No class of works is received with more
suspicion, I had almost said derision, than that which deals with Science and
Religion. Science is tired of reconciliations between two things which never
should have been contrasted; Religion is offended by the patronage of an ally
which it professes not to need; and the critics have rightly discovered that,
in most cases where Science is either pitted against Religion or fused with it,
there is some fatal misconception to begin with as to the scope and province of
either. But although no initial protest, probably, will save this work from the
unhappy reputation of its class, the thoughtful mind will perceive that the
fact of its subject-matter being Law--a property peculiar neither to Science
nor to Religion--at once places it on a somewhat different footing.
The real problem I have set myself may be stated
in a sentence. Is there not reason to believe that many of the Laws of the
Spiritual World, hitherto regarded as occupying, an entirely separate province,
are simply the Laws of the Natural World? Can we identify the Natural Laws, or
any one of them, in the Spiritual sphere? That vague lines everywhere run
through the Spiritual World is already beginning to be recognised. Is it
possible to link them with those great lines running through the visible
universe which we call the Natural Laws, or are they fundamentally distinct? In
a word, Is the Supernatural natural or unnatural?
I may, perhaps, be allowed to answer these
questions in the form in which they have answered themselves to myself. And I
must apologise at the outset for personal references which, but for the
clearness they may lend to the statement, I would surely avoid.
It has been my privilege for some years to
address regularly two very different audiences on two very different themes. On
week days I have lectured to a class of students on the Natural Sciences, and
on Sundays to an audience consisting for the most part of working men on
subjects of a moral and religious character. I cannot say that this collocation
ever appeared as a difficulty to myself, but to certain of my friends it was
more than a problem. It was solved to me, however, at first, by what then
seemed the necessities of the case-- I must keep the two departments entirely
by themselves. They lay at opposite poles of thought; and for a time I
succeeded in keeping the Science and the Religion shut off from one another in
two separate compartments of my mind. But gradually the wall of partition
showed symptoms of giving way. The two fountains of knowledge also slowly began
to overflow, and finally their waters met and mingled. The great change was in
the compartment which held the Religion. It was not that the well there was
dried; still less that the fermenting waters were washed away by the flood of
Science. The actual contents remained the same. But the crystals of former
doctrine were dissolved; and as they precipitated themselves once more in
definite forms, I observed that the Crystalline System was changed. New
channels also for outward expression opened, and some of the old closed up; and
I found the truth running out to my audience on the Sundays by the weekday
outlets. In other words, the subject-matter Religion had taken on the method of
expression of Science, and I discovered myself enunciating Spiritual Law in the
exact terms of Biology and Physics.
Now this was not simply a scientific colouring
given to Religion, the mere freshening of the theological air with natural
facts and illustrations. It was an entire re-casting of truth. And when I came
seriously to consider what it involved, I saw, or seemed to see, that it meant
essentially the introduction of Natural Law into the Spiritual World. It was
not, I repeat, that new and detailed analogies of Phenomena rose into
view--although material for Parable lies unnoticed and unused on the field of
recent Science in inexhaustible profusion. But Law has a still grander function
to discharge towards Religion than Parable. There is a deeper unity between the
two Kingdoms than the analogy of their Phenomena--a unity which the poet's
vision, more quick than the theologian's, has already dimly seen :--
"And verily many thinkers of this age,
Aye, many Christian teachers, half in heaven,
Are wrong in just my sense, who understood
Our natural world too insularly, as if
No spiritual counterpart completed it,
Consummating its meaning, rounding all
To justice and perfection, line by line,
Form by form, nothing single nor alone,
The great below clenched by the great above."[1]
The function of Parable in religion is to exhibit
"form by form." Law undertakes the profounder task of comparing "line by line."
Thus Natural Phenomena serve mainly an illustrative function in Religion.
Natural Law, on the other hand, could it be traced in the Spiritual World,
would have an important scientific value--it would offer Religion a new
credential. The effect of the introduction of Law among the scattered Phenomena
of Nature has simply been to make Science, to transform knowledge into eternal
truth. The same crystallising touch is needed in Religion. Can it be said that
the Phenomena of the Spiritual World are other than scattered? Can we shut our
eyes to the fact that the religious opinions of mankind are in a state of flux?
