Skip to content

Chapter 6: of my book. Romanes was in his last years a sick man

Text size

It was pathological debility. The first condition, however, of an
unbiassed, pure conception of reason is the normal condition of
its organ. His phronema was not in a normal condition.” _Haeckel_
will have to rank among those whose phronema is not in a normal
condition a good many other natural scientists; indeed, most of
those of higher standing.

Every one knows the celebrated name of _Louis Pasteur_ (died 1895), the discoverer of various bacteria, of whom _Huxley_ says that his manifold inventions have repaid to French industry the five billion francs indemnity which France had to pay to Germany after the war. It is equally well known that _Pasteur_ was to his death a staunch Catholic. “As his soul departed, he held in his hands a small cross of brass, and his last words were the confession of faith and hope” (La Science Catholique, X, 1896, 182). The story is told that one of his pupils asked him how he could be so religious after all his thinking and studying. _Pasteur_ replied: “Just because I have thought and studied, I remained religious like a man of Brittany, and had I thought and studied still more, I would be as religious as a woman of Brittany” (Revue des Questions Scientifiques, 1896, 385).

In the year 1859 great commotion was caused in the world of
thought by the appearance of _Darwin’s_ book on the “Origin of
Species.” It stated that the various species had gradually evolved
from most simple, primordial forms, and this by natural selection;
not, therefore, in the sense that the Creator had put the laws of
evolution into nature, but that in the struggle for existence the
survival of the fittest was the result of natural selection. Soon
it was claimed that man, too, in his rational life, was the result
of an evolution from animal stages; indeed, the whole universe had
arisen by the survival of the accidentally fittest. Evolution was
to be substituted for creation. In Germany, _E. Haeckel_ was the
man who considered it the task of his life to spread those ideas
as the established result of science. In our own time a belated
high tide is sweeping over the intellectual lowlands.

_Darwin_ himself was an agnostic; to begin with, he lacked all
religious training; his mother had died early, his father was a
free-thinker, and his education at school was rationalistic. The
doubt of all higher truths, and finally, according to his own
confession, the doubt respecting the power of reason, were his
companions through life. Yet he confesses: “... I never was an
atheist in the sense that I would deny the existence of God. I
think, in general (and more so the older I grow), but not at all
times, agnostic would be a more accurate description of my state
of mind” (_F. Darwin_, The Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, I,
304). Remarkable, however, is the following passage at the end of
_Darwin’s_ chief work: “It is a great belief, indeed, of the
Creator having breathed the embryo of all life surrounding us into
a few forms, or in but one single form, and an endless row of most
beautiful, most wonderful forms having evolved and are still
evolving from such a simple beginning, while our planet, following
the laws of gravitation, has steadily revolved in its circle.”
What _Darwin_ was lacking in a high degree was a philosophical
training of the mind.

In itself the _theory of evolution_, which asserts the variability
of species of animals and plants, is by no means opposed to
religious truths. It neither includes a necessity of assuming the
origin of the human soul from the essentially lower animal soul,
nor is it an atheistic theory. On the contrary, such an evolution
would most clearly certify to God’s wisdom in laying such a
wonderful basis for the progress of nature, provided this theory
could be proved by scientific facts; indeed, for an evolution
within narrow limits, circumstantial evidence is not lacking. That
there is no contradiction between the theory of evolution and the
fundamental tenets of Christian Creed is sufficiently shown by the
representatives of the theory. _Lamarck_ (died 1829) and
_Saint-Hilaire_ (died 1844), both of them representatives of the
theory of evolution long before _Darwin_, believed in God. There
were, prior to _Darwin_, two celebrated Catholic scientists, to
wit, _Ampère_ and _d’Omalius_, who had decidedly taken the part of
_Saint-Hilaire_ in his controversy with _Cuvier_. And also after
_Darwin_, a number of Christian and Catholic scientists have
contended for the idea of evolution, as, for instance, the pious
Swiss geologist, _Heer_; also _Quenstedt_, _Volkmann_, and the
American geologist, _Ch. Lyell_. More recently Catholic scientists
have expressed themselves in favour of the theory of evolution;
for instance, the noted zoölogist, _E. Wasmann_, and the
geologists _Lossen_ and _W. Waagen_, both of whom had to bring
bitter sacrifices in their career on account of their Catholic
faith.

Mature Science Respects Faith.

