyond the truth, and the truth is enough for honorable deeds. Note how skillfnlly flattery is interwoven in every line, and how Pliny actually plumes himself on his virtue in not asking Tacitus to pass over the boundaries of strict veracity in narrat- ing his exploits! And yet there is nothing to show that this sort of thing struck any one of Plinys contemporaries as being in the slightest degree unusual or in poor taste. If we linger, however, to look up all the instances of Plinys conceit, we shall need to translate nine books of correspondence. Pleasanter and more interesting is it, to read the mans descrip- tion of life at his Tnscan villa, and to compare it with our own vacation hours at the seashore or in the woods. Fuscus asked Pliny to tell him what he did dnring the vacation when the law conrts were closed and Rome abandoned, or at least people lived in the back rooms. The answer came: You ask me how I pass my days in summer at my Tuscan villa. I awake when I please, generally about seven oclock, often earlier, rarely later. The windows are left closed, for I am wonderfully secluded by silence and darkness from those things that distract the thoughts, and being left free and to myself, I do not follow my eyes with my mind but my mind with my eyes which see the same things as the mind whenever they do not see anything else. I think, if I have any work on hand. I think, like one who carefully writes or revises, now less now more, according as I can compose and hold in mind with ease or difficulty. I call my secretary and admitting the light, I dictate what I have composed. He goes out, is again called back, and then 68 Some letters of the Younger Pliny. [Jan., again dismissed. At ten or eleven oclock, for my time is not exactly measured,according to the weather, I betake myself to the terrace or portico. I think over something more and dictate it. Then I get into my carriage, and there too occupy myself in the same way as when walking or lying down. My mental application continues, refreshed hy the change itself. I take a short nap, then a walk, and soon after read aloud a Greek or Latin oration in a clear and vigorous way, not so much for the sake of my voice as for my stomach, though the former is also strengthened. Then I take another walk, anoint myself, exercise and bathe. At dinner, in case my wife or a few friends are present, a hook is read. After dinner a comedian or lute player entertains us. Then I stroll about with my friends, among whom there are some learned men. The evening is prolonged with conversation on various subjects, and even the longest day comes quickly to a close. Some- times there is a slight variation in this routine. For if I have lain down a long time, or taken a long walk, after my nap and the reading, I do not drive but ride, which takes less time because one goes faster. Friends come in from neighboring towns, and use up a part of the day, and sometimes, when I am tired, they really do me good by an oppor- tune interruption. Now and then I go off on a hunt, but never without my writing tablets, so that, though I take nothing, Ii may bring back something. To the village people I give some time, but not enough as they think, and their rustic quarrels enhance the value of these lite- rary pursuits of ours and the business of the city. Farewell. It is plain that for Pliny the most agreeable thing about his vacation and country home, was the comparative freedom from interruption and the chance it gave him to study. The Romans must have spent their holidays in many different ways, just as we do now, but on the whole, the advantage on the side of simplicity and industry seems to have been with them. The frequent alternations of sleeping and walking, and the apparent affectation of industry in having a book read at dinner, strike us as somewhat curious, but there is much to be said in favor of the latter custom. We substitute a newspaper at breakfast for the book at dinner. What most of us would object to in Plinys method, is the exactness of his daily routine. Such routine in ones regular every day life can not be too highly praised, but for our vacations, a little relief is necessary. There is another letter that gives us a clear view of Plinys deep affection for the retired country life, and marks the con- trast in his mind between the wearisome social and professional duties of the city and the peace of the country. It is in this letter that he quotes the hon mot of Atilius mentioned above. 1892.1 Some Letters of the Youn~jer Pliny. 69 It is extremely difficult to reproduce the true spirit of the Latiu in a translation, but the thought can at least be outlined. Pliny writes to Fundanus It is wonderful how on each day in the city, our accounts either balance or seem to balance, but for several days taken together, the account does not balance. For if you ask anyone, What have you done to day? he will answer, I was present at the ceremonies attend- ing the coming of age of a youth; I was at a wedding or betrothal; this friend asked me to sign his will; another to back him in a law- suit; another called me to a family council. These things seem neces- sary on the day when you do them, but utterly unprofitable when you consider that you have done them every day,the more so when you have left the city. For then this remembrance comes home to one, How many days I have consumed in thoroughly useless pursuits! This is the thought that comes to me when in my Laurentine villa I have been reading or writing or have even rested my physical being, for by its support is the mind sustained. Here (in my Laurentine villa) I hear nothing and say nothing that I am sorry to have heard or said. Here no one is carping at some one else with malevolent words; I reprove nobody except myself when I write poorly; no hope, no fear disturbs me, and no rumors disquiet me: I talk only with myself and with my books. 0 real and righteous life! 0 leisure sweet and honorable and almost more worthy of admiration than all business! 0 sea, 0 shore, true and secret haunt of the Muses! How much do you unfold and dic- tate to me! Do you too, Fundanus, leave that whirl of excitement and mad bustle of the city and that fruitless toil at the very first oppor- tunity, and give yourself to literature and leisure. For as our Atilius said most learnedly and wittily, It is better to be at leisure than to do nothing. Farewell. The allusion to accounts means that when one makes up at night the account of what has happened during the day, that account balances, because he seems to have had a valid reason and excuse for everything that he has done. How true a picture Pliny presents in these few lines of the countless calls made upon a man in the midst of the busy life of a great city, and how earnestly we can all sympathize with him in his lamen- tation at the days spent in mania! Days when in spite of our best intentions absolutely nothing has been accomplished, and there has indeed been much running to and fro with no corresponding increase in knowledge! One of the best traits of Plinys character was his horror of unkind gossip and of speaking ill of people behind their backs. So one of the delights of the country is the absence of that Some Letters of the Youn6ler Pliny. [Jan., unpleasantness. Of course Pliny has no hesitation in express- ing his opinion of people at the proper time and place, and no one castigates more severely the faults of his age. Then as always, the foibles and meannesses of the nouveaux riches were a trial and vexation of spirit to men of culture, and were held up to general ridicule. One letter of Plinys describes the meanness of a parvenu who had invited him to dinner It would be a long story and there is no use in explaning how it happened that I, though so slight an acquaintance, dined at the house of a certain man who in his own estimation was polite and tasteful, but in mine mean and showy. He set before himself and a few of us the best of dishes, but before the rest what was cheap and meagre. He had divided three kinds of wine in very small bottles, not that there might be an opportunity to choose, but no opportunity to refuse. One kind was placed before himself and us, another before his lesser friends (for lie ranks even his friends), and the third before his and our freedmen. The guest who reclined next me observing this, asked me if I approved of it. I said I did not. What custom do you follow? said he. I set the same before all. For I invite guests to dine and not to be branded, and I make equal in all respect those whom I have made equal by table and couch. Even your freedmen? said he. Certainly. For I con- sider them as guests then and not as freedmen. Then said he, It must cost you a good deal. Not at all. How is that? Because my freedmen do not drink what I do, but I drink what they do. And surely if you restrain your appetite, it is not a great expense to share with many what you yourself use. That indulgence then ought to be repressed and reduced to subjection if you want to be economical, and this economy will be better practiced by your own self-denial than by insulting others. Why do I write thus? That the luxury of some mens tables may not impose upon you, 0 excellent youth, by an ap- pearance of ecomony. Remember that nothing is more to be avoided than that combination of luxury and meanness. For these character- istics which are most base when separate and kept apart, are yet more disgusting when united. Farewell. There is excellent sentiment in this letter, but one can hardly help feeling that the whole story is introduced to give our self- complacent egotist a chance to compare his own virtuous methods with the meanness of others. Such inferences ought not to be carried too far, and perhaps this is unjust here, but to us, at least,it seems more than probable. Here is a bit describing a dinner of Plinys to which lie had invited a friend who failed to appear. If this friend had any idea of what was coming and was blessed with a good appetite, we do not wonder at his going elsewhere. 1892.] 8ome Letters of the Younger Pliny. 71 You promised to come to dinner and did not? Sentence shall be pronounced. You must pay the cost of the dinner to the last cent, and and it was not small either. I had ordered for each plate a head of lettuce, three snails, two eggs, grits with mead cooled with snow (for you must count in this snow, and especially pay for what melted on the tray), olives, beet roots, gourds, onions, and a thousand other delicacies no less fine. You would have listened to a comedian, or reader or lyre player, or perhaps all of them, my liberality is so great. But you have preferred oysters, shell fish, sea-urchins and Spanish dancing girls at some other mans table. Pliny then goes on to tell how much enjoyment they would have had at his modest dinner, but we cannot help applauding the wise choice of his friend. In another letter we find Pliny expressing wonder and disgust at the somewhat boyish per- formance of a well known Roman lawyer. He tells the story thus: Passennus Paullus, a well known and learned Roman, writes elegiac verses. This runs in the family, for he is of the same town as Proper- tius, and counts Propertius among his ancestors. One day when he began to read one of his poems to a company of friends, a poem com- mencing 0 Priscus, do you order? Javolenus Priscus who was in the company called out,No, I do not order. This cast a chill over the reading, and poor Pliny who evi- dently made a specialty of these private readings, was greatly scandalized. From all that we know of these readings, even from Plinys own words, it is evident that most men considered them a great bore, and we may be sure that Priscus, who out of friendship had felt himself obliged to attend this particular one, and had settled himself for a long hours ennui, could not resist the temptation to get at least one laugh out of the per- formance. This leads us to quote one more letter in which Pliny admit- ting that men had grown wofully tired of being bored by listening to the mediocre productions of their friends, still assumes for himself great credit because he never failed to be present on such occasions, and reproaches all those who had not his powers of endurance. We cannot but suspect that Pliny did his part in reading too, and in supporting this genu- ine mutual toleration society. He says This year has produced a great crop of poets, and there has hardly been a day in the month of April on which some one has not given a 72 Some Letters of the Younger Pliny. [Jan., reading. I am greatly pleased that literary pursuits are flourishing, and that mens intellectual abilities are brought to view, although peo- ple are very slow to attend the readings. Many sit outside and use up the time of the reading in telling stories, and then suddenly have word brought them whether the reader has already come in, or has finished his introduction or is nearly through with his reading. Then they come in slowly. . . . and do not stay but slip out before the end openly or stealthily. . . . But so much the more are they to be praised who are deterred from their zeal in writing and reading neither by the sloth nor the pride of their hearers. I indeed have not failed to be present on a single occasion. Plinys perseverance was worthy of a better cause, but he had his reward and seems to have been satisfied with it. These letters are but bits and specimens of the rich and varied correspondence which deserves a better fate than that of being relegated to the sole attention of college classes and the philologists criticisms. No one will regret a few summer afternoons spent in the ~oeiety of the politicians and witg of Imperial Rome. Adelbert College. SAMUEL BALL PLATNER. 1892.] Criminology. 73 ARTICLE 1/11.CRIMINOLOGY. CRIMINOLOGY is a branch of sociology; and treats of those actions, thonghts, and feelings which are especially dangerous, either to the individual or society. Drill says that crime is a sensible measure of the degree of health, strength, and prosper- ity of a given society, in a given moment of its existence. The social organism suffers from disease, jnst as the individual. Thus there is a pathological sociology, which considers the morbid states of society, and the anomalies opposed to nature, and shows their coexistence, and the derivation of one from the other. Criminology proper may be divided into general, special, and practical. General criminology consists in a summary and synthesis of all the facts known. Special criminology con- cerns the investigation of individual cases, physically, psychi- cally, and historically considered. Here, perhaps, is the most promising field for the advancement of criminology as a science. The practical side, which includes all methods and institutions for the prevention or repression of crime, is the most familiar to the public. But the study of criminology, like the study of medicine, should be carried on by scientific methods. That is to say, all the conditions, occasions, and causes of crime must be investigated first, if the treatment is to be a rational one. Sound pathology, sound medicine, is as true as it is familiar. A practical advantage in the study of criminals is, that they being in prison, questions can be asked, and investigations permitted that would be very difficult outside of prison. The exact conditions, such as diet, regularity in manner of living, etc., being known make it more favorable for scientific in- quiry. And since the criminal is living on the bounty of the State, there is no valid reason why he cannot be utilized (pro- vided always, that it is in a humane way); for the very object of such investigation is ultimately to benefit the State by lessen- ing crime. The method is, by a thorough diagnosis, to trace

1892.] Criminology. 73 ARTICLE 1/11.CRIMINOLOGY. CRIMINOLOGY is a branch of sociology; and treats of those actions, thonghts, and feelings which are especially dangerous, either to the individual or society. Drill says that crime is a sensible measure of the degree of health, strength, and prosper- ity of a given society, in a given moment of its existence. The social organism suffers from disease, jnst as the individual. Thus there is a pathological sociology, which considers the morbid states of society, and the anomalies opposed to nature, and shows their coexistence, and the derivation of one from the other. Criminology proper may be divided into general, special, and practical. General criminology consists in a summary and synthesis of all the facts known. Special criminology con- cerns the investigation of individual cases, physically, psychi- cally, and historically considered. Here, perhaps, is the most promising field for the advancement of criminology as a science. The practical side, which includes all methods and institutions for the prevention or repression of crime, is the most familiar to the public. But the study of criminology, like the study of medicine, should be carried on by scientific methods. That is to say, all the conditions, occasions, and causes of crime must be investigated first, if the treatment is to be a rational one. Sound pathology, sound medicine, is as true as it is familiar. A practical advantage in the study of criminals is, that they being in prison, questions can be asked, and investigations permitted that would be very difficult outside of prison. The exact conditions, such as diet, regularity in manner of living, etc., being known make it more favorable for scientific in- quiry. And since the criminal is living on the bounty of the State, there is no valid reason why he cannot be utilized (pro- vided always, that it is in a humane way); for the very object of such investigation is ultimately to benefit the State by lessen- ing crime. The method is, by a thorough diagnosis, to trace 74 Criminology. [Jan., out the underlying and constant causes of crime, and thus be enabled to apply direct means towards its prevention and re- pression. The stndy of the criminal can also be the study of a normal man; for most criminals are so by occasion or acci- dent and differ in no essential respect from other men. Thus an individual, becoming excited in discussion, or under the influence of liquor, or on account of an insult, may, on the spur of the moment, strike the offender with the nearest object in his reach: if it is a hammer, he becomes a criminal; if it is a book, he is not a criminal. But even where the individual is criminal by nature, it is generally his moral and not his intellectual side that is abnor- mal; so that methods found to be successful in mental educa- tion will be applicable outside of prison; and vice ver8a, any experiment that fails in prison may save the community from making a similar mistake. Thus the prison or reformatory may also serve as a laboratory for experiments on humanity for the good of humanity itself. The pressing need of the present is a system of education that will prepare the average young person for actual life. Such a system will not be found by arguments or theories, but must come from experiments. Any prison method that might be found successful for the moral, intellectual, and industrial training of the weak in life, would a fortiori be applicable to society at large. Without dwelling further upon the advantages from the study of the criminal, we will venture to give in brief some idea of the recent results of such study. BRAIN. That an atypical and defective brain can function normally is out of the question, says Benedikt.* From a detailed exam- ination of nineteen criminals brains of five different races, Benedikt believed that he had established a type of the con- fluence of fissures. But subsequent investigations by others do not confirm these results. Tenchini,t after the study of thirty- two brains from the prison of Parma, finds that cerebral anom- alies are more frequent and varied than in normal men. But * Anatomisehe Studien an Verbrecher-Gehirnen, etc. Wien, 1879. + Cervelli di Delinquenti, etc. Parma, 1885. 1892.] Crim~inology. 75 in general, little is as yet known, owing to the comparatively few brains of criminals studied. CRANIUM. Investigations have been pursned much further in regard to the cranium. iDr. Corre, of France, a careful student of criminals, finds the following peculiarities: 1. A frequent persistence of the frontal median suture. 2. A partial effacement of the parietal or parieto-occipital sutures in a large number of criminals. 3. A. frequency of the Wormian bones in the regions of the median and lateral posterior fontanelles. 4. The development of the superciliary ridges, with the de- facement, or even frequent depression of the intermediary pro- tuberance. These are, in general, signs of degeneration. Many of the cranial characteristics arise from a premature growing together of the sutures. No definite conclusions can be drawn from cranial asymmetries to psychical characteristics, except that they indicate a tendency to degeneration of mind. According to Lombroso, the criminal by nature has a feeble cranial capacity, a heavy and developed jaw, large orbits, projecting superciliary ridges, an abnormal and asymmetrical cranium, projecting ears and frequently a crooked or flat nose. This criminal type, it is claimed, is as well established as the Italian type. IN ot a single characteristic constantly distinguishes this type, but the pro- portion of congenital anomalies is larger in any given number of criminals than in an equal number of non-criminals. Other physical characteristics of criminals are left-handedness and a feeble muscular bone. They are subject to Daltonism, have a tendency towards alcoholic and epileptical degeneration. There is sometimes the microcephalic head, the sugar-loafed head: there is asymmetry of the orbits, where also the under- jaw projects beyond the upper, or vice versa; also the binding of both rows of teeth; the gurus are often too flat, wide and smalL There is a division of the iris, and sometimes a skin- duplicature in the corners of the eyes. The signs of degenera- tion in the ears are their great length or want of developed muscles, and very small laps that grow on them. Criminology. [Jan., MENTAL AND MORAL CHARACTERISTIcs. The moral degeneration of the criminal corresponds with the physical; criminal tendencies are manifested in youth by cruelty, onanism, inclination to steal, excessive vanity and an impulsive character. The criminal by nature is cowardly, lazy, and without remorse and foresight, and has a wandering ten- dency; he is fond of tatooing; many have a peculiar hand- writing and signature, the latter being complicated and adorned with flourishes. He has a widely diffused slang, full of archa- isms. He is below the average in mental ability and is often overrated. Criminals laugh much, and sleep sound. Mur- derers are often honest, but thieves never. The degree of intelligence is often indicated by the nature of the crime. Thus the forger is more intelligent than the petty thief. The highway-robber detests the thief for his lack of courage. Sociologically considered, the criminal does not recognize the rights of others; he may not oppose society openly, but in a hypocritical way; he is an opponent of altruism, excessive in the use of wine and given to gambling and debauch; is afraid of death and indifferent to religion; is cunning and what little intelligence he has, does not develop his altruism. His sensi- bility to pain is much less than in ordinary men. RE5PON5IBILITY AND DJ5PO5JTION OF THE CRIMINAL. As this is a much debated question, we will give the views of some of the specialists. Lombroso* says that, as the born criminal is without remedy, he must be continually confined and allowed no provisional liberty or mercy; the ancient tradition of vigorous initiatives should be upheld; for the more individual responsibility is diminished the more we increase the responsibility of society, which is still severer. Nature is responsible for the born crim- inal, society for the criminal by occasion. Garofalot says that the common ideas that there is no crime without moral responsibility, and that punishment should be in proportion to the gravity of the crime, are incompatible with * LHomme criminel. Paris, 1887. ~ La Criminologie. Paris, 1888. 1892.1 Criminology. 77 scientific facts. The cause of a murder and the absence of any grave injury on the part of the victim are the criterions to be substituted for premeditation; but in the case of criminals by occasion, premeditation indicates a cruel nature, and elimination by death-penalty may be necessary. Reformation of the crim- inal is the exception. Criminals by nature are not sick nor in- sane, but their perversity is natural; they are unadapted to their present surroundings, they are monsters, and present the traits of past racial regression. One class of criminals are those with arrested moral development, innate criminals. For these society has but one remedyelimination. Murder severely injures the moral sense of the community. A reaction in the form of desire of exclusion from society is produced through lack of adaptation. The only absolute means of exc]usion is death; but this applies only to criminals by nature. It is the duty of society to eliminate those who are wholly unadapted to society. Punishment is not to punish the criminal but to elim- inate him absolutely or partially. The death penalty has given England the fewest criminals in all Europe. Corre* says that criminals from sudden passion are more ex- cusable than those who commit crime nuder the influence of drunkenness from alcohol, ether, morphine or hashish; for the latter, although far less conscions of their deeds, know that these drugs expose them to such acts. The highest grade of criminals are the professional, who are knowingly and deliber- ately rebellious against society. Among the last class are the false-honest men who, by the cloak of wealth, power, position or honor, utilize society wholly for their own disordered appetites. Admitting subordination to our organization and the want of liberty, society should not punish less, as it is her only way to maintain herself; but she should keep within the strict limits of self-defense. The death penalty is a relic of barbarism; the ideal is not repression. A wise code should reprimand by bettering, not by destroying; it should diminish the intensity of the solicitations to crime, remembering that society is in a great measure the cause of crime. According to Krauss,t self-consciousness is the source of * Les criminels, charact~res physiques et psychologiques. Paris, 1889. ~ Die Psychologie des Verbrechens. Tfibingen, 1884. 78 Criminology. [Jan., morality and immorality; of the former, so long as it im- plies a clear knowledge of the moral law; of the latter, so long as it leads to self-exemption and the emancipated ego, when it becomes itself law. The degrees of moral conscionsness are the criterion of guilt and responsibility for every moral failure. Childhood represents onr nnripeness; idiocy a potential inca- pacity of moral development; old age implies a weakening of the moral power of existence, since it is accompanied with a certain dullness of self-consciousness. Moral freedom is nulli- lied by the organic coiditions of insanity or abnormal sleep, on acconnt of the formation of illusions. An irresistible force outside of pathological conditions is not recognized by an earnest administration of justice. Strictness throughout is more rational than mildness. The penitentiary is perhaps the high-school of crime; the only rational method of dispos- ing of criminals is deportation, not only because society is freed from a pest, but the criminal through new conditions is better qualified for self-reformation. The death penalty is the only form of punishment for a cold-blooded and premeditated mur- der. Forel~s* view is, that contradictions between legal ideas and legal punishments will cease as soon as punishment is for the correction of the prisoner and the protection of society, and not an expiation of the deed. Those persons known to have a lawless disposition should be taken care of before they can do injury to society. Tumates of prisons should be psychologically studied as to when, and whether, they should be given freedom, instead of holding them a certain length of time, according to the nature of the deed. The time is to come when the treat- ment of criminals will belong in part to psychiatry and in part to psychology. A normal psychical state is an adequate adap- tation of the mind of the forces in the outer world; a normal free will is nothing else than an adequate reaction of the mind crime is an inadequate reaction. Disease can appear as almost natural to the organism, merely as an individual peculiarity, an inadequateness. Thus there are no sharp lines between the inadequate character of the criminal and that of a normal man, just as there are none between bodily anomalies and health in * Zwei Kriminalpsychologesche Falle. Bern, 1889. 1892.] Criminology. 79 general. Moral training, moral safeguards and principles, are the best means for forming a habit of life that will endure. CRIMINAL HYPNOTISM. The Paris school of hypnotism maintains that persons sus- ceptible to hypnotic influence are nervous and capable of becoming hysterical, if not actually so at the beginning of the experiments; that hypnotism and hysteria are akin; that hyp- notism is a neurosis, and so not a physiological condition. The most frequent crimes are rape or attempts at rape. The expert in court ought not to go beyond the question: Can the indi- vidual be put into the hypnotic state ? While the Paris school is the defender of pathological hypno- tism, the Nancy school go still further and advocate physiolog- ical hypnotism. We are all suggestible to a certain degree; our reason can leave us; evil thoughts can enter our mind contrary to our will; these thoughts tend to become acts. Can we always resist this tendency, can crime be committed by suggestion? The Nancy school reply in the affirmative; somnambulists under the influence of suggestion, either during sleep or after waking, can execute with docility what they have been ordered to do. Among somnambulists who act post-hypnotically, there are some who do it as impulsive epileptics. Suggestion plays a r6le in many crimes; there is hypnosis without sleep, some persons are normally very suggestible, a word can produce in them analgesia, catalepsy, hallucinations, and acts; the sugges- tion can be made without their knowledge, and the suggester or hypnotizer may be unknown to them. The nihilists, anar- chists, and socialists can become criminals by suggestion. The excited crowd hearing a word, spy, traitor, become furious and bloody and rush upon the person pointed out, whether innocent or guilty. It is a collective hypuotization, a blind passion that unchains the brute nature of the masses and plunges into crime. Thus hypnotism can pass into a criminal contagion through imitation. Public executions seem to have spread this contagion. Out of one hundred and seventy-seven persons condemned to death, only three had not been present at other executions. 80 Criminology. [Jan., This contagion may take the form of a homicidal epidemic, through the suggestion of patriotic ideas, as in war, where the mnrder of fellow beings is national glory and where even relig- ion is called npon for her blessing. War is one of the worst of crimes, for it is not only deliberately premeditated, but it is the murder of society itself. It takes the best blood, while crime, as commonly understood, generally concerns the mor- ally and physically weak. As in the Paris Commune the sight of blood excites the crowd, which will go so far as even to demand innocent victims, simply to satisfy its thirst. Criminal contagion is spread by the freedom allowed the press in giving details of murders. There is the case of the Parisian woman who sawed the head of her little child off. This was dramatically described in the papers. The celebrated iDr. Esquiral was afterwards called upon by several women who confessed to him that they had had impulsions to do the same thing, and desired of him to know how they might rid themselves of such ideas or intentions. Fortunately the major- ity of mankind have power to resist criminal suggestions, but it is just those morally, physically, or nervously weak individ- uals in every community, who are affected by published details of crime, and who when tempted are often unable to resist. This power of contagion is especially well illustrated in an unusually large number of persons who recently suffocated themselves by gas in closed rooms. Since the press is coming to have more and more influence, special caution should be taken as to publishing criminal details, which do very little good, and may do much injury. PRACTICAL CRIMINOLOGY. As to the treatment of the criminal in prison as a means of reformation, we can do no better than give briefly the ideas of some of those in our own country, who have had much experience with criminals. We mention first and foremost Mr. Z. IR. Brockway, super- intendent of the Elmira Reformatory, who is justly recognized in Europe, as well as in America, as the most successful in the actual reformation of the criminal. The indeterminate sentence is the pivot of criminal reform. 1892.] Criminology. 81 Its true idea includes all classes of prisoners in custody, with- out auy maximum or minimum term of seutence. Thus applied, it includes couditional release aud the marking sys- tem, which are inseparable. The indeterminate sentence sub- stitutes in the mind of the prisoner and in the public mind which is more importantthe idea of correction instead of punishment. This does not abolish penal treatment; prison discipline is rather intensified. It gives a great advantage in treating misdemeanants. Thus a man might be held for life for being a drunkard merely. It fastens the duty of determin- ing the date of the prisoners parole or release upon the warden, who should know his prisoners individually, and who is the best man to determine when it is safe to release a pris- oner. On the old system there is an inevitable antagonism between keeper and convict, but with the indeterminate sen- tence, the prisoner desires to convince the warden that he is fit to go out, and may resort to crookedness; but he eventually realizes that he has wasted his time. At this point reforma- tion begins, and the next step will be an honest effort to get out in the way the warden marks out for him. It facilitates the release of the prisoner at the best time, when he has worked steadily for months, and honestly earned his promo- tion and is hopeful and encouraged. After his release, he is surrounded with the strength of legal liability. This is of great benefit to habitual incorrigibles and indispensible to accidental criminals. The indeterminate sentence is necessary to an effective reformatory sytem, for it gives the strongest and almost the only true motive that influences a man to behave properly, to cultivate and to prepare himself for free life. On his leaving, a position is found for the prisoner. The employer knows all about him. The prisoner must correspond with the warden each month, certificates being sent by his em- ployer. At the end of six months, if he is all right, he goes scot free If he breaks his parole, he is brought in again. The released all obtain positions. Scientific reformation is based on physical cultnre and labor in a way that approaches as near as possible the natural relation of labor outside of prisons. The prisoner has what he earns and pays for what voL. xx. 6 82 Criminology. [Jan., he gets, supplemented by a complete course of scholastic edu- cation. At least 60 per cent. of men between 15 and 30, are reformed. Rev. Frederick II. Wines says that this system of condi- tional liberation introduces new life into the prison; it causes officers to make individual study of prisoners; it enables the prisoner to support his family, it gives him every chance to do better, it is the most thorough test of prison discipiine. A man is not sent into the world without any test. Industry, study, and good conduct are the sole conditions of release. The determinate sentence gives freedom to dangerous men and often causes unjust penalties. The indeterminate sentence is the only rational one. The difficulty in its application is no greater than in the case of releasing the insane. Another practical question in criminology is the financial one. According to F. II. Wines, censor for criminal statistics in 1880, there were nearly 60,000 prisoners in the United States, and 11,000 inmates of juvenile reformatories. It is estimated by the same authority, that the cost of maintaining our prisoners is fifteen millions yearly, but that this is a small part of the cost of defending property and life; another fifteen million must be added for keeping up the police department. Then there is the ponderous and expensive system of courts, the cost of which, with officers, eInployees, detectives, etc., is enormous for criminal matters alone. Moreover, the cost of the property stolen cannot be reckoned. The reports of the state prisons show one-third more convictions for high crime in proportion to the population, than there were twenty years ago. We may add to this, the moral effect on the community, through the familiarizing and consequent hardening of the public conscience by the perusal of criminal details. But there is a nervous effect, which is not insignificant. The num- ber of persons in every community that are, for instance, con- tinually in fear of burglaries, is not inconsiderable. General nervousness (especially in women), lack of sleep, easy awaken- ing, seeing if all windows are fastened, placing chairs and the like against the doors, etc., etc., are not uncommon phenom- ena. Why should the public, who pay for the treatment of 1892.] Criminology. 83 criminals when confined, and still more when they are not confined, continue to graduate these ex-convicts almost daily into the ranks of citizens? Why permit all this, when at the same time every intelligent prison warden and any judge who has given attention to criminal matters, feels beforehand morally certain, that many prisoners, who are legally released, will go and plunder the community (possibly taking life) and be returned to commence the same circle again, saying in the words of Reinach, as they go and return, not d dieu, but an revoir Y The convict is a parasite, but the ex-convict is a rov- ing parasite. The location of his crime not infrequently depends upon the quality of the food and general comforts of the neigh- boring prison. The State releases the convict, he plunders the State, the State pays detectives to catch him, he hires his lawyer and the State pays the costs, and if convicted, the State pays his living expenses. As to the comforts of the prisoner, we do not overlook the fact, that good food and air (the latter being more difficult to obtain), with bathing and with reasonable comforts, are a great aid towards the reformation of the criminal. Yet they should not be pushed so far as to make the prison a desirable, or at least a very convenient place to live in. It is true, that an intelligent and experienced warden, with a well-constructed, airy, clean and comfortable prison and a liberal diet, will be enabled better to reform his prisoners than if those things were lacking. It is also true, that with extras, if you please, luxuries and special privileges, a warden can, by their judicious employment as means of reward for good conduct, justify their existence within prison walls. PRIsON DISCIPLINE. It is almost a truism of prison discipline, that the condi- tions inside should approach those outside as near as possible, so that on the prisoners release, the change may not be so sudden as to precipitate his early fall. He probably became an evil-doer gradually, and if he becomes a good citizen, the change must be as gradual. The importance of the applica- tion of the individual method in prison discipline, is evident here. It seems rational that one in charge of a penal or 84 Criminolo~y. [Jan., reformatory institution should know at least the important details as to the character and life of every individual under his charge; the practical value (not to mention the scientific valne) is obvious. This applies as well to all the under-officers, who are much more in contact with the men. We say, it seems rational, if the men are to have intelligent and proper treatment. But, as a matter of fact, in almost all our institu- tions, if not all, ignorance of such details is the rule among those in charge, and this ignorance seems to be the most intense among those who are in closest relation with the inmates, the very ones whom such knowledge might assist the most. The real trouble, as in other institutions, is the want of thor- oughly trained men. It is as true of a prison as of a univer- sity, that buildings do not make it, but men. The public, however, are unwilling to pay for trained men. Even the wardenship of a prison is not regarded as a very high political office, nor are intellectual qualifications a conspicuous requisi- tion. The regular dnties of a warden (not to mention his political ones), leave him little time and less energy to make an individual study of his prisoners, and too many of the under-officers are incapable from lack of education or intelli- gence, or both. Many of the criminals are more intelligent than those over them. The psychological effect is apparent. Given ten of the most disorderly men in a prison, and one of the lowest paid officers (as is too often the case), to take charge of them, the result is likewise evident. Having considered the point of view from within the prison, we may briefly take up the point of view of the citizen out- side, who is of much more valne than the criminal. The value of the criminal is very small in comparison, but it is infinitesi- mally so, when the whole community are considered. In a sense, the criminal is important, simply because the commun- ity makes him so. Just as a flaw in one little part of a mechanism can throw the whole into disorder, so the criminal is important, since by his crime he can throw the whole commun- ity into excitement. Why, then, should he have so comfort- able quarters and many privileges at the expense of the commun- ity? Simply, because it is more economical for the community (not to mention higher moral and religious reasons), to treat 1892.] Criminology. 85 him well, than otherwise. History records the results of the vengeance-theory, and shows at least its uselessness. Admitting then the necessity and rationality of treating the criminal well, it is a fair question, from the point of view of society: If the State sees to it, that every individual who is weak and criminal, shall have wholesome food, good air and ordinary comforts; why should the State not see to it also that every individual who is weak, but honest, and not a criminal, have at least the necessities of life and comfortB equal to those of the criminal. ARTHUR MACDONALD, voL. xx. 7 86 Current Literature. [Jan., CURRENT LITERATURE. DE LA SAUssAYEs MANUAL 01 THE SCIENCE OF RELIGION. For a great many reasons, there is at present much interest felt in the study of Comparative Religion. The ethnic religions are far better known to us than they ever were before, through the close intercourse of all parts of the world with one another. There is a lively zeal in the investigation of the religions of savage races. Historical and philological study has opened, and is daily opening more and more, the faiths of Antiquity to our knowledge. Inquiries and speculations connected with the doctrine of Evolu- tion in its varying forms and phases, serve to stimulate curiosity respecting the origins of religious beliefs and rites, and their mutations. Believers and disbelievers in Christianity are equally interested in exploring the creeds and ceremonies of the non- Christian portion of mankind. There is on all sides a readiness to hear what the teachers of the different branches of mankind have had to say on the most interesting and momentous of all themes. In the treatment of this subject of Comparative Religion, there will be, of course, a wide diversity according as the student, or the writer, does or does not start with a recognition of Chris- tianity as the Absolute Religion. Where there is faith in Chris- tianity as a system having, in a special and extraordinary sense, God for its author, and therefore, trustworthy and authoritative, Christianity will be made the touchstone for distinguishing truth from error in the wild-growing religions,to quote Schellings well-known phrase. Where, on the other hand, this peculiar character is not admitted to belong to Christianity, and when it is looked upon, as on a level as to its origin, and authority, and perfection, with other religions, the practical handling of the subject of Comparative Religion will correspond to this ante- cedent theory. It is vain to attempt to discuss with any thoroughness questions of this nature without an antecedent *3jfanual of the Science of Religion. By P. D. CHANTEPW The LA SAUSSAY~, Pro- fessor of Theology at Amsterdam. Translated from the German, by Beatrice S. Colyer-Fergurson (N6e Max Muller). London and New York: Longmans, Green & Co. 1891.

