nought the rule of philosophising which forbids us to choose the greater
of two difficulties. Their system compels them to do so, for having no
other groundwork than the strange hypotheses that time was when there
was no time--something existed when there was nothing, which something
created everything; its advocates would be tongue-tied and lost if
reduced to the hard necessity of appealing to facts, or rigidly
regarding rules of philosophising, which have only their reasonableness
to recommend them. They profess ability to account for nature, and are
of course exceedingly eager to justify a profession so presumptuous.
This eagerness betrays them into courses, of which no one bent on
rejecting whatever is either opposed to, or unsanctioned by experience,
can possibly approve. It is plain that of the God they tell us to
believe 'created the worlds,' no man has any experience. This granted,
it follows that worship of such fancied Being is mere superstition.
Until it be shown by reference to the general course of things, that
things had an author, Himself uncreated or unauthorised, religious
philosophers have no right to expect Atheists to abandon their Atheism.
The duty of priests is to reconcile religion with reason, if they can,
and admit their inability to do so, if they cannot.
Romanists will have nothing to do with reason whenever it appears at
issue with their faith. All sects, as sects, play fast and loose with
reason. Many members of all sects are forward enough to boast about
being able to give a reason for the faith that is in them; but an
overwhelming majority love to exalt faith above reason. Philosophy they
call 'vain,' and some have been found so filled with contempt for it, as
to openly maintain that what is theologically true, is philosophically
false; or, in other terms, that the truths of religion and the truths of
philosophy have nothing in common. According to them, religious truths
are independent and superior to all other truths. Our faith, say they,
if not agreeable to _mere_ reason, is infinitely superior to it. Priests
are 'at one' on the point. Dissenting and Protestant, as well as
Romanising priests, find it convenient to abuse reason and extol faith.
As priests, they can scarcely be expected to do otherwise; for reason is
a stern and upright judge, whose decrees have hitherto been unfavourable
to religion. Its professors who appeal to that judge, play a part most
inconsistent and dangerous, as is evident in the case of Origen
Bachelor, who more zealous and candid than prudent, declared the real
and only question between Atheism and Theism a question of fact,
reducing it to these terms--'Is there reason, all things considered, for
believing that there is a God, an intelligent cause of things, infinite
and perfect in all his attributes and moral qualities? [32:1]
Now, the reader has seen that the hypothesis of 'an intelligent cause of
things' involves difficulties, greater, infinitely greater than the
_one_ difficulty, involved in the hypothesis that things always existed.
He has seen the folly of explaining natural, by the invention of
supernatural mystery, because it manifestly violates a rule of
philosophising, the justness of which it would be ridiculous to dispute.
Having clearly perceived thus much, he will perhaps think it rather 'too
bad' as well as absurd, to call Atheists 'madmen' for lacking faith in
the monstrous dogma that nature was caused by 'something amounting to
nothing' itself uncaused.
There is something. That truth admits not of being evidenced. It is,
nevertheless, accepted. It is accepted by men of all religious opinions,
equally with men of no religious opinions. If any truth be self evident
and eternal, here is that truth. To call it in question would be worse
than idle. We may doubt the reality of an external world, we may be
sceptical as to the reality of our own bodies, but we cannot doubt that
there is something. The proposition falls not within the domain of
scepticism. It must be true. To suppose it false is literally
impossible. Its falsehood would involve a contradiction, and all
contradiction involves impossibility. But if proof of this were needed,
we have it in the fact that no man, sage or simple, ever pretended to
deny there is something. Whatever men could doubt or deny they have
doubted or denied, but in no country of the world, in no age, has the
dogma--there is something, been denied or even treated as doubtful. Here
then Atheists, Theists, and Polytheists agree. They agree of necessity.
