t the
superior power requires of him, he must thwart his inclinations. He
dreads punishment, if he neglects to do it. He invents methods by
which he can indulge his appetites, and finds a substitute by which he
can propitiate his invisible ruler or rulers. He offers sacrifices; he
institutes ceremonies and observances. This is the religion of the
body, the religion of fear. It is what we call superstition. In his
nobler moods he feels that this is but to evade the difficulty. He
perceives that the sacrifice required is the sacrifice of himself. It
is not the penalty for sin which he must fear, but the sin itself. He
must conquer his own lower nature. He must detach his heart from his
pleasures, and he must love good for its own sake, and because it is
his only real good; and this is spiritual religion or piety. Between
these two forms of worship of the unseen, the human race has swayed to
and fro from the first moment in which they learnt to discern between
good and evil. Superstition attracts, because it is indulgent to
immorality by providing means by which God can be pacified. But it
carries its antidote along with it, for it keeps alive the sense of
God's existence; and when it has produced its natural effects, when
the believer rests in his observances and lives practically as if
there was no God at all, the conscience again awakes. Sacrifices and
ceremonies become detested as idolatry, and religion becomes
conviction of sin, a fiery determination to fight with the whole soul
against appetite, vanity, self-seeking, and every mean propensity
which the most sensitive alarm can detect. The battle unhappily is
attended with many vicissitudes. The victory, though practically it
may be won, is never wholly won. The struggle brings with it every
variety of emotion, alternations of humility and confidence,
despondency and hope. The essence of it is always the same--the effort
of the higher nature to overcome the lower. The form of it varies from
period to period, according to the conditions of the time, the
temperament of different people, the conception of the character of
the Supreme Power, which the state of knowledge enables men to form.
It will be found even when the puzzled intellect can see no light in
Heaven at all, in the stern and silent fulfilment of moral duty. It
will appear as enthusiasm; it will appear as asceticism. It will
appear wherever there is courage to sacrifice personal enjoyment for a
cause believe