A STUDENT'S 
 PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 
 
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO 
 DALLAS ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED 
 
 LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA 
 MELBOURNE 
 
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 TORONTO 
 
A STUDENT'S 
 PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM KELLEY WRIGHT, PH.D. 
 
 \ 
 
 ASSISTANT PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN DARTMOUTH 
 COLLEGE, U. S. A. 
 
 SOMETIME INSTRUCTOR IN PHILOSOPHY IN CORNELL 
 UNIVERSITY, U. S. A. 
 
 Nefo gork 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 1922 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1922, 
 By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 Set up and electrotyped. Published February, 1922. 
 
 FERRIS PRINTING COMPANY 
 NEW YORK CITY 
 
 
To 
 
 "The students who elected the courses in the 
 
 History and Philosophy of Religion at Cornell 
 
 University, 1913-1916, and the summers of 
 
 1915 and 1917. 
 
 88531 
 
PREFACE 
 
 THE purpose of this book is to furnish college undergrad- 
 uates and general readers with the necessary data facts and 
 arguments on which they will be able to work out their own 
 philosophy of religion. The book is an outgrowth of lecture 
 courses given at Cornell University from 1913 to 1916. While 
 the majority of the students electing these courses represented 
 the various Protestant denominations, there were a number of 
 Roman Catholics and Jews in each class, and a fair sprinkling 
 of men and women who at any rate believed themselves to be 
 atheists and agnostics. The constituency of the classes led us 
 to be objective and impersonal, to respect one another's 
 opinions and sentiments, and to realize that there are several 
 sides to most religious and philosophical questions. We con- 
 centrated our attention upon the philosophical and psycho- 
 logical study of features common to all the three religious 
 confessions represented ; by so doing, we believed that we were 
 concerning ourselves with those features of religion that 
 probably are most significant. My endeavor never was to 
 influence any one to change his religious affiliations. Whenever 
 a student consulted me privately, I advised him to continue in 
 the religious faith and associations in which he had been 
 brought up, unless he had formed deep and rationally 
 grounded convictions that rendered this impossible, which was 
 very rarely the case. Students frequently urged me to publish 
 the lectures, and I promised to do so. The interruptions of the 
 war, and the necessary concentration of time upon my courses 
 in another institution, in which I do not teach the philosophy 
 and psychology of religion, have prevented an earlier fulfilment 
 of this promise. 
 
 My experience has been, that when an undergraduate elects 
 a course in the philosophy department bearing on religion it 
 is usually for one or more of the following reasons. Either 
 he wants to make up his mind whether or not there is a God, 
 
vi PREFACE 
 
 and if there is a God, what kind of one ; or he is puzzled about 
 the freedom of the will, or the problem of evil ; or he wonders 
 if he has a soul, and whether it is immortal. Very likely he 
 is asking himself whether or not he ought, as an intelligent 
 person, desirous of his own mental and moral advancement 
 and conscious of his social obligations, to become or to remain 
 identified with a church or synagogue. Perhaps he is suspicious 
 that the mechanical and evolutionary conceptions taught in 
 the sciences with which he has become acquainted call seriously 
 into question the truth of whatever religious instruction he 
 has had. Very often, too, he is curious to know something 
 about the different religions of the world. In these days, when 
 almost everybody in college elects psychology, he is pretty 
 sure to be curious about what psychology has to say concern- 
 ing religion. 
 
 For one instructor to treat of all these topics in a single 
 course is a rather large undertaking, especially if he has to 
 devote much of his time to teaching other of the philosophical 
 subjects ordinarily included in an undergraduate curriculum. 
 However, the demand for this kind of a course is genuine, deep 
 and earnest, and philosophy departments ought to meet it. So, 
 though painfully conscious of its inadequacies, I venture to 
 submit this book. While not claiming to be a specialist, I have 
 endeavored everywhere to follow the best authorities and to 
 consult sources as freely as possible. I hope that I have not 
 made too many mistakes. My own opinions on the various 
 topics are frankly stated, but I hope not made obtrusive, or 
 put in a way that will prejudice the reader's judgment, or 
 prevent him from making independent conclusions. 
 
 The literature to which I am indebted is indicated in the 
 notes, and in lists of references appended to the chapters. 
 Those of my teachers whose influence was greatest in the 
 formation of my philosophical and psychological opinions as 
 an undergraduate and graduate student were Professor James 
 H. Tufts and President James Rowland Angell. Other 
 teachers to whom I owe much are Professors A. W. Moore, 
 G. H. Mead, E. S. Ames, and Warner Fite. My views have 
 since become considerably modified under the influence of 
 Professors J. E. Creighton and William McDougall; and, to 
 a less extent, but substantially, by many others in degrees 
 not always proportionate to the length or brevity of my 
 personal contact with them. Among these latter must be 
 
PREFACE vn 
 
 mentioned Professors Frank Thilly, E. B. McGilvary, L. T. 
 Hobhouse, Graham Wallas, Irving King, J. H. Leuba, Dr. 
 F. C. S. Schiller, and Dr. R, R. Marett. Most recently my 
 thought has been colored by contact with Professors W. H. 
 Sheldon and W. M. Urban, who have in succession been col- 
 leagues at Dartmouth College. I owe much to my wife, for 
 criticisms of lectures and manuscript, and assistance in correct- 
 ing the proof. 
 
 The principal claim that I can make for originality is the 
 arrangement of the material and its adaptation to the needs 
 of students and other readers. However, I may deserve some 
 credit for my definition of religion (Chapter V), and the 
 various applications of this definition in the remainder of 
 Part I, for my interpretation of the religious attitude as a 
 sentiment (Chapters XIV, XV) and for certain ideas in the 
 sections headed "The Author's Opinions" in the chapters of 
 Part III. 
 
 I have not thought it necessary to defend my methodology 
 in this volume, as I have treated this subject in an article, 
 "The Relation of the Philosophy of Religion to the Psychology 
 of Religion," published in the Philosophical Re-view in March, 
 1918. I believe that this book has been written in accordance 
 with the principles advocated in that article. The abundant 
 use of concrete material, especially in the earlier chapters, is 
 the result of my experience as a teacher. I regret the necessity 
 of giving up so much space to illustrations, and the conse- 
 quently slow movement of thought. But this is inevitable, in 
 view of the increasingly narrow range of cultural information 
 at the command of American undergraduates, especially upon 
 all topics in any way connected with philosophy and religion. 
 It will be practicable for teachers who find it necessary to 
 make omissions to leave out Chapters VII-XIII; or any entire 
 Part could be taken up, and the other two left out. As there 
 is some continuity running through the chapters, there would 
 be something lost in reading them in different order; except 
 that much might be said for the study of Chapter XIV 
 immediately after Chapter I. 
 
 A few words in conclusion regarding the value of the study 
 of the subjects treated. 
 
 Few disciplines, at least as it appears to me, rival the 
 philosophy of religion in the mental training and breadth of 
 culture afforded. The student has to learn to enter imagina- 
 
vni PREFACE 
 
 tlvely and sympathetically into the emotional attitudes of the 
 various types of religious experience in order to understand 
 them. At the same time he has to evaluate these experiences 
 cold-bloodedly in a disinterested effort to determine what truth, 
 if any, they contain. He must learn how to weigh evidence 
 where demonstration is impossible, and to determine the amount 
 of probability afforded by arguments based upon analogies. 
 He must learn to be content to suspend his judgment on many 
 points. He must also learn, where a decision has to be made 
 such as his own personal attitude toward a religious body to 
 which he feels attracted to form a conclusion in accordance 
 with what, in the absence of certainty, he judges on the whole 
 to be most probable. He must acquire the ability to consider 
 fairly the different sides of a question, and to extract the truth 
 from each. He must gain, not merely tolerance, but also 
 sympathy and respect for those who arrive at different con- 
 clusions from himself. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PART I. RELIGION AND THE CONSERVATION OF 
 VALUES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION. 1 
 
 (i) The two questions is religion true? and what is 
 religion? The latter to be discussed first, (n) A word of 
 counsel, (in) Definitions of the psychology and philosophy 
 of religion, theology, natural and ethical religions. 
 
 CHAPTER II. RELIGION IN ITS LOWEST TERMS. 8 
 
 (i) Reasons for beginning with the natives of Australia. 
 (n) Australian ceremonies described. (m) Why these are 
 religious, (iv) The supernatural element in the ceremonies. 
 (v) Values conserved. 
 
 CHAPTER III. THE DIFFERENTIATION OF 
 RELIGION. 18 
 
 (i) Introduction, (n) Religion of the Todas. (in) 
 Lessons from Toda religion, (iv) The Melanesians. Mana. 
 (v) Psychological explanation of mana. (vi) Is there any 
 truth in the mana conception? 
 
 CHAPTER 1 IV. RELIGION DIFFERENTIATED. 31 
 
 (i) The Baganda. (n) Gods, (m) Fetiches, (iv) 
 Amulets, (v) Ghosts, (vi) Magic, (vn) Conservation of 
 values, imaginary and real. 
 
 CHAPTER V. DEFINITION OF RELIGION. RELA- 
 TION OF RELIGION TO OTHER HUMAN ACTIVITIES. 
 
 41 
 
 (i) Purpose of the definition, (n) Its genus, (m) Its 
 differentia, (iv) Comparative religion, (v) Relation of 
 religion to animism, (vi) to magic, (vn) to morality, (vra) 
 to art to play. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. THE EVOLUTION OF DEITIES, 
 SACRIFICE AND PRAYER. 58 
 
 (i) The rise of ceremonials, (n) The evolution of deities, 
 (in) of sacrifice, (iv) of prayer. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. BRAHMANISM. 69 
 
 (i) Introductory, (n) Vedic period, (m) Brahmanical 
 
 IX 
 
x CONTENTS 
 
 period, (iv) Philosophical period. Brahmanism: description; 
 psychology; merits and defects, (v) Modern Hinduism, (vi) 
 Concluding remarks Why Brahmanism failed application to 
 America to-day. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. BUDDHISM. 85 
 
 (i) Introduction comparison with Christianity, (n) The 
 Buddha facts and legends, (in) The Doctrine; Nirvana; 
 karma; other details; not wholly pessimistic, (iv) The 
 Brotherhood, (v) Events in Buddhist history, (vi) Merits 
 and defects of primitive and Southern Buddhism, (vn) 
 Mahayana Buddhism. (VHI) Buddhism in China and Japan, 
 (ix) Respective merits of Buddhism and Christianity. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. GREECE AND ROME. 108 
 
 (i) Introduction, (n) Family religion, (in) Religion of 
 Greek city state deities and values, (iv) The Olympians. 
 (v) Attempted reforms by poets and philosophers, (vi) Greek 
 mystery religions, (vn) Religion in the Roman republic, 
 (vin) Religion and the Roman emperors, (ix) Mystery 
 religions in the Roman empire Mithraism and Christianity. 
 (x) Debt of modern religion to Greece and Rome. 
 
 CHAPTER X. JUDAISM. 131 
 
 (i) Introduction. Contrast with Greece and Rome, (n) 
 Historical outline, (m) The prophets before the exile, (iv) 
 The law and the synagogue, (v) The Messianic hope, (vi) 
 Conclusions; comparison with Christianity; the future of 
 Judaism. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. ANCIENT AND MEDIEVAL CHRIS- 
 TIANITY. 151 
 
 Definition of Christianity, (i) Jesus of Nazareth, (n) The 
 Apostolic Age. (m) The Ancient Catholic Church ; episkopoi; 
 (iv) canon ; (v) sacraments ; sacramentals ; (vi) creeds ; 
 (vn) function, (vin) The medieval Latin church. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. MODERN CHRISTIANITY. 172 
 
 (i) The modern Roman Catholic church, (n) The earlier 
 Protestantism, general characteristics ; (m) Movements on 
 the continent of Europe ; Lutheranism ; Calvinism ; Arminian- 
 ism; Socinians. (iv) The English reformation; the Anglican 
 church ; Puritans ; Baptists ; Presbyterians ; Friends. ( v) The 
 Enlightenment ; philosophical movements ; influence on religion. 
 (vi) The Evangelical revival; the Wesleyans. (vu) Construe- 
 
CONTENTS xi 
 
 tive movements in philosophy; intuitiomsm ; romanticism; 
 Kant; post-Kantians ; influence on religion, (vni) Recent 
 tendencies in Protestantism; Unitarianism ; liberalism in the 
 orthodox churches. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. CHRISTIANITY AND THE CON- 
 SERVATION OF VALUES. 199 
 
 Introduction, (i) Values which Christianity has conserved, 
 (n) The function of the Christian religion, (in) Differences 
 between denominations in values recognized, (iv) Finality. 
 
 PART II. RELIGION AND THE SELF. 
 CHAPTER XIV. PSYCHOLOGICAL CONCEPTIONS. 214 
 
 (i) Introductory, (n) The Subconscious, (m) Instincts, 
 (iv) Habits and Sentiments, (v) The religious sentiment, 
 (vi) Innate, non-specific tendencies: suggestion, sympathy, 
 imitation, play, (vn) Development of the self; application to 
 the religious sentiment. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT. 234 
 (i) Introductory, (n) Religion in childhood, (m) Ado- 
 lescence, (iv) The religious sentiment in adolescence; 
 continuous religious growth; conversion; mixed types of 
 awakening, (v) Role of the subconscious in adolescent awaken- 
 ings, (vi) Conditions determining the types of awakening, 
 (vn) Adults, (vm) Pseudo-conversions and revivals, (ix) 
 Non-religious awakenings, (x) The relation of God to 
 religious awakenings. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. PRAYER. 257 
 
 (i) The conversational nature of thought and prayer, (n) 
 Types of prayer, (m) Merits and limitations of each type, 
 (iv) Prayer and the subconscious, (v) Prayer tends to 
 become discriminating, (vi) The efficacy of prayer, (vn) 
 The objectivity of prayer; theories of an external and of an 
 immanent God. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. MYSTICISM. 286 
 
 (i) Introductory; definitions, (n) Milder forms of mysti- 
 cism, (in) The great mystics, (iv) Spiritual exercises, (v) 
 Ecstasy ; visions, (vi) Inspiration, (vn) When are mystical 
 states normal? (vm) Mysticism and truth. 
 
 PART III. RELIGION AND REALITY. 
 CHAPTER XVIII. MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY. 
 
 305 
 (i) Introductory: metaphysics; teleology; mechanism, (n) 
 
xn CONTENTS 
 
 Inorganic evolution, (in) Are organisms mechanistic or 
 teleological? (iv) Biological evolution, (v) Psychology, 
 (vi) Teleology and dysteleology. (vn) What does the world 
 purpose include? 
 
 , CHAPTER XIX. EVIDENCE OF GOD. 338 
 
 Introductory, (i) The conception of God is symbolical and 
 anthropomorphic, (n) Arguments for the existence of God: 
 (1) teleological and evolutionary; (2) religious experience; 
 (3) moral arguments; (4) idealistic arguments; (5) prag- 
 matic arguments; (6) the new realism, (in) Arguments 
 against belief in God: (1) atheistic; (2) agnostic, (iv) The 
 "right to believe" argument. Faith. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. THE NATURE OF GOD AND THE 
 PROBLEM OF EVIL. 370 
 
 (i) Introductory, (n) Traditional theism, (m) The older 
 pantheism, (iv) Modern philosophical theism and pantheism, 
 (v) James* conception of an external God. (vi) Other 
 theories of a limited God. (vn) Royce's conception of an 
 immanent God. (vin) God and absolute idealism, (ix) The 
 author's opinions. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. GOD AND HUMAN FREEDOM. 391 
 
 Purpose of this chapter, (i) Traditional theism, (n) 
 Freedom as employed in ethics, "psychological" and "ethical." 
 (in) Freedom in psychology, (iv) "Determinism" and "indeter- 
 minism." (v) Indeterminism and God. (vi) Royce's conception 
 of freedom and the Absolute, (vn) The author's opinions, 
 (vin) Conclusion. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. IMMORTALITY. 412 
 
 (i) Immortality as a known fact, "biological" and "social." 
 Significance of "personal immortality" as here employed, (n) 
 Conditions of personal immortality as a postulate, (in) Is 
 continued existence after death scientifically possible? (iv) 
 What kind of personal immortality is morally desirable? (v) 
 Arguments for immortality as a postulate, (vi) Types of 
 immortality as a postulate separate souls, continued existence 
 in God. Royce's attempted combination, (vn) Salvation and 
 damnation, (vni) The author's opinions, (ix) Conclusion. 
 
A STUDENT'S 
 PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 
 
A STUDENT'S 
 PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 THE time has passed when thinking men and women can 
 either accept or reject religion uncritically, The age of faith, 
 when persons could be led through simple and childlike trust 
 to accept religious teaching unquestioningly, has passed away. 
 No reasonable person now can think it wrong to doubt, or to 
 ask for the reasons why he should believe. And, on the other 
 hand, the time has ceased when anyone who knows anything 
 about the subject tries to explain away religion by attributing 
 its origin to fraud and superstition. A factor that has 
 persisted so long in human history, and influenced society in 
 all ages so profoundly, must hold some integral place in human 
 life and experience. It has had its beginnings in the beliefs 
 and practices of the lowliest savages. From these we can, 
 with some degree of confidence, outline the gradual course 
 of its evolution down to the present time. Religion must be 
 regarded as one of the most important and fascinating subjects 
 for human investigation. 
 
 I The Two Questions 
 
 The first question that a beginner in the study of religion 
 naturally wishes to ask is, "Is religion true?" A very little 
 thought, however, will convince anyone that this question 
 cannot be answered by a simple "Yes" or "No"; and that 
 before it can be considered at all, it is first necessary to find 
 an answer to the question "What is religion?" For while all 
 of us have general notions as to what we mean by the word, 
 it would be quite impossible for anyone to give an accurate 
 definition of religion without considerable study. 
 
 There are two ways of attempting to answer this question, 
 "What is religion?" We shall make use of both of them. In 
 Part I we shall endeavor to trace the course and development 
 
 It 
 
2 INTRODUCTION 
 
 of religion through human history, to find out what character- 
 istics have always belonged to it and so appear to be essential ; 
 and what characteristics have appeared only at times and not 
 at others, and so are presumably accidental to it; what are the 
 laws that govern its development; and what influence it has 
 had upon human events. 
 
 Part II will be devoted to the second way of answering the 
 question, "What is Religion?" This will be a report of some 
 things that psychologists have learned from a study of the 
 religious experiences of persons most of whom have lived in 
 our own times. These will throw much light on the kinds of 
 religious experience that people now have, and the nature and 
 efficacy of religious awakenings, prayer, and mystical states. 
 
 Thus acquainted with the facts of religion, we shall be 
 prepared, in Part III, to take up the fundamental question, "Is 
 Religion true? Does it have a genuine place in a philosophical 
 account of the world, comparable with that occupied by 
 science?" Successive chapters will consider: whether the world 
 can best be regarded as exclusively mechanical (a possibility 
 obviously unfavorable to Religion), or whether it is also in 
 some respects purposive (a possibility that admits of the 
 existence of God) ; what arguments philosophers now advance 
 in favor of the existence of God ; what they believe His nature 
 to be, His relation to evil, to the freedom of the human will, 
 and to human immortality. 
 
 The purpose throughout the book will be to help the reader 
 to think out his philosophy of religion for himself. While the 
 author will always conclude by giving his own opinions, the 
 reader should never accept any of them, unless, after criticizing 
 them in every way he can, they appear to him more reasonable 
 than any alternative opinions that occur to him. No educated 
 person can ever acquire any beliefs on the subject of religion 
 that will be of the slightest benefit in his own life or that will 
 increase his effectiveness as a member of society until he has 
 thought them out for himself and made them his very own. 
 
 II A Word of Counsel 
 
 A word of counsel needs to be given before taking up the 
 body of the book. One reason for devoting so much space to 
 religions in other lands and periods of history in Part I, and 
 for giving so many references and comparisons to other 
 religions than the one immediately under consideration all 
 
INTRODUCTION 3 
 
 through the book, is to widen the range of vision as much as 
 possible. For instance, the best way to understand and 
 appreciate the Founder of Christianity is to know something 
 of the founders of other religions, especially of Gautama 
 Siddartha, the Buddha, one of the gentlest, wisest and most 
 self-sacrificing of men. 
 
 To understand any religion it is not enough to know some 
 of the facts about it, such as its doctrines, ritual, moral 
 precepts, ecclesiastical organization, and the architecture of 
 its temples. These are merely the externals of a religion 
 at most its foliage. The core of a religion is not easily 
 described. A religion must be felt, if it is to be really under- 
 stood. The reader should always try to put himself in the 
 place of the believers and practicers of the religion under 
 immediate consideration, to imagine himself feeling as they do, 
 suffering as they have often suffered, and experiencing their 
 hopes and joys. He will then be able to understand how the 
 religion has developed, its ritual, body of doctrine, organiza- 
 tion and other manifestations. These will be seen to be the 
 natural expression of its life. With our sympathy must be 
 combined frank criticism. But appreciation should never be 
 lacking. Every attempt of humanity to reach forth to some- 
 thing higher and better than it knows, surely deserves respect. 
 And as a matter of fact we shall see, that religions have usually, 
 at least, been modes by which man really has advanced to higher 
 levels of moral and social insight and attainment. 
 
 Ill Definitions 
 
 Preliminary to the subsequent chapters it is necessary for 
 us to become acquainted with a few definitions. By the 
 Psychology of Religion is meant, a scientific description and 
 explanation of the mental states and outward behavior ofi 
 individual persons, and groups of persons when they have 
 religious experiences. In Part I these processes will be 
 observed quite untechnically. For instance, we shall observe 
 that custom and tradition influence religious beliefs very 
 largely, that Australian youth at their initiation ceremonies 
 probably have experiences similar to the spontaneous religious 
 awakenings and conversions of Americans at the present time, 
 and so on. In other words, we shall observe simply that mental 
 processes of a religious nature sometimes affect a whole group 
 
4 INTRODUCTION 
 
 or society of people, and that at other times processes go on by 
 which the individual absorbs, and in some sense makes his own, 
 the religious experiences, customs, and beliefs of his group. In 
 Part II, on the other hand, some attempt will be made at a 
 more technical explanation of such processes in the language 
 of modern psychology. The reader should bear in mind, in 
 reading Part I, that more thorough analysis and explanation 
 have been reserved for Part II, where both the data derived 
 from the history of religions and from reports of contemporary 
 religious experience will be available. 
 
 In Part III, we shall be studying the philosophy of religion 
 in its narrower, metaphysical sense. Thus understood, the 
 Philosophy of Religion considers the truth of Religion, what 
 is the ultimate significance of its practices and beliefs in an 
 interpretation of the world as a whole, or, more technically, the 
 relation of Religion to Reality. Thus the relationship between 
 religion and science, and whether religion like science is a 
 source of knowledge, are philosophical problems in the narrower 
 sense. The philosophical arguments for a universe in which 
 moral purposes are accomplished, the existence and nature of 
 God, and immortality all belong to this field. The purpose 
 of the book as a whole is primarily, of course, to throw light 
 upon these ultimate philosophical questions. 
 
 Theology in the traditional sense of the term is a very 
 different discipline from the philosophy of religion and should 
 not be confused with it. To be sure, it treats of many of the 
 same subjects, the truth of religion, and arguments for the 
 existence of God and the immortality of the soul. But tradi- 
 tional theology finds its ultimate source of knowledge in an 
 authoritative revelation or pronouncement of some sort the 
 sacred scriptures of the religion, or the decretals of councils, 
 or the sayings of the founders of the religion, or special 
 revelations to priests, prophets and saints. The dogmas of 
 theology are believed to be more certain than all other 
 knowledge, and not subject to the tests of human reasoning; 
 they are beyond the power of man's mind to comprehend. This 
 attitude is common to Brahman, Mohammedan, Jewish and 
 Christian dogmatic theology. In recent times there have arisen, 
 chiefly among Protestants and Jews, but also to some extent 
 in other faiths, advocates of what is termed "liberal theology." 
 Such thinkers if they are "liberal" in the extreme, base their 
 
INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 religious doctrines wholly upon reason and experience, 
 precisely as a science would do, or as the philosophy of religion 
 does. Between such extremely liberal theology and the 
 philosophy of religion there is only one important difference: 
 liberal theologians are chiefly interested in the study of the 
 particular religion to which they adhere and the beliefs 
 connected with it (such as Christianity, Judaism, etc.), while 
 the philosophy of religion concerns itself impartially with the 
 more general principles that apply to all or many religions, 
 
 A scientific definition of religion will be given in Chapter V. 
 For the present we must be content simply with a rough 
 working description of part of what a religion does. A 
 religion is a certain kind of systematic effort to secure the 
 conservation and enhancement of values. The character of 
 the values depends on the degree of advancement of the religion 
 and of the civilization in which it appears. In lower religions, 
 which we shall call "natural religions," the values are all 
 concrete, tangible, practical wants. If food is sometimes 
 scarce, and means of cultivation of the soil or raising flocks 
 and herds are inefficient, there are likely to be religious 
 ceremonials to obtain food, as we shall see is the case among 
 the natives of Central Australia. If water is scarce, as in 
 the Arabian desert, every spring of water may be thought of 
 as sacred, the habitat of a local spirit or god who must be 
 propitiated to obtain water. If the chief need of man, which 
 he himself cannot supply, is protection from perils of thunder, 
 lightning, earthquake, flood and cataract, as in Central 
 Africa, these become matters of religious attention. Gods and 
 spirits are often consulted for information as to the future, as 
 the oracles of Greece, or for counsel in matters too difficult 
 for men to decide, as when the Hebrews cast lots and supposed 
 that Yahweh decided the outcome. Protection from disease, 
 especially pestilence, and the desire for long life, riches and 
 posterity are values with which natural religions often have 
 been concerned. The attitude of the practicer of the religion 
 is often mechanical or at least quasi-magical. By his 
 performances he thinks that the result will be brought about, 
 either automatically, or through the agency of some super- 
 natural being who will be compelled to assist. Before this 
 stage is left, however, the attitude of man to spirits or gods 
 becomes humble; perhaps he tries to bargain with them, 
 thinking that they will be pleased at his gifts ; or more humble 
 
6 INTRODUCTION 
 
 still, he prostrates himself before them in the hope that they 
 will be touched at his meekness and devotion. 
 
 In contrast to natural religions are the ethical religions. 
 In these, thinking men have come to feel that the fundamental 
 thing to seek through religion is not so much material goods 
 as a pure heart and a noble life. Moral conduct has become 
 the supreme value to be conserved. The greatest evil man has 
 to overcome is his own sinful nature, which curses him now, 
 and threatens to continue to bring harm upon him in a future 
 life. So ethical religions are usually religions of redemption, 
 and afford man some way of escape from his sinfulness. This 
 may be provided by a prescribed course of conduct, as in 
 primitive Buddhism, or by devotion to a Saviour God as in 
 the Shin sect of Buddhism, in several of the ancient mystery 
 religions, and above all, in Christianity. 
 
 In natural religions the values chiefly sought are those of 
 general concern for the welfare of the family or clan more 
 often than the individual. This is because the individual has 
 little consciousness of himself as a person. Political and 
 economic evolution are tardy; only very slowly does a man 
 acquire rights to private property and personal responsibility 
 for his own acts. So he counts for little as a person. Religious 
 evolution is usually even slower. Explanations of religious 
 matters are made by myths products of the imagination, often 
 full of absurdities which are uncritically accepted and passed 
 down from one generation to another by word of mouth. 
 Personal belief in myths, however, is of less consequence than 
 the faithful observance of ritualistic acts (sacrifices, cere- 
 monies of initiation, purification, avoidance of things that are 
 taboo, etc.). Provided one observes the prescriptions of ritual, 
 it matters little whether he believes in the mythical explanations 
 of the ritual. 
 
 In ethical religions the individual comes into his own. His 
 soul is now seen to possess inestimable worth. His responsi- 
 bility to his fellow men, as well as to supernatural beings, 
 becomes personal and immediate. Some of the more plausible 
 myths of earlier periods may be retained, but religious thought 
 becomes more logical, and seeks to justify and explain its 
 prescriptions in doctrines that are products of reason rather 
 than imagination. These often develop into dogmas, which 
 must be unquestioningly believed as an indispensable condition 
 of salvation. 
 
INTRODUCTION 7 
 
 In connection with the term subconscious it will suffice for 
 the present to remember that we are influenced in our thoughts 
 and actions by impulses of which at the time we are unaware. 
 Such impulses are said to be due to the subconscious. An 
 illustration would be the instance of feeling suddenly prompted 
 to turn a street corner in a certain direction without knowing 
 why, and later recalling a forgotten errand that would take 
 one in that direction. Such an incident shows that, somewhere 
 in one's mind or brain the errand was remembered, although it 
 certainly was not present in conscious attention. There are 
 people into whose minds the results of what would ordinarily 
 be the outcome of long and studied deliberation sometimes flash 
 suddenly, as if due to inspiration. Forgotten incidents some- 
 times are recalled in dreams and waking visions. Great 
 importance was attached in early religions to such experiences, 
 which were often believed to be supernatural revelations. 
 Whether subconscious processes are wholly physiological, or 
 whether they imply mental processes of which one is unaware, 
 will be left undecided until Chapter XIV. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 RELIGION IN ITS LOWEST TERMS 
 I Reasons for Beginning with the Natives of Australia 
 
 WHAT little is known of the religious beliefs of prehistoric 
 man seems to indicate that his religious beliefs and practices 
 were not greatly different from those that exist in the savage 
 world to-day. By comparing religious beliefs among savages 
 on different planes of development, we can form some idea how 
 religion appeared among men as a separate interest and 
 activity, and what had been the general course of its develop- 
 ment among the ancestors of civilized nations prior to the 
 beginning of recorded history. 
 
 It will not be profitable to attempt to begin an outline of 
 the evolution of religion with the very lowliest races now in 
 existence, so far as lack of intelligence and social organization 
 are concerned, like the Rock Veddahs of Ceylon, the Fuegians 
 of Tierra del Fuego, and the Negritoes of Central Africa, 1. 
 We do not possess sufficiently accurate and detailed informa- 
 tion about these races upon the points of most concern to the 
 student of comparative religion. 
 
 It is desirable, however, to begin with folk who are still at a 
 stage of development prior to the emergence of religion as a 
 separate human activity, with distinct institutions. The 
 biologist often finds it desirable to begin an account of some 
 line of animal evolutionary development with the amoeba, in 
 which no differentiation of the different functions, such as 
 respiration, circulation, assimilation, execretion, reproduction 
 and locomotion, has yet taken place, but all are still performed 
 by a single cell. Similarly, it is convenient for the student of 
 comparative religion to begin with a people among whom the 
 essential functions of religion exist, but have not yet become 
 differentiated from other activities. Such is the state of 
 religion among certain of the native races of Australia, and 
 this is the primary reason why we shall begin our study with 
 them. 
 
 8 
 
CEREMONIES 9 
 
 There are four other reasons why the natives of Australia 
 are probably the most important savage races now in existence, 
 for the beginner in the study of religion. First, they seem 
 to be the least developed savage people regarding whose 
 religion we have fairly full and trustworthy reports. The 
 investigations of Spencer and Gillen and of Howitt have been 
 very thorough and painstaking, and have since been confirmed, 
 so far as essentials are concerned, by the independent 
 researches of Strehlow and others, 2. Secondly, these native 
 races have occupied an entire continent. We can certainly feel 
 surer of conclusions based on Australian races than those based 
 on comparatively small and isolated tribes. Thirdly, until com- 
 paratively recently, they have been little disturbed by contact 
 with other races. Spencer and Gillen are able to report to us 
 native Australian religion in its pristine purity, uninfluenced 
 by ideas brought in by missionaries and traders. And, finally 
 a reason of practical importance many of the recent theories 
 on the origin and nature of religion are based upon these 
 peoples, and cannot be made clear without reference to them. 
 
 II Australian Ceremonies 
 
 In many respects the natives of Australia are certainly 
 primitive enough. Their economic development is the very 
 lowest. They do not raise flocks or herds, nor, still .less, culti- 
 vate the soil. The men hunt kangaroos, emus, and other wild 
 animals, and display some skill in stalking their prey, and in 
 using boomerangs. The women gather small game (such as 
 lizards and honey ants), and collect such vegetables as they 
 can find growing wild. Although in winter there are chilly 
 days and frosty nights, they have not learned to make clothes 
 for themselves. They suffer with the cold, and gladly wear 
 any cast off apparel that white people may give them. The 
 native hut is the crudest and most primitive imaginable, 
 "merely a lean-to of shrubs so placed as to shield the occupants 
 from the prevailing wind," 3. They can readily count up to 
 five ; further reckoning is difficult for them, 4. However, they 
 have developed a complicated system of totems, and elaborate 
 regulations governing marriage. 
 
 It is surprising that among these peoples we find none of 
 the religious ideas that would at first seem fundamental. There 
 is no notion of prayer or other means of communication with 
 spirits, gods, or supernatural beings of any sort. There are 
 neither priests nor temples. It therefore has sometimes been 
 
10 LOWEST TERMS OF RELIGION 
 
 said that these peoples belong to the pre-religious stage, that 
 their rude culture antedates the appearance of religion among 
 mankind. However, it is more accurate to say that religion 
 exists among them in an undifferentiated form, since, as we 
 shall see, they possess, to say the least, some of the germs of 
 religion as it exists among higher races. 
 
 Among the Arunta tribe (regarding which the statements 
 in this chapter specifically apply, when other tribes are not 
 mentioned) a boy passes through four initiations. The first 
 of these takes place when he is ten or twelve years old. The 
 men and women assemble at a central spot near the main camp, 
 and the boys who have reached the right age are taken one 
 by one and tossed into the air by the men who catch them as 
 they fall, while the women dance round and round the group, 
 swinging their arms and shouting. The boys are then painted 
 on their chests and backs with simple designs in red or yellow 
 ochre. While this is being done, the boys are told that the 
 ceremony through which they have just passed will promote 
 their growth to manhood, that in future they must not play 
 with the women and girls, nor camp with them, but that here- 
 after they must go to the men's camp. Whereas hitherto they 
 have been accustomed to go out with the women in their search 
 for vegetable food and smaller animals like lizards and rats, 
 they shall henceforth accompany the men in hunting larger 
 game. They now begin to look forward to the time when they 
 will become fully initiated, and will know all the secrets of the 
 tribe. 
 
 The second initiation, that of circumcision, is more elaborate 
 and takes place when the boy is somewhat older. In one 
 witnessed by Spencer and Gillen, and described by them in 
 detail,' the boy to be initiated was seized by three loudly 
 shouting young men and carried off to the carefully prepared 
 ceremonial ground, out of sight of the women and children. 
 "The main object of this partial seclusion is to impress him 
 with the fact that he is about to enter the ranks of the men, 
 and to mark the break between his old life and the new one; 
 he has no precise knowledge of what is in store for him, and 
 the sense that something out of the ordinary is about to happen 
 to him something, moreover, which is of a more or less 
 mysterious nature helps to impress him strongly with a 
 feeling of the deep importance of compliance with tribal rules, 
 and further still with a strong sense of the superiority of the 
 
CEREMONIES 11 
 
 older men who know, and are familiar with, all the mysterious 
 rites, some of which he is about to learn the meaning of for 
 the first time," 5. On the fourth day the initiate was brought 
 back to a secluded spot prepared for him near the ceremonial 
 ground, where he was placed under strict guard. During the 
 following four days the boy was kept in seclusion except at 
 stated times when he was brought out to witness for the first 
 time in his life various solemn ceremonies in which, by dance, 
 song, acting, and pantomime, the totemic animals are 
 portrayed, and the ancestors of the tribe are represented as 
 they are supposed to have appeared and acted during life. 
 From the morning of the ninth day ceremonies increased in 
 frequency and excitement until night ; at intervals through- 
 out the latter, with face covered, the initiate heard the singing 
 of the fire song. At the break of the following day, he was 
 rubbed afresh with ochre and made all that day to witness 
 ceremonials and hear shouts and songs. After dusk, while 
 the ceremonial fire was blazing and the bull roarers making a 
 terrific din which the women and children suppose to be the 
 roaring of a great spirit who has come to take the boy away 
 into the bush, the painful operation was performed with a 
 small flint knife. The boy was then congratulated if he had 
 not cried out, various secret emblems were shown him which 
 it was believed would hasten the healing of his wound, and 
 which he must guard and not lose on penalty of death to 
 himself and various relatives. 
 
 The initiation over, the boy is kept under more or less strict 
 surveillance for sufficient time to allow his wound to heal 
 about five or six weeks. He then has to undergo the third 
 initiation, which terminates with another painful mutilation 
 called sub-incision. ' This is likewise attended by elaborate 
 ceremonials which reveal ~to him sacred and secret tribal lore 
 and tradition. Somewhat similar but simpler ceremonies are 
 passed through by the girls. These, however, merely have for 
 their purpose the assurance of their physical development into 
 womanhood, and so no tribal lore or secrets are revealed to them. 
 
 Some years later, when a man is at least twenty-five or 
 thirtv vears of age, he passes through the final and most 
 elaborate initiation of all, called the Engwura or "fire" 
 ceremony, from the fact that it terminates with an ordeal in 
 which the initiate has to lie down for four or five minutes upon 
 green boughs placed over a fire of hot embers. This ceremony, 
 
12 LOWEST TERMS OF RELIGION 
 
 or rather series of ceremonies, lasts for months, that witnessed 
 by Spencer and Gillen continuing from the middle of September 
 to the middle of January, during which men and women 
 assemble from all parts of the tribe and even from distant 
 tribes. From one to five or six different ceremonials of an 
 elaborate character were produced every day. Councils of the 
 old men were held frequently, and all the traditions and lore of 
 the tribe were repeated and discussed, kept fresh in memory, 
 and told to the initiates. Sacred objects (churinga) were 
 produced and examined. After the native has passed through 
 this initiation he is said to be Uliara, that is, a perfectly 
 developed member of the tribe. "The natives themselves say 
 that the ceremony has the effect of strengthening all who 
 pass through it. It imparts courage and wisdom, makes the 
 men more kindly natured and less apt to quarrel. 
 Evidently the main objects of it are, firstly, to bring the young 
 men under the control of the old men, whose commands they 
 have to obey implicitly ; secondly, to teach them habits of 
 self-restraint and hardihood; and thirdly, to show to the 
 younger men who have arrived at mature age, the sacred 
 secrets of the tribe which are concerned with the Churinga and 
 the totems with which they are associated," 6. 
 
 Each native belongs to a totem, that is, he or she is 
 mystically united with some plant or animal. The nature of 
 this union is not clearly thought out by the savage himself. 
 Savages do not feel the civilized man's need to explain every- 
 thing in logical conceptions. They dogmatically say of a 
 given man that "he is a kangaroo," an "emu," or what not, and 
 that, in their minds is the end of the matter. Explanations, 
 when given, vary among different Australian tribes, and among 
 different savage races all over the world. The Arunta believe 
 that each individual in the tribe is the direct reincarnation 
 either of an ancestor of the same totem as he, or else of the 
 spirit part of an animal of the totem. 7. 
 
 Except on rare ceremonial occasions an individual must not 
 partake of his totem as food, on account of his mystic union 
 with the totem. The union, however, affords him the power to 
 increase the supply of the totemic plant or animal for the 
 benefit of the members of other totems, and he accordingly 
 goes through elaborate totemic ceremonials for this purpose. 
 These 'intichuima.. ceremonies, as they are called, in some of 
 Which the totemic food, sacred, and for the most part forbidden 
 
CEREMONIES 13 
 
 to them at other times, is partaken of by the participants, 
 seem in some respects to contain some of the rudiments of the 
 conception of a sacrifice. Totemic food is eaten among the 
 Arunta by those mystically bound together in a common fellow- 
 ship to ensure a desired result not possible by ordinary human 
 means but achieved by this solemn act. However, the partaking 
 of totemic food is not characteristic of the ceremonies, in some 
 of the other Australian tribes, 8; nor does it seem to be more 
 prominent than other details in the ritual where it does appear. 
 
 Ill Why the Australian Ceremonies are Religious 
 
 If we now reflect upon these Australian ceremonies we shall 
 perceive in them some of the characteristics of higher religions. 
 When Jewish youth are confirmed or when Christian youth are 
 confirmed, come to first communion, or make a profession of 
 faith and join the church, or when a Buddhist boy after prelim- 
 inary religious instruction solemnly takes the three-fold vow 
 "I take my refuge in the Buddha, I take my refuge in the 
 Doctrine, I take my refuge in the Brotherhood of the Elect," 
 what is the significance socially and personally of the action? 
 These rites to the young Jew or Buddhist or Christian mean 
 an enlargement and an enhancement of his life, a deepening, 
 widening, and intensifying in value to him of the precepts and 
 ideals which he first learned at his mother's knee and which 
 have since constantly been impressed upon him by the conduct 
 and precepts of his elders. All the worship which hitherto had 
 been somewhat external to him, which he had merely witnessed, 
 now comes home to him in fuller significance. His intellectual 
 comprehension of it has now for the first time become at all 
 adequate; his emotional reaction toward it has now become 
 intimate and personal. He has taken the law of Moses and 
 the love of Jehovah into his very heart and mind, or the "noble 
 eight-fold path" of the Buddha has become the chart and 
 compass of his life, or he has "put on Christ" and dedicated 
 his soul to His service. 
 
 The initiation ceremonials appear to serve similar functions 
 for the Australian blacks. Socially, the ceremonies conserve 
 what is dear and sacred in their past, and pass it down to the 
 coming generation. Individually, they ensure that initiates 
 receive this lore in a proper frame of mind awe and humility 
 combined with intense emotional excitement and exaltation. 
 The values of higher religions are more moral and more 
 
14 LOWEST TERMS OF RELIGION 
 
 spiritual ; and more refined means than the infliction of physical 
 suffering and insistence upon secrecy and mystery are used 
 to lead the initiate to revere sacred principles and to make 
 them basic in his life. But, when allowance is made for the 
 difference in the level of his civilization, these ceremonials of 
 the Australian native may be said to correspond to those of 
 higher religions. We may therefore conclude that the natives 
 of Australia possess a religion. 
 
 IV The Supernatural Element in the Ceremonies. 
 
 The effect both of the initiation and the intichiuma ceremo- 
 nies is to cultivate a tremendous awe for tribal tradition and 
 custom. "As amongst all savage tribes the Australian native 
 is bound hand and foot by custom. What his fathers did 
 before him he must do. If during the performance of a 
 ceremony his ancestors painted a white line across the fore- 
 head, that line he^must paint." Any infringement of custom, 
 within certain limitations, is visited with some and often 
 severe punishment, 9. The most severely punished offenses are 
 breaches of tribal custom. The sufficient explanation for any 
 action is simply that it is customary, that it has always been 
 done. That, as a rule, is absolute and final ; no change is to be 
 considered for a moment, and reasons are unnecessary. If 
 reasons are given, they are myths of the origin of the custom, 
 or tales of terrible disasters that have followed upon neglect 
 of its observance. It is therefore logical to suppose, as 
 Durkheim and others have suggested that to the native 
 the might of tribal custom and tradition seems like an actually 
 existing force, something that weighs upon him, not physical 
 to be sure, and not personal, but none the less objective and 
 powerful, 10. He probably dimly feels that some sort of myster- 
 ious impersonal force operates in the initiation ceremonies and 
 transforms the boys both physiologically and mentally into 
 men, 11. Some such force must be present and operative in the 
 intichiuma ceremonies, and it must be a force common in this 
 case to the men and plants or animals of the totems, something 
 in which they all participate, that has not, to be sure, been 
 intelligently defined, and given a name, something felt rather 
 than thought, but all the more vivid and potent because 
 uncanny and mysterious. 
 
 In a sense, therefore, Australian religion involves a dim, 
 hardly conscious feeling of the presence of something super- 
 
SUPERNATURAL ELEMENT 15 
 
 natural, something that is not human and yet is not material, 
 but which is potent in the life of man and which is efficient in 
 working him good if enlisted on his side, and which would 
 work him harm if law and custom were disregarded. However, 
 as has been said, in the case of the Central Australian tribes, 
 this has not assumed a personal form, nor is it attributed to 
 the agency or intervention of gods or spirits of any sort. Yet 
 these people do have notions of supernatural beings. Spirits 
 are believed to exist in definite spots which are known, 12 ; but 
 spirits are connected in no discernible way with the practices 
 and beliefs that seem more properly to be designated as 
 religious. If Australian tribes can be regarded as throwing 
 light upon the matter, therefore, religious rites and beliefs 
 originated independently of belief in spirits and supernatural 
 personal beings, and only afterward did religion come to make 
 use of these latter conceptions. And this view of the matter is 
 coming to be held by an increasing number of writers on the 
 origins of religion, 13. 
 
 In certain tribes in South-Eastern Australia, however, there 
 seem to be the beginnings of a belief in a god, though he is 
 not worshipped. The boys during one of the initiation 
 ceremonies are shown (apparently in good faith) an image 
 or drawing of a supernatural being (Daramulun, Bunjil), 
 who they are told first taught men the initiation ceremony, 
 and who would be angry and punish them if they should reveal 
 it. He is thought once to have lived on earth with his wives, 
 and to have taught men their laws and morals, and then to 
 have left the earth and gone up into the sky where he now 
 resides. He can make himself visible and invisible at pleasure. 
 If visible he has the form of an old Australian man, "a 
 venerable, kindly Headman of a tribe, full of knowledge and 
 tribal wisdom, and powerful in magic of which he is the source, 
 with virtues, failings, and passions, such as the aborigines 
 regard them." "In this being, although supernatural, there 
 is no trace of a divine nature. All that can be said of him 
 is that he is imagined as the ideal of those qualities which are, 
 according to their standard, virtues worthy of being 
 imitated," 14. The belief, however, seems undoubtedly to be an 
 aboriginal development, and may have its origin in the common 
 Australian belief in ancestral ghosts. Dances are sometimes 
 held about the figure of this being, and men invoke his name 
 in magic. Mention of this being affords added sanction and 
 
16 LOWEST TERMS OF RELIGION 
 
 impressiveness to the ceremonies, and this may be a subcon- 
 scious reason for the acceptance of him. The tribes which 
 believe in him are a little more advanced in civilization than 
 the others. They have individual marriage, reckon descent 
 in the male line, base their organization on locality, and 
 certain of them make clothes out of dried opossum skins, 15. 
 With better social organization, the psychologist would expect 
 men to become more self-conscious of themselves as individuals. 
 There would then be more of a tendency to connect to some 
 extent the impersonal power of previous religion with a personal 
 agency, and thus give rise to a god. But of course such 
 conjectures are rather speculative. 
 
 V Values Conserved l>y Australian Religion 
 
 What functions do the ceremonies which we have decided 
 to call religious play in the social life of the native races of 
 Australia? ! It is clear that they promote social solidarity. 
 The people from distant localities come together and partici- 
 pate in solemn rites, festal dances and discussion of their 
 history and traditions. This makes undoubtedly for mutual 
 good will, promotes neighborliness and good fellowship, and 
 no doubt as is claimed by the natives, "makes every one better" 
 who participates in the ceremonies. The culture of the past 
 is preserved and handed down to the next generation. It is 
 sad to note that the influence of white men is breaking down 
 this reverence for tribal morality and substituting nothing in 
 its place. Old men are sorrowfully refusing to initiate many 
 of the young men whom they deem unworthy to know the 
 precious secrets of their people, 16. This indicates that these 
 ceremonies have had a very real moral significance in the life 
 of the natives. The intichiuma ceremonies, too, imply co-oper- 
 ation and social service. The men of a totem would not them- 
 selves be benefited by an increase in the supply of their own 
 totem. But they perform the ceremonies for the benefit of the 
 rest of the tribe, and with the expectation that other tribes will 
 reciprocate to their advantage^ Mr. B. Malinowski has pointed 
 out that these ceremonies teach the natives the value of organi- 
 zation, collective effort, and the regular application of energy, 
 performed with forethought and attention, for the accomplish- 
 ment of a definite aim. None of their other activities involve 
 these characteristics to an equal extent. On this ground he 
 argues very reasonably that these and like ceremonies may be 
 
VALUES CONSERVED 17 
 
 important forerunners of the rise of industry and economic 
 division of labor which first make their appearance at a higher 
 stage of development, 17. 
 
 That the natives do not understand fully the real services 
 that their religious acts perform for them, and that they 
 mistakenly fancy that initiation ceremonies. effect physiological 
 changes, and intichiuma ceremonies increase the food supply, 
 ought not to blind us to the significance and the importance of 
 these real services. And if these ceremonies, or their like, may be 
 supposed to be the evolutionary forerunners of higher religions, 
 they are of further value in making this evolution possible. 
 
 The believer in the truth of the higher religions may claim 
 even more. Through their religious beliefs and practices, he 
 may maintain that the natives are becoming aware, however 
 dimly, of a spiritual power in the universe that is more than 
 human. Vague as may be this feeling of some sort of imper- 
 sonal power, to which they have not even given a name, through 
 it they are learning that the world is not wholly material or 
 mechanical. The first beginnings of the religious conception 
 of the world are, in other words, present in the confused mind 
 of the Australian savage. And if these notions are crude, they 
 are no more undeveloped than his science, his morality, his law, 
 and his industries. Savage men have dimly felt many of the 
 higher social values, and have conserved them better in their 
 actions than they have been able to explain them rationally. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 *BALDWIN SPENCER and F. J. GILLEN, The Native Tribes of Central Aus- 
 tralia. The Northern Tribes of Central Australia. 
 *A. W. HOWITT, The Native Tribes of South-East Australia. 
 *W. J. SOLLAS, Ancient Hunters and Their Modern Representatives, 
 Chap. VII. 
 
 SMILE DURKHEIM, Elementary Forms of t the Religious Life. 
 *WILHELM WUNDT, Outlines of Folk Psychology, Chapters I, II. 
 Vb'lker Psychologic. 
 
 IRVING KINO, Development of Religion. 
 *J. H. LEUBA, Psychological Study of Religion, Part II. 
 
 R. R. MARETT, Threshold of Religion. 
 
 *JAMES BISSETT PRATT, Psychology of Religioiis Belief, Chap. III. The 
 Religious Consciousness, Chaps. XII, XIII. 
 
 *EDWARD S. AMES, Psychology of Religious Experience, Part II. 
 C. H. TOY, Introduction to the History of Religions. 
 JOHN DEWEY, "Interpretation of the Savage Mind" in Psychological 
 Review, 1902. 
 
 L. T. HOBHOUSE, Morals in Evolution, Part II, Chap. I. 
 L. LVY-BRUHL, Fonctions mentales dans les races inf6rieiires. 
 J. G. FHAZER, The Golden Bough. Totemism and Exogamy, Vol. I. 
 *References designated by asterisks are recommended to beginners. 
 
 
CHAPTER III 
 THE DIFFERENTIATION OF RELIGION 
 
 I Introduction 
 
 AMONG savages upon the level of the native tribes of central 
 Australia, as we have seen, religion is not yet differentiated 
 from other human interests and activities. We have chosen 
 to call the initiation and intichiuma ceremonies religious, 
 because they serve functions analogous to those performed by 
 religions among higher races. But these ceremonies could 
 quite as properly be classified under the head of education or 
 of magic, if we were tracing the evolution of either of those 
 human activities, and they even bear some connection with 
 the evolution of art, industry, law and social organization. 
 These ceremonies include most if not all the culture that the 
 natives possess in any of these fields. We have come to regard 
 religion as the attempt to conserve socially recognized values 
 through some sort of supernatural agency. We have now, 
 therefore, to consider the question, How does religion become 
 differentiated from other human interests and efforts? How 
 does religion develop its own specialized methods and institu- 
 tions, sacrifice and prayer on the one hand, and gods, priests, 
 and temples upon the other? How does the religion of primi- 
 tive peoples become distinct, so far as it does become distinct, 
 from their magic, animistic beliefs, morality, and industry, 
 and how is it related to them? The present and three follow- 
 ing chapters will endeavor to throw some light upon these 
 questions. The reader is warned, however, that upon all of 
 these questions there are the widest differences of opinion among 
 different authorities, and that the' author is stating his own 
 opinions rather dogmatically. 
 
 II The Todas 
 
 One of the greatest difficulties in this field of investigation is, 
 that we find no clear instances of .any great amount of trans- 
 formation going on in a comparatively primitive religion at 
 the time when anthropologists are observing it. We can find 
 
 18 
 
TODA RELIGION 19 
 
 savage religions in what appear to us to be different stages of 
 development, but we do not enjoy the privilege of watching a 
 religion to-day actually passing from one of these stages to 
 another. Consequently the assignment of religions to different 
 stages of development has to be done largely on the basis of 
 the theories advanced by students of religion which appear 
 most reasonable in the light of what we know of savage religions 
 on the one hand, and of psychology upon the other. 
 
 Fortunately, however, we have available a careful report of 
 one savage people whose religion has undergone such striking 
 changes that a good deal of light is thrown upon the nature 
 of religious evolution. Students of comparative religion, there- 
 fore, are attaching great importance to the religion of. the 
 Todas, which has been reported with scientific accuracy by Mr. 
 W. H. R. Rivers of Cambridge University, 1. 
 
 The Todas live in the Nilgiri Hills, in Southern India, upon 
 a high plateau which is comparatively isolated. There are 
 now about 800 of them, scattered in numerous small villages. 
 They have some intercourse with the other inhabitants of the 
 plateau, the Kotas and the Bagadas, but maintain a very 
 distinct existence. Their chief food is the milk of the buffalo 
 cow, and the various dairy products made from it. The present 
 religion centers about this food supply, the value that they 
 are most concerned to conserve. The milk must be abundant 
 and pure, so everything attached to the milk, the cows, the 
 dairies, the dairymen, dairy utensils, etc., are sacred. Some 
 of the dairies are temples and the dairymen in attendance 
 are virtually priests. Cows differ in sanctity. There are ordi- 
 nary cows, looked after by the men and boys of the village, 
 concerning whose care there is little ceremony, the milk being 
 churned in front of the dwelling hut with no special ritual 
 and no restrictions on the use of the milk and its products. 
 The men and boys, however, salute the sun before attending to 
 the cows, so that there is a slight employment of religion in the 
 conservation of this value. The sacred cows and sacred dairies 
 are, on the contrary, surrounded by a great deal of ceremony. 
 In the care of the Ti dairies, the most ritualistic of all, the 
 dairyman goes through an elaborate ceremonial before entering 
 upon his sacred office, must remain a strict celibate while in 
 office, and must live at the dairy in isolation from the rest of 
 the people. 
 
 In many of the sacred dairies the priest must recite a 
 
20 DIFFERENTIATION 
 
 prescribed prayer while lighting his lamp before attending to 
 the cows in the morning, after milking them, and before leading 
 them out to pasture; and in all of these dairies he must recite 
 the prayer in the evening before and after milking, and when 
 shutting the cows up for the night. A Toda prayer consists 
 of two parts: (1) the "prefaces" (kwarzam) a miscellaneous 
 list of names, each preceded by a preposition which Mr. Rivers 
 translates "for the sake of"; and (2) the main body of the 
 prayer. The Jcwarzam are sacred and secret, and Mr. Rivers 
 had great difficulty in inducing the natives to tell them to him. 
 In the case of the prayer of the Kuudr village dairy, which 
 is typical, the Jcwarzam include the names of the village and 
 clan, of the large dairy and the small dairy, of the lamp at the 
 large -dairy, the two buffalo pens of the village, the calf enclo- 
 sure, the sacred buffaloes, the ordinary buffaloes, the sacred 
 dairy spring of the village, the name of the buffalo whose milk, 
 according to their myths, was the origin of this spring, four 
 hills nearby, some buffaloes believed once to have been given to 
 the tribe by the goddess Teikirzi (an important event in Toda 
 mythology), and the calf that was the ancestor, according to 
 the myths, of some of the present ordinary buffaloes. After 
 the careful repetition of these Jcwarzam in so low a tone of 
 voice that no one nearby can catch these sacred words, the 
 dairyman-priest rattles off the main body of the prayer which 
 may be freely translated as follows : "May it be well with the 
 buffaloes, may they not suffer from disease or die, may they be 
 kept from poisonous animals and from wild beasts and from 
 injury by flood or fire, may there be water and grass in plenty." 
 The prayer then terminates with the names of two of the most 
 important gods or objects of reference followed by the words: 
 "For the sake of them for us may it be well." 
 
 The Toda prayers, it will be observed, are quite remarkable 
 in one respect. They are not addressed to any superior beings. 
 Many of them do not contain the names of such beings at all, 
 and when they do, these are mentioned in precisely the same 
 manner as dairy utensils, trees, springs of water, dead calves, 
 and cow bells ! No superior being is addressed in the vocative 
 case. This, therefore, raises the question are these prayers 
 or are they magical spells? or can they be both at the same 
 time? If the conception of religion advocated in the Introduc- 
 tion of this book be accepted, they may rightly be called 
 prayers. They are efforts to conserve a value that is social, 
 
TODA RELIGION 21 
 
 and of the utmost concern to the tribe. And they are efforts 
 to do this, not by ordinary mechanical means, and not through 
 human efforts alone. The invocation or utilization of some 
 impersonal supernatural agency that would be psychical, if 
 the natives were able to distinguish clearly in their thought 
 between psychical and physical, is apparently implied. Such 
 prayers may also be styled magical, since the mere repetition 
 of words seems efficacious, without the intervention of a spirit 
 or personal being of any sort. It may be that the Toda 
 prayers are in a state of degeneration, and that formerly gods 
 were invoked, or it may be that they are undeveloped, primor- 
 dial prayers that have not yet arrived at the stage at which 
 the invocation of a personal agency would naturally occur to 
 them. If with Professor Frazer, Dr. Marett, Professor Far- 
 nell, and many others we think that prayer and religion in 
 general have developed from magic, we shall incline to the 
 latter view ; if with Andrew Lang and Dr. F. B. Jevons we think 
 that the spell and magic in general are degenerated religion 
 we shall take the former. The known facts in regard to Toda 
 prayers as reported by Mr. Rivers can be interpreted with equal 
 plausibility upon either view, so far as the author can see. 
 
 Among Toda rites that seem clearly to imply the utilization 
 of an impersonal psychical power are three rudimentary sacri- 
 fices reported by Mr. Rivers. Fifteen days after the birth of 
 the calf of a sacred buffalo cow, the dairyman priest carefully 
 prepares a mixture of milk, rice, salt and jaggery according 
 to minute ritualistic prescriptions. He solemnly throws a part 
 of this food upon a fire, and portions out the rest among the 
 people gathered before the dairy. Before this ceremony the 
 cow is not milked ; henceforth she is milked like the rest of 
 the herd. This ceremonial preparation and partaking of food 
 seems to remove a taboo i.e., an unknown mysterious power, in 
 this case dangerous from the milk of the cow and to make it 
 safe to use thereafter. A fully developed sacrifice would involve 
 the offering of a portion of ceremonially prepared food to a 
 supernatural being and the consumption of the rest of it by the 
 worshippers, the act cementing their mystical union and assur- 
 ing social welfare. So we clearly have the rudiments of a sacri- 
 fice in this case. Several times a year a young male calf 
 is killed by the priest in accordance with ceremonial prescrip- 
 tions, roasted by him, and eaten by him and the people for 
 the purpose of promoting the general welfare of the people. 
 
22 DIFFERENTIATION 
 
 This, too, seems to imply the utilization through the ceremony 
 of mysterious power that will effect the desired end, else there 
 would be no reason for performing it. It therefore may be 
 recorded as a rudimentary sacrifice. Another ceremony is per- 
 formed to promote the growth of grass and honey. Two 
 priests make a fire, and while it is burning they recite the ordi- 
 nary prayers of a Ti dairy with this addition to the prayer 
 proper: "May young grass flower; may honey flourish; may 
 food ripen." The Todas feel little interest in this ceremony 
 now, but say that in ancient times their ancestors lived on 
 wild fruits, nuts and honey, and it was then important. Here, 
 it is to be observed, religion loses its interest when it is con- 
 cerned with values which a tribe no longer is anxious to conserve. 
 
 The central features of Toda religion, as it exists to-day 
 have little or nothing to do with the worship of gods. Yet the 
 Todas have a pantheon of deities whose names they seem to be 
 forgetting. Two are more important than the rest, the god 
 On and the goddess Teikirzi. The present Todas cannot cer- 
 tainly remember whether these two are father and daughter 
 or brother and sister. On and his wife created the buffaloes, 
 and On created mankind. There is no longer any public wor- 
 ship of them. The gods seem now chiefly to be used for rather 
 questionable purposes divination and sorcery. 
 
 A sorcerer can bring evil upon an enemy by holding in his 
 hands a bundle consisting of five small stones tied together 
 with some human hair in a piece of cloth and saying: "For 
 the sake of Pithioten, On, Teikirzi and Tirshti, (four deities), 
 by the power of the gods if there be power ; by the god'-s coun- 
 try if there be a country; may his calves perish; as birds fly 
 away may his buffaloes go when the calves come to suck ; as I 
 drink water, may he also have nothing but water to drink ; as 
 I am thirsty may he also be thirsty ; as I am hungry, may he 
 also be hungry; as my children cry, so may his children cry; as 
 my wife wears only a ragged cloth, so may his wife wear only 
 a ragged cloth." He then hides the stones and hair secretly 
 in the thatch of his enemy's hut. 
 
 If a man has misfortune he will consult a diviner. Diviners 
 correspond to our spiritualistic "mediums" and are shady folk, 
 who doubtless work in collusion with the sorcerers. The diviner 
 falls into a frenzy, and a god speaks through him, and gives 
 the man in trouble information ,as to the cause of his misfor- 
 tunes. If these are due to a sorcerer, the man learns what 
 
TODA RELIGION 23 
 
 sorcerer has cursed him, gives him what he asks, and so becomes 
 reconciled with him. The sorcerer then repeats another incan- 
 tation and so revokes the curse. Such evil practices, obviously 
 having blackmail and the satisfaction of personal enmity as 
 their motives, are no part of the Toda religion. The dairy- 
 men priests have nothing to do with them. They are anti- 
 social; instead of conserving socially recognized values, they 
 are antagonistic to such values. They are as clearly magical 
 as they are non-religious. Like religion they involve the 
 invocation of some kind of mysterious, supernatural power ; but 
 unlike religion they seem to employ this power in a manner that 
 is not conducive to the general welfare. We may therefore style 
 them instances of non-religious magic. 
 
 Ill Lessons from Toda Religion 
 
 What lessons regarding religion may we learn from the 
 Todas? (1) Religion tends to center about the conservation 
 of values of most importance at the present time. (2) If not 
 sufficiently connected with the social values that concern a 
 people, even gods may degenerate, and owe their survival 
 chiefly to non-religious purposes, like sorcery. It is hard to 
 decide whether the dairy religion once was connected with gods, 
 but now has been divorced from them ; or whether it is a recent 
 development, instituted to conserve a new value not conserved 
 by the existing gods, and not yet old enough to have developed 
 gods to assist in its conservation. Personally the author is 
 inclined to the latter view ; and believes with Professor Irving 
 King that if the Todas remain long enough undisturbed 
 they will develop new gods in connection with the conservation 
 of what is now their most important value, . But, however this 
 may be, we may safely conclude (3) that religions evolve and 
 change their objects and purposes of worship as the values in 
 which a tribe is vitally concerned become modified ; and (4) that 
 so far as religious ideas, practises, institutions, and even gods 
 fail to grow, and become modified as the vital interests of a 
 people change, they are bound to degenerate, and to become a 
 positive detriment. Our churches and synagogues of to-day 
 may learn a lesson from the Todas in this connection. 
 
 The real, vital religion of the Todas to-day, the dairy ritual, 
 is an attempt to conserve their most important values. It 
 actually does this in part, though not as the Todas imagine. 
 The milk of the sacred buffaloes doubtless is kept pure and 
 
24 DIFFERENTIATION 
 
 sanitary through the prescribed ritual, though probably a 
 great deal of superfluous energy is wasted in accomplishing 
 this. On the other hand, not enough care is probably given 
 to keeping the milk of the ordinary buffalo cows pure. There- 
 fore (5) when religion is employed to conserve a concrete, prac- 
 tical value of a material sort like milk, it ought to be super- 
 seded by science whenever the latter is ready to undertake the 
 task. In this sort of instance we shall expect to find that 
 science has been gradually and very properly supplanting 
 religion. On the other hand, however, the dairy religion is 
 probably conserving for the Todas still more important values 
 than any of which they are yet fully conscious. It is making 
 for tribal solidarity. For a priest to be a public servant and 
 to be devoting himself to the welfare of the community, as he 
 and they believe he is doing, is bound to turn their thoughts 
 ultimately to higher and better things. Insistence on ritual- 
 istic purity in the case of the Hebrews made possible later on 
 the appreciation of moral purity, while from the notion of the 
 desirability of physical cleanliness about the domestic hearth 
 the Greeks learned to appreciate the moral purity of the home 
 and to venerate the virgin goddess Hestia who conserved this 
 value for them. Therefore (6) a religion may actually be 
 conserving different and higher values for a people than those 
 which they consciously endeavor to attain through it. We 
 must always ask, not only, "What does a people consciously 
 seek in their religion?" but also "What benefits, possibly wholly 
 different, are they actually receiving from it?" and too, "May 
 the religious rites develop consciousness of higher moral values 
 in the -future, as a people rises to a higher civilization?" 
 Although the present social value of a religion may not seem 
 to be high, we should inquire, "May it be furnishing the con- 
 ditions out of which a real appreciation of genuine and great 
 moral values may finally develop ?" 
 
 IV The Melanesians. Mana 
 
 In the religious practises, both of the natives of central 
 Australia and of the Todas, as we have seeii, there seems to be 
 implied the belief in some sort of impersonal agency or force 
 that is utilized. A mystical bond must exist between the men 
 and the animals or plants of a totem for the performances of 
 the men to increase the supply of the animals or plants. Some 
 mystical agency must effect the physiological growth of boys 
 
MANA 25 
 
 into men in the case of the initiation ceremonies. Some efficacy 
 not of a purely physical sort must be possessed by a prayer 
 recited by a dairyman priest when caring for his cows. In 
 Toda sorcery the names of gods are invoked, but there seems 
 to be lurking in the bundle of stones and hair charmed by the 
 sorcerer some manner of impersonal force that is distinct and 
 separable from the gods whose names are mentioned in the curse. 
 That is, it hardly seems likely that the gods, by any personal 
 thought on their part, cause harm to come to the man that has 
 been cursed ; the harm comes automatically as a result of the 
 curse. 
 
 In Melanesia this idea of impersonal power or force has been 
 developed much further than among the Australians and Todas, 
 and has received a name, mana. It is impossible to give a 
 logical definition of mana, because it is not a logical concep- 
 tion at all. Races who believe in mana have not yet learned to 
 think in well developed logical categories, 3; or at any rate, 
 they have not applied strict logic to their notion of mana. If a 
 peculiar stone attracts a man's attention, he may think there is 
 mana in it. Its shape seems to resemble fruit of a particular 
 kind. He lays it at the root of a fruit tree of this sort. If 
 there is an abundant crop this shows that he was right ; there 
 is mana in the stone. The point of an arrow is made of a dead 
 man's bone, and tied on with powerful mana charms, which 
 makes it sure to hit. Human sacrifices used to be made, and 
 little bits of the flesh were eaten by young men who desired to 
 get fighting mana. 
 
 Bishop Codrington says, "The Melanesian mind is entirely 
 possessed by the belief in a supernatural power or influence, 
 called almost universally mana. This is what works to effect 
 everything which is beyond the ordinary power of men, outside 
 the common processes of nature ; it is present in the atmosphere 
 of life, attaches itself to persons and to things, and is mani- 
 fested by results which can only be ascribed to its operation. 
 . . . But this power, though itself impersonal, is always 
 connected with some person who directs it ; all spirits have it, 
 ghosts generally, some men. . . Thus all conspicuous success 
 is a proof that a man has mana; his influence depends on the im- 
 pression made on the people's mind that he has it ; he becomes a 
 chief by virtue of it. Hence a man's power, though political 
 or social in its character, is his mana; the word is naturally used 
 in accordance with the native conception of the character of all 
 
20 DIFFERENTIATION 
 
 power and influence as supernatural. If a man has been suc- 
 cessful in fighting, it has not been his natural strength of arm, 
 quickness of eye, or readiness of resource that has won success ; 
 he has certainly got the mana of a spirit or of some deceased 
 warrior to empower him, conveyed in an amulet or a stone around 
 his neck, or a tuft of leaves in his belt, in a tooth hung upon a 
 finger of his bow hand, or in the form of words with which he 
 brings supernatural assistance to his side. If a man's pigs 
 multiply, and his gardens are productive, it is not because he 
 is industrious and looks after his property, but because of the 
 stones full of mana for pigs and yams that he possesses. Of 
 course a yam naturally grows when planted, that is well known, 
 but it will not be very large unless mana comes into play ; a 
 canoe will not be swift unless mana be brought to bear upon it, 
 a wind will not catch many fish, nor an arrow inflict a mortal 
 wound," 4. 
 
 Of the Melanesians, Bishop Codrington says, "The notion 
 of a Supreme Being is altogether foreign to them, or indeed 
 of any being occupying a very elevated place in their world. 
 . . . There is a belief in a force altogether distinct from 
 physical power, which acts in all kinds of ways for good and 
 evil, and which it is of the greatest advantage to possess and 
 control. This is mana. . . . It is a power or influence, not 
 physical and in a way supernatural; but it shews itself in 
 physical force, or in any kind of power or excellence which a 
 man possesses. . . . All Melanesian religion consists, in 
 fact, in getting this mana for one's self, or getting it used for 
 one's benefit all religion, that is, as far as religious practices 
 go, prayers and sacrifices." 
 
 Any man of influence and power is successful because of 
 mana. Men become chiefs because they are credited with hav- 
 ing much mana themselves, and with being able to secure mana 
 from the spirits. A man who was famous for having much 
 mana when alive will be worshipped after death by those who 
 hope he will aid them with his mana. An ordinary man with- 
 out much mana in life would not thus be honored. In the Solo- 
 mon Islands the chief objects of worship are the ghosts of 
 deceased men who had much mana. Bishop Codrington tells 
 of the origin of the worship of one of these. Ganindo was a 
 great fighting man in Florida. On a head hunting expedition 
 he received injuries from which he afterwards died. His head 
 was carefully preserved and a house built for it. On 7 a subse- 
 
MANA 27 
 
 quent head hunting expedition the men felt their canoe rock 
 under them. They said, "Here is a tindalo" (i.e., a ghost that 
 is worshipped because he aids with mana.) To find out who he 
 was they called successively the names of successive tindalos. 
 When Ganindo's name was called the canoe shook again. In 
 the same way they learned what village they were to attack. 
 Retiring successful, they danced about Ganindo's house sing- 
 ing "Our tindalo is strong to kill." A finer temple was built 
 for Ganindo, images made of him and his sisters, his relics were 
 reverently preserved, and sacrifices were offered to him for many 
 years, until finally his worship declined on account of the 
 advance of Christian missionary teaching, 5. 
 
 Similar conceptions are to be found in other primitive 
 religions on the same plane of development. The Pygmies in 
 Africa have a similar notion of oudah. Among North Ameri- 
 can Indian tribes there are words with similar purport. The 
 Algonkin term is manitou. If a man is brave, he possesses much 
 manitou. If such a man is killed by his enemies they will eat 
 his heart to reinforce their own manitou. A young man at his 
 initiation retires alone for long fasting and meditation, and so 
 obtains manitou. Among the Sioux, waJconda is the word. 
 Wild animals that are swift, fleety, and cunning have wdkonda. 
 White men have more waJconda than the Sioux; that is why 
 they defeat them in war. Among the Iroquois the word is 
 orenda; and so on, 6. 
 
 Traces of the conception of mana are to be found among 
 higher civilizations. Persons who believe that to carry a 
 rabbit's foot is going to bring them good luck probably do not 
 attribute the good luck to any personal agency nor do they 
 attribute it to physical causation in accordance with natural 
 law. If such persons were to analyze their thoughts (or rather 
 their feelings upon the subject since they are probably too 
 indefinite to be called thoughts) would they not affirm the con- 
 viction that some vague sort of force, psychical rather than 
 physical, will operate beneficially on account of the presence 
 of the rabbit's foot? And when the southern European peasant 
 fancies that "luck" will come to him because he is wearing some 
 religious emblem that has been bought at the shrine of a saint 
 (without thinking that God or the saint are directly and con- 
 sciously operating in his affairs), this is also mana. Other 
 and more important instances of the probable influence of the 
 
28 DIFFERENTIATION 
 
 mana notion in higher religions will be pointed out in later 
 chapters. 
 
 V Psychological Explanation of MANA 
 Mana is thus a very indefinite term. It is associated with 
 human beings and with spirits, and yet is detachable from them. 
 "It leaves in solution the distinction between the personal and 
 impersonal," as Mr. Marett observes, 7. It is not certain whether 
 the term should be used in the singular or plural number, that 
 is, whether there is a single kind of impersonal force in exist- 
 ence, to which the name is given, or an indefinite number of 
 them. From the accounts, the author would suppose the latter 
 more likely. It is quite possible to give a psychological expla- 
 nation, however, of Melanesian mana, and its equivalents among 
 other races. 
 
 This explanation, as the author believes, is threefold. (1) 
 Everyone at times feels the presence of subconscious impulses 
 that have an influence upon himself and which he cannot under- 
 stand. These are often due to organic conditions, no doubt. 
 On a fresh spring or autumn day, when the air is bracing and 
 our nervous system responds, we feel that we could do almost 
 anything. New vigor seems to be coming into us that we 
 did not know we possessed. Thoughts flash through our 
 minds that appear like revelations. Knowledge that we did not 
 know we had lies ready for our use. Is this not what the 
 savage often means by "having mana"? (2) Ordinary men 
 find that they have increased energy of mind and body when 
 in the society of a leader who has a "strong personality," or 
 "great natural powers of leadership," as they say. Through 
 the influence of such a leader they gain increased confidence in 
 themselves, and can achieve far more than they could alone. 
 The leader's beliefs, sentiments, powers of thinking, and above 
 all, his courage and confidence, spread to his followers. Na- 
 poleon is the instance that first occurs to the mind ; but any 
 great captain in war or in modern industry will serve as an 
 illustration. Does not the Melanesian probably have such 
 experiences in mind when he says that chiefs are able to impart 
 mana to their followers ? (3) A group of persons in an enthusi- 
 astic meeting engender increased emotion of all sorts in one 
 another. This may well seem to each participant to be energy 
 that he receives from outside of his own mind and body. He 
 could never have worked himself up to such a state of enthusi- 
 
PSYCHOLOGY OF MANA 29 
 
 asm and conviction alone. The energy must therefore come to 
 him from without, and be some kind of external force that 
 enters into him on such occasions. War dances, totemic cere- 
 monies, choric festivals, Bacchanalian revels, public mournings, 
 initiation ceremonies, each may well seem to impart its different 
 kinds of mana to the individual participants. 
 
 Not only do we feel such psychic force at the time, but 
 it may continue to influence us afterward. It remains a 
 secret, invisible force, stimulating us to certain actions, 
 restraining us from others. All primitive men are to a very 
 great extent the slaves of customs. What Spencer and Gillen 
 say of the Australians is true generally: "As amongst all 
 savage tribes the Australian native is bound hand and foot 
 by custom. What his fathers did before him he must do," 8 
 The most serious offenses in savage morality are those against 
 tribal custom. Often no reason is sought or thought necessary 
 for a prescribed act except that it has always been customary. 
 
 If the savage could turn philosopher and analyze his feel- 
 ings, ne would probably say that he feels that custom is itself 
 a manifestation of some actually existing impersonal psychical 
 force that impels him to act in certain ways and that he exper- 
 iences the pressure of this force, vehemently restraining him, 
 whenever he has any impulse to transgress the laws of custom. 
 
 The savage, therefore, feels spiritual force that appears 
 external to his own personal consciousness but which impels 
 him to feel and to act differently from what he would do of 
 his own initiative. He objectifies this force and thinks of it as 
 existing in the external world. He projects it into animals, 
 into inanimate objects, into the ghosts which he has seen in 
 dreams or hallucinations, indeed, into everything that attracts 
 his attention and appears to him to be potent and otherwise 
 unexplainable. He seeks to gain more of this force for himself 
 in order to increase his own efficiency physically and mentally. 
 He avoids objects that are "taboo," i.e., that are charged with 
 a kind of mana that would work him evil if he tampered with 
 them. To gain mana that will conserve his values becomes the 
 chief end both of his magic and of his religion. 
 
 VI Is There any Truth in the Mana Conception? 
 
 Is there any truth in the mana conception at all, or is it 
 purely superstition and delusion? Well, that it contains much 
 of these latter nobody can question for a moment. But, if 
 
30 DIFFERENTIATION 
 
 the psychological explanation just offered be correct, it at 
 least serves to call attention to certain profound facts that it 
 is valuable for any folk to take account of and be able to employ 
 in their needs. Savages through mana observances learn to 
 draw upon their subconscious powers, to get increased strength 
 from their leaders, living and dead, to respect the force (usually 
 salutary) of social custom and opinion. So certain profoundly 
 valuable principles, which present day psychology is only just 
 beginning to understand, are made to some extent practically 
 available to savages through the mana notion. So, mixed with 
 much that is untrue and unwholesome, the mana idea crudely 
 calls to the attention, and makes available what is true and 
 useful. Even the agnostic and the atheist must therefore admit 
 that there is some truth, for the savage, in the mana conception. 
 In the opinion of the believer in God, the mana idea contains 
 still further truth. For he believes that there actually is a 
 spiritual Being separate from human minds, whose support is 
 available to men through worship. To him, therefore, the 
 mana conception may appear to be an early, and therefore 
 necessarily a crude manner in which man began to become con- 
 scious of the existence of God, and to learn to gain assistance 
 from Him. To say this, he believes, is not to question the 
 correctness of the psychological explanation of mana in the 
 least; for he admits that it is largely through subconscious 
 experiences and through social intercourse that the individual 
 becomes aware of God and gains help from Him. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 *W. H. R. RIVERS, The Todas. History of Melanesian Society. 
 
 *!RVING KING, Development of Religion, Chap. VI. 
 
 *R. H. CODRINGTON, The Melanesians, especially Chap. VII. 
 
 *E. S. AMES, Psychology of Religious Experiences, Chap. VIII. 
 
 *J. B. PRATT, The Religious Consciousness, pp. 310-316. 
 R. R. MARETT, The Threshold of Religion. 
 FREDERICK SCHLEITER, Religion and Culture, Chap. VII. 
 W. JONES, ""The Algonkin Manitou," Journal of American Folk Lore, 
 Vol. XVIII (1905). 
 
 J. N. B. HEWITT, "Orenda and a Definition of Religion," American 
 Anthropologist, n. s. Vol. IV (1902) pp. 33-46. 
 ANDREW LANG, Magic and Religion. 
 
 F. B. JEVONS, Idea of God in Early Religions. Introduction to the 
 History of Religion. 
 
 J. G. FRAZER, The Golden Bough, Vol. I, esp. pp. 237-240. 
 
 HASTING'S Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics, articles on "mana" (by 
 Marett), "Melanesians" (by Codrington), and "manitu" (by E. Washburn 
 Hopkins). 
 
 *References designated by asterisks are recommended to beginners. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 RELIGION DIFFERENTIATED 
 I The Baganda 
 
 As representative of savage religion after it has become a 
 fully differentiated human interest with specialized institutions, 
 we may properly select the Baganda for study. This central 
 African tribe, situated in Uganda, just west of Lake Victoria 
 Nyanza, directly upon the Equator, possesses all the different 
 forms of savage religious worship. Sixty years ago the tribe 
 is believed to have had a population of three million people. 
 They had a well developed social and political organization, 
 and were skillful in agriculture, cattle raising, and warfare. 
 They may be regarded as considerably farther advanced in 
 most forms of culture than the Australians, the Todas, and 
 the Melanesian races. We are fortunate in possessing accurate 
 information of the Baganda before their institutions had be- 
 come modified to any considerable extent by white influence, 
 through the careful anthropological investigation made by 
 the Reverend John Roscoe, 1, who was among them for twenty- 
 five years, and who profited by the counsel of Professors Frazer 
 and Rivers and other Cambridge anthropologists. 
 
 The objects of Baganda religious worship belong to four 
 classes: (1) gods, national and local; (2) fetiches; (3) 
 amulets; (4) ghosts, of kings and of ordinary people. As 
 there are different native words for each of these, and they 
 seem quite distinct in the natives' minds, judging from Mr. 
 Roscoe's reports, this may be regarded as the classification 
 of the natives themselves. 
 
 II Gods 
 
 Each of the national gods had one or more temples attended 
 bv priests to carry on the worship, and by mediums to reveal 
 the god's will. 
 
 The god of highest rank was Mukasa. He is a benign god 
 who never requires human sacrifices, has nothing to do with 
 war, and seeks to heal the bodies and minds of men. He is the 
 
 31 
 
32 RELIGION DIFFERENTIATED 
 
 god of plenty; food, cattle and children come from him. As 
 god of the lake (Victoria Nyanza) he controls storms, grants 
 safe passage to travelers, and gives fish and other products to 
 men. His chief temple was fine and important, and was reserved 
 for the worship of the king and one or two leading priests. 
 Smaller temples to him were numerous, where ordinary people 
 could go for worship. Large gifts and sacrifices were made to 
 him annually by the king in behalf of the state, and by indi- 
 viduals from time to time, and attached to his temples were 
 large and wealthy estates. The legends say that he was 
 the son of Wanema and Nambubi (ordinary people of the tribe 
 apparently). These legends are so detailed that it seems clear 
 that he must have been an actual historical person, who was 
 revered during his lifetime on account of his wisdom and benevo- 
 lence, and who afterwards developed into a god. The chief 
 wife of Mukasa was the goddess Nalwanga, whose temple stood 
 near his. She was said originally to have been a pythoness, 
 and so we may conjecture that she is a development from totem- 
 istic or animistic belief, and not from an actual historical 
 human being. Her chief function was to assist women in child- 
 birth ; but, as was the case with the other goddesses, her influ- 
 ence was much less than that of the principal gods. A people 
 may to some extent be measured by their deities. That the 
 Baganda have been capable of divine beings so attractive in 
 many ways as Mukasa and Nalwanga is decidedly to their 
 credit. 
 
 The next god in importance to Mukasa was Kibuka, the god 
 of war, who foretold when war would take place, and gave 
 oracles regarding military movements during a campaign. 
 One of his representatives always attended an army, to reveal 
 the god's counsels. Kings and powerful chiefs were continually 
 offering him slaves, and his priesthood was very rich. Pris- 
 oners captured in war were sacrificed to him, being speared or 
 clubbed to death. On special occasions, like the dedication of 
 a new temple, if other victims were not available, innocent and 
 inoffensive people might be captured on the highways and sacri- 
 ficed to him. 
 
 It is worth while to mention several of the other national gods, 
 to indicate the wide variety of values which the Baganda sought 
 to conserve through gods. Kaumpuli, the god of plague, 
 dwelt in a deep hole in his temple, which was securely covered 
 to keep him from escaping and leaving the country. This hole 
 
THE BAGANDA 33 
 
 could only be effectually covered by means of wild cat skins, 
 and hundreds of these little animals were needed every year for 
 the purpose. It was the duty of his priests to cleanse houses 
 and gardens where plague had broken out and to treat and 
 nurse the sick. Musisi was responsible for earthquakes. He 
 was said to dwell in the center of the earth and to cause earth- 
 quakes when he moved about. When there were earth tremors, 
 those who had his fetiches near, patted them, and asked the 
 god to keep quiet. He was not much consulted by the people, 
 but requested to keep quiet. These two gods are perhaps 
 objects of fear which it is necessary to propitiate; they are 
 hardly objects of reverence and devotion like Mukasa and 
 Kibuka, and there do not seem to be the rich variety of legends 
 connected with them. They are less anthropomorphic, but they 
 clearly represent values of concern to the tribe. There was 
 also Nagawonyi who was thought to be able to end drought or 
 famine by her influence with the gods who controlled the 
 elements and so was appealed to in times of scarcity. Offerings 
 were made by the king at the bidding of the other gods, to 
 Walumba, the god of death, to prevent his killing the people 
 wholesale. The souls of the dead had to go to his residence 
 and give an account of their deeds, after which they were free 
 to return to their own clans and resume their ordinary habitat 
 near the graves where their bodies were. A great variety of 
 other concrete values were associated with various other deities, 
 among whom the god of the chase was perhaps most important. 
 There seem to have been gods connected closely with some of 
 the totems, e.g., the Leopard, Heart, and Grasshopper totems. 
 About Katonda, "the father of the gods," who was said to have 
 created all things, little was known. Offerings of cattle were 
 sometimes made to him, and he had a small temple and a medium 
 who gave oracles, but he received comparatively little honor or 
 attention. As is commonly the case in Africa, attention is 
 given to gods connected with immediate wants or material 
 objects close at hand, and not with a god who probably owes 
 his origin merely to intellectual curiosity about the origin of 
 things. 
 
 Besides these national gods there were many local spirits of 
 different kinds. Every river, for instance, had a spirit credited 
 with powers for good and evil. Many hills were thought dan- 
 gerous, because they were guarded by the ghosts of wild animals 
 
34 RELIGION DIFFERENTIATED 
 
 such as lions and leopards. There are also various gods of the 
 forests. 
 
 Ill Fetiches 
 
 Fetiches were manufactured objects supposed to possess 
 supernatural powers for averting evil and bringing good to 
 their possessors. Every house would have a supply of them, 
 and offerings of food and drink were regularly made before 
 them. Fetiches were also made to wear upon the person, or 
 carry about with one. Some were entire horns of antelopes or 
 buffaloes, or the tips of horns, filled by the medicine men with 
 herbs and clay, and the open end stopped and sometimes decor- 
 ated with pieces of brass or iron. "The horns were thought to 
 have become vehicles of the god by whose name they were called, 
 and whose powers they were supposed to convey to those who 
 owned them," and the medicine with which they were filled con- 
 veyed "the powers of the god" in addition to their ordinary 
 curative properties as drugs, 2. (In other words, I think we may 
 say, a fetich contains mana of the god whose name it bears.) 
 Mere possession of a fetich was thought to ward off evil from 
 a house and bring blessing upon it. There were various kinds 
 of fetiches. The fetich Nambaga insured the recovery of sick 
 persons. Zinga was the fetich of thieves, who would carry it in 
 a leather case with them, and thereby be rendered invisible to 
 the people they meant to rob. Luboa was used by hunters and 
 warriors to cast a spell over wild animals or human enemies 
 and make them powerless to attack, while at the same time it 
 served the owner and made his aim sure. Sometimes the owner 
 of this fetich would make a feast in its honor ; a fowl would be 
 killed, the blood of its tongue would be spilled on the fetich, 
 and the bird be cooked and eaten by the warrior and his friends 
 in the presence of the fetich. 
 
 The king's fetiches were more elaborate, and some of them 
 were personified, and so were much more like gods than ordinary 
 fetiches. Mbajwe, for instance, had a temple, priest, and 
 female medium, and a woman who was regarded as the fetich's 
 wife. This fetich was made of rope, like a serpent, with clay 
 to imitate the serpent's head. Sometimes the king sent pris- 
 oners to this fetich for trial. One prisoner would act as spokes- 
 man for the rest, and try to clear himself and his party, but 
 the medium who was possessed by the fetich would reply, "It is 
 so" after the statements of each charge, and the fetich invar- 
 iably found the prisoners guilty, and they were accordingly 
 
AMULETS 35 
 
 put to death. Nantaba, a gourd stitched in a piece of goat skin 
 and decorated with cowry shells and beads, and Semwina, a 
 stout stick cut with elaborate ceremonial, were prepared at the 
 accession of a king by his paternal grandmother's clan. Both 
 stick and gourd had temples and women guardians, and were 
 used in ceremonies attended by the king's wives. Offerings of 
 food and beer were made to the fetiches and prayers were 
 addressed to them for fertility. Among the king's other fetiches 
 were: Kizinga, which was sent with the army to ensure much 
 spoil in women and cattle; Mbagirangese, which the king 
 handed to any person whom he was about to put to death, since 
 it gave the king power over the ghost of the person about to be 
 killed so that it could not return and haunt the king; and 
 Sekabemba, which the king gave secretly to a man commissioned 
 by him to rob the rich chiefs and share the plunder with him. 
 
 The fetiches of the Baganda are not so anthropomorphic as 
 the gods, and have few myths and legends centering about them. 
 It would appear possible, however, that some of these fetiches, 
 which have temples and mediums, are well on the way to become 
 gods. All of them seem clearly to imply the notion of mana, 
 and all conserve values that are socially recognized by the 
 natives, morally questionable as certain of these values would 
 be from the point of view of civilized man. 
 
 IV Amulets 
 
 Amulets were made, as a rule, of wood, and never received 
 offerings or supplications. They were manufactured and sold 
 by the medicine men, to be carried, or worn on the person, and 
 were often made into ornaments. An amulet was efficacious for 
 one purpose only to heal or prevent some particular disease ; 
 or, in the case of women, to effect fecundity. Some amulets 
 were for personal application ; they would be rubbed on a stone 
 or scraped with a knife, and the powder thus obtained might 
 be mixed with water or beer and taken internally, or it might 
 be mixed with butter and applied to the skin outwardly. 
 
 V Ghosts 
 
 Probably in the course of ordinary life the Baganda more 
 often were in intimate relationship with ghosts than with gods. 
 The ghosts of deceased kings were honored by temples where 
 their jaw bones and umbilical cords were carefully preserved, 
 and where through mediums the deceased king made revelations 
 
36 RELIGION DIFFERENTIATED 
 
 concerning the State and advised the living king ; warning him, 
 for instance, when war was likely to break out. "When the 
 medium was under the influence of the ghost he spoke in the 
 same tone and used the same expressions as those which the 
 late king had been accustomed to use," 3. "It was an excep- 
 tionally great day when the reigning king went to visit the 
 temple of his predecessor; thousands of people assembled to 
 witness the sight and to hear the oracle. When the king had 
 left the temple, and was being conducted back, he invariably 
 gave an order to catch everyone who had not passed a certain 
 place which he mentioned ; the order was given suddenly, and 
 the body-guard promptly carried it out, capturing and binding 
 all whom they could lay hands on, if they had not passed the 
 spot indicated by the king. The captives were taken back to 
 the temple and slain within its precincts, in order that the 
 ghosts might minister to the late king's ghost," 4. 
 
 The ghosts of common people were honored, but in smaller 
 measure. Small shrines were built near the graves of the 
 deceased, where relatives placed offerings of beer or clothing. 
 The majority of ghosts were beneficient and assisted the mem- 
 bers of the clan to which they belonged. (Savages have human 
 feelings, and it seems safe to infer from accounts of other 
 African races that the recently bereaved derive real comfort 
 from their belief that their dead are interested in them, and are 
 pleased with their offerings, and can give them counsel and 
 assistance.) 
 
 Human sacrifices were common. Kibuka, as we have seen, 
 and several of the other gods and fetiches regularly de- 
 manded them, and it was believed that calamities would come 
 upon the nation if they were not offered. There was a sacrifi- 
 cial place where persons guilty of incest or adultery were 
 often clubbed or speared to death. "Those who have taken part 
 in these executions bear witness how seldom a victim, whether 
 man or woman, raised his voice to protest or appeal against 
 the treatment meted out to him. The victims went to death 
 (so they thought) to save their country and race from some 
 calamity, and they laid down their lives without a murmur or 
 a struggle," 5. Here it will be observed, religion seems to be 
 beginning to conserve moral values by demanding the execution 
 of wrong doers in order to prevent national calamity ; it also, 
 however, still demands the sacrifice of wholly innocent persons 
 
MAGIC 37 
 
 when others are not available in order to satisfy the gods' 
 thirst for blood. Sacrifices of both sorts are for the public 
 benefit, and so are believed to conserve social welfare. 
 
 VI Magic 
 
 Medicine men in addition to furnishing amulets for medicinal 
 purposes, were skilful in sorcery and divination. Enemies could 
 be cursed, injured, or killed by the use of magic. For instance, 
 one might "take a fowl, dig a hole in the path leading to the 
 man's house, kill the fowl there, let the blood run into the hole, 
 cut off the fowl's head and bury it with the blood ; he would 
 then ask the gods to bless his medicine, and make it work death 
 to his enemy. The enemy, unconscious of the trap, would walk 
 over it, and in a few days' time he would fall ill and die," 6. 
 Sympathetic magic was greatly feared, and if an enemy were 
 to get hold of any of one's cut or loose hairs, nail parings or 
 spittle, it was thought that he could, by means of magic, com- 
 pass one's death. Pestilence could be averted by the offering 
 of a "scapegoat," viz., by taking a woman and a child 
 together with domestic animals into the country from whence 
 it came, and there breaking their limbs and leaving them to die 
 a lingering death. The disease would thus have been trans- 
 ferred to the country from which it came. Diseases could be 
 magically transferred from individuals to animals, or to other 
 persons, in a similar manner. 
 
 In all such practises, can we not perceive the mana concep- 
 tion? Some mysterious power can be brought into play upon 
 persons, or be transferred from persons and things through the 
 proper technique. Such practises, when for the public welfare, 
 like the aversion of a plague, may be regarded as both magical 
 and religious; they are cases in which the medicine man or 
 priest is acting on behalf of the public, probably at the king's 
 command. When, however, an individual makes use of magic 
 for his own private advantage or to satisfy a private grudge, 
 his action is not an attempt to conserve a socially recognized 
 value, and is not religious. 
 
 VII The Conservation of Values in the Religion of the 
 
 Baganda 
 
 In the case of the Baganda we observe a savage religion 
 which has become a distinctly differentiated interest and 
 activity, with priests, temples, sacrifices, gods, fetiches, amulets, 
 
38 RELIGION DIFFERENTIATED 
 
 spirits, and ghosts, through all of which endeavor is made to 
 secure the conservation of socially recognized values. Through 
 the gods, the king's fetiches, and the ghosts of former kings, 
 there are attempts to conserve national values abundant crops 
 and animal food, victory in war, deliverance from earthquake 
 and pestilence, counsel as to measures for the public safety, 
 and the like. 
 
 Nor are the private needs of the individual and the localized 
 needs of the family overlooked in this religion. Individuals 
 may go to Mukasa's temples, and make offerings and prayers 
 for fish, for children, and for the satisfaction of other private 
 wants that are of little or no national concern, yet are socially 
 recognized "values, i.e., values that the public generally would 
 approve of an individual seeking to conserve. The fetiches 
 kept in the home, and fetiches worn on the person are also 
 employed in the endeavor to conserve socially recognized values 
 that concern the private family or the individual. The same 
 is true of the worship of the ghosts of its own deceased members 
 by the living members of the family. 
 
 Objectifications of the religious agency, like gods, fetiches, 
 and ghosts, furnish concrete imagery and serve to fixate the 
 attention. They therefore doubtless strengthen the faith of the 
 worshipper. In this way they clearly represent a psychological 
 advance over the religions of the central Australians and of 
 the Todas. A further advance that is both psychological 
 and moral may be noted in the case of spirits, ghosts and gods. 
 Since these are personal, anthropomorphic beings, it is possible 
 to attribute to them human emotions and sympathies. Through 
 them, therefore, more intimate and personal values can be 
 conserved. Deceased kings can be thought to feel a vital 
 personal interest and sympathy in the nation's welfare. Gods 
 may not be expected to feel so personal an interest as deceased 
 kings ; but more power and sublimity can be attached to them ; 
 what is lost in personal sympathy is compensated for by 
 increased power and ability to help. In like manner, it is natural 
 to believe that deceased members of the family are interested 
 in its welfare, and conservation is sought of very human 
 values indeed ; comfort to those in bereavement, the opportu- 
 nity to share a feast with one's dead, and to get advice and 
 assistance from them. It is easy to see why most savage 
 peoples make much of ancestral worship, and why the latter 
 
VALUES CONSERVED 39 
 
 often persists even in advanced civilizations such as those of 
 China and Japan. 
 
 What are the real values actually conserved by the Baganda 
 religion? Is there a genuine advance beyond the less developed 
 religions that have been considered in previous chapters ? The 
 answer must on the whole be in the affirmative. To be sure, 
 there is nothing, so far as the author knows, in any other 
 savage religion quite so fine in its moral appeal to the growing 
 youth as the Australian initiation ceremonial. But the differ- 
 entiated religious worship of the Baganda seems undoubtedly 
 to afford a far more effective machine for conserving the values 
 which the nation knows, for the reasons mentioned in the pre- 
 ceding paragraph. It undoubtedly makes for solidarity, and 
 constitutes a powerful factor in the evolution of social con- 
 sciousness, both in the nation and in the family. The conduct 
 of all savages when they have reached the warlike stage of the 
 Baganda, appears more repulsive in many ways than the sim- 
 pler, more humane morality of less developed folk like the 
 Arunta. However, warfare appears to have been a necessary, 
 though stern and cruel, discipline through which every race 
 that has become civilized has had to pass. The lessons of self- 
 sacrifice and obedience, including loyalty to one's clan to the 
 death, if need be, seem an essential preliminary to the develop- 
 ment of equitable government, of national public spiritedness 
 and patriotism, of willingness to self-sacrifice and social service. 
 In Borneo travellers find the bloodthirsty head-hunters more 
 hospitable, more brave, energetic, manly, and truthful, more 
 chaste, and kind to women and children, and in other ways 
 more morally attractive than their milder and less warlike 
 but more cowardly, treacherous, dishonest and unchaste neigh- 
 bors, 7. The Romans in ancient times and the British in modern 
 times, nations descended from mixtures of unusually warlike 
 stocks, have been pre-eminently successful in the development, 
 both of law and government, and also in an impartial love for 
 justice. This is one reason why they have become capable of 
 administering fairer and more sympathetic rule to alien races 
 than the latter could independently obtain for themselves. 
 The Chinese and Hindu races whose ancestors were less warlike 
 or remained less long in the warlike stage, and whose religions 
 of peace have had fuller sway and dominance, have not devel- 
 oped these sides of moral character to an equal extent, fine 
 as has been their moral development in other respects. So we 
 
40 RELIGION DIFFERENTIATED 
 
 may well forgive the Baganda their devotion to the war god, 
 Kibuka, and their cruel human sacrifices. British rule now, 
 no doubt, has abolished them. We may trust that they have ful- 
 filled their purpose, and that white administrators have found 
 for the Baganda less inhuman ways by which they now conserve 
 their socially recognized values. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 *JOHN ROSCOE, The Baganda, especially Chap. IX. 
 *MARY H. KINGSLEY, West African Studies. Travels in West Africa. 
 *DUDLEY KIDD, The Essential Kafir. 
 
 A. B. ELLIS, The Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast. The Ewe- 
 speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast. The Yoruba-speaking Peoples of 
 the Slave' Coast. 
 
 A. G. LEONARD, The Lower Niger and Its Tribes. 
 MEROME Down, The Negro Races, Chapters XXIII-XXVII. 
 J. G. FRAZER, Totemism and Exogamy, Vol. II, pp. 463-513 (The 
 Baganda). .... . 
 
 CHARLES HOSE and WILLIAM MCDOUOALL, tThe Pagari Tribes of Borneo, 
 Vol. II, Chapters XIII-XVII. 
 
 R. E. DENNETT, At the Back of the Black Man's Mind. 
 See also references to the two preceding chapters, 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 DEFINITION OF RELIGION. RELATION OF RELIGION 
 TO OTHER HUMAN ACTIVITIES 
 
 I Purpose of the Definition 
 
 THE purpose of the present chapter will be to set forth a 
 definition of religion based upon its psychological character- 
 istics. While the preceding chapters and the one immediately 
 following are concerned with primitive religions, it will be best 
 to make the definition of religion, now to be set forth, inclusive 
 both of primitive religions and of higher religions. The defini- 
 tion will thus serve both as a summary of the ground already 
 covered, and as an introduction to that yet to be traversed 
 in the volume as a whole. The definition now to be attempted 
 must be purely descriptive a characterization of religion as 
 it has been and is. It will in no sense be normative, or define 
 what religion ought to be, 1. The definition must be broad 
 enough to cover all types of religion, and yet clear cut enough 
 to differentiate religion from related activities liable to be con- 
 fused with it, such as animism and magic in the case of primitive 
 religions, and morality, art, and science in advanced religions. 
 Later chapters will throw some light upon what religion may be 
 at its best, and what we should seek to make it. 
 
 II Genus of the Definition 
 
 A logical definition begins by stating some genus or larger 
 class to which the term defined belongs. The genus of which 
 religion is an instance is that of endeavor to secure the conser- 
 vation of socially recognized values. 
 
 Let us carefully scrutinize each of the separate expressions 
 in this genus. "Values," as the preceding chapters have taught 
 us, in the case of primitive religions are very concrete, material, 
 practical such things as food, water, protection from storms, 
 victory in war, posterity, counsel what to do in important 
 crises in human affairs. In the ethical religions, as we shall 
 see in later chapters, man is more self-conscious, and reflective, 
 and possesses deeper moral insight, 2. Ethical religions are 
 
 41 
 
42 DEFINITION OF RELIGION 
 
 accordingly chiefly concerned with such values as purity of 
 heart, forgiveness of sins, virtue, and other goods of an inner, 
 spiritual nature that refer more to the mental and moral states 
 of the worshipper than to outward physical conditions. 
 
 One characteristic applies to all the values of both natural 
 and ethical religions. The values are all "socially recognized." 
 That is, they are either values that are recognized by many 
 persons, if not by all, to concern the welfare as a whole of the 
 social group (family, totem, tribe, nation), or else they are 
 values recognized to be morally right and proper for individuals 
 to seek for their own benefit. Victory in war, deliverance from 
 pestilence or famine, and counsel regarding important decisions 
 that must be made by the group are obviously matters of 
 general public concern, and endeavor may be made to conserve 
 them through religion. The same is true of the efforts of a 
 family to maintain solidarity with its deceased members, leading 
 it to share delicacies of food with them, to seek the repose of 
 their souls, to ask their counsel, and to endeavor to avert their 
 wrath. 
 
 The individual is far less conscious of himself as an indi- 
 vidual among savages than among civilized nations ; for there 
 is less specialization of industries and fewer differences in social 
 position; custom determines the conduct of everyone in most 
 matters and leaves comparatively little room for personal 
 choice. But of course even savages have private wants, a man 
 desires vengeance upon an enemy, or a woman desires to bear 
 a son. Such values may be socially recognized. They are not 
 matters of public concern to any great extent; but the man 
 has been unfairly treated, and his friends would like to see him 
 victorious over the man who wronged him ; it is a great happi- 
 ness for a woman to be a mother, and the barren wife is pitied. 
 Such values are socially recognized in the sense of our definition. 
 So we may readily see how, among the Baganda, for instance, 
 such persons might seek these goods for themselves by making 
 little gifts to their fetiches at home or by bringing larger 
 offerings to the gods at the temples. But if a man's private 
 vengeance would be inimical to the public welfare, if it would 
 promote feuds and dissensions where united action is necessary, 
 he would not be seeking socially recognized values. He could 
 not seek the aid of religion, and would have to go to sorcerers 
 and other shady folk for supernatural assistance in carrying 
 out his anti-social act. 
 
No one can make a religion for himself any more than he 
 can devise a language of his own ; religion is a slow development 
 of group life and common experiences. The values which it 
 endeavors to conserve are therefore necessarily values which 
 are socially recognized, although not necessarily values of 
 social concern or importance. In ethical religions prevailing 
 among civilized nations with more pronounced individualism, 
 more private needs are recognized than is the case in the natural 
 religions; but this does not invalidate the definition. 
 
 Religion is an "endeavor to secure the conservation of 
 socially recognized values." "Conservation" is intended in a 
 wide sense of the word. It includes quantitative increase of the 
 object that is of value, in the case of food, rain, and other 
 material goods. It also includes enhancement or intensification 
 of the value, especially in the case of more spiritual goods 
 such as bravery, loyalty, purity of heart, social solidarity, 
 sense of divine presence and support, and the like. In this 
 sense, values are often, though the author thinks not always 
 or necessarily, "raised to a higher power of themselves," to 
 use a phrase of Professor Coe's, 3. By saying that "religion is 
 an endeavor to secure the conservation of socially recognized 
 values, instead of more simply, that it is an endeavor to conserve 
 them, it is implied that the religious act sacrifice, prayer, or 
 whatever it be does not endeavor directly, of itself to effect 
 the desired result, but that it seeks to do so through the medium 
 of a particular kind of agency, later to be described. 
 
 "Religion is an endeavor to secure the conservation of 
 socially recognized values." The fl endeavor" need not be 
 successful. Often, indeed, especially in savage religions, we 
 perceive it to be wholly futile, as in the case of the Australian 
 ceremonies to secure rain and to increase the food supply. 
 .The practise of religion always involves a minimum of faith, 
 or confidence in the efficacy of the religious act, enough to 
 make it seem worth while to try to secure the result in that way. 
 
 Religion is primarily a matter of activity of some kind or 
 other ; it is volitional in its nature, a conation, the expression 
 of desire for some sort of a value. It is a mistake to over- 
 emphasize the significance of the overtly emotional or intellectual 
 phases of religion which are all incidental to the carrying out 
 of this endeavor. Mystic trance and rapture, with their 
 heightened emotional intensity, myth and dogma with their 
 intellectual explanations, law and ritual with their prescrip- 
 
44 DEFINITION OF RELIGION 
 
 tions regarding conduct, are all manners in which the religious 
 endeavor manifests itself, and must be regarded rather as the 
 fruits or expressions of religion than as fundamental properties 
 in terms of which it can be defined. 
 
 Ill The Differentia 
 
 The genus which has just been set forth "the endeavor to 
 secure the conservation of socially recognized values" is broad 
 enough to include everything that ought properly to be called 
 religion. It is an adequate genus. Under this genus, however, 
 much that is not religion is also included, some phases, at 
 least, of magic, science, art, morality, and law. The definition 
 must therefore be completed by a differentia, which will delimit 
 the field of religion from the other forms of endeavor to secure 
 the conservation of socially recognized values that are not 
 religious. 
 
 In the case of religious endeavor the conservation of values 
 is always sought through a specific and peculiar kind of agency, 
 and, the attitude toward this agency is of a definite sort. In) 
 the case of the natives of Australia and of the Toda dairy 
 ritual we have seen that some sort of impersonal agency appears 
 to be implied in their conduct, though the agency has not yet 
 received a name. Melanesians and North American Indians 
 we also saw, have given this agency a name mana, manitou, 
 ejbc. The Baganda have identified this agency with a variety of 
 objects with gods, with ancestral ghosts, with nature spirits, 
 with fetiches half animate and half inanimate, and with amulets 
 that are wholly inanimate. The agency in none of these cases 
 is physical. It differs from the operations of ordinary natural 
 objects as they go on of themselves apart from the presence 
 of mana, spirits, and other influences which are akin to human 
 mental experiences. 
 
 Among primitive religions the agency sought to be evoked 
 may be simply mana, attributed to or identified with any of 
 the objects mentioned. In higher religions the agency is more 
 refined than mana, and is more moral in its character. It 
 remains some sort of spiritual power that is sometimes thought 
 directly to modify the external world as in the collects for rain 
 and dry weather ; but as reflective man becomes more discrimi- 
 nating, it is regarded rather as reinforcing the individual's own 
 personality and so making him more efficient. Professor 
 Leuba's investigations reveal the interesting fact that there 
 
DIFFERENTIA 45 
 
 are educated Americans to-day with very deep religious feelings 
 who pray and know that they feel spiritual reinforcement, in 
 consequence, and yet are not at all sure that this is not due 
 wholly to the influx of energy from the sub-conscious mental 
 and physical resources of their own organisms, 4. Even in this 
 case, however, spiritual reinforcement is entering the indi- 
 vidual^ consciousness from a source that appears to him to be 
 external to his own conscious waking self at that time; it in 
 that sense, at least, comes from without his "ego." In 
 exceptional as well as in typical religious experiences, a specific 
 action of some sort is requisite to evoke the agency sacrifice, 
 spell and incantation, prayer, or meditation. The religious 
 act is a distinct act of the worshipper's consciousness, enlisting 
 in his service an agency other than what at that time he 
 identifies with his "ego," i. e., his conscious self. 
 
 While living human beings have fairly often become objects 
 of worship, the most famous instances being Egyptian kings 
 and Roman emperors, such persons have always been regarded 
 as superhuman or supernatural in some sense, or as divinities, 5. 
 Man refuses to worship his fellow man as such. 
 
 Moreover the attitude felt by the religious worshipper is 
 unique in some respects. It is as Schleiermacher expressed 
 it, "a feeling of absolute dependence." If the source of 
 the agency is personal, a deceased ancestor or friend, a 
 nature spirit, a saint, a hero, a god, or God, this feeling 
 may be one of fear or awe, of love or affection, and will very 
 likely be of all these combined into a sentiment of loyalty and 
 reverence, obligation and aspiration. As religions evolve, the 
 tendency is for the sentiment toward the personal object of 
 religious devotion to become enriched, enlarged, and enhanced. 
 If the source of the agency is impersonal, or is not distinguished 
 from the agency itself, it is still possible to discover a mental 
 attitude of dependence quite different from that felt toward 
 purely physical nature. The Australian native has not discrim- 
 inated between the agency and its source, nor has he given a 
 name to either, yet he feels spiritually impressed and uplifted 
 as a result of initiation or intichiuma ceremony, and he can be 
 said to be dependent upon the ceremony in this feeling. Such 
 an attitude is quite different from his feeling toward any 
 merely physical object of value to him. While in the purer 
 forms of the Buddhist religion, the Buddha personally plays 
 no part in the efficacy of the religious exercises through which 
 
46 DEFINITION OF RELIGION 
 
 man may attain salvation, the attitude toward these exercises 
 is different from that which would be felt toward any physical 
 or mental gymnastics performed in a non-religious way for 
 the good of body or mL^l. The attitude in this religion implies, 
 a feeling, if not of love or awe, at least of dependence upon the 
 ceremony that affords increase of spiritual power. It implies 
 that the world order is essentially just and moral. It is note- 
 worthy that worshippers often tenderly place flowers before 
 the picture or image of the Buddha, who first revealed to man 
 the way of salvation. The readiness with which this homage 
 to the Buddha has developed in the less pure forms of the 
 religion into downright worship of him as well as of gods and 
 Boddhisattvas, shows that Buddhism in its purely atheistic 
 form fails fully to satisfy the human impulse to develop senti- 
 ments of love and loyalty to the source of spiritual power 
 gained through religion. 
 
 While it is hard to devise an expression that will apply to 
 all the different religious attitudes that have been manifested 
 in human history, it is safe to say that they all imply a very 
 different feeling than is present in industrial or scientific 
 pursuits or in magical activities of a non-religious sort. In the 
 case of the latter, objects are manipulated or exploited to gain 
 valuable results, but the feeling is certainly not one of depend- 
 ence in the sense in which the term is here intended. A farmer 
 may feel economically dependent upon the soil and rain for 
 the growth of his crops, just as a clerk may feel dependent 
 on his salary, but this is a different kind of dependence. The 
 feeling of dependence in religion is more akin to the dependence 
 which man feels toward other human beings who may help or 
 harm him, and this feeling is present in religion, even in the 
 cases where the religious agency is not attributed to or identified 
 with a personal being. 
 
 Science and industry and the love of knowledge also differ 
 fundamentally from religion in their attitudes and purposes. 
 Science and industry are interested in the mechanical exploita- 
 tion of nature. Nature is inert and passive; so man may 
 manipulate nature for industrial purposes, or observe it to 
 ascertain the regular succession of phenomena which he may 
 describe in the "laws of natural science." The religious 
 attitude, on the other hand, is always a feeling of dependence 
 toward the agency in a manner that implies love, fear, or other 
 human emotions never manifested in the same way in science 
 
COMPARATIVE RELIGION 47 
 
 or industry. The love of knowledge for its own sake in the 
 case of the primitive religions gives rise to myths, and in the 
 higher religion to philosophy and theology. These last may 
 be and often are utilized by religion to assist it in carrying 
 out its efforts. But they are always used by religion as means 
 of an incidental sort. So far as they strengthen piety, well and 
 good. But they are only aids to help man to understand what 
 he believes in his religion. The moment a man criticizes them 
 from purely intellectual interest, he is passing from the 
 religious attitude to a distinctly secular and non-religious 
 standpoint. Philosophy and science owe much in their origin 
 to religion ; but, before they advance far, they always become 
 independent interests. 
 
 The differentia of religion has now been explained. It has 
 been shown how religion differs from other attempts to secure 
 the conservation of socially recognized values. The definition 
 as a whole, including both genus and differentia, is therefore 
 this: Religion is the endeavor to secure the conservation 
 of socially recognized values through specific actions that are 
 believed to evoke some agency different from the ordinary ego 
 of the individual, or from other merely human beings, and that 
 imply a feeling of dependence upon this agency, 6. 
 
 IV Comparative Religion 
 
 This definition suggests two ways in which religions may 
 readily be compared with one another for purposes of study. 
 (1) We may compare their ends, i. e., we may examine the 
 different types of socially recognized values which they endeavor 
 to conserve. How primitive religions differ from ethical 
 religions in this respect has already been indicated. All the 
 ethical religions emphasize much the same moral precepts for 
 the conduct of everyday life, they are unanimous in enj oining 
 truthfulness, regard for property rights, chastity, honor of 
 parents, forgiveness of enemies, and the like. To this extent 
 the socially recognized values of the ethical religions are 
 similar. But the ethical religions differ greatly in their inter- 
 pretation of the meaning of life as a whole, of what philosophers 
 would call the highest good. While it is not easy to formulate 
 the highest good taught by each of the higher religions so as 
 to include the views of all of its thoughtful adherents, each 
 in a general sense has a distinctive ethical standpoint. The 
 attitude toward life of the philosophical Brahman is markedly 
 
48 DEFINITION OF RELIGION 
 
 different from that of the primitive Buddhist, and both are still 
 more unlike the Confucian, the Jew, and the Christian. 
 
 (2) We may compare the different means employed by the 
 various religions for the purpose of securing these ends, of 
 conserving the values which they esteem. From this standpoint 
 a religion is an instrumentality, a mode of procedure used for 
 various ends. Each religion has its threefold technique: 
 (a) its ritual including sacrifices and prayers; (b) its myths 
 and its dogmas and other intellectual explanations why this 
 ritual is necessary and how it works; (c) its own institutional 
 organisation for carrying on its ritual, teaching its intellectual 
 formulations and for handing both down to the next generation. 
 The comparative study of liturgies, mythologies, theologies, 
 systems of ecclesiastical organisation, of canon law, and of 
 ecclesiastical architecture all come under the head of technique ; 
 for they are all products that have developed in the course of 
 endeavoring to secure the conservation of socially recognized 
 values. They must thus be regarded if they are kept in the 
 right perspective. To make comparative religion almost 
 exclusively a study of myths, dogmas, or rituals, is to 
 exaggerate the real significance of these features of religious 
 technique. 
 
 V Religion and Animism 
 
 The connection between primitive religion and animism has 
 often been misunderstood, and it is necessary to indicate how the 
 two are related from the standpoint of the definition of religion. 
 Animism is a term introduced by the late Professor Tylor in his 
 famous Primitive Culture, one of the most important works of 
 the last generation upon the anthropological side of religion. 
 The truth in "animism" seems to be that many savages believe 
 that all objects about them to which their attention is called, are 
 either alive or are inhabited by spirits. A tree, a mountain, a 
 river, the sea, the sky, even a stone or a blade of grass are 
 regarded as animate. Not all of these objects, or the spirits 
 which he believes inhabit them, may be of religious concern to the 
 savage. The Tshi of the west African coast, for instance, pay 
 little attention to spirits of bushes, grasses, and stones, since 
 these are not powerful and could do them little good or harm ; 
 but they are deeply concerned with the spirits of rivers and 
 lagoons, of the sea and the mountains. When the spirit is dis- 
 tinguished from the material object, and thought to inhabit it, it 
 
ANIMISM 49 
 
 is supposed to be able to leave it temporarily or permanently. 
 The spirits of men wander in their dreams from the places 
 where their bodies lie sleeping. The West African natives think 
 a man's dream soul sometimes becomes lost under such circum- 
 stances, and the services of a medicine man are required to 
 effect its recovery, 7. The Australian ghosts remain in the 
 vicinity of their churinga, which may be found when the ghost 
 is again to be born a living member of the tribe. The souls 
 of the human dead are thought to pass into the bodies of 
 animals, or to inhabit trees, stones, fetiches or whatever objects 
 may appeal to their fancy. Among the Niger tribes it has 
 been reported that such ancestral ghosts wish to remain with 
 the tribe, and if a tribe is forced to migrate, it carefully takes 
 the fetiches inhabited by ghosts with it, and invites ghosts 
 who dwell in trees, rocks and other immovable objects to enter 
 portable fetiches that the tribe may carry away with them, 8. 
 Savages very often believe both in nature spirits which never 
 were human beings, but are the "souls" of various physical 
 objects about them that attract their attention and inspire 
 their awe, and ghosts, the souls of deceased human beings and 
 animals. It is convenient to reserve the word "spirits" to 
 designate the nature spirits, and to use "ghosts" to designate 
 the deceased men and animals. Many anthropological writers 
 have adopted this usage. 
 
 While animism is a very general, perhaps almost universal 
 belief among savages, few contemporary writers believe that 
 religion originated in animism. The natives of Central 
 Australia, as we have seen, have a good many animistic beliefs 
 and they also have religious practices, but the latter are not 
 connected with the former to any extent. The Toda dairy 
 ritual bears no relation to their animistic beliefs. The Baganda 
 gods are probably all to be regarded as developments from 
 nature spirits and ancestral human or animal ghosts, but not 
 all of their fetiches seem to be animistic. And so one could 
 go on with other savage peoples and find that animism, while 
 often connected with religious beliefs, is by no means universally 
 so connected. 
 
 The universal characteristic of religion, as we have seen, is 
 the belief in a peculiar sort of agency that can be utilized to 
 conserve values. This agency may or may not be referred 
 to a personal source. If it is referred to a personal source 
 we shall find animism associated with religion. If spirits or 
 
50 DEFINITION OF RELIGION 
 
 ghosts are thought to possess mana it will be natural for man 
 to seek to get on good terms with them so that they will impart 
 mana to him. So we may say that religion may or may not 
 seek to conserve its values through mana imparted by spirits 
 or ghosts, and so may or may not be animistic. Likewise 
 animistic beliefs may exist in a tribe quite apart from its 
 religion, or they may be features of the religion. Neither 
 religion nor animism necessarily involves the other. But if 
 animistic beliefs are prominent in the minds of savages we may 
 expect them sooner or later to color their religion. That 
 would be natural enough. If man thinks that there are powerful 
 spirits and ghosts about, he will sooner or later seek to 
 conciliate them. But this is only one of the ways, and 
 apparently not the original way in which man sought to 
 conserve values through religion. 
 
 The origin of animistic beliefs needs not greatly to concern 
 us here. Religion and animism have had independent origins. 
 However, a few words may be said upon the subject. The 
 psychology of animism is really very simple, and does not 
 require such elaborate explanations as are often advanced for 
 it. Animals react to men and other animals in a different 
 manner than to inanimate objects, as Professor Leuba has 
 pointed out, 9. The animal does not have animistic beliefs 
 because he possesses few or no free images and ideas and his 
 consciousness is confined to immediate perception; we might 
 say that he has no animistic beliefs because he has no beliefs 
 at all. The minds of savages have developed to the point where 
 free images and ideas are abundant, but they do not have 
 perfect logical control over them, so that the images and ideas 
 which they have derived from animate objects sometimes 
 become fancifully associated with inanimate objects. Whatever 
 appears novel or irregular or unexplanable suggests the ideas 
 of living objects, and hence appears alive. Dreams, hallucina- 
 tions, hysteria, epilepsy, the departure of the breath at death, 
 and like phenomena may have suggested that what makes a 
 thing alive is something separable from it, and so the notion 
 of souls as distinct from the bodies which they inhabit may 
 well have arisen. 
 
 To think that things are alive, or that they have mana in 
 them involves very little reflection; to attribute souls to such 
 objects, but separable from them, seems to involve reflection 
 and may be due to inferences based on observation of such 
 
MAGIC 51 
 
 phenomena. There is therefore nothing particularly strange 
 or problematical about the origin of animism. It is the most 
 natural thing in the world for savages as well as children 
 to-day to misapply their categories of the animate and 
 inanimate, and to suppose things to be alive that to their 
 imperfect observation and knowledge do not appear to act 
 with mechanical uniformity. This is not so much due to a 
 confusion of the categories in the sense that the difference 
 between the conceptions of animate and inanimate is unclear, 
 as to lack of experience in bringing objects under these two 
 classes. 
 
 VI Religion and Magic 
 
 The distinction between religion and magic, and their 
 relation to each other is fundamentally important. We have 
 noticed various religious ceremonies which contain magical 
 elements. The initiation and intichiuma ceremonies of Central 
 Australia are magical in that they are supposed to effect 
 physiological changes in the boys, to promote the growth of 
 plants and animals, and to cause rain to fall. .The Toda dairy 
 man's prayers, addressed to no one, are clearly .magical spells 
 whose efficacy is due to their repetition. It appears to be 
 impossible to formulate a logical definition of magic that will 
 at all give a clear conception of what it means to the savage, 
 because he does not think in logical terms so far as he employs 
 magic. An utterly illogical conception cannot be defined 
 logically. It is better therefore simply to describe different 
 types of magic. 
 
 Many instances of magic involve the notion that what is 
 done to an object that has come into some close personal contact 
 with a person, or has been a portion of his body, will affect 
 the person himself. If the sorcerer can get hold of anyone's 
 nail parings or hair clippings he can work injury upon the 
 person himself. If a weapon that has made a wound be heated, 
 the wound will remain inflamed ; if the weapon is kept clean, 
 bandaged and poulticed, the wound will rapidly heal without 
 festering. This is called "sympathetic" or "contagious" magic. 
 Another type is "imitative" magic, in which there is in some way 
 an imitation of the effect sought. For instance, many rain 
 making ceremonies all over the world imitate the dropping of 
 water to the ground by pantomime or picture. Many of the 
 Australian intichiuma ceremonies are instances of imitative 
 
52 
 
 magic. Men of the kangaroo totem dress themselves up to 
 look like kangaroos, and step like them during the ceremony 
 of their totem; the men of the frog totem imitate frogs in 
 their ceremony ; and so on. It is a common belief in the savage 
 world that an enemy can be destroyed by making a wax figure 
 of him and melting it, or sticking pins into it. Many instances 
 of magic cannot be brought under either of these two heads, 
 and can only be said vaguely to involve the notion that powers 
 and influences exist in things and may be made to pass over 
 into other things. Thus sins may be loaded on a scape goat, 
 and driven away with the latter into the wilderness ; a tooth- 
 ache can be nailed into a tree ; by eating a tiger's heart a man 
 may become brave; a barren fruit tree must be male, and can 
 be made female and productive by putting a woman's petticoat 
 upon it, 10. 
 
 All cases of magic involve the notion of mana, or some sort 
 of impersonal power that may be manipulated by correct 
 procedure. The psychological explanation of the origin of 
 magic is, the author thinks, three- fold, 11. First, it begins with 
 natural and spontaneous expressions of emotion. A man is 
 angry at his distant enemy and hacks at trees or anything 
 that may stand in his way, just as he would hack at the man 
 himself if he could get at him. This is a very human state of 
 emotion which all of us have experienced at times. The women 
 of the Hindu Kush, when the men are on a raid, get together 
 and dance day and night. This may well have begun as a 
 natural expression of emotion. These women were excited, 
 could not work in the fields as usual, and came together, and 
 whiled away the time by dancing. Secondly, by association of 
 ideas, a person frequently or habitually performs the action 
 which expresses his emotion when aroused ; this seems almost 
 a necessary part of the action. The Hindu Kush women hear 
 the men planning another raid. They think to themselves 
 "We must get together and dance." A raid has become 
 habitually associated in their minds with a dance. Thirdly, the 
 logical fallacy of post hoc, ergo hoc completes the evolution 
 of the magical powers. The women danced while the men went 
 on a raid, and the men were successful. Therefore it is 
 concluded that the men were successful because the women 
 danced. Accordingly it becomes an established custom that the 
 women must dance to ensure the success of raids. An Esquimo 
 whose tribe had been unsuccessful in hunting and were on the 
 
MAGIC 53 
 
 verge of starvation started out on a hunt, gnawing at the 
 ham bone of a dog. He was immediately successful in captur- 
 ing a seal. Thereafter he always took along a hambone of a 
 dog when he went hunting, 12. Such associations of ideas and 
 casual inference, obviously fallacious as they are, none the less 
 are very human, and the superstitions common among civilized 
 people today have originated in much this way. The only 
 reason why all of us are not such firm believers in magic as 
 savages is on account of the influence of logic, philosophy, 
 and, above all, of the natural sciences. These insist on excep- 
 tions as carefully as instances that agree with a notion, and 
 critically examine all beliefs and reject those that are grounded 
 merely upon custom, habit, and emotional prejudices. Magic 
 persists longer in religion than in other fields of organized 
 human activity just because man is more reluctant to apply 
 critical reasoning to religion, feeling that it is something sacred 
 and- taboo to careful investigation and inquiry. 
 
 One reason why magic has had so strong a hold is because 
 it often has really been effective. A man who believes that he 
 will be brave if he eats a tiger's heart doubtless will become 
 braver after having done so. Australian men who believe that 
 an enemy has stolen their kidney fat by magical means while 
 they were asleep have actually died of fright. The Hindu 
 Kush men probably have felt increased confidence in themselves 
 because they knew their women were endeavoring to assist them 
 by dancing. Trials by ordeals probably more often revealed 
 the guilty and cleared the innocent than they failed to do so. 
 The man with a guilty conscience would be more likely to choke 
 when eating bread, and the innocent man would be more likely 
 to be able to swallow it without choking if both believed in the 
 efficacy of such a test of guilt. A knight fighting in the 
 tournament to vindicate his innocence would more likely be 
 successful if he believed himself to be innocent. Of course these 
 are all cases where the power of mental suggestion is sufficient 
 to help bring about the desired effect ; but uncivilized men 
 know nothing of the psychology of suggestion, they perceive 
 that magical acts are sometimes successful and so their confi- 
 dence in magic is strengthened. 
 
 The relation of magic to religion for purposes of definition, 
 therefore, is simply this. If magic is employed in the conser- 
 vation of any socially recognized value, whether of concern to 
 the clan as a whole, to a family, or to an individual, it is 
 
54 DEFINITION OF RELIGION 
 
 religious. Otherwise it is non-religious. Magic is clearly 
 religious when used in ceremonies for the purpose of ensuring 
 abundant crops, increase of cattle, or victory in war. Black 
 magic, used to work evil on a private enemy in a manner 
 condemned by public opinion, is not religious. 
 
 It has sometimes been maintained that magic preceded 
 religion, and that the latter has either developed from 
 it or has supplanted it. Professor Frazer's Golden Bough, for 
 instance, maintains that man first sought to control super- 
 natural powers by magic, and when he found he could not do 
 this successfully, became overawed at them, and sought to 
 propitiate them through religion. Of course if religion were 
 so defined as to make belief in and worship of supernatural 
 spirits and gods a necessary criterion of it, such primitives 
 as the Arunta would not be religious at all, while they would 
 be magical, and we should have to suppose that magic did 
 precede religion. The issue here is not one of historical 
 sequence of facts so much as of definition of terms. If the 
 definition set forth in this chapter be accepted, then it can be 
 said that all races of mankind of whom we have knowledge have 
 had religions, but that the religions of the lowest races consist 
 chiefly of magic, while later on religions use magic less and 
 animism more, and seek more personal and reverential attitudes 
 toward the agency used to conserve values. This will be clearer 
 in the next chapter where the evolution of spiritual sacraments 
 and prayer from magical sacrifices and spells will be indicated, 
 
 VII Religion and Morality^ 
 
 The relation of religion to morality follows from the 
 definition of religion. Since all values which any religion seeks 
 to conserve are socially recognized values, it may be said that 
 religion always has a moral purpose. But a primitive tribe 
 will not seek to conserve all its socially recognized values 
 through religion. The values which are important, but which 
 they cannot secure adequately by their own efforts are most 
 likely to become for them objects of religious endeavor. Thus 
 food, and protection from, and victory over enemies are 
 primitive religious values when food is scarce and enemies 
 numerous and dangerous. Among savages many moral matters 
 may have nothing to do with religion. Adultery and theft may 
 be morally condemned by the tribe without any one thinking 
 of them as violations of religious obligations in any way. Gods 
 
MORALITY 55 
 
 may even command acts which are contrary to human morality, 
 and are performed only out of fear of their wrath. The 
 sacrifice of human infants by their parents to Moloch, and 
 the sacrifice of their chastity by decent women to avoid the 
 wrath of Isthar, the primitive Semitic mother goddess, are 
 Hebrew and Babylonian instances, 13. 
 
 However, as religions evolve, the tendency is for moral values 
 to become objects of religious concern, and for every advance 
 in moral insight and appreciation sooner or later to influence 
 the religious activities of a developing people. One of the 
 great points of superiority of the ancient Hebrew religion was 
 that the prophets were able to ascribe to Yahweh, their God, 
 every new moral attribute as soon as they had conceived it, 
 so that He always stood for all that in their minds was good 
 and righteous. Their religion thus was the most important 
 agency in furthering and conserving Hebrew moral progress. 
 Christianity has likewise been a progressive religion, and new 
 moral values have with very creditable rapidity become matters 
 of religious concern. Religion is always extremely conserva- 
 tive, and while this often makes reformers impatient, it is best 
 on the whole that man has one great institution which clings 
 firmly to the values that have come down from the past and 
 which seeks to assure their preservation. 
 
 To sum up the relation of morality to religion we may say, 
 that all religious values are moral in the sense that they are 
 socially recognized ; but that not all moral values are religious 
 values. Not even all the values that are morally most important, 
 either from our own standpoint or from that of the worship- 
 pers of the religion under consideration, are religious values. 
 However, it must be added that as civilizations and religions 
 develop, the values which religion endeavors to conserve 
 increasingly tend to coincide with the highest moral values 
 that are known at the time; and that this has been conspicu- 
 ously true in the history of Christianity and Judaism. 
 
 VIII Religion and Art. Play 
 
 The differences between religion and art are so great that 
 confusion is not likely to occur. Religious endeavor in sacrifice 
 and prayer is never exclusively an end in itself; it is for the 
 sake of future spiritual or material benefits. The aesthetic 
 attitude, on the other hand, is always an end in itself. Interest 
 in beauty, whether of nature or of art, is always for its own 
 
56 DEFINITION OF RELIGION 
 
 sake ; never, so far as it is really and truly artistic or aesthetic, 
 for an ulterior purpose. Such interest is immediate; religious 
 interest is mediate, 14. Religion may make use of art in its 
 worship, but it is only as a means to an end, and it is notorious 
 how works of art that are mediocre from an aesthetic stand- 
 point are often preferred by the religiously devout to the 
 masterpieces in sculpture, painting, and music. Moreover, 
 ages of comparative religious shallowness like the Italian 
 renaissance have often produced the finest religious art ; while, 
 as in the case of the Puritans, movements of deep religious 
 earnestness have sometimes rejected the services of art almost 
 altogether. Of course, both primitive and civilized arts have 
 largely developed in connection with religious activities, but 
 art and religion always present clearly distinguishable 
 attitudes. 
 
 Professor A. C. Watson objects to this sharp differentiation 
 between religion and art, 15. For him they are so inextricably 
 interwoven that they cannot be distinguished, except by the 
 fact that artistic expression appears at the culmination of a 
 period of religious development as an appreciation in beautiful 
 forms of its achievement. He also affirms that a religious 
 mood is often an end in itself, rather than a means to further 
 ends, mentioning mystical types of devotion, and the Christian 
 mood of "communion with God" as instances, comparing them 
 in this respect with conjugal felicity and the intercourse of 
 ideal friendship. On the contrary, it can be affirmed that the 
 great mystics have not regarded rapture and divine communion 
 as ends in themselves, to be cultivated for the sake of the 
 enjoyment that they afford. To cultivate ecstacy for its own 
 sake is "spiritual drunkenness" in the words of St. Teresa. 
 Mystical states, according to the best authorities, are to be 
 regarded as means of spiritual enrichment and increased 
 effectiveness in the service of God and men. Conjugal felicity 
 and friendship, too, would be on a lower plane than they 
 normally are, if they were treated as ends in themselves and 
 cultivated for the thrills that they afford, and not as means 
 of mutual helpfulness and the realization of ulterior ends. 
 Religion is a larger thing in human experience than art just 
 because it is not an end in itself, but always looks beyond the 
 present moment, and so is capable of becoming a means to the 
 conservation of the highest values known to man in his personal 
 life and his social relationships. 
 
ART AND PLAY 57 
 
 Professor Seashore has called attention to the relationship 
 between religion and expressions of the play impulse, 16. It must 
 be admitted that religious ceremonies both among savages and 
 civilized nations, are often joyous festivals in which sociability 
 is enhanced. It follows that many persons attend them impelled 
 by the desire to have a good time, as well as by impulses of 
 curiosity and gregariousness. In persons whose attendance 
 is at first due to these impulses, a genuine religious sentiment 
 may ultimately develop. Religious workers in different ages 
 have realized this and have made religious rites appeal to a 
 variety of interests. They have often been willing that a holy 
 day should in some measure be a holiday. None the less, the 
 psychology of religion and play are fundamentally different. 
 Religion is serious ; it finds its end in the conservation of values 
 that are external to the religious act itself. Play, on the other 
 hand, like aesthetic enjoyment, is absorbed in itself, and looks 
 to no future or external ends. The interest in play is imme- 
 diate; the interest in religion, as in all other serious work, is 
 mediate. Something further will be said upon this point in 
 
 Chapter XIV, 17. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 *JAMES BISSETT PRATT, The Religious Consciousness, Chap. I. 
 
 *JAMES H. LETTBA, A Psychological Study of Religion, Chaps. I-V. 
 
 GEORGE A. COE, Psychology of Religion (see Index under religion, animism, 
 magic). 
 
 *L. T. HOBHOUSE, Morals in Evolution, Part II, Chaps. I, II. 
 
 *EDWARD S. AMES, Psychology of Religious Experience, Chaps. III-V, 
 XV, XIX. 
 
