In spite, then, of all the casuistry of de l'Epinois and all the special pleadings of M. Martin, the sturdy common-sense of the world proved too strong; and now comes to view the most astounding defense of all—that hinted at by Viscount de Bonald and developed in the Dublin Review. This was nothing less than an attempt to retreat under a charge of deception against the Almighty himself. The argument is as follows: "But it may well be doubted whether the Church did retard the progress of scientific truth. What retarded it, was the circumstance that God has thought fit to express many texts of Scripture in words which have every appearance of denying the earth's motion. But it is God who did this, not the Church; and, moreover, since He thought fit so to act as to retard the progress of scientific truth, it would be little to her discredit even if it were true that she had followed His example."
With this, the retreat of the army of apologists is complete; further than this, through mazes of sophistry and into depths of contempt, they could not go. 67
Do not understand me here as casting blame on the Roman Church at large. It must in fairness be said, that some of its best men tried to stop this great mistake. Even Pope Urban himself would have been glad at one time to stop it; but the current was too strong, and he weakly yielded, becoming a bitter persecutor. 68 The whole of the civilized world was at fault, Protestant as well as Catholic, and not any particular part of it. It was not the fault of religion; it was the fault of the short-sighted views which narrow-minded, loud-voiced men are ever prone to mix in with religion, and to insist are religion. 69
But the losses to the earth in the long war against Galileo were followed by losses not less unfortunate in other quarters. There was then in Europe one of the greatest thinkers ever given to mankind—Réné Descartes. Mistaken though many of his theories were, they were fruitful in truths. The scientific warriors had stirred new life in him, and he was working over and summing up in his mighty mind all the researches of his time; the result must make an epoch in history. His aim was to combine all knowledge and thought into a "Treatise on the World." His earnestness he proved by the eleven years which he gave to the study of anatomy alone. Petty persecution he had met often, but the fate of Galileo robbed him of all hope, of all energy; the battle seemed lost; he gave up his great plan forever. 70
But champions pressed on. Campanella, full of vagaries as he was, wrote his Apologia pro Galileo, though for that and other heresies, religious and political, he seven times underwent torture. 71
And Kepler comes. He leads science on to greater victories. Kopernik, great as he was, could not disentangle his scientific reasoning entirely from the theological bias. The doctrines of Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas as to the necessary superiority of the circle, had vitiated the minor features of his system, and left breaches in it through which the enemy was not slow to enter. Kepler sees these errors, and, by wonderful genius in insight and vigor in thought, he brings to the world the three laws which bear his name, and this fortress of science is complete. He thinks and speaks as one inspired. His battle is severe; he is sometimes abused, sometimes ridiculed, sometimes imprisoned. Protestants in Styria and at Tübingen, Catholics at Rome, press upon him; 72 but Newton, Halley, Bradley, and the other great leaders follow, and to science remains the victory.
And yet the war did not wholly end. During the seventeenth century, in all France, after all the splendid proofs added by Kepler, no one dared openly teach the Copernican theory, and Cassini, the great astronomer, never declared it. 73 In 1672 Father Riccioli, a Jesuit, declared that there were precisely forty-nine arguments for the Copernican theory and seventy-seven against it; so that there remained twenty-eight reasons for preferring the orthodox theory. 74 Toward the end of the seventeenth century, after the demonstration of Sir Isaac Newton, even Bossuet, the "eagle of Meaux," among the loftiest of religious thinkers, declared for the Ptolemaic theory as the Scriptural theory; 75 and in 1724 John Hutchinson published in England his Moses's Principia, maintaining that the Hebrew Scriptures are a perfect system of natural philosophy, and are opposed to the Newtonian theory of gravitation. 76 In 1746 Boscovich, the great mathematician of the Jesuits, used these words: "As for me, full of respect for the Holy Scriptures and the decree of the Holy Inquisition, I regard the earth as immovable; nevertheless, for simplicity in explanation, I will argue as if the earth moves, for it is proved that of the two hypotheses the appearances favor that idea." 77 And even at a date far within our own nineteenth century, the authorities of the Spanish universities vigorously excluded the Newtonian system, and the greatest of them all, the University of Salamanca, held it under the ban until a very recent period. 78
Nor has the opposition failed even in our own time. On the 5th of May, 1829, a great multitude assembled at Warsaw, to do honor to the memory of Kopernik, and to unveil Thorwaldsen's statue of him.
