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UNBELIEF TRIED BY THE TEST OF SCIENCE I!
\Ve were speaking In the lent chapter
M the consequences of unbelief begin
ping with the publication of the doc
trines of Spencer and Darwin down to
„ear the close of the -nineteenth cen
tury-
T HE art, literature, philosophy, as
well as the social and political
life of the period were permeated
by the Unbelief of the time. George
Eliot’s closing years were spent be
neath clouds back of which she felt no
,an was shining. The spiritual as
pirations of the noblest men. It was
thought, were nothing more than the
ephemeral exhalations sent up from
souls and having no more slgntfi-
ti ,t,te than the vapor rising up from
tlie surface of the river.
Mathew Arnold uses his poetic gen
lus to portray the conditions of sad
ness and loneliness which seemed to
have settled 'down on the heart and
hopes of the world.
The atheistic theory failed because
when assumed to be true It did not
answer to act In the practical life os
though It were true. It failed because
It did not conform to the order of the
universe. It failed because It was not
(. hntlflc. It was not In line with na
ture when properly Interpreted, nor
with the human whole of life. In the
(,teem of those who hastily accepted
It it did seem to be In line with cer
tain abstract logical processes, but the
abstract logical processes with which
It scented to form any alliance were,
unfortunately for the theory, not going
anywhere, while the great and pulsat
ing heart of humanity was traveling
us fast ns the wheels of time could
move. Hence, by the close of the nine
teenth century the almost universal cry
was heard:
A wav, haunt thou not me.
Thou vain philosophy,
kittle hast thou bestead
Save to perplex the hdad
And leave the spirit dead.
Unto thv broken cisterns wherefore go.
While from the secret treaure-depilis
Fed by skyley shower
I
By REV. JAMES W. LEE,
PASTOR TRINITY METHODIST CHURCH
-\nd clouds that sink and rest on hill
tops high.
Wisdom and power
Are welling, bubbling forth, unseen, In
cessantly;
Wh Tf labor at the dull mechanic oar,
When the fresh breeae Is blowing
odd the strong current flowing
Iflght onward to the eternal shore.
Thinkers like Dr. James Martlneau
and Principal John Calrd and Pro-
fessor Thomas Hill Green met the
materialists on the Helds of thought
and defeated them. Quiet students of
nature, such as p. o. Talt, Balfour
Stewart and James Clerk Maxwell,
maintained their faith throughout the
conflict, feeling assured that the doml-
nant unbelief could not endure long
They felt:
"One day they will return In shining
forms.
These fair ambassadors of the Infinite,
And when they come, the rosy fingered
dawn
Will show the nothingness of curllsh
science
Feigning void heavens above a lawless
world.”
The masses of the people never read
bocks devoted to the subject of phi
losophy, but they are Influenced by
them as completely as If they did.
Every period of unbelief has Its philo
sophical basis by the aid of whlch.lt
seeks to justify Itself. Herbert Spdn-
cer was the philosopher who developed,
in his synthetic system, the principles
underlying the materialistic movement
of the last half century. The few who
did read "The Principles of Psycholo
gy," tfltbllshed by Mr. Spencer in 1865,
translated them, through newspapers,
magazines and popular treatises. Into
the vernacular of the people. Just as
the few who read "The Origin of Spe
cies.” and "The Descent of Man,” by
Mr. Darwin, took pains to make all the
people acquainted with them. Even
ministers of the gospel vied with the
periodicals In publishing the new so-
called scientific doctrines to the multfe
tudes. It was not long after the pub
lication of their books before all the
people had heard of Mr. Spencer's un- r
knowable and Mr. Darwin's progenl-1
tor of the human species, called the
ape. But the most Influential factor In
the creation of the period of unbelief
through which we have Just passed
and, happily, are over and done with,
was Herbert Spencer, the philosopher.
Darwin. Tyndall, Huxley, Romanes,
DuBols-Reyrqond, Wundt a.id Vir
chow by their patient Investigations
furnished Mr. Spencer the material for
his vast philosophical structure, th<>
pathetic ruins of which we may now
contemplate.
I.
