proper names, at least two magnificent canvases, and the highseriousness of a lofty spirit.

To sum up: the mediæval charm, the fertility of fancy, the happy phrase, and the atmosphere of devoutness with which Fletcher has enveloped his poem are almost on a par with the corresponding qualities where they appear in "Paradise Regained." But what makes the beauty of one is not the distinguishing characteristic of the other. Fletcher's poem is an allegory. It is a series of pictures, not a unified whole. It sees with the outward eye, and sees vividly, but its creatures are of the mediæval stamp. Its cadences are sweet, not deep. Its brilliancy is fragmentary. Its art is roccoco-rich in color, lavish in decoration. Milton's poem is unbroken in its entirety. In power and poise it never flags. Its beauty is the classic simplicity of the Greek. Instead of the soft melody of the rhymed stanzas we have the measured harmonies of blank verse. Instead of allegory we have a great imaginative picture; instead of fleshly conceits, ethical truths. This is not to derogate Fletcher's work. In one sense there can be no comparison between a world-genius and a minor poet. The distance is too great and the superiority must of necessity be all on one side. The effort has been rather to place the two poems side by side in order to appreciate the better the development of thought and the growth of literary art.

Gerlinde Andrews.

EDITORIAL DEPARTMENTS.

NOTES AND DISCUSSIONS.

DURING the past year, as during the quadrennium now closing, the circulation of the Review has increased; this means also an increase of net receipts. High-water mark in these particulars was reached in 1903. The Review is now read by a greater number of ministers than ever before. A large circulation for such a periodical is not easy of achievement. Almost incredible it is how small a list of subscribers our Review had in the greatest years of Dr. Whedon, the ablest editor any American religious review ever had.

SOME GERMAN CRITICS.

ONE of the ablest and soundest contributions to historical biblical criticism in the nineteenth century was Bishop Lightfoot's celebrated Essays on Supernatural Religion, in which are some justly severe comments on the radical critical literature of Germany that are as fairly pertinent and applicable to-day as when first written. In illustration of the labored, uncalled-for, and preposterous ingenuities of some learned and leading German critics, Lightfoot instances the mass of absurdities nonsensically heaped up by Baur, Schwegler, Volkmar, and Hitzig upon the names of two Christian disciples, Euodias and Syntyche, mentioned in the Epistle to the Philippians. The fantastic, frivolous, and well-nigh idiotic ado made over those two simple names shows what foolishness technical learning can sometimes perpetrate.

First, Baur applied his penetrating intellect to the Philippian epistle, and announced that the pivot of the epistle, which has a conciliatory tendency, is the mention of Clement, whom he thinks a mythical, or almost mythical, person, who, in Baur's opinion, represents the union of the Petrine and Pauline parties in the Church. Then came Schwegler, who carried the theory a step further and declared that the two names, Euodias and Syntyche, actually represent those two parties, while the true yokefellow between them is not Clement but St. Peter himself. Next came Volkmar to show that

the theory that the two names represent the two parties is confirmed by the very meaning of the names, Euodia meaning "Right way" and Syntyche meaning "Consort," denoting respectively the orthodoxy of the one party and the incorporation of the other. Last, came Hitzig, under necessity, if he did anything, to outdo the preceding critics by his inventiveness, saltatory exploits, prodigious learning, supernatural insight, and critical "stunts." Loftily deploring that the interpreters of the New Testament are not more thoroughly acquainted with the Old Testament and more fully imbued with its language and spirit, Hitzig informed his fellow-critics that these names, Euodias and Syntyche, are only reproductions of the patriarchs Asher and Gadtheir sex having been accidentally changed in the translation of the names from one language into another-and that they represent the Greek and the Roman elements in the apostolic Church. This theory, as absurd as it is unnecessary, he supported by learned appeals to the Hebrew, Arabic, Syriac, and Armenian languages. And Hitzig added the startling opinion that the whole Epistle to the Philippians is a plagiarism from the Agricola of Tacitus! This Hitzig is naturally enough the knowing critic whose ingenuity suggested that the name of Æsop, the fable-maker, is derived from Solomon's "hyssop that springeth out of the wall." Seized by a momentary ambition to match the shrewd insight of this famous German critic, we venture to inquire why it is not equally clear from the two syllables of Hitzig's name that the first part was intended to indicate his descent from the ancient Hittites; while the last part surely contains a veiled and sarcastic prophetic allusion to the zigzag eccentricities of his overloaded intellect. It is entirely fair to say that the insanely excessive skepticism and the gratuitous imposition of unwarranted and worthless hypotheses, which we have seen practiced by Baur, Schwegler, Volkmar, and Hitzig, also characterize to-day the radical school of critics to which they belonged. All sound-minded and judicious persons must agree with Bishop Lightfoot that it is impossible to have any intellectual respect for men who, upon a subject of such solemn import and supreme dignity as the interpretation of the Holy Scriptures, indulge in fancies so irreverent, baseless, and grotesque. It is like the sacrilege of theatrical vaudeville acted in the Holy of Holies. As we were writing these lines, a dispatch from Rome arrived telling us of an Italian sage and seer of remarkable literary and scientific insight, who would, if he turned his attention to biblical interpretation, make a worthy successor to the four acute critics whose exploits we