86 Current Literature. [Jan., CURRENT LITERATURE. DE LA SAUssAYEs MANUAL 01 THE SCIENCE OF RELIGION. For a great many reasons, there is at present much interest felt in the study of Comparative Religion. The ethnic religions are far better known to us than they ever were before, through the close intercourse of all parts of the world with one another. There is a lively zeal in the investigation of the religions of savage races. Historical and philological study has opened, and is daily opening more and more, the faiths of Antiquity to our knowledge. Inquiries and speculations connected with the doctrine of Evolu- tion in its varying forms and phases, serve to stimulate curiosity respecting the origins of religious beliefs and rites, and their mutations. Believers and disbelievers in Christianity are equally interested in exploring the creeds and ceremonies of the non- Christian portion of mankind. There is on all sides a readiness to hear what the teachers of the different branches of mankind have had to say on the most interesting and momentous of all themes. In the treatment of this subject of Comparative Religion, there will be, of course, a wide diversity according as the student, or the writer, does or does not start with a recognition of Chris- tianity as the Absolute Religion. Where there is faith in Chris- tianity as a system having, in a special and extraordinary sense, God for its author, and therefore, trustworthy and authoritative, Christianity will be made the touchstone for distinguishing truth from error in the wild-growing religions,to quote Schellings well-known phrase. Where, on the other hand, this peculiar character is not admitted to belong to Christianity, and when it is looked upon, as on a level as to its origin, and authority, and perfection, with other religions, the practical handling of the subject of Comparative Religion will correspond to this ante- cedent theory. It is vain to attempt to discuss with any thoroughness questions of this nature without an antecedent *3jfanual of the Science of Religion. By P. D. CHANTEPW The LA SAUSSAY~, Pro- fessor of Theology at Amsterdam. Translated from the German, by Beatrice S. Colyer-Fergurson (N6e Max Muller). London and New York: Longmans, Green & Co. 1891. 1892.] Current Literature. 8T assumption of some sort. There will be faith, or disbelief, or indifference and skepticism, respecting the claims of Christianity to credence as the one true religion. Among the recent books on the history of religions, the two volumes of Dc La Saussaye have high merit. The problems connected with the philosophy of religion, the problems of psy- chology and metaphysics, are not taken up, except briefly and incidentally. The object is to spread before the student a suffi- ciently full and methodical description of the religions of mankind. The classification, although open to some criticism, is on the whole satisfactory. The author, in regard to learning, is amply equipped for his task. There are observations, here and there, to which exception may be justly taken. As a rule, however, the various topics are treated instructively, with fairness, and with an appreciation of the dignity of the Christian system. The first of De La Saussaycs volumes is here presented in a translation by a daughter of Max Muller. The rendering is well made. The external form, typography of the volume, etc., are pleasing. The book is one to be commended as of much value to the students of Comparative Religion. It is to be hoped that it will be followed soon by a translation, from the same pen, of the second volume of the original work. GEORGE P. FISHER. HARvARD SvunJEs.*~Only a few years ago scholars com- plained that this country possessed no proper medium for the publication of philological papers. Now, however, in addition to the American Journal of Philology (which is just completing its twelfth volume), the Transactions of the American Philo- logical Association (of which twenty-one volumes have been published), and the Classical Review (which is supported partly by American, although mainly by British scholars), several of the colleges of the country are undertaking independent publica- tions, generally in Zwanglosen Heften. The Cornell studies contained papers which have been translated into German and received with interest abroad; the studies of the University of Nebraska contained an elaborate paper on the sounds and inflec- tions of the Cypriote dialect ~ the studies of the University of Texas have brought a condensed tract on scientific exploration * Harvard Studies in Classical Philology. Edited by a Committee of the Classi- cal Instructors of Harvard University. Vol. ii. Boston, 1891. pp. 213. $1.50.

1892.] Current Literature. 8T assumption of some sort. There will be faith, or disbelief, or indifference and skepticism, respecting the claims of Christianity to credence as the one true religion. Among the recent books on the history of religions, the two volumes of Dc La Saussaye have high merit. The problems connected with the philosophy of religion, the problems of psy- chology and metaphysics, are not taken up, except briefly and incidentally. The object is to spread before the student a suffi- ciently full and methodical description of the religions of mankind. The classification, although open to some criticism, is on the whole satisfactory. The author, in regard to learning, is amply equipped for his task. There are observations, here and there, to which exception may be justly taken. As a rule, however, the various topics are treated instructively, with fairness, and with an appreciation of the dignity of the Christian system. The first of De La Saussaycs volumes is here presented in a translation by a daughter of Max Muller. The rendering is well made. The external form, typography of the volume, etc., are pleasing. The book is one to be commended as of much value to the students of Comparative Religion. It is to be hoped that it will be followed soon by a translation, from the same pen, of the second volume of the original work. GEORGE P. FISHER. HARvARD SvunJEs.*~Only a few years ago scholars com- plained that this country possessed no proper medium for the publication of philological papers. Now, however, in addition to the American Journal of Philology (which is just completing its twelfth volume), the Transactions of the American Philo- logical Association (of which twenty-one volumes have been published), and the Classical Review (which is supported partly by American, although mainly by British scholars), several of the colleges of the country are undertaking independent publica- tions, generally in Zwanglosen Heften. The Cornell studies contained papers which have been translated into German and received with interest abroad; the studies of the University of Nebraska contained an elaborate paper on the sounds and inflec- tions of the Cypriote dialect ~ the studies of the University of Texas have brought a condensed tract on scientific exploration * Harvard Studies in Classical Philology. Edited by a Committee of the Classi- cal Instructors of Harvard University. Vol. ii. Boston, 1891. pp. 213. $1.50. 88 Current Literature. [Jan., in Asia Minor. The very day on which this volume of Harvard studies was handed to the writer, he received a copy of Colorado College studies, with papers of varying value on a large number of subjects. Yale philologists have as yet no such publication of their own, but have not been idle in such matters, as is shown by the fact that in the last published volume of Transactions of the Philo- logical A8sociation, three of the four articles were by Yale in- structors. The prefatory note of the first volume of Harvard studies states that the publication is supported by a fund of $6,000) con- tributed by the class of 1856. The longest and most popular article in the volume before us is by Prof. White, on the stage in Aristophanes. One of the most burning questions in archa~ology at the present time, is whether the Greek theatre of the best age, the theatre of Aeschy- ins, Sophocles, Euripides, and Aristophanes, had a raised stage for the actors, while the chorus were in the orchestra several feet below. The highest living authority on all matters of ancient architecture, Dr. Dt~rpfeld, Secretary of the German Institute at Athens, has declared that the existing remains of ancient theatres indicate that in the earlier and best age both actors and chorus played on the same level, and that the stage was introduced later. This view contradicts tradition so distinctly that it has met with considerable opposition. Immense confusion in the presentation of scenic antiquities results from the fact that the ancient authors quoted in the old scholia are referring now to one period and now to another. The old books on the Greek theatre try to combine all these scattered remarks, and form from them a consistent systematic view. Prof. White examines the eleven extant plays of Aristophanes, in order to see what inferences may be drawn from the requirements of the action, with regard to the presence or absence of a stage. He shows that the comedies of Aristophanes could not have been played upon the Vitruvian stage, ten or twelve feet above the station of the chorus. In another interesting article in these studies, Prof. Allen dis- cusses the question whether the praenomen Gains was two 5yllables or three, and proves that the form was originally C& uius, and that it was pronounced as a tn-syllable by the 1892.] Current Literature. 89 educated classes of Rome at any rate until the end of the lirst century of our era. Other papers of the volume are Quaestiones Petronianae (evi- dently a thesis for the Doctorate), Greek and Roman barbers. An inscribed Kotylos from Baotia, some uses of nec, and Par- ticipial Constructions with rVy~aYELY and ~vpe~V. Some of these papers are by instructors at Harvard, others by former graduates, who are now instructors in other colleges. On the whole this volume does credit to Harvard University and American philology. S. THE APosToLIc FATHERS BY BISHOP LIGHTFOOT.*~Thi5 vol- nine comprises the Epistles (genuine and spurious) of Clement of Rome, the Epistles of St. Ignatius, the Epistle of St. Polycarp, the Martyrdom of Polycarp, the Teaching of the Apostles, the Epistle of Barnabas, the Shepherd of Hermas, the Epistle to Diognetus, the Fragments of Papias, and the Reliques of the Elders preserved in Irenaeus. Each of these is given in the orig- inal, with revised text, short introduction, and English transla- tion by Bishop Lightfoot. The plan of the work is the most convenient, satisfactory and complete for the study of these writ- ings to be found in a single volume, and the name of Bishop Lightfoot is a sufficient guarantee that the plan has been faith- fully carried out. The Bishop created a trust, known as the Light- foot Fund for the Diocese of Durham, and conveyed to the trus- tees the copyright of his works named in a schedule. The income of the trust is to be applied towards erecting, repairing, endow- ing or supporting churches, chapels, schools, parsonages, stipends for clergy and other spiritual agents in connection with the Church of England and within the Diocese of Durham. This volume is published by the trustees of the Lightfoot Fund. THE ExPosIToRs BIBLIn.tThe last two volumes of this series, which complete the issue of 189091, are, Dr. Dods on the first * The Apostolic Fathers; Revised Texts with short Introductions and English Translations. By the late J. B. LIGIITFOOT, D.D., D.C.L., LL.D., Lord Bishop of Durham; edited and completed by J. R. RAiniER, M.A., Fellow of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, sometime Chaplain to the Bishop. London and New York. Macmillan & Co.., 1891, pp. xii. and 568. ~ The Gospel of St. John, I-XXJV, by MARcus DoDs, D.D.; The Acts of the Apostles, by the Rev. G. T. STonEs, D.D. A. C. Armstrong & Son, New York. 1891.

1892.] Current Literature. 89 educated classes of Rome at any rate until the end of the lirst century of our era. Other papers of the volume are Quaestiones Petronianae (evi- dently a thesis for the Doctorate), Greek and Roman barbers. An inscribed Kotylos from Baotia, some uses of nec, and Par- ticipial Constructions with rVy~aYELY and ~vpe~V. Some of these papers are by instructors at Harvard, others by former graduates, who are now instructors in other colleges. On the whole this volume does credit to Harvard University and American philology. S. THE APosToLIc FATHERS BY BISHOP LIGHTFOOT.*~Thi5 vol- nine comprises the Epistles (genuine and spurious) of Clement of Rome, the Epistles of St. Ignatius, the Epistle of St. Polycarp, the Martyrdom of Polycarp, the Teaching of the Apostles, the Epistle of Barnabas, the Shepherd of Hermas, the Epistle to Diognetus, the Fragments of Papias, and the Reliques of the Elders preserved in Irenaeus. Each of these is given in the orig- inal, with revised text, short introduction, and English transla- tion by Bishop Lightfoot. The plan of the work is the most convenient, satisfactory and complete for the study of these writ- ings to be found in a single volume, and the name of Bishop Lightfoot is a sufficient guarantee that the plan has been faith- fully carried out. The Bishop created a trust, known as the Light- foot Fund for the Diocese of Durham, and conveyed to the trus- tees the copyright of his works named in a schedule. The income of the trust is to be applied towards erecting, repairing, endow- ing or supporting churches, chapels, schools, parsonages, stipends for clergy and other spiritual agents in connection with the Church of England and within the Diocese of Durham. This volume is published by the trustees of the Lightfoot Fund. THE ExPosIToRs BIBLIn.tThe last two volumes of this series, which complete the issue of 189091, are, Dr. Dods on the first * The Apostolic Fathers; Revised Texts with short Introductions and English Translations. By the late J. B. LIGIITFOOT, D.D., D.C.L., LL.D., Lord Bishop of Durham; edited and completed by J. R. RAiniER, M.A., Fellow of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, sometime Chaplain to the Bishop. London and New York. Macmillan & Co.., 1891, pp. xii. and 568. ~ The Gospel of St. John, I-XXJV, by MARcus DoDs, D.D.; The Acts of the Apostles, by the Rev. G. T. STonEs, D.D. A. C. Armstrong & Son, New York. 1891.

1892.] Current Literature. 89 educated classes of Rome at any rate until the end of the lirst century of our era. Other papers of the volume are Quaestiones Petronianae (evi- dently a thesis for the Doctorate), Greek and Roman barbers. An inscribed Kotylos from Baotia, some uses of nec, and Par- ticipial Constructions with rVy~aYELY and ~vpe~V. Some of these papers are by instructors at Harvard, others by former graduates, who are now instructors in other colleges. On the whole this volume does credit to Harvard University and American philology. S. THE APosToLIc FATHERS BY BISHOP LIGHTFOOT.*~Thi5 vol- nine comprises the Epistles (genuine and spurious) of Clement of Rome, the Epistles of St. Ignatius, the Epistle of St. Polycarp, the Martyrdom of Polycarp, the Teaching of the Apostles, the Epistle of Barnabas, the Shepherd of Hermas, the Epistle to Diognetus, the Fragments of Papias, and the Reliques of the Elders preserved in Irenaeus. Each of these is given in the orig- inal, with revised text, short introduction, and English transla- tion by Bishop Lightfoot. The plan of the work is the most convenient, satisfactory and complete for the study of these writ- ings to be found in a single volume, and the name of Bishop Lightfoot is a sufficient guarantee that the plan has been faith- fully carried out. The Bishop created a trust, known as the Light- foot Fund for the Diocese of Durham, and conveyed to the trus- tees the copyright of his works named in a schedule. The income of the trust is to be applied towards erecting, repairing, endow- ing or supporting churches, chapels, schools, parsonages, stipends for clergy and other spiritual agents in connection with the Church of England and within the Diocese of Durham. This volume is published by the trustees of the Lightfoot Fund. THE ExPosIToRs BIBLIn.tThe last two volumes of this series, which complete the issue of 189091, are, Dr. Dods on the first * The Apostolic Fathers; Revised Texts with short Introductions and English Translations. By the late J. B. LIGIITFOOT, D.D., D.C.L., LL.D., Lord Bishop of Durham; edited and completed by J. R. RAiniER, M.A., Fellow of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, sometime Chaplain to the Bishop. London and New York. Macmillan & Co.., 1891, pp. xii. and 568. ~ The Gospel of St. John, I-XXJV, by MARcus DoDs, D.D.; The Acts of the Apostles, by the Rev. G. T. STonEs, D.D. A. C. Armstrong & Son, New York. 1891. 90 Current Literature. [Jan., eleven chapters of John, and Dr. Chadwick on the Acts. Prof es- sor Dods has written a popular commentary upon the Fourth Gospel without introducing critical methods or details. His well- known scholarship is a sufficient guaranty that his work, although intended for the people, rests upon a close study of the original text. The most noticeable deficiency of the volume is seen in the lack of any extended introduction upon the genuineness and peculiarities of the Gospel. This feature is not wanting in the volume on Acts. An elaborate introduction treats of the exter- nal evidence, the place of Acts in the Canon, and the accuracy of St. Luke. The author is an able exponent of traditional views and warns his readers against German criticism, since our Ger- ,, man cousins are conspicuously deficient in historic imagina- tion (p. 12). There is often observable a contemptuous tone in place of which dispassionate argument would have been more dignified and effective, as where the author refers to a well-known German critic as a German writer of a rationalistic type, named Zeller (p. 300). The expositions here presented may be useful for popular reading but they add nothing to the knowledge of the subject and are immeasurably inferior to those found in the old but valuable book, Neanders Planting aisd Training of the Christian Church. UPHAMS SAINT MATTHEWS WirNEss.*~This is quite a re- markable book. On the title-page we see that the author refers to the writer of the First Gospel as the earliest Evangelist. The expectations which this statement awakens are not disap- pointed when one opens the volume. Some of the reasons for this opinion are given By the reading of his gospel on every Sabbath (!) the brevity of St. Marks record of the temptation is accounted for; but had the second been the first gospel, unbe- lievers could argue that what in St. Matthews gospel is addi- tional is legendary (pp. 59, 60). To Christian minds that alone is enough to make it certain that St. Matthews Gospel was earlier than St. Marks(p. 59). Enough! The devout imagina- tion has important religious uses, but the pursuit of exegesis and Biblical criticism is not among them. * Saint )Jfatthews Witness to the Words and Wbrks of the Lord, or, oar Saviours Life as revealed in the Gospel of his earliest Evangelist. By FRAncis W. UPHAM, LL.D. Hunt& Eaton, New York, 1891. Pp. 415. $1.20.

90 Current Literature. [Jan., eleven chapters of John, and Dr. Chadwick on the Acts. Prof es- sor Dods has written a popular commentary upon the Fourth Gospel without introducing critical methods or details. His well- known scholarship is a sufficient guaranty that his work, although intended for the people, rests upon a close study of the original text. The most noticeable deficiency of the volume is seen in the lack of any extended introduction upon the genuineness and peculiarities of the Gospel. This feature is not wanting in the volume on Acts. An elaborate introduction treats of the exter- nal evidence, the place of Acts in the Canon, and the accuracy of St. Luke. The author is an able exponent of traditional views and warns his readers against German criticism, since our Ger- ,, man cousins are conspicuously deficient in historic imagina- tion (p. 12). There is often observable a contemptuous tone in place of which dispassionate argument would have been more dignified and effective, as where the author refers to a well-known German critic as a German writer of a rationalistic type, named Zeller (p. 300). The expositions here presented may be useful for popular reading but they add nothing to the knowledge of the subject and are immeasurably inferior to those found in the old but valuable book, Neanders Planting aisd Training of the Christian Church. UPHAMS SAINT MATTHEWS WirNEss.*~This is quite a re- markable book. On the title-page we see that the author refers to the writer of the First Gospel as the earliest Evangelist. The expectations which this statement awakens are not disap- pointed when one opens the volume. Some of the reasons for this opinion are given By the reading of his gospel on every Sabbath (!) the brevity of St. Marks record of the temptation is accounted for; but had the second been the first gospel, unbe- lievers could argue that what in St. Matthews gospel is addi- tional is legendary (pp. 59, 60). To Christian minds that alone is enough to make it certain that St. Matthews Gospel was earlier than St. Marks(p. 59). Enough! The devout imagina- tion has important religious uses, but the pursuit of exegesis and Biblical criticism is not among them. * Saint )Jfatthews Witness to the Words and Wbrks of the Lord, or, oar Saviours Life as revealed in the Gospel of his earliest Evangelist. By FRAncis W. UPHAM, LL.D. Hunt& Eaton, New York, 1891. Pp. 415. $1.20. 1892.] Current Literature. 91 DEWITTS VERsION OF THE PSAJLM5.*~.~The author prefaces his work with an elaborate introduction upon the origin and contents of the Psalter. The imprecatory Psalms he regards as terrible but just expressions of the writer, speaking as Jehovahs representative, in condemnation of His enemies. Their repulsiveness is the re- pulsiveness of fact. They may be used in public worship though the author does not say with what benefitbut we ought not to use similar expressions against our enemies ; indeed, ~ we have no such enemies as these. The author concludes by saying that hate is not consistent with love, but does not show how the two could ever have been consistent in the inspired Psalmist. The whole argument breaks down with its own weight because the authors theory cannot permit him to accept the fact that the Psalms often embody an imperfect morality. The translatioii is executed with great care and skill and the notes are learned and valuable. THE WAY OUT OF AGNosTIcIsM.tThe way out is by getting a correct view of the world-whole. Modern Agnosticism has a false view of it. Here lies the difficulty. The common sense view of the world may be correct as far as it goes, but it is in- adequate. It looks at the world from the practical point of view. The scientific view may be correct, but it is fragmentary. All this needs to be supplemented by the philosophical view which binds the world into unity. This view of the universe is con- ditioned by a correct theory of universals, that is, of things in their kinds. Modern Agnosticism has no correct theory of uni- versals. There are three theories. The first is the Greek theory. The universal exists in the individual and the individual is the real. This is the old Realism. The second is the German theory. The universal has no objective reality. It is a mere conception, a mere name. This is the old Kominalism, the mod- ern Conceptualism or Idealism. This lies at the root of all our mischievous modern Agnosticism. The third is what the author why is not evidentcalls the American theory. The universal is in itself real. There is an objective generic reality. The mdi- * The Psalms, a new Translation with Introductory Essay and Notes, by JOHN DEWITT, DID., LL.D., L.H.D., Professor in the Theological Seminary at New Brunswick, N. J. New York, A. D. F. Randolph & Co. 1891. ~2.O0. ~ The Way out of Agnosticism, or the Philosophy of Free Religion. By FRANcIs ELLINGWOOD ABBOT, Ph.D., late Instructor in Philosophy in Harvard University. Boston: Little, Brown and Company. 1890.

1892.] Current Literature. 91 DEWITTS VERsION OF THE PSAJLM5.*~.~The author prefaces his work with an elaborate introduction upon the origin and contents of the Psalter. The imprecatory Psalms he regards as terrible but just expressions of the writer, speaking as Jehovahs representative, in condemnation of His enemies. Their repulsiveness is the re- pulsiveness of fact. They may be used in public worship though the author does not say with what benefitbut we ought not to use similar expressions against our enemies ; indeed, ~ we have no such enemies as these. The author concludes by saying that hate is not consistent with love, but does not show how the two could ever have been consistent in the inspired Psalmist. The whole argument breaks down with its own weight because the authors theory cannot permit him to accept the fact that the Psalms often embody an imperfect morality. The translatioii is executed with great care and skill and the notes are learned and valuable. THE WAY OUT OF AGNosTIcIsM.tThe way out is by getting a correct view of the world-whole. Modern Agnosticism has a false view of it. Here lies the difficulty. The common sense view of the world may be correct as far as it goes, but it is in- adequate. It looks at the world from the practical point of view. The scientific view may be correct, but it is fragmentary. All this needs to be supplemented by the philosophical view which binds the world into unity. This view of the universe is con- ditioned by a correct theory of universals, that is, of things in their kinds. Modern Agnosticism has no correct theory of uni- versals. There are three theories. The first is the Greek theory. The universal exists in the individual and the individual is the real. This is the old Realism. The second is the German theory. The universal has no objective reality. It is a mere conception, a mere name. This is the old Kominalism, the mod- ern Conceptualism or Idealism. This lies at the root of all our mischievous modern Agnosticism. The third is what the author why is not evidentcalls the American theory. The universal is in itself real. There is an objective generic reality. The mdi- * The Psalms, a new Translation with Introductory Essay and Notes, by JOHN DEWITT, DID., LL.D., L.H.D., Professor in the Theological Seminary at New Brunswick, N. J. New York, A. D. F. Randolph & Co. 1891. ~2.O0. ~ The Way out of Agnosticism, or the Philosophy of Free Religion. By FRANcIs ELLINGWOOD ABBOT, Ph.D., late Instructor in Philosophy in Harvard University. Boston: Little, Brown and Company. 1890.

1892.] Current Literature. 91 DEWITTS VERsION OF THE PSAJLM5.*~.~The author prefaces his work with an elaborate introduction upon the origin and contents of the Psalter. The imprecatory Psalms he regards as terrible but just expressions of the writer, speaking as Jehovahs representative, in condemnation of His enemies. Their repulsiveness is the re- pulsiveness of fact. They may be used in public worship though the author does not say with what benefitbut we ought not to use similar expressions against our enemies ; indeed, ~ we have no such enemies as these. The author concludes by saying that hate is not consistent with love, but does not show how the two could ever have been consistent in the inspired Psalmist. The whole argument breaks down with its own weight because the authors theory cannot permit him to accept the fact that the Psalms often embody an imperfect morality. The translatioii is executed with great care and skill and the notes are learned and valuable. THE WAY OUT OF AGNosTIcIsM.tThe way out is by getting a correct view of the world-whole. Modern Agnosticism has a false view of it. Here lies the difficulty. The common sense view of the world may be correct as far as it goes, but it is in- adequate. It looks at the world from the practical point of view. The scientific view may be correct, but it is fragmentary. All this needs to be supplemented by the philosophical view which binds the world into unity. This view of the universe is con- ditioned by a correct theory of universals, that is, of things in their kinds. Modern Agnosticism has no correct theory of uni- versals. There are three theories. The first is the Greek theory. The universal exists in the individual and the individual is the real. This is the old Realism. The second is the German theory. The universal has no objective reality. It is a mere conception, a mere name. This is the old Kominalism, the mod- ern Conceptualism or Idealism. This lies at the root of all our mischievous modern Agnosticism. The third is what the author why is not evidentcalls the American theory. The universal is in itself real. There is an objective generic reality. The mdi- * The Psalms, a new Translation with Introductory Essay and Notes, by JOHN DEWITT, DID., LL.D., L.H.D., Professor in the Theological Seminary at New Brunswick, N. J. New York, A. D. F. Randolph & Co. 1891. ~2.O0. ~ The Way out of Agnosticism, or the Philosophy of Free Religion. By FRANcIs ELLINGWOOD ABBOT, Ph.D., late Instructor in Philosophy in Harvard University. Boston: Little, Brown and Company. 1890. 92 Current Litercaure. [Jan. vidual is known oniy as related to the genus-in-itself. This is scientific Realism, and is at the foundation of a correct view of the universe. This view taken out into the universe secures to us a knowledge of it, as a machine, an organism, and a person. The world as a real machine pre-supposes something more, viz: organism. And the world as a real organism pre-supposes some- thing more, viz: personality. This part of the discussion is very interesting. It is a very compact discussion and lacks clearness, because it is not sufficiently amplified. The book is a small monograph of only seventy-five pages. But it is a pro- foundly suggestive book and it is greatly to be hoped that the author will carry out his purpose to give us the result of his thinking in a larger volume.

