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.