have just examined. Dr. Francolini, says the message from Rome, has discovered in Pliny and in poets from Virgil to Byron veiled references to radium, together with hints that the place to look for this mysterious metal of portentous qualities is at the source of the Clitumnus, a little river in Umbria which has violet-tinged water. It is evident, as the newspapers say, that anybody who can discover, in the works of the authors mentioned, references to radium, the justnow-discovered metal, must have powers of intellect as wonderful as the powers of radium itself. And it is not strange that on the warrant of so marvelous a genius, men of science should, as the dispatch relates, start for Umbria to search for radium at the head-waters of the river Clitumnus. But what an accession to the ranks of the intuitive radical biblical critics a man of Francolini's piercing penetration and microscopic literary insight would be! In ability to see what isn't there, he is not unworthy of their high society.

A REPLY TO AN AGNOSTIC.

BLATCHFORD, the London socialist editor, has blown such a blast on The Clarion as might easily frighten the pusillanimous and the ill-informed. He has sallied gayly forth in vaunting, vicious, and vociferous style, with all his inexperience on his head, to undertake the alluring but oft-abandoned enterprise of demolishing Christianity. His adventure will probably do him good, because he is likely to learn something. In the end he will have some experience and Christianity will have the victory. Against this slashing assailant a swift young swordsman sets himself, with polemic skill, to champion Christianity. Mr. G. K. Chesterton, journalist, essayist, and critic, has made some striking and pungent replies to the Agnostic socialist's attack. No systematic straight-out defense of Christianity is attempted, but dexterous and unlooked-for side-thrusts are delivered in the style of a nimble and versatile journalist apt at asking troublesome questions. One of his suggestions is that, in a controversy with Agnosticism, Christianity has this disadvantage, it really exists and is responsible for things, and so its occasional failures and mistakes can be pointed out. It is an actual power, an active fact, and hence it can be criticised. No such exhibit can be made of Agnosticism's failures and mistakes, for the reason that it is not a power at all; it has not anywhere been intrusted with control, nor has it assumed responsibility

for affairs. It is, out and out, one of the "outs," and for the "outs" to criticise the blunders and shortcomings of the "ins" is always easy. The "ins" are loaded with the responsibility, and have the difficult task of managing obstreperous elements in a perfect way, by the agency of imperfect, even when well-meaning, agents. The "outs" have no responsibility to carry, no task to perform, nothing to do but to sit on the fence and find fault with the management, and jeer the unsuccesses, of the "ins." The business of the opposition is to oppose the government—a very easy job compared with the onerous and complicated work of governing perfectly. Within the borders of civilization Christianity is in office; it is the governing power. Agnosticism is only a critic, not an influential active participant. It is only a negation, a cipher. Among practical realities it has no place, it scarcely exists. For ages there has been a Christian Church, actual and powerful, toiling away at all the world's great problems. It has had to "run" the whole Western World for centuries. Agnosticism is nowhere instituted or established, it is not working out any of the world's urgent problems, nor ministering to humanity's sore need; and it is not "running" anything. It has no solutions to offer. Christian civilization has been and is, and its work stands visible and open to critical examination. There has never been a totally Agnostic civilization. It is true that there have been two civilizations that might be said to represent something resembling Agnosticism. The later Roman Empire was largely Agnostic, and the Chinese Empire is largely Agnostic. The modern Agnostic, however, shows no disposition to boast of those triumphs. This, says Chesterton, is one disadvantage of Christianity in a controversy with Agnosticism: the Christian Church has long been busy doing and making many things; and so its doings are open to comment, and it has made some mistakes. Agnosticism has nowhere instituted itself, has organized nothing, and done nothing, and so its doings cannot be examined. One might say it escapes being criticised by not being at all.

The above is, in part, one of Mr. Chesterton's replies, and he makes another point against the Agnostics as follows:

"The strength of Christianity is a very mysterious thing; it has little to do with the controversial ingenuity either of its supporters or its opponents. Often it has happened that clever men have been on its side; often it has happened that clever men have been on the other side. Its strength lies not in the fact that it is eloquent or successful, or well represented; it lies in the incidental fact that it is indispen