I-et ys go back to the eighteenth cen.
tury for further data, by which to teat
the practical bearings of unbelief. And
here, too, we find our philosopher un
consciously preparing the way for It,
John Locke was born In 1682 and pub
lished his "Essay Concerning Human
Understanding"' In 1694, sixteen years
before Hume was born and thirty years
before Kant was born.
It Is remarkable that Locke’s phllo
sophlcal Ideas, while In a different
form, were the same as those found
In "The Principles of Psychology" by
Mr. Spencer. All our knowledge, ac
cording to Locke, was flue to Impres
sions made upon the mind by the world
of sense. The mind Itself was like a
piece of blank paper, upon which the
world of color, sound, hardness, etc.,
through eyes and ears and touch man
aged to make Its Impressions. The
aggregate of these separate Impres
sions constituted knowledge. The mind
tyas not a contributor, It was only a
receiver of the knowledge brought Into
It by the outside whole of matter. The
mind was like the camera of a pho
tographer receiving-the Image of the
object before It. It was like a river
which mirrored the trees on Its banks.
This made matter the enure of knowl
edge. This view of the mind made It
Impossible for It to know anything ex
cept the separate Impressions of sen
sation and reflections upon them.
Knowledge was no longer a spiritual
something. It was merely a physical
product. ~ - ■ -
REV. JAME8W. LEE.
be known even If they existed, because
the inlnd being ahut up to sense Im
pressions, could 1 receive no intimation
of their reality. Locke's philosophy
gave to Davkl Hume the princlplce
which he developed In his "Treatise of
Human Nature." He published It In
1739. Just forty-five years after the
publication of Locke's epoch-making
book on the "Human Understanding."
The Treatise of Human Nature" was
but a Scotch version of the remarka-
God nnd soul and cause and ble phlloaophy of Herbert Spencer, put
every universal Idea could not possibly into circulation olghty-one years before
the Englishman was born, and one
hundred and sixteen years before the
publication of “The First Principles of
Psychology.”
Locke's philosophy came to Hume by
way of Bishop Berkeley, who pub
lished his "Treatise Concerning the
Principles of Human Knowledge" In
1710. In order to escape the material
ism of Locke, Berkeley, while accept
tng hta psychology, placed God and
His permanent constitutive action
where Locke had placed matter and Its
primary qualities. To Berkeley there
was no matter; It was all Ideas ami
spirits. They were perceived and had
their bring In being perceived, and they
were perceived by man because of their
permanent existence In God and God'i
permanent action. Inasmuch as BerUe
ley had accepted Locke's psychology,
ho was under tho necessity of substi
tuting God for ihatter In order to re
main spiritual and thelstlc. He said
just as Locke hod that sensation Is the
source of knowledge, but that God was
the cause of It and not matter. Thus,
with Locke’s principles, by which
knowledge was reduced to a imjntnl
form of matter, nnd with Berkeley's,
by which knowledge was reduced to
a subtle form of God, Hume begun his
work. He accepted Locke's psychology
and then dissolved his outer world of
matter Into separate sensations, nnd
then proceeded by the same psycholo
gy to dissolve Berkeley's inner world
of spirit. Locke had said or Implied
that there Is nothing but matter to
gst Ideas from: Berkeley had said there
Is no matter and nothing but God to
get Ideas from. Hume closes the dis
cussion and settles the question In ac
cordance with the psychology accepted
by both Locke and Berkeley, by show
ing that there is neither matter nor
God, but only Impressions In continual
flow and flux. The outer world, said
Hume, la only a fleeting succession of
sensations, and the Inner world of
self and spirit is only another fleeting
succession of sensations.
By the use of psychology, nceepted
by Locke nnd Berkeley, Hunie demol
ished the outer nnd the Inner worlds
of both. He obliterated the universe
and man by grinding them In the mill
was the most complete and brilliant
achievement In the history of modem
philosophy. Hume's philosophy cre
ated as profound un Impression In the
middle of the eighteenth century as
Spencer's did In the middle of the
nineteenth, and It may be added, with
results Just as disastrous. Hume's
Ideas, soon after they were published,
were In the literary, political, social
nnd religious atmosphere of England.
