(January, 1879.)
Professor Blackie is a man with whom we cannot be angry, however
greatly his utterances are calculated to arouse that feeling. He is
so impulsive, frank, and essentially good-natured, that even his most
provoking words call forth rather a smile of compassion than a frown of
resentment. Those who know his character and position will yield him the
widest allowance. His fiery nature prompts him to energetic speech on
all occasions. But when his temper has been fretted, as it frequently
is, by the boisterous whims of his Greek students in that most
boisterous of universities, it is not surprising if his expressions
become splenetic even to rashness. The ingenuous Professor is quite
impartial in his denunciations. He strikes out right and left against
various objects of his dislike. Everything he dissents from receives one
and the same kind of treatment, so that no opinion he assails has any
special reason to complain; and every blow he deals is accompanied
with such a jolly smile, sometimes verging into a hearty laugh, that no
opponent can well refuse to shake hands with him when all is over.
This temper, however, is somewhat inconsistent with the scientific
purpose indicated in the title of Professor Blackie's book. A zoologist
who had such a particular and unconquerable aversion to one species of
animals that the bare mention of its name made his gorge rise, would
naturally give us a very inadequate and unsatisfactory account of it.
So, in this case, instead of getting a true natural history of Atheism,
which would be of immense service to every thinker, we get only an
emphatic statement of the authors' hatred of it under different aspects.
Atheism is styled "a hollow absurdity," "that culmination of all
speculative absurdities," "a disease of the speculative faculty," "a
monstrous disease of the reasoning faculty," and so on.
The chapter on "Its Specific Varieties and General Root" is
significantly headed with that hackneyed declaration of the Psalmist,
"The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God," as though
impertinence were better from a Jew than from a Christian, or more
respectable for being three thousand years old. Perhaps Professor
Blackie has never heard of the sceptical critic who exonerated the
Psalmist on the ground that he was speaking jocosely, and really meant
that the man who said _in his heart_ only "There is no God," without
saying so _openly_, was the fool. But this interpretation is as profane
as the other is impertinent; and in fact does a great injustice to the
Atheist, who has never been accustomed to say "There is no God," an
assertion which involves the arrogance of infinite knowledge, since
nothing less than that is requisite to prove an universal negative: but
simply "I know not of such an existence," which is a modest statement
intellectually and morally, and quite unlike the presumption of certain
theologians who, as Mr. Arnold says, speak familiarly of God as though
he were a man living in the next street.
For his own sake Professor Blackie should a little curb his proneness to
the use of uncomplimentary epithets. He does himself injustice when he
condescends to describe David Hume's theory of causation as "wretched
cavil." Carlyle is more just to this great representative of an
antagonistic school of thought. He exempts him from the sweeping
condemnation of his contemporaries in Scottish prose literature, and
admits that he was "too rich a man to borrow" from France or elsewhere.
And surely Hume was no less honest than rich in thought. Jest and
captiousness were entirely foreign to his mind. Wincing under his
inexorable logic, the ontologist may try to console himself with the
thought that the great sceptic was playing with arguments like a
mere dialectician of wondrous skill; but in reality Hume was quite in
earnest, and always meant what he said. We may also observe that it is
Professor Blackie and not Darwin who suffers from the asking of such
questions as these:--"What monkey ever wrote an epic poem, or composed a
tragedy or a comedy, or even a sonnet? What monkey professed his belief
in any thirty-nine articles, or well-compacted Calvinistic confession,
or gave in his adhesion to any Church, established or disestablished?"
If Mr. Darwin heard these questions he might answer with a good humored
smile, "My dear sir, you quite mistake my theories, and your questions
travesty them. I would further observe that while the composition of
poems would unquestionably be creditable to monkeys, I, who have some
regard for them as relatives, however distant, am heartily glad they
have never done any of the other things you mention, which I deem a
negative proof that their reason, though limited, is fortunately sane."
Professor Blackie's opening chapter on "Presumptions" fully justifies
its title. The general consent of mankind in favor of Theism is assumed
to have established its validity, and to have put Atheists altogether
out of court; and a long list of illustrious Theists, from Solomon to
Hegel, is contrasted with a meagre catalogue of Atheists, comprising
only the names of David Hume, Jeremy Bentham, and John Stuart Mill. *
Confucius and Buddha are classed apart, as lying "outside of our Western
European Culture altogether," but with a promise that "in so far as they
seem to have taught a morality without religion, or a religion without
God, we shall say a word or two about them by-and-by." So far as Buddha
is concerned this promise is kept; but in relation to Confucius it is
broken. Probably the Chinese sage was found too tough and embarrassing
a subject, and so it was thought expedient to ignore him for the more
tractable prophet of India, whose doctrine of Transmigration might
with a little sophistry be made to resemble the Christian doctrine of
Immortality, and his Nirvana the Kingdom of Heaven.
