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(Siitige SBorte
über bte
Unfci)((iartcitSrtïircf fe
unb:
£)ie neue
♦♦
ùes bondis
010002010201
unb tijre tijeofogtfdje QSebeufung.
3 h) e i @ u t a dj t e n
üon
3. b. Tôffinger.
IMündjen 1870.
3tubolpfy Olbenbourg.
��ftnige Pforte üfier bte ^Infef^ßarfmteabreffe.
)
*
(Sie haben bte merkwürbige Stbrcffe gebraut, welche
aus bem «Sc&oofje bcS 23aticanifchen ©oncils IjcrauS ben
^ßa'pft bittet: baff er bie erforberlichen (Stritte tfyun möge
um feine eigene Unfehlbarkeit burctj bie gegenwärtige 23er=
fammlung jum ©laubenSartifcl erheben ¿u laffen. 180
Millionen Wnfchen — baS verlangen bie Xöifd)öfe welche
biefe 5lbreffe unterzeichnet haben — folien künftig burd)
bie ©rohung ber ?luSfdilicjfung aus ber 5tird)e, ber ©nt=
jiehung ber (Sacramente unb ber ewigen 23erbammniff gc=
gwungen werben baS zu glauben unb zu bekennen was bie
^irclje bisher nicht geglaubt, nicht gelehrt hat. Seicht ge=
glaubt hat — benn auch biejenigen welche biefe ¡päpftlidje
Unfehlbarkeit bisher für wal;r gehalten haben, konnten fic
bodf nidft glauben, bicfeS SBort im dfriftlidjen ©inne
genommen. Bwifchcn ©tauben (fide divina) unb zwifdjen
ber vcrftanbeSmäfzigcn Einnahme einer für wahrfdfcinlid)
gehaltenen Meinung ift ein unermeßlicher Uttterftfueb.
©tauben kann unb barf ber Katholik nur baSjenige was
ihm als göttlich geoffenbarte, zur ©ubftanz ber ^eilslchre
gehörige, über jeben Bweifct erhabene SBahrljeít von ber
*) 2Iu$ ber SlitgSfmrger SlHgemeinen ¿dtung, 1870 5¡r. 21.
j
Stimmen auö b. fatlj.Äirdje üb. b. Äirdjenfr. b. (Segenm. 7
©Bllinger, jtvet ©utadjten.
�88
©ödinger,
(2)
Jlirc^c felbft mitgetljcilt unb vorgcjcidjnct wirb, nur ba8=
fettige, an beffcn tBetcnntnifj bie ^ugeljörigteit jur Jtirdße
gcfnüpft ift, babfenige beffcn ©egentlfeil bic 5tircf»c fd)le^t=
fyin nidjt biilbct, als offenbare 3»rrlcl)re verwirft. $n
2öat;r(}cit Ijat alfo fein -Dicnfd) von Anfang ber ^ird;c bis
junt heutigen Jage bic Unfehlbarkeit bcS ^ßa^fteö geglaubt,
b. I). fo geglaubt wie er an ©ott, an ©tjriftus, an bie
Dreieinigkeit beS SSaterS, «SoIfneS unb ©eiftcS u. f. w.
glaubt, fonbern viele Ijabcit cS nur vermutet, ljaben eS
für waljrfdjeinlidj ober IfödfftenS für mcitf^Iid; gewifj (fide
humana) gehalten bafj biefe Prärogative bem pa^ft jufomntc. ©emnadj Wäre bie SScränbcrung in bem ©tauben
unb ber Scljrc ber Jlirdje Wcldje bic 2lbrejj=33ifd;öfc burd^=
geführt Wiffcn Wollen ein in ber @efc^id;te ber Jtiräßc
cinjig baftcljcnbcS ©reigniff; in acfitjclm ^aljrfyunberten ift
nidjtS WjnlidfcS vorgcfommeit. ©S ift eine firdjlidje ERe=
Volution, welche fic begehren, um fo bur^greifenber als
eS fid; Ijier um baS fyunbament ljanbclt Welches beit reli=
giöfen ©tauben fcbeS Witfdfen künftig tragen unb galten
foll, als an bic «Stelle ber ganjcit, in 3cit unb 9tanm
univcrfalcn ätirefje ein einzelner ^Qienfd;, ber Pa'pft, gefegt
werben foH. «isljcr fagte ber Katholik: 3d; glaube biefe
ober jene ßcljre auf baS 3cugnij3 ber gaitjcn J?ird;e aller
3eitcit, weil fie bic Scrljcijjung l;at, bafj fic immerbar be=
fielen, ftctö im Scfifc ber 2öai>ri?eit bleiben foH. künftig
aber müfjte ber Jtatl;olit fagen: idj glaube weil ber
für unfehlbar erklärte patft cS ju teuren unb ju glauben
befiehlt. ©afj er aber unfehlbar fei, baS glaube itf;, weil
er cS von fid; behauptet. ©enn 400 ober 600 5Bifd;öfe
�(3)
bie llnfefylbarfeitöabrefie.
89
haben ¿war im 3ahre 1870 3U ^om befchloffen, baß ber
ißapft unfehlbar fei; allein alle Bifdjöfe unb jebeS Goncil
aljne ben ^b'apft finb bet Wglicljtcit beS ^rrthumS untere
ivorfen; Untrüglichfeit ift baS auSfchließenbe Borrecht unb
Befifcthum beb Sßapfteö, fein ¿eugniß können bie Bifd;öfe,
viele ober wenige, webet verftärken noch abfcfywacfyen; jener
Befchluß ljat alfo nur fo viel ¿traft unb Slutorität, als
oer 5ßapft ihm, inbem er fiel; benfclben ancignet, verliefen
hat. Unb fo löft fic^ beim SllleS julefet in baS Selbfh
jeugniß beS ^ßapftcö auf, was freilich fcljr einfach ift.
£abei fei nur erinnert, baff vor 1840 3ahren e*n uiu
enblicp Roherer einmal gefagt Ijat: „SBenn ich mir felber
ßeugniß gebe, fo ift mein 3eugniß nicht glaubwürbig."
(M 5, 31.)
SDie Slbrcffe gibt inSbefonbere ju folgenben Siebenten
Einlaß:
©rftenS: fie befdjräntt bie Unfehlbarkeit beS ißapfteS
auf biejenigen 5luSfprüd;e unb ©ecrete, welche berfelbe an
bie ®efammtl)eit aller ©laubigen richtet, alfo ¿ur Belehr
ung ber gangen fatholifdjen ¿tirdje erläßt.
daraus würbe alfo folgen, baß, wenn ein ^ßapft nur
an einzelne Sßerfonen, ¿törperf¿haften, ^articularkirchen fiep
wenbete, er ftets bem ^rrthum preisgegeben war. 9lun
haben aber bie ißäpfte gwölf ober brei^n 3ahr^un^cUe
lang bie Bebingung, an welche bie ^rrthumölofigkeit ihrer
©ntfeheibungen ober Belehrungen geknüpft fein foU, nie
verwirklicht: alle ¿tunbgebuiigen ber ißäpfte über fragen
ber Sehre vor bem Gnbe bcS 13. 3ahrhunbertS finb nur
an beftimmte ^ßerfonen ober an bie Bifcpöfe eines ßanbeS
�90
SöUirtßer,
(4)
u. f. w. gerichtet. £)er ganzen orientalifchcn Jtirc^e ift
niemals in bem ^ahrtaufenb bet Bereinigung ein att=
gemein lautcnbeS Secret eines papfteS mitgetfyeilt worben,
nur — nnb in langen 3^^i^cnräumen — an einzelne
Patriarchen ober an äbaifer haben bie päpfte bogmatifcfje
Schreiben gerichtet.
@S ift alfo flar, baff bie päpfte felbcr von biefer
Bebingung, von welcher bie Sicherheit nnb Unfehlbarfeit
ihrer (Sntfd;eibnngen abhängen foll, minbeftenS taufenb
3ahre lang feine Slhnuitg gehabt haben, wie benn biefe
Behauptung auch crft fehr fpät erfonnen nnb ber Jtirche
vor 1562 unbefannt gewefen ift. 3n tiefem $ahre Xjat fie
nämlich ber Söwencr ^hcologc Johann ^effels ¿um erften«
mal vorgetragen, von bem fie BeHarmin entlehnte, nnb
mit Stellen aus beit falfchcn 3fiborifchcn ©ccretalcn nnb
mit ben erbidhtetcii ^cugniffen bcS heiligen GpriHuS ftüt^te.
Biit einem einzigen vorgefetjten SBorte, burch bie blofje
2luffchrift hätten bie päpftc ihren bogmatif^en Jtunb=
gebungen nach biefer SSheorie bie hWte Prärogative ber
¿rrthumSlofigfeit verleihen fönnen. Sic haben eS nicht
gethan, haben perfonen nnb ©emeinben in bie ©cfahr
verfemt, burch Einnahme ihrer, ohne bie Bürgfchaft gött=
lieber Gewißheit gegebenen Gntfcheibungen in ^rrthümer
¿u verfallen.
3weitens. (5s ift unwahr, baß „gemäjf ber aH=
gemeinen nnb conftantcn Srabition ber Kirche bie bogmati=
fehen Urteile ber päpftc irrcformabcl finb." ®aS @egen=
theil liegt vor aller Singen, ©ic Jtirclje hat bie bogmatifchen
Schreiben ber päpftc ftets erft geprüft, nnb ihnen in {yolge
�(5)
bie Unfefjlbarfeitöabreffe.
91
tiefer Prüfung cntweber ¿ugeftimmt, wie baS Goncil von
Gtjalcebon mit bcm Schreiben £eo’S getljan, ober fie als
irrig verworfen, wie baS fünfte Goncil (553) mit bem
Gonftitutum beS 33igiliuö, baS fctfgte Goncil (6S1) mit
bem Schreiben beS ^onoriitS getljan Ijat.
Srittens. ©3 ift nidjt richtig, bafj auf bem ¿weiten
Goncil von Sijon (1274) burcf) bie ^uftimmung ber ©riedjen
fowofyl als ber Lateiner ein ©laubcnSbefenntniß angenom=
men worben fei, in wcldjem erflärt wirb: baß „Streitig;
feiten über ben ©tauben burcf) baS Urtljeil beS ^ßaipfteö
entfliehen werben müßten." SESeber bie ©riedjen nodj bie
Lateiner, baS Reifst, bie ¿u Sijon verfammcltcn abenbfänbi;
fefjen 33ifd)öfe, eigneten fid) biefeS ©laubenSbefenntnifj an,
fonbern ber verdorbene ^ßapft GlemenS IV. fjatte es bem
Äaifer 2)lid)acl ipaläologuS als ißebingung feiner 3u(affung
¿ur Jtirdjengemcinfdjaft gefdjidt. SDUdjael, im unfidjeren
SSeftis ber erft für^lid) wieber eroberten jpaniptftabt, fdjwer
betrogt von bem lateinifdjen ^gifer Salbuin unb bem Äönig
«Karl von Sicilien, beburfte bringenb beS fßa^fteS, ber allein
feinen «fpauptfeinb ¿ur 9iuf;e nötigen fonntc, unb verftanb
fid^ baljer ¿u ben iBebingungen firdjfidjcr Unterwerfung,
welche bie Sßäpfte iljm Vorfdwieben, wiewofjl unter bem
beharrlichen Sßiberfprudje ber gried)ifd;cit Eßifdjöfe unb ber
Nation. Gr rüefte alfo bie il;m auferlegte formet in baS
Schreiben ein, welches auf bcm Goncil vorgefefen unb von
feinem ©efanbten bem Sogotljeten beftätigt würbe. Gr
felber erffarte ¿u «fpaufe, in «Konftantinopel, bie brei 3U=
geftanbniffe, bie er bcm ißapft gemadjt habe, für itluforifdj.
(Pachymeres de Michaele Palaeol. 5, 22.) Sie Ver=
�92
©öHtnger,
(6)
fammelten 53ifchöfe aber haben fich gar nicht in ber Sage
befunben, über tiefe formet eine Meinung abgugeben.
Viertens. ©a§ ©ccret ber glorentinifchen Stynobe
wirb tyier verftümmelt angeführt; gcrabe ber ^paitptfats, beffen
ftormulirung in $olge tanger iBerljanblungen ¿wifc^cn ben
©riechen unb ben Italienern gu Staube tarn, unb auf ben
baS größte ©cwicht gelegt würbe, weil baS SSorauägehenbe
nur gemäfj ber barin enthaltenen tBefdgänfung verftanben
werben follte, ift weggelaffen, ber Satj nämlich: juxta
eum modum, quo et in gestis et in sacria canonibus
oecumenicorum conciliorum continetur. ©er £ßa£ft unb
bie ©arbinäle verlangten nämlich beharrlich, baff als nähere
iöeftimmung, wie ber Primat beö ißapfteS gu verfielen fei,
beigefefct werbe: juxta dicta Sanctorum. ©aS wiefen bie
©riechen mit gleicher ¿Beharrlichkeit gurüct. Sie wußten
wohl, baff unter biefen „$eugniffen ber ^eiligen" fich eine
beträchtliche SIngahl fel)r weitgehenber erbichteter ober ge=
fälfchtcr Stellen befinbe. <£»atte hoch ber latcinifche ©rg=
bifci;of Slnbreaö, einer ber Otebncr, fich f<hon *n ber 7.
Sifcung auf bie berüchtigten (üjrilluö ^cugniffe berufen,
bie, feitbem ©homaö von Slquin unb ißapft Urban IV.
guerft baburch htatergangen worben waren, im ©ccibent
eine gewaltige unb nachhaltige SBirtung hervorgebracht hat=
ten, feist aber von ben ©riechen gurüefgewiefen würben, ©er
Äaifer bemerkte noch: wenn einer ber Sßäter in einem
¿Briefe an ben ißapft fich l,n ©omplimenten=Sti)l geäußert
habe, fo bürfe man barauo nicht gleich ¿Rechte unb ißrivi=
legien ableiten wollen, ©ie Lateiner gaben enblich nach,
bie dicta Sanctorum verfchwanben au3 bem ©ntwurf, unb
�7)
bie Unfe^lbarfeitöabreffe.
93
rafür würben alé DJia^ftab unb ©dorante beé ípctpfttnfyen
primaté bie 2)erl;anbíungcn ber ofumeitifchen Goncilien
anb bie {»eiligen Ganoneé gefegt. ©amit war jeber ©ebanle
an ¡papftlidje Unfehlbarkeit auégefchloffen, ba in ben alten
(Toncilien unb in ben, beiben Äircfyen gemeinjc^aftlidjen,
vor=ifiborifchen (Sanoned fid^ nicht nur nichts finbet, waé
auf ein berartigeé SSorredjt fyinwiefe, fonbern bie ganje alte
(SJefefjgebnng ber Äircfye, fowie baS Verfahren unb bie ®e=
idjidjtc ber fieben ötumenifdjen Goncilicn (biefe waren ge=
meint) gan¿ cvibent einen 3uftanb vorauéfeijt, in weldjem
bie hoffte Autorität ber fiebre nur ber gefammten Kirche,
nicfjt aber einem einzelnen ber fünf Patriarchen (baS war
oer Papft in ben Äugen ber ©rieten) jufteljt. Ueberbiefj
oatte @r¿bifcí;of Sßeffarion im tarnen fämmtlidjer ©riechen
crft turj vorder erklärt: bafc ber Papft geringer alé baé
'Soncil (alfo aud) nicht unfehlbar) fei. (Sess. IX, Concil.
Labbei XIII, 150.) @3 ift alfo eine SSerftümmelung,
welche einer 23erfälfd)uug gleidj kommt, wenn man aué bem
©ecret ber Florentiner Spnobe gerabe beit £>auptfa£, auf
weldjen bie, für welche baS ©ecret gemacht würbe, ben
wchfteu Söcrtl) legten, wegftreidjt ©er Sah war in ben
Äugen ber ©riechen fo unentbehrlich, baft fie unverrichteter
©inge abreifen ju wollen erklärten, wenn man iljn nid)t
einrüde. Äudj barauf beftanben fie, unb festen eö burch,
oaf) alle ntcd)te unb Privilegien ber übrigen Patriarchen
im ©ccret Vorbehalten würben; bafs aber baé Dtedjt felbft=
ftänbig an ber ^eftftellung ber gcmeinfdjaftlidjcn lirdjlicpen
¿ehre theil¿unehmen, unb nicht etwa blofj ben Änfprüdjen
eines unfehlbaren ÜRcifteré fidj unterwerfen ¿u müffen,
�94
©ödinger,
(8)
ben Patriarchen guftefye, Ratten bic Spd^pfte früher fetber
erflärt.
(S3 liegt freilich noch ein anberer ®runb ¿u ber von
beut (Joncipientcn ber Slbreffe begangenen SBerftümmelung
be3 {ytorentinifeijen Secreta vor; follie er nämlich ben la=
teinifc^en Sext in feiner urfprünglicfyen, bem (55riecf)ifdjen
entfprecljenbcn Raffung geben, ivie fie §(aviu§ 23lonbu3,
«Secretar be£ ^?apfteö (Sagen IV. unb bie älteren Geologen
haben: quemadmodum et in actis Conciliorum et in
sacris canonibus continetur? Ober füllte er bie (¿uerft
von Abraham 23arti)oloinäw3 angebrachte) ^älfcljung, wo
)
*
ftatt be£ et gefegt ift: etiam, fidj aneignen? ©urei; biefeö
etiam wirb ber Sinn beö ©ccretö völlig geänbert, uitb bie
5lbfid;t bc3 BufaijeS vernichtet; eö ift aber, obgleich eö eine
hanbgrcifliche fyälfchung ift, in bie (Soncilicn = Sammlungen
nnb bogmatifdjen Sehrbücher übergegangen, unb e$ wäre
hohe $eit, biefen Stein bc3 SlnftoffeS für bie Orientalen
wegjuräumen unb ben echten Sext, nämlich ben bem grie=
*) Stuf bie Slutorität beb päpftiidjen «Sefietärb ^-laüio 23ionbo
bin, welcher ben griedfifchen ©ert richtig überfefjt Ijat, nahm ich an,
bafj bie unrichtige unb ben Sinn beb ©riedjifdjen unüerfennbar alte=
rirenbe «ßerfion beb quemadmodum etiam eine (patere «öeränberung
fei. (jdj habe mich aber feitbem fowohl auö Jriebniann’ß ©arlegung
in ber Sllig. Leitung, alö auö beni Mbbrutf beö ©riginab©ofumentö
in bem Archivio Storico Italiano 1857, II. p. 219 iiberjeugt, baff
biefe «Sorte aderbingb gleich int erften lateinifdjeii ©erte fdjon (tauben,
(o bafj vom erften Slnfang an griedjifdjer unb lateinifdjer ©ept Don
einanber abwidjen. ©afj bie ©riedjen ben ©ert, wie er im Vateinifdjen
lautet, nidjt angenommen tjaben würben, wenn fie iljn gefannt unb
oerftanben hatten, beweifen bie DorauSgegangenen Skrhanblungen
(29. Mpril).
�(9)
bie UnfeljIbarfeitSabrefje.
95
djifcben SSortlaut entfpredjenben, fyerjuftellen. Sann aber
wäre freilid) baö Secret für bie 3we(^c ^er Sfnfallibiliften
nic^t meljr brauchbar, wie ber G-rjbifdjof von iparis, Se
SRarca, fdjon vor 200 ^aljrcn nadjgewiefcn ljat. (Concord.
Sacerd. et imperii 3, 8.) Gr bemerft richtig: Verba
41 Graeca in sincero sensu accepta modum exercitio
>5 potestatis pontificiae imponunt ei similem quem ecclesia
Gallicana tuetur. At e contextus latini depravata
lectione eruitur plenum esse Papae potestatem, idque
probari actis Conciliorum et canonibus.
I
Sie Slbreffe ertlärt fit mit befonberer ^nbignation
(acerbissimi catholicae doctrinae impugnatores —
blaterare non erubescunt) gegen bie, weiche bie flöten=
tinifdje Si)nobe nidjt für öfumenifd) galten. Sie Sl)atfad;en
mögen fpredjen. Sie Sijnobe würbe betanntlid) berufen,
um ba£ Goncil jn 23afc( ¿u @runbe 511 ridjten, als biefeS
wi mehrere bcr römifdjen Gurie läftige [Reformen ju befdjliefjen
I begonnen ljatte. 2lm 9. 5lpri( 1438 würbe fie 311 gerrara
eröffnet, unb nun muffte fcd;S Wnatc lang gewartet wer=
ben, oljne bafj irgenbetwaS gefefjab, fo gering war bie 3af)l
I ber Ijerbeigcfommcncn 23ifdjöfe. Sius bem ganzen nörblidjen,
bamald nod; völlig fatlfolifdjen Guropa, aus Scutfdjlanb,
ben ffanbinavifdjen Säubern, ißolen, Söljmen, bem bama=
ligen ^rantreidj, Gaftilien, Portugal u. f. w. tarn' üRie=
manb; man tann fagen: neun 3el)iitl)cile bcr bamaligen
fatl)olifd;en Sßclt beteiligten fidj grunbfä^lid; nid;t an bcr
<5t)itobe, Weil fie bicfelbc ber iöafclcr 23er[ammlung gegeiv
über für illegitim Igelten, unb Dobermann wuftte, bafs für
■ bie bringenbfte 3lngclegen()eit, bie [Reform ber JHrd)e, bort
�96
SJöüinger,
(10)
nichts gefd)el)cn werbe. So brachte enblicp Gugen mit
äRüpe eine Schaar italienifcper iBifcijöfe, gegen 50, ju=
fammen, wo^u bann ltocp einige vom 5?er$og von 53urgunb
gefepitfte IBifcpöfe, einige Provenzalen unb ein paar Spanier
famen — in allem waren eS 62 23ifcpöfe, welcpe unters
¿eigneten. Sie grieepifepen Prälaten mit iprern Jtaifer
waren in ber äufcerften ©efapr beS Untergangs burep bie
SSerpeifjung von ©elb, Scpiffen unb Solbaten bapin ge=
¿ogen worben; ber Papft patte jubem verfproepen, bie
Jtoften ipreö 3lufentpaltS in $errara unb Florenz unb
iprer Rücfreife $u tragen. 2llS fie fiel) unnaepgiebig geigten,
entzog er ipnen bie Subfibien, fo bafj fie in bittere Rotp
gerietpen, unb enbiiep, gezwungen burep ben «ftaifer unb
burep junger gebrängt, Singe unterjeiepneten, bie fie fpäter
faft alle wiberriefen. SaS Urtpeil eines grieepifepen $eit=
genoffen, beS SlmprutiuS, welcpeS ber römifepe ©eleprte
2IHatiuS (de perp. censens. 3, 1, 4) anfüprt, ift bamalS
baS perrfepenbe Urtpeil unter ben ©rieepen gewefen: „Söirb
wopl", fagte er, „^emanb im (Srnft biefe Spnobe für eine
otumenifepe auSgebcn, welcpe ©laubenSartitel mit ©elb
ertaufte, welcpe fimoniftifcp ipre SSefcplüffe nur burep 2luS=
fiept auf finanzielle unb militarifepe ^ülfeleiftung burcp=
Zufefjen vermoepte?" ^n fyraulreicp ift vor ber Revolution
bie Tylorenttnifcfie Spnobe als uneept verworfen worben;
baS pat ber Garbinal ©uife, opne irgenbeinen Söiberfprucp
ju erfapren, auf bem Xribentinifcpen Qoncil ertlart. Ser
portugiefifepe Speologe ißapva be 2lnbraba fagt barüber:
Florentinam (Synodum) sola Gallia — pro oecumenica
nunquam habuit, quippe quam neque adire dum agita-
�11)
bie UnfefyfôarfeitSabreffe.
97
etur, neque admittere jam perfectam atque absoluam voluerit. (Defens. fid. Trident, pag. 431, ed.
olon. 1580.)
©er übrige ©ert ber dlbreffe befcbâftigt fich mit ber
Ausführung, bajg bie dlufftettung beS neuen ®laitbcnS=
rtifeïS gcrabe jcfjt geitgemâfj, ja bringcub notfymenbig fei,
eil einige iÇerfoncn, bie fid) für jtatholifcn auSgcben,
■’mgft biefe Meinung von ber pâpftlichen Untrüglichfeit
~ eftritten fyaben. 20aS bie dtbreffe Îjicr thcilS fagt, theils
IS (in iRom) befannt vorauôfetjt, ift mcfcntlidh ^olgcnbeê.
in unb für fich, meint fie, mare es nicht gerabc abfoïut
otijmenbig gemcfcn, bie
ber ©laubenSlehren burdj
n neues ©ogma gu vermehren, aber bie Sage fjabe fich
o geftaltct, baf? bicS jctjt unausmeichtich fei. (Seit mehreren
fahren Ijat nâmïidj ber ^cfuitcn-Drben, unterftüfct von
nem dlnhang ©leidjgefinnter, eine digitation gu ©unften
?S gu macfycnben ©ogmaS gugleidh in Station, ^ranfreich,
: deutfdjtanb unb ©nglanb begonnen, ©inc eigene religiôfe
' ^efeÏÏfctjaft, gu bem 3mccfc für bie ©rlangung beS neuen
ä Dogmas gu beten unb gu mirfcn, ift von beu Sefuiten
~ egrünbet unb öffentlich angcfünbigt morbcn; iijr ^aupt=
: rgan, bie in Hlorn crfcf;einenbc ©iviltà, Ijat eS gum voraus
'S bie Hauptaufgabe beS ©onciïs bcgcicfjnet, ber parrenbcn
_ Seit bas ©cfdienf beS. feptcnben ©taubenSartifelS entgegen
t a bringen ; iïjre „Saazer «Stimmen" unb Wiener ^3ubti=
r. itionen Ijaben baffelbe ©hema breit unb in unermüblid^er
*. Siebert»olung erörtert.
Sei biefer digitation marc es nun bie Pflicht aller
' InberSbenfenbcn gcmefen, in ehrfurchtsvollem «Schmeigen
t
�98
©ödinger, bie UnfeljIbarfeitSabreffe.
(12)
¿u bcrfyarren, bie ^efuitcn unb ityrcn Slnfjang rutyig ge=
waljrcn ¿u laffen, bie von irrten in ¿atylreidjen Schriften
toorgebradjtcn Argumente feiner Prüfung
unterbieten.
Seiber ift bicö nic^t gefetzten; einige Ticnf^cn t^ben bie
unerhörte ^rccljteit gehabt, ba§ tc^9c ©feigen ¿u brechen
unb eine abtx>eidpenbe Meinung funb 311 geben, tiefes
Slergernifj fann nur burdj eine SSermctrung beS @Iaubcn§=
bcfenntniffeS, eine JBeranberung ber 5tated)i§men unb aller
^etigionäbü^er gefüllt werben.
�¿)ie neue ^e^äfisorbnuitg be$ goncifc unb
ißre tfjeofoaifdje gdebeutung.
$)ie neue ® efchaftSorbnung, voeXc^e bem Zoncil burcl)
i bie fünf Zarbinal^ßegatcn auferlegt worben, 'ift völlig ver| fliehen von allem, wa§ fonft auf Zoncilien gebräuchlich
<war, unb guglcidj maf^gebenb unb entfdScibcnb für bcn
I ferneren Verlauf biefer SSerfammlung unb für bie gal)t=
I reichen betrete, welche burdj fie gu (Staube gebracht werben
| foUen. <Sie verbient baljer bie forgfältigfte Sßeadjtung. Bur
gefdjici)tlid)cn ©rientirung mag nur in ber ^ürje erwähnt
* werben, bafj für bie allgemeinen Zoitcilien ber alten Äirdje
i; im erften 3afjrtauienb eine beftimmtc ©efdjaftSorbnung
it nidjt eyiftirte. Br für römifc^e unb fpanifdje $rovingial=
i Zoncilien gab e§ ein liturgifcljeS Zeremoniell. SlllcS mürbe
)
*
| in voller 53erfammlung vorgetragen; jeber 23ifdjof tonnte
j Einträge fteUen, welche er wollte, unb bie ißrafibenten, bie
tj weltlichen fowoljl, welche bie ^taifcr faubten, al§ bie geift=
I liehen, forgten für Orbnung unb leiteten bie Serhanblungen
ii in einfacher Söeife. ©ie großen Zoncilien gu Äonftang
i unb 23afcl machten fich eine eigene £>rbnung, ba bie ^heil=
3 ung unb Slbftimmung nach Nationen eingeführt würbe.
*) 2Iufßenonunen von (pfeubotfibor, unb abgebrutft bet Mansi
Concil. Coll. I, 10.
�100
©öUinger, bie neue ©efdjäftSorbnung.
(14)
3n Orient würbe biefe Einrichtung wieber verlaffen, aber
bie ßegaten, Welche präfibirten, vereinbarten bie <55efc^äft^=
orbnung mit ben æifcbôfen, ber Earbinal be ÏÏRonte tief?
barüber abftimmcn unb alte genehmigten fie. 3Son feiner
)
*
Seite erfolgte ein SSBibcrfpruc^. So ift benn bie heutige
romifche Stynobe bie erfte in ber Ecfchidüe ber J^irdße, in
Welcher ben verfammelten Tätern ohne febe Spcilnahme von
ihrer Seite bie procebur borgefchriebeit worben ift. ©aS
erfte Regolamento erwies fiel; fo hemmenb unb urtpraftifh,
bajg wieberhoite Oefndße um Slbänberung unb Eeftattung
freierer ^Bewegung von vertriebenen $raftionen bcS EpiSfo=
pats an ben Sßa^ft gerichtet würben. ©icjj war vergeblich;
aber nach britthalb Monaten fanben bie fünf Segaten cnb=
lieh felber, bafj, wenn bas Eoncil nicht ins Stocfen geraden
foHe, eine îlenberung unb Ergänzung bringenb nothwenbig
fei. 5luf bie Petitionen ber SBifdjöfe ift inbefj in ber neuen
Einrichtung feine Dlücfficht babei genommen worben.
3wei $üge treten barin vor allem hcrvor. Einmal
ift alle ÜRadht unb aller Einfluß auf ben (Sang beS EoncilS
in bie 5pänbe ber prafibirenben ßegaten unb ber ©cputa=
tionen gelegt, fo bafj baS Eoncil felbft ihnen gegenüber
machtlos unb willenlos erfefjeint. Sobann follen bie ge=
Wicfjtigften fragen beS (Staubens unb ber Sehre burch ein=
fadhe Mehrheit ber ^opfjahl, burd) îlufftehen unb Si^en«
bleiben, entfliehen werben.
$Ran hat befanntlich in ben ¿Wei fahren, welche ber
/
*) Le Plat, Monumenta, III. 418: Dicant Patres, utrum
hic modus procedendi eis placeat. SQorauf abge[ìimmt tuurbe.
�(15)
101
bii neue @ef(^aftöorbnung.
Eröffnung beS EoncilS vorpergegangen, eine HJiengc von
3lbpanblungen mit baju gehörigen Decreten nnb EaitoneS
ausarbeiten laffen, biefe follen nun von bem Eoncil ange=
nommen unb bann vom ^ßapft „approbante Concitio“
als ®efet3c, als Sepr= unb (SlaubenSnormen für bie ganje
tatpolifepe Epriftenpcit vertünbigt werben. Es finb im ganzen
einnubfünfjig foldper Scpemate, von welcpen bis jefct erft
fünf biScutirt finb.
Das ©erfapren, wclcpeS bet ber iBeratpung unb 3lb=
ftimmung ftattfinben foli, ift nun folgenbeS:
1. ©aS (Scpema wirb mehrere (jepn) ©age vor ber
iBeratpung ben Tätern beS (SoncilS auSgettjeilt, welche bann
fcpriftlicpc Erinnerungen, $IuSftettungen, ©erbefferungSantrage
machen tonnen.
2. $n biefem §aU rnüffen fie fogleicfj eine neue formet
ober Raffung beS betreffenben SIrtitelS ftatt beS von ipnen
beanftanbeten in 23orfcf)(ag bringen.
3. Solcpe Einträge werben burep ben Secretär ber
einfeplägigen Deputation (eS finb bereu vier) übergeben,
welche bann nacp iprem Ermeffen bavon (Sebraucp maept,
inbem fie bas Scperna, wenn fie es für gwetfmä^ig palt,
reformirt, unb bann in einem, aber nur fummarifcp ge=
paltenen, Sericptc bem Eoncil von ben gefteUten Anträgen
eine D^otij gibt.
4. Die ißräfibenten tonnen jebeS Scpema entweber
blos im @an$en ober auep in Slbfbpnitte getpeilt ber 53e=
ratpung unterftellen.
5. 23ei ber iBeratpung tonnen bie Sßräfibenten jeben
SDBllinger, jtoei Sutac^ten.
2
Stimmen auöb.fati). jtirdje üb. b.Äirdjenfr. b.@egenm.
8
�102
Töttingev,
(16)
9tebner unterbrechen, wenn eS ihnen fheint, bap er nicht
bei bet (Sache bleibe.
G. SicSifchöfeher Deputation tonnen in jebem Moment
baS SSort ergreifen, um beit Sifhßfcn, welche ben 2öort=
taut beS (Schema beanftanben, ju erwiberit.
