Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1910-06-06

does not need the wisdom of man in eX.
ecuting His plan for the world, He need,
his ignorance still less and in advisina
this young man. Timothy to make III,
acquaintance of great books he was
pointing out one of the secrets of his own
power Not only that but he was vote
ing a fact that only now is beginning I.
be understood one that will not he ac
cepted by the many unchallenged 1t is
this: Religion creates the great litera
ture of the people and this religion is in
turn dependent upon the literature it has
produced. This is the story read by man
in score of languages as he turns ovel
the records of many civilizations Baby.
Ian. Egypt, Greece, Rome-it is all the
same. The teachers of religion are. III.
writer's of books and what they taught
and what they wrote are the same. ont
Of the fulness of the heart come the
hopes, the fears, the aspirations. come
the thoughts that inspire the nations.
nervng their arms 70 battle, urging them
To patient endurance, lighting a CHEEKY
lamp in the dark night of sorrow and
speaking ever of God and fresh hope. for
the morrow. Then by means of the writ
ten page and Sculptured rock these i'm
mortal words SO hardly gained are pass
I'd ON 10 children and become the sacred
writing to which appeal is made in the
solemn business of living.
70 this procedure Christianity is no ey-
ception. He who insists that ours is a
religion that is exempt from the laws;
that govern the origin and evolution of
other faiths, has started upon a perilOuS
undertaking; one that will surely meet
with disaster. The reason is plain to see.
Religion being life-not a creed--is
never Il finished product, like a diamond
but a growing process like that of a
flower 1t is ever dependent upon new
forms. colors. words, concepts, ana il
finds these in growing literature The
great books Of Il people serve to express
the religious sentiments of that people.
givin" language to what would otherwise
be inarticuate. while religion in turn
breathes into THESE moids of thought the
breath Of the Divine and makes of them
living souls. This process must go on
forever Forbid it and you have on the
one hand. dead creed. a religion OF
empty ceremonies. on the other hand.
literature that may indeed be exquisite
in form but lifeless, dead as a statue
and blind as bust.
Now there are two kinds of literature.
IN" books of nation fall into two
groups. books of knowledge and books of
power. The first would contain mathe-
MATES, history. science, perhaps philos-
ophy; the second would contain all poetry
worthy that noble name. The first suf-
fers from the defect that it is not per-
manent. With the exception of matthr-
MATES, All books of knowledge are
speedily ontgrown. The life Of Il text
book is harly 10 years one may spend
his lifetime upon some department of hu-
man knowledge onl" to find that the ad-
vancing waves of thought have swallowed
mp his wisdom and that he must begin
all over again. This is not true of the
Poetry of the world. The wisdom of
Aristotle is all but forgotten, the poems
Of Homer and Sophocles are with us
still
Poetry is rather unpopular subject
with the many. The man on the street
does not care for it very much He
grows impatient. dismisses it with con
ltnptuouS wave of the hand and turns
to his newspaper. That in itself is the
condemnation of the age and the man
This is the spirit Of sordness in which
even religion cannot live, and is what
Wordsworth had in his mind when he
wrote:
THE world is too much with us; late
and soon
Getting and spending, we Law waste ON
powers
Little we see in Nature that's ours.
We have given our hearts away, a sor-
did boom"
The poet is not mere iuggler Of words
In proportion as he is true to his art
IS he the handler of the true realities OF
NE. His subjects are the vital ones of
every age. He is the leader of the life
OF his people and he sings to the ever
lasting heart OF humanity. Listen to
Tenny son:
THE POETS SONG"
The rain had fallen, the Poet arose,
He passed by the town and out of the
street,
a light wind blew from the gates of the
sun,
And waves of shadow went over the
wheat
And he sat him down in a lonely place
And chanted a melody Iond ana sweet
That made the Wild-sWan pause in her
cloud,
And the lark drop down at his feet.
The swallow stopt as he hunted the bee
under
The wild hawk stood with the down on
his beak.
And stared. with his foot on the prey.
And the nightingale thought I have sung
many songs.
f'Ilt never one so gay,
For he sings of what the world will be
When the years have died away"
So Tennyson summed up the poets art
The poet is the Interpreter OF those w.,
He gives us the value of the great reali-
ties: God-Duty Immortality
But it will be said: Does not the man
OF science and the philosopher teach
that? Why single out the poet and bid
us listen to his song? say. true: insofar
as either OF these men speak truth. he
tells us of the deep things of God The
poets supremacy lies III the manner in
which he handles. his materials. Let us
take the three men and hear what they
tell us about 50 important a matter as
the creation of the world, the most com
prehensive question that was ever asked
The scientist takes us back to the first
mist: he speaks about this rotating upon
an axis, the throwing off of vortex ring s.
the condensation of these rings into
planets and is satisfied We accent mi
If we can understand it-and then We
are told by other scientists that YOU can
not prove it. and there are grave doubts
about its truth. The philosopher starts
with the notion There is affirmation
which implies negation. for every W.
excludes no, and these are contradirtn-
~; then he carries us along among n
whole lot of rubbish ana we repeat the
operation in thought until we stand i'm
the presence of the Absolute and the
philosopher says: Creation is the Abso-
lutte going out of itself. the evolution of
itself. We read these words and breathe
a sigh of relief that the Absolute mas
again found itself-and wonder what il
all Means Now hear the poet in his
lofty song found in the 10th of Isaiah
and read his answer;
Lift up your eyes on high and behold
who hath created these things that
bringeth out their host by number: he
calleth them all by names by the great
ness of his might. for that he is sirony
in power not one faileth. Hast thou not
known that the everlasting God th.
Creator of the ends of the earth. faintett
not There you have it, The poet takas
the same thought that the thinker does
and under his hands it glows with heou.
ty and palpitates with life. and All IN
derstand him Even the children catch
it, Notice how they lisp in numbers
for the numbers come" DO Won ren,am
her Little Jack liornor and Humrsy