Thoughts on Religion

I propose to consider, in a series of three papers, the influence of Science upon Religion. In doing this I shall seek to confine myself to the strictly rational aspect of the subject, without travelling into any matters of sentiment. Moreover, I shall aim at estimating in the first instance the kind and degree of influence which has been exerted by Science upon Religion in the past, and then go on to estimate the probable extent of this influence in the future.

The first two papers will be devoted to the past and prospective influence of Science upon Natural Religion, while the third will be devoted to the past and prospective influence of Science upon Revealed Religion[19].

Few subjects have excited so much interest of late years as that which I thus mark out for discussion. This can scarcely be considered a matter of surprise, seeing that the influence in question is not only very direct, but also extremely important from every point of view. For generations and for centuries in succession Religion maintained an undisputed sway over men's minds-if not always as a practical guide in matters of conduct, at least as a regulator of belief. Even among the comparatively few who in previous centuries professedly rejected Christianity, there can be no doubt that their intellectual conceptions were largely determined by it: for Christianity being then the only court of appeal with reference to all these conceptions, even the few minds which were professedly without its jurisdiction could scarcely escape its indirect influence through the minds of others. But as side by side with the venerable institution a new court of appeal was gradually formed, we cannot wonder that it should have come to be regarded in the light of a rival to the old-more especially as the searching methods of its inquiry and the certain character of its judgements were much more in consonance with the requirements of an age disposed to scepticism. And this spirit of rivalry is still further fostered by the fact that Science has unquestionably exerted upon Religion what Mr. Fiske terms a 'purifying influence.' That is to say, not only are the scientific methods of inquiry after truth more congenial to sceptical minds than are the religious methods (which may broadly be defined as accepting truth on authority), but the results of the former have more than once directly contradicted those of the latter: science has in several cases incontestably demonstrated that religious teaching has been wrong as to matters of fact. Further still, the great advance of natural knowledge which has characterized the present century, has caused our ideas upon many subjects connected with philosophy to undergo a complete metamorphosis. A well-educated man of the present day is absolutely precluded from regarding some of the Christian dogmas from the same intellectual standpoint as his forefathers, even though he may still continue to accept them in some other sense. In short, our whole key of thinking or tone of thought having been in certain respects changed, we can no longer anticipate that in these respects it should continue to harmonize with the unalterable system of theology.

Such I conceive to be the ways in which Science has exerted her influence upon Religion, and it is needless to dwell upon the potency of their united effect. No one can read even a newspaper without perceiving how great this effect has been. On the one hand, sceptics are triumphantly confident that the light of dawning knowledge has begun finally to dispel the darkness of superstition, while religious persons, on the other hand, tremble to think what the future, if judged by the past, is likely to bring forth. On both sides we have free discussion, strong language, and earnest canvassing. Year by year stock is taken, and year by year the balance is found to preponderate in favour of Science.

This being the state of things of the present time, I think that with the experience of the kind and degree of influence which Science has exerted upon Religion in the past, we have material enough whereby to estimate the probable extent of such influence in the future. This, therefore, I shall endeavour to do by seeking to define, on general principles, the limits within which it is antecedently possible that the influence in question can be exercised. But in order to do this, it is necessary to begin by estimating the kind and degree of the influence which has been exerted by Science upon Religion in the past.

Thus much premised, we have in the first place to define the essential nature both of Science and of Religion: for this is clearly the first step in an analysis which has for its object an estimation of the actual and possible effects of one of these departments of thought upon the other.

Science, then, is essentially a department of thought having exclusive reference to the Proximate. More particularly, it is a department of thought having for its object the explanation of natural phenomena by the discovery of natural (or proximate) causes. In so far as Science ventures to trespass beyond this her only legitimate domain, and seeks to interpret natural phenomena by the immediate agency of supernatural or ultimate causes, in that degree has she ceased to be physical science, and become ontological speculation. The truth of this statement has now been practically recognized by all scientific workers; and terms describing final causes have been banished from their vocabulary in astronomy, chemistry, geology, biology, and even in psychology.

