Browning and Dogma Part 10

Earth breaks up, time drops away, In flows heaven, with its new day Of endless life, when He who trod, Very man and very G.o.d, This earth in weakness, shame and pain, Dying the death whose signs remain Up yonder on the accursed tree,-- Shall come again, no more to be Of captivity the thrall, But the one G.o.d, All in all, King of kings, Lord of lords, As His servant John received the words, "I died, and live for evermore!" (ll. 581-593.)

The conviction is almost inevitable that here something beyond even the power of dramatic genius has to be reckoned with; that some spirit more nearly akin to intimate personal sympathy served as inspiration of this pa.s.sage.

Carried away by the infection of the prevailing enthusiasm, the spectator questions as to the cause which has led him to remain without upon the threshold-stone of the cathedral, whilst He who has led him hither is within. And the answer which Reason returns is, that whilst the Divine Wisdom may be capable of discerning the faith and love existent beneath the outward imagery, yet with "mere man" the case is otherwise; hence for him to disregard the inward promptings of his nature is dangerous to his spiritual welfare. Thus the decision:

I, a mere man, fear to quit The due G.o.d gave me as most fit To guide my footsteps through life's maze, Because himself discerns all ways Open to reach him. (ll. 621-625.)

For him to whom the bare walls of Zion Chapel have proved repellant, the glories of St. Peter's may conceivably be fatally attractive in their appeal to the senses: such, reasonably or unreasonably, is at least the belief of the soliloquist. The argument of this eleventh Section is perhaps the most difficult to follow satisfactorily of all those leading to the ultimate choice of creed. Before attempting to estimate the worth of the conclusions, it may be well to trace briefly the line of thought by which they appear to have been reached.

(1) The spectator, at first struck by the glory of outward display as a means of still imposing upon the world "Rome's gross yoke," is yet led, through proximity to the Divine Presence, whilst seeing the error, "above the scope of error" to realize the love. And further, to admit (2) that the love inspiring the wors.h.i.+ppers of St. Peter's on this Christmas Eve of 1849 was also "the love of those first Christian days," a love which did not hesitate to sacrifice all which might interpose between itself and the Divine Love whence it emanated. When

The antique sovereign Intellect Which then sat ruling in the world, ... was hurled From the throne he reigned upon. (ll. 650-653.)

Subsequently followed all the wealth of poetry and rhetoric, of sculpture and painting sometime the pride of the cla.s.sical world. Love, and it _was_ Love which was acting, drew her children aside from these intellectual and sensuous gratifications, and pointed to the Crucified. She thus, says the soliloquist, had demanded of her votaries vast sacrifices which might reasonably have been held essential in the early days of Christianity. We have already seen, indeed, how empty of ultimate satisfaction had been these same intellectual pleasures to Cleon: how obviously light would have been, to him, the sacrifice involved in an acceptance of any faith which should afford a definite and reasonable hope for a future state of existence: how small a price would have been the loss of life temporal in view of the gain of life eternal. (3) But the critic, whilst admitting the sublimity of the sacrifice of the first century of the Christian era, deprecates the demand made for its repet.i.tion in the nineteenth. It is time for Love's children not only to "creep, stand steady upon their feet," but to "walk already. Not to speak of trying to climb" (ll.

697-699). The limitations imposed upon the intellect and its free development should long since have been discarded. (4) Yet, though recognizing this to the full, the speaker will not condemn one of those, however mistaken, whose foreheads bear "_lover_ written above the earnest eyes of them." These wors.h.i.+ppers within St. Peter's need some satisfaction of the demands made upon their nature by an inherent craving for beauty; and yet have they sacrificed for Love's sake all that they might have found of intense enjoyment in unfettered life. Dwelling amidst the glories of Rome, ancient and modern, they yet turn from the "Majesties of art around them." Faith struggles to suppress intellectual and artistic cravings; and these, at length subdued, they "offer up to G.o.d for a present." Denied in the world without the sensuous satisfaction for which they yearn, they would seek it in the display attendant on the Roman Catholic ritual. This is the view of the man who believes himself to be the true "lover" of G.o.d, capable of wors.h.i.+pping in spirit and in truth.

