the waves of the dissatisfied, raging masses may not disturb us at
table. But the whole of this point of view is as false as it is nowadays
universally liked and praised; this is why I make haste to put in a
protest against it. It is _false_ that state, justice, and law cannot be
maintained without the aid of religion and its articles of belief, and
that justice and police regulations need religion as a complement in
order to carry out legislative arrangements. It is _false_ if it were
repeated a hundred times. For the ancients, and especially the Greeks,
furnish us with striking _instantia in contrarium_ founded on fact. They
had absolutely nothing of what we understand by religion. They had no
sacred documents, no dogma to be learnt, and its acceptance advanced by
every one, and its principles inculcated early in youth. The servants of
religion preached just as little about morals, and the ministers
concerned themselves very little about any kind of morality or in
general about what the people either did or left undone. No such thing.
But the duty of the priests was confined merely to temple ceremonies,
prayers, songs, sacrifices, processions, lustrations, and the like, all
of which aimed at anything but the moral improvement of the individual.
The whole of their so-called religion consisted, and particularly in the
towns, in some of the _deorum majorum gentium_ having temples here and
there, in which the aforesaid worship was conducted as an affair of
state, when in reality it was an affair of police. No one, except the
functionaries engaged, was obliged in any way to be present, or even to
believe in it. In the whole of antiquity there is no trace of any
obligation to believe in any kind of dogma. It was merely any one who
openly denied the existence of the gods or calumniated them that was
punished; because by so doing he insulted the state which served these
gods; beyond this every one was allowed to think what he chose of them.
If any one wished to win the favour of these gods privately by prayer or
sacrifice he was free to do so at his own cost and risk; if he did not
do it, no one had anything to say against it, and least of all the
State. Every Roman had his own Lares and Penates at home, which were,
however, at bottom nothing more than the revered portraits of his
ancestors. The ancients had no kind of decisive, clear, and least of all
dogmatically fixed ideas about the immortality of the soul and a life
hereafter, but every one in his own way had lax, vacillating, and
problematical ideas; and their ideas about the gods were just as
various, individual, and vague. So that the ancients had really no
_religion_ in our sense of the word. Was it for this reason that anarchy
and lawlessness reigned among them? Is not law and civil order rather so
much their work, that it still constitutes the foundation of ours? Was
not property perfectly secure, although it consisted of slaves for the
greater part? And did not this condition of things last longer than a
thousand years?
So I cannot perceive, and must protest against the practical aims and
necessity of religion in the sense which you have indicated, and in such
general favour to-day, namely, as an indispensable foundation of all
legislative regulations. For from such a standpoint the pure and sacred
striving after light and truth, to say the least, would seem quixotic
and criminal if it should venture in its feeling of justice to denounce
the authoritative belief as a usurper who has taken possession of the
throne of truth and maintained it by continuing the deception.
_Demop._ But religion is not opposed to truth; for it itself teaches
truth. Only it must not allow truth to appear in its naked form, because
its sphere of activity is not a narrow auditory, but the world and
humanity at large, and therefore it must conform to the requirements and
comprehension of so great and mixed a public; or, to use a medical
simile, it must not present it pure, but must as a medium make use of a
mythical vehicle. Truth may also be compared in this respect to certain
chemical stuffs which in themselves are gaseous, but which for official
uses, as also for preservation or transmission, must be bound to a firm,
palpable base, because they would otherwise volatilise. For example,
chlorine is for all such purposes applied only in the form of chlorides.
But if truth, pure, abstract, and free from anything of a mythical
nature, is always to remain unattainable by us all, philosophers
included, it might be compared to fluorine, which cannot be presented by
itself alone, but only when combined with other stuffs. Or, to take a
simpler simile, truth, which cannot be expressed in any other way than
by myth and allegory, is like water that cannot be transported without a
vessel; but philosophers, who insist upon possessing it pure, are like a
person who breaks the vessel in order to get the water by itself. This
is perhaps a true analogy. At any rate, religion is truth allegorically
and mythically expressed, and thereby made possible and digestible to
mankind at large. For mankind could by no means digest it pure and
unadulterated, just as we cannot live in pure oxygen but require an
addition of four-fifths of nitrogen. And without speaking figuratively,
the profound significance and high aim of life can only be revealed and
shown to the masses symbolically, because they are not capable of
grasping life in its real sense; while philosophy should be like the
Eleusinian mysteries, for the few, the elect.
