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OUTCOME OF AGNOSTICISM
By REV. JAMES W. LEE,i
PASTOR TRINITY METHODIST CHURCH
There I* not tn modern-.((me,.; *
completer illuetration of the outcome or
a wrong philosophic basis their Is fur
nished In the life and writings of Her
bert Spencer.
His system of philosophy Is the most
comprehensive In the English language,
and It Is remarkable that, while It has
been the fashion to laugh at the only
system In modern times that can be
compared with It, that of Hegel, Eng
lish-speaking peoples have swallowed
the doctrines of Spencer, and by them
hare been influenced as by the teach
ings of no other thinker of the past flf.
ty years. Hegel and Spencer are as
unlike as two thinkers ever were. The
foundation of Hegel's system Is know
able mind; the foundation of Spen
cer's Is unknowable force. They both,
however, worked In accordance with
the principle of evolution. Hegel's evo.
lutlon was a logical process, a pure
dialectic movement of thought, from
premise to conclusion. He started with
the thought of the absolute Qod, and
found In nature and history the work
ing out, the gradual externalfiation,
of the mind of Ood.
Spencer's evolution Is a process of
becoming, too, but he starts with ulti
mate, Inscrutable, persistent force, and
sees In all variety of life and mind the
manifestations of this unknowable, per
sistent energy. Hegel begins with a
knowledge of Ood and ends with a
knowable man. and sees In the material
universe the literature of Clod's mind,
which man. made In the Image'of Ood,
has a mind to read and Interpret.
Spencer begins with Inscrutable ener
gy and throws the universe, with life
and mind and religion. Into terms of
matter, motion and force. At the bot
tom of Hegel's universe there Is an
Idea of the Almighty Ood; at the bot
tom of Spencer's there Is the boiling
fire mist of the unknowable. Hegel
insures the mental sanity of man by
showing-him that the world In which
he lives Is guided by a mind he rah un
derstand and adjust himself to.
Spencer opens the way for mental
chaos and confusion by propounding i
doctrine of the %orld. which looks upon
all that Is or that he loves as so much
transformed heat or Inscrutable ener
gy. which. If accepted, would .destroy
all moral distinctions. If all we see Is
so much transformed force or energy
or heat, then there can be no funda
mental difference between right and
wrong. Love In the hearts of men Is
transformed force, but so Is poison In
the farfgs of snakes.
Mr. Spencer's whole system of phil
osophy Is utterly contradictory. His
theory of being Is as transcendental as
Hegel's, while his theory of knowl
edge Is as sensational as John Lock's.
The truth Is, Mr. Spencer’s unknow
able had nearly all the attributes us
ually ascribed to the Ood of the Bible,
except It dltTnot have any sense. It
Is a real, omnipotent, casual, omni
present. unconditioned, persistent. In
scrutable Idiot. With such a being at
the head of the universe, what security
has man beneath or above or beyond
him? The whole material and moral
nnd spiritual order Is left without a re
sponsible head and guide. All things
are reduced to the meaningless level
of Indifference.
On pages 31-38 of "First Principles,"
he says: "Self-existence, therefore,
necessarily means existence without a
beginning; and to form a conception
of self-existence Is to form a con
ception of existence without ‘a begin
ning. Now, by no mental effort can
we do this. To conceive existence
through Infinite past time, Implies the
conception of Infinite past time, which
Is an Impossibility.” Hence, belief Ip
self-existent (lod would seem. In
Mr. Spencer's opinion, to be absurd;
Here Mr. Spencer makes the mistake
of confusing the nature of a thing with
the quantity of a thing. We can not
picture tn our mind all past time, but
we can hold before the mind a mo
ment, an hour or a day of that time..
wen as 11 we couia run dock ini
all past tlmf'and get an Image
But on page. 173 of the second ps
"First Principles” Mr. Spencer t
We thus- get at the natqre of ft, as
well os If ive could run back through
of It,
part of
treats
of the Indestructibility of matter and
says: "The -doctrine. that matter Is
Indestructible has now become'a com
monplace. Matter never either comes
Into existence or ceases to exist. Then
matter has existed throughout, all past
time and will continue to exist,
through all future time. It had no
beginning. It will have no end." But to
think of matter aii thus eternally exist
ent Is, It, not necessarjt to conceive
existence through Infinite past Time,
which Implies the conception of Infinite
past tithe, which Mr. Spencer says Is
an Impossoblllty? To rule out a self-
existent Ood, because belief In'such a
Ood Implies the conception of Infinite
past time, and then make It a mere
commonplace to believe In the Inde
structibility of matter, to do which Im
plies the conception of Infinite past
time. Is contradictory and flbsurd. It Is
just as rational to believe In a self-
existent Ood, and puts the faith faculty
to no greater strain, than to believe In
self-existent matter.
