To tell the things we ought to know,
To point the way we ought to go,
So audibly to bless and curse,
That he who reads may run.



A SMALL GOD AND A LARGE GODDESS


The ancient iconoclast pursued his idol-smashing with an ax. He did not
regard the feelings of the worshippers, and they, with similar
indifference to his, promptly destroyed him.

The modern iconoclast, wiser from long experience, practices the
kindergarten art of substitution; enters without noise, and dexterously
replaces the old image with a new one.

Often the worshippers do not notice the change. They never spend their
time in discriminating study of their idol, being exclusively occupied
in worshipping it.

The task herein undertaken is not so easy. We can hardly expect to
remove the particular pet deity of millions of people for thousands of
years--an especially conspicuous little image at that, differing from
other gods and goddesses; and substitute another figure, three times his
size, of the opposite sex, and thirty years older--without somebody's
noticing it.

Yet this is precisely what is required of us, by the new knowledge of