-^■'-■'■,^ GIFT or Professor G.R.Noyes - ^. ^rt': *■•••'..•.,;:••...• THE FAITH OF REASON. a Btxits of ©iscourses ON THE LEADING TOPICS OF RELIGION. By JOHN W. CHADWICK, AUTHOR OF "the BIBLE OF JO-DAY." BOSTON: ROBERTS BROTHERS. 1879. "51^^ ^b^^ C^ ^ >, Copyright,, 1^7^^,", \ iFTOl^ '' University prhss : John Wilson and son, Cambridge. c5- My darling boy, kissed but a moment since^ And laid away all rosy in the dark Is talking to himself. What does he say ? Not much, in truth, that I can understand; But now and then, among the pretty sounds That he is making, falls upon my ear My name. And then the sand-man softly comes Upon him and he sleeps. And what am I ^ Here in my book, but as a little child Trying to cheer the big and silent dark With foolish words? But listen, O, my God, My Father, and among them thou shalt hear Thy name. And soon I too shall sleep. When I awake I shall be still with thee. 884194 Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2007 with fundrng from IVIicrosoft Corporation littp://www.arcliive.org/details/cliristinmodernliOObroorich PREFACE. 'TPHIS volume is made up of a series of discourses preached in rapid succession to my own people in the months of January and February, 1879. It may be that some apology is due to the general reader for the directness of their form, and for some passages that make him a party to the confidential talk of a minister to his congregation. But the fact that the volume is printed in accordance with the expressed desire of my habitual hearers, and is intended primarily for their perusal, is my excuse for retaining the original form of its constituent parts. If reason as well as excuse is needed, let it be that the directness of their method is so deeply implicated in the various discourses, that to eliminate it wholly 8 PREFACE. would be to change their character so much that with less trouble I could re-write the entire series. I am persuaded that the form will prove no serious embarrassment to the general reader. Besides I have no desire to make the volume appear other than it is, — a collection of discourses on the leading topics of religion, written with reference to current discussions, and in answer to questions put to me by the more earnest and thoughtful members of my con- gregation. Brooklyn, October 25, 1879. CONTENTS. Introtiuctorg ©iscourgcs, PACE I. Agnostic Religion 13 II. The Nature of Religion 41 STfie JFaitb of iSeason. III. Concerning God 72 IV. Concerning Immortality 113 V. Concerning Prayer 161 VI. Concerning Morals 209 INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSES. I THINK man's soul dwells nearer to the East, Nearer to morning's fountains than the sun ; Herself the source whence all tradition sprang, Herself at once both labyrinth and clew. The miracle fades out of history, But faith and wonder and the primal earth Are born into the world with every child. Lowell. That one Face does not vanish, rather grows ; Or decomposes but to recompose; Becomes my Universe that feels and knows. Robert Browning. Power, more near my life than life itself, 1 fear not thy withdrawal ; more I fear, Seeing, to know thee not, hoodwinked with dreams Of signs and wonders, while, unnoticed, thou Walking thy garden still, commun'st with men, Missed in the commonplace of miracle. Lowell. AGNOSTIC RELIGION. " f^NE can begin so many things with a new person," says George Eliot, " even to be a better man." Why not with a new year as well as with a new person ? Somehow the aspect of the season seems to lend itself to thoughts of hope and cheer. The outward aspect of the days is hardly any different from those immedi- ately preceding. The sun rises a few minutes later than it did, and lengthens out each day a little at the end; a lazy way of lengthening his days, at first, as if it came a little hard to him. But the inward aspect somehow is not the same. A week ago, the backward look was natural, but now the forward look is so. Even those of you who have fared the worst of late are beginning to see light ahead. The fresh new year shall see you on your feet again be- fore it die, and marching on to victory. 14 Tt^E :fait^,6jF' 'reason. What I, propose to ao this moniiiig is to avail myself of this courageous attitude in which you find yourselves, and invite your attention to a subject which would not perhaps have been appropriate to the more sombre mood which was engendered by your old-year meditations. I am aware that such a course is open to the objection that it is a sort of death's-head at the feast ; but I remember that the purpose of that same death's-head was not to chill the merri- ment, but rather to encourage it with a some- what grim and yet good-natured carpe diem — Seize on to-day. What I wish to do is to con- sider certain tendencies of modern thought; also the goal to which they seem to tend ; and then to ask as fearlessly and answer as frankly as possible the question, Supposing that these tendencies go on and ultimate, will there be any thing left to mankind that can properly be called religion ; and, if so, will it be any thing that will be worth the sympathy and loyalty of earnest and true-hearted men and women? The tendencies to which I refer are far less AGNOSTIC RELIGION. 1 5 noticeable here in America than they are in England and upon the Continent. Or perhaps a truer statement would be that here they attain to much less frequent and important literary ex- pression. But, before going further, I am in duty bound to state what tendencies I have in mind. They are not such as have for their o^bjective point the denial of the dogmas of our popular theology, nor. even such as contravene its fundamental assumption of the supernatural origin of Chris- tianity. Those tendencies are ubiquitous and positive enough, but their significance is slight in comparison with other tendencies, hardly less ubiquitous and hardly less positive. But these attain to much less frequent and expansive and well-ordered literary expression. They have no respectable organ here in America, so far as I am able to discover. "The Index," which is edited by my noble friend Francis EUingwood Abbot, is certainly respectable ; but it is not the organ of agnosticism, of nescience, much less of dogmatic denial. Mr. Abbot himself is not an atheist, but a rational theist, able he thinks 1 6 THE FAITH OF REASON. to give a reason for the faith that is in him. Nevertheless, the tendencies which I have in mind find more conspicuous expression in his paper than in any other of equal intellectual force and general refinement. These tendencies, as I have now sufficiently implied, are those whose ultimate goal is the denial of any positive reality corresponding to the terms, God, Immortality, Prayer. Of private expression of these tendencies here in America, there is certainly no lack. And, judging from my personal experience, for every person affected by these tendencies a dozen years ago, there are a score affected by them now. Notably scien- tific men, albeit professors in the mosjt orthodox colleges, and regular attendants upon such " means of grace " as are provided by the col- lege authorities for the benefit of the rising gen- eration, confess to you when they are off duty that, corresponding to the words which I have named above, they are aware of no substantial meanings. Even the late Professor Agassiz, who, in default of better, publicly attacked Dar- AGNOSTIC RELIGION. ^ 1/ win with the ad captandum argument, " We are not the children of monkeys : we are the chil- dren of God," said to me privately in just so many words, " Mr. Chadwick, the scientific man knows nothing about God." But the tendencies which I have named are not confined to scien- tific men. I find them everywhere where there are thoughtful men and women ; not such as are hilariously happy in their discovery that there is no God, no immortality, and that every spoken prayer is so much wasted breath, though many such there are ; but there are also those to whom the loss of these copvictions and ideas out of their anxious lives is an immeasurable sorrow, who yet, because they cannot or think they can- not honestly retain them, with moistened eye and trembling lip bid them a sad farewell. There is one man here in America, who, better perhaps than any other, publicly represents the tenden- cies I have in mind ; in whom indeed, if I am not mistaken, they have reached their ultimate goal of absolute nescience. I refer to Mr. Felix Adler. Refined, scholarly, reverent, intensely 1 8 THE FAITH OF REASON, moral, ardently benevolent, with a genuine en- thusiasm for humanity, he does not say. There is no God, There is no immortality, but he does say. If there be a God or immortality, we have no knowledge of the one or of the other, and he says that prayer is a survival of beliefs which we no longer entertain, with which it ought to be discarded. In some respects, England is a much freer country than the United States. The tyranny of public opinion is much more repressive here than there. It is quite possible that there is much less of Mr. Adler's style of thought here than in Eng- land. But what there is, is much more timid in its expression here than there. There, there is so much of it, and it has grown so much of late, that, they have made a new word to express it, — agnos- ticism (a is the negative, and gnosticism means knowing or knowledge; and so agnosticism is literally not knowings and an agnostic is one who does not know). The creation of these words, and the frequent use of them of late, — you must all of you have come upon them many times, — AGNOSTIC RELIGION. 1 9 are signs of the increasing prevalence of the things which they denote. The increasing use of the word nescience, the negative opposite of science in its primitive sense, knowledge, is another finger pointing in the same direction. Those of our periodicals which reprint the most striking English articles introduce to the Ameri- can public many of the agnostic articles that ap- pear in England, but only a small proportion of them all. To one who follows up the course of English thought in the reviews and magazines pretty closely, nothing is more impressive than the extent to which the agnostic element pre- vails in such literature, as well as in scores of books, and the rapidity with which it has in- creased within a dozen years. The " Fort- nighily Review" is virtually the organ of agnostic thought, and its editor, John Morley, is a man whose culture and ability are second to no man's in Great Britain. But his re- view does not monopolize all the agnosticism. It appears in the " Contemporary " and the *' Nineteenth Century," side by side with the 20 THE FAITH OF REASON. pretentious vaporings of cardinals and bishops. It appears almost everywhere. Men of the high- est social, scientific, and literary rank make no concealment of their utter lack of faith in any God or immortality. And what is so obvious in Great Britain will shortly be so in America. If you and I were cowards, we should try perhaps to blink these facts, to make believe that no such facts exist. But they would exist just the same for all our cowardliness and lying. How- ever it may be with others, whatever faith / have must be in spite of all that I can hear or read . against it. If I should catch myself wilfully try- ing to believe one thing or another, not seeking for the truth, but seeking for arguments to bol- ster up some preconceived opinion, I should be ashamed ever to face you in this place again. Very likely, if I had avoided all the way along every book of less conservative aspect than my own thought, I might have remained just where I was a dozen years ago, or even have gone the way of various others, back to the flesh-pots of the popular theology. And it may be that I AGNOSTIC RELIGION. 21 have read too exclusively the most iconoclastic writers who have challenged my behefs. If it has been so, you may at least congratulate your- selves that the opinions which I have presented to you have not been drifted to my feet by any tide of mere conventionality, but have been plucked out of the teeth of danger, and fought for upon many a painfully contested fiqjd. From twelve to twenty years ago, when the supernatural theory of Christianity, the special inspiration of the Bible, and so on, were being summoned sharply to the bar of reason, there were those who said that the process of negation would not end with any of these things. It would go on, they said, till it involved the faiths of natural religion in a common ruin with super- natural Christianity. But those who said these things were, like Cassandra, doomed to have their prophecies habitually disbelieved and dis- regarded. I know that I for one did not be- lieve them or regard them. The supernatural, I thought, was but a parasitic growth, which had sucked, was sucking, and would suck. 22 THE FAITH OF REASON. the life out of natural religion. Destroy this parasitic growth, thought I, — and I was one of many who thought so, — and natural re- ligion would at once renew its youth, bourgeon and .blossom out as it had never done before, and bear such fruit of joy and blessing as had never gladdened the eyes and fed the hun- gry hearts of men since time began. But the Cassandras were right. Supernatural religion has everywhere lost its hold on the. intelligence of the civilized world, and so has natural re- ligion, too, in any such concrete shape as men imagined its triumphant future. If Theodore Parker, for example, could come back to us, he would confess that things had taken quite a dif- ferent turn from that which he anticipated and predicted. He would find a thousand ready to accept his anti-supernaturalism where he found a score when he was in the flesh. But would he find them all as confident as he was of a perfect God, a glorious immortality ; all of them ready to sanction his old-time prayers, wherein he talked with God as naturally and simply as a boy AGNOSTIC religion: 23 with his own mother? No, he would not. He would find in many instances that these things which were more dear to him than his own life had gone the way of others which were to him hateful and intolerable to the last degree. I am sure that Mr. Froude does not exaggerate when he says that there is silently transpiring in our midst a more important change in thought than any which the world has undergone since the downfall of Paganism and the conversion of the Roman Empire. I doubt if he would have ex- aggerated if he had said that even this was less important than the change which is at present going on. Now it is no part of my scheme this morning to state the arguments for or against one or the other of those great doctrines which have here- tofore been deemed essential to' religion. I will only say that, because the tendency of late has been so strong either to dogmatic denial of these doctrines or to agnostic inability to assent to them, it does not follow that this tendency is absolutely just, and that we should all at once 24 THE FAITH OF REASON. and all together abandon ourselves to it without reserve, as if its ultimate must be the final good. The tendency of thought at any given time may be in quite the opposite direction from that "' final philosophy" which a Princeton Professor im- agines he has discovered and condensed into one bulky volume, but which is still, I fancy, far, far ahead of us. There are those who speak as if the tendency of thought at any given time being discovered, there was nothing else for us to do, but drop our oars and let it bear us as it will upon its bosom. But sometimes there is nothing else for us to do, so we be men not things, than to contend against it with all our strength. And there is sometimes nothing else than this for us to do when the tendency of thought for the time being is towards the perfect. If it does not seem so to us, then we must go the other way. The band of Arctic explorers who patiently and pain- fully walked towards the North day after day, and then discovered they had been walking on an immense ice-floe all the time, which had taken them hundreds of miles southward, nevertheless AGNOSTIC religion: 25 did well to do just as they did. They knew the waCy their feet were going; they did not know there was a mighty current sweeping them at its own will. And so it often is with us. The mighty sweep of things-, the ultimate tendency which gathers up into itself all aberrations and divergences, — just as a ship's course to her desti- nation all of her tackings on and off, — of this we cannot be aware. We are on an ice-floe of such vast extent that, with strained eye or telescope, we have never seen its utmost bound. What we can know is whether our own feet are keeping on, however wearily and painfully, towards that which seems to us to be the true and good. If they are doing this, then we may look the whole world in the face without one blush of shame. It is here, I think, that rationalists are often quite as narrow, quite as unjust, as the most bigoted supernatu- ralists. They blame this or that person for not going with them, when he does not go with them simply and only because they do not seem to him to be going towards the truth. Instead of blaming him for his refusal to accept their guid- 26 THE FAITH OF REASON. ance, they should admire him for his steadfastness to personal convictions, — a nobler thing in any man than following, if this were possible, the ab- solute truth without such steadfastness. On the other hand, it is no less certain that if the facts which come within our ken seem hostile to those doctrines and ideas which we regard as most essential to religion, seem wholly subver- sive of them, then there is nothing else for us to do but to accept this conclusion manfully and adjust our lives to it as best we can. Whatever is doubtful, one thing is certain, — that no real good can come to us except along the line of our own personal integrity of thought and deed. It may well be that the negations of the present time are but so many steps in a progress to some higher affirmation than the world has ever yet received. I believe this. In hours of higher sanity, of deeper thought, I seem to catch some glimpses of a far-off time when man shall have a thought of God, of immortality, of prayer, more grand and beautiful than any thought of these which has so far appealed to the intelligence of AGNOSTIC RELIGION. 