{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_25291/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_25291","id":"gutenberg_25291","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/25291","summary":null,"tags":["Atheism","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Theism"],"text":"Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Martin Pettit and\nthe Online Distributed Proofreading Team at\nhttp://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHEISM OR ATHEISM\n\nTHE GREAT ALTERNATIVE\n\nBy CHAPMAN COHEN\n\nTHE PIONEER PRESS,\n\n61, Farringdon Street,\n----E.C.4----\n\n1921.\n\n\n\n\nContents.\n\n\nPart I.\n\nAN EXAMINATION OF THEISM.\n                                                PAGE\n\nChapter I.     What is God?                        9\n\nChapter II.    The Origin of the Idea of God      20\n\nChapter III.   Have we a Religious Sense?         37\n\nChapter IV.    The Argument from Existence        49\n\nChapter V.     The Argument from Causation        59\n\nChapter VI.    The Argument from Design           69\n\nChapter VII.   The Disharmonies of Nature         85\n\nChapter VIII.  God and Evolution                  94\n\nChapter IX.    The Problem of Pain               110\n\n\nPart II.\n\nSUBSTITUTES FOR ATHEISM.\n\nChapter X.     A Question of Prejudice           131\n\nChapter XI.    What is Atheism?                  138\n\nChapter XII.   Spencer and the Unknowable        151\n\nChapter XIII.  Agnosticism                       169\n\nChapter XIV.   Atheism and Morals                181\n\nChapter XV.    Atheism Inevitable                194\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nShrouded in the cloak of philosophy, the question of the existence of\nGod continues to attract attention, and, I may add, to command more\nrespect than it deserves. For it is only by a subterfuge that it assumes\nthe rank of philosophy. \"God\" enters into philosophy only when it is\nbeginning to lose caste in its proper home, and then in its new\nenvironment it undergoes such a transformation as to contain very little\nlikeness to its former, and proper, self. It disowns its parentage and\nclaims another origin, and, like so many genealogists devising pedigrees\nfor the parvenu, certain philosophers attempt to map out for the\nnewcomer an ancestry to which he can establish no valid claim. Nothing\nwould, indeed, surprise the ancestor more than to be brought face to\nface with his descendant. He would not be more astonished than would the\nancient Eohippus on meeting with a modern dray-horse. In anthropology or\nhistory the idea of God may fairly claim a place, but it has no place in\nphilosophy on any sensible meaning of the word.\n\nThe consequence of this transference of the idea of God to the sphere of\nphilosophy is the curious position that the God in which people believe\nis not the God whose existence is made the product of an argument, and\nthe God of the argument is not the God of belief. The theory and the\nfact have no more likeness to each other than a chestnut horse has to a\nhorse-chestnut. A fallacy is perpetuated by appealing to a fact, but the\nfact immediately discredits the fallacy by disowning it in practice. The\ngrounds upon which the belief in God is supposed to rest, the reasoning\nfrom which it springs, are seen to follow the belief instead of\npreceding it. The roots are in the air, and on closer inspection are\nseen to be artificial adornments, so many imitations that have been hung\nthere for the purpose of imposing on near-sighted or careless observers.\n\nThe purpose of the following pages is to make clear the nature of this\nalliance and to expose the real character of what we are asked to\nworship. There are, of course, many on whose ears any amount of\nreasoning will fall without effect. To that class this book will not\nappeal; it may be questioned whether many will even read it. They will\ngo on professing the belief they have always professed, and taking pride\nin the fact that they have an intellect which is superior to proof, and\nwhich disdains evidence when it runs contrary to \"my belief.\" Others\nwill, I expect, complain that the treatment of so solemn a subject is\nnot \"reverent\" enough. But why _any_ subject should be treated\nreverently, as a condition of examination, is more than I have ever been\nable to discover. It is asking the inquirer to commence his\ninvestigation with a half-promise to find something good in what he is\nabout to examine. Whether a thing is worthy of reverence or not is a\nconclusion that must follow investigation, not precede it. And one does\nnot observe any particular reverence shown by the religious person\ntowards those beliefs in which he does not happen to believe.\n\nBut there are some who will read thoughtfully an examination of so old a\nsubject as Theism, and it is to those that these pages are addressed.\nOne cannot hope to say anything that is strikingly new on so well worn a\nsubject as the existence of God, but there are many who will read an old\nsubject when presented in a new work, and even then there is also the\npossibility of presenting an old topic in a slightly new form. And I\nthink these will find the main lines of the defence set up by the\nGoddite dealt with in a manner that should at least make the point at\nissue clear.\n\nFinally, it is one aim of this book to press home the point that the\nlogical issue is between Theism and Atheism. That there is no logical\nhalting place between the two, and that any attempt to call a halt is\nlittle more than a concession to a desire for mental or social\nconvenience, seems to me as clear as anything can well be. And there is\nreally nothing gained, ultimately, by the halt. Disinclination on the\npart of the non-Theist to push the issue to its logical conclusion is\ntreated by the Theist as inability to do so, and is used as an argument\nin support of his own belief. In matters of the intellect, compromise is\nalmost always a dangerous policy. It heartens one's enemies and\ndisheartens one's friends. And there is really no adequate reason why\nthose who have given up belief in deity should continue to treat this\nmaster superstition of the ages as though it were one of our most\nvaluable inheritances, to be surrendered with lowered heads and sinking\nhearts. We who know both sides know that in giving up the belief in\ndeity we have lost nothing of value, nothing that need cause us a single\nregret. And on that point we certainly can speak with authority; for we\nhave been where the Theist is, he has not been where we are. Many of us\nknow quite well all that is meant by the fear and trembling with which\nthe believer looks upon a world without God. And we know how idle the\nfear is--as idle as a child's fear of the dark. What the world is like\n_with_ God, there is all the experience of history to inform us; and it\nwould indeed be strange if love and brotherhood, armed with the weapons\nthat science has given us, could not produce a better human society than\nhas ever existed under the dominion of the Gods.\n\n\n\n\nPart I.\n\nAN EXAMINATION OF THEISM.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nWHAT IS GOD?\n\n\nSoon after that famous Atheist, Charles Bradlaugh, entered the House of\nCommons, it is said that a fellow member approached him with the remark,\n\"Good God, Bradlaugh, what does it matter whether there is a God or\nnot?\" Bradlaugh's answer is not recorded, but one is impelled to open\nthe present examination of the belief in God, by putting the same\nquestion in another form. Is the belief in God, as we are so often\nassured, one of the most important questions that can engage the\nattention of man? Under certain conditions one can conceive a rational\nanswer in the affirmative. Where the mental and social conditions are\nsuch that men seriously believe the incidence of natural forces on\nmankind to be determined by the direct action of \"God,\" one can\nappreciate right belief concerning him being treated as of first rate\nimportance. In such circumstances wrong ideas are the equivalent of\ndisaster. But we are not in that condition to-day. It is, indeed, common\nground with all educated men and women that natural happenings are\nindependent of divine control to at least the extent that natural forces\naffect all alike, and without the least reference to religious beliefs.\nFire burns and water drowns, foods sustain and poisons kill, no matter\nwhat our opinions on theology may be. In an earthquake or a war there is\nno observable relation between casualties and religious opinions. We\nare, in fact, told by theologians that it is folly to expect that there\nshould be. A particular providence is no longer in fashion; God, we are\ntold, works only through general laws, and that is only another way of\nsaying that our opinions about God have no direct or observable\ninfluence on our well-being. It is a tacit admission that human welfare\ndepends upon our knowledge and manipulation of the forces by which we\nare surrounded. There _may_ be a God behind these forces, but that\nneither determines the extent of our knowledge of them or our power to\nmanipulate them. The belief in God becomes a matter of, at best,\nsecondary importance, and quite probably of no importance whatever.\n\nBut if that be so why bother about the belief? Is that not a reason for\nleaving it alone and turning our attention to other matters? The answer\nto that is that the belief in God is not of so detached a character as\nthis advice assumes. In the course of ages the belief in God has\nacquired associations that give it the character of a highly obstructive\nforce. It has become so entangled with inculcated notions of right and\nwrong that it is everywhere used as a buttress for institutions which\nhave either outgrown their utility, or are in need of serious\nmodification in the interests of the race. The opposition encountered in\nany attempt to deal with marriage, divorce, or education, are examples\nof the way in which religious ideas are permitted to interfere with\nsubjects that should be treated solely from the standpoint of social\nutility. The course of human development has been such that religion has\nhitherto occupied a commanding position in relation to social laws and\ncustoms, with the result that it is often found difficult to improve\neither until the obstructive influence of religious beliefs has been\ndealt with.\n\nIt is not, then, because I believe the question of the existence of God\nto be of intrinsic importance that an examination of its validity is\nhere undertaken. Its importance to-day is of a purely contingent\ncharacter. The valid ground for now discussing its truth is that it is\nat present allowed to obstruct the practical conduct of life. And under\nsimilar circumstances it would be important to investigate the\nhistorical accuracy of Old Mother Hubbard or Jack and the Beanstalk. Any\nbelief, no matter what its nature, must be dealt with as a fact of some\nsocial importance, so long as it is believed by large numbers to be\nessential to the right ordering of life. Whether true or false, beliefs\nare facts--mental and social facts, and the scheme of things which\nleaves them out of account is making a blunder of the most serious kind.\n\nCertainly, conditions were never before so favourable for the delivery\nof a considered judgment on the question of the belief in God. On the\none side we have from natural science an account of the universe which\nrules the operations of deity out of court. And on the other side we\nhave a knowledge of the mode of origin of the belief which should leave\nus in no doubt as to its real value. We hope to show later that the\nquestion of origin is really decisive; that in reaching conclusions\nconcerning the origin of the god-idea we are passing judgment as to its\nvalue. That the masters of this form of investigation have not usually,\nand in so many words, pushed their researches to their logical\nconclusions is no reason why we should refrain from doing so. Facts are\nin themselves of no great value. It is the conclusions to which they\npoint that are the important things.\n\nIf the conclusions to which we refer are sound, then the whole basis of\ntheism crumbles away. If we are to regard the god-idea as an evolution\nwhich began in misunderstandings of nature that were rooted in the\nignorance of primitive man, it would seem clear that no matter how\nrefined or developed the idea may become, it can rest on no other or\nsounder basis than that which is presented to us in the psychology of\nprimitive man. Each stage of theistic belief grows out of the preceding\nstage, and if it can be shown that the beginning of this evolution arose\nin a huge blunder I quite fail to see how any subsequent development can\nconvert this unmistakable blunder into a demonstrable truth. To take a\ncase in point. When it was shown that so far as witchcraft rested on\nobserved facts these could be explained on grounds other than those of\nthe malevolent activities of certain old women, the belief in witchcraft\nwas not \"purified,\" neither did it advance to any so-called higher\nstage; it was simply abandoned as a useless and mischievous explanation\nof facts that could be otherwise accounted for. Are we logically\njustified in dealing with the belief in God on any other principle? We\ncannot logically discard the world of the savage and still retain his\ninterpretation of it. If the grounds upon which the savage constructed\nhis theory of the world, and from which grew all the ghosts and gods\nwith which he believed himself to be surrounded, if these grounds are\nfalse, how can we still keep in substance to conclusions that are\nadmittedly based on false premises? We can say with tolerable certainty\nthat had primitive man known what we know about nature the gods would\nnever have been born. Civilised man does not discover gods, he discards\nthem. It was a profound remark of Feurbach's, that religion is\nultimately anthropology, and it is anthropology that gives to all forms\nof theism the death blow.\n\nIn our own time, at least, it is not difficult to see that the word God\nretains its influence with many because of the indefinite manner in\nwhich it is used. It is never easy to say what a person has in his mind\nwhen he uses the word. In most cases one would be safe in saying that\nnothing at all is meant. It is just one of those \"blessed\" words where\nthe comfort felt in their use is proportionate to the lack of definite\nmeaning that accompanies them. A frank confession of ignorance is\nsomething that most people heartily dislike, and where problems are\npersistent and difficult of solution what most people are in search of\nis a narcotic. That \"God\" is one of the most popular of narcotics will\nbe denied by none who study the psychology of the average man or woman.\n\nWhen not used as a narcotic, \"God\" is brought into an argument as though\nit stood for a term which carried a well defined and well understood\nmeaning. In work after work dealing with theism one looks in vain for\nsome definition of \"God.\" All that one can do is to gather the author's\nmeaning from the course of his argument, and that is not always an easy\ntask. The truth is, of course, that instead of the word carrying with it\na generally understood meaning there is no word that is more loosely\nused or which carries a greater variety of meanings. Its connotations\nare endless, and range from the aggressively man-like deity of the\nprimitive savage up--or down--to the abstract force of the mathematical\nphysicist and the shadowy \"Absolute\" of the theologising metaphysician.\nThe consequence of this is to find commonly that while it is one kind of\na god that is being set up in argument, it is really another god that is\nbeing defended and even believed in. When we find people talking of\nentering into communion with God, or praying to God, it is quite certain\nthey do not conceive him as a mere mathematical abstraction, or as a\nmere symbol of an unknown force. It is impossible to conceive any sane\nman or woman extracting comfort from praying or talking to a god who\ncould not think, or feel, or hear. And if he possesses qualities that\nthe religious attitude implies, we endow him with all the attributes of\npersonality, and, be it noted, of human personality. Either one God is\nbelieved in in fact while another is established in theory, or an\nelaborate argument is presented which serves no other purpose than a\ndisguise for the fact that there is no genuine belief left.\n\nAn example of the misleading way in which words are used is supplied by\nSir Oliver Lodge, who for a man of science shows an amazing capacity for\nmaking use of unscientific language. In his \"Man and the Universe,\"\ndiscussing the attributes of deity, he says, \"Let no worthy attribute be\ndenied to the deity. In anthropomorphism there are many errors, but\nthere is one truth. Whatever worthy attributes belong to man, be it\npersonality or any other, its existence in the universe is thereby\nadmitted; it belongs to the all.\" Putting on one side the fallacy\ninvolved in speaking of attributes as though they were good or bad in\nthemselves, one wonders why Sir Oliver limits this inference to the\n\"worthy\" attributes? Unworthy attributes are as real as worthy ones. If\nhonesty exists so does dishonesty. Kindness is as real as cruelty. And\nif we must credit the deity with possessing all the good attributes, to\nwhom must we credit the bad ones? A little later Sir Oliver does admit\nthat we must credit the deity with the bad attributes also, but adds\nthat they are dying out. But as they are _part_ of the deity, their\ndecay must mean that the deity is also undergoing a process of change,\nof education, and is as much subject to the law of growth as we are.\nSurely that is not what people mean when they speak about God. A god who\nis only a part of the cosmic process ceases to be a god in any\nreasonable sense of the term.\n\nProfessor Mellone, in his \"God and the World,\" says that the word God\n\"becomes a name for the infinite system of law regarded as a whole\" (p.\n122). If that were really all that was meant by the word the matter\nwould not be worth discussing. \"God\" as a symbol of a generalisation is\na mere name, and as such is as good as any other name. But, again, it is\nplain that people mean more than that when they speak about God. If God\nis a name for universal law, let any really religious man try the plan\nof substituting in his prayers and in his thoughts the phrase \"Universal\nLaw\" for \"God,\" and then see how long he will retain his religion. As\nMr. Balfour points out (\"Theism and Humanism,\" p. 20), the god of\nreligion and the god of philosophy represent two distinct beings, and it\nis hard to see how the two can be fused into one. The plain truth is\nthat it is impossible to now make the existence of the god of religion\nreasonable, and the plan adopted is that of arguing for the existence of\nsomething about which there is often no dispute, and then introducing as\nthe product of the argument something that has never been argued for at\nall. It is the philosophic analogue of the hat and omelette trick.\n\nIn this connection some well considered words of Sir James Frazer are\nwell worth noting. He says:--\n\n\n     By a god I understand a superhuman and supernatural being, of a\n     spiritual and personal nature, who controls the world or some part\n     of it on the whole for good, and who is endowed with intellectual\n     faculties, moral feelings, and active powers, which we can only\n     conceive on the analogy of human faculties, feelings, and\n     activities, though we are bound to suppose that in the divine\n     nature they exist in an infinitely higher degree, than the\n     corresponding faculties, feelings, and activities of man. In short,\n     by a God I mean a beneficent supernatural spirit, the ruler of the\n     world or of some part of it, who resembles man in nature though he\n     excels him in knowledge, goodness, and power. This is, I think, the\n     sense in which the ordinary man speaks of a God, and I believe that\n     he is right in so doing. I am aware that it has been not unusual,\n     especially of late years, to apply the name of God to very\n     different conceptions, to empty it of all implications of\n     personality, and to reduce it to signifying something very large\n     and very vague, such as the Infinite or the Absolute (whatever\n     these hard words may signify) the great First Cause, the Universal\n     Substance, the stream of tendency by which all things seek to\n     fulfil the law of their being, and so forth. Now, without\n     expressing opinion as to the truth or falsehood of the views\n     implied by such applications of the name of God, I cannot but\n     regard them as illegitimate extensions of the term, in short, an\n     abuse of language, and I venture to protest against it in the\n     interest, not only of verbal accuracy, but of clear thinking,\n     because it is apt to conceal from ourselves and others a real and\n     very important change of thought; in particular it may lead many to\n     imagine that the persons who use the name of God in one or other of\n     these extended senses retain theological opinions which they may in\n     fact have long abandoned. Thus the misuse of the name of God may\n     resemble the stratagem in war of putting up dummies to make an\n     enemy imagine that a fort is still held long after it has been\n     abandoned by the garrison. (_The Belief in Immortality_; pp. 9-10.\n     Vol. I.).\n\n\nThis expression of opinion from an authoritative quarter is very much\nneeded. The fear of public opinion displayed by many \"advanced\" thinkers\nis in this country one of the greatest obstacles to rapid advance. It is\nsimply deplorable to observe the trouble taken by some to coin new\nnames, or the illegitimate use made of old ones, for no other\ndiscoverable reason than that of disguising from the world the fact that\nthe orthodox beliefs are no longer held. The need of to-day is not so\nmuch liberal thought as strong and courageous thought; and one would\ncheerfully hand back to orthodoxy a fairly large parcel of a certain\ntype of heretical thinker in exchange for a single one who used plain\nlanguage to express clear convictions.\n\nWhat is it that the mass of believers have in their minds when they\nspeak of God? There can be no doubt but that what the plain man has\nalways understood by \"God\" is a person. Every book of religious devotion\nimplies this; every prayer that is offered takes it for granted that\n_someone_ will listen, and probably grant the petition. God is personal,\nGod is just, God is beneficent, God is intelligent, these are\nconceptions that are bound up with all the religions of the world, and\nwithout which they would lack both significance and value. A very acute\ntheistic writer, Mr. W. H. Mallock, puts this quite plainly when he says\nthat the God of theism \"is represented as revealing himself in the\nuniverse, firstly, as the mind which animates and moves everything,\nsecondly, as a purposing mind which is infinitely wise and powerful, and\nhas created a perfect universe with a view to some perfect end; and\nlastly, as an ethical mind which out of all the things created by it,\nhas selected men as the object of a preferential love. A personality\nwhich thinks and wills and loves and hates. That is what mankind in the\nmass have always meant by 'God.'\"\n\nIndeed, any other kind of God is inconceivable. Whatever may be the\nmetaphysical subtleties employed, we come ultimately to that. It is\nthis, the older and the vital conception that is being fought for. The\narguments for any other kind of existence are mere subterfuges. The\npleas for an \"Absolute\" or an \"Unconditioned\" are only used to buttress\nthe older conception, and never till the older one has lost its force.\nThe unconditioned God is argued for only that it may serve as the basis\nfor the belief in a personal one. What is proved is not what is asked\nfor; what is asked for is not what is proved. No wonder that so eminent\na writer as Mr. F. H. Bradley feels constrained to give these\nverbalistic thimble riggers a smart rap over the knuckles, as in the\nfollowing passage:--\n\n\n     Most of those who insist on the \"personality of God\" are\n     intellectually dishonest. They desire one conclusion, and, to reach\n     it, they argue for another. But the second, if proved, is quite\n     different, and answers their purpose only because they obscure it\n     and confound it with the first.... The deity they want, is, of\n     course, finite, a person much like themselves, with thoughts and\n     feelings limited and mutable in the process of time.... And for\n     their purpose, what is not this is really nothing. (_Appearance and\n     Reality_; p. 532).\n\n\nAnd it is really what people mean by God that is decisive. It is not at\nall a question of what they might be made to mean, or what they ought to\nmean. It is wholly a matter of what they _do_ mean. And to say that what\npeople intend to affirm in an expression of belief is not true, is to\nsay that the belief itself is false. If the God I believe in is a\ndelusion, then my God ceases to exist. True, I may if I think it worth\nwhile acquire another one, but that will not revive the first. It is\nwhat people believe that is the important question, not what some\ningenious speculator may succeed in making the belief stand for.\n\nHonestly to be of service to theism the God established must be a\nperson. To be intelligible, having regard to the historical developments\nof religion, the God proved must be a person. The relation demanded by\nreligion between man and God must be of a personal character. No man can\nlove a pure abstraction; he might as reasonably fall in love with a\ntriangle or profess devotion to the equator. The God of religion must be\na person, and it is precisely that, as a controlling force of the\nuniverse, in which modern thought finds it more and more difficult to\nbelieve, and which modern science decisively rejects. And in rejecting\nthis the death blow is given to those religious ideas, which however\ndisguised find their origin in the fear-stricken ignorance of the\nprimitive savage.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nTHE ORIGIN OF THE IDEA OF GOD.\n\n\nThe alleged universality of the belief in God is only inferentially an\nargument for its truth. The inference is that if men have everywhere\ndeveloped a particular belief, this general agreement could only have\nbeen reached as a consequence of a general experience. A universal\neffect implies a universal cause. So put the argument seems impressive.\nAs a matter of fact the statement is one long tissue of fallacies and\nunwarranted assumptions.\n\nIn the first place, even admitting the universal pressure of certain\nfacts, it by no means follows that the theistic interpretation of those\nfacts is the only one admissible. There is no exception to the fact that\nmen have everywhere come to the conclusion that the earth was flat, and\nyet a wider and truer knowledge proved that universal belief to be quite\nfalse. The fact of a certain belief being universal only warrants the\nassumption that the belief itself has a cause, but it tells us nothing\nwhatever concerning its truthfulness. The truth here is that the\nargument from universality dates its origin from a stage of human\nculture suitable to the god idea itself, a stage when very little was\nknown concerning the workings of the mind or the laws of mental\ndevelopment. Otherwise it would have been seen that all the universality\nof a belief really proves is the universality of the human mind--and\nthat means that, given an organism of a certain kind, it will react in\nsubstantially an identical manner to the same stimuli. Thus it is not\nsurprising to find that as the human organism is everywhere\nfundamentally alike, it has everywhere come to the same conclusions in\nface of the same set of conditions. A man reacts to the universe in one\nway, and a jelly fish in another way. And universality is as true of the\nreactions of the latter as it is of those of the former.\n\nAnd this means that a delusion may be as widespread as truth, a false\ninference may gain as general an acceptance as a true one. What belief\nhas been more general than the belief in witches, fairies, and the like?\nBut we see in the prevalence of these and similar beliefs, not a\npresumption of their truth, but only the grounds for a search after the\nconditions, social and psychological, which gave them birth.\n\nThe truth is that the conditions which give rise to the belief in gods\nare found in all ages, and no one would be more surprised than the\nAtheist to find it otherwise. But here, precisely as in the case of good\nand bad spirits, the vital question is not that people have everywhere\nbelieved in the existence of supernatural beings,[1] but an\nunderstanding of the conditions from which the beliefs themselves have\ngrown. That alone can determine whether in studying the god idea we are\nstudying the acquisition of a truth or the growth of a fallacy.\n\nNext, while it may be granted, at least provisionally, that the belief\nin supernatural beings is universal, against that has to be set the fact\nthat the whole tendency of social development is to narrow the range of\nthe belief, to restrict the scope of its authority, and to so attenuate\nit that it becomes of no value precisely where it is supposed to be of\nmost use. The belief in God is least questioned where civilisation is\nlowest; it is called into the most serious question where civilisation\nis most advanced. To-day the belief in God is only universal in the\nsense that some representatives of it are to be found in all societies.\nThe majority may still profess to have it, but it has ceased to be\nuniversal in the strict sense of the term. Nor will it be disputed that\nthe number of convinced disbelievers is everywhere on the increase. The\nfact is everywhere lamented by the official exponents of religion. All\nthat we can say is that the belief in God is universal--with those who\nbelieve in him. And even here universality of belief is only secured by\ntheir refraining from discussing precisely what it is they mean by\n\"God,\" and what it is they believe in. There is agreement in obscurity,\neach one dreading to see clearly the features of his assumed friend for\nfear he should recognise the face of an enemy.\n\nFinally, the suspicious feature must be pointed out that the belief in\nGod owes its existence, not to the trained and educated observation of\ncivilised times, but to the uncritical reflection of the primitive mind.\nIt has its origin there, and it would indeed be remarkable if, while in\nalmost every other direction the primitive mind showed itself to be\nhopelessly wrong, in its interpretation of the world in this particular\nrespect it has proved itself to be altogether right. As a matter of\nfact, this primitive assumption is going the way of the others, the only\ndifference being that it is passing through more phases than some. But\nthe decay is plain to all save those who refuse to see. The process of\nrefinement cannot go on for ever. In other matters knowledge passes from\na nebulous and indefinite stage to a precise and definite one. In the\ncase of theism it pursues an opposite course. From the very definite\ngod, or gods, of primitive mankind we advance to the vague and\nindefinite god of the modern theist--a God who, apparently, means\nnothing and does nothing, and at most stands as a symbol for our\nirremovable ignorance. Clearly this process cannot go on for ever. The\nwork of attenuation must stop at some point. And one may safely predict\nthat just as the advance of scientific knowledge has taken over one\ndepartment after another that was formerly regarded as within the\nprovince of religion, so one day it will be borne in upon all that an\nhypothesis such as that of theism, which does nothing and explains\nnothing, may be profitably dispensed with.\n\nWhat really remains for discussion is a problem of socio-psychology.\nThat is, we have to determine the conditions of origin of so widespread\na belief, but which we believe to be false. The materials for answering\nthis question are now at our command, and whatever differences of\nopinion there may be concerning the stages of development, there is\nvery little concerning their essential character. And it is not without\nsignificance that this question of origin is one that the present-day\napologists of theism seem pretty unanimous in leaving severely alone.\n\nLet us commence with the fact that religion is something that is\nacquired. Every work on the origin of religion assumes it, and all\ninvestigation warrants the assumption. The question at issue is the mode\nof acquisition. And here one word of caution is advisable. The wide\nrange of religious ideas and their existence at a very low culture\nstage, precludes the assumption that religious ideas are generated in\nthe same conscious way as are scientific theories. Even with the modern\nmind our conclusions concerning many of the affairs of life are formed\nin a semi-conscious manner. Most frequently they are generated\nsubconsciously, and are only consciously formulated under pressure of\ncircumstances. And if we are to understand religion aright we must be on\nour guard against attributing to primitive mankind a degree of\nscientific curiosity and reflective power to which it can lay no claim.\nWe have to allow for what one writer well calls \"physiological thought,\"\nthought, that is, which rises subconsciously and has its origin in the\npressure of insistent experience.\n\nA comprehensive survey of religious beliefs show that there are only two\nthings that can be said to be common to them all. They differ in\nteachings, in their conceptions of deity, and in modes of worship. But\nall religions agree in believing in some kind of ghostly existence and\nin a continued life beyond the grave. I use the expression, \"ghostly\nexistence,\" because we can really trace the idea of God backward until\nwe lose the definite figure in a very general conception, much as\nastronomers have taught us to lose a definite world in the primitive\nfire-mist. So when we get beyond the culture stage at which we meet with\nthe definite man-like God, we encounter an indefinite thought stage at\nwhich we can dimly mark the existence of a frame of mind that was to\ngive birth to the more concrete conception.\n\nThe most general term for the belief in the various orders of gods thus\nbecomes the belief in invisible, super-material beings, like, and yet\nsuperior to man. It is for this reason that Professor Tylor's definition\nof religion as \"the belief in spiritual beings--so long as we do not use\nthe term \"spiritual\" in its modern sense\"--seems to me the moat\nsatisfactory definition yet offered. It is the one point on which all\nreligions agree, and for this reason may be regarded as their essential\nfeature.\n\nThis taken for granted, our next point of enquiry is, What was there in\nthe conditions of primitive life that would give rise to a belief in\nthis super-material, or in modern language, spiritual existence? Now\nthere are at least two sets of experiences that seem adequate to the\nrequired explanation. The one is normal, the other abnormal. The first\nis connected directly with the universal experience of dreams. The\nsavage is, as Tylor says, a severely practical person. He believes what\nhe sees and, one may add, he sees what he believes. Knowing nothing of\nthe distinction we draw between a fact and an illusion, ignorant of the\nfunctions, or even the existence of a nervous system, the dreams of a\nsavage are to him as real as his waking experiences. He does not say \"I\ndreamed I saw So-So,\" but like the Biblical characters he says, \"I saw\nSo-So in a dream.\" The two forms of expression carry all the difference\nbetween fact and fancy. One thing is therefore obvious to the savage\nmind--something escapes from the body, travels about, and returns. Such\na conviction does not represent the conclusions of a genius speculating\nupon the meaning of unexplained facts. It is a conviction steadily built\nup by the pressure of unvarying experience, as steadily as is the\nconviction that fire burns or that water is wet. The very universality\nof the belief is proof that it had some such sub-conscious origin.\n\nA second class of experiences lead to the same conclusion. In temporary\nloss of consciousness the savage again sees proof of the existence of a\ndouble. With epilepsy or insanity there is offered decisive proof that\nsome spirit has taken possession of the individual's body. Even in\ncivilised countries this belief was widely held hardly more than a\ncentury ago. And both these classes of experience are enforced by the\nbelief that the shadow of a man, an echo, a reflection seen in water,\netc., are all real things. The proofs that the belief in a \"soul\" does\noriginate in this way are now so plentiful that exact references are\nneedless. Examination of primitive religious beliefs all over the world\nyield the one result, without there being any evidence to the contrary.\n\nPrimitive philosophy does not stop here. Man dreams of things as well as\nof persons, and a general extension of the belief in a ghost or double\nis made until it covers almost everything. As Tylor says, \"the doctrine\nof souls is worked out with remarkable breadth and consistency. The\nsouls of animals are recognised by a natural extension from the theory\nof human souls; the souls of trees and plants follow in some vague\npartial way; and the souls of inanimate objects expand the category to\nthe extremest boundary.\" The reasoning of the primitive mind is thus,\ngiven its limitations and unsound premises, uncompromisingly logical.\nOne can trace the processes of reasoning more easily than is the case\nwith modern man because it is less disturbed by cross-currents of\nacquired knowledge and conflicting interests.\n\nI am giving but the barest outline of a vast subject because I am\ndesirous of keeping the attention of the reader on what I believe to be\nthe main issue. For that reason I am not discussing whether animism--the\nvitalising of inanimate objects--has an independent origin, or whether\nit is a mere extension of the ghost theory. Either theory does not\naffect my main position, which is that the idea of God is derived from\nthe ignorance of primitive humanity, and has no other authority than a\nmisunderstanding of natural facts. On that point the agreement among all\nschools of anthropologists is now very general. Personally, however, I\ndo not believe that men would ever have given a soul to trees or other\nnatural objects unless they had first given them to living beings, and\nhad thus familiarised themselves with the conception of a double.\n\nAt present, though, we are on the track of the gods. The belief that\nevery human being, and nearly every object, possesses a soul, ends in\nsurrounding man with a cloud of spirits against which he has to be\nalways on his guard. The general situation is well put by Miss Kingsley,\nwho gives a picture of the West African that may well stand for the\nsavage world in general.\n\n\n     Everything happens by the action of spirits. The thing he does\n     himself is done by the spirit within acting on his body, the matter\n     with which that spirit is associated. Everything that is done by\n     other things is done by their spirit associated with their\n     particular mass of matter.... The native will point out to you a\n     lightning stricken tree and tell you its spirit has been killed. He\n     will tell you, when the earthen cooking pot is broken, it has lost\n     its spirit. If his weapon failed him, it is because he has stolen\n     or made its spirit sick by means of his influence on other spirits\n     of the same class.... In every action of his life he shows you how\n     he lives with a great, powerful spirit world around him. You see\n     him before running out to hunt or fight rubbing stuff in his weapon\n     to strengthen the spirit that is in it; telling it the while what\n     care he has taken of it; running through a list of what he had\n     given it before, though these things had been hard to give; and\n     begging it, in the hour of his dire necessity, not to fail him....\n     You see him bending over the face of the river, talking to its\n     spirit with proper incantations, asking it when it meets an enemy\n     to upset his canoe and destroy him ... or, as I have myself seen in\n     Congo Francaise, to take down with it, away from his village, the\n     pestilence of the spotted death. (_West African Studies_; pp.\n     394-5).