The same gradation is marked in the animal kingdom. The most characteristic feature of the arctic fauna is its dull uniformity. The species are few in number, their forms are regular, and their tints are dusky as the northern heavens. The most conspicuous animals are the reindeer, the white bear, and the various seals; but the most important are the whales, which rank lowest of all the mammals. The preponderance of marine animals clearly indicates an inferior development. The faunas of the temperate regions are much more varied than in the Arctic Zone. Instead of consisting mainly of aquatic tribes, we have a considerable number of terrestrial animals of graceful form, animated appearance, and varied coloring, though less brilliant than those found in tropical regions. It is in the tropics that animal life attains its highest development. The boundless variety of species, the richness of the colors, the diversity of forms, the size and strength of the great pachyderms that people the forests and rivers, the fleetness and vigor of the ferocious denizens of the jungle and the plain, all attest that this is the privileged zone. And here only are found the quadrumanæ, which stand at the head of the animal kingdom.
Such, then, is clearly the law of the physical world. "Nature goes on adding perfection to perfection from the polar regions to the Temperate Zone, and from the Temperate Zone to the region of the greatest heat." Animal life increases in strength and development; the types are improved; intelligence enlarges; the form approaches nearer the human figure; the ourang-outang occasionally stands erect; and the presence of the mastoid and styloid processes, the development of the heel-bone, and the form of the pelvis, together with the shape of the ears and a higher frontal development, give the gorilla a startling resemblance to man. Following, then, the ascending series (especially if man be regarded as the lineal descendant of the anthropomorphic apes), we might reasonably suppose that here would be found the proper home and habitat of man, and that the tropical man would be the highest type of humanity, and, physically speaking, the most beautiful of the species.
But this, as every one knows, is not the case. While all the types of plants and of animals go on increasing in perfection from the polar to the equatorial regions in proportion to the increase of temperature, "man presents to our view his purest, his most perfect type at the very centre of the temperate continents, at the centre of Asia-Europe, in the region of Iran, of Armenia, and of the Caucasus;, and, departing from this geographical centre in the three grand directions of the lands, the types gradually lose the beauty of their forms in proportion to their distance, even to the extreme points of the southern continents, where we find the most deformed and [physically] degenerated races, and the lowest in the scale of humanity."[391]
The distribution of the human race over the face of the earth has thus been governed by a different law from that which has governed the distribution of plants and animals.
In the latter case, the degree of perfection of the types is exactly proportional to the intensity of heat and other material conditions favorable to the development of physical life. This is the law of a physical order.
In the former case, in man, the degree of perfection of the types is in proportion to the degree of intellectual and moral improvement, and to the physical conditions favorable to intellectual and moral development. This is the law of a moral order.
This difference between the two laws has its ground and reason in the essential difference between the nature and destination of these different orders of being. The plant and the animal are not destined to become a different thing from what they already are. The end of their existence is already attained. The development of each individual is bound to an immutable necessity of nature. Therefore vegetable life and organization are ceaselessly uniform; there are always the same cellular structures and the same morphological forms. Unreasoning and instinctive life never leaves its sphere. The beaver builds its dam, lives, and dies, just as it did six thousand years ago. The bee builds the same hexagonal cell she built before the flood. There is an all-pervading order in the physical world, But with man it is quite otherwise. Man, created in the image of God, is a free moral being. He is not solely under the dominion of mere nature-conditions, and he is therefore a progressive being. The physical man is not the true man; the body is not an end, but a means. There is another man—the intellectual, the moral, the spiritual man—which grows up with the body, and to which the physical man is a servant and minister. The unfolding, the development, the perfection of this spiritual nature is the grand end of man. This development can only take place under freedom; this nature be unfolded only by education; the maturity and the perfection of man secured only by the exercise and discipline of his spiritual powers.[392]
Who does not see a plan, a purpose, a Providence in this fact that the cradle of the human race was placed in the midst of the continents of the north and not at the centre of the tropical regions? The balmy but enervating atmosphere of the equatorial regions would have lulled man to sleep, and he would have made no progress. With an abundant supply for his natural wants, there would have been no motive to industry, to enterprise, and to the development of his intellectual powers. Unable to endure the rigors of a colder climate, and to live on a less luxuriant soil, he could not have been induced to migrate to less favorable regions, and, crowded on a narrow area, the race must have been finally exterminated. But planted in the Temperate Zone, in the midst of the continents of the North, so well adapted by their forms, their highly articulated peninsulas, and their climate to stimulate the active powers of man, to promote enterprise, to favor commerce, and hasten individual development and social organization, he was surrounded by conditions most favorable to the fulfillment of his destiny.
It is also worthy of being noted that Western Asia was not only the geographical centre of the human race, but also the grand centre of religious light—the cradle of man's spiritual nature. It was here in the midst of the six great nations of antiquity—the Babylonians, the Assyrians, Medes, Persians, Phoenicians, and Egyptians—that for ages "the living oracles" proclaimed the "Truth of God," and patriarchs and prophets and seers were received into intercourse with the higher world. And it was in Palestine, the centre of the three continents of the Old World, and near five great seas—the highways of the world's travel and commerce—that Jesus of Nazareth taught "the glad tidings of great joy" for the nations, and sent forth his apostles "into all the world to preach that Gospel to every creature."
2. Another important fact which history enables us very distinctly to recognize is that those epochs of civilization which represent the highest degree of culture attained by man at different periods in his history have not succeeded one another in the same place, but have passed from one country to another.
