If theologians are henceforward prepared to recognise the authority of

secular science in the manner and to the extent indicated in the Manchester

trilogy; if the distinguished prelates who offer these terms are really

plenipotentiaries, then, so far as I may presume to speak on such a matter,

there will be no difficulty about concluding a perpetual treaty of peace,

and indeed of alliance, between the high contracting powers, whose history

has hitherto been little more than a record of continual warfare. But if

the great Chancellor's maxim, "Do ut des," is to form the basis of

negotiation, I am afraid that secular science will be ruined; for it seems

to me that theology, under the generous impulse of a sudden conversion, has

given all that she hath; and indeed, on one point, has surrendered more

than can reasonably be asked.

I suppose I must be prepared to face the reproach which attaches to those

who criticise a gift, if I venture to observe that I do not think that the

Bishop of Manchester need have been so much alarmed, as he evidently has

been, by the objections which have often been raised to prayer, on the

ground that a belief in the efficacy of prayer is inconsistent with a

belief in the constancy of the order of nature.

The Bishop appears to admit that there is an antagonism between the

"regular economy of nature" and the "regular economy of prayer" (p. 39),

and that "prayers for the interruption of God's natural order" are of

"doubtful validity" (p. 42). It appears to me that the Bishop's difficulty

simply adds another example to those which I have several times insisted

{304} upon in the pages of this Review and elsewhere, of the mischief which

has been done, and is being done, by a mistaken apprehension of the real

meaning of "natural order" and "law of nature."

May I, therefore, be permitted to repeat, once more, that the statements

denoted by these terms have no greater value or cogency than such as may

attach to generalisations from experience of the past, and to expectations

for the future based upon that experience? Nobody can presume to say what

the order of nature must be; all that the widest experience (even if it

extended over all past time and through all space) that events had happened

in a certain way could justify, would be a proportionally strong

expectation that events will go on so happening, and the demand for a

proportional strength of evidence in favour of any assertion that they had

happened otherwise.

It is this weighty consideration, the truth of which every one who is

capable of logical thought must surely admit, which knocks the bottom out

of all _a priori_ objections either to ordinary "miracles" or to the

efficacy of prayer, in so far as the latter implies the miraculous

intervention of a higher power. No one is entitled to say _a priori_ that

any given so-called miraculous event is impossible; and no one is entitled

to say _a priori_ that prayer for some change in the ordinary course of

nature cannot possibly avail.

The supposition that there is any inconsistency between the acceptance of

the constancy of natural {305} order and a belief in the efficacy of

prayer, is the more unaccountable as it is obviously contradicted by

analogies furnished by everyday experience. The belief in the efficacy of

prayer depends upon the assumption that there is somebody, somewhere, who

is strong enough to deal with the earth and its contents as men deal with

the things and events which they are strong enough to modify or control;

and who is capable of being moved by appeals such as men make to one

another. This belief does not even involve theism; for our earth is an

insignificant particle of the solar system, while the solar system is

hardly worth speaking of in relation to the All; and, for anything that can

be proved to the contrary, there may be beings endowed with full powers

over our system, yet, practically, as insignificant as ourselves in

relation to the universe. If any one pleases, therefore, to give

unrestrained liberty to his fancy, he may plead analogy in favour of the

dream that there may be, somewhere, a finite being, or beings, who can play

with the solar system as a child plays with a toy; and that such being may

be willing to do anything which he is properly supplicated to do. For we

are not justified in saying that it is impossible for beings having the

nature of men, only vastly more powerful, to exist; and if they do exist,

they may act as and when we ask them to do so, just as our brother men act.

