CHAPTER IV.

Science, as such, is a knowledge of physical facts. Religion, as such, is an apprehension of spiritual truths.

The work of the scientist is to separate facts from delusions, and then to arrange and classify his knowledge. The work of the religionist is to separate truth from error, to make it effectual in practice, and give it to the world.

In their essence, science and religion are neither enemies nor friends. They are not necessarily associates, but their respective domains are included in the domain of thought, and thought is an attribute of the ego. The ego in us, then, is in touch with both religion and science: with science, primarily, through this material body, which, surcharged with vital magnetism, moves at its will; and with religion through that inner conscious self which so avoids expression through matter, that it may remain contentedly under lock for more than half a lifetime, and which, even when released, may need a special impulse to induce it to express itself in words.

The religious nature in man is, in fact, so hidden that it seems at times impossible to draw it out in any manifestation whatever, which fact causes many to deny its existence altogether; and there is to-day a widely prevalent doctrine, world-wide I might say among scholars, that all the facts observable which could possibly be grouped under the head of religion may readily be distributed among mere physical phenomena on the one hand, and scientific or intellectual on the other.

The skepticism in regard to the verbal authority of the sacred writings is intimately associated with the same doctrine, as is shown by the way the errors and the truth of the Bible are made to seem one, and the whole is rejected as error.

It is taught, in effect, that all which goes by the name of religion is unworthy the serious attention of the thoughtful, that it had its origin in the barbarous stage of our development as a race, and ought to be laid aside as a garment outgrown. The days of this particular form of unbelief are numbered.

Why? Because it is to be demonstrated that religion is something more than moonlight vaporings of the credulous, something other than the simple faith of children; that religion is not only a spiritual reality, but that it has a body of its own.

In order that the meaning of this statement may not be mistaken, let it be remembered that some of the most powerful forms of matter, electricity, for example, are entirely invisible.

Therefore, when I say that religion has a body of its own, it is not necessary to go delving for anything. That body itself may be undiscoverable by any sense save feeling. Have you ever been in the presence of a man who could fairly be said to embody religion? Of those who manifest its spirit so pure and unselfish, there are comparatively few in the world, but of those who, to that spirit, add a full manly or womanly strength, the number is brought so low that multitudes of people may perhaps never have come in contact with any. Such as these bear about with them a consciousness of power so great as to utterly destroy every kind of fear save one, the fear of doing wrong. The name of Savonarola will occur to many of my readers.

It ought not to be necessary to add that I am using the word religion in a different sense from that attaching to it in such a phrase as the World's Parliament of Religions.

If I should say, There are many sciences, yet science is one, I should expect to be fairly well understood.

I would make the parallel declaration, There are many religions, but religion is one.