Philosophy/Religion Passage (verbal reasoning)
Introduction
The Philosophy/Religion passage is in some ways the most straightforward of the CLT Verbal Reasoning passages. Unlike the science passage, it tends to lack hyper-specific detail. Unlike the literature passage, it can be read straightforwardly as nonfiction with little in the way of figurative or narrative language. Unlike the Historical/Founding Documents passage, it presents one passage from a single author rather than two authors in conversation.
At the same time, philosophical and theological passages may still present challenges to high school readers, particularly if the passage comes from an older source. These passages often involve significant development of their arguments, with multi-step developments of logic and sometimes with allusions to broader philosophical movements and ideas beyond the scope of the 500 to 600-word passage itself.
The Journey Method and the Philosophy/Religion Passage
Application of the Journey Method will equip the student with the necessary understanding of central ideas and the tools necessary to interpret supporting details and logical connections when asked to do so. Let’s see how the “slow-fast-slow” journey applies to a 19th-century passage about theology and the university.
Practice Passage
This passage is taken from the The Idea of a University, Discourse 2, by John Henry Newman, published in 1875 and found at Newman Reader . This passage has been adapted and excerpted from the original; these modifications have not substantially changed the content or intent.
It is the fashion just now, as you very well know, to erect so-called Universities, without making any provision in them at all for Theological chairs … Such a procedure, though defended by writers of the generation just passed with much plausible argument and not a little wit, seems to me an intellectual absurdity; and my reason for saying so runs, with whatever abruptness, into the form of a syllogism:—A University, I should lay down, by its very name professes to teach universal knowledge: Theology is surely a branch of knowledge: how then is it possible for it to profess all branches of knowledge, and yet to exclude from the subjects of its teaching one which, to say the least, is as important and as large as any of them? I do not see that either premise of this argument is open to exception.
Although CLT passages are nearly always excerpted from a larger book, short story, or essay, they are selected in such a way that the first paragraph will introduce a topic that is then developed in the subsequent paragraphs. The first paragraph makes clear that Newman’s topic here is the importance of making provision for the study of theology at a university. The first sentence introduces the idea of a university without a theology department (“chair” refers to establishing faculty positions in a certain discipline). We might briefly wonder whether Newman is for or against such a practice, but if we pay attention to attitude clues, we soon find the answer: if he calls universities without theology “so-called universities,” we can infer that he dislikes the concept. Nor does he leave any room for uncertainty in the following sentence: he refers to this same idea as an “intellectual absurdity.” Without going far into the passage, then, we can already make a guess as to the main idea: a true university must include the study of theology.
Having clearly communicated his thesis (at least by implication, because we can conclude that if a university without a university is an absurdity, a university with a university must be what Newman wants), the author supports his idea in the latter part of the paragraph. He does so in the form of a syllogism, an ancient logical structure significant enough in its own right for us to pause and explain it here.
The concept of the syllogism goes back to the logical works of Aristotle, who used as one of his examples a classic formulation that still serves as an example of a syllogism to this day:
- All men are mortal. (Major premise)
- Socrates is a man. (Minor premise)
- Therefore, Socrates is mortal. (Conclusion)
The major premise is a universal statement relating a subject-- “all men”-- to a predicate that describes the subject or puts it in a category (“mortal”, which must be true of all men). The minor premise identifies a particular example of the subject given in the major premise (the example here is Socrates, who belongs in the category of “man”.) The conclusion is drawn because if all members of a certain set have a certain characteristic, a particular member of this set must have the characteristic. If all men have the characteristic of being mortal, then Socrates, a member of the species of “men,” must possess mortality as a characteristic.
With this in mind, read Newman’s syllogism. Can you boil down his language into three statements? Give it a try and then check your answer with the spoiler below.
A university professes to (should) teach universal (all branches of) knowledge.
Theology is a branch of knowledge.
Therefore, a university should teach theology.
As to the range of University teaching, certainly the very name of University is inconsistent with restrictions of any kind. Whatever was the original reason of the adoption of that term, which is unknown, I am only putting on it its popular, its recognized sense, when I say that a University should teach universal knowledge. That there is a real necessity for this universal teaching in the highest schools of intellect, I will show by-and-by; here it is sufficient to say that such universality is considered by writers on the subject to be the very characteristic of a University, as contrasted with other seats of learning …
The Journey Method instructs us to enter the second paragraph with a resolve to discover (usually via its topic sentence) how the author is going to support his/her main claim; with this idea clearly understood, we may feel free to begin reading more quickly and even skimming.
