swers to
the question, 'What is the character of this universe in which
we dwell?'"[65:7]

This _residual environment_, or profounder realm of tradition and
nature, may have any degree of unity from chaos to cosmos. For religion
its significance lies in the idea of original and far-reaching power
rather than in the idea of totality. But that which is at first only
"beyond," is _practically_ the same object as that which comes in the
development of thought to be conceived as the "world" or the "universe."
We may therefore use these latter terms to indicate the object of
religion, until the treatment of special instances shall define it more
precisely. Religion is, then, _man's sense of the disposition of the
universe to himself_. We shall expect to find, as in the social
phenomena with which we have just dealt, that the manifestation of this
sense consists in a general reaction appropriate to the disposition so
attributed. He will be fundamentally ill at ease, profoundly confident,
or will habitually take precautions to be safe. The ultimate nature of
the world is here no speculative problem. The savage who could feel some
joy at living in the universe would be more religious than the sublimest
dialectician. It is in the vividness of the sense of this presence that
the acuteness of religion consists. I am religious in so far as the
whole tone and temper of my living reflects a belief as to what the
universe thinks of such as me.

[Sidenote: Examples of Religious Belief.]

Sect. 21. The examples that follow are selected because their
differences in personal flavor serve to throw into relief their common
religious character. Theodore Parker, in describing his own boyhood,
writes as follows:

"I can hardly think without a shudder of the terrible effect
the doctrine of eternal damnation had on me. How many, many
hours have I wept with terror as I lay on my bed, till,
between praying and weeping, sleep gave me repose. But before
I was nine years old this fear went away, and I saw clearer
light in the goodness of God. But for years, say from seven
till ten, I said my prayers with much devotion, I think, and
then continued to repeat, 'Lord, forgive my sins,' till sleep
came on me."[67:8]

Compare with this Stevenson's Christmas letter to his mother, in which
he says:

"The whole necessary morality is kindness; and it should
spring, of itself, from the one