UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. Class STUDIES IN THE PHILOSOPHY OF EELIGION STUDIES IN THE PHILOSOPHY OF EELIGION BY GEORGE GALLOWAY, B.D. ^ \ FORMERLY EXAMINER IN PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF ST ANDREWS OF THE UNIVERSITY Of WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS EDINBURGH AND LONDON MCMIV SENERAL PEEFACE. THIS volume does not claim to be more than its title indicates. I have not attempted, more Ger- manico, to deal with the subject systematically. On the one hand, I doubt my own competency for the task ; and, on the other hand, it seems to me that in the present condition of speculative thought such an attempt is hardly desirable. But the reader will find that the following essays, so far as they go, form a fairly connected treatment. All I can hope is that at points I have dealt sug- gestively with a deeply important subject. The fourth essay is the statement of a philos- ophical position, which I try to develop and apply to religion in the essay which follows. It is reprinted by kind permission from * Mind/ My cordial thanks are due to my friend, the Eev. D. Frew, B.D., for valuable aid in revising the proof- sheets. G. G. CASTLE-DOUGLAS, N.B. CONTENTS. ESSAY I. HEGEL AND THE LATER TENDENCY OP KELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY 3 ESSAY II. THE NATURAL SCIENCES, ETHICS, AND RELIGION . . 41 ESSAY III. RELIGIOUS DEVELOPMENT : ITS HISTORY AND INTERPRETATION 97 ESSAY IV. ON THE DISTINCTION OF INNER AND OUTER EXPERIENCE . 169 ESSAY V. THE ULTIMATE BASIS AND MEANING OP RELIGION . . 209 ESSAY VI. PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY: THE RITSCHLIAN STANDPOINT 291 INDEX 325 ESSAY I. HEGEL AND THE LATER TENDENCY OF RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY ESSAY I. IT may be well to state at the outset the object we set ourselves in the present paper. We have no idea of attempting to give a history of the Phil- osophy of Keligion from Hegel to the present day. That has been already done, and by more competent hands. Our aim here is a more restricted one. We wish to compare and contrast the method and spirit of later religious philosophy with the method and spirit in which the subject was treated by Hegel. To go into the details of the treatment, however, lies beyond the scope of the essay. We shall deal more particularly with the attitude of reason to religion, trying to show the difference which becomes more and more apparent between the view of later thinkers on this point and the view of Hegel. The result, we think, will be to show that there has been a very marked process of change. This change corresponds to a general change in the philosophic standpoint. The consequence has been new ways 4 Hegel and the later Tendency of regarding religion and its problems. We shall see that the earlier tendency was to exalt reason, while the later makes much of feeling : the earlier thinkers sought to offer something like a complete explanation, while the later are burdened with a sense of the limitations of knowledge and the defects of human insight. Or, what is the same thing from a slightly different point of view, we begin with a strong constructive movement which gradually exhausts itself, to be followed by a sceptical and critical tendency. We propose, then, to begin our review with Hegel's ' Lectures on the Philosophy of Religion.' * Hegel's work is the first profound, comprehensive, and systematic treatment of the whole subject. It marks the rise of a distinct and influential tendency. Moreover, Hegel was the first who sharply defined the problem of Religionsphilosophie, and gave the subject a determinate place in the body of the philosophical sciences. From that time the general scope of the science and the broad outlines of its 1 Hegel's ' Vorlesungen iiber die Philosophic der Keligion ' were published in 1832, after his death. A 2nd edition, forming vols. xi. and xii. of his collected works, was issued in 1840. I have given the titles of the works referred to in the course of the paper, but have not thought it necessary to burden the article with continuous references to the pages of the books themselves. I have taken pains to present accurately the views of the different writers. But if any one desires to verify my statements, he will, I think, have little difficulty in doing so. of Religious Philosophy. 5 treatment have been more or less fixed. Earlier discussions of religious problems present us with the religious aspect of philosophy rather than the Philosophy of Keligion in the modern sense. 1 Hegel was the strong son of an age when hopes in speculative effort ran high. As we all know, philos- ophy was for him denkende Anschauung der Welt, and he believed the universe must yield its secret at the pressure of thought. Logic lays bare the structure of the Absolute, and the philosopher traces its dialectic evolution in the spheres of nature and mind. In that evolution religion has its place, and its essence and meaning can be speculatively determined in the systematic whole of things. That place, we may remind our readers, is in the domain of mind which has become absolute spirit, and midway between Art and Speculative Philosophy. Religion manifests the Absolute in the form of representation (Vorstellung), while philos- ophy grasps it as the notion (Begriff). So religion shelters no mystery which thought cannot penetrate. Hegel's general method is now tolerably familiar to us in this country. First an idea, or concept, is analysed; then it is shown by its own immanent movement to specify or differentiate itself in the judgment ; and finally it issues in the conclusion, the concrete and individual whole. Applying this 1 As in the case, e.g., of Leibniz and Kant. 6 Hegel and the later Tendency method to the matter on hand, he analyses the general or abstract concept of religion, and then passes to the historic religions as specific forms of the religious idea, and finally treats Christianity as the absolute or consummated notion of religion. Without denying the high merits of Hegel's work, it is clear to us that it has also grave defects. In his reaction against Schleiermacher and the Romantic School, Hegel ignores the great import- ance of feeling in the religious consciousness. If the "feeling of dependence" were the essence of religion, then, he remarks scornfully, the dog would be the most religious of creatures. The animal, we are told, feels, but it is the characteristic of man to think. True, but man also feels, and he does not feel as the animal feels. It is safe to say that if man were a purely thinking being, he would not be the religious being that experience shows him to be. Occupying the standpoint of an all-embracing idealism, Hegel gives no adequate psychological analysis of the religious consciousness. He does not treat of faith in its specific character ; and though he indicates the dialectic movement by which feeling passes into representation, he fails to recognise how essential the interplay of sentiment, emotion, and idea is in the maturest spiritual experience. It would be unfair to criticise Hegel severely for his treatment of the historic religions : his materials of Religious Philosophy. 7 were necessarily scanty. Suffice it to note that the way in which he labels the particular religions is often fanciful ; as every religion implies a complex process of development, no single term can fairly describe its character. The logical nexus which he discovers between the different religions is largely imaginary. So, profound and suggestive though it was, the weaker elements in Hegel's interpretation of religion were bound ere long to be recognised. Especially was this the case when the Hegelian School in Germany broke up, and its general method and principles were weighed in the critical balance and found wanting. But there were interesting survivals of what we may term the gnostic attitude in the Philosophy of Keligion. Such a survival is the ' Christliche Dogmatik' of the Zurich theologian, A. E. Bieder- mann. 1 Yet already a change of method is seen here. Biedermann does not seek to construe religion by applying to it the ready key of the dialectic process. He tries rather to rise to the speculative import of religion by analysing the historic phenomenon. He accepts from Hegel the principle that the Philosophy of Religion must 1 The 1st edition of this work was published in 1869, and a 2nd edition, with a new epistemological introduction, in 1884. Under the same general category would fall, I believe, Lasson's 'Ueber Gegenstand und Behandlung der Eeligionsphilosophie.' But I have not examined the book. 8 Hegel and the later Tendency exhibit the notion of what is historically given in the form of representation, or figurative thought. The historic matter to which he turns is the dog- matic system of the Christian Church. And his aim is to show how the difficulties and contradic- tions which exist within it lead up to, and find their solution in, the concluding and speculative part of his book. A method like this is less likely to do violence to the facts. At the same time Biedermann's con- fidence in his ability to convey the whole truth in philosophic terminology is curious. When we read that the Absolute Being is "reines Insich und Durchsichselbst-sein und in sich Grundsein alles Seins ausser Sich," the doubt will suggest itself how far this formidable phraseology really takes us. The unsympathetic will recall the scoff of Goethe's Mephistopheles, " An Worte lasst sich trefflich glauben, Von einem Wort lasst sich kein Iota rauben." Yet despite the reproach of empty logomachy levelled at it by theologians, Biedermann's work has substantial merits. The modern student, however, will doubt what the Swiss theologian did not appear to doubt, that he had succeeded in present- ing in a final form the philosophic meaning of religion. of Religious Philosophy. 9 Another noteworthy example of the idealistic standpoint is the Philosophy of Eeligion of the late Principal Caird. 1 This well-known and sugges- tive book states the Hegelian position with great persuasiveness. Yet it is not exactly the Hegelian- ism of the older time. The formal dialectic recedes into the background, and it is recognised that the emotions have a place in the religious consciousness. But still it is thought which makes religion possible. And Dr Caird believes that reason can criticise religious experience, and resolve the contradictions of ordinary belief in the speculative interpreta- tion of religion. In that interpretation God is the Absolute Self- consciousness to which all finite con- sciousnesses are organically related. The work only professes to be an introduction to the Philosophy of Eeligion. Yet we are forced to ask ourselves if the speculative view here unfolded could justify itself by solving the time-worn problems which confront the theologian. Is there proper room for such a view of human personality as would make human responsibility real and sin possible? If nature has no reality apart from God, are its evils only good in the making? For a human consciousness which blends constantly and inevitably with the divine, is there full scope for faith and reverence ? Finally, in what sense is that Self ethical and 1 An Introduction to the Philosophy of Eeligion, 1880. i o Hegel and the later Tendency personal which is the unity of all thinkers and " all objects of all thought" ? One cannot but doubt if, within the general speculative view outlined in this volume, room is to be found for a satisfactory treat- ment of these problems. One also misses in this book the explicit recognition of the truth, that the religious idea of God involves ethical predicates which are not the product of pure thinking. The careful reader carries away the impression, after the perusal of the book, that the author's genuine spiritual feeling unconsciously led him to a more positive and theistic view than his speculative principles strictly warranted. The ' Philosophy of Eeligion ' of Otto Pfleiderer is a work of wide learning and penetrating insight which is tempered by sound judgment. 1 While sympathising with the idealism of an earlier day, Pfleiderer modifies it at essential points and rejects the claim to absolute knowledge. The central place of reason and its rights are fully recognised, but alongside of it are set the ideals of practical reason. The theoretical and the practical reason must have one source, but to grasp and formulate their unity is not an achievement of thought but its goal. The method by which Pfleiderer sets himself to work out 1 Keligionsphilosophie auf Geschichtlicher Grundlage. The 1st edition was published in 1878, the 3rd edition, largely recast, in 1896. of Religious Philosophy. 1 1 the problem of Religionsphilosopliie is, in his own words, " the genetic-speculative method." That is to say, the historic evolution of religious ideas is traced, and through the study of their development it is sought to determine their essence. History criticises itself, and its larger logic corrects subjective opinions and prejudices. This is, in fact, the Aris- totelian method by which the essential nature of an object is brought to light by tracing its evolu- tion. 1 Pfleiderer works on these lines with much success. The difficulty is that the wealth of historic detail is apt to overburden the religious philosopher. And where materials are so varied, and earlier and later elements come down to us so intermingled, it is hard to determine their relative importance and the order of development. On the one hand, there is the temptation to select the facts which suit a preconceived theory. And on the other hand, the very desire to do justice to all the facts may cause the treatment to become purely historic. In which case philosophic principles are brought in afterwards to explain the historic process rather than shown to issue from it. The epistemological theory which Pfleiderer adopts is transcendental realism. The conscious self builds 1 Cp., e.g., Politics, A. 1252, a. 24 : ei Srj TIS e d #ev, roiavrr] ovcra ev $ fj,r)$v (rv/A/JaAAcTai 6 Trparrwv r) 6 The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. 