_Phil._ I understand. The matter resolves itself into truth putting on
the dress of falsehood. But in doing so it enters into a fatal alliance.
What a dangerous weapon is given into the hands of those who have the
authority to make use of falsehood as the vehicle of truth! If such is
the case, I fear there will be more harm caused by the falsehood than
good derived from the truth. If the allegory were admitted to be such, I
should say nothing against it; but in that case it would be deprived of
all respect, and consequently of all efficacy. Therefore the allegory
must assert a claim, which it must maintain, to be true in _sensu
proprio_ while at the most it is true in _sensu allegorico_. Here lies
the incurable mischief, the permanent evil; and therefore religion is
always in conflict, and always will be with the free and noble striving
after pure truth.
_Demop_. Indeed, no. Care has been taken to prevent that. If religion
may not exactly admit its allegorical nature, it indicates it at any
rate sufficiently.
_Phil_. And in what way does it do that?
_Demop_. In its mysteries. _Mystery_ is at bottom only the theological
_terminus technicus_ for religious allegory. All religions have their
mysteries. In reality, a mystery is a palpably absurd dogma which
conceals in itself a lofty truth, which by itself would be absolutely
incomprehensible to the ordinary intelligence of the raw masses. The
masses accept it in this disguise on trust and faith, without allowing
themselves to be led astray by its absurdity, which is palpable to them;
and thereby they participate in the kernel of the matter so far as they
are able. I may add as an explanation that the use of mystery has been
attempted even in philosophy; for example, when Pascal, who was pietest,
mathematician, and philosopher in one, says in this threefold character:
_God is everywhere centre and nowhere periphery_. Malebranche has also
truly remarked, _La liberté est un mystère_. One might go further, and
maintain that in religions everything is really mystery. For it is
utterly impossible to impart truth in _sensu proprio_ to the multitude
in its crudity; it is only a mythical and allegorical reflection of it
that can fall to its share and enlighten it. Naked truth must not appear
before the eyes of the profane vulgar; it can only appear before them
closely veiled. And it is for this reason that it is unfair to demand of
a religion that it should be true in _sensu proprio_, and that, _en
passant_. Rationalists and Supernaturalists of to-day are so absurd.
They both start with the supposition that religion must be the truth;
and while the former prove that it is not, the latter obstinately
maintain that it is; or rather the former cut up and dress the allegory
in such a way that it could be true in _sensu proprio_ but would in that
case become a platitude. The latter wish to maintain, without further
dressing, that it is true in _sensu proprio_, which, as they should
know, can only be carried into execution by inquisitions and the stake.
While in reality, myth and allegory are the essential elements of
religion, but under the indispensable condition (because of the
intellectual limitations of the great masses) that it supplies enough
satisfaction to meet those metaphysical needs of mankind which are
ineradicable, and that it takes the place of pure philosophical truth,
which is infinitely difficult, and perhaps never attainable.
_Phil._ Yes, pretty much in the same way as a wooden leg takes the place
of a natural one. It supplies what is wanting, does very poor service
for it, and claims to be regarded as a natural leg, and is more or less
cleverly put together. There is a difference, however, for, as a rule,
the natural leg was in existence before the wooden one, while religion
everywhere has gained the start of philosophy.