It is an undoubted historic fact, as we have already seen, that Asia was the cradle of the human race. Western Asia is the theatre of the earliest civilization of which we have any historic records. Then a newer and higher form appears on the peninsula of Greece. The centre of civilization again changes place, and Rome embraces and improves upon that of the ancient world. Then passing the Alps, still further to the west, it spreads over France and Germany and the British Isles, and assumes a nobler form; and finally it crosses the Atlantic Ocean, and develops its highest type in the New World. This order may be called the geographical march of civilization.
In the principle we enounced at the opening of this chapter, that the earth is the school-house of man—its highest function being to aid in his intellectual and moral training, and furnish the conditions in which he may fulfill his noble destiny—we can recognize at once the reason and the law of this remarkable progression. And as no single continent furnishes all the conditions necessary to the complete development of man, and each of the three northern continents, by virtue of its structure and climate and physical conditions, has a special function to fulfill in the education of mankind, so God, in his providence, has led the human family from east to west, over the continents of the Temperate Zone, in order to secure the education, the moral advancement, and the final perfection of our race.
The education of the race has, no doubt, proceeded very much in the same manner as the education of the individual. The general law observable in the development of one human mind may be traced in the development of humanity as a whole. That which takes place on the limited field of individual consciousness may also be found upon the larger field of universal consciousness, which is the theatre of history; and as one epoch succeeds another in the progress of the individual, so must it be in the progress of nations. What, then, are the clear and obvious stages in the development of the human mind? Do we not clearly recognize the following order?
1. The period of submission to absolute authority. This is the first condition of infancy. The child is controlled absolutely by the will of the parent. It is almost passive amid surrounding conditions, and parental authority is its only law of movement and action.
2. The discipline of the conscience. This is the era of childhood. The ideas of the right and the good are developed in the mind. An internal law of duty begins to reveal itself. The child begins to discriminate between what he ought and ought not to do. And in the education of the child the object of a wise and virtuous parent is to strengthen this tendency by urging him to act upon these ideas.
3. The development of personal liberty—that is, of independent thought and self-originated action. This is the period of youth. The youth passes from the control of his parents and teachers, and begins to think and act for himself.
4. The training and discipline of the will under social law—that is, the voluntary obedience to laws imposed by society, submission to regulations imposed for the public good. This is the period of manhood. The young man passes into society, he becomes a member of the body politic, and freely acts, not simply as an individual, but as a member of a corporation and of a state.
5. The development of active philanthropy. The man advances beyond the claims of social law, and acts from the promptings of love and good-will toward all men. Passing through all the varied stages in the progressive development of human character, and retaining the results of each, he becomes the perfect man.
And now it will be promptly recognized that this has been the order of progress in humanity as a whole—that is, the progress of history and of civilization. The first corresponds with Oriental, the second with Hebrew, the third with Greek, the fourth with Roman, and the last with Christian civilization.
It will also be observed that each epoch in the development of the individual has demanded new conditions, and has taken place in a new sphere. The first stage in the development of individual character is infoldment in the arms of the parent. He is still held, as it were, within the circle of maternal life. He is bewildered by the vastness and variety of external nature, and he sinks back into his mother's arms. The second sphere is in the bosom of the family and amid the scenes of domestic life, where he recognizes relations and becomes conscious of duties. The third is in the school and the outer world, where thought awakens, and, enjoying more freedom of movement, he becomes more conscious of his personal liberty. The fourth is in society, the state, the arena of political life, where his movements must be regulated by law; and the pursuit of his own pleasure or aggrandizement must not interfere with the rights of his fellow-man. The fifth and last is in the church, the home of religious life, where he is called to ascend from the region of mere law to that of holy love. So also each epoch in the development of humanity has had its separate sphere and its new conditions, first in Asia proper, next in Palestine, on the borders of the Mediterranean Sea, then on the peninsula of Greece, then in Italy, and lastly in Continental Europe, England, and America.
1. Asia, as we have seen, was the cradle of the race. Here, in the infancy of humanity, Oriental Civilization dawns. Amid the extended plains and lofty mountains of Asia, those stupendous and massive forms of Oriental nature, man felt himself absolutely dependent. To the river he looked as the fertilizer of the soil; to the animal which roamed in the desert, and the almost spontaneous vegetation of the earth, for his food; to the sun, as the fountain of light and heat, the giver of life and death.[393] He was environed and overpowered by nature. Almost unconscious of his own freedom, he lay in her bosom, as the child reposes in the arms of its mother. Underlying all the massive forms of Oriental nature he recognized an invisible Power and Presence, and he worshiped nature as an impersonation of God. Every thing inspired him with the sense of the Infinite, the consciousness of dependence on an absolute Will. The patriarchal government, imposed by nature, restrained his personal liberty. His property and life were at the disposal of his chief—an absolute autocrat, who exercised over him an unlimited power. Oriental civilization unquestionably represents the infancy of man.
