says for himself: "I belong with those who stand immovably convinced that God wrote the law himself upon the tables of stone, spake himself with audible voice from Sinai, appeared in the theophanies, sent angels to comfort sinners, and, as the wonderful worker for, to, and in Israel, of wonderful things, surely also foretold to man in prophecy what he, the Almighty One, thought of man, and purposed with the children of men." Dr. Kuyper rebukes even Rothe, who is one of the soberer critics of his class, for assuming that the prophets and apostles could not have possessed an "errorless" knowledge of the truth, since they were ethically imperfect; while, at the same time, Rothe himself dares to maintain that he and his friends, who may easily be below the ethical level of the apostles, are perfectly capable of attaining to "an errorless knowledge of the truth." Kuyper believes that a chosen ambassador of the living God, even though ethically imperfect, is capable of transmitting without error what his Sovereign inspires him with. The other protest is from a highly educated layman against the unwarranted liberties which are taken by Anti-creedists, the Reconstructionists, and the Higher Critics whose spirit and methods are negative and destructive. It is said that existing conditions in some places are fairly indicated by the explanation given of the dissatisfaction with the minister in a certain church: "The pastor is being tried for orthodoxy;" and by a woman's comment in another church on the sermon of a visiting clergyman, "It was such a relief to hear a preacher who has nothing to say against the Bible." This intelligent layman calls to account, in a fair but strenuous spirit, those who are responsible for the state of the public mind as indicated by the two expressions just quoted. As for the hue and cry against creeds, he declares that it is raised chiefly by the illogical, the indifferent, and the immoral. In condemnation of this cry he quotes the trenchant words of Phillips Brooks: "The decrying of creed in the interest of conduct is very natural, but very superficial. If it succeeded, it would make life and conduct blind and weak. There is no greater misnomer applied to creeds and opinions than that which lurks in the word 'advanced.' The man whose creed is the smallest, the most crude and colorless and flimsy, is called 'advanced,' while he whose beliefs are richest, and most full of hope and liberty, is called 'slow,' 'behind the times,' and other tardy names. The man who believes nothing with any energy; who masks the doctrines of our Lord's Gospel under negations; who evaporates them into a thin mist of speculation; who emasculates them of their energy by faith-such a man is called an 'advanced thinker.' The cheerless iconoclasm, which is forever breaking down the strong barriers erected in a former time, parades before the world as 'free thought.' It is no advance, but inertia-no free thought, but dullard slavery-which leads man into a state like that. Exactness, earnestness, and precise fidelity to the truth of things are better than a limp negation, and make a man a true, free, and advanced thinker." Against the decriers of theology and creeds Mr. Churchman further quotes, not one of "the bats and owls of orthodoxy," but John Fiske, who wrote: "In their beginning theology and ethics were inseparable; and in all the vast historic development of religion they have remained inseparable. . . . Neither in the crude fancies of primitive men nor in the most refined modern philosophy can theology and ethics be divorced." "And yet," exclaims this layman, "some moral spendthrifts would have us throw away our theology which is paying us the richest ethical

dividends!" He denies that the majority of the anti-theological crowd are high-browed, lofty-minded youths who are pained because they "cannot accept the old orthodox position" on this or that question; he asserts that most of the clamor against the orthodox creeds comes either from people who think they are doing something very smart, or from those who have no use for religion whether expressed in terms of theology or of ethics. He warns against the dangers which beset the working of the modern passion for reconstruction in religion. (He does not object to reconstruction when it is cautious and consistent; remembering that but for one period of wise reconstruction we should all be to-day loyal subjects of the Papacy.) But he points out the dangers in reconstruction, which are an exaggeration of the analytical elements, and a blind worship of novelty, with its accompanying contempt for the past. As intellectual beings we cannot, of course, believe more than we think true; but those of us who pretend to be teachers of Christianity must remember that it is not much inspiration to struggling men simply to be told continually how we have "outgrown this old notion" or "given up that tradition," with but a scant word of positive teaching. And then the allurements of novelty must be guarded against. It is sometimes amusing to call our forefathers names, and sometimes they (but especially those now alive whose reverence for the past is little better than ancestor worship) richly deserve it. But not all the past is bad or foolish, and our fiery steed of progress must be held in check by reason. Mere ridicule of the atonement as "mediæval legalism" can easily beget, and shortly, a similar contempt for the "mediæval mysticism" of the indwelling Christ who works regeneration; and then, having sneered regeneration out of court, we shall be ready with our "tardy names" for the "mediæval credulity" that yields unquestioning obedience to Jesus's moral and spiritual authority. Noveltyism, misnamed progress, may get us into trouble. Both Dr. Kuyper's and Mr. Churchman's articles are published in sections. We count it a misfortune that the readers of the Bibliotheca must wait three months before they can read them in their entirety.

