RELIGION.
My father in his published works was reticent on the matter of religion,
and what he has left on the subject was not written with a view to
publication.[44]
I believe that his reticence arose from several causes. He felt strongly
that a man's religion is an essentially private matter, and one
concerning himself alone. This is indicated by the following extract
from a letter of 1879:--[45]
"What my own views may be is a question of no consequence to any one but
myself. But, as you ask, I may state that my judgment often
fluctuates.... In my most extreme fluctuations I have never been an
Atheist in the sense of denying the existence of a God. I think that
generally (and more and more as I grow older), but not always, that an
Agnostic would be the more correct description of my state of mind."
He naturally shrank from wounding the sensibilities of others in
religious matters, and he was also influenced by the consciousness that
a man ought not to publish on a subject to which he has not given
special and continuous thought. That he felt this caution to apply to
himself in the matter of religion is shown in a letter to Dr. F. E.
Abbott, of Cambridge, U.S. (September 6, 1871). After explaining that
the weakness arising from bad health prevented him from feeling "equal
to deep reflection, on the deepest subject which can fill a man's mind,"
he goes on to say: "With respect to my former notes to you, I quite
forget their contents. I have to write many letters, and can reflect but
little on what I write; but I fully believe and hope that I have never
written a word, which at the time I did not think; but I think you will
agree with me, that anything which is to be given to the public ought to
be maturely weighed and cautiously put. It never occurred to me that you
would wish to print any extract from my notes: if it had, I would have
kept a copy. I put 'private' from habit, only as yet partially acquired,
from some hasty notes of mine having been printed, which were not in the
least degree worth printing, though otherwise unobjectionable. It is
simply ridiculous to suppose that my former note to you would be worth
sending to me, with any part marked which you desire to print; but if
you like to do so, I will at once say whether I should have any
objection. I feel in some degree unwilling to express myself publicly on
religious subjects, as I do not feel that I have thought deeply enough
to justify any publicity."
What follows is from another letter to Dr. Abbott (November 16, 1871),
in which my father gives more fully his reasons for not feeling
competent to write on religious and moral subjects:--
"I can say with entire truth that I feel honoured by your request that I
should become a contributor to the _Index_, and am much obliged for the
draft. I fully, also, subscribe to the proposition that it is the duty
of every one to spread what he believes to be the truth; and I honour
you for doing so, with so much devotion and zeal. But I cannot comply
with your request for the following reasons; and excuse me for giving
them in some detail, as I should be very sorry to appear in your eyes
ungracious. My health is very weak: I _never_ pass 24 hours without many
hours of discomfort, when I can do nothing whatever. I have thus, also,
lost two whole consecutive months this season. Owing to this weakness,
and my head being often giddy, I am unable to master new subjects
requiring much thought, and can deal only with old materials. At no time
am I a quick thinker or writer: whatever I have done in science has
solely been by long pondering, patience and industry.
"Now I have never systematically thought much on religion in relation to
science, or on morals in relation to society; and without steadily
keeping my mind on such subjects for a long period, I am really
incapable of writing anything worth sending to the _Index_."
He was more than once asked to give his views on religion, and he had,
as a rule, no objection to doing so in a private letter. Thus, in answer
to a Dutch student, he wrote (April 2, 1873):--
"I am sure you will excuse my writing at length, when I tell you that I
have long been much out of health, and am now staying away from my home
for rest.
"It is impossible to answer your question briefly; and I am not sure
that I could do so, even if I wrote at some length. But I may say that
the impossibility of conceiving that this grand and wondrous universe,
with our conscious selves, arose through chance, seems to me the chief
argument for the existence of God; but whether this is an argument of
real value, I have never been able to decide. I am aware that if we
admit a First Cause, the mind still craves to know whence it came, and
how it arose. Nor can I overlook the difficulty from the immense amount
of suffering through the world. I am, also, induced to defer to a
certain extent to the judgment of the many able men who have fully
believed in God; but here again I see how poor an argument this is. The
safest conclusion seems to me that the whole subject is beyond the scope
of man's intellect; but man can do his duty."
Again in 1879 he was applied to by a German student, in a similar
manner. The letter was answered by a member of my father's family, who
wrote:--
"Mr. Darwin begs me to say that he receives so many letters, that he
cannot answer them all.