NEW ENGLANDER AND YALE REVIEW. No. CCLXIII. FEBRUAIIY, 1892. ARTICLE 1.THE HALF-WAY COVENANT. THE first century of Congregationalism on New England soil produced but one controversy of wide-spread interest and permanent importancethat regarding the churchly privileges of the adult, but non-regenerate children of church-members. As a discussion of moment, the controversy is treated by almost all writers on New England history. Yet in regard to no portion of our New England story does error seem to be m6re persistent than as to the-nature of the Half-Way Covenant dispute. In spite of the declaration, by such scholars in our polity as IDrs. Leonard Bacon,* D. T. Fiske,t and II. IMI. Dex- ter4 that added political privilege was no consequence of the dispute, the most painstaking English writer who has yet treated our colonial history, Mr. J. A. Doyle, finds the chief value of the Half-Way system to be that it broke down the * Cont. Eccies. Hist. Connecticut, p. 17. ~ Cont. Eccies. list. Essex Co., Mass., pp. 271, 272. f Congregationalism of the Last Three hundred Years, pp. 468, 469. VOL. XX. 94 The ffa~f. Way Uovemarn~. [Feb., hard barrier which fenced in political privileges.~~* In com- pany with Mr. Doyle, Mr. John Fiske,t the author of the most brilliant recent sketch of New England beginnings, sees the chief demand for the system in a supposed extension of politi- cal rights. The late Prof. Johnston, writing of the Colony of Connecticut, conscious that church-membership was there never made a condition of the franchise as it was in Massachusetts, in lien of the usual political explanation finds the key to the movement in that it really gave every baptized person a voice in church government.4 Almost as perennial an error as the ascription of the Half- Way system to a desire for added political or ecclesiastical franchise is that which discovers the fountain of the dispute in the quarrels of the Hartford church after the death of Hooker, instead of tracing its sources to the earlier years of the New England churches and to original inconsistencies in their theories as to church-membership. If then, the writers who have studied New England history with care have so frequently fallen into error, it is no wonder that the ordinary reader often entertains conceptions of the Half-Way Covenant system well-nigh grotesque. A member of the Connecticut Historical Society informed that body, at a recent meeting, that an interpretation which he had frequently encountered was that the term designated baptism when only one parent was professedly a Christian. The original settlers of New England were men sifted out of the mass of the Puritans of England. The struggles through which they had gone, and the type of piety which they had heard inculcated, engendered prevailingly a deep, in- trospective faith, which looked upon a conscious regenerative work of the Spirit of God in the heart as essential to Christian hope. And as the New England fathers held firmly to the doctrine that the visible church should consist of none but evident Christians, none were admitted to the adult member- ship of the churches who could not give some account of the transforming operation of God in their own lives. * English in AmericaPuritan Coloniesil: 99, 100. Beginnings of New England, pp. 250-252. ~ Connecticut, p. 227. 1892.] The Half- Way Covenant. 95 But there was one exception to this rule of admission. The constitutive element in the church was the covenant, and this covenant, like that made with the House of Israel by God, was held to include not only the covenanting adult, but his children. Hence, from the first, the fathers of New England insisted that the children of church-members were themselves members, or in covenant; and as such were justly entitled to those church privileges which were adapted to their state of Christian development, of which the chief were baptism and the watchful discipline of the church.* They did not enter the church by baptism, they were entitled to baptism because already members of the church.t There was therefore an inconsistency in the application of the Congregational theory of the constitution of a church; for, while affirming that a proper church consisted only of those possessed of personal Christian character, the fathers admitted to membership, in some degree at least, those who had no claim but Christian parentage. But the perplexities of the situation were not at first appar- ent. Leading theologians like Hooker, Cotton, Davenport, and Richard Mather asserted that none but children of visible saints should be baptized ;t and, while they declared at the same time that the children of such saints were church-mem- bers, they did not see at once the practical difficulties involved in that affirmation. It was the growth to manhood and woman- hood of the children of the first settlers that forced the prob- lem on the churches. Then, in addition to the two great divisions of early daysthe consciously regenerate and those who laid no claim to Christian character,there arose a third class ever since familiarly known in every New England town, men and women whose parents had been actively Christian, who had themselves been baptized and educated in the Chris- * So Higginson and Brewster in 1629, Morton N. E. Memorial, ed. 1855, p. 101; Richard Mather, Answer to the XXXII Questions, pp. 20, 21; Hooker, Survey, Pt. I, p. 48, Pt. III, p. 25; Cambridge Platform, Oh. XII, sec. 7, etc. f R. Mather, Answer to XXXII Questions, p. 12. ~ See Hooker, Survey, Pt. III, pp. 832; Cotton, Way of the Churches, p. 81; Davenport, Answer unto Nine Positions pp. 6171: H. Mather, Answer to XXXII Questions, pp. 20-23. [Feb., 96 The Half- Way Covenant. tian faith, were well grounded in Christian truth, were students of the Bible and interested listeners in the sanctuary, were desirous of bringing up their families in the way in which they themselves had been trained, and were moral in their lives; yet could tell of no such experience as their parents had called a change of heart, and when asked as to any conscious work of God in their souls could speak with confidence of none. How were these persons to be treated? Were they to be admitted to all the privileges of the church, as a few in whom Presbyterian or Episcopal conceptions were strong, urged even in the early days of colonial history? This would be to abandon the whole theory of regenerate church-membership. Or, were they to be denied any claim to belong to the covenant people of God and refused all church privilege? This course of action would give substance to the criticism freely offered by the Puritan party in England that too large a portion of the population of New England was outside the churches as it was. It would fnrthermore cast out from the benefits of church discipline a class of persons whom all Congregational authorities held to be church-members by birth; and what adequate ground conld be alleged for their separation from the chnrch when they were not guilty of scandalous life, and the only charge against them was a want of a regenerative change which the theology of the day insisted was solely the work of God. The objections to each of these methods of dealing with the problem were so serious that the churches at length settled down on what was practically a compromise. The standing of unregenerate members in the church was held to entitle them to transmit church-membership and baptism to their offspring, but their unregenerate character barred them from participa- tion in the Lords Supper. Members of the church they were, but not in full communion. At the same time, so solemn was the privilege of baptism esteemed to be, that no non- regenerate church-member could claim it for his children with- out assenting in his own person to the main truths of the Gospel scheme, and promising submission to the discipline of the church of which he was a member by birthin the phrase of the time, owning the covenant. This was the result 1892.1 The Half- Way Covenant. 97 reached by the Ministerial Convention of 1657, and the Synod of 1662. This result was attained only by a gradual development of public thought. It was no part of the plan of the founders of New England at their coming. The consequences of their two-fold theory as to entrance into the church were not yet developed. But it was not long before cases arose in which the limitation of baptism to the first generation of the descen- dants of professing Christians seemed to involve undue sever- ity. In 1634, a godly grandfather, apparently a member of the Dorchester church, whose son or daughter could lay no claim to personal regeneration, desired baptism for his grand- child. The advice of the Boston church was sought, and was given, after debate, in a letter signed by the teacher, Cotton, and the two ruling elders, Oliver and Leverett. It was favor- able to the grandfathers request, and the decision was based on the abiding character of the membership of the non-regen- erate parents who form the link between the grandfather and the child Though the Child be unclean where both the Parents are Pagans and Infidels, yet we ~nay not account such Parents for Pagans and infidels, who are themselves baptized, and profess their beliqf of the Fundamental Articles of the Chris- tian Faith, and live without notorious Scandalous Crime, though they give not clear evidence of their regenerate estate.~~* This was indeed a modification of the original New England view that baptism should be limited to the children of the personally regenerate, a modification forced by the two-fold theory of church-membership. It was disapproved by Hooker, Richard iMiather, and even Cotton himself within the next few years.t But the principle on which it was basedmembership by birthwas unrepudiated, and it is no wonder that, holding such views in 1634, Cotton felt able before his death in 1652 to say of the offspring of church-members * Letter dated Dec. 16, 1634, in Increase Mathers First Principles of New England, pp. 2-4. t See Hooker, Survey, Pt. III, pp. 832; Cotton, Way of the Churches, p. 81; Davenport, Answer unto Nine Positions, pp. 6171; R. Mather, Answer to XXXII Questions, pp. 2023. 98 The Half- Way Covenant. [Feb., Though they be not fit to make such profession of visible faith, as to admit them to the Lords Table, yet they may make profession full enough to receive them to B aptisme, or to the same estate I8hmael stood in after Circumcision.~~* Nor was Cotton alone in these views. Before his death in 1644, Rev. George Phillips of Watertown expressed, in lan- guage which leaves no doubt what his position on the baptismal question must have been, his conviction of the abiding church- membership not only of professing Christians, but of all descended from them.t By 1645, Richard Mather of Dor- chester, who in 1639 had been confining baptism to the chil- dren of visible saints4 had changed his opinions enough to answer in the affirmative the question When those that were baptized in Infancy by the Cove- nant of their Parents being come to Age, are not yet found fit to be received to the Lords Table, although they be married and have Children, whether are those their Children to be bap- tized or no. And for this reason The Parents as they were born in the Covenant, so they still continue therein, being neither cast out, nor deserving so to be, and if so, why should not their Children be baptised, for if the parents be in Covenant, are not the Children so likewise ? lit was at this point of time that the Half-Way Covenant question was indirectly pushed to the front by a political prob- lem which involved the whole New England theory of church- membership, and which at the first glance might seem to con- firm the supposition that the agitation for larger baptism had primarily a political basis. By no means all the people of the colonies were satisfied with existing political and religious institutions. And this feeling of dissatisfaction was increased when the opening years of the civil war in England made the Presbyterians masters of the home land. Men who in England would now have had some voice in the choice of a minister and would have enjoyed all the sacraments of the church, * First Principles, p. 6. The letter is without date. f Reply to a Confutation of some Grounds for Inf ant Baptism, p. 145. ~ Answer to XXXII Questions, p. 22. First Principles, pp. 10, 11. 1892.1 The Half- Way Covenant. 99 found their exclusion from the New England churches on the ground of lack of religious experience a grievance. In Mas- sachnsetts they felt the added burden of exclusion from the franchise. These elements of opposition determined to make use of Presbyterian dominance in the English Parliament to attack New England institutions. Accordingly in 1645, Wil- liam Yassall of Scituate, in Plymouth Colony, began an agitation in favor of complete religious tolerance. The move- ment thus initiated was taken up in May, 1646, by some seven men in the Massachusetts Colony, led by Dr. Robert Childe, and the case laid before the Massachusetts General Conrt.* Without following into detail the ramifications of the conse- quent discussions here and in England, it is sufficient to observe that the points raised by Childe and his associates were not primarily in regard to baptism. What they asked was that they might be admitted to all the rights and privileges of the church, as they wonld have been under the then existing Presbyterian institutions of England, without the necessity of a declaration of personal experience or an entrance into cov- enant. The essence of the Half-Way Covenant was that it acknowledged the existing covenant relations of all whose parents were in covenant; the effort of Childe and his friends was to do away with the covenant theory of church constitu- tion altogether. Though this movement was thus one not involving directly the Half-Way Covenant question, it stirred up a considerable discussion as to how New England institutions could be pre- served from English interference, and aroused a determination to strengthen the colonial position by a united declaration of Congregational principles, heretofore unforniulated by any representative body. The same session of the Massachusetts Court which saw the presentation of Childes petition wit- nessed the call of the Cambridge Synod. In that call the Court made the baptismal question prominent, affirming that Some differences of opinion & practice of one church from anotlir do already appeare amongst us . . . . & this . . . in pointes of no small consequence & very materiall, to instance in no more but onely those about baptisme, & ye psons to be * The petition is in Uutchinson, Collection, pp. 188196. 100 The Half- Way Covenant. [Feb., received thereto, in wch one pticular ye apphensions of many psons in ye country are knowne not a little to differ; for whereas in most churches the ministr5 do baptize onely such children whose nearest parents, one or both of them, are setled membrs, in full comunion w~ one or other of these churches, there be some who do baptize ye children if ye grandfather or grandmother be such members, though the imediate parents be not, & othrl though for avoyding of offence of neighbor churches, they do not as yet actually so practice, yet they do much incline thereto, as thinking more liberty and latitude in this point ought to be yeilded then hath hitherto bene doue.~~* It is evident that the problem of the Half-Way Covenant was already in 1646 fully in the minds of the Massachusetts Court, and was one of the great questions which they wished the Cambridge Synod to decide. But the problem was press- ing not in Massachusetts alone. Under date of August 23, 1647, Rev. Henry Smith of Wethersfield, Conn., wrote to Richard Mather We are at a Loss in our parts about members Children, being received into Communion, because it is undetermined, in the extent of it, at the Synod,t our thoughts here are that the promise made to the Seed of Confederates, Gem. 17. takes in all Children of Confederating Parents.4 The sympathizers whom Mr. Smith evidently had in Con- necticut, embraced, there is every reason to believe, Rev. Samuel Stone of Hartford, and Rev. John Warham of Wind- sor, the latter later on opponent of the Half-Way Covenant. Nor was Plymouth Colony without its share of advocates for the larger practice. Rev. Ralph Partridge of Duxhury, one of the three ministers appointed to draw up a tentative Plat- form for the consideration of the Cambridge Synod, inserted the following statement in the form which he laid before that body in 1648 The persons unto whom the Sacrament of Baptisme is dis- pensed (and as we conceive ought to be) are [beside professing adults] .... also the children of such Parent or Parents, as * Mass. Col. Records, Ii: 155. ~ The Cambridge Synod was still in being. ~ First Principles, p. 24. Samuel Stone in a letter of June 6, 1650, First Principles, p. 9, speaks as if he had long been of this mind. 1892.] The Half- Way Covenant. 101 having laid hold of the Covenant of grace (in the judgement of Charity) are in vi8ilide Covenant with his [Christs] Church and all their Seed after them that cast not off the Covenant of God by some Scandalous and obstinate going on in Sin.~~* In the remaining Colony, New Haven, though the powerful influence of Davenport was of course against the Half-Way Covenant theory, the larger view found an advocate as early as 1651 in the able Peter Prudden of iMiilford.t The question arises, in the light of these facts, why the Half-Way Covenant was not adopted by the Cambridge Synod, and why that body contented itself with a merely subsidiary and somewhat ambiguous treatment of the question which had been put in the fore-front by the Court. The fact is it en- countered opposition in the body itself. The Half-Way Cove- nant was championed in the Synod by some, but was earnestly opposed by a few, led it would appear, by Rev. Charles Chauncy of Scituate, later President of Harvard College, and destined to be the great opponent of the system after its adoption by the Synod of 16624 The Synod preferred to make no declaration on the subject rather than risk a divided result. It must be plain from the facts thus far narrated that the Half-Way Covenant discussion was already widespread when the personal quarrel between Stone and Goodwin broke out in the Hartford church in 1653, to which its origin has often been traced. It is evident also that no one colony more than an- other was interested in the question. If political considera- tions, like the extension of franchise by the enlargement of church~membership, were the chief points involved in the Half-Way Covenant controversy, why did it excite as much interest and rouse up as warm advocates in Plymouth and Con- necticut, when no church-membership test existed, as in Massa- chusetts? Why did it continue and increase after the complete discomfiture of Childe and his innovating friends? Why does the literature of the whole controversy speak of no addi- tional political rights to be gained by the Half-Way Covenant * First Principles, p. 23. ~ Preface to the Result of the Synod of 1662, pp. 11, 12. ~ See Preface to Result of Synod of 1662, p. 12; Allin, Animadversions upon the Antisynodalia Americana, p. 5. 102 The Ha~f- Way Covenant. [Feb., chnrch-member, and why, to anticipate a portion of the story, does the most violent qnarrel which the Half-Way Covenant aronsed in iMiassachnsetts take place after the repeal of the restriction of the franchise to chnrch-members in 1664 ~ However political agitation directed against the New England religions system may have tnrned mens attentions to the qnes- tions involved in that system, the fact remains that the Half- Way Convenant problem in New England was always religions rather than political. But the support of the Half-Way theory seems to have been at first greater among the ministers than the brethren of the Chnrches; and this fact acconnts for the slowness with which it was introdnced into practice.t In what church the system was first agitated as a practical issne is hard to say. Discussed at Salem in 1652, and its principles adopted by 1654, the oppo- sition of a few prevented the actual administration of baptism there till 16654 Meanwhile the church in Dorchester, of which that earnest advocate of the new methods, Richard Mather, was pastor, began debate apparently in the opening weeks of 1655, bnt did not come to an affirmative result till 1676, when Mather had been seven years dead. At Ipswich it was debated by the chnrch in Jannary, 1653, but not pnt in nse till 1656. This action wonld seem to be the first accept- ance of the new system as a rnle for practice by any New England chnrch. Connecticnt was keenly interested in the baptismal question while these events were in progress in Massachnsetts; and it so happened also that from 1653 to 1659 one of the bitterest quarrels in New England ecclesiastical history raged at Hart- ford, a quarrel which has frequently, bnt erroneously, been * Vote of Aug. 3, 1664, avowedly based on the order of Charles II. of April, 1662. Mass. Col., Rec. IV (II): 117, 118. I refer of course to the quarrel in the Boston First Church, 1669 onward. ~ See Remarks of Cotton Mather, Magnalia, ed. 1853, II: 311, 312, re- garding the period after 1662; church records go to show that they are as true of the decade previous. ~ White, New Eng. Congregationalism, pp. 49, 50, 60,61. ~ Records of the First Ch. at Dorchester, pp. 3436, 55, 69, 70, 164166. First Principles, pp. 23, 24, Felt, Ecclesiastical lust, of N. E., II: 141. ~T The story of this quarrel was first told with fulness by Dr. G. L. Walker, History of the First Church, Hartford, pp. 146-175. 1892.1 The Half- Way Covenant. 103 represented as the beginning of the l{alf-Way controversy. At a later period, 1666 to 1670, the qaestion of baptism tore the Hartford flock; bnt the dispute in 165359 was a personal quarrel between the teacher, Samuel Stone, and the ruling elder, William Goodwin, originating over the choice of a suc- cessor to Hooker. But though the baptismal question was not a dividing issue in the first Hartford quarrel, this turmoiled state of the leading church in the colony probably led to a discussion of all questions affecting church procedure thronghout the little commonwealth. Apparently as a consequence of this general agitation a petition was presented to the Connecticut General Court at its session, May 15, 1656, by persons whose names have not been preserved, but who were desirons of some en- largement of the terms of baptism. The Court heard the prayer and appointed the governor, deputy governor, and two prominent citizens of the colony a committee to consult with the ministers of Connecticnt, and, if deemed needful, with their aid to draw up a series of qnestions to be presented to the courts of the other colonies for answer.* Such a list was duly prepared and sent to the Massachusetts Court; and that body, evidently sympathizing with the movement, promptly appointed, on October 14, 1656, a committee of thirteen prom- inent ministers, headed by John Norton and Richard Mather, to meet at the expense of the government at Boston, on June 4, 1657, and discuss the questions presented by Connecticut. At the same time the Massachusetts Court invited the other colonies to send their representatives to the meeting.t Thus summoned, Plymouth appears to have taken no action. Connecticut of course responded favorably, appointing four of its leading divines by vote of Feb. 26, 1657, and ordering a fast to be kept to seek divine guidance in the proposed delib- erations4 But New Haven, where the influence of John Davenport was supreme, on Feb. 24, 1657, refused any share in the assembly, and replied in a long letter urging a strict adhesion to the old ways. * Conn. Records, I: 281. The questions were doubtless the XXI Queries answered by the Assembly at Boston in 1657; the list given by Trumbull, Hist. Coun., I: 302, is an error. It really belongs in 1666. ~ Mass. Col. Records, III: 419, IIY (I): 280. ~ Conn. Records, I: 288. New Haven Records, II: 196198. 104 like Half- Way Covenant. [Feb., The refusal of New Haven and the non-action of Plymouth had no effect on the meeting of the ministerial assembly, which held its session from June 4 to June 19. Of the course of the meeting we know nothing. The result could not have been unanimous if Chauncy responded to his invitation to be present; but there was doubtless substantial agreement in the conclusions reached. The membership of the children of church-members was declared to be personal and permanent, and sufficient to entitle the member by birth, though not per- sonally regenerate, to transmit membership and a right to bap- tism to his offspring, on condition of an express acknowledg-- ment on his part of at least an intellectual faith and a desire to submit to all covenant obligations implied in membership. Yet though this membership is complete, as far as it goes, it is not sufficient to admit to full communion or to a vote in church affairs. For these further privileges a profession of personal regeneration is necessary. The declaration of this joint meeting of Massachusetts and Connecticut ministers in regard to the share of Half-Way members in the votes of the church is worth quoting, if only to show the baselessness of Prof. Johnstons statement of the effect of the Half-Way Covenant Quest. 7.Whether as large Qualifications be not required of a Members child to the participation of the Lords Supper, and the priviledges of votes and censures, as were required of his Parents at their first entrance ~ Concerning the power of voting, it is not rational that they should exercise a Church-power as to the administration of Church-Ordinances, which voting implies, who themselves are unfit for all Ordi- nances.~~* This was but a repetition of the prohibition imposed by the Ipswich church when it adopted the Half-Way Covenant in 1656.t * Disputation Concerning Church-Members and their Children in An- ~wer to XXI Questions, pp. 17, 18. t That notwithstanding the baptizing the children of such, yet we judge that these adult persons are not to come to the Lords Supper, nor to act in Church votes, unless they satisfy the reasonable charity of tbe Elders or Church, that they have a work of faith and repentance in them. Ipswich Ch. Records in Felt, Eceles. Hist. N. E., 11:141. 1892.] The Half- Way Covenant. 105 On the adjournment of the assembly the result was pre- sented to the Connecticut Court by Rev. Samuel Stone, and on Aug. 12, 1657, sent by that body to all the churches in the colony that objections might be made known at the October Court.* Yet though the church at Windsor began practicing the recommendation of the assembly on Jan. 31, 1658, no ex- ceptions were reported. That this was the case was not due to unanimity of feeling in Connecticut, but because public interest was diverted by the aggravated form which the dis- pute in the Hartford church had assumed, and a similar per- sonal quarrel which had arisen at Wethersfield. In Massachusetts a diversity of sentiment, greater among the laity than the ministers, prolonged the discussion and threat- ened serious division. The situation was made more critical when the Restoration, in 1660, brought into power in England the party hostile to the New England church way. It seemed more than ever desirable that uniformity of practice should prevail, and the civil power once more interfered. On Dec. 31, 1661, the Massachusetts Court issued a peremptory order to the churches of the colony to send their ministers and repre- sentatives to Boston on March 11, following.t Thus sum- moned, a Synod,~ representative of the churches of Massachu- setts colony alone, assembled with a membership of about seventy. In its ranks were to be found such lights of the early New England pulpit as John Wilson, John iNorton, Richard Mather, John Allin and Charles Chauncy; and rising men of the second generation like John Higginson, Increase and Eleazer Mather, and Jonathan Mitchell. The Synod found that its task was severe. The favorers of the Half-Way Covenant, led by Mitchell in debate, were in overwhelming majority; but the opposition included such men as Chauncy, Mayo, and the two younger Mathers, supported by * Conn. Records, I: 302. Mass. Col. Records IV (II): 38. ~ The best account of this Synod and its result is that by the late Dr, Ill. M. Dexter, Cong. Quarterly, IV: 268291. ~ Dr. Dexter omitted Norton from the list of those possibly present, and was hesitant about Increase Mather, but a letter of In. Mather to J. Davenport, Hutchinson, Hist. Mass. Bay, ed. 1765, I: 224, shows they were present. See also Dorchester Ch. Records, p. 39. 106 The Half- Way Covenant. [Feb., the written arguments of John Davenport, who as a minister of another colony had of course no place in the Synod. The most fiercely contested of the Propositions in which the body formulated its result was the fifth, which declared that Church-members who were admitted in minority, under- standing the Doctrine of Faith, and publickly professing their assent thereto; not scandalous in life, and solemnly owning the Covenant before the Church, wherein they give up them- selves and their children to the Lord, and subject themselves to the Government of Christ in the Church, their children are to be Baptized.~~* But it causes a little surprise to learn that the third Propo- sition was brought forward by one of the leaders of the minority, possibly Chauncy himself.t It reads The Infant-seed of confederate visible Believers, are mem- bers of the same Church with their parents, and when grown up, are personally under the watch, discipline and Government of that Church.~ IN o wonder that Mitchell could say of this Proposition some think [it] carries the whole cause; and the champion- ing of this view is an illustration of the inconsistency of the position taken throughout the controversy by the opponents of the Half-Way Covenant, an inconsistency which gave them less weight than the general merits of their criticisms deserved. But like the divines of 1657, the majority was not favorable to the admission of any but the personally regenerate to the Lords Supper or a share in the government of the churches. The preface to the Result, prepared by the Committee ap- pointed by the Synod to lay the Propositions before the Court5 thus exhorted the Half-Way members of the churches Break not in upon the Lords Table (or upon the Privi- ledges of full Communion) without due qualification, and orderly admission thereunto, lest you eat and drink your own damnation. Be ordered, and take not upon you to order the * Propositions concerning the Subject of Baptism, etc. [Result of 1662] p. 2. ~ Aiim, Animadversions upon the Anti-Synodalia, p. 13. ~ Propositions, etc., p. 1. Mitchell, Answer to Increase Mathers Apologetical Preface, p. 3, margin. 11892.1 The Half- Way Covenant. 107 affairs of Gods Family; that is not the place of those who are yet but in the state of Initiation and Education in the Church of God.~~* And in their elaboration of the fourth Proposition the Synod declared Though all members of the Church are subjects of Baptism, they and their children, yet all members may not partake of the Lords Supper. . . . Now if persons, even when adult, may be and continue members, and yet be debarred from the Lords Supper, until meet qualifications for the same do appear in them; then may they also (until like qualifications) be debarred from that power of Voting in the Church, which pertains to Males in full communion. It seems not rational that those who are not themselves fit for all Ordinances, should have such an influence referring to all Ordinances, as Voting in Election of Officers, Admission and Censure of Members doth import.t The opposition was voted down by more than seven to one, and the finished result duly reported to the Massachusetts Court. By that body it was ordered to be printed and submitted to the consideration of the churches. The result was the publi- cation of the Propositions within a few weeks by the press at Cambridge, while before the conclusion of the year 1662, an unofficial edition was brought out in London, having as an appendix an answer written by Chauncy. These publications started a flood of controversial pamphlets which must have taxed the capacities of the Cambridge press, though they added little light to the controversy. Davenport was promptly in the field arguing that the new method would open the churches to the unworthy, and with him stood Increase Mather and Nicholas Street. Mitchell, Allin and Richard Mather were as forward to defend the results of the Synod, and with more effect than is usual in such controversies, for the arguments of Mitchell won over Increase Mather, who became, in the suc- ceeding decade, the chief defender of the Synods conclusions. This controversy induced the Massachusetts Court to leave the question to the churches without further interference, and the Half-Way Covenant view, though the popular theory, long met with disapproval among the brethren of many congrega * Propositions, etc., Preface, p. 15. Propositions, etc., p. 18. 108 The Half- Way Covenant. [Feb., tions. Fifty years after the Synod there were still opposing churches in iMlassachusetts.* Connecticut had been silent while Massachusetts had been debating the question in and after the Synod, for Connecticut was trying to effect a union with reluctant New Haven, a colony which Davenports influence had made as much opposed to the Half-Way Covenant as the authorities of Connecticut were in its favor. But agitation had continued and had been increased by problems affecting church polity in general which at last demanded the Courts interference. Soon after his restoration Charles II. had directed the government of Massa- chusetts to allow that all persons of good and honest lives and conversations be admitted to the sacrament of the Lords supper, according to the said booke of common prayer, and their children to baptisme.t A temporizing policy had avoided compliance; but in July, 1664, royal commissioners arrived, and it was felt that their influence would be thrown in favor of a much larger admission to church privilege than the Half-Way Covenant contemplated. Thus emboldened William Pitkin of Hartford, and six other men of respectable position in Connecticut colony, petitioned the General Court in Oct. 1664, representing that though bap- tized members of the Church of England, they were refused communion for themselves and baptism for their children in contradiction of the Kings letter to Massachusetts4 The complaints were substantially like those raised by Childe and his associates in 1646. Like those they were not a request for 1-laif-Way Covenant privileges, but a breach with the whole New England system. They certainly did not originate the Half-Way Covenant movement in Connecticutthat had been going on for nearly a score of years, and probably the petition would never have been offered had it not been for the attitude of the English government. This movement, like that of - How great was the opposition met by even such men as Richard Mather in introducing the practice into their churches, is shown by Increase Mathers Life of Richard Mather, p. 27, and the Dorchester Ch. Records. The Boston First Church did not adopt the practice till 1731. ~ Hutchinson, Collection, p. 379. t The full text is in Stiles Ancient Windsor, ed. 1859, pp. 167, 168. 1892.1 ihe Half- Way Covenant. 109 1646, was not a prime factor in the controversy; bnt like that, it raised qnestions of general church polity which gave renewed prominence to the Half-Way qnestion. The Conrt felt some sympathy for the petitioners, and in October 1664, asked the churches to consider Whither it be not their dnty to enterteine all snch persons, whoe are of an honest and godly connersation, haning a compet- ency of knowledg in the principles of religion, and shall desire to joyne Wth them in chnrch fellowship, by an explicitt con- enant, and that they hane their children baptized, and that all the children of the chnrch be accepted and accotd reall mem- bers of the church.~~* At the same time dissenters were asked to help the Court ~th snch light as is wth them. In the divided state of public opinion such an order could only prodnce further controversy. Adam Blackman and Thomas Hanford, respectively pastors at Stamford and Norwalk, sent to the court a letter of earnest protest. By Jnne 1666 the Hartford church was torn by factions, of which the larger, led by Joseph Haynes the yonnger minister, favored the Half-Way practice; while a strong minority, championed by Hayness colleague, John Whiting, opposed. Similar distnrbances took place in Bran- ford, Stratford and Windsor. No wonder the Connecticnt Court desired a settlement, and therefore in October 1666, it called a Synod to meet at Hartford, May 15, 1667, and discuss seventeen questions pro- pounded by the Court to an issue.t These questions em- braced not only the Half-Way covenant, but problems relating to the share of non-church members in ministerial support; the rights of a town, as a corporation distinct from a church, in the call of a minister; the privileges of members of the Church of England not in covenant with New England churches; and several other matters of great importance. But they never came to discussion in the way planned by the Court. The opponents of the Half-Way Covenant secured first the change of the title of the body to Assembly, then its speedy adjournment, and finally its abandonment, pending * Conn. Records, I. 438. VOL. XX. 9 110 The Ha~f- Way Covenant. [Feb., fruitless negotiations with Massachusetts for a joint council. The Court now recognized the unavailing nature of its attempts, and as a last resort, in May, 1668, appointed a com- mittee of one minister from each of the four counties into which Connecticut was then divided, to Consider of some expedient for our peace . . . how farre the churches and people may walke together . . . notwith- standing some various apprehensions amonge them in matters of discipline respecting membership and baptisme & c.~~* This was a declaration of willingness to admit variety in ecclesiastical practice. The report of the ministers has not been preserved, but it was evidently conciliatory, for in May 1669, the legislature voted in view of it that persons being allso approned according to lawe as orthodox and sownd in the fundamentalls of Christian religion may hane allowance of their perswasion and profession in church wayes or assemblies wthout disturbance.t Here then was the solution of the Half-Way question as far as the government of Connecticut was concerned. Formal toleration was granted to its supporters and opponents alike, and permission for churches hopelessly split on the question to divide. Of this latter privilege the minority in the Hart- ford Church availed themselves at once. In Massachusetts and Connecticut alike the outcome of the struggle was tolera- tion for both views. The Half-Way Covenant had the grow- ing party. Yet the stricter theory was never wholly aban- doned4 Though the first, or more active stage, in the history of the Half-Way movement may be said to have closed in 1669 with the cessation of legislative interference, yet the discussion still continued, and led in the latter part of the seventeenth and the eighteenth centuries to essential modifications of the orig- inal Half-Way theory. That theory, as presented in 1657 and * Conn. Records, II. 84. ~ Ibid., II. 109. ~ Bellamy was able to write in 1~69, Even to this day the [Half- Way] custom is not universal, The Half-Way-Covenant, A Dialogue, p.3. 1892.1 like Half- IFay Covenant. 111 1662, held that oniy children of church members were entitled to baptism, becanse they alone had inherited membership. So too owning the covenant ~~as,in the view of the originators of the practice, a solemn personal acceptance, as far as it lay in a mans power unaided by divine grace, of his place in the visible kingdom of God, and a formal declaration of his inten- tion to do his best to lead a Christian life by association in worship and discipline with the recognized people of God. But during the spiritual declensions of the days of the third and fourth New England generations the original basis of the baptismal right in the pre~xisting membership of the recipient was less insisted upon, though never absolutely forgotten. To oxvn the covenant and to present ones children for baptism became less a solemn claiming of rights already possessed and more an act deemed of value in itself. So it came about that by the time Cotton Mather wrote his Ratio Disciplincc* many ministers admitted all applicants of good moral character to the covenant and their children to baptism without question as to whether the recipients were members by birth or not. This tended vastly more than the original Half-Way practice to cheapen Gospel ordinances. Indeed there is reason to believe that in many places admission to the covenant was looked upon much as signing the pledge has frequently been regarded in our own dayas a means by which large bodies of young people might be induced to start in the right path in life. It was natural that when the barriers which the Ministerial Assembly of 1657 and the Synod of 1662 had erected between the non-church member and baptism were so broken down, that those other obstacles placed by them between the non- regenerate member by birth and the Lords Supper should be often lightly regarded. If a man was member enough to receive one sacrament, why was he not competent to receive the other? So some men reasoned, and the result was Stod- dardeanism, though Stoddard was by no means the originator of the view. Its essence was that it was the duty of all per- sons sincerely desirous of living a Christian life, and who were * Published 1726, Preface dated 1719, see P. 80. 112 The Ha~f- Way Covenant. [Feb., members of the church by birth,* even though not consciously regenerate, to partake of the Supper. Though never adopted by a majority of the New England churches, it was wide- spread in Western Massachusetts and Connecticut during the eighteenth century. These views, lamented by Increase Mather as early as 1677,t and discussed to some extent in the Synod of 16794 find their sharpest expression in the writing of Solomon Stoddard, the able and devout minister at Northampton. In 1700 he pub- lished his Doctrine of In8tituted Churchee, a treatise in which he asserted the desirability of national churches, denied the necessity of local covenants, and claimed that the brethren ought to have no share either in church admissions or govern- ment. But his other departures from the theory of early Con- gregationalism were insignificant in moulding popular thought compared with his declaration regarding the Supper, that this Ordinance is instituted for all the adult Members of the Church who are not scandalous, and therefore must be attended by them; as no Man may neglect Prayer, or hearing the Word, because he cannot do it in Faith, so he may not neglect the Lords Snpper. Increase Mather at once replied to Stoddard, but without eliciting an immediate rejoinder. But Stoddard did not alter his view and in 17078 put it forth once more. Again Mather answered, and in 1709 Stoddard elaborately defended his theory in the Appeal to the Learned. He now asserted This Ordinance [Supper] is according to Institution to be applyed to visible Saints, though Unconverted, therefore it * This restriction is important to observe, the representation being frequent that the Stoddardean view would admit any respectable man to the Supper. t A Call from Heaven To the Present and Succeeding Generations, quoted in Cont. Eccles. Hist. Essex Co., pp. 389, 390. ~ See Stoddard, Appeal to the Learned, pp. 93, 94; and the Appeal of Some of the Unlearned, p. 17. Instituted Churches, p. 21. I Stoddards conception of visible saints was such as make a serious profession of the true Religion, together with those that do descend from them, till rejected of God, Ibid., p. 6. 1892.] The Halj- Way Covenant. 113 is for their Saving good, and consequently for their Conver- sion.~~* These views were a nullification of the conception of a church entertained by the founders of New England; yet the root of Stoddardeanism is to be found in the dual theory of those founders as to church-membership, by experience and by birth. Perhaps the best illustration of the change of feeling which had come over New England regarding the privileges of mem- bership is the statement of Cotton IMlather in the Ratio Dis- c~knce, where he speaks of the Stoddardean view as held by some eminent Pastors (and some of their Churches), and then describes the more conservative theory, defended by his father, that none should be admitted to the Supper but those of Experimental Piety. He declares Indeed there is a Variety both of Jadgment and Practice in the Churches of New-England upon this Matter; However it produces no troublesome Variance or Contention among them.t Fortunately this condition of apathy was not of long dura- tion. The rise of a new type of theology led to an earnest and ultimately successful e~ort to overthrow not only Stod- dardeanism, but the Half-Way Covenant; and the struggle began where Stoddardeanism was most intrenched, at North- amupton. Stoddards successor was his grandson, Jonathan Edwards, who became pastor of the Northampton church, Feb. 15. 172~T. For nearly twenty years after his settlement Ed- wards practiced the system introduced by his grandfather; but he was deeply moved by the revival spirit of the second quarter of the eighteenth century. Till that spirit was felt the prevailing type of theology in New England had for more than fifty years, though essentially Calvinistic, laid great stress on the external means of grace. No sharp distinction was drawn, either in experience or practice between the converted and unconverted. But the revival movements reproduced in large degree the type of preaching and experience which * Appeal, p. 25. ~ Ratio Disciplina~, pp. 84, 85. 114 The Half- Way covenant. [Feb., characterized the Puritans at their exodus from England. Conversion, that is a conscious change in a mans relation to God, was once more insisted on as the test of Christianity. Such an experience is individual, not corporate; and in propor- lion as conscious regeneration was made the standard of trial, the corporate theory of hereditary covenant relationship to God sank into the background. And as nothing short of a distinct sense of reconciliation with Gods plans was held by the revivalists to give ground for a valid Christian hope, the supporters of the revival movement insisted that any depen- dence on means, however good in themselves, was illusory and dangerous. The principles of the school of theology which came out of the revivals were thus of necessity opposed to the Half-Way Covenant, and to the ultimate triumph of that school its destruction was due. Of that school the founder was Jonathan Edwards. Convinced by 1744 that Stoddardean- ism was wrong, Edwards denounced the system to his church in Dec., 1748, and the controversy with his people began which led to his dismission in June, 11750. In the heat of this dis- cussion he published, in Aug., 1749, his Humble Inquiry Concerning the Qualifications Requisite to . . . full Com- munion. The work was primarily an argument against Stod- dardeanism, that being the point under debate between Ed- wards and the Northampton church. But it contained, in a subsidiary paragraph,* a vigorous attack on the Half-Way sys- tem. Rev. Solomon Williams, of Lebanon, Conn., replied, touching of course chiefly on the Stoddardean problem in- volved in the dispute; but in a rejoinder to this reply of Williams, Edwards did not fail to make clear once more his opposition not only to Stoddardeanism, but to the Half-Way Covenant. With this reply the discussion of the subject in print ceased for a number of years; but Edwardss criticisms had their direct fruitage. Probably no disciple more fully shared his views regarding conversion, or was more instrumental in prop- agating them, than Joseph Bellamy, from 1738 to 1790 mm * Pp. 126131. The passage was curiously overlooked by Drs. Fiske and Dexter. See New Englander, xliii. 611. 1892.] like Half- Way Covenant. 115 ister at Bethiem, Coun. On him, and the church under his charge, the effect of Edwardss tracts wa~ decisive. The Beth- lem church records bear witness Upon the publishing of Mr. Edwards Book on the Sacra- ment, this [Half-Way] Practice was laid aside, as not warranted by the holy scripturesthere being no other scriptural owning the covenant, but what implies a profession of Godliness.~~* But in spite of this vote, it was not till nearly twenty years after Edwardss disinission that Bellamy began his public attack on the system. In January, 1769, he published his first Dia- logue. Its homely but vigorous putting of the case attracted immediate attention. Within the next few months three re- plies appeared, two of them of considerable ability and attrib- uted to Rev. Messrs. Ebenezer Devotion of Scotland, Coun., and Nathaniel Taylor of New Milford, Conn. In April Bel- lamy issued a second dialogue, and soon followed it by a third, with which he combined an attack on a Stoddardean treatise on the Visible Church in Covenant with God, recently put forth by Rev. Moses Mather of Darien, Coun. Answers fol- lowed from Devotion, Mather and others; and the fight waxed hotter and more personal, as a fourth dialogue and a new reply to Mather came from Bellamys pen. Meanwhile a second controversy on the same subject was in progress between Jacob Green, an Edwardean pastor at Hanover, New Jersey, and the Stoddardean Rev. George Beckwith of Lyme, Coun. At the same time the question rose to prominence, apparently inde- pendently, in the church at Plymouth, Mass., of which Chand- ler Robbins, a pupil of Bellamy, was pastor. The controversy thus begun continued, though with less fre- quency of publication, throughout the rest of the century. After Bellamy had laid down his pen the battle was waged by Rev. Cyprian Strong, of Portland, Conn., who attacked the system as early as 1780, but whose most powerful work dates from 1793. Strong denied that the children of believers are personally in covenant. Their baptism is not a right, but an act of dedication and a pledge of parental faithfulness. At the same time Rev. Nathauael Emmons of Franklin, Mass., * Cothren, list. Ancient Woodhury, p. 244. 116 like half- Way Covenant. [Feb., and Rev. Stephen West of Stockbridge, Mass., two of the leaders of the school of New Divinity of which Jonathan Edwards was the fonnder, engaged in the attack. From the representatives of the Edwardean theology and its later modi- fications came the overthrow of the system. Able snpporiers of the older type of New England theology, like Rev. Messrs. Joseph Lathrop of West Springfield, Mass., and Moses Hem- menway of Wells, Maine, defended the Half-Way Covenant, and even Stoddardeanism, with vigor during the last decade of the eighteenth century. Bnt the gradual dominance of the idea of conversion held by the representatives of the New Divinity, emphasized by the remarkable series of revivals which begau in the closing years of the last century and lasted well into the present, cansed it to be quietly laid aside. By 1803 the ministers of Central Connecticut had generally, though informally, agreed to discontinne its use. At the Old South Church, Boston, it has never been voted ont, though last administered in 1818, and there is reason to believe that this tacit disuse of the system was not unusual. In Essex County, Mass., it lasted till about 1825; at Windsor, Conn., it was in use as late as 1822; the church at Charlestown, Mass., continued the practice till 1828; while at Marlborough, Mass., it survived till 1831. In its reaction from the religions conceptions of the last century the present age has freqnently represented the Half- Way Covenant movement as a deliberate and successful at- tempt on the part of the unconverted to force themselves into the church for a share in its government or an extension of political rights. To it have been traced most of the later declensions and divisions of New England Congregationalism. But the story of the movement has been told to little purpose if it has not appeared that it was a sincere effort of good men in the churches, led by the majority of the ministers, to main- tain a hold on a great class in the community which seemed slipping away from religious control. It was not an attempt to break into the church from without. The prime motive of its upholders was alway religions; and though unquestionably harmful in its results, especially as modified in the eighteenth century, it is doubtful whether it had nmuch to do with the rise 1892.] [like Half- Way Covenant. 117 of Unitarianism, as has often been charged. Certainly it was prevalent, and that too in its extremest Stoddardean form, in portions of New England which have never inclined to Uni- tarian sentiments. Rather it was a well-meant but mistaken attempt to solve that most difficult of problems, how to reach the serious minded, moral, but non-regenerate members of the community and bring them under the power of the Gospel. Its form arose out of original inconsistencies in the New Eng- land theory of the constitution of a church. but its purpose was always evangelical. WILLIsToN WALKER. 118 Some of ~il~e?I8 W~me~ [Feb.. ARTICLE IiS~ME OF IBSENS WOMEN. IBSEN is, or rather has been, emphatically the champion of, wives and mothers. No other writer since Shakespeare has presented us with so perfect types of womanhood as this bitter INorthern satirist. Society is rotten to the very core, shams~ and deceptions surround us on all sides, men are hypocrites, and our conventionalities are merely a thin veil, to cover the evil from which none are wholly free. But with this gloomy view of the life about him the pessimist unites, in his earlier stage, a passionate regard for good women which to the super- ficial observer seems wholly inconsistent. In reading Ibsen, however, we must remember that he hates not society, but its abuses, not men, but bad men. He th~refore gives due credit to all that is good and pure and noble, and the highest expression of these qualities he seems to have found in woman. With some few exceptions, the men in his dramas are either bad or weak, while the bad women in his earlier plays can be numbered on the fingers. I say in his earlier plays advisedly, for in respect to his female characters, Ibsen has turned about face, and while he still regards his fellowinen with dis- favor, he has in all his later productions extended this whole- sale condemnation to his fellow women as well. The poets present stage of hysterical womanhood (I refer to his heroines, not to Ibsen himself) is as strange as it is melancholy. We can not reconcile ourselves to such a prostitution of genius to the service of modern realism. Hedda Gabler is as remote from the poets earlier heroines as the East is from the West, or rather as the South is from the North. We feel like falling down and worshiping Agnes and Solveig and Margaret, our only feeling toward the wayward, unreasonable iledda is one of exasperation. It is as thongh Shakespeare had taken to writing society plays in the style of Jim the Penman. Withont extending further this lament over what is in my opinion a degeneration of Ibsens art, let us take up in all brevity a few of his woman types, beginning with one of the

