denied admission to the secularized sisterhood. Science has come to mean simply physical science. Even metaphysics, which may be considered a cousin of theology, has been thrust outside the door, and has been sent out into the breezy open with a discredited reputation. The only science whose credentials are accepted is the science which brings returns from the physical universe. And those returns are not necessarily certified facts, which are placed beyond challenge, and which can be counted among the fixed and permanent furniture of our knowledge. They include explanations and hypotheses, which, unquestionably, are legitimate and valuable as working theories, but which are necessarily provisional, tentative, open to revision, and demand from their disciples, as the scientists themselves confess, large ventures of faith. It is evident, therefore, that the word "science," which means knowledge and which at the present day includes both proven facts and unproven theories, has undergone both a restriction and an expansion of meaning.

The same is true of theology. Literally it means the science of God. Of course, we can only think of God from the standpoint of human nature and within the limitations of human thought. The legitimate sphere of theology is God in His moral and spiritual relationship to man, and the circle of truths and duties which are involved in that relationship. In this restricted and scientific use of the word, theology is the basis of, if not identical with, religion; and the distinction between the two, which the late President of Cornell University has taken such pains to elucidate in his preface and several passages in his history, falls to the ground. In the passage quoted, he appears to give us a crayon sketch of religion after he has abstracted from it the obnoxious element of theology; but even in his attractive picture, we discern the theological bones underlying the contours and tints of the ethical flesh. At all events, if theology is simply the science of God, it has no concern with, and is beyond the reach of, the science which has taken for its province the physical universe. Between the two, there is no warfare, or possibility of warfare, simply because they lie in two diverse planes of thought and fact. St. Paul and Mr. Darwin are entitled each to his own point of view, and The Epistle to the Romans, published in the first century, has lost none of its interest or value since the publication of Origin of Species in the ninteenth century.

But the word "theology," like the word "science," has suffered an expansion of meaning which has exposed it to an embroilment with physical science, and which, in a measure, excuses the, strictly speaking, unscientific title of Mr. White's History of the Warfare. In a loose, popular way, whatever a man, or a group of men, happens or chooses to think about religion is called "theology." The primitive creeds of the Church, the writings of the early Fathers, the decisions of the ecumenical councils, the expositions of the medieval schoolmen, the ex-cathedra utterances of the popes, the modern confessions of faith, give, of course, a higher sanction to a specific theological opinion; but it is evident that a large percentage of theology, as commonly understood, has no claim on these eminent authorities. In this vague use of the word, the religious opinions of any respectable body of men in any period of the world's history, or the religious opinions of any man who chooses to utter his opinions from a platform or print them in a book, fairly may be called theology. And the opinions may travel long distances beyond the legitimate sphere of the divine science. They may make exhaustive excursions into the domains of astronomy, and geology, and biology; they may hang the fate of a religion upon the measurement of some human skull which survived the wreckage of the cave-period; yet they are to be considered theology, and under the alias of theology they are cited before the tribunals of science.

It is evident that Mr. White takes his "theology" in this large and generous interpretation. As we glance over his interesting pages, we find that it is not necessary to be a Bishop, or a believer in the Bible, or even an occasional attendant at the services of the church, in order to be a theologian. A surer title, a shorter and easier method, is to question some fact discovered or some theory projected by the progressive science of the period.

The point comes out in an amusing way in Mr. White's account of a contretemps in the literary ventures of Voltaire. We read:

"About the year 1760, news of the discovery of marine fossils in various elevated districts of Europe reached Voltaire. He, too, Lad a theologic system to support, though his system was opposed to that of the sacred books of the Hebrews; and, fearing that the new discoveries might be used to support the Mosaic accounts of the deluge, all his wisdom and wit were compacted into arguments to prove that the fossil fishes were the remains

of fish intended for food, but spoiled and thrown away by travelers; that the fossil shells were accidentally dropped by crusaders and pilgrims returning from the Holy Land; and that the fossil bones found between Paris and Etampes were parts of a skeleton belonging to the cabinet of some ancient philosopher. Through chapter after chapter Voltaire, obeying the supposed interests of his theology, fought desperately the growing results of the geologic investigations of his time."*

We conclude that the theologians, in their manifold discomfitures, have been in high scientific and literary company. Naturally, Mr. White calls the episode comical. "It shows," he says, "that the attempt to shape the deductions of science to meet the exigencies of dogma may mislead heterodoxy as absurdly as orthodoxy." His statement of the matter illustrates the modern expansion of the word "theology." It enables us to trace the promiscuous lineage of the visored knight who is so frequently unhorsed and laid sprawling in the sand on the pages of the entertaining History of the Warfare of Science with Theology.

