Literary work--'Tancred; or, the New Crusade'--Modern philosophy--The
'Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation'--'Life of Lord George
Bentinck'--Disraeli's religious views--Revelation as opposed to
science--Dislike and dread of Rationalism--Religion and
statesmanship--The national creed the supplement of the national
law--Speech in the theatre at Oxford--Disraeli on the side of the
angels.
[Sidenote: 'TANCRED']
As Disraeli's public life grew more absorbing his literary work was
necessarily suspended. But before the weight of leadership was finally
laid upon him he had written two more books--'Tancred; or, the New
Crusade,' the third of the series of novels which he called a trilogy,
and the biography of his friend and comrade Lord George Bentinck.
'Tancred' of all his writings was that which he himself most esteemed.
When it was composed he was still under the illusion of a possible
regenerated aristocracy. He saw that they had noble qualities, but they
wanted the inspiration of a genuine religious belief. Tancred, the only
child and heir of a ducal family, is an enthusiastic and thoughtful
youth with high aspirations after excellence. He is a descendant of the
Crusaders, and his mind turns back to the land which was the birthplace
of his nominal creed. There alone the Maker of the universe had held
direct communication with man. There alone, perhaps, it was likely that
He would communicate with his creature again. Christian Europe still
regarded the Israelites as the chosen people. Half of it still
worshipped a Jew and the other half a Jewess. But between criticism and
science and materialism, and the enervating influence of modern habits,
the belief which lingered in form had lost its commanding power.
Before the diseases of society could be cured the creed must be restored
to its authority. The Tractarians were saying the same thing in tones of
serious conviction. Disraeli, the politician and the man of the world,
was repeating it in a tone which wavered between mockery and
earnestness, the mockery, perhaps, being used as a veil to cover
feelings more real than they seemed.
Tancred, on leaving the University where he had brilliantly
distinguished himself, is plunged into the London world. He meets
attractive beings, whose souls, he imagines, must be as beautiful as
their faces. One illusive charmer proves to be a gambler on the Stock
Exchange; another has been studying the 'Vestiges of the Natural History
of Creation,' called here 'Revelations of Chaos,' and expounds the great
mystery to him in a gilded drawing-room.
'"The subject is treated scientifically," said the Lady Constance.
"Everything is explained by geology and astronomy, and in that way it
shows you exactly how a star is formed. Nothing can be so pretty, a
cluster of vapour, the cream of the Milky Way, a sort of celestial
cheese churned into light. You must read it. 'Tis charming."
'"Nobody ever saw a star formed," said Tancred.
'"Perhaps not. You must read the 'Revelations;' it is all explained. But
what is more interesting is the way in which man has been developed. You
know all is development. The principle is perpetually going on. First
there was nothing; then there was something; then--I forget the next. I
think there were shells, then fishes. Then came--let me see--did we come
next? Never mind that; we came at last, and at the next change there
will be something very superior to us, something with wings. Ah, that is
it! we were fishes. I believe we shall be crows; but you must read it."
'"I do not believe I ever was a fish," said Tancred.
'"Oh! but it is all proved. Read the book. It is impossible to
contradict anything in it; you understand it is all science. Everything
is proved by geology, you know. You see exactly how everything is made,
how many worlds there have been, how long they lasted, what went before,
what comes next. We are a link in the chain as inferior animals were
that preceded us. We in time shall be inferior. All that will remain of
us will be some relics in a new Red Sandstone. This is development. We
had fins; we may have wings."'
The theory thus airily sketched has been established since, in a more
completed argument, by Darwin. Such solid evidence as there is for it
has been before mankind for thousands of years, and has not seemed
unanswerable. The Jews and the Greeks knew as well as modern
philosophers that human bodies are built on the same type, and are bred
and supported by the same means as the bodies of animals; that the minds
of animals are in the same way clumsy likenesses of ours. Compared to
the real weight of these acknowledged facts the additions of Darwin, or
of the author of the 'Vestiges,' are relatively nothing. If the doctrine
of development has passed into popular acceptance, if it has been
received into Churches and adapted to Catholic theology, the
explanation is not in the increased form of evidence but in a change in
ourselves. Candid consideration of our natures, as we now find them
makes it appear not so improbable that we are but animals after all.