27 men. But, however this may be, nothing remains for us but to accept that which we are convinced is true, to give up every thing which does not seem so any longer. It may be hard, but if it is our duty, then there is no more to say. And, however some of us may conscientiously abide in a more positive order of ideas, let us beware lest we should ev^r cast the faintest shadow of reproach on those who have been inwardly com- pelled to surrender every most distinctive article of natural religion as it has so far been conceived. If they are as narrow and bitter in their icono- clasm as others are in their conservatism, then we may blame their narrowness and bigotry. But you and I have many a friend whose agnosticism is complete, but whose fidelity to personal con- viction puts to shame our own and that of our most orthodox acquaintances. For such we have no words of blame, and even our pity seems to find no joint in their self-poise and self-respect which it can penetrate. The aim of my discourse is not to question the validity of any ofthe leading doctrines of religion, 28 THE FAITH OF REASON. or to analyze the processes by which these doc- trines have lost their hold upon so many minds, but simply, facing, for the time, the fact that there are many minds on which their hold is broken, to ask, What then? Does any thing remain to such that can with any justness or propriety be spoken of as religion; and, if so, what is the nature and the good of it? I find the question stated in a recent number of the " London Spectator " in a bit of verse : — " What is the good and what is the bad ? What is the perfectly true ? What is the end you live for, my lad, And what may I ask are you ? Unproven I fear is your heaven above ; Life is but labor and sorrow ; Then why should we hope, and why should we love, And why should we care for the morrow ? " And not only is the question put, but also the following answer : — " There may be a fight worth fighting, my friend, Though victory there be none ; And though no haven be ours at the end, Still we may steer straight on. And though nothing be good and nothing be bad And nothing be true to the letter, Yet a good many things are worse, my lad, And one or two things are better." AGNOSTIC RELIGION. 29 The scope of this question and answer is indeed somewhat wider than that of my own question as I have stated it above. These in- troduce the ethical problem from which so far I have kept myself clear. The average assump- tion of the agnostic thinker is that, when we come to ethics, we come to terra firma. But re- cently various writers have been arguing, very laboriously, to prove that morals are dependent on religion, and that with the dogmatic denial of God and immortality, or the agnostic refusal to make either of these affirmations, the ground of all morality is cut away under its feet. Into the merits of this controversy, I have been with you already. Suffice it now to say that we arrived at the conclusion that, whatever inspira- tion or incitement for ethical action resides in the convictions corresponding to the terms God and Immortality, the basis of morals is in the social life of man, — in the absolute necessity for men who are to live together in harmonious rela- tions to accept certain limits to their conduct, to forego certain acts, however pleasant, because 30 THE FAITH OF REASON. they are anti-social in their nature, and to per- form certain others, however painful, because the social good demands them. The importance of moral actions does not lie in their determina- tion of the happiness or misery of individual men beyond the grave, but in their determina- tion of the happiness or misery of the agent and of society here in this present world. Instead of saying, therefore, *' Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die," if we have no longer any faith in an immortal life beyond the grave, we should say. Let us eat and drink, temperately and wisely, for to-day we live, and shall live well or ill in part according as we manage well or ill this bodily structure which is so closely impli- cated with the fortunes of our intellect and will. And as morality is not dependent on any theory of a future life, so is it not dependent upon any theory of God. That it is not dependent upon God, I do by no means say. For to my mind, in the last analysis, he is *' the power not our- selves that makes for righteousness." But whether a man conceives him so or not, he can- AGNOSTIC RELIGION. 31 not but admit that there is such a power, and he may still be moral, intensely so, whatever theory he may have of it. Ay, though, with or without the adjunct of a God, a man should hold with Schopenhauer and Hartmann that this is the worst possible world, I do not see that the foundations of morality would even then be shaken. On the contrary, I have often won- dered if pessimism be not a better working creed than optimism. If this is the best possi- ble world, as Leibnitz taught, to endeavor to improve it would appear to be an idle task. But if this is the worst possible world, it still remains for us to better it a little if we can. So much then, at least, remains for the agnostic, — " mere morality." Of God and immortality he may not presume to speak, and prayer may seem to him an idle form of words. But duty still remains. He is still living in a social world where his own actions do not end in themselves, but affect the welfare of others in ever-widening circles and to the remotest gen- erations. The experience of innumerable gen- 32 THE FAITH OF REASON. erations has wrought out for him a moral code, which, although still capable of further emenda- tion, is not to be lightly set aside. So much remains to the agnostic thinker. All arguments to the contrary are so many brilliant tours de force by which it is attempted to terrify men back into the behefs they have discarded, — a process morally akin to threats of pincers, rack, and wheel. Let the a priori reasoner prove ever so conclusively that the unbelieving man cannot be moral, and lo, his next-door neighbor is an unbeliever, the whiteness of whose moral nature, the courage of whose moral action, puts his own to shame. Ah ! but, says Mr. Mallock, his morality is only a survival of the beliefs his ancestors once held. It is a convenient subter- fuge. An unbelieving community, we are as- sured, or one which had worked out the entire stock of its hereditary faith, would not be moral. Such a contingency is so remote that it is very safe to prophesy. Meantime what we are cer- tain of is, that men whose faith is of the smallest in those doctrines of religion which are consid- AGNOSTIC RELIGION. 33 ered most essential are moral peers of the most enthusiastic believers of their own or any other time. Of this we are entirely certain; about the other it remains to be seen. But there are those who think that, properly speaking, morality is no part of religion. For better or for worse, the two have been asso- ciated from the earliest times; but if nothing more remains to the agnostic, they would say, than " mere morality," albeit there is nothing else in the whole world so good as this, they do not think he can be justly said to have any thing which is really of the nature of religion. Does there, then, remain to the agnostic any thing but mere morality, any thing which has either the form or essence of religion over and above its moral elements? There certainly does, if those who accept Comte in his entirety have any right to answer. These, answering for themselves, insist that they have a religion which is just as truly a religion as the Roman- ist's or Calvinist's. It has no God ; it has no immortality; though it has a kind of prayer. 34 THE FAITH OF REASON. But it has a substitute for God, namely, Le Grand Eire, the Great Being, Humanity, past, present, and future. It has a substitute for immortality, — the perpetuity of social influ- ence ; and that it is no ignoble one let George Eliot's poem testify, the grandest poem of these latter days : — •' Oh, may I join the choir invisible ! " It has a substitute for prayer, — ascriptions of reverence and adoration to the spirits of great men and saintly women who have been incorpo- rated into the Great Being. And yet, although the religion of humanity, as this is called, is capable of very grand expression, and though it corresponds to a circle of ideas which is full of goodly inspiration, is it not, after all, a sort of make-believe religion? Its god, its immor- tality, its prayer, are substitutes for the God and immortality and prayer of bond fide rehgion, and excellent as substitutes; and if my question were, What substitutes are there for God and immortality with the agnostic who has com- AGNOSTIC RELIGION. 35 pletely lost his faith in these? I might assign to them a very honorable place. Setting aside, then, the so-called religion of humanity, does there remain to the agnostic any thing of the essence of religion after he feels himself compelled to say, " If there is any God, I cannot find him ; if there is any immor- tality, I cannot prove it : and that God interferes to answer any human prayer I cannot find a particle of warrant." I do not think that I am anxious to make oiit a case in the affirmative, but only to find out the truth; but I will not deny that I am very happy when the truth appears to be that the most vital essence of religion may remain to one who finds himself compelled to make the above disclaimers. For the most vital essence of religion is not involved in any theory of God or of the world, nor in any theory of human destiny, nor in any form of prayer which needs an interfering deity. The most vital essence of religion is not involved in any of these distinctions of personal and im- personal. Least of all are those to be ac- 36 THE FAITH OF REASON. counted atheists who cannot speak of God as personal. Spinoza could not so speak of him, and yet Novalis rightly said of him, " He was a God-intoxicated man," and Schleiermacher, *' Spinoza not believe in God ! My friends, he did not beheve in any thing else." Mind you that here I am not pleading for myself; for, if I cared to be dogmatic about the mysteries of the Godhead, I should say. To predicate per- sonality of the Infinite is to express the in- expressible a little better than to predicate impersonality. But may we not go one step further, and declare that the most vital essence of religion is not involved in any theory of God whatever, or even in any affirmation of a being who is the moving force of all phenom- ena? To affirm God is to affirm a theory of the universe; to me a theory of all-sufficing ex- cellence and absolutely indispensable. I can conceive that all the harmonious order of the universe was potential in that vaporous cloud which was the primordial substance of the world, but only if there was potential in it an- AGNOSTIC RELIGION. 37 tecedent to the lowest term of the ascending series, a higher than the highest. Evolution of a higher /r^;;^ a lower is comprehensible enough. But evolution of a higher by a lower is abso- lutely incomprehensible. To affirm God, then, is to affirm a theory of the universe ; most in- dispensable, but still a theory. And the most vital essence of religion is not involved in man's relation to any theory of the universe, but in his relation to the universe itself. It is to be impressed with its majestic order, to thrill with recognition of the tender grace and awful sweep of things, and to convert this passive recognition into a voluntary energy of devotion to the eternal order in which we find ourselves embosomed. And even for the complete agnos- tic there may remain this vital essence of re- ligion. He may discard all theories, but he cannot discard the universe. Evermore his little life is set in the midst of this abounding order, mystery, and law. And the question. Is he a religious man ? is answered, not by discov- ering what theory he has of God or of the uni- 38 THE FAITH OF REASON. verse, but by discovering in what attitude he stands before the everlasting fact. If in an attitude of easy indifference or unawed gar- rulity, then truly he is not a religious man. But if the morning and the evening hush, the glow at night of multitudinous stars, the " spring's delicious trouble in the ground," the summer's beautiful effulgence, the im- perial splendor of autumnal days, and, more than all, the mystery of human hfe and thought and love, — if all these things gladden his heart so much that he cannot express his joy, and yet soften it so that suddenly it overflows with unforbidden tears, then he may well be more religious than one who has a theory of God or of the universe which he can rattle off to you as glibly as a boy his morning lesson. And though such a man may never pray in any form of words, and least of all may ever wish to coax the Infinite to interfere to turn his mill or sell his merchandise, or even to make him a better man, which he can do at any time him- self by simply availing himself of the normal AGNOSTIC RELIGION. 39 structure of the universe, — nevertheless when this man looks up to heaven at night, or out upon the sea, or into faces that respond to him with eye-beams full of love, or into the im- measurable deeps of his own moral nature, the awe that falls upon his heart, the joy with which it leaps, the peace that passes understanding and subdues him utterly, is just as truly prayer as any form of words that ever trembled with the fervor of a saint's most passionate entreaty. You may think, perhaps, that I have been a long way round, and taken a great deal of trouble to show that men and women who de- clare that they have no religion may neverthe- less have a religion of the most genuine sort. You may think they will not thank me for my trouble. Well, what I have written has not been written with a view to getting their thanks. It has been written to express my gratitude and joy that religion, equally with morality, is so independent of all special theories, so deeply implicated in the total make of things, that where there is intelligence and earnestness there 40 THE FAITH OF REASON. must be religion. Hundreds are busy in our time in trying to convince their neighbors that unless they believe thus and so they are religious or moral under false pretences; that unless they believe thus and so they have no right to be moral or religious. But mine has been a far more gracious task: to show that morals have their basis in no theological conceptions, but in the natural relationships 9f human life ; to show that even religion in its divinest essence is not man's sense of his relation to any theory of the universe, however pure and high, but is rather his sense, tender and awful, sweet and strong and sane, of his relation to the universe itself. I do not know what better New- Year's greeting I could give you than this assurance, that wher- ever there is intelligence and earnestness, there religion is as inevitable as to a living man the beating of his heart. Religion may be vastly more than this inevitable relation between the finite and the infinite, but this must ever be the brightest jewel in its crown. January 5, 1879. 11. THE NATURE OF RELIGION. T AST Sunday morning, it was my happy privilege to invite you, each and all, to come and rejoice with me that religion is so deeply implicated in the make of things, the structure of mankind, that where there is ear- nestness and intelligence there must be religion. The most of you accepted my invitation joyfully. From time to time, you had been troubled by your apparent obligation to deny the possession of religion to certain of your friends and neigh- bors, whose apparent irreligiousness, or, rather, unreligion, seemed to suggest a doubt whether religion after all is of any great importance. If some of the best men you know have no religion, religion cannot, it would seem, be quite that in- dispensable thing which we have heretofore imagined it to be. All those among you who have had some such experience as this were very 42 THE FAITH OF REASON. glad, I think, that, without any forcing of the facts, I could so easily make it appear that the essential virtue of religion is not involved in any theory or definition, but in man's attitude of reverence and loyalty before this Everlasting Fact we call the Universe. Others among you were, perhaps, somewhat differently affected. Certain religious beHefs are to you so important, that you have come to regard them as absolutely essential to religion ; to feel that a man is re- ligious under false pretences, that a man has no right to be religious, who does not very con- sciously and definitely believe in God and Im- mortality and Prayer. And some of you were so unfortunate as to identify my own position with that of the persons I was speaking of, though I took particular pains to avoid any such misunder- standing. I sometimes think that preachers are the victims of a horrible fatality, in virtue of which their hearers are seized with a sudden anxiety about the temperature of the church, or whether somebody else will not object to what the preacher is saying, just at the moment when he THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 43 is saying something which he is particularly anxious they should hear. And so it happens, when he has dipped his pen in the ink thirty or forty times without writing a word, debating with himself whether he shall call a thing invisible blue or invisible green, they go away with the idea that he said it was as black as a coal, or holding him responsible for an opinion which he has stated only with a view to expressing his partial or entire dissent. The leading thought of my discourse ^ last Sunday morning was one which has long been exceedingly precious and consoling to my mind, but it was not one in which I have any special and exclusive property. It has been carefully elaborated and eloquently enforced by J. Allan- son Picton, an English Trinitarian clergyman, whose book, ** The Mystery of Matter," is the most helpful and instructive volume I have read for the last dozen years. But it was not original with him. " The Nation," of some recent date, speaking of the poet Shelley, says that he ** re- 1 On " Agnostic Religion," p. 13. 