FOOTNOTES:

"The life of a Christian who has dedicated himself to the service of God should abound with eminent virtues of all kinds, that he may be really the same person which he is by outward appearance and profession. Indeed, he ought not only to be the same, but much more, in his inward disposition of soul; because he professes to serve a God who sees the inward parts, a searcher of the heart and reins, a God and Father of spirits: and therefore, since we are always in His sight, we should be exceedingly careful to avoid all impurity, all that may give offence to Him whose eyes cannot behold iniquity. We should, in a word, so far as mortal and frail nature can, imitate the blessed angels in all manner of holiness, since we, as well as they, are always in His presence. . . . And good men have always this notion of the thing. For they depend upon God for the success of all they do, even of their best and wisest undertakings."[68:10]

"The life of a Christian who has dedicated himself to the service of God should abound with eminent virtues of all kinds, that he may be really the same person which he is by outward appearance and profession. Indeed, he ought not only to be the same, but much more, in his inward disposition of soul; because he professes to serve a God who sees the inward parts, a searcher of the heart and reins, a God and Father of spirits: and therefore, since we are always in His sight, we should be exceedingly careful to avoid all impurity, all that may give offence to Him whose eyes cannot behold iniquity. We should, in a word, so far as mortal and frail nature can, imitate the blessed angels in all manner of holiness, since we, as well as they, are always in His presence. . . . And good men have always this notion of the thing. For they depend upon God for the success of all they do, even of their best and wisest undertakings."[68:10]

Such is to be the practical acknowledgment of God in the routine of life. The more direct response to this presence appears abundantly in St. Augustine's conversation and reminiscence with God.

"How evil have not my deeds been; or if not my deeds my words; or if not my words my will? But Thou, O Lord, art good and merciful, and Thy right hand had respect unto the profoundness of my death, and removed from the bottom of my heart that abyss of corruption. And this was the result, that I willed not to do what I willed, and willed to do what thou willedst. . . . How sweet did it suddenly become to me to be without the delights of trifles! And what at one time Ifeared to lose, it was now a joy to me to put away. For Thou didst cast them away from me, Thou true and highest sweetness. Thou didst cast them away, and instead of them didst enter in Thyself—sweeter than all pleasure, though not to flesh and blood; brighter than all light, but more veiled than all mysteries; more exalted than all honor, but not to the exalted in their own conceits. Now was my soul free from the gnawing cares of seeking and getting. . . . And I babbled unto Thee my brightness, my riches, and my health, the Lord my God."[69:11]

"How evil have not my deeds been; or if not my deeds my words; or if not my words my will? But Thou, O Lord, art good and merciful, and Thy right hand had respect unto the profoundness of my death, and removed from the bottom of my heart that abyss of corruption. And this was the result, that I willed not to do what I willed, and willed to do what thou willedst. . . . How sweet did it suddenly become to me to be without the delights of trifles! And what at one time Ifeared to lose, it was now a joy to me to put away. For Thou didst cast them away from me, Thou true and highest sweetness. Thou didst cast them away, and instead of them didst enter in Thyself—sweeter than all pleasure, though not to flesh and blood; brighter than all light, but more veiled than all mysteries; more exalted than all honor, but not to the exalted in their own conceits. Now was my soul free from the gnawing cares of seeking and getting. . . . And I babbled unto Thee my brightness, my riches, and my health, the Lord my God."[69:11]

In these two passages we meet with religious conduct and with the supreme religious experience, the direct worship of God. In each case the heart of the matter is an individual's indubitable conviction of the world's favorable concern for him. The deeper order of things constitutes the real and the profoundly congenial community in which he lives.

Typical Religious Phenomena: Conversion.

§22. Let us now apply this general account of the religious experience to certain typical religious phenomena:conversion;piety; and religiousinstruments,symbolisms,andmodes ofconveyance. Although recent study of the phenomenon ofconversionhas brought to light a considerable amount of interestingmaterial, there is some danger of misconceiving its importance. The psychology of conversion is primarily the psychology of crisis or radical alteration, rather than the psychology of religion. For the majority of religious men and women conversion is an insignificant event, and in very many cases it never occurs at all. Religion is more purely present where it is normal and monotonous. But this phenomenon is nevertheless highly significant in that religion and irreligion are placed in close juxtaposition, and the contribution of religion at its inception thereby emphasized. In general it is found that conversion takes place during the period of adolescence. But this is the time of the most sudden expansion of the environment of life; a time when there is the awakening consciousness of many a new presence. This is sometimes expressed by saying that it is a period of acute self-consciousness. Life is conscious of itself as over against its inheritance; the whole setting of life sweeps into view. Some solution of the life problem, some coming to terms with the universe, is the normal issue of it. Religious conversion signifies, then, that in this fundamental adjustment a man defines and accepts for his life a certain attitude on the part of the universe. Theexamples cited by the psychologists, as well as the generalizations which they derive, bear out this interpretation.