If Hume's Ideas could have been con
fined to the minds of a few philosoph
ical thinkers, skeptical though they
were, we eouid not now test their ef
fects In the practical life. But men
must act aa well n» think, and tho
eighteenth century Is a living, open
book. Into which HumYe Ideas were
translated. We see them In the fic
tion of Fielding and Smollett, so un
clean that It can never be read with
out a sense of amaxement at the moral
conditions which made It possible. Wo
see Hume's Ideas reflected In the
rounded periods of Edward Gibbon, the
skeptical historian of the century: in
Pope's poetry, who converted a shal
low, optimistic deism Into graceful
verse which no one reads any more; In
the lives of Horace Walpole nnd Lord
he subtle, undermining and demor
alising Influence of Hume's skepticism
may be read In the picture given of
,the state of religion In England In the
eighteenth century by Lecky. He says:
"Although a brilliant school of dl-
vlnis maintained the orthodox doc-
trines with extraordinary ability, and
with n fearless confidence that science
were on their
;eptlclsm and a
widespread Indifference might be
everywhere traced among the educated
classes. There was a common opinion
that Christianity was untrue, hut es
sential to society, and that on this
ground It should be retained. • • *
Butler. In his preface to his Analogy,
declared that ‘It had come to be taken
for granted that Christianity Is not so
Is now at length discovered to be i
ttous.' * ♦ * Addison pronounced it
an unquestionable truth that there was
less ‘appearance of religion In England
Ilian in any neighboring state or king
dom.' whether Hr be Protestant or
Catholic; Sir John Bernard complained
that 'It really seems to be the fashion
for a man to declare himself of no re
ligion;' and Montesquieu summed ui>
his observations on English life by de
claring, no doubt with exaggeration,
that there was no religion In Eng
land, that the subject, If mentioned in
society, excited nothing but laughter,
nnd that not more than four or live
members of the house of commons
were regular attendants at church.'
"The utter depravity of human na-'
ture, the lost condition of every man
who Is born into the world, the vicar
ious atonement of Christ, the necessi
ty to salvation of a new birth, of faith,
of the constant and sustaining action
of the Divine Spirit In the believer’s
soul, are doctrines which, In the eyes
af the modern evangelical, constitute
nt once the most vital and the most in
fluential portions of Christianity,- but
thev are doctrines which, during the
greater part of the eighteenth cen
tury, were seldom heard from a Church
of England pulpit." >
it is not at all surprising that there
was total Indifference among the clergy
as to the moral conditions of tha peas
pie. If there Is no God we can know,
am: no law, and no soul In man, why-
should the pleasures of the fox-hunting
preachers not constitute their chief aim
In life?
■ But the Impractical and disastrous
results of Hume's Ideas are not only-
apparent in the England of the eigh
teenth century: they may bo seep at
work In the minds of the revolutionists
In Franco, who made the reign of terror
possible. Voltaire and Rouseau trans
lated them Into the language of the
common people. The Infidelity cher
ished by many of the leading men In
this country during the later half of
the eighteenth century was duo to tho
■atlonal and skeptical philosophy -if
IIMIMMIHtMtMHI
M !{ Y
“IN THE SWEET NOW AND NOW” gsgS*®* I i
By REV. JOHN E. WHITE,
PASTOR SECOND BAPTIST CHURCH
T HIS Is a templing text, rarely does
the reader or the preacher resist
It. We are tempted to take wings
Immediately and fly away, The temp
tation Is urged by the* two pictures It
paints on one canvas—the contrast ol
-Now" and ••Then.” Now we see
through a gloss darkly, but "Then” face
to face: "Now” ‘I know In part, but
“then" shall I know even as also I am
known.'"
U suggest* Raphael's great picture of
"The Transfiguration." Wretchedness
and weakness nnd dismay Is the scene
In the valley, while above is the glor
ious scene of the Transfiguration.
“Now," here, In this life, Paul asserts,
we have dlmn#*fc. Incompleteness,' Im
perfection. But "then" there In that
life to be we will have clearness f
vision, completeness of knowledge nnd
perfection of experience. It was not
•trange that Peter preferred to stay
on the mountain top where he could
ire Moses and Kilns and the glory
his Lord, and It would be strange If
tho reader or the preacher who ap
proaches Paul’s picture In this passage
should nut likewise be tempted to
magnify unci enjoy the heavenly per
fectlons and satisfactions that are as
sured and leave the thought of our
Present limited life with Its mists and
Shadows ns quickly as possible.
