xt7ghx15n565_116 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7ghx15n565/data/mets.xml https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7ghx15n565/data/0000ua001.dao.xml unknown 9.56 Cubic feet 33 boxes archival material 0000ua001 English University of Kentucky The intellectual rights to the materials in this collection are held by the University of Kentucky Special Collections and Digital Programs.  Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. James K. Patterson presidential papers Group portraits. Political letter writing Kentucky--Lexington. Universities and colleges--Finance. Women's colleges--Kentucky--North Middletown. Agricultural Papers and Pamphlets text Agricultural Papers and Pamphlets 2016 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7ghx15n565/data/0000ua001/Box_12/Folder_1/129450.pdf 1890-1919 1919 1890-1919 section false xt7ghx15n565_116 xt7ghx15n565 1 x‘Pi‘lO'?’
Md Llr‘r'y
I’ .
fret / if A, A
. . ~ P ,
[I 'IT , . i [v
(Q lye,” 8 “6. a,
I” 1y ‘Gry
I h ‘
e]; hic- I“
“94,, 4y
A. (‘. TRUE, Dim-1:111?“
G ‘llli'ft till i tlil 1G“ ‘l‘ll
i l 1 ‘_ t ’ ”1
111111 11 w 11 11111 11111 at it 1111 1111i .1 11.191.
President (gt-HIP .lfll‘it‘llllll/‘II/ 11m] .lfl’r'lwlil/wtll (bl/WU!) vgr'lx'fl/Illlr'l‘gl.
[Reprinted from the Proeeedings of the Fourteenth Annunl Convention of the Association
of American Agriculturnl ('«iIlegesnnd Experiment Stations. 1'. S. Department of Agriculture,
0111a of Experiment Stutions, Bulletin 90.]

 . if)



, The law of Congress approved July 2, 1862, which made provision for the estab-
lishment, endowment, and maintenance of agricultural and mechanical colleges, set
forth in section -l of the act that “The leading object shall be, without excluding
other scientific and classical studies, and including military tactics, to teach such
branches of learning as are related to agriculture and the mechanic acts, in such
manner as the legislatures of the States may respectively prescribe, in order to pro-
mote the liberal and practical education of the industrial classes in the several pur—

l suits and professions in life.”

i In this section certain lines of work are made obligatory, viz, “military tactics,”

those branches of learningr “related to agriculture,” and those branches of learning

“related to mechanic arts.” Of these three it may be conceded that, while all are

‘ obligatory, “agriculture and the mechanic arts ” are relatively of primary importance

and “military tactics” of secondary importance. There are certain other lines of

work which are permissive, viz, “the scientific and classical studies.” It is, I believe,

1; a fair interpretation of the two groups that the obligatory is considered the more

5 important and the permissive the less important, so far as the purposes of the act are

x concerned. The intent is set forth in the concluding lilies of the section, viz, “to

l promote the liberal and practical education of the industrial classes in the several

a pursuits and professions in life.”

; It will be observed that it is within the exclusive competency of the legislatures of

l the respective States to determine whether the colleges established under the act

E shall be limited and bounded by the obligatory features of the act or whether they

i shall, in the exercise of a wise liberality, make provision for the inclusion of “ other

5 scientific and classical studies,” also, if they adopt the latter alternative, then the

l institutions founded under the act make their instruction liberal-as well as practical.

a It may not be inappropriate to consider for a few minutes how far the intentions

3, of the founder have been realized.

' Many of the institutions founded under the act have large incomes, accruing partly

. from the interest on the proceeds of the land grant, partly from liberal appropria-
tions from the respective States. In some instances State aid surpasses the income

1 from the legislation of Congress.
3 In a meeting in Washington in 1885, when I expressed the conviction that com-
l pliance in good faith with the organic law required daily instruction in military
science and daily drill I was met with a storm of dissent from every quarter of the
house. The idea of daily military drill and instruction was scouted and ridiculed.
' After a few years military instruction grew somewhat. more in favor. Some colleges
had military instruction twice each week; some three times; some every day. The
college which I represent has maintained the principle of daily drills and military
instruction, and has required every man during his college connection to do military
The good results of military instruction in the land-grant colleges were apparent
during the war with Spain and the military operations subsequently in the Philip-
; pines. Every State in the Union was able through its agricultural and mechanical
college to provide the necessary number of officers for the contingent which it fur-
' 99
.l ,

nished for the increase of the Army, many of them quite as well educated and quite
as capable as graduates of West Point. The wisdom of Senator Morrili’s forecast was
thus justified by results.