Kopernik had lived a pious, Christian life. He was well known for unostentatious Christian charity. With his religious belief no fault had ever been found; he was a canon of the church of Frauenberg, and over his grave had been written the most touching of Christian epitaphs.
Naturally, then, the people expected a religious service. All was understood to be arranged for it. The procession marched to the church and waited. The hour passed, and no priest appeared; none could be induced to appear. Kopernik, simple, charitable, pious, one of the noblest gifts of God to the service of religion as well as science, was still held to be a reprobate. Five years after that, his book was still standing on the Index of books prohibited to Christians; and although, in 1757, under Benedict XIV., the Congregation of the Index had secretly allowed the ideas of Kopernik and Galileo to be simply tolerated, it was not until 1822, as we have seen, that Pius VII. allowed the publishing of them at Rome; and not until 1835 did the prohibition of them fully disappear from the Index. 79
The Protestantism of England was little better. In 1772 sailed the famous English expedition for scientific discovery under Cook. The greatest by far of all the scientific authorities chosen to accompany it was Dr. Priestley. Sir Joseph Banks had especially invited him; but the clergy of Oxford and Cambridge intervened. Priestley was considered unsound in his views of the Trinity; it was suspected that this would vitiate his astronomical observations; he was rejected, and the expedition crippled. 80
Nor has the warfare against dead champions of science been carried on only by the older Church.
On the 10th of May, 1859, was buried Alexander von Humboldt. His labors were among the greatest glories of the century, and his funeral one of the most imposing that Berlin had ever seen; among those who honored themselves by their presence was the prince regent—the present emperor. But of the clergy it was observed that none were present save the officiating clergyman and a few regarded as unorthodox. 81
Nor have attempts to renew the battle been wanting in these latter days. The attempt in the Church of England, in 1864, to fetter science, which was brought to ridicule by Herschel, Bowring, and De Morgan; the Lutheran assemblage at Berlin, in 1868, to protest against "science falsely so called," in the midst of which stood Pastor Knak denouncing the Copernican theory; the "Syllabus," the greatest mistake of the Roman Church, are all examples of this. 82
And now, what has been won by either party in this long and terrible war? The party which would subordinate the methods and aims of science to those of theology, though in general obedient to deep convictions, had given to Christianity a series of the worst blows it had ever received. They had made large numbers of the best men in Europe hate it. Why did Ricetto and Bruno and Vanini, when the crucifix was presented to them in their hours of martyrdom, turn from that blessed image with loathing? 83 Simply because Christianity had been made to them identical with the most horrible oppression of the mind.
Worse than that, the well-meaning defenders of the faith had wrought into the very fibre of the European heart that most unfortunate of all ideas, the idea that there is a necessary antagonism between science and religion. Like the landsman who lashes himself to the anchor of the sinking ship, they had attached the fundamental doctrines of Christianity, by the strongest cords of logic which they could spin, to these mistaken ideas in science, and the advance of knowledge had wellnigh engulfed them.
On the other hand, what had science done for religion? Simply this: Kopernik, escaping persecution only by death; Giordano Bruno, burned alive as a monster of impiety; Galileo, imprisoned and humiliated as the worst of misbelievers; Kepler, hunted alike by Protestant and Catholic, had given to religion great new foundations, great new, ennobling conceptions, a great new revelation of the might of God.
Under the old system we have that princely astronomer, Alfonso of Castile, seeing the poverty of the Ptolemaic system, yet knowing no other, startling Europe with the blasphemy that if he had been present at creation he could have suggested a better ordering of the heavenly bodies. Under the new system you have Kepler, filled with a religious spirit, exclaiming, "I do think the thoughts of God." 84 The difference in religious spirit between these two men marks the conquest made in this, even by science, for religion.