But duty for Peter lay In the valley
ind duty for us Ilea In this "now," this
imperfect life, this Incomplete nnd un-
satlsfying world, about us. Ho, my
message will not take us to the moun
tain top todav. We will find our flow,
♦r* In the crushed track In the valley,
but the bruised flower we may find will
be fragrant.
Ths Fact
U is asserted as a fact requiring no
irgument that here in this world we
We limited by knowledge that Is par
tial. transitory and unreliable. Now,
I want to soy that we are not suffering
10 much on account of this fact as we
tre on account of our disposition to
disregard It. It 1* a fact—ft fact unl-
versai, that our human knowledge Is a
most fragmentary, superficial and un-
gpeadabfe thing. We have fnforma
Even of those things with which we
are most familiar, the least complex
things, we know really almost nothing.
What we assert we do know will prob
ably bo set aside day after tomorrow*
"If there be knowledge It shall vanish
away.”
That Is the history of human knowl
edge. What has become of the knowl
edge of the ancients, of the science that
was In the books of the great library of
Alexandria, which was burned? It has
vanished. We dig up from the ruins
of Egypt or Italy some dissertation of
ancient learning—and value It for Its
quulnt error. Its revelation of strange
lore which the world now has no use
for.
*' n and opinions In abundance, but
Itnuine knowledge—the heart of
Jmng*. of man, of God and the real
wet* of life, the fixed and final truth,
*1* not In our possession. What we lo
krow skIn deep. Here is a glass < t
or a drop. What do you know
bbout it ?
Microscope? Animalcules; chemical
analysts Hzo—Two parts hydrogen, one
nxygen? Bah! What are anl-
* u k-* nnd hydrogen and oxygen?
R l**dge skin deep! That Is all.
Men were just as cfbgmatlc two thou
sand years before Paul os they were In
his time. But Paul >vas witness to the
fact that their knowledge was out of
date. Men were as cocksure about
what they thought they knew In Paul's
days as they are now. The gnosticism
or the know-all-ism of the first cen
tury was famously dogmatic. But we
know that It has passed away. Two
thousand years from now a conceited
generation on this very street, per
haps on this very spot, will bo saying
of us: "They thought they knew things
and understood things." The librarian
of one of our universities consulted tho
biology professor about replacing tho
books of his department. He received
these instructions: "Burn up every
book that was published more than ten
years ago."
In the realm of theology also a*
everywhere else, how true it is that we
see through a glass darkly. The qual
ity of some things wo think about Ood
may be genuine, but its extent Is nar
row and Imperfect and Inaccurate. Wc
think of Ood ns a being very' similar
to ourselves; we picture Him as a
kind of Father Time, only grand and
colossal, and if we break away reso
lutely from the anthropomorphls con
ception we are at once lost In a misty
Impossibility of thought.
What little it Is that we know about
death or about the future! Something,
yes; but how dim Is our knowledge
when we dare to try' to set It down!
Do you not see the strength of fact in
Paul's statement, "We know In part
nnd we prophesy In part now’.” We
wish we knew more. It Is not alto
gether or chiefly our fault that we are
so limited. But It is a fact. We ure
environed with Imperfection—an Im
perfect world, imperfect physical bod
ies, Imperfect intellects and Imperfect
moral faculties.
The Ennobling Fset
Why is It necessary to remind any
one of these things? It is necessary
because the man who can realise his
estate of Inperfection becomes at once
a nobler creature, because to realise
It puts him In his right attitude toward
himself, toward others ungifted like
himself, toward God and toward the
future world.
Paul mastered the fact of his own
Imperfection. He had realised, though
a university graduate, that human
knowledge was not the thing on which
an intelligent man could plac'e reliance
and that to boast of learning was no
evidence of real culture. He was
sealous student, loved his books, lived
the Intellectual life and thought impe
rially. But whether In a Roman dun
geon Just before his execution writing
to Timothy to bring hlni his books, or
at Athens engaged so with the philoso
phers that his brain gave nut sparks
to light the feet of Grecian skeptics
to the foot of Christ's cross—not
despising learning or logic or art of
speech, yet always a child of humility.
