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Religious experience and
scientific method
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RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE AND
SCIENTIFIC METHOD
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
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RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
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METHOD ( | Fee 27 1926
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Henry NELSON ‘WIEMAN, Pu.D.
Professor of Philosophy, Occidental College.
New Uork
‘THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1926
All Rights Reserved
Copyright, 1926,
By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
Set up and electrotyped.
Published February, 1926.
Printed in the United States of America by
THE FERRIS PRINTING COMPANY, NEW YORK.
TO A. M. W.
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PREFACE
The general reader who wants to see the practi-
cal results of our position and to avoid the more
difficult philosophical discussions should read par-
ticularly chapters II, IV, VIII, and IX. These
have more of what is called ‘human interest.”’
Chapters III, VII, X, XI are a little more rigorous.
The student and expert, on the other hand, who
desire to get the constructive body of the work and
test its intellectual accuracy should read particularly
chapters I, III, V, VI and XIII.
The chief purpose of this book is to show that
religious experience is experience of an object, how-
ever undefined, which is as truly external to the in-
dividual as is any tree or stone he may experience.
It signifies something which extends beyond that
space-time occupied by the individual undergoing
the experience.
I am very sure that religion must plant itself
firmly on the data of sense else it will become the
plaything of the sentimentalist and nothing more.
If the object of religious devotion is more pecu-
liarly “‘within”’ than are the objects of scientific in-
vestigation, if it is any more a creature of the hu-
man mind than are they, then it will be treated very
tenderly, as Santa Claus is treated, being an illusion
cherished by children, by the weak spirited and
5
6 PREFACE
other such who are unable to deal with things as
they are. But the strong and intellectually alert
will have nothing to do with it. Religion will
continue to lose, as it has already lost, intellectual
standing. And just as far as it loses intellectual
standing it will be given over to sentimental gush
and serve its chief purpose in providing a means
for self deception to those who want to play the
ostrich.
It would be presumptuous to call this work a
philosophy of religion, but it is a first step in that
direction. There is a reciprocal relation between
science and religion which I try to trace in parts
one and two, intending to show that neither can
maintain itself in adequate manner without the
ot er. In part three I endeavor to clear away from
the face of religion what I believe to be certain pres-
ent-day misinterpretations of it and to state my
own view of its function in human living.
Among teachers to whom I owe much, first men-
tion must be made of Professor Wm. Ernest Hock-
ing. How far I may have departed from his
teaching I do not know, but I do know that I have
taken heavily from him. For introduction to the
spirit of scientific method, and enthusiastic appre-
ciation of it, I owe most to Professor Ralph Bar-
ton Perry. The influence of the writings of Pro-
fessor John Dewey will be apparent throughout
the following pages. For most recent encourage-
ment in bringing the present work to publication
I want to thank Dean Shailer Mathews, Professor
John A. MacIntosh and Reverend Hugh Kerr. Of
PREFACE 7
course none of the persons mentioned can be held
responsible for the views here presented.
While for the most part the material here pub-
lished is new, portions of it have appeared in the
Journal of Religion, the Journal of Philosophy
and the International Journal of Ethics. Ac-
knowledgment is here made to the editors of these
journals for the use of this material.
In chapter VIII I have made quite extensive quo-
tations from the World Tomorrow and the Atlan-
tic Monthly. I want to thank these journals
for the permission they have given to borrow from
them; and especially to thank Mr. Paul Green for
the use of his story ‘“The Devil’s Instrument’ pub-
lished in the Atlantic. Chapter XII appeared in
the Journal of Religion, Vol. 5, Sept., 1925, under
the heading ‘‘Religion in Dewey’s Experience and
Nature.”
H. N. W.
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INTRODUCTION
Whatever else the word God may mean, it is a
term used to designate that Something upon which
human life is most dependent for its security, wel-
fare and increasing abundance. That there is such
a Something cannot be doubted. The mere fact
that human life happens, and continues to happen,
proves that this Something, however unknown,
does certainly exist.
Of course one can say that there are innumer-
able conditions which converge to sustain human
life, and that is doubtless the fact. But in that case
either one of two things is true. Either the uni-
verse is a single individual organic unity, in which
case it is the whole indivisible universe that has
brought forth and now sustains human life; or else
certain of these sustaining conditions are more criti-
cally, ultimately and constantly important for
human welfare than are others. According to the
first view God would be, or involve, the whole
universe; according to the second he would be those
most important conditions which, taken collec-
tively, constitute the Something which must have
supreme value for all human living. The word
God, taken with its very minimum meaning, is the
name for this Something of supreme value. God
may be much more than this, but he is certainly
this by definition. In this sense, with this minimum
9
10 INTRODUCTION
meaning, God cannot be denied. His existence is
absolutely certain. He is simply that which is
supremely significant in all the universe for human
living, however known or unknown he may be.
Of course this statement concerning God proves
nothing about his character, except that he is the
most beneficent object in the universe for human
beings. He is certainly the object of supreme value.
Nothing is implied by this definition concerning
personality in God; but neither is personality de-
nied. In fact, personality is by no means a clear
and simple term. But two things are made certain:
his existence and the supremacy of his value over all
others, if we measure value in terms of human need.
But such abstract reasoning concerning God ac-
complishes little save to clear the ground, remove
misunderstanding and prejudice and open the way
for the more vital problem.
We believe nothing is more important at the
present stage of human thought than to define God
in terms of concrete experience. Failure to do this
has led some of the finest scientific thinkers of our
time to regard religion as superstition and nothing
else. E. Rignano is typical of such thinkers and
such an attitude. After tracing the many attempts
that have been made to define and demonstrate
God and the immortality of the soul by means of
“metaphysical reasoning,’’ and finding all these
attempts futile, being nothing but “‘defense reac-
tions’’ by which men try to make themselves think
the world to be as they would like to have it, and
concealing the nonsense in all their intellectual con-
INTRODUCTION 11
structions by means of the vagueness and obscurity
of their thought, he goes on to say:
These mystical minds—which will always exist
—will always continue to try to realize and sys-
tematize their aspirations and their dreams in
transcendent constructions, ever new, ever differ-
ent, ever vain; pale reflections of the great systems
of the past, the last gleams of a great human illu-
sion that has vanished. And these metaphysical
speculations, old and new, will in their entirety
constitute a great epic handing down to posterity
the exploits of the tragic revolt, worthy of Pro-
metheus, which the infinitely small microcosm has
dared and will dare again to attempt against the
infinitely great macrocosm.?
He contrasts with this ‘‘metaphysical,’’ theo-
logical and ‘“‘mystical’’ reasoning the intellectual
work of the positivist and scientist who goes to
experience for the truth and whose thinking con-
sists altogether of experimentation; who discovers
the truth partly by actually carrying out experi-
ments on nature by physical manipulation, but
even more by combining in imagination innumer-
able physical experiments that can only be com-
bined in such great numbers by imagination and
thus be made to reveal new facts otherwise never
to be discovered. This classification, multiplica-
tion, and unique combination of experimental oper-
ations in thought by means of concepts is the great-
est achievement of the intellect, the only means by
which truth can be brought to light, and the only
1The Psychology of Reasoning, p. 261.
12 INTRODUCTION
way in which human aspirations can be rendered
effective in this world or wrought into the body of
existence.
In all these claims which Rignano makes for
scientific thought, we believe he is correct. When
he points out the error of those who turn away
from experience to find God by metaphysical spec-
ulation, we believe he is rendering religion a serv-
ice. Metaphysics in the sense of that reasoning
which adjures experience and the conclusions of
scientific thought, is futile, as Rignano says.
Furthermore, we agree with him in his condem-
nation of mysticism, if mysticism is used in the
sense in which he uses it. Perhaps his use of the
word is the only legitimate use; but we believe our
usage is justified. However, if it is not, our thought
must be tested by its actual content and not by the
fact that we have given an unconventional meaning
to the word.
To clarify our usage of mysticism and distin-
guish it from other meanings attached to it, let us
consider how Rignano applies the word. He uses
it in two slightly different senses.
In the first place he means by mysticism the rev-
erence or emotional glow which may attach itself
to certain words or phrases when these have lost
all intellectual significance. When a word or other
symbol has ceased to signify any fact of experience
whatsoever, and precisely because it does not sig-
nify anything which will contradict or render
foolish and unwarranted the enthusiasm which
attaches to it, as a mere word without intelligible
INTRODUCTION 13
meaning, it stirs the mystic to emotional raptures.
In other words, by mysticism Rignano means sen-
timentality. “Certain terms thus become in time
pure sounds, no longer evoking intellectual rep-
resentations, but only emotions; and not certain
particular emotions relating to a well-determined
object, but ‘general emotions,’ similar to those
aroused by a ‘series of musical notes in the minor
mode,’ ’”?
Now there is no question but that this kind of
“mysticism’’ does occur. There are people who
maintain such an attitude toward certain intellec-
tually meaningless symbols, and the value of the
symbol can be preserved for them only by keeping
it intellectually meaningless. If one wishes to call
this mysticism, of course he can. It is a legitimate
use of the word. But it is not the sense in which
we shall use the word.
There is a second sense in which Rignano uses
mysticism, closely allied to the first. It is the belief
that back of the world of sense there is some ‘‘nou-
menal reality’’ inaccessible to experience, but never-
theless existent. “‘....any act of mysticism does
just consist in admitting the existence of something
mysterious which is not capable either of coming
under the observation of any of our senses or of
being imagined by means of sensible elements com-
bined together in any fashion.’’
It is interesting to note that he accuses mathema-
ticians, many and prominent, of being mystic in
this sense. Such mysticism rises among mathema-
2 loc. cit. p. 256,
8 loc, cit. p. 185.
14 INTRODUCTION
ticians when they begin to use mathematical sym-
bols which refer to such infinities of complex
operations that they lose the connection between
these symbols and the empirical operations signi-
fied. Consequently, when they operate with the
symbols to produce results which are mathemati-
cally correct and yet seem to have no existence in
the world of experience because they have lost the
reference these symbols have to empirical opera-
tions, they think they are dealing with some tran-
scendental reality. To demonstrate the error of this
view Rignano very acutely traces the higher
branches of mathematics showing how they refer,
directly or indirectly, but always ultimately, to
the world of experience.*
Here again we have a kind of “‘mysticism’’ that
does certainly occur. There are many people who
feel that they are leaping into a transcendental
sphere beyond the reach of all experience when
they operate with symbols which, so far as they can
see, do not refer to anything in experience. We
agree with Rignano in claiming that when we deal
with such symbols either one of two things is true.