There is no escape from the conclusion that something is, except we
adopt the unintelligible dogma there is nothing, which no human being
can, as nothing amounts to nothing and of what amounts to nothing no one
can have an idea. To define the word something by any other word, would
be labour in vain. There is no other word in any language whose meaning
is better understood, and they who do not under stand what it means, if
such persons there be, are not likely to understand the meaning of any
word or words whatever. Ideas of nothing none have. That there is
something, we repeat, must be true; all dogmas or propositions being
necessarily true whose denial involves an impossibility. What the nature
of that something may be is a secondary question, and however determined
cannot affect the primary dogma--things are things whatever may be their
individual or their aggregate nature. Nor is it of the least consequence
what name or names we may see fit to give things, so that each word has
its fixed and true meaning. Whether, for example, we use for the sign of
that something which is, the word Universe, or God, or Substance, or
Spirit, or Matter, or the letter X, is of no importance, if we
understand the word or letter used to be merely the sign of that
something. Words are only useful, when they are the signs of true ideas;
evidently therefore, their legitimate function is to convey such ideas;
and words which convey no ideas at all, or what is worse, only those
which are false, should at once be expunged from the vocabularies of
nations. Something is. The Atheist calls it matter. Other persons may
choose to call it other names; let them. He chooses to call it this one
and no other.
There ever has been something. Here again, is a point of unity. All are
equally assured there ever has been something. Something is, something
must always have been, cry the religions, and the cry is echoed by the
irreligious. This last dogma, like the first, admits not of being
evidenced. As nothing is inconceivable, we cannot even imagine a time
when there was nothing. Atheists say, something ever was, which
something is matter. Theists say, something has been from all eternity,
which something is not matter, but God. They boldly affirm that matter
began to be. They affirm its creation from nothing, by a something,
which was before the universe. Indeed, the notion of universal creation
involves first, that of universal annihilation, and second, that of a
something prior to everything. What creates everything must be before
everything, in the same way that he who manufactures a watch must exist
before the watch. As already remarked. Atheists agree with Theists, that
something ever has been; but the point of difference lies here. The
Atheist says, matter is the eternal something, and asks proof of its
beginning to be. The Theist insists that matter is not the eternal
something, but that God is, and when pushed for an account of what he
means by God, he coolly answers, a Being, having nothing in common with
anything, who, nevertheless, by his Almighty will created everything.
It may without injustice be affirmed, that the sincerest and strongest
believers in this mysterious Deity, are often tormented by doubts, and,
if candid, must own they believe in the existence of many things with a
feeling much closer allied to certainty than they do in the reality of
their 'Great First Cause, least understood.' No man can be so fully and
perfectly satisfied there is a God in heaven as the Author of this
Apology cannot but be of his own existence on earth. No man's faith in
the imaginary is ever half so strong as his belief in the visible and
tangible.
But few among professional mystifiers will admit this, obviously true as
it is. Some have done so. Baxter, of pious memory, to wit, who said, 'I
am not so foolish as to pretend my certainty be greater than it is,
because it is dishonour to be less certain, nor will I by shame be kept
from confessing those infirmities which those have as much as I, who
hypocritically reproach with them. _My certainty that I am a man is
before my certainty that there is a God._'
So candid was Richard Baxter, and so candid are _not_ the most part of
our priests, who would fain have us think they have no more, and we
ought to have no more, doubt about God's existence than our own.
Nevertheless, they write abundance of books to convince us 'God is,'
though they never penned a line in order to convince us, we actually
are, and that to disbelieve we are is a 'deadly sin.'
Could God be known, could his existence be made 'palpable to feeling as
to sight,' as unquestionably is the existence of matter, there would be
no need of 'Demonstrations of the existence of God,' no need of
arguments _a priori_ or _a posteriori_ to establish that existence.
Saint John was right; 'No man hath seen God at any time,' to which 'open
confession' he might truly have added, 'none ever will,' for the unreal
is always unseeable. Yet have 'mystery men' with shameless and most
insolent pertinacity asserted the existence of God while denying the
existence of matter.
