might so easily be crushed by it; we need the help of every agency available, and if we had no helpers we should stand a poor chance. The loneliness of it when we leave the planet would be appalling; sometimes even here the loneliness is great.

What the "protecting atmosphere" for our disembodied souls may be, I know not. Some may liken the protection to the care of a man for a dog, of a woman for a child, of a far-seeing minister for a race of bewildered slaves; while others may dash aside the contemplation of all intermediate agencies, and feel themselves safe and enfolded in the protecting love of God Himself.

The region of true Religion and the region of a completer Science are one.

TH

CHAPTER III

RELIGION, SCIENCE AND MIRACLE

I. SCIENCE AND RELIGION

HERE was a time when religious people distrusted the increase of knowledge, and condemned the mental attitude which takes delight in its pursuit, being in dread lest part of the foundation of their faith should be undermined by a too ruthless and unqualified spirit of investigation.

There has been a time when men engaged in the quest of systematic knowledge had an idea that the results of their studies would be destructive not only of outlying accretions but of substantial portions of the edifice of religion which has been gradually erected by the prophets and saints of humanity.

Both these epochs will soon belong to history. Thoughtful men realise that truth is the important thing, and that to take refuge in any shelter less substantial than the truth is to render themselves liable to abject exposure when a storm comes on. Few are not aware that it is a sign of unbalanced judgment to conclude, on the strength of a few momentous discoveries, that the whole structure of religious belief, built up through the ages by the developing

human race from fundamental emotions and instincts and experiences, is unsubstantial and insecure.

The business of Science, including in that term, for present purposes, philosophy and the science of criticism, is with foundations; the business of Religion is with superstructure. Science has laboriously laid a solid foundation of great strength, and its votaries have rejoiced over it; though their joy must perforce be somewhat dumb and inexpressive until the more vocal apostles of art and literature and music are able to decorate it with their light and more winsome tracery: so for the present the structure of science strikes a stranger as severe and forbidding. In a neighbouring territory Religion occupies a splendid building—a gorgeously-decorated palace; concerning which, Science, not yet having discovered a satisfactory basis, is sometimes inclined to suspect that it is phantasmal and mainly supported on legend.

Without any controversy it may be admitted that the foundation and the superstructure, as at present known, are inadequately fitted together; and that there is, in consequence, an apparent dislocation. Men of science have exclaimed that all solid truth is in their keeping; adopting in that sense the words of the poet:

"To the solid ground

Of Nature trusts the mind which builds for aye."

On the other hand men of Religion snugly ensconced in their traditional eyrie, and objecting to the digging and the hammering below, have shud

dered as the artificial props and pillars by which they supposed it to be buttressed gave way one after another; and have doubted whether they could continue to enjoy peace in their exalted home if it turned out that part of it was suspended in air, without any perceptible foundation at all, like the phantom city in "Gareth and Lynette" whereof it could be said:

"the city is built

To music, therefore never built at all,
And therefore built for ever."

Remarks as to lack of solid foundation may be regarded as typical of the mild kind of sarcasm which people with superficial smattering of popular science sometimes try to pour upon religion. They think that to accuse a system of being devoid of solid foundation is equivalent to denying its stability. On the contrary, as Tennyson no doubt perceived, the absence of anything that may crumble or decay, or be shaken by an earthquake, is a safeguard rather than a danger. It is the absence of material foundation that makes the Earth itself, for instance, so secure: if it were based upon a pedestal, or otherwise solidly supported, we might be anxious about the stability and durability of the support. As it is, it floats securely in the emptiness of space.

Similarly the persistence of its diurnal spin is secured by the absence of anything to stop it: not by any maintaining mechanism.

To say that a system does not rest upon one special fact is not to impugn its stability. The body of

scientific truth rests on no solitary material fact or group of facts, but on a basis of harmony and consistency between facts: its support and ultimate sanction is of no material character. To conceive of Christianity as built upon an Empty Tomb, or any other plain physical or historical fact, is dangerous. To base it upon the primary facts of consciousness or upon direct spiritual experience, as Paul did, is safer. There are parts of the structure of Religion which may safely be underpinned by physical science: the theory of death and of continued personal existence is one of them; there are many others and there will be more. But there are and always will be vast religious regions for which that kind of scientific foundation would be an impertinence, though a scientific contribution is appropriate. Perhaps these may be summed up in some such phrase as "the relation of the soul to God."

Assertions are made concerning material facts in the name of religion; these science is bound to criticise. Testimony is borne to inner personal experience; on that physical science does well to be silent. Nevertheless many of us are impressed with the conviction that everything in the universe may become intelligible if we go the right way to work; and

1 It will be represented that I am here intending to cast doubt upon a fundamental tenet of the Church. That is not my intention. My contention here is merely that a great structure should not rest upon a point. So might a lawyer properly say: "To base a legal decision upon the position of a comma, or other punctuation, however undisputed its occurrence is dangerous; to base it upon the general sense of a document is safer."