The root of this conflict lies in the clash between what Churches call the gift of faith and what Professor Haldane called the duty of doubt; for where the former implies unquestioning acceptance of certain "fundamental doctrines," the latter defends a questioning, critical mind towards all ideas, opinions, doctrines which lack factual proof. Robert Browning's Pippa sang, in the joy of her annual holiday, "God's in His Heaven, all's right with the world." An example of faith. University teaching should so train a student's mind that he would be impelled to ask—"Is there a God? Is there a heaven? Is all right with the world?", and probably other consequential questions. That is the duty of doubt.

Orthodox Religion

Most Churches no longer demand the extensive credence of past ages nor consider heresy so black a sin; but they still list certain doctrines as absolute truths, divinely revealed, and to be unquestioningly accepted. Francis Bacon found this a serious hurdle in his researches, but side-stepped the issue by dividing human knowledge into watertight compartments, labelled human and divine; the latter ho surrendered to theologians as their close preserve, and saving himself a world of trouble. In our University open conflict is avoided by prohibiting the teaching of theology and a tactful avoidance by most teachers of controversial questions which border on theology. But a division of knowledge into sacred and profane is very artificial, and tight-rope walking is not conducive to thoroughness. To name only a few subjects, history, physics, biology, literature and philosophy cannot be caged like canaries and kept insulated from church doctrines; opinions in these fields inevitably clash with the "truths" taught by Churches. Hence the repeated charges of heresy or atheism. Still more so if a lecturer stresses that no opinion must be accepted as infallible truth, whether voiced by Einstein or St. Matthew, by Plato or St. Paul. The University eaters for adults not children—even though some enrol at the tender age of sixteeen—and offers the final stage of formal education. Does it fulfil its function of true scholarship if, even only by silence, it fosters the assumption that scientists or historians may err, but not the writings labelled sacred by a church?

Every student should weigh carefully the opinion expressed by Locke in his Essay of Human Understanding—"He that takes away reason to make room for revelation puts out the light of both and doth much the same as if he would persuade a man to put out both his eyes, the better to receive the light of an invisible star by a telescope." And remember how greatly Churches differ as to what has been revealed and what is religious truth. Therefore the only possible basis of a University's teaching must be that every doctrine—whether the Virgin Birth or the Theory of Relativity—is born of human experience and liable to error. The true scholar will view all opinion not completely proved as merely a working hypothesis, not an eternal verity. This does not mean that "reason" or scientific methods are the only avenues to knowledge; the world has been enriched by intuitive visions of many sensitive minds. These too can extend our horizon of understanding, though they cannot be accepted as proved fact. But to accept any such vision as a certitude because dubbed sacred in past ages is to shut our minds against new visions or further advances in thought.

Theology is only one of many fields of human thought, and discoveries in any field may profoundly modify the theories current in others. As Professor Whitehead said in Science and the Modern World, "The great point to be kept in mind is that normally an advance in science will show that statements of various religious beliefs require some sort of modification . . . to the great advantage of religion." But nothing can modify an "absolute truth" nor influence closed minds.

Whitehead's statement of course is a philosophical platitude. Ours is a practical problem. Why do Haldane and other scholars believe that men are suffering from too much rather than too little faith, and churchmen frown upon agnosticism and plead for more faith? Many of the latter rightly fear that agnosticism will breed apathy and indifference, a pessimistic conviction that, since knowledge is uncertain and truth elusive, no effort is worth while, no moral code has any value. We must admit that doubt too often is a kind of incomplete magician, raising spectres it is powerless to recall. Doubt is readily inspired; less readily the constructive thinking needed to solve our problems. The average man grows up in a cosy groove of comforting illusions. To strip them off, as Bacon said in his Essay of Truth, may plunge him into a chaos of despair. Therefore widespread agnosticism might produce catastrophe before the general level of intelligence can be raised. But this does not apply to University studies. The intellectual leaders of the future must learn to strip off all illusions, face all facts, however disagreeable, in the pursuit of knowledge.

