The same is true in the world of art and literature. The average man has an opinion of his own. He is no longer a parrot repeating what somebody else says. He not only has opinions, but he has the courage to express them. In literature the old models fail to satisfy him. He has the courage to say that Milton is tiresome--that Dante is prolix--that they deal with subjects having no human interest. He laughs at Young's "Night Thoughts" and Pollok's "Course of Time"--knowing that both are filled with hypocrisies and absurdities. He no longer falls upon his knees before the mechanical poetry of Mr. Pope. He chooses--and stands by his own opinion. I do not mean that he is entirely independent, but that he is going in that direction. The same is true of pictures. He prefers the modern to the old masters. He prefers Corot to Raphael. He gets more real pleasure from Millet and Troyon than from all the pictures of all the saints and donkeys of the Middle Ages. In other words, the days of authority are passing away. The same is true in music. The old no longer satisfies, and there is a breadth, color, wealth, in the new that makes the old poor and barren in comparison. To a far greater extent this advance, this individual independence, is seen in the religious world. The religion of our day--that is to say, the creeds--at the time they were made, were in perfect harmony with the knowledge, or rather with the ignorance, of man in all other departments of human inquiry. All orthodox creeds agreed with the sciences of their day--with the astronomy and geology and biology and political conceptions of the Middle Ages. These creeds were declared to be the absolute and eternal truth. They could not be changed without abandoning the claim that made them authority. The priests, through a kind of unconscious self-defence, clung to every word. They denied the truth of all discovery. They measured every assertion in every other department by their creeds. At last the facts against them became so numerous--their congregations became so intelligent--that it was necessary to give new meanings to the old words. The cruel was softened--the absurd was partially explained, and they kept these old words, although the original meanings had fallen out. They became empty purses, but they retained them still. Slowly but surely came the time when this course could not longer be pursued. The words must be thrown away--the creeds must be changed--they were no longer believed--only occasionally were they preached. The ministers became a little ashamed--they began to apologize. Apology is the prelude to retreat.