object of the religious consciousness. The reality, which answers to the phrases of culture, is, we suppose, the real existence of the phrases as such in books or in our heads; or again a number of events in time, past, present, and future (i.e. conjunctions of virtue and happiness). We have an abstract term to stand for the abstraction of this or that quality; or again we have a series or collection of particular occurrences. When the literary varnish is removed, is there anything more?[1] But the object of the religious consciousness must be a great deal more. It must be what is real, not only in the heads of this person or set of persons, nor again as this or that finite something or set of somethings. It is in short very different from either those thin abstractions or coarse ‘verifiable’ facts, between which and over which there is for our ‘culture’ no higher third sphere, save that of the literary groping which is helpless as soon as it ceases to be blind.
But let us turn from this trifling, on which we are sorry to have been forced to say even one word; let us go back to the religious consciousness.
Religion, we have seen, must have an object; and that object is neither an abstract idea in the head, nor one particular thing or quality, nor any collection of such things or qualities, nor any phrase which stands for one of them or a collection of them. In short it is nothing finite. It can not be a thing or person in the world; it can not exist in the world, as a part of it, or as this or that course of events in time; it can not be the ‘All,’ the sum of things or persons,—since, if one is not divine, no putting of ones together will beget divinity. All this it is not. Its positive character is that it is real; and further, on examining what we
- ↑ ‘Is there a God?’ asks the reader. ‘Oh yes,’ replies Mr. Arnold, ‘and I can verify him in experience.’ ‘And what is he then?’ cries the reader. ‘Be virtuous, and as a rule you will be happy,’ is the answer. ‘Well, and God?’ ‘That is God;’ says Mr. Arnold, ‘There is no deception, and what more do you want?’ I suppose we do want a good deal more. Most of us, certainly the public which Mr. Arnold addresses, want something they can worship; and they will not find that in an hypostasized copy-book heading, which is not much more adorable than ‘Honesty is the best policy,’ or ‘Handsome is that handsome does,’ or various other edifying maxims, which have not yet come to an apotheosis.
