THEORY OF SECULARISM.--G. J. HOLYOAKE.
Such is the new name under which Atheism has recently appeared among not
a few of the tradesmen and artisans of the metropolis and provincial
towns of Great Britain. In literature, it is represented by Mr. G. J.
Holyoake, the author of an answer to Paley, the editor of "The
Reasoner," and a popular lecturer and controversialist, whose public
discussions are duly reported in that periodical, and occasionally
reprinted in a separate form.[251] The extensive circulation which these
and similar tracts have already obtained, the number of affiliated
societies which have been formed in many of the chief centres of
manufactures and commerce, the zeal and boldness of popular itinerant
lecturers, and the urgent demands which have been incessantly made for
the extension of their machinery by means of a _propaganda_ fund, are
all indications of a tendency, in some quarters, towards a form of
unbelief, less speculative and more practical, but only on that account
more attractive to the English mind, and neither less insidious nor
less dangerous than any of the philosophical theories of Atheism.
We have often thought, indeed, that should Atheism ever threaten to
become prevalent in England, this is the form which it is most likely to
assume. The English mind is eminently practical; it has little sympathy
with the profundity of German or the subtlety of French speculation on
such subjects. A few speculative spirits may be influenced for a time by
the reasonings of Comte, or the representations of "The Vestiges;" but
the general mind of the community will desiderate something more solid
and substantial; not content with any scientific theory, however
ingenious, it will demand a practical system. And we are not sure that
"Secularism" may not be made to appear, in the view of some, to be just
such a system, since it dismisses or refuses to pronounce on many of the
highest problems of human thought, insists on the necessary limitation
of the human faculties, and seeks to confine both our aspirations and
our thoughts to the interests and the duties of the present life. In
estimating the probable influence of such a system on the public mind,
we must not forget the large amount of practical irreligion which exists
even in England, the strong temptation which is felt by many to escape
from their occasional feelings of remorse and fear by embracing some
plausible pretext for the neglect of prayer and other religious
observances, and the disposition, natural and almost irresistible in
such circumstances, to lend a willing ear to any doctrine which promises
to relieve them of all responsibility with relation to God and a future
state. The theory of Secularism is adapted to this state of mind; it
chimes in with the instinctive tendencies of every ungodly mind; and it
is the likeliest medium through which _practical Atheism_ may pass into
_speculative Infidelity_.
Mr. Holyoake, it is true, abjures the name both of an _Atheist_ and
_Infidel_. We admire the prudence of his policy, but cannot subscribe to
the correctness of his reasons for doing so. "Mr. Southwell," he says,
"has taken an objection to the term Atheism. We are glad he has. We have
disused it a long time.... We disuse it, because Atheist is a worn-out
word. Both the ancients and the moderns have understood by it _one
without God, and also without morality_. Thus the term connotes more
than any well-informed and earnest person accepting it ever included in
it; that is, the word carries with it associations of immorality, which
have been repudiated by the Atheist as seriously as by the Christian.
Non-theism is a term less open to the same misunderstanding, as it
implies the simple non-acceptance of the Theist's explanation of the
origin and government of the world."[252]
But "Non-theism" was afterwards exchanged for "Secularism," as a term
less liable to misconstruction, and more correctly descriptive of the
real import of the theory. "_Secularists_ was, perhaps, the proper
designation of all who dissented extremely from the religious opinions
of the day."--"Freethinking is the _Secular_ sphere; drawing its line of
demarcation between time and eternity, it works _for the welfare of man
in this world_"--"The _Secularist_ is the larger and more comprehensive
designation of the Atheist."[253] With all this coyness and
fastidiousness about names, there can be no doubt that the character of
the system is essentially atheistic: "We refuse to employ the term God,
not having any definite idea of it which we can explain to others,--not
knowing any theory of such an existence as will enable us to defend that
dogma to others. We therefore prefer the honest, though unusual
designation of Atheist; not using it in the sense in which it is
commonly employed, as signifying _one without morality_, but in its
stricter sense of describing those _without any determinate knowledge of
Deity_."[254] "That the Atheist does consider matter to be eternal is
perfectly correct; and for this reason, no Atheist could make use of
such a term as that matter _originally_ possessed, or _originally_ was;
whatever is eternal has no origin, beginning, or end.... Organized
plants and animals--man also with his noble intellect--are not _now_ at
least produced by supernatural causes; and the Atheist, without
positively asserting that there _must_ have been a beginning to life in
this earth, argues that if a plant, an animal, or a man, can be produced
at this time without supernatural interference, so also a first plant, a
first animal, or a first man, may have been naturally produced in this
earth under the right circumstances,--circumstances which probably
cannot occur in the present condition of our globe. Our difficulties and
our ignorance are not in the least dispelled, but on the contrary
complicated and increased, by the adoption of the ancient belief in a
Supernatural Contriver and Maker, who, after existing from eternity in
absolute void and solitude, suddenly proceeded to create the universe
out of nothing or out of himself."[255] The editor thinks "the course to
be taken is to use the term Secularists as indicating general views, and
accept the term Atheist at the point at which Ethics declines alliance
with Theology; always, however, explaining the term Atheist to mean 'not
seeing God,' visually or inferentially; never suffering it to be taken
(as Chalmers, Foster, and many others represent it) for Anti-theism,
that is, hating God, denying God, as _hating_ implies personal knowledge
as the ground of dislike, and _denying_ implies infinite knowledge as
the ground of disproof."[256]
These extracts are sufficient to illustrate the peculiar character of
this popular form of Infidelity. It is not a philosophical system,
although philosophical terms are often employed by its advocates; it
does not even profess to solve, as the theory of Development does, any
of the great problems of Nature. We shall offer a brief statement of its
distinctive peculiarities, as it is developed by Mr. Holyoake, and
suggest some considerations which should be seriously pondered by those
who may be tempted to exchange Christianity for Secularism.
1. The theory of Secularism is a form, not of _dogmatic_, but of
_skeptical_, Atheism; it is dogmatic only in _denying the sufficiency of
the evidence_ for the being and perfections of God. It does not deny, it
only does not believe, His existence. There may be a God
notwithstanding; there may even be sufficient evidence of His being,
although some men cannot, or will not, see it. "They do not deny the
existence of God, but only assert that they have not sufficient proof of
His existence."[257] "The Non-theist takes this ground. He affirms that
natural reason has _not yet_ attained to (evidence of) Supernatural
Being. He does not deny that it _may do so_, because the capacity of
natural reason in the pursuit of evidence of Supernatural Being is not,
so far as he is aware, fixed."--"The power of reason is yet a growth. To
deny its power absolutely would be hazardous; and in the case of a
speculative question, not to admit that the opposite views may in some
sense be tenable, is to assume your own infallibility,--a piece of
arrogance the public always punish by disbelieving you when you are in
the right."[258] Accordingly the thesis which Mr. Holyoake undertook to
maintain in public discussion was couched in these terms:--"That we have
_not sufficient evidence_ to believe in the existence of a Supreme Being
independent of Nature;"[259] and so far from venturing to deny His
existence, he makes the important admission, that "_denying implies
infinite knowledge as the ground of disproof_."
It is admitted, then, by the Secularist himself,--that there _may be_ a
God,--that there may be evidence of His existence,--that it may yet be
discovered in the progress of natural reason,--and that to deny any one
of these possibilities would be to assume "infallibility," or to
arrogate "infinite knowledge as the ground of disproof." Now, we humbly
conceive that there is enough in these admissions, if not to disarm the
Secular polemic, yet to shut up every seriously reflecting man, not,
perhaps, to the instant recognition of a Divine Being, but certainly to
the duty of earnest, patient, and persevering inquiry. It was with this
view that both Chalmers and Foster penned those powerful passages which
seem to have left some impression on the mind even of Mr. Holyoake, not
for the purpose, as he seems to imagine, of confounding Atheism with
Anti-theism, but for the very opposite purpose of discriminating between
the two, so as to show that, the one being impossible, the _other_ can
afford no security against the possible truth of Religion. And every
word of warning which they convey should tell with powerful effect on
Mr. Holyoake's conscience, after the admissions which he has
deliberately made, especially when he is engaged in the cheerless task
of undermining the faith of multitudes in their "Father which is in
heaven."
Dr. Chalmers devotes a chapter of his "Natural Theology" to illustrate
"the duty which is laid upon men by the _possibility_ or even the
_imagination_ of a God." He does not overlook, on the contrary he founds
upon, the distinction between Skeptical and Dogmatic Atheism. "Going
back," he says, "to the very earliest of our mental conceptions on this
subject, we advert first to the distinction, in point of real and
logical import, between unbelief and disbelief. There being no ground
for affirming that there is a God, is a different proposition from there
being ground for affirming that there is no God.... The Atheist does not
labor to demonstrate that there is no God; but he labors to demonstrate
that there is no adequate proof of there being one. He does not
positively affirm the position, that God is not; but he affirms the lack
of evidence for the position, that God is. Judging from the tendency and
effect of his arguments, an Atheist does not appear positively to refuse
that a God may be; but he insists that He has not discovered Himself,
whether by the utterance of His voice in audible revelation, or by the
impress of His hand upon visible nature. His verdict on the doctrine of
a God is only that it is not proven; it is not, that it is disproven. He
is but an Atheist: he is not an Anti-theist."
