Superstition Unveiled by Charles Southwell
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Charles Southwell >> Superstition Unveiled
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The writer who declared theology _ignorance of natural causes reduced to
system_, did not strike wide of the true mark. It is plain that the
argument from design, so vastly favoured by theologians, amounts to
neither more nor less than ignorance of natural causes reduced to
system. An argument to be sound must be soundly premised. But here is an
argument whose primary premise is a false premise--a mere begging of the
very question in dispute. Did Universalists _admit_ the universe was
contrived, designed, or adapted, they could not _deny_ there must have
been at least one Being to contrive, design, or adapt; but they see no
analogy between a watch made with hands out of something, and a universe
made without hands out of nothing. Universalists are unable to perceive
the least resemblance between the circumstance of one intelligent body
re-forming or changing the condition of some other body, intelligent or
non-intelligent, and the circumstance of a bodiless Being creating all
bodies; of a partless Being acting upon all parts; and of a passionless
Being generating and regulating all passions. Universalists consider the
general course of nature, though strangely unheeded, does proclaim with
'most miraculous organ,' that dogmatisers about any such 'figment of
imagination' would, in a rational community, be viewed with the same
feelings of compassion, which, even in these irrational days, are
exhibited towards confirmed lunatics.
The author, while passing an evening with some pleasant people in
Ashton-under-Lyne, heard one of them relate that before the schoolmaster
had made much progress in that _devil-dusted_ neighbourhood, a labouring
man walking out one fine night, saw on the ground a watch, whose ticking
was distinctly audible; but never before having seen anything of the
kind, he thought it a living creature, and full of fear ran back among
his neighbours, exclaiming that he had seen a most marvellous thing, for
which he could conceive of no better name than CLICKMITOAD. After
recovering from their surprise and terror, this 'bold peasant' and his
neighbours, all armed with pokers and other formidable weapons, crept up
to the ill-starred ticker, and smashed it to pieces.
The moral of this anecdote is no mystery. Our clickmitoadist had never
seen watches, knew nothing about watches, and hearing as well as seeing
one for the first time, naturally judged it must be an animal. Readers
who may feel inclined to laugh at his simplicity, should ask themselves
whether, if accustomed to see watches growing upon watch trees, they
would feel more astonished than they usually do when observing crystals
in process of formation, or cocoa-nuts growing upon cocoa-nut trees; and
if as inexperienced with respect to watches, or works of art, more or
less analogous to watches, they would not under his circumstances have
acted very much as he did.
Supposing, however, that theologians were to succeed in establishing an
analogy between 'the contrivances of human art and the various
existences of the universe,' is it not evident that Spinoza's axiom--of
things which having nothing in common one cannot be the cause of the
others--is incompatible with belief in the Deity of our Thirty-Nine
Articles, or, indeed, belief in _any_ unnatural Designer or Causer of
Material Nature. Only existence can have anything in common with
existence.
Now, an existence, properly so called, must have at least two
attributes, and whatever exhibits two or more attributes is matter. The
two attributes necessary to existence are solidity and extension. Take
from matter these attributes and matter itself vanishes. That fact was
specially testified to by Priestley, who acknowledged the primary truths
of Materialism though averse to the legitimate consequences flowing from
their recognition.
According to this argument, nothing exists which has not solidity and
extension, and nothing is extended and solid but matter, which in one
state forms a crystal, in another a blade of grass, in a third a
butterfly, and in other states other forms. The _essence_ of grass, or
the _essence_ of crystal, in other words, those native energies of their
several forms constituting and keeping them what they are, can no more
be explained than can the _essentiality_ of _human_ nature.
But the Universalist, because he finds it impossible to explain the
action of matter, because unable to state why it exhibits such vast and
various energies as it is seen to exhibit, is none the less assured it
_naturally_ and therefore _necessarily_ acts thus energetically. No
Universalist pretends to understand how bread nourishes his frame, but
of the _fact_ that bread does nourish it he is well assured. He
understands not how or why two beings should, by conjunction, give
vitality to a third being more or less analogous to themselves, but the
_fact_ stares him in the face.
Our 'sophists in surplices,' who can no otherwise bolster up their
supernatural system than by outraging all such rules of philosophising
as forbid us to choose the greater of two difficulties, or to multiply
causes without necessity, are precisely the men to explain everything.