On page 182 of "First Prljlclples" It
Is said: “The very nature of Intelli
gence . negatlvee the supposition that
motion can be conceived (much less
known) either to commence or
cease." If motion Is thought of
never beginning and never ceasing, are
not Infinite past time and Infinite fu
ture both conceived? And If the mind
can believe In motion without begin
ning and without ending, why not In a
Ood without beginning and without
ending? Why rule oflt Ood and keep
In motion If the same 'thought condi
tions are necessary to accept the one
as the other?
On page 19, sixth chapter, of the
second part of "First Principles,” Mr.
Spencer treats of the persistence of
force, and claims that matter and mo
tion are known through force. To be
lieve In the persistence of force It Is
necessary to accept a scientific doc-
REV. JAME8 W. LEE.
trine that Implies the conception of all
future time. This Mr. Spencer claims,
when treating the matter of self-ex
istence or a self-existent Ood, Is an
Impossibility.
Now, the Indestructibility of matter,
the continuity of motion, the persist
ence of force, constitute the fundamen-
>1 elements of Mr. Spencer's philoso
phy. The acceptance of these princi
ples makes the same claims 'upon the
human mind and faith that acceptance
! of the Ood of the Bible and the Ood
of our fathers does. Tet belief In the
one he would claim. to be rational,
while belief In the other Is absurd.
This Is certainly a contradiction.
Now;: tags jfr. Spencer's "Unknow
able." He seeks to show from the athe
istic, pantheistic and thelstlc explana
tion of the universe that the . power
which the universe manlfesta to us is
utterly Inscrutable; that "space and
time are wholly . Incomprehensible,"
that "matter In Its ultimate nature is as
absolutely Incomprehensible as space
and time," that "all efforts to under
stand the easentlal nature of motion do
but bring us to alternative Imposalblll
ties of thought," and so forth. Thus
all things are lauded by him In the
"Unknowable"—matter, motion, force,
time, space, personality and conscious
ness.
A man who could construct the uni
verse out of boundless, boiling, uncon
ditioned, inscrutable energy and out of
tills seething. Illltnttable, persistent
force get life and;mind and art and
Church and state. Is capable of accom-
illshlng other marvelous undertakings,
lellglon, Mr. Spender said, Was a won
derful and stupendous something, and
as he had set about accounting for all
that Is, or ever had been, he felt It to
be proper to show' how religion came
to be. And though In the beginning of
his synthetic system he declared re
ligion to be as normal and as much a
part of man's nature as any other fac
ulty, yet when he came to treat the
subject more fully In his sociology he
showed that It ha
real dreams, brougi
age by eating too much fresh m»at.
The doctrine that we do not know
things In themselves can not stand the
test of the practical life. It never had
a more thorough application to life
thaii was given It by Mr. Spencer. He
became an ascetic through devotion
to It. Old Simon Styletes, on his pil
lar by Antioch, standing for thirty
years through heat and cold, was never
more consecrated lo hla conception of
the godly life than waa Mr. Spencer
given up to hit view of the universe ns
so much Inscrutable force.
But the Spencerian system, when as
sumed to be true does not act In prac
tice as though It were true. Mr. Spen
cer himself lived long enough to see
his philosophy In ruins. He became
a pessimist, for he saw the life of his
time, domestic, political, social. Insti
tutional, taking other forms than such
as he had mapped out, for It. He saw
it vising and taking other directions
than, those Indicated by his philosophy.
The conclusion, therefore, to which he
came, was that as life did not advance
according to the lines of his synthetic
program. It was In a state of decadence.
Thua nothing was left him. as he con
templated the distance between the
shores of his thinking and such as the
current of human Interests was. cut
ting for Itself to flow through, but a
wall. The persistent force Issuing forth
from the dark, unfathomable unknown
had broken over, the boundaries of the
mental dykes Mr. Spencer had built to
aurround It, and regulate It. He was
optimistic enough at the beginning tn
suppose that the universe of life and
mind would move In accordance with
the program he sketched for It. but
they did not, and so nothing was left
him but disappointment an<j despair.