"He considers that the theory of Evolution is quite compatible with the
belief in a God; but that you must remember that different persons have
different definitions of what they mean by God."
This, however, did not satisfy the German youth, who again wrote to my
father, and received from him the following reply:--
"I am much engaged, an old man, and out of health, and I cannot spare
time to answer your questions fully,--nor indeed can they be answered.
Science has nothing to do with Christ, except in so far as the habit of
scientific research makes a man cautious in admitting evidence. For
myself, I do not believe that there ever has been any revelation. As for
a future life, every man must judge for himself between conflicting
vague probabilities."
The passages which here follow are extracts, somewhat abbreviated, from
a part of the Autobiography, written in 1876, in which my father gives
the history of his religious views:--
"During these two years[46] I was led to think much about religion.
Whilst on board the _Beagle_ I was quite orthodox, and I remember being
heartily laughed at by several of the officers (though themselves
orthodox) for quoting the Bible as an unanswerable authority on some
point of morality. I suppose it was the novelty of the argument that
amused them. But I had gradually come by this time, _i.e._ 1836 to 1839,
to see that the Old Testament was no more to be trusted than the sacred
books of the Hindoos. The question then continually rose before my mind
and would not be banished,--is it credible that if God were now to make
a revelation to the Hindoos, he would permit it to be connected with the
belief in Vishnu, Siva, &c., as Christianity is connected with the Old
Testament? This appeared to me utterly incredible.
"By further reflecting that the clearest evidence would be requisite to
make any sane man believe in the miracles by which Christianity is
supported,--and that the more we know of the fixed laws of nature the
more incredible do miracles become,--that the men at that time were
ignorant and credulous to a degree almost incomprehensible by us,--that
the Gospels cannot be proved to have been written simultaneously with
the events,--that they differ in many important details, far too
important, as it seemed to me, to be admitted as the usual inaccuracies
of eye-witnesses;--by such reflections as these, which I give not as
having the least novelty or value, but as they influenced me, I
gradually came to disbelieve in Christianity as a divine revelation. The
fact that many false religions have spread over large portions of the
earth like wildfire had some weight with me.
"But I was very unwilling to give up my belief; I feel sure of this, for
I can well remember often and often inventing day-dreams of old letters
between distinguished Romans, and manuscripts being discovered at
Pompeii or elsewhere, which confirmed in the most striking manner all
that was written in the Gospels. But I found it more and more difficult,
with free scope given to my imagination, to invent evidence which would
suffice to convince me. Thus disbelief crept over me at a very slow
rate, but was at last complete. The rate was so slow that I felt no
distress.
"Although I did not think much about the existence of a personal God
until a considerably later period of my life, I will here give the vague
conclusions to which I have been driven. The old argument from design in
Nature, as given by Paley, which formerly seemed to me so conclusive,
fails, now that the law of natural selection has been discovered. We can
no longer argue that, for instance, the beautiful hinge of a bivalve
shell must have been made by an intelligent being, like the hinge of a
door by man. There seems to be no more design in the variability of
organic beings, and in the action of natural selection, than in the
course which the wind blows. But I have discussed this subject at the
end of my book on the _Variation of Domesticated Animals and
Plants_,[47] and the argument there given has never, as far as I can
see, been answered.
"But passing over the endless beautiful adaptations which we everywhere
meet with, it may be asked how can the generally beneficent arrangement
of the world be accounted for? Some writers indeed are so much impressed
with the amount of suffering in the world, that they doubt, if we look
to all sentient beings, whether there is more of misery or of happiness;
whether the world as a whole is a good or a bad one. According to my
judgment happiness decidedly prevails, though this would be very
difficult to prove. If the truth of this conclusion be granted, it
harmonizes well with the effects which we might expect from natural
selection. If all the individuals of any species were habitually to
suffer to an extreme degree, they would neglect to propagate their kind;
but we have no reason to believe that this has ever, or at least often
occurred. Some other considerations, moreover, lead to the belief that
all sentient beings have been formed so as to enjoy, as a general rule,
happiness.