But unfortunately their explanations do, for the most part, stand more
in need of explanation than the thing explained. Thus, they explain the
origin of matter by reference to an occult, immense, and immensely
mysterious phantasm without body, parts or passions, who sees though not
to be seen, hears though not to be heard, feels though not to be felt,
moves though not to be moved, knows though not to be known, and, in
short, does everything, though not to be _done_ by anything. Well might
Godwin say _the rage of accounting for what is obviously unaccountable,
so common among philosophers of this stamp, has brought philosophy
itself into discredit_.
There is an argument against the notion of a Supernatural Causer which
the author does not remember to have met with, but which he considers an
argument of great force--it is this. Cause means change, and as there
manifestly could not be change before there was anything to change, to
conceive the universe caused is impossible.
That the sense here attached to the word cause is not a novel one every
reader knows who has seen an elaborate and ably written article by Mr.
G.H. Lewes, on 'Spinoza's Life and Works,' where effect is defined as
cause realised; the _natura naturans_ conceived as _natura naturata_;
and cause or causation is define as simply change. When, says Mr. Lewes,
the change is completed, we name the result effect. It is only a matter
of naming.
These definitions conceded accurate, the conclusion that neither cause
nor effect _exist_, seems inevitable, for change of being is not being
itself any more than attraction is the thing attracted. One might as
philosophically erect attraction into reality and fall down and worship
_it_ as change which is in very truth a mere "matter of naming." Not so
the things changing or changed; _they_ are real, the prolific parent of
all appearance we behold, of all sensation we experience, of all ideas
we receive, in short, of all causes and of all effects, which causes and
effects, as shown by Mr. Lewis, are merely notional, for "we call the
antecedent cause, and the sequent effect; but these are merely relative
conceptions; the sequence itself is antecedent to some subsequent
change, and the former antecedent was once only a sequent to its cause,
and so on."
Ancient Simonides, when asked by Dionysius to explain the nature of
Deity, demanded a day to "see about it," then an additional two days,
and then four days more, thus wisely intimating to his silly pupil, that
the more men think about Gods, the less competent they are to give any
rational account of them.
Cicero was sensible and candid enough to acknowledge that he found it
much easier to say what God was not, than what he was. Like Simonides,
he was _mere_ Pagan, and like him, arguing from the known course of
nature, was unable, with all his mastery of talk, to convey positive
ideas of Deity. But how should he convey to others what he did not,
could not, himself possess? To him no revolution had been vouchsafed,
and though my Lord Brougham is quite sure, without the proof of natural
Theology, revelation has no other basis than mere tradition; we have
even better authority than his Lordship's for the staggering fact that
natural Theology, without the prop of revelation, is a 'rhapsody of
words,' mere jargon, analogous to the tale told by an idiot, so happily
described by our great poet as 'full of sound and fury, signifying
nothing.' We have a Rev. Hugh M'Neil 'convinced that, from external
creation, no right conclusion can be drawn concerning the _moral_
character of God,' and that 'creation is too deeply and disastrously
blotted in consequence of man's sin, to admit of any satisfactory result
from an adequate contemplation of nature.' [42:1] We have a Gillespie
setting aside the Design Argument, on the ground that the reasonings by
which it is supported are 'inapt' to show such attributes as infinity,
omnipresence, free agency, omnipotency, eternality, or unity,' belong in
any way to God. On this latter attribute he specially enlarges, and
after allowing the contrivances we observe in nature, may establish a
unity of _counsel_, desires to be told how they can establish a unity of
_substance_. [42:2] We have Dr. Chalmors and Bishop Watson, whose
capacities were not the meanest, contending that there is no natural
proof of a God, and that we must trust solely to revelation. [42:3] We
have the Rev. Mr. Faber in his 'Difficulties of Infidelity' boldly
affirming that no one ever did, or ever will 'prove without the aid of
revelation, that the universe was designed by a _single_ designer.'
Obviously, then, there is a division in the religious camp with respect
to the sufficiency of natural Theology, unhelped by revelation. By three
of the four Christian authors just quoted, the design argument is
treated with contempt. Faber says, 'evident design must needs imply a
designer,' and that 'evident design shines out in every part of the
universe.' But he also tells us 'we reason exclusively, if with the
Deist we thence infer the existence of one and only one Supreme
Designer.' By Gillespie and M'Neil, the same truth is told in other
words. By Chalmers and Watson we are assured that, natural proof of a
God there is none, and our trust must be placed solely in revelation;
while Brougham, another Immense Being worshipper, declares that
revelation derives its chief support from natural Theology, without
which it has 'no other basis than vague tradition.'