* Professor Blackie is singularly silent as to James Mill,
the father of the celebrated Utilitarian philosopher, far
more robust in intellect and character than his son. He is
the dominant figure of Mill's "Autobiography," and has about
him a more august air than his son ever wore.
What does the general consent of mankind prove in regard to beliefs
like Theism? Simply nothing. Professor Blackie himself sees that on some
subjects it is worthless, particularly when special knowledge or special
faculty is required. But there are questions, he contends, which public
opinion rightly decides, even though opposed to the conclusions of
subtle thinkers. "Perhaps," he says, "we shall hit the mark here if
we say broadly that, as nature is always right, the general and normal
sentiment of the majority must always be right, in so far as it is
rooted in the universal and abiding instincts of humanity; and public
opinion, as the opinion of the majority, will be right also in all
matters which belong to the general conduct of life among all classes,
and with respect to which the mind of the majority has been allowed a
perfectly free, natural, and healthy exercise." Now, in the first place,
we must reiterate our opinion that the general consent of mankind on a
subject like Theism proves absolutely nothing. It is perfectly valid on
questions of ordinary taste and feeling, but loses all logical efficacy
in relation to questions which cannot be determined by a direct appeal
to experience. And undeniably Theism is one of those questions, unless
we admit with the transcendentalist what is contrary to evident fact,
that men have an intuitive perception of God. In the next place, the
minor premise of this argument is assumed. There is no general consent
of mankind in favor of Theism, but only a very extensive consent. Mr.
Gladstone, not long since, in the _Nineteenth Century_, went so far as
to claim the general consent of mankind in favor of Christianity, by
simply excluding all heathen nations from a right to be heard. Professor
Blackie does not go to this length, but his logical process is no
different. Lastly, our author's concluding proviso vitiates his whole
case; for if there be one question on which "the mind of the majority"
has _not_ been allowed a "perfectly free, natural, and healthy
exercise," it is that of the existence of God. We are all prepossessed
hi its favor by early training, custom, and authority. Our minds have
never been permitted to play freely upon it. A century ago Atheists
stood in danger of death; only recently have penal and invidious
statutes against them been cancelled or mitigated; and even now bigotry
against honest disbelief in Theism is so strong that a man often incurs
greater odium in publicly avowing it than in constantly violating
all the decalogue save the commandment against murder. Murderers and
thieves, though punished here, are either forgotten or compassionated
after death; but not even the grave effectually shields the Atheist from
the malignity of pious zeal. Fortunately, however, a wise and humane
tolerance is growing in the world, and extending towards the most
flagrant heresies. Perhaps we shall ultimately admit with sage old
Felltham, that "we fill the world with cruel brawls in the obstinate
defence of that whereof we might with more honor confess ourselves to
be ignorant," and that "it is no shame for man not to know that which is
not in his possibility."
The causes of Atheism are, according to Professor Blackie, very
numerous. He finds seven or eight distinct ones. The lowest class of
Atheists are "Atheists of imbecility," persons of stunted intellect,
incapable of comprehending the idea of God. These, however, he will not
waste his time with, nor will we. He then passes to the second class of
reprobates, whose Atheism springs not from defect of intellect, but from
moral disorder, and who delight to conceive the universe as resembling
their own chaos. These we shall dismiss, with a passing remark that if
moral disorder naturally induces Atheism, some very eminent Christians
have been marvellous hypocrites. Lack of reverence is the next cause
of Atheism, and is indeed its "natural soil." But as Professor Blackie
thinks this may be "congenital, like a lack of taste for music, or an
incapacity of understanding a mathematical problem," we are obliged to
consider this third class of Atheists as hopeless as the first. Having
admitted that their malady may be congenital, our author inflicts
upon these unfortunates a great deal of superfluous abuse, apparently
forgetting that they are less to blame than their omnipotent maker.
The fourth cause of Atheism is pride or self-will. But this seems very
erratic in its operations, since the only two instances cited--namely,
Napoleon the Great and Napoleon the Little, were certainly Theists.
Next comes democracy, between which and irreverence there is a natural
connexion, and from which, "as from a hotbed, Atheism in its rankest
stage naturally shoots up." Professor Blackie, as may be surmised,
tilts madly against this horrible foe. But it will not thus be subdued.
Democracy is here and daily extending itself, overwhelming slowly but
surely all impediments to its supremacy. If Theism is incompatible with
it, then the days of Theism are numbered. Professor Blackie's peculiar
Natural History of atheism is more likely to please the opposite ranks
than his own, who may naturally cry out, with a sense of being sold,
"call you that backing of your friends?"