Instead of concluding that he was
wrong, that he hnd failed to aee the
drift of the nature of things—he held
firmly to the view that he was right,
and therefore the nature of things
wrong. As lie left the poor old world,
which he saw refusing to remain in the
synthetic trap, he, with so much pains,
built and set for It. he saw nothing
ahead but collapse and ruin. IVhat a
contrast with the pessimism of Mr.
Spencer as he left the world. Is pre
sented to us in the optimism of St. Paul
as he left It! St. Paul saw things ns
they were—far from what they ought
tn be, but he saw back of them and be-
peath them, not Inscrutable force, but
the Almighty Qod, and he saw them
gradually through the ages coming Into
line with the Increasing and slowly
culminating purpose of God, so he left
the world happy, buoyant, victorious
What a contrast between Herbert
Spencer and Augustlpe! He saw the
Roman empire falling Into ruin around
him, but he saw also' the city of
coming to take Us place, as well
that of all other earthly empires be.
cause back of all things, and nverrul
Ing all things, he saw the Almighty God
working to bring a new heaven and •.
new earth In place of such as were
perishing and passing.
When the universe is reduced to
terms of matter and force It becomes
cheap, hpman life on its surface be.
comes common and Omar Khayyam
voices the sentiment of all who think
when he says, "The end of life i« a
skull and n few fallen rose leaves."
Our highest worldly hopes are but
snow on tbe desert's dusty face. Beauty
Is a robe to be cast off as we pass into
the dark, cold tomb, stilling our senses
with popples. All Intellectual endearin'
Is at last so many molderlng brains
and so many fine-spun theories. t) n
the face of every child one niav see
hope, but In the face of every grown
man he can read despair. •
"We are no other than a moving row
Of magic show-shapes that conn
and go
Round with this sun-lllumiped lantern
held
In midnight by the Master of (he show.
Impotent pieces of the game he plays
Upon this checker board of nights and
days,
Hither and thither moves, and checks
and slaya,
And one by one back In the closet lays.”
And then the true philosophy of lift
Is the old Epicurean conclusion, other
wise expressed:
"Some for the glories of this world,
and some
Sigh for the prophet’s paradise to coin*.
All! take the cash. and> let the credit go,
Nor heed the rumble of a distant drum.”
1 MY OL
irrrvrn A * hin * hMrt riflht a* my hsart is
a) CONrcDtRAIt: s? yhMrtT usissr
!!
1 1
: j
s i
4 | ]
By REV. JOHN E. WHITE,
PASTOR SECOND BAPTIST CHURCH
— - —
... -- )
T HERE Is an old Confederate sol
dier now passing. 70/ with Whom
I have been communing of late
Os one would with a rare visitor from
another world, whose departure was
near at hand. He represents In the
judgment of his old comrades about as
good as there was, and you know what
that means. He differs In two slight
respects from some of them. He didn't
surrender at Appomattox. I once asked
him why. "I didn't feel like It. I ex
pect I felt about like Bill Arp's Oeor
glan. who was slopped on bis return
Southward In '65 and asked ‘where he
was going and what he was going to
do.' He said, 'I am going back tn Ban-
dersvllle, kiss my wife and children,
false a crop and If the Yankees bother
me any " mure IH whip 'em again.'
When things got to a point at Appo
mattox It occurred to me that t hadn't
done anything to surrender for. Be-
aldes, 1 had a wound that nteddd a bet
ter Climate than Fort Delaware, so 1
told Bob. my mess mate. If he would,
lug the saddle I'd carry the blanket and
we'd go home."
My old Confederate brought back
from Virginia Intact what he carried
over there—an honest heart, a high
moral purpose, a clean Bouthern soul,
of which no disasters robbed him. The
war did not sour him. He hasn't been
a failure In life either. Another pecu
liarity of his Is a pet conceit, that
compels assent when he explains him-
aslf, that for ths true Confederate sol
dier who realised the deep things of
that war there Is no such thing and
never was, as "The lost cause." To put
It In his phrase, "The Confederate sol
dier Is the cosmopolitan of the moral
universe, alike a comrade of all the
world's poor and all Ole world's rich."