2. In Hebrew civilization we have, as an especial feature, the discipline of the conscience. The child-man comes more directly under the power of moral culture. The government and discipline to which he is now subjected aim to develop in his mind the idea of the just, the right, the pure. He is receiving instruction in what he ought and ought not to do. His conceptions of the moral character of God are to be enlarged, the idea especially of the holiness of God is to be developed in his mind through the medium of material symbols and religious rites. The call of Abraham sets forth at once the central lesson of faith in an unseen personal God. The history of the patriarchs brings into clearer light the sovereignty of God as opposed to the mere dominion of nature and fate. A nation grows up in presence of Egyptian culture, and after the purpose of God in the discipline of Egypt is accomplished, they are led into the wilderness, and God now reveals Himself as a Lawgiver and Judge, and a ritual is given which teaches at once the holiness of God and the exceeding sinfulness of sin.[394]
For the achievement of this object a new sphere is demanded—the seclusion and isolation of family life. Accordingly Abraham was called to leave Chaldæa, the scene of Oriental civilization, and led into Canaan, that he might become the father of a great nation, and the source of a new and better civilization. The mountainous region of Palestine was admirably fitted to be the theatre of this new civilization. No other land on the globe was so peculiarly fitted to fulfill this office. The northern half of Syria was not so favorable a locality; for traversed as it was by the great highway from Asia Minor to Assyria, it was subject to the influence of foreign travel from the earliest times. But Palestine lay surrounded by populous countries, and yet isolated from them. In the midst of the six great nations of antiquity—the Babylonians, the Assyrians, the Medes, Persians, Phoenicians, and Egyptians—it was separated from them all.[395] Thus secluded and isolated from the rest of mankind, the Hebrews dwelt alone as one great family. The first form of government was a patriarchy—the father of the family and of the tribe being the ruler. The second was a theocracy, in which God, the Father of the families of all the earth, becomes the immediate ruler. The third was a monarchy—the government of a man appointed and sustained in his authority by God. And the history of this nation is little else than one of instruction, discipline, and chastisement—a tutelage in which the people were under law and not under grace. The Hebrew civilization represents the childhood of humanity.
And the lessons here taught were not lost to the race. They were carried to Assyria and Babylonia during the period of the two captivities; and in the colonies which were founded in Asia Minor, Rome, and Alexandria the influence exerted by Judaism was considerably greater than that which was exerted upon it. The union of Judaism and Platonism is fully represented in Philo the Alexandrian Jew.
3. In Grecian civilization we have the development of personal freedom of thought and action. The Divine discipline of the Jews, as we have seen, was essentially a moral discipline—a discipline of the conscience. This, however, was not a complete discipline of our whole nature. The reason demands culture as well as the conscience. The process and the issue in the two cases were widely different, but they were in some sense complementary; and the one succeeds the other in the order of time. The Divine kingdom of the Jews was just overthrown when free speculation arose in the Ionian colonies of Asia; and the teaching of the last prophet nearly synchronizes with the death of Socrates.[396]
This new civilization could not be achieved on the continent of Asia, and therefore a new theatre is prepared. "Europe may be called a continuation of Central Asia. It surpasses its Oriental neighbor in the advantage of having no internal mountain barrier to divide its north and south. Thus Europe has been able to develop itself more independently and freely in consequence of the number of its peninsular forms.... The three characteristic features in the formation of Europe that are the physical grounds of the development of its nations are its large extent of seaboard, its peninsular forms, and the number of its islands."[397] On the peninsula of Greece, on the shores of the Ægean and Ionian seas, there was freedom of movement, facility of intercourse with the surrounding nations, and inducements to maritime enterprise. These conditions were undoubtedly favorable to a higher development. "The inland sea, the magnificent river," says Cousin, "is the natural symbol of movement." These represent the activity of nature, and they become natural centres of progress. The sea is the highway of commerce, and commerce is the grand channel of ideas, the medium through which the knowledge acquired by one people can flow readily into other lands. Amid such conditions the mind awakes to activity, and the period of youth commences. Awakening thought is first directed to the outer world, and attempts an explanation of its phenomena. Greek philosophy thus becomes, at its first appearance, a philosophy of nature, and the Ionian school was a school of physicists. Here the great names which appear at the dawn of mental activity are Thales, Anaximander, Anaximenes, Heraclites, and Diogenes. From the study of nature the human race advances to the study of man. The new school is a school of moral and mental philosophy, or, more correctly, of psychology and ethics, adorned by such immortal names as Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. In Greece, philosophy, poetry, eloquence, the fine arts, were extensively cultivated. As this was an age of great activity of thought, so it was also an age of great political freedom. The government was in many respects a government of the people, a democracy. "Every thing, in fact, in Greece bears evidence of the preponderance of human personality, and the energy of individual character."[398] Grecian civilization represents the youth of humanity.
The results of this culture were carried to other lands by the conquests of Alexander, and subsequently by the conquering Romans. The poets, the architects, the sculptors, the historians, the philosophers of Greece, are still the guides and models of the men of thought and taste in all cultivated nations. The Greek is still, in a peculiar sense, the teacher of the world.
4. In Roman civilization we have the discipline of the will under social and civil law, the more perfect organization of society and of government, the development of the science of jurisprudence.
This social and political organization was a new work, a higher civilization, and it demanded a new and, in fact, a larger sphere. The centre of the civilized world now changes place, and, moving westward, establishes itself in the peninsula of Italy. By successive conquests its circumference enlarges, and finally it embraces at once the South and the East and the West. The place which Rome occupied, in the very middle of the basin of the Mediterranean Sea, seemed to foreshadow that she was destined to become the metropolis of all the civilized nations who dwelt upon its shores. Rome extended its conquests to Spain, Gaul, Britain, Illyria, Greece, Asia Minor, Egypt, Africa, and the islands of the Mediterranean—over, in fact, six hundred thousand square leagues of the most fertile country; and all but realized the dream of the world's great conquerors—a universal empire. It was defended by a regular army of five hundred thousand men, ranged in the order of the famous legions, which constituted the most effective military organization known. The government of an empire of such vast proportions and diversity of populations demanded the greatest political skill. To establish durable ties between these diverse peoples, and to combine in the same social network all the civilized nations of the world, demanded the highest legislative talent, and gave birth to the science of jurisprudence, which, next to that of theology, is the most important and useful to man. The inability of the Greek to achieve this great work is clearly evinced by the terrible Peloponnesian War and the lamentable history of the empire of Alexander and his successors. Greece represents individuality; Rome, association, unity, and, in some degree, the equality of all races of men.