There have now passed in review the great natural scientists of the past, those living at the present time we shall leave to the judgment of the future. Is it true, then, that the foremost representatives of natural science had the conviction that science and faith are incompatible? No! On the contrary, most of them, and the greatest of them, have professed the fundamental truths of religion, or have even been devout Christians themselves.

“Theism in natural science, or, if you prefer, in natural
philosophy,” so says a modern scientist, “rests upon the basis of
a fundamental view which an old formula has clothed in words as
simple as they are sublime: ‘I believe in God, the Almighty
Creator of Heaven and of Earth.’ This confession does not cling to
theistic scientists like an egg-shell from the time of
unsophisticated childhood faith; it is the result of their entire
scientific thought and judgment. This conviction has been
professed by the most discerning natural scientists of all ages”
(_J. Reinke_, Naturwissenschaft und Religion).

Still it cannot be denied that some of the great scientists were of different mind, men like _R. von Virchow_, _Tyndall_, _A. von Humboldt_, _Du Bois-Reymond_. Nor shall it be disputed that, at the present time, a large number of men of average learning are on the side of unbelief. However, it must not be forgotten that unbelief is more frequently pretended to the outside world for appearance’s sake than it really dwells in the heart. This is, to a great extent, due to human respect, to public opinion, and the prevailing tendency of science. Then again, it must be remembered, that religiously minded scientists are often crowded out from the schools of science, with the natural result that the others predominate. Another point to be borne in mind is that the atheistic representatives of science are doing more to get themselves talked about; they are seeking more diligently the attention of public opinion. Men like _Tyndall_, _Vogt_, _Moleschott_, _Haeckel_, are known in larger circles than men like _Faraday_, _Maxwell_, _Ampère_, _Volta_, _Pasteur_, who, engaged in serious work, gave no time to making propaganda, as the others did by lecturing and popular writing for materialistic and monistic views in the name of science; they had no desire for the limelight of attention, and for posing as personified science.

All this does not change the fact that a very large number, indeed the largest number, of natural scientists of first rank were believers in God, or of pious, Christian mind. And that is of the greater importance. To do pioneer work in the field of science, to give impetus, to make progress, requires a penetrating and, at the same time, an independent mind, one that can rise above conventional commonplace. The fact that such men have largely been very religious, that they never belittled religion, weighs much more in the balance than the disparagement of inferior minds.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

These, then, are the often-cited witnesses for the incompatibility of science and faith. While only taken from the province of natural science, they may in our case be deemed representative of science in general. For natural science is generally regarded the most exact of all, and as the one which, more than any other, has the scientific spirit said to be incompatible with faith, and which, by many, is believed to have brought about in the modern world of thought the irreconcilable conflict between faith and science. This is not so! Such antagonism does _not_ exist. It cannot exist, because it is certain from the outset that both faith and science unfold the truth. Truth, however, can never be in conflict with truth. Nor has that antagonism ever existed historically in any of the great representatives of science. This antagonism is fictitious, it is false in its very essence. It is fabricated, either by distorting faith into a blind belief of absurd things, or else by distorting the human faculty of conception into infallible omniscience, or, the other extreme, by denying its faculty for a higher perception.

Faith has nothing to fear from a mature science that has arrived at the conviction of its cognitions, nor has it anything to fear from the great intellects who reason profoundly and seriously. But it has to fear mock-science and ignorance, and those small and superficial minds that aim at stretching their pseudo-knowledge to a gigantic infallibility.

THIRD SECTION. THE LIBERAL FREEDOM OF RESEARCH.

The Yoke of the Sun.