\n\n\nWhen Feurbach said that the \"realm of memory was the world of souls,\" he\nexpressed a profound truth in a striking manner. It is dreams, swoons,\ncatalepsy, with their allied states which suggest the existence of a\ndouble or ghost. Even in the absence of the mass of evidence from all\nquarters in support of this, the fact of the ghost always being pictured\nas identical in clothing and figure with the dead man would be almost\nenough to demonstrate its dream origin. Into that aspect of the matter,\nhowever, we do not now intend to enter. We are now only concerned with\nthe bearing of the ghost theory on the origin of God. Another step or\ntwo and we shall have reached that point. Believing himself surrounded\non all sides by a world of ghosts the great concern of the savage is to\nescape their ill-will or to secure their favour. Affection and\nfear--fear that the ghost, if his wants are neglected, will wreak\nvengeance through the agency of disease, famine, or accident--leads\ninsensibly to the ghosts of one's relations becoming objects of\nveneration, propitiation, and petition. All ghosts receive some\nattention for a certain time after death, but naturally special and\nsustained honours are reserved for the heads of families,[2] and for\nsuch as have been distinguished for various qualities during life. In\nthis way ancestor worship becomes one of the most general forms of\nreligious observances, and the gradual development of the great man or\nthe deceased ancestor into a deity follows by easy stages. The\nprinciples of ancestor worship, to again cite the indispensible Tylor,\nare not difficult to understand:--\n\n\n     They plainly keep up the social relations of the living world. The\n     dead ancestor, now passed into a deity, simply goes on protecting:\n     his own family and receiving suit and service from them as of old;\n     the dead chief still watches over his own tribe, still holds his\n     authority by helping friends and harming enemies, still rewards the\n     right and sharply punishes the wrong.\n\n\nThat this deification of ancestors and of dead men actually takes place\nis indisputable. The Mythologies of Greece and Rome offer numerous\nexamples, and the deification of the Roman Emperors became the regular\nrule. Numerous examples to the same end are supplied from India by Mr.\nW. Crookes and Sir A. C. Lyall. That this way of honouring the dead is\nnot limited to natives is shown by the famous case of General Nicholson,\nwho actually received the honour of deification during his lifetime.\nAnyone who cares to consult those storehouses of information, Spencer's\n\"Principles of Sociology\" (Vol. I.), Tylor's \"Primitive Culture,\" and\nFrazer's \"Golden Bough\" will find the whole god-making process set forth\nwith a wealth of illustration that can hardly fail to carry conviction.\nFinally, in the case of Japan and China we have living examples of an\norganised system of religion based upon the deification of ancestors.[3]\n\nIt will make it easier to understand the evolution of the god from the\nghost if we bear in mind that with primitive man the gods are conceived\nneither as independent existences nor as creators. Even immortality is\nnot asserted of them. The modern notions of deity, largely due to the\nattempt to accommodate the idea of god to certain metaphysical and\nphilosophical conceptions, are so intermingled with the primitive idea,\nthat there is always the danger of reading into the primitive\nintelligence more than was ever there. The consequence is that by\nconfusing the two senses of the word many find it difficult to realise\nhow one has grown out of the other. Such ideas as those of creation and\nindependence are quite foreign to the primitive mind. Savages are like\nchildren in this respect; their interest in things is primarily of a\npractical character. A child does not begin by asking how a thing came\nto be; it asks what it is for or what it does. So the prime concern of\nthe savage is, what are certain things for? what will they do? are they\ninjurious or beneficial? It is because of this practical turn of mind\nthat so much attention is paid to the ghost, having once accepted its\nexistence as a fact. The superiority of the gods do not consist in their\nsubstantial difference from himself, but in the greater power for good\nor evil conferred upon them by their invisible existence. Creation is a\nconception that does not arise until the capacity for philosophical\nspeculation has developed. Then reflection sets to work; the nature of\nthe god undergoes modification, and the long process of accommodating\nprimitive religious beliefs to later knowledge commences, the end of\nwhich we have not yet seen.\n\nThe process of reading modern speculations into the religion of the\nsavage leads to some curious results, one of which we cannot forbear\nmentioning. In his little work on \"Animism\" Mr. Edward Clodd, after\ntracing the fundamental ideas of religion to primitive delusion, says:--\n\n\n     Herein (_i.e._, in dream and visions) are to be found the sufficing\n     materials for a belief in an entity in the body, but not of it,\n     which can depart and return at will, and which man everywhere has\n     more or less vaguely envisaged as his \"double\" or \"other self.\"...\n     The distinction between soul and body, which explained to man his\n     own actions, was the key to the actions of animate and inanimate\n     things. A personal life and will controlled them. This was\n     obviously brought home to him more forcibly in the actions of\n     living things, since these so closely resembled his own that he saw\n     no difference between themselves and him. _Not in this matter alone\n     have the intuitions of the savage found their confirmation in the\n     discoveries of modern science_.... Ignorant of the reflection of\n     sound, how else could he account for the echoes flung back from the\n     hillside? Ignorant of the law of the interruption of light, how\n     else could he explain the advancing and retreating shadows? _In\n     some sense they must be alive; an inference supported by modern\n     science._\n\n\nThe italics in the above passages are mine, and they serve to illustrate\nhow certain writers manage to introduce quite misleading conceptions to\ntheir readers. It almost causes one to cease wondering at the\npersistence of religion when one finds a writer accepting the results of\nanthropological research, and at the same time claiming that savage\n\"intuitions\" are confirmed by modern science. If that be true, then all\nthat Mr. Clodd has previously written must be dismissed as untrue. The\nstatement is, however, quite inaccurate. The inference drawn by the\nsavage is not supported by modern science. Neither on the existence of a\nsoul nor on the existence of a god, nor on the nature of disease, nor on\nthe causes of physical or psychical states has science confirmed the\n\"intuitions\" (whatever that conveniently cloudy word may mean) of the\nprimitive savage. The acquisition of correct views would indeed be an\neasy thing if they could be gained by the \"intuitions\" of an untaught\nsavage.\n\nThe assertion that \"in some sense\" natural forces must be alive (as\nthough there can be any real sense in a term except the right sense),\nand that this inference is \"supported by modern physics,\" is an\nillustration of that playing with words which is fatal to exact thought.\nThe only sense in which the expression is used in physics is that of\n\"active,\" and both \"active\" and \"alive\" owe their vogue to the necessity\nfor controverting the older view that natural forces are \"inert\" or\n\"dead\" and need some external force to produce anything. It is a mere\nfigure of speech; the evil is when it is taken and used as an exact\nexpression of scientific fact. Let a reader of Mr. Clodd ask himself\nwhether the life he thinks of when he speaks of forces being alive is\nanimal life, and he will at once see the absurdity of the statement. And\nif he does not mean animal life, what life does he mean?\n\nPutting on one side all such attempts at accommodation, we may safely\nsay that given the origin of religion in the manner indicated, one may\ntrace--at least in outline--the development of religion from the\nprimitive ghost worship up to the rituals and beliefs of current creeds.\nI do not mean by this that _all_ religious beliefs and practices spring\ndirectly from ghost worship. Once religion is established, and the\nmyth-making capacity let loose, additions are made that are due to all\nsorts of causes. The Romans and Greeks, for example, seem to have\ncreated a number of deities out of pure abstractions--gods of peace, of\nwar, of fortune, and so forth. Why particular deities were invented, and\nhow they became attached to particular groups of phenomena, are\nquestions that it is often impossible to answer with any great degree of\ncertainty, but why there should be any gods at all is a question that\ncan be answered, I think, on the lines above indicated.\n\nThe way in which the primitive ghost worship probably paved the way for\nsome of the doctrines of the \"higher\" religions may be seen on taking a\nstory such as the death and resurrection of the Gospel Jesus. In his\ntreatise on \"The Attis\" Mr. Grant Allen made the ingenious suggestion\nthat the greater fertility of the ground on and near the grave, owing to\nthe food placed there to feed the ghost, would produce in the savage\nmind the conviction that this increased fertility was due to the\nbeneficent activity of the double of the dead man. Reasoning from this\nbasis, it would be a simple conclusion that the production, or lack, of\ncrops was everywhere due to the action of good or evil spirits. In the\nnext place, it must be remembered that it is the act of dying which\nraises the human being to the level of a guardian spirit or god; and\nfrom this to the production of a god by ceremonial killing would be a\nnatural and an easy step. In this last respect, at least, we are upon\nthe firm ground of fact, and not on that of mere theory. If a reader\nwill take the trouble to peruse the numerous examples collected by Tylor\nin the first chapter of his \"Primitive Culture,\" and those provided by\nFrazer in the \"Golden Bough,\" he will find the evidence for this\noverwhelming. Examples of the practice of killing a human being and\nburying his body under the foundations of a castle or a bridge are very\ncommon, and the modern custom of burying coins under a foundation-stone\nis a harmless and interesting survival of this custom. In some parts of\nAfrica a boy and girl are buried where a village is to be established.\nIn Polynesia the central pillar of a temple was placed on the body of a\nhuman victim. In Scotland there is the legend that St. Columba buried\nthe body of St. Oran under his monastery to make the building secure.\nAny country will supply stories of a similar kind. Finally, we have the\namusing story of the manner in which Sir Richard Burton narrowly escaped\ndeification. Exploring in Afghanistan in the disguise of a Mohammedan\nfakir, he received a friendly hint that he would do well to get off\nwithout delay. He expressed surprise, as the people seemed very fond of\nhim. That, it was explained, was the cause of the trouble. They thought\nso much of him they intended to kill him, and thus retain so excellent a\nman with them for ever.\n\nWhen Tylor wrote, the prevalent impression was that this killing of\nhuman beings was due to a desire to appease the spirits of the place.\nLater investigation showed that instead of a sacrifice it was a\ncreation. The purpose was to create a local god who would watch over the\nbuilding or settlement. God-making was thus shown to be a universal\npractice.\n\nOur next step must be taken in the company of Sir James Frazer. On\nall-fours with the practice of creating a guardian deity for a building\nis that of making a similar guardian for crops and vegetation. The\ndetails of this practice are interesting, but they need not now detain\nus. It is enough that the practice existed, and, as Frazer shows, was an\nannual practice. Year by year the god was killed in order that the seed\nmight ripen and the harvest be secured. In some cases the body was cut\nup and pieces buried in the fields; in other cases it was burned and the\nashes scattered over the ground. Gradually the ritual becomes more\nelaborate, but the central idea remains intact that of a human being\nconverted into a god by being killed, a man sacrificed for the benefit\nof the tribe. In the light of these researches the New Testament story\nbecomes only a more recent version of a widespread savage superstition.\nThe time of the sacrifice, the symbolism, the practices all prove this.\nThe crucified Saviour, in honour of whom all the Christian cathedrals\nand churches of the world are built, is only another late survival of\nthe god-making practice of primitive savagery.\n\nThe gods are, then, ultimately deified ghosts. They are born of\nmisinterpreted subjective and objective experiences. This is among the\nsurest and most firmly established results of modern investigation. It\nmatters not what modifications later knowledge may demand; it will only\nmean a change of form, not of substance. On any scientific theory we are\nbound to explain the origin of the gods in terms of human error. And no\nsubsequent development can alter its character. We may trace the various\nstages of a universal delusion, but nothing can convert a delusion into\na reality. It is now universally recognised that the primitive notions\nof gods represent false conclusions from misunderstood facts. No one now\nbelieves that the visions seen during sleep are proofs of a wandering\ndouble. No one believes that it is necessary to supply the ghost of the\ndead with food, or with weapons, or with wives. We do not believe that\nthe wind, the stars, the waters are alive or are capable of being\ninfluenced by our petitions. All the phenomena upon which the god idea\nwas originally built are now known to be susceptible to a radically\ndifferent explanation. And if this is so, what other foundations have we\non which to build a belief in God? There is none. There is only one\nplausible reason for the belief in God, and that is the reason advanced\nby the savage. When we get beyond that we are not dealing with reasons\nfor holding the belief, but only with excuses for retaining it.\nUnfortunately, thousands are familiar with the excuses, and only a few\nwith the reasons. Were it otherwise a great deal of what follows need\nnever have been written.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] Both the words \"supernatural\" and \"God\" are here used somewhat\nloosely. In fact the conception of the supernatural arises gradually,\nand as a consequence of developing knowledge which, so to speak, splits\nthe universe into two. So also with the belief in God. There is clearly\nan earlier form in which there exists a kind of mental plasma from which\nthe more definite conception of God is subsequently formed. On this\ntopic the reader may consult \"The Threshold of Religion,\" by R. R.\nMarett, 1914.\n\n[2] For the importance of this in the history of religion see Fustel de\nCoulanges' \"The Ancient City.\"\n\n[3] The perpetuation of this earlier stage of religion in China and\nJapan appears to make the transition to Free-thought easier than in\ncountries where religion has under-gone a more advanced evolution. In\nboth the countries named, the better minds find it quite easy to treat\ntheir religion as merely the respect paid to ancestors, and thus divest\nit of the supernatural element. In Christian countries there is also the\nattempt to restate beliefs in terms of current morality and sociology,\nbut the transition is more difficult.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nHAVE WE A RELIGIOUS SENSE?\n\n\nIn all discussions of theism there is one point that is usually\noverlooked. This is that theism is in the nature of a hypothesis. And,\nlike every hypothesis, its value is proportionate to the extent to which\nit offers a satisfactory explanation of the facts with which it\nprofesses to deal. If it can offer no explanation its value is nil. If\nits explanation is only partial, its value will be determined by the\ndegree to which it can claim superiority over any other hypothesis that\nis before us. But every hypothesis implies two things. There is a group\nof things to be explained, and there is the hypothesis itself that is\noffered in explanation. In the harmony of the two, and in the\npossibility of verification, lies the only proof of truth that can be\noffered.\n\nIf this be granted it at once disposes of the plea that a conviction of\nthe existence of God springs from some special quality of the mind which\nenables man to arrive at a conclusion in a manner different from the way\nin which conclusions concerning other subjects are reached. Intuition as\na method of discovering truth is pure delusion. All that can be\nrationally meant by such a word as intuition is summarised experience.\nWhen we speak of knowing a thing \"intuitively,\" all that we can mean is\nthat, experience having furnished us with a sufficient guidance, we are\nable to reach a conclusion so rapidly that we cannot follow the steps of\nthe mental process involved. That this is so is seen in the fact that\nour intuitions always follow the line of our experience. A stockbroker\nmay \"intuitively\" foresee a rise or fall of the market, but his\nintuition will fail him when considering the possibilities of a chemical\ncomposition. To say that a man knows a thing by intuition is only one\nway of saying that he does not know how he knows it--that is, he is\nunable to trace the stages of his own mental operations. And in this\nsense intuition is universal. It belongs as much to the cooking of a\ndumpling as it does to the belief in deity.\n\nBut it is evident that when the theist talks of intuition, what he has\nin mind is something very different from this. He is thinking of some\nspecial quality of mind that operates independently of experience,\neither racial or individual. And this simply does not exist. In religion\nman is never putting into operation qualities of mind different from\nthose he employs in other directions. Whether we call a state of mind\nreligious or not is determined, not by the mental processes involved,\nbut by the object to which it is directed. Hatred and love, anger,\npleasure, awe, curiosity, reverence, even worship, are exactly the same\nwhether directed towards \"God\" or towards anything else. Human qualities\nare fundamentally identical, and may be expressed in relation to all\nsorts of objects.\n\nThe attempt to mark religion off from the rest of life, to be approached\nby special methods and in a special frame of mind, takes many forms, and\nit may be illustrated by the manner in which it is dealt with by\nProfessor Arthur Thomson. In a little work entitled \"An Introduction to\nScience,\" and specially intended for general consumption, he remarks,\nas a piece of advice to his readers:--\n\n\n     We would remind ourselves and our readers that the whole subject\n     should be treated with reverence and sympathy, for it is hardly\n     possible to exaggerate the august role of religion in human life.\n     Whatever be our views, we must recognise that just as the great\n     mathematicians and metaphysicians represent the aristocracy of the\n     human intellect, so the great religious geniuses represent the\n     aristocracy of human emotion. And in this connection it is probably\n     useful to bear in mind that in all discussions about religious\n     ideas or feelings we should ourselves be in an exalted mood, and\n     yet \"with a compelling sense of our own limitations,\" and of the\n     vastness and mysteriousness of the world.\n\n\nIf Professor Thomson had been writing on \"Frames of Mind Fatal to\nScientific Investigation\" he could hardly have chosen a better\nillustration of his thesis. One may safely say that anyone who started\nan examination of religion in this spirit, and maintained it throughout\nhis examination, would perform something little short of a miracle did\nhe reach a sound conclusion. A feeling of sympathy may pass, but why\n\"reverence\"? Reverence is a very complex state, but it certainly\nincludes respect and a certain measure of affection. And how is one to\nrationally have respect or affection for anything _before_ one has\nascertained that they are deserving of either? Is anyone who happens to\nbelieve that religion is _not_ worthy of reverence to be ruled out as\nbeing unfit to express an opinion? Clearly, on this rule, either we\ncompel a man to sacrifice his sense of self-respect before we will allow\nhim to be heard, or we pack the jury with persons who confess to have\nreached a decision before they have heard the evidence. It would almost\nseem from the expression that while examining religion we should be in\nan \"exalted mood\" that Professor Thomson has in view the last\ncontingency. For by an exalted mood we can only understand a religious\nmood--that is, we must believe in religion before we examine it,\notherwise our examination is profanity. Well, that is just the cry of\nthe priest in all ages. And while it is sound religion, there is no\nquestion of its being shocking science. Even the mere feeling of\nexaltation is not to be encouraged during a scientific investigation.\nOne can understand Kepler when he had discovered the true laws of\nplanetary motion, or Newton when he embraced in one magnificent\ngeneralisation the fall of a stone and the revolution of a planet,\nexperiencing a feeling of exaltation; but exaltation must follow, not\nprecede, the conclusion. At any rate, there are few scientific teachers\nwho would encourage such a feeling during investigation.\n\nLeaving for a moment the question of religious geniuses being the\naristocrats of human emotion, we may take the same writer's view of the\nlimitations of science, thus providing an opening for the intrusion of\nreligion. This is given in the form of a criticism of the following\nwell-known passage from Huxley:--\n\n\n     If the fundamental proposition of evolution is true, namely, that\n     the entire world, animate and inanimate, is the result of the\n     mutual interaction, according to definite laws, of forces possessed\n     by the molecules which made up the primitive nebulosity of the\n     universe; then it is no less certain that the present actual world\n     reposed potentially in the cosmic vapour, and that an intelligence,\n     if great enough, could from his knowledge of the properties of the\n     molecules of that vapour have predicted the state of the fauna in\n     Great Britain in 1888 with as much certitude as we say what will\n     happen to the vapour of our breath on a cold day in winter.\n\n\nNow, if the principle of evolution be accepted, the truth of Huxley's\nstatement appears to be self-evident. It may be that no intelligence\ncapable of making such a calculation will ever exist, but the abstract\npossibility remains. Professor Thomson calls it \"a very strong and\nconfident statement,\" which illustrates the need for philosophical\ncriticism. His criticism of Huxley's statement is based on two grounds.\nThese are: (1) \"No complete physico-chemical description has ever been\ngiven of any distinctively vital activity; and (2) the physical\ndescription of things cannot cover biological phenomena, nor can the\nbiological description cover mental and moral phenomena.\" There is, he\nsays,\n\n\n     The physical order of nature--the inorganic world--where mechanism\n     reigns supreme. (2) There is the vital order of nature--the world\n     of organisms--where mechanism proves insufficient. (3) There is the\n     physical order of nature--the world of mind--where mechanism is\n     irrelevant. Thus there are three fundamental sciences--Physics,\n     Biology, and Psychology--each with characteristic questions,\n     categories and formulae.\n\n\nNow, however earnestly Huxley's statement calls for criticism, it is\nclear to us that nothing useful in that direction is offered by Prof.\nThomson. It is quite plain that the abstract possibility of such a\ncalculation as that named by Huxley can never be ruled out by science,\nsince such a conception lies at the root of all scientific thinking.\nAfter all, want of knowledge only proves--want of knowledge; and Sir\nOliver Lodge would warn Prof. Thomson of the extreme danger of resting\nan argument on the ignorance of science at any particular time.[4]\n\nI note this statement of Professor Thomson's chiefly because it\nillustrates a very common method of dealing with the mechanistic or\nnon-theistic view of the universe. In this matter Professor Thomson may\nclaim the companionship of Sir Oliver Lodge, who says, \"Materialism is\nappropriate to the material world, not as a philosophy, but as a working\ncreed, as a proximate, an immediate formula for guiding research.\nEverything beyond that belongs to another region, and must be reached by\nother methods. To explain the psychical in terms of physics and\nchemistry is simply impossible.... The extreme school of biologists ...\nought to say, if they were consistent, there is nothing but physics and\nchemistry at work anywhere.\" With both these writers there is the common\nassumption that the mechanist assumes there is a physical and chemical\nexplanation of all phenomena. And the assumption is false. There is a\nstory of a well-known lecturer on physiology who commenced an address on\nthe stomach by remarking that that organ had been called this, that, and\nthe other, but the one thing he wished his students to bear in mind was\nthat it was a stomach. So the mechanist, while firmly believing that\nthere is an ascending unity in all natural phenomena, is never silly\nenough to deny that living things are alive, or that thinking beings\nthink.\n\nBut unless Professor Thomson does impute this to the mechanist, we quite\nfail to see the relevance his assertion that there are three\ndepartments, physics, biology, and psychology, each with its\ncharacteristic questions, categories, and formulae. Of course, there are,\nand equally, of course, physical laws will not cover biological facts;\nnor will biological laws cover psychological ones. This is not due to\nany occult cause, but to the simple fact that as each group of phenomena\nhas its characteristic features, each set of laws are framed to cover\nthe phenomena presented by that group. Otherwise there would be no need\nof these special laws. It is astonishing how paralysing is the effect of\nthe theistic obsession on the minds of even scientific men, since it\nleads them to ignore what is really a basic consideration in scientific\nmethod.\n\nPerhaps a word or two more on this topic is advisable. If it is\npermissible to arrange natural phenomena in a serial order, we may place\nthem in succession as physical, chemical, biological, and psychological.\nBut these names represent no more than descriptions of certain features\nthat are to the group common, otherwise the grouping would be useless\nand impossible. And it is part of the business of science to frame\n\"laws\"--descriptions--of phenomena such as will enable us to express\ntheir characteristic features in a brief formula. It is, therefore,\nquite true to say that you cannot express vital phenomena in terms of\nphysics or chemistry. And no materialist who took the trouble to\nunderstand materialism, instead of taking a statement of what it is from\nan anti-materialist, ever thought otherwise. _Each specific group of\nphenomena can only be covered by laws that belong to that group, and\nwhich were framed for that express purpose._ A psychological fact can no\nmore be expressed in terms of chemistry than a physical fact can be\nexpressed in terms of biology. These truths are as plain to the\nmechanist as they are to the vitalist. Mental life, the scientific\ncategories, are real to all; the only question at issue is that of their\norigin.\n\nTo explain is to make intelligible, and in that sense all scientific\nexplanation consists in the establishing of equivalents. When we say\nthat A, B, C are the factors of D, we have asserted D is the equivalent\nof A, B, C--plus, of course, all that results from the combination of\nthe factors. When we say that we have explained the formation of water\nby showing it to be the product of H.2.O. we have shown that whether we\nsay \"water\" or use the chemical formula we are making identical\nstatements. If we are working out a problem in dynamics we meet with\nexactly the same principle. We must prove that the resultant accounts\nfor all the forces in operation at the time. Now, all that the mechanist\nclaims is that it is extremely probable that one day the scientist will\nbe able to work out the exact physico-chemical conditions that are the\nequivalents of biological phenomena, and, in turn, the\nphysico-chemical-biological conditions that are the equivalents of\npsychological phenomena. Very considerable progress has already been\nmade in this direction, and, as Sir Oliver Lodge says, there are\nprobably very few scientific men who would deny the likelihood of this\nbeing done.\n\nBut this does not deny the existence of differences between these groups\nof phenomena; neither does it assert that we can describe the\ncharacteristic features of one group in terms that belong to another\ngroup. Once a group of phenomena, biological, or chemical is there, we\nmust have special formulae to describe them, otherwise there would be no\nneed for these divisions. It is admitted that the earth was at one time\ndestitute of life; it is also admitted that there are forms of life\ndestitute of those features which we call mind. And, whatever be their\nmode of origin, once introduced they must be dealt with in special\nterms. Psychological facts must be expressed in terms of psychology,\nbiological facts in terms of biology, and chemical facts in terms of\nchemistry. You may give the chemical and physical equivalent of a\nsunset. That is one aspect. You may also give the psychological\nexplanation of the emotion of man on beholding it. That is another\naspect. But you cannot express the psychological fact in terms of\nchemistry because it belongs to quite another category. A psychological\nfact, as such, is ultimate. So is a chemical or a biological fact. If by\nanalysis you reduce the psychological fact to its chemical and\nbiological equivalents, its character as a psychological fact is\ndestroyed. That is the product of the synthesis, and to seek in analysis\nfor what only exists in synthesis, is surely to altogether misunderstand\nthe spirit of scientific method. The curious thing is that a mere layman\nshould have to correct men of science on this matter.\n\nWe can now return to Prof. Thomson's attempt to claim for religion a\nspecial place in the sphere of emotion. He claims, in the passage\nalready cited, that \"as the great mathematicians and metaphysicians\nrepresent the aristocracy of human intellect so the great religious\ngeniuses represent the aristocracy of human emotion.\" There is nothing\nnew in this claim, neither is there any evidence of its truth.\nColeridge's dictum that the proper antithesis to religion is poetry is\nopen to serious objection, but there is more to be said for it than may\nbe said for the antithesis set up by Prof. Thomson. As a matter of fact,\nreligious geniuses have often pursued their work with as much attention\nto scientific precision as was possible, and have prided themselves that\nthey made no appeal to mere emotion. Justification by emotion has only\nbeen attempted when other means of securing conviction has failed. And\nthe appeal to emotion has become popular for very obvious reasons. It\nenables the ordinary theologian to feel a comfortable superiority over a\nSpencer or a Darwin. It enables mediocrities to enjoy the feeling of\nbeing wise without the trouble of acquiring wisdom. It enables inherited\nprejudices to rank as reasoned convictions. And, in addition, there is\nnothing that cannot be conveniently proved or disproved by such a\nmethod.\n\nIn whatever form the distinction is met with it harbours a fallacy.\nIntellectual activity is not and cannot be divorced from emotion. There\nare states of mind in which feeling predominates, and there are others\nin which reason predominates. But all intellectual states involve a\nfeeling element. The often-made remark that feeling and intellect are\nin conflict is true only in the sense that ultimately certain\nintellectual states, _plus_ their associated feelings, are in conflict\nwith other intellectual states plus _their_ associated feelings. To\nrealise this one need only consider the sheer pleasure that results from\nthe rapid sweep of the mind through a lengthy chain of reasoning, and\nthe positive pain that ensues when the terms of a proposition baffles\ncomprehension. The force of this is admitted by Prof. Thomson in the\nremark that man at the limit of his endeavour has fallen back on\nreligion. Quite so; that is the painful feelings evoked by an\nintellectual failure have thrown a certain type of mind back on\nreligion. In this they have acted like one who flies to a drug for\nrelief from a pain he lacks the courage to bear. They take a narcotic\nwhen, often enough, the real need is for a stimulant.\n\nIn sober truth religion is no more necessarily connected with the\nemotions than are other subjects of investigation. Those who have made\nthe pursuit of \"cold scientific truth\" their life's work have shown\nevery whit as much ardour and passion as those who have given their life\nto religion. The picture of man sacrificing himself in the cause of\nreligion is easily matched by a Vesalius haunting the charnel houses of\nEurope, and risking the most loathsome diseases in the interests of\nscientific research. The abiding passion for truth in a character such\nas that of Roger Bacon or Bruno easily matches the enthusiasm of the\nmissionary monk. The passion and the enthusiasm for science is less\nadvertised than the passion and the enthusiasm for religion, but it is\nquite as real, and certainly not less valuable. The state of mind of\nKepler on discovering the laws of planetary motion was hardly less\necstatic than that of a religious visionary describing his sense of\n\"spiritual\" communion. Only in the case of the scientist, it is emotion\nguided by reason, not reason checked and partly throttled by emotion.\n\nWhen, therefore, Matthew Arnold defined religion as morality touched\nwith emotion, he substituted a fallacy for a definition. Primarily\nreligion is as much a conviction as is the Copernican system of\nastronomy. It exists first as an idea; it only exists as an emotion at a\nlater stage. There is really no such thing as a religious emotion, there\nare only emotions connected with religion. Originally all religion is in\nthe nature of an inference from observed or experienced facts. This\ninference may not be of the elaborate kind that we associate with modern\nscientific work, but it is there. The inference is an illogical one, but\nunder the conditions inevitable. And being an inference religion is not\nprimarily an emotion but a conviction, and it must stand or fall by its\nintellectual trustworthiness. It seems, indeed, little less than a\ntruism to say that unless men first of all _believed_ something about\nreligion they could never have emotions concerning it. Hope and fear may\ncolour our convictions, they may prevent the formation of correct\nopinions, but they originate in connection with a belief in every case.\nAnd an emotion, if it be a healthful one, must be ultimately capable of\nintellectual justification. When this cannot be done, when we have mere\nemotion pleaded as a ground for rejecting rational examination, we have\nirrationalism driven to its last ditch.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[4] \"The present powerlessness of science to explain or originate life\nis a convenient weapon wherewith to fell a pseudo-scientific antagonist\nwho is dogmatising too loudly out of bounds; but it is not perfectly\nsecure as a permanent support.... Life in its ultimate elements and on\nits material side is such a simple thing, it is but a slight extension\nof known chemical and physical forces.... I apprehend that there is not\na biologist but believes (perhaps quite erroneously) that sooner or\nlater the discovery will be made, and that a cell discharging all the\nessential functions of life will be constructed out of inorganic\nmaterial.\" (\"Man and the Universe,\" Chap. I.).\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nTHE ARGUMENT FROM EXISTENCE.\n\n\nWhat, now, are the facts upon which the modern believer in deity\nprofesses to base his belief and what are the arguments used to defend\nthe position taken up?\n\nPremising that the reasons advanced for the belief in deity are more in\nthe nature of excuses than aught else, we may take first of all the\nargument derived from the mere existence of the universe, with the\nalleged impossibility of conceiving it as self-existent. Along with that\nthere may also be taken as a variant of the argument from existence, the\nalleged impossibility of a natural \"order\" that should result from the\ninherent properties of natural forces. Now it is at least plain that\nwhatever difficulty there is in thinking of the universe as either\nself-existing or self-adjusting is in no degree lessened by assuming a\nGod as the originator and sustainer of the whole. The most that it does\nis to move the difficulty back a step, and while with many \"out of sight\nout of mind\" is as true of their attitude towards mental problems as it\nis towards the more ordinary things of life, the policy can hardly be\ncommended in serious intellectual discussions. It is not a bit easier to\nthink of self-existence or self-direction in connection with a god than\nit is in connection with the universe. And if we must rest ultimately\nwith an insoluble difficulty, it is surely better to stop with the\nexistence we know rather than to introduce a second existence which for\nall we know may be quite mythical.\n\nIt is no reply to say that the idea of God involves self-existence. It\ndoes nothing of the kind, or at least it can do so only by our making\nyet another assumption that is as unjustifiable as the previous one. If\nGod is a personality, we have no conception of a personality that is\nself-existent. The only personality that we know is the human\npersonality, and that is certainly derived. Our whole knowledge of human\npersonality is that of something which is derived from pre-existing\npersonalities, each of which is a centre of derived influences. Of\npersonality as either the cause or the commencement of a series we have\nnot the slightest conception. And the man who says he has can never have\ncarefully examined the contents of his own mind.\n\nThe truth is that the fact of the existence of the universe provides no\nground for argument in favour of either Atheism or Theism. Existence is\na common datum for all. Some existence must be assumed in all argument\nsince all argument implies something that is to be discussed and\nexplained. And for that very reason we can offer no explanation of\nexistence itself, since all explanation means the merging of one class\nof facts in a larger class. The largest class of facts we have is that\nwhich is included in the term \"universe,\" and we cannot explain that by\nassuming another existence--God--about which we know nothing. To explain\nthe unknown by the known is an intelligible procedure. To explain the\nknown by the unknown is to forsake all intellectual sanity. Thus every\ndifficulty that surrounds the conception of the universe as an ultimate\nfact, surrounds the existence of God as an ultimate fact. You cannot get\nrid of a difficulty by giving it another name. And whether we call\nultimate existence \"God,\" or \"matter,\" or \"substance,\" is of no vital\nimportance to anyone who keeps his mind on the real issue that has to be\ndecided. If the question, What is the cause of existence? be a\nlegitimate one, it applies no less to the existence of God than it does\nto the existence of matter, or force, or substance. All that we gain is\nanother problem which we add to the problems we already possess. We\nincrease our burden without enlarging our comprehension. If, on the\nother hand, it is said that we need an all embracing formula that will\nmake our conception of the universe coherent, it may be replied that we\nhave that in such a conception as the persistence of force. And it is\nsurely better to keep to a formula that does at least work, than to\ndevise one that is altogether useless.\n\nThe inherent weakness of the theistic conception will be best seen by\ntaking an orthodox presentation of the argument under consideration. In\nhis well-known work on \"Theism,\" Professor Flint says \"that granting all\nthe atoms of matter to be eternal, grant that all the properties and\nforces, which with the smallest degree of plausibility can be claimed\nfor them to be eternal and indestructible, and it is still beyond\nexpression improbable that these atoms, with these forces, if\nunarranged, uncombined, unutilised by a presiding mind, would give rise\nto anything entitled to be called a universe. It is millions to one that\nthey would never produce the simplest of the regular arrangements which\nwe comprehend under the designation of course of nature.\" (_Theism_; pp.\n107-8.)\n\nNow this is an admirably clear and terse statement of an argument which\nis often presented in so verbose a manner that its real nature is, to a\nconsiderable extent, disguised. But in this case, clearness of statement\nmakes for ease of refutation, as will be seen.\n\nFor, instead of the statement being, as the writer seems to think,\nalmost self-evidently true, it is almost obtrusively false. Instead of\nits being millions to one, given matter and force with all their present\nproperties, against the present arrangement of things occurring, it is\ninconceivable, assuming that nothing but the atoms and their properties\nexist, that any other arrangement than the present one should have\nresulted. For the present natural order is not something that is, so to\nspeak, separable from our conception of natural forces, it is something\nthat has grown out of and is the expression of the idea of nature. Thus,\ngiven a proper understanding of the principle of gravitation, and it is\nimpossible to conceive an unsupported stone _not_ falling to the ground.