William F. Buckley (1925-2008)

In the middle of the twentieth century, freedom-lovers in America found their hope on the verge of extinction. The modernist malaise threatened to sweep away the freedom of individuals, families, businesses, and the Church in its murky gray tide. The editors of National Review called this "the inexorable collectivist tide." When William F. Buckley launched the National Review in 1955 at age 29, he said that he hoped to "stand athwart history, yelling 'stop'!" Many had gotten lost in the modern utopian dream without questioning the premises it stood upon or the means with which it was trying to reach its idyllic end.

The conservative political ideology, though claiming the mantle of tradition, is relatively young. Early in the twentieth century, political philosophers like Russell Kirk and Frank Meyer, as well as German economists Ludwig Von Mises and F.A. Hayek, ushered in the intellectual seeds of which the conservative ideology would grow. These men represented the philosophical wave. Later, economist Milton Friedman and William F. Buckley made compelling public cases for the conservative ideology. They were the leaders of the popular wave. Finally, after Barry Goldwater's earlier loss in the race for President, Ronald Reagan swept into office in 1980. This marked the beginning of the successful political wave, also represented in the "Contract with America" in 1994 and the subsequent takeover of Congress by Republicans.

But of all these men, a compelling case could be made for Buckley as the most pivotal figure. He took the theories to the press, and using his incredible intellect and wit, used the press to tailor public opinion and usher in the conservative political age. The evils of socialism and its tyranny over all natural freedoms endowed to man, family, and Church has been delayed from its "inevitable" triumph over the American "experiment". If in the coming decades an overbearing government becomes the caretaker of human hearts and souls, it will do so only because the brilliant Buckley is no longer able to "stand athwart history." If Americans are wise and grateful for their freedoms, they will gladly make his legacy their continuing cause.

Doctrine Divides?

One of the most delightful of slogans to proclaim as a hip, young Christian is that "doctrine divides." If only individual denominations stopped being so nit-picky on matters of doctrine, then the consequent unity would streamline the power of the Church in the world and enable the Kingdom of God to really start growing!

The power of the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution on the American mind is incredible. It is from these documents that American governance is maintained and a degree of identity is gained. "We hold these truths to be self-evident" initiated the document that brought vitality to this once-subjugated colony. In a treatise describing the perceived nature of humanity and human governance, life was brought to a new nation. Even so, that life lacked governance. Thus, the U.S. Constitution provided the rule by which Americans were to live. They united and continue to unite under its proclamations, and even moderate attempts to amend it are often squashed. The life of America is found in her Declaration of Independence, and her unity and identity is found in her Constitution.

Is there perhaps some indirect correlation between these documents with much more ancient ones? In no way was America ever a Christian nation, but did she draw her inspiration for cohesive documents from the ancient models of Holy Scripture and the creeds and confessions. It is these documents, the former God-breathed and the latter the expression of collective Church wisdom, that Christians find their unity and identity. In the Bible, one finds life in the very Word of God. The Bible, in all of its doctrines, brings to life and animates the people of God is the most fundamental sense. Upon this foundation, the creeds and confessions of the Church emphatically declare their allegiance with one voice, and thus the Church is given a systematized rule of law derived from Scripture.

Drawing this all together, those who seek to undermine the doctrinal core of Christianity are really emptying Christianity of its content and eroding the foundation of the people they hope to unite and equip. They are merely trading one unity--that of a house upon a solid foundation, for another--that of an amorphous blob with no support, identity, or direction. It is from God's Word primarily, and the Church's collected reflection secondarily, that the people of God are truly the people of God. Why do Americans understand this principle so much better than Christians? Perhaps common grace is much more palatable than the grace which offers true hope, even to many Christians.

Black Coffee and Pain

On most mornings, I like my coffee black. And pain...I like pain. When I drink alcohol, I opt for shots rather than mixed drinks or beer because I'd rather down my poison in one manly gulp than reflect between dainty sips on why masculinity as so often associated with the disgusting and distasteful. I often get mad at men who call fouls when playing a sport, because they seem like weenies to me. If one feels like he got hit too hard on the last play, he'll have the opportunity to dish it out in return sooner or later.

These are not objective observations, hence the first-person narratival format. They do provide a keen insight into my own mind, and perhaps the mind of others as well. I am sick of the mundane; the normal; the mediocre. Yet somehow I am still Reformed. Yes...the same worldview that believes God's primary means of grace to be those "ordinary" elements of the Word and sacraments and somehow attracts an inordinate number of spectacle-clad nerds...that is the worldview of this edgy extremist.