Now, Universalists agree with Lord Brougham as to the traditionary basis
of Scripture; and as they also agree with Chalmers and Watson with
respect to there being no natural proof of a God, they stand acquitted
to their own consciences of 'wilful deafness' and 'obstinate blindness,'
in rejecting as inadequate the evidence that 'God is,' drawn either from
Nature, Revelation, or both.
It was long a Protestant custom to taunt Roman Catholics with being
divided among themselves as regards topics vitally important, and to
draw from the fact of such division an argument for making Scripture the
only 'rule of faith and manners.' Chillingworth said, _there are Popes
against Popes, councils against councils, some fathers against others,
the same fathers against themselves--a consent of fathers of one age
against a consent of fathers of another age, the church of one age
against the church of another age. Traditive interpretations of
Scripture are pretended, but there are few or none to be found. No
tradition but only of Scripture can derive itself from the fountain, but
may be plainly proved, either to have been brought in in such an age
after Christ, or that in such an age it was not in. In a word, there is
no sufficient certainty but of Scripture only for any considering man to
build on_. [43:1] And after reading this should 'any considering man'
be anxious to know something about the Scripture on which alone he is to
build, he cannot do better than dip into Dr. Watt's book on the right
use of Reason, where we are told _every learned (Scripture) critic has
his own hypothesis, and if the common text be not favourable to his
views a various lection shall be made authentic. The text must be
supposed to be defective or redundant, and the sense of it shall be
literal or metaphorical according as it best supports his own scheme.
Whole chapters or books shall be added or left out of the sacred canon,
or be turned into parables by this influence. Luther knew not well how
to reconcile the epistle of St. James to the doctrine of justification
by faith alone, and so he could not allow it to be divine. The Papists
bring all their Apocrypha into their Bible, and stamp divinity upon it,
for they can fancy purgatory is there, and they find prayers for the
dead. But they leave out the second commandment because it forbids the
worship of images. Others suppose the Mosaic history of the creation,
and the full of man, to be oriental ornaments, or a mere allegory,
because the literal sense of those three chapters of Genesis do not
agree with their theories._
These remarks are certainly not calculated to make 'considering men' put
their trust in Scripture. Coming from a Protestant Divine of such high
talent and learning, they may rather be expected to breed in
'considering men' very unorthodox opinions as well of the authenticity
as the genuineness of _both_ Testaments, and a strong suspicion that
Chillingworth was joking when he talked about their "sufficient
certainty." The author has searched Scripture in vain for 'sufficient
certainty,' with respect to the long catalogue of religious beliefs
which agitate and distract society. Laying claim to the character of a
'considering man,' he requires that Scripture to be proved the word of a
God before appealed to, as His Revelation; a feat no man has yet
accomplished. Priests, the cleverest, most industrious, and least
scrupulous, have tried their hands at the pious work, but all have
failed. Notwithstanding the mighty labours of our Lardner's and
Tillemont's and Mosheim's, no case is made out for the divinity of
either the Old or New Testament. 'Infidels' have shown the monstrous
absurdity of supposing that any one book has an atom more divinity about
it than any other book. These 'brutes' have completely succeeded in
proving that Christianity is a superstition no less absurd than
Mohammedanism, and to the full as mischievous.
Christian practice is after all, the best answer to Christian theory.
Men who think wisely, do not, it is true, always act wisely; but
generally speaking, the moral, like the physical tree, is known by its
fruit, and bitter, most bitter, is the fruit of that moral tree, the
followers of Jesus planted. Notwithstanding their talk about the pure
and benign influence of their religion, an opinion is fast gaining
ground, that Bishop Kidder was right, when he said, _were a wise man to
judge of religion by the lives of its professors, perhaps, Christianity
is the last he would choose_.
He who agrees with Milton that
To know what every day before us lies
Is the prime wisdom,
will in all likelihood not object to cast his eyes around and about him,
where proofs of modern priestly selfishness are in wonderful abundance.
