Against this strictly physiological conception, as against our whole

monistic view of the relations of energy and matter, of soul and

substance, the reproach of "materialism" continues to be raised. I have

repeatedly before now pointed out that this is an ambiguous party word

which conveys absolutely nothing; its apparent opposite, "spiritualism,"

could quite easily be substituted for it. Every critical thinker, who is

familiar with the history of philosophy, knows that, as systems change,

such words assume the most varied meanings, In addition to this, the word

"materialism" has the disadvantage of being liable to continual confusion

between its theoretical and practical meanings, which two are totally

distinct. Our conception of Monism, or the unity-philosophy, on the

contrary, is clear and unambiguous; for it an immaterial living spirit

is just as unthinkable as a dead, spiritless material; the two are

inseparably combined in every atom. The opposed conception of dualism (or

even pluralism in other anti-monistic systems) regards spirit and

material, energy and matter, as two essentially different substances; but

not a single empirical proof can be adduced to show that either of these

can exist or become perceptible to us by itself alone.

In thus shortly indicating the far-reaching psychological consequences of

the monistic doctrine of evolution, I trench at the same time upon a most

important field, to which our lecturer in his address has more than once

alluded--that of religion and the belief in God connected therewith. I am

at one with him in the conviction that the formation of clear

philosophical conceptions upon these fundamental matters of belief is of

the highest importance, and I would therefore crave the permission of

this assembly briefly to lay before it on this occasion a frank

confession of faith. This monistic confession has the greater claim to an

unprejudiced consideration, in that it is shared, I am firmly convinced,

by at least nine-tenths of the men of science now living; indeed, I

believe, by all men of science in whom the following four conditions are

realised: (1) Sufficient acquaintance with the various departments of

natural science, and in particular with the modern doctrine of evolution;

(2) Sufficient acuteness and clearness of judgment to draw, by induction

and deduction, the necessary logical consequences that flow from such

empirical knowledge; (3) Sufficient moral courage to maintain the

monistic knowledge, so gained, against the attacks of hostile dualistic

and pluralistic systems; and (4) Sufficient strength of mind to free

himself, by sound, independent reasoning, from dominant religious

prejudices, and especially from those irrational dogmas which have been

firmly lodged in our minds from earliest youth as indisputable

revelations.

If from this unprejudiced point of view of the thinker, we compare the

numerous religions of the various races of mankind, we shall be

compelled, in the first instance, to put aside as untenable all those

conceptions which stand in irreconcilable contradiction to those

principles of our empirical knowledge of nature which are now clearly

discerned and established by critical reasoning. We can thus at once set

aside all mythological stories, all "miracles," and so-called

"revelations," for which it is claimed that they have come to us in some

supernatural way. All such mystical teachings are irrational, inasmuch as

they are confirmed by no actual experience, but, on the contrary, are

irreconcilable with the known facts which have been confirmed to us by a

rational investigation of nature.

This is true alike of Christian and Mosaic, of Mohammedan and Indian

legends. If now we thus lay aside the whole mass of mystical dogmas and

transcendental revelations, there is left behind, as the precious and

priceless kernel of true religion, the purified ethic that rests on

rational anthropology.[18]

Among the numerous and varied forms of religion which, in the course of

the past ten thousand years and more, have been evolved from the crudest

prehistoric beginnings, the foremost rank undoubtedly belongs to those

two forms which still continue to be the most widely accepted among

civilised races--the older Buddhism and the younger Christianity. The two

have very many features in common, alike in their mythology and in their

ethics; indeed, a considerable part of Christianity has come directly

from Indian Buddhism, just as another part is drawn from the Mosaic and

Platonic systems. But, looked at from the point of view of our present

stage of culture, the ethic of Christianity appears to us much more

perfect and pure than that of any other religion. We must, it is true,

hasten to add that it is exactly the weightiest and noblest principles of

Christian ethic--brotherly love, fidelity to duty, love of truth,

obedience to law--that are by no means peculiar to the Christian faith as

such, but are of much older origin. Comparative psychology proves that

these ethical principles were more or less recognised and practised by

much older civilised races thousands of years before Christ.

Love remains the supreme moral law of rational religion, the love, that

is to say, that holds the balance between egoism and altruism, between

self-love and love of others. "Do to others as you would they should do

to you." This natural and highest command had been taught and followed

thousands of years before Christ said: "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as

thyself." In the human family this maxim has always been accepted as

self-evident; as ethical instinct it was an inheritance derived from our

animal ancestors. It had already found a place among the herds of Apes

and other social Mammals; in a similar manner, but with a wider scope, it

was already present in the most primitive communities and among the

hordes of the least advanced savages. Brotherly love--mutual support,

succour, protection, and the like---had already made its appearance among

gregarious animals as a social duty; for without it the continued

existence of such societies is impossible. Although at a later period, in

the case of man, these moral foundations of society came to be much more

highly developed, their oldest prehistoric source, as Darwin has shown,

is to be sought in the social instincts of animals. Among the higher

Vertebrates (dogs, horses, elephants, etc.), as among the higher

Articulates (ants, bees, termites, etc.) also, the development of social

relations and duties is the indispensable condition of their living

together in orderly societies. Such societies have for man also been the

most important instrument of intellectual and moral progress.

