The Freedom of Science

We shall not go back to the ancient representatives of natural science, men like Pythagoras, Aristotle, Archimedes, Albert the Great, Roger Bacon, and others of past ages, partly because there is no doubt about the religious views of those men, partly because research at their time was imperfect. We begin at the rise of modern natural science.

The Old Masters

At the threshold of modern natural science there stands the man who solved the riddle that had puzzled centuries before him, the father of modern astronomy, Nikolaus Copernicus. He had studied at the universities of Cracow, Bologna, Ferrara, and Padua, and while he was one of the foremost historians of his time, it was astronomy that had engaged his enthusiastic devotion from his youth. He was a Catholic priest, a Canon of Frauenberg. “If recent representatives of the Roman Church,” so writes the Protestant theologian, O. Zoeckler, “praise this Frauenberg Canon as a faithful son of their Church, this fact must be granted by Protestants, despite the frankness with which he opposed the Aristotelian and Ptolemaic theories taught by the scholastics, and despite his friendship with the Protestant Rheticus” (Gottes Zeugen im Reiche der Natur, 1906, p. 82). George Joachim, a native of Feldkirch, surnamed Rheticus, and a Protestant professor at Wittenberg, came to Copernicus at Frauenberg, and was cordially received. His praise for “his teacher” is unreserved. He speaks in the same admiring terms of Tiedemann Giese, in those days Bishop of Kulm.

For nearly forty years Copernicus sat in the modest observatory which he had erected at Frauenberg, studying and collecting the material for his book. Even after all this time this deliberate scholar, despite the urging of his friends, especially Bishop Tiedemann Giese and Cardinal Schoenberg, Archbishop of Capua, hesitated for ten years longer before publishing his discoveries. The work was entitled De revolutionibus orbium caelestium, libri VI, and was dedicated to Pope Paul III. The author himself could enjoy his achievement but very little. The first copy sent by the printer reached Copernicus on his deathbed, and a few hours later he breathed his last, on May 24, 1543.

In the introduction to his work this devout Christian scientist wrote: “Who would not be urged by the intimate intercourse with the work of His hands to the contemplation of the Most High, and to the admiration for the Omnipotent Architect of the universe, in whom is the highest happiness, and in whom is the perfection of all that is good?”

Without Copernicus there could have been no Kepler, without Kepler no Newton. These three men, in the words of a recent astronomer, belong inseparably together, they support and supplement one another. It might be fittingly asked, after which of these three the celestial system should be named; and were it possible to ask these three men for their opinion in this matter, they would probably all give the answer that has been ascribed to one or the other of them: Not my system, but God's Order. Like Copernicus, so Kepler and Newton were profoundly religious men.

Johann Kepler, born of Protestant parents in Württemberg in 1571, was raised a Lutheran. In 1594 he was appointed professor of mathematics at a school in Graz, and after that he dwelt for the most time in Austria, which country became his second home. From Graz he was called to Prague to be mathematician at the imperial court, and from there to Linz to be professor at the college there. His last years were passed at Sagan and Ratisbon, where he died in 1630. Even after having left Austria he gratefully remembered the clementia austriaca and the favor archiducalis. Kepler's astronomical achievements are known to everybody, especially his laws of the planets. With an untiring spirit of research he combined beautiful traits of character, cheerfulness, kindness, and modesty, but chiefly a profoundly religious mind. However, he was in difficult circumstances as far as his religious life was concerned. Quite early he came in conflict with the religious authorities of his confession, particularly for the reason that they considered Kepler's Copernican views as against the Bible, a fact which the learned astronomer could not see. There were also other differences. The conflict became more and more aggravated. It cannot be denied that the Lutheran Church-authorities proceeded against Kepler with a lack of consideration never shown by Rome against men like Galileo. Kepler was expelled from the Lutheran Church, and despite his efforts to be reinstated the ban was never lifted.