Mr. Holyoake can scarcely fail to recognize in these words a correct and
graphic delineation of his own position and sentiments. Now, says Dr.
Chalmers, "there is a certain _duteous_ movement which the mind _ought_
to take, on the bare suggestion that a God _may be_.... The certainty of
an actual God binds over to certain distinct and most undoubted
proprieties. But so also may the imagination of a possible God; in which
case, the very idea of a God, even in its most hypothetical form, might
lay a _responsibility even upon Atheists_.... The very idea of a God
will bring along with it an instant sense and recognition of the
moralities and duties that would be owing to Him. Should an actual God
be revealed, we clearly feel that there is a something which we _ought_
to be and to do in regard to Him. But more than this: should a possible
God be imagined, there is a something not only which we feel that we
_ought_, but there is a something which we actually ought to do or to
be, in consequence of our being visited by such an imagination.... To
this condition there attaches a most clear and incumbent morality. It is
to go in quest of that unseen Benefactor, who, for aught I know, has
ushered me into existence, and spread so glorious a panorama around me.
It is to probe the secret of my being and my birth; and, if possible, to
make discovery whether it was indeed the hand of a Benefactor that
brought me forth from nonentity, and gave me place and entertainment in
that glowing territory which is lighted up with the hopes and happiness
of living men. It is thus that _the very conception of a God throws a
solemn responsibility after it_."[260]
It is a dangerous mistake, then, to imagine either that we can ever know
_that there is no God_, or that we can get rid of all responsibility by
merely _doubting_ His existence. Atheism, in so far as it is _dogmatic_,
must, in his own language, "arrogate infinite knowledge as the ground of
disproof;" and in so far as it is merely _skeptical_, it can afford no
security against the fears and forebodings which _doubt_ on such a
subject must necessarily awaken in every thoughtful mind. And this
consideration will become only the more solemn and impressive the longer
we reflect upon it. Mr. Holyoake, however, is far from being consistent
in his various statements on this subject. For not content with saying,
"Most decidedly I believe that the present order of Nature is
insufficient to prove the existence of an intelligent Creator," he adds
that "_no imaginable order_, that no contrivance, however mechanical,
precise, or clear, would be sufficient to prove it."[261] At one time he
tells us that "an increasing party respectfully and deferentially avow
their inability to subscribe to the arguments supposed to establish the
existence of a Being distinct from Nature." At another, "We have always
held that the existence of Deity is 'past finding out,' and we have held
that the time employed upon the investigation might more profitably be
devoted to the study of humanity." Again, "That central point in all
religious belief--the existence of God--has not yet been approached in a
frank spirit. The very terms of the assertion are as _yet_ an enigma in
language, the fact is _yet_ a problem in philosophy; the world possesses
_as yet_ no adequate logic for that province of our speculation which
lies beyond our immediate experience."[262] "Man must die to solve the
problem of Deity's existence."[263] "The existence of God is a problem
to which the mathematics of human intelligence _seems to me_ to furnish
no solution,"[264] "a problem without a solution, a hieroglyphic without
an interpretation, a gordian knot still untied, a question unanswered, a
thread still unravelled, a labyrinth untrod."[265] That there is here a
strong expression of Skeptical Atheism is evident; but is there not
something more? Does not Skeptical Atheism insensibly transform itself
into Dogmatic, when doubt respecting the sufficiency of the evidence is
combined with a denial of the possibility of any satisfactory proof, or
of the capacity of the human mind to reach it, here or hereafter? Yet
the plea is the want of sufficient evidence now; and this plea is urged
in connection with the admission that "the power of reason is yet a
growth," and that although "it has not yet attained to evidence of
Supernatural Being," the denial of it "would imply infinite knowledge as
the ground of disproof." Mr. Holyoake does not deny that there _may be_
a God, distinct from Nature and superior to it; but he denies, first of
all, the sufficiency of the evidence to which we appeal, embracing here
that form of Atheism which is merely skeptical; and he denies, secondly,
the possibility of any sufficient proof, for "no imaginable order would
be sufficient," and the whole "subject exceeds human comprehension,"
embracing, in this instance, that form of Atheism which is strictly
dogmatic, if not in affirming that there is no God, yet in affirming
that it is impossible He can ever be known to exist. What then becomes
of his cautious limitations,--"The fact is _yet_ a problem in
philosophy."--"The world possesses as _yet_ no adequate logic for that
province of speculation"--"Men must die to solve the problem of Deity's
existence?" Is it still a problem, and one, too, which may after all be
solved, and solved even in the affirmative? If it be, why may it not be
solved before death? or what _other_ evidence will there be after death?
And as to the plea of insufficient evidence, what is its precise
meaning? Does it mean merely that it has hitherto failed to convince
himself and his associates? If so, how can he tell that it may not yet
flash upon him with irresistible power, and that he too, like his former
associate, Mr. Knight, may be able to say, "By the blessing of God, the
exercise of those mental powers which He has bestowed upon me has led me
to the conclusion that He exists. There is a God."[266] If it means more
than this, will he say that it is insufficient for others as well as for
him? But why, if others believe on the ground of that evidence, and if,
according to his favorite theory, belief is _the inevitable_ result of
evidence? Is his belief, or theirs, the measure of truth? Does he not
know that multitudes have passed through the same dreary shade of
unbelief in which he is still involved, and have afterwards emerged into
the clear light of faith, discovering what they now wonder they had
overlooked before, and saying with heartfelt humility and gratitude,
"One thing I know, that whereas I was blind, now I see"?[267] But what
has their belief, or his unbelief, to do with the great, the momentous
fact? The truth, whatever it be, is independent of both: and it is the
_truth_, and not our apprehensions of it, it is the _evidence_, and not
our belief or doubt, that is the subject of inquiry. Will it be
affirmed, then, either that the supposed existence of God is
intrinsically incredible, and as such incapable of proof, or that the
evidence is insufficient, in the sense of being illogical and
inconclusive? This is the ultimate ground of atheistic unbelief, and
here the Skeptical unites and blends with the Dogmatic form of
Infidelity.
But when driven to this last resort, and before taking up the position
which it is concerned to defend, Secularism puts forth certain
preliminary pleas, partly in the way of self-defence, and partly with
the view of exciting prejudice against the cause of Theism.[268] "I make
no pretence," says Mr. Holyoake, "to account for everything. I do not
pretend to account for what I find in Nature. I do not feel called upon
to account for it. I do not know that I am required to account for it."
... "A man will come to me and say, Can you account for this? Can you
account for that? Now he expects me to tell him all about everything,
just as though I was present at the beginning of Nature, and knew all
its manifestations. If I cannot do it, he will not admit my plea of
ignorance;--he will not admit the propriety of my saying, I do not
know." He is not bound to explain either the past or the future: "What
went before and what will follow me I regard as two black impenetrable
curtains, which hang down at the two extremities of human life, and
which no living man has yet drawn aside.... A deep silence reigns behind
this curtain; no one once within will answer those he has left without;
all you can hear is a hollow echo of your question, as if you shouted
into a chasm."[269] And can a mind that is capable of writing thus be
content to discard Religion from his thoughts on the sorry pretext that
he is not bound to account for the phenomena of Nature? One would expect
at least a thoughtful, serious, and earnest spirit, even were it a
spirit of doubt, in one surrounded with such solemn mysteries, gazing on
these black impenetrable curtains, listening to the hollow echo from
that awful chasm: nay, that seriousness might be expected to deepen into
sadness, too intensely real to be soothed by the plea of ignorance, or
assuaged otherwise than by the light of truth. But to say, "I do not
pretend to account for what I find in Nature," what is this but to
discard the whole question, to give it up as one insoluble, at least _by
him_, and to leave to others the problems which have ever exercised the
noblest and most gifted minds? Mr. Holyoake is not bound, indeed, to
explain everything, and he mistakes if he supposes that any one expects
this at his hand. There are many subjects on which even a man of science
must ingenuously confess his ignorance, and many more so little
connected with the interests and duties of life as to have only a very
slight claim on his interest and attention. But Religion is not one of
these: it is so closely related to the welfare and the duty of men, and
has such a direct bearing on the conscience, that it demands and
deserves the serious attention of all; and no one who undertakes to
instruct his fellow-men, and especially when he attempts to overthrow
their most sacred convictions, is entitled to turn round and say, "I do
not pretend to account for what I find in Nature." He is bound to give
some intelligible answer to the question, What is the cause of these
marvellous phenomena which I behold? and what is the ground of that
religious belief which has always prevailed in the world?
But Mr. Holyoake is deterred from any attempt to answer such questions
by its amazing presumption: "The assumption is,--we may look through
Nature up to Nature's God. That seems to me to imply a power, a
capacity, an endowment, which repels me at the outset. If we are to deal
with the common sense of probability, I say I am repelled by the amazing
probability which is against me if I am to deal with the assumption of
distinctness,--that I can look from Nature up to Nature's God. Why, in
the presence of this shadowy form of things, before which all men stand
in awe and dread, in the presence of so many mysteries and marvels which
art is unable to unravel, which philosophy is unable to explain, it
seems to me an immense endowment when a man can say with confidence, I
look through Nature, and beyond Nature, up to Nature's God. I say the
presumption of the thing does repel me."--"Let the profound sense of our
own littleness, which here creeps in upon us, check the dogmatic spirit
and arrest the presumptuous world; we stand in the great presence of
Nature, whose inspiration should be that of modesty, humility, and
love."--"When my friend talks so much about matter, ... his reasoning
proceeds upon this very great hypothesis, namely, that _he knows_ all
that matter can do, and all that it cannot do. If he does not know that,
I wonder by what right he says so plainly that the wonders he observes
in Nature are not the work of Nature, but of some Being above Nature.