\nGiven a proper conception of the properties of the constituents of a\nchemical compound, and we can only conceive one result as possible. In\nall cases our conception of what _must_ occur follows from the nature of\nthe forces themselves. This is necessarily the case since the conception\nof the ultimate properties of matter has been built up by the\nobservation of the actual results. And one simply cannot conceive an\nalteration in these results without thinking of some alteration or\nmodification of the causes of which they are the expression. What is\ntrue of the part is true of the whole. The present structure of the\nworld stands as the inevitable outcome of the play of natural forces.\nThis is both the expression of an actual fact and a condition of\ncoherent thought. Uniformity of results from uniformity of conditions is\na pre-requisite to sane thinking.\n\nIn reality, the expression \"millions to one\" is no more than an appeal\nto man's awe in facing a stupendous mechanism, and his feeling of\nimpotence when dealing with so complex a subject as the evolution of a\nworld. It can only mean that to a certain state of knowledge it _seems_\nmillions to one against the present order resulting. But to a certain\nstate of knowledge it would seem millions to one against so fluid a\nthing as water ever becoming solid. To others it is a commonplace thing\nand a necessary consequence of the properties of water itself. To a\nsavage it would be millions to one against a cloud of \"fire mist\" ever\nbecoming a world with a highly diversified fauna and flora. To a\nscientist there is nothing more in it than antecedent and consequent.\nSuch expressions as its being \"millions to one\" against certain things\nhappening is never really more than an appeal to ignorance; it means\nonly that our knowledge is not great enough to permit our tracing the\nsuccessive stages of the evolution before us. Once the scientific\nconception of the universe is grasped, the marvel is not that the\npresent order exists, the marvel would be that any other \"order\" should\nbe, or that any radical alteration in it should occur.\n\nAnd there really is no need to throw the whole universe at the head of\nthe sceptic. That is an attempt to overcome him with sheer weight.\nIntrinsically there is nothing more marvellous in the evolution of a\nhabitable globe from the primitive nebula, than there is in the fact\nthat an unsupported stone always falls to the ground. It is only our\nfamiliarity with the one experience and our lack of knowledge concerning\nthe other that gives us the condition of wonder in the one case and lack\nof it in the other. In the light of modern knowledge \"order\" is, as W.\nH. Mallock says, \"a physical platitude, not a divine paradox.\"\n\nMoreover, if the odds are a million to one against the existence of the\npresent arrangement existing, the odds would be equally great against\nthe existence of any other arrangement. And as the odds are equally\ngreat against all--seeing that _some_ arrangement must exist--there can\nbe no logical value in using the argument against one arrangement in\nparticular. The same question, \"Why this arrangement and none other?\"\nmight arise in any case.\n\nFinally, the absurdity of arguing that the \"order\" of nature compels a\nbelief in deity may be seen by realising the fact that our conception of\norder is itself the product of the experienced sequence which\nconstitutes the order in question. Our ideas of order are not\nindependent of the world, they are its product--an expression of the\nrelation between organism and environment. Given a different organism,\nwith different sense organs, and the world would appear different. On\nthe other hand the whole structure of man is the result of the existing\nconditions. Assume the order to be changed, and the human\norganism--presuming it still to exist, will undergo corresponding\nmodifications. It would not find less order or less beauty, the order\nand the beauty would simply be found in another direction. And,\npresumably, the theist would still point to the existence of _that_\norder as clear proof of a designing intelligence.\n\nSomething needs to be said here on a more recent form of the argument\nfrom the \"order\" of nature than the one we have been discussing. There\nis no vital distinction between the old and the new form, but a\nvariation in terms seems to produce on some minds a conviction of\nnewness--itself a proof that the nature of the old form had never been\nfully realised.\n\nThis new form is that based upon what is called \"Directivity.\"\nRecognising that it is no longer possible to successfully dispute the\nscientific proposition that the state of the universe at any one moment\nmust be taken as the result of all the conditions then prevailing, and,\ntherefore, it is to the operation of the ultimate properties of matter,\nforce, ether,--or whatever name we choose to give to the substance of\nthe universe--it is argued that we nevertheless require some directing\nforce which will set, and keep the universe on its present track.\n\nBut there is really nothing in this beyond the now familiar appeal to\nhuman impotence. \"We do not know,\" \"We cannot see,\" are quite excellent\nreasons for saying nothing at all, but the very worst ground on which to\nmake positive statements, or on which to base positive beliefs. The\nonly condition that would justify our making human ignorance a ground\non which to make statements of the kind named would be that we had\ndemonstrably exhausted the possibilities of natural forces, and no\nfurther developments were possible in this direction. Far from this\nbeing the case there is not a single man of science who would dissent\nfrom the statement that we are only upon the threshold of a knowledge of\ntheir possibilities.\n\nAnd this assumption of \"direction\" is unconvincing, if not suicidal in\ncharacter. Assuming that direction may have occurred, the fact of\ndirection adds nothing to the qualities or possibilities of existence,\nany more than the \"directivity\" of a chemist adds to the possibilities\nof certain elements when he brings them into combination. Unless the\npossibilities of the compound were already in the elements guidance\nwould be useless. And, in the same way, unless the capacity for\nproducing the universe we see already existed in the atoms themselves,\nno amount of \"direction\" could have produced it. God simply takes the\nplace of the chemist bringing certain chemical elements in, of the\nengineer guiding certain forces along a particular channel. But no new\ncapacity is created, and all that is done by either the chemist or the\nengineer _might_ occur without their interference. Otherwise it could\nnot occur at all.\n\nNow there is no denying that natural forces _do_ produce the phenomena\naround us. That is undeniable. And whether there be a god or not this\nfact remains quite unaffected. All that God can do is to set up certain\ncombinations. But this does not exclude the possibility of this\ncombination taking place without the operation of deity. In fact, it\nimplies it. Either, then, natural forces possess the capacity to produce\nthe universe as we see it, or they do not. If they do not, then it is\nimpossible for us to conceive in what way even deity could produce it.\nIf, on the other hand, they have this capacity, the argument for the\nexistence of deity loses its force, and the theist is bound to admit\nthat all that he claims as due to the action of deity might have\nhappened without him. The theists own argument, if logically pursued\nends in divesting it of all coercive value.\n\nIt is curious that the theist should fail to see that a much stronger\nargument for the operation of deity would have been of a negative\ncharacter, to have proved that in some way God manifested an inhibitive\ninfluence and thus prevented certain things occurring which would have\ntranspired but for his interference. Regularity, or \"order\" is, as we\nhave seen, the necessary consequence of the persistence of force. And so\nlong as natural forces continue to express themselves in the way in\nwhich experience has led us to expect there is no need for us to think\nof anything beyond. The principle of inertia is with us here, for if it\nbe true that force will persist in a given direction unless deflected\nfrom its course by some other force, it must be equally true that _all_\nforces will work out a given consequence unless they are deflected from\ntheir course by the operation of some superior force.\n\nNow if it were possible for the theist to show that in certain cases the\nnormal consequences of known forces did not transpire, and that the\naberration could not be accounted for by the operation of any other\nconceivable force, it might be argued with some degree of plausibility\nthat there exists a controlling power beyond which answers to God. That\nmight afford a plausible case for \"directivity.\" But to insist upon the\nprevalence of \"natural order\" will not help the case for theism. It will\nrather embarrass it. It may, of course, impress all those whose\nconception of scientific method is poor--and sometimes one thinks that\nthis is all that is deliberately aimed at--but it will not affect anyone\nelse. To the informed mind it will appear that the Goddite is weakening\nhis case with every step he takes in the direction of what he apparently\nbelieves to be a demonstration of its logical invulnerability.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nTHE ARGUMENT FROM CAUSATION.\n\n\nThe argument from causation may logically follow that from existence, of\nwhich it may be regarded as a part. It is presented under various forms,\nand when stated in a persuasive manner, is next to the argument from\ndesign, probably as popular as any. The principal reason for this is, I\nthink, that very few people are concerned with thinking out exactly what\nis meant by causation, and the proposition that every event must have a\ncause, wins a ready assent, and when followed by the assertion that\ntherefore the universe must have had a cause, which is God, the\nreasoning, or rather the parody of reasoning, appeals to many. There is\na show of reason and logic, but little more.\n\nQuite unquestionably a great deals depends upon what is meant by\ncausation, and still more upon the use made of the law of causation by\ntheists. Thus we have seen it urged against Materialists that neural\nactivity cannot be the equivalent of thought because they do not\nresemble each other. And in another direction we meet with the same idea\nin the assertion that the cause must be equal to the effect, by which it\nis apparently meant that the cause must be _similar_ to the effect, and\nthat unless we can discern in the cause the same qualities manifested by\nthe effect, we have not established the fact of causation at all.\n\nThe complete and perfect answer to this last view is that the qualities\nmanifest in an effect never are manifest in the cause, were it so it\nwould be impossible to distinguish one from the other. The theist is,\nas is often the case, saying one thing and meaning another. What he says\nis that the cause must be adequate to the effect. There is no dispute\nhere. But what he proceeds to argue is that the effect must be\ndiscernible in the cause, which is a different statement altogether.\nWhen he says that an effect cannot be greater than its cause, what he\nmeans is that an effect cannot be different from its cause, which is\ndownright nonsense. He asks, How can that which has not life produce\nlife? as though the question were on all fours with the necessity for a\nman to possess twenty shillings before he can give change for a\nsovereign.\n\nOf course, the reply to all this is that the factors which when combined\nproduce an effect always \"give\" something of which when uncombined they\nshow no trace. There is no trace; of sweetness in the constituents of\nsugar of lead, or of blueness in the constituents of blue vitriol. In\nnot a single case, if we are to follow the logic of the theist, is there\na cause adequate to produce an effect, if we are to follow the reasoning\nof some theists; in each case we should have to assume some occult agent\nas responsible for the result. In reality and in strict scientific\ntruth, it is of the very essence of causation that there shall be\npresent in the effect some quality or qualities that are not present in\nthe cause. And all the confusion may be eliminated if there is borne in\nmind the simple and single consideration that in studying an effect it\nis the qualities of a combination with which we are properly concerned.\nAnd to expect to find in analysis that which is the product of synthesis\nis in the highest degree absurd.\n\nSir Oliver Lodge in his little work on \"Life and Matter\" properly\ncorrects the fallacy with which I have been dealing, and points out that\n\"properties can be possessed by an aggregate or an assemblage of\nparticles, which in the particles themselves did not in the slightest\ndegree exist.\" But in his desire to find a basis for his theism\nimmediately falls into an error in an opposite direction. We are on safe\nground, he says, in asserting that \"whatever is in a part must be in the\nwhole.\" This is true if it is meant that as the whole contains the part,\nthe part is in the whole. But in that sense the statement was hardly\nworth the making. What his argument demands is the meaning that as man\nis possessed of mind, and as man is part of nature, therefore nature, as\na whole, manifests mind. And that is not true. Mind may be a special\nmanifestation of a special arrangement of forces, and only occurring\nunder special conditions. What Sir Oliver says, then, is that the\nproperties of a part are in the whole, because the part is included in\nwhole. What he implies, and without this implication his argument is\nmeaningless, is that the properties of a part belong to all parts of the\nwhole. And that is a statement so grotesquely untrue that I suspect Sir\nOliver would be the first to disown the plain implications of his own\nargument.\n\nAnd here is Sir Oliver's illustration of his argument:--\n\n\n     \"the fact an apple has pips legitimises the assertion that an apple\n     tree has pips ... but it would be a childish misunderstanding to\n     expect to find actual pips in the trunk of a tree.\"\n\n\nNow, why should the fact that an apple has pips legitimise the\nstatement that an apple tree has pips, any more than it legitimises the\nstatement that the soil from which it springs has pips? And if the tree\nhas not actual pips, in what sense does it possess them? If the reply is\nthat it possesses them potentially, one may meet that with the rejoinder\nthat potentially pips, and everything else, including Sir Oliver Lodge,\nwere contained in the primitive nebulae. As a matter of fact the apple\ntree does not contain pips either actually or potentially. In his\nchampionship of theism our scientist forgets his science. What the apple\ntree possesses is the capacity for building up a fruit with pips _with\nthe aid of material extracted from the soil beneath and from the air\naround_. These pips are no more in the tree than they are in the air or\nthe soil--not even as a figure of speech. One might, from any point of\nview, as reasonably look for the colour and shape and smell of an apple\nin the tree as to look for the pips. The properties of the tree is\nreally one of the factors in the production of a result. Sir Oliver\nmakes the mistake of writing as though the tree was the only factor in\nthe problem.\n\nThis is not the place in which to enter on an exhaustive inquiry as to\nthe nature of causation. It is enough to point out that the whole\ntheistic fallacy rests here on the assumption that we are dealing with\ntwo things, when as a matter of fact we are dealing with only one. Cause\nand effect are not two separate things, they are the same thing viewed\nunder two different aspects. When, for example, I ask for the cause of\ngunpowder and am told that it is sulphur, charcoal, and nitre, or for a\ncause of sulphuric acid and am given sulphide of iron and oxygen, it is\nclear that considered separately these ingredients are not causes at\nall. Whether charcoal and sulphur will become part of the cause of\ngunpowder or not will depend upon the presence of the third agent;\nwhether sulphide of iron will rank as part of the cause of sulphuric\nacid will depend upon the presence of oxygen. In every case it is the\nassemblage of appropriate factors that constitute a real cause. But\ngiven the factors, gunpowder does not follow their assemblage, it is\ntheir assemblage that is expressed by the result. There is no succession\nin time, the result is instantaneous with the assemblage of the factors.\nThe effect is the registration, so to speak, of the combination of the\nfactors.\n\nNow if what has been said be admitted as correct the argument for the\nexistence of God as based upon the fact of causation breaks down\ncompletely. If cause and effect are the expressions of a relation, and\nif they are not two things, but only one, under two aspects, \"cause\"\nbeing the name for the related powers of the factors, and \"effect\" the\nname for their assemblage, to talk, as does the theist, of working back\nalong the chain of causes until we reach God, is nonsense. Even if we\ncould achieve this feat of regression, we could not reach by this means\na God distinct from the universe. For, as discovering the cause of any\neffect means no more than analysing an effect into its factors, the\nproblem would ultimately be that of dealing with the question of how\nsomething already existing transformed itself into the existing\nuniverse. A form of a very doubtful Pantheism might be reached in this\nway, but not theism.\n\nBut here a fresh difficulty presents itself to the theist. A cause, as\nI have pointed out, must consist of at least two factors or two forces.\nThis is absolutely indispensable. But assuming that we have got back to\na point prior to the existence of the universe, we have on the theistic\ntheory, not two factors, but only one. The essential condition for an\nact of causation is lacking. A single factor could only repeat itself.\nBy this method the theist might reach \"God.\" But having got there, there\nhe would remain. He is left with God and nothing else, and with no\npossibility of reaching anything else.\n\nWe land in the same dilemma if we pursue another road. Philosophers of\ncertain schools place existence in two categories. There is the world of\nappearance (phenomena), and there is the world of reality or substance\n(noumena). We know phenomena and their laws, they say, but no more. We\ndo not know, and cannot know, Substance in itself; and the theist\npromptly adds that this unknown substance is but another name for God.\nThe philosopher also warns us against applying the laws of the\nphenomenal world to noumena, reminding us that what we call \"laws of\nnature\" have been devised to explain the world as it presents itself to\nour consciousness. And to this we have the theological analogue in the\nwarning not to measure the infinite by the finite or to judge God by\nhuman standards.\n\nNow granting all this, let us see how the argument stands. The laws of\nphenomena belong exclusively to the phenomenal world. Their application\nand their validity are restricted to the world of phenomena. When we\nleave this region we are in a sphere to which they are quite\ninapplicable. What, then, can be meant by speaking of God as a \"First\nCause\"? Cause is a phenomenal term, it expresses the relations between\nphenomena, and it has no meaning when applied to this assumed and\nunknown reality. We are in the position of one who is trying to use a\ncolour scale in a world where vision does not exist. The theist is\ntrying, in a similar way, to use the conception of \"cause,\" which is\ncreated to express the relations between phenomena, in a world where\nphenomena have no existence. Thus, when the theist, to use his own\nwords, has traced back an effect to a cause, and this to a prior cause,\nand so on, till he has reached a \"First Cause,\" what happens? Simply\nthis. At the end of the chain of phenomena the theist makes a mighty\njump and gains the noumenon. But between this and the phenomenon he can\nestablish no relation whatever. It cannot be a cause of phenomena\nbecause on his own showing causation is a phenomenal thing. He has\nworked back along the chain of causation, discarding link after link on\nhis journey. Finally, he reaches God and discards the lot. And here he\nis left clinging with _no intelligible way of getting back again_. If on\nthe other hand, he relates God to phenomena he has failed to get what he\nrequires. He has merely added one more link to his chain of phenomena,\nand the \"first cause\" remains as far off as ever. For if God is not\nrelated to phenomena he ceases to be a cause of phenomena in the only\nsense in which he is of use to the theistic hypothesis.\n\nFurther, one may ask, Why travel back along the chain of causation to\ndiscover God? What is gained by travelling along an infinite series,\nand saying suddenly, \"At this point I espy God.\" Confessedly we may\ntrace back phenomena as far as we will without finding ourselves a step\nnearer a commencement. All we get is a transformation of pre-existing\nmaterial into new forms. Consequently all the evidence that exists at\nthe moment we cease our journey existed when we began it. In short, if\nGod can be shown to be the efficient cause of phenomena anywhere, he can\nbe shown to be the cause everywhere, and the proof may be produced\nthrough phenomena immediately at hand as well as from those removed from\nus by an indefinite number of stages. The evidence becomes neither\nstronger nor more relevant by being put farther back. Proof is not like\nwine, its quality does not improve with age. To say that we must pause\nsomewhere may be true, but that is only reminding us that both human\ntime and human energy are limited. But it is certainly foolish to first\nof all induce mental exhaustion, and then use it as the equivalent of a\npositive and valuable discovery.\n\nAnd even though by some undiscovered method we had reached that\nmetaphysical nightmare a cause of all phenomena, and in defiance of all\nintelligibility had christened it a \"First Cause,\" how would that\nsatisfy the \"causal craving\"? Professor Campbell Fraser very properly\nsays that \"the old form of each new phenomenon as much needs explanation\nas the new form itself did, and this need is certainly neither satisfied\nnor destroyed by referring one form of existence to another.\" If A. is\nexplained by B. we are driven to explain B. by C., and so on\nindefinitely. Or if we can stop with A. or B. then the causal craving\nis not so persistent as was supposed, and man can rest content within\nthe limit of recognised limitations. For what Professor Fraser calls an\n\"absolutely originating cause\" is only such so long as we have not\nreached it. We are satisfied with an imaginary B. as an explanation of\nthe actual A. so long as B. does not come within our grasp. So soon as\nit has become the originating cause of the phenomenon in hand we are off\non a further search. \"First\" has no other intelligible sense or meaning\nthan this. \"First\" in relation to a given cluster of phenomenon we may\ngrant; \"First\" in the sense of calling for no further explanation is\ndownright theological lunacy.\n\nAn eternal \"First cause\" could only be such in relation to an eternal\neffect. And in that case it could not be _prior_ to the effect since the\neffect is only the existing factors combined. Causation cannot carry us\n_beyond_ phenomena since it has no meaning apart from phenomena. The\nnotion that because every phenomenon has a cause therefore there must be\na cause for phenomena as a whole--meaning by this for the sum total of\nphenomena--is wholly absurd. It is not sound science, it is not good\nphilosophy, it is not even commonsense. It is simply nonsense which is\ngiven an air of dignity because it is clothed in philosophic language.\nYou cannot rise from phenomena to the theist's God; first, because, as I\nhave said, cause and effect are names for the relation that is seen to\nexist between one phenomenon and another, and the theist is seeking\nafter something that is above all relations. To postulate something that\nis not phenomena as the cause of phenomena, is like discussing the\npossibility of a bird's flight and dismissing the possibility of an\natmosphere. Secondly, causation can give no clue to a God because the\nsearch for causes is a search for the conditions under which phenomena\noccur. And when we have described these conditions we have fulfilled all\nthe conditions required to establish an act of causation. The theist, in\nshort, commences with a wrong conception of causation. He proceeds by\napplying to one sphere language and principles from another, and to\nwhich they can have no possible application, and where they have no\nintelligibility. And having completely confused the issue, he ends with\na conclusion which, even on his own showing, has no logical relation to\nthe premises laid down.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nTHE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN.\n\n\nKant called the argument from design \"the oldest, the clearest, and the\nmost adapted to the ordinary human reason,\" of all the arguments\nadvanced on behalf of the belief in God. Kant's dictum, it will be\nobserved, omits all opinion as to its quality, and his own criticism of\nit left it a sorry wreck. John Stuart Mill treated it far more\nrespectfully, and commenced his examination of it with the flattering\nintroduction, \"We now at last reach an argument of a really scientific\ncharacter,\" and, although he did not find the argument convincing, gave\nit a most respectful dismissal. The purpose of the present chapter is to\nshow that the argument from design in nature is in the last degree\nunscientific, that the analogy it seeks to establish is a false one,\nthat it is completely and hopelessly irrelevant to the point at issue,\nand that one might grant nearly all it asks for, and even then show that\nit does not prove what it sets out to prove. That such an argument\nshould have, and for so long, exerted so much influence over the human\nmind, gives one anything but a flattering impression of the power of\nreason in human affairs.\n\nTrue it is that of late years the argument from design has felt the\ninfluence of the growth of the idea of evolution, and the champions of\ntheism have used it with much greater caution, and under an obvious\nsense that it no longer wielded its old authority. The fact that this\nis so forms a commentary on the statement so often made that man's\ncraving for an ultimate cause leads to the belief in God. The truth\nbeing that man--the average man--only seeks for an explanation of\nimmediate happenings. Once the immediate thing before him is explained\nhis curiosity is allayed. The average man lives mentally from hand to\nmouth, and troubles as little about ultimate explanations as he does\nabout the exhaustion of the coal supply.\n\nIt is a point of some significance that the perception of design in\nnature, as with the belief in deity, is, if one may use the expression,\npre-scientific in point of origin. What I mean by that is that it\noriginates at a time when no other explanation of the origin of natural\nadaptations existed. It did not establish itself as one of several rival\nexplanations and in virtue of its own strength. It was established\nsimply because no other explanation was at the time conceivable. And so\nsoon as another explanation, such as that of natural selection, was\nplaced before the world, the origin of adaptations as a product of an\nextra-natural designing intelligence became to most educated minds\nsimply impossible. The perception of design in nature was, as a matter\nof fact, no more than a special illustration of the animistic frame of\nmind which reads vitality into all natural happenings. It is impossible\nto find in the statement that particular adaptations in nature are\ndesigned anything more scientific than one can find in the belief that\nrain is the product of a heavenly rain-cow, or that flashes of lightning\nare spears thrown by competing heavenly warriors. It is the language\nonly that differs in the two cases. The frame of mind indicated in the\ntwo cases are identical.\n\nThe attractiveness of the argument from design lies in its nearness to\nhand and in its appeal to facts, combined with the impossibility of\nverification. That nature is full of strange and curious examples of\nadaptation is clear to all, although the significance of these\nadaptations are by no means so clear. Moreover, a very casual study of\nthese cases show that they are better calculated to dazzle than to\nconvince. The presentation of a number of more or less elaborate facts\nof adaptation, followed with the remark that we are unable to see how\nsuch cases could have been brought about in the absence of a designing\nintelligence, is, at best, an appeal to human weakness and ignorance.\nThe reverse of such a position is that if we had complete knowledge of\nthe causes at work, the assumption of design might be found to be quite\nunnecessary. \"We cannot see\" is only the equivalent of we do not know,\nand that is a shockingly bad basis on which to build an argument.\n\nWhen, therefore, an eminent electrician like Professor Fleming says, \"We\nhave overwhelming proof that in the manufacture of the infinite number\nof substances made in Nature's laboratory there must be at all stages\nsome directivity,\" this can only mean that Professor Fleming cannot see\nthe way in which these substances are made. It does not mean that he\nsees _how_ they are made. And in saying this he is in no better position\nthan was Kepler, who after describing the true laws of planetary motion,\nwhen he came to the question of _why_ the planets should describe these\nmotions fell back on the theory of \"Angelic intelligences\" as the\ncause. The true explanation came with the physics of Galileo and Newton,\nand with that, farewell to the angelic \"directivity.\" The only reason\nfor Kepler's angels was his ignorance of the causes of planetary motion.\nThe only reason why Professor Fleming says that the atoms \"have to be\nguided into certain positions to build up the complex molecules\" is that\nhe is unable to isolate this assumed directive force and to show it in\noperation; he is like a modern Kepler faced with something the cause of\nwhich he doesn't know, and lugging in \"God\" to save further trouble. It\nis an assumption of knowledge where no knowledge exists. \"God\" is always\nwhat Spinoza called it, the asylum of ignorance. When causes are unknown\n\"God\" is brought forward. When causes are known \"God\" retires into the\nbackground. \"God\" is not an explanation, it is a narcotic.\n\nThe argument from design rests upon the existence in nature of\nadaptations either general or special. And quite obviously the value of\nevidence derived from adaptations will be determined by the existence of\nnon-adaptations. If, that is, it can be shown that a certain assemblage\nof forces produce adaptation, while in another instance they fail to\nproduce it, it would then be logical to argue that the difference was\ndue to the directive power being withdrawn in the latter case. But that\nas we know is never the case. What we see is always the same conditions\nproducing the same effects. We are never able to say, \"Here are natural\nforces working _minus_ a directing intelligence, and here is an\nassemblage of the same forces working _plus_ the addition of a\ndirecting intelligence.\" If we could do that we should be able to\nattribute the difference to the new factor. But this we are never able\nto do. And it is an elementary principle of scientific method that\nbefore we can assert the existence of a distinct force or factor, the\npossibility of isolation must be shown. Adaptation can, then, only be\ndemonstrated by non-adaptation. And _non-adaptation in nature simply\ndoes not exist, except in relation to an ideal end created by\nourselves_.\n\nSurprising as this may appear to some, examination shows it to be no\nmore than a truism, and that granted, the whole strength of the argument\nfrom adaptation, whether in the inorganic or the organic world,\ndisappears.\n\nTo see the matter the more clearly, let us drop for a time the word\n\"adaptation\" and substitute the word \"process.\" For that after all is\nwhat nature presents us with. We see processes and we see results. It is\nbecause we create an _end_ for these processes that we class them as\nwell or ill adapted to achieve it. We make a gun, and say it is ill or\nwell made as it shoots well or ill. But whether it carries straight or\nnot the relation of the shooting to the construction of the gun remains\nthe same. Judging the gun merely from its construction, the product\nanswers completely to the combination of its parts. Constructed in one\nway the gun cannot but shoot straight. Constructed in another way the\ngun cannot but shoot crookedly. And the only reason we have for calling\none good and the other bad is that _we_ desire a particular result. But\nthe goodness or badness has nothing to do with the thing itself. Its\nadaptation to the end produced is as perfect in the one case as in the\nother. It could produce no other result than the one that actually\nemerges without an alteration in the means employed. A thing is what it\nis because it is the combination of all the forces that produce it. And\nto ask us to marvel at the result of a process, when the one is the\nproduct of the other is like asking us to express our surprise that\ntwice two equal four. Twice two equal four because four is the sum of\nthe factors, and no one dreams of praising God because they don't\nsometimes make four and a half. The argument from adaptations in nature\nis, when examined, just about as impressive as the reasoning of the\ncurate who saw the hand of Providence in the fact that death came at the\nend of life instead of in the middle of it.\n\nAdaptation is not, then, a singular fact in nature, but a universal one.\nIt is everywhere, in the case of death as in that of life. It is the\nsame in the case of a child born a marvel of health and beauty as in\nthat of one born deformed and diseased. There is nothing else but\nadaptations of means to ends in nature, however displeasing some of them\nmay be to us. The \"harmony\" which the theist perceives in nature is not\nthe expression of \"plan,\" it is the inevitable outcome of the properties\nof existence. Given matter and force, and it requires no \"directive\nintelligence\" to produce the existing order, it would indeed require a\nGod to prevent its occurrence.\n\nIt is the same if we take the case of animal life alone. To say that\nanimal life is adapted to its environment, and to say that animal life\nexists, is to say the same thing in two ways. Whether animal forms are\nfashioned by \"divine intelligence\" or not, the fact of adaptation\nremains; for adaptation is the essential condition of existence. And as\nadaptation is the condition of existence, it follows that an animal's\nfeelings, structure, and functions will be developed in accordance with\nthe nature of the environment. If the conditions of existence were\ndifferent from what they are animal life would show corresponding\nmodifications. But all the same we should observe the same\ncorrespondence between animal life and its surroundings. Here, again, we\nhave a fact transformed, without the slightest warranty, into a purpose.\n\nNow, if the theist could prove that out of a number of equally possible\nlines of development living beings show one fixed form, and that against\nthe compulsion of environmental forces, he would do something to prove\nthe probability of some sort of guidance. But that we know cannot be\ndone. The forms of life are infinite in number. They vary within all\npossible limits; and always in terms of environmental conditions. In\nbrief, what is said to occur with God, can be shown to be inevitable\nwithout him. \"God\" in nature is a wholly gratuitous hypothesis.\n\nLater it will be seen that the whole basis of the argument from design\nis fallacious; that it proceeds along altogether wrong lines, and that\nthe final objection to it is that it is completely irrelevant to the\npoint at issue. For the moment, however, we proceed with a criticism of\nthe argument as usually stated.\n\nIt must be borne in mind that what the theist desires to reach is a\n_Creator_, but it is obvious that this plea can never give us more than\na mere designer working on materials that already exist. Of necessity\ndesign implies two things, difficulties to be overcome, and skill or\nwisdom in overcoming them. Design is an understandable thing in\nconnection with man, because man is always occupied in overcoming the\nresistance of forces that exist quite independently of him, and which\noperate without reference to his needs or desires. But it would be\nabsurd to assume design on the part of one for whom difficulties had no\nexistence, or on the part of one who himself created the forces that had\nto be overcome, and endowed them with all the properties which made the\nwork of design necessary. Granting the relevance of the data upon which\nthe belief in design rests, one could only assume, with Mill, that \"the\nauthor of the Cosmos worked under limitations; that he was obliged to\nadapt himself to conditions independent of his will, and to attain his\nends by such arrangements as these conditions admitted of.\"\n\nIn the next place, the argument for design is an argument from analogy,\nand an analogy can by its very nature never give a complete\ndemonstration. It can never offer more than a probability, more or less\nconvincing as the analogy is more of less complete. But in the case\nunder consideration the analogy is considerably less rather than more.\nPaley's classical illustration--taken almost verbatim from Malebranche,\nbut as old otherwise as the days of Greek philosophy, where a statute\ntook its place--was that of a watch. And the conclusion was drawn that\nas the parts of a watch bear obvious marks of having been made with a\nview to a particular end, so the animal structure and the universe as a\nwhole bear similar marks of having been designed. It is true that of\nlate years the Paleyan form of the argument has been disavowed by most\nscholarly advocates of theism, but as they immediately proceed to make\nuse of arguments that are substantially identical with it, the\nrepudiation does not seem of great consequence. It reminds one of a\ngovernment that is compelled by the force of public opinion to openly\nrepudiate one of its officials, and having removed him from the office\nin which the misdemeanour was committed, immediately appoints him to one\nof an increased dignity and with a larger salary.\n\nThus, we have Professor Fiske saying that \"Paley's simile of a watch is\nno longer applicable to such a world as this\" (\"Idea of God\"; p. 131),\nand Prof. Sorley telling us that \"the age of Paley and of the\nBridgewater Treatises is past\" (Moral Values and the Idea of God; p.\n327), and Mr. Balfour repudiating Paley as having been ruled out of\ncourt by Darwinism (\"Humanism and Theism,\" chapter II.). But as Fiske\nputs the flower in the place of the watch, Sorley, the moral nature of\nman, and Balfour, the conditions of animal life, it is not quite clear\nwhy if the Paleyan argument is invalid, the new form is any more\nintellectually respectable. The essence of the Paleyan argument was the\nassertion of a mind behind phenomena, the workings of which could be\nseen in the forms of animal life. And whether we find that proof in the\ngrowth of a flower, or in the moral sense of man, or in the creation of\nnatural conditions that impel the development of life along a certain\nroad, the distinction is not vital. We are still finding proofs of God\nin the structure of the world (where otherwise, indeed, are we to find\nit?) and we are still depending on the supposed likeness between the\nworks of human intelligence and natural products.\n\nAnd that analogy is wholly false. The argument from design aims at\nproving that _all_ things are made by a creative intelligence. It is not\nmerely animals that are designed; they are selected as no more than\nstriking individual examples of a general truth. Everything, if theism\nbe true, must be ultimately due to manufacture. But the whole\nsignificance of the Paleyan argument from design is that behind the\nmanufactured article which we recognise as such, there are other\narticles or other things that are not manufactured. The traveller, says\nPaley, who comes across a watch recognises in the relation of its parts\nevidences of workmanship. But he does not see in the breaking of a wave\non the shore, or in the piling up of sand in the desert, or in a pebble\non the beach, the same tokens of workmanship. In the very act of\nattempting to prove that _some_ things _are_ made, the theist is\ncompelled to assume that _all_ things are not made. He can only gain a\nvictory at the price of confessing a defeat.\n\nBut is there any real analogy between the works of man and the universe\nat large? Let us take a familiar example. It is, we are told in a very\nfamiliar illustration, as absurd to imagine that the world as it exists\nis the work of unguided natural forces, as it would be to believe that\nthe rows of letters in a compositor's \"stick\" had of their own\ncontained force arranged themselves in intelligible sentences. The\nabsurdity of the last supposition is admitted, but why is that so?\nObviously because we have the previous knowledge that the type itself is\na manufactured thing, and that its arrangement in orderly sentences is\nthe work of intelligent men. Thus, what occurs when we come across a\nparticular example of type setting is that we compare our present\nexperience with other experiences and recognise it as belonging to a\nparticular class. So with the watch. The only reason we have for\nbelieving that a watch is made is that of our previous knowledge that\nsuch things are made. The present judgment is based upon past\nexperience. But the case of animal forms, and still more the universe at\nlarge, offers no such analogy. We know nothing of world makers nor of\nanimal makers. We have no previous experience to go upon, nor have we\nany things of a similar kind, known to be made, with which we can\ncompare them. Instead of the points of resemblance between the two\nthings being so numerous as to compel belief, they agree in one\nparticular only, that of existence. At most all we are left with is the\npalpably absurd position that because man selects and adjusts means to a\ngiven end, therefore any combination of forces in nature which produce a\ncertain result must also be the expression of conscious intention.\n\nSome apparent force even to this flimsy conclusion might be given if\nnature could be said to be working towards a given end. But we do not\nfind this. What we see is a multitude of forces at work, the action of\neach of which often results in the negation of the other. Put on one\nside the larger, but not the least pregnant fact that animal life is\nonly maintained in the face of numerous agencies, inorganic and organic,\nthat are apparently bent upon its destruction; put on one side also the\nfact that multitudes of parasites--as much the result of design as any\nother form of life--are constantly preying upon and destroying forms of\nlife higher than themselves, and there still remain myriads of facts\naltogether inconsistent and completely irreconcilable with the\nhypothesis of a creative intelligence shaping the course of affairs to a\ngiven end. To take only one illustration of this. What is to be said of\nthe myriads of animals that are born into the world only to perish\nbefore reaching an age at which they can play their part in the\nperpetuation of the species? Are we to believe that the same deity who\nfashioned these forms of life created at the same time a number of\nforces that were certain to destroy them? Clearly we are bound to\nassume, either that this hypothetical Being pursues a number of mutually\ndestructive plans, or that there are a number of designers at work and\nat war with each other, or that none at all exist.\n\nIf we are to judge nature from the standpoint of human intelligence,\nthen we must logically decide that it is full of waste, full of\nbungling, full of plans that come to nothing, of ends that are never\nrealised, of pain and misery that might have been avoided by the\nexercise of almost ordinary intelligence. There are few animals\nconcerning which a competent anatomist or physiologist could not suggest\nsome improvement in their construction by which their functions might be\nmore efficiently performed. Nor does it seem quite impossible to have\nso adjusted natural forces that the development of life might have been\naccomplished without the present enormous waste of material. It is\nalmost stupid to ask, as did the late Dr. Martineau, what right have we\nto judge the world from \"a purely humanistic point of view.\" The whole\nargument from design is based upon a humanistic point of view. The\nAtheist is only calling the attention of the theist to the consequences\nof his own argument.\n\nI leave for a later chapter, the moral aspect of the design argument. I\nam at present concerned with its purely logical presentation. And the\ncrowning charge here is not that it is inconclusive, not that it falls\nshort, as Mill thought, of a complete analogy, the decisive rejection of\nit is based upon the fact that it is absolutely irrelevant. The argument\nhas no bearing on the issue; the evidence has no relation to the case.\nWhat is the essence of the argument from design? It is based upon\ncertain adaptations that are observed to exist. But adaptation is, as we\nhave shown, a universal quality of existence. It exists in every case,\nand no more in one case than in another. And when the theist says that\nbecause certain things work together therefore god arranged it, an apt\nquery is, How do you know? One may even say, Granting there is a God,\nhow do you know that what is was actually designed by him? It is no use\nreplying that the way things work together prove design, for things\nalways work together. They cannot do otherwise. Any group of forces work\ntogether to produce a given result. That is part of the universal fact\nof adaptation which the theist holds up as though it were a divine\nmiracle instead of, as Mallock says, a physical platitude.\n\nLet us take an illustration from everyday life. A man tries his hand at\nbuilding a bicycle. When it is finished the wheels are not true, the\nframe is unsteady, the whole thing is ready to fall to pieces and is\nabsolutely unrideable. Is any one warranted in declaring that because\nthe parts have all been brought together by me therefore the resulting\nmachine was an act of design? Clearly not. What I designed was a machine\nperfect after its kind. What appeared was the miserable structure that\nis before us. On the other hand that machine with all its imperfections\nmight have been designed by me. I might, for some purpose deliberately\nhave intended to make a machine that would not carry a rider. And when\nwould anyone be logically justified in saying which of the two kinds of\nmachines express my design? Clearly, only when he had a knowledge of my\nintention. Apart from a knowledge of an intention preceding an act the\ninference of design is unwarrantable.\n\nNow, assuming the existence of a God, and who stands in the same\nrelation to the world that I do to the machine, how can anyone know that\nthe world as it is expresses design any more than did my home-made\nbicycle? In this case, as in the former, what is needed to justify the\nassumption of design is a knowledge of intention. One must know what the\nassumed maker intended and then see how far the actual result realises\nit.\n\nDesign, in short, although it may be expressed in a physical form is not\na physical thing, but a psychic fact. You cannot by examining physical\nprocesses and results reach design. You cannot start with a material\nfact and reach intention. You must begin with intention and compare it\nwith the physical result. Things may be as they are whether design is\ninvolved or not. It is only by a knowledge of intention, and a\ncomparison of that with the fact before us that we can be certain of\ndesign. Proof of design is not found in the capacity of certain clusters\nof circumstances or forces to realise a particular result, but in a\nknowledge that they correspond with an intention which we know to have\nexisted before the result occurs.\n\nTo warrant a logical belief in design in nature three things are\nessential. First, one must assume that a God exists. Second, one must\ntake it for granted that one has a knowledge of the intention in the\nmind of the deity before the alleged designed thing is brought into\nexistence. Finally, one must be able to compare the result with the\nintention and demonstrate their agreement. But the impossibility of\nknowing the first two things is apparent. And without the first two the\nthird is of no value whatever. For we have no means of reaching the\nfirst except through the third. And until we get to the first we cannot\nmake use of the third. We are thus in a hopeless impasse. No examination\nof nature can lead back to God because we lack the necessary starting\npoint. All the volumes that have been written, and all the sermons that\nhave been preached depicting the wisdom of organic structures are so\nmuch waste of paper and breath. They prove nothing, and can prove\nnothing. They assume at the beginning all they require at the end. Their\nGod is not something reached by way of inference, it is something\nassumed at the very outset.\n\nWhat the theist does at every step of his reasoning is to read his own\nfeelings and desires into nature. The design he talks so glibly about is\nin him, not outside of him. As well might a maggot in a cheese argue\nthat the world was designed for him because the agreement between his\nstructure and it are so harmonious. In relation to their surroundings\nman and the maggot are in the same position. And in the economy of\nnature man is of no more consequence than the maggot. There is a more\ncomplex synthesis of forces here than there, a more subtle exhibition of\nnature's infinite capacity for evolving fresh forms of life, and that is\nall. It is man himself who paints a distorted picture of himself on the\nsurface of things, who reads his own passions and desires into nature,\nand then admires a marvel created by himself. To he who correctly\nvisualises the process of the evolution of deity, the existence of God\nis hardly to-day a question for discussion. There is a discussion only\nof the history of the belief, and in that is found its strongest\ncondemnation.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nTHE DISHARMONIES OF NATURE.\n\n\nIt has already been indicated that it is not really necessary, in order\nto prove design, to establish the fact that the design is perfect or\nthat it exhibits complete goodness. It is enough that there be design.\nIts moral quality or value is quite another question. Nevertheless, it\nwill be as well to deal with this latter aspect of the subject, and to\nsee what kind of \"plan\" it is that nature does exhibit, even assuming\nthe existence of some design.\n\nNow it is evident that if there be design in nature, and if the design\nis the expression of a single supreme mind one quality of that plan\nshould be unity. The products should, so to speak, dovetail into each\nother in such a way that they work together, and even harmonise with\neach other. But this is, notoriously, not the case. If from one point of\nview there is a certain harmony throughout the world of living beings in\nvirtue of which life is preserved, it is at least equally true that from\nanother point of view the harmony is one of destruction. And in the end\ndeath wins. Sooner or later death overtakes all forms of life, while in\nthe grand total of living beings born into the world, a far larger\nnumber perish than can reach maturity. Wasted effort is the mildest\njudgment that can be passed upon these abortive attempts. And not only\ndoes death eventually win in the case of each individual, and against\nwhich may be set the consideration that in the economy of nature death\nplays a part in the development of life, but eventually death will, if\nwe are to trust science, reap a sweeping and universal triumph by the\nconsummation of terrestrial conditions that will render the maintenance\nof life impossible.\n\nOr, again, the relations of species are clearly not what we have a right\nto expect in the working out of a reasonably wise and benevolent plan.\nIt is a general truth that, with the exception of a few instances,\nchiefly connected with the relations existing between insects and\nflowers, the development of one species in relation to another is not\nthat of mutual helpfulness. The general rule here is that of mutual\ninjury. The carnivora prey on the herbivora and upon each other; and the\nherbivora crush each other by methods that are as effective as the\nmethod of direct attack. Any variation is \"good\" provided it be of\nadvantage to its possessor. And the \"good\" of the one kind may mean the\ndestruction of another order. All the exquisite design shown in the\ndevelopment of the finer feelings of man, and upon which theistic\nsentimentalists love to dwell, may be seen in the structure of those\nparasites which destroy man and bring his finer feelings to naught. The\nlate Theodore Roosevelt says of the Brazilian forests:--\n\n\n     In these forests the multitude of insects that bite, sting, devour,\n     and prey on other creatures, often with accompaniments of atrocious\n     suffering, passes belief. The very pathetic myths of beneficent\n     nature could not deceive even the least wise being if he once saw\n     the iron cruelty of life in the tropics. Of course, \"nature\"--in\n     common parlance a wholly inaccurate term, by the way, especially\n     when used to express a single entity--is entirely ruthless, no less\n     so as regards types than as regards individuals, and entirely\n     indifferent to good or evil, and works out her ends or no ends\n     with utter disregard of pain and woe (Cited by E. D. Fawcett in\n     _The World as Imagination_; pp. 571-2).\n\n\nAnd Mr. Carveth Reade expresses the same thing in a more elaborate\nsumming up:--\n\n\n     The merciless character of organic evolution appears to us, first,\n     in reckless propagation and the consequent destruction. Every\n     species is as prolific as it can be compatibly with the development\n     of its individuals; and the deaths that ensue from inanition,\n     disease, violence, present a stupefying scene. The best one can say\n     for it is that, as life rises in the organic scale, the death rate\n     declines. Yet even man still suffers outrageously by violence,\n     disease, inanition; the notion that \"Malthus's Law\" no longer holds\n     of civilised man is a foolish delusion. But more sinister than the\n     direct destruction of life is the spectacle of innumerable species\n     profiting by a life, parasitic or predatory, at the expense of\n     others. The parasites refute the vulgar prejudice that evolution is\n     by the measure of man, progressive; adaptation is indifferent to\n     better or worse, except as to each species, that its offspring\n     shall survive by atrophy and degradation. The predatory species\n     flourish as if in derision of moral maxims; we see that though\n     human morality is natural to man, it is far from expressing the\n     whole of Nature. Animals, at first indistinguishable vegetables,\n     devour them and enjoy a far richer life. Animals that eat other\n     animals are nearly always superior not only in strength, grace and\n     agility but in intelligence. There are exceptions to this rule;\n     some snakes eat monkeys (thanking Providence), and the elephant is\n     content with foliage; but compare cats and wolves with the\n     ungulates that make a first concoction of herbs for their sake. It\n     is true that our monkey kin are chiefly frugivorous; for it may be\n     plausibly argued that man was first differentiated by becoming\n     definitely carnivorous, a sociable hunter, as it were, a wolf-ape.\n     Hence the advantage of longer legs, the use of weapons, the upright\n     gait and defter hands to use and make weapons, more strategic\n     brains, tribal organisation, and hence liberation from the tropical\n     forest, and citizenship of the world. The greater part of his\n     subsequent history is equally unedifying: having made the world his\n     prey, he says that God made the world to that end, and those who\n     have preyed upon their fellows, and enslaved them, and flourished\n     upon it, have declared that to have been the intention of nature.\n     (_The Metaphysics of Nature_; pp. 344-5).\n\n\nA perpetual pulling down and building up, and the building altogether\ndependent upon the demolition. The tiger built with tastes and\ncapacities for catching the gazelle: the gazelle built with capacities\nthat enable it to escape the tiger. There is no evidence here of the\nexistence of a single mind working out an intelligent plan. At most we\nhave either the proof for a number of warring powers, each one striving\nto destroy what the other is striving to create, or a single mind that\nhas deliberately fashioned things so that each part may work for the\ndestruction of the other part, the whole to presently end in a grand\ncatastrophe.\n\nBut that is not all. If we limit our attention to man, can it be said\nthat we find in the human structure what we might reasonably expect to\nfind if man be indeed the crown of the divine plan, the event to which,\nfor untold ages, all things were designedly tending? What we actually do\nfind is that the structure of man, physically and mentally, is such as\nto altogether negative the notion of complete or harmonious adjustment\nto environment. That the human has within it a large number of vestigial\nstructures--some scientists place it as high as one hundred and\nseventy--is now well known, and forms at the same time one of the\nevidences of evolution and an impeachment of the theistic theory. There\nis only need to instance now the vermiform appendage, which forms the\nseat of appendicitis, the \"wisdom\" teeth, of very little use, and one of\nthe most fruitful of causes of disease of the teeth, the hair which\ncovers the human body, now of no use whatever, except to form a lodgment\nfor microbes, and so makes the acquisition of disease the more certain.\nIn addition to the number of rudimentary organs that actually encourage\ndisease--Metchnikoff counts among these the larger intestine--the body\nis full of rudimentary muscles and structures that when not positively\nharmful, impose a tax on the organism for which no corresponding service\nis performed.\n\nThe meaning and significance of these structures are, however, so well\nrecognised that one need not dwell upon their existence. Not so well\nknown is the complementary fact that just as in his physical structure\nman bears evidence of his emergence from lower forms of life, which\nresult in a certain degree of disharmony between him and an ideal\nenvironment, so in his psychic life his instincts and feelings are often\nsuch as to prevent that ideal adaptation which so many desire. The\nearlier conception of optimistic evolutionists that the instincts of man\nwere, through the operation of natural selection, converted into\nbeneficent guides is quite faulty. In itself this was probably a\nsurvival of the theism which tried to prove that this was the best of\nall possible worlds, and which led evolutionists to try and prove that\ntheir theory was also ethically desirable. At any rate, the theory of\nthe wholly beneficent nature of human instincts is not tenable. Our\ninstincts are inherited from our animal ancestors; they were brought to\nfruition under conditions different in form from those which obtain with\nhuman beings, with the result that whether an instinct is helpful or the\ncontrary depends largely upon the educational quality of the\nenvironment, and even then inherited tendencies may be so strong as to\nmake them a source of danger to the community rather than of benefit.\n\nIt is noted, for example, that a deal of what may be called crime, or at\nleast lawlessness, is the result of an individual being born with\ntendencies developed in a way that fits him for an environment of\ncenturies ago, rather than an environment of to-day. Very many of our\nnational heroes of a few centuries ago would rank as criminals to-day,\njust as many of our criminals to-day would, had they been born a few\ncenturies since, have been handed down to us as examples of chivalry or\nof national heroism. Instead of what one may call the natural endowments\nof man pointing towards a more civilised form of life, they point to a\nless civilised form, while it is the artificially or socially induced\nfeelings and ideas that point to a better future.\n\nThus, if we take the primitive or brute feeling of retaliation we find\nit assuming the form of war. And without discussing the value of war in\nthe past, or even its admissibility in special circumstances in the\npresent, I do not think it will be seriously disputed that the great\nneed of the present is to transfer that feeling from the lower level of\nbrute force to the higher one of adventure in the interests of science\nand human betterment. Here it is not the existence of a lofty\n\"god-given\" endowment that puts man out of harmony with his environment;\nit is, on the contrary, the operation of an earlier form of feeling\nmanifestation which retards the coming of a better day.\n\nThere is, in fact, not a single quality of human nature that can be\nsaid to act with inerrancy. The baby seizes objects indiscriminately and\nputs them in its mouth. The man falling into the water does the very\nthing he should not do--throws up his arms. Intense cold lulls to\nsomnolency, instead of rousing to activity. The love of children, on\nwhich the preservation of the race depends, is absent with many; while\nwith others the sexual instinct undergoes strange and morbid\nmanifestations. A complete list of these disharmonies would fill a\nvolume--indeed, Metchnikoff, in his \"Nature of Man,\" has filled half a\nvolume with describing some of the instances of physiological\ndisharmony, and then has not exhausted the list.\n\nIt would indeed seem as if nature, with its method of never creating a\nnew organ or structure, but only transforming and utilising an old one,\nhad attached a penalty to every successful attempt to rise above a\ncertain level. If man will walk upright she sees to it that his doing so\nshall involve a great liability to hernia. If he will live in cities,\nshe has ready the ravage of consumption. If he will use clothing she\nmakes him carry round a coating of useless hair as a method of trapping\ndisease microbes. So soon as one disease is conquered another is\ndiscovered. Pleasures have their reverse side in pains, and to some\npains the pleasures bear a small relation, being chiefly of the\ncharacter of the pains being absent. As a social animal man is only\nimperfectly adapted to the state, there going on a constant warfare\nbetween his egoistic and altruistic impulses. In fact, it would\ncertainly be an arguable proposition, if we allow intention in nature,\nto say that man was intended to remain at the animal level, and that,\nhaving so far defeated nature's intention, he is dogged by a\ndisappointed creator, and made to pay the fullest price that can be\nexacted for every step of progress achieved.\n\nOf course, of proof of design in nature there is positively none.\nDesign, as I have said, is not a natural fact, but a purely human\nconstruction. But, if admitted, it is a two edged weapon. For, if\nassumed anywhere, it must be assumed to exist everywhere. And designing\nintelligence must be made responsible for the whole scheme. But this the\nmost extravagant piety refuses to do. Either we have the primitive\ntheory of a devil who divides with God the responsibility for the state\nof the world, or we have the plea that evil may be only good disguised,\nor good in the making, or it is argued that we have to contemplate the\n\"plan\" as a whole, and must wait for some future state to pass judgment.\nAnd whichever view we take, there is the implied admission that the plan\nof creation as we know it cannot be harmonised with the theory of God\nthat modern theism places before us. And instead of man being the\nmiracle of perfection that an earlier generation saw in his structure,\nwe know that the human structure is such that, given the power to\ncreate, science could really fashion, in the light of its present\nknowledge, a better organism.\n\nFinally, disharmony is implied in and necessitated by the very fact of\nprogress. Progress means a better adjustment, and the discomfort of\nmaladjustment is the spur to improvement. A perfect equilibrium is as\nimpossible as perpetual motion, and it is only with a perfect\nequilibrium that change, which is the condition of progress, would\ncease. The ceaseless desire for something better is, therefore, in\nitself an impeachment of things as they are. It is an indication of\nthere being something wanting, of the existence of a want of complete\nharmony between man and his surroundings. Nor is the case of the theist\nbettered if he retorts that without the sense of imperfection or of\ndissatisfaction there would be no such thing as a conscious striving\nafter improvement. That may be admitted, but that is only proving that\nperfection can never be achieved, and that even in this last resort\n\"God\" has so designed things as to make a mock of man at the end. The\nwant of complete harmony that is seen in the physical structure of man\nis carried over into his mental life. If theism be true man is mocked by\na mirage. And the knowledge is made the more depressing by the belief\nthat the plan is not accidental, it is not a product of the working of\nnon-conscious forces, it is the preordained outcome of a plan that was\ndeliberately resolved on by a being with full power to devise some thing\nwiser and better. At the side of that, any theory of things is, by\ncomparison, hopeful and inspiring.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nGOD AND EVOLUTION.\n\n\nThere is no logical connection between what is called the \"Moral\ngovernment of the universe\" and the belief in God, but it must be\nconfessed that the criticism of the belief from the point of view of\nmoral feeling is of considerable importance. This is in itself a\nstriking illustration of the reaction of social developments on\nreligious beliefs. For there is originally no connection between\nmorality and the belief in God. Man does not believe in the gods because\nthey are moral, but because they are there. If they are, to his mind,\ngood, that is so much the better. But whether they are good or bad they\nhave to be faced as facts. The gods, in short belong to the region of\nbelief, while morality belongs to that of practice. It is in the nature\nof morality that it should be implicit in practice long before it is\nexplicit in theory. Morality belongs to the group and is rooted in\ncertain impulses that are a product of the essential conditions of group\nlife. It is as reflection awakens that men are led to speculate upon the\nnature and origin of the moral feelings. Morality, whether in practice\nor in theory, is thus based upon what is. On the other hand, religion,\nwhether it be true or false, is in the nature of a discovery. However\ncrude or uninformed the thinking, the belief in God must be regarded as\nthe product of reflection. The situation is not unfairly described by\nDr. Jastrow:--\n\n\n     The various rites practiced by primitive society in order to ward\n     off evils, or to secure the protection of dreaded powers or\n     spirits, are based primarily on logical considerations. If a\n     certain stone is regarded as sacred, it is probably because it is\n     associated with some misfortune, or some unusual piece of good\n     luck. Someone sitting on the stone may have died; or on sleeping on\n     it may have seen a remarkable vision, which was followed by a\n     signal victory over a dangerous foe.... In all this, however,\n     ethical considerations are remarkable for their absence.... Taking\n     again so common a belief among all peoples as the influence for\n     good or evil exerted by the dead upon the living and the numerous\n     practices to which it gives rise ... it will be difficult to\n     discover in these beliefs the faintest suggestion of any ethical\n     influence. It is not the good but the powerful spirits that are\n     invoked; an appeal to them is not made by showing them examples of\n     kindness, justice, or noble deeds, but by bribes, flatteries, and\n     threats. (_The Study of Religion_; Ch. VI.).\n\n\nSo we have Tylor also endorsing this opinion by remarking that, \"The\npopular idea that the moral government of the universe is an essential\ntenet of natural religion simply falls to the ground. Savage animism is\nalmost devoid of that ethical element which, to the educated, modern\nmind, is the very mainspring of religion.\" And Hoffding says that, \"In\nthe lowest forms of it with which we are acquainted religion cannot be\nsaid to have any ethical significance. The gods appear as powers on\nwhich man is dependent, but not as patterns of conduct or administrators\nof an ethical world order.... Not till men have discovered ethical\nproblems in practical life and have developed an ethical feeling ... can\nthe figures of the gods assume an ethical character.\" (\"Philosophy of\nReligion\"; pp. 323-4).\n\nIt is quite unnecessary to multiply evidence, the truth of the matter\nwould seem obvious. One cannot conceive man actually ascribing ethical\nqualities to his gods before he becomes sufficiently developed to\nformulate moral rules for his own guidance, and to create moral laws for\nhis fellow man. The moralisation of the gods will then follow as a\nmatter of course. And thereafter we can plainly observe the operation of\nthe moral sense on the belief in god, and upon the recognition of crude\npower. Man really modifies his gods in terms of the ideal human being.\nPaul's picture of a god who uses man as the potter uses his clay could\nnever flourish in a society which believed in the \"rights of man.\" And\nso soon as that conception developes so soon does man begin to revise\nhis conception of god. So with almost every great change in the form of\ngovernment or in the notions of right and wrong. In a slave state, God\nfavours slavery. When slavery gives place to another form of labour the\ngods are equally vigorous in its condemnation. The history of the belief\nin witch burning, heresy hunting, eternal damnation, etc., all\nillustrate the same point--religious teachings are all modified and\nmoralised in accordance with the changing moral conceptions of mankind.\nIt is not the gods who moralise man, it is man who moralises the gods.\n\nThe gods have their beginnings as mere powers. They are feared because\nthey are, not for the moral value of what they are. Social development\ndoes all the rest. But with that development the feeling of\nhelplessness, of weakness, decays and there arises the demand that if\ngod is to be worshipped he must prove worthy of it. The conviction\narises very gradually, but it is there, and it becomes a powerful\nsolvent of religious ideas. Merely to govern is not enough, God must\ngovern well, and in terms of what we have come to understand by the word\n\"Justice.\" And to the minds of millions of moderns, when tried by that\ntest the idea of god breaks down. That there is a god who rules the\nuniverse is one question; that he rules it well and in accord with what\nis understood when we talk of morality, is quite another. The two\nquestions are quite distinct since the first might be true and the\nsecond false. We have already seen how slender are the grounds for\nbelieving in the first; we have now to show that the reasons for\nbelieving in the second are quite as unsatisfactory.\n\nTheism has been defined as consisting in the belief in a God who is\nwise, powerful, and loving, and who has selected man as the object of\nhis preferential care, and to this may be added the statement that most\nmodern theists would extend that care to the whole of sentient life.\n\"God's care\" must be \"over all his creatures,\" and although this care\nmay be subservient to some wide and far-seeing plan, there must be\nnothing that looks like obvious carelessness or criminal neglect.\n\nTo what conclusion do the facts point when they are examined in the\nlight of modern knowledge? Does the world supply us with the kind of\npicture that one would expect to see if it were really presided over by\ndivine love under the guidance of divine wisdom, and backed by divine\npower? The proof that it does not is shown in the almost endless\nattempts made to harmonise the world as it is with the world as theory\nwould have it be. And a theory that needs so much defending, explaining,\nand qualifying must have something radically weak about it. That there\nis evil in the world all admit, that it offers _prima facie_ objection\nto the theistic hypothesis is confessed by the many attempts made to fit\nin this evil with the existence of God, to prove that it works in some\nmysterious way for some larger good, or that its presence cannot be\ndispensed with profitably. The question of why the world is as it is\nwith a god such as we are told exists, is, as Canon Green says, \"the\nreally vital question, for it touches the very heart of religion.\" (\"The\nProblem of Evil\"; p. 46.) How, then, does the Theist deal with it?\n\nBroadly, two methods are adopted. In the one case we are presented with\nthe order of the world, or the course of evolution, as indicative of a\nbeneficent scheme. This claims to freely adopt all that science has to\nsay concerning the development of life and to prove that this is in\nharmony with the legitimate demands of the moral sense. The second is\nthe more orthodox way, and taking the world as it is, claims that pain\nand suffering play a disciplinary and educational part in the life of\nthe individual. We will take these in the order named.\n\nWhen dealing with the argument from design little was said concerning\nthe evolutionary explanation of the special adaptations that meet us in\nthe animal world. It was thought better to fix attention on the purely\nlogical value of the argument presented. It is now necessary to look a\nlittle closer at the ethical implications of the evolutionary process.\n\nIt has been pointed out that all life involves a special degree of\nadaptation between an organism and its environment. Destroy that\nadjustment and life ceases to exist. How is that adjustment secured? The\nanswer of the pre-Darwinian was that it represented a deliberate design\non the part of God. Against this Darwinism propounds a theory of\nautomatic or mechanical adjustment which makes the calling in of deity\naltogether gratuitous. And it remains gratuitous, no matter how far the\nscope of the theory of natural selection may be modified. But given the\ncontinuous variations which we know to exist with all kinds of life,\ngiven any sort of competition between animals as to which shall live,\ngiven even a degree of adaptation below which an animal cannot fall and\nlive, and it is at once plain that the better adaptations will live and\nthe poorer adapted will be eliminated. This process is analogous to that\nby which man has managed to breed so many varieties of domesticated\nanimals and plants, some of the varieties presenting so marked a\ndifference from the original type that if found in a state of nature\nthey would often be classed as a distinct species. Man _selects_ the\nvariation that pleases him, eliminates or segregates the type that does\nnot, and by following up the process eventually produces a distinct and\nfixed variation. It was because of the likeness of what goes on in the\ncase of the breeder to what we see actually going on in nature that\nDarwin used the phrase \"Natural Selection\" as descriptive of the\nprocess. It was not an exact phrase, and it was not meant to be exact.\nFor one thing--a very important thing, while a breeder selects, nature\neliminates. Man's action, in relation to the type preserved, is\npositive. Nature's attitude in relation to the type preserved is\nnegative. This is a very important distinction; and it is one that is\nfatal to the claims of theism. For if it points to a plan in nature it\npoints to one that aims at killing off all that can be killed, and only\nsparing those who are able to protect themselves against its attack. And\none is left wondering at the type of mind which can see goodness and\nwisdom in a plan that goes, on generation, after generation\nmanufacturing an inferior or defective type in enormous numbers in order\nthat a few superior specimens may be found, these in their turn to\nbecome inferior by the arrival of some other specimens a little more\nfortunate in their endowment. One hardly knows at which to marvel the\nmost--at the clumsiness of the plan, or at the brutality of the design.\n\nIt was soon realised that the old argument from design was no longer\npossible. But if one can only get far enough away from the possibility\nof proof or disproof there is always a chance for the Goddite. So it was\nargued that inasmuch as natural selection meant the emergence of a\n\"higher\" type, and as there was no room for design within the process,\nmight not the process itself be an expression of design? There might\nstill be room for what Huxley, with one of those foolish concessions to\nestablished opinion which is the bane of English thought, called the\n\"wider teleology.\" This was a teleology which placed a designing mind at\nthe back of the evolutionary process, and arranging it with a view to a\npreconceived end. The process then becomes, to use Spencer's phrase, a\n\"beneficent\" one, since it eliminates the poorer specimens and leaves\nthe better ones to perpetuate the species. We are thus asked to imagine\na divine wisdom selecting the better and destroying the inferior much as\nan omniscient Eugenist might destroy at birth all human beings of an\nundesirable type.\n\nThe weakness of the thesis lies primarily in the fact that in the case\nof the breeder he has to take the animal as he finds it, subject to the\nplay of forces, the characteristics of which are determined for him. He\nhas to make the best of the situation. In the case of the deity he\ncreates the animals with which he is assumed to be experimenting, he\ncreates the forces with all their qualities, and thus determines the\nnature of the situation. Quite certainly no breeder would waste his time\nin breeding over a number of generations if he could secure the desired\ntype at once. The whole of the argument of the advocate of the wider\nteleology is that God wanted the higher type. But if that is so why did\nhe not produce it at once? What useful purpose could be served by\nproducing at the end of a lengthy and murderous process what might just\nas well have been secured at the beginning? It is not wisdom but\nunadulterated stupidity to take thousands of years securing what might\nhave been as well done in the twinkling of an eye.\n\nThere is, in short, no justification in the creation of a process so\nlong as the end at which the process is aiming can be reached by a less\ntortuous method. As Mr. F. C. S. Schiller says:--\n\n\n     So long as we are dealing with finite factors, the function of pain\n     and the nature of evil can be more or less understood, but as soon\n     as it is supposed to display the working of an infinite power\n     everything becomes wholly unintelligible. We can no longer console\n     ourselves with the hope that \"good becomes the final goal of ill,\"\n     we can no longer fancy that imperfection serves any secondary\n     purpose in the economy of the universe. A process by which evil\n     _becomes_ good is unintelligible as the action of a truly infinite\n     power which can attain its end without a process; it is absurd to\n     ascribe imperfection as a secondary result to a power which can\n     attain all its aims _without_ evil. Hence the world process, and\n     the intelligent purpose we fancy we detect in it must be\n     illusory.... God can have no purpose, and the world cannot be in\n     process.... If the world is the product of an infinite power it is\n     utterly unknowable, because its process and its nature would be\n     alike unnecessary and unaccountable. (_Riddles of the Sphinx_; pp.\n     318-19).\n\n\nBesides, as I have already pointed out, in the process as it meets us in\nnature there is not a selection for preservation, but a selection for\nkilling. With the breeder preservation is primary. It is of no value to\nhim to kill, it is the preservation of a desired type that is all\nimportant. In nature, so far as we can see, the whole aim is to destroy.\nIt is not the fittest that are preserved so much as it is the unfittest\nthat are killed. The fittest are left alive for no other apparent reason\nthan that nature is unable to kill them. The truth of this is seen in\nthe fact that where there is no death there is no evolution of a\n\"higher\" type. In the case of diseases that kill there is a gradual\ndevelopment of an immune type--which introduces the paradox that the\nhealthiest diseases from which a race may suffer are those that are most\ndeadly. Where a disease does not kill there is no development against\nit. It is the winnowing fan of death that makes for the development of\nanimal life. And the correct picture of nature--if we must picture an\nintelligence behind it--would be that of an intelligence aiming at\nkilling all, and only failing in its purpose because the natural\nendowment of some placed them beyond its power.\n\nAnd, without examining the question begging word \"higher,\" it may be\nsaid that natural selection does not make for the uniform covering of\nthe earth with representatives of higher types. If in some parts of the\nworld the higher have replaced the lower types, elsewhere the lower have\nreplaced the higher. Natural selection, in fact, works without reference\nto whether the form which survives is \"higher\" or \"lower.