been a long road from that sentence, written probably in the forties, to
the Symphony Orchestra in this Hall, and to the new singing classes on
the East Side of New York City.

For those of us who have attended to the outburst of novels and
treatises on humble or squalid life, to the copious discussions on
child-study, to the masses of slum literature, and to the numerous
writings on home economics, how true to-day seems the following sentence
written in 1837: "The literature of the poor, the feelings of the child,
the philosophy of the street, the meaning of household life are the
topics of the time."

* * * * *

I pass now to the last of the three topics which time permits me to
discuss,--Emerson's religion. In no field of thought was Emerson more
prophetic, more truly a prophet of coming states of human opinion, than
in religion. In the first place, he taught that religion is absolutely
natural,--not supernatural, but natural:--

"Out from the heart of Nature rolled
The burdens of the Bible old."

He believed that revelation is natural and continuous, and that in all
ages prophets are born. Those souls out of time proclaim truth, which
may be momentarily received with reverence, but is nevertheless quickly
dragged down into some savage interpretation which by and by a new
prophet will purge away. He believed that man is guided by the same
power that guides beast and flower. "The selfsame power that brought me
here brought you," he says to beautiful Rhodora. For him worship is the