the theory of the universe propounded by these writers, not only am
I left without any such approximate solutions, or, if that be thought
too strong a term, without any such alleviations, but all the
difficulties as regards the character, attributes, and administration
of God, are increased a thousand-fold. The Scripture account of the
"fall,"--however inexplicable it may be that God should have permitted
it,--yet does expressly assert that, somehow or other, it is man's
fault, not God's; that man is not in his normal condition, nor in the
condition for which he was created. Dark as are the clouds which
envelop the Divine Ruler, "their skirts are tinged with gold,"--pervaded
and penetrated throughout their dusky depths by that mercy which assures
us that, in some intelligible sense, this condition of man is contrary
to the Divine Will, which, from the first, resolved to remedy it; and
that a day is coming when what is mysterious shall be explained,--so
far, at least, that what has been "wrong" shall be "righted." But what
is the theory of the universe propounded by these writers? So hideous
(I solemnly declare it) that I feel ten times more compelled to reject
the universe as a work of an infinitely gracious, wise, and powerful
Creator, than if the difficulties had been simply left where the Bible
leaves them. According to their theory, man is now, just what he was
at first,--as he came from his Creator's hand; or rather in some parts
of the world (thanks to himself though) a little better than he was
originally; that God cast man forth, so constituted by the unhappy
mal-admixture of the elements of his nature,--with such an inevitable
subjection of the "idea" to the "conception," of the "spiritual
faculty" to "the degraded types,"--that for unnumbered ages--for
aught we know, myriads of ages--man has been slowly crawling up,
a very sloth in "progress" (poor beast!), from the lowest Fetichism
to Polytheism,--from Polytheism, in all its infinitude of degrading
forms, to imperfect forms of Monotheism; and how small a portion of
the race have even imperfectly reached this last term, let the
spectacle of the world's religions at the present moment proclaim!
From the more imperfect forms of Monotheism, the race is gradually
to make "progress" to something else,--Heaven knows what! but
certainly something still far below the horizon,--still concealed in
the illimitable future. For this gradual transformation from the
veriest religions grub into the spiritual Psyche, man was expressly
equipped by the constitution of his nature,--he was created this
grub. For all this truly geological spiritualism, and for all the
infinitude of hideous superstitions and cruel wrongs involved in the
course of this precious development, Mr. Parker tells us there was a
necessity,--nothing less! It was necessary, no doubt for his logic,
that he should say so; but, apart from his own argumentative exigencies,
it is impossible even to imagine any necessity whatever. It was an
"ordeal," it seems, through which man was obliged to pass. What is all
this, but to acknowledge the unaccountable nature of the problem?
With this "religious" theory admirably coincides the hypothesis of
man's having been originally created a savage, from which he was
gradually exalted to the lowest stages of civilization,--a theory
which I thought had (in mere shame) been abandoned to some few Deists
of the last century, or the commencement of this. It is true that these
writers do not expressly indorse it; but it is easy to see that they
favor it; and it is most certain that it alone is consistent with their
parallel theory of man's "religious development" from the vilest
Fetichism to (shall we say?) a mythical Christianity; though even
to that very few have yet arrived. According to this theory, the
Great Father--supposed a being of infinite power, wisdom, and
Goodness--threw his miserable offering on the face of the earth,
with an admirable "absolute religion," no doubt, and an "admirable
spiritual faculty," but the "idea" so inevitably subject to
thwarting "conceptions," and the "spiritual faculty" so perpetually
debauched by "awe and reverence," and the whole rabble of emotions
and affections with which it was to keep company,--in fact, with
the elements of his nature originally so ill poised and compounded,
--that everywhere and for unnumbered ages man has been doomed and
necessitated, and for unnumbered ages will be doomed and necessitated,
to wallow in the most hideous, degrading, cruel forms of superstition,
--inflicting and suffering reciprocally all the dreadful evils and
wrongs which are entailed by them. For this man was created; such a
thing he was,--through this "ordeal" he passes,--by original
destination. If this be the picture of the Father of All, he is less
kind to his off-spring than the most intimate "intuitions" teach
them to be to theirs. The voice of nature teaches them not to expose
their children; the Universal Father, according to this theory,
remorselessly exposed his! Such a God, projected by the "spiritual
faculties" of Mr. Newman and Mr. Parker, may be imagined to be a more
worthy object of worship than the "God of the Bible": he shall never
receive mine. If I am to abjure the Bible because it gives me
unworthy conceptions of the Deity, I must, with more reason, abjure,
on similar grounds, such a detestable theory of man's creation,
destination, and history.