Either the symbols do refer to facts of experience
which we fail to discern, or else they refer to noth-
ing at all and hence are meaningless. In neither
case do they introduce us to the transcendental. Of
course a symbol may refer to experience in a very
indirect fashion, by referring to other symbols and
these to others and so on. But if the ultimate object
4 Our own Cassius Keyser would doubtless come under the head of such
mystics. See his Human Worth of Rigorous Thinking. Also Spaulding
with his New Rationalism.
INTRODUCTION 15
of reference be not some phase of experience, then
this mutual reference of symbols to one another
merely serves (if it serves any good at all) to de-
fine and distinguish the symbols from one another,
so that they can be used more effectively in desig-
nating some object of experience. But the only ob-
jects we can know are the objects of experience.
We trust that our use of the word mysticism
will not be confused with either of these meanings
which have so frequently been attached to it. By
mysticism we mean a certain way of experiencing
the world of empirical fact, and nothing more. It
is the sort of experience described by William James,
for instance, in his essay on ‘‘A Certain Blindness
in Human Beings,’’ quotations from which will be
found in chapter III following.
There are times when men, with a partial sus-
pension of thought processes, become aquiver with
the vast fullness of sensuous experience that rains
down upon them. This is the mystic state. It may
be brought on by symbols and in many other dif-
ferent ways. But it is not a thinking state: it is
merely a form of immediate experience. It cannot
yield knowledge until it is correctly interpreted.
Its true meaning must be brought to light by in-
tellectual operations which are not mystical. In the
mystic state one does not think, he does not cog-
nize, he is simply immediately aware—of what?
Of the fullness of some concrete experience. Since
mysticism is not a thinking state, the definition
and description of the religious object, God, can-
not be the work of mysticism, although mysticism
16 INTRODUCTION
may supply the datum through which intellect may
discover God.
NOTE: The reader who wishes to omit the more theorctical portions and
read only the parts of general interest should pass over chapter I and read
chapters II, IV, VIII and IX.
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER
i.
II.
III.
IV.
THE NATURE AND FUNCTION OF RELIGION
CONTENTS
se oe Tel woe See Sere ie. eos 6 Oe, 8 a) 'e) 2 8 el ee. ©
PART I
WHY RELIGION NEEDS SCIENCE
SCIENCE AND OUR KNOWLEDGE OF GOD.....
SCIENCE THE CORRECTIVE OF RELIGION.....-
THOUGHT AND WORSHIP
CHRISTIANITY AND LOVE
of aie w O10) ei eye) ay 61 Bie cel oi ne
PART II
WHY SCIENCE NEEDS RELIGION
THE TWO SIDES OF LIFE
SCIENTIFIC METHOD
AWARENESS AND SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERY.....
REBIRTH AND AUTO-SUGGESTION
CHRISTIANITY AND SCIENTIFIC MORALITY ...
Rg a ay OS lst [oh Ow. Be “Oye ee),
le 6 & ee @. 8,5) Beh) Cee) 6
PART II
RELIGION AND IDEALS
CHRISTIANITY AND PSYCHOLOGY
RELIGION AND REFLECTIVE THINKING
THE EMERGENCE OF RELIGION
17
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119
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Religious Experience and
Scientific Method
CHAPTER I
SCIENCE AND OUR KNOWLEDGE OF GOD
Two views have been held concerning the way
we know God. One has asserted that we must
know God just as we know any other object; that
there are no other powers or faculties of knowledge
except those by which we know ordinary objects;
and that we must know God as we know trees and
houses and men or else not know Him at all. The
other view has tried to show that knowledge of
God is a special kind of knowledge; that there is
a certain feeling, inner sense, eye of the soul, in-
stinct, or intuition, faith, spiritual organ, moral
will, or what not, which has God as its special
object; that trees, houses and men may be known
through interpretation of the data of sense that
God is discerned in this special and peculiar manner.
~ Now there are two senses in which one may refer
to feeling, intuition, faith, moral will, etc., as means
to knowing God. By these terms one may mean
merely to designate certain distinctive kinds of ex-
perience which provide the data that may lead to
the knowledge of God if correctly interpreted. If
21
22 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
that is all that is meant, then the assertion amounts
to the first of the two above mentioned views. If
that is what is meant, we know God as we know
any other object, for that is the manner of all
knowledge. But if faith, feeling, intuition, and
moral will are represented as giving us an immedi-
ate kind of knowledge in which there is no need
for the analysis and interpretation of immediate
experience by means of concepts, then the assertion
amounts to the second of the two above mentioned
views. Then the claim is that a certain kind of
immediate experience gives us knowledge without
the intervention of any further intellectual proc-
esses. |
This second view we hold to be false. We be-
lieve it erroneous, in the first place, because it
identifies knowledge with immediate experience.
Immediate experience never yields knowledge,
although it is one indispensable ingredient in
knowledge inasmuch as it provides the data from
which knowledge may be derived. We hold this
view wrong, furthermore, because it resorts to a
peculiar and mysterious faculty, as though every
special kind of object must have a special kind of
faculty for discerning it. “These mysterious facul-
ties of discernment have long since been regarded
as mythical by psychology and epistemology so far
as all ordinary cognition is concerned. To cling
still to such a view with respect to discernment of
God is to put the knowledge of God outside the
field of scientific knowledge, where it can be neither
examined or tested. Such a position is fatal to
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD fie,
religion. It means that knowledge of God will be
calmly ignored by all those who are interested in
scientific thought. As a matter of fact, we believe
it is precisely because this view has prevailed that
knowledge of God has been so widely ignored in
scientific circles. And by scientific circles we mean
scientifically inclined philosophers, and all who are
dominated by the scientific method, whether they
be professional scientists or not.
All knowledge must depend ultimately upon
science, for science is nothing else than the refined
process of knowing. Scientific method is simply
the method of knowing. We call it scientific only
because it has been deliberately developed for the
purpose of guarding against error. All knowledge
is scientific except in so far as it has not developed
a method for discriminating accurately between the
false and the true. Ordinary knowledge is dis-
tinguished from the scientific only because of its ©
vagueness and its undetected fancies and illusions.
The knowledge of God must be ultimately sub-
jected to scientific method. We say ultimately
rather than immediately because, as we shall see
later, science has not yet developed a method ade-
quate to deal with the more complex data of ex-
perience. Physics became a science long before
psychology because its data were so much more
simple. Sociology has scarcely yet attained the
status of a science because its data are so complex.
The datum of religious experience is so exceedingly
complex that no method has yet been devised which
is fit to treat it scientifically. But we are working
24 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
in that direction. In the meantime men can have
acquaintance with God without accurate knowl-
edge of Him, just as men could have acquaintance
with matter long before there was any science of
physics to give them scientific knowledge of it; just
as men had acquaintance with food long before
there was any scientific knowledge of the nature of
food. Our knowledge of matter and life and mind
is more or less scientific. Our knowledge of society
is becoming scientific. We do not yet have any
knowledge of God that can be called scientific.
But for centuries our knowledge of the object of
religious experience has been growing more scien-
tific.
But before we can consider adequately the rela-
tion between science and our knowledge of God we
must get as clear an idea as possible of the nature
of cognition.
* Jmmediate experience, we have said, does not
necessarily yield knowledge at all; much less does
it necessarily yield true knowledge. Our hand may
brush a table in the dark and yet we do not know
it. We may not interpret the experience at all.
We may not know that our hand has touched any-
thing, our mind being turned to other things. We
have had a genuine experience of the table, an ex-
perience, however, in which there is no cognition
or knowledge. The same, of course, applies to vis-
ual sense data or any other sensation or combina-
tion of sensations. The image of the table may fall
upon the retina of my eye and I be unaware of it
or interpret it wrongly, thinking it to be a shadow.
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 25
While immediate experience is not identical with
knowledge and does not necessarily yield knowl-
edge, yet our knowledge of the concrete external
world, including other minds, is derived from im-
mediate experience. We know an object when we
are able to designate certain sense qualities having a
certain order in time and space. When we experi-
ence one or more of these sense qualities in certain
temporal and spatial relations to other sense quali-
ties, we are able to infer that the object before us
is of a certain sort, a table or chair or what not.
We test this inference by exposing ourselves to fur-
ther sense qualities. If these further sense qualities
are of the sort that properly pertain to the inferred
object occurring in that order in space and time
which is proper to the object in question, we know
that our inference was correct. Our knowledge is
then fairly certain. All the elaborate tests of scien-
tific investigation depend ultimately upon this cor-
roboration of inference by means of sense data. Of
course the situation may be so familiar that we infer
instantly from a bit of given experience what the
object is, and do so with a high degree of certainty.
We want to make a distinction between knowl-
edge by acquaintance and knowledge by descrip-
tion, but not using these terms in exactly the same
sense as William James, who coined the phrases.
Knowledge by acquaintance, according to our usage,
is of that which has been experienced by some one,
or presumptively could be if the right kind of or-
ganism could be placed in the right situation.
Knowledge by description, on the other hand, is of
26 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
that which could not be experienced by any organ-
ism or mind whatsoever, because it does not refer
to any of the data of experience. Mathematical
points and lines are such objects of knowledge.
They do not belong to the realm of experience at
all, although they may be related to experience by
means of what Whitehead calls ‘‘extensive abstrac-
tion.” All geometrical, mathematical and purely
logical entities are outside the realm of experience.
Our knowledge of them consists of concepts which
refer to other concepts and not to any data of ex-
perience. All number is of this sort, number being
no object or group of objects which can be expe-
rienced, but being a “‘class of classes,’’ according to
Bertrand Russell.