Religion, on the other hand, is a department of thought having no less exclusive reference to the Ultimate. More particularly, it is a department of thought having for its object a self-conscious and intelligent Being, which it regards as a Personal God, and the fountain-head of all causation. I am, of course, aware that the term Religion has been of late years frequently used in senses which this definition would not cover; but I conceive that this only shows how frequently the term in question has been abused. To call any theory of things a Religion which does not present any belief in any form of Deity, is to apply the word to the very opposite of that which it has hitherto been used to denote. To speak of the Religion of the Unknowable, the Religion of Cosmism, the Religion of Humanity, and so forth, where the personality of the First Cause is not recognized, is as unmeaning as it would be to speak of the love of a triangle, or the rationality of the equator. That is to say, if any meaning is to be extracted from the terms at all, it is only to be so by using them in some metaphorical sense. We may, for instance, say that there is such a thing as a Religion of Humanity, because we may begin by deifying Humanity in our own estimation, and then go on to worship our ideal. But by thus giving Humanity the name of Deity we are not really creating a new religion: we are merely using a metaphor, which may or may not be successful as a matter of poetic diction, but which most assuredly presents no shred of value as a matter of philosophical statement. Indeed, in this relation it is worse than valueless: it is misleading. Variations or reversals in the meanings of words are not of uncommon occurrence in the ordinary growth of languages; but it is not often that we find, as in this case, the whole meaning of a term intentionally and gratuitously changed by the leaders of philosophical thought. Humanity, for example, is an abstract idea of our own making: it is not an object any more than the equator is an object. Therefore, if it were possible to construct a religion by this curious device of metaphorically ascribing to Humanity the attributes of Deity, it ought to be as logically possible to construct, let us say, a theory of brotherly regard towards the equator, by metaphorically ascribing to it the attributes of man. The distinguishing features of any theory which can properly be termed a Religion, is that it should refer to the ultimate source, or sources, of things: and that it should suppose this source to be of an objective, intelligent, and personal nature. To apply the term Religion to any other theory is merely to abuse it.

From these definitions, then, it appears that the aims and methods of Science are exclusively concerned with the ascertaining and the proof of the proximate How of things and processes physical: her problem is, as Mill states it, to discover what are the fewest number of (phenomenal) data which, being granted, will explain the phenomena of experience. On the other hand, Religion is not in any way concerned with causation, further than to assume that all things and all processes are ultimately due to intelligent personality. Religion is thus, as Mr. Spencer says, 'an à priori theory of the universe'-to which, however, we must add, 'and a theory which assumes intelligent personality as the originating source of the universe.' Without this needful addition, a religion would be in no way logically distinguished from a philosophy.

From these definitions, then, it clearly follows that in their purest forms, Science and Religion really have no point of logical contact. Only if Science could transcend the conditions of space and time, of phenomenal relativity, and of all human limitations, only then could Science be in a position to touch the supernatural theory of Religion. But obviously, if Science could do this, she would cease to be Science. In soaring above the region of phenomena and entering the tenuous aether of noumena, her present wings, which we call her methods, would in such an atmosphere be no longer of any service for movement. Out of time, out of place, and out of phenomenal relation, Science could no longer exist as such.

On the other hand, Religion in its purest form is equally incompetent to affect Science. For, as we have already seen, Religion as such is not concerned with the phenomenal sphere: her theory of ontology cannot have any reference to the How of phenomenal causation. Hence it is evident that, as in their purest or most ideal forms they move in different mental planes, Science and Religion cannot exhibit interference.

Thus far the remarks which I have made apply equally to all forms of Religion, as such, whether actual or possible, and in so far as the Religion is pure. But it is notorious that until quite recently Religion did exercise upon Science, not only an influence, but an overpowering influence. Belief in divine agency being all but universal, while the methods of scientific research had not as yet been distinctly formulated, it was in previous generations the usual habit of mind to refer any natural phenomenon, the physical causation of which had not been ascertained, to the more or less immediate causal action of the Deity. But we now see that this habit of mind arose from a failure to distinguish between the essentially distinct characters of Science and Religion as departments of thought, and therefore that it was only so far as the Religion of former times was impure-or mixed with the ingredients of thought which belong to Science-that the baleful influence in question was exerted. The gradual, successive, and now all but total abolition of final causes from the thoughts of scientific men, to which allusion has already been made, is merely an expression of the fact that scientific men as a body have come fully to recognize the fundamental distinction between Science and Religion which I have stated.