67 spiritual determinism, and it has commended itself to many philosophical thinkers. If choice is absolutely indifferent, it is hardly moral ; and in practical life we do not suppose S to be just as likely to choose A as B. Moral valuation goes on the assumption that acts are somehow the outcome of character expressed in desire. And experience of men serves to show that there is very little which is arbitrary in human conduct. Moreover, against those who maintain a real contingency of choice, it is contended that this means the intro- duction of a fictitious pure self which is without content ; and so the vital nerve is cut which binds the character to the act of the agent, and makes him responsible. Still, when all is said, spiritual determinism raises grave difficulties, although those who advocate it are not always willing to allow this. The difficulties come out in the facts of remorse and repentance. We are here confronted with the dilemma that, if the acts repented of are not connected with the character of the agent, they are not really his and he cannot truly regret them. On the other hand, there would be no cause for regret if the individual could not have acted other- wise. Eepentance, to the determinist, is an illusion engendered by a discord between a man's present emotional condition and his condition when he did the deed. The interpretation, it must be said, is 68 The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. not credible. A similar difficulty confronts the spiritual determinist in dealing with the fact of a moral reformation in the individual history. In his view the self-conscious principle in man has transformed the natural desires and dispositions into a moral character. Between the present and past of this character there is a necessary connex- ion, and each new act is an outcome of the past and becomes a condition of the future. How, then, does man draw from the past the will to reform himself in the present ? The late Prof. Green has suggested as an explanation that a man's past conduct may have been determined by "a concep- tion of personal good" which has failed to bring satisfaction, and his attitude may be one of " con- scious revulsion from it." 1 True ; but the self which thus reacts against the past is not the deter- minate outcome of the past. The present reaction of the self is not intelligible apart from the past. Yet the self which the past has failed to satisfy cannot fairly represent the whole character de- veloped in the past. Else why the revulsion ? We may find some help in this difficulty by con- sidering more closely the relation of the self to character. The self which stands for the person with his history, his interests, ideals, is an ideal construction, not a fact immediately given. Here 1 Prolegomena to Ethics, p. 115. The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. 69 the self includes the character it has developed in time. But behind the ideally constructed self there is the self which is the basis of memory, recognition, and continuity of interest. Ideal construction with- out an active centre which constructs and is referred to does not seem possible. On the other hand, the character which is related to and owned by the fundamental self is not a perfectly coherent and organic whole. It is formed gradually out of un- harmonised natural tendencies, dispositions, and desires, as the self works itself free from mere impulse and comes to fuller consciousness of itself. The inner life is, to use a figure, composed of different strata at different levels, and some of these may commonly fall within the focus of con- sciousness while others lie more usually in the subconscious region. The self in its development from the material to the spiritual has to construct from these a consistent whole of character. A fallacy seems to lurk in the ordinary assertion that action is necessarily determined by character, for, in point of fact, man in his temporal history has never unified his character so completely as to exclude the possibility of a real alternative in conduct. Every moral act is related to an aspect of a man's character, else we should not commend him or condemn him for it, and he himself would not be conscious of self - approval or repentance. 70 The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. But all acts are not equally characteristic. We re- mark, for instance, of an act which springs directly from the main current of an individual's interest and effort, that it was "So like him." Of another act we say that it was " So unlike him," implying that it proceeds from a more obscure and less active aspect of his inner life. The truth seems to be that the self as will which determines to action can take up into the content of its will different conceptions of the self as object. These conceptions may not harmonise, though all are potentially capable of more or less close relation to the self which wills, for they have had a place in the development of the inner life. And a true liberty to choose between them is not inconsistent with a constant relation of character and conduct, arid it gives a real meaning to facts like repentance and moral obligation. Freedom of moral choice has limits imposed on it by the inner life of the individual, for the moral act must always be related to that life. Before self-consciousness has developed the rude elements of character out of the natural desires, there is no responsible action. On the other hand, the charac- ter as it becomes more and more unified and con- solidated, as it is drawn into more close organic relation to the self which wills, so does it leave less scope for the alternative in action. As a man be- comes thoroughly bad, his power to choose the good The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. 7 1 diminishes : and the more disciplined we are in the life of virtue, the less does evil appeal to us. In general, the more fully and consistently we take up a conception of self into the principles of our will, the more we lessen the possibility of develop- ing an alternative conception. Hence the larger and ideal meaning which has been attached to freedom. In this sense freedom denotes the fullest and most harmonious development of human powers, a state in which goodness is the immanent law of life, and evil has ceased altogether to be a motive. This of course is an ideal which in temporal experi- ence is not attained; all that the individual can hope for is to make progress towards it. The im- portant point is that man's path to this higher freedom is by the real exercise of his choice, and the journey is significant and testing because of the alternatives which open out before the wayfarer. For the ideal freedom postulates a real freedom to realise it. We have so far discussed the problem of freedom from the individual point of view, but we are fully aware that the question has a social aspect. Behind the inner life of the individual, and fostering its growth, is the larger life of the society to which he belongs. The nature of the alternatives which are possible to him is conditioned by the stage of social progress and the character of his social environment. 72 The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. The virtue and vice of the savage are not those of the civilised man, and the points where moral choice was most urgently necessary were not the same in mediaeval as in modern times. Again, the full fruition of human capacities is not possible in isolation : man only finds scope and exercise for his powers in interaction with others. So we could not conceive that an individual should attain to perfect freedom apart from a perfected society. It is true, indeed, that some men have been remarkably in advance of their age and environment. Still there are boundaries which even genius cannot overpass. Shakespeare could not have appeared in the age of Dante, nor Isaiah among the Athenian contem- poraries of Socrates. The highest civic, moral, or artistic powers cannot come to full and harmonious utterance in a rude, lawless, or decadent society. For though these capacities be latent in a man, there is neither a sympathetic medium to elicit them nor a free field for their exercise. The inner development of the individual, therefore, is historic- ally and socially conditioned. And the advance to the higher freedom is a historic process, in which society and individuals act and react one on another. The development of this ideal must, then, be studied historically, and to this aspect of ethical develop- ment we now turn. Man is by nature a TroXmKoz/ tfiov as Aristotle The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. 73 said, and morality is social in its origin. Ethics coming from e#os and morals from mores, point to the ancestry of moral ideas in customs. The study of the subject from the evolutionary stand- point dispels the illusion that, from the first, morality was a separate province of life presided over by a special ' faculty.' If we go back to the tribe, and we cannot go further, primitive ethics are there represented simply by tribal customs. The norm of conduct is the traditional usage or unwritten law of the tribe, and conformity with this law is the rudimentary expression of what ought to be. Fear of punishment human or divine ensuing on breach of the custom, is the earliest phase of conscience. At this level of culture per- sonality is undeveloped, and the social whole is all-important. Spiritual life is hampered by material conditions, and there is no independent growth of the inner nature. Hence we find a lack of specific character in the products of the primitive mind. There is a certain monotony in early myth, custom, and religion, and the same circle of ideas recurs among many races. And the development of per- sonal character is restricted by the narrow range of possible motives. Man's gradual triumph over natural impediments, and his advance from savagery to civilisation, are primarily due to the pressure of spiritual life within him. In the course of develop- 74 The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. ment the inner life deepens and defines itself pari passu with the growth of social organisation. A cardinal point in that history, regarded objectively, is the transition from the tribe to the nation as social whole. To the outer expansion correspond an inner concentration and advance in self -con- sciousness which make possible the rdle of law- giver, prophet, and reformer. The inward disposi- tion now receives a value over against external acts. By - and - by legal enactments and ancient usages are supplemented by the thought of "un- written laws," of larger scope and more divine authority. So the human end is defined in terms of law, which is the * custom ; of the olden time idealised and made universal. To the Hebrew prophet this end was obedience to the law of the Covenant - God, written on " fleshly tables of the heart." To the Greek thinker it was participation in that immanent justice which is the "bond of perfectness" in society. The growing consciousness of the worth of the subjective side of morality paved the way for that distinction between ethics and politics which was made after Aristotle. It is a development of this tendency which, in modern times, has prompted the effort to determine morality by conscience and to- value conduct simply by motives. Conscience, said Bishop Butler, is " the rule of right within " ; the The Natural Sciences y Ethics, and Religion. 75 one unconditional moral good, said Kant, is " a good will." We sympathise with these views as a protest against an external utilitarianism, but the rigid exclusion of results from the valuation of conduct is not possible. The motive and the consequences of an act must both enter into a full appreciation of it. In practice we should dis- approve of actions done with the best intent, but the results of which the doer had ample oppor- tunity of seeing to be socially demoralising. And our disapproval of the acts would mean a disap- proval of the character from which they proceeded. The historic and evolutionary methods of the nine- teenth century have served to correct a one-sided stress on the subjective side of morality. The essential interdependence of society and individuals, revealed in their common growth, has been insisted on. The good for the individual is recognised to be a common good, and subjective approval must in the last resort be based on this good. From the school of scientific evolution we have the chief good described as " social health," or "general in- crease of life." These definitions at least imply that valuation must be in terms of the ethical end, and that this end is social as well as individual. As definitions, however, they must be reckoned partial and one-sided. In fact, the ethical end must be regarded not only as a common end but as ideal, 76 The Natiiral Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. if we are to do justice to the inner life which is the source of moral values. In other words, the perfection which is the ethical end is an ideal which transcends present attainment, and implies a per- fected social system as its condition. This corre- sponds to the higher freedom already referred to, the actualisation of all capacities for good in the individual in and through a society which makes this possible. A school of English ethical writers has termed this ideal self-realisation, and the phrase can be commended on several grounds. For it keeps in view the fact that the highest value must be something personal. If a social system is good, it is because the good has its living centre in the personal beings who make up the system. Ethical goodness has a reference in the last resort to persons, and the fact is kept in mind when we speak of it as a realisation of the self. Again this designation of the ideal does justice to the truth that the de- velopment is in and through a historical process. It is a making real in time what the self has in it to become through interaction with other selves. We progress to the ideal by the way of the better, but we cannot now give full content to it. Only through the process of development itself could we know how much there is in a fully realised self. The definition has the terseness and the general applicability which are needed in a definition of the ethical end. The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. 77 Still there is an ambiguity in the phrase, as will be seen when we ask, What is the relation of the ideal self to the actual self ? Plainly the self which has to be made real has not here and now come to the fulness of its utterance. It must be a larger self than the already existing self. Is this ideal self implicit in individual selves ? the flower and fruit, as it were, while they are the germ ? And is ethical progress a progress by which the ideal self works itself out through the historically given self by an inward course of development? If so, self-realisation would have a lower counterpart in organic growth. But there can be little doubt that it is not possible by this construction to do justice to the facts of the moral life. For the ideal self does not explain the real moral develop- ment of the individual in time, which is not con- tinuous and consistent. To understand this we are thrown back on the self which determines itself to act, and in choice identifies itself with conceptions of self which are not always compatible. If we are to describe the moral life in time as a process of self-realisation, we must mean that the self which men are realising is a projected or future self. The self which is taken into the content of the will as end is not the complete and ideal self. It may be an idea of self lower than what we are. But if the act is morally good, it is a self better 78 The Natural Sciences ', Ethics, and Religion. than the existing self, and represents a value in excess of that already attained. The "ought" is ever reflected against the background of the pre- sent. Yet it is not, as we see it, an eternally fixed beacon -light but a luminous point which moves with the background against which it is projected. The better self which ought to be real- ised is conditioned by the self which is, and this in turn is largely influenced by the historical and racial environment in which it appears. Ideals, we all know, vary with individuals and races and epochs in history. Accordingly the end defined as self - realisation has a certain vagueness. We want, if possible, to know more about the kind of self which should be realised, that we may have some principle of appreciation to go on. In these circumstances we are forced to ask, whether the idea of a supreme good, or perfectly realised self, is more than an abstract generalisa- tion from the partial forms of good which have existed. It has not been shown, and it may not be possible to show in a convincing way, by a study of human progress, that the diverse ideals of various races and ages are slowly converging towards a central good. And at the best our survey of the evolution of experience is limited. But still it is a very unsatisfactory view that the supreme ideal is only a useful fiction, and has no The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. 