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.] § 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 fundamental doctrine, Faith. If you are sure that God, in the long run, means kindness by you, you should be happy; and if happy, surely you should be kind."[67:9] Here is destiny frowning and destiny smiling, but in each case so real, so present, as to be immediately responded to with helpless terror and with grateful warm-heartedness. The author of the "Imitatio Christi" speaks thus of the daily living of the Christian: