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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.