This was unquestionably a marvelous development: "In public law, the extension, step by step, through many a civil commotion, of the full rights of citizenship from the narrow circle of a few score of favored families to the entire sphere of the free subjects of the empire; in private law, the equal communication among various classes of the rights of property and dominion over the national soil; the abolition of territorial privileges; the readjustment, by gradual and peaceful manipulation, of the cadastral map of the empire; the relaxation, by slow and experimental process, of the patriarchal authority of the head of the family; of the father over the son, whom at first he might punish, sell, or slay; of the husband over the wife, whom at first he received from her parents as the spoil of his own spear, and ruled as the chattel he had plundered;[399] of the master over the slave, absolute at first, final and irresponsible to law, custom, or conscience; the gradual replacement of the strictly national and tribal ideas on these subjects by views of right, justice, and virtue to mankind in general; the slow but constant growth of principles of natural and universal law, and their application, searchingly and thoroughly, to every subject of jurisprudence, and to all the dealings of man with man."[400]
This vast Roman Empire combined all the elements of civilization characteristic of former periods. The philosopher, the lawyer, and the statesman were united in the person of her great men, as Cicero and Cato, and sometimes also the warrior, as in the case of the first of the Cæsars. The days of the Roman Republic present the most brilliant social and political epoch in the history of the ancient world. The life of a Roman citizen was emphatically a public life. The love of country was carried to the highest pitch, and was paramount to every other consideration. The laws and jurisprudence of Ancient Rome have furnished models for the whole civilized world. "The world-wide elastic system of jurisprudence by which the great Roman Empire, with all its boundless variety of races, creeds, and manners, was for ages harmoniously and equitably governed; which was accepted and ratified as an eternal possession by the same empire when it became Christian; and has been proved to satisfy the principles of law and justice announced by a religion which alone proclaimed the unity and equality of man;... finally, a jurisprudence which has been incorporated into the particular legal systems of, I suppose, every modern nation in Christendom," marks a high degree of civilization, and justifies us in regarding Roman civilization as representing the manhood of our race.
5. And now comes, last of all, the Christian civilization, or the age of philanthropy. When the Roman Empire had attained its zenith, and all civilized nations were brought under one government; and the world was at peace; and the philosophy of Greece and the jurisprudence of Rome had prepared the way for a higher and a nobler civilization, then, "in the fullness of time"—the ripeness and maturity of the ages or dispensations—"God sent his Son, made under the law, to redeem them that are under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons." He came to exhibit completely the truth which had been partially revealed to Plato, that "God is Love"—that "Love is creation's final law"—and that the completeness and perfection of humanity is "resemblance to God."[401] He came to announce and enforce the brotherhood of mankind, and the equality of all classes and races in the sight of God. He proclaimed the equal worth of all human souls in the estimation of the heavenly Father; and to prove that all men are alike the objects of Divine care and solicitude, He laid down his life as "a propitiation for the sins of the whole world." For the reception of this gospel of universal brotherhood and equal rights the Grecian and Roman civilizations had prepared the way. And now He gives to the race the "new commandment," which is the fundamental law of the Kingdom of God, and is finally to become the universal law for all nations, that "Men should love one another, as He loved all men, and laid down his life for them." The whole spirit and tendency of this crowning form of civilization can not be misapprehended. Its sympathies are all with the poor, the suffering, and the oppressed; it can not fail to overthrow castes and aristocracies, to destroy tyranny, oppression, and slavery, and at last to unite all men in bonds of love to each other and to God.
And now to what people shall be committed the office of diffusing and perpetuating this noblest and highest civilization? Not to the Jewish nation, for it was exclusive and selfish; not to the Greek, for it had become effete; not to the Roman, for it had become corrupt. Christianity, it is true, was born on Jewish soil, but it was soon transferred to a more favorable clime. The Church was early planted in Rome, but achieved its grandest conquests among another people. The fierce Germanic tribes of the North conquer the Roman Empire, and are conquered by its Christianity. Already the Germans had the conception of an illimitable Deity, toward whom they looked with solemn and reverential awe.[402] Having penetrated into the midst of the Roman Empire, they came fully into the presence and under the influence of Christianity. Their conversion was speedy and comparatively complete. The constant intercourse now maintained between Rome and Central and Northern Europe in a short time carried this new civilization across the Alps; the circle rapidly widens, and embraces all Europe in a common faith.
All the rich treasures of the past are appropriated by Christianity—the moral culture of the Hebrew, the poetry and philosophy of Greece, the jurisprudence of Ancient Rome. All these—in so far as they are pure and good—are absorbed by Christianity, and ennobled and baptized by the Christian spirit. In Christian Europe poetry, philosophy, science flourished as they had never flourished in any preceding age, and they lay their richest tribute at the feet of Christ, the Divine King of the world. Nature, also, herself becomes more and more subject to man, and to the religion of the God-man. Science multiplies the means of diffusing knowledge and the facilities of intercourse among the nations of the earth. The discovery of the art of printing opens the Book of Life to the millions of our race. Space has been annihilated by railroads; by the help of steam continents are united; the electric telegraph is binding the nations in one. And now the genius of Christianity begins more signally to reveal itself as a power acting on the social life of man. The forms and conditions of his earthly lot are being wonderfully transformed and improved. Science is emancipating labor, and constantly overcoming the sources of human suffering. Hygienic science is preserving life and extending the term of human existence. Mankind is rising above the sphere of mere law, into the sphere of noble love. Philanthropic institutions are being daily multiplied, humanitarian and Christian enterprises most vigorously prosecuted, and a noble benevolence is rapidly supplanting the ignoble selfishness of former ages. Chalmers, Howard, Wilberforce, Hitchcock, Amos Lawrence, Elizabeth Fry, Florence Nightingale, Mrs. Gladstone, are representative men and women of the new age.
