tioned cannot be related to anything else, neither can it be defined in terms of likeness or unlikeness.
The absolute, according to Spencer, is nevertheless a positive concept. We are always under the necessity of assuming something which can be defined, marked out, compared—something which is independent of the definite form ascribed to it by our thought. We represent it to ourselves, after the analogy of our own energy, as a universal energy which underlies all objective and subjective changes and forms the content of our knowledge—but which cannot itself be expressed by any concept.
Spencer moreover regards this as offering a possible solution of the controversy between religion and science. It is the common aim of all religions to furnish knowledge of the universal energy. But it is still only in its most primitive stages that religion pretends to furnish complete knowledge of the absolute. The higher the development of religion, the more readily it concedes the existence of an inexplicable mystery. When the evolution of religion has once been perfected religion and science will join hands in the common acknowledgment that the real nature of things is unknowable, and religion will cease to oppose the scientific explanation of phenomena.—Spencer is well aware of the fact that men are loath to surrender the well-defined intuitive ideas of the various religions. He nevertheless anticipates a progressive development in this direction. He fondly hopes that the emotional side of religion, its musical temper, may be able to survive, even though its dogmas must perish.
Spencer failed to overccme the discrepancy between the so-called absolute and relative. Even though, e. g., he assumes the applicability of the concept of evolution to