That which repels me from that aspect of the argument is its amazing
presumption, the amount of knowledge it implies."[270] Foster's argument
against Dogmatic Atheism seems to have made some impression on Mr.
Holyoake, since he makes the important admission that "the denial of a
God implies infinite knowledge as the ground of disproof," but it is
here retorted against Dogmatic Theism; and Unbelief, at other times so
arrogant in its pretensions, so confident in the powers of reason, and
so proud of the prerogatives of man, borrows the cloak of modesty from
the wardrobe of true science, and assumes an attitude of deep humility.
At other times Mr. Holyoake does not scruple to sit in judgment on what
God,--supposing such a Being to exist,--could or could not do; on what
He could or could not permit to be done;--He could not create a moral
and responsible agent, and leave him to fall; He could not require or
receive any satisfaction for sin; He could not hear or answer the
prayers of his people; He could not inflict penal suffering, or allow it
to be permanent. There is no presumption, it would seem, in determining
what God could or could not do; but "when we stand in the great presence
of Nature," her inspiration should be "that of modesty and humility."
But presumption does not consist in looking at what we can see, or
aiming to know what may be known; and it is a bastard humility, not the
true modesty of science, which would turn away from the contemplation of
any truth, however sublime, that is exhibited in the light of its
appropriate evidence. We are not concerned to deny that it is "a great
endowment" which enables men to discern in Nature a manifestation of
God; it is a great endowment, but not too great for the mind of man, if
he was made in "the image and likeness of God;" a small mirror may
reflect the sun. Is it presumptuous in the mind of man to scale the
heavens, and trace the planets in their course, and calculate their
distances, their orbits, and their motions in the illimitable fields of
space? And if the sublime truths of Astronomy are not interdicted to our
faculties, simply because there is a natural evidence in the light of
which they may be clearly discerned, why should it be presumptuous to
look from Nature up to Nature's God, if in Nature we behold a mirror in
which His perfections are displayed? If there be presumption on either
side, does it not lie rather with those who virtually deny _the power of
God to make Himself known_,--His power to create a world capable of
exhibiting His perfections, and a mind adapted to that world capable of
discerning the perfections which are therein displayed? There might be
modesty, there might be humility in the ingenuous confession of
ignorance, saying, "I do not know;" but there can be neither in the
confidence which affirms that "no imaginable order would be sufficient"
to prove the existence of God, for what is this but to say that "he
knows all that matter _can_ do, and all that it _cannot_ do," or be made
to do?
2. Secularism admits the existence of a self-existent and eternal
Being, and thereby recognizes the fundamental law of _Causality_ on
which the Theistic proof depends, while it forces upon us the question
whether these attributes should be ascribed to Nature or to God.
"I am driven," says Mr. Holyoake, "to the conclusion that the great
aggregate of matter which we call 'nature' is eternal, because we are
unable to conceive a state of things when nothing was. There must always
have been something, or there could be nothing now. This the dullest
feel. Hence we arrive at the idea of the eternity of matter. And in the
_eternity_ of matter we are assured of the self-existence of matter, and
self-existence is the most _majestic of attributes_, and _includes all
others_."[271] "If Natural Theologians were content to stop where they
prove a _superior something_ to exist, Atheists might be content to stop
there too, and allow Theologians to dream in quiet over their barren
foundling."[272] "If I supposed that the Christian meant no more than
that something exists independently of Nature, that it may be boundless,
that it may be limited, that it may be one, that it may be many beings,
if I supposed nothing more than that was meant, then surely I would not
occupy your time or my own in discussing a question so barren of
practical consequences."--"If we reason about it, unless we take refuge
in the idea of a creation which we cannot understand, we must come to
the conclusion that _Nature is self-existent_, and that attribute is so
majestic,--the power of being independent of any ruler,--the power of
being independent of the law of other beings,--seems so majestic as
fairly to be supposed to _include all others_; for that which has power
_to be_ has power _to act_, for the power to be is the most majestic of
all forms of action."[273]
It is here admitted that there must be a self-existent, independent,
and eternal Being, that self-existence is an attribute so majestic that
it may be fairly said to include all others, that the Being to whom it
belongs is exempt from the conditions of other beings, and that the
power _to act_ is involved in the power _to be_. It is assumed, indeed,
that these attributes may belong to Nature, and that Nature is mere
matter; but, reserving this point for the present, are we not warranted
in saying that his doctrine, as stated by himself, involves the same
profound mysteries, and is embarrassed by the same difficulties, which
are often urged as objections to the theory of Religion, and that it is,
at the very least, as _incomprehensible_, as the doctrine which affirms
the existence of God? Suppose there were simply an equality in this
respect between the Theistic and Atheistic hypothesis, that both were
alike incomprehensible and incapable of an adequate explanation, still
the former might be more credible and more satisfactory to reason than
the latter, since in the one we have an intelligent and designing Cause,
such as accounts for the existence of other minds and the manifold marks
of design in Nature, whereas in the other all the phenomena of thought,
and feeling, and volition, as well as all the instances of skilful
adjustment and adaptation, must be resolved into the power of
self-existent, but unintelligent and unconscious matter.
Further it is admitted, not only that we may, but that we _must_,
proceed on the principle of Causality, the fundamental axiom of
Theology; for "there _must_ always have been something, or there _could
be_ nothing now." This principle or law of human thought leads him up to
a region which far transcends his present sensible experience, and
guides him to the stupendous height of self-existent and eternal Being.
It is assumed and applied to prove the self-existence and eternity of
matter. But if it be a valid principle of reason, its application may be
equally legitimate when it is employed, in conjunction with the manifest
evidence of _moral_ as distinct from _physical_ causation, to prove the
self-existence and eternity of a supreme intelligent Cause. A principle
such as this cannot, from its very nature, be limited within the range
of our present sensible experience. We are told, indeed, that "if we
look over the nature of our own impressions, we find we always shall
begin with things which lie below reason, with things plainer than
reason, with things which need no demonstration. Such is the nature of
the human mind, that we all begin in this sphere of equal knowledge, we
begin under the dominion of the senses, and whatever comes within that
wants no demonstration, wants no proof, wants no logic; it is the
constant, it is the most indubitable, it is the most indisputable of all
our knowledge. And if the question of the being of a God came within
that sphere, if it was found amongst those indisputable truths, if it
was found to be a matter of sense, then there would be no occasion for
us to reason at all about it: it could not be a matter of controversy,
because it never would be a matter of dispute."[274] Certain first
principles of reason are admitted, but only, it would seem, with
reference to matters of sense; but why, if there be such a principle of
reason as compels the Atheist himself to acknowledge a Self-existent and
Eternal Being? Is this a matter of sense? Is it not a conclusion of
reason,--founded, no doubt, on present sensible experience, but far
transcending it,--and yet self-evident and irresistible as intuition
itself? And if reason may thus rise from the contingent and variable to
the conception and belief of the self-existent and eternal, why may it
not be equally valid as a proof of a supreme, intelligent First Cause?
Speaking of Nature as self-existent and eternal, Mr. Holyoake ascribes
such attributes to it as might seem to imply a leaning towards
Pantheism, rather than the colder form of mere material Atheism. "It
seems to me," he says, "that Nature and God are one; in other words,
that the God whom we seek is the Nature whom we know." But he afterwards
states, with clearness and precision, in what respects Secularism
accords with, and differs from, Pantheism: "The term, God, seems to me
inapplicable to Nature. In the mouth of the Theist, God signifies an
entity, spiritual and percipient, distinct from matter. With Pantheists,
the term God signifies the aggregate of Nature,--but Nature as _a being,
intelligent and conscious_. It is my inability to subscribe to either of
these views which constitutes me an Atheist. I cannot rank myself with
the Theists, because I can conceive of nothing beyond Nature, distinct
from it, and above it.... The Theist, therefore, I leave; but while I go
with the Pantheist so far as to accept the fact of Nature in the
plenitude of its diverse, illimitable, and transcendent manifestations,
I cannot go further and predicate with the Pantheist _the unity of its
intelligence and consciousness_!"[275] He holds, therefore, that
self-existence is an attribute of Nature, that this attribute is so
majestic that it may be fairly held to include _all others_, and that,
while intelligence and consciousness exist, he cannot affirm their
_unity_ in Nature, or regard "Nature as a being, intelligent and
conscious." Whence it follows that he can give no other account of the
living, intelligent, active, and responsible beings which inhabit the
world, than that they came into existence, he knows not how, and that
they have the ultimate ground of their existence in a necessary,
underived, and eternal being, which is neither intelligent nor
self-conscious!