Christian civilization is no longer the property of any one nation alone. Now it embraces in its purposes and plans the evangelization of all the nations of the earth. The world is now its field. The accumulated waves of light and power from Hebrew and Grecian and Roman civilizations, to which Christianity has added a new life and force, are destined to roll back a tide of blessing upon the remnants of those ancient nations, and sweep northward and southward—
The crowning achievement of a Christian civilization will be the political regeneration of the nations—the establishment of all human governments on the principles of human equality, natural rights, and the brotherhood of man. The glory of this achievement, in all its fullness, is not, however, the work of Europe. She inherits too positively the martial spirit of Ancient Rome. Ancient customs and prescriptions, hereditary castes, aristocracies, and kings, and an ecclesiastical polity moulded by these, stand in the way of a Christianity of equality, of freedom, and of universal brotherhood. Europe has her roots too deeply infixed in the past to adapt herself, fully and readily, to the enlarged principles of a thoroughly Christian civilization. A new country is therefore needed, a New World, where Christianity can remodel human society, and reconstruct human governments upon her own principles, and the human race can enter upon the last stage in its progress toward the now visible portals of its final goal. "The East," says Ritter, "represents hope, the West, fulfillment." That new continent was discovered just at the proper hour. Had North America been discovered earlier, it would have been peopled by Catholic nations, and the noble civilization which Christianity was designed to achieve would have been cramped and fettered by the hand of an ecclesiastical hierarchy. The New World reposed quietly in the bosom of a yet untraversed ocean awaiting the advent of the Protestant Reformation. Luther drew the Bible from its concealment in the library of the University of Erfurt at the same time (1502) that Columbus discovered the American continent.[403]
The first settlers in New England were eminently Protestant. They were men who loved the Word of God, and they sought to organize society in this new country upon its holy principles. This new colonization had its birth amid the agonizing throes of martyrdom. The "Pilgrim Fathers" had been persecuted and driven from home for Christ's sake. They sought the desert that they might have freedom to worship God according to the dictates of their own consciences; and they braved the dangers of the almost untraveled deep, and the perils of an inhospitable shore in mid-winter, to lay the foundations of a new empire which should be the home of liberty, and the sanctuary of piety for themselves and their children. The Puritan love of freedom and reverence for religion has left its impress on the mind and character of the American people, upon their modes of thought, and upon the institutions of their country. The ideas of universal liberty and equal justice are interwoven in her Constitution, and, in general, the spirit of her legislation has been in accordance therewith. A relic of barbarism landed at Jamestown, in Virginia, which after a fierce struggle of years was finally conquered, and the rank offense was expiated by tears and blood. God has destroyed slavery in America by "the breath of his mouth," and its death-knell has sounded all over the globe. The cause of freedom is stronger in Europe as the reflex of her triumphs here.
Finally, a remarkable characteristic of the civilization of the New World is the emancipation of man from the dominion of nature. By an amazing fertility of mechanical contrivance man is here rapidly "subduing the earth." Released from merely local and hereditary ties, he spreads freely over the vast territory, and rapidly multiplies the means of easy locomotion. The soil is being extensively cultivated; the climate, even, modified; the physiognomy of nature changed by the intelligence of man; and a regenerated earth is to be, at last, the consequence of a regenerated race. Physical nature sympathizes with the intellectual and moral condition of man. Science is anticipating the time "when the earth will only produce cultivated plants and domestic animals; when man's selection shall have supplanted 'natural selection;' and when the ocean alone will be the only domain in which that power can be exerted which for countless cycles of ages ruled supreme over the earth."[404] "The whole creation has groaned and travailed together in pain until now,... waiting for the manifestation of the sons of God."
"Verily there is a God" that not only judges in the earth, but guides and instructs the nations, and who in the development of the earth and of history "worketh all things according to his eternal counsel and purpose," that for the rational creation "God may be all in all."
"England's thinkers are again beginning to see, what they had only temporarily forgotten, that the difficulties of metaphysics lie at the root of all science."—J. S. Mill.
The most sharply defined issue between Science and Religion—in fact, the only real issue at the present time—is in regard to the doctrine of Special Providence and the efficacy of Prayer.
These are not in reality two distinct questions: they are but opposite phases of one and the same question. The doctrine of special providence is the theoretic aspect, and the doctrine of the efficacy of prayer is the practical aspect of the Christian doctrine of the relation of God to nature and man. We can not, therefore, discuss the practical question apart from the theoretic; neither can we reach any decisive conclusions in regard to either unless we start with clear and well-defined conceptions of the fundamental relations between God and nature, and between God and man.
We shall assume the existence of God as the common postulate of all religion and of all philosophy. If this be denied, then all discussion of the present question is useless, because we have no common starting-point. But it will not be denied, we think, that the vast majority of scientific men are agreed that the idea of God is the necessary presupposition of all those branches of science which concern themselves with "genetic problems"—that is, with problems of origin; and which, strictly speaking, are not problems of science, but of philosophy. These scientists may not all choose to employ the term "God," but they will all recognize, with Mr. Spencer, the existence of "an unconditioned Cause" as "the ultimate of all ultimates," and they will admit with him that the First Cause must be infinite, absolute, and perfect, "including within itself all power and transcending all law."[405] Mr. Spencer calls this idea of a First Cause "a datum of consciousness;" and he asserts that this "inexpugnable consciousness, in which religion and philosophy are at one with common-sense, is likewise that on which all exact science is founded."[406]
Taking this fundamental presupposition as generally conceded—namely, the existence of a Power which is unoriginated and independent; a Power which is conscious of itself and determines itself; a Power which transcends all law and is the source of all law—the question at issue may be thus stated—Have our prayers any influence with this Power? Can they in any way affect the Divine feeling and action toward us? Do they have any indirect influence upon that succession of events in nature and history which is effectuated and determined by that Supreme Power? This is the real question at issue between science and religion.