But we cannot leave the subject of astronomy without noticing the most recent warfare. Especially interesting is it because at one period the battle seemed utterly lost, and then was won beautifully, thoroughly, by a legitimate advance in scientific knowledge. I speak of the Nebular Hypothesis.
The sacred writings of the Jews which we have inherited speak literally of the creation of the heavenly bodies by direct intervention, and for the convenience of the earth. This was the view of the Fathers of the Church, and was transmitted through the great doctors in theology.
More than that, it was crystallized in art. So have I seen, over the portal of the Cathedral of Freiburg, a representation of the Almighty making and placing numbers of wafer-like suns, moons, and stars; and at the centre of all, platter-like and largest of all, the earth. 85 The lines on the Creator's face show that He is obliged to contrive; the lines of his muscles show that He is obliged to toil. Naturally, then, did sculptors and painters of the mediæval and early modern period represent the Almighty as weary after labor, and enjoying dignified repose.
These ideas, more or less gross in their accompaniments, passed into the popular creed of the modern period.
But about the close of the last century, Bruno having guessed the fundamental fact of the nebular hypothesis, and Kant having reasoned out its foundation idea, Laplace developed it, showing the reason for supposing that our own solar system, in its sun, planets, satellites, with their various motions, distances, and magnitudes, is a natural result of the diminishing heat of a nebulous mass—a result obeying natural laws.
There was an outcry at once against the "atheism" of the scheme. The war raged fiercely. Laplace claimed that there were in the heavens many nebulous patches yet in the gaseous form, and pointed them out. He showed by laws of physics and mathematical demonstration that his hypothesis accounted in a most striking manner for the great body of facts, and, despite clamor, was gaining ground, when the improved telescopes resolved some of the patches of nebulous matter into multitudes of stars.
The opponents of the nebular hypothesis were overjoyed; they sang pæans to astronomy, because, as they said, it had proved the truth of Scripture. They had jumped to the conclusion that all nebulæ must be alike—that if some are made up of systems of stars, all must be so made up; that none can be masses of attenuated gaseous matter, because some are not.
Science, for a time, halted. The accepted doctrine became this: that the only reason why all the nebulæ are not resolved into distinct stars is because our telescopes are not sufficiently powerful. But in time came that wonderful discovery of the spectroscope and spectrum analysis, and this was supplemented by Fraunhofer's discovery that the spectrum of an ignited gaseous body is discontinuous, with interrupting lines; and this, in 1846, by Draper's discovery that the spectrum of an ignited solid is continuous, with no interrupting lines. And now the spectroscope was turned upon the nebulæ, and about one-third of them were found to be gaseous.
Again the nebular hypothesis comes forth stronger than ever. The beautiful experiment of Plateau on the rotation of a fluid globe comes in to strengthen if not to confirm it. But what was likely to be lost in this? Simply a poor conception of the universe. What to be gained? A far more worthy idea of that vast power which works in the universe, in all things by law, and in none by caprice. 86
CHEMISTRY AND PHYSICS
The great series of battles to which I next turn with you were fought on those fields occupied by such sciences as Chemistry and Natural Philosophy.
Even before these sciences were out of their childhood, while yet they were tottering mainly toward childish objects and by childish steps, the champions of that same old mistaken conception of rigid Scriptural interpretation began the war. The catalogue of chemists and physicists persecuted or thwarted would fill volumes.
The first entrance of these sciences, as a well-defined force, into the modern world, began in the thirteenth century. But the thirteenth century was marked by a revival of religious fervor; to this day the greatest and best works of the cathedral-builders are memorials of its depth and strength.
Out of this religious fervor naturally came a great growth of theological thought and ecclesiastical power, and the spirit of inquiry was soon obliged to take account of this influence.
First among the distinguished men who, in that century, laid foundations for modern science, was Albert of Bollstadt, better known as Albert the Great, the most renowned scholar of Germany.