Like Kepler, so was his predecessor at the Catholic court of Prague, the Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe (died 1601), a devout Protestant, but the trials of Kepler were spared him. His erroneous idea that the Copernican system conflicted with Holy Writ kept him from subscribing to it: it led him to devise a system midway between Copernicusand Ptolemy. His religious sentiment is evidenced by a passage from a letter of his, written at his father's death, “Although there are many consolations for me, of a religious nature based on Holy Writ, and of a philosophical kind drawn from the contemplation of the fate of all men and of the inconstancy of everything under the moon, it is a special comfort for me that my father departed so sweetly and piously from this valley of misery to the heavenly eternal home, where, according to St. Paul, we shall find a lasting abode.”

But let us return to Kepler. There is evidence that at various times in his life he wavered between his Lutheran confession and the Catholic faith, but that is as far as he went. He was of the opinion that the fundamental truths of both were in accord, and he would not presume to judge of the differences; he had taken a view-point of his own, from which he could not be made to recede. On the other hand, he was shocked when his fellow-Lutherans in Styria were on two occasions severely dealt with, although he personally had been treated with especial consideration. Otherwise his opinions on Catholic matters and the “wisdom” of the Catholic Church were eminently fair; he censured his co-religionists for their invidious attacks on Rome, and for their hesitancy in adopting the Gregorian reform of the calendar. He had friendly relation with many a Catholic scientist, was in correspondence with many Jesuits, was even frequently their guest, receiving stimulus, commendation, and scientific communications from them.

To Kepler the study of astronomy became largely a prayer; the finest of his scientific works he was wont to conclude with the doxology of the Psalmist, “Great is our Lord, and great is His power, and of His wisdom there is no number: praise Him ye Heavens; praise ye Him, O Sun, and Moon, ye Stars and light, and praise Him in your language. Thou, too, praise Him, O soul of mine, thy Lord, thy Creator, as long as it is granted to thee” (Harmonices Mundi, v. 9). His name and work is commemorated in the Keplerbund in Germany, which aims at the promotion of scientific knowledge in the sense of Kepler, in opposition to the misuse of natural science for purposes of materialism and atheism.

The work, begun so happily by Copernicus and Kepler, was completed by the great Englishman, Newton (died 1727). It was he who in his immortal work, Philosophiae naturalis principia mathematica, laid bare the law of the universe, which compels the heavenly bodies to revolve about one another. Therewith the laws of Kepler, and consequently the Copernican hypothesis, became established. When, in 1727, this scientist, at the age of eighty-five, died, his mortal remains were entombed in Westminster Abbey, the Pantheon of the British nation. Lofty science and the reverent worship of his Creator were combined in the noble mind of this great Briton. In an appendix to his master-work, referred to above, he cited his proofs for the existence of God, and stated that “the entire order, as to space and time of all things existing, must have necessarily proceeded from the conception and will of an existing Being,” that “the admirable arrangement of sun, planets, and comets could only emanate from the decree and the design of an All-wise and Omnipotent Being,” that “we admire Him for His perfections, we adore and worship Him as the ruler of the world, we, the servants of the great Sovereign of the Universe.” According to Voltaire, it was stated by Newton's disciple, Clarke, that his master invariably pronounced the name of God with reverent attitude and expression.

Inseparably connected with the history of the Copernican system there is the name, which recalls harsh accusations and painful memories, the name of Galileo. That he had nothing in common with the aims of those who have broken with faith and Christianity, nor with that hostility against his Church for which his name is so often misused, has been made evident by what we have said on another page (see page 189). Not only during his early life was his religious turn of mind evidenced, but also later on and up to the end of his life he continued to observe faithfully the duties of his religion.

One of the greatest physicists of recent times was Christian Huygens, who died in 1695 at his native city, The Hague. To him we owe the epoch-making discovery of the undulation of light, while Newton had held light to be a matter of emission. But while Huygens advanced over Newton in this respect, he paid tribute to human limitation by remaining prejudiced against Newton's theory of gravitation, which he rejected. Huygens was a believing Christian.