_Demop._ That may be; but a wooden leg is of great value to those who
have no natural leg. You must keep in view that the metaphysical
requirements of man absolutely demand satisfaction; because the horizon
of his thoughts must be defined and not remain unlimited. A man, as a
rule, has no faculty of judgment for weighing reasons, and
distinguishing between what is true and what is false. Moreover, the
work imposed upon him by nature and her requirements leaves him no time
for investigations of that kind, or for the education which they
presuppose. Therefore it is entirely out of the question to imagine he
will be convinced by reasons; there is nothing left for him but belief
and authority. Even if a really true philosophy took the place of
religion, at least nine-tenths of mankind would only accept it on
authority, so that it would be again a matter of belief; for Plato's
φιλοσοφον πληθος ἀδυνατον εἰναι will always hold good. Authority,
however, is only established by time and circumstances, so that we
cannot bestow it on that which has only reason to commend it;
accordingly, we must grant it only to that which has attained it in the
course of history, even if it is only truth represented allegorically.
This kind of truth, supported by authority, appeals directly to the
essentially metaphysical temperament of man--that is, to his need of a
theory concerning the riddle of existence, which thrusts itself upon
him, and arises from the consciousness that behind the physical in the
world there must be a metaphysical, an unchangeable something, which
serves as the foundation of constant change. It also appeals to the
will, fears, and hopes of mortals living in constant need; religion
provides them with gods, demons, to whom they call, appease, and
conciliate. Finally, it appeals to their moral consciousness, which is
undeniably present, and lends to it that authenticity and support from
without--a support without which it would not easily maintain itself in
the struggle against so many temptations. It is exactly from this side
that religion provides an inexhaustible source of consolation and
comfort in the countless and great sorrows of life, a comfort which does
not leave men in death, but rather then unfolds its full efficacy. So
that religion is like some one taking hold of the hand of a blind person
and leading him, since he cannot see for himself; all that the blind
person wants is to attain his end, not to see everything as he walks
along.
_Phil._ This side is certainly the brilliant side of religion. If it is
a _fraus_ it is indeed a _pia fraus_; that cannot be denied. Then
priests become something between deceivers and moralists. For they dare
not teach the real truth, as you yourself have quite correctly
explained, even if it were known to them; which it is not. There can, at
any rate, be a true philosophy, but there can be no true religion: I
mean true in the real and proper understanding of the word, not merely
in that flowery and allegorical sense which you have described, a sense
in which every religion would be true only in different degrees. It is
certainly quite in harmony with the inextricable admixture of good and
evil, honesty and dishonesty, goodness and wickedness, magnanimity and
baseness, which the world presents everywhere, that the most important,
the most lofty, and the most sacred truths can make their appearance
only in combination with a lie, nay, can borrow strength from a lie as
something that affects mankind more powerfully; and as revelation must
be introduced by a lie. One might regard this fact as the _monogram_ of
the moral world. Meanwhile let us not give up the hope that mankind will
some day attain that point of maturity and education at which it is able
to produce a true philosophy on the one hand, and accept it on the
other. _Simplex sigillum veri_: the naked truth must be so simple and
comprehensible that one can impart it to all in its true form without
any admixture of myth and fable (a pack of lies)--in other words,
without masking it as _religion_.
_Demop._ You have not a sufficient idea of the wretched capacities of
the masses.
_Phil._ I express it only as a hope; but to give it up is impossible. In
that case, if truth were in a simpler and more comprehensible form, it
would surely soon drive religion from the position of vicegerent which
it has so long held. Then religion will have fulfilled her mission and
finished her course; she might then dismiss the race which she has
guided to maturity and herself retire in peace. This will be the
_euthanasia_ of religion. However, as long as she lives she has two
faces, one of truth and one of deceit. According as one looks
attentively at one or the other one will like or dislike her. Hence
religion must be regarded as a necessary evil, its necessity resting on
the pitiful weak-mindedness of the great majority of mankind, incapable
of grasping the truth, and consequently when in extremity requires a
substitute for truth.
_Demop._ Really, one would think that you philosophers had truth lying
in readiness, and all that one had to do was to lay hold of it.