Fettered though he was by the absurd methods of his time, led astray as he was by the scholastic spirit, he had conceived ideas of better methods and aims. His eye pierces the mists of scholasticism; he sees the light, and draws the world toward it. He stands among the great pioneers of modern physical and natural science. He aids in giving foundations to botany and chemistry, and Humboldt finds in his works the germ of the comprehensive science of physical geography. 87
The conscience of the time, acting, as it supposed, in defense of religion, brought out a missile which it hurled with deadly effect. You see those mediæval scientific battle-fields strewed with such: it was the charge of sorcery, of unlawful compact with the devil.
This missile was effective. You find it used against every great investigator of Nature in those times and for centuries after. The list of great men charged with magic, as given by Naudé, is astounding. It includes every man of real mark, and the most thoughtful of the popes, Sylvester II. (Gerbert), stands in the midst of them. It seemed to be the received idea that, as soon as a man conceived a wish to study the works of God, his first step must be a league with the devil. 88
This missile was hurled against Albert. He was condemned by the authorities of the Dominican order, subjected to suspicion and indignity, and only escaped persecution by yielding to the ecclesiastical spirit of the time, and working mainly in theological channels by scholastic methods. It was a sad loss to the earth; and certainly, of all organizations that have reason to lament the pressure of those ecclesiastical forces which turned Albert the Great from the path of experimental philosophy, foremost of all in regret should be the Christian Church, and especially the Roman branch of it. Had the Church of the thirteenth century been so full of faith as to accept the truths in natural science brought by Albert and his compeers, and to have encouraged their growth, this faith and this encouragement would to this day have formed the greatest argument for proving the Church directly under Divine guidance; they would have been the brightest jewels in her crown. The loss to the Church, by this want of faith and courage, has proved, in the long-run, even greater than the loss to science.
The next great man of that age whom the theological and ecclesiastical forces of the time turn from the right path is Vincent of Beauvais.
Vincent devoted himself to the study of Nature in several of her most interesting fields. To astronomy, mineralogy, botany, and chemistry, he gave much thought; but especially did he devote himself to the preparation of a full account of the universe. Had he taken the path of experimental research, the world would have been enriched with most precious discoveries; but the impulse followed by Albert of Bollstadt, backed as it was by the whole ecclesiastical power of his time, was too strong, and, in all the life-labor of Vincent, nothing appears of any permanent value. He built a structure which careless observation of facts, literal interpretation of Scripture, and theological subtilizing, combined to make one of the most striking monuments of human error. 89
But the theological ecclesiastical spirit of the thirteenth century gained its greatest victory in the work of the most renowned of all thinkers of his time, St. Thomas Aquinas. In him was the theological spirit of his age incarnate. Although he yielded somewhat, at one period, to love of studies in natural science, it was he who finally made that great treaty or compromise which for ages subjected science entirely to theology. He it was whose thought reared the most enduring barrier against those who, in that age and in succeeding ages, labored to open for science the path by its own legitimate method toward its own noble ends.