Define your terms, said Locke. Atheists do so, and where necessary
insist upon others following the philosophic example. On this account
they are 'ugly customers' to Priests, who, with exceptions, much dislike
being called upon to explain their idealess language. Ask one to define
the word God and you stagger him. If he do not fly into a passion deem
yourself fortunate, but as to an intelligible definition, look for
nothing of the sort. He can't furnish such definition however disposed
to do so. The incomprehensible is not to be defined. It is difficult to
give an intelligible account of an 'Immense Being' confessedly
mysterious, and about whom his worshippers admit they only know, they
know nothing, except that
'He is good,
And that themselves are blind.'
Spinoza said, _of things which have nothing in common, one cannot be the
cause of the other;_ and to the Author of this Apology, it seems
eminently unphilosophic to believe a Being having nothing in common with
anything, capable of creating or causing everything. 'Only matter can be
touched or touch;' and as the Christian's God is not material, his
adorers are fairly open to the charge of superstition. An unknown Deity,
without body, parts or passions, is of all idols the least tangible; and
they who pretend to know and reverence him, are deceived or deceivers.
Knowledge of, and reverence for an object, imply, the power of
conceiving that object; but who is able to conceive a God without body,
parts, or passions?
In this Christian country where men are expected to believe and called
'infidel' if they cannot believe in a 'crucified Saviour,' it seems
strange so much fuss should be made about his immateriality. All but
Unitarian Christians hold as an essential article of faith, that in him
dwelt the fulness of the Godhead bodily, in other words, that our
Redeemer and our Creator; though two persons are one God. It is true
that Divines of our 'Reformed Protestant Church,' call everything but
gentlemen those who lay claim to the equivocal privilege of feasting
periodically upon the body and blood of Omnipotence. The pains taken by
Protestants to show from Scripture, Reason and Nature, that Priests
cannot change lumps of dough into the body, and bumpers of wine into the
blood of their God, are well known and appreciated. But the Roman
Catholics are neither to be argued nor laughed out of their 'awful
doctrine' of the real presence, to which they cling with desperate
earnestness. Proselytes are apt to misunderstand, and make sad mistakes
about, that doctrine. Two cases are cited by Hume in his 'Essay of the
Natural History of Religion,' which he announces as 'pleasant stories,
though somewhat profane.' According to one, a Priest gave inadvertently,
instead of the sacrament, a counter, which had by accident fallen among
the holy wafers. The communicant waited patiently for some time,
expecting that it would dissolve on his tongue, but finding that it
still remained entire, he took it off. I hope, said he, to the Priest,
you have not made a mistake; I hope you have not given me God the
Father, he is so hard and tough that there is no swallowing him. The
other story is thus related. A famous General, at that time in the
Muscovite Service, having come to Paris for the recovery of his wounds,
brought along with him a young Turk whom he had taken prisoner. Some of
the doctors of the Sorbonne (who are altogether as positive as the
dervises of Constantinople) thinking it a pity that the poor Turk should
be damned for want of instruction, solicited Mustapha very hard to turn
Christian, and promised him for encouragement, plenty of good wine in
this world and paradise in the next. These allurements were too powerful
to be resisted; and therefore having been well instructed and
catechised, he at last agreed to receive the sacraments of baptism and
Lord's Supper. Nevertheless, the Priest to make everything sure and
solid, still continued his instructions, and began the next day with the
usual question, _How many God's are there? None at all_, replied
Benedict, for that was his new name. _How! None at all?_ Cries the
Priest. _To be sure_, said the honest proselyte, _you have told me all
along that there it but one God; and yesterday I ate him._
This is sufficiently ridiculous; and yet if we fairly consider the whole
question of divinity there will be found no more absurdity in the notion
of our Benedict eating the Creator, than in Jews crucifying Him. Both
notions involve materiality. A God without body, parts, or passions,
could no more be nailed upon a cross than taken into the stomach. And if
it be urged there is something awful in the blasphemy of him who talks
of swallowing his God, the Author of this Apology can as conscientiously
urge that there is something very disgusting in the idea of a murdered
Deity.
