ervention of prayer. Thus, the
grand historical evolution, which caused the Roman Empire to appear at
the close of the three great Eastern Empires, and that monument of
human genius itself to ultimately collapse and make way for the nations
which now constitute modern Europe, in no wise strikes Augustine, or
any orthodox teacher, even of to-day, as the outcome of purely natural
forces and influences--the action and reaction of powers wholly
human--but as part of a Divine scheme, which was foreordained for the
purpose of founding the Christian Church. This, in briefest outline,
is the famous argument of "The City of God," the first Christian
attempt at a philosophy of history. Everything mapped out by Divine
ordinance, and men moved like puppets to accomplish the scheme. Attila
the Hun appears at the gates of Rome, in the fifth century, and
threatens to sack it, and thereby delay the execution of the plan, and
prayer averts the disaster. In all moments of danger, threatened
catastrophe, public or private, the doctrine inculcated was recurrence
by prayer to the external Deity, who would so modify things by his
omnipotent power, as to reconcile the interests of all concerned. I do
not think it can be said that such a frame of mind is distinctive of
the Protestant of to-day, certainly not of the instructed Protestant,
who may acquiesce in the vicarious repetition of certain formulas by
his clergyman on Sunday morning, but would certainly not in practice
endorse the theory that Divine intervention might be called in at any
moment by prayer. But it is the attitude of the Roman and Greek
Churches, as it is of the Mohammedan religion, and doubtless of the
less educated in the sects of Nonconformity.

Now this conception of Divinity is Oriental, whence indeed our current
religion arose. It represents the Supreme Being as an aged man clothed
in flowing robes, his hair "white as wool," seated on a golden throne
and ceaselessly adored by myriads of voices who sing day and night,
Holy, Holy, Holy, or Hallelujah. It is the conception of a Divinity
who existed an eternity in the solitude of his own kingdom, amid
silences unbroken by any voice, who suddenly comes to the determination
to create worlds and man out of nothing, and orders men to pray and to
praise him. He is angry if they do not; he is "a jealous God," and
will punish those who offend him "to the fourth generation". He is
sorry he has made man and proceeds to de