By way of example may be cited the cases of those right reverend Fathers
in God the Bishops of London and Chester, prelates high in the church;
disposers of enormous wealth with influence almost incalculable; the
former more especially. And how stand they affected towards the poor? By
reference to the _Times_ newspaper of September 27th, 1845, it will be
seen that those very influential and wealthy Bishops are supporters _en
chef_ of a Reformed Poor Law,' the virtual principle of which is 'to
reduce the condition of those whose necessities oblige them to apply for
relief, below that of the labourer of the _lowest class_.' A Reformed
Poor Law, having for its 'object,' yes reader, its object, the
restoration of the pauper to a position below that of the independent
labourer.' This is their 'standard' of reference, by rigid attention to
which they hope to fully carry out their 'vital principle,' and thus
bring to a satisfactory conclusion the great work of placing 'the pauper
in a worse condition than the 'independent labourer.' It appears, from
the same journal, that in reply to complaints against their dietary, the
Commissioners appointed to work the Reformed Poor Law, consider that
twenty-one ounces of food daily 'is more than the hard working labourer
with a family could accomplish for himself by his own exertions.' This,
observes a writer in the _Times_, being the Commissioners' reading of
their own 'standard,' it may be considered superfluous to refer to any
other authority; but, as the Royal Agricultural Society of England have
clubbed their general information on this subject in a compilation from
a selection of essays submitted to them, we are bound to refer to such
witnesses who give the most precise information on the actual condition
of the _independent labourer_, with minute instructions for his general
guidance, and the economical expenditure of his income. 'He should,'
they say, 'toil early and late' to make himself 'perfect' in his
calling. 'He should _pinch and screw_ the family, even in the _commonest
necessaries_,' until he gets 'a week's wages to the fore.' He should
drink in his work 'water mixed with some powdered ginger,' which warms
the stomach, and is 'extremely cheap.' He should remember that 'from
three to four pounds of potatoes are equal in point of nourishment to a
pound of the best wheaten bread, besides having the great advantage of
_filling_ the stomach. He is told that 'a lot of bones may always be got
from the butchers for 2d., and they are never scraped so clean as not to
have some scraps of meat adhering to them.' He is instructed to boil
these two penny worth of bones, for the first day's family dinner, until
the liquor 'tastes something like broth.' For the _second_ day, the
bones are to be again boiled in the same manner, but for a _longer_
time. Nor is this all, they say 'that the bones, if again boiled for a
_still longer_ time, will _once more_ yield a nourishing broth, which
may be made into pea soup.'
This is the system and this is the schoolmastership expressly sanctioned
by the Bishops of London and Chester. In piety nevertheless those
prelates are not found wanting. They may starve the bodies but no one
can charge them with neglecting the souls of our 'independent
labourers.' Nothing can exceed their anxiety to feed and clothe the
spiritually destitute. They raise their mitred fronts, even in palaces,
to proclaim and lament over the spiritual destitution which so
extensively prevails--but they seldom condescend to notice _physical_
destitution. When the cry of famine rings throughout the land they
coolly recommend rapid church extension, thus literally offering stones
to those who ask them for bread. To got the substantial and give the
spiritual is their practical Christianity. To spiritualise the poor into
contentment with the 'nourishing broth' from thrice boiled bones, and to
die of hunger rather than demand relief, are their darling objects.
Did Universalists thus act, did they perpetrate, connive at, or tolerate
such atrocities as were brought to light during the Andover inquiry,
such cold blooded heartlessness would at once be laid to the account of
their principles. Oh yes, Christians are forward to judge of every tree
by its fruit, except the tree called Christianity.
The vices of the universalist they ascribe to his creed. The vices of
the Christian to anything but his creed. Let professors of Christianity
be convicted of gross criminality, and lo its apologists say such
professors are not Christian. Let fanatical Christians commit excesses
which admit not of open justification, and the apologist of Christianity
coolly assures us such conduct is _mere rust on the body of his
religion--moss which grows on the stock of his piety._
From age to age the wisest among men have abhorred and denounced
superstition. It is true that only a small section of them treated
religion as if _necessarily_ superstition, or went quite as far as John
Adams, who said, _this would be the best of all possible worlds if there
were no religion in it_. But an attentive reading of ancient and modern
philosophical books has satisfied the author that through all recorded
time, religion has been _tolerated_ rather than _loved_ by great
thinkers, who had _will_, but not _power_ to wage successful war upon
it. Gibbon speaks of Pagan priests who, 'under sacerdotal robes,
concealed the heart of an Atheist.' Now, these priests were also the
philosophers of Rome, and it is not impossible that some modern
philosophical priests, like their Pagan prototypes, secretly despise the
religion they openly profess. Avarice, and lust of power, are potent
underminers of human virtue. The mighty genius of Bacon was not proof
against then, and he who deserves to occupy a place among 'the wisest
and greatest' has been 'damned to eternal fame' as the 'meanest of
mankind.'