118 Some of ~il~e?I8 W~me~ [Feb.. ARTICLE IiS~ME OF IBSENS WOMEN. IBSEN is, or rather has been, emphatically the champion of, wives and mothers. No other writer since Shakespeare has presented us with so perfect types of womanhood as this bitter INorthern satirist. Society is rotten to the very core, shams~ and deceptions surround us on all sides, men are hypocrites, and our conventionalities are merely a thin veil, to cover the evil from which none are wholly free. But with this gloomy view of the life about him the pessimist unites, in his earlier stage, a passionate regard for good women which to the super- ficial observer seems wholly inconsistent. In reading Ibsen, however, we must remember that he hates not society, but its abuses, not men, but bad men. He th~refore gives due credit to all that is good and pure and noble, and the highest expression of these qualities he seems to have found in woman. With some few exceptions, the men in his dramas are either bad or weak, while the bad women in his earlier plays can be numbered on the fingers. I say in his earlier plays advisedly, for in respect to his female characters, Ibsen has turned about face, and while he still regards his fellowinen with dis- favor, he has in all his later productions extended this whole- sale condemnation to his fellow women as well. The poets present stage of hysterical womanhood (I refer to his heroines, not to Ibsen himself) is as strange as it is melancholy. We can not reconcile ourselves to such a prostitution of genius to the service of modern realism. Hedda Gabler is as remote from the poets earlier heroines as the East is from the West, or rather as the South is from the North. We feel like falling down and worshiping Agnes and Solveig and Margaret, our only feeling toward the wayward, unreasonable iledda is one of exasperation. It is as thongh Shakespeare had taken to writing society plays in the style of Jim the Penman. Withont extending further this lament over what is in my opinion a degeneration of Ibsens art, let us take up in all brevity a few of his woman types, beginning with one of the 1892.1 Some of Ib8en8 Women. 119 loveliest of all, Agnes, the heroine of his first dramatic poem, Brand. This character is introduced in the first act, start- ing off on her wedding trip with her young husband, the artist Einar. They both regard life as one long holiday, intended for their special amusement. They are as little northern as one could well imagine; in fact, they seem as if they had stepped out of the canvass of some Italian master, so thor- oughly unreasoning and spontaneous is their joy. The little song in which they give expression to their perfect content- ment is so thoroughly Shakespearian that I cannot resist trans.. lating the first two stanzas, retaining the rhythm and as far as possible the expression of the originals. EINAR. Agnes, my beautiful butterfly, Thee will I playfully capture, Ill fashion a net of meshes fine, The meshes my carols of rapture. AGNES. Am I a butterfly, slender and fine? So let me then sip of the heather; And art thou a youth, who loveth a game, Then chase, but catch me never. And so they exchange their playful banter, leaping from rock to rock, full of the joy in life that few but children know. But a shadow soon falls across their bright path. During their song they have unwittingly approached a preci- pice, from whose danger they are saved by Brands voice calling to them from above. Brand turns out to be an old school friend of Ejuars, but in every respect the exact opposite of the gay painter. In the conversation that follows, we learn the keynote to his character, the strong, unbending will, and the passionate desire to be, not to seem. That which thou art be full and whole, and not in part and separate. This serious view of life does not suit his former associate and they soon separate. But the stern priests influence has already asserted itself over Agnes, to whom the snn seems darkened, the air cold after his departure. The southern gaiety which had seemed to bind her so closely and lovingly to her artist hus 120 Some of Ibsens Women. [Feb., band, was after all only a thin veneer, quickly rubbed off by contact with a really kindred soul. Without tracing the successive steps that induce Agnes to leave Einar and become the wife of Brand, let us pass to the third act, which discloses the couple, now settled in the little mountain parish, in which our unselfish hero hopes to consecrate his life. In the happiness of married life, Agnes forgets all the hardships of the wretched place. Though the sun shines but three weeks in the year, what cares she for other brightness than her husbands smile, her childs laugh? One impending danger, however, fills them both with terror. The fierce winds mean death to Aif, their little boy. They must leave for a warmer clime, the little one must be saved. But no, the priest has vowed to be true to his call. According to his stern creed, he must give all or the gift is of no avail. In a scene of wonderful power, Agnes lends him the support he both craves and dreads, and the little victim is sacrificed. Flow far we can endorse this action on the part of the mother, as a specimen of wifely devotion it is unequalled. Nothing in literature, ancient or modern, can compare with it. Many a woman has given her life to save her husbands, but to offer up what was dearer than life itself to preserve a husbands self-respect, that is something quite different. In the scenes immediately following, the polemicker forgets to preach and probe, merging entirely into the poet. Not a detail is omitted that might serve to bring the sorrowing mother before our eyes. It is so cold out there in the churchyard where the little one lies, and the poor mother lifts the curtain to send a comforting ray of light and warmth over the new-made grave. She cannot bear to think of him lying out there all alone. But Brand is not satisfied that she shou]d have given her child, she must give also every token that may serve to remind her of the grief, which in his eyes interferes with the fulness of the sacrifice. Even this she consents to, but, as she says: He who beholds Jehovah dies. I{er sacrifice is complete, even to death itself. In these scenes, Ibsen reaches the height of iathos. As Brand says: One is tempted to exclaim: Have you been a woman, that you know a womans heart so fully? 1892.] Some of Ibsens Women. 121 But Prof. Boyesens sympathetic account makes comment on my part superfluous. No American can hope to equal that consummate master of Danish translation. The story of Solveig, the heroine of Peer Gynt, is no less pathetic in its way than that of Agnes. As a type of Scandi- navian womanhood, she is perhaps even more interesting than Agnes. Since the poem is comparatively unknown to English readers, a brief account of its plot may not be considered out of place. Peer Gynt has frequently been styled the Northern Faust, and in many respects it resembles the German work, treating of one mans life, and interweaving with the story a wealth of allegory and satire. The hero is introduced as a careless, dreamy youth, the plague of his old mother and the laughing stock of the whole village. He is filled with vague longings to achieve greatness, not by his own efforts, but by some mysterious influence. He stands as the type of the class of men that wish to put reality in the background and live a life of dreams and fancies. The real story begins with Peer Gynts meeting with Sol- veig, an innocent peasant girl, to whom he is immediately attracted. His mad nature, however, induces him to run away. with a former love on the latters wedding day. Soon tiring of this conquest, he leaves her in the mountains to make her way home alone, thereby arousing the indignation of the neigh- borhood. After this escapade, he lives iu the wilderness, where he meets the daughter of the King of the Doore Trolds, by whom he is conducted to her fathers home. Peer is betrothed to the princess and, after a vain endeavor to adapt himself to their ways, he finally escapes with great difficulty. He sees Solveig at the saeter where she is staying with her younger sister, and is joined by her soon after at the rude hut he has himself constructed. His happiness seems complete, when he is one day confronted by the Trold princess, who reminds him of his broken promise and threatens to join him in his new home. Dismayed at this misfortune, the poor coward deserts his wife and sails for America. The fourth act discloses Peer, now a middle aged gentleman of leisure on the shore of Mor- rocco, surrounded by four friends. He has made a huge for- 122 Some of I6sen8 TYomen. [Feb., tune in the States, by various questionable means, and is intent npon carrying out the ambitious dreams of his youth. Of the treacherous conduct of his companions and his subsequent adventures, space will not allow us to speak here. Suffice it to say, that he amasses a second fortune, and returns to Norway an old man. There he seems doomed to the fate he so richly deserves, but, by the intervention of Solveig, who has remained true to him, his soul is saved. The poem is full of satire upon Norway, its exclusiveness and prejudices, and upon the charlatanism which is confined to no particular land. The satire is frequently conveyed in alle- gorical form which, as Brandes truly remarks, is often tiresome and meaningless. In contrast to this stand out the figures of Solveig and of Peer Gynts mother, Ase. The latter is a per- fect type of a Norwegian peasant woman, cross and loving by turns. Allowing herself the privilege of rebuking her wild boy, but denying it to everyone else. She is full of supersti- tious, too, and not a little of Peers dreaminess is due to her early influence. The character is not free from pathos either, the description of her death, with its grim humor, being one of the gems of the piece. The character of Solveig is wholly sweet and noble, a very pattern of loving faithfulness. Her happiness is fleeting, but its memory is as long as life itself. Though utterly unreason- ing, it is thoroughly womanly. She forsakes home, friends, everything for a shadow, and years after the cruel desertion she is able to say in answer to Peers question? Where was I, with Gods mark upon my temple ? In my faith, in my hope and in my love. We almost forget our contempt for Peer Gynt in our admiration of such faithfulness. Surely there must be some good in a man that can inspire this deep love. In strongest contrast to this unquestioning affection we have the all-demanding love of Ibsens later heroine, ~ ora. I have heard that invitations to literary companies in Boston are always accompanied with a hint that no mention of The Dolls House will be permitted. A criticism of any portion of this play would, therefore, seem to be almost too severe a test of my readers patience. As my treatment, however, will .Some~ 4f~ Tbsen8 Wo~men. 123 bei purely comparative; the comment tnay~ perhaps be allowed to pass anchallengcd. As we have seeti, Solveig demands nothing from her husband, not even his love. Nora is satisfied with nothing short of complete confidence. The one is a poetical character, the other is thoroughly modern and realistic. Solveig might have figured in~ one of BJorhsens peasant tales, Nora is cosmopolitan, a cr~atureof modern thought and action. Furthermore, the form and character of the two plays demand this difference in the heroiiies. While Peer Gynt, as a whole, is as much a polemic a~ The Dolls House, the hero- ine forms no pa~rt of the pbkmic. In the fourth act, in which Ibsen gives free reign to his st~tirical fancy, she does not appear at all, and in the fifth act she is introduced only at the very close. Her relations to Peer Gynt form merely an idyllic ePisode eiiiph~sizingf,to be sure, the latters egoism, but not. being directly concerned with its further development. The hero, in his conversation with his four friends, refers to the Trold Princess, but never once to Solveig. This woman is therefore a purely poetical creation, with none of the heart- searching of which the poet is otherwise so fond. iNora, on the other hand, is the central figure of The Dolls House, about whom all the action revolves. It is possible that in the contrast between Agnes sudden transformation from the thoughtless girl to the serious, conscientious woman, under the influence of Brand, we see a foreshadowing of Ibsens later treatment of the marital relations, but in Peer Gynt there is not a trace of this intention. To my mind, this total absence of the didactic and ethical in the treatment of Solveigs love constitutes the main charm of the character. The heroine of a romance should not be treated as a subject for the dissecting table. There must be some spontaneity, a certain absence of logic in order that our full sympathies may be enlisted. In this brief study, I have not referred to Brands mother, one of the few repulsive female characters in Ibsens earlier works. She is a sort of female Shylock, without, however, the saving qualities of revenge and domestic love possessed by the Shakespearian character. Not even the presence of her husbands dead body can restrain her feverish lust for gold. 124 Some of Ibsen 8 Women. [Feb., Everything is sacrificed to the one appetite, and at the end it triumphs even over her religious terrors, bidding her refuse the spiritual ministrations of her son rather than sacrifice all her wealth. We find a special reason for her introduction in making more intelligible the development of Brands charac~ ter and in illustrating his stern creed. IReared in a loveless home, his tenderer sympathies were almost completely choked. The abnormal development of his will, too, and the unnatural consistency of his religious views are undoubtedly regarded by Thsen as a direct inheritance of his mothers diseased nature, turned in a different and more noble channel. We may note here that Brands mother is the only important character in Ibsens plays that is not referred to by name. She is a type rather than an individual. DANIEL KILHAM DODGE 1892.1 Apologetics in the Pulpit. 125 ARTICLE 111.APOLOGETICS IN THE PULPITA CON FERENCE ADDRESS. THERE 1S no place in the pulpit for apology in the ordinary sense of that word. We conceive the apologist, as one who has a doubtful, possibly a bad cause to maintain, and we asso- ciate with him a certain timidity of appearance, an attitude half of defense and half of excuse, and a success at least ambiguous. No such ideas are to be associated with the Chris- tian preacher. He represents the one perfectly pure and ben- eficent force in the world, the supreme interest of men, a cause which is nothing new or doubtful, which has been going on for 1800 years to an ever-widening victory, and which ex- cludes every fear in its behalf. He may fear for himself, or he may have causes in his own heart or life which might lead to apology, but in his presentation of the gospel, he is to cast all this aside and to speak out in the full consciousness of the dignity and benignity of his message. To do anything else is to fall short of his privileges and of his duty. Nor, when its meaning is rightly conceived, as the orderly defense of the Christian system in argument before its oppo- nents, is apology to form the staple of the preaching of the pulpit. No army ever won a campaign by purely defensive tactics. D3fense is good, and the repelling of error is good, but there must be advance in war, and there must be the sup- ply of positive truth, the presentation of actual motives, the gaining of an influence upon the wills of men, and the success which springs out of the development of activities in the minds of men, if the pulpit is to accomplish any large thing. And hence apology must be relegated to its proper place, which is never the principal place, in the ministrations of the pulpit. Yet, in a proper sense, and at a proper time, apology has a place in the pulpit. There are real difficulties in respect to Christian trnths, and that too, the most fundamental and im- portant of them, which perplex the Christian as well as impede VOL. XX. 10 I