If there are any poor he can say to
them, "I am your equal, for I have
lived deeolale amidst a great desola
tion.” If there are any rich and
proud he can say. "I, too, am your
equal, for I have a heritage of valor
and human glory purchased with more
than millions."
I never knew him to lower his flag of
aversion to (he phrase, 'The lost cause"
but once. I saw him throw down a
newspaper not long ago In a biasing
.wrath. He waa greatly stirred up. My
Inquiry calmed hint Immediately. "Oh.
well,” he said, "ths Boulh did not have
a "lost cause" In 1865, but If some of
these politicians nnd newspapers keep
on the way they are going we will have
one yet, nnd there won't he a place In
the moral regard of mankind big
enough for the Bouthern people to put
one foot on." I didn't ask him what
he meant.
I can not begin ta tell you how this
g rand old men has Interested me and
elped ms. But, frankly, I stand In
awe of him when I realise what he
actually‘signifies. Sometimes when 1
have come from my books of history, on
the war between the states I have to
rub my eyes .to appreciate that he Is
what I have been reading about.
We young men do not grasp the his
torical, dramatic fact of the Confeder
ate soldier. We are letting our South
ern herology slip through our fingers.
Why, over In Europe you can see at
any time great companies of people
who have made pilgrimages from all
over the world just to look at the spot
where Some old knight of'Insignificant
wars stood or Is burled. Do yeu realize
when you are In the presence of an old
Confederate soldier that you are there
In eye reach and hand touch of a real
flesh a'nd blood of man who not only
lived In the moat terrific hours and
minutes the American republic ever
hnd or ever will have, but who was nt
the hissing center of the vortex of it
all, an actual actor .In scenes of su
preme tragedy, that commanded the
bretiThtes* atidlencc of all Christendom?
ThOtTganiron pass on .the street with
out a second look Is the Incarnate sur
vivor of am experience that almost
broke the nineteenth cpntury fnJwaln.
My old Confederate Is uncomiclous
of the Impression he makes on me. He
has wounds he can not hide, but he
never wears them for ornament. He
tks of M|>0assq» and Gettysburg In
calmest sort of way. There Is one
Impression, however, the chance to
make he never allows to go by. He
loves the Southland. Old Mortality In
Waller Hrott's book went about chip
ping names off the tombstones. I
think my old Confederate would like to
go about cutting his faith and creed
of the South on the heart of every
youngster he coaid find.
One day since our riot In Atlanta 1
called on him very much In earneit
about seeing him. I wanted him. If he
could, to give me out of hla chaatened
life nnd hla mtmpry of the South's
troubles some word that might be
light, something that might guide us all
who did not live then, but who do live
now ond have a man’s part to bear
In the South.
I found him at his book case. That
Is In Itself a quaint affair. It Is filled
with hooks mnny of which we younger
men do not know very well. They are
olumes which relnte to the period
rhen the South was the senlth star of
all the constellations, when the South
ern states were the largest moral and
political nsaeta humanity had on the
world's map, the hundred years of
Washington, Hancock, Jefferson, Mar
shall, Lee. Monroe, Madison, Henry,
Macon, Crawford, Preston and Mc-
Duffle, when the Southerners were a
people regarding Democracy and lib
erty whnt the Palestinians had been
regarding religion and the Athenians
had been regarding art and culture.
When I Interrupted him he swept his
hand along their serried titles with a
senatorial dignity he has.
"Here are some springs, my son," he
said, "that your cotton lint and coal
smoke ought never to choke. I am
thinking," he added facetiously, of let
ting them go to found a Southern clr- * 1 * * * * * * *
minting library to save your tribe from*
some of your flimsy foundations. But
come, you have something. What Is
It?"
When we were seated I said:
"Captain, I want to talk to you about
myself."
"Ah, a very grand subject, you
think!"
“No, I don't mean that. 1 want seri
ously to ask you some things that do
concern me personally and a great
many others like me. I have the Idea
that I suppose we all have that A
Southern man If In some sense differ
ent from others, that to be born In the
South le a distinction of character, a
peculiar pre-eminence. And I want to
know what It Is and If It In any way
exempts me from the standards by
which men ore generally justly to be
judged ?"
His pause Indicated that he was en
couraging me to get entirely through
my speech.
"I want to know that, and what I
mean la 1 really want to know what Is
a true Southerner?"
