that theology should not stand aloof from the onward stream of human knowledge, that it should not be treated according to rules of evidence and principles of criticism different from those to which all other sciences, and more particularly his own science, the Science of Law, owed their strength, their life, and their vigorous growth, but that it should take its place as a science among sciences, undismayed by dangers, and trusting in the inevitable triumph of truth. Whatever other Universities might say, he wished the Scotch Universities to take the lead, and to stretch out the right hand of fellowship to the newest among the sciences, the last-born child of the nineteenth century, the Science of Religion.

Some people profess to be frightened at the very name of the Science of Religion; but if they approached this new science more closely, they would soon find that there is nothing behind that name that need frighten them. What does this science consist in? First of all, in a careful collection of all the facts of religion; secondly, in a comparison of religions with a view of bringing to light what is peculiar to each, and what they all share in common; thirdly, in an attempt to discover, on the strength of the evidence thus collected, what is the true nature, the origin, and purpose of all religion.

I ask, then, Where is the danger? And why should our Universities hesitate to recognise the Science of Religion as much as the Science of Language, or the Science of Thought? The first Universities which provided chairs for the comparative study of the religions of the world were those of little, plucky

Holland. In 1880 France followed their example, and M. Reville was appointed the first professor of the Science of Religion at the Collège de France. In 1886 a special school was founded at the École des Hautes Études in Paris for the study of religions. In Germany lectures on the great religions of the world were generally given by the professors who taught the languages in which the sacred writings were composed. This is an excellent plan, perhaps the best that could be devised. The professor of Arabic would lecture on the Qur'ân, the professor of Persian on the Avesta, the professor of Sanskrit on the Veda, the professor of Hebrew on the Old Testament. Lately, however, separate chairs have been created for Comparative Theology in Germany also, and even in the Roman Catholic University of Freiburg this new study has now found a worthy representative 1.

It may seem strange to some that Lord Gifford should have expressed a wish that the Science of Religion should be treated as a strictly natural science. He may have thought of the method of the natural sciences only; but it seems to me not unlikely that he meant more, and that looking on man as an integral part, nay as the very crown of nature, he wished religion to be treated as a spontaneous and necessary outcome of the mind of man, when brought under the genial influence of surrounding nature. If religion, such as we find it in all ages and among all races of men, is a natural product of the human mind-and who denies this ?-and if the human mind, in its his

-1 Die allgemeine vergleichende Religionswissenschaft im akademischen Studium unserer Zeit, von Dr. E. Hardy, Freiburg im Breisgau, 1887.

torical development, cannot be dissevered from that nature on whose breasts it feeds and lives and grows, the Science of Religion has certainly as perfect a right as the Science of Language to be classed as one of the natural sciences.

But that view does by no means exclude an historical study of religion; nay, to my mind, the more interesting, if not the more important part of the Science of Religion, is certainly concerned with what we call the historical development of religious thought and language. It is the same with the Science of Language. That science is certainly one of the natural sciences, but we should never forget that it is full of interest also when treated as an historical science. The line of demarcation between the natural and the historical sciences is not so easy to draw as some philosophers imagine, who would claim even the Science of Language as an exclusively historical science. All depends here as elsewhere on a proper definition of the terms which we employ. If we once clearly understand what we mean by the natural and what by the historical sciences, we shall quickly understand each other; or, if we differ still, we may at all events agree to differ. Without it, all wrangling pro or con is mere waste of time, and may be carried on ad infinitum 1.

From my own point of view, which I need not vindicate again, I am able to accept Lord Gifford's designation of the Science of Religion as a natural science in both meanings of which that name admits. I share with him the conviction that the same treat

1 Lecture on the Science of Language, vol. i. p. 1; 'The Science of Language as one of the Physical Sciences.'

ment which has caused the natural sciences to gain their greatest triumphs, namely, a critical collection of facts, will be the most appropriate treatment of the Science of Religion; nor should I differ from him in looking on man, in his purely phenomenal character, as a part of nature, nay, as her highest achievement, so that, if religion can be shown to be a natural outcome of our faculties, we may readily accept the Science of Religion as one of the natural sciences, in the most comprehensive meaning of that term. Anyhow, I hope I shall best carry out the intentions of the founder of this lectureship by devoting these lectures, firstly, to a careful collection of the facts of religion; secondly, to an intercomparison of these facts; and thirdly, to an interpretation of their meaning.

But Lord Gifford has not only indicated what he wished chiefly to be taught in these lectures on Natural Theology; he has been even more careful to indicate the spirit by which he hoped that his lecturers would be guided. And this seems to me the most remarkable feature of his bequest. Lord Gifford was evidently what the world would call a devout and religious man, and you have heard how in his Will he expressed his conviction that a true knowledge of God is the means of man's highest well-being and the security of his upward progress. Yet so strong was his conviction that all scientific inquiry must be perfectly free, if it is to be useful, that he would hear of no restrictions in the choice of his lecturers.

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They may be of any denomination whatever,' he says, 'or of no denomination at all; they may be of any religion or of no religion at all; they may be socalled sceptics or freethinkers, so long as they have

proved themselves sincere lovers of and earnest inquirers after truth.'

Now in this large-hearted charity, and at the same moment, in this unshaken faith in the indestructible character of religion, we may surely recognise a sign of the times. Would such a Will have been possible fifty years ago? Would any English, would any Scotch University at that time have accepted a lectureship on such conditions? I doubt it; and I see in the ready acceptance of these conditions on the part of the Scotch Universities the best proof that in the study and true appreciation of religion also, our nineteenth century has not been stationary.

When it was first suggested that one of these Gifford readerships might be offered to me, I replied at once to my friends at Edinburgh, Glasgow, and St. Andrews, that I could not become a candidate. It so happened that I was informed at the same time that my own University might again require my services, and I felt very strongly that at my time of life I ought not to undertake new duties, but rather finish, if possible, the work which I had in hand. If I tell you that I was pledged to a new edition of the Rig-veda, which consists of six volumes quarto, of about a thousand pages each, and that besides that, I was engaged in putting a finishing touch to an English translation of the hymns of that Veda,—to say nothing of new editions of several of my other books, which, like myself, had grown old and antiquated, you will readily believe that, strongly as I felt tempted, and highly as I felt honoured that I should have been thought of as a fit candidate, I thought it wise not to enter on a new campaign.