40 Walks in New England 



ance of a soul so infinitely one with the in 

 forming soul of the universe that no other word 

 is possible to it, it thus puts on a universal author 

 ity, independent of Hebrew precedent or Pauline 

 glosses, and all that theologians have since argued 

 or invented. 



It is one with the certainty of Socrates as he 

 was about to drink the hemlock, and answered to 

 his lamenting friends, who asked his preference as 

 to his burial &quot; Bury me where you will, if you 

 can catch me ! &quot; It is one with Walter Raleigh s 

 lines, &quot; Yet stab at thee who will, No stab the 

 soul can kill.&quot; It is one with every outburst of 

 the Spirit itself, in Cicero and in Bernard, from 

 the psalmists to Longfellow, in Emerson, Tenny 

 son, Browning and Whitman. This is the essen 

 tial and unchanging testimony of the inspiration 

 of God, which has never failed the poets, who re 

 buke the sluggish faith of their fellows and give 

 them an uplift in the on-going life. 



And this is to be said, in this age of science, 

 which has seemed to tend toward materialism of 

 the most crushing character, even to the point 

 where men actually say that there is no truth at 

 tainable save through the processes of the labora 

 tory, and that nothing is proved until the retort 

 has tried it and the figures have demonstrated it. 

 What folly is this ! The age of science, we have 



