For my expectation is from him."

When science has given us all the power it can, we still need another
kind of power which science cannot give.

Whatever else the scientific control of life may have accomplished, it
has not saved mankind from the old and devastating problems of trouble
and sin. So far as individual experience of these is concerned, there
is little discernable difference between two thousand years before
Christ and two thousand years afterward. Still disasters fall upon our
lives, sometimes as swift in their assault as wild beasts leaping from
an unsuspected ambush. Still troubles come, long drawn out and
wearying, like the monotonous dripping of water with which old
torturers used to drive their victims mad. Still sins bring shame to
the conscience and tragic consequence to the life, and tiresome work,
losing the buoyancy of its first inspiration, drags itself out into
purposeless effort and bores us with its futility. Folk now, as much
as ever in all history, need to have their souls restored. The
scientific control of life, however, is not adequate for that.
Electricity and subways and motor cars do not restore the soul; and to
know that there are millions upon millions of solar systems, like our
own, scattered through space does not restore the soul; and to delve in
the sea or to fly in the air or to fling our words through the ether
does not restore the soul. The need of religion is perennial and would
be though our scientific control over life were extended infinitely
beyond our present hope, for the innermost ministry of religion to
human life is the restoration of the soul.

In this fact lies the failure of that type of naturalism which
endeavours to keep religion as a subjective experience and denies the
reality of an objective God. If we are not already familiar with this
attempted substitution we soon shall be, for our young people are being
taught it in many a classroom now. One of the basic principles of this
new teaching is belief in the spiritual life but, when one inquires
where the spiritual life is, he discovers that it is altogether within
ourselves--there is no original, creative and abiding Spiritual Life
from whom we come, by whom we are sustained, in whom we live. Rather,
as flowers reveal in their fragrance a beauty which is not in the earth
where they grow nor in the roots on which they depend, so our spiritual
life is the mysterious refinement of the material ou