irresistible. I for one never heard him without having some difficulty removed, some moral or spiritual force quickened.

In listening to Phillips Brooks, one was so carried away by the spiritual fervor of the preacher that the limitations of his theology were forgotten. He was not a theologian, but a mystic, with all the charm of the enthusiasm that that form of thought often inspires. There is no evidence that he had any interest in the modern science of Biblical criticism. He was filled with an intense spirit of devotion to an ideal Christ, and he preached that personal allegiance as the foundation of spiritual life. It was a noble appeal, but his Christ had really little connection with the historic Jesus. To him Christ was the mystical ideal of divine humanity. Dr. Brooks may thus be said to have represented the transitional period in the theological movement of our time. He was freed from the bondage of the ancient dogmas, yet had not entirely accepted new truth. His position probably made him a more influential apostle of liberal Christianity than any of the men who are professedly its teachers. Through him our Unitarian thought has filtered into the minds of thousands who would not read "infidel" books. Many evangelical ministers have changed from dogmatic to spiritual religion through reading his sermons. Under his influence a new school of preaching has arisen in the Episcopal Church of Massachusetts. We professed liberals lack emotion in our teaching. Our sermons are too often merely intellectual efforts. Now most people want not merely an intellectual, but a heartfelt religion. Phillips Brooks gave men an undogmatic theology, and with it the element of warmth and emotional piety.

Then, too, his word was altogether constructive. He did not deal in negations. His liberalism consisted in putting new meanings into old forms. While he reached for things before, he held securely to something behind. He broadened slowly from precedent to precedent. He believed not in novelty, but in renewal. He fulfilled Goethe's dictum: "He who wishes to have a useful influence on his time should insult nothing. Let him not trouble himself about what is absurd: let him consecrate his energy on this, the bringing to light of

good things. He is bound not to overthrow, but to build up."

Phillips Brooks was a loyal Episcopalian; and yet how catholic he was! He was forever contending against that narrow spirit in his own communion which is betrayed by the growing habit of its adherents of calling it "The Church." He it was who in the convention defeated the arrogant proposition to change the name "Protestant Episcopal Church" to "Church of America." He understood that Episcopalianism is not the whole Church, but a branch, and that it is the privilege of Christian organizations to supplement, and not to slander or supersede, each other's work. His wish was to judge all men, parties, and institutions at their best. His perfect cordiality and courtesy, when in the fellowship of ministers of other denominations, arose from his habit of judg ing each sect by its worthiest representatives. As was said of his friend, Dean Stanley, he saw the Quakers in the light of William Penn and Elizabeth Fry. The Baptists were illumined by John Bunyan and Henry Havelock. Methodism shone in Wesley, and Unitarianism in Channing and Clarke. I recall that in the conversations I had with him about entering the ministry there was never a hint of proselyting. He respected my convictions; and his sympathy was just as strong, and his advice as wise, as if I had belonged to his own communion. He was not a man of controversy save with sin and moral evil. The example of his independence has been an inspiration to many timid liberals. His was the rare courage which "dared to welcome misconception in order that liberty of speech might not be denied to persons with whose opinions he did not agree." What Stopford Brooke wrote of Robertson may well be quoted of Brooks: "He showed that marked individuality is still possible even in a church where teaching, custom, and clerical bias all tend to make clergymen of one pattern. He was always ready to lay his popularity on the altar of his duty."

I delight to remember how quick was the response to his belief in human nature and in spiritual religion. Multitudes who have but small respect for ministers and churches in general venerated him. The extraordinary scenes in Boston at the time of the funeral indicate the deep impression which

he made upon the community in which he lived. I have just been reading his sermon on the "Symmetry of Life," and the incarnation of its principles in his own character seem to me the secret of his influence. His life was long in its ardent purpose, broad in the stretch of its sympathies, lofty in its reach toward God.

Amid all the narrowness and the noise, who now shall teach us to hold our convictions "so largely and so vitally that they shall be not walls to separate us from our brethren, but the medium through which we enter into understanding of them"? Amid the wrangling and the bitterness, who shall show us again, not in idle talk, but in living action, the breadth of charity, the "largeheartedness of comprehension"? Yet more and more his thoughts will move men to noble ends. His spirit will live again in others. His superiority to sectarian boundaries, his enthusiasm for humanity, his normal delight in infinite righteousness, will not fail of lasting and increasing influence. "His memorial shall not depart away, and his name shall live from generation to generation. Nations shall shew forth his wisdom, and the congregation shall declare his praise."