How far is he justified in such criticism? Unquestionably he is prejudiced. There exists an unconscious mental bias towards that creed which he is represented as finally accepting; and there is little doubt that it is Browning's intention to expose the prejudice. The failure in appreciation of the ceremonial at St. Peter's arises from inability to apprehend beauty in the outward accessories of the service of which he is witness. To his nature it would appear that the demand upon the sensuous side is not so strong as he imagines when he expresses the fear of entering the cathedral and joining the wors.h.i.+pping crowd. He seems, moreover, to ignore, or to pa.s.s over lightly, the productions of Christian art, whether in painting or in the music of religious ritual, when he inquires (ll. 681, _et seq._):

Love, surely, from that music's lingering, Might have filched her organ-fingering, Nor chosen rather to set prayings To hog-grunts, praises to horse-neighings.

He ignores, too, the value of symbolism in the later mocking allusion to this experience as "buffoonery--posturings and petticoatings."

In the main line of thought, however, beginning with Section XI, and developed more fully in XII, is treated no imaginary danger, but that bound inevitably to attend on any religious system in which authority is paramount. The error attributed to the advocates of the Roman Catholic creed is that of rendering the head too completely subservient to the heart. Faith cannot indeed be acquired by any considerations of logic; nevertheless, there is no necessity that Reason and Faith should prove antagonistic forces. To the brain, as well as to the heart, must be allowed scope for development. Hence the speaker represents that Church, in which freedom of thought is limited, as interposing as an intermediary between the conscience and the Divine influence. Such Church he regards as having devoted its energies to the development of a single element or faculty of human nature to the exclusion or limitation of the rest.

Nevertheless, in one direction there has been development to an extraordinary degree: and Browning himself, as we have good reason to know, would have been unlikely to criticize adversely this whole-hearted devotion to a cause. For ill.u.s.tration the soliloquist employs that of the sculptor who, without calculating the dimensions of his marble, devotes his energies to the production of a perfect head and shoulders only. This, though necessarily unfinished in actual performance, is far grander in conception than a smaller and fully modelled figure; and the spectator is free to seek elsewhere the completion of the unfinished statue in the work of an artist complementary to that of the first. Thus the onlooker at St.

Peter's resolves to accept the provision there offered for the "satisfaction of his love," then depart elsewhere--depart to seek the completion of the statue--"that [his] intellect may find its share." And it is noteworthy that the same critic, who condescends to the employment of language such as that marking the references to the service of St Peter's, ascribes to the Church of Rome the development of that element which he esteems highest in human nature. Love is ever with the author of _Christmas Eve_, as with the soliloquist, of worth immeasurably greater than mere intellect.

IV. With Section XIII the critic of Zion Chapel pa.s.ses once more into the night in search of satisfaction for those demands of the intellect which have been left unanswered at St. Peter's; and in Section XIV he is represented as finding that which he seeks. Love and Faith to the exclusion of intellectual development he has left in the cathedral at Rome; Intellect without Love he meets in the Lecture Hall at Gottingen.

Believing himself to have learned the lesson that wherever even nominal followers of Christ are to be found, there, too, is the Divine Presence, he is now "cautious" how he "suffers to slip"

The chance of joining in fellows.h.i.+p With any that call themselves his friends. (ll. 800-803.)

Hence, entering the Hall, he follows the course of the consumptive Lecturer's reasoning on "the myth of Christ." As to this fable which "Millions believe to the letter" he (the Lecturer) proposes to attempt the work of discrimination between truth and legend.

(1) He reminds his audience, and justly, that it is well at times to pause to inquire concerning the source of articles of their belief; historic fact may become disguised or concealed by accretions of legendary narrative gathered round it: by the various expositions a.s.signed it by commentators of different ages. (2) Having thus examined and freed his "myth" from the misinterpretations of the early disciples, from later additions and modifications; when all has been done he yet admits that the residuum is well worthy of preservation.

A Man!--a right true man, however, Whose work was worthy a man's endeavour. (ll. 876-877.)