Now in both these two kinds of knowledge,
that of acquaintance and that of description,
knowledge requires a whole system of concepts. An
isolated proposition does not yield knowledge any
more than an isolated datum of experience. But
the difference between the two is that in descrip-
tion the single concept refers to a system of concepts
and nothing more; while in knowledge by ac-
quaintance the system of concepts which are thus
brought into play serve to designate certain data
of experience. In accurate scientific knowledge this
system of concepts serves to define the order in
space-time in which certain data of experience must
occur in order to constitute a certain object. Scien-
tific knowledge consists in designating this order
of experience plus, generally, certain hypothetical
entities which are required to fill out the fragmen-
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 27
tary experience. But in purely descriptive knowl-
edge there are no such data of experience. In purely
descriptive knowledge there are no hypothetical
entities to fill out the ragged edges of experience,
because no experience enters into the object of such
knowledge. Such knowledge is simply the inter-
locking of a perfectly consistent system of concepts
without regard to any experience whatsoever. Any
perfectly consistent set of propositions which have
been built up without regard to any particular ex-
perience, would be knowledge by description. Some
would say that such consistency could not yield
knowledge of anything save of the necessary logical
requirements of thinking.
Now this distinction between these two kinds of
knowledge has a very direct bearing upon knowl-
edge of God. It raises one of the most important
questions that bear upon this matter. Is our knowl-
edge of God knowledge by acquaintance, or is it
purely descriptive? Is God an object that enters
into our immediate awareness, or is He only an
object of speculation, known only through the
logical consistency of propositions, which must be
the form of all accurate knowledge, but known
through a logical consistency which does not de-
fine any object entering our immediate awareness?
Is he an object of possible experience, or is He
purely a system of concepts? r0aches ex-
tinction in mysticism and may d/s17>22¢ altogether.
That mysticism is a state in which experience
attains richest concrete fullness of content with
minimum of meaning, is the view of it upheld by
the two foremost expounders of mysticism in the
United States, Professors Hocking and Leuba.
That these two writers should differ so radically
in their total evaluation of mysticism and yet
should agree perfectly on this one fundamental
issue, is striking confirmation of our thesis con-
cerning its nature as meaningless ex perience.
1 William Ernest Hocking, The Meaning of God in Human Experience,
and more recently an article on “Principles and Methods in the Philosophy
of Religion,” Revue de Metaphysique et de Morale, XXIX, 1922, 431-53,
James H. Leuba, The Psychology of Religious Mysticism, particularly p. 313.
32 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
It will be our endeavor to show the value of
this practice of mysticism which is worship and
which involves casting off all our old meanings.
Its value is (1) that it enables us at times to develop
radically new meanings; or (2) to come back to
the old meanings with new freshness and vigor;
(3) to free ourselves for a time from the binding
tension and constraint of established meanings im-
posed upon us; (4) to quicken our sense of the
concrete fullness of experience underlying our mean-
ings by dipping into that stream of total event to
which all our meanings must ultimately refer if
they are to be efficacious in controlling the condi-
tions of life.
To demonstrate the value of this mystic mean-
ingless experience we shall draw upon no other
than Professor Dewey himself, although he is not
ostensibly an expounder of mysticism. ‘There are
many forms and motives in mysticism; and what
Professor Dewey would condemn we also perhaps
would condemn. But there is a form and use of
mysticism which Professor Dewey may not con-
demn and which, in any case, we are very sure is of
the highest service in promoting the goods of life.
This form and use of mysticism reveals, we believe,
one of the high and indispensable functions of reli-
gion.
The second searchlight we want to borrow from
Professor Dewey to illuminate the nature and value
of religion is his concept of meaning. Meaning is
the mental instrument by which we control experi-
ence and magnify its value. Life mounts in value
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD D292
and security just in so far as we bring into opera-
tion the right meanings and use them rightly. The
whole problem of human life, in a nutshell, is just
this: How to magnify the values and security of
life. This problem finds its solution in meaning
providing meanings can be torn down, recon-
structed and progressively elaborated by the radical
method of mysticism. A set of radically new
meanings can arise only when old meanings are dis-
carded; and between this discarding of the old
meanings and the rise of the new, there is an inter-
vening state of consciousness which is relatively
meaningless. This is the state of mysticism. This
is the state of all profound worship. The bringing
on of this creative and regenerative process is one of
the supreme functions of religion.
The order of our procedure shall be, first, to
clarify the concept of meaningless experience; sec-
ond, do the same for the concept of meaning; and,
third, apply these concepts to the interpretation of
mysticism.
MEANINGLESS EXPERIENCE
Ordinarily human experience is not meaningless.
It may be questioned whether experience can ever
attain consciousness without some rudiments or ves-
tiges of meaning init. We believe it can, and that
this occurs much more widely than is ordinarily
thought; but whether or not that is granted, we
hope to show that meaning can be reduced to a
minimum without proportionate diminution of
consciousness.
326 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
Undergoing some excruciating pain, where the
mind is reduced to a blur of agony, is a case of
meaningless content of experience. The flood of
emotion that pours over one in response to music
is a meaningless experience providing one does not
attend to the music, think about it or discriminate
its several qualities, but simply yields to the emo-
tional state which some music is able to generate in
some people under proper conditions. Basking
stupidly in the sunshine is another instance. “The
enjoyment of a warm bath providing one does not
cognize the water nor anything else but simply
submits himself to the voluptuous experience of
that which is occurring then and there. Sensuous
enjoyment of good tasting food without any recog-
nition of what it is we are enjoying is a case in
puint. That expansive, beaming state of well-
being which some healthy human animals display
when they come away from a meal, seems to be of
this sort.
Of course one can well insist that an adequate
appreciation of music or food or any other object
requires a finely developed system of judgments by
which to discriminate and comprehend all the qual-
ities that enter into it. With that we would thor-
oughly agree. But we are not talking about what
is or what is not adequate appreciation. We are
simply trying to point to cases where concrete con-
tent of experience occurs with little or no meaning.
The difficulty of pointing out or calling to mind
any case of meaningless experience is that such ex-
periences leave no marks behind them. Only mean-
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 327
ings endure. Content without meaning passes like
a baby’s breath. Qualities that merely occur, but
are not discriminated and have no meaning for the
person who experiences them, cannot be kept in
mind. And they never recur; they pass beyond
recall, spurlos versunken. It may be that the in-
stances we have mentioned could be called to mind
only because they contained some rudiment or ves-
tige of meaning. But if we can trace content of
experience to the point where meaning fades to the
minimum, we have established all that is required
of us. We can catch experience at those moments
where all old meaning is just about to fade out
ompletely, or where new meaning is just coming
into existence.
There are certain abnormal states of mind where
consciousness can be very vivid and rich but with
scarcely any meaning. Epilepsy may assume this
form, and certain drugs produce this effect. Pro-
fessor Leuba has made a very thorough and finely
analytic study of many cases of this “‘mystic state.”’
He begins with the description of the effects of cer-
tain drugs such as mescal, hashish, stramonium,
alcohol, or of gases like ether and nitrous oxide.
He notes how some savages have used these drugs
to bring on that mystic state which was in their
view a kind of divine possession. Then he notes
other artificial methods of bringing on this mean-
ingless content of consciousness by rhythmic move-
ments carried to a frenzy of dancing, or again by
long fasting or self-tortures, or a combination of
these. By these methods primitive folk produce a
328 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
delirium of consciousness which is rich and vivid
but meaningless. The Yoga system of mental con-
centration is a much more refined method of pro-
ducing the same result. Most of these generally
end in the fading out of consciousness altogether,
but prior to the elimination of consciousness there
is a state where conscious content persists but mean-
ing has disappeared. “The great Christian mystics,
according to Professor Leuba, have simply carried
the same practice to a much higher level of refine-
ment and turned it to ethical ends but have not
changed the essential nature of the experience.
Before leaving this subject some explanation
should be made of the fact that most moderns, and
especially thinkers and philosophers, have so com-
monly ignored this sort of experience, sometimes
even denying that it ever occurs in the normal
human being, and generally failing quite com-
pletely to recognize the important function it has
in the promotion of more abundant life.
Certain philosophers in particular have been
most insistent in claiming that all experience must
be meaningful, that there is indeed nothing else in
the universe except meaning. That thinkers should
have this bias is easily understood. ‘They are pre-
occupied with meanings to the exclusion of all else,
precisely because they are thinkers. Add to this
natural bias the weight of successive generations of
thinkers who gradually shove their followers far-
ther and farther into the realm of meaning to the
ignoring of any other ingredient in experience.
Finally the student of philosophy must perforce
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD B29
immerse himself for years in the study of ponder-
ous and technical works dealing altogether with
abstract meanings which for the most part have no
apparent reference to the immediate events of space-
time. Considering all this it is no wonder philos-
ophers have been so commonly prone to swallow
up all experience in meaning.
But the ordinary man is often subject to the
same fallacy. We have already noted the difficulty
of recalling or referring to any experience bereft
of meaning. Meaningless experiences can be en-
joyed, but only meaningless ones can be used. The
ordinary man fixes his attention generally on that
which he can use. A further prejudice against
meaningless experience arises from the feeling that
it is not befitting the dignity of homo sapiens to fall
into that bovine stupidity where consciousness has
no meaning. For the sake of our natural conceit
and self-respect we will not admit that we ever
yield ourselves up to that enjoyment of the eating
situation where all discrimination and meaning
fades out into meaningless satisfaction. I admit the
premise that it is not nice to do this; but I do not
admit the second premise that humans are always
nice. It is not considered quite so disreputable to
yield one’s self to the purely effecto-motor state of
enjoying music in which floods of emotion without
meaning pour over one. But even in such cases
people are likely to claim that they contemplate
some profound unwordable truth or have great
insights revealed to them through the medium of
music. That such experiences may provide the
330 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
way to new insights and great truths, we do not
deny. We only assert at this point that such expe-
riences may be, and often are, quite meaningless
and shall further show that it is just this lack of
meaning in them which makes it possible for them
to serve, at times, as transitional stages toward the
development of new meanings.
To guard against another possible misunder-
standing, we must point out that we are not assert-
ing all music must be enjoyed without meaning.
There may be no content of experience whatsoever
which does not have its proper meaning if it were
known. But what we do claim is that music and
food and many other goods may be enjoyed by a
human without grasping any meaning in the expe-
rience; and that this is much more common than
self-complacent mortals ordinarily admit.
