--It is nowhere declared in Scripture that Providence excludes the aid of Science, or that Prayer supersedes the diligent use of ordinary means. On the contrary it is written, "When wisdom entereth into thine heart, and knowledge is pleasant unto thy soul, discretion shall preserve thee, understanding shall keep thee;" and believers are required to be "not slothful in business," while they are "fervent in spirit, serving the Lord."[300]

On all these points, so clearly involved in the Christian doctrine of Providence and Prayer, Mr. Holyoake's argument rests on a.s.sumptions which are utterly groundless, and hence he imagines that the doctrine is contradicted by experience, when a more scriptural view of it would be sufficient to obviate all his objections. He reasons as if there could be no truth in the doctrine of a special Providence, and no efficacy in Prayer, unless _every_ pet.i.tion were immediately heard and answered; unless the cry of nature in distress were sufficient to ward off the stroke of disease and bereavement, and to avert all the calamities of life; unless the operation of the general laws of Nature were forthwith suspended; unless the present state of trial and discipline were converted into one of strict and impartial retribution; and unless man's wisdom and man's agency were to be superseded altogether by dependence on a higher power. But not one of these suppositions has any place in the doctrine of Scripture on the subject. It speaks of a special Providence, but not such as is incompatible with the constant operation of natural laws; it ascribes a certain efficacy to Prayer, but not such as implies a miraculous interference with the ordinary course of Nature, and still less an exemption from affliction, or an equal distribution of good and evil in the present life. If it be said that such being the doctrine of Scripture, it can afford little or no consolation, since it holds out no hope of sure and instant relief in circ.u.mstances of distress and danger, may we not ask, Is there no comfort in knowing that our affairs are under the superintendence of a Being everywhere present, infinitely wise and good, whose ear is ever open to our cry, who is able to do for us exceeding abundantly above all that we can ask, and who has promised to sustain us in all our trials, to sanctify us by means of them, and to make all things work together for our good? Is there no comfort in being able to say, "G.o.d is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble, therefore will not we fear though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea."

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me." "The Lord shall deliver me from every evil work, and will preserve me unto His heavenly kingdom"?[301] Is there not enough for all the purposes of practical religion in the a.s.surance, "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; ... for if ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask Him?" "Your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. Seek ye first the kingdom of G.o.d, and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you"?[302] And when the believer is enabled in any measure to comply with the injunctions of Scripture,--"Cast thy burden on the Lord, and He will sustain it," "Commit thy way unto Him, and He will bring it to pa.s.s," "Be careful for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto G.o.d, and the peace of G.o.d, which pa.s.seth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus,"--does he not know experimentally that it is faith in a living, personal G.o.d,--the G.o.d of providence, and the Hearer of prayer, and not the desolate doctrine of Nature,--"the _G.o.d of the iron foot_, stern as fate, absolute as tyranny, and merciless as death,"--that can sustain him under every trial, and nerve him with fresh vigor for the "battle of life"?

Mr. Holyoake refers to his own experience, and appeals to the experience of his fellow-men, in confirmation of his _negative_ conclusion in regard to a special Providence and the efficacy of Prayer. But what weight is due to his testimony in such a case? Is it sufficient to countervail the experience of all in every age--"the great cloud of witnesses"--who have unanimously declared that "the Lord hath not forsaken them that seek Him," and that "He hath not said to the seed of Jacob, Seek ye my face in vain"? Which is ent.i.tled to the greater weight, the testimony of Mr. Holyoake, or that of the Psalmist, "I waited patiently for the Lord, and He inclined unto me, and heard my cry;" or that of the prophet, "I cried by reason of mine affliction unto the Lord, and He heard me: out of the belly of h.e.l.l cried I, and thou heardest my voice: When my soul fainted within me I remembered the Lord, and my prayer came in unto Thee into thine holy temple;" or that of the apostle, "For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me; and He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness"?[303] A cry for help may not be "the prayer of faith," but the utterance of an unsubdued and rebellious will, and can afford no test, therefore, of the truth of the doctrine of Scripture.

But "Science," says Mr. Holyoake, "is the providence of life, and spiritual dependence may be attended with material destruction." He would subst.i.tute, therefore, the Science of man for the Providence of G.o.d, and secular _diligence_ for spiritual _dependence_. But is there no room for both? Are they necessarily incompatible or mutually exclusive?

