The present age is one of very rapid progress in almost all branches of knowledge.
Like a wave swelling as it advances shoreward, this progress has violently transformed whole regions of thought, while it has repeatedly invaded others not heretofore deemed accessible to such catastrophes.
Presuming upon a soil of great natural richness, the inhabitants of these latter regions had for a long series of years given themselves up to a species of husbandry which was beginning at length to be detrimental in its effects.
It thus came to pass that while the immediate result of each inundation was a sudden alarm and consequent confusion, yet nevertheless a fertilising residuum was always left behind, together with a very plain intimation that no region of thought can permanently flourish if it be entirely cut off from any of the intellectual influences around it.
Suchlike, we take it, have been the results of the recent great floods of intellectual energy,much of them seemingly subversive, which have repeatedly invaded the region occupied by the followers of Christianity. At present there is no book more read than the Bible, no life more deeply studied and discussed than the life of Christ. There is probably a greater amount of earnest attention devoted to these subjects than to any other branch of human inquiry. Nevertheless there is great confusion, and an almost despairing outcry from many of the inhabitants of the Christian region. It is imagined that fences and landmarks have disappeared, and that at length the rising tide is about to attack, as it has long threatened, the very lives and holdings of the community.
It will be our endeavour to reassure these somewhat over-timid people. Being students of physical science, we will try to gauge the strength of the tide, and more especially of the forces which give it motion, and endeavour to convince those who are sufficiently calm to receive conviction, that there neither is nor can be any real danger to their lives and holdings from the violence of the waters; but that, on the contrary, they will ultimately receive a blessing from that which will remain behind after the present confusion has disappeared.
‘Skin for skin,’ said a certain evil one, ‘yea all that a man hath will he give for hislife,’ and the proverb is true (with a modification) as regards the life of the soul, no less than as regards that of the body. Take away all hope of a future state,—appear to demonstrate, if not with absolute certainty, yet with an approach to it, that such a condition of things is antagonistic to well-understood scientific principles, and we feel certain that the effect upon humanity would be simply disastrous.
At any rate, those who propound an argument of this kind must reasonably expect determined opposition from the followers of religion.
Let us here, before proceeding further, take the opportunity of stating that we discuss only thephysicalaspects of the argument regarding a future state. Being neither metaphysicians nor moral philosophers, we leave to others more competent than we can be the argument which may be based upon the universal craving among the intelligent races of mankind for a life beyond the grave.
In the fourth and following editions of our work, while we have not materially altered our argument, we have recast to some extent the shape in which it was first put before the reader, and this recasting has taken a more definite form in our present edition.
The large amount of friendly criticism which our work has called forth has convinced us that we did not at first sufficiently separatebetween certain conclusions which inevitably flowed from our argument, and certain others which, while deriving their strength from a totally different quarter, were yet not inconsistent with the former, but even, it might be, supported by them. The consequence has been that we have found ourselves credited with attempts which were very far from our thoughts, such, for instance, as the endeavour to deduce Christian theological doctrine from mere physical considerations.
We have therefore thought it desirable to bring in review before the reader, in this introductory chapter, the fundamental points of our argument, more especially as in what follows we may not always be able without an undesirable formality to keep separate the foundation and the superstructure.
In his justly renownedAnalogy, Bishop Butler begins with a chapter on a future life. He says with great truth that if there is an idea that death will be the destruction of living powers, that idea must arise either fromthe reason of the thingorthe analogy of nature. ‘But it does not arise (he proceeds to say) fromthe reason of the thing; for we do not know what death is. Again, we do not know on what the existence of our living powers depends; for we see them suspended in sleep, for example, orin a swoon, and still not extinguished. Neither does it arise fromthe analogy of nature; for death removes all sensible proof, and precludes us consequently from tracing out any analogy which would warrant us in inferring their destruction.’ Now, it is well known that since the days of Bishop Butler a school has arisen, the members of which assert that they have at length learned what Death is, and that in virtue of their knowledge they are in a position to tell us that life is impossible after death. It is one of the main objects of this volume to demonstrate the fallacy which underlies the argument brought forward by this school. We attempt to show that we are absolutely driven by scientific principles to acknowledge the existence of an Unseen Universe, and by scientific analogy to conclude that it is full of life and intelligence—that it is in fact a spiritual universe and not a dead one.