Nothing need be said to deepen our sense of the importance of this issue. We all regard it as one of the vital questions of the hour, the most vital question for religious men, yea, the most vital question for scientific men, inasmuch as there are moments of sadness and sorrow, of doubt and mystery, when man feels that his only refuge is in prayer, and, science or no science, he must pray. But if there is no living God to sympathize with us in our sorrow and help us in our deepest need, or, which amounts to the same thing, if God is so completely environed by laws which He has Himself enacted, and so imprisoned in his own works that He can do nothing to aid us, then prayer is an illusion, and instead of being in any way beneficial to us, it inflicts a deep and irreparable injury upon our intellectual and moral life. If there is nothing in the universe but mechanical force and necessary law; if there is no freedom and no moral purpose, then prayer for help and succor and guidance is a conscious or unconscious deception practiced by the soul upon itself, and the sooner we are undeceived the better; for of all deception the most pernicious and depraving is that which a man practices upon himself. We could not even accept the cold apology for prayer which was made by David Hume, that it may have a wholesome reflex influence upon the mind of the worshiper, and be a good way of preaching to ourselves.[407] There can be nothing useful or helpful in the belief and practice of a lie. No accession of moral force or moral purity can come from doing any thing in which we do not believe. If there is any moral value and any real helpfulness in prayer, it must be based upon a rational belief that the Divine mind is accessible to the supplication of his creature, and that the Divine will is moved thereby. "He that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him."
Humbly professing this belief without any reservation, and regarding it as a perfectly rational belief, we proceed to defend it against certain so-called scientific objections, and to consider certain difficulties which present themselves to the minds of scientific men.
We have said that there is a real issue between science and religion as to the efficacy of prayer. The statement is not strictly correct, and we amend it by saying that the issue is not between science and religion, but between certain men who study and teach science and certain men who study and teach religion. For, as Mr. Murphy observes, "The antagonism between science and religion themselves is purely imaginary. The antagonism between the men who study and teach science and the men who study and teach religion is unfortunately sometimes real, though it is the fashion [just now] to exaggerate it; but so far as it is real it is an accident of the present time, which will disappear, and indeed is already visibly disappearing."[408]
No man is in a position to affirm that there is an antagonism between science and religion until he has first clearly determined the sphere and function of each, and can say distinctly what science is and what religion is. He may have utterly misconceived the nature of religion, or he may have misapprehended the function of science, and therefore the supposed antagonism may be purely imaginary. For example, Herbert Spencer says, "Every religion may be defined as an à priori theory of the universe."[409] If this definition were correct, we could easily conceive how religion and modern science might come into collision, because the tendency of science at the present time is to occupy itself with "questions of origin"—that is, with "theories of the origin of things," instead of being, as Spencer defines it, "a systematic collection of facts, ascertained with precision, and so classified and generalized as to reveal the uniform relations of co-existence and succession among phenomena, and thus give prevision." This is the legitimate sphere of all that science which can lay any claim to be regarded as "exact science." When it transcends this limit it ceases to be science and becomes philosophy—a philosophy which will be more or less valid and legitimate as it recognizes the authority and submits to the guidance of à priori ideas of the reason.
But is Mr. Spencer's definition of religion correct? We think not. Indeed, it would be difficult to give a definition of religion wider from the mark. He might with just as much propriety have said that religion is an à priori theory of the origin of language, of government, of trade, or of music. Either Mr. Spencer must have made this definition for an unworthy purpose, or he must be in utter darkness as to the nature of religion. One needs only to cast a hasty glance over the history of ancient religions, or to consider with an unprejudiced mind any of the contemporaneous forms of religion, to be convinced that religion is, and always has been, a mode of life determined by the sense of dependence upon a Supreme Power.[410] Religion has always been a matter of practical interest and personal concernment, and has no more to do with "theories of the universe" than with theories of light, or theories of electricity, or theories of political economy.
The separate spheres of religion and science have been admirably defined by James Martineau in a few words—"Science discloses the Method of the world but not its cause; religion [or theology] discloses the Cause of the world but not its method. There is no conflict between them except when either forgets its ignorance of what the other alone can know."[411] This is well said, and directly to the point. Religion, or more properly theology (for theology is the objective correlate and piety the subjective correlate of religion), teaches what God is, what are his attributes, what are the moral and spiritual relations which subsist between God and man, and what are the duties which arise out of these relations. Science teaches what nature is, and what are the relations and laws of natural phenomena. Science is the co-ordination of phenomena. Here no conflict can arise. The truths which are taught by each rest on their own appropriate evidence, and they are capable of verification by direct or indirect reduction to experience—the facts of science to external experience, and the facts of religion to internal experience. These experiences can not, in the nature of the case, be contradictory, because religion deals with one class of facts and science with another. Such being the case, the scientist may be as certain of the reality of religion as of the reality of science—that is, he may be directly and immediately conscious of the same feeling of reverence, the same sense of dependence, the same feeling of obligation, and the same loyalty of soul toward the unseen "Power which makes for righteousness,"[412] which is experienced by the unscientific believer. This is frankly avowed by Dr. Tyndall. He says, "The facts of religious feeling are to me as certain as the facts of physics;" and he refers with evident emotion to a period in his earlier years when he "prized the conscious strength and pleasure derived from moral and religious feeling." "Give me," he says, "their health, and there is no spiritual experience of those earlier years, no resolve of duty or work of mercy, no act of self-denial, no solemnity of thought, no joy in the life and aspect of nature which would not still be mine."[413] We doubt not that there are thousands of scientific men who to-day might bear the same testimony.