Why should the Science of man be opposed to the Providence of G.o.d, or secular industry to religious faith? All Christians combine the two; why should Mr. Holyoake seek to divorce them? What is Science? It is "the well-devised method of using Nature; it is in this that Science is the providence of man. It is not pretended that Science is a perfect dependence; on the contrary, it is admitted to be narrow and but partially developed; but it is the only special dependence that man has."[304] And is the _wise use of Nature_ inconsistent with Religion?

is it the exclusive monopoly of Atheism? Or is spiritual dependence necessarily incompatible with industrial pursuits? Who have been the most scientific and the most industrious members of the community, the small band of Atheists, or the great body of Christians? To the latter belong all the advantages which Science, or the wise use of Nature, can secure, while they have _besides_ a Providence, distinct from Nature and superior to it, whose wakeful eye never slumbers, and whose ear is ever open to their cry.

5. Secularism seeks to supersede Religion, and to subst.i.tute _morality_ in its stead,--but a _morality_ which leaves men irresponsible for their belief, their pa.s.sions, and even their actions, to any superior Power.

"The histories of all ages," says Mr. Holyoake, "and the bitter experience of mankind, prove the pernicious influence of piety. It seems a more useful work cannot be performed than to sweep away the a.s.sumed foundations of all religions." "I deem it inimical to human welfare, and should no more proceed to supply a new religion than the people who had just interred the cholera would think of raising a plague.... Religion is a distraction of social progress; once removed, no wise man will desire its restoration."

"But one question remains to be answered, If Religion is not our proper business, what is? I answer, _Morality_!... By Religion I understand a system of human duties, commencing from a G.o.d: by Morality a system of human duties, commencing from man. Religion asks but one question, Is an act pleasing to Deity? Morality makes the wiser inquiry, Is an act useful to man? The standard of religion varies with fickle creeds; the standard of morality is _utility_."[305] "There exist (independently of Scriptural Religion) guarantees of morality in human nature, in intelligence, and utility." "Morality, that system of human duties commencing from man, we will keep distinct from Religion, that system of human duties a.s.sumed to commence from G.o.d."[306] "Nature refers us to science for help, and to humanity for sympathy; love to the lovely is our only homage, study our only praise, quiet submission to the inevitable our _duty_, and work is our only worship."[307] "We, by establishing morals independently of scriptural authority, and basing them on secular considerations,--more immediate, more demonstrative and universal,--attain a signal benefit; for when Inspiration is shaken, or Miracles fail you, or Prophecy eludes the believer, he breaks away, and probably falls into vice; while we hold the thinker by the thousand relations of Natural Affection, Utility, and Intelligence, which the Christian distrusts.... A man may do good because it is honest, because it is useful, because it is commanded by human law, because it is humane, because it is polite, because it is a n.o.ble pleasure."[308] Of course, when Morality is thus divorced from Religion there can be no responsibility to a higher Power, and man is not accountable to any one for his belief, his pa.s.sions, his will, his character or conduct, except in so far as his _actions_ may trench on the rights of others, and render him amenable to civil or criminal law. And Mr. Holyoake, at one time an a.s.sociate and fellow-laborer of Robert Owen, still cleaves to the doctrine that his belief is entirely dependent on evidence, and that his character is, to a large extent, determined by the circ.u.mstances of his condition.

An attempt is thus made to establish the Ethics of Atheism on the ruins of Religion. But to one who calmly reflects on the subject, it must be evident that a scheme of morals founded on the negation of all religious belief can have none of that authority which belongs to the expression of a superior will, and must be utterly dest.i.tute of all sanctions excepting such as may be found in the _natural_ consequences of our conduct. Its only standard is _utility_; and _utility_ must be interpreted by every man for himself, according to his own taste and inclination. The word _duty_ is used, but there is nothing in the system to account for the _idea_ which that word is intended to convey, nothing to explain or justify the meaning of the phrase, _I ought_. For why _ought_ I to do this, or refrain from that? Because it is _useful_?