7. „ßcpn Säter reichen hin, um ben Schluß ber Dis
*
cuffion ju beantragen, worüber bann mit einfacher TOeljr«
heit burch Slnfftehcn ober Sitzenbleiben cntfchicben wirb.
8. Sei ber Slbftimmung über bic einzelnen Shcite beS
(Schema wirb juerft über bic vorgcfchlagcnen Seränbcrungen,
bann über ben von ber Deputation vorgelcgteu Sert burch
‘ülufftehen ober Sitzenbleiben abgeftimmt, fo bajj bie einfache
■IRehrheit entfeheibet.
9. hierauf wirb über baS ganje (Schema mit 9lamenS=
aufruf abgeftimmt, wobei jeber ber Sätcr mit placet ober
non placet antwortet. Cb auch I^cr
blojjc Mehrheit
ber Äopßahl entfeheiben folie, ift nicht angegeben. (FS
fcpcint aber nach ber ülualogic bejaht werben ¿u muffen,
benn baS ganje (Schema ift ja hoch nur wieber ein Stücf ober
ein Chcil von einem gröpern ©anjen, unb eS liegt burchauS
fein ©runb vor, mit bem gröpern Stücf anberS ¿u verfahren
als mit bem fleinern. SBürbe baS Sßrincip ber fdßtedßthinigen Tíeprpcit h^r verlaffen, fo würben Wopl gerabe
bie wichtigem, tiefer einfhncibenben, Schemate verloren gehen.
2ftan ficht nun wohl, bafj einige parlamentarifche
formen in biefe ©efchäftborbnung Iwibergenommen finb.
Slber wenn in politifhen Serfammlungcn gewiffe ben pi<w
gegebenen ähnliche (Einrichtungen beftepen, fo folien fie ge=
wohnlich ¿um Schutze ber ÜRinberheit gegen ÜJíajorifirung
�(17)
103
bie neue @e[d)aftgorbnung.
bienen, Wäljrcnb fie I)ier umgeteljrt gu bem 3wccfe gegeben
ju fein fdjeinen, bic 9)iel;rt)tit nodj mächtiger unb nnwiber=
Widj ju machen, wie fidj bie3 befonberö in bem ifyr ein=
geräumten 3ied)te ¿eigt, bie ©iScuffion, fobalb es iljr gefällt,
abjufcfntcibcn unb alfo ber ^cinber^eit bad SSort §u ent=
Sieben; bied Wirb um fo peinlicher wirten, als befanntli^
and) bie DJtbglicbteit, fiel) in gebrutften ©utadrten ober 3luf=
tlärungen ben übrigen Wiitgliebcrn bed (Foncild mitjutljeilen,
Weber für einzelne, nodj für ganje ©ruppen von Vifdjöfen
gegeben ift.
3n Politiken Vcrfammlungen tonnen Vcfdjlüffe gefaxt,
felbft ©efe^e gegeben werben burep einfache Wfjrljeit, ba
feine ber folgeubcn Parlamente ober Kammern burdj bie
Vefcblüffc unb ©efe^e ber frühem gebunben ift. $ebe tarnt
gu jeber .Seit eine Satzung ihrer Vorgängerinnen äitbern
ober abrogiren. 5lber bie bogmatifdjen Vefdjlüffe eines
©oncilS follen, wenn cS wirflid) ein bfumcnifcheS ift, für
alle $eiten unantaftbar unb unwiberruflidj gelten.
VorauSfichtlid) wirb bei ben nun folgeubcn 2lbftimmungen
bic Wjrljcit bicfcS Sonetts nidjt etwa eine flüffige, aufunb abwogenbe fein, fie wirb nidjt wcdjfcln mit ben ^u
faffenben Vcfdtfüffen, fonbern fie wirb fidj, mit geringen
Schwankungen ber 3al?i, in ihrer ¿ufammenfe^ung Wcfcnt=
lid) glcid; bleiben, ©enn cd ift bekannt, bay bic ©Teilung
ber Vifdjöfe in eine Wjrhcit unb eine Vänberheit fidj .
gleich von Anfang an fdjon bei ber 2öal;t ber ©cputationen,
unb el;c nod) eine einzige Slbftimmung ftattgefunben, fdjarf
unb entfliehen l)erauSgeftcllt l;at. So mufjte eS kommen,
Weil in ber ftrage von ber päpstlichen Unfehlbarkeit fid)
2*
�104
Döllinger,
(18)
atsbatb ein burcpgrcifenber unb principictler ©egenfa^ ergab, I
unb man fofort erfannte, baff biefe §rage bie £auptan=
gelegenpeit ber Serfammlung bilbe, nnb alle anbcrn von
ipr beijerrfdjt würben. @g ftept ¿u erwarten, baff bie
Ülnpänger ber Unfeplbarfeitgtpeorie bie Sorlagcn, fowic fie
aub ben Rauben ber Deputationen pervorgepeu, auep un=
bebenfiief) votiren werben; benn für fie ift gang folge
*
rieptig 9llleg maffgebenb, wag vom romifcpcit Stuple
aubgept, unb bafür ift aubreiepenb geforgt, baff in ben
Deputationen, welchen jept über alte auf bie Serbe ffcrung
ber Scpcmate begügtietjen Anträge bie umfaffcnbfte unb in
*
appcllable (Gewalt übertragen ift, nur eine Slnficpt fiep
geltenb maepen fann. (Sin Slict auf bab ^erfonal ber
wieptigften Deputation, de fide, genügt. Sor allein finbet
fiep ba ber Utömcr (iarboni, ber fepon in ber Sorbcrcit
*
(
*Sommiffion
ungb
bag Dogma ber pdpftlicpcn Unfeplbartcit
in einer eigenen Dent'fcprift empfoplen unb in feiner (Som
*
miffion pat anncpmen taffen. Sieben ipm ber ^cfuit Steinb,
fobann bie berebten Slawen Dccpampb von SJccepeln, Spal
*
biitg von Saltimore, ißie von Ißoiticrg, Scbocpowbfi, «fpaffun
ber Slrmcnier, be ipreuv bon Sitten; von Dcutfcpcn SJiar
*
tin, Seneftrcp, ©affer von Sri,reu, ¿wei Spanier, brei
Sübanierifauer, brei Italiener, ein ^rlänbcr, enblicp Simor
Qicgnicr unb Scparpman.
Seit 1800 ^apreu pat eg in ber jtirepe alb ©runb
*
gegolten, baff Decrete über beit ©tauben unb bie ßepre
nur mit einer, wenigfteng moralifepen, Stimmencinpcllig
*
feit votirt werben foUten. Diefcr ©runbfap ftept mit bem
ganzen Spftem ber tatpolifepeu Svircpc im engften 3u=
�(19)
bie neue ©cfdjäftöorbnung.
105
fammeuhaitg. ES ift fein IBeifpicl eines Oognta Mannt,
welches bürd; eine einfache Stimmenmehrheit unter bem
SBiberfpruche einer Wuberheit befchloffen unb barauf hin
cingcführt worben wäre.
Um bieS flar 311 machen, mufi ich mir Dtaurn für
eine furje theologifche, aber hoffentlich allgemein i?erftänb=
liehe, Erörterung erbitten.
Sie Kirche Ij^t ein ihr 13011 Slufang an übergebenes
Oepofitum geoffenbartcr Sehre 311 bewahren unb ju ver=
walten. * Sie empfängt feine neuen Offenbarungen, unb
)
fie macht feine neuen ElaubenSartifel. Unb wie mit ber
Kirche felbft, fo ift cS auch mit bem allgemeinen Eoncil.*
)
**
*') Sie ©ijeologie bat fidj in ber Gnttvicfluiig tiefer fragen an=
gefcbloffen an bie allgemein als claffifdj unb völlig correct angenom
mene Sdjrift beö SSincentiuö von Serins, baS Gommonitorium, baS
fdjon um baö 3aljr 434 erfdjien. Stuf biefe bejiefye id) mid) baber
in bem folgenben.
**) So fagt ber Sifdjof gif t) er von Dtodjefter, ber für ben ißrimat
bes? Zapfte« fein geben opferte, in feiner Streitfdjrift gegen i'utber
(Opera, ed. Wirceburg. 1597, p. 592) mit Berufung auf ben gleiten
Slubfprud) be¡3 ©uns ScotuS: In eorum (beS Goncils mit bem Zapfte)
arbitrio non est situm, ut quiequam tale vel non tale faciant, sed
spiritu potius veritatis edocti, id quod revera prídem de substantia
fidei fuerat jam declarant, esse de substantia fidei. Hub ber 9Jii=
norit ©a ven port, Svstema fidei, p. 140: secundum receptam,
tam veterum, quam modernorum doctorum sententiam ecclesia non
potest agere ultra revelationes antiquas, nihil potest hodie decla
ran de fide, quod non habet talem identitatem cum prius revelatis.------------ Unde semper docet Scotus: Quod illae con
clusiones solum possunt infallibiliter declarari et determinan per
ecclesiam, quae sunt necessario inclusae in articulis cre
dit is. Si igitur per accidens conjunguntur, vel si solum proba-
�106
S? cUinger,
(20)
Das ©oncil ift bie IRepräfcntatioii, bie 3ufammciifaffung
bcr gangen Äircbe; bic Sifcpöfc auf bcmfclbcn finb bie
©efanbten unb ©efcpäftSträger aller Äircpcn bcr fat^oii=
fepen SSelt; fic paben im tarnen bcr ©efammtpeit 311
erklären, waS biefe ©efammtpeit bcr ©laubigen über eine
rcligiöfe §ragc bentt unb glaubt, was fic als Ucbcrlicferung
empfangen pat. Die finb alfo als tßrocuratoren angufepen,
Welcpe bic ipnen gegebene ©ollmacpt burepanS niept überfepreiten bürfen.
)
*
Späten fie cS, fo würbe bic Jtircfjc,
bereu Übertreter fie finb, bic von ipnen aufgcftellte Sepre
unb Definition niefjt bestätigen, viclinepr als etwas iprem
gläubigen Dewu^tfein $rembcS jurüefweifeu.
Die ÜSifepöfe auf bem (Soncil finb alfo vor allem
3engen, fie fagen aus unb conftatiren, was fie unb ipre
©emeinben als ©laubcnSlepre empfangen unb bisper be=
' fannt paben; fie finb aber auep Dlicptcr, nur bafj ipre
biliter sequuntur ex articulis, fidem non attingent per quascumque
(leterminationes, quia Concilia non possunt identificare, quae sunt
ex objecto diversa, nec necessario inferre ea, quae solum appa
renter, seu probabiliter sunt inclusa in articulis creditis.
•) Concilium non est ipsamet ecclesia, sed ipsam tantum
repraesentat ; — — id est episcopi illi qui concilio adsunt, legati
mittuntur ab omnibus omnium gentium catholicarum ecclesiis, qui,
ex nomine totius universitatis, déclarent, quid ipsa universitas
sentiat et quid traditum acceperit. Itaque ejusmodi legati omnium
ecclesiarum sunt veluti procuratore«, quibus nefas esset procura
tionem sibi crcditam tantillum excedere. Unde constat, quod si
quingenti episcopi, ut videre est in exemplis Ariminensis, et Constantinopolitanae contra imagines coactae synodi, suam de fide
communi declaranda procurationem tantillum excederent, universa
ecclesia, cujus sunt tantummodo procuratores et simplex reprae-
�(21)
bie neue (ScfdjäftSorbnung.
107
richterliche ©cwalt über ben ©tauben nicht über ben 23e=
reich ihrcö ^cugenthumS ijinau^efyeit barf, vielmehr burefj
biefeS forttvährenb bebingt unb umfehrieben ift 91(3 (Ritter
haben fie baS ©efefc (bie ©laubcnSlchre) nicht erftgu machen,
fonbern nur gn interpretiren unb anjuwcitbeii. Sie flehen
unter bem öffentlichen (Rechte ber Äirche, an irelchcrrt fie
nichts ju äitbcrn vermögen. Sie üben ihr (Richtcramt,
crftenS: inbem fie bie von ihnen abgetegten $cugniffe
unter einanber prüfen unb vergleichen unb bereu Tragweite
erwägen; jweitenS, inbem fie nach gewiffenhafter Prüfung:
ob an einer Sehre bie brei unentbehrlichen (öebingungen ber
Univcrfalität ber (perpetuität unb beS ©onfenfuS (ubique,
semper, ab ómnibus) ¿utreffen; ob alfo bie Sehre als
bie allgemeine Sehre ber ganzen Äirche, als wirtlicher (öe=
ftanbthcil beS göttlichen ©epofitumS, allen gegeigt unb ihr
(Betenntnifj jebein (griffen aufcrlegt Werben fönne.* $hre
)
sentatio, definitionem factam ab illis ratam non haberet, imo re
pudiarci. Oeuvres de Fénélon, Versailles 1820, II, 361.
*) ©o ber ^efuit 23 a g o t in feiner Institutio Theologica de
vera religione. Paris 1645, p. 395: Universitas sine duabus aliis,
nimirum antiquitate et consensione stare non potest. Quod autem
triplici illa probatione confirmatur, est haud dubie ecclesiasticum
et catholicum. Quod si universitatis nota deficit et nova aliqua
quaestio exoritur, novaque contagio ecclesiam commaculare incipit,
tunc hac universitate praesentium ecclesiarum deficiente recurrendem est ad antiquitatem. Notai enim Vincent, posse aliquam
haereseos contagionem occupare multas ecclesias sicut constat de
Ariana ; adeo ut aliquando plures ecclesiae et episcopi diversarum
nationum Ariani quam Catholici reperirentur. Et quantumvis
doc rina aliqua latissime pateat, sitamen novam esse constat, haud
dubie erronea est, nec enim est apostolica, nec per successionem
�108
©ötttnger,
(22)
Prüfung I;at fid) bemnacf; fowol)l über bie Vergangenheit als
bie Gegenwart 311 erftrecfen. <5o ift toon bcm SImte ber
Vifcßöfc auf Goncilien jebe SöiUtür, jebcS blofj fubjective
Gutbünten auSgefcljtoffen. GS würbe ba frevelhaft unb
verberblich fein, benn ba bie itirc^c feine neuen Dffenbarungen
empfangt, feine neuen Glaubenöartifcl macht, fo bann unb
barf auch ein Goncil bie Subftan^ beS Glaubens nicht
aitbern, nichts bavon Wegnchmen unb nichts hin8uFll9en‘
Gin Goncilium macht alfo bogmatifchc Decrete nur über
Dinge, welche fchon in ber Kirche, als burch Schrift unb
Drabition bezeugt, allgemein geglaubt würben, ober welche
)
*
als eoibente unb flarc Folgerungen in beit bereits geglaubten
unb gelehrten Grunbfätjen enthalten finb. SBenit aber
et traditionem ad nos usque pervenit. Deinde, ut notat idem Vincentius, antiquitas non potest jam seduci. Verum enimvero quia
et ipse error antiquus esse potest: idcirco cum consulitur vetustas,
in ea quaerenda est consensio.
*) So S^incentiuS: Hoc semper nec quidquam dliud Conciliorum decretis catholica perfecit ecclesia, nisi ut quod a majoribus sola traditione susceperat, hoc deinde posteris per scripturae
chirographum consignaret. Commonit. cap. 32. ©er ©ribentirtifdje
©Ijeologe 23 eg a, ap. Davenport p.9: Concilia generalia hoc tantum
habent, ut veritates jam alias, vel in seipsis, vel in suis principiò
a Deo, ecclesiae vel SS. Patribus revelatas vel per scripturas vel
traditionem prophetarum et apostolorum turn declarent, turn confirment et sua autoritate claras et apertas et absque ulla ambigu.tate ab omnibus Catholicis tenendas tradant. Addit: et ad hoc
dico: praesentia Spiritus sancii illustrantur, primo ut infallibiles
declarent veritates ecclesiae revelatas, et secundo, ut ad terminando
dubia in ecclesia suborta, extirpandosque errores et abusus infab
libiliter etiam ex revelatis colligant populo Christiano credenda et
usurpanda in fide et moribus.
�(23)
bie neue Oefdiäftborbnung.
109
eine Meinung Ba^unbcrte lang ftetS auf Sßiberfpritd)
gefloßen unb mit allen tl)eoiogifd)en SBaffen beftritten
Worben, alfo ftetS minbeftens unfid)er gewefen ift, fo tarnt
fie nie, and; burd; ein ©oncilium nidjt, sur ©ewif^eit,
baö Ijeifjt jur ©ignitat einer göttlich geoffenbarten £efyre
erhoben werben, ©aljer ber gewöbnlid)c 9luf ber SSäter auf
ben ©oncilien nad) ber Einnahme unb 3)erfüitbigung eines
bogmatifd)cn ©ecretS: haec fides Patrum.
Soll alfo j. 33. att bie Stelle ber früher geglaubten
unb gelehrten Srrtijumsfrciljeit ber gaitjen ftirdje bie Uit=
fehlbarfeit eines ©injigen gefeilt werben, fo ift baS feine
©ntwidlung, feine ©rplication beó vorher implicit @eglaub=
ten, feine mit logifdjer ^olgeridjtigteit fid) ergebenbe ©on=
fequenj, fonbern einfach baS gerabe ©cgcntljeii ber früheren
fiebre, bie bamit auf ben Jiopf gcftellt würbe, ©erabe wie
es im politifd)en ßebeit feine fyortbiibung ober ©ntwicflung,
fonbern einfad) ein Umfturj, eine Revolution wäre, wenn
ein bisher freies ©emeinwefen b^id) unter baS 3od)
eines abfolut I)errfd)enben Wlonard)cn gebracht würbe.
©ie Beit, in welcher ein ofumenifdjeó ©oncit über ben
©laubeit ber (griffen beräth, ift alfo fletó eine $eit ber
lebhafteren ©rweefung beS religiöfen SßewufjtfeinS, eine „ßeit
ber abjulegenben Beugniffe unb ber offenen ©rflarungen
für alle treuen Söhne ber Jtird)e, ©eiftlicfw wie Saien,
gewefen. Rian glaubte, wie bie ©efdjidjte ber Ytirc^e be=
weist, allgemein, bafj man gerabe burd; folcfje Äunbgebungen bent ©oitcil feine Rufgabe erleichtere, unb nicf)t bie
33äter baburd) ftöre ober hemme. Beugnifj ablegeu, 2Dünfd;e
�110
SöHinger,
(24)
auófpredfcn, auf bie 23cbürfniffe ber 5tir(f)c fyinwcifen, tann
unb barf jcbcr, aucf) ber £aie.
)
*
@anj bcfonbcrS wenn cS fid) um bie (Sinfüíjrung
eines neuen £)ogma íjanbelt, welkes etwa, von einer Seite
fycr gcforbcrt, bcm SSewujjtfcin ber (Staubigen fremb ift
unb ifjneit ais cinc Neuerung crfcfjciut, bann ift ber fidj
cr^cbenbe ißroteft ber ßaicn ein ebenfo gerechter als not^=
wenbiger, unb unvermciblidjcS 3eu9u^ ^cr ^Inlfäuglitfjteit
an ben ifyncu überlieferten (Stauben, uub fie erfüllen bamit
cine lßflid;t gegen bie J^ircfje2luf bcm (íoncil fclbft aber beweist bcr SBibcrfprudj
ben cinc Slnjaljl bcr ¡Sifdwfc gegen eine als Dogma ¿u
vertunbcnbe Meinung ergebt, bafj in ben von ifyncn rcpra=
fentirtcn Xíjciífirdjen biefe Meinung nidft für waljr, nicfjt
für göttlid) geoffenbart gehalten worben ift, unb aud) je|t
nidjt bafür gehalten wirb. ¡Damit ift aber fetjon cnt=
fdfieben baf$ biefer Veljre ober Meinung bie brei wefent=
licken ©rforberniffe bcr Univcrfalität, bcr ißetpetuitat unb
*) (So fagt ber Carbinol dieginalb Sßole, einer ber ißräfibeitten
beé Xribentinifcfjen Concité, in feinem 23ud>e De Concilio, 1562,
fol. 11: Patet quidem locus omnibus et singulis exponendi, si quid
vel sibi vel ecclesiae opus esse censeant, sed decernendi non om
nibus patet, verum iis tantum, quibus rectionem animarum ipse
unicus pastor et rector dedit. — ¡papft DHfotauö I. bemerft, baf?
bie Äaifer an ben Concilien tlfeiigenommen haben, roenn oom G5lau=
ben getjanbett loorben fei. Ubinam legistis, imperatores anteces
sores vestros synodalibus conventibus interfuisse? nisi forsitan in
quibus de fide tractatum est, quae universitatis est, quae omnium
communis est, quae non solum ad clericos, verum etiam ad Laicos
et ad omnes omnino pertinet Christianos. -¡Diefe Stelle fanb auch
in (Sratianö Secret Aufnahme.
�(25)
bie neue (^efcf)äftöorbnung.
111
beg (Sonfcnfng abgeben, baß fic alfo auch nicht ber ganzen
Mrebe alb göttliche ^Offenbarung aufgebrungen werben barf.
©arum fyat man eg in ber Äirdje ftctg für notl^
wenbig eraclßet baff, fobalb eine nur einigermaßen beträcht
liche Slnjahl von Sifchöfen einem von ber Mehrheit etwa
vorgcfchlagencn ober beabsichtigten ©ecret wiberfpracb, biefeg
©ecret beifeite gelegt warb, bie ©efinition unterblieb, ©ie
wahrhafte Äatholicität einer Sehre foll evibent unb un=
Zweifelhaft fein, fie ift eg aber nicht, fobalb bag ^eugniß
wenn auch einer Wnbcrzahl ben löewcig liefert, baß ganje
3l6thcilungcn ber ätirebe biefe Sehre nicht glauben unb nicht
betennen.
©arum war bei jebem (Soncil bie Hauptfrage: „Sinb
bieOlaubengbecrete von allen -Dlitgliebcrn genehmigt worben?"
Sogleich auf bem crften allgemeinen Goncil 311 Dlicaa, wo
unter 318 IBifcböfen julcßt nur ¿wei fiep ber Unterfchrift
weigerten. $u (Sbatcebon zögerte man fo lange mit ben
©ntfeheibungen, ließ fiep immer wicber auf neue (5rörter=
ungen ein, big eiiblid; alle 23cbcnfcn, welche befonberg bie
illvrifchcn unb bie paläftinenfifchen Sifcböfe gegen bag
Schreiben Seo’g anfänglich hc9tcn, gehoben waren. 9iod)
ehe Ä'aifer Jarcian bie Sßnobe entließ, brang er auf eine
(ntlärung: ob wirtlich alíe SBifcfwfc (eg waren über 600)
ber (Slaubcngbefinition guftimmten, wag beim auch alle
bcrcitwilligft bejahten, unb worauf ^oapft Seo felbft (Sott
banfte baß fein Schreiben „nach allen 3rüCifeIR unb ®c=
benten bod) cnblicß burcf) bie unwibcrlegliche 3uf^nnnun9
beg gefammten Gpiffopatg" beftätigt worben fei. So ver=
fieberten and) auf bem felgten allgemeinen Goncil bie
�112
S?óliin<jer,
(26)
iöifc^öfc auf bie Jyrage beb Äaiferb: baß bie bogmatifc^e
(Sntfd)eibuug unter Zuftimmung aller aufgcftcllt worben
fei. Sabfelbe gefchal) auf bem fiebenten im Zaljre 787.
Unb wicberum mclbcte Ä'arl ber ©roße von bem (Sondi
ju ^ranffurt 794 ben fpanifd)cn 53ifd)öfen: alleb fei gefdjel)en,quatenusSancta omnium unanimitas decornerete.
3n Srient gab ^ßapft Sßiub IV ben Legaten bic 2Bei=
fungi nicl)tb entfcljeiben ju laffen wab nid)t allen Tätern
genehm fei. (Siner ber bort bcfiitblicfycn Sinologen, ^la^ba
bc dlnbraba, berichtet: mehrmals Ijabe man ein Secret
Söocbcn, SDÌonate lang uneiitfcbicben gclaffcn, weil einige
wenige 23ifd)öfe wiberftrebten ober IBcbentcn äußerten; erft
bann, wenn enblid) nach laugen unb forgfältigen 2?eratt)=
ungen (Sinftimmigfeit ber Später erhielt worben, ljabe man
bab Secret publicirt. $ai)Va führt mehrere 23cifpiele ba=
von an.
)
*
Hub Soffnct bemerft über bic 33orfc()rift ^ius’
IV : bieß fei eine treffliche dìegei um bab Söaljre vom
Zweifelhaften 311 fd)eibcn.
idlle Sheologen machen cb jur 53cbingung ber Detu=
mcuicität eineb (Soncilb baß völlige À reib eit auf bem=
felbcit hctrfdje. Freiheit beb diebenb, Freiheit beb Stimmens,
diiemaub, fagt Sonimeli), barf jurüefgewiefen werben ber
♦) Defensio fidei Tridentinae, f. 17 : Cum quindecim fere aut
viginti dubitare se ajebant, ne vero quiequam praeter Conciliorum
vetustum morem concluderetur, horum paucorum dubitatio plurimoruni impetum retardavit, atque effecit, ut res in aliam sessionem
dilata, omnium fere calculis tandem definiretur. 9Jian vergi. bort
baö Weitere. ‘Ulan fielet, bafe ju Orient bie Uebeineugung l^evrfc^te,
es muffe alleò in ber QBeife ber alten doncilien bel;anbelt unb ent=
fdjieben — menigliene bie mefentlidie {\orm berfelben bcibetjalten werben.
�(27)
bie neue $c|d)äftöorbmin3.
113
gehört werben will. ^id;t bloß phVÍWr $wang würbe
bie 23efd)lüffe eines ßoncils fraftloS unb wertlos machen.
£)ie Freiheit, biefe LebcnSluft eines wahren (Solicits, wirt»
and; burdj bie gar mannigfaltigen formen in benen mo=
ralifSer^wang cintritt, ober bcrWnfd; fidj willig fiiedjtcn
lä£t (3. 25. burd) bie bcrfdjiebcnen Strten ber Simonie),
jerftört, unb bie Legitimität beS (Soncils baburd) aufgehoben.
£ouruelp nennt als bie auf Spnoben wirffamen unb bie
conciliarifdje Freiheit aufhebenben LeibenfSaften fynrdjt,
Stellengier, ®clbgci¿ unb äpabfudjt. *
)
2llS ber grofje Slbfall 311 Seleucia unb Bimini gleis
zeitig ftattfanb, als au fed)Shunbert 23ifchöfc baS gemcin=
fame Wenntnif) bcrläugiieteii unb Preisgaben, ba war es
„©eifteSfSwädje unb Sd)cu vor einer mühfeligen dicife"
(partim imbecillitate ingenii, partim taedio peregrinationis evicti, Sulp. Sever. 2, 43), was fic überwanb.
©ic blofic £l)atfad)e einer wenn and) noch fo ¿al)l=
reifen, bifdjöflidjcn 23erfannulling ift alfo noch lange fein
beweis ber wirtlichen Dcfumcnicität eines (Soncils; ober,
Wie bie Theologen, 3. 23. Sournclp, fid) auSbrüdcn, cS
fanu wohl öfumenifd) ber ^Berufung nad) fein, ob es biejs
aber and) bem Verlauf unb 2luSgang nach fei, baruber
fann baS (Soncil felbft nidjt eutfcpciben, faun nidjt fetber
fid; 3eugnifz geben; ba muff erft bie bod) and) nod) über
jebem (Soncil ftepcube Autorität, ober baS 3eugnifj ber
gaumen Ä'ircpc, als cntfcfjeibeiib unb beftätigenb pinjutreten.
Sie (Soncilien als fold;c haben feine SScrheifgung — aueb
J De ecclesia I, 384.
�114
Töüingcr,
(28)
in bcn gewöhnlich angeführten SSorten be§ äperrn von ben
„jwei ober brei" femmt eben alles auf baS „in feinem
tarnen Sßerfammeltfein" an, unb bieff enthält, wie alle
Geologen annehmen, mehrere. Skbingnngen, bie 3. 5).
Stournelt) aufführt.
)
*
?(ber bie Äirchc hat
2?erhei§=
ungen, unb fie liutfz erft fiel) überzeugen, ober bie @ewif^
beit befi^cn, baf) V^Vfifchcr ober moralifefter 3wang, fvurebt,
ßeibenfehafteu, SJerführungötünftc — Singe wie fie ¿u
Diimini unb noch gar oft gewirtt h^n — nicht auf bem
(Soncil übermächtig geworben finb, baf) alfo bie wahre
Freiheit bort gcljerrfcht bube. $n biefem (Sinn fagt 23of=
fuet von einem ötumenif^en (Soncit: ber 23ifcböfc auf bemfclben müßten fo viele unb aus fo verfeiuebenen Säubern,
unb bie 3iiftimmung ber übrigen fo evibent fein,
*) Quaeres: quibus conditionibus promisit Christus se conciliis adfuturum? Resp. Ista generali: Si in nomine suo congre
gata fuerint; hoc est servata suft'ragiorum liberiate; invocato coelesti auxilio; adhibita humana industria et diligentia in conquirenda
ventate.------- Deus scilicet, qui omnia suaviter disponit ac mo
derato, via supernaturali aperta et manifesta non adest conciliis,
sed occulta Spiritus subministratione. (Deus) permittit, episcopos
omnibus humanae infirmitatis periculis subjacere et aliquando
succumbere: ncque enim unquam promisit, se a conciliis ejusmodi
pericula certo semper pro pulsaturum; sed hoc unum, se’iis semper
adfuturum, qui in suo nomine congrcgarentur. Congregari autem
in suo nomine censentur, quoties eas observant leges et condi
tions, quas voluit observari. Tournely, praelectiones theologicae deDeo et divinis attributis, I, 165. Journet») fiitjrt benfelben
(Bebauten in feinen praelectiones theologicae de ecclesia Christi,
I, 384 nod) weiter aus: (Deus) episcopos permittit omnibus hu
manae infirmitatis periculis obnoxios esse, metus scilicet, ambitionis, avaritiae, cupiditatis etc.
�(29)
bie neue ©efcbâftêorbnung.
115
baff man tlar fclje, e§ fei nidjtä aiibcreö ba gefdjeljeu,
afe baff bie Slufidft bet ganjeu SSelt jufammengetrageu
)
*
worben.
(Sollte fid; alfo geigen, baff auf bern Goucil feineoweg«
„bie fXufidjt bei ganzen tatljolifcfjcn SBelt jufammengetragen"
worben, baff vielmehr TMjrijeitebcfdüiiffc gefafft worben
feien welche mit bent ©tauben eines beträchtlichen Sfjeilö
ber Äirchc im SSibevfprud) fielen, bann würben gewifc in
ber tatlfolifdjcn SSclt bie fragen aufgeworfen werben:
£>aben nufere SSifdwfe richtig Bcuguiff gegeben bon bem
(Glauben ihrer ©iocefen? unb wenn nicht, finb fie waljr=
I;aft frei gewefen? über wie fommt es baff il;r 3cu9niB
nicht beamtet worben ift? bafc fie majorifirt worben finb?
3?on ben Antworten bie auf biefe fragen erteilt werben,
Werben bann bie ferneren Greigniffe in ber 5bird;e bebingt
♦) Et que les autres consentent si évidemment à leur assem
blée, qu’il sera clair, qu’on n’y ait fait qu’apporter le sentiment
de toute la terre. (Histoire des variations, 1. 15, n. 1OOO.) Unb
barum forbert ber WÜ ©elafiu« ju einer bene gesta synodus nidfct
nur, baß fie nad) Sdfrift unb îrabition unb nad) ben firdflidjen
«Regeln ißre Gntfdjeibungen gefaßt habe, fonbern and), baß fie von
ber ganzen ^irdje angenommen fei : quam cuncta recepit ecclesia
(Epist. 13 bei £'abbé ConcilIV, 1200 unb 1203). Unb «Rico te be^
merft gegen bie GaWiniften: Ils ont une marque évidente que le
Concile, qui se dit Universel doit être reçu pour tel, dans l’accep
tation qu’en fait l’Église. (Prétendus Réformés convaincus de
schisme. 2,7. p. 289.) ©ieftirdje gibt ben Goncilien Beugniß (nicht
etfl Autorität), fotvie fie burd) ihren biblifdjen Ganoit ben einjelnen
æüdjern ber Sibel Beugniß gibt, roäfyrenb natürlich bie innere Au
torität berfelben nicht von ber itirdje ausfließt. Sie ift auch batestis,
non autor fidei.
�116
SDöUinger, bic neue @ef<$äft$orbnung.
(30)
fein. Unb barum ift au cf) in ber ganzen Äirdjc bic bollftc
fßublicität ftetö als ju einem (Soncit gehörig gewährt worben; benn cS liegt ber gefammten djriftlidjen SBelt ijodjlicf»
baran nidjt nur ju wiffen bafj etwas bort befdjloffen wirb,
fonbernaudj ¿u wiffen wie eS befdjloffen wirb. 2ln biefem
Hßic hängt gulefct atieS, wie bie benfwürbigen ^a^re 359,
449, 754 u. f. w. beweifen. Stuf baS ßoncil »on Orient
hätte man fid) be^üglidj beS jwangSweife auf erlegten <Sdjwei=
genS nidjt berufen follen; benn erftenS würbe bort blofc
eine ^Dialjnung gegeben, unb ¿weitend betraf bie <5rinner=
ung nur bie 23etanntmadjung oon (Entwürfen, welche, was
heutzutage bei bem <5tanb ber ißreffe nidjt meljr möglich
wäre, bamals in ber $erne mit wirtlichen ^ecreten oer=
wedjfelt würben.