79 reality. For then there would be no reason why different men and races should not content them- selves where they could with quite different con- ceptions of human good. And there could not be any sure conviction on the meaning of progress and the direction in which it lay. For there would be no goal by which to judge of movement. We seem driven to conclude that a Supreme Ideal must in some way be real, if the ends of conduct are to be co-ordinated, if partial ideals are to be trans- cended, and if the good is to grow from less to more. In what sense are we to say, then, that the ideal of a perfectly realised self is real ? Here the student of Ethics is forced, whether he likes it or not, to enter the domain of metaphysics. Readers of Green's ' Prolegomena to Ethics ' will remember that he found it necessary to postulate that the fully realised self was actual in the Eternal Consciousness or God. 1 And he endeavours to bring the ideal into an operative connexion with the historical process by his theory that the in- dividual is in possibility what the Eternal Self is in actuality. Of God, Green remarks, "He is a Being in whom we exist," and " He is all we are capable of becoming." This is not the place to discuss the speculative difficulties in Green's doctrine of the relation of the Eternal to the in- 1 Op. tit., p. 196 ff. 8o The Natiiral Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. dividual consciousness. But we must ask if it offers a satisfactory solution of the ethical problem involved. The difficulty lies in the connexion of the Eternal and Ideal Self, which is above de- velopment, with the development of the self in time. If the finite self knows itself in God to possess eternally the complete good it seeks in piecemeal fashion in time, this temporal develop- ment partakes of the nature of appearance and loses value in consequence. And if the eternally perfect Self is so intimately bound up with our self -consciousness, it does not seem clear what spiritual gain comes of the temporal efforts after a higher good, or why there should be such a circuitous process. But we may cling to the reality and value of the development in time. We may say that the perfectly realised self somehow exists in God, and is the final form of goodness, though it is differentiated from the self which wills the good in time. Then, if we hold to self-realisation as an absolute principle, it is hard to see how the separation of the two selves can be overcome. Between the temporal becoming of the self and its eternal goal inner identity, and so moral con- tinuity, is wanting. For development presupposes incompleteness : and we cannot conceive a process of self-realisation issuing in a timeless and perfect self, which is bound by continuity of consciousness The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. 8 1 and character to the self which wills the good in experience. That is to say, the self as active will cannot bridge the cleft between the real and the ideal, and freedom does not come as the fruition of moral endeavour. The course of the argument thus seems to have brought us to a dilemma. We saw that if a final good or highest value did not exist, there was no trustworthy test of value or determination of pro- gress. And yet, when we try to give an ultimate expression to the ethical end, we find ourselves entangled in contradictions. It seems to me that the only solution to this difficulty lies in the recognition that the ethical consciousness itself is not ultimate and must be transcended. Self- realisation as an ethical principle is not at fault. It is a good working idea of the ethical end, and up to a point satisfies the needs of a theory on the subject. It only becomes contradictory when we try to state it as an absolute principle of spiritual life. For no working out of the moral ideal brings man to the fulfilment of his destiny in the real universe. The Eternal and Perfect Self exists, but by no process of self-realisation can the individual become identical with it. The endeavour of the developing moral life comes to its goal not in the sphere of morality but in that of religion, and here spiritual life takes a new and F 82 The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. higher form. In communion with God, the Perfect Good, man finds, in principle at least, that comple- tion of himself which by no effort of his own after the good has he been able to gain. The deeper drift of the moral life comes to light in religion, and through religion receives a satisfying meaning. God, as Plato noted, rather than man is the true measure of value. 1 And the religious consciousness is the final expression of a man's personal attitude to life. From the formal point of view, then, Eeligion is the goal and completion of Ethics, and there is no antagonism between them. On the level of Ethics man seeks the satisfaction of the self by a process of realising the good in time. Eeligion does not nullify this process but transcends it. The satisfaction man seeks under the form of the moral life it gives, not in the way of personal achieved gain, but in the form of an inward com- pletion and harmony wrought by union with God. It is true, as we pointed out before, that in the historical evolution of Ethics and Eeligion the content of the moral consciousness has sometimes been at discord with the content of the religious consciousness. But such antagonism is temporary : it is not grounded in the nature of things, and has been useful in bringing about a more harmonious 1 Laws, 716 c. The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. 83 relationship. And there can be no doubt that in the course of development the moral consciousness has powerfully influenced religion. For while religion fostered the ethical virtues by acting as a social bond, the ethical spirit in turn reacted on religion, and purified and elevated it. The growing perception of moral values on earth gave man a nobler conception of the things in heaven. The object of faith in every higher religion is qualified by ethical predicates. Yet morality is not the basis of religion, since it really presupposes it. For man would not be moral if he had it not in him to be more than moral. The pursuit of ends entails a final end, and appreciation of value rests on a Supreme Value. But in the region of moral endeavour the ideal is elusive and fades, " For ever and for ever when we move." The fact that man follows and follows vainly the fugitive ideal, is a token that he is somehow cap- able of the satisfaction for which he yearns. He condemns the good he has realised as partial be- cause he feels the contact and appeal of the Good which is complete. And if he is conscious of failure to gain the larger freedom by his own endeavour, it is because he has had a foretaste of the freedom which comes through obedience. The transition of the ethical into the religious 84 The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. consciousness is a movement from a narrower to a larger and more concrete point of view. Eeligion is the expression of a practical relation to experi- ence and its ground. This relation is established by faith, and faith is the utterance of the free spirit within. Our religious faith is just the personal affirmation of the ultimate meaning life has for us. The soul which temporal experience cannot satisfy declares that there is a Being who can satisfy its deepest needs. So religion is the personal expression of human trust in a Keality behind the changing world of experience, a reality at once the source and end of all partial good. Man rises in faith above the strife and limitation of a world where the good develops painfully, and here and now realises in some degree that his broken and fragmentary life is being har- monised and completed by the indwelling Life of God. The psychological motives to religion, as we shall see afterwards, are complex. But they all involve the principle that man is a limited and dependent being, who yet seeks more than he can find within himself. Were men " Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark," they would never be religious. An inner need impels man to religion, and faith posits the object to supply the need. Here we have not intellectual inference, but the The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. 85 more insistent logic of the inner life. The univer- sality of religion is a testimony that the need which is expressed by faith is a normal outcome of human nature. Still, it has often been regarded as a weak- ness that the attitude of the religious consciousness to its object should be one of faith rather than reason. In this respect religion, it is said, is at a disadvantage compared with the Natural Sciences and Ethics which are based on the stable foundation of reason. But this is to overstate the case to the disadvantage of religion ; for the Natural Sciences and Ethics also involve faith, if perhaps not so obviously. The man of science, for example, trusts the principles on which he works, but the field in which he can apply them, and the test to which he can put them, are restricted. And with the ampler evolution of experience they may require modification in the future, just as the modern in- vestigator has revised the principles on which primitive man interpreted nature. The scientific man believes that the particular connexion he establishes between elements, and the ' laws ' he finds in nature, will be valid of experience distant in time and place from his own. Yet he could not make this good by logical proof. A perfect guarantee of his generalisations could only be attained by a rational insight into experience as an inclusive and systematic whole, which determines 86 The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. the development of its parts. Needless to say, the man of science has no such insight. And though his belief in his explanations may have excellent practical justification, this only helps to show that it contains an element of faith. In the region of Ethics faith even more plainly plays a part. Those moral ideals which grow out of the inner life of men are no purely intellectual creations, nor do we believe in them on rational grounds simply. Indeed we could not think them out in clear and detailed form, and we only realise gradually their meaning as we progress towards them. We have faith in their reality and value, but we could not prove these. The appeal of the ' ought ' to the will of man as embodying a value he has not yet, must always contain a demand on his faith. The truth is that faith and reason both issue out of the personal life of man and develop with personal development, and neither is alto- gether separated from the 'other. Faith certainly cannot be held to exclude thought. When it is used in the lower sense of supposition, the mere opinion (Sda) of Plato, it is largely, if not entirely, an imperfectly developed intellectual process. And even that more definitely and intimately personal faith which is the expression of emotional and practical demands, can only attain clearness and generality by connecting itself with ideas which The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. 87 are given through the intellect. But its distin- guishing feature is that it is personal at the core, and has its stronghold in the emotions and the will ; and to this we can trace that characteristic of faith in virtue of which it often continues to affirm the reality of its postulate even against the verdict of reason. Thought, again, seeks to present a larger and connected view of things, and it tries to exclude the subjective and emotional element from its working. But it develops on a personal basis, and it never succeeds in becoming strictly impersonal. The operation of thought, moreover, is always incomplete. It has to begin somewhere and to assume something, but it can never come back on its beginnings and take them up into an all-inclusive whole. Hence reason can never abso- lutely justify its conceptions on grounds of reason. Thought is supplemented by an act of faith which justifies a conception on grounds of value. And the value -judgment springs from the inner personal life, and we cannot reduce it to the theoretical judgment, though there cannot ultimately be a dualism between them. If this view be correct, the prominence of faith in religion is not a token of special defect. The range of faith is wide, and reason cannot take over its office. And it belongs to the psychological nature of religion that the intellectual element 88 The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. should not be so dominant in it as is the case with philosophy. The function of faith in religion will become plainer to us, if we keep in mind that the mere desire for explanation could not of itself beget religion. Piety would be unmeaning in a purely intellectual being. The restless endeavour of the will, the pressure of emotional need as well as the thoughts which " wander through eternity," are all active in creating the demand for an object which can satisfy and harmonise the inner life. Hence no intellectual conception can exhaust the significance of the object of religious faith. To the piously disposed a philosophic notion of the Infinite is a stone rather than bread. In view of what the object of faith does and means for those who are religious, we must also conceive it in terms of value as a highest value which gives order and meaning to the partial values realised in the life of the individual and the race. That the spirit of man, which seeks support and satisfaction in communion with an unseen object, finds what it seeks, is, in some degree, an evidence that faith does not fall down before a phantom of its own creation but establishes contact with reality. Eeligion, although its aim is not theoretical, yet as it postulates a highest value which completes and harmonises the personal life, involves a Welt- The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. 