3. Secularism seeks to invalidate the proof from _marks of design_ in
Nature by attempting to show, either that it is _merely analogical_, and
can, therefore, afford no certainty, or that, if it were certain, it
could prove nothing, because, by an extension of the same principle, it
must prove too much.
Such is the pith and substance of Mr. Holyoake's argument in his
singular pamphlet entitled, "Paley refuted in his own Words." He first
of all endeavors to invalidate the proof from design by assuming that it
is a mere argument from _analogy_, and that at the best analogy can
afford no ground of _certainty_, although it may possibly suggest a
_probable conjecture_: "It may be said that _analogy_ fails to find out
God, and this must be admitted, it being no more than was to be
expected. The God of Theology being infinite, it is no subject for
analogy.... No conceivable analogy can prove a creation. Creation is
without an analogy.... No analogy can prove creation, because no analogy
can prove what it does not contain, namely, an example of
creation."[276] "Analogy, the specious precursor of reason, would
suggest the personality of the powers which awed and cheered man. Reason
sends us to facts as the only positive grounds of positive conclusions;
but in the childhood of intellect and experience, _likelihood_ is
mistaken for _certainty_, and _probability_ for _fact_. In the disturbed
reflection of man's image on the wall, as it were, of the universe,
arose the idea of God." ... "I say, if that is all you mean by your
argument, that it is _merely a matter of analogy_, if it is only a
matter of partial resemblance, I say you can get from it no complete
proof; that if you merely found it upon partial resemblance, there is no
demonstration there whatever, and your cause is no better, no sounder
than I have before described it,--as being merely _your conjecture_
about a Being independent of Nature; it is merely a conjecture, merely a
suggestion, just like my own conjecture, just like my own suggestion
about Nature being that one great Being about which we are all
concerned."[277]
But not content with assailing _analogy_ as incapable of leading to any
_certain_ conclusion, he changes his tactics, and seems at least to do
homage to it, while he insists only on its _extension_. "The argument of
_design_," he says, "is unquestionably the most popular ever developed,
and the most seductive ever displayed. It has the rare merit of making
the existence of God, which is the most subtle of all problems, appear a
mere truism,--and the proofs of such existence, which have puzzled the
wisest of human heads, seem self-evident." This tribute, however, must
be read in the light of his chosen motto,--"The existence of a watch
proves the existence of a watch-maker; a picture indicates a painter; a
house announces an architect. See here are arguments of terrible force
for children."[278] "I took up," he says, "Dr. Paley's book, ... and I
agreed with myself to admit, as I read, whatever appeared plausible. I
did so, and my objection to my author was this: Upon the grounds of
analogy and experience I found Paley insisted that design implies a
designer, that this designer must be a person, and that this person is
God: but the analogy which had been the guide to his feet, and the
experience which had been a lamp to his path, were suddenly abandoned,
and at the very moment when their assistance seemed to promise curious
revelations."--"Two modes of refutation are open; to attack the
_principle_, or pursue the _analogy_. Geoffroy St. Hilaire has taken one
course. I take the other. If, in the investigation of this question, it
be legitimate to employ analogy in one part, it must be legitimate to
employ it in like respects in another.... Analogy was Paley's alpha, it
must be made also his omega."[279] In pursuing this course, he makes
large concessions, such as might seem at first sight to involve the very
principles on which the Theistic proof depends. "That design implies a
designer, I am disposed to allow; and that this designer must be a
person, I am quite inclined to admit. Thus far goes Paley, and thus far
I go with him.... His general position, that design proves a personal
designer, is so _natural_, so _easy_, and so _plausible_, that it
invites one to admit it, to see where it will lead, and what it will
prove."--"Paley tells us that God is a person. He insists upon it as a
legitimate inference from his premises, nor _would it be easy to disturb
his conclusion_.... From Paley's premises, it is the clearest of all
inferences. Design must have a designer, because whatever we know of
designers has taught us that a designer is a person. All analogy is in
favor of this inference. This is Paley's reasoning upon the subject, and
it is too _natural_, too _rigid_, and too _cogent_ to be escaped
from."[280] Here we have an _apparent_ admission of the principle on
which the argument of _design_ is based, but it is _apparent_ only, and
is afterwards withdrawn. It was used to serve a temporary purpose, and
as soon as that purpose was served, it was thrown aside, although it had
been described as "so natural, so easy, and so plausible, that it
invites one to admit it," as "too _natural_, too _rigid_, and too
_cogent_ to be escaped from." "When I made the admission, I was going in
the footsteps of Paley, and adopting his own phraseology: then I came to
the conclusion to see whether it was right, and then _I gave it up_;
when I found it led me to a contrary result, then I gave it up; what I
supposed to be _design_ in the opening of my argument is _no longer
design_. My reverend friend is wrong in supposing that _I admit design_,
and yet refuse to admit the force of the _design argument_."[281] And
what is the reason which now induces him to deny the existence of
_design_ in Nature, and to withdraw all the admissions he had previously
made? Why, simply because he conceives that, by a legitimate extension
of the same analogy, the design argument may be pushed to a _reductio ad
absurdum_, so as to prove first the existence of an _organized person_,
"an animal God," and, secondly, an infinite series of such organized
persons, since one such must necessarily presuppose another, and that
again another, and so on _in infinitum_. For there are two stages in his
extension of the analogy. In the first, it is extended so far as to show
that the person to whom design is ascribed must necessarily be an
organized Being: in the _second_, it is still further extended, so as to
show that, being organized, that person must also have had a designer or
maker, since organization is held to imply design, and design to imply a
designer. And thus the analogy, when extended, does not lead up to one
Supreme Mind, the Infinite and Eternal Creator of all things, but to an
organized being, himself exhibiting marks of design in his organization,
and requiring therefore, like every organism, a prior cause, and, by
parity of reason, an eternal succession or infinite series of such
causes.
The following extracts will place the progressive steps of his argument
in a clear, if not convincing light: "By reasoning from analogy, Paley
infers that there is a personal, intelligent being, the author of all
design, whom he christens Deity. But what kind of a person is a Deity?
If a person, is it organized like a person? Whence came it? How did it
originate? Was it formed, as it is said to have formed us?... I ask, has
the person of Deity an organization? because, if it be unreasonable to
suppose design without a designer, it is surely as unreasonable to
suppose a person without an organization, to the full contradiction of
all analogy and all experience." ... "Every person is organized. No
person was ever known without an organization. The term person implies
it. All analogy, all experience are in favor of this truth. This is so
plain as to be admitted almost before it is stated.... No person ever
knew of consciousness separate from an organization in which it was
produced. No man ever knew of thought distinct from an organization in
which it was generated.... Shelley says that 'Intelligence is only
known to us as a mode of _animal being_.' ... We have great
authority,--the authority of universal and uncontradicted
experience,--for limiting the properties of mind to organization.... If
intelligence is without an organization, design may be without a
designer; because there are the same experience and analogy to support
the organization, as there are to support the design argument."[282]
But "organization proves _contrivance_.... If, then, every known
organization is redolent with contrivance, and teems with marks of
design, by what analogy can we conclude that _Deity's organization_ is
devoid of these properties?"--"Shelley thus states the case,--'From the
fitness of the universe to its end, you infer the necessity of an
intelligent Creator. But if the fitness of the universe to produce
certain effects be thus conspicuous and evident, how much more exquisite
fitness to this end must exist in the author of this universe!... how
much more clearly must we perceive the necessity of this very Creator's
creation, whose perfections comprehend an _arrangement_ far more
accurate and just! The belief of an infinity of creative and created
gods, each more eminently requiring an intelligent author of his being
than the foregoing, is a direct consequence of the premises.'"--"Hence
from design, designers, and persons, we have stepped to organization and
contrivance, and arrive at a contriver again."[283]
Such is the outline of his argument. He seems to think that if there be
any flaw in it, the only assailable point must be his _extension of the
analogy_: "In the chain of analogies which Paley commenced, and which I
have continued, I believe there is no defective link. The principle of
assailment, if any, is the _extension_ of the analogies beyond the Paley
point.... With the extension commences my responsibility. He who proves
an irrelevancy in it answers my book." This is, no doubt, a vulnerable
point, but we venture to think that it is not the only one. His whole
reasoning seems to proceed on an unsound view of the nature and
conditions of the argument, and is radically defective in at least
_three_ respects.
It is not correct to say that the argument of design, is _a mere
argument from analogy_. Were it so, it might, like many another process
of mere analogical reasoning, yield no more than a probable conclusion
or a plausible conjecture. But in the case before us, the conclusion is
strictly and properly an _inductive inference_. It may be suggested by
the perception of _analogy_, but it is founded on the principle of
_causality_. It is capable, therefore, of yielding, not a mere
_probability_, but an absolute _certainty_. The fact that analogy is so
far concerned in the process cannot weaken a conclusion which rests
ultimately on a fundamental law of reason, the ground-principle of all
induction. It is true, no doubt, that were we destitute of the conscious
possession of intelligence, will, and design, we should be utterly
incapable of forming these conceptions, or applying them to the
interpretation of Nature; and in a loose sense, it may be said that we
are guided by the analogy of our own experience to the belief in an
intelligent First Cause; but mere analogy would not produce that belief
without the great law of causality, which demands an adequate cause for
every effect, nor is this law deprived of its necessary and absolute
certainty merely because it comes into action along with, and is
stimulated by, the perception of obvious analogies. Is it not equally
true, that it is only by our own mental consciousness that we are
qualified to conceive of other minds, and that we are, to a certain
extent, guided by analogy to the belief that our fellow-men are
possessed, like ourselves, of intelligence and design? But who would say
that this conclusion is no more than a _probable_ conjecture, or that,
depending as it does in part on the analogy of our own experience, it
cannot yield absolute certainty? In so far as it is _merely_ analogical,
it might be only more or less probable; but being founded also on the
law of causality, it is an inductive inference, and, as such, one of the
most certain convictions of the human mind.