 IRVING KING, Development of Religion. 
 
 A. C. WATSON, "Logic of Religion," American Journal of Theology, Vol. 
 XX, pp. 81-101; 244-265. 
 
 J. G. FRAZER, The Oolden Bough. 
 
 ANDREW LANG, Magic and Religion. 
 
 E. B. TYLOR, Primitive Culture. 
 
 FREDERICK SCIILEITER, Religion and Culture. 
 R. R. MARETT, The Threshold of Religion. 
 
 WILHELM WUNDT, Volkerpsychologie, Vol. II, pt. Ill, pp. 646-683. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE EVOLUTION OF DEITIES 
 
 PRAYER 
 
 I The Rise of Ceremonials 
 
 WE have seen that savages engage in ceremonials of various 
 kinds in the endeavor to conserve socially recognized values 
 in a manner that may be called religious, in terms of the 
 definition set forth in the preceding chapter. The Australian 
 natives engage in religious ceremonials to transform their boys 
 into men, to increase their food supply, and to bring rain. The 
 Todas engage in religious ceremonials to promote the welfare 
 of the cows, to make it safe to partake of the milk of a cow 
 after a calf has been born, and to increase the supply of grass, 
 fruit and honey. The state religious ceremonials of the 
 Baganda include a wider variety of purposes, counsel in 
 matters of state, victory in war, sentences upon criminals, the 
 assurance of posterity to the king, deliverance from famine, 
 earthquake, and pestilence, and other matters of national 
 concern; while families and individuals privately seek through 
 gods, fetiches, spirits, ancestral ghosts, and amulets, the 
 conservation of values dear to them. Almost every concrete 
 material value thinkable has been sought through religious 
 means somewhere in the savage world. In general, the values 
 sought through religious means are those that man does not 
 know how to secure adequately for himself, through his 
 ordinary efforts. Anything that involves the unknown, the 
 uncanny, the mysterious is often thought to contain mana; and 
 so, if important enough, desire for it will evoke the development 
 of ceremonials. The striking events of life, birth, the arrival 
 at puberty, marriage, and death, are matters of vital concern 
 which involve the unknown and mysterious. So ceremonials 
 often develop about them. 
 
 The eating of food often seems to the savage to involve the 
 sacred and mysterious. Food may contain mana that will do 
 him good or evil. Australian aborigines, as we have seen, never 
 eat the food of their totem except in solemn ceremonials when 
 
 58 
 
RISE OF CEREMONIALS 59 
 
 / 
 
 the mysterious power thus set into operation is supposed to 
 produce a beneficent effect. Eaten by a man of the totem at 
 other times this power would be uncontrolled and would work 
 disaster. Various kinds of food in Australia and elsewhere are 
 taboo to women and children, because if eaten by them the 
 mysterious power in the food would work evil. The flesh of 
 fierce animals or warlike enemies when eaten ceremonially is 
 often believed to reinforce one's own mana, and make one 
 strong and brave. Among the primitive Semites all food seems 
 to have been thought to contain mana, or its equivalent, and 
 so every family meal became a religious ceremony. The eating 
 of food, therefore, often has had deep religious significance. 
 "It is a means of relieving hunger and of gaining power; it 
 averts danger from mysterious forces, by removing taboos; it 
 is the means of safe intercourse with strangers, with the dead, 
 with the opposite sex ; it is the means of returning safely to 
 one's people and to one's normal functions after a journey, a 
 battle, a period of mourning, or other unusual experience," 1. 
 
 Water also often is thought to contain mysterious power. 
 The primitive inhabitants of the Arabian desert often feel 
 sorely the lack of abundant water, and at times they see sudden 
 showers transform dry plains into green fields. Baptism, and 
 other forms of ablution important in many religions of Semitic 
 origin, arose in the first place from the notion that the action 
 of water in a ceremonial has magical effect, that through the 
 agency of water socially recognized values may be conserved. 
 Blood, above all, is mysterious from the primitive point of 
 view, and hence is thought to be charged with mana. It is so 
 vitally connected with life that it must contain great potency. 
 Men in Africa may become "blood brothers" by drinking a 
 little of each other's blood, or mingling blood by opening their 
 veins. Henceforth they are mystically united, and bound by 
 powerful ties to mutual support and protection. Violations 
 of tribal custom and- other sins are often regarded as 
 material, and when religion first becomes ethical, the mysterious 
 evil that sins would otherwise work upon the community may 
 be averted by the slaughter of men and animals. "Without 
 the shedding of blood there is no remission of sins." Fire, 
 likewise, is a great purifying agent and removes evil mana and 
 is positively effective in producing beneficent mana. 
 II The Evolution of Deities 
 
 The purpose in primitive religions of any ceremonial is to 
 
60 EVOLUTION OF DEITIES 
 
 conserve socially recognized values through the employment 
 of mana. The eating of food, the shedding of blood, the use 
 of water, fire, smoke and incense, are all means by which 
 powerful mana may be evoked. If the source of this mana is 
 distinguished, and is conceived as personal in character, it is 
 thought of either as a spirit, ghost, or god. 
 
 In such ceremonials as those of the natives of central 
 Australia the source of mana is not objectified in any way and 
 made external to the ceremonial itself. Nor is this done but 
 very imperfectly in the case of the Toda dairy ritual, though 
 there it might perhaps be said that the various objects 
 mentioned in the Jcwarzam are all sources of mana. But in 
 the case of the Baganda the sources of mana are external to 
 the ceremonials and take the various forms of gods, fetiches, 
 amulets, spirits, and ghosts. And in most savage religions 
 the sources of mana are thus externalized, and religious 
 ceremonials consciously endeavor to utilize mana drawn from 
 these sources. 
 
 We have to consider, first, how the sources become objec- 
 tified and rendered external to the ceremonials ; and secondly, 
 how they become personified as spirits, ghosts, and gods. 
 These two questions can best be considered together. 
 
 The Australian, as we have seen, believes that in some way 
 he and the plants and animals of his totem are one. He has 
 not analyzed the matter further. Much the same condition 
 appears elsewhere in the savage world. The Bororo of 
 Brazil say that they are araras a species of parrot. Now 
 nothing seems more obvious to us than that a man cannot be 
 a parrot, and of course they know that in many senses they 
 are not parrots. But their logic has not yet developed to a 
 point where they can discriminate, and say in what respects 
 they are and in what respects- they are not parrots, 2. In this 
 stage totemic ceremonies may go on- quite unreflectively, and 
 the way. that mana is evoked by the ceremony may raise no 
 problem. Such- a problem must forte itself ultimately, though, 
 upon any race if it. develops- in intelligence. Later on, the totem 
 may be personified 1 , it may be a spirit or god that abides, some- 
 how in the totemic plants and animals. The ceremony now is 
 thought to effect a mystic union or participation between the 
 men and the god, and- so the mana of the god becomes available. 
 When this last point io reached, the eating of the tptemic plant 
 or animal acquires r.?v7 significance. If we say in this case, "the 
 
DEITIES 61 
 
 god is eaten," as some writers do, it is necessary to make clear 
 the purport of this rather startling statement. The god is 
 believed somehow to be present in the sacred food of the totem 
 and to eat the food is to become more closely unified with the 
 god and to receive mana from him. The god, of course, con- 
 tinues to exist outside of the food that is eaten, and with 
 undiminished power. 
 
 If gods may sometimes have developed by externalizing and 
 objectivizing some feature of the ceremonial, like the totemic 
 animal or plant, at other times the source apparently has been 
 found in . something previously not connected with the 
 ceremonies in which they have been engaged. The Central 
 Australian aborigines, as we have seen, although they believe 
 in animism, do not make use of ft in their religion. Where, 
 however, man believes that he is surrounded by all sorts of 
 powerful spirits and ghosts, it seems inevitable that he will 
 ultimately deem it wise to cultivate friendly relations with 
 them. Several details mentioned by Spencer and- Gillen cause 
 one to wonder if this step is not imminent. If an Arunta man 
 and his wife both wish for a child, the man will tie his hair 
 girdle about a certain stone (through which spirits are 
 supposed to pass when they wish to become incarnated in 
 women and become born again into the tribe) at the same time 
 begging the spirits to look upon his wife with favor, 3. This is 
 almost a prayer. Furthermore, the Arunta medicine men have 
 the power of communicating with certain spirits (Iruntarinia) 
 from whom they receive information regarding totemic 
 ceremonies, 4. As Professor Pratt remarks, "Granted that out 
 of the original feeling for the impersonal mana, the belief in 
 personal powers arose, direct appeal to them was surely the 
 most natural thing in the world," 5. 
 
 Ancestral worship seems to have developed very naturally 
 where it prevails. Parents love their children while alive, and 
 grant their requests when they can. What more natural than 
 for the children to continue to look to their parents for aid 
 and sympathy after they are dead ! The worship of ancestral 
 ghosts readily develops into a regular domestic ceremonial, 
 Feme food being set aside for them at every meal, which thus 
 becomes a social gathering for the whole family, including its 
 dead as well as its living members. As generations pass, some 
 noteworthy ancestor of numerous families may become a tribal 
 god, and be worshipped not only by his actual descendants, but 
 
62 EVOLUTION. OF DEITIES 
 
 also by those whose relationship to him is purely legendary. 
 If, in the evolution of the human race, the family has existed 
 as a coherent social organization longer than the tribe, as 
 Professor Westermarck's History of Human Marriage has at 
 least shown to be probable, tribal deities must in numerous cases 
 have developed in some such manner. 
 
 In some parts of the world a tribal leader or hero, or a 
 medicine man powerful in mana, may be worshipped after his 
 death by those who hope that he will assist them with his 
 mana. The incident of Ganindo, mentioned in Chapter III, 
 is an illustration. The deceased kings of the Baganda is 
 another. The deceased Roman emperors had temples, and 
 became divinities reverenced by the entire civilized world. Sir 
 James Brooke was believed by the Dyaks of Sarawack, whom 
 he governed, to be endued with magical virtue, and tribes 
 brougjjt to him the seed which they intended to sow that he 
 might endow it with fertility, and they scattered the water 
 in which he bathed on their fields to ensure abundant crops. 
 Will he, too, become a god? 6. 
 
 Sometimes animals and often even inanimate objects have 
 become sources of mysterious power with whicH religious 
 ceremonials are concerned. Mukasa's chief wife, Nalwanga, 
 it will be remembered, was originally a pythoness, 7. Crocodiles 
 are sacred in India, and certain cows were regarded as divine 
 in ancient Egypt. Perhaps such instances are modifications 
 of totemism, though it is not certain that this is necessarily 
 the case. Animals that are either especially dangerous or 
 beneficent may be regarded with veneration, and mysterious 
 power may be attributed to them. Inanimate objects that are 
 conspicuous and inspire awe, like a waterfall or a cataract, 
 a formidable looking mountain or even a peculiar looking rock, 
 may be regarded as alive, and endowed with dreadful powers. 
 When man's thought becomes more abstract he may begin to 
 generalize, and think of the Earth, as the universal Mother, 
 who gives birth to all the plants directly, and is the ancestress 
 of animals and men. Where there is a mother there must also 
 be a father, and the universal Father may be identified with 
 the blue Sky which is seen to extend over the entire earth, or 
 with the Sun whose warmth and light seems everywhere to 
 quicken and vivify nature. 
 
 Once the source of mana in primitive religions is thought of 
 as distinct from the ceremonial, it is on its way to development 
 
DEITIES 68 
 
 into a god. Fetiches, charms and amuiets are impersonal, or 
 only imperfectly personified, to be sure, but they are usually 
 associated in some way with a god or a spirit or ghost and 
 the mana which they contain comes from this personal agency. 
 To be sure, this may become obscured, and then these objects 
 are almost mechanical in their operations, like the amulets of 
 the Baganda, and efficacious for only a single purpose. If a 
 fetich becomes an independent object of ceremonial attention 
 it is likely to be treated in some respects like a god or ghost, 
 offerings being made to it, and some of the Baganda fetiches 
 seem on the way to become independent gods. A fetich with 
 a priest, temple, and medium is virtually a god. Ghosts were 
 once personal beings, and so they are already anthropomorphic, 
 and to become gods they need only become magnified and 
 exalted in the minds of their worshippers. The difference 
 between a ghost and a god is a matter of degree. The god is 
 more powerful, more sublime, and his worship has become 
 generally recognized, and is not confined to a family or a few 
 scattered admirers. He has, as a rule, his established modes 
 of worship, a definite form of ceremonial, a temple and a 
 priest. A ghost simply needs to become an institutionalized 
 source of mana, and he is a god. 
 
 The evolution of gods from sources of mana that never were 
 human beings is different in some details. Animals and inanimate 
 objects are not anthropomorphic. They lack personal qualities 
 and attributes. Gods with such an origin sometimes seem 
 vague in their qualities, not much more than huge and 
 powerful monsters. Such, for instance, are the Baganda gods 
 of earthquake and plague. The earliest gods of the Aryan 
 conquerors of India,~-rthe Rain, the Wind, the Sun, and other 
 natural objects, lacked personal qualities and attributes. 
 Presently, however, the latter were acquired. The Sun as god 
 is no longer just the red ball up in the sky, but a splendid 
 being in human form, yet surpassing man in every way, who 
 drives the physical sun, now a fiery chariot, across the heavens. 
 Myths of various sorts develop about the personal god, and 
 he is celebrated in hymns and epic poems, and often artists 
 portray him in marble or upon temple wall as a sublime and 
 splendidly heroic figure. The development of gods in other 
 Aryan peoples, Greeks, Romans, and Teutons, was similar. 
 
 The impulse to give gods personal forms and attributes is 
 the consequence of the desire to conserve desirable human 
 
64. 
 
 mental and moral qualities. It is possible to think of rain or 
 sunshine as conserved by transcendent material objects. But 
 wisdom, knowledge of the future, bravery, love, pity, and like 
 qualities could only be thought to be conserved and rendered 
 available by gods who possessed these qualities themselves. As 
 man became self-conscious, and knew himself to be an individual 
 with a moral nature, he desired to acquire various moral traits. 
 In consequence, his gods tended to become exalted human 
 beings his ideals of what he would like to be himself. Later 
 on, to be sure, as the many gods fused into one, religion took 
 different directions, and in some cases the one God or world 
 order finally ceased to be anthropomorphic, or even personal, 
 in many respects. However, such final developments only came 
 after eras in which there were gods with numerous personal and 
 anthropomorphic traits, 8. 
 
 Ill The Evolution of Sacrifice 
 
 When the source of the agency through which man seeks 
 to conserve his socially recognized values had been distinguished 
 from the agency and become a ghost, spirit, or god, the chief 
 religious ceremonial developed into a Sacrifice. In any sacrifice, 
 as the term will be employed in this volume, man seeks through 
 some sort of act or ceremonial to come into relations with a 
 supernatural being of at least quasi-personal characteristics 
 (a ghost, a spirit, a god, or the one universal God), in order 
 to secure the conservation of a socially recognized value. 
 
 Various attitudes may be assumed in a ceremonial toward 
 this supernatural being. (1) The endeavor may be to control 
 the being, to force him to act at the worshipper's behest, 
 possibly by reason of a magical spell. "In ancient Egypt, for 
 example, the magicians claimed the power of compelling even 
 the highest gods to do their bidding, and actually threatening 
 them with destruction in case of disobedience. Similarly in 
 India at the present time the great Hindoo trinity of Brahma, 
 Vishnu, and Shiva is subject to the sorcerers, who by means of 
 their spells, exercise such an ascendancy over the mightiest 
 deities that these are bound submissively to execute on earth 
 below, or in heaven above, whatever commands the magicians 
 may please to issue," 9. French peasants used to believe that 
 their priests could control winds, storms and rain, and by a 
 special "mass of the Holy Ghost" could compel God to grant 
 whatever was asked of Him, no matter how rash or importunate 
 
SACRIFICE 65 
 
 might be the petition, 10. Such confusion between magic and 
 religion in which the functions of priest and sorcerer are not 
 clearly distinguished, represents a very early stage, logically, 
 in the evolution of sacrifice. It may even be questioned, whether 
 this stage is really sacrifice at all, in any proper sense. 
 
 (2) Another ambiguous case is that in which the ceremonial 
 serves to strengthen the god, and to enable him to do his 
 beneficent work. In India it was once thought that the 
 sacrifices strengthened the Sun, who without their aid would 
 not be able to rise in the morning, and to proceed in his course 
 across the sky. Here also the magical element predominates. 
 
 (3) We have unquestionable instances of sacrifice when the 
 attitude is one of bargaining. The sacrifice is pleasing to the 
 gods. They enjoy the food and wine, the blood and incense, 
 and will give man what he desires in return. This is more 
 common than either of the two types previously mentioned. 
 As Miss Harrison points out, the formula of Greek religion 
 as orthodoxly conceived in the fifth century, B. C., was do ut 
 des. "It is, as Socrates says (in the Euthyphron), a 'business 
 transaction' and one which, because god is greater than man, 
 man on the whole gets the best of it. ... If man does his 
 part in the friendly transaction, the gods will do theirs," 11. 
 This attitude is common in the Old Testament. Noah's 
 offering of the sacrifice which pleased Yahweh and led him to 
 promise, for man's sake to send no more floods, and the various 
 sacrifices of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, will serve as 
 illustrations. 
 
 (4) Another conception of sacrifice chiefly implies partici- 
 pation or communion with a deity. There may be an attempt 
 to effect some sort of intercourse between a man and a god 
 so that the man may be reinforced and strengthened by divine 
 mana. This form of sacrifice may readily develop out of 
 totemism, where there is some sort of identity between men 
 and their totem that needs to be strengthened. It can also 
 develop from ancestral worship, for a child naturally feels 
 reinforced and sustained when he feels that a beloved parent 
 is supporting him. This form of sacrifice is very crude and 
 barbarous in its lowest forms, and involves slaughter and 
 burning of animals and even of human beings. But immanent 
 within it are noble possibilities, and from it have developed 
 some of the most spiritual attitudes toward God in the higher 
 religions. 
 
66 
 
 (5) Finally, the attitude in sacrifice may be a more serious 
 and systematic effort at propitiation. This attitude makes 
 its first appearance on a savage level. The god is angry and 
 seeks blood. He is rampant, perhaps merely out of lustful 
 desire for life as in some of the Baganda slaughterings 
 mentioned in Chapter IV. On a higher level, though still 
 barbaric, a god may be angry because tribal law or custom 
 has been violated, and it is necessary to propitiate him by 
 human or animal sacrifices. This often involves magical 
 notions. The sins and curses that have afflicted the nation 
 may be magically transferred to the sacrificial victims and 
 be consumed with them in the fire, or loaded upon a scapegoat 
 and driven into the wilderness. 
 
 This conception of propitiation is capable of high spiritual 
 development among civilized nations. In the case of Judaism 
 it has led to lofty and inspiring conceptions of atonement and 
 expiation for sin by the sufferings of the nation. In Chris- 
 tianity has developed the sublime idea that God Himself in 
 the person of the Saviour, through his death, made expiation 
 through sacrifice for the sins of mankind. But, on the whole, 
 many and perhaps the majority of thoughtful persons to-day 
 both in Jewish and Christian faiths find the conception of 
 blood atonement repulsive, even in its most refined and 
 spiritualized forms. They prefer to think of sacrifice, not 
 as a mode of satisfying Divine justice, but as a means whereby 
 close personal communion between God and man is established, 
 so that man can identify himself with God in some way and 
 be reinforced by the Divine presence in his soul. This, of 
 course, is along the line of the fourth conception of sacrifice 
 mentioned. A Christian holding this view would say that the 
 entire life, teaching, and death of Jesus was a sacrifice that 
 established communion between God and man. This communion 
 is experienced by each individual in his own life both in his 
 private worship and also in his participation in the public 
 worship of the Church. 
 
 IV The Evolution of Prayer 
 
 Prayer has had an evolution similar to that of sacrifice. 
 Primitive ceremonies, like those of the natives of Central 
 Australia, do not seem to involve prayer at all. Where words 
 are repeated in a ceremonial act for the conservation of 
 socially recognized values we may consider them to constitute 
 
PRAYER 67 
 
 a prayer. Viewed in this way, we have called prayers the for- 
 mulae said by the Toda dairymen priests, although they 
 are not addressed to supernatural beings. Prayer at this 
 level is a magical spell. Certain North American Indian rain 
 societies perform a ceremony or sacrifice to bring rain. Upon 
 an altar they place emblems or pictures representing clouds 
 with vertical drops for rain. By the side of these are ears of 
 Indian corn which are sprinkled with water. All this, of 
 course, is imitative magic, 12. During the course of the cere- 
 mony, however, prayers are addressed to the ghosts that control 
 the supply of rain. The report of this is not detailed; the 
 prayers may be spells thought to compel the ghosts to send rain, 
 or they may be entreaties. Formulae of riddance are usually 
 imperious commands or spells rather than petitional prayers, 
 like the Chinese "Let the devil of poverty depart" or the 
 ancient Greek "Go out, hunger," and "To the door, you 
 ghosts." When the buffalo clan of the Sioux decorate them- 
 selves with totemic emblems before going on the war-path, and 
 say, "My little grandfather (the buffalo totem) is always 
 dangerous when he makes an attempt," we clearly have 
 suggestive assurances that increase their confidence, and so 
 are of the nature of a spell, while as Professor Farnell opines, 
 "the coaxing and endearing phrase of kinship seems to imply 
 a half-entreaty as well," 13. 
 
 In the further evolution of prayer all thought either of 
 coercing supernatural beings by spells or assisting them by 
 magical ceremonies, came to an end. Man learned to realize 
 that spirits and gods must be greater and mightier than he, 
 and that they do not need his aid and cannot be coerced by 
 him. Prayers now become either petitions requesting favors 
 for man which the god on account of his superior power is able 
 to grant if he is so disposed, or else they have for their aim 
 communion with the divinity, in which case man seeks a larger, 
 fuller life by identifying himself somehow with the divine. 
 Prayers of praise, and all prayers of an aesthetic or mystical 
 character are manifestations of the desire for divine 
 communion. Both of these forms of prayer begin to appear 
 comparatively early in religious evolution. As soon as a 
 supernatural being in a religious ceremonial is addressed in 
 words that are not commands but are requests, the petitional 
 type is beginning to emerge. Dr. Charles A. Eastman 
 (Ohiyesa) describes how the Sioux boy solemnly and with due 
 
68 EVOLUTION OF DEITIES 
 
 ceremonial retires in solitude to the mountains in expectation 
 of some vision of the "great mystery" (manitou). This act 
 clearly points in the direction of a prayer of communion, 
 though the "Great Mystery" does not seem to be clearly 
 personified and not more than half become a God, 14?. The 
 petitional prayer is found in many of the Hebrew Psalms, while 
 others contain prayers of communion. 
 
 In general, as religions advance and as they become more 
 ethical and more deeply thoughtful in tone, the magical sides 
 of prayer and sacrifice either become sloughed off or trans- 
 muted into more spiritual attitudes. To seek courage through 
 communion with a god by drinking wine as in the Dionysiac 
 worship of Greece, or by drinking soma juice as in an early 
 stage of the evolution of religion in India, is at least higher 
 than eating the hearts of tigers and dead human enemies for 
 the purpose. To seek divine reinforcement through the 
 enhancement afforded by music, as in the Orphic mysteries of 
 Greece, is higher still. And, finally, to effect communion 
 through a purely mental act of meditation or through 
 imaginative address to the Deity, such as has characterized 
 Judaism and Christianity at their best, is highest of all. But 
 the types of prayer as they exist to-day, will be discussed and 
 classified in Chapter XVI. Here it is only necessary to note 
 that prayer, like sacrifice, begins to develop as soon as the 
 source of supernatural power implied in the religious ceremonial 
 becomes differentiated and objectified, and so to be regarded 
 as external to the ceremonial itself. Sacrifice evolves more 
 rapidly at first; less reflective minds are more concerned with 
 acts than with thoughts. But prayer increases in prominence 
 as men become more reflective and spiritually minded. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 *J. H. LEUBA, A Psychological Study of Religion, Chapters IV-VI. 
 
 *L. R. FARNELL, "The Evolution of Prayer" in The Evolution of Religion. 
 
 *E. S. AMES, Psychology of Religious Experience, Chapters VII-IX. 
 
 IRVING KING, Development of Religion, Chapter IX. 
 
 R. R. MARETT, Threshold of Religion. 
 
 J. B. PRATT, The Religious Consciousness, Chapters XII-XVI. 
 
 WILHELM WTJNDT, Elements of Folk Psychology. Volkerpsychologie. 
 
 E. DTTRKHEIM, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life. 
 
 J. G. FRAZER, The Golden Bough, Chapters I, II. 
 
 L. T. HOBHOUSE, Morals in Evolution, Part II, Chapter I. 
 
 WILLIAM ROBERTSON SMITH, The Religion of the Semites. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 BRAHMANISM 
 I Introductory 
 
 IN this, and the chapters immediately following, we shall 
 observe ways in which ethical religions (or religions of salva- 
 tion and redemption) have developed from nature religions. 
 We shall seek to find out what values came to be recognized 
 in India, Greece, and Israel, and through what agency their 
 conservation was sought. We shall find that in each country 
 there came to be (1) increased discernment in the appreciation 
 of ethical values, and (2) a remarkable advance in conceptions 
 of the conserving agency. There were some differences in the 
 specific values recognized in each land, but on many points 
 there was substantial agreement. Right and wrong really 
 involve, and are usually recognized to involve, much the same 
 conduct and ideals in all lands upon about the same level of 
 culture. But the differences in the agencies through which 
 efforts were made to secure the conservation of these values 
 became very great. To a certain extent, however, the diverse 
 religious experience of India, Greece, and Israel can be 
 said to teach the same lessons. 
 
 II The Vedic Period 
 
 During a period not more recent than fifteen centuries before 
 Christ, India was invaded from the north by Aryan races, who 
 conquered the Dravidian inhabitants whom they found in the 
 land, 1. As a result of this conquest, four social classes appeared. 
 The priests, warriors, and common people of the Aryans 
 constituted the three upper classes, while the conquered 
 Dravidians became the lowest class. Centuries later these 
 social classes hardened into the four original castes. At the 
 time of the conquest, the Aryans possessed a little culture. 
 They raised sheep and cattle, practised agriculture, and knew 
 how to build fortified towns and to work in metals. 
 
 The religion, as well as the general culture of the Aryan 
 conquerors then was probably not much superior to the 
 
 69 
 
70 BRAHMANISM 
 
 Baganda. They worshipped gods, ancestral ghosts, and nature 
 spirits. They sought to placate demons. They sacrificed to 
 useful objects (like the plough, the furrow, the war car, and 
 their own weapons) no doubt either thinking them fetiches 
 or desiring to impart mana to them. The mountains and 
 rivers they deemed holy. They gave objective existence to 
 abstract terms like Infinity, Piety, and Abundance, and made 
 them objects of worship. But their chief attention at this 
 period was devoted to the gods and ancestral ghosts. The 
 other objects of worship mentioned had already become less 
 important than is the case with savages like the Baganda. 
 
 The chief gods were conspicuous objects of nature, such as 
 the Sun, Sky, Earth, Air, Light, Wind, Rain, and Dawn. At 
 first these objects were simply personified. For instance, the 
 god Surya was simply the sun, the physical object appearing 
 as a red ball in the sky. Presently, however, animism developed 
 to the point where gods became differentiated from the objects 
 which they inhabited, so that different words were needed to 
 designate the sun itself, and the god of the sun. 
 
 Once this differentiation had been effected, between conspicu- 
 ous objects of nature and gods associated with them, a large 
 variety of myths developed about each important god. These 
 myths were not always consistent with one another. The 
 same functions and attributes were assigned in different myths 
 to different gods. Thus the personalities and characteristics 
 of the gods began to overlap. Several quite different gods 
 often came to be associated with the same object of nature. 
 For instance, there were many deities associated with the sun. 
 These included Surya, the original physical sun (who now not 
 only drives over the firmament but is the author of birth and is 
 petitioned for children) ; Savitar, the enlivener and vivifier 
 who gives protection, wealth and children ; Pushas, god of the 
 herdsmen; Vishnu, who moves so fast that he measures heaven 
 in three strides ; Varuna, god of the dead, leader in battle, and 
 a generous giver; and Mitra, "the friend." A large number 
 of values thus became attached to the various sun deities. 
 These gods were sometimes also confused with the sun's daugh- 
 ter, the Dawn (Ushas; cf. Aurora). 
 
 As the gods overlapped in functions, there early appeared 
 a tendency to synthesize them. A triad became pre-eminent, 
 formed of the deities of the Fire (Agni), the Rain (Varuna, 
 Indra), and the Sun (Mitra, Varuna, Vishnu, etc.). As a 
 
BRAHMANICAL PERIOD 71 
 
 late verse in the Rig Veda says, "They call him Indra, Mitra, 
 Varuna, Agni, to that which is one they give many a title." 
 From the initial letters of a representative of each of these 
 three classes of deities (Agni, Varuna, Mitra) it has been 
 thought, developed the syllable AUM, of which the term "Om" 
 prominent in Indian liturgy, is a further contraction. As 
 the early Aryan conquerors of India were fond of an alcoholic 
 beverage made from the soma plant, it is not strange that 
 Soma became a personified god. Soma was associated with 
 the Moon. Soma juice, on account, no doubt, of its intoxicat- 
 ing qualities, seemed supernatural in its functions, potent to 
 confer health and immortality, and was identified with the vital 
 sap that vivifies the world. 
 
 The values sought in this, the Vedic period (lasting perhaps 
 from 1500 B. C. to 800 B. C.) were concrete: health, victory 
 in war, wealth, children, good fortune, and the like. However, 
 before the period closed, thought of a future life had begun, 
 and men desired to enter Heaven, which was conceived material- 
 istically as a sort of Valhalla or Elysium, whose chief delights 
 would be plenty of soma juice, beautiful women, song and fight- 
 ing, as well as the privileges of returning to earth to enjoy 
 the soma and victuals prepared for them at the sacrifices offered 
 by their earthly descendants. The virtues necessary to attain 
 this Heaven were chiefly piety to gods and ancestors, liberality 
 to priests, truthfulness, and courage. 
 
 The worship by which the conservation of these values was 
 sought was simple. A share of food was set aside at each 
 family meal for the gods and ancestral ghosts, in order to 
 obtain their favor, as well perhaps, as from a kindly feeling 
 of fellowship with them. Elaborate public sacrifices were con- 
 ducted by the priests, which were often of the nature of feasts, 
 and though reverent, were joyous occasions. Food and soma 
 drink were provided in abundance and were believed to be 
 enjoyed by gods and ghosts as well as man. Most of the gods 
 were believed to be very friendly. Still, they were thought to 
 send evil when angry, and the priests knew how to perform 
 expiatory ceremonies to appease them and to free men from 
 guilt, pollution, and disease. 
 
 Ill The Brahmanical Period 
 
 A second period, lasting from perhaps 800 to 500 B. C., 
 found the priests in the ascendancy. Religious worship had 
 
72 BRAHMANISM 
 
 become their specialty, and great emphasis was placed upon 
 the exact performance of ritual. So important had this become 
 that the priests gained a prestige second only to the gods them- 
 selves. "There are two kinds of gods; for the gods are gods, 
 and priests that are learned in the Veda (the sacred writings) 
 and teach it are human gods," 2. Like sacrifice paid to the 
 gods are the fees paid to the human gods, the priests. 
 
 A striking feature of this period is the fact that the person- 
 alities of the different gods become dim. This is due, in part 
 to the outcome of Oriental flattery, in addressing each god 
 to attribute to him all the virtues and powers of all the other 
 gods. But the chief reason is that the sacrifice has become 
 all important. The ceremonial is of more consequence than 
 the god to whom it is addressed. Through the faithful per- 
 formance of sacrifices man is strengthened and sustained, and 
 is enabled to achieve immortality in Heaven. Indeed the em- 
 phasis on the sacrifice goes so far that it is asserted that the 
 gods themselves obtained Heaven through sacrifice, 2. 
 
 The mechanical character of religious worship in this period 
 on first thought seems to be a degeneration. It suggests a 
 lapse from full recognition of personal gods to the magical 
 performances of an earlier stage of religious evolution. In 
 some ways, no doubt, th?s is true. Morally, too, it appears 
 to be a degeneration. It suggests that the priests are impos- 
 ing upon the credulity of the people in order to enrich them- 
 selves. And this, also, no doubt in a measure is true. Yet, 
 on the whole, this period represents an advance both in the 
 means by which religious values are conserved, and in the 
 moral character of the values recognized. "The sacrifice is 
 indeed represented to be the only door to prosperity on earth 
 and to future bliss; but there is a quiet yet persistent belief 
 that at bottom a moral and religious life is quite as essential 
 as are the ritualistic observances, with which worship is accom- 
 panied," 4. Man's debts are fourfold : he owes sacrifices to the 
 gods ; to the seers he owes the study of the Vedas ; to his 
 ancestors he owes the duty of rearing descendants to preserve 
 the family name and worship; to his fellowmen he owes the 
 duties of hospitality. The gods enjoin truthfulness and the 
 observance of sacred days, while they forbid adultery, murder, 
 theft, abortion, gluttony, anger, and procrastination. 
 
 The psychology of the exaltation of the sacrifice in this 
 period, and of the subordination of the gods to it, is fairly 
 
PHILOSOPHICAL PERIOD 78 
 
 clear if the theory of sacrifices and mana set forth in the 
 preceding chapter be accepted. Early forms of religion, such 
 as those of the Central Australians, are not concerned with 
 gods at all, but with ceremonials thought to produce some 
 kind of impersonal power, such as at a later stage of develop- 
 ment comes to be known as mana. The ceremonial or sacrifice, 
 in other words, is older than the gods. The latter evolved to 
 explain the sacrifice, personifying the agency tKought to be 
 operative in it. This being the historical sequence, it was quite 
 natural, in the Brahmanical period in India, as attention became 
 focused on the ceremonial, that it should have been felt that it 
 was the ceremonial that produced the gods, who continued to 
 be dependent upon it. The efficacy which men attach to the 
 actions of the gods, and the influence which gods exert in con- 
 sequence upon men, are entirely dependent upon the fidelity with 
 which men perform sacrifices to them. In arguing this, the 
 author does not mean to imply that he thinks that gods in the 
 thought of India or elsewhere are purely human creations, as 
 he hopes he has already made clear. But he does believe that 
 the forms that man's conceptions of the gods assume are the 
 outcome of human experiences and practices. 
 
 IV The Philosophical Period Brahmanism 
 
 A further development took place between say B. C. 500 and 
 B. C. 100. (1) This development known as "Brahmanism," and 
 found in the Upanishads and the Vedanta, was effected by the 
 thinkers of India, the theologians and philosophers. It prob- 
 ably never greatly influenced the masses of the people, who 
 remained on the plane of thought of the earlier periods. Two 
 other general characteristics of this movement must be men- 
 tioned. (2) Its interest is primarily intellectual, rational- 
 istic, an expression of the demand of the mind for unity, for 
 the reduction of all facts to one common principle of explana- 
 tion. (3) Being primarily an intellectual movement, it has 
 comparatively little regard for moral antitheses the effort is 
 always to state the real in opposition to the unreal rather than, 
 as among the Hebrews, the good in opposition to evil, right in 
 opposition to wrong. None the less, Brahmanism in many 
 respects displays a lofty spiritual insight, and has always 
 found enthusiastic admirers among western students of India. 
 
 All the gods, for philosophical Brahmanism, are reduced to 
 one Being Brahma. This god is impersonal, when rightly 
 
74 BRAHMANISM 
 
 understood ; though those who do not fully grasp the doctrine 
 are permitted to think of him as a personal god Brahma. 
 The word, Brahma, literally means prayer.. Brahma is the 
 soul of the world, the universal God, who pervades all things, 
 and is all in all. Brahma is the fundamental, eternal reality 
 of the universe. All else is transitory, illusory, mere appear- 
 ance. 
 
 This Brahma, the soul of the universe, is, if a man can only 
 realize it, identical with the principle that he feels in his own 
 inner nature, his own inner psychic force. So the great equa- 
 tion of this religious faith is the identity between oneself 
 (Atman) and God. Brahman Atman. Suppose now, a man can 
 fully grasp and bring home to himself what this means, that 
 he is one with the force that pervades the universe! Consider 
 how sustaining, how comforting and self-assuring this would 
 be how close and intimate must be his consciousness of the 
 Divine Presence! To gain this insight is salvation. 
 
 "He who is without desire, free from desire, his desire 
 attained, whose desire is set on Self (Atman), his vital breath 
 does not pass out, but Brahman is he, and in Brahman is he 
 absorbed. As the verse says : 
 
 'When all the passion is at rest 
 
 That lurks within the heart of man, 
 Then is the mortal no more mortal, 
 
 But here and now attaineth Brahman.' " 5. 
 
 This doctrine is, of course, a form of pantheistic idealism. 
 There is the same spiritual essence in all things, and this alone 
 is eternal, and ultimately real. The universe is not mere mat- 
 ter; on the contrary, it is spiritual, rational, good. What 
 appears to us as matter is Maya (illusion) selfishness, individ- 
 uality. When I think of myself as distinct from another man, 
 I am actuated by selfishness, and led into error by illusion. 
 We are really all one in Brahma. 
 
 In this period there appears for the first time in the sacred 
 scriptures the doctrine of transmigration of souls. In a simple 
 form this conception is often found among very primitive folk, 
 and the philosophers may have learned it from the Dravidian 
 aborigines, and adapted it in order to explain the problem 
 why the fortunes of men in this life are so often ill propor- 
 tioned to their deserts. In the form which the doctrine at this 
 time assumed, it affirmed that the soul persists from one life 
 to another. It has existed in human and animal bodies before 
 
75 
 
 this life, and after death it will continue to exist in other bodies 
 human, animal, or superhuman. A man's present state is 
 the just reward for what he has done in past states of existence. 
 By this period the classes of earlier society had become hard- 
 ened into castes, and the question had arisen, "Why do some 
 men enjoy the exalted social standing and prestige of the high 
 Brahmin caste, while others are contemptible Sudras?" So 
 on this view the social order then in existence in India was 
 morally defensible; since the order of the universe is perfectly 
 just, whatever a man sows of good 'or of ill, he must ultimately 
 reap, if not in the same incarnation, then in a later one. The 
 reasoning here, it will be observed, is, in a sense, logical; it is 
 more rational than the earlier and cruder notions of the future 
 life; and it justified the existing order. Thus regarded, Brah- 
 manism is a religion of complacent optimism regarding social 
 questions; the caste is fundamentally just, there is no need of 
 social reform. 
 
 The problem of immortality in this system becomes the search 
 for a means by which one will escape unfavorable incarnations 
 in the future. How can one escape them? All men slip and 
 fall. No matter how good one may be in this life, no matter 
 into what state of existence higher than man's one may next 
 pass, temptations are liable to come and one may sin, and in 
 consequence next appear in one of the hells or be reincarnated 
 on earth in a loathsome animal form, a snake or a toad or 
 what not ! Thus conceived, the prospect of immortality is 
 surely dismal enough! Is there any way to escape such a 
 destiny ? . 
 
 The solution is this : Fix firmly in your mind, by rigorous 
 mental discipline, and constantly keep before you, this funda- 
 mental truth, "Brahma= Atman. Thou art Brahma." Know 
 this, fully realize it, act on it consistently, and you are saved. 
 You will be freed from all discontent, envy, jealousy, dissatis- 
 faction ; you will find eternal quiet and peace in Brahma. For, 
 as Brahma, all things are yours ; since Brahma is all and in all. 
 Whom can you envy? All that is, is one with you in Brahma. 
 As Brahma is eternal and unchangeable, and ever at rest, all 
 that changes for us is illusion and error to him; so if you 
 really succeed in fully identifying yourself in thought with 
 Brahma you will be at peace with the world in this life, and 
 will never again be reincarnated in a mortal body. At death 
 you will remain one with Brahma in a state of eternal blessed- 
 
76 BRAHMANISM 
 
 ness which is indescribable in human thought and language; 
 but, since it is free from all wants and desires, is more like a 
 profound and dreamless sleep, than anything else that we can 
 x imagine. 
 
 Why did the philosophers seek such a passive state of mind 
 as their highest ambition? Perhaps the hot climate, in which 
 all exertion is painful, had something to do with it. Perhaps 
 they were world weary, tired of the problems and disappoint- 
 ments of an already old and unsatisfactory civilization. Per- 
 haps the thought of an eternal cycle of rebirths filled them with 
 dismay, and some road out of finite existence appeared most 
 desirable. We Westerners have our doubts about immortality ; 
 we should like to feel assured of a future existence. But sup- 
 pose we felt certain enough that we would have future existences 
 without end, yet felt no assurance that each of them would be 
 an improvement on the preceding one, and on the other hand, 
 believed it to be highly probable that inevitably we must some 
 time pass into states far worse than our present one. On such 
 a supposition, should not we, too, regard an unchangeable 
 state of eternal quiet and rest, free from all desires and wants, 
 as blessedness indeed? 
 
 Not everyone, of course, could be expected by the Brahmin 
 philosopher to attain his insight. Common folk may well wor- 
 ship according to the light that they have, and they will receive 
 rewards proportionate to their deserts. They will of course be 
 destined to future reincarnations. Those who faithfully wor- 
 ship Brahma as a personal god, external to themselves, instead 
 of as Brahma, the impersonal soul of the world, will after 
 death pass through successively advancing states until they 
 reach the domain of Brahma where they will enjoy an exalted 
 position and the fulfillment of all their desires. There they 
 will remain until the destruction of this world, by which time 
 they will have learned to know Brahma fully, and be ready for 
 eternal rest. To those who do not even know the lower per- 
 sonal Brahma, but faithfully adhere to the old-fashioned Vedic 
 sacrifices and precepts, reward is also promised. They will 
 pass to the moon after death, where they will enjoy converse 
 with the gods as a reward for part of their good works, and 
 later they will return to earth and be reincarnated according 
 to their merits in one of the higher castes. Those who have 
 done evil works after death will go to one of the hells, and 
 later be reincarnated in the body of an animal. So everybody 
 
PHILOSOPHICAL PERIOD 77 
 
 will meet with a reward according to his capacities and 
 merits, the universe is fundamentally just and right. 
 
 The psychology of this evolution is, the author believes, 
 fairly simple. In the Vedic period all the gods were possessors 
 of mana. In the Brahmanical period it was discovered that the 
 mana possessed by the gods is the result of sacrifice and prayer, 
 that is, activities engaged in by the gods themselves and by 
 men. So the sacrifice itself becomes more important than the 
 gods who are its product. It therefore followed that, attention 
 being largely transferred from the gods to the sacrifice, the 
 gods became confused, and fused into one God. This one God 
 is called Brahma : as his name implies, he really was the product 
 of prayer and sacrifice. So all mana comes from, and in fact 
 constitutes, Brahma. And as all the gods thus are fused into 
 one, and the different sources of mana have become identified, 
 this common source ceases to be personal ; it is simply the 
 impersonal Brahma, a vast reservoir of mana. The belief 
 in mana, as was urged in Chapter III, is due to the awareness 
 of an influx into consciousness of subconscious energy. This 
 influx, and consequent heightening of consciousness, was 
 effected by the sacrifices and prayers. In prehistoric times 
 the cause of this became attributed to personal gods, and in 
 the Vedic period was still attributed to them. In the Brah- 
 manical period, men more clearly saw that, after all, the height- 
 ening of consciousness and increased effectiveness gained 
 through the sacrifices was the main thing, rather than the gods 
 to whom the sacrifices were addressed. In the Philosophical 
 period, increased reflection made it evident to thinking men 
 that the sacrifices had the same effects on men, whichever 
 gods they happen to address. The gods, therefore, 
 really are identical. They are this heightening of con- 
 sciousness itself, they are one Being, namely Prayer (Brahma). 
 This stage reached, Prayer soon ceases to be a personal God, 
 and becomes simply the abiding impersonal essence or reality 
 of all things Brahma. And, for the reflective man who has 
 come to see this, religious worship has come to be prayer and 
 meditation rather than the performance of magical rites. So 
 Brahma is spiritual force, to be gained through spiritual 
 means. Only the less intelligent need the physical aid of 
 priestly rites of a half mechanical nature. It is by looking 
 within that one finds Brahma; for it is in one's own self that 
 Brahma abides. Men who are not philosophers and cannot 
 
BRAHMANISM 
 
 >w out this reasoning may continue to think of Brahma as 
 me personal God, or they may still more confusedly believe 
 in the many gods of the Vedas. Let them be guided by the best 
 light they have. They will receive rewards proportionate to 
 that light if they follow it faithfully. 
 
 The moral values sought to be conserved by philosophical 
 Brahmanism include all those of the preceding period, and 
 besides, love and good will to all beings in the universe, calm- 
 ness and serenity of mind, freedom from faults and sins, and a 
 blessed immortality in Brahma. The agency through which 
 this is sought is evidently a further development from the 
 second period now more clearly envisaged as the impersonal 
 Brahma. The means by which this conservation of values is 
 sought is a great advance upon the Brahmanical period. It no 
 longer consists in magical sacrificial rites, but includes medi- 
 tation, clearness of intellectual and moral insight, a sort of 
 spiritual communion, in which one realizes one's identity with 
 God. 
 
 The merits of Brahmanism have been highly praised by its 
 admirers. "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," says 
 Professor Deussen, "because, the Veda here adds in explanation, 
 "thy neighbor is in truth thy very self, and what separates you 
 from him is mere illusion. . . As in this case, so at every point 
 of the system, the New Testament and the Upanishads, these 
 two noblest products of the religious consciousness of man- 
 kind, are found when we sound their deepest meaning to be 
 nowhere in irreconcileable contradiction, but in a manner the 
 most attractive serve to elucidate and complete one another," 6. 
 The Brahmin philosophy can claim one point, at least, of excel- 
 lence. It has always been extremely tolerant of other faiths, 
 and remarkably free from bigotry and persecuting tendencies. 
 It has always gladly recognized some measure of truth and 
 virtue in all religions and in all men. 
 
 On the contrary, the defects in Brahminism have been serious 
 enough. It has been only too tolerant. It has for this reason 
 failed to be a reforming religion. It has tolerated magic and 
 all manner of degrading superstitions. Far from attempting 
 to reform the cruel social injustices of the caste system, it has 
 found a moral justification for them. This religion has founded 
 no church ; it has developed no social activities ; it has cared 
 little to serve humanity. Salvation is to be won by inner medi- 
 tation by oneself. One is taught to conceive himself in an 
 
PHILOSOPHICAL PERIOD 79 
 
 intellectual manner to be identical with one's neighbor and 
 love him as oneself, but little motivation is afforded to incite 
 one to go actively to a neighbor's material assistance in any 
 manner. 
 
 Nor is this the worst. It is hard for many men to attain 
 to the idealistic insight prescribed by Brahmanism. This phil- 
 . osophy therefore readily became corrupted very early. Two 
 of these corruptions must be noticed, as they had some influence 
 on the Buddha. (1) The Samkya philosophy refused to iden- 
 tify all subjects and objects completely, and to merge them 
 into a world soul. Matter is real, individuals are real in this 
 life. There is no Brahma. This philosophy is frankly athe- 
 istic. It is also pessimistic. Desire is the great evil how 
 become free from desire, disappointment and sorrow in this 
 life and endless rebirths in the future? (2) The answer was 
 offered by the Yoga school, who attempted to work out a way 
 of salvation through asceticism. Withdraw from your senses 
 and become one with the Atman, conceived as a personal God 
 external to the universe and creator of it. It is hard to do 
 this through meditation. Physical exercises assist. Sit in a 
 peculiar and exhausting position, hold your breath, look at 
 3 r our nose, and meditate on the sacred word "Om" with com- 
 plete fixation of attention until you pass into an auto-hypnotic 
 trance and feel yourself one with the Atman. After three 
 months of such practice, the faithful disciple will attain to 
 knowledge ; after four, to the vision of the gods ; after five, to 
 their strength; and after six, to their absolute nature. This 
 practice delivers from all sins, though they are as mountains 
 rising many miles high. 
 
 It would be unjust to conclude, however, that Brahmanism 
 totally failed to recognize moral values involving social rela- 
 tionships. The highest ideal, to be sure, was that of the un- 
 social hermit ; but most persons are laymen, living in ordinary 
 social relationships. The code of Manu, which may be 
 taken roughly to represent the moral and social ideals 
 operative in the period that produced philosophical Brahman- 
 ism, discloses many merits. The moral superiority of good 
 acts performed without desire for rewards is recognized, 
 as is also the necessity for a spiritual change in one's char- 
 acter, so that a man becomes "twice born" 1 an expression 
 that reminds one of Jesus' talk with Nicodemus. Con- 
 fession and repentance of sins are enjoined. The more 
 
80 BRAHMANISM 
 
 iocial and spiritual view of conduct Is everywhere emerg- 
 ing, but it does not succeed in breaking away completely 
 from earlier magical notions which impede its full expres- 
 sion. The "twice born" man is to avoid causing harm 
 to any fellow human being or animal; and among the other 
 virtues recognized are humanity and chivalry in warfare, truth- 
 fulness and courtesy, and the avoidance of low occupations and 
 mean methods of gain in private life. But the general tone of 
 moral precepts is largely negative : an enemy is to be ignored, 
 an advance upon earlier ideas of blood vengeance, to be sure, 
 but not so lofty as a recognition of the duty of forgiveness 
 and reconciliation would have been. And magical conceptions 
 persist regrettably ; as, for instance, when it is said that "even 
 he who has stolen gold instantly becomes free from guilt if he 
 once mutters" a certain hymn, 7. 
 
 We must credit philosophical Brahmanism with a great 
 advance upon the stages that preceded it. It succeeded in 
 reducing the gods to a single principle, and in bringing this 
 principle into intimate relation with the true self or ^personality 
 of man. This is a profound insight; indispensable in some 
 form or other, for every spiritual religion. Man must, if he 
 is to conserve his higher moral values through religion, find 
 in the world order an Agency that will conserve these values, 
 and it must be possible for him completely to identify his own 
 personality with that Agency. There must be some sort of 
 at-onement between the individual soul and the Agency. What 
 man is, and what he has learned to be morally desirable, must 
 in some sense be appreciated and maintained in the world order. 
 The support of the world order must be rendered available to 
 man. Philosophical Brahmanism in some respects succeeded 
 in working out an articulate account of the universe, and how 
 through religion man may gain what he has learned to be 
 morally most valuable. 
 
 V Modern Hinduism 
 
 Philosophical Brahmanism, as we have seen, was too pro- 
 found and subtle to win the adherence of the masses of the 
 people of India. The finest product of Indian religious evolu- 
 tion Buddhism though popular in some regions for cen- 
 turies, finally lost its hold, and has long since practically dis- 
 appeared from India. Each of the various faiths now dominant 
 in India (other than Mohammedanism a foreign importation 
 
HINDUISM 81 
 
 and minor sects like Jainism) centers about one or the other 
 of two deities, Shiva and Vishnu. These gods have evolved 
 from early Hindu deities held in popular esteem. 
 
 The Shiva and Vishnu religions, when held by intellectuals, 
 are interpreted in ways that show the influence of philosophical 
 Brahmanism. Shiva (or Vishnu, as the case may be) is the one 
 impersonal and all pervading God, the duty of the individual is 
 to realize his identity with Him, and the various gods of the 
 popular religions are imperfect but partially real manifesta- 
 tions (or incarnations) of this one God. The law of Karma 
 prevails, and the universe is governed on principles of absolute 
 justice that are superior to any personal god. 
 
 But most Hindus are not intellectuals. For them Shiva and 
 his wife (most frequently known as Kali) Vishnu, and Krishna 
 (the most popular of the various men in whom Vishnu has 
 become incarnate, for the salvation of mankind) and numerous 
 other gods are worshipped, in temples and at home, with the 
 aid of images and emblems of a material sort. The personalities 
 of these gods are not so clear cut in the worshipper's mind, as 
 is the case in most polytheistic religions (possibly as a result 
 of Brahmanism), and to them are attributed quite contradic- 
 tory characteristics. Shiva, the "destroyer" or "terrible one," 
 is often thought of as gentle and merciful; he controls, or is, 
 the reproductive force in nature ; he is a great ascetic, who 
 lives alone in the mountains ; he is a destroyer of demons and 
 protector of those who put their faith in him. His wife, 
 when thought of as Parvati or Uma is a model Hindu lady 
 subject to her husband. But in her more popular forms, as 
 Kali, Durga, Devi, she is a bloodthirsty creature who delights 
 in shedding blood and to whom bloody animal sacrifices must 
 be offered; while, on the other hand, she is thought of as the 
 "universal mother," who is not merely the female reproductive 
 force of the universe, but a kind and tender mother, with a 
 place in the love and confidence of her worshippers that can 
 almost be compared with that held by the Blessed Virgin Mary 
 in the hearts of pious Roman Catholics. Vishnu is variously 
 conceived as an anthropomorphic god, dwelling with his wife 
 in a definite locality, and as an infinite spirit present every- 
 where, and alone real. He is the god of love, both as con- 
 ceived in a lofty spiritual sense, and in an erotic manner. The 
 Krishna cult believe that Vishnu becomes incarnated from age 
 to age as a man, when religion is in danger, and men are in 
 
82 BRAHMANISM 
 
 need of his deliverance. In the most important of his numerous 
 incarnations, he was miraculously born of a mortal woman, 
 reared in the lowly home of a cowherd, and known as Krishna. 
 He performed many miracles, had sixteen thousand wives, and 
 was renowned for his irregular amours. Krishna is variously 
 interpreted as basely erotic and as a "God of Love" in such 
 a sense as a Christian might use the term. He is frequently 
 worshipped as a child, and in this form makes an appeal in 
 some ways similar to that of the infant Jesus in Catholic lands. 
 He is known as the "Holy Child," "Gentle Shepherd of the 
 People," "Wise Counsellor," "Blessed Lord," "tender Lover 
 and Saviour," etc. 
 
 It is not hard to understand why the masses in India have 
 preferred as agencies for the conservation of their values these 
 personal human gods, rather than the impersonal Brahma. 
 The man who seeks success in a business transaction or the 
 recovery of his sick child may come to the temple and ask 
 Shiva's help, and feel confident that he will receive it. The 
 sorrowing mother can be comforted with the thought that her 
 dead child is now with the Great Mother (Kali, Durga) as 
 can also the young girl be comforted with a similar hope for 
 herself when she resolutely sacrifices her life to aid her father 
 and further the cause of social reform, 8. 
 
 On one side Hinduism is wonderfully successful in finding in 
 gods the means for the conservation of values. The gods appar- 
 ently are ready to conserve all values sought by all men. On 
 the other side Hinduism appears to be a lamentable failure. 
 It fails to make religion emphatically serve the cause of right- 
 eousness. The gods are unmoral (not immoral) and unclearly, 
 if at all, serve to teach men to prefer good to evil. On this 
 side it might even be asked if Hinduism is not to be classed 
 with the nature religions rather than the ethical religions. 
 Prostitution is a regular feature in some of the temples. Ideas 
 and practises that involve animism, magic, even fetichism, hard- 
 ily persist. Images of gods are dressed, fed, bathed and taken 
 for afternoon drives in ways that are inconceivably crude and 
 naive. The same gods, who for baser folk conserve the values 
 of eroticism and theft, are earnestly worshipped by people of 
 high moral principles who obtain from them aid and support in 
 all the trials of life, and in struggles for the moral and spiritual 
 values recognized by all good men and women of civilized 
 nations. It is scarcely an exaggeration to say that there is 
 
WHY BRAHMANISM FAILED 83 
 
 nothing that anyone (however good or bad he may be) thinks 
 of as a value and desires, that he cannot seek with the aid of a 
 respectable Hindu god or goddess, from success in theft or 
 seduction to forgiveness of sins, freedom from rebirths and a 
 life of immortal blessedness! In modern Hinduism all values 
 appear to be socially recognized, so far as the gods are con- 
 cerned. Hinduism thus only too readily recognizes that there 
 is a measure of truth in all religions, from those of wild hill folk 
 whose obscene and bloodthirsty deities can be regarded as mani- 
 festations of Shiva to those of Buddhists and Christians, the 
 founders of whose religions are readily acceptable as incarna- 
 tions of Vishnu, incarnations inferior, of course, to Krishna, 
 the seducer of countless milkmaids! 
 
 Yoga asceticism has been more successful than philosophical 
 Brahmanism in holding the popular attention. India is full 
 of ascetics five million or more, according to the census of 
 1901 who engage in all sorts of severe austerities: fasting, 
 keeping the arms perpetually upraised or the face continually 
 turned to the sky until muscles stiffen and no other position 
 remains possible; allowing the nails to grow through clenched 
 hands, unfitting a man for work of any sort ; lying upon spikes ; 
 refusing to wash the face, comb the hair or bathe, or wear 
 clothes ; as well as mechanical means of self-hypnosis for the 
 sake of gaining conquest of self and union with the divine. A 
 few of these ascetics are honestly seeking to cultivate a higher 
 life by these pathetically futile methods. The majority, how- 
 ever, are rascally beggars and impostors who make an easy 
 living by appearing in public where they ostentatiously engage 
 in such austerities and condescend to accept the gifts which 
 the credulously pious bestow upon them. 
 
 VI Concluding Remarks 
 
 Suggestive as is philosophical Brahmanism to the student, 
 and admirable as it is in many ways as the first attempt to 
 develop a redemptive religion, it is evident why it was bound 
 to fail. Religion is a product of the social life ; it cannot thrive 
 unless it can remain an organic part of the life of an entire 
 people. If it becomes the private possession of a highly culti- 
 vated class, and is inaccessible in its higher insights to the 
 masses of men, it will be bound ultimately to fail. The masses 
 are in the majority, and the purer faith of the esoteric few 
 will in time become corrupted by the baser notions of the many. 
 
84 BRAHMANISM 
 
 Only through active service to the needs of all can a religion 
 permanently be successful in maintaining itself. And a religion 
 cannot endure in its higher forms, if it idly regards the lower 
 forms of religion in the _i.iion with complacent toleration, and 
 makes no honest missionary effort to enlighten all and bring 
 them up to higher levels. If a lofty religion could anywhere 
 in the world have been maintained uncorrupted as the exclusive 
 possession of a privileged class, this would have been the case 
 in India, where,the higher castes are in large measure segregated 
 from the lower castes. But religion is bound under anv con- 
 ditions to be rather democratic; the opinions of the majority 
 are bound in the end to prevail and influence the minority. If a 
 minority wishes to preserve its more enlightened religious con- 
 ceptions, whether of moral values or of conserving agency, it 
 must share them with the majority. 
 
 This is as true in America to-day as it ever was in India. 
 If religious liberals hope to preserve their more scientific con- 
 ceptions of God and their emphasis upon the moral values of 
 toleration, social service and progress, they cannot permit the 
 masses in church and synagogue to go on unenlightened. 
 The future of religion will never be assured in this country so 
 long as more intelligent worshippers are indifferent to the 
 obligation upon all true Christians and Jews to make their 
 places of worship frequented by all classes and strata of 
 society. Let us not permit enlightened religion, whether Prot- 
 estant, Catholic, or Jewish, to become a sort of philosophical 
 Brahmanism, the possession of a cultivated few, who do not 
 care to disturb the cruder notions and simpler faith of their 
 less educated brothers and sisters, and who are indifferent to 
 the great call for social service and juster economic and cul- 
 tural opportunities for the masses. The fate of philosophical 
 Brahmanism in India should be instructive to us in America 
 
 to-day. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 *G. F. MOORE, History of Religion. Chapters XI-XIV. 
 *E. W. HOPKINS, History of Religion. Chapters XI, XIII. 
 E. W. HOPKINS, The Religions of India. 
 
 *MONIEB MoNiER-WrLLiAjrs, Brahmanism and Hinduism. 
 *GEORGE A. BARTON, Religions of the World, Chapters VIII, X. 
 
 PAUL DEUSSEN^ The Philosophy of the Upanishads. The System of the 
 Vedanta. Outline of the Vedanta. 
 
 J. B. PRATT, Psychology of Religious Belief. Chapter IV. India and 
 Its Faiths. 
 
 *J. N. FAEQTTHAH, The Crown of Hinduism. 
 *L. T. HOBHOUSE, Morals in Evolution, Part II, Chapter III. 
 Sacred Books of the East: "Vedi'c Hymns," "Brahmanas," "Upani- 
 shads," "Code of Manu," "Vedanta," "Bhagavad Gita," etc. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 BUDDHISM 
 I Introduction 
 
 BUDDHISM arose in India about five centuries before thej 
 Christian era. Its relation to Brahmanism has been compared 
 with that of Christianity to Judaism or of Protestantism to 
 the medieval Latin church. Buddhism was a movement for 
 deeper moral earnestness and spirituality, for the purification 
 of abuses and the abolishment of legalism and formalism in 
 creed and ritual, for the spiritual equality of all men in 
 opposition to religious distinctions based on caste and rank, and 
 for a general awakening from the spiritual lethargy that had 
 fallen over India. 
 
 The historic founder of Buddhism was Prince Siddartha, of 
 the Gautama family, usually referred to as Gautama- Siddartha. 
 He was the son of a rajah of the Sakya clan, who occupied the 
 region at the foot of the Himalyas which is now Nepal, as well 
 as districts of India immediately adjacent. He lived approxi- 
 mately from B. C. 560 to 480. Siddartha was in every sense 
 one of the greatest, wisest, and best of men who have ever lived. 
 He has been loved and revered by more human beings in more 
 lands than any other man, with the exception of Jesus of 
 Nazareth. The followers of Siddartha refer to him by various 
 epithets, as the Buddha (the Enlightened or Awakened One), 
 the Tathagata (one who like his predecessors has come into 
 the world to bring the true doctrine to light), Bhagava (the 
 Blessed Lord), and Sasta (the Teacher, or Master). 
 
 To become a Buddhist, in the countries in which the religion 
 retains most of its original purity, requires a public profession 
 of one's faith, by reciting the "Refuge" formula, viz. "I take 
 my refuge in the Buddha. I take my refuge in the Doctrine 
 (Dhamma). I take my refuge in the Brotherhood (Sangha)." 
 We may arrive at some idea of what the earlier Buddhism was 
 by examining in order the facts on which these three articles 
 of faith are based. 
 
 II The Buddha 
 
 Western scholars are now generally agreed that the Buddha 
 
 85 
 
86 BUDDHISM 
 
 conception does not owe its origin to a sun myth, but to the 
 historical man, Prince Siddartha. There is little doubt that 
 the main facts of his life and character may be extracted from 
 the sacred scripture (the Pitakas). It is only necessary to 
 discount as legendary the lavish embellishments such as the 
 miracles, the impossible richness and extravagance of the royal 
 court in which he was reared, and the numbers and rank of the 
 converts gained to the faith during his life time and the 
 details that remain furnish a sufficiently accurate account. 
 Siddartha was the son of a petty chief, and when young was 
 married to his first cousin, the daughter of a neighboring 
 rajah. When about twenty- nine he passed through severe 
 spiritual struggles, and at last forsook his home and sought 
 some way of salvation. He studied under the best teachers 
 available (probably of the Samkya sect), 1, but got no satisfac- 
 tion. He then zealously practised Yoga, 1, for six years, but 
 found himself merely physically weakened by excessive fasting 
 and in no way spiritually enlightened. When about thirty-five 
 he passed through another great crisis under a Bodhi tree 
 where he experienced a remarkable conversion. All of his 
 doubts and difficulties disappeared, and he gained great inward 
 peace and contentment of soul. He had found the way of 
 salvation in a manner simpler intellectually than any form of 
 philosophical Brahmanism, more normal physically than the 
 ascetic austerities of Yoga, and on a higher moral and spiritual 
 plane than either. Should he continue to live a quiet and 
 retired life in calmness and serenity, now that at last he had 
 gained happiness? Or should he go out into the world and 
 proclaim the glad tidings of salvation? At first he hesitated, 
 doubting if it would be possible to induce others to believe 
 him, but he decided to make the attempt. He met with imme- 
 diate success, so convincing was his sincerity, so clear his 
 teachings, and so inspiring his personality. He gathered about 
 him a company of followers whom he organized into a monastic 
 order. For some forty-five successive years he and his brother 
 monks during the dry season went about on foot preaching the 
 faith all over that part of India, while he instructed the monks 
 during the rainy season. He lived to extreme old age, and 
 enjoyed the satisfaction of knowing that his religion had 
 become firmly established, and that his monks perfectly 
 understood and accepted his doctrine and were free from doubts 
 difficulties concerning it. He died among his disciples, 
 
THE BUDDHA 87 
 
 whom he had taught not to mourn him, but to think of him 
 as having passed into eternal rest and bliss, to which they would 
 ultimately also arrive. Shortly before his death he said to 
 them "There may be some among you, who will think after 
 I am gone : Our teacher is dead ; we have no longer any guide. 
 But it is not thus you should think. The doctrines I have 
 taught you and the rules of the Brotherhood I have laid down 
 for you, these are to be, after I am gone, your teacher and 
 guide." His last words were these: "Brethren, keep in mind 
 those words of mine: Whatever is born perishes. Strive 
 unceasingly for your deliverance." 
 
 Such are the facts of the Buddha's life as modern rationalistic 
 higher critics leave them. Nor need an intelligent Buddhist 
 object greatly to this emasculation. The Pitakas are not 
 regarded by orthodox believers as infallible or inerrant. The 
 truth of the Buddha's teaching is not thought essentially to 
 depend upon the testimony of miracles or the fulfilment of 
 prophecies. So if the miracles and prophetic fulfilments be 
 eliminated from the Buddhist scriptures little harm is done. 
 The serene and lofty personality of the Buddha himself 
 remains, and the doctrine that he taught is, in the opinion of 
 Buddhists, so clear and convincing that it needs only to be 
 thoroughly understood to be accepted. 
 
 The place of the Buddha himself is different from that 
 usually occupied by the founder of a religion. He is in no 
 sense a god, nor divine, nor is he a divinely inspired messenger 
 or prophet, nor is he a personal Saviour. He is a man, who 
 by his own exertions attained supreme knowledge and moral 
 perfection for himself, and has made known to the world how 
 any one, if he perseveres faithfully, may ultimately gain the 
 same blessings. No one, not even the Buddha, can do anything 
 to effect the salvation of another man. Each human being 
 must unaided work out his own salvation. The faithful, 
 however, naturally feel gratitude to the Buddha, for having 
 made his way of salvation known to man, and they lovingly 
 and reverently bring flowers and engage in meditation before 
 his statues much as we might do before a statue or picture of 
 a beloved and revered American, like Washington or Lincoln. 
 
 The personal character of the Buddha is that of a man first 
 consumed with horror at the vastness of human suffering, and 
 then gladdened and rendered serene, calm and confident when 
 he had discovered, as he believed, the means of deliverance from 
 
88 BUDDHISM 
 
 sorrow. He appears everywhere after his enlightenment as 
 calm, tender, wise, hospitable and forgiving. He lives in the 
 same simple and unpretentious manner as the monks, clad like 
 them in the humble yellow robes of the order, and starts out 
 every morning begging his food. If he is unemotional, this is 
 because he is so utterly self-possessed that nothing could disturb 
 him, but he is always considerate to the utmost of those about 
 him. In fact, the immediate cause of his death was due to 
 eating dried pork which had been set before the aged man by 
 a kindly but ignorant host who would have been embarrassed 
 had the food been declined. His method of instruction is 
 largely in the dialogue form, reminding one somewhat of 
 Socrates; but he did not enjoy the good fortune of the latter 
 in having a Plato to record the conversations. In some respects 
 he may be said to stand midway between Socrates and Jesus. 
 Like Socrates, he merely professes to be a teacher, and seeks 
 to convince his pupils by argument. He claims for himself 
 (according .to the higher critics be it understood) no super- 
 natural origin or authority. Like Jesus, he is the founder 
 of a religion and not primarily a philosopher, and the attitude 
 of his companions is that of disciples rather than pupils. In 
 consequence the sacred writings became embellished, as we have 
 seen, with supernatural events, as was not the case with the 
 accounts of Socrates. 
 
 Ill The Doctrine 
 
 What Siddartha sought was the solution of the problem 
 of evil and suffering. He could not be happy in a life in 
 which there is so much sorrow and disappointment, nor in a 
 state in which man is destined to future rebirths which also 
 are certain to contain much misery. He sought some means 
 of mental discipline and some form of spiritual insight that 
 would afford him peace and serenity here and hereafter. The 
 essential outlines of his doctrine of salvation are recorded in 
 the Dhamma-KaJcka-ppavattana-sutta ("The Foundation of 
 the Kingdom of Righteousness"), which purports to be the 
 sermon which he delivered near Benares at the beginning of 
 his ministry, to the five mendicants with whom he had earlier 
 practised Yoga, and who were among his first converts. 
 
 According to this discourse, all individual finite existence is 
 bound up in sorrow. Hence the "four noble truths." The first 
 of these is the "noble truth concerning suffering." Birth, 
 decay, disease and death are all painful, and so are union with 
 
THE DOCTRINE 89 
 
 the unpleasant, separation from the pleasant, and all unsatisfied 
 desires. The five khandas, or material and mental aggregates 
 that constitute an individual person, are all painful. (In other 
 words, pain inevitably results from existence as an individual.) 
 The second is the "noble truth concerning the origin of 
 suffering." This is due to craving for the gratification of the 
 passions, for future life (as a finite individual), and for 
 ordinary worldly success in this life. (That is, all desires 
 centered about the self, and consequently more or less tinctured 
 with selfishness, are the causes of human suffering.) The third 
 "noble truth" is that "concerning the destruction of suffering." 
 There must be absolute destruction of every selfish and 
 self-seeking desire in order to encompass the destruction of 
 suffering. The fourth "noble truth" points out "the way 
 which leads to the destruction of suffering." This way is the 
 pursuit of the noble eight-fold path of "right views, 
 aspirations, speech, conduct, livelihood, effort, mindfulness and 
 contemplation." 
 
 In this particular discourse the eight-fold path is not further 
 described in detail. The Buddha proceeds to explain that these 
 discoveries of his have not been made by studying tradition, 
 but by his own intellectual perception, knowledge, understand- 
 ing and wisdom. Through his own unaided efforts he has 
 discovered the truth, acted upon it, gained deliverance from 
 all selfish desires, and so now enjoys calmness and rest in this 
 life and is assured that he will escape further rebirths. The 
 right life for a monk who has renounced the world is a middle 
 path between sensuous enjoyments and extreme asceticism and 
 mortification. 
 
 Nirvana is the name given to the state of supreme enlighten- 
 ment and bliss, when all the fetters binding one to the world 
 have been broken, and one is an Arahat (saint), free from 
 all desires while living, and'destined upon death never again to 
 become incarnated in a mortal body. The fact that Nirvana 
 can be attained and enjoyed in this life is thought by many 
 interpreters to make it clear that it is not as is sometimes 
 alleged, a state of utter annihilation. It would seem, since 
 the same term is applied to a state attainable in this life and 
 a state after death, that the two states must be quite similar. 
 Yet the denial of the existence of a substantial soul and the 
 insistence that with the attainment of Nirvana the khandas 
 that constitute finite individuality are destroyed seem to make 
 
90 BUDDHISM 
 
 it difficult to see how it can be a state of personal immortality. 
 On the other hand, it cannot be a state in which the individual 
 becomes absorbed in God or the world soul, the goal of 
 philosophical Brahmanism and many forms of western mysti- 
 cism and pantheism since primitive Buddhism denies the 
 existence of any such world soul or God. Gautama Siddartha 
 discouraged all speculation about ultimates such as Nirvana, 
 the essential nature of the universe, whether or not it had a 
 creator, and its final destiny. The fundamental thing for man 
 is to gain a peaceful state of existence that will be perpetually 
 free from pains and desires and rebirths into finite existence. 
 That for him seemed the one great good, the permanent 
 release from sorrow, and attention should not be distracted 
 by idle speculation. 
 
 It is therefore impossible to give a precise definition of 
 Nirvana that would be accepted by all Buddhists. It can at 
 least be said, however, that it is a state of calmness and serenity 
 of mind attainable in this life in which a person is free from 
 envy, anger, jealousy, and all forms of selfish desires. He is 
 not only imperturbable, he is also full of love and gentleness 
 for all living beings men, animals, spirits, gods, and even 
 demons. He is assured that he will have no future rebirths. 
 His personal character, of course, is spotless. "The kingdom 
 of heaven that is within a man, the peace that passeth under- 
 standing, is the nearest analogy to the Buddhist Nirvana 
 which I know of in Western thought," says Rhys Davids, 2. 
 
 The law of Karma is similar to that of philosophical 
 Brahmanism. All deeds, good and bad, work out their moral 
 recompense, either in this or in a future state of existence. 
 Good deeds give "merit" and make possible a better state on 
 one's next rebirth ; evil deeds condemn one to a worse state. 
 The universe is absolutely governed by laws of moral justice, 
 which for the Buddhist are as inherent in the nature of things 
 as is gravitation for the modern physicist. What a man sows 
 must he also reap, as a matter of natural law. In this respect, 
 at least, Buddhism is not pessimistic. It believes implicitly in 
 the fundamental justice of the world order. This is undoubtedly 
 a moral universe. 
 
 Since salvation is worked out by one's own efforts, apart 
 from divine interference, primitive Buddhism is sometimes 
 described as an atheistic religion. There is no place in it for 
 prayers to a deity, or to the Buddha himself. Meditation and 
 
THE DOCTRINE 91 
 
 spiritual exercises and faithful practise of moral precepts 
 alone are possible. The existence of beings superior to men 
 (gods and angels as well as demons) is admitted. But none 
 of these, any more than a fellow man, can either further or 
 hinder one's progress in working out one's own salvation. And 
 to attain the peace of Nirvana is more blessed than to be a god. 
 
 Roughly speaking, Buddhism may be said to have anticipated 
 the position held by most phychologists and philosophers since 
 the time of David Hume (f!776), that there is no soul, if 
 by a soul is meant the Atman of Brahmanism, or some sort of 
 spiritual substance that exists independent of the brain and of 
 changing states of consciousness. Hume showed that it is 
 impossible to discover in consciousness any such separate Ego 
 or self or soul different in substance to one's changing states of 
 consciousness, 3. An old man is identical with a child born 
 eighty years ago, not by any tissues in his body nor by any 
 mental states that have persisted unchanged through all the 
 years of his life. The identity is one of function. The relation 
 of an individual in this life to the individual whom his karma 
 and desires will next bring into existence is comparable to the 
 relation between a child and the man into whom he grows. There 
 is functional continuity, but not continuity of either physical or 
 mental structures. The denial of the existence of a soul in this 
 technical sense does not lessen the Buddhist's fear of an 
 unfavorable rebirth, nor his desire to accumulate merit and so 
 pass into a higher state of existence next time, and ultimately 
 to attain Nirvana. 
 
 The Buddha did not teach his doctrines in their fulness to 
 beginners, especially to those who desired to continue in the 
 world as laymen and not become members of the Brotherhood. 
 For the Buddhist layman, who wishes to lead a satisfactory 
 moral life, to acquire merit so as to earn a favorable state of 
 existence in his next rebirth, and to know that after a succession 
 of rebirths he ultimately will reach Nirvana, the chief require- 
 ments are acceptance of the triple "Refuge" profession of 
 faith, in which he declares his loyalty to the Buddha, the 
 Doctrine, and the monastic Brotherhood, and obedience to the 
 first five "commandments." The first commandment, "Thou 
 shalt not kill," forbids the taking of all life, even animal life. 
 Buddhists are vegetarians. Originally, at least, hunting and 
 warfare were believed to be wrong, and they are still regarded 
 
92 BUDDHISM 
 
 with extreme disfavor in southern Buddhist lands. The second 
 commandment, "Thou shalt not steal," forbids all forms of 
 dishonesty and enjoins liberality, even to the extent, in extreme 
 cases, of being willing to give one's life for others. The third 
 commandment, "Thou shalt not be unchaste," forbids fornica- 
 tion and adultery upon the part of laymen, and enjoins celibacy 
 upon monks. The fourth commandment, "Thou shalt not lie," 
 forbids all falsehood, and enjoins saying good of one's 
 neighbor, and what is conducive to harmony. The fifth com- 
 mandment, "Thou shalt not drink intoxicating liquors," 
 probably originally enjoined complete total abstinence for 
 one's self, and the duty to disapprove of their use by others. 
 The command is sometimes liberally interpreted to permit 
 laymen to use wines and malt liquors in moderation. It is 
 agreed that it forbids the use of distilled liquors absolutely, 
 and that of any drink to a state of approaching intoxication. 
 
 To those who will keep three additional commandments "a 
 greater reward will be obtained" more favorable rebirths and 
 a speedier attainment of Nirvana. The sixth commandment 
 is "Thou shalt not eat food at unseasonable times" (i. e., after 
 the mid-day meal). The seventh commandment is "Thou shalt 
 not wear garlands or use perfumes." The eighth command- 
 ment is, "Thou shalt sleep on a mat spread upon the ground." 
 Conformity to these three commandments is optional for the 
 layman, but is praiseworthy, especially upon the weekly holy 
 days. In some respects these three commandments might be 
 compared to Christian observance of Lent. To deny oneself 
 certain not immoral but unnecessary pleasures will give one 
 more time for meditation on religious matters, and will be 
 valuable for one's further religious development. The ten 
 "vows" are similar, and in addition include among the 
 practises optional for laymen, but binding upon the monks, 
 the refusal of gold and silver and the adoption of a life of 
 poverty. 
 
 One criticism of the Buddhist body of doctrine may be 
 considered before we pass on to other topics, its pessimism. 
 As has already been pointed out, the doctrine of Karma is not 
 really pessimistic. Without maintaining belief in an omnipo- 
 tent God of the Jewish, Christian, or Moslem types, Buddhism 
 is not less certain of the fundamental justice and righteousness 
 of the world order. The Buddha on this point was more 
 confident than the writers of Job and Ecclesiastes. However, 
 
THE DOCTRINE 98 
 
 it must be admitted that the "four noble truths" are genuinely 
 pessimistic, if they are to be taken literally. If they really 
 mean that "the will to live" (the impulses that bring individual 
 lives into existence and prompt men to seek advancement in 
 the world) is fundamentally bound to lead to sorrow and 
 defeat, and that complete escape can only be gained by 
 renunciation of the world in a convent and discipline for the 
 purpose of gaining a state of ultimate extinction, the teaching 
 of the Buddha is pessimistic to the core. Thus interpreted, 
 the "four noble truths" are as psychologically false as they 
 are ethically unsound. It is not true that all striving and 
 desire are painful. On the contrary, they are only painful 
 when they are checked and impeded. Successful striving is 
 pleasurable. If all striving were to cease, all consciousness 
 would also come to an end ; Nirvana in this case would have 
 to be absolute extinction of conscious existence. It is true 
 that an ethics which regards the supreme good in life as 
 pleasure is liable to become pessimistic, since pleasant feelings 
 never endure. If you strive for some object and are successful 
 in endeavoring to gain it, you will feel pleasure during the 
 struggle; but after the object has been gained, it will shortly 
 cease to afford you pleasant feelings, because your attention 
 will turn to something else and you will be striving for that. 
 No one is more liable to become thoroughly pessimistic than a 
 man who devotes his whole time to pleasure seeking. If Gautama 
 Siddartha became such a pessimist, the legends must be right 
 in saying that his father placed him in pleasure palaces, and 
 expected him to be contented with nothing to do but amuse 
 himself. No serious minded man or woman can be happy in 
 a life devoted to selfish amusements. 
 
 Nor does the real happiness of life come in turning one's 
 back on the world, retiring within the recesses of one's own 
 inner consciousness and remaining in a state of idle contempla- 
 tion. On the contrary, real happiness or satisfaction is a 
 concomitant of earnest efforts and successful achievements. 
 One sets out to do something, and enjoys the efforts which he 
 makes, and, for the moment, the success which crowns them; 
 then a new ambition arises before him which his previous 
 success has made possible, he achieves this in turn (or some- 
 thing else, for our plans often reshape themselves as our 
 experience continues) ; and so he keeps on advancing from one 
 goal to another, until his life draws to its close. Such a life 
 
94 BUDDHISM 
 
 if good from a moral standpoint, as any really successful life 
 must be, always has large satisfactions. Such a life is neces- 
 sarily a social life ; for success in anything involves co-operation 
 and service. Gautama Siddartha's own life is a good illustration. 
 He could not long have remained contented if he had tried to 
 live by himself in solitary bliss after he had attained enlighten- 
 ment under the Bodhi tree. Only by doing as he did going 
 out into the world, sharing his goodness with others, and 
 building up a great religious community that brought a higher 
 life to countless multitudes of people could this good man 
 have retained his own inward satisfaction. If the "Four Noble 
 Truths" are pure pessimism, the Buddha certainly practised 
 far better than he preached. 
 
 However, the author, at any rate, is not certain that the 
 "Four Noble Truths" are really so pessimistic as they sound. 
 They certainly did not sadden the Buddha's first converts. 
 And for centuries after the Buddha's decease, Buddhism 
 remained an active missionary religion. Buddhism for the first 
 thousand years of its history has only been excelled by 
 Christianity in its active service in various forms of humani- 
 tarianism, as well as in promoting the advance of civilization. 
 It was only as it became decadent that it became apathetic. 
 Nor to this day are the people of Buddhist countries sad and 
 pessimistic. They are as calm, cheerful and happy as the 
 adherents of any other religion, more so than the present day 
 adherents of the Hinduism that ultimately supplanted Buddhism 
 in India. The Burmese, who to-day retain Buddhism in as 
 pure a form as any nation, are world famed for their gaiety 
 and light heartedness. 
 
 That Buddhism should make its adherents lighthearted is 
 easy to see. It assures men of the absolute justice of the 
 universe, and that one's good works are certain to be rewarded. 
 Most men hope for a future life under better conditions. This 
 Buddhism promises to all who will follow its teachings. It 
 removes all kinds of superstitious fears ; there is no need to be 
 afraid of demons, ghosts, angry gods or black magic, one's 
 own salvation rests entirely with oneself. It also frees men 
 from exploitation by a rapacious priesthood; one's salvation 
 can only be worked out by oneself, and the only clergy in the 
 religion are the monks, bound to a life of poverty. The moral 
 teachings are simple and lofty. The Buddha said that to be 
 a "true Brahmin" as we might say, a "true Christian" is 
 
95 
 
 not a matter of birth or caste, but of right living, and possible 
 for everyone. "I do not call a man a Brahmin because of his 
 origin or of his mother. . . . Him I call indeed a Brahmin 
 who, though he has committed no offense, endures reproach, 
 stripes, and bonds. . . Him I call indeed a Brahmin who is 
 tolerant with the intolerant, mild with the violent, and free 
 from greed among the greedy. Him I call indeed a Brahmin 
 from whom anger and hatred, pride and hypocrisy have dropped 
 like a mustard seed from the point of a needle," 4. The follower 
 of the Buddha is to follow the ideal goodness resting on 
 universal love. "And he lets his mind pervade one quarter of 
 the world with thoughts of love, and so the second, and so the 
 third, and so the fourth. And thus the whole wide world, 
 above, below, around and everywhere, does he continue to 
 pervade with heart of Love, far-reaching, grown great, and 
 beyond measure," 5. And for those more thoughtful and 
 serious-minded folk, who wish to lead a life devoted to religious 
 thought, and so more speedily to gain Nirvana, a more perfect 
 way is provided by entrance into the Brotherhood. It is no 
 one's duty to sacrifice his life by entering a convent; indeed, 
 for any one to whom such a course would seem a sacrifice and 
 not simply a great privilege, it is not advised. This leads us 
 to specific notice of the Brotherhood. 
 
 IV The Brotherhood 
 
 One great point of superiority of Buddhism over the 
 religions that preceded it was its monastic organization. The 
 monks devoted their whole time to the study, practise and 
 teaching of the faith. It thus was carefully preserved in the 
 period before it was put into written form. The vows assumed 
 by the monk were understood to be not necessarily for life ; and 
 he was free to leave the order and again become a layman at 
 any time he desired. 
 
 The discipline was not austere. The prescribed dress was the 
 simple yellow robes of the order, and every monk was expected 
 to go with his begging bowl each morning to receive food from 
 those who chose to offer it, and the one simple daily meal was 
 shared by the monks in common. The monks, it must be 
 understood, were not importunate beggars. To give food to 
 one of them was a pious act for a layman, which would gain 
 him merit. In being offered the opportunity to contribute, the 
 layman was afforded a privilege. He was under no obligation 
 
96 BUDDHISM 
 
 or under pressure of any kind, whatever, to give if he did not 
 choose to do so. Monks were forbidden to receive money. The 
 life of the monk, though severely simple, was normal and 
 healthful for persons leading such a life, thus furnishing a 
 favorable contrast to the ascetics of modern Hinduism. 
 
 There was no hierarchy in the Brotherhood. The discipline 
 was chiefly self-imposed. Each had his own salvation to work 
 out for himself. When the brothers gathered together, one of 
 the eldest presided, but he exercised no such powers as a 
 Christian abbot. Public confession was expected, at meetings 
 held for the purpose, of any faults a brother had committed. 
 Such confession was for the strengthening of character. 
 Absolution, of course, is impossible on Buddhist principles ; the 
 law of karma takes its inevitable course. 
 
 Women could join the Sisterhood. This was similarly 
 organized, and was subject to the Brotherhood. Primitive 
 Buddhism, like other religions originating in Asia, did not in 
 its inception place women on quite an equal plane with men. 
 Gautama is said to have been reluctant at first to receive them 
 into his order. Though somewhat prejudiced against women 
 by the traditions of the East, the fundamental democracy of 
 Buddhism is really antagonistic to discriminations based on 
 sex. The oft quoted conversation between Ananda and the 
 Tathagata, in the "Book of the Great Decease" appears simply 
 to contain such good natured and half humorous advice as a 
 wise Christian abbot might smilingly give to a brother who 
 asked his counsel: "How are we to conduct ourselves, Lord, 
 with regard to womankind?" "Don't see them, Ananda." 
 "But if we should see them, what are we to do?" "Abstain from 
 speech, Ananda." "But if they should speak to us, Lord, what 
 are we to do?" "Keep wide awake, Ananda." We may feel confi- 
 dent that, so far as it has exercised any influence either way, the 
 coming of Buddhism has raised rather than lowered the position 
 of women in comparison with what it previously had been. 
 Gautama, like Jesus, was always considerate in his treatment 
 of women. On one occasion he did not even hesitate to accept 
 for himself and the brothers the hospitality of a courtesan, 
 which happened to be offered previous to an invitation for the 
 same day from men of aristocratic rank. 
 
 The rules for the brotherhood are given in detail in the 
 sacred books, and are such as might be expected for a religious 
 order. In Southern Buddhist countries the severitv of these 
 
BUDDHIST HISTORY 97 
 
 rules has now become somewhat relaxed. Wealthy monasteries 
 with generous endowments are not now dependent on contribu- 
 tions collected daily in begging bowls. It is the duty of monks 
 to provide religious instruction for the young, and to deliver 
 discourses, especially on sacred days, to those who care to 
 come to hear them. While very willing to explain their religion, 
 to those who come to them, they have long ceased to be 
 aggressive propagandists. Their reputation is, on the whole, 
 good; but many of them are undoubtedly lazy and ignorant. 
 
 V Events in Buddhist History 
 
 During the centuries immediately following the death of 
 Gautama Siddartha, Buddhism spread rapidly over India. 
 Divisions arose from time to time over various points of 
 doctrine, of the discipline of the Brotherhood, and of the canon 
 of sacred writings. Councils were sometimes held in the 
 endeavor to adjust these disputes. Various sects came into 
 existence. Two main types of Buddhism became differentiated, 
 the Hinayana, or conservative type, which adhered more 
 closely to the primitive faith of Siddartha, and the Mdhayana 
 in which very great modifications took place (as will be noted 
 later). 
 
 The most famous Buddhist king was Asoka, a contemporary 
 of Alexander the Great (about 325 B. C.). Of his reign a 
 Buddhist speaker at the World's Parliament of Religions said : 
 "When Buddhism flourished in India, the arts, sciences and 
 civilization reached their zenith, as witnessed in the edicts and 
 monuments of Asoka's reign. Hospitals were first founded 
 for man and beast. Missionaries were sent to all parts of the 
 world. Literature was encouraged. Wherever Buddhism has 
 gone, the nations have imbibed its spirit, and the people have 
 become gentler and milder. The slaughter of animals and 
 drunkenness ceased, and wars were almost abolished. . . . The 
 monasteries became the seats of learning, and the monks in 
 obedience to their Master's will disseminated knowledge among 
 the people. . . Buddha was the first to establish the brother- 
 hood without distinction of caste and race. . . . The outcast 
 as well as the prince was admitted to this order. Virtue was 
 the passport, not wealth and rank," 6. 
 
 During the reign of Asoka, Buddhism became diffused widely 
 over India, and was introduced into Kashmir and Ceylon. To 
 the latter country was brought a branch of the sacred Bodhi 
 
98 BUDDHISM 
 
 tree under which the Buddha had attained enlightenment. This 
 tree is now over two thousand years old. It has been protected 
 by terraces, and stands twenty feet above the surrounding soil, 
 while pillars of iron and masonry support its outspreading 
 branches. It is carefully watered in times of drought. 
 
 Burma was converted to Buddhism about 450 A. D., Java 
 about 650 A. D., and Siam in the seventh century, A. D. 
 Buddhists of these countries, together with Ceylon, adhere to 
 the Hinayana school. Buddhism persisted in India until as 
 late as the twelfth century, but by that time it had lost the 
 simple purity of the original faith. Monasteries had become 
 wealthy, and held themselves aloof from the people. Buddha 
 had become to the popular mind merely a grinning god, and 
 not so interesting a god as Shiva or Krishma. Buddhist theology 
 had become technically metaphysical. The spirit of the founder 
 had become lost. On the other hand, the gods of Hinduism 
 as we have seen, were "human" and "loving" gods in bad as 
 well as good senses, and would conserve all values, good and 
 bad, for every one. And they would accept the caste system, 
 which had grown up in opposition to the spirit of Buddhism. 
 So Buddhism lost out in India because, while it no longer 
 retained its original simplicity and high moral plane, on the 
 other hand, in spite of its decadence, it still maintained moral 
 distinctions and opposed caste. It was no longer good and 
 pure enough to save India, nor depraved enough to be popular. 
 
 In the meantime, however, the Mahayana development had 
 taken place in India, and had been transmitted, as well as the 
 rival Hinayana faith, to China during the first four centuries 
 of the Christian era, had reached Korea by 372 A. D., and 
 Japan by 552 A. D. Mahayana Buddhism passed through an 
 extraordinary development into Lamaism in Thibet during the 
 ninth century. 
 
 VI Merits and Defects of Primitive and Southern 
 Buddhism 
 
 On the positive side, primitive Buddhism is noteworthy in 
 keeping morality foremost. Righteousness of conduct is what 
 the Buddha chiefly emphasized in talking to laymen. That is 
 more important than the details of the new faith itself. 
 Admirers of Buddhism claim that no other religion in the history 
 of the world has ever so completely kept the ethical note to the 
 forefront in its popular appeals. Personal responsibility for 
 
MERITS AND DEFECTS 99 
 
 one's own actions is basic in the doctrine of karma, as well as 
 the fundamental righteousness of natural law. Self reliance 
 is imperative in a faith that makes no room for the goodness 
 or love of god or saint to take the place of one's own lack 
 of virtue. The ritualism, magic, formalism, and various super- 
 stitions, of which even philosophical Brahmanism was unable 
 to purge itself entirely, are all done away with even for the 
 laymen. For the monk, there was too much otherworldliness, 
 to be sure ; but the discipline was simple, not given to austerities, 
 with its main emphasis on consecrated living and pure thinking. 
 
 So we may say that early Buddhism endeavored to conserve 
 by religious means the highest moral values, and these exclu- 
 sively. The only rewards it offered were the calmness and 
 serenity of mind and freedom from sorrow that attend virtuous 
 living in this life, and the assurance for the life to come either 
 of a more favorable rebirth, or of eternal blessedness in 
 Nirvana. 
 
 The chief moral limitation in early Buddhism, the author 
 thinks, is that there is not enough emphasis on social service. 
 The very fact that every one must work out his own salvation 
 unaided tends to make men more or less absorbed in the cultiva- 
 tion of their own characters. While early Buddhist teaching 
 exhorts one to fill the whole world with love, and to be kind 
 and gentle to everybody, it puts no such emphasis on the active 
 service of mankind as is found in Christian and Jewish 
 teaching. To be sure, Gautama's own life was completely 
 devoted to the service of others ; and for the first centuries of 
 its history, Buddhism was active in works of humanitarianism 
 and progress at home, and in missionary zeal abroad as is 
 instanced by the achievements of the reign of Asoka and also 
 the service of Buddhism rendered Japan in giving it its start 
 in civilization (just as Christianity brought civilization to the 
 Franks, Saxons, Goths, et. aZ.). 
 
 But even in its purer Southern forms, Buddhism has long 
 ceased to be notably active in missionary effort or social reform. 
 The ethical emphasis, too, is somewhat lessened. In Burmah, 
 more merit can apparently be gained in the interest of a 
 favorable rebirth by erecting a praying-platform than by 
 acts of more social utility such as the erection of hospitals and 
 schools. "The whole of Burmah abounds with the pious 
 erections of its sons and daughters. Quite unexampled is the 
 pomp that reigns in such religious centers as Rangoon, 
 
100 BUDDHISM 
 
 Mandalay and old Pegue. Shwe Dagon, the golden pagoda of 
 Rangoon, has not its like for splendor in the world, and many 
 a Burman joyously starves himself his life long in order to be 
 able to erect a new praying-hall upon its sacred platform," 7. 
 
 VII Mahayana Buddhism 
 
 That others before him had from time to time discovered the 
 way to salvation, and that, in future ages, whenever the faith 
 shall become dimmed and obscured, another Buddha will appear 
 and start again the wheel of salvation revolving through the 
 world, was probably believed by Gautama Siddartha himself. At 
 any rate, it soon became the belief of the early church. From 
 this it was only another step to reject as the most worthy goal 
 of human endeavor the endeavor to seek ultimately to become 
 an Arahat (saint) and enter Nirvana by oneself. That is only 
 the "little road" (Hinayana) as the innovators contemptuously 
 called it. There have been many who have not been content 
 in this way quietly to pass out of finite existence into Nirvana. 
 They have sought the "great road" (Mahay ana), and have 
 chosen out of love for their fellow beings and desire to serve 
 them, to remain incarnate until the time and opportunity may 
 come to them also to become Buddhas and gloriously serve all 
 living beings. Those who have thus qualified themselves to become 
 "future Buddhas" (Bohdisattvas), instead of having the 
 dispassionateness and aloofness of Ardhats are inspired by an 
 active sympathy with suffering and a desire to be of service. 
 Northern temples contain images of many Bohdisattvas, and 
 they are worshipped much as the gods of polytheism, and for 
 other values than merely spiritual culture. It even became 
 possible for old Indian gods to be worshipped by Mahayanists 
 as Bohdisattvas. Moreover, merit gained by the good works 
 of a Bohdisattva may be by him transferred to the credit of his 
 worshippers, out of his love and compassion for them, a 
 setting aside of the law of karma. In practice this has become 
 subject to the same abuses as in later medieval Latin 
 Christianity; "masses" for the dead are said by the priests 
 for money; and the credulity of the laity is exploited to the 
 profit of the clergy. 
 
 Another alteration in the early faith made by the Mahayana 
 was in its conception of the Buddha. This man whose own 
 claims for himself were so simple, and who, according to a 
 conversation in the "Book of the Great Decease" checked the 
 
MAHAYANA 101 
 
 ardor of a disciple who wished to give him too exalted a 
 character, was claimed to be superhuman in intellectual and 
 moral perfections. Along with the now practically deified 
 Buddha, the Doctrine and the Brotherhood also became 
 personified as gods and were represented in the temples by 
 statues. 
 
 In respect to ceremonial and ecclesiastical organization, the 
 nearest counterpart to medieval Latin Christianity is found 
 in Thibet. On its entrance to this land, Buddhism had to 
 assimilate folk still in the savage state, addicted to magic and 
 charms, a problem similar to that which confronted Christianity 
 when it had to adapt itself to the requirements of the northern 
 barbarians. In the religious ceremonial of Thibet are to be 
 found shaven priests, bells, rosaries, images, pictures, holy 
 water, gorgeous vestments, double choirs, processions, creeds, 
 mystic rites, incense, abbots, monies, nuns, worship of the 
 Virgin, saints, angels, fasts, confessions, Purgatory, all in 
 huge monasteries and magnificent cathedrals under the direc- 
 tion of a priestly hierarchy governed by cardinals and the 
 Grand Lama (the latter believed to be the human incarnation 
 of a Bodhisattva). Endless repetition in a mechanical way 
 of sacred formulae is thought to be efficacious. Prayers are 
 attached to a wheel or printed upon a flag ; as the wheel rotates 
 or the flag is unfurled by the wind the same effects ensue as 
 if the prayer were repeated by a worshipper. This of course 
 is crude magic, devoid of any genuine spirituality. 
 
 Another respect in which the development of Mahayana 
 Buddhism is analogous to Christian developments, is in its 
 conception of the incarnation of the Buddha. The Doctrine, 
 or Body of the Law (Dharmakaya) came to be thought of as 
 eternal. What Buddhas do is to discover it and proclaim it 
 to men. The Law itself accordingly became a personified God 
 who looks with pity and compassion upon suffering mankind, 
 and from time to time becomes incarnated as a Buddha. There 
 is 'a slight similarity here to the eternal Logos of the ancient 
 Catholic church, who became incarnate as Jesus, and now 
 reigns in heaven as the triumphant Christ. The parallel is by 
 no means complete. This Buddhist corruption is more similar 
 to the Vishnu-Krishna form of Hinduism, with which it may 
 have developed in competition, than to anything Christian. 
 
102 BUDDHISM 
 
 VIII Buddhism in China and Japan 
 
 Not only has Mahayana Buddhism furnished interesting 
 parallels to Catholic Christianity. Among the various Buddhist 
 sects in China and Japan there are two the Jodo and the 
 Shin which remind one in some respects of Protestantism. 
 Amida Buddha, according to these sects, out of love and com- 
 passion for mankind, refused to enter Nirvana, and rules in a 
 heavenly Paradise in the west. He has promised that whosoever 
 calls upon his name in faith, in a prescribed manner shall on 
 his next incarnation be born in this Paradise, where he shall 
 be made perfect, and later reach Nirvana, 8. Neither learning 
 nor contemplation, nor elaborate spiritual exercises are neces- 
 sary, nor the mediation of priestly ritual and ceremonies. 
 Salvation is free to householders as to monks, to women as men. 
 All that is necessary is "faith in the higher power of Amida." 
 When we reflect that these sects arose in protest against earlier 
 Mahayana Buddhism with its salvation based upon works and 
 merit gained through ritualistic ceremonies and the mediation 
 of Bodhisattvas, we can see that as in the case of Lutheranism, 
 the contention is, that there is a divine Saviour, faith in whom, 
 apart from works and churchly intervention, suffices for salva- 
 tion. The worship of Amida by the Shin sect is pure and stern. 
 No one but Amida may be worshipped at all there is none 
 other name under heaven whereby one may b saved, and 
 prayers should not be addressed to him for earthly goods and 
 to escape earthly ills, all of which are subject to the law of 
 Karma (or natural law, as we might say). But prayers of 
 thanksgiving should be addressed to him in gratitude for the 
 eternal salvation he has freely afforded to mankind. 
 
 Another parallel to Christianity is found in the development 
 in Japan of Bushido, a system of conduct which became the 
 ideal of the aristocratic military class. Buddhism, like 
 Christianity, had originally been a peace loving religion, utterly 
 hostile to warfare and military ideals. But, just as Chris- 
 tianity, when it had the northern barbarians to tame, finding 
 it impossible to induce them to abandon warfare altogether, 
 compromised by means of the institution of chivalry, through 
 which the knight came to feel sacred obligations, so Japanese 
 warriors became tamed and refined by Bushido, the ideal of 
 knightly behaviour. 
 
 For the masses Buddhism in Japan is a polytheism. In the 
 temples are images to Amida Buddha (or Amitabha) ; 
 
CHINA AND JAPAN 103 
 
 Kwannon, the goddess of Mercy; Binzuru, the divine healer; 
 Emma-sama, the king of hell; Jizo, protector of children; and 
 the seven gods of good fortune. "The gorgeous vestments of 
 the priests, the solemn intonation of the service, the clouds of 
 incense in the dimly lighted sanctuary, have reminded many 
 observers of the services in a Christian cathedral." "In all 
 Japanese homes, except those of adherents of the most 
 reactionary Shinto sects, there is a Buddha shelf, on which 
 stand little shrines, often richly ornamented in lacquer, of Bud- 
 dhist gods ; the tablets bearing the posthumous names of the 
 deceased members of the family stand on the same shelf ; offer- 
 ings of food and incense are made before them," 9. 
 
 One peculiarity of the religious situation in China, Korea 
 and Japan is that there is nothing to prevent a layman from 
 adhering more or less to several religions. He may go, as 
 he pleases, to make offerings and seek divine assistance from 
 Buddhist, Taoist, Confucian and Shinto sources. He may 
 seek the conservation of his values through whatever combina- 
 tion of agencies he prefers. 
 
 Among the various Buddhist countries the impact of West- 
 ern civilization ard the competition of Christian missions have 
 done most to arouse the Buddhism of Japan to activity, especi- 
 ally in the Shin sect. Priests have travelled to Europe and 
 America and got Western ideas. Buddhist services are now 
 conducted in the army, in factories, and among the poor. 
 Buddhists are establishing orphan asylums, deaf and dumb 
 schools, free hospitals, prisoners' aid societies, and free lodging 
 houses. Prison preaching in Japan is mostly done by Bud- 
 dhists. Schools of all sorts are being established, especially 
 for girls and women, who had been neglected. Buddhists are 
 issuing a great deal of printed literature; almost one-half 
 of the pamphlets of various sorts published in the Japanese 
 empire are Buddhist in tone. Young Japanese students return- 
 ing from the Occident are showing the value of the historical 
 study of Buddhism. Buddhists are imitating Christian 
 methods. There is a "Buddhist Endeavor Society" and a 
 "Young Men's Buddhist Association." Some well known Chris- 
 tian hymns are found readily adaptable to Buddhist worship : 
 "O for a thousand tongues to sing, My holy Buddha's name." 
 Foreign missionary effort has been engaged in, and Buddhist 
 missionaries have been sent to China, Korea, Siberia, Thibet, 
 the Malay Peninsula, Hawaii, and the United States. 
 
104 BUDDHISM 
 
 Says Professor Takakusu: "The question whether Bud- 
 dhism, in a new form, will arise and be welcomed by an ever ad- 
 vancing people whose souls still call for the truth, is yet 
 unsolved. But one thing is certain : Whilst the Buddhism of the 
 continent [of Asia] is dead, the Buddhism of Japan still lives, 
 though somewhat weakened, and if this ancient religion is to 
 come forth into the arena of the twentieth century with fresh 
 vigor and activity, and preach new glad-tidings to the world, 
 it will not be the Buddhism of India, but that of Japan, that 
 will bring this about," 10. 
 
 Because Buddhism to-day everywhere in the world appears 
 to be in a state of decline, it does not follow necessarily that 
 it is incapable of resuscitation. There have been periods in the 
 history of Christianity at the beginning of the sixteenth 
 century for instance when nowhere in the entire earth did any 
 considerable body of Christians show great spirituality or in- 
 ward force. In such periods a contemporary might have judged 
 Christianity to be a hopelessly decadent religion. It is the 
 belief of Buddhists that from time to time, when the faith has 
 begun to wane, a new Buddha appears to restore it. The 
 name of the next Buddha to appear will be Maitreya Buddha. 
 He surely ought not to delay his coming ! 
 
 IX Buddhism and Christianity 
 
 Mahayana Buddhism has evidently sought to conserve a 
 wider range of human values than primitive Buddhism; and, 
 like most other religions, it has sought to do this through 
 the agency of 'personal, loving gods. The values of active 
 sympathy and service of fellow beings are more recognized. 
 Intimate relations with personal gods are made possible. In 
 these modifications the single minded ethical sincerity and 
 straightforwardness of the early faith have been obscured, 
 magical and animistic corruptions have crept in, and exploita- 
 tion of the populace by a greedy clergy has taken place, espe- 
 cially in Thibet. In comparison with the primitive faith, Maha- 
 yana Buddhism seems to have gained as much as it has lost only 
 in the case of the Shin sect in China and Japan. The beliefs 
 and practices of this sect are similar in many respects to 
 Christianity, especially of the Protestant type. The history of 
 Mahayana Buddhism is instructive to the western student in 
 indicating how similar conditions have to some extent produced 
 
BUDDHISM AND CHRISTIANITY 105 
 
 parallel results in the evolution of Buddhism and Christianity, 
 under circumstances where neither faith could have been mea- 
 surably influenced by the other in its development. However, 
 for its philosophical interest and value, the beginner, at least, 
 has more to learn from the forms of Buddhism that have 
 adhered most closely to Gautama Siddartha. 
 
 In all that concerns the Agency and means by which values 
 are sought to be conserved, the most suggestive points of con- 
 trast to Christianity are furnished by primitive Buddhism, 
 with its law of Karma, its world view that at the same time 
 is in a sense atheistic and yet moral and teleological ; with its 
 emphasis on self-sufficiency in attaining 1 salvation, neverthe- 
 less accompanied by attacks on selfishness and individuality; 
 with its complete and generous tolerance of other religions with- 
 out allowing itself to be corrupted by them ; with the totally dif- 
 ferent significance it attached to its historic Founder. These 
 points of contrast are in the highest degree suggestive and 
 instructive. 
 
 In respect to the values recognized, the ordinary virtues of 
 daily civilized life are inculcated in the first five command- 
 ments, much as they are in Christianity. Siddartha and Jesus 
 both insist on an ethical change of heart or regeneration upon 
 the part of the convert. Both insist upon the purity of inward 
 motives; as is instanced by the Buddhist portrayal of the 
 true Brahmin and the Christian Sermon on the Mount. The 
 stand taken over two thousand years ago by Siddartha against 
 the use of alcoholic intoxicants has only been reached by 
 portions of the Christian church within very recent times. Both 
 religions* enjoin gentleness, love and forgiveness. The more 
 positive value of active social service is less clearly recognized 
 by primitive Buddhism. Its view of Nirvana is quite different 
 from traditional Christian conceptions of the future life. 
 Superior though the Buddhist organization was to any that 
 existed at the time of its origin, it is decidedly inferior in its 
 coherence and effectiveness to the Christian church. The Bud- 
 dhist Brotherhood is only an order of monks after all, without 
 a sufficiently organic relation to the laymen. As a bond uniting 
 all the adherents of the faith into a common fellowship it cannot 
 be compared to the churches to whom Paul wrote his epistles. 
 
 Are there any respects in which Buddhism may be claimed to 
 be superior to Christianity? Admirers of Buddhism claim 
 its superiority upon several points. (1) They argue that the 
 
106 BUDDHISM 
 
 place of the Founder of Buddhism rests solely on the intrinsic 
 worth of his message verified in the reason and experience of 
 his followers. It does not rest upon pretentiously supernatural 
 claims based upon miracles and the fulfilment of prohecies, 
 claims that in the case of Christianity have been exploded by 
 the advance of natural and historical science. In reply to 
 this, the liberal Christian might say that for him, at least, the 
 value of Jesus does not rest upon such claims, but upon 
 Christian experience. Liberal Christianity, like liberal Bud- 
 dhism, has been purged of such elements. (2) The advocates 
 of Buddhism claim that throughout its history it has nearly 
 always been tolerant and kind in its treatment- of other faiths, 
 while the opposite has been true of Christianity. Until very 
 recent times, Christians constantly persecuted Jews, Moslems, 
 and even Christians of other sects than their own. In reply, 
 the Christian will have to admit this shameful blot upon the 
 history of Christianity. But he can urge that the past few 
 centuries prove that Western Christianity, at least, in both 
 Catholic and Protestant forms, has at last learned the lesson 
 of tolerance, and that the western Christian of today is not 
 inferior in this respect to the Buddhist of today. (3) A similar 
 reply can be made, at least by most American Christians, to 
 the claim that Buddhism has taken a more consistent stand 
 against the evils of alcoholic intemperance. (4) The advocate 
 of Southern Buddhism urges that the Buddhist who has kept 
 true to the primitive faith has been taught to be self-reliant 
 and to seek honestly to work out his own salvation, instead of 
 fancying that he can shirk responsibility for his own wrong 
 doing through the merits of some one else (Christ, or, in the 
 case of Catholicism, Christ and the saints). The Christian 
 might reply, that this insistence on self-reliance has not on the 
 whole kept the ethical note consistently uppermost in the 
 case of even Southern Buddhism, in which the building of 
 praying platforms has sometimes been regarded as a substi- 
 tute for genuine goodness of character. Furthermore, the 
 inspiration that Christians have gained from believing that the 
 love of Christ can transform human lives has been abundantly 
 warranted by the facts, and is a valuable feature of the Chris- 
 tian faith. Mahayana Buddhism in some of its forms has 
 pathetically endeavored to gain something imperfectly approxi- 
 mating the Christian atonement. 
 
 So far as the author is able to judge, there are no points 
 
107 
 
 in which the most enlightened Buddhism of today can claim 
 to be superior to the most enlightened Christianity of today. 
 On the other hand, in the conception of the atonement, in its 
 greater emphasis on social service, and in its longer experience 
 with the moral problems of western civilization, present-day 
 Christianity has gained many points of superiority to present- 
 day Buddhism, and is far more competent to assist in securing 
 for the twentieth century the conservation of its socially 
 recognized values. Either Buddhists of Asiatic countries must 
 learn these lessons from Christianity, if they can, or else expect 
 that their religion, even in these lands, must ultimately be sup- 
 planted by Christianity. And there is no reason on earth why 
 any occidental Christian should become a Buddhist, although 
 everyone should respect Buddhism, present and past, for its 
 many points of excellence. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 Subhadra Bhikshu A Buddhist Catechism. 
 
 E. W. Hopkins, The History of Religion, Chapters XII, XVI. 
 
 E. W. Hopkins, The Religions of India, Chapter XIII. 
 
 G. F. Moore History of "Religions, Vol. 1, Chapters V, VII, XII. 
 
 George A. Barton, The Religions of the World, pages 158-175; 217-222; 
 23 -237. 
 
 L. T. Hobhouse Morals in Evolution, Part II, Chapter II. 
 
 J. B. Pratt, The Psychology of Religious Belief, Chapter IV. 
 
 J. B. Pratt, India and Its 'Faiths, Chapters XVI-XIX. 
 
 T. W. Rhys Davids, Indian Buddhism, Hibbert Lectures, 1891. 
 Buddhist Texts, translated in Sacred Books of the East, vols. X, XIII, 
 XVII, XX, XXI, XXXV, XXXVI, XLIX, and especially * XI (con- 
 taining the Book of the Great Decease, and the sermon at Benares, both 
 translated by Rhys Davids). 
 
 * I. O. Nitobe, Bushido. 
 
 * Count Okuma, (editor) Fifty Years of New Japan. 
 D. T. Suzuki, Outlines of Mahayana Buddhism. 
 
 A. K. Reischauer, Studies in Japanese Buddhism. 
 Paul Dahlke, Buddhist Essays. 
 Paul Dahlke, Buddhism and Science. 
 
 * Edwin Arnold, The Light of Asia. 
 L. de la Vallee Poussin, Bouddhisme. 
 
 Articles in Hasting's Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics. 
 CHARLES ELIOT, Hinduism and Buddhism, 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 GREECE AND ROME 
 
 I Introduction 
 
 WHILE the ancient Greeks and Romans were peoples of differ- 
 ent racial genius, their religious histories, notwithstanding 
 noteworthy contrasts, present many points in agreement. These 
 common points are those of chief concern to us in the study 
 of religion as an endeavor to secure the conservation of socially 
 recognized values. 
 
 Among both Greeks and Romans, religious endeavor, so far 
 as it ever became really effectual, was a function of the family 
 and the city state. It conserved the values of these institutions, 
 and was chiefly of aid to the individual in relation to them. 
 Thus subordinated, religion did not develop as an independent 
 institution. Religious worship never became centralized. Each 
 local shrine had its own ritual, handed down by tradition from 
 one priest to his successor. The priesthood never became a 
 special professional class like the Brahmins. No great order 
 like the Buddhist brotherhood arose. There were no sacred 
 books like the Vedas, and no authoritative body of doctrine. 
 
 The Greeks and Romans were brilliantly successful in their 
 religious evolution up to a certain point, beyond which they 
 were unable to advance. They succeeded so long as their 
 problem was the conservation of the social and moral values 
 of their earlier life, chiefly concerned with the family and 
 the city state. This conservation could be effected through 
 the agency of deities conceived in anthropomorphic terms, i. e., 
 in the forms of idealized men and women. The Olvmpian gods 
 and goddesses of the Greeks are the most splendid anthropo- 
 morphic deities that the mind of man has ever produced. But 
 the problems of associated life presently became complex and 
 irreducible to the simpler conceptions of life in the earlier 
 family and city state; individuals came to feel spiritual 
 needs too profound to be conserved through anthropomorphic 
 gods and goddesses, no matter how lovely in aesthetic form. 
 The old pagan religions of Greece and Rome were unable to 
 
 108 
 
FAMILY RELIGION 109 
 
 meet these problems, and collapsed. Their failure was chiefly 
 due to their lack of a satisfactory Agency for the conservation 
 of their higher values. Christianity triumphed over paganism 
 because it was able to provide this needed Agency of God who is 
 revealed in Christ, and who is made available through the medium 
 of an independent institution, the Church. The Greek under- 
 standing of moral values, on the other hand, was profound and 
 has contributed much on this side to modern culture. The 
 Greeks knew how to analyze and to describe moral principles ; 
 they failed to find a satisfactory religious Agency through 
 which to conserve them. 
 
 II Family Religion 
 
 An important feature of the life of the early Greek home was 
 the worship of the hearth and the fire upon it. This fire was 
 kept perpetually burning; it was thought to be alive. Food 
 was offered to it, and the fact that the fire grew in size when 
 consuming the food indicated that the latter was acceptable. 
 The fire stood for cleanliness. Nothing damp nor dirty might 
 be put on it, nothing unclean brought into its presence. In 
 time, the values conserved by the sacred fire came to include 
 the moral purity of the home. The conservation of moral 
 purity required a personal deity, and thus arose the idea of a 
 goddess of the hearth, Hestia, a beautiful virgin, who stood for 
 moral purity, and protected domestic relations. Later, as 
 the tendency grew to group all the chief deities in one family, 
 Hestia became the daughter of Zeus the supreme God. He 
 too, became a protector of the hearth, as well as his wife Hera. 
 The marriage of the highest god and goddess became symbolical 
 of all marriage, which was regarded as sacred and holy, and 
 probably as sacramental, 1. The altar of Hestia stood in 
 the main room of the house. Just outside the door, as one 
 entered the house, stood the altar of Apollo, the Guardian 
 (against plague and other disasters). The gods of property, 
 good fortune, and trade, as well as the patron god of the city 
 state, were likely to be worshipped in the home, 2. There were 
 impressive ceremonies connected with the important events of 
 family life such as marriage, birth and death. 
 
 Each family had its own tomb, where ancestors were buried, 
 and offerings regularly paid and prayers addressed. This 
 tomb, Euripides says, was generally near the house "in order 
 that the sons, in entering and leaving their dwelling, might 
 
110 GREECE AND ROME 
 
 always meet their fathers, and might always address them 
 an invocation," 3. The ghosts of the departed were believed to 
 be still living and lovins: members of the family, and it was 
 often thought to be a duty to marry and to leave posterity to 
 continue the ancestral worship. The Erinyes were spirits who 
 inflicted merciless vengeance on those guilty of shedding the 
 blood of their kindred. 
 
 Among the Romans, Vesta was the central figure in the wor- 
 ship of the home. The family was also protected by various 
 spirits, the penates (originally guardians of the store room), 
 the lares (perhaps originally spirits protecting the farm) and 
 the Genius, or guardian soul, of the head of the house. Ances- 
 tral worship was also important, 4. 
 
 Greek and Roman family religion was highly successful in 
 binding the members of the family together in fraternal and 
 filial devotion to one another, and to the family traditions. It 
 strengthened and preserved the ties of the home. Professor 
 Farnell says of the Greeks : "Probably no people has ever felt 
 with greater fervour the sacredness of the bond between brother 
 and sister, parent and child, the reverence due to the mother 
 no less than to the father," 5. The vitality of the religion of the 
 family, he says, persisted after other forms of religion had 
 passed into decay, clear down to the final extinction of pag- 
 anism. 
 
 Ill The Religion of the Greek City State 
 
 Early Greek settlements ultimately grew into cities, which 
 became the religious as well as the commercial centers of the 
 adjacent country and of dependent colonies. Greece in the 
 time of its greatest glory consisted of a number of such city 
 states. The individual felt deep loyalty and devotion to his 
 city. He was chiefly aware of his moral and religious obliga- 
 tions and privileges in relation to it. The modern man is 
 likely to feel a certain pride in the city of his birth, patriotic 
 devotion to his native land, and reverent loyalty to the God 
 and church of his fathers. To the Greek such pride, devotion 
 and loyalty were all directed toward one object, the city 
 state. The city was the political, intellectual and commercial 
 center of his fatherland, and it maintained the worship of the 
 temples for the common good. 
 
 In other religions, adolescents experience some kind of 
 spiritual awakening and are initiated or confirmed into the 
 
THE CITY STATE 111 
 
 faith of their fathers. Greek and Roman youth at this age 
 were solemnly received into citizenship with religious rites, 6. 
 Religious awakening with them was a conscious consecration 
 to the service of the state. Loyalty to the city naturally grew 
 out of loyalty to one's family, because the city "with all its 
 various and often heterogeneous elements, was regarded as one 
 family," 7. 
 
 Much of the civic ritual was derived from the household. In 
 the ancient Attic feast of the Dipolia, the festival of Zeus the 
 city-god, the citizens partook of the sacred flesh of the sacri- 
 ficed ox, typical of a sacramental family meal. As there was 
 a sacred fire in each home which conserved the life and wel- 
 fare of the family, so a perpetual fire was maintained in the 
 town hall before the statue of Hestia, and on this the continuous 
 life of the state depended. When a threatened state consulted 
 the oracle at Delphi, the god was likely to enjoin faithful 
 and zealous maintenance of the traditional rites in honor of 
 the ancestral ghosts. 
 
 The Greek city state employed religion in the endeavor to 
 conserve all of its values. Law courts and market places, 
 council chamber and town hall were consecrated, and under the 
 protection of deities. "Important acts of State were accom- 
 panied by sacrifice; the religious oath was administered to 
 magistrates, jurymen and other officials; the admission of 
 youth into the ranks of the citizens was a religious ceremony," 8. 
 The incorporation of a small community into a larger state 
 required religious rites. Oracles were always consulted in 
 crises, and whenever an important political decision had to be 
 made. There was always an imposing temple to the deity 
 (usually Zeus, but in the case of Athens, Pallas Athene) who 
 had the city state under special protection, and splendid festi- 
 vals, processions and feasts were celebrated in his honor. The 
 public worship of all the other deities who conserved values of 
 socially recognized importance was faithfully maintained. 
 Athens and other Greek cities were thronged with altars, 
 shrines and temples. 
 
 The city state also made provision for the worship of 
 lesser supernatural beings. Heroes were men, who according to 
 tradition had founded cities or families, or done great deeds. 
 Their bones were carefully preserved, and were revered at their 
 tombs. A hero was usually worshipped exclusively in some 
 particular locality of which he was thought to be a patron. 
 
GREECE AND ROME 
 
 The Christian saints whoi*ultimately replaced these local heroes, 
 to this day conserve much the same values for the populations 
 of village communities in Mediterranean lands. There was 
 a large variety of malignant spirits, Keres, who needed to be 
 placated. In Athens, for instance, during a three days festi- 
 val in the spring, food and wine were offered to disturbing 
 ghosts in order to induce them to depart peaceably from the 
 city. Similarly there were harvest festivals whose purpose 
 was to attract troublesome spirits out into the country by 
 means of offerings, so that it would be safe to bring in the 
 new grain. Human beings, probably criminals condemned to 
 death, seem at least in early times to have been sacrificed for 
 this purpose. Disease, disaster, old age and death were all 
 attributed to the actions of Keres. The fates, gorgons, sirens, 
 sphinx, harpies and furies were all species of Keres, 9. 
 
 IV The Olympians 
 
 The Olympian deities, whose worship the city states made 
 splendid and beautiful, were an inheritance from earlier times. 
 They were the brilliant achievement of the age that produced 
 the Homeric poems, the ninth and eighth centuries B. C. At 
 a still earlier period the religion of the savage ancestors of 
 the Greeks had been a low form of animism, with brutal and 
 bloody rites. From such crude beginnings there developed, 
 through the agency of the Homeric poems, the Olympian gods 
 and goddesses, the most sublime beings that the mind of 
 man has ever been able to produce, so long as it has continued 
 to think of the divine in anthropomorphic imagery. 
 
 The lays from which the Iliad and Odyssey arose were 
 composed to be recited at the courts of the princes of Ionia, 
 under conditions unusually favorable for the free expression 
 of poetic imagination. The Greeks, then comparatively new 
 comers in Ionia, were there removed from the more fixed tradi- 
 tions of the mother country. So the bard could modify and 
 improve the old tales as he sang them. He could make the 
 stories more artistic, enlarging upon what he could make most 
 pleasing, and leaving out everything that would sound crude 
 and gross to his aristocratic hearers. As his purpose was to 
 entertain, rather than to edify, he gave Greek mythology an 
 aesthetic rather than an ethical form, a characteristic which 
 it always retained. 
 
 The epic poems vividly portray the gods and goddesses as 
 
OLYMPIANS 113 
 
 men and women on a higher scale. They eat, drink and sleep 
 like men. The world is governed by a royal family of which 
 Zeus is head, with a palace on Mount Olympus. His court 
 is much like the courts of the princes to whom the Homeric 
 tales were recited. In it councils and banquets were held, and 
 intrigues of war and love were carried on. Each deity was 
 given a clear cut and striking personality. Zeus, for instance, 
 is "father of gods" and "most exalted of rulers." He con- 
 trols the elements, and at his nod even Mount Olympus trembles. 
 He is very wise and powerful, but by no means omniscient nor 
 omnipotent. The others sometimes outwit him. Hera, his 
 wife, is somewhat of a scold, and Zeus, who is by no means a 
 faithful husband, is rather afraid of her. He is not above 
 craft and deceit when necessary, though he usually is square 
 and honorable in his dealings. Such a god was greater and 
 wiser than the Ionian princes ; they liked and revered him. His 
 morals were as good or better than theirs, and religion had 
 not yet arrived at a strictly ethical stage. There was close- 
 ness of contact and sympathy between men and their gods, 
 and the latter conserved the values of that age by idealizing 
 them. 
 
 As the Homeric poems constituted an important feature of 
 education in later times, and every school boy was made familiar 
 with them, their portraiture of the gods became firmly fixed in 
 the Greek imagination. This was strengthened by art. For 
 instance, when the sculptor Phidias was asked what type 
 he selected for his masterpiece, the statue of Zeus at Olympia, 
 he is said to have replied with Homer's lines : "The son of 
 Cronos spoke and nodded under his dark brows ; and the ambro- 
 sial locks of the king fell down from his immortal head, and 
 he shook great Olympus." Five centuries later the orator Dio 
 Chrysostom said of this statue: "Whoever among mankind is 
 wholly weary in soul, whoever has experienced many misfor- 
 tunes and sorrows in life, and may not find sweet sleep, he, 
 methinks, if he stood before this statue, would forget all the 
 calamities and griefs that come in the life of man." 10. The 
 statues and temples of the gods, made as fine and beautiful as 
 the greatest artists were able to render them, did much to 
 raise the popular conception to the plane of dignity, beauty, 
 moderation and symmetry on which Greek religious ideals stood. 
 
 Professor Gilbert Murray regards the creation of the Olym- 
 pian gods as a great religious reformation. In place of the 
 
114 GREECE AND ROME 
 
 world conceived by earlier periods, "as merely subject to in- 
 cursions of mana snakes and bulls and thunder-stones and mon- 
 sters," it gave the Greek the conception of the world "as gov- 
 erned by an organized body of personal and reasoning rulers, 
 wise and bountiful fathers, like man in mind and shape, only 
 unspeakably higher," 11. It swept away, or at least covered 
 with a decent veil, the gross sexual rites of savagery, and also 
 the superstitions connected with early worship of the dead. It 
 furnished the religious basis for the social order based on the 
 city state. It worked for concord and good will among the 
 different Greek states, by giving them a common religious lit- 
 erature and art. 
 
 Yet the anthropomorphic conception of the gods proved to 
 be incapable of development beyond a certain point. Man is 
 limited in his physical and moral possibilities. When the 
 Greeks clothed their gods with human flesh, and celebrated them 
 in art and literature as magnified human beings, they put a 
 limit to their further religious development. 
 
 V Attempted Reforms by Poets and Philosophers. 
 
 A time came when Greek civilization progressed far beyond 
 its level in Homeric times. Morality advanced with it. Adult- 
 ery, theft, perjury and deceit came to be clearly recognized 
 as sinful for men. It became difficult for the Greeks to con- 
 tinue to revere the gods, and yet to regard them as occasion- 
 ally guilty of conduct that would have been blameworthy in 
 men. The old notions of the gods needed to be revised. Un- 
 worthy tales must be rejected. The gods must become further 
 idealized according to the insight of a more discerning age. 
 
 The great poets of the sixth and fifth centuries attempted this 
 task. Their odes and dramas were presented at the great 
 religious festivals, and must have had considerable publicity 
 and influence. Pindar described the gods as all wise and power- 
 ful, just and'truthful. Men must remember that they are mortal, 
 and avoid insolence and pride. He believed in rewards and 
 punishments both on earth and in a future life. Aeschylus 
 emphasized the divine punishment that follows sin from one 
 generation to another. Sophocles laid stress upon purity of 
 heart and piety ; he believed that the universe is moral through- 
 out. Euripides was more destructive in his criticism of gods, 
 myths, and current religious practises ; he exposed their moral 
 inadequacies and intellectual absurdities. This he doubtless 
 
ATTEMPTED REFORMS 115 
 
 did in the endeavor to give men higher ideals. He constantly 
 raised fundamental problems which set men thinking. But the 
 poets were unable to make a thorough reconstruction of reli- 
 gion. The lineaments of the gods and the tales regarding them 
 did not admit of modification beyond limits, and the poets were 
 not clear in their own minds regarding the details of the reform- 
 ation that they sought. Moreover, they were primarily artists 
 and not religious specialists. 
 
 The philosophers, too, sought to effect changes in religion. 
 At the beginning of the fifth century B. C., Xenophanes had 
 satirized anthropomorphic conceptions. Ethiopians, he pointed 
 out, imagine that the gods have flat noses and swarthy skins, 
 while Thracians give them blue eyes and red hair ; and if cattle 
 and horses had hands, they too, would make gods like them- 
 selves. Men even ascribe moral weaknesses to the gods, 
 theft, adultery and deceit. All this is absurd and wicked. 
 There is but one god in the universe, and he is not like a man. 
 It is not certain whether Xenophanes thought the one god to 
 be identical with the universe (pantheism) or whether he 
 believed this god to be an immanent being in it, who directs and 
 controls it by his thought. His contemporary, Heraclitus, 
 believed that the universe has eternally existed, and that it 
 passes through cycles of evolution subject to universal law or 
 reason (Logos). It is uncertain whether for him the Logos is a 
 god that may be worshipped, or simply impersonal law in the 
 sense of modern physical science. He thoroughly disapproved 
 of the anthropomorphic gods of popular religion. Anaxagoras 
 (f 428 B. C.) worked out a thoroughly mechanical conception 
 of the universe, except that he found it necessary to posit an 
 initial god or mind (Nous) to set the physical elements into 
 motion. Leucippus and Democritus (t370 B. C.) developed the 
 theory of atoms and a complete philosophical materialism. This 
 philosophical movement was more effective in helping to under- 
 mine belief in traditional religion than in providing a substitute 
 for it. 
 
 By the middle of the fifth century, in Athens at least, another 
 movement in philosophy began. In place of speculation about 
 the nature of the physical universe, attention became directed 
 to political and social inquiry, and in general, to the study of 
 man. The Sophists were disposed to reject traditional morals, 
 which previously had been protected by religion as of divine 
 and sacred ancestral origin and authority. Laws and moral- 
 
116 GREECE AND ROME 
 
 ity, according to them, are mere matters of human convention, 
 which may be disregarded whenever it is of advantage to do so. 
 Socrates (f399 B C.) began a more constructive movement. 
 He agreed with the Sophists that morality is subject to revi- 
 sion and criticism, but he maintained that its fundamental prin- 
 ciples stand when thus criticized. Virtue is knowledge ; honest 
 inquiry both teaches what should be done and arouses the desire 
 to do it. Goodness is the health of the soul ; it is better to 
 suffer injustice at the hands of others than to be guilty of 
 it oneself, and it is wrong to return evil for evil. He denounced 
 all views or tales that represented the gods other than wise and 
 good. Probably he believed that there is but one divine being 
 or principle in the universe, who upholds righteousness, but he 
 conformed to customary observances and prayed to the gods 
 like other men. He felt it a duty to accept the decisions of 
 the government of his city as final, and cheerfully submitted 
 to an unjust sentence of death on false charges when he might 
 have escaped by flight. 
 
 This conduct of Socrates and the general tenor of his teach- 
 ings indicate that the conception of the city state was basic 
 in his moral and religious thought. The same was true of 
 his greatest pupil, Plato (f347 B. C.) ; and, in turn, of Plato's 
 pupil, Aristotle (t322 B. C.). For Plato, the virtue of the indi- 
 vidual man is modeled on the plan of justice in the city state; 
 for the state is the individual writ large. In the state there 
 must be wise rulers, courageous defenders, and common citizens 
 who are temperate and obedient. When each class performs its 
 functions faithfully, and all work in harmony, there is justice. 
 Likewise in the individual man. To be governed by reason, to 
 be spirited in action, to exercise self control over passions and 
 appetites, and to combine all in a symmetrical and well ordered 
 life, is to possess the four cardinal virtues of wisdom, courage, 
 temperance, and justice. Aristotle's moral conceptions rest on 
 similar grounds. Man is by nature a political or social animal. 
 Man's virtues as an individual and as a citizen, Aristotle set 
 forth in detail so effectively that his work may be said to 
 form the basis of systematic ethics for subsequent European 
 thought down to the present time. 
 
 For these three greatest of Greek philosophers, the moral 
 values, which they understand and which Plato and Aristotle 
 set forth in systematic form, are conceived in terms of citizen- 
 ship in a free state. They regarded the worship of the gods, 
 
ATTEMPTED REFORMS 117 
 
 properly purified, as a necessary sanction for moral values in 
 such a state. Their philosophical conception of reality and 
 of the universe led them personally to interpretations of the 
 divine that, to say the least, were much less" orthodox; they 
 evidently thought that philosophers might hold whatever religi- 
 ous opinions intellectual speculation led them to accept, that 
 it was their duty to follow- an argument wherever it leads. But 
 public worship must be maintained for the benefit of the citizens 
 of a state, in order to support moral institutions. This was less 
 inconsistent from the ancient point of view than it appears 
 to us. The ancients thought that the essential thing about 
 public religious worship was that the ceremonies go on, and 
 that men at times participate in them. The individual was free 
 to put his private interpretation on them, and to accept or 
 reject whatever myths and doctrines he chose. There were no 
 fixed creeds and dogmas in Greek religion, no infallible Bibles, 
 no Church. 
 
 Constructive in its recognition of moral values as was the 
 work of the philosophers, and inspiring as it was to their com- 
 paratively few students, it failed to find adequate moral and 
 religious sanctions for the life of the citizens. The common 
 man was shrewd enough to know that the philosophers did not 
 believe in morality on traditional grounds. He was aware that 
 they did not believe in the gods of the city in an ordinary 
 sense. That the philosophers advised him to believe in the gods 
 was- under these circumstances hardly persuasive. Anthropo- 
 morphic religion began to break down for him also; it could 
 no longer conserve his moral values. Losing faith in the tradi- 
 tional religion of the state, many became openly skeptical of 
 religion, and in some cases even of moral obligations as well. 
 Some became credulous dupes of various seemingly new religious 
 fads and cults which were in reality saturated with old super- 
 stitutions, just as is often true to-day of whose who forsake 
 traditional Christianity and Judaism. 
 
 The situation became still more serious from the latter part 
 of the* fourth century on, after the city states had lost their 
 vital significance along with their freedom under Alexander the 
 Great and his successors. The problem of the thoughtful man 
 then became, How might he reconstruct his moral and religious 
 beliefs, his recognition of values and of the agency through 
 which he might conserve them, now that he could no longer 
 think them in terms of citizenship in a free state? 
 
118 GREECE AND ROME 
 
 The later philosophers answered this question in different 
 ways. The skeptics said for a man to be wise, he should be 
 as non-committal as possible, believing and trusting nothing 
 and nobody except himself, an attitude of destructive individ- 
 ualism. The Epicureans said that the wise man should lead, 
 so far as he could, a life of refined enjoyment, appreciating the 
 pleasure of a simple and temperate life. He should cultivate 
 friends. The Epicureans adopted the materialism of Demo- 
 critus. From this they said it followed that man need not fear 
 the gods. If such beings exist at all, they lead a joyous life 
 off in some sheltered region, unconcerned about the doings of 
 men. They simply are of value to men for the enjoyment which 
 their depiction in art and literature affords. Epicureanism 
 was of service in combating the recrudescence of debasing and 
 terrifying superstitions that arose with the decline of the reli- 
 gion of the city state. In Rome it became in some measure the 
 creed of liberally and democratically minded men. Julius Caesar, 
 for instance, was an Epicurean, as was also the poet Horace. 
 But the influence of Epicureanism on the whole tended toward 
 the cultivation of a life of refined selfishness, with little regard 
 for serious social obligations and responsibilities. And its doc- 
 trine that pleasure is the highest good was often misinterpreted 
 to sanction a life of sensual indulgence and dissipation. 
 
