its time. Its intelligent people strove to destroy every vestige of it. The Greek philosophers even of the materialistic type believed in spirits, as we have seen above, but they made no use of them in their cosmic theories. The early Greek philosophy was exclusively occupied with material causes, the "stuff" out of which things were made, and almost wholly neglected efficient or creative causes par excellence. When the schools of Plato, Aristotle and the Stoics came they could ignore Spiritualism altogether and gave knowledge that degree of refinement and association with æsthetics, the latter being more important to the race than ethics, that Spiritualism had neither to be considered nor respected. In the course of time Christianity cultivated some harmony of the intellectual with the aesthetic until its present chief antagonism to Spiritualism in which it was founded is based upon æsthetic reasons alone. Throughout it all, intelligence has been arrayed against ignorance and has associated with it the antagonism between refinement and vulgarity, a conflict far more irreconcilable than the conflict between science and religion.

The chief hostility of the academic man to-day against psychic research is based upon his dislike of the vulgarity of spiritualistic performances and the triviality of its incidents. The intellectual man of to-day has inherited the Greco-Roman aristocratic feelings in regard to knowledge and has added to it, unconsciously perhaps, the Christian ideals of what a spiritual world would be, if it exists at all, and with these standards revolts against the puerilities of the phenomena as he characterizes them. He has forgotten his science in his devotion to the aesthetic life and intellectual and literary refinements. He thinks no good can come out of Nazareth. The attack of the Pharisees and Sadducees upon Christ and his apostles was based upon their plebeian character, not upon the untrue

nature of their facts. This sort of snobbery has perpetuated itself and the academic world is the inheritor of its antagonisms. This class of self-appointed authorities arrogates every right to regulate human thinking, and when it cannot achieve its purpose by reason, it appeals to ridicule, and has never learned that all the great ethical movements of history have originated and sustained themselves among the common people. It is their duty to lead, not to despise them. But they dispense contempt of those they were appointed to teach and then wonder why their selfarrogated wisdom is not respected!

The Christian Church also shares in this hostility to the whole subject more than it should. It is true that just at this time it cannot be reproached as much for antagonism as it could a generation ago. Then it maintained the attitude of æstheticism as much as the academic world. But its own decline of power and the shame that an institution which was founded on the immortality of the soul should cultivate ridicule for scientific proof of what it already believed and always taught has become too great to find any excuse for its continuance. Its own crying needs for certitude that may justify its claims are too strong for it to resist any longer and the dawn is beginning to show on the horizon of its vision. But it is too slow and too cowardly in many instances to seize the reins of power which it once enjoyed and to be at the front of this contest with materialism. It has been too thoroughly saturated with the æsthetic view of life. It has imbibed the spirit of intellectual aristocracy and has too often become the inheritor of the Phariseeism and Sadduceeism of its first enemies to see the way of redemption. Snobbery in high places helps to blind its vision of the truth. No wise man can disregard the facts of nature whatever their unbidding appearance. Professor James once wrote that a scientific man-and the

scientific man is first a lover of truth-would investigate in a dunghill to study a new fungus and thereby find laws of nature that might be discovered nowhere else. But the academic and religious æsthete prefers artistic comfort and environment to the truth.

Too many seek first beauty and truth and goodness afterward. In fact they too often make beauty convertible with the good and never find the real ethics at which nature aims. Nothing but the cold truth, divested of the illusions that hover around material art and refinement, can ever awaken man to the correct sense of duty. Knowledge may be obscured often by the life of ease and materialistic culture, but the Nemesis is always near to disturb that inglorious peace. The fishermen of Galilee were the conquerers of the world. They did not wear ermine or live in luxury. They had no fine carpets or paintings to adorn the walls of their homes. They did not talk in philosophic terms that no one could understand but themselves. If philosophy is to have any legitimate function in the world it must be convertible into the language of common life at some point of its meaning. No doubt it has its esoteric aspects and that it cannot be understood as a whole by every one. But it is not a true philosophy unless it touches life in some general doctrine or belief. But between religion and philosophy survival after death has been either an object of faith or of ridicule. In an age where certitude is demanded for every belief, faith will have difficulty in maintaining itself. In an age which seeks the assurance that science can give faith and aesthetics will not save the church and the multitude will turn to any method that offers it a refuge from despair. They are never nice about the form of truth. If it be the truth, they will sacrifice the elegancies of polite society to it. No doubt some concessions are needed to good taste, but this will no

more save a decaying creed than vulgarity will destroy a true one.

The Spiritualists have been too slow to appreciate the value of culture in the protection of truth among those who value that commodity more than the accuracy of their intellectual formulas. While abandoning the church and its creeds and appealing to facts, they have neglected scientific method as well as the ethical impulses of religion and the influence of good taste. Demanding the favor of both science and religion they despise the method of one and the ethical ideals of the other. No wonder the word Spiritualism has become a byword among intelligent people, and no redemption can come from calling themselves by a respectable name while their performances have no respectability in them.

If Spiritualism had long ago abandoned its evidential methods to science and joined in the ethical and spiritual work of the world it might have won its victory fifty years ago. Christianity was founded on psychic phenomena, and it neglected miracles in the interest of moral teaching, especially when it could no longer reproduce the healing of its founder. Its primary impulse was ethical teaching and not a vaudeville show. When Spiritualism has as much passion for morals as it has morbid curiosity for communication with the dead, it may hope for success, but not until then. The intelligent man, whether in the church or the college, will stay his interest until he is safe from the gibes of his friends for sympathy with the twaddle and unscientific discourse of the average psychic. But if the respectable classes know their duty they will organize the inquiry and combine truth and good taste with scientific method to revive the dying embers of religious and ethical passion. No intelligent person would allow the truth to perish because it is not clothed in

the majesty of art or the beauty of literary expression.

Spiritualism had one merit. It looked at the facts. The scientific man and the church cannot claim that defense in their objections to it. They allowed their æsthetics to influence judgments that should have subordinated taste to truth. But whatever apology can be made for Spiritualism in this one respect, it forfeited consideration because it did not and does not organize its position into an ethical and spiritual force for the redemption of individual and social life. It concentrated interest on communication with the dead and came to the facts only to witness "miracles." Christ complained that many of his followers were interested in his work only for the loaves and fishes, or for the spectacular part of it. The regeneration of their lives was secondary. St. Paul entered a similar complaint against the Athenians for being interested only in some new thing, not in the eternal truths in which salvation was found, no matter in what form you conceived that salvation. Communication with the dead has no primary interest in our problem. It is but a mere means to the establishment of certain truths which have a pivotal importance in the protection of an ethical interpretation of nature. To congregate only to see the chasm bridged between two worlds has no importance compared with other objects to be attained by it. We do not dig tunnels or build bridges just for the sake of the amusement. We have an ulterior object of connecting places and resources which have an intimate part in the economic and social structure. Communication with the dead is not to take the place of a theater or the movie, but to find a principle which shall be a means of starting an ethical inspiration, or of protecting the claims of those who have discovered the real meaning of nature.

I can understand the impression created by the