lk. His
horizon did but widen when he rose, and enlarge as he moved. A great
event indeed, in one sense, was his first step, but only as a
beginning, not as the end. His true career was but then first entered
on. The enfranchisement of humanity in the last century, from mental
and physical absorption in working and scheming for the mere bodily
necessities, may be regarded as a species of second birth of the race,
without which its first birth to an existence that was but a burden
would forever have remained unjustified, but whereby it is now
abundantly vindicated. Since then, humanity has entered on a new phase
of spiritual development, an evolution of higher faculties, the very
existence of which in human nature our ancestors scarcely suspected. In
place of the dreary hopelessness of the nineteenth century, its
profound pessimism as to the future of humanity, the animating idea of
the present age is an enthusiastic conception of the opportunities of
our earthly existence, and the unbounded possibilities of human nature.
The betterment of mankind from generation to generation, physically,
mentally, morally, is recognized as the one great object supremely
worthy of effort and of sacrifice. We believe the race for the first
time to have entered on the realization of God's ideal of it, and each
generation must now be a step upward.

"Do you ask what we look for when unnumbered generations shall have
passed away? I answer, the way stretches far before us, but the end is
lost in light. For twofold is the return of man to God 'who is our
home,' the return of the individual by the way of death, and the return
of the race by the fulfillment of the evolution, when the divine secret
hidden in the germ shall be perfectly unfolded. With a tear for the
dark past, turn we then to the dazzling future, and, veiling our eyes,
press forward. The long and weary winter of the race is ended. Its
summer has begun. Humanity has burst the chrysalis. The heavens are
before it."

Chapter 27

I never could tell just why, but Sunday afternoon during my old life
had been a time when I was peculiarly subject to melancholy, when the
color unaccountably faded out of all the aspects of life, and
everything appeared pathetically uninteresting. The hours, which in
general were wont to bear me easily on their wings, lost the power of
flight, and toward the close of the day, drooping quite to earth, had
fairly to be dragged along by main strength.