Beyond all doubt the present degree of human culture owes in great part

its perfection to the propagation of the Christian system of morals and

its ennobling influence, although the great value of this has been

impaired, often in the most deplorable manner, by its association with

untenable myths and so-called "revelations." How little these last

contribute to the perfection of the first, can be seen from the

acknowledged historical fact that it is just orthodoxy and the

hierarchical system based on it (especially that of the Papacy) that has

least of all striven to fulfil the precepts of Christian morality; the

more loudly they preach it in theory, the less do they themselves fulfil

its commands in practice.

It is, moreover, to be borne in mind that another and very considerable

portion of our modern culture and morality has been developed quite

independently of Christianity, mainly through continual study of the

highly-elaborated mental treasures of classical antiquity. The thorough

study of Greek and Roman classics has at least contributed much more to

it than that of the Christian Church fathers. To this we must now add, in

our own century (rightly called the "century of the natural sciences"),

the immense advance in the higher culture which we owe to a purified

knowledge of nature and to the monistic philosophy founded upon this.

That these must also exercise an advancing and ennobling influence cannot

be doubted, and has already been shown by many eminent authors (Spencer,

Carneri, and others) in the course of the last thirty years.[18]

Against this monistic ethic founded on a rational knowledge of nature, it

has been objected that it is fitted to undermine existing civilisation,

and especially that it encourages the subversive aims of social

democracy. This reproach is wholly unjustified. The application of

philosophical principles to the practical conditions of life, and in

particular to social and political questions, can be made in the most

various ways. Political "free-thinking," so called, has nothing whatever

to do with the "freedom of thought" of our monistic natural religion.

Moreover, I am convinced that the rational morality of monistic religion

is in no way contrary to the good and truly valuable elements of the

Christian ethic, but is destined in conjunction with these to promote the

true progress of humanity in the future.

With Christian mythology and the special form of theistic belief

associated with it the case is different. In so far as that belief

involves the notion of a "personal God," it has been rendered quite

untenable by the recent advances of monistic science. But, more than

this, it was shown more than two thousand years ago, by eminent exponents

of the monistic philosophy, that the conception of a personal God,

creator and ruler of the world, does not give the slightest help toward a

truly rational view of the world. For even if the question of "creation,"

in the ordinary and trivial sense of the term, be answered by referring

it to the miraculous agency of a creator working according to plan apart

from the world, there immediately arises upon that the new inquiry:

"Whence comes this personal God? What was He doing before creation? And

whence did He derive the material for it?" and such like questions. The

antiquated conception of an anthropomorphic personal God is destined,

before the present century is ended, to drop out of currency throughout

the entire domain of truly scientific philosophy; the corresponding

conception of a personal devil--even as late as last century connected

with the former and very generally accepted--has already been given up

once for all by all persons of education.

Let it be noted, however, in passing, that the amphitheism which believes

in God and devil alike is much more compatible with a rational

explanation of the world than pure monotheism. The purest form of this is

perhaps the amphitheism of the Zend religion of Persia, which Zoroaster

(or Zarathustra, the "Golden Star") founded two thousand years before

Christ. Here Ormuzd, the god of light and goodness, stands everywhere in

conflict with Ahriman, the god of darkness and evil. The continual

conflict between a good and an evil principle was personified in a

similar manner in the mythology of many other amphitheistic religions: in

the old Egyptian, the good Osiris was at war with the evil Typhon; in the

old Indian, Vishnu the sustainer with Siva the destroyer, and so forth.

If we really must retain the conception of a personal God as the key to

our view of the universe, then this amphitheism can explain the sorrows

and defects of this world very simply, as being the work of the evil

principle or devil. Pure monotheism, on the contrary, as represented in

the religions of Moses and Mohammed in their original form, has no

rational explanation of these to offer. If their "one God" is really the

absolutely good, perfect being they proclaim, then the world which he has

created must also be perfect. An organic world so imperfect and full of

sorrows as exists on this earth he could not possibly have contrived.

These considerations gain in force when we advance to the deeper

knowledge of nature acquired by modern biology; here it was Darwin,

especially, who thirty-three years ago opened our eyes by his doctrine of

the struggle for existence, and his theory of selection founded upon it.

