o extract out of them; the philosophical theories by which it
has been sought to elucidate them; the intricate and wide-reaching
devotions that have been founded upon them! What have words like
'Transubstantiation' and 'Concomitance,' devotions like 'Benediction,'
gatherings like Eucharistic Congresses to do with the august simplicity
of Christ's own institution? You Catholics argue too much--deduce,
syllogize, and explain--until the simple splendour of Christ's
mysterious act is altogether overlaid and hidden. Be more simple! It is
better to _'love God than to discourse learnedly about the Blessed
Trinity.' It has not pleased God to save His people through dialectics._
Believe more, argue less!"

Once more, then, the double charge is brought. We believe, it seems,
where we ought to reason. We reason where we ought to believe. We
believe too blindly and not blindly enough. We reason too closely and
not closely enough.

Here, then, is a vast subject--the relations of Faith and Reason and the
place of each in man's attitude towards Truth. It is, of course,
possible only to glance at these things in outline.

II. First, let us consider, as a kind of illustration, the relations of
these things in ordinary human science. Neither Faith nor Reason will,
of course, be precisely the same as in supernatural matters; yet there
will be a sufficient parallel for our purpose.

A scientist, let us say, proposes to make observations upon the
structure of a fly's leg. He catches his fly, dissects, prepares, places
it in his microscope, observes, and records. Now here, it would seem, is
Pure Science at its purest and Reason in its most reasonable aspect. Yet
the acts of faith in this very simple process are, if we consider
closely, simply numberless. The scientist must make acts of faith,
certainly reasonable acts, yet none the less of faith, for all that:
first, that his fly is not a freak of nature; next, that his lens is
symmetrically ground; then that his observation is adequate; then that
his memory has not played him false between his observing and his
recording that which he has seen. These acts are so reasonable that we
forget that they are acts of faith. They are justified by reason before
they are made, and they are usually, though not invariably, verified by
Reason afterwards. Yet they are, in their essence, Faith and not Reason.

So, too, when a child learns a foreign language. Reason justifies him in
making one act of f