[* As an incident in the life of any one favored with the
privilege, a visit to the home of Col. Robert G. Ingersoll
is certain to be recalled as a most pleasant and profitable
experience. Although not a sympathizer with the great
Agnostic's religious views, yet I have long admired his
ability, his humor, his intellectual honesty and courage.
And it was with gratification that I accepted the good
offices of a common friend who recently offered to introduce
me to the Ingersoll domestic circle in Gramercy Park. Here
I found the genial Colonel, surrounded by his children, his
grandchildren, and his amiable wife, whose smiling greeting
dispelled formality and breathed "Welcome" in every
syllable. The family relationship seemed absolutely ideal--
the very walls emitting an atmosphere of art and music, of
contentment and companionship, of mutual trust, happiness
and generosity.
But my chief desire was to elicit Colonel Ingersoll's
personal views on questions related to the New Thought and
its attitude on matters on which he is known to have very
decided opinions. My request for a private chat was
cordially granted. During the conversation that ensued--(the
substance of which is presented to the readers of _Mind_ in
the following paragraphs, with the Colonel's consent)--I was
impressed most deeply, not by the force of his arguments,
but by the sincerity of his convictions. Among some of his
more violent opponents, who presumably lack other
opportunities of becoming known, it is the fashion to accuse
Ingersoll of having really no belief in his own opinions.
But, if he convinced me of little else, he certainly,
without effort, satisfied my mind that this accusation is a
slander. Utterly mistaken in his views he may be; but if so,
his errors are more honest than many of those he points out
in the King James version of the Bible. If his pulpit
enemies could talk with this man by his own fireside, they
would pay less attention to Ingersoll himself and more to
what he says. They would consider his _meaning_, rather than
his motive.
As the Colonel is the most conspicuous denunciator of
intolerance and bigotry in America, he has been inevitably
the greatest victim of these obstacles to mental freedom.
"To answer Ingersoll" is the pet ambition of many a young
clergyman--the older ones have either acquired prudence or
are broad enough to concede the utility of even Agnostics in
the economy of evolution. It was with the very subject that
we began our talk--the uncharitableness of men, otherwise
good, in their treatment of those whose religious views
differ from their own.]
_Question_. What is your conception of true intellectual hospitality?
As Truth can brook no compromises, has it not the same limitations
that surround social and domestic hospitality?
_Answer_. In the republic of mind we are all equals. Each one is
sceptered and crowned. Each one is the monarch of his own realm.
By "intellectual hospitality" I mean the right of every one to
think and to express his thought. It makes no difference whether
his thought is right or wrong. If you are intellectually hospitable
you will admit the right of every human being to see for himself;
to hear with his own ears, see with his own eyes, and think with
his own brain. You will not try to change his thought by force,
by persecution, or by slander. You will not threaten him with
punishment--here or hereafter. You will give him your thought,
your reasons, your facts; and there you will stop. This is
intellectual hospitality. You do not give up what you believe to
be the truth; you do not compromise. You simply give him the
liberty you claim for yourself. The truth is not affected by your
opinion or by his. Both may be wrong. For many years the church
has claimed to have the "truth," and has also insisted that it is
the duty of every man to believe it, whether it is reasonable to
him or not. This is bigotry in its basest form. Every man should
be guided by his reason; should be true to himself; should preserve
the veracity of his soul. Each human being should judge for himself.
The man that believes that all men have this right is intellectually
hospitable.
_Question_. In the sharp distinction between theology and religion
that is now recognized by many theologians, and in the liberalizing
of the church that has marked the last two decades, are not most
of your contentions already granted? Is not the "lake of fire and
brimstone" an obsolete issue?
_Answer_. There has been in the last few years a great advance.
The orthodox creeds have been growing vulgar and cruel. Civilized
people are shocked at the dogma of eternal pain, and the belief in
hell has mostly faded away. The churches have not changed their
creeds. They still pretend to believe as they always have--but
they have changed their tone. God is now a father--a friend. He
is no longer the monster, the savage, described in the Bible. He
has become somewhat civilized. He no longer claims the right to
damn us because he made us. But in spite of all the errors and
contradictions, in spite of the cruelties and absurdities found in
the Scriptures, the churches still insist that the Bible is
_inspired_. The educated ministers admit that the Pentateuch was
not written by Moses; that the Psalms were not written by David;
that Isaiah was the work of at least three; that Daniel was not
written until after the prophecies mentioned in that book had been
fulfilled; that Ecclesiastes was not written until the second
century after Christ; that Solomon's Song was not written by Solomon;
that the book of Esther is of no importance; and that no one knows,
or pretends to know, who were the authors of Kings, Samuel,
Chronicles, or Job. And yet these same gentlemen still cling to
the dogma of inspiration! It is no longer claimed that the Bible
is true--but _inspired_.
_Question_. Yet the sacred volume, no matter who wrote it, is a
mine of wealth to the student and the philosopher, is it not?
Would you have us discard it altogether?
_Answer_. Inspiration must be abandoned, and the Bible must take
its place among the books of the world. It contains some good
passages, a little poetry, some good sense, and some kindness; but
its philosophy is frightful. In fact, if the book had never existed
I think it would have been far better for mankind. It is not enough
to give up the Bible; that is only the beginning. The _supernatural_
must be given up. It must be admitted that Nature has no master;
that there never has been any interference from without; that man
has received no help from heaven; and that all the prayers that
have ever been uttered have died unanswered in the heedless air.
The religion of the supernatural has been a curse. We want the
religion of usefulness.