"I was about to be amused at you,”
he bfgnn. ''You appeared to be a bit
over conscious. But I appreciate that
you have some good reasons for per
plexity. I do not care to discuss these
recent and local events that I take are
at the back of your trouble, except to
say this, that the men who are In posi
tions of leadership now nnd the people
who think ninong ns, ought to read very
carefully the history of the South'd
council fires from 1840 to I860. I was
here. I know the conflict of tempera
and types. The same tempers and types,
.only tfss naturally conservative and
more Irresponsible In the mass, than
then, are here now.
"But you have come to a real point
with your question. The Southerner
Is different. His ancestry, history and
environment have made him so. Still
you are very wrong In your suggestion
that he Is not subject to the same judg
ments to which othsr men and other
people are finally submitted. There la
hut one Ob<1 and therefore but one
Right. There Is but one Supreme
Coda and therefore but one Justice.
There Is neither geography, ethnology
caste nor color In moral*.'
(Veil, then," I put In’eagerly, "what
am I bound to that ta peculiar to
Southerners? What Ideala, or obliga
tions are my criterion? The point with
me to know If I can just how. I may be
the truest, most loyal Southerner and
man I can."
His speech had been with such gravl-
REV. JOHN E. WHITE.
ty and slowness that I was watching
narrowly everything he did ns well as
listening keenly. It Is curious how
much little things Impress us some
times. He unconsciously had laid his
hand with the mangling wound on the
book he had taken do,wn as I came In.
That wound was symbolic—the link
between the past and the present.
Wheif he began again his emphasis
was sobering.
“The truest, most loyal Southerner,
you want to be? Then I will tell you
what I know and It 'will be very simple.
There is no hard and fast type, but
there are certain Ideals of Southern
character of an Intrinsic quality to
which every, true Southerner will own
allegiance. I speak of that ndklch Is
fundamental.
The historical Ideal of Southernera
the love of fair'play. At tb« bottom
that Is Justice. This Is the romantic
basis of our civilisation,-the philosophy
of much that characterises our life. It
explains the' strong leaning tn the
Democratic party—‘Equal privilege and
no special favor.’ A Republican presi
dent wins the South to hls champion
ship of 'a square deal.’ The' old antl-
roynllst spirit Is the later anti-monopo
ly spirit In a new dress. Our over-
exercised sensitiveness Is. I think, i
survival In the South of an ancient re
sentment against Injustice. It was our
people, you know, who made the ear
liest and most vehement protests
against the mother country’s unfair
ness to the colonies. At Mecklenberg
and Philadelphia It waa our cry to the
world against Imposition and In behalf
of simple Justice. We are the fathers
of that passion on this continent*. To
be a true Southerner Is to stand on that
rock always. He must follow that prin
clplo wherever It leads him. He must
be first of all, Just. He will not Impose
upon the weak or allow others to. Re
member this when Southern people see
a human being wronged and do not
champion bis cause or when they can
be misled Into any course of Injustice
and wrong against u human being, In
short, when we fall In fair play we de
part from what Is Intrinsic and true In
Southern character. This Is the basis
of Southern knighthood. When that
goes the bottom falls out of our dis
tinctive civilisation.
"Now," he said, as he stood up for a
moment, ‘‘that Is one Southern Ideal,
but there Is another that we have even
more consistently cherished.
"The son of the South has an un
common Inattnct of the claim his home
has on him and this Ideal has extended
Itself to cover his home-land. Tills Is,
of course, no monopoly In the South,
but It does mark us more definitely
than other sections and peopls. I have
Just been reading one of our critics,
who says: ‘Provincialism Is the vice
of the Southern character.' My son,
we have to abide that soft Impeach
ment. If it Is a vice it Is one of those
vices that Is an exaggeration of a great
virtue. We are Americans, Indeed the
most typical Americans homogeneous
ly on this continent, but our Ameri
canism will never be of the kind that
can say, without a reservation, 'No
Ncfrth, no South, no Eaat, no West.'
There Is for us a South. God created
It. History has cibnflrmed It. Expe
rience has sanctified It. It Is bound on
the north by a broad river, on the east
by a great ocean, on the south by a
gulf and on the west by the two great
est continental streams. About this
South the lines of on Irrevocable decree
which Is written Into our heart and Im
agination nre drawn. It has entered
Into our blood. It will remain—the
South. As Scotland Is dearer to the
Scotchman and Ireland to the Irlshnmn
and Wales to the Welchman, these
Southern states are a grand division
of this earth's surface that will always
be dearer to the Southerner than any
other section on. the globe. It Is our
home, our heritage. You must never
get away from that If you want to be a
true Southerner.”