Locke wrote rather disparagingly of 'many among us,' who 'will be found
upon inquiry, to fancy God in the shape of a man sitting in heaven, and
have other absurd and unfit conceptions of him.' As though it were
possible to think of shapeless Being, or as though it were criminal in
the superstitious to believe 'God made man after his own image.' A
'Philosophical Unbeliever,' who made minced meat of Dr. Priestley's
reasonings on the existence of God, well remarked that 'Theists are
always for turning their God into an overgrown Man. Anthropomorphites
has long been a term applied to them. They give him hand and eyes, nor
can they conceive him otherwise than as a corporeal Being. We make a
Deity ourselves, fall down and worship him. It is the molten calf over
again. Idolatry is still practised. The only difference is that now we
worship idols of our own imagination before of our hands.' [37:1]
This is bold language, but if the language of truth and soberness no one
should take offence at it. That Christians as well as Turks 'have had
whole sects earnestly contending that the Deity was corporeal and of
human shapes,' is a fact, testified to by Locke, and so firmly
established as to defy contradiction. And though every sincere
subscriber to the Thirty Nine Articles must believe, or at least must
believe he believes in Deity without body, parts, or passions, it is
well known that 'whole sects' of Christians do even now 'fancy God in
the shape a man sitting in heaven, and entertain other absurd and unfit
conceptions of him.'
Mr. Collibeer, who is considered by Christian writers 'a most ingenious
gentleman,' has told the world in his treatise entitled 'The Knowledge
of God,' that Deity must have some form, and intimates it may probably
be the spherical; an intimation which has grievously offended many
learned Theists who consider going so far 'an abuse of reason,' and warn
us that 'its extension beyond the assigned boundaries, has proved an
ample source of error.' But what the 'assigned boundaries' of reason
are, they don't state, nor by whom 'assigned.' That if there is a God,
He must have some form is self-evident; and why Mr. Collibeer should be
'called over the coals' by his less daringly imaginative brethren, for
preferring a spherical to a square or otherwise shaped Deity, is to my
understanding what God's grace is to their's.
But admitting the unfitness, and absurdity, and 'blasphemy' of such
conceptions, it is by no means clear that any other conceptions of the
'inconceivable' would be an improvement upon them. The Author's serious
and deliberate opinion is, that ascribing to Deity a body analagous to
our own, is less ridiculous than affirming he has _no_ body; nor can he
admire the wisdom of those Christians who prefer a partless, passionless
God, to the substantial piece of supernaturalism adored by their
forefathers. Undoubtedly, the matter-God-system has its difficulties,
but they are trifles in comparison with those by which the
spirit-God-system is encompassed: for, one obvious consequence of faith
in bodiless Divinity is, an utter confusion of ideas in those who have
it, as regards possibilities and impossibilities. The Author confidently
submits that, no man having 'firm faith' in a Deity--without body parts
and passions--can be half so wise as the famous cook of my Lord
Hoppergollop, who said,
What is impossible can't be,
And never never comes to pass.
He, moreover, confidently submits that, granting the existence of so
utterly incomprehensible a Deity, still such Deity could not have caused
nature, or matter, unless we deny the palpably true proposition of
Spinoza, to wit--Of things which have nothing in common, one cannot be
the cause of the other. In harmony with this proposition, Atheists
cannot admit the supernatural caused the natural; for, between the
natural and the supernatural it is impossible to imagine any thing in
common.
The universe is an uncaused existence, or it was caused by something
before it. By universe we mean matter, the sum total of things, whence
all proceeds, and whither all returns. No truth is more obviously true
than the truth that matter, or something not matter, exists of itself,
and consequently is not an effect, but an uncaused cause of all effects.
From such conviction, repugnant though it be to vulgar ideas, there is
no rational way of escape; for however much we may desire, however much
we may struggle to believe there was a time when there was nothing, we
cannot so believe. Human nature is constituted intuitively or
instinctively to feel the eternity of something. To rid oneself of that
feeling is impossible. Nature, or something not nature must ever have
been, is a conclusion to which, what poets call Fate--
Leads the willing and drags the unwilling.