44 THE FAITH OF REASON. jected all that is properly known as Christianity, and that it is impossible to deny his atheism ; " and yet, '* in all that constituted a religious mind, in natural piety, in purity of life and motive, Shelley was exceptionally conspicuous." But of this seeming paradox " The Nation " finds abundant confirmation in the statement of the late Frederick Robertson, that " with all his scepticism, Shelley's disposition was any thing but irreligious." ** A person of much eminence for piety in our times," says Robertson, "has well observed that the greatest want of religious feeling is not to be found among the greatest in- fidels, but among those who never think of religion except as a matter of course." " The leading feature of Shelley's character," he con- tinues, " may be said to have been a natural piety." It is not uncommon for Christian people to allow that such or such a person, however sceptical, is *' a good man ; " but you will notice that what Robertson claims for Shelley, who was no mere agnostic, but a dogmatic atheist, if there ever was one, is *' a natural piety," — a sentiment THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 45 which preachers who have not a thousandth part of Robertson's spirituaHty, are apt to think impossible save in connection with a very defi- nite idea of God, and a very frank and posi- tive behef in him. You will see, then, that for the doctrine of my discourse I did not lack the enthusiastic support of two at least (Picton and Robertson) of the most gifted evangelical Christians of these modern times. Without their support, I should feel equally certain, not only of the truth, but of the joy and satisfaction in- herent in my view ; but if any of you sigh to have the truth I hold indorsed by orthodox authorities, you are entirely welcome to the facts as I have stated them. After so much of a prelude to my discourse, let me proceed at once to the discussion of the question, What is religion? — a question which I wish to answer in a general way before taking up some of the leading doctrines of religion, and making them the subjects of a series of dis- courses. My purpose is not now, as last Sunday morning, to discover the most vital essence of 46 THE FAITH OF REASON. religion, but to discover, first, its relative sig- nificance, then the course of its development, and, finally, the highest form it can assume consist- ently with the idea which I have already set forth of its most vital essence. What is religion? It is the most significant factor in the history of mankind. I know that there are those who think, or think they think, that religion is a matter of the past ; that it has seen its best days, and is now seeing its worst, — the days of its humiliation and decay; unless they should prefer to call the days of its power and triumph its worst days, — worst for mankind, — and these its best, because well-nigh its last. But even they would not be able to deny that in the past the religious life has been the most conspicuous and important interest. Religion has been the most engrossing theme of the his- torian ; it has built the grandest buildings, writ- ten the most precious books, painted the most beautiful pictures, suggested the most glorious music, inspired the most illustrious men, in- augurated the most important changes of society. THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 47 controlled the most far-reaching movements of mankind.* Religion was the fountain-head of all the ancient arts. Literature was invented to im- mortalize her ethics and her prayers; astron- omy, to ferret out the secrets of her starry gods ; sculpture, to make visible her deities ; * architec- ture, to enshrine the sculptor's work; mathe- matics, to mark out her festivals, the song and dance to gladden them. It is a notable fact that even those who are at present most convinced that religion has had its day, do not find any other problems so fascinating and engrossing as those furnished by her vicissitudes. Dead she may be, yet they are never tired of groping in her tomb, of studying out the footprints she has made across the centuries. Even her childhood, feeble and stammering, as all childhood is, has kept hundreds of scholars busy day and night during the present century, until at length, in his " Principles of Sociology," the indefatiga- ble and faithful Spencer has been able to gather up into a graphic and consistent whole the story of her birth and infant ways, — so charming 48 THE FAITH OF REASON. some of them in their absurdity, — in a way that leaves almost nothing for his successors to do but to add comment and illustration to his compre- hensive and convincing argument. In all of this, I am aware there is no argument for the continu- ance of any special form of religion. But there is an argument for the belief that there must be something essential to humanity in that which has been so vast, so multiform, so universal, so far- dating in its manifestations. Modern opponents of religion are, for the most part, great believers in the power and dignity of human nature. But could human nature be convicted of hopeless idiocy in any other way more forcibly than by the assurance that all its interest in religion, from first to last, has been a grand mistake? Banish the religions, each and all, but only that religion may the more remain ! That which has been so long in coming to maturity will never perish in a night. The mushroom may do that, but not the oak, whose roots have sucked its life-blood from the soil, whose strength has matched itself against a century of storms. THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 49 At the same time, it would be almost criminal for us to overlook the fact that such a vast amount of evil has been associated with religion in the past, that it is no wonder that many have sincerely doubted whether the good associated with it has been of equal weight. " We cannot forget," says Dr. Hedge, " that " religion has been a worker of evil, — one of the '* greatest of the workers of evil. No agent that " has wrought in earthly scenes has been more pro- ** lific of ruin and wrong. The wildest aberrations " of human nature, crimes the most portentous, " the most desolating wars, persecutions, hatred " and wrath and bloodshed, more than have " flowed from all sources beside, — have been its " fruits. The victims of fanaticism outnumber " those of every other and all other passions that ** have wasted the earth. Pining in dungeons, " hunted like beasts of prey, stretched on the *' rack, affixed to the cross, — their sufferings are " the horror of history. No high-wrought fiction, " recounting imaginary woes, can match the " colors of their authentic tragedy. A corrup- 50 THE FAITH OF REASON. " tion of the text of the Vedas has cast thousands " of Hindu widows ahve on the funeral-pile. An ** interpolation of two words in the service of the " Eastern Church has driven whole villages in " Russia into fiery death. A sentence in the " Book of Exodus has been a death-sentence to ** miUions of hapless women. And who shall " compute the sum of the lives that have fur- " nished the holocausts of the Inquisition? • Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum.' " In this tale of sorrows we must reckon, more- " over, the melancholy and madness religion so ''often engenders, — religious mania, — which, *' where it does not impel to self-slaughter, op- " presses the soul with dull despair, or pierces " it with mortal anguish. It is fearful to think "that man, in addition to the necessary bur- " dens of Hfe and all inevitable ills, should " be subject to these ideal woes ; that so many " fine spirits should suffer blight through their " own diseased imaginations ; that to so many " noble minds the light that is in them should be THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 5 I " made darkness through superstitious doubts " and fears ; that so many innocent hearts should " bear the burden of self-imputed guilt and " doom ! No region of the earth, and no plane " of life, is secure from this plague. Bayard ** Taylor found in the track of the missionaries " beyond the Arctic circle the same spiritual ails ** that have desolated polished lands. * The ** soul,' says Novalis, * is the most active of " poisons.' Religion is the soul of mortal life ; ** when mis-directed or over-urged it becomes, in- ** stead of an animating force, a consuming fire." This is, indeed, a serious indictment of reli- gion, but, coming as it does from one of its most thoughtful advocates, it cannot be suspected of over-statement. But there has been a great waste of abuse of religion on account of this dark side of its development, which hundreds of would-be evolutionists still keep up, though in strict accordance with the terms of their phi- losophy, they have no right to do so. All such abuse presupposes the supernatural standpoint. Your ardent evolutionist, in nine cases out of 52 THE FAITH OF REASON. ten, speaks of religion as if it had been made complete outside of human nature, and imposed upon it, when, in fact, human nature itself has made it, and it has been good or bad just in pro- portion as human nature has been the one or the other. ''Imposed by priests?" Ay, but the priests are self-imposed, legitimate children of humanity. Religion has kept pace with hu- man culture. At every stage, it has been the best religion possible. Nothing, seen from our standpoint, can be more puerile than the ear- liest ideas of religion ; but, with the data which men had at their command, they were the most reasonable possible, and did as much credit to their inventors as the ideas of Martineau and Tyndall and Spencer do to them. It is high time for men to stop blaming religion for her debasing treatment of humanity, seeing that she is humanity's own child, and ever bears her parent's image in her face. What is religion? It is an order of ideas and beliefs and practices which includes, upon the one hand, the humblest worship of ancestral THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 53 ghosts, — a stage antecedent to fetichism, — and on the other hand, the silence of a Carlyle or Spencer before the Infinities and^ Immensities, and all that lies between this zenith and that nadir. And nowhere, along the course of this development, is there a break at which a super- natural element can be intruded, while the wild growth of supernatural theories can easily be ac- counted for without recourse to any supernatural facts. Religion is often spoken of as if it were coextensive with humanity. But investigation seems to show that there are tribes still extant which have stopped short- of religion in their de- velopment. Antecedent to religion there must be a regular development of ideas concerning sleep and dreams and swoon and epilepsy, of death and resurrection, of souls and ghosts, spirits, and demons. Religion does not properly begin before the supernatural agent has, as it were, forgotten his human origin, or at least ceased to be regarded as the special ancestor or friend. The realm of ghosts develops into a realm of supernatural agents, who have lost their ances- 54 THE FAITH OF REASON. tral traits and special relationships, before religion can properly be said to have begun. Whether or not, then, '' we are such stuff as dreams are made of," our religion is, most clearly, in the last analysis. It was the hush of consciousness in sleep that suggested to primeval men an inner-self who could go wandering off, leaving the body dull and silent, and come back to re- vive it. The analogy of sleep and death was too conspicuous to admit a moment's doubt that death was but a sleep, during which the other self might, must still be alive and stirring. It is hardly to be wondered at that ideas of a future life have engrossed so much attention in the re- ligious sphere when we consider that the gen- esis of these ideas was actually antecedent to the genesis of religion. The ghosts were the pro- genitors of the gods. There was a doctrine of immortality before there was a doctrine of re- ligion. And it may well be, also, that the moral idea was other-worldly in its earliest form ; that the rights of ghostly ancestors took chronologi- cal as well as logical precedence of the rights of THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 55 living men and women. Given the conviction of a world of ghosts, and every subsequent step in the development from ancestor-worship to fetichism, from fetichism to nature-worship, from nature-worship to polytheism, from polytheism to monotheism, from monotheism as anthropo- morphic as possible, — that is, representing the god as much like a man as possible, — to mono- theism as little anthropomorphic as possible, — given the starting-point, and every subsequent stage of this process of evolution is inevitable. Strangely enough, — but in the strangeness is there not a hint that the evolution of religion has at length come full circle? — strangely enough, religion ends where it began, — with the affir- mation, God is a Spirit. But did ever formal likeness include such utterly divergent thought? The " spirit " of the primeval worshipper was an ancestral ghost. And there were as many gods as there were ghosts. For us there is One God. A spirit ?. Say rather, dropping the article, who is spirit^ one, and yet far more omnipresent than all the multitudes of the primeval worshipper. 56 THE FAITH OF REASON. " A presence far more deeply interfused, ■^ Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns. And the round ocean and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man, — A motion and a spirit that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things." There are those who seem to think rehgion wholly discredited, through all its course, by- such an account of its genesis as this which I have given. It began in dreams, they say, and it is still a dream. The last spirit like the first is a film of the imagination. But no beginning, however small and weak, can utterly discredit the consummate fruit of any process of evolu- tion if it so be that the consummate fruit is fair and sweet. Because all apples are descended from the common crab, shall I despise my golden sweets upon yon "' holy hill," and shall the Baldwins only blush for shame, and not, as maidens do, • for greater loveliness? Is the great ocean steamer any less wonderful and beautiful because her first progenitor was not even a " dug-out," but a charred log in which some savage made his first brief voyage? Does THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 57 it detract any thing from Brunelleschi's dome, or Milan's miracle of countless spires, that the first essay in architecture was probably the tying together of the top-branches of several trees with some stout twig or vine? Are cer- tain special architectural forms any less beauti- ful, because in their inception they symbolized men's wonder at the mystery of reproduction? Could they have symbolized any thing more mysterious, any thing more wonderful? And does **the marriage of true minds" admit of any impediment or get any shadow of dis- honor on account of any thing that Lubbock and McLennan have written about wife-seizure as the universal form of primitive marriage? The evolutionist is a traitor to his own philoso- phy when, from the humble origin of any order of ideas, he infers their present worthlessness or any thing to their discredit. For it is essential to the theory of evolution to maintain that every order of ideas is suitable to the time of its appearance and to the grade of mind that gives it birth. But the genesis of religion was 58 THE FAITH OF REASON. not unworthy or ignoble. Primitive religion was the expression of man's awe and wonder in the presence of his own mysterious life. Its genesis, therefore, was not material but spiritual. Thus, in its dawning hour, there was a hint of its noontide magnificence. So much for the relative importance of re- ligion, and so much for the order of its develop- ment. It now remains to ask. What is religion in this fourth quarter of the nineteenth century? Evidently it is no one thing, or if one thing, then e pluribus unum-^ one made up of many. It is an order of ideas and beliefs and practices almost or quite as comprehensive as the entire process of religious evolution from the remotest down to the present time. There is hardly any stage of religious evolution in the past which is not represented by the different religions of to- day which make up the sum of universal reli- gion. And, indeed, just as the present earth is the best book in which Jto study the geological history of the planet; just as its processes, at present going on, tell pretty much the whole THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 59 story, explain almost every thing that ever has taken place, — so the present phenomena of religion, the processes at present going on in the religious world, admit us into almost every secret of the ancient world of thought and as- piration. As a high mountain in the tropics reproduces every zone with its appropriate vege- tation, so present religion reproduces every zone of man's religious evolution with its appropri- ate ideas. Around the base, the savage growths of fetichism, and still lower forms, flourish with tropical luxuriance; higher up, the more tem- perate forms of polytheism and a monotheism still anthropomorphic; and, higher still, the Edelweiss's noble purity ; nay, but my figure fails me utterly; the mountain's top blossoms as never did the vales below, and heaven is more near, although its stars into more awful spaces seem withdrawn. The sympathy of religions ought to follow from the apprehension of their natural develop- ment, all from the same farroff and poor be- ginnings. No one