Tancred, fresh from Tractarian Oxford, is unconvinced. He hurries to
Palestine, sees a vision of angels on Mount Sinai, falls in love with a
Jewish maiden who is an embodied spirit of inspiration, and is
interrupted at the moment of pouring out his homage by the arrival of
'the Duke and Duchess at Jerusalem.' Whether the coming of these
illustrious persons was to end in a blessing on his enthusiasm or in
recalling him to a better recognition of what was due to his station in
society the story is silent.
The 'Life of Lord George Bentinck' is an admirably written biography of
the friend who had stood by Disraeli in his conflict with Peel, and who,
after living long enough to show promise of eminence, had suddenly and
prematurely died. To the student of the Parliamentary history of those
times the book is of great value. To the general reader the most
interesting parts of it are those which throw light on Disraeli's own
mind.
The most important fact to every man is his religion. If we would know
what a man is we ask what notions he has formed about his duty to man
and God. The question is often more easily asked than answered, for
ordinary persons repeat what they have learnt, and have formed no clear
notions at all; and the few wise, though at bottom they may be as
orthodox as a bishop, prefer usually to keep their thoughts to
themselves. Disraeli, however, in this book invites attention to his own
views. An insincere profession on such a subject forfeits the respect of
everyone, and we are entitled to examine what he says and to enquire
how far he means it.
[Sidenote: ALTERNATIVE THEORIES OF LIFE]
Those who cannot bear suspense and feel the necessity of arriving at a
positive conclusion, make their choice between two opinions--one, that
God created the world and created man to serve Him, that He gave to man
a revelation of His law and holds him answerable for disobedience to it:
the other, that the world has been generated by the impersonal forces of
nature: that all things in it, animate and inanimate, find their places
and perform their functions according to their several powers and
properties; that man having ampler faculties than other animals,
discovers the rules which are good for him to follow, as he discovers
other things, and that what he calls 'revelations' are no more than
successive products of the genius of gifted members of his race thrown
out in a series of ages. The second of these theories is what we
generally call the 'creed of science;' the first is the religious and is
represented by Judaism and Christianity. Disraeli, with a confessed
pride in belonging himself to the favoured race, desires us to
understand that he receives with full and entire conviction the fact
that a revelation was really made to his forefathers, and rejects the
opposite speculation as unsupported by evidence and degrading to human
nature. The subject is introduced in an argument for the admission of
the Jews to Parliament. He does not plead for their admission on the
principle of 'toleration,' which he rejects as indifferentism, but on
the special merits of the Jews themselves, and on their services to
mankind. He regards Christianity as simply completed Judaism. Those who
profess to be Jews only he considers unfortunate in believing only the
first part of their religion, but still as defending and asserting the
spiritual view of man's nature in opposition to the scientific, and as
holding a peculiar place in the providential dispensation. He speaks of
the mysteries of Christianity in a tone which, if not sincere, is
detestable. 'If,' he says, 'the Jews had not prevailed upon the Romans
to crucify our Lord, what would have become of the atonement? But the
human mind cannot contemplate the idea that the most important deed of
time could depend upon human will. The immolator was preordained, like
the Victim, and the holy race supplied both.' The most orthodox divine
could not use severer words of censure than Disraeli used for the
critical rationalism which treats the sacred history as a myth--for
Bishop Colenso, for the Essayists and Reviewers. His words have not the
ring of the genuine theological metal. Artificial and elaborate diction
is not the form in which simple belief expresses itself. Yet the fault
may not be entirely in Disraeli. Even when most in earnest he was
inveterately affected. It is to be remembered also that in his real
nature he remained a Jew, and his thoughts on these great subjects ran
on Asiatic rather than on European lines. We imagine that the Scriptures
must be read everywhere into the same meaning; we forget how much
European thought has passed into them through the traditions of the
Church and through the various translations. In the English version St.