89 anschauung. Like philosophy it presents us with a view of the world as a whole, and so furnishes a wider outlook than either Science or Ethics. That outlook is primarily an appreciation, a judg- ment of facts in terms of a central value. To the religious man as such, scientific explanations are of minor interest ; he rather considers whither things tend and what their worth is in relation to the perfect good. Life unrolls before him as a system of ends, which have meaning and coherence by reference to a supreme End. So the world becomes a graduated order seen sub specie boni. Yet it is not true to say, as some do, that the religious consciousness moves entirely on the lines of the value-judgment. For the religious man must think as well as feel and will, and the kingdom of the soul cannot be at peace if thought is in rebellion. So he cannot help regarding his highest value as somehow satisfying thought and explaining what exists. He derives the world from God, the Supreme Good. But the religious mind, we repeat, is not interested in finding significance in things through their complex relations to one another. It neglects the intermediate links, and construes nature and life by the final purpose which is being wrought out in them. But inasmuch as it does this, religion involves a synthesis which gives meaning to reality. In the more developed re- QO The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. ligions, which have expanded into systems of theology, considerable emphasis is frequently laid on the fact that they explain things, and up to a point at least satisfy the demands of the intellect. Nevertheless religion neither does nor can identify itself fully with the standpoint of intellectualism. It will not embark on a thorough criticism of its own postulates, and pleads the necessity of faith. It refuses to admit that the world of values can be reduced to categories of thought. The stronghold of religion is personal experience, and this experi- ence is richer than any satisfaction of the intellect. " Our hearts are restless till they find rest in Thee," cried Augustine, who had found neither the pleas- ures of life nor philosophy satisfying. "Pectus theologum facit," said a school of later divines, thus giving their testimony that spiritual life is the true fountain of profitable doctrine. Still religion does not utter the last word on things human and divine. Thought with its " obstinate questionings " refuses quietly to merge itself in faith. For problems are left confronting us which do not admit of solution from the purely religious point of view. The world of facts and the world of values remain apart from one another, and an inner bond between them has not been established. That they fall within experience we know, and we judge now from the one point of The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. 9 1 view and again from the other. But how there is continuity of development between fact and value, so that both form valid and consistent aspects of the organised whole of experience, is not clear. The question thrusts itself upon us, and religion cannot answer it. And further, we find the problem of religious value complicated by the fact that religions differ, and so do their scales of value. The religious good, for example, as the Hindu conceives it, is curiously unlike that of a European Christian, and so the goods which are a means are likewise regarded differently. With varying notions of value before us, we have to ask ourselves, Is there any common standard of appreciation ? Is there a normal human nature whose value-experiences are regulative ? Or can we by reflecting on the development of the religious consciousness, and on the historic forms in which it is embodied, bring to light an ideal of religion by which we can determine the relative worth of different religions ? Then there is another and related problem which calls for discussion. Eeligion, if an important aspect of culture, is still only one aspect. How are we to conceive its rela- tion to the other aspects ? By a study of the respective processes we can try, as we have done, to show how it relates itself to, and contrasts itself with, Ethics and Science. In a like way one might discuss the relation of religion to Art. The results 92 The Natiiral Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. of such discussions cannot, however, be final, as our point of view has been partial. While the study of the parts should precede the whole, yet the full meaning of the parts can only be determined in the light of the whole. So it would seem that the ultimate significance of religion and its function in culture can only be appreciated by the mind which sees the different aspects of experience together. To deal fully with the problems raised by religion we must, therefore, go beyond the purely religious point of view. They can only be properly treated by a Philosophy of Keligion. And the latter again will be determined in its method and point of view by general Philosophy. At present, however, it will be widely admitted that Philosophy is not in a position to synthesise and explain the whole of experience by a universal principle. The matter to be explained has become vast and complex, and between the general principles with which Phil- osophy works and the world of particular facts, there is for us a breach of continuity. Similarly, between the experience we designate 'mere fact' and the higher spiritual experiences of the individual, a line of immanent development has not been traced. But Philosophy, if it cannot unify all experience, at least helps us to understand the nature of the problem and the conditions under which a solution may be attempted. And it opens out general points of view TJu Natiiral Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. 93 by which we can correct the onesidedness which clings to special sciences and phases of culture. It suggests, tentatively at all events, the standpoint from which the universe may be best regarded as a coherent whole. Hence the concluding word on the relations of Science, Ethics, and Keligion falls to be spoken by Philosophy. Although that word be not ultimate, it represents the deepest insight of a particular stage of human culture. The Philosophy of Eeligion, it may be added, dis- tinguishes itself from general Philosophy mainly by its starting-point and method. The one begins with the part and tries to show its meaning in the whole ; the other seeks to show how the whole includes the part. Philosophy deals with religion as an element falling within the synthesis of experience. Philos- ophy of Keligion begins with the study of religious phenomena, in order to bring to light the essential principles. Hence it proceeds to show how these find a meaning and a place in the larger order of things. This is its point of contact with general Philosophy. But even though the latter fails to offer any adequate interpretation of all experience, the Philosophy of Keligion may still perform an important office. It will discuss the origin and development of the religious consciousness, the psychological factors involved, as well as the func- tion and value of religion in culture. And as the 94 The Natural Sciences, Ethics, and Religion. outcome of this it will try to unfold the deeper meaning of religion. But the success of a Philos- ophy of Eeligion in attacking the latter problem must finally depend on the sufficiency of the point of view offered by Philosophy in the larger sense. ESSAY III. RELIGIOUS DEVELOPMENT: ITS HISTOEY AND INTERPRETATION ESSAY III. THE present-day student who devotes himself to the History of Religion is oppressed by the wealth of material which lies before him. The investiga- tions of the last century, pursued in the dis- passionate spirit which befits science, have made a multitude of fresh facts available. Through the intricate and varied mass of phenomena set before him the student finds it no easy thing to thread his way, and reach a point where he can see general principles and state determinate con- clusions. We might compare him to a man wandering in a vast forest, now overshadowed by great trees, now plunged into a rank undergrowth, and doubtful whether he will ever see the wood for the trees. The phenomena are so complex, and higher and lower elements are so often inter- mingled, that a logical arrangement of them must to some extent be arbitrary. Hence to accept Plato's rule and follow always the natural joints 98 Religious Development : in our divisions is, in the nature of the case, not practicable. 1 Tiele, one of the most competent workers in this field, finally contents himself with a broad classification of religions into Natural and Ethical. And even here there may be difference of opinion as to where the line should fall. This difficulty then faces us when we turn to study the history of religion. The facts cannot naturally be compressed within a scheme of logical development. There is, indeed, a continuity in the growth of a religion, and no phase of it but has a meaning. Thought, however, is only one element in the religious consciousness, and does not suffice to control the evolution of religion by the principle of intellectual consistency. If we are to speak of the logic of religious evolution, it must be that larger logic which embraces the working of human needs, emotions, and desires. The worker, then, in the field of religious pheno- mena has a complicated material to deal with, and he has to face the question of the method he will follow. He may decide to proceed on purely historic lines. He therefore endeavours above all to ascertain the facts, to present them accurately and group them as far as possible, but he avoids any comprehensive explanation of them. Such is the method adopted by Dr Tylor in his excellent 1 Phsedrus, 265, E. its History and Interpretation. 99 book on ' Primitive Culture/ and it has given it a permanent value which does not belong to bolder but more imaginative works in the same field. But the careful sifting, arrangement, and presentation of materials only lay the foundation for further inquiry, and in themselves cannot satisfy the reason. To know the facts is necessary, but we also want to know the meaning of the facts : the on, in Aristotelian phrase, must become the Sicm. Most people will admit that it is only when we go beyond merely empirical results, and discern law and connexion behind things, that we can duly appreciate their significance. The scientific spirit always refuses to regard phenomena, whether natural or historical, as isolated and independent. And the scientific historian, if he knows his business, tries to show how events and movements connect themselves with what has gone before and with what comes after. The student of religious development cannot be indifferent to the pressure of this demand ; for even the domain of faith the region par excellence of human hopes and fears is not, after all, a fairyland where any- thing may be the result of anything. Still the elucidation of the early history of religion offers peculiar difficulties. It is not possible for the modern inquirer to grasp fully the condition of mind of primitive men. If it is difficult for the ioo Religious Development : mature man to enter into the mental world of childhood, it is harder for him to appreciate the psychical condition of his remotest ancestors. He is apt to forget this, and to interpret the savage mind too much through his own. But in a matter like this we cannot attain to more than probable, it may sometimes be highly probable, inference. And yet it is just an insight into the psychology of the primitive mind which is most important in interpreting the origin and growth of religious belief. Again, at particular points we find ourselves hampered by evidence which lends itself to diverse inferences. Hence it is sometimes difficult to prevent subjective presuppositions from influenc- ing the treatment of our materials. The cautious student will now and then have to leave points undecided in the interests of objective interpreta- tion. And where more than one explanation is possible he will be careful not to press a particular theory further than the evidence warrants. 1 What is the proper method to follow, it may be asked, in trying to understand the evolution of religion ? The so-called a priori method does not 1 As an example of this error one might instance the excessive importance attached to totemism by Mr Jevons, in his ' In- troduction to the History of Eeligion,' or the ubiquitous part played by the spirit of vegetation in Mr Frazer's 'Golden Bough.' its History and Interpretation. 101 find much favour in these days when there is a reaction against the bolder flights of speculation. The wealth and variety of material discourage the attempt to apply transcendental principles of ex- planation in the sphere of religious history. Such interpretations, when carried out, may be ingenious and perhaps at points suggestive, but they are artificial, and do not arise naturally out of a study of the phenomena. Nor is there, it seems to me, any gain in introducing scientific concepts, drawn from the domain of biology, into the history of religion for the purpose of interpretation. Terms like ' natural selection ' and the ' survival of the fittest,' when applied to the rise and fall of re- ligions, import misleading associations from a lower sphere into a higher. And they are useless as explanations of the transition from one form of religion to another. Neither Metaphysics nor Science can help us here. Our key must be a psychological one ; it must lie in the inner nature of man, from which religion everywhere proceeds. The mind of man, thinking, feeling, and willing, is the constant factor in religious history; and the stages and forms of spiritual development must in their characteristic features reflect the nature of the source from which they issue. So it seems to me that Hoffding is entirely in the right when he insists that the true IO2 Religious Development : method by which to study the growth of religion is the psychological-genetic method. 1 We shall be strengthened in this conviction when we remember that, while thought largely predominates in the development of science and philosophy, it is by no means so in religion. In the latter feeling and will play as large a part as the intellect, and they make their presence constantly felt in the evolution of religious belief. For example, in trying to under- stand the phenomena of religious progress and reform, survival and decadence, we must connect them, first of all, with the psychological elements which are at work in human nature. In this way we may find that what seems obscure and incon- sistent in the evolution of religions becomes more intelligible by being brought into relation with one or other of the factors of the inner life. Is the psychological interpretation of the religious development a final one ? Some, no doubt, in these days when a certain distrust of metaphysical specu- lation is abroad, will be disposed to reply in the affirmative. Yet it is plain that, if we cannot go beyond the psychological meaning of religious ex- perience, the whole question of the objective truth and validity of that experience is left in abeyance. The claim which every religion makes to be true urges us beyond the limits of a psychological 1 Keligionsphilosophie, pp. 123, 124. its History and Interpretation. 103 inquiry. The final interpretation of religious evolu- tion presupposes a determination of the idea of religion as well as an explanation of the ultimate meaning and ground of religious experience. Only in this way, and not from a purely psychological study, can we gain an objective standard of appre- ciation in dealing with religions. This task, of course, falls to a Philosophy of Keligion, and it may be any solution we can give will be tentative and provisional. Still, a Philosophy of Eeligion, if it is to be true to its function, must deal with the problem, and its treatment will only be effective if it takes into consideration the psychological facts. This will be the best guarantee that the theory it offers is neither fanciful nor one-sided. Our aim in the present essay is a limited one, and does not go beyond an attempt to interpret psychologically the development of religion. Our inquiry may begin with the question of the origin of religion. A certain ambiguity lurks in the word origin. Like the Aristotelian apx 7 ?