we stop with the apostolic interpretation of His person, or must we take into our survey the whole of the later development of Christianity? And, if the latter, what value shall we assign to the different types of historic Christianity, and how, in particular, shall we resolve the vexed questions? What is the nature of Protestantism as a distinct type of the religious life? Does it represent the final stage in the evolution of Christianity, as Harnack holds, or is it an outworn form, as Troeltsch and Sabatier maintain, destined to be superseded by a better- nay, already in many places largely so superseded? These are examples of the questions now under debate among men who agree in their general acceptance of a historical method.

Nor are the philosophical differences less important. Granting, as I suppose we should most of us be inclined to do, the legitimacy of the metaphysical as distinct from the merely scientific interest, what exactly is its nature and scope? Taking the term in the wider sense universally current before Ritschl to include all forms of conceiving the ultimate reality, whether materialistic, pantheistic, or idealistic in the narrower sense, what is the relation of the different elements which enter into our concept of the real? Does our faith in the supremacy of the spiritual involve necessarily a thoroughgoing monism, or may there remain in the Christian view of the world, as Professor James and his friends contend, an irreducible minimum of the irrational, never perfectly to be brought under law or control? What is the place and function of the individual in his relation to the universal? Here we find a wide range of questions, upon which thinkers who are in general sympathy may and do differ.

Nor, when we pass into the realm of theology in the narrower sense and confine our attention to the consideration of those spiritual values of which I have spoken, do we find lack of material for difference. There are some who would be content to abandon to other determinations all forms of human value but the ethical, and who find in conscience alone the one sure witness of the invisible God. There are others to whom this restriction seems too narrow, to whom the world of the affections, the sense of beauty, the intellectual craving for unity, represent demands as insatiable and as legitimate as that of the moral life itself; demands as rightfully to be considered in any large estimate of the evidence from which our view of the nature of God is to be derived, and by which our faith in such a God must permanently be supported.

Such, in a word, are some of the agreements which unite modern students of theology, and such some of the subjects on which they are still divided in opinion. Surely, it needs only a statement of the situation

to make it clear how important it is that some organization should be effected among all who are conscious of the agreement for more effective work in the resolution of the points on which they still feel themselves divided.

It was my privilege recently to attend the meetings of the American Academy of Science and its affiliated societies at Columbia University. At this great gathering of many thousand men of science almost every department of human research and interest was represented by its appropriate group. But theology was represented only by the Society of Biblical Exegesis, the papers of which were devoted almost without exception to the consideration of detailed points of linguistic or literary criticism, of only indirect bearing upon the larger problems of theology. Yet that very association was itself the most eloquent witness to the growing interest not simply of theologians, but of thoughtful men in general, to the questions with which theology deals. Of the papers presented at the session of the Philosophical Association not less than half were concerned with subjects bearing more or less directly upon the great interests with which, as theologians, we are concerned. Surely, the time has come when we as theologians should do our part, not merely as individuals, but collectively, in the solution of the great problems upon which the successful prosecution of our science depends.

Similar evidence of a revived interest in systematic theology comes to us from across the sea. On my table lies a recent number of the German Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche. Its first page announces a proposed reorganization, as a result of which the journal, with an enlarged editorial board, including some of the best-known names in German scholarship, is to devote itself exclusively to a discussion of the fundamental problems in systematic theology. Has not the time come when our American theology should have some organ in which similar questions should receive no less full and adequate discussion?

It would carry us too far to discuss in detail the methods by which such an organization could be initiated and such an organ created. That could best be left for private discussion by those upon whom the responsibility would more directly fall. It will be enough if I have succeeded in defining the need and voicing the opportunity. May I conclude by naming certain of the results which might be expected to follow from such an organization, if wisely managed? First, a closer personal acquaintance among all those who are interested in this particular branch of study, a circle which includes not only professed theologians, but also many philosophers and men of science whose ultimate interest is theological and religious. Secondly, a clearer definition of the prob

lems now awaiting solution, and a more systematic and concerted effort to solve them. Thirdly, the improvement of classroom instruction through the creation of the necessary helps according to a systematic plan; and, fourthly, such clearness in the definition of the great objects of religious faith as to make possible more effective preaching and more intelligent hearing by the ministers and the people at large.