The world often bores me, so I turn it into an adventure. Power and pleasure make for hollow pursuits, and only the understanding of history offered in the Bible is compelling in the least. I must always be the hero in the final throes of life, and my damsel must exhibit distress per the stereotype. "Weird" and "quirky" become my two favorite (though bland) adjectives, as they innately describe those things and people that are set apart in my estimation.

ADD overtakes me at every turn--in the classroom, church, and conversation. Even when the subject matter in these things is compelling, I always simultaneously partake of the experience and scan the horizon for some grand overarching metanarrative that imbues life and individual experiences with greater meaning. My favorite mental term growing up was "suddenly," and I would attach that term to my inner-monologue throughout the day--most days--so as to make that next step more exciting.

And now I have the most wonderful of jobs and the most wonderful of ladies. My job is the ministry of the Word--where I get to speak on God's behalf to His people every Sunday. God divinely opens and closes hearts through my humble messengering, and that thought is invigorating. When a church drop-out dropped-in to my event this past Friday night, I cornered him and told him that I would always be accessible to him, though he was complete stranger. He was at church this morning. I like people who view church as something more than a routine.

My girlfriend--here called "L"--is the most wonderfully-weird person I know. She is additionally wonderful to accept my bizarre adjective with the positive connotations with which it is infused. She is a mystery that the mind cannot fully comprehend--a sillouette in the lighted doorway. She makes conversation an extraordinary experience, for her quirkiness fills out that empty space often residing alongside the normal, dreary activities of life.

The two greatest things I know--the power of God in His Word and the power of love--are such because they fill out the empty space. In each (though the latter is certainly subordinate to the former), words have power and meaning. Abstractions and ideals are personified. Each provides its own backdrop to the primary storyline at the forefront. Both project the human heart beyond the plane of normalcy to that of progressive revelation (to borrow a friend's recent term)--one as a window into the Divine plan and the other as a mirror. They suggest that there is more to life then the bland and boring--and much more than that offered even by black coffee and pain.

The World's Longest (but Helpful) Post

God and Human Knowledge--Stephen Roberts

An Essay Prepared for Josophat Mwale Theological Institute, Based on a Lecture Given on 20-06-07


Why should we talk about human knowledge in relation to theology? Is not human knowledge more of a philosophical concept? Yes it is, and that is why we must speak of it. In a certain sense, philosophy precedes theology. First of all, when we speak of God, we do not speak as mindless beings who merely create our own reality. We speak as those who are confident in their ability to make a claim about truth. Second, we must know why we believe what we believe. Thus, we are told in 1 Peter 3:15 “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” If we don’t establish why we believe something, no one will really care what it is that we believe.
These initial comments may still seem a bit abstract, so we shall talk about it on a more practical level. Let us examine these three statements:

I think that Jesus Christ is Lord.
I feel that Jesus Christ is Lord.
Jesus Christ is Lord.