We now know that the whole of organic nature on our planet exists only by

a relentless war of all against all. Thousands of animals and plants must

daily perish in every part of the earth, in order that a few chosen

individuals may continue to subsist and to enjoy life. But even the

existence of these favoured few is a continual conflict with threatening

dangers of every kind. Thousands of hopeful germs perish uselessly every

minute. The raging war of interests in human society is only a feeble

picture of the unceasing and terrible war of existence which reigns

throughout the whole of the living world. The beautiful dream of God's

goodness and wisdom in nature, to which as children we listened so

devoutly fifty years ago, no longer finds credit now--at least among

educated people who think. It has disappeared before our deeper

acquaintance with the mutual relations of organisms, the advancement of

oecology and sociology, and our knowledge of parasite life and pathology.

All these sad but insuperable facts--truly the dark side of nature--are

made intelligible to religious faith by amphitheism; they are the "works

of the devil," who opposes and disturbs the perfect moral order in the

world of the "good God." For pure monotheism which knows only one God,

one perfect highest being, they remain unintelligible. If, with a

monotheistic creed, any one still continues to talk of the moral order of

the world, he in so doing shuts his eyes to the undeniable facts of

history, both natural and civil.

In view of these considerations, it is hard to understand how the large

majority of the so-called educated classes can persevere, on the one

hand, in declaring belief in a personal God to be an indispensable

principle of religion, and, on the other hand, in at the same time

rejecting the belief in a personal devil as an exploded superstition of

the Middle Ages. This inconsistency on the part of educated Christians is

all the more incomprehensible and censurable, inasmuch as both dogmas in

equal degree form an integral part of the Christian creed. The personal

devil, as "Satan," "the Tempter," "the Destroyer," and so forth,

undeniably plays a most important part in the New Testament, though not

met with in the earlier portions of the Old. Our great reformer, Martin

Luther himself, who "sent to the devil" so many antiquated dogmas, was

unable to rid himself of the conviction of the real existence and

personal enmity of Beelzebub; we have only to think of the historical

ink-spot at Wartburg! Moreover, our Christian art, in many thousands of

paintings and other representations, has exhibited Satan in corporeal

form just as realistically as it has the three "Divine Persons," about

whose "hypostatical union" human reason has for eighteen hundred years

been tormenting itself in vain. The deep impression made by such concrete

representations, a million times repeated, especially on childish

understandings, is usually under-estimated as to its tremendous

influence; to it certainly is in large measure to be attributed the fact

that irrational myths of such a kind, under the mask of "doctrines of

faith," continue to hold their ground in spite of all protests of reason.

Liberal-minded Christian theologians have, it is true, often sought to

eliminate the personal devil from Christian teaching, representing him as

merely the personification of falsehood, the spirit of evil. But with

equal right we must in that case substitute for a personal God the

personified idea of truth, the Spirit of Goodness. To such a

representation no objection can be made; rather do we recognise in it a

bridge connecting the dim wonderland of religious poesy with the luminous

realms of clear scientific knowledge.

The monistic idea of God, which alone is compatible with our present

knowledge of nature, recognises the divine spirit in all things. It can

never recognise in God a "personal being," or, in other words, an

individual of limited extension in space, or even of human form. God is

everywhere. As Giordano Bruno has it: "There is one spirit in all things,

and nobody is so small that it does not contain a part of the divine

substance whereby it is animated." Every atom is thus animated, and so is

the ether; we might, therefore, represent God as the infinite sum of all

natural forces, the sum of all atomic forces and all ether-vibrations. It

comes virtually to the same thing when (as was done here by a speaker on

a former occasion) God is defined as "the supreme law of the universe,"

and the latter is represented as the "working of universal space." In

this most important article of belief it matters not as to the name but

as to the unity of the underlying idea; the unity of God and the world;

of spirit and nature. On the other hand, "homotheism," the

anthropomorphic representation of God, degrades this loftiest cosmic idea

to that of a "gaseous vertebrate."[19]

Of the various systems of pantheism which for long have given expression

more or less clearly to the monistic conception of God, the most perfect

is certainly that of Spinoza. To this system, as is well known, Goethe

also paid the tribute of his highest admiration and approval. Of other,

eminent men who have given a similar pantheistic form to their natural

religion, we shall here mention only two of the greatest poets and

students of man, Shakespeare and Lessing; two of the greatest German

rulers, Frederick II. of Hohenstaufen and Frederick II. of Hohenzollern;

two of the greatest scientists, Laplace and Darwin. In adding our own

pantheistic confession to that of these great and untrammelled spirits,

let it only be noted further, that it has received an empirical

confirmation, never before imagined, through the wonderful advances of

natural knowledge within the last thirty years.