1892.1 Apologetics in the Pulpit. 125 ARTICLE 111.APOLOGETICS IN THE PULPITA CON FERENCE ADDRESS. THERE 1S no place in the pulpit for apology in the ordinary sense of that word. We conceive the apologist, as one who has a doubtful, possibly a bad cause to maintain, and we asso- ciate with him a certain timidity of appearance, an attitude half of defense and half of excuse, and a success at least ambiguous. No such ideas are to be associated with the Chris- tian preacher. He represents the one perfectly pure and ben- eficent force in the world, the supreme interest of men, a cause which is nothing new or doubtful, which has been going on for 1800 years to an ever-widening victory, and which ex- cludes every fear in its behalf. He may fear for himself, or he may have causes in his own heart or life which might lead to apology, but in his presentation of the gospel, he is to cast all this aside and to speak out in the full consciousness of the dignity and benignity of his message. To do anything else is to fall short of his privileges and of his duty. Nor, when its meaning is rightly conceived, as the orderly defense of the Christian system in argument before its oppo- nents, is apology to form the staple of the preaching of the pulpit. No army ever won a campaign by purely defensive tactics. D3fense is good, and the repelling of error is good, but there must be advance in war, and there must be the sup- ply of positive truth, the presentation of actual motives, the gaining of an influence upon the wills of men, and the success which springs out of the development of activities in the minds of men, if the pulpit is to accomplish any large thing. And hence apology must be relegated to its proper place, which is never the principal place, in the ministrations of the pulpit. Yet, in a proper sense, and at a proper time, apology has a place in the pulpit. There are real difficulties in respect to Christian trnths, and that too, the most fundamental and im- portant of them, which perplex the Christian as well as impede VOL. XX. 10 I 126 Apologetics in the Pulpit. [Feb., the progress of the unbeliever towards the truth. And hence for two reasons, for the confirmation of the faith of the church itself, and for the help of the world, attention needs to be paid to the difficulties of men. It is a mistake to believe that iu this busy and skeptical age, when the church touches the world at so many points, aud the force of the ideas which rule in the world is so constantly pressing upon the minds of Christians, no effect against which it is of importance for us to be upon our guard, will be produced upon the repose and perfect Chris- tian certainty of even true and intelligent believers. Many are led to think miracles a great burden upon the church rather than its weapon, by the constant affirmation of science (thus self-styled) that a miracle is an impossibility. A gradual neg- lect of the Old Testament by many rests upon the idea that its integrity has been disproved. Disrelish of the hard doctrines of the gospel often proceeds from the subtle operation of the denial of the atonement by the world and worldly Christians~ All these tendencies need to be corrected, and the wise minis- ter, seeing in one case which he discovers the type of others, will bring the matter to that place where he exerts his great and controlling influence, to the pulpit. And thus apology will to some extent enter into his ministrations. Now, when the apologetic treatment of some Christian doc- trine has been decided upon, it is of great importance that the preacher should proceed with caution and that the total iinpres- sion should be favorable to his cause,a result difficdlt to secure. So difficult is it, that I propose to devote with your permission, this discussion to CERTAIN CAUTIONARY REMARKS UPON THE CONDUCT OF APOL- OGETIC IPREACHING. 1. As to the manner of the discussion. This should be calm. The apologist must give the impres- sion to others that he himself is not disturbed by the problem which he is discussing before his people, and to this, calmness of demeanor, and what is more importani, calmness and delib- eratioil of argumentation, are absolutely necessary. Jerkiness of style, disorder of arguments, appeals and exhortations, rhet- orical flourishes aud melodramatic situations, are all to be 1892.] Apologetic8 in the Pu~pit. 127 avoided, because they convey the idea of haste and disturbance. The speaker will not convince who is, or appears to be, in doubt himself. It should also be candid. You must not only meet your adversary, but you, must seem to him to meet him. You must not only see the force of his arguments, but so evidently appreciate them that when you have stated them, there will be no opportunity to say that the other side has not been fairly dealt with, or but half represented in the debate. And above all,though this is so elementary a thought, that I hesi- tate to mention it,there must be no failure to admit all that can be rightly said upon the other side, or to give credit for whatever of good there may be in the purposes or the words of the opponent. If the adversary can say, whoever he was opposing, it was not I, and I remain untouched; or if he can say, the preacher neither understood me nor tried to do so; you will have spent your labor in vain so far as he and all who hear him are concerned. It should be also objective, i. e., should confine itself to tangible arguments and facts, leaving the region of motives out of the account. The adversary of the Christian faith has the right to be regarded as honest, and treated upon the basis of the value of what he presents, to be grappled with in a manly and honest combat, and the apologist will consult the interests of his own cause by doing this. Objections should also be stated, as far as possible, in the language of those who make them, which prevents the suspicion of garbling and misrepresentation. Not what the preacher thinks, or sup- poses, but what he sees and can present untouched by his own personality, should form the object of his consideration. It should be strong. The preacher must prove his case, or he had better let the subject alone. But he must also prove it so that it will seem proved, so that it will convey the impression of vigor, of unanswerableness, and of power. ~Strength belongs often to manner as much as to matter. Do not only be strong, but seem so. And it should be sympathetic. It should see what is really good in the opponent, and thus sympathize with him; which is an intellectual sympathy. But it should also be filled with 128 Apologetics in the Pulpit. [Feb., sincere pity for the erring man, and with the ministerial spirit of the great Minister to souls, who never rebuked but with the desire to save, and who at last wept over that Jerusalem which he had sternly rebuked, but which he had thus only been seeking to gather as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings. On this branch of my subject, I am sure, I do not need to dwell. I pass therefore to the more important caution which I wish to emphasize. 2. As to the source of the argument. (1) This may be drawn from natural science in part. Many of the most striking of modern objections are drawn from science; and yet science, which is the study of the works of God, when profoundly pursued, does not contradict but rather confirms the truth of God in other realms, including the spiritual. This is almost a platitude among us. But I repeat it that I may pass to the caution which I wish to utter here, that the preacher be sure that he has understood both the scientific objection and the true scientific reply before he attempt to draw this bow. If you cannot bend it, Penelope will be sure to see that you are no Ulysses. There is a line of popular apology much favored at present which is likely to react upon the Christian faith to its detri- ment, the line, namely, pursued by Drummond in his Natural law in the Spiritual World. Close analysis will show that that argument is not drawn from the analogies which subsist between the natural and the spiritual, but from an assumed identity between them. Now there are striking analogies between the two worlds, as is not strange, since they evidently proceed from the hands of one maker. These may be fruit- ful in illustrative quality, and may often light up a sphere into which illumination reaches from no other quarter. But there cannot be an identity of law in the two spheres, since law is a method of operation, and if two entities are acted upon in methods altogether the same, they must themselves be altogether the same, or else there would be at some point a difference of reaction to the operative force, involving a differ- ence of law. But matter and mind are not identical. To make them such is to proclaim materialism, and materialism is 1892.1 Apoloqetic8 in the Pulpit. 12~Y materialism, whether it be preached ignorantly by a Christian minister, or be knowingly advocated by an enemy of the truth of Christ. Materialism is the great opponent of Christianity in every age of the chnrch from the beginning. It is the antithesis of Christianity, for God is a spirit, and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth. It will make little difference if the preacher has drawn from iDrum- mond or from Spencer; his thought, where it has any deep effect will work materialistic results if it be materialism, and where it has none but a superficial effect it will be for designed results as inoperative as for undesigned, that is, the preacher will have failed. Analogies drawn from life need also to be handled with care. It is often said that we must have a vital Christianity. True, but what do you mean precisely? The objection has sometimes been made to the governmental theory of the atone- ment that it is drawn from the analogy of government, whereas the analogy of life is more instructive. But it should be re- membered that life is a physical thing, and proceeds within the realm of natural forces, that it is nuder the control of force, whereas government is not an analogy but a fact, and is moral, that is conducted by influence exerted upon. free wills, which is something spiritual, and far higher than physical force. There are analogies from life which are good; but those which are drawn from the particulars in which life departs from its likeness to the spiritual, are mischievous and only such. Thus to say that forgiving sin without an atonement can never break down the government of God, since, no matter what the sin- ners may do, the government of God stands, is to make that government one of force, and to destroy at bottom its moral character. If any soul for a sound reason should rebel against God,and there would be a sound reason, if God exhibited himself as indifferent to the guilt of sin,the moral govern- ment of God would be de8troyed, that is, his power rightly to influence a soul to obedience would be gone forever. Anal- ogies from life~ which forget this are only harmful. Or (2) the argument may be drawn from Christian history. This is one of the most fruitful fields of effective apology, though it requires a large degree of what may be called erudi 130 Apologetics in the Pulpit. [Feb., tion to employ historical apology successfully. Permit me, since my own special studies lie in this direction, to dwell upon this portion of my theme more at length than would otherwise be appropriate. (a) The permanence of Christianity, when rightly handled, is an argument of great power. Here is an acute thinker of the present day who can see no truth in the leading ideas of the church. He must acknowledge, if he be candid, that his own ideas are imperfect, and that they will give way as time rolls on, to others, as systems have ever succeeded one another without making a permanent lodgment in human thonght, from hoary antiquity to the present day. There is no fact more plain or more significant than that of the transitoriness of philosophical systems. Yet amid all this, amid the succes- sion of pantheistic, deistic, atheistic systems, the church has gone on her way unmoved, and taught the same doctrine of one personal and infinite God from the beginning, which she teaches to-day. That singular phenomenon has a cause~ which is either the superior evidence of the doctrine, or the presence of a supernatural teaching power in the church which warrants it. I wish to give my testimony, after some years spent in the study of the history of Christian doctrine, that the most im- pressive fact to me in the church is not the existence of differ- ences as to minor points, but of agreement as to the fundamen- tal points of the Christian scheme. Let this great perpetual testimony of the church to the truth be once clearly placed before the mind of a candid doubter, and its power cannot fail to be felt. As an illustration of the argument from the permanence of the church let me dwell a little upon the argument from the Christian persecutions. The constancy of the Christian mar- tyrs of the early ages was remarbable. Blandina, a slave in Gaul, was tortured all of one day with everything which her persecutors could think of, to make her give the false testi- mony that there were evil practices among the Christains; but without success. The Christians referred their constancy to the presence and help of the living Saviour. Now, they were either right, or under the power of a very strong delusion. But a delusion does not endure for ages, and Christian mar- 1892.] Apologetics in the Pulpit. 131 tyrs, whose description of their experiences are the same, are to be found in every Christian century, including our own, yes, the past decade of our own. A delusion does not em- brace at the same time, and for successive periods, different climates, different races, different civilizations, and occupy both sexes and all ages; but such is the prevalence of the Christian delusion, if it be a delusion. The massiveness, the permanence, the magnitude of the Christian testimony given to the power of religion, are the decisive, the overwhelmiug elements of the argument; and when they are presented by one who understands how to wield them, there is no answer. It was only by belittling and disguising the facts that Gibbon was ever able to make for an instant the impression of having evacuated the force of this argument. (b) Again, most of the moderu arguments against Chris- tianity are really very ancient. I know that modern science is a new thing, but the mind of man is not new, and was as acute in the year 150 as it is to-day. An amusing instance of the identity of some ancient with some modern objections to Christianity occurred in my own experience a year or two since. I was walking one summer day in a New England town with a young, highly educated, and acute physician, who was discussing the doctrine of the resurrection. Said he: it is quite difficult to imagine how, in any sense, the bodies of the dead can be said to be raised, since under the operation of the laws of nature, the roots of the grass often penetrate their mould, particles of matter from the dead are absorbed into the substance of the plant, pass into the bodies of beasts which are used for food, and are thus incorporated into the bodies of other men, who in their turn die. Now, to which one of several men in whose bodies at their death it was successively found will some particular particle of matter belong ~ That certainly sounds modern; and I have taken pains to recall as exactly as possible the precise words used. But on my return to my duties in Oberlin, I read the following fall, in the regular course of my work with my classes, the following passage from Athenagoras, who wrote about the year iTT A. D. When animals of the kind suitable for human food, which have fed upon the bodies of men, pass through their 132 Apoleqetics in the Pulpit. [Feb., stomachs and become incorporated with the bodies of those who partake of them, it is an absolute necessity, they say [viz: the heathen objectors], that the parts of the bodies of the men which have served as nourishment to the animals which have partaken of them, should pass into the bodies of other men, since the animals which have meantime been nourished by them, convey the nutriment derived from those by whom they were nourished, into those men of whom they become the nutriment. . . . And from these things they establish, as they suppose, the impossibility of the resurrection, on the ground that the same parts cannot rise again with one set of bodies, and with another as well ! This, as you perceive, is the pre- cise argument presented to me again in the year 1888 by my New England friend. Now when it is shown that these arguments have been brought np over and over again, and always rejected as not meeting the case, the rational argument against them receives a re~nforceiuent, which, whether properly or not, exerts a pro- digious influence; and in my opinion its influence is healthful and proper. (c) Then again, the arguments presented by many of the Christian writers from age to age, are perfectly conclusive and cannot be improved. When the preacher draws upon this vast store of accumnlated treasures, he is like a king going out to war with all the accumulated riches of a great and prosper- ous nation at his back. It is better to go to school to the teachers of all ages than to any one man, no matter how great his power and how keen his mind. It is better to have Augustine, and Calvin, and iMlelanethon, and Owen, and Bax- ter, and Hengstenberg, and Tholuck, and Luthardt, and But- ler, and Chalmers, and Flint, and Edwards, and Taylor, and Finney, than to rely upon either lodge, or Smith, or Woods alone. And this acquaintance with the great teachers we gain from Christain history. (d) And further, history shows us the futility of the efforts to build up a system of religion by the natural reason alone. Contemporaneous history is full of these attempts, as we all know. It is their existence which calls forth the Christian apology. Each one of them thinks itself the successful sys. 1892.1 Apoloaeties in the Pulpit. 133 tern, and can give abundant reasons why its neighbor was ever predestined to fai]ure. But in fact, it is not modern science or philosophy which has first led men to invent systems. Antedating even Christianity, there were blind efforts after a solution of the problems of the universe, particularly that of evil, which were keen, subtile, poetic, imposing, and for a time remarkably successful. I refer to Gnosticism, IMlanichae- ism, etc. They were the welding into one system of thoughts derived from the hoary Orient, and from the philosophies of Greece. They are proofs of the fact that Greece had not been able by searching to find out God, and when they failed, they proved again that all antiquity, by a united effort, had only secured more indubitable failure. Meantime the church, amidst the collapse of philosophy and guosis, was moving on tranquilly to take possession of territories which had never seen even the dim light of philosophy, and was stretching her peaceful conquests from the Indus to the Clyde. When, later, the church came out, in the time of the great Reformation, into a larger knowledge of the truth, human reason sought again to find something better than the gospel. Hindered at first, as it was in the person of Servetus, by unjus- tifiable means, diverted, as it was in the Socinian movement, into a remote and uninfinential part of Europe, it at last ap- peared in Germany at the middle of the last century, and for seventy years thought itself swimming with the high tide of of illumination. But German Rationalism has changed its form a hundred times and is to-day thoroughly discredited in all its early claims, and its favorite word illumination~~ only provokes a smile upon the lips of those even who now repre- sent the same tendency of thought. I might speak of Latitu- dinarianism in England and Unitarianism in our own country, of flume and Hegel in the philosophic sphere, and the same would have to be repeated with only a change of names. And yet, amid all this, even in the deepest decline, the Christian church has preserved her identity, and has come forth substan- tially unharmed from all attacks, and maintains her old doc- trines as before. What is of more importance, she does her old work. As an objective fact, all theories aside, she gives peace to multitudes of souls who have found no peace in the promises or assurances of men. 134 Apologetic8 in the Pulpit. [Feb., Now, this perpetual contrast between the dying philosophies on the one side, and the living church on the other, is an argu- ment which he who runs may read, and he who. studies will wonder at, and for which he will adore God, even the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. (3) A third source of apology is the philosophy of common sense. We have left the Scotch school, with its universal beliefs somewhat behind in the progress of modern philoso- phy; and yet there were certain features of its work which will never die, and which are specially adapted to the peculiar conditions under which the pulpit works. The fundamental distinction between mind and matter is proved by the most elaborate discussions of development hypotheses no better, and indeed no otherwise, than by the drastic illustration of the impossibility of running a railroad train from the northeast to the southwest corner on the mind a proof in which Pro- fessor Bowen used to delight. It is the appeal to the con- sciousness of every man which declares unmistakably, and as plainly to the unlettered as to the philosopher, that mind is totally different from matter. It will be well, of course, for the ministers to understand as much of the best recent speculation as his time and strength will suffer him to master. His training should be such as would enable him to take delight in difficult studies. ]?e8 ~evera ~ya~idium veruni: difficulty increases delight. But evidently technical terms, abstruse speculations, subtile dis- criminations, have no place in popular discourse before miscel- laneous audiences. The art of the preacher consists in trans- lating all he learns from the profoundest books into the lan- guage of the people, or into the terminology of that philosophy of common sense, which is the only one he can use, and which is extensive and cogent enough for all his needs. Yet at this point comes the necessity of caution. The preacher must avoid giving the impression that he rests his entire case upon the arguments drawn from philosophy. This is not true, and it is never wise to be false. But it is also not wise because it empties the argument itself of force. Let the argument from some principle of causation be regarded as the entire support of the case, let the preacher stand upon the 1892.] Apologetics in the Pulpit. 135 same level as a Spencer or an Ingersoll, and suspicion will be aroused in the minds of the discriminating which will lead to a scrutiny of the argument fatal to it. It will be seen that it is no more conclusive than thousands of other arguments have seemed to those who trusted them, which we to-day must reject. In other words, human reason has made so many failures in the progress of time that she, with the greatest reason, profoundly distrusts herself. Plato, Aristotle, Abelard, Aquinas, Lombard, Descartes, Spinoza, Leibnitz, Wolf, Kant, Fichte, Hegel, Lotze, flume, iReid, Hamilton, lMIill,what are these but names of men who have successively received the adulations of their followers and then been compelled to give way to other teachers, who have often taught the precise opposite of all they had endeavored to establish? No! The Christian minister does not, as a fact, stand alone like a philosopher, depending solely upon his own wits to prove his case. He stands in the midst of the church, which knows whereof it affirms, and he speaks by the common con- sent of many who have the same convictions which he has, which are founded upon divine operations in their hearts. Hence he must avail himself of this common witness as a source of apology; and this leads me to remark: (4) That Christian experience is still another source of apol- ogetic argument. The greatest truths of Christianity pertain to the new life which the Christian feels within him. Of this he is able to bear witness, and this ought to be as credible to the unconverted as the testimony which is borne to the nature and inhabitants of a land from which some Stanley has just returned. The testimony of the Christian can be urged as to things which the critic of Christianity says he knows nothing about, and which he is therefore inclined to deny, but which the Christian affirms on the ground of an experience which ho claims to have had. Now, as in the case of persecutions, the Christian testimony to spiritual truths extends over many periods of time, embraces both sexes and all ages, and is so harmonions ~mid all the diversities which difference of climes and conditions have produced, that by its massiveness and magnitude it is fitted to make an extraordinary impression. Nothing but unskillful handling of it, can rob it of this power. 136 Apologetics in the Pulpit. [Feb., Yet it need not be altogether blind testimony. It need not be shronded in mystery, as thongh it required a sixth sense for its understanding or reception, or as if the Christian life were a series of constant miracles. This is the mistake which some make in using it. On the contrary, thongh the contents of Christian experience must be had to be fnlly known, yet how they are attained may be made clear to any one. My present attitnde of will, the character of ray prevailing choices, is as fully known to me when I am a Christian, as when I am not. The Christian has the common human consciousness. The unconverted man cannot find within himself any steady or prevailing choice to do right, on every occasion, because it is right, withont regard to selfish interests. The lack of that choice is a fact of consciousness. Yet the existence of other prevailing choices, as for example, to go regularly to his busi- ness, is a matter of consciousness; and hence the unconverted man and the skeptic may be convinced that it is possible to have the consciousness of a prevailing choice of the right. Now the Christian comes forward and says he has that con- sciousness. That is testimony, the reasonableness of which appeals to every hearer. Next, as to its origin. The Chris- tian claims that he was not conscious, before he formed it, of any tendency towards it which can explain its origin. That again is clear to any one. The unconverted skeptic and ob- jector is conscions of no tendency towards it. Then the Christian affirms that he does not perceive in the world, with all its best tendencies anything adapted to prodnce this choice. Neither does the skeptic. And when the Christian says, I conclude that so fundamental and holy a choice is the agency of an infinite and a holy power, to which I give the name of God, the skeptic can see that the inference is natural and easy, as well as any one. Thus the densest darkness hanging about Christian experi- ences can be cleared np for the unbeliever, and the way opened for the exertion of the full power of Christian testi- mony upon his mind. The danger to which the argument from Christian experi- ence is exposed is snbjectivity. It may seem so to you, the objector says, but it does not seem so to me. Against mak 1892.1 Apologetic8 in the Pulpit. 137 ing such an impression the preacher cannot be too much upon his guard. He must always say, rather, II see certain things, which you yourself confess II might, so far as the nature of things is concerned, see. Now admit that I do see them and you can test for yourself the reasonability of my conclusions from them. Such an argument runs no risk of the sort feared, and may be as objective as any other. But I must hasten on to the final topic upon which I wish to make certain cautionary suggestions. 3. As to the subjects to be treated. (a) The most fundamental of these is the existence of a per- sonal God. The great tendency of the age is to pantheism, sometimes of the gross type, as in the pantheistic schools of IDarwinism, and sometimes in the shape of a refined and Anglicized Hegelianism. This is an unconscious tendency of ien, but a real one, and much promoted by the sharp philo- sophical criticism of the arguments for a personal God which Kant and his successors have made. In meeting this form of skepticism, the Christian preacher should take care to give Christianity full credit for what it has done in respect to proving the existence of an infinite, personal Spirit. This may seem a strange caution; but it is necessary, though Christian preachers may not think them- selves in danger of belittling the cause which is nearest to their hearts. A survival of the rationalism by which we have long sought to meet unbelievers, may still lead the apologist to take the untenable position that the existence of God may be absolutely proved by reason alone. The truth is that the proof of the existence of God has grown up under the influ- ences of Christianity, and owes more to that by far than it does to the natural reason. As a matter of fact, though a higher power is clearly seen, and though duty is recognized by man without the gospel, the full doctrine of God was never known to any philosopher or divine outside of the circle of Christianity and Judaism. Let the preacher, then, start boldly from this Christian posi- tion. You, unbelievers, have long tried to gain a knowledge of the ultimate forces of the universe, and you have failed. Take now this Christian idea of God, as the infinite Father, 138 Apologetic8 in the Pulpit. [Feb., and try it by all the accumulated results of right thinking, and see if it is not reasonable. When the various proofs of God from causation, from the aspirations of man, and from every other source, have been fully explained and massed in a column of convincing ratiocination, under the guidance of the Christian idea, all appears reasonable and satisfying. By mak- ing the office of the Christian religion in giving us the idea prominent, the apologist will have accomplished two results. He will, on the one hand, have proved his case more convinc- ingly, and, on the other, he will have given an additional argument of great force for the Christian system as a whole. If it alone, of all the attempts of history, has found so lofty and reasonable a conception of God, it must itself come from a source higher than unaided reason, even that God himself. Such is the certain impression upon any thinking hearer. (6) A second topic demanding great attention in our day is the integrity of the Bible. Several schools of thinkers are discussing it, and some have succeeded to their own satisfaction in dismembering it, and reducing it from a library, to a mere collection of unintelIi~ible fragments. But the Bible is the Christian religion, as was remarked long ago, and i~ must not be given np to such disfigurement. How shall the sound re- sults of genuine historical criticism be employed and how shall the Bible be defended against real dangers? Now, evidently, the details of the matter cannot be discussed before mixed congregations. The priest-codex, the first editor, the Jehovist, the second editor, etc., are terms which we cannot introduce into the pulpit, and comparisons of the two docu- ments with which Genesis begins, cannot be made in public, nor the minute distinctions upon which many an argument turns, be explained to the mass of our congregations. Yet it is equally evident that the great prejudice which such critics as Wellhausen have against the supernatural, or to speak more literally, the dependence of their argument upon a denial of the supernatural, can be made plain, and will, when fully appreciated, rob their long investigations of any interest in the mind of the well established Christian, and discredit their con- clusions in advance. And here a great incidental benefit will be attained. Everything which tends to emphasize the reality of the supernatural tends directly to increase the religious life 1892.] Apologetw8 in the Pulpit. 139 of the church. Make the Christian feel more strongly the fact that God is at work in the world for mens salvation, as he will if he considers his own convictions upon the subject long, and his love will be quickened, his consecration deepened. A general line of defense may be derived from the testi- mony of Christian experience. Religion is an objective fact, which the nnbeliever must acknowledge. Here, for example, are churches in existence, which are exceedingly tangible facts. Here are Y. M. C. Associations, which cover the land: In these institutions the truths of the Bible are used every day with the result of turning men from wickedness to purity and holiness. Can the unbeliever deny the inference that the Bible does exercise supernatural power, and is therefore of God? Not if he accepts the Christian testimony as to the reality of the new birth. In, through, and under all the attacks which skeptics have been making upon the Bible for the past 150 years, the church has gone on using her Bible with increasing success. It would seem that this piece of gospel ordnance were only hardened into tougher consistency and only made more effective by all the blows which have been poured upon it. It has the divine power of survival, and it seems to exhihit its fitness for service thereby. The great argument for the unity of the Bible and also for its truth and divine authority is the unity of its doctrines, and their immediate evidence to the believer. Now, such an evi- dence exists, whether susceptible of clear explanation or not. The mass of Christians do not receive the Bible upon the ground that its integrity and authenticity had been proved to them, nor upon the authority of the church, or of Christian parents. They see the truth of the Bible to be the truth. They have entered into the kingdom of God by faith, and they see spiritual truths. In the words of an old confession, now much talked against: Our full persuasion and assurance of the infallible truth and divine authority of the Holy Scrip- ture is from the inward work of the Holy Spirit, bearing wit- ness by and with the word in our hearts. Here again the witness of the church may be employed as a source of argu- ment. To a man who gives himself in complete surrender to God, these things which appear hard and difficult to you, unbe- lieving friend, are easy and plain. Come and see I 140 Apologetics in the Pulpit. [Feb., My task is now completed; but I shall have done little if I have not already left the impression which I would only deepen in these closing words. The Christian apologist, if he will be successful, must himself be a man of strong faith, of clear vision, and of mighty grasp upon the truths of the unseen world. He must be so filled with the spirit of Christ, and must have drunk so deep at the fountain of divine truth, that the living Redeemer shall be a constant reality to him, and the eternal verities of revealed religion as certain as the more tangible but less real facts of this temporal existence. If he has not this prime qualification, he will, I have said, be likely to labor in vain. IDe Wette, after a life devoted to the study and teaching of theology, gave utterance to this lament I fell on times with contest rife, The faith was lost, all union broken; I mingled rashly in the strife, T was vain! as had I never spoken.* * Ich fiel in eine wirre Zeit, Die Glaubenseintraclit war vernichtet; Ich mischte mich mit in den Streit, Umsonst! Icli hab ihn nicht geschlichtet. It briefly describes his whole life. He came at the end of the downward course of German theology, when the faith of the church had been largely lost, but he himself had too little to be of any essential service to others. Without firm hold upon the inspiration of the Scriptures, he gave himself to their ex- position; but he could not inspire faith and kindle devotion by his labor. Without faith in the fundamental doctrines of the church, he wrote a system of Christian doctrines; but devital- ized as it was by his rationalism, it convinced no one, enlight- ened none. When all was done, and his life drew near its close, he saw that he had spoken no word suited to his times. So will it be with him who, from real sympathy with un- belief, or from timidity or other cause, tries to defend Chris- tianity by presenting some substitute for it. The preacher should be full of the truth, and then he can impart what he himself possesses; but out of broken cisterns no water of salvation will ever flow. FRANK HUGH FosTER. 1892.] In Early September with the Birds. 141 ARTICLE P1.IN EARLY SEPTEMBER WITH THE BIRDS. IT is singular how silent the birds become after a certain date in August. I go out one day, and the air is alive with voices. I pass a week, and when I re~nter the woods only the chirping of the crickets and the occasional call of the crow breaks the silence of the long green aisles. It is the reaction that succeeds to the tumult of love and the toils of incubation the lull that precedes the departure for their winter haunts, like the hush of a chorus when the climax of a tragedy is about to be disclosed. Entering the woods this morning my ears are greeted by the gentle chirp of a swarm of warblers at work among the beech boughs. They flit from point to point of the upper branches, and are apparently the only feathered thing in evidence except a pair of nut-hatches which I startled from the trnnk of a maple beside the road. I push deeper into the woods, how- ever, and have scarcely seated myself upon a log when the swink~~ of the rose-breasted grosbeak reaches me across the swamp. Apparently he is somewhere in the bramble-patch beyond; for a catbird that I see among the alders begins to answer him, and the two keep up a desultory duet of question- ings and callings, to which later a second grosbeak adds an occasional note. But the performance lacks the spontaneity and vivacity of the earlier season; it is modulated, subdued, self-conscious; and its tone is slightly melancholy, in keeping with the impression of the hour. While passing through this part of the woods recently I caught a glimpse of a pair of golden-crowned thrushes, or oven-birds, as they flitted hurriedly from one thicket to an- other. They had been at work among the decaying flakes of a huge hemlock that lay prone beside the cattle-path, and were startled by my approach. I leave the grosbeaks, therefore, and turn my steps in that direction. voL. xx. 11

1892.] In Early September with the Birds. 141 ARTICLE P1.IN EARLY SEPTEMBER WITH THE BIRDS. IT is singular how silent the birds become after a certain date in August. I go out one day, and the air is alive with voices. I pass a week, and when I re~nter the woods only the chirping of the crickets and the occasional call of the crow breaks the silence of the long green aisles. It is the reaction that succeeds to the tumult of love and the toils of incubation the lull that precedes the departure for their winter haunts, like the hush of a chorus when the climax of a tragedy is about to be disclosed. Entering the woods this morning my ears are greeted by the gentle chirp of a swarm of warblers at work among the beech boughs. They flit from point to point of the upper branches, and are apparently the only feathered thing in evidence except a pair of nut-hatches which I startled from the trnnk of a maple beside the road. I push deeper into the woods, how- ever, and have scarcely seated myself upon a log when the swink~~ of the rose-breasted grosbeak reaches me across the swamp. Apparently he is somewhere in the bramble-patch beyond; for a catbird that I see among the alders begins to answer him, and the two keep up a desultory duet of question- ings and callings, to which later a second grosbeak adds an occasional note. But the performance lacks the spontaneity and vivacity of the earlier season; it is modulated, subdued, self-conscious; and its tone is slightly melancholy, in keeping with the impression of the hour. While passing through this part of the woods recently I caught a glimpse of a pair of golden-crowned thrushes, or oven-birds, as they flitted hurriedly from one thicket to an- other. They had been at work among the decaying flakes of a huge hemlock that lay prone beside the cattle-path, and were startled by my approach. I leave the grosbeaks, therefore, and turn my steps in that direction. voL. xx. 11 142 In Early September with the Birds. [Feb., Walking silently along the path my ears catch presently a sound there is no mistakingthe noise of the peculiar move- ment of the thrush at work among the leaves. I am unable to put into language what it is that differentiates this sound from the sonuds made by other birds when similarly engaged; but it is no more true that the plumage of the thrnsh differs from that of the tanager or the sparrow, than that he has an idiosyncrasy of movement on the ground distinguishable from theirs. At this moment a pair of song-sparrows are at work on the outskirts of the thicket; but I am never deluded into mistaking the sound made by one of their movements for that of the bird of which I am in search. I should as soon be guilty of confounding the two birds nests or songs. A branch of the main cattle-path leads directly towards the thicket where the thrushes are at work; so, putting aside the brambles, I creep silently on, and find myself, after two or three minutes have elapsed, in the midst of a thick growth of scrub beech, reaching nearly to my waist. This is so little penetra- ble that any further movement is likely to be fatal to the object I have in view, and I am obliged to call a halt. Here, very much to my chagrin, the song-sparrows espy me, and set up a nervous apprehensive chirp. A movement of my arm, however, is sufficient to drive them off, and the thrushes and I have the thicket to ourselves. In front of me and about six feet distant, stands the parent beech tree; and I have been wait- ing but a moment when a chipmunk runs up the trunk and out upon a branch breast-high that stretches towards my right. I return steadily his look of wonder, and presently raise my gun with my disengaged hand until the muzzle is within two feet of his panting sides; but he continues to gaze wonder- ingly at me, and only when I lower the gun with a sudden jerk does he take himself away. Stillness and deliberation accomplish almost everything in the woods. While the chipmunk is on the bough, the oven-birds con- tinue their work among the leaves, and as he scurries off I catch a glimpse of the flirted tail of one of them within a yard or so of my feet. He is chasing his mate through the thicket, and the pair pass and repass several times almost within my reach, yet so dense is the growth that I am unable to get a 1892.1 In Early September with the Birds. 143 look at them. I continue to stand still, however, and they are evidently unsuspicious of my marked proximity; for presently one of them, mounting the high ground where the beech growth is less dense, breaks forth into a gentle soliloquizing trill, as if to challenge the attention of any possible intruder. In a moment his mate dives forward, and I push through the twigs towards them,but only to catch a glimpse of their backs and of their beautiful golden crests as they dash hur- riedly away. I shall have to visit this portion of the woods again in the hope of obtaining a more satisfying interview. While I have been listening to the thrushes, the grosbeaks have kept up their metallic, slightly apprehensive swink ~ and now I see one of them perched upon a heap of brushwood where the light comes full upon him, and get a fine view of his long buoyant outline and his delicately tinted breast. There is something boat-like about his build; and though he is not the most graceful of our flyers, I have no doubt that he will cover the distance that now separates him from his winter home in safety. Like the catbird, the grosbeak is possessed of not a little curiosity; and I never have any difficulty in obtain~ ing a good sight of him, provided I am possessed of the neces- sary time and patience. I have only to seat myself upon a log amid surroundings that, while moderately open, afford easy means of cover, and in a few minutes I am sure to see him perched upon some bough or heap of brushwood, returning my gaze with interest and repeating his half-apprehensive, half-interrogatory swink. He pauses generally between each note as if considering, and the syllable is sometimes drawn out into a long questioning sw~e-nk ?, as if he were deliberating the propriety of continuing to repeat the note. Leaving the woods I follow a rough road through the black- berry bushes, and presently come out upon the brow of a pas- ture that overlooks the lake. Below me fern-covered mounds disclose the whereabouts of the decaying trunks of various ancient hemlocks now covered with rich brown earth; and I make my way from one to another through the swampy hollow that separates me from the road. To the left the sunlight is caught and reflected by the horizontal boughs of unnumbered beeches, upon which an occasional hemlock 144 In Early September with the Bird8. [Feh., throws a blotch of thick green shade. As yet the leaves are untouched by the tints of autumn, and I pause to take in the resplendent spectacle. I know few finer sights in natures arrangement of light and shadow than this sifting of the sun- beams through the beech boughs, nor anything more sugges- tive of the receptivity of vegetable life than the way the leave& dispose themselves so as to secure a maximum amount of sun. It is an example among the flora of our western continent of a salamandrine trait universal with the trees of Europea mark of consangninity of which our beech and thorn-apple trees~ alone, I think, preserve a trace. Across the lake a pair of hawks are soaring above an open tableland in the middle-distance, swooping and falling and sailing and ascending in all the consciousness of power audi pride of place. It is the hour of the falconidcx3, and I know of no finer treat among feats of flight than to watch a nest of youngsters, now grown strong upon the wing, perform their spiral exercises, and sail and swoop and fall, under the gen- eralship of a pair of veterans. One has better ideas of the width of space and of the buoyancy of the ether after watching their evolutions, and knows more of the possibilities of curve and spiral, and can better admire that nice adjustment of feather and bone and muscle, whereby nature makes possible this airy, aspiring show. Presently the road brings me once more into the woods, andi I descend by sharp transitions towards the water. A catbird somewhere in the underbrush espies me, and skulks away after uttering a warning note; and a pair of robins fly fussily from one maple to another with a half-scolding, half-frightened cry, and are answered by a group of crows, the noise of whose departing wings I hear afterwards above the hemlocks. Des- pite my fondness for the robin, I dislike his propensity in Sep- tember to assume the r6le of the alarmist. Relieved from the cares of nesting, and from the necessity which this imposes on him of placing cont~dence in man, he gives his natural fussi- ness and irreticence the rein and develops into the very pre- sentment of a noisy and suspicious scold, flying aggressively in advance of the observer to give warning of his approach. I am glad when I leave these two behind and come out upon a 1892.1 In Early Septe~mber with the Birds. 145 clearing in the hemlocks which introdnces me to the camp and to the lake. The water is almost rippleless, and the camp has that air of being forsaken which summer haunts present to us in autumn. I saunter past the small veranda and take the old tin cnp from its peg on a prostrate hemlock and regale myself from the clear, cool spring. Here, but still less convention- ally, do the birds, and perhaps the squirrels, also slake their thirst. Behind me a cricket keeps up a constant cheep, and from some tall trees above the slashing ring what Tennyson calls sudden scritches of the jay. The crows have returned to the taller hemlocks, and call repeatedly as if in protest against my intrusion; and as I walk along between the trees, tread- ing noiselessly upon the thick pine needles, I come almost close upon one of their number who is making a meal of the freshwater mussels which a sudden lowering of the water of the lake has left upon the shore. He rises and departs in vociferous bewilderment before I can raise my gun, and his departure is the signal for the hegira of the rest. Seating myself on a log I watch the motions of a moth that has fallen into the water, and is sending out ripples of a con- stantly lessening intensity, in his efiort~ to free himself from the all-surrounding fluid. He is too far from shore to be reached by any system of relief that I can organize, and I watch his steadily weakening struggles with a sympathy that avails nothing to his rescue. Meanwhile the arm of the lake is being ruffled by a breeze that descends upon its western side, and my pulses are quick- cued by the sight of what appears to be a small white-breasted water-bird coming rapidly towards me. As yet he is consider- ably beyond the margin formed by the water-lily pads, and so is out of gun shot; but I take the precaution to noiselessly raise the hammers of my gun as I watch his alternate pauses and advances. How buoyantly he seems to float, and how slight the wake he makes in swimming! It is the very em- bodiment of a perfect motion: dignified, resistless, buoyant, rapid, graceful, with just sufficient evidence of resting upon the water to be strictly mundane. So, I fancy, would angels move, if the medium of their motion was the bosom of the 146 [Feb., In Early September with the Birds. deep. As he continues to approach me I note the globe-like contour of his breast, and can almost imagine I detect above it the titillation of his tiny head. Alas, for this exuberance of my fancy! A sudden puff shows me that the rounded figure is no other than a ball of thistle-down which the wind has brought down from the pasture and is wafting slowly and with frequent panses across the surface of the lake. My dream of increasing my stock of ornithological knowl- edge being thus dispelled, I let down the hammers of my gun and retrace my steps towards the camp. The aspens which dot the maples and birches of the slashing are quivering in the wind and disclosing the silvery lining of their leaves; and presently a jay descends from the hemlocks above and alights on a bough that overhangs the water, making a splatch of blue upon its green and silver, and seeming to light up the leaves for a foot or two around him with a soft cerulean blaze. He remains steadily a moment, his hues repeated in the lake below him; then he espies me, and with a screech buries himself once more in the depths of the hemlocks. To-day is one of those rare days that seem destined for the observer, for not only is Nature in her happiest mood, but her fauna also are more than usually in evidence. I have no sooner seated myself at the foot of a silver birch, with my feet towards the water, than something makes me aware of the movements of a spotted adder that is crawling stealthily towards me from behind, over the bare brown earth. It is impossible that he can be oblivious of my presence, for he pauses more than once and lifts his head to reconnoitre; yet he continues to advance as if intent on reaching the spot upon which I sit. Measuring him with my eye, I take him to be nearly three feet long, but knowing him to be harmless, my first intention is to permit him to approach as near to me as he chooses. There is some- thing, however, in his stealthy, sinuous movements, and in the steely glitter of his eye, that gets the better of my inteution, and lie is no sooner within reach of a stick that I have taken up, than I suddenly seal his fate. It is the half-involuntary expression of the old inherited antagonism; and for my own part I have no sympathy with those naturalists who affect to see an equal beauty and to find a commensurate interest in the 1892.] in Early September with the Birds. 147 coils of the crotalus and the plumage of the bird of paradise. I am persuaded that there is in Nature that which is intended to awaken in us the element of horror and to deter us from its moral suggestion by the repulsion it excites; and there is to me something abnormal and repellent in the action of the young New England girl, of whom the newspapers lately told us, who devoted her vacation to the collection of all the local snakes she could discover, capturing them with her own hands. My adventure with the adder has indisposed me to further observations in that locality; so I shoulder my gun and reascend the steep incline. Reaching the open I strike off across a pasture to the left, disturbing the flocks of goldfinches which are at work among the thistle-tops, and causing them to fly off a b~ pondaic with cheerful chirp and that undulatincr slow s rhythm which they share with no other bird. It is, however, the true goldfinch flight, and one recognizes the European species, in spite of his different plumage, as soon as one sees him on the wing. The thickets below the pasture seem to teem with bird-life. I notice the song-sparrow, the fox-sparrow, the bluebird, the grackle, the red-wing, the catbird, the robin, the ph~be, the king-bird; and from the maple grove above comes the faint note of the greenlets at work among the tree-tops, and the day-day~ of the black-capped titmouse. I enter the grove and am intent on the movements of a nut-hatch, when a small hawkattracted probably by the cries of the titmiceglides swiftly through the boughs. I let him have the contents of my right barrel through the leaves, and am gratified to see him drop several feet, and then make for the thick foliage of a linden on the outskirts of the grove. Hearing me approach- ing, he leaves this shelter, flying low across the road and alight- ing on a dead apple tree beside the mill pond. He is evidently hard hit, as he disposes himself along one of the larger limbs in a crouching position and eyes me furtively and apprehen- sively from its further side. I discharge the contents of my second barrel at him,when lie leaves the apple tree and flies low across the mill pond, slowing down towards the middle as if to alight upon a stump, but changes his mind, and holds on across the pond. I scramble across the dam, and discover him 148 In Early September with the Birds. [Feb., sitting on the water a foot or two from shore, his head drawn up and his eye dilating, even though he is slowly staining the water with his blood. II make a reach for him, and clutch him by one leg as he crawls upon a log. An examination shows him to be bleeding from a wonnd in the lower breast, and to have one wing broken at the shoulder and one leg at the thigh; nevertheless he retains much of the native pugnacity of his species. Judging from his plumage and his strong, firm talons, he mnst have had old handling of the titmice and their congeners; so I pnt a period to his activities withont com- punction by striking him against a stone. iRecrossing the dam I re~nter the maples and discover the nuthatch at work not far from where I left him, having appar- ently been little disturbed by the firing of my gun. He flits up and down the bole of a large maple and along the under- side of its thickest boughs, with a light titillating motion, as airily and with as much assurance as the wagtail glints from rift to rift along the stream. He is a joyous, active little fellow, and his soft laugh, uttered whenever he flies from bough to bough, or from tree to tree, has a distinctly human element. It is, however, too superficial to be quite canny, being sounded apparently in the hollow roof of the month, and having a slightly mocking intonation. Like the laugh of the idiot, it is lacking in depth and meaning, as if it were the pro- duct of the passing moment and had no connection with any- thing that lies behind. Leaving the maple grove, I skirt two or three small orchards and come out presently once more upon the road. The stream, which at the millpond was close at hand, is now a qnarter of a mile below me, and is separated from where I stand by a steep descent covered with a growth of mingled beech and maple that stretches away for a distance of half a mile and is lost in the shoulder of a hill. The tops present a dense impenetrable mass, upon which the wind is playing as it plays upon the sea. I am indisposed for a scramble through these woods, so I keep to the road, and come presently upon a clump of elderberry bushes, from which two or three golden-wings make a precipi- tons departure. The bushes, however, continue to sway, and I discern three or four others still at work among the berries, 1892.1 In Early Septemler with the Bird8. 149 one of which presents me with the most perfect view I have yet had of the living specimen, the dark half-moon standing out clear and prominent on the lilac-brown of his breast, and the large soft spots of the side-breast being distinctly visible. Presently he turns his head, and I get a clear sight of the scar- let crescent upon his nape, and as he lifts himself from the twig to reconnoitre, the gold of his tail and under-wings flashes brightly in the sun. No sight of the stuffed specimen in a museum is to be compared for a moment with this experience. He is in open view of me within a distance of fifteen feet, and I can watch the nictitating of his eyelid and his short and rapid breathing. Only once before have I had a like experience, when a purple finchthe first I had ever seenalighted on a fence beside me within reach of my outstretched hand, and remained there motionless for half a minute, as if too bewild- ered to fly away. Passing a watering-trough that is fed by a trickling nil, I make my way along the outskirts of a cornfield in which pump- kins are ripening, and come out upon a clearing dotted here and there with clumps of sumac. Below is a long dark grove, from the depths of which I catch the soliloquy of the hermit thrusha sound I had not lately heard. Two birds are an- swering one another at slight intervals, but at some distance, and soft and low as if loth to disturb the serenity of the hour. It is the most divine of all our northern wild-bird songstoo ethereal for the open champaign, but to be heard at sundown, and occasionally during the day, in the fastnesses of some wood, and like the pensive winding of a silver horn. I know of noth- ingnot even the fine soft twilight chanting of the vesper-spar- rowto compare with its impression of serenity and unearthli- ness. It comes to me as if across some impeding medium, and strikes me with a sense of almost pain. My watch tells me that my ramble is already enough pro- tracted; so I turn and ascend the hill, bruising out the bitter odors of the yarrow at nearly every step. For now I am upon a different geological formation, the loose earth and gravel of the moraine upon which I have lately been giving place to ledges of sandstone and a thin but compact soil. Botanically, too, I have entered upon another zone. Ferns and a short, fine 150 In Early & pteniber with the Bird8. [Feb., grass take the place of the luxuriant miscellaneous growth of the lower level, and the table-land above me is tenanted by a flock of sheep. Where the edge of the glacier once rested, a belt of maples stretches along the ridge; and seating myself upon one of the ledges 1 watch the antics of a lesser flycatcher which is jerking out his notes from the dead branch of a maple, as though casting pebbles from his mouth, with a sharp up- ward motion, and with contortions that amuse me by their gro- tesqueness. A frequent turn of the head gives the sounds a double direction, and something in the formation of the dell below him adds a ventriloquial character to the performance. For a minute or two I am in donbt as to whether he is the sole performer. He is a dismal, sooty-looking little fellow; but so thoroughly in earnest is he at his task, and so plain are his gymnastics, that, had I a better eye, I am sure I might almost see the spheres and globules of sound-laden air which he ejects with such amusing emphasis. While I am sitting thus, a bird that I do not see, flies over and utters a sudden note above me like the blast of a tiny trumpet. He has spied me among the ferns, and utters this musical note of warning to his companions of the wood. It is sharp, sudden, but melodic to the very corethe alarm-note of a singing army. I try to catch sight of him, but he is too quick for me, and I am unable to identify the throat from which the sound proceeds. From its volume I infer it to have been the utterance of one of the smaller 8ylvia?possibly a virco or a warblerstrung to unusual tension by the sudden- ness of the surprise. But one more adventure and my ramble is at an end. It is a transition almost from one end of the scale of bird-life to the other, and nearly the whole gamut of our feathered existence lies between. I have emerged from the grove, and am headed towards the village, when I suddenly become aware of the presence of that rarest of all visitors to this neighborhoodthe bald white-headed eagle. I am unable to tell by what instinct my eye is drawn in his direction, but when I first see him he is low down towards the village, apparently not more than five or six hundred feet above the roofs of the highest houses, and headed directly north. Should he keep straight on he will 1892.] Jim Early Seytem~er with the Birds. 151 pass abreast of me only a field or two away. Suddenly, how- ever, he doubles back upon himself and begins rapidly to ascend, his dusky vans showing dark against the sky, his white head gleaming brightly in the sun. Up, up, he rises; and now he is above the sheep-run, and I can distinctly catch the turn- ing of his head as he continues to sail slowly above the open, putting rod after rod between him and the earth. A crowd has gathered in front of the hotel, but he is already out of reach of our Winchesters and IRemingtons, and, gradually becoming less and less, is at last lost in the blue-gray of the sky. 152 Does Ike Church Believe in tke ]ihcarnation ~ [Feb., ARTICLE V.DOES THE CHURCH BELIEVE IN THE INCARNATION? WHAT is the doctrine of the Incarnation? That the God- head has exhausted itself in Christ, so that outside of Him there is no Divine knowledge or working? Assuredly not. The Church has always abhorred this doctrine. That, if not the Godhead, yet the Word, has exhausted Himself in Christ, so that all the operations of the divine reason in the universe, which, before the Incarnation, were only limited by the limita- tions of the universe itself, are henceforth limited immeasura- bly more by the necessary limitations of the human soul of Jesus Christ, even as glorified? To state this is to refute it. What then is involved in the doctrine of the Incarnation? Plainly so much as this. On the one hand, no central act of knowledge or power, put forth by the humanity of Jesus Christ, originates in this, but is the prolongation and transmission, within the limits of humanity, of a Divine act of knowledge, love or power, which finds in a humanity absolutely yielded to it a perfect medium for its operations within the human range. On the other hand, every Divine act of Jesus Christ is a truly human act, accomplished through a true human knowledge, true human affections, and a true human voluntary energy. The Church, as we know, has explicitly condemned the doctrine that the Divine will acts in Christ by an immediate operation. Such an act would make our Lords humanity merely auto- matic, not a true human activity. But if Christs knowledge, affections, and will, are all truly, and not feignedly human, they are all limited. Whatever ex- altation and extension of the Redeemers powers may have re- suited from his glorification, which has rendered them the per- fectly transparent and perfectly flexible organ of the Godhead, for the purposes of redemption, his soul does not cease to be a glorified human soul. The humanity is not converted into the Godhead, but assumed into the Godhead, remaining forever distinct from it, though forever united with it, in a perfectly receptive obedience.

