Strongly-held religious beliefs are supportive for
individuals but can have distressing consequences within families, especially
when differences of view drive wedges between parents and children. A very
public airing of such a difference was made by Edmund Gosse in Father and Son,1 initially
published anonymously, nineteen years after the death of his father.
Edmund Gosse
Philip Henry Gosse
Philip Henry Gosse was a Natural Historian with a marvellous
talent for communication in books, illustrations, lectures and field courses. Always
a Christian, Henry became a member of the Brethren and he was convinced of the
imminence of the Second Coming. With
this came belief in the literal truth of The Bible and complete acceptance that
the whole Book was the Word of God, something which came up many times in his
writing and in his contacts with people. Even though he was by nature a shy
man, Henry would waste little time in engaging those he met in conversation
about his Christian beliefs, although he also maintained scientific contacts
and correspondence without introducing this subject.
Edmund was Henry’s only child and his mother died when the
boy was only 7 years old, an event that drew father and son closely together.
They moved to Torquay and Henry spent much time collecting marine life (with Edmund in support),
observing organisms using his aquarium tanks and microscope, writing, painting
and illustrating, and becoming the leader of his own group of local Brethren. He
was quite immovable in his faith and it is difficult to see where any
change might come, as he was effectively isolated, although he
did follow world affairs and maintained his contacts with friends and
colleagues. As the Second Coming could happen at any moment, it was important
that Edmund should also be “saved” and he was; this joyful event was marked by
his adult baptism at the age of ten. Everything was now complete and ready.
As Edmund grew up, he began to question the strict limits of
Henry’s religious views and, when Edmund moved to London as a seventeen-year
old, the separation of the two men inevitably resulted in Edmund developing his own
path in life. It was to result in disappointment for Henry, and Edmund’s visits
to Torquay were marked by the anguish caused by the differences between the two
men. One visit caused Henry to write Edmund a letter that he kept and from
which he quoted in Father and Son. Here
is a part:
Nothing
seemed left to which I could appeal. We had, I found, no common ground. The
Holy Scriptures had no longer any authority: you had taught yourself to evade
their inspiration. Any particular Oracle of God which pressed you, you could
easily explain away; even the very character of God you weighed in your balance
of fallen reason, and fashioned it accordingly. You were thus sailing down the
rapid tide of time towards Eternity, without a single authoritative guide
(having cast your chart overboard), except what you might fashion and forge on
your own anvil, – except what you might guess,
in fact.
Do
not think I am speaking in passion, and using unwarrantable strength of words.
If the written Word is not absolutely authoritative, what do we know of God?
What more then can we infer, that is, guess, – as the thoughtful heathens
guessed, – Plato, Socrates, Cicero, – from dim and mute surrounding phenomena?
What do we know of Eternity? Of our relations to God? Especially of the
relations of a sinner to God? What of
reconciliation? What of the capital question – How can a God of perfect spotless
rectitude deal with me, a corrupt sinner, who have trampled on those of His
laws which were even written on my conscience?...
This
dreadful conduct of yours I had intended, after much prayer, to pass by in
entire silence; but your apparently sincere inquiries after the cause of my
sorrow have led me to go to the root of the matter, and I could not stop short
of the development contained in this letter. It is with pain, not in anger,
that I send it; hoping that you may be induced to review the whole course, of
which this is only a stage, before God. If this grace were granted to you, oh!
how joyfully should I bury all the past, and again have sweet and tender
fellowship with my beloved Son, as of old.
Just as the letter was awful for Edmund,
so, too, it was for Henry. The sadness of the position is plain to see and
Edmund’s last word on the topic in Father
and Son has done much to gain Henry Gosse the reputation of a religious
bigot, although Edmund certainly also recognises his father’s extraordinary talents
and his warmth and kindness during their times together in Torquay.
The unfortunate truth is that the evangelical
Christianity of Henry Gosse was exclusive and he could not accept that there could
be any other acceptable views. He had also grown into a position where there
was no possibility that any outside influences could cause him to change. It is
all such a pity because he was a wonderful man in so many ways and one cannot
doubt his honesty and sincerity. Could he have taken on board just a little of Edmund’s point of view,
without compromising his faith or his principles, if less imprisoned by his
isolation?
Having written about both men, and
felt rather close to Henry as a result, 2 I found their conflict made
me sad. Unfortunately, the religious antagonism shown by Henry and Edmund is
far from unique and it is not just a matter between individuals. As we know
well, strongly-held and immovable religious views create modern-day conflicts
beyond those of families.
1 Edmund Gosse (1907) Father and Son. London, William
Heinemann.
2 Roger S Wotton (2012) Walking
with Gosse: Natural History, Creation and Religious Conflicts. Southampton,
Clio Publishing.