because it is conducive to _happiness_? Because it will be followed by certain natural consequences? But if I love the pleasures of sin, if I prefer them to every other kind of enjoyment, if I am willing to accept the consequences and to say, "Evil, be thou my good," what is there in the system of secular ethics that should oblige me to forego my favorite indulgences, or that can impress me with the conviction that I _ought_ to do so? True I may suffer, and suffer much, as the drunkard and the libertine do, in the way of natural consequence, and it may be prudent to be temperate in the indulgence of my sensual appet.i.tes; there may even be a sense of inward degradation, and a politic regard to the opinions of my fellow-men, which will operate to some extent as a restraining influence; but if I be dest.i.tute of a sense of _duty_, and willing to brave all hazards and accept all consequences, Secularism has nothing to say to me, and is utterly powerless to govern or control me otherwise than by physical coercion or the power of brute force. But admit the idea of G.o.d as a Moral Governor, and of Conscience as His vicegerent in my soul, view the law of my moral nature as the authoritative expression of His supreme will, and instantly I recognize a Master whom I _ought_ to obey, and a course of conduct which it is my _duty_ to pursue, irrespective alike of my personal propensities and of all possible consequences. The "categoric imperative" within is felt to be a far more solid ground, as well as a much stronger sanction, of duty, than any that can be found in the mere consequences of my actions; while it accounts for the innate sense of right and wrong, and the sentiments of remorse, and shame, and fear which conscious guilt inspires.

But Mr. Holyoake shifts the question from this broad general ground, which is common to all earnest inquirers after truth, and seeks to entangle us in a collateral, but subordinate, discussion respecting the relation between Morality and Scripture. He proposes to show that "there exist, _independently of Scriptural Religion_, guarantees of morality in human nature," and that "morals may be established _independently of scriptural authority_." But this is not the question: the question is a wider and more comprehensive one, namely, whether a system of morals can be established apart from the recognition of G.o.d, and independently of _any_ expression, natural or supernatural, of His supreme and authoritative will? Mr. Holyoake is bound to return and defend an affirmative to _this_ question, and is not at liberty to take refuge in the mere denial of the absolute dependence of morals on "scriptural authority." The idea of _duty_ may be involved in the principles of Natural Religion, and these may be presupposed and a.s.sumed in Revelation; but to make out his case, he must attempt to show that neither Natural nor Revealed Religion is necessary to establish and sanction a code of ethics, and that the natural consequences of our actions are sufficient _of themselves_, and without reference to the law of a Supreme Will, to awaken and sustain a sense of moral obligation. In point of fact, Christianity does not represent the duties of morality as dependent on its own _sole_ authority. It sanctions these duties, it ill.u.s.trates their nature, it enforces their observance by new and powerful motives; but it presupposes the existence of Conscience, as G.o.d's vicegerent in the heart, and appeals to "a law" by which every man is "a law to himself." The _law revealed_ in Scripture is binding by reason of the authority of the Lawgiver; but not more binding than the law written on the heart, without which we should be incapable alike of moral instruction and of moral government. The question, then, is not whether morality be entirely dependent on the authority of Scripture, but whether it be so independent of Religion as to be equally authoritative and binding with or without the recognition of G.o.d?

And if this be the real question at issue, few will be bold enough to affirm either that the nature of moral duty is in no wise affected, or that its foundation is in no degree weakened, by the non-recognition of G.o.d and His supreme will. The will of G.o.d may not be the ultimate ground of duty, but it is the expression of the essential holiness of His nature, which is the unchangeable standard of rect.i.tude. The supposition of His non-existence, therefore, or even the skeptical Atheism which doubts, without venturing to deny, the reality of His being, deprives morality of its only absolute support, and leaves it to depend on the fluctuating opinions or the capricious tastes of individual minds. It affects both the _nature_ and the _extent_ of moral duty, by resolving it into a mere regard to utility, and excluding a large cla.s.s of duties which Religion sanctions, while it deprives every other cla.s.s of their sacred character as acts of obedience to G.o.d. It shuts out some of the most powerful and impressive motives to virtuous conduct, by relieving men from a sense of responsibility to a higher Power, by excluding the idea of a future retribution, and still more by keeping out of sight the attributes, alike august and amiable, of a living personal G.o.d, everywhere present, beholding the evil and the good, an omniscient Witness and an impartial Judge. Christianity leaves all the _secular_ motives to morality intact and entire, and only superadds to these certain _spiritual_ motives of far higher power. It neither supersedes the lessons of experience nor abjures all regard to utility; but by revealing our relation to G.o.d, it extends, and elevates, and purifies our sense of duty. In vain does Mr. Holyoake pretend that by basing morals on secular considerations, he attains a signal benefit, and that he "holds the thinker by the thousand relations of Natural Affection, Utility, and Intelligence, _which the Christian distrusts_;" for not one of these "relations" is excluded by the scheme of Revealed Religion, not one of them is _denied_ by the Christian; and if he may be said to _distrust_ them, it is only because he holds them to be _insufficient_, without a belief in G.o.d, to maintain a pure morality in the world. But he can say, with at least as much earnestness as any Secularism can feel, "Whatsoever things are _true_, whatsoever things are _honest_, whatsoever things are _just_, whatsoever things are _pure_, whatsoever things are _lovely_, whatsoever things are of _good report_; if there be _any_ virtue, and if there be _any_ praise, think of these things;" and he feels that far from weakening, he greatly enhances, the force of that appeal, when he adds, "and perfect holiness _in the fear of the Lord_."