As a matter of fact, the great mass of the human race has believed, and

still believes, in such beings, under the various names of fairies, gnomes,

angels, and demons. Certainly I do {306} not lack faith in the constancy of

natural order. But I am not less convinced that if I were to ask the Bishop

of Manchester to do me a kindness which lay within his power, he would do

it. And I am unable to see that his action on my request involves any

violation of the order of nature. On the contrary, as I have not the honour

to know the Bishop personally, my action would be based upon my faith in

that "law of nature," or generalisation from experience, which tells me

that, as a rule, men who occupy the Bishop's position are kindly and

courteous. How is the case altered if my request is preferred to some

imaginary superior being, or to the Most High Being, who, by the

supposition, is able to arrest disease, or make the sun stand still in the

heavens, just as easily as I can stop my watch, or make it indicate any

hour that pleases me?

I repeat that it is not upon any _a priori_ considerations that objections,

either to the supposed efficacy of prayer in modifying the course of

events, or to the supposed occurrence of miracles, can be scientifically

based. The real objection, and, to my mind, the fatal objection, to both

these suppositions, is the inadequacy of the evidence to prove any given

case of such occurrences which has been adduced. It is a canon of common

sense, to say nothing of science, that the more improbable a supposed

occurrence, the more cogent ought to be the evidence in its favour. I have

looked somewhat carefully into the subject, and I am unable to find in the

records of any miraculous event evidence {307} which even approximates to

the fulfilment of this requirement.

But, in the case of prayer, the Bishop points out a most just and necessary

distinction between its effect on the course of nature, outside ourselves,

and its effect within the region of the supplicator's mind.

It is a "law of nature," verifiable by everyday experience, that our

already formed convictions, our strong desires, our intent occupation with

particular ideas, modify our mental operations to a most marvellous extent,

and produce enduring changes in the direction and in the intensity of our

intellectual and moral activities. Men can intoxicate themselves with ideas

as effectually as with alcohol or with bang, and produce, by dint of

intense thinking, mental conditions hardly distinguishable from monomania.

Demoniac possession is mythical; but the faculty of being possessed, more

or less completely, by an idea is probably the fundamental condition of

what is called genius, whether it show itself in the saint, the artist, or

the man of science. One calls it faith, another calls it inspiration, a

third calls it insight; but the "intending of the mind," to borrow Newton's

well-known phrase, the concentration of all the rays of intellectual energy

on some one point, until it glows and colours the whole cast of thought

with its peculiar light, is common to all.

I take it that the Bishop of Manchester has psychological science with him

when he insists upon the subjective efficacy of prayer in faith, and on the

{308} seemingly miraculous effects which such "intending of the mind" upon

religious and moral ideals may have upon character and happiness.

Scientific faith, at present, takes it no further than the prayer which

Ajax offered; but that petition is continually granted.

Whatever points of detail may yet remain open for discussion, however, I

repeat the opinion I have already expressed, that the Manchester sermons

concede all that science has an indisputable right, or any pressing need,

to ask, and that not grudgingly but generously; and, if the three bishops

of 1887 carry the Church with them, I think they will have as good title to

the permanent gratitude of posterity as the famous seven who went to the

Tower in defence of the Church two hundred years ago.

Will their brethren follow their just and prudent guidance? I have no such

acquaintance with the currents of ecclesiastical opinion as would justify

me in even hazarding a guess on such a difficult topic. But some recent

omens are hardly favourable. There seems to be an impression abroad--I do

not desire to give any countenance to it--that I am fond of reading

sermons. From time to time, unknown correspondents--some apparently

animated by the charitable desire to promote my conversion, and others

unmistakably anxious to spur me to the expression of wrathful

antagonism--favour me with reports or copies of such productions.

I found one of the latter category among the accumulated arrears to which I

have already referred.

It is a full, and apparently accurate, report of a {309} discourse by a

person of no less ecclesiastical rank than the three authors of the sermons

I have hitherto been considering; but who he is, and where or when the

sermon was preached, are secrets which wild horses shall not tear from me,

lest I fall again under high censure for attacking a clergyman. Only if the

editor of this Review thinks it his duty to have independent evidence that

the sermon has a real existence, will I, in the strictest confidence,

communicate it to him.

