and the possible loss of
identity in some new form of religion. There is no danger. No religion
can live in opposition to the evolution of the human spirit. It must be
sufficiently deep to meet the most exacting need of individual religious
experience, and it must be sufficiently broad and elastic to correspond
to the ever-changing phenomena of social evolution. Christianity has
this depth and this breadth. Two parallel lines of its development are
clearly discernible at the present time. One is the transubstantiation
of faith in social service; the other is a demand for individualized
experience of spiritual realities. It is becoming more and more
difficult to believe a thing simply because you are told you ought to
believe it, or because your father and grandfather believed it.
Authority in matters religious is being superseded by exploration. He
who feels with Swinburne that

Save his own soul he has no star,

and he for whom space is peopled with living souls mounting the ladder
to the throne of God, share the desire to experience the truth.
Mysticism is passing through strange phases of resurrection. Its modern
garb is made up of all the hues of the past, and, in addition, contains
some up-to-date threads of severely utilitarian composition. The number
of those who claim direct experience of spiritual verity as against mere
hearsay is greater than ever. The discovery of the soul is attracting
students of every description. The powers of suggestion, and the
creative possibilities of the subconscious mind, have opened up new
fields of religious experiment and adventure. The art of controlling the
mind, so as to make it immune against the depredations of evil thought,
or fear, or worry, is pursued by crowds of amateur psychologists who
delight in the happy results. They are learning to live in tune with the
infinite or cultivating optimism with complete success. To the objection
that they live in an artificial paradise they reply that thought is the
essence of things, and that they are but carrying into practice the
oft-repeated belief that we _are_ such stuff as dreams are made of.

"Religion," says Professor William James in _The Varieties of Religious
Experience_, "in short, is a monumental chapter in the history of human
egoism. The Gods believed in--whether by crude savages or by men
disciplined intellectually--agree with each other in recognizing a
personal call." How could it be otherwise? The solitarine