_Phil._ If we have not got it, it is principally to be ascribed to the
pressure under which philosophy, at all periods and in all countries,
has been held by religion. We have tried to make not only the expression
and communication of truth impossible, but even the contemplation and
discovery of it, by giving the minds of children in earliest childhood
into the hands of priests to be worked upon; to have the groove in which
their fundamental thoughts are henceforth to run so firmly imprinted, as
in principal matters, to become fixed and determined for a lifetime. I
am sometimes shocked to see when I take into my hand the writings of
even the most intelligent minds of the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries, and especially if I have just left my oriental studies, how
paralysed and hemmed in on all sides they are by Jewish notions.
Prepared in this way, one cannot form any idea of the true philosophy!
_Demop._ And if, moreover, this true philosophy were discovered,
religion would not cease to exist, as you imagine. There cannot be one
system of metaphysics for everybody; the natural differences of
intellectual power in addition to those of education make this
impossible. The great majority of mankind must necessarily be engaged in
that arduous bodily labour which is requisite in order to furnish the
endless needs of the whole race. Not only does this leave the majority
no time for education, for learning, or for reflection; but by virtue of
the strong antagonism between merely physical and intellectual
qualities, much excessive bodily labour blunts the understanding and
makes it heavy, clumsy, and awkward, and consequently incapable of
grasping any other than perfectly simple and palpable matters. At least
nine-tenths of the human race comes under this category. People require
a system of metaphysics, that is, an account of the world and our
existence, because such an account belongs to the most natural
requirements of mankind. They require also a popular system of
metaphysics, which, in order for it to be this, must combine many rare
qualities; for instance, it must be exceedingly lucid, and yet in the
right places be obscure, nay, to a certain extent, impenetrable; then a
correct and satisfying moral system must be combined with its dogmas;
above everything, it must bring inexhaustible consolation in suffering
and death. It follows from this that it can only be true in _sensu
allegorico_ and not in _sensu proprio_. Further, it must have the
support of an authority which is imposing by its great age, by its
general recognition, by its documents, together with their tone and
statements--qualities which are so infinitely difficult to combine that
many a man, if he stopped to reflect, would not be so ready to help to
undermine a religion, but would consider it the most sacred treasure of
the people. If any one wants to criticise religion he should always bear
in mind the nature of the great masses for which it is destined, and
picture to himself their complete moral and intellectual inferiority. It
is incredible how far this inferiority goes and how steadily a spark of
truth will continue to glimmer even under the crudest veiling of
monstrous fables and grotesque ceremonies, adhering indelibly, like the
perfume of musk, to everything which has come in contact with it. As an
illustration of this, look at the profound wisdom which is revealed in
the Upanishads, and then look at the mad idolatry in the India of
to-day, as is revealed in its pilgrimages, processions, and festivities,
or at the mad and ludicrous doings of the Saniassi of the present time.
Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that in all this madness and absurdity
there yet lies something that is hidden from view, something that is in
accordance with, or a reflection of the profound wisdom that has been
mentioned. It requires this kind of dressing-up for the great brute
masses. In this antithesis we have before us the two poles of
humanity:--the wisdom of the individual and the bestiality of the
masses, both of which, however, find their point of harmony in the moral
kingdom. Who has not thought of the saying from the Kurral--"Vulgar
people look like men; but I have never seen anything like them." The
more highly cultured man may always explain religion to himself _cum
grano salis_; the man of learning, the thoughtful mind, may, in secret,
exchange it for a philosophy. And yet _one_ philosophy would not do for
everybody; each philosophy by the laws of affinity attracts a public to
whose education and mental capacities it is fitted. So there is always
an inferior metaphysical system of the schools for the educated
plebeians, and a higher system for the _élite_. Kant's lofty doctrine,
for example, was degraded to meet the requirements of the schools, and
ruined by Fries, Krug, Salat, and similar people. In short, Goethe's
dictum is as applicable here as anywhere: _One does not suit all_. Pure
belief in revelation and pure metaphysics are for the two extremes; and
for the intermediate steps mutual modifications of both in countless
combinations and gradations. The immeasurable differences which nature
and education place between men have made this necessary.