"General Booth, the founder of the Salvation Army, considers that the first vital step in saving outcasts consists in making them feel that some decent human being cares enough for them to take an interest in the question whether they are to rise or sink."[71:12]

"General Booth, the founder of the Salvation Army, considers that the first vital step in saving outcasts consists in making them feel that some decent human being cares enough for them to take an interest in the question whether they are to rise or sink."[71:12]

The new state is here one of courage and hope stimulated by the glow of friendly interest. The convert is no longer "out in the cold." He is told that the world wishes him well, and this is brought home to him through representations of the tenderness of Christ, and through the direct ministerings of those who mediate it. But somehow the convert must be persuaded to realize all this. He mustbelieveit before it can mean anything to him. He is therefore urged to pray—a proceeding that is at first ridiculous to him, since it involves taking for granted what he disbelieves. But therein lies the critical point. It is peculiar to the object in this case that it can exist only for one who already believes in it. The psychologists call this the element of "self-surrender." To be converted a man must somehow suffer hissurroundings to put into him a new heart, which may thereupon confirm its object. Such belief is tremendously tenacious because it so largely creates its own evidence. Once believe that "God, in the long run, means kindness by you," and you are likely to stand by it to the end—the more so in this case because the external evidence either way is to the average man so insufficient. Such a belief as this is inspired in the convert, not by reasoning, but by all the powers of suggestion that personality and social contagion can afford.

Piety.

§23. The psychologists describepietyas a sense of unity. One feels after reading their accounts that they are too abstract. For there are many kinds of unity, characteristic of widely varying moods and states. Any state of rapt attention is a state of unity, and this occurs in the most secular and humdrum moments of life. Nor does it help matters to say that in the case of religion this unity must have been preceded by a state of division; for we cannot properly characterize any state of mind in terms of another state unless the latter be retained in the former. And that which is characteristic of the religious sense of unity would seem to be just such an overcoming of difference. There is a recognition of two distinctattitudes, which may be more or less in sympathy with one another, but which are both present even in their fullest harmony. Were I to be taken out of myself so completely as to forget myself, I should inevitably lose that sense of sympathy from which arises the peculiar exultation of religious faith, a heightened experience of the same type with the freedom and spontaneity that I experience in the presence of those with whom I feel most in accord. The further graces and powers of religion readily submit to a similar description. My sense of positive sympathy expresses itself in an attitude of well-wishing; living in an atmosphere of kindness I instinctively endeavor to propagate it. My buoyancy is distinctly of that quality which to a lesser degree is due to any sense of social security; my power is that of one who works in an environment that reënforces him. I experience the objective or even cosmical character of my enterprises. They have a momentum which makes me their instrument rather than their perpetrator. A paradoxical relation between religion and morality has always interested observers of custom and history. Religion is apparently as capable of the most fiendish malevolence as of the most saintly gentleness. Fielding writes that,

"When religion is brought out or into daily life and used as a guide or a weapon in the world it has no effect either for good or evil. Its effect is simply in strengthening the heart, in blinding the eyes, in deafening the ears. It is an intensive force, an intoxicant. It doubles or trebles a man's powers. It is an impulsive force sending him headlong down the path of emotion, whether that path lead to glory or to infamy. It is a tremendous stimulant, that is all."[74:13]

"When religion is brought out or into daily life and used as a guide or a weapon in the world it has no effect either for good or evil. Its effect is simply in strengthening the heart, in blinding the eyes, in deafening the ears. It is an intensive force, an intoxicant. It doubles or trebles a man's powers. It is an impulsive force sending him headlong down the path of emotion, whether that path lead to glory or to infamy. It is a tremendous stimulant, that is all."[74:13]

Religion does not originate life purposes or define their meaning, but stimulates them by the same means that works in all corporate and social activity. To work with the universe is the most tremendous incentive that can appeal to the individual will. Hence in highly ethical religions the power for good exceeds that of any other social and spiritual agency. Such religion makes present, actual, and real, that good on the whole which the individual otherwise tends to distinguish from that which is good forhim. In daily life the morally valid and the practically urgent are commonly arrayed against one another; but the ethical religion makes the valid urgent.