MEANING
Meaning, otherwise called the concept or judg-
ment, is the method by which we control the con-
tent of experience. Meaning first arises through a
relation that is established between some sound or
other gesture, arid some event. The sound or ges-
ture then becomes a symbol with a meaning. The
meaning is not related to the event. On the con-
trary the meaning is the relation of the gesture to
the event. We do not first have meanings that
must later be related, as Bradley would have us be-
lieve. The hopeless difficulties into which we fall
when we follow his lead in that direction is a piti-
ful spectacle of what trouble philosophy may cause
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD Ba
itself. This error of trying to relate meanings to
events or to other meanings, as though the meaning
was something else than precisely that relationship
itself, could never have arisen had not meanings
become divorced from events after the fashion we
shall shortly describe. But, as we have said, when
a sound or gesture becomes so related to an event
as to mean that event, it becomes a symbol and its
meaning or significance is precisely that relation to
that event.
But meanings point in two directions, toward
events and toward other meanings. When a ges-
ture such as sound, or movement, or mark, enters
into that relation to some other event by virtue of
which it has meaning, and some other gesture like-
Wise acquires meaning in the same way, these two
meanings may enter into a meaningful relation to
one another. Thus a meaning may mean not only
an event but also another meaning. In fact, these
two lines of development proceed side by side. As
a gesture refers to an event so also it refers to other
meaningful gestures. And its meaning with respect
to the event can become clear and definite only as
it comes to involve other meanings. In other
words, it requires a whole system of meanings ade-
quately to define an event. Meaning becomes more
meaningful just in so far as it specifies more accu-
rately and completely some event or class of events.
but this it can do only as it becomes elaborated into
other meanings. A meaning is like a vulture
which, as soon as it begins to hover about an object
draws other vultures to it.
BBY, RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
But right here a most amazing twist of affairs
often enters in. This relay race of one meaning
passing over into another and the other into still
another and so on, may become so interesting that
thinkers become absorbed in it to the exclusion of
all events whatsoever save those meager symbolic
sounds and marks which serve as vehicles of mean-
ing. This is that divorce between meanings and
events to which we referred above. Not only are
professional thinkers often caught in this whirl of
abstract meanings because of their love for mental
gymnastics, but ordinary men also may find their
well-worn meanings so sufficient for their imme-
diate needs as to ignore to the utmost any events
to which these meanings might refer. Thus we
often get on the high stilts of meaning and never
touch the ground of events. But the whole great
manifold of events or, what is the same thing, the
Total Event, is going on all the time just the same,
whether we have any sense of it or not. And this
manifold movement of time-space will sooner or
later break down our little structure of meanings
and destroy us and them if we do not constantly
reconstruct and renew our meanings in such a way
as to discriminate and correlate events.
Professor Dewey? illustrates meaning by the sig-
nificance of a policeman’s whistle at the street cor-
ner of congested traffic. His whistle means, first
of all, a certain specifiable behavior of the traffic.
But these specifications for traffic may be consid-
ered, and often are considered, quite apart from any
2 toc. cit., p. 196.
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 333
particular instance of traffic behavior. Further-
more, these specifications require and imply still
other specifications and regulations. Ultimately
they involve that whole system of specifications
which make up the law and government of the
country. ‘These specifications are not in themselves
physical, nor are they necessarily mental. Of
course they become mental when a thinker thinks
them. But they are constituents of the total uni-
verse even when no thinker happens to be thinking
them. They are methods by which we control cer-
tain instances of experience in so far as experience
is involved in the social behavior of that group
which is subject to these regulations. These speci-
fications render meaningful any particular experi-
ence that comes under their control. Any event
which occurs to me means much or little accord-
ing to the scope and fulness of the specifications
which control it.
Of course such specifications or meanings may
be of an entirely different order from that of the
policeman’s whistle. They may be the specifica-
tions of pure mathematics. The whole science of
mathematics is such a system of specifications, some
of which apply to actual events and some of which
seem to have no reference to any possible events
whatsoever.
Now these specifications, whether of mathematics
or of the governmental system, may become mat-
ters of such absorbing interest to the mathemati-
cian or the jurist that they lose sight of all events
to which the mathematical or legal system Origi-
ao4 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
nally referred. Not only so, but the man who is
neither mathematician nor jurist, who is not a
thinker at all, but a stupid routineer, may blindly
conform to the specifications of some mathematical
or legal system without regard for any events to
which they are applicable. The practical evils that
result are matters of common knowledge. The
‘‘legal mind” has become a by-word. ‘The mathe-
matical theorist whose formulas are flawless but
will ‘‘not work” is well known. But the so-called
practical evils are not the only ones, nor are they
necessarily the most important. [his process by
which meaning becomes divorced from events is
one in which meaning commits suicide and all the
spiritual values of meaning slowly die out. But
before we discuss this matter let us approach the
matter of meaning from another angle.
Meaning is the method by which we control ex-
perience. Now we control experience by means of
movements. Hence the first thing meaning must
do, if it is to serve effectively in controlling experi-
ence, is to specify the motions that enter into the
experience, 1.e., the space-time relations. The
events of experience are in space-time, hence the
meaning that controls them must indicate accu-
rately these space-time relations. Hence scientific
analysis of experience reduces very largely to such
a system of relations. The meaning of color, for
physics, is a system of vibrations, which are space-
time relations. Sound, heat, hardness, weight
fluidity, are reduced by physics to space-time rela-
tions. The difference between gold and silver,
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 335
between helium and uranium, are, in terms of
physics, due to difference in space-time relations.
Meaning, then, is largely reducible to these because
content of experience can be controlled only in
such terms.
But there is something more than this in our
meanings which are our system of judgments. In
order to control experience we must be able to dis-
criminate the different qualities that enter into it as
well as trace the space-time relations in which they
occur. In order thus to discriminate we must be
able to point out one element of a total situation
and distinguish it from the others. Thus judg-
ment or meaning must consist of a very elaborate
and delicate system of pointers. The word yellow,
for instance, is a pointer by which we distinguish
certain occurrences in our experience from other
occurrences. No two such occurrences are ever the
same; but they are all of such a nature that they
can be grouped together and so designated all to-
gether or singly as yellow. The reason why they
can be grouped together in this way is because the
pointer called yellow, when put into operation,
is so designed as to fall upon these particular occur-
rences and no others.
Of course the word yellow, taken merely as a
word, is not a pointer. There must be a system of
judgments back of it to give point to it. It could
be compared to the apex of a pyramid. The ex-
treme apex of a pyramid, when separated from the
pyramid, is not a point at all. It is a mere speck
floating about and indicating nothing. The pyra-
336 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
mid or judgments back of the word are what give
indicative value to it.
But pointers of such a nature must be constructed
and operated according to certain rules. Other-
wise they will not point. These rules for the con-
struction and operation of pointers constitute what
we call logic in the strict and narrow sense. Incon-
sistency in the system of judgments, for instance,
destroys the indicative value of the pointer. You
do not know what it points to because it seems to
point to two or more wholly different things; or
else it points to nothing at all because the judg-
ments do not constitute a system at all. The pyra-
mid is broken up into fragments with no apex or
with many different apexes.
Now we have noted how much a system of
judgments, constituting a pointer or system of
pointers, may engage our care and attention to such
a degree that we lose sight of that content of expe-
rience to which the system points. Mathematics
may evolve a system of meanings which have no
reference to any content of experience beyond
themselves, but are cultivated for the aesthetic en-
joyment of the ‘system itself. Of course it is an
excellent thing to have on hand such elaborate sys-
tems of meanings in case they may be found to be
applicable to the control of events at some future
time, even though they seem wholly inapplicable
at the present time. Such development of useless
meanings that have later been found useful, is an
old story in science. We are only pointing to the
way in which a system of meanings may, and par-
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD i bo i
ticularly in philosophy frequently do, become con-
tent of aesthetic enjoyment pure and simple and
cease to function, as meanings properly should, to
control the rest of life. When meanings do this,
they cease to be meanings in the fullest sense; they
become content rather than meaning. That mean-
ing should cease to be meaning may seem to be par-
adoxical. But if we follow closely our definitions
I think the paradox disappears. Meaning is that
which refers, on the one hand, to certain events,
and on the other, to other meanings. When it fails
to do either of these it becomes crippled as mean-
ing; it becomes incomplete as meaning. When it
ceases to have this dual reference, it loses some of
the values of meaning.
When meanings turn back upon themselves and
become a closed system referring to nothing on be-
yond themselves we have what Plato and Aristotle
seemed to think was the noblest, the most real,
phase of the universe. Many think this false esti-
mate was the greatest weakness of Greek thought.
Certainly the inheritance of this bias down through
all ages of thought since then has been a great incu-
bus. According to Aristotle, God spent all his
blissful time engaged in such purely aesthetic and
meaningless operations of the mind—meaningless
in the sense that the judgments indicated nothing
in the field of events that occur in space-time and
had no application there, hence could not be used
to control experience or magnify and secure the
common goods of living. Such view of truth as
a closed system of concepts referring to nothing
338 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
beyond itself is probably the reason the Greeks
could so easily identify truth and beauty, for such
a system is certainly an aesthetic object.
There has been a great deal of philosophic
thinking that has come to such an impasse. It has
lost all bearing on events of space-time. Philoso-
phers who develop such systems naturally are prone
to deny any distinction between content of experi-
ence and meaning.
‘There are, then, two ways in which content of
experience may become meaningless. One is that
events of experience should occur prior to the devel-
opment of any relevant system of judgments. The
other way in which content of experience may be-
come meaningless is through the development of
a closed system of judgments of such nature that
they do not control or point to anything beyond
themselves. Such a system has no meaning or sig-
nificance because significance is the function of
pointing or signifying and such a system does not
do this, except as between its own constituent mem-
bers. Of course systems of judgment are rarely
closed. Even when they are developed in such a
way as to lose their function of signifying and con-
trolling events, they may still point on to further
meanings. Such a system is not altogether mean-
ingless, but it has lost that original function of
meaning which consists in controlling events. It
is neither true nor false so far as events are con-
cerned, because it does not apply to these. It has
lost at least a part of its capacity to render life more
abundant.
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:
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 339
It is plain that a great transformation occurs in
life, and in the universe with which life deals, as
soon as meaning begins to engage attention and de-
termine conduct, providing meaning maintains its
dual reference to events and to other meanings.
