Francis Schaeffer noted concerning the IMPLICIT FAITH of Bertrand Russell:

I was lecturing at the University of St. Andrews one night and someone put forth the question, “If Christianity is so clear and reasonable then why doesn’t Bertrand Russell then become a Christian? Is it because he hasn’t discovered theology?”

It wasn’t a matter of studying theology that was involved but rather that he had too much faith. I was surrounded by humanists and you could hear the gasps. Bertrand Russell and faith; Isn’t this the man of reason? I pointed out that this is a man of high orthodoxy who will hold his IMPLICIT FAITH on the basis of his presuppositions no matter how many times he has to zig and zag because it doesn’t conform to the facts.

You must understand what the term IMPLICIT FAITH  means. In the old Roman Catholic Church when someone who became a Roman Catholic they had to promise implicit faith. That meant that you not only had to believe everything that Roman Catholic Church taught then but also everything it would teach in the future. It seems to me this is the kind of faith that these people have in the uniformity of natural causes in a closed system and they have accepted it no matter what it leads them into. 

I think that these men are men of a high level of IMPLICIT FAITH in their own set of presuppositions. Paul said (in Romans Chapter One) they won’t carry it to it’s logical conclusion even though they hold a great deal of the truth and they have revolted and they have set up a series of universals in themselves which they won’t transgress no matter if they conform to the facts or not.

Here below is the Romans passage that Schaeffer is referring to and verse 19 refers to what Schaeffer calls “the mannishness of man” and verse 20 refers to Schaeffer’s other point which is “the universe and it’s form.”

Romans 1:18-20 Amplified Bible :

18 For God’s [holy] wrath and indignation are revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who in their wickedness repress and hinder the truth and make it inoperative. 19 For that which is known about God is evident to them and made plain in their inner consciousness, because God [Himself] has shown it to them. 20 For ever since the creation of the world His invisible nature and attributes, that is, His eternal power and divinity, have been made intelligible and clearly discernible in and through the things that have been made (His handiworks). So [men] are without excuse [altogether without any defense or justification].

We can actually see the two points makes playing themselves out in Bertrand Russell’s own life.

[From a letter dated August 11, 1918 to Miss Rinder when Russell was 46]

It is so with all who spend their lives in the quest of something elusive, and yet omnipresent, and at once subtle and infinite. One seeks it in music, and the sea, and sunsets; at times I have seemed very near it in crowds when I have been feeling strongly what they were feeling; one seeks it in love above all. But if one lets oneself imagine one has found it, some cruel irony is sure to come and show one that it is not really found.
The outcome is that one is a ghost, floating through the world without any real contact. Even when one feels nearest to other people, something in one seems obstinately to belong to God and to refuse to enter into any earthly communion—at least that is how I should express it if I thought there was a God. It is odd isn’t it? I care passionately for this world, and many things and people in it, and yet…what is it all? There must be something more important, one feels, though I don’t believe there is. I am haunted—some ghost, from some extra-mundane region, seems always trying to tell me something that I am to repeat to the world, but I cannot understand the message. 

There was evidence during Bertrand Russell’s own life that indicated that the Bible was true and could be trusted.

Here is some below:

TRUTH AND HISTORY (chapter 5 of WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE HUMAN RACE?, under footnotes #97 and #98) written by Francis Schaeffer and C. Everett Koop

A common assumption among liberal scholars is that because the Gospels are theologically motivated writings–which they are–they cannot also be historically accurate. In other words, because Luke, say (when he wrote the Book of Luke and the Book of Acts), was convinced of the deity of Christ, this influenced his work to the point where it ceased to be reliable as a historical account. The assumption that a writing cannot be both historical and theological is false.

The experience of the famous classical archaeologist Sir William Ramsay illustrates this well. When he began his pioneer work of exploration in Asia Minor, he accepted the view then current among the Tubingen scholars of his day that the Book of Acts was written long after the events in Paul’s life and was therefore historically inaccurate. However, his travels and discoveries increasingly forced upon his mind a totally different picture, and he became convinced that Acts was minutely accurate in many details which could be checked.

Anyone interested in a 75 page book that goes in depth into Ramsay’s studies can take a look at the book entitled Sir William M. Ramsay:
Archaeologist and New Testament Scholar
A Survey of His Contribution to
the Study of the New Testament
Baker Studies in Biblical Archaeology
by
W. Ward Gasque
Foreword by F. F. Bruce

