nd will breathe its longings and its
griefs into the heart of a Being capable of understanding all its
necessities and sympathizing with all its woes.

I am jealous, yes, I own I am jealous of any word, spoken or written,
that would tend to impair that birthright of reverence which becomes for
so many in after years the basis of a deeper religious sentiment. And
yet, as I have said, I cannot and will not shut my eyes to the problems
which may seriously affect our modes of conceiving the eternal truths
on which, and by which, our souls must live. What a fearful time is this
into which we poor sensitive and timid creatures are born! I suppose the
life of every century has more or less special resemblance to that of
some particular Apostle. I cannot help thinking this century has Thomas
for its model. How do you suppose the other Apostles felt when that
experimental philosopher explored the wounds of the Being who to them
was divine with his inquisitive forefinger? In our time that finger has
multiplied itself into ten thousand thousand implements of research,
challenging all mysteries, weighing the world as in a balance, and
sifting through its prisms and spectroscopes the light that comes from
the throne of the Eternal.

Pity us, dear Lord, pity us! The peace in believing which belonged to
other ages is not for us. Again Thy wounds are opened that we may know
whether it is the blood of one like ourselves which flows from them, or
whether it is a Divinity that is bleeding for His creatures. Wilt Thou
not take the doubt of Thy children whom the time commands to try
all things in the place of the unquestioning faith of earlier and
simpler-hearted generations? We too have need of Thee. Thy martyrs in
other ages were cast into the flames, but no fire could touch their
immortal and indestructible faith. We sit in safety and in peace, so
far as these poor bodies are concerned; but our cherished beliefs, the
hopes, the trust that stayed the hearts of those we loved who have
gone before us, are cast into the fiery furnace of an age which is fast
turning to dross the certainties and the sanctities once prized as our
most precious inheritance. You will understand me, my dear sir, and
all my solicitudes and apprehensions. Had I never been assailed by the
questions that meet all thinking persons in our time, I might not have
thought so anxiously about the risk of perplexing others. I know as
well as you must that there are many arti