* it is susceptible of two meanings : it can signify the beginning or temporal starting-point of a series, and likewise the cause or ground of the series (OLLTLOV). The origin of religion in the former sense would be a purely historical question. When and how in the history of the world did religion first appear? In the second case the inquiry turns on IO4 Religious Development : the psychological causes which bring religion into being. The first problem in the nature of the case cannot be solved with the materials at our disposal ; the vast prehistoric period is veiled in darkness, and the conditions and character of the earliest human life can only be inferred more or less uncertainly. How or when religion first appeared in the world is, therefore, a hopeless inquiry. This much we may affirm, anything worthy to be called religion could not have emerged among mankind prior to the formation of some kind of social union, and without a certain development of language. The second problem offers a more fruitful field of inquiry. It signifies that we investigate the genetic - causal ground of religious development. The question may be put thus, What elements in the inner life of man, interacting with his outer environment, beget that attitude of mind which is termed religion ? The sources cannot be temporary or accidental. For amid ceaseless change in out- ward circumstances and social conditions religion abides as an element in culture. Like art and morals, it is a permanent expression of the human spirit. What, then, are its roots in man's inner nature ? We seek a psychological explanation, and the ontological ground of the phenomenon is not in question. Before dealing with this matter, it might seem its History and Interpretation. 105 advisable to define religion. Such a definition, however, to have any value would require to be based on an adequate examination of the pheno- mena. And while I admit we need some principle of distinction between what is religious and what is not, I believe the importance of a verbal definition to be secondary. In point of fact I doubt whether, in a case where the phenomena are so wide in range and diverse in spiritual significance, any one formula will perfectly embrace all the facts. 1 Such a definition, for example, as is given by Menzies in his 'Handbook on the History of Keligion,' " Eeligion is the worship of unseen powers from a sense of need," will work well enough ; but it is not always equally applicable. Still, I do not see that we should gain anything by going over the historic types of religion to find, if possible, a common feature which will serve as a label. And there is a danger that if we proceed by eliminating the specific features of particular religions in order to come to some common quality which belongs equally to all, the result may be a superficial abstraction. 2 We are more likely to grasp the essence of religion by showing the constant factors which generate it. 1 Cp. Caird, Evolution of Eeligion, vol. i. p. 39 ff. 2 It seems to me that Hoffding has fallen into this error when he finds the essence of religion to be " faith in the persistence of value." 1 06 Religious Development : The significance of these factors changes with the different phases and stages of the religious conscious- ness, but they maintain an identity in their differ- ences. Stated in their most general form these factors are the subject and object : and religion from religare, to bind denotes a bond between them. Both terms of the relation must, however, be qualified in a particular way ere we have that determinate modification of consciousness called piety, or religion. The object always comes before the mind as real, as possessing power, and so able to affect men for weal or woe. A powerless god is a contradiction ; and so the fetish which is judged to be impotent is discarded. Further, the subject must be determined in a special way by the object. The purely intellectual apprehension of the object may be the attitude of mind in science or philosophy, but it is not so in religion. Hence, to say that religion arises from the Infinite involved in consciousness is not enough. Though the fact be true, there would not be religion without further predisposing conditions in the subject. An epis- temological analysis cannot do duty for the present- ation of psychological motives. For religion a cer- tain emotional tone is necessary the feeling of awe and reverence. But religion as an affection of the subject is not merely an impression received from the object. The subject relates itself to the object, its History and Interpretation. 107 and the pressure of its inwardly felt needs prompts it to do so. These needs the power or powers wor- shipped are believed to be able to satisfy. Hence the sense of trust and dependence which is involved in the religious consciousness. 1 Moreover, the bond between worshipper and wor- shipped is a practical one : it appeals to the will, and is realised in the acts which constitute the cultus and represent religious conduct. For " religion means that action is bound, obliged, that there is no choice between opposites, but supreme decided- ness for the right without option." 2 The primacy of feeling in originating religion has often been noted. "Primus in orbe fecit deos timor." The frequently quoted saying of Statius, however, unduly limits the emotional motives. Not only fear but awe and wonder, gratitude and hope, assist at the birth of faith. Nevertheless we admit that fear, disappointment, anxiety, the feelings in short which are most closely connected with the limitations of the human lot, would be specially active in urging man to find a more assured exist- ence, by establishing a bond of union with higher powers. Faith, even in its rudest form, implies a 1 Even on purely psychological grounds M. Arnold's definition of religion as ' morality touched by emotion ' is defective. 2 Schelling, quoted by Wallace, 'Lectures on Natural Theology and Ethics,' p. 59. io8 Religious Development : certain discontent with what is : the sober present never fully corresponds to human desire and long- ing. Eeligion is the abiding witness to the truth that the human self can never find a full satisfaction through its environment. But though great stress be laid on the urgency of feeling in developing the religious consciousness, feeling cannot stand alone as an explanation. For religion is also belief and demands a certain activity of mind. Feeling must be qualified by thought if it is to be significant : and the crudest religious rela- tionship must have an element of universality in it. We cannot, as already remarked, conceive of a re- ligion prior to the evolution of forms of speech ; and language which implies some sort of social union also implies some development of thought. The worshipper must have an idea of the powers or spirits which he worships, and this means at least a rudimentary capacity to generalise and hold before consciousness. H. Usener, in a suggestive investi- gation into the names of the gods, deals with the relation of language to primitive religion. 1 In his view the earliest objects of worship are gods of the moment (AugenblicJcsg otter), objects whom the de- sire and stress of the instant have made divine. By repetition a deity of this fugitive kind develops into a specific, or departmental god, and is desig- 1 Die Gotternamen. its History and Interpretation. 109 nated adjectivally (the bright, the strong). Finally a god gets a name, becomes personal, and rises from the sensuous to the ideal sphere. Classes two and three in Usener's theory, correspond generally to the distinction between spiritism and polytheism. As to the first class, I doubt whether it can fairly be regarded as the primitive and original stage of the religious consciousness. 1 To invoke a thing as divine in the stress of the moment surely implies a con- sciousness of the divine which is wider than the particular experience. And a relation which is of the moment merely does not seem to be in the full sense religious. So far as Usener's AugenblicJcsgotter represent a real phase in the evolution of religion, they are best regarded as a degenerate outgrowth of his second class : we shall find that much the same relationship exists between fetishism and spiritism. We conclude, then, that the psychological genesis of religion cannot be traced back to the emotional impulse of the moment. Feeling, we repeat, to be religious, involves some activity of thought ; and religion presupposes that man has already put some sort of meaning into his experience of things. The crude meaning which he has read into the world about him serves as the basis on which he builds his religious faith. The early view of things which lies 1 Usener cites as an illustration of an AugenblicJcsgott, ^Eschylus y ' Septem contra Thebas,' 529, 530. 1 1 o Religious Development : behind religion is animism. In its origin animism is not a conscious theory, but man's instinctive projection of his own experience into the objects around him. The savage reads into the chang- ing phenomena of nature the same life and power which he is conscious of within himself. Only thus are growth, movement, change in nature, intelligible to him. Winds and waters, clouds and stars, trees and plants were instinctively regarded as possessing a life like his own. Though we find it hard to realise, in the lower culture the idea of the inani- mate and the unconscious does not exist; it only appears with the development of a greater capacity to abstract and generalise. Originating in an in- stinctive act of mind and not in deliberate reflexion, animism came to represent the way in which primi- tive man habitually thinks of the world around him. It is explanation in its primeval form. Anim- ism is universal as a stage of culture ; we see evid- ence of it among all races, from the Esquimaux and Finns in the north to the Australian aborigines in the south. By itself, however, it is not religion, as it is sometimes loosely termed. For in religion there must be a distinctive relation of the subject to an object, and this means an act of selection on the part of the subject. From the nature of the case worship must be directed to some things and not to everything, and what determines choice ? its History and Interpretation. 1 1 1 The answer clearly is that those objects which are believed to stand in close relation to individual desires and wants will be chosen. Primitive man acted on the rule do ut des, and the things he rever- enced were always those he supposed could affect him for good or ill. It is the supervention of human need on the animistic view of the world which begets the religious bond : the determining factor is within, not without. 1 The distinction between animism and spiritism is not hard and fast. There is no historic evidence of a stage of culture where the first existed but not the second. The difference in name is justified if we regard spiritism as the result of a process which gave a higher form to the animistic con- sciousness. Worship, we saw, implied selection, and the attribution of a special power to the object selected. If a man reverences a tree or a stone it must be more than other trees and stones. It possesses power for good or ill, but why ? The answer is that there is a spirit in it. This inter- pretation is psychologically intelligible, and is simply man's inreading into things of a development in his own experience. For the primitive mind the 1 To say that religion is " the solution of the contradiction between outer determination and inner freedom " is no more than an abstract way of putting the psychological facts. In reality it does not describe these fully, and is of course no explanation of the ultimate meaning of religion. 1 1 2 Religious Development : distinction between fact and fancy, hallucination and real perception, the dream and the waking consciousness, does not exist. All experiences are alike objective. But the savage is confronted by the fact that his fleshly body has not really fol- lowed the course of his dreams. So a distinction develops between the body and the soul, the latter being conceived as a finer self, which usually dwells within the body though it is not confined to it, and sometimes wanders forth to strange adven- tures. 1 The dream is true, but it is a history of what happened to the soul in its absence from the body. The distinction which primitive man drew within his own experience he transferred to things about him. Hence arose the conception of spirits which reside in things but yet are not bound to them. The saying attributed to Thales, rraivTa 7T\rjp-rj 0ea>v, is a reminiscence of the ubiquity of spirits in early culture. In springs and rivers, trees and groves, in fire and earth, they were found, all possible objects of reverence, if not all actually worshipped. All races have passed through this stage of belief, though they have differed in the degree of development they have given to it. 1 Cp. the remarks on the same point in the essay " On the Distinc- tion between Inner and Outer Experience." The dream -soul or shadow-self plays a great part in the lower culture. For the Homeric view vid. Iliad, 23, 101-105. The Egyptian Ka, as is well known, was made the subject of elaborate doctrines. its History and Interpretation. 1 1 3 Spiritism is closely interwoven with minor nature- worship, to use the phrase of Keville. Places frequented by spirits, the objects in which they dwelt, became sacred. Hence there were holy wells and groves, trees and mountains, for spirits haunted them who could help or hurt men. The selection of these sites was sometimes due to the need they supplied : the spring quenched man's thirst, the tree gave him fruit. At other times choice may have been due to some fortuitous circumstance which convinced the savage mind, not able to dis- tinguish between conjunction and causality, that spirits were present there. 1 When once selected, sentiment gathered round a spot and tradition handed down its sanctity. The mystery of age by-and-by cast a spell on men's minds ; and holy places have enjoyed a local reverence, and some- times more than this, even when the faith which created them has lost its power to move mankind. The tree in the Arician grove, the oak of Dodona, the 'green tree' which overshadowed the Canaan- itish altars, and the sacred wells of our own land, all tell the tale how the vestiges of an older cult may linger on and touch the imagination of an after-age. The careful inquirer who looks beneath the surface of a later culture will always find 1 The application of the principle post hoc ergo propter hoc is the source of many of the vagaries of early belief. H H4 Religious Development : traces of a minor nature-worship which once was flourishing. The question suggests itself, What is the relation of the minor to the greater n ature- worship ? By the latter is meant the worship, for example, of heaven, sun and moon, dawn and thunder. Keville has suggested that the latter is an extension or outgrowth from the lesser nature- worship. 