And so the argument derived from marks of design in Nature may be stated
in one or other of two ways:--it may be stated _analogically_ or
_inductively_. The difference between analogy and induction, which is
not always duly considered, should be carefully marked. Analogy proceeds
on _partial_, induction on _perfect_ resemblance. The former marks a
resemblance or agreement _in some respects_ between things which differ
_in other respects_: the latter requires a strict and entire similarity
_in those respects_ on which the inductive inference depends. The one by
itself may only yield a _probable_ conjecture, but the other, when
combined with it, may produce a _certain_ conviction. Accordingly the
design argument may be thrown either into the _analogical_ or the
_inductive_ form. Stated _analogically_, it stands thus: "There is an
ascertained partial resemblance between organs seen in art and organs
seen in nature; as, for instance, between the telescope and the eye.
"It is probable from analogy that there is in some further respect a
partial resemblance between organs seen in art and organs seen in
nature: in art the telescope has been produced by a _contriver_, analogy
makes it probable that in nature the eye also will have been produced by
a _contriver_."
But stated inductively, it stands thus: "If there be in nature the
manifestation of supernatural contrivance, there _must_ exist a
supernatural contriver.
"There is in nature the manifestation of supernatural contrivance.
"Therefore a supernatural contriver,--God,--must exist."[284]
Combine the perfection of analogy with the principle of causality, and
you have not only the _verisimilitude_ or _likelihood_ which prepares
the way for belief, but also a positive proof resting on a fundamental
law of reason. The inference of intelligence from marks of design in
nature is not one of analogy, but of strict and proper _induction_; and
accordingly we must either deny that there are marks of _design_ in
nature, thereby discarding the _analogy_, or do violence to our own
reason by resisting the fundamental law of causality, thereby discarding
the inductive inference. And of these two unavoidable alternatives, Mr.
Holyoake seems to prefer the former: he will venture to deny the
existence of design in nature, rather than admit the existence of design
and resist the inevitable inference of a designing cause; for he is
compelled in the long run to come round to this desperate confession,
"What I supposed to be _design_ in the opening of my argument is _no
longer design_. My reverend friend is wrong in supposing that I _admit
design_, and yet refuse to admit the force of the _design argument_."
But if he mistakes the general nature and conditions of the argument
when he speaks of it as if it were a mere argument from analogy, his
_extension of the analogy_, and the reasonings founded on it, are
equally unjustifiable and inconclusive. He forgets that analogy proceeds
on a partial resemblance in _some respects_, between things which differ
_in other respects_, and that even induction itself requires a perfect
resemblance only _in those respects_ on which the inference depends.
There may be such a resemblance between the marks of design in nature
and in art as to warrant the inference of a contriver in both; and yet
_in other respects_ there may be a dissimilarity which cannot in the
least affect the validity or the certainty of that inference. It is only
when we _extend the analogy_ beyond the inductive point, that the
conclusion becomes, in some cases, merely probable, in others altogether
doubtful. If we advance a step further than we are warranted to go by
obvious and certain analogies, our conclusions must be purely
conjectural, and cannot be accepted as inductive inferences. From what
we know of this world, and of God's design in it to make Himself known
to His intelligent creatures, we may infer, with some measure of
probability, that other worlds may also be inhabited by beings capable,
like ourselves, of admiring His works, and adoring His infinite
perfections; but if we go further, and infer either that all these
worlds must _now_ be inhabited, or that the inhabitants must be _in all
respects_ constituted as we are, we pass far beyond the point to which
our knowledge extends, and enter on the region of mere conjecture. And
so when Mr. Holyoake extends the analogy, so as to include not only the
marks of design, on which the inductive inference rests, but also the
forms of organization, with which in the case of man, intelligence is at
presented associated, although not identified, he goes beyond the point
at which analogy and induction combine to give a _certain_ conclusion,
and introduces a conjectural element, which may well render his own
inferences extremely doubtful, but which can have no effect in weakening
the grounds of our confidence in the fundamental law, which demands an
adequate cause for the marks of design in nature.
Mr. Ferrier has shown that "the senses are only _contingent conditions_
of knowledge; in other words, it is possible that intelligences
different from the human (supposing that there are such) should
apprehend things under other laws, or in other ways, than those of
seeing, hearing, touching, tasting, and smelling; or more shortly, _our_
senses are not laws of cognition or modes of apprehension which are
binding on intelligence necessarily and universally."--"A contingent law
of knowledge" is defined as "one which, although complied with in
certain cases in the attainment of knowledge, is not enforced by reason
as a condition which _must_ be complied with wherever knowledge is to
take place. Knowledge is thus possible under other conditions than the
contingent laws to which certain intelligences may be subject; in other
words, there is no contradiction in affirming that an intelligent being
may have knowledge of some kind or other without having such senses as
we have."[285]
The application of analogy as a principle of judgment is subject to
certain well-known limitations, which cannot be disregarded without
serious risk of error. They are well stated by Dr. Hampden: "There are
two requisites in order to every analogical argument:--1. That the two,
or several particulars concerned in the argument should be known to
agree in some one point; for otherwise they could not be referable to
any one class, and there would consequently be no basis to the
subsequent inference drawn in the conclusion. 2. That the conclusion
must be modified by a reference to the circumstances of the particular
_to_ which we argue. For herein consists _the essential distinction
between an analogical and an inductive argument_. Since, in an inductive
argument, we draw a general conclusion, we have no concern with the
circumstantial peculiarity of individual instances, but simply with
their abstract agreement. Whereas, on the contrary, in an analogical
argument, we draw a particular conclusion, we must enter into a
consideration of the circumstantial peculiarity of the individual
instance, in order to exhibit the conclusion in that particular form
which we would infer. Whence it follows, that whilst by induction we
obtain absolute conclusions, by analogy we can only arrive at relative
conclusions, or such as depend for their absolute and entire validity on
the coincidence of _all_ the circumstances of the particular inferred
with those of the particular from which the inference is drawn." Again:
"The circumstances _to_ which we reason may be considered of threefold
character. They are either known or unknown. If they are known, they are
either (1.) Such as we have no reason to think different, in any respect
from those under which our observations have been made; or (2.) Such as
differ in certain _known_ respects from these last. (3.) They are
unknown, where we reason concerning truths of which, from the state of
our present knowledge, from the nature of our faculties, or from the
accident of our situation as sojourners upon earth, we are totally
ignorant."[286]
With these necessary limitations, suggested by the different
circumstances in which analogy is applied, we shall have little
difficulty in disposing of Mr. Holyoake's _extension_ of Dr. Paley's
argument. Not content with resemblance _in some respects_, he requires a
sameness _in all_. He would exclude all dissimilarity, forgetting that
analogy denotes a certain relation between two or more things which in
other respects may be entirely different. We may see a resemblance
between the marks of design in nature and the ordinary effects of design
in art; and that perception of design gives rise to an intuitive
conviction or inductive inference of a designing cause: thus far we
proceed under the guidance of analogy, but on the sure ground of
induction. If we go beyond this, and insist that the designing cause
must be _in all respects_ like ourselves, that if we be organized, He
must be organized, that if we act by material organs He must act by the
same, we exceed the limits of legitimate reasoning, and enter on the
region of pure conjecture. But such conjectures, groundless as they are,
and revolting as every one must feel them to be, can have no effect in
shaking our confidence in the valid induction by which we infer from
marks of _design_ in nature the existence of a designing Cause.
It can scarcely be necessary to enlarge on the gratuitous assumptions on
which this _extension_ of the argument is made to rest;--such as that
"every person is organized," that "all power is a mere attribute of
matter," that "no man ever knew of thought distinct from an organization
in which it was _generated_." The only fragment of truth that can be
detected in these assumptions is the fact that we have, in our present
state, no experience of intelligence apart from the organization with
which it is here associated: but will this warrant the inference that
intelligence _cannot_ exist apart from organization, or that the one is
the mere product of the other? It may be a good and valid inference from
the marks of design in nature, that a designing cause must exist; for
this inference, although suggested by analogy, is founded on induction,
which requires a perfect resemblance only _in those respects_ on which
the inference depends. But to go beyond this, and to insist that the
designing cause must be organized, because we have _no experience_ of
intelligence apart from organization, is to make our experience the
measure of possible being, and to exclude, surely on very insufficient
grounds, all notion of purely spiritual personality. In "extending the
analogy beyond the Paley point," Mr. Holyoake is arguing from the
particular case of man to another case, which resembles it in some
respects, but may differ from it in others; and similar as they are in
the one point of living, designing intelligence, they may, for aught he
knows, differ in many other respects. And this we hold to be a
sufficient answer to his argument, especially when it is combined with
the consideration that the assumptions on which that argument is based
are purely gratuitous, namely, that "every person is organized," and
that there is no "thought distinct from an organization in which it is
_generated_." By these assumptions, his theory connects itself with the
grossest Materialism; and that subject has been sufficiently discussed
in a separate chapter.
