The Freedom of Science

One of them contains the following confession of faith: “I am a Christian, that is, I believe in the divinity of Jesus Christ, with Tycho Brahe, Copernicus, Descartes, Newton, Fermat, Leibnitz, Pascal, Grimaldi, Euler, Guldin, Boscovich, Gerdil; with all great astronomers, all great physicists, all great mathematicians of past centuries. I am also a Catholic, with the majority of them, and if asked for my reasons, I would enumerate them readily. By them it would be made clear that my conviction is not the result of inherited prejudices, but of profound inquiry. I am a sincere Catholic, as Corneille, Racine, La Bruyère, Bossuet, Bourdaloue, Fénelon were, and such as were and still are a large portion of the most eminent men of our times, among them those who have achieved most in the exact sciences, in philosophy and literature, and who have most prominently adorned our Academy”(Valson, Vie de Cauchy, I, 173). When near death, and told that the priest would bring the Holy Sacrament, he ordered the finest flowers of his garden used in the reception of the Lord.

We now come to the physicists. To begin with the most prominent representatives of the science of optics, which was developed especially during the first half of the century, there are to be named chiefly Fresnel, Frauenhofer, Fizeau, Foucault. A. Fresnel (died 1827), the originator of the modern theory of light, clung to his conviction of the spirituality and immortality of the soul. Frauenhofer (died 1826) showed himself to be a man of refinement and of kindness, which only occasionally was disturbed by natural irritability: he was much devoted to his religion, so that even his guests while at his house had to observe the abstinence prescribed by the Church; this was quite significant, considering the indifference of his times in this respect. Fizeau (died 1896), too, was a staunch Catholic, who fearlessly testified to his belief, even before the Paris Academy. Though his work was of the first rank, France's chief marks of honour passed him by, and little notice was even given to his death. A significant fact. “These circumstances,” so writes Kneller, “induced us to inquire for particulars; and through the services of friends we obtained information in Paris from most reliable source that Fizeau was a faithful Christian, who fulfilled his religious duties. For this very reason his name had been stricken, at the Centenary of the Academy, from the list of candidates for the cross of the legion of honor, notwithstanding the fact that, on the strength of his scientific achievement, he should long have been Commander and even Grand Officer of this order.” Cornu was the only one to protest against this slight. Foucault (died 1868) had, in the time of his restless scientific work, taken an unsympathetic attitude towards the Catholic religion. In his last illness he returned, step by step, to his Creator and Redeemer, in whom he found his comfort, and he breathed his last in peace with God and the Church.

Foucault's great countryman, Ampère (died 1836), the celebrated investigator in the fields of electricity, was also estranged from the Christian religion, but, after passing through torturing doubts, he regained undisturbed possession of his Catholic faith, and was a pious Christian at the time of his brilliant discoveries. He had frequent intercourse with A. F. Ozanam, and the discussion almost without exception turned to God. Then Ampère would cover his forehead with his hands, exclaiming: “How great God is! Ozanam! how great God is, and our knowledge is as nothing.” “This venerable head,” Ozanam relates of his friend, “covered with honours and full of knowledge, bowed down before the mysteries of the faith; he knelt at the same altars where before him Descartes and Pascal worshipped humbly, beside the poor widow and the small child, who perhaps were less humble than he” (A. F. Ozanam, Oeuvres Complètes, X, 37, and VIII, 89). As he was dying, and M. Deschamps, director of the college of Marseille, began to read aloud some passages from the “Imitation of Christ,” the dying man remarked that he knew the book by heart.

Another great discoverer in the domain of electricity, who had preceded Ampère, was Volta (died 1827). Like his great fellow countryman, Galvani (died 1798), who did not disdain to be a member of the third order of St. Francis, Volta was a staunch Catholic; every day he recited the rosary.

At Como, his home, he was daily seen to go to holy Mass and, on holidays, to the Sacraments. Those who passed his house on Saturdays saw a small lamp burning before the picture of the Blessed Virgin Mary over his door. If the servant forgot to light the lamp, Volta did it himself. On Feast days, when visiting the parish church, the great electrician could be seen among the children, explaining the catechism to them.