 The most constructive philosophical movement after the 
 decline of the city state was that of the Stoics. They ex- 
 panded the earlier conceptions of morality and religion that 
 even for Plato and Aristotle had largely been restricted by 
 attachment to the city state, so as to include the universe. 
 Instead of thinking of oneself as a citizen of Athens or Sparta, 
 one should think of oneself as a citizen of the world. For the 
 whole world is one great city of gods and men. In theory, at 
 least, it follows that all men are equal by natural right ; by 
 nature there is no just distinction in rights between Greeks and 
 barbarians, slaves and free, men and women. These Stoic con- 
 ceptions of "natural right" and the "law of nature" ultimately 
 passed over into Roman law and tradition. They were revived 
 in modern times in the struggle for individual and national 
 freedom that began with the Renaissance, and we owe much 
 to the Stoics for the origin of conceptions of liberty that have 
 become basic in modern constitutions, laws, and public opinion. 
 Not only did the Stoics do much to widen the extension of 
 moral rights and duties so as to make them include all men. 
 
GREEK MYSTERIES 119 
 
 They also sought to conserve these values through religion. 
 They spiritualized the Logos doctrine of Heraclitus and taught 
 that there is one God who pervades all the universe, and whom 
 all men may regard as Father. They attacked the problem 
 how there can be evil in a world subject to an all wise Provid- 
 ence, and they worked out most of the answers offered by 
 theists to-day: much that from our limited point of view 
 appears evil is good from the standpoint of the whole as 
 perceived by God ; physical evils are necessary for the discipline 
 of human character; moral evil they explained by saying that 
 if man is free, he is bound to sin ; that without evil there could 
 be no good ; and so on. The chief good for man is a life in 
 accordance with nature, which means in accordance with the 
 divine principle of nature, that is, God. They felt the need 
 of an ideal historical person who might serve as a model for 
 men to imitate, and made much of Socrates, and other virtuous 
 men for this purpose. The Stoics did not condemn the 
 worship of the gods of popular religion, but sought to interpret 
 them allegorically ; they sometimes said that they were names 
 given to the one God as he is manifested in the different depart- 
 ments of nature, Zeus in the ether, Hera in the air, Poseidon 
 in the sea, and Demeter in the earth. Stoic philosophers went 
 about preaching their philosophy as a religion, and they were 
 listened to respectfully by educated people. The employment 
 of the sermon, tract, and epistle have been said to have been 
 suggested to early Christianity by Stoicism. 
 
 VI The Greek Mystery Religions 
 
 Even in classical times the religion- of the family and city 
 state had not seemed sufficient to everyone. Many had felt the 
 need of closer personal intimacy with the divine, as a reinforce- 
 ment in the struggles for higher values in this life, and as an 
 assurance of a blessed immortality after death. Attempts to 
 meet these needs were made by the various mysteries, cults into 
 which those who desired might be initiated. The first and 
 crudest of these was the worship of Dionysus (Bacchus), the 
 Thracian god of the grape and of wine, which became popular 
 as early as the sixth century B. C. The worshippers gathered 
 in secret meetings where they dramatically presented the 
 mythical events in the life of the god, and engaged in eating and 
 drinking. The mysteries of Orpheus are supposed by some 
 to have been the result of a reform movement within the 
 
120 GREECE AND ROME 
 
 Dionysiac cult. In these the divine presence was identified with 
 the heightening of a consciousness afforded by aesthetic pleas- 
 ures, especially music, a great advance in spirituality over 
 alcoholic stimulation. The Orphic movement was spread by 
 missionaries and gathered its converts into societies, which 
 celebrated initiatory rites and sacraments, and were guided by 
 inspired scriptures. It was, in its way, a religion of redemption, 
 offering a more spiritual life to its adherents, through their 
 worship of the god who would sustain and support them by 
 his presence within them, and afford to them a share in his 
 immortality. The Dionysiac and Orphic societies were inde- 
 pendent of state control. 
 
 The mysteries of Eleusis, on the contrary, were a recognized 
 part of the established religion of the Athenian city state. 
 They made use of the myth that Persephone, the daughter of 
 Demeter, had been snatched away and taken down into Hades, 
 from whence, as a result of her mother's efforts she was 
 permitted to return to earth with the awakening life of the 
 spring. Those who were initiated into this worship, were 
 assured a participation in her resurrection and immortality. 
 These mysteries, under state regulation, were freer from 
 excesses than those of Dionysus and Orpheus. For the same 
 reason, it was longer before they admitted any but Athenian 
 citizens, but in the course of time, they became open to all 
 Greeks, and finally to Romans. 
 
 The mystery religions, being more emotional in character, 
 had a wider appeal than Stoic philosophy. On the other hand, 
 their moral and spiritual tone was much lower. Prior to their 
 conquest by the Romans, therefore, the Greeks must be said on 
 the whole to have failed to find a way to conserve on a high 
 moral plane, personal values, like a warm consciousness of 
 divine presence and hope for immortality, through religious 
 worship. 
 
 VII Religion in the Roman Republic 
 
 The life of the ancestors of the Romans was pastoral and 
 agricultural. When the little city state of Rome began its 
 career, it adopted prescribed forms of worship for the conser- 
 vation of its values, and established the requisite shrines, 
 festivals, priesthoods and rituals. The early kings exercised 
 some priestly functions themselves and appointed priests to 
 attend to the rest. When the republic was established a 
 
THE ROMAN REPUBLIC 121 
 
 pontifical college was appointed to look after these matters. 
 The Roman conception of religion was unimaginative and 
 thoroughly practical. Whenever a value was seen to require 
 religious conservation, the appropriate gods and rites were 
 determined, and what was believed requisite was carefully 
 carried out. Little time was wasted in speculation about the 
 nature of any of the gods, whether in the form of myth or 
 philosophy, and the early Roman gods remained shadowy 
 numena. They were by no means clearly defined anthropo- 
 morphic deities like those of Greece. Religion, however, was 
 simple, straightforward, comparatively free from savage 
 grossness, and it effectively conserved the simple and stern 
 virtue of the times. Roman family worship and the religious 
 side of the induction of Roman youth into citizenship have 
 already been noticed. 
 
 As the Roman state expanded and the other states in Italy 
 became successively incorporated within it, the Roman state 
 took over such of their deities, ceremonies and priesthoods as 
 seemed necessary to conserve the newly acquired territory and 
 population for the Romans. Such religious worship was 
 continued in the name of the Roman people, either on the 
 conquered territory or transferred to Rome itself. Southern 
 Italy was Greek in culture and religion, and when this region 
 was conquered by the Romans, the latter came into contact with 
 the Greek gods. The worship of these was gradually adopted 
 in Rome, and in many cases Greek gods were identified with old 
 Roman deities who thus took on the anthropomorphic charac- 
 teristics of the Olympians. The Greek conceptions were so 
 much richer in every way that they gradually supplanted the 
 few notions the Romans originally had regarding the gods. 
 In times of distress plague, famine, threatened war, or 
 strange portents it was decided what new deity and ritual 
 should be imported in order to avert disaster and promote the 
 public welfare. This process continued throughout pagan 
 times, and deities and rites from all over the world became 
 established in Rome. 
 
 In the case of the Romans, no less than of the Greeks, the 
 religion of the city state ultimately gave way. Though Rome 
 conquered the world, instead of being subdued by a foreign 
 power, her republican institutions broke down in the process 
 of expansion. The citizens lost their freedom. Morality and 
 religion could no longer be defined for the Roman in terms of 
 
the republican state of earlier times. The last century of the 
 republic was a time of deplorable political and social corruption 
 and decay. The state was the victim of a succession of 
 demagogues, military dictators, and political adventurers. 
 Private morality also was in a state of decline. The old respect 
 for ancestral customs had disappeared. Family life was 
 breaking down. Divorces, hardly heard of in the olden time, 
 had become scandalously common. All forms of sexual vice 
 were practised. The influence of Stoicism and other forms of 
 Greek philosophy did not avail to arrest the downward 
 tendencies, though they helped a little to retard them among 
 the cultivated classes. 
 
 VIII Religion and the Roman Emperors 
 
 So, with the establishment of order in imperial times, 
 Augustus and his successors had to do more than simply 
 maintain discipline in the army and peace in the provinces. 
 They had to provide efficient executives and courts for the city 
 of Rome and for the world. They had to pass, and, as well 
 as they could, enforce laws calculated to reform civic and 
 domestic morals. In the effort to effect these reforms they 
 recognized the need of religion. Augustus and Tiberius revived 
 as many religious features of earlier and purer times as they 
 could. They built many temples and revived many forms of 
 worship, naturally associating them with the imperial house 
 so as to strengthen its authority and prestige. 
 
 One serious religious problem confronted this age. In 
 earlier times there had been a single god who, above all others, 
 protected the state, Jupiter Stator. Now, everywhere in the 
 the empire, people knew of such a god as Jupiter or Zeus ; but 
 they conceived him quite diversely, and there was no recognized 
 ritual or Bible or church or system of dogma that could bind 
 the world in common loyalty to Jupiter or any other god as 
 protector of the state. The attempted solution was to revere 
 the emperor himself as such a god. So, during his lifetime in 
 the provinces, and after his death in both Rome and the 
 provinces, Augustus became a god (divus) and loyal citizens 
 and subjects did him reverence as such. Several of his 
 successors during the first century A. D. also became reverenced 
 as gods; and, later on, every emperor as a matter of course 
 became divine. To be sure, none of the emperors were perfect 
 in their private or public conduct. But neither were any of 
 
THE ROMAN EMPIRE 123 
 
 the gods of mythology, for that matter. Augustus, Vespasian 
 and Trajan were truly great men, who labored wisely and well 
 for the good of the world; they were certainly as good and 
 heroic as any of the gods of mythology. And they were 
 historical characters of whom all men knew, and whom all 
 respected. So soldiers reverently swore to obey the emperor as 
 a god, and every good citizen was expected to show his loyalty 
 and obedience to the government by revering the statues of 
 the emperor, which were erected everywhere. 
 
 Roman lawyers and jurists found much inspiration in Stoic 
 conceptions of a universal law and reason, and succeeded in 
 working out many of the principles of natural law and natural 
 right that underlie modern political justice. Stoic philosophers 
 went about teaching people, and addressing them in public 
 gatherings. Neo-platonic philosophers sought through 
 mystical trances to gain closer and more intimate union with 
 God, and so to gain spiritual and moral reinforcement for daily 
 duties. Philosophy to some extent took the place of religion 
 for the 1 more cultivated classes. It lacked, however, the warmth 
 and intimacy of the old anthropomorphic gods whom their less 
 educated ancestors had been able to worship with joyous 
 confidence. 
 
 IX Mystery Religions in the Roman Emffire 
 
 The masses of people in Roman imperial times, as well as 
 the classes, had lost much of the earlier faith in the old gods 
 of family and state religion. And they were not intellectual 
 enough to gain help from philosophy. So they turned to the 
 extravagant and imposing religious cults that came into the 
 Graeco-Roman world from Egypt and the Orient. 
 
 The Romans of the empire were attracted to mystery 
 religions through much the same motives that had influenced 
 Greeks in the same direction from an earlier time desire for 
 personal immortality and for some assurance of divine favor 
 and support in this life. Three mystery religions had wide 
 popularity and influence. In order of increasing importance 
 these were: the cult of Cybele and her son Attis, which had 
 originated in Phrygia; that of Isis and her son Osiris, two 
 Egyptian deities; and that of Mithra, which was probably 
 of Persian origin. In each of the two first mentioned the 
 central idea is this : the goddess had lost her son by death, and 
 had succeeded in effecting his resurrection; those who are 
 
GREECE AND ROME 
 
 properly initiated into the mysteries and celebrate the 
 anniversary of the god's death with mourning and that of his 
 resurrection with rej oicirig thereby become partakers of his 
 divine nature and his immortality. The ceremonies connected 
 with the Phrygian religion were imposing and emotionally 
 exciting; unfortunately they retained gross features of their 
 savage origin. The religion of Isis was more refined, coming 
 as it did from an older civilization. Its ritual was beautiful 
 and impressive, its temples imposing; the secrecy of the 
 ceremonies aroused the awe of the initiates ; there were elements 
 of spirituality in the worship. 
 
 From the second to the fourth century, A. D., the most 
 vigorous rival of Christianity was probably the religion of 
 Mithra. Though older than Christianity, it became an actively 
 growing religion, only half a century earlier (about the middle 
 of the first century, B. C.). 
 
 The mysteries of Mithra appealed primarily to soldiers. 
 Legions were doubtless often recruited in the east, where the 
 religion had its home,, and wherever these legions were later sent, 
 the disciples of Mithra in them became active propagandists. 
 So ruins of ancient Mithraeums are bound to-day all along the 
 former frontiers of the Roman empire (where there were 
 military camps), as well as in the city and seaport of ancient 
 Rome itself. Only men were initiated into these mysteries. It 
 was a kind of free masonry ; there were seven different orders 
 into which the worshipper. might successively be initiated. After 
 passing severe tests of endurance, and taking oaths of devotion 
 to the god and order and receiving a sacrament, the mysteries 
 would be revealed to a candidate. The fact that ruins of 
 temples of the Great Mother are often found in proximity to 
 those of Mithra has led to the supposition that the wives and 
 daughters of the followers of Mithra worshipped Cybele and 
 Attis. 
 
 Mithra was a mythological deity who sprang miraculously 
 into life from a rock and performed all sorts of heroic deeds, 
 such as would appeal to the admiration of soldiers. He 
 overcame the sun god and made him his faithful vassal and 
 ally. His chief exploit was a painful journey to kill a bull that 
 was working great destruction to mankind. From the body 
 of the slain bull came useful herbs and plants ; from the spinal 
 cord wheat came into existence and from the blood came the 
 wine. (Hence bread and wine were used in a sacrament.) In 
 
MYSTERY RELIGIONS 125 
 
 the course of his exploits he struck a rock with arrows and 
 water gushed forth. Later on, there came a flood, from which 
 one man, secretly advised by the gods, built a boat and escaped 
 with his cattle. Mithra celebrated a Last Supper with the Sun 
 God and other companions, after which he ascended into the 
 heavens. When a man dies, his soul goes to face Mithra after 
 death, and he is judged according to his deserts. At the end 
 of the world, Mithra shall summon the dead from their graves 
 and hold a Last Judgment. The wicked- shall be consumed in 
 fire, while the faithful shall reign with Mithra forever. 
 
 If in the second or third century A. D., a visitor had 
 entered a place devoted to the worship of Mithra, and then 
 one devoted to the worship of Christ, he would have found many 
 similar features. In each case, the place of worship would have 
 been likely to have been underground. There would have been 
 a nave and side aisles, and an upraised place where stood the 
 altar. Behind the altar, or above it, there would probably 
 have been a work of art depicting the suffering on the part of 
 a god in human form, suffering through which it was thought 
 salvation comes to men. For on the countenance of Mithra in 
 the act of slaying the bull, the sculptors depicted extreme 
 agony, almost comparable to that of a Christian crucifix or 
 pieta. On entering either Mithraeum. or Christian church, 
 worshippers dipped their fingers into holy water. Initiates to 
 both religions were baptized, and partook of the bloodless 
 sacrifice of bread and wine. The sign of the cross was made 
 upon the foreheads of Mithra initiates with a red hot iron, 
 testing their courage and leaving an indelible reminder of their 
 vows. The twenty-fifth day of December was a holiday for the 
 worshippers of Mithra, on which they celebrated the birth of 
 the sun (the days began perceptibly to lengthen then) ; and 
 on that day families feasted and exchanged gifts. 
 
 The values conserved by Mithraism included loyalty to one's 
 fellow members, and to Mithra their saviour. It seems to have 
 upheld the ordinary principles of morality taught by all ethical 
 religions. It probably differed chiefly from Christianity in 
 putting more emphasis on physical courage and other masculine 
 virtues, and less upon more feminine virtues like love, meekness, 
 pity, and endurance. It was a spiritual religion, however, and 
 through prayer and sacraments gave men a feeling of divine 
 presence and help, and a hope of immortality. It also differed 
 from Christianity in making more of loyalty and devotion to 
 
GREECE AND ROME 
 
 the empire and emperor. Above all, it differed in emphasizing 
 the military virtues, whereas the Christians of those times 
 were often pacifists and thought all warfare wrong. Since 
 Mithraism tolerated the other forms of religious worship, it 
 could readily be accepted by those who desired its spiritual 
 support, and yet did not want to- turn their backs upon the faith 
 of their fathers. So Mithraism gained general favor far more 
 rapidly than Christianity. 
 
 But the very tolerance of Mithraism prevented it from 
 developing into a completely spiritual religion. It could not 
 free itself wholly from primitive superstitions. With no room 
 . for women to participate in its worship, it lacked the support 
 of those who always have been the mainstay of Christianity 
 ("last at the cross and first at the tomb"). This lack forced 
 Mithraism to provide for the womenfolk of its members by 
 associating itself with the worship of Attis, full of superstitions 
 and degrading practises. By its intolerance of everything 
 pagan, Christianity kept absolutely free from debasing contacts 
 with other faiths. Its communion included women as well as 
 men. Instead of a mythical hero, Christianity had the 
 advantage of an historic man, who had led a blameless life in 
 recent times, as its Founder. It was thus able to exalt the 
 moral values in absolute purity, and to conserve them through 
 a sublime Saviour God and a consecrated Church. Christianity 
 won a complete victory over its rivals, the mystery religions, 
 because of its moral and spiritual superiority. 
 
 X The Debt of Modern Religion to Greece and Rome 
 
 In many respects the religious history of Greece and Rome 
 was one of failure. This was not owing to the lack of intel- 
 lectual recognition and appreciation of the higher moral values. 
 On this side the Greeks and Romans were more successful, on 
 the whole, than the Hebrews. But they could not find an 
 adequate Agency through whom they might seek the conserva- 
 tion of their values. No conception of God took root in the 
 sentiments of the people generally that was both intellectually 
 and morally adequate. The Stoic conception though in many 
 ways intellectually and morally sublime, did not furnish a 
 strong enough emotional appeal to incite men to do their best, 
 and to afford them a sense of strength and support in their 
 endeavors. The mystery religions were more potent emotionally, 
 but they were never quite convincing intellectually, and they 
 
CONTRIBUTIONS 127 
 
 never reached a sufficiently pure moral plane. And neither 
 philosophical school nor mystery cult developed into a highly 
 organized church, with strong ties of love binding its members 
 together in common loyalty to one another and to God. So we 
 may say that the ultimate failure of Greek and Roman 
 religions was one of inadequacy in finding an Agency through 
 which to seek the conservation of their socially recognized 
 values. 
 
 Nevertheless, the present-day religions of the west, both 
 Christian and Jewish, owe a very great deal to the Greeks and 
 Romans. 
 
 First, on the side of the recognition of values. The Old 
 Testament and the New, taken literally, contain no such clearly 
 developed conceptions of social and political justice as are to 
 be found in the teaching of Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, and the 
 Stoics. These conceptions are quite in the spirit of Christianity 
 and Judaism as we know them, of course, and the latter 
 religions long ago so thoroughly assimilated the Greek 
 teachings that ministers and rabbis unconsciously read them 
 into Scripture texts in a manner that accrues to the moral 
 benefit of their listeners almost as much as if preachers and 
 congregations knew the real sources of this particular side of 
 their moral convictions. Almost all of our understanding of 
 civic rights and obligations is derived from Greece and Rome. 
 Realization of the fact that morality cannot adequately take 
 root in individuals if social and political relations are neglected 
 is chiefly due to the Greeks. Regard for law and consciousness 
 of responsibility for making the laws what they are, and for 
 their enforcement, come under this head. The conception 'of 
 God as our heavenly Father and of all men as our brothers 
 was far more clearly and emphatically stated by the Stoics 
 than by any Hebrew predecessors of Jesus and Paul.J 
 Reverence for family ties, the duty to honor one's father and 
 mother, were equally taught by Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans. 
 
 Certain moral principles were even more clearly recognized 
 in pre-Christian Greek and Roman times than they have been 
 by the modern world until the last century or two. These 
 principles are now, of course, taught by Christians and Jews 
 alike. But they owe their origin in our moral consciousness 
 to the Greeks and Romans. Among these are the wrongfulness 
 of slavery (which the Stoics sharply denounced and succeeded 
 in mitigating). The civic rights of woman were more 
 
128 GREECE AND ROME 
 
 generously recognized by the Romans of imperial times thai 
 at any subsequent period of European history prior to th< 
 nineteenth century. The recognition of the principle thai 
 sovereignty comes from the people, not from the divini 
 authority of rulers, owes much to modern Christians, especially 
 to Calvinists ; but this is a Roman conception not found ii 
 either the Old or the New Testament, and it was rejected bj 
 the Christian world until the Renaissance. All attempts t( 
 formulate principles of justice, equity, wisdom, courage, tern 
 perance, and other virtues, rights and duties, in short t< 
 work out a science of ethics, law, or jurisprudence, owe theii 
 original impetus to Greece and Rome. That medieval anc 
 modern Christian and Jewish thought contain these element: 
 is one of their obligations to Greece and Rome notably tc 
 Aristotle. Finally, though the Old Testament praises wisdon 
 highly, recognition of the importance of free intellectua 
 inquiry freedom of thought, speech and publication 01 
 religious and other matters, and the value of free and disinter 
 ested pursuit of truth for its own sake are Greek values o: 
 which Christianity and Judaism remained profoundly unappre- 
 ciative until well into modern times. So it is not too much t( 
 -ty that a very large portion of the judgments of right anc 
 wrong which are now commonplace Christian and Jewisl 
 teaching originated in the minds and consciences of ancienl 
 
 ^Greeks and Romans. 
 
 Our modern religions owe much to the ancient religions oJ 
 
 L Greece and Rome on the side of Agency, including theology 
 ritual, and ecclesiastical organization. The Jews possessed 
 little or nothing in the way of systematic philosophy anc 
 theology until their contact with the Greeks began after th( 
 conquests of Alexander the Great. The Christian churcl: 
 possessed little theology in New Testament times, and that little 
 came chiefly from Hellenistic sources. The subsequent ancient, 
 medieval, and modern Christian and Jewish attempts to prove 
 the existence of God, to describe His attributes, and to explair 
 His relation to mankind, the problem of evil, the freedom oi 
 the will, and the immortality of the soul are built upon the 
 foundations of Greek philosophy, and, for the most part, arc 
 adaptations of Greek ideas and arguments. 
 
 On the side of ritual, the Christian sacraments of baptism 
 and the Lord's supper are strikingly similar to the mysterj 
 religions. The sermon, as has been remarked, may owe its 
 
CONTRIBUTIONS 129 
 
 origin to the Stoics. Christmas and Easter were both pagan 
 festivals which became Christianized. Many details in the 
 ceremonial of the Catholic churches, both Roman and Eastern 
 can be traced to Greek and Roman sources. 
 
 On the side of organization, Christianity owes a tremendous 
 debt to Rome. While to the Jewish synagogue the first 
 Christian congregations owed their origin, little groups 
 coming together for common worship, the later development 
 of ecclesiastical organization is chiefly indebted to the Romans. 
 The great political administrators of antiquity were the 
 Romans. As Christianity grew, some form of ecclesiastical 
 organization became necessary. The parishes and dioceses of 
 ancient and modern Catholic Christianity, together with 
 presbyters, bishops, archbishops, and patriarchs, are imitative 
 of Roman imperial administration. The same, to a less extent, 
 is true of all Protestant forms of Church government, whether 
 presbyterian, congregational, or episcopal. To the ancient 
 Roman practical spirit, occidental Christianity, whether 
 Roman Catholic or Protestant, owes the selection of workable 
 theology and ritual from the melange of doctrines and ceremo- 
 nies that arose in the East. To a combination and adaptation 
 of Greek and Roman ideas is due the conception of the 
 Christian church as the City of God, composed on earth of the 
 church militant and in Heaven of the church triumphant with 
 Christ at its head. 
 
 To what extent modern Judaism is indebted to Greek and 
 Roman sources on the sides of ritual and ecclesiastical 
 organization, the author does not feel competent to express an 
 opinion. The indebtedness is undoubtedly much less than in 
 the case of Christianity. On the side of theology the indebted- 
 ness is certainly considerable, and it must be remembered that 
 it began as early as the conquests of Alexander. 
 
 The modern believer in either Catholicism, Protestantism or 
 Judaism has of course no ground for distress in admitting that 
 the God of his faith has revealed Himself to a great extent 
 through the Greeks and Romans. Religious truths and 
 practises are precious, whatever their source. "By their fruits 
 
 ye shall know them." 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 *GEORGE FOOT MOORE, History of Religions, Vol I, Chapters XVII-XXTT. 
 *E. WASHBURN HOPKINS, History of Religions, Chapters XXII, XXIII. 
 L. T. HOBIIOUSE, Morals in Evolution, Part II, Chapter VI. 
 *FREDERICH PAULSEST, System of Ethics, Part I, Chapters I, III. 
 
130 GREECE AND ROME 
 
 *G. LOTTES DICKINSON, The Greek View of Life. 
 *J. DEWEY AND J. H. TUFTS, Ethics, Chapter VII. 
 
 MATTHEW ARNOLD, Essays in Criticism. Culture and Anarchy. 
 *L. R. FARNELL, The Higher Aspects of Greek Religion. The Cults of 
 the Greek States. 
 
 *GILBERT MURRAY, Four Stages of Greek Religion. 
 
 JANE ELLEN HARRISON, Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion, 
 *C. H. MOORE, The Religious Thought of the Greeks. 
 
 E. ZELLER, A History of Greek Philosophy. 
 
 TH. GOMPERZ, Greek Thinkers. 
 
 W. WINDELBAND, A History of Philosophy. A History of Ancient 
 Philosophy. 
 
 *ARTHUR FAIRBANKS, A Handbook of Greek Religion. 
 
 FUSTEL DE COULANGES, The Ancient City. 
 
 W. WARDE FOWLER, The Religious Experience of the Roman People. 
 
 J. B. CARTER, The Religion of Numa. The Religious Life of Ancient 
 Rome. 
 
 *F. CUMONT, The Mysteries of Mithra. The Oriental Religions in Roman 
 Paganism. 
 
 G. FERRERRO, The Greatness and Decline of Rome. 
 *WALTEB PATER, Marius the Epicurean. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 JUDAISM 
 
 I Introduction 
 
 THE evolution of the Jewish religion furnishes a contrast 
 to that of the Greeks and Romans. To a large extent the Jews 
 succeeded where th^ Greeks and Romans failed, and failed where 
 they succeeded. For the conspicuous success of Jewish 
 religious development was on the side of the Agency through 
 which conservation of values was sought. By the time of the 
 great pre-exilic prophets, Israel had attained an anthropo- 
 morphic conception of the national God (Yahweh), that, 
 though cruder and less artistic than the Homeric gods, was 
 clear cut and vivid, and presented more decided moral aspects. 
 In the later evolution, the conception of God became purified 
 of its anthropomorphic characteristics. The early crudities, 
 both sensuous and moral, vanished. The God of modern Jewish 
 theism emerged eternal, omniscient, omnipotent, supremely 
 just, merciful, righteous, and holy. However, in contrast to 
 Greek and Indian evolution, in the process of deanthropomor- 
 phization, the Hebrew God did not tend to become an abstrac- 
 tion, intelligible only to philosophical thinkers and incapable 
 of appealing to the understanding and emotions of the plain 
 man. On the contrary, the religiously desirable features of 
 the earlier anthropomorphism were preserved. Worshippers 
 could continue reverently and lovingly to address Him as 
 "Our Father" and "Our King," to feel assured of His presence 
 among them, of His sympathy, love and guidance. 
 
 On the institutional side, the Jews were also brilliantly 
 successful. In the Law and other sacred scriptures, and in the 
 worship of the synagogue and the home, they formed ties that 
 have bound them so firmly to one another and to their God 
 Lhat the loss of their country and the persecutions of two 
 thousand years have not availed to undermine their religion, 
 or to impair its efficacy in the conservation of the values dear 
 to them. 
 
 181 
 
132 JUDAISM 
 
 When, on the other hand, we turn to Judaism for light upon 
 the definition and systematic organization of values we are 
 disappointed. Though passionate in their love of justice, 
 righteousness, wisdom and truth, the Jews have contributed 
 little to the intellectual comprehension of these values, either 
 like the Greeks in philosophy, or like the Romans in law and 
 jurisprudence. To be sure, like the Christians, they learned 
 to appreciate ancient pagan culture, and to assimilate some 
 of it in their religion. Maimonides (fl204) has been their 
 greatest philosopher, 1. The Jewish religion has never been 
 able to expand beyond national limits, and to attain the cosmo- 
 politanism of the Stoics. Yet it has furnished the nucleus 
 for two international religions. To its conception of God, its 
 sacred scriptures, and its synagogue, Christianity and 
 Mohammedanism both owe their origin. 
 
 II Historical Outline 
 
 The history of Israel, in the strict sense of the word, can 
 hardly be said to begin until the reign of David, in the tenth 
 century before Christ. However, some of the main facts of 
 earlier periods are fairly clear. The Israelites of David's time 
 were descended from a fusion that had taken place during the 
 three centuries previous, between nomadic tribes who had 
 invaded Palestine from the Arabian desert, and the earlier 
 inhabitants of the land. The nomads brought into Palestine 
 with them a chest (the "ark"), associated with the worship of 
 their war-god, Yahweh. According to traditions, which most 
 historians believe must have a basis in fact, the ancestors of 
 some of them under the leadership of Moses had entered into 
 a sort of covenant with Yahweh by which they agreed to obey 
 him, and he to give them victory in war. In token of their 
 allegiance to Yahweh, they practised circumcision, and 
 celebrated the Passover, a sacrificial meal in which they entered 
 into communion with him. There was thus a note of moral 
 obligation and a sense of personal relationship in Yahweh 
 religion from the start. 
 
 Both the nomads and the Canaanites whom they conquered 
 worshipped spirits inhabiting trees, rocks, and springs of water. 
 Whether they worshipped ancestral ghosts is disputed. There 
 were portable objects of religious devotion (teraphim) which 
 may have been fetiches. Ephods which may have been wooden 
 or stone images or fetiches, were used in the worship of Yahweh. 
 
HISTORICAL OUTLINE 133 
 
 The nomads were a simple pastoral people, whose chief food was 
 probably the milk of sheep and goats. The Canaanites were an 
 agricultural people, with more elaborate religious ceremonies 
 containing rites suggestive of fertility, and attended by morally 
 debasing sexual practises. As the nomads were strangers in the 
 land, they united in the worship of the local Canaanite nature 
 spirits (Baalim) who were thought to give the products of the 
 land, the corn, wine, oil, and flax. Yahweh, the war god of the 
 conquerors, naturally became the god of the newly formed 
 nation. To some extent, he gradually displaced the Baalim 
 in the local shrines ("high places") and in addition to his other 
 functions, became a conservor of agricultural values. Some 
 of the grosser features of Canaanite worship were retained in 
 the ritual of Yahweh at these shrines. 
 
 As the disorganized condition of the Israelite tribes described 
 in the book of Judges gave place to the centralized monarchy, 
 the worship of Yahweh, the national god, gained in prestige. 
 David, and his son and successor Solomon, did what they could 
 to conserve national unity by centralizing Yahweh worship in 
 their capital, Jerusalem, where Solomon built a magnificent 
 temple in which the "ark" was placed. After the death of 
 Solomon, the tribes inhabiting the northern part of the country 
 refused to accept his son Rehaboam as their king, and set up 
 an independent kingdom. The northern tribes thereafter 
 worshipped Yahweh in sanctuaries of their own at Bethel and 
 Dan. But in both kingdoms the grosser worship of Yahweh at 
 local country shrines grew into disfavor in comparison with 
 the ritual at the central sanctuaries, which was more imposing 
 and meticulous, and most of the time at least, on a higher 
 ethical plane. 
 
 In both kingdoms economic development was attended by 
 unequal distribution of wealth, exploitation of the poor, and 
 political corruption. At the same time the rise of powerful 
 and hostile nations to the east, the Assyrians and Babylonians, 
 threatened the future existence of Israel. Various reformers, 
 the pre-exilic prophets, insisted that Yahweh demanded a large 
 measure of social justice in the land, and that, in case his 
 command was not obeyed, he would in punishment allow the 
 nation to be conquered by their enemies. The result of the 
 work of these prophets was to give the nation a conception of 
 Yahweh purged from the crude sensuous imagery and unmoral 
 features which it had previously had. The prophets met with 
 
JUDAISM 
 
 opposition, however, and, except for a short-lived attempt by 
 King Josiah (about B. C. 621) the reforms which they 
 advocated were not put into effect until after the exile. Both 
 kingdoms were conquered, the northern one by the Assyrians 
 in 722 B. C., the southern by the Babylonians in 586 B. C. In 
 the latter year Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, took 
 numerous members of the royal and noble Jewish families back 
 with him in exile to Babylon. This is what is known as "the 
 exile," and thus began the residence in considerable numbers 
 of Jews outside of Palestine and their "dispersion" throughout 
 the civilized world. Babylonia in turn, together with Pales- 
 tine, came under the rule of Persia in 538 B. C. 
 
 The Persian rulers were more kindly in their treatment of the 
 Jews, and permitted some of the exiles in Babylon to return to 
 Jerusalem "the return from the exile," from which dates "the 
 post-exilic period." They succeeded in rebuilding the temple 
 at Jerusalem under the governor Zerubbabel. The experience 
 of the exile had impressed upon the national consciousness the 
 teachings of the pre-exilic prophets. Henceforth Jews 
 worshipped no god but Yahweh, whom they now believed to 
 be the only God. They put into written form the ritual for 
 his worship, in which the use of images of all kinds was strictly 
 forbidden, as well as the legislation in the interests of social 
 justice which the prophets had enjoined. Ezra played an 
 important part in this work. The various codes of law and 
 ritual became ultimately combined into the law (the Pentateuch 
 or Tor ah) the supremely inspired authority of Judaism ever 
 since. Synagogues were established wherever there were Jews, 
 in which they assembled to hear the Law read and expounded, 
 as well as to engage in prayer and hymns of praise. In the 
 home, too, from then till now, it has been the duty of the 
 father to teach the more fundamental religious precepts to his 
 children and to. observe family worship, especially the Passover. 
 
 When Palestine came under the dominion of Alexander the 
 Great (B. C. 332) and his Egyptian successors, the Ptolemies, 
 conditions changed little, except that many Jews emigrated and 
 formed large colonies in Alexandria and elsewhere; so from 
 that time on more Jews have lived outside of Palestine than 
 within it. The Seleucid dynasty, who got control of Palestine 
 in B. C. 200, were less tactful in their treatment of the Jews 
 than the Persians and Ptolemies had been. One of them, 
 Antiochus Epiphanes, fell into a bitter quarrel with the Jews. 
 
HISTORICAL OUTLINE 135 
 
 In B. C. 168 he partly destroyed the temple at Jerusalem and 
 inaugurated the worship of Zeus Olympics on the great altar of 
 Yahweh. The devout Jews successfully resisted, under the 
 leadership of the Maccabees, and were able to rededicate the 
 temple to Yahweh in B. C. 165. Simon succeeded in founding 
 a comparatively independent Jewish dynasty, which he 
 strengthened by a treaty with the Romans in B. C. 143. Under 
 Alexander Jannaeus (B. C. 102-75) the kingdom compared in 
 territorial extent with what it had been under David. This 
 period of Maccabean independence and greatness strengthened 
 the faith of the Jews in their religion. Yahweh clearly was 
 their sustainer; and they began to dream that he would 
 ultimately give them the rule of the world. 
 
 But the Jewish kingdom did not long prosper. Jerusalem 
 was captured in B. C. 63 by Pompey, and Judea became 
 dependent on the Roman province of Syria. The nationalistic 
 and imperialistic dreams of Jewish enthusiasts made them 
 difficult for the Romans to govern, either through the Jewish 
 royal family, the Herods, or through imperial procurators like 
 Pontius Pilate. Visionaries kept proclaiming the coming of a 
 Messiah whom Yahweh would establish as their king and enable 
 to expel the Romans, conquer all nations, and make them 
 tributary to the Jews. The inscription placed over Jesus on 
 the cross indicates that he was condemned (wrongly, of course) 
 on the charge of being such a revolutionist. An unusually 
 fierce rebellion started by the Zealots, the leading revolutionary 
 party, was put down by Titus in 70 A. D., who destroyed the 
 temple. A last futile Jewish struggle in 135 A. D. was put 
 down, and the emperor Hadrian erected a temple to Jupiter 
 Capitolanus on the site of the temple of Yahweh in Jerusalem 
 and renamed the city Aelia Capitolina. 
 
 The priestly cultus of the temple perished with the Jewish 
 state. Only the worship of the synagogue and the home 
 remained. These, however, became purified and strengthened, 
 and the study of the Law continued. The codification of the 
 oral Law and its promulgation in the Mishna were effected 
 in the third century, A. D. For centuries later, further 
 interpretation of the Mishna continued. This had become. in turn 
 codified in the rival Talmuds of the Palestinian and Babylonian 
 schools by the end of the fifth century. The Babylonian 
 Talmud ultimately became authoritative everywhere. The 
 devout study and interpretation of the Law have continued ever 
 
136 JUDAISM 
 
 since, but with no essential changes until the close of the 
 eighteenth century. Since then there have been movements 
 to liberalize the religion and to bring it into conformity with 
 natural science, Biblical higher criticism, and modern condi- 
 tions in general. Jews in the United States at the present time 
 are accordingly either "orthodox" or "reform" (conservative 
 or liberal) as they oppose or favor these movements. They 
 have formed independent religious societies along the line of 
 this distinction. 
 
 Ill The Prophets Before the Exile 
 
 The development of the conception of Yahweh into that of 
 an effective Agency for the conservation of the higher moral 
 values, as has been said, was largely the work of the prophets. 
 These prophets were men who through reflection, prayer, and 
 visions felt themselves guided by a power not themselves. This 
 power they identified with Yahweh, or the "spirit of Yahweh." 
 Psychologically speaking, this power must have been similar 
 to what we have known in earlier chapters as mana. It was 
 principally due to the subconsciousness. The content of the 
 teaching of the prophets was the ideas that they were able 
 to think out for themselves in the light of their moral convic- 
 tions, their knowledge of the times, and of the history and 
 traditions of their religion. These they publicly proclaimed 
 with absolute sincerity as the words of Yahweh. It seemed 
 to them that they were delivering messages from him to the 
 people. Predictions of future events were often made by them 
 as incidental to their main purpose of inducing Israel to obey 
 the commands of Yahweh which they announced. Later, the 
 more important addresses of these prophets were put into 
 written form, either by themselves or by others. So far as the 
 modern Jew or Christian believes that these messages of the 
 prophets constitute a genuine advance in the evolution of 
 religion, he may regard them as indeed divinely inspired. 
 
 The conception of Yahweh that had come down from the 
 early nomadic invaders was simple. He was an idealization of 
 the sheiks with whom they were familiar, whose attitude toward 
 his tribesmen showed rough kindly affect Jon and justice, but 
 who was at times impulsive, angry, and jealous. Yahweh 
 stood for the social solidarity of the tribes whom he ruled; 
 he maintained among them the sacred duty to avenge the 
 wrongs done to kinsmen, and to be kind in the treatment of the 
 
PROPHETS BEFORE EXILE 137 
 
 unfortunate members of Israel, the poor, the fatherless, the 
 widow, the slave, and the concubine. He expected men to keep 
 their word ; to violate an oath made in his name was a serious 
 matter. His justice was that of collective responsibility; he 
 would send defeat upon the whole nation because one man 
 stole some of the spoil that had been consecrated to himself, 2. 
 He punished children down to the fourth generation for the 
 sins of their fathers, 3. Though the blood feud and collective 
 responsibility seem barbaric to us, they constitute a genuine 
 advance in moral and social evolution in comparison with the 
 eras that preceded their appearance. To be sure, Yahweh had 
 many traits that would appear to us to be moral imperfections. 
 For instance, Moses had to deter him from destroying Israel 
 in a momentary fit of anger by reminding him what the 
 Egyptians would think of him, 4: Jael is "most blessed among 
 women" for the treacherous murder, in the national interest, 
 of a trusting friend who was at peace with her husband and 
 herself, 5 ; and David is prompted by Yahweh to take a census 
 of the land, and then he and the people are punished by a 
 pestilence, 6. But, for all these faults, Yahweh was- doubtless 
 more nearly morally perfect than any human Semitic father 
 or ruler, and they attributed to him in idealized form those 
 characteristics of a king and a father which they knew. 
 
 The crudeness and naivete of the early conception of 
 Yahweh are shown in the myths of Genesis. Yahweh walks in 
 the garden of Eden in the cool of the day, while Adam and Eve 
 try to hide from him behind trees, just as naughty children 
 might hide, from a parent, 7. Noah offers him a sacrifice, and 
 the sweet savor tickles his nostrils, and he goodnaturedly 
 declares that for man's sake he will never again send a destruc- 
 tive curse upon the earth, 8. He eats a meal with Abraham, 9. 
 That a folk who thought of their national god so simply and 
 childishly could have endowed him with such clear cut moral 
 attributes is significant. The myths are serious ; their inten- 
 tion is to explain his goodness in creating the world, and in 
 instituting the sabbath as a day for rest ; his stern punishment 
 of sin; his call of their ancestors and his protecting care over 
 them ; and so on. There is nothing of the artistic genius of 
 the Iliad and the Odyssey, or the pre-scientific attempts at 
 cosmic explanation of Hesiod. The Genesis rnyths never involve 
 Yahweh in murder, adultery nor theft. They are reverent, and 
 they move on a high moral plane. Though undoubtedly myths, 
 
138 JUDAISM 
 
 the modern Jew may rightfully regard them as inspired myths, 
 displaying a moral dignity and earnestness not to be found, 
 probably, in any other myths produced by a people on the 
 same level of culture. 
 
 So the prophets had a solid foundation upon which to build 
 their morally advanced conception of God. The evils attacked 
 by the prophets before the exile come chiefly under two heads. 
 First, with increase of wealth and material prosperity sharp 
 economic inequalities had appeared. The rich had grown richer 
 and the poor poorer. The rulers were corrupt ; the judges took 
 bribes. According to Amos, a poor debtor would be sold into 
 slavery because he could not pay for a pair of shoes, 10. The 
 women urge the men to oppression to obtain the means for 
 indulgence in strong drink, 11. Hosea laments that there is no 
 true knowledge of Yahweh in the land; "nought but swearing 
 and breaking faith, and killing, and stealing, and committing 
 adultery," 12. Micah accuses the nobles of seizing unlawfully 
 the fields and homes of the poor, plundering travelers on the 
 highway, evicting women from their homes and selling children 
 into .slavery, 13. Isaiah makes similar charges, 14?. Secondly, in 
 place of the simple worship of the nomads, who probably 
 lived chiefly upon milk, and to whom the annual eating of the 
 Passover lamb was a joyous as well as a reverent sacrificial rite, 
 had succeeded lavish offerings of animals slain by the wholesale, 
 and attended in some cases by sexual and alcoholic orgies which 
 had crept into the worship from the Canaanites. Even sacrifices 
 of children seem to have occurred in rites of deities that were 
 popularly confused with Yahweh if not officially identified with 
 him. The prophets sternly denounce these immoral elaborations 
 of ritual which they insist Yahweh hates and despises, 15. 
 
 The perversion of the worship of Yahweh and the prevailing 
 social injustice are attributed by the prophets to the same 
 cause, infidelity to Yahweh's commands. The rich think that 
 by their costly offerings they will please Yahweh and he will 
 condone their offenses. But this is not the case. Yahweh 
 demands deep repentance for social wrongs and personal sins, 
 and, for the future, complete reformation. "Seek good and 
 not evil, and so Yahweh, God of Israel will be with you as you 
 say. . . . Hate the evil and love the good, and establish 
 justice in the gate. . . . Let justice flow on like a river, 
 and righteousness like a perennial stream," 16. If this is not 
 done, Amos warns that Yahweh will presently destroy Israel. 
 
PROPHETS BEFORE EXILE 139 
 
 Hosea puts a more personal note into his plea. Israel's 
 infidelity to Yahweh is like the infidelity of an erring wife to 
 her husband, and she is reproached sadly but affectionately; 
 she must speedily repent and return or it will be too late. 
 Yahweh, like a husband, demands the exclusive love of Israel. 
 Hosea repudiates the use of the golden bulls of Bethel and 
 Dan in the worship of Yahweh, and begins the campaign 
 continued by subsequent prophets against any use of images in 
 worship. Micah similarly insists that righteous living rather 
 than sacrifices is what Yahweh demands, and gives the famous 
 summary of the whole requirement of Yahweh: <4 What doth 
 Yahweh require of thee but to do justly, and to love kindness, 
 and to walk humbly with thy. God?" 17. 
 
 Isaiah, a prophet of the southern kingdom, thinks of the 
 temple of Jerusalem as the supreme home of Yahweh where he 
 has his throne and is attended by seraphim. To approach him 
 one must be clean ethically, as well as ceremonially. His mes- 
 sage is a demand for righteousness: "Wash you, make you 
 clean, put away the evil of your doings from before my eyes ; 
 cease to do evil, learn to do well; seek justice, relieve the 
 oppressed, judge the fatherless, take up the cause of the widow," 
 18. Yahweh will forgive Israel if she repents. But Israel must 
 do righteousness and trust in him, and not in foreign alliances. 
 The worship. of Yahweh with the golden bulls in the northern 
 kingdom, and at the country shrines, threatened to become dis- 
 credited during Isaiah's time by their failure to protect the 
 land from successful invasion, by the Assyrian armies. However, 
 the Assyrian Sennacherib was forced to retire in defeat without 
 capturing Jerusalem. Thus a great victory was won for the 
 now imageless worship of Yahweh at Jerusalem (for King 
 Hezekiah had destroyed the golden serpent there). The convic- 
 tion became strengthened that he dwelt in a peculiar sense at the 
 temple in Jerusalem where alone sacrifices should be offered. 
 This was a movement in the direction of monotheism; for 
 location of God in a particular place where he must be 
 worshipped without images of any kind strengthened the 
 tendency to think of him as one, and to think of him in spiritual 
 and not sensuous terms. (A sharp contrast is thus furnished to 
 the many shrines where different images of Zeus and Jupiter 
 were worshipped with different titles, and practically were 
 different gods.) 
 
 In earlier times Yahweh had simply been the national god of 
 
140 JUDAISM 
 
 Israel. The other nations each had its own national god. And 
 there were local deities as well, as we have seen. Gradually 
 the worship of Yahweh had supplanted that of the Baalim at 
 local shrines, and the local shrines gave way to the centralized 
 worship at Jerusalem, 19. Since the time of Isaiah and Senna- 
 cherib it had become a common belief that the powerful Yahweh 
 would never permit Jerusalem, and certainly not its temple 
 where he dwelt, to be captured by a foreign enemy. But 
 Jeremiah insisted that precisely this would occur. A potter 
 does not hesitate to destroy an unworthy vessel and begin his 
 work over again. So Yahweh will utterly destroy Israel for 
 her wrong doing. The outcome proved that Jeremiah was 
 right. Did this mean that Marduk, the god of Babylon, was 
 mightier than Yahweh, the god of Israel? Such would have 
 been the conclusion of an earlier age. But, no, the prophets 
 ever since Amos had been gradually working out a different 
 conception of Yahweh. When the historical outcome justified 
 the predictions of Jeremiah, the prophetic conception became 
 established for later Jewish thought. Yahweh is independent 
 of time, place, and people ; he is the one God of the entire earth, 
 and there is no other god. 
 
 To Jeremiah, too, belongs the credit for introducing more 
 personal conceptions into morality and into the relations 
 between man and God. Jeremiah and his younger contemporary 
 Ezekiel repudiate the old doctrine of collective responsibility; 
 Yahweh holds every man personally responsible for his own 
 sins, 20. Jeremiah enters into close personal relationship with 
 Yahweh, whom he constantly addresses in terms of vivid though 
 reverent intimacy. Jeremiah taught the Jews the possibility 
 and efficacy of personal prayer to a loving and w r ise, and abso- 
 lutely just God. We have seen that the Greeks and Romans 
 with the loss of the city state sought in vain to find a God no 
 longer connected with a particular state, but of the world, and 
 who yet would be in personal and intimate relations with the 
 individual worshipper. Judaism succeeded in attaining just 
 this. No longer connected with an independent Jewish state, 
 Yahweh became the personal guardian of his scattered- followers, 
 the loving personal King, and Father of each one of them. This 
 sense of personal intimacy with God, which thus began with 
 Jeremiah, ultimately found its finest expression in many of 
 the Psalms, 21. 
 
 It has been impossible to indicate all the steps in the evolution 
 
LAW AND SYNAGOGUE 141 
 
 of the conception of Yahweh effected by the prophets down to 
 the exile. But we have seen that they ultimately succeeded 
 in giving the Jews the conception of a personal, righteous, 
 merciful and loving God free from all the grosser features of 
 the earlier anthropomorphism. This God is conceived as 
 spiritual, and this spirituality is assured by the prohibition of 
 the use of images in his worship. There were few myths, and 
 these few, though crude, far from having markedly antimoral 
 features were on a high moral plane, and have always been 
 capable of use for moral edification by the Jewish and Christian 
 ministry. While political incidents facilitated the evolution of 
 Jewish monotheism, they, alone were not responsible for it. The 
 spiritual genius of the Jewish nation, as expressed by these 
 lofty minded, and, if you please, inspired prophets alone 
 made possible such an interpretation of the significance of 
 Yahweh. Other contemporary Semitic nations believed in 
 national war gods and met with political disasters, but none of 
 them had the spiritual genius to give the world an effective 
 conception of God as independent of place and nation, upholder 
 of social justice and individual morality, and accessible in terms 
 of personal intimacy to individual worshippers. 
 
 IV The Law and the Synagogue 
 
 Pure and lofty as was the conception of God attained in 
 the finest passages of the later prophets and the Psalms, this 
 could have had no abiding influence upon the nation as a whole 
 or effected social reforms, much less contributed to the religion 
 of future ages, had it not become embodied in institutions, 
 the temple, the synagogue and the family. A religion cannot 
 persist as merely the private experience of detached individuals. 
 Few such persons can preserve their spiritual strength without 
 association with fellow believers in common worship. And in 
 no case can a religion be preserved and propagated apart 
 from institutions. The pre-exilic prophets did not realize this. 
 They saw the evils in the ritual of Yahweh in their times, and 
 wished to do away with organized religious institutions 
 altogether, a mistake that has often since been made by over 
 hasty reformers. 
 
 In this respect the priests were wiser. Even before the exile 
 they seem to have begun to purify the ritual, purging it of 
 objectionable features, and to codify the law, introducing 
 provisions to guard against the social injustices denounced by 
 
142 JUDAISM 
 
 the prophets. Among the group of exiles living in Babylon, 
 who needed some means of preserving their religious and racial 
 identity in a foreign land, was the priestly prophet Ezeldel. 
 Though denouncing social injustice as severely as the earlier 
 prophets, and insisting on personal moral responsibility like 
 Jeremiah, Ezeldel realized the supreme importance for Israel 
 of the faithful observance of a purified ritual. He was the 
 first to perceive that the priest must also be a faithful pastor, 
 a watchman of the spiritual welfare of the people, 22. Through 
 the worship of Yahweh, the dry bones of a dead Israel will again 
 come to life. Stony hearts shall become hearts of flesh a sort 
 of conversion and Yahweh will put his own spirit within 
 them, 23. 
 
 After the return from exile, the evolution of the purified 
 religion proceeded rapidly. The central figure in this develop- 
 ment was undoubtedly Ezra, probably the greatest religious 
 statesman in the entire history of Israel, with the exception of 
 Moses. What features of the work of reconstruction were 
 directly accomplished by Ezra himself, and how much by the 
 later participants in the movement, is uncertain. In time the 
 various codes of the law became formulated in writing and were 
 read to the people. Of these codes, the Deuteronomic, with its 
 humanitarian legislation and its strong ethical emphasis, may 
 have come down from the last century before the exile; while 
 the more ritualistic Levitical and Holiness codes are the 
 fruition of the tendencies which Ezekiel did much to bring into 
 prominence. Presently all the codes were combined in the 
 Law (the Tor oh or Pentateuch, the first five books of our 
 Bible). As it was necessary for the people to know the Law, 
 it became the duty of the father to teach the simpler and more 
 fundamental principles, like the Shema (24) and the Deca- 
 logue (25) to the children in the home. Schools arose where 
 boys were sent to learn to read the Law and the other sacred 
 books. The sacrifices (other than the Passover, a family meal) 
 could only be performed at Jerusalem by the official priests. 
 Elsewhere Yahweh had to be worshipped by prayer and psalm 
 and by the reading and study of his Law and Prophets. Thus 
 synagogues arose in which this simple, spiritual worship was 
 performed. They were established everywhere. The ritualistic 
 observance of the Sabbath and of the preparation of food were 
 obligatory upon Jews everywhere. For those living outside 
 of Palestine whose number was constantly upon the increase, 
 
MESSIANIC HOPE 143 
 
 the ritual of the home and synagogue became the essential part 
 of the religion. 
 
 Not all of the Law was put into writing in the time of Ezra 
 and the generations immediately following. The oral tradition 
 was also regarded as inspired and authoritative. Scholars 
 devoted their lives to the study of the oral as well as the written 
 Law. The observance and study of the Law bound the nation 
 together. Their earnestness gave the Law an increasingly 
 deep and spiritual interpretation, which kept their lives on a 
 higher plane than the nations by whose lands Palestine was 
 surrounded, to whom it was successively subject, and among 
 whom all the Jews ultimately were destined to live after they 
 no longer had a country of their own. Those who are 
 prejudiced against the Law, and think Judaism necessarily a 
 religion of dead legalism and formalism should read what Jews 
 have written about it in all ages including our own. The deep 
 reverence they have for it, and the spiritual uplift which it 
 to-day exerts for them, seem to be as genuine and profound 
 as we find expressed in the Psalms, 2(J. 
 
 V The Messianic Hope 
 
 The early traditions told how Yahweh had chosen Israel 
 for his people, delivered them out of Egyptian bondage, and 
 won for them the land of Canaan. Their ancestors appeared 
 to have violated the covenant by serving other gods and 
 committing social injustice and personal sins. Since the exile, 
 however, Israel was faithful to Him as the one God, and obeyed 
 the Law with scrupulous care. So the hope grew strong that 
 He would ultimately restore the nation to the glory and inde- 
 pendence which they imagined that it had enjoyed in the time 
 of David and Solomon, or even to something still more 
 magnificent. Ezekiel, living in exile, portrayed a future 
 commonwealth in which Yahweh would dwell, to which Israelites 
 in other lands would be restored, and which would be victorious 
 over hostile powers. Haggai and Zechariah hoped that Yahweh 
 would cause these dreams to be realized through Zerubbabel, 
 the governor, who was a prince of the House of David, 27. 
 Malachi expected that after having first sent Elijah as his 
 messenger, Yahweh would shortly appear, punish the wicked, 
 and reward the faithful. 
 
 The prophecy of a post-exilic writer that has been incor- 
 porated into the book of Jeremiah (28) gives a complete outline 
 
144 JUDAISM 
 
 of what by his time was expected by some to occur. Yahweh 
 will restore the exiles to the fatherland. Israel will regain its 
 independence, and the other nations will be filled with dismay, 
 A second David will rule over the land. Yahweh will write 
 his Law in their inward parts, and all of them will know him 
 from the least to the greatest; he will forgive their sins. All 
 will be joy and happiness. A passage in Micah declares that 
 this future ruler of Israel will be born in Bethlehem, 29. 
 Passages in the first Isaiah, promising deliverance were later 
 thought to refer to this future Prince of the house of David 
 whom Yahweh would set upon the throne of Israel, and other 
 passages of similar tenor crept into the book, 30. The prophet 
 or prophets who contributed the second half of the present 
 book of Isaiah are full of the expectations that Yahweh will 
 restore Israel, 31. 
 
 What is the place of Gentile nations in the divine plan of 
 Yahweh? In pre-exilic times, for such a prophet as Amos, 
 they had served for little more than instruments by which 
 Yahweh punished Israel. The more narrow-minded saw no 
 need of according to Gentiles a positive place in the plans of 
 Yahweh. This is even the case with Ezekiel. The broader 
 minded, however, realized that Gentiles are human beings, and 
 that Yahweh has them under his care. The book of Ruth calls 
 attention to the fact that one of the ancestors of David was 
 a Moabitess. The book of Jonah teaches the lesson that God 
 is willing to spare a heathen city that repents of wrong doing. 
 In the later chapters of the book of Isaiah the thought is 
 suggested that through Israel Yahweh will bring salvation to 
 the Gentiles : "It is too light a thing that thou shouldest be 
 my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to restore the 
 preserved of Israel; I will also give thee for a light to the 
 Gentiles, that thou mayest be my deliverance unto the end of 
 the earth," 32. 
 
 In the first century of the Christian era, and in the century 
 immediately preceding, Judaism showed some promise of 
 becoming a missionary religion. Numerous proselytes were 
 won to it in Alexandria, Rome, and elsewhere. Full conformity 
 to the Jewish Law with respect to circumcision and other rites 
 was exacted of Gentile converts. After, however, Christianity, 
 under the leadership of Paul adopted the policy of accepting 
 Gentile converts without expecting them to conform to the 
 onerous requirements of the Law, the older religion became 
 
MESSIANIC HOPE 145 
 
 unable to compete successfully with its new rival in missionary 
 efforts. Presently missionary activity was given up by Judaism. 
 It was concluded that in His own good time Yahweh will cause 
 all nations of their own accord to seek inclusion within the 
 Jewish religion, accepting all its requirements. Until that time 
 shall come, it is the duty of the Jewish people to preserve the 
 religion pure and undefiled. In so doing they are of service to 
 mankind as a sort of national priesthood. This is the view held, 
 by liberal Jews at least, at the present time. They admit that 
 there is much that is good in other religions besides their own. 
 Christians who are true to God as they understand Him will be 
 recognized and rewarded by Him. 
 
 In times of prosperity Messianic dreams have had little hold ; 
 tvhen hardship and oppression have come to the Jew they have 
 revived. The period when Antiochus Epiphanes persecuted the 
 Jewish nation and endeavored to force them to become apostates 
 was such a time of extreme oppression. It accordingly 
 produced a remarkable apocalyptic literature in which startling 
 visions are described, and the date of the deliverance of Yahweh 
 attended in some cases by the coming of the Messiah, is calcu- 
 lated to be very close at hand. The book of Daniel, which is 
 of this type, is thought to have appeared close upon the first 
 successes of the Maccabean resistance to Antiochus Epiphanes. 
 With the decline of Jewish prosperity and independence after 
 the Maccabean revival, apocalyptic hopes again flamed up. A 
 large literature of predictions appeared, foretelling numerous 
 wars between the nations, and the time of the coming of Yahweh 
 and his Messiah. These were published under the names of 
 Enoch, Moses, Baruch, the twelve patriarchs, and others. In 
 the book of Enoch the Messiah is described as eternally 
 pre-existing in the heavens, and destined to descend upon the 
 earth in human form at the time appointed by God. The Enoch 
 conceptions of an eternal and spiritual Messiah are thought 
 by some to have exerted considerable influence upon early 
 Christianity. 
 
 From what has been said it will be seen that the Jewish 
 conceptions of the coming of Yahweh have always been diverse 
 and inconsistent. Some of them have associated the appearance 
 of a Messiah with the coming of Yahweh and some have not. 
 The whole idea has always been visionary, and fantastic. 
 Possibly it has been of value to hold faithful Jews together in 
 times of persecution, and so to help to preserve the religion. 
 
146 JUDAISM 
 
 But on the whole the notion at least in its apocalyptic forms, 
 seems chiefly to have been conducive to unwholesome otherworld- 
 liness, indifference to orderly progress, bitterness toward 
 Gentiles and dreams of cruel vengeance on them for the wrongs 
 of Israel ; and, at the worst, to fanatical revolts such as finally 
 brought Jerusalem to its ruin. From Jewish apocalyptic 
 notions developed those of Christianity, such as we find 
 expressed in the book of Revelation, and which deserve as little 
 commendation. 
 
 VI Conclusions 
 
 The contrasts between the successes and failures of Judaism 
 as compared with the religions of Greece and Rome were 
 indicated at the beginning of the chapter. It remains necessary 
 to draw a few conclusions and make certain comparisons 
 between Judaism and Christianity. 
 
 The great strength of Judaism, as we have seen, is on the 
 side of Agency ; its conception of God is at once sublime and 
 yet humanly intimate and accessible. The religion has been 
 preserved through its Law and other sacred scriptures which 
 have been taught in the synagogue and home and have become 
 ingrained in the affections of Jewish children. The observance 
 of Sabbath and other ritual, especially that connected with the 
 preparation of food, has kept the Jews a distinct and peculiar 
 people. Before the rise of Christianity there was no other 
 religion in the Roman empire that effectively conserved 
 individual and social values, and this was one of the reasons 
 for the decay of civilization. Their law and ritual preserved 
 for the Jews the ideal of a higher and purer moral and social 
 life than they otherwise could have attained, and enabled them 
 to seek and find the support of the God that they needed in 
 order to lead such a life. Judaism commands high admiration 
 for the purity and tenderness of its family life ; and the worship 
 of the home, especially the Passover, conserves the values of 
 the family more effectively than is done, probably, by any other 
 religion, not excepting Christianity. 
 
 The festivals observed by the Synagogue, such as the Day 
 of Atonement, the New Year's Day and the Feast of Weeks 
 now including for reform Jews the confirmation service, still 
 retain their impressiveness, and deepen and strengthen the 
 faith of the worshippers ; while even the most important days of 
 the Christian year, like Easter and Christmas, regrettably 
 
CONCLUSIONS 147 
 
 have for most Christians lost their spiritual significance and 
 become merely holidays. 
 
 A point of supreme excellence in Judaism is its conception 
 of God for the purposes of religion the finest that the world 
 had known up to the time of its development by the prophets. 
 This conception, with its further development during the 
 Middle Ages, is today very much like ordinary Christian 
 theism, more so than many Jewish writers are willing to admit. 
 For the Jew, as for the Christian, there is but one God. He 
 is eternal, omnipotent, and omniscient, absolutely just, right- 
 eous, and holy ; of long compassion and tender mercy. Jewish 
 writers often claim that their religion maintains the essential 
 unity of God unequivocally, in superiority to Christianity, 
 which even in its Protestant forms tends to obscure the unity 
 of God with its Trinity of three Persons (one of whom has been 
 a human being) ; while, for all adherents of Christianity during 
 most of the centuries of its existence and for the majority of 
 them still, the adoration of the Virgin Mary and the invocation 
 of the saints are a veiled polytheism. This, of course, is a 
 misunderstanding of Christianity. It is an equal misunder- 
 standing of Judaism, however, for Christians to imagine since 
 Jews do not rely on the mediation of Jesus as their Saviour, 
 that God seems to them remote and inaccessible. On the 
 contrary, the pious Jew directly approaches his God with the 
 same loving and reverent sense of intimacy as the earnest 
 Christian. 
 
 Jewish writers sometimes claim that Judaism puts more 
 emphasis on the justice of God, while Christianity speaks 
 mostly of His love, and hence that Judaism has a more consis- 
 tently ethical character and is more effective in conserving 
 social and political justice. The more constant study of the 
 prophets by the Jew may have made a difference here. Each 
 religion may bring out more clearly truths that the other has 
 not seen so well. However, the love of God is equally important 
 with His justice. Each religion, as a matter of fact, teaches 
 that God is both just and loving, and that He expects men to 
 be both also. Whatever difference there may be is simply in 
 emphasis. While Judaism, as has been said, did not originally 
 achieve the intellectual analysis of ethical values which the 
 Greeks attained, the contributions of the Greeks to civilization 
 have been as accessible to Jews in medieval and modern times 
 as to Christians. With respect to moral philosophy, theology, 
 
148 JUDAISM 
 
 and the philosophy of religion as well as all other products of 
 modern thought, including of course the natural sciences, 
 neither religion possesses any advantage over the other. 
 
 There is, however, one profound difference between the two 
 religions. Judaism maintains its integrity through study of 
 a Book, and conformity to ritualistic observance. The Jew 
 learns to love the Law, and through it he often attains a close 
 and tender intimacy with God and is thereby enabled to lead 
 a saintly life. The Christian attaches his affections to a human 
 being, whom, if orthodox, he believes to be very God of very 
 God, and in any event, whom he reveres as his Master, and 
 through whom he learns to love and know God. "The love and 
 loyalty of the Jew are directed toward the Law of God, of the 
 Christian toward the Son of God." Now, to the Gentile races 
 of the world loyalty to a person is more satisfying and uplift- 
 ing than loyalty to a ceremonial law. The Messianic hope of 
 the Jews is impossible of fulfillment, if it means that the time 
 will ever come when Christians will forsake Jesus in order to 
 become circumcised and subject in other respects to Jewish 
 ritual. The Christian can learn to be tolerant, and to recognize 
 that the Law is dear and sacred to the Jew, and that through 
 conformity to it the Jew can and often does lead a beautiful 
 and holy life. But for him to consent to conform to any such 
 meticulous ritual himself will forever be entirely out of the 
 question. Paul understood Gentile (or at least Aryan) 
 psychology in this matter perfectly, and was correct in 
 realizing that no religion of Jewish origin could ever make 
 headway among the Gentiles of Europe that had not become 
 emancipated from the Law. 
 
 Jewish students have sometimes privately asked the author 
 if he believes that the study of comparative religion should 
 force them to admit the superiority of Christianity and become 
 adherents to it. That is a matter that the Jews must decide 
 for themselves. The religion of their fathers is sublime; it 
 has many tender associations which they cannot lightly disre- 
 gard. It is not easy for most persons to change from one 
 religion to another after adolescence, and to gain much comfort 
 from the new religion. The religious habits and emotional set 
 that have developed since childhood, if broken, are liable not 
 to be replaced by new sentiments that are profound and 
 lasting, 33. So it seems very doubtful if an individual Jew under 
 
CONCLUSIONS 149 
 
 ordinary circumstances will benefit morally and religiously by 
 adopting a different faith. 
 
 The question, however, is sometimes raised whether Judaism 
 as a religion has not now really performed its mission. The 
 unity of God has been generally accepted. There is little 
 danger that Christianity will ever again lapse into conditions 
 of moral degradation, as it did in Arabia before the rise of 
 Mohammedanism and in Europe just before the Reformation. 
 It is asked precisely what values Judaism is conserving today 
 for society in general that would not be conserved as well 
 without it. And, by isolating themselves from the rest of the 
 world in an exclusive endogamous caste, the Jewish people lose 
 many of the contacts and cultural opportunities that the rest 
 of society enjoys. They suffer, too, from misunderstandings 
 and prejudices that are not easier to bear because they are 
 acknowledged by all intelligent Christians to be cruel and 
 unjust. 
 
 However, on the whole, the author rather hopes that the 
 Jews will remain true to the faith of their fathers, liberalizing 
 and modernizing it where necessary, but not so wholly abandon- 
 ing the ritualistic observances as to threaten their racial and 
 religious integrity. It is wholesome for Christians to realize 
 that social and moral values can be effectively conserved by 
 another religion. Christianity has often tended to put undue 
 emphasis on intellectual assent to creeds and doctrines. The 
 presence of a rival religion, which has always been free from 
 this fault, and which rightly centers religion on the life and 
 conduct of the home and religious community, will help to keep 
 Christianity from being one sided. There may, after all, be 
 some truth in the notion that the Jews have a priestly mission 
 in the world, that they keep before mankind ideals of true 
 religion that otherwise might be obscured. Intelligent Chris- 
 tians respect the right of Jews to decide this question for them- 
 selves ; they gladly welcome with the right hand of fellowship 
 any Jews who may care to unite with them, and they regard 
 with equal respect and good will those who choose to remain 
 faithful to the Law and the Prophets. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 *EDWAIU> WASHBURN HOPKINS, History of Religions, Chapter XX. 
 *JAMES BISSETT PRATT, Psychology of Religious Belief, Chapter V. 
 *J. DEWEY AND J. H. TTJFTS^ Ethics, Chapter VI. 
 
 *EDWARD SCRIBXER AMES, Psychology of Religious Experience, Chapter X. 
 *EPHRAIM LEVINE, Judaism (in the "People's Books"). 
 
150 JUDAISM 
 
 *MoRRi9 JOSEPH, Judaism as Creed and Life. 
 *C. G. MONTEFIORE, Outlines of Liberal Judaism. 
 
 GEORGE FOOT MOORE, History of Religions, Vol. II, Chapters I-IV. 
 
 L. T. HOBHOUSE, Morals in Evolution, Part II, Chapter IV. 
 
 EMIL KAUTSCH, "Religion of Israel" in Hastings' Dictionary of the 
 Bible, extra vol. 
 
 R. H. CHARLES, Religious Development Between the Old and New Tes- 
 taments. The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament 
 (with introduction and notes). 
 
 R. H. CHARLES, The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testa- 
 ment (with introduction and notes). 
 
 HEKRY PRESERVED SMITH, The Religion of Israel. 
 
 KARL BUDDE, The Religion of Israel to the Exile. 
 
 C. G. MONTEFIORE, Lectures on the Origin and Orowth of the Hebrew 
 Religion. 
 
 WILLIAM ROBERTSON SMITH, The Religion of the Semites. 
 
 H. G. MITCHELL, The Ethics of the Old Testament. 
 
 KAUFMAN KOHLER, Jewish Theology. 
 
 M. FRIEDLANDER, The Jewish Religion. 
 
 SOLOMON SCHECHTER, Studies in Judaism. Aspects of Rabbinical 
 Theology. 
 
 ISAAC HUSIK, A History of Medieval Jewish Theology. 
 
 The Jewish Cyclopaedia. 
 
 The Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics (edited by Hastings). 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 ANCIENT AND MEDIEVAL CHRISTIANITY 
 
 CHRISTIANITY, following the model of the definition of religion 
 set forth in Chapter V, may be defined as the endeavor to 
 secure the conservation of socially recognized values through 
 the agency of God as revealed in Jesus Christ. Christians! 
 of different ages and communions have held and still hold 
 various doctrines regarding the manner in which God is 
 revealed in Jesus Christ, and so made available to the believer. 
 But this general formula applies to them all. The common 
 Christian conviction is that the believer in some manner gains 
 divine power through the personality and leadership of Christ. 
 Variations in doctrines and creeds are to be regarded as so 
 many different attempts to explain the nature of the experience 
 on which this conviction rests; and differences in ritual and 
 ecclesiastical organization are alternative methods of procedure 
 in obtaining the experience for oneself, communicating it to 
 contemporary fellow men, and transmitting it to future 
 generations. 
 
 I Jesus of Nazareth 
 
 As in the case of Buddhism, nearly all the knowledge that 
 has come down to us regarding the Founder of Christianity 
 is contained in literature written by adherents of the religion 
 a considerable time after his death. In both cases, however, 
 the personal characteristics of the Founder are so clearly 
 delineated, and the general spirit of his teachings stands forth 
 so sharply, that opinion is all but unanimous that he actually 
 lived, and that an accurate impression of what he said and did 
 is obtainable from the study of the sacred accounts, 1. Con- 
 servative scholars are disposed to accept practically every- 
 thing in the scriptures regarding the Founder as authentic; 
 while radicals not only reject all incidents that cannot be 
 shown to be possible in accordance with the natural sciences 
 of our own times, but various other details that do not accord 
 with their own particular theories regarding the manner in 
 which the religion originated. The radicals, naturally, vary 
 considerably among themselves in what they accept as historic. 
 
 151 
 
152 ANCIENT CHRISTIANITY 
 
 It will not be necessary to give an outline of the life of 
 Jesus as set forth by the conservatives. e To ascertain this, 
 the reader needs merely to consult the Gospels themselves, or 
 a good Harmony in which the four Gospel accounts are 
 printed in parallel columns. The following statements, the 
 author believes, belong within the minimum that most radicals 
 accept ; they of course are agreed to by all conservatives. 
 
 Jesus of Nazareth was born within a decade of the traditional 
 year of our calendars. He grew up in Galilee, the northern 
 province of the Palestine of those times, probably in the village 
 of Nazareth, and he was probably educated to the trade of a 
 carpenter. The discourses attributed to him reveal familiarity 
 with the Jewish Scriptures, which he doubtless heard read and 
 discussed in the local synagogue in the dialect of the country 
 (Aramaic). He may have learned to read them in Hebrew in 
 the village school. His recorded utterances make little employ- 
 ment of the interpretations of the Pharisees and other scholars 
 of the time. The age in which he lived to put it mildly was 
 one in which the Jewish religion was not at its best. The 
 intellectual classes (chiefly scribes and Pharisees) who knew 
 the profundities of rabbinical interpretation, were as a class, 
 indifferent to the common people, and did not do as much as 
 they ought to have done to share their knowledge with them. 
 Some of the scholars were men of deep piety and religious 
 insight ; others had become absorbed in the technicalities of the 
 Law, and seemed to the common people (perhaps justly) to 
 have lost sight of its true spirit. Getting little religious instruc- 
 tion from the intellectual leaders, the masses were unduly 
 influenced by apocalyptic literature, which had wide circulation 
 among them. Impatient of the oppression of their Jewish and 
 Roman rulers, they ardently awaited the coming of Yahweh 
 and the Messiah. Visionaries, who imagined themselves 
 divinely sent prophets or Messiahs, kept appearing and causing 
 popular uprisings which gave the government a good deal of 
 trouble. 
 
 Not far from the year 30 A. D., an ascetic from the desert, 
 known to history as John the Baptist, came preaching through 
 the countryside. He denounced the evils of the times with 
 vigor but justice, exhorting the people to repent from their 
 sins and to be baptized by him in preparation for the coming 
 of Yahweh, which he announced to be at hand. Among those 
 
JESUS 153 
 
 who came to listen to him and be baptized was Jesus, then a 
 young man possibly thirty years of age. 
 
 Subsequent to his baptism Jesus went through a profound 
 spiritual experience. He retired into the desert to fast and to 
 pray. He returned with the consciousness of a mission. He 
 went from place to place, exhorting people to repent, and to 
 prepare themselves for a new religious era. He interpreted 
 to them the significance of religious truths with depth of feeling, 
 clarity of insight, and force of conviction, such as they had 
 not heard from the scribes in the synagogues. His magnetic 
 personality made a deep impression. Many experienced 
 spiritual awakenings, at least for the time; while enough of 
 the significance of his teachings penetrated the minds of a few 
 to induce them to forsake all and follow him. Out of pity for 
 their sufferings, he healed many sick folk who had faith in 
 him miraculously, according to conservatives, by mental 
 suggestion as radical critics think. After a while the novelty 
 of his preaching subsided, and many fell away. A few, however, 
 remained faithful. To them he explained his teachings more 
 fully, developing the import of the parables which he employed 
 in his public addresses, according to the custom of the times. A 
 chosen band of twelve men were associated more intimately with 
 him, and three of them (Peter, James and John) were with 
 him constantly. Among these it was understood in secrecy 
 that he was the Messiah. 
 
 He decided that it was necessary to call attention to himself 
 and his work by going to Jerusalem at the time of the Passover, 
 when the city would be thronged with pilgrims. He rode into 
 the city on an ass, in dramatic fulfilment of an ancient 
 prophecy, ; an act, which must have been interpreted by many 
 observers to imply Messianic claims. He addressed the crowds 
 in the streets. He went into the temple, and drove out a gang 
 of money changers and sellers of offerings who were cheating 
 the worshippers and profaning the sanctity of the place. He 
 denounced the Pharisees vehemently. All this won for him 
 considerable notice. Few in the listening crowds, however, 
 could have gained any adequate idea of the spiritual greatness 
 of Jesus, and the lofty character of his teaching. The Jewish 
 hierarchy were irritated at his attacks upon them; they may 
 also have been afraid that his followers would create a tumult 
 in the crowded city that would bring down the wrath of the 
 Roman governor. They thought it imprudent to apprehend 
 
154. ANCIENT CHRISTIANITY 
 
 Jesus publicly, on account of the excitement it would cause 
 in the streets thronged with Passover visitors. So they bribed 
 one of his disciples (Judas Iscariot) to take them to Jesus at 
 night, and possibly, to give them positive proof that he 
 claimed to be the Messiah. Jesus was accordingly arrested at 
 night, and brought before the Jewish council for a preliminary 
 hearing. The council were shocked at what in their minds 
 was his blasphemy in pretending to be the Messiah. They 
 delivered him over to the Roman governor, (Pontius Pilate), 
 on the charge that he was guilty of treason against the Roman 
 government, in that he claimed as Messiah to be the rightful 
 political king of the Jews. On this charge he was found guilty, 
 and put to death by crucifixion, 3. 
 
 Before long the followers of Jesus had visions of him, both 
 individually and collectively. They became firmly convinced 
 that he had risen from the dead, and that he was truly the 
 Messiah and had ascended into heaven. He would again return 
 to the earth in human form. The dead should then arise, he 
 would judge the living and the dead, and the present world 
 order should come to an end. Only those who repented of their 
 sins and accepted Jesus as the Messiah could hope for salva- 
 tion in this day of judgment. They made an impressive public 
 demonstration in Jerusalem (Pentecost) in which they "spoke 
 with tongues" and won numerous converts. 
 
 II The Apostolic Age 
 
 The followers of Jesus continued to attend the worship of 
 the temple, like other Jews, ard to conform to Jewish ritual. 
 In addition they held private worship in their homes, which 
 included prayer and the breaking of bread. Peter and the 
 other apostles were able publicly to effect the cure of sick folk 
 and accomplish "many wonders and signs" in the name of 
 Jesus Christ of Nazareth. They made addresses in public 
 places at every opportunity. Numerous converts repented of 
 their sins, were baptized, and became members of the new 
 religious society. The Hebrew scriptures were studied by 
 them, and found to contain numerous prophecies of the coming 
 of the Messiah, which were interpreted to be predictions of the 
 death and resurrection of Jesus, as well as of events in his 
 life. It is not remarkable that the arguments of the apostles 
 did not convert the Jewish people as a whole. The career of 
 Jesus certainly had not fulfilled Jewish expectations of the com- 
 
APOSTOLIC AGE 155 
 
 ing of the Messiah. Jesus had not become the king of a restored 
 Jewish nation ; he had not brought universal peace to the woi id ; 
 nor were all nations flocking to Jerusalem to worship at the 
 temple. As time went on, some champions of the new faith 
 sought to prove the descent of Jesus from David through his 
 father Joseph, and produced two apparently conflicting gene- 
 alogies to prove this claim ; while others said that he was 
 miraculously born of a virgin and had no earthly father at 
 all, 4. It is true that the Jewish expectations of the Messiah 
 were by no means consistent or coherent themselves, 5 ; but it 
 is not strange that the interpretations of the Hebrew prophets 
 in the interests of the new faith were not convincing to most of 
 the orthodox Jewish scholars of the times. 
 
 However, enough Jews were won at Jerusalem to constitute 
 a community of followers, filled with fervent faith and mission- 
 ary zeal. The movement spread beyond the boundaries of 
 Palestine, where it met with more success. The Hellenistic 
 Jews had not been accustomed to take the Scriptures so 
 literally as the Palestinian Jews; allegorical interpretations 
 were common among them. Nor did they observe the details 
 of the Law with Palestinian minuteness. So they were prepared 
 to accept the claim that in a profoundly spiritual sense Jesus 
 had more than fulfilled the Messianic expectation ; that he had 
 put religion on a higher and more personal plane. The claims 
 of the followers of Jesus also appealed to many "devout 
 persons," i. e., Gentiles who attended the synagogues, kept the 
 Sabbath, and worshipped the God of Judaism without becoming 
 full Jewish proselytes and submitting to circumcision and other 
 ritualistic requirements. 
 
 The orthodox Jews regarded the movement of the followers 
 of Jesus with horror. To them the claim that he was the 
 Messiah appeared to be downright blasphemy of the worst 
 kind. So they persecuted the blasphemers as vigorously as 
 they could. Among the persecutors was one Saul of Tarsus, 
 a city in Cilicia (outside of Palestine), an orthodox Jew who 
 had received a thorough rabbinical training, partly in his native 
 city and partly under the renowned Pharisee Gamaliel at 
 Jerusalem. He probably had become slightly acquainted with 
 the mystery religions which were strong in his native city, as 
 well as with Stoicism and contemporary Platonism. Saul, while 
 assistant in the stoning of Stephen, an Hellenistic Jewish Chris- 
 tian, became impressed with the piety of this martyr and of other 
 
156 ANCIENT CHRISTIANITY 
 
 followers of Jesus. While upon a journey to Damascus made 
 with the intention of prosecuting the followers of Jesus there, 
 he experienced a remarkable conversion, including a vision of 
 the risen Jesus, 6. He became an adherent to the new faith, 
 changed his name to Paul, and is known to history as the 
 renowned Apostle to the Gentiles. 
 
 For Paul acceptance of Jesus was the consequence of his 
 personal experience (a "conversion" in the psychological sense, 
 as will be seen in Chapter XV). He felt a tremendous reinforce- 
 ment of his entire spiritual nature, a peace of soul and 
 confidence that his previous fidelity to the Jewish Law had not 
 afforded. He felt himself aware of the constant presence and 
 support of Jesus, 7. The great desire of his life was to win 
 others, particularly Gentiles, to the worship of Jesus, so that 
 they, too, might gain the blessed experience that meant so 
 much to him, 8. 
 
 However students of psychology may interpret the religious 
 experience that Paul enjoyed, and that he earnestly sought to 
 share with others, there can be no question of its efficacy in 
 transforming his own life as well as the lives of those whom he 
 succeeded in fully converting. His own experience convinced 
 him that conformity to Jewish ritual was not requisite in order 
 to gain these results, and he realized that few Gentiles would 
 consent to become Jewish proselytes in the strict sense, includ- 
 ing submission to circumcision and all the detailed requirements 
 of the Law. So he insisted that Gentiles might accept the faith 
 of Jesus without becoming Jews. Paul succeeded after earnest 
 discussion with the more conservative disciples of Jesus in 
 Jerusalem, in establishing his contention, 9. He engaged in 
 active missionary efforts, and succeeded in establishing congre- 
 gations in many of the principal cities of the eastern half of 
 the Roman Empire. In his earlier epistles he seems to have 
 thought that the end of the age was near, and that the second 
 coming of Jesus was imminent. Later on in his career the end 
 did not seem so close, and he became reconciled to the thought 
 that it might not occur during his lifetime, 10. 
 
 Presently the Gentile followers of Jesus outnumbered the 
 Jewish followers. The center of gravity in the new faith 
 shifted ; Christianity became a Gentile religion. The Gentiles, 
 to be sure, believed Jesus to be the Christ (the Messiah), whose 
 coming had been predicted in the Jewish scriptures. They 
 accordingly accepted the latter as authoritative; but they 
 
CATHOLIC CHURCH 157 
 
 interpreted them wholly in the light of the new faith. They 
 believed that the details of the Jewish law were abrogated by 
 the coming of Jesus. Jesus, as "Lord," "Christ" and 
 "Saviour" was conceived by them very differently, thinking 
 and speaking in Greek and Latin, than by his Palestinian 
 Jewish followers who thought of him as the "Messiah" in 
 Hebrew and Aramaic terms. What the Gentiles sought and 
 found in the religion of Jesus was a spiritual reinforcement 
 through a personal God who had been a man in historic times, 
 and through whom they could gain consciousness of forgive- 
 ness of sins, intimate communion with God in worship, and 
 -assurance of a blessed immortality. Accustomed to the mystery 
 religions, they expected to be initiated into this religion with 
 a solemn ceremony, and to engage in a common worship that 
 would afford communion with God by a sacred meal. Influenced 
 by Stoic and other philosophic thought, they believed that all 
 men are brothers, children of the one God, in whose sight there 
 are no distinctions between Jew and Gentile, Greek and Bar- 
 barian, male and female, slave and freeman. All these points 
 were contained in the teaching of Paul, along with more 
 technical theological and mystical interpretations in which they 
 were probably less. interested. 
 
 Ill The Ancient Catholic Church 
 
 So long as numerous witnesses remained who had known 
 Jesus in the flesh, the spirit of his teaching and the memory 
 of his life and example maintained the church on a high level 
 of spirituality. But, as time elapsed, and the majority of 
 the adherents of the religion were persons whose environment 
 prior to their conversion had been pagan, a serious problem 
 arose. How could the purity of the new religion, and its 
 fidelity to the spirit and teachings of Jesus be preserved? 
 Christianity did not interpret the Law with Jewish minuteness ; 
 in fact, it had come to regard it for the most part as abrogated. 
 So the Law could not preserve the integrity of the new religion 
 as it did that of Judaism. The ministry of Jesus, terminated 
 by his death after a duration of not more than three years, 
 had been too short to enable him to leave his church organized, 
 and in possession of a coherent body of doctrine, as Buddha 
 was able to do after a ministry of nearly half a century. 
 
 The problem was met in several ways, and the process of its 
 solution was the evolution of the ancient Catholic Church. It 
 
158 ANCIENT CHRISTIANITY 
 
 is impossible to set a date for the transition from the primitive 
 Apostolic Church to the ancient Catholic Church. The process 
 was very gradual. It had its beginnings before the close of 
 the first century, at latest. It was certainly complete by the 
 pontificate of Gregory the Great (590-604 A. D.), if not much 
 earlier. 
 
 The original twelve apostles, with Peter as their leader, 
 naturally exercised a certain authority as the trusted interpre- 
 ters of Jesus. We know that James, a younger brother (or 
 cousin?) of Jesus on account of his relationship as he was 
 not one of the original twelve apostles also took a prominent 
 part at a conference at Jerusalem about 50 A. D., when ques- 
 tions of moment were decided, 11. The great missionaries, of 
 whom Paul was most renowned, exercised apostolic authority 
 over the churches which they established, visiting them from 
 time to time, and writing them epistles. In due course each 
 congregation had as its head' an episkopos (overseer? bishop?) 
 who exercised considerable influence and authority in the 
 immediate locality, and over whatever mission churches might 
 have been established in the surrounding country. Associated 
 with the episkopos in the conduct of the principal church, and 
 in subordinate charge of smaller congregations were presbuteroi 
 ("presbyters"? elders? priests?) ; and there were also deacons, 
 who originally were perhaps chiefly charged with the assistance 
 of the poor. Writing about the beginning of the second century 
 Ignatius exhorted local churches to obey their episkopoi. 
 Ultimately the episkopoi (bishops) in charge of churches in 
 the larger cities who naturally would be men of greater 
 eminence, both as scholars and administrators, were deferred 
 to quite generally. After Christianity became a recognized 
 and tolerated religion in the reign of the emperor Constantino 
 (306-337) general councils were from time to time assembled 
 to decide upon disputed questions that concerned the entire 
 Church. The decisions of these councils were believed to be 
 formed under divine guidance ; and, in the opinion of historians 
 not committed to Roman Catholicism, they were the supreme 
 authority. The Roman Catholic view is that the decisions of 
 the councils had to be accepted by the bishop of Rome. 
 
 In the west, Rome overshadowed other cities, and its bishop 
 other prelates. The popes usually had the practical Roman 
 genius of getting at the heart of a question, and avoiding 
 superfluities. Disputes all over the Christian world were 
 
CANON 159 
 
 referred to them for adjudication. By the end of the ancient 
 period, the bishop of Rome was widely regarded in the west as 
 the legal head of the Christian Church, in apostolic succession 
 from St. Peter. 
 
 How slowly or how rapidly this evolution of ecclesiastical 
 organization proceeded is in great dispute. Most conservative 
 Protestants think that it came very gradually and that it was 
 a degeneration from the simpler and more democratic organiza- 
 tion of the primitive church, which was like that of the Jewish 
 synagogue. Episcopalians, on the other hand, usually 
 maintain that Christ founded the church with the three essential 
 orders of bishops, priests and deacons ; he meant that priestly 
 authority should descend upon those ordained by bishops whose 
 consecration has been at the hands of other bishops in lineal 
 succession from the twelve apostles. Roman Catholic writers 
 include within this doctrine of "apostolic succession" the claim 
 that Christ gave a special commission to Peter as head of the 
 church on earth, that Peter was first bishop of Rome, and that 
 papal authority descends from him. The essential features in 
 the organization of the Roman Catholic Church are either 
 explicitly or implicitly stated in the New Testament itself; 
 later development was a mere unfolding of what was divinely 
 given from the start. Modern liberal scholars are usually 
 skeptical as to the existence of three orders in the early church, 
 and the few verses in the New Testament on which the claims 
 of the primacy of Peter are based (12) they think to be late 
 insertions ; but they usually affirm that the evolution of eccles- 
 iastical organization was a practical necessity of the times, 
 that it proceeded with great rapidity, and that if it had not 
 done so, Christianity would have become a cult of mad vision- 
 aries, would have absorbed pagan practises by the wholesale and 
 would ultimately have lost everything of the spirit and person- 
 ality of Jesus. The authority of the bishops checked the 
 visionaries (who fancied that they were "inspired by the spirit" 
 to preach and to practise all sorts of vagaries and immoralities) 
 and kept the worship and discipline of the church restrained 
 and reasonable. 
 
 IV The Canon 
 
 Another way in which the spirit of Jesus was preserved in 
 the church was by the writings left by apostles and those who 
 had been associated with them. Paul and others had written 
 
160 ANCIENT CHRISTIANITY 
 
 epistles from time to time in which they set forth practical 
 applications of the spirit of Jesus, as they understood it, to 
 the problems of the local congregations. Most New Testament 
 critics now believe that reports of the words and deeds of Jesus 
 were carefully collected about a generation after his death, by 
 at least two independent investigators. One of these collections 
 furnished the bulk of the present Gospel of Mark. The Gospels 
 of Matthew and Luke consist chiefly of compilations from these 
 two collections, to which a little material from other sources 
 was added in each case. These are the three "synoptic" gospels. 
 The Fourth Gospel, of later origin, is thought to be less accu- 
 rate in its report of details, but that it better reveals in some 
 respects what he had come to mean in the lives of Christians, 
 at the end of the first century or the beginning of the second, 
 when the spiritual scope and significance of the man and his 
 mission had become clearer. 
 
 In due course, the scriptures that were agreed to have come 
 down from the age of the apostles, and to have been written 
 either by apostles (including such workers as Paul among the 
 apostles) or by others associated with them, acquired great 
 authority for the guidance of the church. The precise list of 
 books now constituting our New Testament was not officially 
 decided upon and established by a council of the whole Catholic 
 Church until comparatively late. But, since at least 200 A. D. 
 there has been substantial agreement on most of them. When 
 comparison is made between the books of which the Church 
 constituted the New Testament and such of the rejected books 
 that have come down to us, no one can doubt the wisdom of 
 the selection, at least on the whole, 13. 
 
 V The Sacraments 
 
 The significance of the teachings of Jesus, and of the life 
 that is open to those who follow him faithfully was impressed 
 upon his worshippers by means of the church service, especially 
 the sacraments. Two ceremonies are specifically mentioned in 
 the Gospels that of Baptism which Jesus received at the 
 beginning of his ministry from John the Baptist and the 
 Lord's Supper ("Holy Communion," "Eucharist," etc.) which 
 the Gospels report that Jesus on the last night of his life 
 commanded his followers to observe in perpetual remembrance 
 of him. From the start, Baptism was expected to be attended 
 by a genuine repentance of sins, and a changed life. The 
 
SACRAMENTS 161 
 
 Lord's Supper, too, was a deeply spiritual act of worship, 
 which, at least since the time of Paul, must not be participated 
 in thoughtlessly, 14. Modern historical scholars are as little 
 agreed as theologians of former times whether baptism was 
 originally supposed by Christians to effect a physical as well 
 as a spiritual transformation in its sincerely repentant recip- 
 ients, and whether the various New Testament passages in which 
 the bread and wine of the Supper are referred to as the "body 
 and blood" of Christ were understood literally. Protestants 
 have usually taken both of these sacraments to be symbolical 
 in meaning; they are impressive and dramatic ceremonies 
 calling attention to the changes that take place in the mind of 
 a believer when he becomes a Christian, in the case of baptism ; 
 and, in the Lord's Supper, the increased spiritual strength 
 which he receives when, in company with fellow Christians, he 
 celebrates this service in commemoration of the great love and 
 sacrifice of Christ for men. Roman Catholics no less than 
 Protestants insist on the spiritual experiences that attend the 
 celebration of these sacraments, when received sincerely; but 
 they add that these experiences are made possible by reason of 
 the grace imparted through physical miracles. Whatever the 
 belief of the first Christians in the matter may have been, the 
 evidence appears conclusive that these sacraments were under- 
 stood to be miraculous as early as the beginning of the second 
 century. 
 
 Other sacraments were also observed by the ancient Catholic 
 church. Ultimately, during the middle ages, the Latin Church 
 definitely fixed the number of sacraments as seven. These 
 sacraments are outward signs believed to have been instituted, 
 either explicitly or implicitly by Christ to give grace. Con- 
 firmation is a sacrament in which the bishop extends his hands 
 over those to be received into the fellowship of the Church, 
 prays that they may receive the Holy Ghost, and anoints the 
 head of each with holy chrism in the form of a cross. It had 
 gradually, during the ancient period, become the custom to bap- 
 tize infants. The psychological justification of a ceremony to 
 impress upon parents and guardians their responsibility for 
 the religious upbringing of a child is clear; it is no less clear 
 that, once the initiatory rite of admission into the Christian 
 faith became celebrated in infancy, another sacrament had to 
 become differentiated to mark the conscious assumption by 
 
162 ANCIENT CHRISTIANITY 
 
 adolescent or adult of the responsibilities and privileges of 
 membership in the Church. 
 
 A person's character was supposed to become permanently 
 transformed when he accepted for himself the Christian faith; 
 he was "born again" in the words of the conversation between 
 Christ and Nicodemus given in the Fourth Gospel. But prac- 
 tical experience revealed that even professing Christians 
 sometimes lapsed. This particularly proved to be the case 
 during the severe persecutions ; men would fall away, and later 
 on repent and wish to be received again by the Church. So it 
 was believed that such persons must demonstrate their sincerity 
 i by avowed repentance and willingness to accept suitable disci- 
 pline. This is the sacrament of Penance. As finally developed, 
 it now involves that a person honestly call to mind his sins, 
 have whole hearted contrition for them, including the honest 
 resolution to commit them no more, confess them to a priest, 
 and accept such punishment as he may impose. It by no means 
 implies in the minds of Catholics that confession to a priest is 
 a substitute for confession to God ; on the contrary, it is 
 claimed to assure that such repentance and confession to God 
 actually does take place, which would not at all be certain if 
 these important steps were left wholly to the unguided initiative 
 of the individual in his private devotions, as is the Protestant 
 custom. 
 
 Extreme Unction is a sacrament in which the priest anoints 
 the believer who is in danger of death from sickness, and prays 
 for him. It is believed to fortify his soul in the crisis, and when 
 God wills, to strengthen his body also. Marriage ties had 
 become very loosely regarded in the ancient pagan world ; the 
 Church emphasized the sacredness of marriage, so strongly 
 taught by Jesus, by teaching that the ceremony of Marriage, 
 when performed by Christian rites, is a sacrament. The per- 
 formance of miraculous sacraments evidently implies the 
 possession of divine power and grace; so Holy Orders, the 
 ceremony by which the clergy are ordained, is a sacrament. 
 
 Various other "holy usages" became general practices in 
 the ancient Church. These have since become designated by 
 the Roman Church as "sacramentals," and are regarded as 
 acts or objects set apart or blessed by the Church "to excite 
 good thoughts and to increase devotion, and through these 
 movements of the heart to remit venial sin." Sacramentals 
 include the sign of the cross, holy water, blessed candles, ashes, 
 
CREEDS 163 
 
 palms, crucifixes, images of the Blessed Virgin and of the saints, 
 rosaries, and scapulars. It is clear to the historian that most 
 of the sacramentals were adopted under the influence of the 
 pagan practices in which Christians had engaged before they 
 became converted ; this does not, however, diminish their help- 
 fulness in worship when adopted by the Church and given 
 a Christian significance. 
 
 Christians of all ages have requested fellow Christians, 
 especially those whom they have esteemed for their piety, to 
 pray for them. In a world where prayers to the dead were 
 a common practice it is not strange that ancient Christians 
 asked the venerated dead to pray for them; and in regions 
 where the worship of a divine Mother and her Son had been 
 the practice from time immemorial, it was natural that the 
 prayers of the Mother of Jesus should have been requested 
 of her after her death. Prayers were properly addressed to 
 God only (the three persons of the Trinity), and to Him alone 
 were altars and churches erected ; although the mediation of 
 the Blessed Virgin and the saints was asked for, and altars and 
 chapels erected in their honor. Objects associated with them 
 during their lifetime are always precious to people, who have 
 lost through death those whom they have loved and revered. 
 The respect paid to relics of saints was perfectly natural and 
 inevitable. In the orthodox Church of ancient times the more 
 intelligent, at least, did not confuse the respect paid to relics 
 and the adoration of Virgin and saints with the worship of 
 God. The influence of paganism strengthened these practices 
 of course; but Jewish and Protestant critics are wrong in 
 accusing either ancient or modern Catholics, when intelligent 
 and orthodox, of tendencies in the direction of polytheism. Had 
 ancient Catholics been addicted to such tendencies they would 
 not have accepted martyrdom, as so many did, rather than 
 do reverence to the statues of the emperors and the official 
 deities believed by pagans to conserve the values of the state. 
 
 VI Creeds 
 
 The faith of Jesus spread in a world by no means devoid of 
 philosophical and theological ideas. It was inevitable that 
 Gentile converts should interpret their new religion in the light 
 of these conceptions. In fact, the Christian experience needed 
 such interpretation in order to make it more intelligible, and 
 
164 ANCIENT CHRISTIANITY 
 
 to harmonize it with the rest of human knowledge. Through 
 Jesus men everywhere experienced a closer contact with God ; 
 their ideals became purer, and they received strength to be true 
 to them. The fears and superstitions of pagan religions were 
 escaped, not by skepticism, but by divine support and assurance 
 of a blessed immortality. How should one understand these 
 experiences and this assurance? So the thinkers of the Church 
 worked out theories of the nature of God of how God became 
 incarnate in the man Jesus (the incarnation) ; and how through 
 his life and death Jesus has made it possible for sinful men to 
 become acceptable to God (the atonement) ; how God the 
 Father is related to His Son, Jesus Christ, and both to the 
 Holy Ghost, who is present in the lives of believers (the 
 Trinity). Not all of the theories first advanced upon these 
 subjects permanently proved satisfactory. Many of them 
 contained pagan conceptions fundamentally in contradiction 
 with the spirit of Christianity. This is not surprising in view 
 of the rapidity with which Christianity spread, and the hosts 
 of Gentile converts who had been educated in environments 
 alien to Christian ideals, and in view of the fact that there 
 was little philosophy in the Judaism from which Christianity 
 had sprung that could be drawn upon to meet these problems. 
 So, out of all the confused philosophies that were first advanced, 
 the Fathers of the Church gradually developed systems of 
 doctrine that were suited to the needs of those times. Space 
 does not permit an outline of these doctrines, nor of the 
 heresies against which they had to contend. A few of the 
 more important Fathers were Clement of Rome (f about 97), 
 Ignatius (f about 117), Justin Martyr (1*165), Irenaeus of 
 Lyons (f200), Tertullian (f220), Cyprian (f258), Clement of 
 Alexandria (f215), Origen (fabout 251), Athanasius (f373), 
 Basil (1*379), Gregory of Nyssa (1*394), Gregory of Nazianzus 
 (f389), Ambrose (f397), Jerome (f420), and Augustine of 
 Hippo (f430). 
 
 From the second century on, short statements of faith were 
 repeated by adults- receiving baptism and confirmation. From 
 these developed the Apostles' Creed, in the form we know it. 
 When Christianity became a recognized religion- in the Roman 
 empire, it was found necessary, in the interests of order and 
 harmony, to summon councils to settle various disputed doc- 
 trines, and to set forth their conclusions in creeds. As the 
 outcome of such deliberations on the part of councils the Nicene 
 
FUNCTION 165 
 
 (fourth century) and Athanasian (sixth century) creeds are 
 the best known and most important. 
 
 VII The Function of the Ancient Catholic Church 
 The development of the Ancient Catholic Church from the 
 primitive church was inevitable. In the condition of the times, 
 the spirit of Jesus could not otherwise have remained effective. 
 There had to be bishops to maintain order, check extrava- 
 gances and immorality, and to administer the churches, 
 together with Christian schools and charitable institutions, 
 and to interpret the meaning of Christianity in doubtful cases. 
 Questions of moment that concerned the whole church necessi- 
 tated councils. The rulers of the church had to have a 
 generally accepted Bible to guide them ; and they had to assume 
 the responsibility of interpreting it to laymen; for in the case 
 of newly converted pagans it was impossible that scripture 
 should be of private interpretation. The fundamentals of the 
 Christian faith, as it was understood in those times, had to 
 be formulated in creeds, worked out by experts, and adopted 
 by regular authority. And there had to be sacraments through 
 which the different aspects of the Christian life might become 
 vivid and real to the worshippers, so that they might gain 
 consciousness of the spiritual presence of Jesus in their own 
 lives. Without the institutions of the Catholic church, the 
 ancient Christian converts would have degraded Christianity 
 into a polytheism no better than the paganism that it 
 succeeded. Visionaries would have led Christian worshippers 
 into all kinds of fanatical and even immoral orgies, as indeed 
 they sometimes attempted to do. The ancient Catholic Church 
 conserved the message of Jesus and made it effective in the 
 lives of mankind. 
 
 The work of the ancient church has been attacked on two 
 sides. On the one hand it has been urged that since many of 
 its beliefs and practices came from the outside world, and were 
 neither of Jewish nor apostolic origin, they cannot be true. 
 Cardinal Newman has eloquently replied to this objection from a 
 modern Roman Catholic standpoint: the Church was divinely 
 inspired and directed in assimilating the rites and doctrines 
 that she needed. "So far then from her creed being of doubtful 
 credit because it resembles foreign theologies, we even hold that 
 one special way in which Providence has imparted divine knowl- 
 edge to us has been by enabling her to draw and collect it 
 together out of the world, and in this sense, as in others, to 
 
166 ANCIENT CHRISTIANITY 
 
 'suck the milk of the Gentiles and to suck the breast of 
 kings,' " 15. The other line of attack has been to point out the 
 ever lower spiritual levels to which Christianity descended from 
 the beginning of the second century on. There were endless 
 quarrels and squabbles within the church ; increasing numbers 
 sought salvation not by leading a useful life in the world, but 
 by withdrawing as hermits or monks into the desert; and, no 
 sooner did Christians gain control of the imperial government 
 than they began to persecute the pagans and massacre them 
 with greater fury than had ever been employed upon Christians. 
 It must be confessed that the later history of the ancient 
 Christian church is sad and disappointing when contrasted with 
 its beginning in the time of Jesus and his apostles. It can be 
 pointed out, however, that no movement has ever become world 
 wide without losing much of the fervor and pure vision of its 
 originators. The marvel is, not that the Church lost so much 
 of the spirit of Jesus, but rather that it retained any of it at 
 all. As an institution the ancient Church ultimately brought 
 the gospel to everyone; through its discipline it preserved its 
 purity as much as was possible; without its bishops, sacra- 
 ments, and creeds, there would have been no gospel left at all. 
 The Gospels themselves and their preservation in the canon 
 together with the rest of the New Testament, we owe to the 
 initiative of the ancient Church. 
 
 The reader should observe that we have not been considering 
 how far the twentieth century should accept without modifica- 
 tion the ancient ecclesiastical form of Christianity, with its 
 bishops, councils and popes, with its infallible Bible, with its 
 numerous sacraments that to the modern mind are not wholly 
 free from magical notions, and with its subtle creeds 
 expressed in the language of a period in the history of science 
 and philosophy that has long since been superseded. The only- 
 conclusion on which the writer at this point wishes to insist, 
 is that for the ancient world, the ancient Catholic Church con- 
 served the fundamental moral values more effectively than any 
 pagan philosophy or mystery religion was able to do, or than 
 the primitive Apostolic Church could have done if it had 
 persisted in an unaltered form after the first century, refusing 
 to adapt itself to the conditions of its environment. 
 
 VIII The Medieval Latin Church 
 When the Roman empire fell in the west, the Church, alone 
 
LATIN CHURCH 167 
 
 of ancient institutions to endure, became stronger than ever. 
 This is a striking instance of the plasticity of Christianity, 
 and its adaptability to changed conditions. St. Augustine of 
 Hippo (f430) foresaw the impending doom of the empire, and 
 worked out the philosophical basis for the Latin church of the 
 middle ages. St. Gregory the Great (f604) was the most 
 brilliant of the Christian statesmen who laid the foundations 
 of the medieval Church. 
 
 The theology of St. Augustine, like that of St. Paul, owed 
 much to his own personal Christian experience. A pagan in 
 youth, and a believer in the semi-pagan semi-Christian 
 Manichaean heresy in his young manhood, he experienced in 
 386 a remarkable conversion of the "sense of sin" type 
 (described in Chapter XV), as a result of the preaching of St. 
 Ambrose. He won as a consequence a complete victory over 
 the moral temptations that had previously beset him, and 
 gained great inward strength and peace of mind. Since his 
 own conversion and subsequent spiritual happiness were the 
 consequence of Catholic preaching and the acceptance of the 
 sacraments, St. Augustine believed implicitly in the authority 
 of the Catholic Church, that salvation can be gained only 
 through her sacraments, and that earthly rulers should be 
 subject to her. The empire, as he saw after Alaric and his 
 Goths captured the city of Rome in 410, must soon pass away. 
 Its mission, however, had been accomplished. By subduing 
 the nations and bringing them under a common rule, and in 
 other ways, it had made possible the spread and triumph of 
 the Christian faith. It must now give way to the Church, 
 the City of God which henceforth must more and more rule 
 the world. The Stoics had sought to ground religion in a 
 world order which they conceived as the city of God ; it was 
 the achievement of Augustine to find this conception embodied 
 in a living institution, the Holy Catholic Church. 
 
 There were two sides to Augustine's philosophy of religion. 
 His faith had grown out of his own inner experience; on the 
 inner life of the indivdiual he accordingly bases proofs of the 
 existence of God, and conceives of the relation between God 
 and the individual as intimate and personal, 16. On the other 
 hand he finds the Christian experience incorporated in the 
 Church, and made available to the individual only through her 
 instrumentality. The second side of St. Augustine was the 
 more immediately influential; it furnished firm grounds for 
 
168 MEDIEVAL CHRISTIANITY 
 
 churchly authority, and made vital and clear for western minds 
 the subtle doctrines of the Church, such as the Trinity, the 
 incarnation, and the freedom of the will. The significance of 
 St. Augustine's emphasis on the inner life of the individual 
 was scarcely appreciated until over a thousand years later, 
 when it had a great influence on the Protestant reformers, as 
 well as on Descartes (fl650) who initiated the first great 
 secular philosophical movement in modern times with a 
 philosophy based on the Augustinian doctrine of the certainty 
 and immediacy of self-consciousness, 17. 
 
 Through the statesmanship of a number of able bishops, the 
 see of Rome had gradually won, and, on the whole wisely 
 administered its ecclesiastical supremacy in the West. By the 
 end of the pontificate of Gregory the Great (604) this evolu- 
 tion had become in large measure completed. The primacy of 
 the pope of Rome had become largely accepted in the West; 
 though not recognized in the East, the latter was destined to 
 go its own way with slight connection with the West, although 
 the final separation between the Latin and Greek churches is 
 usually not dated until four centuries later. The missions to 
 the barbarians thrived ; important races like the Anglo- 
 Saxons and the Lombards had been won for the Catholic 
 Church, others would ultimately enter her fold. The doctrine 
 of Purgatory (an intermediate state in which those who are 
 to be ultimately saved are purged of their sins and made ready 
 for Heaven, a process which can be hastened by the sacrifices 
 and prayers of the living) had become accepted. In doctrine, 
 ritual, and organization the foundations of the Medieval Latin 
 Church had been laid. 
 
 The problem of the Latin Church in the Middle Ages can be 
 simply stated. The western world had been overrun by 
 ignorant barbarians whose primitve nature religions readily 
 gave way to the more impressive rites, higher moral ideals and 
 superior culture of the Catholic Church. When all other 
 institutions fell, the Church survived, thanks to the philosoph- 
 ical interpretation of St. Augustine and the constructive work 
 of the popes and other Christian statesmen, and, above all, to 
 the inherent excellence of her spiritual ideals. She was ready 
 to assist the barbarians to conserve values, and to appreciate 
 values more fully. 
 
 What the untamed barbarians needed most of all from a 
 religion was discipline. This the Church afforded, through her 
 
LATIN CHURCH 169 
 
 sacraments, especially penance and the confessional. The 
 sacraments and liturgy were further defined. Some discipline 
 was even maintained over kings and emperors, who were not 
 allowed to forget that they had consciences. The pacificism of 
 early Christianity was obviously impossible for these warlike 
 men who were still half savages. So the Church did what she 
 could to mitigate the evils of warfare. During a portion of 
 the year, at least, men should obey the "Truce of God" and 
 refrain from fighting. The warrior was enthused with the 
 ideals of Chivalry ; his investiture as a knight became a 
 solemn religious ceremony in which he vowed to defend women, 
 widows, orphans, clergy, and pilgrims, and to combat all forms 
 of oppression and injustice. A finer life than one given to the 
 shedding of blood was to be found in the complete devotion of 
 one's self to Christ as a monk or nun. Within the shelter of 
 cloister and cathedral there was opportunity for prayer, 
 pious acts, and cultivation of learning. Monks copied and 
 preserved ancient manuscripts, so that classical learning was 
 not lost forever. They preached to the people, gave them 
 spiritual counsel, and heard their confessions. They main- 
 tained hospitals and orphanages. In connection with abbeys 
 and churches there were schools. When religion declined, 
 new orders arose and vitalized it, of which that initiated by 
 St. Dominic (fl221) was most noteworthy for teaching and 
 scholarship, while that of St. Francis of Assisi (|1226) was 
 famous for simple piety and work among the poor. 
 
 As new learning came in from the East, or was revived by 
 the study of manuscripts that had been preserved in the con- 
 vents, it was interpreted in the light of the Christian religion. 
 Theological questions were debated at length, and the doctrines 
 of Christianity were interpreted, and supported by philosophi- 
 cal arguments. This was on the whole done reverently. For St. 
 Anselm (f 1109) the province of theology was to enable one to 
 understand what one believed, and he set forth arguments for 
 the existence of God, and the incarnation and atonement of 
 Christ. After Abelard (f 1142) (to whom education owes much 
 for the great impetus which he gave to university studies) 
 had marshalled the Fathers in parallel columns and indicated 
 apparent contradictions in them, St. Thomas Aquinas (fl274) 
 showed how, by honestly facing and reconciling such seeming 
 inconsistencies, it was possible to develop coherence and 
 system, and with them, profounder understanding. In his 
 
170 MEDIEVAL CHRISTIANITY 
 
 Summa he worked out the principles of Christian philosophy, 
 and succeeded in giving in the light of the knowledge of his 
 age, a systematic interpretation of the world as a whole, and 
 the place of man and human institutions in it. This philosophy, 
 which still furnishes the basis for the brilliant Neo-Scholastic- 
 ism of our own time, did not long remain a technical abstrac- 
 tion. Dante (f!321) gave it warmth and vitality as well as 
 aesthetic expression in his Divine Comedy. Mystics had per- 
 sonal experiences of union with God, and inspired men to live 
 close to Him. Eckhart (f!327), Tauler (fl361), Suso 
 (f 1366) and John of Ruysbroeck (f 1381) are among the most 
 important besides Thomas a Kempis (fl471) or whoever was 
 the author of the Imitation of Christ a favorite manual of 
 devotion among both Roman Catholic and Protestants down 
 to the present time, 18. 
 
 Medieval civilization had its faults. What civilization has 
 not? But we moderns must not forget that there was a brilliant 
 medieval civilization, great in intellectual achievements, notably 
 in philosophy, theology, literature, and architecture, and that 
 this was chiefly due to the medieval Latin Church. This 
 civilization, too, was cosmopolitan. Latin was the universal 
 language of the learned Occident; there was free interchange 
 of scholarship between the nations. And there was a common 
 religious worship which bound men together as members 
 of the terrestrial portion of the City of God, and made 
 them feel in close intimacy, too, with the saints of 
 Heaven. Consideration of the other world, with its ideals of 
 purgation from sin for the repentant, condemnation for the 
 unrepentant, and eternal blessedness for the redeemed, was 
 vivid, and did much to inspire men to livelier faith and more 
 devotion to pious works. In no other period in history has 
 organized Christianity been so dominant in human life ; in the 
 ancient world it had to compete with paganism ; in the modern 
 world its coherence and internationalism have been sundered 
 by sects and it has had to compete with scientific and other 
 secular interests. 
 
 After the thirteenth century, the medieval Latin church 
 passed into a state of decay from which it was only rescued 
 by the Catholic and Protestant Reformations of the sixteenth 
 century. The very head of the church, who should have been 
 faithful to his duties as "vicar of Christ" and "servant of the 
 servants of God," was sometimes either a moral profligate, or 
 
LATIN CHURCH 171 
 
 the intriguing prince of a petty Italian state with no con- 
 ception of his apostolic responsibilities, or so extravagant a 
 lover of luxury and the advancement of the fine arts that he 
 connived at the sale of indulgences in a morally vicious way 
 for the sake of revenues. With such examples in the see of 
 St. Peter itself, nunneries sometimes became little better than 
 brothels, monasteries centers of sloth and vice, and cathedrals 
 places of corruption. The discipline of the sacraments, which 
 had earlier done much to tame barbarians and to turn their 
 thoughts to spiritual ideals, became the tool by which the 
 credulities and superstitions of the laity could be exploited to 
 the pecuniary benefit of the clergy. By the beginning of the 
 sixteenth century western Christianity had sunk to the low- 
 est depths that it has ever reached. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 * Williston Walker, History of the Christian Church. 
 
 * George Foot Moore, History of Religions, Vol. II. 
 
 * Edward Wa-shburn Hopkins, History of Religions, Chapter XXIV. 
 
 * T. R. Glover, The Jesus of History. 
 
 * G. W. Stevens and E. D. Burton, Harmony of the Gospels. 
 
 * Shailer Mathews, The Social Teachings of Jesus. 
 
 * Lucius Hopkins Miller, Our Knowledge of Christ. 
 
 * B. \V. Bacon, The Making of the New Testament. 
 
 * Nathaniel Schmidt, The Prophet of Nazareth. The Story o/ St. Paul. 
 T. R. Glover, Conflict of Religions Within the Roman Empire. 
 
 A. C. McGiffert, The Apostolic Age. 
 
 C. W. Votaw, History of the Apostolic Age. 
 
 S. J. Case, The Evolution of Early Christianity. 
 
 S. J. Case, The Historicity of Jesus. 
 
 Paul Wernle, The Beginnings of Christianity. 
 
 Albert Schweitzer, The Quest of the Historical Jesus. 
 
 Albert Schweitzer, Paul and His Interpreters. 
 
 H. A. Kennedy, St. Paul and the Mystery Religions. 
 
 Carl Clemen, Primitive Christianity and Its Non-Jewish Sources. 
 
 Adolf Harnack, History of Dogma. 
 
 Joseph Cullen Ayer, Jr., Source Book for Ancient History. 
 
 The Apostolic Fathers. The Ante-Nicene Fathers. Nicene and Post- 
 Nicene Fathers. Hastings' Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics. The 
 Catholic Cyclopaedia. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 THE modern occidental world contains two principal types 
 of Christianity: the modern Roman Catholic church which 
 preserves the main features of the ancient Catholic and the 
 medieval Latin churches, with abuses removed and doctrine and 
 discipline perfected, and is international in its scope; and the 
 various Protestant churches, most of which began as attempts 
 to restore the Christian faith to what it was believed to have 
 been in New Testament times, and which are confined within 
 national boundaries either as state churches or independent 
 denominations. The Roman Catholic church has changed 
 comparatively little since the reforms of the sixteenth century ; 
 the Protestant viewpoints have undergone considerable modi- 
 fication in each century. Each type of Christianity has met the 
 problems and conserved the socially recognized values of the 
 modern world in its own way. In separation each has been 
 able to develop according to its own genius, while it has lost 
 something that the other might have given it, had there been 
 more co-operation between them. 
 
 I The Modern Roman Catholic Church 
 
 The reform of the Latin Church was not completed until 
 after half of Europe had broken away from it as a result of 
 the Protestant Reformation. However, the movement had 
 already begun in Spain in the closing years of the fifteenth 
 century, where, under Queen Isabella and her confessor Ximines, 
 there had been a thorough reform of the monasteries, and pro- 
 vision made for the better education of the clergy and the 
 study of the Bible. 
 
 The reformed spiritual environment of Spain produced St. 
 Ignatius Loyola (f!556) the founder of the Jesuit order. 
 Stirred as a young man by reading the lives of Christ, St. 
 Dominic and St. Francis, and accounts of chivalry, he re- 
 solved to become a knight in a spiritual sense, devoted to the 
 Blessed Virgin Mary. He gathered about him a group of 
 
 172 
 
ROMAN CATHOLICISM 173 
 
 ardent university students and organized a religious society. 
 The members were made loyal and efficient by a discipline 
 modeled after that of soldiers. In place of military drill they 
 conscientiously followed the directions given in Loyola's man- 
 ual of Spiritual Exercises. The systematic cultivation of relig- 
 ious experience according to written directions and under the 
 supervision of a trained spiritual adviser has afforded to 
 members of the Society of Jesus a vital and aggressive Christian 
 life in conformity to the rule of the order and in service of the 
 Church. Through preaching, the confessional, and foreign 
 missions, the Jesuits deepened and purified the spiritual life of 
 Catholic Europe during the sixteenth century. 
 
 The chief faults of the Jesuits were the defects of their 
 qualities. Zeal for the advancement of the Church sometimes 
 led them to political intrigues ; absolute submission to superiors 
 occasionally led to a deadening of individual conscience, and a 
 mechanical performance of actions that were not always right ; 
 rigorous orthodoxy often made them merciless bigots and per- 
 secutors. After a while they became a pest in Roman Catholic 
 countries, and governments were obliged to expel them. Finally 
 the pope had to suppress the order altogether in 1773. It was 
 again revived in 1814. The period of adversity has taught 
 them their lesson ; and nothing but praise is due to the Jesuits 
 of today for the thoroughness of their scholarship, the depth 
 of their piety, and the spirit of service with which they devote 
 themselves to the advancement of religion. 
 
 The awakened conscience of Catholic Europe finally forced 
 the calling of a Council at Trent in 1545. Its sessions con- 
 tinued, with interruptions, until 1563. It gave formulation 
 to the developments of Catholic doctrines during the Middle 
 Ages, and made definite the demarcation between Roman Catho- 
 licism and Protestantism. The name Roman Catholic, properly 
 begins at this time. The deposit of truth vouchsafed by God 
 at the time of the coming of Christ has been preserved partly in 
 the Bible and partly in tradition, and has been interpreted by 
 the Church under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. The 
 abuses of previous centuries were removed. Discipline was 
 restored in monasteries. The abuse of indulgences was stopped. 
 The morality of the clergy was reformed. The confessional 
 was restored to its proper function as the medium through 
 which true contrition finds its reward in merited absolution and 
 is effective as a means of spiritual counsel and guidance. Popes 
 
174 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 and clergy again became men of Christian piety and consecra- 
 tion. The reformation of the church was followed by manifes- 
 tations of a deepened spirituality, first of which was the Span- 
 ish mystical movement iod by Saint Teresa (f!582) and St. 
 John of the Cross (f!591). 
 
 Another Council, called by Pope Pius IX in 1870, settled 
 definitely two dogmas, the infallibility of the pope and the im- 
 maculate conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The former 
 dogma maintains "that the Roman Pontiff, when he speaks 
 ex cathedra, that is to say, when in exercise of the office of 
 Pastor and Teacher of all Christians, in virtue of his supreme 
 Apostolic authority, he defines a doctrine concerning faith or 
 morals to be held by the whole church, by the divine assistance 
 promised him in blessed Peter, he has that infallibility which 
 the divine Redeemer willed that his Church should possess in 
 defining doctrine concerning faith and morals ; and hence, that 
 such definitions of the Roman Pontiff are of themselves and 
 not from the consent of the Church, irreforrnable." The effect 
 of this doctrine is to establish the authority of the pope 
 over that of councils. Moreover his decisions are infallible. 
 There still seems to be the greatest diversity of opinions among 
 Roman Catholic writers just which of the recorded utterances 
 of the popes must be regarded as ex cathedra in this infallible 
 sense; and even whether they are very many or extremely 
 few in number; no list of them has ever been officially an- 
 nounced. 
 
 According to the Roman Catholic doctrine of the Immaculate 
 Conception, the Blessed Virgin Mary was conceived by her 
 own mother St. Anne, free from all taint of original sin; 
 she conceived her Son by the miraculous action of the Holy 
 Ghost, and she remained a virgin her life long, free from sin. 
 To her, accordingly, special honors (hyperdouleia) are due, 
 exceeding those of the saints (douleia) ; yet prayer (latreia) 
 is not offered to her, but to God above. 
 
 The Roman Catholic systems of doctrine and of ecclesias- 
 tical organization are fairly fixed, but are not absolutely 
 rigid. The various creeds and decisions of councils and pro- 
 nouncements of popes furnish a divinely directed and infal- 
 lible interpretation of the original deposit of truth. But, 
 just as our American federal Constitution wilj always require 
 new interpretations as new conditions arise, and as points 
 now doubtful will some time probably need to be settled by 
 
EARLIER PROTESTANTISM 175 
 
 the Supreme Court ; so future popes will render new decisions, 1. 
 Considerable flexibility is allowed by the admission that pre- 
 sentations of unchangeable truths must differ with the ages, 
 just as dress changes; in future generations it is conceivable 
 that popes may decide that much is "dress" which most Catho- 
 lics now suppose to be infallible truth itself. It is safe to pre- 
 dict that Roman Catholic dogma will have no serious difficulty 
 in adjusting itself to any future scientific or historical dis- 
 coveries that will ever be made, much as the theologians will 
 always contend against such new theories as at first appear to 
 be in conflict with the old faith. Very great changes could be 
 made in ecclesiastical organization, and in general policies, 
 should they ever be required. Future clergymen might be per- 
 mitted, to marry ; mass might be said in vernacular tongues. 
 
 The Roman Catholic church is quick to adapt itself to 
 changed political and social conditions. In the United States, 
 for instance, its conscience is thoroughly aroused to the social 
 and industrial evils of the times. The program of Social Re- 
 construction, by contemporary bishops, is on the desk of every 
 reformer. The work of active laymen in such organizations as 
 the Knights of Columbus reveals a splendid spirit of Christian 
 service, and shows that a Church that once inspired her young 
 laymen to higher ideals by the institution of chivalry has not 
 lost her resourcefulness in attracting young men. 
 
 The hasty attempts of impetuous radicals to introduce new 
 scientific, historical, and philosophical views into the faith 
 of the Church before they had become properly assimilated 
 led to the condemnation of Modernism by Pius X. The theo-^ 
 logy of the Church is in an orthodox manner becoming inter- 
 preted and adapted to the knowledge of our age by the brilliant 
 s'chool of Neo-Scholasticism. The University of Louvain and 
 Cardinal Mercier have been prominent in this work. 
 
 II The Earlier Protestantism 
 
 The great Protestant revolts which permanently separated 
 the peoples of northern and a part of central Europe, from 
 the Latin church, though foreshadowed by earlier movements 
 such as those led by Wyclif (f!384) and Huss (f!416), 
 began in 1517 with Martin Luther (f!546), and took place 
 during the course of the sixteenth century. Roughly speaking, 
 each movement may be said to have passed through four phases. 
 (1) Abuses in the Church (like the sale of indulgences in the 
 
176 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 case of Luther) led to vigorous protests, and a call that the 
 church authorities correct these evils. This was not done 
 promptly, and the reformer proceeded to insist upon further 
 changes in discipline, doctrine, or ritual in order to render such 
 abuses impossible. (2) These further changes were not made, 
 and the reformer soon found himself rejecting the absolute 
 authority of the Church, and appealing to his countrymen to 
 examine the merits of the issue for themselves. (3) The result, 
 when the movement was successful, was the organization of a 
 new religious society, independent of the Latin church. (4) 
 When still more radical innovators appeared, often with fan- 
 tastic and extravagant proposals, the earlier reformers found 
 it necessary to perfect standards of authority for the guidance 
 of their own churches. These standards proved to be almost 
 as dogmatic as those of the old church had been. 
 
 Several general characteristics hold for nearly all Protest- 
 ants of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Their ultimate 
 source of authority was the Bible which, as emphatically as 
 the Church of Rome itself, they affirmed to be infallible. They 
 insisted, however, that their own interpretations of the Bible 
 were correct; and that the Roman interpretation was wrong 
 in affirming the authority of church traditions, and of the pro- 
 nouncements of Fathers, councils, and popes. They rejected 
 the Latin translation of the Bible made by St. Jerome from 
 the viewpoint of the ancient Catholic Church of his time. They 
 construed the original Hebrew and Greek texts in their own 
 fashion. Whether they actually got any nearer to the spirit 
 of the original Scriptures is a question on which critical 
 scholars still disagree almost as much as conservative Catholic 
 and Protestant theologians. 
 
 The Protestant reformers, at any rate, succeeded in rendering 
 the Bible messages more suggestive and helpful to the men of 
 their own age, nations, and temperament. Protestantism then, 
 and ever since, has been organized in churches that are confined 
 within a single state, and so reflect national characteristics more 
 completely, an undoubted advantage for the Germanic and 
 Scandinavian races, whose psychology is markedly different 
 from the Latin races who adhered to the old Church. The 
 Protestant churches all asserted the value of the experience of 
 the individual in his personal and private relation to God. So 
 Protestantism is highly individualistic; each man gains salva- 
 tion by the grace of God afforded to him directly. Five of 
 
CONTINENTAL PROTESTANTS 177 
 
 the sacraments and all of the sacramentals were abolished as 
 unscriptural and unnecessary; only Baptism and the Lord's 
 Supper were retained. These last two were variously inter- 
 preted ; but the notion of a physical miracle was usually 
 abandoned, and their significance made purely spiritual. The 
 Quakers eliminated sacraments altogether, insisting that no 
 material media should be employed in the purely spiritual 
 worship of God. In brief, in opposition to the Latin church, 
 which insisted that the individual could only be saved through 
 the reception of miraculous sacraments administered by priests 
 in apostolic succession in a universal and infallible church, 
 Protestants claimed that salvation is vouchsafed by the individ- 
 ual in direct, personal relation to God. 
 
 Having put the individual entirely upon his own responsi- 
 bility before God, instead of allowing him in some measure to 
 share it with his confessor, Protestantism had to afford elemen- 
 tary education in the Bible and in the doctrines of their 
 churches to everyone. So Protestantism did much to make ele- 
 mentary education universal in the countries where it pre- 
 vailed. Roman Catholicism was comparatively more neglectful 
 of education for the masses of the people, but more thorough 
 in its provision of education for the clergy. 
 
 Very few Protestants had any notion of religious toleration, 
 except for their own sects when they happened to be in the 
 minority, until the eighteenth century. The ambition of nearly 
 every sect was to gain control of the government, make their 
 own the official religion, and to proscribe other forms of wor- 
 ship. This was because, as John Cotton, a New England Puri- 
 tan, explained, "There is a vast difference between men's 
 inventions and God's institutions." Since each sect believed their 
 own faith to be God's institution, it was their duty therefore to 
 try to compel other men to conform to the will of God. 
 
 Ill Continental Movements 
 
 Lutheranism became the state religion in northern Germany 
 and the Scandinavian countries. It remained more like the 
 Latin church in its interpretation of the sacraments than other 
 forms of Protestantism. In the Lord's Supper, for instance, 
 Luther believed that Christ is physically present, along with 
 the ordinary elements of the bread and wine (consubstantia- 
 tion, a slightly different view from the orthodox Latin doctrine, 
 of iransubstantiation, according to which the underlying sub- 
 
178 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 stance of the bread and wine becomes transformed into the body 
 and blood of Christ). In close alliance with the political rulers 
 of Protestant Germany, Lutheranism during the sixteenth 
 and seventeenth centuries and even later, looked with disfavor 
 upon the efforts of the peasants, then practically serfs, to gain 
 political and civil rights and to better their economic condi- 
 tion. Lutheranism has always done much to further the cause 
 of education, and to develop sturdiness of character and inde- 
 pendent convictions among its adherents, as well as loyal sup- 
 port of law and order. 
 
 Though the Reformation began in Switzerland, with Zwingli 
 (f!531) the movement there ultimately took its name from 
 John Calvin (f!564) who was long its leader, and who was 
 the most brilliant theologian of the Protestant Reformation. 
 Like Lutheranism, Calvinism affirms justification by faith, that 
 the individual's personal faith alone renders him acceptable to 
 God, (and not his performance of penance and other pious acts 
 under the direction of a priest). Calvinism is built upon the 
 dogma of the absolute sovereignty of God, including omnipo- 
 tence, omniscience and eternal justice a common Christian 
 doctrine, but developed by Calvinists with relentless logic to 
 extreme conclusions. Calvinism is often summarized in five 
 points. (1) Every human being, as a descendant of Adam 
 (whom all Christians in those times supposed to be an historical 
 character) is guilty from his birth of original sin, in addition 
 to later sins committed in his own lifetime. A man can do 
 nothing to remove his own sin and guilt ; that can only be done 
 by the grace of God, mercifully vouchsafed to him through 
 the atonement of Christ, and without any merit whatever on 
 his own part. (2) So only those certain persons can be saved 
 (particular redemption) (3) to whom God gives an effectual 
 calling, strengthening their wills, and enabling them to accept 
 salvation. (4) Who shall, and who shall not be saved is thus 
 a matter of divine election, or predestination. (5) God will 
 never fail those who are his elect ; they shall never fall from 
 ultimate salvation (perseverance of the saints). Calvinists in- 
 sisted with great heat, and endeavored with much subtilty to 
 demonstrate, that their doctrine fully provides for human free- 
 dom, and that God is in no way responsible for human sin. 
 
 Calvinism did not seem harsh to its adherents in the six- 
 teenth and seventeenth centuries. They were looking for a the- 
 ology that would assure their independence of the authority of 
 
CONTINENTAL PROTESTANTS 179 
 
 Rome and of the medieval system of sacraments. This doctrine 
 was satisfactory on this score; since one's predestination is 
 in the hands of God alone, one does not need a fellow man for 
 confessor. Calvin dispensed with a separate order of bishops, 
 maintaining that in the New Testament "bishop," "presbyter" 
 and "deacon" are synonymous terms, and refer to officers 
 voluntarily chosen by the members of the local church. Calvin- 
 ism carried this idea of self-government over to political insti- 
 tutions, repudiating the divine right of'the king as well as that 
 of the bishop. It did much to develop conceptions of popular 
 government in both church and state in Switzerland, Holland, 
 and Great Britain, countries in which it became the dominant 
 theology. It also had many followers in France (the Huge- 
 nots) and in parts of Germany, (where it was known as the 
 "reformed" faith in opposition to "evangelical" Lutheranism) . 
 
 Calvinism did much for education, both of the ministry and 
 the laity. Its subtle theology furnished inexhaustible themes 
 for discussion in sermons and praver meetings. To it the 
 Scotch owe much of their famous skill in metaphysics ; the same 
 is true of American divines prior to the Revolution. Calvin- 
 ism had remarkable influence in developing extreme independ- 
 ence of thought and self-reliance; its adherents, confident of 
 themselves as the elect of God, were bold and courageous fighters 
 for liberty. Independent toward his fellowmen, including his 
 rulers, the Calvinist was humble and grateful in his attitude 
 toward God, believing in his own sinfulness and unworthiness, 
 and his complete dependence on divine love and mercy. Pro- 
 fessor Mecklin has shown that Calvinism is responsible for 
 many American characteristics, including individualism in 
 religion, politics, and business, as well as conscientiousness and 
 ethical idealism, and unfortunately, the defects of these 
 qualities, 2. 
 
 Three other Protestant movements on the continent of 
 Europe require notice. The Arminians (named from one of the 
 earlier leaders of the movement Jacobus Arminius f!609, pro- 
 fessor in the University of Leyden) published a "Remon- 
 strance" against the rigors of Calvinism. While they admitted 
 that men can do nothing good of themselves apart from divine 
 grace, they thought that God has left men free to accept or 
 reject the atonement of Christ. It is only by reason of this 
 omniscience that God can be said to have known when He 
 created mankind who would choose to accept Christ. Armin- 
 
180 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 ianism laid less stress on systematic theology and more upon 
 Christianity as a force for moral transformation. It was a 
 heartening faith to those who could not feel sure that they 
 were of the elect ; every one is free to choose whether he will 
 accept Christ and be saved. In abandoning predestination, 
 it had to relinquish full confidence in the doctrine of the per- 
 severance of the saints ; men who have accepted grace may later 
 lose it. So the Arminian was less self-reliant than the Calvin- 
 ist, to whom he seemed weak, emotional, and instable ; while 
 to him the Calvinist appeared harsh and inhuman. Both, as 
 a matter of fact, were usually good Christian men. In the 
 sixteenth century Arminianism had its chief vogue in the Nether- 
 lands. In the eighteenth century it gained a large following in 
 England, both in the state Church, and among the Wesleyans. 
 It has in America been the avowed doctrine of the Methodists, 
 and has been held by many individuals in all the Protestant 
 churches, even those nominally Calvinistic. 
 
 The Anabaptists were in some respects the most consistent 
 of the sixteenth century reformers- in their extreme individ- 
 ualism, 3. They knew no authority except the Bible, and sought 
 to restore the primitive church of the New Testament, as they 
 understood it. To be saved an adult should (1) hear the 
 preaching of the Word, become "regenerated" (that is experi- 
 ence a conscious change of heart and adopt a severely simple 
 life of strict Sabbath observance and abandonment of all 
 worldly amusements), (2) make a public confession of faith, 
 (3) be baptized by immersion, and (4) become a member of 
 one of their churches. Only those members would be saved 
 whose conduct was strictly righteous according to their stand- 
 ards. They discarded infant baptism as unscriptural, and 
 would not unite in the communion service with other Christians. 
 Each of their local congregations governed itself, in com- 
 plete independence from the rest. They thought it wrong 
 to take oaths, bear arms, or take any part in civil govern- 
 ment, thus interpreting New Testament passages quite literally. 
 This movement started in Switzerland, chiefly in Zurich, per- 
 haps a little earlier than the Lutheran reformation in Ger- 
 many. In 1526 the Protestant Zurich government ordered 
 them drowned, and several suffered martyrdom in this manner. 
 Those who escaped became dispersed in Germany and the 
 Netherlands, where they won many converts, in spite of perse- 
 cution by Catholics, who usually burned them, and by Protest- 
 
ENGLISH REFORMATION 181 
 
 ants, who usually banished them. In some respects they are the 
 spiritual ancestors of English speaking Baptists, Congrega- 
 tionalists, and Friends. 
 