Through the earlier systems of philosophy as they were then known, and through the earlier theologic thought, he had gone with great labor and vigor; he had been a pupil of Albert of Bollstadt, and from him had gained inspiration in science. All his mighty powers, thus disciplined and cultured, he brought to bear in making a treaty or truce, giving to theology the supremacy over science. The experimental method had already been practically initiated; Albert of Bollstadt and Roger Bacon had begun their work in accordance with its methods; but St. Thomas Aquinas gave all his thoughts to bringing science again under the sway of the theological bias, metaphysical methods, and ecclesiastical control. He gave to the world a striking example of what his method could be made to produce. In his commentary upon Aristotle's treatise upon "Heaven and Earth" he illustrates all the evils of such a combination of theological reasoning and literal interpretation of the Scriptural with scientific facts as then understood, and it remains to this day a prodigious monument to human genius and human folly. The ecclesiastical power of the time hailed him as a deliverer; it was claimed that striking miracles were vouchsafed, showing that the blessing of Heaven rested upon his labors. Among the legends embodying the Church spirit of that period is that given by the Bollandists and immortalized by a renowned painter. The great philosopher and saint is represented in the habit of his order, with book and pen in hand, kneeling before the image of Christ crucified; and as he kneels the image thus addresses him: "Thomas, thou hast written well concerning me; what price wilt thou receive for thy labor?" To this day the greater ecclesiastical historians of the Roman Church, like the Abbé Rohrbacher, and the minor historians of science, who find it convenient to propitiate the Church, like Pouchet, dilate upon the glories of St. Thomas Aquinas in thus making a treaty of alliance between religious and scientific thought, and laying the foundations for a "sanctified science." But the unprejudiced historian cannot indulge in this enthusiastic view. The results both for the Church and for the progress of science have been most unfortunate. It was a wretched step backward. The first result of this great man's great compromise was to close that new path in science which alone leads to discoveries of value—the experimental method—and to reopen the old path of mixed theology and science, which, as Hallam declares, "after three or four hundred years had not untied a single knot, or added one unequivocal truth to the domain of philosophy;" the path which, as all modern history proves, has ever since led only to delusion and evil. 90
The path thus unfortunately opened by these strong men became the main path in science for ages, and it led the world farther and farther from any fruitful fact or hopeful method. Roger Bacon's investigations were virtually forgotten; worthless mixtures of literal interpretation of Scripture with imperfectly authenticated physical facts took their place.
Every age since has been full of examples of this, but out of them I will take just one; and it shall be no other than that Francis Bacon, who, more than any other man, led the modern world out of the path opened by Aquinas, and back into the path trod by Roger Bacon. Strange as it may at first seem, Francis Bacon, whose keenness of sight revealed the delusions of the old path and the promises of the new, that man whose boldness in thought did so much to turn the world from the old path into the new, presents, in his own writings, one of the most striking examples of the strength of the evil he did so much to destroy.
The Novum Organum, considering the time when it came from his pen, is doubtless one of the greatest exhibitions of genius in the history of human thought. This treatise it was which showed the modern world the way out of the scholastic method and reverence for dogma into the experimental method and reverence for demonstrated fact. In the course of it occur many passages which show that the great philosopher was fully alive to the danger, both to religion and to science, arising from their mixture. Early in his argument he says: "But the corruption of philosophy from superstition and admixture of theology separates altogether more widely, and introduces the greatest amount of evil, both into whole systems of philosophy and into their parts." And a little later he says: "Some moderns have indulged this vanity with the greatest carelessness, and have endeavored to found a Natural Philosophy on the first of Genesis and the Book of Job, and other sacred Scriptures, so 'seeking the dead among the living.' And by so much the more is this vanity to be restrained and coerced because their expressions form an unwholesome mixture of things human and divine; not merely fantastic philosophy, but heretical religion. And so it is very salutary that, with due sobriety of mind, those things only be rendered to faith which are faith's." 91 Still later, in his treatise, Bacon returns to the charge yet more strongly. He says: "Nor is it to be overlooked, that natural philosophy has in all ages had a troublesome and stubborn adversary in superstition and the blind and immoderate zeal for religion. Thus it has been among the Greeks, that they who first proposed to the yet unprepared ears of men the natural causes of lightning and tempests were condemned, on that head, for impiety toward the gods; nor by some of the old fathers of the Christian religion were those much better received, who laid it down from the most sure demonstrations, such as no one in his senses could nowadays contradict, that the earth is round, and asserted in consequence that there must be antipodes. Furthermore, as things are now, the condition of discourses on Nature is made severe and more rigorous in consequence of the summaries and methods of scholastic theologians, who, while they have, as far as they could, reduced theology to order, and have fashioned it into the form of an art, have besides succeeded in mingling far more than was right of the quarrelsome and thorny philosophy of Aristotle with the body of religion."
