Psychology of One Pantheist

A chubby, bustling, picturesque little man was elbowing his way into a metropolitan street car. He had a ruddy face, almost Irish in its appearance. Long white hair that came well down over his shoulders, was accentuated by a long flowing white beard and a broad-brimmed white hat. As he neared the center of the car a large and fat negress caught his eye. With upraised hands, and in a loud, clear, strong, confident voice she exclaimed: “Hail brother Mnason!” “All hail my beloved,” came back the cheery response from our patriarch, accompanied by a marked bow. Soon he found a seat near the front. Then came a vacancy beside him and he beckoned the colored woman to join him. Their animated countenances and lively conversation added to the amazement of the onlookers.

Many weeks later, in the course of my researches in religious psychology, I entered the meeting house of a negro church—“The Church of the Living God.” There near the door sat my long and white haired patriarch. His countenance had already become familiar to me from frequently seeing him at the public library. I went directly to him, and told him of my familiarity with his face and expressed my surprise at finding him there. Of course, I asked how it all happened. “Oh!” said he: “I belong here, maybe. It came to pass like this: I had been attending a religious meeting and had given my testimony for Truth and Right. Some of these people must have heard me. When I came out of that meeting I found myself surrounded by colored folk who hailed me as ‘brother’ and saluted me with holy kisses. They invited me to these meetings, saying that only here would I find the acknowledgment of the True Spirit, that I AM. I accepted their invitation and since then I have often been here.” But of course he thought that they still entertained many of the errors of the world, the flesh and the devil. They were not yet living the divine life, the life of true love, just as he was living it. But they were on the road to truth and ri