 The Socinians pushed certain Protestant principles further 
 than any of their contemporaries. They were regarded with 
 horror by all other Protestants as heretics. Their founder 
 was Fausto Sozzini (f!604), an Italian who found refuge dur- 
 ing the latter portion of his life in Transylvania and Poland, 
 where his views were then more tolerated than elsewhere. The 
 Socinians believed in the supreme authority of the Bible, which 
 they affirmed to be rational in all that it teaches, and which 
 they endeavored at the same time to interpret literally. They 
 rejected predestination and original sin. Men are able of 
 their own free will to accept divine salvation. God gave men 
 the Bible and the life of Christ. The mission of Christ is not 
 to satisfy divine justice but to serve as an example to other 
 men. The Socinians rejected the doctrine of the Trinity. 
 They rejected the deity of Christ, along with his incarnation 
 and atonement; but they accepted the scriptural accounts of 
 his miracles and resurrection, and they observed Baptism and 
 the Lord's Supper in obedience to his commands, without be- 
 lieving them to be supernatural in their operations, but merely 
 symbolical and commemorative. Socinianism was crushed out 
 in Poland, but still survives in Transylvania. Socinians 
 found comparative freedom from persecution in Holland and 
 England, where, though few in number, their writings stimu- 
 lated critical interpretation of the Bible, and not only ultimate- 
 ly gave birth (toward the close of the eighteenth century) 
 to Unitarianism, but to more liberal thinking in the traditional 
 Protestant churches. 
 
 The following facts about all of these movements stand 
 out 'clearly. Sincere Christians in every one of them succeeded 
 in the conservation of values through the dynamic power of 
 Christ. All ultimately found discipline and authority neces- 
 sary to prevent extravagances. None knew how to find a 
 stable basis of authority without assuming the literal infallibil- 
 ity of the Bible, and dogmatically declaring their own interpre- 
 tation of it alone to be correct. Nobody appreciated the merits 
 of other sects and the defects of his own. 
 
 TV The English Reformation 
 The Protestant reformation in England had as its primary 
 
182 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 cause the national love of independence combined with resent- 
 ment at abuses in the Church. The English people desired the 
 independence of their national church from the rule of the 
 papacy, and believed that their own government could and 
 should undertake its reformation. By appealing to these 
 motives Henry VIII induced Parliament in 1534 with general 
 approval of the nation, to pass an act declaring the Icing and 
 his successors "the only supreme head on earth of the Church of 
 England" with power to redress heresies and abuses. While 
 by provoking this revolt Henry was able to gain ecclesiastical 
 sanction for the divorce of his wife and for confiscation of 
 the property of the monasteries, these motives at most consti- 
 tute the reason why the break with Rome came just at that 
 time; entirely apart from them, a rupture before long would 
 have been inevitable. 
 
 In breaking with Rome and asserting the independence of 
 the state Church of England, the royal house was conservative 
 and wished to make no more alterations in doctrine, ritual 
 and organization than would meet with general approval. 
 Under the long reign of Elizabeth (1558-1603) the Church 
 of England gradually assumed the main characteristics that 
 it has permanently retained. The Church is organized under 
 the rule of bishops who claim apostolic succession. The 
 ritual, as outlined in the Prayer Book, retains and emphasizes 
 the more spiritual portions of the Roman liturgy, yet, in the 
 opinion of most Anglicans, it gives them a distinctly Protestant 
 interpretation. As is believed, the service has lost none of its 
 former beauty and impressiveness by being given in English, 
 while it has gained in helpfulness by being intelligible to all. 
 The statement of the doctrines of the church was formulated 
 in Thirty-Nine Articles, which emphasize points common to 
 Calvinists and Lutherans, including justification by faith and 
 predestination, and avoiding the points most in controversy 
 among Protestants in the sixteenth century. The attempt 
 was to allow for reasonable differences of opinion within the 
 national church, so far as practicable, and thus to prevent 
 dissent, and to command the general cordial support and adher- 
 ence of all. This attempt was in so far forth successful that it 
 has always held a large portion, at times the vast majority, 
 and perhaps still a slight majority of the population in 
 conformity to a single church. After the Revolution, the 
 
ENGLISH REFORMATION 183 
 
 American portion of the Church separated, and became the 
 Protestant Episcopal Church. 
 
 The attempt to retain all Englishmen within one Church was 
 by no means wholly successful. While few in the sixteenth and 
 seventeenth centuries objected to the doctrines of the Church 
 of England, a considerable number disliked its ritual and form 
 
 O * 
 
 of government. The more moderate of these remained within 
 the Church, where they agitated for the removal of what they 
 believed to be unscriptural features of the ritual, such as the 
 use of vestments, marriage rings, the sign of the cross, kneel- 
 ing at communion, and the like. There were the original Puri- 
 tans who in these respects aspired to "purify" the Church. 
 Under the leadership of Thomas Cartwright (f!603) they 
 called for the election of pastors by the people of the parish, the 
 appointment of elders, and the essential parity of the clergy 
 (Presbyterianism). They were Calvinists in matters of doc- 
 trine. 
 
 There were also radicals who were impatient for the immedi- 
 ate reformation of the Church of England "without tarrying." 
 Under the leadership of Robert Browne (f!633) and others, 
 these radicals became "Separatists" from the national Church, 
 and organized independent societies. Each of these local 
 churches was a unit in itself, choosing its own pastor, and 
 other officers, and forming its own articles of belief and order 
 of worship. No church had any authority over the other 
 churches ; but all co-operated for common interests. This is 
 Congregationalism. In doctrine they were Calvinistic. Both 
 Puritans and Separatists met with a good deal of persecution 
 under Elizabeth and James I. Some of them, especially Separa- 
 tists, found it necessary to leave England and took refuge in 
 Holland. In 1620, a group of members of this church at Leyden 
 set sail for America in the Mayflower and established Congrega- 
 tionalism in New England, the Pilerrim Fathers. The Puritans, 
 who had remained in the Church of England, found the process 
 of winning others to their side slower than they had anticipated. 
 Charles I was very unfriendly to them ; he gave preference to 
 Arminians over Calvinists in church appointments ; and he 
 reissued the Declaration of Sports of his father, James I, which 
 commended the old Sunday games and dances. Some of the 
 Puritans became impatient, emigrated to America under the 
 leadership of John Winthrop (f!649) and others, and founded 
 
184 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 the colony of Massachusetts Bay. Like the Pilgrims, they 
 organized their churches in the Congregational manner. 
 
 More radical still was John Smyth (f!612) a Separatist 
 minister who went to Holland, came into contact with the 
 Mennonites, and became convinced that infant baptism was 
 unscriptural, and so taught his congregation there. Two of 
 its members, Thomas Helwys and John Morton led a group of 
 the others back to England, where about 1612 they established 
 a Baptist church. The Baptists multiplied ; they ultimately 
 adopted baptism by immersion and refused to participate in the 
 communion service with other Christians. They acclaimed the 
 congregational form of church organization, and usually were 
 Calvinists. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, espe- 
 cially in America, they became almost as renowned as the 
 Methodists for their evangelical revivals. 
 
 In Scotland the Reformation was also a movement for na- 
 tional independence. Against Mary, Queen of Scots, who was 
 French in her sympathies, as well as a determined Roman Catho- 
 lic, John Knox (f 1572) led the cause of liberty under the aegis 
 of Calvinism, and organized the national church on Presby- 
 terian lines, with a minister and lay elders selected by the local 
 congregation to govern its affairs. As the Presbyterian system 
 ultimately developed, the churches in a locality became organ- 
 ized, and their representatives met for conference in "presby- 
 teries"; over these were "synods"; and over all the "General 
 Assembly," the supreme governing body of the whole denomina- 
 tion. Such is also the Presbyterian system in the United 
 States. 
 
 When the Puritans succeeded for a time in gaining control of 
 England, they could not agree among themselves. The West- 
 minster Assembly, composed of one hundred and twenty clergy- 
 men and thirty laymen, was called by Parliament to plan for the 
 reorganization of the national church. It prepared the West- 
 minster Confession of Faith and Catechisms along Calvinistic 
 lines, which were then accepted by Congregationalists and 
 Baptists as well as by Presbyterians. On the restoration of 
 the Stuarts in 1660, the state churches, both in England and 
 Scotland were again made Episcopal in organization. Since 
 the Revolution of 1688, the Church of England has remained 
 Episcopalian, while the Church of Scotland has been Presby- 
 terian. 
 
 During the stormy civil wars in England arose a sect that 
 
THE ENLIGHTENMENT 185 
 
 regard all participation by Christians in warfare as wrong 
 the Society of Friends ("Quakers"). Founded by George Fox 
 (f!691), they believe that Christianity is an inner spiritual 
 experience, that requires little outward formalism. Sacraments 
 are spiritual ; outward elements should be dispensed with. 
 Slavery is wrong. Christians should keep their word ; oaths 
 are superflous. Dress and manners and speech should be simple 
 and unaffected; artificial titles should be abolished. William 
 Penn gained for them the grant of the colony of Pennsylvania 
 in 1681. It is fortunate for America that this colony soon 
 became well established; for the Quakers obtained freedom of 
 worship in England in 1689. Though never numerous, they 
 have exercised a deep influence in the direction of simplicity and 
 spirituality in religion, and in aversion to warfare, slavery, and 
 social cruelties of all kinds. 
 
 V The Enlightenment 
 
 Down almost to the beginning of the eighteenth century, 
 Protestantism continued to be largely medieval in its outlook. 
 To be sure, it was modern in its assertion of the personal rela- 
 tionship of the individual to God, of nationalism and, in most 
 of its forms, of political liberty. But it knew little or nothing 
 of religious tolerance. The great Protestant creeds of the 
 sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were written by men who 
 rejected the Copernican astronomy as unscriptural, and with 
 no notion of the uniformity of natural laws, thought that 
 physical miracles due to the activities of good and bad angels 
 and witches were constantly occurring around them. They 
 firmly believed in the literal infallibility of the Scriptures from 
 cover to cover; their whole theology was based on their belief 
 that God had created the earth about six thousand years ago, 
 and that Adam and Eve had disobeyed him by eating fruit 
 contrary to His express command, and that in consequence of 
 this disobedience no human being can escape an eternity in 
 fire and brimstone except through acceptance of the atonement 
 of Christ in satisfaction of divine justice. Their conceptions 
 were sublimely and beautifully expressed in Milton's Paradise 
 Lost and Paradise Regained. Those who today read these 
 poems as they read Homer and Virgil, as poetical expressions 
 of religious mythology, must remember that to our ancestors 
 they portrayed historic facts. 
 
 Contemporaneous with the rise of the Protestant creeds, 
 
186 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 however, there was developing in science and philosophy a 
 changed view of the world and of human life which became 
 dominant in European thought in the course of the eighteenth 
 century, and has since gradually given to Protestantism a 
 changed outlook. The period of the Enlightenment is usually 
 dated from the publication of Locke's Essay on Human Under- 
 standing in 1690 to that of Kant's Critique of Pure Reason in 
 1781. The movement, however, could not have taken place if 
 it had not been for earlier scientific and philosophical develop- 
 ments. As an outcome of the researches of Copernicus (j-1543) 
 Tycho Brahe (fl601), Galileo Galilei (f!642), and Isaac 
 Newton (f 1727) a mechanical conception of the physical world 
 became accepted by scientists ; the bodies of our solar system 
 move about the sun, and those of other systems about other 
 suns; these movements are subject to the law of gravitation, 
 stated in a mathematical formula. In such a universe Heaven 
 and Hell and the throne of God cannot be put in definite places ; 
 the course of physical events is not interfered with by angels, 
 devils, and witches ; even the bodies of animals and men, as 
 William Harvey (f!658) and Rene Descartes (f!650) 
 showed, are subject to the same mechanical laws as other 
 matter. 
 
 The rapid progress of the sciences had led the philosophers 
 of the seventeenth century to attempt to interpret the world as 
 a whole and the significance of human life along lines suggested 
 by the sciences. Not giving more than lip service to the teach- 
 ings of the churches, as a rule, with characteristic modern 
 individualism, they struck out for themselves to work out 
 methods of investigation and to erect elaborate philosophical 
 systems. The empirical method of Francis Bacon (1*1626) 
 bases all knowledge on experiment and observation. The 
 rationalism of Descartes, in imitation of mathematics, began 
 with simple propositions, whose apparent clearness and dis- 
 tinctness made them appear self-evident, and proceeded to 
 demonstrate their logical consequences. Neither method made 
 use of Biblical revelation and church authority in establishing 
 conclusions. In their own way, though, the great seventeenth 
 century philosophers were almost as dogmatic as their theo- 
 logical contemporaries. Without first testing the powers of 
 the human understanding, they boldly proceeded to work out 
 elaborate systems, in which they thought that they proved and 
 explained the nature of the universe, including God, the soul 
 
THE ENLIGHTENMENT 187 
 
 of man, and everything else. Some of these systems are still 
 of greatest importance ; no one can go far in the understanding 
 of twentieth century philosophy who is not at least acquainted 
 with the thought of Descartes, Hobbes, Spinoza, and Leibniz. 
 
 By the last decade of the seventeenth century, thinking people 
 in England, at least, were ready for a change. With the Revolu- 
 tion of 1688 and the coming of William and Mary to the 
 throne, a new era developed in politics, religion, and philosophy. 
 The authority of the new sovereigns rested frankly on the will 
 of the people and Parliament ; the principle of divine right was 
 abandoned. In religion the government sought to make the 
 Church of England broad enough so that the great majority 
 would be satisfied with it ; they succeeded so well that at least 
 nine-tenths of the population soon adhered to it ; dissenters 
 on the other hand enjoyed wide liberties. Only the handful 
 of Romanists, atheists, and Socinians had much cause for 
 discontent with the existing order. 
 
 The philosophical interpreter of this era was John Locke 
 (fl704). His Essay on the Human Understanding (1690) 
 proclaims the necessity of examining the sources of human 
 knowledge before attempting to theorize on ultimate questions. 
 All ordinary human knowledge comes from simple ideas afforded 
 in the mental processes of sensation and reflection ; there are no 
 innate ideas. Locke thought it possible to prove the existence 
 of God, and he based moral principles upon the commandments 
 of God, although he believed them capable of rational demon- 
 stration. He believed in revelation and the miracles of the Bible. 
 In a later work he affirmed that Christianity is essentially rea- 
 sonable; for nothing in it is contrary to reason, although some 
 truths could not have been known by reason alone, unaided by 
 revelation. In making Christianity reasonable, he discarded 
 much theology, and reduced its fundamentals to acceptance of 
 Jesus as the Messiah and practice of the virtues which Jesus 
 proclaimed ; this is all that is requisite for salvation. It follows 
 that wide toleration should be permitted. He was willing to 
 tolerate Jews and Mohammedans. Locke's philosophy exercised 
 wide influence during the next hundred years. 
 
 Other philosophers soon pushed the philosophy of reason and 
 experience further than Locke had done. Shaftesbury (tl713) 
 removed morality from a theological foundation and based it on 
 the fundamental constitution of human nature, and made it 
 consist of a proper balancing of selfish and social motives. 
 
188 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 Since his time it has gradually become recognized that to know 
 and to act upon principles of right and wrong are not 
 dependent on the acceptance of any kind of religious beliefs ; 
 although, of course, religion furnishes an additional sanction 
 to right conduct. A government can leave all its subjects free 
 to practise any form of religious belief, or none whatever, as 
 they choose ; provided only they live within the limits of moral 
 decency and are not military revolutionists. The Deists, 
 following Locke's doctrine that Christianity is essentially 
 reasonable, proceeded to eliminate miracles and revelation, and 
 to reduce Christianity to belief in God and a few broad prin- 
 ciples that are common to all religions and have always been 
 accepted by thinking men. Hence the titles of Deistic books: 
 Christianity not Mysterious by John Toland (f!722), Chris- 
 tianity as Old as the Creation by Mathew Tindal (f!733), and 
 a Discourse on Free Thinking by Anthony Collins (fl729). 
 The Deists enjoyed little prestige in England, and numerous 
 theologians thought that they successfully refuted them. How- 
 ever, the refutations, most famous among which is the Analogy 
 of Religion by Joseph Butler (fl752), had to combat Deistic 
 arguments by reasoning, not by appeals to the authority 
 and revelation of infallible scriptures ; and in this sense liberal 
 Protestantism ever since has had a fundamentally different 
 attitude from the dogmatic Protestantism of the sixteenth and 
 seventeenth centuries. 
 
 Spinoza, in the previous century, had attacked miracles as 
 impossible in a world governed by uniform laws ; his attack had 
 been ignored, however. The assaults of the Deists were supposed 
 to have been disposed of by Butler. But David Hume (f 1776) 
 while exercising Enlightment caution regarding the limits 
 of human knowledge and the impossibility of making absolute 
 assertions, pointed out that the reports of the occurrence of 
 miracles furnished by witnesses must always appear unlikely 
 to any one who candidly examines them, since experience finds 
 the uniformity of nature much more dependable than the 
 accuracy of human testimony. To Hume also belongs the 
 credit, in his Natural History of Religions, of showing that 
 religion has passed through periods of development, polytheism 
 having preceded monotheism. Edward Gibbon (f!794) 
 endeavored to account for the spread of Christianity in the 
 ancient world by natural causes. Crude as many of Hume's 
 and Gibbon's explanations now appear, they in some measure 
 
EVANGELICAL REVIVAL 189 
 
 foreshadow the comparative and psychological methods now 
 employed in the study of the history of religions. 
 
 Since the time of Hume, liberal Protestants have defended 
 Christianity on the grounds of its reasonableness and its corrob- 
 oration by the experience of religious people of the dynamic 
 power of Christ in their lives. So far as they have continued 
 to defend physical miracles and miraculous revelation at all, 
 it has been as corollaries from the general standpoint of liberal 
 Christian doctrines ; and it is probable that belief in neither 
 would today be insisted upon by any liberal Protestant minister 
 as a necessary qualification for lay membership in his church. 
 What is regarded as more important for church membership 
 is faith in God, and some personal experience of the dynamic 
 power of Jesus Christ in one's life. 
 
 The permanent contributions of the Enlightenment to the 
 progress of religion were tolerance and intellectual honesty, 
 and the elimination of superstitions like witchcraft. There 
 must be utmost freedom of discussion in religion, and what in 
 it is true will stand fearless analysis. The immediate influence 
 of the movement, however, was destructive rather than construc- 
 tive. It tended to undermine faith in the religious belief of the 
 times without offering anything in its place. Its influence was 
 chiefly confined to the more highly educated classes, and it 
 hardly reached the masses of the people anywhere. 
 
 VI The Evangelical Movement 
 
 It was probably inevitable that the Enlightenment should 
 have lacked religious fervor. The religious wars on the Conti- 
 nent and the Puritan disorders in England during the seven- 
 teenth century led the men of the early eighteenth century to 
 regard all religious emotionalism with stern disfavor. Deep 
 religious feelings appeared inevitably to result in bigotry and 
 fanaticism, and attempts to impose one's religion forcibly upon 
 others. So even divines in the churches vigorously denounced 
 the wickedness and folly of "enthusiasm," 4. Tolerance could 
 only come with clear thinking, and men cannot think clearly 
 when their emotions are unduly aroused. A period of religious 
 apathy was probably necessary until the spirit of toleration 
 might become established; but it can only be defended as a 
 temporary necessity in a time of transition, 5. 
 
 Many of the intellectual classes in England had become 
 indifferent to religion by the end of the first quarter of the. 
 
190 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 eighteenth century. Even ministers preached coldly intellectual 
 sermons on the moral virtues, which lacked the dynamic warmth 
 and power of Christianity at its best. Large numbers of the 
 poorer classes were not reached by the churches at all. Their 
 moral condition was wretched; their amusements were coarse; 
 drunkenness was the chronic condition of many. 
 
 In 1729 a little club of students was formed at Oxford of 
 which John Wesley (fl791), his brother Charles (f!788), and 
 George Whitefield (fl770) afterwards became famous. They 
 were nicknamed the "Methodists" from their systematic culti- 
 vation of religious practices. They visited the prisoners in 
 jails, which then were in a frightful condition, and did what 
 other philanthropic work they could. The Wesley brothers 
 and Whitefield presently went upon missionary tours to 
 America. Each of the Wesleys, under Moravian influence, exper- 
 ienced "conversions" of the extreme type (see Chapter XV). 
 They became convinced that this was the normal mode of 
 becoming Christians. The Wesleys developed the methods of 
 evangelicalism (so called because persons were "converted to the 
 Gospel") and perfected a technique of revivalism. The Wes- 
 leyan movement began and long remained within the Church 
 of England ; but as time went on and the societies of Wesleyan 
 converts multiplied, it became difficult to obtain ordained 
 clergymen to administer the sacraments to them all, particu- 
 larly in America. So John Wesley and his friend, Thomas 
 Cokel (f 1814) though only Anglican priests, assumed the role 
 of bishops and ordained clergymen for America in 1784. They 
 thus broke with the Church of England, and Methodism has 
 ever since been an independent denomination in both countries. 
 The revival methods were effective in converting many people 
 who could not have been reached by any other means then 
 available. The organization of the Methodist churches con- 
 tinues to be very effective for reaching large numbers of people 
 in mass movements, and the spirit of the denomination has 
 always been extremely simple and democratic. More Protes- 
 tants today in the United States belong to the Methodist 
 denominations than to any other group. 
 
 The evangelical movement was by no means confined to those 
 who ultimately formed the Methodist church. The evangelical 
 methods were imitated in a more conservative manner by minis- 
 ters who remained within the Church of England. They were 
 also copied by the various dissenting denominations Baptists, 
 
PHILOSOPHICAL MOVEMENTS 191 
 
 Congregationalists and Presbyterians. These three denomina- 
 tions made wide use of them in America, where most accessions 
 to Protestant non-ritualistic churches were long chiefly made 
 in this manner. 
 
 The evangelical movement though little interested in theo- 
 logical questions, was none the less conservative. It did not go 
 beyond Locke in radicalism. It insisted on literal acceptance 
 of scriptural passages ; among Methodists and Disciples it was 
 ultra Protestant in believing that any layman can sufficiently 
 interpret and understand the Bible for his needs. Evangelical 
 ministers even, especially in America, often possessed more piety 
 than erudition. The destructive criticism of the Enlightenment 
 was little understood, and intolerantly denounced as 
 "infidelity" ; Puritan opinions on the wrongfulness of dancing, 
 theater going, card playing, and all Sunday amusements were 
 retained. 
 
 With all its limitations, however, evangelicism probably 
 saved the day for Protestantism in England and America in 
 the eighteenth century. The viewpoints of earlier Protes- 
 tantism were no longer appealing to the masses ; the Enlighten- 
 ment was weakening the hold of religion on the intellectual 
 classes. A simple, popular emotional movement was a necessity 
 of the age. Similar movements occurred in the Protestant 
 portions of continental Europe, and began even earlier with the 
 rise of such sects as the Pietists and Moravians. 
 
 VII Constructive Tendencies in Philosophy 
 
 The influence of science and philosophy upon religion during 
 the Enlightenment, as we have seen, was clarifying and 
 promoted tolerance, but lacked warmth and devotion. The 
 evangelical movement rekindled the fires of devotion, but was 
 reactionary from an intellectual standpoint. The problem of 
 liberal Protestantism ever since, therefore, has been how to 
 gain light and heat at the same time, how to face the truth 
 with Enlightenment candor and yet to conserve evangelical 
 fervor. Various philosophical movements have helped to solve 
 the problem. These can here only briefly be sketched. 
 
 The Enlightenment view of religion itself proved capable of 
 acquiring warmth during the latter half of the eighteenth 
 century. This is notably true in the case of Rousseau (tl778), 
 who represents the transition from the Enlightenment to the 
 
192 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 Romantic movement. Though Rousseau's "Confession of the 
 Savoyard Vicar" in Emile is a form of Deism not greatly 
 different from the views of Voltaire, it is set forth with fervor 
 that showed that liberal religious views can be expressions of 
 the heart as well as the head and so have dynamic power. 
 
 In reaction against the skepticism of Hume, there appeared 
 in Scotland the philosophy of "common sense," or "intuition- 
 ism," which maintained that intellectual and moral principles 
 disclosed by introspection must be true and correspond to real 
 objects in the outer world. This philosophy was not profound, 
 but it appeared to be sensible, and seemed to place moral and 
 religious principles on a solid foundation. It was more 
 intellectual and tolerant than evangelicalism, but did not antag- 
 onize it. It was long the prevailing philosophy in Scotland, 
 and America. Among its most noted Scottish exponents were 
 Thomas Reid (f!796), founder of the movement; Dugald 
 Stewart (f!828) and Thomas Brown (fl820). In the United 
 States, the names of James McCosh (fl894) and Noah Porter 
 (f!892) are still remembered. This form of philosophy has 
 now been generally superseded. 
 
 The Romantic movement in literature and art had as one of 
 its phases a revival of interest in the Middle Ages. The poetry 
 of Scott and Tennyson and the pre-Raphaelite school of art 
 are illustrations of this tendency. Conservatives in the Church 
 of England became alarmed at the rapid spread of destructive 
 Enlightenment conceptions, as well as the increase in numbers 
 and influence of non-conformists, the gain in political power 
 of the laboring classes and the increasing strength of democ- 
 racy and other disturbing tendencies of the times. Aesthetic 
 charm and fear of innovations thus combined to attract 
 Anglicans of a certain type to the rites and beliefs of the 
 English church in pre-reformation times. A few of the more 
 extreme participants in this, which is known as the "Oxford 
 Movement" under the leadership of John Henry Newman 
 (f!890) became adherents of the Roman Catholic Church, 
 which gained new vitality in England, and has been growing 
 there ever since. The others, notably John Keble (fl866) 
 and Edward Bouverie Pusey (f!882) remained within the 
 Church of England, of which they and their successors have been 
 the High Church or Anglo-Catholic party. They have done 
 much to beautify the ritual of the Church, and have been active 
 in helping the poor and neglected classes and in bringing them 
 
PHILOSOPHICAL MOVEMENTS 193 
 
 into active communion with the Church. They have to some 
 extent revived Catholic usages, such as penance and confession. 
 A similar movement has been going on in the American 
 Protestant Episcopal Church. In the matter of enrichment of 
 church worship but not in doctrine and discipline the non- 
 ritualistic denominations of Great Britain and America have 
 followed this movement at a distance. Organs, chants, stained 
 glass windows, written prayers, responsive readings, recitations 
 of creeds, and various other embellishments of worship that 
 would have been condemned by our Puritan and evangelical 
 fathers as popish and unscriptural have been found to be not 
 only aesthetically pleasing, but also spiritually helpful. 
 
 More constructive on the intellectual side have been the 
 movements in philosophy, theology, and historical criticism, 
 which had their origin in Germany and at first appeared disin- 
 tegrating, but now seem to liberals to have put Protestant 
 Christianity on firmer ground than it ever stood before. 
 
 Immanuel Kant (f!804) is usually believed by philosophers 
 to have shown that intellectual demonstrations of the ultimate 
 character of the universe, the existence of God, the freedom of 
 the will, and the immortality of the soul, are impossible. The 
 world as we experience it in space and time, subject to the laws 
 of mathematics and physics, has no place for such conceptions. 
 But the world of science is not the whole world. It is, in fact, 
 in a profound sense, the construction of our own minds; and 
 what the world may appear to be to minds differently consti- 
 tuted than we, is unknowable to us. However, the world in 
 itself may very well be a world in which God, freedom and 
 immortality prevail. This is at least a theoretical possibility. 
 But much more than this can be said. The principles of 
 morality, which are self-evident when morality is subjected to 
 rational criticism, and which are presupposed in all our judg- 
 ments of right and wrong, imply our presence in a world of 
 freedom, immortality and God. Thus what on merely intel- 
 lectual grounds remains uncertain though possible must on 
 moral grounds be assumed to be true. Thus Kant has, as he 
 said, "destroyed [intellectually certain] knowledge to make 
 room for faith" (based on moral experience and logical 
 reasoning.) Tennyson's philosophy of religion is very largely 
 Kantian in spirit and so, in less measure, are those of Words- 
 worth and Coleridge. Through them Anglo-Saxon Protestants 
 
194 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 have probably assimilated more of Kant than through study 
 of him directly. 
 
 J. G. Fichte (f!814) who began as an ardent disciple of 
 Kant, but subsequently developed an idealistic system of his 
 own, in which knowledge of the moral nature of the universe 
 and the existence of God are more positively affirmed, has 
 exercised a considerable influence on literary men in England 
 and America, especially Carlyle and Emerson, and through 
 them, upon religious thinkers. 
 
 G. W. F. Hegel (fl831) taught that the universe is the 
 expression of the Absolute (usually interpreted as God) 
 through struggle and effort in accordance with logical prin< 
 ciples. God thus comes to self-expression in the various stages 
 of the world order. The duty of finite beings is to realize their 
 relationship to God ; this is religion. Every religion is in some 
 measure an attempt to gain this relationship, and is true in 
 some degree ; Christianity is the most complete religion. In all 
 religions the Absolute is presented figuratively and sym- 
 bolically ; philosophy furnishes a more adequate interpretation 
 for intellectual purposes. Hegel's philosophy had considerable 
 influence on some of the German theological scholars of the 
 next generation, by reason of its suggestion that all religions, 
 including Christianity, are subject to laws of development that 
 are logical and rational. He also has bad large influence on 
 philosophy in England and America, where the neo-Hegelians 
 were in the great majority for the last quarter of the nineteenth 
 century, and where they still exert wide influence. The Hegelian 
 philosophy is not easily susceptible of literary expression ; but 
 the poetry of Robert Browning is largely Hegelian in its point 
 of view, and has had wide influence on ministers, and through 
 them on their congregations, 7. 
 
 Most important of all in his influence on Protestant theology 
 is Friedrich D. E. Schleiermacher (f!834). He took much 
 from the other great German philosophers and, being as a 
 minister and professor of theology primarily interested in 
 religion as they were not, his adaptation of German idealism 
 to the requirements of religion is more satisfactory. God is 
 absolute and eternal, but immanent in the world; man in his 
 finitude and mortality is dependent on Him. Man in all 
 religions seeks and partially succeeds in finding union with 
 God. The Christian religion is most successful in this endeavor. 
 In Christ is effected the union between the temporal and the 
 
RECENT PROTESTANTISM 195 
 
 eternal, between God and man, and through him it is imparted 
 to others. Doctrines are intellectual attempts to state more 
 fundamental religious truths and experiences; they may 
 continue to change from time to time, and at most are of 
 secondary importance. Religion is an aid to the moral life, 
 which involves man in social relationships. 
 
 Out of the earlier German idealistic philosophy grew the 
 critical interpretation of the development of the Bible and of 
 the origin and growth of Christianity which have, for those 
 who accept it, revolutionized the whole Protestant position. The 
 truth of religion no longer is believed to rest on any absolute 
 authority not even an infallible Bible. God is revealed to 
 men in the Bible and in the life and personality of Jesus Christ, 
 and He guides all who in churches worship Him in spirit and 
 in truth. The religious experience of the individual verifies 
 for him in his own life the faith of his fellow Christians. No 
 doctrines are unchangeable dogmas. With increasing insight 
 afforded by the sciences a broader view of the world is made 
 accessible to man, and larger religious conceptions will interpret 
 this world so that men in it may be of service to the Christ. 
 
 VIII Recent Tendencies in Protestantism 
 
 As a result of the Enlightenment, Socinianism took new form 
 and vigor in England, and became known as Unitarianism, 
 largely under the influence of Theophilus Lindsey (+1808) and 
 Joseph Priestley (f!804). Unitarians reject the doctrines of 
 the Trinity, the deity of Christ, and usually also miracles, and 
 all that appears unscientific or irrational. The movement 
 spread to New England, where its first great protagonist was 
 William Ellery Channing (fl847). In opposition to the 
 rigorous and unfeeling view of the relation between God and 
 man for which the older New England Calvinism had stood, the 
 American Unitarians have insisted on the moral greatness of 
 man. Through good men, chief among whom is Jesus, we come 
 to know God. They have no declaration of faith that is binding 
 upon their members, but a statement that is popular among 
 them affirms belief in "The Fatherhood of God ; the Brotherhood 
 of man ; the Leadership of Jesus ; salvation by character ; the 
 progress of mankind onward and upward forever." 
 
 Though too highly intellectual to appeal to the masses, and 
 always an extremely small denomination numerically, American 
 Unitarianism has included within its membership a great many 
 
196 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 literary men, statesmen, philanthropists, and leaders of social 
 movements. Among these are Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes, Ralph Waldo Emerson, James Russell 
 Lowell, William Cullen Bryant, Bayard Taylor, Nathaniel 
 Hawthorne, Thomas Wentworth Higginson, William D. 
 Howells, Bret Harte, George Bancroft, William H. Prescott, 
 John L. Motley, Francis Parkman, John Marshall, Daniel 
 Webster, Charles Sumner, Horace Mann, and Peter Cooper. 
 Four presidents of the United States have been Unitarians 
 (John Adams, John Quincy Adams, Millard Fillmore, and 
 William H. Taft), while Thomas Jefferson advocated Uni- 
 tarianism, and Abraham Lincoln's religious views appear to 
 have been essentially Unitarian. Among famous Unitarian 
 women may be mentioned Margaret Fuller, Julia Ward Howe, 
 Louisa M. Alcott, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Susan B. Anthony, 
 and Dorothea Dix. 
 
 The chief service of Unitarianism to religious progress 
 has been its criticism of orthodox beliefs. The conserva- 
 tive Protestant denominations, in order to meet the Unitarian 
 challenge, have been forced to become more tolerant and liberal. 
 They have learned to recognize the love of God as much as His 
 justice, the moral worth and possibilities of man as much as 
 his sinfulness, and to reconcile their beliefs with the rapid 
 strides of modern science. The consequence is, that the advance 
 of liberal views no longer gives rise to new Protestant denomina- 
 tions, but to new movements in the older organizations. 
 
 Two such movements deserve special notice. Within the 
 Church of England and the American Episcopal Church there 
 have been a considerable number of <e broad churchmen" in 
 each generation since the movement was initiated in the middle 
 of the nineteenth century by Frederick William Robertson 
 (f!853), Charles Kinsrsley (f!875), Alfred Tennyson (f!892) 
 and others. Great influence at the present time in the English 
 Church is exercised by the group of liberal thinkers who under 
 the leadership of Canon B. H. Streeter have issued a series of 
 suggestive books of which Foundations and Concerning Immor- 
 tality are perhaps among the best known. Among American 
 broad churchmen Phillips Brooks (fl893) has probably had 
 widest influence. 
 
 Another movement, notable in the advance of liberal 
 Protestantism in this country, arose in the Congregational 
 Church under the leadership of Dr. William Jewett Tucker and 
 
RECENT PROTESTANTISM 197 
 
 other professors of Andover Theological Seminary, who advo- 
 cated "progressive orthodoxy," from 1885 to 1892. They 
 succeeded in establishing that progress in theological beliefs 
 may take place within a traditionally orthodox Protestant 
 denomination, 8. 
 
 Within the other great Protestant denominations toleration 
 for liberal thinkers has generally been won. It is probably safe 
 to say, that in all of the larger Protestant churches today with 
 the exception of a few of the oldest and most conservative 
 ministers, a clergyman will gladly welcome into the communion 
 of his church any person of good moral character and ideals 
 who desires fellowship in that congregation and who seeks to 
 make Jesus effective in his own life, be his theological beliefs 
 whatever they may. 
 
 Protestant churches are today awake to moral and social 
 problems to a lively degree. Never, perhaps, since the Reforma- 
 tion, have Protestants felt so keenly that Christianity ought 
 to touch and uplift every aspect of social, political, and private 
 life; that, to express the matter in the terminology of this 
 book, all the socially recognized values of the modern world 
 should be conserved through Christian effort reinforced by the 
 dynamic power of God as revealed in Jesus Christ. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 WILLISTON WALKER, History of the Christian Church. 
 
 *GEORGE FOOT MOORE, History of Religions, Vol. II. 
 
 *EDWARD WASHBURN HOPKINS, History of Religions, Chapter XXIV. 
 
 Roman Catholic: 
 
 *Catechi#m of Christian Doctrine, ordered by Third Plenary Council of 
 Baltimore. (A leaflet for elementary instruction.) 
 *H. B. COXON, Roman Catholicism (The "People's Books"). 
 * JAMES CARDINAL GIBBONS, The Faith of the Fathers. 
 J. H. NEWMAN, The Development of Christian Doctrine. Apologia pro 
 vita Sua. 
 
 THOMAS AQUINAS, Summa (translated by English Dominicans). 
 CARDINAL MERCIER, Manual of Modern Scholastic Philosophy. 
 The Catholic Cyclopaedia; Articles by Roman Catholic writers in 
 Hastings' Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics. 
 
 Modernists: 
 
 GEORGE TYRELL, Christianity at the Cross Roads. 
 *Letters to His Holiness, Pius X, by an American Modernist. 
 *PATJL SABATIER, Modernism. 
 
 Protestant: 
 MARTIN LUTHER, Works. 
 *C. A. BUCHHEIM, Luther's Primary Works. 
 JOHN CALVIN, Works, especially the Institutes. 
 JAMES ARMINIUS, Works. 
 GEORGE P. FISHER, A History of Christian Doctrine. 
 
198 MODERN CHRISTIANITY 
 
 *A. C. McGiFFEHT, Protestant Thought Before Kant. The Rise of Mod- 
 ern Religious Ideas. 
 
 E. C. MOORE, Christian Thought Since Kant. 
 
 *ADOLF HAHNACK, What is Christianity? History of Dogma. 
 W. E. H. LECKY, History of England in the Eighteenth Century. 
 W. H. HITTTON, The English Church (from Charles I to Anne). 
 J. H. OVER-TON, The English Church (from George I to end of XVIII 
 century). The Evangelical Revival. The Anglican Revival. 
 R. W. CLARK, The Oxford Movement. 
 
 WILLISTON WALKER, The Creeds and Platforms of Congregationalism. 
 HENRY C. VEDDER, A Short History of the Baptists (including Ana- 
 baptists). 
 
 ABEL STEVENS, History of the Methodist Episcopal Church. 
 CHARLES A. BRIGGS, American Presbyterianism, Its Origin and Early 
 History. 
 
 The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church of the United States of 
 America. 
 
 American Church History Series, especially Vol. XIII, by L. W. Bacon, 
 "A History of American Christianity." 
 
 *Hastings' Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics. 
 *THE NEW SCHAFP-HERZOG Encyclopaedia of Religious Knowledge. 
 PHILIP SCHAFF, The Creeds of Christendom. 
 
 *Encyclopaedia Americana (for American religious dene linations and 
 movements). 
 
 Philosophical : 
 
 W. WINDELBAND, History of Philosophy. 
 H. HOFFDING, History of Modern Philosophy. 
 
 F. THILLY, History of Philosophy. 
 
 *J. G. HIBBEN, The Philosophy of the Enlightenment. 
 LESLIE STEPHEN, History of English Thought in the Eighteenth Century. 
 L. LEVY-BRUHL, History of Modern Philosophy in France. 
 I. WOODBRIDGE RiLEY, American Philosophy (The Early Schools). 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 CHRISTIANITY AND THE CONSERVATION OF 
 VALUES 
 
 I The Values Which Christianity Has Conserved 
 THE great ethical service which Christianity has rendered 
 has been in the deepening of moral convictions, in making the 
 moral life a concern of the heart as well as of the head, and so 
 imparting dynamic force to moral principles. The means by 
 which this has been done has been through bringing men into 
 contact with God through the matchless personality of Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 Already in the synoptic Gospels, Jesus is presented in all his 
 simplicity and sublimity, in his love, faith, courage, sympathy, 
 humor, 1, and above all, his nearness to God, and his ability to 
 impart to others something of his own strength and insight. 
 The most important moral point in these Gospels is the necessity 
 for ethical inwardness, . Sinfulness has its roots in wrong 
 desires and impulses ; it is unbridled anger that causes murder, 
 lustful thoughts and looks that lead to adultery, light and idle 
 boasting that occasion false swearing and profanity. One 
 must keep his heart pure, be meek, merciful, humble in spirit, 
 a lover of peace and a peace maker; he should fairly hunger 
 and thirst after righteousness ; he should love his enemies and 
 pray for them. If a person has right impulses and desires, and 
 if the sentiments that direct their expression are right, his 
 conduct will be sure to be right. 
 
 Paul and the writer of the Fourth Gospel show that such 
 ethical inwardness can only come through an ethical change of 
 heart, 3, which can be had if a person identifies himself in mind 
 and spirit with Jesus Christ. "As therefore ye received Christ 
 Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and builded up in 
 him," 4. For Paul the essential thing is to be "in Christ," or 
 to have Christ formed in oneself, 5. "Ye must be born anew," 6. 
 Jesus is reported to have said to Nicodemus, while he tells the 
 women of Samaria, "Whosoever drinketh of the water that I 
 shall give him shall never thirst ; but the water that I shall give 
 
 199 
 
200 CHRISTIANITY AND VALUES 
 
 him shall become in him a well of water springing up unto 
 eternal life," 7. Later on in this, the Fourth Gospel, Jesus is 
 the true vine, in whom the believer must abide, in order to be 
 fruitful in the Christian life, 8, and Jesus prays that his follow- 
 ers may all be one in him and God the Father, 9. 
 
 Ethical inwardness, then, is the supreme Christian value; to 
 attain it involves some sort of ethical change of life; and this 
 can be gained through the personality of Jesus Christ. That 
 this is the central contribution of Christianity to the moral 
 advancement of Europe cannot too much be emphasized. Men 
 knew what was right and wrong before Christianity came ; but 
 the old religions had failed to afford the Gentile world dynamic 
 power upon which to draw for strength and resolution in 
 putting this knowledge into practice. The Jews gained this 
 dynamic power through their religion; but not in a manner 
 suited to the needs of Gentiles. Christianity supplied this want 
 for the Gentile world, and it has been supplying it ever since. 
 
 In both the synoptic Gospels and the Pauline epistles, the 
 social character of religion is recognized. In the former the 
 "kingdom of heaven" is a phrase constantly upon the lips of 
 Jesus, which, whatever else he meant by it, implied the associa- 
 tion of believers for mutual helpfulness in their religious life ; 
 in the latter, this association has already become embodied in 
 an institution, the Church. The private experience of the 
 individual and the common experience of the Church for 
 securing and imparting the dynamic power of Jesus are both 
 fundamental notes in Christianity. 
 
 In what particular respects has the moral life of the peoples 
 of western Europe and America been bettered by the conserva- 
 tion of values through the Christian religion? In nearly all 
 respects. Through teaching and worship in Christian churches, 
 schools and homes, each generation has had its attention called 
 to moral values, and has learned in worship to draw on God 
 through Christ for moral reinforcement and consecration in 
 the realization of these values in life and conduct. 
 
 However, it is possible to indicate some details in which the 
 influence of Christianitv has been especially noteworthy. 
 
 First, it has stood emr>haticallv for the purification of home 
 life, and of the relations between the sexes. In the ancient 
 pagan world family life had become seriouslv demoralized. It 
 seems almost to have become the rule rather than the exception 
 in Rome for married people in the course of their lives to divorce 
 
VALUES CONSERVED 201 
 
 and remarry. Among the Jews in the first century a man 
 could divorce his wife for the most trifling causes. Scarcely any 
 one in the pre-Christian world regarded continence for a single 
 man and fidelity to his wife for a married man as moral obliga- 
 tions ; the "single standard" for man was hardly even thought 
 of. Unnatural sexual relations were very common among 
 Gentiles, and met with little protest. Christianity, with its 
 respect for the body as sacred the "temple of the Holy Ghost" 
 in Paul's language has always stood resolutely for the purifi- 
 cation of home life, and for either great diminution of divorces 
 or their abolition altogether. It has brought about general 
 moral and legal condemnation of abortion, infanticide, and 
 unnatural sexual relations, and has made measurable progress 
 in the effort to extirpate these practices. It has made chastity 
 the general practice of womankind, and has succeeded in 
 inducing all men in theory to recognize it as a moral obligation, 
 most men to obey this moral obligation most of the time, and 
 a good many men to obey it all of their lives. Of course great 
 reforms yet need to be made and prostitution is still the scandal 
 of Christendom. But would it be possible to discover any period 
 in the history of any non-Christian Gentile nation that has 
 been as clean in sexual morality as the most degraded period 
 in the history of any Christian nation? 
 
 Secondly, Christianity has been zealous in all forms of 
 humanitarianism. From ancient times it has been active in 
 the preaching and practice of private charities and alms giving, 
 as well as in the establishment of hospitals, schools, and other 
 benevolent institutions. The monasteries and nunneries largely 
 did this work during the Middle Ages. During modern times, 
 especially in Protestant countries, where the church income was 
 largely confiscated at the time of the Reformation, poor relief 
 and other benevolent and educational activities have been 
 largely assumed by the state; but Christian sentiment has 
 supported large expenditures of public money for such pur- 
 poses, and Christian philanthropy has done much to meet needs 
 not yet provided for by the state. The support for social 
 settlements and other forms of private secular humanitarianism 
 in recent times has always chiefly come from persons who owe 
 their philanthropic sentiments to the teaching and influence 
 of Christian churches and homes. 
 
 Thirdly, Christianity has usually stood for social justice. 
 To be sure, this is not true of the early Church a small and 
 
202 CHRISTIANITY AND VALUES 
 
 persecuted sect which was destitute of pecuniary means and 
 political influence; and which, moreover, supposed that the end 
 of the world was ahout to arrive. Consequently we find very 
 little thought of social reform in this world expressed in the 
 New Testament or the early Fathers ; love rather than justice 
 necessarily had to be their theme. But when Christians gained 
 control in the Roman Empire they mitigated the conditions 
 of slavery, abolished the gladiatorial combats, effected the 
 codification of Roman law, and recognized the moral responsi- 
 bility of rulers for the welfare of the people. During the 
 Middle Ages, chivalry and monasticism were agencies of social 
 amelioration, and justice was recognized by the school men as 
 one of the chief virtues. In modern times the churches have 
 usually been awake to the necessity of reforming the social 
 injustices which the conscience of the times recognized to be 
 such. This is certainly true today. Almost all Protestants, 
 as well as Catholics, in the opening years of the twentieth 
 century are keenly interested in political and social reforma- 
 tion; in fact, the present danger seems rather to be that 
 concentration on these questions will too greatly divert atten- 
 tion from cultivation of the spiritual life, which after all, is 
 the chief business of an ethical religion. 
 
 It sometimes is charged against Christianity that it retarded 
 the growth of free institutions by upholding the divine 
 authority of rulers. The duty to obey the powers that be as 
 ordained by God was simply common sense for the humble 
 little Christian congregations of the first century. By the 
 time, certainly, that the Christian church had influence in the 
 ancient world, the imperial authority needed and usually 
 deserved the sanction of religion; moreover churchmen like St. 
 Chrysostom and St. Ambrose did not hesitate to rebuke even 
 emperors when they did wrong. The Middle Ages needed 
 government on an authoritative basis ; the schoolmen were 
 right so far as their political philosophy was of that character. 
 In early modern times the Lutherans, and (owing to their 
 Episcopal institutions which had taken shape under monarchical 
 conditions) Roman Catholics and Anglicans sometimes Avere 
 political reactionaries. However, Calvinists, Arminians, and 
 Socinians, at any rate, were consistent fighters for political 
 freedom, and Anglo-Saxon liberty owes an incalculable debt 
 to them. Grotius, the great founder of international law, was 
 influenced by all three of the sects last mentioned. All forms 
 
VALUES CONSERVED 203 
 
 of occidental Christianity have long since taken the side of 
 liberty. 
 
 Another charge against Christianity is that, during most 
 of its history, partly as an outcome of teaching contained in 
 the New Testament itself, 10, it made for the degradation of 
 woman. She lost the civil rights that she had enjoyed under 
 the Roman empire, and only regained them in the nineteenth 
 century, while political rights have only come to her during 
 the present generation. It is true that Paul, like most Orien- 
 tals, did not have as much esteem for women as the Romans 
 of his generation. This was not true of Jesus, whose practical 
 regard and consideration of women and their devotion to him 
 are certainly stronger evidence than two or three obscure and 
 probably inaccurately reported gospel passages, or the fact 
 that he never married. But it must be remembered that only 
 Roman married women enjoyed any civil rights under the 
 empire; no other women did. And, in purifying home life, and 
 in preaching the single standard to men, Christianity did much 
 to afford to woman the security that means most to her after 
 all. As to the objection that ancient and modern Roman 
 Catholic Christianity taught that celibacy is a more perfect 
 state than matrimony: has this teaching really in any sense 
 degraded the position of women? If a woman marry she is in 
 the holy and sacramental state of matrimony; why is she 
 degraded if other women choose to be nuns? There have been 
 very many female saints, married as well as single, and the 
 adoration of the Mother of Jesus has done much to foster 
 respect for motherhood in general. Think of the Madonnas 
 and children in ecclesiastical art ; have they not inevitably had 
 the psychological effect of making people regard all mothers 
 and their little children with tenderness ? Whether the interests 
 of humanity are better served in the modern world by celibate 
 orders within the Christian church is a debatable question on 
 which Catholics and Protestants will probably never agree. 
 But the value of convents during the conditions of the Middle 
 Aiges cannot reasonably be questioned, and to say that the 
 presence of celibate orders has ever caused married women in 
 Christendom not to be respected is absurd, 11. 
 
 There are two criticisms of Christianity as a conserver of 
 moral values that have more foundation. As early as the time 
 of St. Jerome and St. Augustine, Christians had become indif- 
 ferent to secular learning, believing that "the wisdom of this 
 
204 
 
 world is foolishness with God." Even in modern times both 
 Catholics and Protestants have fought the progress of the 
 sciences whenever new discoveries have threatened the security 
 of dogmas. This chapter in the history of Christianity has 
 been set forth in Andrew D. White's famous History of the 
 Warfare Between Science and Theology. However, as is 
 therein pointed out, the opposition was not due to the Christian 
 religion itself, of which Mr. White was a loyal adherent, but 
 to theologians. 
 
 The other criticism is, that Christians have been bitterly 
 intolerant of one another, an attitude that began as early 
 as the epistle of Jude and culminated in the horrors of the 
 Spanish Inquisition, the massacre of St. Bartholemew, and the 
 persecutions of Catholics in England by Elizabeth and in 
 Ireland by Cromwell and William and Mary. In mitigation of 
 this indictment it can be said that such persecutions were 
 chiefly actuated by political motives and were the work of 
 politicians more often than churchmen. But this is by no means 
 a complete answer. The persecutions were not wholly the work 
 of politicians ; and, even if they had been, it would still be 
 necessary for Christian apologists to explain why the Christian 
 faith has been open to such manipulation. 
 
 The intolerance by Christian orthodoxy of scientific and 
 religious differences of opinion has been chiefly due to what was 
 long a good and necessary characteristic of the religion. Had 
 Christianity been a tolerant religion in ancient times, it would 
 have been absorbed by the pagan mystery religions. Christians 
 then knew no way to preserve the purity of their faith and make 
 it possible for it to perform its mission except by refusing to 
 compromise with, or even to tolerate, rival beliefs and practices. 
 The same was true in early modern times in the case of the 
 Roman Catholics and the various Protestant denominations. 
 
 Christian intolerance was due to confusion of thought. The 
 Enlightenment inaugurated clearer thinking and made it pos- 
 sible for Christians to learn to be more tolerant of one another 
 and of scientific research. Today the victory for tolerance is 
 practically complete. It is probably safe to predict that never 
 again will any religious sect in the Occident suffer persecution 
 provided it preaches and practises the ordinary standards of 
 moral decency ; and that, never again, will scientific scholarship 
 in any field of investigation meet with persecution on religious 
 grounds, 12. The young man or young woman of today need 
 
FUNCTION 205 
 
 have no prejudice against any form of Christianity now prom- 
 inent in the United States on the question of tolerance. 
 
 The clearer understanding of the psychological basis of 
 Christian experience which has now been attained will render 
 intolerance forever impossible, in the future. The intolerance 
 of the past was always due to a confusion between means and 
 ends, in the performance of the function of the religion. 
 
 II The Function of the Christian Religion. 
 
 This leads to a statement of what the function of the Chris- 
 tian religion, psychologically considered, really is, and has 
 always been ; that is, to set before men the matchless personality 
 of Jesus Christ, a personality from whom men may gain a -fuller 
 appreciation of moral values, and a reinforcement of their wills 
 so that they may be able to realize these values in their lives. 
 The whole history of Christianity may be interpreted as a 
 record of the different ways in which men of different ages 
 have worshipped God through Christ, and so have learned to live 
 on a higher spiritual level. To live on this level is the expe- 
 rience which they have called an assurance of salvation or 
 redemption. The various forms of Christian worship 
 ritualistic and non-ritualistic are the different ways in which 
 men of different races and periods have sought to gain this 
 experience. 
 
 Christian intolerance in the past was owing to the failure 
 to realize that this function can be effectively achieved in 
 different ways by different modes of worship, by different 
 forms of ecclesiastical organization and by the acceptance of 
 different creeds. Now it is common knowledge that primitive 
 Christians, Catholics of all ages, and Protestants of all types 
 ranging from Episcopalians to Friends in ritual, and from 
 Presbyterians to Unitarians in creed and ecclesiastical organi- 
 zation, all are able by their own methods to conserve their 
 socially recognized values through Jesus Christ. It is also 
 common knowledge that none of these confessions can either 
 demonstrate the absolute infallibility of its faith for modern 
 conditions or that it is either the original or the metaphysically 
 valid form of Christianity. For if demonstration were possible, 
 after all these centuries of research and controversy, the truth 
 would be generally agreed upon. So, since all Christians must 
 walk by faith and not by demonstration, and since they all 
 
206 CHRISTIANITY AND VALUES 
 
 gain much the same benefits from their religion, it is possible 
 for each to tolerate the rest. 
 
 It perhaps hardly needs to be remarked that while people can 
 get the benefits of the Christian experience by participating 
 in the worship of various churches, that no one can have an 
 adequate Christian experience unless he participates in one 
 of them. There is this much truth in the dogma that there is 
 no salvation out of the church ; no one can obtain and preserve 
 a rich Christian experience by himself; it will be bound to be 
 either narrow, shallow or transient or possibly all unless he 
 avails himself of some form of Christian fellowship. 
 
 It is not of course asserted that the values recognized by 
 the different forms of Christianity are precisely the same in 
 all respects. These have varied in different periods of history, 
 according to the development of civilization and the recognized 
 moral standards of the times. To-day, however, in America, 
 it is beyond question that all prominent Christian churches 
 recognize the important moral values of our age, and that 
 they do much to promote ethical inwardness in them through 
 the dynamic power of Jesus Christ. Any man or woman will 
 be happier individually and more useful socially by becoming 
 identified with one of them. 
 
 Ill Differences Between Christian Denominations 
 
 The differences in values recognized and in the means by 
 which the dynamic power of Christ is rendered available, are 
 greatest between Roman Catholics and Protestants. Modern 
 Roman Catholicism emphasizes loyalty and submissiveness to 
 authority; it is doing a splendid work along these lines in 
 America today in a nation and an age altogether too unre- 
 strained, impulsive and undisciplined. Penance and confession 
 insure, so far as is possible, that an individual will frankly 
 acknowledge his wrong doing, and profit by the advice of an 
 expert in the direction of his religious life. Roman Catholic 
 ritual also has great dignity and aesthetic charm. Protes- 
 tantism, on the other hand, emphasizes individual initiative and 
 responsibility; for it there is no one on earth who can forgive 
 sins, the individual at his own risk and peril must make his 
 personal confession to his God. This develops higher stand- 
 ards for the truly conscientious layman than an authoritative 
 church can well impose on every one; there are no works of 
 supererogation for the Protestant, no one can possibly do 
 
DENOMINATIONS 207 
 
 more than his duty and everyone must seek God's help to do 
 that. The forms of public worship, while less beautiful, are 
 more thought provoking. It is no accident that Roman 
 Catholicism is the faith of the more artistically gifted peoples, 
 and Protestantism of the more intellectual and self-reliant ones. 
 
 The Roman Catholic religion is liable to abuse by those who 
 are not sincere, in a tendency to make worship more a matter 
 of routine than a deep inner experience, and to regard penance 
 as complete if the priest is satisfied ; in times of low religious 
 ideals it has tended to degenerate into legalism and formalism. 
 Protestantism is liable to abuse by the insincere, who, since they 
 do not confess to a priest, experience no real contrition at all, 
 who never honestly face their own shortcomings and seek to 
 overcome them, and whose consciences are so lax that very low 
 standards of conduct seem sufficient. In times of low religious 
 ideals, Protestantism has sometimes degenerated into an arid 
 intellectualism as in Germany and England in the first half of 
 the eighteenth century. At other times it has degenerated 
 into an effervescent emotionalism, in which people "got 
 religion" in revivals without its having any lasting effect upon 
 their characters or bearing any discernible relation to moral 
 conduct. The conclusion clearly is, that an intelligent and 
 sincere seeker after a larger spiritual life can find it in either 
 Roman Catholic or Protestant communions; but that neither 
 is able to prevent the insincere or careless from failing to do 
 so. Neither can be maintained on a high spiritual level except 
 by the constant efforts of its gifted and devout leaders, who 
 must keep in close touch with the dynamic power of Christ, 
 and who, for it, are "the salt of the earth." 
 
 Roman Catholicism and Protestantism thus contain differ- 
 ences in their conceptions of values and of the means by which 
 they are conserved. Each is strong and weak on a different 
 side. Happy is that country where both are represented in 
 large numbers, and engaged in lively but tolerant rivalry. 
 Each is thus stimulated to emulate the good features of the 
 other, and neither can become decadent. 
 
 The differences between the various Protestant confessions 
 respecting values recognized and methods by which the 
 dynamic power of Christ is made available in conserving them 
 are less profound. In some cases they are indeed genuine; 
 the silent worship of the Quaker, the spontaneity of the Meth- 
 odist, the beautiful liturgy and impressive sacramentalism of 
 
208 CHRISTIANITY AND VALUES 
 
 the Episcopalian, and the intellectual sermons of the Congrega- 
 tionalists, the Presbyterians and the Unitarians, though all 
 valuable and effective, do not appeal equally to persons of 
 different native temperaments and educational environments. 
 Protestants undoubtedly lose much in effectiveness by being 
 divided into a multiplicity of sects. In small places many 
 congregations are unable to employ ministers regularly, and 
 salaries are so pitifully small that talented young men often 
 refuse to go into the ministry or to remain in it. Happily 
 movements toward federation of Protestant churches are pro- 
 ceeding rapidly. In Canada the union in a single denomina- 
 tion of Presbyterians, Methodists and Congregationalists seems 
 assured. Various denominations are uniting in Scotland. No 
 union of rival denominations on so large a scale seems likely 
 to occur in the United States in the immediate future, but the 
 Protestant denominations are learning to co-operate for 
 common ends through the Federation of the Churches in 
 America, the Young Men's and Young Women's Christian 
 Associations, the Young People's Society of Christian 
 Endeavor, and other organizations. How far Protestant 
 denominations should permanently remain separate depends in 
 the last analysis upon how far each is conserving unique values 
 that could not be conserved as well or better in a United Pro- 
 testant Church, and whether these values really outweigh the 
 price in the narrower range of outlook and the more restricted 
 form of Christian experience which sects always have to pay 
 for their separateness. The ideal would be the reunion of all the 
 Protestant denominations into a single church in which none 
 of the valuable features of any distinct sect would be lost, but 
 all of these become common property. In view of the extremely 
 individualistic and divisive tendencies of the earlier Protestant- 
 ism this ideal might appear impossible ; but it must be remem- 
 bered that Protestantism has changed its characteristics in 
 considerable measure in each century, and what would have 
 been impossible in the seventeenth century may conceivably 
 come about before the end of the twentieth. 
 
 IV The Finality of the Christian Religion 
 
 In the religions of India, Greece and Rome, as well as in 
 Judaism and Christianity, we have observed large agreement 
 in the recognition of moral values, of what is right and wrong. 
 Truth telling and keeping of contracts; chastity; temperance 
 
FINALITY 209 
 
 in food and drink; control of temper and other impulses; 
 honesty regarding property ; loyalty to kin, friends, and fellow 
 countrymen; wisdom; physical and moral courage; justice; 
 reverence; all these were early recognized to be desirable. 
 Differences in climate and other features of the physical envir- 
 onment as well as in race psychology, and in the intellectual 
 speculations of individual thinkers have naturally led to some 
 differences of emphasis. There is also large agreement on 
 more spiritual values : calmness of mind and imperturbability ; 
 recognition of all mankind as having something in common with 
 one (such as Stoics and Christians expressed in terms of divine 
 fatherhood and human brotherhood); love and forgiveness; 
 fidelity to duty; a clear conscience; and communion with the 
 supernatural Agency both in this life and beyond the grave 
 (differently as all these would be stated in the languages of 
 the different religions). To be sure, ethical values were more 
 clearly analyzed and stated by the Greeks than any of the 
 others. But to a surprisingly large extent there is agreement 
 on what values should be sought. 
 
 On the other hand, there are large differences as to the nature 
 of the Agency conceived, and the means by which the Agency 
 is to be made effective. Here, too, the teaching of history points 
 fairly clearly in one direction. The Agency must both be 
 human, anthropomorphic, like Yahweh and still more like 
 Jesus and the Agency must be superhuman, divine. The 
 Greek and Roman attempts to effect the combination are 
 instructive and pitiful neither Dionysus or Orpheus, nor 
 foreign importations like Attis, Osiris, and Mithra, nor deified 
 Roman emperors, answered. None were human enough, nor 
 good enough, to effect human intimacy and to incorporate the 
 values sought. Brahma was too impersonal ; and every other 
 Hindu deity, like the old Greek gods, embodied too many 
 human frailties. Buddhism in its original form was too nar- 
 row, pessimistic and otherworldly, in the range of moral values 
 that it recognized, and it afforded insufficient aid to the indi- 
 vidual worshipper in his endeavor to gain them. Yet such an 
 Agency at once human and divine was everywhere sought. 
 
 It is easy to be prejudiced in favor of one's own religion. 
 But in Christianity have we not, in the personality of Jesus 
 Christ such an Agency as all the other religions noticed 
 (except perhaps modern Judaism) have less successfully 
 sought? Jesus of Nazareth is human, thoroughly human, in 
 
210 CHRISTIANITY AND VALUES 
 
 complete contact with human weaknesses and needs, and yet 
 personally free from guilt and sin, so that he can stand forth 
 as a model of what all men would like to be, and so can gladly 
 imitate. In order to accept this assertion, the reader need 
 not be orthodox. The orthodox Christian believes that Jesus 
 Christ was absolutely sinless, and that in Him was embodied 
 every human perfection. A liberal Christian is not troubled 
 by alleged imperfections in the character of the historic Jesus, 
 that he was inferior to Buddha in unruffled serenity of spirit ; 
 that he was intolerant in his attitude toward the Pharisees ; that 
 he was inferior to Socrates in his appreciation of the virtues 
 of citizenship and social justice; that he did not realize so 
 clearly as Buddha and Mohammed the harmfulness of all indul- 
 gence in intoxicating liquors; that he overemphasized the 
 feminine virtues ; that he was too much preoccupied with ideas 
 of a supernatural intervention by God in his behalf to realize 
 the necessity of moral and social evolution in this world. These 
 and other criticisms have been urged against Jesus. It is not 
 necessary to defend Jesus here. These charges and others 
 have been fairly considered by Dr. Hastings Rashdall, to whose 
 Conscience and Christ anyone interested is referred. Even if 
 all such criticisms were to be accepted without protest, the 
 character of Jesus would still remain superior to that of any 
 other historical or mythical founder, hero, or saint of any 
 other religion known to man. What such figure does not 
 reveal greater faults? It therefore follows that Christianity 
 has a tremendous advantage over its rivals in the personality 
 of its Founder who more fully expresses and embodies the 
 moral values recognized by all ethical religions than any other 
 historical or mythological personality, 13. 
 
 For this reason it is probably safe to predict that through 
 the personality of Jesus, Gentiles will in the future chiefly seek 
 to come into contact with the divine. Through him they will 
 secure the conservation of their moral values. 
 
 It can be frankly admitted that other religions have recog- 
 nized a few values more adequately than Christianity has yet 
 done. That has always been true of Christianity. From the 
 very outset it has had to assimilate valuable features from other 
 religions. It got most of its theological conceptions from 
 Greek philosophy. In part it got its sacraments and much 
 of its conception of divine communion from the ancient mystery 
 religions. It got its form of government from the Roman 
 
FINALITY 
 
 Empire. Its contact with the Barbarians taught it to idealize 
 relations of war and love in terms of chivalry, romantic love 
 and sacramental marriage. From the Jew, it still has to learn 
 to appreciate more fully family loyalty and devotion, and from 
 him it may yet be able to borrow the Passover as a sacrament 
 of family worship, modified to meet modern conditions. From 
 the Confucian, Christian youth must learn reverence to their 
 elders, a virtue sadly lacking in Western lands, and very 
 inadequately conserved at present by the Christian religion. 
 From Buddhism, Christianity probably must learn to find the 
 good and evil consequences of conduct automatically working 
 themselves out in human life without the interposition of a 
 theistic God external to life itself; although in assimilating 
 this, Christianity must not lose its own idea of atonement. 
 From Greek philosophers and modern life Christianity must 
 learn to think out moral problems in terms of citizenship, 
 social service, and democracy. Its very God must cease to be 
 a king, and become a democrat. But all these and other lessons 
 Christianity will be able to learn far more quickly and com- 
 pletely than any of its rivals can do. It already knows more 
 values than any of them. In the personality of Jesus Christ 
 and in the fellowship of the Church it has a central core that 
 is sound and firm, and that makes possible indefinite assimila- 
 tion and growth. It has for nearly twenty centuries been the 
 faith of most of the progressive and forward looking nations ; as 
 their civilizations have advanced, organized Christianity has 
 advanced with them, and though not without defects, it has 
 on the whole been the strongest factor for the conservation of 
 their recognized moral values, 14. It now has a vast heritage 
 of moral insight and experience, which it knows how to pass 
 down to succeeding ages. 
 
 Here, too, we find the justification for Christian missions. 
 The oriental nations and the nature races of the world are 
 rapidly assimilating occidental civilization. This forces upon 
 them a multitude of moral problems with which their own 
 religions are unprepared to grapple. It therefore is the duty 
 of Christian nations to send representatives of our religion 
 along with the commercial agents who introduce to them our 
 commodities, and the financial agents who seek concessions for 
 the exploitation (in a good, let us hope, as well as a bad sense) 
 of their countries. There can be little doubt that nature folk 
 and outcastes will be greatly benefited by becoming Christians, 
 
CHRISTIANITY AND VALUES 
 
 provided, of course, that Christianity is presented in a simple 
 form to them, suited to their understanding and needs. Both 
 in the recognition of values and in the means for conserving 
 them it will be bound 10 raise their condition immeasurably. 
 It is less certain that cultivated adherents of the higher 
 religions of the East will decide to abandon their own faiths 
 for that of Christ. But even if they should determine to 
 persist in the religions of their fathers they will need to learn 
 much from the experience of Christian churches in order to 
 adapt themselves to the problems which Western civilization 
 is forcing upon them. It is therefore our duty to send mission- 
 aries to them in order to give them the opportunity, either to 
 accept Christianity or to adopt from it such features as they 
 need for the adaptation of their own religions to new 
 conditions. 
 
 But is Christianity ultimately true? In a strictly meta- 
 physical sense, the author supposes that it must be said that 
 no religion can claim ultimate truth. All try to express by 
 means of symbols what is infinite and unknowable, as well as 
 what is knowable, but has not yet become scientific knowledge. 
 But the symbols of Christianity have proved their adaptability 
 to twenty centuries of more varying conditions than ever con- 
 fronted any other religion (except the Jewish), and they have 
 grown and become enriched in the process. It seems 
 safe to conclude, therefore, that Christianity, which symbolizes 
 more truth for more races and more environments than any 
 other, is the closest approximation to absolute truth which 
 can be attained by the mind of man through the instrumen- 
 tality of a religion. With the experience of future ages 
 Christianity will become further advanced. There may be 
 greater changes in future doctrines, ritual, and ecclesiastical 
 organization than even the past has known. We can feel sure 
 that the revelation of God in the personality of Jesus Christ, 
 with the ever enlarging interpretations which the succeeding 
 generations will continue to give to it, shall continue to be the 
 means through which men will endeavor to secure the conserva- 
 tion of their socially recognized values. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 Christian Ethics: 
 
 HENRY CHTJRCHIIX KINO, The Ethics of Jesua. 
 *GEORGE HARRIS, Moral Evolution. 
 *F. A. PEABODT, Jesus Christ and the Social Question. 
 
FINALITY 213 
 
 *SHAILER MATHEWS, The Social Teachings of Jesus. The Church and 
 the Changing Order. 
 
 WALTER RAUSCHENBUSCH, Christianity and the Social Crisis. 
 
 F. PAULSEN, System of Ethics, Book I, Chapters II-V. 
 
 HASTINGS RASHDALL, The Theory of Good and Evil. Conscience and 
 Christ. 
 
 Conservation of Values: 
 H. HOFFDING, Philosophy of Religion. 
 IRVING KING, Development of Religion, Chapter XIII. 
 *E. S. AMES, Psychology of Religious Experience, Part IV. 
 *G. B. FOSTER, Function of Religion in Man's Struggle for Existence. 
 Finality of the Christian Religion. 
 
 Federation: 
 
 *HENRY C. McCoMAS The Psychology of Religious Sects. 
 *CHARLES S. MCFARLAND, The Progress of Church Federation. 
 NEWMAN SMYTH, Passing Protestantism and Coming Catholicism. 
 
 Modern Liberal Protestant Christianity: 
 *EDWARD S. AMES, The New Orthodoxy. 
 
 *JAMES H. TUFTS, "The Test of Religion" in University of Chicago 
 Sermons. 
 
 *DURANT DRAKE, Problems of Religion, Part III. Shall We Stand by 
 the Church? 
 
 *ADOLF HARNACK, What is Christianity? 
 
 AUGUSTE SABATIER, Outlines of a Philosophy of Religion. Religions of 
 Authority. 
 
 W. ADAMS BROWN, Christian Theology in Outline. 
 JOSIAH ROYCE, The Problem of Christianity. 
 
 Christianity and Moral Evolution: 
 
 W. E. H. LECKY, History of European Morals, Vol. II. 
 L. T. HOBHOUSE, Morals in Evolution, third edition, pp. 212-232; 
 262-264; 300-304.; 312-317; 348-353; 499-526. 
 
 EDWARD WESTERMARCK, Origin and Development of Moral Ideas, Vol. I, 
 pp. 345-371; 381; 411-417; 426-429; 615-618; 653-655. Vol. II, pp. 99-108; 
 133-136; 145; 178-181; 251-264; 280-289; 317, f.; 345; 431-434; 439; 454 f.; 
 480-483; 734-737. 
 
 G. E. HOWARD, A History of Matrimonial Institutions. Chapters 
 VII-IX, XI. 
 
PART II 
 
 RELIGION AND THE SELF 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 PSYCHOLOGICAL CONCEPTIONS 
 I Introductory 
 
 THE supreme concern of a spiritual religion is the conserva- 
 tion of moral values in human personalities through a religious 
 agency. In the course of a man's religious experience he gains 
 these values, and makes them a part of his self, through what 
 he believes to be divine aid. If a modern man were to give 
 an account of his religious experience, this would be sure to 
 include a description of the manner in which in youth he came 
 to appreciate personally the higher moral values praised by 
 parents, teachers, clergymen and rabbis, so that desire for them 
 became an integral part of character, and membership in 
 church or synagogue a real privilege. 
 
 The first business of the psychology of contemporary relig- 
 ion is, therefore, to explain how, through the development of 
 the religious sentiment, such an enlargement and enrichment 
 of the self takes place, ordinarily in the years of adolescence, 
 in connection with the worship of God and the fellowship of 
 the church. (Chapter XV'). A related problem will be the 
 interpretation of Prayer, the process by which individuals and 
 groups seek aid from and communion with God, whom they 
 believe to be the supreme Agency through whom such con- 
 servation of socially recognized values is afforded. (Chapter 
 XVI). A third topic will be the analysis of Mysticism, a name 
 applied to the procedure and experience of persons who seek, 
 and as they at least believe, succeed in obtaining consciousness 
 of the divine presence. (Chapter XVII). Preliminary to all of 
 these psychological interpretations, however, it will be needful 
 to refresh the reader's memory regarding certain psychological 
 conceptions. To this task the present chapter will be devoted, 1. 
 
 214 
 
THE SUBCONSCIOUS 215 
 
 II The Subconscious 
 
 Before attempting a definition of the Subconscious, it will 
 be convenient to give some illustrations. Many persons are 
 able, if they fix the idea in their minds, when they retire at 
 night, that they are going to arise at a certain hour in the 
 morning, to awaken at precisely that hour. All of us like 
 to defer making an immediate decision upon matters of some 
 consequence that are suddenly proposed to us ; we say that 
 we will "sleep over the matter, and decide to-morrow." When 
 the following day arrives, we often find, though we have 
 given the question little or no conscious attention, in the mean- 
 time, that we clearly perceive the merits of the case, and that 
 our minds are fully decided. A student often finds that a theo- 
 rem or a paradigm scanned just before retiring will be perfect- 
 ly recalled on awakening in the morning, and that a 
 few moments then spent in fixing it in the memory 
 will assure permanent mastery of it. A person may 
 meet someone on the street whose face is familiar, 
 whose name he cannot recall; without further thought, 
 the forgotten name may suddenly flash into his con- 
 sciousness a few hours later. A public speaker may agree to 
 deliver an address upon some subject two weeks hence. Though 
 able to give the matter little or no attention in the meantime, 
 when the occasion arrives he delivers "extemporaneously" an 
 excellent speech. Yet he would not have been able to speak 
 at all effectively if he had not had the fortnight's notice. Rom- 
 ances sometimes turn on the point that the heroine does not 
 know her own mind; she really loves the hero, as is perfectly 
 obvious to the reader, but she is unaware of the fact, and all 
 sorts of difficulties ensue; until some crucial situation reveals 
 her love to herself, and she and her lover are happy ever 
 after. 
 
 Cases that at least border on the pathological are still more 
 striking. A person sees in a crystal incidents that he had 
 completely forgotten, and only the evidence furnished by others 
 can convince him that he has recalled facts that he once knew, 
 and that the crystal has not been a source of supernatural 
 or miraculous information. In a similar fashion, a person's hand 
 may automatically write down incidents that were once known 
 but cannot be recalled by conscious effort. In dreams or in 
 visions facts forgotten by the waking consciousness may be 
 brought to light. Severe nervous disorders, extreme phobias 
 
216 
 
 even, have been reported in which the patient is quite unaware 
 of having been frightened, but which the psychiatrist is able, 
 through the employment of abstraction or hypnotism, or 
 through study of the patient's dreams, to trace to some for- 
 gotten shock, often of a really trifling character, a fact which 
 the patient often needs only to realize consciously, in order 
 to be put well on the road to recovery. 
 
 We all know that at the time when a particular object is in 
 the center of our attention, we are more or less dimly aware of 
 the presence of various other objects. When absorbed in an 
 interesting lecture, a student does not attend to the sounds 
 coming in from the open window, or from the next room, nor 
 the sensations of bodily contact with his chair; and yet if 
 asked, he would often be able to recall, as a matter of conscious 
 memory, that he had previously been aware of these circum- 
 stances. Dr. Morton Prince believes that perceptions of the 
 environment which have never even entered the fringe of con- 
 sciousness, of which the individual has never even dimly been 
 aware, may be retained and recalled. Certain of his patients 
 remember through hypnosis, and automatic writing, paragraphs 
 in newspapers which they must have read in casual glances 
 without being aware that they were reading them, 2. 
 
 Now for the interpretation of such cases, and a definition 
 of the Subconscious. The evidence is overwhelming, and so 
 far as the author is aware, all psychologists now concede, that 
 neural processes go in the brain and other nerve centers that 
 are unattended by consciousness at the time, but which either 
 then or later may affect the contents of consciousness. Neural 
 processes of some kind must have been taking place while the 
 person was asleep in order to ensure his awaking at a certain 
 hour, and his mastery of the theorems or paradigms ; the brain 
 must have been active to effect the recall of the forgotten name 
 while the person's attention was upon other topics ; the forgot- 
 ten experiences seen in the crystal must have been in some way 
 registered in the tissues of the brain. 
 
 We are now ready for a definition. By the term subcon- 
 scious, as it will be employed in this book, will be meant those 
 brain or other neural processes which are not attended by 
 consciousness, but which modify the contents of consciousness. 
 If these neural processes had been attended by consciousness 
 while they were taking place, they would be typical instances 
 of perception, imagination, memory, reasoning, volition, etc.; 
 
THE SUBCONSCIOUS 217 
 
 but they were not so attended, and so they are styled subcon- 
 scious. 
 
 A disputed question is, whether or not some subconscious pro- 
 cesses, using the term as just defined, are accompanied by 
 mental processes of which consciousness is at the time unaware. 
 Such subconscious processes, with both neural and mental sides, 
 would be co-conscious. It seems to many psychologists and 
 psychiatrists that mental processes of this sort do take place. 
 Instances of alternating personality, in particular, suggest such 
 an hypothesis. For instance in Morton Prince's famous case, 
 reported in The Dissociation of a Personality a young woman 
 called Miss Beauchamp, feels unaccountable impulses to take a 
 walk on a rainy day, and to do various other things that she 
 does not wish to do, but is compelled to perform in order to 
 regain her peace of mind. When the lady was hypnotized, a 
 personality called "Sally" emerged. Sally averred that she had 
 wanted to take the walk, and to do the other things, and accord- 
 ingly had put these ideas into Miss Beauchamp's consciousness. 
 The simplest explanation of such phenomena, apparently, would 
 be to take Sally at her word, and to assume that she existed in 
 the mind of Miss Beauchamp as a co-conscious personality when 
 Miss Beauchamp felt these unaccountable impulses. If we reject 
 the hypothesis of the co-conscious we must assume that purely 
 neural processes unattended by mental process of any kind 
 impelled Miss Beauchamp, and that, afterwards, in the hyp- 
 notic state, these neural processes produced conscious states 
 called Sally ; but that there was no mental Sally in existence at 
 the time that Miss Beauchamp took the walk. If we accept the 
 doctrine of the co-conscious to explain pathological cases like 
 Sally, it is but another step, and seemingly a reasonable one, 
 to assume the presence of the co-conscious in normal human 
 beings, whenever novel results appear in consciousness that are 
 not the outcome of previous conscious mental processes. We 
 need not suppose that such co-conscious processes would become 
 organized into a separate and competing personality, except 
 under abnormal conditions. Co-conscious processes, however, 
 would be believed to exist in normal human minds, in subordina- 
 tion to the self, and to be of service to it in working out problems 
 for which conscious attention cannot always be spared, as in the 
 illustrations of the public speaker, the student, and the person 
 who has forgotten a name, or who defers his decision upon 
 some matter until the following day. 
 
218 PSYCHOLOGICAL CONCEPTIONS 
 
 The chief arguments against the assumption of co-conscious 
 processes are: (1) we are not aware of them, therefore they are 
 mere assumptions, and it is scientifically more conservative not 
 to assume them; (2) while the continued existence of our brains 
 and nervous systems along with the external world is certain, 
 mental life is often arrested by sleep and in other ways, and 
 there is no sufficient reason for assuming its continued exist- 
 ence. In favor of the theory of the co-consciousness, it is often 
 urged: (1) it is thoroughly scientific to assume the existence 
 of something not directly perceived when to do so offers the 
 simplest explanation of what we do perceive (just as physicists 
 assume the existence of atoms, ether, electrons, etc., though 
 these never can be perceived by anyone) ; (2) unless we assume 
 that mental life is parallel with the nervous system we shall 
 have to assume that neural activity actually calls into existence 
 states of consciousness that are utterly different in character. 
 As consciousness is not a form of energy, to assume this would 
 appear to violate the law of the conservation of energy. The 
 whole question of the relation between mind and matter thus 
 becomes involved in the dispute over the existence of the co- 
 consciousness. There is no need for the reader of this book 
 to decide whether or not he shall accept the doctrine of co-con- 
 scious mental processes. In any event, there are subconscious 
 neural processes, (understanding "subconscious" as it has been 
 defined above) and these processes frequently modify the con- 
 tents of consciousness, either at the time or later on, 3. 
 
 Ill Instincts 
 
 No baby, of course, brings into the world a fully developed 
 personality. The infant consciousness for the first few weeks 
 consists of sensations and feelings. We can very well accept 
 James' characterization of it as a "blooming, buzzing con- 
 fusion" if we remember that this describes it as it would seem 
 to us if we could enter into the baby's mind and observe its 
 contents. The very little baby itself does not know that its 
 mind is a confusion ; it would be more accurate to compare the 
 infant's mental state to homogeneous and undifferentiated pro- 
 toplasm, which later on will develop into distinguishable struc- 
 tures and processes. In due course, certainly before the fourth 
 year is over, nearly all of the great racial impulses make their 
 appearance. During cJiildhood (from four to ten) and adol- 
 escence (from eleven to twenty) the more important of these 
 
INSTINCTS 219 
 
 impulses the principal primary instincts and emotions and 
 the innate non-specific tendencies to action become organized 
 into sentiments, and these sentiments become more systematized, 
 harmonious and stable, so that the individual acquires a definite 
 character and personality of his own. Primary teachers will 
 testify that even little boys and girls of five or six have per- 
 sonalities of their own, each different from the others. How- 
 ever, great enrichments of personality come during later child- 
 hood and adolescence, and these are of chief consequence for the 
 psychology of religion. 
 
 Let us take notice of the nature of these great racial impulses, 
 and of the sentiments to which they give rise. 
 
 The principal primary instincts, common to man and the 
 higher mammals, and each with its distinct mental pathology, 
 include fear, anger, curiosity, tenderness, gregariousness, 
 acquisitiveness, constructiveness, hunger, disgust, self-assertive- 
 ness, self-abasement, sex, and perhaps a few others, 4. All of 
 these, except sex, make their first appearance in infancy. All 
 become greatly widened in their scope during adolescence. Each 
 is psycho-physical, i. e. it has a mental and a physical side. 
 
 The physical side consists of co-ordinations in the brain and 
 central nervous and sympathetic systems which are inherited 
 and which persist throughout life, though subject to certain 
 modifications on the afferent and efferent sides. When stimu- 
 lated, the instinct, either consciously or subconsciously is set 
 into activity. At other times the instinct exists on the physical 
 side, as a tendency or disposition to certain forms of activity. 
 Our eyes exist as organic structures, not only when they are 
 functioning in vision, but also when they are closed and asleep. 
 A better analogy would be that of a habit. Habits are believed 
 to be co-ordinations of brain cells that exist both when one is 
 performing the habit and when one is not acting upon it. 
 Indeed, habits are nourished and grow to some extent even when 
 they are not being exercised. So it has been said that we learn 
 to skate in summer and to swim in winter. An instinct is not a 
 separate organ in the brain, as an eye is an organ ; like a habit, 
 it is a functional unit, an organization of nerve cells in a certain 
 way so that in the future they will react toward stimulation as 
 they have in the past. Habits, however, are not inherited 
 co-ordinations; they are acquired during the individual's life- 
 time. Instincts, on the contrary, are inherited. Man has the 
 
220 PSYCHOLOGICAL CONCEPTIONS 
 
 same instincts as the mammals most related to him. Every 
 human being possesses the same instincts as any other. Indivi- 
 duals differ as to the relative strength of different instincts ; but 
 it is doubtful if even idiots lack any of the instincts altogether, 
 and nobody possesses a different instinct from those of his 
 fellow men. 
 
 When an instinct is in conscious activity, it is also in part 
 mental. Conscious fear is not only a state of the brain and 
 nervous system, it is a conscious emotion, normally prompted 
 by a consciously perceived object, and normally attended by 
 a conscious impulse to action of some sort. That is, the con- 
 sciously operative instinct involves the knowing, feeling and 
 willing' sides of the human mind, or more technically, the cogni- 
 tive, affective, and conative sides. 
 
 Instincts sometimes are sub-consciously active. The instincts 
 of sex and tender emotion are operative when a person is in 
 love without knowing it. An angry person often does not at 
 the time know that he is angry. Pathological fears, as has 
 been said, sometimes cause serious mental and bodily experi- 
 ence although the patient is consciously unaware of this exist- 
 ence. When an instinct is sub-consciously active, has it a mental 
 side? Are subconscious emotions of sex, tenderness, anger, 
 and fear co-conscious? Or are they exclusively physiological? 
 This is a disputed question. And when an instinct is inactive, 
 and persists only as a disposition, is it then purely an affair of 
 tendencies in the nerve cells, or is it also a psychical disposition? 
 We need not decide. All that the reader is asked to believe is 
 that an instinct is a part of our bodily constitutions which 
 exists, both when it is in either conscious or subconscious activ- 
 ity and also when it is in quiescence. At least when in con- 
 scious activity, the instinct also has a psychical side. It may 
 therefore be regarded as an innate psycho-physical disposition. 
 
 IV Habits and Sentiments 
 
 Modifications of instincts, often take place, and constitute 
 habits. A most important form of habit is the Sentiment. A 
 sentiment is an organization of instinctive tendencies in 
 response to a given object that calls them into activity. A 
 stray dog may evoke a momentary caress, or a bit of food, 
 and be speedily forgotten. This is an instance in which an 
 instinct (tender emotion) has been aroused. This instinct 
 may be momentarily aroused many times in the course of a 
 
SENTIMENTS 
 
 day in the case of anyone who is fond of animals. But suppose 
 the same dog attracts the notice of such a person frequently 
 and is repeatedly caressed by him. Ere the person realizes it, 
 the dog will have permanently established itself in his affec- 
 tions and become a pet ; to feel tender emotion toward this 
 particular animal will have become a habit. Manifestations 
 of this habit of tenderness toward the pet dog will thereafter 
 be accompanied by additional emotions. One feels anger if a 
 larger dog annoys one's own dog; one feels curiosity to know 
 the dog's tastes, and self-assertion in exhibiting his accomplish- 
 ments, self-abasement (or even shame) if the dog sometime 
 exhibits the traits of a cur. A youth's attention is called to 
 many pretty faces in the course of a day; for sex is a readily 
 aroused instinct. But suppose one particular face comes 
 habitually to evoke the youth's attention. Ere he knows it, a 
 habit of feeling attracted to this particular girl has been estab- 
 lished. Tender emotion is at once added to sex attraction, 
 and in various ways most of the other emotions become or- 
 ganized in the system of this sentiment. This one girl is the only 
 one (while the sentiment lasts) that can powerfully arouse 
 these emotions in him. He is in love. The formation of senti- 
 ments of hate are similar in principle, beginning with habitual 
 anger toward some particular object. Sentiments of respect 
 are also likewise formed, with self assertion and self abasement 
 as the central nuclei instead of tender emotion, sex, or anger. 
 Sentiments of love, hate and respect are formed toward indi- 
 vidual objects (a dog, a woman, a man, one's self) or classes of 
 objects (dogs, or children, or pretty girls; or German Junkers; 
 or excellent men in general) or abstract conceptions (liberty, 
 justice, science, truth, God). 
 
 While the sentiment is a kind of habit, it will be observed 
 that sentiments differ very materially from other habits. Many 
 habits are easily acquired, and, if not so readily broken as 
 formed, they are, at any rate, far more easily broken than 
 sentiments. Many habits are performed automatically, their 
 chief function being to economize attention and afford 
 efficiency for instance, learning to put on one's clothes, to hold 
 one's knife and fork, to write, and, later in life, to drive a motor 
 car or operate a typewriter. There are even said to be persons 
 who have acquired the capacity to select food and eating uten- 
 sils at a cafeteria without awkwardness ! In contrast to such 
 habits, a deepseated sentiment is a fundamental organization 
 
222 PSYCHOLOGICAL CONCEPTIONS 
 
 of many of one's deepest feelings and impulses about objects 
 of supreme value to him. The various sentiments, taken to- 
 gether, constitute the character of a man. If we can ascer- 
 tain what a man loves, hates, and respects, we know what 
 sort of a man he really is. 
 
 V The Religious Sentiment 
 
 The presence of religion of some sort, as we have seen in 
 Part I, is universal among the races of mankind. Following 
 loose, popular usage, ministers are perhaps justified in speak- 
 ing of a "religious instinct." Has it not become traditional 
 to say that man differs from animals in his ability to use 
 language, make tools, and employ a religion? However, in 
 the more strictly scientific sense, it cannot be said that man 
 possesses a religious instinct similar to fear, anger, curiosity 
 and the others. Nor has he a religious tendency of the innate 
 non-specific type, like play, imitation, sympathy and sugges- 
 tion. We cannot even credit him with an innate tendency toward 
 religion in the vaguer sense in which it might perhaps be main- 
 tained that there are such tendencies toward art, morality 
 and science. For beauty, goodness and truth, after all, are 
 fairly specific values. As Part I has taught us, religion has 
 endeavored to conserve all sorts of values ; it has no very 
 specific and characteristic value of its own, as have art, moral- 
 ity and science. 
 
 On the other hand it is equally inaccurate to say that the 
 religious impulse in man is merely an ordinary habit or attitude 
 formed in response to the environment. The striking fact that 
 all races, and the majority of individual men of all races, have 
 found religion an indispensable mode of conserving their socially 
 recognized values, indicates that there is something about 
 religion that makes it an inevitable mode of expression of 
 human nature. What, then, is the religious impulse, since it 
 is neither an innate tendency nor an ordinary acquired habit? 
 The answer is, it is a sentiment. 
 
 The religious sentiment has for its primary object, the 
 Agency through which the conservation of socially recognized 
 values is sought. For the civilized European and American 
 this Agency is God. Associated with God, develop subsidiary 
 objects, dependent for their sanction, upon Him. Such sub- 
 sidiary objects, for the Christian, are Jesus, the Bible, the 
 Church, the Sacraments, and also, for Roman Catholics, the 
 
THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT 
 
 Blessed Virgin Mary and the saints. Other subsidiary objects 
 exist for the Jew, such as the Law, the synagogue, the feasts, 
 fasts, and other sacred days and observances. For the civil- 
 ized European and American, the primary instincts and emo- 
 tions directed toward God and the subsidiary objects 
 of the religious sentiment include tender emotion, fear, intellec- 
 tual curiosity, and gregariousness. The last manifests itself 
 in the desires for divine companionship and for sociability with 
 one's fellow communicants. The non-specific tendencies, 
 imitation, suggestion and sympathy, also obviously contribute 
 to the strengthening of the sentiment, since child and 
 youth desire to act, feel, and think as their elders do. Complex 
 emotions are present in the worship of God, particularly, as 
 Professor McDougall thinks, admiration, awe, gratitude, and 
 reverence. Among other sentiments, that of love is certainly 
 of great importance. As conservation of the higher moral 
 values is sought through God, all the emotions and sentiments 
 connected with them also unite with the religious sentiment. 
 Among these would be included the sentiments felt toward good- 
 ness, purity of heart, wisdom, self-control, physical and moral 
 courage, justice, and all the other virtues to which one aspires. 
 Impulses connected with the desire for forgiveness of sins and 
 the eradication from one's personality of all that is morally 
 painful to contemplate, also enter into this sentiment. 
 
 The religious sentiment, therefore, includes within its system 
 a very large number of the strongest impulses that a man has. 
 If his childhood and early adolescence are passed in religious 
 surroundings, an individual is likely to learn to seek the con- 
 servation of the values attached to all the impulses, just enum- 
 erated, through the objects of the religious sentiment. Under 
 these circumstances the sentiment has a rapid and extensive 
 development in the mind of an individual and becomes one, at 
 least, of the strongest in his personality. The religious senti- 
 ment has its origin in childhood, in the simple teachings of home 
 and Sunday school. It receives a considerable enlargement dur- 
 ing adolescence, as an outcome of modifications that come in 
 part subconsciously. Later the youth experiences a religious 
 awakening, and enters into conscious possession of this enlarged 
 sentiment. 
 
 VI The Innate but Non-Specific Tendencies 
 Man is a gregarious animal. In consequence of this fact, 
 
PSYCHOLOGICAL CONCEPTIONS 
 
 each of his instincts is liable to be called into operation if the 
 corresponding instincts of other human beings about him have 
 been aroused. The degree to which this is true varies with dif- 
 ferent individuals, some being more susceptible to the social 
 environment than others. Some instincts like fear, anger, sex, 
 and curiosity, are more susceptible to such influences than 
 weaker instincts. Not every manifestation of an instinct serves 
 to effect its arousal in other individuals. A sheep is frightened 
 if other sheep are frightened ; it does not scratch its ear because 
 others do, 5. A college student is aroused to joy or sorrow as 
 those about him feel these emotions in connection with athletic 
 prospects ; the sight of other students absorbed in study does 
 not so invariably produce in him a consuming thirst for knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 This principle is responsible for the innate non-specific emo- 
 tional tendencies, so called because the mode of behavior which 
 they express is more variable and less specific than is the case 
 with instincts. These are suggestion, sympathy, imitation, and 
 play. The first three of these are extremely closely related. 
 
 Suggestion is the tendency for a man to accept as his own 
 o'pinion some idea simply because it has been conveyed to him 
 by another person, "without any critical, logical examination on 
 his own part of the evidence for and against it. The idea may 
 be true, or it may be false ; the person who influences him to 
 believe it may actually hold it himself or be duping him; but 
 the man adopts the idea without exercising his independent 
 judgment upon it. Man is an extremely suggestible animal. 
 He is, of course, most liable to adopt thus the opinions of 
 those who for some reason possess prestige for him. As a gre- 
 garious animal, he is greatly influenced by the opinions of his 
 neighbors. If the majority of persons in one's community 
 hold certain opinions, it is very difficult to exercise one's inde- 
 pendent judgment, and not passively to agree with them. Contra 
 suggestion is no remedy. Some persons of a "contrary" frame 
 of mind are led to hold opinions precisely the opposite to those 
 which they hear expressed, especially if asserted by persons 
 whom they dislike. This, also, is a case of adopting opinions as 
 a result of the influence of others, without exercising independ- 
 ent judgment. 
 
 Although this susceptibility to suggestion often makes man 
 tfre victim of his unscrupulous fellows notoriously, for in- 
 stance, in his voting by demagogic orators, and in his purchases 
 
IMITATION 225 
 
 by unscrupulous advertisements it has on the whole been a 
 valuable trait in human nature. Most of our beliefs as adults 
 have been adopted by us as a result of suggestion. Our moral, 
 political, and social as well as religious convictions have chiefly 
 come to us in this way. How many Americans to-day know 
 why they believe so strongly in a republican form of govern- 
 ment, in monogamous marriage, and in Christianity? How 
 many of us could intelligently defend any of these convictions, 
 if we were to fall into an argument with a highly educated 
 Mohammedan? How many of us, for that matter, could argue 
 effectively against beliefs in witchcraft and slavery, both of 
 which were firmly held by our ancestors? Nor is our inability 
 to defend our beliefs on such matters greatly to be regretted. 
 Those beliefs which in our day appear established and appar- 
 ently do not require modification on account of changed condi- 
 tions, had best be accepted by the general public through sug- 
 gestion. Specialists of course know why our civilization con- 
 tains the beliefs mentioned. All of them were considered care- 
 fully in past ages, and there is no serious reason to question 
 the wisdom with which they were decided. We need to give our 
 attention to the formation of opinions on the unsettled political, 
 moral, social and religious problems of our time, of which 
 there are surely enough to keep us busy. To help decide as 
 many of them as we can, so that still richer traditions may be 
 transmitted to those who come after us is our principal duty. 
 
 So far as the normal acceptance of traditional beliefs 
 through suggestion is concerned, religion stands on the same 
 basis as other activities. Civilization and progress are only 
 possible because we have so large an heritage of beliefs to build 
 upon. It would be foolish to criticize any of them needlessly. 
 However, in our time, new knowledge requires that an unusually 
 large number of traditional beliefs undergo critical revision and 
 reconstruction. Every liberally educated man and woman 
 ought to form intelligent opinions upon them. The general 
 public will never have leisure nor education to examine many of 
 them ; it will ultimately accept through prestige suggestion 
 whatever the intelligent classes decide to be probably true. All 
 the greater responsibility rests upon us in consequence. 
 
 The fact, therefore, that the majority of adolescents develop 
 religious sentiments which rest upon beliefs that they have 
 adopted from their religious environments without much con- 
 scious reflection is normal and inevitable. The same is true of 
 
226 PSYCHOLOGICAL CONCEPTIONS 
 
 their beliefs on morality, politics and other subjects. The 
 half-hypnotic use of suggestion in revivals is, however, quite 
 another matter, and open to serious criticism, as will be indi- 
 cated in the following chapter. 
 
 Sympathy in the psychological sense signifies the tendency 
 to feel an emotion that is felt by others, without critical reflec- 
 tion upon the grounds for the emotion. One sheep bleats because 
 it is frightened at some object; the other sheep at once become 
 frightened without knowing why. Similarly fear and anger 
 are contagious among human beings and cause panics and 
 riots. Laughter is similarly infectious, and if even a poor joke 
 be told at a dinner everyone will catch the emotion of its narra- 
 tor and heartily laugh with him. It is hard to remain depressed 
 among joyful companions, or to remain cheerful among those 
 who are despondent. If one stays long in a community that is 
 passing through a boom it is difficult not to catch the hopeful 
 confidence of the citizens, however ill founded are the logical 
 grounds of their enthusiasm ; nor can one in a period of financial 
 depression or panic fully retain the confidence in the ultimate 
 security of good investments that calm reflection warrants. 
 
 Sympathy, in the technical sense here intended, must not be 
 confused with the popular usage, in which it is employed more 
 or less interchangeably with tender emotion and pity. We 
 can feel tenderness toward those whose emotions we do not 
 share. This is true of the competent physician and nurse, for 
 example; to feel the emotions of their patients would often 
 render them incompetent to afford the relief to which tender 
 emotion prompts. On the other hand, we may feel no pity 
 for those whose emotions we involuntarily share. The priest 
 and the Levite may have felt great sympathy with the poor man 
 who fell among the thieves, in the parable of the Good Samari- 
 tan; it may be that the very sight of his suffering so affected 
 them that it made them sick; what they lacked was tender 
 emotion for him, and so they found it convenient to hasten away 
 and forget him, 6. 
 
 The role of sympathy in the religious life is important. God 
 must be supposed to share the emotions of His worshippers as 
 well as to love them. Thus only could men confidently turn 
 to Him for aid. Mutual sympathy is part of the tie that 
 binds members of church or synagogue together. Sympathy 
 makes possible the growth of common sentiments of Icve and 
 loyalty. The desire to share the religious emotions of adults in 
 
IMITATION 227 
 
 other words, the desire to be able to sympathize is one of 
 the motives that helps to effect religious awakenings in adoles- 
 cence. 
 
 Unreflective imitation is the tendency for a person to act 
 in a certain manner simply because others act in that manner, 
 without critical logical examination on his own part of the 
 reasons for such conduct. One person in a room coughs or 
 yawns ; presently others do so, and the contagion soon becomes 
 quite general. Many adults find themselves keeping time with 
 feet or fingers to the music of a passing brass band. An Eng- 
 lishman with a pure Oxford pronunciation cannot spend many 
 years in an American community, without to some extent ac- 
 quiring the nasal twang with which all Americans habitually 
 and unconsciously speak. 
 
 In the illustrations just given, it is apparent that imitation 
 is subconscious and involuntary, as well as unreflective. There 
 are numerous cases in which persons imitate those who have 
 prestige, adopting their modes of action more or less con- 
 sciously and voluntarily, but without critical reasoning on the 
 matter. Thus fashions spread, and rational considerations 
 regarding economy, comfort, aesthetic beauty and even mod- 
 esty have insufficient influence to prevent modes of dress that 
 are absurd from every reflective standpoint coming for a time 
 into very general usage. Absurd fads in home furnishings, 
 music, dancing, and even architecture are likewise contagious. 
 The practises of aristocracies are imitated by all the other 
 classes of a country, because of their prestige. To the influence 
 of prestige is due in large measure the imitation of each 
 European country, by its colonies. For this reason, "trade 
 follows the flag," and American customs are rapidly supplant- 
 ing Spanish customs in Porto Rico and the Philippines. 
 
 Quite different from imitation that is subconscious and in- 
 voluntary, and imitation that is conscious and voluntary but 
 unreflective, is reflective imitation. To copy a model because 
 of features that have been found as a result of critical examina- 
 tion to be suited to one's needs is wholly different. Of late years 
 Japanese imitation of occidental civilization has largely been 
 of this critical type; the relative merits of the leading western 
 nations in different departments of civilization have been care- 
 fully weighed, and the Japanese have selected and adapted to 
 their wants what, in their judgment, they can best utilize. 
 
228 PSYCHOLOGICAL CONCEPTIONS 
 
 All three forms of imitation, of course, have their value. 
 Attention can and should only be given to the more important 
 details of conduct, and if the right models are reflectively 
 chosen for imitation, details and routine can well be absorbed 
 inattentively, and even subconsciously. Select Tours as a place 
 to learn French, and Hanover to learn German, and choose 
 well educated natives as your associates after you arrive, and 
 you will profitably assimilate even more from them by these 
 methods than by critical imitation. Both, however, are needful. 
 Young men probably learned most about railroading in the 
 employ of James J. Hill, about the steel industry under Andrew 
 Carnegie, and journalism under Charles A. Dana, by the 
 unreflective forms of imitation. Yet, in these instances, as in 
 all others, only those who did their very best consciously and 
 reflectively, profiting by rational imitation, ever rose above 
 mediocrity. While subconscious and conscious but uncritical 
 imitation assist in the process, they do not suffice to make 
 successful men. 
 
 For the small child imitation is mostly unreflective, though 
 even he often criticises his models to the extent of his mental 
 capacity. When adolescence is attained, and reasoning powers 
 increase, reflective imitation becomes more prominent. This 
 holds true of the manner in which the child and adolescent learn 
 all forms of conduct from their elders, morals as truly as 
 speech, deportment, dress, and athletic sports. The same 
 principles hold in religion. The little child prays because he 
 is told to do so, and sees others doing so ; he continues attend- 
 ance at public worship because of admiration and respect for 
 his elders, as well as in obedience to their commands. The 
 adolescent not only feels the inward necessity of gaining their 
 adult religious point of view; he critically and reflectively 
 weighs, as well as he can, the reasons and the evidence for follow- 
 ing the Christian life. In the religious life of adults all three 
 forms of imitation continue. Probably every manual of devo- 
 tion that has had the Imitation of Christ for its theme, from 
 the great book of that title by Thomas a Kempis, to such 
 works of our own time as Dr. Charles Sheldon's In His Steps, 
 prompts the disciple to imitate his Master in all these ways. 
 
 In religion, as in other fields of human activity, these innate 
 non-specific activities are a conservative agency, leading the 
 youth of each generation to adopt the beliefs, emotions, and 
 practices of their elders. The fact that the religious sentiment 
 
IMITATION 229 
 
 develops so largely in childhood and youth and receives its set 
 early in life, makes religion one of the most conservative forces 
 in human society. On the whole, this is good. What needs to 
 be handed down in the fields of moral and religious values from 
 past generations at any given time is vastly greater than what 
 needs modification. On the other hand, these three innate non- 
 specific tendencies are not wholly conservative in their influence. 
 Prestige operates in behalf of a revered religious leader. The 
 founders of new religions and great religious reformers have 
 led their disciples to implicit acceptance of their beliefs, 
 emotions, sentiments, and practices. Suggestion, sympathy 
 and imitation have done as much as critical reflection to insure 
 the triumph of new religious movements. 
 
 As was said above, suggestion, sympathy, and imitation are 
 very closely related. Strictly speaking, they may really be 
 regarded as different names for the same process, according to 
 which aspect of it is most prominent. Instincts always involve 
 cognition, affection and conation ; no one can take place without 
 the others. In consequence, the illustrations of any one of 
 them imply the presence of the others. 
 
 In play occurs the release of nervous energy, not required 
 for immediate tasks. The play of infants is merely this, just 
 running about in random movements which give expression to 
 their buoyant spirits. The plays of older children involve 
 something more. Consciously or unconsciously they are imita- 
 tive of the activities of their elders. Boys play policemen or 
 fireman, while girls act the role of little mothers in the care of 
 their dolls. All of the primary instincts may receive expression 
 in play during childhood and youth as well as in the recreation 
 of adults ; their distinguishing feature as play, at least during 
 youth and adult life, is found in the fact that they are not 
 serious, that they are exercised spontaneously with no ulterior 
 purpose in view. Much of sport involves competition, and is a 
 modification of the instinct of anger or pugnacity by which 
 this is deprived of its animus, and so becomes play. 
 
 The play impulse no doubt attracts youngsters to the Sunday 
 schools especially when the times of Christmas festivals and 
 summer picnics draw near ; adolescents often find sociables more 
 attractive than Endeavor consecration meetings ; many adults 
 are more faithful in their attendance at church suppers than 
 at prayer meetings and communion services. The same condi- 
 tions prevail, no doubt, in primitive religions. This being the 
 
230 PSYCHOLOGICAL CONCEPTIONS 
 
 case, the church and corresponding organizations in other 
 religions have always found it expedient to appeal to this 
 impulse in order to induce individuals to attend religious 
 services. However, so far as the author can see, neither the 
 play impulse, nor the aesthetic impulses that are similar and 
 in some degree derivative, ever form an integral element in the 
 religious sentiment. Religious endeavor is always serious, it is 
 always an endeavor to conserve socially recognized values 
 through the religious Agency. Like work, its interest is 
 extrinsic, for benefits to be experienced at other times than 
 during the performance of the * ceremonial itself. The play 
 impulse may lead a person into an environment favorable for 
 the growth of the religious sentiment, and it may aid to keep 
 him there. Some persons their lives long remain in a church 
 chiefly because of its function as a social club. We all know 
 such people. They are not deeply religious, and either possess 
 no religious sentiment at all, or more probably, a slight but 
 inadequate one. 
 
 VII The Development of the Self 
 
 An infant does not possess a personality. If it be said that 
 he has a self, this simply means that his consciousness is in 
 some sense a whole, although as yet largely an undifferentiated 
 whole. The undifferentiated self of the infant gradually 
 develops through childhood and adolescence into the person- 
 ality of the adult. Some phases of this development, in connec- 
 tion with the religious sentiment, will be noted in the following 
 chapters. At present it will suffice to note three psychological 
 points of a general character, 7. 
 
 (1) The self develops through intercourse with others. A 
 baby imitates his elders consciously and subconsciously. 
 Though walking and talking consist chiefly of co-ordinations 
 of inherited reflexes, imitation of others facilitates the consum- 
 mation of these processes. The boy in his play imitates his 
 father, the policeman, the fireman, and other heroes of his 
 imagination as well as he can, and so learns to some extent the 
 import of their actions. The little girl reproduces faithfully 
 with her dolls all the doings of her mother. Children practise 
 upon younger children what they have learned from those older 
 than themselves. They also learn very much in social inter- 
 course with those of their own age, in displaying to one another 
 their knowledge and accomplishments, in the mutual co-opera- 
 
THE SELF 231 
 
 tion required in play. Boys, too, learn much of manliness and 
 fair play in openly conducted fights in spite of the bloody 
 noses and soiled raiment that shock their female relatives. 
 
 Nearly all of the child's ideas of what it is commendable 
 to do and not to do come from his social environment. It 
 would be as impossible for any person apart from social inter- 
 course to build up the contents of his conscience, telling him 
 what is right and wrong, as it would be to invent a language 
 for himself. And as most of our private thinking is carried 
 on in words which we think to ourselves, it, too, is semi-social 
 in nature. We are constantly reasoning with ourselves, debat- 
 ing with ourselves, commending or condemning ourselves ; in 
 short, assuming toward ourselves the attitudes that we have 
 learned in our social relationships. 
 
 Since our ideas and ideals are acquired chiefly through social 
 intercourse, it is not difficult to perceive that if we believe in 
 the supreme Agency of the religious sentiment, our relations 
 toward Him will have the same general features as our relations 
 with others. This principle will have its specific application in 
 our study of prayer. 
 
 (2) The self develops In the choices it makes. The char- 
 acter of any one is the outcome of his decisions. We are 
 constantly choosing between one possibility and another. Thus 
 habits are formed. Thus, too, sentiments developed from atti- 
 tudes formed toward certain objects that first became habitual, 
 and later built up an instructive and emotional system. Thus, 
 too, the religious sentiment gets its setting in childhood and 
 early adolescence, in the repeated choices made with reference 
 to God and religious worship. Whether this sentiment is to 
 exist at all, and how prominent a place it is to occupy are 
 usually decided before one is twenty, 8. Another momentous 
 decision involving the personality as a whole is the choice of 
 one's vocation in life, and this, too, is usually made before one 
 is of legal age. Such decisions are largely made sub- 
 consciously. The little actions and thoughts of each day 
 gradually are shaping the turn of one's interests and desires, 
 so that when a conscious decision is called for, this often is 
 merely a registering of the decision that has already been 
 subconsciously made in past acts and thoughts. 
 
 (3) The self as a whole is determined in vts constitution by 
 its dominant sentiments. An adult's character consists of his 
 instincts and emotions as they have become organized into 
 
232 PSYCHOLOGICAL CONCEPTIONS 
 
 sentiments. A person with a strong character is one whose 
 sentiments have become unified in a coherent whole, with a few 
 dominant and harmonious sentiments ruling his life. One man's 
 ruling sentiments are love of wealth, luxury and self-display, 
 and fear of poverty. These guided him in his choice of his 
 vocation and they now direct his conduct in it. These senti- 
 ments influenced him in his selection of a wife, and they are 
 now responsible for the manner in which he is bringing up his 
 children. The ruling sentiments of another successful business 
 man have been desire for efficiency as an executive, for compe- 
 tence in directing large undertakings, and the consciousness 
 of power successfully employed. He cares nothing at all for 
 ostentatious display of wealth, or for luxurious living, and 
 leads a life of extreme simplicity. His chief satisfaction is the 
 knowledge that his name is deservedly honored and respected 
 in commercial and banking circles. These sentiments have 
 determined the decisions he has made throughout his life. The 
 ruling sentiments of a man of extremely different type are love 
 of knowledge for its own sake, and the desire for fame as a 
 discoverer in the fields of pure science. These sentiments 
 determined his choice of a profession, his selection of a wife who 
 would sympathize with his ambitions and be contented with his 
 modest financial resources, and they determine the small number 
 of his children and the manner in which they are being educated. 
 The ruling sentiments of another man are love for his fellow- 
 men and keen desire to serve them in personal ways ; so he has 
 become a clergyman or a social worker, and planned his life 
 accordingly. The ruling sentiment of another man is ambition 
 for political distinction, and of another a passion for literary 
 fame. And so on. A woman's sentiments are likely to be more 
 personal in the objects to which they are attached; at least 
 this is true if she marries. For her decision to marry means 
 that her love for some particular man and desire for a home and 
 children are stronger than her interest in a career or profession. 
 Unlike man she cannot usually have both home and a career. 
 She has to make an absolute choice between two rival senti- 
 ments. Her choice made, her personality becomes deeper 
 though more restricted in its scope, and her character simpler 
 and more consistent. 
 
 Not all persons, unhappily, have strong and coherent charac- 
 ters. Many are fickle, others are irresolute or dissolute. The 
 fickle man's consciousness vacillates and he is unable to make 
 
THE SELF 233 
 
 a selection between rival and conflicting sentiments. He may 
 be attracted greatly by the careers of a philosopher and a lady 
 killer, he may want to be a banker and a writer of sentimental 
 poetry, or to be a gentleman of fashion and a great business 
 man. The irresolute man may at times be under the guidance 
 of a commendable sentiment, but this sentiment is not strong 
 enough to gain control of various impulses that are antag- 
 onistic to it, such as slothfulness and lack of self-confidence, 
 while the dissolute man cannot consistently obey his higher 
 sentiments because of the excessive strength of antagonistic 
 passions inclining him to vices like gambling, drinking, and 
 licentiousness. 
 
 The religious sentiment demands a dominant place in the 
 lives of those who possess it. All other sentiments must be 
 compatible with it. God demands single and wholehearted 
 devotion on the part of those who love and revere Him. This 
 sentiment begins its growth in childhood, but does not then 
 play a conspicuous role. It normally gains prominence in the 
 personal consciousness sometime during adolescence. If this 
 dominance over the self is gained without serious conflict on 
 the part of other sentiments, the adolescent awakening of the 
 religious sentiment is gradual, peaceful, and harmonious, and 
 is known as a case of continuous religious growth; if the 
 awakening involves a sharp and bitter but successful conflict 
 with other tendencies in the self, it is a conversion. 
 
 In its intercourse with other persons, in its choices, in its 
 cultivation of sentiments and submission to them, the develop- 
 ment of the self to a considerable extent goes on without one's 
 full knowledge. Besides conscious growth, the development to 
 a very large extent is due to subconscious processes. This is 
 particularly true of religious experiences, and especially those 
 
 of adolescence. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 WILLIAM McDouGALL, Psychology. An Introduction to Social Psychology. 
 ALEXANDER F. SHAND, Foundations of Character. 
 JAMES ROWLAND ANGELL, Psychology, Chapters XX-XXIII. 
 *JAMES BISSETT PRATT, The Religious Consciousness, Chapter III. 
 GEORGE A. COE, Psychology of Religion, Chapter XII ; see "Suggestion" 
 in Index. 
 
 *CHARLES HORTON COOLEY, Human Nature and the Social Order. 
 MORTON PRINCE, The Unconscious. The Differentiation of a Personality. 
 *GEORGE BARTON CUTTEN, Psychological Phenomena of Christianity; see 
 'Subconscious" in Index. 
 
 *EDWARD A. Ross, Social Psychology (illustrations of suggestion and 
 Er.rrpcestibility). 
 
 *GRAHAM WALLAS, The Great Society, Chapter VIII. 
 WILLIAM JAMES, Principles of Psychology (on subconscious, self, etc.). 
 See also references given in the notes to this chapter. 
 
THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT 
 I Introductory 
 
 A SENTIMENT, as we have seen, is an organization of instincts 
 and emotions about an object. Unlike instincts, sentiments 
 are not inherited but develop in the course of one's life time. 
 Knowledge of man's more deep seated and comprehensive senti- 
 ments discloses what a man desires and loves, what he dislikes 
 and hates, what he respects and reveres, what he despises, what 
 constitute his ambitions and aspirations, his fears and aversions. 
 His sentiments make a man what he is, and determine what it is 
 possible for him to become. 
 
 For all who have had a profound religious experience, the 
 religious sentiment has become at least one of the most impor- 
 tant sentiments in their personalities. The higher religions 
 insist that the religious sentiment shall be supreme over all 
 other impulses. The Jew is commanded to love the Lord with 
 all his mind, with all his heart, with all his soul, and with all 
 his strength. The Christian is enjoined to commit his soul 
 unreservedly to Christ, and to make Him the guide and pattern 
 of his life. The Mohammedan must yield his will in absolute 
 submission to Allah. While the Southern Buddhist does not 
 recognize a personal God, he must take his refuge, completely 
 in the Buddha, his system of doctrine, and the guidance of the 
 monastic brotherhood. Perhaps none of the followers of these 
 religions perfectly comply with these commands. But those 
 with deep religious convictions endeavor to do so, and the 
 religious sentiment at any rate becomes one of the strongest 
 influences determining their beliefs, actions, loyalties, and 
 aspirations. 
 
 As extensive investigations in the psychology of religious 
 experience have only been made in the case of Protestants of 
 the non-ritualistic denominations, the account in this chapter 
 will be confined to them. Since human nature is always much 
 the same, it would doubtless be safe to conjecture that the 
 
 234 
 
CHILDHOOD 235 
 
 same principles would be found to prevail, at least in the main, 
 among other Protestants, as well as Catholics and Jews. 
 
 II Religion in Childhood 
 
 By childhood will be meant the years from four until ten. 
 The limiting years are rather arbitrary, and differ with indi- 
 viduals. However, by the beginning of the fifth year, some 
 consciousness of personality has been acquired. With the 
 eleventh year, the great oncoming changes of adolescence are 
 already casting their shadows before. The child witnesses, 
 and to the extent of his ability, participates in, the religious 
 observances of the home, Sunday school, and church. He is 
 much more a witness than a participant. Religious worship 
 is normally something that is external to him, that perhaps 
 interests him, but does not inwardly affect him very deeply. 
 When asked what impressions the church services and 
 Sunday school made upon them in childhood, mature persons 
 gave to Professor Ames such replies as these: "Up to the 
 age of twelve, I know of no definite impression the church 
 service made on me. I took it as a matter of course." "I 
 cannot recall any impression that church and Sunday school 
 made except that I acquired a definite habit of attendance and 
 reverence," 1. Professor Starbuck received similar answers, and 
 concludes : "religion is distinctively external to the child rather 
 than something which possesses inner significance," 2. 
 
 God seems to the child to be a being external to him, a man 
 on a larger scale. A child saw workingmen returning from 
 their work. "Mamma," he asked, "is these gods?" "God," 
 retorted the mother, "Why?" "Because they make houses and 
 churches, mamma, just the same as God makes moons and 
 people and ickle dogs." Another child, watching a man repair- 
 ing telegraph wires on a high pole asked if he was God, 3. A 
 little girl explained thunder as "God rolling barrels up in 
 heaven." Other children have thought of God as a carpenter, 
 a juggler, a preternaturally big man, and so on, 4. John Fiske 
 recalled the God of his childhood as a bookkeeper, leaning over 
 his desk up in the sky, diligently observing the conduct of 
 people and making note in his books of their misdeeds, 5. 
 
 The instincts and emotions felt toward God by children 
 appear to be various. Love and childish confidence are com- 
 mon, as also are fear, wonder, and awe. Professor Dawson 
 shows that the conception of God often satisfies intellectual 
 
236 THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT 
 
 curiosity as to the origin of persons and things, particularly 
 as the child is liable to attribute causes to persons rather than 
 to mechanical forces, 6. God, being conceived of as a person, 
 much like his parents, is besought to bestow the things that 
 the child desires. "I always asked God for the most trivial 
 things." "I used the most endearing terms to God, thinking 
 that he would be more likely to listen." Like the savage, the 
 child looks to God chiefly for material goods. As Professor 
 Starbuck observes, "The child uses God for its own petty ends, 
 it bargains with Him. God and heaven more frequently exist 
 for the child and not the child for them." Yet the child is by 
 no means devoid of the sense of right and wrong, which "germi- 
 nates early, and is evidently one of the most potent factors in 
 childhood religion." The following are among the instances 
 which he mentions : "I had no religious training, but prayed 
 a good deal to be made good." "When seven I stole some 
 cookies. I worried over it for three days. I confessed to God, 
 wept and prayed, but felt that something more was necessary. 
 Finally I confessed to mother, and was forgiven," 7. 
 
 There can be no doubt that under favorable conditions a 
 rudimentary religious sentiment develops in childhood. God, 
 naively conceived, is the object of this sentiment. The values 
 sought to be conserved through Him, trivial though they seem 
 to the adult, are serious in the mind of the child. Though 
 these values are chiefly material, moral values are by no means 
 lacking. Whatever moral values the child is capable of recog- 
 nizing, he readily learns to seek through God. 
 
 It follows that the religious sentiment normally begins its 
 growth in childhood. If this sentiment is to become enlarged 
 and deepened during adolescence, and become one of the ruling 
 sentiments in adult years, it should get a start in early child- 
 hood. Only those who believe that religion is a bad thing for 
 adults, which ought to be extirpated with advancing civilization, 
 can seriously question the desirability of giving some religious 
 teaching to children. Rousseau was altogether wrong upon 
 this point. The chief cautions to be observed are (1) the child 
 should not be taught stiff theological doctrines no longer held 
 by progressive adults; and (2) no attempt should be made to 
 lead him into "conversion," "conviction of sin," or other 
 emotional states unsuited to his years. "Decision days" in 
 our Sunday schools ought never to be observed in classes below 
 the adolescent stage. It is doubtful if they are justifiable 
 
ADOLESCENCE 237 
 
 even for young adolescents. Religious precosity in children 
 is not less unwholesome than sexual precosity. Particularly to 
 be commended are Bible and other religious stories, plays and 
 games with religious information conveyed in them, and the 
 repetition of simple prayers on retiring. The reader who is 
 interested in the educational side of this matter is referred to 
 the standard books on religious pedagogy, among which 
 Professor G. A. Coe's Education in Religion and Morals and 
 Professor G. E. Dawson's The Child and His Religion may be 
 trusted as scientifically reliable. 
 
 The author does not pretend to know much about religious 
 pedagogy. He ventures, however, to offer a suggestion. It 
 has often appeared to him desirable, that no children to-day, 
 however little, should be permitted to fancy that all stories in 
 the Bible are "true stories" in the historical sense. Why not 
 teach them frankly that almost everybody now believes that 
 the stories of Adam and Eve, Noah, Jonah, and the like, are 
 not "true stories?" They could at the same time be assured that 
 all Bible stories, both those that are "true stories" and those 
 that are not, contain lessons that God intends us to learn, 
 lessons that usually are the same in the case of any particular 
 story no matter to which class it belongs. Would not a healthy 
 mixture of faith and doubt thus imparted in childhood save 
 many adolescents, later on, from passing through the tortures 
 from which most of us have suffered? Is it not more probable 
 that children, so taught, would when adults be active supporters 
 of the churches than under present conditions? 
 
 Ill A dolescence 
 
 By adolescence will be meant the years from eleven to 
 twenty-one. The physiological changes that come in the 
 earlier years of this period are well known. Girls on the 
 average gain five inches in height between the ages of eleven 
 and thirteen, and boys make an equal gain between fourteen 
 and sixteen, while rapid increases in weight occur during the 
 same years. The development of the brain and nervous system 
 in many instances is not equally rapid, and an "awkward age" 
 ensues. Important, too, is the accession to puberty, which 
 usually comes about this time, the most frequent age for both 
 sexes in America being fourteen. By the close of the sixteenth 
 year, the more troublesome phases of the transition to young 
 manhood and womanhood are usually over, though the attain- 
 
238 THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT 
 
 ment of complete physical maturity may still be some years 
 distant. It is probable that numerous brain cells, in the 
 association areas particularly, first begin to function during 
 adolescence. 
 
 The mental changes that take place during adolescence are 
 no less important. The strength of various instincts becomes 
 greatly enhanced. This is noteworthy in the case of the 
 gregarious instinct. During childhood there is comparatively 
 little interest in plays that involve team work or co-operation. 
 In a baseball game each little boy wants to be pitcher. But 
 about the dawn of adolescence youths and maidens of their 
 own initiative organize athletic teams, clubs, secret organiza- 
 tions, and societies of various sorts. Ere long they begin to 
 take a keener interest in the problems and associations of their 
 elders. The youth is eager to form opinions upon the political, 
 religious, social and moral issues of the day. He is likely to 
 be dogmatic, and he makes a strong partisan. For him truth 
 and justice are absolute; anything is either true or false, right 
 or wrong. All is either black or white; there are no grays. 
 He has not yet learned that truth and right are often to be 
 found on both sides of a controverted question, or are only to 
 be arrived at from some larger standpoint more comprehen- 
 sive than either. Suspense of judgment is difficult, if not impos- 
 sible. The adolescent is often morbidly conscientious on some 
 points, while still oblivious to other responsibilities. 
 
 Besides the intensifying of the gregarious instinct, these 
 changes are caused by the newly acquired ability to make much 
 larger use of abstract reasoning than is possible for a child, 
 a change accompanying the ripening of brain cells. The inten- 
 sifying of the instincts of anger, self-assertion, and self- 
 abasement furnishes difficult tasks of self-control for both sexes. 
 Adolescent boys and girls in consequence are often irritable 
 and quarrelsome; they are likely to be excessively bashful at 
 times; and at others to be given to self-display and the desire 
 to show off. The awakening of the sexual impulse probably 
 gives to most adolescent boys their hardest battles for self 
 mastery. The choice of a vocation and entrance upon it are 
 necessary for most boys and girls in this period ; for those who 
 are able to defer this decision a few years longer the selection 
 of a college has to be made. Youthful love affairs are common, 
 and these first romances are often taken too seriously to heart. 
 
 Adolescence is the period when human personality receives 
 
ADOLESCENCE 239 
 
 its permanent set. Many of one's peculiar tastes and habits 
 are then fixed, 8. There are numerous fields in which it is 
 practically impossible for one later in life to acquire an interest 
 for the first time. This is true of music, art, literature, and 
 athletic sports and games. It is even hard, later in life, to 
 learn to dress well, to select furniture, to acquire a new 
 language free from accent, or to learn to speak or to write 
 one's own vernacular correctly. The first steps in the various 
 vices are made during adolescence. There is little risk that a 
 man who has made no bad beginnings during adolescence will 
 ever become a victim of incontinence, gambling, or the excessive 
 use of alcohol. A youth who is habitually truthful, honorable, 
 and conscientious in his dealings with others may reasonably 
 be expected to remain so to the end of his days. Since the 
 personal characteristics of the adult become fixed in many 
 other respects, during adolescence, it is not surprising that 
 this is the case with the attitude toward religion. Comparatively 
 few adults are to be found among the communicants of 
 churches who did not become such during adolescence. 
 
 IV Adolescence and the Religious Sentiment 
 
 The religious sentiment, as has been said, under proper condi- 
 tions has its origin in childhood. Its chief growth comes during 
 adolescence, when there may occur as great an enlargement 
 of the religious life as of other mental and moral capacities. 
 To the child, God is external, just a man on a larger scale 
 for him to approach, address, petition, love, and confide in, 
 like any other friend. To the adolescent, with his newly 
 acquired powers of abstract thinking, God is much more pro- 
 foundly significant. He is the intellectual explanation of the 
 universe, the maintainer of the moral order, the essence of truth, 
 holiness, justice, righteousness, beauty, love, and whatever 
 other abstract attributes and qualities it occurs to the youth 
 to regard as absolute, eternal, infinite, or in any sense ultimate. 
 
 With this altered conception of God, come changes in the 
 moral values which the youth seeks through God. He now 
 desires proper harmonization of the instincts that have recently 
 become intense and hard to control 'such as temper, self, and 
 sox. He seeks a better understanding of right and wrong. He 
 begins to realize that his parents and other religious minded 
 adults gain help in their moral life through public and private 
 worship of God. The religious observances that he has always 
 
240 THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT 
 
 seen going on evidently possess for them an inward meaning 
 that has hitherto escaped him. God, for them, is not just an 
 external Being to be addressed, but a Great Companion with 
 whom they commune inwardly. He is "closer than breathing, 
 nearer than hands and feet." Familiar prayers and psalms 
 evidently mean more to them than he had suspected. He has 
 probably long been acquainted with the twenty-third Psalm 
 and the Lord's Prayer. He discovers that to his mother these 
 are helpful and precious, with meaning that has hitherto 
 escaped him. What is true in regard to God is also true of 
 the subordinate objects of the religious sentiment, such as the 
 Bible, the church, and the sacraments. He perceives that they 
 all imply deep inward values that he must learn to appreciate 
 and to make his own. 
 
 The problem for the adolescent is therefore to secure for 
 himself an adequate enlargement of the religious sentiment, so 
 that the religion of his elders may truly become his religion, 
 so that he may share in their public worship and get out of 
 it what they do, so that he may privately gain the help from 
 God for his personal struggles that they gain for theirs. 
 
 This enlargement in the religious sentiment of the adolescent 
 is the outcome of a gradual growth in which, as youth and 
 maiden pass out of childhood, toward manhood or womanhood, 
 he or she subconsciously learns to understand, to appreciate, 
 and to participate in the surrounding religious environment. 
 
 The manner, however, in which the adolescent awakens to 
 consciousness of this gradual enlargement of the religious senti- 
 ment that has been taking place within him, and by awakening 
 to consciousness of it, learns to make it fully his own, and to 
 enjoy the benefits of it, varies in different individuals. Hence 
 there are various types of the awakening of the religious 
 sentiment. 
 
 The simplest type of such awakening is known as continuous 
 religious growth without conscious transitions. In this type, 
 adolescents pass gradually, and without points of transition 
 of which they are aware, from the naive and external attitudes 
 of the child to the deepened religious consciousness of the 
 devout adult. A famous instance of this type is that of Dr. 
 Edward Everett Hale: "I observe, with profound regret, 
 the religious struggles which come into many biographies, as 
 if almost essential to the formation of the hero. I ought to 
 speak of these, to say that any man has an advantage, not to 
 
ADOLESCENCE 
 
 be estimated, who is born, as I was, into a family where the 
 religion is simple and rational; who is trained in the theory 
 of this religion, so that he never knows, for an hour, what 
 these religious or irreligious struggles are. I always knew God 
 loved me, and I was always grateful to Him for the world He 
 placed me in. I always liked to tell Him so, and was always 
 glad to receive His suggestions to me." Professor Starbuck 
 cites numerous other instances, 9. 
 
 Diametrically opposite are the various types classified 
 together by writers on the psychology of religion as conversion. 
 This technical significance of conversion must not be confused 
 with the broader usage given to the term by many ministers, 
 who apply it to designate any form whatever by which a satis- 
 factory adult religious sentiment may be attained. The minis- 
 terial usage is quite justifiable, in fact indispensable, for those 
 who must interpret to their congregations the outcome of Jesus' 
 conversation with Nicodemus reported in the Fourth Gospel 
 as signifying that every one, if he is to be a Christian, must 
 be "converted." It is quite true that no one can enter fully 
 into the Christian life who has not in some manner acquired 
 and become possessed of an enlarged sentiment. In this minis- 
 terial sense of "conversion," it is true that no one can become 
 a Christian without being converted. But very many, perhaps 
 the majority, of persons become Christians without being con- 
 verted in the technical sense of the word, as it is employed by 
 writers upon the psychology of religion. And, be it understood, 
 throughout this book the word "conversion" will be employed 
 in the technical sense of the psychologists. 
 
 In all cases of Conversion (in the technical, psychological 
 sense of the word), the individual passes through a sharp and 
 painful mental crisis and emerges a changed person. Before 
 conversion his religious sentiment was that of a child; after 
 conversion it is that of the religiously awakened adolescent or 
 adult. 
 
 Numerous types of conversion have been distinguished which 
 frequently overlap. For instance, there are the cases in which, 
 before and during the crisis, the individual has a feeling of 
 incompleteness, which is followed, after the crisis is over and 
 the victory won, by a sense of spiritual illumination. "I prayed 
 day after day, struggling for light. While struggling in 
 prayer, peace came to me in the darkness." "I prayed and 
 cried to God for help. I wandered for years, seeking rest. I 
 
THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT 
 
 went to many a priest for comfort. When all outward help 
 failed, a voice came which said, 'There is one, even Christ Jesus, 
 can speak to thy condition' ; and when I heard it, my heart did 
 leap for joy," 10. The feeling of incompleteness is one of 
 "uncertainty, unrest, mistiness, a dazed feeling, distress, effort, 
 struggle toward an indefinite something, longing for something 
 out of reach, etc., which is followed by peace, happiness, a sense 
 of harmony, a clearing away, a flash of light, freedom, entrance 
 into the new life, and so on." According to Professor Starbuck, 
 this is the most common adolescent type of conversion, at least 
 six times as frequent as the type opposed to it, that of a sense 
 of sin followed by escape from It. 
 
 The latter type is a much more acute experience. "In the 
 escape from sin the conflict is between a life that has been 
 lived a sinful habitual life and the life of righteousness; 
 while in the other type the conflict is between a life that is not 
 an incomplete, imperfect, aspiring self and the life which is 
 to blossom out and be realized. . . . The sense of sin shows 
 itself as a feeling of wretchedness, heaviness, helplessness, weari- 
 ness, sensitiveness and resistance, separation from friends and 
 God, fear, resentment, and so on feelings which are followed 
 after the crisis by joy, peace, rest, lightness of heart, oneness 
 with others and God, love, exuberance of spirits, sense of free 
 activity and the like. The feelings are reduced to the last 
 degree of tension, and then recoil ; are pent up, and suddenly 
 burst; life appears to force itself to the farthest extreme in a 
 given direction, and then to break into free activity in 
 another," 11. 
 
 In the case of adolescent girls who Have committed no 
 heinous sins, the evidence indicates depressed organic conditions, 
 due to rapid physiological changes, which are often attended 
 by hysteria and other nervous and circulatory disorders. In the 
 case of boys, the sense of sin is often due to self-reproach for 
 weakness in conflicts with temper and sex. When there has 
 actually been moral waywardness, conversion for adolescents, 
 as for adults, involves a fierce struggle to overcome tendencies 
 antagonistic to the religious sentiment. 
 
 The severe struggle in "sense of sin" conversions that involve 
 the suppression of habits and other antagonistic impulses can 
 best be understood psychologically in view of two of the general 
 laws of sentiments laid down by Mr. Alexander F. Shand. He 
 says, "Every sentiment tends to include in its own system all 
 
ADOLESCENCE 243 
 
 the thoughts, volitional processes and qualities of character 
 which are of advantage to it for the attainment of its ends, 
 and to reject all such constituents as are either superfluous 
 or antagonistic," 12. The qualities characteristic of a senti- 
 ment often at first develop spontaneously [subconsciously?] 
 for instance, generosity, gentleness, kindliness and sincerity in 
 the case of the sentiments for truth and art. Later, in the 
 case of all sentiments that tend to grow or maintain them- 
 selves, a second stage appears in which we become conscious of 
 these qualities, reflect upon them, and strive after them with 
 effort, because we see that they are in danger of not advancing 
 with the growth and needs of the sentiment so ideals are 
 formed, and duties as well. Love creates its own virtues, ideals 
 and duties, and a conscience, in short develops an ethics of 
 its own. Hence the other law follows, namely, "Every sentiment 
 tends to form a type of character of its own," 13. 
 
