ight become mighty in intellect,
and hold as his own domain everything that the intellect could grasp
at its highest point of growth, its highest possibility of attainment.
That splendid avenue of progress Huxley, and men like Huxley, placed
before humanity as the road along which it might hope to walk, full of
the certainty of ultimate achievement. But outside that, beyond the
reason in the world of thought and the senses in the material world,
Huxley, and those who thought like him, declared that man was unable
to pierce--hence "Agnostic," "without the Gnosis," without the
possibility of plunging deeply into the ocean of Being, for there the
intellect had no plummet. Such, according to science at one time, was
man; and whatever man might hope for, whatever man might strive for,
on, as it were, the portal of the spiritual universe was written the
legend "without knowledge." Thither man might not hope to penetrate,
thither man's faculties might never hope to soar; for when you have
defined man as a reasoning being, you have given the highest
definition that science was able to accept, and across the spiritual
nature was written: "imagination, dream, and phantasy."

And yet there is much in ordinary human history which shows that man
is something more than intellect, as clearly as it shows that the
intellect is greater than the senses; for every statesman knows that
he has to reckon with what is sometimes called "the religious
instinct" in man, and that however coldly philosophers may reason,
however sternly science may speak, there is in man some upwelling
power which refuses to take the agnosticism of the intellect, as it
refuses to accept the positivism of the senses; and with that every
ruler of men has to deal, with that every statesman has to reckon.
There is something in man which from time to time wells up with
irresistible power, sweeping away every limit which intellect or
senses may strive to put in its path--the religious instinct. And even
to take that term, that name, even that is to join on this part of
man's nature to a part of nature universal, which bears testimony in
every time, and in every place, that to every instinct in the living
creature there is some answer in the nature outside itself. There is
no instinct known in plant, in animal, in man, to which nature does
not answer; nature, which has woven the demand into the texture of the
living creature, has always the supply ready to meet the demand;