This Is possible only to him who knows
nnd feels the poverty of his knowledge.
Paul could not count himself to have
attained. In this his Intelectual no
bility 1h manifest.
Now that has been the case with the
greatest minds. Sir Isaac Newton said
he felt that he had picked’up only a
few golden grains on the shore of the
great ocean of knowledge-
Agnssix. the scientist whose, "fore
head high and round" was “aa cairn
which every science helped to build"
realised that he saw r through a glass
darklv and knew* only in part. In the
presence of the unknown—the Immense
unknown—he was as humble as a
mourner at the grave of Death's si
lence nnd mystery. His portrait re
mains In one of the charming poems of
our literature—the picture of a teach
er leading the band of Harvard stu
dents out of a ship to the island which
they are about to explore for knowl
edge. He halts the company nnd ex
plains their expedition; then gathering
them about him he said, "Let us pray."
nnd Mark Twain driven by business
disasters to amazing intellectual cre
ation, of Charles Lamb weighed down
by a mad sister, and Nathaniel Haw-
ihorno by the loss of his position, per
mitted to be the moral Instructors of
mankind. Ho much depends on the
way one looks nt things.
"Two men looked through prison bars,
One saw mud and the other saw
stirrs'."
That happens out of Jail as well as
In It. I have known of men who sur
rendered to depression and beat against
the bars with naked fists. But I have
seen nnd been thrilled by the heroism
of that finer philosophy of life that
accepts Joss and limitation nnd lack
as life's true definition and sings
bravely onward on the track Provi
dence has marked out. Now what Is
truo of individuals Is true of the race.
The Incompleteness of knowledge, the
Imperfection of capacity which are the
common lot of man, are yet the safe
guards of real achievement, the In
lot with every other person In ,fhe. Im
perfection of my knowledge, becatjse
I am exposed myself by the fact that
other people do not know all the truth
In my own ease and are, therefore,
liable to misjudge me, 1 must be very
careful In my own Judgment. By our
common Inability to know each other
really we are bound to have charity
among ourselves. So It Is that out of
our weakness, out of the deplorable
Incompleteness of human Intelligence,
that grand, good thing we call sympa
thy, human sympathy, comes to bower.
O, It Is so necessary In a w'orfd like
ours, and In such An Imperfect life as
we have, that we should not be hard
critics of each other, for we can pene
trate so slightly Into the deep realities
of each other's hearts.
Is It not probable that today there Is
some one whom we dislike very much,
whom we would love If *yo could’get
closer to thorn and know them better,
at least if we knew all the facts would
so harshly' condemn them?
'If all were known all would be for-
REV. JOHN E. WHITE.
"Said the master to the youth.
We have come In search of Truth,
Trying with uncertain key
Door by door of mystery;
We are reaching thro* His laws
To the garment hem of cause,
Him the endless, unbegun,
The unnamable, the One
Light of all our light the source,
Life of life and force of force,
By past efforts unavailing,
Doubt And error, lots and failing
Of our weakness made aware.
On the threshold of our task.
Let us light and guidance ask;
Let us pause In silent prayer.
Then the master In his place
Bowed his head a little space
And the leaves by soft nlrs stirred
Lapse of wave nnd cry of bitd
Left the solemn hush unbroken
Of that wordless prayer unspoken,
While its wish on earth unsaid
Rose to heaven, Interpreted."
“The Length of Our Cable-tow/
There are two ways of realizing the
limitation put upon us by our Imper
fect knowledge. To some It Is, a
source of overpowering discouragement.
I have read of a scientist who commit
ted Htjfclde because of baffling failures
In a chemical Investigation. But tho
other and nobler way Is to be recon
ciled to the limitation and to make
ths best of such powers and such op
portunities as we have within our lim
itations. It turns out. In fact, 'that
our lives need those channels of lim
itation to run In. The engine freo to
go where It pleases Is generally off
the track and helpless to go at nil.
Most mon nepd narrowing down to the
unavoidable and the inevitable lines
of destiny. What they regard ili han
dicap.! are the man making experi
ences of their lives. I think of Ben
Jonson, natural! Indolent, forced by
poverty to write, of Sir Walter Hcott
splrntlnn of truo progress. The vine riven." a very noble woman once wrote.