BOOK NOTICES.

RELIGION, THEOLOGY, AND BIBLICAL LITERATURE.

Studies in Christian Character, Work, and Experience. By Rev. WILLIAM L. WATKINSON. Two volumes, 16mo, pp. 256, 260. New York and Chicago: Fleming H. Revell Company. Price, cloth, $1 per volume.

Sixty-eight short studies, each about as long as a prayer meeting talk, each based on or suggested by a text of Scripture, all in Dr. Watkinson's attractive style, and brightly touched here and there by his genius for illustration. They blend the brilliance of youth with the wisdom of a ripe maturity. Speaking from Psa. xix, 12, of the secret faults, the subtle temptations, which beset the soul of the believer, he quotes from Andrew Bonar's diary: "This day twenty years ago I preached for the first time as an ordained minister. It is amazing that the Lord has spared me and used me at all. I have no reason to wonder that He uses others far more than He does me. Yet envy is my hurt, and to-day I have been seeking grace to rejoice exceedingly over the usefulness of others, even when it casts me into the shade. Lord, take away this Achan from me." Speaking of "The Ingenuities of Love," Dr. Watkinson quotes this story: "A young man who was addicted to gambling told his Sunday school teacher that he had given up other bad habits, but that from this one he was not able to break away. 'Were you always with me,' he said to the teacher, 'I might manage to keep from it.' 'I cannot always be with you,' replied the teacher; 'but when and where do you gamble?' 'O, every day at the dinner hour; I go down to the gambling place at one o'clock,' was the answer. 'Well, I'll tell you what I'll do,' said the teacher; 'every day as the clock strikes one I'll pray for you.' The young fellow came back to the teacher after a day or two and said: 'I'll gamble no more. Yesterday I tried to go to the gambling room, and could not. I kept thinking what a shame it would be for me to be gambling at the very time when you were praying for me; and I could not do it."" The ingenuity of this teacher's love could devise a way to save his tempted pupil. In "A Meditation for Easter" it is said: "We can never be wholly reconciled to death. Darwin used to go to the London Zoological Gardens, and, standing by the glass case containing the cobra di capello, put his forehead against the glass while the deadly reptile struck out at him. The thick glass was between them; Darwin was perfectly sure of the impossibility of the snake's harming him; yet whenever that venomous creature struck at him the scientist dodged. He could not help it. Time after time his reason and his will tried to keep him from flinching. But instinct was stronger than will and reason, and made him shrink. It is much like this with the Christian's feeling toward death; he knows its sting cannot harm him, and he is not really afraid, but a natural instinct causes him to shrink whenever he comes in contact with the deadly, ghostly thing. And this instinct may not be entirely overcome by anything the reason may say. But in this instinctive shrinking there is no terror or despair." On doing all to the glory of God it is told how Jenny Lind once said to John Adding