6. Secularism professes to be "the positive side of Atheism," and to be better than Religion at least for this world, because it pays a preeminent, if not an exclusive, regard to the _duties of the present life_.

This is, perhaps, the most dangerous aspect of the doctrine. It prescribes a course of systematic unG.o.dliness, a practical disregard of the future, and an engrossing attention to things seen and temporal, as if these were virtues in which mankind are greatly deficient, and as if their general prevalence would be a prelude to a secular millennium, or the commencement of an atheistic paradise. But the purely _negative_ part of the system, however accordant with the natural tendencies of men, is felt to be in itself somewhat unattractive; it must be a.s.sociated, therefore, with some _positive_ element, some _practical aims_, such as may give it a hold on the interest and a claim on the zealous support of its adherents. "Under this conviction," says Mr.

Holyoake, "the Secularist applied himself to the reinspection of the general field of controversy, and the adoption of the following rules, among others, has been the consequence: 1. To disuse the term _Atheist_, since the public understand by that word one who is without G.o.d and also without morality, and who wishes to be without both. 2. To disuse the term _Infidel_, since Christians understand by that term one who is unfaithful or treacherous to the truth.... 3. To recognize, not as a matter of policy merely, but as a matter of fact, the sincerity of the clergy and the good intentions of Christians generally.... 4. To seek the maxims of duty in the relations of man to society and nature, and, as the _Christian Spectator_ did us the honor to admit, 'to preach nature and science, morality and art: nature, the only subject of knowledge; science, the providence of life; morality, the harmony of action; art, the culture of the individual and of society.'" "We therefore resolved to choose a new name (Secularism), which should express the _practical and moral_ element always concealed in the word Atheism.... Secularism seeks the personal Law of duty, the Sphere of duty, and the Power by which duty may work independently. The Law is found in natural, utilitarian, and artistic morals. The Sphere is this, to work with our first energies in this life, for this life,--for its growth, culture, development, and progress. The Power is discovered in Science, the providence of life, and intelligence."[309] "By 'Secularism' is meant giving the precedence to the duties of this life over those which pertain to another life;--attention to temporal things should take precedence of considerations relating to a future existence." "The _positive_ side of our views is a more recent development of our own." "We seek the cooperation of all who can agree to promote present human improvement by present human means."[310] ...

"If there are other worlds to be inhabited after this life, those persons will best be fitted for the enjoyment of them who have made the welfare of humanity their business in this. But if there are not other worlds, men are essentially losers by neglecting the enjoyment of this.

Hence Aristippus was truly wise, who agreed with Socrates in dismissing, as wholly unprofitable, all those speculations which have no connection with the business of life." "This life being the first in certainty, we give it the first place in importance; and by giving human duties in relation to men the _precedence_, we secure that all interpretations of spiritual duty shall be in harmony with human progress." "Secularism is the philosophy of the things of time. A Secularist is one who gives primary attention to those subjects, the issues of which can be tested by the experience of this life. The Secularist principle requires that precedence should be given to the duties of this life over those which pertain to another world."[311]