�
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
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2018
Publisher
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Einige worte uber die unjehlbarfeitsadresse und geschaftsordnung des concils und ihre theologische bedeutung zwei gutachtung von J. V. Dollinger
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Dollinger, J. V.
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: Munchen
Collation: p. 87-116 ; 19 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Text in German.
Publisher
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Rudolph Oldenbourg
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1870
Identifier
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G5722
Subject
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Theology
Germany
Rights
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<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (Einige worte uber die unjehlbarfeitsadresse und geschaftsordnung des concils und ihre theologische bedeutung zwei gutachtung von J. V. Dollinger), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
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application/pdf
Type
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Text
Language
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German
Conway Tracts
-
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ee26bf562dee0b2075580cf2aa0321cb
PDF Text
Text
������������������������������������
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
National life: a lecture read at the Manchester Friends' Institute on the 22nd of fourth month, 1870
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Duncan, David
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: London; Manchester
Collation: 33 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Pre-title page headed National Life with a quotation from Joseph Mazzini, 'The Duties of Man'. Pre-title page is marked from adhesive tape.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
F. Bowyer Kitto; Hale & Roworth
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1870
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
G5205
Subject
The topic of the resource
Society
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Conway Tracts
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226
LEGEND OF THE CASTLE OF NUREMBERG.
in some such way as Hugh Miller has
done in “ My Schools and Schoolmas
ters,” I shall have to linger about the
cottage I know not how long; for feel
ing, as I have said, how much is done
by the time the boyhood is over and
the youth begins — if such a distinction
can be made — I can see now how
[March,
many things must have been imM
mately at work beside that sweet, good
home, and what was there. Manners
and customs, traditions, stories, reli
gion, superstition, scene, and incident,
all had their place in the lad’s life, and
must have their place in the man's
story — if it is ever told.
LEGEND OF THE CASTLE OF NUREMBERG.
{From the German?)
BY MRS. E. E. EVANS.
MONGST the many legends and suffered terribly from the ravages of
historical traditions attached to wolves, until, in desperation, the in
the old castle of Nuremberg, is habitants assembled in force and
a
curious story of an event which took drove them out of their haunts, kill
place about the middle of the thir ing meantime as many as possible*
teenth century. The castle was at Those that escaped, to the number of
that time governed by Count Frederic several hundred, retreated to the moun
III. of Hohenzollern, who lived there tains, and from thence made frequent
in princely state with his wife, the descents upon the scattered farms in
Countess Elizabeth, and their six the valleys, so that scarcely a day
children. It was a happy family. The elapsed without some person having
wedded pair lovec[ each other tenderly, been destroyed.
and took pride in the strength and
The most horrible event of this
bravery of their sons and the modest kind occurred three days before Mich
beauty of their daughters. Their re aelmas, In the forests of St. Sebald
tainers were faithful, the citizens of ’ and St. Lawrence (so named from the
the already famous city of Nuremberg two cathedrals of Nuremberg) lived a
held them in honor, the land was no class of peasants who made it their
longer disturbed by war, and through sole business to raise bees and collect
the vigilance and courage of the honey, which was in great demand,
Nurembergers the once dreaded inva as foreign sugars had not yet begun
sions of banded robbers had been to be imported. To such an extent was
brought to an end.
the pursuit carried, that the great forest
Thus peaceful and prosperous was tract was spoken of in the legal in
the existence of this noble family in struments of that period as “ the impe
the year 1264. At that period, John, rial bee-garden,” and the bee-farmers
the elder son, was eighteen and his were allowed to pay their government
brother Sigmund sixteen years old. taxes in honey. For some reason, the
They were skilled in every knightly magistrate having charge of such
accomplishment, and had already won matters issued an order for the tax to
distinction by their exertions in cer be paid three days before Michaelmas,
tain fierce encounters with the rob instead of on the day itself, when it
bers.
would really become due; and in
In the autumn of that year the vil obedience to the command, a certain
lages in the vicinity of Nuremberg bee-farmer, living on the northern
A
�HEPl
LEGEND OFTHE CASTLE OF NUREMBERG.
22]
border of St. Sebald’s forest, went
At this moment the parents of the
with his wife to Nuremberg, distant murdered children came in sight of
about seven miles, each carrying a their desolated home. A sorrowful
BB*ge wooden tub of honey bound by presentiment had caused them to
a strap across their shoulders.
hasten their steps, so that they had
As their cottage stood in a solitary accomplished the last few miles in
place, they could not leave their fam- half the time usually required; but
ily in the care of any neighbor; but the first glance assured them that they
they expected to return in six hours at were too late, and their cries of grief
furthest, and so went away without were so harrowing that the wolves ran
misgiving, having repeatedly charged away in fear.
their eldest child, Wolfgang, a bright
As if it were impossible that the
boy eight years old, to watch over still smoking bones lying before them
his brother of four and his little sister could be the remains of their beloved
of two years, and on no account to go children, the father and mother went
outside of the house—promising, if he raving into the house, and called with
should prove faithful, to reward him despairing voices: “Children, come!
with a present of some gingerbread, come, children! here are your ginger
for which it seems Nuremberg was cakes ! ” With what joy did they rush
even at that early day^ as now, cele to the door when they heard a child’s
brated. voice in reply! But it was the lament
The three children remained hap ing voice of the neighbor’s boy, now
pily together till about five o’clock in descending from the tree, who ex
the afternoon, when Wolfgang saw plained to the distracted parents the
from the window a little friend, the horrible circumstances of the death
son of a neighboring bee-farmer, ap of their darlings. After many mo
proaching the house, and was soon ments of speechless agony, the woman
coaxed by this playfellow to come out broke the deathly stillness by saying
on the green before the door. His to her husband, with the calmness of
brother soon followed, and the little insanity: “Come, Henry, let us go to
girl, not liking to be left alone, started Nuremberg and take our children
in pursuit. Suddenly two wolves ap away from the magistrate, and if he
peared. The visitor climbed quickly refuses to give them to us, we will
up a large linden tree which stood be- carry off his children and throw them
fore the house and called loudly to to the wolves!” “Alas! why did he
Wolfgang to follow him. But the dqmand the honey-tax this year before
brave boy, more anxious for his it was due! ” sighed the heart-broken
brother and sister than himself, caught father; saying which, he, without
tliSdittle girl in his right arm, seized knowing what he did, threw the dear
Rudolf with his left hand, and remains into the tub which still hung
hastened with them to the cottage upon his back, and involuntarily tot
door. Just as he was about to cross tered after his wife toward Nurem
the threshold, one wolf fastened upon berg.
his shoulder, threw him down, and
As soon as they reached the city, the
immediately buried its sharp teeth in miserable pair rushed to the magis
his vitals. The other wolf tore to trate’s house, demanding imperiously
pieces the little Rudolf, who till his of the guard at the door: “Where is
last breath called out incessantly: the bailiff with the children?” The
“Father! mother! oh, God!’’ After man replied insolently: “At the castle
that both the destroyers fell upon the with the Count. What do you want
sister, who had broken out into fright of him at this late hour?” The
ened crying, which was soon silenced woman flew to the castle, and sprang
in death.
up the brilliantly-lighted staircase into
�228
LEGEND OF THE CASTLE OF NUREMBEttk
the noble hall, where the Count and a
company of his favorite frjends, among
whom was the magistrate, were cele
brating the eighteenth birthday of his
elder son, John.
A tender and thoughtful mood had
taken possession of all minds; for just
before the Watchman upon the tower
had announced, with a blast of his
trumpet, the beginning of the last
hour before midnight, the eventful
moment when, eighteen years before,
the Countess, wavering between life
and death, had given successful birth
to her first child. It was then that
the bereaved mother darted amidst
the group of boys and girls playing
in the hall, snatched up one child
after another, and cried out, as she
sought in vain for the familiar little
faces: “Emma, Rudolf, Wolfgang
—where are you, then?” Every one
asked: “Who is she?” “Whom does
she seek?” But she paid no atten
tion to their questions, and the dread
ful tragedy was first guessed from the
words of the bee-farmer, who now
came into the hall, threw the bloody
bones upon the floor, and said:
“There, my noble lords, take your
last tax from me, a poor unhappy
father! ”
This event made a deep impression
upon the family and their guests. The
two young noblemen, moved by the
purest sympathy, declared their inten
tion to summon the whole community
to go out in a body and free the poor
farmers from the frightful plague of
wolves. Before the company broke
up, a wolf-hunt was agreed upon for
the next day; and, before sunrise, the
young counts rode away at the head
of thirty experienced huntsmen and
more than a hundred vigorous serv
ants, who led between twenty and
thirty fierce hunting-dogs in leash.
The precaution had been taken to
close all the forest paths; and by sun
set eighteen wolves, besides six boaas,
five deer, and ten foxes, were killed.
The hunt raged fiercest around the
cottage of the unfortunate bee-farmer.
[March!
He had himself conducted Count John
to the spot, and at the sight of his
children’s toys, lying scattered around
the door, had burst into loud lamen
tations. The cheeks of the Count also
were moistened with manly tears; and
with his eyes raised to heaven, he
swore not to rest until he had sum
ceeded in extirpating all dangerowl
wild beasts from the forest. Just then
he saw two wolves, maddened by hun
ger, licking the spot which had yester
day been wet with the children’s blood.
Without horse or spear, for he had left
both by the linden tree beyond the
wolves, he rushed with the speed of
an arrow upon the beasts, and with a
single stroke of his drawn sword cut
off the head of one of them. The
other sprang .upon him, and had
already fastened its eager jaws in the
side of the brave youth, when one
of his dogs, which had followed him
slowly, flew at the throat of the wolf,
so that, occupied with its own danger,
it could not give the deadly bite. With
a desperate effort, the monster flung
off the faithful dog, and then sprang
upon the Count in a rage; but as
quickly was John’s sharp sword bur
ied in the beast’s entrails.
One may imagine the horror of Sig
mund when, the sudden noise having
called him out of the house, he com-l
prehended his brother’s recent peril;
and his joy when, on carefully exam
ining the wounded side, he found it
merely scratched and only slightly
bloody.
The news of the success of the ex
pedition soon reached the city, and
the Council began at once to make
preparations for a worthy reception
of the victors. Toward eight o’clock
in the evening, the hunters passed
within the walls through the Thier-*
gaertner gate. At the head of the
procession rode the bee-farmer upon
a snow-white horse from the castle
stables, and with bow and quiver
shrouded in crape. Behind him fifty
servants bore the slaughtered beasts
upon poles on their shoulders; while
�1870.]
AACAAT? OF THE CASTLE OF NUREMBERG.
fifty more walked on both sides with
blazing torches in their hands. Next
rode the young knights, John and Sigmund, upon two black horses; and be
hind them, three abreast, came thirty
noble archers. Lastly, by command
of the Council, twenty-five armorers in
glittering armor, and carrying torches,
brought up the rear.
When the procession had reached
St. Sebald’s Church, the chief magis
trate and two lords of the Council
thanked the brave young men in the
name of the inhabitants for deliver
ance from trouble and danger, and
invited them to supper in the great
saloon of the City Hall, which had
been duly adorned for the feast. As
the huntsmen entered the saloon they
were met by the daughters of the no
blest houses of Nuremberg, who placed
upon, the head of each a. garland of
flowers, to the sound of trumpets and
kettle-drums. Around the table were
already seated the parents of both the
crowners and the crowned, and at the
Jiead were the Count and Countess.
One can easily imagine the joyful
astonishment of the young men.
Feasting and dancing continued-till
‘midnight, and before the company
separated a second wolf-hunt was
arranged for the next day — Mich
aelmas.
By five o’clock the next morning the
two young knights were ready to re
pair to the rendezvous of their hunter
friends, when the Countess Elizabeth
came into their chamber with troubled
looks and eyes red with weeping, and
besought them, by their filial love, to
remain that day at home and not go
even outside of the castle. This request of their beloved mother greatly
surprised her sons. They declared
that only extraordinary reasons could
justify them in breaking their promise
to join the hunt, and wished to know
whether such reasons existed.
“A thousand reasons,” answered
the Countess, “and yet all based upon
a single dream.”
“I thought so, dear mother,” inter
16
229
rupted John; “ I feared that the knowl
edge of the wound in my side would
bring you bad dreams, and therefore
I wished to keep it secret.”
But the Countess solemnly replied:
“No, my son, so clearly and circum
stantially did no soul ever dream
through merely human causes. I saw
your dead bodies, torn with many
wounds, carried up the hill to the
castle. I tremble when I think of
that sight 1 ”
The two sons pressed their mother’s
hands with affectionate warmth, and
assured her that, in obedient respect
to the anxiety of a good mother, they
would keep out of danger, so far as
might be consistent with honor.
"Do you see, mother,” continued
Sigmund in a cheerful tone, “your
dream has already fulfilled its pur
pose, and you would not be willjjig to
bear the disgrace of having your sons
break their word and become a deris
ion to their companions through over
solicitude concerning the images of a
dream 1 ” .
After a moment of speechless sor
row, the mother fell hastily upon the
necks of her sons, covered their faces
with kisses and tears, and cried, with
a loud voice, “Farewell, my children I
God protect you, — I can do nothing
more! ” and hastened out of the room.
But, while still upon the threshold, she’
called back to them, with apparent
cheerfulness," Remember, be prudent;
and, above all things, do not forget to
take the two dogs with you.”
AVith imploring voice, John an
swered : “ Pray excuse us from taking
the dogs; it is agreed upon that they
shall be left at home.. They spoiled
our sport several times yesterday, and
excepting the service which one of
them rendered me, and which greater
vigilance on my part will henceforth
make unnecessary, they were of no
advantage. On that account, I left
them yesterday at the tower in the
suburbs.”
But the Countess said: “I com
mand you, as your mother, to take
�230
LEGEND OF THE CASTLE OF NURENHhS®^
the two faithful hounds, which have
twice saved your lives.”
The youths, though greatly vexed,
replied: “We will obey you.”
After she had left them, they went
thoughtfully down the castle stairs,
mounted their horses in silence, bade
two servants go before and release
Drusus and Nero, their two watch
dogs, and then rode slowly down the
castle hill and over the river Pegnitz
to the tower. On arriving there, they
ordered the servants to go on with the
dogs toward the gate, and charged
them, with unwonted earnestness, to
be very careful. While the keeper of
the tower addressed a few necessary
words to John, Sigmund rode to the
window, took from the sill a piece of
chalk, and wrote over the door: “In
obedience to our dear mother, we came
here against our will to-day, Michael
mas, 1264.—Sigmund.” And John,
at his brother’s request, though laugh
ing all the while at the singular fancy,
signed his name, “John,” underneath.
As the young knights rode away
from the tower, following their serv
ants along the road, they heard
suddenly, at some distance, a fright
ful scream; and in a few moments
more than a hundred men had gath
ered in a crowd. The young men
hurried on at a quick trot, and learned
'with horror, at the German House,
that their dogs had torn to pieces the
child of a scythe-smith in the neigh
borhood. It appeared that when the
servants had reached the spot, they
met the child, whom his mother, in
her anxiety to protect him from the
cold morning air, had covered with a
wolf-skin. The little boy had been to
buy dainties in a shop where hiS
mother had often fed him with sweets,
in spite of the anxious protestations
of the father. He had just emptied
his pockets, when the servants, with
the two fierce dogs, passed by the Ger
man House. Scarcely had the dogs
sighted the wolf-skin upon the child,
when, with one strong bound, they
freed themselves from the servants’
[March,
hands, and rushed with their sharp
teeth upon the unfortunate little one]
whom they had mistaken for a wolf.
As John and Sigmund passed
through the crowd standing around
the dead body, they met the careless
servants, who now held the dogs in
leash ; and springing from their horses,
they drew their swords and with one
blow killed both the animals^-whieM
in their irrational zeal, had believed
that they had done their duty, and had
come whining joyfully around their
enraged masters.
They then took the rope from1 the
dogs’ necks, tied the hands of the
thoughtless servants behind their
backs, and sent them to the castle
prison, under the charge of a body of
smiths armed with axes and ham
mers.
Afterwards, John knelt down beside
the mother, who had fallen on the
ground by her murdered child, took
her hand, and, weeping himself, tried
to comfort her.
While the eyes of nearly all the
by-standers testified to their sympa
thetic emotion, a meddlesome peasants
(whose neglected crops had once been
trampled down by the Count’s pack*
of hounds) pressed his way amidst the
throng and cried out: “Did I not tell
you so? Behold the wolves which
killed the bee-farmer’s children!”
These words, envenomed with the
poison of hell, fell fruitfully upon the
black soil of ignoble minds. The ear
lier awakened discontent increased a
curses filled the air ; and before the in
famous beginnings could be checked,
murderous hands laid John dead at
the feet of the despairing mother.
Sigmund, who had thrown himself
upon his brother, in the vain hope to
shield him from his fate, was snatched
away by a compassionate peasant, and
placed upon his horse, when he in
stinctively rode away from the scene
of danger; but he was speedily brought
back, and after a few moments’ delay
was murdered by his pursuers.
Then the bloody weapons fell from
�Legend of the
castle of Nuremberg.
the hands of the desperate scythesmiths, and all at once words of remorse and mutual reproach arose —
loudest, indeed, from the lips of the
wi^ffihed man who, through his hellish speech, had kindled the fire of
tumult. Dismayed at what they had
done, the people lifted up the dead
bodies, laid them upon litters, and,
with hypocritical lamentations, turned
toward the castle, followed by a great
many inhabitants of the inner city,
who, through curiosity or a desire to
be of some use, had hastened to the
scene of horror.
■ As yet, not the slightest knowledge
erf the terrible event had penetrated to
the noble family whom it most concerned. Even while the mournful
procession was approaching, Count
Frederic sat at breakfast, making
merry over the dream which his wife
had related to him; and she, tillable
to regard the subject in the light of a
jest, walked, with the young Countess
Hedwig, of Nassau, toward one of the
bowgyindows to conceal her tears from
her jncredulous husband. Suddenly
she cried out: “Oh, heavens, what do
I see! A great crowd of men are fill
ing the market-place ! This throng,
th^ymovements, mean nothing good.
They are coming nearer—they are
weeping! Do you not see, Hedwig,
the many handkerchiefs? They are
coming, with loud cries, up the castle
hill! Frederic! Hedwig! Oh, my
dreamt I ”
The Count, startled by the cry of his
wife, hastened to her help. Eut he
stood still, as though turned to stone,
B he saw from the window the crowd
approaching, bearing two litters and
leading Sigmund’s horse. Hedwig
turned fearfully pale. At last Count
Frederic broke the dreadful silence.
“Come, Elizabeth; come, Hedwig,”
he said, with a trembling voice, “let
us go and see what we have loved so
well; in death, also, they are dear to
us! ” ' .<•
Involuntarily, Elizabeth and HedESleaned upon his arms and tottered
231
down the stairs to meet the procession
which had just entered the court.
The bearers set down their burdens
and threw back the pall. Then, first,
the father exclaimed, in heart-broken
tones, “It is they !" and, in despair,
the mother repeated, “It is they!”
Many of the spectators, those who had
known the young Counts intimately,
and others, strangers, whose hearts
were tender in the presence of afflic
tion, shared, sobbing, the grief of the
unfortunate parents. At last a young
man, son of a wealthy merchant, in
whose breast compassion and the love
of justice held equal sway, called out
to the by-standers around the litters:
“ The blood of these worthy youths
shall be avenged seven-fold upon
the murderers!” Upon this arose a
fearful curse against the guilty ones,
and more than a thousand avengers
of blood started for the suburbs to exe
cute their stern purpose without delay.
As soon as the Count had aroused
himself from his stupor of sorrow
sufficiently to comprehend the cruel
design of the departing crowd, he
hastened after them at full speed,
placed himself in their way upon the
Pegnitz bridge, and implored them
not to add to his regrets by further
bloodshed. He could only restrain
them, however, by solemnly promis
ing that he himself would immedi
ately undertake the righteous punish
ment of the criminals. “ But, noble
Count, even to-day! ” cried the leader;
“otherwise we will yet hold a night
trial.” Frederic, shuddering at these
ominous words, promised this also;
and commanded, upon the spot, that
a summons should be sent to the
neighboring towns requiring five hun
dred armed knights to join him by a
forced march.
The generous Count gave this order
purposely in a loud voice, rightly sus
pecting that the murderers were within
hearing; and they, profiting by his
clemency, fled in all haste to Donau
worth,— thus sparing the bereaved fa
ther the painful necessity of expiating
/
�SAPPHO.
232
the blood of his sons by that of more'
than a hundred heads of families.
Nor did he revenge himself by the
spoliation of their possessions, but
pacified public sentiment by laying
upon each man a yearly tax of seven
farthings, from which charge of blood
money the city of Nuremberg was re
leased by Duke Frederic V., in the
year 1386.
The memory of this horrible tragedy
haunted continually the after lives of
the unhappy parents. Elizabeth died
in 1272; and Frederic mourned in
gloomy dejection, until, in 1273, the
election of his uncle Rudolph of Hapsburg to the throne of the German
Empire drew him into political life,
and the sacred interests of his native
land filled the heart which excessive
affliction had rendered dead to domes
tic happiness. '
The ashes of John and Sigmund are
said to lie in St. James’s Church, Nu
[March,
remberg, under the altar in the chapel
to the right of the main entrance ; and
so late as the beginning of the present
century, there was to be found in the
court of the ancient “ Moonlight Inn,”
a fresco painted in three compart
ments, illustrating the events narrated '
above. The centre picture showed the
two youths as they rode to the hunt,
with their followers; that on the right
hand, the dog which tore the smith’s
child ; and that upon the left, the mur
der of one of the brothers.
But the “Moonlight Inn” of old
times has been replaced by a modern
hotel bearing the same name, but con
taining no relic of ancient fresco; the •
altar in St. James’s Church is bare of
any inscription to the lamented youths
supposed to have been buried beneath,
and only in the old castle does the tra
dition still find a local habitation for
its pathetic incidents, which are “too
strange not to be true.”
SAPPHO.
BY EDGAR FAWCETT.
ILD-EYED at dawn she crouches on the cliff;
Her lyre amid the myrtles flung; dank hair
Blown from the pallor of a face that yearns
With infinite despair.
W
Slow scarlet heightens in the pearly east;
Foam blushes on the coiling billow’s rim;
Sunward along the roseate waters, now,
Fleet sea-birds waver dim.
Leucadia sparkles to arisen day,
A lyre among its myrtles gleaming clear,
Flaunted with echoes of a farewell song
Far centuries must hear.
Beautiful Hope, that diest as Sappho died,—•
Wofully falling to as chill a wave;
Forevei- to my dark heart may there float
A death-song from thy grave!
�
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Victorian Blogging
Description
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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Legend of the Castle of Nuremberg
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Evans, E. E.
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: [California]
Collation: 226-232 p. ; 24 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Publication information from KVK.
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[s.n.]
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1870
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G5738
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Legends
Germany
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Text
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English
Conway Tracts
German History
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Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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Proceedings of the third annual meeting of the Free Religious Association, held in Boston May 26 and 27, 1870
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Free Religious Association
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An account of the resource
Place of publication: Boston, Mass.
Collation: 121, [1] p. ; 23 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway.
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John Wilson and Son
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1870
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G5173
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Free thought
Religion
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Conway Tracts
Free Religious Association
Free Thought
Freedom of Religion
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Victorian Blogging
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An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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Egotisms
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Goodman, D.
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: [s.l.]
Collation: [1]-8 p. ; 25 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. From Modern Thinker, July 1870.
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[s.n.]
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1870
Identifier
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G5728
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Positivism
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English
Conway Tracts
Positivism
Reason
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THE
from th principle of ^rulljoug^t,
By
Gm
J. Holyoake.
Honour to him, who, self-complete, if lone,
Carves to the grave one pathway all his own;
And heeding nought that men may think or say,
Asks but his soul, if doubtful of the way.
Sib E. L. Bulweb.
[thirteenth thousand.]
LONDON:
AUSTIN & Co., JOHNSON’S COURT, E.C.
PRICE
ONE
PENNY.
�TO THE READER,
Br those who decry or depreciate Freethought, it is alleged that its principles
are either base and depraving, or loose, weak, poor, and mean; that they take
no hold upon the heart and furnish no guidance, no inspiration to those who
hold them. It is necessary to show that this impression is unfounded. It is
also said by ill-informed partisans of Freethought that when they are delivered
from the slavery of Superstition, and satisfied that the Bible is a human book;
that Theism is unproved and the Future of the Soul uncertain ; that they
have nothing more to learn and nothing more to do. If this were true, Freethought would result in a fruitless self-complacency—better certainly than a
state of terror-ridden superstition—but still rising no higher than a mere doc
*
trine of comfort, fulfilling no condition of a proud and heroic progress. To
some friends, therefore, as well as to all foes, I address these papers. I seek
to show that Secularistic Freethought, apart from all Theology, is self-acting,
self-sustaining, and necessitates the improvement of individual character.
Freethought, ever-fruitful, unfolds new aspects and applications to all who
study it. To some this brief treatise may be suggestive of overlooked duties
which the profession of Freethought implies. Such trust may be ill-founded.
Yet duty is not to be measured by result? alone—the duty which clear con
viction implies, Carlyle has expressed in his noble injunction—“ Cast forth thy
act, thy word, into the ever-living, ever-working universe; it is a seed of grain,
that cannot die; unnoticed to-day, it will be found flourishing as a banyan
grove, perhaps also as a hemlock forest, after a thousand years.”
G.J.H,
�THE
LOGIC
OF
LIFE.
The French have a saying which has always appeared to me
very instructive. It is s’orienter, which signifies “ to take one’s
bearings;” or, as the late Stanislas Worcell used to paraphrase it
for me, “We must find the East for ourselves.”* To understand
this is the first thing which can do any good to twenty-nine out
of the thirty millions of the inhabitants of Great Britain. About
one million of our population, those who inherit rank or riches,
are born with the East found for them. A great number of the
middle class know how to find that point of the compass very
well; but the great body of the nation, who, as Mr. Bright says,
“ in all countries dwell in cottages;” the workers in mine, factory,
and field; to whom sectarian disputes have denied education;
who have no well-placed connections to clear the way for them;
who must toil and endure penury—to these all ignorance is danger,
all delusion is pernicious, all hope which is not justified on a
survey of their situation, is traitorous. A working man who
intends to advance must see clearly what his own position is.
This knowledge is the first step in the logic of life to him—the
key to any extrication or improvement possible to him. He who
does not know what his social position is, is ignorant; he who
does not want to know it, is imbecile ; he who despairs on account
of it when he does know it, is a coward; he who is content with
it, if it be precarious, is a slave. Contentment with the ill which
is inevitable, is fortitude; contentment where improvement is
possible, is meanness. Therefore, in all cases of adverse destiny
“ it is,” to borrow a phrase of Fielding’s, “ of no use damning the
nature of things the sole question is their possible improvement.
Strive for this without sullenness and with a buoyant heart.
Of means which depend upon the individual, and of which every
person of sagacity, of resolution, and honesty may avail himself, I
name as first, Freethought and its consequents—Truth, Indepen
dence, and Courtesy.
These are familiar words, but the full acceptation they bear ip
* Il nous faut nous orienter nous memes.
�4
THE LOGIC OF LIFE.
Four Elements distinguished.
not at all familiar. They have hitherto been used in the world
as party words. Freethought has been understood chiefly as
opposed to slavery of mind; Truth as opposed to Falsehood;
Independence as opposed to Tyranny; Courtesy as opposed to
vulgarity of manner. In the stages through which society has
passed, these words, in these senses, were words of battle, and
very influential words too: but they have a more abiding and
fresher significance if we regard them, not as merely indicating
antagonisms, but as expressing sentiments inseparable from a
natural and manly character. In this sense they constitute the
elements of a Logic of Secular Life.
It is of little use that a poor man looks around him unless he
thinks when he looks. He will find that every inch of ground,
every flower of the field, every bird of the air, every spray of the
sea has an owner; but there is one thing at least left him—he
may be master of his own mind ; his intellect at least is in his
own keeping; and it is the first duty of man to maintain dominion
there. It is part of a wise self-defence in a man to own no master,
to brook no control, to obey no command, which contradicts his
own deliberate judgment of the right.
*
Be the interferer priest
or king, society or custom, let him bid them stand aside. Let a
man listen to those who advise ; reverence those who teach;
honour those who think, for they are donors; but let his opinions
he his own and not second-hand. Poverty of means may be caused
by others—poverty of thought is idleness or baseness of our own.
The world, except to the masters of armies, is no longer an oyster
to be opened with a sword—all conquests there by the people re
quire thought. The upward avenues of society are guarded by
the dragons of Privilege and Success. Industry may present
itself, but intellect is its passport. Self-thought, which is the
original name for Freethought, therefore, is the first means of
self-help. He who fails to exercise Freethought is defenceless—
he who relinquishes it is despised, even by those who encourage
his submission or coerce him to it. The destitute at a mine who
fear to gather the golden ore for which they have gone—the thirsty
at a well who fear to drink of the stream for which they are dying
—they who in danger see escape open to them and yet fear to flee
—are types of him who fears to use his own reason when he should.
Freethought is a primary condition of Truth: we can never
know much unless we are free to inquire into all. Freethought
is the instinct of enterprise—it proceeds, Columbus-like, upon an
f It is not intended to say that a man may disregard the alleged
“Will of God,” or a precept of high human authority, upon mere im
pulse, caprice, conceit, or antagonism. Our words are, “ his own de
liberate judgment (or conviction) of the right.” To act contrary to
this would not be to honour or worship God, but to act the hypocrite
knowingly.
�THE LOGIC OF LIFE.
5
Freethought not an agent of heresy, but of self-defence.
unknown sea to discover new lands. He who sets out knows not
that he may ever return to what he has left behind him, and
those who await his return know not what report of strange
countries he may bring back. The stationaries, the timid, or com
fortable, or component parts of vested interests, always look with
suspicion on the thinker. To-day, or to-morrow—there is no
telling when—he will raise the cry of “ Progress,” and the people
will be setting off, leaving the fixture party behind. The watch
word of the Freethinker is “ Excelsior!” “Higher!” “Forward!”
That of the fettered thinker is ‘ ‘ Lower!” “ Halt!” “ Retrograde!”
“Don’t go too far!” Cl Better to be safe!” The Freethinker is,
however, wiser. He hears the reverberations of Progress in every
footfall of the march of Nature. When the vibration of a social
earthquake is felt, apathy is fatuity. In every wreck of a human
being around us, we witness the falling of some edifice of religious,
social, or political superstition. It is in standing still when all
around is moving, or in going back when all the prudent are
escaping, which constitutes actual danger. If it be “ better to be
safe,” it is better to be a Free Inquirer, whether the object be
personal or public protection. Those who condemn Freethought
as heresy, do not understand that it is self-defence; those who
call it anarchy do not remember that order without progress is
tyranny. But in practising Freethought there may be passion
but not petulance, enthusiasm but not excitement. It must be
patient, persistent, and independent, obviously seeking two things
—truth and deliverance; and the sign of deliverance is indepen
dence, and the grace of independence is courtesy.
But if we claim to take Freethought as a fundamental and com
prehensive principle of action, we must justify the claim. Others
claim also now to act on the same principle, and to be freethinkers.
So much the better if it be so. We desire no exclusiveness here.
We will do injustice to none, but state our own case, and admit
the degree in which others approach to our own rule, and define
and explain what that rule is.
The Roman Catholic even seems to believe in Freethought,
though, as it appears, in a very limited degree, and he never
trusts it as we do. He so fears the independent use of Reason,
that lie only allows the inquirer to use it once, and that is to
light him to the Church; and when he arrives at the door thereof
the Priest meets him, takes the taper of Reason from his hand,
assures him that he will have no further need for that, and the
Priest keeps it henceforth in his possession. Once within the
Church, the Inquirer finds that his reason is never to be had even
on hire ever after. And the Roman Catholic Priest having been
obliged with your soul, soon finds occasion to trouble you for your
body. He cares for you spiritually and temporally, and woe to
that man or that nation whose liberty is in such keeping!
The Evangelical Protestant Priest will, we say it to his credit.
�0
THE LOGIC OF LIFE.
The Catholic, Protestant, and Secular conception of Freethinking.
..eave you considerable political liberty; but lie considers every
jnan utterly depraved by natu.re, and he has little more confidence
than his brother of Rome in the results of Freethought. He in«
deed places the Bible before you, and tells you to use your “ pri
*
vate judgment ” upon it; but he places the Devil on the top of it,
and Eternal Perdition at the bottom of it, and hangs up a Creed
before it, and warns you that if you do not go through the Bible
and come to that Creed, that the dark Gentleman at the top will
pay his respects to you, and conduct you to his subterranean
chambers at the bottom. And this is the Protestant idea of Freethought! This is not often said, it is not always seen to amount
to this by those who act so, and this representation of it will be
denied; but to this Protestant Freethought ever resolves itself in
the English Church, and among all the tribes of Evangelical Dis
senters.