Religious Instruments, Symbolism, and Modes of Conveyance.

§24. Theinstrumentsof religion are legion, and it is in order here only to mention certain prominent cases in which their selection would seem to have direct reference to the provocation and perpetuation ofsuch a sense of attitude as we have been describing. This is true in a general way of allsymbolism. There is no essential difference between the religious symbol and such symbols as serve to remind us of human relationships. In both cases the perceptual absence of will is compensated for by the presence of some object associated with that will. The function of this object is due to its power to revive and perpetuate a certain special social atmosphere. But the most important vehicle of religion has always been personality. It is, after all, to priests, prophets, and believers that religious cults have owed their long life. The traits that mark the prophet are both curious and sublime. He is most remarkable for the confidence with which he speaks for the universe. Whether it be due to lack of a sense of humor or to a profound conviction of truth, is indifferent to our purpose. The power of such men is undoubtedly in their suggestion of a force greater than they, whose designs they bring directly and socially to the attention of men. The prophet in his prophesying is indeed not altogether distinguished from God, and it is through the mediation of a directly perceptible human attitude that a divine attitude gets itself fixed in the imagination of the believer.What is true of the prophet is equally true of the preacher whose function it is not to represent God in his own person, but to depict him with his tongue. It is generally recognized that the preacher is neither a moralizer nor a theologian. But it is less perfectly understood that it is his function to suggest the presence of God. His proper language is that of the imagination, and the picture which he portrays is that of a reciprocal social relationship between man and the Supreme Master of the situation of life. He will not define God or prove God, but introduce Him and talk about Him. And at the same time the association of prayer and worship with his sermon, and the atmosphere created by the meeting together of a body of disciples, will act as the confirmation of his suggestions of such a living presence.

Theconveyanceof any single religious cult from generation to generation affords a signal illustration of the importance in religion of the recognition of attitude. Religions manage somehow to survive any amount of transformation of creed and ritual. It is not what is done, or what is thought, that identifies the faith of the first Christians with that of the last, but a certain reckoning with the disposition of God. The successivegenerations of Christians are introduced into the spiritual world of their fathers, with its furnishing of hopes and fears remaining substantially the same; and their Christianity consists in their continuing to live in it with only a slight and gradual renovation. To any given individual God is more or less completely represented by his elders in the faith in their exhortations and ministerings; and through them he fixes as the centre of his system an image of God his accuser or redeemer.

Historical Types of Religion. Primitive Religions.

§25. The complete verification of this interpretation of the religious experience would require the application of it to the different historical cults. In general the examination of such instances is entirely beyond the scope of this chapter; but a brief consideration may be given to those which seem to afford reasonable grounds for objection.

First, it may be said that inprimitive religions, notably in fetichism, tabooism, and totemism, there is no recognition of a cosmical unity. It is quite evident that there is no conception of a universe. But it is equally evident that the natural and historical environment in its generality has a very specific practical significance for the primitive believer. It is often said with truth that theseearliest religions are more profoundly pantheistic than polytheistic. Man recognizes an all-pervading interest that is capable of being directed to himself. The selection of a deity is not due to any special qualification for deification possessed by the individual object itself, but to the tacit presumption that, as Thales said, "all things are full of gods." The disposition of residual reality manifests to the believer no consistency or unity, but it is nevertheless the most constant object of his will. He lives in the midst of a capriciousness which he must appease if he is to establish himself at all.

Buddhism.

§26. Secondly, in the case ofBuddhismwe are said to meet with a religion that is essentially atheistic.