The preacher, in this case, is of a very different mind from the three

bishops--and this mind is different in quality, different in spirit, and

different in contents. He discourses on the _a priori_ objections to

miracles, apparently without being aware, in spite of all the discussions

of the last seven or eight years, that he is doing battle with a shadow.

I trust I do not misrepresent the Bishop of Manchester in saying that the

essence of his remarkable discourse is the insistence upon the "supreme

importance of the purely spiritual in our faith," and of the relative, if

not absolute, insignificance of aught else. He obviously perceives the

bearing of his arguments against the alterability of the course of outward

nature by prayer, on the question of miracles in general; for he is careful

to say that "the possibility of miracles, of a rare and unusual

transcendence of the world order is not here in question" (p. 38). It may

be permitted me to suppose, however, that, if miracles were in question,

the speaker who warns us "that we must look for the heart of the absolute

{310} religion in that part of it which prescribes our moral and religious

relations" (p. 46) would not be disposed to advise those who had found the

heart of Christianity to take much thought about its miraculous integument.

My anonymous sermon will have nothing to do with such notions as these, and

its preacher is not too polite, to say nothing of charitable, towards those

who entertain them.

Scientific men, therefore, are perfectly right in asserting that

Christianity rests on miracles. If miracles never happened,

Christianity, in any sense which is not a mockery, which does not make

the term of none effect, has no reality. I dwell on this because there

is now an effort making to get up a non-miraculous, invertebrate

Christianity, which may escape the ban of science. And I would warn you

very distinctly against this new contrivance. Christianity is

essentially miraculous, and falls to the ground if miracles be

impossible.

Well, warning for warning. I venture to warn this preacher and those who,

with him, persist in identifying Christianity with the miraculous, that

such forms of Christianity are not only doomed to fall to the ground; but

that, within the last half century, they have been driving that way with

continually accelerated velocity.

The so-called religious world is given to a strange delusion. It fondly

imagines that it possesses the monopoly of serious and constant reflection

upon the terrible problems of existence; and that those who cannot accept

its shibboleths are either mere Gallios, caring for none of these things,

or libertines desiring to escape from the restraints of morality. It does

not {311} appear to have entered the imaginations of these people that,

outside their pale and firmly resolved never to enter it, there are

thousands of men, certainly not their inferiors in character, capacity, or

knowledge of the questions at issue, who estimate those purely spiritual

elements of the Christian faith of which the Bishop of Manchester speaks as

highly as the Bishop does; but who will have nothing to do with the

Christian Churches, because in their apprehension and for them, the

profession of belief in the miraculous, on the evidence offered, would be

simply immoral.

So far as my experience goes, men of science are neither better nor worse

than the rest of the world. Occupation with the endlessly great parts of

the universe does not necessarily involve greatness of character, nor does

microscopic study of the infinitely little always produce humility. We have

our full share of original sin; need, greed, and vainglory beset us as they

do other mortals; and our progress is, for the most part, like that of a

tacking ship, the resultant of opposite divergencies from the straight

path. But, for all that, there is one moral benefit which the pursuit of

science unquestionably bestows. It keeps the estimate of the value of

evidence up to the proper mark; and we are constantly receiving lessons,

and sometimes very sharp ones, on the nature of proof. Men of science will

always act up to their standard of veracity, when mankind in general leave

off sinning; but that standard appears to me to be higher among them than

in any other class of the community. {312}

I do not know any body of scientific men who could be got to listen without

the strongest expressions of disgusted repudiation to the exposition of a

pretended scientific discovery, which had no better evidence to show for

itself than the story of the devils entering a herd of swine, or of the

fig-tree that was blasted for bearing no figs when "it was not the season

of figs." Whether such events are possible or impossible, no man can say;

but scientific ethics can and does declare that the profession of belief in

them, on the evidence of documents of unknown date and of unknown

authorship, is immoral. Theological apologists who insist that morality

will vanish if their dogmas are exploded, would do well to consider the

fact that, in the matter of intellectual veracity, science is already a

long way ahead of the Churches; and that, in this particular, it is

exerting an educational influence on mankind of which the Churches have

shown themselves utterly incapable.