And when we regard the uncertainty of current beliefs, the war of creeds, the
havoc of inevitable as well as of idle doubt, the reluctant abandonment of
early faith by those who would cherish it longer if they could, is it not plain
that the one thing thinking men are waiting for is the introduction of Law
among the Phenomena of the Spiritual World? When that comes we shall offer to
such men a truly scientific theology. And the Reign of Law will transform the
whole Spiritual World as it has already transformed the Natural World.
I confess that even when in the first dim vision,
the organizing hand of Law moved among the unordered truths of my Spiritual
World, poor and scantily-furnished as it was, there seemed to come over it the
beauty of a transfiguration. The change was as great as from the old chaotic
world of Pythagoras to the symmetrical and harmonious universe of Newton. My
Spiritual World before was a chaos of facts; my Theology, a Pythagorean system
trying to make the best of Phenomena apart from the idea of Law. I make no
charge against Theology in general. I speak of my own. And I say that I saw it
to be in many essential respects centuries behind every department of Science I
knew. It was the one region still unpossessed by Law. I saw then why men of
Science distrust Theology; why those who have learned to look upon Law as
Authority grow cold to it--it was the Great Exception.
I have alluded to the genesis of the idea in my
own mind partly for another reason--to show its naturalness. Certainly I never
premeditated anything to myself so objectionable and so unwarrantable in
itself, as either to read Theology into Science or Science into Theology.
Nothing could be more artificial than to attempt this on the speculative side;
and it has been a substantial relief to me throughout that the idea rose up
thus in the course of practical work and shaped itself day by day
unconsciously. It might be charged, nevertheless, that I was all the time,
whether consciously or unconsciously, simply reading my Theology into my
Science. And as this would hopelessly vitiate the conclusions arrived at, I
must acquit myself at least of the intention. Of nothing have I been more
fearful throughout than of making Nature parallel with my own or with any
creed. The only legitimate questions one dare put to Nature are those which
concern universal human good and the Divine interpretation of things. These I
conceive may be there actually studied at first-hand, and before their purity
is soiled by human touch. We have Truth in Nature as it came from God. And it
has to be read with the same unbiassed mind, the same open eye, the same faith,
and the same reverence as all other Revelation. All that is found there,
whatever its place in Theology, whatever its orthodoxy or heterodoxy, whatever
its narrowness or its breadth, we are bound to accept as Doctrine from which on
the lines of Science there is no escape.
When this presented itself to me as a method, I
felt it to be due to it--were it only to secure, so far as that was possible,
that no former bias should interfere with the integrity of the results--to
begin again at the beginning and reconstruct my Spiritual World step by step.
The result of that inquiry, so far as its expression in systematic form is
concerned, I have not given in this book. To reconstruct a Spiritual Religion,
or a department of Spiritual Religion--for this is all the method can pretend
to--on the lines of Nature would be an attempt from which one better equipped
in both directions might well be pardoned if he shrank. My object at present is
the humbler one of venturing a simple contribution to practical Religion along
the lines indicated. What Bacon predicates of the Natural World, Natura enim
non nisi parendo vincitur, is also true, as Christ had already told us, of
the Spiritual World. And I present a few samples of the religious teaching
referred to formerly as having been prepared under the influence of scientific
ideas in the hope that they may be useful first of all in this direction.
I would, however, carefully point out that though
their unsystematic arrangement here may create the impression that these papers
are merely isolated readings in Religion pointed by casual scientific truths,
they are organically connected by a single principle. Nothing could be more
false both to Science and to Religion than attempts to adjust the two spheres
by making out ingenious points of contact in detail. The solution of this great
question of conciliation, if one may still refer to a problem so gratuitous,
must be general rather than particular. The basis in a common principle--the
Continuity of Law--can alone save specific applications from ranking as mere
coincidences, or exempt them from the reproach of being a hybrid between two
things which must be related by the deepest affinities or remain for ever
separate.