But in truth we regard the whole discussion on organization as a huge
and unnecessary excrescence on his argument, for he would have come to
his point quite as effectually, and much more directly, had he said
nothing at all about an organized being, and insisted merely on one,
whether material or spiritual, possessing powers of intelligence,
contrivance, and design; for it is evidently on the existence of such a
being, and not on the arrangements or adaptations of his organic parts,
that his main argument depends, namely, that such a being implies also a
contriver, and that again another, and so on in an endless series.
Whatever force belongs to his argument lies here: it consists, not in
the evidence of design arising from material organization, but in the
necessity of a cause adequate to account for a being possessing
intelligence, purpose, and will. The existence of an endless series of
such beings is impossible, and the supposition of it is absurd; and Mr.
Holyoake himself admits a self-existent, underived, and eternal
Being,--a being exempt, therefore, from all the conditions of time and
causality to which others are subject,--while he ascribes the origin of
intelligent, self-conscious beings to Nature, which is "neither
intelligent nor self-conscious," rather than to God, the father of
spirits, Himself a Spirit, infinite, omniscient, and almighty. He
ascribes the existence of intelligent, self-conscious, personal moral
agents to a power called _Nature_, which he cannot venture to call "a
person," nor even "an animal being," and of which he "cannot predicate
with the Pantheist the unity of its intelligence and consciousness." His
theory, in so far as it is intelligible, seems to have a stronger
affinity with Pantheism than he appears to suppose. Were he to define
the meaning of the word Nature,--a word so often used in a vague,
indefinite sense,[287]--he would find that his idea bears a close
resemblance to that of the German school,[288] who speak of the first
being as the _Indifference of the different_,--a certain vague,
undetermined, inexplicable entity, possessing no distinctive character
or peculiar attributes, whose existence is necessary, but not as a
living, self-conscious, and active being, while it is the cause of all
life and intelligence and activity in the universe; in short, a mere
abstraction of the human mind. To some such cause, if it can be called a
cause, Mr. Holyoake ascribes all the phenomena of the universe; or he
leaves them utterly unaccounted for, and takes refuge in an eternal
series of derived and dependent beings, without attempting to assign any
reason for their existence. He undertakes to account for nothing. He
leaves the great problem unsolved, and discards it as insoluble. "Mr.
Harrison demanded of me, where the first man came from? I said, I did
not know; I was not in the secrets of Nature." "I cannot accept, says
one, the theory of progressive development, it is so intricate and
unsatisfying." "If something must be self-existent and eternal, says
another, why may not matter and all its properties be that something?"
"The Atheist holds that the universe is an endless series of causes and
effects _ad infinitum_, and therefore the idea of a _first_ cause is an
absurdity and a contradiction."[289] In short, the eternity of the world
is assumed, the origin of new races is left unexplained, and no account
whatever is given of the order which everywhere exists in Nature. In the
last resort, he takes refuge in the plea of _ignorance_. His only answer
is, "I do not know, I am not in the secrets of Nature."
But how does his extension of Paley's argument justify the position
which he now assumes? Or how can it invalidate the admissions which he
had previously made? That extension of the argument, even were it
supposed to be legitimate, amounts simply to this, that a designer must
be an organized being, and, as such, must have had a cause. But what
analogy suggests, or what law of reason requires, an _infinite series_
of such causes? And what is there in this extension of the argument that
should exclude the idea of a First Cause? It is thought, indeed, that by
connecting intelligence with organization, we may succeed at least in
excluding His infinity, His omnipresence, and other attributes which are
ascribed to the Most High: but the main stress of the argument rests not
on the fact of organization, but on the supposed necessity of _an
endless series_ of contrivers to account for the existence of any one
intelligent being, whether organized or not is of little moment. Now,
this is a mere assumption, an assumption entirely destitute of proof, an
assumption which is not necessarily involved even in the proposed
extension of the analogy: for all that the analogy, however extended,
can possibly require is a cause adequate to the production of designing
minds, and that cause may be a self-existent, underived, and eternal
Being. Let the analogy be extended ever so far, it must reach a point at
which we are compelled, by the fundamental law of _causality_, to rise
to a self-existent Being, exempt from all conditions of time, space, and
causality. Mr. Holyoake admits the very same truth in regard to Nature
which we maintain in regard to God: "I am driven to the conclusion that
Nature is eternal, because we are unable to conceive a state of things
when nothing was.... And in the eternity of matter, we are assured _of
the self-existence_ of matter, and self-existence is the most majestic
of all attributes, and includes all others;" it is "the power of being
_independent of the law of other beings_." Now, what is there in the
proposed extension of the analogy that should exclude the idea of a
self-existent First Cause, or shut us up to the admission of an endless
series of designing causes? And still further, what is there in the
proposed extension of the analogy which should invalidate the argument
from design, or induce Mr. Holyoake to _give it up_, and to withdraw
the concessions which he had previously made in regard to it? These
concessions must be supposed to have been honestly made in deference to
the claims of truth, and they are not in the least affected by the
extension of the analogy. It is still true, if it ever was, _that order
prevails in Nature_; and this is admitted: "If by Atheism is meant the
belief that all that we see in Nature is the result _of chance_, of a
fortuitous concourse of atoms, nothing would be so absurd as Atheism.
Nothing can be more evident than that _law and order_ prevail in Nature,
that every species of matter, organic or inorganic, is impressed with
certain laws, according to which all its properties and movements are
regulated.... In denying, therefore, the existence of a personal,
intelligent Deity, we do not admit that there is any chance,
contingency, or disorder in Nature: we do not deny, but absolutely
affirm, the constant and universal operation of _law and order_. This we
do, because it is a matter of fact of obvious and daily
experience."[290] Again, it is still true, if it ever was, that _design
implies a designer_; and this, says Mr. Holyoake, "I am disposed to
allow; and that this designer must be a person, I am quite inclined to
admit. Thus far goes Paley, and, therefore, thus far I go with him. His
general position, that design proves a personal designer, is so
_natural_, so _easy_, and so _plausible_, that it invites one to admit
it.... Paley insists upon it as a legitimate inference from his
premises, nor would it be easy to disturb his conclusion.... This is
Paley's reasoning upon the subject, and it is too _natural_, too
_rigid_, and too _cogent_ to be escaped from." Now, what is there in the
proposed extension of the analogy that can invalidate either of these
admissions, or that should induce us to set aside both? Extend the
analogy ever so far, it is still true that _law and order_ prevail in
Nature, that design implies a _designer_, and that a designer must be a
_person_. And how does Mr. Holyoake save his consistency? Simply by
stretching the analogy till it snaps asunder; he begins by extending,
and ends in destroying it; he admits it at first, merely "to see where
it will lead and what it will prove," and finding that it must imply an
organized designer, and an endless series of such beings, "he gives it
up," and denies the existence of _design_ altogether. There is a
_hiatus,_ it would seem,--an impassable gulf,--between the admission
that _law and order_ prevail in Nature, and the conclusion that _law and
order_ are manifestations of _design_: "What I supposed to be design in
the opening of my argument is _no longer design_. My reverend friend is
wrong in supposing that I admit DESIGN, and yet refuse to admit the
force of the _design argument_," On the supposition, then, that _law and
order_ are manifestations of _design_, the design argument might be
valid and conclusive: but "_no conceivable order_" could prove the
existence of God; why? Because no conceivable order could be a
manifestation of _design_. But how is this proved by the extension of
the analogy? Does it not amount to a denial of the analogy itself? And
is it not an instructive fact that his abortive attempt to disprove the
design argument, results, not in the denial of the _inductive
inference_, but in the exclusion of the very _analogy_ which he proposed
to extend, not in shaking the validity of the proof, but in disputing
the fact on which it is based? The extension of the analogy cannot prove
either that law and order are _not_ manifestations of design, or that
there may be design without a personal designer; all that it could
prove, even were it legitimate, would be the existence of an _organized_
instead of a _spiritual_ Being, which, on the supposition of its
self-existence,--a supposition which is not excluded by the argument,
since that majestic attribute, which may be fairly held to "include all
others," is expressly admitted,--neither requires nor admits of an
infinite series of contrivers.
4. Secularism denies the truth of a special Providence, and also the
efficacy of Prayer, while it justly holds both to be indispensable for
the purposes of practical religion.
The importance of these doctrines is strongly declared, and sometimes
illustrated with much apparent feeling, by Mr. Holyoake himself: "There
is more mixed up with the question than the mere fact as to whether some
Being exists independently of Nature; for instance, if any man would
debate whether there existed a Divine Being, whether a Providence, who
was the Father of His creatures, whom we could propitiate by prayer in
our danger, from whom we could obtain light in darkness, and help in
distress,--if any man debated a proposition like this, I should say
there was much of great practical utility about it.... If you tell me
God exists, that he is a power, a principle, or spirit, or light, or
life, or love, or intelligence, or what you will,--if He be not a Father
to whom His children may appeal, if He be not a Providence whom we may
propitiate, and from whom we can obtain special help in the hour of
danger,--I say, practically, it does not matter to us whether He exists
or not."[291] "The great practical question is, whether there exists a
Deity to whom we can appeal, who is the Father of his children, who is
to be propitiated by prayer, and who will render us help in the hour of
danger and distress."