As to that "progress" which is promised for the future, it is like
the necessity for the past, purely an invention of Mr. Parker; if I
receive it, I must receive it simply as matter of prophecy. If the
necessity has continued so long, then, for aught I know, it may
continue for ever; the evil is all too certain,--the bright futurity
is still a futurity. But if it ever became a reality, it would not
neutralize one of the dark imputations which such a theory of the
original destination and creation of man casts on the Divine
character; not to say, that, if Mr. Newman's doubts of man's
immortality be well founded, that better future will be of no
more avail to the myriads of our race who have suffered under the
long iron regime of necessity, than a reprieve to the wretch who
was executed yesterday!
I told Harrington I must have a copy of the paper he had just read.
I should like, with his leave, to publish it.
"O, and welcome," said he. "Only remember that its tendency is to show
that there is no tenable resting place between a revealed religion
and none at all; between the Bible and scepticism. If you make men
sceptics,--mind, it is not my fault."
"I will take the risk," said I. "I wish the controversy to be brought
to the issue you have mentioned. I know there will never be many
sceptics, any more than there will be many atheists; and if men are
convinced that the Via Media is as hard to find as you suppose,--or
as that between Romanism and Protestantism,--they will take refuge in
the BIBLE. And if it be the BOOK OF GOD indeed, this is the issue
to which the great controversy will and ought to come. But how is it
you were not tempted to become an atheist rather than a sceptic?"
"Why," said he, with a smile, "the great master of the Modern
Academy had fortified me against that. Hume, you know, confesses
that, if men be discovered without any impression of a Deity,--genuine
atheists,--we may assume that they will be found the most degraded
of the species, and only one remove above the brutes. Now I have no
wish to be set down in that category."
"Very different." said I, "is the account our modern atheists give
of themselves: they are contending that the banishment of God from
the universe, by one or other of the various theories of Atheism or
Pantheism (which I take to be the same thing, with different names),
is the tendency of all modern science? and that when that science
is perfect, God will be no more."
"My dear uncle," replied Harrington, "you are insufficiently informed
in the mystery of modern theology. There are no atheists, properly
speaking; they who are so called merely deny any personal, conscious,
intelligent sovereign of the universe. Even those who call themselves
so, and will have it that they are so, are told that they are none. I
myself have perused statements of some of our modern 'spiritualists,'
who know every thing, even other people's consciousness quite as
well as their own (and perhaps better), that the said atheists are
mistaken in thinking themselves such; that such genuine love of the
spirit of universal nature is something truly divine, and that they
are animated by 'a deeply religious spirit,' though they never
suspected it!"
"Well," said I. "if you had too much reason, as you flattered yourself
(adopting Hume's criterion), to become an atheist, could you not have
adopted such views as those of Mr. G. Atkinson and Miss Martineau, who
both possess surely (as they claim to possess) that 'religious reverence'
of nature of which you have just spoken?"
