the advanced person writes that because geologists know nothing about the Fall, therefore any doctrine of depravity is untrue.  Because science has not found something which obviously it could not find, therefore something entirely different—­the psychological sense of evil—­is untrue.  You might sum up this writer’s argument abruptly, but accurately, in some way like this—­“We have not dug up the bones of the Archangel Gabriel, who presumably had none, therefore little boys, left to themselves, will not be selfish.”  To me it is all wild and whirling; as if a man said—­“The plumber can find nothing wrong with our piano; so I suppose that my wife does love me.”

I am not going to enter here into the real doctrine of original sin, or into that probably false version of it which the New Theology writer calls the doctrine of depravity.  But whatever else the worst doctrine of depravity may have been, it was a product of spiritual conviction; it had nothing to do with remote physical origins.  Men thought mankind wicked because they felt wicked themselves.  If a man feels wicked, I cannot see why he should suddenly feel good because somebody tells him that his ancestors once had tails.  Man’s primary purity and innocence may have dropped off with his tail, for all anybody knows.  The only thing we all know about that primary purity and innocence is that we have not got it.  Nothing can be, in the strictest sense of the word, more comic than to set so shadowy a thing as the conjectures made by the vaguer anthropologists about primitive man against so solid a thing as the human sense of sin.  By its nature the evidence of Eden is something that one cannot find.  By its nature the evidence of sin is something that one cannot help finding.

Some statements I disagree with; others I do not understand.  If a man says, “I think the human race would be better if it abstained totally from fermented liquor,” I quite understand what he means, and how his view could be defended.  If a man says, “I wish to abolish beer because I am a temperance man,” his remark conveys no meaning to my mind.  It is like saying, “I wish to abolish roads because I am a moderate walker.”  If a man says, “I am not a Trinitarian,” I understand.  But if he says (as a lady once said to me), “I believe in the Holy Ghost in a spiritual sense,” I go away dazed.  In what other sense could one believe in the Holy Ghost?  And I am sorry to say that this pamphlet of progressive religious views is full of baffling observations of that kind.  What can people mean when they say that science has disturbed their view of sin?  What sort of view of sin can they have had before science disturbed it?  Did they think that it was something to eat?  When people say that science has shaken their faith in immortality, what do they mean?  Did they think that immortality was a gas?