Paul reasons like an Englishman. A Jew reads in St. Paul's language
allusions to oriental customs and beliefs of which Europeans know
nothing; we have therefore no reason to suspect Disraeli of insincerity
because he did not express himself as we do.
[Sidenote: RELIGION AND THE STATE]
Perhaps the truth may be this: He was a Conservative English statesman;
he knew that the English Church was the most powerful Conservative
institution still remaining. Criticism was eating into it on one side,
and ritualism on the other, breaking through the old use and wont, the
traditionary habits which were its strongest bulwarks. He wished well to
the Church. He was himself a regular communicant, and he desired to keep
it as it was. He believed in the religious principle as against the
philosophic; and from the nature of his mind he must have known that
national religions do not rest upon argument and evidence. When forms
vary from age to age and country to country no one of them can be
absolutely free from error. Plato, having drawn the model of a
commonwealth with a code of laws as precise as positive enactment can
prescribe, goes on to say that for conduct in ordinary life which law
cannot reach there is the further rule of religion. Religion, however,
is a thing which grows and cannot be made. The central idea that man is
a responsible being is everywhere the same; but the idea shapes various
forms for itself, into which legend, speculation, and prevailing
opinions necessarily enter. As time goes on, therefore, questions rise
concerning this or that fact and this or that ceremony, which if
indulged will create general scepticism. Such enquiries must be sternly
repressed. In religion lies the only guidance for human life. The wise
legislator, therefore, will regard the Church of his country as the best
support of the State. The subject will reflect that although observances
may seem offensive and stories told about the gods may seem incredible;
yet as a rule of action a system which has been the growth of ages is
infinitely more precious than any theory which he could think out for
himself. He will know that his own mind, that the mind of any single
individual, is unequal to so vast a matter, that it is of such
immeasurable consequence to him to have his conduct wisely directed
that, although the body of his religion be mortal like his own, he must
not allow it to be rudely meddled with. He may think as he likes about
the legends of Zeus and Here, but he must keep his thoughts to himself:
a man who brings into contempt the creed of his country is the deepest
of criminals; he deserves death and nothing less. Θανάτῳ ζημιούσθω, 'Let
him die for it' a remarkable expression to have been used by the wisest
and gentlest of human lawgivers.
Disraeli's opinions on these subjects were perhaps the same as Plato's.
He too may have had his uncertainties about Zeus and Here, and yet have
had no uncertainty at all about the general truth of the teaching of the
Church of England, while as a statesman he was absolutely convinced of
the necessity of supporting and defending it, defending it alike from
open enemies and from the foolish ecclesiastical revivalism into which
Tractarianism had degenerated. The strength of the Church lay in its
hold upon the habits of the people, and whoever was breaking through the
usages which time had made familiar and consecrated was equally
dangerous and mischievous. The critics were bringing in reason to decide
questions which belonged to conscience and imagination. The ritualists
were bringing back pagan superstition in a pseudo-Christian dress. He
despised the first. He did what he could to restrain the second with a
Public Worship Bill as soon as he had power to interfere. Late in his
career, when he was within view of the Premiership, he used an
opportunity of expressing his feeling on the subject in his own
characteristic manner.
[Sidenote: A SCENE AT OXFORD]
Oxford having produced the High Churchmen, was now generating
rationalists and philosophers. Intellectual society was divided into the
followers of Strauss and Darwin and those who believed that the only
alternative was the 'Summa Theologiæ.' Both streams were concentrated in
support of the Liberal leader, who was Disraeli's political antagonist;
one because he represented progress, the other because in matters
spiritual he was supposed to hold the most advanced Catholic doctrines.
