possessed of such overweening self-confidence. The ancient Greeks looked upon a character of this kind as probably predestined by the gods to a tragic end; and the experience of mankind has, on the whole, tended to show that their presentiment in such cases was not without foundation. Courage we admire, fidelity to principle we admire, resolute statesmanship we admire; but the determination of one man to impose his will upon a nation resembles madness rather than the exercise of any noble quality. It is hard for us in America to conceive how such a dream could have entered the head of any presumably sane man.
It is worth while, perhaps, to take this opportunity of asking the question why it is thought so very necessary to make special provision by law for the teaching of theological doctrines. The question is just as pertinent in this country as in any other; for there are many here who think such provision should be made, and who, if they could command a majority of votes for the purpose, would quickly make it. Only one answer can be given, and that is that the feeling of the promoters of such legislation is, that unless the doctrines in which they are interested are arbitrarily and compulsorily taught, they will have no chance of obtaining a lodgment in the minds of the rising generation. Faith in the home as a center of religious teaching seems to have almost wholly died out, and faith in the Church to be nearly as low; consequently the state is asked to step in and take up the task of inculcating the cardinal doctrines of Christian theology. As we pointed out last month, however, the inability of the state to do anything of the kind is an accepted conclusion with nearly all intelligent observers of the events of the time, What we may now further point out is that, were the state to attempt it, its success would mean before long the intellectual and even religious atrophy of the nation. Imagine for one moment the success of Emperor William's attempt. In twenty or thirty years the great bulk of the adult population would have gone through the official theological mill. All intellects would have been bowed to the official explanation—unanswerable because official—of the being and attributes of God. All would have bowed to the official proofs of the immortality of the sonl. All would have accepted the official indorsement of ecclesiastical miracles, and the official interpretation of church history. All would have adjusted themselves to the principal historic creeds. No doubt some would have been brought up as Protestants, and some as Catholics; but as in each case the teaching was official, the effect would probably be to create a kind of imbecile readiness to admit as equally true the most contradictory positions. It is impossible, we maintain, for any person capable of reflection not to see that such a system of education would mean the death of all personal interest in, or apprehension of, the truths or doctrines inculcated. The being of God can not be proved in the same manner as the laws of chemistry; the latter admit of demonstrative proof, nobody asks for more than demonstration, and so long as demonstration is reached no one objects to the road by which it is reached; the former does not admit of demonstrative proof in the same sense, and everything depends upon the way in which such proofs as it does admit of are presented. Official teachers would, however, have to put forward their official proofs as demonstrative, and the effect would either be to deaden intellects or to turn out hypocrites by the thousand. The one and only guarantee for the vitality of theological beliefs is perfect freedom on the part of those who teach them and equal freedom on the part of those who learn them. Give to the individual intellect an infinite outlook upon the great problems of existence, and a reverential acceptance of