PHILLIPS BROOKS AND UNITARIANS.

Phillips Brooks certainly was not in name a Unitarian. Nor would any intelligent Unitarian claim, I suppose, that theologically he ought to be classed with us; though the narrower and more conservative men of his own body sometimes charged Unitarianism upon him. I think the charge was unjust. I think he sincerely believed in the doctrine of the Trinity. True he seldom allowed himself to attempt any explanation of what he meant by the Trinity, but habitually shrouded it under the name of a sacred mystery. When, however, he did attempt anything looking toward an explanation, he very soon let us see that his conception was far removed from that of the old dogmatic Orthodoxy, and only a little removed from a view which Unitarians can receive. Still, it would not be fair to call it Unitarianism. So, too, as to his belief about Christ. He held Christ to be divine; but the divinity he ascribed to him was in its nature so hu

man, and was of a character to be so fully shared by all men who will share it, that it is often difficult to see how it differs from the view of Christ held by Channing, Peabody, and many Unitarians. Still, we probably ought to grant that there was a real, even if not a wide, separation between his thought and ours on this point, as well as in regard to the Trinity.

But I think this is as far as we can go. With regard to nearly or quite every other doctrine, it is impossible to distinguish between his thought and that uttered by Channing, Ware, Walker, Bellows, Eliot, Furness, Peabody, Clarke, Hale, and all the great leaders of Our more conservative school of Unitarians; while in the method and spirit of his religion,-his love of truth, his fearlessness in inquiry, his faith in progress, his breadth of sympathy, his elevation of deed over creed, and his identification of salvation with purity of heart and worth of character rather than with mere correctness of belief or with church membership,- in all this he was precisely in line with Unitarianism, as well as with all the best liberal Christianity of the age.

Says Rev. Edward A. Horton of Boston:"

I think that we of the Unitarian denomination have admired Phillips Brooks for the following reasons: First, that he used the appeals that were full of reason and love. That he always placed character above mere creed tests. That he sympathized with the struggles of those who were than half-way to meet them. trying to find the truth, and went more That he argued and stood for liberty in religious thought, much more so than most of his associates. That he placed at the centre of his preaching the love of God and the unigarded the Church as a means, and not as versal sonship of humanity. That he rean end. That he was always ready to recognize the good in other folds. All this we admire, and for this we praise him.

Probably no bishop has ever gone so far as he to cross lines and to rub out sectarian cally Unitarian, but positively Christian, and only incidentally can it be claimed by

distinctions. I do not consider this techni

any sect.

We look upon Bishop Brooks's career as being a noble, true exemplification of the spirit of Christianity. And it must be said, and said with emphasis, that, if such a course brings him into disfavor, then so much the worse for ecclesiastical Christianity.

ter:

Phillips Brooks held firmly to a few plain truths, such as the divine Fatherhood and the human brotherhood, and found them infinitely rich, fruitful, and practical. In In his lectures on "The Influence of Jesus" he expands these ideas as the substance of Christianity, and presents Jesus himself as the supreme illustration of the sonship of humanity and its possible union with divinity. His hearty acceptance and eloquent advocacy of these ideas exposed him to the suspicion of "leaning toward Unitarianism," and all the more because he extended a cordial hand of fellowship to eminent Unitarian leaders. But this was only one phase of his large inclusiveness; and it seems to have amazed some of his churchly brethren to find him fraternizing as cordially with Father Hall, the ritualist, as with James Freeman Clarke, the Unitarian. A lady who was long among his hearers says that she derived from his ministry a habit of looking for good, and finding it, among people of all opinions.

I think these two quotations from Mr. Horton and from the Christian Register express well the general Unitarian view as to Mr. Brooks's religious position and influence. An incident that came within my own knowledge will be of interest, as showing how Mr. Brooks regarded Unitarians and Unitarianism. Several years ago, having occasion to give a series of lectures in our Theological School at Meadville, Pa., I found among the students who took the lectures two who were introduced to me as Episcopalians. After I had formed their acquaintance, I asked them why they had chosen a Unitarian instead of an Episcopalian theological school. They replied that they had come there by the advice of Phillips Brooks. I inquired the circumstances, and they told me that they had gone to him for counsel, and he said to them frankly and plainly that he thought the best place for them to go-the place where they could best get what they wanted, and what he was interested that they should have-was Meadville; and so to Meadville they had come, and they were very glad they had.