_Phil._ This point of view reminds me seriously of the mysteries of the
ancients which you have already mentioned; their aim at bottom seems to
have lain in remedying the evil arising out of the differences of mental
capacities and education. Their plan was to single out of the great
multitude a few people, to whom the unveiled truth was absolutely
incomprehensible, and to reveal the truth to them up to a certain point;
then out of these they singled out others to whom they revealed more, as
they were able to grasp more; and so on up to the Epopts. And so we got
μικρα, και μειζονα, και μεγιστα μυστηρια. The plan was based on a
correct knowledge of the intellectual inequality of mankind.
_Demop_. To a certain extent the education in our lower, middle, and
high schools represents the different forms of initiation into the
mysteries.
_Phil_. Only in a very approximate way, and this only in so far as
subjects of higher knowledge were written about exclusively in Latin.
But since that has ceased to be so all the mysteries are profaned.
_Demop_. However that may be, I wish to remind you, in speaking of
religion, that you should grasp it more from the practical and less from
the theoretical side. Personified metaphysics may be religion's enemy,
yet personified morality will be its friend. Perhaps the metaphysics in
all religions is false; but the morality in all is true. This is to be
surmised from the fact that in their metaphysics they contradict each
other, while in their morality they agree.
_Phil_. Which furnishes us with a proof of the rule of logic, that a
true conclusion may follow from false premises.
_Demop_. Well, stick to your conclusion, and be always mindful that
religion has two sides. If it can't stand when looked at merely from the
theoretical--in other words, from its intellectual side, it appears, on
the other hand, from the moral side as the only means of directing,
training, and pacifying those races of animals gifted with reason, whose
kinship with the ape does not exclude a kinship with the tiger. At the
same time religion is, in general, a sufficient satisfaction for their
dull metaphysical needs. You appear to me to have no proper idea of the
difference, wide as the heavens apart, of the profound breach between
your learned man, who is enlightened and accustomed to think, and the
heavy, awkward, stupid, and inert consciousness of mankind's beasts of
burden, whose thoughts have taken once and for all the direction of fear
about their maintenance, and cannot be put in motion in any other; and
whose muscular power is so exclusively exercised that the nervous power
which produces intelligence is thereby greatly reduced. People of this
kind must absolutely have something that they can take hold of on the
slippery and thorny path of their life, some sort of beautiful fable by
means of which things can be presented to them which their crude
intelligence could most certainly only understand in picture and
parable. It is impossible to approach them with subtle explanations and
fine distinctions. If you think of religion in this way, and bear in
mind that its aims are extremely practical and only subordinately
theoretical, it will seem to you worthy of the highest respect.
_Phil_. A respect which would finally rest on the principle that the end
sanctifies the means. However, I am not in favour of a compromise on a
basis of that sort. Religion may be an excellent means of curbing and
controlling the perverse, dull, and malicious creatures of the biped
race; in the eyes of the friend of truth every _fraus_, be it ever so
_pia_, must be rejected. It would be an odd way to promote virtue
through the medium of lies and deception. The flag to which I have sworn
is truth. I shall remain faithful to it everywhere, and regardless of
success, I shall fight for light and truth. If I see religion hostile, I
shall--
_Demop_. But you will not! Religion is not a deception; it is true, and
the most important of all truths. But because, as has already been said,
its doctrines are of such a lofty nature that the great masses cannot
grasp them immediately; because, I say, its light would blind the
ordinary eye, does it appear concealed in the veil of allegory and teach
that which is not exactly true in itself, but which is true according to
the meaning contained in it: and understood in this way religion is the
truth.
_Phil_. That would be very probable, if it were allowed to be true only
in an allegorical sense. But it claims to be exactly true, and true in
the proper sense of the word: herein lies the deception, and it is here
that the friend of truth must oppose it.