152 Does Ike Church Believe in tke ]ihcarnation ~ [Feb., ARTICLE V.DOES THE CHURCH BELIEVE IN THE INCARNATION? WHAT is the doctrine of the Incarnation? That the God- head has exhausted itself in Christ, so that outside of Him there is no Divine knowledge or working? Assuredly not. The Church has always abhorred this doctrine. That, if not the Godhead, yet the Word, has exhausted Himself in Christ, so that all the operations of the divine reason in the universe, which, before the Incarnation, were only limited by the limita- tions of the universe itself, are henceforth limited immeasura- bly more by the necessary limitations of the human soul of Jesus Christ, even as glorified? To state this is to refute it. What then is involved in the doctrine of the Incarnation? Plainly so much as this. On the one hand, no central act of knowledge or power, put forth by the humanity of Jesus Christ, originates in this, but is the prolongation and transmission, within the limits of humanity, of a Divine act of knowledge, love or power, which finds in a humanity absolutely yielded to it a perfect medium for its operations within the human range. On the other hand, every Divine act of Jesus Christ is a truly human act, accomplished through a true human knowledge, true human affections, and a true human voluntary energy. The Church, as we know, has explicitly condemned the doctrine that the Divine will acts in Christ by an immediate operation. Such an act would make our Lords humanity merely auto- matic, not a true human activity. But if Christs knowledge, affections, and will, are all truly, and not feignedly human, they are all limited. Whatever ex- altation and extension of the Redeemers powers may have re- suited from his glorification, which has rendered them the per- fectly transparent and perfectly flexible organ of the Godhead, for the purposes of redemption, his soul does not cease to be a glorified human soul. The humanity is not converted into the Godhead, but assumed into the Godhead, remaining forever distinct from it, though forever united with it, in a perfectly receptive obedience. 1892.] Does the Church Believe im the Incctrnatirn ~ 153 Now if this is so forever, assuredly it was not less so on earth. But if the Church really believes this (and if she does not, she does not believe in the Incarnation) why is such an ado made whenever it is declared that Christs knowledge of empirical facts was limited by his opportunities of gaining it? Christ Himself has given us explicit assurance that it was so limited. He knew that He should come again, for the Divine knowl- edge of the Fathers redemptive providence through Him made it impossible that He should suppose Himself appointed to leave the world in humiliation and not appointed to return to it in glory. But the precise time of his return was an acciden- tal fact, which he could therefore only know as another human soul might know it, by some Divine communication from with- out, which it had not pleased the Father to give. He knew, however, that his retnrn, in its first great realization, to deliver his Church from the suffocating weight of unbelieving Israel, would take place in that generation. Whether this last knowl- edge was essentially involved in his consciousness of his work, or whether it was communicated to Him from withont, we do not know. If the former, it was theanthropic kiiowledge. If the latter, it was purely human, though prophetic knowledge, a part of that intellectual furniture with which it pleased God to equip Him. This purely human and empirical furnitnre of his mind began, of course, with the first unfolding of his human powers. We surely do not suppose that He recognized the letters of the alphabet by the transfusion into his opening humanity of the Divine knowledge of them. To say that would be the same as to say that the union of unresisting love with the Father oppresses the opening soul and extinguishes its essential activity, by which it becomes possessed of empirical facts through communication with those who already know them. Assuredly He did not know, before He was told, that his mothers name was Mary, and his foster-fathers Joseph and that of his town Nazareth, and of his district Galilee, and of his people Israel. When He first saw an Old Testament roll, are we to suppose that lie had no curiosity to know what that book was, and what it treated of? When his mother told Him stories of Eden and the Flood, and the Exodus, and the Passover, and the Judges, and the Kings, and the Captivity, 154 Does the Church Believe in the Incarnation? [Feb., and the Maccabees, are we to imagine her subject to the weird dismay of perceiving that the intellectual thirst of ingennons childhood had all been anticipated and pre-absorbed by an in~ comprehensible transfer of all these things from the Divine Soul into his human sonl? What comfort could snch a mother have in such a child? He would not be her child. He would not be like unto his brethren in all thingsexcept sin. And how can the perfect unity of heart and will with the Father be imagined as including an a priori knowledge of things which have nothing in them of an a priori nature? But Christ was not less perfectly human in maturity than in childhood. Are we to imagine that suddenly, at twelve, or twenty, or thirty years old, his manner of becoming acquainted with empirical facts was transmuted, and that after having learned by being told, of the existence of Jerusalem, and Judea, and Arabia, and Damascus, He suddenly, by some purely in- ward process, became aware of the existence of the Western Continent, the northward extent of Asia, or the number of Egyptian dynastiesfacts of not the slightest avail to the end for which He came into the world? That would have been to interrupt his true human development by an abrupt, incompre- hensible and superfluous transubstantiation. Doubtless he learned empirical facts in manhood as in childhood, by gain- ing information from those who had it already. A needed modification of this general statement requires no attention until later. Now how does this apply to his knowledge of the Old Testa- ment? He recognized this as his Fathers book. He recog- nized it as his own book; for He found Himself in it. And his people find his Father in it and find Him in it. All the higher and lower criticisms in the world will never expunge the fea- tures of the Son of Man from the 53d of Isaiah, and from the whole course and tenor of the Old Testament. The only diffi- culty in recognizing this is, that the fulfilment so much trans- cends the adumbrations as often to make it rather hard to trace these out. Now whatever knowledge was involved in this was doubtless involved in Christs knowledge of the Old Testament. But surely this does not remove the fact that the Old Testament, on 1892.1 Doe8 the Church Believe in the incarnation? 155 its ritual side, was worthy to be designated as an aggregate of weak and beggarly rudiments. When Paul said that, hun- dreds of good people in the early Church shivered with horror, at such presumptuous rationalism, and such deep irreverence. We know what eager discussion it cost the Presbytery of Jeru- salem before this could be prevailed on by its saintly Modera- tor, and by the Apostles, to desist from requiring of Paul a retraction of his heterodoxy, as a condition of sanctioning his work. Indeed, a large fraction, at least of the private brethren never became reconciled to Pani, and at last, under later Essene influences, went so far, as, in an indirect and subtle way, pointed out by IRitschl, to insinuate that the Apostles themselves, who acknowledged Paul, did not preach the true Gospel. Yet Paul had really said much less than his Master, who had not only put righteousness and love incomparably above all ceremonies, but had relatively disparaged the proph- ets also almost immeasurably, declaring that the least in the Kingdom of God is greater than the greatest of them, greater, that is, in opportunities. Who then can imagine that the mind of our Lord ever adverted, as concerns the Old Tes- tament, to questions of relative chronology, or particular au- thorship? He knew that it was the book of God, for it had nourished his Humanity to be the perfect tabernacle of God. All the arguments for the divinity of the Old Testament put together are as nothing compared with this one. Whatever theories of composition or historicity impinge upon that fact, are shattered by their owu fragility. But whatever theories leave this unimpaired, are neither concluded nor precluded by the fact, that as to these matters of the framework, Christ spoke, and doubtless thought, according to the common belief, just as He spoke, and doubtless thought, according to the common be- lief of the suns motion, or the earths shape and age, and doubtless like all his brethren, conceived the creative develop- ment of the world as ensuing in six days of ordinary length. It is true, had any one chanced to anticipate Augustines sug- gestion, that the days are a~onian days, the perfect sanity of a soul dwelling uninterruptedly in God would no doubt have led our Lord to remark that it might be so. But as the determina- tion of this point had no conceivable relation to his work of 156 Doe8 the Church Believe in the Incarnation? [Feb., self-surrendering love, and to the promotion of faith, hope audi charity, in the hearts of his people, He would doubtless soon have reverted to his accustomed belief, from which neither He nor his disciples had any occasion to depart. What then are we to say as to the legitimacy of the course, so common among theologians, of undertaking to estop all inquiries as to the authorship, or historicity, or relative age, of different parts of the Old Testament, by erecting against them the alleged authoritative declaration of Christ, as a wall beyond which it is unlawful to make research? That would be the same as to say that Christ came not to set free, but to enslave and paralyze the human powers. How could Christ have given testimony as to points with which He was unacquainted? When He speaks of the books of Moses, it no more implies an independent testimony on his part that Moses wrote the Penta- teuch (which he may have done for all that the present writer knows to the contrary) than the fact of a present allusion to Homers Iliad commits the speaker to the theory of Homers individual authorship. And when he says that David in the Spirit calls the Messiah Lord, the very nature of his re- lations to the Scribes makes sufficiently plain that He is not offering this to them as a transcendental enlightenment, which they accept as from Him and are perplexed what to infer from it, but that He proceeds on the assumption of authorship com- mon to Him and them, and wishes to ventilate the Messianic question on that basis. Had anyone in those days been capa- ble of answering, that having diligently compared the styles of all the Psalms, he was convinced that the 110th was erroneously attributed to David, there is surely nothing in the purely tenta- tive nature of Christs question to stand in the way of his ac- cepting this as a snificient answer to this one particular inquiry And when He says that Moses wrote of Him, what does He mean but that He is to be found in the Pentateuch, so that the IMosaic authority on which his antagonists relied is, rightly in- terpreted, against them? The question between Him and the Scribes was the purely practical one, whether the Pentateuch was on his side or theirs. As the introduction of critical ques- tions of date and authorship would have brought an utterly heterogeneous element into the controversy, we have no reason 1892.] Doe8 the Church Believe in the Incarnation? 157 to suppose that God, by means ordinary or extraordinary, en- cumbered the mind of his Son with any such anachronistic apparatus of superfluous scholarship. Here, however, it is always vehemently objected, that by such analyses we are slowly dissolving away Christs spiritual authority, and leaving it open to every mans arbitrary discre- tion when he will accept or reject a saying of his. And doubt- less it is true that the sounder the theory of Christs spiritual authority, the less coercive power it will have over unreasona- bleness and self-will. Christianity depends very much more for its controlling force on uprightness of moral disposition than Mohammedanism, which can hardly be said to depend on it at all. And Protestantism knows very much less what to do with an abject submissiveness of soul than Roman Catholicism. It is doing very little honor to the Son of Man to imagine Him an earlier and purer Mohammed, or even a later and greater Moses. A spiritual interpretation of the mind of God is in its very natnre incapable of such a form of peremptoriness as is found in the Law, although even this only undertakes to govern the acts, and makes no attempt to circumscribe the indefeasible human right of deducing necessary intellectual conclusions from intellectual premises. Christ seeks his throne only in the souls of the free-minded and honest-hearted. Those who are so much concerned lest Christs spiritual lord- ship should suffer shipwreck by the necessary deductions from the facts of his true humanity, forget this, that candor is at once the most absolutely free and the most absolutely submis- sive of all possible states of mind. As St. Paul declares of himself, it is at once free from all men and subject to all. It is free, even relatively to the Son of God, who comes for the very end of setting it free. But it is absolutely flexible and submis~ sive to every fragment of knowledge, from whomsoever re- ceived. As saith St. Hilary (quoted at second hand), Jferita6, a quocumque dicatur, e Spiritu Sancto ect. But if this is true, how ~an there be anything unique in Christs relationship to our apprehensions of truth? That would be very much like saying: Because the light of a firefly may serve me to spell out a few words, therefore the Sun is not the Lord of day, the inexhaustible fountain of knowledge, voL. xx. 12 158 Does the Church Believe in the Incarnation? [Feb., and of vital warmth. In Thy light we shall see light. We see it, for onrselves, by our own visual activity. But we see it not as derived from ourselves, but from Him who shines upon our souls. It is true, this perfect interfusion of freedom and submissive- ness belongs to our consummate, not to our inchoate relation to Christ. This is true both of the Church and of each of her members. The Church at first is a great institute for learning from Him in whom she recognizes a unique and supreme rela- tion to God. Nice distinctions between the human and Divine in Christ are at first neither possible nor profitable. And even when the Church discusses these matters, she must do it ab- stractly, and be slow to encourage over-venturesomeness in practical application. But it must surely be, that just in pro- portion as she enters into unity with the spirit of her Head, so much the more perfectly must she come to interpret his con- sciousness of Himself, and distinguish the more easily between the framework of opinion as to empirical facts which necessarily enshrined the workings of his mind, and his fundamental, cen- tral apprehensions, derived from his untroubled unity with God, concerning God, Man, Origin, Destiny, Good, and Evil. And here we see a profound distinction between Christs simple acceptance of a belief which He found prevailing, and his independent attestations of the truth of Gods universe. For instance, He found many forms of mental and bodily dis- turbance ascribed to demoniacal possession. This belief came from the earliest state of mankind. The childhood of the race was much like the childhood of the individual. It has the sense of a great many truths which subsequently the concate- nation of second causes covers over. Among these is the appre- hension of a world of spiritual existences mightily influential for good and evil over mankind. As nothing could be more malignantly invidious, so nothing could be more shallow and silly, than the impudent assumption of some materialists, that to prove any belief false, it is enough to show that uncivilized men entertain it. Uncivilized men eat and drink. Therefore, on this showing, eating and drinking are something of which civilized men ought to be ashamed. Then the hermits of the Thebaid would be the highest type of civilization, for though 1892.] Doe8 the church Believe in the incarnation? 159 they had to eat and drink, they were mightily ashamed of the necessity. But as savages eat with an unrestrained and undis- criminating voracity, so do they believe. They pass over proxi- mate in their eagerness for ultimate causes. And moreover, that fundamental fact of birth-sin, of a depravity of nature which bears it wide away from even its own ideal, and far more from the intrinsic and Divine ideal, lays hold of belief equally with feeling and action. The dapper comfortableness with which our Unitarian brethren wave away from them, as inconsistent with a cheerful religion, all belief in birth-sin, or the devil or hell, no more removes these ugly realities than the classic forced smile in passing by the presence of death overcomes the might of mortality. Indeed developed Unitarianism seems to belong among those systems which, as iDorner says, are not so much Christianity as ilellenism illumined by Christianity. Yet, while the belief of the Jews in Christs day, that dis- ease was largely owing to an extra-mundane and malignant in- fluence, was perfectly rational, and seems not unlikely to come largely to the front again, it is certain that the Jews held it in the crudest form, scientifically speaking. Of physical causes and conditions of sickness or health, they had the least possible conception. Therefore that Christ should have exercised and expressed his healing activity in the forms of popular concep- tion, which He doubtless in large measure shared, proves little or nothing as to the immediate objective fact of any particular case. But Christ does not stop here. He interweaves the be- lief in an objective kingdom of evil, extra-mundane and intra- mundane alike, embodied in a personal head, active through countless angels of evil, to be dreaded anSI resisted by man, on pain of forfeiting the eternal good intended for him by God, so inextricably with all his teachings, as to make it plain that his own consciousness of untroubled union with God, and the Divine and fearless peace resulting from it, in no way causes this dire belief to vanish as a morbid nightmare, but intensifies it, and gives greater density to its shadows. And indeed, as Mr. Joseph Cook has well Observed, no law of nature has been yet discovered, whereby a brightening light can be restrained from casting a deepening gloom. Christ comes with an infinite fullness of power to redeem, and not with an infinite disposition 160 Doe8 the Church Believe in the Incarnation? [Feb., to deny the necessity of redemption. Therefore, those who put from them so easily beliefs which seem to be evidently in- volved in the testimony of Christs spiritual consciousness, can hardly be called his disciples, as indeed they seem to be coming to an increasing willingness to give up the name. But here again we shall be met with countless objections from those brethren to whom the dry and precisely forinniated provisions and declarations of a statnte-book are the highest ideal of iRevelation. How shall we know, they will say, how to distinguish between Christs distinct and independent affir- mations and his simple use of popnlarly diffused conceptions! Nothing can be more variable and uncertain than a system of belief that allows itself to make distinctions which every man will draw differently. It is tine, once allow a distinction between the form or cos- tume of Christs teaching, and that which he advances by His Divine authority as its substance, and no two men are likely to draw the line of demarcation in precisely the same place. But has there ever prevailed in the Chnrch, nnder the utmost rigor of literalistic interpretation, a precise uniformity as to the con- tents of IRevelation? Far from it. There has been a general consent as to vital and central trnths. Thomas Erskine of Lin- lathen said that he was struck in comparing, a little before, a Calvinistic, a Roman Catholic, and a IRusso-Greek system of divinity, to note how little power the intermingled elements of difference, important as these are in themselves, had to overbear the underlying unity. This is plainly becanse the New Testament writers so essentially live and breathe in the atmosphere of the same great truths, that all who recognize in them the Spirit of Christ, and in Christ the Spirit of God, mnst gravitate towards the same general conclusions. Outside these central truths there is a wide range of truths of inferior significance, declining in importance and in lnminousness of evidence, until we reach the very boundary, where the Redeemer and his Apostles give but fngitive and elusive suggestions. There is certainly nothing in all this to annoy us. God has not been pleased to make the Gospel of his Son either a second Book of Leviticus or a Body of Divinity. He has been pleased to make his Word like his World, a sphere in which the central necessities of the soul are 1892.] Does the Chmrch Believe in the incarnation? 161 abundantly provided for, and in which its secondary necessities meet a corresponding provision, and so on towards the circum- ference. If God has not sent a Rabbi (except in the mere out- ward guise of his teaching) to be the Savionr of the world, but Him who is the King of Truth, by virtue of being the Truth, receiving the rays from on high, and reflecting them in undis- torted purity, we certainly are blessed therein. This implies that in Him and through Him there are not only broad disclos- ures, but infinite delicacies of revelation. That through long ages of the Church these should be either wrongly interpreted or varionsly interpreted or neglected, while the absolutely necessary truths of the Gospel are taking root in apprehension, and extending themselves slowly, very slowly, into practice, is no very dismal fact. Christians certainly ought not to com- plain if they find that the riches of Christ are inexhaustible. The spoken word of God can never, at the most, be more than a partial and imperfect effiux of his living Word, the Eternal Son. What Christ has said, and his Apostles have added, is rather the leaven than the lump of Christian apprehensions of truth. The lines of thought along which He has sent his Apostles, and the Apostles have sent His Church, yield infin- itely growing results, which neither He nor they could gather in, and many of which they could only faintly indicate. Yet every truth which comes into the mind of the Church, remain- ing in unity with the mind of Christ, and with the mind of his Apostles, is a truth revealed in Christ. It is known that photographic charts of the heavens taken telescopically disclose stars so remote that the most powerful telescopes, without this help, have never brought them into view. So it is certain that there is hardly a turn of expres- sion in the New Testament (to say nothing of large tracts of the Old) which does not reach on into regions of Divine truth far beyond all explicit statement, and it may be not unfre- quently beyond all explicit consciousness of the writer. A thousand facts, principles, consequences, are bound up in the words and acts of our Lord Himself, which can hardly have been distinctly present to his human consciousness, limited as this necessarily was by the fact of being human. For the soul of our Lord, though, as human, it was limited, yet as being, by 162 Doe8 the Church Believe in the Incarnation .~ [Feb., the creative providence, brought into existence in complete rectitude and purity, was capable of receiving the fulness of Godhead. Its relation, accordingly, to the universe, so far as this is related to man, was central. It was impossible therefore that the words of Christ should not send an echo into the realms of nature, and on the other hand, it was impossible that the realms of nature should not send an echo into the words of Christ. The distinction now current, between scientific and religious truth, is valid, and important, but it is not ultimate. As Matthew Arnold says, the universe is built on morality. But the morality on which it is built is the Ethics, not of Time, but of Eternity. That which is natural is preliminary, that which is ethically spiritual is final and innermost. As Rothe shows, an ethical union, when completely consummate, is substantial. Or as Dr. Newman Smyth has expressed it, in everything ethical there is something ontological. It is not strange, therefore, if correspondences should be found, not intended, not resting on any explicit knowledge, but ring- ing out sometimes unexpectedly, by virtue of essential har- mony, between the words of Scripture, especially the words of Christ, and physical laws of which He had never heard. When He for instance, detailing the disturbances of universal nature which shall herald his Second Coming, says, The powers of the heavens shall be shaken, it was not, I suppose, because He, in human limitation, knew anything of the ether or its undulations, but because of his union with the Creator, that He expressed a literal scientific truth, namely, that the forces which bind our system together may be so agitated as that mighty convulsions of the sun sometimes shake our earth precisely as a boy may be shaken in the grasp of a man, and may some day shake it into final ruin. The Church, therefore, has been wisely guided in determin- ing that a true and perfect human soul in Christ is the sufficient and adequate organ of the Godhead for the work of redemption. Truth that is not Divinely originated and communicated can have no redemptive efficacy. Truth that is not humanly apprehensible and humanly apprehended can have no redemptive efficacy. We therefore need no vague, semi-docetic intermediary, looming up, shadowy and fantastic, 1892.] Does the Church Believe in the Incarnation ~ 163 between us and God, as the vehicle of his perfect revelation to ns. We need such a Redeemer as He has been pleased to give, one who is, not in illusive guise, but in very deed, in soul and body, a brother of our race, or more properly the one Elder Brother of our race, central to the race, and therefore imme- diately next to each one of us that are points upon its circumference. So has the Church decided, because, after centuries of discussion, she has found no other conclusion answering to the nature of God, the nature of man, the needs of redemption, the declarations of Apostles, and the facts of the life of Christ. But to define abstractly is one thing, and to apply concretely, and in detail, is quite another. From a race alienated to the farthest verge of estrangement froiu God, it was impossible to gather a Church that should soon or easily interpret the thean- thropic consciousness of the Redeemer. Therefore the words and deeds of Christ have been largely treated in fact as if God spoke and wrought in Him only in some way of vague almightiness, to which his humanity hung loose. This has been, and is, a practical disbelief in the completeness and perfection of the Incarnation. Because the Church has not consistently carried through the belief of the Incarnation into its necessary implications and details, multitudes of devout and reasonable Christians have been driven into Unitarianism, in order to find the true humanity of our Lord. Many of them are now working back into Catholic theology. But what they bring us, it is to be hoped, will be Catholic Theology depurated of its element of irrationality. Other- wise they will have suffered loss, and the Church at large will have reaped no gain. It may be asked, however, whether Christ does not show proofs of knowledge, not merely of essential truths of Gods government, but of outward fact, which He cannot have learned through external information. Thus: When thou wast under the fig-tree, I saw thee. When thou hast opened its mouth, thou shalt find astater. There shall a man meet you bearing a pitcher of water. He saw them toiling in rowing. And no doubt others still. Beyond question. But surely no man that once bethinks himself, will contend that 164 Does the Church Believe in the Incarnation? [Feb.~ fringes of casual knowledge like this imply that Almighty God should directly, by a ghostly obsession of the human body, speak out of its organs, reducing the human soul of his Son into terrified silence. These are plain exemplifications of a power which ten thousand facts show to be intrinsically latent in the human soul, and sometimes to come into activity, a power of knowing facts, and sometimes facts very remote, by means of a more subtle sense than operates throngh the visible corporal organs. It may surely be assumed that the more entirely a human soul yields itself to the Divine inhabitancy, the more easily will this inherent capacity of the human being come, on occasion given, into actual effect. That this presump- tion is a reality may be manifested from the life of Joan of Arc, of Jacob Boehme, of George Fox, of Elizabeth Newport, and of countless other saints, of all ages, and of all confessions,, not all of them, by any means, within the bounds of historic revelation, to say nothing of numberless exhibitions of the same power quite disjoined from moral excellence. The peculiarity in the case of our Lord seems to be, that this extraordinary capacity of gaining the knowledge of external facts appears in ilim to have been held down to its lowest terms, and to have been rigorously limited to the immediate purposes of his work,, never, as in so many others, to have overflowed into a vague and often unprofitable clairvoyance. When St. John says that Jesus knew all men, and needed not to be instructed as to any one, because He knew what was in man, he undoubtedly ascribes to our Saviour a Divine knowl- edge. And rightly too. But it was, like all other forms of Divine knowledge in Him, a Divine knowledge bounded and contained within the possibilities of human nature. He in whom dwelt the fulness of the Godhead could not, assuredly, be misled into a premature self-committal through any rash precipitancy, or any weak effusiveness. And it is all such unhappy possibilities of human imperfection which John is here denying of his Lord. But to deny human imperfection is at a world-wide remove from denying human reality. It has been said by some eminent organ of literature (I think by the North American Review) that the current orthodoxy is a vague IMlonophysitism. It would be, perhaps, still closer to fact t~ 1892.] Does the Church Believe in the Incarnation? 165 call it a vague Apollinarianism. In either case the current or- thodoxy is current heresy. This is just as true of Catholics and Episcopalians as of churches which care less for historical the- ology, and just as true of clergymen and divines as of the laity. I know little and care less about Bishop Colenso, whom I fancy to have hardly been a Christian in belief except in the vaguest possible sense. But nothing could have been more irrational or inconsequent, for those who pretended to believe that a reasonable human soul is an essential constituent of the being of Christ, than the outcry which was raised against him by clergymen of the Church of England, of having dis- honored our Lord by saying that He cannot be quoted as au- thority for the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch. How unreasonable such a clamor is, I hope I have done something to show. If it should be proved some day that Moses wrote every word of .the Pentateuch, from the first verse of Genesis to the last verse of Deuteronomy, including the notice of his own death and burial, this particular position of Colenso would remain impregnable. So also I hear of a delation of Prin- cipal Gore, a pronounced High Churchman, to the authorities of his University, on a charge of heresy, because he has said that the Word, becoming Incarnate, has been pleased to limit his own knowledge. Even this formula shows the timidity of one who knows how far his brethren are from practically be- lieving in that true humanity of the Saviour in which they pro- fess to believe, otherwise he would not have used a phrase which implies that the Word could, if he would, have con~~reyed the infinity of his own knowledge into a human soula plain impossibility. On the other hand, it is still more irrational to say that the Divine Word can empty his Divine consciousness of any particle of knowledge. We might as well say at once that God could annihilate Himself if He would. One point of self-evacuation implies the possibility of total self-extinction. Of all forms of stark staring irrationality some of these theo- ries of Kenosis seem to bear the palm. We are far enough from using St. Pauls words in their original sense of moral disparagement, but it does seem as if, on this point sonie excellent divines, like the late Dr. Howard Crosby, might be fair~y charged with understanding neither what they say nor whereof they affirm. 166 Does the Church Believe in the Incarnation ~ [Feb., We shall be accused of undertaking to establish only a differ- ence of degree, not of kind, between our Lord and his people. But surely we are not responsible if Christ has said; Go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father, and to my God, and your God. And we solemnly protest that it was not we who suggested to St. Paul the words Heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ. But, apart from this, is the distinction between Perfection and Im- perfection, between Redeemer and Redeemed, only a difference of degree, and not of kind? It is true, we are promised, as by St. Peter, that we shall become partakers of the Divine nature. But this is only promised to us by virtue of being partakers of His fulness in whom dwells, undivided, that central, immedi- ate unsullied plenitude of the Godhead, which from Him is parted off, in various streams, to natures which have, by his mediation, been in a measure cleansed from the defilement of original and actual sin, and prepared for their share in this self-communication of the Creator and his gifts. Original and derivative~ center and circumference, fulness that gives and emptiness that receives, will always differ essentially in kind. Those that have dipped a little into Roman Catholic theolo- gy have been struck by one peculiarity, namely, its intensified monotheism, which seems sometimes almost as cold as the colder forms of Unitarianism, although never, like Unitarian- ism, seeking relief in semi-pantheism. The reason of this is that, notwithstanding the victory of Antioch at Chalcedon, it has really been Alexandria which has prevailed (perhaps inevit- ably) in the Catholic Church, and has absorbed the humanity of our Lord in his Deity in a way which has left little more than the empty scheme and show of our nature in Him. In modern Protestantism the true humanity of Christ is coming at length to its rights, and we are beginning to enjoy something of the infinite flexibility and infinite adaptiveness of the life of our Lord. Of course, in all ages this has penetrated at a thou- sand points through the hard crust of formula, and has always been able to fall back for its support upon fundamental declar- ations of the Church. But now at length it does seem that we may begin to enjoy the united Godhead and manhood of Christ without the previous necessity of translating everything into 1892.] Does the Church Believe in the Incarnation ~ 167 elaborate definitions, to enjoy it in a free and spontaneous con- sciousness, that reaps the benefit of the ages of perpetnal read- justments of thought, without the necessity of always involving itself in them anew. But this final equilibrium and stable union of the conflicting elements of the Christian consciousness will not come to pass without a vigorous endeavor to allure it back into the wilderness from which it is escaping. On the one hand, able and excellent divines, of whom Dr. Bushnell is the type, will try to persuade us, in the face of Chnrch and Script- ure alike, to please ourselves, in place of the general manhood of Christ, with a misty and mystical somewhat, called the Di- vine Humanity, not meaning, apparently, the Divine Personal- ity, nor the Divine Word, but a something latent in the God- head until it is revealed in Christ, something whose relation, as Incarnate, to the absolute God, involves immeasurably greater difficulties than are involved in the relation of a human soul to the Divine Word, while on the other hand its relation to the Saviours human body is implicated in insoluble and re- volting perplexities. This combined reaction of Apollinarianism and Eutychianism, cast into new forms, and affording, over against defects on the other hand, nourishment to a deep and mystical piety, may yet have a wide prevalency for a good while. It will achieve its predestined good, work its predes- tined evil, and sooner or later will amiably die out. The main reaction will be, as always, on the part of established doctrine, petrified in its own formulas, refusing to acknowledge the legit- imate development to which they point. The Good, once the Best, refusing to yield to the Better, born out of itself, falls back into obstructiveness and becomes the Bad. So it was in the days when the Jews, in the name of the Law and the Prophets, crucified the Hope of Israel, to whom the Law and the Prophets bore witness, and so it is, in lessening and still lessening measure, to this day. A large proportion, perhaps the major part, of those who are endeavoring to prevent the extension and completion of the doc- trine of the Incarnation, so that its reasonableness and its reli- giousness may be fused into the grand simplicity of Scriptural truth and Christian perception, belong to the school of acrid, per- secuting Protestantism. But now that the attempt is making 168 Does the Church Believe in the Incarnation? [Feb., to set the long petrified determinations of Catholic Theology once more into flow, that they may be cast into a more adequate and natural form, it is questionable whether a considerable share of these good people may not think it the least of two evils to go back into the old camp, and subordinate themselves to the Roman Captain, who to be sure, will be found in many respects innovating and flexible enough to displease them, being, as the Greeks call him, the first Protestant and father of modern Rationalism, but at least will allow them. to lie down in calm immobility, nuder his protecting wing, upon the definitions of the great Theological Councils of the undivided church, and to guard these as if they were to remain forever as majestically life- less as the giant statues of Ipsambul. Richard Rothe, that man of marvelous insight, has struck the central defect of the Catholic Theology of the Person of Christ. It is, that it attempts to bring about, in thought, a unity between God and Man through mere creation. But there can no more be a true and final unity between God and Man by mere creation than there can be an original holiness of man by mere creation. Innocence there can be, but not Holi- ness, which is only possible through personal appropriation. So the soul of Christ could be created in rectitude, and in purity of all its instincts. But a complete and conclusive unity can only result from a steadily advancing ethical appropriation of steadily advancing self-revelations of God in the humanity of Christ, maintained until the end, as it has been maintained. So long as our Lord was yet on earth, He knew Himself sin- less, but He knew Himself yet unconsummate, and therefore could not allow goodness, in its absolute sense, to be affirmed of Him, since, even in sinless humanity on earth, there is an ele- ment of materiality which God may use, but in which God can- not dwell. But when after the suffering of death, both soul and body are transfigured and eternally glorified, thenceforth every element of the Redeemer is entirely appropriated and possessed by the Godhead, so that for all the purposes of love and trust there is no occasion to make any distinction whatever between the Human and the Divine. We may therefore fairly say, that, abstractly, in the decisiona of the four great Councils, supplemented by the condemnation 1892.] Does the Church Believe in the incarnation? 169 of IMlonothelitism, the Church has set her seal of acknowledg- ment on all the elements of a true belief in the doctrine of the Incarnation, but as yet she has in practice largely taken away with one hand what she has given with the other. But that part of the Church which recognizes, with Professor Sanday, that the Reformation, beginning in the sixteenth century, is still going on, this part of the Church, principally represented by Protestant thinkers, but by no means exclusively, is con- scions that while the religious needs of Christian mankind have been sufficiently provided for in the doctrine of the Incarna- tion as it stands, its rational needs are too much overlooked. Their development of the doctrine is sure to be condemned by unbelievers as irrationally mystical, and by the elder school of believers as rationalistically shallow. No doubt it will be suffi- ciently amenable to both charges. St. Paul avowed that he had to content himself with partial glimpses of heavenly truth, and it is not likely that we shall gain the advantage of him in the present stage of being. How can finiteness search out infini- tude, sinfulness perfection, fractional being central complete- ness? But there is reason to hope for a relatively complete and final readjustment of this central doctrine of Christianity, so that for a good while to come we may be able to answer with a more confident affirmation than at present the question, Does the Church believe in the Incarnation? CHARLEs C. STARBUOR. Andover, Mass. 170 Distinguishing iJIiar1e~ on Ballots. [Feb., ARTICLE VJ.DISTINGUISHJNG MARKS ON BALLOTS. AMONG the various experiments which have been tried dur- ing the past twenty years in the direction of ballot reform, the prohibition of distinguishing marks upon ballots has had a conspicuous and persistent place. The object sought to be accomplished has been to ensure secrecy in voting, and thus to prevent both bribery and intimidation, certainly a proper and desirable purpose. The enactments adopted have all been of the same general character embracing in their fully developed form three general features. First, with the idea of preventing the ballot when voted, from revealing by any external sign, what party or faction it is cast for, the law aims to make all ballots uniform in color, material, arrangement, and style of print. Next, in order that no individual ballot may be traced to its voter, whether with his connivance or not, there is a pro- hibition against placing any special marks upon it, whereby it may be known who cast it. And lastly to make these provis- ions effectual and secure their observance, the laws usually de- clare that any ballot which does not conform to them shall be void and not counted. In this Article we shall briefly review some of the experiences which have followed these enactments as disclosed in the reports of disputed election cases growing out of them, and will add some practical suggestions to which they give rise. Let us take the three features of legislation above referred to in their order; and first, the requirements which aims to secure a uniform external appearance to all ballots. The law generally directs that all ballots shall be of plain, white paper. This seems clear enough, but it soon appears that there are various shades of white paper easily distinguishable from each other, and different qualities and grades of paper all plainly discernible. In consequence, this legal provision has not only proved inef- fectual to prevent intentional diversities, but has given rise to numerous controversies as to the validity of ballots which were perhaps prepared in good faith and in supposed conformity to

