To many faith simply means denying the reason and relying on emotion. They have what is called saving faith and are able to feel that the Almighty forgives their wrong-doings, ceasing to be angry with them; their faith being perfect when it takes away fear of punishment. To these faith is that which they pay in the form of credence to whatever is ecclesiastically asserted in exchange for the complaisance of diety [Transcriber's note: deity?]. Those who deny all religion assert that it is founded on fear. There is enough in that assertion to give it the colour of truth. Yet fear of the unseen is but the survival of savagery. Faith founded on fear becomes servile, debasing, superstitious. If religion has no higher motive than that of fear, the trembling and dread before some great omnipotent unknown, it can give the world neither help nor uplift. What is there in God to fear? Is the Lord of life also the foe of our lives? Is the author of a world so fair and lovely, inviting us to joy and inspiring with feelings of pleasure, the foe of happiness? Has He made the world a paradise and planted in man's breast the seeds of kindness, gentleness and sweet thoughts only to glower over His world in hatred and to damn it with dread of Himself? All things that can be known argue the goodness of the unknown. As soon as a man learns to live with nature he loses his fear of forest, beast, and sea. Familiarity breeds confidence, affection and reverence. Only the remote and unfamiliar fill us with dread. The city bred tremble in the woods at night, where the native feels himself amongst well loved friends. In the same manner the fear of the divine, born of unfamiliarity, instead of being an evidence of reverence or of religion, becomes the mark of ignorance and cowardice. Rectitude of conduct, resulting wholly from regulating oneself as under an all-seeing critical eye and in dread of a far-reaching devastating hand, cannot produce enrichment of character. Hatred never gave birth to holiness. The souls that in all ages have lived nearest to things spiritual, that have most enriched the world with thoughts, whose inner visions pierced our outer clouds, seeing something of the glory of the infinite, brought back no pictures of a face austere, of a cruel despot, or of aught for love or truth to fear. True faith instead of being a compromise to allay our fears of unknown ills and calamities, ever has been the fearless, reverent search for the face of the infinite. It does not say: "I believe that God will let me alone because I did those prescribed things"; rather it says: "I cannot be satisfied alone and apart from Him, the source and sole satisfaction of all life."