But does this undeniable truth make against Atheism? Far from it--so
far, indeed, as to make for it: the reason is no mystery. Of matter we
have ideas clear, precise, and indispensable, whereas, of something not
matter we cannot have any idea whatever, good, bad, or indifferent. The
Universe is extraordinary, no doubt, but so much of it as acts upon us
is perfectly conceivable, whereas, any thing within, without, or apart
from the Universe is perfectly inconceivable.
The notion of necessarily existing matter seems to the Author of this
Apology fatal to belief in God; that is, if by the word God be
understood something not matter, for 'tis precisely because priests were
unable to reconcile such belief with the idea of matter's self-existence
or eternity, that they took to imagining a 'First Cause.' In the
'forlorn hope' of clearing the difficulty of necessarily existing
_matter_, they assent to a necessarily existing _spirit_; and when the
nature of spirit is demanded from these assertors of its existence they
are constrained to avow that it is material or nothing.
Yes, they are constrained to make directly or indirectly one or other of
these admissions; for, as between truth and falsehood there is no middle
passage, so between something and nothing there is no intermediate
existence. Hence the serious dilemma of Spiritualists, who gravely tell
us their God is a Spirit, and that a Spirit is not any thing, which not
any thing or nothing (for the life of us we cannot distinguish between
them) 'framed the worlds nay, _created_ as well as framed them.
If it be granted, for the mere purpose of explanation, that Spirit is an
entity, we can frame 'clear and distinct ideas of'--a real though not
material existence, surely no man will pretend to say an uncreated
reality called Spirit, is less inexplicable than uncreated Matter. All
could not have been caused or created unless nothing can be a Cause, the
very notion of which involves the grossest of absurdities.
'Whatever is produced,' said Hume, 'without any cause, is produced by
nothing; or, in other words, has nothing for its cause. But nothing
never can be a cause no more than it can be something or equal to two
right angles. By the same intuition that we perceive nothing not to be
equal to two right angles, or not to be something, we perceive that it
can never be a cause and consequently must perceive that every object
has a real cause, of its existence. When we exclude all causes we really
do exclude them, and neither suppose nothing nor the object itself to be
the causes of the existence, and consequently can draw no argument from
the absurdity of these suppositions to prove the absurdity of that
exclusion. If everything must have a cause, it follows that upon the
exclusion of other causes we must accept of the object itself or nothing
as causes. But it is the very point in question whether everything must
have a cause or not, and therefore, according to all just reasoning
ought not to be taken for granted. [40:1]
This reasoning amounts to logical demonstration (if logical
demonstration there can be) of a most essential truth, which in all ages
has been obstinately set at nought by dabblers in the supernatural. It
demonstrates that something never was, never can be caused by nothing,
which can no more be a cause, properly so called, than 'it can be
something, or equal to two right angles;' and therefore that everything
could not have had a cause which the reader has seen is the very point
assumed by Theists--the very point on which as a pivot they so merrily
and successfully turn their fine metaphysical theories, and immaterial
systems.
The universe, quoth they, must have had a cause, and that cause must
have been a First Cause, or cause number one, because nothing can exist
of itself. Oh, most lame and impotent conclusion! How in consistency can
they declare nothing can exist without a cause in the teeth of their oft
repeated dogma that God is uncaused. If God never commenced to be _He_
is an uncaused existence, that is to say, exists without a cause. The
difference on this point between Theists and Atheists is very palpable.
The former say, Spirit can exist without a cause; the latter say Matter
can exist without a cause. Whole libraries of theologic dogma would be
dearly purchased by Hume's profound remark--'if everything must have a
cause, it follows that upon the exclusion of other causes we must accept
of the object itself or of nothing as causes.'
If the God of our Deists and Christians is not matter, what is He? Upon
them devolves the difficult duty of answering that question. They are
morally bound to answer it or make the humiliating confession that they
'ignorantly worship;' that with all their boasted certainty as to the
existence of their 'deified error' they can furnish no satisfactory, or
even intelligible account of His [41:1] nature, if indeed a supernatural
or rather Unnatural Being can properly be said to have a nature.