ttedly knew much of what we think we know
about ethics and economics, knew a little more than we are
beginning to know about psychology and psychic phenomena.
I remember reading, not without amusement, a severe and trenchant
article in the _Hibbert Journal_, in which Christ's admission
of demonology was alone thought enough to dispose of his divinity.
The one sentence of the article, which I cherish in my memory
through all the changing years, ran thus: "If he was God,
he knew there was no such thing as diabolical possession."
It did not seem to strike the _Hibbert_ critic that this line
of criticism raises the question, not of whether Christ is God,
but of whether the critic in the _Hibbert Journal_ is God.
About that mystery as about the other I am for the moment agnostic;
but I should have thought that the meditations of Omniscience
on the problem of evil might be allowed, even by an agnostic,
to be a little difficult to discover. Of Christ in the Gospels
and in modern life I will merely for the moment say this; that if
he was God, as the critic put it, it seems possible that he knew
the next discovery in science, as well as the last, not to mention
(what is more common in rationalistic culture) the last but three.
And what will be the next discovery in psychological science nobody
can imagine; and we can only say that if it reveals demons and their
name is Legion, we can hardly be much surprised now. But at any rate
the days are over of Omniscience like that of the _Hibbert_ critic,
who knows exactly what he would know if he were God Almighty.
What is pain? What is evil? What did they mean by devils?
What do we mean by madness? The rising generation, when asked
by a venerable Victorian critic and catechist, "What does God know?"
will hardly think it unreasonably flippant to answer, "God knows."

There was something already suggested about the steep scenery
through which I went as I thought about these things; a sense
of silent catastrophe and fundamental cleavage in the deep
division of the cliffs and crags. They were all the more
profoundly moving, because my sense of them was almost as
subconscious as the subconsciousness about which I was reflecting.
I had fallen again into the old habit of forgetting where I was going,
and seeing things with one eye off, in a blind abstraction.
I awoke from a sort of trance of absentmindedness in a landscape
that might well awaken anybody. It might awaken a man sleepin