Grunteil that there la a Juat cenaure,
n deserved Judgment to be rendered
against people, the question la: "Am
1 the one to render It?" Chrlet did
not condone or excure tho aln of the
woman taken In adultery. Ho almply
Indicated that her accuaera were not
the proper people to puna aentence on
her. I will tel! you what t think the
moaneat think—the moet contemptible
thins that »oea on or can happen on
thin earth. It la for a man or woman
to Join In the hnundlali chorua agalnat
some sinner wnen tney nave themaelvea
been guilty of the aame or almltar mls-
deeda. Thnt la an hypoerlay aa rank
aa God hatea nr the devil B|
There la a man In Allan
have eonaldered a great enemy to all
that war good In title community. A
few daya ago that man, knowing my
opinions, and knowing, aa he aald, that
I wan not an unjust man, nought an
Interview with mo to tell me ubout
hlmaelf. Well, I cannot tell you what
he told me about hta life, about hln
orphaned youth, IiIh atruggle aa a boy
agalnat poverty, hla fight agalnat the
wolf at hla mother’s door, hla appllca.
tlon, Induetry, devotednea* to hie fami
ly—the hard conflict up the ladder of
bunlncHH success to wealth, and the
Ideal of hnneety he had tried to love
always and follow, but 1 can eay thla,
that I will hereafter alwaya think of
the man in the llghf of what he told
me. not to excuae him or approve or
ceaae to antagonize him perhaps, but,
knowing more, I have charity at re-
KpectH him pcraonally.
I apent aome while In the Tower loat
week. Oh! that Jail, that pent-up
misery of the poor, tho Ignorant, the
alnful. you cannot Imagine! The friend
who waa with me did not know the
alarm my text here waa making In my
that runa freely without check or hln
drance puna wildly on the ground nnd
la trodden under fool of man; the vine
thnt la barred and baffled and re-
prcHHcd nnd directed by the trellla la
the pride and Joy ot the vineyard and
beurcth fruit.
Lately In si
denta nt Tuakegce, I aought to make
thla truth of value to the negroes of
the Houlh. To accept the llmitntlona of
theIr environment, tholr htatory and
their race and within these Itmlla
tlopH acek for an Alro-Americnn .lea
tiny. I reminded them of the noble
hlatory of Englnnd’a middle Claires.
Not of the nobility, denied privilege
and ahut out from a.trial equality, they
have not eat down to grumble or re
pine.
It la truth for ua nil. We know In
part, but the gate la not barred. We
may forge abend.
Untempered Judgments.
Now aome one may Incline to any
that such views of our Imperfect
knowledge are heroic rather than
practical. I ain not willing te, admit
that, hut there Is something here yet to
be said which will certainly satisfy any
man's demand for tho practical.
Recall what has been said about our
partial knowledge, our real Ignorance
as the apostle asserts the fact, and
then ask this question: "If I see
through a glass darkly and know so
poorly v/hat’s what, how ought that to
affect me?” Surely the answer Is
plain enough. You ought to be slow
to,pass Judgment on your fellow-men,
slow to prltlrise any mnn hnrshly, slow
to condemn where In the very neces
sity of the case you cannot know nil
the facts. Because I hnve a common
heart. "We fee through n glass dark
ly—now I know In part.” What did I
think of It? Well, I wondered wheth
er I had the right to- let myself think
at all. The data ot my knowledge la
ao meager. This one did thla crlmo
and that one did another. Tho law
wae broken, the law must be upheld,
society and great Justice have rights
end they must be reverenced. That
la one thing I thought. But when I
came to the wretched Individuals one
by one I had' no judgment of moral
penalty to hurl at them. I do nnt
know all the facta of their lives, tho
forces that moulded their aoula awry.
One simple-minded nnd simple-hearted
fellow, for I know the mountain typo
to which he belongs very well, ventur
ed In a friendless friendly sort of way
to say: "I wish they woujd let me out
and let me go home up In Hall county;
I’ll quit the business forever.”
"Running a blockade still," he said,
woe hie trouble.
"Own Ut”
"No."
"Soli the whisky?"
"No."
"Did they get the owner?"
"No, Just got me."