When meaning of this sort flings its rainbow over
the earth, spiritual life begins. It is through the de-
velopment of symbolized meaning that science, art,
and morality can come into existence. It is through
such meaning that sex becomes love, the biological
adjustments of maternal care become affection, the
herd becomes the state, signaling becomes discus-
sion, food-getting becomes industrial organization,
etc. It is through such meaning that states of con-
sciousness can become indicative of a wide complex
system of behavior and experience which far tran-
scend the time and place of their occurrence.
The deepest drive of human life is to render it-
self more abundant. To become more abundant
means to have access to wider ranges of experience
for use and enjoyment. “The one supreme and in-
dispensable means to this increase of life is meaning.
But meaning may fail, and so life may fail, in either
of two ways, apart from the failure due to false
meaning. Meaning may fail to promote life
through the loss of all meaning whatsoever, or it
may fail by the development of meanings that no
longer apply to the events of space-time. In the
one case meaning dies, leaving event a widow; in
the other case meaning becomes divorced, leaving
event a divorcee. ‘The one is the evil of hyper-
sensuality; the other the evil of hyper-rationality,
340 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
Of these two dangers to which life is constantly
subject, one the occurrence of events which have
lost their meaning or never acquired any, the other
the operation of meanings divorced from events,
we believe the latter is by all odds the greater at
our present stage of civilization. Of course the
two evils often go together. But as civilization
develops and becomes more complex this danger
seems always to increase. The complexities of
meaning which control our lives become so great,
and absorb so much of our attention, that we are
in danger of ignoring the concrete vivid fulness of
qualities that occur in experience. One result of
this is that when these qualities of space-time
change beyond a certain limit, as they always are
changing, we will fail to note that our system of
meanings no longer applies and hence no longer
serves adequately to control and direct our lives.
Outworn laws, obsolete institutions and methods,
are constant reminders of this danger. When mal-
adjustment goes too far, disaster ensues. But even
when this disaster does not occur, when the mean-
ings serve very well to keep us safe in the midst of
a tumultuous and dangerous universe, still our lives
are pitifully impoverished if they become wholly
subject to meanings which do not illuminate for us
the qualities of space-time that occur in our experi-
ence. When the meanings which regulate our lives
do not make us more vividly and widely aware of
hands and smiles and glancing eyes and wind and
cloud and dust and flower, our meanings are not
properly functioning.
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 34)
One of the great values of mysticism, as we shall
see, is that it enables us to escape from such a hard
outer shell of meaning. “The mystic experience is
a meaningless, conscious event. In mysticism we
discard all our old meanings and consciously sub-
merge ourselves in the total event of experience.
Out of such an experience we may emerge in a men-
tal state which develops new meanings or modifies
and reinterprets the old meanings and readapts
them to the events of space-time. ‘This brings us
immediately to the subject of mysticism.
MYSTICISM
We have hinted that mysticism and radical orig-
inality may be closely allied. Mysticism does not
necessarily lead to originality, any more than eating
food necessarily leads to renewed strength and en-
ergy. Often just the contrary occurs; the mystic
may of all people be least original. But the mystic
experience is one which makes originality possible.
Here again we get help from Professor Dewey.
Professor Dewey notes two kinds of originality.
One consists in organizing and reorganizing estab-
lished meanings in such a way as to bring forth
new meanings. But the other is far more difficult,
more rare, and far more fruitful in its possibilities
of enriching the meaning of life. This other
method is that of initiating new methods of view-
ing and dealing with the raw materials of experi-
ence. The first type of originality consisted in
building on to the old meanings. The second type
consists in going behind the old meanings and con-
342 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
structing new meanings with respect to the event
of immediate experience. In this latter type the
old meanings are resolved into something different,
not merely carried on to their further implications.
Following is the way Dewey himself states the
contrast:
There is a difference in kind between the
thought which manipulates received objects and
essences to derive new ones from their relations
and implications, and the thought which gener-
ates a new method of observing and classifying
them. It is like the difference between readjusting
the parts of a wagon to make it more efficient, and
the invention of the steam locomotive. One is
formal and additive; the other is qualitative and
transformative.®
Then he goes on to describe the mental state in
which this radical sort of originality occurs:
When an old essence or meaning is in process of
dissolution and a new one has not taken shape
even as a hypothetical scheme, the intervening ex-
istence is too fluid and formless for publication
even to one’s self. Its very existence is ceaseless
transformaticn. Limits from which, and to
which, are objective, generic, stateable; not so that
which occurs between these limits. This process
of flux and ineffability is intrinsic to any thought
which is subjective and private. It marks ‘“‘con-
sciousness’’ as bare event.‘
Now this “‘consciousness as bare event” is pre-
cisely that form assumed by immediate experience
8 Joc. cit, p. 222.
4 loc. ctt., p. 221,
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD B43
when there is no meaning in it, or when meaning
is at the minimum. It is experience caught in that
intervening period when old meanings have faded
out and new meanings have not been born. It is
experience prior to the discovery of meaning. It
is experience which we feel but do not think, al-
though in the case mentioned one is struggling to
think. But he is struggling to think in some new
way, not in the old way. When one goes directly
to consciousness as bare event and struggles to de-
velop meaning out of it, one has the experience
described by Professor Dewey.
Now this experience, we claim, is identical with
religious mysticism at its best. It reveals, further-
more, the vital indispensable function in human
living which religion has to play. It is the regen-
erative, recreative function. This experience which
Dewey describes, which manifestly is an experience
he himself has undergone, for his originality is of
this radical sort, this experience which is conscious-
ness as-bare event struggling with unborn meanings,
this is the mystical experience par excellence. The
mystic at his best is the midwife struggling with
immediate experience to bring new meanings to
birth.
It is true that this state of consciousness as bare
event may be, and often has been, cultivated by the
mystics for its own sake and not for the sake of the
unborn meanings in it. They have luxuriated in
the experience without any attempt to bring forth
new meanings. But this misuse of mysticism does
not militate against the proper use and value of it
344 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
any more than the misuse of gustatory experience
condemns eating.
This state of consciousness described by Profes-
sor Dewey is by no means to be identified with that
of the lower animals or the primitive savage, even
though it be an experience bereft of meanings. We
have no reason to think that the consciousness of
animal and savage consists of any awareness of such
depth and fullness of immediate data as enters into
the “‘fluid and formless’ flux of the radically origi-
nal thinker during that intervening period after the
old meanings have faded out and before the new
meanings have emerged. On the contrary we have
every reason to think that the primitive and the
animal have the most impoverished content of con-
sciousness. Experience can enter consciousness
with any large fullness only as it is illumined by
meanings. But meanings, when they attain any
high degree of systematic completion and fixity, do
not illuminate, but rather veil, the data of imme-
diate experience. It is when meanings are being
born or undergoing reconstruction that they
quicken to the maximum the consciousness of con-
crete experience. In that “‘process of dissolution’’
described by Professor Dewey, it is the old mean-
ings just fading out, and the new meanings just
being born, that make consciousness so rich and
fluid in content. It is because experience, while
bereft of any developed meaning, is pregnant with
meaning, that its depth and richness can engage
attention. This plainly is not the experience of
the lower animals and the primitive savage.
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 345
It is the saving function of religion in human
life to foster this mystic consciousness which is a
condition of radical originality. Worship at its
best is precisely this. It is the great regenerator,
renewer, and reconstructor of human life because
it fosters that experience which provides for the
extreme reconstruction of meanings. It revitalizes
old meanings with new insight, brings on ‘‘conver-
sion,’ and once in a while it lifts human history
bodily into new channels, as shown in those periods
when great religions have been born.
At the greatest turning points in history we find
a mystic. Whether Jesus or Paul or both be con-
sidered founders of Christianity, we have in Chris-
tianity one of the most tremendous original histor-
ical achievements of history issuing forth from the
mystic. Of course all the ingredients that enter
into Christianity may be traced back to earlier
sources. ‘That is true of every historical phenome-
non. But in the sense that any historic achieve-
ment was ever original, Christianity was. So also
with other turning points in history. Buddha,
Mahomet, St. Francis of Assisi, each broke into
long stretches of uniform history with a trans-
forming originality.
Of course many a man may have access to this
experience of the mystic and not have the construc-
tive intellectual powers to develop new meanings
except in a very vague and rather futile way. But
even these vague and inchoate meanings have some
suggestive value. And when a keen intellect is
also somewhat of a mystic, we have the source of
346 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
the most valuable kind of originality, such as
Dewey himself exemplifies.
That mysticism should issue in radical original-
ity has its ready psychological explanation. In the
mystic experience one becomes freed of all his old
established meanings; he is lifted out of the ruts
of all his ordinary thinking; he is shaken loose
from all his mental habits; his mental system is
melted down into a fluid state; he becomes filled
with a throng of free, uncontrolled impulses so nu-
merous and diverse that they hold one another in
abeyance, producing a quivering mass of sensitivity
to the total undiscriminated situation. When his
mind recrystallizes out of this state it is quite likely
to assume a different form from what it had before
the experience occurred. The reflective thinker
approximates this mystic deliquescence of meanings
in his endeavor to deliver himself from all bias of
prejudice and habit and give free play to every im-
pulse in order to view the problem from every
angle. However the two may differ in the motives
that lead them to this state of mental deliquescence,
the thinker and the mystic at this extreme point do
truly enter into the same general type of experience.
And what is more, they do not always differ so
greatly in motive. ‘There are all sorts of mystics,
but the best of them, and most of them in their
best periods, have entered the mystic state not
merely to luxuriate in the deliverance from all con-
straint of habit, and the free play of impulse, and
the social esteem which came to them because of the
supposed divine visitation involved in this experi-
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 347
ence, and other such considerations, but they en-
tered it in their struggle to solve problems. They
have almost all been individuals who were strug-
gling with the most serious difficulties of adjust-
ment and undergoing most severe conflict of im-
pulses. It was their effort to find a more satisfac-
tory way of life and so solve the ultimate problem
of all human living that gave rise to this state.
They were searching to find the solution of a prob-
lem and the greatest of them, as well as many who
have attained no fame, ultimately found the object
of their search, namely, a unified, harmonious and
effective way of living.
The mystic considers his experience to be a form
of worship and communion with God. This also
is not so remote from the reflective thinker as some
would believe. The reason it seems so remote to
many is because the kind of reflective thinking we
are here considering, which leads to an experience
approximating that of the mystic, is so very rare.