 What Mr. Shand finds to be generally true of the sentiments 
 of love and respect, can be applied to the religious sentiment, 
 which in Americans to-day consists chiefly of love and respect 
 for God, and for the subordinate objects associated with Him. 
 The awakening religious sentiment recognizes the virtues, ideals 
 and duties which must be conscientiously cultivated; it tends 
 to form a type of character. All in oneself that is antagonistic 
 to this type of character is wrong, and must be uprooted and 
 destroyed. Its existence in one is sinful ; being opposed to the 
 ethics of the religious sentiment, it may be thought of as 
 "original sin," "depravity," or the "carnal mind," all of which 
 are fundamentally "at enmity with God." God requires abso- 
 lute loyalty and devotion. It is impossible to serve both Him 
 and Mammon. So if there exist in an adolescent's personality 
 elements felt by him to be hostile to his awakening religious 
 sentiment, he is forced to undergo a conflict until these 
 unfriendly elements have become subdued. Only then can he 
 enjoy the perfect peace and happiness of oneness with God, 
 i. e., the harmonious organization of his character under the 
 dominance of his religious sentiment. 
 
 This view of the religious sentiment explains, also, the two 
 volitional tvpes of conversion distin crushed bv Professor Star- 
 buck and William James, one involving "effort" ; and the other 
 "self surrender." In the former, the struggling adolescent feels 
 the necessity of making a resolute struggle in order to gain 
 the larger life. "I determined to yield my heart and life to 
 
2J4 THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT 
 
 God's service." "One day I made up my mind I would be for 
 Christ always," 14. A fuller account of such an experience is 
 quoted by William James from C. G. Finney's Memoirs : "Just 
 at this point the whole question of Gospel salvation opened to 
 my mind in a manner most marvelous to me at the time. I 
 think I then saw, as clearly as I ever have in my life, the reality 
 and fullness of the atonement of Christ. . . After this 
 distinct revelation had stood for some little time before my 
 mind, the question seemed to be put, 'Will you accept it now, 
 today?' I replied, 'Yes, I will accept it today, or I will die 
 in the attempt !' ' But he found that he could not pray, 
 because his heart was hardened with pride. "I then reproached 
 myself. . . A great sinking and discouragement came over 
 me, and I felt almost too weak to stand on my knees." So the 
 conflict continued for some time, between, as we might put it 
 psychologically, the awakening religious sentiment and the 
 elements in his personality antagonistic to it, 15. 
 
 The "self-surrender" type is superficially opposite. In this 
 type the individual must give up struggling. His tendency has 
 been to identify his self with the impulses antagonistic to the 
 religious sentiment. His self, as thus conceived, must now 
 passively submit, and permit the awakening sentiment to domi- 
 nate consciousness entirely, and automatically to suppress all 
 that is hostile to it. The self or will, composed of antagonistic 
 impulses, must be broken completely. "I had said I would not 
 give up; but when my will was broken it was all over." 
 simply said, 'Lord, I have done all I can; I leave the whole 
 matter with Thee,' and immediately there came to me a great 
 peace." "All at once it occurred to me that I might be saved, 
 too, if I would stop trying to do it all myself, and follow Jesus ; 
 somehow I lost my load," 16. 
 
 Besides the types of awakening of the religious sentiment 
 here designated as those of "continuous growth" and "conver- 
 sion" there are various mixed types, partaking in part of the 
 nature of continuous growth and in part of conversion. For 
 instance, Professor Starbuck describes cases in which there 
 has apparently been continuous religious growth up to a certain 
 point, when quite suddenly and spontaneously "the new life 
 bursts forth without any apparent immediate cause." "For 
 four years I had wanted to be a Christian but could not feel 
 my sins forgiven. One morning sitting in my room reading, 
 peace just seemed to come, and I was happy indeed." Professor 
 
THE SUBCONSCIOUS 245 
 
 Starbuck also gives accounts of cases in which states of storm 
 and stress, of doubt, and of feelings of alienation from God, 
 are succeeded by the acquisition of the larger self. These 
 cases contain some but not all of the features of conversion, 
 and are accordingly classified by him among "lines of religious 
 growth not involving conversion." They are evidently mixed 
 types, 17. Professor Ames reports similar cases, 18. 
 
 Before leaving the subject of the classification of types of 
 religious awakening, attention should be called to the fact 
 that Professor Pratt has recently attacked the traditional 
 classification here given, which has come down from the classical 
 works of James and Professor Starbuck. He believes that 
 with most people the awakening is "a gradual and almost 
 imperceptible process, with an occasional intensification during 
 adolescence. Many, perhaps most, religious adolescents have 
 a number of these emotional experiences which may last for a 
 few moments only or for days and weeks." In churches which 
 lay no special emphasis on conversion as a unique experience, 
 "no great notice is taken of these states of excitement. . . In 
 those denominations on the other hand . . which teach the 
 necessity of a conversion experience, some one of the many 
 emotional stirrings of adolescence is singled out as the conver- 
 sion, and the others are ignored and largely forgotten," 19. 
 Professor Pratt's contentions deserve serious study and fresh 
 examination of the evidence. Until this is done, it is probably 
 more conservative to follow the usual classification. 
 
 V Role of the Subconscious in Adolescent Awakenings 
 
 Children learn largely by subconscious observation of what 
 goes on about them, which later they imitate and so consciously 
 master. This, for instance, is the way that they learn to speak. 
 An adult in a foreign country, in a short time, subconsciously 
 acquires more of the language which he constantly hears spoken 
 about him than he could have gained by years of conscious 
 application to dictionary and grammar at home. He learns 
 the language in the largely subconscious manner that a child 
 learns his mother tongue. 
 
 The religious sentiment develops during childhood in a 
 similar way. Through the years when religion has seemed 
 external, and there has been little apparent comprehension of 
 its inward significance, the religious sentiment of the child has 
 been gradually, and for the most part subconsciously, acquiring 
 
246 THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT 
 
 appreciation of the practices and beliefs, virtues and ideals, 
 inculcated by the religion of his elders. Love and reverence 
 for God, Christ and church have been gradually growing up 
 within him. If his development has been symmetrical, and there 
 has been little resistance to it by other impulses of his nature, 
 the youth may sometimes find himself in full conscious posses- 
 sion of this enlarged sentiment. In his case this, has been the 
 outcome of continuous growth, without any definite periods of 
 transition. If, on the other hand, his gradually awakening 
 religious sentiment progresses less rapidly in the realization 
 of ideals and acquirement of virtues than his conscience dictates, 
 he may suffer from an aching sense of incompleteness, and be 
 compelled to assist the progress of the religious sentiment by 
 conscious volition. And if there are elements in his personality 
 habits, beliefs, tastes, ideals, not to say vices that vigorously 
 resist the promptings of his religious sentiment, these elements 
 will appear to him sinful, and loyalty to the religious sentiment 
 will demand of him a heroic struggle for their eradication. In 
 all such cases either conscious effort is needed to assist the 
 subconscious processes at work (the "effort" type), or else 
 he must learn voluntarily to relax, to desist from conscious 
 strivings, and "let go," so that the subconsciousness may auto- 
 matically complete the ripening of the religious sentiment. In 
 all volitional cases, as Professor Starbuck says, "the function 
 of the will in conversion, seems to be to give point and direction 
 to the unconscious [subconscious] processes of growth, which 
 in turn, work out and give back to clear consciousness the 
 revelation striven after." "Let one do all in his power, and the 
 nervous system will do the rest"; or said in another way, 
 "man's extremity is God's opportunity," 20. 
 
 It is easier to characterize the role of the subconscious in 
 conversion in language that implies acceptance of the 
 hypothesis of the co-conscious than in language that does not. 
 It will not be difficult for the reader who rejects this 
 hypothesis, however, and who believes that subconscious pro- 
 cesses are wholly physiological, to interpret the preceding two 
 paragraphs, as well as all other references to the subconscious 
 in this chapter, in the manner that he prefers. 
 
 VI Conditions Determining the Types of Adolescent 
 Awakening 
 
 What conditions determine which type of religious awaken- 
 
DETERMINING CONDITIONS 247 
 
 ing any particular adolescent is most likely to experience? 
 These are furnished in part by his religious environment, and 
 in part by his own personal characteristics. 
 
 Some religious denominations and individual churches 
 endeavor to effect awakenings of the conversion types. 
 Through revivals, testimony meetings, and the like, the ado- 
 lescent's attention is constantly drawn to the experiences of 
 those who have been converted. He is taught to think of 
 conversion as a mark of divine favor. In the not very remote 
 past, he was sometimes led to believe that no one can feel 
 assured that he has been accepted by God unless he undergoes 
 startling experiences of some kind. Professor Coe conducted 
 a careful investigation into the experiences of persons whose 
 religious sentiments evidently took shape in such religious 
 environments. He found that conversions take place in nine 
 out of ten persons who combine these three qualifications: (1) 
 expectation and desire for conversion, (2) temperaments of an 
 emotional and sensitive as opposed to an unemotional and intel- 
 lectual sort, and (3) passive suggestibility (so as to be devoid 
 of initiative when hypnotized) and with a tendency to auto- 
 matisms (such as hallucination, striking dreams, visions, violent 
 movements under excitement like hysterical laughing and weep- 
 ing). If any one of these qualifications is lacking, the prob- 
 ability that the person can experience conversion is reduced. 
 Persons possessing the opposite of all three qualifications are 
 temperamentally and constitutionally incapable of the particular 
 form of awakening called conversion although they may become 
 very earnest Christians, 21. 
 
 On the other hand, there are denominations and individual 
 churches that seek to cultivate continuous religious growth 
 rather than conversions among their young people. Con- 
 firmation classes and other thoughtful and gradual methods 
 of religious instruction are employed in preference to revivals 
 and missions. In such environments, although no careful 
 inquiry has been made corresponding to Professor Coe's inves- 
 tigation of the conversion type, the evidence seems to indicate 
 that adolescents are much more likely to experience continuous 
 growth than conversion. However, a mild spontaneous 
 awakening at the time of taking first communion is said not 
 to be uncommon among Catholic adolescents, whose faces 
 shine with happiness as they inwardly feel the significance of 
 the sacrament. A similar phenomenon among Lutheran 
 
248 THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT 
 
 adolescents is described in the closing stanzas of Tegner's 
 poem, "The Children of the Lord's Supper," translated by 
 Longfellow. 
 
 Professor Starbuck believes that conditions are rendered 
 more favorable for continuous religious growth if children 
 are kept reasonably free from dogmas which they are 
 incapable of understanding, if their doubts and other needs 
 are wisely and sympathetically met whenever they arise, and 
 if they have been brought up so as to have a certain healthy 
 mixture of faith and doubt. However, he adds, that at the 
 present time and with the conditions under which we live, 
 growth does not usually come so harmoniously. Physiological 
 development during adolescence is not continuous, for that 
 matter. Some sort of friction and clash is therefore almost 
 sure to arise, "unless the youth is so happily constituted that 
 nature works out the result for him and he wakens up to the 
 fact that he is a full-grown spirit." He concludes with this 
 thought provoking comment: "A few persons seem to have an 
 uneventful development because they do not leave the religion 
 of childhood, perhaps never wake up to an immediate realiza- 
 tion of religion. They raise the question whether it would 
 not have been conducive to growth even to have suffered a little 
 on the rack of doubt and storm and stress," 22. 
 
 William James eloquently described a religious type of mind 
 free from the doubts and struggles of conversion which he 
 called "the religion of healthy mindedness." Emerson, Theo- 
 dore Parker, Edward Everett Hale, Walt Whitman, and 
 adherents of various faith cures are cited by him as examples. 
 They are attractive types in many ways. Yet one wonders 
 if there is not much truth in James' comment, "one can but 
 recognize in such writers as these the presence of a tempera- 
 ment organically weighted on the side of cheer and fatally 
 forbidden to linger. . . over the darker respects of the 
 universe. In some individuals optimism may even become 
 quasi-pathological. The capacity for even a transient sadness 
 or a momentary humility seems cut off from them as bv^a kind 
 of congenital anaesthesia," 23. Perhaps the religion of 
 "healthy mindedness" is not always so healthv after all. He 
 suggests that, since the evil facts are as genuine parts of 
 nature as the good ones, the philosophic presumption should 
 be that they have some rational significance, and that 
 religions of deliverance, like Christianity and Buddhism mani- 
 
ADULTS 249 
 
 fest a higher development in their insistence that man "must 
 die to an unreal life before he can be born into the real life," 
 i. e., be converted, 24. 
 
 Possibly race has something to do with the matter. The 
 Latin races, on the whole, James thought more disposed to 
 the religion of healthy-mindedness and the Germanic races to 
 the conversion types, 25. There have been famous conversions 
 among Latins, however; one thinks at once of those of St. 
 Augustine and St. Francis of Assissi. Both of these, how- 
 ever, took place in adult life. There may be some significance 
 in the fact that the Roman Catholic religion has its strongest 
 hold among Latin races. For its training of the young has 
 been on the whole more favorable to continuous growth rather 
 than conversion. 
 
 Whatever may be the preferable type of awakening for 
 other adolescents, it can be positively affirmed that those who 
 have actually led vicious or seriously wayward lives ought 
 to undergo the severe crisis of conversion. Such cases do not 
 merely require the completion and bringing to consciousness 
 of an enlarged sentiment in an hitherto incomplete personality, 
 but a sharp break with old habits and a thorough reformation 
 of the character. Where an old self must be uprooted and 
 destroyed, not simply outgrown, conversion is indispensable. 
 
 While, on the whole, conversion experiences seem to the 
 author to guarantee a profounder development of character 
 on the religious side, he does not mean unreservedly to favor 
 religious revivals. The trouble with revivals is that in the 
 majority of instances, as we shall see, they do not effect 
 conversions at all, but only pseudo-conversions. 
 
 VII The Religious Sentiment in Adults 
 
 As in the case of the wayward adolescent, so of hitherto 
 irreligious adults, the acceptance of religion implies that the 
 religious sentiment must triumph over much in the personality 
 that is unfavorable to it. After the character in its main 
 outlines has received its set during adolescence, it is difficult 
 for a new interest to become established. For this to occur 
 means a terrific struggle, and a conversion of the "sense of 
 sin" type. So nearly all cases in which a genuine religious 
 awakening takes place in adult life are conversions of this 
 type. This remark does not apply, of course, to revival 
 pseudo-conversions, nor to cases where considerations of 
 
250 THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT 
 
 courtship or business lead a young man to join a church 
 without having really acquired profound religious convictions. 
 Particularly dramatic adult conversions are those of drunk- 
 ards and other derelicts that are sometimes effected in the 
 work of the Salvation Army and other missionary societies 
 like those described in Harold Begbie's "Twice Born Men." 
 
 When an adult changes from one religious faith to another 
 that is radically different say a Catholic becomes a Protest- 
 ant or a Jew becomes a Christian, sweeping changes in 
 beliefs, habits, ideals, and associations are involved. He must 
 therefore ordinarily undergo a conversion of an extreme type ; 
 unless again, the change in religious profession is made merely 
 as a matter of expediency, and without any real alteration 
 of convictions. Since such changes in faith imply a victory 
 in heroic struggles that few are willing to undergo, they 
 rarely occur. An adult who forsakes the faith of his fathers 
 generally ceases to profess any religion at all. His religious 
 sentiment becomes gradually dissolved, and the ideals and 
 loyalties that it once contained either are retained in purely 
 moral sentiments devoid of religion or else they are lost alto- 
 gether. For this reason, it is seldom wise to advise an adult 
 to change his religious faith. As a rule, he had better adhere 
 to the communion of h^s fathers, and endeavor to do what he 
 can to make it more liberal and enlightened. The religious 
 sentiment normally, as we have seen, begins its growth in 
 childhood, and becomes enlarged and enriched during 
 adolescence. To attempt to ur>root it, and substitute a new 
 religious sentiment during adult life is rarely successful. This 
 does not apply, of course, to transferring from one Protestant 
 denomination to another; since to the lavman. at least, most 
 Protestant denominations are practically alike, and such 
 transference involves no alteration of the religious sentiment 
 whatever. 
 
 After the religious sentiment has normally awakened during 
 adolescence, what is its ordinary growth in later life? Most 
 persons probably experience continuously increasing insight 
 and appreciation throughout life. The Christian constantly 
 grows in grace, and in the knowledge of his Lord and Saviour. 
 To be sure, for many there probably is less emotional turbu- 
 lence than during adolescence. But this is only because still 
 waters run deep. The religious sentiment has become 
 thoroughly established, and proceeds without opposition in 
 
PSEUDO-CONVERSIONS 251 
 
 its guidance of the person's thoughts and feeling and actions. 
 Married folk love each other, not less but more, because they 
 no longer feel the more exciting and ecstatic thrills of court- 
 ship days. For them it is no longer necessary every hour to 
 have fresh verbal assurances of constancy and devotion; these 
 are proved in the course of living itself; only the shallow, 
 newly acquired sentiment of love, gains its sustenance in such 
 ways, and needs thus to protect itself against frequent temp- 
 tations to fickleness. The same principle holds in regard to 
 the love and reverence for God. Downright disloyalty to Him 
 does not occur among His saints, 26. 
 
 Among some adults, however, especially those of the tem- 
 peramental types liable to experience conversion during 
 adolescence, the attainment of new planes of growth and 
 insight dawns upon consciousness in a manner similar to a 
 conversion or spontaneous awakening. For such persons the 
 new life begun at conversion suddenly comes to consciousness 
 in still greater richness after it has been practised for some 
 time. This is known as Sanctification. The interested reader 
 is referred to the accounts by Professor Starbuck (27) and 
 William James, 28. 
 
 VIII Pseudo-Conversions and Revivals 
 
 It is important not to confuse religious conversions, a 
 normal type of awakening of the religious sentiment, with 
 other mental phenomena that present somewhat similar charac- 
 teristics. 
 
 During the course of religious revivals, very many people 
 believe that they are converted and show remarkable outward 
 marks of some sort of mental experience, who later prove not 
 to have been converted at all. Such persons had experienced 
 no awakening of the religious sentiment, either because in 
 their cases there was no religious sentiment present in their 
 subconsciousness that could be awakened, or because the 
 revival did not affect them sincerely and profoundly enough 
 notwithstanding their possible tears, shouting and hysteria 
 to awaken the sentiment and make it an integral part of the 
 conscious personality. Such experiences may be known as 
 pseudo-conversions. 
 
 The revival can easily be understood in the light of two 
 well-known psychological principles: (1) a man is extremely 
 susceptible to the ideas, emotions, and actions of other human 
 
252 THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT 
 
 beings. This is what in the preceding chapter was called 
 suggestion, sympathy and imitation. (2) There is a marked 
 tendency in man for the idea of an action to result in the 
 action itself, unless inhibited by other ideas or impulses. This 
 is the so-called law of ideo-motor action, 29. For instance, think 
 hard of raising your hand, but don't raise it. Do you not feel 
 a strong impulse to raise the hand, which, however, is inhib- 
 ited? Think similarly of walking, of singing a familiar hymn, 
 of eating some favorite food, etc. The secret of successful 
 hypnotism is to give the subject ideas of various actions that 
 the hypnotiser desires him to do, and at the same time to 
 remove the ordinary inhibitory ideas that would prevent him 
 from acting upon them under ordinary conditions. 
 
 The successful revivalist may not have studied psychology, 
 but he is always a past master in the employment of these 
 two principles. His purpose is to give members of his audience 
 the idea of coming to the altar, at the same time removing 
 the ordinary inhibitions that would prevent them from doing 
 so. If he can induce this action in the most suggestible of the 
 audience, he can count on the action spreading automatically 
 to those suggestible in the next degree, and then in the next, 
 and so on, until a large number have come to the altar. 
 
 A short time afterward, most of the so-called converts of 
 a revival lose all interest in religion, and many of them are 
 quite ready to laugh at the experience, and wonder how the 
 evangelist induced them to make such professions. 
 
 The remarkable thing about revivals is not that most of the 
 so-called converts are not converts at all, but only pseudo- 
 converts. This is what we should expect. Conversion, as we 
 have seen, is the awakening in consciousness of a religious 
 sentiment that has been in the course of gradual growth, 
 probably ever since early childhood. Performances induced 
 in a crowded meeting by methods of suggestion are not neces- 
 sarily awakening of sentiments where subconscious growth is 
 nearly completed. They need not be responses to anything 
 deepseated in character at all. Pseudo-conversions need no 
 further explanation. What does require explanation is that a 
 few usually only extremely few revival converts retain a 
 permanent religious interest throughout life, and prove to have 
 experienced genuine conversion. 
 
 The explanation clearly is, that the permanent revival 
 converts are nearly always persons who have grown up in 
 
OTHER AWAKENINGS 253 
 
 religious surroundings and probably have been in such sur- 
 roundings recently, so that they have well developed sub- 
 conscious religious sentiments. Such persons are ready to 
 experience genuine conversion. The revival in such cases 
 sometimes acts as a stimulus, and more quickly effects the 
 awakening of sentiments that would in the normal course of 
 events have become conscious later on. In other cases, it must 
 be admitted that the revival probably gives an extra push that 
 is really indispensable to bring the sentiment to consciousness 
 and so to secure its completion. Therefore the revival probably 
 benefits a few individuals. 
 
 But a far greater number of persons are harmed by revivals. 
 The harm done can be summed up under four heads. (1) Revi- 
 vals unduly excite many adolescents, making them nervous and 
 morbid at what in any event is a period of delicate mental and 
 physical readjustment. (2) Revivals often discourage many 
 persons who are led to look for conversion, but for whom con- 
 version is temperamentally impossible. Such persons often re- 
 proach themselves for sinful indifference because they cannot be- 
 come overwrought like more suggestible folk, and so they fear 
 that they are not Christians. (3) Revivals cheapen religion in 
 the minds of many pseudo-converts. Having themselves passed 
 through what they were told was conversion, they think that all 
 conversions are like their own pitiful pseudo-conversions, and 
 that religious people who fancy that they have passed through 
 some deep experience that has enriched their lives and given 
 them a comforting sense of God's presence and help, are only 
 unusually credulous and simple minded dupes. (4) Revivals 
 impede the advance of liberal religion. Since the revivalist 
 wishes to evoke ideas and emotions that are possessed by all 
 of his audience, he must appeal to the ideas and emotions of 
 their childhood. So his appeal is always to the religion of a 
 generation ago. He thus is nearly always a bigot, narrow 
 and intolerant in his attitude to those who know anything about 
 science, especialy about the conception of evolution and the 
 scientific study of the Bible. In an age when religious doctrines 
 must be thoroughly reconstructed, if religion is not to lose its 
 hold upon college graduates and intelligent people generally, 
 the revivalist blindly and stupidly resists all attempts at pro- 
 gress, 30. 
 
 IX Non-Religious Awakenings 
 Experiences in some respects similar to religious awakenings 
 
254 THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT 
 
 take place in connection with other changes in character and 
 personality. A vocation, rightly chosen, is a fundamental ex- 
 pression of one's personality. It therefore is the object of a 
 sentiment. Some young men so gradually grow into preference 
 for a vocation that they cannot say when they first knew that 
 they had made their choice of a life work. Others undergo 
 many painful efforts and struggles, including, perhaps, mis- 
 taken experiments, before they consciously reach the right de- 
 cision. Writers of romances have long made us aware that 
 similar principles hold true of the awakening of the sentiment 
 of love. Awareness of love may be a continuous growth from 
 a childhood friendship. Again, it may be the outcome of a 
 severe crisis, prior to which either the hero or the heroine has 
 been unaware of the love which subconsciously they had for 
 each other. Or the awakening may be one of the mixed 
 types involving a joyous spontaneous awakening, or a period 
 of doubts or storm and stress. Professor Starbuck furnishes 
 various instances of conversions and spontaneous awakenings 
 that are not of a religious character. Among these are cases 
 in which a study which the adolescent has long been unsuccess- 
 fully struggling to understand suddenly becomes clear to him. 
 He and James each furnishes an instance of "falling out of 
 love," in which a sentiment of love that has given the person 
 much trouble and has interfered with his or her best interests 
 has suddenly become eradicated as a result of previous struggles 
 and subconscious development. James also furnishes instances 
 in which the religious sentiment itself has been eradicated in a 
 manner analogous to conversion, as a result of subconscious 
 doubts that spontaneously burst upon consciousness, and the 
 persons after their "conversions" regarded themselves as be- 
 lievers in no religion, 31. 
 
 Does this mean that, psychologically considered, continuous 
 growth, conversion, and other forms of religious awakening 
 are in no respect different in principle from certain non-relig- 
 ious experiences? By no means. In cases of religious awaken- 
 ing the chief object of the religious sentiment is God that 
 is, an Agency, believed to be different from his ordinary ego 
 and yet psychical in character. This Agency is regarded with 
 love and reverence, and the supreme desire is that one's char- 
 acter shall be organized so as to conform to His commands. 
 In the non-religious instances the sentiment has no such object 
 as this. It follows that the awakening of no other sentiment 
 
RELATION TO GOD 255 
 
 will give to the individual the means to conserve his moral 
 values through such an Agency. Love of God, love of a 
 woman, and love of a vocation all involve the awakening of 
 sub-conscious processes, they all involve the organization of 
 emotions of loyalty and devotion about an object. However, 
 the emotion of reverence is not present in the same sense in the 
 latter two. While all three normally involve some heightening 
 of ideals and strengthening of the will, the moral values 
 recognized in each case and the changes in character effected 
 are fundamentally different. 
 
 X The Relation of God to Religious Awakenings 
 
 Religious awakening has thus far been viewed as a psycholog- 
 ical process involving the growth of the religious sentiment, 
 largely in the subconsciousness. The manner in which the 
 individual becomes aware of the sentiment, and enters into full 
 conscious possession and enjoyment of it determines . whether 
 the experience is one of continuous growth, conversion, or of a 
 mixed type. Does it follow that God is not really involved in 
 religious awakenings at all? Are they purely natural pro- 
 cesses? 
 
 Atheists, of course, would answer these questions emphatic- 
 ally in the affirmative. Agnostics would either also reply in the 
 affirmative, or regard the problem as incapable of solution. 
 However, the facts do not necessitate such conclusions. The 
 testimony of those who have experienced religious awakenings 
 is unanimous that in their opinion they come from God. Such 
 testimony of course by no means decides the matter ; but it is 
 worth something. Perhaps it may fairly be said to put the 
 burden of proof on those who claim that religious awakenings 
 do not come from God, but are purely subjective. 
 
 Those who believe that religious awakenings do come from 
 God differ somewhat as to the manner in which they so come. 
 Some writers, like Dr. Cutten, and (with more hesitation) 
 William James, believe that in such experiences an external 
 God, apparently outside of us just as we are outside of one 
 another, influences the subconsciousness of the individual. This 
 is quite possibly the case, so far as the known facts go, and 
 is in accordance with the testimony of those who have had such 
 experiences. On this view, it will be observed, the conception 
 of God is necessary on the plane of psychology, in order to 
 explain the facts. 
 
256 THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT 
 
 Other students of the question offer a philosophical explana- 
 tion, and not a psychological one. God, they argue, is not a 
 scientific explanation for a psychological fact any more than 
 for an astronomical or a chemical fact. On the plane of the 
 psychology of religion, just as of any other science, phenomena 
 should be explained on a purely naturalistic basis. For psychol- 
 ogy religious awakening is a natural process just as for physics 
 gravitation is a natural process. But philosophic ally consid- 
 ered, God is immanent in all natural processes, those described 
 by physics and psychology alike. According to this theory 
 a person experiencing a religious awakening becomes aware of 
 an immanent God, present in all things, but coming to His 
 highest expression in conscious beings, and most of all in pro- 
 found and enduring religious experiences, 32. 
 
 All this will become clearer as we proceed. This question 
 will be considered at greater length at the end of the follow- 
 ing chapter, in connection with prayer. The reader may 
 well reserve his decision in regard to it, however, until he has 
 completed Part III, in which the general philosophical ques- 
 tion of evidence for the existence of God is taken up. For, if 
 one finds the evidence sufficient to convince him that there 
 is a God, he will have no difficulty in believing that the individual 
 in some sense comes into consciousness of Him in his religious 
 awakening. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 *E. D. STARBTTCK, The Psychology of Religion. 
 
 *WILLIAM JAMES, The Varieties of Religious Experience., lectures IV-XV. 
 
 *GEORGE A. COE, The Spiritual Life. Education in Religion and Morals. 
 
 GEORGE A. COE, Psychology of Religion, Chapter X. 
 *EDWARD S. AMES, Psychology of Religious Experience, Part III. 
 *GEOROE B. CUTTEN, Psychological Phenomena of Christianity, Chapters 
 
 XIII, XIV, XVIII-XX. 
 
 *JAMES B. PRATT, Psychology of Religious Belief, Part III. The Relig- 
 ious Consciousness, Chapters V-IX. 
 
 G. E. DAwsoN/TTie Child and His Religion. 
 
 G. STANLEY HALL, Adolescence. 
 
 IRVING KING, The Psychology of Child Development. 
 
 AMY ELIZA TANNER, The Child. 
 
 J. SULLY, Studies in Childhood. 
 
 WILLIAM JAMES, Principles of Psychology. Psychology, Briefer Course. 
 
 ALEXANDER F. SHAND, Foundations of Character. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 PRAYER 
 
 I The Conversational Nature of Thought and Prayer (1) 
 As has been shown in Chapter XIV, the self of an individual 
 develops through intercourse with other persons. Now, social 
 intercourse very largely involves the use of language. Imita- 
 tion of others prompts the infant to employ his vocal cords 
 in speech as soon as the nerve cells are ripened sufficiently to 
 enable the requisite reflexes to function, and he rapidly acquires 
 skill in the use of the language he hears spoken about him. 
 Since language is heard by the infant in the conversation of 
 others before he is able to speak himself, and since his first use 
 of speech is in conversation with others, it follows as a natural 
 consequence that his private thinking also very often assumes 
 a conversational form. Sometimes, as he plays, he uncon- 
 sciously thinks aloud, and others hear what he says. Such 
 conversational thinking may all be addressed to an imaginary 
 alter, who makes appropriate replies, so that the child carries 
 on a complete dialogue, or it may assume a simpler monologue 
 form, 2. 
 
 Adults similarly carry on much of their private thought in 
 conversational form. Perhaps the best illustrations of mono- 
 logue thinking are cases where one has to go through some 
 routine that requires close attention to each step in the process, 
 such as opening the combination of a safe, or mixing the 
 ingredients of a recipe. In such instances, if the reader will 
 observe himself, he may find that he seems to hear or to move 
 his lips repeating the directions for each step in the process in 
 succession. Or, in recalling something that has been committed 
 to memory, thought naturally falls into this monologue form. 
 The simplest prayers, not greatly different in principle from 
 magical spells, such as those of the Toda dairyman priests, 
 referred to in Chapter III, are of this type, not being addressed 
 to any one. 
 
 The thought of adults often assumes the form of a dialogue. 
 The individual carries on a conversation in which an ego and 
 an alter participate. Thus a man may debate with himself as 
 
 257 
 
258 PRAYER 
 
 to whether he had better do this or that, the ego taking one 
 side and the alter the other; or the alter may commend or 
 condemn the ego, or excuse the ego; or, if a person is angry 
 at himself, the alter may even say spiteful things to hurt the 
 feelings of the ego. In such instances one feels that both ego 
 and alter are really to be identified with himself ; or if the alter 
 is not himself, it is, at any rate, his conscience. On other 
 occasions, the alter may assume the role of another person. 
 The ego is thought to be asking the advice of an absent friend, 
 and the alter is imagined to be saying what the friend would 
 probably reply. Before an interview with some important 
 personage who has little time ,to give, or who must be 
 approached tactfullv, one may imagine his ego suggesting 
 this and that, and the alter making the probable replies that 
 the person approached would be most likely to give. While 
 the reader may think it an exaggeration to claim that all our 
 private thinking whatever is conversational in character 
 (though some authorities have maintained this) he will be 
 convinced, if he watches his mental processes for a day or two, 
 that at least a great deal of his own private thinking does 
 assume these conversational forms, of monologue and dialogue. 
 Prayer, as practised in most religions (3) assumes the 
 dialogue form. The individual who prays identifies himself with- 
 the ego, and addresses his prayers to an alter, who he believes to 
 be superior to himself in power, and thus able to effect what he 
 could not accomplish alone. The alter in the primitive religion 
 might be a fetich, a spirit or a ghost, or one of the gods. In 
 the spiritual religions the Alter is God, a Being who embodies 
 the highest and loftiest aspirations of the ego. 
 
 The self, as we have seen, develops through social inter- 
 course with other persons. We may now add, that the self also 
 develops through its own private thinking, "when the ego holds 
 conversations with alteri. The Alter of religious prayer 
 embodies some ideal to which the individual aspires in his own 
 life, some value which he seeks ; the Alter is in some sense what 
 he would be. The individual through prayer in some measure 
 is strengthened and fortified, and enabled to realize these ideals 
 in his own life and character. This is true, not only in the 
 spiritual religions, but also, sometimes at least, in the 
 higher religions of the naturalistic type. In ancient Greece a 
 family would have its own tomb, generally near the house, 
 where all its ancestors were buried, and offerings were regularly 
 
CONVERSATIONAL NATURE 259 
 
 paid, and prayers addressed. "Thus, the ancestor remained 
 in the midst of his relatives; invisible, but always present, he 
 continued to make a part of the family, and to be its father. 
 Immortal, happy, divine, he was still interested in all of his 
 whom he had left upon the earth. He knew their needs, and 
 sustained their feebleness, and . . . (the man) . . . who 
 still lived, who labored, had near him his guides and supports 
 his forefathers. In the midst of difficulties, he invoked their 
 ancient wisdom ; in grief, he asked consolation of them ; in 
 danger, he asked their support, and after a fault, their 
 pardon," 4. 
 
 We can readily perceive that ancestral worship of this sort 
 as it existed in ancient Greece and still exists in China and 
 Japan, must be a great source of comfort and strength. 
 Through such prayer the worshipper must become more or less 
 like his ideal of his ancestor. And this ideal, in all probability 
 is superior morally to the ancestor himself. We idealize those 
 whom we love and revere. Still, such an ideal clearly has its 
 limitations. It must be too nearly on the human level. So, 
 when gods are worshipped, who belong on a higher plane 
 altogether than human beings, the possibility of idealisation 
 will be greater and the men who worship such gods as ideals 
 will often receive higher uplift than worship of deceased ances- 
 tors could afford. When polvtheism gives place to monotheism, 
 instead of the many gods, all representing differing ideals and 
 none standing for absolute perfection by any means, appears 
 the worship of a single God who comprises all socially recog- 
 nized moral perfection within Himself. The Alter of prayer 
 then for the first time embodies the very highest ideals of which 
 man is able to conceive. The effect upon him who prays will 
 then be to give him a more coherent, unified character, and to 
 inspire him in every way in the highest manner possible. It 
 has been shown in Part I that the general advance in the evolu- 
 tion of religion from the natural religions to the spiritim! 
 religions, and, within the latter, from narrower to wider 
 horizons, has largely consisted in constant enlargement, enrich- 
 ment, and purification of the conceptions of the divine. This 
 evolution has made purer and loftier Alteri available for 
 prayer; and, in that way individual worshippers have been 
 able to advance in moral discernment and appreciation. Such 
 sublime Alteri are the God of Judaism and the Christ of Chris- 
 tianity. One reason why these religions continue to live is 
 
260 PRAYER 
 
 because their Alteri have in every age grown with increased 
 Jewish and Christian moral and religious experience, 5. 
 
 II Types of Prayer 
 
 A classification of different types of prayer will be useful. 
 The distinction between Monologue and Dialogue Prayers ha? 
 already been made. Dialogue prayers may be subdivided into 
 Individual and Community prayers. In the former, the ego is 
 a single individual praying by himself. In the latter, the ego 
 is a group of persons, e. g., a congregation in a church or 
 synagogue praying together. In the case of community prayer, 
 it is not essential that the group of persons repeat the prayer 
 together; they may do so or a minister or priest may repeat 
 the prayer for them; the prayer may constitute part of a 
 liturgy or it may be an "extemporaneous" prayer composed 
 by the minister upon the spot. All that is necessary to consti- 
 tute a community prayer is that a group feel that they 
 personally are sharing in a mutual prayer to the Alter of their 
 religious faith. If a number of individuals were to pray in 
 different places and at different times of the clay for a common 
 purpose, the prayer in most respects would have the psycho- 
 logical characteristics of a Community prayer. 
 
 Each of these types of prayer, Individual and Community, 
 may be subdivided into Aesthetic and Egoistic prayers.. In the 
 Aesthetic prayer, attention is centered upon the Alter; in the 
 Egoistic prayer, attention is centered upon the ego. In both 
 types the Alter is recognized to be superior to the ego in moral 
 worth and in power, and the attitude of the ego toward the 
 Alter is one of submission, awe, and reverence. But in the 
 aesthetic type, attention is centered on the Alter, and the 
 prayer assumes the form of praise or communion. The familiar 
 hymn, "Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty" is a good 
 example. Many of the Hebrew Psalms assume this form for 
 instance the twenty-fourth, beginning, "The earth is the Lord's, 
 and the fulness thereof." Sometimes, aesthetic prayer assumes 
 an extremely mystical form, and the ego seeks, not simply 
 communion with the Alter, but complete identification with or 
 absorption in the Alter. Miss Strong cites a Vedic hymn 
 illustrative of this: 
 
 "Hail to thee, mighty Lord, all potent Vishnu, 
 
 Soul of the Universe, unchangeable, 
 
 Holy, eternal, always one in nature, 
 Whether revealed as Brahma, Hari, S'iva 
 
TYPES 261 
 
 Creator or Preserver or Destroyer, 
 
 I come to Thee for refuge 
 
 Renouncing all attachment to the world, 
 
 Longing for fulness of felicity, 
 
 Extinction of myself, absorption into Thee."6 
 
 The well known prayer of Marcus Aurelius is a noble example 
 of this attitude at its best: "Everything harmonizes with me 
 which is harmonious to thee, O Universe. Nothing for me is 
 too early nor too late which is in due time for thee. Everything 
 is fruit to me which thy seasons bring. O Nature, from thee are 
 all things, in thee are all things, to thee all things return," 7. 
 This type of prayer is called aesthetic, because, like all aesthetic 
 contemplation, the individual feels drawn out of himself and his 
 own needs and interests into a larger whole of some sort. If 
 the reader will consider how he feels when in the presence of 
 some painting or sculpture, or of a panorama of natural 
 scenery, or when listening to music that appeals profoundly 
 to him, he will recognize how such an experience for the time 
 being takes one out of oneself into a larger life and is satisfying 
 for that reason. Persons very fond of natural scenery, some- 
 times treasure the memory of such experiences and find them 
 of help in hours of loneliness and depression, as is illustrated by 
 Wordsworth's Lines Written Above Tintern Abbey and Ode to 
 the Daffodils. 
 
 The Egoistic type of prayer is of course not egotistical, nor 
 is it ordinarily selfish in any bad sense of the word. In it the 
 individual seeks some benefit to himself, and his effort is to 
 disclose his needs to the Alter to whom he looks for aid. Prayers 
 of petition and confession belong here. Egoistic prayers may 
 be Naturalistic (i. e., those typical of naturalistic religions 
 as described in Part I), in which material goods for the Ego 
 are sought ; rain, crops, posterity, long life, victory in war, 
 omens, oracles, etc. ; or they may be ethical, in which some 
 moral benefit to the ego is sought, forgiveness of sins, conver- 
 sion, purity of heart, wisdom, self-control, strength for the 
 day's work, and the like. Naturalistic and ethical prayers are 
 often made for material and moral blessings to other persons 
 for whose benefit the individual who prays is concerned. Such 
 prayer can be regarded as egoistic in the sense that persons 
 whose welfare is a matter of solicitude to the individual 
 virtually constitute a part of his larger self or ego, so that in 
 the mental attitude of prayer they are identified with himself 
 in contrast to the Alter from whom aid is sought. Christian 
 
262 PRAYER 
 
 illustrations of egoistic prayers will readily occur to the reader. 
 The prayer of Socrates in the Phaedrus of Plato will serve as a 
 non-Christian example of a highly ethical type: "Beloved Pan, 
 and all ye other gods who haunt this place, give me beauty in 
 the inward soul ; and may the outward and inward man be 
 at one. May I reckon the wise to be the wealthy, and may I 
 have such a quantity of gold as a temperate man and he only 
 can bear and carry," 8. 
 
 As an example of a Community prayer for the most part of 
 the aesthetic type, one might cite the Te Deum Laudamus (We 
 Praise Thee O God) which has been called the "greatest hvmn 
 of the Christian church." A Jewish community prayer of the 
 ethical type is "Bless our children, O God, and help us so to 
 fashion their souls, by precept and example, that they shall 
 ever love the good, flee from sin, revere Thy word and honor 
 Thy name. May they, planted in the house of the Lord, flourish 
 in the courts of our God ; may they guard for future ages the 
 truths revealed to their forefathers," 9. 
 
 Ill Merits and Limitations of Each Type of Prayer 
 
 Reserving the full consideration of the efficacy of prayer to 
 a later section in the chapter, it will be convenient at this point 
 to estimate the value of each of these types of prayer. The 
 aesthetic type is calming and comforting. The worshipper 
 is transported from his ordinary life, with its cares, its 
 annoyances and limitations, into the bosom of the Infinite. 
 Keen aesthetic joy is felt. Relaxation is afforded to over- 
 wrought nerves and fatigued minds and bodies. The individual 
 gains confidence, as he feels himself supported by power greater 
 than that of his conscious self. God is his refuge, and he feels 
 strong and secure in the everlasting arms. 
 
 The naturalistic type of prayer in this age of scientific 
 enlightenment, has almost disappeared, 10. People as a rule 
 know too much of the uniformity of natural law to believe it 
 possible that prayer can change the order of natural events. 
 The ethical type of prayer is of value for the promotion of 
 moral discernment and reformation, as well as for increase of 
 efficiency in all good deeds. Confession of sins forces the indi- 
 vidual to realize his shortcomings and sincerely repent of 
 them. At the same time, the reinforcing power of the Alter 
 enables him to overcome like temptations in the future. Discern- 
 ment of duty, clarification of moral values for which to strive, 
 
TYPES 263 
 
 and consecration to the call of service are all effected through 
 ethical prayer. 
 
 No one of these types of prayer should be used to the exclu- 
 sion of the others. The aesthetic prayer, employed alone, would 
 lead to inactivity. Absorbed in blissful contemplation of God 
 the worshipper would forget to perform his obligations to his 
 fellow men. The worst example of this perhaps is to be found 
 in Brahmanism, where the individual worshipper may become 
 so absorbed in Brahma as to be indifferent to actual suffering 
 about him ; but all too often Christian mystics have been too 
 intent upon the bliss of private devotion to be of much active 
 service in righting the wrongs of their fellow men. Perhaps 
 the chief danger in the ethical prayer is to be found in the 
 development of a morbid sense of sin. To recognize one's 
 faults, repent of them, and make an honest attempt to overcome 
 them, is a healthful effect of ethical prayer. But to brood over 
 real or fancied wrong doing to the point of sickness of mind 
 and body is hurtful. In these days of activity, however, there 
 are probably more persons who do not take time enough for 
 ethical prayer to know their sins than there are who spend 
 so much time grieving over them that they become morbid. The 
 remedy for the dangers attending the over use of either of 
 these types of prayer is of course to make use of the other type 
 in due proportion. 
 
 The great value of the community prayer is found in its 
 development of the social sense in religion. Consciousness of 
 "the tie that binds" is found in public worship in the company 
 of co-religionists. Sanity in moral and religious thought, 
 feeling, and action is gained through public devotions. If 
 private prayer were to be used by anyone to the exclusion of 
 community prayer there would be grave danger that the Alter 
 of such an individual would be narrow and unsymmetrical. Into 
 his conception of God would be projected the narrow prejudices 
 and bigotry of the man himself. Prayer to God, so conceived, 
 might intensify hatred and fanaticism. But community worship 
 is comparatively free from this danger. Common worship 
 loosens the individual's prejudices, and affords him a wider 
 outlook. More virtues are opened before him for cultivation, 
 and more opportunities for active service become known to 
 him. The larger the religious denomination, the longer its 
 history, the wider its dispersion in different lands, the broader 
 and finer is likely to be the ideal Alter of its prayers. This 
 
264 PRAYER 
 
 is one reason why liberals in the present generation should 
 remain in communion with the historic religious bodies in which 
 they have been nurtured. Newly organized religious commun- 
 ions, through their inexperience and almost inevitable 
 absorption in a few limited ideals, are bound to be less broad 
 and catholic in their outlook. Fanaticism is today more often 
 found among the radical than among the conservative religious 
 bodies. This consideration also affords an argument in favor 
 of the federation of religious organizations. When two historic 
 religious denominations can unite, a wider experience in the 
 future will assure them a finer and more helpful conception of 
 God as the Alter of their prayers. What broad and deep 
 conceptions of God will be afforded to the American of a few 
 centuries hence, when the descendants of present Protestants, 
 Catholics, and Jews form an organic union, and bring their 
 various rich heritages of religious experience into common 
 worship of the Father whom they all love and revere! 
 
 It goes without saying that private prayer, too, has its 
 claims upon the religious man. Public prayer cannot be 
 specific enough to meet all his private wants. He needs to take 
 the details of his daily living into his closet with his God. It 
 is easy to repeat, "Lord, be merciful to us, miserable sinners," 
 in company with the esteemed people one sees all about one upon 
 their knees ; it seems a very fashionable, highly respectable thing 
 to do. But it is a different matter to say, with sincerity, when 
 all by oneself with one's God, "Lord, be merciful to me, a 
 miserable sinner ! " 
 
 The conclusion, then, with regard to the various types of 
 prayer is, that each has its value. All require cultivation. No 
 one can cultivate his religious life to best advantage without 
 the fellowship and sustaining strength of men and women of 
 like religious profession. On the contrary, no one can thrive 
 religiously without private personal communion with the great 
 Alter of his religious experience. Everyone needs the uplift 
 of aesthetic prayer to rise above the humdrum of every day 
 life with its ordinary routine of details and problems ; while 
 every one needs the moral cleansing and spiritual reinforcement 
 that come from contact with his Alter as moral counsellor, 
 whether through his own personal initiative, or with the assist- 
 ance of his father confessor, as his religious upbringing may 
 dictate. 
 
THE SUBCONSCIOUS 265 
 
 IV Prayer and the Subconscious 
 
 The psychological theory of prayer is chiefly conceived with 
 the relation of the subconsciousness to the conscious self. In 
 prayer, of whatever type, the worshipper feels the presence of 
 power that is greater than himself, made available for him 
 through the Alter. Psychologically speaking, this reinforce- 
 ment comes from the subconscious. 
 
 As William James has shown, 11, we all possess considerable 
 reserve powers of subconscious energy. We ordinarily desist 
 from a piece of work when we begin to feel fatigue. But if an 
 unusual necessity drives us on, we continue, and the fatigue 
 passes away, and we feel fresher than before. We have gotten 
 our "second wind." Stored up in the brain and nervous system, 
 as well as elsewhere in the organism, are large reserve resources 
 of energy of which ordinarily we are unaware. There are vari- 
 ous ways of tapping these sources. A new position of respon- 
 sibility may cause a man to wake up and to achieve great things 
 of which neither he nor anyone else had deemed him capable, as 
 in the case of Cromwell and Grant. Aroused by an emergency 
 at the siege of Delhi, Colonel Baird-Smith, by making free use 
 of brandy and opium, was able to tap his subconscious sources 
 of energy, although he was suffering with scurvy, and had one 
 foot threatened with mortification. He performed almost super- 
 human feats of courage and kept together a band of devoted 
 soldiers until relief came. Ascetic discipline in Yoga practices 
 and the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola have turned 
 dreamy orientals and discouraged Jesuits into marvelous men 
 of action. A suggestive idea often has the same effect. Such 
 is the case with Fletcher's pupils who keep before their minds 
 the idea that they are chewing and rechewing their food. A 
 slogan or rallying cry may call forth the reserve powers of a 
 nation in a crisis: "Fatherland," the "Flag," the "Union," 
 "Holy Church," the "Monroe Doctrine," "Truth," "Science," 
 "Liberty," Garibaldi's "Rome or Death," and (at the time) 
 Wilson's "Make the world safe for democracy." These are 
 all keys capable of tapping such powers in hosts of men, and 
 of leading them to achievements of which they had not known 
 themselves capable. 
 
 One means of approach to such reserve powers is found 
 through, the agency of the Alter, present in dialogue prayer. 
 This is the reason, probably, why as a matter of fact, if 
 
266 PRAYER 
 
 sufficiently hard pressed, we all do pray, however great our 
 religious skepticism may be at other times. Here is a source 
 of energy that gives reinforcement in emergencies, to which 
 appeal is always open. The emergency may be a physical crisis, 
 like the picturesque case of Robert Lyde, an imprisoned sailor, 
 who, by the aid of prayer, with an English boy overcame a 
 crew of seven Frenchmen and brought home the ship to 
 England, 11 ; or it may be of a more spiritual character. What- 
 ever it is, through prayer we often do obtain saving experiences. 
 The organism is enabled to react to an emergency for which 
 the powers of which it is conscious are unavailing. 
 
 Two difficulties need to be answered in connection with this 
 view of the relation of the subconscious to prayer. (1) Is 
 prayer to be regarded as merely another means of tapping 
 subconscious energy, to be classified with the employment of 
 flags and bands of music and slogans, and even with Fletcher- 
 izing one's food, with Yoga practise, and with the use of brandy 
 and opium? The reply is, the author believes, that only to 
 a certain extent are the psychological principles similar, while 
 there is a profound ethical and moral difference between prayer 
 and the other cases. In every spiritual religion appeal is always 
 to a higher and more ideal Self. When the Buddhist takes his 
 refuge in the Buddha and engages in meditation, the Alter is 
 the embodiment of his highest ideals ; the God of Jew and 
 Christian is holy, just, wise, and merciful, and the chief end 
 of man is to glorify Him and enjoy Him forever. So the 
 prayers of spiritual religions effect moral reinforcement of 
 character through the action of the Alter, such as would be 
 impossible to the same extent through any other agency. It 
 follows that in some important respects prayer involves unique 
 psychological principles. In effecting such a synthesis of moral 
 sentiments, prayer psychologically has a different function 
 from other means of tapping subconscious energy. The influx 
 of energy due to prayer effects a more extensive and permanent 
 co-ordination of springs to action. 
 
 (2) The second difficulty to be met is this. On this theory, 
 all prayer in all religions taps subconscious energy. And in 
 all spiritual religions prayer effects a reinforcement of moral 
 character. Does it matter, then, to what Alter one prays? 
 Is the prayer of the Moslem to Allah of equal moral value 
 with the prayers of American Jews and Christians? Well, it 
 is not necessary to say that all Alteri are equally developed 
 
DISCRIMINATIONS 267 
 
 morally, or that all are equally adequate likenesses of the God 
 of the Universe (if the philosophical inquiry in Part III leads 
 us to accept the hypothesis of God). We shall have to admit 
 a measure of truth and moral worth in all religions, and that 
 prayer is answered in them all. But as humanity has advanced, 
 we have found that its conception of God has advanced also. 
 All religions contain some measure of goodness and truth ; but 
 those religions that make effective the ethically best and 
 logically most rationally conceived Alter are best and truest. 
 
 V Prayer Tends to Become Discriminating 
 
 As people become more thoughtful they cease to pay unhesi- 
 tatingly for anything whatever that they desire. They begin 
 to discriminate, and to restrict the variety of their petitions. 
 Experience teaches them that prayers for material changes 
 in the external world are unavailing. Rain and dry weather 
 come just the same, whether one prays for them or not. Reflec- 
 tion leads people also to cease praying for some things that 
 might be gained through prayer, but which one feels it is not 
 right to pray for. As the God of religion becomes conceived 
 of as absolutely good and holy, one hesitates to ask Him for 
 something petty and trivial. Miss Strong says that some 
 college girls have admitted to her that they have prayed for 
 success in basketball games or in examinations, but have made 
 the admission somewhat shamefacedly. Such prayers undoubt- 
 edly would be likely to be efficacious. Sub-conscious energy 
 would be released, and the person's efficiency would be increased. 
 But to some persons of refinement and high ideals it almost 
 seems like a profanation of the sanctuary of the heart to use 
 its beautiful and intimate relation to God for any but the 
 highest purposes. However, only people of education and 
 spiritual refinement feel such scruples. Professor Coe evidently 
 thinks it well for the child and the uneducated farmer to pray 
 for rain. "A little child, seeing a storm cloud rising, stops 
 his play, kneels on the lawn, and begs God not to let it rain. 
 This is real prayer; . . . because he assumes toward God 
 a personal relation that is appropriate for a little child. . . . 
 Just so, the simple believer who asks that he may have rain 
 for his wheat-field, truly prays. His praying will not alter 
 the order of nature, in which rain has its place, but through 
 his prayer he assumes a relation of conscious dependence and 
 trust toward God, and rightly assumes that God is interested 
 
268 PRAYER 
 
 in wheat. By bringing his daily occupation to God, the farmer 
 attains to something greater than wheat, however to a spirit- 
 ual relationship that is of ultimate worth," 12. Saint Teresa 
 is quoted by Miss Strong to similar effect: "I laugh and 
 grieve at the things people come to ask our prayers for. They 
 should rather beg of God that he would enable them to trample 
 such foolery under their feet." Still, to encourage them to 
 come at all, the convent accepts such prayers and offers them, 
 though, she says, "I am persuaded our Lord never heard me 
 in these matters for persons even request us to ask His 
 Majesty for money and revenues." Similar reasoning, no doubt, 
 has led the Roman Catholic Church in Southern Europe to 
 preserve unauthenticated relics of saints, and to permit peasants 
 to believe the country lore regarding miracles performed at 
 shrines, although the Church never certifies any relic as 
 genuine, nor that prayers at any shrine actually are efficacious 
 in performing miracles. 
 
 How far the religious credulity of children and uneducated 
 people should be allowed to remain undisturbed is of course a 
 serious question. One does not like to take the responsibility 
 of disturbing their faith, and risk removing the source of 
 strength and comfort and stimulation to higher things that 
 their religion affords them. At the same time there always is 
 the danger that such people, disappointed in finding impossible 
 prayers unanswered will presently lose their faith entirely. An 
 American child who had been encouraged to pray for rain in 
 a time of drought was once discovered wrathfully shaking his 
 fist at the sky. When asked the reason he replied, "I am angry 
 at God because He won't give us what we ask for." The 
 bitterest enemies of religion during the past two generations 
 have often been people who were brought up in surroundings 
 of primitive credulity, and taught that to doubt anything is 
 a grievous sin. Such persons if they become emancipated from 
 nai've beliefs are very likely to think that all religion is down- 
 right superstition. 
 
 Teachers of religion are learning to recognize that when 
 people begin to think, and to discover that prayers of some 
 sorts do not avail, the only sure way to induce them to continue 
 to pray at all is to show them how to discriminate intelligently 
 between the purposes for which prayer is efficacious, and those 
 for which it is not. Moreover, to incite them to appreciate the 
 higher and better things and to pray for them, it is necessary 
 
EFFICACY 269 
 
 to lead people to discriminate between the things for which it 
 seems morally right to pray, and those too trivial for prayer. 
 In the main, the author believes that it will be found that the 
 purposes for which prayer is unavailing and those which moral 
 reflection will show are undeserving of prayer coincide. From 
 a moral standpoint we really could not desire that prayer were 
 efficacious in any respect in which it is not efficacious. 
 
 VI The Efficacy of Prayer 
 
 We shall consider in order the efficacy of prayer in its effects 
 
 (1) upon the mind and character of the person who prays; 
 
 (2) upon his body; (3) upon the minds and bodies of other 
 persons for whom he prays; and (4) upon the physical 
 environment. 
 
 1. The possible effects of prayer upon the mind and char- 
 acter of the person who prays are very great. The only 
 apparent conditions are faith in the process of prayer itself, 
 and persistence. Peace of mind, calmness, cheerfulness, wisdom, 
 courage, selfmastery, fairmindedness in dealing with others, 
 and all other moral virtues are open to him who prays. One 
 may learn to exercise charity to all and malice toward none. 
 One may progress in the pursuit of every ambition that is 
 sanctioned by one's conscience. One may develop into the sort 
 of man morally that it is one's ideal to become. There is no 
 virtue to which man aspires, no vice which he would overcome, 
 for which prayer will not avail. To be sure, a man born with 
 an unusually strong pugnacious instinct may not necessarily 
 become a model of gentleness through prayer, and a man with 
 an unusually imperious sexual instinct may not necessarily find 
 continence easy; though even such achievements through 
 prayer have not infrequently occurred. But the pugnacity of 
 the former man may be taught invariably to blend with his 
 tender emotion to form the complex emotion of moral indigna- 
 tion, and the virtue of courage may consequently become so pre- 
 eminent in such a man that he will be a leader in every splendid 
 fight for good ends and noble purposes. In the case of the man 
 with apparently too strong erotic desires, sex impulses may 
 become sublimated into artistic activity, and render him gifted 
 in art, literature, or music; or it may endow him with unusual 
 athletic prowess or intellectual acuteness. Any powerful 
 instinct, which, untamed, is liable to lead a man to his ruin, may 
 
270 PRAYER 
 
 through earnest prayer, and consecration to the Alter, become 
 so trained as to become one of his most valuable assets. 
 
 2. The possible effects of prayer upon the bodily health 
 of the person who prays are also great. Just how far they 
 extend, and where their limits will be found are questions of 
 therapeutics to be determined in each particular case by the 
 combined experience of physicians and clergymen, 13. Roughly 
 speaking, it is safe to claim that very many functional diseases 
 can be cured by means of prayer. Functional diseases may be 
 defined as those in which no organic tissue has been destroyed, 
 so that organs remain intact, but in which their activity is 
 excessive, defective, or in some way irregular. Ordinary head- 
 aches, constipation, indigestion, and nervousness would be 
 examples. Even in these cases, however, simple prayer alone 
 would not always suffice. Intense prayer long continued with 
 the assistance of the suggestions induced by a mental healer 
 would be likely to be necessary. Whether such heroic treatment, 
 possibly involving some risk of permanent mental injury, would 
 be advisable would depend upon the circumstances. It would 
 be foolish to treat a temporary case of constipation by such 
 means when some simple drug would be safer and equally or 
 more effective. While Jesus and his apostles cured sick folk 
 through religious means exclusively (i. e., faith and prayer) 
 it must be remembered that the ordinary divine healer of our 
 times lacks their good judgment, and that the scientific under- 
 standing of the use of drugs has now made simpler and less 
 dangerous modes of treatment available for many disorders. 
 
 While the usefulness of the prayers of the divine healer, even 
 in the treatment of functional disorders, is therefore restricted 
 and should never be resorted to without previous diagnosis by 
 a competent physician, there is of course no reason why a 
 patient suffering from a functional disorder should not 
 earnestly pray, together with the members of his family, for 
 his recovery. Such prayers will assist all the more in effecting 
 a recovery if good nursing and competent medical attendance 
 are also employed. 
 
 Organic diseases are those in which organic tissue has been 
 wholly or partly injured or destroyed, such as tuberculosis, 
 cancer, paresis, and the like. Acute diseases include infections, 
 such as typhoid fever and pneumonia. In cases of these kinds, 
 prayer alone can no more be expected to effect a cure than it can 
 
EFFICACY 271 
 
 to set a broken bone, make a crooked back straight, or restore 
 an arm or leg that has been shot away in battle. 
 
 Alleged cases where persons are reported to have been cured 
 of paralysis, tuberculosis, and like diseases by divine healing 
 have never been authenticated. -Usually diagnosis may be 
 presumed to have been at fault. Hysterical cases of paralysis 
 where the patient imagines himself unable to move, and so 
 actually cannot move by his own volition, but where no injury 
 to the brain has actually occurred, can be cured, just as they 
 have been caused, by suggestion. However, it is well known 
 that the progress of an incurable disease may be somewhat 
 checked if the patient remains in a cheerful frame of mind, and 
 that his courage and confidence increase his chance of recovery 
 from an infectious fever or a surgical operation. So that 
 while the power of prayer in such cases is restricted, it may 
 be of assistance in connection with other agencies. 
 
 In cases of incurable disease, prayer can do something for 
 the patient that is really of more moral significance than 
 recovery. Everyone has known invalids whose minds, sustained 
 by religion, have become strong forces for good in every way 
 among those about them. What person condemned to death 
 from sickness would not prefer to meet his end like a man, and 
 to leave tender memories of his last days to those who mourn 
 him! Through prayer, an incurable invalid may overcome 
 irritability and despondency ; and, instead of being an affliction, 
 he may become a benediction to those to whom he is dear, and 
 the close of his life may be a stronger influence for good than 
 had been his years of health and strength. The sufferer who 
 does not understand the psychological nature and limitations 
 of prayer, or who has not been told the nature of his disease 
 and is unaware that it is incurable will naturally pray for 
 his recovery. His prayer will not be literally answered; but 
 if it enables him to draw upon the reserve powers of his 
 subconsciousness it may give him calmness and courage and 
 make a moral hero of him. The better informed invalid, who 
 knows the incurable nature of his sickness and who also knows 
 both the power and the limitations of prayer will pray, not 
 for recovery, but that he may have calmness, courage, and 
 cheerful resignation. Such an one will be certain not to lose 
 confidence in prayer, since he understands precisely what he 
 may expect from it, and will not be embittered by disappoint- 
 
272 PRAYER 
 
 ment, but will learn how to rise above his suffering and quit 
 himself bravely and manfully. 
 
 3. The possible effects of prayer upon the minds and bodies 
 of other persons will be similar to those described, provided one 
 of two conditions is met; EITHER that the person who is 
 prayed for knows that he is prayed for, OR that the person who 
 prays comes into social contact with the person for whom he 
 'prays. If a wandering son knows that his mother is praying 
 for him, this thought will touch his sympathies, and may bring 
 to the surface of conscious attention memories that have been 
 dormant, and release long suppressed or forgotten impulses and 
 aspirations that will again make a man of him. Perhaps it 
 ought to be added, that the extent of the influence of this 
 form of prayer depends considerably upon the esteem which the 
 person who is prayed for holds for those who are praying for 
 him. An honest sinner will feel little but contempt for what 
 he believes to be the Pharisaical attitude of those in the village 
 prayer meeting who pray publicly for him, and such prayers 
 may do more harm than good. The value of such intercessory 
 prayer depends upon the character of the person who prays, 
 and officious busybodies who have and deserve to have, no moral 
 influence in other ways upon another person, will not gain 
 such influence over him through prayer. 
 
 If the person who prays comes into social contact with those 
 others for whom he prays, his prayers may avail without the 
 others knowing that he is praying for them. In such cases 
 the person who prays will receive through prayer personal 
 strength, wisdom, and self control in dealing with others ; and 
 their attitude will change in response to his altered attitude 
 toward them. A good woman, when she heard any member 
 of her family find fault with some one whom he disliked, was 
 in the habit of asking the critic, "Do you pray for him?" It 
 was a just rebuke. It is impossible to pray honestly for any 
 one and not learn to appreciate the good in him, and to adopt 
 a more human attitude toward him. And this cannot fail to 
 have some influence upon the person in question. 
 
 The discussion thus far has chiefly been regarding the 
 efficacy of individual prayer. The principles stated hold in a 
 similar manner in each case for community prayer. // a group 
 of persons were sincerely to pray for mental and moral changes 
 in themselves these would follow almost without limit. A 
 congregation who prayed that they might be filled with charity 
 
EFFICACY 273 
 
 and brotherly love for one another would gain that for which 
 they prayed. Two quarreling church factions that could be 
 induced to come together in such a service and pray, not at 
 each other, but to God that they might learn to love and respect 
 each other, would speedily learn to dwell together like brethren 
 in unity. Prayers that the church might be consecrated to 
 greater service in the locality, to purer living, and to sincerer 
 devotion to all that is true, good, and beautiful would likewise 
 be certain of fulfilment. If the congregation were to pray for 
 better social and moral conditions in the city in which they 
 live, such prayers would be liable to be effective in some measure 
 if the people in the city generally knew that the church people 
 were praying thus, and much more, if the church people, 
 strengthened and inspired by their prayers, were to increase 
 and make more effective their points of social contact in the 
 city. 
 
 What is true of a city is true, of course, still more of the 
 nation as a whole. Some one has said that the modern man 
 does not know how to repent for the sins of his city or nation. 
 Suppose that in all the churches and synagogues of a city or 
 of a nation one day every week the communicants were to come 
 together and pray after this manner: "O God, we confess to 
 Thee our remorse and shame at the sins of society for which we 
 as citizens are in large measure to blame. We have permitted 
 little children in this city (or nation) to be deprived of school- 
 ing and put to long hours of excessive labor that we might 
 buy cheaper clothing. We have permitted young girls to be 
 led into the horrors of white slavery partly because we were too 
 indifferent to provide decent places of amusement so that their 
 only chance of recreation was in questionable surroundings ; 
 partly because we were too greedy to obtain profits from 
 business, or to buy cheap merchandise, to insist that working 
 girls be paid living wages, and partly because we were too 
 indifferent to provide places in our homes where our domestic 
 servants could suitably entertain their friends. We have been 
 bigoted in our hostility to every attempt of workingmen to 
 better their conditions and have uncharitably criticized the 
 mistakes of their unions instead of trying to sympathize with 
 them and to help them. We have been fanatical in our hatred 
 of successful business men and heads of corporations and have 
 failed to appreciate their services to society, or to understand 
 the difficulties under which they work. We have each of us 
 
274 PRAYER 
 
 been concerned with his own personal and family interests am 
 refused to take an interest in elections, or to be candidates fo 
 office ourselves, and we have unthinkingly and cruelly abusec 
 those who were willing to do so. Lord, we have all erred am 
 strayed from Thy ways in neglect of our obligations to thi 
 city (or nation) have mercy upon us, miserable sinners!" I 
 we could imagine such a confession as this being honestl; 
 repeated weekly in every place of worship in any city or in th 
 land as a whole, can we imagine that it would be long befor 
 the reserve energies of the city or nation would be brough 
 into action, and that these shameful iniquities would be removec 
 from us ! In like manner, if in all the places of worship ii 
 the countries involved in the late war, Christian, Jewish am 
 Moslem alike, the worshippers were to pray sincerely in confes 
 sion of their own shortcomings and in desire to understand th 
 point of view of their enemies, would it be long before inter 
 national justice and the civic and political rights of al 
 individuals of every race and nation could in some way b 
 assured by universal agreement, and future wars be renderec 
 impossible? 
 
 4. Can prayer have any effect upon the physical environ 
 ment whatever? Perhaps many readers who have agreed witl 
 the general course of the argument thus far would emphatically 
 say, No. But, in a sense we shall see that even the physica 
 environment may be modified through prayer. The reportec 
 saying of Jesus that through faith his followers might removi 
 mountains has seemed to many to be legendary, or figurative 
 or Oriental hyperbole. But in our time have not mountain! 
 actually been removed through faith? Railways have beei 
 built over the great back bone of the continent, so that oui 
 Atlantic Coast has become only four days' travel from tin 
 Pacific Ocean. The mountains at the Isthmus of Panama hav( 
 been removed and cast into the sea, so that ships may pas; 
 from one ocean to the other. And when one reads of the diffi- 
 culties which had to be overcome by those who have achievec 
 these great tasks, one marvels at their faith. Wherever mat 
 learns the way to overcome the difficulties in his physical 
 environment, prayer, by releasing reserve powers of subcon 
 scious energy, will strengthen his faith and courage, and wil 
 render him able to carry out his task. Prayer therefore maij 
 be of incalculable aid to mankind in the great task of rendering 
 physical nature suited to the needs of an advancing civilization 
 
EFFICACY 275 
 
 This leads us to our practical conclusion in regard to the 
 efficacy of prayer. Prayer is efficacious, never as a substitute 
 for action, but as a guide and stimulus to action. This is true 
 of prayer, just as it is true of all forms of consciousness. Our 
 minds, whatever theory we may hold of their relation to our 
 bodies and to the external world, do not of themselves ever 
 change the course of events. Mere thinking cannot ever raise 
 our feet from the ground, much less displace a particle of 
 matter external to our bodies. One might sit in his room all 
 day and think hard of his breakfast, but that would not bring 
 it to him. But his thoughts can very well guide his feet in the 
 direction of the dining room. Likewise mere prayer without 
 action on the part of the person who prays will accomplish 
 nothing. The hordes of monks in Constantinople in 1453 who 
 stayed in their cloisters praying that the Blessed Virgin would 
 deliver the city from the Turks did not understand the 
 psychology of prayer, and it was not long before Mohammed II 
 entered the city and the Byzantine Empire was at an end. 
 Had they understood the simple principle just laid down, and 
 with the "Holy Virgin" as their rallying cry, taken their part 
 assisting in the defense of the city, it is possible that they 
 might have been successful. American women used to gather 
 together by themselves on election days and pray all day that 
 God would cause their communities to vote for prohibition, and 
 at that time their prayers were rarely effective. Of recent 
 years such women have learned to do their praying in advance, 
 and to devote themselves during elections, as well as before, 
 to energetic canvassing; and such a tremendous movement has 
 ensued that a prohibition amendment has been added to the 
 federal constitution. 
 
 There was a mother whose little boys acted rudely and 
 annoyingly when a visitor was calling. The mother in apology 
 exclaimed, "You have no idea how much I have prayed for those 
 boys !" The visitor replied, "If you used a stick to them 
 occasionally, your prayers might do some good !" The saying, 
 "God helps them that help themselves" is correct psychology. 
 It would be still more accurate to add "God helps them through 
 their helping themselves." A man may hope, through appeals 
 to the Alter of his prayers, that his efforts may be so guided 
 and stimulated that they will accomplish the desired end. But 
 he cannot expect that God will plough his fields for him, or 
 take care of his hay when rain threatens, or act as his trained 
 
276 PRAYER 
 
 accountant or efficiency expert, and straighten out his business 
 perplexities. The only way that a person's prayers can be 
 answered at all is through processes that begin in his own 
 psycho-physical orgau^m, and through it affect the external 
 world. 
 
 The view of prayer that has thus far been outlined in this 
 chapter is claimed to be scientifically tenable. It contradicts no 
 known law of nature. It is merely a popular statement and 
 application of generally accepted psychological principles. 
 This view of prayer is also morally and religiously more helpful 
 and uplifting than less scientific views. No view of prayer 
 that contradicts well known laws of science, such as are no'.v 
 generally taught in our secondary schools can longer command 
 the confidence of thoughtful people. And many, perhaps tho 
 majority of young people, when they discover that the views 
 of prayer taught them by their pastors and Sunday School 
 teachers are scientifically unsound, are not likely to realize the 
 possibility of a corrected scientific conception of prayer. They 
 are more liable to lose confidence in it altogether. Religious 
 workers cannot induce people who are thoughtful to resort to 
 prayer when it is scientifically justifiable to do so, unless they 
 are honest in pointing out the limitations of prayer. If they 
 vaguely dilate on "the power of prayer" and say that "every- 
 thing" can be accomplished by its agency, if one only has faith 
 enough, their more thoughtful hearers, seeing the falsity of 
 such claims are liable to conclude that all prayer, like some 
 prayer, is mere delusion and superstition. 
 
 Furthermore, from a moral standpoint no one who thinks 
 the matter over carefully could really desire that prayer should 
 be effective in any way for which it is not effective. How 
 morally absurd it would be if every one could cause rain to 
 fall or a drought to come because he prayed, or in any other 
 way could suspend the laws of nature for his own private 
 benefit! What a disorderly and chaotic world we should be 
 living in, were that possible! Far preferable is a world of 
 orderly and uniform natural laws such as that in which we 
 do live. And how petty and selfish it really would be for a 
 person to ask that the laws of the universe should be set aside 
 for his sake. Could we respect a God who would show such 
 partiality to people who prayed for such selfish ends! And 
 it would be immoral as well as ridiculous to expect God to solve 
 the problems of business or home for us, while we looked on at 
 
OBJECTIVITY 277 
 
 Him doing our duties. We should be parasites in such a case, 
 shirking our own responsibilities. But we may ask God to 
 give us wisdom and courage to solve our own difficulties ; we 
 can expect that He will enable us to attain our moral ends 
 through energy made available for us through the Alter of our 
 prayers. 
 
 This theory of prayer makes it possible to gain all the 
 moral and spiritual goods that are of supreme value in the 
 vorld. The getting of much food and fine raiment and great 
 possessions and all the grosser and more material things of 
 life occupy entirely too much of our attention as it is ; far 
 better is it that to the Alter of prayer we should look not so 
 much for these, as for purity of heart and soul, integrity, and 
 single minded devotion to all that is good, true and beautiful. 
 For these spiritual goods, the supreme values of life, are avail- 
 able to every one who prays earnestly for them and honestly 
 endeavors to realize them in his life, 14. 
 
 VII The Objectivity of Prayer 
 
 The problem that next demands our consideration is the 
 question of the objectivity of prayer, (a) Granting all that 
 has been claimed for the efficacy of prayer, may not prayer 
 be a purely subjective affair? May not the Alter really be a 
 creation of the imagination, and does not the efficacy of prayer 
 depend upon the unproved assumption that the Alter actually 
 exists, not merely in the mind of the person who prays, but 
 also as God in the external world? Can prayer in any sense 
 be objective? (b) Once convince any intelligent person of 
 the psychological nature of prayer, must he not refuse to 
 stultify himself by pretending to believe what he does not know 
 to be really true, and hence must he not give up praying 
 entirely? 
 
 Answering (b) first, the argument of this section will 
 endeavor to show that it is quite reasonable to pray before 
 one has been able to make up his mind upon the problem of the 
 objectivity of prayer. In reply to (a), which will then be 
 considered, two different theories, both of which maintain the 
 objectivity of prayer, will be presented for the reader's 
 consideration. 
 
 1. It must be admitted that, in the author's opinion at 
 least, the question of the objective existence of God cannot 
 be settled upon purely psychological grounds. The psycho- 
 
278 PRAYER 
 
 logical facts which we know are inadequate to answer the 
 question. (The grounds for the belief in God are metaphysical, 
 and will be given in Part III.) However, it does not follow 
 that intelligent people who understand something of the 
 psychology of prayer must refuse to pray until philosophers 
 are all agreed upon the nature and existence of God. In 
 primitive times, the author believes that people prayed before 
 the idea of a divine being of any sort had occurred to them. 
 People would continue to pray if that belief were to pass away. 
 The efficacy of prayer is a great fact of human experience. 
 The hypothesis of God is only one way though the author 
 believes it to be philosophically the best way to explain that 
 fact. 
 
 If we recall what was said regarding the evolution of prayer 
 in Chapter VI., it will be remembered that among primitive 
 peoples sacrifice and prayer probably antedate beliefs in spirits, 
 gods and other personal beings of all sorts. People first 
 repeated spells and prayed ; their prayers sometimes were 
 efficacious ; one reason for belief in spirits was that this 
 hypothesis explained the facts of their religious experience. 
 Some Buddhists engage in meditation without believing in a 
 God; such meditation is effective in influencing their lives. 
 Comte advised his followers to pray to mental pictures of 
 absent wives and mothers; the Alter would in such a practice 
 be frankly recognized to be imaginary. Wordsworth got moral 
 and religious strength and reinforcement in recalling to his 
 mind natural scenery which he had enjoyed in the past; this, 
 psychologically speaking, was an experience similar in principle 
 to prayer yet the scenery that served as an alter he could 
 not have thought of as objectively present. 
 
 But, most convincing perhaps is the actual testimony of 
 people brought up with Christian traditions who have con- 
 tinued to pray to God after having ceased to be certain that 
 there is a God, or at any rate that he is present to their minds 
 in prayer, and whose prayers have yet been efficacious. 
 Professor Leuba has collected a number of instances of this 
 tvrie in answer to a questionnaire. One is that of a physician 
 in the prime of life: "I pray privately, morning and evening, 
 in the belief that the practice is effective to live the day in 
 piety and I am sure that it is. ... It has a quieting, 
 pacifying influence on my soul and makes me calm and happy 
 and strong in practical life; it supplies me with patience and 
 
OBJECTIVITY 279 
 
 perseverance. ... I feel also the greatness and power of 
 God in such a way as to admire and praise Him with gratitude 
 and j oy. . . . How does He. help me and does He at all 
 keep me? I do not know : I sometimes believe that He does. It 
 may be that the very act of praying is the way in which I am 
 assisted by the Divine Power when I am speaking to God, it 
 is God who speaks in me." Another is a doctor of philosophy 
 about forty years of age, head of an institution of learning, 
 who prays that he may help others as well as himself, e. g., 
 "Help me to get a grip on T. ; the fellow has got it in him to 
 be somebody; I don't want him to go to the devil." His 
 thoughts are then likely to run off on the problem in mind. 
 This man believes that it is a personal Divinity who gives him 
 strength, but is not interested in Biblical miracles and does not 
 want to put prayer on that basis, but on some sort of scientific 
 basis. 
 
 Another woman, a communicant in a Presbyterian church : 
 "In my purely emotional experiences, I have no distinct realiza- 
 tion of communion with God. This does not, however, prove 
 to me that there is no God, but rather that my development is 
 not sufficiently advanced to realize Him as I wish. Reflectively, 
 I use 'God' as that in reason behind which I cannot go, and I 
 act as if I really believed in Him as a personality in order to 
 satisfy my intellectual and aesthetic needs," 15. A very striking 
 instance has been reported by Miss Amy Eliza Tanner, 16, and 
 others by Dr. Frank Orman Beck, 17. 
 
 From such cases it appears to be clear that it is quite possible 
 for a person to remain uncertain in his own mind whether the 
 reinforcement that he receives in prayer is due merely to an 
 Alter of his imagination or to an objective God, and never- 
 theless to continue the practice of prayer, and to receive benefit 
 from it. The efficacy of prayer is not dependent on the 
 worshipper's understanding of the 'philosophy and psychology 
 of the process. The efficacy of prayer is a matter of immediate 
 experience; the existence and nature of God are difficult 
 philosophical questions upon which it is unnecessary for the 
 worshipper to make up his mind in order to receive the benefits 
 of prayer. 
 
 Nor is there any reasonable ground for accusing people 
 of intellectual dishonesty because they pray, although they 
 cannot explain in just what way they believe prayer to be 
 efficacious. Suppose a building were on fire, and one could 
 
280 PRAYER 
 
 easily throw water upon the flames and extinguish them. 
 Would it be wrong for him to do so because he did not under- 
 stand the chemistry of combustion? When people eat food 
 they ordinarily suppose that the food is digested in their 
 stomachs. Suppose a student of physiology were to come to 
 doubt this, and to suspect that other vital organs possibly 
 play more important parts in digestion than the stomach. 
 Would it be intellectually dishonest for him to continue to eat 
 food until he had definitely decided the question? In any event, 
 food is digested, and he needs it to support life the theoretical 
 question can be solved at his leisure or never at all. So if a 
 person knows he can receive large moral benefits through 
 prayer, and feels the need of these, he should not refrain from 
 praying until he can understand and decide the psychological 
 and philosophical nature of the Alter and know whether it is 
 a subjective creation of his own consciousness or an objectively 
 existing personality. Prayer in either case is efficacious, and 
 that is the main point; the theoretical question cannot affect 
 the actual value and efficacy of prayer. 
 
 2. We are now ready to take up the questions raised under 
 (a) above (page 277). These questions raise an issue which 
 psychology is unable at present to settle absolutely. It is 
 this: Is the process of prayer something that goes on wholly 
 within the psycho-physical organism? Those who would 
 answer the latter question affirmatively must not forget that 
 in efficacious prayer it always seems to the worshipper that 
 energy does enter into him from the external world. The 
 worshipper may be wrong, but such is certainly his impression. 
 The burden of proof clearly lies with those who maintain that 
 he is wrong. 
 
 In any event it is evident that the reinforcement of the 
 conscious Ego of dialogue prayer is effected through the 
 agency of the Alter, and it also is evident that the Alter is 
 the key by which sub-conscious reserves of energy are tapped. 
 But it is not necessary to conclude that this energy has all 
 been produced within the organism. Some of it may enter 
 the organism from outside when the individual prays. William 
 James suggests such an hypothesis rather tentatively in his 
 Varieties of Religious Experience and in his lecture on Human 
 Immortality; there may be somewhere in the universe a great 
 reservoir of sub-conscious energy that is tapped and made 
 available for finite beings in prayer and other religious 
 
OBJECTIVITY 281 
 
 experiences. This reservoir presumably would either be God, 
 or under the control of God. So the energy really would be 
 supplied to the individual by God in answer to his prayers. 
 This suggestion is accepted by Dr. George Barton Cutten, who 
 thinks that in prayer and conversion and other religious 
 experiences "God directly acts upon the subconsciousness," 18. 
 
 This theory is psychologically tenable in the present state 
 of knowledge on the subject. We do not know the precise 
 amount of physical energy stored up in the organism ; nor do 
 we know how much "psychical energy" (whatever that may be) 
 constitutes the resources of the subconscious. This theory 
 will in the remainder of this book be referred to as the hypothesis 
 of an external God, i. e., a God external to the mind and body 
 of the individual person, who acts upon the person through his 
 subconsciousness. This theory appears to be an application 
 of "theism" ; but the latter term is to-day used in so many 
 different senses that it has become highly ambiguous. The 
 expression "theory of an external God" is much less misleading, 
 if it be remembered that by "external" is meant external to the 
 minds and bodies of men. Such a God is conceived of as pres- 
 ent and operative in the universe (as opposed to Deism). The 
 chief argument in favor of the hypothesis of an external God 
 as an explanation of prayer is that it agrees with the worship- 
 per's impression that energy comes to him from without. 
 
 The theory, however, is open to a serious scientific objection. 
 It introduces the hypothesis of God into the science of psychol- 
 ogy, to explain psychological facts. Now the hypothesis of 
 God is no longer employed in any of the more mature natural 
 sciences, though it once had its place in them all. In no 
 authoritative text book in astronomy, physics, chemistry, 
 geology or biology does any one to-day expect to find any 
 phenomenon explained by Divine action such an explanation 
 would be regarded as utterly unscientific. In psychology itself 
 no one would dream of introducing the conception of God to 
 explain any ordinary mental processes ; should we therefore 
 continue to introduce it for the explanation of religious phen- 
 omena? To be sure, in our present ignorance it is possible that 
 "God acts directly on the sub-consciousness" but to introduce 
 such an hypothesis into the psychology of religion it may be 
 urged, is both unnecessary, and contrary to the scientific spirit. 
 While the reader may decide to accept this hypothesis, and 
 while there are philosophical considerations that fr.ror it, as 
 
282 PRAYER 
 
 will appear in later chapters, he should remember that there 
 is this grave difficulty in so doing. 
 
 If, on the contrary, we decide that in prayer the influx from 
 the subconsciousness into consciousness involves nothing either 
 physical or mental except the resources of the organism, what 
 are the consequences? The Atheist of course may claim that 
 such a conclusion is in entire agreement with his opinion, that 
 no God exists in the universe at all. The Agnostic may assert 
 that this conclusion, indicating that the psychology of prayer 
 does not involve the assumption of an external God, favors 
 his contention that the question whether God exists cannot 
 be known. But if we make this decision are we necessarily com- 
 mitted either to atheism, or to agnosticism? 
 
 It seems to the author that another possibility remains. 
 Prayer may, -from a scientific standpoint, be wholly due to 
 organic processes, mental and neural, and yet from a religious 
 and philosophical standpoint it may involve the action of God. 
 Though astronomers do not mention God in their lectures or 
 writings on astronomy, many of them are none the less believers 
 in God, and the same is true of other natural scientists. 
 Astronomers may say that from the standpoint of their science 
 gravitation and not Divine action is the explanation of the 
 reason why planets move in their orbits. Biologists may say 
 that natural selection and not immediate creation is the ex- 
 planation of the origin of species. Yet neither gravitation nor 
 natural selection nor any other scientific law states the ultimate 
 reason for any event; such laws merely state how events go 
 on, not why they go on in that way. Gravitation and natural 
 selection are mere generalizations of what has been observed 
 to happen; they are not entities. It would be scientifically as 
 well as logically absurd to say that "gravitation makes things 
 fall," "natural selection makes species arise;" one might as 
 well say like the physician in Moliere's play that opium puts 
 people to sleep on account of its "dormative properties." It 
 is quite possible for the natural scientist who is a believer in 
 God to say that gravitation is the way that God acts in keep- 
 ing particles of matter in their places, that natural selection 
 is the way God acts in bringing new species into existence; 
 that every verified natural law is a statement of how God thinks 
 and acts and that every important scientific hypothesis is a 
 theory about the manner in which God thinks and acts. The 
 entire physical universe is the garment of Deity, and its pro- 
 
OBJECTIVITY 283 
 
 cesses are the physical counterparts of expressions of the 
 Divine thoughts. This supposition, to be sure, is not science, 
 and should have no place in scientific books, not because it may 
 not be true, but because it has no bearing upon scientific 
 problems. This is the hypothesis of an immanent God, i. e. of 
 a God present in everything in Nature, so that all natural 
 processes are His actions. One species of this view is called 
 "pantheism"; but this term, like "theism" has been used in so 
 many contradictory senses that it seems best to avoid it alto- 
 gether. From this hypothesis of an immament God it would fol- 
 low that prayer, too, involves Divine action when viewed from 
 a philosophical or a religious standpoint, and that it is so 
 to be regarded from the standpoint of the philosophy of reli- 
 gion, but that the hypothesis of God has no proper place in 
 the psychology of religion any more than in any other science. 
 On this theory, to say that prayer is wholly an affair of the 
 organism, interpreted scientifically, is not to deny that it is 
 the action of God, but to affirm it. 
 
 The conception of an immanent God will become clearer to 
 the reader after the discussion of God in the earlier chapters of 
 Part III. Let us conclude the present chapter with a more con- 
 crete discussion of the theory of an immanent God in its appli- 
 cation to prayer. 
 
 Suppose a person prays, who believes in the immanent theory 
 of God just mentioned, and who believes that, from the stand- 
 point of psychology prayer is a process that goes on wholly 
 within his own organism. For such a person is prayer objec- 
 tive? The author thinks that we may say, Yes. Such a person 
 is convinced that God exists in the universe. The philosophical 
 arguments for the existence of God appear stronger to him 
 than those against it. In prayer, an Alter is present in his 
 consciousness that symbolizes God for him as clearly and defin- 
 itely as is possible for a person of his intelligence and experi- 
 ence. Such an Alter, he believes, is not a mere fiction of his 
 imagination, but a symbol of a Being that actually exists. In 
 prayer and meditation he is thinking of a real personality. 
 Suppose a son in meditation were to think of an absent mother 
 and carry on an imaginary conversation with her, and that 
 to do this helped him to solve some difficulty. He would be 
 thinking, not of an imaginary person, but of a real person, 
 his mother. And the influence upon him, we might say, in a 
 sense, really is exerted by his mother; the fact that the idea 
 
284 PRAYER 
 
 of his mother can influence him at such a time is a consequence 
 of the actual relations that he has had with her in the past. 
 So we may say that the mother does exist in the mind of her 
 son when he thinks of her in this way. And, on the immanent 
 theory of prayer, more can be said for its objective validity 
 even than this. For there is another sense, of course, in which 
 the mother is not actually present before her son when he thinks 
 of her; her presence before him is a creation of his mind. In 
 prayer, however, if we accept the immanent theory of God, we 
 should say that God actually is present in the Alter. For 
 God, on this view is everywhere, and in all things. 
 
 Nor does this mean that God is present to the person who 
 prays merely in the sense that He is equally present in every- 
 thing whatever, in a stone or a clod, in a worm or a toad. 
 While God is in all things, and all things are expressions of 
 Him, all things are not equally expressions of Him. The 
 lowliest organism is a better expression of Him than anything 
 inorganic ; animals are more adequate expressions than plants ; 
 man, who can reason, is a fuller expression than any other 
 animal; and the good man is a fuller expression than the bad 
 man. The loftiest Alter that has yet been conceived in prayer 
 is the fullest expression of God that has yet become compre- 
 hensible to the mind of man on the earth. If, therefore, man 
 would try to find God he must not look without, though God in 
 some sense is everywhere but he must look within, for in the 
 Alter of his purest and sincerest prayers is God most fully 
 revealed to him. So, in a profound sense, on this theory of an 
 immanent God, the Alter of prayer is the immanent God of the 
 universe of whom a man has become self-conscious in his own 
 personal experience. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 ANNA LOUISE STRONG, The Psychology of Prayer. 
 
 CHARLES HORTON COOLEY, Human Nature and the Social Order, Chapters 
 III-VI, X. 
 
 *GEORGE BARTON CUTTEN, Psychological Phenomena of Christianity, 
 Chapters XV, XVI, XXVIII. 
 
 *GEORGE ALBERT COE, The Spiritual Life, Chapter IV. The Religion of 
 a Mature Mind, Chapter XI. The Psychology of Religion, Chapter XVIII. 
 *H. E. FOSDICK, The Meaning of Prayer. 
 
 JAMES BISSETT PRATT, The Religious Consciousness t Chapter XV, and 
 pp. 217-223. 
 
 *SAMUEL McCoMB, Prayer What it Is and What it Does. 
 *S. W. RANSOM, "Studies in the Psychology of Prayer," American Journal 
 of Religious Psychology and Education, Vol. I (1904), pp. 129-142. 
 *FRANK ORMAN BECK, (Same Journal, Vol. II, pp. 116, ff.). 
 
OBJECTIVITY 285 
 
 JAMES H. LECBA, "The Contents of the Religious Consciousness," The 
 Monist, Vol. XI, pp. 536-573. 
 
 AMY ELIZA TANNER, in Psychological Bulletin, 1907, pp. 33, ff. 
 *WILLIAM JAMES, "The Energies of Men" in Memories and Studies. 
 
 WILLIAM JAMES, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 463-477; 
 523, f. 
 
 ELLWOOD WORCESTER, et. al. Religion and Medicine. (The Emmanuel 
 Movement.) 
 
 * ANONYMOUS, "What Prayer Has Done for Me," American Magazine, 
 Oct., 1919, pp. 53, ff. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 MYSTICISM 
 
 I Introduc tory 
 
 WE have seen that the endeavor of religion is always to con- 
 serve values through an Agency, and that in Christianity and 
 Judaism this Agency is believed to be personal, is God. In 
 prayer an imaginative social process is carried on with God, 
 who, it is believed, hears, and in accordance with His wisdom, 
 answers human petitions. Now, suppose that a person, when 
 he prays, could somehow become conscious of the presence of 
 God, just as he is aware of the presence of another human 
 being when he converses with him! How comforting and 
 sustaining would such assurance be! How much more effec- 
 tively would religion conserve moral values for him! If God, 
 who is purely spiritual, is to be perceived in some manner, it 
 obviously cannot be through the senses ; for it is impossible to 
 see His face and to hear His voice with human eyes and ears ; 
 He must be perceived inwardly. Many have believed this inward 
 perception to be possible; in fact, that they have experienced 
 it. 
 
 Consider what it is like to engage in conversation with a very 
 intimate friend, with whom there is perfect understanding. It 
 is often possible for close friends to commune in silent intimacy, 
 not needing to talk for intervals, so perfect is their mutual 
 comprehension. At such times, friends certainly give little 
 thought of each other's physical appearance, or the sounds of 
 their voices. To be sure, these are all of a friend which can 
 be seen and heard with the eyes and ears of sense. What a 
 person is most aware of, as constituting his friend, however, 
 is his personality his soul, if you please that of him which 
 is inwardly perceived. So the problem for the mystical wor- 
 shipper is how he can become inwardly aware of a Person who 
 does not have a physical body, but who, he believes, exists as 
 truly and has even more definite Individuality than any human 
 being, and is more deeply and truly one's Friend nay, who 
 
 286 
 
MILDER FORMS 287 
 
 loves and understands infinitely more than any fellow human 
 being does or can. 
 
 We may accordingly define Religious Mysticism in general 
 as the endeavor to secure consciousness of the 'presence of the 
 Agency through Which (or through Whom) the conservation 
 of socially recognized values is sought. For Christianity and 
 Judaism, religions for which the Agency is God, mysticism is 
 accordingly the cultivation of the consciousness of the presence 
 of God. 
 
 II Milder Forms of Mysticism 
 
 In its milder form, religious mysticism is a fairly common 
 experience to-day, as Professor Pratt has taught us, 1. It is 
 a great mistake to make too much of a mystery of mysticism, 
 or to limit it to the startling forms which it sometimes has 
 assumed in the lives of the saints. Every reader knows good 
 and saintly people including very likely his own mother and 
 father who have experienced religious mysticism. In every 
 church and synagogue there are at least a few sincerely 
 religious people who could testify, if modesty did not forbid, 
 that they feel God present at their sides, even at times when 
 they are not consciously engaged in religious worship, and that 
 He constantly guides and sustains them. In their own lives 
 they have known the experiences described in the twenty-third 
 and many other of the Psalms, 2. 
 
 Miss Underhill (3) has set forth with careful descriptive 
 analysis, five stages of the "mystic way," as experienced by 
 the great saints and mystics of the various religions of the 
 world. To some extent, as the author believes, it can be main- 
 tained that every sincerely religious person treads this "mystic 
 way." The first step, for the ordinary religious person, is the 
 "awakening" of the religious life, which, as we have seen, 
 usually is experienced in adolescence. The significance of 
 religion then first comes home to a person, and he gains an 
 enlargement of his self through continuous growth, spon- 
 taneous awakening or conversion. The Alter of prayer becomes 
 a deeper and more meaningful reality to him. He has times 
 of spiritual "illumination" or enhancement, when his religious 
 beliefs are real and vivid, when he feels uplifted, when it is easy 
 to do right, and he has a sense of close communion with the 
 Alter. But on other occasions he sometimes has periods of 
 depression, when he feels painfully conscious of his own short- 
 
288 MYSTICISM 
 
 comings and imperfections, and he does not feel the presence 
 of the Alter. Old habits and points of view in conflict with 
 the Alter have driven the latter temporarily out of the focus 
 of conscious attention. This may be the consequence of a 
 moral lapse, or it may merely be the result of nervous fatigue 
 and the sheer impossibility of keeping consciously upon an 
 exalted plane to which the person's mind and brain have not 
 yet become habituated. He realizes that if he is to remain 
 true to the Alter, and to retain a sense of His continued pres- 
 ence and favor, there must be removed from his mind, character, 
 and life everything that is in any way in conflict with the Alter. 
 To the modern Protestant layman this means, simply, that he 
 must sincerely repent of his sins, reform his manner of living, 
 and cultivate private and public religious worship. To Chris- 
 tians with different traditions, it has sometimes meant "purga- 
 tion," to be effected by (1) rigorous "detachment" from 
 every worldly tie that might in any way conflict with whole- 
 hearted devotion to God in the manner taught by the Church 
 (including for monks and nuns poverty, celibacy, and 
 obedience), and (2) "mortification" the doing of unpleasant 
 things in order to discipline oneself to absolute submission to 
 God. 
 
 When once those obstacles have been removed that stood in 
 the way of whole-hearted devotion to the Alter, and concentra- 
 tion of attention upon Him, the sense of the Divine presence 
 becomes more frequent, and requires less effort. Physiologically 
 this means that whatever brain paths furnish the neural side 
 of religious worship have become more firmly fixed, and that 
 conflicting pathways have been suppressed, and rendered 
 impervious to neural stimulation. Such attainment, of course, 
 does not come all at once ; perhaps it is never entirely complete 
 during any human lifetime. But, by middle age, a person's 
 habits and points of view are relatively set. The sincerely 
 religious person, by the time he is forty, has usually formed 
 his conceptions of God as they are likely to remain, and has 
 adjusted his activities in accordance with them. Such an one, 
 if a layman of liberal views to-day, may take a mild form of 
 "union" with God for granted ; his conscience is fairly clear ; 
 he feels assured that God is with him, and watches over him, and 
 that He helps and guides him in knowing and doing what is 
 right, and in recognizing and overcoming temptations. At 
 times his insight into spiritual matters is more than ordinarily 
 
THE GREAT MYSTICS 289 
 
 keen, and he feels particularly blest ; at other times he is rather 
 depressed and low spirited. But the latter occasions do not 
 unduly discourage him; for such an one it would be exaggera- 
 tion to describe them as "the dark night of the soul." For he 
 knows that they are temporary, and will presently pass away 
 if he is faithful to God and seeks his help. The vividness with 
 which the presence of God is felt, the intensity of joy which 
 it affords and of sorrow which its absence brings, vary largely 
 with individual temperaments. Level headed phlegmatic people 
 do not experience extreme exaltation and deep despair ; avoiding 
 the heights and the depths, they often are more rational and 
 practical religious workers but they sometimes are deficient in 
 enthusiasm and insight. 
 
 So much for religious mysticism of the milder forms, with 
 which the majority of the readers of this book are acquainted, 
 either as the result of personal experience or the observation 
 of their religiously minded friends. But what of the more 
 remarkable experiences of the "great mystics" among whose 
 number must be reckoned the Hebrew prophets and the Christian 
 saints, as well as some of the great Protestant reformers? 
 
 Ill The Great Mystics 
 
 The great prophets and saints of Christianity and Judaism 
 have all possessed unusually profound grasp of moral and 
 religious principles. This is not to say that they have all 
 been highly educated persons, by any means. But they have 
 known their Bibles thoroughly, and have thought long and 
 earnestly upon religious subjects. For them the Alter is 
 rich in content; God is a term full of meaning. Further, 
 through prayer they have persistently endeavored to make the 
 presence of God real and vivid ; it has been their desire, like 
 Enoch, to "walk with God;" like Moses and Jeremiah to 
 converse intimately with Him ; like Amos and Isaiah under the 
 impulsion of His Spirit to bring His messages to others ; like 
 Ezekiel and Daniel to see something of His glory. 
 
 Writers on mysticism sometimes say that St. Paul is the 
 most striking mystical figure in the New Testament. His 
 conversion to Christianity was apparently abrupt, coming as 
 a sudden uprush from the subconsciousness of impressions made 
 upon him by the piety and courage of St. Stephen and the others 
 whom he had persecuted. He could no longer resist these 
 goads upon his conscience, and for several days he was dazed 
 
290 MYSTICISM; 
 
 with visual and auditory automatisms. This "awakening" was 
 followed by a "retreat" in the desert country of Arabia (4) 
 where he sought in quiet to readjust himself to the new faith. 
 Three years later he visited Jerusalem, when, as Miss Underhill 
 suggests, he perhaps experienced his first ecstacy while praying 
 in the Temple, when he "was caught up into the third heaven," 
 "heard unspeakable words," and foresaw his future vocation to 
 the Gentiles, 5. She thinks that he thereafter spent ten or 
 twelve years in humble Christian work, in submission to his 
 ecclesiastical superiors. With ripened powers, he ultimately 
 became prepared for more exalted service. The church at 
 Antioch accordingly sent him with Barnabas out upon 
 missionary service, 6. The responsibility and opportunity then 
 afforded him brought into expression the powers that had been 
 developing during the years of his apprenticeship. He gained 
 "illumination" i. e., was "filled with the Holy Ghost," and 
 constantly experienced "visions and revelations of the Lord," 
 excelling all others in gifts of suggestion and healing, 7, and 
 "speaking with tongues," 8. He tells the Galatians that he 
 bore branded on his body "the marks of Jesus," 9. 
 
 More important than visions, ecstacies, prophesying, and 
 speaking with tongues, in his own judgment as well as ours, 
 were his great faith and his love for God and men, 10. God and 
 Christ were very close to him. "Christ lives in me." God 
 hath "shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge 
 of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." "The Spirit 
 himself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children 
 of God." "For me to live is Christ," 11. Professor Rufus M. 
 Jones says: "Paul's 'Gospel' from beginning to end, whether 
 its sacred word is 'love' or 'faith' presupposes a human person 
 partaking of the Divine Life, which freely gives itself, and it 
 points away to a consummation in which the Spirit and law 
 of this Divine Life become the Spirit and Law of 'a new 
 creature' a man in whom Christ is relived. His 'new man' 
 is a supernatural inward creation wrought by the Spirit who 
 is identical with Christ 'the Lord is the Spirit' who enters 
 into the man and becomes in him power, and life, and spiritual- 
 izing energy," 12. 
 
 The mystical religious experiences of St. Paul were shared 
 with others, and became the common property of the saints 
 of the church. So the profound mystical sacramentalism and 
 philosophy of the Gospel and Epistles of John were rendered 
 
THE GREAT MYSTICS 
 
 possible, and their author (or authors) could portray Jesus 
 in terms of the closest intimacy with God, on the one hand, 
 and with his followers on the other, 13. "I am in my Father, 
 and ye in Me, and I in you." "I am the Bread of Life." "I 
 am the Door." "I am the true vine, and my Father is the 
 husbandman." "I am the vine and ye are the branches." 
 "Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, 
 ye have no life in yourselves. He that eateth my flesh and 
 drinketh my blood hath eternal life," 14*. Jesus is the eternal 
 Logos manifested in the flesh, and is "the life of men," God 
 incarnate and operative in a human being, and through him, in 
 other human beings. These writings could have come only from 
 one who has personally known the mystical experiences of which 
 he wrote. "We speak that we do know, and testify what we 
 have seen." "This is the disciple that beareth witness of these 
 things, and wrote these things, and we know that his witness 
 is true," 15. 
 
 As Dr. Loisy says, the Fourth Gospel "is above all a 
 personal work, which bears from one end to the other the mark 
 of the powerful genius who conceived it ... all the materials 
 which the author has used have passed through the crucible of 
 his powerful intellect and his mystical soul; and they have 
 come forth from it metamorphosed, intimately penetrated and 
 fused together, by the idea of the eternal Christ, the Divine 
 source of light and life," 16. 
 
 In almost every age since New Testament times there have 
 been religious geniuses who, more than ordinary men, have 
 been able to grasp the significance of the Christian faith, to 
 feel it inwardly, and to project it into the Alter of their prayers, 
 with Whom they have come into terms of the closest and most 
 loving intimacy. The finest expression of mysticism in the 
 ancient Catholic Church is the Confessions of Saint Augustine 
 (T4.30). "Thou awakest us to delight in Thy praise," 17. 
 "And being thence admonished to return to myself, I entered 
 even into my inward self. Thou being my Guide; and able I 
 was, for Thou wert become my Helper. And I entered and 
 beheld with the eye of my soul . . the Light Unchange- 
 able. . . He that knows the Truth, knows what that Light 
 is, and he that knows It, knows eternity. Love knoweth it. 
 O Truth who art Eternity! and Love who art Truth! and 
 Eternity who art Love! Thou art my God, to Thee do I sigh 
 night and day," 18. 
 
292 MYSTICISM 
 
 Early in the fifteenth century was written the Imitation of 
 Christ, supposedly by Thomas a Kempis, a book which, as 
 George Eliot said, "works miracles to this day, turning bitter 
 waters into sweetness. And so it remains to all time a lasting 
 record of human needs and human consolations." The words 
 of this book are simple and penetrating. " 'He that followeth 
 me, walketh not in darkness, 5 said the Lord. . . Let there- 
 fore our chiefest endeavor be, to meditate on the life of Jesus 
 Christ." "Seek a convenient time to retire into thyself, and 
 meditate often upon God's loving kindness. Shut thy door 
 upon thee, and call unto thee Jesus, thy Beloved. Stay with 
 Him in thy closet; for thou shalt not find so great peace 
 anywhere else." "When Jesus is present, all is well, and nothing 
 seems difficult ; but when Jesus is absent, everything is hard. 
 ... It is a matter of great skill to know how to hold 
 converse with Jesus ; and to know how to keep Jesus a point 
 of great wisdom. Be thou humble and peaceable, and Jesus will 
 be with thee. Be devout and quiet, and Jesus will stay with 
 thee. . . . Love all for Jesus, but Jesus for Himself," 20. 
 
 The literature of medieval and modern Christian mysticism 
 is extensive. Attention may be called to the Revelations of 
 Divine Love of Mother Julian of Norwich (about 1373) in 
 the modern version of which some of the medieval quaintness 
 of language is charmingly preserved, as well as to the History 
 and Life of the Reverend John Tauler and his Sermons 
 (about 1340). These are not too mystical to be understood 
 by anyone who is willing to take them up sympathetically. 
 Saint Teresa and St. John of the Cross are among the most 
 penetrating of the great modern mystics. The mystical 
 passages in The Way of Perfection and The History of ih& 
 Foundations of the former give much of her spirit and are 
 less difficult (and, of course, less profound) than her Life and 
 Interior Castle. Among Protestant mystical books John 
 Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress and George Fox's Journal are 
 perhaps best known to English readers, and most worth while. 
 
 IV Spiritual Exercises 
 
 The most remarkable book of directions for the cultivation 
 of inner religious experience is the Spiritual Exercises of Saint 
 Ignatius Loyola (fl556), the founder of the Jesuit order. 
 Written out of his own experience for the help of those who 
 might be seeking under Divine guidance to know their voca- 
 
SPIRITUAL EXERCISES 
 
 tlon in life, it probably furnishes the most effective means 
 by which any one of similar religious beliefs might attain a 
 keen inward sense and appreciation of God and zeal to serve 
 Him. The exercises are to be carried out in solitude in pur- 
 suance of directions given by an experienced Jesuit father, 
 whose duty it is to modify them to meet individual tempera- 
 ments and needs. The director is in no way to influence the 
 exercitant who will select his vocation for himself, solely in 
 accordance with the Divine guidance which he believes that he 
 receives. 
 
 The first exercise consists of (1) a preparatory prayer, in 
 which God's grace is sought that the exercise may be faithfully 
 performed in His service; (2) an attempt to imagine visually 
 Christ or the Virgin in some definite place and time in their 
 lives; (3) to make a petition to God, appropriate to the event 
 visualized (such as that one may be joyful if the person has 
 imagined the Resurrection, that he may feel shame and con- 
 fusion for his sins if he has imagined the Passion, etc.) ; (4) to 
 exercise the memory, reason, and will over the fall of the angels, 
 and contrast his own repeated sins with their single sin; (5) 
 similarly to exercise memory, reason and will upon the sins of 
 Adam and Eve; (6) similarly to ponder over how for one single 
 sin better men have been lost forever; (7) to imagine Christ 
 upon the Cross and to make to Him a colloquy, addressing Him 
 "just as one friend speaks to another, or a servant to his 
 master," and reviewing how "He has come to make Himself 
 man . . and so to die for my sins," and "looking at myself" 
 "to consider what I have done for Christ, what I am doing for 
 Christ, what I ought to do for Christ, and so seeing Him in 
 such condition fastened on the Cross, to think over what shall 
 occur." 
 
 It is easy to see that such exercises faithfully gone through 
 in privacy for four weeks, reviewing the life, passion, death 
 and resurrection of Christ, and the main points in Christian 
 teaching connected with them, making these as vivid as pos- 
 sible in imagination, and emotion, must effect a profound 
 impression upon a person's mind and character for the rest of 
 his life. His religious beliefs and convictions would become 
 tremendously real ; they would be woven into the tissues of his 
 memories and aspirations ; they would become the dominating 
 force in his personality. The Alteri of his devotions (God; 
 Christ; the Blessed Virgin) would become intensely vivid in 
 
294. MYSTICISM 
 
 his imagination; it would not be difficult to hold intimate 
 colloquies with them as if they were persons bodily present. 
 One can see why the Jesuits were able to reform the Catholic 
 portion of Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, 
 and why as intrepid missionaries they visited the hitherto 
 inaccessible parts of the earth, overcoming through vital faith 
 and courage what to ordinary men would have been insuperable 
 obstacles. 
 
 As a rule, Christian mystics have not followed such precise 
 directions as those given by Saint Ignatius Loyola, but they 
 have all had more or less definite modes of procedure, by which 
 they have endeavored to concentrate their attention upon God 
 and to make His presence vivid and real. Methods have 
 naturally varied with the customs and ideals of different 
 centuries. 
 
 Critics of mysticism have claimed that it employs methods 
 of auto-suggestion and self-hypnotism. Continuous concen- 
 tration of the attention upon a cross or crucifix, or even the 
 imagined figure of God, Christ, or a saint, brings on trance 
 states, comparable to crystal gazing, it is alleged. Professor 
 Coe has claimed that he has gained an understanding of. the 
 spiritual states of the great mystics by inducing a senii- 
 hypnotic trance as a result of steadily fixing his eyes and 
 attention upon a moderately bright object, 21. But, although 
 methods in some respects similar to suggestion and hypnotism 
 have often been used by mystics, one outstanding feature of 
 mysticism must not be overlooked. The Christian mystics have 
 always spent much time upon their Bibles and other devotional 
 literature. Much religious lore and aspiration are consciously 
 and subconsciously retained, and for them constitute the Alter. 
 And just as in ordinary prayer but on a more extensive scale, 
 merits and graces attributed to the Alter, are communicable 
 to the ego. The Imitation of Christ and the Pilgrim's Progress 
 are well named. While travelling on the mystic way the pilgrim 
 makes his progress toward the realization of Heaven in his 
 soul, and this journey is an imitation so far as the weakness 
 of human nature permits, of the Christ of his prayers and 
 colloquies. 
 
 Thus far emphasis has been placed, in the account of the 
 great mystics as well as the milder mysticism of ordinary devout 
 people, upon the spiritual side the sense of intimate com- 
 munion with God. This is the aim of mysticism, always. But 
 
ECSTACY 295 
 
 what of the more startling phenomena in the experiences of 
 many of the great mystics? This leads us to the subject of 
 Ecstasy. 
 
 V Ecstasy 
 
 In the lives of the great mystics, after the process of "purga- 
 tion" began to near completion, and ideas and impulses in 
 conflict with the Alter had become largely expelled or subju- 
 gated, there came times when the mystic found his mind 
 spontaneously moving upon another plane. Such states might 
 be immediately preceded by voluntary concentration of the 
 mind upon a fixed object or idea of religious devotion, and so 
 be self-induced, or they might come on without effort or 
 expectation. The general characteristics of the ecstatic state, 
 are, as Dr. Cutten says, "concentration of attention on one 
 dominant idea or object, loss of normal self-control, insensi- 
 bility to external impressions, and intense emotional excite- 
 ment," 22. Ecstacy is usually highly joyful; and there is 
 subsequent memory of the events or visions experienced, at least 
 in a general way. The state passes, after a while, leaving the 
 mystic somewhat fatigued ; but with a memory that is often 
 precious, and it may have a lasting effect in raising the level 
 of his character. 
 
 Ecstasy may be a condition of intense inward mental activity 
 accompanied by outward calm, in which the mystic is in intimate 
 or even rapturous communion with God, Christ, the Blessed 
 Virgin or a Saint. Or the ecstasy may be more violent in its 
 manifestations, and the person may sing, shout, or dance. 
 
 During ecstasy there is less than ordinary sensibility 
 to external impressions, especially in the more extreme 
 trance like forms. Respiration and circulation may be partly 
 checked. Vision and hearing may be somewhat impeded. The 
 ordinary sensations of pressure and equilibrium may be lost, 
 so that the ecstatic may feel that his body has been lifted from 
 the ground and that he is walking in the air ; or that he is out 
 of the body altogether. There may be little or no sensibility 
 to pain. This last explains the apparent indifference of many 
 of the martyrs who sometimes even manifested joy when 
 tortured. "Stephen's face shone like that of an angel while 
 he received the stones from the enraged multitude; Rogers, a 
 fellow-worker with Tyndale, died bathing his hands in the 
 flame as though it were cold water; and Lawrence, a deacon 
 
296 MYSTICISM 
 
 of Rome, was laid upon a grid iron ; with a smile, he said, 'Turn 
 me, I am roasted on one side,' and died without a cry or moan 
 of pain, as calmly as if lying on a bed of down," 23. 
 
 Visions are often experienced during ecstasy. Imagined 
 events are seen, intuitively, with the eyes of the mind, as if they 
 were actually witnessed. Professor Pratt thinks that, while 
 the illusion in such cases may be complete and constitute a 
 genuine hallucination, it is more frequently the case that ecstatic 
 visions are merely "pseudo-hallucinations" in which the subject 
 even at the time knows that they are subjective. Sometimes, 
 indeed, visions are no more than unusually vivid memories of 
 former experiences, 24. In view of the spiritual exercises 
 engaged in by the mystics, in which they endeavor to bring 
 images of persons and events as vividly as possible before the 
 imagination, it can readily be understood that they may occa- 
 sionally so well succeed in making these images vivid that they 
 partially or even wholly mistake these products of their con- 
 scious and subconscious imagination for objective events. 
 
 Saint Julian of Norwich had visions of Christ both while 
 he was scourged and while he was dying. More attractive to 
 the modern reader, though, is the vision in which she says that 
 God "brought our blessed Lady to my understanding. I saw 
 her ghostly, in bodily likeness ; a simple maid and a meek, young 
 of age and little waxen above a child, in the stature that she 
 was when she conceived. Also God shewed in part the wisdom 
 and truth of her soul ; wherein I understood the reverent behold- 
 ing in which she beheld her God and Maker, marvelling with 
 great reverence that He would be born of her that was a simple 
 creature of His making. And this wisdom and truth ; a knowing 
 the greatness of her Maker and the littleness of herself that 
 was made, caused her to say full meekly to Gabriel: Lo me, 
 God's hand maid! In this sight I understood soothly that she 
 is more than all that God made beneath her in worthiness and 
 grace; for above her is nothing that is made but the blessed 
 Manhood of Christ, as to my sight," 25. 
 
 Visions are very common in the literature of nearly all 
 religions. In this simple vision of Saint Julian we can 
 discover the fundamental principles underlying them all. 
 Images that have developed in the subconsciousness are suddenly 
 flashed into the focus of conscious attention. Saint Julian had 
 probably often thought of the little hand maiden of the Lord 
 
ECSTACY 297 
 
 as she must have appeared at the time of the Annunciation; 
 she now saw her as before she had imagined her. i 
 
 Visions may be experienced by a group of persons at the 
 same time, especially if they are in an excited mental condition, 
 bordering upon ecstasy. Many soldiers during a battle are in 
 such a state. "The ancients supposed that they saw their 
 deities, Castor and Pollux, fighting in the van for their encour- 
 agement ; the heathen Scandinavians beheld the Choosers of the 
 Slain, and Christians were no less easily led to recognize the 
 warlike St. George and St. James in the front of the strife, 
 showing the way to conquest. It will be remembered that St. 
 George was seen on the walls of Jerusalem by the army of the 
 Crusaders, who did not doubt the reality of the suggested 
 vision," 26. Preceding the fall of Constantinople in 1453, many 
 had visions of the Virgin Mary appearing upon the walls of 
 the city, and were led to hope that she would not allow it to 
 be captured by the Turks. How such collective visions occurred 
 is rendered clearer by a well authenticated case in France in 
 quite recent times. In 1889 in a country district, Marie 
 Magoutier, eleven years of age and of a nervous and imagina- 
 tive temperament, saw a figure of the Virgin Mary in a hole 
 in a wall in a country place. She told her playmates of her 
 experience, and soon the news spread through the countryside 
 like wild fire. Many visited the spot, more than fifteen hundred 
 on August 11, 1889. Of these, a considerable number, after 
 prayer and concentrated effort, were vouchsafed the blessing 
 of seeing the Blessed Virgin; and some of them experienced 
 ecstacy, 27. In the light of this incident, it can be readily 
 understood how a highly imaginative person may see a vision, 
 and pass on the contagion to others. The French clergy did 
 not encourage the movement just mentioned, and it soon 
 subsided. Similarly, the leaders of Christian Science did not 
 encourage the expectation that visions of Mrs. Eddy would 
 be experienced after her death, 28 ; had they followed an oppo- 
 site policy, it is quite conceivable that such visions might have 
 become fairly common, and that the resurrection of Mrs. Eddy 
 might in time have become an established tradition of their 
 church. 
 
 In ecstatic states doctrines and other abstract principles, 
 accepted but not well comprehended by the mystic, have often 
 appeared clear to him by a kind of inward feeling and under- 
 standing. Doctrines of the Trinity, the Incarnation, and the 
 
298 ECSTACY 
 
 like, are instances. Faith in these doctrines is often greatly 
 strengthened as a result, although the mystic, after his 
 experience, can advance no new arguments. But he has "seen" 
 and he has "felt." 
 
 Among other ecstatic phenomena may be mentioned 
 glossolalia and stigmatisation. The former, in which one 
 ecstatic in a revival bursts forth into a meaningless broth of 
 syllables, which are assumed to be words of a foreign language, 
 and are interpreted by another member of the congregation, 
 under the guidance of the Spirit, is still occasionally found in 
 revivals in the United States, 29. The latter consists in the 
 manifestation, presumed to be a work of divine grace, upon the 
 body of the ecstatic of wounds corresponding to those of 
 Christ. The case of St. Francis of Assissi (f!226) is the 
 first on record, if we decide that the words of St. Paul were 
 not meant literally. St. Catherine of Siena and others received 
 this favor subsequent to St. Francis. There have been well 
 authenticated cases in recent times, 30. Both of these 
 phenomena are attributed by modern psychologists to sugges- 
 tion and the influence of the subconscious. 
 
 VI Inspiration 
 
 We speak of a poet or artist as "inspired." By this we 
 mean that the man has been able to catch the significance of 
 what others have thought or felt dimly and confusedly, and to 
 give it an expression which carries conviction and affords 
 satisfaction. The genius is the interpreter of his age. 
 
 It is, indeed, frequently the case that an artist's creative 
 work is in part done subconsciously. He feels impelled to write 
 or to paint or to compose by some influence that he does not 
 recognize as his own personality. Yet all that he produces 
 is the fruit of his previous studies and efforts, of what he knows 
 and the technique he has acquired. The public cares not at all 
 whether what he produces has come to his mind in an ecstatic 
 frenzy or as the outcome of calm deliberation. It is judged 
 good or bad in either event, according to its merit, measured 
 by the canons and taste of the time, whether or not it gives 
 an expression to the values which the age seeks and appreciates. 
 
 Professor Ames has pointed out that the inspiration of the 
 ancient Hebrew prophets was similar in principle, 31. Each of 
 them was in touch with the currents of social and political life 
 of their times; they were in contact with the masses of the 
 
INSPIRATION 299 
 
 people, they knew what was going on at court, and they knew 
 the dangers that threatened their country from the great 
 empires that surrounded them. They grieved at the prevailing 
 political and social injustices and moral corruption. They 
 knew, too, the traditional customs and ideals of the religion 
 of Yahweh. Moreover, the great writing prophets, like modern 
 schools of art, possessed a literature, a technique, an atmos- 
 phere. As the prophet pondered over the problems of the times, 
 a solution sometimes flashed into his mind, doubtless from the 
 subconsciousness. It seemed to come from outside of himself. 
 So he proclaimed his message with the prefatory words, "The 
 word of Yahweh came unto me" or "Thus saith Yahweh." We 
 may feel sure that if his message carried conviction, it was 
 not so much on the ground that he had received it in ecstasy 
 as because it was right and reasonable, and brought conviction 
 to the consciences of his listeners ; its value was measured not 
 so much by the psychological processes by which it was expe- 
 rienced, as by its ethical significance. 
 
 The principle is the same in the inspirations of the New 
 Testament writers and of later saints. The canon of the New 
 Testament consists of those books which the ancient Catholic 
 Church found most helpful in interpreting the Christ and the 
 early Christian experience. Each of these books is the interpre- 
 tation which its author, out of the experience of the age, was 
 able to make of the events and doctrines with which he deals. The 
 saints sometimes spoke and wrote in ecstasy when upheavals 
 from the subconscious supplied the driving power and content 
 of their messages ; and sometimes they wrote in calm delibera- 
 tion employing their ordinary conscious faculties. In either 
 event the saint reflected the spirit of the time; or rather, of 
 course, he interpreted it, bringing out the best that was in it, in 
 some measure rising above it, but not altogether escaping its 
 limitations. And he was revered as a saint because of the moral 
 and religious value of his message as appraised by the critical 
 intelligence of his own and subsequent generations. 
 
 In no age has alleged inspiration been received merely as 
 such ; it has always been compared with authoritative standards. 
 In the history of Christianity, there have been periods of high 
 mystical enthusiasm when the restraint upon the prophets was 
 comparatively slight. Such was the case with the early church ; 
 and such has been the case with numerous mystical movements 
 that have subsequently risen from time to time. But in every 
 
300 MYSTICISM 
 
 such instance standards soon had to be recognized ; either some 
 basis of authority and evaluation was found, or else the move- 
 ment collapsed because of its increasing extravagances. A 
 writer (32) so friendly to mysticism as Professor Rufus M. 
 Jones apparently recognizes this fact, though he (as the author 
 thinks, unwarrantably) regrets it; so enthusiastic a champion 
 of mysticism as Miss Underhill (33) says: "In this, as in all 
 the other and lesser arts which have been developed by the race, 
 education consists largely in a humble willingness to submit to 
 the discipline, and profit by the lessons of the past . 
 here as elsewhere man cannot safely divorce his personal history 
 from that of the race. The best and truest experience does not 
 come to the eccentric and individual pilgrim whose intuitions are 
 his only law ; but rather to him who submits personal intuition 
 to the guidance afforded by the general history of the mystic 
 type." 
 
 VII When Are Mystical States Normal? 
 
 Into the difficult question whether and when mystical states 
 should be classified as normal from a medical standpoint, a 
 layman is not competent to enter. It will only be possible 
 here to suggest the following as a simple working criterion 
 psychiatrists, of course, have better and more technical tests : 
 As a result of his mystical experience, is the 'person in better 
 or in worse health, physically and mentally? There surely can 
 be no doubt that the pious devotion of ordinary earnest Chris- 
 tian and Jewish men and women, characterized above as the 
 "milder mysticism," is beneficial both mentally and physically, 
 and is thoroughly sane and normal. Every practising physician, 
 surely, would welcome and encourage it among any of his 
 patients thus disposed. In the cases of the more pronounced 
 types of mysticism, such as those of the "great mystics," the 
 application of this criterion would probably sometimes furnish 
 an affirmative answer; but in very many cases, if not the 
 majority, it would certainly be in the negative. Few, if any, 
 medical men would encourage any one, who might ask their 
 advice, to cultivate ecstacies, visions, glossolalia, and stigma- 
 tisation; and in taking an unfavorable attitude toward the 
 cultivation of these extraordinary phenomena, the physicians 
 have many of the saints on their side, 34. 
 
 From a moral and religious standpoint a similar criterion 
 is available. Whatever mystical experiences tend to strengthen 
 
NORMALITY 301 
 
 the character of the person, and to render him more successful 
 in realizing for himself and for others the ends of life recognized 
 by the best thought of his age are normal. Whatever mystical 
 experiences tend in the opposite direction are abnormal. Or, 
 if closer approximation to the definition of religion set forth 
 in this book is desired, the criterion might be stated : Whatever 
 mystical experiences tend to promote the conservation of 
 socially recognized values are normal; whatever mystical 
 experiences tend to hinder the conservation of socially recog- 
 nized values are abnormal. 
 
 Applying these criteria, the milder type of mysticism is 
 certainly both religiously and morally desirable. Our age 
 needs more men and women who pray, and who lead lives in 
 which the presence of God manifests itself in acts of piety and 
 love. The moral values of personal righteousness, equity, and 
 charity, need to be cultivated through the mystical process of 
 projecting them into an Alter, and then, through intimate 
 communion with this Alter, attended by the sense of His 
 presence, making them integral constituents of human lives. 
 The same is true of the more recently socially recognized values, 
 equality of opportunity, including more widely diffused 
 educational privileges as well as economic justice, the rights of 
 women and children, willingness on the part of both capitalists 
 and workmen to confer and to seek to gain each other's point 
 of view. In a word, more of that humility and charity that 
 Christianity and Judaism have always inculcated, ought first 
 to be freshly applied to the problems of our age, and then 
 mystically projected into the Alter of twentieth century 
 worship, and in consequence of such worship to become dynamic 
 in the lives of the people of our generation. 
 
 Does our age need mystics of the more pronounced type? 
 This is less certain. Antonio Fogazzaro in II Santo has 
 attempted to portray a saint similar to those of old, living 
 and operating under modern conditions. To one reader, at 
 least, the career of such a saint seems an anachronism. Beauti- 
 ful as are the lives of some of the more mystical saints, like 
 Francis of Assissi and Catherine of Siena, they would be out of 
 place in a twentieth century setting. The socially recognized 
 values of our age could not be conserved through saints like 
 them. Yet, as it seems to the author, the America of the nine- 
 teenth century was not without its mystical saints, such in- 
 clude every one who, led by the Alter of his prayers, "practised 
 
302 MYSTICISM 
 
 in an eminent and heroic degree those virtues which occasion 
 demanded, according to his condition in life, rank and circum- 
 stances" to mention the qualifications for the canonisation of 
 a saint in the language of Benedict XIV, 35. Two such men, 
 surely, were Abraham Lincoln and Phillips Brooks, an 
 unorthodox layman and a liberal clergyman. And there were 
 many others. And, it is to be hoped, there are those who are 
 performing the functions of mystical sainthood in our country 
 to-day. However, they are not ecstatics, but calm and earnest 
 men and women who are walking, as they privately believe 
 but usually do not publicly proclaim, as they are led by the 
 God of their prayers, whose presence sustains and upholds 
 them. 
 
 While, therefore, mysticism of the more extreme types, such 
 as were common during the Middle Ages and perhaps as late 
 as the beginning of the Enlightenment period, would probably 
 be neither normal nor desirable to-day, it does riot follow that 
 many of the great mystics were not normal. St. Francis of 
 Assissi and the order which he established did much to purify 
 and ennoble an age needing the spiritual reformation which they 
 brought to it. Saint Catherine of Siena worked marvels in 
 purifying her city, and much of Italy besides, and in bringing 
 back great ecclesiastics and even the papacy itself then sunk 
 to a low ebb, to Christian ideals that had been forgotten. 
 While their times are not our times, and their ideals not wholly 
 ours, it is hard to see how any fair minded student of history 
 can fail to credit great good to the consecrated devotion to 
 God (as they understood Him) which was the fruit of the 
 mysticism of Ignatius Loyola and his first Jesuit followers, of 
 George Fox and the early Quakers, and of John Bunyan and 
 those whom his books have influenced, to speak of no others. 
 Whether the work of Saint Teresa and Saint John of the 
 Cross can be equally commended, let the reader judge for 
 himself. William James may be unduly severe when he says 
 of Teresa, that "in the main her idea of religion seems to have 
 been that of an endless amatory flirtation if one may say so 
 without irreverence between the devotee and the deity; and 
 apart from helping younger nuns to go in this direction by 
 the inspiration of her example and instruction, there is 
 absolutely no human use in her," and he may be unduly harsh 
 when he refers to John as "a Spanish mystic who flourished 
 or rather who existed, 'for there was little that suggested 
 
TRUTH 303 
 
 flourishing about him in the sixteenth century," 36. Yet the 
 reader may question from what he can recall of the conditions 
 of Spain in the latter half of the sixteenth century, when signs 
 of decadence were already appearing, whether the spiritual 
 service which that country most needed from its gifted mystical 
 children was the multiplication of convents of barefooted men 
 and women practising the austerities of the "unmitigated" 
 Carmelite rule. James is also unqualified in his condemnation 
 of Saint Louis of Gonzaga, the fruits of whose saintship he finds 
 to be pitifully petty, while those in the life of the Blessed 
 Margaret Mary Alacoque were "little else but sufferings and 
 prayers and absences of mind and swoons and ecstasies." Yet, 
 if the former has become "the patron saint of all young people," 
 and the latter's vision of the Sacred Heart did much to bring 
 into official recognition a form of devotion that has been more 
 helpful to Roman Catholics than any other that has been 
 introduced since the Eucharist itself, there must have been 
 something inspiring in the lives of these last two saints as 
 well, 37. 
 
 VIII Mysticism and Truth 
 
 Mystical experiences cannot claim exemption from the same 
 tests as other experiences. Does the deliverance of a mystic 
 concord with what other competent observers have experienced 
 or can experience? Is it rational and coherent in itself? Is ^ 
 it harmonious with what is most certain in human knowledge? J 
 If it agrees with such tests as these, it is probably either true, 
 or symbolical of truth. The fact that a conclusion has been 
 arrived at in ecstasy, or is pointed out in a vision, or comes 
 as a supposed inspiration, does not make it either less or more 
 probable than if it had been reached through more usual 
 channels. In any case it is the deliverance of a human mind, 
 and must be tested by the ordinary canons of common sense, 
 science, and logic. 
 
 Like other forms of religious experience, mystical states 
 are chiefly of value, not in the discovery of new truths, but 
 in engendering euthusiastic devotion and consecration to values ""N 
 already recognized. In this respect mysticism has been of ' 
 inestimable value to religion. "Where there is no vision the 
 people perish." Where there is no mysticism, religion decays 
 and stratifies in dead legalism, formalism, and dogmatism. But 
 the milder form of mysticism with which this chapter began is 
 
304 MYSTICISM 
 
 the best, and probably the only form that any one who is ever 
 likely to read this book should, in the author's opinion at least, 
 attempt to cultivate, 38. 
 
 The relation of mystical experience to God hardly needs 
 elaboration after what has already been said regarding the 
 relation of religious awakening and prayer to God in the two 
 chapters immediately preceding. The two possibilities, if one 
 believes in the existence of God, are those of an external God 
 and of an immanent God. Whoever believes, on philosophical 
 grounds, that there is a God, will readily accept, as in some 
 sense coming from Him, all those mystical experiences, and 
 those alone, which can be regarded as normal in the sense that 
 they actually conserve socially recognized moral values. He 
 will be particularly disposed to believe in the divine inspiration 
 of the Bible, since it has for many centuries and in many lands 
 been a means by which men have gained religious experiences in 
 which their characters have been transformed and enriched. 
 
 REFERENCES. 
 
 *EVELYN UNDERIIILL, Mysticism*. The Mystic Way. 
 
 *JAMES BISSETT PRATT, The Religious Consciousness, Chapters XVI-XX. 
 WILLIAM JAMES, Varieties of Religious Experience, Lectures XI-XVII. 
 *JAMES BAIITON CUTTEN, Psychological Phenomena of Christianity, 
 Chapters III-XI; XXIV. 
 
 *EDWARD S. AMES, Psychology of Religimis Experience, Chapter XVII. 
 *E. BOUTROUX, "The Psychology of Mysticism" in International Journal 
 of Ethics, Vol. XVIII. 
 
 *GEORGE A. COE, Psychology of Religion, Chapter XVI. 
 *HEXHI JOLY, Psychology of the Saints (trans.) 
 *ST. AUGUSTINE OF HIPPO, Confessions. City of God. 
 *TIIOMAS A KEMPIS, Imitation of Christ. 
 
 The History and Life of the Reverend John Tauler (trans, by Susanna 
 Winkworth). 
 
 ST. JULIAN OF NORWICH, Revelations of Divine Love (edited by Grace 
 Warrack). 
 
 81. IGNATIUS LOYOLA, Spiritual Exercises. (Trans, and notes by Joseph 
 Rickaby, S. J.) 
 
 *ST. TERESA OF JESUS, Life. Way of Perfection. Interior Castle. History 
 of the Foundations. 
 
 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS, Ascent of Mount Carmel. 
 GEORGE Fox, Journal. 
 *JOHN BUNYAN, Pilgrim's Progress. 
 JOHN WESLEY, Journal. 
 
 JAMES H. LEUBA, "Tendences fundamentales de mystiques chre'tiens" in 
 Revue philosophique, LIV, pp. 1-36. 
 
 H. DELACROIX, fitudes d'histoire et de psychologic du mysticisme. 
 F. VON HUGEL, The Mystical Element in Religion. Eternal Life. 
 Articles on "Mysticism," "Prayer," "Orison," "Ecstasy," "Asceticism," 
 "Inspiration," "Visions," etc., in Hastings' Encyclopaedia of Religion and 
 Ethics; The Catholic Encyclopaedia; The Jewish Cyclopaedia, etc. 
 
PART III 
 RELIGION AND REALITY 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 I Introductory 
 
 WE have in this Part to face the question, Is Religion true? 
 In Part I, we saw that man has, continuously from primitive 
 times, sought to conserve his socially recognized values through 
 actions that he believed would evoke the aid of a supernatural 
 agency. The agency became more refined and spiritual in the 
 course of historical evolution until it has finally become the 
 God of present-day Judaism and Christianity. In Part II we 
 have just seen that people to-day in processes of religious 
 growth and of conversion, of prayer and of mystical experience, 
 believe that they receive aid and strength from this Agency. 
 We have now to consider whether the weight of philosophical 
 evidence tends to confirm the belief that such a supernatural 
 Agency actually exists in the world, or whether the philosopher 
 should regard this belief as a subjective delusion. This question 
 belongs to Meta/physics, the branch of philosophy that 
 endeavors to ascertain the ultimate nature of man and ofi 
 reality. While other chapters of metaphysics bear upon the 
 question we are now to consider, it has p'enerallv been recog- 
 nized since the time of Immanuel Kant (fl 804), who thoroughly 
 criticized the older arguments for God, that the strongest 
 reasoning in favor of the existence of God is to be found in 
 arguments based upon the acceptance of teleology. 
 
 The purpose of this chapter will be to consider whether or 
 not the world as a whole is teleological, and whether the evolu- 
 tion of the earth, of life upon the earth, and of man, is 
 teleological. If the preponderance of available evidence (for we 
 shall by no means expect to find proof) is favorable to teleology, 
 we shall have ground in subsequent chapters, for affirming that 
 
 305 
 
306 MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 religion in some sense is probably true, and not a subjective 
 delusion. 
 
 Teleology (coming from telos, purpose or end), as here 
 employed, is the theory that the universe as a whole is purpose- 
 ful. It has a value, a meaning. In some sense it is organic 
 and individual. (The terms "universe" and "world as a 
 \vhole" will be used interchangeably, and always in this sense. 
 "Earth" will be employed for the particular planet which we 
 inhabit, never "world.") According to the teleologist, all 
 organisms (including both plants and animals) are wholes, 
 composed of parts that are dependent upon one another, and 
 that co-operate for the good of the organism. In some sense 
 the entire universe is organic; it is a whole composed of parts 
 that work together for a common good. Any particular human 
 being is an individual, who plans his course of action with 
 reference to ends. In some profounder sense the whole universe 
 is, or is directed by, an Individual. Such, in general, is what 
 is meant by teleology in contemporary metaphysics. The 
 teleologist may believe that the universal plan is eternally 
 complete and that it is now being gradually worked out in 
 time; or he may believe that the purposes of the universe, like 
 those of human beings, are subject to continual growth and 
 modification. 
 