1 The hypothesis is tempting, especially to those who like to see orderly progress everywhere. For minor nature-worship is circumscribed in its appeal and conservative in its tendency. But the greater nature-worship cannot be locally restricted in this way : even the primitive barbarian would find it hard to claim for his tribe a monopoly of the sun or the heavens. Man in all his wanderings could not pass away from them, and so the worship of the larger phenomena of nature ultimately became, as we shall see, a means of transition from the tribal to a wider form of religious union. Never- theless one cannot see why the one form of wor- ship necessarily precedes the other ; and the savage who is capable of reverencing an animal or a tree should also be able to worship the sun or moon. It would be hazardous to apply the maxim of Cicero in this case, " Quod crebro videt non miratur " ; 1 Eeligiona des Penples non Civilians, vol. ii. p. 225. its History and Interpretation. 115 for the rolling thunder, the howling wind, the changing moon must have forced themselves on the notice and provoked the awe and wonder of the humblest barbarian. It seems safer to conclude that the greater nature-worship, if it did not develop so rapidly, in its beginnings may be as early as the minor nature- worship. 1 And both have their roots in animism. But the individual who has reached a satisfactory conclusion about the facts we have been considering is perplexed by a fresh group of religious phenomena which, to appearance, seems rather remotely related to the other group. I refer to Ancestor-worship, the worship of the souls of the dead, and Totemism. Between the members of this second class a connex- ion may be shown, but the relation of the whole class to the first class is less clear. Is the one group earlier than the other, and, if so, which is the earlier ? Are both independent growths, and, if not, is it possible to show how the one developed out of the other? Mr Herbert Spencer, it is well known, re- gards ancestor - worship as primitive and nature- worship as derivative " an aberrant form of ghost- worship." 2 The theory has found few supporters, 1 This seems to me one of the points where our defective knowledge of primitive psychical conditions makes it unsafe to dogmatise. 2 Ecclesiastical Institutions, 687. 1 1 6 Religious Development : and in itself it is neither natural nor probable. Yet the cult of the Manes is undoubtedly very old, older among the Aryans, according to Fustel de Coulanges, than the cult of Indra or Zeus. 1 But though it existed prior to the evolution of the greater gods, we cannot say that it is the oldest form of spiritism. The spirits man found in nature were a reflex of the soul he had learned to recognise in himself; and it seems at least likely that the spirits in the world about him first provoked his worship, because they were more readily associated with his daily wants and fears. The psychological causes which special- ised spiritism in the cult of souls are fairly clear. Early man, we saw, had no notion of the inanimate, and death appeared to him no more than a kind of sleep in which the soul was still active. The reappearance of the dead in dreams was a sure token that they still haunted the earth in ghost- like form. The soul was thought to linger near the body it once inhabited, and like other spirits these souls of the departed could powerfully affect the living for good or evil. Of the doctrine of ghost- souls Dr Tylor says, that " it extends through barbarian life almost without a break, and survives largely and deeply in the midst of civilisation." The student of Greek and Koman religion, for example, will find abundant evidence for it in the 1 La cit6 antique, p. 19. its History and Interpretation. 1 1 7 burial customs and other survivals in the historic period. 1 It is to be inferred that the organised worship of the spirits of ancestors is later than the primitive cult of ghosts ; for it implies a growth in the con- sciousness of the value of family and social ties. The god who is an ancestor in claiming the worship of his descendants rests his appeal on the sense of a common bond and 'the duty of a common loyalty. The cult of ancestral souls depends on family and tribal solidarity. At this point emerges the link of connexion between ancestor-worship and totem- ism. In the lower stages of culture the tribal bond could only be conceived in an external and material way, as embodied in a thing. The totem is the reflex of the sense of unity in clan or tribe. It is true that totemism is not a purely religious phe- nomenon. It is connected with exogamy, and is associated with prohibitions which may not have had a religious significance at first. But un- doubtedly the totem the plant or animal which was the ancestor of the tribe and embodied its life came to be an object of religious reverence. The 1 Besides the work of F. de Coulanges, we may refer to E. Kohde's book, 'Psyche.' The reader will find there the evidence for a primitive cult of souls in Greece, drawn from burial customs recorded in Homer and elsewhere. On Greek and Eoman tombs the inscrip- tions are found 0eots \9ovio^ Dls Manibus. Cp. Eurip., Alcestis, 1003, 1004, vvv &' , w iXe Zet), /caret The Roman Jupiter has likewise a primitive con- nexion with the heaven "Sub frigido Jove" and a philological kinship with his Hellenic counterpart. These examples might be added to. But enough has been said to justify the view we have taken of the way in which the national consciousness raised 1 It is not, of course, meant that all the greater gods were originally nature-powers. Brahma is an instance of a god origin- ating in the cult. The Eoman religion furnishes examples of the apotheosis of purely social functions. 132 Religious Development : tribal religion to a form adequate to its needs. It did so by developing the greater nature- worship into a polytheistic system. And in the process the material basis of the gods was gradually outgrown. The physical root of a deity is overlaid with higher attributes, and resembles the rudimentary organs of some animal type by which the biologist is able to spell out its remoter lineage. This development consists in giving content and personal definiteness to the idea of a god ; and it is made possible by the growth of higher social and ethical qualities within the nation. The evolution of personal character on earth gives a higher conception of the things in heaven. " Und wir verehren Die Unsterblichen Als waren sie Menschen, Thaten im Grossen Was der Beste im Kleinen Thut oder mbchte." The movement of the mind by which the gods are clothed with all human virtues likewise invests them with higher social meaning. They become the ideal representatives and protectors of special departments of the national life. The earthly state has a counterpart in the commonwealth above. So the interests, aspirations, and activities of a race, as well as the different aspects of its social life, are its History and Interpretation. 133 represented in the gods of the State, and as the moral consciousness grows they receive a corres- pondingly higher moral character. To illustrate this. In China, Tian, or Heaven, was identified with the principle of order, and measure, and just custom, and became the pattern of right for those upon the earth. The Vedic Varuna was exalted to the place of a highest ruler who saw all things, who required piety in his worshippers, and to whom confession of sins was made. The Greek Apollo may have been originally a light-god, but he after- wards became the deity who presided over the art of healing, and wielded the gift of prophecy. Athene, who was perhaps at first the lightning- flash, became the goddess who was the pattern of civic valour and good counsel, and whose interests were bound up with the city which was called by her name. Mars, an ancient Italian deity of spring and fertility, cast his preserving care over agri- culture, and became the god of war as well. The Teutonic Odin, besides war, took understanding and culture under his protection. The Egyptian Osiris, who appears to have been originally the Sun after his setting, was raised to be ruler of the realm of departed spirits, the moral judge who weighs in a balance the good and evil done in the flesh. The ascription of diverse functions to the one god was a consequence of the multiplication of human 134 Religious Development : interests and activities. Yet this was not the sole reason. Sometimes the process was due to the desire to introduce unity and coherence into the local cults. In Egypt the sun-god Ka absorbed the various local sun-gods, who became aspects of Ra. In Greece we find a like movement working upon more diverse materials. The Zeus e^SeVSptos of Dodona was no doubt a primeval tree-spirit. The Zeus cDuos was a god of the sea. The Zeus x#oi>ios worshipped at Mount Ida and Crete at both of which the grave of Zeus was shown was probably an earth-spirit. These gods, really of diverse origin, were harmonised by being designated as aspects of Zeus. But this tendency to unify is not strictly universal, and a society as it grows more complex sometimes goes on adding to its deities. This was markedly the case among the Komans, whose crowd of 'little gods,' thinly veiled abstractions as they were, was constantly being augmented. 1 But the influences which make for unification commonly pre- dominate at this stage. Political and social reasons make it desirable that the citizens of a state should not be divided in their religion. The organisation of society suggests a supremacy and headship among the gods. The reflective con- sciousness seeks unity behind multiplicity, and looks for a greater god on whom the lesser gods depend. 1 Vid. Aust, Die Eeligion der Komer, 19, 20. its History and Interpretation. 135 Moreover, this tendency of thought is supported by the instinct which is in the worshipper to adore a particular god as supreme in the act of reverence. The suppliant craving the help of a god thinks of that god for the time being as greatest and strongest. The existence of the other gods is of course in no sense denied. This attitude of the religious mind has been termed Kathenotheism, and Vedic worship is usually cited as an illustration of it. Sayce finds the same movement of mind in the religion of Egypt. 1 A further advance towards unity is revealed in Henotheism, which means that while many gods are admitted to exist, worship is reserved for one only. The dividing line between these two phases of belief is shadowy. In the latter case, however, faith in the supremacy and uniqueness of the god worshipped has become a permanent, not a passing, attitude of mind. The Hebrew Psalmist has been quoted as speaking the language of Henotheism. " Thou, Lord, art high above all the earth : Thou art exalted above all gods" (Ps. xcvii. 9). And the well-known lines of Xenophanes are henotheistic in spirit : Efc #609 %v re Qeolai KOL avdpcoTroicrt, Ol/T6 SeJLdS QvYToion the epistemo- logical discussion in the preceding essay. It was there argued that outer experience implied realities which were not created by the perceptive subject. The point now before us is the nature of the ground which these substances presuppose. But to whatever result the discussion of this problem may lead us, it will not be a final and complete determination of the World - Ground. We must Meaning of Religion. 219 bring our result into relation with the implica- tions of inner experience, with the realm of self- consciousness and those personal aspirations and ethical values which form an essential aspect of the self-conscious life. The result will show how far we can hope to determine the final ground of all experience, alike from the point of view of form and of content. We shall then have to consider the ground in the definite aspect in which it is the basis of the religious consciousness. The last step will be to suggest a view of the meaning of religion and its development, founded on the con- clusions we have come to on the nature of the finite spirit and its relation to God, the ultimate ground of all things. Our first task, then, is to examine the implications of outer experience, and try to determine the nature of the reality which it presupposes as its ground and condition. The argument in the preceding paper led us to the view that experience is a historic development, in which we can distinguish sensitive, perceptual, and conceptual stages. Only at the latter level, and as the result of the generalised thinking which intersubjective intercourse makes possible, is the universal distinction of inner and outer elaborated and fixed. But the distinction drawn by subjective thinking is the interpretation of a real difference. The objective world must be 220 The ultimate Basis and more than a generalised notion which takes form as the result of the interplay of many minds. If not, obvious facts of experience remain unexplained. The question then arises, What are the realities which we must presuppose are involved in the pre- sentation in experience of that which we call nature ? As we saw already, we cannot accept the scientific conception of atoms or for that part the more recent analysis of the atom into electrons as the answer. For that which implies the process of ideal construction cannot at the same time be that which lies beyond it. And everything which has dimensions and sensible qualities involves the work of mind. The fact of an external world seemed best explained on the theory that it meant the existence of spiritual centres of experience, con- tinuous in character with the human ego, but standing at lower levels of development. A system of monads acting and reacting on each other, and giving rise in self-conscious minds to the interpre- tation of reality as a variously qualified world of things, we took to be the basis both of perceptual and conceptual experience. We shall not repeat the arguments by which we sought to defend this pluralism against objections more or less serious. Our aim now is to find out how far we can determine the ultimate ground of such a system of spiritual substances. The phrase Meaning of Religion. 221 " spiritual substance " is used here, it will be recol- lected, for that which is a centre of experience, and which in some way has a being-for-self. To call these centres causalities or activities, as Wundt does, is rather a matter of terminology than of real differ- ence in meaning. For we cannot think of activity without thinking of that which maintains itself and has a being for itself. A formless and indeterminate activity could not explain anything. If represented relations and qualities imply the interaction of reals, these reals must be something for themselves ere they can be something to one another. Kelations without a basis of relation melt away in the unsub- stantial void. But while the monad is not con- stituted by its connexion with other monads, its character can only become explicit by its interaction with them. Development of reality as experience is not of the abstract unit, but is always by a syn- thesis, and the reference to self becomes explicit and fully defined through reference to another. But while interaction thus gives articulation to the self, it cannot create those centres of experi- ence which are necessary to the development of experience. When we speak of the relations of the reals to one another, we must bear in mind that the term implies ideational activity, and this has its root in the action and reaction of substances. In other 222 The ultimate Basis and words, the growth of experience is based on the activity which exists between its real elements. To call this process an interaction of wills, as has been done, is no doubt, from one point of view, open to objection : for the term will has a special- ised psychological meaning, and implies a process of mental construction. But we must speak of the centres of experience as active, and the right to employ the notion of activity in this connexion has been called in question. The point is important, for in the long-run our title to speak of God as active is involved in it. The gist of the objection to the use of the term in Metaphysics is, that it is only a working conception in the domain of psy- chology. It contains, we are told, assumptions and involves contradictions ; and while it may be con- veniently used to describe psychological phenomena, there is no ground for treating it as ultimately real. Now it is true that the word activity, as we use it in reference to ourselves, stands for something more than we are immediately conscious of. The feeling of inner vation, the sense of power going from us into act, is not simple, but implies experience, and so expectation of the result. That is to say, it involves generalisation. But all this may be true and yet the idea of activity need not rest on an illusion. Indeed the fact that we use, and cannot help using, the idea, is so far evidence that it stands for something Meaning of Religion. 