With the spirit of these remarks every believer will cordially
sympathize. He knows that there can be no practical religion without
faith in Providence and confidence in prayer; for "he that cometh to God
must believe that He is, and that He is _the rewarder_ of them that
diligently seek Him." Mr. Holyoake does not err in supposing that this
is the general belief of Christians, or that it is explicitly sanctioned
in Scripture. He may, and we think he does err in his interpretation of
the Bible doctrine, and the inferences which he deduces from it; but
assuredly Christianity would be robbed of its most attractive and
endearing attributes, were it represented as silent on the paternal
character of God and His providential care. He is right in saying that
"the Providence man needs, the Providence the old theologies gave him,
was a personal Providence, an available help.... I care only to add,
that there is hardly any feature in the Christian system which is so
seductive as this doctrine of a special Providence.... Do you not know
that in all your appeals your success depends upon your telling all
orders of people that there is One in heaven who cares for them, that
every prayer will be answered, that every hair of their head is
numbered, that not a sparrow falls to the ground without their heavenly
Father's knowledge, and are not they worth more than many
sparrows?"[292] He sees the necessity, and seems to feel the
attractiveness, of the doctrine; yet he denies its truth: why? because
it is contradicted, as he conceives, by experience. He adduces his own
personal experience, and then appeals to the experience of his
fellow-men: "I once prayed in all the fervency of this same religion. I
believed once all these things. I put up prayers to Heaven which I
cannot conceive how humanity could have refused to respond to,--prayers
such as if put up to me I must have responded to. I saw those near and
dear to me perishing around me; and I learned the secret I care no
longer to conceal, that man's dependence is upon his courage and his
industry, and dependence upon Heaven there seems to be none."[293] Such
was his private experience; and facts of public notoriety are appealed
to in confirmation: "It has long seemed to me the most serious libel on
the character of the Deity to assume for one moment that he interferes
in human exigencies. A mountain of desolating facts rises up to shame
into silence the hazardous supposition? Was not the whole land a short
time ago convulsed with horror at the fate of the _Amazon_? There was
not a wretch in the whole country whose slumbering humanity would not
have been aroused in the presence of that dismal calamity." ... "How is
it that liberty is in chains all over Europe, if God be still
interposing in human affairs? If the older doctrine were true, if our
brother's blood still cried to God from the ground, the patriot would be
released from the dungeon, and the tyrant would descend from the throne
he has polluted."--"Science has shown us that we are under the dominion
of general laws, and that there is no special providence, and that
prayers are useless, and that propitiation is vain; that whether there
be a Deity independent of Nature, or whether Nature be God, it is still
_the God of the iron foot_, that passes on without heeding, without
feeling, and without resting; that Nature acts with a fearful
uniformity, stern as fate, absolute as tyranny, merciless as death; too
vast to praise, too inexplicable to worship, too inexorable to
propitiate, it has no ear for prayer, no heart for sympathy, no arm to
save."[294]
In these and similar appeals to the facts of individual or common
experience, the scriptural doctrine of Providence and Prayer is supposed
to be very different from what it really is, and stated without any of
the qualifications which are expressly declared by the sacred writers.
--It is nowhere declared in Scripture that _every_ prayer must receive
an immediate answer, whatever may be the object for which it is
presented, or the spirit in which it is offered. On the contrary it is
expressly written, "If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not
hear me." "But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering; for he that
wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed: For
let not that man think that he shall receive anything of the Lord." "Ye
ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it on
your lusts."[295]
--It is nowhere declared in Scripture that man is to obtain whatever he
asks, irrespective of that Sovereign Will which is guided by unerring
wisdom as well as infinite love. On the contrary, prayer is an
expression of dependence and subjection, and must ever be qualified by
submission to His sovereignty: "Nevertheless not my will, but Thine be
done."[296]
--It is nowhere declared in Scripture that Providence will suspend, or
that Prayer will counteract, the operation of the general laws of
Nature, excepting only in the case of those to whom a promise of
miraculous power was vouchsafed. On the contrary, these laws are
declared to be stable and permanent: "Thou hast established the earth,
and it abideth: they continue this day according to thine ordinances:
for all are thy servants;" and any wilful neglect or violation of these
laws is a sinful _tempting_ of Providence, even when it may seem to be
sanctioned by a perverse application of Scripture itself; for the
Saviour himself was solicited on this wise, "If thou be the Son of God,
cast thyself down; for _it is written_, He shall give his angels charge
concerning thee, and in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any
time thou dash thy foot against a stone;" but he answered, "_It is
written_ again, Thou shalt not _tempt_ the Lord thy God."[297]
--It is nowhere declared in Scripture that Providence will secure, or
Prayer obtain, exemption from the afflictions and calamities of life. On
the contrary it is written, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous,
but the Lord delivereth him out of them all." "In the world ye shall
have tribulation: but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." "If
ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons; for what son
is he whom the father chasteneth not?" "Now no chastening for the
present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless afterward it
yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are
exercised thereby." "We glory in tribulations also; knowing that
tribulation worketh patience, and patience experience, and experience
hope." "For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for
us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." "And we know that
_all things_ work together for good to them that love God!... Who shall
separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or
persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Nay, in _all
these things_ we are more than conquerors through him that loved
us."[298]
--It is nowhere declared in Scripture that Providence will award, or
that Prayer may hope to secure, a regular and equal distribution of good
and evil in the present life. On the contrary the present state is
described as a scene of probation, trial, and discipline, which is
preparatory to a state of retribution hereafter: "I saw under the sun
the place of judgment, that wickedness was there; and the place of
righteousness, that iniquity was there. I said in mine heart, God shall
judge the righteous and the wicked; for there is a time for every
purpose and for every work." "Because sentence against an evil work is
not executed speedily, therefore the heart of the sons of men is fully
set in them to do evil. Though a sinner do evil a hundred times, and his
days be prolonged, yet surely I know that it shall be well with those
that fear God, which fear before Him: but it shall not be well with the
wicked, neither shall he prolong his days, which are as a shadow;
because he feareth not before God."[299] "This is the faith and patience
of the saints;" a faith which is often staggered, a patience which may
be ready to fail, in the view of the darker aspects of Providence; for
many a true believer may say, "As for me, my feet were almost gone, my
steps had well-nigh slipped; for I was envious at the foolish, when I
saw the prosperity of the wicked;" and even "the spirits of just men
made perfect" sing the song, "O Lord! how long?"
--It is nowhere declared in Scripture that Providence excludes the aid
of Science, or that Prayer supersedes the diligent use of ordinary
means. On the contrary it is written, "When wisdom entereth into thine
heart, and knowledge is pleasant unto thy soul, discretion shall
preserve thee, understanding shall keep thee;" and believers are
required to be "not slothful in business," while they are "fervent in
spirit, serving the Lord."[300]
On all these points, so clearly involved in the Christian doctrine of
Providence and Prayer, Mr. Holyoake's argument rests on assumptions
which are utterly groundless, and hence he imagines that the doctrine is
contradicted by experience, when a more scriptural view of it would be
sufficient to obviate all his objections. He reasons as if there could
be no truth in the doctrine of a special Providence, and no efficacy in
Prayer, unless _every_ petition were immediately heard and answered;
unless the cry of nature in distress were sufficient to ward off the
stroke of disease and bereavement, and to avert all the calamities of
life; unless the operation of the general laws of Nature were forthwith
suspended; unless the present state of trial and discipline were
converted into one of strict and impartial retribution; and unless man's
wisdom and man's agency were to be superseded altogether by dependence
on a higher power. But not one of these suppositions has any place in
the doctrine of Scripture on the subject. It speaks of a special
Providence, but not such as is incompatible with the constant operation
of natural laws; it ascribes a certain efficacy to Prayer, but not such
as implies a miraculous interference with the ordinary course of Nature,
and still less an exemption from affliction, or an equal distribution of
good and evil in the present life. If it be said that such being the
doctrine of Scripture, it can afford little or no consolation, since it
holds out no hope of sure and instant relief in circumstances of
distress and danger, may we not ask, Is there no comfort in knowing that
our affairs are under the superintendence of a Being everywhere present,
infinitely wise and good, whose ear is ever open to our cry, who is able
to do for us exceeding abundantly above all that we can ask, and who has
promised to sustain us in all our trials, to sanctify us by means of
them, and to make all things work together for our good? Is there no
comfort in being able to say, "God is our refuge and strength, a very
present help in trouble, therefore will not we fear though the earth be
removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea."