 To believe in a purposeful world logically leads to belief in 
 a world Purposer, a Being who plans and carries out the world 
 purposes. So the author believes, and he supposes that most 
 philosophical teleologists believe, in the existence of a God. To 
 be sure, such a conclusion necessitates some philosophical bold- 
 ness, and carries us outside of the field of scientific information 
 entirely. But if the universe is purposeful and individual, it is 
 most natural to suppose that it is subject to the guidance of 
 a directing Mind. All of the higher organisms have minds. 
 If the universe is in some deep sense organic, it must be 
 superior to all limited and finite organisms, and it, too, must 
 have a Mind. If purposes are being carried out in the world 
 order purposes on a vaster and grander scale than ours 
 they must be the purposes of a divine Mind. If the universe 
 is, or is directed by, an Individual, that Individual must be 
 God. Teleologists may believe in an immanent God, who is the 
 world or the soul of the world, and that both God and the 
 world are eternal ; or they may simply affirm the presence of a 
 progressive principle inherent in the world order ; or they may 
 
INTRODUCTORY 307 
 
 believe that God is the transcendent Creator of all things, and 
 is eternal while other things are not. The last of these positions 
 inclines to theism, while the first and second are pantheistic 
 in tendency; but, as already has been remarked (in Part II) 
 and as we shall see more clearly in the following chapter, 
 theism and pantheism, as held by philosophers at the present 
 time, are not so sharply antagonistic positions as in the past. 
 
 Acceptance of the teleological view of the world would 
 accordingly, in the author's opinion at least, lead to the conclu- 
 sion that in the evolution of religions man has gradually 
 become more conscious and appreciative of a Being that truly 
 exists. The evolution from animism to the higher spiritual 
 religions has been the development of man's understanding of 
 the ultimate ground of his own existence ; or, as idealists some- 
 times express it, this evolution is the progress by which God 
 comes to self-consciousness in the human race. In like manner, 
 continuous religious growth, spontaneous awakenings, conver- 
 sions, prayer and mystical experiences are mental states and 
 processes through which individual men become aware of the 
 divine Presence; or, stated idealistically, processes through 
 which God comes to self-consciousness in the mind of an indi- 
 vidual human being, 1. 
 
 The metaphysical theory opposed to Teleology is called 
 Mechanism. This is the doctrine that the world, taken as a 
 whole, is not purposeful; it is governed by unchanging natural 
 laws which could be described and formulated with mathematical 
 precision if we were in possession of all the necessary data. 
 Certain of these laws have already been thus formulated, such 
 as the laws of gravitation and the conservation of energy. The 
 extreme form of the doctrine is well expressed in the words of 
 La Place (f!827), the French astronomer who advanced the 
 nebular hypothesis, "We ought then to regard the present 
 state of the universe as the effect of its antecedent state, and 
 as the cause of the state that is to follow. An intelligence 
 who for a single instant should be acquainted with all the forces 
 by which nature is animated, and with the several positions of 
 the beings composing it, if further his intellect were vast enough 
 to submit these data to analysis, would be able to include in 
 one and the same formula the movements of the largest bodies 
 in the Universe, and those of the lightest atom. Nothing would 
 be uncertain for him; the future as well as the past would be 
 present to his eyes," 2. As a matter of fact, astronomers 
 
308 MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 have formulated the motions of the various planets, and they 
 calculate their positions at remote periods in the past and the 
 future with mathematical precision. To the extreme mechanist 
 the analogy suggests that everything that occurs is subject to 
 the laws of matter and motion, which are rigid and unchanging, 
 devoid of plan or purpose, meaning or individuality, in the 
 teleological sense. 
 
 The mechanical theory has several arguments in its favor. 
 The most exact natural sciences are mechanical. The laws of 
 physics can be stated in mathematical formulae, and can be 
 verified by experiment. The principles of chemistry admit of 
 precise description and experimental verification. Biological 
 principles are at present more indefinite, but many of the 
 phenomena of life can already be reduced to physical and 
 chemical statements. It is argued, that when biology is more 
 developed, all vital phenomena will be thus reducible. Human 
 conduct, whether that of individuals as studied by psychology, 
 or of groups as studied by sociology, can all be regarded, it 
 is maintained, as the reactions to external stimuli of an animal 
 with an unusually complex brain and nervous system. Much 
 human behavior can already be described in terms of nervous 
 reflexes. Ultimately, it is urged by the philosophical 
 mechanist, all conduct will be found to consist of nervous 
 reflexes, which can be explained in terms of physics and 
 chemistry. Thomas Hobbes (f!679), one of the greatest 
 materialistic mechanists in modern times, said, "Whatever 
 exists in matter, whatever changes is motion." Most mechanists 
 of the present time, however, unlike Hobbes are not materialists. 
 They usually admit that consciousness is not a form of physical 
 matter or energy; they say that it is merely a by-product of 
 nervous action, or an external relation that sometimes exists 
 between nerve cells, but which occupies no important place in 
 an account of the world as a whole. 
 
 Scientists who are mechanists urge that a mechanical expla- 
 nation of phenomena is always clear-cut, and definite, capable 
 of verification by experiment. The student in physics and 
 chemistry can verify for himself in the laboratory the principles 
 laid down in his text books. To an increasing extent many 
 principles in the various branches of biology are not only 
 matters of precise description and experiment, but are made 
 practical use of everywhere that agriculture is carried on 
 scientifically. As for human behavior, it can at least be sub- 
 
INTRODUCTORY 309 
 
 jected to statistical investigation, and economic and psy- 
 chological processes can often be formulated in quanti- 
 tative statements and plotted in graphs. On the other hand, 
 teleological statements are usually vague and incapable of 
 confirmation by exact experiments. 
 
 In reply to the mechanists, scientists who use teleological 
 methods, including the advocates of vitalism (one teleological 
 standpoint in biology) and those who adhere to idealistic 
 standpoints in history, sociology, psychology and ethics, 
 maintain that the mechanical point of view utterly fails to 
 explain many established facts, while teleological theories, 
 though confessedly less precise, have the advantage of at least 
 recognizing all the actual facts and of furnishing a partially 
 satisfactory account of them. 
 
 A philosopher who is a mechanist does not think it necessary 
 that every science at the present time should be mechanical 
 in all its methods. To be sure such a philosopher believes that 
 the world as a whole is fundamentally mechanical and that all 
 the sciences will ultimately become completely mechanical in 
 the course of their further development. But he is often willing 
 to concede that, for the time being, in some of the less 
 developed sciences it may be justifiable, in a provisional way, 
 to use teleological modes of explanation. The physiologist, for 
 instance, may occasionally find it convenient, at least for peda- 
 gogical reasons, to speak of the various bodily organs as 
 having "purposes" which they endeavor to perform. Such 
 manner of speech the mechanistic philosopher regards as purely 
 provisional and figurative; the bodily functions are really 
 mechanical processes subject to the laws of physics and 
 chemistry, just as much as is anything that goes on in the 
 inorganic world. 
 
 A philosopher who is a teleologist similarly is willing to 
 concede that many sciences, or perhaps all of them even, ought 
 to employ mechanical methods on account of their greater 
 simplicity, accuracy, and practical usefulness. This is a 
 question that the scientist must decide for himself. In each 
 science it is necessary to consider the world from a single 
 point of view ; the investigator is free to make whatever 
 assumption he finds needful, to select whatever facts he chooses 
 to regard as lying within the domain of his science, and to 
 describe these facts on the basis of the assumptions that he 
 has made. The physicist, for instance, without seriously 
 
310 MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 attempting to explain the nature of space, time, matter, motion, 
 and energy, simply takes them for granted, and upon the basis 
 of these assumptions, he has been successful in describing a 
 large variety of phenomena in a purely mechanical way, 3. The 
 biologist and the psychologist may, if they prefer, follow the 
 example of the physicist, and make what assumptions they 
 choose as to life and consciousness, and on the basis of these 
 assumptions they may go on to describe whatever phenomena 
 they find themselves able to interpret along mechanistic lines. 
 Or the biologist and the psychologist, may, if they wish to 
 make their sciences more comprehensive in scope, instead of 
 ignoring facts which cannot be described mechanistically, 
 introduce teleological methods of interpretation. Thus, 
 although the ultimate explanation of the world as a whole is 
 teleological, it may be more practicable for many scientists 
 to use mechanical explanations within the restricted fields of 
 their sciences. In this connection, some teleologists call atten- 
 tion to the fact that the very word "mechanical" etymologically 
 related as it is to "machine" implies a tool manufactured for a 
 practical purpose. The mechanical methods of explanation 
 used in the sciences are simply artificial devices tools or 
 machines as it were invented by man to carry out his purposes. 
 In other words, mechanism itself, in the view of some philosoph- 
 ical teleologists, is a teleological device. 
 
 It will be evident to the reader that the issue between 
 mechanism and teleology is an unsettled question. If all the 
 evidence were upon either side, or, if some crucial experiment 
 or theoretical demonstration had been found that could conclu- 
 sively dispose of the matter, there would be no difference of 
 opinion on the subject to-day. To be sure, there are 
 philosophical arguments, based upon idealism (4) that are con- 
 vincing to the author, and to very many, perhaps the majority 
 of philosophical thinkers to-day. But space does not admit 
 of an adequate presentation of these arguments in this book, 
 and, besides, quite a number of philosophical students jtftday 
 4g_ not accept idealism^ Without assuming idealism or any 
 other particular philosophical theory to begin with, let us try 
 to weigh the general drift of evidence in the various sciences, 
 and to ascertain whether the net balance of probability inclines 
 toward mechanism or toward teleology. In life we continually 
 have to act upon probabilities. Very little of our knowledge 
 about anything (outside of mathematics and formal logic at 
 
INTRODUCTORY 311 
 
 least) is absolutely certain. If it is fairly clear that the 
 general weight of evidence falls either in the direction of 
 mechanism or of teleology, we ought to form our conclusions 
 accordingly. 
 
 The great outstanding fact in the sciences to-day is that 
 the world as we know it is the product of evolution. Whether 
 adhering to the nebular hypothesis of La Place or to the 
 planetesimal hypothesis of Chamberlain and Moulton, or to 
 neither, astronomers are agreed that our solar system has 
 evolved in accordance with physical and chemical laws. After 
 the crust constituting the surface of the earth had passed 
 through various geological phases, living beings appeared 
 upon it, whose bodies were composed of protoplasm, a 
 development from inorganic matter which alone previously had 
 existed. Biologists trace the descent of the various forms of 
 plant and animal life now in existence from this original proto- 
 plasm. Comparative psychologists show with reasonable 
 probability at what stages of animal development the various 
 phases of consciousness made their appearance. The, main 
 facts in human social evolution the earliest forms of human 
 society, the beginnings of language, industry, religion and 
 morality, as well as the course of the further development of 
 each are now approximately established. 
 
 Suppose a scholarly visitor from another planet, say Mars, 
 were told the history of the early development of our Earth, of 
 its later evolution together with that of life upon it, of the 
 appearance of man and of his history down to the present time, 
 and were thoughtfully to review the evidence, would he conclude 
 that the mechanists or the teleologists are right? Would he 
 decide that this whole course of evolution has been without 
 conscious design or purpose (other than has been effected by 
 man himself) in accordance with natural laws? Or would he 
 agree with Tennyson's Locksley Hall poems that "through the 
 ages one increasing purpose runs," and that 
 
 "Many an Aeon moulded earth before her highest, man, was born, 
 Many an Aeon, too, may pass when earth is manless and forlorn, 
 Earth so huge, and yet so bounded pools of salt, and plots of land 
 Shallow skin of green and azure chains of mountain, grains of sand! 
 Only That which made us, meant us to be mightier by and by, 
 Set the sphere of all the boundless Heavens within the human eye, 
 Sent the shadow of Himself, the boundless, thro' the human soul; 
 Boundless inward, in the atom, boundless outward, in the Whole." 
 
312 INORGANIC EVOLUTION 
 
 II Inorganic Evolution 
 
 Well, let us review the evidence. Before the appearance of 
 life upon the earth, when only inorganic matter existed on this 
 planet, it would at first appear that only mechanical processes 
 could have been operative. The sciences that_deal with 
 inorganic matter astronomy, physics, chemistry, and geology 
 are all strictly mechanical in their viewpoints. They find no 
 occasion for the employment of teleological methods or theories. 
 But can these sciences successfully account for all the facts, 
 that then were in existence? Professor Lawrence J. Henderson. 
 a biological chemist who believes that mechanistic methods 
 should be employed in science, answers this question in the 
 negative. Before there was life upon the earth's surface, there 
 existed in the earth and its atmosphere, in large quantities. 
 the very elements (oxygen, hydrogen and carbon) and com- 
 pounds (water and carbonic acid) that were best fitted to favor 
 the appearance of life. Organisms to survive must exchange 
 matter and energy with their environment. "There are no 
 other compounds which share more than a small part of the 
 qualities of fitness (for life) of water and carbonic acid; no 
 other elements which share those of carbon, hydrogen and 
 oxygen," 5. Nor is there any known explanation why these 
 particular elements and compounds happily were present, 
 rather than others. "There is, in truth, not one chance in 
 countless millions of millions that the many unique properties 
 of carbon, hydrogen and oxygen, and especially of their stable 
 compounds, water and carbonic acid, which chiefly make up the 
 atmosphere of a new planet, should simultaneously occur in 
 the three elements otherwise than through the operation of a 
 natural law which somehow connects them together. There 
 is no greater probability that these unique properties should 
 be without due cause uniquely favorable to the organic 
 mechanism. These are no mere accidents ; an explanation is to 
 seek. It must be admitted, however, that no explanation is at 
 hand," 6. This consideration, together with others, such as 
 the inability of mechanistic science to account for ultimates 
 like matter, energy, and life, leads Professor Henderson to 
 believe in an "order of nature" that must be teleological. "It 
 is evident that a perfect mechanistic description of a house may 
 be conceived. Within the world of physical science the whole 
 process is logically complete without consideration of the 
 
INORGANIC EVOLUTION 313 
 
 architect's design and purpose." Yet, of course, the architect's 
 design and purpose were determining factors in the building 
 of the house. It is at least conceivable that a tendency similar 
 to that of the architect's design may be working steadily 
 through the whole process of cosmic evolution, 7. Nature must 
 always be regarded from two complementary points of view, 
 both of which are true, mechanism and teleology, 8. 
 
 Professor Henderson has argued that combinations of chem- 
 ical elements and compounds existed, prior to the emergence of 
 life, which were admirably fitted for life, that, out of the millions 
 of various combinations that were mathematically possible, this 
 one was the most favorable. Such a happy combination of 
 circumstances can not be merely a matter of chance. There 
 must be a reason for it. There is no known or conceivable 
 mechanical reason. Therefore we most assume teleology. 
 Teleology, however, for Professor Henderson, is not a scientific 
 explanation ; it is extra-scientific, and, like the architect's plan- 
 ning of the house, it does not belong in the account of things 
 that a physical science furnishes. None the less, teleology is 
 a fundamental characteristic of the order of nature, 9. 
 
 It may be urged, however, against such an argument as this, 
 that perhaps the existence of the combination of factors most 
 favorable to life, prior to its appearance, is not pecuilar to 
 the history of the Earth. Possibly this combination may 
 exist everywhere in the universe. Well, suppose it does? If 
 this could be shown to be true, it would further strengthen 
 the evidence for teleolgy; for, on this assumption, everywhere 
 in the universe, when planets cool and crusts form on them, 
 the combination of elements most favorable for the emergence 
 of life is present. This would be an argument for universal 
 teleology. But some one may offer another objection. He may 
 say, "For life, as we know it upon the Earth, carbon, hydrogen 
 and oxygen, water and carbonic acid, in the proportions in 
 which they exist here, are the most favorable combination. 
 But, in planets with different constitutions, may there not be 
 life of wholly different sorts from any that we know? Given 
 such a planet as the Earth, with a certain chemical combination 
 a correlative kind of life A evolves ; given some other planet 
 with the chemical combination b, a correlative type of life B 
 evolves ; and in yet another planet the chemical combination c 
 gives rise to a third form of life, C. Everywhere the form of 
 life appears for which the already existing chemical combin- 
 
MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 ation is most favorable, a-A, b-B, c-C, and so on. Never does 
 B appear in connection with a or C in connection with b. Would 
 not this be universal mechanism?" The teleologist could rejoin: 
 "Hardly. Such a condition would be one of universal teleology ! 
 Such a universe would be indeed the best of possible worlds! 
 Everywhere matter would give rise to the form, of life most 
 fitted for existence in conjunction with it." Unluckily for the 
 interests of teleology, however, this supposition which can be so 
 readily turned into an argument for teleology, appears improb- 
 able to scientists. Physiological chemists are unable to con- 
 ceive of any metabolism for which a different chemical combina- 
 tion would be nearly so favorable as that which we know upon 
 the Earth. 
 
 The objection seems to be stated in a somewhat different form 
 by Professor Durant Drake, who says, "instead of marvelling, 
 for example, that the earth's atmosphere should have just the 
 right proportion of oxygen, carbonic acid gas, etc., to maintain 
 the organic life which exists on its surface, we can point out 
 that organic life has come to be of such a nature as to utilize 
 precisely such proportions of gases because it has crept into 
 existence under these conditions. On another planet, where 
 much more CO 2 exists, living forms, if any have there come into 
 existence, will be of such a nature as to thrive on a greater 
 proportion of that gas." When Professor Drake here speaks 
 of the possibility that "life has crept into existence" in other 
 planets under other conditions, his metaphor is ambiguous. Does 
 he mean that life evolves out of the matter already in existence 
 on the planet? If so, he has been answered in the preceding 
 paragraph. But his language seems to suggest that "life" 
 is something different from matter, which "creeps into exis- 
 tence" wherever it finds a favorable environment. If this is what 
 he means, "life" is something different from matter, and uses 
 matter for its purposes when it can. Wherever in the universe 
 it can succeed in doing this, life, in this case a teleological 
 principle, becomes dominant. 
 
 Such a theory of life has been brilliantly championed by 
 Professor Henri Bergson, one of the most renowned philoso- 
 phers of our time, 10. He calls attention to the fact that all 
 life, plant and animal alike, depends upon the expenditure, in 
 the various vital processes, of energy that has previously been 
 stored up in digestion. Animals either directly or indirectly 
 derive their sustenance from plants. The latter gather in the 
 
INORGANIC EVOLUTION 315 
 
 energy that makes their own life and that of animals possible, 
 through the chlorophyllian function, a process which consists 
 in using solar energy to fix the carbon of carbonic acid. The 
 life process thus suggests the analogy of a mill run by water 
 power, which involves the expenditure of energy that has previ- 
 ously been extracted from the fall of water in a stream. All 
 that is essential for the life process to go on in any solar system 
 is for solar energy to be stored. Instead of carbon other ele- 
 ments may serve this purpose in other solar systems. The 
 result, of course, would be living forms without any analogy 
 to those we know, with different anatomy and physiology; 
 indeed, it is even conceivable that life may be present in an 
 environment of matter not yet solidified, as in a nebula. All that 
 is necessary is to assume that energy descends the incline indi- 
 cated by Carnot's law of entropy (the second law of thermo- 
 dynamics) and that some way of storing up this energy can be 
 found ; in other words, life is probably in existence "in all the 
 worlds suspended from all the stars." Bergson, however, as- 
 sumes, in order to make this possible, that everywhere there is an 
 impetus of life (Velan vital) which is not material at all, and 
 that this impetus actively selects and stores the energy that 
 makes the life of organisms possible. Whereas Professor Berg- 
 son conceives matter as mechanical, he places in the universe in 
 opposition to matter the vital impulse, which is psychical, and 
 teleological, in the sense in which the latter term is employed in 
 this book, 11. The evolution of life and the production of the 
 various species is due to the selective activity of this impulse. 
 The latter is "essentially a current sent through matter, draw- 
 ing from it what it can." On the earth it has been most suc- 
 cessful in producing man, having been blocked in the other 
 directions in which it has moved, 12. 
 
 We may therefore conclude that mechanism has been suc- 
 cessful in its account of cosmic evolution at the expense of ig- 
 noring some of the factors in operation. From the stand- 
 point of scientific problems mechanistic scientists may have 
 been right in ignoring these factors. The fact remains that 
 they have ignored them. Whoever desires to give a philo- 
 sophical account of the evolution of the world as a whole can 
 ignore no factor that has been operative in this evolution. He, 
 therefore, is forced to choose between recognizing a teleologi- 
 cal principle in the order of nature, as Professor Henderson 
 does, or going still further, and assuming with Professor Berg- 
 
316 MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 son a psychical element in evolution that operates in interac- 
 tion with matter, and achieves its purposes in the evolution of 
 life. Either alternative gives a place to teleology. So far as 
 the author is able to see there is no escape between these two 
 alternatives, in a philosophical system that accepts any scien- 
 tific account of cosmic evolution as descriptive of ultimate 
 Reality. 
 
 To be sure, there are certain philosophers who deny that 
 the cosmic evolution of the mechanistic scientists is in any 
 sense a true description of ultimate Reality. Such writers do 
 not usually question the fact that there has been cosmic evo- 
 lution but they point out that the mechanical sciences are built 
 upon the acceptance of conceptions of matter, motion, energy, 
 space, time, and causation that are full of logical contradic- 
 ions and inconsistencies. They argue that these conceptions 
 cannot be literally true; they are arbitrary devices of thought 
 useful only for certain practical purposes, and they leave out 
 more than they include. An account of evolution uncritically 
 built upon such conceptions is therefore quite misleading. 
 Philosophers who assume this attitude often the author be- 
 lieves usually either profess to be agnostics (as Herbert 
 Spencer) but really hold views that logically lead to belief in 
 teleology and God (as John Fiske showed to be true of Spen- 
 cer's philosophy) or else are avowed teleologists (as Josiah 
 Royce, Hugo Miinsterberg, Professor James Ward, Professor 
 W. R. Sorley, Professor Emile Boutroux, and Professor Mary 
 W. Calkins.) 
 
 Ill Are Organisms Mechanistic or Teleological? 
 
 The next great step in the evolution of the earth that con- 
 cerns the philosophical student is the appearance of life. Can 
 living beings be understood mechanistically or must they be 
 interpreted teleologically ? Here, again, we must keep clearly 
 in mind what the issue really is, so far as it concerns a philo- 
 sophical interpretation of the world. The mechanistic philos- 
 opher maintains that mechanism can be relied upon, at least with 
 the further development of science, to give a full account of the 
 nature of the organism in all its aspects ; teleology is superflu- 
 ous and untrue. The teleological philosopher, on the con- 
 trary, maintains that life has a teleological side which is really 
 more fundamental than the mechanistic side. Whether, how- 
 ever, teleology should be employed as a working conception in 
 
ORGANISMS 317 
 
 the biological laboratory, or whether biologists should use mech- 
 anistic methods exclusively, because of their greater accuracy 
 and definiteness in experimental observations, is a question for 
 the biologists themselves to decide ; the teleological philosopher 
 simply maintains that the biologist must choose between giving 
 a partial account of life on a mechanistic basis and a fuller 
 account that includes its teleological features. 
 
 There are numerous arguments in favor of a mechanistic 
 conception of life. In the first place, organisms obey the same 
 physical laws, and they are composed of the same chemical ele- 
 ments that are found in inorganic nature. To be sure, there 
 are chemical combinations that are found only in living organ- 
 isms, and persist only during life ; but so vigorous an anti- 
 mechanist as Dr. J. S. Haldane admits that "there is no reason 
 for believing that any ultimate difficulty will be experienced 
 in artificially forming any of the chemical substances which 
 have been discovered, or are ever likely to be discovered, with- 
 in the body," 13. "Another fundamental fact is that the whole 
 of the energy which is liberated in the body, whether as heat, 
 mechanical work, or in other forms, can be traced to sources 
 outside the body," 14. Mechanists urge that in all biological 
 investigations either structure or activity are being investigat- 
 ed, and that in the organism no structure or activity can be 
 found that is not physical and chemical. The history of mod- 
 ern physiology is claimed by mechanists to show uninterrupted 
 progress in the successful application of physical and chemical 
 methods to physiological problems; a vast amount of physical 
 and chemical knowledge regarding the nature of life has been 
 accumulated, 15. 
 
 The organism, however, as the teleologist points out, possess- 
 es a variety of unique features. Each organ is dependent on 
 the others, and is what it is because they are what they. are; 
 the parts of a living being, whether plant or animal, belong 
 in a system with one another, such as we do not find in the 
 inorganic world. The mechanist, in reply to this argument, 
 is likely to remark, "Machines possess this whole and part re- 
 lation. Take a watch, for instance. Each wheel and spring 
 belongs in a system with the others, has its particular function 
 to perform, and finds its significance in the meaning of the 
 watch as a whole, an instrument to register time. Organisms, 
 therefore, are simply machines. To be sure, they are unusually 
 complicated and efficient machines ; but machines they are, none 
 
S18 MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 the less," 16. The teleologist here rejoins, "True, to some ex- 
 tent organisms are like machines. But this is because machines 
 are, in part, teleological. There are always two ways of look- 
 ing at a machine. You can examine each part, lever, wheel, axle 
 or spring, and see how its action is caused by the action of 
 some other part with which it is connected. Such an explana- 
 tion is a causal or mechanistic explanation, and by means of 
 it you can show the relation of each part of a machine to every 
 other one. But you can also look at a machine teleologically. 
 You can ask, what is it for? What purpose does the machine 
 perform? And, in the light of your knowledge of the purpose 
 of the machine as a whole, you can find out what each spring, 
 wheel and other part contributes to this purpose. Both ex- 
 planations are true ; and, since they both are true, neither ex- 
 cludes the other. But the teleological explanation in a sense 
 is the more fundamental, since the machine was manufactured 
 to carry out the purposes of human beings, and would never 
 have been brought into existence at all except for these pur- 
 poses. Every machine is the embodiment in material form of a 
 purpose which it expresses ; and, if it is a successful machine, 
 which it fulfils. If organisms really were machines, we should 
 have to assume, with the old-fashioned teleologists, such as 
 Paley, that they are all immediately created by a divine Mind 
 to carry out His purposes, just as watches are manufactured 
 by the watch maker to carry out his purposes." 
 
 However, the teleologist of the present time is not willing 
 to admit that organisms are entirely like machines. He points 
 out that organisms are teleological in many respects in which 
 machines are not. Ah organism automatically exchanges mat- 
 ter and energy with its physical environment ; and, in the case 
 of an animal, if food is not in its immediate presence, it goes 
 forth in search of it ; so that a prospective future outcome de- 
 termines its present action. Only in case of organisms does 
 a future end control present action ; in the case of machines the 
 immediately preceding cause completely determines the follow- 
 ing event. Moreover, if the animal cannot find his favorite 
 food, he will accept a substitute. If some part of an organ- 
 ism is not too severely injured, processes of repair will at once 
 set in ; and, in the meantime, other parts will perform the func- 
 tions of the injured part. In the human brain, highly special- 
 ized though it is, the extent to which such substitution of func- 
 tions may take place is truly marvelous. Then, too, organisms 
 
ORGANISMS 319 
 
 reproduce themselves. If we call the organism an engine, it 
 must be as Professor J. A. Thomson has remarked, "a self- 
 stoking, self -repairing, self -preservative, self-adjusting, self- 
 increasing, self-reproducing engine," 17. In some respects lino- 
 type machines and machines used for the manufacture of 
 other machines, have been instanced by mechanists, but such 
 comparisons are so far-fetched as scarcely to merit discus- 
 sion, 18. 
 
 For the mechanist to contend as Professor Loeb does, that 
 all these functions of the organism involve physical and chem- 
 ical processes, is no reply ; many philosophical teleologists are 
 quite willing to admit this contention. Valuable as have been 
 the researches of Professor Loeb and his school in discovering 
 the nature of these processes, and much as they possibly may 
 vindicate the claim that biologists should use mechanistic 
 methods exclusively on the ground of their great simplicity, 
 practicability, and fruitfulness in new discovery, they do not 
 affect the philosophical aspects of the case. The philosophical 
 teleologist can afford to admit that from one point of view 
 every structure and function in the organism is the effect of 
 physical and chemical causes ; but he maintains that the organ- 
 ism also has its purposes which it carries out through its parts, 
 and that these parts contribute to the whole. One can no more 
 refute the teleology of an organism by showing that all its 
 structures and processes are physical and chemical, than he 
 could show that a building has no plan or purpose because all 
 the material of which it is composed bricks and mortar and 
 lumber and nails consists wholly of chemical elements subject 
 to physical laws. Even the behavior of the lowliest animal 
 organisms, such as the amoeba, stentor, and paramaecium, 
 Avhich Professor Loeb and his school believed could be described 
 exclusively in mechanistic terms (such as tropisms) Professor 
 H. S. Jennings has found to involve the same characteristics as 
 the behavior of higher animals. The amoeba, similar as it is 
 in appearance, by no means has the inertness of a drop of water. 
 In its behavior may be distinguished factors comparable to the 
 habits, reflexes and automatic activities of higher organisms. 
 It seeks food, and endeavors to escape from its enemies, includ- 
 ing its cannibal fellow amoebae. "All the results taken together 
 lead to the conclusion that neither the usual movements nor the 
 reactions of Amoeba have as yet been resolved into known phy- 
 sical factors. There is the same unbridged gap between the 
 
320 MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 physical effect of the stimulus and the reaction of the organ- 
 ism that we find in higher animals," 19. 
 
 Nor would the situation be different if Professor Loeb or one 
 of his disciples were to succeed some time in manufacturing an 
 organism out of chemical substances. This possibility is per- 
 haps not wholly inconceivable, in view of their success in arti- 
 ficially fertilizing ova by chemical and mechanical means. Every 
 animal or plant consists exclusively of physical matter. If the 
 scientist can succeed in bringing together the right combina- 
 tions of matter, why should he not make an organism? To be 
 sure, this organism would have been manufactured by a human 
 being, for a purpose. It would really be a machine, and, like 
 every machine, it would have its teleological aspects ; and it 
 would excel all machines now in existence by possessing these 
 characteristics of organisms which machines now do* not have. 
 And such a discovery would be pretty sure to throw light on 
 the way in which organisms developed on the earth's surface 
 from inorganic matter, 20. 
 
 But if we knew the manner in which life has evolved from in- 
 organic matter, or, in other words, the manner in which or- 
 ganisms that have teleological aspects have developed from 
 particles of matter which, taken separate from the world as a 
 whole are devoid of teleological aspects, we should not be 
 forced to the admission that organisms are not teleological, 21. 
 On the other hand, we should continue to claim that there must 
 have been some sort of immanent purposiveness in the environ- 
 ment as a whole, which brought together into organisms the 
 particles of matter that, in the form of organisms, manifest 
 teleology. When there as yet was no life on the earth, there 
 was a teleological process going on preparatory to life, as the 
 happy combination of elements and compounds on the earth's 
 surface shows. This teleology went, not merely so far as to 
 effect the right combinations of carbon, oxygen and hydrogen 
 in water and carbonic acid, but also to effect the further happy 
 combinations of minuter bits of matter into the first plant and 
 animal organisms. Indeed, the teleologist may claim that the 
 successful manufacture of organisms in biological laboratories, 
 and still more, a convincing explanation of how the first or- 
 ganisms on the earth's surface developed from the material 
 elements then in existence, will considerably strengthen the 
 arguments for teleology. 
 
 We have seen that it is quite possible for the philosophical 
 
BIOLOGICAL EVOLUTION 321 
 
 teleologist to accept mechanism as a satisfactory working hypo- 
 thesis in biology, and al; the same time to maintain that life, 
 when considered in all its aspects, must be regarded as having 
 a teleological side. Dr. John Scott Haldane, one of the few 
 physiologists who understands the philosophical aspects of the 
 problem, goes further than this, and wishes to introduce the 
 philosophical conception of the whole and part relation into 
 biology itself. He argues that the mechanistic theories do not 
 work well, even for biological purposes, that they totally fail 
 to give satisfactory explanations of such organic processes as 
 growth, reproduction, the secretory action of the kidneys and 
 breathing. On the contrary, he believes that the whole and 
 part conception explains these processes satisfactorily ; and he 
 credits to the acceptance of this conception important discov- 
 eries which have been made in his laboratory at Oxford regard- 
 ing the process of breathing, 22. 
 
 IV Biological Evolution 
 
 Mechanists have often affirmed that, marvelous as are the 
 adaptiveness of the organism and its whole and part relations, 
 these can, since the rise of the doctrine of evolution, be shown 
 to have originated in a purely mechanical way. The process 
 of evolution, in other words, is claimed by them to be purely 
 mechanistic. Teleologists of the present time are willing to 
 admit that, since Charles Darwin in 1859 conclusively proved 
 that all present forms of plant and animal life have had a com- 
 mon ancestry, the old-fashioned conception of teleology based 
 on the doctrine of immediate creation is impossible. But mod- 
 ern teleology is as much evolutionary as is modern mechanism. 
 Let us briefly examine the more important modern theories of 
 evolution which are claimed by mechanists to account for the 
 development of organisms into their present forms in a manner 
 that excludes teleology. 
 
 First, let us consider the evolutionary doctrine of Darwin 
 himself. This may briefly be summed up under five points, 
 heredity, variation, struggle for existence, natural selection and 
 sexual selection. In each generation of plants and animals, the 
 offspring in the main inherit the characteristics of their par- 
 ents, such is the law of heredity. However, they are never 
 completely like their parents, each individual varies slightly 
 both from parents and from others of the same generation ; this 
 is the law of variation. The rate of reproduction in each gen- 
 
322 
 
 eration is far too rapid to make it possible for all of the off- 
 spring to survive, reach maturity, and leave offspring in turn ; 
 on the contrary, the majority of eggs and young plants and 
 animals perish in the three-fold struggle for existence that they 
 are compelled to wage with the adverse conditions of climate 
 and other factors in the physical environment, with other spec- 
 ies of life, and with other members of their own species. Such 
 is the struggle for existence. In consequence, in each genera- 
 tion there will survive only those particular individuals of each 
 species whose variations are most favorable in the struggle for 
 existence, whether affording greater strength of muscle or 
 sharper teeth and claws, for combat, or greater fleetness of 
 foot for flight, or more protective coloring for concealment, 
 or what not. Most of the offspring in the next generation will 
 inherit the favorable variations of their parents, while some 
 of them will be so fortunate as to possess these characteristics 
 in a further developed form, and so will survive in the struggle 
 for existence. Thus natural selection has gone on in the past; 
 by this wholly mechanical process, as the mechanists claim it 
 to be, a selection has slowly taken place among plants and ani- 
 mals and new species in time have originated. This is just as 
 truly a selection as that artificially effected by stock breeders ; 
 but, unlike the latter, there is no conscious purposiveness about 
 it at all; it is as blindly mechanical a process as the manner 
 in which drops of water fall in accordance with the law of grav- 
 itation. Sexual selection is an hypothesis advanced by Darwin 
 to explain the brilliant plumage and songs of male birds, and 
 ornamental features of other male animals which are apparent- 
 ly of no value in the struggle for survival, on the ground that 
 the males most favored with these characteristics won out in 
 competition with the others for the preference of the females. 
 When we examine these five features of Darwinism a little 
 more closely we perceive that they are by no means decisive for 
 mechanism. In the first place the whole theory assumes the 
 struggle for existence. It assumes, in other words, that plants 
 and animals endeavor to survive. To be sure, this endeavor is 
 not conscious endeavor, in the human sense. Nevertheless, it 
 is an endeavor to accomplish a purpose. Mere particles of 
 inorganic matter could not struggle with each other and with 
 the environment for existence. Plants and animals, on the con- 
 trary, do not passively follow the line of least resistance; they 
 adapt themselves to the environment, and the parts of the plant 
 
BIOLOGICAL EVOLUTION 323 
 
 or animal organism adjust themselves to one another. While 
 Darwinism is superficially mechanistic in its account of natural 
 selection, it assumes a struggle for existence; and for an organ- 
 ism to struggle implies that it has a teleological side, 23. Far 
 from being through and through a mechanistic theory, Dar- 
 winism logically rests on teleological foundations. 
 
 The Darwinian theory contains many other defects and dif- 
 ficulties. One of the most serious of these is its failure in any 
 way to account for the origin of variations. Why do variations 
 occur? Some mechanists try to alleviate this difficulty by call- 
 ing attention to the Mcndelian laws, according to which many 
 variations in each generation appear in different individuals in 
 accordance with the mathematical laws of choice and chance. 
 But unless mechanists are really willing to maintain that some 
 things in the universe actually occur by pure chance, they must 
 admit that there are causes for variations, and that variations 
 simply appear to us to be due to chance because we do not know 
 what the causes are. To attribute anything to chance, is, in 
 other words, a confession of ignorance. For the mechanist, 
 surely, as for other scientists, every event must be assumed 
 to have a cause. The advance of science in modern times has 
 always been based on this assumption. Another difficulty is, 
 that with the exception of the relatively few cases that could 
 be brought under sexual selection, Darwinism is only able to 
 explain useful variations. On the contrary, many variations 
 have appeared and long survived in organic evolution that were 
 not useful at all. Again, some biologists maintain the doctrine 
 of orthogenesis, i. e., that variations occur only in a few definite 
 directions and continue in these directions ; since such variations 
 cannot be due to chance, they might be thought to suggest 
 teleology. 
 
 Still another objection is, that if variations appear in 
 only a few individuals in a generation, the individuals posses- 
 sing them would probably mate with individuals that did not 
 possess them, and the variations would be unlikely to be trans- 
 mitted to succeeding generations ; and if the same variations 
 appeared in more than a few individuals at one time, it could 
 not be due to chance, there would be a reason for its appear- 
 ance. A further difficulty is raised by the consideration that 
 the struggle for existence in very many if not in the majority 
 of cases, is over before the offspring is mature enough to profit 
 by favorable variations. Weismann, a zealous defender of 
 
324. MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 Darwinism, has met this difficulty by assuming that the strug- 
 gle for existence goes on in the embryo between various bio- 
 phors and determinants. This assumption implies that the em- 
 bryo, simple as it appears to the microscope, is in reality ex- 
 ceedingly complex. There must be something in the embryo 
 to correspond to every difference in the adult organism that is 
 the result of heredity. While this hypothesis is not impos- 
 sible, and, indeed has been found useful in some work in plant 
 and animal breeding, it makes heredity extremely complicated. 
 
 De Vries and his followers have suggested a modification of 
 the Darwinian theory. Instead of new species developing from 
 old ones by a slow and gradual accumulation of relatively slight 
 variations, De Vries believes that the change from one species 
 to another, when environmental and internal conditions are fav- 
 orable, takes place in a single generation. Such a variation he 
 calls a mutation. The cause of mutations, however, is left 
 without fundamental explanation, and so this theory does not 
 escape the charge of attributing mutations to chance. 
 
 For these reasons, together with numerous others, Darwinism 
 cannot be claimed to have accounted in a mechanistic way for 
 the teleological features that organisms possess, 21. 
 
 While probably the majority of biologists are to be found 
 among the adherents of Darwinism in its various modified 
 forms, a considerable minority have been led to the acceptance 
 of other positions. The oldest of these is that coming down 
 from Lamarck (tl829). This theory has the advantage of 
 offering explanations for the cause of variations. Variations 
 are due to modifications in organisms caused either by the di- 
 rect action of the environment, or by the activities of the or- 
 ganisms themselves in their use and disuse of parts, the effects 
 being transmitted by heredity to following generations. Log- 
 ical as this theory appears, it has been largely discredited by 
 the inability of its adherents to find conclusive proof of the 
 transmission of such modifications (called "acquired charac- 
 ters") in the manner assumed. While in some respects Lam- 
 arckism, as held today, is mechanistic, in others, such as the 
 attribution of modifications to the activities of organisms 
 themselves, it contains teleological elements. It seems too, like 
 Darwinism, to imply a struggle for existence, on the part of 
 organisms. On the whole, Lamarckism cannot be said to have 
 accounted for the origin of organisms on purely mechanistic 
 liries. 
 
BIOLOGICAL EVOLUTION 325 
 
 Neither Darwinism nor Lamarckism is admittedly teleolog- 
 ical as a scientific method. The teleology in each rests merely 
 in the assumptions on which each is based, as these are dis- 
 closed by philosophical analysis. There are a considerable 
 number of biologists, however, who frankly wish to introduce 
 teleological methods of explanation into the science of biology 
 itself. Chief among these are the Vitalists. The most famous 
 of the vitalists is Professor Hans Driesch, 25, who assumes as 
 the basis of all life, in addition to its physical and chemical 
 elements, a non-energetic immaterial force that controls and 
 directs the development of the organism, which, reviving an 
 expression of Aristotle's, he calls its "entelechy." He has ac- 
 cumulated a considerable mass of experimental evidence in 
 favor of his theory. Pauly, France, and other French biolog- 
 ists find an inner vital force of a psychical character which 
 directs the activities of organisms and their evolution in a tele- 
 ological manner. 
 
 The objection to vitalistic theories, from a scientific stand- 
 point, is the vagueness and indefiniteness of the vital principle 
 assumed ; such conceptions as 'entelechy,' 'vital force,' and 'vital 
 impetus,' it is urged by mechanists, cannot be tested experi- 
 mentally, and so they are not good tools for investigation. Al- 
 though Darwinism and other mechanistic theories have not yet 
 accounted for all the facts of life, they are at least clear and 
 definite, and capable of experimental proof or disproof. How- 
 ever, it should be remembered that radically new theories that 
 had appeared vague and indefinite at the outset have some times, 
 in the later history of science, proved to be right, and with 
 further development have become scientifically workable ; while 
 theories that had appeared clear cut and definite, but which 
 were so because they left out some of the facts, have later been 
 repudiated. The Copernican system of astronomy at first was 
 vague and indefinite ; the Ptolemaic system at that time was far 
 more clear cut, definite, and scientifically workable, though it 
 had become extremely complicated, and had to ignore .some 
 facts. In like manner, the doctrine of evolution appeared vis- 
 ionary to most biologists of the generation of Lamarck ; care- 
 ful, hard-headed scientists then believed in the fixity and immut- 
 ability of species, and their immediate creation. It may be 
 that vitalism, like heliocentricism and evolutionism, will some- 
 time become scientifically workable, and will overthrow mech- 
 anism, which is now becoming more and more complicated, and 
 
826 MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 which, as we have seen, has to ignore some aspects of the organ- 
 ism. The burden of proof, however, is on the side of vitalism ; 
 and it must be remembered that it is the exception and not the 
 rule that theories that began by being vague and visionary 
 have proved later on to be right. 
 
 V Psychology 
 
 As our Martian visitor considers the history of the evolution 
 of our planet, he will be impressed not only with the emergence 
 of living beings in an environment of inorganic matter, but 
 also with the development among these living beings of con- 
 sciousness. Animals not only adjust themselves in more ways 
 to the changing characteristics of their environment than do 
 plants, but higher animals, at least, seem somehow to be con- 
 scious of this environment, to receive sensations due to exter- 
 nal stimuli, and in response to make appropriate reactions for 
 their own self preservation and welfare. Their ability to do 
 this is of course owing to the fact that they have nervous sys- 
 tems* Mechanistic psychologists make much of the depend- 
 ence of consciousness upon the brain and nervous system ; if 
 parts of the brain or nervous system are injured the particular 
 conscious processes dependent upon these parts are affected ; 
 consciousness receives no information from the outer world ex- 
 cept through nervous action; if consciousness could initiate 
 movements at all, it would only be able to do so through nerv- 
 ous action. They therefore urge that it is unlikely that con- 
 sciousness initiates movements at all. Adjustments to external 
 stimuli are effected simply through the action of the central 
 nervous system itself; consciousness not being physical and be- 
 ing devoid of energy in the physical sense, really effects no 
 changes in the molecules of the brain and nervous system. 
 
 This view was anticipated by Huxley (1*1895) who said: 
 "It seems to me that in men, as in brutes, there is no proof that 
 any state of consciousness is the cause of change in the motion 
 of the matter of the organism." Consciousness is as devoid 
 of influence upon the movement of particles in the brain, as is 
 the steam whistle which accompanies the working of a locomo- 
 tive engine upon its machinery. "The soul stands related to 
 the body as the bell of a clock to the works, and consciousness 
 answers to the sound which the bell gives when it is struck, 26. 
 Certain of the more extremely mechanistic psychologists even 
 question whether such a thing as consciousness exists at all, 27 ; 
 
PSYCHOLOGY 327 
 
 at any rate, to be thoroughly objective and scientific, they say, 
 psychology must merely note and explain in terms of nervous 
 action the behavior of animal and human organisms in their 
 physical environment. Psychology is thus really a branch 
 of physiology, differing from the latter chiefly by the fact 
 that it is concerned with the reactions of organisms to stimuli 
 external to their bodies rather than with reactions due to in- 
 ternal stimuli, 28. 
 
 That there is room for the study of human and animal be- 
 havior in terms of nervous action cannot be questioned, nor 
 that this has already been of great service in our understand- 
 ing of human nature and of our relation to the world in which 
 we live. That this science can proceed along purely mechan- 
 istic lines is, however, open to question : if organisms reveal the 
 whole and part relation, the struggle for existence, and inde- 
 finite adaptability to varying conditions, the science of be- 
 havior cannot well ignore the fact that nervous reflexes are 
 somewhat teleological in their behavior. 
 
 Those who maintain that consciousness is a merely superflu- 
 ous concomitant of nervous action are perplexed by the ques- 
 tion, "If this be true, why does consciousness exist at all? If 
 consciousness performs no function in the adjustment of the 
 organism to its environment, how explain its appearance and 
 its evolution?" Some form of awareness of external objects 
 appears very low in the animal kingdom ; from these crude be- 
 ginnings, parallel to the increasing complexity of the nervous 
 system higher forms of consciousness make their appearance. 
 Finally, man arises, with power not only to receive sense stim- 
 ulations from objects about him, and to perceive these objects 
 with their various characteristics of size, shape, color, odor, 
 sound, temperature and taste, but also to recall these objects 
 in memory, to construct different objects in imagination, to 
 compare them with one another, giving names to those that are 
 similar, and classifying them in concepts, to make judgments 
 about their nature, to make inferences regarding their future 
 condition, and to conclude how to govern his own conduct ac- 
 cordingly. It would certainly appear that consciousness must 
 fill some function in the economy of the organism ; whatever its 
 relation to the nervous system may be, it must perform an es- 
 sential part. 
 
 If it be admitted that consciousness does perform some es^ 
 sential part, this latter may be variously conceived. Boldest 
 
328 MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 of all hypotheses, perhaps, is that of Professor Henri Bergson. 
 He has shown that the facts of aphasia and other brain diseases 
 that have often been supposed to indicate the dependence of 
 consciousness upon the nervous system, may, in full recogni- 
 tion of all the known facts, be interpreted in the opposite fash- 
 ion. Far from being their product, consciousness is the creator 
 of the brain and nervous system, 29. Scarcely less radical is 
 the doctrine of Professor William McDougall, that the soul 
 exists in the organism in comparative independence of the body, 
 and that many facts, even in physiological psychology, such 
 as the passage of nerve currents over the synapses and the 
 co-ordination of the two eyes, can only be attributed to its 
 assistance, whereas much of the higher thought processes, like 
 memory, imagination, reasoning, and volition, are chiefly due 
 to the soul, 30. Such theories as these advanced by Professor 
 Bergson and Professor McDougall are comparable to vitalistic 
 theories in biology; they assume that a non-physical principle 
 is in interaction with the body, and they maintain that this 
 principle must be introduced into scientific explanations. 
 
 Without committing themselves to the position that the mind 
 or soul or consciousness is an independent entity of some sort 
 in interaction with brain tissues, the "functional psycholog- 
 ists" maintain that consciousness has evolved to assist in the 
 self-maintenance of the organism, and that the various con- 
 scious processes must be interpreted from this standpoint, 31. 
 The most logical attempt to distinguish the mechanistic and 
 teleological methods in psychology, and make use of them both, 
 of which the author knows, is that made by Hugo Miinsterberg 
 32, who believes that psychology has the double task of ex- 
 plaining mental states causally, with references to the states 
 that preceded them and the processes going on in the nervous 
 system, and of endeavoring to understand their meaning and 
 purpose, which alone have value and significance. Both tasks 
 are valuable and necessary, but purposive psychology is the 
 profounder of the two. Indeed, the mental processes of sen- 
 sation, perception, and the rest are merely scientific construc- 
 tions into which psychologists have artificially arranged the 
 facts of consciousness for purposes of calculation. In reality 
 the will is free, and not subject to the laws of causal determin- 
 ation which are its creation. Such a view is profoundly tele- 
 ological. The same is true of Professor Mary W. Calkins' 
 "double standpoint" in psychology, which, though recognizing 
 
329 
 
 a place for a psychology with the standpoint of analysis, makes 
 this subordinate to the psychology developed from the stand- 
 point of the self. The self is basic for the understanding of 
 mental life, 33. 
 
 We therefore conclude that psychologists, like the scientists 
 that study physical nature in its inorganic and organic forms, 
 are compelled to make a choice. They must decide between a 
 purely mechanistic treatment that will leave out many facts, 
 but will afford definiteness and precision in the use of labora- 
 tory methods, and a treatment, at least in part teleological, 
 that will be more concrete and inclusive. 
 
 Our Martian visitor will conclude that mechanism is every- 
 where a useful, but only a partial explanation of the evolution 
 of things upon the Earth. It explains many facts and gives 
 admirable control over them. But only a teleological account 
 can suggest to us why the happy combination of elements most 
 favorable to life existed before there was life ; why organisms 
 with whole and part organisations appeared, and have been able, 
 whether through natural selection or in some other way, to at- 
 tain their present state of development ; and why there finally 
 evolved such a being as man, with his memory and reason, able 
 to govern his present conduct by considerations of the future, 
 and, through agriculture and industry, largely to modify the 
 conditions of his environment, so as better to satisfy his 
 needs. Such a continuity of development could not have taken 
 place as a result of the action of blind and mechanical forces 
 exclusively. 
 
 VI Teleology and Dysteleology 
 
 If our Martian visitor needed further confirmation of the 
 claim that there has been a teleological factor in evolution, he 
 could review the history of man since he has appeared upon the 
 earth. By means of his intelligence man has progressed con- 
 stantly in his comprehension of, and mastery over the physical 
 conditions by which he has been surrounded. To be sure, his 
 civilization has been influenced by geographical conditions ; 
 nations who have lived on peninsulas or islands with scant areas 
 but good natural harbors, such as the Greeks and the English, 
 have in some respect developed differently from nations like the 
 Americans and Russians, who made settlements on the edges of 
 vast prairies and steppes behind slowly advancing frontiers. 
 But, far from being the mere products of physical and econo- 
 
380 MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 mic conditions, progressive nations have always studied these 
 conditions, and advanced by means of them, and often appar- 
 ently in spite of them. In the first Part of this book we have 
 observed some features of the remarkable evolution that has 
 taken place in religion. Not less instructive is the history of 
 the evolution of human social organization, of morality, of law 
 and government, of the arts and sciences. To be sure, evolu- 
 tion in these different fields has not everywhere been equally 
 rapid, and some races have not contributed to any of its phases 
 at all, while none have advanced equally far in them all. The 
 general tendency, however, has been for the results of progress 
 that has taken place anywhere to be contributed ultimately to 
 the other nations of the civilized world, and in our generation 
 all peoples either have in some measure become civilized, or 
 seem assured of an ultimate share in the benefits of civilization. 
 
 To be sure, there are difficulties in a teleological interpreta- 
 tion of evolution. There are many facts that do not appear 
 to us to harmonize with any purposeful process. Take the 
 physical conditions on the earth's surface. We have seen that 
 they were marvelously favorable for the appearance of life, 
 in comparison with other conditions that can be imagined. But 
 can we not think of arrangements that would have been better 
 still? There are large areas which are very poorly adapted 
 for life the polar regions, the deserts, the vast mountain sys- 
 tems. It would seem that a planet might have been possible, 
 in accordance with physical and chemical laws, in which there 
 would not have been so many unfavorable environments. And 
 consider organisms themselves. In spite of their whole and 
 part relations, they contain many imperfect arrangements. 
 The human eye, as Helmholtz pointed out, is a crude instru- 
 ment, packed with mistakes ; while the vermiform appendix is 
 a positive death trap, that man would be better off if it were 
 not a part of his body at all ! The suctorial organ of the bed 
 bug, which is said to be a real wonder of technics, perhaps is 
 better adapted for its purpose than most organs in the human 
 body. Are vermin a necessary part of the teleology of nature? 
 
 The process of organic evolution contains many forbidding 
 aspects. There has everywhere been a fierce struggle for ex- 
 istence; most living beings perish before their time, many as 
 food for others. If there is a purposiveness in evolution, it is 
 certainly chiefly concerned with the development of species, and 
 careless of individual lives. But even species have often sue- 
 
DYSTELEOLOGY 331 
 
 cumbed. Palaeontology is chiefly a history of bygone species 
 that put up gallant struggles and long ago perished. If the 
 history of the evolution of organisms has been, as Bergson sup- 
 poses, the story of the struggle of the vital impulse to produce 
 higher forms of life, this struggle upward has been blocked in 
 all of the various directions in which it started, with the excep- 
 tion of man, and even in him, valuable goods have been lost, 
 and intuition had to be almost completely sacrificed to intellect. 
 Human history reveals progress to us, and this appears to us 
 teleological. But this is in some measure because history has 
 been written from the side of the victors. How would history 
 appear if written, not from the standpoint of Jews, but of 
 Canaanites, not of Greeks, but of the earlier stocks whom they 
 enslaved, not of Romans but of Carthaginians, not of Amer- 
 ican white men, but of the Indians ? Countless noble races and 
 worthy movements have been crushed in human history can 
 we call this teleological? And what of earthquakes, pestil- 
 ences, famines, and wars? And think of all the misery and 
 suffering we see in the world today among good and innocent 
 people ! How many a youth or maiden, dear to parents, friends, 
 and lover, has died prematurely ! How many a young mother 
 has been snatched from her babes, how many a father lost to 
 his young family when most they need his protection and sup- 
 port! 
 
 That there is much evil in the world it is impossible to deny. 
 But, notwithstanding the evil in it, the world order as a whole 
 indicates preponderant purposiveness. The earth has shown 
 itself well, though not perfectly, adapted to the evolution of 
 life ; organisms do have the whole and part relation, and other 
 teleological features ; not only is it true that those animal 
 species have always survived that were physically fittest to fight 
 in the struggle for existence, but also that the survivors have 
 usually been the ones morally best fitted to leave descendants 
 that would rise higher in the scale; those human races and in- 
 dividuals have been successful as a rule who had most to con- 
 tribute to civilizations in their own time and to the progress 
 of succeeding generations. Exceptions must not blind us to 
 the general tendency ; and the general tendency is clearly tele- 
 ological. To be sure, the exceptions must, in a philosophical 
 study be taken into account. There are various possible ex- 
 planations. Which particular one the reader will prefer will 
 largely depend on what particular conception of God he finds 
 
332 MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 most convincing ; and accordingly consideration of the problem 
 of evil will be postponed until the next chapter. 
 
 VII What Does the World Purpose Include? 
 
 Thus far in this chapter the nature of the purposes to be 
 attributed to the world order has not been definitely consid- 
 ered. If the world and the process of evolution are purposive, 
 what are the purposes at which they are aiming? Is it pos- 
 sible to answer this question? Only, of course, in part. We 
 can follow the general course of evolution down till now, but 
 we do not know what the future progress of man upon this 
 earth will be. We do not know what processes of development 
 are going on in other planets. And we do not know in what 
 manner the achievements which man has made on the earth will 
 be conserved after the planet shall have grown cold, and all life 
 upon it become extinct. 
 
 This much, however, we can say. If the evolution of our 
 earth and of its inhabitants has been teleological, man has been 
 the most important part of this evolution. Man has advanced 
 immeasurably beyond any of his brute competitors. This sup- 
 erior advance of man has been due to his reason, which marks 
 him off from the animals. Aristotle was right in finding that 
 the highest excellence of man consists in the exercise of his 
 reason. So the production and further development of a ra- 
 tional being, able to interpret the world order, must be one of 
 the important ends that is being carried out in this particular 
 part of the universe. Again, the principal valuation which man 
 is able to place upon his fellows is expressed by the moral 
 criterion, good and bad. Kant may have overstated the case 
 when he asserted that the only thing of absolute value in the 
 world is a good will, or a good character. But such surely is 
 the most important good of which we know. 
 
 To give an account of what goodness is, as thus conceived 
 to be the most valuable thing about man and hence one of the 
 ends of the universe, would necessitate a treatise on ethics. But 
 in a few pages it will be possible to indicate certain of the di- 
 rections in which goodness has thus far been developing among 
 human beings on this planet. 
 
 Among the least developed races of mankind are often found 
 some of the simple virtues some degree at least of truth tell- 
 ing, hospitality, marital fidelity and respect for property rights. 
 There is no organized authority to enforce these and whatever 
 
THE WORLD PURPOSE 
 
 other duties and rights are recognized by tradition and custom, 
 and violations are punished by the vengeance which their in- 
 stinctive anger prompts those who are injured to seek. Among 
 races a little higher developed the clan appears with a loosely 
 defined organization of families. A man's relatives begin to 
 resent an injury done him, and to assist him in seeking ven- 
 geance. To preserve order between warring families, as well 
 as to prevent sacral offenses thought to menace the clan as a 
 whole, some organized executive and judicial authority makes 
 its appearance. Thus far, social organization is based chiefly 
 on family ties, real or legendary. 
 
 But, as increased population, improvement in the use of 
 weapons, and other motives, incite to more frequent warfare, 
 the centralized authority of the war chief becomes that of an 
 hereditary king, and in due course, the various social classes 
 of royalty, nobility, commons, and serfs or slaves become dif- 
 ferentiated. Private property increases and the cleavage be- 
 tween rich and poor appears. Regularly established courts and 
 judges and written laws come in; priests, liturgies, temples, 
 medicine men, magic further develop; and possibly the begin- 
 nings of science, or at least better industrial processes are 
 found. Later on one kingdom proves constantly victorious in 
 war, subjugates its neighbors, and evolves into a great empire. 
 Under this empire commerce and culture extend through the 
 wide areas that have been brought under a common rule. While 
 the authority of conquerors first rests on brute force, soon this 
 force is likely to become transmuted into some sort of author- 
 ity, resting at first chiefly on religious teachings like the divine 
 right of the king and the duty of obedience to him as the rep- 
 resentative of the gods ; but later, as his rule proves to be of 
 actual benefit to his subjects, the authority of the kingly gov- 
 ernment rests on more clearly moral ground. Ultimately 
 either through revolutions or through gradual evolution, gov- 
 ernment passes into the hands of the people, and the moral 
 rights and duties of citizens become recognized in the manner 
 in which we conceive them in modern democratic states. 
 
 In the early stages moral rights and duties are chiefly ap- 
 plicable only within the local group ; strangers have few rights. 
 Later, all of one's nation are recognized to have both moral 
 and legal claims upon one, but other nations are still held in 
 low esteem; as is illustrated by the attitude of ancient Jews to 
 Gentiles, of ancient Greeks to Barbarians. In the ancient 
 
334 MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 A 
 
 world, however, with the rise of the world empires of Alexander 
 and the Romans all men came to be regarded as equal in moral 
 and legal rights, and Stoics and Christians alike proclaimed 
 the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man. In the 
 modern world, in part as a result of our heritage of Stoic and 
 Christian teaching, no doubt, moral obligations are theoreti- 
 cally believed to hold between all human beings of all nations, 
 and the various peoples of the modern world are struggling 
 to work out conceptions of world citizenship, and to find some 
 device, like a league or association of nations, that will prove 
 capable of enforcing these ideals. 
 
 Such have been some of the general features in the course 
 of the moral evolution that has taken place among men. Its 
 threads are intertwined with the threads of the development of 
 social organization, government, law, industry, religion, and 
 philosophy, all of which morality has influenced, and by all of 
 which it has been influenced. Moral evolution has progressed 
 by no means along a straight course; it has followed devious 
 windings and turnings. At some times and in some respects 
 ethical conceptions have been in the lead of actual conduct, in 
 other periods and in other ways men have often practised bet- 
 ter than they have preached. Only when we survey the course 
 of moral evolution over long periods, say a thousands years at 
 a time, are we assured that advance has been real. But no reas- 
 onable man can hesitate to say that both in theory and practice 
 ancient Hebrews, Greeks and Romans were far in advance, both 
 of savages and of the ancient civilizations such as those of 
 Egypt and Babylonia, that preceded them. And there is no 
 doubt that modern civilized nations have advanced further still. 
 
 To reduce the course of moral evolution to an adequate for- 
 mula is difficult, perhaps impossible. That there has been gen- 
 uine progress, the author believes, can be made clear if the 
 history of moral development is tested by any of the standards 
 most favored by writers of ethics, such as increase of happi- 
 ness, the perfection of character, self-realization, the promo- 
 tion of all values, and the like. An excellent summary is that 
 given by Professor L. T. Hobhouse, from whose Morals in Evo- 
 lution, most of the details in the foregoing account have been 
 derived : "If, then, the whole course of history, or say, rather 
 physical, biological, and social evolution, is to be summed up 
 in this that it is a process wherein mind grows from the hum- 
 blest of beginnings to an adult vigor, in which it can as in 
 
THE WORLD PURPOSE 335 
 
 the creed of humanity it does conceive the idea of directing 
 its own course, mastering the conditions external and internal 
 of its exercise, if this is a true account of evolution and it is 
 the account to which positive science points then we cannot say 
 that this is a mean and unimportant feature of reality that is 
 disclosed to us. We can hardly suppose such a process acci- 
 dental or quite peculiar to the conditions of this earth. At any 
 rate, as far as the widest synthesis of our experience goes, it 
 shows us Reality as the movement towards self-realization of a 
 mind appearing under rigidly limited conditions of physical 
 organization in countless organisms, and aiming for the first 
 time at a partial unity in the consciousness of a common hu- 
 manity with a common aim," 34. 
 
 Other writers on comparative ethics have indicated other 
 aspects of moral evolution. Though Professor Edward Weste- 
 marck's great work is centered more upon the beginnings of 
 moral development than its outcome in the higher civilizations, 
 he indicates the manner in which the altruistic sentiment has 
 widened and deepened ; and he assures us of the certainty in light 
 of the laws of moral evolution derived from a study of the past, 
 that altruism will continue to expand and that the notion of 
 human brotherhood will receive increased support from the 
 actual feelings of mankind, 35. 
 
 Professor Alexander Sutherland has impressively traced the 
 evolution of the moral sentiment down from the maternal in- 
 stinct in animals to its heightened development at the present 
 time, 36. Professor William McDougall has indicated the psy- 
 chology of the process by which, in the human being, the in- 
 stincts and emotions which he has in common with the higher 
 animals have become organized, directed and controlled in sen- 
 timents, and how these sentiments come to constitute a self, 
 which in the best men at least, is actuated by the ideal of a 
 perfected or completely moral life, 37. 
 
 The accounts of the historians of morality make it clear that 
 there has been a gradual evolution of human beings with impul- 
 ses to mutual helpfulness and service and the attainment of a 
 common humanity, in which each individual seeks the good of the 
 whole, and in which the welfare of each individual is conserved by 
 society as a whole. Of course this outcome has by no means been 
 fully achieved ; the horrors of the great war painfully indicate 
 the present moral imperfections of man ; but in theory and in 
 practice, as the ages pass, it is coming about. This, then, is 
 
33G MECHANISM AND TELEOLOGY 
 
 one of the ends of the universe the evolution of moral beings 
 upon the earth. To this extent we may therefore say that this 
 iii a moral universe, that is, it is a universe that recognizes and 
 seeks to achieve moral ends. A teleological universe must be 
 a moral universe. The reader should take notice of this con- 
 clusion. Much follows from it. We may conclude with reason- 
 able probability that such a universe as ours, since it is a tele- 
 ological universe in which purposes are achieved, and a moral 
 universe in which moral values are appreciated and realized, 
 is a universe that includes morality in its ultimate ends and 
 purposes. In such a universe we have ground to hope that 
 whatever is just and morally desirable will ultimately come to 
 pass. Several important arguments regarding God and im- 
 mortality which we shall study in the following chapters rest 
 on the assumption that this is a moral universe, an assump- 
 tion which, while admittedly by no means demonstrated, appears 
 to be based on reasonable probability. 
 
 Are there not other purposes in the evolution of man besides 
 the attainment of moral ends? Well, it should be understood 
 that "moral ends" and "moral purposes," as the terms are used 
 by the author, are not intended merely to include the fulfilment 
 of duty (to which rigorists in ethics like Kant largely restrict 
 morality, a fact that tends to make morality often sound harsh 
 to popular ears today) but also to include all that makes for 
 a larger and fuller life, for the perfection of man on all sides 
 of his nature, in other words the Greek conception at its best, 
 but broadened to include the love of all mankind within its 
 scope. The moral ideal ought to include the development of 
 beautiful souls joined to beautiful bodies, and consecrated to 
 the search for all forms of the true, the good and the beautiful. 
 The end of human evolution, in other words, should be under- 
 stood to imply the development of humanity in all its valuable 
 aspects. Whether we call all of these aspects moral, or 
 whether to moral values more narrowly conceived, we add values 
 of truth and beauty, is largely a matter of definition. At any 
 rate, the author hopes that the reader is convinced that the 
 weight of probability inclines to the conclusion that we are liv- 
 ing in a universe that is both teleological and moral, and that 
 includes within its scope the highest advancement of human- 
 ity, 88. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 *FUIEDRICH PATTLSEN, Introduction to Philosophy, Book I, Chap. II. 
 
 *E. C. WILM, Problem of Religion, Chapters III, IV. 
 
REFERENCES 337 
 
 *DtrnAtrr D3AKE, Problems of Religion, Chap. XIX. 
 *J. A. THOMSON, Bible of Nature. 
 *PATRICK GEDDES and J. A. THOMSON, Evolution. 
 *S. HEnnrRT, First Principles of Evolution. 
 'WILLIAM PATTEN, The Grand Strategy of Evolution. 
 HENRI BEROSON, Creative Evolution. Matter and Memory. 
 J. S. HALDANE, Mechanism, Life and Personality. Organism and En- 
 vironment. Articles in Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, N. S., 
 Vol. 18, pp. 419-436. 
 
 LAWRENCE J. HENDERSON, Fitness of the Environment. Order of Nature, 
 especially Chap. X. Articles in Philosophical Review, Vols. XXV and 
 XXVII. 
 
 *C. LLOYD MORGAN, Instinct and Experience. 
 V. L. KELLOGG, Darwinism To-day. 
 
 JACQUES LOEB, The Organism as a Whole, From a Psychic-Chemical 
 Standpoint. The Mechanistic Conception of Life. 
 
 HANS DRIESCH, The Science and Philosophy of the Organism. 
 L. T. HOBHOUSE, Development and Purpose. Mind in Evolution. 
 Morals in Evolution. 
 
 A. S. PRINGLE-PATTISON, The Idea of God in the Light of Recent 
 Philosophy, Chaps. Ill, IV. 
 
 JAMES WARD, The Realm of Ends, especially Chap. V. 
 R. F. ALFRED HOERNLE, Studies in Contemporary Metaphysics, especially 
 Chapters VI, VII. 
 
 JOHN BROADUS WATSON, Behavior, especially Chapter I. 
 WILLIAM McDouGALL, Body and Mind. 
 HUGO MUNSTEIIBERG, Psychology, General and Applied. 
 H. S. JENNINGS, The Behavior of Loroer Organisms. 
 BENJAMIN MOORE, The Origin and Nature of Life. 
 G. H. HOWISON, The Limits of Evolution. 
 HERBERT SPENCER, First Principles. 
 
 *JOHN FISKE, The Destiny of Man. Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy. 
 See also the other references given in the NOTES to this Chapter. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 WE are now ready to face the central questions in the whole 
 philosophy of religion, those concerning the existence and nat- 
 ture of God. If it can be shown to be reasonably probable 
 that there exists a God who favors the ultimate triumph of 
 moral values, the philosophical study in which we have been 
 engaged can be brought to largely affirmative conclusions 
 regarding the truth and worth of religion. But if the 
 weight of probability should prove to be unfavorable, or to 
 be so slight as to warrant no conclusions, the outcome would 
 be quite different. Religions, to be sure, are possible that do 
 not affirm belief in a God; outlines of such beliefs have been 
 seriously advanced in our own time, 1. But the scope of con- 
 fidence that man can gain, either in himself or in the universe, 
 through such religions, is restricted. If the preponderance of 
 evidence for the existence of God appears fairly strong, it will 
 not be necessary to enter into a consideration of such religions. 
 It will in that case be enough, within the limits of this volume, 
 to trace in later chapters some of the consequences that follow 
 from acceptance of God. 
 
 I The Conception of God is Symbolical and Anthropomorphic 
 Before proceeding further, one point needs to be made clear. 
 If there be a God, all human conceptions of Him must be re- 
 garded as symbolical, not as exactly representative of Him. 
 Even if one thinks of a simple class concept, like 'man,' 'dog,' 
 'house,' it is quite impossible to call to consciousness at any 
 moment all that the word means to one. Psychologists say that 
 what any one does under such circumstances is to recall some 
 bit of sensuous imagery, which serves to represent or symbolize 
 what the idea means. Still less is it possible to form adequate 
 representations in our minds at any time of what we mean by 
 'liberty,' 'justice,' 'science,' 'democracy.' To arouse patriot- 
 ism nations find it necessary to adopt flags. A flag is a symbol. 
 Taken literally a national flag is only a bit of brightly colored 
 
 338 
 
SYMBOLISM 339 
 
 bunting; but vast libraries of history and constitutional law 
 only imperfectly express what the flag symbolizes. No scholar, 
 however learned, at any instant can recall everything that his 
 country means to him. In times of emergency, he, like the plain 
 man, must give his devotion to the Flag. Of course we believe 
 that there are real values that the flag symbolizes ; we believe 
 in our constitution and in the values that it assures to us. Men 
 would not die for the flag if they did not treasure these values. 
 But it usually suffices to think of the flag, and not of the values 
 themselves. 
 
 In the sciences symbols are used in a different way. Here 
 the appeal is not to sentiment, but to reflection. It is neces- 
 sary to find some effective manner of symbolizing experimental 
 data, and getting control over them for future investigation. 
 The atom and the electron are such symbols. Nobody ever 
 saw them, or ever will see them. They serve for the purposes 
 of the exact sciences at the present time, but no thoughtful 
 scientist doubts that these conceptions will be greatly amplified 
 and corrected with the further advance of knowledge. 
 
 The conception of God is symbolical in both of these respects. 
 As used in religious worship, it serves to center men's devotion 
 upon a Being with whom men can feel themselves in sympathy. 
 The God of Judaism and Christianity is thought of as Father 
 a term full of tender suggestiveness. Any one who reflects 
 upon the matter will realize, however, that the conception is 
 not meant to be taken literally. The imagery of Father is 
 merely intended to bring into the worshipper's consciousness 
 the sentiments which he ought to feel toward God. The use of 
 such a symbol is justifiable if there really is a Being toward 
 whom man ought to feel such sentiments as a child feels toward 
 his father ; otherwise not. As used in philosophy, the concep- 
 tion of God is employed, not for purposes of sentiment and 
 devotion, but in the endeavor to understand the universe, and 
 man's relation to it. The symbols of physics are justifiable, 
 because through them man is enabled to some extent to under- 
 stand and control physical conditions. The symbol of God is 
 justifiable in philosophy, provided that through it man is bet- 
 ter able to understand and to adapt himself to the world in 
 which he lives ; otherwise not. 
 
 Let no one be concerned if he is told that the notion of God 
 is anthropomorphic, i. e., that in this conception man has pro- 
 jected a representation of himself. Of course the notion is an- 
 
340 EVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 thropomorphic. So is the theory of atoms, for that matter, 
 so are other scientific conceptions. In such concepts as the 
 atom, the ether and the electron, scientists have imagined some- 
 thing existing in the civ^rnal world that corresponds to some 
 of the characteristics of human sensations of pressure, strain, 
 and resistance. In the conception of God, man has imagined 
 something in reality corresponding to certain characteristics 
 of human personality. The physical scientist is right in his 
 anthropomorphism because of his successful employment of his 
 symbols in his investigations. Can the philosopher of religion 
 show that the symbol of God is successful in the interpretation 
 of the world and of human experience? If so, his anthropo- 
 morphism is also justified. Anthropomorphism is only wrong 
 when it leads to erroneous consequences. The crude forms of 
 early Hebrew anthropomorphism, which pictured God as tak- 
 ing a walk in a garden in the cool of the day, and as absurdly 
 given to fits of anger and jealousy led to erroneous conse- 
 quences. Still, the early Hebrew notion of God was probably 
 as workable as any notion that existed in the natural science 
 of that time, or for long afterward. It is no more reasonable 
 to condemn present ideas of God on the ground of their anthro- 
 pomorphism, or because they were preceded in earlier ages by 
 cruder anthropomorphisms, than it would be to condemn pres- 
 ent scientific conceptions for similar reasons. 
 
 II Arguments for the Existence of God 
 
 Before discussing arguments for the existence of God, let 
 us first be clear in our minds precisely what needs to be estab- 
 lished. What is meant by God? An exact definition of God is 
 obviously impossible. Human knowledge is too restricted for 
 that. The motive of this section of the present chapter is much 
 more modest. It is to seek a reply to the following problem : 
 "Is there sufficient evidence to render reasonably probable the 
 existence of a Being of such a nature that the evolution of 
 religions, which we studied in Part I, and the types of religious 
 experience, which we studied in Part II, may be regarded as 
 something more than merely subjective delusions? Is it likely 
 that through such religions and in such types of experience 
 men have, however imperfectly, come into touch with a Being 
 who exists, not merely as an Alter in human consciousness, but 
 in Reality?" 
 
 As we saw in Chapter XVI, such a Being may be regarded 
 
TELEOLOGY 
 
 either as an external or as an immanent God. In considering 
 the evidence for the existence of God in this chapter, argu- 
 ments that favor either or both of these conceptions will be 
 presented. Not until we come to consider the nature of God 
 in the following chapter will it be necessary to discriminate 
 between them. 
 
 1 Teleological and Evolutionary Arguments 
 
 As the preceding chapter will have suggested, the author 
 regards the strongest argument for the existence of God to be 
 the teleological argument. If the evidence in that chapter con- 
 vinced the reader that the weight of probability inclines in 
 favor of a teleological and a moral universe, included among 
 whose purposes is the development of man as a moral being, 
 he ought to find little difficulty with the question of the exist- 
 ence of God. That there is a God of some sort seems almost 
 an inevitable consequence of believing that the world order is 
 purposive in its development. For, wherever we see the evi- 
 dences of purpose, we are inclined to assume a purposer. If 
 the world order is purposive, this seems to imply a world Pur- 
 poser. This does not necessarily mean that the world has had 
 a Creator ; it is not necessary to believe that there ever was a 
 time when there was no world, and that God afterwards made 
 the world out of chaos, or out of nothing. So far as the argu- 
 ment of the book has yet proceeded, the reader is free to accept 
 or reject the doctrine of Creation. The teleological evidence 
 merely indicates the probable existence of a Mind that is, at 
 least in considerable measure, in control of the world process 
 enough so to account for the amount of teleology apparent in it. 
 
 The only alternative to the acceptance of some sort of God 
 would be to say that the world process is only blindly teleolog- 
 ical, not consciously so. Let us imagine an advocate of this 
 alternative speaking. "Plants are teleological to a limited ex- 
 tent ; the fact that they are unconscious does not prevent them 
 from being teleological, though they are quite unaware of the 
 fact. Much of the teleology in animals, and, for that matter, 
 in our own bodies also, goes on without the aid of conscious- 
 ness. Suppose, then, that we admit that the evolution of the 
 various forms of plant and animal species has been purposive; 
 need we assume the presence in this evolution of a Mind, of 
 any being that in any sense could be called God? And still less 
 do we need to assume consciousness of any sort to have been 
 
342 EVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 present in the earth before the appearance of life, although 
 some sort of teleology was present in the fitness of the environ- 
 ment for life. No, the world order may to some extent be tele- 
 ological, but consciousness only appears in animal organisms, 
 and only reaches its highest development so far as we know, in 
 man. Admitting that the world order is teleological, it does 
 not follow that the world as a whole has a Mind." 
 
 It is for the reader to decide which interpretation of tele- 
 ology appears to him the more reasonable. Proof here is im- 
 possible ; we can only select the more probable of the two alter- 
 natives. Let us consider each of them as an interpretation of 
 the world process. (1) If we say that the latter has gone 
 on without a God, we are obliged to assume that inorganic mat- 
 ter itself contains some kind of inherent purposiveness which 
 gives rise to a favorable environment, and later expresses itself 
 in organisms. Organisms become increasingly purposive, in 
 the higher animals a little of this purposiveness becomes con- 
 scious, and, finally man emerges with memory, imagination, and 
 reason. Man accordingly possesses more purposiveness than 
 anything else in the universe of which we have any knowledge. 
 (2) If, taking the other alternative, we assume that the uni- 
 verse as a whole has a Mind, we can say that the general course 
 of the evolution of the earth from start to finish has been the 
 development of the purposes of this Mind. From the earliest 
 gaseous state of the primitive nebula till now, a divine Mind 
 has been operating here, as well as elsewhere, in the universe. 
 The happy combination of elements favorable for the appear- 
 ance of life, the slow and toiling ascent from the lowliest forms 
 until the dawn of reason in man, and the more rapid progress 
 of man in human institutions, have all been the gradual develop- 
 ment of the purposes of an intelligent Mind. Does it appear 
 conceivable that this impressive evolution could have gone on 
 without the guidance of a conscious Mind whose intelligence is 
 immeasurably superior to that of man? 
 
 It would be easy here to introduce rhetorical arguments, to 
 quote poetry, or otherwise to make an emotional or sentimental 
 appeal for the position favored by the author. But that might 
 seem like begging the question or ignoring the issue. Let 
 the reader face the two alternatives and choose for himself. 
 As a matter of pure probability and intrinsic reasonableness, 
 is it not a great deal more thinkable that the evolution of a tele- 
 ological and moral universe has been attended by a conscious 
 
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 343 
 
 Mind than that it has gone on simply of itself without such a 
 Mind? 
 
 The reasoning in Chapter XIII may be regarded as another 
 evolutionary argument for the existence of God. For if the 
 Christian religion can be regarded as most successful of all 
 religions (with the possible exception of the Jewish religion 
 for the Jews themselves, a religion that is at one with Chris- 
 tianity in its belief in a God) in the conservation of values, 
 and if this religion is the present outcome of an evolution in 
 which man has been in constant effort to adjust himself to his 
 environment since primitive times, and if it is probable that 
 the future evolution of religion will be a future evolution of 
 Christianity, then is it not highly probable that the God of 
 Christianity is symbolical of something that really exists in 
 the universe, and is it not highly improbable that the God of 
 Christianity is a mere figment of human fancy? 
 
 2 Arguments Based on Religious Experience 
 
 If the evidence from teleology in favor of a God could re- 
 ceive further support by some other class of evidence, it would 
 be considerably strengthened. Can such evidence be found? 
 Well, if there be a God, who markedly directs the course of 
 evolution toward moral ends, inclusive of man, we should ex- 
 pect men to have become aware of Him from time to time, 
 should we not? 
 
 Abundant assertions of such experiences are to be found in 
 the religious literature of all ages. In Part I, we found a grad- 
 ual evolution in the conceptions of the agency through which 
 spiritual values are conserved, until the Agency became thought 
 of as God. This is empirical evidence of a Being, of which 
 men have believed themselves to be conscious, and this concep- 
 tion has evolved in logical clearness and moral worth with the 
 increasing intelligence of the nations who have had these ex- 
 periences. In Part II we studied types of religious experience 
 from the standpoints of the individuals who underwent them. 
 We found individual human experiences of continuous growth, 
 spontaneous awakenings, conversion, prayer, and mysticism, 
 all of which appear valuable and genuine to those who have 
 undergone them. 
 
 When we consider the great voice of testimony to the ex- 
 perience of God that has come down the ages from men of 
 every race, nation, and religion, and when we consider the mul- 
 
844 EVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 titude of people in every walk of life today who feel comforted 
 and sustained by the presence of God, can we regard this evi- 
 dence as negligible? The fact that adherents of all faiths have 
 had these experiences, is a difficulty only for the man who be- 
 lieves that his religion is the only true one. For the philoso- 
 phical student who believes that there is some degree of truth 
 in every religion, the testimony of one religious worshipper to 
 the blessings that the Christian or Jewish God has vouchsafed 
 him, that of another to his experience of the favors of Allah, 
 and that of a third, that his vocation in life has been revealed 
 to him by Gitchie Manitou, are all affirmative and mutually 
 confirmatory. None of these experiences, of course, is infal- 
 lible, all are to be critically tested; but all contain truth and 
 are imperfect manifestations of an ineffable Being that has 
 been symbolized with varying degrees of accuracy, in all times 
 and in all ages. 
 
 To many of us, no doubt, the empirical argument appears 
 strongest when some one whom we personally know and revere 
 some good man or woman the strength and helpfulness of 
 whose personal character has been a source of moral benefit to 
 us and to others tells us (or better, does not need to tell us) 
 that the experience of God has been the support of his or her 
 life. Every one has known such people, and profoundly re- 
 spected them, and considered it a privilege to have come with- 
 in their influence. Stronger than any reasoned argument, will 
 appear to many the evidence that such lives afford. It cannot 
 be that these people have been deluded that the God who has 
 been the inspiration of their lives, and through their lives, of 
 ours is merely a product of their imaginations ! The truth 
 cannot be less than good people suppose it to be ; for instance, 
 if their horizons are limited, and they have not learned charity 
 to those of different faiths than their own, and each speaks in 
 the language of his own creed, it is not that these creeds are 
 wholly false, but that the God that they seek to interpret is 
 more inclusive than any creed, or all creeds put together, 2. 
 
 3 Moral Arguments 
 
 At the close of the preceding chapter, the conclusion was 
 reached that this is a moral universe, and the reader was warned 
 that important arguments regarding God and immortality rest 
 on this conclusion. Three such arguments for God, two of 
 
MORAL ARGUMENTS 345 
 
 which are also arguments for immortality, now demand our 
 consideration. 
 
 (1) A Moral Universe Implies a God 
 
 If we commend the action of another man as "good," or if 
 we condemn it as "bad," we imply that this man is a conscious 
 being, sane and intelligent, able to pass judgments on what 
 should be done, and to make a choice. To be a moral being, 
 and to be morally responsible, and so to act in a manner that 
 is either morally praiseworthy or blamable, implies conscious- 
 ness, reasoning power, choice, and volition. Insane people and 
 infants are not morally responsible because they lack these 
 qualifications. Still less can we think of animals, plants, or 
 inanimate objects as in any sense moral. 
 
 From this analogy it follows that to the extent that this is 
 a moral universe, that is, a universe aiming at ends which in- 
 clude the development of man as a moral being, it must be a 
 universe that is guided in its course by a Being that is conscious, 
 that is rational, and that wills the ultimate triumph of what is 
 good. To the extent that "moral" as used in its wider sense 
 may be said to include ends of truth and beauty, these too can 
 only be thought to be ends of a universe that is under the guid- 
 ance of such a Being. 
 
 A study of the history of any of the moral achievements of 
 mankind suggests that there must have been in operation the 
 mind and will of a Being greater than men. In any critical 
 period of history, what statesman has fully grasped the mean- 
 ing of what he was doing? What man among the builders of 
 Athens conceived the full significance of what Athens was be- 
 coming and contributing to the world before Thucidydes as 
 an historian, looking backward upon what had been accom- 
 plished, was able to make the brilliant interpretation which he 
 has given us as Pericles' funeral oration? Did Julius Caesar 
 when he crossed the Rubicon, or at any time in his life, or did 
 any of his contemporaries, grasp what the founding of the 
 Roman Empire was to mean to the world? To take illustrations 
 from the history of our own country. How far did Washing- 
 ton understand what the republic he and his contemporaries 
 were struggling to bring into existence was to mean to the 
 world, either during the winter at Valley Forge, or the delib- 
 erations of the Constitutional Convention, or even his admin- 
 
346 EVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 istration as President? When Lincoln, through the darker 
 periods of the Civil War or the brighter ones for that mat- 
 ter was struggling to preserve the union, and to win the 
 freedom of the slaves, did he appreciate the full significance 
 of what he was doing? Perhaps he did when he delivered the 
 Gettysburg address, you say ; but that was after the turning 
 point of the war had passed, 3. Take a more recent illustra- 
 tion. During the course of the Great War, what statesman, 
 especially in the earlier years, was awake to the moral signi- 
 ficance of the conflict? Who has correctly measured it, even 
 now? The moral experience of mankind, though always full 
 of imperfections and inconsistencies, is more profound and 
 more sublime than any of the interpretations that poet, states- 
 man, or scholar are able to formulate. This is true, not only 
 of the morality achieved through war and political movements, 
 but as well of the advances of law, art, literature, science, re- 
 ligion, of all forms of human activity. It is safe to say that 
 neither Raphael nor Michaelangelo, Shakespeare nor Goethe, 
 Darwin nor Pasteur, grasped the full significance of what they 
 were doing. No saint nor theologian has penetrated the depths 
 of religious experience. In all the achievements of human ex- 
 perience, the fathers have built better than they knew. Can we 
 believe that no Intelligence greater than human intelligence 
 has been operative in these developments? Was it possible for 
 mankind in so many fields to develop ends which no individual 
 man at the time but very imperfectly understood? Can we 
 suppose that the purposes of a moral universe are not grasped 
 by any mind in it, until finite minds like ours slowly begin to 
 appreciate these purposes after they have largely been accom- 
 plished? Must we not rather suppose that there has been a 
 divine Mind immanent in the processes by which the achieve- 
 ments of mankind have been accomplished, and that human 
 interpreters of history, law, art, literature, science, and religion 
 are gaming self consciousness of the thoughts of this God? 4. 
 
 (2) The Consciousness of Duty Implies a God 
 
 If we examine what we recognize to be our duty, we realize 
 that it is far more than we are able to accomplish. Nothing 
 short of absolute perfection and holiness is enjoined upon man 
 by the New Testament ; and, apart from all sacred books, every 
 intelligent man who is honest with himself will have to admit 
 that he ought to be absolutely pure and righteous in his every 
 
MORAL ARGUMENTS 317 
 
 thought, word, and deed, and that he ought to make the most 
 of every opportunity that comes his way either to be of service 
 to others or to further his own higher advancement. Yet what 
 man has ever been fully faithful to the duties that he owed 
 himself, to say nothing of the claims of others upon him? And 
 the more conscientious a person is, the more he makes a suc- 
 cess of his vocation in life, the greater and more numerous are 
 the responsibilities that become his, and the more impossible 
 does fulfilment become ! The really good man is, of all men, 
 most painfully aware of his own failures and shortcomings. 
 When, at last, a man's life draws towards its close, and his 
 strength declines, it seems to him that he was only beginning 
 to be able to do his best and accomplish most, and his life to be 
 something of value in the world. In a moral universe, these 
 years of preparation cannot be without meaning for the future. 
 In a moral universe man must be free to do his duty ! How 
 could anything be a duty if one could not perform it! The 
 very fact that an infinite duty confronts man which he is 
 forced to acknowledge is a guarantee that he can perform it. 
 "Du kannst denn du sollst," as Kant said; or in the lines of 
 
 Emerson ; 
 
 "So nigh is grandeur to our dust, 
 
 So near is God to man, 
 When duty whispers low, Thou must, 
 The youth replies, / can." 
 
 But the demands of moral obligation cannot be fulfilled in 
 this life. There must therefore be a future life. However, 
 a future life of limited duration would not answer. In such 
 a life, as one further advanced in efficiency and service, his un- 
 fulfilled duty would still further and further widen out before 
 him. Man must therefore be immortal, and continually pro- 
 gress toward the accomplishment of a duty that as constantly 
 increases. Man has an infinite task to perform, and it will 
 take him all eternity to fulfil it. But such an eternal progress 
 in the direction of an ever receding goal hardly seems to us 
 like accomplishment. It can only be so regarded from the 
 standpoint of an eternal Mind, an intelligence to whom past, 
 present and future are an "everlasting Now." Even to our 
 finite minds, a brief succession of events, lasting a few seconds, 
 appears to take place in a moment, to be now. To an Intel- 
 ligence, who both knows the future and is able to grasp all fu- 
 ture, present, and past events in a single span of time, the 
 
348 EVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 eternal progress of man in the direction of perfect fulfilment 
 of duty would itself be accomplishment. To such a Being, 
 therefore, man would actually succeed in performing his duty. 
 Moreover, such a Being, with an infinite Mind, would see things 
 as they really are. Such an infinite progress would in reality 
 be as it appears to such a Mind, a fulfilment. It is not such a 
 Being, but we, with our limited intelligence, who are deceived 
 by an imperfect understanding of the nature of time. 
 
 Therefore, if moral obligation or duty, really is what it ap- 
 pears to be, a command to be absolutely just and holy, to ac- 
 complish to the full all our possibilities of service, and to real- 
 ize all our capacities to the utmost, it means that man is im- 
 mortal and that there is a God. In the experience of the call 
 of duty man has a precious assurance of endless life and of 
 divine support. A lazy soul might be discouraged at the pros- 
 pect of an endless task, and become pessimistic, but more active 
 spirits must rejoice. For the rewards in life come, not in the 
 mere having of things or the gaining of goals, but in the joy 
 of work and the consciousness of accomplishment. To the right 
 minded man, therefore, there is every reason for joy in the 
 consciousness that his task is infinite, and that in this task he is 
 accomplishing the work that God has given him to do, 5. 
 
 (3) The Happiness Argument 
 
 In a completely moral universe, it would seem that possession 
 of happiness ought to be proportionate to fidelity to duty. 
 Although few persons probably think that considerations of 
 one's personal happiness should serve as the sole standard of 
 duty, almost everyone believes that those who do their duty 
 in life, as faithfully as they can, deserve to be happy. How- 
 ever, no one needs wide experience to be aware that virtuous 
 people often suffer unmerited misfortune of all kinds, while 
 wicked men often undeservedly prosper. It is accordingly 
 urged that there must be a future existence in which the wrongs 
 of this world are righted, and virtue and vice receive their 
 deserts. Moreover, as there is no inevitable necessity that con- 
 nects the attainment of virtue with happiness in this life, the 
 mere continuation of these in another life would not guarantee 
 the ultimate fulfilment of justice. Consequently there must be 
 a God who as Judge, by an act of arbitrary volition ultimately 
 will effect a union between virtue and happiness. Thus an 
 
MORAL ARGUMENTS 349 
 
 argument both for God and a future life are afforded by the 
 consideration of the serious disparity between virtue and hap- 
 piness which we see everywhere about us. 
 
 This argument is offered to the reader for whatever he may 
 think it worth. Frankly speaking, the author does not con- 
 sider it nearly so convincing as either of the other two moral 
 arguments that have been mentioned, neither of which is in 
 any way dependent upon this one. Both of the other argu- 
 ments can be employed either for an external or for an imman- 
 ent God. This argument has weight chiefly with believers in 
 an external God; it would be difficult to state it in terms of 
 divine immanence. This argument, too, suggests less developed 
 ethical rewards to the doers of good. Virtue, it might seem, 
 is its own reward. Moreover, this argument has to assume a 
 completely moral universe. The other arguments which we 
 have considered merely have to maintain that the universe 
 strives toward teleological and moral ends ; they are not neces- 
 sarily committed to the claim that it invariably attains them. 
 There is much in the world that appears contrary to teleology 
 and moral purposiveness. If this is a universe in which good 
 is only gradually coming to prevail, the evils and injustices of 
 the world may be indications that the world is not perfect. 
 
 It must accordingly be confessed that this argument is not 
 without its difficulties. However, it would appear to have co- 
 gency for those who believe that the universe is absolutely, and 
 not merely approximately just, in its constitution such a 
 universe must assuredly be governed by an absolutely powerful 
 and righteous God. It may also be observed that the concep- 
 tion that every action must ultimately be rewarded according 
 to its merits, in a future life if not in this, has appealed to 
 many of the profound moral thinkers of the world. We have 
 seen its expression in the thought of India in the law of Karma. 
 The idea exerted a powerful influence in ancient Egypt, cor- 
 rupted though it was with magical conceptions in the Book of 
 the Dead. Plato maintained the conception, and partly 
 through his influence there passed into Jewish as well as into 
 Christian thought the principle that conduct must be rewarded 
 according to its merits in a future life by the judgment of God. 
 
 In addition to the foregoing arguments for the existence of 
 God, there are other arguments advanced by philosophers of 
 particular schools which have considerable influence. It 
 will of course be impossible to notice all of these arguments, 
 
350 EVIDENCE, OF GOD 
 
 or all of the various schools. The three schools of philosophy 
 that have most influence today, at least in the English speaking 
 world, are the idealists, the pragmatists, and the new realists. 
 
 4s Idealistic Arguments 
 
 It will be impossible to do justice to the idealistic arguments 
 for God in an introductory volume that is not devoted almost 
 exclusively to the exposition of some system of idealism. Cer- 
 tain idealistic arguments can only be hinted at here, and refer- 
 ences given to standard authorities for those who care to read 
 further. 
 
 There are numerous forms of idealism. There are two 
 general types current today, of which most contemporary 
 systems are varieties. These are known as Mentalism and 
 Speculative Idealism. (They are sometimes respectively called 
 "Subjective" and "Objective" Idealism; but these designations 
 are unfair, and tend to create a prejudice in favor of the 
 latter.) 
 
 ( 1 ) Mentalism 
 
 George Berkeley (f!753) in two brilliant youthful essays (6) 
 that remain superior in merit as literature to any other tech- 
 nical philosophical writings in the English language, argued 
 that reality wholly consists of ideas that pass through minds, 
 and of the minds that know these ideas. Wherever you perceive 
 any object, say an apple, you are aware of the apple and of 
 yourself as perceiving it. Modern scientists already had dis- 
 tinguished between the primary qualities that really exist in 
 things such as shape, size, solidity, motion, and number, 
 and secondary qualities like color, sound, odor, taste, and 
 temperature that do not in reality exist in the outer world, 
 but only in our minds. Berkeley showed that the same objec- 
 tions apply to the supposition that the primary qualities exist 
 independent of minds that hold in the case of the secondary 
 qualities. Both kinds of qualities vary at different times, and 
 give rise to illusions. Analyze any object whatever, say an 
 apple, and you will find that it wholly consists of different sen- 
 sations of color, taste, odor, solidity, temperature, etc. It is 
 really mental in its constitution. Now some of our ideas are 
 due to the activity of our own minds, those of fancy such 
 ideas we have created and can alter at will. Other of our ideas 
 those that constitute the outer world of real things, as we 
 
IDEALISM 351 
 
 say, we perceive through our senses, involuntarily. To what 
 cause shall we attribute these involuntary ideas? Are they due 
 to matter, as materialists and atheists say, something that 
 nobody ever perceived? Is it not far more reasonable to attrib- 
 ute our ideas of the external world to a Mind somewhat like 
 our own ? Such ideas are due to something external to our own 
 experience either material or mental. It is more reasonable 
 to attribute them to the known than to the unknown, to another 
 Mind than to matter. And since we all experience a common 
 world, composed of the same objects, the same Mind must be 
 the common cause of all our ideas of the external world. The 
 so-called uniformity of nature is the regular manner in which 
 God imparts the same ideas under the same conditions. There 
 is no matter ; what we call matter is the system of ideas which 
 God imparts to us all in a uniform way. 
 
 This form of idealism, which has possibly been stated a little 
 more consistently than Berkeley put it himself, is now some- 
 times called Mentalism. Those who hold it today usually mod- 
 ify it by accepting Kant's doctrine that the mind in a sense 
 constitutes the objects which it perceives. Modern psychology 
 is claimed to be confirmative of Kant's position on this point. 
 In perceiving any object, the various sensations belong in a 
 whole and constitute an object, and this object is interpreted 
 in the light of past experience. As one looks at an apple across 
 the room one surely perceives it as solid and as having a cer- 
 tain taste, as if he were actually handling and tasting it; his 
 mind interprets his sensations of vision in the light of his past 
 experience, and this interpretation is part of the immediate 
 perception of an object. 
 
 In like manner every object of the outer world that we ex- 
 perience has been made an object by the construction of our 
 minds. But not of our minds only. We live in a social world. 
 Other persons experience the same objects as we. If two per- 
 sons dispute about the nature of an object, they are not dis- 
 puting about their own personal, subjective impressions about 
 the object, they are disputing about what they think that the 
 object really is. So we evidently live in a common world; the 
 objects that your and my minds have constructed must agree. 
 If they do not appear to do so, one of us is in error. But this 
 means that you and I somehow share in the experience of 
 a common mind, God. If we did not share in the thoughts 
 
352 EVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 of such a common mind we could not agree with one another, 
 we could not even disagree. As separate individuals you and 
 I never perceive any of the contents of each other's minds ; we 
 can only perceive each other's bodies. We can never get inside 
 each other's minds at all. Yet we do communicate ; we are able 
 to disagree, and if we are fairly reasonable and good natured 
 folk, we can sometimes even agree with each other. Conse- 
 quently it must be that in reality our minds are not sundered 
 as in appearance they seem to be. In reality we share, however 
 imperfectly, in the mind of God. The assumption of God is 
 therefore necessary in order to explain the possibility of com- 
 mon knowledge on the part of different individuals, 7. 
 
 The conception of God is also necessary to account for 
 mutual sympathy and understanding, for common recognition 
 of standards of goodness, truth, and beauty, and for united 
 effort in the formation and realization of common ideals. Men- 
 talism, in its contemporary forms, does not claim that inorganic 
 nature exists merely as ideas in the minds of individuals, as 
 Berkeley thought, but that it consists of individuals who are 
 conscious but whose inner life and consciousness are so wholly 
 different from ours that we cannot communicate with them, . 
 a fact which explains why we imagine them to be without con-> 
 sciousness at all, 8. 
 
 (2) Speculative Idealism 
 
 Speculative idealism (9) which has its ancestry in Hegel 
 (1*1831), unlike mentalism, with which it is often confused 
 even by its advocates does not maintain that everything, as 
 a separate object, is either conscious (or sub-conscious) or an 
 idea in some conscious mind. Many things, taken by them- 
 selves, are not alive or conscious at all ; in fact, this is true of 
 the great bulk of the material of which the world consists. For 
 the purposes of such a science as physics it is quite proper to 
 study the material aspects of all objects in exclusion from the 
 other aspects that some objects also have; this is one plane of 
 existence. For other purposes, material objects must be re- 
 garded from the plane of chemistry ; viewed on this plane more 
 qualities of objects are disclosed. Biology discloses more 
 characteristics still, of such objects that appear on its plane. 
 Animals that are conscious belong on the psychological plane, 
 also. And some objects are also to be found on the planes 
 of aesthetics, ethics, and so on. Each plane is an aspect of 
 
IDEALISM 353 
 
 reality, and true so far as it goes; none is the whole truth. 
 
 Moreover each level takes on additional significance when 
 its connection with other levels is considered. Nothing not 
 even the entire material side of the universe can be fully un- 
 derstood when taken by itself. Everything has to be studied 
 in the light of the whole to which it belongs. The inorganic 
 universe, as studied by astronomy, physics, chemistry and geo- 
 logy, is only one side of the whole of Reality. It belongs in 
 a whole which includes organisms. Neither inorganic nor 
 organic nature is a complete system; each implies the other. 
 Moreover, it is impossible to understand the rest of the uni- 
 verse in separation from man with his awareness of secondary 
 qualities, with his ability to reason, with his insights into good- 
 ness and beauty. That man cannot be understood apart from 
 the earthly environment in which he has appeared, everyone 
 will admit. The speculative idealists maintain that the opposite 
 is equally true. The meaning of the earthly environment can- 
 not be understood apart from man. Man is organic to the 
 world; through man the world reasons, appreciates its values 
 of beauty and morality, and other of its meanings, and so comes 
 to consciousness of itself. 
 
 Now, if we think of the world as a whole as thus having 
 meaning, that each part of it is in a system with the rest, that 
 man, and the values man recognizes and appreciates, are a 
 significant part of this whole, we are led logically to a belief 
 in God. The world as a whole, on this view, is a system ; it is 
 infinite and self-determined, since there is nothing outside of 
 the whole universe that could limit or condition it in any way. 
 In this sense the world as a whole is Absolute i. e., uncondi- 
 tioned, infinite, self-determined, self-sufficient. In the Abso- 
 lute, as thus conceived, everything has its place. In it all the 
 different planes of existence, described by the different sciences, 
 have their ultimate meaning and value. The Absolute is the 
 only complete Individual or Person, since to be an individual 
 and to have personality mean to be self-determined, and not 
 to be the product of external conditions and circumstances. 
 Since spiritual values, such as goodness, truth, and beauty, do 
 exist in man, and he is an organic part of the world, these 
 values have their place in the Absolute. All that is valuable in 
 the universe is conserved in the Absolute. 
 
 The God of religious worship has to be conceived in a more 
 intimate and human way than the philosopher describes the 
 
354 EVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 Absolute; the God of religion is, however, a closer approxima- 
 tion to the Absolute than is any other partial conception of it, 
 far closer than any of the conceptions with which sciences deal. 
 Religious worship is therefore justified, especially if God is 
 conceived as immanent. In the opinion of the author, all the 
 forms of prayer which were found to be efficacious in Chapter 
 XVI, together with the milder form of mysticism described in 
 Chapter XVII, and the various forms of awakening of the 
 religious sentiment studied in Chapter XV, may be interpreted 
 by the religious believer who accepts speculative idealism as 
 different ways in which a man becomes self-conscious of the 
 Absolute in the imagery of his own religious faith. 
 
 Speculative idealism thus approaches the problem of God in 
 its own way. It claims that it would be impossible to prove 
 the existence of God by a series of propositions, such as those 
 in a geometrical theorem, or by a resort to causal reasoning, 
 such as saying that since everything has a cause prior to it, 
 there ultimately must be a First Cause that causes everything 
 else, but is itself uncaused. For this type of philosophy there 
 can be no self-evident axiom or postulate which can be taken 
 for granted, and from which the existence of God can be 
 proved. The axiom itself would have to be proved in its turn, 
 and so on infinitely. And you can never find a cause which 
 must not be regarded as the effect of something else ; the child 
 is quite right in asking in objection to such reasoning, "Who 
 made God?" One must not ask for the logical grounds or 
 causes of things ; or how they came into existence, if one wishes 
 to be a speculative philosopher. That is putting the question 
 the wrong way. One must, on the contrary, ask why things 
 are, what are they for, what is their meaning, their value, their 
 significance. 
 
 Study the nature of anything whatsoever, what it means, 
 what its relations are to other things, and you will ultimately 
 perceive that it belongs in a systematic self-determining, spir- 
 itual whole, the Absolute. The truth of speculative philo- 
 sophy is shown, so its adherents claim, by its internal consist- 
 ency as an account of the world as a whole, its comprehensive- 
 ness and its coherence. The system fits together, it is reason- 
 able, and therefore it is convincing. Hindu mythology said 
 that the earth was supported on the back of an elephant, and 
 that the elephant was held up by a tortoise, but it could not 
 explain what kept the tortoise from falling. That was the 
 
PRAGMATISM 355 
 
 wrong mode of explanation. Modern astronomers say that 
 the earth is held in its orbit by the other celestial bodies and 
 that it assists in keeping each of them in its position as well. 
 No heavenly body is at the bottom and holds the others up; 
 they all belong in a self -maintaining system. So it is with the 
 speculative philosophy; it is a coherent whole, and the truth 
 of each detail in the system is seen in the light of the system in 
 its entirety. To know anything thoroughly means to see it 
 in relation to Reality as a whole, which includes God. The 
 position is well expressed in Tennyson's lines: 
 
 "Flower in the crannied wall, 
 I pluck you out of the crannies, 
 I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, 
 Little flower but if I could understand 
 What you are, root and all, and all in all, 
 I should know what God and man is." 
 
 5 Pragmatic Arguments. 
 
 The majority of philosophers in Great Britain and America 
 today as elsewhere in the world, are probably in one or another 
 sense, idealists. Two movements in opposition to idealism 
 have arisen, however, during the past generation, each of which 
 has numerous adherents. These are Pragmatism and the New 
 Realism. Pragmatism, slightly the elder of the two in point 
 of time, is a doctrine of peculiar interest to Americans, for the 
 reason that it originated in the United States. This doctrine, 
 which was made famous by William James, is based chiefly on 
 two fundamental positions, a method of investigation, and a 
 theory of the nature of truth. The method of investigation is, 
 that any idea, belief, theory, hypothesis or doctrine should be 
 tested by the practical consequences that follow from accept- 
 ing it and acting upon it. This has come to be known as the 
 "pragmatic test" of truth. If a theory is true, it will work 
 out in practice; if it cannot be made to work practically, it is 
 not true. James, who occasionally made rather reckless state- 
 ments, sometimes gave the impression that according to prag- 
 matism, any idea whatever that brings satisfactory conse- 
 quences is true. If the maid can make her mistress believe that 
 the cat broke the tea cup, it is true that the cat broke it. If 
 it gives men more pleasant emotions to believe that there is a 
 God, why there is one. James, of course, did not mean to 
 assert such absurdities as these. What careful pragmatists 
 
356 EVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 mean to assert as constituting what Professor D. C. Macintosh 
 discriminatingly calls "essential pragmatism," 10, is that the 
 supreme test of the truth of a proposition is observation of the 
 practical consequences that logically follow from its accept- 
 ance; it is verified, if action upon it is followed by the conse- 
 quences that could reasonably be expected to follow. This, 
 known as the "pragmatic test" of truth, is agreed by most 
 philosophers of all schools to be a good, practical test of truth ; 
 but only pragmatists make it the final and supreme test. 
 
 The pragmatistic theory of the nature of truth is far more 
 radical. This Professor Macintosh calls "hyper-pragmatism," 
 11. This doctrine is,, that truth is not merely tested by, but 
 actually consists of, the practical consequences that follow from 
 the acceptance of a proposition when these are what would be 
 logically expected. 
 
 As we are concerned with arguments for the existence of 
 God, and not with the merits of Pragmatism in general, it will 
 be impossible here to enter into a discussion of the merits of 
 the doctrine of the nature of truth affirmed by "hyper-pragma- 
 tism," nor of the doctrine of "essential pragmatism" that the 
 pragmatic method is the supreme method of investigating 
 truth. The argument for God, now to be stated, merely em- 
 ploys the pragmatic method, which nearly every one admits to 
 be at least one good, practical method of investigation. 
 
 The hypothesis of God (not in the sense of speculative ideal- 
 ism which James rejected, possibly because he never fully un- 
 derstood it, but in the sense of an external God) James found 
 to meet the pragmatic test successfully. His study of the 
 various forms of religious experience, continuous growth 
 ("healthy-mindedness" as he called it), conversion, saintliness, 
 and mysticism led him to conclude that "the conscious person 
 is continuous with a wider self through which, saving experi- 
 ences come, a positive content of religious experience which it 
 seems to me, is literally and objectively true as far as it goes." 
 He quotes, with apparent approval, the assertion of W. C. 
 Brownell that "the influence of the Holy Spirit, exquisitely 
 called the Comforter, is a matter of actual experience, as solid 
 a reality as that of electro-magnetism." To act on the hypo- 
 thesis of God thus does work, and its validity is confirmed in 
 the actual experience of the believer, 12. 
 
 This pragmatic argument, based upon the fact that the 
 acceptance of God leads to desirable consequences in the life 
 
PRAGMATISM 357 
 
 of the individual, James presented in an ingenious form in one 
 of his earliest essays, "Reflex Action and Theism," an argument 
 for belief in God as a personal power, "which not only makes 
 for righteousness, but means it and recognizes us." "Not an 
 energy of our active nature to which it does not authoritatively 
 appeal, not an emotion of which it does not normally and nat- 
 urally release the springs. At a single stroke, it changes the 
 dead blank it of the world into a living thou, with whom the 
 whole man may have dealings," 13. Such a belief leads to the 
 quickening of human powers, and furthers their development. 
 Other beliefs as to the nature of the universe, such as atheistic 
 materialism and the sort of pantheism that makes God indif- 
 ferent to distinctions between good and evil, weaken man's 
 resolution. There can be no question that belief in the right 
 sort of a God stimulates man to do his best. 
 
 Is it possible to restate James' last mentioned argument for 
 such a Being, without basing it upon the hyper-pragmatistic 
 theory of the nature of truth? In the author's opinion, Yes. 
 Man is placed in a real environment, not an imaginary one. 
 If there were no Being in man's environment, to which the con- 
 ception of God in some measure corresponded, man would not 
 best succeed in adjusting himself to his environment by belief 
 in God ; such a belief in that case would be entirely quixotic 
 in its effects on human conduct. But the opposite is the fact. 
 Therefore, there is a God. To be sure, our idea of God may 
 not be very adequate. It may be as imperfect as the concep- 
 tions which we might imagine that the tiny inhabitants of a 
 pool of water have of us. But every philosophical believer in God 
 is ready to admit that our conceptions of Him are symbolical. 
 ,The fact that the conception does work in human experience, 
 that it does enable men to conform to the requirements of the 
 world in which they are placed, and to achieve a fuller life, is 
 evidence for the contention that the conception is not an illu- 
 sion, but that, however inadequate it may be, it is at least 
 symbolical of ultimate reality. 
 
 While, in the author's opinion at least, the drift of prag- 
 matism is in the direction of belief in God, it must be admitted 
 that a decided antagonism to teleological arguments of every 
 kind, and a complete and almost ominous silence on the subject 
 of God are characteristic of writings of certain prominent 
 pragmatists. However, the author knows of no pragmatist 
 who has explicitly rejected the belief in God in his writings. 
 
358 EVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 14. Certain pragmatists write in a manner that sometimes 
 seems to adherents of other schools to imply that in their opin- 
 ion God is purely a projection from human experience and 
 needs, and in no sense exists independently. The author is not 
 certain, however, that such pragmatists are correctly under- 
 stood by their non-pragmatistic readers and critics. Prag- 
 matists who deny that there is any reality, whatever, outside 
 of experience cannot be expected to affirm the existence of God 
 outside of experience. When such a pragmatist earnestly 
 affirms the necessity, validity, and constant growth of the con- 
 ception of God within experience, he attributes to God as much, 
 and very likely more, validity than he assigns to any other 
 conception. He is therefore consistent in advising the layman 
 tc pray and to cultivate other forms of religious experience 
 in the confidence that they are valid in the sense that other 
 beliefs are valid, 15. 
 
 6 The New Realism and God 
 
 The new realism has been making rapid strides, during the 
 two decades of its existence, among professional philosophers. 
 Few of its representatives have as yet made popular statements 
 of their beliefs ; and, as a rule, each new technical treatise by 
 a new realist discloses the fact that his opinions on many sub- 
 jects have greatly altered since his last publication. No doubt 
 this is an indication of healthy growth. But it renders the 
 attempt to make the new realism clear to a beginner almost 
 hopeless, especially in regard to belief in God and other matters 
 of religious faith, topics on which comparatively few of the 
 school have as yet definitely committed themselves. 
 
 Naive realism is the view of the plain man, who supposes 
 that objects exist independent of him, regardless of whether 
 any one perceives them or in any way thinks of them. The 
 apple exists, and is red, slightly sour, sweet, and solid, whether 
 any mind in the universe takes notice of it or not. Scientific 
 realism maintains that the primary qualities of matter exist 
 independent of human minds ; for it the apple of the plain man 
 becomes atoms and molecules in motion, or electric charges. 
 The new realists are not quite certain whether to side with the 
 naive or the scientific realist; they would like to show, if pos- 
 sible, that both are in some sense right. Numbers, and all 
 mathematical and logical principles, exist independent of minds, 
 and of all events that go on in the world process ; they subsist 
 
THE NEW REALISM 359 
 
 as eternal essences or entities. 7 plus 5 equals 12 whether 
 any one knows it, or thinks of it, or not. The same is true 
 of the higher numbers that no one yet has ever counted, and 
 of the undiscovered fields of higher mathematics. Whether 
 moral axioms also (like those of justice, benevolence and equity) 
 subsist eternally, apart from minds, is a disputed point among 
 the new realists themselves. The philosophical position to 
 which the new realism is completely in opposition is mentalism. 
 It is opposed to the pragmatists upon the nature of truth; 
 and, since the eternal essences are valid independent of time, 
 the pragmatic test of truth interests it little. In opposition 
 to speculative idealism, the new realists affirm the doctrine of 
 the "externality of relations." For the speculative idealist, 
 reality is an organic whole, and nothing can be understood 
 completely without taking into account its relations to every- 
 thing else; this is the "internality of relations." On the con- 
 trary, the new realist defends analysis, and believes that he 
 can isolate an object and study it by itself; its relations to 
 other things are external. For instance, if you take a book 
 down from the shelf and place it upon the table, it is the same 
 book; its relations to shelf and table are external and do not 
 affect its real nature. Consciousness, too, is external; objects 
 can pass in and out of all minds unaltered. 
 
 As will be observed, the issues with which the new realism 
 has chiefly been concerned bear no obvious relation to religious 
 beliefs. Consequently it is probably merely a matter of chance 
 that certain initiators of the movement happened to be antag- 
 onistic to religious beliefs of the traditional sort. For in- 
 stance, while Mr. Bertrand Russell, one of the most famous of 
 the school, restricts religion to the limited sphere permitted 
 by scientific materialism, 16, this position, as Professor R. F. 
 A. Hoernle points out, has "no point of contact whatever with 
 his Realism in theory of knowledge," 17. Professor R. W. 
 Sellars, 18, an American writer who in many respects is to be 
 classified with the new realists, does not bring the conception of 
 God into his description of the "humanist's religion" which he 
 advocates. 
 
 Professor E. G. Spaulding, on the other hand, believes in 
 God. In his opinion, for the new realism, "God is the totality 
 of values;" He is "justice and truth and beauty, both as these 
 are 'above* our world and as they are in it ;" "He is thus both 
 transcendent and immanent," 19. Professor Spaulding af- 
 
360 EVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 firms his belief in "a Power for good that works not only side 
 by side with man, but also in him and through him, flowering 
 in that freedom which is given to his reason to get at truth, to 
 his emotions to love the beautiful, the good, and the true, and 
 detest the ugly, the evil, and the false, and to his will and man- 
 hood to engage in the struggle," 20. Professor S. Alexander, 
 whose Gifford Lectures, entitled Space, Time and Deity is the 
 most complete metaphysical treatise that has yet been published 
 by a new realist, arrives at the affirmation of the existence 
 of God, with most of the philosophical attributes usually recog- 
 nized. Whether his reasoning on matters of religion will be 
 acceptable to the younger and more radical neo-realists re- 
 mains to be seen. 
 
 It can at least be affirmed that the new realists are not mater- 
 ialists or mechanists. Some of them are eloquent in asserting 
 that we can and should devote ourselves wholeheartedly to en- 
 deavors for the betterment of humanity, and that we live in a 
 universe where moral aims are attainable. The argument of 
 Professor Hobhouse, in his Development and Purpose (21) may 
 be expected to have weight with the new realists, who have much 
 in common with him. As a matter of fact, this argument does 
 seen to have impressed Professor R. B. Perry, 22, in whose writ- 
 ings the claims of religion are taken into consideration, 23, but 
 who has not yet made it certain whether and to what extent 
 he is ready to give the belief in God a place in his metaphysical 
 system. Some of the great figures in the history of philosophy, 
 with which the new realism has most in common, like Plato, 
 Thomas Aquinas, Leibnitz and Reid have been defenders, of 
 the belief in God. 
 
 HI Arguments Against Belief in God 
 
 The chief objections to belief in God come either from the 
 side of Atheism, which maintains that there is no God, or of 
 Agnosticism, which maintains that the question of the exist- 
 ence of God is impossible of solution. Sometimes arguments 
 are advanced by writers who do not clearly decide whether they 
 prefer agnosticism or atheism, or some conception of God that 
 would practically exclude worship of Him. 
 
 1 Atheistic Arguments 
 
 Arguments for mechanism, or for a teleology without a God, 
 are really arguments for atheism. These have already been 
 considered, 24, as has also the contention that the conception of 
 
ATHEISM 361 
 
 God should be rejected because it is anthropomorphic. These 
 are the chief arguments for atheism. A classical defence of 
 atheism is Baron Holbach's (f!789) System of Nature. Its 
 arguments are largely directed against crude conceptions of 
 God now happily obsolete among cultivated people, an outcome 
 which the modern world no doubt owes to this writer and to 
 other sturdy "infidels" of the eighteenth and nineteenth cen- 
 turies. 
 
 One of Holbach's contentions, however, really is among the 
 strongest common sense arguments for atheism, though 
 strangely enough we do not often hear it today. It might be 
 paraphrased somewhat like this. "If there really were a God, 
 we should have no doubt upon the subject at all. Such a Be- 
 ing as God is thought to be, all wise and powerful, who expects 
 men to believe in Him, would certainly have made Himself 
 known to men in some absolutely unmistakable manner, and not 
 merely by the mode of improbable miracles and revelations 
 which are unconvincing to most thoughtful men. If God ex- 
 ists, why has He not declared Himself?" It must be admitted 
 that there is a serious difficulty here. Kant's answer to this 
 objection is a consequence of his doctrine that the main value 
 of human life is the good will, that is, character and fidelity 
 to duty. If men knew the existence of God beyond question, 
 they would automatically do what He requires, as mere pup- 
 pets, out of fear of Him, and they could develop no regard 
 for duty and character for their own sakes. Expressed a little 
 differently, we might say that probably the main reason for 
 the existence of mankind is the expression in finite beings of 
 character, and that this is better secured by faith in a Sup- 
 reme Being than by certain knowledge of Him. A different 
 and perhaps a better reply to Holbach would be to say that 
 God actually has revealed Himself to men, in the gradual ex- 
 perience of the race as we have observed the evolution of the 
 idea of God in Part I, and in the private experiences of individ- 
 uals, such as we studied in Part II. God actually reveals Him- 
 self to man as rapidly as man's developing intelligence has 
 rendered possible. 
 
 The further objection, that if there were a God, He would 
 have created men perfect at once, and given them a perfect 
 knowledge of Himself, can only be advanced against the con- 
 ception of a creator God, and does not hold against other con- 
 ceptions of the nature of God. 
 
362 EVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 2 Agnostic Arguments 
 
 Agnosticism does not deny that there is a God; it merely 
 denies our ability to find out whether there is one. 
 
 One of the most brilliant presentations of Agnosticism in 
 modern times is that advanced by Herbert Spencer in the First 
 Part of his First Principles. All human knowledge, he urges, 
 is relative. The ultimate scientific conceptions, such as space, 
 time, cause, effect, matter and motion, are all relative to the 
 human point of view, and full of contradictions if taken in any 
 absolute sense. Ultimate religious ideas also are unattainable. 
 There are only three ways of explaining the origin of the 
 world, atheism, pantheism, and theism. If, with atheism, we 
 suppose that the universe is self-existent, we have explained 
 nothing about its nature. If, with pantheism, we believe that the 
 universe is self-creative, we are unable to state the character 
 of this creation; we have explained nothing. If, with theism, 
 we believe that the universe was created by an external Agency, 
 we find ourselves unable to explain where the materials came 
 from that were used by the Creator ; nor how the Creator Him- 
 self came into existence. The ultimate ground of all existence 
 is therefore Unknown and Unknowable. 
 
 But when we go on to examine the Second part of the First 
 Principles, and the other volumes of his Synthetic Philosophy, 
 we find Spencer giving a truly remarkable account of the law 
 of evolution, a law which describes the development of the heav- 
 enly bodies, of the earth's crust, of plant and animal life, of 
 the human mind, of human ethics, religion, and society. He 
 assures us that we may reckon with confidence in the continu- 
 ance, for a long period into the future, of this process by which 
 human life is advancing in length and breadth, in other words, 
 in which human moral values are destined to triumph to such 
 an extent that egoism and altruism, and duty and pleasure will 
 at last coincide, and everybody will spontaneously do what he 
 ought to do, 25. 
 
 The critical reader is bound to ask, "If this marvelous pro- 
 cess of evolution is a fundamental law of the universe and of 
 man, and if this evolution somehow arises from and is depend- 
 ent upon, the Unknown and Unknowable, are we so entirely 
 ignorant of the latter after all? We at least know how the 
 Unknown and Unknowable is manifested in evolution, and that 
 this manifestation makes for good." It is not a great step, 
 
AGNOSTICISM 363 
 
 and it appears a perfectly logical one, that John Fiske, an 
 enthusiastic disciple of Spencer, took when he called the Un- 
 known and Unknowable the "Power that makes for Righteous- 
 ness," in other words, God, 26. Fiske was accordingly able 
 to amend the Spencerian philosophy so as to make room for all 
 the knowledge of God that is required to meet the genuine 
 needs of religion. 
 
 There remains, however, one difficulty in Spencer's philos- 
 ophy, his view of dissolution and the astronomical concep- 
 tion of evolution on which this view is based. Presently the 
 earth will grow cold. Life upon it will gradually disappear, 
 and ultimately become extinct. Finally the earth itself will 
 collide with other heavenly bodies, and its matter will be re- 
 solved into nebulous gases again. What, under these circum- 
 stances, will have become of the alleged "Power that makes for 
 Righteousness ?" 
 
 This difficulty is real, but not impossible of solution. Take 
 the facts at their worst. Suppose man were utterly to disap- 
 pear. It would still have been true that he had once lived, and 
 attained morally valuable ends. There are hundreds of thous- 
 ands of years ahead of man on the earth before his destruction 
 will come by natural causes. When we consider what has been 
 accomplished already within the few thousand years of history, 
 and how rapid human progress has been during the past three 
 or four centuries, imagination fails when it tries to think of 
 what man will yet accomplish on the earth. Will that not 
 have been worth while? Does it not reveal a teleological Power 
 in evolution, even if this Power is unable or unwilling to pre- 
 serve the achievements of man forever? So, taken at its worst, 
 these facts do not render the existence of God doubtful, but 
 merely human immortality. 
 
 But a more favorable outcome is quite conceivable. The 
 purposive Mind of the universe will outlive the crash of worlds 
 and be present in the evolution of future celestial systems. In- 
 deed, astronomers believe that the heavens reveal solar systems 
 in all stages of evolution and dissolution. Cells are constantly 
 dying and being replaced in the living human organism ; if the 
 entire universe is organic, should the analogy not lead us to 
 expect similar waste and repair in the body of God? If God 
 is eternal, we men and our moral and other values will persist 
 forever in His mind ; we, too, shall persist in His consciousness ; 
 it may be that we shall be immortal in God. 
 
364 EVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 To be sure, you may say, this is all speculation. Any the- 
 ories on such subjects must be speculative. But it is also 
 speculative to say that human values must perish when the 
 earth grows cold. Which of the two guesses is the more prob- 
 able? Well, if the general weight of evidence is really in 
 favor of a teleological and a moral universe, is it not more 
 probable that in such a universe the great achievements that 
 occur during the evolution of the earth, and the similar achieve- 
 ments that we conjecture occur on other planets are not lost? 
 In a universe that is purposive to the extent that we know ours 
 to be, must not such values in some sense be eternally con- 
 served? 
 
 IV The "Right to Believe" Argument, Faith 
 
 Perhaps the answer to agnosticism that has just been given 
 may appear to leave a rejoinder open to the agnostic. We 
 might imagine him saying: "Any conjectures on matters of 
 this sort, about which we know so little, are unwarranted. Your 
 very concessions show how extremely speculative any theory 
 on the matter must be. Better be honest, and confess that 
 though you have found several arguments in favor of God 
 that have some plausibility, they are by no means conclusive, 
 and that it is better to agree that all questions regarding the 
 ultimate nature of the universe, including the existence of God, 
 are to man at present, and so far as we can judge probably 
 always will be, unanswerable." An excellent rebuttal to the 
 agnostic on this point is furnished by the "right to believe" 
 argument of William James. 
 
 As is often the case with a popular and somewhat impres- 
 sionistic philosopher, James in some respects overstated this 
 argument, and laid himself open to attack upon assertions to 
 which his position did not necessarily commit him. Instead, 
 therefore, of reproducing James' argument as a whole, for 
 which the reader is referred to his famous essay, 27, the author 
 will here in his own language give what he believes to be a part 
 of the fundamental truth in James' doctrine of "the right to 
 believe" in God. 
 
 Let us concede to the agnostics that the existence of God 
 has not, and in the present state of human knowledge, cannot 
 be proved. None of the arguments which have been reviewed 
 
THE RIGHT TO BELIEVE 365 
 
 in the present chapter affords absolutely conclusive evidence. 
 It would have been easy to discredit every one of them, if taken 
 by itself. A child can destroy a strong cable, by severing each, 
 of its separate fibres, one by one. Yet each of the arguments 
 indicates some evidence in favor of the existence of God. Sup- 
 pose, however, that the reader, like the author, believes that all 
 of these arguments, taken together, after due allowance has 
 been made for the difficulties, establish a decided weight of 
 probability in favor of the existence of God. What then should 
 a man believe ? Put it this way ; either there is a God or there 
 is not a God. The weight of evidence, though not conclusive, 
 is in favor of the existence of God. Under these circumstances 
 should a man believe in God, or should he suspend judgment in 
 the matter? Should a man become an agnostic, or should he 
 maintain, with such modifications as his study and reflection 
 prompt, adherence to the God of the Christian or Jewish faith 
 in which he has been brought up? 
 
 This is, you see, a practical question. It is, indeed, a moral 
 question. Is it right to believe, on mere probability, what we 
 do not know? If the question were not one of great moment, 
 it would clearly be foolish to commit oneself to an uncertain 
 proposition. But this is a momentous question. The way in 
 which it is decided will considerably modify one's attitude to- 
 wards life. If one can believe that the whole world order is, 
 at least to a great extent, under the guidance and control of 
 a Power that makes for Righteousness, and who is accessible 
 in private prayer and public worship, one will have a source of 
 assurance, comfort and support upon which he can rely in the 
 responsibilities of life. The man who walks through life with 
 the aid of the Great Companion surely ought to be, and usually 
 is, a wiser, stronger, and better man than one who has to rely 
 solely upon his own efforts and those of his fellowmen. Has 
 a man a right to such a belief, however, in view of its uncer- 
 tainty ? 
 
 Now, if a man believed that the weight of evidence lay 
 against the belief in God, we should certainly have to reply, 
 that he has no such right. To be dishonest with oneself in such 
 a matter, to try to hypnotize oneself into believing what one does 
 not believe would be intellectual dishonesty and moral coward- 
 ice. We ought to honor the manly courage of the skeptics and 
 agnostics in all ages who have refused to consent to self-decep- 
 tion and, often subject to contumely and even actual persecu- 
 
366 EVIDENCE OF GOD 
 
 tion, have gone through life without the sustaining support 
 of prayer and sacraments. 
 
 But if a man believes that the weight of evidence, consid- 
 ered rationally, and without regard to his own preferences or 
 prejudices in the matter, is in favor of a God, but is not ab- 
 solutely conclusive, has he a right to believe in God? 
 
 There can be but one answer to the question. He certainly 
 has this right. Indeed, in many of the affairs of life we arc 
 constantly obliged to act on such probabilities. What man 
 or woman ever married, who was absolutely certain that the 
 marriage would prove a happy one? Who ever made a fortune 
 who did not run some risk of losses in his investments? What 
 successful business house could go through a day's transactions 
 without running risk of making some mistakes and possibly 
 serious ones? How often in the history of science itself men 
 have walked by faith, have believed in, and devoted a large 
 part of their whole lives to investigations based upon hypotheses 
 of which they were not absolutely certain! Darwin's career 
 will serve as an illustration. After he returned from his voyage 
 he tells us he was haunted by the notion of evolution, an idea 
 to which the facts that he had observed in South America strik- 
 ingly pointed, although he was long unable to form any logical 
 conception of how such a process as evolution could have taken 
 place. Few Christian saints have walked more courageously 
 by faith, and not by sight, than did he, an invalid, in frequent 
 suffering, for years patiently collecting evidence in favor of a 
 theory that, for all he certainly knew, might prove to be wholly 
 false. Unless one believes that people should never marry, 
 or succeed in business, or make scientific discoveries, one cannot 
 say that it is not right to act on beliefs that seem fairly prob- 
 able, although they are by no means proved. And it can be 
 as right to act in regard to religion, in the same manner as in 
 other fields where momentous decisions have to be made upon 
 probable but not conclusive evidence. 
 
 Furthermore, there are cases where belief in a probable fact 
 helps to make the fact a reality. If two people, when they decide 
 to marry, resolutely believe in each other, their marriage is far 
 more likely to be happy than if they maintain an attitude of 
 "honest doubt" of each other. Our great West was settled 
 successfully because the pioneers firmly believed in the future 
 of the country. Darwin would never have succeeded in estab- 
 lishing the truth of evolution if he had not believed in it. 
 
EVIDENCE OF GOD 367 
 
 Belief in the existence of God obviously could not bring such 
 a Being into existence if there be none. But if there be a God, 
 belief in Him may well bring about two desirable results. 
 First, it may lead to the discovery of evidence one would not 
 observe otherwise, as continually occurs in science when an 
 hypothesis is adopted tentatively. Secondly, it may help to 
 make God a Reality in one's own life experience, and so coop- 
 erate in bringing about the purposes of God, if these purposes 
 include the attainment by man of consciousness of Him, and 
 human cooperation with Him in the achievement of moral 
 values. Of course one must first find the weight of evidence 
 clearly in favor of a supposed fact before he should adopt it 
 in the hope that his belief will help either to bring it about, or 
 to establish its truth. If a woman were to marry a confirmed 
 drunkard, her belief in him might not avail to render the 
 marriage a happy one. Our Western pioneers could not have 
 developed the fertile fields which they passed on to the present 
 generation if they had tried to farm blue sky. It is obviously 
 foolish to base any important decision on pure speculation. 
 But where the evidence is reasonably good, and the prospects 
 of reward are great, it really seems foolish not to believe. 
 
 And may we not go a step further? Sometimes is it not 
 merely a right, but also an actual duty to believe, and to act 
 upon a belief in cases where only probability, and not absolute 
 certainty can be had? An excessively cautious officer of a 
 corporation may fail in his duty to the stockholders by losing 
 good business opportunities for them as truly as one who 
 rashly invested their funds without making a careful prelim- 
 inary investigation. A man may conceivably owe it to a wom- 
 an, whom he loves and whom he has taught to care for him, to 
 give her the chance to accept him, although no man can be 
 absolutely certain in advance that the marriage would prove 
 a happy one. Similarly, a woman conceivably might fail in 
 her duty, both to a man and to herself, by refusing him on 
 account of excessive doubts. 
 
 If the evidence in favor of God seems reasonably probable, 
 and if a man knows that the acceptance of this belief, and 
 action upon it, will enable him to be a better man, to achieve 
 a nobler life for himself, and to be of more service to others, 
 than would otherwise be possible, is it not his duty to believe? 
 Is it right for a man to refuse the enrichment that might come 
 to his life through consecration to God, and the aid he may 
 
368 FAITH 
 
 give others and receive from them by participating in the pub- 
 lic worship of the church or synagogue in which he has been 
 brought up, or which for other reasons he finds will be of most 
 service to him, or in which he can be of most service to others ? 
 
 The author does not wish to press this argument too strong- 
 ly. It is, of course, a matter of private conscience. Where 
 absolute proof is unattainable, everyone must weigh the evi- 
 dence for himself. Like marriage, it is a personal matter, 
 which no one can decide for any one else. It is what in ethics 
 is called a case of imperfect obligation. And, as in all cases 
 of imperfect ethical obligation, it is every one's duty to exercise 
 perfect respect and tolerance for those who decide differently 
 in the matter from oneself. Those who identify themselves with 
 church or synagogue should respect those who do not. And 
 those who remain outside of religious organizations should re- 
 member that in our modern society it is quite as wrong, and 
 quite as easy, for an atheist or agnostic to be a fanatical bigot 
 as it is for a believer in God. 
 
 It ought to be clear without further discussion what the 
 thoughtful modern believer in God should understand by Faith. 
 He does not accept the small boy's definition, "Faith is believ- 
 ing, 'cos you want to, what you know ain't so." He cannot, 
 with Tertullian, believe in absurdities credo quia absurdum; 
 nor can he with Pascal, affirm that there are such things as 
 "reasons of the heart" which cannot be intellectually tested; 
 he cannot, even, with Locke, believe that there are truths that, 
 though not inconsistent with reason, yet are "above reason" 
 and have their truth validated by revelation. While he regards 
 his acceptance of God as a "venture of faith," he did not make 
 it on more uncertain evidence than many of the other impor- 
 tant decisions of his life. After having made this decision and 
 acted upon it, he has found his confidence in its correctness 
 strengthened by his further experience. He does not believe 
 that this is due to shutting his eyes to the uncertainty of 
 the evidence, but to the fact that further events have been on 
 the whole what belief in God would have led him to expect. 
 False hypotheses as a rule do not work when put into practice. 
 This hypothesis, he finds, does work in his own experience, and 
 in that of other religious people with whom he is associated. 
 He, therefore, believes that it is true. And this is all that he 
 means by Faith. 
 
REFERENCES 
 
 369 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 WILLIAM JAMES, The Witt to Believe. Varieties of Religious Experience, 
 Lecture XX, Postscript. 
 
 *JOIIN FISKE, Idea of God. 
 
 *JOSIAII ROYCE, Religious Aspect of Philosophy. 
 
 *A. K. ROGERS, The Religious Conception of the World. 
 
 *E. C. WILM, Problems of Religion. 
 
 *THEODOOE FLOURXOY, The Philosophy of William James. 
 
 *FRIEDUICH PAULSEX, Introduction to Philosophy. 
 
 *J. H. TUFTS, E. W. LYMAK and E. HEIISIIEY SKEATH, "The Ultimate 
 Test of Religious Truth," American Journal of Theology, XIV (1910), 
 pp. 16-46. 
 