"Whether Buddhas arise, O priests, or whether Buddhas do not arise, it remains a fact and the fixed and necessary constitution of being, that all its constituents are transitory."[78:14]

"Whether Buddhas arise, O priests, or whether Buddhas do not arise, it remains a fact and the fixed and necessary constitution of being, that all its constituents are transitory."[78:14]

The secret of life lies in the application of this truth:

"O builder! I've discovered thee!This fabric thou shalt ne'er rebuild!Thy rafters all are broken now,And pointed roof demolished lies!This mind has demolition reached,And seen the last of all desire!"[78:15]

"O builder! I've discovered thee!This fabric thou shalt ne'er rebuild!Thy rafters all are broken now,And pointed roof demolished lies!This mind has demolition reached,And seen the last of all desire!"[78:15]

The case of Buddha himself and of the exponents of his purely esoteric doctrine, belong to the reflective type which will presently be given special consideration. But with the ordinary believer, even where an extraneous but almost inevitable polytheism is least in evidence, the religious experience consists in substantially the same elements that appear in theistic religions. The individual is here living appropriately to the ultimate nature of things, with the ceaseless periods of time in full view. That which is brought home to him is the illusoriness and hollowness of things when taken in the spirit of active endeavor. The only profound and abiding good is nothingness. While nature and society conspire to mock him, Nirvana invites him to its peace. The religious course of his life consists in the use of such means as can win him this end. From the stand-point of the universe he has the sympathy only of that wisdom whose essence is self-destruction. And this truth is mediated by the imagination of divine sympathy, for the Blessed One remains as the perpetual incarnation of his own blessedness.

Critical Religion.

§27. Finally there remains the consideration of the bearing of this interpretation upon the morerefined and disciplined religions. The religion of the critically enlightened man is less naive and credulous in its imagery. God tends to vanish into an ideal or a universal, into some object of theoretical definition. Here we are on that borderland where an assignment of individual cases can never be made with any certainty of correctness. We can generalize only by describing the conditions that such cases must fulfil if they are properly to be denominated religious. And there can be no question of the justice of deriving such a description from the reports of historical and institutional religions. An idealistic philosophy will, then, be a religion just in so far as it is rendered practically vivid by the imagination. Such imagination must create and sustain a social relationship. The question of the legitimacy of this imagination is another matter. It raises the issue concerning the judgment of truth implied in religion, and this is the topic of the next chapter. At any rate the religious experiencemay berealized by virtue of the metaphorical or poetical representation of a situation as one of intercommunication between persons, where reflective definition at the same time denies it. The human worshippermay supply the personality of God from himself, viewing himself as from the divine stand-point. But whatever faculty supplies this indispensable social quality of religion, he who defines God as the ultimate goodness or the ultimate truth, has certainly not yet worshipped Him. He begins to be religious only when such an ideal determines the atmosphere of his daily living; when he regards the immanence of such an ideal in nature and history as the object of his will; and when he responds to its presence in the spirit of his conduct and his contemplation.

[54:1]Cf. Caird:The Evolution of Religion, Lectures II, III.

[54:1]Cf. Caird:The Evolution of Religion, Lectures II, III.

[58:2]Cf. Leuba:Introduction to a Psychological Study of Religion,Monist, Vol. XI, p. 195.

[58:2]Cf. Leuba:Introduction to a Psychological Study of Religion,Monist, Vol. XI, p. 195.

[58:3]Cf. Leuba:Ibid.

[58:3]Cf. Leuba:Ibid.

[59:4]Cf. §29.

[59:4]Cf. §29.

[59:5]P. 322.

[59:5]P. 322.

[64:6]Rousseau:Confessions, Book IV, p. 125.

[64:6]Rousseau:Confessions, Book IV, p. 125.

[65:7]William James:The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 35. The italics are mine. I am in the present chapter under constant obligation to this wonderfully sympathetic and stimulating book.

[65:7]William James:The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 35. The italics are mine. I am in the present chapter under constant obligation to this wonderfully sympathetic and stimulating book.

[67:8]Chadwick:Theodore Parker, p. 18.

[67:8]Chadwick:Theodore Parker, p. 18.

[67:9]Stevenson:Letters, Vol. I, p. 229.

[67:9]Stevenson:Letters, Vol. I, p. 229.

[68:10]Thomas à Kempis:Imitation of Christ, Chap. XIX. Translation by Stanhope, p. 44.

[68:10]Thomas à Kempis:Imitation of Christ, Chap. XIX. Translation by Stanhope, p. 44.

[69:11]St. Augustine:Confessions, Book I, Chap. I. Translation in Schaff:Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Vol. I, p. 129.

[69:11]St. Augustine:Confessions, Book I, Chap. I. Translation in Schaff:Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Vol. I, p. 129.

[71:12]James:Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 203.

[71:12]James:Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 203.

[74:13]Fielding:op. cit., p. 152.

[74:13]Fielding:op. cit., p. 152.

[78:14]Warren:Buddhism in Translations, p. 14.