can toss its head, elate with 6o THE FAITH OF REASON. the assurance of a supernatural origin, quite different from that of all the rest. No one, not even the highest, can look contemptuously on the lowest in the scale ; for in that lowest, as in a mirror, it can see the image of its own rude beginning. As the old gravestones used to phrase it : — " As you are now, so once was I." But from an order so inclusive, how select the only true religion? Included in this order is the lowest fetichism on the one hand, and on the other the most spiritual ideas. What if we say there is no absolute best; the religion must be proportioned to the general character and cul- ture? The converted cannibal eats his super- fluous wife, because she is an obstacle to his Christian baptism. It is not as if we were all obliged to turn eclectics and go about search- ing for the best religion. What is best for one man is not best for another. Sitting Bull's own religion is probably better for him than James Martineau's would be. As for the higher thought, THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 6 1 as Jesus said, ** He that is able to receive it, let him receive it." Those that have it need not fear to publish it lest all these Romanists and Evangelical Protestants should suddenly accept it, and find it incompatible with their general character. They will not accept it. What they want is something concrete, tangible. Only with the general enlargement of their minds do men get rid of small ideas. Till then, the new beliefs are mere receptacles which hold the substance of the former creeds and dogmas. What is best for one man is not best for another. What is best for you and me is that which we now have, amended by the clearer vision of each succeeding day. Whatever joy and blessing of the religious life may be in store for us, one thing is sure, our way to it must be along the path of our own personal conviction. " The hell from which a lie will keep a man," says George Macdonald, " is doubtless the best place that he can go to ; " and may we not add that the god for whose glory we must shun the guidance of the truth is, by this sign, a god 62 THE FAITH OF REASON, whose glory ought to be with us a matter of supreme indifference ? What a great many persons seem to want is some excuse for keeping up the old names, no matter how little of the old meaning is kept along with them. Mr. Joseph Cook's theology is so different from Calvin's, that Calvin would have roasted him with less compunction than Servetus; but modern orthodoxy cannot suffi- ciently applaud him, because he gives it a lot of lame excuses for still keeping up a show of belief in the old doctrine, though perfectly aware that his trinity is not the old trinity, nor his atonement the old atonement, nor his depravity the old depravity, and so on through all the creeds and articles. And so, I grieve to say, there is some disposition here and there among radical thinkers, who honestly believe that religion is a thing of the past, to make-believe that this or that thing is religion which in reality they do not con- sider to be soj Here it is the worship of collec- tive humanity, and there the worship of the moral ideal. Again, knowing what prestige the name THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 6% of religion carries, some endeavor to make out that morality is identical with religion, and co- extensive; while, on the other hand, there are not a few in the community who contend that religion is entirely independent of morality, and that, while morality is an ever-greatening reality, rehgion is a survival of the past. To neither of these positions can we commit ourselves after a careful study of the facts. To identify morality with religion, to declare that beyond morality religion has no significance, is to go counter to the entire history of religion since it has been historical, and to all the archaeologists have raked together beyond the utmost bound of history. The association of morality with religion has always been so close — or if not always, gener- ally — that to call morality an essential part of religion is certainly legitimate. Last Sunday morning I assumed for the moment the negation of this position in order to ask," If morality is not essential to religion, does any thing remain to the agnostic thinker that can properly be called religion ? " But the next moment, spite of my- 64 THE FAITH OF REASON. self, I brought it back again, when I said that the most vital essence of religion was to be im- pressed with the majestic order of the universe, to thrill with recognition of the tender grace and awful sweep of things, and (here the morality came back) to convert this passive recogfiition into a voluntary energy of devotion to the eternal order in which we find ourselves embosomed. And if morality is a part of religion, it must be a great part ; if conduct be indeed, as Matthew Ar- nold has insisted, three-fourths of human life. He has not, I fancy, overrated its importance. But so long as morality responds to purely social inspirations, so long as duty is simply and only a man's contribution to the social order, a man's expression of his gratitude for the fidelity of former generations, it may be said that it is not consciously religious. It is unconsciously religious, because " the power, not ourselves, that makes for righteousness" is ultimately the power which doth " preserve the stars from wrong, And the most ancient heavens through it are fresh and strong." THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 65 Morality becomes consciously religious only when it becomes a voluntary energy of devotion to the eternal order of the universe. Let a man's heart really quicken with those sentiments of awe and wonder, gratitude and trust — which are so deeply implicated, not only in the scientific apprehension of the universe, but, indeed, in any simply human or poetic vision of its infinite per- fections — and how can he help desiring, longing, steadfastly resolving to give himself in earnest service of that infinite power whose manifesta- tions have awakened in him all these sentiments ? So piety becomes enthusiasm for humanity. The one life is in every thing. There is nothing without it. And all things are for every one. Just as the heavens globe themselves in every drop of dew, so does the universe in every indi- vidual life. All that has ever been was prepara- tion for this infinitesimal life of yours and mine. All the pasts help us ; all the futures beckon us. And now what is the natural, the inevitable re- sponse of any heart that feels all this : that all is so for each ; that one, the Infinite, is so for all. 66 THE FAITH OF REASON. What can it be but Each for all ; each for the Infinite One? And this is morality with a divine emphasis. Such morality, so crowned and glorified, no one can doubt, is a true part of religion. Whatever substitutes for religion have been, or may yet be invented, that only has a perfect right to be considered a factor of religion which has been vitally associated with it from the ear- liest times. Evolution may exalt and purify the contents of religion, but the contents thus ex- alted and purified must not be dissipated into viewless air. And as morality has always been so vitally associated with religion that the scope of evolution must continue to embrace its sacred trusts, so has the idea of another life been so vitally associated with it that the scope of evolu- tion in the future cannot be exclusive of its ten- der radiance or solemn beauty. Certainly there have been great developments of religion of which the conviction of another life has been no part (Judaism, for example), or upon which the thought (as in the case of Buddhism), so far THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 67 from being joyful and inspiring, lay like the weight of mountains. But special circumstances induced both of these exceptions to the rule, which is, that the idea of a future Hfe has been included in the data of religion, as one of the most prominent, from the beginning of religion until now. The doctrine of immortality is older than the doctrine of the gods, — was its progeni- tor, as we have seen. And so I cannot help thinking that the scope of religious evolution in the future must be inclusive of this idea. With the decay of proofs once thought to be sufficient, there may be less of confident assertion, less of unwavering faith ; but the idea need not be the less religious upon this account. A tender hope, deepening into serene assurance in great hours of thought, or in moments of unutterable love, — a perfect confidence that only that which is best for us as ** members one of another " awaits us at the end ; so long as these remain, the line of evolution cannot be said to be broken, and these may well be more religious in their implications than the most absolute dogmatism 68 THE FAITH OF REASON. that deals in pocket-maps and vital statistics of the New Jerusalem. However this may be, one thing is certain: this, that the future of religious evolution must include the element of worship, and the object of this worship must be no substitute for the Eternal, be it collective humanity or the moral ideal, but still the Eternal, the Infinite, " in whom we live and move and have our being." More silent than their fathers concerning him whom they call God, not speaking of him " as if he were a man on the next street," not parcelling out his attributes, not chattering about what he determined in the most secret counsels of the Trinity before the beginning of time, a tenderer awe, a holier reverence, shall be awakened by men's thought of him in coming times than ever in the past. It may be that some of you will think me in- consistent here with what I said last Sunday morning. Then I insisted that the most vital essence of religion is not involved in a man's theory of God or Immortality, but in the awe THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 69 which falls upon his mind as he confronts the universal order, and in the voluntary energy of self-surrender to this order which this awe inspires. If I had said or thought that the most vital es- sence of religion was merely some pleasant titil- lation consequent on seeing a glorious sunset or a pretty face, then there would be some incon- sistency between what I said then and the em- phasis which I now place upon the sense of a relation to the Infinite Power. But what I had in mind, and what I endeavored to express, was that no mere satisfaction or delight in isolated objects is vitally religious, but the awe and glad- ness which are quickened in us when this or that isolated experience suddenly opens out into all the infinities and immensities and eternities. Though it were Biichner himself, the boldest of materialists, who thrilled with this emotion, in spite of his philosophy he would then and there commune with an infinite spirit ; his " tendency of matter to combine " would flash upon him as the Power, called by whatever name, adequate to produce the length and breadth and height 70 THE FAITH OF REASON. and depth and beauty and sublimity and joy and love of this illimitable universe, and he would stand abashed and silent, if he did not like won- dering Linnaeus fall upon his knees. The most vital essence of religion does inhere in man's rela- tion to the universe, but, however unconsciously, this relation, when it is at its best, implies a re- lation to a power which manifests itself in the totality of universal life and law. It is no mere aggregation of phenomena that inspires our awe. No, but the blending of their various chords into that harmony which we affirm as often as we say the. universe, — the turned-into-one. To have this vision and the attendant consecration is in- deed the most essential thing, but happiest of all are they who, consciously, can lift their hearts above all outward things to One who is the un- seen Power, whose flowing garment the time- spirit is for ever weaving, the inmost thought and life and love, for ever baffling our comprehension, whom still our very ignorance affirms, for whom no name is adequate ; whom, therefore, because we must still somehow speak of him, we call by THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 71 the most simple name of all, a name which is no definition, but a continent for all the awe and reverence and adoration with which our hearts expand, — a name which we have spoken thou- sands of times, but which, now that we pause and think of it we hardly dare to speak at all, — and yet will speak, I with my lips, you in your silent hearts, — now let us speak it, — God. January 12, 1879. THE FAITH OF REASON. Him who dare name, And yet proclaim, Yes, I believe ? Who that can feel His heart can steel To say, I disbelieve ? Goethe. What were the God who sat outside to scan The spheres that 'neath his finger circling ran ? God dwells within, and moves the world and moulds. Himself and Nature in one form enfolds. Goethe. Mother of man's time-travelling generations, Breath of his nostrils, heart-blood of his heart, God above all gods worshipped of all nations. Light above light, law beyond law. Thou art. Swinburne. III. CONCERNING GOD. /^^ERTAINLY, it is not with any expectation of satisfying you or myself with what I have to say this morning concerning the highest of all themes that I venture to approach it, and invite your company. My treatment of this theme, as every man's, must be inadequate. The wisest here, however satisfactory they may be to others, will not be so to themselves. They will be less so in the future than they have been in the past. As knowledge widens with the lapse of time, less and less satisfactory will be men's speech concerning God. Language does not keep pace with thought and feeling. Two or three thousand, and even two or three hundred, years ago men had but little difficulty in finding words to express all they knew, or thought they knew, about God. Now it is different. The wisest lay a hushing finger on their lips. 76 THE FAITH OF REASON. " Thought is deeper than all speech, Feeling deeper than all thought; Souls to souls can never teach What unto themselves is taught." Meantime the air is thick with talk of atheism, with doleful prophecies and dreadful warnings. With the spread of atheism we are assured there will be a fearful moral revolution. Men will seek evil and pursue it. They have done right so far, because they have felt God's eye to be upon them, or because they have expected to give an account of their actions in another world. Such is the doctrine ; and, if it is true to any great ex- tent, it would seem that there must follow some enfeeblement of the moral life. But it may be doubted whether the efficacy of the fear of hell as " a hangman's whip to hold the wretch in order," has not of late been overrated, and equally the dread of God's omniscience. It may also be doubted whether there is as much real atheism in the community 'as our terrorists insist. Men are silent or speak little, be- cause any thing they can say seems so inade- quate to express the sense of mystery which CONCERNING GOD. y/ presses on their hearts. Many who are consid- ered atheists do not consider themselves so, although they may prefer being considered so to having their attitude confounded with that of the majority. What they object to is not so much belief as definition. When Joubert says, '' It is not a difficult matter to believe in God, if we are not asked to define him," it is not that he would be at liberty to believe in him as little as pos- sible, but because he would be left free to ex- pand his thought and feeling without bound ; because defined is con^ntd. So, too, when Mat- thew Arnold says : ** We, too, would say God il* the moment we said God you would not pretend that you know all about him." The majority of atheists are men whose thought and feeling about God transcend all ordinary statements, all popu- lar definitions. Henry Thoreau said, " It would seem as if Atheism must be comparatively popu- lar with God." Why, but because the so-called atheists are often men who reverence God too much to waste much time with any of the theo- logians. It is not to be denied, however, that there are those who not only consider themselves 78 THE FAITH OF REASON. atheists, but wish to be considered so by others, insisting that they have no right to claim immu- nity from any odium which properly attaches to this designation. But this, in many cases, is only a concession of the right of the majority to determine the significance of words. In others it is a sort of vanity. In perfect frank- ness, it must be allowed that there are those in every community who consider atheism some- thing smart. The satisfaction which such per- sons take in their atheism implies the God whom they deny. He must exist in order that they may have the distinction of saying to him, " Don't flatter yourself: we do not believe in you." Their imagination affirms him in order that their vanity may have the satisfaction of denying him to his face. But among earnest, thoughtful men real atheism is so rare a bird, that few have ever seen its raven plumage or heard the utter melancholy of its cry. " Man cannot be God's outlaw if he -would ; Nor so abscond him in the caves of sense But nature shall still search some crevice out With messages of splendor from that source Which soar he, dive he, baffles still and lures." CONCERNING GOD. 79 Even the would-be materialist, of the most un- qualified stamp, who insists that there is but one substance in the world, and that this one sub- stance is matter, only succeeds in spelling the name of his deity with six letters instead of three : M-a-t-t-e-r, instead of G-o-d. For, as Tyndall long ago declared, " If life and thought are the very flower of matter, any definition of matter which omits life and thought must be inadequate if not untrue." " No man has seen God at any time," says the New Testament. And this is just as true of him if you spell his name with six letters as if you spell it with three. No man has seen Matter at any time. Emerson is hardly less God-intoxicated