Nor are avarice and lust of power the only base passions under the
influence of which men, great in intellect, have given the lie to their
own convictions, by calling that religion which they knew to be rank
superstition. Fear of punishment for writing truth is the grand cause
why their books contain so little of it. If Bacon had openly treated
Christianity as mere superstition, will any one say that his life would
have been worth twenty-four hours' purchase?
There is an old story about a certain lady who said to her physician,
'Doctor, what is your religion?' My religion, madame, replied the
Doctor, 'is the religion of all sensible men.' 'What kind of religion is
that?' said the lady. 'The religion, madame,' quoth the Doctor, 'that no
sensible man will tell.'
This doctor may be given as a type of the class of shrewd people who
despise superstition, but will say nothing about it, lest by so doing
they give a shock to prejudice, and thus put in peril certain
professional or other emoluments. Too sensible to be pious, and too
cautious to be honest, they must be extremely well paid ere they will
incur the risk attendant upon a confession of anti-superstitious faith.
Animated by a vile spirit of accommodation, their whole sum of practical
wisdom can be told in four words--BE SILENT AND SAFE. They are amazed at
the 'folly' of these who make sacrifices at the shrine of sincerity; and
while sagacious enough to perceive that superstition is a clumsy
political contrivance, are not wanting in the prudence which dictates at
least a _seeming_ conformity to prevailing prejudices.
None have done more to perpetrate error than these time-serving 'men of
the world,' for instead of boldly attacking it, they preserve a prudent
silence which bigots do not fail to interpret as consent. Mosheim says,
[47:1] 'The simplicity and ignorance of the generality in those times
(fifth century) furnished the most favourable occasion for the exercise
of fraud; and the impudence of impostors, in contriving false miracles,
was artfully proportioned to the credulity of the vulgar, while the
sagacious and the wise, who perceived these cheats, were overawed into
silence by the dangers that threatened their lives and fortunes, if they
should expose the artifice. Thus,' continues this author, 'does it
generally happen, when danger attends the discovery and the profession
of truth, the prudent are _silent_, the multitude _believe_, and
impostors _triumph_.'
Beausobre, too, in his learned account of Manicheism reads a severe
lesson to those who, under the influence of such passions as _fear_ and
_avarice_, will do nothing to check the march of superstition, or
relieve their less 'sensible,' but more honest, fellow-creatures from
the weight of its fetters. After alluding to an epistle written by that
'demi-philosopher,' Synesius, when offered by the Patriarch the
Bishopric of Ptolemais, [48:1] Beausobre says, 'We see in the history
that I have related a kind of hypocrisy, which, perhaps, has been far
too common in all times. It is that of ecclesiastics, who not only do
not say what they think, but the reverse of what they think.
Philosophers in their closet, when out of them they are content with
fables, though they know well they are fables. They do more; they
deliver to the executioner the excellent men who have said it. How many
Atheists and profane persons have brought holy men to the stake under
the pretext of heresy? Every day, hypocrites consecrate the host and
cause it to be adored, although firmly convinced as I am that it is
nothing more than a piece of bread.'
Whatever may be urged in defence of such execrable duplicity, there can
be no question as to its anti-progressive tendency. The majority of men
are fools, and if such 'sensible' politicians as our Doctor and the
double doctrinising ecclesiastics, for whose portraits we are indebted
to Mosheim and Beausobre, shall have the teaching of them, fools they
are sure to remain. Men who dare not be 'mentally faithful' to
themselves may obstruct, but cannot advance, the interests of truth. In
legislation, in law, in all the relations of life, we want honesty _not_
piety. There is plenty of piety, and to spare, but of honesty--sterling,
bold, uncompromising honesty--even the best regulated societies can
boast a very small stock. The men best qualified to raise the veil under
which truth lies concealed from vulgar gaze, are precisely the men who
fear to do it. Oh, shame upon ye self-styled philosophers, who in your
closets laugh at 'our holy religion,' and in your churches do it
reverence. Were your bosoms warmed by one spark of generous wisdom,
_silence_ on the question of religion would be broken, the multitude
cease to _believe_, and imposters to _triumph_.
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