"Every one who believes, as I do, that all the corporeal and mental
organs (excepting those which are neither advantageous nor
disadvantageous to the possessor) of all beings have been developed
through natural selection, or the survival of the fittest, together with
use or habit, will admit that these organs have been formed so that
their possessors may compete successfully with other beings, and thus
increase in number. Now an animal may be led to pursue that course of
action which is most beneficial to the species by suffering, such as
pain, hunger, thirst, and fear; or by pleasure, as in eating and
drinking, and in the propagation of the species, &c.; or by both means
combined, as in the search for food. But pain or suffering of any kind,
if long continued, causes depression and lessens the power of action,
yet is well adapted to make a creature guard itself against any great or
sudden evil. Pleasurable sensations, on the other hand, may be long
continued without any depressing effect; on the contrary, they stimulate
the whole system to increased action. Hence it has come to pass that
most or all sentient beings have been developed in such a manner,
through natural selection, that pleasurable sensations serve as their
habitual guides. We see this in the pleasure from exertion, even
occasionally from great exertion of the body or mind,--in the pleasure
of our daily meals, and especially in the pleasure derived from
sociability, and from loving our families. The sum of such pleasures as
these, which are habitual or frequently recurrent, give, as I can hardly
doubt, to most sentient beings an excess of happiness over misery,
although many occasionally suffer much. Such suffering is quite
compatible with the belief in Natural Selection, which is not perfect in
its action, but tends only to render each species as successful as
possible in the battle for life with other species, in wonderfully
complex and changing circumstances.
"That there is much suffering in the world no one disputes. Some have
attempted to explain this with reference to man by imagining that it
serves for his moral improvement. But the number of men in the world is
as nothing compared with that of all other sentient beings, and they
often suffer greatly without any moral improvement. This very old
argument from the existence of suffering against the existence of an
intelligent First Cause seems to me a strong one; whereas, as just
remarked, the presence of much suffering agrees well with the view that
all organic beings have been developed through variation and natural
selection.
"At the present day the most usual argument for the existence of an
intelligent God is drawn from the deep inward conviction and feelings
which are experienced by most persons.
"Formerly I was led by feelings such as those just referred to (although
I do not think that the religious sentiment was ever strongly developed
in me), to the firm conviction of the existence of God and of the
immortality of the soul. In my Journal I wrote that whilst standing in
the midst of the grandeur of a Brazilian forest, 'it is not possible to
give an adequate idea of the higher feelings of wonder, admiration, and
devotion which fill and elevate the mind.' I well remember my
conviction that there is more in man than the mere breath of his body;
but now the grandest scenes would not cause any such convictions and
feelings to rise in my mind. It may be truly said that I am like a man
who has become colour-blind, and the universal belief by men of the
existence of redness makes my present loss of perception of not the
least value as evidence. This argument would be a valid one if all men
of all races had the same inward conviction of the existence of one God;
but we know that this is very far from being the case. Therefore I
cannot see that such inward convictions and feelings are of any weight
as evidence of what really exists. The state of mind which grand scenes
formerly excited in me, and which was intimately connected with a belief
in God, did not essentially differ from that which is often called the
sense of sublimity; and however difficult it may be to explain the
genesis of this sense, it can hardly be advanced as an argument for the
existence of God, any more than the powerful though vague and similar
feelings excited by music.
"With respect to immortality, nothing, shows me [so clearly] how strong
and almost instinctive a belief it is as the consideration of the view
now held by most physicists, namely, that the sun with all the planets
will in time grow too cold for life, unless indeed some great body
dashes into the sun and thus gives it fresh life. Believing as I do that
man in the distant future will be a far more perfect creature than he
now is, it is an intolerable thought that he and all other sentient
beings are doomed to complete annihilation after such long-continued
slow progress. To those who fully admit the immortality of the human
soul, the destruction of our world will not appear so dreadful.
"Another source of conviction in the existence of God, connected with
the reason and not with the feelings, impresses me as having much more
weight. This follows from the extreme difficulty or rather impossibility
of conceiving this immense and wonderful universe, including man with
his capacity of looking far backwards and far into futurity, as the
result of blind chance or necessity. When thus reflecting, I feel
compelled to look to a First Cause having an intelligent mind in some
degree analogous to that of man; and I deserve to be called a Theist.
This conclusion was strong in my mind about the time, as far as I can
remember, when I wrote the _Origin of Species_, and it is since that
time that it has very gradually, with many fluctuations, become weaker.