The charge of atheism which still continues to be levelled against our

pantheism, and against the monism which lies at its root, no longer finds

a response among the really educated classes of the present day. It is

true that not so very long ago the German Imperial Chancellor, in the

Prussian Chamber of Deputies, found it in him to put forward such an

alternative as this: "Either the Christian or the atheistic view of the

world"; this in the defence of a most objectionable law, designed to hand

over our school training, tied hand and foot, to the papal hierarchy. The

vast distance which separates the last-named degenerate outgrowth of the

Christian religion from pure primitive Christianity is not greater than

that which separates those mediaeval alternatives from the cultured

religious consciousness of the present day. To one who regards as true

exercises of Christian religion the adoration of old clothes and wax

dolls, or the thoughtless repetition of masses or rosaries, who believes

in wonder-working relics, and purchases pardon for his sins by means of

indulgence-money or Peter's pence, we willingly concede the claim to

possess the "only saving religion"; but with such fetish-worshippers we

will willingly submit to be ranked as "atheists."

In like case with the charge of atheism and irreligion are those so often

heard against monism, that it destroys the poetry of life and fails to

satisfy the spiritual wants of human nature; we are told, in particular,

that aesthetics--certainly a most important department both in

theoretical philosophy and in practical life--is prejudiced by a monistic

philosophy. But David Friedrich Strauss, one of our subtlest exponents of

aesthetics and also one of our noblest writers, has already refuted such

a charge; and shown how, on the contrary, the care for poetry and the

cultivation of the beautiful are in the "new faith" called upon to play a

still greater part than ever. My present hearers, at once investigators

and lovers of nature, do not need to be told that every new insight which

we obtain into the secrets of nature at the same time also kindles our

souls, affords new material for imagination to work on, and enlarges our

perception of the beautiful. To convince ourselves how closely all these

noblest spiritual activities of man hang together, how intimately the

knowledge of truth is bound up with the love of goodness and veneration

of the beautiful, it will be enough to mention a single name, Germany's

greatest genius--Wolfgang Goethe.

If the perception of the aesthetic significance of our monistic

nature-religion, as well as of its ethical value, has hitherto so little

pervaded the educated classes, this is due chiefly to the defects of our

school training. It is true that in the course of the last few decades an

infinite deal has been spoken and written about school reform and the

principles of education; but of any real progress there is as yet but

little trace. Here also reigns the physical law of inertia; here

also--and more especially in German schools--the scholasticism of the

Middle Ages exhibits a power of inertia, against which any rational

reform of education must laboriously contest every inch of ground. In

this important department also, a department on which hangs the weal or

woe of future generations, matters will not improve till the monistic

doctrine of nature is accepted as the essential and sure foundation.

The school of the twentieth century, flourishing anew on this firm

ground, shall have to unfold to the rising youth not only the wonderful

truths of the evolution of the cosmos, but also the inexhaustible

treasures of beauty lying everywhere hidden therein. Whether we marvel at

the majesty of the lofty mountains or the magic world of the sea, whether

with the telescope we explore the infinitely great wonders of the starry

heaven, or with the microscope the yet more surprising wonders of a life

infinitely small, everywhere does Divine Nature open up to us an

inexhaustible fountain of aesthetic enjoyment. Blind and insensible have

the great majority of mankind hitherto wandered through this glorious

wonderland of a world; a sickly and unnatural theology has made it

repulsive as a "vale of tears." But now, at last, it is given to the

mightily advancing human mind to have its eyes opened; it is given to it

to show that a true knowledge of nature affords full satisfaction and

inexhaustible nourishment not only for its searching understanding, but

also for its yearning spirit.

Monistic investigation of nature as knowledge of the true, monistic ethic

as training for the good, monistic aesthetic as pursuit of the

beautiful--these are the three great departments of our monism: by the

harmonious and consistent cultivation of these we effect at last the

truly beatific union of religion and science, so painfully longed after

by so many to-day. The True, the Beautiful, and the Good, these are the

three august Divine Ones before which we bow the knee in adoration; in

the unforced combination and mutual supplementing of these we gain the

pure idea of God.[20] To this "triune" Divine Ideal shall the coming

twentieth century build its altars.

Ten years ago I was present at the celebration of the third centenary of

the university of Würzburg, which forty years ago I had entered as a

medical student. The festal address on that occasion was delivered in the

university church by the then rector, the distinguished chemist, Johannes

Wislicenus. His concluding words were: "God, the Spirit of Goodness and

of Truth, grant it." I now add, "and the Spirit of Beauty." It is in this

sense that I also, on this commemorative occasion, dedicate to you my

best wishes. May the investigation of nature's secrets flourish and

prosper in this corner of our Thüringian land also, and may the fruits of

knowledge, ripening here in Altenburg, contribute no less to the culture

of the spirit and to the advancement of true religion, than those which

three hundred and seventy years ago the great reformer, Martin Luther,

brought to the light of day in another corner of Thüringen, on the

Wartburg at Eisenach.

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