Freethought, as the Secularist understands it, differs from the
Roman Catholic and Protestant conception of it. Freethought
from the Secular point of view, is not pride of reason (if that be
*
wrong), it is the use of reason. It is not caprice or wantonness,
or stiflf-neckedness, or wickedness, or rebellion, or enmity against
God. It is the duty of inquiry—it is rebellion against Ignorance—
it is enmity against Error. Freethinking is not “loose thinking,”
as the Rev. Charles Kingsley perversely puts it. It is the quiet,
resolute, and two-sided search for Truth without fear of the Bible,
the Priest, or the Devil—or what in these days is the same thing,
fear of that social intolerance, that tyranny of the majority, which
frightens many people as much. Freethought is sensible, not
sensual; it is fearless wherever error has to be attacked or truth
to be discovered. It proves all things, with Paul; or it proves
them in spite of Paul, if need be; it inquires if the Bible permits,
and it inquires if the Bible forbids. Its inspiration is self-develop
ment ; its object is truth; its reward self-protection; its hope
progress; its spirit is reverent and resolute.
Secular Freethought is the assertion of mental liberty. It is
the beginning of intellectual life and manhood. It is the first
step from mental slavery. It is the indication that a man is
setting up in the world of opinion on his own account. Freethought signifies free trade in intellect. It is the proof that a
man is not a toy or a tool, but that he has something in him. It
is a sign of self-respect and emulation. It implies a sense of res
ponsibility to God on the part of those who are Theists, and to
Conscience, to Truth, and to Society, on the part of him who is
not. And he who seeks to arrest Freethought by penalties, by
opprobrium, or disapproval, is the enemy of his kind, of their
liberty, growth, and development, whatever may be his motives^
base or honest.
___________________________________
* I never could see that the “ pride of reason ” is anything wrong.
To take pride in the noblest endowment of man is a good sign.
�THE LOGIC OF LIFE.
Truth the first consequent of Fireetliought.
Truth is the first issue of Freethought—certainly the first object
that the Freethinker sets before him. The miracles and wonders
of nature and life incite to thought, and to solve with requisite
advantage any mystery, thought must be free. Freethought is
but a means, truth the end. But if we lose sight of the means,
we may never reach the end. People who think for us, some
times do for us. Self-thought is policy as well as duty.
Why do we want Freethought? Plainly for self-protection
and power—and the power is the power of truth. Freethought
is labour and responsibility, irksome and onerous. It is a luxury
to lie down without ideas. One might bless the priest or politician
who would undertake the labour of thinking. The Church of
Rome, or the reign of Despotism and Toryism, is the paradise of
the lazy, the reckless, the sensual, and the supine. Freethought is
intrepidity and duty. It is the instinct of Secular and Political
safety. Freethought is the revolt of manhood, conscience, dili
gence, and the noble thirst for truth.
The definition of Truth given by Samuel Bailey is probably the
simplest and widest that can be found :—“ Truth is a term by
which is implied accuracy of knowledge and of inference.”* The
meaning here is obvious and practical. Let us inquire into the
nature of its legitimate significance. “ I am a lover, utterer, and
observer of the Truth.” How many make this boast! All in
some way think themselves entitled to make it; yet how few un
derstand what is meant by this high profession !
Let a man resolve that he will seek the truth, speak the truth,
and act the truth : what an education lies in that resolve! To
seek the truth implies the power of distinguishing it. It implies
calmness, observation, penetration, and impartiality. The ex
cited discern nothing distinctly; the unobservant miss half of
that which is to be seen; those who lack sagacity are imposed
upon by counterfeits; the partial see only half a truth, and never
know which half. The study of the truth is the study of the Real.
The real, for practical purposes, may be described as that which
we can verify by the senses and enable others to verify, or as that
of which we can furnish to others the conditions of its reproduc
tion ; which may be submitted to the most searching investigation
and experiment. Accuracy of observation is the beginning of
truth. Error is the misapprehension of nature—disaster is mis
taking the way to it. All thoughtful life is a search for the real;
all philosophy is the interpretation of it; all progress is the attain
ment of it; all art is the presentment of it; all science the mastery
of it. Here the question arises, What is the test of the real ?
How do we know that we know it ? For the purposes of ordi
nary certainty about it, we require to be able to identify the thing
we mean; to show it or demonstrate it to others; to challenge
Essay on the Pursuit of Truth, chap, i., p. L
�8
THE LOGIC OF LIFE.
The profession of Truth, and what it involves.
their resources to combat it; to dare their judgment upon it; to
give them the means of testing it; to conquer prejudice by its
force and scepticism by its proofs. In fine, in some way or other
to display or explain the immediate causation of phenomena.
Men are never satisfied—never feel beyond the chances of delusion
till then. If any one would see the influence of a simple prin
ciple like that of the search for truth over character, let him reflect
merely on the ordinary processes which common sense and com
mon power may adopt for the acquisition of truth. By observa
tion the materials of thought are collected. When we can identify
facts they become knowledge, which, as Whately was first to
teach, implies truth, proof, and conviction. When knowledge
becomes methodised, and assumes the form of science, it becomes
for the first time power. This, however, occurs late, because
science is the hardest step in attainments. It is popular to talk
of science, but science is not popular. Its strictness, its care, its
patience, its discipline, its caution, its experiments—various, la
borious, and incessant—imply qualities of which the populace,
generally speaking, are deficient. A high state of general culture
must be reached before science can be popular. Thus the pro
fession of “seeking” the truth involves the question of self
education.
Next, the resolution “ to speak” the truth tells advantageously
upon a man’s character—no undertaking is nobler. A man rises
in his own esteem the moment he enters upon it, and in that of
others as soon as he is seen acting up to his profession. Falsehood
is the mark of meanness, cowardice, and slavery the world over. A
lie is the brand of servitude. In every part of the world we in
stinctively despise the race that is weak enough to lie. The mob
are false before they are contemned. Truth is the child of courage
as •well as of honour. The high-spirited alone are habitually
frank. It is weakness to affect singularity, but it is worse than
weakness not to be singular, if the singularity lie in acting out a
conviction of the right. Better even be eccentric than false. It
is sometimes dangerous to dissent from the public, and painful to
dissent from your friends. It is often very expensive to have an
opinion of your own, and avow it; but the partizan of truth must
be content to brave many penalties; and he is badly educated in
his art if he be not apprised of this. He must leave to valetudi
narian moralists to utter timid, base, and comfort-seeking acquiescences, in the hypocrisies of sects and society.
One whose noble words have been an inspiration to the workman
of this age, and who, above all writers, has invested art and industry
with higher purposes than were felt before, tells us that “ there are
some faults slight in the sight of love, slight in the estimate of wis
dom ; but truth forgives no insult and endures no stain. We do not
enough consider this, nor enough dread the slight and continual oc
casions of offenceagainst her. We are too much in the habit oflook-
�THE LOGIC OF LIFE.
9
Mr. Ruskin’s delineation of the lies which harm.
ing at falsehood in its darkest associations and through the colour of
its worst purposes. That indignation which we profess to feel at
deceit absolute, is indeed only at deceit malicious. We resent
calumny, hypocrisy, and treachery because they harm us, not
because they are untrue. Take the detraction and the mischief
from the untruth, and we are little offended by it; turn it into
praise, and we may be pleased with it. And yet it is not calumny
nor treachery that does the largest sum of mischief in the world,
they are continually crushed and felt only in being conquered.
But it is the glistening and softly-spoken lie; the amiable fallacy ;
the patriotic lie of the historian, the provident lie of the politician,
the zealous lie of the partizan, the merciful lie of the friend, and
the careless lie of each man to himself, that cast that black mys
tery over humanity, through which any man who pierces, we
thank as we would thank one who dug a well in a desert; happy
in that the thirst for truth still remains with us even when we
have wilfully left the fountains of it.”*
The courage of Truth also implies purity; because the utter
ance of truth implies the power of publicity. Now a man who
undertakes “ to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but
the truth ” on all occasions, must take care what he thinks and
what he knows. He must keep watch and ward over his thoughts
and his ears. There is sometimes tragedy in the resolution.
Lucius Junius Brutus had to condemn his own sons; the father
of Jeannie Deans to hang his own daughter. No virtue tries a
man’s soul like incorruptible and uncompromising veracity, nor
tries it so frequently.
Unless truth becomes the very essence of personal character, the
highest appeal of the moralist is without effect. The golden
injunction in Hamlet—
To thine own self be true;
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man,
implies that man himself must be true, or the response of his
nature will be untrue. The true echo of a false nature will be
false. You can only trust the true.
There is however capacity as well as purity implied in the pur
suit and utterance of truth. He who succeeds must know how to
test a rumour, how to avoid being imposed upon by report. He
must be cautious and wary ; suspicious of the lurking prejudice
which unconsciously distorts; quick to detect omissions in state
ments, and able by preserving measure in his own thoughts, to
repel exaggerations by instinct. He requires to judge look, tone,
language, and logic. He who undertakes to utter only the truth
undertakes not to be imposed upon by the prepossessions, malice,
* John Buskin.
�16
THE LOGIC OF LIFE.
Exactness the only measure of strength.
incompetence, or sophistry of others; else he becomes a mere
retailer of falsehood second-hand. On his own part also there are
some requirements. The truth-speaker should be master of the
art of explicit statement. He should know the value of terms and
the force of speech. He requires to explain to others not only
what he means, so that they can understand it; but, as Cobbett
puts it, “ so that they cannot possibly misunderstand it,” other wise he misleads them in spite of himself. A truth speaker must
look all round his statements to be sure that there is nothing dis
coloured reflecting a false light; nothing redundant which over
states ; nothing deficient which obscures; nothing ambiguous
which cau leave a doubt. A piece of meaning, properly expressed,
is incapable of being abridged, else it is too long : it is incapable
of being amplified, else it is too brief: the very terms are un
changeable. else they were not well chosen. The perfect expression
of a thought is a work of art, and when perfect is a study and a
delight. We see in Beranger how a studious fitness of expression
was a part of his genius. A man who has judgment to cast, and,
if need be, recast his language, may attain excellence. This suc
cess costs no money; it costs only reflection; and it may be done
at the workshop as well as in the study. If it be worth while
speaking at all, it is worth while speaking to some purpose. He
who strives to do everything well may do little; but that little
will be worth mu eh. It is a great gain to guard against that
voluble feebleness which enervates your own mind, and wastes the
time of others.
Let a man be clear as to what he really knows, and confine
himself to that, and lock round and note the effect of what be is
saying on those who credit his words, and he will often find silence
a virtue and a mercy. We make tragedies every day by our
speech. Some words are like poisoned arrows, and affect fatally
the blood of those pierced by them.
But if the policy of truth has difficulties, it has also advantages,
which ambition itself might covet. A mau whose words are
measured and independent, and can be trusted, makes a place for
himself in the esteem and deference of his contemporaries which
no other qualities can win. All exactness (if I may repeat, for
the sake of illustration here, what I have said elsewhere) imposes
restriction; but exactness is strength. The rustic dancer, who is
the admiration of the village green, hesitates to take a step in the
presence of the dancing master ; the confident instructor of the
private class faulters before the professed grammarian; the singer
who is rapturously applauded at the evening party, cannot be
prevailed upon to utter a note at a concert; the provincial actor,
who nightly “ brought down the house ” in Richard the Third, is
timorous in a rehearsal before Macready, Phelps, or Fechter; the
orator who sets the country on fire, stammers in the House of
Commons, finding that, as Canning said, “the atmosphere in which
�THE LOGIC OF LIFE.
11
independence a second consequence of Frcethoaght.
the demagogue shrinks to his natural dimensions.” These per
sons, once placed in higher society than their own, are in that light
where their defects can be seen ; and, what is more to the purpose,
where they cannot be hidden. The single step which is right;
the single sentence wThich is correct; the single note which is
perfect; the single passage rendered by the actor with cultivated
success; the shortest speech which has the grace of close sense
and suitable delivery, is a source of more confidence to the indi
vidual, and gives him more power to eommand the applause of
all whose applause is worth having, than all gyrations, display,
screaming, gabble, gesticulation, and declamation, which make up
the bulky acquisitions of the novice, the pretender, or the quack.
The moment we step into the circle of those better informed than
ourselves, we feel our deficiencies, and are suddenly contracted
down to the little that we really know. A man may deceive those
who know less than himself, or the same as himself, but he can
never deceive those who know more. Knowledge once challenged,
pierces instantly through the thickest cloak ingenious ignorance
can put on. Our actual knowledge, whatever it is, is the measure
of our actual power; and to know what that knowledge is, is to
know upon what we can rely. Truth alone is strength. As
*
Shakspere makes Mark Anthony say—
Who tells me true,
Though in the tale lie death,
I hear him as he flattered.
*
Independence is one of the high attributes of character which
the passion for truth begets as the necessity of the enjoyment of
its conquests. Independence is self-direction, self-sustainment,
but not lawlessness. It is freedom from vice, from ignorance and
superstition, from the tyranny of all power and all opinion which
violate reason and nature. It is admitted that independence so
perfect is unattainable in existing society, yet the adequate con
ception of it will assist those who desire to approximate to it.
We must not, however, suppose that there is such a thing as ab
solute independence. Independence is relative only. Man is
dependent on Nature for existence and subsistence; on the ob
servance of the laws of nature and the laws of society, legal,
social, and moral, for they are necessary for his development,
culture, happiness, and security.
Independence, as it is possible to the emulative, is attainable in
two ways; one by abridging our wants to the minimum com-
* Elsewhere I have quoted these lines, to which I am attached; and
the preceding passage occurs in another work, and I have no excuse for
repeating it except its relevance to the argument. In this licence I
follow the example of Archbishop Whately; but what has not been
forgiven in him who has the right of genius to repetition, is infinitely
less likely to be pardoned in me.
�12
THE LOGIC OF LIFE.'
Independence is self-direction and self-sustainment.
patible with wealth, the other by acquiring ample means for the
gratification of the wants we elect to retain. Of course the shortest
way is by the simplification of wants, and most persons have
something to gain by this course.
Government is necessitated by the tendency of men to injustice,
disorder, and excess. A just man capable of self-direction and
self-control, is independent of government in his own case. Rulers
are necessitated by the blind, vicious, and violent. A weak man is
at the mercy of the strong, hence a lover of independence seeks
strength and skill as resources. Intelligent love of independence will
influence personal education in many ways. In point of knowledge
the independent man endeavours to put himself on a level with
those around him, that he may not be imposed upon by the
cunning, nor defeated by the subtle, nor borne down by superiors.
Ignorance is slavery, and he acquires knowledge that he may be
free. He practises economy in the use of hi3 means—he lives
within his income, that he may be above the necessity of extreme
labour, which is serfdom. Aman’s private habits are revised when
he is animated by a spirit of independence. He chooses truth be
cause it is simple and brave, rather than falsehood, which is per
plexing and cowardly. Temperance is not with him an arduous
virtue of self-denial; but is part of that policy by which he pre
serves health, means, liberty, and power. A true freeman will
not be the slave of dress, of stimulants, or of diet, or doctors, or
custom, or opinion, any more than the slave of priests or kings.
To cover a neglect of duty, a loss of time, a defect in work-—to
conceal a petty abstraction or an overcharge—what lies, prevari
cations, and deceptions, employers often detect in the working
class. For what petty and fleeting advantages the independence
of veracity is thoughtlessly sacrificed ! The employer may be
guilty of this as well as the employed. There is often meanness
in the counting-house as well as in the workshop. The tradesman
may overcharge as well as the customer higgle; but this conduct
bears the same mark in each class: it is the badge of the slave
spirit all round.
Again, independence implies self-possession as well as selfrespect. He who is excited is no longer master of himself. He can
neither see his way nor take it if he sees it. Events, real or imagi
nary, are driving him ; he has forfeited self-direction—his liberty
is lost.
Independence also exercises other influences. Independence
must fluctuate unless there be security around. But to attain
this there must be fairness and justice to others, or antagonisms
will arise; well founded, and therefore inveterate, which .will
occupy the passions imperiously, and such stimulated and coerced
occupation is a species of slavery. Independence, therefore, un
derstood as a consistent principle, is a check upon the lawlessness
or excesses of liberty. Liberty is no longer a capricious shout
�THE LOGIC OF LIFE.
13
The principle of courtesy is the consideration of others,
taken up in irritation and persisted in in antagonism; but is a
manly, positive, persistent, and rational principle, having inspiration
and purpose—influencing personal and public character.
Courtesy is that quality of Freethought which gives to truth
its agreeableness and to independence its grace.
Without
courtesy Freethought may be perverted into wanton aggression,
truth into outrage, independence into rudeness. Conviction of
every kind must be associated with the consideration due to others,
a desire of service and a feeling of kindness to others. Conviction,
service, and kindness to others must be regarded as inseparable.
Separate them and there is danger. “ Conviction” by itself, how
ever sincere, may be ferocity, as was the case with the Puritans;
“ service” alone may become selfishness; “kindness” alone may
become weakness. Free inquiry pursued on the principle of
self-protection is invincible; made an annoyance to others it is
endangered; truth made disagreeable is betrayed; independence
which is inconsiderate of others is insolence. Bluster, objuration,
rudeness, are the crimes which cowardice, ignorance, and selfish
ness commit. If justice and considerateness to others were
widely cultivated, there would be no need of charity in the world.
If a man hate the world, the world can acquit itself by multi
tudinous retaliation. If a man will profess indifference to the
world, he may perish amid the omnipresent apathy he invokes.
But if he would serve the world, or endeavour toserve it, mankind
may not reciprocate the disposition, but such a man alone has
established a claim upon their good offices.
There is one mode of success in the world in which ambition is
itself legitimate, a mode of success available to all, in which there
is little competition; it is the unselfish service of others. The
avenues to this kind of promotion are open always and open to all,
and the porches are never crowded. Thus courtesy is good sense
as well as good feeling. The indispensability of courtesy every one
upon reflection may see. By its own nature independence is un
social. It sets up for itself, acts for itself. It proposes to keep
other persons at a distance. Its principle is to owe nothing to
others, and is therefore under no obligation to oblige them. It is
self-reliant and defiant. Without courtesy independence is re
pulsive. But courtesy practised by the independent wears the air
of chivalry.
Courtesy implies fortitude and justness. Without fortitude to
bear much himself, a person will impose or obtrude on others a
consciousness of his sufferings, at times when it will extinguish
their enjoyment, and in no way relieve his own. It implies a
sense of justness in this way^—No man, unless he is always
judicially wary and inquiring, can determine the guilt of his
neighbour in suspicious cases, and a man always on the judg
ment-seat is a nuisance. A detective dogging you is not au
agreeable follower; a detective friend is a sort of private police
man. Courtesy is trusting and unsuspicious.
�14
THE LOGIC OF LIFE.
Courtesy is something distinct from etiquette and politeness.
It is to be understood that, by courtesy, I do not mean mere
etiquette, compliments, or conventional politeness, which may co
exist with hypocrisy and hateful selfishness. I do not mean a
ceremony, but a sentiment. By courtesy, I mean service—the
disinterested service of others in thought, speech, and act. I
mean that sentiment which, in the family circle, in company, in
society, in all human intercourse, pauses to ask, “ How can I pro
mote, or avoid impairing, the personal comfort or convenience of
others ?” Courtesy is often shown more by what it does,not dp,
than by what it does. The thoughtless word, the irritating tone,
the vexatious remark, anger, and impatience; observations upon
the appearance or manners of others, which do not affect us, nor
injure us, nor concern us, and which we are not called upon to
correct, and which are part of the proper personal liberty of
others—these are the wanton crimes of social tyrants, from whom
there is no escape. This is misery which all have the power to
inflict, and many inflict it all their lives without appearing to
know it. The simple and considerate omission of these things
would be true courtesy, though no acts of kindness or attention
were added. Courtesy may be known by this—it gives what
your neighbour or your friend cannot ask ; the grace of it con
sists in this—that it volunteers what cannot be exacted. The
poorest man who understands it may distribute around him the
riches of enjoyment. It needs no wealth but that of the,, mind,
and is the sign of a nobler character than wealth itself. Wealth
is but the emblem of refinement; courtesy is the possession of it.
Independence consults its own interests. Courtesy consults that
of others. The difference between etiquette and courtesy may
be seen in this—etiquette lies no deeper than the manners, cour
tesy has its seat in the judgment; one is the creature of the
accredited custom of the hour; the other is a dictate of moral
thoughtfulness. Etiquette is conventionality, courtesy is a con
viction. Mere etiquette begins in politeness and ends in proprie
ties ; it is fair spoken to your face, and may scoff at you, defame
you, and revile you behind your back; while true courtesy denotes,
the spirit; it is honesty as well as kindness; it is the same in
your absence as in your presence. It pays unseen compliments; if it
professes regard, it is a perpetual regard upon which you may count.
Such are some of the obvious significations involved in the fami
liar terms, Freethought, Truth, Independence, and Courtesy. In
pointing them out, I have no doubt laid myself open to the objection
of all who have something to excuse in themselves, and of others
who have not reflected upon the subject; that I set up a standard
so high that ordinary men, despairing of attaining excellence,
will be discouraged from attempting improvement. To such I
answer, that I do not exact perfection; I only give information,
and contend that every man should understand the nature and
purport of his own profession, for no one is likely ever to advance
unless he is made clearly conscious of what it is that he ought, in
�THE LOGIC O? LIFE.
15
The principles of a Secular Logic of Life.
consistency, to attempt. If he does mean what his words imply,
he will not object to be judged by them. If he does not mean
that, let him choose other terms which express what he does
mean, and no longer dilute high words with weak meanings.
The reason why great words grow pale in the memory of men,
and tame in their influence, is because their high significance is
not insisted upon. I hold that it may be no reproach that a man
does not excel ; but it is a reproach if he never strives after
excellence, and does not even know in what it consists. But
how can any one be expected to strive after it, unless it be shown
to him ? The majority of men do not do their duty, because they
have never been clearly shown what their duty is.
I sum up the Logic of Life in four inter-dependent things,
easy to remember, essential to practise, and which I endeavour
explicity to insist upon—namely, Freethought Truth, Indepen
dence, Courtesy.
Freethought is self-instruction and self-defence. Truth is
guidance, discipline, and mastery. Independence is self-direction
and security. Courtesy is tenderness and courage, and a perpetual
letter of recommendation, which each may provide for himself,
everybody respect. These are personal qualities that must under
lie all manly character: they are as inseparable from, and as
essential to, excellence, as temperance to health, as exercise to
growth, as air and food to life. These are qualities which ought
to exist in all conditions, and which are possible in the lowest.
The points which I have enumerated comprise a Logic of Life
which can be self-acquired, and is, therefore, as possible to him
who graduates in a workshop—to whom the priceless advantages
of learning are unknown—as to him who graduates in a college.
In the school of experience to which all the world go, every
scholar may be proficient, who has the sagacity to observe and
the patience to think. Of course a man may know with advantage
more than the four things I have enumerated, but he ought not to
know less ; and he will be able to conduct his life with intelligence
and dignity if he knows as much.
Of the connection of these views with the future little need be
said. He who lives a life of truth and service is always fitted to
die. If a religion of reason exists, it is one in which priests, have
no monopoly of interest, and God no sectarian partialities—it is
one in which work is worship, and good intent the .passport to sal
vation.
This is not an argument against Christianism. It is one inde
pendent of it. It dpes not question the pretensions of Christianity,
it advances others. Christianity may even indulge in an exagge
rated estimate of its powers and influences. Nothing is here said
to the contrary. Undoubtedly Christianity is a Logic of Life to
those who accept it. This argument is addressed to those who do
not, Christianity may claim to appeal to noble passions, and to
�1ft
THE LOGIC OF LIFE.
The relation of the whole argument to Christianity.
inspire lofty hopes, but it cannot deny that there are other prin
ciples, other appeals, other guidance independently of it.
An intrepid, two-sided Freethought is hardly the growth of
Christian soil. It is one thing to tolerate inquiry, it is quite a dif
ferent thing to inculcate inquiry as a duty. Secularism regards
the love of truth as native to the heart of man—as an instinct of
human nature—as deeper than Christianity—as the austere power
of character which bends all influences before it: which exists in
dependently, acts independently, and acts for ever. The simple
precept, seek the truth, respect the truth, speak the truth, and live
the truth, is one without which no character can be perfect; and
*
it is one which will make a character for a man though he never
read a line of theology, never listened to a single sermon, never
entered the portals of a church.
Mental independence can scarcely be said to be cultivated by
Christianity. All Evangelical religion is the wail of helplessness.
It teaches that self-reliance, that iron string to which all noble
pagan hearts have vibrated, in all ages of the world, is mere sinful
self-sufficiency. Yet an intelligent sentiment of Independence,
which trusts the right, works for the right, which guards and holds
it, is a lion precept, considerate, equitable, impassable.
It would be well wrere I wrong in maintaining that courtesy is an
independent Secular sentiment. Unfortunately popular Christianity
recognises no sincerity, no good intention in opponents. It keeps
no terms with unbelievers. An outrage upon them it regards as
faithfulness to Christ. It still denies them social recognition and
civil rights.
• >
It is necessary, therefore, to find other ground of inspiration
and guidance, and such Secular Freethought furnishes. There iff
reason to maintain that soon after a man makes the simple pro
fession of Freethought, and understands all that that implies, and
acts up to it, he becomes another person, that his whole character
changes, and his whole mind begins to grew, and never ends till
death.
' The Principle of Freethought, with its consequents of Truth,
of Independence, of Courtesy, is capable of influence for good
where Theology is detrimental or powerless. I do not say, nor
assume (my argument does not require it), that there is no light
or guidance elsewhere; but I do say what is sufficient for the
purpose, and what I maintain is—that there is light and guidance
here ; that the light of Nature is neither dim nor flickering, but
bright and steady: that those who accuse Secularism of being
merely negative; who allege that it pulls down and does not build
up; that its instinct is to destroy, and that it has no capacity for
construction ; that it points out what is wrong and never what is
right; that it finds fault, and never commits itself to the respond
sibility of indicating what should be or might be; accuse Secu
larism without knowledge or accuse it in suite of it.
�
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The logic of life, reduced from the principle of freethought
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Holyoake, G.J.
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Place of publication: London
Collation: 16 p. ; 18 cm.
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Austin & Co.
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1870
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Free thought
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Free Thought
Life
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Text
THE
Logic of Death,
Qi, fclju sfyonlb i^re
fear to
?
By G. J. Holyoake.
“Even in the 'last dread scene of all’ personal conviction Is sufficient to produce
calmness and confidence. There was one, who for three months suffered agonies
unutterable, who evAla-imod in his anguish, ‘ So much torture, O God, to trill a
poor worm! Yet if by one word I could shorten this misery, I would not say it.
And at lasi^ folded his arms, and calmly said, ‘ Now I die!’ Yet this man was
an avowed infidel, and worse, an apostate priest.”—Spoken by Father Nbwmah
yn the Oratory of St. Philip Neri) of Blanco White.
[EIGHTIETH THOUSAND—
ENLARGED AND REVISED EDITION.]
LONDON:
AUSTIN & Co., JOHNSON’S COURT, E.C.
1870.
PRICE
ONE
PENNY.
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�THE LOGIC OF DEATH
When the cholera prevailed in London in 1848, many were carried
away without opportunity or power to testify to the stability of
those conclusions which had been arrived at when life was calm, and
the understanding healthy. The slightest summary of opinions,
concientiously prepared, would have been sufficient to prevent mis
representation after death, provided the person who had drawn up
such statements had strength to revert to them, and to make some sign
that a conviction of their correctness remained. Mr. Hetherington
and myself drew up brief statements of tenets which appeared to us
to be true. He, as we know, sealed his in death. In several lectures
delivered, at the time when no man could calculate on life an hour,
I recited the grounds on which the Atheist might repose, and it has
since appeared that their publication would be useful. The book, of
which a second volume has since appeared, entitled 4 The Closing
Scene,’ by the Rev. Erskine Neale (in which the old legends about
infidel death-beds are revived), lauded by the Times, and patronised
by the upper classes, is proof that there are some priests going up and
down like roaring lions, seeking consciences which they may devour,
and proof of the necessity of some protest on this subject.
Since my trial before Mr. Justice Erskine, in 1842,1 have in some
measure been identified with sceptics of theology, and many ask the
opinions of such on death. If the world ask in respect, or curiosity,
or scorn, I answer for myself alike respectfully and distinctly. I love
the world in spite of its frowning moods. For years I have felt
neither anger nor hatred of any living being, and I will not advisedly
resuscitate those distorting passions through which we see the errors
of each other as crimes.
In my youth I was in such rude contact with the orern realities of life,
that the visions with which theology surrounded my childhood were
eventually dispelled, and now (so far as I can penetrate to it) I look
at destiny face to face. Cradled in suffering and dependence, I was
emboldened to think, and I took out of the hands of the churches,
where I was taught to repose them, the great problems of Life, Time,
and Death, and attempted the solution for myself. It was not long
hidden from me that if I followed the monitions of the pulpit, the
�4
THE EOGJC OF DEATH.
Those who must answer for themselves, have the right to think for themselves.
responsibility was all my own : that at the ‘ bar of God,’ before which
I was instructed all men must one day stand, no preacher would take
my place if, through bowing to his authority, I adopted error. As I,
therefore, must be reponsible for myself, I resolved to think for
myself—and since no man would answer for me, I resolved that no
man should dictate to me the opinion I should hold: for he is impo
tent indeed, and deserves his fate, who has not the courage to act
where he is destined to suffer. My resolution was therefore taken,
and I can say with Burke, ‘ my errors, if any, are my own: I have
[and will have] no man’s proxy.’
In the shade of society my lot was cast, and there I struggled
for more light for myself and brethren. For years I toiled, with
thousands of others, who were never remunerated by the means of
paltriest comfort, and whose lives were never enlivened by real
pleasure. In turning from this I had nothing to hope, nor fear, nor lose.
Since then my days have been chequered and uncertain, but they have
never been criminal, nor servile, nor sad: for the luxury of woe, and the
superfluous refinement of despair, may be indulged in, if by any, by
those only who live in drawing-rooms—sorrow is too expensive an
article to be consumed by the cottager or garreteer. The rightminded in the lowest station may be rich, accepting the wise advice
of Carlyle:—‘ Sweep away utterly all frothiness and falsehood from
your heart: struggle unweariedly to acquire what is possible for every
man—a free, open, humble soul; speak not at all, in any wise, till
you have somewhat to speak; care not for the reward of your
speaking : but simply, and with undivided mind, for the truth of your
speaking: then be placed in what section of Space and of Time soever,
do but open your eyes, and they shall actually see, and bring you
real knowledge, wondrous, worthy of belief.’ Thus have I en
deavoured to see life; and it is from this point of view that I explain
my conceptions of death.
The gates of heaven are considered open to those only who believe
as the priest believes. The theological world acts as if we did not come
here to use our understandings, as if all religious truth was ascertained
2000 years ago, and we are counselled to accept the conclusions of the
Church, on pain of forfeiting the fraternity of men, and the favour of
God. I know the risks I am said to run, but ‘ I am in that place,’ to use
the expression of brave old Knox, ‘ in which it is demanded of me to
speak the truth; and the truth I will speak, impugn it whoso lists.'
And after all, the world is not so bad as antagonism has painted it.
It will forgive a man for speaking plainly, providing he takes care to
speak justly. To give any one pain causes me regret; but, while I
respect the feelings of others, I, as conscience and duty admonish me,
respect the truth more—and by this course I may be society’s friend,
for he who will never shock men may often deceive them.
It becomes me therefore to say that I am not a Christian. If I
could find a consistent and distinctive code of morality emanating
from Jesus I should accept it, and in that sense consent to be called
�THE LOGIC OF DEATH.
fl
The four tenets of the popular theology.
•
Christian. Butl cannot do it. Nor am I a believer in the Inspiration
of the Bible. That which so often falls below the language of men,
I cannot, without disrespect, suppose to be the language of God.
Whatever I find in the Bible below morality (and I find much), I
reject; what I find above it, I suspect; what I find coincident with
morality (whether in the Old Testament or the New), I retain. 1
make morality a standard. I am therefore the student of Moralism
rather than Christianity. It seems to me that there is nothing in
Christianity which will bear the test of discussion or the face of day,
nothing whereby it can lay hold of the world and move it, which is
not coincident with morality. Therefore morality has all the strength
of Christianity, without the mystery and bigotry of the Bible.
But I am not a Sceptic, if that is understood to imply general doubt;
for though I doubt many church dogmas, I do not doubt honour, or
truth, or humanity. I am not an Unbeliever, if that implies the
rejection of Christian truth—since all I reject is Christian error.
There are four principal dogmas of accredited Christianity which I
do not hold:—
1. The fall of man in Eden. 2. Atonement by proxy. 3. The siy
of unbelief in Christ. 4. Future punishment.
A disbeliever in all these doctrines, why should I fear to die ? I
will state the logic of death, as I conceive it, in relation to these
propositions.
1. If man fell in the Garden of Eden, who placed him there ? It is
said, God! Who placed the temptation there ? It is said, God!
Who gave him an imperfect nature—a nature of which it was fore
known that it would fall? It is said, God! To what does this amount?
