hose "false conceptions" which have so uniformly swamped
the "idea," and those "degraded types," into which all the various
principles of our nature have wheedled the "spiritual faculty."
Only listen to a brief specimen of the "by-path meadows" which
entice the poor soul from the direct course of its development,
and judge whether a communication from Heaven, if it were only to
the extent of a sign-post by the way-side, might not be of use!
First comes "awe." "But even in this early stage," says Mr. Newman,
"numberless deviations take place, and mark especially the rudest
Paganism. We may embrace them under the general name of Fetichism,
which here claims attention ...... But even in the midst of
enlightened science, and highly literate ages, errors fundamentally
identical with those of Fetichism may and do exist, and with the
very same results." (Soul, pp. 7, 10.) Then comes wonder: "But of
this likewise we find numerous degraded types in which the rising
religion is marred ...... Of this we have eminent instances in
the gods of Greece, and in the fairies of the German and Persian
tribes ...... Under the same head will be included the grotesque
devil-stories and other legends of the Middle Ages ...... Yet the
dreadful alternative of gross superstition is this, that the graver
view tends to cruel and horrible rites, while the fanciful and
sportive sucks out the life-blood of devout feeling." (Ibid. pp. 14-16.)
Then comes the sense of beauty: "This was strikingly illustrated in
Greek sculpture. A statue of exquisite beauty, representing some hero,
or an Apollo, because of its beauty, seemed to the Greeks a fit object
of worship ...... An opposite danger is often remarked to accompany
the use of all the fine arts as handmaids to religion; namely, that
the would-be worshipper is so absorbed in mere beauty as never to
rise into devotion." (Ibid. pp. 21, 23.) Then comes the sense of
order; but, alas! Atheism and Pantheism, and other "degrading types,"
may be begotten of it!

As I look at men thus tumbling into error along this wretched
causeway to heaven, I seem to be viewing Addison's bridge of human
life, with its broken arches, at each of which thousands are falling
through. This way to the "celestial city" ought to be called the
"Northwest Passage"; it has one, and only one, trait of your
Christian path: "there will be few that find it."

If, then, by the confession of these writers, the "false conceptions"
and the "