In his philosophic dissertation “Kosmotheoros,” a posthumous work, he says in regard to the possibility of the celestial bodies being inhabited: “How could the investigator look up to God, the Creator of all these great worlds, otherwise but in the spirit of deepest reverence? Here it will be possible for us to find manifold proofs to demonstrate His providence and wonderful wisdom; likewise will our contemplation contend against those who are spreading false opinions, such as attributing the origin of the earth to the accidental union of atoms, or of the earth being without a beginning and without a creator.”

Religious fervour is still more pronounced in Huygens' contemporary, Robert Boyle (died 1692), a son of Ireland. While he had made considerable achievements in physics, his chief fame lies in chemistry: he inaugurated the period in which chemistry became gradually an independent science. Although working in a different field of research, he is similar to Newton in many respects: like Newton and Huygens, his love of scientific studies induced him to remain unmarried, like Newton he found his last resting place in Westminster Abbey, but chiefly he is like Newton because of his pious, religious mind. He was much occupied with theological studies, and in them the demonstration from nature of the existence of God, and the author's reverence for the Scriptures are most conspicuous: “In relation to the Bible,” he writes, “all the books of men, even the most learned, are like the planets that receive their light and brightness from the sun.” On his deathbed he made a foundation for apologetic lectures: the Boyle-lectures are held to this very day.

We shall have to pass by others. We might point to the English philosopher and statesman, Francis Bacon of Verulam (died 1626), who won his place in the history of natural science by his urging of the empiric method; we might point to W. Harvey (died 1658), the discoverer of the blood-circulation, a man of earnest and simple piety; we might mention the pious Albrecht von Haller (died 1777), J. Bernouilli(died 1728) the co-inventor of integral calculus, the man of whom his great disciple Euler relates that this Bernouilli, co-inventor of the most difficult of all calculations, this great mathematician, expressed regret in his old age that he had devoted so many years to science, and only few hours to religion, and that on his deathbed he admonished those around him to adhere to the Word of God because that alone is the word of life.

We shall name but one more, a son of northern Sweden, the famous botanist, Karl Linné (died 1778). He, too, found God in the living nature which he studied so diligently.

In commenting on his Systema naturae he writes: “Man, know thyself; in theological aspect, that thou art created with an immortal soul, after the image of God; in moral aspect, that thou alone art blessed with a rational soul for the praise of thy sublime Creator. I ask, why did God put man equipped thus in sense and spirit on this earth, where he perceives this wonderfully ordered nature? For what, but to praise and admire the invisible Master-builder for His magnificent work.”

These are the great masters and reformers of recent natural science, the men who opened up the paths which natural science of the present day is still pursuing; most of these savants were of a Christian mind, many of them even pious. There were but few indifferent or irreligious, such as E. Halley (died 1742), who computed the cycle of the comet since named after him, and G. de Buffon (died 1788): but they are a small minority. The period of highest achievement in modern natural science bears the stamp of religion; indeed, to a great extent it bears the halo of devotion and fervour. An incompatibility of research and faith, a solidarity of science and anti-Christian tendency, was never known to the mind of these great masters.

“Any one who has grasped even the elements of natural science, the unity of natural forces and their rigid conformity to laws, becomes a monist if he has the faculty for clear reasoning, and as to the others, there is no help for them anyway” (L. Plate, Ultramontane Weltanschauung und moderne Lebenskunde, 1907, 11). This sort of argument is shouted at us in manifold variations. How does that statement look in the light of history? Men like Copernicus, Kepler, Newton, Linné, Boyle, thus knew nothing of the elements of natural science, nothing of the conformity to laws of natural forces: because they were neither monists nor atheists, but worshippers of the Creator of heaven and earth! A more painful contrast cannot be imagined than to see these great masters and pioneers rated as lesser minds, ignorant of real natural science, by those who trail far behind them and who are seeking their footsteps. The religious conviction of the natural scientists of a past age is sufficient proof that, not the research in natural science, but other causes lead minds to infidelity.