A friend of Volta, the Canon Giacomo Ciceri, once was endeavoring to convert a dying man, who, however, refused to hear him, on the ground that whereas religion might be good for the common people, scientists did not need it, and he reckoned himself among them. Cicerithereupon reminded him of Volta. This made an impression upon the dying man, who declared that if Volta be seriously religious, and not only as a matter of convention, he would consent to receive the Sacraments. The Canon then requested Volta to write a few lines. Volta replied as follows: “I do not understand how anybody can doubt my sincerity and constancy in the religion which I profess, and which is that of Catholic, Apostolic, Roman Church, wherein I was born and raised, and which I have professed all my life, inwardly and outwardly… Should any misdemeanor on my part have prompted any one to suspect me of unbelief, then I will declare, for the purpose of making reparation … that I always have believed this Holy Catholic religion to be the only true and infallible one, and that I still think so, and I thank our dear Lord incessantly for having given me this belief, in which to live and to die is my resolution, in the firm hope of gaining the eternal life. It is true, I acknowledge this belief to be a gift of God, a supernatural belief; yet, I have not neglected human means to fortify myself in this belief, and to drive away all doubts that may arise to tempt me. For this reason, I have studied the faith diligently in its foundations, by reading apologetic and controversial writings, weighing the reasons for and against; a way, which supplies the strongest proof, and makes it most credible for the human reason to such a degree, that any noble mind, not perverted by sins and passions, cannot help embracing and loving it. I wish this profession, for which I was asked and which I willingly make, written and signed by my own hand, to be shown at will to any one, because I am not ashamed of the Gospel. May my writing bear good fruit.

Alexander Volta.

Milan, January 6th, 1815.

(C. Grandi, Alessandro Volta, 1899, 575.)”

He who, for the first time, is made aware of the religious confession of the greatest natural scientists may perhaps be astonished. Hitherto, he had heard little of the Christian mind of these men, but a great deal about their alleged indifference for religion, and about their materialism and atheism. Now, suddenly, he sees a large number of them to be the enemies of atheism, many, indeed, to be zealous Christians.

This is due to the biographers: they dwell largely on the scientific achievement of a man, likewise on his human qualities, but his religion is often not mentioned at all. When, in 1888, a monument was erected to Ampère in his native city, Lyons, not a word in the speeches referred to the fact that he was a faithful Catholic. Nay, more; on one of the books seen on his monument is chiselled in bold letters the word “Encyclopédie.” Those unaware of the facts would infer that Ampère had been one of the Encyclopædists. His actual relation to this infamous work was that he had read it in his youth, but abhorred it in his later age.

The English physicist, Faraday (died 1867), according to Tyndall and Du Bois-Reymond the greatest experimentist of all times, was, like Volta and Ampère, of religious mind.

In a letter to a lady he wrote: “I belong to a small and despised Christian sect, known by the name of Sandemanians. Our hope is based upon the belief which is in Christ.” In 1847, he concluded his lectures at the Royal Institution with the following words: “In teaching us those things, our science should prompt us to think of Him whose works they are.” At a later lecture, he declared: “I have never encountered anything to cause a contradiction between things within the scope of man, and the higher things, relating to his future and unconceivable to (unaided) human mind” (Jones, The Life and Letters of Faraday).

Of the same bent of mind was Faraday's fellow countryman, Maxwell (died 1879), known to every one who has studied the development of the theories of electricity. This ingenious theoretician of electrics, professor of experimental physics at Cambridge, was deeply religious. Every evening he led in the family prayer; he regularly attended divine service, and partook of the monthly communion of his denomination. Those more intimately acquainted with Maxwell agree, that he was one of the worthiest men they ever met.

Nothing could better illustrate his religious sentiment than the splendid prayer found among his posthumous papers: “Almighty God, Thou who hast created man after Thy image and hast given him a living soul, that he should search Thee and rule over Thy creatures, teach us to study the works by Thy hands that we may subject the earth for our use, and strengthen our reason for Thy service, and let us receive Thy holy word thus, that we may believe in Him whom Thou hast sent us to give us the knowledge of salvation and the forgiving of our sins, all of which we pray for in the name of the same Jesus Christ, our Lord” (Campbell-Garnett, The Life of J. C. Maxwell).