Secularism, then, professes to be the _positive_ or _practical_ side of Atheism, and it claims to be better than Religion at least for this world, because it pays a preeminent, if not exclusive, regard to the duties of the present life. We cannot consider this "new development" of an old system, in connection with its recent change of name, and the reasons that are a.s.signed for it, without seeing that the force of public opinion, whether well or ill founded, has compelled its advocates to alter their tactics at least in two respects: they are anxious to withdraw from offensive prominence the _negative_ articles of their creed, and to put forward the _positive_ elements of truth which may still survive after the ruin of Religion; and they evince a disposition, somewhat new, to conciliate the Christian community, by admitting the sincerity of the clergy and the good intentions of believers generally, and inviting their cooperation in plans of secular improvement. But Atheism still lurks under the disguise of Secularism; and men of earnest religion are not likely to be tempted to any close alliance or active cooperation with those who misrepresent the character of that G.o.d in whom they believe, and of that Saviour in whom they trust. There may be some nominal Christians, however, already as unconcerned about the future and devoted to the present life, as Mr. Holyoake himself could wish them to be, who will eagerly grasp at this "new development," as a plausible pretext for continuing in their present course; for "with the exception of those who compose the real Church of Christ, whose faith is not a mere name and an unthinking a.s.sent to Christianity, but a real, living, constant power over their life, the _whole world is practically secularist_, and is living solely by the light of _the present_, and under the impulse of the motives which it supplies."[312] For "Secularism is only the Latin term for the old Saxon worldliness: Secularism has more elements of union than perhaps any other phase of infidelity; it has the worldliness of mere nominal Christians, as well as of real infidels."[313] They are really _Secularists_, but as yet they may not be at ease in their _Secularism_. There may be a secret monitor within, which reminds them occasionally of death, and judgment, and eternity; and the rapid flight of time, or the incipient sense of disease, or the ever-recurring instances of mortality, may awaken them to transient thoughts of another life for which it were well to be better prepared. What they want is a theory,--of plausible aspect and easy application,--which might serve to quell these rising thoughts, and allay their foreboding fears; and just such a theory they may seem to find in the proverbial maxim of Secularism, "Work _in_ this life, _for_ this life." We are not sure, however, that even with such men the zeal of the new _propaganda_ will be altogether successful. It may seem to some to be out of place, and may even excite a sense of the ludicrous.

"Just fancy for a moment," says the author already quoted, "some missionary of this principle going into the Royal Exchange at London, or the Stock Exchange at Leeds or Bradford, or the Cloth-halls of any of our manufacturing towns, summoning around him the merchants and the brokers, and then beginning with much earnestness and point to urge them _not_ to live for eternity, but to be very careful about the present life: insisting that it was very, very doubtful if earth were not all,--the present existence the whole of human existence; and that therefore until there was more certainty they had better make the most of this; be industrious and prudent, and make themselves as comfortable as possible; get as much money as they could honestly, and by no means let any dread of retribution hereafter fetter them in any of their actions here. Why, these merchants would turn away laughing and saying, 'Either the man is mocking us, or he is mad: that is just what we are doing with all our might.' They would see at least that Mr. Holyoake's teaching is very different from that of Him who said, 'Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment? But seek ye _first_ the kingdom of G.o.d and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.' 'For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his soul?

or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?' And marking that vast difference, they will feel, at least, that no man is ent.i.tled to address them as rational beings in the style of Secularism, unless he can give them an _absolute a.s.surance_ that there is and can be no future state of existence,--that the _present_ is man's _only_ life, and that death is an eternal sleep."

But does Mr. Holyoake give, or pretend to give, any such _a.s.surance_?