170 Distinguishing iJIiar1e~ on Ballots. [Feb., ARTICLE VJ.DISTINGUISHJNG MARKS ON BALLOTS. AMONG the various experiments which have been tried dur- ing the past twenty years in the direction of ballot reform, the prohibition of distinguishing marks upon ballots has had a conspicuous and persistent place. The object sought to be accomplished has been to ensure secrecy in voting, and thus to prevent both bribery and intimidation, certainly a proper and desirable purpose. The enactments adopted have all been of the same general character embracing in their fully developed form three general features. First, with the idea of preventing the ballot when voted, from revealing by any external sign, what party or faction it is cast for, the law aims to make all ballots uniform in color, material, arrangement, and style of print. Next, in order that no individual ballot may be traced to its voter, whether with his connivance or not, there is a pro- hibition against placing any special marks upon it, whereby it may be known who cast it. And lastly to make these provis- ions effectual and secure their observance, the laws usually de- clare that any ballot which does not conform to them shall be void and not counted. In this Article we shall briefly review some of the experiences which have followed these enactments as disclosed in the reports of disputed election cases growing out of them, and will add some practical suggestions to which they give rise. Let us take the three features of legislation above referred to in their order; and first, the requirements which aims to secure a uniform external appearance to all ballots. The law generally directs that all ballots shall be of plain, white paper. This seems clear enough, but it soon appears that there are various shades of white paper easily distinguishable from each other, and different qualities and grades of paper all plainly discernible. In consequence, this legal provision has not only proved inef- fectual to prevent intentional diversities, but has given rise to numerous controversies as to the validity of ballots which were perhaps prepared in good faith and in supposed conformity to 1892.] Distir~Yui8hing lI/larks on Ballots. 171 law. In Illinois such a controversy occurred over ballots of a paper bluish white, and ruled with red lines. And the Court held them to be valid if cast in good faith. But in Oregon similar ballots were held to be void. In Connecticut ballots of white paper having a black line around the border were held to be void.* In Indiana it was decided that the use of a paper of a special grade though so manifest as to destroy the secrecy of the ballot, the names of the candidates being easily seen through, was not illegal. If the shape or size of the ballot is not specified by law there may be varieties in these respects which amount to distinguishing marks without illegality. Thus in Texas special ballots of a diamond shape were used and were held to be valid. And where the law directed that the ballots should not be more than two and one half inches wide, a Congressional Committee reported in favor of admitting some which were a quarter ot an inch wider. When the law speci- fies in what manner the ballot shall be folded, this is essential, and ballots in great numbers have been rejected on account of the clumsiness of voters failing to fold them with exactness. In the effort at uniformity, most of the States which have adopted this kind of legislation have given specific directions how the face of the ballot shall be arranged and printed. Thus the Connecticut law provides that the name of the party issuing the ballot, the title of the office voted for, and the names of the candidates shall be printed straight across the face of the ballot in black ink and in type of uniform size tG be prescribed by the Secretary of State. In tbese provisions as experience has shown lies abundant opportunity for doubt and more or less honest controversy, resulting in wholesale dis- franchisement and other and even more disastrous consequen * This occurred in 1883 and the election of a Democratic governor turned on the acceptance or rejection of these ballots by a Republican Legislature, the ballots having been declared illegal by the Courts. It is worth noting here in contrast with recent proceedings in New York State, that the Republican candidate for governor publicly announced that he would consider it dishonorable to take advantage of the techni- cality; and the Legislature in the same spirit, as its first act before pro- ceeding to the election of a governor unanimously passed a special act validating the black ballots. Having thus given to the democratic candidate a legalized majority of the popular vote it then proceeded to declare him duly elected. 172 Di8tinguis/dng Jffark8 on~ Ballots. [Feb., ces. In lhe case of an election in Hartford 286 Independent ballots headed Citizens tickets, were thrown ont by the Courts, there being no such party or organization known to general politics. (One jndge dissenting.) A more serious and widespread dispnte arose over the word For preceding the titles of the offices voted for, it being gravely contended that the use of the word was a distinguishing mark which invalidated the votes. In Michigan a similar controversy oc- curred because the word For was no~ on the ballot. In both States the Courts held that the use or disuse of the word is immaterial, but not until irreparable mischief, at least in Con- necticut, had been accomplished. The Connecticut law above quoted, requires the ballots to be printed, which makes all written ballots void, and all the ballots of one political party have been declared illegal because no candidates name was printed under the title to one of the offices, no candidate for it having been named by that party. It was also held that this defect in the ballot could not be cured by the voter writing or pasting a name in the vacant place. The printing on ballots of any picture or device however minute has been repeatedly held to be a distinguishing mark which renders the ballot void. Thus in Pennsylvania the picture of an eagle so placed that it could be seen when the ballot was folded was held to be illegal. in Indiana the headings of a ballot, though so printed as to be easily read through the ballot when folded were held not to be a distinguishing mark. In Mississippi the Courts decided that printers dashes on the ballot were distinguishing marks, and that a dotted line instead of a dash was for the same reason illegal. A Congressional Committe however, disregarded this decision and admitted the votes. In Mississippi also, the print- ing of the names on the ballots somewhat closer together than the law prescribed, was held to be a distinguishing mark. In Alabama 601 ballots were rejected by the Courts for having the words State at large after the heading Electors for Presi- dent and Vice-President; and in a disputed Congressional case from North Carolina, the Committee rejected 108 ballots on the ground that their heading Republican ticket was a dis- tinguishing mark. In Indiana however, it has been repeatedly held that headings on ballots are not distinguishing marks; and 1892.] Distinguishing Afiarks on Ballots. 173 in Texas that the names of the party candidates for President and Vice-President on the tickets for Presidential Electors did not invalidate them. In Missouri the law permitted headings of not more than three words indicating the political character of ticket, and it was held that a combination ticket headed iRepublican, Independent, Greenback was good. Fi~om the foregoing which contains but a partial list of the numberless disputes and conflicting decisions which have fol- lowed the attempts of Legislatures to secure uniformity in the general appearance of ballots, it will be seen that the system has not achieved the most flattering success. In fact ,so con- spicuous has been its failure that the cause of ballot reform, still clinging to the idea of uniformity in ballots, has taken a new departure and moved forward to the ground of having an official ballot prepared and furnished by the State, and allowing no other to be voted. This radical innovation upon previous electoral methods has been necessarily accompanied by compli- cated and cumbersome provisions in order to make it effectual and has introduced many serious evils which the public will soon begin, if it has not already to appreciate. As respects the elimination by it, however, of all questions relating to the validity of ballots recent experiences have rudely dispelled such cheerful illusions. In New York the Courts have disfranchised at a sweep all the voters forming the majority party of a cer- tain election district because the ballots cast by them were en- dorsed with the wrong district number, although the mistake had been made by the State officials; the same ruling has been followed in New Jersey in a city election contest in Newark. And in Connecticut where the law provides that the Secretary of State shall furnish a sample ballot, this did not prevent dis- putes arising over ballots which corresponded precisely with the sample. The prohibition against placing special marks on individual ballots in such manner as to indicate who cast the same has been about equally prolific of dispute, litigations, and unjust disfranchisements. Among the innumerable subjects of con- troversy over the last State election in Connecticut was the rejection by election officials of a large number of ballots on account of an almost undiscernible speck upon each of them voL. xx. 13 174 Distinguishing Marks on Ballots. [Feb., left in the process of printing. In the late election in New York also, ballots were rejected for similar blurs left by the printer. In a Congressional ease from Ohio however, the Committee admitted a ballot which had a name and two columns of figures written on its back, it being shown that this was accidental ; also four ballots on the faces of which the per- sons voting the same had written their names, perhaps also by accident. In another case from California where the election judges had marked the ballot with the words Challenged Challenge overruled, the Committee reported that by the strict letter of the law this was a distinguishing mark which would invalidate the ballot, but on the ground that the law was for the voters protection, and not his disfranchisement, the ballot was allowed. In another Congressional case the Committee admitted a ballot on which the voter had written his name in ink which struck through and showed on the other side. In Ireland where the law requires the cross mark to be made by the voter on the right hand side of the candidates name, it was held that a mark on the left side did not invalidate the vote as a distinguishing mark. But in Canada the contrary was de- cided, and also that any other mark than a cross would render the ballot void. In Connecticut the Court held that the pecu- liar folding of certain ballots was a distinguishing mark, and rejected them, although the law gave no direction as to the manner of folding ballots. It is probable that had the ques- tion ever been legally tested the ingenious dodge of a New York candidate for alderman would also have been held to be a distinguishing mark, namely, the impregnation of all his own. tickets with essence of peppermint, whereby his constituents were not only able easily to select the proper ticket but gave indubitable evidence when they voted that they had done so. It only remains to refer to these provisions of legislation upon distinguishing marks, which declare that ballots contain- ing them, or in other words those which the election officials. choose to suspect of containing them, shall be void and not counted. If the dangers arising from reposing such despotic power over the right of suffrage in the hands of men who are extremely likely to be conspicuous for party fanaticism, ignor- ance and irresponsibility has not been made apparent by past 1892.1 Distinauishing Marks on Ballots. 175 experiences, it would be in vain to enlarge upon the subject. It must also be evident from what has been said, not only how futile is any attempt to limit the voter to any particular form of ballot with the purpose of preventing distinguishing marks if he chooses to make them, but how impossible it must be in any case to determine with certainty whether some peculiarity in a ballot is really a distinguishing mark or not~ From the nature of the case, the voter is allowed a large de- gree of freedom in altering his ballot, and when diversity is thus permitted and expected, there are numberless ways in which, by corrupt connivance, distinguishing marks may be made which the law cannot prevent, nor the most rigid scru- tiny detect. The erasure of a particular name and the substi- tution of another, perhaps that of the voter himself, is entirely within his rights, if in good faith, and could not be objected to. And while the clumsy folding of the ballot by an innocent voter, or the grimy mark left by a workingmans finger, or the accidental misplacement of a cross mark made in a dark closet, will be liable to be pounced upon by lynx-eyed partisans as manifestly fraudulent, hundreds of other ballots bearing insig- nia of corruption which are perfectly manifest to the initiated, but deftly concealed from all others, will pass unquestioned. Must all attempts then to secure secrecy in voting be given up? Is there no other remedy for the acknowledged evils aimed at? We think there is such a remedy; a very simple one, and likely to be as effectual as any legal remedy can be expected to be while at the same time it endangers no rights of the innocent voter. It is this: Abandon all dictation as to the style of ballots, and the arbitrary plan of declaring them void for every real or fancied peculiarity. Adopt the official envel- ope and booth system of voting, whereby it becomes impossible to know what kind of a ballot the voter casts, and thus dispose of the whole question of distinguishing marks so far as the external appearance of the ballot is concerned. Then to pre- vent private marks and the corrupt tracing of voters by means of them, some special legislation may be had of the following general character. Make it a criminal offense to solicit or con- spire with any voter to make such marks; the fine to be large and payable one half to the person who shall prosecute therefor, 176 Distinguishing .Ztliarks on Ballots. [Feb., and the other half to the State. In addition to this let the election officials and counters be sworn not to disclose to any person information respecting the appearance of any particular vote, with heavy penalties for violation of such oath recovera- ble as before, and also the right of a civil action for a specified ~um as damages on the part of the person whose vote is thus dis- closed. These provisions together with another that votes for less than ten persons shall not be officially reported or recorded except under the general head of scattering would embarrass the business of tracing voters by distingnishing marks with so many difficulties and risks that it would not be pursued on any considerable scale and thus the evil would be chiefly if not wholly eradicated. But even if the method proposed should accomplish no more in suppressing bribery and intimi- dation than those we have been considering, it at least would not add to its failure the reproach of causing incessant and dangerous controversies over the validity of ballots, and the wholesale disfranchisement of innocent voters by the operation of cast iron rules which are unavailing to check or detect the guilty. HENRY T. BLAKE. 1892.1 Taxation of Church Property. I 7T ARTICLE VII.TAXATION OF CHURCH PROPERTY. A POPULAR and attractive writer, the Rev. Dr. Wayland, of iPhiladeiphia, in a recent Article in a weekly newspaper, objected to exempting church property from taxation npon the gronnd that such an exemption is in fact State support of the Church, and a virtual union of Church and State. It is submitted that the argument of his interesting article was more plausible than sound. The object of taxation is to raise money to pay the necessary expenses of government. To fulfil the proper purposes of civil government, money ia required for public service. Paying taxes in cash supplies that necessity. But there are many legitimate fnnctions of the State which are fulfilled directly by service. The inilitiaman contributes his share to the public defense by doing duty in the National Guard, and he is exempt from military taxes. in many of our towns, the owner of property contribntes to the maintenance of highways by keeping a defined part of the roads in repair. This is called in the country, working out the road tax, and he is excused from a highway tax. Per- sonal service may be a fair equivalent to a cash payment upon a tax bill. There are certain kinds of property, whose use in the nature of things helps to lessen the burden of taxation, by preventi~ng crime and disorder, and it also promotes some of the legitimate purposes of government without direct expense to the State. The true purposes of government are usually said to be order and progress. Both of these terms should include the develop- ment of virtue and intelligence in the people. When property is used exclusively for the purpose of developing virtue and intelligence, it is working out by itself and directly the true ends of government. Whon a commercial element is added, something comes in which ought to pay taxes. Church prop- erty has, or should have, no commercial or trade side to it. It should be devoted to the development of virtue and intelligence in the people, by its use for worship and the culture of moral-

1892.1 Taxation of Church Property. I 7T ARTICLE VII.TAXATION OF CHURCH PROPERTY. A POPULAR and attractive writer, the Rev. Dr. Wayland, of iPhiladeiphia, in a recent Article in a weekly newspaper, objected to exempting church property from taxation npon the gronnd that such an exemption is in fact State support of the Church, and a virtual union of Church and State. It is submitted that the argument of his interesting article was more plausible than sound. The object of taxation is to raise money to pay the necessary expenses of government. To fulfil the proper purposes of civil government, money ia required for public service. Paying taxes in cash supplies that necessity. But there are many legitimate fnnctions of the State which are fulfilled directly by service. The inilitiaman contributes his share to the public defense by doing duty in the National Guard, and he is exempt from military taxes. in many of our towns, the owner of property contribntes to the maintenance of highways by keeping a defined part of the roads in repair. This is called in the country, working out the road tax, and he is excused from a highway tax. Per- sonal service may be a fair equivalent to a cash payment upon a tax bill. There are certain kinds of property, whose use in the nature of things helps to lessen the burden of taxation, by preventi~ng crime and disorder, and it also promotes some of the legitimate purposes of government without direct expense to the State. The true purposes of government are usually said to be order and progress. Both of these terms should include the develop- ment of virtue and intelligence in the people. When property is used exclusively for the purpose of developing virtue and intelligence, it is working out by itself and directly the true ends of government. Whon a commercial element is added, something comes in which ought to pay taxes. Church prop- erty has, or should have, no commercial or trade side to it. It should be devoted to the development of virtue and intelligence in the people, by its use for worship and the culture of moral- 178 Taxation of Church Property. [Feb., ity and wisdom. It may be used for purposes of ecciesiasticism or for the propagation of intellectual creeds and philosophies. These purposes, so far as the State is concerned, are incidental and immaterial. With them the State has no organic union. With the Church as an ecclesiastical or theological affair the American State has nothing to do, but with health and virtue and general intelligence, directly promoted by the unselfish use of church property, the American State has much to do. But it may be said that all branches of industry, which make no appeals to vice, are also working out public virtue. That is true, but they also have a trade side. The church, the public school houses, hospitals, asylums, museums, the parks, and the cemeteries, develop the good sentiments of human na-. ture, and are all directly, and without a commercial purpose, working out the proper ends of civil government. It may be urged that the public school houses and parks are exempt from taxation because they are the immediate result of taxation. But the churches, the hospitals and the asylums, come pretty near to being the direct result of public charity, and charity may claim exemption for its results as fairly as an actual tax payment. The reason for relief from taxation in each case is that there has been the fulfilment of a public purpose. The salary paid to a teacher in a public school is the immediate result of taxation, but it loses its sanctity of exemption as soon as its owner puts it into the activities of trade. There are other classes of property whose uses are semi-char- itable, and semi-commercial, like the small deposits in Savings Banks, the property of a purely mutual life or benefit associa- tion, which the law in part exempts from the burden of taxa- tion. There are exemptions of a hundred or two hundred dol- lars in cash, and in some states, of a small homestead, which are generally approved. Governments provide boards for abating taxes in special cases of hardship to property owners. All these apparent indulgences are dictated by the decencies of benevolence and charity, and it is quite too late in the day to argue that benevolence and charity have no place in the func- tions of civil government. Government makes slow progress in developing either virtue or intelligence if it excludes charity from its activities. 1892.] Taccation of Church Property. 179 It appears then that property which is used for the promo tion of virtue and intelligence, and for no purpose of trade or profit to the proprietor, is working out, in its own channels, the tine and high purposes of an enlightened State. It not only fulfils its part toward maintaining government, but it carries a surplus into the treasury, by preventing crime and encouraging peace, by developing intelligence and patriotism, by elevating the citizen, and by developing manhood. These are the natural and orderly results of the use of property for churches and hospitals and asylums and patriotic memorials and resting places of the dead, and the tax gatherer may well pass such property by, for it has already paid its proper tribute to the State. Such an exemption from taxation is no exemption at all from service to the public. Nor is it a gift of the State to the Church. It is not a concession to, or a union with, ecclesiasticism or theology. Of course, this Article does not discuss the question whether property which has been set apart to the service of Almighty God, who is the source of all government, is for that reason to be exempt from taxation. That is an inquiry independent of Dr. Waylands as it is of this Article. 180 Independence in PoliticsA Protest. [Feb., ARTICLE YIII.INDEPENDENCE IN POLITICSA PRO TEST. JUST one word of protest against the formulation of the true theory and philosophy of Independence in Politics as given by ex-Governor Chamberlain in his admirable sketch of the career of the late James Russell Lowell. No intel- ligent person will deny that we are in pressing need of greater independence in political action. But every intelligent person will admit that an erroneons conception of independence in poli~ tics, generally accepted, would be a public calamity. And it is here submitted that a notion of independence which would withdraw all independent persons from the active work of gov- erning would be erroneous. This, in effect, would seem to be the logical result of the course advocated in these words: It is for the interest of the best men in both parties that there should be a neutral body, not large enough to form a party by itself, nay, which would lose its power for good if it attempted to form such a party, and yet large enough to moderate be- tween both, and to make both more cautious in their choice of candidates and in their connivance with evil practices. This idea would seem to require that men of independent mind should come out of the regular party organizations lest their judgments should be warped by party conflict, and their inde- pendence impaired by party zeal. It would remove them entirely from the heat and turmoil of party strife into the clear empyrean above the din of party clamor from whose dizzy height they may look down pityingly upon less philosoph- ical mortals engaged in the distracting but necessary work of government. This notion of independence, it is submitted, is essentially vicious. It is convincing to the thoughtless and mis- leading to the thoughtful. It is opposed alike to the require- ments of patriotism and the needs of our politics. Its neces- sary tendency, if not its avowed object, is progressively to re- move men from all active part in the conduct of parties just in proportion as their minds become enlightened and their views

