elements in religion, which we may briefly call the Infinite within us and the Infinite above us, or, in religious language, God's sovereignty and man's affinity with God. Now, as we have seen, even where the one principle is unduly cultivated, the other is never wholly neglected, however much its development may lag behind; the believer seems afraid of bringing it forward to any extent lest he imperil the truth which he prizes above everything; and there comes a time when that truth so completely overshadows the other as almost to obliterate all trace of it. When theanthropism has reached the extreme verge of such onesidedness, the only choice left is between deification of the world and atheism. And when we see how, not only the ancient nature-gods, but the higher too, who, invested with all power, are either placed at their head or supersede them-how all these objects of adoration are gradually divested of all that makes them adorable, how they tremble before the superior power of human penitents, allow themselves to be insulted by sacred singers in order to show that they are exalted above impatience and passion, and yet are surpassed in selfabnegation by the Buddha who out of compassion gives himself as food to the tigress to enable her to feed her whelps-when we see all this, atheism would almost seem preferable. And, conversely, the system that not only lays special stress on the theocratic principle, but condemns all human effort and work, wisdom and

science, art and industry, as worthless and vain—nay, even as sinful-leaves the worshipper no alternative but to bow down as a slave or to cower like a dog. But when this extreme has been reached, a wholesome reaction is at hand. It seems, therefore, that apparently conflicting, yet not irreconcilable, religious rootideas or principles (and I allude to many others besides the two specified) must-before religious thought can combine them, or at least remove their disproportion -severally run a long course of independent development, and strain every effort to attain perfect expression. But of such special development nothing material is lost in the long-run; for its fruit is abiding, and in the end it benefits the general development of religion. Each stream thus running its own course yields its precious contribution to the development as a whole. Nor, when once the equipoise is established, shall we ever relapse into the old onesidedness, except perhaps for a short time, and then only to a limited extent. There may still be oscillations to the right or left, yet the equilibrium is always restored.

This will be further discussed in a subsequent lecture.

LECTURE VII.

DIRECTIONS OF DEVELOPMENT IN PARTICULAR RELIGIONS AND IN GROUPS OF KINDRED RELIGIONS.

IN last lecture we were engaged in considering what I call the directions of development as distinguished from its stages. Taking the two great families of religion as an illustration, I have endeavoured to show how each religion develops, not harmoniously and symmetrically, but one-sidedly, in conformity with the peculiar character of each family, and how the growth of religion is therefore not a simple but a very complex process, the product of a number of different tributary But as we are far from having exhausted the subject, which could not be adequately treated within our allotted time, we return to it again.

streams.

What holds true of the great families of religions applies also to the members of which they consist, both to particular religions and to groups of kindred religions. Let me illustrate this also by a few examples.

As each nation has its peculiar character, so too has each religion, one originally with the nation, but afterwards no longer quite coinciding with it. I know that I am entering a region where imagination often takes great liberties; and although science cannot advance a single step without its aid, the student who gives too free scope to it undoubtedly runs great risks. Hegel was one of the first to attempt to characterise the chief religions. But with all deference to the genius of the great philosopher, we cannot regard his efforts as a success. Thus he calls the Chinese religion that of measure, the Brahmanic that of fancy, and Buddhism that of "being within itself" ("in-sich-sein "). The first of these epithets is very vague, and I have never been quite clear as to its drift, while the last two might just as well be reversed. That he should call the Greek religion that of beauty was to be expected, and we may perhaps accept his description of the Persian as that of goodness or light, and of the Jewish as that of sublimity, although the last epithet applies as well or even better to the Egyptian. But what does he mean by calling the Egyptian religion that of enigma, unless he has confounded the Egyptian with the Theban sphinx? And surely the religion of the Syrians cannot fitly be called the religion of suffering. For though the myth and the cult of Tammuz - Adonis play a great part in Western Asia, it must not be forgotten that the

lamentations over his death are succeeded by shouts of exultation upon his resuscitation, and that the same myth is met with in Egypt under the name of Osiris. Eduard von Hartmann, who indeed had ampler data at his command than Hegel, goes more deeply into the subject, and his definitions are more accurate, although - as is pardonable in the German, but not in the philosopher - he has unduly flattered the Germanic religion. Religion owes æsthetic refinement to the Hellenes; the Romans have secularised it; but the Germans, according to Von Hartmann, have given it tragic ethical depth. This may have been done by the myth of Baldur, which, however, is perhaps not Germanic at all, but due to Christian influence; but neither the myth of Odhin nor that of Thor is specially tragic, nor is that of Freya or Loki ethical. But though Von Hartmann has been on the whole more successful, his short descriptions of the characteristics of the different religions are too much like labels pasted outside, and are not always strictly apposite.

I shall therefore not attempt to follow his example, and to substitute other short characteristic names for those proposed by these philosophers. I prefer to venture upon a short description of the peculiarities which distinguish some of the chief religions from the others. Take, for example, the Egyptian. Even on a superficial acquaintance with that form of religion, it must strike every one from the outset what a