"We do not say," he tells us, "that every man ought to give an _exclusive_ attention to this world, because that would be to commit the old sin of dogmatism, and exclude the possibility of another world, and of walking by a different light from that by which alone we are able to walk. But as our _knowledge_ is confined to this life, and testimony, and conjecture, and probability are all that can be set forth with respect to another life, we think we are justified in giving _precedence_ to the duties of this state, and of attaching _primary_ importance to the morality of man to man." It is not _certain_, then, that there is no future life; it is even _possible_ that there may be one; the supposition is not in itself incredible, it may even have "testimony, conjecture, and probability" in its favor:--some attention to it, therefore, cannot be forbidden without "committing the old sin of dogmatism, and excluding the possibility of another world;" but its comparative uncertainty is urged as a reason for "giving _precedence_ to the duties of this state, and attaching _primary_ importance to the morality of man to man." The question would seem to be, not whether _any_ attention should be bestowed on a future life, but whether it should be less or more than the attention which we bestow on the present world. It is a question of degree; and the settlement of that question is made to hinge entirely on the comparative uncertainty of our prospect after death. Suppose it were more uncertain, might not the magnitude of the interests that must be involved in a new and untried existence hereafter, and which must be measured on the scale of eternity, be more than sufficient to counterbalance the difference? "Let us be only fully convinced that our present life is (or may be) the beginning of an _eternal duration_, and how irresistibly are we urged to a mode of conduct answerable to that _accession of importance_ which our present condition in the world derives from the peculiar point of view in which we then contemplate it!"[314] But, in point of fact, can it be reasonably said that _the future of our present life_ is in any respect more certain than our prospects after death: "What is our life? is it not like a vapor, which appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away?" And yet, in spite of its proverbial uncertainty, is it not a fundamental principle of Secularism that "true life begins in renunciation," and that "the _future_ must rule the _present_?" Extend these maxims, which are of unquestionable authority with reference to the present life, to our prospects beyond the grave, whether they be regarded as certain, or probable, or possible only, and they will abundantly vindicate the position that our conduct now and here should be regulated to some extent by a regard to what may be before us. In both cases alike, present gratification must give place to future safety, and _self-denial_, according to the shrewd remark of Franklin, is neither more nor less in the case of a prudent man than _self-owning_, the recognition of his own dignity, and the preference of a greater and more permanent to a smaller and transitory good. It might still, therefore, be alike our interest and our duty to have _some_ regard to a possible future in the scheme of our present life. And aware of this Mr. Holyoake solaces himself, and attempts to sustain the spirits of his friends with the a.s.surance, "Whatever is likely to secure your best interests here will procure for you the same hereafter,"--a strange inversion of the scriptural maxim, for it practically amounts to this, "Seek first the things of this world, and the kingdom of heaven shall be added unto you." And he states the ground or reason of his confidence in this respect: "If there be other worlds to be inhabited after this life, those persons will best be fitted for the enjoyment of them who have made _the welfare of humanity their business in this_." To make "the welfare of humanity their business in this life," is a duty which may be discharged by the Christian not less than the Secularist, and perhaps with all the greater zeal in proportion to his estimate of men as responsible and immortal beings, all pa.s.sing on, like himself, to an interminable future. But if there be another state of being after death, will he be best prepared for it who lives "without G.o.d" in this world, without serious forethought in regard to his eternal prospects, without any deliberate preparation for his certain and solemn change? Or will it be a consolation to him _then_ to reflect that he disbelieved or doubted now, and that he exerted his talents and spent his life on earth in undermining the faith of his fellow-men, and weakening their impressions of things unseen and eternal?

