expressions as the "redemption from sin," "cleansed by
the blood of the Lamb," and so forth. So long as there
was any question of the fall of man there was at least
some sort of explanation of such phrases; but when it
became certain that man had never fallen--when with
ever fuller knowledge we could trace our ancestral
course down through the cave-man and the drift-man,
back to that shadowy and far-off time when the man-like
ape slowly evolved into the apelike man--looking back
on all this vast succession of life, we knew that it
had always been rising from step to step. Never was
there any evidence of a fall. But if there were no
fall, then what became of the atonement, of the
redemption, of original sin, of a large part of
Christian mystical philosophy? Even if it were as
reasonable in itself as it is actually unreasonable, it
would still be quite divorced from the facts.

Again, too much seemed to be made of Christ's
death. It is no uncommon thing to die for an idea.
Every religion has equally had its martyrs. Men die
continually for their convictions. Thousands of our
lads are doing it at this instant in France. Therefore
the death of Christ, beautiful as it is in the Gospel
narrative, has seemed to assume an undue importance, as
though it were an isolated phenomenon for a man to die
in pursuit of a reform. In my opinion, far too much
stress has been laid upon Christ's death, and far too
little upon His life. That was where the true grandeur
and the true lesson lay. It was a life which even in