To the objection that even a basis in Law is no
warrant for so great a trespass as the intrusion into another field of thought
of the principles of Natural Science, I would reply that in this I find I am
following a lead which in other departments has not only been allowed but has
achieved results as rich as they were unexpected. What is the Physical Politic
of Mr. Walter Bagehot but the extension of Natural Law to the Political World?
What is the Biological Sociology of Mr. Herbert Spencer but the application of
Natural Law to the Social World? Will it be charged that the splendid
achievements of such thinkers are hybrids between things which Nature has meant
to remain apart? Nature usually solves such problems for herself. Inappropriate
hybridism is checked by the Law of Sterility. Judged by this great Law these
modern developments of our knowledge stand uncondemned. Within their own sphere
the results of Mr. Herbert Spencer are far from sterile--the application of
Biology to Political Economy is already revolutionizing the Science. If the
introduction of Natural Law into the Social sphere is no violent contradiction
but a genuine and permanent contribution, shall its further extension to the
Spiritual sphere be counted an extravagance? Does not the Principle of
Continuity demand its application in every direction? To carry it as a working
principle into so lofty a region may appear impracticable. Difficulties lie on
the threshold which may seem, at first sight, insurmountable. But obstacles to
a true method only test its validity. And he who honestly faces the task may
find relief in feeling that whatever else of crudeness and imperfection mar it,
the attempt is at least in harmony with the thought and movement of his
time.
That these papers were not designed to appear in
a collective form, or indeed to court the more public light at all, needs no
disclosure. They are published out of regard to the wish of known and unknown
friends by whom, when in a fugitive form, they were received with so curious an
interest as to make one feel already that there are minds which such forms of
truth may touch. In making the present selection, partly from manuscript, and
partly from articles already published, I have been guided less by the wish to
constitute the papers a connected series than to exhibit the application of the
principle in various directions. They will be found, therefore, of unequal
interest and value, according to the standpoint from which they are regarded.
Thus some are designed with a directly practical and popular bearing, others
being more expository, and slightly apologetic in tone. The risks of combining
two objects so very different is somewhat serious. But, for the reason named,
having taken this responsibility, the only compensation I can offer is to
indicate which of the papers incline to the one side or to the other.
"Degeneration," "Growth," "Mortification," "Conformity to Type,"
"Semi-Parasitism," and "Parasitism" belong to the more practical order; and
while one or two are intermediate, "Biogenesis," " Death," and " Eternal Life "
may be offered to those who find the atmosphere of the former uncongenial. It
will not disguise itself, however, that, owing to the circumstances in which
they were prepared, all the papers are more or less practical in their aim; so
that to the merely philosophical reader there is little to be offered
except--and that only with the greatest diffidence--the Introductory
chapter.
In the Introduction, which the general reader may
do well to ignore, I have briefly stated the case for Natural Law in the
Spiritual World. The extension of Analogy to Laws, or rather the extension of
the Laws themselves, so far as known to me, is new; and I cannot hope to have
escaped the mistakes and misadventures of a first exploration in an unsurveyed
land. So general has been the survey that I have not even paused to define
specifically to what departments of the Spiritual World exclusively the
principle is to be applied. The danger of making a new principle apply too
widely inculcates here the utmost caution. One thing is certain, and I state it
pointedly, the application of Natural Law to the Spiritual World has decided
and necessary limits. And if elsewhere with undue enthusiasm I seem to magnify
the principle at stake, the exaggeration-- like the extreme amplification of
the moon's disc when near the horizon--must be charged to that almost necessary
aberration of light which distorts every new idea while it is yet slowly
climbing to its zenith.
