We may put it in another way. Too often in the past, religious

experience has been one-sided--one-or-other-sided instead of two-sided.

The intellectually-inclined, the theologians, frame more or less

adequate ideas of external reality, but fail in the majority of cases

to set their own house in order, to organize the inner reality to react

with the outer; they have theory without practice, are Dry-as-dusts.

On the other hand, the emotionally-minded who are gifted besides

with organizing and intuitive power, the mystics--they build up

their own souls into a desired and lovely edifice, in which too they

have constructed a spiritual machinery capable of viewing external

realities on a new plane, under a more highly synthesized aspect; but

they neglect the precise analysis of that outer reality, and so can

only speak in the barest symbols and metaphors, and cannot put their

hard-won knowledge into a form available for others. They have that

non-communicable skill which is that of the craftsman alone as opposed

to the craftsman who is also in some degree a scientist. We know good

mysticism from bad, as we know good art from bad--as definitely and

as personally. And we are sure that good mysticism, like good art, is

somehow of supreme, transcendent importance; but almost always it has

remained like a purely symbolic art, not having for others the value

which it should have or did have for the mystic himself, because not

properly enchained, as the French say, with stern and immutable fact.

And of the theologian we feel that he gives us the grammar, not the

spirit, that he does not help us toward the supremely important act of

experiencing, but only to understanding experience if we chance to have

had it.

One word on the problem of transcendence. The mystic will tell us that

transcendence is a hall-mark of religion at its highest. His mode of

experience transcends normal experience; things of everyday life become

surcharged with new, transcendent values; he has transcended from a

plane of disharmony to one of harmony. But the mystic is not alone in

this. Familiar examples are best examples: and the transcendence of

the lover’s experience is so familiar that all mankind is divided into

those who have it, those who long for it, and those who laugh at it.

But the great philosopher too must mediate between the transcendent and

mankind, and the true artist also, and the moralist worthy of the name.

What goes under this technical name of transcendence, therefore, is the

product of some special psychological mechanism which may be at work

in the most diverse spheres. It we wish to substitute one technical

phrase for another, we can say that it consists in the successful

attachment of what we have called absolute value to some human

activity, so as to make it for the time at least unitary, dominant, and

all-embracing. But psychologically speaking the genesis of “absolute

values” depends upon the generalizing of particular values; the raising

of them to the highest possible pitch; and the putting of them and

the rest of the mental organization into a relation in which they are

permanently or temporarily the dominating head and front, and are

connected with and gain strength and support from all the rest of the

mind.

The problem of transcendence, in other words, is not one of divine

inspiration, of wholly mysterious experience, but one special case of

the problem of sublimation; and as such it is to be investigated by

psychological science, to be understood, to be democratized, to be made

more available to all who wish for it.

The most ardent enemies of traditional religion have often professed

the most transcendental type of morality. Some men are pragmatic

and utilitarian in regard to Truth; by others she is worshipped as

fanatically as any goddess. So some men deliberately make _mariages

de convenance_; to others, the transcendence of their love is such

that they precipitate themselves into what can only be described as

_mariages d’inconvenance_.

I have dilated upon this at some length, because those whom we may

call the religious writers on religion so often lay such stress on this

question of transcendence and its special value and importance. But you

do not--in the long run at least--make a thing more important by giving

it an imposing title; you only give it a false exclusiveness.

Transcendence is the experimental side of what we have been describing

all along: it is the finding of unity in diversity, the synthesis

of discord in harmony and in especial the finding of something of

supreme value (and therefore dominant) which can be linked up with the

whole extent of our mental being. Transcendence in religion differs

from transcendence in art or love only in its objects. In love the

discrepancy between the object and the ideal values hung round it is

often so glaring as to provoke laughter from cynics, compassion from

the rest. In art, the operations by which an artist turns a collection

of mean and commonplace objects into a beautiful and single whole,

a poet invests failure and death with authentic tragedy, or drags

every-day to a seat in eternity, are just as transcendent as that by

which the mystic converts the relation between the warring passions

of his soul and the infinite catalogue of differences which he finds

around him into what he can only speak of as a divine communion,

all-satisfying in itself, all-important for the conduct of his life.

Science can here help religion by analysing and interpreting phenomena

such as transcendence, paring the false from the true, cutting down

false claims, substituting the hopefulness of natural causation for

the illogical vagaries of supernaturalism and incommunicability.

* * * * * * *

I may perhaps be allowed to close with a few more practical aspects of

the problem.