 Numerous references, of both elementary and advanced character, are 
 given in the NOTES to this Chapter. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 THE NATURE OF GOD AND THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 
 
 I Introductory 
 
 WE are now ready to consider theories regarding the nature 
 of God. Whether the relation of God to man be conceived to 
 be immanent or external, a satisfactory theory of the nature 
 of God must be able to meet three requirements. (1) God 
 must be so conceived that it can be held that it is through His 
 agency that prayer and other religious experiences are rendered 
 efficacious in the various ways that we saw in Part II, that, as 
 a matter of fact, they are efficacious. (2) Since it is maintained 
 that man receives aid from God, it must be that God is good, a 
 power that makes for righteousness in the universe, just and 
 benevolent in His treatment of man. The presence of physical 
 and moral evil in the world must be reconciled with the supposed 
 goodness of God. By physical evil is meant the effects of natural 
 conditions adverse to man, conditions that produce floods and 
 drouth, lightning, earthquakes, famines, diseases, and other 
 calamities that fall indifferently upon good men and bad men 
 alike. By moral evil is meant sin and its consequences, which 
 often afflict the innocent together with the guilty. (3) A God 
 who in some sense is thought to be directing the course of events 
 in the universe and to come to the assistance of man through his 
 religious experiences must be extremely powerful. How is His 
 supreme powerfulness to be reconciled with the freedom of the 
 human will? Or is human freedom an illusion? If the latter 
 question is answered affirmatively, in what sense can man be 
 morally responsible for his actions? 
 
 In the present chapter we shall be concerned with the first 
 two of these questions, leaving the third to the following chap- 
 ter. We shall begin by considering the answers given by two 
 rival tendencies of thought which it will be convenient to call 
 "traditional theism" and "traditional pantheism," 1, after which 
 we shall notice the views of several philosophers of our own 
 time. 
 
 3TO 
 
TRADITIONAL THEISM 371 
 
 II Traditional Theism 
 
 In its older Christian forms, traditional theism taught that 
 once there was a time when nothing existed but God, and that 
 He decided to create the heavens and earth, which He proceeded 
 to do in the manner set forth in the opening chapters of Genesis. 
 He created man in His own image out of the dust of the 
 ground arid breathed in him a living soul. Man was then 
 innocent, knowing neither good nor evil. Tempted by the 
 Devil, an angel who had previously rebelled against God, man 
 disobeyed the divine command, and sin entered the human race. 
 Because of sin God condemned all mankind to everlasting pun- 
 ishment: but later on, out of compassion, He sent his only be- 
 gotten Son down to earth, who assumed the form of a man in 
 the person of Jesus Christ, and satisfied divine justice by dying 
 for mankind upon the cross. All men who come to hear of 
 Jesus Christ, and who accept Him as their Saviour in the man- 
 ner that He has prescribed, will be saved from everlasting pun- 
 ishment. After His resurrection from the dead, Christ ascend- 
 ed into Heaven, from whence He shall come at the end of the 
 earth, and judge living men, and all the dead who shall then 
 have risen from their graves. Those whom He accepts shall 
 live in eternal bliss with Him in Heaven, while the remainder 
 of mankind shall burn in Hell forever. Heaven, Earth, Hell, 
 and (except for Protestants after the Reformation and except, 
 according to the Protestant contention, for primitive Chris- 
 tians) Purgatory, were definitely located by the astronomy of 
 the times. There was much that was ethically inspiring in this 
 faith, due to the fact that good men focussed their attention 
 on its finer features, such as the love of God for them, and their 
 redemption through the love and suffering of Christ. Many 
 good people in countless ages in the past, as well as today, 
 have been impelled to their noblest efforts through it. Its finest 
 poetical expressions were furnished, in the Catholic interpre- 
 tation, by Dante, and in the Protestant, by Milton. 
 
 Traditional theism attributed the efficacy of prayer and 
 other forms of religious experience to the miraculous inter- 
 ference of God in the world's events. Before the growth of 
 modern natural science, the theist was not forced to accept the 
 uniformity of nature. He believed man to be surrounded by 
 numerous good and evil spirits, and that they, as well as God, 
 continually set aside the course of natural events. He found 
 
372 GOD AND EVIL 
 
 no difficulty in believing that God had actually once caused the 
 sun to stand still in the sky until the Israelites could gain a 
 complete victory over their enemies, and that on another oc- 
 casion, He caused a man to ride up into Heaven in a chariot 
 of fire. 
 
 However, aside from scientific objections, traditional theism 
 was always open to many difficulties. Why did God exist all 
 alone by Himself, from all eternity, before He decided to make 
 a world? What change took place in Him to lead Him to 
 create the world when He did? More serious were the difficul- 
 ties with the problem of evil. If, as was believed, God was all 
 wise, all good, and all powerful, why did He create a world full 
 of physical ills, and of sin and suffering? When He created 
 man, did He not foresee that man would sin? If He 
 did not, He could not have been omniscient; and if He did, 
 how can He be exonerated from responsibility for the fall of 
 man? Adam and Eve are depicted in Genesis as mere children, 
 not knowing the difference between good and evil. The heinous 
 sin that they committed merely consisted in eating forbidden 
 fruit ! For this God is said to have inflicted an everlasting pun- 
 ishment, not only upon them, but upon their remotest descend- 
 ants. How can anybody attribute to a just and loving God 
 judgments so harsh and disproportionate to the character of 
 an offense, that if they had been rendered by any man he would 
 abhor him as a vindictive tyrant? The cruelty of God, accord- 
 ing to the old theistic conception, has been passionately por- 
 trayed in English poetry by Byron in Cain, and by Shelley in 
 Queen Mob. In reply to the charge that their view really 
 makes God responsible for the wrong doing of man, theistic 
 theologians often said that God created man good and inno- 
 cent, with a free will and that man later wilfully abused his 
 freedom by disobeying his Maker. This view, however, appears 
 to admit that God's power has become curtailed since His crea- 
 tion of the world. He has been compelled to face the insurrec- 
 tion of His creatures. 
 
 The old-fashioned theistic theologians were never able to 
 escape from such dilemmas as this: If God be all wise and 
 powerful, He must have willed all that has come to pass, in- 
 cluding human sinfulness, and the other evils and imperfections 
 in the universe. But if He willed all these evils and imperfec- 
 tions, He cannot be all wise and powerful. We cannot here 
 review the many subtle and refined arguments by which a way 
 
THE OLDER PANTHEISM 373 
 
 out of this dilemma was sought. Historians have pointed out 
 similar difficulties in Jewish and Moslem theism. 
 
 Ill The Older Pantheism 
 
 Opposed to the theistic conception of a Creator God, there 
 frequently appeared in Christian and Jewish thought the unor- 
 thodox conception of pantheism. This doctrine identifies God 
 with the world in its totality all things, taken together, are 
 God. This was the position, as we saw in Chapter VII, of 
 philosophical Brahmanism. Various Biblical passages have 
 been interpreted in favor of this view, notably such as "the 
 kingdom of God is within you," and the imagery of the vine 
 and the branches in the fifteenth chapter of the fourth Gospel, 
 as well as expressions here and there in the writings of St. Paul. 
 Pantheism has always been a favorite view with mystics of 
 all religions. The fundamental life principle in you and me 
 and all things is God ; we are all one in Him ; there is really no 
 difference between us, that is the truth in the figurative saying 
 that we are all brothers and God is our heavenly Father. There 
 was much that is poetically attractive in the old pantheism. 
 It made for sweetness, sympathy and tolerance. For it, 
 God was love more consistently than for the old theism which 
 portrayed God too often as an angry and vengeful Judge. It 
 could escape some of the harshness of Genesis by interpreting 
 the account allegorically. But, where the old theism tended 
 toward bigotry, the old pantheism erred on the side of excessive 
 tolerance. Since all things are God, good and evil, truth and 
 error, are all alike divine. God is both the slayer and the slain. 
 He is the doubter and the doubt as well as the devout worshipper 
 and his hymn, of praise, as is shown in Emerson's little poem, 
 Brahma. If objection be made to this tendency to submerge 
 all things in God, and make God favor both good and evil, the 
 pantheist could take refuge in the negative side of his doctrine, 
 and say that God, being Infinite, is beyond all human con- 
 ceptions; He is neither good nor bad, neither true nor false; 
 of Him we can say only that He is, and that no human attribute 
 applies to Him. To identify oneself with God is, then, from 
 the human standpoint apparently to pass into nothingness; 
 God is all, therefore He is nothing that we can perceive or 
 conceive. 
 
 Such pantheism had even more serious faults than its theistic 
 
374. GOD AND EVIL 
 
 rival ; it could not satisfactorily serve the function of religion 
 in the conservation of values. It only escaped the narrowness 
 and animosities of theism by a vision of gentle loveliness that 
 made everything satisfactory as it is, since all is God, and since 
 no human values have significance for Him at all. "Resist 
 not evil" was likely to become a precept of lazy acquiescence 
 in things as they are ; and it was easy to find a quiet retreat 
 from participation in the world's battles, and enjoy a vision 
 of the ineffable. 
 
 However, we must not give an unjust impression. Many a 
 mystical saint who has believed himself and all men identical 
 with God has taught the world lessons of kindness and charity, 
 and how to recognize the divine possibilities for good that 
 exist in every man. Less concerned than theism to effect 
 miraculous changes in the external world, pantheism taught 
 that the real struggle and the real victory are to be won in the 
 human soul itself. To realize the divine presence both within 
 one's soul and in those of one's fellowmen and to maintain one's 
 life on this plane is the main achievement of prayer. In such 
 experiences one attains immortality here and now. Pantheism 
 served as a corrective to theism ; neither was the whole truth, 
 each had excellences that the other lacked. Most adherents of 
 religion have, in their thinking and in their living, uncon- 
 sciously combined the two philosophies, with results that were 
 saner and more wholesome than either view taken by itself 
 would have afforded. 
 
 IV Modern Philosophical Theism and Pantheism 
 
 As religious thought has been gradually assimilating the 
 teachings of modern science, theism and pantheism have been 
 tending to converge. With the acceptance of the Copernican 
 astronomy, it became impossible for theism to place God upon a 
 throne in any particular locality in the universe; it became 
 clear that if He is anywhere, He must be everywhere. Heaven 
 and Hell had to be thought of as states rather then as places. 
 With the prevalence of the doctrine of evolution, other theistic 
 conceptions had to be greatly modified. It became difficult in 
 astronomy to think that the universe ever had a beginning; its 
 various portions pass through cycles or phases, but it must 
 always have existed, and it always will exist. If God is its 
 Creator, the theist was forced to conclude that He could not 
 have created it in some particular period in the past ; He must 
 
THEISM AND PANTHEISM 375 
 
 be eternally creating it. As the different biological species 
 were found to have developed at different times from other 
 species in accordance with natural laws, it was seen that if God 
 be credited with their creation, He must have been creating 
 them gradually through the processes of evolution. God, in 
 other words, is everywhere in the universe, eternally creating. 
 Such a theism is little different from pantheism. The various 
 processes of nature have for it become identified with the action 
 of God. 
 
 Modern pantheism, on its side, has been unwilling to concede 
 that there is, for God, no difference between good and evil, 
 truth and error. To be sure, our human expressions are 
 inadequate, when applied to God. Good and evil have a dif- 
 ferent significance for Him than for us. And God is every- 
 where, in all things. But all things do not have equal value for 
 Him, nor is He equally revealed in them all. We speak of one 
 photograph of a friend as good, another as bad; yet both are 
 truthful likenesses; the camera never lies. But one likeness 
 reveals more of the friend's personality than the other ; the 
 expression is more characteristic, as we say ; the significance of 
 the man is more adequately revealed by it. So it is of the var- 
 ious things in the world. The modern pantheist cannot agree 
 with the Pope that God is as perfectly revealed "in a hair as in a 
 heart." Hoar and frost indeed "glorify God ;" but the lowliest 
 plant with its characteristics as an organism expresses the 
 immanent divine teleology in more respects ; the simplest con- 
 scious animal expresses them more fully than any plant; the 
 most primitive savage more than any animal ; good men more 
 than bad men ; and, for the Christian pantheist, Jesus far more 
 than any other man. So, while all things in the universe have 
 a place and a value, and all are expressions of God, they do not 
 all have equal value. 
 
 The views which have thus far been attributed to modern 
 theism and pantheism are hardly incompatible. In fact it is 
 often difficult today to determine whether a writer really is a 
 theist or a pantheist. Probably no philosophical theist today 
 believes that there ever was a time in which there was no world, 
 and that God then created it out of nothing; and no western 
 pantheist thinks that God is indifferent to distinctions between 
 good and evil. The 'creative evolution' of the present-day 
 theist cannot be much different from the 'immanent teleology' 
 of a contemporary pantheist. 
 
376 GOD AND EVIL 
 
 Abandoning, therefore, any further attempt formally to 
 distinguish between theism and pantheism, let us review certain 
 typical positions that have recently been advanced regarding 
 the nature of God. It will be convenient to center the discussion 
 about the views of William James and Josiah Royce, probably 
 the two most famous American philosophers who have developed 
 their thought along these lines in recent years. They both 
 stand for positions that are compromises between historic 
 theism and historic pantheism. Both are too modern to be tra- 
 ditionally orthodox. James' philosophy of religion inclines 
 more to the side of theism and an external God, while Royce is 
 more on the side of pantheism and an immanent God. There 
 are two advantages, for our purposes, in giving particular 
 attention to these two philosophers. In the first place, the views 
 of both can readily be approached from the psychological side 
 which has been reviewed in Part II; and secondly, both express 
 themselves with great lucidity and literary attractiveness. 
 The reader who is beginning his study of the philosophy of 
 religion will find it practicable and profitable to continue his 
 study with the writings of either or both of these philosophers. 
 
 V James* Conception of an External God 
 
 James was profoundly interested in the religious experiences 
 of individual men and women of all epochs and creeds. In the 
 investigation of such personal experiences he believed it possible 
 to get closest to reality. At the end of his Varieties of Religion? 
 Experience, which contains a careful review of a large collection 
 of such experiences, gathered from autobiographical and other 
 sources, James concludes that in them all, despite the greatest 
 differences in creeds and other outlooks upon life, there 
 are common elements. These are: (1) an uneasiness, due 
 to a sense of something being wrong about the person ; followed 
 by (2) a solution, due to a sense of being saved from the wrong- 
 ness, by having made proper connection with something with 
 which be can keep in working touch, and so save himself, even 
 when all his lower being seems to have gone to wreck. A new life 
 opens to him, and he has a sense of union with an external and 
 superior helping power. Psychologically interpreted, this in- 
 flux of new life clearly comes into consciousness from the sub- 
 conscious self; the conscious person is continuous with a "wider 
 self" through which saving experiences come. 
 
 Thus far, the testimony of all religious experiences is unan- 
 
WILLIAM JAMES 377 
 
 imous. James feels no doubt that he has been able to furnish 
 the correct psychological explanation. What is beyond this 
 "wider self," however, is the point of divergence between the ad- 
 herents of different religions ; on this, the testimony of Stoics, 
 Buddhists, Vedantists, and Christians is extremely diverse. 
 However, James believes that the facts make it at least highly 
 probable that through this "wider self" the individual comes in 
 contact with an "unseen region" of the universe. Through this 
 "unseen region" work is actually done upon our finite person- 
 ality, and we are turned into new men. It is therefore a real 
 world, and one to which we belong in a more intimate sense than 
 to the visible world, "for we belong in the most intimate 
 sense wherever our ideals belong. Yet the unseen region in 
 question is not merely ideal, for it produces effects in this 
 world." The "unseen world" is therefore a reality. "God is 
 the natural appellation, for us Christians at least, for the 
 supreme reality, so I will call this higher part of the universe 
 by the name of God," 2. 
 
 James refuses in this book to specify in detail the character- 
 istics of God. He is not even willing to decide whether he be- 
 lieves in one God, or in a sort of philosophical polytheism. 
 But he is certain that the conception of God as he has accepted 
 it, is sufficient to enable men to pray with the conviction that the 
 strength that they receive from prayer is from a Superior 
 Being not themselves, and to be similarly assured regarding 
 their other religious experiences such as conversion, continuous 
 growth, and mysticism. He believes that "the practical needs 
 and experiences of religion" are "sufficiently met by the belief 
 that beyond each man and in a fashion continuous with him 
 there exists a larger power which is friendly to him and to his 
 ideals." 
 
 In his other works James gives further details of his con- 
 ception of God. For James, God, or the superhuman con- 
 sciousness, "however vast it may be, has itself an external en- 
 vironment, and consequently is finite." He believes that there 
 is a God, "but that he is finite, either in power or in knowledge, 
 or in both at once," 3. "God has an environment, He is in time, 
 and works out a history just like ourselves." James was led to 
 believe in the finitude of God, probably under the influence of 
 the thought of John Stuart Mill, 4, to whom he dedicated his 
 Pragmatism, and whom he greatly admired. Like Mill, the 
 problem of evil seemed to James soluble only on this assump- 
 
378 GOD AND EVIL 
 
 tion. Evil is in the world, as a great and terrible fact ; any one 
 who is a "tough minded" empiricist and willing to face the 
 facts cannot fail to recognize it. It is futile with "tender mind- 
 ed" rationalists to shut our eyes to its presence, or to try to 
 explain it away by saying that it is only an appearance or a 
 human illusion, that for God it does not exist or else that to 
 the divine Mind evil is transferred into some beautiful harmony 
 of which we are not aware and in which we do not participate. 
 "In this real world of sweat and dirt, it seems to me that when 
 a view of things is 'noble,' that ought to count as a prescrip- 
 tion against its truth, and as a philosophic disqualification. 
 The prince of darkness may be a gentleman, as we are told he 
 is, but whatever the God of earth and heaven is, he can surely 
 be no gentleman. His menial services are needed in the dust 
 of our human trials, even more than his dignity is needed in 
 the empyrean," 5. God, for James, "lives in the very dirt of 
 private fact." The presence of evil in the world can only be 
 explained on the assumption of a good God, if we believe that 
 God is finite in power or knowledge and so has thus far been 
 unable to prevent it. But there is hope that eventually evil 
 will be overcome and turned to good, especially if we and other 
 creatures assist God in bringing this about. "God himself, in 
 short, may draw vital strength and increase of his very being 
 from our fidelity. For my own part, I do not know what the 
 sweat and blood and tragedy of this life means, if they mean 
 anything short of this. If this life be not a real fight, in which 
 something is eternally gained for the universe by success, it is 
 no better than a game of private theatricals from which one 
 may withdraw at will. But it feels like a real fight, as if there 
 were something really wild in the universe which we, with all 
 our idealities and faithfulness, are needed to redeem ; and first 
 of all to redeem our own hearts from atheisms and fears. For 
 such a half-wild, half-saved universe our nature is adapted," 6. 
 "Who knows whether the faithfulness of individuals here below 
 . . . may not actually help God in turn to be more effec- 
 tively faithful to his own greater tasks?" 7. 
 
 God, then, for James is finite ; and the world is imperfect and 
 sinful. But God is a conscious and a moral being, and we have 
 the opportunity to cooperate with Him for the salvation of the 
 world. If we are faithful, we can be sure that He will be faith- 
 ful, and there is every reason to hope (though, to be sure, not 
 absolute certainty, but a good fighting chance is all we need) 
 
A LIMITED GOD 379 
 
 that we and He together will be victorious. The thought of 
 James here, as Professor Flournoy has pointed out, is similar 
 to that expressed in the words of the Apostle, "We are labor- 
 ers together with God," 8. 
 
 The advantages and disadvantages of James' conception of 
 God are evident. It appeals to our red blood. We have a God 
 who is on our side, who is accessible to us in religious experi- 
 ence and who will help us ; and together with Him we have a 
 good chance to make a finer and better world. On the other 
 hand, the future is not absolutely assured, and to many the 
 real function of religion is to give such assurance. "The 
 victory for which morality fights is for religion already, or 
 rather, eternally, won ; and it is the assurance of this victory 
 which inspires the finite subject with courage and confidence 
 in his individual struggle," says Professor Pringle-Pattison, 9. 
 James might reply that his view does give us a reasonable 
 amount of assurance in view of the past progress that human 
 history records, and of our own private religious experiences. 
 A more serious objection, as it seems to the author, is one that 
 he has already pointed out (see page 281 above) that the hypo- 
 thesis of an external God has to be incorporated into the science 
 of psychology, and so be made operative upon a plane where 
 it does not seem properly to belong. 
 
 VI Other Theories of a Limited God 
 
 The objection to James' conception of God just mentioned, 
 has been avoided, the author believes, by Professor L. T. Hob- 
 house. In some respects his conclusions regarding God are 
 similar to those of James, though his philosophical system as 
 a whole is radically different. The history of the evolution of 
 individual minds in the universe appears to imply "a Mind that 
 is not limited to a single physical organism." The existence 
 of a Purpose, so far as our experience and reasoning powers 
 go, implies a Mind commensurate with that Purpose. So, if 
 there is a purpose running through the world as a whole, and 
 Professor Hobhouse thinks that the evidence points that way, 
 "there is a Mind of which the world-purpose is the object." 
 Such a Mind must be a permanent and central factor in the 
 universe, in short, God. But this Mind, or God, is neither the 
 whole of things nor an Omnipotent Creator ; nor is it an Omni- 
 potent Providence. It is only a factor in the whole of things. 
 
380 GOD AND EVIL 
 
 Evil exists in the world. The extent of evil is "the measure 
 of the incompleteness of the order actually achieved by Mind 
 in the world," 10. Physical evil is the outcome of blind mechan- 
 ical forces in the world which have not yet been brought under 
 control. Moral evil is due to the partial ends that individuals, 
 families, and classes of society selfishly pursue without regard 
 to their effect upon others. These evils are gradually being 
 overcome by an advancing humanity, in which God is incar- 
 nated. "This slowly wrought out dominance of mind in things 
 is the central fact of evolution. . . It gives a meaning to 
 human effort, as neither the pawn of an overruling Providence 
 nor the sport of blind force. It is a message of hope to the 
 world, of suffering lessened and strife assuaged, not by fleeing 
 from reason to the bosom of faith, but by the increasing ration- 
 al control of things by that collective wisdom, ..... 
 which is all that we directly know of the Divine," 11. 
 
 Professor Hobhouse in his philosophy makes no place at all 
 for James' recognition of impulse, mysticism, and other non- 
 rational factors. He does not permit us to believe that the 
 increasing rational control of things is due to an external God 
 acting upon the subconscious. For him God apparently must 
 be immanent in the human mind, and especially in the human 
 reason, and to operate through the logical processes. Professor 
 Hobhouse is extremely guarded in venturing any further state- 
 ments regarding the nature of God. It is quite possible, the 
 author believes, to accept this interpretation of evolution and 
 of the relation of God to man, and to make one further asser- 
 tion which, so far as he knows, Professor Hobhouse has not 
 himself made, viz : that in prayer and other forms of religious 
 experience (at least those of a more rational and intellectual 
 character) man becomes aware of God and is strengthened by 
 Him for the performance of his tasks, 12. 
 
 Another contemporary philosopher who believes in a limited 
 God is Dr. Hastings Rashdall. He also is led to this conclu- 
 sion by reason of the evil that is in the world. Dr. Rashdall con- 
 ceives of God as alone eternal ; all other beings owe their exist- 
 ence to Him. So God has willed and is responsible for the 
 world as it is. The evil in the world is so great that we cannot 
 believe the world, as it now is, to have been willed for its own 
 sake by a perfectly good and rational Being, such as is God. 
 The present world must therefore have been willed as a means 
 to some future end. It would be unjust for man to have been 
 
A LIMITED GOD 381 
 
 brought into existence merely in preparation for this future 
 good unless he were to share in it; so man must be immortal. 
 Gtod has willed this universe as it now is, because it is the best 
 that seems possible to Him, to whose mind all the possibilities 
 of things are known. The ethical perfection of God is beyond 
 question. His limitations cannot be on the side of His good- 
 ness ; they must be on the side of His power. There must be 
 eternal necessities that are part of His own eternal nature. 
 These prevent Him from willing a universe in which all the 
 good that will ultimately be gained in this universe might have 
 been gained without the evil that now exists. God is respon- 
 sible for the evil that men do, but not in such a way as to clear 
 men of full responsibility for their own actions ; indeed, in a 
 sense, man alone is the author of evil, for he alone wills evil 
 otherwise than as a means to the ultimate good. Dr. Rashdall's 
 grounds for believing in the existence of God are chiefly the 
 moral arguments, (which he states in a very convincing man- 
 ner in connection with his ethical system as a whole), and the 
 arguments that follow from mentalism. 
 
 That the doctrine of a finite God does not necessarily imply 
 pragmatism or other standpoints peculiar to James is evident 
 from the fact that this doctrine is also held by Professor Hob- 
 house, a realist, and by Dr. Rashdall, who calls himself a "the- 
 istic idealist." Both of these thinkers are at wide variance 
 with James in their philosophical standpoints, and with each 
 other. Yet the presence of evil has forced all three to the con- 
 ception of a God that is limited in power. The example of 
 Dr. Rashdall, a clergyman who adds to profound philosophical 
 scholarship a deep understanding of and sympathy with, the 
 needs of the human heart on the religious side, ought to assure 
 any student that if his study of the problem of evil leads him 
 to conclude that God is limited in power, he need not lose his 
 religious faith and devotion to God on that account, 13. 
 
 Some of the other pragmatists have accepted James 5 doctrine 
 of a finite God, and have in some respects developed the con- 
 ception further, though it must be confessed, they have more 
 often done so in connection with their attacks upon idealism 
 than in a constructive manner. The most original and sugges- 
 tive developments of the idea of a limited God in the literature 
 of Pragmatism by writers other than James are probably to be 
 found in the writings of Dr. F. C. S. Schiller, 14. 
 
282 GOD AND EVIL 
 
 VII Royce's Conception of an Immanent God 
 
 Many idealistic philosophers of the past generation in Great 
 JBritain and America have held the conception of an immanent 
 God. The God of religion is thought to be, either the universe 
 taken in its entirety as an organic whole, or the Mind of the 
 universe as a whole, or the closest approximation to such an 
 Absolute that it is possible for religion to employ for its prac- 
 tical human needs. Josiah Royce's brilliant conception of God 
 is in most respects typical of this group, and it furnishes a 
 sharp contrast to the notion of a limited God which we have 
 just been considering. As Royce's work was chiefly done before 
 the issue between mentalism and speculative idealism had become 
 so sharply defined as it is today, his conception contains fea- 
 tures peculiar to each, and not entirely consistent with one 
 another. Taken all in all, however, Royce's conception of God 
 is probably the most readily grasped, and for religious pur- 
 poses, the most practically workable that has been furnished 
 by representatives of mentalism or speculative idealism. 
 
 Like James, Royce was keenly interested in religious pheno- 
 mena from a psychological standpoint, and like him, he was 
 deeply impressed with the problem furnished by the presence 
 of physical and moral evil. However his idealistic philosophy, 
 and the fact that his psychological interests were chiefly on the 
 side of social psychology, led him to a conception of God and a 
 solution of the problem of evil that were radically different. 
 
 Royce was at once impressed with the uniqueness of individ- 
 uals and with the dependence of individuals upon one another 
 in the social order. Our minds are so constituted that it is 
 impossible for any of us to share directly in the consciousness 
 of another person ; I can see your body, but I cannot perceive 
 your thoughts, nor you any of mine. On the moral side, too, 
 each of us is unique ; each has his own interests, talents, obliga- 
 tions and loyalties, and each of us must completely respect the 
 personalities of others. Yet for all this uniqueness of our con- 
 sciousness on the cognitive, as well as on the emotional and 
 Volitional sides, we belong in a social world and are dependent 
 upon one another. Upon these considerations Royce bases his 
 arguments for the existence of God. Along the lines of mental- 
 ism, he argues that the world must either be mental, such that 
 minds can know it, or else it must be unknowable. After refut- 
 ing the claims of agnosticism, he maintains that since the world 
 
JOSIAH ROYCE 383 
 
 is knowable it must be actually known to an all embracing Mind 
 or Self, i. e. y God. The fact that you and I can perceive the 
 same object and agree or for that matter disagree about 
 its characteristics, indicates that we are not really each shut 
 up in his own isolated consciousness, but that we are members 
 of a common Self (i. e., God). We are related to each other 
 in this common Self, in a manner somewhat analogous to that 
 in which our ideas are related to one another in our own minds. 
 In our own minds we often find different ideas in disagreement 
 with one another ; when this is the case, they can be corrected 
 in the light of the completer knowledge we can recall from 
 memory and attain by reasoning; in other words, each idea is 
 validated and corrected by ourselves. In a similar way we are 
 elements in agreement or disagreement with the other contents 
 of God's mind. On the moral side, too, each of us has his own 
 personality and his own talents and duties; he must find the 
 objects and causes which evoke his loyalty and be faithful to 
 them. These loyalties he will find lead him ever on into larger 
 loyalties, until they constitute a system that includes his rela- 
 tionships to all his fellow human beings and to the universe as 
 a whole, and so give him the place it is his duty to fill in the 
 purposes of God. The fact of the mental isolation and moral 
 uniqueness of every human being on the one hand, with the 
 fact that his knowledge and his duties bring him into organic 
 relationship with other human beings and with the physical 
 universe on the other, lead to the conclusion that the universe 
 as a whole must be an organic whole, unified in the knowledge 
 and will of an Absolute Mind. 
 
 God, for Royce, is accordingly an Absolute Mind that 
 knows, feels, and wills the whole universe in its entirety. He 
 variously describes Him as "the Logos," the "Problem Solver," 
 the "World Interpreter," and the all inclusive "Self," all 
 terms that imply that it is through Him that we share in the 
 understanding and appreciation of the meaning and purposes 
 of a common world. God is both in time and He is eternal. He 
 perceives, feels and wills the various events that we experience 
 following one another in time in our own consciousness; in this 
 sense He is in time like ourselves. On the other hand, he per- 
 ceives the entire succession of events in time all together at once, 
 as a totum simul, and in this sense He is eternal. Analogous 
 to the divine experience, is the manner in which one who under- 
 stands music can experience as in an artistic whole the various 
 
384 GOD AND EVLL 
 
 notes in a symphony; they indeed follow one another in time 
 as the selection is rendered by the orchestra, yet in a sense 
 they all belong together in a whole so that the last and the first 
 are appreciated together. Unless the notes actually were ex- 
 perienced as following one another in time they could not also 
 be perceived and felt as constituting an artistic whole. God 
 experiences the Universe in time as we do, and immanent in us, 
 in fact; and also He experiences it eternally as a completed 
 whole. His experience of it in its eternal completeness and 
 perfection could not occur if it were not for the fact that He 
 also experiences its succession in time in ourselves and the other 
 finite minds of the universe. In fact, His mind is constituted 
 by the finite minds of the universe, and yet is a complete whole ; 
 much as our minds are constituted by our successive ideas, and 
 yet embrace these ideas in the completed wholes that constitute 
 our personalities or selves. 
 
 From this follows Royce's solution of the problem, of evil. 
 Just as there have to be strident notes in a symphony to make 
 possible its harmony as a whole, so there must be evil in the 
 world, both physical and moral, in order that it may be over- 
 come in the universal harmony. Without the evil, the good 
 could not triumph. This doctrine is not one of quietism or 
 Oriental resignation. It calls upon all of us to endeavor to 
 cooperate in the world purposes, both by way of intellectual 
 understanding, and emotional appreciation, and service in the 
 active duties of life, and so to make ourselves one with the 
 Absolute. Moral responsibility and the sharp distinction be- 
 tween right and wrong are insisted upon. The life of the good 
 man is eternally approved in the divine mind ; the deeds of the 
 sinful man, while turned to good ultimately in the world order, 
 are eternally reprobated. 
 
 The doctrine that evil deeds are turned into good in the har- 
 mony of the whole, while in a sense they still remain evil and 
 are reprobated, furnished one of the leading motives in Royce's 
 interpretation of Christianity. Essential to any religion, or 
 any associated life at all, is mutual confidence and loyalty. All 
 sin is, in a sense, treason or disloyalty to the moral community. 
 The betrayal of Judas and the denial of Peter were instances 
 of such disloyalty. These had to be overcome and confidence 
 restored through an atoning deed that would reunite the com- 
 munity and restore its devotion to its leader. This is the sig- 
 nificance of the death of Christ as the Church was enabled to 
 
JOSIAH ROYCE 385 
 
 interpret it. Why did the evil deeds have to take place? Would 
 not the world have been better without them? No, Royce would 
 answer. Only in this way would the atoning deeds be rendered 
 possible, and the increased and intensified devotion of the mem- 
 bers of the Church to one another. The suffering and death 
 of the Master were essential; not otherwise could the early 
 Church have attained its high spiritual plane of mutual love 
 and devotion and passed on its ideal to future ages. Not only 
 in the history of Christianity, but in the universe everywhere, 
 moral evil is ultimately turned through heroic deeds, often in- 
 volving suffering and sacrifice, to a more perfect harmony than 
 would otherwise have been possible. 
 
 Various objections have been raised against Royce's philoso- 
 phy of religion. It has been urged that if the world is all 
 one in the Absolute, why do many of its features appear so 
 heterogenous and conflicting to us? The answer is that we are 
 finite and our limited ken does not afford a complete under- 
 standing of the pattern of the whole. Objections to the men- 
 talism and panpsychism involved in Royce's account could, the 
 author thinks, be met by purging the general account of these 
 elements, which are not indispensable. For the argument for 
 the existence of God based on the social character of our knowl- 
 edge and the isolation of our finite selves could be substituted 
 the organic and teleological arguments of speculative idealism. 
 
 More serious are the moral objections. Is it morally just 
 to think of God as willing a universe, which, indeed, is all har- 
 monious and glorious to His infinite mind, but at our expense? 
 Is it right that we should suffer all the horrors of the world 
 in order that He may enjoy a universal harmony? In his 
 earlier works Royce assures us that this is right, because God 
 suffers in our suffering and shares it with us. "Were not the 
 Logos our own fulfillment, were he a remote god, were he not 
 our own selves in unity, were he foreign to the harm and to the 
 foolishness of our chaotic lives, we should indeed look to him 
 in vain ; for then his eternal peace would be indifference and 
 cruelty, his perfection would be our despair, his loftiness would 
 be our remote and dismal helplessness. But he is ours, and we 
 are his. He is pierced and wounded for us and in us. Our de- 
 feats are his : and yet, above time, triumphant in the sacred 
 glory of an insight that looks before and after through the 
 endless ages and the innumerable worlds, he somehow finds 
 amidst all these horrors of time his peace, and so ours. 'My 
 
386 . GOD AND EVIL 
 
 peace,' he says, 4 I give unto you ; not as the world giveth, give 
 
 I unto you.' This, then at last, is the true realization of the 
 rapt wonder that the mystics sought. What in time is hope- 
 lessly lost, as attained for him in his eternity," 15. While Royce 
 here is very eloquent, he does not seem quite convincing. It 
 sounds as if he were saying that God suffers when we do in 
 order that He may rejoice when we do not. Such a philosophy 
 ought really to indicate how a man may share in the joy that 
 comes to God from his suffering. Robert Browning saw the 
 answer to this difficulty better than Royce and stated it in the 
 following stanza from Abt Vogler: 
 
 "All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good, shall exist; 
 
 Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor good, nor power 
 Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist 
 
 When eternity affirms the conception of an hour. 
 The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, 
 
 The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, 
 Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard; 
 
 Enough that he heard once: we shall hear it by-and-by." 
 
 Attention is called to the last line, particularly. If finite beings 
 are in some sense participating in the eternal mind of God, 
 it is their destiny to enjoy the eternal symphony too; the world 
 order is vindicated. It is a pleasure to add, that although Royce 
 nowhere in his writings, so far as the author has been able to 
 discover, shows any indication that he realized that the most 
 serious objection to his solution of the problem of evil can be 
 met by the simple postulation of an immortality in which man 
 can become sufficiently identified with God to gain such an 
 insight, occasional passages in his later works suggest that he, 
 as a matter of fact, actually did believe in precisely such a 
 form of immortality. Royce's view of immortality will be dis- 
 cussed in Chapter XXII. 
 
 The conception of God advocated by Royce, in the opinion 
 of the author at least, satisfactorily validates prayer and other 
 forms of religious experience in the respects in which in Part 
 
 II we found them actually to be efficacious. In these experi- 
 ences, if we accept Royce's conception of God, we can say that 
 the individual identifies himself with the thought and will of 
 God. If it is in some degree through gaining the viewpoint 
 of God, the universal Self, that we are able to communicate 
 with each other and know a common world, and if it is through 
 our identity with Him that we can unite in common loyalties, 
 and if it is through our common social experience in the Church 
 
ABSOLUTE IDEALISM 387 
 
 that we have learned to know and appreciate Christ, then surely 
 we must conclude that it is through God that we gain the spirit- 
 ual reinforcement and other benefits afforded us in our religious 
 experiences, 16. 
 
 VIII God and Absolute Idealism 
 
 Royce is generally classified as an absolute idealist, though 
 he puts more emphasis on feeling and will than is ordinarily 
 characteristic of this type of philosophy. It must be admi;t- 
 ted that the views of certain of the other absolute idealists 
 not all of them are less favorable to religion than those of 
 Royce. For instance, it is sometimes asserted that the God of 
 religion and the Absolute of this kind of philosophy are nob 
 identical. The Absolute is then the term given to the Being 
 that is the all inclusive Reality of the world as a whole. All 
 finite beings are "appearances," partial bits of Reality that are 
 true so far as they go, but are full of incoherencies and con- 
 tradictions when assumed to be true in any ultimate sense. All 
 human experience is of these appearances, which differ in the 
 degree to which they approximate Reality. Religion is the 
 very highest of these appearances, with the possible exception 
 of philosophy. Still, religion is an appearance, and not Reality 
 itself. And religion worships God, not the Absolute. For the 
 Absolute, there can be no such thing as a purpose or a want, 
 or a succession in time, or the distinction between good and evil, 
 or a will ; for all such distinctions imply limitations in the mind 
 that experiences them, something to be attained that is not yet 
 possessed. These limitations, to be sure, are painfully present 
 in the life of man, with his finite intelligence, and to some extent 
 he carries these limitations over into his religious conception 
 of God; which, indeed, he probably has to do, in order that 
 through God he may find aid and assurance in overcoming his 
 difficulties. So the idea of a God, who has purposes and over- 
 comes evil by good and comes to human aid, as conceived by 
 religion, is only a finite and human conception formed on the 
 level of appearances, and is not absolutely true. 
 
 At first glance, acceptance of a philosophy that regards 
 God in this way must appear incompatible with continued 
 practice of religion. It must be admitted that such a con- 
 ception of God in distinction from the Absolute is far less 
 satisfactory for religion than Royce's position. However, 
 it must be remembered that writers of this type concede that 
 
388 GOD AND EVIL 
 
 religion moves on one of the very highest orders of appear- 
 ance; that it is closer to Reality than the natural sciences, 
 and that the conceptions with which religion deals possess a 
 higher degree of truth than those of science. Now it certainly 
 seems to follow that if men are justified in bridge building in 
 observing the principles of dynamics principles based upon a 
 lower order of appearance they are also justified in address- 
 ing their prayers to God a conception based on a higher order 
 of appearance. (In saying this it is assumed that these prayers 
 are of the forms found to be efficacious from a psychological 
 standpoint, as analyzed in Chapter XVI). For practical pur- 
 poses such a Being as God can be regarded as existing. The 
 author accordingly believes that there is no reason to conclude 
 that the acceptance of these conceptions of God and the Ab- 
 solute logically render unjustified the belief of the followers 
 of religion in the presence of God in their religious experiences. 
 It seems clearly to follow from this philosophy that, so long as 
 one thinks and acts on the plane of every day life the plane 
 of appearance on which all of us pass most of our time, and all 
 but metaphysicians the whole of it one is justified in such 
 religious beliefs and practices as psychological science finds 
 efficacious, 17. 
 
 IX The Author's Opinions 
 
 Attractive in many ways as is the theory of a God whose 
 relation to the individual in religious experiences is external, 
 the author personally rejects this view, as he feels that the 
 scientific objections to it are too great. He is as strongly 
 prejudiced against the employment of God as an hypothesis 
 to explain facts in the psychology of religion as in any other 
 science. (Cf. page 281 above). He therefore favors the con- 
 ception of an immanent God, who is present in human conscious- 
 ness in religious experiences, but who is not perceived in a 
 manner in any way analogous to that in which we perceive 
 external objects. We are aware of our own selves as organizing 
 factors within our consciousness, not as sensations having 
 reference to parts of our organisms or to external objects. 
 The same is true of God. Like the self, God's relation to us is 
 an internal relation ; we find Him within us. 
 
 While Royce's theory, if the postulate of immortality is made 
 an integral feature of it, may dispose of the problem of evil 
 theoretically, somehow it does not seem quite convincing. On 
 
THE AUTHOR'S OPINIONS 289 
 
 this point, William James, Professor Hobhouse and Dr. Rash- 
 dall are more satisfactory. When we consider how great the 
 imperfections of the world are, and remember that they furnish 
 a difficulty in any case for a teleological explanation, it seems 
 more in accordance with the facts not to claim that the world as 
 a whole is perfect, but merely that there is a teleological 
 principle in it, that tends to be increasingly but not invariably 
 successful. 
 
 To be sure, much that appears to us to be physical evil is 
 really for man's good. Civilization has thrived most in the 
 temperate zones where man has had difficulties to encounter, and 
 not in the localities where temperature and soil afford him no 
 problems at all. And many apparent moral evils are not 
 absolutely so. Human vices can often be shown to be due to the 
 survival of once valuable mental traits under new conditions 
 where they are bad, but where as evolution goes on they are 
 bound in time to be eradicated. The author believes that this is 
 true of alcoholism for in primitive conditions only mild intoxi- 
 cants were known, were not very plentiful, and in promoting con- 
 viviality and good will brought peace and harmony within the 
 social group ; of ^xcessive sexual propensities for in earlier 
 times with a greater death rate more births were necessary, and 
 besides, even today, to sex energy sublimated (i. e., turned 
 into other channels), we owe much of our literature, art, music, 
 and intellectual and athletic activity generally ; and of gam- 
 bling for primitive man had to risk his life constantly in 
 search for food and conflict with his enemies, and he who was 
 willing to venture nothing could gain nothing. And so in many 
 other human frailties pugnacity leading to war, greed and 
 avarice leading to exploitation and profiteering, vain self 
 display leading to prodigal extravagance and wastefulness, 
 envy and jealousy of the more successful leading to the fos- 
 tering of class consciousness and demands for the dictator- 
 ship of the proletariat it would be possible to discover human 
 qualities that with intelligent guidance and further evolution 
 will develop into positive virtues. 
 
 But such considerations do not suggest a world of artistic 
 harmony in which these apparent evils are merely moments 
 in a temporal succession that in its eternal wholeness is per- 
 fection to an Absolute Mind. They rather seem to indicate a 
 universe that is gradually growing better under the guidance 
 of a Power that is working for righteousness through the 
 
390 GOD AND EVIL 
 
 activity of human minds and human wills. With the inspiration 
 of this immanent God working within them, men are rapidly 
 mastering the harsh conditions of their physical environment, 
 gradually achieving mutual love and justice in social organ- 
 izations, and slowly but surely rising to finer heights of individ- 
 ual character. 
 
 No doubt the Divine Power immanent within us, with a wider 
 time span than ours, can see the course of this progress more 
 fully than we, and to such a Being very much that seems un- 
 mitigated evil to us is seen to be tending ultimately in the 
 direction of good. In a future life we may hope to share in 
 this larger insight. 
 
 To the service of this God we owe our fullest loyalty. As 
 we seek our own highest development as individuals and the good 
 of our families and friends, of our churches, our cities, our 
 nation, and humanity, we are serving Him. For we, as individ- 
 uals and as a race, are an organic part of the universe, and the 
 only part with which we come into contact that is capable of 
 forming rational and moral ends. It is only through us human 
 beings (so far as we can judge) that the rational and moral 
 ends of God can be realized upon this particular planet. Ours 
 is a grave responsibility, and a splendid opportunity. The 
 closer our intimacy with Him, the more wholehearted will be 
 our consecration to our tasks, and the stronger will be our wills. 
 Wherefore let us run with courage the race that is set before us, 
 looking unto Him as the author and finisher of our faith. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 *ARTHTTH KENYOX ROGERS, Religious Conception of the World, 
 pp. 231-260. 
 
 *DURAND DRAKE, Problems of Religion, Chapter XIII. 
 *GEOHOE GALLOWAY, Principles of Religious Development, pp. 318-333. 
 *E. C. WILM, Problem of Religion, pp. 50-52; 215-232. 
 WILLIAM ADAMS BKOWX, Christian Theology in Outline, pp. 202-210; 
 Chapters VII-X. 
 
 *ALEXAXDER BALMAIJT BRUCE, Apologetics, pages 58-70. 
 *KAUFMANN KOHI.ER. Jewish Theology, Part I, especially Chapter XXIX. 
 *L. T. HOBHOUSE, Morals in Evolution, 3d ed., pp. 496-503; 634-C37 
 Development and Purpose, Part II, Chapters V, VI. 
 
 BERNARD BOSANQUET, Principle of Individuality and Value, Lecture VIT. 
 Value find Destiny of the Individual, Lecture VII. 
 
 W. R. SORLEY. Moral Values and the Idea of God, pp. 329, f; 401-401; 
 427, f; 469-475; 494-504; 509-526. 
 
 JAMES WARD, The Realm of Ends, Lectures XI, XV-XVII. 
 S. ALEXANDER, Space, Time, and Deity, Vol. II, pp. 273-286; 419-423. 
 *WIT.I.IAM JAMES 
 *JosiAir ROYCE 
 
 *HASTINT,S RASHDALL \- See Notes to this Chapter. 
 F. C. S. SCHILLER 
 *JoiiK STUART MILL 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 GOD AND HUMAN FREEDOM 
 
 THIS chapter will have for its purpose the consideration of 
 the last of the three requirements which we have seen (1) that 
 any satisfactory theory of the nature of God must be able to 
 meet. If in prayer and other religious experiences man receives 
 the support of a Being so powerful as the directing force 
 in the purposive development of the universe must be, how is 
 the fact of His great power to be reconciled with the freedom of 
 the human will, and the moral responsibility of man? 
 
 I Traditional Theism 
 
 For traditional theism, with its doctrine that an omnipotent 
 God created man along with the rest of the universe, this prob- 
 lem took the form of showing how, if God is omnipotent, man's 
 will can be free, so that he is morally responsible for what he 
 does. Christian theists offered various solutions. An extreme 
 position was that of John Calvin and his followers, 2. They 
 insisted unqualifiedly upon the absolute omnipotence and 
 omniscience of God, and were willing to accept the consequence 
 that man's every action was foreseen and willed by God when 
 He created the world, and that it pleased God to decree that 
 certain men whom He elected of His own good pleasure, with- 
 out any merit on their part whatever, should be impelled by 
 the irresistible grace of God to accept Christ and be saved, 
 whereas the rest of mankind were similarly doomed by divine 
 decree not to receive the salvation of Christ and, as a con- 
 sequence, to suffer the pangs of Hell forever. 
 
 The more rigid Calvinists (supralapsarians) went so far as 
 to say that God decreed the sin and fall of man as a means to 
 the ultimate salvation of the elect ; the moderate Calvinists 
 (infralapsarians) said that God did not foreordain, but merely 
 permitted the fall of mankind. Calvinists of both types were 
 relentlessly logical in deducing and accepting the consequences 
 of the doctrines of divine creation, omnipotence, and omni- 
 science. At the same time they always insisted that man fell of 
 
 391 
 
392 GOD AND FREEDOM 
 
 his own free will, and that God is in no manner blameworthy 
 for his fall and present sinful condition. To reconcile the 
 absolutely sovereign power of God with these last assertions, 
 Calvinistic theologians set forth elaborate arguments that 
 were more subtle than convincing. 
 
 In opposition to the Calvinists the Arminians (2) were willing 
 to restrict somewhat the absolute sovereignty of God, in order 
 to give fuller recognition to the freedom of the human will. 
 God, in creating mankind, elected some to salvation and others 
 to reprobation, but only because He foresaw their final faith 
 or disbelief. Every man, of his own free choice accepts or 
 rejects the grace freely offered through the atonement of 
 Christ to all. God has given man this freedom of choice, and 
 He in no way determines his actions. Man's personal respon- 
 sibility is complete. Still, even on this view, to save the divine 
 omniscience, it had to be admitted that God knew, when He 
 created mankind, which men would fall and which would not. 
 Calvinism and Arminianism represent the two opposite poles 
 between which other Protestant solutions of the problem of 
 freedom range. 
 
 The official position of the Roman Catholic Church has been 
 in some respects non-committal, allowing liberty of interpret- 
 ation to the different theological schools within the Church. 
 However, the doctrine of St. Augustine that God has given 
 to all men sufficient grace to permit them to accept of the sal- 
 vation of Christ, but that he has only afforded efficacious 
 grace to His elect, is in some form or other generally agreed 
 upon. As against certain Jansenist heresies, the orthodox 
 Catholic systems maintain, "each in its own peculiar way, that 
 sufficient grace is truly and really sufficient, so that it is 
 intrinsically possible to obey it, although in fact, man never 
 follows its inspiration, and also that it is intrinsically possible 
 not to obey the impulse of efficacious grace ; although such a 
 disobedience will never occur de facto" 3. 
 
 The difficulties that the old theism has had with these prob- 
 lems, have evidently been accentuated by its insistence on the 
 infinite, eternal, and unchangeable nature of a God that is all 
 powerful, all wise, and all good, and who has created all things. 
 The difficulties persist, however, to some degree in any doctrine 
 that maintains the absolute and eternal perfection of God in 
 all respects, no matter if He be regarded as eternally creating 
 the universe instead of having created it at a definite period 
 
FREEDOM IN ETHICS 393 
 
 in time, or even if He be thought of, not as Creator, but simply 
 as the Absolute Mind constituting the rational principle of 
 the world order as a whole. Can these difficulties be solved 
 at all? Is it useless to waste time upon them? Or is it only 
 worth while to discuss them as a pastime, as Milton suggests : 
 
 "Others apart sat on a hill retired, 
 In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high 
 Of providence, foreknowledge, will and fate, 
 Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute, 
 And found no end, in wandering mazes lost." 4. 
 
 One mistake that the old theologies made was to attack tnese 
 problems at the wrong end, to begin with fixed conceptions of 
 God, and from these to deduce the consequences for human 
 beings. Now we know a great deal more about human exper- 
 ience than we do about the nature of God. We can with some 
 degree of confidence analyze the human consciousness and 
 observe the facts there. Surely, knowing far less than God, we 
 should not be warranted in formulating a theory about His 
 nature and His relation to the human will that is not in com- 
 plete agreement with our conclusions regarding the human 
 moral consciousness. Let us, therefore, (1) from the stand- 
 point of ethics, consider what principles can be derived from 
 generally accepted moral conceptions, and see what conclusions 
 about the human will necessarily follow. (2) Next, let us 
 estimate the significance of these conclusions in the light of 
 psychology and the natural sciences. (3) Having thus ascer- 
 tained what human freedom appears to be in our conscious 
 experience as interpreted by ethics, psychology, and naturat~~-4 
 science, we shall be prepared to consider what conceptions of 
 the nature of God will best accord with it. We shall thus be 
 arguing from the known, or at least, the relatively certain, to 
 the less known and more uncertain; an order of investigation 
 that surely is more philosophical and convincing than the de- 
 ductive procedure of traditional dogmatic theism. 
 
 II Freedom In Ethics 
 
 Ethical science is simply a careful examination of the moral 
 judgments of mankind, and of the fundamental principles and 
 implications that underlie them. The author submits the fol- 
 lowing statements as descriptive of the moral opinions usually 
 held, or at least implied, in our judgments of our own moral 
 conduct and that of other men. (1) If an adult human being is 
 sane, he is morally responsible for what he does. A child is 
 
394 GOD AND FREEDOM 
 
 responsible so far as he is mature enough to understand the 
 significance of his actions. In judging the conduct of any one, 
 due allowance must be made for his ignorance of circumstances ; 
 and, if he has acted impetuously and under extreme provocation 
 this must be taken into account. Charity is called for also in 
 passing upon persons handicapped by a bad heredity, or up- 
 bringing in a vicious environment. But the general principle 
 holds that everyone deserves moral approval and condemnation 
 for his conduct, i. e., for all actions that are the result of the 
 normal operation of his mental processes. In moral judgments 
 of our own conduct and that of others, we assume that men are 
 free to the extent that their actions are the outcome of the 
 processes of sane minds acting under ordinary condition:-,. 
 Not only our criminal law, but all the judgments of social 
 approval and condemnation that we pass upon ourselves and 
 others proceed on this basis. This sort of freedom it will be 
 convenient to designate as Psychological Freedom. 
 
 (2) In another sense, no one is really free when he acts 
 wrongly. Theologians have been correct in speaking of "the 
 bondage of sin," and moralists of "the slavery of vice." In 
 this sense, no man is free when he yields to an impelling temp- 
 tation, and does what he knows to be wrong. To be free is to 
 act in accordance with one's true nature as a man, to be loyal 
 to one's ideals., to realize to the full one's capacities. As manjS- 
 a social being, this means that his freedom is ordinarily Tound 
 in adapting himself to the social order about him, and realiz- 
 ing his capacities within it, by making his contribution to the 
 common good and receiving in return the aid and good will of 
 others. In some circumstances, however, a man may identify 
 himself with, and so seek his freedom in, a social order that 
 from his point of view is superior to that immediately about 
 him. A professional man or scientific investigator may prefer 
 the approval of his fellow specialists who alone can understand 
 and evaluate what he is doing. The Stoics thought of them- 
 selves as "citizens of the universe," and the early Christians 
 found their citizenship "in heaven." 
 
 Freedom in this sense is every one's right, meaning that 
 everyone has a claim upon the social order for a fair opportun- 
 ity to make the most of himself in service of the common good. 
 But this kind of freedom, after all, is something that one must 
 achieve for oneself. A man gains freedom in successful work 
 in his profession; as he becomes efficient in serving others he 
 
PSYCHOLOGY 395 
 
 serves himself. In a similar way he gains freedom in the family 
 as a good husband and father: in the state, as a good citizen 
 who exercises a deserved influence with his fellow citizens and 
 wins their confidence; in the church or synagogue, as a parti- 
 cipant in and contributor to its spiritual life and its consecra- 
 tion to God. In this sense no one, of course, is absolutely free ; 
 for every individual has moral imperfections of some kind or 
 other, and no social order is perfect in either the ideals that 
 it sets before its members or the opportunities it is able to afford 
 them for self-realization. But to the extent that individual 
 men and groups of men are successful in achieving moral 
 worth, they are free. This type of freedom we may call 
 Ethical Freedom. 
 
 Now is it not reasonable to suppose that our moral judg- 
 ments probably correctly interpret human freedom and human 
 responsibility? Society has developed on the basis of these 
 assumptions. They underlie our laws and institutions. They 
 form the basis of our personal estimates of our own conduct 
 and of other men. These judgments meet the pragmatic test; 
 they have worked. Society, by acting upon them, has been able to 
 maintain order, to afford opportunity for men to cooperate 
 with one another, and for civilization to advance. Man could 
 hardly have been successful if in his moral judgments he had 
 been acting upon delusions regarding his own nature and 
 capacities. It therefore follows that psychologists and natural 
 scientists must recognize psychological freedom and moral re- 
 sponsibility as descriptive of the will of the ordinary human 
 being, and ethical freedom as an ideal of which man is not only 
 able to conceive but also to make more or less successful efforts 
 to attain. These, then, are facts which a reasonable psychol- 
 ogy cannot challenge, but must accept and interpret. 
 
 Ill Psychology and the Natural Sciences 
 
 Most of the actions that a person performs in the course 
 of a day are mere matters of routine ; they do not involve delib- 
 eration and choice. They therefore do not raise the question 
 of the freedom of the will. All psychologists are agreed that 
 nine-tenths of conscious human actions can be accounted for 
 in accordance with the laws of reflex action, instinct, and habit. 
 It TiiF only in respect to the comparatively few instances in 
 which conscious selection is made between two or more possible 
 acts that the problem enters. 
 
396 GOD AND FREEDOM 
 
 If then, our acts are ever undetermined, it is in cases where 
 conflicting ideas are present in the mind at the same time. 
 Now suppose two such conflicting ideas are present say going 
 to the movie show versus staying in one's room and studying 
 which will be acted upon? This, psychologists tell us, is a 
 question of attention. If, when the thought of the movie en- 
 ters consciousness, the idea of tomorrow's recitation slips out 
 of attention altogether, one will forthwith start for the movie 
 theatre. If, on the contrary, attractive as the thought of the 
 rnovie is, and dry and disagreeable as is tomorrow's logic les- 
 son, in the end thoughts of the unpleasant consequences of 
 failure in the recitation, and of the importance of the course, 
 in logic as a part of one's liberal education hold the attention 
 exclusively, all thought of the movies may slip out of con- 
 sciousness entirely, and one may become completely absorbed 
 in the treatise on logic. 
 
 The question resolves itself, accordingly, into a question of 
 the nature of attention. In most cases, attention is spontane- 
 ous, as it moves without effort from one topic to another. How- 
 ever, in some instances, attention wavers between two objects; 
 in these cases a conscious voluntary effort may be exercised 
 in favor of one of them. If the effort is successful, one may 
 no longer be disturbed by the playing of a mandolin in the 
 next room, or by subsequent thoughts of the movie show, and 
 the principles of logic become all absorbing; there is no longer 
 a conflict of ideas and impulses, and voluntary attention has 
 been replaced by spontaneous attention. If the effort is un- 
 successful, one may presently become oblivious of the logic 
 lesson and become absorbed in the mandolin music, or find one- 
 self walking down stairs on the way to the movie theatre ; in 
 this case involuntary attention has given place to spontaneous 
 attention. Or attention may fluctuate ; by effort one attends to 
 the logic for a few moments, and then his attention is again 
 diverted by the rival idea; by effort it is again concentrated 
 upon the logic, only again to wander. Experimental psycho- 
 logists say that voluntary attention is possible only for a few 
 seconds at a time; the topic must then unfold itself and claim 
 spontaneous attention or the mind will wander. It is obvious 
 that the successfulness of effort on any given occasion will 
 depend to a considerable extent upon past choices. One who 
 in the past has kept before his mind the purposes of a college 
 education does not have a serious struggle to study when he 
 
PSYCHOLOGY 397 
 
 ought to do so ; one who has previously succumbed to every 
 pleasing distraction finds it almost impossible to concentrate 
 his attention upon any difficult intellectual task. 
 
 The issue between psychologists who are determinists and 
 those who are indeterminists is whether, in cases of effort and 
 conscious choice, the person's decision is absolutely or only in 
 large measure determined by the constitution of his mind and 
 nervous system and his past choices ; the determinists believing 
 that it is absolutely determined, while the indeterminists think 
 that there enters an element of chance, so that the person's 
 free choice, undetermined by the past, is able to tip the scales 
 between two nearly balanced motives. This free choice is exer- 
 cised during the few seconds of voluntary attention. By con- 
 sistently, in every case of conflict between nearly balanced 
 motives, deciding in favor of virtue one man may ultimately 
 become a moral hero of invincible will, whereas another who 
 invariably succumbs to temptations may ultimately become 
 vreak and dissolute. 
 
 Psychologists admit that it is unlikely that it will ever be 
 possible to devise experiments that will absolutely settle this 
 question. Never will it be possible to calculate the precise 
 amount of nervous energy stored up in the various brain cells, 
 and decide whether a subsequent action is a mathematical re- 
 sultant, or whether an almost infmitesimally small unphysical 
 force has entered in, and played a decisive role. So prefer- 
 ence must be given to whichever theory appears most reason- 
 able. William James (5) decided in favor of indeterminism ; he 
 believed that the phenomenon of effort involves a novel factor 
 that enters into conscious processes and that cannot be account- 
 ed for by psychology. Professor William McDougall has tak- 
 en issue with James, and contends that the presence of effort 
 can probably be attributed to the operation of sentiments that 
 have developed about the self in accordance with psychological 
 principles, which he describes. 
 
 The fact that the natural sciences everywhere maintain the 
 doctrine of uniform and necessary causation has led most psy- 
 chologists to favor determinism. They wish psychology to 
 become as exact as natural sciences now are. To admit an 
 undetermined factor appears to them utterly contrary to the 
 spirit of science. However, not all philosophers, not even all 
 of them who are most familiar with the natural sciences, are 
 willing to agree unqualifiedly to the absolute uniformity of nat- 
 
398 GOD AND FREEDOM 
 
 ural laws. James believes that an element of chance enters not 
 only into human volition, but also into the very nature of the 
 universe, a doctrine that he called "tychism," 7. 
 
 Professor James Ward, another philosopher well grounded 
 in science, in his Realm of Ends has called attention to the 
 fact that the statistician in the field of economics is able to 
 tabulate averages that appear to be constant, although he 
 knows that the conditions that give his averages vary consid- 
 erably among the different individual cases. In the natural 
 sciences, on the other hand, the peculiar conditions that under- 
 lie particular cases are unknown to him, so he assumes abso- 
 lute uniformity. So Professor Ward believes in a certain 
 amount of "contingency" in nature. It is indeed possible to 
 claim that the absolute uniformity of nature is an unproved 
 assumption, which, though justifiable for the purposes of nat- 
 ural sciences, is not absolutely true. Such laws as inertia and 
 gravity do not literally describe the facts as we actually see 
 them before us in every day life ; they can only be made to 
 work out in the artificial conditions of the laboratory ; they are 
 formulations of the tendencies that matter assumes on the 
 average. Statistics show that about so many people die every 
 year of each of various diseases, that about so many are born, 
 about so many marry, and so on. Yet the circumstances sur- 
 rounding each death, birth and marriage are more or less dis- 
 tinctive. The so-called uniformities of the exact sciences are 
 of the same general character, and ignore the differences. 
 Dr. F. C. S. Schiller points out that in physical and chemical 
 experiments, millions of atoms are being dealt with at the same 
 time. "The least speck visible under the microscope is com- 
 posed of atoms by the million. Consequently the regularity 
 we observe may very well be that of an average." If individ- 
 ual atoms exercise choice we should never be able to observe it ; 
 dealing as we must only with millions at a time we could only 
 observe general averages, 8. 
 
 So Professor Ward and Dr. Schiller, like James, believe that 
 there is a contingent element in nature. The future is never 
 absolutely determined by the past: that is why prophecy is so 
 difficult. Once an event has taken place, either in the life of 
 a nation or of a great man, historians and biographers can 
 set to work and explain the causes why the event occurred in 
 precisely the way that it did. But historians and biographers, 
 able though they are to point out factors that will influence 
 
DETERMINISM 899 
 
 the future decision of a nation or a man, can seldom predict 
 events with certainty: that is because a contingent element, 
 always enters human affairs; this is the element of choice and 
 free will. Only after the event, when the choice has been made, 
 is it possible to look at it retrospectively and argue that it was 
 bound to happen in that way. 
 
 We see, then, that while the tendency both in psychology 
 and in natural science is in favor of absolute uniformity of 
 laws and determinism, the opposite position is perfectly ten- 
 able, so far as present knowledge goes, and that it is held by 
 some authorities of high repute. 
 
 IV Determinism and Indeterminism 
 
 Undoubtedly the chief influences that have led many thinkers 
 to favor indeterminism have been ethical considerations. We 
 constantly assume psychological freedom and moral respon- 
 sibility. Nothing can be more certain than that these exist. 
 To believe the contrary would subvert morality; it would lead 
 men to think that they could never act otherwise than they do, 
 that they are mere creatures of necessity. It is right to hold 
 men morally responsible for their deeds, just because they 
 could have acted otherwise if they had chosen to do so. If 
 we punish wrongdoers by law when necessary, and by the 
 condemnation of public opinion when that is enough, they will 
 remember, and act differently next time. Others who are 
 tempted will be deterred by fear of like punishments. Every 
 young man is the architect of his own fortune, and by his 
 separate choices makes his character what it ultimately be- 
 comes when by middle life he is more largely a creature of 
 habit. 
 
 The author believes that he has given a brief, but so far as 
 it goes, an accurate statement of what indeterminists really 
 mean by their doctrine. They do not deny that a man's actions 
 are for the most part determined by his present character, or 
 that the latter is the result of his past life. Caricatures of 
 the position, made by its opponents, often misrepresent it. 
 Thus James complains that John Fiske caricatures indeterm- 
 inism when he says, if it were true, that in the case of a murder 
 we should have no more reason for suspecting the worst enemy 
 than the best friend of the murdered man, that the mother 
 might strangle her first born child, and the miser cast his treas- 
 
400 GOD AND FREEDOM 
 
 ure into the sea. Fiske, here, James says, does not distinguish 
 between the "possibles which really tempt a man and those 
 which tempt him not at all. Free will [i. e,, indeterminism] like 
 psychology, deals with the former alternatives exclusively," 9. 
 What James means, of course, is that any man's character is 
 sufficiently fixed by his past so that some possible courses of 
 action will not tempt him at all, whereas his character in other 
 respects is not absolutely fixed and different alternatives do 
 appeal to him, between which he is actually free to make a 
 choice. According to the way his choices are made his char- 
 acter becomes set, and the plane from which future choices can 
 be made will be different. 
 
 While ethical considerations are thought by many psycho- 
 logists and philosophers to favor indeterminism, probably the 
 majority are determinists. Moral responsibility and psycho- 
 logical freedom, they say, are entirely compatible with deter- 
 minism, because it is your own personality that determines your 
 actions, 10. This frees determinism from the objections of fatal- 
 ism, which is altogether different. You are your personality ; 
 it is impossible to distinguish between you and yourself. On 
 the other hand, it is objected that according to the indeter- 
 minist view, it is not you, yourself, your personality as you know 
 yourself and as others know you, that altogether determines 
 what you do. There intrudes some strange, unaccountable 
 element of chance, that inclines the beam and makes the choice 
 between nearly equally balanced motives ; this element cannot be 
 your character, the outgrowth of your past conduct for your 
 character, the indeterminist admits, is fixed when a given action 
 is performed but some weird outside force that is unaccount- 
 able. It seems absurd that you should be held responsible for 
 this unaccountable factor that is not yourself; to punish you 
 for its actions could only be actuated by immoral anger, since 
 no one can predict how this punishment will affect this unknown 
 factor in the future. Just so far as an unknown element is 
 admitted into the process of volition, moral responsibility is 
 .weakened. (On the other hand, if, as the determinist claims, a 
 man's conduct is wholly the outcome of his own character, he 
 can rightly be judged and praised or condemned. A just re- 
 quital will have a salutary effect upon his character, and im- 
 prove his conduct for the future. The determinist father might 
 ;ay to his small son, "I know you couldn't help running away 
 . from school today, but I am going to give you such a good 
 
DETERMINISM 401 
 
 whipping that the memory of it will prevent you from feeling 
 any inclination to run away next time." In a similar way the 
 punishments of the state (in humane institutions where some 
 measure of self government is allowed the inmates) should so 
 reform the personalities of wrong doers that when they are 
 discharged they will be good citizens. 
 
 One of the reasons why determinism has appeared objec- 
 tionable to many is due, it is urged, to a misunderstanding of 
 what it really means. It is necessary to recognize the distinc- 
 tion between mechanical determination and ideological determ- 
 mation.,. Inorganic objects are mechanically determined. A 
 particle of matter is bound to move in a certain direction as a 
 resultant of physical forces. Now, as we saw in Chapter 
 XVIII, even the behavior of plants and lowly animals is de- 
 termined largely by the whole and part relation ; even their 
 actions are not wholly due to mechanical determination. In 
 case of man, who can- remember, imagine, and reason, considera- 
 tions of past experience and future possibilities play a part 
 in the mental processes that effect his decisions ; his choices 
 are by no means mechanical. They are teleological. His pur- 
 poses determine his conduct. These purposes have developed 
 from his past decisions ; and on them as a basis his future plans ] 
 and ideals will develop. Man is not like a clod. His conduct 
 is not a mere resultant of the physical forces surrounding him 
 at the moment in space. Thoughts of past experiences in dis- 
 tant places, purposes whose fruition will not come until a later 
 time in a different environment may influence a man in his deci- 
 sions. A man may have in thought the conditions that will sur- 
 round his family years after he will be in his grave, as he makes 
 his testament; a statesman may plan for future generations 
 of his nation ; the purpose of the founder of a religious move- 
 ment may include all mankind in ages to come. 
 
 The determinist therefore urges that to say that a man's 
 actions are determined by the contents of his consciousness, 
 including his moral purposes and ideals, sufficiently recognizes 
 psychological freedom and moral responsibility, and gives a 
 satisfactory basis for ethics. He maintains that it is both 
 unnecessary and undesirable to introduce any factor into the 
 process that cannot be rationally explained and scientifically 
 accounted for. 
 
 The reader is free to make his choice between indeterminism 
 and determinism. Both recognize the principles of psycholog- 
 
402 GOD AND FREEDOM 
 
 ical freedom and moral responsibility, though their explana- 
 tions are somewhat different. Both are compatible with what 
 was said regarding ethical freedom. We are now ready to 
 return to considerations of the nature of God in relation to 
 human freedom, 11. 
 
 V Indeterminism and God 
 
 Following the precedent of the previous chapter, we shall 
 center the discussion of the nature of God in relation to human 
 freedom about the philosophical positions of William James 
 and Josiah Royce who will respectively serve as representatives 
 of indeterminism and determinism. 
 
 James, as we have seen, believed in a finite God, with whom 
 we ought to cooperate, and he believed that if we do so, we shall 
 be able to make the universe better. It seemed- to James that if 
 the universe really were already perfect and complete in an ab- 
 solute and eternal sense, to the mind of God, that there would 
 be nothing of consequence for us to do. On the contrary, he 
 earnestly believed that there is much in the world for us to do, 
 and that the facts of psychological freedom and moral respon- 
 sibility, necessarily imply that the universe is imperfect and 
 incomplete. We are free to cooperate with God or not as we 
 choose, in the indeterministic sense ; the choice is before us, with 
 the implied opportunity and responsibility. 
 
 This opposition is logically connected with two other fea- 
 tures of James' philosophy, pluralism and tychism. Most phil- 
 osophers have always been monists, and have believed that the 
 world is one, a coherent and organized whole, whose processes 
 go on in accordance with uniform and rational principles, and 
 whose parts are closely connected and interrelated from what- 
 ever standpoint one can consider them. Monists in conse- 
 quence are determinists. When monists have believed in a God, 
 whether as external to finite individuals, or as immanent in 
 them, or both, they have thought of the uniform and rational 
 principles of the world order as expressions of the divine Mind 
 or Will. James, however, believed that such conceptions make 
 man a mere puppet of cosmic processes, with no opportunity 
 to exercise any personal choice or initiative of his own. Mon- 
 istic philosophies, he thought, are paralyzing to human faith 
 and enthusiasm, and lead to passive acquiescence in things as 
 they are, combined perhaps with narcotising assurance that 
 
INDETERMINISM 403 
 
 all, as it is, is for the best in an eternal harmony enjoyed by 
 God. 
 
 In opposition to monism, therefore, James was a pluralist, 
 and believed that the universe consists of countless individual 
 persons and things. These, to be sure, are interrelated so as 
 to constitute a world that is one in several respects: e. g., as a 
 subject of discourse, we can talk of "the universe;" it is con- 
 tinuous in space and time; it is subject to continuous lines of 
 influence, like gravity and heat conduction; men are conjoined 
 in a vast network of acquaintanceship, and an enormous num- 
 ber of things in the world serve a common purpose. But the 
 acquaintanceship is incomplete ; not everyone knows everyone 
 else; and there are frequent clashes of purposes and conflicting 
 interests in the world. Aesthetic union, like teleological union, 
 is also quite incomplete. The world is imperfectly unified. 
 Our freedom' affords us the opportunity to assist in making it 
 better organized and more harmonious than it now is. 
 
 By tychism, James meant that there actually enters an ele- 
 ment of chance or novelty, both in our own minds and in the 
 universe. For James the mind of an individual is a "stream 
 of consciousness" in which, as in a river, the contents are in 
 constant change. In- conscious choices made with effort a novel 
 factor, undetermined by one's past life, enters in and effects 
 the decision ; in the universe as a whole, the decisions of finite 
 wills are a novel element, also, unconditioned in any way by the 
 rest of the world. "Our sense of 'freedom' supposes that some 
 things at least are decided here and now, that the passing 
 moment may contain some novelty, be an original starting 
 point of events, and not merely transmit a push from some- 
 where else," 12. James never worked out his doctrines of 
 pluralism, tychism, and meliorism fully, in their relation with 
 his conception of a finite God, but they all clearly imply that 
 God has no absolute control over the conflicting factors in the 
 universe, nor over the unconditional novelties that keep appear- 
 ing, but that the universe is plastic, and can be rendered better 
 than it now is by the united efforts of God and men. 
 
 A passage by Dr. F. C. S. Schiller offers an indeterministic 
 explanation why the processes of nature appear to us to pro- 
 ceed by mechanical necessity instead of as the free acts of God. 
 Individual human beings overcome faults and meet difficulties 
 by habits formed of their free choice. These habits become 
 matters of routine. Man is freer, however, by having formed 
 
4-04 GOD AND FREEDOM 
 
 them. They enable him to give his attention to other choices. 
 Now God, as a Being higher and more perfect than man, is 
 doubtless more often than man able to meet His ends by habits 
 He has already formed, methods of routine, which He by em- 
 ploying is more free than He would be without them. These 
 methods of divine action, which accordingly appear to us uni- 
 form and regular are readily mistaken by us for mechanical 
 necessity, 13. 
 
 Other pluralistic defenders of the conception of God usually 
 are reluctant to press His finitude so far as James does, or to 
 admit, to as large an extent at least, that the universe contains 
 collisions between warring elements and personalities. Profes- 
 sor Ward, for instance, would not. He indeed concedes that 
 there must be a certain amount of contingency in the world in 
 order to make it a truly advancing and developing universe, 
 in which men have freedom of initiative, and to satisfy these 
 requirements he is willing to limit the complete foreknowledge 
 of God. God would not really be so great as He is, if He did 
 not allow free agencies to exist along with Him. A divine 
 creative love could not be satisfied with- creatures that acted 
 like machines. God had to create men as free agents. "But 
 it does not follow that with a world of such free agents God 
 will always or ever be liable to surprises. It implies that he 
 will always be interested; indeed he could not be a God of love 
 if he were not." Yet the continuity between the actual and the 
 possible and his complete knowledge of both make his main 
 purpose secure; to use Martineau's words, "we cannot defeat 
 his aim, but can only vary the track," 14. This reminds one of 
 James' earlier view, when he made the famous comparison of 
 God to an expert chess player engaged in a game with a novice. 
 "The expert intends to beat. But he cannot foresee what any 
 one actual move of his adversary may be. He knows, however, 
 all the possible moves of the latter ; and he knows in advance 
 how to meet each of them by a move of his own which leads in 
 the direction of victory," 15. 
 
 The motive that actuates interpretations of the relation be- 
 tween God and men along the lines of pluralism and indeterm- 
 inism is to assure man freedom of choice and moral responsi- 
 bility. Such interpretations differ with one another in the 
 degree to which they find it necessary to assume that God is 
 limited, in order to make room for human uniqueness, freedom, 
 and initiative. If such an interpretation were to limit the 
 
JOSIAH ROYCE 405 
 
 power of God to so great an extent that His ability to assist 
 men would appear so slight that men would lose confidence in 
 the efficacy of divine assistance through prayer and other forms 
 of religious experience, this would be disastrous to religious 
 faith. But none of the interpretations of the indeterminists 
 to which reference has been made go so far as that. Conse- 
 quently there appears to be no serious objection to indeterm- 
 inism, so far as the needs of a liberal religious faith are con- 
 cerned. 
 
 On philosophical grounds, however, pluralistic and indeter- 
 ministic interpretations of the relationship between God and men 
 are open to serious difficulties. Indeterminism is claimed by 
 its opponents to be unable to locate moral responsibility for 
 the individual will when this is attributed to something that 
 is not the person's own character. James' type of pluralism is 
 likewise charged with being unable to locate the factors in the 
 universe that can bring about more perfect harmony and co- 
 operation between the different parts of the universe, includ- 
 ing God and men, when it attributes these factors to caprice, 
 chance, or to something else that is unexplainable and irra- 
 tional. Such a pluralism as Professor Ward's, (which does not 
 so largely limit the knowledge and power of God, as that of 
 James) assures us that God will realize His own ends ultim- 
 ately, whatever we do. If that is the case, it may be asked, 
 what does our slight freedom amount to, anyway? How does 
 such a view afford any real advantage over complete determ- 
 inism? To the extent that pluralistic systems recognize the 
 power, wisdom and knowledge of God and the presence of uni- 
 form principles of causation, purpose, and harmony in the 
 universe they approach monism, with its advantages and ob- 
 jections. Whether these criticisms outweigh the advantages 
 in pluralism and indeterminism with respect to this problem, 
 the reader can decide for himself, after he has considered the 
 rival position represented by Royce, 16. 
 
 VI Royce's Conception of Freedom and the Absolute 
 
 As we saw in the preceding chapter, for Royce the universe 
 is experienced by the Absolute Mind, (1) as a series of events 
 that follow one another in time in the experiences of the vari- 
 ous finite beings, and (2) on account of an all embracing time 
 span, as an eternally completed and absolutely perfect and 
 harmonious whole. Each finite self such as yours or mine 
 
406 GOD AND FREEDOM 
 
 is unique; it has a value of its own for the Absolute, and the 
 perfection of the whole which He experiences is a resultant of 
 the contributions furnished by each such self; just as in a 
 musical composition the harmony of the whole is a resultant 
 of the various separate notes. So each of us has a value and 
 a purpose that is peculiar, and gives worth to our individuality. 
 God eternally wills the universe as a whole; He therefore wills 
 each of us as an essential and valuable part of this whole. We 
 therefore in our separate personalities share in this whole. Our 
 ethical freedom consists in consciously identifying ourselves 
 with this whole, that is, with the purposes of the Absolute. If 
 we refuse so to identify ourselves with God, we shall do no harm 
 to Him, or His universal harmony ; He will in some manner 
 atone for our evil deeds and turn them into good from the 
 eternal point of view; in fact, in a sense He has already done 
 so, since His perception and valuation of the world order is 
 eternal. For us, however, and other human beings acting and 
 living in the temporal order, our evil acts of disloyalty bring 
 suffering, and prevent the attainment of ethical freedom. Our 
 true nature is expressed only in conformity to the divine will, 
 which is our will, too, since we are parts of the universal pur- 
 pose, but if in our ignorance we fail to perceive that only in 
 His service is perfect freedom found, we do not gain ethical 
 freedom. 
 
 The emphasis in Royce's account is on ethical freedom, as 
 an ideal to be realized by being faithful to our tasks, by being 
 loyal to those causes to which we are peculiarly fitted to be 
 of service, and by so coming in some measure to appreciate, 
 within the limits of our finitude, the universal harmony to which 
 we are contributing. Royce's treatment implies that we are 
 psychologically free, in that our actions are determined by our 
 own mental processes, and that we are morally responsible for 
 them. Failure to recognize where duty lies and the path to- 
 ward ethical freedom is due to lack of attention to the duties 
 and opportunities that lie immediately before us, and we are 
 morally blamable for this lack of attention, 17. Royce's thought 
 here is quite along the line of the Christian conception that 
 only in the service of God is perfect freedom to be found, and 
 of Tennyson's "Our wills are ours to make them Thine," 18. 
 
 To be sure, Royce says that only in the eternal mind of God 
 is this ideal of the unique value and freedom of each individual 
 fully realized. For us, it must be purely an ideal. As finite 
 
THE AUTHOR'S OPINIONS 40T 
 
 individuals in time our selves are subject to external conditions, 
 heredity, physical and social environment. So, in time, the 
 finite self appears as "a product, a result, a determined crea- 
 ture of destiny," 19. Except in so far "as your life becomes 
 for you your own way of viewing your relation to the whole, 
 and of actively expressing our own ideal regarding this rela- 
 tion," your life is derived from external conditions. But this, 
 "your own way of expressing God's will is not derived. It is 
 yourself. And it is yours because God worketh in you," 20. 
 In so far as we consciously identify ourselves with the divine 
 purpose, we are free ; otherwise not. 
 
 Royce is thus a determinist, in so far as events in the temp- 
 oral order are concerned, while at the same time he implies that 
 by attention to the calls of duty and loyalty and by conscious- 
 ness of our unique worth as individuals we can in some meas- 
 ure rise above the temporal order and identify ourselves with 
 the eternal, and thus become conscious of our freedom. This 
 is not gained, however, through a form of mysticism implying 
 detachment or retreat from social relationships, but through 
 active service and devotion to the tasks in life which we are 
 peculiarly fitted to fill. "The unity of the world is not an 
 ocean in which we are lost, but a life which is, and which needs 
 all our lives in one," 21. In the various ethical religions of the 
 world, certain facts are portrayed, "which may be called the 
 creed of the Absolute Religion," and which Royce gives in 
 italics toward the close of his Philosophy of Loyalty, 22 : "First 
 the rational unity and goodness of the world life; next, its 
 true but invisible nearness to us, despite our ignorance; fur- 
 ther, its fulness of meaning despite our barrenness of present 
 experience; and yet more, its interest in our personal destiny 
 as moral beings; and finally, the certainty that, through our 
 actual human loyalty, we come, like Moses, face to face with 
 the true will of the world, as a man speaks to his friend," 23. 
 
 VII The Author's Opinions 
 
 There are several propositions which, it seems to the 
 author, a theory of the freedom of the human will in relation 
 to the divine will should recognize. These are: (1) Psycho- 
 logical freedom and moral responsibility are unquestionable 
 facts of human experience. (2) Ethical freedom is a work- 
 able ideal, which men can in large measure make a reality by 
 
408 GOD AND FREEDOM 
 
 their efforts. (3) Acceptance of such a God as is affirmed by 
 modern Christian and Jewish thought, whether liberal or con- 
 servative, implies that the ethical freedom of a human being 
 is gained by conscious cooperation with the will of God. Only 
 in His service can there be perfect freedom. (4) It is an out- 
 standing fact in human experience that the will of no human 
 being at the present time is completely consistent and coher- 
 ent; even men with the strongest characters experience at 
 times within themselves struggles between conflicting impulses. 
 (5) The wills of no group of human beings are completely 
 in accord, whether these persons constitute a family, a church, 
 a city, or a nation. The social will of any group is subject to 
 struggles between conflicting elements. (6) The will of no 
 group of human beings works in perfect harmony with the 
 wills of other groups. (7) Ethical freedom, therefore, whether 
 of any individual human- being, or any group of human beings, 
 has not yet been completely realized. At the same time, the 
 history of moral and social evolution, as well as the study of 
 individual and social psychology, make it evident that increas- 
 ing coherence and unity of purpose are being effected both in 
 the wills of individuals and in those of groups of mankind, 24. 
 
 As has been indicated in previous chapters, the telelogical 
 and other evidence seems to the author to suggest, not a com- 
 pletely purposive universe, but one in which there is an Increas- 
 ing amount of purposiveness in the order of nature and evolu- 
 tion. This appears to indicate the presence of a Purposer, 
 (i. e., God) immeasurably greater than ourselves, but still fin- 
 ite, who is gradually overcoming limitations and achieving 
 ends. In the evolution of the earth, the divinely directed tele- 
 ological process has resulted in the appearance of men, ration- 
 al beings who consciously form purposes of their own and 
 succeed in some measure in carrying them out. Men, being 
 consciously teleological, may in this respect be said to be incar- 
 nations of God, to be formed in the image of God ; this enables 
 them to cooperate consciously in His purposes. As Royce 
 suggests, this cooperation is effected by men being loyal to 
 the ideals that they are able to form ideals that of course 
 must be social. 
 
 The will of the human being is subject to what has been 
 called teleological determinism i. e., while it is the outcome 
 of heredity and physical and social environment, it also forms 
 and achieves ends through the employment cf memory, imag- 
 
THE AUTHOR'S OPINIONS 409 
 
 ination, and reasoning, so that its determination is quite differ- 
 ent^ffbm the mechanical determination of material objects. 
 
 The purposes and will of no human being are wholly con- 
 sistent with one another, nor with those of other human beings. 
 That is another way of saying that ethical freedom is an ideal 
 which has not yet been perfectly attained, either by individuals 
 or by the social order. But every individual man gains increas- 
 ing ethical freedom to the extent that his purposes become 
 united into a consistent plan of life ; and social groups are 
 gradually learning through better forms of association in 
 families, churches and synagogues, cities, nations, international 
 agreements, etc. to bring their purposes together into a more 
 nearly unified whole. The teleological evidence, when balanced 
 with that for dysteleology, suggests that the situation of God 
 is similar, though of course, on an immeasurably more exalted 
 plane. We can hardly suppose that the purposes of God are 
 fully worked out in His own mind; doubtless they are grad- 
 ually becoming better organized and perfected. Nor has He 
 yet succeeded in gaining the complete cooperation and undivid- 
 ed loyalty of the other conscious beings in the universe. As 
 men grow in moral and religious insight, their wills are becom- 
 ing better harmonized with God's will. We, as conscious ra- 
 tional beings, are a partial expression of the purposing efforts 
 of God. Through our cooperation He hopes to achieve great 
 ends. To some extent He doubtless can use us against our 
 consent, and in some ways He can atone for our misdeeds, as 
 Royce suggests. But He can use us to much better advantage 
 for our ultimate good which is one with His own, if we commit 
 our ways to Him in complete loyalty to the ideals that we have 
 thus far learned to know. We already enjoy psychological 
 freedom and moral responsibility. Through identification of 
 our wills with His will, i. e., through loyalty to our tasks and 
 opportunities we can gain ethical freedom. 
 
 Whether the author's view should be classified as a form of 
 determinism or of indeterminism, let others decide. The author 7 
 merely insists that it is not indeterminism in so far as the latter 
 recognizes chance or contingency in either the human will, the S 
 divine will, or physical nature ; and that it is not mechanical 
 determination or predestination, or fatalism of any sort. The " 
 author maintains that growth is made possible by the teleolog- 
 ical determination which he believes to be characteristic both 
 of the human will and of the divine will. The future is an en- 
 
410 GOD AND FREEDOM 
 
 largement of the past, both for us and for God. This is a 
 "melioristic universe" to use James' phrase, for all the ration- 
 ally conscious beings in it. Our wills are not at present com- 
 pletely determined by the will of God. Our wills are too often 
 painfully at variance both with our selves, and those of other 
 men, to be completely determined by a Universal Will. Per- 
 haps God voluntarily limited Himself in the evolution of men 
 with wills partially independent of His will, because He fore- 
 saw that He could accomplish more through cooperation of 
 such beings. Possibly there was no other way in which He 
 could bring men into existence in a universe that is only par- 
 tially under His control. 
 
 The author supposes that his view should be classified as 
 pluralistic rather than monistic. He is not ready to affirm, 
 however, that a pluralistic universe is ideally better than a 
 monistic one; possibly so, possibly not. Perhaps, as James at 
 times seems to have thought, the universe is gradually evolv- 
 ing into a teleological unity. Perhaps it will ultimately be- 
 come what Royce believed it to be now. But there is 
 too much evil in our human experience both physical and 
 moral and the wills that we know clash altogether too often 
 and too fiercely, to give us hope that the Roycean conception 
 will become reality for countless aeons to come. And it is by 
 no means certain that we ought to desire that Royce's Abso- 
 lute should ever become a reality. Perhaps it will be better 
 that, throughout all the aeons of aeons, there should be an 
 increasing growth of purposes, and such development may for- 
 ever (as now) involve conflicts between clashing wills. A uni- 
 verse of static perfection might grow stale for God and men 
 alike. Struggles terminating in the attainment of ever higher 
 planes of cooperation, justice, love, and beauty, may forever 
 take place in a universe destined never wholly to become, but 
 eternally to progress toward, absolute perfection. 
 
 VIII Conclusion 
 
 It will be well to summarize briefly the outcome of this and 
 the preceding chapter. Part II has already shown us that 
 prayer and the other religious experiences are efficacious (with- 
 in the limits there indicated). The net result of the evidence 
 in Chapter XIX is favorable to the belief that in some sense 
 there actually is a God operative in these experiences. The 
 existence of evil raises no insuperable difficulty to belief in God ; 
 
CONCLUSION 411 
 
 it can be explained in different ways, according to which con- 
 ception of the nature of God is accepted. The same is true 
 of the freedom of the human will. Entirely apart from ques- 
 tions about God, the ethical experience of everyday life obliges 
 us to conclude that psychological freedom and moral respon- 
 sibility are facts, and that ethical freedom is a workable and 
 partially attainable ideal. These conclusions can be inter- 
 preted fairly successfully, alike by theories of determinism 
 and indeterminism, monism and pluralism. None of these the- 
 ories, to be sure, explain all the difficulties completely. But 
 all explain them sufficiently, so that one can conclude that, 
 whichever of them is nearest to truth, there is no reason to 
 doubt our personal freedom and responsibility. Nor is there 
 reason to doubt our power to receive aid from God in prayer 
 and other religious experiences in the endeavor to live loyally 
 for Him, to be of service to others, and to realize our own 
 capacities. 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 *W. G. EVERETT, Moral Values, Chapter XII. 
 
 *FR. PAULSEN, System of Ethics, Book II, Chap. IX. 
 
 *WILLLYM JAMES, Psychology, briefer course, "The Dilemma of Deter- 
 minism" in The Will to Believe. 
 
 *WILLIAM McDouoALL, Social Psychology, Chapter IX. 
 
 "MosiAii ROYCE, Spirit of Modern Philosophy, Lectures X-XIII. 
 Philosophy of Loyalty. 
 
 *F. C. S. SCHILLER, Studies in Humanism, Chapter XVIII. Riddles of 
 the Sphinx, revised edition, Appendix. 
 
 Other elementary and advanced references will be found in the NOTES 
 to this Chapter, 
 
IMMORTALITY 
 
 THERE are certain respects in which the continued existence 
 of human personalities is a well known fact, and a fact of the 
 greatest importance. Discussion of the problem of immortal- 
 ity in these respects in which its existence is not certainly 
 known, and at most must be a postulate, has unduly drawn 
 attention away from the forms of immortality of which we 
 have absolute knowledge, and which ought to afford us great 
 comfort and inspiration. Before entering into consideration 
 of the speculative forms of immortality let us first take notice 
 of those regarding which there can be no doubt whatever. 
 
 I Immortality as a Known Fact 
 
 First, let us note Biological Immortality. Numerous as are 
 the biological theories of the nature and laws of heredity, one 
 does not need to be a biologist to know that children inherit 
 the physical and mental traits of their parents and other ances- 
 tors. Whoever leaves physical descendants is assured that 
 many of his own characteristics and those of his family stock 
 will be preserved. It is comforting to see reappear many of 
 the physical features of one's dead parents, the eyes, it may 
 be of one's beloved mother, the characteristic smile of one's 
 revered father, and along with them, perhaps, to recognize one's 
 own stubbornness and sense of humor, and to know that in one's 
 children will be continued the traits of the family which one 
 loves, and of which one is proud to be a member. In one's 
 children, too, are liable to recur the family defects and weak- 
 nesses, physical and mental. While this may in some cases 
 be a ground for anxiety, there is always the comforting thought 
 that the availability of better scientific modes of treatment 
 makes the inheritance of physical defects less menacing than 
 in the past, while one's own experience will aid in deciding how 
 to deal with them, as well as with dangerous mental and moral 
 weaknesses. The experience of the parent, too, is of value in 
 assisting the child to make the most of the good qualities 
 that he has inherited. So, taken altogether, the hope of an 
 
 412 
 
SPIRITUAL IMMORTALITY 
 
 immortality in one's offspring furnishes one of the finest as 
 well as most powerful incentives to marriage. This prospect, 
 too, induces thoughtfulness on the part of young men and 
 women, who realize the privilege and responsibility of this sort 
 of immortality, and determines them so to order their own lives 
 to ensure the inheritance of clean, vigorous minds and bodies 
 by their descendants. Biological immortality, as thus far de- 
 scribed, is an unquestionable fact, whatever may be the truth 
 of the various biological theories of heredity in detail. Among 
 the latter, that of Weismann, maintaining the continuity of the 
 germ plasm, which is transmitted from one generation to an- 
 other, has led to philosophical speculations. The most daring 
 of these is that of Bergson, who thinks of life as "like a cur- 
 rent passing from germ to germ through the medium of a 
 developed organism," so that there is a continuous progress 
 of immortal life in the germs, "an invisible progress, on which 
 each visible organism rides during the short interval of time 
 given it to live," 1. 
 
 Another known fact may be named Spiritual, or Social Im- 
 mortality. In this sense, great men never die. Class rooms in 
 courses in Greek philosophy are not liable, at least in this 
 country, to be overcrowded. Yet it can be said that the 
 thoughts and personality of Plato through his writings are to- 
 day being studied by more young men in the world every year 
 than ever assembled during his lifetime to hear him lecture in 
 the Academy at Athens. More people today witness the plays 
 of Shakespeare in the theatre, and study the thoughts of this 
 myriad minded poet in classes and in private reading, than ever 
 came in any way into contact with his personality during his 
 lifetime. Nor do thinkers like these merely influence those who 
 consciously come into contact with their writings. It would be 
 impossible to calculate their influence upon countless human 
 beings who have never even heard their names. It is not too 
 much to say that such men are more alive today, in the influence 
 that their personalities are exerting in the world, than when 
 they lived in the flesh. Still more is this true of the great 
 founders of the world's religions. Think of the lives consecrated 
 every year to walk in the eight fold path of the Buddha, and of 
 the souls who every day devoutly engage in prayer when they 
 hear the summons from the mosques of Mohammed ! And what 
 is recorded in the Acts of the Apostles and the books that follow 
 it in our Bibles, and in the witness of Christ borne by all the 
 
IMMORTALITY 
 
 saints, apostles, prophets and martyrs of succeeding centuries 
 but what Jesus has continued both to do and to teach in the 
 world since the end of his brief life in the flesh? 
 
 This principle holds true, not only of the great ones in his- 
 tory, whose names are remembered, but of humbler folk as 
 well. The village Hampdens who withstood the local tyrants, 
 the Cromwells who did not shed their country's blood, and the 
 mute inglorious Miltons, too, are immortal. Though their 
 bodies rest in the country churchyard, and their names may 
 no more be deciphered on the tombstones, the principles and 
 values for which they stood continue to live and exercise an 
 influence in the community. Colleges and universities revere 
 the memories of their founders and presidents, but no freshman 
 or laboratory assistant or janitor who did his part faithfully 
 while he was connected with such an institution and so exerted 
 a modest influence upon the men about him, but has helped to 
 keep pure the traditions of loyalty and service, which are after 
 all the main things in education. Such men, too, survive in the 
 undying life of alma mater. Not only does Washington live 
 in America and Garibaldi in Italy, but every humble private 
 soldier who shared in their heroic efforts for national independ- 
 ence. 
 
 One comforting thought about this kind of immortality is, 
 that it is principally the good in men that survives. Funeral 
 sermons are rightly eulogies; what will be remembered, what 
 are still living and bound to exert an influence are the good, 
 kind deeds of a man who has died. Even before the earth 
 receives his body, a man's meannesses and littlenesses are vir- 
 tually forgotten by those who love him. This principle holds 
 true of the great, as well. What if some investigator digs up 
 some facts in the private life of a Franklin, and even of a 
 Washington, that are discreditable? These are not the im- 
 mortal elements in these men's lives ; far less worthy men were 
 freer from such faults. What the world has come to revere 
 in these men, and to cherish, is all of them that counts today 
 as a living force in human events ; anything else about them 
 may well be allowed to perish utterly from human memory and 
 thought. Even the monsters in human history the Neroes and 
 Domitians and Borgias are doing good, not evil, in the world 
 today. No one is tempted to emulate their vices. They are 
 doing a good work in serving as awful examples to be avoided. 
 Many a young prince in European royal families has probably 
 
SPIRITUAL IMMORTALITY 415 
 
 been more carefully reared, and has consequently developed in- 
 to a better man because of them. So the Mark Antony of 
 Shakespeare's Julius Caesar is entirely wrong; it is the good 
 that men do which lives after them, while the evil is interred 
 with their bones. 
 
 The thought of social immortality should be a great com- 
 fort and an inspiration. Those in bereavement should consider 
 that their lost ones are continuing to live in them, in their con- 
 scious memories, in their ideals, and in their actions. Would 
 you keep alive the friend whom you have lost? Think of him 
 often ; be as he would have you be ; carry out his plans ; be 
 true to his principles. Realize that, so far as this world and 
 its human associations are concerned, our lost ones can only 
 continue to live in us. This is saddening, yes ; but it is a com- 
 fort to know that they do live in us, if we will let them ; and 
 it is an inspiration to keep them living forces in the world. 
 It is surely a more faithful service to them to keep them alive 
 in this way than to abandon oneself to futile and corroding 
 grief. 
 
 A similar comfort and inspiration is open to men associated 
 in groups, such as families, churches, nations. The writer of 
 the Epistle to the Hebrews expresses this thought. After 
 recounting in his remarkable eleventh chapter the heroic deeds 
 that the ancestral heroes of his people had done in faith, he 
 concludes: "And these all, having had witness borne to them 
 through their faith, received not the promise God having pro- 
 vided some better thing concerning us, that apart from us they 
 should not be made perfect" In other words, only as the pres- 
 ent generation achieves the ideal of faith, can the hopes and 
 aspirations of the former generations be realized, and they "be 
 made perfect." No finer appeal to loyalty can be made ; only 
 through our fidelity to our duties, can our parents, the fathers 
 of our country, and the witnesses of our religion in times past, 
 continue to live, and to achieve the high purposes to which 
 they were devoted. Only through us can they be made perfect. 
 Ours, then is a sacred duty and a high privilege. 
 
 Do you desire immortality for yourself? Remember this: 
 Every person acquires just as much spiritual immortality as 
 he deserves; spiritual immortality is something automatically 
 assured to one. Make friends ; be true to them. Stand for 
 high ideals. Be constructive in your life. Plan to marry, if 
 it is practicable. A parent has unusual opportunities, spirit- 
 
IMMORTALITY 
 
 ually as well as biologically, to transmit what is good in him. 
 But if this is impracticable, remember that the teacher, too, 
 has great opportunities ; in fact, in every walk in life the 
 lawyer, the physician, the business man, the mechanic, the un- 
 skilled laborer everyone can make his life a constructive in- 
 fluence that will continue long after his body has rotted away 
 in the grave. 
 
 II Conditions of Immortality as a Postulate 
 
 The reader by this time is probably asking, "Is what you 
 have called 'immortality as a fact,' and classified as 'biolog- 
 ical 5 and 'spiritual' immortality all that is open to man? Have 
 we no ground to believe in personal immortality, i. e., that our 
 friends and we shall persist beyond the grave, not merely in 
 the minds and memories of others, but that our personal exist- 
 ence will in some sense continue, as it were, in our own right?" 
 Yes, we have ground to believe in, and to hope for personal 
 immortality, although the grounds only furnish probability, 
 and not absolute proof. 
 
 Before proceeding further, it is necessary to caution the 
 reader that the expression "personal immortality" is used by 
 various writers in different senses. As employed in this chapter 
 it will include, as will become clear in the course of the expo- 
 sition: (1) immortality as a separate individual; (2) immor- 
 tality merged in God (or the Absolute) as the supreme Person 
 or Individual ; (3) an attempted combination of the two. This 
 usage is wholly arbitrary on the part of the writer. He needs 
 some term to designate all the three types of immortality which 
 require consideration at this point, and this term will answer 
 as well as any. 
 
 The arguments for personal immortality, thus understood, 
 are chiefly moral arguments. In a moral universe, such im- 
 mortality seems logically to be implied. But arguments on 
 this line must necessarily rest upon two assumptions, which 
 must be examined. First, it must be evident that continued 
 existence after death is a scientific, (that is, chiefly a psycho- 
 logical) possibility. If it were simply inconceivable and im- 
 possible, in view of our scientific knowledge, there would be no 
 room to postulate it on moral grounds. It is not necessary 
 that we have positive scientific evidence in favor of such im- 
 mortality ; but the weight of scientific evidence must not at any 
 rate be against it. Secondly, the continued existence of the 
 
SCIENTIFICALLY POSSIBLE 417 
 
 individual after death must be morally desirable. No form of 
 immortality that would be morally undesirable, that would, if 
 it were assumed to exist, render God and the universe less 
 moral and less good than they would be without it can be as- 
 sumed on moral grounds. We can only recognize moral argu- 
 ments for a morally desirable kind of immortality. Before we 
 shall be ready either to review arguments for personal immor- 
 tality as a postulate, or to speculate upon the character of 
 such a state of existence, we must accordingly consider the 
 two preliminary questions: Is personal immortality scienti- 
 fically possible? and Is personal immortality morally desirable? 
 
 Ill Is Continued Existence After Death Scientifically Possible? 
 
 On first thought, the scientific reader, especially if his spec- 
 ialty is either biology or psychology, may possibly feel im- 
 pelled to answer this question with a decided negative. Con- 
 sciousness, everywhere that we find evidence of its existence, 
 at least in a developed form, seems absolutely dependent upon 
 a brain and nervous system. In the case of man, consciousness 
 only appears after birth, and only develops as coordinations 
 are formed in the cells of the brain. A slight cortical injury 
 may render a person totally blind, or deaf, or unable to recall 
 the meaning of printed or spoken words, depending upon 
 what specific area is damaged. More general injuries to the 
 brain may deprive a person of his sanity, or of his bodily life 
 altogether. Is it reasonable to suppose that his consciousness, 
 which only appears when his brain has reached a certain de- 
 velopment, and continues to be dependent upon the normal 
 functioning of brain cells, can survive the destruction of the 
 brain at death? 
 
 Well, as William James has pointed out, there are different 
 senses in which consciousness may be conceived to be a function 
 of the brain. The conclusion that consciousness cannot sur- 
 vive the destruction of the brain assumes that the function is 
 productive, in the sense in which we say that steam is a func- 
 tion of the tea-kettle, light of the electric circuit, and power 
 of the moving waterfall. 
 
 But in the world of physical nature there are other kinds 
 of functions besides productive functions. For instance, there 
 are transmissive functions, as in the case of a colored glass, 
 a prism, or a refracting lens, which do not produce the light, 
 but transmit its rays in modified forms. Similarly the keys 
 
418 IMMORTALITY 
 
 of an organ have only a transmissive function; they open the 
 various pipes successively, and let the wind in the air-chest 
 escape in various ways. But the air is not engendered in the 
 organ. 
 
 James points out that it is quite conceivable that the rela- 
 tion of the mind to the brain might be either one of these kinds 
 of functions. All that the scientific facts show is bare con- 
 comitant variation, i. e., that when the brain activities change 
 in one way, consciousness changes in another. To say that the 
 -function is productive is to engage in metaphysical specula- 
 tion just as much as to say that it is transmissive. There are 
 no facts known to psychology or physiology that are not com- 
 patible with the transmission theory, while a number of psycho- 
 logical conceptions fit into this theory particularly well. Among 
 the latter is that of the "threshold," which can be conceived as 
 rising and falling as the physical obstructions in the brain to 
 the transmission of consciousness grow greater or less. The 
 transmission theory better explains the forms of religious ex- 
 perience, such as conversion and prayer, in which it seems "as 
 if a power without, quite different from the ordinary action 
 of the senses, or of the sense-led mind, came into their life, as 
 if the latter suddenly opened into that greater life in which 
 it has its source. . . All such experiences, quite paradoxi- 
 cal and meaningless on the production theory, fall very natur- 
 ally into place (on the transmission theory). We need only 
 suppose the continuity of our consciousness with a mother sea 
 to allow for exceptional waves occasionally pouring over the 
 dam," 2. James did not intend to imply that personal identity 
 disappears with death, and that the individual is merged into 
 a "mother sea" that includes others indistinguishably ; on the 
 contrary, he says that "the mental world behind the veil" may 
 be conceived "in as individualistic a form as one pleases," so 
 that one "shall never in saecula saeculorum cease to be able to 
 say to himself, 'I am the same personal being who in old times 
 upon the earth had those experiences,' " 3. 
 
 Dr. F. C. S. Schiller has pointed out other facts that fit 
 better into the transmissive than the productive theory. The 
 loss or impairment of consciousness that follows brain injuries 
 is often after an interval followed by a restoration of the lost 
 functions which are now performed by other areas in the cor- 
 tex. Such facts best accord with the transmission theory, which 
 can say that v.'hat was injured was the machinery by which the 
 
SCIENTIFICALLY POSSIBLE 419 
 
 manifestation of consciousness was rendered possible, and that, 
 later on, consciousness became able from the uninjured parts 
 to make a mechanism capable of acting as a substitute for the 
 lost parts, 4s. 
 
 Somewhat similar in many respects to the transmission the- 
 ory of James and Dr. Schiller, is the doctrine of Professor 
 Bergsori, as given in his Matter and Memory and Creative 
 Evolution. He regards the brain as the instrument of action 
 by which the mind carries out its purposes. He reviews the 
 literature of aphasia and reasons that the facts accord better 
 with his doctrine. He claims that apparent breaks in memory 
 can also best be explained on the assumption that simply the 
 brain mechanism for making use of these memories has broken 
 down, 5. 
 
 Critical readers may remark that although James, Schiller, 
 and Bergson, must be credited with careful study of the scien- 
 tific evidence they are after all primarily philosophical theor- 
 ists. To such the corroborative testimony of Dr. J. A. Had- 
 field, a practising surgeon in the British Navy, may be wel- 
 come. His own observation and experience, both with cases 
 from ordinary civilian life and those of shell shock and other 
 disorders suffered by soldiers, convince him that the mind, both 
 normally and still more under hypnotic conditions, exercises 
 so much control over neural and other bodily processes as to 
 indicate that it is no mere product of the brain. Indeed, the 
 facts indicate an increasing tendency on the part of the mind 
 to assert its control and independence, and at least suggest 
 "the possibility of its becoming entirely liberated from the 
 body, and continuing to live disembodied and free" after 
 death, 6. 
 
 Professor William McDougall, the physiological and social 
 psychologist, maintains that there are many psychological 
 facts that cannot be explained by what we, following James, 
 have called the production theory, nor even by the transmis- 
 sion theory. These facts include such concrete but technical 
 experimental investigations as his own work in the coordina- 
 tion of the eyes in binocular vision, and more general consid- 
 erations such as the impossibility of neural correlates for mean- 
 ings and values, the unity of consciousness and personality, 
 the unique qualities of sensations, the sequence of sensation 
 by feelings and emotions, conation and effort, memory and 
 reasoning, all processes alien in quality and behavior to 
 
420 IMMORTALITY 
 
 bodily processes. The cause of such phenomena, Professor 
 McDougall maintains, must be the soul not conceived in the 
 old-fashioned manner as a simple substance, but a being that 
 possesses or is, the sum of definite capacities to produce sen- 
 sations, feelings, meanings, memories, conations, and judg- 
 ments, in interaction with the body. Such a soul conceivably 
 might survive the body at death, 7. 
 
 Such conceptions as those of James, Dr. Schiller, Professor 
 Bergson, Dr. Hadfield, and Professor McDougall concerning 
 the relation between the mind and the body make it possible 
 that the minds or souls of men persist after death as distinct 
 individual beings. If experimental evidence could 1 be found, 
 their existence might be scientifically established. The British 
 and American Societies of Psychical Research organizations 
 including in their active membership persons of the highest 
 standing, as scientists, scholars, and statesmen have been en- 
 deavoring for some years to find out whether such evidence 
 exists. They have carefully investigated the claims of clair- 
 voyants, spiritualistic mediums and like folk, who allege that 
 they are able to communicate with the dead. While the vast 
 majority of these persons have been found to be frauds, there 
 are a few who are undoubtedly entirely honest, at any rate in 
 their normal waking states, whatever may be true of them 
 under trance conditions. The evidence that has been accu- 
 mulated has proved on the whole convincing to so eminent a 
 scientist as Sir Oliver Lodge, 8. 
 
 Those interested should read some of this material, as pub- 
 lished in the Proceedings of the Society of Psychical Research. 
 Most confidence is usually placed, by those who believe that the 
 existence of spirits has been established, in the reports of cor- 
 respondence purporting to be from the same spirit, but trans- 
 mitted by different mediums. If this material does not estab- 
 lish the existence of spirits, but does establish telepathy, i. <?., 
 "the communication of mind with mind by means other than 
 the recognized channels of sense," as a number of eminent 
 authorities including Professor McDougall (9) have con- 
 cluded, it is damaging to the production theory, since the hypo- 
 thesis of telepathy implies that the mind has powers that can- 
 not readily be regarded as the product of physical forces. 
 Acceptance of telepathy, therefore, is favorable to belief in 
 the existence of the mind in independence of the body. 
 
 The vast majority of scientific psychologists, however, have 
 
SCIENTIFICALLY POSSIBLE 4rU 
 
 been unable to find anything in this material that cannot be 
 attributed to fraud, to mere coincidence, or to sub-conscious 
 processes, and accordingly believe in neither spiritism nor tele- 
 pathy, regarding the evidence for either of them as of little 
 weight. The reader should be warned that those psychical 
 researchers who do accept spiritism and telepathy admit that 
 the great majority of professional mediums, clairvoyants and 
 fortune tellers are rascals. It is agreed by all responsible 
 authorities on the subject that for the present, investigation 
 should be confined to competent specialists. The ordinary lay- 
 man ought to keep away from seances of all sorts, if he wishes 
 to save his money and to preserve a sane attitude toward life, 10. 
 
 Perhaps the reader has found the evidence thus far con- 
 sidered, sufficient to indicate that it is quite possible so far as 
 present scientific knowledge goes, that the individual's mind 
 may persist in independence of his body. Immortality in other 
 words, may appear to be scientifically possible. Thus far in 
 this section the type of immortality which we have been con- 
 templating is that of separate individual minds, persisting in 
 independence of one another, as is the case in our present life. 
 To be sure, the transmission theory need not be interpreted 
 so as to imply this. It may be taken to signify that individ- 
 uals do not persist as such but lose their separate character 
 and become parts of a universal Mind or Will which may, 
 if we wish, be thought of as God. 
 
 This latter supposition is compatible with the doctrine held 
 by many psychologists, that consciousness is not a separate 
 something that is in interaction with the body, but that its 
 processes are in some sense parallel to those of the brain. Ac- 
 cording to psycho-physical parallelism, there is always a nerv- 
 ous process concomitant with a mental process. You see me 
 look at a book, take it up, and read in it, and then lay it down 
 again on the table. What you perceive in my behavior is 
 wholly physical. A scientific description of it would be made 
 from your standpoint. You could say that an image of the 
 book was reflected on the retinae of my eyes, that nerve cur- 
 rents ran up from the eyes to the occipital lobes in the cortex, 
 that reactions in other cortical centers were next evoked, from 
 which a current ran down from the motor brain areas to my 
 hand and the book was picked up. Parallel with all this, how- 
 ever, was the process as 7 felt it in my consciousness. I per- 
 ceived the book, it suggested some interesting question to my 
 
422 IMM ^l-.T 
 
 mind, I felt an impulse to pick it up, and did so. I felt the 
 process from within that was consciousness; you observed it 
 from without that was a physical process. The two series 
 of events are parallel. 
 
 It might at first appear that psycho-physical parallelism 
 necessarily implies that consciousness must cease when neural 
 action ceases. The two are concomitant in life, the former 
 cannot continue without the latter. However, this does not 
 necessarily follow. To suppose that there are two series of 
 processes, a mental series and a physical series, and that the 
 mental never appears except in connection with the physical, 
 though it is neither the cause nor the effect of the physical, 
 may be advantageous for procedure in psychological investi- 
 gations. It makes it possible to study either series by itself, 
 leaving the other out of account, and psychology can concern 
 itself exclusively with the conscious series, and physiology 
 with the mental series. Each series thus has a homogeneous 
 material to work upon. But advantageous and justifiable as 
 such an hypothesis may be as a methodological assumption for 
 these sciences, it does not answer the requirements of philo- 
 sophy, which cannot well affirm that there actually are two un- 
 related but completely parallel series of events. Parallelists 
 in psychology, therefore, when they become philosophers are 
 obliged to find some other explanation. They may say that 
 the two concomitant mental and physical series are after all 
 really the same events viewed from the inside and the outside; 
 if a parallelist holds this view, and at the same time believes 
 that there is a universal parallelism between mind and matter, 
 i. e., panpsychism he may believe that when the matter of the 
 body is dissolved in death, but not actually destroyed, since 
 matter is indestructible, the mind also persists in the mind of 
 God. Some parallelists, like Fechner and Paulsen, have even 
 thought that the relative independence of the individual's mind 
 is preserved under these conditions, 11. 
 
 Other parallelists regard the construction of the two series, 
 mental and physical, as a wholly artificial procedure, justifiable 
 for the purposes of science, but untrue of reality. Hugo 
 Miinsterberg was a parallelist who looked at the matter thus. 
 "To honor science means to respect its limitations: science is 
 not and cannot be, and ought never to try to be, an expres- 
 sion of ultimate reality. When science seeks to be a philo- 
 
SCIENTIFICALLY POSSIBLE 
 
 sophy, It not only oversteps its rights, but weakens its own 
 positions. . . Science is an instrument constructed by 
 human will in the service of human purposes. It is a valuable, 
 reliable, and indispensable instrument ; but it is, like any instru- 
 ment, an artificial construction ; which has meaning only in 
 view of its purpose." To achieve the practical purposes of 
 science it is necessary to substitute for the real world an arti- 
 ficial world of causes and effects that follow one another in 
 time. While this construction serves our real life, it remains 
 "an artificial construction whose right and value do not go 
 beyond the purpose for which it was fabricated." No science 
 can say anything about ourselves, who make the sciences. In 
 reality we are free, and only in our own practical interests have 
 we constructed the sciences. The real life as a system of inter- 
 related "will attitudes" is beyond time, independent of life and 
 death, and immortal in the Absolute, 12. 
 
 Our conclusion, therefore, is, that immortality of some sort, 
 in which the contents of the individual's consciousness are pre- 
 served after death, is possible, so far as present scientific 
 knowledge goes. If this conclusion is sound, we shall expect 
 to find in agreement with it the majority of scientists, at least 
 of those who have considered the question broadly, with some 
 regard to the place of science in a philosophical view of the 
 world. And this, the author believes, is the real outcome of a 
 very carefully prepared questionnaire which Professor James 
 H. Leuba has submitted to numerous physicists, biologists, his- 
 torians, sociologists, and psychologists in this country, al- 
 though Professor Leuba might be reluctant to admit it, 13. The 
 questions which Professor Leuba asked these men had refer- 
 ence to personal immortality, conceived more narrowly than in 
 this chapter, so that those who believe in the type of immortal- 
 ity held by Miinsterberg would have to be classed in the nega- 
 tive. Of those who replied to the questionnaire, about one- 
 half believed in personal immortality (as narrowly defined in 
 the questionnaire) and the majority of the rest were in doubt. 
 In an impartial manner the most eminent men in each profes- 
 sion were separated from the rest. Among these those who 
 believed in personal immortality, those who disbelieved in it, 
 and those who were in doubt each constituted about one-third 
 of the total number, 14. Among biologists and psychologists, 
 men whose work brings them directly into contact with ques- 
 tions of the relationship between the mind and body, the per- 
 
424 IMMORTALITY 
 
 centage who disbelieve in personal immortality is greater than 
 in the case of the other groups. 
 
 It is evident that those who are in doubt whether or not there 
 is personal immortality do not believe that it is a scientific 
 impossibility; otherwise, they certainly would disbelieve in it. 
 So it is not a misinterpretation of Professor Leuba's statistics 
 to say that at least two-thirds of his scientists regard per- 
 sonal immortality as at any rate possible. The replies that Pro- 
 fessor Leuba received from philosophers did not admit of class- 
 ification, one writing that he could not answer such questions 
 with a simple "Yes" or "No," and another that he believed in a 
 meaning for such terms as "personal immortality" but not in 
 the apparent meaning of the questions, while the replies of 
 others showed that the same answers to a question could not 
 be taken to express in all cases the same view on the subject. 
 
 So Professor Leuba's results are precisely what we should 
 expect. Scientists are about equally divided into three groups, 
 those who believe in personal immortality, those who disbelieve 
 in it, and those who are in doubt upon the subject. Biologists 
 and psychologists probably are more skeptical than the rest, 
 because the subject suggests to their minds the dubious results 
 of psychical research. Philosophers, who alone have given this 
 subject consideration on all sides, cannot express by a simple 
 "Yes," "No" or "Am in doubt" whether they believe in "per- 
 sonal immortality ;" like the author, it all depends on what is 
 meant by "personal immortality" and it would take at least 
 one chapter in a book to make their position clear. This out- 
 come which the author has attributed to Professor's Leuba's 
 investigations is all the more significant because Professor 
 Leuba certainly was not endeavoring to make out a case for 
 personal immortality, in which he strongly disbelieves him- 
 self. He interprets his statistics to show that a majority of 
 scientists do not believe in personal immortality a conclusion 
 at which he arrives by including those in doubt among those 
 who do not believe in it. Of course, in a way, this is justifiable; 
 a man in doubt upon a proposition may be said in a sense, not 
 to believe in it ; but it is equally true to say that he does not dis- 
 believe in it, that is, he admits its possibility. 
 
 IV What Kind of Personal Immortality is Morally Desirable? 
 
 As has been seen, all that can be claimed for personal im- 
 mortality on scientific grounds is its possibility. The deciding 
 
MORALLY DESIRABLE 425 
 
 arguments for it must be found elsewhere. Since the time of 
 Kant, most philosophers believe that the strongest of these are 
 the moral arguments. These are based on the prior assump- 
 tion that this is at bottom a moral universe, a universe in 
 which moral ends are achieved and moral values are conserved. 
 In such a universe the kind of personal immortality that would 
 exist would of course be a morally desirable kind. By a mor- 
 ally desirable kind is not meant necessarily a kind that we may 
 fancy that we should find agreeable, but a kind that appears 
 to us morally right and just, so that the universe would be 
 of less moral worth without such immortality than with it. 
 
 In the first place, a future life that would be morally desir- 
 able must be one in which the state of the good man will be 
 bound to be forever morally better than it now is. If a future 
 existence were conceived to be subject to the "wheel of birth," 
 so that a good man in his next life might be tempted and fall, 
 and in subsequent rebirths be reduced to a lower condition than 
 he now is, immortality would be horrible to contemplate and 
 morally undesirable. Some means of escape from rebirth would 
 then have to be sought, such as Brahmanism and Buddhism 
 profess to offer. Nor could a morally desirable universe be 
 governed by Nietzche's law of "eternal recurrence," in which 
 the present life must sometime be exactly repeated. Few men 
 or women probably would care to lead their present lives over 
 again if given the choice between so doing and annihilation ; 
 certainly none would desire to do so if they would be afforded 
 no opportunity to profit by present experience and so to im- 
 prove upon the choices that they have made in the present life. 
 Few plays are worth seeing twice, and few books are worth re- 
 reading; the exceptions are due to the chance to gain further 
 insight and profit from what had previously escaped attention. 
 No life could be worth reliving unless the repetition would be 
 an improvement. 
 
 So a future life that would be morally desirable must be a 
 life in which, for the good man, there must either be the actual 
 attainment of perfection, or assured progress in its direction. 
 There must be no danger of standing still or slipping back- 
 ward; better absolute annihilation than either of those! The 
 "perseverance of the saints" is a dogma attached to the post- 
 ulate of a morally desirable immortality. Moreover, in the 
 future life individual personalities must in some sense be con- 
 served, or perhaps it would be better to say, what is of value 
 
426 IMMORTALITY 
 
 in them must endure. In the future life -what is strong and 
 beautiful and true and in a fine way distinctive in a good man 
 must survive. Whether the individual should persist as a sep- 
 arate soul, or whether he should become an integral part of 
 God's mind and memory and will, is yet to be considered. But, 
 at any event, his immortality must at least be personal ; it may 
 be superpersonal. 
 
 Such are some of the general features of a personal immor- 
 tality that can be regarded as morally desirable. It would 
 appear necessary that it would be an outcome on a higher 
 moral plane, of the achievements in one's present career. It 
 would also appear desirable, if possible, that in it there should 
 be conscious memory of the present life, a sense of continuity 
 that would not be lost in the attainment of the larger life, in- 
 tercourse with friends, and all the other higher goods of which 
 we can conceive. If the reader can confidently believe that the 
 universe is absolutely teleological and moral, he ought to feel 
 certain that the future life will afford full conservation and 
 enhancement of everything that is morally desirable in this life, 
 wrought to its highest consummation. But if, like the author, 
 his faith does not fly so high, and he can merely believe that 
 this is a universe in which teleological and moral ends are only 
 gradually becoming dominant, he may not expect so much, and 
 may have to content himself with believing that the most essen- 
 tial values are conserved. As a minimum, the immortality that 
 is morally desirable must, in the words of Lowes Dickinson, 
 be "one in which a continuity of experience analogous to that 
 which we are aware of here is carried on after death, the essence 
 of that life being the continuous unfolding, no doubt through 
 stress and conflict, of those potentialities of good of which 
 we are aware here as the most significant part of ourselves," 15. 
 
 V Arguments for Personal Immortality as a Postulate 
 
 The arguments for the postulation of personal immortality 
 have already been anticipated in preceding chapters. We have 
 seen that if this is a teleological universe, one of the cosmic 
 purposes must be the higher development of man upon this 
 planet. This higher development of man, we saw too, on the 
 assumption that this is a moral universe, must include his moral 
 development. And a teleological universe would pretty cer- 
 tainly be a moral universe, as moral ends are the highest ends 
 of which we know, 16. If, then, there is a teleological and moral 
 
MORALLY DESIRABLE 427 
 
 evolution going on in the universe that has had as one of its 
 results the appearance of good men with rational powers and 
 moral insight, it would seem that the personalities of these men 
 (or of the good elements in the personalities of all men) would 
 survive death. The personality of a good man is the most 
 valuable thing of which we know. If such personalities can 
 survive death and continue to develop and to be of service, the 
 universe is richer in value than if these personalities are bound 
 to perish. 
 
 Of two conceivable universes, one in which good personali- 
 ties can merely persist in biological and spiritual immortality 
 but must otherwise pass away, and one in which these good 
 personalities are forever conserved, the latter is infinitely the 
 better, and as a teleological and moral universe, the more suc- 
 cessful. In an absolutely teleological and moral universe, per- 
 sonal immortality of good men, or of the good elements in all 
 men, is a necessary feature ; in a universe in which the teleolog- 
 ical principle is coming increasingly to prevail, and moral ends 
 are being accomplished, such immortality is clearly a most 
 highly desirable end, and one that has been realized if God has 
 been able to bring it about. If God be Absolute, such immor- 
 tality is in some sense assured ; if God be finite, such immor- 
 tality is certainly an end that He desires for those who are 
 likest Him, and which in all probability He is able to assure 
 to them. 
 
 Whatever may be the purposes of God in the universe as 
 a whole, the retention in Himself or with Himself of the 
 highest products of each planet must be among them. Whether 
 this retention is eternal or in time, and whether and in what 
 sense it involves the persistence of separate souls, are matters 
 of detail for later consideration. But retention of some sort 
 appears to be necessarily implied in an absolutely teleological 
 and moral universe, and probable in a universe in which tele- 
 ology and morality are becoming increasingly dominant. 
 
 Further moral arguments for personal immortality, as we 
 saw in Chapter XIX, follow from considerations of the meaning 
 of duty and the relation that morally ought to prevail between 
 the fulfilment of duty and the obtainment of happiness, 17. 
 
 VI Types of Immortality as a Postulate 
 
 If we may now regard personal immortality as morally de- 
 sirable, and conclude to believe in it as at least a probable 
 
428 IMMORTALITY 
 
 postulate, in what sort of personal immortality shall we be- 
 lieve? (1) Shall we believe in personal immortality of indi- 
 viduals as separate souls? (2) Shall we prefer the view that 
 the personalities of individuals are somehow conserved in the 
 mind and will of the World Soul or God? (3) Or is some 
 combination of the two conceptions preferable to either taken 
 by itself? 
 
 In considering such possibilities as these, we are of course 
 entering into a domain of pure speculation. We are there- 
 fore justified in exercising our imaginations to the utmost. In 
 attempting to conceive of a state of life that we believe to be 
 a vast advance upon our present state we can be sure that our 
 imaginations are far too likely to fail to do justice to its char- 
 acteristics. How difficult it is to predict conditions here on 
 earth a generation in advance! How greatly have those failed 
 to anticipate present conditions who made the attempt a gen- 
 eration ago! And their failures were chiefly due to lack of 
 imagination, to inability to realize what great changes might 
 come. When we attempt to conceive of a state of existence 
 immeasurably different from and superior to the present, our 
 imaginations, though given free rein, must fail to picture the 
 reality adequately. 
 
 "And when I fain would sing them, 
 
 My spirit fails and faints. 
 And vainly would it image 
 The assembly of the Saints. 
 
 Thy loveliness oppresses 
 
 All human thought and heart; 
 And none, O peace, O Zion, 
 
 Can sing thee as thou art!" 18. 
 
 However, in considering the possibilities of the future life, it 
 is not our function as philosophical students to endeavor to 
 rival the visions of the mystical poets. There are two criteria 
 that we must constantly employ. (1) Since we are consenting 
 to believe in personal immortality as probable on moral grounds, 
 we should regard that type of immortality as most probable 
 that appears to us most fully to meet moral requirements. 
 The most morally desirable type of immortality which we can 
 imagine is, in other words, the closest approximation, at which 
 we can arrive, to the kind that actually exists. (2) The details 
 in our view of immortality must be logically consistent with 
 one another, and with our other philosophical opinions. 
 
AS A SEPARATE SOUL 429 
 
 With these criteria in mind, and remembering not to be 
 afraid to give rein to our imaginations, let us consider th 
 three possibilities mentioned. 
 
 (1) Continued Existence as a Separate Soul 
 
 On this view, each individual would continue to exist separate 
 from other individuals in the future, just as he does now. Un- 
 less the dubious doctrine of the pre-existence of individual souls 
 prior to this life be combined with this view (19) we must sup- 
 pose that new individuals are constantly coming into exist- 
 ence at birth. The number of separate souls in the universe 
 must therefore continually be upon the increase. The universe 
 must be a constantly enlarging society. These souls, too, 
 must be continually advancing ; for, unless their perpetual pro- 
 gress be assured, this type of immortality would not be morally 
 desirable, and could not occur in a teleological and moral uni- 
 verse. This conception of immortality would accord with the 
 theories upon the relationship between the mind and the body 
 advanced by William James, Professor Bergson, and Professor 
 McDougall, which we have observed. There are no serious 
 scientific objections to this view. To say that there would not 
 be room enough in space to hold so many souls, is not a serious 
 objection; since it could be urged that space, as well as time, 
 matter, motion, cause, effect, and all other ordinary scientific 
 conceptions are merely teleological devices or instruments 
 adopted by our minds for limited purposes, and that they do 
 not literally apply to the world as it actually exists. After 
 death the souls would find themselves in a universe more vast 
 than we can conceive with our limited categories. 
 
 "For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place 
 The flood may bear me far." 
 
 Two objections to this theory may need to be noticed. First, 
 it might be objected, as James points out, (20) that such a host 
 of undesirable souls would persist eternally all the Hottentots 
 and Australians that have been, and ever shall be, and all the 
 Chinamen ! A few chosen specimens of such races surely would 
 be enough to be preserved. "Life is a good thing on a reason- 
 ably copious scale; but the very heavens themselves, and the 
 cosmic times and spaces, would stand aghast, we think, at the 
 notion of preserving eternally such an ever-swelling plethora 
 and glut of it." So we conclude that .we had rather not be 
 
430 IMMORTALITY 
 
 immortal ourselves, than to have to participate in an immertal- 
 ity shared by an inconceivably huge horde of such creatures. 
 James says, in reply, that we must believe that this is a demo- 
 cratic universe in which our paltry exclusions play no regula- 
 tive part, that God on the theistic view has "so inexhaustible 
 a capacity for love that his call and need is for a literally end- 
 less accumulation of created lives," and on the pantheistic 
 view, that through "so many diversified channels of expres- 
 sion, the eternal Spirit of the Universe affirms and realizes its 
 own infinite life." Another point that could be made in reply 
 is that in a future life on an inconceivably higher moral and 
 spiritual plane than this the only possibility that would be 
 morally desirable there would be no souls that would in that 
 state be Chinese or Hottentots as we know them here nor 
 Americans or Europeans either. The white man would not be 
 disgusted at the savagery of the black fellow or the alien stand- 
 ards of the Chinese, nor would the latter have occasion to fear 
 the ruthless cruelty and exploitation of white men. The souls 
 of all human beings would have advanced to a degree in com- 
 parison with which the present differences in culture between 
 the various races on earth differences due to only a few thou- 
 sand years in terrestrial history at most would be totally neg- 
 ligible. 
 
 The other objection may be stated thus. "On this argu- 
 ment why ought one not to assume that animals are immortal 
 also ?" It may be replied that it is indeed quite conceivable that 
 animal souls, too, progress into higher forms of perfection in 
 the next world, as well as we. Why not? They, too, may be 
 necessary for the varied expression of the Infinite Life, or the 
 inexhaustible love of God; and they, too, there will live on a 
 higher plane of existence than here. A slight moral argument 
 for animal immortality may be urged. Should even a worm 
 be cloven in vain, or merely subserve another's good? If spar- 
 rows do not fall to the ground without the Heavenly Father's 
 notice, must their souls not endure, and they, too, be given op- 
 portunity for future advancement? On the contrary, it must 
 be admitted that the moral arguments are not so strong for 
 animal as for human immortality. Only man has reason and 
 a moral consciousness. The values conserved by the immor- 
 tality of animals would be of less consequence for the universe. 
 On psychological grounds, too, animal immortality appears 
 less probable. An animal's mind does not rise superior to its 
 
IN GOD 431 
 
 environment, and assume control of it to the same extent as a 
 man's; it seems less likely that the consciousness of an animal 
 can survive the shock of death and the dissolution of its body. 
 The chief moral arguments in favor of this type of immor- 
 tality (the persistence of separate souls) may be briefly stated. 
 It assures the persistence of the individual, with his unique 
 traits and talents. Continuity with this life is most clear and 
 complete on this view. Recognition of friends is rendered 
 probable. The fulfilment of moral tasks and the gaining of 
 happiness by the same individual who has labored, and achieved 
 and suffered here is made certain. Fulfilment of duty, self- 
 development, love, happiness, all the distinctive moral values 
 appear to us most realizable in a society of separate indiv- 
 idual souls working together for common ends and sharing 
 common joys, and burdens, too, perhaps. Existence as a 
 separate soul, perhaps it should be added, is the type of im- 
 mortality to which the data furnished by psychical research, 
 would point, if accepted as evidence. 
 
 (2) Continued Existence in God 
 
 According to the conception which we must next consider, 
 the separate existence of the individual in time ends with his 
 death. When the spirit returns to God who gave it, its tem- 
 poral career as an individual is ended. It continues biologic- 
 ally and spiritually to live in other finite beings, to be sure. 
 It also lives in the mind of the Infinite, where the memory of 
 its life endures eternally. This conception of immortality has 
 been held by many philosophers and mystics. To attain con- 
 sciousness in this life, of such identity with the Infinite, and 
 so even now to rise above time and live in 'eternity, has been the 
 effort of many of the great religious thinkers of India, as well 
 as of Plotinus, Spinoza, and many another spiritually minded 
 philosopher in the Occident. 
 
 It must be admitted that there is much that is morally attrac- 
 tive in some of the Oriental versions of this conception, in which 
 the individual is exhorted to tenderness and affection for all 
 things as fundamentally one with himself, and in which he is 
 promised liberation from his finite limitations and moral as well 
 as physical weaknesses through absorption in God or the Uni- 
 verse. However, such a state of absorption often seems repel- 
 lent to the Occidental mind ; it is too much like annihilation, 
 or at best, eternal stagnation. No Nirvana of eternal rest and 
 
432 IMMORTALITY 
 
 quiet can evoke a sympathetic response in our active natures. 
 Spinoza's conception of the "intellectual love of God," (21) by 
 which man may learn to be free from passions, ever to return 
 good for evil, and to rejoice in a calm acquiescence induced by 
 a steadfast regard of all things from the standpoint of etern- 
 ity, is not wholly satisfactory, either. 
 
 But there is no need to regard the state of immortality in 
 God as one of such absolute quiescence. It has been regarded 
 by such philosophers as Fichte (22) and Miinsterberg (23) as 
 one of unceasing activity ; the whole course of things in the 
 Universe is the expression of His unceasing will. To be one 
 with God may therefore mean to share in the consciousness of 
 this eternal Will. Even if the Absolute be conceived with em- 
 phasis on cognition rather than volition, the Universal Mind 
 is by no means one of torpor, it is the mind of the universe as 
 a whole, perceived in all its relations in their systematic unity. 
 To be one with such a God or Absolute would by no means im- 
 ply a state of quiescence, but rather one of eternally creative 
 intellectual activity, 24. 
 
 Sometimes the objection is raised against this form of im- 
 mortality, that it is impersonal. In reply, defenders can ask, 
 "What is it to be a person? When we speak of anyone as 
 having a strong or a weak personality, what do we mean? The 
 strong personality possesses breadth of knowledge, of sympathy, 
 of capacities for action. The more a person understands, the 
 more he can do, the more self-reliant he is, the more his decisions 
 are determined by his own choices intelligently made, the more 
 he masters the conditions of his environment instead of being 
 forced to act by the pressure of external conditions, the strong- 
 er, we say, is his personality. The stubborn, stupid, narrow 
 minded individual has a small personality, and so has the in- 
 stable fellow who has no steadfast purposes and is carried along 
 by the drift of the tide. The more inclusive a man's purposes, 
 the broader his sympathies, the deeper his understanding, the 
 more nearly complete is his personality. It follows that in the 
 whole universe there is just one absolutely complete and all suffi- 
 cient Person or Individual, and that is the one universal Mind 
 that includes all finite thoughts and purposes in an eternally 
 completed whole. To become identified with such a Person is not 
 to lose one's own personality, but to achieve it and to perfect 
 it. As separate individuals, we are bound to be finite, limited 
 in our capacities to understand and to do, restricted by an 
 
IN GOD 433 
 
 environment that is external to us and which we can only in 
 part master and make subservient to ourselves. To be one 
 with God or the Absolute is in some sense to gain infinite Per- 
 sonality ; to find all our wants satisfied, all our questions an- 
 swered, to gain eternal completion." 
 