In the year 1864 Disraeli happened to be on a visit at Cuddesdon, and it
happened equally that a diocesan conference was to be held at Oxford at
the time, with Bishop Wilberforce in the chair. The spiritual atmosphere
was, as usual, disturbed. The clerical mind had been doubly exercised by
the appearance of Colenso on the 'Pentateuch' and Darwin on the 'Origin
of Species.' Disraeli, to the surprise of everyone, presented himself in
the theatre. He had long abandoned the satins and silks of his youth,
but he was as careful of effect as he had ever been, and had prepared
himself in a costume elaborately negligent. He lounged into the assembly
in a black velvet shooting-coat and a wide-awake hat, as if he had been
accidentally passing through the town. It was the fashion with
University intellect to despise Disraeli as a man with neither sweetness
nor light; but he was famous, or at least notorious, and when he rose to
speak there was general curiosity. He began in his usual affected
manner, slowly and rather pompously, as if he had nothing to say beyond
perfunctory platitudes.
The Oxford wits began to compare themselves favourably with the dulness
of Parliamentary orators, when first one sentence and then another
startled them into attention. They were told that the Church was not
likely to be disestablished. It would remain, but would remain subject
to a Parliament which would not allow an _imperium in imperio_. It must
exert itself and reassert its authority, but within the limits which
the law laid down. The interest grew deeper when he came to touch on the
parties to one or other of which all his listeners belonged. High Church
and Low Church were historical and intelligible, but there had arisen
lately, the speaker said, a party called the Broad, never before heard
of. He went on to explain what Broad Churchmen were.
It would not be wise to treat the existence and influence of this
new party with contempt.... It is founded on the principle of
criticism. Now doubt is an element of criticism, and the tendency
of criticism is necessarily sceptical. It is quite possible that
such a party may arrive at conclusions which we may deem monstrous.
They may reject inspiration as a principle and miracles as a
practice. That is possible: and I think it quite logical that
having arrived at such conclusions they should repudiate creeds and
reject articles of faith, because creeds and articles of faith
cannot exist or be sustained without acknowledging the principle of
inspiration and the practice of miracles. All that I admit. But
what I do not understand, and what I wish to draw the attention of
this assembly and of this country generally to, is this: that,
having arrived at these conclusions, having arrived conscientiously
at the result that with their opinions they must repudiate creeds
and reject articles, they should not carry their principles to
their legitimate end, but are still sworn supporters of
ecclesiastical establishments, fervent upholders of or dignitaries
of the Church.... If it be true, as I am often told it is, that the
age of faith has passed, then the fact of having an opulent
hierarchy, supported by men of high cultivation, brilliant talents
and eloquence, and perhaps some ambition, with no distinctive
opinions, might be a very harmless state of affairs, and it would
certainly not be a very permanent one. But, my Lord, instead of
believing that the age of faith has passed when I observe what is
passing round us, what is taking place in this country, and not
only in this country, but in other countries and other hemispheres,
instead of believing that the age of faith has passed I hold that
the characteristic of the present age is a craving credulity. My
Lord, man is a being born to believe, and if no Church comes
forward with its title-deeds of truth sustained by the traditions
of sacred ages, and by the convictions of countless generations to
guide him, he will find altars and idols in his own heart, in his
own imagination. And what must be the relations of a powerful
Church without distinctive creeds with a being of such a nature?
Before long we shall be living in a flitting scene of spiritual
phantasmagoria. There are no tenets, however extravagant, and no
practices, however objectionable, which will not in time develop
under such a state of affairs, opinions the most absurd and
ceremonies the most revolting....
Consider the country in which all this may take place. Dangerous in
all countries, it would be yet more dangerous in England. Our
empire is now unrivalled for its extent; but the base, the material
base of that empire is by no means equal to the colossal
superstructure. It is not our iron ships, it is not our celebrated
regiments, it is not these things which have created or indeed
really maintain an empire. It is the character of the people. I
want to know where that famous character of the English people will
be if they are to be influenced and guided by a Church of immense
talent, opulence, and power without any distinctive creed. You have
in this country accumulated wealth that has never been equalled,
and probably it will still increase. You have a luxury that will
some day peradventure rival even your wealth; and the union of such
circumstances with a Church without a distinctive creed will lead,
I believe, to a dissolution of manners and morals, which prepares
the tomb of empires.
