certain branch of science, theology, with religion; and, on the
other, by equally short-sighted scientific people who forget
that science takes for its province only that which is
susceptible of clear intellectual comprehension; and that,
outside the boundaries of that province, they must be content
with imagination, with hope, and with ignorance.

It seems to me that the moral and intellectual life of the
civilised nations of Europe is the product of that interaction,
sometimes in the way of antagonism, sometimes in that of
profitable interchange, of the Semitic and the Aryan races,
which commenced with the dawn of history, when Greek and
Phoenician came in contact, and has been continued by
Carthaginian and Roman, by Jew and Gentile, down to the present
day. Our art (except, perhaps, music) and our science are the
contributions of the Aryan; but the essence of our religion is
derived from the Semite. In the eighth century B.C., in the
heart of a world of idolatrous polytheists, the Hebrew prophets
put forth a conception of religion which appears to me to be as
wonderful an inspiration of genius as the art of Pheidias or the
science of Aristotle.

"And what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and
to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?"

If any so-called religion takes away from this great saying of
Micah, I think it wantonly mutilates, while, if it adds thereto,
I think it obscures, the perfect ideal of religion.

But what extent of knowledge, what acuteness of scientific