"Why," he replied, "I am afraid that, if I had too much reason for
the one, I have not faith enough for the other. That the miracles and
prophecies of the Bible may possibly have been true,--only the effect
of mesmerism;--that things quite as wonderful, or more so, happen
every day by this wonderful agent;--that every phenomenon that takes
place does so in virtue a perfectly wise LAW, without any wise
LAWGIVER;--that this wise law has, it seems, prearranged that man
should generally exhibit an inveterate tendency to religious systems
of some kind, though all religions are absurd, and persist in believing
in his free will, though free from a downright impossibility;--that
these contradictions and absurdities of man are the result of an
irreversible necessity, and yet that Mr. Atkinson may hope to correct
them;--that, by the same necessity, man is in no degree culpable or
responsible, and yet that Mr. Atkinson may perpetually blame him;
--that no man can do any thing 'wrong,' and yet that till he believes
that, man will never cease to do it;--that people may read without
their eyes, and distinguish colors as colors though they are born
blind;--that Bacon was an atheist, and that this may be proved by
induction from his own writings;--these and other paradoxes, which
I must believe, if I believe Mr. Atkinson, require a faith which it
would really be unreasonable to expect from such a sceptic as I am."
____
July 18. Till three days ago, nothing since my last date has
occurred having any special relation to the sole object of this
journal. I was glad to escape on the 13th to a quiet church some
miles off; and, after a plain and simple, but earnest, sermon from
a venerable clergyman (of whom I should like to know a little more),
I further refreshed my spirit by a long and solitary ramble of
some hours through the beautiful scenery in the midst of which
Harrington's dwelling is situated. In the course of it, I reviewed
my own early conflicts, and augured from them happier days for
my beloved nephew. I went carefully over all the main points of the
argument for and against the truth of Christianity, which in youth
had so often occupied me, and resolved that on some fair opportunity
I would recount my story to him and Mr. Fellowes. I little thought
then that I should have a larger and very miscellaneous audience to
listen to me. But this will account for my not being to seek (as
they say) when the occasion presented itself.
Three days ago (the 16th) a queer company assembled in Harrington's
quiet house. The conversations and incidents connected with that day
have led me to take refuge for the last two mornings in the solitude
of my own chamber, that I might, undisturbed, recall and record them
with as much accuracy and fulness as possible. Very much, indeed,
that I wished to remember has vanished; but the substance of what
too many said, as well as what I said myself made too deep an
impression to be easily obliterated.
Be it known to you, my dear brother, that I have been not a little
amused, I may even say instructed, by a trick played by your madcap
nephew, for the honor and glory, I suppose, of his scepticism, or for
some other motive, not easily divined. He promised me significantly
an entertainment, in which I should enjoy the "feast of reason and
the flow of soul," by which I little thought that he was going to
collect a rare party of "Rationalists" and "Spiritualists," in fact,
representatives of all the more prominent forms, whether of belief
or unbelief. I may as well call it the
SCEPTIC'S SELECT PARTY.
You remember, I doubt not, the humorous paper in the Spectator, in
which Addison introduces the whimsical nobleman who used to invite to
his table parties of men (strangers to one another) all characterized
by some similar personal defect or infirmity. On one occasion, twelve
wooden-legged men found stumping into his dining-room, one after
another, making, of course, a terrible clatter; on another, twelve
guests, who all had the misfortune to squint, amused their host with
their ludicrous cross lights; and on a third, the same number of
stutterers entertained him still more, not only by their uncouth
impediment, but by the anger with which they began to sputter at
one another, on the supposition that each was mocking his neighbor.