Moreover

Was _he_ not surely the first to insist on The natural sovereignty of our race? (ll. 888-889.)

As it were in startling comment upon the a.s.sertion of this natural sovereignty, the Professor's further speech is interrupted by a fit of coughing, and the listener avails himself of the opportunity thus offered to leave the Hall.

Once more free to breathe the outer air his critical powers rea.s.sert themselves, and he sees from a point of observation, sufficiently removed, the relative effects of the excesses of the most widely differing forms of Christianity and of that form of belief or of scepticism which denies the divinity of the founder of the creed. His decision is given in favour of superst.i.tion as opposed to scepticism.

Truth's atmosphere may grow mephitic When Papist struggles with Dissenter,

Each, that thus sets the pure air seething, May poison it for healthy breathing-- But the Critic leaves no air to poison. (ll. 898-909.)

Then follows the criticism of the Critic.

What has the lecturer, indeed, left to the followers of the Christ?

(1) Intellect? Is the possession of pure intellect to be accounted cause for wors.h.i.+p? Even so, others have taught morality as Christ taught it, with the difference (and this surely an advantage from the critic's standpoint) that these teachers have failed to a.s.sert of themselves that to which Christ laid claim on his own behalf: that,

He, the sage and humble, Was also one with the Creator. (ll. 922-923.)

(2) Wors.h.i.+p of the intellect being thus disallowed, what then of the moral worth of the Man Christ as admitted by the Lecturer? Is mere virtue, however great in degree, sufficient to claim as of right for its possessor the submission of his fellow men? Perfection of moral character being allowed, is this adequate reason that the Christ should be held supreme ruler of the race? To answer the question satisfactorily one of two theories must be accepted: either "goodness" is of human "invention" or it is a divine gift freely bestowed. If the first, the Professor's listener holds that "wors.h.i.+p were that man's fit requital" who should have proved himself capable of exhibiting in his own life, _for the first time in the world's history_, that which "goodness" really is. Recognizing, however, the incontrovertible fact that moral worth was present in the world prior to the foundation of Christianity, the so-called "invention" of goodness resolves itself into a mere matter of definition, and the adjustment of names to qualities already existent. In this case he who has achieved this work is no more deserving of wors.h.i.+p as the originator or creator of goodness than is Harvey to be adjudged inventor of the circulation of the blood. One is inclined here to question whether the speaker is not carrying his argument beyond the point necessary to the exposure of the weakness of the Lecturer's position as professed follower of a merely human Christ. Whether or not this be so, he has succeeded in proving logically untenable the first of the two hypotheses suggested in this connection. What then of the second? If goodness is admittedly the direct gift of G.o.d, if the founder of Christianity taught how best to preserve such gift "free from fleshly taint"; then he merits indeed the t.i.tle of Saint, but no more transcendent honour, his powers differing in degree, not in kind, from those of his fellow men: he was inspired, but as Shakespeare was inspired. No immensity of virtue may effect the conversion of human nature into the divine; and the man of supreme moral dignity, as of marvellous intellectual capacity, remains man only; vastly, but yet measurably, beyond his fellows; the position attained being one to which it is possible that humanity may again attain, nay, which it may even surpa.s.s in the future "by growth of soul." And this divine gift of goodness may, moreover, necessarily be bestowed in accordance with the divine will; hence, he who made this man Pilate may well make "this other"

Christ. Thus then, if the Prophet of Nazareth is to be regarded as mere man, the Professor's argument breaks down following the adoption of either hypothesis--that involving a divine or a human origin of goodness.

Is there any point at which the faith of the Christian may come into contact with that of him who, whilst calling himself a follower of Christ, by a denial of His divinity refuses credence to a direct a.s.sertion on the part of his leader? To the Christian the main proof of divine inspiration is the spark of divine light kindled within the human breast, that which supplies motive for action, which instigates to practical application of the good already recognized as good by the intelligence: not identical with conscience (as is clear from line 1033), but the power which awakens the activities of conscience. Here again a suggestion of Browning's usual estimate of the relative worth of the intellect and the heart. The man whose moral standard of life is most depraved is yet possessed of the capacity for discriminating between good and evil; since such capacity does not necessarily imply the co-existence of a life-giving faith, and through faith alone may knowledge become of practical utility.

Whom do you count the worst man upon earth?

Be sure, he knows, in his conscience, more Of what right is, than arrives at birth In the best man's acts that we bow before. (ll. 1032-1035.)

To _know_ is not to _do_: a distinction akin to that drawn in the Epistle of James[64] between intellectual credence and living faith--between belief, the result of the acceptance of certain facts making inevitable appeal to the intellect, and faith inspiring life, the ultimate results of which are manifest in action. This distinction we find again strikingly presented in parabolic form in _Shah Abbas_ of _Ferishtah's Fancies_.

The most marked lines of divergence between listener and lecturer would appear then to be that mere abstract good, even morality personified, is insufficient for the satisfaction of the demands of human nature: that the life lived in Palestine did not denote a mere renewal of things old, a more extended development of the good already existent in the world. It introduced a new and more active principle of life, that to which all past history had been leading up, that from which the future history of the human race must take its starting point. _The revelation of G.o.d in man had been made to men._ To sum up--

Morality to the uttermost, Supreme in Christ as we all confess, Why need we prove would avail no jot To make him G.o.d, if G.o.d he were not?

What is the point where himself lays stress?

Does the precept run, "Believe in good, In justice, truth, now understood For the first time?"--or, "Believe in me, Who lived and died, yet essentially Am Lord of Life?" Whoever can take The same to his heart and for mere love's sake Conceive of the love,--that man obtains A new truth; no conviction gains Of an old one only, made intense By a fresh appeal to his faded sense. (ll. 1045-1059.)

These the lines of divergence. Are there none of approach? asks the listener who is gradually learning from his night's experience to seek a common bond of sympathy between himself and his fellow men, rather than an increase of the repulsion so spontaneously awakened within the walls of Zion Chapel. At Rome he took his share in the "feast of love," which afforded little satisfaction to intellectual cravings; here he would fain accept all that may accrue to him from the pursuit of learning apart from love.

Unlearned love was safe from spurning-- Can't we respect your loveless learning? (ll. 1084-1085.)

Recognizing the zeal for truth which has instigated the critical investigations of the lecturer, he is prepared, with a liberality of which he is clearly sufficiently conscious, to allow to him and to his followers such benefit as may be derived from the acceptance of "a loveless creed"; even conceding to them, so be it they still desire it, the name of Christian, which he too bears. With generosity yet greater he will refrain from all attempt to disturb that condition of stoical calm to which they have at length attained, by pointing out to them the weaknesses of their theory, which he has just so amply demonstrated to his own satisfaction.

V. Thus he leaves the lecture hall in a "genial mood of tolerance," of which the conclusions of Section XIX are the outcome. The element of truth existent in varying forms of creed, beneath all dissimilarities of outward expression, has at length become recognizable; carrying with it the prevision of that complete union ultimately to be effected before "the general Father's throne." When "the saints of many a warring creed" shall have learned

That _all_ paths to the Father lead Where Self the feet have spurned.

Where

Moravian hymn and Roman chant In one devotion blend;

and all

Discords find harmonious close, In G.o.d's atoning ear.[65]

Of what n.o.bler conception, it may be asked, is the human imagination capable? Nevertheless, to certain natures (so holds the soliloquist, clearly recognizing his own as of this calibre) there is danger lest this generous comprehensiveness should prove inseparable from the "mild indifferentism" fatal to action. Hence in Section XX, whilst engaged in watching his

Foolish heart expand In the lazy glow of benevolence, (ll. 1154-1155.)

he is not surprised to perceive, in the token of the receding vesture, indications of the divine disapproval of his position. And he is led to the conclusion that not only for the individual wors.h.i.+pper must there be some special form of creed best adapted to the individual needs of temperament, but (as ll. 1158-1159 would appear to suggest) some _absolute_ form of creed may possibly be discoverable. And to this "single track":