Here the question will suggest itself, How, then, comes it to pass that there exists any antagonism between the teachers of science and the teachers of religion? We answer, the antagonism has arisen on that debatable ground which lies between the two, where speculative thought, whether from the stand-point of religion or the stand-point of science, seeks to form definite conceptions of the relation between God and nature, to bring our outer and inner experiences into a higher unity of reason, and to construct "à priori theories of the origin of things."
We do not presume to say that these metaphysical speculations are either futile or improper. But what we do insist upon, and beg the reader distinctly to note, is that these speculations are neither scientific nor religious, and that neither true science nor true religion is responsible for them. They are not religious, even though indulged in by theologians; because religion is solely concerned with the personal consciousness of our relation to God, and the discharge of our personal duty to God, and not in the remotest sense with any theory as to the method of causation in the world around us. It is equally certain that these speculations are not scientific, even though indulged in by scientists; because science deals only with phenomena, and the laws of phenomena; and it is a fundamental canon of all scientific induction that no problem is to be mooted unless it can be presented in terms of experience, and no principles are to be admitted which can not be verified by experiment. But the modern speculations respecting the origin of motion, of life, and of mind can not be presented in terms of sensible experience, and can not be verified by actual experiment. So far as sensible experience goes, every case of physical motion is a transformation of energy, and every new physiological unit or aggregation of units is derived from pre-existent bioplasm. And so Dr. Tyndall, in the speculations in which he indulges, in the now celebrated "Inaugural Address" delivered at Belfast, particularly in regard to the origin of life, admits that he "oversteps the boundary of the experimental evidence;" therefore, by his own admission, these speculations are unscientific.[414] These discussions are inevitable, and even valuable. We would protest as earnestly as Dr. Tyndall against the attempt of any man to set limits to human thought, but we would equally protest against the attempt to pass off the results of speculative thinking in any direction as "exact science." True science is itself dishonored and discredited by all such attempts.
We have said that it is solely within the field of speculative thought that all controversy has arisen concerning the doctrine of special providence and the efficacy of prayer. This will be apparent from the consideration of the fact that from the dawn of speculative thought to the present hour two radically opposite theories of the origin of things have prevailed—one mechanical, the other vital.
The vital theory regards nature as the product and the continued work of an ever-living and ever-creating Spirit, who is the immediate fountain of all force, and the immanent life of all that lives. It looks upon the universe "as the manifestation and the abode of a Free Mind like our own," who realizes his thoughts in its collocations and adjustments, embodies his ideals in its typical forms, and by his free volition subordinates nature to the higher purposes of intellectual and moral life—the formation of noble human characters. In a world so constituted prayer is a real power, and human character is a free development through the power of prayer which influences that ever-present Will that sustains our life.
The mechanical theory regards the world as a huge machine supplied with motor power in the primal act of creation, and then left to make its own history according to rigid laws of mechanics and "the multiplication table." There is no "Power which makes for righteousness," and no purpose of love mingling in the necessary order of things. Evolution is the only law of creation; there is nothing spontaneous, nothing free. All the processes of nature, all the forms of life, all the facts of consciousness, all the sympathies, sacrifices, joys, and sorrows of social life, and all the noble or ignoble deeds of history, are only mechanical functions which can be weighed or measured, and catalogued in tables of statistics. Inflexible necessity, inexorable law, absolute uniformity, unbroken continuity tell the story of the universe. In such a world there is no place for prayer, or at most it is but the cry of anguish wrung from the lips of those who are being mangled and crushed by the ponderous mechanism, which floats away into the infinite spaces, and never finds a living ear or touches a compassionate heart. Then, as Dr. Hedge puts the melancholy case, "We must rough it as best we can with driving-wheel and fly-wheel, and trust that the power may not fail and the gearing foul in our short day."
This is the position of some, but by no means of the majority of the scientists of our time. We venture the assertion that it is no part of the doctrine of modern science, neither does it follow as a logical consequence from any of the accepted principles of modern science, nor does it reflect the real feeling of the best exponents of modern science.
Dr. Tyndall stands as one of the most popular exponents of scientific knowledge, and may be regarded as a fair representative of the feelings of many scientific men. And in his estimation "the problem of problems of our day is to find a legitimate satisfaction for the religious emotions." He admits that these religious emotions are inexpugnable facts of human nature, as certain and as incontestable as the facts of physics. Now what is meant by a legitimate satisfaction of the religious emotions? Does it not mean that human reverence must have a real and a worthy Object? that for human duty there must be an imperative ground of obligation? that for true loyalty of soul to truth and right there must be an eternal reason? and that the instinctive trust of the soul in everlasting righteousness and everlasting love must have a rational vindication? Where shall we look for this object? "May we look upward and onward, or have we nothing to do but yield to the pressure from behind and below?" What conception are we to form of that mysterious Power or Principle which stands in necessary correlation with the religious nature of man? Dr. Tyndall permits us "to fashion this conception as we will"—with that "he has nothing to do;" only he demands that in doing so we observe two conditions: 1. "Be careful that your conception is not an unworthy one;" "invest it with your highest and holiest thoughts." 2. Allow "no intrusion of purely creative power into any series of phenomena," no arbitrary interference with the order of nature "for special purposes." The first condition would be violated by our conceiving that Power as purely mechanical, for then the sublimest interests of our moral and spiritual life would be surrendered to the action of the same force as that which draws a stone to the earth. The conception of unconscious and unmoral force is not our highest and holiest thought—it can not inspire reverence and loyalty and love. The second condition would be violated by our regarding that Power as arbitrary—that is, as following no law; for that would be opposed to all the inductions of modern science, and would invalidate all conclusions based on the assumed permanence of natural laws. The problem, then, is to steer between the Scylla and Charybdis of mechanism and arbitrariness, and find the open sea where freedom may move in harmony with law, and where, in the grand hierarchy of laws the physical order of the world may be co-ordinated with, perhaps subordinated to, the higher reign of righteousness and love.
