not for ourselves, but for God and the race; where not only is orthodoxy scorned, but where "liberal" ideas both moral and religious prevail, where God himself and belief in the soul's existence have no place, and where, furthermore, the ethical significance of life has no strong foothold, where virtue and vice are with Taine-regarded as predetermined products like sugar and vitriol, where purity is a fanatical struggle against legitimate impulses, where charity itself is useless sentimentality, life a delusion, temporary pleasure the only good, death a sad end to a meaningless existence. Or perhaps irreligion may take the "devil-may-care" form. Men of this creed are no sombre pessimists. "Life is sweet," you hear them say; the end is certain; the hereafter is improbable; let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die." If these are not literally and universally true pictures, they have at least many individual examples and are tendencies we may well fear. For release from this despondency and moral impotency or this optimistic indifference I look to but one source, and that the pure, vitalizing impulse of a real belief in Jesus Christ as he is revealed to us in the Gospels."

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As to the content of the teaching to be expected of our reformed radical, a similar reticence must be observed. All we shall venture, is to generalize a bit. In the first place, it should obviously be catholic, that is to say, just as inclusive and tolerant as one can be and avoid inconsistency, and this means toleration for old views as well as for new ones. Secondly, it must be outspokenly Christian. We shall not make a sharp definition of what this means, but shall venture to mention a few things it obviously does not mean. It hardly seems to be enough to be an honest seeker after truth: Nietzsche's philosophy and Zola's views on marriage are not generally thought to be Christian, though Nietzsche and Zola

may have been sincere men. Nor is mere virtue all of the Christian religion. John Stuart Mill and John Morley may be noble types of manhood, and more acceptable to God than many a "believer," but I hardly think we should dare refer their teachings to Jesus or to Paul as samples of the religion that the founders of Christianity thought the world needed. Furthermore I cannot see how any one whose belief ends with God can think that he is teaching the full spiritual content of our religion. Lastly, even Dr. Harnack maintains, if one may rely on a newspaper report, that "any judgment confusing Christ with the other masters must be rejected"; and with this backing I should like to enter a demurrer against the "Confucius-Buddha-Jesus-Goethe" brand of Christianity.

The common liberal tendency to pat the ethnic religions on the back is just a bit exaggerated. It is well for us, no doubt, that we have begun to recognize the divine hand in all religions; but it is time that some New-school theologians reached and preached definite convictions on certain points about which Christianity and other religions differ as day from night: whether, for instance, we are to believe in the vague and doubtful God of Buddha, the tyrant God of Mahomet, or the personal, loving God of Christ; whether we shall look forward to absorption into the infinite, to an eternity of lust, or to a Christian heaven. Perhaps, too, your boasted spiritual consciousness will not settle these questions. It may be better for us if we are thrown back on the derided principle of authority-not of church, nor even of book, but of the Son of God; possibly even the twentieth century is not too intellectual to learn of him. Argue as we may, there are generic differences between Christianity and most heathen religions, and if we have any beliefs at all we must have a rational basis for our choice of them. The writer of this discussion

has frankly and emphatically taken his stand for a supernatural religion that finds its center in a supernatural person and part of its evidence in supernatural events. He has done so because he can put no other interpretation on the words of those who knew what Christianity was in the beginning, if any one ever knew; because he believes such a view to be philosophically admissible; and, more than that, because he feels that this sort of religion is rationally demanded by a world like ours. But some think otherwise. They consider Christ the world's Redeemer, and its Guide in things spiritual and moral, without our belief in the so-called supernatural. Let us have no quarrel with them. Let us all only preach Christ. I cannot comprehend the logic of such people, and it must be admitted that I am hedging a little in thus compromising with them; but I am glad of their conclusions, meager though they seem to be. Far be it from me to impose my conception of Christianity upon them. All I say is: "Friends, speak out your message; preach God, life everlasting, Christ, duty, destiny, hope, to an ignorant and sinful world; but have a little toleration, too, for your brother whose old-fashioned views you may not admire, for he is a soldier in the same army with you."

Finally, there are two cogent reasons why a New-school attack would lead to victory over the irreligious forces of our day. 1. Conservative apologists are regarded with no little suspicion of bias, whether because they really are not openminded, or because their opponents-Christian or non-Christian-have forced this reputation upon them by continuous insinuation-whether, I say, it be from one cause or the other, or from both, Old-school apologists for Christianity are not generally thought to be as free from prejudice as are the radicals; and so, persuasive and defensive statements of religion

made by the latter class would appeal with double force to the doubting. 2. A great deal of our present-day doubt is obviously emotional rather than intellectual, it is a feeling of hesitation rather than a conviction of erroneous conclusionsdue, I suppose, to the absurdly extreme and even false conclusions it was fashionable not a great while ago to draw from recent discoveries in science and in criticism. Now, I say, that it would be a downright surprise to many people, if certain scholars and preachers whose negative work we have described, should consistently and enthusiastically, from now on, lay emphasis on the positive side of their belief. Quite aside from any specific arguments these men could urge-and I doubt not that their way of looking at things would persuade some never reached along older lines of thought,—their very presence among the outspoken champions of a real, virile Christianity would have against emotional doubt a counteracting influence whose power I should not care to limit.

The strategic moment to strike has come. What looked like defeat proves to be only retiring to more tenable ground. This retreat has drawn on the enemy, discouraged our soldiers, and turned neutrals against us; but it can be used as a feint; a firm stand, a defiant display of colors, and a swift return to the charge would have a tremendous moral and practical effect. A crying need has been pointed out. Does any one doubt its existence? Various remedies have been broadly outlined and the call to arms is sounding. Will the New School heed the appeal? Who will take the lead?

ARTICLE VIII.

THE MALADY OF SAUL, KING OF ISRAEL.

BY EDWARD M. MERRINS, M.D.

"YE daughters of Israel, weep over Saul. . . . . How are the mighty fallen!" This text has furnished the theme for many noble and eloquent sermons; and not great preachers only, but great artists, poets, and musicians have also felt the singular fascination of the tragic career of the first king of Israel," the half-shrouded figure that stands erect and stately, but touched with such unutterable sadness, at the very threshold of Jewish kingly history; that still attracts, and touches, and interests, and still appeals across the ages to human sympathy, in spite of crime, and error, and madness, and defeat." In the crucible of modern historical criticism, however, the facts of Saul's life seem to be melting away into myths and unwarranted redactions, and it is a very shrouded, ghostly creature that is now left to us. We are told that neither the outer nor the inner life of the heroic king is intelligible. It is hinted that his malady may have been nothing more serious than "that heightening of the physical powers under the influence of rage against Yahweh's enemies, which characterized the successful great warriors and athletes." But as such wild moods are found in substantial creatures of flesh and blood, there is a series of questions which dissipate the malady entirely. "Was it a melancholy produced by a wild longing for battle? Was it but the morbid reflex of the prophetic inspiration of Saul's heroic period? Does the story of the witch