Mr. Holyoake seems to imagine that whether there be or be not a future state after death, Secularism is the "safest side," and he puts the alternative thus: "If there are other worlds to be inhabited after this life, those persons will best be fitted for the enjoyment of them who have made the welfare of humanity their business in this. But if there are not other worlds, men are essentially losers by neglecting the enjoyment of this." On either supposition, it would seem, the Secularist has the advantage of the Christian: on the one, because he and not the Christian, "makes the welfare of humanity his business;" on the other, because he, and not the Christian, has the true "enjoyment" of the present life. It might be difficult to prove either of these convenient a.s.sumptions, or to show that there is anything in Christianity to prevent, anything in Atheism to promote, the care of humanity on the one hand, or the enjoyment of life on the other. On the contrary, all experience testifies that Religion is the only sure spring of philanthropy, and that, on the whole, none have a sweeter enjoyment of the present life than those who can look abroad on the works of Nature and say, "My Father made them all," and who can look forward to death itself with "a hope full of immortality." It is true, that the serious expectation of a future state must impose a certain restraint on the indulgence of our appet.i.tes and pa.s.sions; but is it such a restraint as is injurious even to our temporal welfare? is it not the dictate of enlightened prudence, were we to look no further than to the present life? Mr. Holyoake himself repudiates the language which the apostle puts into the mouth of the unbeliever, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die,"--language which is expressive of what would be the natural tendency of men, were they a.s.sured of non-existence hereafter, but which Mr. Holyoake rejects, with something like virtuous indignation, saying, "That is the sentiment of the sensualist: it is not the sentiment of a man who is at all conscious that right and wrong are inherent in human nature, that there are wide distinctions between virtue and vice." This is not the sentiment of the man who comprehends that if we do well, it will be well with us, that if we do harm, the evil influence will follow us; who sees distinctly that "our acts, if good, our angels are," and "if ill, our fatal shadows that walk by us still."[315] It is not the apostle's sentiment nor the sentiment of any believer; it is, as Mr. Holyoake says, "the sentiment of the sensualist;" but it is represented as the natural offspring of unbelief in regard to a future state, just as sensualism is naturally generated and fostered by unbelief in regard to those moral principles which have respect to the present life; and if these principles may and should exert a controlling influence over our conduct, even to the extent of imposing restraint and self-denial with a view to our welfare in time, may they not be expected to be all the more powerful when we include also our welfare in eternity? and may it not thus become manifest that "G.o.dliness hath the promise of the life that now is, as well as of that which is to come?" It would be difficult to say in what respect believers "neglect the enjoyment of this life," or are "essentially losers" by their religion. They will gratefully ascribe to it their highest and purest happiness; and rather than part with it they will cheerfully submit to "the loss of all other things," and even to persecution and martyrdom itself. But it is asked, "If Christianity be false, is it nothing that you are troubled with a thousand anxieties and cares about what shall become of you after death? If Christianity be false, is it nothing that day after day you have the fear of death before your eyes? If Christianity be false, it makes you slaves while you live, and cowards in death."[316] We might answer, If Christianity be _true_, what then? but we prefer a different course: we say that the reality of a future state is in nowise dependent on the truth of Christianity, however much we may be indebted to Christianity for our certain knowledge of it; that even on the principles of Atheism there is no security against the everlasting continuance of self-consciousness, any more than there is against the inevitable stroke of death; that Christianity in either case a.s.sumes the fact, and addresses men as dying yet immortal creatures, while it reveals a way in which those "who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage" may be delivered from that fear, and raised to "a hope full of immortality." As death is not created or called into being by Christianity, so neither is the awful future which lies beyond it: the Secularist not less than the Christian has to do with it. Mr. Holyoake seems, at least occasionally, to be sensible of this solemn truth. "I am as much concerned," he says, "as this reverend gentleman can be, as to what shall be _the issue of my own condition in the future_; I am as much concerned _in the solution of this question_ as he is himself; and I believe that the view I entertain, or that any of us may entertain, _conscientiously_, will be our justification in that issue, if we should come to want justification. When we pa.s.s through the inexorable gates of the future; when we pa.s.s through that vestibule where death stands opening his everlasting gates as widely to the pauper as to the king; when we pa.s.s out here into the _dim mysteries of the future_, to confront, it may be, the interrogations of the Eternal,--I apprehend _every man's responsibility will go with him_, and no second-hand opinions will answer for us."[317] Is there not something here that should arrest the attention and awaken the anxiety even of the Secularist himself? He sees before him the inevitable event of death, and beyond it "the dim mysteries of the future;" he _may be_ called to "confront the interrogations of the Eternal," and then "every man's responsibility will go with him." Surely there is enough in the bare _possibility_ of such a prospect to justify more than all the interest which has ever been expended upon it even by the most "anxious inquirer." But, haunted by these solemn thoughts, Mr. Holyoake takes refuge in the other alternative of his dilemma: "If there are other worlds, those will best be fitted for the enjoyment of them who have made the welfare of humanity their business in this." Secular philanthropy is the best, and only needful, preparation. With this any belief in regard to the future is unnecessary, without it no belief will be of any avail: for "the view which any of us may entertain, conscientiously, will be our justification in that issue, if we should come to want justification;"

"No second-hand opinions will answer for us. Nothing can justify us, nothing can give us confidence, but the _conscientious nature_ of our own conclusions; nothing can give us courage but _innocence_; nothing can serve our turn but having believed according to _the best of our judgment_, and having followed those principles which _seem to us_ to be the truth." He takes refuge, then, first in his _good works_, and secondly in the _sincerity_ of his convictions, as the sole grounds of his confidence in the prospect of "confronting the interrogations of the Eternal!"

Is it wonderful,--such being his only hope in death,--that when cholera appeared in London, and mult.i.tudes were suddenly removed by that appalling visitation, he should have felt it necessary to deliver a series of Lectures,--now reprinted as "The Logic of Death,"--"with a view to the a.s.surance of his friends?" Might there not be some among them who would shrink from a future judgment on the ground of their "innocence" or "good works," and many more who would feel that they were making an awful venture in leaving their eternity to depend on the mere _sincerity_ of their convictions, in whatever way these convictions may have been formed, and whether they were _true or false_? And could they be rea.s.sured or comforted by any other article of the Secular Creed?