Most thinking is not original, and of that which is
original by far the greater portion of it is of that
first type of originality mentioned by Dewey—the
further elaboration of old meanings rather than the
introduction of a new method and outlook. Most
thinking is but clever manipulation of old mean-
ings, defense of established positions, or deduction
of implications. But the kind of original thinking
which leads to the “‘mystic’’ experience is one in
which the thinker struggles to divest himself of
every bias and limitation imposed upon him by his
mental habits and established meanings. He strug-
348 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
gles to get away from himself, understanding by
self his established system of meanings. This strug-
gle to escape from self with all its limitations and
prejudices, this profound effort to open one’s mind
to the total fact, is very closely akin to worship.
It is somewhat of the same motive, the same earn-
estness and profundity, the same method, as the
worship of the mystic.
Yet one cannot think without a system of mean-
ings. How can one escape from the only system
he has and at the same time have a system for the
purpose of thinking? Only by disrupting his
established system into a wide free play of impulse
and allowing it to recrystallize. “This is what the
thinker does and this is what we have seen the
mystic does. Yet the thinker does not lose alli
meaning and direction in his experience and neither
does the mystic. He enters the experience with a
purpose—to get a more adequate system of mean-
ings—and this purpose gives direction to the whole
process. One difference between the thinker and
the mystic is the degree of control that still persists
throughout the experience, it being presumably
greater in case of the thinker than in case of the
mystic. And yet here also the difference is too
commonly magnified. As Dewey insists, the
thinker cannot forecast the outcome. He must be
ready to relinquish every precious object of desire,
every good that has been cherished, for out of the
process of radical originality may come that which
is strange and unloved heretofore while all that
was dear is cast away.
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 349
Of course the chief difference between the mystic
and the thinker arises from the difference in their
beliefs about the nature of the experience they un-
dergo. But here also there are cases where they
approach one another. Let us see if there is any
sense at all in which the mystic and thinker can
agree in the belief that the mystic experience yields
a peculiar access to the divine. Here again we can
turn to Professor Dewey for light. He shows us
that note of worship and that recognition of a reli-
gious object that appears in the thinker when he is
sufficiently earnest and profound in his efforts.
But a mind that has opened itself to experience
and that has ripened through its discipline, knows
its own littleness and impotencies; it knows that
its wishes and acknowledgments are not final meas-
ures of the universe whether in knowledge or in
conduct, and hence are, in the end, transient. But
it also knows that its juvenile assumption of power
and achievement is not a dream to be wholly for-
gotten. It implies a unity with the universe that
is to be preserved. The belief, and the effort of
thought and struggle which it inspires, are also
the doing of the universe, and they in some way,
however slight, carry the universe forward. A
chastened sense of our importance, apprehension
that it is not a yardstick by which to measure the
whole, is consistent with the belief that we and
our endeavors are significant not only for them-
selves but in the whole.
Fidelity to the nature to which we belong, as
parts however weak, demands that we cherish our
desires as ideals till we have converted them into
350
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
intelligence, revised them in terms of the ways and
means which nature makes possible. When we
have used our thought to its utmost and have
thrown into the moving unbalanced balance of
things our puny strength we know that though
the universe slay us still we may trust, for our lot
is one with whatever is good in existence. We
know that such thought and effort is one condition
of the coming into existence of the better. As far
as we are concerned it is the only condition, for
it alone is in our power. To ask more than this
is childish; but to ask less is recreance no less ego-
tistic, involving no less a cutting of ourselves from
the universe than does the expectation that it meet
and satisfy our every wish. ‘To ask in good faith
as much as this from ourselves is to stir into motion
every capacity of imagination, and to exact from
action every skill and bravery.
The striving of man for objects of imagination
is a continuation of natural processes; it is some-
thing man has learned from the world in which
he occurs, not something which he arbitrarily in-
jects into that world. When he adds perception
and ideas to these endeavors, it is not after all he
who adds; the addition is again the doing of
nature and a further complication of its domain.°®
This mergence of the individual with the total
movement of all things, this sense of dependence
upon the whole and participation in the working
of this total movement, is surely a religious attitude.
There is solemn hope and aspiration and dedicated
endeavor and a sense of unity with All, which nev-
5 pp. 420-22,
a
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 351
ertheless is not pantheistic since the unique contri-
bution of the individual is recognized and a certain
independent responsibility and power on his part
as “‘one condition of the coming into existence of
the better.’’
Now whatever else God may be, he certainly
cannot be separated from the total movement of
all things, that total event with which all minor
events are continuous. In the mystic experience
we yield ourselves up to that event, we merge our-
selves with it. To that event, or to the several
events that enter into it, all our meanings must
refer if they are to have any efficacy at all; and
from that event or the several events which enter
into it, all our meanings must be derived, accord-
ing to the philosophy we are now considering.
We become distinct individuals, efficacious in
controlling events and contributory to the total
outcome of things, only as we develop an opera-
tive system of meanings. When we discard these
meanings, as in the mystic state, we become merged
with events. A system of meanings, and above all
a growing system of meanings, is indispensable to
individuality and all the values of individuality.
We are not for a moment discounting these values.
But from time to time we need to discard these
meanings, merge with events and so with the Total
Event, and thus get a new start. This is what wor-
ship does. In its more extreme forms we call it
mysticism, but in its rudimentary form it is present
in all genuine cases of profound worship. Surely
the mystic is justified in the substance of his belief,
352 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
whatever errors may be involved in his over-beliefs
and however mistaken may have been some of his
methods.
On the other hand, this surrender to the mean-
ingless flow of events may be cultivated in such a
way as to undermine all meanings and cause life to
sink to a state of brutishness. If the meaningless
state is sought and cultivated as a permanent state
and one strives by way of it to escape from all
meanings continuously, it is dehumanizing. Such
meaningless states, as we have seen, can be had in
aesthetic experience or the sexual or gustatory or
what not. All these experiences can be cultivated
as stages and conditions to the development of a
richer and more adequate system of meanings.
But if they are cultivated for the sake of destroying
all meaning from existence, they are the worst of
evils. In other words, the meaningless state has a
proper function in human living only as it serves
to provide for the refreshing, reconstruction and
magnifying of meanings; just as meanings have
their proper place only as they serve to control, and
give meaning to otherwise meaningless events.
The two sides are reciprocal; each is indispensable
to the best in the other. Thus work and worship
should alternate.
CHAPTER XIII
THE EMERGENCE OF RELIGION
Professor Hocking has said that the chief mark
of religion is not utility but fertility. It is the
mother of all the great cultural interests of human
life. At one time all the arts, using arts in the
broad sense to cover the several functions of cul-
ture, have at some time or other resided in the body
of religion. Politics in its more rudimentary stages
was merged with religion and there was a time
when men could not distinguish any political life
in their society beyond the religious. Education,
before it was sufficiently developed to be efficient,
and while still blundering and crude, was identified
with religion. Science, before it could be called
science, before it had perfected its technique, while
still vague, confused and ridden with wild illusions,
but groping after the truth, was one phase of reli-
gion. The same is true of art, of sex love, of agri-
culture and industrial life, and so on down the list.
This mergence with religion of all branches of
culture when at the level of crude immaturity, has
brought religion into disrepute. All the vagaries
of that pre-scientific groping, with its superstitions,
its myths, its blunders, is accredited to religion. In
a sense it was religion, but it was religion mothering
353
354 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
science. These blunderings, and gropings and
superstitions were just as truly rudimentary science
as they were religion. They arose because of man’s
efforts to find the truth. We are not saying that
all the myths, illusions, etc., arose out of efforts
to seek the truth. We are only saying that that
was one motive which has always to some degree,
and however sporadically, actuated the doings and
dreamings of men. And the working of this mo-
tive, in so far as it did work, was rudimentary
science or that out of which science developed. But
until recent times it was so merged with religion
as to be indistinguishable therefrom. ‘This grop-
ing has been called science only since it has so de-
fined its field and perfected its methods as to com-
mand respect. In other words, the disreputable
pre-scientific groping of men after truth has been
identified with religion, while the highly respect-
able and efficient stage of this groping is called
science. Such has always been the fate of mother-
hood—to be identified with the unlovely embryo
and the mewling and squalling infant. What has
been said of science is true also of art, industry,
politics, etc. As soon as these interests became effi-
cient, sufficiently mature to have a technique that
would enable them to perform works that could
command respect, they became distinguished and
separate from religion. Thus religion becomes
identified with the crude, the unlovely, the wild
guesses and illusions of human beings.
The contempt and doubt that has been cast
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 355
upon religion because of this her work of mother-
hood, is reflected by William James. He says:
The cultivator of this science [the history of
religion] has to become acquainted with so many
groveling and horrible superstitions that presump-
tion easily arises in his mind that any belief that
is religious probably is false. In the “prayerful
communion of savages with such mumbo-jumbo
deities as they acknowledge, it is hard for us to see
what genuine spiritual work—even though it were
work relative only to their dark savage obligations
—can possibly be done.
The consequence is that the conclusions of the
science of religions are as likely to be adverse as
they are to be favorable to the claim that the es-
sence of religion is true. There is a notion in the
air about us that religion is probably only an
anachronism, a case of survival, an atavistic re-
lapse into a mode of thought which humanity in
its more enlightened examples has outgrown; and
this notion our religious anthropologists at present
do little to counteract.
The worst of it is, however, that these various
branches of culture to which religion gives birth
are not delivered completely from the mother’s
body as an individual organism would be. They
are not, of course, individual organisms at all.
They break up into various lines of development
or non-development. Those lines that do not,
that remain crude and archaic, are likely to remain
in the body of religion indefinitely. Hence we
1 Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 490.
356 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
often have a crude science or pre-science allied
with religion, which may fight that science which
has developed sufficiently to stand as an independ-
ent and distinct branch of culture.
But in all this we have the explanation for a
very remarkable fact, which is the chief point we
want to make. Religion, while being one of the
oldest of all the interests of man, is one of the least
differentiated and distinct. She has been con-
stantly so merged with her progeny and with the
discarded forms of arts which once she reared, that
her own characteristic features and form are
scarcely known. ‘This is shown by the great diffi-
culty we have in trying to define the precise char-
acter of religion. While all other interests, such
as politics, industry, education, science, art, and sex
love, have been growing out into clear and well-
defined functions of culture, each recognized for
what it is, each with an “‘essence’’ of its own, reli-
gion remains still in the dark. It is confused with
social service, with morality, with art, with the in-
ertia of tradition, with the illusory play of fancy,
with group life,as such, with philosophy, with
science, and heaven knows what all. It is because
religion in actual fact has not differentiated itself
from the rudimentary forms of the several arts and
sciences, now established or yet to be. She has
been so preoccupied in mothering that she has ne-
glected to develop her own unique individuality.
