WILL the unknown, the mysteries of life and itiations of the mind,
forever furnish food for superstition? Will the gods and ghosts perish
or simply retreat before the advancing hosts of science, and continue to
crouch and lurk just beyond the horizon of the known? Will darkness
forever be the womb and mother of the supernatural?
A little while ago priests told peasants that the New Jerusalem, the
celestial city was just above the clouds. They said that its walls
and domes and spires were just beyond the reach of human sight. The
telescope was invented and those who looked at the wilderness of stars,
saw no city, no throne. They said to the priests: "Where is your New
Jerusalem?" The priests cheerfully and confidently replied. "It is just
beyond where you see."
At one time it was believed that a race of men existed "with their heads
beneath their shoulders." Returning travelers from distant lands were
asked about these wonderful people and all replied that they had not
seen them. "Oh," said the believers in the monsters, "the men with heads
beneath their shoulders live in a country that you did not visit." And
so the monsters lived and flourished until all the world was known. We
cannot know the universe. We cannot travel infinite distances, and so,
somewhere in shoreless space there will always be room for gods and
ghosts, for heavens and hells. And so it may be that superstition will
live and linger until the world becomes intelligent enough to build upon
the foundation of the known, to keep the imagination within the domain
of the probable, and to believe in the natural--_until the supernatural
shall have been demonstrated_.
Savages knew all about gods, about heavens and hells before they knew
anything about the world in which they lived. They were perfectly
familiar with evil spirits, with the invisible phantoms of the air, long
before they had any true conception of themselves. So, they knew all
about the origin and destiny of the human race. They were absolutely
certain about the problems, the solution of which, philosophers know, is
beyond the limitations of the mind. They understood astrology, but not
astronomy, knew something of magic, but nothing about chemistry. They
were wise only as to those things about which nothing can be known.
The poor Indian believed in the "Great Spirit" and saw "design" on every
hand.--Trees were made that he might have bows and arrows, wood for his
fire and bark for his wigwam--rivers and lakes to give him fish, wild
beasts and corn that he might have food, and the animals had skins that
he might have clothes.
Primitive peoples all reasoned in the same way, and modern Christians
follow their example. They knew but little of the world and thought that
it had been made expressly for the use of man. They did not know that it
was mostly water, that vast regions were locked in eternal ice and that
in most countries the conditions were unfavorable to human life. They
knew nothing of the countless enemies of man that live unseen in water,
food and air. Back of the little good they knew they put gods and back
of the evil, devils. They thought it of the greatest importance to gain
the good will of the gods, who alone could protect them from the devils.
Those who worshiped these gods, offered sacrifices, and obeyed priests,
were considered loyal members of the tribe or community, and those who
refused to worship were regarded as enemies and traitors. The believers,
in order to protect themselves from the anger of the gods, exiled or
destroyed the infidels.
Believing as they did, the course they pursued was natural. They
not only wished to protect themselves from disease and death, from
pestilence and famine in this world but the souls of their children from
eternal pain in the next. Their gods were savages who demanded flattery
and worship not only, but the acceptance of a certain creed. As long
as Christians believe in eternal punishment they will be the enemies of
those who investigate and contend for the authority of reason, of those
who demand evidence, who care nothing for the unsupported assertions of
the dead or the illogical inferences of the living.
Science always has been, is, and always will be modest, thoughtful,
truthful. It has but one object: The ascertainment of truth. It has no
prejudice, no hatred. It is in the realm of the intellect and cannot
be swayed or changed by passion. It does not try to please God, to gain
heaven or avoid hell. It is for this world, for the use of man. It is
perfectly candid. It does not try to conceal, but to reveal. It is the
enemy of mystery, of pretence and canc. It does not ask people to be
solemn, but sensible. It calls for and insists on the use of all the
senses, of all the faculties of the mind. It does not pretend to be
"holy" or "inspired." It courts investigation, criticism and even
denial. It asks for the application of every test, for trial by every
standard. It knows nothing of blasphemy and does not ask for the
imprisonment of those who ignorantly or knowingly deny the truth. The
good that springs from a knowledge of the truth is the only reward it
offers, and the evil resulting from ignorance is the only punishment it
threatens. Its effort is to reform the world through intelligence.
On the other hand theology is, always has been, and always will be,
ignorant, arrogant, puerile and cruel. When the church had power,
hypocrisy was crowned and honesty imprisoned. Fraud wore the tiara and
truth was a convict, Liberty was in chains, Theology has always sent the
worst to heaven, the best to hell.
Let me give you a scene from the day of judgment. Christ is upon
his throne, his secretary by his side. A soul appears. This is what
happens--
"What is your name?"
Torquemada.
"Were you a Christian?"