But then arises the doubt--can the mind of man, which has, as I fully
believe, been developed from a mind as low as that possessed by the
lowest animals, be trusted when it draws such grand conclusions?
"I cannot pretend to throw the least light on such abstruse problems.
The mystery of the beginning of all things is insoluble by us, and I for
one must be content to remain an Agnostic."
The following letters repeat to some extent what is given above from the
_Autobiography_. The first one refers to _The Boundaries of Science: a
Dialogue_, published in _Macmillan's Magazine_, for July 1861.
_C. D. to Miss Julia Wedgwood_, July 11 [1861].
Some one has sent us _Macmillan_, and I must tell you how much I admire
your Article, though at the same time I must confess that I could not
clearly follow you in some parts, which probably is in main part due to
my not being at all accustomed to metaphysical trains of thought. I
think that you understand my book[48] perfectly, and that I find a very
rare event with my critics. The ideas in the last page have several
times vaguely crossed my mind. Owing to several correspondents, I have
been led lately to think, or rather to try to think, over some of the
chief points discussed by you. But the result has been with me a
maze--something like thinking on the origin of evil, to which you
allude. The mind refuses to look at this universe, being what it is,
without having been designed; yet, where one would most expect design,
viz. in the structure of a sentient being, the more I think on the
subject, the less I can see proof of design. Asa Gray and some others
look at each variation, or at least at each beneficial variation (which
A. Gray would compare with the raindrops[49] which do not fall on the
sea, but on to the land to fertilise it) as having been providentially
designed. Yet when I ask him whether he looks at each variation in the
rock-pigeon, by which man has made by accumulation a pouter or fantail
pigeon, as providentially designed for man's amusement, he does not know
what to answer; and if he, or any one, admits [that] these variations
are accidental, as far as purpose is concerned (of course not accidental
as to their cause or origin), then I can see no reason why he should
rank the accumulated variations by which the beautifully-adapted
woodpecker has been formed as providentially designed. For it would be
easy to imagine the enlarged crop of the pouter, or tail of the fantail,
as of some use to birds, in a state of nature, having peculiar habits of
life. These are the considerations which perplex me about design; but
whether you will care to hear them, I know not.
On the subject of design, he wrote (July 1860) to Dr. Gray:
"One word more on 'designed laws' and 'undesigned results.' I see a bird
which I want for food, take my gun and kill it, I do this _designedly_.
An innocent and good man stands under a tree and is killed by a flash of
lightning. Do you believe (and I really should like to hear) that God
_designedly_ killed this man? Many or most persons do believe this; I
can't and don't. If you believe so, do you believe that when a swallow
snaps up a gnat that God designed that that particular swallow should
snap up that particular gnat at that particular instant? I believe that
the man and the gnat are in the same predicament. If the death of
neither man nor gnat is designed, I see no good reason to believe that
their _first_ birth or production should be necessarily designed."
_C. D. to W. Graham._ Down, July 3rd, 1881.
DEAR SIR,--I hope that you will not think it intrusive on my part to
thank you heartily for the pleasure which I have derived from reading
your admirably-written _Creed of Science_, though I have not yet quite
finished it, as now that I am old I read very slowly. It is a very long
time since any other book has interested me so much. The work must have
cost you several years and much hard labour with full leisure for work.
You would not probably expect any one fully to agree with you on so many
abstruse subjects; and there are some points in your book which I cannot
digest. The chief one is that the existence of so-called natural laws
implies purpose. I cannot see this. Not to mention that many expect that
the several great laws will some day be found to follow inevitably from
some one single law, yet taking the laws as we now know them, and look
at the moon, where the law of gravitation--and no doubt of the
conservation of energy--of the atomic theory, &c., &c., hold good, and I
cannot see that there is then necessarily any purpose. Would there be
purpose if the lowest organisms alone, destitute of consciousness,
existed in the moon? But I have had no practice in abstract reasoning,
and I may be all astray. Nevertheless you have expressed my inward
conviction, though far more vividly and clearly than I could have done,
that the Universe is not the result of chance.[50] But then with me the
horrid doubt always arises whether the convictions of man's mind, which
has been developed from the mind of the lower animals, are of any value
or at all trustworthy. Would any one trust in the convictions of a
monkey's mind, if there are any convictions in such a mind? Secondly, I
think that I could make somewhat of a case against the enormous
importance which you attribute to our greatest men; I have been
accustomed to think second, third, and fourth-rate men of very high
importance, at least in the case of Science. Lastly, I could show fight
on natural selection having done and doing more for the progress of
civilisation than you seem inclined to admit. Remember what risk the
nations of Europe ran, not so many centuries ago, of being overwhelmed
by the Turks, and how ridiculous such an idea now is! The more civilised
so-called Caucasian races have beaten the Turkish hollow in the struggle
for existence. Looking to the world at no very distant date, what an
endless number of the lower races will have been eliminated by the
higher civilised races throughout the world. But I will write no more,
and not even mention the many points in your work which have much
interested me. I have indeed cause to apologise for troubling you with
my impressions, and my sole excuse is the excitement in my mind which
your book has aroused.