The opinions of the new school are paralysing the efforts of many
who ought to be our friends. Will these opinions succeed? My
conviction is that they will fail.... Having examined all their
writings, I believe without exception, whether they consist of
fascinating eloquence, diversified learning, or picturesque
sensibility exercised by our honoured in this University [Dean
Stanley], and whom to know is to admire and regard; or whether you
find them in the cruder conclusions of prelates who appear to have
commenced their theological studies after they have grasped the
crozier [Bishop Colenso]; or whether I read the lucubrations of
nebulous professors [Frederick Maurice] who, if they could persuade
the public to read their writings, would go far to realise that
eternal punishment which they deny; or, lastly, whether it be the
provincial arrogance and precipitate self-complacency which flash
and flare in an essay or review--I find the common characteristic
of their writings is this: that their learning is always
second-hand.... When I examine the writings of their masters, the
great scholars of Germany, I find that in their labours [also]
there is nothing new. All that inexorable logic, irresistible
rhetoric, bewildering wit could avail to popularise these views was
set in motion to impress the new learning on the minds of the two
leading nations of Europe [by the English and French deistical
writers of the last century], and they produced their effect [in
the French Revolution]. When the turbulence was over, when the
waters had subsided, the sacred heights of Sinai and of Calvary
were again revealed, and amidst the wreck of thrones, extinct
nations, and abolished laws mankind, tried by so many sorrows,
purified by so much suffering, and wise with such unprecedented
experience, bowed again before the Divine truths that Omnipotence
had entrusted to the custody and promulgation of a chosen
people....
The discoveries of science are not, we are told, consistent with
the teachings of the Church.... It is of great importance when this
tattle about science is mentioned that we should attach to the
phrase precise ideas. The function of science is the interpretation
of nature, and the interpretation of the highest nature is the
highest science. What is the highest nature? Man is the highest
nature. But I must say that when I compare the interpretation of
the highest nature by the most advanced, the most fashionable
school of modern science with some other teaching with which we are
familiar, I am not prepared to admit that the lecture-room is more
scientific than the Church. What is the question now placed before
society with a glib assurance the most astounding? The question is
this: Is man an ape or an angel? I, my Lord, I am on the side of
the angels. I repudiate with indignation and abhorrence the
contrary view, which I believe foreign to the conscience of
humanity. More than that, from the intellectual point of view the
severest metaphysical analysis is opposed to such a conclusion....
What does the Church teach us? That man is made in the image of his
Maker. Between these two contending interpretations of the nature
of man and their consequences society will have to decide. This
rivalry is at the bottom of all human affairs. Upon an acceptance
of that Divine interpretation for which we are indebted to the
Church, and of which the Church is the guardian, all sound and
salutary legislation depends. That truth is the only security for
civilisation and the only guarantee of real progress.
[Sidenote: ON THE SIDE OF THE ANGELS]
Mr. Disraeli is on the side of the angels. Pit and gallery echoed with
laughter. Fellows and tutors repeated the phrase over their port in the
common room with shaking sides. The newspapers carried the announcement
the next morning over the length and breadth of the island, and the
leading article writers struggled in their comments to maintain a decent
gravity. Did Disraeli mean it, or was it but an idle jest? and what must
a man be who could exercise his wit on such a subject? Disraeli was at
least as much in earnest as his audience.
The phrase answered its purpose. It has lived and become historical when
the decorous protests of professional divines have been forgotten with
the breath which uttered them. The note of scorn with which it rings has
preserved it better than any affectation of pious horror, which indeed
would have been out of place in the presence of such an assembly.