223 real. Deny it of the self, and you are compelled to attribute it to the ideas which belong to the self. Suppose for the moment that activity is no more than a mental fiction which we find it convenient to employ, then our experience is reduced to a series of presentations without purposive connexion, and we ourselves are only the ineffectual spectators of a drama in which we fondly dream that we play a part. It is certainly in point to urge that our whole practical life becomes unintelligible on this assumption. If there could be such a thing as a self purely passive, the development of experience in it would be impossible. On the other hand, it may well be that the reason why we are not able to know ourselves immediately as active, just lies in the fact that we are dealing with something primi- tive and inseparable from experience in any form. We cannot instinctively distinguish the feeling of activity from that of pure passivity, for the latter is not a possible experience ; and when we try to analyse the notion, the thing itself is presupposed by the process of analysis. I cannot see that because the concept activity implies mental con- struction, it is therefore not based upon what is real : this would only be a valid inference if such construction could be shown to involve what is fundamentally false. It will, I suppose, be agreed that the self, as we habitually use the term, is an 224 The ultimate Basis and ideal construction : if for that reason you say it is a fiction, then your very assertion cannot ultimately be valid. The pressure of practical life always corrects such vagaries of thought. And as regards activity, we cannot banish it from the real universe without inconsistency. It would no doubt be inconsistent to transfer the notion of activity from the region of experience to a system of dead elements ; for there is no inner connexion between personal experience and that which has no being for itself. The objection does not hold in the case of a system of monads conceived as centres of experience, though on a lower level than that of thinking subjects. In such a system action and passion express the nature of beings which are for themselves. For even passivity is not intelligible apart from reaction and self- maintenance. If, then, we have so far vindicated our right to speak of active spiritual substances, we must now ask, What is the ground of their interaction ? What makes it possible ? For the argument has been that the centres of experience have a being of their own : they are not abstract qualities, or mere appearances, which are really merged in a whole. How, then, do individuals come to be manifested as an interconnected system? As is well known, Leibniz refused to conceive the problem in this Meaning of Religion. 225 way. Following the lead of a logic according to which in every true proposition all predicates were analytically contained in the subject, he affirmed that each monad contained within itself the source or ground of all its changes. No monad interacts with another, but each ideally represents the uni- verse. And though Leibniz extends his principle of Sufficient Eeason in order to find a ground for the monads in God, the inference under these cir- cumstances lacks cogency, and it is difficult to see what essential office Deity fills in a universe so constituted. But the Leibnizian conception of the monad is an impossible one. How a simple sub- stance can evolve from itself the countless differences of experience we are not told. And the whole work of intersubjective intercourse in building up ex- perience must be interpreted, on this theory, in so artificial a way as to be quite unconvincing, not to say incredible. If it be agreed that we cannot eliminate the idea of interaction between the spiritual substances which are the basis of the material world as ex- perienced, we may now go on to ask, What are the implications of the process ? In this way we shall try to carry out our regressive movement towards the ultimate ground of things. It will be obvious that we are following the line laid down by Lotze, whose carefully reasoned statement has had an p 226 The ultimate Basis and important influence on subsequent thought. The view which commends itself to us may be made clearer by considering the adequacy of the solution offered by Lotze. In his { Metaphysics ' he examines the idea of a transeunt operation the passage of an influence from one independent real to another and finds it unintelligible and contradictory. 1 It will not be denied that the transference of some inexplic- able force or energy from one thing to another is a fiction of the mind. Every effort we make to think out what the action of one thing on another means, ends with the confession that the reals between which the operation takes place cannot be absolutely independent of each other to begin with. Therefore, argues Lotze, we must abandon the notion of in- dependent substances. Take the two substances A and B, the change of A into Aa is accompanied by a change of B into Bb. And this is only explic- able if the real being of both A and B is M, and if the change in M called a evokes as compensa- tion that modification of M we call b. What popular thought regards as an external process between A and B is reduced on examination to an immanent operation in M. As Lotze himself says, " The Pluralism with which our view of the universe began has to give place to a Monism." 2 It is thus 1 Metaphysics (Eng. trans,), bk. i. chap. vi. 2 Ibid., i. 165. Meaning of Religion. 227 difficult to avoid the conclusion that in the last resort the monads are virtually reduced to qualifica- tions of the one real Being. 1 Lotze certainly says that, if interaction is to be possible, all elements "must be regarded as parts of a single and real being." At the same time, his persistent endeavour is to maintain the uniqueness and individuality of everything that can be called a self. But if we are to hold to the latter principle, then the interac- tion between A and B must be something for both A and B. Yet the nerve of the foregoing argument is that the interaction takes place because A and B are parts of the same Being M, in which alone the process has meaning. It is conceivable that some one might urge that the difference exists within the unity, but that conceptual thinking cannot explain how it does so. But though this plea is not always to be made light of, in the present case it is not satisfactory. For the difficulty is due to the exclusive claim of the hypothetical M, put forward in explanation of the fact of interaction. If we are to believe a recent writer, 2 this impasse is the natural doom which overtakes realism in ^very form. Either all is unity, or else there are 1 Cp. the remark of Mr F. H. Bradley in his ' Appearance and Reality,' 1st edition, p. 118, "the attentive reader of Lotze must, I think, have found it hard to discover why individual selves with him are more than phenomenal adjectives." 2 Eoyce, The World and the Individual, vol. i. p. 112. 228 7"he ultimate Basis and " no linkages." Here the most wary voyager can steer no middle course between Scylla and Charyb- dis. The only choice is an all-inclusive unity or eternally isolated individuals. To this one might reply that it is no doubt possible so to state the case for realism, that there would seem to be no escape from one horn or the other of the dilemma which is here thrust before us. But many realists will fail to recognise their own likeness in the picture which Prof. Eoyce has drawn for them. In point of fact, few would seriously contend that individual reals, on whatever level of development, are eternally complete and self-sufficing. The self- sufficing individual in any form is a fiction : the connexion of individuals with one another shows that they all depend on a common ground, and this makes possible that lively interaction by which they evolve their distinctive character. The special point we have to consider is, whether what Prof. Koyce terms linkage , or as we put it, interaction, is not possible save on the assumption that the ground is a unity in which all individuality is really absorbed. For, as a consequence, this in its turn renders unintelligible the distinctive dif- ference which separates the experience of one self from that of another. To put the matter more definitely. We postulate individual reals or spiritual substances to avoid the inevitable con- Meaning of Religion. 229 tradiction of supposing that nature is only an ideal construction. The action and passion out of which experience grows must be viewed in terms of the inner life of these substances, otherwise we remain outside the region of individual experience altogether. And on the other hand, interaction between centres of experience would be impossible, if there were not some inner bond of connexion between them. A ground which is merely external does not explain anything. For then in postulating M to explain the interaction of A with B, you leave unexplained the interaction of both A and B with M. The conclusion appears unavoidable that the World -ground must in one aspect be an im- manent one, and is somehow present in all the individuals which it connects. But again, if in the interests of unity you merge the differences in an identity, you reduce them to an illusion, or at all events to an appearance ; and you leave yourself unable to give any valid reason why there should be even the semblance of individuality in the universe. This objection may be pertinently urged against a system like that of Spinoza, and against the views of Mr Bradley in our own day. An Absolute such as Mr Bradley presents to us may fulfil the office of a cid de sac into which intract- able matter is flung ; it certainly does not offer any consistent explanation of the evolution of 230 The ultimate Basis and experience. After all, we live and act sufficiently well in the world ; and if thought finds the simplest processes of experience riddled with contradictions, the presumption is that there is something wrong with the thought. Nor is it more than a tour de force to tell us that the shreds and tatters left by dialectic are, in a way we can never understand, woven into a harmony in the Absolute. In the interests of experience itself we must therefore refuse to follow this course. The problem which the facts set before us is this. Can we think of a ground which is at once immanent in all individual centres of experience, and at the same time does not reduce these centres to mere appearance? Is it possible to conceive a connecting activity which explains the inter- dependence of spiritual substances and still leaves to them a being of their own ? This condition can only be fulfilled by a ground which is both im- manent and transcendent, a ground which, while it unites individuals, has also a being for itself, and so always distinguishes itself from the elements it connects. And if there be evidence of such a type of connexion, we need not hesitate to refer to it in the solution of our problem, even though we cannot think out in detail its mode of operation. But at the same time I grant that a type of unity, illustrated in experience, cannot adequately describe Meaning of Religion. 231 that which is the ground of experience. With this proviso I go on to suggest that in the idea of soul there is a helpful notion for the purpose we have in hand. To some, perhaps, the conception will seem threadbare, calling to mind the superficial philosophy of Pope : " All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body nature is and God the soul." We shall, however, only be antiquated and super- ficial if we take up the idea blindly and use it without examining it to discern its true import. We have nothing to do here, it may be well to say, with any theories about the nature of soul in the narrower sense. For we are now using the word in its broader meaning, in its biological and not in its theological significance. What we are mainly con- cerned with is the kind of unity, the sort of inter- connexion disclosed in living things. In its simplest forms life involves a central activity, which is revealed in the process of assimilation and the capacity to react on stimulus. There is a sense in which all life - activity is purposive, for it means selection and subordination of elements in the fulfil- ment of function, and it implies the power to reject what is alien to the unity which it maintains. The question of consciously willed ends does not of course arise here : and if we term the central activity will, 232 The ultimate Basis and because it is purposive, we must bear in mind that we are dealing with something on a lower level than human volition. The fact remains that, from the humblest unicellular organism to the most complex and highly differentiated animal body, a central will or soul connects and dominates all the elements. If you assert there is no such principle, then you have the hopeless task of explaining how, by mechanical action and reaction, the highly special- ised organs of the body have become reciprocally means and end to one another, and subserve the interest of the whole. The attempt to solve the problem of organic growth in this way fails, because it has to assume what it ought to explain. In the simplest form of life an immanent activity is in- volved, and it is this central will which builds up the organism. This active principle brings all the elements into closest interaction, and yet allows to each organ its own peculiar function and meaning in the whole. It at once gives the parts their systematic arrangement, and operates as the inward bond between them. We cannot indeed make clear to ourselves in thought the precise way in which this interconnexion is realised : we are not able to lay bare the modus operandi of the inner activity. Certainly we do not do so by generalising and call- ing the whole process a category. Nevertheless, it is important to know that experience contains this Meaning of Religion. 