order in which they manifested themselves in the historic developmentfear, surprise, affection, pugnacity, curiosity, jealousy, anger, play, sympathy, emulation, pride, resentment, love of the beautiful, hate, cruelty, benevolence, revenge, rage, shame, regret, deceitfulness, and the emotion of the ludicrous.

Most men will feel that this is a scientific refinement whose general lines may be accepted, but whose minutiæ are far from being definitely ascertained. We feel ourselves on infirm postulates when we say a child at three weeks manifests fear followed at seven weeks by social affections, and at twelve weeks by jealousy and anger, and at five months by sympathy, and at eight months by pride, resentment, love of ornament; and at fifteen months by shame, remorse, and a sense of the ludicrous. His chief point, however, is emphasized, that these emotions are positively existent in the lower creation.

In Chapter V. he deals very interestingly with the growth of language, claiming that gesture and emphasis must be taken as factors, as well as enunciated speech.

Chapter VI. deals with objections drawn from the struggle for life against the very goodness of a divine originator and supporter of such a universe an interesting chapter, but not a final and satisfactory explanation of agony and war.

From Chapter VII. onward, he endeavors to show how out of the principle of the struggle for the life of others, the altruistic principle, has grown love, maternity, and benevolence, these clustering around the feminine element, while around the masculine cling law, order, righteousness. The work done in these chapters is most painstaking and reveals the master hand, but one feels as when skating on thin ice, exhilarated, but rather doubtful as to the issue of the adventure. It may all be science-but can scarcely be an exact science.

The book seems to claim for itself special freshness and newness: but while Drummond has undoubtedly stated his principle, "struggle for the life of others," as with new emphasis, Darwin, Spencer, Hæckel, and others would be astounded to be told that they had left out the reproductive factor in the struggle for life. Darwin, for instance, explicitly states, "I use this term [struggle for existence] in a large and metaphor. ical sense, including dependence of one being on another, and including, which is more important, not only the life of the individual, but success in leaving progeny." The followers of Darwin will undoubtedly claim that Darwin's positions have been misapprehended and misstated. They, as well as Professor Drummond, will insist on both factors-nutrition and reproduction, and point to chapters by the hundred which treat on the reproductive element-the struggle for the life of others, "success in leaving progeny." It is not merely the individual life that is meant in the struggle for life, but the life of the species, and the struggle for life of the

individual at last resolves itself into species existence, and species implies constant reproduction.

In conclusion, we lay the book down, having been entranced by metaphors, dazzled with meteors of resplendent rhetoric, entertained by brilliant figures, instructed by the skilful statement of numerous biological facts, gladdened to find a thorough-going evolutionist who believes that He who made all things is God and in a special emphasis can repeat, "In the beginning God created,"-yet after all its learning, rhetoric, belleslettres, and brilliant illustrations, one feels that there is much in it that, to say the least, bears the impress of special pleading.

Professor Drummond blames Darwin for using his principle of the struggle for life as if it were a ladder with only one upright, and urges the use of the other factor, the struggle for the life of others. It is a brilliant illustration, but the old illustration of a boat and the two oars would be better. The struggle for life would then be one oar, and the struggle for the life of others would be the other-yet there remains another factor; put the rudder to the boat, and all is well-the Rudder, "He who worketh all things after the counsel of his own will."

OBERLIN, OHIO.

FRANCIS D. KELSEY,

THE TRUE RENDERING OF ROMANS IX. 3.

Ηὐχόμην γὰρ ἀνάθεμα εἶναι αὐτὸς ἐγὼ ἀπὸ τοῦ Χριστοῦ.

THE right explanation of Rom. ix. 3 involves more than one important principle of exegesis. One is this: Theological inferences are of no account against the simple obvious meaning of a passage. The theological pressure on this passage is well expressed by Mr. Hutchings in the BIBLIOTHECA SACRA for July, 1894: "The usual exegesis makes Paul willing to be excluded from all hope of salvation, including not only endless suffering, but also positive enmity toward Christ forever" (p. 512). This consideration is made to support the rendering, "For I myself did wish to be separated from Christ," the reference being to Paul's life before conversion.

Now against this pressure from without is the fact that the passage itself, if translated “I wished,” etc., is not a natural reference to Paul's past life. He refers to that life more than once with a definiteness and warmth that leave no doubt as to his meaning. He could say, "I verily thought with myself that I ought to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth. . . . Being exceedingly mad against them, I persecuted them" (Acts xxvi. 9, 11). "Beyond measure I persecuted the church of God, and made havoc of it" (Gal. i. 13). He could humble himself to say "that am not meet to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God" (1 Cor. xv. 9). It is incredible that such a bare uncir

cumstantial statement as is proposed, should be Paul's confession as a persecutor. The obvious impression is against it. No one would think of it except under outside doctrinal pressure. And for this obvious impression there are at least two distinct reasons: 1. The expression "anathema from Christ" is appropriate only in the mouth of a Christian, or one who considers himself a Christian. It implies renunciation of Christ and banishment from him. 2. There is no adverb of past time which would make it read thus, "I myself once [more] wished." "But," one may say, "take heed to your grammar, and obey the imperfect tense, with or without TOTÉ. This leads me to give as a second rule of exegesis: Avoid what may be called a mechanical use of grammar. A sentence is not a piece of dead mechanism, grinding out its meaning by the levers and wheels of mood and tense; it participates in the life and flexibility and sensitiveness of the mind that produces it. Grammar is corrective, not creative; a good servant, but a bad master. rived from the meaning, and not the meaning from grammar.