ton Symonds, "I sing to God." The famous "Swedish Nightingale" was deeply devout, and her words expressed the real feeling of her heart. She carried about in life a vivid sense of God, and endeavored to use for His glory the extraordinary powers He had given her. Why should not we do all the work of life in the same spirit, saying: “I sing for God," "I plow for God," "I write for God," "I build for God," "I mine for God," "I weave for God," "I buy and sell for God." Not all that Jenny Lind sang was strictly sacred-doubtless some of it was secular and comparatively trivial; but ever in her soul she was mindful of God, and in a true sense sang to Him. So whatever our task may be we may do it unto Him, serving Him day and night as if in His temple. In similar strain, speaking of "Calling and Character," Dr. Watkinson says: "The grace of God can keep us in every legitimate calling. Sir Matthew Hale and many other illustrious names prove that a lawyer's life permits and may foster the noblest character. The Church boasts a constellation of surgeons and physicians who have done honor to human nature. James Smetham proves that a career of passionate art aspiration may be blended with an earnest spiritual life. Jenny Lind and Antoinette Sterling show that the public singer may walk through the world in white raiment. Multitudes of commercial men are spiritual men also. Captain Hedley Vicars and a host of others have been at once soldiers of Cæsar and of Christ. Livingstone proved triumphantly that explorers and adventurers on foreign shores, unaided by any social restraint, may live saintly lives. And just as in nature the insects which are the very scavengers of the world are clothed with gold and scarlet, so men who do the world's roughest and grossest work often shine with the beauty of holiness." On giving undue prominence to the meditative in the religious life a German writer is quoted as saying, “In this world we must not only have wings for the sky, but also a stout pair of boots for the paving stones;" and then follows this comment: "Some Christians have more wing than boot. They delight in flights of faith and fancy, and cut the poorest figure in practical service. We know a saintly sister who, with a week's neglected ashes heaped in the grate, would sit with her feet on the fender talking eagerly about entire sanctification. She had a fine eye for pictures in the fire, and her soul was ravished with visions and reveries; but entranced with her little apocalypses she forgot to attend to the dust and cinders. The attention of her neighbors was fixed chiefly on her neglected and untidy house." When Cavour died Mrs. Browning wrote, "That noble soul who meditated and made Italy has gone to the diviner country." "Meditated and made." It is necessary to do both. We must meditate in order to act wisely, and having meditated we must act, we must be makers as well as thinkers. "Do noble deeds, not dream them all day long; and so make life, death, and that vast Forever one grand sweet song." Speaking of "The Apology of the Sneak" from Judg. v, 15, 16, Dr. Watkinson finds in the passage a rebuke for the theorist and for the critical and for the sentimentalist. Under the second point he says: "The critical tribe are with us still, and abound outside of the Church. They are prepared at five minutes' notice to discuss any religious, moral, social, or political question whatever, all the while making no practical effort to diminish the evils they dissect. Especially do these critics love to scourge the Church. How clearly they can see what ought to be done! How rough they are upon the

blunders of philanthropists and evangelists! But they end there, doing nothing whatever to help solve the problems over which the victims of their animadversions are toiling; having delivered their censures, they pipe away in the fields of asphodel close by the river of a merely selfish life. They deride the mistakes of the missionary fainting under tropical suns; they point out the unwisdom of the charity organizations; they demonstrate the futility of the methods of various self-sacrificing workers; and having done all this, to their great satisfaction, they go off to see Ellen Terry play or to hear Patti sing. And we have critics of similar temper and disposition inside the Church. They constitute themselves into a standing committee of review, not to do anything helpful but to find fault with everything that is being done, and to criticise as impractical or incompetent or ambitious those who are trying, as best they know, to do what urgently needs to be done. These carping talkers are usually those who bear the smallest part of the burden and pay least of the cost. How barren and ignoble is the spirit of criticism! Often a carpet knight lectures scarred heroes of the battlefield; musical amateurs expose the faults of Handel and Mozart; the scribbler of a day points out the shortcomings of Bacon and Shakespeare. A pitably absurd thing it is for people who have never done anything for the world to enlarge upon what ought to be done and expatiate on the defects of the useful people who are putting forth earnest and praiseworthy efforts to do something." Remarking that sometimes the soul is too weary to deal with the large or the lofty and is comforted most by some plain and simple things, Dr. Watkinson says: "Sometimes in our intellectual life we can be satisfied with nothing less than the grand, the vast, or the deep; but there are times, as Ruskin reminds us, when our intellectual life is fatigued and we turn from the magnitudes and majesties of nature to find in a wild flower, a snowflake, or a foambell bread enough and to spare. So is it with our spiritual life. There are times when we thirst for great preachers and dazzling orations; yet there are seasons when a few simple words from a friend will do more for us and are all that we desire. There are times when we delight in large speculations and high argument; but, again, there are periods when, in the weariness of the mind, some simple passage or a sentence is all that we can hold. Years ago I visited a dear friend who was in feebleness extreme through long, severe affliction. He was an intellectual man who in other days had reveled in philosophy and theology; but now he drew from under his pillow a tiny book by Miss Havergal containing only a few reflections on simple passages of Scripture, whilst he said with a smile, 'This is enough now.' One more story: "At the foot of a cliff, under the windows of the Castle of Miramar, formerly the residence of Maximilian, the Mexican emperor, at a depth of eighty feet below the surface of the Adriatic's clear waters, is a kind of cage fashioned by divers in the face of the rocks. In that cage are some of the most magnificent pearls in existence. They belong to the Archduchess Rainer. Having been left unworn for a long time, the gems lost their color and became 'sick;' and experts were unanimous in declaring that the only way to restore their original brilliancy was to submit them to a prolonged immersion in the depths of the sea, in their native element. They have been lying submerged there now for a number of years, and are gradually regaining their former unrivaled loveliness and liveliness of color." The soul of man, out of its native element of righteousness, for which it was born, is like a "sick" pearl. Like