In this connection Mr. White will excuse us if we express the regret that by the title and argument of his book-making such large appeal by the interest of its theme-he has lent his distinguished authority to this loose and vulgar use of the word "theology." It is hanging a millstone about its neck, which is unnecessary in the present attitude of the popular mind, and is not exactly in the interests of scientific thought. It must be confessed, however, that the word "orthodoxy" is subjected to the same treatment. Indeed, it is rather curious to note the bizarre materials from which the historian extracts the light by which we may study the hideous features of orthodoxy. The sculptures over cathedral doors, the emblazoned pictures on the windows, the gargoyles on the towers, medieval wood-cuts and banners, the mosaics of San Marco at Venice, the sounding verse of Milton, the pictorial phrases of modern hymnody, are all brought into court to prove the vicious character and habits of orthodoxy. They illustrate, we are told, the orthodox teachings. about God and the universe, which modern science has demolished. Heaven save the mark! What a picturesque orthodoxy we should have to-day if we borrowed it from the artists and the poets instead of from our good friends the scientists! It is only fair to say that Mr. White does not spare quotations from distinguished and obscure names, which represent neither the artistic,

"Hist. of Warfare," Vol. I., p. 229.

nor the poetic, nor the scientific guild; but we owe him thanks for his wide range of illustration which enables us to measure the amount of hay and sawdust within the sleek skin of the champion who has dared to cross lances in the arena with Science.

Such being the contestants, we hardly require two large volumes to give us the incidents of the conflict. From our knowledge of human nature, we could prognosticate fairly the general character of the incidents. Needless to say, the historian has given them with accuracy and frankness, and, despite the unfortunate and misleading use of terms which we have indicated, his care for truth and reverence for religion are conspicuous in his chronicle of the warfare. The exhaustless supplies of anecdotal history allure the reader over his eight hundred pages. The shifting scenes of the battle and the changing fronts of the armies in the field stimulate and sustain the interest. Unquestionably a highly passive and receptive reading of the volumes will leave the impression that the author has exhaustively proven his thesis that theology has fought the advance of science step by step; that it has discredited its methods, persecuted its champions, and has finished every battle by retiring from the field in disorder. But, if we mistake not, the judicious reader, whatever his concern for, or indifference to, theology, will modify this conclusion by the following considerations.

First. It is evident that the alleged conflict is simply a series of wayside-fights, involving points of no strategic importance and conducted chiefly by guerrilla forces. Indeed, the whole warfare is shamefully unofficial. Campaigns are begun and conducted with no formal declaration of war, and for the most part, accredited leaders on either side are conspicuously absent from the field. This, undoubtedly, accounts for the strange and notable circumstance that a short time after the issue of a battle has been decided, the discomfited army moves silently into the quarters 01 the victor and straightway forgets that there has been a battle.

As we read the History of the Warfare we are struck by this fact, the theological oppositions to science proceed invariably from current interpretations of what are supposed to be scientific references in the Holy Scriptures. The references are unrelated to the supreme motive of the Bible and the authoritative dogmas of the Church, and it fairly can be said that in

no century has the Church been responsible for the interpretations. The doctrines for which she is responsible she has enunciated in the great ecumenical creeds-the Apostles' and the Nicene. These creeds she recites as the defences and tests of her faith. Ecclesiastical schools of thought are answerable, of course, for their authorized confessions or statements of principles. Perhaps, in some minor points, these have been jeopardized by scientific discoveries and the expansions of modern thought; but by no authoritative act are the historic churches of Christendom committed to any theory of inspiration or method of interpretation which justifies the use of the Holy Scriptures as a barricade against the march of science. That certain phrases in the Bible have been interpreted by individuals in the Church to the disadvantage and hindrance of science is an unfortunate contribution to the history of human mistakes. The official doctrine of the Church is untouched by either the mistake or the correction.

Second. A review of the conflict furthermore discloses the fact that the forces are inextricably mixed and confused. On either side, we detect the banners and uniforms of the opposing camp. The thoroughness and frankness of Mr. White's recital furnish us with numerous instances where the exponents of science have opposed and the theologians espoused a new scientific fact or theory.

Three eminent names in the annals of science, Cuvier and Linnæus of the eighteenth century, and Agassiz in the present century, are on record as vigorous opponents of the theory of evolution. On the other hand, hints of the theory are found in the works of the three great theologians of the fourth century, St. Basil the Great, St. Gregory of Nyssa, and St. Augustine, who writes in his treatise on Genesis: "To suppose that God formed man from the dust with bodily hands is very childish. God neither formed man with bodily hands, nor did he breathe upon him with throat and lips." The doctrine of development or derivative creation was substantially suggested by St. Isidore of Seville in the seventh century, by Peter Lombard in his Theological Summary, by St. Thomas Aquinas in his monumental work of mediæval theology, and by Augustinus Eugubinas, who tells us that after the first creative energy had called forth land and water, light was made by the Almighty the instrument of all

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