Surely, it is not strange that a man of such breadth and liberality-a man whose Christianity was so much larger than any sect should have found some of his chief admirers when living, and now that he is

and loving mourners, among Unitarians. It was only natural and fitting that among the very first to give public expression to their love and sorrow were the Unitarian and Universalist ministers of Boston, the Channing Club, and other liberal organizations.

J. T. S.

EMERSON'S GREAT BEREAVEMENT.

Thousands have read with bleeding hearts Emerson's "Threnody," that matchless poem of love and sorrow which the father wrote on the death of his boy. Hardly less touching are the following letters, called out by the same sad event, which are taken from the "Correspondence of Thomas Carlyle and Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1834-72:"—

EMERSON TO CARLYLE.

My son, a perfect little boy of five years, has ended his earthly life. You can never sympathize with me; you can never know how much of me such a young child can take away. A few weeks ago I accounted myself a very rich man, and now the poorest of all. What would it avail to tell you anecdotes of a sweet and wonderful boy, such as we solace and sadden ourselves with at home every morning and every evening? From a perfect health and as happy a life and as happy influences as ever child enjoyed, he was hurried out of my arms in three short days by scarlatina. We have two babies yet; but a promise like that boy's I shall never see. How often I have pleased myself that one day I should send to you this morning star of mine, and stay at home so gladly behind such a representative! I dare not fathom the Invisible and Untold to inquire what relations to my departed ones I yet sustain. Poor Lidian mourns at home by day and by night. You, too, will grieve for us.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

very truth he is with God, even as we that yet live are, and surely in the way that was best for him, and for you, and for all of us. Poor Lidian Emerson! poor mother! To her I have no word. Such unspeakable grief visits no creature as that of a mother bereft of her child. The poor sparrow in the bush affects one with pity, mourning for its young how much more the human soul of one's friend! I cannot bid her be of good comfort; for there is as yet no comfort. As the Hebrew David said, "We shall go to him he will not return to us."

T. CARLYLE.

CHICAGO LETTER.

We are in the midst of a spirited discussion of the public school question, which has thus far been conducted with considerable more heat than discrimination,-an important intellectual virtue, Emerson tells us. The special topic under consideration is what those most prominently engaged in the controversy call "fads" by which, it seems, they mean to characterize all branches of study in the primary and grammar grades outside the respected three R's of our ancestors and the district school. The spirit in which this controversy is conducted is well illustrated in the selection of its banner word. It would be as difficult to define the word "fad" as any other term of slang derivation used for the most part for defamatory purposes only, to describe any new thing which we ourselves do not happen to like or believe in. In the present case, its use is broad, if not enlightened, and covers, as I have said, the entire range of special studies, -German, music, drawing, clay-modelling, calisthenics, sewing, etc. Doubtless experience has proved that special lines of work like these and others are of varying need and importance in the schools, that the money and time spent upon some of these branches might be better expended elsewhere; but the present agitators of this question do not stop to draw lines and distinctions. Their methods are those of the demagogue, not the philosopher. All the "fads" must go, drawing as well as sewing, music along with German. One valuable result of the discussion lies in the testimony of some of our most intelligent Germans on the question of the teaching of their native tongue in the lower grades. Several, rather to the public's surprise, have put themselves

on record as condemning or, at least, viewing with indifference such teaching, making no claim for it as part of a naturalized citi zenship's just inheritance. Among these is Dr. Hirsch, who, however, condemned the poor methods in which this study was pursued as much as the study itself.