 In fact, some advocates of this conception of immortality 
 argue that to desire continued existence as a separate soul, ins 
 preference to such identification with the one complete Person, 
 is to be small and selfish, to prefer a narrowed outlook to a 
 wide one, limited sympathies and prejudices to universal love, 
 petty purposes to world purposes. The most splendid destiny 
 we could hope for others or desire for ourselves is to become 
 one with God. Far from being impersonal, this type of im- 
 mortality is the only kind that is truly personal; or perhaps 
 one had better say it is superpersonal, since it includes within 
 itself all that we ordinarily mean by personality, and more 
 besides. 
 
 Possibly, in the effort to envisage this kind of immortality, 
 some will find help in an analogy from pathological psychology, 
 although the analogy is necessarily very imperfect, and must 
 not be pushed too far. Dr. Morton Prince, in his Dissociation 
 of a Personality, tells us how, in restoring integral life to Miss 
 Beauchamp, it became necessary to coordinate all the separate 
 personalities into which her mind had become broken. He re- 
 gretted that to accomplish this end it became necessary to sup- 
 press one personality, "Sally," that was very attractive in 
 many ways. Yet, if the author understands the account cor- 
 rectly, after Miss Beauchamp's memory had become fully re- 
 united, she was able to recall all the actions and thoughts of 
 all the separate personalities into which her mind had at one 
 time been sundered. "Sally," though no longer a separate, 
 limited personality, sometimes in rivalry and antagonism to 
 other limited personalities, lived in the after life of Miss Beau- 
 champ. The latter could remember all she had ever thought 
 and done as Sally. In this larger life Sally's limitations were 
 overcome and yet she lived on in sympathy with and under- 
 standing of what had been the other fragments of a severed 
 personality. Neither Sally nor any of her rivals had been really 
 a human person; yet none of them realized their defects, nor 
 that only by becoming merged into a single consciousness could 
 they achieve the normal conditions of a human personality. 
 
434 IMMORTALITY 
 
 As separate personalities they had to die, in order that they 
 might achieve a fuller personality. 
 
 So it is with us. To save our lives we must lose them. As 
 separate souls we must die; to find our lives in God we must 
 lose them as separate individuals ; only thus can we achieve real 
 Individuality and Personality. May not God eternally remem- 
 ber all the separate careers of all the separate souls, who are 
 now sundered from Him, but whose destiny it is to become ulti- 
 mately united with Him forever? Each separate soul shall 
 become one with all the rest in God. What is it now to love a 
 friend? Is it not to have common joys, common understand- 
 ings, common purposes and aspirations? What bliss it will be 
 in all eternity for all our thoughts and desires to become merged 
 in a common Mind! For reasons that we do not now under- 
 stand, the World Soul, to complete His purposes, has had to 
 become partly broken up into a lot of separate souls, each only 
 a fragment of His Personality, with its part to perform for the 
 good of the universe as a whole. But when the task of each 
 of these separate souls is completed, and its debt of separate 
 existence paid, what more heavenly reward can it have than to 
 return home again to God, and in identity with Him to think 
 and plan and will and enjoy the universe to all eternity! How 
 more completely could "the chief end of man" be fulfilled ! 
 
 The moral advantages in this type of immortality have been 
 indicated. From a scientific standpoint, it escapes the difficul- 
 ties involved in supposing that the soul of man is a separate 
 substance of some sort or other now in interaction with his 
 body, and able to survive severance from it at death. Just as 
 at death the individual's body loses its identity, yet the matter 
 of which it is composed persists, his consciousness also ceases 
 its career as a separate individual but persists as a part of the 
 universal Mind. 
 
 (3) Attempted Combination of Separateness with 
 Immortality in God 
 
 There remains another objection to the theory of immor- 
 tality in God that should now be indicated. If individual souls 
 simply became memories in the mind of God, has not something 
 been lost, after all? Love can only exist between separate 
 individuals. It is rather absurd to speak of one of a person's 
 thoughts loving another of them. Is not an eternity in the 
 Absolute, where we are only thoughts in a common mind, rather 
 
JOSIAH ROYCE 435 
 
 a lonely and forlorn destiny, after all? If it were possible 
 somehow to conceive of a form of immortality in God in which 
 individuals should persist, and yet be different, in which they 
 should comprehend and will and enjoy the world order, and yet 
 be distinct from one another, too, and so love one another and 
 constitute a society, would not that be much better? In such 
 an immortality we would know our friends ; while sharing a 
 common world and a common life, each should after all mirror 
 the universe in his own particular way, and be himself. "Mech- 
 thild of Magdeburg, and after her Dante, saw Deity as a flame 
 or river of fire that filled the Universe ; and the 'deified' souls 
 of the saints as ardent sparks therein, ablaze with that fire, one 
 thing with it, yet distinct," 25. Is it possible to work out a 
 philosophical conception of immortality which at the same time 
 would identify all finite souls with God, and also afford to each 
 a distinct individuality? 
 
 Among the absolute idealists Royce perhaps has made the most 
 earnest effort to effect this combination. In his Ingersoll Ad- 
 dress, entitled the Conception of Immortality, he strongly in- 
 sists upon the unique and distinctive worth of each human be- 
 ing. No one of us can take the place of another. In a friend 
 or a lover there are unique qualities of value which exist in no 
 one else. Yet it is impossible to define or to describe these 
 qualities adequately ; for when we attempt to do so we are ob- 
 liged to make use of general terms that apply to types of 
 classes, and overlook the uniqueness itself. So in our present 
 life we cannot define or describe what we mean by a finite- 
 individual. No biographer or historian ever has adequately 
 defined or described Abraham Lincoln or any other man in so 
 far as he was a unique individual ; and no one ever will. Yet 
 we know that there are such individuals, and that their unique 
 individuality is most valuable and precious to those who appre- 
 ciate them. We can at least say that the individuality of the 
 finite being is always of great value ; and that each such person 
 expresses a purpose. As finite persons our purposes are never 
 fully realized in this life; our attempts to carry out any pur- 
 pose always lead us on into wider relations with other persons 
 and into larger purposes. The completion of purposes in an 
 absolute sense would have to mean identification with God, as 
 the Absolute, in whom there is a unity of entirely completed 
 purposes ; only He is an entirely whole Individual. It is clear, 
 therefore, that our ultimate destiny must be to attain a closer 
 
436 IMMORTALITY 
 
 union with God than we now possess. "A will satisfied has in 
 God's whole life found its goal, and seeks no other." Yet this 
 does not mean that it is our destiny after death to be absorbed 
 in God, so as to lose our present identity. The very fact that 
 we are now unique, though finite, indicates that we constitute 
 values or purposes that are integral parts of God's complete 
 purpose. If the whole is a complete fulfillment of purpose, then 
 every fact in the world occupies its unique place. We there- 
 fore conceive eternal existence in God in such a way that our 
 distinctness and uniqueness as individuals are none the less 
 maintained. 
 
 How the uniqueness of the finite individual is to be preserved, 
 Royce endeavored to set forth more explicitly in the closing 
 lectures of the World and the Individual. His treatment there 
 is often obscure, and raises the suspicion that it may not have 
 been entirely clear in his own mind. The finite individual, how- 
 ever, he maintains, is immortal in various senses. He persists 
 in the eternal time span of God as an individual with a purpose 
 and value; this truth, which is not perceived in the finite con- 
 sciousness of a human being in this life, will be clear to the 
 larger individual which one will become in the future life. The 
 apparent death of a human being is only an incident in the 
 life of a larger individual Self ; this larger Self continues, it 
 remains in individual contrast with the rest of the world, and 
 the same is true of the human being who is a necessary phase 
 of this Self. A human being is an ethical self, that is, a per- 
 son with a moral purpose, a duty, to perform, which is infinite 
 and can never be fulfilled in time ; this fulfillment comes in the 
 place that it occupies in the eternally fulfilled social life of the 
 Absolute. Royce tries to make his meaning clearer by mathe- 
 matical analogies. The various collections of whole numbers 
 can be arranged in different series, so that, while each collec- 
 tion is infinite, it is unlike every other, and yet all are inter- 
 related. So each individual Self persists in the Absolute, 
 unique, and yet in communication with the others. "Our result 
 is this: Despite God's absolute unity, we as individuals, pre- 
 serve and attain our unique lives and meanings, and are not 
 lost in the very life that sustains us, and that needs us as its 
 expression. This life is real through us all; and we are real 
 through our union with that life," 26. 
 
 This is certainly a resolute attempt to afford a unique im- 
 mortality to the individual soul, which yet exists after death 
 
THE AUTHOR'S OPINIONS 437 
 
 only in a God who is eternally perfect and complete. Those 
 who are unpersuaded will think that no more genuinely indi- 
 vidual immortality has been gained by it, than by other pre- 
 sentations of immortality in God. According to critics of 
 Royce's last book, the Problem of Christianity, he there suc- 
 ceeds better in maintaining the separateness of individual souls 
 and their social union in the Church, but at the cost of making 
 God seem scarcely more than a name for the collective life. 
 Royce believed that the two books are in harmony with each 
 other ; we know God through society, and gain our very indi- 
 viduality and personality through society also. 
 
 (4) The Author's Opinions 
 
 The author is greatly attracted by Royce's attempt to afford 
 separate immortality to individuals and yet to make them one 
 with God in the future life. He believes that Royce has not 
 fully met the difficulties, but that along this line future thought 
 on Immortality can profitably proceed. However, unlike Royce, 
 he does not believe in a perfectly completed universe present in 
 an eternal time span to the mind of God. 
 
 The author, as has been explained in previous chapters, be- 
 lieves God to be finite, and the universe to be developing in 
 time. He believes in an immortality in the mind of this finite 
 God, in which our separate identities will continue. The moral 
 postulates seem to sanction belief that somehow our finite in- 
 dividualities shall thus persist, while it seems both more morally 
 desirable and less open to the difficulties suggested by science, 
 to suppose that we shall live in God, as distinct and unique 
 aspects of His personality rather than in separation from Him 
 as we now are. 
 
 What the author favors, then, is an immortality in which 
 separate individuals shall persist, know one another, and enjoy 
 a mutual society ; but that this existence shall be in God, and 
 not as souls separated from Him and from one another by 
 physical bodies as is now the case. This immortality would be 
 a life on an immeasurably higher moral and spiritual plane 
 than any of which we now can conceive; in this sense it may 
 be called a state of bliss. But in an imperfect and growing 
 universe, immortality in a finite God cannot be free from pains 
 and sorrows, from evils to be overcome. We shall share in all 
 the good that God knows ; we shall also share in sorrow at the 
 evil which He also knows and is endeavoring to overcome ; united 
 
438 IMMORTALITY 
 
 with Him in knowledge, affection, and volition, we hall fight 
 with Him in the cosmic battles and rejoice with Him in His 
 and our victories. 
 
 VII Salvation and Damnation 
 
 Have the theological notions of salvation and damnation, 
 which have come down to us from the past, any significance for 
 philosophical theories of immortality today? Well, we can 
 neither regard the description of the harps and golden pave- 
 ments and pearly gates nor that of the fire and brimstone 
 as literal truths. If true at all, it must be in a symbolical 
 sense. And the idea of an angry God and cruel devils taking 
 delight in the torture of the lost is impossible for us. God 
 must be at least as loving and humane as we are, and we are 
 morally above taking such delight. Nor could modern ethics 
 regard such punishments as "eternal justice" in view of present 
 knowledge of the evolution of moral conceptions. 
 
 Still these doctrines, on all the theories of personal immor- 
 tality that we have been considering, are not without signi- 
 ficance. 
 
 (1) If the hypothesis of an immortality of separate souls 
 be accepted, it would be logical to suppose that each soul will 
 begin its next existence in circumstances consequent upon its 
 life here. The inevitable natural consequences of right doing 
 here will afford development and opportunity in the next life ; 
 of wrong doing, the reverse. In the vision of Er in Plato's 
 Republic, the souls are free to select their own careers in their 
 next lives before becoming reincarnated. No God punishes or 
 rewards them by making the selection for them. But each soul 
 chooses in accordance with its own character; it is attracted 
 to whatever its past life has led it to appreciate. The law of 
 karma in philosophical Brahmanism and Buddhism makes one's 
 next existence, whether better or worse than the present, the 
 just and inevitable consummation of past conduct. And John 
 of Patmos was told by the angel, "He that is unrighteous, let 
 him do unrighteousness still; and he that is filthy, let him be 
 made filthy still : and he that is righteous, let him do righteous- 
 ness still: and he that is holy, let him be made holy still," 27. 
 This is not a judicial decree handed down from above; it is 
 merely a natural law that each should be what his past life has 
 made him. 
 
 Consider the case of two students now in college. Suppose 
 
SALVATION AND DAMNATION 439 
 
 that one of them does faithful work in his studies and makes 
 a brilliant record, while the other wastes his time in idleness 
 or dissipation, or allows himself to become so absorbed in 
 athletics or other student activities that he has no time to obtain 
 a real education. After graduation, the faithful student will 
 begin the next stage in his life under better advantages, and 
 he will be capable of larger things than the other student, 
 supposing of course, that their natural abilities were approx- 
 imately equal when they entered college. And this is no judg- 
 ment imposed on the two students by an angry God. It is like 
 the choices made in the vision of Er, or the law of karma, or 
 the angel's saying in the last chapter of Revelation. Yet, of 
 course, a man who has made a poor record in college may 
 awaken when he gets out into the world, and with effort he can 
 in some measure retrieve the ground he has lost. He is not 
 absolutely condemned to mediocrity for the rest of his life on 
 account of the mistakes he made in college, though he will prob- 
 ably never enjoy the culture that a liberal education might have 
 afforded him. 
 
 This is not in conflict with acceptance of some aspects, at 
 least of the doctrine of atonement. A repentant sinner be- 
 comes a different self because of the atoning deed of his 
 Saviour, both in this life and in the next. He is truly saved. 
 But for this to take place, he must sincerely repent of his 
 wrong doing, and voluntarily make the atonement his very own, 
 and so be converted. 
 
 (2) If the hypothesis of immortality in God be preferred, 
 this, too, affords a meaning to the notions of salvation and 
 damnation. Who desires to live eternally in the mind of God 
 as a bad memory, as an evil life whose wicked deeds had some- 
 how to be atoned for and turned into good by the sacrifice and 
 suffering of others? What more horrible damnation could 
 there be then eternally to exist in the mind of God as a Nero, 
 or a Judas Iscariot or a Benedict Arnold ! Such souls in a 
 sense would be forgiven like the strident notes in the sym- 
 phony, they contribute to the harmony of the whole they 
 would be one in the universal Mind with the heroes and saints 
 and martyrs, but how utterly different the roles that they must 
 forever play in that eternal life ! 
 
 VIII The Author's Opinions on Salvation and Damnation 
 If a selection of features from these two views be combined 
 
440 IMMORTALITY 
 
 with the hypothesis of a finite God, as favored by the author, 
 the conceptions of salvation and damnation will also retain 
 significance. To be "in Heaven" may mean the consciousness 
 that one's life on earth has harmonized with the general plans 
 of God, so that one in consequence has become capable of 
 sharing more completely in an understanding and apprecia- 
 tion of His life with its triumphs and sorrows. To be "in 
 Hell" would be a state of self-reproach and mortification be- 
 cause one perceives that one's earthly life has through one's 
 own fault been a reverse or an impediment to the onward pro- 
 gress of the universe that God is seeking to effect, which has 
 had to be retrieved and made good by others, and to feel one- 
 self unworthy and incapable of entering into intimate com- 
 munion with God and with other souls. 
 
 To be "in Purgatory" might mean that in consequence of 
 one's shame, sorrow, and repentance one has the opportunity 
 to help to retrieve one's failures in some way, or to undo 
 the evils that have come to the world's progress through one's 
 own fault. One would thus have the privilege of oneself making 
 good, or of assisting to make good, the consequence of one's 
 wrong doing, instead of suffering the humiliation of helplessly 
 witnessing one's failures wholly atoned for by others. Possibly 
 the soul "in Purgatory" might have the chance to become again 
 reincarnated in a physical body, and thus be given another 
 trial in a life led under bodily conditions in which to prove 
 himself worthy of a higher state of existence in God. 
 
 Perhaps it may be hoped that no one shall forever remain 
 in the state of "Hell," but through repentance ultimately enter 
 that of "Purgatory." At all events divine justice must signify 
 that every one shall ultimately attain to as high a place in the 
 universe as he can fill. Promotions shall strictly be upon a merit 
 basis. There shall be no retribution for past misdeeds except 
 in the incapacity for higher service that these necessarily cause, 
 in reforming punishments and in opportunities to make good 
 the harm caused by past failures. 
 
 IX Conclusion 
 
 The solid ground on the subject of immortality is that out- 
 lined at the opening of the chapter under the caption of "Im- 
 mortality as a Fact." This is assured. This no man can take 
 from us. Faith is not needed to believe in it. It affords im- 
 measurable solace to sorrowing souls, and furnishes a powerful 
 incentive to lives of service. 
 
CONCLUSION 441 
 
 But those who have faith and imagination can venture fur- 
 ther, and get additional comfort and inspiration in believing 
 in "Immortality as a Postulate." The entire consideration of 
 this latter has been highly speculative and imaginative. Dis- 
 cussion of such matters must be so, if it is to be fruitful at all. 
 Those who forever keep their eyes on the ground can never see 
 the stars. Only a daringly speculative philosophy that does not 
 hesitate to employ analogies, where there are few facts on which 
 to reason, can suggest the possibilities open to us if we accept 
 seme type of personal immortality as a postulate. 
 
 Every man who chooses to believe in immortality as a postu- 
 late should accept whatever view of it can meet these three tests : 
 (1) strict accordance with the facts known to science that in 
 any way bear upon the subject; (2) satisfaction of the impli- 
 cations of a universe that is at least partially teleological and 
 moral; (3) logical consistency with his other philosophical be- 
 liefs. Let everyone accept and be guided in his life by what- 
 ever conceptions of immortality, after candid and thoughtful 
 reflection, seem to him most fully to meet these tests. And, 
 whatever may be his conclusions, in detail, he will decide that, 
 in an ultimate sense, the Socrates of Plato's Apology is right 
 in affirming that "no evil can happen to a good man, either 
 in life or after death." 
 
 REFERENCES 
 
 * WILLIAM JAMES, Human Immortality. 
 
 *LOWES DICKINSON, Is Immortality Desirable? 
 
 *Huoo MUNSTERBERG, The Eternal Life. 
 
 *JOHN FISKE, Life Everlasting. 
 
 *G. T. FECHNER, Life After Death. 
 
 *B. H. STREETER, et al., Concerning Immortality. 
 
 MAMES BISSETT PRATT, The Religious Consciousness, Chapter XI. 
 
 MOSIAII ROYCE, The Conception of Immortality. 
 
 *E. C. WILM, The Problem of Religion, Chap. VI. 
 
 *DURANT DRAKE, Problems of Religion, Chap. XXIV. 
 
 PLATO, Phaedo. 
 
 IMMANTJEL KANT, Critique of Practical Reason. 
 
 Other technical references will be found in NOTES to the Chapter. 
 
NOTES 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 1. For those who wish to begin their study with these lowliest races, 
 presumably most like primitive man, the author would suggest starting 
 with Wilhelm Wundt, Elements of Folk Psychology (trans.) chap. I; and 
 W. J. Sollas, Ancient Head Hunters and Their Modern Representatives. 
 
 2. . Durkheim, Elementary Forms of the Religious Life (trans.) pp. 
 91, f. 
 
 3. Baldwin Spencer and F. J. Gillen, The Native Tribes of Central 
 Australia, p. 18. 
 
 4. Idem, p. 25. 
 
 5. Idem, p. 223. 
 
 6. Idem, pp. 271, f. 
 
 7. A good summary of the various facts and theories of totemism will 
 be found in Professor Crawford Howell Toy's Introduction to the History 
 of Religions, chap. V. The best theoretical discussion is probably that by 
 Professor LeVy-Bruhl, Fonctions mcntales dans les races infSrieures, which 
 is largely based upon Australian totemism. 
 
 8. Spencer and Gillen, The Northern Tribes of Central Australia, p. 326. 
 
 9. Spencer and Gillen, The Native Tribes of Central Australia, p. 11. 
 
 10. fi. Durkheim, Op. cit., Book II, Chapters VI, VII. 
 
 11. This is probably too dimly conceived for the question to occur to 
 the native whether one or many such forces are operative in the different 
 ceremonies. The whole conception is too hazy for him to have numerical 
 or other clearly defined attributes. 
 
 12. Spencer and Gillen, The Native Tribes of Central Australia, pp. 
 l?4-lf?6; 265, 337, f. 
 
 13. Dr. R. R. Marett, (The Threshold of Religion, chap. VI) advances 
 the interesting theory that gods, when they do appear, are an evolution 
 from the 'bull-roarer.' This appears too simple to serve as a complete 
 explanation of the origin of deities; but it may indicate one of the factors 
 operative in this evolution. 
 
 14. A. W. Howitt, The Native Tribes of South-East Australia, pp. 500, 
 f; 506, f. 
 
 15. Idem, pp. 741, f. 
 
 16. Spencer and Gillen, idem, pp. 280, f. 
 
 17. B. Malinowski,. "The Economic Aspect of the Intichiuma Cere- 
 monies," (published in English in the Festskrift tilhgnad Edvard Wester- 
 marck, Helsingfors, 1912) pp. 81-108. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 1. W. H. R. Rivers, The Todas. 
 
 2. Irving King, The Development of Religion, pp. 238, 241. 
 
 3. Professor L. Le"vy-Bruhl (Les fonctions mentales dans les societes 
 inferic.urcs) certainly has at least shown that savages do not employ log- 
 ical categories as effectively as we do, though he may have overstated his 
 thesis, cf. W. K. Wright, "The Genesis of the Categories" in The Journal 
 of Philosophy, Psychology and Scientific Methods, vol. X (1913) pp. 645-657. 
 
 4. R. H. Codrington, The Melanesians, pp. 118, ff. 
 &. Idem, pp. 125, f. 
 
 143 
 
CHAPTERS II-V 443 
 
 6. These have been taken from the numerou* illu*trations givtn by 
 Dr. Marett (The Threshold of Religion) and PrfMr Kinj (tp. fit.) 
 1. R. R. Marett, op. cit., p. 119. 
 S. See p. 14 above. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 1. John Roscoe, The Baganda, an account of their native cuitotm and 
 beliefs. London, 1911. For those who would like to compare with the 
 Baganda another savage people whose religion has reached a somewhat 
 comparable stage of development, and has also been reported with scien- 
 tific accuracy, the author recommends The Pagan Tribes of Borneo by 
 Charles Hose and William McDougall, London, 1912. 
 
 2. Roscoe, op. cit. p. 27$. 
 
 3. Idem, p. 283. 
 
 4. Ibid, p. 284. 
 
 5. Idem, p. 338. 
 
 6. Idem, p. 344. 
 
 7. William McDougall, Social Psychology, pp. 288-293. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 1. Cf. my paper, "The Relation of the Psychology of Religion to the 
 Philosophy of Religion," Philosophical Review, XXVII, especially pp. 
 141-143, giving criticisms of Professor Ames, Professor Coe and Professor 
 Watson in this connection. A similar position to mine is held by Profes- 
 sor J. B. Pratt, The Religious Consciousness, Chapter I. A fuller explana- 
 tion of the expression ""socially recognized" will be found in my paper, 
 "A Psychological Definition of Religion," American Journal of Theology, 
 XVI, pp. 389 ff, where are indicated the reasons for its choice rather than 
 the more vague w sorirl values." This is in order to allow full recognition 
 to the contributions of such writers as W. Robertson Smith, Irving King, 
 C. H. Cooley, and J. Mark Baldwin, on the one hand, and at the same 
 time to guard against "the exaggeration of the social" which Professor 
 Warner Fite has exposed in a paper of that title (Journal of Philosophy, 
 IV, 393, ff, as well as in his Individualism). 
 
 2. Cf. A. O. Lovejoy, "The Desires of the Self-Conscious," Journal 
 of Philosophy, etc., IV, pp. 29-39. 
 
 3. G. A. Coe, "Religious Value," Journal of Philosophy, etc., 1908, 
 p. 253. 
 
 4. J. H. Leuba, "The Contents of the Religious Consciousness," 
 Monist, XI, pp. 536-573. 
 
 5. J. G. Frazer, Golden Bough, vol. I, pp. 139-166, gives numerous 
 instances. 
 
 6. This definition was originally set forth in an article published in 
 the American Journal of Theology ,' vol. XVI (1912), pp. 385-409. It was 
 immediately criticized by Professor James H. Leuba (same journal and 
 volume, pp. 643-645). I trust that in the present chapter I have removed 
 the ambiguities that provoked two of Professor Leuba's criticisms. With- 
 in "conservation" of values, I include the quantitative increase of values. 
 The "feeling of dependence" upon the agency excludes dependence upon 
 forces believed to be merely physical and mechanical. I claim to have 
 succeeded in showing the difference and the relationship between magic 
 and religion, though here my position is different from, that of Professor 
 Leuba. 
 
 I admit that many of Professor A. C. Watson's criticisms of my 
 definition ("The Logic of Religion," American Journal of Theology, vol. 
 XX, 1916, pp. 92-95; 244-248) are justified. But I cannot see that he hae 
 improved matters with his definition of religion as "a social attitude 
 
444. NOTES 
 
 toward the non-human environment." (1) He fails to make any clear- 
 cut distinction, or statement of relationship, between the religious and 
 certain other social attitudes toward the non-human environment, such as 
 the aesthetic. (2) His definition is needlessly abstract in failing to state 
 the end of religion which I claim to be the conservation of socially 
 recognized values. In this respect he is even farther from the "concrete 
 Universal" than I. (3) He does not bring out the fact that the values 
 of religion often are more concerned with the adjustment of individuals 
 to one another than to their non-human environment. However, Professor 
 Watson's attempt to define religion is one of the best that has been made 
 in recent years. 
 
 Professor G. A. Coe (Psychology of Religion, pp. 62, f.) criticizes 
 my definition on two grounds. (1) It limits the values involved in relig- 
 ious consciousness to those already socially recognized; this does not allow 
 for the work of the prophet, who dissents from socially recognized values 
 and makes appeal to what he regards as a higher standard. In reply I 
 would say that the Hebrew prophets, whom I suppose he has chiefly in 
 mind, were endeavoring to secure the conservation of values already rec- 
 ognized (if not acted upon) by groups within the nation, and that the 
 prophets believed to be values for which Yahweh and his religion in its 
 pristine purity had stood. I do not mean to imply that the "socially 
 recognized" values of religion are always dominant in the practises of a 
 nation I fear that they rarely are but only that they are socially recog- 
 nized by groups, perhaps minority groups, as morally right and desirable. 
 Moreover, the Hebrew case is exceptional. In our time, nobody surely 
 hopes for the promotion of novel social movements by the churches and 
 synagogues; all we expect of them is that they will instil loyalty to the 
 moral principles of our fathers, and ultimately give their support to such 
 proposed reforms as shall previously have stood the fire of criticism, and 
 made considerable headway. There almost always are people in secular 
 life far better qualified to initiate a novel social movement than a clergy- 
 man or other primarily religious worker. 
 
 (2) Professor Coe objects to my finding the differentia of religion 
 in the means whereby certain ends are sought, and not in the ends them- 
 selves. This is true. But I claim that it is impossible otherwise to find 
 a differentia for religion. Professor Coe himself admits that religion does 
 not introduce any new value (p. 70). He believes that it is "an opera- 
 tion upon or within all our appreciations" (ibid.) ; "an immanent move- 
 ment within our valuations" (p. 72). Well, so it is. But so is Ethical 
 Culture. The logical conclusion from Professor Coe's conception would 
 be, that all attempts at moral or social synthesis are religious. But i'f I 
 follow him, Professor Coe means to limit religion (after it has become 
 differentiated and passed beyond its primordial beginnings) to those at- 
 tempts at synthesis that imply faith in some kind of a divine order. Well, 
 then, why does he not say so, and make this faith the differentia of 
 religion? 
 
 7. Mary H. Kingsley, West African Studies. 
 
 8. A. G. Leonard, The Lower Niger and Its Tribes. 
 
 9. J. H. Leuba, The Psychological Origin and Nature of Religion. .4 
 Psychological Study of Religion, pp. 4-7; 57-69. 
 
 10. These illustrations have mostly been borrowed from L. T. Hob- 
 hovse, Morals in Evolution. Part II, chapter I. 
 
 11. In this explanation, as well as for the illustrations, the author is 
 largely indebted to Irving King, The Development of Religion, pp. 179, ff. 
 
 12. W. G. Sumner, Folkways, p. 25. 
 
 13. W. Robertson Smith, Religion of the Semites, 2d. ed., p. 59. 
 
CHAPTERS V-VIII 445 
 
 14. This distinction between mediate and immediate interest is stated 
 by Professor John Dewey, Interest as Related to Will, pp. 15, if. (Chicago 
 University Press, 1903). 
 
 15. Op. cit. cf. note 6, above. 
 
 16. C. E. Seashore, "The Play Impulse and Attitude in Religion," 
 American Journal of Theology, April, 1910. 
 
 17. Chapter XIV, section VI, pp. 229, 230. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 1. E. S. Ames, Psychology of Religious Experience, p. 117. 
 
 2. LeVy-Bruhl, Les fonctions mentales dans les socie'te's infe"rieures, 
 Chapter II, and passim. 
 
 3. Spencer and Gillen, The Natives of Central Australia, p. 338. 
 
 4. Idem, see Index under Iruntarinia. 
 
 5. James B. Pratt, The Religions Consciousness, p. 312. 
 
 6. J. G. Frazer, The Golden Bough, 2d. ed., vol. I, p. 156. 
 
 7. Chapter IV of this book (page* 32). 
 
 8. The account in this section in some respects follows Professor 
 James H. Leuba's A Psychological Study of Religion, Chapters IV-VI, to 
 which the reader is referred. 
 
 9. J. G. Frazer, op. cit., p. 64. 
 
 10. Idem, p. 68. 
 
 11. Jane Ellen Harrison, Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion, 
 p. 3. 
 
 12. This section is chiefly indebted to Professor L. R. FarnelPs "The 
 Evolution of Prayer" in his Evolution of Religion, from which most of the 
 illustrations are taken. 
 
 13. Tylor, Primitive Culture, vol. II, p. 331. 
 
 14. Charles A. Eastman, The Soul of an Indian, pp. 6-8; cf. pp. 45-47. 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 1. The dates given in this chapter are quite arbitrary. The authori- 
 ties differ widely. If the reader will fix in his mind the order in which 
 the periods came, that is all that matters for the purposes of this book. 
 
 2. Edward Washburn Hopkins, The Religions of India, p. 179; cf. 
 Sata-patha-Brdhmana, ii 2, 2, 6; 4, 3, 14. (Sacred Books of the East, 
 vol. XII, pp. 309, f; 374). 
 
 3. Sata-pataha-Brdhmana, II, 2, 2, 8-14 (Sacred Books of the East, 
 vol. XII, p. 310). 
 
 4. E. W. Hopkins, op. cit., p. 180. 
 
 5. Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, IV, 4, 6. Quoted from George Foot 
 Moore, History of Religions, vol. I, p. 276. 
 
 6. Paul Deussen, Philosophy of the Upanishads (trans.) p. 49. 
 
 7. L. T. Hobhouse, Morals in Evolution, 3d. ed., p. 474. 
 
 8. James Bissett Pratt, India and Its Faiths, pp. 14, 16, 56 f; 66, 176, 
 and passim. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 1. See page 79 above. 
 
 2. T. W. Rhys Davids, Lectures on the Origin and Growth of Relig- 
 ion as Illustrated in Some Points in the History of Indian Buddhism, p. 31. 
 
 3. In the Treatise of Human Nature. 
 
 4. Dhammapada, p. 92, sees. 396, 399, 406, 407, cited from Hobhouse, 
 Morals in Evolution, 3d. ed., p. 485. 
 
 5. Tevigga Sutta, in Buddhist Suttas translated by Rhys Davids, p. 201. 
 
 6. Proceedings of the World's Parliament of Religions, vol. II, pp. 
 876, f. (Held m Chicago in 1893). 
 
 7. Paul Dahlke, Buddhist Essays, (Eng. trans.) p. 343. This author 
 
NOTES 
 
 says that Burman laymen are beginning to start schools and to engage 
 in other forms of missionary effort, in the endeavor to preserve their an- 
 cestral faith from the encroachments of Christianity. 
 
 8. "Then again all beings, O Sariputra, ought to make fervent prayer 
 for that Buddha country. And why? Because they come together there 
 v.'i'th such excellent men. Beings are not born in that Buddha country 
 of the TathSgata Amitayus [i. e., Amida] as a reward of good works 
 performed in this present life. No, whatever son or daughter of a family 
 shall hear the name of the blessed Amitayus, the Tathagata, and having 
 heard it, shall keep it in mind, and with thoughts undisturbed shall keep 
 it In mind for one, two, three, four, five, six or seven nights, when that 
 son or daughter comes to die, then that Amitayus, the Tathagata, sur- 
 rounded by an assembly of disciples and followed by a host of Bodhisat- 
 tvas, will stand before them at the hour of death, and they will depart this 
 life with tranquil minds. After their death they will be born in the world 
 of the same Amitayus, the Tath&gata." (The Smaller Sukhdvati vyuha, 
 10, in Sacred Books of the East, vol. XLIX). As Sanskrit originals 
 have been found, the Amida conception must have originated in India, 
 though its Protestant-like form may be a later Chinese and Japanese 
 development. 
 
 9. G. F. Moore, History of Religions, vol. I, pp. 140, 141. 
 
 10. Fifty Years of New Japan, edited by Count Okuma, vol. II, p. 75. 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 1. L. R. Farnell, The Higher Aspects of Greek Religion, p. 33. 
 
 2. Arthur Fairbanks, A Handbook of Greek Religion, pp. 120, ff. 
 
 3. De Coulanges, The Ancient City (trans.) p. 44. A longer quotation 
 appears on page 259 of this book. 
 
 4. W. Warde Fowler, The Religious Experience of the Roman People, 
 chapter IV. 
 
 5. L. R. Farnell, op. cit., pp. 56, f. 
 
 6. G. Stanley Hall, Adolescence, vol. II, pp. 251-259. 
 
 7. L. R. Farnell, op. cit., p. 65. 
 
 8. Idem, p. 69. 
 
 9. Jane Ellen Harrison, Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion. 
 
 10. C. H. Moore, Religious' Thought of the Greeks, pp. 27, f. 
 
 11. Gilbert Murray, Four Stages of Greek Religion, p. 80, and passim. 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 1. Spinosa, the greatest philosopher of Jewish race, cannot on the 
 religious side be reckoned a Jew. He contributed nothing to the religion, 
 to which he early became an apostate. For an interesting account of the 
 philosophy of Maimonides, see Professor Isaac Husik's History of Med- 
 ieval Jewish Philosophy; for his place in the development of Jewish the- 
 ology, see Dr. K. Kohler, Jewish Theology, pp. 22-27, 307-309, 386-388 
 and passim, 
 
 2. Joshua VII. 
 
 3. Exodus XX, 5. 
 
 4. Numbers XIV, 11-20. 
 
 5. Judges IV 3, 17-22, V 24-27. 
 
 6. II Samuel XXIV 1, 15-17. According to the book of I Chronicles 
 (written later) it is Satan who prompts David to take the census (XXI, 1). 
 
 7. Genesis III, 8. 
 
 8. Genesis VIII, 20-22. 
 
 9. Genesis XVIII 1-8. 
 10. Amos II, 6. 
 
CHAPTERS VIII-XI 447 
 
 11. Amos IV, 1. 
 
 13. Hosea IV, 1, f. 
 18. Micah II. 
 
 14. Isaiah III, XXVIII. 
 
 15. Jeremiah XIX 5; XXXII 35; I Kings XIV 24; XV 12. II Kings 
 XXIII 7. Exodus XXII 28; Ezekiel XX 25. cf. H. P. Smith, The Re- 
 ligion of Israel, pp. 70-72; 87-89. The denunciations are found constantly. 
 Cf. Amos V 21; Hosea X 1; Isaiah I 11, 12. 
 
 16. Amos V, 14, 24. Here, and in other cases where the quotations 
 differ from the American Revised Version, they are taken from H. P. 
 Smith, Religion of Israel, whose account has largely been followed here. 
 
 17. Micah VI 8. 
 
 18. Isaiah I 16, f. 
 
 19. This evolution was probably not complete prior to the exile, but the 
 tendency had long previously been in that direction. 
 
 20. Jeremiah XXXI 29, 30. Ezekiel XVIII. 
 
 21. E. g., XXIII, XXVII, XXVIII, XXXIV, XL, XLVI, LXIII, 
 XCI, etc. 
 
 22. Ezekiel XXIII, 1-9. 
 
 23. Ezekiel XXXVI 20-28. 
 
 24. Deuteronomy VI, 4-9. 
 
 25. The "ten commandments" in the version of Exodus XX. 
 
 26. E. g., Psalms CXIX; XIX, 7-11; XXXVII, 31; LXXVIII; XCIV, 
 21; CV, 45. Cf. the works of Kohler, Joseph, and Levine in the list of 
 References to this chapter. 
 
 27. Haggai II 20-23. Zechariah VI, 9-15; cf. IV, 1-10. 
 
 28. Chapters XXX and XXXI. 
 
 29. Micah V, 1-3. 
 
 30. Cf. Isaiah IV, 2-5; XI, 1-10; XXXII, 1. f; XXXIII 17, 21. 
 
 31. Chapters XL-LXVI. 
 
 32. Isaiah XLIX, 6. 
 
 33. See Chapter XV, section VII. 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 1. The chief exceptions are Arthur Drews (Christusmythe, Hat Jesus 
 gelebt? Witnesses to the Historicity of Jesus) and William Benjamin 
 Smith (Der vorchristliche Jesus, Ecce Homo (Eng. trans.) For a dis- 
 cussion and refutation of these radicals, cf. Shirley Jackson Case, The 
 Historicity of Jesus. 
 
 2. Zechariah IX, 9. 
 
 3. The Gospel accounts show that Jesus did not incite his followers 
 to military rebellion, and that his whole attitude was one of passive non- 
 resistance. "Blasphemy" against the Jewish religion was not treason 
 against Roman law. The claim to be the Messiah in a purely spiritual 
 sense, could hardly have been seriously objectionable from a Roman point 
 of view. However, if this claim implied that the followers of Jesus 
 though meek and non-resistant, were privately confident that sooner or 
 later, and perhaps very soon, Yahweh would miraculously overthrow the 
 Roman government and establish their Master on the throne of David, 
 one can see that Romans might regard the claim as treasonable, and be- 
 lieve that the movement, if not at once crushed, would develop into an- 
 other fanatical uprising. Professor Richard W. Husband (The Prosecu- 
 tion of Jesus) believes that the trial of Jesus was regular, according to 
 Roman law, that Pilate was obliged to find Jesus technically guilty of 
 treason as legally denned, and so to condemn him when the Jewish council 
 insisted on prosecuting him. Not believing Jesus guilty except in a pure- 
 
448 NOTES 
 
 ly technical sense, Pilate in vain tried to persuade the Jewish leaders not 
 to push their prosecution of Jesus. 
 
 4. Matthew I. Luke I-III. Two ingenious attempts to reconcile the 
 two different genealogies with orthodox claims have been made by the 
 Reverend William H. Bates, D. D., "A Study in the Genealogy of Jesus,'' 
 Bibliotheca Sacra, vol. LXXIV (1917) pp. 321-329, and the Reverend H. 
 W. Magoun, "The Two Genealogies of Jesus," Bibliotheca Sacra, LXXII 
 (1915) pp. 34-48. 
 
 5. See Chapter X, pp. 143-146. 
 
 6. Acts IX, 1-30; I Corinthians XV, 8-10. 
 
 7. Gal. II, 20; Phil. I, 21; Gal. VI, 17 cf. II. Cor. IV, 10, 16; Rom. 
 VIII, 2. 
 
 8. Gal. IV, 19; Eph. Ill, 14-19. 
 
 9. Acts XV, 1-29. The entire epistle to the Galatians powerfully sets 
 forth the Pauline position on this subject. 
 
 10. Contrast I Thess. IV, 13 V. 11 and II Thess. I, 4-12 with Romans 
 VIII, 18-25; XIII, 11, f; I Cor. IV, 5; VI, 2, 3; VII 29-31, and yet more, 
 with Eph. II, 7; Phil. I, 21-24; II Tim. IV, 6-8. (The order in which the 
 epistles were written was probably about as follows: The earliest were I 
 and II Thessalonians. To the middle of Paul's career belong Galatians, 
 I and II Corinthians, and Romans. Among his last epistles are Phillip- 
 ians, Ephesians, and Philemon. If I and II Timothy, Titus and Colossians 
 were written by Paul himself, they are also late; at any rate they are 
 Pauline. The epistle to the Hebrews was not written by Paul, and is not 
 Pauline). 
 
 11. Acts XV, 1-29. 
 
 12. Matthew XVI, 18, 19; John XXI, 15-17. In addition to these pas- 
 sages, Roman Catholic writers make much of the fact that Peter's name 
 is always mentioned first in the lists of apostles (Matt. X, 2; Mark III, 16; 
 Luke VI, 14; Acts I, 13); that he was the first of them to perform a 
 miracle (Acts III) ; the first to make Gentile converts (Acts X), and that 
 when he decided what should be done the other apostles concurred (Acts 
 I, 15-26 and XV, 1-30). Protestants think that these passages at most in- 
 dicate that Peter was the leader of the group, not their ruler; and that 
 James, the brother (Matt. XIII, 55) of Jesus, rather than Peter, made the 
 decision in Acts XV, and appeared in the role of the head of the church 
 so far as there was one. The next step in the Roman Catholic argument 
 is to establish that Peter was the first bishop of Rome. "Babylon" from 
 which I Peter was written (V, 13) is interpreted by them to refer to 
 Rome, and John XXI, 18, 19, to Peter's martyrdom; there. "Clement, the 
 fourth Bishop of Rome, who is mentioned in terms of praise by St. Paul, 
 St. Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, who died in 105; Irenaeus, Origen, St. 
 Jerome, Eusebi'us, the great historian, and other eminent writers, testify 
 to St. Peter's residence in Rome; while no ancient ecclesiastical writer has 
 ever contradicted the statement," says Cardinal Gibbons (The Faith of the 
 Fathers, p. 131). Protestants observe that this evidence is slender, and at 
 best, scarcely goes back of the second century. Modern critical historians 
 think of Peter rather as a Palestinian Jewish Christian than as the founder 
 of a Christian church in the capital of the Gentile world; they do not see 
 how he could have been in Rome while Paul was writing his epistles from 
 there; but they admit the possibility that he may have been there a short 
 time and met with martyrdom under Nero. 
 
 13. Throughout the history of the church, the book of Revelation has 
 been most often questioned. Its place in the canon has certainly led to the 
 unfortunate result that visionaries have kept looking for the imminent ar- 
 rival of the end of the world. Jude has also been questioned; it has seemed 
 to some not very Christlike in its attitude to Christians with different the- 
 
CHAPTERS XI-XIII 449 
 
 ological beliefs from, its author. James and II Peter have often bn 
 questioned in both ancient and modern times. Some of the ancients wiihed 
 to include the Shepherd of Hermas and the Apocalypse of Peter in the 
 canon. The epistles of Clement, Igiiatius, and Barnabas were written 
 early in the second century, and the (Sources of the Didache may belong 
 to the first century. These non-canonical books are all now readily acces- 
 sible both in Greek and English, in the Apostolic Fathers in the Lob 
 Classical Library. 
 
 14. I Cor. XI, 17-34. 
 
 15. James Henry Newman, Development of Christian Doctrine, p. 381. 
 
 16. W. Windelband, History of Philosophy, tr. by J. H. Tufts, Part 
 III, No. 22. The mysticism of St. Augustine will be indicated in Chapter 
 XVII. 
 
 17. See Windelband, op. cit. p. 391. Cf. p. 186 below. 
 
 18. See Chapter XVII, section III. 
 
 1. Comparisons of this sort are frequently made by American Roman 
 Catholic apologists. 
 
 2. John M! Mecklin, An Introduction to Social Ethics. 
 
 3. The name Anabaptists ("rebaptizers") was attached to them by 
 their opponents because, not believing in infant baptism, they required 
 persons who had been baptised in infancy in other communions to be 
 baptised again on uniting with their churches. 
 
 4. After due al owance has been made for the fact that the word "en- 
 thusiasm" has changed somewhat in significance since the eighteenth cen- 
 tury (see Murray's and the Century dictionaries), my statement remains 
 well within the truth. Cf. J. H. Overton, A History of the English Church. 
 From the Accession- cf George I to the End of the Eighteenth Century. 
 Index, under "enthusiasm." 
 
 5. The great authorities for the period are W. E. H. Lecky's History 
 of England in the Eighteenth Century and Leslie Stephen's History of 
 English Thought in the Eighteenth Century. Cf. Canon J. H. Oflerton, 
 op. cit. A concise summary of the spirit of the age will be found in 
 James H. Tufts' The Individual and His Relation to Society as Reflected 
 in the British Ethics of the* Eighte>enth Century, pages 1-5. 
 
 6. Cf. E. Hershey Sneath, The Mind of Tennyson. 
 
 7. Browning never understood philosophy thoroughly. That, I believe, 
 is one cause of his obscurity of expression, which is even more pronounced 
 than usual when philosophical thought isi implied in his poetry. However, 
 the point of view of short poems like Abt Vogler and Rabbi Ben Ezra is 
 unmistakably that of Hegelian or Neo-Hegelian absolute idealism. I think 
 that this is also true of Sordello; but who can be sure what this poem 
 means? The Ring and the Book i's neo-Hegelian in spirit; the truth is the 
 whole, and can only be arrived at by considering the situation successively 
 in all of its aspects, which complement, supplement, and interpenetrate, 
 and are aufgehohen as the poem proceeds. Cf. Sir Henry Jones, Browning 
 as a Philosophical and Religious Teacher. 
 
 8. W. J. Tucker, et al., Progressive Orthodoxy; W. J. Tucker, My 
 Generation. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 1. Cf. T. R. Glover, Conflict of Religions in the Roman Empire, pp. 
 118, f.; The Jesus of History, pp. 47-50; 55, f. 
 
 2. Cf. E. S. Ames, The Psychology of Religious Experience, pp. 188- 
 190. 
 
 3. Professor Hobhouse points out that this emphasis on an ethical 
 
450 NOTES 
 
 change of heart 1's common to both Buddhism and Christianity, Morals in 
 Evolution, third edition, pp. 484, 515. 
 
 4. Colossians, II, 6. 
 
 5. Galatians IV, 9; Romans VIII, 9-11; Ephesians, III, 17-19; I Cor- 
 inthians VI, 17. 
 
 6. John III, 7. 
 
 7. John IV, 14. 
 
 8. John XV, 1, 4, 9'. 
 
 9. John XVII, 21, 23; cf. I, John II, 5, 6, 28; V. 20. 
 
 10. Paul teaches the subjection of women in such passages as Ephesians 
 V, 22-33. Other passages in the New Testament dealing with marriage, 
 divorce, the position of women, and the respective merits of marriage and 
 celibacy are: Matthew V, 31, f; X 35-37; XIX, 3-12; XXII, 23-30. Mark 
 X, 2-12; XII, 19-25. Luke XVI, 18; XX, 27-35. Romans VII, 1-4. I Cor- 
 inthians VI, 12-20; VII; XI, 1-16. Ephesians V, 22; VI, 4. Galatians III, 
 28. Colossians III, 18-21. I Timothy II, 9-15; III, 1-13; V, 1-16. Heb- 
 rews XIII, 4. I Peter III, 1-8. Revelation XIV, 4. 
 
 11. This, at least, is true except for the last two centuries of the middle 
 ages, when the church was in a general condition of decay. The books of 
 Henry Charles Lea (Historical Sketch of Sacerdotal Celibacy; History of 
 Auricular Confession and Indulgences; etc.) can easily be read in a wrong 
 perspective. They might, as a report of the conditions in the times, almost 
 be compared with William T. Stead's // Christ Came to Chicago, as an 
 account of American moral conditions in the closing years of the last cen- 
 tury. 
 
 12. The fact that a few credulous and reactionary Protestants and 
 Roman Catholics continue to publish and to believe idle gossip and mali- 
 cious lies about one another need not qualify what I have 1 said. 
 
 13. This statement would hold true, even if the few extreme higher 
 critics should eventually prove to be right in affirming that we know little 
 or nothing of the historic Jesus of Nazareth. To whatever extent the Jesus 
 Christ whom the Church has been following ever since the synoptic Gospels 
 have existed in their present form is an historic personage or an ideal 
 projected out of the experience of the church, he remains the most effec- 
 tive means (for Gentiles at least) to gain an understanding of God, and 
 to receive dynamic strength from Him. Man could not have formed such 
 an ideal as Jesus Christ, unless God were at least as good as he. (Cf. 
 Douglas C. Macintosh "Is Belief in the Historicity of Jesus Indispensable 
 to Christian Faith?" American Journal of Theology, XV (1911) pp. 362- 
 372; XVI (1912) pp. 106-110). 
 
 14. That Christianity has not always been perfect in its moral history 
 need disturb no one. No Christian denomination has ever claimed to be 
 perfect in its conduct. (The Roman Catholic claim of papal infallibility 
 applies only to dogma, as we have seen). All that the most ardent Chris- 
 tian apologist needs to claim is that organized Christianity has, on the 
 whole, notwithstanding blemishes, been the greatest uplifting moral force 
 in Europe, (and in the lands settled by Europeans) during the last two 
 thousand years. Cf. the References to this Chapter given under the head- 
 ing "Christianity and Moral Evolution." The authors cited are thoroughly 
 objective historians, whose least fault is bias toward Christianity. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 1. It is believed that this chapter will be intelligible to the reader who 
 has no previous acquaintance with psychology. Such readers, however, if 
 they wish to get a better background for the study of religion will find 
 some elementary text helpful. Among the briefer presentations with whose 
 
CHAPTERS XIII-XV 451 
 
 general standpoint this chapter is in agreement are Professor William 
 McDougall's little books, "Physiological Psychology" and "Psychology," 
 and Professor James Rowland Angell's Introduction to Modern Psychol- 
 ogy. -The reader will also find much of value in William James' Psychology, 
 Briefer Course, especially Chapters VIII, X-XII, XXIII-XXVI. 
 
 The author in this chapter is chiefly indebted to Professor William 
 McDougall's Social Psychology, and Dr. Morton Prince's The Unconscious. 
 Cf. also the author's papers, "Instinct and Sentiment in Religion" and 
 "The Evolution of Values from Instincts" published respectively in vol- 
 umes XXV (1916) and XXIV (1915) of the Philosophical Review, and 
 "McDougall's Social Psychology in the Light of Recent Discussion" in the 
 Journal of Philosophy, XVIII (1921). 
 
 2. Morton Prince, The Unconscious, pages 52-59. 
 
 3. Besides The Unconscious, the author has got much light on the sub- 
 conscious from Dr. Prince's The Differentiation of a Personality, and va- 
 rious articles in The Journal of Abnormal Psychology. The best short 
 discussions for the student of the psychology of religion are James Bissett 
 Pratt, The Religious Consciousness, Chapter III, Professor George A. Coe, 
 Psychology of Religion, Chapter XII, Dr. George Barton Cutten, Psycho- 
 logical Phenomena of Christianity. (Cf. Index under "Subconsciousness.") 
 
 4. Professor McDougall, in his Social Psychology, gives separate names 
 to the instinct as a whole (e. g., pugnacity) and its specific emotion (e. g., 
 anger). For the sake of brevity a single name is here given to both instinct 
 and emotion. 
 
 5. This illustration is; given by Professor Graham Wallas, The Great 
 Society, Chapter VIII. Professor Wallas gives an effective criticism of 
 the exaggerated employment of imitation, suggestion, and sympathy. 
 
 6. This illustration is given by Professor McDougall, Social Psycho- 
 logy, p. 78. 
 
 7. These three points are adapted from Professor C. H. Cooley's Hum- 
 an Nature and the Social Order. 
 
 8. Cf. Professor E. D. Starbuck, Psychology of Religion. (Index, 
 under "Age"). 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 1. E. S. Almes, Psychology of Religimis Experience, pp. 211-013. 
 
 2. E. D. Starbuck, Psychology of Religion, pp. 188-184. Italics in 
 original, on p. 194. 
 
 3. James Sully, Studies of Childhood, p. 127, Cf. pp. 120-132, 506-513. 
 
 4. G. A. Coe, Education in Religion, and Morals, p. 219. 
 
 5. John Fiske, The Idea of God, p. 116. 
 
 6. George E. Dawson, The Child and His Religion, pp. 36-46. 
 
 7. Starbuck, op. cit., p. 191. 
 
 8. Cf. the celebrated discussion of "Habit," by William James, given 
 both in his Principles of Psychology, and Psychology, Briefer Course. 
 
 9. Professor Starbuck (op. cit., Chapter XXIV). 
 
 10. Starbuck, op. cit., p. 87. 
 
 11. Starbuck, op. cit., pp. 85-89. 
 
 12. Alexander F. Shand, Foundations of Character, p. 106. 
 
 13. Shand, op. cit., p. 123. 
 
 14. Starbuck, op. cit., p. 91. 
 
 15. William James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 207, foot- 
 note. 
 
 16. Starbuck, op. cit., pp. 91, 114. 
 
 17. Starbuck, op. cit., p. 92; cf. pp. 199-212. 
 
 18. Ames, op. cit., pp. 239-244 
 
 19. James Bissett Pratt, The Religious Consciousness, Chapters VII, 
 
452 NOTES 
 
 VIII. The quotation is from pp. 153, f. 
 
 20. Starbuck, op. cit., pp. 112, f. 
 
 91. G. A. Coe, The Spiritual Life, Chapter ill. 
 
 92. Starbuck, op. cit., p. 310. 
 
 98. James, Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 83. 
 
 24. Idem, p. 165. 
 
 25. Idem, p. 134. 
 
 26. Notwithstanding the conscientious self-reproaches which every good 
 man feels, and with which the writings of the saints abound. 
 
 27. Starbuck, op. cit., Chapter XXIX. 
 
 28. James, Varieties of Religious Experience, lectures XI-XV. He 
 confuses, to some extent, sanctification in general with the peculiar features 
 pf tha saintliness and mysticism of the medieval saints. Sanctification, as 
 discussed in the present chapter, seems to me different from the experiences 
 of the medieval and other great mystics, which will be noticed in Chapter 
 XVII. 
 
 29. Observe that I merely apply the doctrine of ideo-motor action to 
 cases where the idea of an action tends to produce that action. I do not 
 commit myself to the more sweeping claim that all ideas whatever, whether 
 of actions or not, tend to express themselves in movements. 
 
 30. Readers who think this criticism of the revival is too severe may 
 compare it with the discussions by Professor Ames, (op. cit., Chapter, XIV), 
 Dr. Cutten (Psychological Phenomena of Christianity, Chapters XIII, XIV, 
 XVIII), and Professor G. A. Coe (Spiritual Life and Psychology of 
 Religion, Chapter X, and "Revivals" in Index). Professor Ames and Dr. 
 Cutten, by the way, are pastors and Professor Coe is an active layman, 
 each in a different religious denomination that has been famous for its 
 revivalism. More sympathetic are the interpretations of William James 
 (Varieties of Religious Experience} and Professor James B. Pratt (The 
 Religious Consciousness, Chapter IX), neither of whom has been personally 
 connected with a revival denomination. Perhaps the most terrific exposure 
 of the revival, written from a psychological standpoint, is the Rev. Frederick 
 M. Davenport's Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, a work which 
 probably no longer represents its author's opinions, judging from his 
 favorable report of the Billy Sunday revivals in the Outlook, vol. 110 (1915), 
 pp. 311-315. 
 
 31. Starbuck, op. cit., Chapter XI, William James, Varieties of Religious 
 Experience, pp. 176 ff. 
 
 32. The beginner is advised to postpone the consideration of this question 
 (until later on. For the information of the advanced reader it is pointed 
 out that Dr. Cutten's view will be found in his Psychological Phenomena of 
 Christianity, pages 245, f. 255-261, 351, 355, 413-418 and passim; that of 
 William James in Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 511ff. The 
 position favored by the author will be found in his paper, "The Relation of 
 the Psychology of Religion to the Philosophy of Religion," Philosophical 
 Review, Vol. XXVII, pp. 134-149. A similar position is held by Professor 
 James Bissett Pratt, The Religious Consciousness, Chapter II and pp. 5-7, 
 445-447, 458. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 1. The analysis, in sections I-III and V, follows, with modifications by 
 the author, Miss Anna Louise Strong, The Psychology of Prayer. 
 
 2. Cf. Charles Horton Cooley, Human Nature and the Social Order, 
 Chapter III. 
 
 3. Among the spiritual religions, primitive and Southern Buddhism 
 constitute the chief exception to this statement. The "meditation," which 
 some radicals of today would substitute for traditional prayer, appears to 
 
CHAPTERS XV-XVII 453 
 
 be of the monologue type. The author is uncertain how to classify the 
 prayers of Christian Scientists; their doctrines suggest the monologue type. 
 The prayer of a Positivist, if he follows the counsel of August Comte and 
 pictures before his mind the image of an absent wife or mother, would be 
 of the dialogue type. 
 
 4. De Coulanges, The Ancient City (Eng. trans.), p. 44. 
 
 5. A ps3 r chological account of the growth of the conception of Jesus 
 Christ in the experience of the Christian church has been strikingly set forth 
 by President G. Stanley Hall in his Jesus the Christ, in the Light of Psy- 
 chology. How far this book is reliable in its handling of historical and 
 critical material is another question; at any rate, its grasp of the psycho- 
 logical principles involved in the process of idealization of the Christ is 
 penetrating and profound. 
 
 6. Anna Louise Strong, op. cit., p. 84. 
 
 7. Thoughts (translation). 
 
 8. Jowett's translation. 
 
 9. Cited from A Book of Common Worship by the 'New York State 
 Conference of Religion, 1900. 
 
 10. Possibly this assertion is too strong, in view of the evidence furnished 
 by Professor J. B. Pratt, (The Religious Consciousness, pp. 321-323 and 
 footnotes) that naturalistic prayers are common in certain Protestant and 
 Catholic circles numerous enough in each communion to maintain societies 
 and to publish journals. 
 
 11. The doctrine and illustrations set forth in tjiis section are adapted 
 from William James, "The Energies of Men" in Memories and Studies. 
 
 12. G. A. Coe, The Religion of a Mature Mind, pp. 357, f. 
 
 13. The Emmanuel Movement in Boston is a commendable beginning at 
 such cooperation. 
 
 14. Few popular articles on prayer are scientifically sound. An excep- 
 tion is "What God Has Done for Me," by the author of "Finding God in 
 Millersville," American Magazine, October, 1919 (LXXXVIII), pp. 53, ff. 
 An essay along the same lines, to which only slight exception needs to be 
 taken is Prayer, What it Is, and What it Does, by the Rev. Samuel McComb, 
 D.D. (Published by Harper Brothers, 1913.) 
 
 15. James H. Leuba, "The Contents of the Religious Consciousness," 
 The Monist, Vol. XI, pp. 536-573. 
 
 16. Psychological Bulletin, 1907, pp. 33, ff. 
 
 17. Further evidence is given by Frank Orman Beck in the American 
 Journal of Religious Psychology, vol. II, pp. 116, ff., who gives the results 
 of a questionnaire. 
 
 18. George Barton Cutten, The Psychological Phenomena of Christianity, 
 especially pp. 14.18; 245, f.; 257-261; 352-355. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 1. James Bissett Pratt, The Religious Consciousness, Chapter XVI. 
 
 2. E. g., Psalms XVII, XXVII, XXX, XXXI, LXIII, CXVI, 
 CXXXIX. 
 
 3. Evelyn Underbill, Mysticism. 
 
 4. Galatians I, 16-18. 
 
 5. Acts XXII, 17-22; II Corinthians XII, 2-4. Evelyn Underbill, The 
 Mystic Way, p. 165. 
 
 6. Acts XIII, 1-3. 
 
 7. II Corinthians XII; Galatians II, 2; Acts XVI, 9; XVIII, 9, 10. 
 
 8. I Corinthians, XIV, 18. 
 
 9. Galatians VI, 17. 
 
 10. I Corinthians XII, 28; XIII, 2; XIV. 
 
454 NOTES 
 
 11. Galatians II, 20; II Corinthians IV, 6; Romans VIII, 16; Phil- 
 lipians I, 21. 
 
 12. Rufus M. Jones, Studies in Mystical Religion, p. IS. 
 
 13. I John IV. 
 
 14. John XIV, 20; VI, 35; X, 7; XV, 1, 5; VI, 53, f.; cf. 56. 
 
 15. John III, 11; XXI, 24. 
 
 16. A. Loisy, Le Quatrieme e"vangile, p. 55; cited from E. Underhill, 
 The Mystic Way, p. 240. 
 
 17. Augustine, Confessions, I, 1 (Pusey's translation in the Everyman 
 Library, p. 1). 
 
 18. Op. cit., p. 134. 
 
 19. George Eliot, Mill on the Floss, Book IV, Chapter III. 
 
 20. Imitation of Christ, Book I, Chapter I; Chapter XXII; Chapter 
 VIII. (Translation.) 
 
 21. George A. Coe, "Sources of Mystical Revelation" in Hibbert Journal, 
 vol. VI ( 1908), pp. 359-372. 
 
 22. George Barton Cutten, Psychological Phenomena of Christianity, 
 p. 36. 
 
 23. Idem, p. 341. 
 
 24. James B. Pratt, op. cit., p. 403. 
 
 25. Julian of Norwich, Revelations (of 'Divine Love, edited by Grace 
 Warrack, Chapter IV. 
 
 26. Cutten, op cit., p. 168. 
 
 27. Proceedings of the Society of Psychical Research, vol. VII, pp. 
 100-110. 
 
 28. The Independent, vol. 70 (1911), pp. 104, f. Current Literature, vol. 
 52 (1912), pp. 73, f. 
 
 29. J. B. Pratt, op. cit., pp. 183-187, and the references therein cited. 
 
 30. Cutten, op. cit., Chapter VIII. 
 
 31. Edward Scribner Ames, Psychology of Religious Experience, Chap- 
 ter XVIII. 
 
 32. R. M. Jones, op. cit., pp. 33-36; 55, f.; 78, f.; 176, f.; 194, f., and 
 passim. 
 
 33. Evelyn Underhill, Mysticism, p. 359. 
 
 34. Henri Joly, Psychology of the Saints (trans.), Chapter III. 
 
 35. Quoted by Joly, op. cit., p. 25. 
 
 36. William James, Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 347, f. ; 304. 
 
 37. James, op. cit., pp. 350, ff. 
 
 The non-Catholic reader should understand that the symbolism of the 
 Sacred Heart is not intended literally. Many Protestants have derived 
 help from a not wholly dissimilar symbolism expressed in Cowper's hymn, 
 "There is a fountain filled with blood." The only fair test is the actual 
 fruitfulness of such symbolisms in the lives of those who make of them. 
 
 38. For an eloquent passage in eulogy of the great mystics, the reader 
 is referred to Evelyn Underhill, Mysticism, pp. 514, f. On the other side 
 there is the judgment of Mrs. Anna Robeson Burr (Religious Confessions 
 and Confessants), endorsed by Professor Pratt, (op. cit., pp. 467, f.) that 
 ecstatics as a class are characterized by a "lack of creativeness and a paucity 
 of original ideas," and that whaFthey did accomplish was usually done in 
 spite of their mysticism rather than because of it. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 1. In saying that "God comes to self-consciousness in the human race," 
 or that He "comes to self-consciousness in the mind of an individual human 
 being," the author does not mean to imply that God is not already^ self- 
 conscious, both in other finite beings, and in the world as a whole, which he 
 believes to be the case. 
 
CHAPTERS XVI-XYIII 455 
 
 2. Quoted from J. E. Creighton, An Introductory Logic, 3d. ed., pp. 
 397, f. 
 
 3. It will not be necessary in this book to consider how far these state- 
 ments require modification to be acceptable to advocates of the Einstein 
 theory of relativity, as no such modifications would affect the arguments 
 of this and later chapters. 
 
 4. Popular statements of such idealistic arguments will be found in 
 E. C. Wilm, Problem of Religion, Chapters III and IV; A. K. Rogers, The 
 Religious Conception of the World; and Friedrich Paulsen, Introduction 
 to Philosophy, Book I, Chapter II. Berkeley's Dialogues Between Hylas 
 and Philonous, and Fichte's Vocation of Man are delightfully written 
 classical presentations of idealism that are intelligible to the beginner. 
 
 5. Lawrence J. Henderson, The Fitness of the Environment, p. 271. Cf. 
 Philosophical Review, vol. XXVII, p. 276. 
 
 6. L. J. Henderson, Fitness of the Environment, p. 276. The reader 
 who has an elementary knowledge of organic chemistry will find a strong 
 presentation of this argument, with a wealth of scientific evidence, in this 
 book, and also in Professor Henderson's The Order of Nature. 
 
 7. L. J. Henderson, Fitness of the Environment, p. 307. 
 
 8. L. J. Henderson, The Order of Nature, especially Chapter X, "The 
 Teleological Order." 
 
 9. L. J. Henderson, Fitness of the Environment, pp. 66; 109, f ; 263-267. 
 Although he does not go into philosophical and religious considerations, like 
 teleology, Professor J. W. Gregory in The Making of the Earth furnishes 
 a number of illustrations that could readily be made into teleological argu- 
 ments, like Professor Henderson's (cf. pp. 75-77; 128-133; 206, f.; 214, f. 
 
 10. Such theories as Bergson's cannot be adapted to the properties of 
 matter and the process of cosmic evolution as they are now regarded by 
 scientists, in the opinion of Professor Henderson, Fitness of the Environ- 
 ment, p. 296. 
 
 11. "Teleology," as used in this book, does not involve the "'ftnalism" 
 which Professor Bergson opposes, and which he calls "teleology." 
 
 12. Henri Bergson, Creative Evolution, translated by Mitchell, pp. 
 251-271. 
 
 13. J. S. Haldane, Mechanism, Life and Personality, p. 2. 
 
 14. Ibid. 
 
 15. Jacques Loeb, The Organism as a Whole, From a Physico-chemical 
 Viewpoint. 
 
 16. A strong popular presentation of this point of view is given by 
 D'Arcy Wentworth Thompson in the Proceedings of the Aristotelian 
 Society; N. S., vol. 18 (1917-1918), pp. 436-461. 
 
 17. J. A. Thomson, Bible of Nature, p. 100. 
 
 18. One of the most thoughtful considerations of the analogy between 
 organisms and machines is that by Professor L. T. Hobhouse, (Development 
 and Purpose, Part II, Chapter IV). To Professor Hobhouse's general 
 conclusions the argument in this chapter is largely indebted. 
 
 19. H. S. Jennings, The Behavior of Lower Organisms, p. 234. 
 
 20. We must regard the assumption that terrestrial organisms developed 
 from inorganic matter as inevitable, unless we either suppose that life was 
 brought to the earth from elsewhere in the universe by a fallen meteor (or 
 in some other equally adventitious fashion) ; or unless we are willing to say 
 that the mechanistic sciences are constructions for practical purposes of 
 so wholly unreal and artificial a nature that the very question of a scientific 
 explanation of the origin of life is unmeaning. 
 
 21. This remark applies also to the interesting attempt to show that 
 life has evolved from colloids. (Benjamin Moore, The Origin and Nature 
 of Life). 
 
456 NOTES 
 
 22. J. S. Haldane* Mechantem, Life, and Personality. (New York, 1914) 
 Organism and Environment, as Illustrated by the Physiology of Breathing. 
 (New Haven, 1917) Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, N. S., vol. 
 XVIII, pp. 419-436. The first of the above is perhaps the best exposition 
 of the philosophy of the organism that has been written by a scientist and 
 is of a sufficiently elementary character to meet the requirements of a 
 beginner. 
 
 23. Of course, the author does not mean to imply that Darwinism implies 
 that the struggle for existence is in any sense self-conscious, or even in most 
 animals a conscious struggle for existence. But it is a struggle organisms 
 do not follow passively the line of least resistance like a drop of water. 
 They struggle to do one thing rather than another. If they made no such 
 struggle, if they showed no preference for one condition rather than another, 
 if their behavior were wholly a matter comparable to the laws of inertia 
 and gravity, natural selection in the Darwinian sense could not occur at all. 
 
 24. These difficulties are pointed out, and replied to from a Darwinian 
 standpoint by V. L. Kellogg, Darwinism To-day. 
 
 25. Hans Driesch, The Science and Philosophy of the Organism. 
 
 26. T. H. Huxley, Science and Culture and Other Essays, pp. 245, 2-16. 
 
 27. The claim that "consciousness does not exist" cannot be taken 
 literally. All that the assertion can mean, for those who make it, is that in 
 their opinion consciousness does not exist on the same plane that other 
 psychologists have assumed, that it is not a substance in the sense of matter, 
 etc. Descartes, who is perhaps the founder of mechanistic physiology and 
 psychology, knew that it is impossible to doubt the existence of conscious- 
 ness, and his "cogito, ergo sum" argument at least establishes this for all 
 time. 
 
 28. The best presentation of this doctrine, perhaps, is Professor John 
 Broadus Watson's Behavior, the opening chapter of which will not be too 
 technical for the beginner. 
 
 29. Bergson's doctrine, given in Matter and Memory, is too complicated 
 to summarize here. This allusion in no sense does justice to it. 
 
 80. William McDougall, Body and Mind. 
 
 31. The beginner will find the various mental processes developed from 
 the standpoint of functional psychology in President James Rowland 
 Angell's Psychology, and in his Introduction to Modern Psychology. More 
 advanced discussions are J. R. Angell, "The Relation of Structural and 
 Functional Psychology" and Professor G. H. Mead's "The Definitions of 
 the Psychical," both in the Decennial Publications of the University of 
 Chicago. A Mmilar standpoint is held by Professor C. H. Judd, "Evolution 
 and Consciousness" in Psychological Review, vol. XVII, pp. 77, ff. The 
 point of view held by Professor L. T. Hobhouse, who has made a penetrat- 
 ing analysis of all the factors in mental evolution, may also be classified in 
 a broad way as functional. (Development and Purpose, Mind and Evolu- 
 tion). 
 
 32. Hugo Miinsterberg, Psychology, General and Applied. The meta- 
 physical standpoint is developed in his Philosophie der Werte, of which 
 the English version is likely to be misunderstood. 
 
 33. M. W. Calkins, A First Book in Psychology, pages 273-292. This 
 reference will suffice for the beginner. The advanced reader should also 
 consult Miss Calkins' Introduction to Psychology and her papers in the 
 Journal of Philosophy, volumes IV and V. 
 
 34. L. T. Hobhouse, Morals in Evolution, third edition, p. 596. Cf. also 
 his more popular Social Evolution and Political Theory. 
 
 35. Edward Westermarck, The Origin and Development of the Moral 
 Ideas, vol. II, pp. 186-228; 738-74-6. 
 
 36. Alexander Sutherland, Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct. 
 
CHAPTERS XVIII-XIX 457 
 
 37. William McDou'gall, Social Psychology, especially Chapters VIII 
 and IX. 
 
 38. Since this chapter was written there has appeared The Grand 
 Strategy of Evolution, by Professor William Patten, a biologist. While 
 Professor Patten uses terms in senses of his own, and the word "teleology" 
 does not appear in the Index, his contention throughout is for what I have 
 called teleology. He believes that "there is but one creative process common 
 to all -phases of evolution, inorganic, organic, mental, and social. That 
 process is best described by the term "co-operation or mutual service," 
 (p. 33). "The essential factors at every stage of evolution are service and 
 Tightness," (p. 59). This he illustrates by the preservation of a worm, 
 rnd (on a higher and more varied plane, of course) in the life of man in 
 j-ooiety (p. 60). "We have seen that the one outstanding fact which now 
 dominates the thoughts and acts of intelligent men is evolution, or nature 
 growth, embracing alike all physical, organic, mental, and social phenomena 
 in its spontaneous constructive action, and using them all alike in the con- 
 summation of its creative purpose." Man is compelled to accept "Nature's 
 Constructive Tightness as his ethical standard" and "to recognize in natural 
 growth the expression of a creative will," (p. 412). Professor Patten has 
 at his command a wide range of scientific evidence, and makes a powerful 
 case, which can hardly fail to impress every scientific reader. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 1. Such religions, in the Occident at the present time, put their 
 emphasis upon ethics. It is a question whether they are religions at all, in 
 the sense in which religion has been defined in Chapter V. Noteworthy are 
 the societies of Ethical Culture and of Positivism. They are agnostic rather 
 than atheistic. Cf. Felix Adler's An Ethical Philosophy of Life, and 
 various Ethical Addresses by W. M. Salter; Frederick Harrison, The Creed 
 of a Layman, and The Philosophy of Common Sense; J. H. Bridges, Essays 
 end Addresses. Philosophical presentations of religious positions that do 
 not assume a God are G. S. Santayana's Reason in Religion; R. W. Sellars' 
 The Next Step in Religion; Bertrand Russell's "Free Man's Worship" (see 
 note 16 below) ; and T. H. Huxley's Evolution and Ethics; and, of course, 
 Auguste Comte's Politiqve Positive. 
 
 2. Cf. "The Universal Prayer," by Alexander Pope. 
 
 3. It is a disputed question whether either Lincoln or his audience at 
 the time had an adequate conception of the importance of this address as 
 an interpretation of the events through which they were passing. 
 
 4. Arguments of this general tenor have come down from the times of 
 Fichte and Hegel. The beginner will get much from Fichte's Vocation of 
 Man and Nature of the Scholar. Among more technical works of the 
 present time, the following are to be commended: Bernard Bosanquet, 
 Principle of Individuality and Value, and Value and Destiny of the Indi- 
 vidual; Andrew Seth Pringle-Pattison, Idea of God in the Light of Recent 
 Philosophy; Hastings Rashdall, Theory of Good and Evil, Book III; W. R. 
 Sorley, Moral Values and the Idea of God; and S. Alexander, Time, Space 
 and Deity. 
 
 5. In stating this argument, as well as the next, the author has not 
 deemed it necessary to indicate precisely how far he has adopted and how 
 far modified Kant's famous arguments. The beginner, with a little aid 
 from his teacher, or a commentary, will be able to follow the reasoning along 
 these lines in Kant's Critique of Practical Reason and Fichte's Way to the 
 Blessed Life. He can gain much also from Carlyle's chapter on "The Ever- 
 lasting Now" in Sartor Resartus. The illustration of the "time span" is 
 from Josiah Royce, The World and the Individual. 
 
458 NOTES 
 
 6. The Principles of Human Knowledge and Three Dialogues Between 
 Hylaf and Philonous. Written in masterly and lucid English, they are still 
 perhaps the best introduction to mentalism for a beginner. 
 
 7. The foregoing account follows largely the popular expositions by 
 Josiah Royce, viz: The RcligimM Aspect of Philosophy, and The Spirit of 
 Modern Philosophy, lecture XL Other good popular accounts will be found 
 in E. C. Wilm's Problem of Religion and A. K. Rogers' Religious Concep- 
 tion of the World. The best cdocise statement of contemporary meutalism 
 will be found in Miss Mary W. Calkins' presidential address, "The Person- 
 alistic Conception of Nature," Philosophical Review, vol. XXVIII, (1919). 
 
 8. This view, called "panpsychistn," is set forth in an eloquent and lucid 
 manner in Friedrich Paulsen's Introduction to Philosophy, pp. 87-111. A 
 more technical presentation will be found in Josiah Royce's The World and 
 the Individual, vol. II, pp. 219-242. 
 
 9. The two forms of idealism have been most clearly distinguished in 
 American philosophical literature by Professor J. E. Creighton, "Two Types 
 of Idealism," Philosophical Review, vol. XXVI, pp. 514-536. Cf. Bernard 
 Bosanquet, "Realism and Metaphysics," same volume of the Review, pp. 4- 
 15, and A. S. Pringle-Pattison, The Idea of God, etc., lecture X. There is no 
 elemejntary work representing this standpoint to which a beginner can be 
 referred. Perhaps the nearest approximation is Professor R. F. Alfred 
 Hoernle's Studies in Contemporary Metaphysics. Much help can be gained, 
 in a comparatively untechnical form, from Professor Creighton's articles, 
 which have appeared from time to time in the Philosophical Review, as well 
 as from the Third Part of his Introductory Logic. The standpoint is also 
 held by most of his pupils who have contributed to Philosophical Essays in 
 Honor of James Edwin Creighton. 
 
 10. D. C. Macintosh, Problem of Knowledge, p. 400. 
 
 11. Ibid., pp. 410, 422-431. 
 
 12. W. James, Varieties of Religious Experience, page 515. 
 
 13. W. James, The Will to Believe and Other Essays, pp. 122, 127. 
 
 14. But cf. Horace Meyer Kallen, in Creative Intelligence, a volume of 
 essays edited by John Dewey. Cf. pp. 433-436, 439-445. 
 
 15. The most recent defense of religion from the point of view of prag- 
 matism is by Dr. J. R. Geiger, Some Religious Implications of Pragmatism 
 (in the Philosophic Studies of the University of Chicago). Attention should 
 be called to three volumes by Professor E. S. Ames, The Divinity of Christ, 
 The Higher Individualism, and The New Orthodoxy. Chapters on religious 
 topics will be found in the books of Dr. F. C. S. Schiller, (Riddles of the 
 Sphinx; Humanism; Studies in Humanism). The following books show in 
 some respects the influence of pragmatism: George Burnam Foster, The 
 Function of Religion in Man's Struggle for Existence, and The Finality of 
 the Christian Religion; Professor Irving King, Development of Religion 
 (closing chapter) ; Professor D. C. Macintosh, Problem of Knowledge and 
 Theology as an Empirical Science. 
 
 16. Bertrand Russell, "The Free Man's Worship" in Philosophical 
 Essays, Chapter II, and also in Mysticism and Logic, Chapter III. 
 
 17. Harvard Theological Review, vol. XI (1918), p. 153. This article, 
 "Neo-Realism and Religion," is a valuable report of the status of religion 
 in the new realistic camp. Cf. also Professor Hoernle's article, "The 
 Religious Aspects of Bertrand Russell's Philosophy," Harvard Theological 
 Review, vol. IX (1916), pp. 157-189, and the writings by Russell therein 
 cited. 
 
 18. R. W. Sellars, The Next Step in Religion. 
 
 19. E. G. Spaulding, The New Rationalism) p. 517. 
 
 20. E. G. Spaulding, op. cit., p. 521, 
 
CHAPTERS XIX-XX 459 
 
 91. See Chapter XVIII, Note 18. 
 
 22. Cf. an article in the Harvard Theological Review (1914), pp. 391-895. 
 
 23. Chiefly in his Present Philosophical Tendencies and Moral Economy. 
 
 24. See the preceding chapter, and the discussion of teleological and 
 evolutionary arguments in this chapter. 
 
 25. See the later chapters of Herbert Spencer's Data of Ethics. 
 
 26. The beginner will find these four short essays by John Fiske most 
 satisfactory, especially the second of them: The Destiny of Man; the Idea 
 of God; Through Nature to God; Life Everlasting. "While never willing to 
 commit himself to Fiske's theological reconstruction of his philosophy, 
 Spencer seems to have welcomed it. (Cf. J. Fiske, Essays Historical and 
 Literary, vol. II, p. 29, (first note). He certainly came to feel more kindly 
 toward religion in his old age (Cf. Spencer's Autobiography, vol. II, pp. 
 544-549, and Hugh Elliot, Herbert Spencer, pp. 170, 225-228). Good 
 popular refutations of Agnosticism will be found in President J. G. Schur- 
 man's Agnosticism and Religion and Belief in God. One of the best 
 technical refutations is Professor James Ward's Naturalism and Agnos- 
 ticism^ A good semi-popular refutation is F. C. S. Schiller's Riddles of the 
 Sphinx. The best technical defense of Agnosticism is still, probably, Her- 
 bert Spencer's First Principles. Popular arguments for Agnosticism will 
 be found in the essays of T. H. Huxley, John Tyndall, W. K. Clifford, R. 
 G. Ingersoll, and in E. Haeckel's Riddle of the Universe. 
 
 27. William James, The Will to Believe and Other Essays in Popular 
 Philosophy, especially pages 1-31, 90-110. With this account should be 
 studied Some Problems of Philosophy, pages 221-231, a later and more 
 restrained argument, which he gave to his undergraduate classes at Harvard. 
 In reading the earlier work the reader should bear in mind that James later 
 decided that the essay ought to have been called "the Right to Believe" 
 instead of "The Will to Believe." The chief departure I have made from 
 James in the text is in insisting that all emotional preference ought to be 
 eliminated and that one ought to decide dispassionately, on purely intel- 
 lectual grounds, whether or not there is a God. In urging this I may be 
 preaching a counsel of perfection, but every one certainly ought to make 
 the endeavor to be intellectually dispassionate in considering such a ques- 
 tion. And he ought to remember that people who decide against belief in 
 God are quite as likely to be swayed by emotional prejudices as are those 
 who decide for this belief. 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 1. The terms "traditional theism" and "traditional pajntheism" have 
 been somewhat arbitrarily chosen by the author to designate two rival 
 tendencies in European Christian (and, as well, the author thinks likely, 
 Jewish) thought. The expressions themselves ("theism" and "pantheism") 
 are used in a large variety of senses. If the reader will take the trouble to 
 consult five or six standard reference books, he will find that many thinkers 
 described as "'theists" in one will be called "pantheists" in another. While 
 these two tendencies, in the form in which they are described in this chapter, 
 can be clearly traced in the history of philosophical and religious thought, 
 it is probably true that nearly all the greatest thinkers have been influenced 
 by both of them. 
 
 2. The references in this and the three preceding paragraphs are all to 
 William James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, Lecture XX, and 
 Postscript. 
 
 3. William James, A Pluralistic Universe, pp. 310, f.; cf. p. 318. 
 
 4. Idem, p. 124. The views of John Stuart Mill will be found in his 
 Essays on Religion and Autobiography. A concise summary is given in 
 Hb'ffding's History of Modern Philosophy, Vol. II, pp. 427-433. 
 
460 NOTES 
 
 5. William James, Pragmatism, pp. 72, 80. 
 
 6. William James, The Will to Believe and Other Essays, p. 61. 
 
 7. William James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 519. 
 
 8. Theodore Flournoy, The Philosophy of William James, p. 165. This 
 little book is indispensable for those who wish to study James from the 
 religious standpoint. 
 
 9. Andrew Seth Pringle-Pattison, The Idea of God in the Light of 
 Recent Philosophy, p. 396. 
 
 10. These quotations are from the closing pages of Professor L. T. 
 Hobhouse's Development and Purpose. His other most important philo- 
 sophical works are The Theory of Knowledge; Mind in Evolution; and 
 Morals in Evolution. 
 
 11. From the closing sentences in Morals in Evolution. 
 
 12. The nearest Professor Hobhouse has come to saying this, so far as 
 the author knows, is in the following sentence: "Hence if the [human] 
 mind does not directly through the religious consciousness become aware 
 of its relation to a greater Spirit, it does have to recognize the existence 
 of conditions appropriate to the operation of such a Spirit, and to admit 
 in its own history a process in which such conditions are working out their 
 natural results." {Development and Purpose, pp. 371, f.). Does the clause 
 beginning with "if" express mere uncertainty, or is it to be understood as 
 a statement of fact? For the "if" should we understand "even if," or 
 "although it is true that"? The former alternative would bring him the 
 more closely into agreement with the contention made by me. 
 
 13. Hastings Rashdall, The Theory of Good and Evil, all of Book III, 
 and particularly pages 211-246; 286-294; 335-356. Cf. his essay "Person- 
 ality, Human and Divine," in Personal Idealism (edited by Henry Sturt). 
 Dr. Rashdalfs books are among the most helpful in existence for the Chris- 
 tian student who Believes that an absolutely honest and fearless study of 
 philosophy will be of more value to him in the end than the obscurantism 
 usually found in religious books written by and for clergymen. 
 
 14. Probably Dr. F. C. S. Schiller's first book, The Riddles of the Sphinx, 
 of which a new edition appeared a few years ago, is the most helpful for 
 the beginner. His more recent thought on the subject will be found in his 
 Humanism, New Studies in Humanism, and in various articles during recent 
 years in the British philosophical and theological journals. Dr. Schiller's 
 writing is vigorous, lively, interesting, and usually not too difficult for 
 anyone who has acquired a little acquaintance with Philosophy. 
 
 15. Josiah Royce, The Spirit of Modern Philosophy, pp. 470, f. 
 
 16. Josiah Royce's principal works bearing on this theme are: The 
 Religious Aspect of Philosophy, 1885; The Spirit of Modern Philosophy, 
 1892; The Conception of God (with Howison and others), 1897; Studies of 
 Good and Evil, 1898; The World and the Individual, 2 vols., 1900, 1001; 
 The Philosophy of Loyalty, 1908; The Sources of Religious Insight, 1912; 
 The Problem of Christianity, 1913. A short and useful summary of his 
 philosophy will be found in F. Thilly, History of Philosophy, pages 559-561. 
 The student will find most of the fundamental features of Royce's philosophy 
 of religion in either of the first two volumes mentioned above. The Phil- 
 osophy of Loyalty and parts of the Problem of Christianity are the most 
 untechnical and latest statements of his thought. The World and the Indi- 
 vidual is his fullest and most systematic work. 
 
 17. In this section the author chiefly has in mind the Appearance and 
 Reality of Mr. F. H. Bradley. At times the thought of Professor Bernard 
 Bosanquet seems similar, but on the whole his attitude toward religion is 
 more affirmative. 
 
CHAPTERS XX-XXI 461 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 1. See page 370 above. 
 
 2. See Chapter XII, Section III. 
 
 3. E. L. van Becelaere, in an article on "Grace, Roman Catholic" in 
 Hastings' Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics. 
 
 4. Paradise Lost, Book II, lines 557-561. 
 
 5. William James, Principles of Psychology, vol. II, chapter on "Will"; 
 the principal points also in the corresponding chapter of his Briefer Course. 
 
 6. William McDougall, Social Psychology, Chapter IX. 
 
 7. Th. Flournoy, Philosophy of William James, Chapter VII. 
 
 8. F. C. S. Schiller, Studies in Humanism, p. 415. 
 
 9. William James, Principles of Psychology, vol. II, p. 577, note. 
 
 10. Determinists allege that there are at least two important differences 
 between determinism and fatalism. (1) For the determinist, unlike the 
 fatalist, "we are not bound to a changeless order of conduct. The vast 
 whole of events, linked together as we may believe in Indissoluble bonds, is 
 not a static world, but the sense of movement, change, and life. To hold 
 that the mental sphere is through and through a determinately related 
 sphere, no more excludes from it genuinely new experiences than a similar 
 conception which thinking men are agreed in applying to nature, excludes 
 new events there." (2) Fatalism ignores "the part played by the self, and 
 is inclined to represent human life as the helpless sport of external forces. 
 . . . Fatalism regards human destiny as fixed independently of human 
 action; determinism regards it as fixed only in and through human choice. 
 . . . Dependent upon a cosmic Power we all indeed are, but the fact 
 that this Power accomplishes certain ends only in and through our thinking 
 and willing is disregarded by fatalism." A determinism which recognizes 
 the self as an active and potent factor in shaping human life does not "cut 
 the nerve of moral endeavor and result in stagnation or in a hopeless sur- 
 render to circumstances" as belief in fatalism, would do. W. G. Everett, 
 Moral Values, pp. 363-365. 
 
 11. There are excellent discussions of freedom in various treatises on 
 ethics. Among those on the determinist side may be recommended the 
 chapters on the subject in the following: Professor Andrew Seth, A Study 
 of Ethical Principles; Friedrich Paulsen, System of Ethics; Professor F. 
 Thilly, Introduction to Ethics; Professor W. G. Everett, Moral Values; and, 
 for a more advanced treatment, Dr. Hastings Rashdall, Theory of Good 
 and Evil. Two of the best defences of indeterminism are William James' 
 essay, '''The Dilemma of Determinism" in his The Will to Believe and Other 
 Essays, and Dr. F. C. S. Schiller's essay, "Freedom," published in his 
 Studies in Humanism. A more advanced treatment will be found in Pro- 
 fessor W. R. Sorley's Moral Values and the Idea of God. 
 
 , 12. Some Problems of Philosophy, p. 139. 
 
 13. Studies in Humanism, p. 413, and passim. This is a rather free 
 paraphrase of what Dr. Schiller says. I desire to apologize if I have in any 
 way misinterpreted him. In any case, the argument as I have put it seems 
 to be a good one, from the indeterminist standpoint. 
 
 14. James Ward, The Realm of Ends, page 492. 
 
 15. William James, The Will to Believe and Other Essays, p. 181. This 
 view that the ultimate destiny of things has been decided in advance, and 
 that human, freedom of initiative cannot essentially affect the outcome 
 seems later to have been abandoned by James in favor of the view attrib- 
 uted to him in earlier paragraphs of this section. 
 
 16. James' specific discussions of the freedom of the will are chiefly 
 given in his early philosophical book The Will to Believe and Other Essays. 
 Pluralism is discussed in nearly all his books: that in Some Problems of 
 
462 NOTES 
 
 Philosophy is the latest, and in many ways the best. The Pluralistic Uni- 
 verse is chiefly an appreciative interpretation of other pluralistic philos- 
 ophers with whom he was in sympathy. It contains little that bears on the 
 problem of this section. Besides Dr. Schiller's essay already cited, two 
 papers on this general subject are given in the appendix to the new edition 
 of his Riddles of the Sphinx. 
 
 17. Josiah Royce, The World and the Individual, vol. II, pp. 352-360. 
 
 18. Josiah Royce, ibid., p. 349. 
 
 19. Idem, p. 291. 
 
 20. Ibid., p. 293. 
 
 21. Josiah Royce, Philosophy of Loyalty, p. 395. 
 
 22. Josiah Royce, ibid,, p. 390. 
 
 23. The beginner might first read Josiah Royce, Spirit of Modern Phil- 
 osophy, pages 428-434. This passage will be clearer if Lectures X-XIII 
 are studied in their entirety. A more advanced treatment is given in the 
 World and the Individual, Vol. II, Lectures VII and VIII. Cf. also The 
 Philosophy of Loyalty, Lecture VIII. Royce's treatment of the problem 
 of freedom from the standpoint of Absolute Idealism appears to the author 
 so admirable in every way that he has not supplemented it with the inter- 
 pretations of other writers of the school. Among contemporary discussions 
 the advanced reader is particularly referred to Bernard Bosanquet, The 
 Principle of Individuality and Value, Lecture IX and The Value and Des- 
 tiny of the Individual, Lecture IV. There is a particularly fine pass.-igc 
 in A. S. Pringle-Pattison's The Idea of God in the, Light of Recent Philo- 
 sophy, pages 291-296. Cf. also A. E. Taylor, Elements of Metaphysics, 
 Book IV, Chapter IV. For a discussion of determinism from the realistic 
 standpoint, cf. S. Alexander, Space, Time, and Deity, Book III, Chapter X. 
 
 24. A suggestive discussion of group volition will be found in William 
 McDougalPs, The Group Mind, part II. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 1. Henri Bergson, Creative Evolution, translated by Arthur Mitchell, 
 p. 27. 
 
 2. William James, Human Immortality, p. 27. 
 
 3. Idem, pp. viii, f. 
 
 4. F. C. S. Schiller, Riddles of the Sphinx, revised edition, pp. 28f), f. 
 This explanation is a detail in a very suggestive chapter, in which are set 
 forth illuminating interpretations of evoluton from a Ideological stand- 
 point, and of the relations between God and man. Though the exposition 
 is apparently from a neo-Lamarckian standpoint, most of it could prob- 
 ably be rephrased so that it would accord with other biological interpre- 
 tations of evolution. 
 
 5. Cf. especially Matter and Memory (English translation) pp. xv., 139- 
 169; 225-232. 
 
 6. "The Mind and the Brain" in a collection of papers entitled Con- 
 cerning Immortality, and edited by B. H. Streeter. 
 
 7. William McDougall, Body and Mind. The characteristics of the 
 soul are summarized on p. 365. 
 
 8. Sir Oliver Lodge, The Survival of Man, p. 341. 
 
 9. William McDougall, Body and Mind, pp. 351, f. 
 
 10. Besides the Proceedings of the Society of Psychical Research, the 
 following works are favorable to spiritism and telepathy: James H. 
 Hyslop, Life After Death; Sir Oliver Lodge, The Survival of Man and 
 Raymond; Frank Podmore, Modern Spiritualism; and Frederic W. H. 
 Myers, Human Personality and Its Survival of Bodily Death. A symna- 
 
CHAPTERS XXI-XXII 463 
 
 thetic summary of the status and results of such investigations is given 
 by W. F. Barrett, Psychical Research in the Home University Library 
 series. A telling, and as the author believes, an entirely just criticism, is 
 Amy E. Tanner's Studies in Spiritism. A more sympathetic critic, who is 
 in the author's opinion not sufficiently severe, is Lily Dougall, "The Good 
 and Evil in Spiritism" published in Concerning Imtnortalty, a volume of 
 essays edited by B. H. Streeter. Suggestive is an article by Mathilde 
 Weil, "Experiences of a Medium" in the Yale Review, Vol. IX, pp. 586- 
 598, April, 1920. William James' final opinion will be found in "Final 
 Impressions of a Psychical Researcher" published in his Memories and 
 Studies. The tricks of the ordinary professional medium are exposed by 
 David Phelps Abbott, Behind the Scenes With the Mediums. 
 
 11. G. T. Fechner, Life After Death (English translation); and Zend 
 Avesta. F. Paulsen, Introduction to Philosophy (trans.) p. 243. 
 
 12. H. Miinsterberg, The Eternal Life; cf. his Psychology, General and 
 Applied, Chapter XXII. 
 
 13. James H. Leuba, The Belief in God and Immortality. Cf. the 
 author's review of this book, and Professor Leuba's reply in the Psycho- 
 logical Bulletin for 1918. 
 
 14. James H. Leuba, Belief in God and Immortality, p. 252. Cf. the 
 diagrams on pages 253, 255, 261, 264, and 268. 
 
 15. G. Lowes Dickinson, Is Immortality Desirable? p. 45. 
 
 16. Cf. Chapter XVIII, VII, and Chapter XIX, 11-3. 
 
 17. See pp. 346-350. 
 
 18. Bernard of Cluny, translated by John Mason Neale. 
 
 19. The greatest ancient defender of the doctrine of preexistence was 
 Plato. One of his arguments for it is largely based on his supposition that 
 the ability to form concepts can only be explained by recollection, and that 
 if concepts cannot be traced to previous recollection in this life, they must 
 be due to memories from an earlier state of existence. The simplest state- 
 ment of the doctrine will be found in the Meno. Its more developed forms 
 are given in the Phaedrus and Phaedo. Modern philosophers are able to 
 explain conception without reducing it to a form of recollection; so this 
 argument is now worthless. Another Platonic argument is based on the 
 now discarded doctrine that the soul is a simple substance, and therefore 
 is indestructible and eternal. A beautiful poetical statement of preexist- 
 ence is given in Wordworth's Ode on Imitations' of Immortality. A mod- 
 ern philosophical defender of preexistence is Dr. J. E. McTaggart, Human 
 Immortality and P re-existence and Studies in Hegelian Cosmology, sec- 
 tions 41, ff. 
 
 20. William James, Human Immortality, pp. 32-45. 
 
 21. Spinoza, Ethics, chiefly at the close of Part V. 
 
 22. J. G. Fichte, Way to the Blessed Life (published in Fichte's Popu- 
 lar Works, translation by Kroeger). 
 
 23. H. Miinsterberg, The Eternal Life; and The Eternal Values. The 
 German text of the latter is decidedly preferable, (Philosophic der Werte}. 
 
 24. Such I take to be the view, among others, of Mr. F. H. Bradley 
 (Appearance and Reality, Chapters XXVI, XXVII, Essays on Truth and 
 Reality, Chapters XV, XVI) and of Professor Bernard Bosanquet (The 
 Value and Destiny of the Individual, Lectures IX, X). 
 
 25. Evelyn Underbill, Mysticism, p. 503, Cf. Dante, Paradiso, xxx, 61. 
 
 26. Josiah Royce, The World and the Individual, Vol. II, p. 452. 
 
 27. Revelation, XXII, 11, 12, 
 
INDEX 
 
 ABELARD, 169. 
 
 Abraham, 65, 137. 
 
 Absolute, the, see God. 
 
 Adam, 137. 
 
 Adler, Felix, 457. 
 
 Adolescence, 110, 111, 237-245. 
 
 Agency, the, in religious endeavor, 
 
 44-46, 69, 80, 109, 128, 131, 146, 
 
 209, 286, 287. 
 Agnosticism, 362-364. 
 Alacoque, Blessed Margaret Mary, 
 
 303. 
 
 Alexander Jannaeus, 135. 
 Alexander, S., 360, 390. 
 Alexander the Great, 117, 129, 134. 
 Alter, in prayer, 258, 260, 293. 
 Ambrose, St., 164, 167, 202. 
 Ames, E. S., vi, 68, 149, 213, 235, 
 
 298, 458. 
 
 Amida Buddha, 102, 103, 446. 
 Amos, 138, 144. 
 Amulets, 31, 35. 
 Anabaptists, 180. 
 Ananda, 96. 
 Anaxagoras, 115. 
 Andover movement, 196, 197. 
 Angell, James R., vi, 233, 451, 456. 
 Anglican Church, see England, 
 
 Church of. 
 
 Animism, 48-51, 70, 112. 
 Anne, St., 174. 
 Anselm, St., 169. 
 
 Anthropomorphism, 108, 112-115, 
 
 131, 136, 137, 339, 340. 
 Antiochus Epiphanes, 134, 145. 
 Apocalyptic literature, 145, 146, 152. 
 Apollo, 109. 
 
 Apostolic succession, 159. 
 Aquinas, see Thomas Aquinas, St. 
 Arahat, 89, 100. 
 Aristotle, 116, 128, 332. 
 Ark of the covenant, 132, 133. 
 Arminianism, 179, 180, 392. 
 Arminius, J., 179. 
 Arnold, Matthew, 130. 
 Art and religion, 55, 56. 
 Aryans, early, 69. 
 Asceticism, 79. 
 Asoka, 97. 
 Atheism, 360, 361. 
 Athene, Pallas, 111. 
 Atman, the, 74, 75, 91. 
 Atonement, 66, 164. 
 Attis, 123, 124. 
 Augustine, St., 164, 167, 168, 291, 
 
 392. 
 
 Augustus Caesar, 122, 123. 
 Australians (aborigines) 5, Chap. II, 
 
 38, 39, 45, 51, 52, 61. 
 Awakening of religious sentiment, 
 
 240,-250. 
 Ayer, J. C., Jr., 171. 
 
 BAALIM, 133, 140. 
 
 Bacchic, see Dionysiac. 
 
 Bacchus, 119; see Dionysus. 
 
 Bacon, B. W., 171. 
 
 Bacon, Francis, 186. 
 
 Baganda, the, Chap. IV. 
 
 Baptism, 59, 125, 128, 152, 154, 160, 
 
 177, 180, 181, 184. 
 Baptists, 184, 190. 
 Barton, George A., 84, 107. 
 Beck, F. O., 279, 284, 453. 
 Bible, see Canon. 
 Begbie, see Harold, 250. 
 Benedict XIV., 302. 
 Bergson, H., 314-316, 327, 413, 419. 
 Berkeley, G., 350, 352. 
 Bishops, see episkopoi. 
 Bodlii tree, 86, 97, 98. 
 
 Boddhisattvas, 46, 100, 446. 
 
 Borneo, natives of, 39, 443. 
 
 Boror6, the, 60. 
 
 Bosanquet, B., 390, 457, 458, 463. 
 
 Boutroux, ., 304, 316. 
 
 Bradley, F. H., 463. 
 
 Brahe,' Tycho, 186. 
 
 Brahma, 73-78. 
 
 Brahmanism, chap. VII. 
 
 Brooke, Sir James, 62. 
 
 Brooks, Phillips, 196, 303. 
 
 Brotherhood, the Buddhist, 85, 95, 
 
 96, 105. 
 
 Brown, W. Adams, 213, 390. 
 Browne, Robert, 183. 
 Browning, Robert, 194, 386, 449. 
 Budde, K., 150. 
 
 464 
 
INDEX 
 
 465 
 
 Buddha, ^Gautama Siddartha), 3, 
 13, 45, 46, 79, 85-88, 90, 93, 94, 96, 
 99, 100, 101, 105. 
 
 Buddhism, 6, 45, 46, Chap. VIII., 
 211. 
 
 Bunjil, 15. 
 
 CALKINS, MARY 
 Calvin, John, 178, 197, 391. 
 Calvinism, 178, 179, 182, 183, 184, 
 
 391. 
 
 Canaanites, 132, 133, 138. 
 Canon, 159, 160. 
 Carlyle, Thomas, 194, 457. 
 Cartwright, Thomas, 183. 
 Case, S. J., 171, 447. 
 Catherine of Siena, St., 298, 302. 
 Catholic Church, see Christianity. 
 Ceremonials, 58, 59. 
 Ceremonies, 9-17, 19-24, 60. 
 Ceylon, 97, 98. 
 Chamberlain, T. C., 311. 
 Channing, Wm. Ellery, 195. 
 Charles I., 183. 
 Charles, R. H., 150. 
 China, 98, 102-104. 
 Chivalry, 102, 169. 
 Christianity (in general) 6, 55, 66, 
 
 83, 104-107, 125, 146. 
 
 (ancient) 151-166. 
 
 (and Buddhism) 85, 89, 101-107. 
 
 (the Church) 200. 
 
 (definition of) 151. 
 
 (Eastern) 168. 
 
 (finality of) 208-S12. 
 
 (function of) 205, 206. 
 
 (and Greek and Roman religion) 
 109, 124-129. 
 
 (and Judaism) 146-149. 
 
 (medieval) 101, 166-171, 450. 
 
 (Protestant) 4, 102, 159, 161, 175- 
 197, 448, 449. 
 
 (Roman Catholic) 159, 165, 166, 
 172-175, 206, 207, 392, 448, 450. 
 
 Bunyan, John, 29'2, 302. 
 Burma, 94, 98, 99. 
 Burr, Anna R., 454. 
 Bushido, 102. 
 Butler, Joseph, 188. 
 Byron, 372. 
 
 W., 316, 32D, 456, 458. 
 Christian Science, 297, 453. 
 Churinga, 12. 
 
 Circumcision, 10, 132, 144, 148, 156. 
 Civa, see Shiva. 
 Clemen, C., 171. 
 Co-conscious, the, 217, 218, 246. 
 Codrington, R. H., 25, 26, 30. 
 Coe, G. A., 43, 57, 237, 247, 267, 294, 
 
 444. 
 
 Coleridge, 193. 
 Communion, the Holy, see Lord's 
 
 Supper, the. 
 
 Comte, A., 435, 453, 457. 
 Confirmation, 146, 161. 
 Congregationalism, 183, 190. 
 Conservation of values, 41-44, 151, 
 
 286; see Values. 
 Constantine the Great, 158. 
 Consu'bstantiation, 177. 
 Conversion, 86, 142, 156, 167, 190, 
 
 241-250. 
 
 Cooley, C. H., 284. 
 Copernican astronomy, 185, 186. 
 Cotton, John, 177. 
 Councils, 158. 
 Creeds, 163-165. 
 Creighton, J. E., vi, 458. 
 Criticism, the higher, 87, 88, 136, 
 
 151-154, 160, 195. 
 Cumont, F., 130. 
 Custom, 14, 29, 66. 
 Cutten, G. B., 255, 256, 281, 295, 452. 
 Cybele, 123, 124. 
 
 DAHLKE, 
 Damnation, 439. 
 Daniel, book of, 145. 
 Dante, 170, 371. 
 Daramulun, 15. 
 Darwin, Charles, 321, 366. 
 Darwinism, 321-325. 
 Davenport, F. M., 452. 
 David, 132, 133, 137. 
 Dawson, G. E., 235. 
 Deacons, 158. 
 Decalogue, the, 142. 
 
 PAUL, 107, 445, 446. 
 
 De Coulanges, F., 130, 446, 453. 
 
 Deists, the, 188. 
 
 Deities, evolution of, 59-64. See 
 
 Gods. 
 
 Delacroix, H., 304. 
 Democritus, 115, 118. 
 Dennett, R. E., 40. 
 Descartes, R., 168, 186, 456. 
 Determinism, 397, 400-402, 405-407, 
 
 461. 
 Deussen, Paul, 78, 84. 
 
466 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Deuteronomic code, 14 -P. 
 
 De Vries, H., 324. 
 
 Dewey, John, 17, 130, 149, 445. 
 
 Dhamma, 85, 88-95. 
 
 Dharmakaya, 101. 
 
 Dickinson," G. Lowes, 130, 426, 441. 
 
 Dio Chrysostom, 113. 
 
 Dionysiac cult, 119, 120. 
 
 Dionysus, 119. 
 
 Dipolia, the. 111. 
 
 Disciples, 191. 
 
 Dispersion, Jewish, 134. 
 
 Divination, 99. 
 
 EASTMAN, 
 
 Eckhart, 170. 
 
 Ecstacy, 295-298. 
 
 Eddy, "Mrs. M. B., 297. 
 
 Einstein, 455. 
 
 Elisabeth, Queen, 182, 183, 204. 
 
 Ellis, A. B., 40. 
 
 Emerson, R. W., 194, 196, 373. 
 
 Emmanuel movement, 285, 453. 
 
 Emotion, 220-222, 225, 451. 
 
 Emperor worship, 122. 
 
 England, Church of, 182, 183, 187. 
 
 Enlightenment, the, 185-189. 
 
 Enoch, book of, 145. 
 
 Enthusiasm, 189. 
 
 Ephods, 132. 
 
 Epicureans, the, 118. 
 
 Episcopal Church, Protestant, 183. 
 
 Doctrines. 3, 6, 88-95. 117, 164-166, 
 
 169; see Dogmas. 
 Dogmas, 4, (5/43, 174. 175, 17 j. 
 Dominic, St., 169. 
 Dowd, J.. 40. 
 Dousall, Lily, 463. 
 Drake, Dura'nt, 213, 314, 390. 
 Dreams, 7, 50. 
 Drews, Arthur, 447. 
 Driesch, Hans, 3-'5. 
 Durkheim, ., 14, 17, 68, 442. 
 Dyaks, the, 62. 
 Dysteleology, Chap. XVIII, sec. 6. 
 
 C. A., 67. 
 
 Episkopoi, 158, 159. 
 
 Erinyes, 110. 
 
 Ethical Culture, 457. 
 
 Ethical inwardness, 199, 200. 
 
 Ethics, 116, 128. 
 
 Eucharist, see Lord's Supper. 
 
 Euripides, 109, 114. 
 
 Evangelicalism, 190. 
 
 EvanseHcal movement, the, 189-191. 
 
 Everett, W. G., 411, 461. 
 
 Evil, problem of, Chap. XX, 119. 
 
 Evolution, 312-316, 321-328, 334-336. 
 
 Exile, the Jewish, 134. 
 
 Extreme Unction, 162. 
 
 Ezekiel, 140, 142, 143, 144. 
 
 Ezra, 134, 142, 143. 
 
 FAIRBANKS, A., 130. 
 
 Faith, 368. 
 
 Farnell, L. It, 21, 61, 68, 110, 130, 
 
 445. 
 
 Farquhar, J. N. 84. 
 Fatalism, 461. 
 Fathers, ancient, 164. 
 Fechner, G. T., 422, 441. 
 Federation of Churches, 908. 
 Ferrerro, G., 130. 
 Fetichism, 31, 34, 35, 63, 132. 
 Fichte. J. G.. 194, 432. 
 Finney, C. G., 244. 
 Fiske," John, 235, 316, 363, 399, 459. 
 Fite, Warner, vi, 443. 
 
 Flournoy, Ah., 369, 379, 460. 
 Fogazzaro, A., 301. 
 Fosdick, H. E., 284. 
 Foster, G. B., 213, 458. 
 Fourth Gospel, see John, St, (Gos- 
 pel). 
 
 Fowler, W. W., 130. 
 Fox. George, 185, 292, 302. 
 Francis of Assissi, St., 169, 298, 302. 
 Frazer, J. G., 17, 21, 31, 54. 
 Freedom of the will, Chap. XXI. 
 Friedlander, M., 150. 
 Friends, 185. See Quakers. 
 Function of religion; see Religion. 
 
 GALILEO, 186. 
 
 Gautama Siddartha, see Buddha. 
 Geiger, J. R., 458. 
 Genesis, book of, 137. 
 Genius, 110. 
 
 Ghosts, 15, 25, 27, 33, 35, 36, 49, 61, 
 63, 110, 112. 
 
 Gibbon, Edward, 188. 
 Gibbons, Cardinal, 197. 443. 
 Gillen, F. J., see Spencer, B. 
 Glossolalia, 298; see Speaking with 
 
 tongues. 
 Glover, T. R., 171. 
 
INDEX 
 
 467 
 
 God, 45, 6-1, 66, 147. 
 
 and the Absolute, 353-355, 393, 
 
 405-407, 435-437. 
 anthropomorphic, 339, 340. 
 in early religion, 30. 
 evidence for and against, Chap. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 and experience, 343,344. 
 and evil, Chap. XX. 
 external, 255, 280, 281, 375-380. 
 and freedom, Chap. XXI. 
 immanent, 256, 282-285, 382-390. 
 and immortality, Chap. XXII. 
 
 God (Coned.) 
 
 in mysticism, 304. 
 
 in prayer, 277-281. 
 
 in religious awakenings, 255, 255. 
 
 symbolical, 338, 339. 
 
 and teleology, 341-343. 
 Gods, evolution of, 30, 44, 45, 59-64. 
 Gomperz, Th., 130. 
 Gospels, the, 152, 160, 166, 290, 291. 
 Greece, 5, Chap. IX. 
 Gregory the Great, St., 158, 167. 
 Growth, continuous religious, 240, 
 
 241, 246-249. 
 
 HABITS, 220-222. 
 
 Hadfield, J. A., 419. 
 
 Hadrian, 135. 
 
 Haggai, 143. 
 
 Haldane, J. S., 317, 321, 456. 
 
 Hale, E. E., 240, 241. 
 
 Hall, G. Stanley, 256, 453. 
 
 Harnack, A., 171. 
 
 Harrison, Jane E., 65, 130. 
 
 Harvey, William, 186. 
 
 Healing, Divine, 270. 
 
 Heart, the Sacred, 303. 
 
 Heaven, 186, 440. 
 
 Hebrews, 5, 24, Chap. X. See Ju- 
 daism. 
 
 Hebrews, Epistle to the, 415. 
 
 Hegel, G. W. F., 194, 352. 
 
 Hell, 186, 440. 
 
 Helwys, Thomas, 184. 
 
 Henderson, L. J., 312, 313, 455. 
 
 Henry VIII, 182. 
 
 Hera, 113. 
 
 Heraclitus, 115. 
 
 Heroes, 111. 
 
 Hesiod, 137. 
 
 Hestia, 24, 109, 111. 
 
 Hewitt, J. N. B., 30. 
 
 Hezekiah, 139. 
 
 Hibben, J. G., 198. 
 
 Higher criticism, see Criticism, 
 higher. 
 
 Hinayana, 97, 98, 100. 
 Hinduism, modern, 80-84, 96. 
 Hindu Kush, women of the, 52. 
 Hobbes, Thomas, 308. 
 Hobhouse, L. T., vii, 84, 107, 1?P. 
 
 150, 213, 334, 379, 380, 449, 45o, 
 
 456, 460. 
 
 Hoernld, R. F. A., 359, 458. 
 Holbach, Baron, 361. 
 Holiness Code, the, 142. 
 Homer, 113, 185. 
 Homeric poems, 112, 113. 
 Hopkins, E. W., 30, 84, 107, 12fl. 
 
 149, 171, 197. 
 Horace, 118. 
 Hose, Charles, 40, 443. 
 Hosea, 138, 139. 
 Howard, G. E., 213. 
 Howison, G. H., 337. 
 Howitt, A. W., 9, 17. 
 Hugel, F. von, 304. 
 Huguenots, the, 179. 
 Hume, David, 91, 188. 
 Humanitarianism, 201. 
 Husband, R. W., 447, 448. 
 Husik, I., 150, 446. 
 Huss, John, 175. 
 Huxley, T. H., 326, 456, 457. 
 
 IDEALISM, 350-355. 
 
 Ideo-motor action, 252, 452. 
 Ignatius, St., 158, 163. 
 Iliad, the, 112, 137. 
 Imitation, 237-229. 
 Immaculate Conception, the, 174. 
 Immortality, Chap. XXII; 75, 120, 
 124, 157," 346-349. 
 
 Incarnation, the, 164. 
 Indeterminism. 397-405. 
 India, Chap. VII; 85-98. 
 Indians, North American, 67. 
 Individual, the, 6, 41, 89, 176, 177, 
 
 180. 
 Infidelity, 191. 
 
468 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Initiation ceremonies, 10-14, 17, 29, Isaac, 65. 
 
 120. 
 
 Inspiration, 136, 141, 298, 299. 
 
 Instincts, 218-220. 
 
 Intichiuma ceremonies, 12, 13, 14, 17. 
 
 Intolerance, 204, 205; see Tolera- 
 tion. 
 
 Isabella, Queen, 172. 
 Isaiah, 138, 139, 140, 144. 
 Isis, 123, 124. 
 Isthar, 55. 
 
 JACOB, 65. 
 
 Jael, 137. 
 
 James, St., ("the son of Zebedee") 
 
 153. 
 James, St., ("the Lord's brother") 
 
 158. 
 
 James I., 183. 
 James, William, 243, 245, 254, 255, 
 
 256, 265, 280, 355-357, 364, 376- 
 
 379, 397, 399, 402-404, 417, 418, 
 
 429, 430, 461, 462, 463. 
 Japan, 88, 102-104. 
 Jehovah, 13. See Yahweh. 
 Jennings, H. S., 319. 
 Jeremiah, 140, 143, 144. 
 Jerome, St., 164, 176, 203. 
 Jesuits, 172. 
 Jesus Christ, 2, 13, 66, 79, 85, 88, 96, 
 
 101, 105, 109, 135, 151-154, 199, 
 
 200, 209, 210, 274, 375, 447, 448, 
 
 450, 453. 
 
 Jevons, F. B., 21. 
 Jodo, 102. 
 
 KALI, 
 
 Kallen, H. M., 458. 
 Kant, I., 186, 193, 332, 336, 347, 
 
 351, 361, 457. 
 
 Karma, law of, 81, 90J93, 99, 100. 
 Kashmir, 97. 
 Kautsch, Emil, 150. 
 Kempis, a, see Thomas a Kempis. 
 Kennedy, H. A., 171. 
 Keres, 112. 
 Khandas, 89. 
 
 John, the Apostle, St., 153. 
 
 (Fourth Gospel) 160, 290, 291. 
 
 (Epistles) 290. 
 
 (Revelation) 146, 438, 448. See 
 
 Apocalyptic literature. 
 John the Baptist, St., 152. 
 John of the Cross, St., 174, 292, 302. 
 John of Ruysbroeck, 170. 
 Joly, H., 304. 
 Jonah, book of, 144. 
 Jones, R. M., 290, 300. 
 Jones, W., 30. 
 Joseph, M., 150. 
 Josiah, 134. 
 Judas Iscariot, 154. 
 Judd, C. H., 456. 
 Jude, Epistle of, 204, 448. 
 Judges, book of, 133. 
 Judaism, 4, 55, 66, 83, 127-129, 
 
 Chap. X. 
 
 Julian of Norwich, St., 292, 296. 
 Julius Caesar, 118. 
 Jupiter, 122. 
 
 Justice, 116, 138, 139, 147, 201, 202. 
 Justification, 178. 
 
 81, 82. 
 
 King, H. C., 212. 
 
 King, Irving, vii, 23, 68, 256, 444. 
 Kingsley, Charles, 196. 
 Kingsley, Mary H., 40. 
 Knights of Columbus, 175. 
 Knox, John, 184. 
 Kohler, K., 150, 390, 446. 
 Korea, 98. 
 Krishna, 81, 82, 83. 
 Kwannon, 103. 
 
 LAMA, GRAND, 101. 
 
 Lamaism, 98, 101. 
 
 Lamarck, 324. 
 
 Lang, A., 21, 30. 
 
 La Place, 307, 311. 
 
 Lares, 110. 
 
 Law, in religion, 43, 48, 131, 134. 
 
 Buddhist, see Dhamma. 
 
 Jewish, 131, 134, 141-143, 146, 148, 
 152. 
 
 Lea, H. C., 450. 
 
 Lecky, W. E. H., 213. 
 
 Leibniz, 187. 
 
 Leonard, A. G., 40. 
 
 Leuba, J. H., vii, 44, 57, 68, 278, 
 
 423, 424, 443, 445. 
 Leucippus, 115. 
 Levine, E., 149. 
 Levitical code, 142. 
 
INDEX 
 
 469 
 
 Le"vy-Bruhl, L., 442. 
 
 Liberty, 118. 
 
 Lincoln, Abraham, 196, 302, 346. 
 
 Lindsey, Theophilus, 195. 
 
 Locke, John, 186, 187, 181. 
 
 Loeb, J., 319, 320. 
 
 Lodge, Sir Oliver, 420, 462. 
 
 Logos, 101, 115, 118. 
 
 Loisy, A., 291. 
 
 Longfellow, H. W., 196, 248. 
 
 Lord's Supper, 128, 160, 161, 177. 
 
 Louis of Gonzaga, St., 303. 
 
 Love, 95, 147. 
 
 Lovejoy, A. O., 443. 
 
 Loyola, St. Ignatius, 172, 292-294, 
 
 302. 
 
 Luke, Gospel of, 160. 
 Luther, Martin, 175. 
 Lutheranism, 102, 177, 178, 182. 
 Lyman, E. W., 369. 
 
 MACCABEES, 
 McComb, S., 453. 
 McDougall, William, vi, 40, 223, 233, 
 
 328, 335, 397, 419, 420, 451, 457. 
 McGiffert, A. C., 171, 19'7. 
 McGilvary, E. B., vii. 
 Macintosh, D. C., 356. 
 Magic, 20-23, 37, 51-54, 64, 65, 67. 
 Magoutier, Marie, 297. 
 Mahayana, 97, 98, 100, 101. 
 Maimonides, 132. 
 Malachi, 143. 
 Malinowski, B., 16, 442. 
 Mana, 25-30, 35, 37, 44, 50, 58-63, 
 
 69, 73, 77, 136. 
 Manitou, 27, 44, 68. 
 Manu, code of, 79, 80, 84. 
 Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, 261. 
 Marett, R. R., vii, 21, 28, 443. 
 Mark, Gospel of, 160. 
 Marriage, 162, 201. 
 Martineau, J., 404. 
 Mary, the Blessed Virgin, 163, 174. 
 Mary, Queen of Scots, 184. 
 Mathews, S., 171, 213. 
 Maya, 74. 
 
 Mead, G. H., vi, 456. 
 Mechanism, Chap. XVIII. 
 Mecklin, J. M., 179, 449. 
 Mediums, 22, 34, 421. 
 Melanesian religion, 24-30. 
 Mercier, Cardinal, 175, 197. 
 Messiah, the 145, 146, 152-155, 15T. 
 Messianic hope, 143-146, 148. 
 Metaphysics, 305. 
 Methodists, 190. 
 
 THE, 135. 
 Methodology, vii. 
 Micah, 138, 139, 144. 
 Mill, J. S., 377, 459. 
 Miller, Lucius Hopkins, 171. 
 Milton, John, 185, 371, 393. 
 Mind, a Universal, 341, 342, 347, 348. 
 Miracles, 86, 87, 106, 153, 161, 177, 
 
 185, 187, 188, 189, 268. 
 Mishna, 135. 
 Missions, 97-99, 103, 144', 145, 155, 
 
 156, 168, 173, 211, 212. 
 Mitchell, H. G., 150. 
 Mithra, 123-126. 
 Modernism, 175. 
 Mohammedanism, 132, 149. 
 Moloch, 55. 
 
 Monasticism, 86, 95, 96, 169, 173. 
 Monier- Williams, M., 84. 
 Monotheism, 139, 141. 
 Monteflore, C. G., 150. 
 Moore, A. W., vi. 
 Moore, Benjamin, 455. 
 Moore, C. H., 130. 
 Moore, G. F., 84, 107, 129, 150, 171, 
 
 197. 
 
 Morality and religion, 54, 55. 
 Moravians, 190, 191. 
 Morton, Joseph, 184. 
 Moses, 132, 137. 
 
 Munsterberg, H., 328, 422, 423, 432. 
 Murray, Gilbert, 113, ISO. 
 Mysteries, 119, 120, 123-126. 
 Mysticism, Chap. XVII. 
 Myths, 6, 20, 43, 47, 48, 70, 112, 137, 
 
 138. 
 
 NEBUCHADNEZZAR, 134. 
 
 Neo-platonists, 123. Nietzsche, F., 425. 
 
 Neo-Scholasticism, 170, 175. Niger, tribes, 49. 
 
 Newman, J. H., 165, 192, 197. Nirvana, 89, 90, 91, 93, 102. 
 
 Newton, Isaac, 186. Nitobe, I. O., 107. 
 
 Nibbana, see Nirvana. Noah, 65, 137. 
 
470 
 
 INDEX 
 
 ODYSSEY, THE, 112, 113, 137. 
 Olympians, 112-114. Osiris, 123. 
 
 Orders, Holy, 162. Oudah, 27. 
 
 Orenda, 27. Overton, J. H., 449. 
 
 Orpheus, 119, 120. 
 
 PALEY, WM., 318. 
 
 Panpsychism, 422. 
 
 Pantheism, 74, 115, 373-376, 459. 
 
 Parallelism, psycho-physical, 421, 
 
 422. ' 
 
 Passover, the, 132, 138, 142, 146. 
 Pater, W., 130. 
 
 Pathological tendencies, 300-303. 
 Patten, William, 337, 457. 
 Paul, St., 105, 144, 148, 156-161, 289, 
 
 290, 448, 450. 
 
 Paulsen, F., 129, 213, 336, 422. 
 Penance, 162. 
 Penates, 110. 
 Penn, William, 185. 
 Pentateuch, 134, 142. 
 Pentecost, 154. 
 Perry, R. B., 360. 
 Persians, the, 134. 
 Pessimism, 92-95. 
 Peter, St., 153, 154, 158, 159. 
 Pharisees, 152, 153. 
 Phidias, 113. 
 Philosophy, 47. 
 
 Philosophy of religion, vii, viii, 4. 
 Pietists, the, 191. 
 Pilate, Pontius, 135, 154, 447. 
 Pilgrim Fathers, 183. 
 Pindar, 114. 
 Pitakas, the, 86, 87. 
 Pius IX, 174. 
 Pius X, 175. 
 Plato, 116, 262, 438, 440, 463. 
 
 Play and religion, 57, 229, 230. 
 
 Plotinus, 431. 
 
 Pluralism, 402, 404. 
 
 Pompey, 135. 
 
 Pope, Alexander, 375, 457. 
 
 Popes, the, 158, 168, 170, 171, 174. 
 
 Positivism, 453, 457. 
 
 Pragmatism, 355-358. 
 
 Pratt, J. B., 61, 84, 149, 245, 256, 
 
 287, 296, 443, 452, 453, 454. 
 Prayer, 9, 19-21, 45, 66-68, 101, 140, 
 
 163, 174, Chap. XVI. 
 Predestination, 178, 179. 
 Presbuteroi, 158. 
 Presbyterianism, 183, 184, 190. 
 Priestley, Joseph, 195. 
 Prince, Morton, 217, 233, 433, 451. 
 Pringle-Pattison, A. S., 337, 379, 
 
 458. 
 
 Prophets, the, 133, 134, 136-141. 
 Protestantism, see Christianity. 
 Providence, 119. 
 Psalms, the, 140, 143. 
 Psuedo-conversions, 251-253. 
 Psychical Research, 420. 
 Psychology, Chap. XIV. 
 Psychology of religion, vii, 3, Part 
 
 Ptolemies, the, 134. 
 Purgatory, 168, 440. 
 Puritans, 183, 184. 
 
 QUAKERS, 177, 185. 
 
 RANSOM, 
 
 Rashdall, H., 210, 380, 381, 460, 461. 
 Rationalism, 185-189, 191-195. 
 Rauschenbusch, W., 213. 
 Realism, the new, 358-360. 
 Redemption, 6, 20. 
 Reformation, the, 172, 173, 175-185. 
 Refuge formula, Buddhist, 13, 91. 
 Rehoboam, 133. 
 Relics, 163. 
 Religion, comparative, 47, 48. 
 
 defined, 5, Chap. V. 
 Religions, classified, 5, 6, 47, 48, 69'. 
 
 functions of, 165, 205. 
 
 primitive, Chapters II-V. 
 
 technique of, 48. 
 
 S. W., 284. 
 
 Resurrection, 120, 123, 154. 
 Revelation, book of, see under John. 
 Revelations, 7, 28, see Inspiration. 
 Revivals, 190, 251-253. 
 Rhys Davids, T. W., 90. 
 Right to believe, 364-368, 459. 
 Riley, I. Woodbridge, 198. 
 Rites, 15. 
 
 Ritual, 3, 6, 24, 43, 128, 142, 146. 
 Rivers, W. H. R., 19-24, 31. 
 Robertson, F. W., 196. 
 Rogers, A. K., 369, 390 
 Roman Catholicism, see Christianity. 
 Rome, Chap. IX. 
 Roscoe, John, 31, 40. 
 
INDEX 
 
 471 
 
 Russell, B., 359, 457, 458. 
 Ruth, book of, 144. 
 
 Rousseau, J. J., 191, 236. 
 Royce, J., 31(5, 376, 382-387, 405- 
 407, 435-437, 462. 
 
 SACRAMENTALS, 162, 163, 177. 
 Sacraments, 120, 124, 128, 160-163, Smith, H. P., 150, 447. 
 
 178, 177, 185. 
 Sacrifice, 6, 9, 13, 21, 22, 36, 45, 64- 
 
 66, 71-73. 
 Saints, the, 89, 100, 112, 147, 163, 
 
 301, 302. 
 
 Salter, W. M., 457. 
 Salvation, 439, 440. 
 Samkhya philosophy, 79, 86. 
 Sanctification, 251. 
 Sangha, 85, 96, 97. 
 Santayana, G. S., 457. 
 Saul of Tarsus, 155. See Paul, St. 
 Schechter, S., 150. 
 Schiller, F. C. S., vii, 381, 398, 403, 
 
 411, 418, 460, 462. 
 Schleiermacher, F. D. E., 45, 194. 
 Schleiter, F., 30, 57. 
 Schmidt, N., 171. 
 Schurman, J. G., 459. 
 Schweitzer, A., 171. 
 Science, 46, 47, 186, 281-283, 308, 
 
 309-326, 339, 340, 417-424. 
 Seashore, C. E., 57, 445. 
 Seleucid dynasty, 134. 
 Self, the, 89, 230-233. 
 Sellars, R. W., 359, 457. 
 Sennacherib, 139, 140. 
 Sentiment, the religious, 45, 222, 223, 
 
 Chap. XV. 
 Sentiments, 220-223. 
 Separatists, the, 183. 
 Sermon, the, 128; cf. 123. 
 Sex, 200, 201. 
 Shaftesbury, 187. 
 Shand, A. F., 233, 242, 243. 
 Sheldon, W. H., vii. 
 Shelley, P. B., 372. 
 Shema, the, 142. 
 Shin, 102-104. 
 Shiva, 81. 
 
 Siddartha, see Buddha. 
 Simon Maccabaeus, 135. 
 Sin, original, 178. 
 
 sense of, 242-244. 
 
 Smith, W. B., 447. 
 
 Smith, W. Roberston, 68, 150. 
 
 Smyth, John, 184. 
 
 Sneath, E. H., 369. 
 
 Socinians, 181. 
 
 Socrates, 65, 88, 116, 119. 
 
 Sollas, W. J., 17, 442. 
 
 Solomon, 133. 
 
 Sophists, the, 115. 
 
 Sophocles, 114. 
 
 Sorcery, 22, 23, 25. 
 
 Sorley, W. R., 316, 461. 
 
 Soul, the, 91, 420, 429, 430, 438, 439. 
 
 Sozzini, F., 181. 
 
 Spaulding, E. G., 359, 360, 458. 
 
 Spencer, B., 9, 12, 17, 29, 61. 
 
 Spencer, H., 316, 362, 363. 
 
 Spinoza, B., 187, 188, 431, 432, 446. 
 
 Spiritism, 420, 421, 462, 463. 
 
 Spirits, 15, 33, 48, 49, 61, 110. 
 
 Spiritual exercises, 75, 79, 173, 292- 
 295. 
 
 Spiritualism, see Idealism, Spirit- 
 ism. 
 
 Starbuck, E. D., 235, 236, 242, 245, 
 254. 
 
 Stephen, St., 155. 
 
 Stigmatisation, 298; cf. 290. 
 
 Stoics, the, 118, 127. 
 
 Streeter, B. H., 196, 441. 
 
 Strehlow, 9. 
 
 Strong, Anna Louise, 260, 267, 284, 
 452. 
 
 Subconscious, the, 6, 7, 28, 30, 77, 
 136, 215-218, 220, 245, 246, 265- 
 267, 281. 
 
 Subhadra Bhikshu, 107. 
 
 Suggestion, 224. 
 
 Suso, 170. 
 
 Symbolism, 338, 339'. 
 
 Sympathy, 226, 227. 
 
 Synagogue, the, 134, 141-143, 146. 
 
 Talmud, 135. 
 
 Tanner, Amy Eliza, 256, 279, 285, 
 
 463. 
 
 Tathagata, the, 85. 
 Tauler, J., 170, 292. 
 Tegner, 248. 
 
 TABOO, 21, 29, 59. 
 
 Teleology, Chap. XVIII, 341-343. 
 Telepathy, 420, 462, 463. 
 Tennyson, Alfred, 193, 196, 311, 
 
 355, 406. 
 
 Teresa, St., 56, 174, 268, 292, 302. 
 Theism, 371-376, 459. 
 
472 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Theology, 4, 169. 
 
 Thibet, 98, 101. 
 
 Thilly, Frank, vii, 198, 460, 461. 
 
 Thomas Aquinas, St., 169. 
 
 Thomas & Kempis, 170, 292. 
 
 Thomson, J. A., 819. 
 
 Tiberius Caesar, 122. 
 
 Todas, 18-24, 38. 
 
 Toleration, 78, 106, 177, 185, 187, 
 
 189, 197, 205. 
 Tongues, speaking with, 154, 296; 
 
 see Glossolalia. . 
 Torah, 134, 142. 
 Totems, 11, 12, 14, 29, 33, 51, 52, 
 
 Toy, C. H., 17, 442. 
 
 Tradition, 14. 
 
 Trajan, 123. 
 
 Transmigration, 74, 75. 
 
 Transsubstantiation, 177, 178. 
 
 Trent, Council of, 173. 
 
 Trinity, the, 147, 164, 181. 
 
 Truth, 1, 2, 4, 9, 30. 
 
 Tshi, the, 48. 
 
 Tucker, W. J., 196. 
 
 Tufts, James H., -vi, 130, 149, 213, 
 
 369, 449. 
 
 Tychism, 402, 403. 
 Tylor, E. B., 48, 57. 
 
 60, 61. 
 
 UNDERBILL, EVELYN, 287, 290, 304, 453, 454. 
 Unitarianism, 181, 195, 196. Urban, W. M., viL 
 
 Upanishads, the, 73, 78. 
 
 VALUES, conservation of socially recognized, 41-44. 
 
 Values, (either sought or actually 
 conserved by various religions). 
 Australians, 16. 
 Baganda, 32, 33, 39. 
 Buddhism, 98-100, 105-107. 
 Christianity, Chap. XIII. 
 Ethical religions, 5, 6, 55. 
 Greece and Rome, 108-113, 116- 
 
 128. 
 
 India, 71, 72, 75, 78, 80, 82. 
 Judaism, 146-148. 
 
 Values (Cont'd.) 
 
 Natural religions, 5, 54. 
 
 Todas, 23, 24. 
 Vedanta, the, 73. 
 Vedas, the, 69-73. 
 Vespasian, 123. 
 Vesta, 110. 
 Virgil, 185. 
 A^ishnu, 81-83. 
 Visions, 7, 296, 297. 
 Votaw, C. W., 171. 
 
 WAKONDA, 27. 
 
 Walker, Williston, 171, 197. 
 Wallas, Graham, vii, 233, 451. 
 Ward, James, 337, 396, 404, 405. 
 Washington, 345. 
 Watson, A. C., 56, 57, 443, 444. 
 Watson, J. B., 456. 
 Weismann, 324, 413. 
 Wernle, P. 171. 
 Wesley, Charles, 190. 
 Wesley, John, 190. 
 Westermarck, E., 62, 213, 335. 
 ,White, Andrew D., 204. 
 
 Whitfield, George, 190. 
 
 Will to believe, see Right to believe. 
 
 Wilm, E. C., 336, 369, 390. 
 
 Windelband, W., 130. 
 
 Winthrop, John, 183. 
 
 Woman, 9'6, 126, 127, 203. 
 
 Worcester, Ellwood, 285. 
 
 Wordsworth, 193, 261, 463. 
 
 Wright, W. K., vii, 443, 451, 452, 
 
 463. 
 
 Wundt, W., 17, 68, 442. 
 Wyclif, John, 175. 
 
 XENOPHANES, 115. 
 Ximines, 172. 
 
 YAHWEH, 5, 55, 65, 131-149, 152. 
 Yoga, 79, 83, 86. 
 
 ZEALOTS, THE, 135. 
 
 Zechariah, 143. Zeus, 109, 111, 113, 122. 
 
 Zeller, E., 130. Zwingli, 178. 
 
 Zerubbabel, 134, 143. 
 
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