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 things and  turn  instinctively  to  pay  homage  to  the Author of  their  being — and  God  is  life. Now this turning of  our  whole  being  to  God,  as  the  sunflower to the  sun — to  God,  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the life — this is  religion. And that  it  is  a  fundamental law of  our  nature  is  attested  by  the  fact  that  in  all  the nations of  the  world,  past  or  present,  you  will  not find one  without  its  religion. Here and  there  a blasphemous  monster  will  assert  his  unbelief,  but  his voice is  drowned  in  the  chorus  of  adoration  that ascends from  the  world  to  the  throne  of  God. True, the system  of  truths  of  this  savage  people  may  be preposterous;  the  moral  code  of  that  other,  barbarous; this  nation  may  worship  the  sun  or  moon  or some  graven  thing;  the  object  of  that  other's  worship may  be  a  myth;  but  still  it  is  ever  the  same craving of  the  soul  for  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the life — for God,  Hence,  I  say,  the  man  of  no  religion— the  man  who  forsakes  or  neglects  his  religion— is  a  living  lie. His whole  life  is  a  contradiction — a perversion  of  Nature. In his  words  and  actions he asserts,  probably  boasts  of,  his  unbelief,  but  his heart, his  soul  cries  out:  "Thou  liest;  deep  down  in thy  being  is  the  consciousness  of  God's  existence  and thy  soul's  immortality,  and  the  essential  relations  of each  to  the  other." Further still,  he  is  a  moral  suicide. He stifles  into  silence  the  most  sacred  aspirations of  his  soul,  and  refuses  her  the  truth  and  love as necessary  to  her  existence  as  food  and  drink  to the  body. He is  worse  than  the  idolater  or  the fetish worshipper. Nay, I  would  yenture  a  step