Let us take two instances-God, and life after death. We may know, or at least think, with some measure of correctness about God on these conditions: that to the principles of His nature there are analogues in our own personalities-if, for instance, God is essentially of a goodness and wisdom, however superior, yet not wholly unlike the goodness and wisdom of man at his best; and that in our perception of the material world or in our inner consciousness we experience effects of the nature of God so far as we conceive it. We may know or have right opinion about life after death: first, if and in so far as it is life in some way resembling this present life; and secondly, if we find in ourselves that which involves survival of death and subsequent awakening; and we may add that our ideas about it may be augmented by experiences which cannot easily be attributed to any other source than the conscious activity of those who have died.

The Meaning of Christianity

CHAPTER I

THE SPIRITUAL

IN the conscious life of man there are elements which he has in common with the lower animals, and there is also that which no animal has, or not to the same degree. The conscious life of animals may well be described as a succession of independent conative processes, of which some more, some less, reach their natural conclusion of satisfaction-in other words, a succession of independent impulses, appetites, wants, which are fulfilled in various degrees. They are independent as regards the consciousness of the animal, however closely interconnected in his whole vital economy. The various processes of hunger and eating, thirst and drinking, fatigue and sleeping, through which he passes in his life, each has its function in the maintenance and increase of life and health. But the animal does not know this; he eats because of the feeling of hunger, drinks because of the feeling of thirst, rests because of the feeling of fatigue, not because he knows that the tissues of his body need replenishing.

But the conscious life of man differs from that of animals in that he co-ordinates his actions in view of some purpose or in accordance with some principle. He remembers what he has done and the consequences, and uses his memory to help him to more certain and fuller satisfaction of his desires. He considers the

causes of success and failure in the past, and adapts his actions accordingly. He calculates, schemes, contrives. He is no longer bound to present perception, but, starting with his own experience, figures in his consciousness the distant and the future, the certain, the probable, the feasible, and the merely imaginary. Moreover, he acquires knowledge of the experiences of his fellows through visible and audible signs of ideas, and then thinks about the thoughts and feelings and desires of other men, and the objects that they have experienced or might experience. And he is no longer confined to his immediate feelings for his desires, but with suggestions given by these creates objects of desire in his imagination, extended, glorified pleasures and triumphs; and, furthermore, he adopts the objects of desire or of conceivable desire, and the satisfactions of others as ends of action for himself; and then he proceeds to plan and perform an interconnected series of acts which shall bring these objects within his reach or the reach of another.

None of the lower animals are like this, or only to a hardly noticeable degree. They behave according to present bodily impulse and in view of objects of present perception. Not but what they may have a kind of memory and imagination. They may even be said to think and contrive. But they are dependent on present perception and the fluctuating content of images due to past perception. They cannot use and control the ideas suggested by the past in the service of thought and purpose about a present, still less a future situation. Nor can they use their imagination to plan new and greater objects of desire. Nor have they any recognized system of signs for communication of ideas. To take the first point-no animal, so far as we know, waits to think how to do a thing or deal with a difficulty. He rushes straight at his object, and acquires habits of successful movement through experience of satisfaction and dissatisfaction in the

results of various attempts. In more technical language, the conscious life of the lower animals is perceptual, they have no free use of ideas. Man, however, has conceptual consciousness (as well as perceptual), and calls up and uses ideas in his imagination for the attainment of objects which he imagines.'

Further, this higher form of consciousness is not only applied to the more extensive and secure satisfaction of the impulses which man shares with the lower animals, but in its working and development it finds new objects of desire and satisfaction. He wishes to know and delights in learning about the nature of things. He becomes enthusiastic in the carrying out of far-reaching plans. He has a conscious love of persons, which takes the form of a desire for intellectual and moral union with his fellows.

It is not precisely in difference of the essential nature of conscious activity that man is superior to animals. For even animals manifest a germ of reason and volition and emotion. It is rather that in man this threefold psychical essence has wider scope owing to the faculty of calling up and constructing ideas at will from the basis of experience. Reason, volition, emotion-these constitute the threefold activity of the ego. Reason (or cognition) is the faculty of knowing and understanding reality; volition is the faculty of using this knowledge for the production of good; emotion is the attitude of soul towards a reality, and includes cognition and volition.

How then do morality and religion arise out of human nature as thus constituted? The unhindered pursuit, with imagination and intelligence, of the satisfactions of the animal nature produces painful and disastrous consequences. And so certain practices, though immediately attended with pleasure and satisfaction to the agent, are viewed with horror, as involving

I owe this psychology of animals largely to a course of lectures given by Prof. Stout, as Wilde Reader in Psychology, in Oxford.

evil to the agent or to the society to which he belongs. And the omission of certain natural acts and conduct is likewise condemned as productive of evil. Therewith it comes to be felt that man has a deeper and more permanent life which suffers harm from certain actions and courses of conduct and omissions that far outweighs the superficial good to be gained from them. Thus morality arises, being the conscious obligation to certain voluntary limitations and desirable actions in the life of man. But the main content of the activity is left

optional.

But man lives in a world in which there are great and powerful things and forces, on some of which his existence and welfare depend, and some of which may ruin or destroy him. Moreover, in his savage state he is liable to danger from wild beasts and falls victim to mysterious agencies of destruction-poison, plague, sickness. Since at this stage the notion of mechanical force is too abstract, whereas he derives the notion of conscious life from himself, he conceives these powers as living, conscious beings. Hence, since his life and prosperity depend on them, he desires to come to terms with them and gain their favour, which he attempts to do by propitiating them with gifts and carrying out what he imagines to be their wishes. In this we find what we may regard as the germinal principle of religion-namely, the tendency to conform oneself to the living power in Nature. Religion then appears as the necessary outcome of man's conceptual consciousness, together with the fact that he is surrounded by powers affecting his life and welfare, and to which he attributes mind and will.

The small and

But there is another consideration. temporary affairs of his life man has more or less in his own power to manage according to his wishes. But death or disaster may come suddenly upon him when he is not looking for them, and before very long he must die in any case. Moreover, all that