I saw the Inside of the facte enough
to make me sure that If all the truth
about that Ignorant mountain bay’s llfo
were competent In determining tho
court's Judgment he would probably
get home Christmas and go rabbit
hunting with the other hoys. So about
us hangs this veil of inlet. We do not
know each other. If wo did I think
we would lovo each more or may bo
less sometimes, Bui since we would
In another’s Ig-
"Judge not that
"Who of us know
The heart-aches of the men we meet
Each day In passing on the busy street.
The woes and cares that press them.
Forebodings that distress them—
Who of ue know?
"Who of us think
Of how hot tears have chased the smil
ing cheek
Of some we meet who would not dare
to apeak
The pangs they feet, the burdens that
they bear.
Each hour that paaeea through tho
solemn year—
Who of us think?
r
"Who of ue care
To try and think and know their pain
and grief,
And help to bring to breaking hearts
relief.
To help to bear the burdens of their
care
By tender word and loving look and
prayer—
Who of ue care?"
KIIMIMHIMMIMMMMI
leeeeMceeeeeeMeeeeeej •hmihii
AT THE END OF THE YEAR
By REV. EVERETT DEAN ELLENWOOD, j
PASTOR UNIVERSAL1ST CHURCH
km
I6M6IMMMIMI
isf MM6 set esse ffaeeeee sees teeefte tee*
>•••••••••••••••••••••••••••
H
much of our conscious thought
wcupled In anticipation! Wo
never fairly oft with the old
if'" »* arc already on with the new.
*1,’Wnd much more time In Investl-
5™* opportunities for Investment
J." ln * careful examination of exls;-
and liabilities. So eager ore
"pen the ledger for next year's
■Jnts that we begrudge the time
g-w* for the drawing of a trial bal-
f, T 'he cloetng year. While still
’'■ho time for the full enjoyment of
J-wrUay's sunset-we ore hustled and
■*■'1 through today to stand and
Impatiently at the casement of
poarrmy.
Ati't this Impulse la after all one of
“damental elements of the sue-
oti life, xo man's case la desper-
long as hope survives and con-
'■> beckon. The only man who
eh- . ' ,y needs our pity la the one
ha * ceased to believe that "the
'a«t turn will be the beat.” Jesus
-M r 1 ,hit "No man, having put hla
h Plough, and looking bock,
K' f"f the kingdom of God.” St.
r. exhorts us to emulate hla exam-
' forgetting the things that are
,' an, l pressing forward to the
..'hat are before.” We rejoice
"** blood-bought spirit of prog-
. "nstantly leads ua on from
.. m-nt unto achievement and
■> unto store, and points ever
toward the fulfilment of that prayer
nnd prophecy which la so frequently
upon our lips and In our hearts, "Thy
kingdom come, thy will be done.”
But the wise and careful husband
man does take a backward glance along
hla plowshare's track with the turning
of his team at every furrow's end In
order that the furrow Just beginning
■hall not blindly copy the Imperfections
of Its most Immediate predecessor. St.
Paul knew well enough that If It were
actually possible for us to entirely for
get the things that are behind wo
should be unable to reach forward with
any assurance of success toward the
things that are before.
We are what we are because or the,
experiences which our lives have
known. Therefore, let us spend no
time In profitless regretting over the
blots and errors In the page we are
about to turn, nor In equally profitless
boasting because of the things worth
while which we may have been per
mitted to write there, nor let us be ho
unwise at to attempt to tort* tbew«>
ord which we are soon to hide from our
V * Rat her let us take the
blocks of yesterday's failure and out *>r
them fashion the splendid proportions
of tomorrow's success.
The dragon fly in the»mm-
mer air upon sun-glorffled wings or
gauze must teach but a sorry lesson vf
gratitude by affecting to loathe and
despise (he unsightly grub from which
she came, nor woald she be less un
grateful did she Insist upon remaining
forever a grub. The memory of her
origin .need not throttle her aspiration,
it should teach her how to use her
wings. We are not less charmed and
cheered by the beauty and fragrance of
the Illy when we are made acquainted
with the Ill-smelling mud w’hlch makes
the illy possible. Yet we are grateful
that the Illy Is not so fond of her mud
as to remain forever hidden by It. 1
Every Invention or discovery
science, art or mechanics which has
blazed the way to new knowledge and
lifted the race farther from savagery
has been the culmination of a weari
some succession of disappointments
and apparent failures, yet had the In
ventor once forgotten his failures, suc-
cesa must have forever eluded hit
grasp.