Maxwell's devout mind is especially significant here, because, like Ampère and Volta, he occupied himself much with philosophical and theological questions. Every Sunday upon return from church he is said to have buried himself in his theological books.

Many others might be mentioned of English physicists of the past century, who combined religious belief with great knowledge. The peculiar trait of the English character to respect and preserve with piety the inherited institutions of the past, as against radicalism and the craze for innovation, manifests itself also in the absence of the immature and frivolous juggling with the great truths of the Christian past, not infrequently met with elsewhere. Let us mention but one more of England's great men who have died in recent years. In December, 1907, the papers reported the death of William Thomson, latterly better known as Lord Kelvin. He lived to the age of 83 years, up to his death incessantly busy with scientific work. As early as 1855, Helmholtz described him as “one of the foremost mathematical physicists of Europe.7” The Berlin Academy of Science expressed high praise and admiration in its address felicitating Thomson on his Golden Jubilee. Undoubtedly, he merited this admiration also by stoutly defending from the viewpoint of science the necessity of a Divine Creator.

“We do not know,” he wrote, “at what moment a creation of matter or of energy fixed a beginning beyond which no speculation based on mechanical laws is able to lead us. In exact mechanics, if we were ever inclined to forget this barrier, we necessarily would be reminded of it by the consideration that reasoning, resting exclusively upon the law of mechanics, points to a time when the earth must have been uninhabited, and it also teaches us that our own bodies, like those of all living plants and animals, and fossils, are organized forms of matter for which science can give no other explanation than the will of a Creator, a truth, in support of which geological history offers rich evidence” (On Mechanical Antecedent of Motion, Heat and Light, 1884). “The only contribution of dynamics to theoretical biology consists in the absolute negation of an automatic beginning and automatic continuance of life” (Addresses and Speeches).

On May 1, 1902, the Rev. Prof. G. Henslow, according to the London Times, spoke at University College, before a big audience with the President of the University as chairman, on the subject “The Rationalism of To-day, an Examination of Darwinism.” On conclusion of the speech the venerable octogenarian, Lord Kelvin, arose and proposed a resolution of thanks to the speaker. While fully subscribing to the fundamental ideas of Prof. Henslow's lecture, Lord Kelvin said, he could not assent to the proposition that natural science neither affirms nor denies the origin of life by a creative force. He stated that natural science does, positively, assert a creative force. Science forces every one to recognize a miracle within himself. That we are living, and moving, and existing, is not due to dead matter, but to a creating and directing force, and science forces us to accept this assumption as a tenet of faith. Lord Kelvin subsequently amplified these remarks in an article that appeared in the Nineteenth Century, of June, 1903. It concludes with the admonition, not to be afraid to think independently. “If you reason sharply, you will be forced by science to believe in God, who is the basis of all religion. You will find science to be, not an opponent of religion, but a support” (Times, May 8 and 15, 1903).

Such were the views of those to whom, in the first place, the establishment of natural science and its progress are due. It is not science and strong reasoning that lead away from God, but the lack of true science. Bacon said: Leviores gustus in philosophia movere fortasse animum ad atheismum, sed pleniores haustus ad Deum reducere. Another thing must be observed. Among those earnest men, earnest in the investigation of nature, and earnest in the consideration of questions of a supernatural life, there are many who made the religious question the subject of mature study, and who were well acquainted with the objections against religion and Christianity. But they cling to their religious persuasion only the more firmly. We may be reminded of men like Volta, Cauchy, Ampère, and Maxwell.