[78:14]Warren:Buddhism in Translations, p. 14.

[78:15]Ibid., p. 83.

[78:15]Ibid., p. 83.

Résumé of Psychology of Religion.

§28. It has been maintained that religion is closely analogous to one's belief in the disposition toward one's self of men or communities. In the case of religion this disposition is attributed to the more or less vaguely conceived residual environment that is recognized as lying outside of the more familiar natural and social relations. After the rise of science this residual environment tends to be conceived as a unity which is ultimate or fundamental, but for the religious consciousness it is more commonly regarded as a general source of influence practically worthy of consideration. Such a belief, like all belief, is vitally manifested, with such emphasis upon action, feeling, or intellection as temperament and mood may determine.

Religion Means to be True.

§29. But if the psychology of belief is the proper starting-point for a description of the religious experience, it is none the less suggestive of the fact that religion, justbecause itisbelief, is not wholly a matter for psychology. For religionmeans to be true, and thus submits itself to valuation as a case of knowledge. The psychological study of religion is misleading when accepted as a substitute for philosophical criticism. The religious man takes his religion not as a narcotic, but as an enlightenment. Its subjective worth is due at any rate in part to the supposition of its objective worth. As in any case of insight, that which warms the heart must have satisfied the mind. The religious experience purports to be the part of wisdom, and to afford only such happiness as increasing wisdom would confirm. And the charm of truth cannot survive its truthfulness. Hence, though religion may be described, it cannot be justified, from the stand-point of therapeutics. Were such the case it would be the real problem of religious leaders to find a drug capable of giving a constantly pleasant tone to their patient's experience.[83:1]There would be no difference between priests and physicians who make a specialty of nervous diseases, except that the former would aim at a more fundamental and perpetualsuggestion of serenity. Now no man wants to be even a blessed fool. He does not want to dwell constantly in a fictitious world, even if it be after his own heart. He may from the cynical point of view actually do so, but if he be religious he thinks it is reality, and is satisfied only in so far as he thinks so. He regards the man who has said in his heart that there is no God as the fool, and not because he may have to suffer for it, but because he is cognitively blind to the real nature of things. Piety, on the other hand, he regards as the standard experience, the most veracious life. Hence, it is not an accident that religion has had its creeds and its controversies, its wars with science and its appeals to philosophy. The history of these affairs shows that religion commonly fails to understand the scope of its own demand for truth; but they have issued from the deep conviction that one's religion is, implicitly, at least, in the field of truth; that there are theoretical judgments whose truth would justify or contradict it.

This general fact being admitted, there remains the task to which the present discussion addresses itself, that of defining the kind oftheoretical judgmentimplied in religion, and the relation to this central cognitive stem of its efflorescences of myth,theology, and ritual. It is impossible to separate the stem and the efflorescence, or to determine the precise spot at which destruction of the tissue would prove fatal to the plant, but it is possible to obtain some idea of the relative vitality of the parts.

Religion Means to be Practically True. God is a Disposition from which Consequences May Rationally be Expected.

§30. The difficulty of reaching a definite statement in this matter is due to the fact that the truth in which any religious experience centres is a practical and not a scientific truth. A practical truth does not commit itself to any single scientific statement, and can often survive the overthrow of that scientific statement in which at any given time it has found expression. In other words, an indefinite number of scientific truths are compatible with a single practical truth. An instance of this is the consistency with my expectation of the alternation of day and night, of either the Ptolemaic or Copernican formulation of the solar system. Now expectation that the sun will rise to-morrow is an excellent analogue of my religious belief. Celestial mechanics is as relevant to the one as metaphysics to the other. Neither is overthrown until a central practical judgment is discredited, and either could remain true througha very considerable alteration of logical definition; but neither is on this account exempt from theoretical responsibility. In so far as religion deliberately enters the field of science, and defines its formularies with the historical or metaphysical method, this difficulty does not, of course, exist. Grant that the years of Methuselah's life, or the precise place and manner of the temptation of Jesus, or the definition of Christ in the terms of the Athanasian Creed, are constitutive of Christianity, and the survival of that religion will be determined by the solution of ordinary problems of historical or metaphysical research. But the Christian will very properly claim that his religion is only externally and accidentally related to such propositions, since they are never or very rarely intended in his experience. As religious he is occupied with Christ as his saviour or with God as his protector and judge. The history of Jesus or the metaphysics of God essentially concern him only in so far as they may or may not invalidate this relationship. He cares only for the power and disposition of the divine, and these are affected by history and metaphysics only in so far as he has definitely put them to such proof.