My old Confederate paused and
seemed to be recalling something that
was not quite clear.
"I recall a picture,” he at once went
on, "an old painting I used to see when
a boy. It Is the picture of one of our
earliest Southern settlements. The for
est In front of the smalt clearing in
the woods Is lined with savage Indians.
The settler Is standing In the door of
his cabin with a smoking rifle In his
hand and a dauntless death-defying
light Is In his face. His right hand Is
extended backward In a gesture of
protection to his wife and children, who
are trembling In fright In the room
behind him. I suppose," he smiled,
"this Southern home love began back
there. We have In the course of our
torrowt simply enlarged the borders of
our passion."
He paused again reflectively. “I am
recalling an experience of mine and
trying 'to separate It distinctly from
later thoughts. Ono night In Virginia,
after 8tonewalt Jackson was killed at
Chancellorsvllle, I was making on In
spection of our picket lines, and some
distance from our camp sat down. It
was a beautiful night and the depres
sion general at that time of loss came
over me strongly. I began to analyse
my seal as a Confederate soldier,
said to myself. 'Are you lighting to de
fend the Institution of slavery?' My
heart yielded an Instant honest answer,
'No, God knows there Is no satisfaction
In that Idea to me. If the slave proper
ty was worth as many billions ns It Is
millions and that wns all I would not
move my little finger to go to war for
Then the Idea of secession a» a
constitutional right occurred to ms.
It waa a right conserved by the consti
tution in the understanding of those
who formed It, a right more boisterous
ly threatened and more agitated by
Joslah Quincy, nt Massachusetts, nnd
the Eastern statesmen, including the
whole party of New England Federal
ists, than by any one else In 1845.'
But It was. a right never Intended to
be exercised. It was a provision such
as should be put Into any contract, for
the statesmanlike purpose of guaran
teeing the balance of mutual Inter
state respect and not for the purpose
of contemplated disunion. I recalled
the message Alexander Hamilton sent
from hit death bed, 'Tell the people nt
Boston that I say for God's sake to
quit trying to disrupt the Union. If
they break this Union they will break
m>‘ heart.* That was as far back as
1804. and I remembered that my father
used to quote It to me In Ills own love
for this republic. Secession was a-right,
a guaranteed privilege under the con
stitution. But I knew that this was not
the Inspiration of my soldiering In Vir
ginia.
"At that moment of my introspection
1 happened to aft my syes up to ths
stars and unconsciously glanced down
the array of clustering constellations
which fell away and away down the
heavenly concave to the South, nnd
my eyes rested there. Then my heart
gave a leap; I stood on my feet. I hnd
found the spring of my. Joy, In the bat
tle. ‘My bnck Is to my home,* l said.
•The enemy Is here on the border. I
am In defense of Dixie land.'
"My boy," he said, "I have told you
the secret of every wound I bear. It Is
the secret of niy comrades, who went
with Lee. It nut our white chieftain's
secret, too. So I tell you that the true
Southerner will love his homeland and
suffer for her good nnd for her glory
If need be, no matter In what form the
danger comes. With us It was our own
American brothers who mime.-.against
us. And though' you do not haye"—
"But,” I cried trembling, with my
heart shaken to. Its depths and not
comprehending the Import of Ills last
words, "I do.love my bom*,- I was
born here. My fathers and my people
are burled about me. I have scarcely
been elsewhere. I know no other love
like this land. What Is there .for me
and for us? We can not nqw bear
arms for the South. There Is no foe
at our borders, no threat, no peril from
without!”
"But there arc perils from within,”
he gently said. "The shock and dire
strait are for you ns they were for us.
Our South's sorrows are too great for
one generation only. Your fathers at*
sour grapes, your teeth are on edge. I
will not be here to see the great moral
struggle of Southern civilisation to tri
umph over temptation and besetment.
But get you ready for It. It Is at hand.
You will have to find your own way.”
He saw my depression, for Ills own
mnnner and speech were gloomy. Com
ing nenrer, he spoke a bit more cheeri
ly; "One thing more I can say to you.
When I nm gone and you. come to
what I foresee, a ttme of doubt and
confusion and low human counsels sro
at the front and false voices are clam
oring, I bid you week the sheltering
manhood of a man who will never die
In this land. In other days Ills presenre
made us all better from- the heart out.
