strides which theology has made of late years in the direction of elucidating that doctrine ought not to presume to discuss it at all.  No doubt, if the writer in question made any claim to be discussing the latest theological position on the subject of the Atonement, in a technical way, he would be a mere sciolist; but he is only claiming to discuss the Current conception of the Atonement; and, as far as I can judge, he states it fairly enough.  The truth is that the current conceptions of old theological doctrines tend to be very much what the original framers of those doctrines intended them to be.  All that later theologians can do, when the old doctrine is exploded, is to prove that the doctrine can be modified and held in some philosophical or metaphysical sense, which was certainly not in the least degree contemplated by the theologians who framed it; but they are quite unable to explain to the man in the street what the new form of the doctrine is; and their only chance of doing that is to substitute for an old and perfectly clear doctrine a new and perfectly clear doctrine.  The tone adopted by this critic reminds me of the tone adopted by Newman to his disciples.  Mark Pattison relates how on one occasion he advanced, in Newman’s presence, some liberal opinion, in the days when he was himself numbered among the Tractarians; and that Newman deposited, as was his wont, an icy “Very likely!” upon the statement; after which, Pattison says, you were expected to go into a corner and think over your sins.  Not so does thought make progress!

But the larger question is this.  What right have philosophers or theologians to arrogate to themselves the sole right of speculation in these matters?  If religion is a vital matter, and if all of us who have any thoughts at all about life and its issues are by necessity to a certain extent practical philosophers, why should we meekly surrender the stuff of speculation to technical disputants?  Of course, there are certain regions of experiment that must be left to specialists, and a scientist who devoted himself to embryology might justly complain of a man who aired views on the subject without adequate study.  But as far as life goes, any thoughtful and intelligent man who has lived and reflected is in a sense a specialist.  In life and conduct, in morality and religion, we are all of us making experiments all day long, whether we will or no; and it may be fairly said that a middle-aged man who has lived thoughtfully has given up far more time to his subject than the greatest scientist has devoted to his particular branch.  A church-goer, like myself, has been lectured once or twice a week on theology for as long as he can remember.  For years I have speculated, with deep curiosity, on problems of religion, on the object and ultimate issues of life and death.  Neither philosophers nor theologians have ever discovered a final solution which satisfies all the data.  The theologian, indeed, is encumbered