I beg leave to remain, dear sir,
Yours faithfully and obliged.
Darwin spoke little on these subjects, and I can contribute nothing from
my own recollection of his conversation which can add to the impression
here given of his attitude towards Religion.[51] Some further idea of
his views may, however, be gathered from occasional remarks in his
letters.
FOOTNOTES:
[44] As an exception, may be mentioned, a few words of concurrence with
Dr. Abbott's _Truths for the Times_, which my father allowed to be
published in the _Index_.
[45] Addressed to Mr. J. Fordyce, and published by him in his _Aspects
of Scepticism_, 1883.
[46] October 1836 to January 1839.
[47] My father asks whether we are to believe that the forms are
preordained of the broken fragments of rock which are fitted together by
man to build his houses. If not, why should we believe that the
variations of domestic animals or plants are preordained for the sake of
the breeder? "But if we give up the principle in one case, ... no shadow
of reason can be assigned for the belief that variations alike in nature
and the result of the same general laws, which have been the groundwork
through natural selection of the formation of the most perfectly adapted
animals in the world, man included, were intentionally and specially
guided."--_Variation of Animals and Plants_, 1st Edit. vol. ii. p.
431.--F. D.
[48] The _Origin of Species_.
[49] Dr. Gray's rain-drop metaphor occurs in the Essay, _Darwin and his
Reviewers_ (_Darwiniana_, p. 157): "The whole animate life of a country
depends absolutely upon the vegetation, the vegetation upon the rain.
The moisture is furnished by the ocean, is raised by the sun's heat from
the ocean's surface, and is wafted inland by the winds. But what
multitudes of rain-drops fall back into the ocean--are as much without a
final cause as the incipient varieties which come to nothing! Does it
therefore follow that the rains which are bestowed upon the soil with
such rule and average regularity were not designed to support vegetable
and animal life?"
[50] The Duke of Argyll (_Good Words_, April 1885, p. 244) has recorded
a few words on this subject, spoken by my father in the last year of his
life. " ... in the course of that conversation I said to Mr. Darwin,
with reference to some of his own remarkable works on the _Fertilisation
of Orchids_, and upon _The Earthworms_, and various other observations
he made of the wonderful contrivances for certain purposes in nature--I
said it was impossible to look at these without seeing that they were
the effect and the expression of mind. I shall never forget Mr. Darwin's
answer. He looked at me very hard and said, 'Well, that often comes over
me with overwhelming force; but at other times,' and he shook his head
vaguely, adding, 'it seems to go away.'"
[51] Dr. Aveling has published an account of a conversation with my
father. I think that the readers of this pamphlet (_The Religious Views
of Charles Darwin_, Free Thought Publishing Company, 1883) may be misled
into seeing more resemblance than really existed between the positions
of my father and Dr. Aveling: and I say this in spite of my conviction
that Dr. Aveling gives quite fairly his impressions of my father's
views. Dr. Aveling tried to show that the terms "Agnostic" and "Atheist"
are practically equivalent--that an atheist is one who, without denying
the existence of God, is without God, inasmuch as he is unconvinced of
the existence of a Deity. My father's replies implied his preference for
the unaggressive attitude of an Agnostic. Dr. Aveling seems (p. 5) to
regard the absence of aggressiveness in my father's views as
distinguishing them in an unessential manner from his own. But, in my
judgment, it is precisely differences of this kind which distinguish him
so completely from the class of thinkers to which Dr. Aveling belongs.
[Illustration: THE STUDY AT DOWN.[52]]