Or, to put the matter in another way, scientific men as a body-and, indeed, all persons whose ideas on such matters are abreast of the times-perceive plainly enough that a religious explanation of any natural phenomenon is, from a scientific point of view, no explanation at all. For a religious explanation consists in referring the observed phenomenon to the First Cause-i.e. to merge that particular phenomenon in the general or final mystery of things. A scientific explanation, on the other hand, consists in referring the observed phenomenon to its physical causes, and in no case can such an explanation entertain the hypothesis of a final cause without abandoning its character as a scientific explanation. For example, if a child brings me a flower and asks why it has such a curious form, bright colour, sweet perfume, and so on, and if I answer, Because God made it so, I am not really answering the child's question: I am merely concealing my ignorance of Nature under a guise of piety, and excusing my indolence in the study of botany. It was the appreciation of this fact that led Mr. Darwin to observe in his Origin of Species that the theory of creation does not serve to explain any of the facts with which it is concerned, but merely re-states these facts as they are observed to occur. That is to say, by thus merging the facts as observed into the final mystery of things, we are not even attempting to explain them in any scientific sense: for it would be obviously possible to get rid of the necessity of thus explaining any natural phenomenon whatsoever by referring it to the immediate causal action of the Deity. If any phenomenon were actually to occur which did proceed from the immediate causal action of the Deity, then ex hypothesi, there would be no physical causes to investigate, and the occupation of Othello, in the person of a man of science, would be gone. Such a phenomenon would be miraculous, and therefore from its very nature beyond the reach of scientific investigation.

Properly speaking, then, the religious theory of final causes does not explain any of the phenomena of Nature: it merely re-states the phenomena as observed-or, if we prefer so to say, it is itself an ultimate and universal explanation of all possible phenomena taken collectively. For it must be admitted that behind all possible explanations of a scientific kind, there lies a great inexplicable, which just because of its ultimate character, cannot be merged into anything further-that is to say, cannot be explained. 'It is what it is,' is all that we can say of it: 'I am that I am' is all that it could say of itself. And it is in referring phenomena to this inexplicable source of physical causation that the theory of Religion essentially consists. The theory of Science, on the other hand, consists in the assumption that there is always a practically endless chain of physical causation to investigate-i.e. an endless series of phenomena to be explained. So that, if we define the process of explanation as the process of referring observed phenomena to their adequate causes, we may say that Religion, by the aid of a general theory of things in the postulation of an intelligent First Cause, furnishes to her own satisfaction an ultimate explanation of the universe as a whole, and therefore is not concerned with any of those proximate explanations or discovery of second causes, which form the exclusive subject-matter of Science. In other words, we recur to the definitions already stated, to the effect that Religion is a department of thought having, as such, exclusive reference to the Ultimate, while Science is a department of thought having, as such, no less exclusive reference to the Proximate. When these two departments of thought overlap, interference results, and we find confusion. Therefore it was that when the religious theory of final causes intruded upon the field of scientific inquiry, it was passing beyond its logical domain; and seeking to arrogate the function of explaining this or that phenomenon in detail, it ceased to be a purely religious theory, while at the same time and for the same reason it blocked the way of scientific progress[20].

This remark serves to introduce one of the chief topics with which I have to deal-viz. the doctrine of Design in Nature, and thus the whole question of Natural Religion in its relation to Natural Science. In handling this topic I shall endeavour to take as broad and deep a view as I can of the present standing of Natural Religion, without waiting to show step by step the ways and means by which it has been brought into this position, by the influence of Science.

In the earliest dawn of recorded thought, teleology in some form or another has been the most generally accepted theory whereby the order of Nature is explained. It is not, however, my object in this paper to trace the history of this theory from its first rude beginnings in Fetishism to its final development in Theism. I intend to devote myself exclusively to the question as to the present standing of this theory, and I allude to its past history only in order to examine the statement which is frequently made, to the effect that its general prevalence in all ages and among all peoples of the world lends to it a certain degree of 'antecedent credibility.' With reference to this point, I should say, that, whether or not the order of Nature is due to a disposing Mind, the hypothesis of mental agency in Nature-or, as the Duke of Argyll terms it, the hypothesis of 'anthropopsychism'-must necessarily have been the earliest hypothesis. What we find in Nature is the universal prevalence of causation, and long before the no less universal equivalency between causes and effects-i.e. the universal prevalence of natural law-became a matter of even the [vaguest] appreciation, the general fact that nothing happens without a cause of some kind was fully recognized. Indeed, the recognition of this fact is not only presented by the lowest races of the present day, but, as I have myself given evidence to show, likewise by animals and infants[21]. And therefore, it appears to me probable that those psychologists are right who argue that the idea of cause is intuitive, in the same sense that the ideas of space and time are intuitive-i.e. the instinctive or [inherited] effect of ancestral experience.

