When asked what I meant by such a statement, I told her that the earth was inhabited only by children; that the average age of all living people was only about thirty-three years; and that they would scarcely get beyond the spanking period until their places would be taken by another set of babies; and that these new babies would scratch and bite, and be tempted to lie and steal just as all the babies before them had done; and that these in turn would soon give way to another set of babies. I told her that all the knowledge and character on earth would, in a few days, need to be transferred to the minds of babies not yet born, or it would entirely disappear from the earth. "Moreover," I said, "how do you know what Christianity has accomplished? You have never been where the Christians have gone? What do you suppose the Apostles and all the Christians who are nineteen hundred years old have been doing; and the multitudes who are eighteen hundred years old, and so on down through all the centuries? You have seen only a succession of kindergarten classes." Though progress on earth rests exclusively upon successive groups of children, yet we gladly recognize the social achievements that have been made during human history. We keenly realize also the sin we all share in not having produced better social conditions than now exist. Nevertheless, I am absolutely certain that no succession of infants will ever be able to put this universe to its highest possible uses. God will never get far with His great cosmic enterprise if He employs only ignorant little children; and that is clearly what He is doing if death ends all. What a pity and shame it would be to throw away such a universe; a universe of infinite intellectual, spiritual, and social possibilities. And what a crime it would be to destroy the intelligent beings who could turn the universe to full account if only they were allowed ample time. That God will not do anything so foolish and wicked we may safely rest assured. At the close of one of my services a man came forward and spoke to me, saying: "If everybody were good, your job would be done." "Now I must scrap with you," I said. "If all were good, I should have a larger and a better job. The good people, and not the bad people, have the greatest desire for Church. Why is the engine put on the track at all unless it is to go somewhere? For what purpose does anyone become a Christian, except to learn more about God and His plans in order that he may embody them in a kingdom of love and righteousness? I am too young and ignorant to preach you a very good sermon now, but if you will come around where I am a thousand years from now, I will preach you a sermon that will make you sit up and take notice." Something must be left out of the mental structure of one who can make such a statement as this man made to me. In the face of such conceptions of life one wonders that religion commands the respect that it does.