As the year which we have called
our own quietly draws Its few remain
ing days away from us let us fearless
ly take stock of the experiences * has
brought us in th£ passing of its months
that we may be able to apply their re-
sultan^wlsdom toward the success and
the happiness of the year that will
soon be ours. And first of ail. let us
put a*«y all foolish thoughts of the
possible success cf any attempt at a
change in the records. Let us know written, and this
\
REV. E. D. ELLENWOOD.
beyond (f jnbt tb*t
hat-la written Is
knowledge, loo.
though It bring Its sting, will help us
In the days that are to be.
Ail the tears of all the repentant
liars since the days ot Ananias can
not suffice to wash out the stain of a
single malicious falsehood. Lady Mac
beth's hands must forever he stained
with blood, though with bitter remorse
she strive for their cleansing until the
name of Shakespeare shall fade front
the memory of man. Hut thla la also
certain. The blackness of a lie may
teach the beauty of truth and the domi
nation of falsehood Is ever ready to
give place to the reign of righteous
ness. The torture of a memory of
murder may prepare the way for a
reverence for every - living creature. The
agonizing longing for atonement may
give 'beauty for eshea and the oil of
Joy for mourning."
Though we cannot undo the evil we
have wrought, yet there shall be given
ua another day In which. If we will, we
may overcome evil with good.
The most graceless prodigal la he
who recklessly squanders time, for this
Is the stuff that life la made of. There
fore, If the passing year has brought
to ua a proper sense of the value of our
own and of other people's time the
year has Indeed been rich In bless-
Let ua hope also that we have learn
ed in this time the moral damage of
envy and hatred and lust. If we have
learned, beyond qulatlon, that these
are serpents which cannot he safely
harbored by even the moat disciplined
soul, then the dawning year finds us
equipped for splendid work In soul cul
ture.
If we have been more thoroughly
convinced by tho experiences of the
year that gold won at the coat of char
acter or of health Is but a monument of
folly nnd disgrace, then we have gained
wealth which la beyond estimate ot
value.
If we have learned how to use ad-,
veralty ao that ft shall strengthen In
stead of crash ua; If we have learned
how to take hold of sorrow so that It
shall soften and mold our hearts In
stead of searing and hart)Oping them;
If we have learned the power of pa
tience and the courage of submission:
If we have learned how to forgive even
before forgiveness Is sought, then the
year has been*, the best one we have
ever lived.
And now for the new year. Of
course, we are determined that It shall
be the happiest and the moat success
ful one that we have ever known.
And so. Indeed, It shall be If we shall
will It to be so. Probably we shall
make a number of good resolutions to
help us to carry out our helpful Inten
tions. We shall make a list of new
promises, or perhaps It may be that
«.'• shall merely recover from the dust
of the wayside, where they have fallen,
the promises of the beginning of Inst
year and brush them up for use again.
Now, Instead ot burdening our memo,
ries and our consciences with a per
plexing multiplicity of prohibitions,
suppose we determine that for the next
twelve months we shall endeavor to the
best of oar ability, and with the con
stant help of God, to live natural ami
unselfish lives. Let us utter a splen
did declaration of Independence front
the bondage of artificiality and pre
tense and from the claims of a dis
torted conception of civilization. i.> t
us elect to obey eo for aa wa may dis
cover and Interpret them, the laws of
nature which govern our physical bod
ies and the lawa of the splrttv. il world
which protect and preserve our immor-
Wlth this determination to- bee ,me
really law-abiding cttlxena of the king
dom of God, winch Is here and now,
we shall And it unnecessary to make
any special pledges to hold In Check
the vagrant Impulses of the body and
to curb the wayward tendencies of
the spirit. We shall cease to sin so
grievously against our neighbors and
to our own destruction.
Obligation shall give place to oppor
tunity and duty shall bo changed to
desire. I-et us learn to mean ell of this
when we wish our friends a liuppj New
Year.