It is contended that without religion--that is to say, without
Christianity--all ideas of morality must of necessity perish, and that
spirituality and reverence will be lost.
What is morality?
Is it to obey without question, or is it to act in accordance with
perceived obligation? Is it something with which intelligence has
nothing to do? Must the ignorant child carry out the command of the wise
father--the rude peasant rush to death at the request of the prince?
Is it impossible for morality to exist where the brain and heart are
in partnership? Is there no foundation for morality except punishment
threatened or reward promised by a superior to an inferior? If this be
true, how can the superior be virtuous? Cannot the reward and the threat
be in the nature of things? Can they not rest in consequences perceived
by the intellect? How can the existence or non-existence of a deity
change my obligation to keep my hands out of the fire?
The results of all actions are equally certain, but not equally known,
not equally perceived. If all men knew with perfect certainty that to
steal from another was to rob themselves, larceny would cease. It
cannot be said too often that actions are good or bad in the light of
consequences, and that a clear perception of consequences would control
actions. That which increases the sum of human happiness is moral; and
that which diminishes the sum of human happiness is immoral. Blind,
unreasoning obedience is the enemy of morality. Slavery is not the
friend of virtue. Actions are neither right nor wrong by virtue of what
men or gods can say--the right or wrong lives in results--in the nature
of things, growing out of relations violated or caused.
Accountability lives in the nature of consequences--in their absolute
certainty--in the fact that they cannot be placated, avoided, or bribed.
The relations of human life are too complicated to be accurately and
clearly understood, and, as a consequence, rules of action vary from age
to age. The ideas of right and wrong change with the experience of
the race, and this change is wrought by the gradual ascertaining of
consequences--of results. For this reason the religion of one age fails
to meet the standard of another, precisely as the laws that satisfied
our ancestors are repealed by us; so that, in spite of all efforts,
religion itself is subject to gradual and perpetual change.
The miraculous is no longer the basis of morals. Man is a sentient
being--he suffers and enjoys. In order to be happy he must preserve the
conditions of well-being--must live in accordance with certain facts by
which he is surrounded. If he violates these conditions the result is
unhappiness, failure, disease, misery.
Man must have food, roof, raiment, fireside, friends--that is to say,
prosperity; and this he must earn--this he must deserve. He is no
longer satisfied with being a slave, even of the Infinite. He wishes to
perceive for himself, to understand, to investigate, to experiment; and
he has at last the courage to bear the consequences that he brings upon
himself. He has also found that those who are the most religious are not
always the kindest, and that those who have been and are the worshipers
of God enslave their fellow-men. He has found that there is no necessary
connection between religion and morality.
Morality needs no supernatural assistance--needs neither miracle nor
pretence. It has nothing to do with awe, reverence, credulity, or blind,
unreasoning faith. Morality is the highway perceived by the soul, the
direct road, leading to success, honor, and happiness.
The best thing to do under the circumstances is moral.
The highest possible standard is human. We put ourselves in the places
of others. We are made happy by the kindness of others, and we feel that
a fair exchange of good actions is the wisest and best commerce. We know
that others can make us miserable by acts of hatred and injustice,
and we shrink from inflicting the pain upon others that we have felt
ourselves; this is the foundation of conscience.
If man could not suffer, the words right and wrong could never have been
spoken.
The Agnostic, the Infidel, clearly perceives the true basis of morals,
and, so perceiving, he knows that the religious man, the superstitious
man, caring more for God than for his fellows, will sacrifice his
fellows, either at the supposed command of his God, or to win his
approbation. He also knows that the religionist has no basis for morals
except these supposed commands. The basis of morality with him lies not
in the nature of things, but in the caprice of some deity. He seems to
think that, had it not been for the Ten Commandments, larceny and murder
might have been virtues.