Irrespective of providing an educated military reserve, I believe that military
instruction in these colleges is a good thing in itself and in its relations. It is a valu-
able element in physical training; it inculcates promptitudc and exactness, pro-
motes grace and dignity of movement, and, above all, enjoins and compels obedience
and submission to wholesome discipline and restraint—one of the most important
lessons to be learned in any country and especially in our own, where the coordinate
ideas of liberty and authority are but imperfectly understood. For these reasons,
but briefly expressed, I believe that every land—grant college in America ought to
make the military feature of coordinate obligation in dignity, and should endeavor
to make the military instruction as thorough and comprehensive as the act of 1862
intended that it should be.

“hen the statute of 1862 was passed the country was in the throes of a great
national crisis. Military considerations were paramount. There was abundance of
material out of which to make soldiers, but the material when listed, or later on
drafted into the service, was raw and undisciplined. The officers elected by the regi-
ments and subsequently confirmed by the States and by the \Var Department were
as little fitted for command as the men whom they were appointed to lead. The
majority of them knew nothing about the requirements for a good soldier; they
could not drill the men; they could not instruct them in tactics; they knew nothing
about strategy. Senator Morrill saw the necessity of providing officers, and that too
out of all proportion to the ability of the Military Academy to supply. Officers who
would be thoroughly drilled and able to command on the field; officers who should
be well versed in the modern science of warfare. The thought suggested to him the
propriety of making the colleges founded under the act military schools, schools for
making soldiers as well as schools for scientific agriculturists and scientific mechani-
cians. The country could not afford to keep a standing army of half a million men
with the proper complement of officers under arms, but it could afford at inconsid-
erable expense to provide for the military instruction of all who matriculate in these
colleges and thus have thousands and tens of thousands of men ready at the call to
arms and capable of shaping into companies, and regiments, and brigades, and divi-
sions, and corps, and armies the volunteers and conscripts of future days. Thus the
military feature was engrafted on the land—grant colleges and made a coordinate and
obligatory feature of their organization. But a. reaction set in after the close of the
war. Men were wearied with civil strife. After four years of continuous warfare
they were ready to sheath their swords and devote themselves to the ways and arts
of peace.

The military feature of these colleges became generally unpopular and the amount
of military instruction was reduced to a minimum, if not eliminated altogether.
Between 1885 and 1897 there was a gradual revival of interest in military matters in
these colleges. The \Var Department held out prospects for promotion to students
who had graduated with honor in military science and the governing boards of the
colleges and universities gradually became conscious of their duty under the law.
The consequence of this awakening was that when the Spanish American war came
on hundreds of educated men, well drilled in the manual of arms, familiar with tac-
tics and strategy, were available for officers, not only in the volunteer, but in not a

few instances for the Itcgular Army. In discipline, in aptitude, in knowledge of
military science, in all that goes to make an able, intelligent, and capable otlicer, the
graduates of laud-grant colleges were able to hold their own with the best \Vcst l’oint
men. I say this, and I say it with pride, not to disparage the graduates of the Mili-
tary Academy, but in justice to our own men.

. It may be well in this connection to say that by judicious and cooperative effort
there is a strong probability that an appropriation can be had from the Government
for establishing schools for marine engineering in connection with the existing schools
of mechanical and electrical engineering which will enable the land-grant colleges to
educate men for this branch of the naval service and thus to do for the Navy what
they are now able to do for the Army.

