for Honolulu, where he spent six months and there finished "The Master of Ballantrae."

In December he wrote to Mr. Burlingame from "The Equator at sea": "My dear Mr. Burlingame: We are now about to rise, like whales from a long dive. Business-Will you be likely to have space in the magazine for a serial story, which should be ready, I believe, by April, at least, by autumn? It is called 'The Wrecker'; and in book form will appear as number one of South Sea Yarns by R. L. S. and Lloyd Osbourne."

This story was mostly written and finished at Vailima in the autumn of 1891.

He wrote to Mr. Burlingame: "My dear Mr. Burlingame-The time draws nigh, the mail is near due, and I snatch a moment of collapse so that you may have at least some sort of a scratch of a note along with the end of 'The Wrecker.' Hurray! Which I mean to go herewith."

During the publication of both the "Master" and "The Wrecker," serially in the magazine there was always anxiety over the possible miscarriage of an instalment in the mails or a break-down in health on the part of the author; but happily the manuscript managed to turn up, and when it arrived it was always a redletter day in the office.

In November, 1895, long before the Stevenson manuscripts and autographs had become so well known and valued in the auction-rooms, I gathered a number of things in a memorial exhibition of Stevensoniana that were shown in the Scribner bookstore, then at 153 Fifth Avenue.

Autograph-letters, and especially original manuscripts, always have a strong appeal, for in them we seem to get nearer to the author than in cold type they give an impression of the writer at work.

Stevenson's manuscripts in this exhibition revealed him in varying aspects.

One of the manuscripts was that delightful little essay on "The Manse," written for SCRIBNER'S MAGAZINE; others included one of his longest poems, "Tembinoka," also written for the magazine, an essay on "Treasure Island," which he called "My First Book," though his first book was the little green pamphlet entitled "The Pentland Rising"; "The South Sea Letters," in one of which he referred to himself by his Samoan name of

"Tusitala," writer of tales; and the "Ebb Tide," his last story. At the end of the latter was an expression of satisfaction over the finish of a task in the form of a rapidly scrawled flourish, that evidently said, that's that.

Among the little things was a quatrain, written not far from the end of his life, one of those things he liked to do on the spur of the moment for some particular friend who had asked him for his autograph:

"I know not why I want to please,
I know not if I may.

I only scribble at my ease
To pass the time away."

The Stevenson portraits in the exhibition were many, and began with his childhood. One that has always been a favorite was taken in Boston, showing him seated at a table in a velveteen jacket.

There were several that were made in Australia, in 1893, that were thought by his friends to be especially characteristic and the truest likenesses. They showed his face both in profile and full-face.

There was the photograph by his friend, Sir Percy Shelly, the crayon by Wyatt Eaton, and the famous "watermelon" sketch by his friend John W. Alexander. In spite of this designation, the artist had caught, with remarkable sympathy, something of the soul of the man; and, of course, a photograph of the beautiful St. Gaudens bust. There was, also, the muchdiscussed portrait by Sargent, made at Bournemouth in January, 1885, of which Stevenson said:

"O, Sargent has been and painted my portrait; a very nice fellow he is; and is supposed to have done well; it is a poetical but very chicken-boned figure-head as thus represented."

The things that attracted the most attention and inquiries in the exhibition, however, were the family scrap-books, in which were many unusual portraits and intimate glimpses of the home life, the people, and the island.

At the time of Stevenson's first appearance, the Scribner bookstore and the office of the magazine were at 743 Broadway, opposite Astor Place.

It was a mighty interesting place for a cub proof and Ms. reader, with a love of printer's ink in almost any form.

There were always interesting visitors. I recall especially the alert, quick-stepping, nervous little figure and voice of Paul Du Chaillu, the famous hunter of gorillas. Another great African was Henry M. Stanley, back from the heart of the black continent, and how well I remember the fine figure and strong, handsome, manly face of that prince of story-tellers, and later war correspondents, Richard Harding Davis, bringing in the manuscript of his first great short story "Gal

legher." But this has nothing to do with R. L. S., you will say. I shall always remember with a feeling of sentimental attachment the little dark corner in which I had my desk, hidden by a battered old Japanese screen.