I sometimes think he may yet mean
more to the South than ever. Seek the
counsel of his spirit, the sweet per
suasion of his voice. He was copied
after Jesus Christ the Son of God ond
he was ft Southerner, tried and true,
the bent shape of mortal hero-man any
people ever had to mark by. Follow
him and you will not go wrong."
My old Confederate had grown quite
calm and there was worship In hi*
voice. He had spoken no name. My
own heart waa stilled. It was the calm
ness of a great Presence he had sum
moned to stand beside me—the great
white soul of the Houth—Robert E. Lee.
>••••••••••••••••••••••«
"KEEP SMILING”
hmmhimhmhhiimmmmi
IHMM4MI4MIHMIMHHI
By REV. EVERETT DEAN ELLENWOOD, j
PASTOR UNIVERSAL1ST CHURCH
G UT at Piedmont park this week.
In the exhibition hall of the
• (Carriage Builders' National
Association, were to be seen hundreds
of persons wearing as badges or as
hatbands small slips of cardboard
bearing two very suggestive and sig
nificant words, "Keep Smiling." i It was
noticeable, too, that In nearly every In
stance the wearers of these. badges
were faithfully obeying the Injunction
which they so prominently displayed.
• The wealth of beautiful and powerful
philosophy contained In this abbrevi
ated sentence must appeal at once to
any one who studies life from men
more than from bpoks* A very Im
portant feature of this national gath
ering of enrriage builders Is the display
of the products of the different mem
bers for commercial purposes. It Is
axiomatic In the business world that
the smiling face and the cheerful man
ner are absolutely essential to success.
The. salesman most valuable to his
employer ts the one who always seems
to have an Inexhaustible supply of good
humor and optimism, the one who be
lieves in the tsuccess of his own right
eous efforts, which manifests Itself,
constantly, in his countenance. The
world loves cheerfulness. The busi
ness world demands 1t. The man with
the perpetual “grouch" Is hopelessly
handicapped. If you wish to succeed
you must "keep smiling."
What a pity It Is that we should oc
casionally forget that this law ts oper
ative In all of life and In all of Its
relations. Too many people, cultivate
a habit of cheerfulness “for business
purposes only." and while apparently
optimism Itself In the shop or store or
factory, seem either unable or Indis
posed to carry that cheerfulness be
yond the threshold of their own homes.
And yet they sometimes wonder why
their society is not eagerly sought by
normal men.
i.’heerfulness does not depend upon
circumstances. It Is a condition of
mind possible of development any
where and under all clrcumstnnces.
Optimism Is nothing more or less than
a habit of thought. Born of humility
and strong faith In God, and constant
ly fed.by unselfishness. It grows rap
idly Into a power strong enough to
make a happy and successful life In
any environment.
T^c morose ond unhappy disposition
nearly always Indicates the self-cen
tered life. Some people are predis
posed to be disappointed.
Here Is a homely little story which
Illustrates the splendid possibilities of
the cheerful habit of thought:
A solitary horseman, traveling an
unfrequented country road, and desir
ing to learn the direction and distance
to the town of his destination, reigned
In his horse beside a field In which a
half-grown hoy waged sturdy war with
| a vigorous growth of weeds which con-
tested the right of existence with a
| sickly. Indifferent looking crop of corn,
j In response to the traveler's, call the
| boy pushed back from his face the
I Happing rim of an immense straw hat,
i and, wiping the sweat from his fore-
' head with the sleeve of his shirt, he
i came toward the fence with rapid,
j awkward strides.
The traveler was a lover of men. and
[ wns, withal, somewhat of a philoso
pher. Also, It was not so long since
he had himself been a boy. Therefore.
It was not at all surprising that.hav
ing secured satisfactory answers to hts
practical questions, and desiring to
know something of the hoy’s custom
ary habit of thought, his method was
that which would have made most suc
cessful appeal to his own heart In boy-
I hood's days. It was a typical midsum
mer day. The same late afternoon sun
which was the Joy of him who rode
through alternate stretches of sunlit
meadow and cool and shaded wood
beat down relentlessly upon the back
which was bent in unromatlc toll.