\" All that\nmatters is adaptation. The germ of malaria renders whole tracts of the\nearth uninhabitable to those whom we consider representative of the\nhigher culture. In other parts an alteration of the rainfall may crush\nout a civilisation, and leave a handful of nomadic tribes as the sole\ndenizens of lands where once a lofty civilisation flourished. Throughout\nthe whole of nature there is never the slightest indication that forces\noperate with the slightest reference to what we are accustomed to\nconsider the higher interests of the race.\n\nMoreover, from the standpoint of an apologetic theism, we are entitled\nto ask precisely what is meant by this justification of the evolutionary\nprocess in terms of the production of a higher type. The justification\nof a painful or a costly experience by an individual is two-fold. First,\nit is the only way, perhaps, in which certain things may be learned or\naccomplished, and, second, it is the individual who passes through the\nexperience who benefits thereby. But suppose a person entered on a\ncourse of training with the absolute certainty that he would never\nsurvive it. Should we be justified in forcing the course on him?\nClearly not. The whole would be regarded as a wasted effort and as an\nexhibition of gratuitous cruelty.\n\nNow when we look closely at this evolutionary process, who is it that\nbenefits thereby? In a vague way we speak of the race benefiting. But\nthe race is made up of individuals, and while it may be said the\nindividual benefits from the experience through which the race has\npassed, it cannot be truthfully said that he is the better because he\nhas gained from experience. He does not pass through the discipline, he\nsimply registers, so to speak, the result. And, therefore, so far as he\nis concerned, he is exactly in the position that the first man would\nhave been had he possessed the endowment, social, and individual, which\nthe present man has. There is no greater fallacy than that contained in\nthe common saying that man learns through experience. Individually, so\nfar as civilisation is concerned, that is not true. Were it true,\ncivilisation would be impossible. If each man had to start where our\nprimitive ancestors started, and learn from experience, we should end\nwhere the first generation of socialised human beings ended, and the\ngenerations of men would represent an endless series of first steps to\nwhich there would be no second ones. What the individual learns from\nexperience is very little and would never serve to lift him from out the\nranks of savagery. What he learns from the experience of the race is\nmuch, and gives the whole distinction between the civilised man and the\nsavage. It is the discipline of the race, that experience which meets\neach of us in the form of traditions, counsels, institutions, etc.,\nfrom which we get the really vital lessons of life. But if that is so\nthe attempted justification of natural processes on the ground that God\ndesigned them as they are so that man might learn from experience breaks\ndown. The individual does not so learn, but is presented with the\nproducts of the experience of others, and which he accepts in the vast\nmajority of cases without even putting it to the test. And, therefore,\nthe method by which man learns was open from the start. Had there been\nsome _man_ who could have told us generations ago all that has been\nslowly discovered since, we should all have been the better for it, and\nwe should have learned then exactly as we have learned since. And if God\nwas really anxious to teach us, what possible objection could there be\nto his teaching us in some such way? In other words, how can we justify\nthe process if the result is possible by any other method?\n\nThe standpoint of the theist is that God develops the species in order\nto benefit the individual. But the order is that the individual is\nsacrificed to benefit the species--so far as any benefit can be traced.\nFor it must be noted that it is not the individual who has passed\nthrough all the suffering, who has lived through the years of\nsemi-animal life, or through the years of tyranny, that finally emerges\nstrengthened and triumphant. It is a different individual altogether.\nThe greatest benefit is secured by those who come latest, and who have\ndone the least to secure it. The reward bears no relation to the\npersonal desert. And at the end what happens? If we are to be guided by\nthe lessons of science, we must believe that one day the human race\nwill cease to exist, just as certainly as one day it began to exist.\nAnd what are we to think of the almighty wisdom and goodness which is\nresponsible for all? An almighty intelligence designs a process to\nproduce a perfect animal through the sufferings of myriads of other\nanimals. It takes thousands and thousands of generations to complete the\nprocess, and meantime every year is bringing the whole plan nearer to\nextinction. Divine wisdom! Anything nearer complete stupidity and\nfutility it would be difficult to conceive.\n\nI know that at this point it will be said that I am leaving out of\naccount the future life, and that the story of human growth is to be\ncontinued elsewhere. But that will certainly not meet all that has been\nsaid above. And it is a curious manner of meeting an objection based\nupon the only phase of existence that we know with assurance to tell us\nthat our indictment will receive a complete refutation in another state\nof existence of which we know nothing at all. The reply is in itself an\nadmission of the truth of the charges. If life admitted of a moral\njustification here there would be no need to appeal to some other life\nin which these blemishes are made good. If some other life is needed to\ncorrect the moral abnormalities of this one, then the indictment of the\nAtheist is justified. And one is left again wondering why, if almighty\nintelligence could make all things straight in the next world, why the\nsame intelligence could not have made the necessary corrections in this\none.\n\nThe truth is that the God of the evolutionary process is as much a myth\nas is the god of special creation. He has all the blemishes of the other\none--one step removed. The Paleyan God had at least the merit of coming\nto close grips with his work. The evolutionary one shields himself\nbehind the fact that the work is done by his agents, and then it is\nfound that he created the agents for this special work and all that they\ndo is the product of the qualities with which he endowed them. If\nanything the evolutionary deity is more objectionable than the older\none. And if theists will examine nature candidly and with an open mind,\nthey will see that it is so. I do not know that anyone has drawn a more\ntruthful picture of natural processes as they appear from the point of\nview of being the product of a divine intelligence than has Mr. W. H.\nMallock, and his picture is the more deadly as coming from a champion of\ntheism. If, he says, theists will look the facts of the universe\nsteadily in the face:\n\n\n     What they will see will astonish them. They will see that if there\n     is anything at the back of this vast process, with a consciousness\n     and a purpose in any way resembling our own--a being who knows what\n     he wants and is doing his best to get it--he is instead of a holy\n     and all-wise God, a scatter-brained, semi-powerful, semi-impotent\n     monster. They will recognise as clearly as they ever did the old\n     familiar facts which seemed to them evidences of God's wisdom,\n     love, and goodness; but they will find that these facts, when taken\n     in connection with the others, only supply us with a standard in\n     the nature of this Being himself by which most of his acts are\n     exhibited to us as those of a criminal madman. If he had been\n     blind, he had not sin; but if we maintain that he can see, then his\n     sin remains. Habitually a bungler as he is, and callous when not\n     actively cruel, we are forced to regard him, when he seems to\n     exhibit benevolence, as not divinely benevolent, but merely weak\n     and capricious, like a boy who fondles a kitten and the next moment\n     sets a dog at it, and not only does his moral character fall from\n     him bit by bit but his dignity disappears also. The orderly\n     processes of the stars and the larger phenomena of nature are\n     suggestive of nothing so much as a wearisome Court ceremonial\n     surrounding a king who is unable to understand or to break away\n     from it; whilst the thunder and whirlwind, which have from time\n     immemorial been accepted as special revelations of his awful power\n     and majesty, suggest, if they suggest anything of a personal\n     character at all, merely some blackguardly larrikin kicking his\n     heels in the clouds, not perhaps bent on mischief, but indifferent\n     to the fact that he is causing it....\n\n     The truth is, if we consider the universe as a whole, it fails to\n     suggest a conscious and purposive God at all; and it fails to do so\n     not because the processes of evolution as such preclude the idea\n     that a God might have made use of them for a definite purpose, but\n     because when we come to consider these processes in detail, and\n     view them in the light of the only purposes they suggest, we find\n     them to be such that a God who could deliberately have been guilty\n     of them would be a God too absurd, too monstrous, too mad to be\n     credible. (_Religion as a Credible Doctrine_; pp. 176-8).\n\n\nAs we have already seen, the attempt to find a plan in the processes of\nevolution breaks down hopelessly. On analysis, the supposed plan turns\nout to be nothing more than a perception of some sort of regularity, and\nas regularity is an inescapable condition of existence, all that it\nproves _is_ existence. On that point there is no dispute. And the moral\njustification of the cosmic process while intellectually indefensible,\nadds an element of moral repulsion. That the process as we know it is\nmorally repugnant is shown by the appeal to the future, the request to\nsuspend judgment till such time as the plan is completed, when it is\nhoped that the end will justify the means. God, it is trusted, will\njustify himself in the future. But in his anxiety to impress upon us\nthe fact that God has a moral future the theist forgets that he has had\na past, and that past is a black one. The uncounted generations of\nsuffering in the past is not to be compensated by a probable happiness\nin the future. The myriads of organisms that have lived incomplete\nlives, and ended them in deaths of suffering are not cancelled by the\nprobability that at some time, still in the future, a comparatively\nsmall number will lead lives of happiness. The record is there, \"there\nis blood upon the hand,\" and not all the apologies of a self-convicted\nanimism can ever wipe it clean.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nTHE PROBLEM OF PAIN.\n\n\nThe problem of how to harmonise the existence of a God as believers\npicture him to be with a world such as experience discloses, is as old\nas theology. And the problem will disappear only when theology is given\nup as an aggregate of question begging words and gratuitous hypotheses\nbased upon a foundation of primitive ignorance and inherited delusion.\nFor the majority of those questions that are properly called theological\nare not of the necessary order. Questions such as those connected with\nthe mutations of matter, the development of life, the growth of society,\nor the nature and clash of human passions cannot be evaded. They are\npresent in the facts themselves. But the problems of theology are\nself-created; they arise out of certain beliefs, and have no existence\napart from those beliefs. They are the joint product of beliefs which\nare wholly useless, in conflict with facts with which they cannot be\nsquared.\n\nWhat is known as \"The Problem of Evil\" is an apt illustration of the\ntruth of what has been said. Here there is created a problem which is\nnot alone quite gratuitous, but it succeeds in inverting the real\nquestion at issue. For unless we accept the world as the product of a\ngood and wise God, there is no problem of evil for us to explain. The\nproblem of evil is, given such a deity, how to account for the existence\nof evil, or, if it exists, how account for its continuance. The problem\nis created by the theory. Dismiss the theory and no problem is left.\nAnd it is in line with what is done in other directions, that, having\ncreated the difficulty, the theist should present it to the non-theist\nas one of the questions that he must answer.\n\nIn reality there is no problem of evil in connection with ethics. The\nethical problem is not the existence of evil, but the emergence of good;\nnot, that is, why do men do wrong, but why do they do right. That life\nshould cease to be is not at all wonderful, but that with so many\npotential dangers around the organism, the actions of living beings\nshould become so automatically adapted to their surroundings as to shun\nthe actions which destroy life, and perform such actions as maintain\nit--at least, to such an extent as secures the preservation of the\nspecies--may well arouse surprise and give birth to enquiry. So with the\nquestion of evil and suffering in the world. That these exist is\nundeniable, but the enquiry they suggest is only on all fours with the\nenquiry suggested by any other natural fact, while the ethical problem\ncentres, not around the existence of wrong action, but around the\nemergence of right conduct. It is the evolution of happiness that forms\nthe kernel of the ethical problem, not the evolution of pain.\n\nThe earlier form of the Christian apologetic took the form of a\ndualistic theory of the world. There were two powers, God and the devil,\nand between them they shared the responsibility for all good and evil.\nSo far, good. But this was clearly saving the goodness of God at the\nexpense of his omnipotence. Moreover, if God was to be thought of as the\ncreator of the universe, the theory, as Mill said, paid him the\ndoubtful compliment of making him the creator of Satan, and, therefore,\nthe creator of evil once removed. Or, if not, God and the devil were\nleft as rival monarchs quarrelling over a territory that appeared to\nexist apart from and independent of either.\n\nBut nowadays the devil has gone out of fashion. Very few of the clergy\never mention him, and although an attempt was made to reinstate him some\nyears ago by the author of \"Evil and Evolution,\" the endeavour was a\nfailure. And bereft of the convenient scapegoat, the devil, the present\nday theist is compelled to attempt an apology for evil that will appeal\nto natural and verifiable facts for confirmation, or which must, at\nleast, not be in conflict with them. If theism is to stand, a place and\na meaning must be found for the evil in the world, and found in such a\nway that it either relieves God of the responsibility for its existence\nor its being can be shown to harmonise with his assumed character. It is\nno longer possible to fall back on Paul's position that the potter is at\nliberty to doom one pot to honour and the other to dishonour. The moral\nresponsibility for the kind of pots he turns out cannot be so easily\nevaded. As Professor Sorley says, \"If ethical theism is to stand, the\nevil in the world cannot be referred to God in the same way as the good\nis referred to him.\" Somehow, he must be relieved of the responsibility\nfor its existence, or a purpose for it must be found.\n\nNow, curiously enough, modern theists hover between the two positions.\nProfessor Sorley, representing one position, says that the only way to\navoid referring evil to God is by \"the postulate of human freedom.\"\n(\"Moral Values and the Idea of God,\" p. 469.) This is also the way out\nadopted by Canon Green in \"The Problem of Evil,\" and it turns upon a\nmere play on words. Thus, Canon Green says that there is one thing God\ncould not do. \"He could not force him to be good, i.e., to choose virtue\nfreely, for the idea of forcing a free being to choose involves a\ncontradiction.\" And Professor Sorley says more elaborately that \"things\noccur in the universe which are not due to God's will, although they\nmust have happened with his permission ... a higher range of power and\nperfection is shown in the creation of free beings than in the creation\nof beings whose every thought and action are pre-determined by their\nCreator,\" and while he admits there is limitations to man's power of\nchoice, he holds that there is one form of choice that is always there,\nand that is the choice of good and evil. (\"Moral Values and the Idea of\nGod,\" pp. 469-70.)\n\nIn all this one can see little more than verbal confusion. To commence\nwith Canon Green, which will also cover much that Prof. Sorley says on\nthe same point. When we are told man must choose virtue freely in order\nthat what he does shall partake of the character of morality, it is\nplain that he is using the word \"forced\" in two senses. In the one sense\nforce may mean no more than a determinant. Thus we may say that our\nsympathies _force_ us to act in such and such a way. Or the religious\nman may say that the love of God forces him to act in such and such a\nmanner. Force here means any consideration that will lead to action, and\nno one can object to its use in this sense.\n\nA second meaning of force is that of compulsion from without, as when a\nstrong man gets hold of a weak one and by exertion of physical strength\ncompels him to do something that he is disinclined to do, or when one\nforces another by threat of punishment. In this latter sense no one\ndreams of harmonising force with moral action. Neither law nor common\nsense does so. But compulsion in the sense of one's actions being forced\nby a mental or moral disposition no one outside an asylum would dispute.\nAnd what Canon Green does is to ask us to reject the idea of a moral\naction being forced, in the sense of external compulsion, and then uses\nit in the sense of an absence of dispositions that will lead to certain\ncourses of conduct.\n\nIt is probable that the Canon would reject this interpretation of his\nstatement, but if it does not mean this, then his argument is\nunintelligible. For if it is admitted that what man does is the product\nof his mental or moral dispositions, in other words, of his nature, and\nif, as is undeniable, the nature with which he fronts the world is the\nproduct of heredity and environment, he would no more be \"forced\" to do\ngood had God given him impulses strong enough to overcome all tendency\nto evil than he is now when his impulses come to him from his ancestors\nand his general social heredity.\n\nAll that is implied in a moral act is free choice. But choice is free,\nnot when it is independent of organic promptings; that is absurd; but\nwhen those organic promptings are allowed to find expression. There is\nno other rational meaning to \"choice\" than this. Choice does not tell us\nhow it is determined, on that point it can say nothing, any more than a\nchild can say why it chooses sugar in preference to cayenne pepper. Its\nchoice, we say, is determined by its taste. And its taste is determined\nby--? To answer that question we must call in the chemist and the\nphysiologist, and they probably will tell us why our choice moves in one\ndirection rather than in another.\n\nWhen men like Canon Green talk of the morality of an action being\ndependent upon our _choice_ between right and wrong, what they probably\nhave in their minds is the perception of right and wrong. For we may\nperceive the possibility of one course while we are performing another.\nBut the power of choice is clearly limited. A man cannot choose to be a\nmathematician, however much he may see the desirability of becoming one.\nAnd many a man may in the moral sphere see the advisability of his being\ndifferent in character from what he is, but may altogether lack the\ncapacity of becoming such. And the power of choice differs not only with\neach individual, but with the same individual at different times.\nFinally, the more fixed the character of the individual the less\nconscious he is of choice, or of a sense of freedom to do differently\nfrom what he actually does, and as this applies with equal force to\ncharacter, whether it be good or bad, we reach, finally, the suicidal\nposition that the more fundamentally moral a man becomes, the less moral\nhe is.[5]\n\nNow seeing that all our educational processes aim at making the good\ncharacter, so to speak, automatic, that is, to quite fill the mind with\nworthy motives and wise power of choice, and seeing also that a\ncharacter is good so far as this is done, will some one explain in what\nway moral character would have suffered had God so made man that he\nwould have had intelligence enough to always choose the good and reject\nthe bad? For, be it noted, the apology put forward for the present state\nof affairs is that man is in a state of probation, he is passing through\na course of moral discipline, and it is essential that he should\nexperience the possibility to do wrong, and even to occasionally do the\nwrong. And the end of the process of tuition is, what? The production of\na perfect being in whom there shall not be a proneness to do wrong, to\nwhose purified moral nature wrong doing shall be quite foreign. That is\nto say that we are to reach as a result of this long roundabout process,\nwith all its waste and bungling, just what might have been established\nat the beginning. For either the perfect moral being is without the\nquality which we have just been assured is essential to morality, or the\nwhole argument is reduced to nonsense.\n\nFor it is impossible to assume that the bad man chooses to be bad with a\nfull perception of the consequences of his actions, and at the same time\nwith the power to do otherwise. We all agree that the _right_ choice is\nultimately a _wise_ choice, and that if we could all trace out the\nconsequences of all we do, we should realise that it was to our real\ninterest to act rightly. And if that is admitted, it follows that the\n\"choice\" to do evil is the product of short-sightedness, or of some\ndefect of temperament which prevents our standing up against the\ntemptations of the moment. And our ethical education is mainly directed\nto making good this defect in our make up. But suppose that amount of\nwisdom or strength had been an endowment of our nature from the outset,\nis there any conceivable way in which we should have been the worse for\nit? For even as it is there are some people who do make a fairly wise\nand right choice, and whose high-water mark of excellence is not reached\nthrough the crime and folly of the revival meeting convert. Are they the\nworse because they have never yielded to evil? Is the naturally good man\nreally a less worthy character than the one whose comparative goodness\nis only reached through and after a lengthy course of evil living? And\nif not, in what way would the race have been worsened had we all been as\nfortunately circumstanced? If it was really God's purpose to have a race\nof men and women who should be both good and wise, it remains for the\ntheist to show in what way the plan would not have been as well served\nby making them at once with a sufficiency of intelligence to act in the\nreal interests of themselves and of all around them.\n\nComing closer to earth the theist attempts to find a justification for\nthe existing order of things by finding a use for pain and suffering in\ntheir educational influence on human nature, and in the impossibility of\naltering for the better the consequences of natural law.\n\nThe real question at issue, says one of the most eloquent of modern\ntheists, the late Dr. Martineau, is \"whether the laws of which complaint\nis made work such harm that they ought never to have been enacted; or\nwhether, in spite of occasional disasters in their path, the sentient\nexistence of which they are the conditions has in its history a vast\nexcess of blessing.\" (Study of Religion II., p. 91.) And Canon Green,\nwho uses some of Dr. Martineau's ideas without the latter's eloquence or\npower of reasoning, asks, \"If God were to say, 'You condemn me for this\nsuffering! Well, take my creative power and re-create the world to\nplease yourself and to suit your own sense of justice and mercy'\" could\nwe think out a world that should be better than this one? (Problem of\nEvil, p. 48.)\n\nNow both these methods of raising the question--and they are\nrepresentative of a whole group--serve but to confuse the issue. For no\none denies that some benefit may result from the present cosmical\nstructure. But that does not touch the complaint that the structure is\nnot such as fits in with the existence of a presiding intelligence such\nas theism asks us to accept. And the question of Canon Green's whether\nwe could turn out a better universe than the one that actually exists,\nis wide of the mark also. If I purchase a motor car as the work of a\ngenius in car-building, and find when I get my purchase home that it\ncannot be made to run, it does not destroy the justice of my complaint\nto ask whether I could build a better one or not. The important thing is\nthat the car is not what it should be, and judging by the product the\nbuilder is not what he is represented to be either. Dr. Martineau was\nfar too keen a controversialist to adopt Canon Green's foolish retort,\nbut he does seek to parry the force of the atheist criticism by saying\nthat God \"if once he commits his will to any determinate method, and for\nthe realisation of his ends selects and institutes a scheme of\ninstrumental rules, he thereby shuts the door on a thousand things that\nmight have been done before.\" (_Study_, p. 85). To that one may reply,\nso much the worse for his judgment; while if the fact of his having once\nadopted a \"determinate method\" caused him to resolve to stick to it, in\nspite of its consequences in practice, and irrespective of the\nbeneficial results that might have followed its modification, we can\nonly regret that the deity was not acquainted with Emerson's opinion\nthat \"a foolish consistency is the bugbear of little minds.\" Even what\nis said to be the greatest mind of all might easily have benefited from\nthe warning.\n\nCanon Green tries another line of reply, which is not in the least more\nconvincing. He pictures to us a father who, by misappropriating trust\nfunds, brings disgrace to the whole of his family. The mother is driven\nto despair and drink. The sister dies for want of food, the brother\nfinds his career ruined. The disaster is complete, and Canon Green says\nit is inevitable because we cannot have a world in which the relations\nof parents and children exist without having them suffer from each\nother's faults. So far as the present world goes that is true. But it is\ncertainly a strange reply to the complaint that an arrangement is unjust\nto say that as the injustice results from the arrangement, therefore, we\nhave no cause for complaint. And that _we_ are unable to make a better\nworld is beside the mark. Between the perception of an injustice, and\nthe ability to remove it there is a world of difference, and although we\nmay be unable to remedy the defect the defect remains.\n\nBut, indeed, human nature does try to produce a world in which such\nhappenings as those depicted shall either not occur or their\nconsequences shall be reduced to a minimum. We do not hang a son for\nhis parents' crime, nor do humane people blame children for the\nshortcomings of their parents. To some extent we try to correct the\nconsequences that follow, and even though the endeavour be futile, that\nis in itself an indictment of the existing order. Man does at least try\nto correct the injustices his God is said to have created.\n\nIt is overlooked also that the evils which follow from wrong actions are\nnot confined to those immediately connected, and who may conceivably\nhave their resentment to some extent dulled, if not lessened, by that\nfact. People in no way connected, and who can have no perception of the\ncause of their suffering, who are unconscious of everything, save the\none fact that they are suffering, feel its consequences. When a great\nwar spreads devastation all over the world, can it be said that any\nuseful purpose is served by the sufferings of millions who are not in\nthe slightest degree aware of the cause of their agony? When a shady\nfinancial operation brings an innocent man to ruin, and effects all the\nconsequences which Canon Green imagines resulting from the defaulting\nparent, how can it be said that the catastrophe admits of ethical\njustification? In many cases the thought of the injury experienced acts\nitself as a fresh cause of degradation. It creates a rankling and a\nbitterness which depresses and inhibits the power to struggle, unless it\nbe the desire to struggle for revenge against a condition of things of\nwhich the evil results are only too apparent. People are not merely\npunished for the evil they do; they are punished for the evil that\nothers do, and the punishment, so far as we can see, bears no observable\nrelation to the wrong done. There is no _ethical_ relation between\nactions and consequences. Not alone is the incidence of an action\ndependent upon personal qualities--some will suffer more from having\naccidentally told an untruth than others will suffer from having\ncommitted gross and deliberate fraud--but nature is absolutely careless\nof whether what I do is motived by good or bad intentions. If I get a\nwetting through going out to help some one in distress, the consequences\nwill be exactly the same as though I had got wet going out to commit a\nburglary or a murder. And when Dr. Martineau talks of the \"natural\npenalties for guilt,\" and adds that \"sin being there, it would be simply\nmonstrous that there should be no suffering and would fully justify the\ndespair which now raises its sickly cry of complaint against the\nretributory wretchedness of human transgression\" (_Study_ II., p. 106),\nthe reply is that there are no such things as \"_natural_ penalties for\nguilt.\" There are only consequences of actions, and they are the same\nwhatever be the moral quality of the actions performed. In the same way\nthat nature may in the course of an earthquake destroy the homes of a\ndozen worthy families and leave a gambling hell untouched, so it will in\nother directions punish where a man, from good intentions, places\nhimself in the path of punishment, and refrain from afflicting one whose\nselfishness or greed has guarded him against attack. There are natural\nconsequences of actions, there are no natural penalties for guilt, and\nthere are no natural rewards for innocence. Rewards and penalties are\nthe creation of man, and it is only in the form of a figure of speech\nthat we can apply them to nature.\n\nIt is equally idle to speak of pain as a form of discipline. Professor\nSorley says that if the pain in the world can be turned to the increase\nof goodness, then its existence offers no insuperable objection to \"the\nethical view of reality.\" So Dr. Martineau says that suffering is \"the\nmoral discipline\" through which our nature arrives at its \"true\nelevation.\" It is needless to multiply quotations; such statements are\nthe commonplaces of theistic controversy, and almost any book that one\ncares to pick up will supply further illustrations, if they be required.\nNone can reject them, because no theist can afford to candidly admit\nthat the world we know offers no justification for his belief. The\nbelief in the goodness of God, as Canon Green says, is a belief that is\n\"absolutely fundamental to all religion,\" and if the facts as we see\nthem do not support the belief, some apology must be found that will\nmarry the theory to the fact.\n\nNevertheless, the belief in the disciplinary power of pain or suffering\nis, if not quite illusory, so nearly so that it is useless for the\npurpose for which it is brought forward. In the first place, it does not\nrequire very profound study to see that whatever are the lessons taught\nby suffering they are seldom proportionate to the conduct which cause\nthem, nor do those who suffer reap the alleged disciplinary benefit of\ntheir suffering. Let us take a common case. A mother goes out and leaves\na child near an unguarded fire. The mother returns to find the child\nburned to death. Where is the discipline here? Certainly the child\ncannot have gained any. But there is, of course, the mother. The mother\nhas learned such a lesson that she will never forget it, and will never\nagain commit the same blunder. There we have it. A child is allowed to\ndie by a hideously cruel death in order that a mother may learn a lesson\nin carefulness. It is good to learn from other sources that God's ways\nare not our ways. A man who tried to imitate them, and who burned one of\nhis children in order to teach its mother how to look after the rest,\nwould soon find himself in the criminal court, or in an asylum. But what\nwould be insanity or criminal cruelty in the case of man, becomes, in\nthe alembic of religious apologetic, goodness and wisdom in God.\n\nThe theory that it is the function of pain to elevate and to discipline\nis simply not true. One has only to look to see that in countless cases\nthe effect of pain is disaster. The world's best work is not born of\npain but of pleasure. There is no pain and no suffering, there is hardly\neven toil, in the work of a genius. In all the higher walks of music, of\nart, of literature, the work is perfect in proportion as the worker\nfinds himself in agreeable and pleasant surroundings. And what is true\nof the higher aspect of art is true also of life in general. Life may be\nlived in spite of pain, as good work may be done in spite of\ndiscouraging circumstances, but one might as well talk of a plant\nflourishing because of poor soil, or sharp frosts, as to speak of life\nbecoming better because of pain.\n\nThe normal function of pain is to depress, that of pleasure is to\nheighten. As Spencer said, every pain lowers the tide of life; every\npleasure raises the tide of life. It is one of the commonest of sights\nto see those suffering from illness becoming more self-centred, less\ncareful of others, and to see the disintegrating consequences of\ndisease on character. Here and there one may find a character that has\nhad its rough edges smoothed down by suffering, but for every case of\nthat kind one may find a score of an opposite order. It is not the\nunderfed, badly clothed, neglected child that is likely to make the best\ncitizen, but the one that has the best chance of developing itself in\nhealthy surroundings. And it is a curious commentary, if it were true,\nto argue that a good and wise God so arranged things that pain and\nsuffering, even undeserved suffering, should be the main way for the\ndevelopment of character.\n\nA strange but not uncommon argument is used by Canon Green in dealing\nwith the suffering incidental to the various disasters that overtake\nmankind from time to time. Suffering, he says, has a certain element of\nmartyrdom about it. Even evils due to human greed and carelessness bring\nsome benefit in their train. Thus, apropos of the _Titanic_ disaster:--\n\n\n     Every such disaster tends to produce some improvement for future\n     generations. Shipowners are forced to supply more boats, wireless\n     instalment is required on all ships; the idle rich are led to think\n     less of saving useless time and more of saving lives, their own and\n     those of men in the stokeholds. In a sense those who perish may be\n     said to be unwilling martyrs who by their deaths purchase some\n     advantage for others. It will be said that it is a great price to\n     pay for a small advantage, and one which might have been cheaply\n     gained in some other ways. That is so. But so too the ways of\n     nature are cruel. So many seeds must be sown, so many young animals\n     or birds or fishes born, so many must be trampled out of existence,\n     that only the best may survive. (_Problem of Evil_; pp. 163-4).\n\n\nThat certainly puts all the owners of slum property, all the grasping\nshipowners, all those who batten and fatten on other people's welfare in\na most favourable light. We have been thinking them almost criminals\nwhen they were in reality public benefactors. They lead to many\nimprovements, and even though the improvements come too late to benefit\nthose who suffer from the evils, yet they do come--sometimes. Certainly\nit might give some comfort if the sufferers knew what it was they were\nbeing sacrificed for, and that others would be benefited by their death.\nBut they do not, and we are therefore bound to conclude that whatever\nsatisfaction is felt is by those who survive. When a _Titanic_ sinks it\nmust be the people on shore who see the element of goodness in it since\nit makes travelling easier for _them_. And the kindness developed in one\nwho can excuse the brutalities of nature because it brings some benefit\nto himself is of a rather startling nature.\n\nThe fundamental fault in all reasoning of this order lies in the\nassumption that pain ceases to be pain if it can be shown to bring good\nto _some_ one. But that it not so. Pleasure and pain are not\nquantitative things, increments of which can be carried on from\ngeneration to generation and a balance struck at the end, much as one\nstrikes a balance between the profits and losses of a year's trading.\nAll suffering and all enjoyment are of necessity personal. Suffering is\nnot increased by extending it over a million instances. There was not\nmore pain because a larger number happened to be be killed in the\nEuropean war than are killed in a borderland skirmish. There were a\nlarger _number_ of people involved in the one case than in the other,\nbut that is all. Multiplying the number of cases makes a greater appeal\nto a sluggish imagination, but it adds nothing substantial to the fact.\nFeeling, whether it be pleasant or painful, is a matter of individual\nexperience, and that being so it is not the number of people who suffer\nthrough no fault of their own, and, so far as one can see, without any\nbenefit proportionate to the suffering experienced, but the fact of\nthere being this suffering at all. That is the point the theist must\nface; it is the one point he systematically avoids.\n\nAnother form of the same argument meets us in the familiar plea that\nbodily pain \"sounds the alarm bell of disease in time for its removal.\"\nIn some sense it may be admitted that a painful feeling, in certain\ncircumstances, does act as a warning that persistence will lead to\ndisaster. But it is not universally true in the sense and in the degree\nthat is needed to justify the argument, and it is a \"warning\" out of all\nproportion to the danger faced. In the first place, pain cannot be a\nwarning against disease, it can only be an indication of its presence.\nIt does not warn us against the dangers of a contemplated course of\nconduct, nor can it tell us what conduct has led to the pain\nexperienced. And in the case of contagious diseases, what amount of\nwarning is there given? In some case the victim is stricken and is dead\nin so short a time as not to know with what it is he has been afflicted,\nand certainly without any chance of being warned. What warning is there\nin the case of a violent poison? Or what relation is there between pains\nfelt and dangers run? The most dangerous diseases may have painless\nbeginnings, and be well rooted in the system before the victim is\ndriven by discomfort to seek medical advice. On the other hand, a corn\nor a toothache, neither of them very deadly ailments, create pain out of\nall proportion to their gravity. And if we take the case of excessive\ncold we have here an instance where instead of pain acting as a warning,\nthe danger just acts as an anaesthetic. The victim is oppressed by\ndrowsiness, sinks into insensibility, finally death. Here it is not the\napproach of death that is painful, but the return to life, the pain of\nrestoring circulation being very severe indeed.\n\nFear, which may be classed as a species of pain, appears to act, in the\nmajority of instances, as an enemy, rather than as a friend to the\nanimal experiencing it. Thus Professor Mosso points out that in the\nanimal organism there exists a number of harmful reactions that increase\nin number the graver the peril becomes. We have all read of the\n\"fascination\" of the bird by the serpent, and there are other animals\nthat in the presence of an enemy become so palsied with fear as to\nbecome incapable of defence, even that of flight. And with man it is not\nas the danger becomes most acute that his nerves become steadier and his\ncourage firmer. The opposite is probably more often the case. In all\nthese cases it is as though nature had lured the animal or man into a\nposition of grave danger, and then does its best to divest him of\nadequate means of defence against it.