Here is the foreword

FOREWORD

 FOREWORDAlthough Sir William Ramsay’s life and mine overlapped by thirty years, and we belonged tothe same university, we never met. Seventeen years before I started my undergraduate careerin the University of Aberdeen, he had retired from the Chair of Humanity (Latin) there, andlived for the rest of his life in Edinburgh. Once, in my schoolboy days, I received indirectly apiece of advice from him―that I should beware of dissipating my intellectual energies, as thishad been the downfall of many promising young Scots. I have remembered his advice; I amnot so sure that I have followed it.Many of my teachers, at school and university, were pupils of Ramsay, products of theclassical discipline inculcated by him and his colleague John Harrower, Professor of Greek.(Harrower was inducted to the Greek Chair in the same year, 1886, as Ramsay becameprofessor of Humanity; but while Ramsay retired in 1911 at the then inordinately early age ofsixty, Harrower continued in the Greek Chair for forty-five years in all, until the infirmities ofold age compelled him to relinquish it). Of Ramsay and Harrower, two of their distinguishedpupils have written: No two men could be more unlike; undergraduate rumour had it, many years afterwards, that they were personally unacquainted. Yet, all unconsciously, they made an ideal combination―how effective many of us realized only long afterwards―and between them they built up a school of classical learning which had no equal, outside Oxford and Cambridge, in Britain. Ramsay’s contribution to the Aberdeen Classical School was the inspiration of a gifted maker of knowledge; Harrower’s was that of a great teacher. What either lacked the other was there to supply. When Ramsay translated di deaeque omnes as “all ye inhabitants of heaven, male and female,” we felt that it didn’t really matter, for we could have told him, as Grecians, how those things were clone. When Harrower, for he too was human, began to make Pericles’ Funeral Speech look like a Greek Version gone wrong, we kept our heads, for Ramsay had taught us how to handle a document.1Another of Ramsay’s pupils who has recently given some account of his performance as ateacher (the late Dr. Alexander Ross, until recently Associate Editor of The EvangelicalQuarterly) describes the occasion when Ramsay’s knighthood was announced.[p.8] The news of the conferring of this honour reached us one morning in November 1906 and that morning the Latin classroom was crowded, all the available sitting and standing space being occupied, most of those present having forsaken their proper classes for the occasion. When the professor entered, there was a burst of vociferous cheering, handkerchiefs and note books being waved wildly in the air. When the deafening noise had at last been stilled, he was invited to make a speech. According to a newspaper report which I have before me, he said: “Ladies’ and gentlemen (loud cheers), I am afraid I am detaining a large number of you from your classes (cries of ‘No, no,’ and ‘not at all’). I and glad to see that for once you seem to enjoy the atmosphere of the Humanity classroom (cheers and cries of ‘Oh, oh, Sir William’)―as I am afraid that on many occasions it has been a place of terror (loud cries of ‘No’)―a vale of tears, through which you had to pass on your pilgrimage through this University.” Later on, there was an allusion to the students who, by carving their names on1 W. M. Calder and J. Fraser, Aberdeen University Review, March 1934, pp. 104 f.

W. Ward Gasque, Sir William M. Ramsay: Archaeologist and New Testament Scholar. A Survey of HisContribution to the Study of the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1966. pp.95. the desks, planned to leave “a memorial of their former presence on these benches for future generations to discover.” At this point a voice called out “excavations!”―a manifest reference to far more important excavations in Asia Minor.2Mr. Gasque’s study, however, is concerned with Ramsay’s contributions to New Testamentstudy. These were many-sided and valuable. He had received no biblical or theologicaltraining, but he acquired, by flint of his painstaking archaeological research coupled with hismastery of first-century literature, an unrivalled knowledge of the historical and geographicalbackground of the apostolic age, especially where Asia Minor was concerned, and he usedthat knowledge effectively to illuminate the New Testament. The nineteenth-century Ramsaywas a very great man; if even then he was inclined to overstate his case, at least he had a goodcase to overstate. The twentieth-century Ramsay suffered in his scholarly reputation becausehe allowed himself to be persuaded by Sir William Robertson Nicoll to don the mantle of apopular apologist. That Ramsay was no “fundamentalist” is evident to any careful reader ofthat section of St. Paul the Traveller which deals with the first five chapters of Acts, but thissection comes near the end of the book, and probably a large proportion of his devout readingpublic never got so far. It is no disgrace for a scholar to obtain a reputation as a defender ofthe faith, but when this reputation is gained by covering reams of paper with apologeticmaterial, spreading the factual content out as thin as possible to make it go farther, it is apt tobe gained at the expense of his reputation for pure scholarship. The twentieth-century Ramsaytended to be dismissed as unworthy of serious attention by many Neutestamentler who nevermade themselves acquainted with the solid achievements of the nineteenth-century Ramsay,which underlay his[p.9]more popular work of later years. Whatever may be thought of the superstructure, thefoundation was always sound, and even in his most ill-considered work one constantly comesacross flashes of insight and original contributions to knowledge which one would notwillingly have missed. A quarter of a century after his death the time is opportune for areassessment of his work, and I am glad to commend Mr. Gasque’s reassessment to readerswho have a concern for New Testament scholarship. F. F. Bruce2 A. Ross, Monthly Record of the Free Church of Scotland, April 1962, p. 69.

F. F. Bruce