Painted Stoa, the seat of Stoic philosophy, and the Baσíλeos Σтoá (royal portico). That the market place covered the region indicated is made plain by reading the descriptions of Pausanias, who visited Athens about one hundred years after the apostle, in the light of the recent excavations.

Further, Paul would never voluntarily have forsaken the political 'Ayopá (market place), with its stoas erected for addresses

and discussions, for a spot so distant, inconvenient, and exposed as the hill Areopagus. That a great throng of curious citizens and metics surrounded him, burning to hear a dialectical encounter between the representatives of the old philosophies and the herald of the new faith, seems to be the implication of the parenthetical observation in the twenty-first verse. Neither at Philippi, nor at Corinth, nor at Ephesus, nor at Jerusalem was Paul remarkable for turning his back on the common people. It would be strange indeed for him to abandon those vast halls where for centuries the great problems of philosophy and

religion had been freely and publicly discussed, and where all could conveniently hear, to gratify a select few with esoteric explanations of his views, as is assumed by some commentators. He was not seeking to enjoy a glorious view of Hymettos and Salamis, but an occasion to impress the eternal certitudes of God and his worship, of man and his accountability. There is nothing, either, to show that Paul was regarded as under arrest and forced up steep streets to the rear of the Areopagus, whence is the only ascent to its summit. There was no accusation, no plaintiff, no trial. He went out from their midst without hindrance from the mocking crowd, instead of escaping down the narrow steps of the Areopagus (the hill).

Finally, it is almost certain that the court of Areopagus did not in Paul's time meet on the hill Areopagus. In the early days of Athens the council of Areopagus had assembled by night on the hill of that name to consider charges of impiety. The rocky hill bore a distinct relation to the early city, yet embraced within the narrow limits of the Acropolis. It was a place unhallowed outside the city sacred to the goddess Athena, and beyond the protection of her holy temples and altars. While the Athenians connected its name with legends about the dread war god (Ares), and built a temple for his cult near by, a better etymology makes it not the hill of Ares, but the hill of ȧpaí, "curses," from the imprecations pronounced there upon the impious and profane.* It seems to have had no temple. upon its summit in the time of Pausanias. Rough, barren, weatherworn, it contains no particle of soil to-day, and by its grimness yet suggests imprecations, and not philosophy. The entire hill, indeed, was devoted to deeds of punishment and rites of awful mystery. It is improbable that in Paul's time a stranger would have been admitted to its dread precincts. In Greek literature references are numerous to philosophic discussions in the stoas, but we read of no such gatherings upon the hill Areopagus.

The history of the court and council of Areopagus is involved in some obscurity. We know that its powers were defined and curtailed by the reform of Ephialtes (460 B. C.). We learn that the council of Areopagus met in the Βασίλειος Στου four hundred years before Paul's time.t The Greeks were so

* Eschylus, "Eumenides;" Harrison, Mythology and Monuments of Athens, p. 563. + Demosthenes in Aristogitona, 776.

given to preserving or inventing legends of remote historical origin for their institutions that the claims of this court to topographical connection with the hill are subject to reasonable suspicion. Granting, however, that the court did thus derive its name, it is mere commonplace to suggest that law and political terms long survive their original connection, as for instance "woolsack" and the numerous feudal terms still lingering in our law books. The court was styled "Areopagus rather as a matter of history and origin than to designate its place of actual session. There is little doubt that the Areopagus which Paul addressed was convened in some stoa; and there is no reason, either from the text, the literature, or the monuments of Athens, to claim that the apostle made his immortal address on Mars' Hill.

ART. IV. THE RELATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE AND FEELING IN SPIRITUALITY,

THE object of this article is to find out the relative importance in Christian experience of knowledge and feeling, in order that we may know to what extent each deserves attention and cultivation. The discussion may be vastly simplified by supposing the will element eliminated and allowing the query to stand in this form: Given a will in harmony with God, what are the relations to each other of knowledge and feeling in spirituality? This supposition is difficult because of the interaction of the will with the other faculties of the soul. In Christian experience the will is constantly influencing the thought and the feeling; and, vice versa, the thought and the feeling are constantly reacting upon the will. But in spite of this hindrance let will be posited as a constant quantity, and a Christian life assumed, so far as the will is concerned. Hence, in this discussion the term "knowing" will not refer to the activity of the intellectual faculty as holding fundamental Christian truths in question, to be convinced by them or not, but as cognizing them in faith. Nor will the term "knowl edge" refer to received truth in its effect upon the will before conversion, but upon the soul's spirituality after conversion in so far as that spirituality can be conceived of as affected by the thought and the feeling alone. The positing of a right will secures the moral conditions necessary to the knowledge in question. Having thus defined the limits of the theme, let us proceed to consider it.

In the first place, in ordinary psychical processes the thought about anything antedates the feeling about it. The emotions may not always respond, but they cannot become active without the preceding thought activity. More than this, knowl edge about anything is not simply antecedent to, but is in the main determinative of, the feeling about it. The feeling depends for its nature and intensity upon the knowledge presented or represented by the intellectual faculty. It is true that often the feelings react upon the intellect in determining judgment. It is too true that our estimates of things are often influenced by our feeling toward them. But this is an order

which common sense recognizes as inverted, and repudiates under the name of prejudice. Now let us apply this last proposition to knowledge and feeling as elements of spirituality. But in doing so we are passing from knowledge and feeling in relation to a single event to knowledge and feeling in relation to a whole body of truth. This, doubtless, is admissible. But we are also passing from knowledge and feeling in relation to a single event to knowledge and feeling in relation to a highly exalted state of the soul, in which there are divine as well as human elements. And we are abruptly brought up to the question, What is spirituality? To give what might be conceived to be a full definition would be to beg the general question before us. The divine elements, however, in spirituality, it may be suggested, must act through natural channels. God's presence in the human soul is not another department added to it, but operates as an exaltation of the faculties already present. Faith cannot be looked upon as a new faculty, but must be regarded as an old one greatly empowered and differently directed. It can be believed, therefore, that the laws governing ordinary feeling and thinking may be applied with fair exactness to spiritual feeling and thinking.

But, before the general proposition that knowledge of anything determines feeling about it can be applied to spirituality, the question must first be answered, What is the seat of spirituality? Let it be recalled here that a right will has been posited as a constant quantity. We are considering the spirituality of one whose heart is right with God, and hence are concerned only with the two elements of knowledge and feeling. Let it for the moment be supposed that spirituality is mainly a state of the feeling, a position widely held among Christian people. Therefore, if knowledge not only precedes but actually determines feeling, then, no matter whether spirituality is a state of pure feeling or a state of thought and feeling, it must be conceded that knowledge determines this state, and consequently that spirituality is primarily a matter of knowledge.

This is one of the positions to establish which is the aim of this article. Feeling is unimportant so far as attention and cultivation are concerned. It is not to be directly sought after. What is needed in the average Christian experience, next to upright living, more than anything else, is a clearer and deeper