Many religious ideas and practices, as man’s thought clarified

itself, have proved to be unserviceable, and have been thrown on the

lumber-heap, or left only with the losers in the race. It is impossible

for any educated man nowadays to believe in the efficacy of magic,

or of animal sacrifice; to accept the first chapter of Genesis as

literally true; or to believe that God has human parts and passions.

But there was a time when all these could be, and were, believed.

The time is obviously coming when a great many other ideas must be cast

aside in favour of new ones. If you have followed me, you will agree

that it is impossible for me and those who think like me to believe in

God as a person, a ruler, to continue to speak of God as a spiritual

_Being_ in the ordinary way. Consequently, although the value of prayer

persists in so far as it is meditative and a self-purification of

the mind, yet its commonly accepted petitive value must fall to the

ground;[52] so must all idea of miracle and of direct inspiration;

so must all that is involved in the ordinary materialist ideas of

ritual, self-denial, and worship as merely propitiation or “acceptable

incense”; so must all the externally-projected parts of the ideas

concerning the ordaining of special priests; so must all notion of

our having a complete, peculiar, or absolute knowledge of God, or of

there being a divinely-appointed rule of conduct or a divinely-revealed

belief.

On such matters, most advanced thinkers have been long in general

agreement. But there is one very important point which, so far as I

know, has been very little touched upon--chiefly, I think, because such

radical thinkers have been for the most part destructive, and so have

not envisaged this particular side of the question.

I hope I have been able to convince you that the scientific manner of

thinking can lay the foundation for something constructive in religion:

this great problem, however, remains: what sort of form or organization

shall any such new-moulded religion take on itself?

We have just decided that fixed and rigid dogma is impossible, and that

completeness is out of the question. Yet humanity craves for certainty

and is not content to leave any factor out of the scheme of things.

To this we answer that it is here that real faith enters. We cannot

know the absolute, nor have we discovered a goal for our efforts. But

we have discovered a unity embracing all that we know, and a direction

starting at the first moment to which our reconstructive thought can

penetrate, continuing till to-day, and showing an acceleration of

speed on which we may raise our hopes for the future.

We do not know all. For instance, I have studiously avoided ever

mentioning the word _immortality_, since I believe that Science cannot

yet profitably discuss that question. But the discovery of unity in all

that has so far been studied gives us reasonable faith that its wings

will reach out to cover all that we shall still be enabled to learn,

while the unbroken continuity of evolutionary direction gives us the

same sort of right to believe that it will continue to-morrow and on

into time as we have to believe that apples will continue to fall to

the earth.

The study of evolution may give us a further help. We have seen how the

final steps of the highest forms of animals have been in the direction

of plasticity of organization: we see it in the rise of man from

mammals, in higher as against more primitive levels of human culture,

in great men as against ordinary men. There can be no doubt that its

acquisition constitutes a step in evolutionary progress. Plasticity is

needed in any new religion. And plasticity means tolerance, means the

reduction of fixity of ritual, of convention, of dogma, of clericalism.

It is clear that, as complexity increases, need will be felt for a

finer adjustment of satisfaction to mood, a more delicate adaptation of

religion to the individual. A few types of ceremony satisfied primitive

races: an elaborate system, fixed in essence, fluctuating in detail,

has grown up in modern Christianity. But the more complex the mind,

the less does it like to have to “wait till Sunday”--the less is it

satisfied with the solely biblical point of view, or the literary and

musical level of Hymns A. and M.

The less also is it satisfied with the mediation of a priest.

Priest (or Priest-King) is sole mediator in most savage tribes: his

mediation is enormously important in the Roman Catholic Church: less

so in Protestant Churches: until with the progressive raising of the

spiritual and cultural level, it is perhaps possible that he may become

an obstacle instead of a help. Mediators there must always be. They are

the great ones--prophets and poets, heroes, philosophers, musicians,

artists, and all who discover or interpret or display what for the

ordinary man is hidden or difficult or rare. They mediate between the

utmost attainable by man and man in the lump. As Hegel says of one

group of these mediators, the artists, it is the function of their

art to deliver to the domain of feeling and delight of vision all

that the mind may possess of essential and transcendent Being. But,

with the spread of invention and the change of civilization, their

mediations are becoming more and more readily accessible to all. I

can get, on the whole, more satisfactory mediation from three or four

feet of properly filled bookshelf than from a dozen priests. Milton

will give me doctrine if I want it, but stupendously: Wordsworth will

reveal nature: Shakespeare the hearts of men: Blake can put men into

a mystical, Shelley into an intellectual ecstasy, while Keats and a

dozen others can open universal doors of beauty. What is more, if I

have had the mediation of wise parents and good teachers, or to be so

fortunate as to be enthusiastic, I find that in many things I can be

my own mediator, in the same way as the Protestant found that he could

read his Bible and eat the holy bread and wine for himself as well or

better than the priest could do it for him.