Also worthy of consideration is Cardinal Newman's plea in his Grammar of Assent—"Life is not long enough for a religion of inferences; we shall never have done beginning if we determine to begin with truth. Life is for action; to act you must assume, and that assumption is faith." This has the merit of conceding that faith is only assumption, not certitude. But the very concession reveals the fallacy. Action cannot be suspended until no shadow of doubt remains, and history teems with glorious enterprises inspired by passionate faith. But also with catastrophic tragedies—religious wars and the long dark night of religious persecution. Above all, the fruits of Nazi faith. That inspired a passionate devotion and a dynamic energy unsurpassed in history. The harvest needs no comment. But action is not precluded by agnosticism; it begins on inferences which lack certitude and modifies those inferences as experience is gained. The student must provisionally accept a host of theories which he cannot personally test. But is progress possible unless he keeps an open mind, ready to reject assumptions if further researches reveal error or incompleteness? Newman's plea holds good only on the understanding that faith is assumption and liable to error.

What then of Haldane's plea for more doubt, more agnosticism? Is that more beneficial to the student? Do men suffer from too much faith, rather than too little? Yes, even University students. Or rather, perhaps not too much faith, but from a desire for certitude, a rest from doubt. What most of my students want is an opinion, not a mass of evidence to be disentangled. Not because they have faith in my omniscience; they are not so naive as that. But they seek knowledge rather than wisdom and rightly argue that the judgments of experienced scholars are likely to be more sound than any formed by independent personal study. They may demand evidence to support those judgments, but even shallow and fallacious evidence can convince, if we hear no opposing evidence. In spite of decay in religious faith, most men, seeking solutions to their problems, still crave certitude, not an unbiassed presentation of all facets of the problem. And because men want short cuts and certitude, the popular leaders of mankind are usually men of strong convictions. Millions accepted the Nazi slogan, "The Fuhrer is always right," millions more the doctrine of Papal infallibility, because faith still dominates reason. More doubt is still the creed of only a small minority.

Dogmatism is not exclusive to prelates and dictators; scientists, philosophers, historians, literary critics are sometimes just as prone to dogmatise and to damn opponents' theories. In every field of thought men sometimes twist and turn like hunted hares to evade the greyhounds of disturbing evidence.

Philosophy of Doubt

Eagerness for certitude and the tendency to dogmatise are only two of many reasons why more doubt must be the slogan of a University. Add to these the littleness of Man's knowledge compared with the vastness of the yet unexplored, and the melancholy fact that time and time again unanimous opinions of the ablest men have been shattered by new evidence. In theology as In all other fields. Consider, too, the maelstrom of propaganda in this modern age. Mark Twain one said to Rudyard Kipling—"Young man, when you are about to write anything, first make sure of the facts; then you can distort them as you please."

Only by assiduous practice of the first part of this advice can we guard ourselves against the exponents of the second. For all these and other reasons let the student be a doubting Thomas not a worshipping disciple. Let him assume no infallible authority; neither Pope nor Professor, neither Bible nor Bulletin. Let him, in short, take the Royal Society's motto, "Nullius in Verba," which Haldane paraphrased, "Take nobody's word for it." Action, as Newman said, may be retarded by acting too rigidly on the motto. But look before you leap is a better guiding principle than leap before you look.

Even if my arguments are not free from personal bias, the conflict is real enough between the bases of religion and of University education. As it is between those of religion and science. This latter is discussed at length in Bertrand Russell's Religion and Science and more briefly in Whitehead's Science and the Modern World. Whitehead, one of the deepest thinkers of our time, said there—"It is no exaggeration to say that the future course of history depends on the decision of this generation as to the relations between them." Diatribes will not solve the problem; nor censorship, nor repression. The function of Universities is one that must breed agnosticism and heretical opinion; must undermine what is usually meant by faith. And both education and religion are frustrated if students have to juggle with two opposing attitudes to opinion—unquestioning acceptance and critical analysis. It is possible, often quite easy, to hold contrary opinions, applying each in different spheres of activity. Perhaps few of us are entirely free from this confusion. But can it be defended as a deliberate method of study?