A short-hand writer, behind the scenes, was employed to take down
the conversation, which, says the witty essayist, was easily done,
inasmuch as one of the gentlemen was a quarter of an hour in saying
"that the ducks and green peas were very good," and another almost
an equal time in assenting to it. At the conclusion, however, the
derided guests became aware of the trick their entertainer had played
upon them; and from their hands, quicker than their tongues, he was
obliged to make a precipitate retreat. Our dinner-party of yesterday
did not break up in any such fracas, nor was the conversation so
unhappily restricted. Yet the company was hardly better assorted. To
bring it together, Harrington ransacked his immediate circle, and
Fellowes unconsciously recruited for him in the university town. Our
host had provided for our mutual edification an Italian gentleman,
with whom he had had some pleasant intercourse on the Continent, (by
the way he spoke English uncommonly well,) and now staying with a
Roman Catholic in the neighborhood: this gentleman himself, with
whom Harrington, by means of his former friend, has knocked up an
acquaintance (he is a liberal Catholic of the true British species);
our acquaintance, Fellowes, with his love of "insight" and
"spiritualism"! a young surgeon from ----., a rare, perhaps unique,
specimen of conversion to certain crude atheistical speculations of
Mr. Atkinson and Miss Martineau; a young Englishman (an acquaintance
of Harrington's) just fresh from Germany, after sundry semesters
at Bonn and Tubingen, five hundred fathoms deep in German philosophy,
and who hardly came once to the surface during the whole entertainment;
three Rationalists (acquaintances of Fellowes), standing at somewhat
different points in the spiritual thermometer, one a devoted advocate
of Strauss: add to these a Deist, no unworthy representative of the
old English school; one or two others further gone still; a Roman
Catholic priest, an admirer of Father Newman, who therefore believes
every thing; our sceptical friend Harrington, who believes nothing;
and myself, still fool enough to believe the Bible to be "divine,"
--and you will acknowledge that a more curious party never sat
down to edify one another with their absurdities and contradictions.
Questionable as was the entertainment for the mind, that for the body
was unexceptionable. The dinner was excellent; our host performed his
duties with admirable tact and grace; and somehow speedily put
every body at his ease. Relieved, according to the judicious modern
mode, of the care of supplying the plates of his guests, he had eye,
ear, and tongue for every one, and leisure to direct the conversation
into what channel he pleased. He took care to turn it for some time on
indifferent topics; and each man lost his reserve and his frigidity
almost before he was aware; so that, by the time dinner was fairly
over, every one was ready for animated conversation. If any one began
to have queer suspicions of his neighbors, he felt, as on board ship,
that he was in for it, and bound, by common politeness, to make the
best of it. The Deist, addressing himself to the Italian gentleman,
asked him if he had heard lately from Italy. He replied in the
negative.
"I can tell you some news, then," said he. "They say that the head
of the illustrious Guicciardini family has been just imprisoned at
Florence, having been detected reading in Diodati's Bible a chapter
in the Gospel of St. John. Supposing the fact true, for a moment,
may I ask if it would be the wish of the Roman Catholic Church, were
she to regain her power in England, to imprison every one who was
found reading a chapter in John? If so, England would have to enlarge
her prisons."
"Not much," said one of the Rationalist gentlemen, laughing; "for if
things go on as they have done, there will not, in a few years, be
many who will be found reading a chapter in John."
"Perhaps so," said Harrington, smiling, "but, if for the reason
you would assign, few will be found in church either; and the
ecclesiastical authorities might perhaps put you in prison for
that instead."
"O, I will answer for him!" said the Deist, who knew something of
his plasticity; "our friend is very accommodating, and though he
would not like to go to go to church, he would still less like to
go to prison. And to church he would go; and look very devout into
the bargain. But, however, I should like to hear what your Italian
guest has to say to my question."
The impatience of the English Catholic could not be repressed.
"If," said he, "the Roman Catholic religion were to regain its
ascendency to-morrow, it would leave our entire code of laws,
liberties, and privileges just as it found them; it is one of the
many calumnies with which our Church is continually treated, to say
that she would act otherwise: and were it not so, I would
immediately desert her."
The Catholic priest did not look well pleased with this frank avowal.
"I quite believe you," said our host. "I believe you are too much of
an Englishman to say or to act otherwise."
"So do I," said the Deist; "I moreover agree with you, that, if the
Roman Catholic religion were to regain her ascendency to-morrow, she
would leave all our privileges intact; but would she the next day,
and the day after that? In other words, is it an essential principle
with her to persecute,--as in this instance, to imprison for peeping
between the leaves of the Bible,--or is it not? Do you think, Signor,
that in such acts the principles of your Church are complied with
or violated?"
