ormulated; but
they are none the less answerable to evidence from that context of
experience to which they refer. It is true that the believer's assurance
is not consciously rational, but it is none the less liable before the
court of reason. Cardinal Newman {221} fairly expressed the difference
between the method of religion and the method of science when he said
that "ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt," that "difficulty
and doubt are incommensurate." [3] Nevertheless, the difficulties are in
each case germane; and the fact that every article of faith has its
besetting doubt is proof that the thorough justification of faith
requires the settlement of theoretical difficulties.

No religion can survive the demonstration of its untruth; for salvation,
whether present or eternal, depends on processes actually operative in
the environment. Religion must reveal the undeniable situation and
prepare man for it. It must charge the unbeliever with being guilty of
folly, with deceiving himself through failing to see and take heed.
Every religious propaganda is a cry of warning, putting men on their
guard against invisible dangers; or a promise of succor, bringing glad
tidings of great joy. And its prophecy is empty and trivial if the
danger or the succor can be shown to be unreal. The one unfailing bias
in life is the bias for disillusionment, springing from the organic
instinct for that real environment to which, whether friendly or hostile,
it must adapt itself. Every man knows in his heart that he can not be
saved through being deceived. Illusions can not endure, and those who
lightly perpetrate them are fortunate {222} if they escape the resentment
and swift vengeance which overtook the prophets of Baal.

The grounds of religious truth will require prolonged consideration; but
before discussing them further let me first mention a test of religion
which belongs to the class of psychological and pragmatic tests to which
I have just alluded, but which has latterly assumed special prominence.
Though realizing that I use a somewhat disparaging term, I suggest that
we call this the "therapeutic test." It has been proved that the state
of piety possesses a direct curative value through its capacity to
exhilarate or pacify, according to the needs of a disordered mind. As a
potent form of suggestion, it lends itself to the uses of psychiatry; it
may be medicinally employed as a tonic, stimulant, or sedative.