Whatever we may say or like, it is an obvious fact that much of what

is essential in religious experience, which in a simpler society was

only attainable in prayer and sacrifice, communal ceremony or ritual

worship, is now attainable to an increasing degree through literature,

music, drama, art, and is, again, as a matter of fact, so attained by

an increasing number of people who do not profess a creed or belong

to a church. So that, as regards the personal, individual side of

religion, many of the functions of Churches will inevitably be better

performed through direct contact between the individual and the

mediator--philosopher, poet, artist, or whatever he be--who provides

the experience.

There remains public worship and community-religion. It is clear that

whereas a Church in the Middle Ages was not only Church but also Museum

of curiosities, Art-gallery and Theatre, and in large measure also took

the place of our press and public libraries, now it is none of these

things. There is now less reason for public worship, fewer functions

for it to perform. On the other hand a religion is essentially in one

aspect social, and not only does the unity of nature demand a unity of

religion, but such unity of religion would be of the highest importance

as a bond of civilization and a guarantee of the federalist as against

the solely nationalist ideal. Moreover, to many types of mind, and to

almost all men in certain circumstances, the partaking in a public

religious ceremony in common with others is of real importance. It is

safe to say, therefore, that these ceremonies will continue, however

much modified, and that for them a mediator or priest, even if but

temporarily acting as such, will be needed. The problem is largely

that of combining in public worship the religious effectiveness of the

simple, the hallowed, and the universally familiar--such as inheres in

many of the prayers, psalms, and hymns of the Church to-day--with the

spontaneity and immediacy which, for instance, are to be found at a

devotional meeting of the Society of Friends.

In any case, the new intellectual premisses once granted, the

limitations imposed on human mind once understood, the important thing

is to give a greater vigour and reality to religious experience itself,

whether personal and private or social and public. It is just here that

Science may help, where knowledge may be power. Atonement, conversion,

sense of grace, ecstasy, prayer, sacrifice--the meaning and value of

these and of other religious acts and experiences can be put on a

proper psychological basis, they can be shorn of excrescences, and

their practice take its place in normal spiritual development. That

is of the essence of any religion rooted in scientific ideas--that

comprehension should make practice easier and better worth while.

I am only too painfully aware of the omissions which such a cursory

treatment of the subject inevitably involves. I have given you, I know,

little but dry bones; but bones are the framework necessary before

impatient life can animate a new form. If Science can construct that

form, the emotions and hopes and energies of humanity will vivify and

clothe it. It is with the aid of such intellectual scaffolding that the

common mind of humanity in the future, inevitably rooted in scientific

conceptions as it will be, must try to raise that much-desired

building, a religion common to all.

In any case, I shall be more than content if I have been able to

persuade you first that the term God, just as much as the terms

Energy, say, or Justice, has a real meaning and scientifically-based

sense. Second, that the idea of God has and will continue to have an

important biological function in man as denoting an idea, organized

in a particular way, of the whole of the reality with which he is

in contact. Thirdly, that the physical and biological sciences, in

discovering the unity of matter and energy, and the direction operating

in cosmic evolution, have provided a real basis for what up till now

have been only theological speculations. Fourthly, that psychological

science, in revealing some of the mechanism of mind, is helping us to

appreciate the value of so-called mystical experience, is laying a

foundation for the proper spiritual training and development of human

mind, and shows us how the idea of God may be efficacious as a dominant

idea in the all-important process of sublimation. And finally that,

since the scientific mode of thought is of general and not merely local

or temporary validity, to build a religion on its basis is to make it

possible for that religion to acquire a stability, a universality, and

a practical value hitherto unattained.

We are yet at the very beginning of that task, but I cannot close

better than by reminding you of another biological fact of importance,

that from all analogy the human species is yet near the beginning of

its evolutionary career, and that man has before him vast tracts of

time to set against the vastness of his tasks.

A chapter in the history of Earth closed with the appearance of Man.

In man, the _Weltstoff_ had been made able to think and feel, to love

beauty and truth--the cosmos had generated soul. A new chapter then

began, a chapter in which we all are characters. Matter had flowered in

soul. Soul has now to mould matter.

That moulding of matter by spirit is, under one aspect, Science; under

another, Art; under still another, Religion. Let us be careful not to

allow the moulding forces to counteract each other when they might be

made to co-operate.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Arnold, M., ’73, ’75. “Literature and Dogma”; and “God and the

Bible.” London, 1873 and 1875.