Formal grammar is ultimately de

All that has now been said implies, or half implies, that the theological pressure on this passage is valid and weighty; but it is not. If it were, it would be one's duty to resist it, but there is really nothing to resist. By a cool analysis some of us have found dreadful things in the passage, but cool analysis is here out of place. The words are a hot outburst of devotion and love. "Let Paul go down-down to everlasting destruction, if only Israel may be lifted up to salvation." The apostle did not stop to measure his words, and we shall get his meaning not by picking away at the syllables, but by catching the spirit and feeling. "Was Paul then a Hopkinsian, 'willing to be damned'? Was he willing to be an enemy of Christ? Willing to sin forever?" No; if you speak of deliberate choice. But he was not expressing deliberate choice, but the most undeliberate passion of love. The language of logic failed him, and the language of pain and agony took its place. "Did he, then, mean what he said?" Rather he meant what he felt. He did not mean all that we can possibly find in his words. He uncovered his throbbing heart; that was all, that was enough—too much for modern cool-headed analysis. Let us, then, set down a third rule of exegesis, which may, perhaps, be expressed thus: When a writer does not measure his words, the reader should not.

ADELBERT College.

L. S. POTWIN.

ARTICLE IX.

SOCIOLOGICAL NOTES.

STRIKES.

As a remedy for poverty; or as a means of obtaining more than the market price for labor; and, in most instances, as a means of securing meager justice, it would seem as if the wage-earning classes must long ago have lost all confidence in strikes. The history of strikes is, in the main, a history of failures. The gain from a few questionable successes is not at all commensurate with the cost. The loss of money and the estrangements and suffering incidental to such modes of warfare will far outweigh any seeming advantages. It might be said that, as a remedy, a strike is admitted to be inadequate, but it is the only means of educating the public to the wrong inflicted upon the wage-earning classes by permitting the inexorable laws of supply and demand to have the same free play in the labor market as they have in the world of commodities.

But the sway of those laws has in no wise, as yet, been restricted, nor have strikes revealed any method of evading them, that appeals to the sober judgment and sense of justice of the American people. Whether great economic truths must be emphasized by principles of warfare or revealed only by violence, is rightly open to question. There must be some better method of procedure.

The real object of a strike is to compel an employer to conform to some assumed standard of justice which he has refused to adopt. It is well known that an employer will calculate the injury to his business resulting from the sudden stoppage of his works and the withdrawal absolutely of all laborers who have been especially trained to their duties; and the loss resulting from breaking in new men. The employer does consider carefully these things; but another consideration is, in these days, precipitated by labor organizations for the purpose of overcoming the employer's determination to run his business as he pleases even when he pleases to do right. That consideration is the fear of violence, or trespass upon his rights and property. It is the use of violence, which labor organizations calculate will compel an employer to pay more than the market price for labor. The only ground of justification for such a demand is the wants of the wage-earner and the abundance of the employer, which is assumed as a fact, and then acted upon as such. The spiritual law of stewardship is usually brought into play in place of the

economic law of ownership, and thus "justice" and benevolence get sadly mixed and confounded.

A strike is always a declaration of war. It is a failure from the start, unless it be an active, persistent war on the property and rights of the employer; for, with a labor market oversupplied, the eternal laws of supply and demand will defeat any strike at every point. Skilled workmen, like fine watchmakers or first-class carvers, corner the labor market in quite another way by their superior genius and skill in their trade, thus reducing competition to a minimum; but in the trades where little skill is required and little education,-but the use more of muscle than mind is involved,-strikes are always fiercest and the battle the most brutal, for it is not so simple a matter to corner such a labor market.

And such strikes, to be successful, involve not only attacks on property and life, but, more recently, call for the use of the State militia or of Federal troops. Thus the rights of the employer and of the employe are not the only ones involved, but the rights of the public and of the man who desires to work at lower wages (usually a non-union man) are at once involved. In all memorable strikes, thus far recorded, the struggle has quickly assumed a warfare not only between capitalist and laborer, but between laborer and laborer, and between union labor and the State. It is, in short, a struggle between the manual toiler and the simple law of supply and demand. Practically, the real question becomes, Has the non-union laborer any rights which the public and the labor organizations are bound to respect? Must the economic laws of supply and demand be suspended at the expense of the non-union man?

Theoretically, there is but one answer to that question. That answ was voiced by the Royal Labor Commission of England, early in 1894, when it recommended that "all the power of the State should be exercised to protect non-union men in their right to work without interference from union men.” This was voiced again by the Congressional Committees appointed by the Senate and House to investigate the Homestead troubles. The Hon. William C. Oates, chairman of that committee, said: "The right of any man to labor upon whatever terms he and his employer agree, whether he belongs to a labor organization or not, and the right of a corporation or person to employ anyone to labor in a lawful business, is secured by the laws of the land. In this free country, these rights must not be denied or abridged. To do so would be to destroy that personal freedom which has ever been the just pride and boast of American citizens." The late Hon. George Ticknor Curtis, the able constitutional lawyer who wrote the History of the Constitution, said: "This coercion of non-union men, however attempted, and in whatever it ends, should be made a crime and be punished with severity. It is contrary to the fundamental principles of our institutions."

Although the laws of our land and the sentiment of the people are