Newman’s clear writing makes the logical progression here apparent: this paragraph supports the main thesis by referring to the universality inherent in the name “university.” It’s worth pausing for a moment to make sure our understanding is clear, since the etymology of the word “university” may not naturally occur to us when we use the word. But if you detect “universe” inside of “university,” you can see how the word came about; as the author notes, the whole universe of knowledge should be taught at a university if the institution is to remain true to the origins of its founding idea.
The rest of the paragraph supports this claim by mentioning that a number of writers on the subject of the university have said the same thing as Newman here puts forward. There are no major structural markers like “but” or “however” here, so we should feel confident moving on quickly as long as we have grasped the paragraph’s central idea.
If, with other authors, we consider the word to be derived from the invitation which is held out by a University to students of every kind, the result is the same; for, if certain branches of knowledge were excluded, those students of course would be excluded also, who desired to pursue them.
Is it, then, logically consistent in a seat of learning to call itself a University, and to exclude Theology from the number of its studies? …
The first part of this portion (two small paragraphs) stays with the theme of the meaning of the word “university”. If it’s universal, suggests the author, then it should not only include all major fields of study but also, as a consequence, welcome all kinds of students. The concerns of students are what this portion adds to what’s already said; in addition, Newman repeats his call for the inclusion of theology, now as a rhetorical question: how could any exclude what is logically included?
But this, of course, is to assume that Theology is a science, and an important one: so I will throw my argument into a more exact form. I say, then, that if a University be, from the nature of the case, a place of instruction, where universal knowledge is professed, and if in a certain University, so called, the subject of Religion is excluded, one of two conclusions is inevitable,—either, on the one hand, that the province of Religion is very barren of real knowledge, or, on the other hand, that in such University one special and important branch of knowledge is omitted. I say, the advocate of such an institution must say this, or he must say that; he must own, either that little or nothing is known about the Supreme Being, or that his seat of learning calls itself what it is not. This is the thesis which I lay down, and on which I shall insist as the subject of this Discourse. I repeat, such a compromise between religious parties, as is involved in the establishment of a University which makes no religious profession, implies that those parties severally consider,—not indeed that their own respective opinions are trifles in a moral and practical point of view—of course not; but certainly as much as this, that they are not knowledge. Did they in their hearts believe that their private views of religion, whatever they are, were absolutely and objectively true, it is inconceivable that they would so insult them as to consent to their omission in an Institution which is bound, from the nature of the case—from its very idea and its name—to make a profession of all sorts of knowledge whatever.
As usual, the word “but”, in this case introducing this final paragraph, suggests an important point of departure. In this case, the author is not so much refuting or disagreeing with someone’s view, but rather using the “but” to acknowledge the need to flesh out his argument further because of a central assumption it must make: that theology is, indeed, a science. But instead of seeking to prove that assumption, the author proposes a “more exact form” with two options–options he presents as the only options available to the logical thinker. Either 1) the study of religion is not the study of truth and therefore not a science; or 2) a university admittedly omits an important branch of knowledge.
An important principle comes to the surface here: If an author raises a question, we should see if and how the author answers it. The question of whether theology is a science does open the door for Newman to support his claim that it is a science with evidence. But in this portion of the passage he chooses to wrap up this particular argument by restating his central point: that if theology is indeed a science because there is truth about God that can be discovered, then any university (based on the word “universal”) should teach the subject.
Sample Questions
The questions below seem straightforward to you, and this is no accident; our commentary above has unpacked the passage in such a way that the questions should not be too difficult. The more you can unpack the passage in the same way on test day, the better you should do on the questions!
The author of the passage would most likely agree that theology
A. differs substantially from other fields of study.
B. cannot be understood apart from other fields of study.
C. has little to no relevance to the university.
D. is an area of inquiry in which truth can be discovered.
The answer is D. Questions that ask where the author would “agree” are usually inference questions; they may ask about something fairly specific, but the right answer must be in keeping with the author’s consistent attitude toward the subject. In this case, we know that Newman has a positive attitude toward theology, believing that it deserves a place in university study. For this reason, we can quickly eliminate choice C.
Answer choice A is strongly worded (“substantially”); for this sort of answer to be correct, we need strong, specific evidence. The passage does not dwell on other fields of study besides theology, so there’s not nearly enough evidence for this answer. As for choice B, the word “cannot” should stand out as a red flag; like answer A, this choice demands very strong evidence. And again, theology is not discussed in relationship to other subjects except in being called a science. If anything, Newman seems to suggest theology can stand on its own two feet, so to speak; he would hardly agree that it cannot be understood unless combined with other fields.