If a parent placed his poor child near a fire at which he knew it
would be burnt to death, or near a well into which he knew it would
fall and be drowned, would any deference to creeds prevent our giving
speech to the indignation we should feel ? And can we pretend to
believe God has so acted, and at the same time be able to trust him ?
If God has so acted, he may so act again. This creed can afford
no consolation in death. If he who disbelieves this dogma fears to
die, he who believes it should fear death more.
2. Salvation, it is said, is offered to the fallen. But man is not
fallen, unless the tragedy of Eden really took place. And before
man can be accepted by God he must, according to Christians, own
himself a degraded sinner. But man is not degraded by the misfortune
of Adam. No man can be degraded by the act of another. Dis
honour can come only by his own hands. Man, therefore, needs not
this salvation. And if he needed it, he could not accept it. Debarred
from purchasing it himself, he must accept it as an act of grace. But
can it be required of us to go even to heaven on sufferance? We
despise the poet who is a sycophant before a patron, we despise the
citizen who crawls before a throne, and shall God be said to have
less love of self-respect than man ? He who deserves to be saved thus
hath most need to fear that he shall perish, for he seems to deserve it.
�6
THE LOGIC OF DEATH.
The offence of sin reaches not to Deity. Proof by Jonathan Edwards.
3. Then in what way can there be a sin of unbelief ? Is not the
understanding the subject of evidence ? A man, with evidence before
him, can no more help seeing it, or feeling its weight, than a man with
his eyes or ears open can help seeing the stars above him or trees
before him, or hearing the sounds made around him. If a man
disbelieve, it is because his conviction is true to his understanding.
If I.disbelieve a proposition, it is through lack of evidence; and the
act is as virtuous (so far as virtue can belong to that which is inevit
able) as the belief of it when the evidence is perfect. If it is meant
that a man is to believe, whether he see evidence or not, it means that
he is to believe certain things, whether true or false—in fine, that he
may qualify himself for heaven by intellectual deception. It is of no
use that the unbeliever is told that he will be damned if he does not
believe; what human frailty may do is another thing; but the judg
ment is clear, that a man ought not to believe, nor profess to believe,
what seems to him to be false, although he should be damned. The
believer who seeks.to propitiate Heaven by this deceit ought to fear
its wrath, not the unbeliever, who rather casts himself on its justice.
4. There is the vengeance of God. But is not the idea invalidated
as soon as you name it ? Can God have that which man ought not
to have—vengeance ? The jurisprudence of earth has reformed itself;
we no longer punish absolutely, we seek the reformation of the
offender. And shall we cherish in heaven an idea we have chased
from earth ? But what has to be punished ? Can the sins of man
disturb the peace of God? If so, as men exist in myriads, and action is
incessant, then is God, as Jonathan Edwards has shown, the most
miserable of beings and the victim of his meanest creatures. Surely
we must see, therefore, that sin against God is impossible. All sin is
finite and relative—all sin is sin against man. Will God punish
this which punishes itself ? If man errs, the bitter consequences are
ever with him. Why should he err ? Does he choose the ignorance,
incapacity, passion, and blindness through which he errs ? Why is
he precipitated, imperfectly natured, into a chaos of crime ? Is not
his destiny made for him ? and shall God punish eternally that sin
which is his misfortune rather than his fault ? Shall man be con
demned to misery in eternity because he has been made wretched,
and weak, and erring in time ? But if man has fallen at his
conscious peril—has thoughtlessly spurned salvation—has wilfully
offended God—will God therefore take vengeance ? Is God with
out magnanimity? If I do wrong to a man who does wrong to
me, I come down (has not the ancient sage warned me ?) to the
level of my enemy. Will God thus descend to the level of vindic
tive man? Who has not thrilled at the lofty question of Volumnia
to Coriolanus ?—
‘ Think’st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs?’
Shall God be less honourable, and remember the wrong done against
�THE LOGIC OF DEATH.
|
Christ’s death the great testimony against eternal retribution.
him, not by his equals, but by his own frail creatures ? To be un
able to trust God is to degrade him. Those passages in the New
Testament which we feel to have most interest and dignity, are the
parables in which a servant is told to forgive a debt to one who had
forgiven him; in which a brother is to be forgiven until seventy
times seven (that is unlimitedly): and in the prayer of Christ,
where men claim forgiveness as they have themselves forgiven
others their trespasses.
What was this but erecting a high
moral argument against the relentlessness of future punishment of
erring man ? If, therefore, man is to forgive, shall God do less ?
Shall man be more just than God ? Is there anything so grand in
the life of Christ as his forgiving his enemies as he expired on the
cross ? Was it God the Sufferer behaving more nobly than will God
the Judge? Was this the magnificent teaching of fraternity to
vengeful man, or is it to be regarded as a sublime libel on the
hereafter judgments of heaven ? The infidel is infidel to falsehood, but
he believes in truth and humanity, and when he believes in God, he
will prefer to believe that which is noble of him. Holding by no
conscious error, doing no dishonour in thought, and offering his
homage to love and truth, why should the unbeliever fear to die ?
Seeing the matter in this light, of what can I recant ? The perspicuity
of truth may be dimned by the agonies of death, but no amount of
agony can alter the nature of moral evidence.
To say (which is all I do say) that theology has not sufficient
evidence to make known to us the existence of God, may startle those
who have not thought upon the matter, or who have thought through
others—but has not experience said the same thing to us all ? Where
the intellect fails to perceive the truth, it is said that the feelings
assure us of it by its relieving a sense of dependence natural to man.
How ? Man witnesses those near and dear to him perish before his
eyes, and despite his supplications. He walks through no rose-water
world, and no special Providence smoothes his path. Is not the sense
of dependence. outraged already ?
Man is weak, and a special
Providence gives him no strength—distracted, and no counsel—
ignorant, and no wisdom—in despair, and no consolation—in distress,
and no relief—in darkness, and no light. The existence of God,
therefore, whatever it may be in the hypotheses of philosophy,
seems not recognisable in daily life. It is in vain to say, ‘God
governs by general laws.’
General laws are inevitable fate.
General laws are atheistical. They say practically, ‘ We are without
God in the world—man, look to thyself: weak though thou mayest
be, Nature is thy hope.’ And even so it is. Would I escape the keen
wind’s blast, I seek shelter—from the yawning waves, I look up, not
to heaven, but to naval architecture. In the fire-damp, Davy is
more to me than the Deity of creeds. All nature cries with one voice,
‘ Science is the Providence of man.’ Help lies not in priests, nor in the
prayer : it lies in no theories, it is written in no book, it is contained
in no theological creed—it lies in science, art, courage, and industry.
�8
THE LOGIC OF DEATH.
Atheism suspensive worship.
Some who regard all profession of opinion as a mere matter of
policy, and not of the understanding, will tell me that I can believe as
I please, and that I may call the Deity of theology what name I please:
forgetful that names are founded on distinctions, and that he who does
not penetrate to them is unqualified to decide this matter. It is in
vain to say believe as I please, or entitle things as I please—philoso
phical evidence and classification leave no choice in the matter.
The existence of God is a problem to which the mathematics of
human intelligence seem to me to furnish no solution. On the
threshold of the theme we stagger under a weight of words. We
tread amid a dark quagmire bestrewed with slippery terms. Now
the clearest miss their w.Q,y, w the cautions stumble, now the
strongest fall.
If there be a Deity to whom I am indebted, anxious for my grati
tude or my service, I am as ready to render it as any one existent, so
soon as I comprehend the nature of my duty. I therefore protest
against being Cviisidered, as Christians commonly consider the
unbeliever, as one who hates God, or is without a reverential spirit.
Hatred implies knowledge of the objectionable thing, and cannot
exist where nothing is understood. I am not unwilling to believe in
God, but I am unwilling to use language which conveys no adequate
idea to my own understanding.
Deem me not blind to the magnificence of nature or the beauties of
art, because T Zflerjc’et their language differently from others. I
thrill in the presence^of the dawn of day, and exult in the glories of
the setting sun. Whether the world wears her ebon and jewelled
crown of night, or the day walks wonderingly forth over the face of
nature, to me—
‘ Not the lightest leaf but trembling teems
With golden visions and romantic dreams.’
It is not in a low, but in an exalted estimate of nature that my rejec
tion of the popular theology arises. The wondrous manifestations of
nature indispose me to degrade it to a secondary rank. I am driven
to the conclusion that the great aggregate of matter which we call
Nature is eternal, because we are unable to conceive a state of things
when nothing was. There must always have been something, or
there could be nothing now. This the dullest feel. Hence we arrive
at the idea of the eternity of matter. .And in the eternity of matter
we are assured of the self-existence of matter, and self-existence is the
most majestic of attributes, and includes all others. That which has
the power to exist independently of a God, has doubtless the power to
act without the delegation of one. It therefore seems to me that
Nature and God are one—in other words, that the God whom we
seek is the Nature which we know.
I will not encumber, obscure, or conceal my meaning with a cloud
of words. I recognise in Nature but the aggregation of matter. The
term God seems to me inapplicable to Nature. In the mouth of the
�THE LOGIC OS’ DEATH.
The distinction between the Pantheist and the Atheist.
Theist, God signifies an entity, spiritual and percipient, distinct from
matter. With Pantheists the term God signifies the aggregate of
Nature—but nature as a Being, intelligent and conscious. It is my
inability to subscribe to either of these views which prevents me
being ranked with Theists. I can conceive of nothing beyond
Nature, distinct from it, and above it. The language invented
by Pope, to the effect that ‘we look through Nature up to
Nature’s God,’ has no significance for me, as I know nothing be
sides Nature and can conceive of nothing greater. The majesty of
the universe so transcends my faculties of penetration, that I pause
in awe and silence before it. It seems not to belong to man to com
prehend its attributes and extent, and to affirm what lies beyond it.
The Theist, therefore, I leave; but while I go with the Pantheist so
far as to accept the fact of Nature in the plenitude of its diverse,
illimitable, and transcendent manifestations, I cannot go farther and
predicate with the Pantheist the unity of its intelligence and
consciousness. This is the inability, rather than any design of my
own, which has exposed me to the unacceptable designation of
Atheist.
One has said, I know not whether in the spirit of scorn or suffering,
but I repeat it in the spirit of truth—‘ What went before and what
will follow me, I regard as two black impenetrable curtains, which
hang down at the two extremities of human life, and which no living
man has yet drawn aside. Many hundreds of generations have
already stood before them with their torches, guessing anxiously what
lies behind.. On the curtain of futurity many see their own shadows,
the forms of their passions enlarged and put in motion; they shrink
in terror at this image of themselves.. Poets, philosophers,, and
founders of states, have painted this curtain with their dreams, more
smiling or more dark as the sky above them was cheerful or gloomy;
and their pictures deceive the eye when viewed from a distance.
Many jugglers, too, make profit of this our universal curiosity: by
their strange mummeries they have set the outstretched fancy in
amazement. A deep silence reigns behind this curtain ; no one once
within will answer those he has left without; all you can hear is a
hollow echo of your question, as if you shouted into a chasm.’*
Theology boasts that it has obtained an answer. What is it ? The
world will stand still to hear it. Worshipper of Jesus, of Jehovah,
of Allah, of Bramah—in conventicle, cathedral, mosque, temple, or in
unbounded nature—what is the secret of the universe, and the destiny
of man ? What knowest thou more than thy fellows, and what dost
thou adore? He has no secret to tell. You have still the old
dual answer of centuries, given in petulance or contempt—‘ All the
world have heard it, and so has youor, ‘ None can understand the
Infinite, and you must submit.’ The solution of the problem must
therefore be sought independently.
Separate individual man from the traditions of theology, and what
is his history? A few years ago he sprang into existence like 9
�It,
THE LOGIC OF DEATH.
The actuality of life apart from theology
*
bubble on the ocean, or a flower on the plain. He came from the
blank chaos of the past, where consciousness was never known, where
no gleam of the present ever pierces, no voice of the future is ever
heard. He exists—but in what age he appears, or among what people
or circumstances he is thrown, is to him a matter of accident; To him
no control, no choice is vouchsafed. His physical constitution, his
powers and susceptibilities, his proportion of health or disease, are
made for him: and fettered in nature and fixed in sphere, he goes
forth to struggle or to triumph, and encounter the war of elements
and strife of passion, and oppose himself to ignorance, error, and
interest, as best he may.
Three or four years pass away before sentient existence is lighted
with the spark of consciousness, which burns faintly, intensely, or
flickeringly till death. Gradually the phenomena of the universe
disclose themselves to man. The ocean in its majesty, or the earth in
its variety, engage him—spring is exhilarating, summer smiling,
autumn foreboding, winter stern. By day the sun, by night the moon
and stars, look down like the eyes of Time watching his movements.
Above him is inconceivable altitude—around him, unbounded dis
tance—below, unfathomable profundity; and he arrives at such idea
as man has of the infinite. What is, seems to exist of its own inherent
power. It always wvas, or it could not be. The idea of universal
non-entity is instinctively rejected. Utter annihilation never enters
into his most desultory conceptions. The sentiment of the Everlasting
seems the first fruit of meditation, as an impression of the Infinite was
the first lesson of comprehensive observation. Man stands connected
with the infinite by position, and is related to the eternal in his
origin, and an emotion of conscious dignity follows the first exercise
cf his reason—and his pride and his confidence are strengthened by
perceiving that this infinite is the infinite of phenomena, and the
eternal that of matter. He may be but the spray dashed carelessly
against the shore, or the meteor-flash that for a moment illumines a
speck of cloud—or a sand of the desert which the whirlwind sweeps
into a transient elevation with scarcely time for distinction: yet he is
sustained by conscious connection with the ever-existing,though ever
changing—his home is with the everlasting, and when he sinks, it is
into the bosom of nature, the magnificent womb and mausoleum of all
life.
As youth advances, and his experience increases, he finds his
knowledge amplified. With nothing intuitive but the aptitude to
learn, he feels that his wisdom is ever commensurate with his industry
or observation—and as even aptitude is but progressively manifested,
he perceives that to attempt the untried, is to develop his being more.
Prematurely wasted by sudden efforts to change the order of society
or influences of things, he sees that nature never hastens, and that in
measured continuity of action lies the rule of success. Neither the
* Thomas Garlyle.
�THE LOGIC Gif xmCATH.
11
The epitaph of a student of nature.
muscle of the gladiator, nor the brain of Newton, acquired at once
their volume or power—the leveling of the mountain or the raising
of the pyramid is not the result of a single hasty attempt, but of
repeated and patient efforts. Thus, while man learns that his degree
of intelligence depends upon his industry and observation, his con
quests depend on the strength of his perseverance—and he looks to
himself, to the exercise of his faculties, and the right direction of his
exertions, both for his knowledge and his power. His lot may be cast
in barbarian caves, where ignorance and wildness ever frown, or under
gilded pinnacle, where learning and refinement are lustrous : he may
have to tread the very rudimental steps of civilisation, or he may
have but to stretch forth his hand to appropriate its spoils—still what
he will be will depend on his aptitudes, and what he will acquire on
his discrimination, application, assiduity, and intrepidity.
As his improvement, so also his protection depends on his own pre
cautions. lie defends himself from the inclemency of the elements
by suitable clothing—for health he seeks the salubrious locality,
wholesome, nutritious food, exercise, recreation, and rest in due pro
portion, and observes temperance in all things. His security on land
is the well-built habitation—on the sea, the firmly-built vessel. His
relation to the external world, and the conditions of fraternity with
his fellows, are the physical and social problems he has to solve. He
sees the strength of passion and the educative force of circumstances,
and he studies them to control them. The affairs of men are a process
which he seeks to wisely regulate, not blindly and violently thwart.
The world has two ages—those of fear and love. The barbarian and
incipient past has been the epoch of fear. Even now its dark shadows
lower over us. Love has never yet emerged from poesy and passion,
has not yet put forth half its strength, nor kindness half its power.
These graceful forces of humanity, whose victory is that of peace,
have scarcely invaded the dominions of war—but Love will one day
step into the throne of Fear, the arts of peace become the business
of life, and fraternity the watch-word of joyous nations. Plainly, as
though written with the finger of Orion on the vault of night, does
man read this future in his heart. The impulse of affection that leaps
unbidden in his breast, though suppressed in competitive strife, or
withered by cankering cares, yet returns in the woodland walk and
the midnight musing, ever whispering of something better to be
realised than war, and dungeons, and isolated wealth have yet brought
us. The student of self and nature, thus impressed, goes forth in the
busy scene of life, to improve and to please. The attributes which
rationalism prescribes to man, are perennial discretion and kindness.
Thus I have believed. I accepted the order of things I found with
out complaint, and I attempted their improvement without despair—
and it might be written on my tomb,
‘ I was not troubled with the time which drova
O'er my content its strong necessities,
But let determined things to destiny
xlold unbewailed their way.’
�19
THE LOGIC OF DEATH.
The physical fear of death as groundless as the theological.
And looking out from the bed of death, over the dim sea of the
future, on which no voyager’s bark is seen returning, I can place no
dependence on priestly dogmas, which all life has belied. The paltry
visions of gilt trumpets and angels’ wings seem like the visions of
irony or levity. The reality it is more heroic to contemplate. The
darkness and mystery of the future create a longing for unravelment.
The enigma of life makes the poetry of death, and. invests with a
sublime interest the last venture on untried existence.
Many honest and intelligent persons, who do not feat the future,
fear the transit to it. Novelists and dramatists, in illustrating a false
theory of crime, adopted from the Churches, have drawn exaggerated
pictures of the aspects of death, through which the popular idea of
dying has become melodramatic, and as far from truth and nature, as
is the extravagance of melodrama from the pure tone of simple and
noble tragedy.
A little reflection will show us that the physical fear some have of
death is as groundless as the moral. Eminent physicians have shown
that death being always preceded by the depression of the nervous
system, life must always terminate without feeling While appre
hension is vivid, while a scream of terror or pain can be uttered, death
is still remote. Organic disease, or a mortal blow, may end existence
with a sudden pang, but in the majority of cases men pass out of life as
unconsciously as they came into it. To the well-informed, death, in
its gradualness and harmlessness, is, what Homer called it—the half
brother of sleep: and the wise expect it undisturbed; and if they
have no reason to welcome it, bear it like any other calamity.
Were we not from childhood the victims of superstitions, we should
always regard death thus; but priests make death the rod whereby
they whip the understanding into submission to untenable dogmas.
For men know no independence, and are at the mercy of every strong
imposition, while they fear to die. That ancient spoke a noble truth
who said nothing could harm that man—tyranny had no terrors with
which it could subdue him who had conquered the fear of the grave.
How often progress has been arrested—how often good men have
faltered in their course—how often philosophy has concealed its light,
and science denied its own demonstrations, only because the priest
has pointed to his distorted image of death!
Among people of cultivated intelligence the idea of a punishing
God is morally repulsive. It is rejected as a fact because demoralising
as an example. The Unitarian principle, which trusts God and never
fears him, is the instinct of civilisation: it gains ground every day
and in every quarter. The parent coerces his child in order to cor
rect him, because the parent wants patience, or time, or wisdom, or
humanity. But as God is assumed to want none of these qualities, he
can attain any end of government he wishes by instruction, for in
moral discipline ‘it is not conduct but character which has to be
changed.’ In Francis William Newman’s portraiture of Christian
attributes, he enumerates ‘love, compassion, patience, disinterested-
�THE LOGIC OF DEATH.
The Golden Rule considered as a maxim of the Last Judgment.
aess,’ qualities incompatible with the sentiment of eternal punishment
—and as was before observed, God cannot be supposed as falling short
of the virtues of cultivated Christians. If we accept the hypothesis of
God, we must agree with Mr. Newman that ‘ all possible perfectness
of man’s spirit must be a mere faint shadow of the divine perfection.’
‘ The thought that any should have endless woe,
Would cast a shadow on the throne of God,
And darken heaven.’
The greatest aphorism ascribed to Christ, called his Golden Rule,
tells us that we should do unto others as we would others should do
unto us. It is not moral audacity, but a logical and legitimate
application of this maxim, to say that if men shall eventually stand
before the bar of God, God will not pronounce upon any that appalling
sentence, ‘ Cast them into outer darkness : there shall be weeping and
gnashing of teeth;’ because this will not be doing to others as he, in
the same situation, would wish to be done unto himself. If frail man is
to ‘ do good to them that hate him,’ God, who is said to be also Love,
will surely not burn those who, in their misfortune and blindness,
have erred against him. He who is above us all in power, will be also
above us all in magnanimity.
Wonderful is the imbecility of the people! The rich man is con
ceded the holiest sepulchre in the Church, although his wealth be won
by extortion or chicane, or selfishly hoarded while thousands of his
brethren have perished, while children have grown up hideous for
want of food, while women have stooped consumptive over the needle,
and men have died prematurely of care and toil. The priest-soothed
conscience feels no terror on the pillow of plethoric affluence—then
why should the poor man be uneasy in death ? Kings and queens, who
cover their brows with diadems stained with human blood, and main
tain their regal splendour out of taxes extorted from struggling
industry, are, in their last hours, assured by the highest spiritual
authorities of their free admission to Heaven, and Poets-Laureat have
sung of their welcome there—then why should the obscure man be
tremulous as to acceptance at the hand of Him who is called the God
of the poor ? The aristocracy pass from time unmolested by death-bed
apprehensions, although they hold fast to privilege and splendour,
though their tenants expire on the fireless hearth, or on the friendless
mattrass of the Poor Law Union—then why should the people enter
tain dread ? While every tyrant who has fettered his country—and
every corrupt minister who has plotted for its oppression, or betrayed
its freedom to the ‘ Friends of Order ’—is committed to the grave ‘ in
the sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection ’—why should the
indigent patriot fear to die ? While even the bishop, who federates
with the despots, and gives his vote almost uniformly against the people
—while the Priests, Catholic, Protestant, or Dissenting, work into the
hands of the government against the poor, and fulminate celestial
menaces against those whose free thoughts reject the fetters of
their creeds—while these can die in peace, what have the honest
�14
THE LOGIC OF DEATH.
It is only the slave soul that imagines a tyrant God.
and the independent to fear ?
If the insensate monarch, the
sordid millionaire, the rapacious noble, the false politician, and
the servile clergyman, meet death with assurance, surely humble
industry, patient merit, and enduring poverty, need not own a
tremor or heave a sigh ! If we choose to live as freemen, let us at
least have the dignity to die so, nor discredit the privilege of liberty
by an unmanly bearing. If we have the merit of integrity, we should
also have its peace—while we have the destiny of suffering we should
not have less than its courage !
The truth is, if we do not know how to die, it is because we do not
know how to live. If we know ourselves, we know that when we
can preserve the temper of love, and of service, by which love is
manifested, and of endurance, by which love is proved, we acquire
that healthy sense of duty done which casts out fear. They who
constantly mean well and do well, know not what it is to dread ill.
And the fearless are also the free, and the free have no foreboding.
‘It is only the slave soul which dreads a tyrant God.’* Therefore—
‘ So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, that moves
To that mysterious realm where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night
Scourged to his dungeon; but approach thy gravo
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.’f
�THE LOGIC OF DEATH*
13
The Queen’s Views.
Since this article was written in 1849, the religions doctrine o'
death in England has entirely changed. The highest minds in
the Church of England, the most cultivated preachers among the
Dissenters have, in some cases, since originated, and in others, now
accept views similar in spirit to those advocated in these pages.
Bishop Colenso found that when the honest and clear thinking
Kafir of Natal was told of the “dreadful judgment of God,” which
an ignorant orthodox Missionary carried to him, he replied with
great simplicity but with natural dignity and resolution—‘ If
that be so we would rather not hear about it;’ and the
Bishop has found the means of proving, even from St. Paul him
self, that the doctrine of eternal punishment is alien to the genius
of Christianity and must be given up. Professor Maurice, the
most influential name in the Church of England, now teaches
that the conception of punishment by physical pain is a gross idea,
and that the sense of having incurred God’s moral displeasure is the
deepest natural punishment to the spiritual man. Her Majesty
the Queen has authorised the publication, since the death of the
Prince, of ‘ Meditations on Death and Eternity, of which the
*
leading idea is that even ‘ sudden death is a sudden benefit ’ to
those who live well, and that those ‘ who endeavour to make
amends for every fault by noble actions’ ought no more ‘to
dread to appear before God ’ ‘ than a child ought to fear to ap
pear before its loving parent, even though it had not yet con
quered all its faults.’ This is nobler and more humane doctrine
than was ever taught by authority in this country before. But
incomparably the finest passage in the whole compass of litera
ture, which depicts the spirit in which all should conduct life so
as to meet death in a patient and noble way, is from the pen of
Mazzini. It occurred in a criticism upon George Sand, in an
article in the Monthly Chronicle in 1839. It contains the whole
of that philosophy which has given to Italy its heroes and its
freedom, .and taught the Italian patriots in so many forlorn
struggles how to die without sadness and without regret. The
sublime passage is this—‘ Schiller, the poet of grand thoughts,
Las said, I Those only love that love without hope.” There is in
these few words more than poetry ; they contain a whole religious
philosophy that we do not yet well understand, but that futurity
will. Life is a mission; its end is not the search after happiness,
but the knowledge andfulfilment of duty. Love is not enjoyment,
it is devotedness. If on the path of duty and devotedness God
sends us some beams of happiness, let us bless God, and bask our
limbs enfeebled by the fatigues of the journey ; but let us not
suspend it for long; let us not say—“We have found the secret
of existence, for the action of the law of our existence cannot be
concentrated in ourselves; its development must be pursued from
'Without. And if we meet only suffering, still march on ; suffer and
�THE LOGIC i'F DEATH.
Mazzini’s Views.
ad. God will measure our progress towards him not by what
we have suffered, but by how much we have desired to diminish the
sufferings of others, by how much our efforts have been directed to
the saving and the perfecting our brethren.''' Of those who believe
in God intelligently, this is the language they hold—and those
who are not Theists, this is the doctrine they trust. People who
say they could not be happy with the convictions of the Atheist,
the Sceptic, or the Heretic, speak merely for themselves; they do
not speak for us. With regard to us, they speak of that of which
they know nothing, and of that of which they have no experience.
With their views what they say may be true. But different views
and different principles bring with them their own consolations.
Conviction makes all the difference. It is not the formal creed
which gives mental support, but the consciousness of truth and
integrity and pure intent. Nothing can disturb the peace of mind
of those armed by a fortitude founded on love and justice, on rec
titude and reason.
�
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The logic of death, or, why should the atheist fear to die?
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Edition: Enlarged and rev. ed.
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Text
THE
Principles of Secularism
Sllustratem
BY
GEORGE JACOB
HOLYOAKE.
“Do the duty nearest hand,”—Goethe.
[third
edition, revised.]
LONDON:
BOOK STORE, 282, STRAND ;
Austin
& co.,
17,
Johnson’s court, fleet street.
1870
t
• XMt i i
m J C 4^4
t**A.-M4* *-I
»
�“ If you think it right to differ from the times, and to make a stand for any
valuable point of morals, do it, however rustic, however antiquated, how
ever pedantic it may appear ; do it, not for insolence, but seriously—as a
man who wore a soul of his own in his bosom, and did not wait till it was
breathed into him by the breath of fashion.”—'The Rev. Sidney Smith,
Canon of St. Paul’s.
�CONTENTS.
•PAGE.
Chapter
I.—Introductory.
Chapter
II.—The Term Secularism.
5
8
Chapter
III.—Principles of Secularism Defined,
11
Chapter
IV.—Laws of Secular Controversy.
Chapter
V.—Maxims of Association.
•14
16
Chapter
VI.—The Secular Guild.
18
Chapter VII.—Organization Indicated.
2'1
Chapter VIII.—The Place of Secularism.
25
Chapter
IX.—Characteristics of Secularism,
2.7
��5
INTRODUCTORY.
CHAPTER I.
N a passage of characteristic sagacity, Dr. J. H. Newman
has depicted the partisan aimlessness more descriptive
of the period when this little book first appeared, sixteen years
ago, than it is now. But it will be long before its relevance and
instruction have passed away. I therefore take the liberty of
still quoting his words :—
“ When persons for the first time look upon the world of
politics or religion, all that they find there meets their mind’s
eye, as a landscape addresses itself for the first time to a
person who has just gained his bodily sight. One thing is as
far off as another; there is no perspective. The connection
of fact with fact, truth with truth, the bearing of fact
upon truth, and truth upon fact,. what leads to what,
what are points primary and what secondary, all this
they have yet to learn. It is all a new science to them,
and they do not even know their ignorance of it. Moreover,
the world of to-day has no connection in their minds with the
world of yesterday; time is not a stream, but stands before
them round and full, like the moon. They do not know what
happened ten years ago, much less the annals of a century:
the past does not live to them in the present; they do not
understand the worth of contested points; names have no
associations for them, and persons kindle no recollections.
They hear of men, and things, and projects, and struggles,
and principles; but everything comes and goes like the wind;
nothing makes an impression, nothing penetrates, nothing has
its place in their minds. They locate nothing : they have no
system. They hear and they forget ; or they just recollect
what they have once heard, they cannot tell where. Thus
they have no consistency in their arguments; that is, they
argue one way to-day, and not exactly the other way
to-morrow, but indirectly the other way at random. Their
�6
INTRODUCTORY.
lines of argument diverge ; nothing comes to a point; there
is no one centre in which their mind sits, on which their
judgment of men and things proceeds. This is the state of
many men all through life; and miserable politicians or Church
men they make, unless by good luck they are in safe hands,
and ruled by others, or are pledged to a course. Else they
are at the mercy of the wind and waves ; and without being
Radical, Whig, Tory, or Conservative, High Church or Low
Church, they do Whig acts, Tory acts, Catholic acts, and
Heretical acts, as the fit takes them, or as events or parties
drive them. And sometimes when their self importance is
hurt, they take refuge in the idea that all this is a proof that
they are unfettered, moderate, dispassionate, that they observe
the mean, that they are no ‘ party menwhen they are, in
fact, the most helpless of slaves; for our strength in this world
is, to be the subjects of the reason and our liberty, to be
captives of the truth.”*
How the organization of ideas has fared with higher class
societies others can tell: the working class have been left so
much in want of initiative direction that almost everything has
to be done among them, and an imperfect and brief attempt
to direct those interested in Freethought may meet with some
acceptance. To clamour for objects without being able to
connect them with principles; to smart under contumely with
out knowing how to protect themselves; to bear some lofty
name without understanding the manner in which character
should correspond to profession—this is the amount of the
popular attainment.
In this new Edition I find little to alter and less to add. In
a passage on page 27, the distinction between Secular instruc
tion and Secularism is explained, in these words :—“ Secular
education is by some confounded with Secularism, whereas the
distinction between them is very wide. Secular education
simply means imparting Secular knowledge separately—by
itself, without admixture of Theology with it. The advocate
of Secular education may be, and generally is, also an
advocate of religion; but he would teach religion at another
time and treat it as a distinct subject, too sacred for coercive
admixture into the hard and vexatious routine of a school. He
* “ Loss and Gain,” ascribed to the Rev. Father Newman.
�INTRODUCTORY.
7
would confine the inculcation of religion to fitting seasons and
chosen instruments. He holds also that one subject at a time
is mental economy in learning. Secular education is the policy
of a school—Secularism is the policy of life to those who do
not accept Theology.”
Very few persons admitted that these distinctions existed
when this passage was written in 1854. This year, 1870, they
have been substantially admitted by the Legislature in con
cession made in the National Education Bill. It only remains
to add that the whole text has been revised and re-arranged
in an order which seems more consecutive. The portion on
Secular Organizations has been abridged, in part re-written,
explaining particulars as to the Secular Guild.
A distinctive summary of Secular principles may be read
under the article “ Secularism,” in Chambers’s Cyclopaedia.
�8
THE TERM SECULARISM.
THE TERM SECULARISM.
CHAPTER II.
“ The adoption of the term Secularism is justified by its including a large
number of persons who are not Atheists, and uniting them for action which
has Secularism for its object, and not Atheism. On this ground, and because,
by the adoption of a new term, a vast amount of impediment from prejudice
is got rid of, the use of the name Secularism is found advantageous.”—
Harriet Martineau. Boston Liberator.—Letter to Lloyd Garrison,
November, 1853.
VERY one observant of public- controversy in England,
is aware of its improved tone of late years. This im
proved tone is part of a wider progress. Increase of wealth
has led to improvement of taste, and the diffusion of knowledge
to refinement of sentiment. The mass are better dressed,
better mannered, better spoken than formerly. A coffeeroom discussion, conducted by mechanics, is now a more
decorous exhibition than a debate in Parliament was in the
days of Canning * Boisterousness at the tables of the rich,
and insolence in the language of the poor, are fast disappear
ing. “ Good society ” is now that society in which people
practise the art of being genial, without being familiar, and in
which an evincible courtesey of speech is no longer regarded
as timidity or effeminacy, but rather as proof of a disciplined
spirit, which chooses to avoid all offence, the better to maintain
the right peremptorily punishing wanton insult. Theologians,
more inveterate in speech than politicians, now observe a
respectfulness to opponents before unknown. That diversity
of opinion once ascribed to “badness of heart” is now, with
more discrimination, referred to defect or diversity of under
standing—a change which, discarding invective, recognizes
instruction as the agent of uniformity.
