ON one of these evenings as we sat together after dinner in front of the
wide open fireplace in the central room of the house, we began to talk
on that old subject––the relation of Science to Faith.
“It is no wonder,” said the priest, “if their conclusions appear to
differ, to shallow minds who think that the last words are being said on
both sides; because their standpoints are so different. The scientific
view is that you are not justified in committing yourself one inch ahead
of your intellectual evidence: the religious view is that in order to
find out anything worth knowing your faith must always be a little in
advance of your evidence; you must advance _en échelon_. There is the
principle of our Lord’s promises. ‘Act as if it were true, and light
will be given.’ The scientist on the other hand says, ‘Do not presume to
commit yourself until light is given.’ The difference between the
methods lies, of course, in the fact that Religion admits the heart and
the whole man to the witness-box, while Science only admits the
head––scarcely even the senses. Yet surely the evidence of experience is
on the side of Religion. Every really great achievement is inspired by
motives of the heart, and not of the head; by feeling and passion, not
by a calculation of probabilities. And so are the mysteries of God
unveiled by those who carry them first by assault; ‘The Kingdom of
Heaven suffereth violence; and the violent take it by force.’
“For example,” he continued after a moment, “the scientific view of
haunted houses is that there is no evidence for them beyond that which
may be accounted for by telepathy, a kind of thought-reading. Yet if you
can penetrate that veneer of scientific thought that is so common now,
you find that by far the larger part of mankind still believes in them.
Practically not one of us really accepts the scientific view as an
adequate one.”
“Have you ever had an experience of that kind yourself?” I asked.
“Well,” said the priest, smiling, “you are sure you will not laugh at
it? There is nothing commoner than to think such things a subject for
humour; and that I cannot bear. Each such story is sacred to one person
at the very least, and therefore should be to all reverent people.”