\n\nCommon sense revolts against the doctrine that pain is a good thing, and\nthe fact of this is everywhere seen in the attempt of man to get rid of\nit. No one trusts it as a sure warning against disease, no one turns to\nit as a means of purifying character. All these pleas are the mere\nplatitudes of a religious apologetic trying to harmonise a primitive\ntheory of things with a larger knowledge and a more developed moral\nsense. Pain and suffering in the world remain facts whether we believe\nin the existence of a God or not, but we are at least freed from the\nparalysing horror of the belief that all the suffering and pain in\nnature is part of a plan. If man realised all that that belief involved\nit might indeed rob his mind of all strength to struggle against the\nforces that make for his destruction. Fortunately no race of people\ncould act upon the logical implications of the theistic theory and\nmaintain its existence. In practice, as well as in theory, theism has\nhad to come to terms with facts. And now the series of adjustments have\nalmost reached their end. The belief in God has been traced to its\norigin, and we know it to have issued in an altogether discredited view\nof the world and of man. We know that man does not discover God, he\ninvents him, and an invention is properly discarded when a better\ninstrument is forthcoming. To-day the hypothesis of God stands in just\nthe same relation to the better life of to-day as the fire drill of the\nsavage does to the modern method of obtaining a light. The belief in God\nmay continue awhile in virtue of the lack of intelligence of some, of\nthe carelessness of others, and of the conservative character of the\nmass. But no amount of apologising can make up for the absence of\ngenuine knowledge, nor can the flow of the finest eloquence do aught but\nclothe in regal raiment the body of a corpse.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[5] I have discussed this question at length in my \"Determinism or Free\nWill.\"\n\n\n\n\nPart II.\n\nSUBSTITUTES FOR ATHEISM.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nA QUESTION OF PREJUDICE.\n\n\nIt affords some ground for surprise that there should be so great a\nresentment shown against religious disbelief in general and against\nAtheism in particular. We have here more than the mere rejection of a\ntheory or view of life. There is a certain emotional resentment, a\nshrinking from the one who is guilty of disbelief, such as is not\nexplainable on ordinary grounds. The attitude is ridiculous, so\nridiculous that many who adopt it are ashamed to openly acknowledge it,\nbut it is there, and its existence calls for explanation.\n\nWe believe this is to be found in the peculiar history of the god-idea\ncombined with primitive theories of social life. Like many frames of\nmind that persist in civilised society, this attitude towards disbelief\nhas its roots in a conception of the world that has been generally\ndiscarded and in social conditions that have ceased to exist among\ncivilised people. To begin with, we have the fact that religion\ndominates the life of primitive man to a degree that is almost\ninconceivable to the modern mind. The anger of the tribal gods has to be\nalways reckoned with. What they desire must be done, what they do not\ndesire must be avoided. In the next place there exists a very strong\nsense of collective responsibility. What one member of a tribe does the\nwhole of the tribe is responsible for, both to the members of other\ntribes and to the gods. We see a survival of this in the reversion to a\nmore primitive state of things that takes place during a war. In some\ncircumstances hatred of the whole of a people with whom a nation is at\nwar becomes a duty, and all are responsible for the offences of each. So\nin primitive times an offence against the gods became an act of treason\nagainst the tribe. It might expose the whole of the tribe to disaster.\n\nIt is not, it must be noted, that primitive man is fond of the gods, or\njealous of their honour; he is not any more fond of them than is the\nmodern citizen of the tax-collector. And no one will ever really\nunderstand the question of religion until he rids himself of the notion\nthat primitive man spends his time _looking_ for gods or that he is\nhappy in their company. He is simply afraid that a single unruly member\nmay get the whole tribe into a serious difficulty. The savage is\nseverely practical; his conduct rests upon grounds of, to him, the most\nobvious utility, and his treatment of the heretic leaves little to be\ndesired on the score of effectiveness. The unbeliever is a dangerous\nperson, and he is promptly suppressed. The first heretic died a martyr\nto the tribe; the last heretic will die a martyr to the race.\n\nPrimitive conditions die out, but primitive feelings linger, and\nalthough in theory we have reached the stage of believing that each\nperson must bear the consequences of his own religious opinions, the\ndeeply rooted dislike to the man who rejects the rule of the gods\nremains.\n\nHistorically we have also to reckon with the operations of an interested\npriesthood, but leaving that on one side as a secondary development it\nwould seem that one must trace to some such cause as the one above\nindicated the deep and widespread dislike to such a term as atheism,\neven by many who to all intents and purposes are atheist in their\nopinion. Certainly in this country, where compromise is more fashionable\nthan in many other places, the dislike to the word is partly due to its\nuncompromising character. It is clear cut and definite. Its connotations\ncannot be misunderstood by any one who takes the word in its literal\nmeaning. The Theist is one who believes in a personal God. The Atheist\nis one who is without belief in a personal God. The meaning is clear,\nand the implied mental attitude is plain. It is opposed to theism, and\nhas no significance apart from Theism. And, as will be seen, when\nnon-theists quarrel with it, it is only because it is mis-stated or\nmisunderstood.\n\nBut most people dislike clear cut terms. They prefer to exist in an\natmosphere of mental ambiguity and intellectual fog which blurs outlines\nand obscures differences. Unbeliever is preferable to some,\nsceptic--presumably because of its age and philosophical associations,\nis a greater favourite, and Agnostic is more beloved than either--the\nlatter has indeed been pressed into the service of a more or less\nnebulous \"religion.\" As it is said, \"We are all Socialists nowadays,\" so\nit is said that we are unbelievers or Agnostics nowadays. But no one\nsays we are all Atheists nowadays. Timidity can find no use for a word\nof that character. Of course, if a man believes that some word other\nthan Atheism best describes his state of mind, he has a perfect right to\nselect the one that seems fittest. But when one finds non-theists\nrepudiating the name of Atheist with as much moral indignation as though\nthey had been accused of shoplifting, one cannot help the suspicion\nthat the heat displayed is not unconnected with some lurking fear of the\n\"respectabilities.\" It does seem that while many may have outgrown all\nfear of the God of orthodoxy, the fear of the god of social pressure\nremains.\n\nSo far as the Theist is concerned it is quite understandable that his\nobjection to Atheism should involve a certain moral element. That would\nresult from what has already been said concerning the cause of the fear\nof heresy. Still one would have thought that in these days it would\nrequire a person of almost abnormal stupidity to assume that disbelief\nin God has its roots in a defective moral character. The facts would\nwarrant a quite opposite conclusion. In the first place, the rejection\nof any well-established belief argues a degree of independence of mind\nthat is, unfortunately, not common. The ordinary mind follows the common\nroute. It is the extraordinary mind that strikes out from the beaten\npath. The heretic, whether in politics or in religion, may be wrong, but\nthere is always with him the guarantee of a certain measure of mental\nstrength that is not, on the face of the matter, present with one who\nfollows the orthodox path. And that in itself represents a type of mind\nof no little social value. Moreover, I for one, am quite ready to assert\nthat, class for class, the Freethinker does represent a type of mind\nconsiderably above the average. That this is not more generally\nrecognised is due to the policy of the religious advocate in contrasting\nthe uneducated Freethinker with the educated believer.\n\nSecondly, it strikes one as almost insane to assume that in a Christian\ncountry Atheism should be professed as a cloak or as an excuse for\nmisconduct. They who talk in this strain greatly undervalue the\naccommodating power of religion. Is there a single form of rascality\nknown to man for which religion has not been able to provide a sanction?\nIf there is I have failed to come across it. The use of religion made by\ntyranny in all ages and in all countries is proof of how accommodating\nit is to man's passions and interests. The picture of the dying murderer\nmeeting his end, filled with the consolation of religion, and certain of\nhis speedy salvation, contains a lesson that all may read if they will.\n\nError there may be in any case where opinion is concerned, but\nprofession of an opinion that paves the way for suspicion and\npersecution provides a _prima facie_ guarantee of honesty that cannot be\nfurnished by the advocacy of one that stands high in the public favour.\nFor aught I know to the contrary, every one of England's Bishops may be\nquite honest men. But there can be no certainty about it so long as the\nprofession carries with it all it does. The dice are loaded in favour of\nconviction. But the man who faces social ostracism, and even loss of\nliberty in defence of an opinion, is giving a hostage to truth such as\nnone other can give.\n\nThis association of heresy with a defective moral character is a very\nold game. It has been played by all religions, and, it must be admitted,\nwith considerable success. Writing in the second century Lucian shows us\nthe same policy at work in his day. In one of his dialogues, when the\nAtheist has refuted one after another the theistic arguments of his\nopponent, the defender of the gods turns on his opponent with--\n\n\n     You god robbing, shabby, villainous, infamous, halter-sick\n     vagabond! Does not everybody know that your father was a\n     tatterdemalion, and your mother no better than she should be? that\n     you murdered your brother and are guilty of other execrable crimes?\n     You lewd, lying, rascally, abominable varlet.\n\n\nThat type of disputant is still with us, and is still supporting his\nbeliefs with the same tactics. And it is successful with some. There is\na certain snobbishness in human nature that makes it seek the\nassociation of well-known names and shun all of those with an\nunfashionable reputation. To observe the way in which some people will\nintroduce into their conversation, speeches, or writings, the names of\nwell-known men, is a revelation of this mental snobbery. And the moral\nequivalent of this is the fear of being found in the company of an\nopinion that has been branded as immoral. Such people have all the fear\nof an unpopular opinion that a savage has of a tribal taboo--it is, in\nfact, a survival of the same spirit that gave the tribal taboo its\nforce. It is, thus, not a very difficult matter to warn people off an\nundesirable opinion. Samuel Taylor Coleridge relates how the clergy\nraised the cry of Atheism against him, although he had never advanced\nfurther than Deism. And it is to his credit that in referring to this\ncharge he said:--\n\n\n     Little do these men know what Atheism is. Not one man in a thousand\n     has either strength of mind or goodness of heart to be an Atheist.\n     I repeat it. Not one man in a thousand has either strength of mind\n     or goodness of heart to be an Atheist.\n\n\nAnd we have also the oft-quoted testimony of the late Professor\nTyndall:--\n\n\n     It is my comfort to know that there are amongst us many whom the\n     gladiators of pulpit would call Atheists and Materialists, whose\n     lives, nevertheless, as tested by any accessible standard of\n     morality would contrast more than favourably with the lives of\n     those who seek to stamp them with this offensive brand. When I say\n     \"offensive,\" I refer merely to the intention of those who use such\n     terms, and not because Atheism or Materialism, when compared with\n     many of the notions ventilated in the columns of religious\n     newspapers has any particular offensiveness to me. If I wish to\n     find men who are scrupulous in their adherence to engagements,\n     whose words are their bond, and to whom moral shiftiness of any\n     kind is subjectively unknown, if I wanted a loving father, a\n     faithful husband, an honourable neighbour, and a just citizen, I\n     would seek him among the band of Atheists to which I refer. I have\n     known some of the most pronounced amongst them, not only in life,\n     but in death--seeing them approaching with open eyes the inexorable\n     goal, with no dread of a \"hangman's whip,\" with no hope of a\n     heavenly crown, and still as mindful of their duties, as if their\n     eternal future depended upon their latest deeds.\n\n\nStill the moral cry is too useful with the crowd to lead to the\nconviction that anything one could say would lead to its disuse. In the\ndialogue of Lucian's to which we have referred, and after the theist has\nbeen refuted by the Atheist, Hermes consoles the chief deity, Zeus, by\ntelling him that even though a few may have been won over by the\narguments of the Atheist, the vast majority, \"the whole mass of\nuneducated Greeks and the Barbarians everywhere,\" still remain firm in\ntheir faith. And although Zeus replies that he would prefer one sensible\nman to a thousand fools, when a case depends upon the adherence of the\nrelatively foolish, numbers will always bring some consolation to the\nchampions of an intellectually distressed creed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nWHAT IS ATHEISM?\n\n\nBetween Atheism and Theism there is no logical halting place. But there\nare, unfortunately, many illogical ones. Few possess the capacity for\npushing their ideas to a logical conclusion, and some position is\nfinally discovered which has the weakness of both extremes with the\nstrength of neither. With many there is vague talk of a \"Power\"\nmanifested in the universe, and by giving this the dignity of capital\nletters it is evidently hoped that ether people will recognise it as an\nequivalent for God. But power, with or without capitals, is not God. It\nis not the existence of a \"Power\" that forms the kernel of the dispute\nbetween the Theist and the Atheist, but what that power is like. The\nissue arises on the point of whether it is personal or not. That it is,\nis what the religious man believes. As Mr. Balfour says, when the plain\nman speaks of God he means \"a God whom men can love, to whom men can\npray, who takes sides, who has purposes and preferences, whose\nattributes, however conceived, leaves the possibility of a personal\nrelation between Himself and those whom he has created.\" (\"Theism and\nHumanism,\" p. 21.) What the genuine believer has in view is not the\nworthless abstraction of a rationalised metaphysic, but the personal\nbeing of historic theology.\n\nIt is now my purpose to take a few of these substitutes for Atheism by\nthe aid of which some persons seek to mark themselves off from a\ndeclared and reasoned unbelief. As outstanding examples of this one may\ntake two men of no less eminence than Herbert Spencer and Professor\nHuxley. Both of these men have rendered great service to advanced\nthought, but both have only succeeded in repudiating Atheism by\nmisstating and misrepresenting it. In addition to the service that\nSpencer unwittingly rendered the current religion by his use of the\n\"Unknowable\" (with which we deal fully later), a further help was given\nby his destruction of an Atheism that had no existence. This remarkable\nperformance will be found in the first part of his \"First Principles.\"\nRespecting the origin of the universe, he tells us, there are three\nintelligible propositions--although neither of these, on his own\nshowing, is intelligible. We may assert that it is self-existent, that\nit is self-created, or that it is created by an external agency. All\nthree propositions, he proceeds to show, are equally inconceivable. The\nnoticeable thing about the performance is that Atheism is identified\nwith the proposition that the universe is self-existent. A very slight\nacquaintance with the writings of representative Atheists would have\nshown Mr. Spencer that \"the origin of the universe\" is one of those\nquestions on which Atheism has wisely been silent, and it has also\ninsisted that all attempts to deal with such a question can only result\nin a meaningless string of words. To the Atheist, \"the universe\"--the\nsum of existence--is a fact that no amount of reasoning can get behind\nor beyond. To think of the universe as a whole is an impossibility;\nwhile to talk of its origin is to assume, first, that it did originate,\nand, second, that we have some means by which we can transcend all the\nknown limits of the human mind. The Atheist can say, and has said, with\nMr. Spencer himself--whose final statement of Agnosticism differs in no\nmaterial respect from Atheism, that in discussing the \"origin of the\nuniverse,\" we can only succeed in multiplying impossibilities of thought\n\"by every attempt we make to explain its existence.\" No one has pointed\nout more clearly than Mr. Spencer that \"infinity\" is not a conception,\nbut the negation of one. The pity is that he did not realise that in\ntaking up this position he was on exactly the same level of criticism\nthat Atheists have pursued. For them the universe is an ultimate fact;\nall that we can do is to mark the ceaseless changes always going on\naround us, and to develope our capacity for modifying their action in\nthe interests of human welfare. Farther than this our knowledge does not\nand cannot go; and it may be added that even though our knowledge could\ngo beyond the world of phenomena, such knowledge would not be of the\nslightest possible value.\n\nIt may also be pointed out that, just as it is not true that Atheism\nattempts to explain the origin of the universe, so it is unfair to tie\nthe Atheist down to any particular theory of cosmic evolution. As a\nmental attitude Atheism is quite independent of any theory of cosmic\nworking, so long as that theory does not involve an appeal to deity. As\nwe shall see, Atheism, from the point of view both of history and\netymology, stands for the negation of theism, and its final\njustification must be found in the untenability of the theistic\nposition.\n\nRightly enough it may be argued that the acceptance of Atheism implies a\ncertain general mental attitude towards both cosmic and social\nquestions, but the Atheist, as such, is no more committed to a special\nscientific theory than he is committed to a special theory of\ngovernment. Of course, it is convenient for the Theist to first of all\nsaddle his opponent with a set of social or scientific beliefs, and then\nto assume that in attacking those beliefs he is demolishing Atheism, but\nit is none the less fighting on a false issue. All that Atheism\nnecessarily involves is that all forms of Theism are logically\nuntenable, and consequently the only effective method of destroying\nAtheism is to establish its opposite.\n\nProfessor Huxley's treatment of Atheism proceeds on similar lines to\nthat already dealt with, but is more elaborate in character. Discussing\nthe nature of his own opinions he repudiates all sympathy with Atheism,\nbecause:\n\n\n     \"the problem of the ultimate cause of existence is one which seems\n     to me to be hopelessly out of reach of my poor powers. Of all the\n     senseless babble I have ever had occasion to read, the\n     demonstrations of those philosophers who undertake to tell us about\n     the nature of God would be the worst, if they were not surpassed by\n     the still greater absurdities of the philosophers who try to prove\n     there is no God.\" (_On the Hypothesis the Animals are Automata._)\n\n\nAnd on another occasion, replying to a correspondent, he expresses the\nopinion that \"Atheism is, on philosophical grounds, untenable, that\nthere is no evidence of the god of the theologians is true enough, but\nstrictly scientific reasoning can take us no further. When we know\nnothing we can neither affirm nor deny with propriety.\" (_Life and\nLetters_, p. 162.)\n\nHere, again, we have the common error that Atheism seeks in some way to\nexplain the ultimate cause of existence. And this in spite of continuous\ndisclaimers that all search for a \"first cause,\" or for a \"cause of\nexistence\" is midsummer madness. The fault here, we suspect, is that\nboth writers took their statement of Atheism, not from Atheistic writers\nbut from their opponents. But it is none the less surprising that it was\nnot recognised that both \"a first cause\" and an \"ultimate cause of\nexistence,\" are, strictly speaking, theistic questions. I do not mean\nthat these questions may not suggest themselves to non-theists, but that\nwhen they are raised clearly and definitely they are seen to belong to a\nclass of questions to which no rational answer is possible. To the\nTheist, however, the questions arise from his primary assumptions. His\ntheory is one of final causes; his deity is postulated as the cause of\nexistence, and he cannot give up the questions as hopeless without\nadmitting his position to be indefensible. It is quite usual for the\ntheist to propound problems which only arise on his own assumptions, and\nthen call upon his opponents for answers to them, but there is no\njustification whatever for non-theists playing the same game. Atheism\nhas nothing to do with final causes, and therefore is not concerned with\ndefending its illogicalities. Theism is a doctrine of final causes, and\nin arguing that it is absurd to express an opinion upon the subject\nProfessor Huxley was adding a good reason in support of the position he\nbelieved himself to be destroying.\n\nHuxley's other objection to Atheism is that it perpetuates the absurdity\nof trying to prove there is no God. How far is that true? Or in what\nsense is it true? The danger in all discussion on this point lies in our\ntaking it for granted that \"God\" conveys a definite and identical\nmeaning to all people. But this is very far from being the case. What\nanyone means by \"God\" it is impossible to say until some further\ndescription has been given. When this has been done, and not until then,\n\"God\" may become the subject of affirmation or denial. Until then we are\nplaying with empty words. By itself \"God\" means nothing. It offers the\npossibility of neither negation nor affirmation.\n\nNow Professor Huxley would have readily admitted that the truth of a\nproposition may be denied whenever its terms involve a contradiction.\nAnd the ground of this is the sheer impossibility of bringing the terms\ntogether in thought. That a circle may be square, or that parallel lines\nmay enclose a space, are propositions the truth of which may be denied\noffhand. The ground of this is that the conception of squareness and\ncircularity, of straight lines and an enclosed space are mutually\ndestructive, they cancel each other. And so far as Atheism may be said\nto involve the denial of particular gods that denial is based upon\nprecisely similar grounds. When defined it is seen that the attributes\nof this defined god cancel each other as effectually as squareness rules\nout the idea of a circle; either this or they are simply unthinkable.\nYou cannot have an infinite personality any more than you can have a\nsix-sided octagon, nor can you posit an infinite personality without\ndivesting the terms of all meaning.\n\nIt may also be noted in passing that both the theist and the Agnostic\nactually do deny the existence of particular gods without the least\nhesitation. No rational Agnostic would hesitate to deny the existence of\nJupiter, Javeh, Allah, or Brahma. No Christian would hesitate to deny\nthe existence of the gods of a tribe of savages. Even believers in the\ncurrent theology have evolved beyond the stage of the primitive\nChristians, who accepted the existence of the Pagan deities with the\nproviso that they were demons. And it is a mere verbal quibble to say\nthat these people merely deny each other's conception of deity. Each\nman's conception of god _is_ his god, and to say that no being answering\nto that conception exists is to say that his god does not exist, and in\nrelation to the god denied the denier is in exactly the position in\nwhich he places the Atheist.\n\nSo far then the Atheism of each is just a question of degree or of\nrelation. So far as Atheism involves the denial of deity the follower of\none religion is an Atheist in relation to the followers of every other\nreligion. Each religion--among civilised people--is atheistic from the\nstandpoint of the followers of other gods. The affirmation of one god\ninvolves the denial of other gods. This would really seem to be the\nhistorical significance of the term. The early Christians were called\natheists by the Pagans, and some of them accepted it without demur. At a\nlater date Spinoza, Voltaire, Paine, and others were called atheists,\nand the epithet has lost its force to-day only because the evolution of\nthought has broken down many religious barriers, and is rapidly dividing\npeople into two groups--those who believe in some god and who believe\nin none at all. Now all that Atheism--conscious and reflective\nAtheism--does is to carry a step further the restricted denial of the\nordinary religionist. The Christian theist denies every god but his own.\nThe Atheist, seeing no more evidence for the existence of the Christian\ndeity than for the existence of any of the deities discarded by the\nChristian, seeing, further, that there are exactly the same\ncontradictions involved in assuming the existence of any one of the\nworld's deities, places the Christian deity on the list as among those\ngods in whose existence he does not believe, and whose existence, so far\nas it is defined, may be logically denied.\n\nThe really distinguishing feature of philosophic Atheism is its\ncomprehensiveness, the ranking of all known deities, big and little,\nancient and modern, savage and civilised, gross and subtle, upon the\nsame level. Historically, we see them all originating in the same\nconditions, passing through substantially the same phases of\ndevelopment, finally to meet with the same fate as civilisation\ndevelopes. In this respect Atheism has to be considered in its historic\ndevelopments. It begins, as we have seen in the rejection of a\nparticular god, in favour of some other deity. It is only at a very much\nlater stage that the whole idea of god is subjected to examination and\nanalysis in such a way as to lead to the rejection of the conception of\ngod as a whole. But with that aspect of the subject we shall be\nconcerned later.\n\nBut does Atheism deny the existence of any possible god? This question\nmight admit of a simple answer if one only knew precisely what it meant.\nIt is easy enough to understand what is meant by God so long as we keep\nto any or all of the gods of the world's religions. But what is meant by\ngod standing alone and undefined? Historically \"God\" means a deity\nbelieved in by some people, some where, at some time. And if we put on\none side these particular gods we have nothing left that can be either\naffirmed or denied. God in the abstract is not a real existence any more\nthan tree in the abstract is a real existence. There is a pine tree, a\npear tree, an apple tree, etc., but there is and can be no \"tree\" apart\nfrom some particular tree. So with \"god.\" There are particular gods, but\nif we do away with these, we have no god left as a separate existence.\n\"God\" then becomes a mere word conveying no meaning whatever. Atheism\ndoes not deny the existence of _a_ god for the same reason that it does\nnot deny the existence of Abracadabra--both terms mean as much, or as\nlittle. And it is more than absurd for people who have rejected theism\nto continue using the word \"god\" as though it had a quite definite\nmeaning apart from the gods of the various theologies. We have Professor\nHuxley admitting that \"there is no evidence of the existence of the god\nof the theologians,\" and we imagine that he would have met the\naffirmation of their existence with a flat contradiction. At any rate he\nwould have been quite justified in doing so. But when he asserts, with a\nshow of logical precision, but in reality with great looseness, that \"it\nis preposterous to assert that there is no god because he cannot be such\nas we think him to be,\" he is using language for which no precise\nmeaning can be found. To be intelligible, the sentence implies that we\nhave some conception answering to the terms used, and this, as we have\npointed out with almost wearisome insistence, is not the case. It is not\na case of saying to the theist, \"I fully understand your hypothesis, but\nas at present I do not see enough evidence to convince me of its truth\nor to demonstrate its error I must suspend judgment.\" We do _not_\nunderstand it. And when we seek to we discover that the terms of the\nproposition we are asked to accept refuse to be brought together within\nthe compass of a single conception. Suspended judgment where the subject\nunder discussion is understandable is right and proper, but it is quite\nout of place, and indeed cannot exist, where the proposition before us\nis void of meaning. In such circumstances suspended judgment is absurd,\nand it may be added that the affirmation or negation of such a\nproposition is absurd likewise.\n\nOnly one other word need be said on this point. It may be urged that\neducated believers mean by \"God\" not the anthropomorphic deity of the\ntheologies, but a personal intelligence controlling things. But this is\nreally not less anthropomorphic than the form in which the god idea\nmeets us in the popular theologies. Its anthropomorphism is only, to\nunobservant minds, less apparent. The conception of an intelligent,\npersonal being controlling nature is not fundamentally less\nobjectionable than the frankly man-like being of the early theologies.\nIntelligence, as we know it (and to talk of an intelligence that is\nunlike the intelligence we know is absurd) is as much a characteristic\nof human, or animal, organisation, as arms and legs are. Mind, after\nall, is only known to us as a function of an organism. That it is more\nthan this, or other than this, is a pure assumption. And to divest \"God\"\nof all physical parts, while retaining his functions, is sheer nonsense.\nThere is the personal intelligence of Smith, or Brown, or Robinson, but\nit is absurd to wipe out all the particular Smiths, and Browns, and\nRobinsons, and then talk as though their qualities continue in\nexistence. So with God. If we reject all the gods of the theologies one\nafter another, what god have we left to talk about? All we have left is\nthe memory of a delusion.\n\nIt is equally fallacious to talk of \"God\" as an equivalent of force in\nthe abstract, or as the equivalent of some non-intelligent force. This\nis not what people ever meant, or mean, by god. What religious folk\nbelieve in, what they pray to, is a person who can hear them, and who\ncan do things. A god only dimly apprehended may be tolerated, but for\nhow long will faith continue to worship an existence that can neither do\nnor hear nor sympathise? There is a limit to even religious folly. And\neven a savage only worships \"sticks and stones\" _after_ he endows them\nwith life and intelligence.\n\nFinally, if there is one thing clear to the modern mind it is that\nscience has no room in its theory of things for an over-ruling\nintelligence. Sir Oliver Lodge well sums up the attitude of science in\nthe following sentences:--\"Orthodox science shows us a self-contained\nand self-sufficient universe, not in touch with anything above or beyond\nitself--the general trend and outline of it known--nothing supernatural\nor miraculous, no intervention of beings other than ourselves, being\nconceived possible.\" (_Man and the Universe_, p. 14, Popular ed.)\nPersonally, we question whether there are any scientists of repute who\nreally believe in the existence of a personal intelligence above or\nbeyond nature. Some may make professions to the contrary, but it will\nusually be found that the qualifications introduced rob their\nprofessions of all value. Certainly their teaching is destitute of any\nsuch conception. Modern scientific thought leaves no room for the\noperations of deity. The miraculous is generally discarded. Response to\nprayer is whittled down to a species of self-delusion, to be valued on\naccount of its subjective influence only. The scientific theory of\nthings, incomplete as it may be in many of its details, leaves no room\nfor the operations of a god. Not alone does it leave no room for a god,\nbut if the scientific conception of the world is to stand, then it would\nbe necessary to repeat Bakunine's _mot_, and to say, \"If there were a\ngod it would be necessary to destroy him.\" You simply cannot have at one\nand the same time a universe in which all that occurs is the consequence\nof calculable and indestructible forces, the operations of which can be\nforeseen and relied upon, and a universe controlled by a\nself-determining deity, capable of modifying the action of these same\nforces. You may have one or the other, but it is sheer lunacy to imagine\nthat you can have both. Either uniformity with invariable causation, or\na world in which every scientific calculation must be prefaced with the\n\"D.V.\" of a prayer meeting. And the Atheist, who accepts the principles\nof modern science, says, not merely that he is without a belief in god,\nbut that he fails to see any necessity for his existence, or anything\nfor him to do if he did exist. He passes the gods of the world in review\nand categorically dismisses each one as a myth. In doing this he has the\nconcurrence of all theists in discarding every god save one--his own.\nThe Atheist simply applies the same rule to each, and metes out the same\njudgment to all.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nSPENCER AND THE UNKNOWABLE.\n\n\nWe have already referred to the use made by religionists of Spencer's\n\"Unknowable.\" This theory was not without its forerunners, and in\nEngland was already in the field in the teachings of Hamilton and\nMansel. Spencer gave it a still greater vogue. As he presented it, it\ncame before the world with all the prestige attaching to its association\nwith one of the most comprehensive of modern thinkers, and one of the\nmost influential in the schools of evolutionary philosophy. It was also\nconnected with a world theory that claimed to be strictly scientific in\nits character. It became not only a fashion in certain circles, it\nfounded a school, and gained numerous followers in the religious world.\nIts author propounded it as a basis on which to reconcile religion and\nscience, and many were ready to accept it as such. Printed in all the\nglory of capital letters, appearing sometimes as \"The Ultimate Reality,\"\nsometimes as the \"Unconditioned,\" sometimes as an \"Infinite and Eternal\nEnergy,\" it was equally impressive under all its forms. It provided just\nthat solemn kind of formula that the religious mind is accustomed to\nhear, and if it was as meaningless as the Athanasian Creed, is was, for\nthat reason, quite as satisfying. It gave all the comfort of a religious\nconfession of faith, and it has been the parent of a whole host of more\nrecent apologies for God.\n\nIn itself the \"Unknowable\" was harmless enough. Its philosophic value\nis not great, its scientific utility is nil. To say that everything\nproceeds from an \"Ultimate Reality\" is not very helpful, and to follow\non with the declaration that we know nothing about it, and that it would\nbe of no use to us if we did, does not sound very encouraging. It\nreminds one of the description of the horse that had only two\nfaults--one that it was hard to catch, and the other that it was no good\nwhen it was caught. We repeat with all solemnity the formula that all\nthings proceed from an infinite and eternal energy, and that this is the\nUltimate Reality, and then find that in relation to any and every\nquestion we are precisely where we were. Its acceptance in certain\nreligious circles, and its use later, may be taken as evidence of the\nfact that what the pious mind longs for is not sense but satisfaction.\n\nStill there remains cause for wonder that this \"Unknowable\" should ever\nhave been taken as affording foundation for the belief in deity. The\nmost extreme materialist or Atheist need not be in the slightest degree\ndisconcerted on being told things proceed from an \"Infinite and Eternal\nEnergy.\" It is only what the Atheist has said, minus the capital\nletters. He has affirmed his conviction, that all phenomena result from\nthe permutations of matter and force, which are eternal because no time\nlimit can be placed to their operations. And you do not add anything\nmaterial to the statement by printing it in capital letters. That the\nSpencerian abstraction should have been taken as a substitute for deity\nproves how desperate the situation is. Drowning men clutch at straws,\nand a disintegrating deity hopes to renew his strength by the lavish\nuse of capital letters.\n\nFor, after all, what the theist needs is, not an eternal energy, but a\npersonality. An inscrutable existence will not do. There is no dispute\nthat something exists. There is no quarrel over mere existence. It is\nwith the nature of what exists and the mode of its operation that the\nissue arises. The theist needs a special kind of energy, a special form\nof existence, a special kind of \"reality\" if his case is to be\nestablished. It will not do for Mr. Spencer to assure him that this\n\"Ultimate Reality\" is higher than personal. How Mr. Spencer knows that\nsomething, the nature of which is unknown, is higher than something\nelse, is more than one can tell. But that does not matter. Higher or\nlower, it is all the same. Either way it is different from personal, and\nif it is different it is not the same, it is not personal. Whatever\nother qualities this \"Ultimate Reality\" has or lacks, it must have that\none if it is to be of use to the theist. And to say that it is higher\nthan personal is to say that it is not personal at all, and to repeat in\na roundabout manner what the Atheist has been saying all the time.\n\nWhat now is Spencer's theory of an ultimate reality that must for ever\nremain unknowable? Following a line of thought that had been steadily\ngaining ground since Hume--although much older than Hume--Spencer holds\nthat in final analysis all our knowledge is a knowledge of mental states\nand their relations. Beyond this we _know_ nothing, and can never know\nanything. Nevertheless, while we cannot know anything beyond\nconsciousness, the conditions of thinking oblige us to assume that\nsomething exists as the cause of our states of mind. Just as black\nimplies something that is not black, hard something that is not hard, so\nwe must conceive, as against the conditioned, relative existence of our\nconscious states, an unconditioned, absolute existence as their cause.\nIt is this assumed, but completely unknown cause of our conscious\nstates, and of all else, that Spencer distinguishes as the Unknowable,\nthe Unconditioned, the Absolute, etc., and which appears to have brought\nso much consolation to hard-pressed theists.\n\nI have no intention of discussing here the philosophic value of the\n\"Unknowable.\" But one may say, in passing, that even from that point of\nview Spencer is untrue to his own Agnosticism in speaking of the\nUnconditioned as the _cause_ of phenomena. For causation is a category\nof the conditioned, it belongs to the world we know. It is not something\nthat exists beyond consciousness, it is something that is supplied by\nconsciousness and which possesses validity only within the world of\nphenomena. On Spencer's own theory of relativity a cause only exists in\nrelation to an effect. Destroy the one and you destroy the other. Thus,\nif the Unknowable is a cause of phenomena it ceases to be the\nunconditioned and becomes part of the phenomenal order. If, on the other\nhand, it is not part of the phenomenal sequence, it cannot stand to\nphenomena in a genuine casual relation. It is, however, only fair to\npoint out that between the Unknowable and the evolutionary philosophy of\nSpencer the only connection between them is that they are both in the\nsame work. In all probability it is an unconscious survival of\nSpencer's earlier theism, which was active at the time the Synthetic\nPhilosophy was originally planned, but which became more and more\nattenuated as Spencer grew older, and disappears entirely from the more\nimportant volumes of the series. And but for the help it has been\nsupposed to give the belief in god, the \"Unknowable\" would only have\nranked as a harmless speculation of no value to anyone or to anything.\nThis is substantially admitted in a postscript to the 1899 edition of\n\"First Principles.\" At the conclusion of the section entitled \"The\nUnknowable,\" he says:--\n\n\n     The reader is not called on to judge respecting any of the\n     arguments or conclusions contained in the foregoing five chapters\n     and in the above paragraphs. The subjects on which we are about to\n     enter are independent of the subjects thus far discussed; and he\n     may reject any or all of that which has gone before while leaving\n     himself free to accept any or all of that which is now to come.