the other an expression of the instincts, practice, and
discoveries of the younger generations. In all the higher things of
the mind--in religion, in literature, in the moral emotions--it is the
hereditary spirit that still prevails, so much so that Mr. Bernard
Shaw finds that America is a hundred years behind the times. The truth
is that one-half of the American mind, that not occupied intensely in
practical affairs, has remained, I will not say high-and-dry, but
slightly becalmed; it has floated gently in the back-water, while,
alongside, in invention and industry and social organisation, the
other half of the mind was leaping down a sort of Niagara Rapids. This
division may be found symbolised in American architecture: a neat
reproduction of the colonial mansion--with some modern comforts
introduced surreptitiously--stands beside the sky-scraper. The
American Will inhabits the sky-scraper; the American Intellect
inhabits the colonial mansion. The one is the sphere of the American
man; the other, at least predominantly, of the American woman. The one
is all aggressive enterprise; the other is all genteel tradition.

Now, with your permission, I should like to analyse more fully how
this interesting situation has arisen, how it is qualified, and
whither it tends. And in the first place we should remember what,
precisely, that philosophy was which the first settlers brought with
them into the country. In strictness there was more than one; but we
may confine our attention to what I will call Calvinism, since it is
on this that the current academic philosophy has been grafted. I do
not mean exactly the Calvinism of Calvin, or even of Jonathan Edwards;
for in their systems there was much that was not pure philosophy, but
rather faith in the externals and history of revelation. Jewish and
Christian revelation was interpreted by these men, however, in the
spirit of a particular philosophy, which might have arisen under any
sky, and been associated with any other religion as well as with
Protestant Christianity. In fact, the philosophical principle of
Calvinism appears also in the Koran, in Spinoza, and in Cardinal
Newman; and persons with no very distinctive Christian belief, like
Carlyle or like Professor Royce, may be nevertheless, philosophically,
perfect Calvinists. Calvinism, taken in this sense, is an expression
of the agonised conscience. It is a view of the world which an
agonised conscience readily embraces, if it