For my religion is my sense of a practical situation,and only when that has been proved to be folly has my religion become untrue. My God is my practical faith, my plan of salvation. My religion is overthrown if I am convinced that I have misconceived the situation and mistaken what I should do to be saved. The conception of God is very simple practically, and very complex theoretically, a fact that confirms its practical genesis. My conception of God containsan idea of my own interests,an idea of the disposition of the universe toward my interests, andsome working plan for the reconciliation of these two terms. These three elements form a practical unity, but each is capable of emphasis, and a religion may be transformed through the modification of any one of them. It appears, then, as has always been somewhat vaguely recognized, that the truth of religion is ethical as well as metaphysical or scientific. My religion will be altered by a change in my conception of what constitutes my real interest, a change in my conception of the fundamental causes of reality, or a change in my conception of the manner in which my will may or may not affect these causes. God is neither an entity nor an ideal, but always a relation of entity to ideal:reality regarded from the stand-point of its favorableness or unfavorablenessto human life, and prescribing for the latter the propriety of a certain attitude.

Historical Examples of Religious Truth and Error. The Religion of Baal.

§31. The range of historical examples is limitless, but certain of these are especially calculated to emphasize the application of a criterion to religion. Such is the case with Elijah's encounter with the prophets of Baal, as narrated in the Old Testament.

"And Elijah came near unto all the people, and said, How long halt ye between two opinions? If Yahweh be God, follow him: but if Baal, then follow him. . . . And call ye on the name of your god, and I will call on the name of Yahweh: and the God that answereth by fire, let him be God. . . . And Elijah said unto the prophets of Baal, Choose you one bullock for yourselves, and dress it first; for ye are many; and call on the name of your god, but put no fire under. And they took the bullock which was given them, and they dressed it, and called on the name of Baal from morning even until noon, saying, O Baal, hear us. But there was no voice, nor any that answered. . . . And it came to pass at noon, that Elijah mocked them, and said, Cry aloud: for he is a god; either he is musing, or he is gone aside, or he is in a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth, and must be awaked. And they cried aloud, and cut themselves after their manner with knives and lances, till the blood gushed out upon them. . . . But there was neither voice, nor any to answer, nor any that regarded."[88:2]

"And Elijah came near unto all the people, and said, How long halt ye between two opinions? If Yahweh be God, follow him: but if Baal, then follow him. . . . And call ye on the name of your god, and I will call on the name of Yahweh: and the God that answereth by fire, let him be God. . . . And Elijah said unto the prophets of Baal, Choose you one bullock for yourselves, and dress it first; for ye are many; and call on the name of your god, but put no fire under. And they took the bullock which was given them, and they dressed it, and called on the name of Baal from morning even until noon, saying, O Baal, hear us. But there was no voice, nor any that answered. . . . And it came to pass at noon, that Elijah mocked them, and said, Cry aloud: for he is a god; either he is musing, or he is gone aside, or he is in a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth, and must be awaked. And they cried aloud, and cut themselves after their manner with knives and lances, till the blood gushed out upon them. . . . But there was neither voice, nor any to answer, nor any that regarded."[88:2]

The religion of the followers of Baal here consists in a belief in the practical virtue of a mode of address and form of ritual associated with the traditions and customs of a certain social group. The prophets of this cult agree to regard the experiment proposed by Elijah as a crucial test, and that which is disproved from its failure is a plan of action. These prophets relied upon the presence of a certain motivity, from which a definite response could be evoked by an appeal which they were peculiarly able to make; but though "they prophesied until the time of the offering of the evening oblation," there was none that regarded.

Greek Religion.