The gifted Danish writer and convert, _J. Jörgensen_, tells a parable which is pregnant with thought. “In the midst of a large rye-field,” he relates, “there stood a tall poplar, with other trees standing nearby. One day the poplar turned to the other trees and plants, and thus began to speak: ‘Sisters and brothers! To us, the glorious tribe of plants, belongs the earth, and everything upon it is dependent on us. We fertilize and feed ourselves, while beasts and men are fed and clothed by us. Indeed, the earth itself feeds upon our decaying leaves, upon our boughs and branches. There is only one power in the world our existence and growth is said to depend on; I refer to the Sun. I purposely used the words, “is said,” because I am sure that we do not depend on the Sun. This doctrine of sunlight being a necessity and a benefit to our plant life is nothing but a superstition, which at last ought to give way to enlightenment.’ Here the poplar paused. From some old oaks and elms in the neighbouring grove there came signs of disapproval, but the inconstant rye-field muttered assent. Thus encouraged and raising its voice the poplar continued: ‘I know well that there is a musty faction amongst us which clings obstinately to obsolete views. However, I have confidence in the independence of the younger generation of plants. They will realize the baseness of continuing to do homage to an absurd superstition. Our freeborn heads shall never bow to a yoke, not even to the yoke of the Sun. Down, therefore, with that yoke! And free from restraint there will arise a free and beautiful generation that will astonish the world.’ The poplar paused for the second time, and now the applause was long and loud, the fields cheered and the groves gave boisterous applause, so that the disapproval of a few old trees could not be heard. The following days looked upon an odd spectacle. At daybreak, when the Sun ascended and cast its first rays over the landscape, the flowers closed their cups and denied admission, as if asleep; the leaves no longer turned toward the Sun. But when the dispenser of warmth and light had gone down behind the hills, the gayly coloured flowers opened in the dim starlight, as if now the time had come for them to grow and blossom.

“Alas, how sad was the fate of these poor rebels! The rye soon began to languish till it lay prone on the ground; green leaves turned yellow, the flowers drooped, faded and withered. Then the plants began to grumble at the poplar. There it stood, its leaves a seared yellow. ‘What simpletons you are, brothers and sisters!’ it said. ‘Can’t you see that now you are much more like yourselves than under the rule of the Sun? Now you are refined, independent beings, well rid of the sluggish health of yore.’ There were some who still believed what the poplar said. ‘We are independent, we are unfettered,’ they clamoured, till the last spark of life was gone. Not long after the poplar, too, stood there with its branches bared,—it had died. The farmers, however, complained about the failing of the crop, and consoled themselves by hoping for better success the next year.”

A parable of deep meaning! It may serve as an illustration for the facts stated, and for those yet to be dealt with.

According to the Christian view, man is dependent on his Creator, from whom he receives life and light, and, in the same way, his mind depends on truth, by which it lives as the plants live, by the light and the warmth of the sun. To many generations this was self-evident, and withal they felt themselves free, because they looked for the freedom only of the dependent creature. And, keeping within these bounds, they had a cheerful existence in the happy possession of their faith, contented and serene in the possession of truth; their higher spiritual life throve and flourished, promoted by the Eternal Giver of light and warmth, who held out to them the prospect of completing their mental life in the contemplation of His eternal truth.

What the fathers deemed self-evident has now become a problem to their sons. What to their fathers was lofty and revered, the things to which they ascribed their ennoblement, have become to the sons an obstacle to free development. They have forgotten what they are. They demand independence and freest realization of their own individuality, in which they see the sole source of greatness and progress. In every dependence they perceive a hampering of their natural development.

We have in previous chapters become acquainted with this _liberal freedom_, particularly in reasoning and in scientific research, the child of the philosophy of humanitarianism and subjectivism, the philosophy that emancipates man from God’s rule, from the immutable religious truths, and which sees in this emancipation perfect freedom. We have listened to the arguments in behalf of this position, especially arguments against the duty to believe. All that we have set forth hitherto was to prove that such a freedom is not required. In the faithful adherence to God’s revelation and to His Church there is no degradation of reason, an exaltation rather; because to join in the eternal reason of its Creator is not bondage but a privilege.

We proceed. We shall demonstrate that this freedom is not only not required, but that it is entirely untenable and ruinous; that it is especially so because it is urged and demanded in the name of truth and proper order, in the name of uplift of human intellectual life, and of progress towards real enlightenment. We shall see that this freedom is not a liberation from mean fetters, but simply a revolt against the natural order, an apostasy from God and the supernatural which one shuns. Hence, not the natural and orderly development of the human individual, but a principle of negation under the garb of freedom, the severance of man from the sources of his greatness and strength, the perversion of true science; not the only admissible scientific method, but an altogether unscientific method. We shall show that it becomes thereby the principle of mental pauperization and decay, a principle of mental decadence, which in the sphere of idealism will reduce mankind to beggary. Thereby public testimony is given that in the midst of mankind there is needed an intelligent force that preserves, with conscientious earnestness and unyielding firmness, the intellectual inheritance of mankind, the ideal treasures of truth and of morality.

Comments

Log in to leave a comment.

The Freedom of ScienceChapter 6: of my book. Romanes was in his last years a sick man

0%11 min left in chapter