Undoubtedly that varying compound of some of the best and some of the worst

elements of Paganism and Judaism, moulded in practice by the innate

character of certain people of the Western world, which, since the second

century, has assumed to itself the title of orthodox Christianity, "rests

on miracles" and falls to the ground, not "if miracles be impossible," but

if those to whom it is committed prove themselves unable to fulfil the

conditions of honest belief. That this Christianity is doomed to fall is,

to my mind, beyond a doubt; but its fall will be neither sudden nor speedy.

The Church, with all the aid {313} lent it by the secular arm, took many

centuries to extirpate the open practice of pagan idolatry within its own

fold; and those who have travelled in southern Europe will be aware that it

has not extirpated the essence of such idolatry even yet. _Mutato nomine_,

it is probable that there is as much sheer fetichism among the Roman

populace now as there was eighteen hundred years ago; and if Marcus

Antoninus could descend from his horse and ascend the steps of the Ara

Coeli church about Twelfth Day, the only thing that need strike him would

be the extremely contemptible character of the modern idols as works of

art.

Science will certainly neither ask for, nor receive, the aid of the secular

arm. It will trust to the much better and more powerful help of that

education in scientific truth and in the morals of assent, which is

rendered as indispensable, as it is inevitable, by the permeation of

practical life with the products and ideas of science. But no one who

considers the present state of even the most developed countries can doubt

that the scientific light that has come into the world will, for a long

time, have to shine in the midst of darkness. The urban populations, driven

into contact with science by trade and manufacture, will more and more

receive it, while the _pagani_ will lag behind. Let us hope that no Julian

may arise among them to head a forlorn hope against the inevitable.

Whatever happens, science may bide her time in patience and in confidence.

But to return to my "Anonymous." I am afraid {314} that if he represents

any great party in the Church, the spirit of justice and reasonableness

which animates the three bishops has as slender a chance of being imitated,

on a large scale, as their common sense and their courtesy. For, not

contented with misrepresenting science on its speculative side, "Anonymous"

attacks its morality.

For two whole years, investigations and conclusions which would upset

the theories of Darwin on the formation of coral islands were actually

suppressed, and that by the advice even of those who accepted them,

_for fear of upsetting the faith and disturbing the judgment formed by

the multitude on the scientific character--the infallibility--of the

great master!_

So far as I know anything about the matters which are here referred to, the

part of this passage which I have italicised is absolutely untrue. I

believe that I am intimately acquainted with all Mr. Darwin's immediate

scientific friends; and I say that no one of them, nor any other man of

science known to me, ever could, or would, have given such advice to any

one--if for no other reason than that, with the example of the most candid

and patient listener to objections that ever lived fresh in their memories,

they could not so grossly have at once violated their highest duty and

dishonoured their friend.

The charge thus brought by "Anonymous" affects the honour and the probity

of men of science; if it is true, we have forfeited all claim to the

confidence of the general public. In my belief it is utterly false, and its

real effect will be to discredit those who are responsible for it. As is

the way with slanders, it {315} has grown by repetition. "Anonymous" is

responsible for the peculiarly offensive form which it has taken in his

hands; but he is not responsible for originating it. He has evidently been

inspired by an article entitled "A Great Lesson," published in the

September number of this Review. Truly it is "a great lesson," but not

quite in the sense intended by the giver thereof.

In the course of his doubtless well-meant admonitions, the Duke of Argyll

commits himself to a greater number of statements which are demonstrably

incorrect, and which any one who ventured to write upon the subject ought

to have known to be incorrect, than I have ever seen gathered together in

so small a space.

I submit a gathering from the rich store for the appreciation of the

public.

First:--

Mr. Murray's new explanation of the structure of coral-reefs and

islands was communicated to the Royal Society of Edinburgh in 1880, and

supported with such a weight of facts and such a close texture of

reasoning, that no serious reply has ever been attempted (p. 305).