\n\n\nIn other words, the \"Unknowable\" is a pure abstraction, having no\norganic connection with the Synthetic Philosophy, or indeed with any\nphilosophy of value. Mr. Spencer's warning to his readers seems to quite\njustify Mr. Bradley's rather caustic comment, \"I do not wish to be\nirreverent, but Mr. Spencer's attitude towards his Unknowable strikes me\nas a pleasantry, the point of which lies in its unconsciousness. It\nseems a proposal to take something for God simply and solely because we\ndo not know what the devil it can be.\" (Note to p. 128 of _Appearance\nand Reality_.)\n\nThe curious thing is that Mr. Spencer really offers his readers two\ntheories of the nature of religion. One is contained in his \"Principles\nof Sociology,\" and so far as it traces all religious ideas to the\ndelusions and illusions of the primitive savage is substantially that\nheld by all modern anthropologists. The other is contained in his \"First\nPrinciples,\" and the two theories, like parallel lines, never meet.\nThough born in the same brain they are quite distinct, and even\ncontradictory.\n\nThe substance of this second theory may be summarised as follows:--\n\n1. The conditions of human thought compel the recognition of an\nunknowable reality of which all phenomena are the expression.\n\n2. The function of religion, from the earliest time, has been the\nassertion of the existence of an unknowable reality, and to keep alive a\nconsciousness of the insoluble mystery surrounding it.\n\n3. The function of science is to deal with the known and the knowable,\nwith all that is presented in experience, with the world of phenomena\nexclusively.\n\n4. Religion having for its subject matter the unknown and unknowable,\nwhile science has for its subject matter the known and the knowable,\nreligion and science are not antagonistic, but complementary. Conflicts\nonly arise when one trespasses on the other's department, and a\nrecognition of the true line of demarcation effectually reconciles these\nhitherto hostile forces.\n\nA very obvious criticism of number one is in affirming a consciousness\nof an \"Unknowable,\" its quality of unknowableness is annihilated.\nExistence can only be predicated of that which affects consciousness in\nsome manner; and so far as I have the slightest apprehension or\nconsciousness of anything existing, to that extent it ceases to be the\nunknowable. Our knowledge of it may be imperfect or altogether\nerroneous; we may feel it impossible that we should ever rightly\nunderstand it; but so far as we think about it we are bound to\nassimilate it to the best of our knowledge, even though it be only under\nthe category of force. In brief, \"unknowableness\" is not a property or\nquality by which a thing may be apprehended; it is a name for complete\nmental vacuity. It does not refer to the thing itself, it refers only to\nus. It is a pure negation which Spencer, by sheer verbal play converts\ninto a quasi-positive conception. A consciousness of things unknown can\nnever be more than a consciousness of ignorance. There is only one way\nto prove the existence of an unknowable, and that is to know nothing\nabout it--not even to know that there is something about which we know\nnothing.\n\nBut, says Spencer, \"to say that we cannot know the absolute is, by\nimplication, to affirm that there is an absolute.\" Certainly, if we take\nan infirmity of language to be the equivalent of a necessity of\nexistence, not otherwise. When I say that we cannot know a four-sided\ntriangle I do not affirm by implication that a four-sided triangle\nexists. I am asserting that the phrase, a four-sided triangle, involves\nconceptions that cannot be brought together in consciousness, and so\ndismiss it as being without meaning.\n\nThe truth is that every one of Spencer's attempts to prove the existence\nof an unknowable turns out on examination to be no more than a proof of\nthe existence of an unknown, and this is not disputed at any time or by\nanyone. Thus, after being told that a known cannot be thought of apart\nfrom an unknown, we are informed:--\n\n\n     Positive knowledge does not, and never can, fill the whole region\n     of possible thought. At the utmost reach of discovery there arises,\n     and must ever arise, the question, What lies beyond? As it is\n     impossible to think of a limit to space so as to exclude the idea\n     of space lying outside that limit, so we cannot conceive of any\n     explanation profound enough to exclude the question, What is the\n     explanation of the explanation?\n\n\nWith this we can all agree, but it does not bring us any nearer an\n\"unknowable.\" It is perfectly true that thought can never be\ncomprehensive enough to exhaust the possibilities of existence, since it\nis of the essence of thinking to limit and define. But it is a sheer\nimpossibility to think of what lies beyond the boundary of our knowledge\nas unknowable, so far as we think of it at all, we must conceive it as\nthe unknown but possibly knowable. The unknown can only be thought of\nthus because it is only as it is, by assumption, brought into line with\nwhat is already known that it can be thought about at all. We are\ncompelled to think of what lies beyond the limits of our actual\nknowledge in the same way as a traveller thinks of the fauna and flora\nof an untravelled country. The new region may present many new features,\nbut until actual observation has taken place, these new features will\nonly be thought of as more or less unusual combinations of known animal\nand vegetable life. They are substantially identical with what is\nalready known.\n\nNo stranger notion ever occurred to a great thinker than that religion\nand science represent parallel and distinct lines of development, each\nhaving its own sphere of operation. It is all the more remarkable when\nwe remember that with Spencer \"religion\" means all religion, past and\npresent, civilised and savage. And no one is more precise in pointing\nout how all religious ideas find their beginnings in the conditions of\nprimitive life. And that being the case, one wonders whether we are to\npicture primitive man as a profound metaphysical philosopher,\nspeculating on that which lies behind phenomena, contemplating an\n\"insoluble Mystery,\" and paying homage to an \"Ultimate Reality\"? Nothing\ncould be more absurd. Thinking begins in concrete images, not in\nabstractions. We have only to note the development of intelligence in\nchildren to realise this. And primitive man, not being a mystic nor a\nmetaphysician, bases his religion, not upon a reality that transcends\nexperience, but upon a presumed fact, and what is to him the best known\nof all facts. And even with modern men it may safely be said that they\nworship God for what they believe they know about him, not because they\nbelieve him to be unknown and unknowable.\n\nSpencer himself may be cited in support of this. In his \"Principles of\nSociology,\" where the Unknowable plays no part whatever, he concludes\nafter an elaborate survey of the facts, that the imagination of\nprimitive man is reminiscent, not constructive; his power of thought is\nfeeble, he is without the quick curiosity of civilised man, there is an\nabsence of the conception of causation, he accepts things as they\nappear, without any vivid desire to inquire into their real nature or\ntheir connection with other events, and is without abstract ideas.\nClearly, here is not a very promising subject from which to derive even\nthe germ of the idea of a \"Reality transcending experience.\" Spencer\nalso, and quite properly, insists that religious ideas are, under the\ncondition of their origin, national ideas; that we must accept the truth\nthat the laws of thought are everywhere the same, and that, given the\ndata as known to primitive man, the inference drawn by him is a\nreasonable inference.\n\nWith this we agree, but it gives the death blow to the previous\nstatement as to the essential nature of religion, and its essential\ndifferentiation from science. For given the constitution of the\nprimitive mind, its ignorance of causation and general lack of\nknowledge, religion commences not in some search after an eternal\nreality, but in a natural misunderstanding of observed facts. Primitive\nreligion is just a reasoned misunderstanding of phenomena that in later,\nand better informed ages, are given an altogether different explanation.\n\nThat this is so, Spencer himself makes plain. For he shows, step by\nstep, how the experience of dreams, echoes, shadows, etc., combine to\nproduce the belief in unseen agencies differing in no essential from man\nsave that of possessing greater power and in being invisible. From\ndreams and other subjective experiences he derives the idea of a double,\nfrom death that of a ghost. Hence the ceremonies round the grave, and\nthe attention paid to the double of the dead man, which subsequently\ndevelopes into ancestor worship. The same train of thought gives a\ndouble to objects other than human beings. Hence Animism, Totemism, and\ntheir numerous subsidiary developments. Spencer insists, not only that\n\"all religions have a natural genesis,\" but also that \"behind\nsupernatural beings of all orders\" there has been in every case a human\npersonality--in other words, every god is developed from a ghost,\n\"ancestor worship is the root of every religion.\" To this he will admit\nno exception, and referring to the Jewish religion, he asks\ncontemptuously:--\n\n\n     Must we recognise a single exception to the general truth thus far\n     verified everywhere? While among all races in all regions, from the\n     earliest times down to the present, the conceptions of deities have\n     been naturally evolved in the way shown, must we conclude that a\n     small clan of the Semitic race had given to it supernaturally a\n     conception which, though superficially like the rest, was in\n     substance absolutely unlike them.\n\n\nAnd in about half a dozen pages he shows conclusively that the Biblical\nGod had exactly a similar origin to other gods.\n\nNow if this account of religious origins means anything at all (and in\nspite of differences between anthropologists it is in substance the\naccount of the origin of religion given by all) it means that instead of\nreligion and science moving along parallel lines, religion is simply\nprimitive science. Religion and science, as a very able theistic writer\nsays, \"touch and oppose each other as rival methods of explaining, not\nsolely or mainly the life and nature of man, but the universe taken as a\nwhole, man forming a part of it.\" (W. H. Mallock, _Religion as a\nCredible Doctrine_, p. ii.) Both are concerned with the same facts, and\ntheir respective claims to consideration depend entirely on their\nability to explain the facts. For the reasons given by Spencer, man's\nearliest interpretation of things is inevitably vitalistic. Ghosts--the\nprimitive protoplasm from which the gods are made--are assumed, and once\nassumed dominate the savage intelligence. Fear combines with ignorance\nto resist any conception that will wrest power from the hands of these\nextra-natural agents, \"Nature's haughty lords,\" rule all, and their\ndynasty is the hardest of all to overthrow.\n\nIn spite, however, of all opposition the mechanical theory of things\ndevelops, and in developing establishes a clear division between the two\nconceptions of nature. But the line of demarcation is not that stated by\nSpencer. Religion no more asserts the existence of an \"Unknown Verity,\"\nthan it asserts a fourth dimension of space. Nor is science concerned\nwith denying the existence of something of which we know nothing, and\ncan never know anything. The essential feature of religion is that it\noffers a vitalistic explanation of the world as against the mechanical\nexplanation offered by science. And in this religion stands for the\nearlier as against the later expression of human knowledge. It is the\neternal champion of savage thought against civilised intelligence. Its\nwhole significance lies in the persistence of animistic modes of\nthinking under civilised conditions.\n\nThis conclusion, be it observed, is one that is quite borne out by\nSpencer's own explanation of the nature of religion. Nor do we know of a\nmore remarkable instance of a front rank thinker propounding in one\npart of his work a theory bearing no relation whatever to the remaining\nportion, and in addition disproving his own theory at every point.\n\nSpencer's reconciliation of science and religion, which in one form or\nanother is continually in evidence, is only one degree less remarkable\nthan the fact of its being accepted by so many religionists as\nsatisfactory. Following the line of his untenable theory that religion\nand science pursue parallel lines, he points out that \"the agent which\nhas effected the purification (of religion) has been science.\" That is,\nthe growth of the mechanical theory has driven back the vitalistic one.\nThis is purification only in the sense that a defaulting cashier\npurifies the firm he robs. \"As fact or experience proves that certain\nfamiliar changes always happen in the same sequence, there begins to\nfade from the mind the conception of a special personality to whose\nvariable will they were before ascribed.\" This process of annexation is,\nsays Spencer, science teaching religion its true function. As a matter\nof fact, science has given religion no instruction, it has merely issued\nprohibitions. It has warned religion that there are certain things it\nmust not meddle with, certain departments on which it must not encroach.\nIn this way religion has been forced farther and farther back, until it\nis left with what? Not with anything that can be known, or is known; it\nis left supreme in the kingdom of nowhere, ruling over an empire of\nnothing at all. And so long as religion strives for a more tangible\npossession so long must there be a conflict between science and\nreligion. But--\"as the limits of possible cognition are established, the\ncauses of possible conflict will diminish. And a permanent peace will be\nreached when science becomes fully convinced that its explanations are\nproximate and relative; while religion becomes fully convinced that the\nmystery it contemplates is ultimate and absolute.\" So, when science has\nmonopolised the entire field of human knowledge, actual and possible,\nand when religion is satisfied that it knows nothing, and never can know\nanything of the object of its worship, that it can offer nothing in the\nshape of counsel or advice, but that its function is to sit in owl-like\nsolemnity, contemplating nothing, meanwhile offering man an eternal\nconundrum that he must everlastingly give up, then, and not till then,\nthere will be peace between science and religion. And this is called a\nreconciliation. Mr. Spencer finds two combatants engaged in deadly\nconflict, he murders one and offers the other the corpse, with the hope\nthat now they will live peacefully together. The scientist is asked to\nbe content with all there is. The religious man is asked to find comfort\nin the reflection that science must eventually monopolise the entire\nfield of knowledge, but that, in return, religion will be left free to\nwork in an unknowable region, to occupy itself with an unknowable\nobject, and to eternally cry \"all is mystery\" in an amended philosophic\nversion of the Athanasian Creed.\n\nAs a piece of humour this is superb. So also is the following: \"Science\nhas been obliged to abandon the attempt to include within the boundaries\nof knowledge that which cannot be known, and so has yielded up to\nreligion that which of right belonged to it.\" Capital! Science gives up\nto religion that which cannot be known, and as it does not know what it\nis, that cannot be known, it surrenders to religion absolute vacuity as\nthe proper sphere for its operations. And even this is accompanied with\nthe proviso that if it happens to have made a mistake, the ceded\nterritory will be at once reclaimed. Science would certainly be\nvindictive if after having murdered religion it declined to live\npeaceably with its corpse.\n\nThe distinction between science and religion is, in truth, neither\nfundamental nor original. It is one that arises gradually in the history\nof mental development. And, therefore, when a man such as Professor\nArthur Thomson describes religion as being concerned with the\nrecognition of the existence of an independent \"spiritual reality,\" the\nreply is that religion commences as just an explanation of nature in\nterms of the then existing knowledge and culture. Religion is just a\ncrude form of science. The separation of the world into a religious and\na scientific sphere arises when the religious interpretation of natural\nhappenings gets discredited by advancing knowledge. If one takes such an\nillustration as that of witchcraft the nature of the process is clear.\nFirst we have the interpretation of certain forms of dementia and\ndelusion in terms of religion. Later we have the same facts interpreted\nin terms of positive knowledge and the religious explanation is\nrejected. And that, in a sentence is the whole history of religion, once\nwe have cleared away the verbiage with which the subject is surrounded.\n\nThe truth of what has just been said is often obscured by\nunintelligible talk of growth in religion. It is claimed that we acquire\ntruer views of deity, and a process of growth is asserted analogous to\nthat which meets us in knowledge in general. Let us see what truth there\nis in this.\n\nIn ordinary instances when we speak of growth we imply one of three\nthings. Either there is increase in size, or there is an enlargement of\nfunction, or there is an increase in knowledge. So long as we keep to\nthese plain meanings of \"growth\" there can be no confusion. But none of\nthese meanings fit the case of religion. Certainly there has been no\nincrease in the size of religion--it does not, that is, cover a larger\narea. On the contrary it is continually being warned off more and more\nterritory. It becomes more and more a negligible quantity. One need not\ngo back to primitive times to prove this, any country will supply\ninstances. The displacement of religious by other considerations is\nobservable on all sides.\n\nThere has certainly been no growth in the functions exercised by\nreligion. Its function as law-giver in the physical world is now\ndefinitely abandoned, and all it asks is that science will let it alone.\nIn ethics and sociology it still maintains a precarious kind of an\nexistence, but it no longer claims supreme power. It is content to urge\nits utility as a source of inspiration, to rank as one among a number of\nother forces that are frankly secular in nature. Finally there has been\nno growth in the shape of an extension of knowledge of the object of\nreligious belief. Of the nature of deity we know no more than did our\nearliest ancestors. In earlier generations the nature of God, his aims\nand intentions, were discussed with the same degree of confidence that\none now sees displayed in discussing schemes of sanitation. The modern\nbeliever is now more anxious to impress upon the world how little he\nknows about God, or how little it is possible for him to know. This is\nnot surprising except in the fact that it is called religious growth.\nAnd if this be a sign of growth one wonders what would be considered\nindications of decay. Historically religious life presents us, not with\na process of growth, but one of shrinkage. To reduce the gods from many\nto few, and from a few to one is not growth. To limit the functions of\ndeity from those of a direct, particular, and universal character, to an\nindirect, general form is not growth. To refine the idea of a personal\ndeity until it becomes that of a mere abstract force, is not growth. All\nthese are so many modifications of the religious idea under pressure of\nadvancing knowledge--so many attempts to state religion in such a way\nthat it can conflict with nothing we know to be true because it answers\nto nothing of which we are certain.\n\nThe idea of God, the idea of religion, does not begin in a mystery or in\nsome abstract conception, but in an assumed knowledge of certain\nconcrete facts of experience. Man believes in the gods because of what\nhe thinks he knows about them, not because of what he does not know. The\ntalk of a mystery is the jargon of a priesthood which finds it\nprofitable to keep the lay mind at a distance. Increased emphasis is\nplaced on mystery because religious teachers are alive to the danger of\nbasing their beliefs upon matters that can be brought to the test of\nexperience. Mystery mongering is not the beginning of religion, but a\nsign of its approaching demise. Mysticism, too, is no more than a cover\nfor a sanctuary that has been emptied of all worthy of respect. But if\nreligion is to really live, it must have some knowledge, no matter how\nlittle or how imperfect, of the subject with which it professes to deal.\nA religion that does not possess this, but is compelled to hand over the\nwhole of life to secular science, signs its own death warrant. It\ncommits suicide to save itself from execution. And as people realise\nthis they turn to clear-eyed science for guidance, leaving religion to\nsuch representatives of primitive animism as still survive in a\ncivilised community.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nAGNOSTICISM.\n\n\nThe primary difficulty in dealing with Agnosticism is its elusive\ncharacter. It is a word of various and vague meanings, and many of those\nwho use it seem to have no great anxiety to fix its meaning with any\ndegree of precision. It is used now in a philosophic and now in a\nreligious sense, and its use in the one connection is justified by its\nuse in another. It has become, in the half century of its existence, as\nindefinite as \"religion,\" and about as enlightening. On the one side it\nappears as a counsel of mental integrity with which everyone will agree,\nand on the other, the religious side, it will vary from a form that is\nidentical, with that much-dreaded \"Atheism,\" to a religious or\n\"reverent\" Agnosticism that reminds one--mentally and morally--of\nMethodism minus its creed. Indeed, to say that a man is an Agnostic\nnowadays tells one no more than calling a man religious indicates to\nwhich one of the world's sects he gives his adherence.\n\nThe only aspect of Agnosticism that we are here vitally concerned with\nis its relation to religion, or specifically with the god-idea. But it\nwill be necessary to say a word, in passing, on at least one other\nphase.\n\nAnd first as to the origin of the term. The credit for the first use of\nthe term has always been given to the late Professor Huxley. Mr. R. H.\nHutton says that Huxley first suggested the word at a meeting of friends\nin the house of Mr. James Knowles in 1869. Professor Huxley says that he\ndeliberately adopted it because, \"When I reached intellectual maturity\nand began to ask myself whether I was an atheist, a theist, or a\npantheist; a materialist, or an idealist, a Christian, or a freethinker,\nI found that the more I learned and reflected the less ready was the\nanswer, until at last I came to the conclusion that I had neither art\nnor part with any of these denominations except the last.... So I took\nthought and invented what I conceived to be the appropriate title of\n'agnostic.'\" And he goes on to explain that the term was used as\nantithetical to the \"gnostic\" of Church history who knew all about\nthings of which Huxley felt himself in ignorance. To all of which one\nmay say that Huxley appears to have given himself a lot of needless\ntrouble. In philosophy there was the term \"Sceptic,\" and in relation to\nreligion the term \"Atheist\" was ready to hand. The latter term certainly\ncovered all that Huxley meant by Agnosticism as applied to the god-idea.\nThe plain, and perhaps brutal truth, is that Huxley was just\nillustrating the fatal tendency of English public men to seek for a\nlabel that will mark them off from an unfashionable heresy even more\nclearly than it separates them from a crumbling orthodoxy. It is\ncertainly suggestive to find, in this connection, a French writer of\ndistinction, M. Emile Boutmy, pointing out that in France, Spencer,\nMill, and Huxley would all have been professed atheists. (_The English\nPeople_, p. 44.) But France is France, and has always possessed the\ncourage to follow ideas to their logical conclusion.\n\nWhen it comes to a definition of Agnosticism Professor Huxley's position\nbecomes still more difficult of understanding. Agnosticism, he says, is\na method the essence of which may be expressed in a single principle.\n\"Positively the principle may be expressed; in matters of the intellect\nfollow your reason so far as it will take you without regard to any\nother consideration. And negatively; in matters of the intellect, do not\npretend that conclusions are certain which are not demonstrated or\ndemonstrable.\" So far as this goes we have here perfectly sound advice.\nBut why call it Agnosticism? It is no more than the perfectly sound\nadvice that we must be honest in our investigations, and make no claim\nto certainty where the conditions of certainty do not exist. But we have\nno more right to call this Agnosticism than we have to give the\nmultiplication table a sectarian or party label.\n\nNor do we believe for a moment that what Huxley had in view, or what\nother agnostics have in view, is no more than a counsel of intellectual\nperfection. What is really at issue here is one's attitude of mind in\nrelation to the belief in God. It is in pretending to know about God\nthat the theist finds himself at issue with the Agnostic, and it is to\nmark himself off from the theist that the Agnostic gives himself a\nspecial label. And the trouble of the Agnostic is that so soon as he\nbegins to justify his position, either he states the atheistic case or\nhe fails altogether to make his case good.\n\nThere is, perhaps, one other topic on which agnosticism may be\nprofessed, and that is in connection with the question of what is known\nas the problem of existence. We may profess our belief in the reality of\nan external world, but deny that any _knowledge_ of it is possible. Here\nwe assert that what \"substance,\" or \"reality,\" or \"thing in itself,\" is\nwe do not know and cannot know. But while many attempts are made under\nthe name of \"the Absolute,\" etc., to identify this with \"God,\" it is\nreally nothing of the kind. The belief or disbelief in an external\n\"reality\" is a problem in philosophy, it has no genuine connection with\ntheology. To identify the two is a mere dialectical subterfuge. Mere\nexistence is an ultimate fact that must be accepted by all. It is only\non the question of its nature that controversy can arise.\n\nWhatever may be claimed on behalf of Agnosticism, it certainly cannot be\nclaimed that it carries a clear and a definite meaning. As we have seen,\nProfessor Huxley used the word to indicate the fact that he was without\nknowledge of certain things. But what things? To answer that we have to\ngo beyond the word itself--that is, we have to define the definition. As\nit stands we may profess agnosticism in relation to anything from the\nprospects of a general election within a given period to the question of\nwhether Mars is inhabited or not. If, then, it is said that what is\nimplied is that the Agnostic is without a knowledge of God, or without a\nbelief in God, the reply is that is exactly the position of the Atheist.\nAnd there was no need whatever to coin a new word, if all that was\nwanted was to express the atheistic position. Still less justifiable was\nit to proceed to misinterpret Atheism in order to justify a departure\nthat need never have been made.\n\nOne cannot at this point forbear a word on Mr.--afterwards Sir--Leslie\nStephen's curious justification of his choice of the word Agnosticism.\nAfter the enlightening remark that the word \"Atheist\" carries with it an\nunpleasant connotation, he says:--\n\n\n     Dogmatic Atheism--the doctrine that there is no God, whatever may\n     be meant by God--is to say the least of it a rare phase of opinion.\n     The word Agnosticism, on the other hand, seems to imply a fairly\n     accurate appreciation of a form of creed already common and daily\n     spreading. The Agnostic is one who asserts--what no one\n     denies--that there are limits to human intelligence. (_An\n     Agnostic's Apology_; p. 1).\n\n\nAnd he then goes on to assert that the subject matter of theology lies\nbeyond these limits.\n\nNow putting on one side this perversion of the meaning of Atheism, was\nit really worth while to coin a new word to affirm what no one denies?\nTheists do not deny the limitations of knowledge, on the contrary, they\nare always affirming it. Neither do all theists deny that \"God\" is\nunknowable. That has been affirmed by them over and over again. What\nthey have claimed is that \"God\" is apprehended rather than known, and\nthey affirm his existence on much the same grounds that others assert\nthe real existence of an external world. Professor Flint's comments on\nStephen's performance are quite to the point, and the more noteworthy as\ncoming from a clergyman. He says:\n\n\n     The word Atheist is a thoroughly honest, unambiguous term. It means\n     one who does not believe in God, and it means neither more nor\n     less. It implies neither blame nor approval, neither desert of\n     punishment nor of reward. If a purely dogmatic Atheism be a rare\n     phase of opinion critical Atheism is a very common one, and there\n     is also a form of Atheism which is professedly sceptical or\n     agnostic, but often in reality dogmatic or gnostic. (_Agnosticism_;\n     p. 69).\n\n\nThe more carefully one examines the reasons given for the preference for\nthe word Agnosticism, the clearer it becomes that the real motive is not\nthe wish to obtain mental clarity, but the desire to avoid association\nwith a term that carries, religiously, disagreeable associations. The\ncare taken by so many who call themselves Agnostics to explain to the\nreligious world that they are not atheists, is almost enough to prove\nthis. Indeed, the position is well summed up by Mr. John M. Robertson:--\n\n\n     The best argument for the use of the name Agnostic is simply that\n     the word Atheist has been so long covered with all manner of\n     ignorant calumny that it is expedient to use a new term which\n     though in some respects faulty, has a fair start, and will in time\n     have a recognised meaning. The case, so stated, is reasonable; but\n     there is the _per contra_ that whatever the motive with which the\n     name is used, it is now tacked to half a dozen conflicting forms of\n     doctrine, varying loosely between Theism and Pantheism. The name of\n     Atheist escapes that drawback. Its unpopularity has saved it from\n     half-hearted and half-minded patronage.\n\n\nSo that, on the best showing, we are to take \"Agnostic\" on the professed\nground that it is more exact than \"Atheism,\" but on the real ground that\nit is less unpopular, waiting meanwhile for the time when it shall have\nbecome more exact than it is by becoming accepted in the same sense as\nthe Atheism that has previously been rejected. Courage and\nstraightforwardness saves a lot of trouble.\n\nMr. Bailey Saunders (_Quest of Faith_, p. 7) calls agnosticism \"a plea\non behalf of suspended judgment,\" and this is a favourite expression.\nIt gives one an air of impartiality, with the comforting reflection that\nit will please the socially stronger side. But suspended judgment on\nwhat? To hold one's judgment in suspense implies that we have at least a\nworkable comprehension of the subject in dispute, and that judgment is\nsuspended because the evidence produced is not adequate to command\ndecision. But is that the case here? Does the Agnostic claim that the\nevidence produced by the theist is merely inadequate, or that it is\nirrelevant? Surely he holds the latter position. And if that is the\ncase, then he does not suspend judgment, for the simple reason that\nthere is no case made out concerning which judgment is to be suspended.\nThere is simply no case before the court. For the Agnostic, no more than\nthe Atheist, can attach no intelligible meaning to \"God.\" He must have\nit defined to understand it, and when it is defined he rejects it\nwithout ceremony. And it is quite obvious that when an Agnostic says, \"I\nknow nothing about God,\" he means more than that; otherwise it would not\nbe worth the saying. He really means that no one else knows either. He\nasserts that a knowledge of god is impossible to anyone, because it does\nnot present the possibility of being known. \"God,\" standing alone is a\nmeaningless word, and how can one suspend judgment concerning the truth\nof an unintelligible proposition?\n\nFor here are the plain facts of the situation. If we ask the Agnostic\nwhether he suspends judgment concerning the existence of the gods of any\nsavage peoples, the reply is in the negative. If we put the same\nquestion concerning the god of the Bible, or of the Mohammedan, or of\nany other of the world's theologies we receive the same answer. There is\nnothing here to suspend judgment about, the characters and qualities of\nthe gods being such that there admits of no doubt as to their imaginary\ncharacter. Or if it is said that the Agnostic, while dismissing the gods\nof the various theologies, savage and civilised, as being impossible,\nsuspends judgment as to the existence of a \"supreme mind,\" or of a\n\"creative intelligence,\" the reply is that one cannot suspend judgment\nas to the possible existence of an inconceivability. For \"mind\" must be\nmind, as we know it. And it is a downright absurdity to speak of the\npossible existence of a \"mind\" while divesting it of all the qualities\nthat characterise mind as we know it. Really between the statement that\nA. does not exist, and the affirmation that A. does exist, but differs\nin every conceivable particular from all known A.'s there is no\ndifference whatever. We are denying its existence in the very act of\naffirming it.\n\nFurther, we quite agree with Mr. F. C. S. Schiller (_Riddles of the\nSphinx_, pp. 17-19) that in practice such suspense of judgment is\nimpossible. We suspend our judgment as to whether we shall die to-morrow\nor at some indefinite future date, and for that reason we make our\narrangements in view of either contingency. We suspend judgment as to\nthe honesty of an employee, and our attitude towards him is governed by\nthat fact. And so with the question of a god. In one way or another we\nare bound to indicate our judgment on the subject. We must act either as\nthough we believe in the possibility or in the impossibility of \"divine\"\ninterference. If the mental hesitancy of the respectable Agnostic were\naccompanied by a corresponding timidity in action life would be\nimpossible.\n\nA less common plea on behalf of Agnosticism, but one on which a word\nmust be said, is that the agnostic attitude is more \"reverential\" than\nthat of atheism. But why in the name of all that is reasonable should\none profess reverence towards something of which one knows nothing?\nReverence, to be intelligible, must be directed towards an intelligent\nobject, and we must have grounds for believing it to be worthy of\nreverence. Reverence towards our fellow creatures is a reasonable enough\nsentiment, but what is there reasonable in an expression of reverence\ntowards something that can only be thought of--and even this is\nunwarranted--as a force? The truth is that this expression of reverence\nis no more than the flickering survival of religion. Numbers have\nreached the stage at which they can perceive the unreasonable nature of\nreligious beliefs, but they have not yet managed to achieve liberation\nfrom the traditional emotional attitude towards these beliefs. In other\nwords, the development of the emotional and the intellectual sides of\ntheir nature have been unequal, and for these the \"Unknowable\" has\nsimply served as a peg on which to hang religious feelings that have\nbeen robbed of all intellectual support. The semi-religious Agnostic\nthus represents a transition form, interesting enough to all who observe\nhow curiously decaying types strive to perpetuate themselves, but which\nis bound to disappear in the process of intellectual evolution.\n\nFinally, one would like from the Agnostic some authoritative\nannouncement as to his position in relation to what is known concerning\nthe origin of the god-idea. So far as professed theists are concerned\none expects this to be ignored. On the part of non-theists one expects a\nmore logical attitude. In this case it is common ground with the Atheist\nand the Agnostic that the idea of god owes its beginnings to the\nignorance of primitive man. We know the facts on which this idea was\nbased, and we know that all these are now differently explained. The\nbelief that there is a god governing nature is just one of those\nblunders made by primitive man, and is on all fours with the numerous\nother blunders he makes concerning himself and the world around him.\nKnowing this, and accepting this, believing that \"god\" springs from the\nsame set of conditions that gave rise to fairies and spirits of various\nkinds, one would like to know on what ground the Agnostic definitely\nrejects the grounds on which the idea of god is based, while professing\na state of suspended judgment about the existence of the object created\nby this primitive blunder. It is certainly surprising to find those who\naccept the natural origin of the god-idea, when they come to deal with\ncurrent religion talk as though it were merely a question of the\ninconclusiveness of religious arguments. It is nothing of the kind. The\nfinal reply to the arguments set forth on behalf of Theism is, not that\nthey are inconclusive, but that they are absolutely irrelevant to the\nquestion at issue. We cannot remain undecided because there is nothing\nto remain undecided about. We know that the idea of god is pure myth,\nand was never anything but myth. A belief that began in error, and which\nhas no other basis than error, cannot by any possible argument be\nconverted into a truth. The old question was, \"Can man by searching find\nout God?\" The modern answer is an emphatic affirmative. Substantially we\nhave by searching found out God. We know the origin and history of one\nof the greatest delusions that ever possessed the human mind. God has\nbeen found out. Analytically and synthetically we understand the\ngod-idea as previous generations could not understand it. It has been\nexplained; and the logical consequence of the explanation is--Atheism.\n\nUltimately, then, we come to this: (1) The Agnosticism that concerns\nitself with a confession of ignorance concerning the nature of\n\"existence,\" has no necessary connection with religion, and is only made\nto have such by a confusion of two distinct things. (2) The plea of a\nsuspended judgment is invalid, since there is nothing about which one\ncan suspend a decision. (3) The Agnosticism that professes a\nsemi-religious feeling of reverence towards the \"Unknowable\" is\nfundamentally upon all fours with the religious feelings of the ordinary\nbeliever. Worshipping the Unknowable is more ridiculous than worshipping\nHuxley's \"wilderness of apes.\" The apes _might_ take some intelligent\ninterest in the antics of their devotees; but to print our hypostatised\nignorance in capital letters and then profess a feeling of veneration\nfor it is as ridiculous a proceeding as the world has seen. After all,\nan absurdity is never quite so grotesque as when it is tricked out in\nscientific phrases and paraded as the outcome of profound philosophic\nthinking. (4) The only Agnosticism that seems capable of justifying\nitself is an Agnosticism that is indistinguishable from Atheism. To\nagain cite Professor Flint, Atheist \"means one who does not believe in\nGod, and it means neither more nor less.\" The Agnostic is also one who\nis without belief in a god, every argument he uses to justify his\nposition is and has been used as a justification of Atheism. Atheist is\nreally \"a thoroughly honest, unambiguous term,\" it admits of no\npaltering and of no evasion, and the need of the world, now as ever, is\nfor clear-cut issues and unambiguous speech.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nATHEISM AND MORALS.\n\n\nLooking at the world as it is one cannot forbear a mild wonder at the\nfears expressed at the probable consequences to morals of a general\nacceptance of Atheism. One would have thought that the world would not\nrun a very great danger of becoming worse on that account, and that,\nseeing the way in which all forms of rascality have flourished, and\nstill maintain themselves, without in the least disturbing people's\nreligious convictions, one might even feel inclined to risk a change in\nthe hopes of improvement. Mainly, indeed, one might say that those who\nare affected by religious belief are such as can very well do without\nit, while those who stand in urgent need of moral improvement seldom\nshow that their religious belief has any very beneficial effect on their\nconduct.\n\nYet nothing is more common than to find the theist, when driven off all\nother grounds of defence, protesting against a deliberate propaganda of\nAtheism on the ground of its probable harmful consequences to morals.