Pride of intellect is the next cause of Atheism. Don Juan sells himself
to perdition for a liberal share of pleasure, but Faust hankers only
after forbidden knowledge. This is of various kinds; but "of all kinds,
that which has long had the most evil reputation of begetting Atheism
is Physical Science." Again does the fervid Professor set lance in rest,
and dash against this new foe to Theism, much as Don Quixote charged the
famous windmill. But science, like the windmill, is too big and strong
to suffer from such assaults. The "father of this sort of nonsense," in
modern times was David Hume, who, we are elegantly informed, was "a very
clever fellow, a very agreeable, gentlemanly fellow too." His "nonsense
about causation" is to be traced to a want of reverence in his
character. Indeed, it seems that all persons who adhere to a philosophy
alien to Professor Blackie's have something radically wrong with them.
Let this Edinburgh Professor rail as he may, David Hume's theory of
causation will suffer no harm, and his contrast of human architecture,
which is mechanism, with natural architecture, which is growth, will
still form an insuperable obstacle to that "natural theology" which,
as Garth Wilkinson says with grim humor, seeks to elicit, or rather
"construct," "a scientific abstraction answering to the concrete figure
of the Vulcan of the Greeks--that is to say a universal Smith"!
Eventually Professor Blackie gets so sick of philosophers, that he
turns from them to poets, who may more safely be trusted "in matters of
healthy human sentiment." But here fresh difficulties arise. Although
"a poet is naturally a religious animal," we find that the greatest
of Roman poets Lucretius, was an Atheist, while even "some of our most
brilliant notorieties in the modern world of song are not the most
notable for piety." But our versatile Professor easily accounts for this
by assuming that there "may be an idolatry of the imaginative, as well
as of the knowing faculty." Never did natural historian so jauntily
provide for every fact contravening his theories. Professor Blackie will
never understand Atheism, or write profitably upon it, while he pursues
this course. Let him restrain his discursive propensities, and deal
scientifically with this one fact, which explodes his whole theory of
Atheism. The supreme glory of our modern poetry is Shelley, and if
ever a man combined splendor of imagination with keen intelligence and
saintly character it was he. Raphael incarnate he seems, yet he stands
outside all the creeds, and to his prophetic vision, in the sunlight of
the world's great age begun anew, the--
Faiths and empires gleam
Like wrecks of a dissolving dream.
In his treatment of Buddhism Professor Blackie is candid and impartial,
until he comes to consider its Atheistic character. Then his reason
seems almost entirely to forsake him. After saying that "what Buddha
preached was a gospel of pure human ethics, divorced not only from
Brahma and the Brahminic Trinity, but even from the existence of God;"
and describing Buddha himself as "a rare, exceptional, and altogether
transcendental incarnation of moral perfection;" he first tries to
show that _Nirvana_ is the same as the Christian _eternal life_, and
transmigration of souls a faithful counterpart of the Christian doctrine
of future reward and punishment. Feeling, perhaps, how miserably he
has failed in this attempt, he turns with exasperation on Buddhism,
and affirms that it "can in no wise be looked upon as anything but an
abnormal manifestation of the religious life of man." We believe that
Professor Blackie himself must have already perceived the futility and
absurdity of this.
The last chapter of Professor Blackie's book is entitled "The Atheism
of Reaction." In it he strikes characteristically at the five points
of Calvinism, at Original Guilt, Eternal Punishment, Creation out
of Nothing, and Special Providence; which he charges with largely
contributing to the spread of Atheism. While welcoming these assaults
on superstition, we are constrained to observe that the Christian dogmas
which Professor Blackie impugns and denounces are not specific causes
of Atheism. Again he is on the wrong scent. The revolt against Theism at
the present time is indeed mainly moral, but the preparation for it
has been an intellectual one. Modern Science has demonstrated, for all
practical purposes, the inexorable reign of law. The God of miracles,
answering prayer and intimately related to his children of men, is an
idea exploded and henceforth impossible. The only idea of God at all
possible, is that of a supreme universal intelligence, governing nature
by fixed laws, and apparently quite heedless whether their operation
brings us joy or pain. This idea is intellectually permissible, but it
is beyond all proof, and can be entertained only as a speculation. Now,
the development of knowledge which makes this the only permissible
idea of God, also changes Immortality from a religious certitude to an
unverifiable supposition. The rectification of the evils of this life
cannot, therefore, be reasonably expected in another; so that man
stands alone, fighting a terrible battle, with no aid save from his own
strength and skill. To believe that Omnipotence is the passive spectator
of this fearful strife, is for many minds altogether too hard. They
prefer to believe that the woes and pangs of sentient life were not
designed; that madness, anguish, and despair, result from the interplay
of unconscious forces. They thus set Theism aside, and unable to
recognise the fatherhood of God, they cling more closely to the
brotherhood of Man.