The discovery of a new writer, the success of some particular feature of a number, the call of a noted author, was an event that made the hours shorter and the day brighter and filled us with new pride in our job.

EAN INGE has very truly said that "Organized Christianity is at present under a cloud. The churches have but little influence, and if they had more they would not know what to do with it. But the rationalistic assumption that the Christian religion is played out is quite out of date, and betrays a complete absence of the historical sense."

A common wail that we hear from press, platform, and pulpit wherever the church is discussed is the so-called curse of denominationalism. The waste in energy, money, and property due to overlapping is terrific, especially in rural communities. A most despairing picture can be drawn without much effort and facts that no man can deny can be readily submitted to substantiate the reality of conditions existing in many localities. That is all too true. There is no need to argue the matter from that angle.

On the other hand, a most outstanding feature of America's religion that has enabled America to progress by leaps and bounds is its denominationalism. The very nature of religion is conservative, due to its sacredness. Men cling to things that are sacred with a tenacity that is furious. Progress demands unending change. Readjustments are called for and must be made. What is true of

things is also true of ideas. A good portion of man's religion consists of ideas as well as ideals. Ideas cannot be changed in one realm without affecting ideas in other realms.

Organized Christianity is at present under a cloud because it has not had time as yet to adjust itself in the realm of ideas to a world of progress that is scientific. It is true that the churches have but little influence and it is a most fortunate situation. If the influence and the power of the churches had been unified and organized, the progress already made would have been next to impossible in a democratic country such as ours where the majority is supposed to rule.

The thing that has kept the churches from applying their power and influence has been denominationalism.

The potential power of the churches throughout our history has been enormous but unorganized. The result has been that they have spent their energy, wastefully it is true, in the regeneration of life rather than in the production and the perfection of an institution that would have assumed by the will of the majority the divine right to condemn and prohibit without reservation or mercy new ideas that are almost invariably born in the minority.

Let us assume as a fact that the churches of our country have had the potential power to do this latter thing, and that they have failed to do it is due

to denominationalism, infected with sectarianism, which has offset by far the probable achievements of an organized unified church.

The most disastrous thing that could exist in Kentucky, for example, and some other localities that could be mentioned, would be an organized united church in the State. The only thing that is saving Kentucky to-day from mediævalism is a divided Protestant Church. The people of Kentucky are religious. But happily for Kentucky the Baptists do not mix with other communions any better than oil mixes with water. The largest and most aggressive single Protestant communion in the State is perhaps the Baptists. But to the Baptists the communicants of other churches are as much the subjects for conversion as though they had never professed religion of any kind. That is a fortunate situation for Kentucky. It is fortunate for the reason that the point of view of the Baptist majority with reference to science, education, and progress is not alone peculiar to the Baptists, but it coincides with the majority of the people of other communions. The combined point of view of the people of all communions in Kentucky with reference to science, education, and progress, if it were unified and organized in one church communion, would undoubtedly force upon the State the Bible as an infallible and final authority in biology, geology, astronomy, physics, chemistry, hygiene, history, politics, government, art, philosophy, ethics, religions, and so on. As it is now, one cannot get a job teaching school in many an important centre of population, to say nothing of rural districts, without virtually declaring one's faith in the Bible as an infallible authority in every realm of human knowledge.

When it was reported in the press that a superintendent of schools in a city of over thirty thousand people took such a stand, that same press carried the announcement that the Presbyterian and Baptist churches had or would appoint committees to draft resolutions indorsing and congratulating the superintendent of schools on his position. That is a sample indicating the position of the churches. Isn't it providential that Southern Baptists and Presbyterians are not on speak

ing terms as religious communions? Yet in spite of a great deal that is written and published to the contrary, on the whole as individuals, the most reliable and dependable people in our towns and cities are Presbyterians, Baptists, and so on. These very same churches have produced in our towns and cities life that has been regenerated. Kentucky's only hope of salvation, so far as her social and material progress in this modern world is concerned, lies in her denominationalism that smacks of sectarianism. It is that that keeps the churches from putting up an organized united front against the scientific spirit to which we owe the bulk of our progress.