Which of these three statements do you find to be the most compelling? In other words, if you were a non-Christian and somebody came to you to share the Gospel, which one of these statements would you find most effective? We would all agree that the final statement is the best, for it demonstrates a certainty in the heart of the person who shares such a statement. It isn’t presented as a matter of opinion, but of truth.
When I was in Malawi last summer, I had the opportunity to share the Gospel with some families in the small village of Dzuwa, north of Lilongwe. At one home, my friend asked a family if they any hope of heaven after death, and the wife immediately responded, “No, because I am a sinner.” By God’s grace, this family all came to a saving faith in Jesus Christ that day. Notice that this woman did not say “I think” or “I feel” with regard to her sin, but “I am a sinner.” It was much easier for us to share a certain hope to one who had a certain conviction of sin. Do you see why it is important to know why you believe what you believe? If you don’t know why—your faith has no foundation or claim to truth.
If the importance of this discussion as not been made clear yet, let me put it in the strongest terms: If you present the Gospel as something that you think to be logical, or feel to meaningful, you may win converts—but not to Christianity. You are only calling them to believe something as logical or meaningful, not something that is true. The problem today is that many people share the hope that they have, but not the reason for that hope as 1 Peter 3:15 calls us to do. What is the reason for our hope, and how are we able to share that reason?
Let us look first at two terms that might seem a bit intimidating, but will quickly become understandable: archetypal and ectypal knowledge. Does that first word bear a resemblance to any words you know? How about the term architect? An architect is one who draws plans for how something is to be created. For every building that you see, you know that there first was a set of blueprints that outlined how the building was supposed to be built. With that in mind, when you think of an archetype, you should think of that original plan—the perfect model that is later copied. An ectype, on the other hand, is the copy of that plan. Likewise, when you speak of archetypal knowledge, you are speaking of the knowledge of the architect of this world: God. When you speak of ectypal knowledge, you are speaking of the knowledge of those created in image: man.
This understanding of knowledge leaves us with several problems that must be resolved. First, the ectypal knowledge given to man in Creation has become corrupted by sin. As a result, the only we can have as human beings is that which condemns us and leaves us without excuse (Rom. 1). Second, if we are left only with this corrupted knowledge, is it possible for us to know anything as true?
These questions have plagued man throughout history, and have evoked various responses from different philosophers. Perhaps the most important philosopher, and the one we shall discuss briefly here, is Plato. Plato believed there to be a ladder extending from the perfect form (God) and the copies (man). As the unity and spirit of this perfect form deteriorates into diversity and matter, it loses its beauty and purity. As you can see, Plato viewed a distinction between the archetype (God) and ectype (man), but he did not view the distinction as absolute. By that I mean that Plato did not believe God and man to be fundamentally different in essence, but only different by degree. The difference between God and man was qualitative, not quantitative.
As Christians, we thoroughly disagree with Plato’s model. Although God created us in His image, we can never be like God. This desire to be like God actually led to the first sin by our parents in the Garden of Eden. It was God who created man out of the dust; It was Satan who told created man that he could be like God. Instead, Christians maintain that there is an absolute distinction between the Creator and the creature. There is no ladder, but only an inseparable gulf.
From the time of Plato until now, most philosophers have used his ladder as the fundamental model for human knowledge. On the one hand, you had those who believed they could climb Plato’s ladder. For example, “realists” believed that human beings could climb Plato’s ladder and know reality absolutely. In later days, two types of realism emerged: rationalism and mysticism. Rationalists believed that the human intellect could conquer all knowledge and know things as God knows them. Mystics believed that through meditation, the human mind could ascend to God and see the truths that normally lay hidden. You are likely familiar with this latter group, as many here who engage in tribal witchcraft believe that they can gain access to the things of God through their substances and rituals.
On the other hand, you had those who believed in Plato’s ladder, but didn’t think it was possible to climb it. Many of these were called “nominalists”, and they believed that it was not possible to know reality beyond the names we give to things. In contrast to the realists, who believed that a human could know exactly what a “tree” is and everything about that tree, the nominalists believed that “tree” is only a name invented by man, and that there is nothing we can know of the reality of a tree. In other words, those who tried to climb Plato’s ladder through human history believed that man could have the same knowledge as God, while those who thought the ladder to be impossible to climb consequently thought that human beings could have no true knowledge.
This type of dilemma still confronts us all over the world in our day. In recent centuries, “modernism” has replaced realism as an attempt to know absolute truth. Modernists believe that truths can be proven without a doubt—for example, 1+1=2. Likewise, “postmodernism” has replaced nominalism as an attempt to destroy any possibility of knowing absolute truth. According to the postmodernist, all things we believe to be reality are simply matters of opinion. You may say the sky is blue, and I may say it is white, and neither of us is able to tell the other that he is wrong.
So where does Christian faith fit amongst these two opposing lines of thought? The modernist will ridicule your faith because he doesn’t believe that your faith can be proven. Of course, his standard for proof is in many ways a matter of opinion as well. The postmodernist will be largely apathetic about your faith. To him, your faith is simply a matter of opinion, and everybody has opinions, and all opinions are equally good, so why pay special attention to yours? In other words, who cares?
Both the modernist and postmodernist follow the thinking of a famous philosopher, Immanuel Kant, when they think about faith. In order to protect faith from the scrutiny of other philosophers, Kant created a special island of insanity where faith could live on its own terms without being subjected to the tests and rigors of science. As a result, the modernists considered their case closed because faith could not be proven, and later, postmodernists simply ignored the island of faith while creating their own islands of opinion.
We of course don’t subscribe to this fundamental distinction between faith and knowledge. Christian belief isn’t a mere matter of opinion, but a knowledge of something to be fact. Thus, when the inspired writers of God’s Word and of the historic creeds of the faith wrote “I believe” or “we believe”, they were not stating an opinion but an assertion of something they knew to be true.
So what exactly can Christians claim to be true? Let us use the Trinity as our example of a proper understanding of Christian knowledge. Are we able to completely explain the Trinity? Not at all! We do not have archetypal knowledge—we cannot explain what God is, or know His thoughts. As Romans 11:34 declares: “Who has known the mind of the Lord?”
In the same way, are we left without any knowledge of the Trinity whatsoever? Again—not at all. We are left merely left with ectypal knowledge; we are still able to make certain statements about the Trinity. Deuteronomy 29:29 tells us that the secret things belong to the Lord, but the revealed things belong to man. So we are left with these “revealed things” to give us knowledge, but what are these things exactly?
Let us give the answer through what Christians would describe as the Doctrine of Analogy. When we talk about an analogy, we are talking about something that is compared to something else in order to communicate a truth. When I tell you that a boy is like a man, I am telling you that a little boy bears some resemblance to a grown man, but is not exactly like that grown man. That should make perfect sense to all of us who have been both little boys at one time and grown men now.
In the same way, the Lord provides analogies to us in Scripture so that we may understand certain things as truth. When God inspired David in Psalm 23 to write “the Lord is my shepherd,” He was giving us an analogy so that we may understand something about Him. David was not saying that God walks around heaven in bare feet with a cane, but that God is like the shepherds we see in the way He cares for us. We are not able to understand how exactly God cares for us, so He tells us that it is like the shepherd we see in the fields (but certainly infinitely better!). In the same way, when the first epistle of John says that “God is love,” we understand that God in some way demonstrates love like we do, but does so perfectly whereas our love is flawed.
In conclusion, Christians can know truth, but not absolutely. Remember that “absolute truth” is not a Christian concept, but a modernist concept. We can never know things as God knows them, because we are not God. We must avoid that devilish temptation to claim that knowledge. At the same time, we are not left with the hopeless despair of those who can know nothing. In the whole of the Holy Bible, God speaks to man analogously so that we can understand something about God, ourselves, and grace. Calvin calls God’s Word “baby talk,” because God must reduce the majesty of His language in order that sinful minds may comprehend His Word. He must speak to us as a father speaks to his baby. Let us praise God for revealing Himself to us in His Word, so that we might know things with certainty—most importantly, the things that bring about our salvation from sin and death.



