e of his most popular books: _Modern Science and
Modern Thought_ (nineteenth thousand), _Problems of the Future_
(thirteenth thousand), _Human Origins_ (twelfth thousand), to which we
shall refer as M.S., P.F., H.O., in this essay; taking the
responsibility of all italics on ourselves, unless otherwise notified.

Mr. Laing is not regretfully forced into materialism by some mental
confusion or obscurity, but he revels in it, and invites all to taste
and see how gracious a philosophy it is. There is an ill-concealed
levity and coarseness in his handling of religious subjects which
breaks,

At seasons, through the gilded pale,

and which warns us from casting reasons before those who would but
trample them under foot. It is rather for the sake of those who read
such literature, imprudently perhaps, but with no sympathy, and yet find
their imagination perplexed and puzzled with a swarm of minute
sophistries and difficulties, collectively bewildering, though
contemptible singly, that we think it well to form some estimate of the
philosophical value of such works.

Nothing in our study of Mr. Laing surprised us more than to discover [1]
that he had lived for more than the Scriptural span of three-score and
ten years, a life of varied fortunes and many experiences. It seems to
us incredible that any man of even average thoughtfulness could, after
so many years, find life without God, without immortality, without
definite meaning or assignable goal, "worth living," and that "to be
born in a civilized country in the nineteenth century is a boon for
which a man can never be sufficiently thankful." [2] [Thankful to whom?
one might ask parenthetically.] In other words, he is a bland optimist,
and has nothing but vials of contempt to pour upon the pessimists, from
Ecclesiastes down to Carlyle. Pessimism, we are told confidentially, is
not an outcome of just reasoning on the miserable residue of hope which
materialism leaves to us, but of the indisposition "of those digestive
organs upon which the sensation of health and well-being so mainly
depends." "It is among such men, with cultivated intellects, sensitive
nerves, and bad digestion, that we find the prophets and disciples of
pessimism." [3] The inference is, that men of uncultivated intellects,
coarse nerves, and ostrich livers will coincide with Mr. Laing in his
sanguine view of the ruins of religion. The sorrowing dyspeptic asks in
despair: "Son of man, thinkest thou tha