Now this may be all deplorable enough in politics, and in all other beliefs secular; but who shall say it is not exactly as it ought to be in the matter of beliefs religious?  For, unless we beg the question of a future life in the negative, we must entertain at least the possibility of our being in a state of probation in respect of an honest use not only of our reason, but probably still more of those other ingredients of human nature which go to determine our beliefs touching this most important of all matters.

It is remarkable how even in politics it is the moral and spiritual elements of character which lead to success in the long run, even more than intellectual ability—­supposing, of course, that the latter is not below the somewhat high level of our Parliamentary assemblies.

As regards the part that is played by will in the determining of belief, one can show how unconsciously large this is even in matters of secular interest.  Reason is very far indeed from being the sole guide of judgement that it is usually taken to be—­so far, indeed, that, save in matters approaching down-right demonstration (where of course there is no room for any other ingredient) it is usually hampered by custom, prejudice, dislike, &c., to a degree that would astonish the most sober philosopher could he lay bare to himself all the mental processes whereby the complex act of assent or dissent is eventually determined[55].

As showing how little reason alone has to do with the determining of religious belief, let us take the case of mathematicians.  This I think is the fairest case we can take, seeing that of all intellectual pursuits that of mathematical research is the most exact, as well as the most exclusive in its demand upon the powers of reason, and hence that, as a class, the men who have achieved highest eminence in that pursuit may be fairly taken as the fittest representatives of our species in respect of the faculty of pure reason.  Yet whenever they have turned their exceptional powers in this respect upon the problems of religion, how suggestively well balanced are their opposite conclusions—­so much so indeed that we can only conclude that reason counts for very little in the complex of mental processes which here determine judgement.

Thus, if we look to the greatest mathematicians in the world’s history, we find Kepler and Newton as Christians; La Place, on the other hand, an infidel.  Or, coming to our own times, and confining our attention to the principal seat of mathematical study:—­when I was at Cambridge, there was a galaxy of genius in that department emanating from that place such as had never before been equalled.  And the curious thing in our present connexion is that all the most illustrious names were ranged on the side of orthodoxy.  Sir W. Thomson, Sir George Stokes, Professors Tait, Adams, Clerk-Maxwell, and Cayley—­not to mention a number of lesser lights, such as Routh, Todhunter, Ferrers, &c.—­were all avowed Christians.  Clifford had only just moved at a bound from the extreme of asceticism to that of infidelity—­an individual instance which I deem of particular interest in the present connexion, as showing the dominating influence of a forcedly emotional character even on so powerful an intellectual one, for the rationality of the whole structure of Christian belief cannot have so reversed its poles within a few months.