Amid all this newness of conception it must be obvious that
* From whose lips the House of Commons cheered a reference to a
political adversary as “ the revered and ruptured Ogden.”
�THE TERM SECULARISM;
9
many old terms of theological controversy are obsolete. The
idea of an “ Atheist ” as one warring against moral restraints
—of an “Infidel” as one treacherous to the truth—of a
“ Freethinker ” as a “ loose thinker,”* arose in the darkness
of past times, when men fought by the flickering light of their
hatreds—times which tradition has peopled with monsters of
divinity as well as of nature. But the glaring colours in which
the party names invented by past priests were dyed, no
longer harmonize with the quieter taste of the present day.
The more sober spirit of modern controversy has, therefore,
need of new terms, and if the term “ Secularism ” was merely
a neutral substitute for “ Freethinking,” there would be
reason for its adoption. Dissenters might as well continue
the designation of “ Schismatics,” or Political Reformers that
of “ Anarchists,” as that the students of Positive Philosophy
should continue the designation “Atheism,” “Infidelism,” or
any similar term by which their opponents have contrived to
brand their opinions. It is as though a merchant vessel should
consent to carry a pirate flag. Freethinker is, however,
getting an acceptable term. Upon the platform, Christian
disputants frequently claim it, and resent the exclusive
assumption of it by others. These new claimants say, “We
are as much Freethinkers as yourselves,” so that it is neces
sary to define Freethinking. It is fearless thinking, based
upon impartial inquiry, searching on both sides, not regarding
doubt as a crime, or opposite conclusions as a species of moral
poison. Those who inquire with sinister pre-possessions will
never inquire fairly. The Freethinker fears not to follow a
conclusion to the utmost limits of truth, whether it coincides
with the Bible or contradicts it. If therefore any pronounce
the term “ Secularism ” “ a concealment or a disguise,” they
can do so legitimately only after detecting some false meaning
it is intended to convey, and not on the mere ground of its
being a change of name, since nothing can more completely
“ conceal and disguise ” the purposes of Freethought than the
old names imposed upon it by its adversaries, which associate
with guilt its conscientious conclusions and impute to it as out
rages, its acts of self-defence.
Besides the term Secularism, there was another term which
seemed to promise also distinctiveness of meaning—namely,
As the Reverend Canon Kingsley has perversely rendered it.
�IO
THE TERM SECULARISM.
Cosmism, under which adherents would have taken the designa
tion of Cosmists. But this name scientific men would have under
stood in a purely physical sense, after the great example of
Humboldt, and the public would not all have understood it—
besides, it was open to easy perversion in one of its declinations.
Next to this, as a name, stands that of Realism—intrinsically
good. A Society of Realists would have been intelligible,
but many would have supposed it to be some revival of the
old Realists. Moralism, a sound name in itself, is under
Evangelical condemnation as “ mere morality.” Naturalism
would seem an obvious name, were it not that we should
be confounded with Naturalists, to say no more. Some
name must be taken, as was the case with the Theophilanthropists of Paris. Many of them would rather not have
assumed any denomination, but they yielded to the reason
able argument, that if they did not choose one for them
selves, the public would bestow upon them one which
would be less to their liking. Those who took the name
of Philantropes found it exposed them to a pun, which
greatly damaged them: Philantropes was turned into filoux
en troupe.
Historical characteristics, however, seemed to point to a
term which expressed the Secular element in life; a term
deeply engrafted in literature; of irreproachable associations;
a term found and respected in the dictionaries of opponents,
and to which, therefore, they might dispute our right, but
which they could not damage. Instead, therefore, of finding
ourselves self-branded or caricatured by this designation, we
have found opponents claiming it, and disputing with us for
its possession.
�PRINCIPLES OF SECULARISM DEFINED.
II
PRINCIPLES OF SECULARISM DEFINED.
CHAPTER III.
I.
ECULARISM is the study of promoting- human welfare
by material means ; measuring human welfare by the
utilitarian rule, and making the service of others a duty of life.
Secularism relates to the present existence of man, and to action,
the issues of which can be tested by the experience of this life—
having for its objects the development of the physical, moral,
and intellectual nature of man to the highest perceivable
point, as the immediate duty of society: inculcating the
practical sufficiency of natural morality apart from Atheism,
Theism, or Christianity: engaging its adherents in the pro
motion of human improvement by material means, and making
these agreements the ground of common unity for all who
would regulate life by reason and ennoble it by service. The
Secular is sacred in its influence on life, for by purity of mate
rial conditions the loftiest natures are best sustained, and the
lower the most surely elevated. Secularism is a series of
principles intended for the guidance of those who find
Theology indefinite, or inadequate, or deem it unreliable.
It replaces theology, which mainly regards life as a sinful
necessity, as a scene of tribulation through which we pass to a
better world. Secularism rejoices in this life, and regards it as
the sphere of those duties which educate men to fitness for any
future and better life, should such transpire.
A Secularist guides himself by maxims of Positivism,
seeking to discern what is in Nature—what ought to be in
morals—selecting the affirmative in exposition, concerning him
self with the real, the right, and the constructive. Positive
principles are principles which are provable. “A positive
�12
PRINCIPLES OF SECULARISM DEFINED.
precept,” says Bishop Butler> “is a precept the reason of
which we see.” Positivism is policy of material progress.
III.
Science is the available Providence of life. The problem to
be solved by a science of Society, is to find that situation in
which it shall be impossible for a man to be depraved or poor.
Mankind are saved by being served. Spiritual sympathy is a
lesser mercy than that forethought which anticipates and ex
tirpates the causes of suffering. Deliverance from sorrow or
injustice is before consolation—doing well is higher than mean
ing well—work is worship to those who accept Theism, and
duty to those who do not.
IV.
Sincerity, though not errorless, involves the least chance of
error, and is without moral guilt. Sincerity is well-informed,
conscientious conviction, arrived at by intelligent examination,
animating those who possess that conviction to carry it into
practice from a sense of duty. Virtue in relation to opinion
consists neither in conformity nor non-conformity, but in sincere
beliefs, and in living up to them.
V.
Conscience is higher than *
Consequence.
VI.
All pursuit of good objects with pure intent is religiousness
in the best sense in which this term appears to be used. A
“ good object ” is an object consistent with truth, honour,
justice, love. A pure “ intent ” is the intent of serving
humanity. Immediate service of humanity is not intended
to mean instant gratification, but “ immediate ” in contradistinc
tion to the interest of another life. The distinctive peculiarity
of the Secularist is, that he seeks that good which is dictated
by Nature, which is attainable by material means, and which
is of immediate service to humanity—a religiousness to which
the idea of God is not essential, nor the denial of the idea
necessary.
Vide Mr. Holdreths’ Papers.
�PRINCIPLES OF SECULARISM DEFINED.
13
VII.
Nearly all inferior natures are susceptible of moral
and physical improvability; this improvability can be indefinitely secured by supplying- proper material conditions;
these conditions may one day be supplied by a system of wise
and fraternal co-operation, which primarily entrenches itself
in common prudence, which enacts service according1 to
industrial capacity, and distributes wealth according- to rational
needs. Secular principles involve for mankind a future,
where there shall exist unity of condition with infinite diversity
of intellect, where the subsistence of ignorance and selfishness
shall leave men equal, and universal purity enable all things
—noble society, the treasures of art, and the riches of
the world—to be had in common.
VIII.
Since it is not capable of demonstration whether the
i nequalties ofhuman condition will be compensated for in another
life—it is the business of intelligence to rectify them in this
world. The speculative worship of superior beings, who
cannot need it, seems a lesser duty than the patient service
•of known inferior natures, and the mitigation of harsh
destiny, so that the ignorant may be enlightened and the
low elevated.
,t
�LAWS OF SECULAR CONTROVERSY.
LAWS OF SECULAR CONTROVERSY.
CHAPTER IV.
I.
IGHTS of Reason. As a means of developing- and
establishing- Secular principles, and as security that the
principles of Nature and the habit of reason may prevail,
Secularism uses itself, and maintains for others, as rights of
reason:—
The Free Search for Truth, without which its full attainment
is impossible.
The Free Utterance of the result, without which the increase
of Truth is limited.
The Free Criticism of alleged Truth, without which its
identity must remain uncertain.
The Fair Action of Conviction thus attained, without which
conscience will be impotent on practice.
II.
Standard of Appeal. “Secularism accepts no authority
but that of Nature, adopts no methods but those of science
and philosophy, and respects in practice no rule but that of
the conscience, illustrated by the common sense of mankind.
It values the lessons of the past, and looks to tradition as
presenting a storehouse of raw materials to thought, and in
many cases results of high wisdom for our reverence; but it
utterly disowns tradition as a ground of belief, whether
miracles and supernaturalism be claimed or not claimed on its
side. No sacred scripture or ancient church can be made
a basis of belief, for the obvious reason that their claims always
need to be proved, and cannot without absurdity be assumed.
The association leaves to its individual members to yield
whatever respect their own good sense judges to be due to
the opinions of great men, living or dead, spoken or written,
�LAWS OF SECULAR CONTROVERSY.
15
as also to the practice of ancient communities, national or
ecclesiastical. But it disowns all appeal to such authorities as
final tests of truth.”*
III.
Sphere of Controversy. Since the principles of Secular
ism rest on grounds apart from Theism, Atheism, or Christianism, it is not logically necessary for Secularists to debate the
truth of these subjects. In controversy, Secularism concerns
itself with the assertion and maintenance of its own affirma
tive propositions, combating only views of Theology and
Christianity so far as they interfere with, discourage, or dispa
rage Secular action, which may be done without digressing
into the discussion of the truth of Theism or divine origin of
the Bible.
IV.
Personal Controversy.
A Secularist will avoid indis
criminate disparagement of bodies or antagonism of persons,
and will place before himself simply the instruction and service
of an opponent, whose sincerity he will not question, whose
motives he will not impugn, always holding that a m.an whom
it is not worth while confuting courteously, is not worth while
confuting at all. Such disparagements as are included in the
explicit condemnation of erroneous principles are, we believe,
all that the public defence of opinion requires, and are the only
kind of disparagement a Secularist proposes to employ.
V.
Justification of Controversy.
The universal fair and open
discussion of opinion is the highest guarantee of public
truth—only that theory which is submitted to that ordeal is to
be regarded, since only that which endures it can be trusted.
Secularism encourages men to trust reason throughout, and
to trust nothing that reason does not establish—to examine
all things hopeful, respect all things probable, but rely upon
nothing without precaution which does not come within the
range of science and experience.
* “Programme of Freethought
(Reasoner, No. 388.)
Societies,” by F. W.
Newman.
�16
MAXIMS OF ASSOCIATION,
MAXIMS
OF ASSOCIATION.
CHAPTER V,
I.
T is the duty of every man to regulate his personal
and family interests so as to admit of some exertions
for the improvement of society. It is only by serving
those beyond ourselves that we can secure for ourselves
protection, sympathy, or honour. The neglect of home for
public affairs endangers philanthropy, by making it the enemy
of the household. To suffer, on the other hand, the interests
of the family to degenerate into mere selfism, is a dangerous
example to rulers.
II.
“ No man or woman is accountable to others for an^
conduct by which others are not injured or damaged.”*
III.
Social freedom consists in being subject to just rule and
to none other.
IV.
Service and endurance are the chief personal duties
of man.
V.
Secularism holds it to be the duty of every man to reserve
a portion of his means and energies for the public service, and
so to cultivate and cherish his powers, mental and physical, as
* D. in the Leader, 1850, who, as a correspondent, first expressed
this aphorism thus.
�MAXIMS OF ASSOCIATION.
17
to have them ever ready to perform service, as efficient as
possible, to the well-being of humanity. No weakness, no
passion, no wavering, should be found among those who are
battling for the cause of human welfare, which such errors
may fatally injure. Self-control, self-culture, self-sacrifice, are
all essential to those who would serve that cause, and wouldnot bring discredit upon their comrades in that service.
*
VI.
To promote in good faith and good temper the immedi
ate and material welfare of humanity, in accordance with the
laws of Nature, is the study and duty of a Secularist,
and this is the unity of principle which prevails amid whatever
diversity of opinion may subsist in a Secular Society, the bond
of union being the common convictions of the duty of advancing
the Secular good of this life, of the authority of natural
morality, and of the utility of material effort in the work of
human improvement. In other words, Secularist union implies
the concerted action of all who believe it right to promote the
Secular good of this life, to teach morality, founded upon the
laws of Nature, and to seek human improvement by material
methods, irrespective of any other opinions held, and irre
spective of any diversity of reasons for holding these.
* Mr. L. H. Holdreth, Religion of Duty.
�i8
THE SECULAR GUILD.
THE SECULAR GUILD.
CHAPTER VI.
EVERAL expositors of Secular principles, able to act
together, have for many years endeavoured by counsel,
by aid and by publication to promote Secular organiza
tion. At one time they conducted a Secular Institute in Fleet
Street, London—in 1854. The object was to form Secular
Societies for teaching the positive results of Freethought. In
the first edition of this work it was held to be desirable that there
should be a centre of reference for all inquirers upon Secular
principles at home and abroad. Attention should be guar
anteed to distant correspondents and visitors, so that means of
communication and publication of all advanced opinions in soci
ology, theology, and politics might exist, and be able to com
mand publicity, when expressed dispassionately, impersonally,
and with ordinary good taste.
It has been generally admitted that the operations at that
time conducted, helped to impart a new character to Freethought advocacy, and many of its recommendations have
since been copied by associations subsequently formed. The
promoters of Secularism alluded to, have not ceased in the
Reasoner and other publications, by lectures, by statements, by
articles, by pamphlets to urge a definite and consistent repre
sentation of Secular and Freethought principles: as many
mistake merely mechanical association for the organization
of ideas.
The promoters in question have since adopted the form of
action of a Secular Guild, and continue the Reasoner (of which
there is now issued a “ Review Series ”) as their organ. The
objects of a Council of the Guild is to promote, as far as means
may permit, or counsel prevail, organization of ideas:—
I.—To train Advocates of Secular principles.
�THE SECULAR GUILD.
19
2. —To advise an impersonal policy of advocacy, which seeking to carry its
ends by force of exposition, rather than of denunciation, shall command the
attention and respect of those who influence public affairs.
3. —To promote solution of political, social, and educational questions on
Secular and unsectarian grounds.
*
4. —To point out new Books of Secular relevance, and where possible, to
accredit Advocates of Secularism that the public may have some guidance,
and the party be no longer liable to be judged by whoever may appeai
to write or speak on the subject.
5. —To assist in the protection and defence of those injured, or attempted to
be injured on account of Freethought or Secularist opinion.
6. —To provide for the administration of property bequeathed for Secular
purposes, of which so much has been lost through the injustice of the law,
and machinations of persons opposed to Liberal views.
7. —When a member has been honourably counted on the side of Secularism,
has been a Subscriber or a Worker for a term of years, the Guild, keeping
a record of such Service, proposes to give a Certificate of it which among
Friends of Freethought may be a passport to recognition and esteem. To
constitute some such Freemasonry in Freethought, may elevate associa
tion in England. A certificate of Illuminism or of Carbonarism in Italy
was once handed down from father to son as an heirloom of honour, while
in England you have to supplicate men to join a society of progression,
instead of membership being a distinction which men shall covet. At
present a man who has given the best years of his life to the public service
is liable (if from any necessity he ceases to act) to be counted a renegade
by men who have never rendered twelve months’ consecutive or costly
service themselves. There ought to be a fixed term of Service, which, if
honourably and effectively rendered, should entitle a man to be considered
free, as a soldier after leaving the army, and his certificate of having
belonged to the Order of Secularism should entitle him to distinction and
to authority when his opinion was sought, and to exemption from all but
voluntary service. At present the soldiers of Progress, w’hen no longer
able to serve, are dismissed from the public eye, like the race-horse to the
cab stand, to obscurity and neglect. This needs correction before men can
be counted upon in the battle of Truth. A man is to be estimated
according to the aims of the party to which he is allied. He is to be
esteemed in consequence of sacrifices of time, and discipline of conduct,
which he contributes to the service and reputation of his cause.
In foreign countries many persons reside interested in
Secularism; in Great Britain indeed many friends reside where
* This has been done to some extent in the discussion of the National
Education question. The Proposer of the Guild contributed what he could
to this end by reading the paper published in the proceedings of the Con
ference of the Birmingham Education League, by letters like that to the
Daily News, commented upon by the Bishop of Peterborough, at Leicester
[see official publications of the Manchester National Education Union,] by
discussions as those with the Revs. Pringle and Baldwin, at Norwich, and
with Mr. Chas. Bradlaugh, at the Old Street Hall of Science, London; and
by Lectures during the time the question of National Education has been
before Parliament.
�20
THE SECULAR GUILD.
no Secular Society is formed; and in these cases membership
of the Guild would be advantageous to them, affording means
of introduction to publicists of similar views: and even in
instances of towns where Secular Societies do exist, persons in
direct relation to the Secular Guild would be able to furnish
Secular direction where the tradition and usage of a Secular
Society are unknown, or unfamiliar.
�ORGANIZATION INDICATED.
21
ORGANIZATION INDICATED.
CHAPTER VII.
S the aim of the Guild is not to fetter independent thought,
but to concert practical action, it is mainly required
of each member that he undertakes to perform, in good
faith, the duties which he shall consent to have assigned to him;
and generally so to comport himself that his principles shall not
be likely to suffer, if judged by his conduct. He will be expected
to treat every colleague as equal with himself in veracity, in
honour, and in loyalty to his cause. And every form of speech
which casts a doubt upon the truth, or imputes, or assumes a
want of honour on the part of any member, will be deemed a
breach of order. If any member intends such an accusation
of another, it must be made the matter of a formal charge,
after leave obtained to prefer it.
What it is desirable to know about new members is this: —
Do they, in their conception of Secularism, see in it that which seeks not
the sensual but the good, and a good which the conscience can be engaged
in pursuing and promoting; a Moralism in accordance with the laws of
•Nature and capable of intrinsic proof: a Materialism which is definite
without dogmatism or grossness ; and a unity on the ground of these com
mon agreements, for convictions which imply no apostolate are neither
earnest nor generous. No one ought to be encouraged to take sides with
Secularism, unless his conscience is satisfied of the moral rightfulness of its
principles and duties both for life and death.
It is not desirable to accept persons of that class who decry
parties—who boast of being of no party—who preach up
isolation, and lament the want of unity—who think party the
madness of the many, for the gain of the few. Seek rather
the partisan who is wise enough to know that the disparage
ment of party is the madness of the few, leading to the utter im
potence of the many. A party, in an associative and defen
sible sense, is a class of persons taking sides upon some
�22
ORGANIZATION INDICATED.
definite question, and acting- together for necessary ends,
having principles, aims, policy, authority, and discipline.
*
With respect to proposed members, it may be well to
ascertain whether neglect, or rudeness, or insult, or unfairness
from colleagues, or overwork being imposed upon him, or
incapacity of others, would divert him from his duty. These
accidents or necessities might occur: but if a society is to be
strong it must be able to count upon its members, and to be
able to count upon them it must be known what they will
bear without insubordination; and what they will bear will
depend upon the frankness and completeness of information
they receive as to the social risks all run who unite to carry
out any course of duty or public service.
Always assuming that a candidate cares for the objects for
which he proposes to associate, and that it is worth while
knowing whom it is with whom you propose to work them
out; answers to such inquiries as the following would tend to
impart a working knowledge and quality to the society:—
Is he a person previously or recently acquainted with the principles he is
about to profess ?
Does he understand what is meant by “ taking sides ” with a public
party ? Would he be faithful to the special ideas of Secularism so long as he
felt them to be true ? Would he make sacrifices to spread them and vindicate
them, or enable others to do so ? Would he conceive of Secularism as a
cause to be served loyally, which he would support as well as he was able,
if unable to support it as well as he Could wish ?
Is he of decent, moral character, and tolerably reliable as to his future
conduct ?
In presenting his views to others, would he be likely to render them in
an attractive spirit, or to make them disagreeable to others ?
Is he of an impulsive nature, ardent for a time, and then apathetic or
reactionary—likely to antagonize to-morrow the persons he applauds
to-day ?
Is he a person who would commit the fault of provoking persecution ?
Would ridicule or persecution chill him if it occurred? Is he a man to
stand by an obscure and friendless cause—or are notoriety, success, applause,
and the company of others, indispensable to his fidelity ?
Is he a man of any mark of esteem among his friends—a man whose
promise is sure, whose word has weight ?
Is his idea of obedience, obedience simply to his own will? Would he
acquiesce in the authority of the laws of the Society, or the decision of the
Society where the laws were silent ? Would he acknowledge in democracy
the despotism of principles self-consented to—or as an arena for the
* In a school there is usually teaching, training, discipline, science, system,
authorities, tradition, and development.—Times, 1846.
�ORGANIZATION INDICATED.
23
assertion of Individualism before winning the consent of colleagues to the
discussion of special views ?
The membership sought may be granted, provided the
actual knowledge of Secular principles be satisfactory, and
evident earnestness to practise them be apparent. The purport
of the whole of the questions is to enable a clear opinion
to be formed as to what is to be expected of the new
member—how far he is likely to be reliable—how long he is
likely to remain with us—under what circumstances he is
likely to fail us—what work may be assigned him—what
confidences he may be entrusted with, and in what terms he
shculd be introduced to colleagues, and spoken of to others.
The Membership here described would and should be no
restricted and exclusive society, where only one pattern of
efficiency prevails; but a society where all diversities of
capacity, energy, and. worth, may be found, so far as it is
honest and trustworthy. A Society, like the State, requires the
existence of the people, as well as public officers—men who
can act, as well as men who can think and direct Many men
who lack refinement, and even discretion, possess courage and
energy, and will go out on the inevitable “ forlorn hopes ” of
progress; which the merely prudent avoid, arid from which
the cultivated too often shrink. Our work requires all orders
of men, but efficiency requires that we know which is which,
that none may be employed in the dark.
In every public organization there are- persons who promote
and aid unconnected with the Society.
Active members are those who engage to perform specific
duties; such as reporting lectures, sermons, and public meet
ings, so far as they refer to Secularism.
*
To give notice of meetings and sermons about to be held or
delivered for or against Secularism.
To note and report passages in books, newspapers, maga
zines, and reviews referring to Secularism.
Each active member should possess some working efficiency,
or be willing to acquire it. To be able to explain his views
by tongue or pen with simple directness, to observe carefully,
* In reporting, each member should be careful to understate rather than
overstate facts, distinguishing carefully what is matter of knowledge from
rumour, conjecture, or opinion.
�24
ORGANIZATION INDICATED.
to report judiciously, to reason dispassionately, to put the best
construction on every act that needs interpretation, are desir
able accomplishments in a Propagandist.
In all public proceeding’s of the Society, written speeches
should be preferred from the young-, because such speeches
admit of preconsidered brevity, consecutiveness, and purpose,
and exist for reference. In the deliberations and discussions
of any Society, it might usefully be deemed a qualification to
make a contribution to the subject in speeches brief and
direct.
Non-reliableness in discharge of duties, or moral disqualifi
cation, shall be a ground of annulling membership, which
may be done after the member objected to has had a fair
opportunity of defending himself from the specific disqualifi
cations alleged against him and communicated to him, and has
failed therein.
The duties assigned to each member should be such as are
within his means, as respects power and opportunity; such,
indeed, as interfere neither with his social nor civil obligations ;
the intention being that the membership of the Society shall
not as a rule be incompatible with the preservation of health,
and the primary service due to family and the State.
*
Any persons acquainted with the “Principles of Secularism ’’
here given, who shall generally agree therein, and associate
under any name to promote such objects, and to act in concert
with all who seek similar objects, and will receive and take
into official consideration the instructions of the Guild, and to
make one subscription yearly among its members and friends on
behalf of its Propagandist Funds, shall be recognized as a
Branch of it.
* As a general rule, it will be found that any one who sacrifices more
than one-fifth of his time and means will become before long reactionary,
and not only do nothing himself, but discourage others.
�THE PLACE OF SECULARISM.
25
THE PLACE OF SECULARISM.
CHAPTER VIII.
“ We do not, however, deny that, false as the whole theory [of Secularism]
appears to us, it is capable of attracting the belief of large numbers of
people, and of exercising considerable influence over their conduct; and we
should admit that the influence so exercised is considerably better than no
influence at all.”—Saturday Review, July 2, 1859-
HIS first step is to win, from public opinion, a standing place
for Secularism. So long as people believe Secularism
not to be wanted, indeed impossible to be wanted—that it is
error, wickedness, and unmitigated evil, it will receive no
attention, no respect, and make no way. But show that it
occupies a vacant place, supplies a want, is a direction
where no other party supplies any—and it at once appears
indispensable. It is proved to be a service to somebody,
and from that moment it is tolerated if not respected. It
may be like war, or medicine, or work, or law, disagreeable
or unpalatable, but when seen to be necessary, it will have
recognition and support. We are sure this case can be
made out for Secularism. It is not only true, but it is known;
it is not only known, but it is notorious, that there are thou
sands and tens of thousands of persons in every district of
this and most European countries, who are without the pale
of Christianity. They reject it, they disprove it, they dis
like it, or they do not understand it. Some have vices and
passions which Christianity, as preached around them, con
demns. As Devils are said to do, they “ believe and tremble,”
and so disown what they have not the virtue to practise.
Faith does not touch them, and reason is not tried—indeed
reason is decried by the evangelically religious, so that not
being converted in one way, no other way is open to them.
Others are absorbed or insensate; they are busy, or stupid,
or defiant, and regard Christianity as a waste of time, or as
monotonous or offensive. It bores them or threatens them.
They are already dull, therefore it does not attract them—
they have some rude sense of independence and some feeling
of courage, and they object either to be snubbed into con
formity or kicked into heaven. Another and a yearly
increasing portion of the people have, after patiently and
�26
THE PLACE OF SECULARISM.
painfully thinking over Christianity, come to believe it to be
untrue; unfounded historically; wrong morally, and a dis
creditable imputation upon God. It outrages their affections,
it baffles their understandings. It is double tongued. Its
expounders are always multiplying, and the more they increase
the less they agree, and hence sceptics the more abound.
Disbelievers therefore exist; they augment: they can neither
be convinced, converted, nor conciliated, because they will yield
no allegiance to a system which has no hold on their conscience.
It is, we repeat, more than known, it is notorious that these
persons live and die in scepticism. These facts are the cry of
the pulpit, the theme of the platform, the burden of the
religious tract. Now, is nothing to be done with these people ?
You cannot exterminate them, the Church cannot direct them.
The Bible is no authority to them—the “ will of God,” as the
clergy call it, in their eyes is mere arbitrary, capricious, dog
matical assumption; sometimes, indeed, wise precept, but
oftener a cloak for knavery or a pretext for despotism. To
open the eyes of such persons to the omnipresent teachings of
Nature, to make reason an authority with them, to inspire them
with precepts which experience can verify—to connect con
science with intelligence, right with interest, duty with selfrespect, and goodness with love, must surely be useful. If
Secularism accomplishes some such work, where Christianity
confessedly accomplishes nothing, it certainly has a place of
its own. It is no answer to it to claim that Christianity is higher,
more complete, better. The advocates of every old religion, say
the same. Christianity may be higher, more complete, better
—for somebody else. But nothing can be high, complete, or
good, for those who do not see it, accept it, want it, or act
upon it. That is first which is fit—that is supreme which is
most productive of practical virtue. No comparison (which
would be as irrelevant as offensive) between Secularism and
Christianity is set up here. The question is—is Secularism
useful, or may it be useful to anybody ? The question is not—
does it contain all truth ? but does it contain as much as may
be serviceable to many minds, otherwise uninfluenced for good ?
Arithmetic is useful though Algebra is more compendious.
Mensuration performs good offices in hands ignorant of Euclid.
There may be logic without Whately, and melody without
Beethoven; and there may be Secular ethics which shall be
useful without the pretension of Christianity.
�CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
27
CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
CHAPTER IX.
I.
ECULARISM means the moral duty of man in this life
deduced from considerations which pertain to this life
alone. Secular education is by some confounded with
Secularism, whereas the distinction between them is very wide.
Secular education simply means imparting Secular knowledge
separately—by itself, without admixture of Theology with it.
The advocate of Secular education may be, and generally is, also
an advocate of religion • but he would teach religion at another
time and treat it as a distinct subject, too sacred for coercive ad
mixture into the hard and vexatious routine of a school. He would
confine the inculcation of religion to fitting seasons and chosen
instruments. He holds also that one subject at a time is
mental economy in learning. Secular education is the policy
of a school—Secularism is a policy of life to those who do
not accept Theology. Secularity draws the line of separation
between the things of time and the things of eternity. That
is Secular which pertains to this world. The distinction may
be seen in the fact that the cardinal propositions of Theology
are provable only in the next life, and not in this. If I believe
in a given creed it may turn out to be the true one; but
one must die to find that out. On this side of the grave
all is doubt; the truth of Biblical creeds is an affair of
hope and anxiety, while the truth of things Secular becomes
apparent in time. The advantages arising from the practice
of veracity, justice, and temperance can be ascertained from
human experience. If we are told to “ fear God and keep
His commandments,” lest His judgments overtake us, the in
direct action of this doctrine on human character may make a
vicious timid man better in this life, supposing the interpretation
ofthe will of God,and the commandments selected to be enforced,
are moral; but such teaching is not Secular, because its main
�28
CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
object is to fit men for eternity. Pure Secular principles have
for their object to fit men for time, making- the fulfilment of
human duty here the standard of fitness for any accruing
future. Secularism purposes to regulate human affairs by
considerations purely human.
Its principles are founded
upon Nature, and its object is to render man as perfect as
possible in this life. Its problem is this: Supposing- no other
life to be before us, what is the wisest use of this ? As the Rev.
Thomas Binney puts it, “ I believe * * that even * * if
there were really no God over him, no heaven above, or eternity
in prospect, thing-s are so constituted that man may turn the
materials of his little life poem, if not always into a grand
epic, mostly into something of interest and beauty; and it is
worth his while doing so, even if there should be no sequel
to the piece.’’* Chalmers, Archbishop Whately, and earlier
distinguished divines of the Church of England, the most con
spicuous of whom is Bishop Butler, have admitted the
independent existence of morality, but we here cite Mr.
Binney’s words because among Dissenters this truth is less
readily admitted. A true Secular life does not exclude any from
supplementary speculations. Not until we have fulfilled our
duty to man, as far as we can ascertain that duty, can we
consistently pretend to comprehend the more difficult relations
of man to God. Our duties to humanity, understood and dis
charged to the best of our ability, will in no way unfit us to
il reverently meditate on things far beyond us, on Power un
limited, on space unfathomed, on time uncounted, on
‘ whence ’ we came, and ‘ whither ’ we go.”f The leading
ideas of Secularism are humanism, moralism, materialism,
utilitarian unity: Humanism, the physical perfection of this
life—Moralism, founded on the laws of Nature, as the guid
ance of this life—Materialism, as the means of Nature for the
Secular improvement of this life—Unity of thought and action
upon these practical grounds. Secularism teaches that the
good of the present life is the immediate concern of man, and
that it should be his first endeavour to raise it. Secularism
inculcates a Morality founded independently upon the laws of
Nature. It seeks human improvement through purity and suit
ableness of material conditions as being a method at once
moral, practical, universal, and sure.
* “ How to make the best of both worlds,” p. 11.
t F. W. Newman.
�CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
29
II.
The province of Positivism is not speculation upon the
origin, but study of the laws of Nature—its policy is to destroy
error by superseding it. Auguste Comte quotes, as a cardinal
maxim of scientific progress, the words “ nothing is destroyed
until it is replaced,” a proverbial form of a wise saying of
M. Necker that in political progress “ nothing is destroyed for
which we do not find a substitute.” Negations, useful in their
place, are iconoclastic—not constructive. Unless substitution
succeeds destruction—there can be no sustained progress.
The Secularist is known by setting up and maintaining affirm
ative propositions.. He replaces negations by affirmations,
and substitutes demonstration for denunciation. He asserts
truths of Nature and humanity, and reverses the position of
the priest who appears as the sceptic, the denier, the dis
believer in Nature and humanity. Statesmen, not otherwise
eager for improvement, will regard affirmative proposals.
Lord Palmerston could say—“ Show me a good and I will
realize it—not an abuse to correct.”
III.
“All science,” says M. Comte, “ has prevision for its end, an
axiom which separates science from erudition, which relates to
events of the past without any regard to the future. No accumula
tion of facts can effect prevision until the facts are made the basis
of reasonings. A knowledge of phenomena leads to pre
vision, and prevision to actionor, in other words, when we
can foresee what will happen under given circumstances, we
can provide against it. It by no means follows that every
Secularist will be scientific, but to discern the value of
science, to appreciate and promote it, may be possible to most.
Science requires high qualities of accurate observation, close
attention, careful experiment, caution, patience, labour. Its
value to mankind is inestimable. One physician will do more
to alleviate human suffering than ten priests. One physical
discovery will do more to advance civilization than a generation
of prayer-makers. “ To get acquaintance with the usual course
of Nature (which Science alone can teach us), is a kind of
knowledge which pays very good interest.”* The value of this
knowledge becomes more apparent the longer we live. There
* Athenaeum, No. 1,637, March 12, 1859.