Religion is still more or less in that mixed and
amorphous condition in which all branches of cul-
ture have stood in their rudimentary stages prior
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD Be
to that differentiation and distinction of function
which comes with maturity.
It is, of course, well known that the develop-
ment of human life means this growing distinction
of character and function on the part of all cul-
tural interests. Distinction of function does not
mean separation, of course, or ought not to mean
it and must not, if health is to be preserved. The
functional relation means intimate interaction, mu-
tual determination. “Two curved lines are func-
tions of one another if the course of one determines
the course of the other. The hand and eye are
functions of one another if what the eye sees deter-
mines what the hand shall touch and what the
hand shall touch determines what the eye shall see.
This growing differentiation at its best ought to
bring about the greatest efficiency and truest free-
dom and maximum achievement on the part of
each interest, while at the same time preserving the
closest correlation and interaction of each with all
and all with each. This process of functional dif-
ferentiation on the part of the arts and sciences is
one of the marks of progress.
Now the question arises: Will religion undergo
this process of differentiation along with the other
arts? She has been the slowest of all to stand
forth in her unique individuality, for reasons
already mentioned. But will she ever stand forth
in such manner? Will she always remain, as she
has been in the past, suffused throughout the cha-
otic mass of undefined human interests, or will she
unveil a distinct character and function of her
358 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
own, interacting with all the other interests of man
but not confused with them?
Perhaps before this question is answered, a prior
question should be put. Does religion have a
unique individuality of her own? Is she anything
at all save only that mental attitude in which new
culture germinates? Is she nothing at all but that
confused state of mind and life in which are mixed
together, on the one hand the mass of vague, grop-
ing, undefined interests which have not yet devel-
oped sufficiently to be distinctly recognized and de-
liberately prosecuted, and on the other hand the
cast-off and outgrown forms of arts and sciences
which have long since passed beyond the ideas and
attitudes which they left behind them in the body
of religion? Is religion not a true ‘“‘mother,’”’ but
only a mass of eggs, as it were, so that when all
the progeny are born there is nothing left but
shells and refuse and the spawn that failed to ma-
ture? ‘This is the view that some hold, but it is
emphatically not our own.
But if religion has never yet merged in distinct
character and function, how can we say that she
has any? Our answer is that even now religion is
in process of so emerging. ‘The thing is going on
before our eyes in this age in which we live as it
never did before. In the past, religion could serve
human life adequately by remaining beneath the
surface, moving mightily but indistinguishably
allied with other interests; ambiguous, germinat-
ing, indistinct. But that time is past and men are
turning to religion with the demand that she un-
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD aay
veil herself, show her features, reveal her unique
identity or else confess that she has none. The
world demands such a distinct and characteristic
religion to-day because the various arts and sciences
have attained such a degree of maturity that they
need her, no more as a nursing mother whose iden-
tity is merged with their own, but as a guide and
companion, with a unique and inspiring individ-
uality of her own, who can stir them to new zeal
with her companionship, refresh and enlarge their
vision and keep them perpetually young and
growing because of the unfolding wealth of expe-
rience which religion enables them to discern.
What are the signs that religion is beginning to
differentiate itself with a distinctness that it never
had before? ‘There are many. Most striking is
the intensive study of religion that is being made.
Historical, psychological, sociological, and philo-
sophical studies of religion have been prosecuted
during the last fifty years to a degree that is un-
paralleled. The persistent and strenuous efforts
to define religion point to the same thing. In
other days men were content to take their religion
without attempt to define it. But not so now.
Religion is becoming highly self-conscious, and
self-consciousness is a mark of growing distinctness
of individuality. The groping efforts of the
church to find its own unique function in society
points to the same thing. The separation of
church and state, and church and education, the
ever clearer line of demarcation that is being drawn
between religion and morals, religion and science, ©
360 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
religion and art, all tend to emphasize or force to
the point of recognition, the distinctive character
of religion. Religion as a distinct function is
emerging. We know of no greater work to be
done in the world today, and no greater need to
be met, than just this of bringing religion forth
into clarity and distinctness. For only as this dis-
tinct and essential function of religion in human
life is recognized and provided for, can religion
play her rightful part in meeting the deepest needs
of men. In the past, as we have seen, it was not
necessary to clarify the character of religion in
order to enable her to do her proper work. But
today it is.
Religion may be used in two senses, to designate
its two different phases. Rudolf Eucken has made
this distinction and it seems to us it has never been
sufficiently recognized. He distinguishes the two
by calling one Die universale Religion and the
other Die charakteristische Religion. In one phase,
religion is the mass of germinating culture consist-
ing of embryonic arts in all stages of development
mixed with the cast-off, outgrown forms of arts
that have long since outgrown the body of reli-
gion.” In the other phase religion is a character-
istic function distinct from the other functions.
This does not mean, of course, that religion in this
latter sense does not pervade the whole of life, as
religion always should. We have already ex-
plained the use of the word function sufficiently to
2 We here use the word culture in the broad sense to designate all that
portion of the life of man that distinguishes him from the beast, in a word
his spiritual life.
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 361
show that we do not mean by it something sepa-
rate from the rest of life.
The importance of this distinction will not ap-
pear until we consider some of the studies that
have been made of religion. We have already
quoted from James to show the dubious and con-
temptuous attitude that so easily arises toward reli-
gion when its history and anthropology is studied.
What these studies put before us is not character-
istic religion, not religion in its unique character
and distinct function, but it is simply germinating
culture. In a certain sense it can be said that what
they study is religion; but it is equally true to say
that what they study is rudimentary culture, em-
bryonic science, embryonic art, and _ politics.
What one should condemn in these early stages of
life is not religion as such, but the cultural inter-
ests of man when at these rudimentary stages of
development. It will help to free religion from
this unjust treatment, and clarify the unique char-
acter of religion, if we glance at some of these his-
torical studies. “There is perhaps nothing better
in this field than George Foote Moore’s The Birth
and Growth of Religion. We shall take it as the
best example we can find of such a study.
He does not try to define religion but he does
find it necessary to set up certain marks by which
to recognize it when he finds it. These marks are
four:
(1) Man’s belief in certain powers that do
things to him.
362 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
(2) Belief that these powers are actuated by
motives similar to his own.
(3) Belief that he can induce these powers to
behave in such a way as to help him or refrain
from hurting him.
(4) Action according to these beliefs.
By powers are meant simply “‘things that do
things’ without any attempt to define their na-
ture. Their nature will be defined variously in
different religions. What makes these beliefs re-
ligious, however, according to Mr. Moore, is not
their character as beliefs, but the way they are
acted upon. One must stake his welfare on his be-
lief and act accordingly. Otherwise the belief is a
philosophy, a fancy, a myth, or a science, but not
a religion.
His welfare that he commits to his religious be-
liefs, the character of the beliefs themselves, and
the way he acts upon his beliefs, are all determined
by his wants. If he wants protection from wild
beasts, from storms or cold or parching heat, he
will construe the gods in such a way as to make
them fit and able to provide such protection on
condition that he himself acts in the proper way
toward them. If he wants his herds to multiply,
his god may be a bull. If he wants crops to grow
and yield, his god may be a rain god or a river god.
The impulse giving rise to religion, says Mr.
Moore, is that of self-preservation, which includes
preservation of the family, the tribe, the species,
the land or whatever concerns and constitutes that
system of interests which makes up the self. At
:
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 363
first this impulse is chiefly concerned with the at-
tainment of material goods and avoidance of ma-
terial ills. But in the course of time it is ‘“‘self-
realization,’’ the development of all the powers of
the self, the attainment of a transcendent self,
This self-realization becomes the governing inter-
est and for it biological existence may be sacrificed.
Without it all things else have no value. When
this interest becomes paramount the God (or gods)
become some sort of transcendent self (or selves) ,
an over-self, through whom this self-realization can
be attained.
The first step in the development of religion,
traced by Mr. Moore, is the transition from deal-
ing with things as powers in themselves to dealing
with the soul or spirit back of these things. At
first the back-switching branch, that lashes you in
the face, or the lightning that frightens you, or the
wandering stream which led you to your quarry,
was itself a malevolent or benevolent thing with
which you must deal directly. The branch itself,
or the lightning or stream, you must control or
pacify, or otherwise act to win its favor or escape
its malice. But in the course of time it is not the
branch itself or stream or lightning, but the spirit
in the branch with which you must deal.
This belief in souls arises from two sources;
observation of the dying and dreams.
The man who was energetically doing things,
now lies cold and still, How came this chnge?
It came when he ceased to breathe. It must be,
then, the breath which has passed out of him
364 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
which wrought the change. His breath, then, was
that which animated him, which did things in
him. His self, that which does things, is the
breath. Or again, it is when the blood flows out
of him that he ceases to do things. It must be
either the breath or the blood, or both, or some-
times one and sometimes the other which is the
doer of things. Thus soul or spirit is the word by
which he designates the doer in the body, and is
likely to be conceived as another more ethereal body
made of breath. So it comes about that when the
branch or stream does things which attract his at-
tention he thinks it must be some spirit in the
branch or stream which does it.
Dreams further augment this process of filling
the world with spirits akin to the “‘soul’’ of man,
and making spirits rather than ordinary sensible
things the chief objects of human concern. In his
dreams he deals with men and animals and other
objects. In dreams he wanders in regions remote
from the place of his sleeping body. How is this
possible unless he has a double, a soul, which can
leave the body, wander to these distant parts, and
interact with other objects. Also in dreams one
sees men and beasts which come to where one is
sleeping, which may converse and even struggle
with one; and yet on awaking one may discover
that these men and beasts in bodily form have
never been present. Hence they also must have
souls that leave the body and wander abroad.
Thus there gradually develops the notion of
spirits which animate objects whenever these ob-
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 365
jects do anything to attract especial attention.