233 type of unity, and we are justified in considering how far it may offer us suggestions in dealing with the problem we have before us. For we are seeking a principle which will connect the various individual centres of experience without at the same time sup- pressing their individuality. And in life the central will, which has a reality of its own, so correlates the changing elements on which it works that a rela- tively stable system emerges, in which each organ has an individual office and is likewise intimately linked to all the rest. In other words, the soul is not an expression simply for the interior harmony of the living being, but the formative ground which brings about the harmony. It is the dominant power which builds up the organism and manifests itself in it. Is it not possible, then, that the principle which obtains in the microcosm has its counterpart in the macrocosm ? May not a supreme Will be the ground of all interactions between spiritual substances ? May we not say that all centres of experience act and react on each other in uniform ways through an ever-present connecting agency, of which we see a reflexion in the organic world ? In suggesting this supreme activity we can at least say that such a mode of action is not purely hypothetical, but is really found within experience. It may be urged that we are here transferring by analogy a principle 234 The ultimate Basis ana which works within experience to the ground of experience as a whole. This is true. But no philos- ophy can condemn the use of analogy altogether if it is not to sink into scepticism, and the only question is one of justification in the particular case. Moreover, it is not disputed that the primal Will cannot be simply a magnified copy of the will in the physical organism. The represented world in space and time grows out of the interactions of individual substances, and we are here dealing with the ground of that interaction. Hence it is neces- sary to think of a fundamental Activity which is neither temporal nor spatial. It will be said that activity is inconceivable apart from time : and it may be admitted that our ideally constructed notion of activity seems to imply succession. On the other hand, there must be, as we tried to show, a reality behind the psychologically formed idea, and time, from its very nature, cannot constitute activity but presupposes it. Plainly the fundamental Will must be distinguished from the will which is a mental construction based on personal experience. For it cannot depend for its exercise on an external occa- sion, nor are we entitled to speak of it as an inter- mittent agency, now operative and now quiescent. We must not use language which would mean that the centres of experience are scattered over space and require a bridge to establish intercommunica- Meaning of Religion. 235 tion. One easily drops into the use of such figurative speech, and to some extent it may be unavoidable. Yet when the spatial element is discarded, we are justified in thinking of the funda- mental Will as present and operative in all monads without having to overcome an external separation of individuals. The purposive activity of the one ever-present Ground makes possible the conative synthesis by which each centre of experience develops its meaning, and it also is the condition of that systematic connexion of elements in virtue of which an individual can have a function in the whole. Kant spoke of thought through its cate- gories building up the fair fabric of nature out of a chaotic material somehow supplied to it. The con- ception is unworkable, for thought cannot impose its own laws upon an alien element. Nature could not become an ordered whole for thought if an invisible order did not lie behind it. The individual reals which nature presupposes form, as we believe, a spiritual system of which the active soul is an omnipresent Will. The characterless and unrelated "thing in itself" is a fiction which explains nothing. An ever-present, eternally operative Will, then, we conclude to be the ground of the external world as experienced. But this determination is largely formal. Whether this Will is the will of 236 The ultimate Basis and a self-conscious, personal, and ethical being, we do not know as yet. If there be justification for this view, it must be found in the inner or subjective development of experience. And to this aspect of the question we must now turn. In one sense all experience is subjective. It is in a subject : every thing which is individual or real has an inner life, and its qualities are repre- sented in it by its own states. But in the narrower sense that is subjective which not only is for itself but is also conscious of itself. The stages of de- velopment toward the latter are tolerably familiar. From the dim self-feeling which reveals itself in the instinctive assimilation of one element and the rejection of another, there is an advance to the level of sensation. When the inner development makes selection and association of sense impressions possible, we have the stage of perception. And when the level of intellection and conceptual think- ing is attained, the subject, now fully self-conscious, finds himself confronted by an objective world. From the lowest phase of " conative synthesis" to the most fully developed conceptual thinking, the objective world grows pari passu with the sub- jective : with increasing differentiation between the worlds there goes at the same time increasing con- nexion. Hence the world of conceptual thought is not to be treated as a secondary and less real Meaning of Religion. 237 world, which is somehow superimposed on a solid reality. Thinking is experience in its most de- veloped form, and is not the mere excrescence of will, its tool in the endless struggle with fact. Accordingly we may say that the world which takes form as the outcome of intersubjective thinking is the way in which reality reveals itself in us. 1 On the other hand, thought and reality are not simply to be identified. For thought, if the highest aspect of experience, is not the whole of it, and develops temporally out of experience which is not con- ceptual. And experience in its widest sense is a process which is not complete. The growth of mind through intersubjective intercourse shows the never-ceasing endeavour of thought to give more adequate and perfect expression to experience. The fact that the historic evolution of thought is an endeavour, by a constant process of criticism and reconstruction, to give a more perfect state- 1 Mr F. H. Bradley, laying stress on the negative and distinguish- ing element in thought to the disadvantage of its positive and con- necting aspect, finds it inherently inadequate to reality, and only saves himself from complete scepticism by his doctrine of degrees of reality. No one has more extravagantly depreciated thought than Nietzsche in his latest writings. Vid. Orestano, 'Le Idee Fonda- mentali di F. Nietzsche/ p. 305. " Parmenide ha detto : non si puo pensare ci6 che non esiste. Nietzsche 6 pervenuto all altra estrem- ita : ci6 che puo venir pensato dev'essere necessariamente una finzione." One is tempted to add that, if all thought be fiction, Nietzsche's view of thought is itself fiction. 238 The ultimate Basis and ment of reality is a warning against any thorough- going identification of the one with the other. A connexion in thought will represent a real con- nexion, if the material premises have been ade- quately stated as logical premises to begin with. 1 Strict proof, as the establishment of necessary con- nexion, is between given elements within experi- ence, and does not reach to the ground of all experience. Hence the well-known attempts to prove the existence of God by logical inference have no proper cogency. To begin with, it is plain that even were the reasoning valid, it would prove very much less than those who used it hoped to do. That which is commonly connoted by the word God contains much more than the so-called theistic proofs can yield in any case. There need be no spiritual content in the idea of an External Designer, a First Cause, or a most Keal Being. Again, the Cosmological and Teleological arguments assume that, from one element or aspect of ex- perience, you can pass by a necessity of thought to a reality which is the ground of all experience. Yet here the necessity of thought, supposing that it did exist, could not give as a conclusion a Being who was not finite and limited. In the 1 " If the essential conditions of error are absent, what is taken for real must be real." G. F. Stout, in ' Personal Idealism,' p. 35. Meaning of Religion. 239 Ontological proof, as Kant showed, the assumption common to the different arguments, that necessity of thought gives necessity of fact, is explicitly pre- sented. But the important point is, that the argu- ment becomes absolutely futile for the purpose on hand at the point where it has any semblance of validity. We contradict ourselves if we affirm that being does not exist, and that there is a sum-total of being it is meaningless to deny. But when we go on to qualify this indeterminate Being to fit it for the rdle of Deity, we have no guarantee that the reality must conform to our idea, and to speak of proof is absurd. The Ontological proof, in its scholastic form, has now become a matter of purely historical interest. It may be well, however, to refer to a sugges- tive if radical reconstruction of the argument by Pfleiderer. Things, so Pfleiderer puts it, conform to our ideas : the laws of nature are in harmony with the laws of mind. The being of mind is not identical with the being of nature, but the outer and inner worlds are in correspondence. And how is this ? The teleological inference is unavoidable ; they have been adapted to one another. This adaptation is due to God, the Supreme Keason, who is the ground both of nature and mind. But though we accepted this argument, it would not prove that the common ground of both worlds was 240 The ultimate Basis and a self-conscious Person : * it would require to be supplemented by the argument drawn from the practical reason, as Pfleiderer would admit. But the real difficulty is to suppose that the world of thought and the world of things are divided in the way suggested, so that the former is a kind of duplicate of the latter. If the theory we have already advanced is correct, there is no such separation. Experience is continuous through all its stages, and the laws of thought are only its fullest development. There is no reality which is not experience in some form. But others who cannot accept this view will still find transcendental realism unsatisfactory. And because it makes this assumption, that nature and mind are two diverse worlds which somehow correspond, Pfleiderer 7 s ver- sion of the Ontological argument, it seems to me, will not be generally convincing. You divide reality as 'with a hatchet/ and then require a bridge between the severed parts. Of the theistic proofs as a whole, it may be said that it is just in giving proofs that they fail. At this point it will be best to state the result to which our own course of thought has brought us. We found it necessary to postulate a ground 1 E. Von Hartmann, who also accepts the principles of transcen- dental realism, argues, as is well known, from the correspondence of thought and being only to an unconscious World-ground. Meaning of Religion. 241 for the interaction of spiritual substances. An active Soul or Will seemed the most satisfactory conception of a ground which would make possible the connexion of individual substances without suppressing their individuality. But though we postulate this we cannot turn the postulate into a proof, for we are not able to show that the ground on its part must issue or manifest itself in a world of individual realities. We have now to ask how far the developments of experience through self-conscious subjects will warrant us in giving further determination to the ground postulated. The cardinal fact in the subjective process of experience is the fact of self-consciousness itself. The whole realm of science, art, and religion has unfolded itself in man because he is an active, self-conscious being. The intellectual and spiritual creations which make up the world in which man lives and moves, are only possible for beings who reflect upon themselves, who both relate themselves to the object and distinguish themselves from it. The importance of the fact of self - consciousness has justified the stress which modern philosophy has laid upon it. Nor should the fact that the consciousness of self has been historically evolved lead us to minimise its significance, or to dethrone it from its central place in human experience. The Q 242 The ultimate Basis and unfolding of individuality in its lower forms is mediated, as we saw, by interaction between in- dividuals. And the same law obtains at the stage when individuality assumes a higher and more complex shape. The friction of suitable materials begets the spark. So the contact between selves, the endless give and take between members of a society of which language is the outcome, the sharpening effect of social intercourse upon the mind, have generated the light of self-knowledge. The phrase sometimes used, "the socialised self," at least reminds us how much the human ego depends for its contents on the social system in which it lives and moves. None the less an account of the historical genesis of self-conscious- ness does not solve the problem of its origin. Social conditions are the means which develop it, but they do not create it. If we rule the purely materialistic explanation out of court, we may still be told that self-con- sciousness is the product of unconscious will. The will creates the intelligence as its instrument, the means to its ends. Yet is this really possible ? If D an unconscious will becomes S a thinking will, and we exclude the supposition that D is potentially S, then the reason for the development must be sought in the factual experiences by which D is qualified. Let D then interact with A, B, and C : Meaning of Religion. 243 it will respond to these changes in its environment by becoming D S, D S', D S". The question is, How can 8, S', S", which represent the reactions of D, in turn so modify D that it becomes S, a self-conscious subject ? Stated thus, we can see that the supposi- tion involves a false abstraction. For the states symbolised as S, S', S" have no meaning in them- selves but only as expressions of D. And no repetition or variation of these states could modify D in any way that was not the utterance of its own character. We can only make intelligible to ourselves the transformation of D into S by sup- posing that it really represents the inner develop- ment of D, of which 8, S', S" may be the occasion but cannot be the cause. Stated generally, while self-consciousness can be conceived as the fullest development of an individual substance, it can never be consistently thought as superimposed upon it by conditions acting from without. If uncon- scious will in the process of experience becomes thinking will, then it must have possessed the character which could be quickened to this high issue. If you deny this, you must take up the untenable position, as it seems to us, that the outcome of development has no necessary relation to its beginning, and then you abandon any prin- ciple of explanation, and your assertion ceases to be more than an ex cathedra statement. It may 244 The ultimate Basis and be true, as we see in cases of degeneration, that the Aristotelian principle that what is vo-repov yeVeo-ei is TrpoTtpov