than Spinoza, and yet his saying, " The divinity is in the atoms," is only a more poetic and impressive form of Biichner's suicidal confession that matter as such has ** a tendency to combine." The silence of some men concerning God seems to me vastly more reverent than the gar- rulity of others. Here a nameless thought, and there a multitude of words. Thoreau's idea, 80 THE FAITH OF REASON. about atheism being comparatively popular with God, was also Plutarch's, who expressed it with greater fulness. " I, for my own part," he said, " had much rather men should say that there is not, and never was, any such person as Plutarch, than that they should say Plutarch is an un- steady, fickle, froward, vindictive, and touchy fellow." And so he inferred that God would rather have men deny his existence, than speak of him as unsteady, fickle, and so on. But then Plutarch was a pagan, and had pagan deities in mind. Christians would not, perhaps, be open to such criticism. They never represent their God as unsteady, fickle, or vindictive. Certainly not! But Plutarch's simile assumes that God is not the actual of the popular ideal. Were he the actual of Calvin's, I can fancy he would still appreciate the refusal of a man to believe him to be this, at its just value, even as a mortal man, although a conscious knave, would still appreci- ate a neighbor's misplaced confidence in his veracity and honor.' Meantime, in my humble judgment, there is more of real reverence in * CONCERNING GOD. 8 1 six lines of Goethe than in all the creeds of all the sects : — " Him who dare name And yet proclaim, Yes, I believe ? Who that can feel His heart can steel To say, I disbelieve ? " ** Can man by searching find out God?" asks the Old Testament ; and the New Testament of modern science repeats the question with an accent of yet deeper sadness. But our case is not so pitiful as it would be if God did not find us out whether we search for him or no. The most that all our searching does is generally to find, not God, but some excuse or reason for the ineradicable faith in him which is im- planted in the most of us so deeply that I do not wonder that many have mistaken it for a primitive datum of consciousness. I doubt if any man ever consciously argued himself, or was argued into any real faith in God, — into aught more than some skin-deep belief in him. Faith in God is literally " the faith that is in us." How came it there? By supernatural revelation, says 82 THE FAITH OF REASON. the supernaturalist. But revelation presupposes a revealer. Faith in a revelation presupposes faith in God. For the message to be sent, there must be a sender. For the message to be com- pletely trusted, it must be impossible for God to lie. Moreover, with the advance of knowledge it becomes more and more unlikely that there has ever been any such thing as supernatural reve- lation. The genesis of the belief, common to all religions, is easily accounted for without the inter- vention of a single supernatural fact. The argu- ment of Hume : " It is more likely that evidence should be false than that a miracle should be true," has never yet been proved fallacious, and grows in strength as men more clearly recognize that evidence, in order to be false, need not be consciously so. To evade the force of this argu- ment by admitting that the miracle is natural, is to discharge the miracle of all authoritative sig- nificance. It must be supernatural in order to be invested with a divine authority. But if *' the faith which is in us " — in the most of us, surely — did not come by revelation, how does it CONCERNING GOD. 83 come? Theodore Parker used to say by con- sciousness. But the philosophers assure us that we can be conscious only of the affections of our mind. We cannot be conscious of that by which they are affected. Consciousness of God is then impossible. Again, it is affirmed, that " the faith which is in us " is an intuition. But what is an intuition? A necessary truth, answers the transcendentalist, — a necessary truth perceived by the reason without any assistance from the understanding. But intuitions of this sort do not enjoy the high repute to-day which they did formerly. It begins to be doubted whether there are any such intuitions ; whether the mind can be split up into reason and understanding, or, at least, whether — to parody a saying of Herbert Spencer's — " expression is feature in the mak- ing " — the understanding is not reason in the making. The philosophy of experience inclines to the opinion that even '* necessary truths " are discovered to be such by observation and experi- ment and reflection, that they do not inhere in mind as such. This philosophy also talks of 84 THE FAITH OF REASON. intuitions, but its intuitions are not like those of the transcendentaHst, — a kind of super-ratio7ial revelation privately communicated to each indi- vidual soul. They are the products of ances- tral and race-experience organized in us. Our faith in God, then, is an intuition, — the flower of an hereditary experience, whose roots are buried in an immemorial past. Thanks for its beauty and its fragrance, as it opens in the hushed seclusions of our hearts ! But evidently an intuition of this sort, a product of experience, can have no such authority as would the intu- ition of the transcendentaHst if this were all which it was formerly conceived to be. Some, indeed, may be so constituted that they can enjoy the great inheritance on which they enter here, without ever thinking or wondering how it came to them, and whether it is lawfully theirs. The majority are, in fact, so constituted. But there are not a few who, once they know that the faith which is in them is no supernatural gift, no organic necessity, but an inheritance from the past, must set about to find the title-deeds, must CONCERNING GOD. 85 know, if possible, how the estate was earned; what work was done, what battles fought, before it was entailed to them. This is the meaning of a world of patient study in these latter days into the origin and development of men's religious ideas. Tylor, and Spencer, and Coulange, and Lubbock, and the rest, what are they but patient searchers of our title-deeds, in order that we may know whether our right is indefeasible in this estate of faith in God which has come down to us from immemorial times ? Honor to those who, finding themselves unable to make out their title to their own satisfaction, vacate the premises ; albeit for them to do so is to go forth like Abra- ham, not knowing whither ! For such also, believe me, there is " a city that hath foundations." But happy they who dare believe that their inherit- ance, however dubious the title of their remotest ancestors, has in the course of centuries been fairly earned ; and that, when superstition's every lien upon it has been discharged, it will still be ample for the free soul to revel and rejoice in, without fear of any interdict of science or any 86 THE FAITH OF REASON. challenge that the lords of reason can oppose to her possession ! It cannot be denied that an element of un- reality enters very largely into the primitive idea of God, if the genesis of this idea has been cor- rectly made out by the most learned anthro- pologists and sociologists. There are those who think that when the genesis of this idea has been shown to be involved in misconceptions almost innumerable, the idea has itself been relegated to the sphere of childish superstition. If the phenomena of sleep and trance first suggested to mankind the idea of '* an inner man" — a soul; if the analogy of sleep and death suggested that the soul was still alive when its '' last sleep " had settled on the body ; if the ancestral ghosts thus arrived at, from being at first regarded as mere human ghosts to be invoked, placated, and so on, came at length to be regarded as gods, the ghost-food passing over into sacrifice, the invo- cations into prayers; if, further on, stones and trees, then clouds, and heat and cold, and wind, and sun and moon and stars, — all came to be CONCERNING GOD. 8/ regarded as the seats of ghostly power ; if this is a correct interpretation of the phenomena of primitive reHgion, does not the idea of God en- gendered in this ghostly atmosphere become itself as "thin as a ghost"? How from the midst of so much unreality could ever come by any legitimate process the idea of that Supreme Reality which we of modern times mean to sug- gest as often as we speak of God? My answer is that, if the beginning of the God- idea was such as I have tried to indicate, — and I believe that it was so, — we ought not to con- found the essence of the feeling out of which it came with their rational psychology with which it was associated. The essence of the feeling was a sense of the mysteriousness of human life. That which oppressed the primitive man with awe and wonder was essentially the same fact before which our latest science stands abashed, — the connection between mind and body. It was the mystery attaching to the thought of ghostly ancestors, peopling the forest-haunts with shadowy denizens, that made it possible for the 88 THE FAITH OF REASON. sentiment of worship to go out to them from the poor savage heart ; and, however trivial the psy- chology, the mystery was real enough ; so that to say that the first step in the evolution of the God-idea was unreal is to mistake its formal ac- cident for its essential character. And so, fur- ther along, grant that the indwelling life ascribed to tree or stone, which constituted these objects fetiches, or to sun and moon and stars in the next stage, which we call nature-worship ; grant that this indwelling life was made up, to the imagination of the savage, of one or more of the great company of ghosts which, by this time had quite forgotten, as it were, their human relations, — the fact remains that, antecedent to this theory of ghostly life, there must have been the sense of life to be accounted for. What the savage did was to account for it by the only life with which he felt himself to be acquainted. His intentions were excellent. He thought he was proceeding from the known to the unknown. In the strictest sense, it may be said that the God- idea was not fairly born until the world of ghosts CONCERNING GOD. 89 had gradually become a vast mysterious realm of life, an incalculable store of energy on which the savage mind could draw in order to account for any natural phenomenon that appealed to it for a solution of the mystery of its seeming life. The key of his position, meanwhile, was his sense of seeming life to be accounted for. The god he really worshipped was this seeming life. His ghostly explanation was, no doubt, entirely in- sufficient. But it was not his explanation that he worshipped. It was the seeming life which he endeavored to explain. The next step beyond nature-worship in the development of the God-idea was polytheism; the worship of many gods, not in objective forms as in fetichism and nature-worship, but as imagi- nary beings, whose genesis is to be accounted for in various ways. As the phenomena of nat- ure and society were rudely classified, a single spirit was imagined as the controlling deity of each separate class. The choice of this deity was variously determined. '* To him that hath shall be given," was a controlling principle. As the big 90 THE FAITH OF REASON. fish eat up the little ones, so the big gods de- voured their smaller rivals. The favorite gods of nature-worship became the gods of poly- theism, to the exclusion of their less significant companions. Another source of income to the polytheistic pantheon was the apotheosis of dis- tinguished chiefs, warriors, medicine-men, and so on, for whom the attributes of the nature- myths had a remarkable affinity. But in this polytheistic stage of the God-idea the noticeable thing is this, that what was really worshipped was the hidden life which was the background of phenomenal existence. The gods of poly- theism were but so many explanations of this life, then the most reasonable that could be had. But the real object of worship was the hidden life; the. Power that made the trees wave and the waters flow, the sun and moon and stars to shine, the earth to rise out of her wintry grave clad in the spring-time beauty. The only unre- ality was in the explanation. The mystery which polytheism endeavored to explain was a bond fide mystery. It might well make men's hearts CONCERNING GOD. 9 1 tremble with fear, or swell with rapture, or dilate with joy. From polytheism, the worship of many gods, to monotheism, the worship of one, was the next step in the development of the God-idea. Here also the principle, " To him that hath shall be given," had, no doubt, great influence. The favorite god tended to be the only one, little by little crowding the others from their thrones. Different tribes had different favorites, and the strongest tribe demanded exclusive worship for its deity, and was able to enforce the claim. Natural selection operated here as in the physi- cal world. There was a struggle for existence, and a preservation of the fittest; the fittest here not meaning the best, but, as often in the physical world, only the strongest, the ablest to survive. Midway between polytheism and mon- otheism we have monolatry, the exclusive wor- ship of one deity without denying the existence of others. But gods not worshipped cease to be regarded as realities. The god exclusively worshipped tends to be the only god to whom 92 THE FAITH OF REASON. existence is allowed. And hence a monotheistic God-idea. At this stage of development, as at every earlier, it must be admitted that there are elements of unreality involved in every step of the advance. But here again, as at every previous stage, the unreality was in the explanation, not in the thing explained. The real object of worship here, as before, was the mystery of Hfe behind phe- nomena. The dawning sense of unity in these, the beginning of all science and philosophy, sug- gested the unity of the underlying mystery. I grant you that the monotheistic god was at first dreadfully anthropomorphic : " a non-natural man," " a man of war ; " to the Semite a Be- douin sheik at first, and then a king, — the earthly monarchy always tending to produce a heavenly counterpart in human thought. But, again, the noticeable thing is that the real object of awe and wonder and worship was not the man-like deity, — that he was not reverenced and worshipped for his man-likeness, but as the mysterious Power adequate to produce the world CONCERNING GOD. 93 of nature and humanity. The man-Hkeness was a necessity of childish thought, of undevelop- ment, of survival in culture; but it could not successfully impeach the reality of the Mysterious Power of which it was the concrete symbol, nor the reality of the worship honestly accorded to this Power. With the development of monotheism, the God-idea reaches its highest point of evolution, except as this idea once generated is capable of indefinite purification. And the most notable feature in this process is the transference of man's awe and wonder from the exceptional in his ex- perience to the regular and orderly. From the lowest fetich-worshipper up to the average Chris- tian monotheist of this nineteenth century, the most potent suggestions of deity have come from the apparently exceptional and abnor- mal. The disposition of the untutored savage to choose for his fetich the most grotesque ob- ject — tree or stone — that he can find, is abso- lutely identical with the disposition of the cultured modern Christian to seek for God in 94 THE FAITH OF REASON. some miraculous interposition rather than in the invariable order of the world, *' staring with won- der to see water turned into wine, and heedless of the stupendous fact of his own personality." So pertinacious has been the resolution of the religious world to find God only in the appar- ently abnormal and inconsequent, that, by force of association, it came at length to be regarded as an axiom that, if God is not a sort of " prince of misrule," then he is nothing. Parallel with the development of religion for hundreds of years, there has been a development of science. But the tendency of science has been to everywhere dissipate the wonder inhering in the apparently abnormal and inconsequent by including them in its generalizations of law and order. Sure of his axiom, *' The more law the less God ; " the religionist has contemplated this process with unqualified dismay. Province after prov- ince has been wrested from the domain of per- sonal agency and annexed to the domain of law, till it has seemed only a question of time whether every vestige of the Deity would not finally be CONCERNING GOD. 95 expelled from the universe. But while, little by- little, the old sense of mystery, inhering in the apparently exceptional and abnormal, has been going out, a new sense of mystery, slowly but surely has been coming in, — a sense of mystery inhering in the uniformities of natural phenom- ena. The more law, the more God — the more mystery, wonder, awe, and trust — has been the growing conviction which has kept pace with this development. ** As fast as science transfers more and more things from the category of irregularities to the category of regularities, the mystery that once attached to the superstitious explanation of them becomes a mystery attach- ing to the scientific explanation of them ; there is a merging of many special mysteries in one general mystery." ^ " So that," says Herbert Spencer, " beginning with the germinal idea of mystery which the savage gets from a display of [anomalous] power, . . . and the germinal sentiment of awe accompanying it, the progress is towards an ultimate recognition of a mystery 1 Spencer's Study of Sociology, p. 310. g6 THE FAITH OF REASON. behind every act and appearance, and a transfer of the awe from something special and oc- casional to something universal and unceasing ; " which something is the infinite God of scientific faith. If now I have accomplished my purpose, I have made it plain that no unreality attaching to the earliest development of religion, or