Of the two objects in the mind of the author of the act of lSGQ—Damely, the scien-
tific development of agriculture and the application of science to the mechanic arts
by providing instruction in those branches of learning relating thereto the mechanic
arts seem, as measured by ultimate results, to attract more students and to graduate
more students in full and relatively complete courses in the ratio of 4 or 5 to 1. In
many of these colleges students in the application of science to agriculture can not be
had for long courses of study. These latter have been abridged from four years, to three,
from three to two, from two to one, from one year to afew months or even weeks. These

truncated courses of study, necessarily meager and partial, supply some practical knowl-
edge, but do little in the way of either scientific instruction or education. I have had
occasion to collect college statistics for other purposes and find that of 20 or 30 repre-
sentative colleges the number of those who completed regular courses of study which
led to the bachelor’s degree in agriculture and in engineering in 1900 were about 126
in the former and 620 in the latter. This seems to show that the trend of education
in the land-grant colleges, so far as the purpose of the founder was concerned, is in
the direction, not of agriculture, but of the mechanic arts. In some of these colleges
the graduates in classics and in other scientific studies outnumber both the one and
the other. This seems to indicate that though agriculture is encouraged by farmer’s
institutes and all the machinery which ingenuity can devise for its upbuilding and
growth, farmer’s do not care to educate their sons in agriculture, or the sons object
‘ t0 the kind of education specially provided for them. Farmers in most parts of the
country, I think, prefer when they send their sons to college, to educate them for
professional life, as lawyers, clergymen, physicians, engineers, or anything, indeed,
but farmers. ()11 the other hand merchants, bankers, professional men, gentlemen
of fortune and gentlemen of leisure prefer for the most part a liberal education for
their sons, though many place them in engineering schools.

The aggregate agricultural productions are large, but few farmers are rich. They
are not rich in the sense that merchants and contractors and manufacturers and iron-
mastcrs and railroad magnates are rich. Many of them are, it is true, well off. But
of the thousands of millionaires and multimillionaires in America how many of them
became rich by farming? This I imagine is the main reason why the agricultural
side of the land-grant colleges do not flourish as the mechanic arts and scientific
branches and classical and philowphical subdivisions do. If then I were to sum up
the work of the colleges outside of the experiment stations, I should say that engi-
neering and classical education and philosophical training take the lead, andthat agri-
culture follows, oftentimes with a halting, limping gait and considerably behind. From
many points of view this is to be regretted. I can not but look on the agriculturist
as the mainstay of the country, and that upon his education and intelligence and
patriotism the perpetuity of free institutions depends. An approximately correct
diagnosis may lead to a remedy.

The scientific instruction in these colleges outside of agriculture and the mechanic arts
has had a great and gratifying development. Those sciences which deal with matter
and with life in their broadest extent have been cultivated for their own sake and not
because of their relation to agriculture and the mechanic arts. The boundary lines
between the known and unknown have been pushed back from year to year, enlarging
the domain of realized knowledge to a degree which could not have been anticipated
a generation ago. The far-reaching generalizations of Darwin and the practical dis-
coveries of Pasteur, with their manifold applications in theory and practice, gave a
notable impulse to discovery based upon observation and experiment. In these the
land-grantcollegeshavetakcnthelead inAmerica. They have, moreover, been largely
instrumental in stimulating increased attention to natural science in many of the
older institutions of the country. Harvard and Yale and Princeton and Columbia
have ftiillt'iwed the example, though somewhat reluctantly at first, of the colleges estab-
lished under the act of 1862, and have spent large sums of money in equipments for
physical, chemical, and biological instruction and research. They have not, how-
ever, been able to keep pace with the State colleges and universities in scientific
investigation and instruction. These latter institutions, drawing largely from the
liberality of their respective commonwealths, have had resources at their command
which even the best of the Old universities with their princely endowments were
unable to equal. The effect has been to liberalize and widen the scope of university
work, and to modify the character of the old scholastic training by the. introduction
of a much-needed leaven drawn directly from the daily operations of nature in her
own great laboratory. While the land-grant colleges have given a wholesome stim-
ulus to scientific investigation and discovery in the older colleges and universities,
these latter have been instrumental in causing the State institutions to introduce a.
large element of liberal culture into their courses of study. Philosophy, literature
and classics, and modern languages and comparative philt'ilogy, Aryan and Semitic,
find adequate recognition in most of the higher institutions founded under the act of