180 Independence in PoliticsA Protest. [Feb., ARTICLE YIII.INDEPENDENCE IN POLITICSA PRO TEST. JUST one word of protest against the formulation of the true theory and philosophy of Independence in Politics as given by ex-Governor Chamberlain in his admirable sketch of the career of the late James Russell Lowell. No intel- ligent person will deny that we are in pressing need of greater independence in political action. But every intelligent person will admit that an erroneons conception of independence in poli~ tics, generally accepted, would be a public calamity. And it is here submitted that a notion of independence which would withdraw all independent persons from the active work of gov- erning would be erroneous. This, in effect, would seem to be the logical result of the course advocated in these words: It is for the interest of the best men in both parties that there should be a neutral body, not large enough to form a party by itself, nay, which would lose its power for good if it attempted to form such a party, and yet large enough to moderate be- tween both, and to make both more cautious in their choice of candidates and in their connivance with evil practices. This idea would seem to require that men of independent mind should come out of the regular party organizations lest their judgments should be warped by party conflict, and their inde- pendence impaired by party zeal. It would remove them entirely from the heat and turmoil of party strife into the clear empyrean above the din of party clamor from whose dizzy height they may look down pityingly upon less philosoph- ical mortals engaged in the distracting but necessary work of government. This notion of independence, it is submitted, is essentially vicious. It is convincing to the thoughtless and mis- leading to the thoughtful. It is opposed alike to the require- ments of patriotism and the needs of our politics. Its neces- sary tendency, if not its avowed object, is progressively to re- move men from all active part in the conduct of parties just in proportion as their minds become enlightened and their views 1892.] Independence in PoliticsA Protest. 181 of patriotism more elevated. The leaven is to be kept by itself instead of being permitted to leaven the lump. It goes with- ont saying that this kind of independence is assumed to be the highest, most patriotic form of political action. If, therefore, its sonndness be conceded, it must attract to its espousal all who become inspired with a lofty sense of public duty. The natural result must be that instead of improving in their meth- ods, political organizations are to remain permanently at their present dead level of partisan blindness and depravity. For as soon as a man of superior virtue appears among them, he must pass over to the neutral group of superior men in order to preserve his own superiority. This so-called independence is, in truth, an abdication of natural leadership. It is a deliberate turning over of the masses, who must be led by some one, to leaders morally and intellectually inferior. It is a shirking of patriotic duty and an open disregard of the maxim, noblesse oblige. It substitutes precept for example as the best means of teaching political morality. And it teaches by implication that they who remain within party lines, are justified in what they do, for it virtually recognizes two standards of public action one for independents, the other for party men.~ True independence in politics, as in all other relations of life, consists simply and solely in acting as ones honest judgment approves, uncontrolled by prejudice or passion. It may be found within or without party lines. It may be shown in the support of ones party ticket, in spite of the vehement depreca- tion of ones social and business friends, as well as in the bolt- ing of the party nomination, in defiance of the bitter denuncia- tion of ones party associates. No class of neutrals~ have a monopoly of independence. In fact, one may be below the level of partisanship as well as above it. Always to be encour- aged, independence in political action is vastly more useful to the public within party ranks than without them. If, as Gov- ernor Chamberlain says, the true theory of independence in politics, presupposes the existence of parties, and recog- nizes their necessity, where, in the name of all that is sensible, could men of independent character be better employed than in shaping the policy and directing the action of these organi. zations whose existence is a necessity of government? The 182 Independence -in Politic8A Protest. [Feb., precepts of the reformers would have infinitely more influence with the masses, if proclaimed by leaders in apparent party sympathy with them, than they have when promulgated by a body which ostentatiously stands aloof, in presumable hostil- ity to the objects which the masses have at heart. As was said above, to follow ones honest judgment is true independence. That judgment may be wholly wrong and yet the action based upon it, altogether right from an independent standpoint. Enlighten the judgment, and more wisdom in conduct should result. Thoronghly conscientious persons did things a~ century ago, which individuals of our day, no more conscientions than they, would scorn to do, simply because their judgments or consciences are more enlightened. This change in conduct is not because the people of to-day are better, but because the times are better. So should the Independents remember that if their sense of duty leads them to a course differing widely from that of party men, it may not be because they are more independent, but because their vision is clearer. The man who always votes the straight party ticket may do so from ~s independent a belief in the patriotism of his course, as the man who invariably scratches when he votes at all. The latter may at times act more wisely, and yet be no more inde- pendent of control. He alone lacks independence in politics, whose conduct is controlled by other considerations than his sense of duty. Independence is not to be measured by freedom from party affiliation. The test is, spontaneity of action, not wisdom of selection. It would seem, therefore, that no higher form of political activity, could invite the energies of the man of culture, than the work of inspiring higher ideals of conduct in the ranks of parties themselves. And it is hard to conceive of a better mode of doing this, than by association with party men, to prove to them that possession of high ideals is not in- consistent with capacity for practical management, to show them that practical politics means simply seeking to accomplish by natural methodsthose objects which must be secured through the agency of government, that corruption, so far from being a necessary accompaniment, is positively antagonistic to politics and that to be a practical politician, is not necessarily to stand sponsor for acts that will not bear the light of day. But says 1892.1 Independence in PoliticsA Protest. 183 ~14overnor Chamberlain, of politics: No other relation of life is more certain to create obliquity of vision, to distort and fal- sify all objects which seem to be in the pathway of success, And as partisanship disfigures its opponents, so it sanctilies its supporters. The sad, inevitable result is that things political are seen by the murky light of prejudice and passion, of inter- est and habitude, and not in the clear light of reason and patri- otism. If parties are necessary or inevitable, then there must be a force among us which can check their evils, restrain their excesses, and from time to time, turn the tide of party success. Every word of this is true, and yet in it all there is no sugges- tion of any need for a neutral body~~ of independents. These Independents are themselves a living proof of the power of men to preserve within party lines that clearness of vision which sees through the murky light of prejudice and passion, of interest and habitude, the action, which reason and pa- triotism would dictate. Else how did they become Indepen- dents? They surely were not born so. They have belonged to party, felt the thrill of the esprit du corps, rejoiced at party triumph, and grieved at party defeat. They were under all those sinister influences which tend to create obliquity of vision~ and in spite of them rose to their present serene height of independent, philosophic thought. Having reached this stage of development, they determined to withdraw from all party affiliations. Suppose they had determined otherwise, would they have been less philosophic, would their vision have been less clear, or their prejudice and passion more intense? Would they, simply by remaining in the party to which they had formerly belonged, have subjected themselves to the control of those influences to which they had just proved themselves superior? It can scarcely be claimed that they would. It may be that the course which their sense of duty impelled them to take at a given time, necessarily took them outside all party organizations. Be it so. That is no reason why they should remain outside always. If circumstances made them Indepen- dents, what but circumstances should keep them so? No prin- ciple is involved in their attitude. There is no virtue in so- called independence or neutrality. A man should, indeed, obey his convictions regardless of whether or not they may lead him 184 Independence in PoliticsA Protest. [Feb., outside the party fold. If, in consequence, he finds himself without a party, his condition is his, and his countrys misfor- tune. He loses because his influence is greatly lessened, and the country loses because the value of his services is much impaired. In truth, a man is independent only so long as he is indifferent as to whether or not he may be in a party. The moment he determines as a matter of permanent policy, to re- main outside all party organizations, his independence is gone, he has committed himself to a line of action, in advance of the occurrence of the circumstances, which alone should decide his course. His judgment is no longer free from bias. He has a standing as an Independent to maintain and his anti-parti- sanship is as likely to create obliquity of vision as is the parti- sanship 9f his less independent~ neighbor. Having once pronounced in favor of a man or a policy, he is no less subject to the narrowing effects of pride of opinion than are common mortals. Of all the delusions to which modern politics have given birth, none is more absurd than the belief that a man whose self-estimate has placed him above and beyond the con- trol of parties, is specially freed from the ordinary infirmities of human judgment, when that judgment is applied to things political. Nor is there any real weight in the captivating notion of a balance of power which from time to time~ will turn the tide of party success. This proposal for a see-saw adjustment of our political action has no terrors for the practical politi- cians. The spoilsinen of either party would gladly contract, in consideration of independent men keeping their hands off the party organizations, to stay out in the cold half the time. Each interval of adversity would be industrially employed in fasten- ing more securely the grip on the party organization, in readi- ness for the inevitable return to power when the spoilsmen of the opposing party should, in turn, have called down upon them the Independents chastening rod. Meanwhile the public would be badly governed all the time. Men would come and men would go, but the river of corruption would run on forever. While the Independents would imagine that they were ful- film the prophecies, they would simply be changin the 1892.] Independence in PoliticsA Protest. 185 offices. Such is the feast to which this mistaken independence in politics invites us. We need men of intellect and independent character, not to preach virtue to corrupt politicians, but to supplant those poli- ticians, and to practice the virtue themselves. We need an independence in politics, which not only presupposes the exist- ence, and recognizes the necessity of parties, but which pro- poses, itself, by its own efforts and through methods which it approves, to use those parties as means to accomplish such ends of government as reason and patriotism demand. We need men who will be as ready to act with a party as against it. We need that spirit of independence that will lead men, if need be, to break from partyfor principle but not on principle. LINTON SATTERTHWAIT. 186 Current Literature. [Feb., CURRENT LITERATURE. THE BEING OF GOD.*~Thi5 volume comprises ten lectures delivered before the Episcopal Theological School in Cambridge, Mass. The Rev. Dr. Gray, Dean of the School and professor of Systematic Theology, had leave of absence for a year in the hope of restoration of his health. These lectures were given as part of the arrangement for temporarily supplying his place. But before the opening of the college year in which these lec- tures were delivered, Dean Gray died. The lectures treat the following topics Preliminary Fundamental Questions; Argu- ments for the Existence of God, the Cosmological and Teleologi- cal; The Moral and Ontological Arguments; Transition to the Attributes; Omnipresence, Eternity and Omnipotence of God Omniscience, Holiness and Love of God; Christian Conscious- ness in relation to the Doctrine of the Trinity ; The Historical Revelation of the Trinity ; Its Interpretative Revelation ; The Speculative Construction of the Doctrine of the Trinity. BAcoNs GENEsIs OF GENEsIs.fThis work is designed to explain the processes by which Biblical criticism has discovered different documents in the Pentateuch. The book consists of three parts. Part I is introductory and treats of the principles and methods of the Higher Criticism in general and explains its procedure in the analysis of the Pentateuch in particular. Among the topics which are treated in this part of the volume are the difference between the lower or textual, and the higher, or literary and historical, criticism; illustrations of the success and usefulness of literary criticism as applied to extra-Biblical literature, to the Psalms and to Isaiah; the function of external and of internal evidence, and the application of evi- dence of both kinds to the determination of the sources of the Pentateuch. The author points out very clearly the literary and historical phenomena which have led Old Testament scholars, with great unanimity, to hold to four principal sources of the * The Being of Cod as Unity and Irinity; by P. H. STEENSTRA, D.D., Professor of Old Testament Literature and Exegesis in the Episcopal Theological School, Cambridge, Mass. Boston and New York: Houghton, Muffin and Co. 1891, pp. vi. and 269. ~ The Genesis of Genesis; A Study of the Documentary Sources of the First Book of Moses in accordance with the results of Critical Science, illustrating the presence of Bibles within the Bible. By BENJAMIN WIsNER BACON, with an Introduction by Professor George F. Moore of Andovei Theological Seminary. Hartford: The Student Publishing Co. 1892. Pp. xix. and 352. $2.50.

186 Current Literature. [Feb., CURRENT LITERATURE. THE BEING OF GOD.*~Thi5 volume comprises ten lectures delivered before the Episcopal Theological School in Cambridge, Mass. The Rev. Dr. Gray, Dean of the School and professor of Systematic Theology, had leave of absence for a year in the hope of restoration of his health. These lectures were given as part of the arrangement for temporarily supplying his place. But before the opening of the college year in which these lec- tures were delivered, Dean Gray died. The lectures treat the following topics Preliminary Fundamental Questions; Argu- ments for the Existence of God, the Cosmological and Teleologi- cal; The Moral and Ontological Arguments; Transition to the Attributes; Omnipresence, Eternity and Omnipotence of God Omniscience, Holiness and Love of God; Christian Conscious- ness in relation to the Doctrine of the Trinity ; The Historical Revelation of the Trinity ; Its Interpretative Revelation ; The Speculative Construction of the Doctrine of the Trinity. BAcoNs GENEsIs OF GENEsIs.fThis work is designed to explain the processes by which Biblical criticism has discovered different documents in the Pentateuch. The book consists of three parts. Part I is introductory and treats of the principles and methods of the Higher Criticism in general and explains its procedure in the analysis of the Pentateuch in particular. Among the topics which are treated in this part of the volume are the difference between the lower or textual, and the higher, or literary and historical, criticism; illustrations of the success and usefulness of literary criticism as applied to extra-Biblical literature, to the Psalms and to Isaiah; the function of external and of internal evidence, and the application of evi- dence of both kinds to the determination of the sources of the Pentateuch. The author points out very clearly the literary and historical phenomena which have led Old Testament scholars, with great unanimity, to hold to four principal sources of the * The Being of Cod as Unity and Irinity; by P. H. STEENSTRA, D.D., Professor of Old Testament Literature and Exegesis in the Episcopal Theological School, Cambridge, Mass. Boston and New York: Houghton, Muffin and Co. 1891, pp. vi. and 269. ~ The Genesis of Genesis; A Study of the Documentary Sources of the First Book of Moses in accordance with the results of Critical Science, illustrating the presence of Bibles within the Bible. By BENJAMIN WIsNER BACON, with an Introduction by Professor George F. Moore of Andovei Theological Seminary. Hartford: The Student Publishing Co. 1892. Pp. xix. and 352. $2.50.

186 Current Literature. [Feb., CURRENT LITERATURE. THE BEING OF GOD.*~Thi5 volume comprises ten lectures delivered before the Episcopal Theological School in Cambridge, Mass. The Rev. Dr. Gray, Dean of the School and professor of Systematic Theology, had leave of absence for a year in the hope of restoration of his health. These lectures were given as part of the arrangement for temporarily supplying his place. But before the opening of the college year in which these lec- tures were delivered, Dean Gray died. The lectures treat the following topics Preliminary Fundamental Questions; Argu- ments for the Existence of God, the Cosmological and Teleologi- cal; The Moral and Ontological Arguments; Transition to the Attributes; Omnipresence, Eternity and Omnipotence of God Omniscience, Holiness and Love of God; Christian Conscious- ness in relation to the Doctrine of the Trinity ; The Historical Revelation of the Trinity ; Its Interpretative Revelation ; The Speculative Construction of the Doctrine of the Trinity. BAcoNs GENEsIs OF GENEsIs.fThis work is designed to explain the processes by which Biblical criticism has discovered different documents in the Pentateuch. The book consists of three parts. Part I is introductory and treats of the principles and methods of the Higher Criticism in general and explains its procedure in the analysis of the Pentateuch in particular. Among the topics which are treated in this part of the volume are the difference between the lower or textual, and the higher, or literary and historical, criticism; illustrations of the success and usefulness of literary criticism as applied to extra-Biblical literature, to the Psalms and to Isaiah; the function of external and of internal evidence, and the application of evi- dence of both kinds to the determination of the sources of the Pentateuch. The author points out very clearly the literary and historical phenomena which have led Old Testament scholars, with great unanimity, to hold to four principal sources of the * The Being of Cod as Unity and Irinity; by P. H. STEENSTRA, D.D., Professor of Old Testament Literature and Exegesis in the Episcopal Theological School, Cambridge, Mass. Boston and New York: Houghton, Muffin and Co. 1891, pp. vi. and 269. ~ The Genesis of Genesis; A Study of the Documentary Sources of the First Book of Moses in accordance with the results of Critical Science, illustrating the presence of Bibles within the Bible. By BENJAMIN WIsNER BACON, with an Introduction by Professor George F. Moore of Andovei Theological Seminary. Hartford: The Student Publishing Co. 1892. Pp. xix. and 352. $2.50. 1892.] Current Literature. 187 Books of Moses: a Judean prophetic writing (J) dating from about 800 B. C.; an Ephraimite prophetic writing (E), about 750 B. C.; the iDeuteronomic code (D), about 620 B. C.; and the Priest-codex (P) originating about 450 B. C. The literary char- acteristics of each of these documents are also described in this portion of the work. This is the part of Mr. Bacons treatise which non-professional readers will find most interesting and help- ful. We do not know where one could find so compact and clear a statement of the methods and results of the current Penta- teuchal criticism as is furnished in pages 164 of this volume. Part II. is a reprint of the authors articles in IIe1~raica and is a more technical description of the history, processes, and results of modern criticism. In Part III. the author has presented the Revised Version of the text of Genesis printed in different types so as to show at a glance to what document any given portion of the Book is believed to belong. So far as we know, this aid haa never before been afforded the English reader. Jn an Appendix the narrative of the flood (which is regarded as an interpolation into the document J and is referred to about 700 B. C.) is given in connection with a translation of the Assyrian traditions of the flood contained in the cuneiform in- scriptions. A study of the resemblances and differences between the Genesis-narrative and the narratives found on the tablets is thus made easy. Mr. Bacons work is one which displays on every page the industry and learning of the painstaking scholar. He has done the religious public an excellent service in publishing in so attrac- tive and convenient a form a clear presentation of the methods and results of a science which is arousing so much interest and discussion, and whose principles are so little understood. We trust that his book will be widely read. Its candid, judicious spirit commends it to men of all types of opinion as a timely presentation of the claims of criticism. GEORGE B. STEVENS. SERMONS ON FAITH, HOPE, AND LovE.*~.~~~The themes discussed in the volume before us are limited in range and there are only nine sermons in all. But one is impressed at once with the har- mony of tone between the themes and the method of their dis- cussion and with the varieties of method in which they are devel. oped. They are characterized by propriety of sentiment, order- * Sermons upon Faith, Hope and Love, together with Hora3 Homileticce. By JAMEs M. Hovvnr, Professor of the History of Art in Yale University. New York: Dodd, Mead, and Company, Publishers.

1892.] Current Literature. 187 Books of Moses: a Judean prophetic writing (J) dating from about 800 B. C.; an Ephraimite prophetic writing (E), about 750 B. C.; the iDeuteronomic code (D), about 620 B. C.; and the Priest-codex (P) originating about 450 B. C. The literary char- acteristics of each of these documents are also described in this portion of the work. This is the part of Mr. Bacons treatise which non-professional readers will find most interesting and help- ful. We do not know where one could find so compact and clear a statement of the methods and results of the current Penta- teuchal criticism as is furnished in pages 164 of this volume. Part II. is a reprint of the authors articles in IIe1~raica and is a more technical description of the history, processes, and results of modern criticism. In Part III. the author has presented the Revised Version of the text of Genesis printed in different types so as to show at a glance to what document any given portion of the Book is believed to belong. So far as we know, this aid haa never before been afforded the English reader. Jn an Appendix the narrative of the flood (which is regarded as an interpolation into the document J and is referred to about 700 B. C.) is given in connection with a translation of the Assyrian traditions of the flood contained in the cuneiform in- scriptions. A study of the resemblances and differences between the Genesis-narrative and the narratives found on the tablets is thus made easy. Mr. Bacons work is one which displays on every page the industry and learning of the painstaking scholar. He has done the religious public an excellent service in publishing in so attrac- tive and convenient a form a clear presentation of the methods and results of a science which is arousing so much interest and discussion, and whose principles are so little understood. We trust that his book will be widely read. Its candid, judicious spirit commends it to men of all types of opinion as a timely presentation of the claims of criticism. GEORGE B. STEVENS. SERMONS ON FAITH, HOPE, AND LovE.*~.~~~The themes discussed in the volume before us are limited in range and there are only nine sermons in all. But one is impressed at once with the har- mony of tone between the themes and the method of their dis- cussion and with the varieties of method in which they are devel. oped. They are characterized by propriety of sentiment, order- * Sermons upon Faith, Hope and Love, together with Hora3 Homileticce. By JAMEs M. Hovvnr, Professor of the History of Art in Yale University. New York: Dodd, Mead, and Company, Publishers. 188 Current Literature. [Feb. un ess of arrangement, and chasteness of style. They indicate a thoughtful, reflective habit of mind, and they suggest that the author finds himself at home in the realm of spiritual realities. ~Te note here the supremacy of the theology of the feelings, and they are certainly not unworthy products of that influence which the revered and beloved Neander has confessedly had upon the Christian thought and experience of the writer. The Horm llomileticm of the appendix were originally homiletical discussions that appeared in the Hornileticat Review, and deal with interesting and important homiletic questions. The discus- sions are marked by excellent judgment, by thoroughness, and modesty and candor. They bear the mark of familiarity with perplexing homiletic questions, and the author speaks as one who has read extensively, and thought carefully and judiciously and practically upon pastoral problems. The exterior corresponds well with the good taste within. LEwis 0. BRASTOW. THE PREACHER AND HIS MODEL5.*~~iDr. Stalker has chosen an appropriate title for the volume which contains his Yale Lec- tures. It is sufficiently general to cover the whole field discussed and sufficiently specific to suggest the main object of the lectures. The field upon which he has here entered has the merit of being unworked to any considerable extent in Homiletics and is an ex- ceptionally interesting one. To say that the topics disscused have been thoroughly handled would be to say more than the gifted lecturer would claim for them, and more than it would have been possible for him to accomplish within the limits given. This is not to say, however, that they have been superficially discussed, or that the discussion is lacking in distinctive qualities. The subject matter, indeed, is not particularly new, but the method of the discussion is fresh and interesting, and bears all the marks of the authors skill in the suggestive treatment of his themes. The lectures in their present form seem somewhat fuller than in the oral form and no where leave the impression of hasty q preparation which was at times suggested in the course of their delivery. The lectures abound in helpful suggestions, not only to preachers but to intelligent Christians generally. Their tone is elevated and Christian in a marked degree, and they will no doubt be welcomed by a wide circle of readers to whom the beloved author is already well known. LEwIs 0. BRAsTOw. * The Preacher and his Models. The Yale Lectures on Preaching, 1891. By the Rev. JAMEs STALKER, D.D. New York: A. C. Armstrong & Son, 51 E. 10th st., near Broadway. 1891.

188 Current Literature. [Feb. un ess of arrangement, and chasteness of style. They indicate a thoughtful, reflective habit of mind, and they suggest that the author finds himself at home in the realm of spiritual realities. ~Te note here the supremacy of the theology of the feelings, and they are certainly not unworthy products of that influence which the revered and beloved Neander has confessedly had upon the Christian thought and experience of the writer. The Horm llomileticm of the appendix were originally homiletical discussions that appeared in the Hornileticat Review, and deal with interesting and important homiletic questions. The discus- sions are marked by excellent judgment, by thoroughness, and modesty and candor. They bear the mark of familiarity with perplexing homiletic questions, and the author speaks as one who has read extensively, and thought carefully and judiciously and practically upon pastoral problems. The exterior corresponds well with the good taste within. LEwis 0. BRASTOW. THE PREACHER AND HIS MODEL5.*~~iDr. Stalker has chosen an appropriate title for the volume which contains his Yale Lec- tures. It is sufficiently general to cover the whole field discussed and sufficiently specific to suggest the main object of the lectures. The field upon which he has here entered has the merit of being unworked to any considerable extent in Homiletics and is an ex- ceptionally interesting one. To say that the topics disscused have been thoroughly handled would be to say more than the gifted lecturer would claim for them, and more than it would have been possible for him to accomplish within the limits given. This is not to say, however, that they have been superficially discussed, or that the discussion is lacking in distinctive qualities. The subject matter, indeed, is not particularly new, but the method of the discussion is fresh and interesting, and bears all the marks of the authors skill in the suggestive treatment of his themes. The lectures in their present form seem somewhat fuller than in the oral form and no where leave the impression of hasty q preparation which was at times suggested in the course of their delivery. The lectures abound in helpful suggestions, not only to preachers but to intelligent Christians generally. Their tone is elevated and Christian in a marked degree, and they will no doubt be welcomed by a wide circle of readers to whom the beloved author is already well known. LEwIs 0. BRAsTOw. * The Preacher and his Models. The Yale Lectures on Preaching, 1891. By the Rev. JAMEs STALKER, D.D. New York: A. C. Armstrong & Son, 51 E. 10th st., near Broadway. 1891.

NEW ENGLAN ER AND YALE REVIEW. No. CCLXIV. MABCH, 1892. ARTICLE 1.COLLEGE-BRED MEN IN THE BUSINESS WORLD. SEVERAL considerations have in recent years conspired to direct public attention, more than ever before, to the bearing of a liberal education upon business, as distinguished from professional, life. The present generation has witnessed, the world over and nowhere more than in our own country, an ex- traordinary expansion of business activity. Vast enterprises have been undertaken with confidence and accomplished with ease, which, half a century ago, would have appalled the most courageous men of the business world. Ours is pre~minently the age of industrial development, to which, so assertive and energetic is it, all else, it would sometimes appear, has been subordinated. For most men there is a wondrous fascination in this material progress. They come to regard it as the most important part of life, its central and overshadowing feature; and whatever assumes to prepare men for life is naturally sub- jected to a rigid scrutiny, as to its ability to qualify them for VOL. xx. 14 190 College-bred Afen in the Bu8ines8 World. [March, achieving material success. Furthermore, we are fast uearing the poiutperhaps it has already beeu reached, as in Germany at which the professions are beginning to be overcrowded. However it may be iu that country, where university men have almost rio resource but to cuter the civil service or some pro- fession, this fact need occasiou uo immediate anxiety or alarm. Not only is there always room for those who cau forge their way to the top; but the standard of professional education is being gradually raised and is certain to be advanced still further, so that many of those without a preliminary college education or its equivalent, will ultimately find themselves shut out from the professions, thus affording more room for the college grad- nate. On the other hand, a much greater diversity of employ- ments is open before him in this conutry, than in Germany or European countries in general, so that here we have no occa- sion to anticipate a plethora of college educated men. The bearing of a college education upon success in business becomes, then, a very practical question. The problem, however, is very much simplified, when we consider how much the concep- tion of a liberal education has become broadened out. A liberal education is now much more inclusive than it was even thirty years ago. The very general adoption of the elective system has given it srich flexibility and such adaptation to the wants of the individual mind, that, in the process of acquiring it, young men strengthen, rather than diminish, their ability to adapt themselves readily to whatever occupation they may choose for their life work. But the claim is persistently made that, however it may be in other walks of life, in business a college education is dis- tinctly a disqualification. The whole contention for this opin- ion was briefly expressed by Mr. Andrew Carnegie with his accustomed positiveness of assertion, in an article entitled How to Win Fortune, which appeared some time since in the New York Tribune. The total absence of the college graduate in every department of affairs, says Mr. Carnegie, should be deeply weighed. I have inquired and searched everywhere in all quarters, but find scarcely a trace of him. Nor is this surprising. The prize-takers have too many years the start of the graduate; they have entered for the race in- a 1892.1 College-bred IWien in the Bueines8 World. 191 variably in their teensin the most valuable of all the years for learning anythingfrom fourteen to twenty. While the college student has been learning a little about the barbarous and petty squabbles of a far-distant past, or trying to master languages which are dead, such knowledge as seems adapted for life upon another planet than this as far as business affairs are concerned, the future captain of industry is hotly engaged in the school of experience, obtaining the very knowledge re- quired for his future triumphs. I do not speak of the effect of college education upon young men training for the learned professions; but the almost total absence of the graduate from high position in the business world seems to justify the con- clusion that college education as it exists is fatal to success in that domain. The graduate has not the slightest chance, enter- ing at twenty, against the boy who swept the office, or who begins as shipping clerk at fourteen. The facts prove this. If all this be true, it presents a very discouraging outlook for the young man who desires to go into business, but is un- willing to forego a college education. Mr. Carnegies admitted success, capacity, intelligence, and many admirable qualities lend weight to his testimony. But the falsity, as we shall see, of his assumption that college graduates are not to be found in any department of affairs, his reiteration of the time-worn, but mistaken, platitude, that dead languages, and the barbarous and petty squabbles of a far-distant past form the staple sub- jects of the college curriculum, and indeed the general extrav- agance of his statements, at the very outset, largely vitiate his conclusions, whatever value they otherwise might possess. If Mr. C. had had the benefit of the logic of the college curricu- lum, he would have reasoned from a wider induction both here and in his discussion of problems in economics, and not have jumped at such sweeping conclusions, flattering indeed to the conceit of the uneducated, but essentially false and misleading. He assumes to know what the aims, the spirit and the subject matter of a college education are, with which in the very nature of the case he can have only a superficial acquaintance~ The ipee dixit of a business man who has never been through college, however great his general intelligence may be, is hardly to be accepted without question or qualification, when 192 college-bred 3fien in the Buciness World. [March, he comes to pass upon that of which he has no personal experi- ence and which, if we take his own statement, is a world by itself, utterly apart from that in which he himself lives and moves. Similar opinions were expressed in a newspaper interview not long since by the well-known banker, Mr. Henry Clews, of New York. I have given it some thought, he says, and my conclusions are the result of experience. I might say in beginning that I do not employ college men in my banking office. None need apply. I dont want them, for I think they have been spoiled for business life. After spending several of the best years, the years when the mind is most active and most open to impression, in learning a lot of things which are utterly useless for business, they come to the cities to make their way in the world. They are perfectly ignorant of business methods. Their whole education has tended to shut their minds to knowledge of this kind. While they have been at college other men have been in the business offices, have begun at the bottom and have worked up, learning all the details, getting that knowledge which can- not be set down in books. Now, the college graduate is not willing to begin at the bottom. He looks down on the humble place which he is fitted to fill. And, indeed, he looks down on all business as dull and unattractive. He wants a place such as his education and his years seem to command. This place he cannot get, for he has as yet the A, B, Cs of business to acquire. And, even if he does bring himself to accept the place which he must accept if he would have any measure of success, he does not util- ize it in a way to advance him. His thoughts are not with his business, but with his books, literature, philosophy, Latin. Now, no man can approach the exacting business life in this half-hearted way. Business requires the undivided mind. I think that a man has just so many niches in his brain. In each niche so many facts, so many negatives, as it were, fit, and then the niche is full. Now, at college a man is busy filling up his niches, and if he goes through college in the proper way his niches are all full. When he comes to business he has no room for it, or if he has a little room it is such a little and is so crowded that business affairs have very little show. In law, medicine, and that sort of thing, college education is all right. The niches are filled with things that are useful to a profes- sional career. But in business the college education is all wrong, worse than useless. A young man who wants to start out in business wants to get a good elementary education, reading, writing, arithmetic. Then he should stop. No, the college man is not the successful man in 1892.] College-6red il[em in the Business World. 193 money affairs. It is the man who has started in as an office boy and who gets the education of keenness and practical knowledge that comes from early contact with business men. He has his natural sharpness and originality, and the edge of it is not dulled by ideas and theories of life entirely out of harmony with his occupation. These quotations from the opinions of such prominent gen- tlemen as Mr. Carnegie and Mr. Clews fairly summarize the arguments of those who find no place for college-bred men in the business world. They represent the extremists npon the negative side. On the other hand, it is equally absurd to affirm, what no one pretends to claim, that a college education equips a man directly for business. In the very nature of things, it cannot do so; it is not desirable that it should do so. What, then, does it do ~ It for the most part gives him a gen- eral preparation for life in any of its departments, by training his mental powers, by schooling him to think, to concentrate his faculties upon what he is doing, to learn, not in one par- ticular, narrow line, but in various lines, all of which will pour their little rills of power and knowledge into the main channel, along which his energies are bearing him,all of which will contribute to make him in the broadest sense a man of affairs. His study, for example, of political economy and of the principles of trade and finance will n~t give him a mas- tery of the petty details of the management of a bank, or of a store, or a factory, but when he has acquired these by actual experience in a bank, or store, or factory his knowledge of the former will in the end help him to a larger success; he will be likely to make a broader man of business than he who has had no such opportunities; in a word, he will be more of a man of affairs. It does not, therefore, follow that the college-bred business man will necessarily have the advantage in making a great fortune. Neither a mans suc- cess in business, nor his business capacity, is always, or alto- gether, to be measured by the size of the pile~ that he has accumulated. Our contention is simply this. A young man who goes through college and feels drawn to a business career, should not be made to regard himself as barred out from success in such a career by the fact of his college educa- tion. Our contention is, that there is a place, an important 194 College-lred M~n in the Busine88 TTTorld. [March, place, for him in the business world, and further, that if he possesses those personal qualities which ensure success in other fields of labor, he will be successful there, not per- haps in heaping up as monumental a fortune as a few of his contemporaries who went into business at fourteen with only an elementary education, the three iRk, which Mr. Clews pre- scribes, but genuinely successful, for all that. Such claims as these that we are considering, rest largely upon the assumption that money-getting and money-grubbing are the real goals and tests of success, the only objects to strive for, a view which in these days does not need to be empha- sized, but rather should be restrained and corrected. It is not less education, but more and better that is needed in business life, an education that is so all-around, as to give a larger suc- cess than the mere accumulation of a fortune. Hitherto, such have been the unexampled opportunities for fortune-making, always to be found in a new and undeveloped country, that multitudes of men have stumbled into wealth, not because of any special capacity of their own, superior to that of their neighbors, but by some happy accident. The attainment of riches by no means proves that a man possesses superior ability in any large sense of the term. Indeed, it has been well said, that very often the rich man in a community is conspicuously stupid, ignorant and narrow minded outside of his own special ~ sphere. This is the natural result of a life-times money- grubbing when all of a mans thoughts and energies are con- centrated upon the one object of making money for moneys sake. If it be true that comparatively few of the college- educated win a great fortune, it is doubtless due in great measure to the factwhich is much to their creditthat such men have too many and diversified intellectual interests, to be able or willing to turn themselves into mere money-making machines. Thereby the community at large is greatly the gainer, and its common life is preserved from becoming mer- cenary and sordid. Other things being equal, such as native ability and aptitude, health and energy, a broad general educa- tion supplies the surest basis for success in business, as well as in any other specialty. It is generally acknowledged, and experience proves it, that a specialist in science or professional 1892.] College-bred Men in the Businese World. 195 life is as a rule greatly aided to success by having first laid a broad foundation of general discipline and knowledge, such as a college education furnishes. Why should not the same be true in business life? Does it not involve a serious impeach- ment of the standards of business capacity to maintain that a youth of fourteen, who goes at once into a store, his mental powers as yet comparatively undisciplined, and spends the next few years in sweeping it out, running of errands and tying up bundles, is more likely to achieve a pronounced business success, than the college graduate, who meanwhile has been schooling himself to accurate thinking, cultivating his powers of observation and reflection, storing his mind with a wide ran0e of knowledge and bringing it into permanent relation with those things which adorn and dignify our lives and make them really worth the living? The education of the store and the counting room, or the shop, exceedingly valnable in its way, is in the comparison essentially narrow in its scope; and narrow and narrowing, it is going on during the very years, when the question is being determined in the case of most persons, whether their future life is to be of a narrow, or of a broad-guage pattern. The great mass of business men are men of mere routine; they are made such