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CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
may be a general superintending Providence—there may be
a Special Providence, but the first does not interfere in human
affairs, and the interpositions of the second are no longer to
be counted upon. The age of Prayer for temporal deliver
ance has confessedly passed away. But without disputing
these points, it is clear that the only help available to man,
the sole dependence upon which he can calculate, is that of
Science. Nothing can be more impotent than the fate of that
man who seeks social elevation by mere Faith. All human
affairs are a process, and he alone who acts upon this know
ledge can hope to control results. Loyola foresaw the neces
sity of men acting for human purposes, as though there were
no God. “ Let us pray,” said he, “ as if we had no help in our
selves ; let us labour as if there was no help for us in heaven.”
Society is a blunder, not a science, until it ensures good sense
and competence for the many. Why this process is tardy,
is that creedists get credit for hoping and meaning well.
Creedists of good intent, who make no improvement and
attempt none, are very much in the way of human betterance.
The spiritualist regards the world theoretically as a gross
element, which he is rather to struggle against than to work
with. This makes human service a mortification instead of
pure passion. We would not deify the world, that is, set up
the sensualism of the body, as spiritualism is set up as the
sensualism of the soul. Secularism seeks the material purity
of the present life, which is at once the means and end of Secular
endeavour. The most reliable means of progress is the im
provement of material condition, and “purity” implies “improve
ment,” for there can be no improvement without it. The aim
of all improvement is higher purity. All power, art, civiliza
tion and progress are summed up in the result—purer life.
Strength, intellect, love are measured by it. Duty, study,
temperance, patience are but ministers to this. “ There is that,”
says Ruskin, “ to be seen in every street and lane of every city,
that to be found and felt in every human heart and countenance,
that to be loved in every road-side weed and moss-grown wall,
which, in the hands of faithful men, may convey emotions
of glory and sublimity continual and exalted.”
IV.
It is necessary to point out that Sincerity does not im
ply infallibility. “ There is a truth, which could it be stamped
�CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
31
on every human mind, would exterminate all bigotry and
persecution. I mean the truth, that worth of character and true
integrity, and, consequently, God’s acceptance, are not neces
sarily connected with any particular set of opinions.”* If you
admit that Mark and Paul were honest, most Christians take
that to be an admission of the truth of all related under their
names. Yet if a man in defending his opinions, affirm his
own sincerity, Christians quickly see that is no proof of
their truth, and proceed to disprove them. Sincerity may
account for a man holding his opinions, but it does not account
for the opinions themselves. Nothing is more common than
uninformed, misinformed, mistaken, or self-deluded honesty.
But sincere error, though dangerous enough, has not the
attribute of crime about it—personal intention of mischief.
“ Because human nature is frail and fallible, the ground of
our acceptance with God, under the Gospel, is sincerity. A
sincere desire to know and do the will of God, is the only con
dition of obtaining the Christian salvation. Every honest man
will be saved.But Sincerity, if the reader recurs to our
definition of it, includes a short intellectual and moral
education with respect to it. Those worthy of the high
descriptive “ sincere,” are those who have thought, in
quired, examined, are in earnest, have a sense of duty with
regard to their conviction, which is only satisfied by acting
upon it. These processes may not bring a man to the truth,
but they bring him near to it. The chances of error are
reduced hereby as far as human care can reduce them. Secu
larism holds that the Protestant right of private judgment
includes the moral innocency of that judgment, when conscien
tiously formed, whether for or against received opinion; that
though all sincere opinion is not equally true, nor equally
useful, it is yet equally without sin; that it is not sameness of
belief but sincerity of belief which justifies conduct, whether
regard be had to the esteem of men or the approval of God.
Sincerity, we repeat, is not infallibility. The conscientious
are often as mischievous as the false, but he who acts ac
cording to the best of his belief is free from criminal
intention. The sincerity commended by the Secularist is an
active sentiment seeking the truth and acting upon it—not the
* Dr. Price.
t John Foster’s Tracts on Heresy.
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CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
fortuitous, insipid, apathetic, inherited consent, which so often
passes for honesty, because too indolent or too cowardly to
inquire, and too stupid to doubt. The man who holds merely
ready-made opinions is not to be placed on the same level
with him whose convictions are derived from experience. True
sincerity is an educated and earnest sentiment.
V.
In the formation and judgment of opinions we must
take into account the consequences to mankind involved in
their adoption. But when an opinion seems true in itself
and beneficial to society, the consequences in the way of in
convenience to ourselves is not sufficient reason for refusing- to
act upon it. If a particular time of enforcing- it seem to be
one when it will be disregarded, or misunderstood, or put
back, and the sacrifice of ourselves on its behalf produce no
adequate advantage to society, it may be lawful to seek a
better opportunity. We must, however, take care that this
view of the matter is not made a pretext of cowardice or
evasion of duty. And in no case is it justifiable to belie con
science or profess a belief the contrary of that which we
believe to be true. There may in extreme cases be neutrality
with regard to truth, but in no case should there be com
plicity in falsehood. So much with respect to this life. With
respect to Deity or another life, we may in all cases rely upon
this, that in truth alone is safety. With God, conscience
can have no penal consequences. Conscience is the voice of
honesty, and honesty, with all its errors, a God of Truth will
regard. “We have,” says Blanco White, “no revealed rule
which will ascertain, with moral certainty, which doctrines are
right and which are wrong—that is, as they are known to
God.” * * “ Salvation, therefore, cannot depend on ortho
doxy ; it cannot consist in abstract doctrines, about which
men of equal abilities, virtue, and sincerity are, and always
have been, divided.” * * “ No error on abstract doctrines
can be heresy, in the sense of a wrong belief which endangers
the soul.” - “The Father of the Universe accommodates not
His judgments to the wretched wranglings of pedantic theolo
gians, but every one who seeks truth, whether he findeth it w not,
and worketh righteousness, will be accepted of Him.”* Thomas
Bishop Watson’s Theological Tracts.
Introductory.
�CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
33
Carlyle was the first English writer, having the ear of the pub
lic, who declared in England that “ sincere doubt is as much
entitled to respect as sincere belief. ”
VI.
Going to a distant town to mitigate some calamity there, will
illustrate the principle of action prescribed by Secularism.
One man will go on this errand from pure sympathy with
the unfortunate ; this is goodness. Another goes because his
priest bids him ; this is obedience. Another goes because the
twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew tells him that all such per
sons will pass to the right hand of the Father ; this is calcula
tion. Another goes because he believes God commands him ;
this is piety. Another goes because he believes that the
neglect of suffering will not answer; this is utilitarianism.
But another goes on the errand of mercy, because it is an
errand of mercy, because it is an immediate service to human
ity ; and he goes to attempt material amelioration rather than
spiritual consolation; this is Secularism, which teaches that
goodness is sanctity, that Nature is guidance, that reason is
authority, that service is duty, and that Materialism is help.
VII.
The policy of S.ecular controversy is to distinguish and
assert its own affirmative propositions. It is the policy of Secu
larism not so much to say to error “ It is false,” as to say of
truth “ This is true.” Thus, instead of leaving to the popular
theology the prestige of exclusive affirmation accorded to it
by the world, although it is solely employed in the incessant
re-assertion of error, Secularism causes it to own and publish
its denial of positive principle; when the popular theology
proves itself to be but an organized negation of the moral
guidance of nature and its tendencies to progress. A Secu
larist sees clearly upon what he relies as a Secularist. To
him the teaching of Nature is as clear as the teaching of the
Bible: and since, if God exists, Nature is certainly His work,
while it is not so clear that the Bible is—the teaching of Nature
will be preferred and followed where the teaching of the Bible
appears to conflict with it. A Secular Society, contemplating
intellectual and moral progress, must provide for the freest
expression of opinion on all subjects which its members may
deem conducive to their common objects. Christianism, Theism,
I
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CHARACTERISTICS OE SECULARISM.
Materialism, and Atheism will be regarded as open questions,
subject to unreserved discussion. But these occasions will be
the opportunity of the members, not the business of the society.
All public proceedings accredited by the society should relate
to topics consistent with the common principles of Secularism.
“Innecessary things, unity: in doubtful things, liberty: in all
things, charity.”* The destruction of religious servitude may
be attempted in two ways. It may be denounced, which
will irritate it, or it may be superseded by the servitude of
humanity. Attacking it by denunciation, generally inflames and
precipitates the persecution of the many upon the few; when
the weak are liable to be scattered, the cowardly to recant,
and the brave to perish.
VIIL
The essential rule upon which personal association can
be permanent, or controversy be maintained in the spirit in which
truth can be evolved, is that of never imputing evil motives
nor putting the worst construction on any act. Free Inquiry
has no limits but truth, Free Speech no limits but exactness,
Policy (here the law of speech) no limits but usefulness. Un
fettered and uncompromising are they who pursue free inquiry
throughout—measured and impassable may those become,
who hold to a generous veracity. Far both from outrage
or servility—too proud to court and too strong to hate—are
those who learn to discard all arts but that of the austere
service of others, exacting no thanks and pausing at no
curse. Wise words of counsel to Theological controversialists
have been addressed in a powerful quarter of public opinion:
“ Religious controversy has already lost much of its bitterness.
Open abuse and exchange of foul names are exploded, and
even the indirect imputation of unworthy motives is falling
into disuse. Another step will be made when theologians
have learnt to extend their intellectual as well as their moral
sympathies, to feel that most truths are double edged, and not
to wage an unnecessary war against, opinion which, strange,
incongruous, and unlovely as they may at first appear, are
built, perhaps, on as firm a foundation, and are held with
equal sincerity and good faith, as their own.”f This is advice
which both sides should remember.
* Maxim (much unused) of the Roman Catholic Church,
t Times Leader of November 8, 1855.
�CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
35
IX.
“ No society can be in a healthy state in which eccentricity
is a matter of reproach.” Conventionality is the tyranny
of the average man, and a despicable tyranny it is. The
tyranny of genius is hard to be borne—that of mediocrity
is humiliating. That idea of freedom which consists in the
absence of all government is either mere lawlessness, or refers
to the distant period when each man having attained perfec
tion will be a law unto himself. Just rule is indispensable rule,
and none other. The fewer laws consistent with the public
preservation the better—there is, then, as Mr. Mill has shown
in his “Liberty,” the more room for that ever-recurring
originality which keeps intellect alive in the world. Towards
law kept within the limits of reason, obedience is the first of
virtues. “ Order and Progress,” says Comte, which we
should express thus:—Order, without which Progress is im
possible ; Progress, without which Order, is Tyranny. The
, world is clogged with men of dead principles. Principles
that cannot be acted upon are probably either obsolete or false.
One certain way to improvement is to exact consistency between
profession and practice; and the way to bring this about is to
teach that the highest merit consists in having earnest views
and in endeavouring to realize them—and this whether the
convictions be contained within or without accredited creeds.
There will be no progress except within the stereotyped limits of
creeds, unless means are found to justify independent convic
tions to the conscience. To the philosopher you have merely
to show that a thing is true, to the statesman, that it is useful,
but to a Christian, that it is safe. The grace of service lies in
its patience. To promote the welfare of others, irrespective
of their gratitude or claims, is to reach the nature of the
Gods. It is a higher sentiment than is ascribed to the Deity
of the Bible. The abiding disposition to serve others is the
end of all philosophy. The vow of principle is always one of
poverty and obedience, - and few are they who take it—and
fewer who keep it. If hate obscure for a period the path of
duty, let us remember nothing should shake our attachment
to that supreme thought, which at once stills human anger and
educates human endeavour—the perception that “ the suffer
ings and errors of mankind arise out of want of knowledge
rather than defect of goodness.”
fl
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CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
X.
A leading object of Secularism is the promotion of the
material purity of the present life—“ material purity,” which
includes personal as well as external condition. The question
of Spiritualism (without employing it and without disparaging
it) it regards as a distinct question, and hence the methods
by which Secularists attempt “improvement” will be “material”
as being the most reliable. The tacit or expressed aim of all
Freethinking, has ever been true thinking and pure thinking.
It has been a continued protest against the errors Theology
has introduced, and the vicious relations it has conserved and
sanctified. It is necessary to mark this, and it can be done by
insisting and keeping distinctly evident that the aim of Secular
ism is the purity of material influences. This precludes the
possibility of Secularism being charged either with conscious
grossness or intentional sin. Secularism concerns itself with
the work of to-day. “ It is always yesterday or to-morrow,
and never to-day,”* is a fair description of life according to
theologies. Secularism,' on the contrary, concerns itself with
the things of “ to-day.”
To know
That which before us lies in daily life
Is the prime wisdom.
The cardinal idea of the “ popular Theology ” is the neces
sity of Revelation. It believes that the light of Nature is
darkness, that Reason affords no guidance, that the Scriptures
are the true chart, the sole chart, and the sufficient chart of
man, and it regards all attempts to delineate a chart of
Nature as impious, as impracticable, and as a covert attack
upon the Biblical chart in possession of the churches. Know
ing no other guidance than that of the Bible, and disbelieving
the possibility of any other, theology denounces Doubt, which
inspires it with a sense of insecurity—it fears Inquiry, which
may invalidate its trust—and deprecates Criticism, which may
expose it, if deficient. Having nothing to gain, it is reluctant
to incur risk—having all to lose, it dreads to be disturbed—
having no strength but in Faith, it fears those who Reason—
and less from ill-will than from the tenderness of its position,
it persecutes in self-defence. Such are the restrictions and the
logic of Theology.
Story of Boots, by Dickens.
�CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
37
XI.
On the other hand, Rationalism (which is the logic of Nature )
is in attitude and spirit quite the reverse. It observes that
numbers are unconvinced of the fact of Revelation, and feel
the insufficiency, for their guidance, of that offered to them.
To them the pages of Nature seem clearer than those of the
Apostles. Reason, which existed before all Religions and
decides upon all—else the false can never be distinguished
from the true—seems self-dependent and capable of furnishing
personal direction. Hence Rationalism instructed by facts,
winning secrets by experiments, establishing principles by
reflection, is assured of a morality founded upon the laws of
Nature. Without the advantage of inductive science to assist
discoveries, or the printing press to record corroborations of
them, the Pre-Christian world created ethics, and Socrates
and Epictetus, and Zoroaster and Confucius, delivered precepts,
to which this age accords a high place. Modern Rationalists
therefore sought, with their new advantages, to augment and
systematize these conquests. They tested the claims of the
Church by the truths of Nature. That Freethought which
had won these truths applied them to creeJs, and criticism
became its weapon of Propagandism. Its consciousness of
new truth stimulated its aggression on old error. The preten
sions of reason being denied as false, and rationalists them
selves persecuted as dangerous, they had no alternative but
to criticise in order to vindicate their own principles, and
weaken the credit and power of their opponents. To attack
the misleading dogmas of Theology was to the early Free
thinkers well understood self-defence. In some hands and
under the provocations of vindictive bigotry, this work, no
doubt, became wholly antagonistic, but the main aspiration
of the majority was the determination of teaching the people
t( to be a law unto themselves.” They found prevailing a
religion of unreasoning faith. They sought to create a
religion of intelligent conviction, whose uniformity consisted
in sincerity. Its believers did not all hold the same tenets,
but they all sought the same truth and pursued it with the
same earnestness. It was this inspiration which sustained
Vanini, Hamont, Lewes, K.ett, Legate, and Wightman at the
stake, and which armed Servetus to prefer the fires of Calvin
to the. creed of Calvin, which supported Annet in the pillory,
and Woolston and Carlile in their imprisonments. It was no
«
.* /it
�38
CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
capricious taste for negations which dictated these deliberate
sacrifices, but a sentiment purer than interest and stronger
than self-love—it was the generous passion for unfriended truth.
XII.
The intellectual, no less than the heroic characteristics of
Freethought have presented features of obvious unity. Tindal,
Shaftesbury, Voltaire, Paine, and Bentham, all vindicated
principles of Natural Morality. Shelley struggled that a pure
and lofty ideal of life should prevail, and Byron had passionate
words of reverence for the human character of Christ.
*
The
distrust of Prayer for temporal help was accompanied by trust
in Science, and all saw in material effort an available deliver
ance from countless ills which the Church can merely deplore.
Those who held that a future life was “ unproven,” taught that
attention to this life was of primary importance, at least
highly serviceable to humanity, even if a future sphere be
certain. All strove for Free Inquiry—Rationalism owed its
existence to it; all required Free Speech—Rationalism was
diffused by it; all vindicated Free Criticism—Rationalism
established itself with it; all demanded to act out their
opinions—Rationalism was denuded of conscience without this
right. In all its mutations, and aberrations, and conquests,
Freethought has uniformly sought the truth, and shown the
courage to trust the truth. Freethought uses no persecution,
for it fears no opposition, for opposition is its opportunity. It
is the cause of Enterprise and Progress, of Reason and Duty
—and now seeking the definite and the practical, it selects for
its guidance the principle that “ human affairs should be regu* Thus we read, Canto xv. stanza xviii., of Don Juan
Was it not so, great Locke ? and greater Bacon ?
Great Socrates ? And thou Diviner still
Whose lot it is by man to be mistaken,
And thy pure creed made sanctions of all ill ?
Redeeming world to be by bigots shaken,
How was thy toil rewarded ?
To this stanza Lord Byron adds this note :—
“ As it is necessary in these times to avoid ambiguity, I say that I
mean by “ Diviner still ” Christ. If ever God was man—or man God—
he was both. I never arraigned his creed, but the use—or abuse—made
of it.”
t L. H. Holdreth.
�CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
39
lated by considerations purely human.”f These—the
characteristics which the term Secularism was designed
• to express—are therefore not inventions, not assump
tions, but the general agreements of the Freethought party,
inherent, traditional, and historic. That which is new, and of
the nature of a development, is the perception that the positiv
ism of Freethought principles should be extended, should be
clearly distinguished and made the subject of energetic
assertion—that the Freethought party which has so loudly
demanded toleration for itself, should be able to exercise it
towards all earnest thinkers, and especially towards all co
workers—that those who have protested against the isolation
of human effort by sectarian exclusiveness, should themselves
set the example of offering, in good faith, practical conditions
of unity, not for the glory of sects, or coteries, or schools, but
for the immediate service of humanity.
XIII.
The Relation of Secularism to the future demands a few
words. To seek after the purity and perfection of the Present
Life neither disproves another Life beyond this, nor disqualifies
man for it. “ Nor is Secularism opposed to the Future so far
as that Future belongs to the present world—to determine
which we have definite science susceptible of trial and verifi
cation. The conditions of a future life being unknown, and
there being no imaginable means of benefiting ourselves and
others in it except by aiming after present goodness, we shall
confessedly gain less towards the happiness of a future life by
speculation than by simply devoting ourselves to the energetic
improvement of this life.”* Men have a right to look beyond
this world, but not to overlook it. Men, if they can, may
connect themselves with eternity, but they cannot disconnect
themselves from humanity without sacrificing duty. Secular
knowledge relates to this life. Religious knowledge to
another life. Secular instruction teaches the duties to man.
Religious instruction the duties to God apart from man. Reli
gious knowledge relates to celestial creeds. Secular know
ledge relates to human duties to be performed. The religious
teacher instructs us how to please God by creeds. The Secu
lar teacher how to serve man by sympathy and science.
* F. W. Newman
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CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
Archbishop Whately tells the story of a lady at Bath, who,
being- afraid to cross a tottering bridge lest it should give way
under her, fortunately bethought herself of the expedient of «
calling for a sedan chair, and was carried over in that convey
ance. Some of our critics think that we shall resemble this
ingenious lady. But those who fear to trust themselves to the
ancient and tottering Biblical bridge, will hardly get into the
sedan chair of obsolete orthodoxy, and add the weight of that
to the danger. They prefer going round by the way of
reason and fearless private judgment.
XIV.
Secularism, we have said, concerns itself with four rights:—
1. The right to Think for one’s self, which most Christians
now admit, at least in theory.
2. The right to Differ, without which the right to think is
nothing worth.
3. The right to Assert difference of opinion, without which
the right to differ is of no practical use.
4. The right to Debate all vital opinion, without which
there is no intellectual equality—no defence against the errors
of the state or the pulpit.
It is of no use that the Protestant concedes the right to think
unless he concedes the right to differ. We may as well be
Catholic unless we are free to dissent. Rome will concede
our right to think for ourselves, provided we agree with the
Church when we have done; and when Protestantism affects
to award us the right of private judgment, and requires us to
agree with the thirty-nine Articles in the end—or when Evan
gelical Ministers tell us we are free to think for ourselves, but
must believe in the Bible nevertheless, both parties reason on the
Papist principle; both mock us with a show of freedom, and
impose the reality of mental slavery upon us. It is mere irony
to say “ Search the Scriptures,” when the meaning is—you
must accept the Scriptures whether they seem true or not.
Of the temper in which theological opinions ought to be
formed, we have the instruction of one as eminent as he was
capable. Jefferson remarks, “ In considering this subject,
divest yourself of all bias, shake off all fears and servile pre
judices, under which weak minds crouch: fix reason in her
�CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
41
seat firmly; question with boldness, even the existence of God ;
because, if there be one, he must approve the homage of
reason more than that of blindfolded fear. Read the Bible as
you would Tacitus or Livy. Those facts in the Bible which
contradict the laws of Nature must be examined with care.
The New Testament is the history of a person called Jesus.
Keep in your eye what is related. They say he was begotten
by God, but born of a virgin (how reconcile this ?) ; that he
was crucified to death, and buried ; that he rose and ascended
bodily into heaven: thus reversing the laws of Nature. Do
not be frightened from this inquiry by any fear, and if it ends
in a belief that the story is not true, or that there is not a God,
you will find other incitements to virtue and goodness. In
fine, lay aside all prejudices on both sides, neither believe nor
reject anything because others have rejected or disbelieved it.
Your reason is the only oracle given you by heaven, and you
are answerable, not for the rightness, but for the uprightness
of your opinion ; and never mind evangelists, or pseudo-evan
gelists, who pretend to inspiration.”* It is in vain the Chris
tian quotes the Pauline injunction, “Prove all things; hold
fast that which is good,” if we are to hold fast to his good,
which may be evil to us. For a man to prove all things need
ful, and hold fast to that which he considers good, is the true
maxim of freedom and progress. Secularism, therefore, proclaims and justifies the right to Differ, and the right to assert
conscientious difference on the platform, through the press, in
civil institutions, in Parliament, in courts of law, where it
demands that the affirmation of those who reject Christi
anity shall be as valid as the oath of those who accept it.
XV.
Yet some opponents have professed that Secular cannot be
distinguished from Christian rights. Is this so ? The right to
think for ourselves has been emphatically and reiteratedly
declared to be a Christian right ;f it “ belongs essentially to
Christianity.” Now Christianity has no such right. It has the
right to think the Bible true, and nothing else. The Christian
* “Jefferson : Memoirs.” Vol. II. Quoted by Sir G. Cockbum, in his
“ Confessions of Faith, by a Philosopher,” pages 4 and 5.
f “ Six Chapters on Secularism,” by Dr. Parker, Cavendish Pulpit,
Manchester.
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CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
has no right to think Christianity untrue, however untrue it
may appear. He dare not think it false. He dare no more
think it false than the Catholic dare differ from the dictum of
the Church, or the Mahomedan differ from the text of the
Koran, or the Hindoo differ from the precepts of the
■Brahmin. Therefore, the Christian’s right to think for himself
is simply a compulsion, to believe. A right implies relative
freedom of action; but the Christian has no freedom. He has no
choice but to believe, or perish everlastingly. The Christian
right to think for himself is, therefore, not the same as the
Secular right. We mean by the right to think, what the
term right always implies—freedom and independence, and
absence of all crime, or danger of penalty through the honest
exercise of thought and maintenance of honest conclusions,
whether in favour of or against Christianity. Our assertion is
that “Private judgment is free and guiltless.” The Christian
is good enough to say, we have “ a right to think, provided
we think rightly.” But what dofes he mean by “ rightly ?”
He means that we should think as he thinks. This is his
interpretation of “ rightly.” Whoever does not fall in with
his views, is generally, in his vocabulary, a dishonest perverter
of scripture. Now, if we really have the right to differ, we
have the right to differ from the Minister or from the Bible, if
we see good reason to do so, without being exposed to the
censure of our neighbours, or disapprobation of God. The
question is not—does man give us the right to think for our
selves ? but, does God give it to us ? If we must come to a
given opinion, our private judgment is unnecessary. Let us
know at once what we are to believe, that we may believe
it at once, and secure safety. If possible disbelief in Chris
tianity will lead to eternal perdition, the right of private
judgment is a snare. We had better be without that perilous
privilege, and we come to regard the Roman Catholic as
penetrative when he paints private judgment as the suggestion
of Satan, and the Roman Catholic no less merciful than con
sistent when he proscribes it altogether. We must feel
astonishment at him who declares the Secular right to be
essentially a Christian right, when it is quite a different
thing, is understood in an entirely different sense, and has
an application unknown and unadmitted by Christianity.
This is not merely loose thinking, it is reckless thinking.
�CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
43
XVI.
It has been asserted that the second right, “ the right to
differ,” is also a Christian right. “ Christianity recognizes the
claim to difference of opinion. Christians are not careful to
maintain uniformity at the expense of private judgment.”
This is omitting a part of the truth. Christians often permit
difference of opinion upon details, but not upon essentials, and
this is the suppression made. The Christian may differ on
points of church discipline, but if he differ upon the essential
articles of his creed, the minister at once warns him that he
is in “danger of the judgment.” Let any minister try it him
self, and his congregation will soon warn him to depart, and
also warn him of that higher Power, who will bid him depart
“ into outer darkness, where there will be wailing and gnashing
of teeth.” With respect to the third right, “ the right of asserting
difference of opinion,” this is declared to be not peculiar to
Secularism ; that “ Christian churches, chapels, literature and
services, are so many confirmations of the statement that
Christians claim the right of speaking wliat they think,
whether it be affirmative or negative.” Yes, so long as what
they speak agrees with the Bible. This is the Christian limit;
yet this is the limit which Secularism expressly passes and
discards. It is the unfettered right which makes Secularism
to differ from Christianity, and to excel it.
XVII.
The right of private judgment, always in set terms conceded
to us, means nothing, unless it leads to a new understanding
as to the terms in which we are to be addressed. In the
“ Bible and the People,” it is described as “ an insolence to
ignore Christianity.”* We do not understand this language.
It would be insolence to Deity to ignore a message which we
can recognize as coming from Him, but it may rather imply
reverence for God to reject the reports of many who speak in
His name. Were we to require Christians to read our books
or think as we think, they would resent the requirement as an
impertinence; and we have yet to learn that it is less an
impertinence when Christians make these demands of us. If
Christians are under no obligation to hold our opinions,
neither are we under obligation to hold theirs. By our own
* No. I. Vol. I., p. 8. Edited by the Rev. Brewin Grant.
�44
CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
act, or at their solicitation, we may study “ sacred ” writing’s,
but at dictation, never ! So long- as Secularists obey the laws
enacted for the common security, so long as they perform the
duties of good citizens, it is nothing to Christians what opinions
they hold. We neither seek their counsel nor desire their
sentiments—except they concede them on terms of equality.
The light by which we walk is sufficient for us; and as at
the last day, of which Christians speak, we shall there have,
according to their own showing, to answer for ourselves, we
prefer to think for ourselves; and since they do not propose
to take our responsibility, we decline to take their doctrines.
Where we are to be responsible, we will be free; and no man
shall dictate to us the opinions we shall hold. We shall
probably know as well as any Christian how to live with
freedom and to die without fear. It is in vain for Christians
to tell us that Newton and Locke differed from us. What is
that to us unless Newton and Locke will answer for us ? The
world may differ from a man, but what is the world to him,
unless it will take his place at the judgment-day ? Who is
Paul or Apollos, or Matthew or Mark, that we should venture
our eternal salvation on his word, any more than on that of a
Mahomedan prophet, or a Buddhist priest ? Where the dan
ger is our own, the faith shall be pur own. Secularism is not
an act conceived in the spirit of pride, or vanity, or self-will,
or eccentricity, or singularity, or stiff-neckedness. It is simply
well-understood self-defence. If men have the right of
private judgment, that right has set them free; and we own
no law but reason, no limits but the truth, and have no fear
but that of guilt. We may say we believe in honour, which
is respecting the truth—in morality, which is acting the truth
—in love, which is serving the truth—and in independence,
which is defending the truth.
XVIII.
Confucius declared that the foundation of all religion wa’s
reverence and obedience.
*
The Religious sentiment is the
intentional reverence of God. The Christian is ever persuaded
that there is only one way of doing this, and he arrogantly
assumes that he has that way. Whereas the ways are as
* Sir John Bowring.
�CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
45
diverse as human genius. Let those who deny that Secular
Truth meets' the emotional part of their nature, settle what is
the nature of the emotions they desiderate. The miser wants
money—the sensualist wants the cook—the scholar wants
knowledge—and the mother desires the life, growth, and
happiness of her child. But what can man want in a rational
sense which Nature and humanity may not supply ? Do we not
meet the demand of the many when we show that Secularism
is sufficient for progress; that it is moral, and therefore suffi
cient for trust; that it builds only upon the known, and is
therefore reliable ? It is the highest and most unpresumptuous
form of unconscious worship. It is practical reverence without
the arrogance of theoretical homage. We at least feel con
fident of this, that the future, if it come, will not be miserable.
, There may be a future—this remains to awaken interest and
perennial curiosity. If Nature be conscious, it will still design
the happiness of man, which it now permits—this assurance
remains, stilling fear and teaching trust.
XIX.
In surveying the position of Christianism in Great Britain,
there is found to exist a large outlying class, daily increasing,
who for conscientious reasons reject its cardinal tenets. Hence
arises the question :—Are good citizenship and virtuous life on
Secular principles, possible to these persons ? Secularism
answers, Yes. To these, excluded by the letter of scripture,
by the narrowness of churches, by the intrinsic error and
moral repulsiveness of doctrine, Secularism addresses itself;
to these it is the word of Recognition, of Concert and Morality.
It points them to an educated conscience as a security of
morals, to the study of Nature as a source of help, and seeks
to win the indifferent by appeals to the inherent goodness of
human Nature and the authority of reason, which Christianism
cannot use and dare not trust. If, however, the Secularist
elects to walk by the light of Nature, will he be able to see ?
Is the light of Nature a fitful lamp, or a brief torch, which
accident may upset, or a gust extinguish ? On the contrary,
the light of Nature may burn steady, clear, and full, over the
entire field of human life. On this point we have the testi
mony of an adversary, who was understood to address us,
a testimony as remarkable for its quality as for its felicity of
*
expression:—“ There is the ethical mind, calm, level, and clear;
�46
CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
chiefly'intent on the good ordering of this life; judging all things
by their tendency to this end, and impatient of every oscillation
of our nature that swings beyond it. There is nothing low or
unworthy in the attachment which keeps this spirit close to
the present world, and watchful for its affairs. It is not a
selfish feeling, but often one intensely social and humane, not
any mean fascination with mere material interests, but a
devotion to justice and right, and an assertion of the sacred
authority of human duties and affections. A man thus tempered
deals chiefly with this visible life and his comrades in it,
because, as nearest to him, they are better known. He plants
his standard on the present, as on a vantage ground, where
he can survey his field, and manoeuvre all his force, and com
pute the battle he is to fight. Whatever his bearings fervours
towards beyond his range, he has no insensibility to the claims
that fall within his acknowledged province, and that appeal to
him in the native speech of his humanity. He so reverences
veracity, honour, and good faith, as to expect them like the
daylight, and hears of their violation with a flush of scorn.
His word is a rock, and he expects that yours will not be a
quicksand. If you are lax, you cannot hope for his trust; but
if you are in trouble, you easily move his pity. And the sight
of a real oppression, though the sufferer be no ornamental
hero, but black, unsightly, and disreputable, suffices perhaps
to set him to work for life, that he may expunge the disgrace
from the records, of mankind. Such men as he constitute for
our world its moral centre of gravity; and whoever would
compute the path of improvement that has brought it thus far
on its way, or trace its sweep into a brighter future, must take
account of their steady mass. The effect of this style of thought
and taste on the religion of its possessor, is not difficult to
trace. It may, no doubt, stop short of avowed and conscious
religion altogether; its basis being simply moral, and its scene
temporal, its conditions may be imagined as complete, without
any acknowledgment of higher relations.”*
XX.
Nature is, That which is, is the primary subject of study.
The study of Nature reveals the laws of Nature. The laws of
* Professor Martineau, in Octagon Chapel, Norwich, 1856.
�CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
47
Nature furnish safe guidance to humanity. Safe guidance is
to help available in daily life—to happiness, self-contained—
to service, which krjows how “to labour and to wait.” For
authority, Nature refers us to Experience and to Reason. For
help, to Science, the nearest available help of man. Science
implies disciplined powers on the part of the people, and con
cert in their use, to realize the security and sufficiency neces
sary to happiness. Happiness depends on moral, no less
than on physical conditions. The moral condition is the full
and fearless discharge of Duty. Duty is devotion to the
Right. Right is that which is morally expedient. That is
morally expedient which is conducive to the happiness of the
greatest numbers. The service of others is the practical form
of -duty; and endurance in the service of others, the highest,
form of happiness. It is pleasure, peace, security, and desert.
