ANCIENT AND MODERN LEARNING.

THE British Association for the Advancement of Science has just concluded, it appears, its forty-eighth Congress; and we are naturally led to look back upon its achievements. Whether or not the annual gatherings of such a body have given additional stimulus to investigation and accelerated progress, there can be no doubt that during this period of about half a century the world of science, as regards many matters of profound interest, may challenge comparison with any preceding era. But whether a like advance has been sustained in the great principles which must be acknowledged to underlie all natural and practical science is a question on which there is considerable room for variety of opinion. At any rate, dark and dense mists of doubt seem yet to haunt the horizon of the nineteenth century.

From the time of Aristotle down to the present day the battle between science and religion has been more or less fiercely waged. The Grecian sages lived at a peculiar crisis of the world. The spiritual lore of the ancient churches had degenerated into fable and superstition. The penetration which (according to Swedenborg) had distinguished spiritually-minded men even in conceiving of natural truths had yielded to the allurements of imagination, and the course of rational induction was arrested. Knowledge of every kind had fallen into a second chaos when Socrates and his successors appeared on the stage. These men, receiving the best education of their day, gathered up the traditions of wisdom which had been cultivated by the Magi and Sophi, who traced their learning to the Golden Age, and may be regarded as their last faithful representatives. They were indeed mental giants, not to be drawn away from the strait paths of piety and duty, yet restless in the pursuit of truth. In genius they differed widely. Socrates was a profound moralist; Plato a sublime mystic; Aristotle a daring investigator. And they stood (so to speak) on the confine of a new departure, consummated by the bold intellect of Aristotle, hardly knowing whither they were leading. The greatest obstacle in their way was the hopeless declension of the human race. The world was hastening to its midnight. Few gave serious attention to the problems stirred by these great fathers; and subtle sensualists, like Democritus and Epicurus, preferred (like too many in our own age) the fascinations of doubt and jest to spiritual contemplation.

And what was the condition of other nations? There are not wanting those who profess to find—not some analogies merely butdirect authorities in ancient learning for the sublime truths subsequently taught by Christianity. The fact is, the analogies were mere

vestiges of a nobler age, whose teachings had lost all their force. Narrowed down to the simple truths which concern every man-God and the soul-how vague and obscure were the ideas which existed on these momentous subjects! But in Judæa there burst forth a new and marvellous light. Men professed indeed to believe that light was coming. They knew not whence; and their attitude on its advent was, as might be expected, one of bewilderment. But from that moment what a change has come over the world! It is thus Divine Providence initiates its priceless blessings. Truth was given anew from heaven, that is, spiritual truth; and by this means the mind was opened for the investigation of natural science. Had not the Christian Church so soon declined, no doubt the progress of scientific discovery would have been hastened. But the peculiar simplicity of the early Christians, together with the numerous heresies which sprang up, followed by the iron rule of the Papacy, fettered the advancement of knowledge, and threw the world back into darkness. Then came the Reformation to break the bondage, and the printing press gave courage to the martyrs of faith and science. Can we fail to see in all this, and in subsequent events both in the Church and in the world, the development at once of the highest and commonest blessings for the regeneration of society?

It is by no means surprising, however, if large numbers have mistaken, and continue to misunderstand, the grave questions at issue, shutting their eyes altogether to the spiritual side of the course of events, and falling into the notion-so alluring to the pride of the human understanding, and so easily imagined to be due to the dignity of science—that a purely independent course of study is the only certain road to all truth. The confusion which prevailed in the time of Aristotle is still visible in the world of literature; the two distinct lines of natural and revealed knowledge are confounded; and it is evident that some time must elapse before the great republic of letters becomes aware of the narrowness of its popular foundations. Yet we are now able to assert from no mean authority—that of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, and after half a century of learned toil-that natural discovery has reached a point where it stands baffled. All the resources of optics, chymistry, and physiology have been strained to the utmost; but the priestess of Isis remains dumb; the oracle can no longer respond. The outer coverings of life in plant and beast and man have been penetrated in the hope that there was to be no end to the research; yet, as regards the grand mystery of life, the erudite scientist knows a little more than the ploughboy-and that is all.

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The common error has been in supposing that the Great First Cause would ultimately be reached through the crucible and the microscope. Educated men, it seems, are quite as prone as the illiterate to fall into delusions; but the delusions of learning are the most stubborn. students of the nineteenth century look with contempt upon the witchcraft of the Middle Ages, while they are caught in the net of a more subtle mischief. Priding themselves on being emancipated from childish superstitions, they fall headlong into the web of sensual fascination; and the chief delusion of the present age seems to be— that it is a humiliation for the human understanding to be guided by a Divine Light!