to any subsequent stage, has prejudiced the value of the God-idea in its present form or indeed in any form it has assumed from the beginning of its long and painful march from puerile animism up to the glorious consciousness of One who, " be he what he may, Is yet the fountain light of all our day, Is yet the master-light of all our seeing." This has been proved by showing that, at every stage, a bond fide mystery has been involved in the idea ; and that the real object of awe and rev- erence and worship has been this mystery, and not the explanation of it, varying with every stage of culture. CONCERNING GOD. 97 How then? Do I erect an altar "to the un- known God," and bid you come and worship? I answer Yes and No. " Unknown and yet well known " is a Pauline phrase with which we may complement the inscription which the apostle found on the Athenian altar. Unknown and yet well known I A friend suggests to me, " The Sum of the Unknown " as the best possi- ble definition of God, a definition which neither defines nor confines. Such a definition would indefinitely postpone the advent of atheism ; for, though "the sum of the unknown" is being steadily abridged by the discoveries of science, there is no immediate danger of its being wholly conquered and annexed to the domain of knowl- edge. And then, too, while " the sum of the unknown " is always growing * smaller, it is always growing larger to our apprehension. The more we know, the better do we realize what realms of mystery, still unexplored, chal- lenge our patience and our courage. But, remote as is the possibility, I do not relish the idea that, if we could know every thing, we could 98 THE FAITH OF REASON. write God's epitaph ; that the increase of knowl- edge is a gradual elimination of the unknown quantity, God, from the equation of our thought and feeling. Moreover, the unknown which has elicited the awe and reverence of men's hearts has never been a simple negative. It has been wonderful to them and awful and reverend as the mysterious background of something known or felt to be so. And, with the advance of science, what makes the ever vaster ampli- tude of the unknown so quickening to our awe, our gladness, and our trust, is that the little we do know is so wonderful, so marvellous ; and we proceed to people all the vast unknown with the benignant forms and forces which have been openly revealed to us. It is as when I stand upon the rocky headlands of my native shore, and look out upon that " glorious mirror where the Almighty's form glasses itself in tempests." " Eastward as far as the eye can see. Eastward, eastward, endlessly, The sparkle and tremor of purple sea." CONCERNING GOD. 99 Surely what fills me with a joy so keen that it is almost pain is not alone the flashing tumult of the great expanse of waters ; it is also that, beyond where sky and water meet, with my mind's eye I see the mighty ocean reaching on and on, and beautiful with the same unspeaka- ble beauty as the little space that lies within my field of vision. It is the beauty of the known that makes the beauty of the unknown so sure and so entrancing. And just as surely my soul's ** normal delight in the infinite Goji " is not produced by any purely negative unknown. No more is it by any positive known. No, but by my warrantable conviction that all the in- finite unknown is equally with the little territory which I know the haunt of nameless beauty, order, symmetry, and law. And so to those among us, and they are not few, who are en- deavoring to convince us that a purely negative mystery, an absolute unknown, is adequate to all the functions of a God whom we may rever- ence and adore, I answer in the words of Eng- land's greatest living theologian: ''Far be it lOO THE FAITH OF REASON. .; " from us to deal lightly with the sense of mys- \ " tery. It mingles largely with all devout appre- I " hension, and is the great redeeming power that j " purifies the intellect of its egotism and the heart \ " of its pride. But you cannot constitute a reli- '* gion out of mystery alone, any more than out of '' knowledge alone, nor can you measure the re- ■ - ' latipn of doctrines to humility and piety by the ; " mere amount of conscious darkness that they i " leave. All worship, being directed to what is j ** above us and transcends our comprehension, ^pectation of the creation longeth for the mani- festation of the sons of God." Good science that ! Good evolution ! And when this mani- festation has at length been consummated, I dare believe that Nature will somehow secure her work, henceforth her conscious workman, against any loss of that which is the crown of her re- joicing. " The mighty energy that is enwrapped ** in the human will, the indomitable sense of " duty that tramples down tempting pleasures, 154 THE FAITH OF REASON. " and impels man to conflict and self-sacrifice " for the right, the wealth of love that he lavishes " and that no limit of years exhausts, the un- ** satisfied spirit within him, for ever peering " over the barriers of knowledge in search of " new realms of truth : — as these testify to a " past eternity which has been used in producing " them, so do they point forward to a future " eternity, which they are to use as conscious " creative forces in the universe of God." ^ Another positive element in support and confirmation of our indefeasible hope inheres in the concomitance of such a hope with all that is most beautiful and noble in our intellectual and moral life. For in the natural order of events I hold that nothing is more certain than that the hope of immortality is organized in us more definitely by every higher thought, or nobler act, or purer purpose of our lives. It is not as if we went about deliberately to make our hope more eager, but it is made more eager in the natural order of our lives, just in pro- 1 Rev. William J. Potter. CONCERNING IMMORTALITY. 155 portion as we seek great ends, live for the im- perishable things of truth and righteousness. Can it be possible that there is "such a contra- diction at the inmost heart of things, that every higher thought, or nobler act, or purer purpose, tends to immerse us deeper in a terrible illusion? Are not a thousand and ten thousand voices of science blending to assert the solidarity of universal nature and life? Can there be con- tradiction and confusion only here where life reaches its highest level, or must there be some " pre-established harmony " between our hope and some sublime reality? If the almost in- variable concomitant of the noblest living is this glorious hope, then unless Nature is divided against herself, does not this almost invariable concomitance suggest with overwhelming seri- ousness that the same power which organizes in us the purest splendors of our thought and love organizes in us the hope of an immortal life, in which these splendors shall go on and on from glory to glory. Here is an element so positive in confirmation of our hope that at 156 THE FAITH OF REASON. times it seems to me to have the force of scien- tific demonstration. But let us keep clearly within bounds. " No demonstration, but a hope/' says Dr. Bartol. It is best so. It must be if God is good, or, as the agnostic might prefer to phrase it, if the universe is sane. If demonstration had been best, then demonstration woyld have been the order of the day. **No demonstration, but a hope." But once sure of our hope, once sure that it is indefeasible, as we can be negatively from the total inability of science to express our consciousness in physical terms, and positively, because all force is indestructible, because nat- ural selection becomes voluntary in us, and because this hope is the almost invariable con- comitant of our highest spiritual life, — once sure of our hope and we can leave it free to be ex- panded, purified, ennobled by all our various intellectual and moral and affectional life. The more wonderful the realization of this hope appears to us, the more reasonable will it appear at the same time ; such being the average make CONCERNING IMMORTALITY. 1 57 of things, that the more wonderful any thing is, so it be truly wonderful, the more likely is it to be true. We need not go about to nurse the fibre of our hope with wilful energy. We have only to live a rich and full and loving and har- monious life, and every stream from every height will swell this rushing river, and fertilize its banks with tenderer and more fragrant flowers. Reading great books, hearing great music, seeing great pictures, it will seem quite impossible to us that the creators of these things should not outlast their works. But these achieve a sort of immortality, as members of " the choir invisible, whose music is the glad- ness of the world." Shakspere and Homer are more alive and regnant now than when they were in the body, thanks to their literary monu- ments. But you and I have known men and women, the latchets of whose sandals Homer and Shakspere were not worthy to unloose: they were so pure and true. They leave behind them neither books nor paintings, but none the less our hope of immortality is nourished at the stainless fount of their immeasurable con- 158 THE FAITH OF REASON. secration. We cannot make them dead. We stand beside their silent forms and look upon their faces. How like our friends, and yet how infinitely different ! Where is that " mysterious companion " whose absence makes this infinite difference? We cannot say, but standing there, our hope that somehow, somewhere, it survives, a conscious individual life, receives immense acceleration. I say not that at such times I am certain of immortality. But what I say is, that at such times \feel as certain of it as of my own existence. I have known men and women whose real death was an unthinkable proposition; as much so as a square circle or the meeting of two parallel lines. Might not our own be so to us, if we should live the truest and divinest life we know? Doubtless to some of you the hope for which I plead will seem a thin and colorless abstrac- tion. But so that you do not forget that you are hoping, not affirming, you can fill out my meagre outline as completely as you choose, and your hope will have the same validity that any imaginative presentation of the other world CONCERNING IMMORTALITY. 1 59 has ever had. For every such presentation has been without authority. Shall we meet our friends? Shall we know them? Shall we be with them? Religious sentiment has answered all these questions according to our heart's desire. But the answers are without any war- rant of the Bible or the creeds. Not a syllable did Jesus lisp concerning any of these things. Only remember that you are hoping, not affirming, and you may hope as bravely as you like; ay, even as I do, that " sudden the worst turns the best to the brave ; The black minute's at end, And the elements' rage, and the voices that rave, Shall dwindle, shall blend. Shall change, shall become first a peace, then a joy, Then a light, then thy breast, O thou soul of my soul ! I shall clasp thee again, And with God be the rest ! " And yet I would that all of us might hold our hope of immortality in strict subordination to our faith in the eternal Power who worketh all things well. The ideal attitude is reached when we can say in our Gethsemanes of lone- liness and grief, when we have hoped our hope l60 THE FAITH OF REASON. of immortality with the utmost tenderness and passion of our souls, " Nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt." Our relation to the idea of immortality reaches its highest form, its purest possible religiousness, when it arrives at this. This is the supreme self-sacrifice. The depth of our desire measures the height of our self-abnegation. Well may our barks sink, if to this deeper sea ! When, hope as you will, you can trust every thing to the Eternal, then does the peace that passes understanding overflow your heart with its ineffable serenity. And can you not trust every thing to him when you consider all the ordered beauty and benefi- cence of his manifest life? Hope then, dear friends, as grandly as you will, but still more grandly trust. " We men, who in our morn of youth defied The elements, must vanish. Be it so ! Enough if something from our hands have power To live and act and serve the future hour ; And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower. We feel that we are greater than we knew.''' January 26, 1879. CONCERNING PRAYER. - TT 7HETHER the function of prayer is an obsolete superstition, or still adequate in one form or another to the demands of sci- entific truth and rational religion, is a question of such serious and almost painful import that one does not approach it without hesitation and anxiety, lest he should think or speak of it mis- leadingly. But it is a question which is en- grossing so largely the attention of the more thoughtful part of every civilized community, that the teacher of religion is hardly permitted to excuse himself from speaking of it to his habitual congregation in such fashion as he may. Meantime the great majority of religious people. Christian and others, are not afflicted with any doubt or hesitation in regard to this important matter. A perfect confidence in the 1 62 THE FAITH OF REASON. efficacy of prayer is the prevailing mood; aiid between objects for which it is admissible to pray and objects for which it is not, the average mind makes no distinction. Material commodi- ties and spiritual benefits jostle each other in the petitions of the devout believer ; the former coming in for their full share of urgency, es- pecially if we reckon under this head, as in strict propriety we should, the comforts and felicities of a prospective state of being. And if the ultimate test of any form of creed or con- duct is the warrant of antiquity, and particularly of that segment of antiquity which is reported in the Jewish and early Christian scriptures included in the Bible, then it must be confessed that all the argument is on the side not only of prayer, but of prayer in every possible form, for every conceivable object. There is no selfish- ness or crudity or indelicacy or mechanism or audacity of modern prayer which cannot find some prototype in the most ancient times, in the Bible or out of it, and in the theory and practice of the most conspicuous teachers of CONCERNING PRAYER. 1 63 religion. The earliest prayers of which we have any knowledge are frank requests for grain and cattle, for a numerous progeny, — now seldom prayed for* or desired, — for success in war and rapine, for defence against disease and poverty and death. Oftenest the prayer was a propitia- tion of a malicious or offended deity, or an attempt to bribe one deity to interfere and thwart the malevolent intentions of another. In Homer and Virgil, the suppliants are on the alert to get the strongest god upon their side. To this end, they coax him and flatter him, appeal to his pride, threaten him, and so on. In the same way, the gods pray to each other. We see Jupiter and his ox-eyed Juno arrayed on different sides, haggling with and plotting against each other. Where, as among the Hebrews, polytheism had a tribal root, there was the same endeavor to engage the help of the most potent deity. And Jacob vowed a vow saying, " If Jehovah will be with me and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat and raiment to put on, then l64 THE FAITH OF REASON, shall Jehovah be my God." The spirit here evinced is that of the free and independent voter determined to cast his vote for that can- didate who will pay the most for it. The worshipper is resolved to put his prayer, as the congressman his money, where it will do the most good. We find Moses sayiilg to Je- hovah substantially, " Shame on you ! what will the gods of the other nations and their retainers think of you, if you do thus and so?" There was once a New England farmer who affirmed that he had prayed in the corner of every lot upon his many-acred farm, — prayed that the Lord would punish his enemies. A great many of the Old Testament prayers are of this sort. The psalms especially abound in them. " Elias prayed earnestly that it might not rain, and it did not rain for the space of three years and six months." The prayer of Elijah brought down fire from heaven to burn wood and to lick up water. In the New Testament it is written, "All things whatsoever ye ask in prayer, be- lieving, ye shall receive." That is very com- CONCERNING PRAYER. 1 65 prehensive. Of course the word " believing " furnishes a convenient loop-hole for the modern pietist to back out of. When the prayer is not answered, we are assured it is because of un- belief. So with James's assertion, " The prayer of faith shall, save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up." Within a few years, there have been legal proceedings against a sect in Eng- land called the Peculiar People, who practised this method as a substitute for medical treat- ment. Again, it is promised in the New Testa- ment, " If two of you shall agree on earth, as touching any thing they shall ask, it shall be done for them by my father who is in heaven." Hence the concentric fire of prayers at stated seasons. Hence the suggestion, a few years ago, that all the churches should pray for the appearance of a fiery cross in heaven on a cer- tain night, in attestation of the truth of certain dogmas of religion. The longer-headed has- tened to prevent such an arrangement. But the logic of the situation entirely justified it. Prayer and the dogma being what men claim, the deity 1 66 THE FAITH OF REASON, would have been in honor bound to make the cruciform display. Once more, we have in the New Testament the parable of the unjust judge, who, though he would not hear the woman because of the justice of her cause, did finally hear her '' because of her importunity." Here is the Biblical excuse for the persistent praying of the modern pietist, for the idea that God can be tired out and compelled to give in if the petitioner does not give out. • Said I not truly, then, that if the ultimate test of any form of creed or conduct is the warrant of antiquity, and particularly the warrant of the Bible, there is no boldness or crudity or mech- anism or audacity of modern prayer that can- not find this warrant? Let us say it frankly: The man who does not go behind the Bible, who does not feel at liberty to question any state- ment it contains, to whom it is the final court of appeal, who regards its every verse and chapter as the direct inspiration of the Al- mighty, — such a man is perfectly consistent in praying for any temporal commodity, for the CONCERNING PRAYER. 