This College cherishes the memory of its founder, whose benefactions were untrammelled by denominational conditions, but whose faith in the principles of his communion was lifelong and profound. It is therefore appropriate to set apart one day in the year when some aspect of these principles shall be presented to the College, not only as a tribute to the founder, but as a recognition of the religious comprehensiveness and ecclesiastical catholicity which it is the privilege of students here to enjoy.

These passages, which I have printed elsewhere, I venture to reproduce on the ground that they state, if somewhat baldly, not indeed all that is important for an individualistic philosophy, but what is most distinctive and necessary. And thus they enable us to see the full dimensions of the question which I shall endeavor to answer, namely, whether the spirit of a free man is compatible with that reverence for the universe and desire for unity with the universe, conceived always as a personal universe—or, more concretely, with that worship and love of God—which I shall assume to be implied in any genuine religion. I need hardly say that the usual answer to the question would be negative. Those who stand firmly enough for the right of self-assertion in the presence of our fellows would be likely either to deny the authority of religion or at any rate to hold that self-assertion has properly no place there. And traditional Christianity, while teaching the doctrine of a personal relation to a personal God and, in the doctrine of personal immortality, affirming, almost distinctively, the worth of the individual soul, treats this worth, hardly as a right, but as a gift, and holds that though a man may stand upright in the presence of his fellows, in the presence of God his attitude must be one of self-abnegation and self-effacement—of submission. On the other hand, in Mr. Bertrand Russell's essay, A Free Man's Worship, in which I should say that the motif of the “free man” is rendered for the most part admirably, it seems to be implied that a free man's religion is necessarily a religion of self-sufficiency. This states my question: Does the individualistic motive imply a spiritual self-sufficiency?

The familiar process of the elimination of factors from a confused equation is bringing a new stage of progress and of hope in dealing with the form of delinquency which is most distinctive of the English-speaking nations. Until now the forces of alcoholism have nearly always been given the choice of weapons. Too often unreason and ill-restraint have been matched against their like, with the result of only further intrenching the hostile power.

The purpose of this article is to study the incarnation in ethical terms. And that means to study it as an ethical process, as concerning the whole life of Jesus. It is a common tendency to identify the incarnation with the conception or the birth of Jesus, to make it an event in a moment of time. As the atonement has too often been limited to the death of Jesus, instead of being treated as the outcome of his whole atoning life, so has the incarnation too often been limited to his birth. But if we are to treat it in ethical terms, we have to deal not simply with the incarnate birth but with the incarnate life.

The conditions of modern life and the demands for efficiency are pressing the question of salaried workers and wage earners. Salaries and wages are not large enough to enable them to lay up sufficient money for old age. Efficiency demands early retirement from the most active fields of service; division of labor and expert work offer few new openings for those who have passed middle life; the children have not wages or salaries large enough to support their aged parents; adequate life insurance is too expensive for most. The community as a whole must keep its members from suffering and starvation. Hence the demand for retiring- or old-age pensions, under systems whereby all the people in their active days pay taxes for the support of a part of the people in their old age.

In a recent number of The Harvard Theological Review, Professor Douglas Clyde Macintosh of the Yale Divinity School outlines in a very interesting manner the religious system to which he gives his adherence. For “substance of doctrine” (to use a form of speech formerly quite familiar at New Haven) this religious system does not differ markedly from what is usually taught in the circles of the so-called “Liberal Theology.” Professor Macintosh has, however, his own way of construing and phrasing the common “Liberal” teaching; and his own way of construing and phrasing it presents a number of features which invite comment. It is tempting to turn aside to enumerate some of these, and perhaps to offer some remarks upon them. As we must make a selection, however, it seems best to confine ourselves to what appears on the face of it to be the most remarkable thing in Professor Macintosh's representations. This is his disposition to retain for his religious system the historical name of Christianity, although it utterly repudiates the cross of Christ, and in fact feels itself (in case of need) quite able to get along without even the person of Christ. A “new Christianity,” he is willing, to be sure, to allow that it is—a “new Christianity for which the world is waiting”; and as such he is perhaps something more than willing to separate it from what he varyingly speaks of as “the older Christianity,” “actual Christianity,” “historic Christianity,” “actual, historical Christianity.” He strenuously claims for it, nevertheless, the right to call itself by the name of “Christianity.”