SCIENCE OF RELIGION. LECTURE I. CONCEPTION, AIM, AND METHOD OF THE SCIENCE It is now more than twenty-five years since my distinguished friend, Professor F. Max Müller, of Oxford, gave four lectures in the Royal Institution of London, which he published a few years later under the title, Introduction to the Science of Religion.' My task is a similar one, and yet different. The word "Introduction" has a very flexible meaning. Intro does not mean merely "up to," but across and within" the threshold. We must, however, at first be content merely to conduct the inquirer into the building, and there to leave him to the guidance of others or to his own resources. This was all that Professor Max Müller could do at that time. He had VOL. I. A 1 no alternative. As the foundation of this new science had only just been laid, he could but submit the plan of the building to his readers and hearers. How powerfully he afterwards himself contributed to the building up of our science I need hardly remind you; and of this his Gifford Lectures recently delivered in the University of Glasgow afford the last and most conclusive proof. We must cordially appreciate his. work, even where we sometimes differ from him in method and point of view. Twenty-five years ago, however, his 'Introduction of the Science of Religion' to his hearers and readers necessarily dealt with the preliminaries rather than with the results of the science, and was an apology for it more than an initiation into it. We are now farther advanced. The last twenty-five years have been specially fruitful for the scientific study of religion. That study has now secured a permanent place among the various sciences of the human mind. We do not now require to apologise for it by using the timid — or shall I say sceptical? - epithet "so-called," as the distinguished American scholar, the late W. Dwight Whitney, has done in an otherwise admirable article. Even Governments, which are not generally inclined to countenance innovation, and the less so if it threatens to burden their budgets, have recognised our science as a necessary branch of education. My own little Holland, generally accustomed to wait with patient deliberation until her bigger sisters have set the example, has in this case taken the lead and founded special chairs for the history and philosophy of religion. Republican France has behaved in princely fashion, and has founded not only a chair in the Collège de France, but also a well-organised "École d'Études religieuses." Others have followed these examples. The German universities did not at first regard the young aspirant with favour, but German scholars of repute soon discovered that what seemed an ugly duckling was really a swan, and offered it their powerful support. That the new studies at once aroused keen interest in Great Britain, and a little later in the United States of America, I need not remind you; and of this fact Lord Gifford's bequest affords splendid evidence. For by "natural theology, studied in a scientific method," he doubtless meant precisely what we are now accustomed to call the science of religion. This science, therefore, requires no further apology in appearing before you in full consciousness of its rights; nor need I apologise for attempting to make you better acquainted with its rudiments, its method, the results it has attained, its aim, and its fruits. I have a deep sense of the difficulties of my vast undertaking, which are increased by the fact that I address you in a language other than my own; but I have devoted the whole of my powers and the greater part of my life to these favourite studies of mine, and I am encouraged by the confidence which the honoured Senate of this university has reposed in me. I shall do my best to merit that confidence, and shall reckon on your indulgence. I would only further remark that I shall confine myself exclusively to scientific ground. And while I shall not conceal my own sincere convictions, I have too much respect for true piety in whatever form to wound any man's conscientious beliefs. First of all, it is necessary to state what we understand by science of religion, and what right we have to call it a science. We shall not begin, as is so often done, by formulating a preconceived ideal of religion; if we attempted to do so, we should move in a circle. What religion really is in its essence can only be ascertained as the result of our whole investigation. By religion we mean for the present nothing different from what is generally understood by that term-that is to say, the aggregate of all those phenomena which are invariably termed religious, in contradistinction to ethical, æsthetical, political, and others. I mean those manifestations of the human mind in words, deeds, customs, and institutions which testify to man's belief in the superhuman, and serve to bring him into relation with it. Our investigation will itself reveal the foundation of those phenomena which are generally called religious. If it is maintained that the superhuman falls beyond the range of the perceptible, and |