e great mathematicians and metaphysicians
represent the aristocracy of human intellect so the great religious
geniuses represent the aristocracy of human emotion." There is nothing
new in this claim, neither is there any evidence of its truth.
Coleridge's dictum that the proper antithesis to religion is poetry is
open to serious objection, but there is more to be said for it than may
be said for the antithesis set up by Prof. Thomson. As a matter of fact,
religious geniuses have often pursued their work with as much attention
to scientific precision as was possible, and have prided themselves that
they made no appeal to mere emotion. Justification by emotion has only
been attempted when other means of securing conviction has failed. And
the appeal to emotion has become popular for very obvious reasons. It
enables the ordinary theologian to feel a comfortable superiority over a
Spencer or a Darwin. It enables mediocrities to enjoy the feeling of
being wise without the trouble of acquiring wisdom. It enables inherited
prejudices to rank as reasoned convictions. And, in addition, there is
nothing that cannot be conveniently proved or disproved by such a
method.

In whatever form the distinction is met with it harbours a fallacy.
Intellectual activity is not and cannot be divorced from emotion. There
are states of mind in which feeling predominates, and there are others
in which reason predominates. But all intellectual states involve a
feeling element. The often-made remark that feeling and intellect are
in conflict is true only in the sense that ultimately certain
intellectual states, _plus_ their associated feelings, are in conflict
with other intellectual states plus _their_ associated feelings. To
realise this one need only consider the sheer pleasure that results from
the rapid sweep of the mind through a lengthy chain of reasoning, and
the positive pain that ensues when the terms of a proposition baffles
comprehension. The force of this is admitted by Prof. Thomson in the
remark that man at the limit of his endeavour has fallen back on
religion. Quite so; that is the painful feelings evoked by an
intellectual failure have thrown a certain type of mind back on
religion. In this they have acted like one who flies to a drug for
relief from a pain he lacks the courage to bear. They take a narcotic
when, often enough, the real need is for a stimulant.

In sober truth religion is no more necessarily connected with the
em