Helpful Resources:
Systematic Theology by Louis Berkhof
Reformed Dogmatics V.1: Prolegomena by Herman Bavinck
Christianity and Eschatology by Michael Horton
Lord and Servant by Michael Horton
The Gospel in a Pluralist Society by Leslie Newbigin
The Sovereign God by James Montgomery Boice
Institutes of Christian Religion by John Calvin
Westminster Confession of Faith; Heidelberg Catechism

TULIP

Adding a brief addendum to the previous post--Calvinism is the branch of Christianity which stresses God's sovereignty over all things, man's utter inability, and the ensuing need for the salvation which must necessarily be wholly provided by God. While most definitions of Calvinism are quite insufficient, the Canons of Dordt--a Dutch Confession of Faith--outlined five broad points of Calvinism with the acronym TULIP.

Before diving into the meaning of TULIP, it should be noted that like most points of Christian orthodoxy, TULIP came in response to the heretical views Jacobus Arminius, a Dutch theologian of the late 16th and early 17th century. His followers produced the "Great Remonstrance." (as shown below)

"The Great Remonstrance published in 1610 by the Arminian clergy codified Arminius's beliefs into five major points:
Rejection of the doctrine of election
Rejection of predestination
Rejection of the belief that Christ died for the elect alone
Rejection of the belief in irresistible grace
Assertion of the belief that saints could fall from grace."

(taken from http://www.wsu.edu/~campbelld/amlit/armin.htm)

Thus, the five points of TULIP found in the Canons of Dordt came in direct response to this assault upon the Gospel. The following is a brief introduction to the points of TULIP:

Total Depravity: Humanity is utterly sinful and incapable of anything meritorious in God's sight. Humans are fundamentally broken, and though the Image of God is not totally lost in any person, every part of man and his work is skewed and tainted. Thus, humanity is not only in need of help when it comes to eternal life, but must be revived from the dead.