\nThis, not because those who have publicly professed Atheism are open to\nthe charge of loose living, but on account of those who at present\nbelieve in religion, and whose loss of belief would possibly upset their\nmoral equilibrium. It is a curious position for a theist to take up,\nsince it implies that while the Atheist as we know him shows no\ndeterioration of character in consequence of his loss of belief, we\ncannot be so certain of the present believers in deity. They are formed\nof poorer clay, and once convinced that there is no God with whom they\nhave to reckon, there is no telling what will happen. So we are urged to\nlet well alone, and leave believers with their illusions lest their loss\nshould present us with a very unpleasant reality.\n\nThis fear is expressed in various ways, but in one way or another it is\ntolerably common. The following which reached me from a well known man\nof letters probably puts the argument as fairly and as temperately as it\ncan be put, and therefore in dealing with that I cannot be accused of\ntaking the theist at an unfair advantage. His conclusions are summarised\nin the following paragraphs. (The summary is the author's, not mine.)\n\n(1) The decentish code of morals which prevails in this twentieth\ncentury is the outcome of all the human ages. From the very first,\neverywhere and all the time, it has, and continues to be, inextricably\nintertwined and influenced by Theistic beliefs, even when and where such\nbeliefs have been the crudest and most debased form of polytheism.\n\n(2) The ethical atmosphere in which we now live, after having had such\nan origin and history, remains strongly and frankly pervaded by religion\nof a Theistic type. Atheist, Agnostic, and Theist alike have to live in\nthis atmosphere, and consciously or unconsciously, are subject to its\ninfluence.\n\n(3) Even if we could set up a wholly secular code of morals, derived\nentirely from the exigencies of, tribal, communal, and national life, I\ntake it that such a code would be inadequate to form the type of\nindividual character we most admire, and which acts under a sense of\n\"ought\" rather than of \"must.\" The latter is often the mere demand of\ngregarious or individual comfort and convenience; the former may be\nquite opposed to the inclinations of the individual, and yet bring into\nplay irksome but ennobling springs of action which a purely secular code\ncannot touch.\n\nNow these statements put the case for the theist as moderately and as\nwell as it can be put, and I think that they are worthy of a little\ncareful examination. It may be observed that there is no insinuation\nthat Atheists are actually worse than other people, only the fear that\nin the absence of some form of theism the higher ethical motive cannot\nbe roused, and that therefore character will suffer. Well, we are none\nof us free from the contagion of our environment, and the most powerful\ninfluences are often enough those that it would be difficult to specify\nin any given instance. It is not only that the influence of the higher\nmembers of society affect the lower. The lower is not without its\ninfluence on the higher. But the question here is not really whether we\nare all exposed to the general influence of the group to which we\nbelong, that, I think, is undeniable, the real question at issue is\nwhether the determining influence on conduct is theistic or not. And I\nthink it will be found that while the one thing is asserted it is the\nother that is proven.\n\nSo far as the first proposition is concerned it may be taken for granted\nthat our present state is the product of all past evolution, and that in\nthe course of that evolution theistic beliefs have been closely--not\ninextricably--connected with morals. But this is not alone true of\nmorality, it is true of every branch of human thought and of every\naspect of human life. Art, science, literature, have all been closely\nconnected with religious beliefs. Necessarily so. Early human history is\nspent under the shadow of superstition, and its dominating influence\naffects the form of every aspect of life. But as the course of\ndevelopment has been to separate the essential from the non-essential\nand to place most of each department of life on a self-supporting basis,\nit would not seem an unreasonable conclusion that ethics will follow the\nsame lines. In fact, it is following the same lines. There are few\neducated people nowadays who would claim that morality cannot exist\napart from religion, they are content to say, as my correspondent does,\nthat in the absence of religion belief the higher aspects of morality\nwill suffer.\n\nOur morality, we are told, is the outcome of all the human ages. I go\nfurther than that and assert that it is the outcome of all the human and\nof all the animal ages. There is no break in nature, and to the\nevolutionist the development of the human from the animal is plain. And\nit should scarcely need pointing out nowadays that nearly every one of\nthe fundamental qualities of man can be seen in germ in the animal\nworld. I only emphasise the point here because it is so often forgotten\nthat morality is fundamentally the expression of those conditions under\nwhich associated life is found possible and profitable, and that so far\nas any quality is declared to be moral its justification and meaning\nmust be found in that direction. The question of incentive we will come\nto later; for the moment it is enough to insist upon the fact that\nmorality is fashioned, in its fundamentals, with reference to facts, not\nwith reference to speculative beliefs. Beliefs may influence morality\nfor awhile, but the persistent operation of social selection secures a\ngeneral conformity between conduct and the conditions upon which life\ndepends. That is the fundamental fact to be remembered in all\ndiscussions of morality, although it is the fact that is most often\nignored. Ultimately life determines moral teaching, it is not moral\nteaching that determines life.\n\nLife not alone determines morality, but it determines religion as well.\nWhat else is the meaning of all those discarded forms of religious\nbelief, those bodies of dead gods, that meet the student of history as\nthe remains of extinct animals meet the geologist in his unravelment of\nthe story of the earth's vicissitudes? They are the result of a lack of\nadaptation to new conditions to which they could not accommodate\nthemselves. Once the gods lorded it over man as the gigantic dinosaur\nlorded it in his day over lesser animals. And in the one case, as in the\nother, a change in the environment brought about their doom. Natural\nselection determines the survival of religions as of animal forms, and a\nreligion to survive must become increasingly utilitarian in character,\ncertainly there is a point beyond which the opposite tendency cannot be\ncarried.\n\nAssume, for example, that a religion existed of a grossly anti-social\ncharacter, one that teaches doctrines that are subversive of the general\nsocial well-being. One of two things must result. If the religion is\nstrong enough to enforce its teaching the society it dominates will\ndisappear, and the religion will die out with it. If, on the other hand,\nit cannot enforce its teaching, or can get it accepted only in a\nmodified form, then either the religion disappears in its original form,\nor it is modified to get itself established. To live, religion must\nestablish some sort of harmony between its teachings and the conditions\nof life. It may retard the development of life, but it must not retard\nto the point of destruction. This is all that is really involved in what\nis called the purification of religious teaching. In reality there is no\nsuch thing. The purification is a modification, and it is modified in\norder that it may become acceptable to the society in which it is\nexisting. The ascetic epidemic, the various disgusting sects that have\nsprung into existence from time to time during the course of Christian\nhistory, have all died out from this cause. As with the individual, so\nwith society, the forces of which we are conscious generally move upon\nthe surface. Of the underlying ones we are mostly unaware.\n\nThe truth is, then, that behind all our consciously elaborated theories\nof life there are operative the unconscious or sub-conscious forces of\nevolution. There is, of course, a certain area of conduct in which\nspeculative opinions play their part, and where actions may be\narbitrarily classed as good or bad. But this area is, of necessity,\nlimited, and for the reasons that have been given above. Properly\nunderstood morality is not something very abstract, but something that\nis very concrete. The underlying reason for morality is always the same,\nand we are compelled to hark back to it for justification. And no\nrejection of religion can alter the basis upon which morality rests.\n\nThe proposition that Atheist, Agnostic, and Theist breathe the same\natmosphere and are affected by the same influences is, therefore, one\nthat is two-edged. If our intellectual atmosphere is saturated with\nreligious influences, it is also saturated with social influences of a\nmuch more fundamental character, and which have been perpetually\ncorrecting religious extravagances. And it is at least open to the\nAtheist to retort that we have to thank this circumstance that religious\nbeliefs have not been more injurious than has been actually the case.\nIf, for example, the ascetic epidemic of the early Christian centuries\nhad increased in force and had continued operative, European society\nwould have disappeared. That this was not the case was due to the\nstrength of the sexual and social instincts, against which religion was\nunable to maintain its hold. In the change of opinion over the better\nway to spend Sunday, or in the decay of the doctrine of eternal\ndamnation, we have the same point illustrated. Right through history it\nhas been the social instincts that have acted as a corrective to\nreligious extravagance. And it is worth noting that with the exception\nof a little gain from the practice of casuistry, religions have\ncontributed nothing towards the building up of a science of ethics. On\nthe contrary it has been a very potent cause of confusion and\nobstruction. Fictitious vices and virtues have been created and the real\nmoral problem lost sight of. It gave the world the morality of the\nprison cell, instead of the tonic of the rational life. And it was\nindeed fortunate for the race that conduct was not ultimately dependent\nupon a mass of teachings that had their origin in the brains of savages,\nand were brought to maturity during the darkest period of European\ncivilisation.\n\nIn dealing with the two first propositions I have, by implication,\nanswered the third--namely, that a wholly secular authentic code of\nmorals would be inadequate to form the highest type of character; it\nmight supply a \"must,\" but it could not supply an \"ought.\"\n\nThe first and obvious reply to an objection of this kind is that our\nworking code of morals is secular already. In life, if we observe\nwithout prejudice, it is not difficult to see that one's neighbours,\nfriends, social class, etc., have far more force in shaping conduct than\nspeculative theories. In its widest sense natural selection determines\nwhat actions shall be declared to be moral. Of this we may take the\nuniversal feeling against homicide. This is but an expression of the\ntruth that social life would be impossible were it otherwise. And when\nwe pass from the general to the special we meet with much the same\nprinciple operating in society. The average burglar pursues his calling\nwith no special sense of its wrongness, although he may have a keen\nsense of its dangers. But while burgling with a fairly easy conscience,\nhe does flinch at breaking the code of honour set up by his\nfellow-burglars. And at the other extreme we have the \"gentleman\" with\nhis code of honour which forbids him not to pay a gambling debt, but\ntakes no count of keeping a poor tradesman out of his money. In each of\nthese cases the determining factor is not theory but fact, and the fact\nhere is association with our fellow countrymen or with a special social\nclass. Morality, in short, is social or nothing. Moral laws are\nmeaningless apart from social life. Every moral command implies the\nexistence of a social medium, and it is no more than a study in history\nto see how this social medium has been continuously shaping and\nreshaping human nature. The determination here is not conscious, but it\nis real, however much disguised it may be by various forms or theories.\nAnd when we realise this, it is no more than a truism to say that a\nchange in religious belief can no more destroy morality than a change in\ngovernment can destroy society.\n\nBut in saying that the essence of morality is unreasoning I do not mean\nthat it is unreasonable. All I mean is that it can receive a reasonable\njustification, and that no matter how lofty the development it has its\nbasis in the fundamental conditions of associated animal and human life.\nWe may surround the subject with a vague and attractive idealistic\nverbalism, but we come back to this as a starting point. The love of\nfamily, with all its attendant values, rests upon the fact of crude\nsexual desire, refined, of course, during the passing of many\ngenerations, but dependent upon it all the same. Remove the sexual\ndesire and the family feelings are inexplicable. Thus, the _reason_ for\nthe existence of the sexual instinct is race preservation, but the end\nhas been achieved in a quite unreasoning manner. In the animal world at\nlarge there is certainly no conscious desire for the production of\noffspring, nor is there with the mass of human beings. There is the\ndesire to gratify an impulse, and very little more. And for the\nstrengthening of an instinct there need not be, nor is there, any\nconsciousness of its social value. All that is necessary is that it\nshall be useful. Natural selection attends to the rest.\n\nThis will, I think, supply an answer to the contention that secular\nethics can supply a \"must,\" but not an \"ought\"; that is, it may show\nthat an individual should act in accordance with his inclinations, but\nin cases where these clash with the social well being, it can supply no\nreason why the former should give way to the latter.\n\nThe argument rests upon a dual confusion. First, the moral \"ought\" is no\nmore than an organised and conscious form of \"must,\" and not something\ndistinct from it. One may test the matter by taking a case. A man says,\nI ought so to work as to promote the general welfare of society. If we\nseek to find the source of this feeling we come ultimately upon the\nfeeling of tribal solidarity in virtue of which certain tribes survive\nin the struggle for existence. It is gregariousness struggling into\nconsciousness. The moral \"ought\" is an idealised form of the primitive\ntribal \"must.\" And the \"must\" of primitive life is encouraged and\ndeveloped because it is one of the conditions of survival.\n\nThe second point of confusion is based upon a supposed opposition\nbetween individual inclinations and an ideal conception of duty. That\nthe two are often, as a matter of fact, in conflict, must be admitted.\nAnd the cause is that while our inclinations represent a heritage from\nthe past, our ideals are a projection into the future. But the\ncontention is based upon their supposed permanent hostility, and that\nneed not be taken for granted. For the whole course of social evolution\ntends to bring about a substantial identification of personal and social\nwell-being. More and more as the race develops it is being recognised\nthat there is no real individual life apart from social life, of which\nit is the creation and the expression. Such antagonism as exists is the\ninevitable result of a conflict between an organism and its adaptation\nto a changing environment. And from this point of view the whole growth\nof man is in the nature of an expansion of his sympathies and sense of\nduty over an ever-widening area. The primitive egoism of the tribal\nindividual is extended to the nation, that of the nation to the empire,\nand thence to the whole of humanity. There is no destruction or denial\nof self in such cases, it is a development of the sense of self over an\nenlarging area.\n\nFinally, if a secular code of morals will not suffice, it is sheer\nrhetoric to say that religion is powerful enough to operate where\nnaturalism fails. On the contrary, in a civilised community religious\nappeals tend to become secular appeals in disguise. On the admission of\nChristian advocates the two most powerful appeals that can be made are\non the one hand, in the name of the fatherhood of god, and on the other,\nthe conception of the Mother and the Child. And what are these but\nappeals to the secular and social feelings of man in the name of\nreligion? It may be granted that Atheism in its appeals to mankind often\nfails, but in this respect is it any worse off than religion? Why, one\nof the standing complaints of religious preachers in all ages is that\ntheir message falls so frequently on deaf ears. There is no more\ncertainty that the religious appeal will meet with success, than there\nis that any other appeal will be successful. And there is the\nunquestionable fact that morality has become stronger as the power of\nreligion has weakened. The higher qualities have asserted themselves\nduring a period of religious disintegration, and the student of morals\nsees in this a promise of a further development in the future.\n\nAnd to all prophecies as to the effects of Atheism on the morality of\nthe future there is the apt reply that they are prophecies and nothing\nelse. And in this respect it is dangerous for the Christian theist to\nappeal to history. For while the consequences of Atheism can be no more\nthan a forecast, which may or may not be justified, the record of\nChristianity is before the world. And we know that the period during\nwhich the influence of Christian theism was strongest, was the period\nwhen the intellectual life of civilised man was at its lowest, morality\nat its weakest, and the general outlook most hopeless. Religious control\ngave us heresy hunts, and Jew hunts, burnings for witchcraft, and magic\nin the place of medicine. It gave us the Inquisition and the _auto da\nfe_, the fires of Smithfield and the night of St. Bartholomew. It gave\nus the war of sects and it helped powerfully to establish the sect of\nwar. It gave us life without happiness, and death cloaked with terror.\nThe Christian record is before us, and it is such that every Church\nblames the others for its existence. Quite as certainly we cannot point\nto a society that has been dominated by Freethinking ideas, but we can\npoint to their existence in all ages, and can show that all progress is\ndue to their presence. We can show that progressive ideas have\noriginated with the least, and have been opposed by the most religious\nsections of society. What religion has done for the world we know; what\nfreethought will do we can only guess. But we are confident that as\nhonesty is possible without the falsity of religion, as duty may be done\nwith no other incentive than its visible consequences on the people\naround us, so life may be lived in honour and closed in peace with no\nother inspiration than comes from the contemplation of the human stream\nfrom which we emerge and into which we finally go.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\nATHEISM INEVITABLE.\n\n\nBetween Theism and Atheism the logical mind may halt, but it cannot rest\nfor long, and in the end the logic of fact works its way. Compromise,\nwhile it may delay the end without preventing its inevitability, is\nquite out of place in matters of the intellect. In the world of practice\ncompromise is often unavoidable, but in that of ideas the sole concern\nshould be for truth. When Whately said that the man who commenced by\nloving Christianity more than truth would continue by loving his own\nsect more than any other, and end by loving himself more than all, he\nplaced his finger on the great moral danger of compromise where opinion\nis concerned. It begins, ostensibly, by considering the respect due to\nan opponent's case, it continues by sacrificing the respect that is due\none's own, and it ends by giving a new sense of value to the very\nopinion it aims at destroying. \"No quarter\" is the only sound rule in\nintellectual warfare, where to take prisoners is only one degree less\ndishonouring than to be taken captive oneself. And the value of an\nopinion is never wholly in the opinion itself. No small part of its\nworth is derived from the way in which it is held, and the importance\nwhich is placed upon it.\n\nWhen Professor Tylor said that the deepest of all divisions in the\nhistory of human thought was that which divided Animism from\nMaterialism, he was saying what I have been endeavouring to say, in\nanother manner, in the foregoing pages. Atheism and supernaturalism are\nfundamental divisions in human thought, and divisions that connote an\nirreconcilable antagonism. The terms not only mark a division, they are\nthe badges of a movement, the indication of a pilgrimage. Dr. Tylor's\nown work and the work of his fellow labourers tell the story in detail,\nand although no one is in a position to write \"finis\" to it, there is no\ndoubt as to what its end will be. And the manner of the pilgrimage is\nquite plain. The starting point is the creation by the befogged\nignorance of primitive man of that welter of ghosts and gods which make\nso much of early existence a veritable nightmare. The journey commences\nin a world in which the \"supernatural\" is omnipresent, in which man's\nchief endeavours is given to win the good will or avert the anger of the\nghosts and gods to whom he has himself given being. And the end, the\nlast stage of the pilgrimage, is a world in which mechanical operations\ntake the place of disembodied intelligences, or of supernatural powers.\nFrom a world in which the gods are everything and do everything to a\nworld in which the gods are nothing and do nothing. The story of that\ntransition is the record of one of the greatest revolutions that has\nhappened in the history of mankind. Its real greatness and far-reaching\nsignificance is not always adequately recognised, even by those who\nwelcome it gladly. Indeed, the narrower interests that suffer from this\nrevolution are more keenly alive to its importance than are those who\nbenefit from its consummation. That is, perhaps, what one ought to\nexpect from the known course of human history. For history would not be\nwhat it is, nor would reforms be so difficult of accomplishment were it\nnot possible to persuade the slave that his servitude guards him from\nthe very evils it perpetuates.\n\nIncidentally the nature of that revolution has been indicated in the\npreceding pages. But a more connected view will form a fitting close to\nthis work. Nothing more than the barest of outlines can be attempted,\nbut such as it is it may serve to illustrate the truth that Atheism is\nmore than the speculative philosophy of a few, that it is in sober truth\nthe logical outcome of mental growth. So far as any phase of human life\ncan be called inevitable Atheism may lay claim to being inescapable. All\nmental growth can be seen leading to it, just as we can see one stage of\nsocial development giving a logical starting point for another stage,\nand which could have been foretold had our knowledge of all the forces\nin operation been precise enough. Atheism is, so to speak, implicit in\nthe growth of knowledge; its complete expression is the consummation of\na process that began with the first questionings of religion. And the\ncompletion of the process means the death of supernaturalism in all its\nforms.\n\nReligion, it has already been said, is something that is acquired, and\nalthough that sounds little better than a commonplace, yet reflection\nproves it to contain an important truth. For it is in the nature of the\nacquisition that its significance lies. Whatever be the earliest stages\nof religion it is at all events clear that its earliest form is in the\nnature of a hypothesis, even though only of the semi-conscious kind that\nexists when man is brought into touch with some new and overpowering\nexperience. Religious ideas are put forth in explanation of something.\nBut all explanation whether by savage or civilised man, must be in terms\nof existing knowledge. No other method is possible. We must explain the\nunknown in terms of the known, and our explanation will be the more\nelaborate and the nearer the truth as our knowledge of the nature of the\nforces are the more exact and extensive. A knowledge of the laws of\ncondensation and evaporation enables a modern to give an explanation of\nthe meaning of a shower of rain that is simply impossible to man in an\nearlier stage of culture. In every case the facts are the same, and in\neach case the explanation given depends upon the knowledge acquired.\n\nNow one radical distinction between an early and a modern explanation of\nthe world is that whereas the former moves from within outward, the\nlatter moves from without inward. Uncivilised man explains the world by\nhimself; civilised man explains himself by the world. The savage\ndescribes the world in terms of his own feelings and passions, the\nscientist regards human qualities as resulting from the relation which\nman holds to the forces around him. The process, while presenting a\nradical difference in form, is yet fundamentally one in essence.\nIgnorant of all that we connote by such an expression as \"natural\nforces,\" whatever explanation is offered by the savage is necessarily in\nterms of the only force with which he is acquainted. But it happens that\nthe only forces which he then fancies he understands are those\nrepresented by his own organisation. What he is conscious of doing is\nprompted by his own will and intelligence. He hurts when he is angry, he\nrewards when he is pleased, and he makes the same assumption regarding\nthe things around him. So far as he explains nature he vitalises it.\nVital force becomes the symbol of all force. And this result expresses a\nmental law that is universally operative. The civilised mind differs\nfrom the savage mind not because the brain functions differently in the\ntwo cases, but solely in consequence of the wider and truer knowledge of\nthe causes of natural phenomena which civilised man possesses. We arrive\nat different conclusions because we start from different premises.\nInevitably, therefore, the first attempt of man to deal with nature\ntakes the form of assuming the operation of a number of personal\nintelligences. Natural objects are alive, and everything that happens to\nman, from the cradle to the grave, is thought of as being either alive\nor controlled by living beings. The world is filled with a crowd of\nghostly beings exercising more or less discordant functions. Against\nthis riot of gods the conception of natural law developes but slowly.\nQuite apart from the natural inertia of the human mind, the fact of\nquestioning the power of these assumed beings involves to the primitive\nmind an element of grave danger. All sorts of things may happen if the\ngods are offended, and in self-defence the tribe feels bound to suppress\nthe critic of religion and of religious ideas. But once the step is\ntaken, the area over which the gods rule is to that extent restricted,\nand with that step Atheism may be said to be born.\n\nWhat Lange said in the opening sentences of his classic \"History of\nMaterialism,\" that \"Materialism is as old as philosophy, but not older,\"\nmay be said with equal truth of Atheism. That, too, is as old as\nphilosophy, since it begins with man's attempts to break away from that\nprimitive interpretation of nature which sees in all phenomena the\naction of personal intelligences. It is of no importance in which branch\nof knowledge the departure was made, whichever department one takes the\nprocess can be seen at work. Astronomy appears to have been the branch\nof knowledge in which the powers of the gods were earliest restricted,\nalthough it was not until the discoveries of Copernicus, Galileo,\nNewton, and Laplace were given to the world that \"God\" vanished\naltogether from that region. Geology follows with the teaching that\nchemical, thermal, and other known forces leave nothing for the gods to\naccomplish. Biology and sociology, dealing with more complex forces, are\nmuch later in the field, but they tread the same path. They provide a\nrefuge for \"God\" for awhile, but it is evident that their complete\ndispossession is no more than a question of time. And even though the\nvery complex character of the forces working in these latter departments\nshould prevent us ever acquiring the same degree of prevision that\nexists in other classes, no difference will be made to the general\nresult. The principle will be fairly established and our ignorance of\ndetails will no longer be made the ground for assertions which, if made\nat all, should rest upon the most exact knowledge. \"God\" will be left\nwith nothing to do, and man will not for ever go on worshipping a God\nwhose sole recommendation is that he exists, nor will the common sense\nof civilised people hold on to a hypothesis when there is nothing left\nfor that hypothesis to explain.\n\nThe single and outstanding characteristic of the conception of god at\nall times and under all conditions is that it is the equivalent of\nignorance. In primitive times it is ignorance of the character of\nnatural forces that leads to the assumption of the existence of gods,\nand in this respect the god-idea has remained true to itself throughout.\nEven to-day whenever the principle of \"God\" is invoked a very slight\nexamination is enough to show that the only reason for this being done\nis our ignorance of the subject before us. Why does anyone assume that\nwe must believe in God in order to explain the beginnings of life? Why\nis \"God\" assumed to be responsible for the order of nature? Why must we\nassume \"God\" to explain mind? The answer to these and to all similar\nquestions is that we do not know, in the sense that we know the cause of\nplanetary motions, how these things came to be. It is not what we know\nabout them that leads to the assumption of god, but what we do not know.\nAnd the converse of that is that so soon as knowledge replaces ignorance\n\"God\" will be dispensed with. It is never a case of believing in God\nbecause of the actual knowledge we possess, but always the appeal to\nweakness and ignorance. From this point of view the colloquial \"God only\nknows!\" expresses the appeal to ignorance even more clearly than the\nelaborate argument of the sophisticated apologist.\n\nThis aspect of the matter was well put by Spinoza. Believers in the\nargument from design, he says, have a method of argument that is a\nreduction, not to the impossible, but to ignorance. Thus,\n\n\n     If a stone falls from a roof on to someone's head and kills him,\n     they will demonstrate by their new method that the stone fell to\n     kill the man; for if it had not by God's will fallen with that\n     object, how could so many circumstances (and there are often many\n     concurrent circumstances) have all happened together by chance.\n     Perhaps you will answer that the event is due to the facts that the\n     wind was blowing, and the man was walking that way. \"But why,\" they\n     will insist, \"was the wind blowing, and why was the wind at that\n     very time blowing that way?\" If you again answer, that the wind had\n     then sprung up because the sea had begun to be agitated the day\n     before, the weather having been previously calm, and that the man\n     had been invited by a friend, they will again insist: \"But why was\n     the sea agitated, and why was the man invited at that time?\" So\n     they will pursue their question from cause to cause, till at last\n     you take refuge in the will of God--in other words, the sanctuary\n     of ignorance. (Appendix to _Ethics_; pt. 1)\n\n\nThe sanctuary of ignorance \"God\" has always been, and the sanctuary of\nignorance it will remain to the end. It has no other function in life. A\nconsciousness of this is shown by the upholders of Theism in the\neagerness with which they welcome every supposed demonstration of the\nimpotence of science, and of the resistance everywhere offered to the\ndevelopment of scientific advance.\n\nSo far, then, as the progress of life makes for the growth of knowledge,\nso far may we safely claim that the development of thought makes for\nAtheism, as we have just said, and to do the religious world justice it\nhas always been quick to realise this, and every great scientific\ngeneralisation--as well as many smaller ones, has been resisted on the\nground that they were atheistic in character and tended to take the\ncontrol of the world out of God's hands. Present-day theists are apt to\ncondemn this attitude of their predecessors, but it can hardly be denied\nthat the logic lies with the earlier representatives. A God who does\nnothing might, for all practical purposes, as well be non-existent. And\na God who is merely in the background of things, who may be responsible\nfor their origin, but having originated them surrenders all control over\ntheir operations, is hardly more serviceable. The modern theist saves\nhis God only by leaving him a negligible quantity in a universe he is\nsupposed to sustain and govern.\n\nAnd it cannot be too often emphasised that the whole basis of exact or\npositive science is atheistic--that is, it is compelled to ignore even\nthe possibility of the existence of God. Every scientific generalisation\nrests upon the constancy of natural forces. On no other basis is it\npossible to give a scientific interpretation to what has gone before or\nto anticipate what is to happen in the future. Every scientific\ncalculation assumes that in the world with which it deals causation is\ninvariable and universal. But if we are to assume the operations of a\n\"God\" at any time or point every scientific calculation would have to be\naccompanied with the D.V. of a prayer meeting. To argue from the past to\nthe future would be futile. God might have operated then, no one could\nbe certain he will operate now. Or he might have operated in the far\npast, but he might not in the future. In either case the assumption of a\nGod would be fatal to exact scientific calculations. Thus in sheer self\ndefence, in order to preserve its character as science, science is\ncompelled to discard even the possibility of the existence of a\ncontrolling intelligence. As one eminent theistic advocate admits,\n\"Science has no need, and indeed, can make no use, in any particular\ninstance of the theistic hypothesis.\"[6] It is only when supernaturalism\nis partly excluded from human thought that science can be said to really\ncommence its existence; and in proportion as our conception of the\nuniverse becomes that of an aggregate of non-conscious forces--or of a\nsingle force with many forms producing given results under given\nconditions, only then does our view of the universe reach completion.\n\nA study of the nature and tendency of human development does, therefore,\nprovide a very strong presumption in favour of atheism. All growth here\nis in favour of atheism and away from theism. In the beginning we have\nthe gods everywhere and dominating everything. They do everything and\ncontrol everything. \"God\" is the one universal primitive hypothesis. And\nall subsequent development is to its discrediting. There is no growth in\nthe idea of god, there is only an attenuation. The gods grow fewer as\nthe race approaches maturity. Their activities cease as man becomes\naware of the character of the forces around him. And it may be further\nnoted that this decline of the belief in deity is brought about as much\nby sheer pressure of experience as by pure reason. The majority of\npeople do not reason themselves out of the belief in god, they outgrow\nit. People cease to believe in the gods because they experience no\ncompulsion to believe in them. The logic of fact is ultimately more\npowerful than the logic of theory, and as environmental forces brought\nthe gods into existence, so environmental forces carry them out again.\n\nNow Atheism does but make explicit in words what has long been implicit\nin practice. It takes the god-idea, examines it, and explains it out of\nexistence. It admits the reality of gods as it admits the reality of\nghosts and fairies and witches. They are subjective, not objective,\nrealities. Atheism takes the god-idea, explains its origin, describes\nits subsequent development, and in so doing indicates its ultimate fate.\nIn this sense Atheism is, as I have said, no more than the final stage\nof a long historical process. The theistic phase of thought is an\ninevitable one in human evolution, but it is no more a permanent one\nthan is the belief in hobgoblins. One might here paraphrase Bacon and\nsay, \"A little philosophy inclineth a man to belief in the gods, but\ndepth in philosophy leads to their rejection as a false and useless\nhypothesis.\" It is true that thinking brought the gods into the world;\nit is also true that adequate thinking carries them out again.\n\nThe cardinal truth is, of course, that the hypothesis of mind in nature\ndoes not owe its existence to an exact knowledge of things but to its\nabsence. Its origin must be sought in a pre-scientific age and its\npersistence in a number of extraneous circumstances which have\nperpetuated a belief that would otherwise have inevitably disappeared.\nAnd it would indeed be a matter for surprise if this belief--said by\ntheists to be of all beliefs the most profound--should be the one\nspeculation on which savage thought has justified itself. On no other\nquestion did the primitive mind reach truth. Universally its\nspeculations concerning the world were discovered to be wrong. On this\none topic we are asked to believe that the savage was absolutely right.\n\nFrom the age of fetichism--rightly called by Comte the creative age in\ntheology--the history of the god-idea has been a history of a series of\nmodifications and rejections. Scarce an invention that has not slain a\ngod, scarce a discovery has not marked the burying-place of a discarded\ndeity. Criticism reduced the gods in number and limited them in power.\nAdvancing knowledge pushed them back till nature, \"rid of her haughty\nlords,\" is conceived as a huge mechanism, self-acting, self-adjusting,\nand self-repairing. Even in the mouths of religionists \"God\" to-day\nstands for little more than a force. We must not describe him as\npersonal, as intelligent, or as conscious, and between this and the\nexistence assumed by atheistic science it is impossible to detect any\nvital difference. Atheism, then, takes its stand upon the observed trend\nof human history, upon a scrutiny of the facts of nature, and upon an\nexamination of the origin and contents of the god-idea. And upon these\ngrounds it may fairly claim to be irrefutable and inevitable.\nCircumstances may obstruct its universal acceptance as a reasoned mental\nattitude, but that merely delays, it does not destroy the certainty of\nits final triumph.\n\nWith the supposed direful consequences that would follow the triumph of\nAtheism I have not dealt with at length. These are the bugbears which\nthe designing normally employ in order to frighten the timid and\ncredulous. Mental uprightness and moral integrity are certainly not the\nproperty of one religion, nor can it be said with truth that they belong\nto any. And examining the histories of religion it is a fair assumption\nthat in whatever direction the world may suffer from the disappearance\nof religion there will be no moral catastrophe. Looking at the whole\ncourse of human history, and noting how the vilest and most ruinous\npractices have been ever associated with religion, and have ever relied\nupon religion for support, the cause for speculation is, not what will\nhappen to the world when religion dies out, but how human society has\nmanaged to flourish while the belief in the gods ruled.\n\nFortunately for human society nature has not left the operation of the\nfundamental virtues dependent upon the acceptance of this or that theory\nof the world. The social and family instincts, which are inseparable\nfrom our nature as men and women, and which operate in ways of which we\nare largely unconscious, are the grounds of all the higher and finer\nvirtues, and while a change in opinion may affect their operation here\nand there, it can never alter their fundamental character. Conduct, in\nshort, comes from life, it is not the creation of a theory to be\ndismissed by resolution or refashioned by a vote.\n\nWhat Atheism would mean in practice would be an enormous concentration\nof energy upon purely human affairs, and a judgment of conduct in terms\nof human happiness and prosperity. And that certainly furnishes no cause\nfor alarm. It is, indeed, our greatest need. We need an awakening to the\nuntapped power and possibilities of human nature. If the gods die, man\ntheir creator still lives; and the creative energy which once covered\nthe face of nature with innumerable gods, which spent itself in the\nattempt to win their favour, and which called forth a heaven in the\nendeavour to redress the wrongs of earth, may, if properly applied, yet\ncover the earth with homes in which men and women, rendered purer by\nlove and stronger by knowledge, will rise superior to the fabled gods\nbefore whom they once bowed in blind adoration.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[6] Prof. Ward \"Naturalism and Agnosticism\" Vol. I., p. 23.","title":"Theism or Atheism: The Great Alternative","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":57265}