trades-unionists as I did upon those of Frederic Harrison and the Positivists whom I heard the next Sunday in Newton Hall, as a manifestation of "loyalty to humanity" and an attempt to aid in its progress. I was enormously interested in the Positivists during these European
years; 1 imagined that their philosophical conception of man's religious
development might include all expressions of that for which so many
ages of men have struggled and aspired. I vaguely hoped for this universal comity when 1 stood in Stonehenge, on the Acropolis in
Athens, or in the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican. But never did I so
desire it as in the cathedrals of Winchester, Notre Dame, Amiens.
One winter's day 1 traveled from Munich to Ulm because I imagined
from what the art books said that the cathedral horded a medieval
statement of the Positivists' final synthesis, prefiguring their conception of a "Supreme Humanity."
In this 1 was not altogether disappointed. The religious history
carved on the choir stalls at Ulm contained Greek philosophers as well
as Hebrew prophets, and among the disciples and saints stood the discoverer of music and a builder of pagan temples. Even then I was startled, forgetting for the moment the religious revolutions of south
Germany, to catch sight of a window showing Luther as he affixed his
thesis on the door at Wittenberg, the picture shining clear in the midst
of the older glass of saint and symbol.
My smug notebook states that all this was an admission that "the
saints hut embodied fine action," and it proceeds at some length to set
forth my hope for a "cathedral of humanity," which should be "capacious enough to house a fellowship of common purpose," and which
should be "beautiful enough to persuade men to hold fast to the vision
of human solidarity." It is quite impossible for me to reproduce this
experience at Ulm unless I quote pages more from the notebook in
which I seem to have written half the night, in a fever of composition
cast in ill-digested phrases from Comte. It doubtless reflected also
something of the faith of the Old Catholics, a charming group of
whom I had recently met in Stuttgart, and the same mood is easily
traced in my early hopes for the Settlement that it should unite in the
fellowship of the deed those of widely differing religious beliefs.
The beginning of 1887 found our little party of three in very picturesque lodgings in Rome, and settled into a certain student's routine.
But my study of the Catacombs was brought to an abrupt end in a fort