Morality as a Religion | Page 3

movement, for the establishment of ethical religion,
to re-discover to man's wondering eyes the imperishable beauty of a
religion allied to no transitory elements, wrapped up in no individual
philosophy, bounded by no limitations of time, place or race, but ever
the self-same immutable reality, though manifesting itself in most
diverse ways, the sense of the infinite in man, and the communion of
his spirit with that alone.
Speak to Him, thou, for He hears, and spirit with spirit can meet, Closer

is He than breathing, and nearer than hands or feet.
What has philosophy, creed or council to say to that high and ennobling
conception? Shall "articles" and "confessions" venture to intrude there
in the innermost sanctuary of man's spiritual being and dictate to him
what he shall hold or not hold of a reality about which he alone is
conscious? What has the conflict about the Hebrew cosmogony, of
Genesis, baptismal regeneration, or the validity of orders to do with
that serene peace in which religion alone can dwell? It were profanity
surely to intrude such strife of words in a sanctuary so sacred as that.
One of our saddest thoughts as we reflect on the "little systems," so
called, of the day, must be that they have so inconceivably belittled
religion, tearing away that veil of reverence which should ever enshrine
the Holy of Holies. The only atmosphere in which religion can really
live is one of intense reverence, and when we hear of revivals,
pilgrimages, elaborate ritualism (I am afraid Emerson describes it as
"peacock ritual"), we may safely doubt whether the soul of religion be
there. It is an excitement, a large advertisement for one or other of the
many ecclesiastical corporations of the age, but where is the lonely
communing with the Unseen, as revealed in the story of Jesus or the
Buddha? The reason why Jesus is so fascinating a memory to his
church disciples is that he is so wholly unlike them. So little is there
really spiritual and suggestive of the higher life in what is exclusively
ecclesiastical, that in their best moments men instinctively turn away
from it, and find inspiration and peace in quiet thoughts about the
Master, who said, "The Kingdom of God," that is the kingdom of
righteousness, or the ethical church, "cometh not with observation,"
and "The Kingdom of God is within you". The more inward religion is,
the less formalism it employs, the more ethical it becomes, the nearer it
approaches the ideal of the great Master. A pure and saintly inspiration,
an ennobling and yet subduing influence, a solemn stillness and
hushing of the senses that would contend for mastery, an odour blown
from "the everlasting hills," filling life with an indescribable fragrance;
such is religion as professed and taught by Jesus, and such is the ideal
of the Church of Emerson, builded on the purified emotions of the
human heart.

Perhaps I have now indicated what I mean by religion, "pure and
undefiled," though I know too well what truth lies hid in those words of
the "Over-soul," "Ineffable is the union of man and God in every act of
the soul". The spoken word does but suggest, and that faintly, what the
inner word of the soul expresses on matters so sublime. Still, so far as
the limitations of thought and speech permit, we have shown how
religion is the communion of man's spirit with the "Over-soul," the
baring of his heart before the immensities and eternities which
encompass him, the deep and beautiful soliloquy of the soul in the
silence of the Great Presence.
Draw, if thou canst, the mystic line Severing rightly His from thine,
Which is human, which Divine. --Conduct of Life.
Let us now pass on to inquire what are the relations between religion so
conceived and ethics or morality. In the first place, it must be laid down
as clearly as words will permit that religion and morality should always
be conceived as separate realities. Of course, there can be no such thing
as religion "pure and undefiled" without morality or right conduct;
nevertheless, the two words connote totally distinct activities of the
soul of man. We shall best explain our meaning by pointing to the
obvious fact that there have not been wanting men in all times who
have exhibited an almost ideal devotion to duty without betraying any
sympathy whatsoever with religious emotion such as has been
described. They have no sense of the infinite, as others have no sense of
colour, art or music, and in nowise feel the need of that transcendent
world wherein the object of religion is enshrined. I should say that the
elder Mill was such a man, and his son, John Stuart Mill, until the latter
years of his life, when