But while we are fully justified by scientific considerations in asserting the existence of such an unseen universe, we are not justified in assuming that we have yet attained, or can easily or perhaps ever attain, to more than a very slight knowledge of its nature. Thus we do not believe that we can really ascertain what death is.
To those, therefore, who assert that there is no spiritual unseen world, and that death is anend of the existence of the individual, we reply by simply denying their first statement, and in consequence of this denial, insisting that none of us know anything whatever about death. Indeed, it is at once apparent that a scientific denial of the possibility of life after death must be linked with at least something like a scientific proof of the non-existence of a spiritual unseen world. For if scientific analogy be against a spiritual Unseen, then evidently it is equally against the likelihood of life after death.
But if, on the other hand, we feel constrained to believe in a spiritual universe, then though it does not follow that life is certain after death, inasmuch as we do not know whether any provision has been made in this unseen world for our reception, yet it does follow that we cannot deny the possibility of a future life. For to do so would imply on our part such an exhaustive knowledge of the Unseen as would justify us in believing that no arrangement had been made in it for our transference thither. Now, our almost absolute ignorance with regard to the Unseen must prevent us from coming to any such conclusion.
We have been accused by some of our critics of being dogmatists. So far is this from being true that in the first part of our argument—namely,that which relates to a spiritual unseen:—we are content to develop from the present recognised condition of things. We take the world as we find it, and are forced by a purely scientific process to recognise the existence of an Unseen Universe.
We are likewise led to regard the Unseen as having given birth to the present universe, a conclusion to which one of our leading critics has apparently given his assent.
Here, however, we join issue with the materialistic school. They continue to insist—against all analogy as we take it—that this Unseen Universe is a dead one, having no life worthy of the name, although it must have existed for inconceivable ages before the present Universe arose.
Let our readers remark that in all this we introduce no dogma—we do not require to assert or even assume the existence of God. We are content to develop our argument from a position which is common to our adversaries and to ourselves.
An objection has been raised that our argument tends to the Swedenborgian doctrine of a spiritual body. Now, the same principles which guide us from the continuous existence of the outer world to acknowledge an Unseen, lead us on the assumption of our own existence after death to acknowledge what we may term a spiritual body. In other words, our conceptionof something which retains at once a hold upon the past and a possibility of future life assumes the form which we clothe in this or similar language.[1]But why Swedenborgian? Why not Pauline? Was it not the great Apostle who first gave utterance to his belief in these very words? If it be said to us that the way in which we regard the spiritual body is decidedly Swedenborgian, we would reply by asking our critics to tell us in what way we regard it.
We certainly hold that if we are to accept scientific principles, one of the necessary conditions of immortality is a frame surviving death, but we as resolutely maintain that of the nature of this frame we are and must probably remain profoundly ignorant.
It has likewise been objected that we do not sufficiently allow for the possibility that the present universe may be infinite, and that thus it might last for ever and continue, although spasmodically, to be the residence of living beings even in spite of the constant degradation of its energy. Unquestionably we cannot prove that the present visible universe is not infinite; this we have acknowledged in our work. But our chief argument is derived rather from the pastthan from the future. We maintain that the visible universe—that is to say the universe of atoms—must have had its origin in time, and that whileThe Universeis, in its widest sense, alike eternal and infinite, the universe of atoms certainly cannot have existed from all eternity.
While we freely confess that we cannot prove the finite magnitude of the universe of atoms, inasmuch as we cannot be sure that the stars which we see represent more than a small portion of this universe, we are unable to perceive any scientific principle which leads us to conclude that the number of such atoms must necessarily be infinite.
But whether it be finite or infinite, we have very great difficulty in imagining this universe to be eternal. Regarding the atom as something that has been developed from a previously existing unseen universe, we cannot readily believe it capable of lasting for ever. But if there be any element of decay in the material substance of the visible universe, the assumption of its present infinity will not enable us to predicate its future eternity.
Having thus defined our position, we may allow that in our earlier editions we have possibly given undue prominence to the particular argument in favour of an Unseen, which is derived from the future degradation of the energy of the present visible universe.
