some way that no wise man is wise enough to explain, translated here in my mind into a thought; and straightway, where am I? I am with Homer, perhaps seeing the movement of those old heroes around the walls of Troy. I am in ancient Mexico, noting the cruel ceremonies with which they celebrated their worship of the sun-god. I am with Shakspere as he delineates the terrible tragedy of "Lear." I am in the hells, the purgatories, the heavens, of Dante. I am seeing the war in heaven that Milton depicts in his "Paradise Lost." I am tracing the pathway of human history, the long procession of kings that have defiled before the imagination of the historian as he resurrected the life of the past. All these wonder-worlds open to me merely by means of an arbitrary black line on a piece of white paper,- translated somehow into this wonder-world of thought as I sit, a man, reading.

I do not know of anything more mysterious than all this. Say, is it not true, what I have said to you a thousand times, that, if you live in a commonplace world, it is because you yourselves are commonplace? If you live in a world without poetry, it is because you yourselves have grown dull of hearing and dim of eye, and do not see the glory nor listen for the music. All that the past has thought, all that the world has done, is at our feet, ready for us, through this marvellous magic expressed in the simple fact of a man reading.

Now, what shall a man read, and why? I think a man ought to read, if for nothing else, merely for the sake of assuming his voluntary control over that which makes him a man. Have you time to read? This point I have discussed with you in the past more than once. The busiest man, if he be in health and have eyes, has time to read. We all of us know that we have time for the things that we really love, that we really desire. We either have time or we make time for the things that we will do.

For what, then, should a man read? In the first place, a man should read for the sake of general information. Gail Hamilton said some years ago, wittily and wisely, too, though

it appears superficial, that, if a man could not be well-read he could at least be well smattered, and that that was the next best thing. Some one else has said that every man ought to know all about some one thing, and a little about everything. Of course, it is apparent to the most superficial thought that in this busy, modern world, where so much is to be thought of and so much is to be done, we cannot even know all of any one thing. If any man claims to know all about any one thing, you may feel pretty sure that that claim is unfounded, that he is either mistaken or a conscious impostor. It is impossible for any man to know all about any one thing. But we should know as much as possible about some one thing,- that which we chiefly care for, that which we live for. And, then, we need to read in order that we may have a general knowledge of whatever is going on in the world. And this does not take very much time. Just conceive for a moment the wonder of this modern world in which we live on your breakfast table is placed, for two cents, a brief résumé of all that happened in the world yesterday, and perhaps up to twelve o'clock last night. All that happened, I say,— all that was special, all that was striking, all that was out of the ordinary, all that would particularly attract the attention of those whose business it is to gather the news. And here note, just in a phrase in passing, what I have also had occasion to tell you a great many times, but which we need to remember for the sake of keeping heart and hope in us. Remember that the accidents, and the crimes and the unusual and striking things are unusual and striking, and not common; that crime is not common, that insanity is not common, that evil of any kind is not common, in this sense that it becomes news. So, when we see the account of something that startles us and seems to indicate that the world is all wrong, let us take heart and hope rather because it is thus singled out for mention as news. If it were common, it it would not be news.

We need, then, to read for general information. But here let me say, friends, concerning this matter of the time

you have for these things, that most men who think they have no time for reading waste more time than would be required to become fair scholars over the daily newspapers. I read the daily papers; but I can tell in three minutes, and so can any ordinarily intelligent man, whether there is anything in the morning paper that requires more than a passing glance. Generally, there is not. But the paper is worth to me all that I pay for it several times over, merely to tell me that there is nothing of importance that I need to spend my time on. Read your paper, then, glance over it, find out what has happened in China or in Japan or in Hawaii or in Washington or wherever; and then put it one side, and have ever within your reach, if you have a few extra moments, something that is worthy your attention.