16/ suspension of any physical law, in arranging such a concentric fire against the stony heart of God as shall break down its walls of adamant, and enable the besieging army to rush in and rifle all the treasure of its love, and drench itself with all the wine of its dear pity. Such a man has not only Bible warrant for these modes of prayer, he has the warrant of the universal Christian tradition. Montalembert, a most learned and pious Roman Catholic, says that prayer is stronger than omnipotence. It can compel God. He cannot resist the entreaties of his saints. There is a remarkable passage in the writings of Martin Luther, in which his prayers and their successful outcome are described in the terms of a tremendous physical encounter, in which, having got uppermost, he, Luther, pummels his antagonist until he cries for mercy, and promises to concede every thing that is asked for. Of late, the air has rung with blas- phemies ; but no approach has yet been made to this appalling illustration of the invincibility of prayer. 1 68 THE FAITH OF REASON. But it win be allowed, at least by all Protes- tants, that, were the Bible, warrant wanting, these later manifestations would not be of much ac- count. The Bible warrant is the stronghold of the .popular philosophy of prayer. If we cannot go behind the Bible, if there is no higher court of reason to which we may appeal from its posi- tions, if it is proper to regard it as literally and infallibly the word of God, — then is the popular philosophy of prayer worthy of all acceptance and of the freest application. But these ifs are tremendous. You all know very well -that the Bible has a natural history, and that this natural history is such as to bring every doctrine it contains to the bar of reason and discredit it if a verdict of " not true " is rendered there. It is no longer permissible for any intelligent person to engage in any line of conduct or belief simply and only because it has Biblical warrant, seeing that for the most part we are ignorant as to when the different parts of the Bible were written, and by whom they were written. Manifestly, it is a gratuitous CONCERNING PRAYER, 169 Stultification of one's self to accord to writings of this description any other authority than they possess in virtue of their intrinsic rationality. For the same reason, we should let no reverence for the personal character of Jesus, or zeal for his infallibility, affect our judgment of beliefs that bear his superscription in the record, see- ing that there is not a sentence in the Bible of which we can be absolutely sure that Jesus uttered it. Paint the result of criticism an inch thick with subterfuges, and to this favor it must come. The question then arises, to be answered upon purely rational grounds. What functions of prayer, if any, are still valid ? It is of no use to say that this fruit of prayer is so fine that it disdains the handling of argument, that by such handling all its delicate bloom is worn away and all its beauty marred. The question has been forced upon us by the development of scientific thought. It is of no use to pretend indiffer- ence. We cannot feel it. " He that doubteth is damned, if he eat!' I JO THE FAITH OF REASON. " The doubt that saps the life Is doubt half-crushed, half-veiled ; the lip-assent Which finds no echo in the heart of hearts." But, first of all, I must insist that the validity of prayer is not involved in the validity of the popular conception of the nature of prayer. If it were, there would be no more praying possi- ble for me. For the popular conception of prayer, the average theological conception, involves a miracle in every answered prayer. Prayer thus conceived is the human side of special provi- dence. In every instance of successful prayer, the deity is supposed to interfere with, to sus- pend, the orderly procedure of the universe. The rational religionist contends that no suffi- cient evidence has yet been produced of any such suspension, of any such interference. The popular religionist, the conservative theologian, in dealing with this matter, habitually confounds the fact, sometimes indubitable, that prayers are answered with the inference that God interferes to answer them. But that a prayer is answered, or, to speak more strictly, that the thing prayed CONCERNING PRAYER. 171 for comes to pass, is no sufficient evidence that God has suspended the orderly procedure of the universe on our behalf Let us suppose that there are instances where, if we could be certain that the thing which comes to pass would not have come to pass but for our prayer, to infer divine interference would be inevitable. Such instances are prayers involving a wide circle of phenomena, as, for example, prayers for rain, or for abundant harvests, or for immu- nity from storms at sea, or for the cessation of a pestilence. To be certain in such instances that prayer was answered — that is, that it had pro- duced the desired effect — would, let us suppose, be equivalent to a certainty that God had inter- posed to bring about the state of things desired. For though in some of these instances a certain reflex influence of prayer is possible, as in the matter of the harvest or the pestilence, it could not be to any great extent. The conditions of the problem would remain comparatively undis- turbed. In the case of rain or storms at sea, the possibility of reflex action is eliminated alto- 1/2 THE FAITH OF REASON. gether. Here, then, absolute certainty that but for the prayer the thing desired would not have come to pass, would be, let us suppose, absolute certainty that God had interposed to answer it. But absolute certainty in' a matter of this sort is something that can never be attained. Suppose it should not rain from now till next September, and that then one great concentric prayer for rain, rain, should go up from millions of parched lips, storming the ear of heaven with wildly passionate entreaty, and even while the prayers were straining up, the blessed moisture should begin to fall upon the thirsty fields and the im- ploring hands of agonized devotion. If the rain came because of the prayer, we would allow that God had interposed to answer it. We would waive all consideration of '' the chemico-vital forces set loose by an earnest prayer." We would give God the glory. But how could we feel absolutely certain, even in such a case, that the blessing came in answer to the prayer ; that it might not have come if there had been no prayer at all ? And if we could not feel certain CONCERNING PRAYER. 1 73 in such a case, what certainty is possible, when no instance is on record a thousandth part so crucial in its character as this? And so with every similar experiment. How be sure that the storm would have engulfed our loved ones but for our prayer, that " the iceberg moving slowly down into the path of traffic " would not have kept " her fatal appointment with the ship " if we had prayed more ardently, that the crop is bountiful or that the pestilence is stayed because of our entreaty? Because we can never be sure of these things, because there may be coincidence instead of cause and effect, we can never be sure of an interfering deity or in other words (those of Professor Tyndall) of " a disturbance of natural law quite as serious as the stoppage of an eclipse, or the rolling of the St. Lawrence up the falls of Niagara." The great majority of " answers to prayer '* are of such a character that even if we allow their claim, — that the thing obtained would not have been but for the prayer, — it does not follow that there has been any suspension of the 174 ^-^-^ FAITH OF REASON. orderly procedure of the universe. We must not forget that .the imagination is a potent factor in the human organism, and that the attitude of expectant attention has immense subjective influence. We are hardly permitted to doubt that '' king's-evil," or scrofula, was really affected by the king's touch, or that the bones of the saints have made rheumatic limbs more pliable. But was the virtue in the ob- jective touch or relic, or in the subjective imagination. A German savant discovered the long-venerated bones of a saint to be those of a donkey, but on this account they had not been a whit less remedial. " Any state of the body earnestly expected," says a learned physi- ologist, "■ is very likely to ensue." There is a man in Belgium whose hands and feet bleed every Friday, as it were from nails driven into them. The priests say it is a miracle like unto the famous stigmata of St. Francis of Assisi. A commission of medical men, appointed by the government, say it is the result of morbid ex- pectation, the whole energy of the victim's CONCERNING PRAYER. 1 75 nature being directed to this end, so flattering to his ecclesiastical pretensions. But this prin- ciple of expectant attention is not now responsi- ble for as many answers to prayer as formerly. There are, however, two celebrated institutions in Germany where patients are treated for various mental and some bodily diseases by prayer, and it is said the cures are many. But as the pa- tients are also treated by fresh air and out-of- door life and pleasant scenery, and have much quiet and no medicine, it may be that the prayers are not the secret of recovery. " It is beyond all question or dispute," said Voltaire, " that magic words and ceremonies are quite capable of destroying a whole flock of sheep, if the words be accompanied by a sufficient quantity of arsenic." How many prayers are answered, too, because men overA\^dx them, not because God hears them. At any rate the over-hedLring is sufficient to ac- count for the result. George Muller's famous charity in England is, according to his represen- tations, which maybe perfectly sincere, supported 1/6 THE FAITH OF REASON. entirely by prayer. But by such an avowal, on his part, people who believe in prayer are put upon their honor not to let the institution lan- guish. It is prayer that is at stake, not merely the institution. If Miiller had kept his method a profound secret, his receipts might not have been so large, but the test of prayer-alone would have been more effectual. There is a consump- tives' home in Boston supported entirely by prayer. It has its contribution boxes in scores of public places, conspicuously labelled with the name and policy of the institution. When a people are wasted with famine, it is not even necessary to overAx^'^x their prayers for succor. It is sufficient for those who can help them to hear of the fact. This is a quite sufficient prayer to them^ which they will answer speedily with ship-loads of food seasoned with the tears of a divine compassion. So, too, the need of cities wrapped in flames, or scourged by -pesti- lence, need not be telegraphed to us by way of heaven. It can come direct. The god in us hears the afflicting story, and responds to it with CONCERNING PRAYER. 1 77 needful sustenance. Oh, there is many a prayer that now goes all unanswered that would be answered speedily if but some man or woman could overhear it! But so many prayers are^ overheard that this element must never be omitted from the problem, Whether the orderly procedure of the universe is ever temporarily suspended in response to our entreaties. Volumes have been written, full of instances which are supposed to favor the affirmative solution of this problem, not one of which is verifiable, but no volume has so far been written, by the advocates of heavenly interference or by anybody else, enumerating the instances in which the prayer has never had the faintest semblance of an answer. The million volumes in the National Library at Paris would not be sufficient to contain such an enumeration. But is it fair that every instance favorable to the doctrine of interference should be counted and every other instance go for naught? I know the posterns by which men escape from this dilemma. They say that the unanswered pray- 178 THE FAITH OF REASON. ers were not ardent enough, or persistent enough, or something of that sort. But any one must be stone-bHnd not to perceive that here we have an arbitrary excuse for a foregone con- clusion. I must confess that there is something horri- ble to me in men's assurance that God has interfered to save their lives, their property, their friends, but has not interfered to save the lives, the property, the friends of other people. It was a special providence that they did not sail upon the missing steamer. What was it, then, for all who did sail, and came back no more? Might God have interfered to save that freight of precious lives, and did not, per- haps because the requisite amount of prayers was not forthcoming. No, no ! God does not interfere : the comfortable, the blessed thought is that he cannot interfere. He cannot or he would. I stake my faith in him on this asser- tion. He suffers no restraint but that of his own infinite perfection. But, thanks to this, one shattered train, one sinking wreck offsets CONCERNING PRAYER. 1 79 all the "imaginary interferences that have ever been recorded, and remands them at once and for ever to the province of coincidence or over- hearing or exaggeration. Of what avail the baby-house suggestion, that God, anticipating human prayer, left certain openings in the net- work of his laws through which he can reach out handfuls of benefits and immunities, — winds out of some iEolian cave, or showers of needed rain, and quiet of the sea or of the heart? Law is an armor so compact that there is not a joint which any interfering touch can penetrate. In the material universe, there is not a space as big as a pin-head for an interfering god to stand upon. The ground is everywhere preoccupied by those persistent habits of the deity which we call laws, — habits which are not a second nature, as we say of ours, but his first and only nature, his essential quality. To pray for so much in- terference as would quell one coming storm, or squeeze one rain-drop out of a reluctant cloud, is to pray that the entire history of the universe up to date may be revised, and that God may l80 THE FAITH OF REASON. change the essence of his nature with a view to our imaginary comfort or advantage. There are those who say, in answer to all this, that the so-called laws of nature are only our subjective formulas; that is to say only our classification of such facts as have already come within our ken. It does not follow that there are not other facts. No, it does not. But never was any attempt to find a foot-hold for the supernatural more unfortunate than this. If the laws of nature were not subjective classifications of the observed facts of nature, if they were so many unalterable formulas known to be inclu- sive of all natural facts, then any fact that did not come within their scope would at once declare itself supernatural. But what makes a miracle impossible, in the sense of a super- natural event, is that the laws of nature, as we call them, are subjective classifications of the observed facts of nature; and the moment we come upon a fact not included in them, we are simply obliged to modify our hitherto unduly narrow conception of the laws of nature, so that CONCERNING PRAYER. l8l they will include the latest fact. " The day-fly," says Professor Huxley, ** has better grounds for calling a thunder-storm supernatural, than has man, with his experience of an infinitesimal fraction of duration, to say that the most as- tonishing event that can be imagined is beyond the scope of natural causes." • And thus the subjective character of the so-called laws of nature, so far from being a back-door through which the supernatural may find its way into "'the house of life," is a mountain-wall which it can never pass. Whatever happens, no matter how wonderful, no matter how unexampled, can only serve to broaden our subjective generaliza- tion of law. It cannot possibly transcend it. And hence it follows that we have been too ready to allow or to suppose that, if it could be proved that but for the prayer A the event B would not have happened, we should have a genuine case of interference. Prove that but for the prayer the drought would not have ceased, and what follows ? That there has been an interference of the deity? Certainly not; 1 82 THE FAITH OF REASON, but only that our formulas of natural law must be extended so as to include prayer, henceforth, among the data of meteorology, an additional element of uncertainty in all our weather calculations. Things being as they are, it is impossible to predicate an interfering deity at any point in the illimitable sweep of prayer, from the early Aryan's frank petition " that we may prosper in getting and keeping" to the most spiritual prayer a Robertson or Channing ever breathed. There are many people who do not demur at this result, so long as it is understood to cover only the material side of prayer, — petition for objective benefits, health, wealth, and safety, and so on, — who, nevertheless, are hurt and troubled, when it is proposed to extend the application to prayer for spiritual benefits, — for peace of mind, for strength of will, for purity of heart. Men pray for purer purposes, for better dispositions, for broader charity, for faithfulness to their ideals of truth and righteousness. That it must be ennobling and exalting to proffer such peti- CONCERNING PRAYER. 