1862. These are permitted by the organic law, and in connection with the scientific
courses afford educational facilities unsurpassed on the Western Continent. Classical
and philosophical training have held their own for centuries. The natural sciences
have not superseded them, nor are they likely to do so. As a means of mental (level-
opment and of mental discipline, of the cultivation of the mind as an instrument for
the perfection of thought, Latin, (ircck, logic, and metaphysics have no superior, and
it is doubtful whether they have or will have an equal.

The roots of our modern civilization go back to the language and literature and
philosophy of the “dead but sceptered sovereigns who still rule our spirits from their
urn.” It is impossible to dissociate ourselves from the civilizations of the distant
' past. And in this age of intense devotion to material things, to the multiplication
of the products of the field and the forge and the loom, to the improvement of the
' facilities for intercommunication; in this age of steamships and railroads and tele-
graphs; of manufactures and commerce reaching out to the ends of the earth and
seeking new spheres of influence and new fields of enterprise; in this age of intense
devotion to the accumulation of wealth, it is well that the desire should exist to
educate and develop the intellect on lines that do not stimulate and impel its pos-
sessor to transform his brain into a mint for the coinage of gold and silver. For this
purpose classics and the liberal arts—the humanities, as they were very properly ”
designated—provide the necessary conditions and supply the proper counterpart.
The bread and butter sciences are needful, nay indispensable, but “man does not
live by bread alone.”
To build machinery for agriculture, for manufactures, for locomotion, is well. To l
breed poultry, to fatten pigs, to develop beef in cattle and speed in horses, to multiply
the return from the fields of wheat and corn and cotton and cane, increase the com- l
forts and conveniences and well-being of life. These are the material conditions of
civilization and refinement, but these are not ends in themselves; they are means to
the attainment of a higher end. They should rightly subserve the development of the
intellect, the growth of intelligence, the discipline of the mental faculties, the quicken-
ing of the moral powers, the cultivation of the aesthetic powers, to the end that the true, '
- the beautiful, and the good should find synmietrical and harmonious growth. Then
would we understand and live for the sublime truth that “on earth there’s nothing
' great but man, in man there’s nothing great but mind.” Then would be realized
the ideal of the founder to provide an education at once practical and liberal “for
the industrial classes in the several pursuits and professions in life.” Culture and
refinement and intelligence and humanity and an enlightened patriotism will then
be possible in the homes of the masses as well as in the stately mansions of the
classes. In the former rests the hope of the future, and not in the wealthy few '
Whose accumulated fortunes are counted by tens and hundreds of millions.
“Ill fares the land to hastening ills a prey .
Where wealth accumulates and men decay.
Princes and lords may flourish or may fade;
A breath can make them as a breath has made. I
- But a bold peasantry—their country’s pride, ‘1 ’
When once destroyed can never be supplied.” I
— _ I
l l
l l


‘ .

y ‘ _


3 ‘

E _

  , ., '_. ; - s C. MMENCEM ENT L h i . , - ,
I , ; , u ADDRESe , __ ~- +
figfiai *g,.:;;'.,,e.;;wt..e a;:>~~ w" :z;:¢
' ’_ V j " f FACULTY AND STUDENTS" g ‘1
. 1.2;::2‘g'?‘I:s£1aence:.we 335E?QrOh.-Givi¥iiafi01¥’,‘:91 + v 2 §
av r, v
m marmsommnwws ; - “ i
I. ‘ 'PRESIPWFMBMTUWNIUGKIVSTATE-”Nines? 5:57" ” , g , ”
'm IUNE7 1911 ”

 ‘ t
i- .
. ‘ S
. 5..
V i1
' i
‘ .,1
I i
, ’ i,
. 3‘
: 31‘
. N
, Z!
. fl,

To THE .
Faculty and Students of Hanover College, Indiana ,
JAS. K. PATTERSON, Ph. D. LL. D., F. R. Hist. S.
“Influence of the Bible Upon Civilization”
‘Efft'tvfili'z' T has been well said that mankind, preceding the advent of
r\ )7] the Saviour, had been subjected to discipline and culture on
&;\ ’11‘7; a variety of converging lines. Flinte as we are. no SlIlglC .
. :.’)»:‘tfie' individual and no single race could suffice as the vehicle
(A and embodiment of the manifold and varied preparatory
' work which conditioned the fullness of time. Each of the
great historic races of the preAChristian world had its time of develop~
ment and its appropriate office in the education of mrmkind. The Eastern
Aryan, who left his Central Asiatic home ages before the dau 11 of history
and who. passing the Himalayas and the lndus, spread over the fertile
lands of India, lost his original monotheism in the deification of the
forces of nature, and gave a divided allegiance to Indra and Dyaus and
\'aruna. \\‘hilc unity of Cult and unity of religious belief were lost, free .
scope. was given to the play of the imagination and the liastern Aryan
‘ became the type of the hold thinker, unchecked by logical sequence or eth—
ical consequence Pure thought. the form of thought apart from the matter
of thought, the science of logical processes. whose analysis surpassed that
of lx'ant and whose generalizations rose higher than those of Aristotle,
moved on. while imagination held the reins, to elaborate, establish, assail
and destroy systems which the Academy and the Porch, the Idealism of
‘ Berkeley. the Nihilism of Hume, the Pessimism of Schopenhauer and the
Pantheism of Spinoza but repeat and reproduce. The dominantphiloso—
phies of the classic age and of the modern era were anticipated hundreds
of years by our dusky kinsmen on the Gauges and the Jumna, and nothing
in these latter :1ch has been better said than by the sages of‘iHindustan
three thousand years ago. . ,
l‘mt with all in grandeur of thought and its great riches of speculation, ‘
there is a grotesque .side to Hinduism. from which the classicism of
Greece is free. Greece had her polytheism also, a polythcism which, there.
‘ is reason to believe, followed and supplanted a monotheism equallyvgrand
and simple with that which Hindu and Greek alike derived from a com-
mon source, a polytheism fostered by, it it did not grow out of. the

 physical conditions of hill and mountain, rock zmd river, fountain zuid sea 11
which made Grcccc of all lands the loveliest and of all homes the most "
- beautiful. The beauty of nature around him evoked the idea of the beam—
tiful in his soul, kindled the creative genius within and enabled him to
realize conceptions in poetry, in marble and in canvas which became the
priceless heritage of mankind. Science perfected art and art beautificd l
and adorned scicncc. ]
, ‘ The Roman had neither the imagination of the Oriental, nor the l
sense of beauty which prevaded his Hellenic kiusmcu. Rude in speech, l
rugged in thought, stern in demeanor. owing and rendering :m allegiance ‘
to his country beyond that which Hindu or Greek with rare cxccptious
had ever conceived, the civic virtucs shouc in him with 21 lustre. which
dwarfed and cclipscd all others. Thc Roman was an organizer of men a
and his mission was to teach men how to obey. \Vith rcsistlcss cucrgy l
and uutiring zeal he gathered into one Commonwealth all the nations of l
the Old World aud held them in obedience for centuries to the city ou ‘;
the Tiber. He gave an external unity to thc ficrcc Chcrusci. thc licry .
Numidiau. the polished Greek and the dreamy. languid, imaginative recluse 1
of the Oricut. Hc welded into one all the historic nations which pre-
' ceded him and infused into them the new blood and the new life of the i
barbarian Gaul and Frank and Burguudian and Goth. l
To the Hebrew was given a graudcr mission thrill to any kindred
' stock. Possessing neither the logical power, the metaphysical subtlety and
the vivid, unrestrained imagination of the Hindu, nor the exquisite cou— ,
ccption of the beautiful and the power to project its ideal of the Greek, 11:
nor the exalted civic virtues, thc uubcnding force of will and the genius l
for organization of the Roman, to the Hebrew was given a sense of rdl— 11
pervading Deity, in the universe but above it, conditioned by no limita— i,
tions of Space or time, personal, holy. bcncl’lcicut, the creator of all, to ll
whom is due the allegiance of all, uubcgottcn, self-existent and eternal. 1“
With this ideal exalted and cxalting, was given the cognate one of per- 1 ll
sonal devotion, through acts of worship, service not fitful, transient, .
occasional and formal, but the service of a heart whose duty it was to 1
essay justice, purity, holiness and beneficeucc. The. essential ideas form— '
ing the center around which all others clustered, were the unity of God 1
' and service acceptable to him through a life of personal purity and l
obedience. ' 1
For two thousand years the scriptures of the Old Testament traced
the development and growth of these ideas. The sense of, sin and the 1
sense of ill-desert formed the dark back-ground to the ideas of God and '
. the necessity of personal purity in the human soul, and the problem thence .
emerged of how to reconcile man to himself and with God. This problem 11
also confronted the Aryan sage on the Hydaspes and the Ganges; it 1 .
loomed up before the Zoroastrian in the plains of Media and Iran and 1
though perceived with less distinctiveness by the Socratic and the Pcripa— .
tetic, its shadowfell across the Porch and the Academy and shrouded 1
in mysticism and gloom the speculations of the later philosophy of Greece. 1
The questions over recurring. but never answered: “How shall man be '
7 1

i; just with God?” and “If a man die. shall he live again?” found authori»
" tative response neither from Brahmin nor Buddhist, Pyrrhonist nor Stoic.
How. during these twenty centuries and more. the Hebrew learned
and forgot this lesson, adored Jehovah and worshipped Baal. flung him-
self repentant upon the earth in dust and ashes and again sold himself to
l the unhallmved orgies of Ashtoreth, these grand old Hebrew scriptures ‘.
l faithfully portray. :\nd when on these converging lines the fullness of ‘
l time came and God was manifest in the flesh. justified in the spirit. seen '
l of angels. preached unto the Gentiles. believed on in the world. received
‘ up into glory. the scriptures of the New Testament declare with equal sim~
plicity. fidelity and truth. ,
In comparison with the sacred books of the great ethnic religions of
" mankind. the Bible stands alone. It is not a difference in degree merely.
l but in kind; it is not that it stands first and they second, but like the
‘i Olympian Jove of Horace. all the minor deities stand at a distance
l’ so innneasurable that no one is second to him or like him. Tts thought.
1‘ its expression. its authoritative utterances. all commend themselves as
l above men. \Ve read and we yield unconstrained acquiescence. The
human soul accords an instinctive response and whether it has declared
l the whole counsel of God or not. consents that it is holy and just and good.
7 lts analysis of the weakness and greatness of man, its recognition of the
I schism within him made by the consciousness of guilt and his longing
for higher and‘ better things. its clear deliverance on the immortal destiny ' '
which awaits him and his responsibility to a power above him, all find
1} corroboration and proof in his own consciousness. How trivial the
l eosmogonies of Greek and Roman. Hindu and Zoroastrian]. compared
ll with simple yet sublime utterances in Genesis: “In the beginning God
ll created the heavens and the earth.” ”God said. Let there. be light. and
ll there was light." “The Lord God formed man out of the dust of the
ll ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life. and man became
‘ ll :1 living soul.” The Vedic hymns. beautiful though they be. awake no
. such sense of the fatherhood of God as the Twenty—third Psalm: “The
i Lord is my shepherd: l shall not want.” no such sense of his goodness
l as the One Hundred and Third: ”Like as a father pitieth his children.
l ' so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him,” no such sense of his love as i
l the utterance which forms the burden of the New Testament: “God so
‘ loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever _
believeth on Him should not perish. but have everlasting life." The
l hymns to the .\laruts. amongr the sublimest in the Veda. have no such
l lofty grandeur as the Eighteenth Psalm: “He bowed the heavens and
. catne down and darkness was under his feet. He rode upon a cherub
l and did fly: yea. he did fly upon the wings of the wind.’y Neither in the
l . \“cdas nor in the Zendavesta nor in the Koran is found any such lofty
; conception of the Majesty and Tntinity and Omnipotence of God as in the
; llth chapter of Job: “Canst thou by searching find out God? Canst
l thou lind out the .\lmighty unto perfection? It is as high as Heaven:
what canst thou do? Deeper than Hell: what caust thou know? The
l measure thereof is longer than the earth and broader than the sea."
. .
I 3

