natural, or under what conditions his moral life began. There are hypotheses or surmises which we may think natural or probable; but these must, of course, be distinguished from what is known to be fact. Let us begin by defining the principal terms of our inquiry. Religion is the body of beliefs and practices pertaining to the nature and worship of the Deity, and determining man's effort to propitiate him and secure his aid; ethics is the body of beliefs and practices regulating the conduct of man to man. True, this distinction seems to be sometimes abandoned: the Deity is said to be pleased by ethically right conduct, or a religious ceremonial comes to be regarded as having an ethical character. But even in these cases the distinction really exists. For, the conduct held to be acceptable to God not only relates to intercourse between human beings, but exists as a social custom before it is approved by religion; and the religious ceremonial, primarily designed to secure the divine favor, is ethical only in so far as it involves relations among men. This distinction is not affected by the question respecting a divine revelation of truth, for such a revelation might naturally treat duties to God and duties to man as separate sorts of obligation.
Before, however, entering on the discussion of the subject, it may be proper to ask whether our opinion as to the genesis of ethical practice must be modified by belief in a supernatural, divine revelation of truth. I do not inquire whether such revelations have really been given. It is sufficient for our present purpose to ask whether the objective content of the alleged revelation is of such character as to take it out of the line of natural human development. How stands the case, for example, with the ethical teaching of the Hindu, Persian, and Arabian sacred books? The morality of the Koran is in part high and pure, doubtless an advance on the current usage of Mohammed's time. Yet, leaving out of consideration what was borrowed from Jewish and Christian sources, it contains nothing that may not have been the product of human reflection. The social life of the Arabs of that period was comparatively well organized, and Mohammed undertook for the most part only to modify existing customs to restrain, for example, the rights of divorce and retaliation; and the duties of honesty, justice, kindness, and mercy which he enjoined were such as would naturally suggest themselves to a large-hearted and keen-sighted man anxious to secure the permanence of a new faith and the well-being of his countrymen. The same thing may be said of the moral codes of Zoroaster, the Veda, and Buddha. Of these the last named is the most remarkable so far as regards purity and depth of ethical perception. It has permanent value quite apart from the Buddhist idea of happiness and perfection as consisting in absolute freedom from thought and feeling; its fun-