§32. An equally familiar and more instructive example is the refutation of the Greek national religion by Lucretius. The conception of life which Lucretius finds unwarranted is best depicted in Homer. There we hear of a society composed of gods and men. Though the gods, on the one hand, have their own history, their affairs are never sharply sundered from those of men, who, on the other hand, must constantly reckon with them, gauge their attitude, and seek their favor by paying tribute to their individual humors and preferences. In the Ninth Book ofthe "Iliad," Phœnix addresses himself to the recalcitrant Achilles as follows:

"It fits not one that movesThe hearts of all, to live unmov'd, and succor hates for loves.The Gods themselves are flexible; whose virtues, honors, pow'rs,Are more than thine, yet they will bend their breasts as we bend ours.Perfumes, benign devotions, savors of offerings burn'd,And holy rites, the engines are with which their hearts are turn'd,By men that pray to them."[90:3]

"It fits not one that movesThe hearts of all, to live unmov'd, and succor hates for loves.The Gods themselves are flexible; whose virtues, honors, pow'rs,Are more than thine, yet they will bend their breasts as we bend ours.Perfumes, benign devotions, savors of offerings burn'd,And holy rites, the engines are with which their hearts are turn'd,By men that pray to them."[90:3]

Here is a general recognition of that which makes sacrifice rational. It is because he conceives this presupposition to be mistaken, that Lucretius declares the practices and fears which are founded upon it to be folly. It is the same with all that is practically based upon the expectation of a life beyond the grave. The correction of the popular religion is due in his opinion to that true view of the world taught by Epicurus, whose memory Lucretius thus invokes at the opening of the Third Book of the "De Rerum Natura":

"Thee, who first wast able amid such thick darkness to raise on high so bright a beacon and shed a light on the true interests of life, thee I follow, glory of the Greek race, and plant now my footsteps firmly fixed in thy imprinted marks. . . . For soon as thy philosophyissuing from a godlike intellect has begun with loud voice, to proclaim the nature of things, the terrors of the mind are dispelled, the walls of the world part asunder, I see things in operation throughout the whole void: the divinity of the gods is revealed and their tranquil abodes which neither winds do shake nor clouds drench with rains nor snow congealed by sharp frost harms with hoary fall: an ever cloudless ether o'ercanopies them, and they laugh with light shed largely round. Nature too supplies all their wants and nothing ever impairs their peace of mind. But on the other hand the Acherusian quarters[91:4]are nowhere to be seen, though earth is no bar to all things being descried, which are in operation underneath our feet throughout the void."[91:5]

"Thee, who first wast able amid such thick darkness to raise on high so bright a beacon and shed a light on the true interests of life, thee I follow, glory of the Greek race, and plant now my footsteps firmly fixed in thy imprinted marks. . . . For soon as thy philosophyissuing from a godlike intellect has begun with loud voice, to proclaim the nature of things, the terrors of the mind are dispelled, the walls of the world part asunder, I see things in operation throughout the whole void: the divinity of the gods is revealed and their tranquil abodes which neither winds do shake nor clouds drench with rains nor snow congealed by sharp frost harms with hoary fall: an ever cloudless ether o'ercanopies them, and they laugh with light shed largely round. Nature too supplies all their wants and nothing ever impairs their peace of mind. But on the other hand the Acherusian quarters[91:4]are nowhere to be seen, though earth is no bar to all things being descried, which are in operation underneath our feet throughout the void."[91:5]

In another passage, after describing the Phrygian worship of Cybele, he comments as follows:

"All which, well and beautifully as it is set forth and told, is yet widely removed from true reason. For the nature of gods must ever in itself of necessity enjoy immortality together with supreme repose, far removed and withdrawn from our concerns; since exempt from every pain, exempt from all dangers, strong in its own resources, not wanting aught of us, it is neither gained by favors nor moved by anger. . . . The earth however is at all time without feeling, and because it receives into it the first-beginnings of many things, it brings them forth in many ways into the light of the sun."[91:6]

"All which, well and beautifully as it is set forth and told, is yet widely removed from true reason. For the nature of gods must ever in itself of necessity enjoy immortality together with supreme repose, far removed and withdrawn from our concerns; since exempt from every pain, exempt from all dangers, strong in its own resources, not wanting aught of us, it is neither gained by favors nor moved by anger. . . . The earth however is at all time without feeling, and because it receives into it the first-beginnings of many things, it brings them forth in many ways into the light of the sun."[91:6]

If the teaching of Epicurus be true it is evidentthat those who offered hecatombs with the idea that they were thereby mitigating anger, or securing special dispensation, were playing the fool. They were appealing to a fictitious motivity, one not grounded in "the nature of things." To one for whom the walls of the world had parted asunder, such a procedure was no longer possible; though he might choose to "call the sea Neptune" and reverence the earth as "mother of the gods."[92:7]

Judaism and Christianity.

§33. The history of religion contains no more impressive and dramatic chapter than that which records the development of the religion of the Jews. Passing over its obscure beginnings in the primitive Semitic cult, we find this religion first clearly defined as tribal self-interest sanctioned by Yahweh.[92:8]God's interestin his chosen people determines the prosperity of him who practices the social virtues.

