As in bodily sickness, so it is in all the other afflictions that flesh is heir to.  Prayer is a panacea; it cures all ills.  But it should be taken with two tonics, as it were, before and after.  Before:  faith and confidence in the power of God to cure us through prayer.  After:  resignation to the will of God, by which we accept what it may please Him to do in our case; for health is not the greatest boon of life, nor are sickness and death the greatest evils.  Sin alone is bad; the grace of God alone is good.  All other things God uses as means in view of this supreme good and against this supreme evil.  Faith prepares the system and puts it in order for the reception of the remedy.  Resignation helps it work out its good effects, and brings out all its virtue.

Thus prayer is necessary to us all, whether we be Christians or pagans, whether just or sinners, whether sick or well.  It brings us near to God, and God near to us, and thus is a foretaste and an image of our union with Him hereafter.

CHAPTER XXXI.  RELIGION.

As far back as the light of history extends, it shows man, of every race and of every clime, occupied in giving expression, in one way or another, to his religious impressions, sentiments, and convictions.  He knew God; he was influenced by this knowledge unto devotion; and sought to exteriorize this devotion for the double purpose of proving its truth and sincerity, and of still further nourishing, strengthening, safeguarding it by means of an external worship and sensible things.  Accordingly, he built temples, erected altars, offered sacrifices, burnt incense; he sang and wept, feasted and fasted; he knelt, stood and prostrated himself—­all things in harmony with his hopes and fears.  This is worship or cult.  We call it religion, distinct from interior worship or devotion, but supposing the latter essentially.  It is commanded by the first precept of God.

He who contents himself with a simple acknowledgment of the Divinity in the heart, and confines his piety to the realm of the soul, does not fulfil the first commandment.  The obligation to worship God was imposed, not upon angels—­pure spirits, but upon men—­creatures composed of a body as well as a soul.  The homage that He had a right to expect was therefore not a purely spiritual one, but one in which the body had a part as well as the soul.  A man is not a man without a body.  Neither can God be satisfied with man’s homage unless his physical being cooperate with his spiritual, unless his piety be translated into acts and become religion, in the sense in which we use the word.

There is no limit to the different forms religion may take on as manifestations of intense fervor and strong belief.  Sounds, attitudes, practices, etc., are so many vehicles of expression, and may be multiplied indefinitely.  They become letters and words and figures of a language which, while being conventional in a way, is also natural and imitative, and speaks more clearly and eloquently and poetically than any other human language.  This is what makes the Catholic religion so beautiful as to compel the admiration of believers and unbelievers alike.