Baudouin, C., ’20. “Suggestion and Auto-Suggestion.” London, 1920.

Bergson, H., ’11. “Creative Evolution.” London, 1911.

Boutroux, E., ’12. “Science and Religion in Contemporary

Philosophy.” London, 1912.

Brown, W., ’22. “Psychology and Psychotherapy.” London, 1922.

Buckland, ’37. “Geology and Mineralogy considered with reference

to Natural Theology.” London, 1837.

Crawley, ’02. “The Mystic Rose.” London, 1902.

Danysz, J., ’21. “La Genèse de l’Energie Psychique.” Paris, 1921.

Flaubert, G. “La Tentation de St. Antoine.”

Frazer, J. “The Golden Bough.” 3 vols.

Freud, S., ’13. “The Interpretation of Dreams.” London, 1913. ’14.

“Psychopathology of Everyday Life.” London, 1914.

Haldane, J. S., ’21. “Mechanism, Life, and Personality.” London,

1921.

Harrison, Jane, ’09. “The Influence of Darwin on the Study of

Religions.” In Seward, ’09, q. v.

Huxley, T. H. “Evolution and Ethics. Collected Essays.” Vol. 9.

London, 1906.

James, W., ’02. “Varieties of Religious Experience.” London, 1902.

---- ---- ’09. “A Pluralistic Universe.” London, 1909.

Jevons, ’10. “The Idea of God in Early Religions.” Cambridge,

1910.

Johnstone, J., ’21. “The Mechanism of Life.” London, 1921.

Jung, C. G., ’18 and ’20. “Psychology of the Unconscious.” London,

1918; “Analytical Psychology.” London, 1920.

Lloyd-Morgan, ’23. “Emergent Evolution.” London, 1923.

Lull, R. S., ’17. “Organic Evolution.” New York, 1917.

M’Dougall, W., ’16. “Social Psychology” (10th Ed.). London, 1916.

Nicoll, ’20. _In_ “Functional Nerve Disease” (Ed. H. Crichton

Miller). Oxford, 1920.

Prince, M., ’06. “The Dissociation of a Personality.” New York,

1906.

---- ---- ’16. “The Unconscious.” New York, 1916.

Reinach, S., ’09. “Orpheus; a General History of Religions.”

London, 1909.

Rivers, W. H., ’20. “Instinct and the Unconscious.” Cambridge,

1920.

Russell, Bertrand, ’17. “A Free Man’s Worship,” _in_ “Principles

of Social Reconstruction.” London, 1917.

Seward, A. C. (ed.), ’09. “Darwin and Modern Science.” Cambridge,

1909.

Thouless, ’23. “Introduction to the Psychology of Religion.”

Cambridge, 1923.

Trotter, W., ’19. “Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War” (2nd

Ed.). London, 1919.

Turner, A. C, ’16. _In_ “Concerning Prayer.” By the author of “Pro

Christo et Ecclesia” and Others. London, 1916.

Underhill, E., ’20. “Essentials of Mysticism.” London, 1920.

Webb, C. C. J., ’18. “God and Personality.” London, 1918.

Wells, H. G., ’17. “God the Invisible King.” London, 1917.

FOOTNOTES:

[44] W. James, ’09, p. 21.

[45] See Danysz, ’21.

[46] See Danysz, ’21.

[47] See Haldane, ’21; Thouless, ’23.

[48] A confusion of thought easily arises here. It may be absolutely

true that 2 and 2 make 4; we may be absolutely right in certain cases

to tell a lie; or may find an expression of absolute beauty in some one

lovely thing. But we may grow to find that same thing aesthetically

unsatisfying; we can imagine a state of society in which it would never

be right to lie; while our correct knowledge of elementary arithmetic

is something very partial and incomplete considered in relation to

mathematical truth as a whole.

[49] It is interesting to note that a scientific treatment of the

problem may force an author almost unwittingly to similar conclusions.

For instance, in Jevons’ book (’10) the term “God” hardly occurs at

all, whereas the phrase “the idea of God” is to be found on nearly

every page. If, as we are urging, God as efficient agent in the world

and as reality in contact with human beings _is_ outer world organized

as idea, the reason for such periphrasis at once appears.

[50] See Prince, ’06 and ’16; Freud, ’22; Jung, ’19; Rivers, ’20;

Brown, ’22.

[51] See Trotter, ’19.

[52] See Turner, ’16.

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Essays of a Biologist · 第 17 / 17 段