Unconditional Election: Election refers to God's choosing of a people for Himself, and this is what God does when it comes to salvation. He elects (or predestines) certain people for salvation from the beginning of time. This is great news for Christians, who know the power of sin over an enslaved humanity, because it places salvation entirely in the hands of the only One with the power to bring life.

Limited Atonement: This is often the hardest point to swallow for Christians, though it is true nonetheless. Jesus Christ did not come for all people--He came for His people. He died for those whom God elected from the beginning of time to save (John 3:16--For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whosoever would believe in Him might have eternal life). Is it fair the God would create people without allowing them the opportunity for eternal life? (I used to struggle mightily with that question.) Yet what mercy it took to save some! It also is not like people theoretically lack the opportunity for salvation--the call of Christ is heard round the world. Many will never be given the faith that will overcome their obstinacy and rebellion, however. (For more on this, a coming post will be dedicated to the matter of reprobation.)

Irresistible Grace: While the call of Christ is heard 'round the world, the call is only effectual for some. By effectual, or irresistible, what is meant is that this call for those whom God has chosen is absolutely undeniable. One may resist with all of his or her might, but one cannot fight off the love lavished by God upon His people.

Perseverance of the Saints: When someone truly comes to saving faith in Christ by God's grace, they in no way will ever be able to relinquish that saving faith. As one youth pastor in southern California notes, with today's connotations pertaining to perseverance, preservation would be a better word to use. One is never able to fall away from grace. It is impossible. Christ is the author and perfecter of a Christian's salvation--what He has started, He will finish.

So if God is entirely in control of salvation as with all other things, where does this leave the Christian in his or her impetus to share the Gospel? That question must wait until another post, but until then, remember another product of the Dutch Confessions: guilt-->grace-->gratitude.

What Does it Mean to be "Reformed?"

George Marsden, a historian of the highest rank, wrote an article entitled "Reformed and American" which sought to define "Reformed" in historical context. In that article, "Reformed" was used to describe three movements (which often overlap): doctrinalistic, pietistic, and culturalistic. While such historical studies can be quite helpful, they fail in two regards: 1) historical trends tend to describe terms much more effectively than they define them, and 2) the implication that a word can only be defined along such lines involves a certain degree of unwarranted cynicism.

The first point can be demonstrated quite easily by applying Marsden's standard to the term "Christianity." This term has meant very different things to different people spanning the globe and two thousand years of church history. The doctrinalist may think Christianity to be nothing more than a sophisticated worldview; the pietist, a moral way of life; the culturalist, a social program. Should any of these groups be considered a part of that unique redemptive religion known as Christianity? In the present day and age, there are many nominal "Christians" who label themselves as such because it is part of their culture. Should they be included in that definition of Christianity because they include themselves in the label?

Absolutely not. Christianity, according to the true Christian, is the one true religion revealed in God's Word which offers the one true hope in the one true Savior who in life and death opened the way of salvation for sinners. This definition would be considered static and objective by the true Christian. The term cannot be effectively applied to a State, culture, or way of life. To do so does violence to the meaning of the term.

The second point can be demonstrated on simple philosophical terms: If, a) a term or fact can have no objective meaning and b) can only be described in different ways by different people of different ages, then c) the way of cynical relativism and baseless skepticism is inevitable. J. Gresham Machen made this point in a different form over and over again against those adherents of Liberalism, who claimed the label of Christian, using the pragmatist argument that doctrine (facts) is merely an expression of each generation's experience. This wrong-headed logic has since extended beyond the bounds of the Church (where it did incredible damage) and spread its sickly cynicism to society-at-large. The appeal to experience is no real appeal at all.

Before this post gets bogged down in negative argumentation, a positive presentation of what Reformed means will be offered. To begin with, Reformed, as it originated in the Reformation, was used to describe the theology derived from Scripture, particularly espoused by John Calvin. This understanding of "Reformed theology" was soon cemented in the Dutch Confessions (Three Forms) and the non-continental Confessions (Westminster). Thus, three "C's" will be proferred in order to provide an accurate understanding of historical Reformed theology.

Calvinism. This primarily refers to the core beliefs of Reformed theology. One of the best expressions of Calvinism was the Reformation "solas" (Latin=only). Sola Scriptura holds that God's Word was the sole authority of the Christian for doctrine and life. Solus Christus holds that Christ is the sole mediator of salvation. Sola Gratia holds that God's grace alone can rescue sinners from death. Sola Fide holds that faith is the sole instrument through which salvation may be attained (as opposed to works in any part). Soli Deo Gloria holds that the glory of God is the sole motive and purpose of human life. These five solas stood opposed at every point to Roman Catholicism and Arminianism, both of which exalted man and denigrated God.