Now if it is thus a matter of certainty that the recognition of causality in Nature is co-extensive with, and even anterior to, the human mind, it appears to me no less certain that the first attempt at assigning a cause of this or that observed event in Nature-i.e. the first attempts at a rational explanation of the phenomena of Nature-must have been of an anthropopsychic kind. No other explanation was, as it were, so ready to hand as that of projecting into external Nature the agency of volition, which was known to each individual as the apparent fountain-head of causal activity so far as he and his neighbours were concerned. To reach this most obvious explanation of causality in Nature, it did not require that primitive man should know, as we know, that the very conception of causality arises out of our sense of effort in voluntary action; it only required that this should be the fact, and then it must needs follow that when any natural phenomenon was thought about at all with reference to its causality, the cause inferred should be one of a psychical kind. I need not wait to trace the gradual integration of this anthropopsychic hypothesis from its earliest and most diffused form of what we may term polypsychism (wherein the causes inferred were almost as personally numerous as the effects contemplated), through polytheism (wherein many effects of a like kind were referred to one deity, who, as it were, took special charge over that class), up to monotheism (wherein all causation is gathered up into the monopsychism of a single personality): it is enough thus briefly to show that from first to last the hypothesis of anthropopsychism is a necessary phase of mental evolution under existing conditions, and this whether or not the hypothesis is true.

Thus viewed, I do not think that 'the general consent of mankind' is a fact of any argumentative weight in favour of the anthropopsychic theory-so far, I mean, as the matter of causation is concerned-whether this be in fetishism or in the teleology of our own day: the general consent of mankind in the larger question of theism (where sundry other matters besides causation fail to be considered) does not here concern us. Indeed, it appears to me that if we are to go back to the savages for any guarantee of our anthropopsychic theory, the pledge which we receive is of worse than no value. As well might we conclude that a match is a living organism, because this is to the mind of a savage the most obvious explanation of its movements, as conclude on precisely similar grounds that our belief in teleology derives any real support from any of the more primitive phases of anthropopsychism.

It seems to me, therefore, that in seeking to estimate the evidence of design in Nature, we must as it were start de novo, without reference to anterior beliefs upon the subject. The question is essentially one to be considered in the light of all the latest knowledge that we possess, and by the best faculties of thinking that we (the heirs of all the ages) are able to bring to bear upon it. I shall, therefore, only allude to the history of anthropopsychism in so far as I may find it necessary to do so for the sake of elucidating my argument.

And here it is needful to consider first what Paley called 'the state of the argument' before the Darwinian epoch. This is clearly and tersely presented by Paley in his classical illustration of finding a watch upon a heath-an illustration so well known that I need not here re-state it. I will merely observe, therefore, that it conveys, as it were in one's watch-pocket, the whole of the argument from design; and that it is not in my opinion open to the stricture which was passed upon it by Mill where he says,-'The inference would not be from marks of design, but because I already know by direct experience that watches are made by men.' This appears to me to miss the whole point of Paley's meaning, for there would be obviously no argument at all unless he be understood to mean that the evidence of design which is supposed to be afforded by examination of the watch, is supposed to be afforded by this examination only, and not from any of the direct knowledge alluded to by Mill. For the purposes of the illustration, it must clearly be assumed that the finder of the watch has no previous or direct knowledge touching the manufacture of watches. Apart from this curious misunderstanding, Mill was at one with Paley upon the whole subject.

Again, it is no real objection to the argument or illustration to say, as we often have said, that it does not account for the watchmaker. The object of the argument from design is to prove the existence of a designer: not to explain that existence. Indeed, it would be suicidal to the whole argument in its relation to Theism, if the possibility of any such explanation were entertained; for such a possibility could only be entertained on the supposition that the being of the Deity admits of being explained-i.e. that the Deity is not ultimate.