That leaves choice D. In addition to referring to a connection made more than once in the passages–between theology and truth–this choice has the advance of using the mild word “can”, which tends to characterize a correct answer. Lots of things can be true … including this statement!
The author refers to the origins of the word “university” in order to
A. justify an argument about a field of study.
B. cast doubt on the legitimacy of a certain kind of knowledge.
C. ridicule opponents who reject his arguments.
D. lend support to his qualifications to write about advanced research.
The answer is A. This is a function/purpose question. The issue is not so much the detail itself but rather why it’s included. What is the author trying to accomplish in mentioning the origins of the word “university”? We would do well to first remind ourselves of those origins, rereading as necessary; recall that Newman points to the connection between “university” and “universal.” He does this to suggest that a university should be teaching all fields of knowledge; if theology is a field of knowledge, then it should be taught. In other words, Newman uses the word origins in order to advance his argument. This is choice A, with the “field of study” being theology.
The answer is not B because, while we might imagine people arguing against Newman who might cast this sort of doubt, he himself is not doing so. Choice C is way too extremely worded; there is no ridicule of particular people in this passage. Choice D starts well with “lend support to …” but Newman is defending not his own qualifications but the legitimacy of theology as a subject of study.
Over the course of the passage, the author moves from
A. suggesting the universality of a certain view to offering examples of people who hold the view.
B. presenting a logical formulation to showing why that formulation is flawed.
C. addressing a broad audience to addressing a narrow audience.
D. arguing for the validity of a claim to suggesting reasons why someone might reject the claim.
The answer is D. We can approach this sort of “logical movement” question by eliminating answers based on either of their parts–that is, they might get either the beginning or the end wrong even if they have the other part right. Choice A sounds somewhat right in its first part (although not quite, because if Newman’s view were truly universal he probably would not have to argue for it); however, later in the passage there are no examples of people who hold a view, so we can confidently eliminate choice A.
Choice B refers to something Newman does in the first paragraph; a syllogism is indeed a logical formulation. But Newman likes his syllogism very much; he would hardly call it “flawed”! Choice B is out. Choice C, meanwhile, talks about audiences the author is addressing; nowhere in the passage does the author seem to change the addressees of his argument.
Meanwhile, choice D is right because the passage begins with a clear thesis statement: Theology should be among the fields of study at a university. In the last paragraph, he addresses two reasons why a university might not include theology among its departments. Although this choice doesn’t address everything covered in the last paragraph, it is certainly the best answer in connecting an aspect of the beginning of the passage to an aspect of the end.
As used in paragraph 2, sentence 2, the word “popular” most nearly means
A. well-liked
B. commonly used
C. universally praised
D. unconditionally loved
The answer is B. As we saw in our science lesson, “vocabulary in context” questions ask about a word used in the passage, but often with one of the less common meanings of the word in question. Fortunately, we have a strong hint in the passage; Newman himself clarifies that in using the word “popular” he means “recognized.” Thus, he is not using “popular” in the sense of someone who is well-liked or admired by many. This fact rules out not only answer A, but really choice C and D as well since they also pertain to affection or admiration. Answer choice B is the closest to what Newman means; he’s referring to how a certain word is typically used.
university : seat of learning
A. universal : truth
B. science : theology
C. syllogism : logical structure
D. field of study : religion
The answer is C. Following our strategy for analogy questions, we state in a sentence the relationship between the pair of words or phrases in the stem. Sometimes we have to find the words in the passage to make sure we have the right relationship. At the end of the second paragraph, Newman contrasts the university with “other seats of learning.” This implies that a university is a seat of learning; better put, a university is a type of seat of learning. We’re looking for an answer choice in which the first term is a “type of” the second term. Answer B is close because Newman thinks theology is a science, but the words are in the wrong order. (Also, even if the author thinks theology is a science, the truth of this claim is apparently not acknowledged by all.) Similarly, we might call religion a field of study (though it would be better to say theology instead of religion), but the order is backward here as well.
Choice C has it right; a syllogism, as shown in the first paragraph, is a type of logical structure. Choice A doesn’t contain the same relationship; in fact, it would be hard to construct a dependable relationship between “universal” and “truth”; though truth might be universal, that may not always be the case, and in any event, Newman does not link together these two words in the passage.