Confessional. Reformed theology is by nature Confessional, as the historic confessions best describe the system of doctrine contained in the Scriptures. It is not merely a belief in predestination or God's sovereignty, but an entire worldview under subjection to God's Word and the confessions that present Its truths systematically.

Covenantal. Finally, Reformed theology is inherently covenantal, in that it considers God's relationship with man to always be conducted through a covenant. Thus, throughout the Scriptures God lovingly binds Himself to His people, declaring "I will be your God and you will be my people." All truth of God is revealed and mediated to man through this covenantal relationship. The eternal binding of this Covenant of Grace is of course found in the perfect life and atoning death of Christ for God's elect.

In addition to all of this, Reformed theology does not claim to be one competitor among many or simply one interpretation of Scripture, but claims to be the proper and faithful understanding of Scripture. In an age in which any claim to exclusive truth is viewed as hostile and arrogant, such a claim comes under frequent attack. Yet, if one is truly gripped by profound truths of the Gospel as they come to light in Calvinism, the confessions, and the covenants, then one is thrusted into incredible awe, wonder, and humility. Out of those truths come the piety and desire to engage the culture that is spoken of by Marsden. As Machen once remarked, Christianity rightly-understood is the "religion of the broken-hearted."

The Delight of (a Certain Type of) Decadence

You might be considered old-fashioned if you assert that the most sexy clothing worn by the opposite sex is their winter garb. What do mittens, a stocking cap, and a scarf have to do with "sexy?" Old-fashioned fogies like yourself might retort that there is mystery in modesty, and that such mystery unlocks true beauty. How is that possible, especially for the physical beauty that depends so heavily upon sight? Well, a scrooge of clothing etiquette like yourself would reply that mystery opens the way for power, pursuit, and privilege.

In an age that virtually coerces the masses into sheer buttnakedism, an individual shows remarkable power in showing the ability to veil beauty and reveal it as one's discretion. The "right to choose" gains new meaning in this sense. The pursuit of women by men is a static feature of human relationships, but the extent of that pursuit will always be a variable. When a woman's top resembles a double-barreled water balloon launcher, about to be pulled back and let go, she makes the pursuit way too easy. As people guard their hearts and only allow their emotional vulnerability to slowly expand over time, so they must guard their bodies and only allow physical vulnerability to slowly expand over time. In prolonging the typical pursuit, romantic relationships gain a degree of privilege. The male, in his state of delayed gratification, comes to share in the female's respect for her own body and regains his own humanity in learning to care for the heart as well. The female, likewise, comes to appreciate the effort of a male to restrain his physical impulses for her sake. In keeping the proverbial princess in her tower, the male learns how to proceed with valor for the sake of his beloved and the female learns how to wait with patience for the sake of her beloved.

The power of mystery was largely lost in a 20th century modernist culture that devalued the human individual. Evil socialist impulses robbed people of their dignity and made them cogs in the societal machine. Conversely, the reigning capitalist paradigm, applied to human beings, made them as valuable as the social market dictated. Consequently, human beings were worth as much as their weight in butts, boobies, and ding dongs. In addition, the vacuous theories of Darwinism and social utilitarianism turned humans into animals and made them as valuable as the social and sexual "utilities" they offered.

Hence, the following description of certain women by Evelyn Waugh in his book The Loved One (from the 1940's) is incredibly refreshing:

"She was the standard product. A man could leave such a girl in a delicatessen shop in New York, fly three thousand miles and find her again in the cigar stall at San Francisco, just as he would find his favourite comic strip in the local paper; and she would croon the same words to him in moments of endearment and express the same views and preferences in moments of social discourse. She was convenient; but Dennis came of an earlier civilization with sharper needs. He sought the intangible, the veiled face in the fog, the silhouette at the lighted doorway, the secret graces of a body which hid itself under formal velvet. He did not covet the spoils of this rich continent, the sprawling limbs of the swimming-pool, the wide-open painted eyes and mouths under arc-lamps. But the girl who now entered was unique. Not indefinably; the appropriate distinguishing epithet leapt to Dennis's mind the moment he saw her: sole Eve in a bustling hygienic Eden, this girl was a decadent."