In what follows the Introduction, except in the
setting, there is nothing new. I trust there is nothing new. When I began to
follow out these lines, I had no idea where they would lead me. I was prepared,
nevertheless, at least for the time, to be loyal to the method throughout, and
share with Nature whatever consequences might ensue. But in almost every case,
after stating what appeared to be the truth in words gathered directly from the
lips of Nature, I was sooner or later startled by a certain similarity in the
general idea to something I had heard before, and this often developed in a
moment, and when I was least expecting it, into recognition of some familiar
article of faith. I was not watching for this result. I did not begin by
tabulating the doctrines, as I did the Laws of Nature, and then proceed with
the attempt to pair them. The majority of them seemed at first too far removed
from the natural world even to suggest this. Still less did I begin with
doctrines and work downwards to find their relations in the natural sphere. It
was the opposite process entirely. I ran up the Natural Law as far as it would
go, and the appropriate doctrine seldom even loomed in sight till I had reached
the top. Then it burst into view in a single moment.
I can scarcely now say whether in those moments I
was more overcome with thankfulness that Nature was so like Revelation, or more
filled with wonder that Revelation was so like Nature. Nature, it is true, is a
part of Revelation--a much greater part doubtless than is yet believed--and one
could have anticipated nothing but harmony here. But that a derived Theology,
in spite of the venerable verbiage which has gathered round it, should be at
bottom and in all cardinal respects so faithful a transcript of "the truth as
it is in Nature" came as a surprise and to me at least as a rebuke. How, under
the rigid necessity of incorporating in its system much that seemed nearly
unintelligible, and much that was barely credible, Theology has succeeded so
perfectly in adhering through good report and ill to what in the main are truly
the lines of Nature, awakens a new admiration for those who constructed and
kept this faith. But however nobly it has held its ground, Theology must feel
to-day that the modern world calls for a further proof. Nor will the best
Theology resent this demand; it also demands it. Theology is searching on every
hand for another echo of the Voice of which Revelation also is the echo, that
out of the mouths of two witnesses its truths should be established. That other
echo can only come from Nature. Hitherto its voice has been muffled. But now
that Science has made the world around articulate, it speaks to Religion with a
twofold purpose. In the first place it offers to corroborate Theology, in the
second to purify it.
If the removal of suspicion from Theology is of
urgent moment, not less important is the removal of its adulterations. These
suspicions, many of them at least, are new; in a sense they mark progress. But
the adulterations are the artificial accumulations of centuries of uncontrolled
speculation. They are the necessary result of the old method and the warrant
for its revision--they mark the impossibility of progress without the guiding
and restraining hand of Law. The felt exhaustion of the former method, the want
of corroboration for the old evidence, the protest of reason against the
monstrous overgrowths which conceal the real lines of truth, these summon us to
the search for a surer and more scientific system. With truths of the
theological order, with dogmas which often depend for their existence on a
particular exegesis, with propositions which rest for their evidence upon a
balance of probabilities, or upon the weight of authority; with doctrines which
every age and nation may make or unmake, which each sect may tamper with, and
which even the individual may modify for himself, a second court of appeal has
become an imperative necessity.
Science, therefore, may yet have to be called
upon to arbitrate at some points between conflicting creeds. And while there
are some departments of Theology where its jurisdiction cannot be sought, there
are others in which Nature may yet have to define the contents as well as the
limits of belief.
What I would desire especially is a thoughtful
consideration of the method. The applications ventured upon here may be
successful or unsuccessful. But they would more than satisfy me if they
suggested a method to others whose less clumsy hands might work it out more
profitably. For I am convinced of the fertility of such a method at the present
time. It is recognised by all that the younger and abler minds of this age find
the most serious difficulty in accepting or retaining the ordinary forms of
belief. Especially is this true of those whose culture is scientific. And the
reason is palpable. No man can study modern Science without a change coming
over his view of truth. What impresses him about Nature is its solidity. He is
there standing upon actual things, among fixed laws. And the integrity of the
scientific method so seizes him that all other forms of truth begin to appear
comparatively unstable. He did not know before that any form of truth could so
hold him; and the immediate effect is to lessen his interest in all that stands
on other bases. This he feels in spite of himself; he struggles against it in
vain; and he finds perhaps to his alarm that he is drifting fast into what
looks at first like pure Positivism. This is an inevitable result of the
scientific training. It is quite erroneous to suppose that science ever
overthrows Faith, if by that is implied that any natural truth can oppose
successfully any single spiritual truth. Science cannot overthrow Faith; but it
shakes it. Its own doctrines, grounded in Nature, are so certain, that the
truths of Religion, resting to most men on Authority, are felt to be strangely
insecure. The difficulty, therefore, which men of Science feel about Religion
is real and inevitable, and in so far as Doubt is a conscientious tribute to
the inviolability of Nature it is entitled to respect.