The Italian gentleman looked perplexed; he presumed that the Catholic
Church complied with the actual laws of every country; and if such
Country chose to deny religious liberty, the Church did not deem
it requisite to declare opposition.
"I fear that is no answer to my question," cried the other, a little
cavalierly. "It cannot serve you, Signor. It would not, indeed, serve
you anywhere for we know the anxiety with which Rome has expressly
secured, in her recent concordat with Spain, the recognition of the
most intolerant maxims. But least can it serve you in the Papal
States, where, unluckily for your observation, the Pope is monarch.
Your remark would imply that your Church favored the principles of
religious liberty rather than otherwise, but did not deem it right
to oppose the will of civil governments. Are we to understand by that,
that the chief of the Papal States abhors as a Pope what he does as
a sovereign? that in the one capacity he protests against what he
allows in the other? No, no," continued this brusque assailant, "It is
too late to talk in that way. If the Church of Rome really approve
of religious liberty,--of such principles as those which govern
England,--where are her protests and her efforts against intolerance
and persecution where she still retains power? It is the least that
humanity can expect of her. If not, let her plainly say that, when
she regains power in England, she will reform us to the condition
of Spain and Italy in this matter. For my part, I frankly
acknowledge, that I have more respect for a Roman Catholic who
proclaims that it is inconsistent for his Church to tolerate where
it has the power to repress, because I see that that is her uniform
practice, and therefore ought to be her avowed maxim."
The Roman Catholic priest, who is a devoted admirer of Father Newman,
said that he thought so too; and quoted some candid recent admissions
to that effect from certain English Roman Catholic periodicals.
"To employ," said he, "the very words of a recent convert to us
from the Anglican Church, 'The Church of Rome may say, I cannot
tolerate you; it is inconsistent with my principles; but you can
tolerate me, for it is not inconsistent with yours."
The Deist remarked that it was straightforward; that he admired it.
"Though as an argument," said he, "it is much as if a robber should
say to an honest man on the king's highway, 'How advantageously I
am situated! You cannot rob me, for it is inconsistent with your
principles; but I can rob you, for I have none.'"
Another of the company observed that he feared it was in vain for
the Church of Rome to contend that she was favorable to freedom of
opinion, in any degree or form, so long as the "Index Expurgatorius"
was in existence, or such stringent means adopted to repress the
circulation and perusal of the Scriptures.
The liberal English Catholic again chafed at this last indictment.
"It was," he said, "another of the calumnies with which his Church
was treated."
"Hardly a calumny, my good sir," replied the other, "in the face of
such facts as that which gave rise to the present conversation, of
the encyclical letters of Pius VII., Leo XII., Gregory XVI., and
many other Popes, and the well-known fact that it is impossible
to obtain in Rome itself a copy of the Scriptures, except at an
enormous price, and even then it must be read by special license.
Pardon me," he continued, still addressing the English Catholic,
"I mean nothing offensive to you; but neither I nor any other English
Protestant can consent to admit you sincerely liberal English Roman
Catholics to be in a condition to give us the requisite information
touching the maxims and principles of your Church. You have been too
long accustomed to enjoy and revere religious liberty, not to imagine
your Church sympathizes with it; you do not realize what she is abroad;
and if you be sincere in condemning such acts as that which led to
this conversation, as inconsistent with her genuine principles, why
the ominous silence of you and your co-religionists in all such cases?
Where are your protests and efforts? How is it you do not denounce
maxims and practices so rife throughout Papal Christendom, since you
say you would denounce them, if it were attempted to realize them here?
When you protest with one voice against these things as inconsistent
(so you say) with the principles of your Church, and as therefore
deeply dishonoring her,--whether your views on this point be right
or wrong,--we shall at least admit you to have a title to give us an
opinion on the subject."
"Even then, though," said the Deist, "we may think it safer to consult
the opinions, and, what is the practices, of the vast majority of
the Roman Catholic Church, and her conduct in the countries in which
she holds undisputed sway, and therefore I am anxious to hear whether
the Signor would justify imprisonment for reading the Bible."