The solution of this problem can only be reached through the discussion of the following questions: 1. What are "the facts of religious feeling" involved in this problem, and what are the necessary correlatives of these facts? 2. What are the facts concerning the order of nature involved in the problem, and what are the logical inferences from these facts? 3. How can the conception of the Force which is manifested in the phenomena of nature be brought into harmony with the idea of God as revealed in the religious consciousness?
1. First, then, what are the facts of religious feeling which "as experiences of consciousness are perfectly beyond the assaults of logic," and what are the necessary correlatives of these facts?
We present first of all the incontestable fact that prayer is natural to man. Like our instinctive belief in the being of God, the accountability of man, and the immortality of the soul, we have also an instinctive prompting to pray, and an instinctive belief in the efficacy of prayer. This is an essentially human characteristic; it is common to all men. Man has been defined in many ways, as "a rational animal," "a social animal," "a tool-using animal," "a language-speaking animal;" with more justice may he be called "a praying animal," for prayer is a universal characteristic and fundamental differentia of man. Never has the traveler yet found a people which did not pray. Tribes of men have been found without houses, without raiment, without letters, without science, but never without prayer any more than without speech. This was remarked by Plutarch eighteen centuries ago,[415] and the researches and explorations of modern travelers and ethnologists have added confirmation to its truth. The flow of prayer from human lips is just as natural as the flow of speech. Is man in danger or in sorrow, his most natural and spontaneous refuge is in prayer. The suffering, bewildered, terror-stricken soul that knows not where to fly, flies to God. There are few men, probably no men, who in moments of extreme peril or intense anguish can resist the impulse to pray. Nature is stronger than all our logic; and, science or no science, the cry for help will rise from the lips of even skeptical men.[416]
We ask that these facts may be fully considered and fairly estimated. The instinctive tendency to pray is a universal fact of human nature, as valid and as significant as any fact in physics. It presents as rightful a claim to be taken account of in our theories of the ultimate constitution of the universe as the First Law of Motion or the Conservation of Energy. If we disregard it, our Systema Mundi will be one-sided and partial, and, instead of being a philosophy, will be only a caricature.
We do not claim that the presence in man of this instinctive tendency to pray proves the efficacy of prayer—that is, proves the existence of a living God and Father who hears and answers prayer. But it does establish a strong presumption in favor of the doctrine; for how comes it to pass that the sentiment is so perennial and so universal? Either it was originally implanted in the soul of man by the Creator, or there exists something in the constitution of nature—the "relation between the organism and its environment"—which determines this feeling in man, and in either case it must be regarded as normal, and as essential to humanity. If nature teaches us to pray, and, as it were, compels us to pray, then we are justified in the assumption that there is nothing in the ultimate constitution of nature which can contradict her own ordinances and render prayer an absurdity.
The next fact to which we desire to direct attention is that prayer is an essential element of life—we do not mean physical life, but that which gives significance and value and completeness to human existence—namely, ethical and spiritual life. That religion is deeply seated in the nature of man, and, in fact, ineradicable, is conceded by Dr. Tyndall. "No atheistical reasoning," he says, "can dislodge religion from the heart of man. Logic can not deprive us of life, and religion is life to the religious. As an experience of consciousness, it is perfectly beyond the assaults of logic."[417] This general admission that man has a religious nature, a religious consciousness, is important. The bearing of this upon our argument will be obvious when we have considered more particularly the nature and content of this "religious consciousness." In what does it consist? Into what elements is it resolvable by psychological analysis? We answer, religious consciousness is a consciousness conditioned by the idea of God, and involves a sense of dependence; a feeling of reverence; a sense of obligation; a sentiment of loyalty; a conscious community of nature; and a longing for a deeper fellowship with the Divine.
Every thing around us and every thing within us makes us conscious of limitation and dependence. We know that our own existence is not self-originated or self-sustained. We have the sense of an immanent all-pervading Life which sustains and conditions our life. We have the sentiment of an overshadowing Power and Presence which compasses us behind and before, and lays its hand upon us, and we are constrained to bow in reverence and awe before that Power which controls our destiny. With the sense of dependence is associated the feeling of obligation to conform our conduct to the will of this Supreme Being, and to subordinate the ruling purpose of our life to the Divine purpose of creation so far as that purpose can be known. There is also more or less loyalty of soul to what is just and true, a natural and constitutional sympathy of reason with the law of God—"it delights in that law," and "consents that it is good." Finally, there is the consciousness of some community of nature between God and man, and some living susceptibility to the influences and inspirations of the higher world which authorizes the belief that there may be a communion of thought, a relation of conscience, and an approach of affection between the Divine and human that shall purify and elevate our nature, and lift us up into a resemblance to God.
The bearing of all that we have just said on the necessity of prayer will have already suggested itself to the reader. The feeling of dependence, the sense of feebleness will prompt man to pray. Man is not sufficient for himself. He is not fit to be his own all in all. He has not resources within himself to supply his own spiritual wants. He needs some external succor, some support to the will, some inspiration from without. And he can become a strong man and a noble man only by aspiring and striving after something beyond and above himself—