_Question_. But have you no use whatever for prayer--even in the
sense of aspiration--or for faith, in the sense of confidence in
the ultimate triumph of the right?
_Answer_. There is a difference between wishing, hoping, believing,
and--knowing. We can wish without evidence or probability, and we
can wish for the impossible--for what we believe can never be. We
cannot hope unless there is in the mind a possibility that the
thing hoped for can happen. We can believe only in accordance with
evidence, and we know only that which has been demonstrated. I
have no use for prayer; but I do a good deal of wishing and hoping.
I hope that some time the right will triumph--that Truth will gain
the victory; but I have no faith in gaining the assistance of any
god, or of any supernatural power. I never pray.
_Question_. However fully materialism, as a philosophy, may accord
with the merely human _reason_, is it not wholly antagonistic to
the instinctive faculties of the mind?
_Answer_. Human reason is the final arbiter. Any system that does
not commend itself to the reason must fall. I do not know exactly
what you mean by _materialism_. I do not know what matter is. I
am satisfied, however, that without matter there can be no force,
no life, no thought, no reason. It seems to me that mind is a form
of force, and force cannot exist apart from matter. If it is said
that God created the universe, then there must have been a time
when he commenced to create. If at that time there was nothing in
existence but himself, how could he have exerted any force? Force
cannot be exerted except in opposition to force. If God was the
only existence, force could not have been exerted.
_Question_. But don't you think, Colonel, that the materialistic
philosophy, even in the light of your own interpretation, is
essentially pessimistic?
_Answer_. I do not consider it so. I believe that the pessimists
and the optimists are both right. This is the worst possible world,
and this is the best possible world--because it is as it must be.
The present is the child, and the necessary child, of all the past.
_Question_. What have you to say concerning the operations of the
Society for Psychical Research? Do not its facts and conclusions
prove, if not immortality, at least the continuity of life beyond
the grave? Are the millions of Spiritualists deluded?
_Answer_. Of course I have heard and read a great deal about the
doings of the Society; so, I have some knowledge as to what is
claimed by Spiritualists, by Theosophists, and by all other believers
in what are called "spiritual manifestations." Thousands of
wonderful tings have been established by what is called "evidence"
--the testimony of good men and women. I have seen things done
that I could not explain, both by mediums and magicians. I also
know that it is easy to deceive the senses, and that the old saying
"that seeing is believing" is subject to many exceptions. I am
perfectly satisfied that there is, and can be, no force without
matter; that everything that is--all phenomena--all actions and
thoughts, all exhibitions of force, have a material basis--that
nothing exists,--ever did, or ever will exist, apart from matter.
So I am satisfied that no matter ever existed, or ever will, apart
from force.
We think with the same force with which we walk. For every action
and for every thought, we draw upon the store of force that we have
gained from air and food. We create no force; we borrow it all.
As force cannot exist apart from matter, it must be used _with_
matter. It travels only on material roads. It is impossible to
convey a thought to another without the assistance of matter. No
one can conceive of the use of one of our senses without substance.
No one can conceive of a thought in the absence of the senses.
With these conclusions in my mind--in my brain--I have not the
slightest confidence in "spiritual manifestations," and do not
believe that any message has ever been received from the dead.
The testimony that I have heard--that I have read--coming even from
men of science--has not the slightest weight with me. I do not
pretend to see beyond the grave. I do not say that man is, or is
not, immortal. All I say is that there is no evidence that we live
again, and no demonstration that we do not. It is better ignorantly
to hope than dishonestly to affirm.
_Question_. And what do you think of the modern development of
metaphysics--as expressed outside of the emotional and semi-
ecclesiastical schools? I refer especially to the power of mind
in the curing of disease--as demonstrated by scores of drugless
healers.
_Answer_. I have no doubt that the condition of the mind has some
effect upon the health. The blood, the heart, the lungs answer--
respond to--emotion. There is no mind without body, and the body
is affected by thought--by passion, by cheerfulness, by depression.
Still, I have not the slightest confidence in what is called "mind
cure." I do not believe that thought, or any set of ideas, can
cure a cancer, or prevent the hair from falling out, or remove a
tumor, or even freckles. At the same time, I admit that cheerfulness
is good and depression bad. But I have no confidence in what you
call "drugless healers." If the stomach is sour, soda is better
than thinking. If one is in great pain, opium will beat meditation.
I am a believer in what you call "drugs," and when I am sick I send
for a physician. I have no confidence in the supernatural. Magic
is not medicine.
_Question_. One great object of this movement, is to make religion
scientific--an aid to intellectual as well as spiritual progress.
Is it not thus to be encouraged, and destined to succeed--even
though it prove the reality and supremacy of the spirit and the
secondary importance of the flesh?
_Answer_. When religion becomes scientific, it ceases to be religion
and becomes science. Religion is not intellectual--it is emotional.
It does not appeal to the reason. The founder of a religion has
always said: "Let him that hath ears to hear, hear!" No founder
has said: "Let him that hath brains to think, think!" Besides,
we need not trouble ourselves about "spirit" and "flesh." We know
that we know of no spirit--without flesh. We have no evidence that
spirit ever did or ever will exist apart from flesh. Such existence
is absolutely inconceivable. If we are going to construct what
you call a "religion," it must be founded on observed and known
facts. Theories, to be of value, must be in accord with all the
facts that are known; otherwise they are worthless. We need not
try to get back of facts or behind the truth. The _why_ will
forever elude us. You cannot move your hand quickly enough to
grasp your image back of the mirror.
--_Mind_, New York, March, 1899.