We come now to the second part of our subject. All that we have yet endeavoured to show is that the theory of a future life is not in any way whatever in contradiction to any ascertained facts or principles of science. But we have not succeeded in finding any proof that arrangements have been made in the Unseen world for our translation thither after death.
It has been shown that there is nothing in the whole range of science to lead us to suppose that life is impossible after death; but we have yet to inquire what evidence, if any, exists in favour of a future state. Now it is well known that the followers of Christianity believe they have received such evidence in virtue of the resurrection of Christ, and it is equally well known that of late years a school of scientific men have arisen who reject such an event as one impossible to be believed.
It is not, however, rejected mainly because it is an uncommon event, or one unconfirmed by modern experience, for it is sufficiently well known that uncommon events have a recognised place in the universe. Thus, for instance, there are certain conjunctions of the planets which are very uncommon, and have not occurred in modern experience, but we do not hesitate for a moment to believe in the possibility of their occurrence. Nay, we are in a position togo further, and to assert that at particular epochs of time, which we are capable of defining with greater or less precision, such uncommon conjunctions took place in the past, and will again take place in the future. An absolutely new comet, one which (from the fact that its orbit is hyperbolic) was probably never in the solar system before, and probably cannot again return to it, is by no means a rarity.
Now we believe that an extension of purely scientific logic drives us to receive as quite certain the occurrence of two events which are as incomprehensible as any miracle; these are:—the introduction of visible matter and its energy, and of visible living things into the universe. Furthermore, we are led by scientific analogy to regard the agency in virtue of which these two astounding events were brought about as an intelligent agency, an agency whose choice of the time for action is determined by considerations similar in their nature to those which influence a human being when he chooses the proper moment for the accomplishment of his purpose.
If this be true, the discussion regarding miracles must be removed altogether from the domain of science, and this for the very good reason that scientific logic admits the occurrence of events at least as astounding. The question is now rather one for the historian and the moralphilosopher to decide. The first of these is clearly bound to examine the evidence in favour of the life and resurrection of Christ, while the latter is bound to look around and ask what moral necessity there was for the interference of this peculiar intelligent agency, and also whether, as a matter of fact, the interference has proved beneficial.
But neither of these two ways of regarding the subject is at all cognate to our inquiry.
We simply show that a reception of the miracles of Christ leads to no intellectual confusion. Meanwhile, there are some who regard such a reception as tending to historical confusion, or to moral confusion, or to both; but with these sources of doubt we have nothing whatever to do. It may be thought by some of our readers that here our discussion ought to end; but, as it appears to us, there yet remains another point vitally connected with our inquiry. There is, perhaps, hardly a human being who seriously questions the moral beauty of the character of Christ; there are many who question the truth of the miracles recorded as having been wrought by Him; while still more, it may be, question the truth of certain of His sayings, especially such as have reference to the constitution of the Unseen world.
Entertaining the most profound reverence forChrist Himself, many of the latter class, rather than believe that Christ enuntiated the doctrine to which they object, maintain that it may have been a late human fiction which grew up with and finally incrusted itself around the true sayings of Christ: some again maintain that the sayings were really those of Christ, but insist that the common interpretation of them is erroneous. On this account we conceive that in order to complete our programme we should extend our inquiry beyond the miracles of Christ so as to embrace those of His sayings which have reference to Himself and to the constitution of the Unseen world. We are thus led to the consideration of another subject, which is, we venture to think, intimately connected with that which appears on our title-page; and in this respect the Bishop of Manchester has very clearly defined our position by stating that (from a purely physical point of view) we contend for the possibility of immortality and of a personal God.
We must now, however, start from a new basis and assume the existence of a Deity who is the Creator and Upholder of all things. It is not our intention to enter into the argument by which the existence of a Deity may be derived from a consideration of His works. Here, therefore, we must necessarily part companywith our materialistic friends, for while they may have been content to go along with us in our first argument to a greater or less length, they will most assuredly not even set foot upon the second stage of our journey. We cannot help it.
Assuming therefore the existence of a Deity, who is the Creator and Upholder of all things, we further look upon the laws of the universe as those laws according to which the beings in the universe are conditioned by the Governor thereof, as regards time, place, and sensation.
Nothing whatever lies, or can be even conceived to lie, outside of this sovereign and paramount influence. There is no impression made upon the bodily senses—no thought or other mental operation which does not take place under conditions imposed by the will of God.