1 83 tions no one is likely to deny. If we fall to work and help the deity to answer our petitions, the benefit accruing may be beyond all estimate. But if, refusing to deceive ourselves, we put the question squarely. Does God interfere to answer these petitions any more than those for health, or rain, or victory in battle? we are obliged to answer. He does not. For, in the first place, that reflex action which in prayers for material blessings is sometimes a very doubtful factor, is here an obvious and very potent energy. Such prayers avail not for ourselves alone, but for our friends. I have heard such, and as I listened to their words of tender pleading, all that was worst in me seemed suddenly to lose its power, all that was best to assert a calm superiority. How could I ever sin against those beautiful ideals of truth and holiness which in that mo- ment I had seen ! And I have gone for days in the strength of some such momentary reve^ lation. But there was no need to assume any heavenly interference to account for my access of strength and peace. Is there ever any such 1 84 THE FAITH OF REASON. need ? If roughly, still is it not truly, said, ** You will get a virtue no sooner than a salad for the asking." And if, just for the asking, or for any amount of asking, God does not make us more charitable or just or honest or sincere or pure or kind, ought we to keep on asking him to make us this or that, whatever incidental benefit accrues? We must hot be Hars in our devo- tions. We must not make a show of asking God for this or that, in order that we may econo- mize some reflex influence of our petition. No miracle, no prayer, insists the popular religionist. But it is just as impossible to prove a miracle in the sense of a* suspension of the ordinary course of nature on the spiritual as on the material plane. Prove that the spiritual blessing would not have come without the prayer, and you have proved a relation of co- existence or sequence, of cause and efl'ect ; but you have proved no interference. It never can be proved. Establish any fact, and. immediately Nature adopts it into her universal order, " And gives to it an equal date With Andes or with Ararat." CONCERNING PRAYER. 185 How then? Seeing that no supernatural in- terference ever has been or ever can be proved, on the material or on the spiritual plane, shall we deny in toto the legitimacy of any and of every prayer? Yes, if we accept the would-be axiom of popular religion, — No miracle, no prayer. No, if we do not accept this would-be axiom. And we do not accept it. We deny all miracle, all interference, and* at the same time we affirm the legitimacy and dignity and glory and sufficiency of prayer. But then we do this because we do not define prayer by the inferior- limit. If you insist that pr^er shall be defined by the inferior limit, that it^ shall be begging for favors or immunities or miraculous benefits and nothing else, then, verily, for you there is no legitimate, no rational prayer. But, taken all the ages down, prayer has a million times been something over and above all this. Thousands of prayers which have contained this element of selfishness, this beggar cry, this plea for miracle, have contained something else, and something very 1 86 THE FAITH OF REASON, different. Those of you who have ever studied the development of prayer from the stand- point of evolution know that our modern prayer is the Hneal descendant of ancient sacrifice. Hosea, the prophet, indicates the point of tran- sition, when he calls the spoken praise of God " the calves (that is, the sacrificial calves) of the lips." The psalms of the Old Testament rep- resent prayer in its first remove from sacrifice. And they are not so much an asking as a giving. So with the sacrifices that preceded them and kept thfim company. There were thank-offer- ings as well as peace-offerings among them. Go back still further, b^ck to the genesis^ of prayer, to its pre-natal condition. The earliest form of prayer (or rather of its anticipatory phenomena) was the offering of food to the ancestral ghosts. " Come to your home ! " chaunted the mourners. " It is swept for you and clean; and we are there who loved you ever. And there is rice put for you and water ; come home, come home, come to us again ! " In this pre-natal germ of prayer, there is a hint CONCERNING PRAYER. 1 8/ of its sublimest possibility. There is a rebuke of those who insist that if it is not beggary it is nothing. In this pre-natal germ, it was no asking, but a giving. And it is still no asking, but a giving, at its highest point of evolution; a giving certainly, and if an asking, such an asking as implies no interference of the deity with the orderly procedure of the universe. Prayer is a gift of man to the Eternal. A gift of awe and wonder, reverence, adoration. This is a gift which is appropriate at all times and in all places where it is natural and spontaneous. " That perfect disenthralment which is God '* eludes the trap deliberately set for it, but through " the soul's east window of divine surprise '* flies in without an invitation. " No man can think, nor in himself perceive, Sometimes at waking, in the street sometimes, Or on the hill-side, always unforewarned, , A grace of being finer than himself That beckons and is gone, a larger life Upon his own impinging," — no man can have such an experience as this, — and soon or late it comes to each . and 1 88 THE FAITH OF REASON. all, — without bringing his gift to the altar ; without that thrill of awe, of reverence, of adoration, which is more truly prayer than thousands of petitions which are proffered in the conventional postures of devotion. And I would have you note, that science, which is the inveterate negation of all prayer Jihat looks for heavenly interference, is to the prayer of adora- tion a freshet that inundates all its banks with new occasions for its joy. With Lockyer and Dar- win and Lyell, we cannot think God's thoughts after him, and not rejoice in the eternal order, as men never could in some imaginary rent in its resplendent folds. The prayer which looks for interference in the eternal order is an im- putation of defect. What is this wonderful universe which we inhabit but, as it were, a mighty symphony, into whose melodies and harmonies the Infinite Being has put his whole self, all there is of him ; every part, every atom, every law is drenched with deity, — so full of him that not another particle can be obtruded ? The prayer that looks for interference is a CONCERNING PRAYER, 1 89 prayer for more of God. A universe brimful of him is not enough. Dissipate this pitiful illusion, and every particle that is lost upon the side of interference is saved upon the side of that exquisite rapture which ** accepts the universe " as an unspeakable good. No longer seeking for benefits or immunities from beyond the circle of the immutable law, it finds this law it- self instinct with deity, — better than any possible immunity, of all benefits the best. To see, to accept, to glory in the method and result of universal law, — this is the gift of man's adoring heart to the Eternal. When prayer arrives at such an altitude as this, its words are generally few. When prayer is at its best, it cannot find a voice. " I also am a child, and I Am ignorant and weak ; I look upon the starry sky, And then I must not speak. For all behind the starry sky, Behind the world so broad, Behind men's hearts and souls doth lie The Infinite of God." 190 THE FAITH OF REASON. There is a power not ourselves which makes for order and beauty, as well as a power not ourselves that makes for righteousness. The hearts of those old Hebrew men thrilled at the touch of both. What men's have not in any age or land since man emerged from his primeval brutishness ! There is no danger that the prayer of adoration will ever flicker and go out upon the altar of devotion. The world might be just as wonderful, just as beautiful as it is, and, if man's mind were different, it might stir in him no sense of mystery, it might awaken in him no delight, no transport of enthusiasm, no rapture of thanksgiving. But so long as the world and humanity remain as they are, made for each other, the mind of man, the natural and genetic complement of the material universe, so long will there be that response of the human spirit to the divine which is of the finest essence of prayer. Certainly, the depth and earnestness of the response is largely proportioned to our thoughtfulness ; but, in a universe that is ^ull of visions and of voices, CONCERNING PRAYER. 191 few can so blind or deafen themselves as not to catch some beauty of the one, some music of the other. When the spring comes, as it will so soon, working its blessed transformation, when all the stars in heaven seem out together, when the moon is so white and large that all the stars are dim, when children are born into your homes, when the ineffable mysteries of thought and love entrance your mind and heart, at all such times, and at other times innumer- able, we pray as naturally as we breathe. Our prayer is no task-work, but the spontaneous^ irrepressible, Godward movement of our hearts, their tidal swell obedient to an infinite attractive power. Should anybody ask me what is the use of praying in this way, I might find it very difficult to answer them. But that would not be my fault so much as theirs. If a man asks me why he should enjoy the vision of the moun- tains or the sea, how can I answer him? or if he asks me what is the use -of enjoying these things? As with the parts, so also with the 192 THE FAITH OF REASON. whole. In one sense, there is no use of feeling that rapture in the presence of the All which is the essence of our adoration. Nobody is any. richer for it in gold or land. It pays no dividends. Only the man who kindles with this rapture is infinitely more of a man than one who does not. And what is the use of ever putting this rapture into words, of express- ing it, or trying to express it, though we never can, in hymns and spoken prayers? This also pays no dividends. But then no more does lovers* happy talk. • It is just telling, each the other, over and over again, that which is known already. It is no use, and yet those who, grown to manhood and womanhood, have not done something in this line at one time or another are greatly to be pitied. " I am a man," said Terence, " and nothing human is indifferent to me." In the best sense of the word, that is the most useful which helps me to be most a man, to bring my experience level with my highest possibility of quickened and multiplied consciousness of life's various good. CONCERNING PRAYER. 1 93 And in this sense the glow of adoration, and the poor stammering words in which it tries to body itself forth in hymn or prayer, are second to no other thing in point of use. To the function of adoration let us add the function of thanksgiving. If this could live upon no other food than the sense of a pe- culiar and exclusive care for us by the Omnipo- tent Power, then it might well hunger so for lack of meat as to exhale into the merest ghost of a dead dogma. " Yes, for me, for me He careth," we may still sing, but not as imagining that he is any respecter of j5ersons, that he has any chosen people, any favored child, in all his spacious world. What we are thankful for is, that we are sharers of the universal joy and sorrow of the world. What we are thankful for is, that for all our sorrow and our burden others may be glad and free. The thankful- ness of rational prayer does not inhere in any particular blessings, but in the general make 194 THE FAITH OF REASON. and the great sweep of things, the laws so stern and so inflexible, obedience to which can bring to us such peace and joy. When we think of the beauty of the world, of the work we have to do, of our friendships and our homes, of our thought and the great thinkers who assist it, and of the yearnings and the satisfactions of the moral life, and then of how this little life of ours is only one of many millions which the great central life upholds and cherishes, though we may not " pray reg- ular," any oftener than poor Job Leigh in *' Mary Barton," yet we shall catch ourselves like him speaking a word with God, and thank- ing him at odd hours, simply because we cannot help it, any more than Job could when he had had " a fine day for an out." But words are not the only means of self-expression. Murder will out, and so will thankfulness. Sometimes it makes us literally leap for joy. Sometimes its omen is a sudden rush of tears. Sometimes it makes our wives and children wonder what has happened to us that we are so unusually CONCERNING PRAYER. 1 95 considerate and kind. Sometimes it overflows in little acts of kindness to people we have never seen before and may never see again. To bow the head, to bend the knees, is not a necessary sign of thankfulness. " His port is erect, his face towards heaven," is a more apt description of the man whose heart is full of gratitude to God. No importunity, no prayer? There is a tribe of South Americans who know better than this. They believe their gods are so beneficent that they need ask them for nothing. Nevertheless, they try to express their gratitude to them by simple offerings. As we are of their simple faith, shall we not make their simple habit also ours? Another function of this rational, non-mirac- ulous prayer, which we are endeavoring to understand aright, is aspiration; which is not asking to be made better by any stroke of heavenly interference, but striving to make ourselves better by the slow and patient culture of our every gift. It is the worship of ideal excellence. It declares itself in every effort 196 THE FAITH OF REASON. to secure a body free from weakness or defect, ruddy with health, ahve in every sense to its appropriate impressions ; in every effort to en- large the mind with fuller measures of the truth ; in every practical resolve to make the reign of conscience more intelligent, and our obedience to its mandates more complete. I would not underrate the value of the faintest impulse in the direction of a purer or a better life. But the aspiration which is equivalent to the highest possible capacity of rational prayer must not be confounded with any such impulse, with any momentary wish that we might live more nearly level with our highest possible attainment. Welcome the mountain height or forest depth, the face of man or woman, the poet's thought or mystery of science, that for one moment gives to our horizon infinite expansion ! But there is a function of prayer which is more than any thrill of gladness, any rapture of thanksgiving, any momentary im- pulse of the heart towards what is purest, truest, best. And what is more, unless the worship CONCERNING PRAYER. 1 97 that is all of these goes forth to seek embodi- ment in voluntary act, in habitual life, it cannot be expected often to return and animate our dust. Gladness and thanks and trust and adoration are not for idlers, but for men who work. And so the definition of worship as " divine service," familiar to you all, disappears upon one side only to reappear upon the other. The singing of hymns, the reading of a liturgy, the burning of incense, the making of genuflections, the wearing of one ecclesiastical over-garment rather than another, — there is no divine service in all this, no service of God, unless there is some help for man. Prayer is a life, says Zoroaster ; a persistent habit of the soul. And we must not be satisfied with any lower definition. Our aspiration must not be fitful and inconstant, here and there in some better moment a feeble wish, a make-believe resolve, so flattering to our moral consciousness. Such aspiration is of small account. But when aspiration is a constant and un- wearied habit of the soul; when year in and 198 THE FAITH OF REASON. year out, we seek for the harmonious perfection of our bodies, minds, and hearts, — then doth the Eternal give to his beloved while they sleep: below the deep of consciousness streams into us the divine power. You have heard of the Thibetan praying-machine, a cylinder on which a famous prayer is pasted, kept revolving in a stream of running water. Hardly less mechani- cal, I think, are some of the devices of the modern Christian pietist. " Pray for these thirty-five," said the evangelist to a subordinate, on the morning of my visit to his meeting, and Dr. Deems informs us that one day he prays for all his friends whose names begin with A ; the next day for all whose names begin with B ; and so on through the alphabet. But the Thibetan praying-machine suggests not only the false mechanism of our Christian praying, but also the highest possibility of the most rational prayer that can be offered, for this is realized when the wonderful mechanism of this total life of ours, set in the rushing stream of time and circumstance, the awful current of events, CONCERNING PRAYER. 1 99 revolving there with marvellous rapidity, be- comes itself a prayer inclusive of all others that are worth the making. " The spirit of the living creature is in the midst of the wheels." A prayer' is written upon every tissue of the body, upon every fibre of the brain, upon every drop of red arterial blood, upon every thought and feeling and desire ; and the answer of this prayer of prayers is the response of the total sanity of the universe to the sanity of our total organism. ** Continuing instant in prayer," this is what every true man of us is doing. " Pray without ceasing," this is an injunction which a sound mind in a sound body must perforce obey. Truly there is a God who answers such a prayer as this persistent aspiration, this claim upon the universe of our continuous and total life. But his answer comes to us along no path of interference, but along the grooves of the eternal laws, and so comes very quickly. In town and field, he waits for us in every atom and event, and with rarer gifts than we could ask for, or could even think, responds to our fidelity. 200 THE FAITH OF REASON. I know that there are some of you to whom the most of what I have said thus far, appears quite reasonable and true; but you conceive there is some incongruity between a theory of prayer so transcendental as this of mine, and almost any possible / _ CO 3 CO CD in ?3 5 5 to oo 09 en Cjn 3.! m o 5^ 5 err S2 3a n o D r o o o er g- pi o _* ? 3 ^ n ' 0- f o o B- ft 884194 3 / 11 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY