Experiment with magnet—Principle of polarity—Applies universally—Analogies in spiritual world—Zoroastrian religion—Changes in modern environment—Require corresponding changes in religions and philosophies.
Scatter a heap of iron filings on a plate of glass; bring near it a magnet, and tap the glass gently, and you will see the filings arrange themselves in regular forms.
If one pole only of the magnet is brought near the glass the filings arrange themselves in lines radiating from that pole.
Next lay the bar-magnet on the glass so that the filings are influenced by both poles; they will arrange themselves into a series of regular curves.
In other words, the Chaos of a confused heap of inert matter has become a Cosmos of harmonious arrangement assuming definite form in obedience to law.
As the old saying has it, that ‘every road leads to Rome,’ so this simple experiment leads up to a principle which underlies all existence knowable to human faculty—that of Polarity. Why do the iron filings arrange themselves in regular curves? Because they are magnetised by the influence of the larger magnet, and each little particle of iron is converted into a little magnet with two opposite poles attracting and repelling.
What is a magnet? It is a special manifestation of the more general principle of polarity, by which energy, when it passes from the passive or neutralised into the active state, does so under the condition of developing opposite and conflicting energies: no action without reaction, no positive without a negative, and, as we see it in the simplest form in our magnets, no North Pole without a South Pole—like ever repelling like and attracting unlike. The magnet, again, may be considered as a special form of electricity, for if we send an electric current through a coil of copper wire encircling a bar of soft iron, the bar is at once converted into a magnet; so that a magnet may be considered as the summing up, at two opposite extremities or poles, of the attractive and repulsive effects of electric currents circulating round it. But this electricity is itself subject to the law of polarity, whether developed by chemical action in the form of a current or electricity in motion, or by friction in the form of statical electricity of small quantity but high tension. In all cases a positive implies a negative; in all, like repels like and attracts unlike. Conversely, as polarity produces definite structure, so definite structure everywhere implies polarity.
The same principle prevails not only throughout the inorganic or world of matter, but throughout the organic or world of life, and specially throughout its highest manifestations in human life and character, and in the highest products of its evolution, in societies, religions, and philosophies. To show this by some familiar and striking examples is the main object of this book.
But here let me interpose a word of caution. I must avoid the error which vitiates Professor Drummond’s interesting work on ‘Natural Law in the Spiritual World,’ of confounding analogy and identity. Because the principle of polarity pervades alike the natural and spiritual worlds, I am far from assuming that the laws under which it acts are identical; and that virtue and vice, pain and pleasure, ugliness and beauty, are products of the same mathematical changes of sign and inverse squares or cubes of distances, as regulate the attractions and repulsions of molecules and atoms. All I say is, that the same pervading principle may be traced wherever human thought and human knowledge extend; that it is apparently, for some reason unknown to us, the essential condition of all existence within the sphere of that thought and that knowledge; and that what lies beyond it is the great unknown, behind the impenetrable veil which it is not given to mortals to uplift. In like manner, if I call myself ‘a modern Zoroastrian,’ it is not that I wish or expect to teach a new religion or revive an old one, to see Christian churches dedicated to Ormuzd, or right reverend bishops exchanging the apron and shovel-hat for the mitre and flowing robes of the ancient Magi; but simply this. All religions I take to be ‘working hypotheses,’ by which successive ages and races of men try to satisfy the aspirations and harmonise the knowledge which in the course of evolution have come to be, for the time, their spiritual equipment. The best proof of any religion is, that it exists—i.e. that it is part of the same evolution, and that on the whole it works well, i.e. is in tolerable harmony with its environment. When that environment changes, when loftier views of morality prevail, when knowledge is increased and the domain of science everywhere extends its frontier, religions must change with it if they are to remain good working, and not become unworkable and unbelievable hypotheses.