I speak in no slurring way of the newspapers. I do not believe there is a man that values them more highly. And the newspapers are generally as good as people want them to be. I should like to say just here that you have in your own hands the matter of determining as to whether the newspapers shall continually grow better or worse. The publisher of a newspaper is engaged in a business enterprise, not in a philanthropic affair. If you want an ideal newspaper, it must be subsidized. There must be a fund for its support, so that it can afford to publish the finest and best thing, whether the papers sell or not. I had a conversation some years ago with one of the leading and most successful editors in this State, now out of the editorial chair. He said: "I should be glad to publish finer and better things than I do, but my paper would not sell. If I should publish a new essay by Emerson that should be discovered, I should sell five hundred extra copies. I publish an account of some recent athletic contest, and I sell twenty-five thousand extra copies." It is you yourselves, then, that can lift the level of the newspaper, and make it a nobler and finer thing than it is.

But, when you have read in this cursory way to keep yourselves familiar with what is going on in the world, then a step beyond that. And here, friends, I come to something that I

regard as a fact of the very highest importance. I have had occasion to tell you more than once that most people have prejudices, most people have notions, most people have what they call opinions; but few people have what they have a right to call by the name of convictions. And yet consider what kind of world this is in which we have found ourselves as actors. We can read, from the far-off beginning thousands and thousands of years ago, by what slow and tentative steps humanity has climbed up to this present position. And the best part of our hope lies in the fact that we are as yet at the beginning,- that the things we call evil are to be outgrown and left behind. How are they to be outgrown and left behind? How have the evils that have been outgrown been left behind? It has been as the result of intelligent reading, intelligent study, intelligent thought, on the part of men of feeling and power. It has been because people have seen that every question, as it presents itself to the world, is a two-sided question,- that one side of it means the past, reaction, a lower thought, and that the other side means the future, progress, higher thought, a better condition for men.

Now take it, for example, concerning the industrial condi tion of the world, questions of sociology and government, questions of law, questions of religion. How many men. are there in this congregation to-day, how many women, who are where they are as the result of earnest thinking that has persuaded them that they ought to be where they are? How many of you, if suddenly called upon in your political views, in your industrial opinions, in your religious ideas, could really, in the words of the apostle, "give a reason for the hope that is in you,”—give an intelligent reason for the position you occupy? I trust there is a large number of those that I address who could stand this test; but take it in the city of Boston, the State of Massachusetts,- how many persons are there? I believe that every man ought to face this question, with this thought in mind. In religion,

example, one set of ideas means a forward movement

and an upward lift for mankind: the other means reaction, simply a remnant of the past not yet outgrown. Now, which one of these means the higher hope and the better future for the race? This is to be discovered by thought, by reading, by making yourselves familiar with the principles involved, with the past condition of man out of which the present condition of things has sprung. I think there is something grievously wrong here even with our Unitarian men and women. For every little while some one, who ought to have been trained in the modern thought of the world, merely as a matter of whim or fancy-because he has been pleased by a ritual, or because he has happened to be attracted by a man, or because he has been impressed by a bit of architecture, because he has fallen under the spell of what he thinks of as antiquity-goes back, commits himself to that which represents the past, and not the present and future of the world, showing that he has not been trained in his Unitarian home to have any convictions or to understand the reason for the position which he ought to occupy. These things mean more than matters of taste. I have no right to be influenced merely by a matter of taste, when a matter of principle, a matter of freedom and hope for man, is involved. And these questions, though we now have happily outgrown the era of persecution and suffering and death,—these questions involve the liberty that has been wrought out in the midst of fire and tears and anguish and death.

We ought, then, to read and study these matters until we know where we are, and why. And so take the question of the industrial condition of the world, the great battle that we have got to face very soon, the battle between some form of socialism and the order of the past. I am saying nothing for it is too large a subject even to enter upon — as to where the merits of this controversy will lie. I only indicate to you that we are on the threshold of a controversy that we cannot escape. Principles are involved, the future happiness and welfare of the world are at stake. It is our business, then, not to be dragged at the wheels of one movement