Nevertheless, there are sounds in the air which seem to indicate a better mind. Leading scientists are becoming less positive; distinguished theologians more liberal. The famous Belfast address to the British Association some years ago by Professor Tyndall, which seemed to throw a prophetic mantle over the learned scepticism of Democritus, evoked a more serious attitude from many quarters; and a subsequent address by Sir Wm. Thompson, containing some romantic ideas about the origin of life on planets, spurred men of even opposite tastes to new thoughts. The bold champions of nature were evidently going too far; they were already out of their depth. The address this year by Dr. Allman significantly showed how fatal it is to be rash! And I question whether we shall again have our piety shocked by the bold enunciation of bald theories adverse to the spirit of religion. Good temper and strong judgment are essential to great teachers. And in the sermon preached by the Archbishop of York, whose eminence both in the religious and the literary world lends weight to his remarks, displayed in a marked degree a disposition to exalt truth above that "strife of tongues" in which it too often suffers. The tone of the discourse was at once liberal, apologetic, and outspoken. He congratulated his hearers on the striking fact that the Congress had been free from any of those collisions between scientists and theologians which appeared to him not only needless but deplorable. He enunciated the great principle that the two distinct lines for the acquisition of knowledge must ever remain separate; the object of science being more especially external and civil uses, that of religion internal and personal experience. He presented indeed, and wisely, the religious argument in a universal form, insisting on no narrow interpretation respecting "the faith of Christ;" but boldly assailing the pompous assumption that civilization was able to dispense with the aid of religion. "Religion" alone could "take charge of those individual interests which are apt to be overlooked in the

general march" of worldly life. "The yearning of the individual soul to get nearer to God found that satisfaction in religion which from science it could not enjoy." Who can really doubt this affirmation? It is not the purpose of the theologian to degrade science, but to exalt religion. It may be that this peculiar truth is making itself felt among our great thinkers. I believe those men recoil from the idea of a blank atheistic system; and that, as regards revelation, they must be classed among those who (for reasons not difficult to conceive), if they do not affirm, do not absolutely deny. This is a very different spirit from that shown by the sceptics either of the first age of Christianity or of the eighteenth century, and should be a reproof to those rabid divines who can never speak of science except with bated breath.

There is one feature of the Archbishop's discourse which is somewhat remarkable; it is the entire silence in it respecting the triumphs of science over theological prejudice in the past. From the institution of the printing press the thunders of cardinals and curates alike have been hurled against those great scientific truths which are the common glory of our day. Copernicus, Galileo, Lyell, amongst other eminent names, were bitterly denounced for teaching views said to be contrary to the Scriptures. Yet astronomy triumphed; geology must triumph. It is now seen that the Bible does not impugn scientific facts; it was "the wise men "who were at fault. Let us put together these two propositions that the Bible does not reveal science, and that science does not teach salvation. Surely men on both sides should be ashamed of the hard words they have used one against the other, and may well imitate the temper shown by the Prelate of York in his latest contribution to the cause of truth.

To the receivers of the doctrines of the New Church it is a grateful task to contemplate this great change in the literary world, and to point to the Writings of Swedenborg as the first clear exponents of this grand unity of faith and science. Our Author's works are a rare example of the spirit which should guide men in all their theosophic investigations. At a time when scepticism and indifference were fast overwhelming society we find Swedenborg engaged in framing a majestic system of truth, incorporating at once the wonders of the Divine works and the Divine Word. Furnished by genius and education with all the means for an unintermittent investigation of the arcana of existence, we find him unweariedly pursuing, from a high affirmative standpoint, every subject of human knowledge; first -like another but more favoured Newton-as a scientist; subsequently as a theologian; patiently inaugurating without display a

new era of literary thought and sublime faith. We cannot but admire the method and progress of his career and the vast scope of his Writings. These works present themselves in a striking chronological order by a natural growth of the mind, guided by a singular Providence. As the first blossoms of his manhood we have his purely scientific works; in maturer years we find a higher philosophy treading on the confines of a new kingdom; lastly, he takes up the pen of the theological expositor, blending his exegesis with a psychological experience both marvellous and unique.

Let us for a moment longer dwell upon these respective periods of his Writings. As regards some of his scientific views, it must be admitted that the world has not stood still; for no man is miraculously gifted with the knowledge of nature. Yet his scientific opinions will always stand pre-eminent in comparison with those of his own age. They bear the stamp of a rare penetration in handling all the discoveries of his day. But as regards the second and third periods of his works, the claim to an enduring dominion stands untarnished and untouched; they contain sentiments to which, it must be admitted, the world is yet slowly approaching. His authority as the teacher par eminence of a grand philosophico-theological system must undoubtedly rest upon the evidence of its truth: this is indeed the proper basis of all mental authority, and I am not aware that Swedenborg has laid claim to any other. There is one feature of his teachings which must gradually come into prominence with men of broad mind; it is the integral connection of the highest and the commonest truths; and, above all, the absolute necessity of combining the good with the true, of making truth a practical lesson. No future essayist will be able to bring against Swedenborg the objection which Macaulay, in his review of Bacon, makes to the system of Aristotle. It may be a question whether there be not fallacy as well as bias in Macaulay's ideas touching the famous Stagyrite's teachings; indeed, Macaulay's partiality for Bacon seems to have warped his judgment respecting the three celebrated Grecians. But there can hardly be the shadow of a doubt that Swedenborg's works combine all the excellences of Aristotle and Bacon; and that the more they are understood their study will make men, by a natural growth in truth and goodness, not only busy citizens of this world, but, at the same time, practically and internally angels of heaven. ROBERT ABBOTT.