To speak of authorities, what comparison is there between these great scientists and discoverers, and those who are satisfied with the general assurance that “any one who has grasped the elements of natural sciences must become a monist,” and “that the supernatural exists only in the brain of the visionary and ignorant,” that, “in the same measure in which the victorious progress of modern knowledge of nature surpasses the scientific achievements of former centuries, the untenableness of all mystical views of life that tend to harness the reason in the yoke of so-called revelation has been made clear” (Haeckel), and who in such assurance find perfect intellectual gratification. They recall an incident at the Congress of English natural scientists, held at Belfast in 1874, when Tyndall delivered from the platform a materialistic lecture, and among the audience sat Maxwell, his superior in scientific research, who put down the lecture in doggerel rhyme, in a humorous vein, of course, but not without deserved sarcasm.

We proceed on our way, trying to make haste, and omitting many names that might be mentioned, limiting ourselves to the most prominent ones.

Among the chemists we name Lavoisier. A martyr to his science, he died under the guillotine of the Revolution in 1794; he had remained true to his Christian faith. The Swede, J. Berzelius (died 1848), openly professed his belief in God. Thénard (died 1859), the discoverer of boron, of a blue dye named after him, and of many other chemicals, was a staunch Catholic. The pastor of St. Sulpice could testify at his funeral as follows: “He attended church every Sunday, eyes and heart fixed on his prayer-book, and on solemn Feast days he received Holy Communion… With Baron Thénard one of the greatest benefactors of my poor people is gone” (Kneller).

Dumas (died 1884), who is esteemed by his pupil Pasteur as the peer of Lavoisier, was also a practical Catholic, as was his compatriot Chevreul (died 1889). This great man had the rare good fortune to be present at his own centenary in 1886. At this great celebration he received an address by the Berlin Academy, stating that his name had a prominent place on the list of the great scientists who had carried the scientific repute of France to all quarters of the globe. When, in view of the mundane character of the celebration, the liberal press endeavoured to rank him among the representatives of unbelieving science, and this question being discussed in public, Chevreul felt himself constrained to proclaim his religious persuasion openly in a letter to Count de Montravel, in which he said: “I am simply a scientist, but those who know me, know also that I was born a Catholic, that I lead a Catholic life, and that I want to die a Catholic” (Civilta Cattolica, 1891, 292).

Two Germans may conclude the list of chemists, Schoenbein (died 1868) and J. Liebig (died 1873).

In his diary, “Menschen und Dinge,” 1885 (page 29), Schoenbeinwrites: “There are still people who fancy in their limited mind that, the deeper the human intellect penetrates the secrets of nature, the more extensive its knowledge, the wider its conception of the exterior world, the more it must forget the cause of all things. Many have gone even so far as to assert that natural science must lead to the denial of God. This view is without all foundation. He, who contemplates with open eyes, daily and hourly, the doings and workings of nature, will not only believe, but will actually perceive, and be firmly convinced, that there is not the smallest place in space where the divine does not reveal itself in the most magnificent and admirable way.” And in a similar strain Liebig writes: “Indeed, the greatness and infinite wisdom of the Creator of the world can be realized only by him who endeavours to understand His ideas as laid down in that immense book, – nature, in comparison to which everything that men otherwise know and tell of Him, appears like empty talk” (Die Chemie in ihrer Anwendung).

Now let us turn to the geographers. We merely mention Ritter (died 1859), the man who raised geography to the dignity of a science; he was a faithful Protestant, while biassed against the Catholic Church. In spite of this, a Catholic historian, J. Janssen, has sketched his life, in which we read: “Firm in his belief in the living God, and in the Incarnate Son of God, His Redeemer, he furnishes a clear and convincing proof that this faith, far from being a contradiction to natural science … alone enables man to acquire an extensive and deep knowledge of nature.” We give only passing notice to the founder of scientific crystallography, R. Hauy (died 1822), who was a dutiful Catholic priest. The geologists now will get a hearing.

