Perhaps the most severe shock that has come to the mind of religious man from the teachings of science has been the at first almost unsupportable idea that man is the descendant of creatures of which the ape is to-day the nearest representative. He had learned from Genesis the altogether adorable conception that he was made in the image of his Maker. It lifted him; it strengthened him; it gave him more power to struggle. He might know that he had marred that likeness by wrong-doing, he might understand that the fullness of the glory of God's image could not shine through his own face. Yet he believed that he was, in spite of all his imperfections, made in the image of his Maker. Now comes this horrible linkage with a miserable brute to either shock and confound him or to degrade him. We can easily imagine, some of us have bitterly experienced, the shock of this changed conception. But it was only because we mistook the clothing for the truth in both cases. We read science in its own terms; we read Genesis in its own terms. They did not use the same language and they jarred us to the very soul. Slowly, however, we are coming out of the darkness of that battle; slowly the glorious light of the beautiful truth is breaking into our minds and our hearts. Michael Angelo painted a wonderful picture of "The Judgment." Here, seated upon a throne, which after all is only a magnificent chair, sits a venerable figure of what is really but a nobly-proportioned man, to whom the nations come for their final reward. He separates the righteous from those who must forever be sundered from their God. Seen through the distant past it still remains a majestic picture; but no painter would think of repeating its conception to-day. Quite in the modern spirit is the beautiful lunette which John Sargent placed in the Boston Library, above his well known frieze of "The Prophets." It represents "Jehovah confounding the gods of the nations." The naked figure of suppliant Israel stands before an altar of unhewn stones, on which burns the sacrifice. The smoke ascends to Heaven. On one side stands the mighty figure of Assyria with uplifted mace ready to strike its awful blow upon the shoulders of helpless Israel. On the other side the lithe, subtle form of Egypt, clasping the knout, watches its chance to bring its treacherous thong upon the helpless shoulders of suffering Israel. But Jehovah may not appear, man may not look on God and live. Jehovah is seen as a glory behind the cloud of smoke shrouded by winged cherubim. From one side of the cloud comes a mighty hand meeting with power the force of Assyria. From the other side, a lithe and sinewy hand thwarts the subtlety of Egypt. But Jehovah is behind the cloud.