Lastly, the argument is precisely the same as that which occurs in numerous passages of Scripture and in theological writings all over the world down to the present time. That is to say, everywhere in organic nature we meet with innumerable adaptations of means to ends, which in very many cases present a degree of refinement and complexity in comparison with which the adaptations of means to ends in a watch are but miserable and rudimentary attempts at mechanism. No one can know so well as the modern biologist in what an immeasurable degree the mechanisms which occur in such profusion in nature surpass, in every form of excellence, the highest triumphs of human invention. Hence at first sight it does unquestionably appear that we could have no stronger or better evidence of purpose than is thus afforded. In the words of Paley: 'arrangement, disposition of parts, subserviency of means to an end, relation of instruments to a use, imply the presence of intelligence and mind.'

But next the question arises, Although such things certainly [may][22] imply the presence of mind as their explanatory cause, are we entitled to assume that there can be in nature no other cause competent to produce these effects? This is a question which never seems to have occurred to Paley, Bell, Chalmers, or indeed to any of the natural theologians up to the time of Darwin. This, I think, is a remarkable fact, because the question is one which, as a mere matter of logical form, appears to lie so much upon the surface. But nevertheless the fact remains that natural theologians, so far as I know without exception, were satisfied to assume as an axiom that mechanism could have no cause other than that of a designing mind; and therefore their work was restricted to tracing out in detail the number and the excellency of the mechanisms which were to be met with in nature. It is, however, obvious that the mere accumulation of such cases can have no real, or logical, effect upon the argument. The mechanisms which we encounter in nature are so amazing in their perfections, that the attentive study of any one of them would (as Paley in his illustration virtually, though not expressly, contends) be sufficient to carry the whole position, if the assumption be conceded that mechanism can only be due to mind. Therefore the argument is not really, or logically, strengthened by the mere accumulation of any number of special cases of mechanism in nature, all as mechanisms similar in kind. Let us now consider this argument.

If we are disposed to wonder why natural theologians prior to the days of Darwin were content to assume that mind is the only possible cause of mechanism, I think we have a ready answer in the universal prevalence of their belief in special creation. For I think it is unquestionable that, upon the basis of this belief, the assumption is legitimate. That is to say, if we start with the belief that all species of plants and animals were originally introduced to the complex conditions of their several environments suddenly and ready made (in some such manner as watches are turned out from a manufactory), then I think we are reasonably entitled to assume that no conceivable cause, other than that of intelligent purpose, could possibly be assigned in explanation of the effects. It is, of course, needless to observe that in so far as this previous belief in special creation was thus allowed to affect the argument from design, that argument became an instance of circular reasoning. And it is, perhaps, equally needless to observe that the mere fact of evolution, as distinguished from special creation-or of the gradual development of living mechanisms, as distinguished from their sudden and ready-made apparition-would not in any way affect the argument from design, unless it could be shown that the process of evolution admits the possibility of some other cause which is not admitted by the hypothesis of special creation. But this is precisely what is shown by the theory of evolution as propounded by Darwin. That is to say, the theory of the gradual development of living mechanisms propounded by Darwin, is something more than a theory of gradual development as distinguished from sudden creation. It is this, but it is also a theory of a purely scientific kind which seeks to explain the purely physical causes of that development. And this is the point where natural science begins to exert her influence upon natural theology-or the point where the theory of evolution begins to affect the theory of design. As this is a most important part of our subject, and one upon which an extraordinary amount of confusion at the present time prevails, I shall in my next paper carefully consider it in all its bearings.

FOOTNOTES:

[19] [The third paper is not published because Romanes' views on the relation between science and faith in Revealed Religion are better and more maturely expressed in the Notes.-Ed.]

[20] To avoid misunderstanding I may observe that in the above definitions I am considering Religion and Science under the conditions in which they actually exist. It is conceivable that under other conditions these two departments of thought might not be so sharply separated. Thus, for instance, if a Religion were to appear carrying a revelation to Science upon matters of physical causation, such a Religion (supposing the revelation were found by experiment to be true) ought to be held to exercise upon Science a strictly legitimate influence.

[21] Mental Evolution in Animals, pp. 155-8.

[22] [I have put 'may' in place of 'do' for the sake of argument.-Ed.]

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