Modern Times

We turn to the nineteenth century. Does the picture perhaps change essentially in the century that has shown its children so much progress, that has disclosed so many secrets of nature, but has also taught irreligion to thousands of men? Does it become true now that natural science and Christian fundamental truths are opposed to each other in hostile attitude? Claims to this effect are not lacking. In fact, the number of those who refuse assent to the Christian religion is increasing. But even at this time we do not find such to be the majority of eminent scientists, and our inquiry is about eminent scientists, those who make the science of a period, not those who can hardly expect to have their names known by posterity. A considerable number, indeed the majority, of the master minds of natural science, even in the nineteenth century, reject materialism and atheism, and not infrequently they are pious Christians; another proof that just upon the deeper and more serious minds religion exercises a stronger power of attraction.

Let us commence with the astronomers.

“The sciences and their true representatives,” so states the renowned Mädler of Dorpat, “do not deserve the reproaches and imputations heaped upon them from a certain side, that they would estrange man from God, even turn him into an atheist … we hope to show of astronomy especially that just the contrary is taking place” (Reden und Abhandlungen über Gegenstände der Himmelskunde, 1870, 326).

The greatest astronomer of the nineteenth century, and one of the greatest discoverers of all ages, was undoubtedly William Herschel (died 1822). His son John Herschel (died 1871) became his “worthy successor, almost his peer, who won a fame nearly equal to that of the inherited name” (R. Wolf, Geschichte der Astronomie, 1877, 505). While not hostile to religion, the father had been so engrossed in his restless research, that religion received little attention, but religious thought and sentiment played a prominent part in the son. Time and again he opposed with zeal the materialistic-atheistic explanation of the universe. “Nothing is more unfounded than the objection made by some well-meaning but undiscerning persons, that the study of natural science induces a doubt of religion and of the immortality of the soul. Be assured that its logical effect upon any well-ordered mind must be just the opposite” (Preliminary Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy, 1830, 7).

It was Leverrier (died 1877), Director of the Paris Observatory, who by calculations ascertained the existence and exact position of the remotest planet Neptune even before it was discovered. When eventually Galle of Berlin really found the planet in the position indicated, Leverrier's name became famous. But greater still were the achievements of this indefatigable investigator in respect to the known planets. When he presented to the French Academy the final part of his great work, the calculations of Jupiter and Saturnus, he said: “During our long labours, which it took us thirty-five years to complete, we needed the support obtained by the contemplation of one of the grandest works of creation, and by the thought that it strengthened in us the imperishable truths of a spiritualistic (i. e., non-materialistic) philosophy.” He was an orthodox Catholic, known as a Clerical. A newspaper complained of him that “Under the empire he was a clerical Senator, concerned with the interests of the altar no less than with those of the throne” (Kneller, Das Christenthum und die Vertreter der neueren Naturwissenschaft, 1904, 96. In the following pages we have made frequent use of the material gathered in this sterling work. See also James J. Walsh, Makers of Modern Medicine (1907); and the same author's Catholic Churchmen in Science, I (1909), II (1910)).

One year after the death of Leverrier another scientist of the first rank died. It was A. Secchi (died 1878). Member of nearly all the scientific academies of the world, he was not only a faithful Christian, but also a priest: for forty-five years, and until his death, he wore the garb of the Society of Jesus. As an astronomer he has been named, not without good cause, the father of astrophysics: he ascertained the chemical composition of about 4,000 stars and classified them into what is known as Secchi's four types of stars. As a physicist he wrote an important work on The Unity of Natural Forces. He was also an eminent meteorologist.

At the second International Exposition at Paris his meteorograph was quite a feature. The Kölnische Zeitung wrote, on March 2, 1878: “Visitors of the Italian Exhibition, at the second World's Fair in Paris, could see the marvellous instrument which does the work of ten observers and surpasses them in accuracy. At the same time they could obtain all needed information about details and scope of the meteorograph from the exhibitor himself; for Secchi was there daily, devoting several hours to answering questions in any of the civilized languages of Europe. It is peculiarly interesting to observe the silent movement of the hands working day and night like registrars of the natural forces, and recording for every quarter of an hour with the utmost accuracy all changes in temperature, in humidity, every variance of the wind, any movement of the mercury in the barometer. Even the force of the wind and the time of rain is registered by this wonderful instrument.” The inventor, out of 40,000 art exhibitors, was awarded the great golden medal. He also received the insignia of an officer of the French Legion of Honor, while the Emperor of Brazil appointed him an officer of the “Golden Rose.”