"No serious reply has ever been attempted"! I suppose that the Duke of

Argyll may have heard of Professor Dana, whose years of labour devoted to

corals and coral-reefs when he was naturalist of the American expedition

under Commodore Wilkes, more than forty years ago, have ever since caused

him to be recognised as an authority of the first rank on such subjects.

Now does his Grace know, or does he not {316} know, that, in the year 1885,

Professor Dana published an elaborate paper "On the Origin of Coral-Reefs

and Islands," in which, after referring to a presidential address by the

Director of the Geological Survey of Great Britain and Ireland delivered in

1883, in which special attention is directed to Mr. Murray's views,

Professor Dana says:--

The existing state of doubt on the question has led the writer to

reconsider the earlier and later facts, and in the following pages he

gives his results.

Professor Dana then devotes many pages of his very "serious reply" to a

most admirable and weighty criticism of the objections which have at

various times been raised to Mr. Darwin's doctrine, by Professor Semper, by

Dr. Rein, and finally by Mr. Murray, and he states his final judgment as

follows:--

With the theory of abrasion and solution incompetent, all the

hypotheses of objectors to Darwin's theory are alike weak; for all have

made these processes their chief reliance, whether appealing to a

calcareous, or a volcanic, or a mountain-peak basement for the

structure. The subsidence which the Darwinian theory requires has not

been opposed by the mention of any fact at variance with it, nor by

setting aside Darwin's arguments in its favour; and it has found new

support in the facts from the _Challenger's_ soundings off Tahiti, that

had been put in array against it, and strong corroboration in the facts

from the West Indies.

Darwin's theory, therefore, remains as the theory that accounts for the

origin of reefs and islands.[77]

Be it understood that I express no opinion on the controverted points. I

doubt if there are ten living men who, having a practical knowledge of what

a {317} coral-reef is, have endeavoured to master the very difficult

biological and geological problems involved in their study. I happen to

have spent the best part of three years among coral-reefs and to have made

that attempt; and, when Mr. Murray's work appeared, I said to myself that

until I had two or three months to give to the renewed study of the subject

in all its bearings, I must be content to remain in a condition of

suspended judgment. In the meanwhile, the man who would be voted by common

acclamation as the most competent person now living to act as umpire, has

delivered the verdict I have quoted; and, to go no further, has fully

justified the hesitation I and others may have felt about expressing an

opinion. Under these circumstances, it seems to me to require a good deal

of courage to say "no serious reply has ever been attempted"; and to chide

the men of science, in lofty tones, for their "reluctance to admit an

error" which is not admitted; and for their "slow and sulky acquiescence"

in a conclusion which they have the gravest warranty for suspecting!

Second:--

Darwin himself had lived to hear of the new solution, and, with that

splendid candour which was eminent in him, his mind, though now grown

old in his own early convictions, was at least ready to entertain it,

and to confess that serious doubts had been awakened as to the truth of

his famous theory (p. 305).

I wish that Darwin's splendid candour could be conveyed by some description

of spiritual "microbe" to those who write about him. I am not aware that

Mr. Darwin ever entertained "serious doubts as to {318} the truth of his

famous theory"; and there is tolerably good evidence to the contrary. The

second edition of his work, published in 1876, proves that he entertained

no such doubts then; a letter to Professor Semper, whose objections, in

some respects, forestalled those of Mr. Murray, dated October 2, 1879,

expresses his continued adherence to the opinion "that the atolls and

barrier reefs in the middle of the Pacific and Indian Oceans indicate

subsidence"; and the letter of my friend Professor Judd, printed at the end

of this article (which I had perhaps better say Professor Judd had not

seen) will prove that this opinion remained unaltered to the end of his

life.

Third:--

... Darwin's theory is a dream. It is not only unsound, but it is in

many respects the reverse of truth. With all his conscientiousness,

with all his caution, with all his powers of observation, Darwin in

this matter fell into errors as profound as the abysses of the Pacific

(p. 301).

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