"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. Yea, though I walk through
the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art
with me." "The Lord shall deliver me from every evil work, and will
preserve me unto His heavenly kingdom"?[301] Is there not enough for all
the purposes of practical religion in the assurance, "Ask, and it shall
be given you; seek, and ye shall find; ... for if ye, being evil, know
how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your
Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask Him?" "Your
heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. Seek ye
first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness; and all these things
shall be added unto you"?[302] And when the believer is enabled in any
measure to comply with the injunctions of Scripture,--"Cast thy burden
on the Lord, and He will sustain it," "Commit thy way unto Him, and He
will bring it to pass," "Be careful for nothing, but in everything by
prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made
known unto God, and the peace of God, which passeth all understanding,
shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus,"--does he not
know experimentally that it is faith in a living, personal God,--the God
of providence, and the Hearer of prayer, and not the desolate doctrine
of Nature,--"the _God of the iron foot_, stern as fate, absolute as
tyranny, and merciless as death,"--that can sustain him under every
trial, and nerve him with fresh vigor for the "battle of life"?
Mr. Holyoake refers to his own experience, and appeals to the experience
of his fellow-men, in confirmation of his _negative_ conclusion in
regard to a special Providence and the efficacy of Prayer. But what
weight is due to his testimony in such a case? Is it sufficient to
countervail the experience of all in every age--"the great cloud of
witnesses"--who have unanimously declared that "the Lord hath not
forsaken them that seek Him," and that "He hath not said to the seed of
Jacob, Seek ye my face in vain"? Which is entitled to the greater
weight, the testimony of Mr. Holyoake, or that of the Psalmist, "I
waited patiently for the Lord, and He inclined unto me, and heard my
cry;" or that of the prophet, "I cried by reason of mine affliction unto
the Lord, and He heard me: out of the belly of hell cried I, and thou
heardest my voice: When my soul fainted within me I remembered the Lord,
and my prayer came in unto Thee into thine holy temple;" or that of the
apostle, "For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might
depart from me; and He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee,
for my strength is made perfect in weakness"?[303] A cry for help may
not be "the prayer of faith," but the utterance of an unsubdued and
rebellious will, and can afford no test, therefore, of the truth of the
doctrine of Scripture.
But "Science," says Mr. Holyoake, "is the providence of life, and
spiritual dependence may be attended with material destruction." He
would substitute, therefore, the Science of man for the Providence of
God, and secular _diligence_ for spiritual _dependence_. But is there no
room for both? Are they necessarily incompatible or mutually exclusive?
Why should the Science of man be opposed to the Providence of God, or
secular industry to religious faith? All Christians combine the two; why
should Mr. Holyoake seek to divorce them? What is Science? It is "the
well-devised method of using Nature; it is in this that Science is the
providence of man. It is not pretended that Science is a perfect
dependence; on the contrary, it is admitted to be narrow and but
partially developed; but it is the only special dependence that man
has."[304] And is the _wise use of Nature_ inconsistent with Religion?
is it the exclusive monopoly of Atheism? Or is spiritual dependence
necessarily incompatible with industrial pursuits? Who have been the
most scientific and the most industrious members of the community, the
small band of Atheists, or the great body of Christians? To the latter
belong all the advantages which Science, or the wise use of Nature, can
secure, while they have _besides_ a Providence, distinct from Nature and
superior to it, whose wakeful eye never slumbers, and whose ear is ever
open to their cry.
5. Secularism seeks to supersede Religion, and to substitute _morality_
in its stead,--but a _morality_ which leaves men irresponsible for their
belief, their passions, and even their actions, to any superior Power.
"The histories of all ages," says Mr. Holyoake, "and the bitter
experience of mankind, prove the pernicious influence of piety. It seems
a more useful work cannot be performed than to sweep away the assumed
foundations of all religions." "I deem it inimical to human welfare, and
should no more proceed to supply a new religion than the people who had
just interred the cholera would think of raising a plague.... Religion
is a distraction of social progress; once removed, no wise man will
desire its restoration."
"But one question remains to be answered, If Religion is not our proper
business, what is? I answer, _Morality_!... By Religion I understand a
system of human duties, commencing from a God: by Morality a system of
human duties, commencing from man. Religion asks but one question, Is an
act pleasing to Deity? Morality makes the wiser inquiry, Is an act
useful to man? The standard of religion varies with fickle creeds; the
standard of morality is _utility_."[305] "There exist (independently of
Scriptural Religion) guarantees of morality in human nature, in
intelligence, and utility." "Morality, that system of human duties
commencing from man, we will keep distinct from Religion, that system of
human duties assumed to commence from God."[306] "Nature refers us to
science for help, and to humanity for sympathy; love to the lovely is
our only homage, study our only praise, quiet submission to the
inevitable our _duty_, and work is our only worship."[307] "We, by
establishing morals independently of scriptural authority, and basing
them on secular considerations,--more immediate, more demonstrative and
universal,--attain a signal benefit; for when Inspiration is shaken, or
Miracles fail you, or Prophecy eludes the believer, he breaks away, and
probably falls into vice; while we hold the thinker by the thousand
relations of Natural Affection, Utility, and Intelligence, which the
Christian distrusts.... A man may do good because it is honest, because
it is useful, because it is commanded by human law, because it is
humane, because it is polite, because it is a noble pleasure."[308] Of
course, when Morality is thus divorced from Religion there can be no
responsibility to a higher Power, and man is not accountable to any one
for his belief, his passions, his will, his character or conduct, except
in so far as his _actions_ may trench on the rights of others, and
render him amenable to civil or criminal law. And Mr. Holyoake, at one
time an associate and fellow-laborer of Robert Owen, still cleaves to
the doctrine that his belief is entirely dependent on evidence, and that
his character is, to a large extent, determined by the circumstances of
his condition.
An attempt is thus made to establish the Ethics of Atheism on the ruins
of Religion. But to one who calmly reflects on the subject, it must be
evident that a scheme of morals founded on the negation of all religious
belief can have none of that authority which belongs to the expression
of a superior will, and must be utterly destitute of all sanctions
excepting such as may be found in the _natural_ consequences of our
conduct. Its only standard is _utility_; and _utility_ must be
interpreted by every man for himself, according to his own taste and
inclination. The word _duty_ is used, but there is nothing in the system
to account for the _idea_ which that word is intended to convey, nothing
to explain or justify the meaning of the phrase, _I ought_. For why
_ought_ I to do this, or refrain from that? Because it is _useful_?
because it is conducive to _happiness_? Because it will be followed by
certain natural consequences? But if I love the pleasures of sin, if I
prefer them to every other kind of enjoyment, if I am willing to accept
the consequences and to say, "Evil, be thou my good," what is there in
the system of secular ethics that should oblige me to forego my
favorite indulgences, or that can impress me with the conviction that I
_ought_ to do so? True I may suffer, and suffer much, as the drunkard
and the libertine do, in the way of natural consequence, and it may be
prudent to be temperate in the indulgence of my sensual appetites; there
may even be a sense of inward degradation, and a politic regard to the
opinions of my fellow-men, which will operate to some extent as a
restraining influence; but if I be destitute of a sense of _duty_, and
willing to brave all hazards and accept all consequences, Secularism has
nothing to say to me, and is utterly powerless to govern or control me
otherwise than by physical coercion or the power of brute force. But
admit the idea of God as a Moral Governor, and of Conscience as His
vicegerent in my soul, view the law of my moral nature as the
authoritative expression of His supreme will, and instantly I recognize
a Master whom I _ought_ to obey, and a course of conduct which it is my
_duty_ to pursue, irrespective alike of my personal propensities and of
all possible consequences. The "categoric imperative" within is felt to
be a far more solid ground, as well as a much stronger sanction, of
duty, than any that can be found in the mere consequences of my actions;
while it accounts for the innate sense of right and wrong, and the
sentiments of remorse, and shame, and fear which conscious guilt
inspires.
But Mr. Holyoake shifts the question from this broad general ground,
which is common to all earnest inquirers after truth, and seeks to
entangle us in a collateral, but subordinate, discussion respecting the
relation between Morality and Scripture. He proposes to show that "there
exist, _independently of Scriptural Religion_, guarantees of morality in
human nature," and that "morals may be established _independently of
scriptural authority_." But this is not the question: the question is a
wider and more comprehensive one, namely, whether a system of morals can
be established apart from the recognition of God, and independently of
_any_ expression, natural or supernatural, of His supreme and
authoritative will? Mr. Holyoake is bound to return and defend an
affirmative to _this_ question, and is not at liberty to take refuge in
the mere denial of the absolute dependence of morals on "scriptural
authority." The idea of _duty_ may be involved in the principles of
Natural Religion, and these may be presupposed and assumed in
Revelation; but to make out his case, he must attempt to show that
neither Natural nor Revealed Religion is necessary to establish and
sanction a code of ethics, and that the natural consequences of our
actions are sufficient _of themselves_, and without reference to the law
of a Supreme Will, to awaken and sustain a sense of moral obligation. In
point of fact, Christianity does not represent the duties of morality as
dependent on its own _sole_ authority. It sanctions these duties, it
illustrates their nature, it enforces their observance by new and
powerful motives; but it presupposes the existence of Conscience, as
God's vicegerent in the heart, and appeals to "a law" by which every man
is "a law to himself." The _law revealed_ in Scripture is binding by
reason of the authority of the Lawgiver; but not more binding than the
law written on the heart, without which we should be incapable alike of
moral instruction and of moral government. The question, then, is not
whether morality be entirely dependent on the authority of Scripture,
but whether it be so independent of Religion as to be equally
authoritative and binding with or without the recognition of God?