outside of both, this will seem to be easily
explained: the one sacrifices reason to faith; the other
sacrifices faith to reason. But there is abundant evidence to show
that both faith (meaning thereby the religious emotions) and
reason are ineradicable elements in the human mind. That which
seriously and permanently offends against either cannot be true.
For creatures differently constituted from man--either all reason
or all pure disembodied emotion--it might be otherwise; but, for
man, as he is, the epithet 'true' seems to be excluded from any
set of propositions that has such results.

Even in the more limited sense, and confining the term to
propositions purely intellectual, there is, I think we must say, a
presumption against the truth of that which involves so deep and
wide a chasm in human nature. Without importing teleology, we
should naturally expect that the intellect and the emotions should
be capable of working harmoniously together. They do so in most
things: why should they not in the highest matters of all? If the
one set of opinions is anti-rational and the other anti-emotional,
as we see practically that they are, is not this in itself an
antecedent presumption against either of them? It may not be
enough to prove at once that the syllogism is defective: still
less is it a sufficient warrant for establishing an opposite
syllogism. But it does seem to be enough to give the scientific
reasoner pause, and to make him go over the line of his argument
again and again and yet again, with the suspicion that there is
(as how well there may be!) a flaw somewhere.

It would not, I think, be difficult to point out such flaws
[Endnote 352:1]--some of them, as it appears, of considerable
magnitude. But the subject is one that would take us far away out
of our present course, and for its proper development would
require a technical knowledge of the processes of physical science
which I do not possess. Leaving this on one side, and regarding
them only in the abstract, the considerations stated above seem to
point to the necessity of something of the nature of a compromise.
And yet there is, strictly speaking, no such thing as compromise
in opinions. Compromise belongs to the world of practice; it is
only admitted by an illicit process into the world of thought. The
author of 'Supernatural Religion' is doubtless right in
deprecating that 'illogical zeal which flings to the pursuing
wolves of doubt and unbelief, sc