 The parables of Buddhagosha contain inaxims of worldly prudence
and of personal and social ethics which have justly excited the admir—
ation of scholars, but place them side by side with the proverbs of
2 Solomon and the Sermon on the Mount, and we see at once that they
are of the earth. earthy. not heavenly treasures in earthen vessels, but
treasures and vessels of identical mould.
We can hardly say that even the greatest among the sages of the
classical world had any well—defined belief in immortality. it \\‘as a hope.
rather than a belief. a yearning inspired by a sense of incompleteness, a ,
. tlesideratum of philosophy. rather than a religious conviction, an aspira— l
tion of the Schools. rather than an ethical fact regulative of human life,
".\n infant crying in the night.
r\n infant crying for the light,
.\nd with no language but a cry." »
i but in the Gospel. it is the ground—work of the Christian system. The
wisest of uninspired men. in that solemn scene recorded by Plato. after
drinking the cup of hemlock. discourses on the immortality of the soul .
, in language which Cato and Cicero regarded as the glory of philosophy.
but Socrates lays him down upon his couch and composes his stiffening
limbs with no clear vision of the future. and enjoins one of his faithful
companions to sacrilice a cock to :\esculapius. Compare this with the
words of Jesus: with whom Socrates is sinnetimes compared: “l have
glorified Thee on the earth: l have finished the work which Thou gayest
me to do .\nd now. 0 Father. glorify me with thine own self, with the
glory which l had with Thee before the world was. Father. T will that .
, they also whom Thou hast given me. he with me where T am. that they l
. may behold my glory."
: Homer relates in the Odyssey how Ulysses. in his journey through I
the realm ‘of shades. came in succession upon the heroes whom he had ‘
known. and who were now doomed to a cheerless existence in the
nether world. .\leeting .\chilles, the bravest of the, (Vireeks. he adverted
in terms of compliment to the precedence accorded him. and received this
reply: .
"Say me, not death in praiseful words. noble Ulysses
"I would sooner he a bonded serf.
“The laborer’s tool to ply.
“To some small cotter on the heath.
"\\"ith wealth exceeding small. i
“Than be the lord of all the shades, 1
"In Pluto’s gloomy hall.” . ,
How different this from the language of St. Paul at the close of his
, ministry, with the axe and the block before him: “l am now ready to I
i be offered and the time of my departure is at hand. l have fought a i '
good light: I have finished my course: I have kept the faith. lefeneeforth .
there is laid up for me. a crown of righteousness which the Lord, the ,
Righteous Judge, shall give me at that day, and not to me only. but to 3
all them also that love his appearing." '
4 ' I
' t

 lx’esptmsibility to one God. the author and sustainer of all, alienation
from God by reason of sin and inability to make expiation therefor, atone—
ment and reconciliation through the God—man, the fatherhood of God
and the brotherhood of man—«these were the distinctive features of the ,
Christian system as the outgrowth and complement of Hebraism and
these were the doctrines which, when accepted, revolutionized the religion .
and the morals of the Roman world. As a corallary to these, devotion .
to a personal Saviour, intense zeal for his service, love for the author of .

t our being, humility, forgiveness. mortitication of self, charity, unselfish—
ness, became the springs of a new activity, the. essence of a new morality,
the inspiration of a new life, the lever and the fulcrum by which the
potencies of humanity should be brought into play for the regeneration
of mankind. Virtues which found no place among the philosophies of
the time, or had been relegated to a subordinate place, now rose into
prominence and came to the front.

—'l‘lie new doctrine spread rapidly, tirst among the lower classes, then
among the middle. and lastly reached the highest strata of society, until

i in a little over three