None but those who have passed through it can
appreciate the radical nature of the change wrought by Science in the whole
mental attitude of its disciples. What they really cry out for in Religion is a
new standpoint--a standpoint like their own. The one hope, therefore, for
Science is more Science. Again, to quote Bacon--we shall hear enough from the
moderns by-and-by--"This I dare affirm in knowledge of Nature, that a little
natural philosophy, and the first entrance into it, doth dispose the opinion to
atheism; but, on the other side, much natural philosophy, and wading deep into
it, will bring about men's minds to religion."[2]
The application of similia similibus
curantur was never more in point. If this is a disease, it is the disease
of Nature, and the cure is more Nature. For what is this disquiet in the
breasts of men but the loyal fear that Nature is being violated? Men must
oppose with every energy they possess what seems to them to oppose the eternal
course of things. And the first step in their deliverance must be, not to
"reconcile" Nature and Religion, but to exhibit Nature in Religion. Even to
convince them that there is no controversy between Religion and Science is
insufficient. A mere flag of truce, in the nature of the case, is here
impossible; at least, it is only possible so long as neither party is sincere.
No man who knows the splendour of scientific achievement or cares for it, no
man who feels the solidity of its method or works with it, can remain neutral
with regard to Religion. He must either extend his method into it, or, if that
is impossible, oppose it to the knife. On the other hand, no one who knows the
content of Christianity, or feels the universal need of a Religion, can stand
idly by while the intellect of his age is slowly divorcing itself from it. What
is required, therefore, to draw Science and Religion together again--for they
began the centuries hand in hand--is the disclosure of the naturalness of the
supernatural. Then, and not till then, will men see how true it is, that to be
loyal to all of Nature, they must be loyal to the part defined as Spiritual. No
science contributes to another without receiving a reciprocal benefit. And even
as the contribution of Science to Religion is the vindication of the
naturalness of the Supernatural, so the gift of Religion to Science is the
demonstration of the supernaturalness of the Natural. Thus, as the Supernatural
becomes slowly Natural, will also the Natural become slowly Supernatural, until
in the impersonal authority of Law men everywhere recognise the Authority of
God.
To those who already find themselves fully
nourished on the older forms of truth, I do not commend these pages. They will
find them superfluous. Nor is there any reason why they should mingle with
light which is already clear the distorting rays of a foreign expression.
But to those who are feeling their way to a
Christian life, haunted now by a sense of instability in the foundations of
their faith, now brought to bay by specific doubt at one point raising, as all
doubt does, the question for the whole, I would hold up a light which has often
been kind to me. There is a sense of solidity about a Law of Nature which
belongs to nothing else in the world. Here, at last, amid all that is shifting,
is one thing sure; one thing outside ourselves, unbiassed, unprejudiced,
uninfluenced by like or dislike, by doubt or fear; one thing that holds on its
way to me eternally, incorruptible, and undefiled. This, more than anything
else, makes one eager to see the Reign of Law traced in the Spiritual Sphere.
And should this seem to some to offer only a surer, but not a higher Faith;
should the better ordering of the Spiritual World appear to satisfy the
intellect at the sacrifice of reverence, simplicity, or love; especially should
it seem to substitute a Reign of Law and a Lawgiver for a Kingdom of Grace and
a Personal God, I will say, with Browning,--
" I spoke as I saw.
I report, as a man may of God's work--all's
Love, yet all's Law.
Now I lay down the judgeship He lent me. Each
faculty tasked,
To perceive Him, has gained an abyss where a
dewdrop was asked." [1] Aurora Leigh