If it be asked how we can imagine any free-will or moral responsibility to exist consistently with this doctrine, we may reply that we cannot tell in virtue of what peculiar constitution of things the sovereignty of God is consistent with our moral responsibility, nor can we even conceive the possibility of our obtaining the knowledge requisite to reply to this question. But it may, we think, be shown that the doctrine of the sovereign power of God as above defined is not inconsistent with moral responsibility.For in the statement made three things are spoken of.In the first place, there is God, the source of power;secondly, there are the conditions which He imposes; andthirdly, there is the Ego, the being who is thus conditioned. Now, the laws of thought absolutely forbid our dismissing this Ego. It may possibly be argued that we consist of a bundle of sensations bound together, just as a bundle of threads are, by something which is no less a sensation, namely, the impression that we have an individual existence and moral responsibility; to which we would reply that even if this be granted we must submit to impressions from which there is no escape.
Now, it appears to us that we cannot possibly have any impression more deeply seated or more impossible to uproot than this:—that we ourselves exist and are responsible; it is something which we continually carry about with us, even into the grotesque regions of thought, where all individuality is denied. It is into these regions that the materialists invite us to accompany them in order to perform, or rather to delude ourselves with the idea that we have performed, this singularly unhappy despatch! But, just as we cannot conceive of a man swallowing up himself, so neither can we conceive of his getting rid of his own individuality by any legitimate process of thought. Can weconceive of consciousness without a being who is conscious? or of sensation without a being who feels? We may perhaps take it for granted that the statements we have now made, acknowledging at once a Sovereign Power and our own moral responsibility, will commend themselves to a large body of thinkers who will virtually agree with our conclusions. It is to these we would now address ourselves, inviting them to accompany us upon the second stage of our journey.
Let us here, therefore, regarding ourselves as moral and intellectual beings, bear in mind that there are various avenues through which we receive instruction. We do not, of course, mean that these avenues are absolutely separate from each other, inasmuch as they must all somehow or other merge into the one grand avenue through which we perceive the Sovereign Power of God. Such avenues are,—the study of matter and its laws,—communion with our fellows, and—example.
Now why should not all these various avenues be filled with the knowledge of God, thus effecting the displacement of a vast throng of mean and loathsome influences which would otherwise run riot there?
Surely that must be a singular process of reasoning by which the Most High is altogether banished from these avenues into which it isalleged He cannot possibly condescend to enter. We are confident there is some misapprehension here; let us therefore try to point out its probable nature.
We have assumed that a study of creation leads us up to some conception of God—that we are driven by the faculties which He has given us to acknowledge the existence of a Paramount Power, and inasmuch as scientific thought leads us to regardThe Universeas both infinite and eternal, so are we driven to regard this Power which underlies all phenomena as infinite and eternal also.
This at least appears to us to be the conclusion to which we are driven if we endeavour to reduce mental confusion to a minimum. It is, however, manifestly absurd to imagine that by means of this process we can ever comprehend the essential nature of God. We can no more comprehend His essential nature by this means than we can the essential nature of matter or of life. But surely we can judge of His character by the various modes in which He influences us, and indeed all scientific generalisations—even the simple conclusion that the sun will rise to-morrow—are in a sense expressions of our faith in the unchanging character of God. Now if we examine the process by which we have obtained this conception of Godit will be seen that we start with a single intellectual being who is applying himself to a scientific study of the works of nature. The idea of our neighbour does not enter into it, and we agree to regard ourselves as intellectual rather than as moral or social beings. The result is that having voluntarily confined our argument to one channel, we obtain a knowledge of God’s character—that is to say, of His manifested relations towards us—which is necessarily incomplete. But are we therefore entitled to say:—Because we obtain a very imperfect conception of God by this method, we will not believe there is any other method by which this conception may be rendered more complete?
Sound argument, it appears to us, leads the other way altogether. For if we assume that the knowledge of God derived from one source is incomplete, ought we not to try whether it can be supplemented by knowledge derived from other sources? Undoubtedly if other sources furnish, or seem to furnish, conceptions of God which are fundamentally inconsistent with that which we have derived through the scientific channel, we are entitled to sit in intellectual judgment upon them until the source of confusion is in some way removed.
