Everyone is a kind of a philosopher when he thinks, and a kind of a poet when he feels.

Ask, if you will, psychologists and psychiatrists if they have ever seen anyone in whom their intellectual power is of the same strength as their emotional one, and as all other psychological forces.

If these powers are somehow of comparable strength among a small number of people, do they influence a person in the same way at the same time?

They will all answer you that this does not happen at all.

These forces will only act one at a time.

Whenever any one of them is dominant, the others dwindle into the background, making practically no influence on what is taking place.

When a person is deeply involved in his intellectual thoughts, he does not give much way to his feelings and emotions.

A person enjoying some pleasurable experience, or enduring pain, will not have much time for intellectual thought.

In fact this is a standard that gives us an idea of the force a writer or a speaker was under at the time of writing or speaking.

If he tries to establish a theoretical premise or a practical method, we conclude that his writing reflects an intellectual mood.

If, on the other hand, he tries to excite feelings, playing on emotions of pleasure and grief, happiness and sadness, we determine that his work reflects an emotional mood.

If he moves from one aspect to the other, giving each one his total concentration, we realise that logical thinking is alternating with emotional feeling within him.

For the same style to maintain both aspects at the same time, like one branch of a tree carries leaves, flowers and fruits all together, or like the spirit permeates the body, or water goes through a green plant, is unknown in human speech.

Indeed, it is incompatible with human nature.

Who, then, can come up with a discourse that presents hard facts in an argument which is well accepted by the most intellectual of philosophers, and combines it with emotional pleasure that satisfies carefree poets?

All these are provided at the beginning or the end of its verses, or within them. Hence, the Qur’an is aptly described as the Book that:

“makes the skins of those who stand in awe of their Lord shiver; but in the end, their skins and hearts soften with the remembrance of God.”

(39: 23.)

“This is surely a decisive word; it is no frivolity.”

(86: 13-14.)

Let us now take two examples in support of what we have just said. The first is one that mixes logical proof with emotional address.

Verse 22 of Surah 21 may be given in translation as follows:

“Had there been in heaven or on earth any deities other than God, both would surely have fallen into ruin! Exalted is God, Lord of the Throne, above what they describe.”

Consider how these few words provide logical proof and excite amazement at the enormity of what is alleged. In fact, the evidence given brings together undoubted and fully accepted premises with a vivid description of the ruin that results from an inevitable conflict.

Consider how the verse opens with emphasis on obedience reflected in making the address to ‘believers’.

The element of grievance is then reduced between the families of the killer and the victim by using such words as, ‘his brother’, ‘in fairness’, and ‘in goodly manner.’

Then there is a reminder of God’s favours in the statement,

‘This is an alleviation from your Lord, and an act of His grace,’

which is then followed by a warning at the end of the verse. Now consider the subject matter of this verse. It is speaking about duties in a case of killing.

The same applies to all verses outlining legal provisions, including those speaking of strained marital relationships, divorce and other methods of separation.

In what book of law do we find such a spirit? In what language do we find such a mixture?

If anyone tries to make such combination, exerting every effort and straining himself as much as he can, all that he will come up with is a host of contradictions making his writing look like a garment that has been patched up after extensive tears.