From the trees along the creek which
bordered the field on its farther side
there came the clear, strident challenge
of -the cat bird, strangely mingled with
the low, soothing love notes of the
turtle dove. The branches of the trees
beckoned their welcome to their cool
retreats. The Jtttle stream murmur
ing at the stones w‘h!ch lay In Its bed
whispered of shining trout waiting the;
angler's craft. And the man. who, not
REV. E. D. ELLENWOOD.
long since had been a boy, knew full
well tbe fierce tumult that raged 'neath
that sweat-streaked "hickory" shfrt.
He? too, felt strongly the.wild yearning
which possessed the boy to fling that
hoe, the symbol of his serfdom, Into
the fence corner, and forthwith Join hls
companions of the wood and the
stream, the wild free things which
recked not of code or convention. In
an outpouring of the heart In adoration
to Him who "glveth us richly all things
to enjoy."
With retrospective glance he swept
field and wood and sky and then
turned to the boy who still stood won
dertngly In the Held below him. “This
would be a mighty fine day to go Ash
ing, now wouldn’t It?" he asked, tenta
tively. The boy gave a quick indrawn
breath and-fifs glance which had In
stinctively sought the direction of the
creek swept back across the field, rest
ing for a moment upon the weeds hls
hoe had uprooted, dying quickly In the
sun’s Insistent heat. "Yes,” he said.
"It sure would, but It’s a mighty good
day to hoe corn, too." With wondering
udmtratlon ine stranger changed his
point of attack to that of this new Item
of Interest. 'The cut-worms seem to
have taken a good deal of your corn?"
he remarked. ’ Yes," said the hoy,
"so they have, but what there Is left
will have more room and will make all
the better crop because of It."
Thoroughly Interested and amused,
the man replied: “But all of your corn
Is looking pretty yellow'. It seems to
me." "Sure,” said the boy, "It Is bound
to: we planted the yaller kind." "Well,"
said the stranger, laughingly. ’It does
not look as though you would get more
than half a crop from this field.’’ "We
never eal’lated to get any more than
that, stranger," cheerfully rejoined the
boy, "’cause, you see, dad’s a-farmln'
this here land on shares."
The man shook hands with the boy,
offering silent tribute of admiration
and gratitude for hls abundance of that
faith which Is powerful enough to re
move mountains, and as he continued
his trip he thus reflected In hls. mind:
“Here Indeed Is a wonderful thing. I
stopped by the way for a few moments,
to have sport with an ignorant farm
er’s lad, and lo! I have held helpful
converse with a philosopher." And
the boy. with one more lingering, long
ing glance In the direction of the en
ticing trout brook, settled flrmlv upon
hls head once more hls Immense hat
of straw', and, merrily whistling an an
swer to the cat-bird’s call, broke ofT
from a near-by stump a* splinter of
wood with which he began to clean his
hoe for n fresh onslaught upon that
kingdom which, for the time, was hls
alone to conquer.
And the man was right. Not always
Is It true that the men nnd women
whom the world with remarkable In
discrimination declares to be sages and
philosophers, are the ones who have
patiently sifted the chaff and wheat I
of life s emotions and experiences, nnd
have unerringly arrived At the "con
clusion of the whole matter." The
prophets of hope and cheer are not nl-
w-ays those whose snowy locks would
Indicate the possibility of the complete
Justification of their faith by their
wealth of experience.
The smiling goddess of cheerfulness
knows no .distinctions of rank or “ta-
tlon among those who worship eagerly
at her shrine. Nor does she show the
slightest partiality In the distribution
of her favors to the happy-hearted.
The Individual who, through natural
choice and not from politic necessity,
Is able to “keep smiling,” Is always
sure of a hearty welcome among hi*
fellows, regardless of the cut of hi*
clothes nnd the extent of his acquaint
ance with the schools.
Bul let it be remembered that op
timism and buffoonery are b> no
means synonymous terms. Many *
man who prides himself upon hH
cheerfulness and hls optimism I'* ' n
reality only a fool. The rattle of an
empty wagon Is not nearly so pleasing
to the normal ear as the subdued hum
ming of the honey-laden pirate of tn*
meadow' and the hedgerow. The man
who laughs the loudest at hls neigh
bor’s coarse Joke Is not usually the one
to be depended upon when some gre.it
moral crisis threaten/* the bulwarks ’j
civilization. The. woman whose silly
cackle responds most readily to tne
pitiful Inanities of so-called “polite
Continued on Opposite Pas 9 *