ave been, is, according to the theology of this particular bishop,
enough to secure admission to heaven. If, therefore, a power of
eternally choosing evil remains on the further side of the great
change, surely there is some hope that that power might not continue to
be exercised. But if not, what becomes of the whole fabric of popular
Protestant theology concerning the plan of salvation, the Judgment Day,
and the atoning merits of the Redeemer?

No, this kind of incoherent theologising will not do. No one really
believes it, and the churches will have to give up professing to
believe it. In our ordinary everyday concerns we take quite a
different view for granted all the time, the view that "Whatsoever a
man soweth that shall he also reap." The harvest may be long in
coming, but it comes at last. Neither do we choose our friends on
account of their chances of heaven or hell. We like or dislike a man
because he deserves to be liked or disliked, and not because he
believes something that will get him into heaven. Neither, thank God,
do we want to see even the wicked left to the consequences of their
wickedness; we want to see them helped to live differently, and it is
hardly probable that this impulse of our better humanity will change
after death. Love cannot be false to itself; in the presence of need
it must of necessity keep on giving itself until the need is satisfied
and the victory won.

But if popular theology concerning the last things is untrue, or at
least misleading and inadequate, what is the truth? Do we want a
different set of terms or not? I think not, but we want a different
perspective. These terms ought to be construed as states of the soul,
rather than as external conditions. Let me try to explain what I mean.

+The true Salvation.+--In the first place if sin is selfishness,
salvation must consist in ceasing to be selfish, that is, it represents
the victory of love in the human heart. This may be represented as the
uprising of the deeper self, the true man, the Christ man in the
experience of the penitent. We may even go so far as to say that this
can come about, and does come about, without any strongly marked
feelings of contrition or sudden change of attitude. Wherever you see
a man trying to do something for the common good, you see the uprising
of the spirit of Christ; what he is doing is a part of the Atonement.
In church or out of church, with or without a formal creed, this i