Among them we meet, in the first place, the noted geologist and zoölogist, Cuvier (died 1832), a faithful Protestant: also the foremost French geologist of his time, L. De Beaumont (died 1874), “a Christian in all things and a steadfast Christian … which he remained through his whole life;” so Dumas testifies of him in his obituary (Comptes Rendus, 1874). Then there is J. Barrande, the untiring explorer of the antediluvian strata of Bohemia. He came in 1830 to Bohemia with the banished royal family, as Chambord's teacher, and died 1883 at Frohsdorf near Vienna. He was a pious Catholic. The volumes of his works are nearly all dated on Catholic feasts. The recently deceased French geologist, A. De Lapparent, was a practical Catholic, and such were the two Belgian geologists, J. d'Omalius (died 1875), and A. Dumont (died 1857), to both of whom Belgium owes its geological exploration. The English geologists, Buckland (died 1856), Hitchcock(died 1864), and A. Sedgwick (died 1872), were ministers of the English Church. J. Dwight Dana (died 1895), the foremost geologist of North America, begins his celebrated text-book of geology with a homage to his Creator, and concludes it by paying tribute to Holy Writ. W. Dawson (died 1899) the worthy geological explorer of his native land, Canada, published several apologetic dissertations on the Bible and Nature. A kindred sentiment animated the German scientists, Bischof (died 1870), Quenstedt (died 1898), the geologist of Suabia Pfaff (died 1886), Schafhæutl (died 1890), and the equally pious as learned Swiss geologist O. Heer (died 1883). They all have much to say about the greatness of their Creator, but not a word of any insolvable contradictions between the Bible and geologic research.

As a last division of an imposing phalanx, there are now the biologists and physiologists. Modern biology, as the science of life, has in the eyes of many accomplished the bold deed of demonstrating the superfluity of a soul distinct from matter. Claim is made that it has sufficiently explained the sensitive and mental life by the sole agency of physical and chemical forces, and thus to have removed the boundary between live and dead matter. It is said, further, that biology in conjunction with zoölogy and botany has furnished proof that the wonderful organic forms of life may be explained by purely natural causes, without having to assume as an ultimate cause the act of a higher intelligence; that a never ceasing evolution is the sole ultimate cause, – creation is made superfluous by evolution. Biology is thus claimed to have refuted the old dualism of soul and matter, of world and God, and to have awarded the palm to monism.

Are the eminent representatives of this science really the materialists and monists they would have to be, if all this were true? The foremost physiologist of the nineteenth century was J. Müller (died 1858), buried in the Catholic cemetery at Berlin. He was a decided opponent of materialism; he not only contended for the existence of a spiritual soul, but also for an immaterial vital force in plants. Th. Schwann (died 1882) is the founder of the cellular theory. In the year 1839 he accepted a call to take the chair of anatomy at the Catholic University of Louvain. One of the most prominent physiologists of the nineteenth century was A. Volkmann (died 1877). He was a stout champion of the spirituality and immortality of the soul, of purposive cause in animated beings, and an opponent of Darwin's theory. G. J. Mendel (died 1884) became by his work on Experimenting with Hybrid Plants the pioneer of the modern theory of hereditary transmission, adopted by modern biology; and scientists like H. de Vries, Correns, Tschermak, and Bateson followed his lead. “His important laws of hereditary transmission are the best so far offered by the research in this field” (Muckermann, Grundriss der Biologie). He was a Catholic priest, and the abbot of the Augustinian Monastery at Old-Brünn. Karl von Vierordt (died 1884) is well known by his “Manual of Physiology,” still in demand as a reference book in the libraries of universities. In 1865 he delivered a speech at the Tübingen University on the unity of science, concluding with this appeal to the students: “Until your religious notions become clear by a mature insight, trust in the well-meant assurance that the belief in the divinity of the religion of Jesus has not been put falsely into your heart. True piety is equally remote from narrow pietism as from freethinking indifference; it leaves to reason its full rights, but it also assures to us the faculty to be aware, in joyful confidence in Almighty Providence, of an immaterial and for us eternal destiny.” Ch. Ehrenberg (died 1876) is the explorer of the world of little things: of infusoria and protozoa. He did not countenance Haeckel's materialism nor Darwin's denial of teleology: to him they were fantastic theories and romances. A friend of his, and of the same mind, was K. von Martius, who admired God's wisdom in the wonders of the world of vegetation. Long before his death he ordered his burial dress to be made of white cloth embroidered with a green cross, – “a cross because I am a Christian, and green in honour of botany.” Another renowned name may be mentioned, that of the Austrian anatomist J. Hyrtl (died 1894).