This new popular uproar waxes especially hot over clay-modelling, which is covered with abuse, ridicule, and scorn. The critics here are actuated not only by the usual economic motives, but by some freshly discovered humanitarian ideas oddly enough applied. Some very touching and high-toned sentiments are employed in the argument on this point. Clay-modelling is not only useless and expensive, we are told, but there are objections of far more serious order. It has been discovered that there is a possibility that the clay thus used by the happy children in a half-hour's relief from columns of figures and the hard names of unknown streams in Africa, may convey the seeds of disease. The tender heart of the school critic cannot bear this thought; and the general community, at least that portion of it which depends on the newspapers for instruction in such matters, shudders in sympathy. It is gratifying to know that there are public censors and members of boards of education who stand ready to pursue investigation and perform their duty to such heroic extremes. Some time, perhaps, this excessive care to protect the child against the diphtheretic germs and typhoid bacilli lurking in a piece of clay may extend to the more easily proved range of facts lying in questions of ventilation, sewerage, etc. But the public has breathed bad air so long that the word "ventilation" no longer has power to appeal to reason or thrill imagination; while the subject of disease germs has all the delightful possibilities of something little understood,-a subject of much effective talk, especially by those who know best about it. The attack upon clay-modelling in the primary schools from this particular point of view was a device worthy of the reportorial brain, fit to rank with Stanley's journey into Africa and Garner's experiments in the monkey languages. Another writer, rushing eagerly into the fray, informs us that the physical exercises in a certain school come immediately after recess, and indulges in much virtuous scorn and true

Rabelaisan mirth over this circumstance. Even our rickety old post-office is scarcely the cause of graver misappropriation of the public funds than proceedings of this kind.

Seriously, what do these perennial attacks on the public school mean? The progress ive and conservative forces of society are at work here as everywhere else. The former labor continually to enlarge and raise the standards of instruction, the latter to limit and deplete a system that is acknowledged by all to lie at the foundation of our republican government. Curiously enough, the changes each would bring about are advocated in the name of patriotism. One party would make the grammar and high schools the natural stepping-stones to college and university, the early and efficient means to culture and a well-rounded character. The question of these reformers is not, How shall the child be best fitted to earn his own living? but, How shall he be best developed on all sides, physical, mental, moral, made the most of a man among men? The other side is consumed with anxiety on the living problem, and all their efforts for the school are based upon the conviction that it is first and above all a training school for active business life. All that does not tend to this materialistic end must be done away. When a boy can read and write and cipher, then he has amassed the means of winning a fortune, as the history of many of our millionaires shows. What more does he need? For the boy who is not thinking of a fortune, but of a chance to develop some strong inclina tion for art or a profession, the public school need take no concern. The skill and chance to earn a little money that come with the trained hand and eye, the passion for knowledge that cannot be satisfied with the Fourth Reader, and a course in higher arithmetic, all these are possibilities and forces at work among our young American life the modern educator, as represented in the average school director, is not bound to heed. It is this party that has the floor in the discussion now waging in our city press. I call it a discussion, but it is one in which all the talking is done on one side. There are, presumably, many people in a community like this who have a word or two to say on the other side; but they are not heard

from, some say because of a line of settled policy on the part of those newspapers conducting the debate, which excludes expression of all of differing opinion. But I know nothing of the truth of such charges. Certain it is, however, that the methods employed are those of war: it is extermination to the knife. There is only one sign of hope in this, that which misdirected energy always reveals, which is apt to overreach itself, and thus become an unconscious argument for the very thing it is laboring against. Let it be admitted that the educational reformer sometimes goes to extremes, that in his zeal to abolish old mischiefs he is apt to leave the door open for the entrance of new ones. Doubtless there is room for some winnowing and sifting in the present arrangement of special branches. The whole science of education is still in the experimental stage; and it is a pity, when the newspapers see fit to take a hand in such discussions, with their enormous power for leading or misleading public opinion, they should not do so after somewhat calmer and more instructed methods than they have in this case.

I must find room for a few words more on one or two other subjects before closing. A new organization among the liberal ministers has been formed which will interest readers of the Unitarian. The prime mover in it, I am told, was Rev. A. J. Canfield of the St. Paul's Church (Universalist), associated with the memory of Dr. Ryder. I do not know the name of the new society or whether it yet has one, but its membership comprises the ministers of our four Unitarian churches, the Universalist clergy of the city, Dr. Hirsch, Dr. Thomas, Prof. Swing, Mr. Mangasarian of the Ethical Culture Society, and others. Its object is not wholly for social reunion and mutual improvement; but the new organization, though small, will try to make its influence felt in practical ways, needing the combined influence of liberal culture and moral devotion. The constitution is of slight and flexible order, with a movable chairman from month to month, after the manner of the Sunset Club.

What with our preparations for our coming Unitarian anniversaries in May and for the bewildering array of congresses, secular and religious, initiated in the same month,