But does this inconsistency as a matter of fact exist? We do not think it does. Thestatements in the New Testament scriptures regarding God are necessarily mysterious, but mystery can be no test of their truth or falsehood, inasmuch as it must in such regions be the almost inevitable accompaniment of truth.
The question is not whether they are mysterious, but whether they are consistent with themselves, and with the knowledge we derive from other sources. We therefore devote considerable portions of this volume to a proof that the conception of God which the majority of Christians derive from the New Testament is in no way inconsistent with that deduced from scientific principles.
Meanwhile, and in conclusion, we must be allowed to express our conviction that much evil has been wrought by a certain class of sincere and well-meaning men in the various churches of Christ. By dint of contemplating lofty truths from one point of view, and only one, and by dint of developing excessively, and in one direction only, those analogies by which the mysterious has been rendered thinkable, they have produced a result for which they themselves are mainly to blame. With a strange reversal of the process by which Satan transforms himself into an Angel of Light, we have the noble, the beautiful, and the true presented to us by these men in a form which isfit only to inspire aversion or to create disgust.
It is in such terms that we reply to those of our critics, on the one hand, who attack us for adopting what they call a narrow and gloomy theology; and to those, on the other hand, who regard as dangerous the method of discussion we have pursued. We have tried honestly to view things with two eyes,—the eye of knowledge and the eye of faith: first with one, then with the other, finally with both. To what extent we have succeeded is, after all, a matter of minor importance if only the lawfulness of this mode of vision be ultimately allowed. And just as we have a better appretiation of the form and distance of natural objects when we view them with both our physical eyes, so, we venture to think, must it prove with the truths of which we now speak.
We have explained that the first part of our argument is altogether independent of revelation; proceeding as it does solely upon scientific data, and the conclusions which these seem to render inevitable. In the second part, however, we feel that we ought not to deprive ourselves of the overwhelming additional evidence which we derive from Christian records. Here, therefore, we shall neither gratify one class of ourcritics by starting from a point which ignores what we regard as the fully warranted belief of the great majority of Christians, nor shall we be overruled by the excessive timidity of another class who apparently regard a two-eyed man as a monster in those regions where truths of really vital importance are concerned.
The horrors and blasphemies of Materialism are at least every first day of the week so fully treated by many theologians that it is almost unnecessary for us to say anything on their view of the subject, especially as we could not compete with the great majority of them in strength and happy audacity of language. We would therefore content ourselves with mildly inquiring what sort of regard for the image of the Divine in humanity is shown by those whose creed levels us all with ‘the beasts thatperish.’ Even the antient Pagans were less disposed to suchmonstrosities:—
‘. . . . . . . . .finxit in effigiem moderantum cuncta Deorum.pronaque cum spectent animalia cetera terram,os homini sublime dedit: cœlumque tuerijussit, et erectos ad sidera tollere vultus.sic, modo quae fuerat rudis et sine imagine, tellusinduit ignotas hominum conversa figuras.’
‘. . . . . . . . .finxit in effigiem moderantum cuncta Deorum.pronaque cum spectent animalia cetera terram,os homini sublime dedit: cœlumque tuerijussit, et erectos ad sidera tollere vultus.sic, modo quae fuerat rudis et sine imagine, tellusinduit ignotas hominum conversa figuras.’
‘. . . . . . . . .
finxit in effigiem moderantum cuncta Deorum.
pronaque cum spectent animalia cetera terram,
os homini sublime dedit: cœlumque tueri
jussit, et erectos ad sidera tollere vultus.
sic, modo quae fuerat rudis et sine imagine, tellus
induit ignotas hominum conversa figuras.’
It is well for the human race that such sophistical doctrines as those of Materialismare as yet received by a small minority only. ‘If in this life alone we have hope,’ we should be led by common sense and prudence to make the best of it, our neighbour’s sufferings notwithstanding. At least we should listen to him only as did the judge ‘who neither feared God, nor regarded man,’ when he said, ‘This widow troubleth me; I will avenge her, lest by her continual coming she weary me.’
We would conclude by observing that the natural disinclination to receive as true a religion whose very first effect is ‘to convict the world of sin,’ is admirably set forth in the striking words of Peter[2]: ‘Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.’