lated to ennoble the conduct, than any belief respecting the unseen powers." "Three Essays on Religion" (Utility of Religion), pp. 104-5. London, 1874.

The question is worthy of Mill as we know him by the history of his education. It is interesting to note how in his decision of this question, Mill could not, with Strauss, accept as decisive the idea of the Universe, for Mill, strange to say, did not trust in Nature. In the beginning of the same book, true as ever to his estrangement from reality, he speaks of

"Enquiry into the truth of the doctrines which make Nature a test of right and wrong, good and evil, or which in any mode or degree attach merit or approval to following, imitating, or obeying Nature."—Ibid. (Nature), p. 13.

These doctrines Mill rejects, for in Nature he sees blind force and nothing more. Nature inspires desires which it does not satisfy; it builds great edifices, powers, and actions, in a moment to overthrow them; it destroys blindly and indiscriminately all that it has created. For this reason Mill declines to construct on Nature any system of morals or of religion.

What, then, does he think? words:

These are his own

"When we consider how ardent a sentiment, in favourable circumstances of education, the love of country has become, we cannot judge it impossible that the love of that larger country, the world, may be nursed into similar strength, both as a source of elevated emotion and as a principle of duty. He who needs any other lesson on this subject than the whole course of ancient history affords, let him read Cicero De Officiis. It cannot be said that the standard of morals laid down in that celebrated treatise is a high standard. To our notions, it is on many points unduly lax, and admits capitu

lations of conscience. But on the subject of duty to our country there is no compromise. That any man, with the smallest pretensions to virtue, could hesitate to sacrifice life, reputation, family, everything valuable to him, to the love of country, is a supposition which this eminent interpreter of Greek and Roman morality cannot entertain for a moment. If, then, persons could be trained, as we see they were, not only to believe in theory that the good of their country was an object to which all others ought to yield, but to feel this practically as the grand duty of life, so also may they be made to feel the same absolute obligation towards the universal good. A morality grounded on large and wise views of the whole, neither sacrificing the individual to the aggregate nor the aggregate to the individual, but giving to duty, on the one hand, and to freedom and spontaneity, on the other, their proper province, would derive its power in the superior natures from sympathy and benevolence and the passion for ideal excellence; in the inferior, from the same feelings cultivated up to the measure of their capacity, with the superadded force of shame. This exalted morality would not depend for its ascendency on any hope of reward; but the reward which might be looked for, and the thought of which would be a consolation in suffering, and a support in moments of weakness, would not be a problematical future existence, but the approbation in this of those whom we respect, and ideally of all those, dead or living, whom we admire or venerate. For, the thought that our dead parents or friends would have approved our conduct is a scarcely less powerful motive than the knowledge that our living ones do approve it; and the idea that Socrates, or Howard or Washington, or Antoninus, or Christ, would have sympathised with us, or that we are attempting to do our part in the spirit in which they did theirs, has operated on the very best minds as a strong incentive to act up to their highest feelings and convictions.

"To call these sentiments by the name of morality, exclusively of any other title, is claiming too little for them. They are a real religion; of which, as of other religions, outward good works (the utmost meaning usually suggested by the word morality) are only a part, and are indeed rather the fruits of the religion than the religion itself. The essence of religion is the strong and earnest direction of the emotions and desires towards an ideal object, recognised as of the highest excellence, and as rightfully paramount

over all selfish objects of desire. This condition is fulfilled by the Religion of Humanity in an eminent degree, and in as high a sense, as by the supernatural religions even in their best manifestations, and far more so than in any of their others." Ibid. (Utility of Religion), pp. 107-9.

The foregoing words explain themselves. They show the narrowness, we should say rather the idiotcy, of human wisdom when it seeks an abstract conception of life and of humanity, while ignoring life itself, and rejecting the human soul. Such a religion may indeed be sufficient for thinkers like Mill, secluded from the world in abstract speculation, but how shall the people accept and understand it?—the people, a living organism held in communion only by living sentiment and conscience, and repelled by abstractions and generalities. In the people, such a religion, if it bore fruit at all, would bear fruit in reversion to paganism. The people-which we cannot conceive detached from Nature—if it forgot the faith of its fathers, would again personify the idea, either of the universe, resolving it into separate forces, or of that humanity which stands as a binding spiritual principle, resolving it also into its representative spiritual forces; and there would result so many false gods instead of one true God. It cannot be that we are condemned to suffer this?

THE NEW RELIGION AND THE

NEW MARRIAGE

WE are told that our religion is drawing to its end, that a new faith will replace it, the dawn of which is on the point of appearing. God grant that this may be delayed, and that, if it must come, it may not be for long! For it will not be a time of enlightenment, but of darkness.

The ancient faith contains all that human nature has of sincerity-the sincerity of direct sensations and conscience, the sincerity which, from the depths of our spiritual nature, corresponds to the words of divine revelation. This is a living truth, and its roots are sunken in the souls of all. Of it was it said: "Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice."

The ancient faith was founded on the consciousness of every man of a living soul which is immortal and one, a living soul he confounds neither with Nature nor with humanity. By this he knows himself before God and before his fellow-men, by this he wishes to live eternally. By this he enters into the free alliance of love with others, and, as he lives in his soul, so he answers for it himself. Through this the existence of his Creator is revealed as simply as his own life, and by this simple feeling, independently of reason, he maintains his faith.

The prophets of a new religion appear. Some laugh at the ancient faith, and would destroy it,

Others appear

without the will to create anew. more serious; they seek supreme wisdom, and strive to impose on us a wisdom of their own. Each offers us his own conception of truth, his favourite system of religion, for all apprehend the necessity of religion, and each would create one himself. How pitiable are these creations! They lack the power to draw the living soul and inspire it with a living idea, for not one of them sets the living spirit of God in the centre of his faith.

In recent times many various systems have appeared from the pens of philosophers, each at will attempting to construct for humanity a faith without God. Each would constitute his system on the basis of reason, by its nature an absurdity. For human reason in a straight path, ignoring and rejecting no facts of Nature or of the human soul, can never eliminate the idea of God. The true source of atheism is not in the mind but in the heart, for, as the prophet said, "The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God." In the heart, that is, in the will, is the source of all error, however reason may seek to explain it. Error is born by the desire of the heart for full freedom, by rebellion against the commandments, and against Him who is the beginning and the end of all commandments. To free oneself of the commandments, there is no other path than to reject their supreme authority, and to replace it by the authority of self. The oldest of human histories is repeated from generation to generation, "Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil." This has been the source of atheism from immemorial time.

It is wonderful, indeed, how reason deceives itself.