mbers will be fed and housed and clothed. And art
and culture, of the most ennobling and inspiring sort, will surely
follow. And even if such literature failed as largely composes our
present _fin-de-siecle_ garbage-heap, we would not regret its
absence. That community will and must survive in which the largest
proportion of members make the accumulation of character their chief
and first aim. And to this community every rival must in time yield
its place and power, and all its acquisitions. And in every
advancing community the position of any class or profession will in
time be determined by its moral wealth.

But this moral wealth is intangible. The rewards and penalties of
moral law easily escape notice in our hasty and superficial study of
life. The God immanent in our environment often seems to hide
himself. The altar of Jehovah is fallen down, and Baal's temples are
crowded with loud-mouthed worshippers. The bribes of present
enjoyment and of immediate success loom up before us, and we doubt
if any other success is possible.

But the law of progress, even now so dimly discernible in
environment, is written in our minds in letters of fire. For we have
already seen that environment can be understood only by tracing its
effects in the development of life. What is best and highest in us
is the record of the working of what is best and highest in
environment. And the personal God so dimly seen in environment is
revealed in man's soul. Man must study himself, if he is to know
what environment requires of him. And if the knowledge of himself
and of the laws of his being is the highest knowledge, is not the
vision of, and struggle toward, higher attainments, not yet realized
and hence necessarily foreseen, the only mode of farther progress?
And what is this pursuit of, and devotion to, ideals not yet
realized and but dimly foreseen, if it is not Faith, "the substance
of things hoped for, and evidence of things not seen?" By it alone
can man "obtain a good report." Man must "walk by faith, not by
sight." "For the things which are seen are temporal, but the things
which are not seen are eternal."

CHAPTER VIII

MAN

In Kingsley's fascinating historical romance, Raphael Aben-Ezra says
to Hypatia, "Is it not possible that we have been so busy discussing
what the philosopher should be, that we have forgotten that he must
first of all be a man?" This truth we too often forget. No
statesman, philosopher, least of