The French scientist Moigno writes of Secchi: “Secchi was very pious, and as a worker he knew no limits. He was ever ready to evolve new scientific plans, to enter into new and long campaigns of observation. The mere list of his 800 works reveals him as one of the most intrepid workers of our century. And let this be considered: every one of these writings, no matter how brief, was the result of subtle and difficult researches and observations. And after devoting the day to arduous writing, he passed the night searching the skies”(Pohle, P. Angelo Secchi, 1904, 191).

In the nineteenth century, too, astronomy has not failed in its mission of leading to God. A long list could be named of believing astronomers of great achievements. For instance, the Roman astronomer Respighi (died 1889), a resolute Catholic. And Lamont, Director of the Observatory of Munich, whose Catholic orthodoxy was generally known. Heis (died 1877) likewise was a zealous Catholic: when he had finished his map of the sky, after 27 years of hard work, he sent one of the first copies to Pius IX. The astronomers Bessel and Olbersspeak in their letters of God, of the hereafter and Providence, in a way that has nothing in common with materialism.

Secchi was not the only priest and monk among the astronomers of the nineteenth century. The very first day of the century was made notable by the astronomical achievement of a monk. Joseph Piazzi, a member of the Theatine order (died 1826), discovered on that day the first asteroid, Ceres. The great mathematician Gauss named his first born son Joseph, in Piazzi's honor.

It is, indeed, a remarkable fact, testifying strongly against the incompatibility of natural science and faith, that just the Catholic clergy, the prominent representatives of religion and faith, have contributed a large contingent to the number of natural scientists. Poggendorf's Biographical Dictionary of the Exact Sciences contains, down to 1863, according to preface and recapitulation, the names and biographical sketches of 8,847 natural scientists. Of these, 862 are Catholic priests, amounting to 9.8 per cent. To appreciate these 10 per cent it must be taken into account that most of them were not connected with natural science by their position, but only through their personal interest, and most of them were engaged in other duties.

Mathematics, although not natural science proper, is inseparably connected with it. For this reason we may extend our consideration to mathematicians. We only point to the three greatest, Euler, Gauss, and Cauchy, and all three were religious men. Euler (died 1783 at Petersburg) has no peer in the recent history of science in prolific activity: ten times he was awarded the prize by the Paris Academy of Sciences. Cantor says of him: “Like most great mathematicians, Euler was profoundly religious, though without bigotry. He personally conducted every evening the private devotions at his home, and one of the few polemical books he wrote was a defence of revelation against the objections of free-thinkers.” Its publication at Berlin in 1747, in close proximity of the court of Frederick the Great, presupposed a certain moral courage. In this book he refers to the difficulties found in all sciences, even in geometry, adding: “By what right then can the free-thinkers demand of us to reject at once Holy Writ in its entirety, because of some difficulties which frequently are not even so important as those complained of in geometry?” Gauss (died 1855) is perhaps the greatest mathematician of all times. It sounds incredible, yet it is well attested, that as a child of three years, when in the workshop of his father, a plain mechanic, he was able to correct the father if he made a mistake in figuring out the wages paid to his journeymen. His biographer, Waltershausen, says of him: “The conviction of a personal existence after death, the firm belief in an ultimate Ruler of things, in an eternal, just, all-wise and all-powerful God, formed the foundation of his religious life, which, with his unsurpassed scientific researches, resolved itself into a perfect harmony.” Cauchy (died 1857) was a man of most extraordinary genius, whose creative genius knew how to discover new paths everywhere, and almost at every weekly meeting of the Paris Academy Cauchy had something new to offer. In addition he was a dutiful Catholic, and a member of St. Vincent's Society. When, shortly before the February revolution, an onslaught upon the Jesuit schools was made, he defended them in two pamphlets.