It is, indeed, this last result which is my excuse for intruding so technical a subject upon the meeting of this association. Protestant theology began as an effort to minister to practical needs of the laity, and Protestant theology can hope to regain its exalted place among the sciences only as it keeps the vision of its object so clear that it can continue successfully to perform the same function. The most marvelous result of the great extension of science in our day has been a corresponding increase in the effectiveness of life. We may expect that a similar improvement in theological method will be followed by a practical advantage no less signal.

THE EDUCATION OF RELIGIOUS PERSONALITY

SAMUEL A. ELIOT, D. D.

PRESIDENT, AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION, BOSTON, MASS.

The point I want to make in this address is that religious truth requires the medium of personality. I can learn of the facts of history or economics or biology from books, from verbal or written communications; but religious influence is the contact of life with life, of spirit with spirit. Like the potential force of the sunlight that is in all the air around us and which waits for the burning lens to gather the rays and kindle a flame, so religious truth lies helpless until some personal enthusiasm comes to concentrate it and transmit it as power upon life.

Said Phillips Brooks, whose inspiring personality made me determine to be a minister of religion, and whose characteristic message I am repeating: "We often hear the cry, 'Principles, not men.' But to send out principles without men is to send an army of ghosts abroad, who would make all virtue and manliness as shadowy as themselves. It is principle brought to bear through the medium of manhood that draws and inspires." Let us realize that spiritual vitality is not a matter of spontaneous combustion. It is kindled by a spark from the burning heart of another. Feeling acts on feeling and mind on mind. Courage passes from strong to weak. Enthusiasm springs from eye to eye. We cannot explain just how these influences work. We cannot locate the wires of this invisible telegraphy, but of the fact of such communication and transmission there is not the slightest doubt. All the victorious religious faiths have had a personal origin. Christianity is not a matter of ecclesiastical politics or stately rituals or dogmatic creeds, it is just the self-perpetuating power of an example. Christianity is not a system of doctrines, it is the testimony of a life.

Let us not mistake religious machinery for religious power. The mere existence of sacred institutions, rites, and observances does not constitute religion. "Behold the appearance of wheels!" cried the prophet. But let us never forget that the source of power is "the spirit of the living creature that is in the wheels." Organization waits on inspiration. God's way to men is through men. Let us lay down our tracks of progress, let us wisely devise the mechanism through which our thought and hope may speed; but let us remember that the usefulness of our institutions finally depends upon the amount of personal

intelligence and devotion, pluck and patience, that goes into their operations.

I observe that the efficiency of a religious teacher cannot be safely predicted because of his scholarship or academic training or piety alone. These things are good; but, after all, the charm of body or mind or spirit that counts, the self-forgetting ardor that touches the heart, the ideals that inspire, are matters of individual temperament. The effective teacher, whether secular or religious, is not only a man who has that in him which will do people good if they take it from him; he is such a man that they can and will take it from him. The true prophet is he who, standing between the truth and the needs of men, transmits each to each, through the refining fire of his own personality.

Needless to say that the education of this mysterious quality of personality proceeds along very subtle lines. To analyze it is like trying to trace the edge of a wreath of mist, or like trying to separate tint from tint in the sunset sky. I can but hint at certain general methods of development which can be tested only in individual experience.

Religious personality demands first of all a conviction of reality. The effective religious teacher must deal with the things that are unseen and eternal as with matters of real experience. He must establish close communication with the permanent sources of power. He cannot be simply a looker-on at divine manifestations, watching them pass in parade before him. He must be himself in the marching line, obedient to the divine command. He needs the Psalmist's confidence in the immediate and omnipresent God. "If I ascend into heaven, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall thy hand lead me and thy right hand shall hold me. If I say surely the darkness shall cover me, even the night shall be light about me."

The peril of the religious teacher is that he shall get entangled in the machinery of religion; that he shall turn aside from the way of the personal and direct approach of the individual soul to its Creator, and get lost in the mazes of theological controversies, ecclesiastical forms, or conventional observances. It happens that I live in a university town and in constant contact with alert, open-minded young men. What demand do such earnest young Americans make upon a minister of religion? It makes no difference to them what badge or title a minister wears or what communion he represents. What they want is that he shall ring true. They demand clear sincerity of thought and speech, an unobscured vision of truth, a virile leadership in the ways of duty and public serviceableness. What they want is to be set face to face with