"The fictions, too, of those who have not feared to deduce and confirm from the principles and authority of philosophies the true Christian religion, have the same tendency, though in a different way. These celebrated the wedding of faith and sense, as though it were lawful, with much pomp and solemnity, and soothed the minds of men with a grateful variety of things, but, meanwhile, mingled the divine with the human in ill-matched state. And in mixtures like this of theology with natural philosophy, those things only which are now received in philosophy are included; while novelties, though they be changes for the better, are all banished and driven out."
And, again, Bacon says: "Lastly you may find, thanks to the unskillfulness of some divines, the approach to any kind of philosophy, however improved, entirely closed up. Some, indeed, in their simplicity are rather afraid, lest perhaps a deeper inquiry into Nature should penetrate beyond the allowed limits of sobriety." Still further on Bacon penetrates into the very heart of the question in a vigorous way, and says: "Others, more craftily, conjecture and consider that, if the means be unknown, each single thing can be referred more easily to the hand and rod of God—a matter, as they think, of very great importance to religion: and this is nothing more nor less than wishing to please God by a lie." And, finally, he says: "Whereas, if one considers the matter rightly, natural philosophy is, after God's word, the surest medicine for superstition, and also the most approved nourishment of faith." 92
No man who has thought much upon the annals of his race can, without a feeling of awe, come into the presence of such inspired clearness of insight and boldness of utterance. The first thought of the reader is, that, of all men, this Francis Bacon is the most free from the unfortunate bias he condemns. He certainly cannot be deluded into the old path. But, as we go on through the treatise, we are surprised to find that the strong arm of Aquinas had been stretched over the intervening ages, and had laid hold upon this master-thinker of the sixteenth century. Only a few chapters further along we find Bacon, after alluding to the then recent voyage of Columbus, speaking of the prophecy of Daniel regarding the latter days, that "many shall run to and fro and knowledge be increased," as "clearly signifying that it is in the fates, i. e., in providence, that the circumnavigation of the world, which through so many lengthy voyages seems to be entirely complete or in course of completion, and the increase of science, should happen in the same age." 93
Here, then, we have this great man indulging in that very mixture of literal Scriptural interpretation and scientific thought which he had condemned, and therefrom evidently deducing the conclusion that these great voyages and discoveries, which were the beginning of a new world in thought and action, were the end of all things.
But in his great work on The Advancement of Learning the firm grip which the methods he condemned held upon him is shown yet more clearly. In his first book he shows how "that excellent Book of Job, if it be revolved with diligence, it will be found pregnant and swelling with natural philosophy," and endeavors to show that the "roundness of the world," the "fixing of the stars, ever standing at equal distance," the "depression of the southern pole," "matter of generation," and "matter of minerals," are "with great elegancy noted." But, curiously enough, he uses to support some of these truths the very texts which the Fathers of the Church used to destroy them, and those for which he finds Scriptural warrant most clearly are such as science has since disproved. So, too, he says that Solomon was enabled by "donation of God" in his proverbs "to compile a natural history of all verdure." 94
Certainly no more striking examples of the strength of the evil which he had all along been denouncing could be exhibited than these in his own writings; after this we cease to wonder at his blindness to the discoveries of Kopernik and the experiments of Gilbert.
I pass from the legions of those who from that day to this have stumbled into similar errors by degrading our sacred volume into a compendium of history or a text-book of science, and turn next to a far more serious class of effects arising from the great mediæval compromise between science and theology. We have considered the wrong road into which so many master-spirits were led or driven; we will now look at the war brought against those men of science who persevered in the right road.
The first great thinker who, in spite of some stumbling into theologic pitfalls, persevered in this true path was Roger Bacon. His life and works seem until recently to have been generally misunderstood. He has been ranked as a superstitious alchemist who stumbled upon some inventions; but more recent investigation has revealed him to be one of the great masters in human progress.
The advance of sound historical judgment seems likely to bring nearer to equality the fame of the two who bear the name of Bacon. Bacon of the chancellorship and the Novum Organon may not wane; but Bacon of the prison-cell and the Opus Majus steadily approaches him in brightness. 95