Hence it is upon these spirits that one’s welfare is
dependent. If one would get food or escape harm,
ward off danger or be grateful for good received, it
is to these spirits that one must turn. It is they that
support one on the floating ice, or bring the fish,
or cause the log to span the stream. Whatever is
done they do, for they are the doers. But that
does not mean that early man generalizes and as-
serts that all the objects in the universe embody
spirits and all the happenings in the universe are
done by spirits. He does not ordinarily generalize
at all. He does not think about the universe as a
whole. He thinks only of this particular hap-
pening and that. These, on those particular occa-
sions when they most conspicuously affect his in-
terests, he believes to be animated by spirits. But
what the universe as a whole may be, may never
enter his head.
Before pursuing the sketch further there are two
points of criticism which we must raise. The first
applies to the concept of religion here implied.
On what grounds can one call all these beliefs, in-
ferences, illusions and practices religious? Mr.
Moore says that the belief and practice can be
called religious if the individual commits his wel-
fare to the belief and acts accordingly. But surely
we have scientific beliefs to which we commit our
welfare and act accordingly. We have ordinary,
practical, everyday beliefs on which we constantly
stake our welfare, and yet we do not recognize
anything distinctively religious in them. No, we
366 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
must insist that these developing beliefs which Mr.
Moore has so accurately sketched are no more rep-
resentative of rudimentary religion than they are
stages of rudimentary science, rudimentary art,
rudimentary social life, rudimentary love, and
rudimentary culture in general. The process by
which men come to belief in spirits is a scientific
and artistic process every bit as much as it is a reli-
gious process. Of course if one insists that these
products of imagination cannot be called scientific
and artistic because the latter necessitate a special
technique and distinctive function, then we can
say the same with regard to religion. One can in-
sist that these processes are not religious because
they do not reveal that special function and tech-
nique which we find in the religion of today. The
blade cuts both ways. Either this process of devel-
oping beliefs is rudimentary culture in that stage
ptior to the differentiation and technical proficiency
of the several arts and hence is just as much embry-
onic science, art, and social life, as it is embryonic
religion, or else it is none of these, neither religion
nor science nor art. We admit that in all this there
is certainly an element of religion just as there is an
element of science and art and social life, etc. But
we cannot identify it all with religion any more
than with the others.
The second point of criticism is with regard to
the motive or impulse that gives rise to all these be-
liefs and practices. Mr. Moore says it is the impulse
of self-preservation. We feel that that is a very in-
accurate statement. The lower animals are actu-
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 367
ated by the impulse of self-preservation, but they
do not develop any such world view, or religion, if
one wishes to call it religion. They experience the
death of their associates and the higher animals have
dreams. Why do they not develop beliefs in spirits
and try to pacify, persuade, or control them?
Plainly the impulse to self-preservation is no ex-
planation at all.
Why, then, does man go through this process of
developing a rudimentary culture, one ingredient
of which is religion? We cannot ask, Why does he
develop a religion, for reasons already stated. He
does not develop a religion as something distinct
from rudimentary, germinating culture, in which
there is mixed together as much science, art, social
life, and love as there is religion. But why does
he do it?) The answer to that question would lead
us very deep into the nature of man and into the
understanding of religion. Santayana would say
that it is due to the lyric quality of human con-
sciousness which spins out fancies for delight.
John Dewey would say it is the exuberant remin-
iscencing to which man is so prone. But we do not
believe these answers go to the root of the matter.
The child, the savage and the man in general de-
velops a boundless efflorescence of beliefs, fancies,
myths, and speculations because he is organically
so constructed as to be responsive to a far greater
number of stimuli than those which control his ad-
aptation to immediate environment. Putting the
same thing in other words, it is because man is en-
dowed with a far greater number and diversity of -
368 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
impulses than can be fulfilled in ordinary adaptive
behavior. It is these suppressed or inadequately ex-
pressed impulses, responsive to the rich fullness of
the world about him, that give rise to all these
groping beliefs concerning this vague, dim, rich
fullness of the world. Still another way of express-
ing the same thing is to say that man is aware, prior
to sophistication, of far greater wealth of immediate
experience than he is able correctly to interpret or
use in adapting himself to his recognized environ-
ment. Because of these surplus stimuli, surplus im-
pulses, and surplus wealth of experience, he is given
to wondering, speculating, imagining, and groping
out into the unknown, striving to solve the mys-
tery of that total impact of the world upon him
which so far exceeds those few features which serve
to guide him in meeting the routine requirements
of life.
Now it is our claim that religion is precisely our
response to the undefined significance of this total
wealth of experience when we take it as a single
datum signifying the supreme and total object with
which we have to do in all the conduct of our lives.
This is religion, we say, when religion becomes suf-
ficiently differentiated from the several branches of
culture to show its unique character and distinctive
function. The several branches of culture, on the
other hand, are distinguished from religion in that
they select from this wealth of surplus experience
certain features or data which they circumscribe as
their own, and with which they deal by a special
technique which is also their own. The several
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 369
sciences do this. The several fine arts do this. Ro-
mantic love does this. Friendship does it. So also
politics, etc., etc. Underneath, or running through,
this wealth and surplusage of experience which pro-
vides the materials for the several branches of
culture and for religion, there are those common
everyday features which guide us in our biological
adaptation to the immediate environment. It is be-
cause the lower animals scarcely attend to anything
more than these common everyday features, that
they do not develop a culture or a religion.
We have just defined religion and the branches of
culture as they are when they become differentiated
and distinct in character and function. But in the
early stages of life as portrayed by Mr. Moore, and
even to a large degree in modern life, they are not
differentiated. Differentiation is a matter of degree,
and in primitive life it is at the minimum. Con-
sequently at that time religion was not what we
have just described it to be nor were the branches
of culture. They were mixed together. That means
that early man did not respond to the wealth and
surplus of experience as a total datum signifying
the supreme and total object with which he has to
deal. Nor did he select from out this total wealth
certain features which were allocated to certain spe-
cial techniques. He selected certain features but not
according to any special plan. He reacted to the
surplusage of experience in a more or less merged
and inchoate form, and yet not as a total datum
signifying one supreme object. His position was a
sort of compromise between the religious attitude
370 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
on the one hand and the attitude of the several arts
and sciences on the other.
There is a still third criticism we would make of
Mr. Moore’s treatment, which supports the view
we have just set forth. We believe Mr. Moore
makes primitive man altogether too practical. He
represents him as thinking, doing, and believing,
always with a view to satisfying certain practical
needs such as food and shelter. Both Santayana and
John Dewey have shown this to be a fallacy.* Be-
cause we are living in an age and in a country dom-
inated by practical interests, especially economic, we
are prone to think that all men of every age were
so controlled. But children and primitive men are
not preéminently practical. They are not chiefly
concerned with matters of food and shelter. Early
man by nature is a dreamer. He only gradully
learns to work and think with a view to satisfying
his material needs. He is not nearly so diligent in
the pursuit of material goods as are the lower ani-
mals or as are many men in civilized conditions.
He must learn to work, to constrain his imagina-
tion, to engage in directed thinking. And he can
learn this only as he has painfully built up a system
of tradition that holds him to such endeavors. The
savage does not have such a system of tradition or-
dinarily. To be sure he is often hard pressed. But
he would rather play and dream and die than work,
or bend his thought to practical matters. He is not
nearly so much of an economic man as Mr. Moore
and others would represent him to be.
3 Dewey’s most effective treatment of the matter is in his Reconstruction
of Philosophy.
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD 371
Of course early man’s imaginings are shaped by
his wants. But what are his wants? Food and
shelter, yes. But these are only two among in-
numerable others. And among his many wants,
strongest of all in the case of some, is the want of
venturing forth into the dim unknown that en-
compasses him. ‘This he can do most readily and
safely by exercising his imagination. So he com-
mences to develop beliefs. These beliefs are relig-
ious in so far as they pertain to the significance of
the merged and total datum of experience prior to
analysis and discrimination of distinct factors with-
in it. For these several factors do not signify God,
but only the total indiscriminated event can involve
God. Some of his beliefs may approximate the
status of being beliefs concerning this total event,
for he has not learned to analyze and discriminate
within it those factors which signify separate ob-
jects. But neither has he learned to apprehend the
total event as the single unanalyzed passage of na-
ture. Hence he is neither thoroughly religious nor
thoroughly scientific, and he is scarcely any more
the one than the other. He neither discriminates
the data accurately nor merges them completely
into a total datum. He does not carefully investi-
gate the significance of distinct data nor consider
the significance of this total datum. Rather his
mental attitude wavers back and forth between these
two extremes. Hence he is neither scientific nor
religious but a mixture of the two which may ulti-
mately develop into both, but for the time is nei-
ther. It is apparent, however, that these two lines
372 RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
of development must move in opposite directions.
Religion is just as ‘‘instinctive’’ as science and art,
but no more so. The only reason the view has
been held that religion is more “‘instinctive’ than
politics and cultured love, is because religion has not
been defined in thought as clearly as these latter.
All the crude inchoate stage of culture has been
lumped together as religion. Of course when that
is done religion appears to be more primitive and
closer to original human nature than the several
arts and sciences. We have tried to show how this
misunderstanding so easily arises.
As a matter of fact one must learn to worship, to
be thoroughly and consistently religious, just as
much as he must learn to love. The sex impulse
does not need to be learned, but love does. Gregar-
iousness does not need to be learned, but political
life does. An imaginative reaction to a back-slash-
ing branch does not require a very great amount of
learning, but to enter into the distinctive religious
experience does. ‘To be thoroughly and consis-
tently religious requires a gradually and painfully
acquired system of proper traditions, and the same
is true for thoroughness and consistency in scientific
method or artistic production.
Religion as something unique and distinct, we
have said, is our response to some significance of
the total datum of experience, or, what Whitehead
calls the total undiscriminated event which may en-
ter awareness under favorable conditions. But to
be religious in this way requires two things which
4 Whitehead, A. N., Concept of Nature,
AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD Vis,
are interdependent. One must somehow become
aware of this total event and, secondly, he must find
some significance in it. He can scarcely become
aware of it unless he does apprehend it as signif-
icant, however undefined the significance may be.
To find significance in this total event means to have
certain beliefs concerning it. Such beliefs are truly
religious. But they can arise, it is quite plain, only
as the result of long development. “They can ap-
pear only in ‘‘the fullness of time.”