They are supple as regards other forces than those which we bring to bear on them; open to suggestion from many different levels of life.
Our greatest difficulty abides in the fact that, as we have seen, a vigorous spiritual life must give scope to the emotions.

It is above all the heart rather than the mind which must be won for God.

Yet, the greatest care must be exercised to ensure that the appeal to the emotions is free from all possibility of appeal to latent and uncomprehended natural instincts.

This peril, to which current psychology gives perhaps too much attention, is nevertheless real.
Candid students of religious history are bound to acknowledge the unfortunate part which it has often played in the past.

These natural instincts fall into two great classes: those relating to self-preservation and those relating to the preservation of the race.
The note of fear, the exaggerated longing for shelter and protection, the childish attitude of mere clinging dependence, fostered by religion of a certain type, are all oblique expressions of the instinct of self-preservation: and the rather feverish devotional moods and exuberant emotional expressions with which we are all familiar have, equally, a natural origin.