[Wmi-devel-hu] of the danger th

[Stefania W. <to...@bi...>]

N's "What Is Man?", St. Augustine's Confessions, Haeckel's "The Riddle
of the Universe," and Huxley's Essays. How, indeed, could a thing be
dull that has sent hundreds of thousands of men--the very best and the
very worst of the race--to the gallows and the stake, and made and
broken dynasties, and inspired the greatest of human hopes and
enterprises, and embroiled whole continents in war? No, theology is not
a soporific. The reason it so often seems so is that its public
exposition has chiefly fallen, in these later days, into the hands of a
sect of intellectual castrati, who begin by mistaking it for a
sub-department of etiquette, and then proceed to anoint it with butter,
rose water and talcum powder. Whenever a first-rate intellect tac