But the rationalistic assumption that the Christian religion is played out is quite out of date. It is the institution that propagates and preserves the Christian religion that is under the cloud. It is under a cloud because changes in religious ideas come much slower than in other realms. It is doubtful if the necessary changes in religious ideas that this modern world demands would ever come at all if the church were organized sufficiently to prevent any change in ideas. The church has not yet arrived in her growth and development where she knows how to use such power and influence.

The only prospective union of churches in America that has value in it is that union of souls who are free. Not until the religious people of America learn that truth is a relative thing will it ever be safe for them to unite. As long as truth is thought to be a static thing once and for all time delivered unto the saints, it is well for America that her religion is denominational. For when truth becomes sacred to a people, as the tenets of denominations are sacred to the people of each communion, and they have the power to preserve it and enforce it regardless of its relative value, there is no chance for progress except in the aftermath of revolution and bloodshed. In America we have escaped that sort of thing because the churches in our country have not been unified and organized sufficiently to use their potential power to force truth upon the people. The unification of sectarianism which infects all denominations more or less would be by

far a greater curse upon us than denominationalism itself with all its manifested shortcomings.

The only union that will bless mankind is unified Christianity. That is something that is not attained by direct pursuit through the amalgamation of church communions any more than happiness is attained through direct search for it. It is a thing that doesn't come by legislation, force, or compromise. The union of churches is not necessarily involved. In fact, the history of the church would indicate that the union of churches would retard unified Christianity.

There is now in our country a very marked trend toward unified Christianity that is wholesome and encouraging in spite of the much-deplored fact that, denominationally speaking, our churches reveal no indications of union except in rural and suburban communities where economic necessity has forced it.

The unification of Christianity that is manifesting itself in our American church life is that spirit in a great many of our churches that is denominational but not sectarian. It is particularly evidenced in the young people, especially high-school, college, and university bred people, who, as they move about from city to city seeking a permanent home, finally drift into a church. The church they choose in a large percentage of instances is not one of denominational choice, but one in which the scientific spirit prevails. It is a church that is Christian in spirit. It may be a Baptist, Methodist, or Presbyterian church. It doesn't make much difference just so long as the spirit in that church is Christian.

As a result of that sort of thing, there is growing up a spirit of good-will, love, and co-operation between these churches that is unifying in spite of their denominational differences. There is often a brotherliness and an understanding between them that is more Christian and genuine than that which used to be found existing between individual members of the individual churches represented in such a denominationally mixed group of Christians.

Not only that, but the membership of these churches often branded as liberal churches has an understanding and an

appreciation of each other that is natural and powerful not because of numbers or material resources, but because of the spirit and the character of the men and the women themselves, men and women who are now and who are becoming more and more the leaders in our communities. That is by far a more effective union than any forced, legislated organic union could ever hope to be.

The hope of unified Christianity lies in the youth of to-day who clamor for an education, and to whom the denominational sectarian school makes no appeal. Our church colleges recognize that fact and advertise themselves as interdencminational. The youth of to-day is not interested in Presbyterian biology, Baptist geology, and Methodist astronomy. He is not concerned about such matters from a denominational sectarian point of view, but that doesn't mean that he is unconcerned about such things from a religious point of view. He comes to believe in a world of law, order, and unity, and loses his faith in a whimsical, fickle, and sectarian God.

His religion is the truth that makes him free to seek the truth, and that which has made him free he transfers to the realm of human relationships, more often called the spiritual realm, in which there is a God whom he believes to be a God of law, order, and unity, the same God that he trusts in biology, physics, and chemistry.

What is the result? He trusts men, even though he disagrees with them. He believes in them. He never forgets that there is a possibility that he may be wrong. He co-operates and organizes in search for truth, and accomplishes the seemingly impossible. He does it through faith in his fellows rather than through coercive legislative limitations placed upon them. That is nothing more nor less than the Christian religion at work.

It is a religion of the Christ who staked his destiny in man's possibilities. It is a religion of the normal, natural, and powerful union of kindred souls whose kinship is due to the mutual possession of the scientific spirit. But for the present and for a long time to come it will remain denominational, and providentially so, in order to keep it pure.