TEXT B Yet the difference in tone
and language must strike us, as soon as it is philosophy that speaks: that
change should remind us that even if the function of religion and that of reason
coincide, this function is performed in the two eases by very different organs.
Religions are many, reason one. Religion consists of conscious ideas, hopes,
enthusiasms, and objects of worship; it operates by grace and flourishes by
prayer. Reason, on the other hand, is a mere principle or potential order, on
which indeed we may come to reflect but which exists in us ideally only, without
variation or stress of any kind. We conform or do not conform to it; it does not
urge or chide us, not call for any emotions on our part other than those
naturally aroused by the various objects which it unfolds in their true nature
and proportion. Religion brings some order into life by weighting it with new
materials. Reason adds to the natural materials only the perfect order which it
introduces into them. Rationality is nothing but a form, an ideal constitution
which experience may more or less embody. Religion is a part of experience
itself, a mass of sentiments and ideas. The one is an inviolate principle, the
other a changing and struggling force. And yet this struggling and changing
force of religion seems to direct man toward something eternal. It seems to make
for an ultimate harmony within the soul and for an ultimate harmony between the
soul and all that the soul depends upon. Religion, in its intent, is a more
conscious and direct pursuit of the Life of Reason than is society, science, or
art, for these approach and fill out the ideal life tentatively and piecemeal,
hardly regarding the foal or caring for the ultimate justification of the
instinctive aims. Religion also has an instinctive and blind side and bubbles up
in all manner of chance practices and intuitions; soon, however, it feels its
way toward the heart of things, and from whatever quarter it may come, veers in
the direction of the ultimate. Nevertheless, we must confess
that this religious pursuit of the Life of Reason has been singularly abortive.
Those within the pale of each religion may prevail upon themselves, to express
satisfaction with its results, thanks to a fond partiality in reading the past
and generous draughts of hope for the future; but any one regarding the various
religions at once and comparing their achievements with what reason requires,
must feel how terrible is the disappointment which they have one and all
prepared for mankind. Their chief anxiety has been to offer imaginary remedies
for mortal ills, some of which are incurable essentially, while others might
have been really cured by well-directed effort. The Greed oracles, for instance,
pretended to heal our natural ignorance, which has its appropriate though
difficult cure, while the Christian vision of heaven pretended to be an antidote
to our natural death—the inevitable correlate of birth and of a changing and
conditioned existence. By methods of this sort little can be done for the real
betterment of life. To confuse intelligence and dislocate sentiment by
gratuitous fictions is a short-sighted way of pursuing happiness. Nature is soon
avenged. An unhealthy exaltation and a one-sided morality have to be followed by
regrettable reactions. When these come, the real rewards of life may seem vain
to a relaxed vitality, and the very name of virtue may irritate young spirits
untrained in and natural excellence. Thus religion too often debauches the
morality it comes to sanction and impedes the science it ought to
fulfill. What is the secret of this ineptitude Why does
religion, so near to rationality in its purpose, fall so short of it in its
results The answer is easy; religion pursues rationality through the
imagination. When it explains events or assigns causes, it is an imaginative
substitute for science. When it gives precepts, insinuates ideals, or remolds
aspiration, it is an imaginative substitute for wisdom—I mean for the deliberate
and impartial pursuit of all food. The condition and the aims of life are both
represented in religion poetically, but this poetry tends to arrogate to itself
literal truth and moral authority, neither of which it possesses. Hence the
depth and importance of religion becomes intelligible no less than its
contradictions and practical disasters. Its object is the same as that of
reason, but its method is to proceed by intuition and by unchecked poetical
conceits. The author states that religion differs from rationality in that ______.
A.it relies on intuition rather than reasoning B.it is not concerned with the ultimate justification of its instinctive aims C.it has disappointed mankind D.it has inspired mankind