They might be told, as Mr. Holyoake tells them, "I am not an unbeliever, if that implies the rejection of Christian truth, since all I reject is Christian error:" I reject "the fall of man, the atonement, the sin of unbelief, the doctrine of future punishment; a disbeliever in all these doctrines, why should I fear to die?" But the more thoughtful among them, all who were really in earnest, might desiderate something more; they might see that _disbelief_, however dogmatic, does not amount to _disproof_, and that the _real ground of fear_ is not in the least removed by it. Does his question imply, that if these doctrines were _true_, he would have just reason to fear death? or does it mean merely, that whether they be true or false, he can have no reason to fear death, simply because he _disbelieves_ them? On the former supposition, how vast the difference between the Secularist and the Christian? The one would have reason to fear because these doctrines are or may be true; the other believes them to be true, and finds in that very belief a deliverance from the fear of death, and a firm ground of confidence and hope! On the latter supposition,--which we believe to be the correct one,--what an amazing confidence must that man possess in the _sincerity_ of his convictions, the _conscientiousness_ of his judgment, and the rigid _impartiality_ of his inquiries after truth, who can peril his eternal prospects on the mere fact that he _disbelieves_ these doctrines, whether they be _true_ or _false!_ Suppose that disbelief may diminish the intensity of his fears, can it alter the real state of the case, or remove the only just ground of apprehension and anxiety in regard to the future? The truth of these doctrines is not dependent either on our belief or disbelief; and in the way of _natural consequence_, even were there no additional penal infliction, they may vindicate themselves hereafter in the case of those who neglect or disbelieve them here, by leaving them dest.i.tute of all the advantages which flow only from the cordial reception of the truth. Thus much at least would be in entire accordance with the a.n.a.logy of our experience with reference to the interests of the present life; for we do suffer, even now and here, in consequence of our ignorance, or neglect, or practical disbelief of truth,--and it may be so hereafter, in the way simply of inevitable natural consequence, but much more in the way of righteous penal retribution, if there be any truth in that _philosophy of unbelief_, so true to nature and so solemnly proclaimed, "This is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil; for every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, _lest his deeds should be reproved_."[318]

We have endeavored to estimate the claims of Secularism, and to examine the foundations on which it rests. In doing so, we have not denied either the right or the duty of any man to inquire and to decide for himself on his own solemn responsibility. We admit as fully as Mr.

Holyoake himself, that personal responsibility implies the right, or rather the duty, of inquiry. He has our entire sympathy when he says, "It is my business to take care, if I walk _from time to eternity_, that I walk by that light which satisfies my own understanding. If it were true that any of you would take my place, _if we should eventually find ourselves at the bar of G.o.d_, and I should find myself to be made answerable for the opinions which I entertain, or for beliefs which I had in time, if any of you, or all of you, would take my place, and answer for me, then I might be content to take your opinions, then I might stand on the side of the world: but what does it matter to me what Newton believed, what Locke believed, or what the world believes, unless the world will answer for me if I believe as the world believes?" But while the right of inquiry is frankly admitted, it can scarcely be denied that the mind may be biased by prejudice and involved in error; and the ultimate question is, not, what are your opinions? but, what are the grounds on which they rest?--not, what is your belief? but, what is the truth? Mr. Holyoake is the Coryphaeus of his party. As a popular writer and speaker, his talents and zeal, devoted to a better cause, might have fitted him for extensive usefulness, and rendered him a benefactor to his country. As it is, no man in England rests under a heavier load of responsibility. He has placed himself at the head of the _propaganda_ of popular infidelity. Is it yet too late for him to reconsider his opinions, and retrace his steps? For his own sake, for the sake of those who are near and dear to him, for the sake of the mult.i.tudes who must be influenced, for good or evil, by his speeches and writings, let him lay to heart the solemn words of Sir Humphrey Davy;--"I envy no quality of mind or intellect in others,--not genius, power, wit, or fancy: but if I could choose what would be most delightful, and I believe most useful to me, I should prefer _a firm religious belief_ to every other blessing; for it makes life a discipline of goodness, creates new hopes when all earthly hopes vanish, and throws over the decay, the destruction of existence, the most gorgeous of all lights, calling up the most delightful visions, where the sensualist and skeptic view only gloom, decay, and annihilation."

"Attempt how vain,-- With things of earthly sort, with aught but G.o.d, With aught but moral excellence, truth, and love To satisfy and fill the immortal soul!

To satisfy the ocean with a drop;-- To marry immortality to death; And with the unsubstantial Shade of Time To fill the embrace of all Eternity."

THE END.