"The name of Yahweh is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe.""He that is steadfast in righteousness shall attain unto life.""To do justice and judgment is more acceptable to Yahweh than sacrifice."[93:9]

"The name of Yahweh is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe."

"He that is steadfast in righteousness shall attain unto life."

"To do justice and judgment is more acceptable to Yahweh than sacrifice."[93:9]

But in time it is evident to the believer that his experience does not bear out this expectation. Neither as a Jew nor as a righteous man does he prosper more than his neighbor. He comes, therefore, to distrust the virtue of his wisdom.

"Then I saw that wisdom excelleth folly, as far as light excelleth darkness. The wise man's eyes are in his head, and the fool walketh in darkness: and yet I perceived that one event happeneth to them all. Then said I in my heart, As it happeneth to the fool, so will it happen even to me; and why was I then more wise? Then I said in my heart, that this also was vanity. For of the wise man, even as of the fool, there is no remembrance forever; seeing that in the days to come all will have been already forgotten. And how doth the wise man die even as the fool! So I hated life; because the work that is wrought under the sun was grievous unto me: for all is vanity and a striving after wind."[93:10]

"Then I saw that wisdom excelleth folly, as far as light excelleth darkness. The wise man's eyes are in his head, and the fool walketh in darkness: and yet I perceived that one event happeneth to them all. Then said I in my heart, As it happeneth to the fool, so will it happen even to me; and why was I then more wise? Then I said in my heart, that this also was vanity. For of the wise man, even as of the fool, there is no remembrance forever; seeing that in the days to come all will have been already forgotten. And how doth the wise man die even as the fool! So I hated life; because the work that is wrought under the sun was grievous unto me: for all is vanity and a striving after wind."[93:10]

It is evident that he who expects the favor offortune in return for his observance of precept is mistaken. The "work that is wrought under the sun" makes no special provision for him during his lifetime. Unless the cry of vanity is to be the last word there must be a reinterpretation of the promise of God. This appears in the new ideal of patient submission, and the chastened faith that expects only the love of God. And those whom God loves He will not forsake. They will come to their own, if not here, then beyond, according to His inscrutable but unswerving plan.

"The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.""For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy: I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones."[94:11]

"The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise."

"For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy: I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones."[94:11]

In this faith Judaism merges into Christianity.[94:12]In the whole course of this evolution God is regarded as the friend of his people, but his people learn to find a new significance in his friendship. That which is altered is the conduct which that friendship requires and the expectationwhich it determines. The practical ideal which the relationship sanctions, changes gradually from that of prudence to that of goodness for its own sake. God, once an instrument relevant to human temporal welfare, has come to be an object of disinterested service.

No such transformation as this was absolutely realized during the period covered by the writings of the Old Testament, nor has it even yet been realized in the development of Christianity. But the evolution of both Judaism and Christianity has taken this direction. The criterion of this evolution is manifestly both ethical and metaphysical. A Christian avows that he rates purity of character above worldly prosperity, so that the former cannot properly be prized for the sake of the latter. Furthermore, he shares more or less unconsciously such philosophical and scientific opinions as deny truth to the conception of special interferences and dispensations from a supernatural agency. Therefore he looks for no fire from heaven to consume his sacrifice. But his religion is nevertheless a practical expectation. He believes that God is good, and that God loves him and sustains him. He believes that there obtains between himself, in so far as good, and theuniversesub specie eternitatis, a real sympathy and reciprocal reenforcement. He believes that he secures through the profoundly potent forces of the universe that which he regards as of most worth; and that somewhat is added to these forces by virtue of his consecration. The God of the Christians cannot be defined short of some such account as this, inclusive of an ideal, an attitude, and an expectation. In other words the God of the Christians is to be known only in terms of the Christlike outlook upon life, in which the disciple is taught to emulate the master. When moral and intellectual development shall have discredited either its scale of values, or its conviction that cosmical events are in the end determined in accordance with that scale of values, then Christianity must either be transformed, or be untenable for the wise man. If we have conceived the essence of Christianity too broadly or vaguely, it does not much matter for our present purposes. Its essence is, at any rate, some such inwardness of life resolving ideality and reality into one, and drawing upon objective truth only to the extent required for the confirming of that relation.


Back to IndexNext