XXL
We believe there is sufficient soundness in Secular principles
to make way in the world. All that is wanted is that advocates
of them shall have clear notions of the value of method in their
work. To the novice in advocacy policy seems a crime—at
least, many so describe it. Unable himself to see his way, the
tyro fights at everything and everybody equally; and too
vain to own his failure, he declares that the right way. Not
knowing that progress is an art, and an art requiring the
union of many qualities, he denies all art, cries down policy,
and erects blundering into a virtue. Compare the way which
Havelock reached Lucknow, and the way in which Sir Colin
Campbell performed the same feat, and you see the difference
between courage without, and courage with' strategy. It
was because magnitudes existed, which were inaccessible
and incapable of direct measurement, that mathematics arose.
Finding direct measurement so often impossible, men were
compelled to find means of ascertaining magnitude and distance
indirectly. Hence mathematics became a scientific policy.
Mathematics is but policy of measurement—grammar but the
policy of speech—logic but the policy of reason—arithmetic
but the policy of calculation—temperance’ but the policy of
health-—trigonometry but the policy of navigation—roads but
the policy of transit—music but the policy of controlling
sound—art but the policy of beauty—law but the policy of
protection—discipline but the policy of strength—love but the
�48
CHARACTERISTICS OF SECULARISM.
policy of affection. An enemy may object to our having- a
policy, because it suits his purpose that we should be without
one; but that a friend should object to our having- a policy
is one of those incredible infatuations which converts partisans
into unconscious traitors. The policy adopted may be a bad
policy, and no policy at all is idiotcy. If a policy be bad,
criticise and amend it; but to denounce all policy is to com
mit your cause to the providence of Bedlam. If, therefore,
throughout all intelligent control of Nature and humanity,
policy is the one supreme mark of wisdom, why should it
be dishonourable to study the policy of opinion ? He who con
sistently objects to policy, would build railway engines without
safety valves, and dismiss them from stations without drivers;
he would abolish turnpike roads and streets, and leave us
to find our way at random; he would recommend that
vessels be made without helms, and sail without captains,
that armies fight without discipline, and artillery-men should
fire before loading, and when pointing their guns, should aim
at nothing. In fine, a man without policy, honestly and intelli
gently opposed to policy, would build his house with the roof
downwards, and plant his trees with their roots in the air; he
would kick his friend and hug his enemy; he would pay wages
to servants who would not work, govern without rule, speak
without thought, think without reason, act without purpose, be
a knave by accident, and a fool by design.
�INDEX.
PAGE.
Action, Secular and Theological
Affirmative Policy......................
Association, its Maxims..............
Atheists, angry origin of the term
Atheistic maxim of Loyola .......
33
33
16
9
30
PAGE.
Future, the, separated but not
prejudged ............... 39
Guides of the Secularist ........... 11
Guild, Secular.............................. 18
„ its uses in Foreign countries 20
Bond of Union .......................... 17
Heresy no sin, Blanco White,
Branch of the Secular Guild,
upon..................................
defined........................... 24
Byron Lord, his passionate
Imputation of motives ...............
Christianism ............... 3g Inferior natures, religious duty
towards them...............
Characteristics of Secularism ... 27
Christian rights.......................... 42 Infidel, an imputative term .......
„
distinguished
from Secular rights
Comte on prevision ,.................
Controversy, new tone of...........
Conscience higher than con
sequence..................
Controversy, sphere of ...............
„
personal..................
Construction of conduct...............
Conventionality..........................
Degrees of progress ..................
Distinction between Secular
Instruction and Secularism
Emotional nature, its variety ...
Ethical life, Professor Martineau’s
view..........................
Features of the Future ...............
Fleet Street Secular Institute ...
Freethinking, true-thinking .......
32
34
13
9
Jefferson, on boldness of inquiry 41
43 Justification of Controversy....... 15
29
8 Knowledge, a remunerative
investment............... 29
12 Laws of Secular Controversy ... 14
15 Legitimate topics of Secular
15
Societies .................. 34
34 Limits of Imputation................... 21
9
35 Loose-thinking .......
12
Maxims of association ............... 16
Martineau Harriet, on the term
5
Secularism ............... 8
45 Membership, diversities of ........ 23
Method, material and spiritual... 36
46 Mill, J. S. on originality ............ 35
45 Morality, its independence of
theology ........................ 28
18
36 Neckar’s maxim............................ 29
�50
INDEX.
PAGE.
Newman, Dr. J. IT. on organiz
ation.............................. 5
Objects of Secular Guild ...........
Open questions ..........................
Organization of ideas.................
„
indicated...............
Outlying classes..........................
19
33
18
21
45
Persistence in Opinion ............... 2
Personal duty.............................. 16
Place of Secularism ................... 25
Positivism, its subjects of study 29
Policy, its Secular necessity... 47-48
Private judgment absolute ... 43-44
Principles of Secularism defined 11
Public duty.................................. 16
Qualities of new members........... 21
„
of active members....... 23
Rationalism, its securities...........
Reason, its self-dependence .......
Religiousness, its moral meaning
Revelation, its absolute chart ...
Rights of Reason .....................
Ruskin, on the morality of
realism..........................
37
37
12
36
14
30
Science, its social problem ....... 12
Secularism, its relative influence 25
„
persons whom it
addresses.................. 25
„
compared with Chris
tianity ...................... 26
„
the sum of Freethought agreements 38
Secularity, its line of demarcation 27
Sincerity defined..... v.............. ... 12
„
distinguished from in
fallibility .................. 30
Sincerity distinguished from sin 31
Spiritualism, the sensualism of
the soul .................. 30
Standard of appeal...................... 14
Summary of Secularism.............. 47
Term Secularism, not a disguise 9
Trustworthiness of Candidates..- 22
Utilitarian action ...................... 33
Various terms of Freethought ... 10
Vow of principle, its nature..... 35
Written speeches ...................... 24
�THE
REASONER
(ESTABLISHED 1846.)
Advocates the Free Search., Free Utterance, Free Criticism, the
Free Action of Secular Principles.
REVIEW
SERIES.
[The following extracts are given as the only independent means of indicating to
strangers and Christian readers (who commonly have prepossessions that the advocacy
of Freethought must be outrage and sin) the spirit in which it has been the endeavour
of the Editor to conduct the heasoner—the title of which does not assume perfection in
reasoning, but is merely a sign that principles and criticisms will, by preference, be
urged upon grounds of reason. For as Professor Martineau observes, “ In every en
deavour to elevate ourselves above reason, we are seeking to rise beyond the atmosphere,
with wings which cannot soar but by beating the air.” Of the remarks which follow,
the chief, it will be seen, must apply to contributors.]
“The Reasoner . . . edited by G. J. Holyoake, is written with considerable
ability, and conducted with no small amount of tact. It addresses itself to that large
and constantly increasing class in English society—the class of artizans; men who de
mand to be dealt with logically. The Reasoner is calm, affectedly dispassionate, im
personal ; piques itself upon being scrupulously exact in its statement of facts, rigorous
in its inductions, and charitable and tolerant in its judgment. This air, which seems
partly real, is eminently calculated to prepossess its readers with the idea of its strength
and' firmness. Its conductors are by no means common-place men. There is evidently
a great deal of ability in them. Such men may not be dispised, nor their doings over
looked. The writers of the other works which we have classed with this have no object
beyond the miserable pittance which their labour brings them. These men have a
creed. They apparently have principles, too, at stake.”—Daily News, Nov. 2, 1848.
“The adoption of the term Secularism is justified by its including a large number
of persons who are not Atheists, and uniting them for action which has Secularism for
its object, and not Atheism. On this ground, and because, by the adoption of a new
term, a vast amount of impediment from prejudice is got rid of, the use of the name
Secularism is found advantageous; but it in no way interferes with Mr. Holyoake’s
profession of his own unaltered views on the subject of a First Cause. As I am writing
this letter, I may just say, for myself, that I constantly and eagerly read Mr.
Holyoake’s writings, though many of them are on subjects—or occupied with stages of
subjects—that would not otherwise detain me, because I find myself morally the better
for the influence of the noble spirit of the man; for the calm courage, the composed
temper, the genuine liberality, and unremitting justice with which he treats all manner
of persons, incidents, and topics. I certainly consider the conspicious example of Mr.
Holyoake’s kind of heroism to be one of our popular educational advantages at this
time.”— Harriet Martineau. Letter. to Uoyd Garrison, editor of the Liberator,
Boston, U.S., Nov. 1, 1853.
“ You inform me that the Reasoner is to be enlarged into a political magazine, and
you ask my permission to insert in it, as Political Fragments,various articles which have
already appeared from my pen in provincial newspapers or elsewhere. In giving you
full permission to make your own selection, and authorising you to tell the public that
you have that permission, I think it due to you to put on record why I most cordialy
accede to your request. It is because I think you so remarkably unite the two qualities
—uncompromising hostility to false or unjust systems, and a tender and just allowance
for the men who carry on those systems—that I rejoice in your becoming a political
spokesman for English operatives, who are too often carried away by violent invective
against persons—invective which always fails to effect reform. I know you to be a
reasonable man as well as a “ reasoner,” and though I do not entirely go along with
jtour politics any more than with your anti-theology, yet I have a deep belief in your
moral soundness; and the want of this is, after all, our greatest national weakness.—
Professor Newman, March 8, 1855. Reasoner, No. 459.
�“1. I do not know any other man who so consistently vindicates the right of every
opinion to its own free utterance. 2. I do not know any other man who is so un
swervingly firm in paying a candid, courteous, and painstaking attention to the state
ment of opinions opposed to his own.”—Thornton Leigh Hunt, Aug. 23, 1858.
“ You are welcome to any writing or fragment of mine, which you may wish to re
print for the Reasoner. Thought, according to me, is, as soon as publicly uttered, the
property of all, not an individual one. In this special case, it is with true pleasure
that I give the the consentment you ask for. The deep esteem I entertain for your
personal character, for your sincere love of truth, perseverance, and nobly tolerant
habits, makes me wish to do more; and time and events allowing, I shall. But,
whilst gladly granting your kind request, I feel bound in my turn to address one to you,
and it is to grant me the selection of the two first fragments. They will shield my own
individuality against all possible misinterpretations, and state at once the limits within
which we commune; these limits are political and moral, not philosophical. We pur
sue the same; progressive improvement, association, transformation of the corrupted
medium in which we are now living, overthrow of all idolatries, shams, lies and conventialities. We both want man to be, not the poor, passive, cowardly, phantasma
goric unreality of the actual time, thinking in one way and acting in another; bending
to power which he hates and despises; carrying empty popish, or thirty-nine article
formulas on his brow and none within ; but a fragment of the living truth, a real in
dividual being linked to collective humanity, the bold seeker of things to.come; the
gentle, mild, loving, yet firm, uncompromising, inexorable apostle of all that is just
and heroic, the Priest, the Poet, and the Prophet. We widely differ as to the how
and why.”—Joseph Mazzini, June 8, 1855. Reasoner, No. 472.
“ Here we have before us a weekly publication, written with an ability superior to
that displayed by the majority of English provincial journals, which has been regularly
issued for the last nine years, and yet the name of which is now for the first time men
tioned to the Indian reader. It is an unstamped journal, containing nothing that can
legally be taken as news, but enforcing with all the regularity and power of a wellconducted newspaper, a certain defined set of opinions. These opinions are, in regard
to politics, democratic to the extent of being socialistic; and in regard to religion (for
religion is discussed in the columns of this journal) rationalistic to the extent of being
atheistic. The conductors of this journal openly avow their objects to be—1. To test
religion by reason, to which in these days the most advanced churches appeal. 2. To
found public action on secular principles—which, being based on experience, all men
are enabled to judge them; and being unsectarian, all liberal men can unite about
them. 3. To train the working class to take part in public affairs, English and foreign;
developing the ability of self-government, personal, local, and national; cultivating
sentiments of inflexible truth, justice, and good-will; because a people in such respects
self-consistent may, by vigilantly contrasting the conduct of their rulers with the pre
cepts they deliver to the people, force them into integrity, or shame them into privacy.’ ’
— Hindoo Patriot, June 28, 1855.
“ I am not fond of substituting authorities for arguments, and there is only one other
witness I will call. There are many members of this house, and many more of the
working classes, who are familiar with the name of Mr. Holyoake. He is chiefly known
in connection with philosophical speculations of an unpopular character, and also as
warmly and earnestly sympathising with the cause of democratic institutions in Europe.
No one is a more fitting representative in that respect of the feelings of that section of
the working class which interests itself most strongly in politics. Mr. Holyoake may
fairly be taken to represent the feelings of persons of extreme political opinions, and it
is with his political opinions alone with which I have to do.”—Speech of Lord Stanley,
House of Commons, Miarch 21, 1859. Vide The Times, March 22.
“ Who can tell us anything about the working man ? Are they the mere dupes of
interested leaders, as men of Mr. Bright’s order invariably assure us <vhen they have
to contend with strikes and labour leagues? Are they anxious for nothing but
relief from taxation? Are they brimful of undeveloped energies, as Mr. Kingsley
seems to think; or running over with potential religious unction, as our High Church
lady novelists insinuate in multitudinous single volumes; Do they believe in Mr. Ernest
Jones as they believed in Mr. Feargus O’Conner ? Do they listen to such instructors as
Mr. Holyoake, as Lord Stanley hinted to the House of Commons, not without some
facts to back him ?—The Saturday Review, March 26, 1859.
�
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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The principles of secularism illustrated
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Edition: 3rd rev. ed.
Place of publication: London
Collation: 50 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: Contains bibliographical references and index. Illustrations at the head of chapter headings. Extracts of reviews of The Reasoner, from various sources, on unnumbered pages at the end.
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Holyoake, George Jacob
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Austin & Co.
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1870
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Secularism
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Secularism
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THE
SOCIAL QUESTION.
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A SPEECH DELIVERED BY
Deputy
JOHANN JACOBY,
TO HIS CONSTITUENTS OF THE SECOND ARRONDISSEMENT
OF BERLIN, ON THE 20th JANUARY, 1870
■“ Men shall not be masters and servants, for all are born to liberty.”
Abraham Lincoln.
PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION.
1870.
��OmL QUES TIO N.
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Dear Fellow Citizens and Friends,
The mandate you have confided to me expires with the close of
the present session of Parliament. I am happy that this meeting
of my constituents gives me an opportunity of thanking you
once more for the confidence you have so faithfully and truthfully
continued to place in me at a time when political convictions are
vacillating in the extreme.
The last time I addressed you from this tribune, I essayed to
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been realised, without the aid of the gods, in the most natural
manner in the world, namely, by insight into the laws and by em
ployment of the forces of nature; that which appeared formerly
impossible to the wisest of the Greeks, is realised daily under
our eyes. But how has this miracle come about ? How has this
happy result been brought to pass, which Aristotle anticipated, of
such a state of things ?
Experience teaches us that by the grand mechanical discoveries
which have been made in our time, national riches have imEneasurably increased, but that the unfortunate and painful lot
of the laborious classes has been at best but ameliorated.
’
�ERRATA.
Page 1, last line, for “ laborious,” read labouring.
Page 5, line 14 from bottom, for “ restoring,” read restricting.
Page 7, line 20 from top, after “ credit,” put a comma.
Page 7, line 3 from bottom, for “ gem,” read germ,.
Page 8, line 22 from bottom, for “ only,” read on.
Page 10, line 14 from top, for “ these,” read other.
Page 12, line 10 from top, after “ does,” put ratf.
Page 12, line 2 from top, for “verum,” read rerum. Same page
line 2 from bottom, for K law ” read labour.
Page 16, line 13 from bottom, after the word “ majority,” insert
—of mankind as wage-labourers.
�TH E
S 0 C I A L QUESTION.
Dear Fellow Citizens and Friends,
The mandate you have confided to me expires with the close of
the present session of Parliament. I am happy that this meeting
of my constituents gives me an opportunity of thanking you
once more for the confidence you have so faithfully and truthfully
continued to place in me at a time when political convictions are
vacillating in the extreme.
The last time I addressed you from this tribune, I essayed to
explain to you the end which the radical German party had in
view, and above all, its position with regard to the working men’s
agitation; permit me to-day to take as the subject of my deli
beration, this working men’s movement itself, or, as it is
ordinarily termed, the social question. The political and social
conditions of a country being intimately allied, every elector has
a right to demand a declaration of social as well as political faith
from his deputy. I shall endeavour to answer this question with
entire frankness. Aristotle, one of the greatest thinkers of
humanity, divides mankind into two classes—free men and men
born for slavery. He pretends that the Greeks, thanks to their
independent character, were called to dominate over other nations,
whilst the barbarian races were destined either to be governed or
for slavery. He sees a social necessity in this institution—he
considers it as an essential and indispensable basis of the State
and of society; for supposing that free citizens should find them
selves under the necessity of providing by their labour for the
needs of life, whence could arise the desire to form their intellect,
and the leisure to occupy themselves with affairs of State ? And
yet, gentlemen, we find in Aristotle a remarkable passage con
cerning the possibility of a state of society without slavery. If
there were animated instruments (automatons) he says, capable
of rendering us those services now performed by slaves; if each
of these instruments, comprehending or even acting in advance
of the wish of man, could execute the labour confided to him
after the manner of the Statutes of Daedalus and the tables of
Hephaestus, which, according to Homer, entered of their own
accord into the chambers of the gods; if the shuttles could
weave alone, and guitars could perform melodies without musi
cians, then weavers would have no need of workmen, nor masters
of slaves.
But you all know that this wonder has in great part already
been realised, without the aid of the gods, in the most natural
manner in the world, namely, by insight into the laws and by em
ployment of the forces of nature; that which appeared formerly
impossible to the wisest of the Greeks, is realised daily under
our eyes. But how has this miracle come about ? How has this
Bappy result been brought to pass, which Aristotle anticipated, of
such a state of things ?
Experience teaches us that by the grand mechanical discoveries
which have been made in our time, national riches have immeasurably increased, but that the unfortunate and painful lot
of the laborious classes has been at best but ameliorated.
�4
Permit me now, in conformity with, enlarged experience, fur
ther to develop the dream of Aristotle. Let us suppose that in
some distant future of the human race, the entire soil of the
globe shall have passed into a state of private property, and that
man, by the progress of science, shall have acquired the mastery
of nature, that the inventions of mechanism shall have attained
such a state of perfection, that machines shall be constructed,
and shall practise by means of other machines, so that all phy
sical labour shall have become superfluous, . or that at least its
necessity shall have been reduced to a minimum. What would
be the result of such a state of things ?.
It will then naturally happen that in virtue of the force of
attraction, which the greater capital exercises upon the lesser,, a
relatively small number of rich persons will find themselves in
the possession of all the machines and all the means of labour;
it is to this small number alone to whom the common revenues of
the country will accrue, as well as all the wealth which is neces
sary for the wants and the pleasures of life, and that from a
point of view now admitted as just.
But what would happen under such circumstances—and granted
the complete depreciation of labour—what would become of the
disinherited mass of the working proletariat, if the charity of
the possessors of capital did not come to their rescue ?
What other resource would remain open to these unfortunate
people, but the alternative of dying of hunger, or modifying
in their own favour the existing relationships of society and
of property, either by force or by fraud ?
It will be said that this is a vain phantom, proposed to frighten
us, and that a similar state of society will never be realised,
either in the present or in the future. I admit this—not how
ever, because the thing in itself is impossible—but because it is
impossible that intelligent men will allow matters to reach such
a point. But can we hide from ourselves the fact that existing
social life, based as it is upon the domination of capital, and upon
the system of wages, tends to such a direction, that unless
obstructed, it would lead us nearer every day towards a state like
that we have just described ? Must we not acknowledge, that
even at the present time, the distribution of the common revenues
of the country is made in such a manner that, at least, a part
of the working proletariat is exposed to the distress we have
depicted.
In such a condition of things, it is the incumbent duty of every
honest and thoughtful man, to put to himself the following
question:—
How can we modify the present relations of society and
property, so as to realise a more equitable distribution of the
common revenue, and to obviate the distress of the working
classes, which daily assumes more extended proportions ?
In examining more closely the problem, the solution of which
we seek, there are two principal features which characterise the
economic relationships of the existing order of society, and which
�5
distinguish it from those of the past—the system of wages and great
^collective industry.
In the past, the social labours were executed in a great measure
by slaves or serfs; since the great French Revolution, there have
no longer existed seignorial rights of man over man.
By right, that is to say legally, every workman is free and dis
poses of himself, but in the fact, he is anything but independent.
Deprived of the necessary means and conditions of labour, with
out any other property but the faculty of labour, he sees himself
[under the necessity of working in the service of another foi'
|c wages,” and for wages which scarcely suffice for the bare
maintenance of life. If he finds no demand for the sole mer
chandise he has to dispose of, that is to say, for his labour, he
falls with those depending on him into extreme misery. Not
withstanding this painful and precarious situation, a labourer
■could with difficulty be found, who would return to the ancient
social state; what he wants is an existence worthy of a man, and
he knows that it is in liberty alone that he can attain it.
As the French Revolution declared the labourer free as regards
his person, it also delivered property from the fetters of the
middle ages; without regard to primitive obligations and destina
tions, it gave him who was then in possession the absolute right
to dispose of his property.
This liberation of property, the employment of steam which
soon followed, and the general introduction of machinery into
workshops, introduced great and weighty changes into economic
End social relations. Trades and small commerce were more or
less driven into the background: commerce upon a large scale,
End great industry, that is to say, production by capital, took
their place. Nevertheless, painful as became the situation of the
poorer workman and of the small dealer by this change, the
Advantages of great collective industry are too important with
regard to the development of civilisation for society ever to forego
them. A return to small commerce and to small trade is for the
future as impossible as a return to statute labour.
In consequence, we must confine our question to the following
■Propositions:—
How can we, without restoring the liberty of labour, and
without prejudicing the progress obtained by industry (on a large
scale), realise a more equitable distribution of the common
revenue, and one more suited to the interest of all ?
The answer for us at least cannot be a doubtful one; there is
■but one means which can lead us to this end : The abolition of the
wage-system and the substitution in its place of co-operative labour.
Whoever can read the signs of the times, will not deny that
this is the thought, which more or less consciously is at the
bottom of all working men’s movements in every country of
Europe. Just as slavery and serfdom, which were also formerly
held to be necessary social institutions, have everywhere given
way to the wage-system, so impends to-day a revolution of the
same kind, and not less important; namely, the transition of the
�wage-system to labour, and labour free and equal in the right of
association. It is needful so to act, that this revolution be effected
in the most peaceful manner, which cannot happen except by
the unanimous concurrence of all the social forces interested in it.
The question which now occupies us should therefore be thus
stated:—
What must (1st) the workman, (2nd) the manufacturer—the
possessor of capital, (3rd) the State do, to advance the transition
already commenced towards production by association, and to
conduct it to a good issue in the interests of the community ?
We see that, to answer this question, we have nothing to do but
review the facts which are occurring before us, a certain proof
that we find ourselves at present in the midst of a social change.
(1.) With regard to the workman himself, it is needful, above
all, that he should have a clear idea of his position, and that
he should learn to know and to respect the noblei’ side of human
nature that is within him.
We have already said that, in general, the wages of the labourer
suffice only for the miserable support of himself and of his
family. If any one doubts this pitiful condition of wages, we
would refer him to the testimony rendered some time back by a
Commission of the Customs to Parliament, in a report upon the
estimate of the wages of workmen; it is written in striking terms.
“ We cannot allow the assertion that there is a sensible differ
ence between the wages of the workman and the means necessary
for his bare maintenance to pass unnoticed. The amount of
wages is precisely the point around which the whole of the social
question practically moves. Workmen affirm the insufficiency of
wages, the employers do not contest this in principle, but they
declare the amount of wages to be a fixed link in the chain of
economic phenomena, and that under the control of the market
in which they find themselves, they cannot arbitrarily change it
without breaking the whole chain. As long as this contest is not
decided, and we fear that it may be eternal (sic), we must rest
ourselves as being the sole point of any real solid foundation
upon the opinion that the two terms, ‘wages’ and ‘means of
indispensable existence,’ generally compensate each other.” “ The
indestructible chain of economic phenomena!” Really one could
scarcely find a more striking expression ! Doubtless, the lords of
capital and the dispensers of labour will not be impeded in the
accumulation of capital upon capital; but very heavily does this
“ chain of economic phenomena ” weigh upon the working classes.
And yet here again the saying of the poet confirms itself—
“ There dwells a spirit of good even in that which is evil! ”
The dominant industrial system whilst necessitating the
assemblage of large masses of labourers in the same locality,
furnishes at the same time the first step for doing away with the
evil it engenders. As man learns from a glass the knowledge of
the features of his own face, so the salaried workman attains to a
complete acquaintance of his situation only by perceiving his own
�7
•condition reflected m the common misery of his companions in
suffering. In common with his equally ill-favoured and equally
oppressed companions, by constant intercourse and exchange of
ideas with his equals, by the mutual co-operation of reciprocal
assistance and of defence against the common danger, there is
developed by degrees among the workmen a bond of brotherhood,
which supports individuals, educates them, and urges the whole
body to struggle for their social rights. It is a singular occur
rence that it should be production by capital that itself assembles
and disciplines the forces destined to put an end to the domination
of capital and of the classes which represent it.
It is from these great industrial agglomerations that the work
ing men’s movement has arisen, which for this last ten years has
spread itself from England to France, to Belgium, to Germany,
to Switzerland, and has acquired by the foundation of the International Association a precise form and a positive power. On all
sides we find societies taking root, whose object is the amelioration
-of the material condition of the working classes; societies of
bartizans and of labourers, associations for instruction, for assist
ance, for consumption, for advances, and for credit unions for
manufacture and production. It is to be foreseen, that under the
pressure of prevailing financial and economical relationships,
all these institutions proceeding from the workman alone, and
founded upon the principle of “ self-help,” will prove insufficient
in the face of the common wants. But their services will have
been considerable in aiding the intellectual and moral development of the working class and in starting a serious reform in the
condition of labour. The true meaning of the inappreciable value
of these associations consists in that, irrespectively of their spe
cific end, they form a school for the members of the Association,
and render them capable of managing their own affairs as well as
of co-operating efficaciously with others. By education, by pro
gress in the knowledge of affairs, and by the development of a
friendly lien among the workmen, they prepare them insensibly
to pass from the wage-system now in vigour to the system of
production by association, which is that of the future.
It was the spirit of association which elevated the laborious
citizen class, in the middle ages, to such a high degree of civiliza
tion, of well being, of power, and of importance. The awakening
of this spirit of association, will lead us in our own days to
■results, similar, yet more fruitful, not for a single state, but
for the entire human society.
The labour question, as we understand it, is not a question of
mere bread and money ; it is a question of justice, of civilization,
and of humanity. Our pretended saviours of the State and
Society, “ the glorious conquests of politics by blood and iron,”
will long, like a superannuated legend, have fallen into the profoundest oblivion, when it will be accorded as a merit to our time
to have awakened and fostered the spirit of association, the gem
■of human virtue and greatness. By this means, our epoch will
have laid the foundations of a new social life founded upon the
�8
principles of equality and fraternity. The creation of the mosh
insignificant working man’s association, will be to the future his
torian of civilization of more importance than the sanguinary
day of Sadowa 1
Let us proceed now to the second question.
(2.) What ought the manufacturer, the enterprising possessor!
of capital, to do ?
All we ask of him is simply to consider in each workman, “ the
man; ” we ask of him to recognise, and to treat the hired man
he employs as a being who has exactly the same rights as him
self—in one word, as his equal.
Every medal, it is said, has two sides; in this saying there is a
good deal of populai' good sense; the most difficult problems of
science and of life find therein a satisfactory solution. Just as
the medal, man also has two sides: the one peculiar to
him as an individual; the other general, stamping him as
a member of a great community. In fact, these two sides are
inseparable and without a defined limit, for it is but in their
entirety, and in their unity that they constitute man; but it is
nevertheless possible that one of these two sides, temporarily or
lastingly, may manifest itself in excess, and thus exercise a decisive
influence upon our thoughts and upon our actions.
Let us suppose, for example, that it is the more particular or
individual side, which allows itself to be felt and becomes pre
ponderate in the conscience of a man. First of all, there will
result a more exaggerated appreciation of personality, a deeper
sentiment of his personal value and a greater confidence in self.
“Aid yourself! man is his own architect.” This is one man’s
motto, the rule of his thought and his actions. If he preserves at
the same time his sentiment on the other side, that is only the
general side of his existence, if he does not lose sight of the
entirety, which binds him to his equals, he will say, that his own
isolated forces will not suffice to procure for himself a life worthy
of a man; that man can only live and prosper in the society of
his fellow creatures, and that a fraternal co-operation with others
is his interest if well understood.
Reverence for others, the sentiment of community and the
spirit of fraternity, will constitute the necessary counterpoise to
his egotism and self-confidence. But the case is quite different
when this personal egotism develops itself to excess. Even
then he will doubtless not overlook the insufficiency of his
isolated individual power, for the consciousness of the general
and universal side can never be completely stifled, but it is th J
consequences which he therefrom deduces, which are quite
different; he will consider other men not as beings who are his
equals, not as members of a great whole to which he himself
belongs, and in which they have all equal rights with himself, butas members subordinated to his individual self, as simple instru
ments, destined to the satisfaction of his own wants and desires.
It is thus that the personal feeling, so laudable in itself, degene
rates into egotism—confidence in self into arrogance. Cupidity*
�9
pride, ambition, will decide him to make of his neighbour a
servant of his will, and of that which he deems his own interest.
What we have just said of each, man in particular is true also
of man in the abstract; the same forces which act upon the
mind of the individual, act also upon the life of peoples, and
upon the history of the human race.
Domination of man over man, right of the stronger, exploitation of the weaker, these are the characteristic features, which,
distinguished alike the history of antiquity and that of the middle
ages. Is it otherwise at the present time ?
Does not social ordei’ even to-day, notwithstanding our boasted:
progress, repose upon the same principle of human servitude ?
Has the present epoch, in truth, a right to contemplate with,
pride and satisfaction its present state in contrast to the social,
relations of pagan antiquity, and the Christianized middle ages ?
With a frankness which cannot well be surpassed, a statesman
of the nineteenth century, Count Joseph de Maistre, thus ex
presses himself. “ The human race has been created for the
benefit of a few. It is the business of the clergy, of the nobility,
and of the high functionaries of state, to teach the people thatwhich is good or bad, true or false, in the moral and intellectual
world. The rest of mankind have no right to reason on such
subjects, and must suffer all things without a murmur.”
If the style is somewhat highly-coloured, the portrait is taken
from nature. As long as the leaders of the people “ shall make
war without consulting the people; as long as ecclesiastics shall
unite in council or] in synod to give judgment under the auspices
of the Holy G-host, upon the false science of man,” we shall have
no right to give a denial to de Maistre. His error consists alone
in approving a similar state of things, and of supposing that such
a state can and ought to last for ever.
Allow me to cite another testimony. From this double view
the truth will be elicited.
Robert Owen, the founder of the co-operative system in Eng
land, meets one day in the house of a Frankfort banker, therenowned statesman, Frederick von Gentz. Owen expounded his
socialistic system and displayed its excellence; if union could,
but replace disunion all men would have a sufficiency. “ That is
very possible 1 ” replied von Gentz, “but we by no means wish that
the masses should become at ease and independent of us, all
government would then be impossible.”
This, gentlemen, is in two words the social question of the
present time ! For Owen the enigma of the solution is, “union.”
Gentz indicates the source of the evil which opposes this
solution, “ the spirit of domination among the privileged classes.”
Aristotle, you will remember, also divided mankind into two
classes: the one destined by nature to dominion, the other
to servitude; but this difference was to be attributed to nation
ality, and it was the character of the Greek or the barbarian,,
which was the basis of his distinction. De Maistre and Gentz,
Hon the contrary, established a distinction in the same race,
�10
between a limited aristocracy called to power and well being,
and the rest of the masses condemned to be governed and to
suffer want.
If we consider the relationships of the Church, the State, or
of society in general, everywhere, we cannot conceal from our
selves the fact, that the domination of classes and the system of
tutelage, such as it existed in the middle ages, are to be found.
The only difference between the present and the past is that,
thanks to the reform in Germany and the revolution in France,
these convictions penetrate daily into lower and lower strata of
society, and this state of things cannot last long.
It is now understood that man is not born to be governed,
lorded over, condemned, and despoiled by his fellow-men; it
is now exacted in fact, from the State and society, that these
doctrines be seriously applied.
There was a time, and the oldest among you may remember it,
when he who placed a doubt upon the right of absolute rule
was declared a “ rebel.” In the same manner is treated in the
present day, whosoever dares to shatter the chain of economic
relations. Endeavour to attack the privileges of the well-to-do
classes, the abuses of power of the great capitalists, the dominant
system of credit; or only to talk of a more equitable distribution of
material rights, in a certain sphere, you will be at once condemned
as an enemy of all social order, as a heretic towards society and as
a communist. But do not let this impede us from frankly and
openly recognising this truth—that all individual property,
material no less than intellectual, is at the same time the com
mon good of society. Just as man, so has the property of man
also its particular side, which makes it the property of the in
dividual, and its general and universal side, upon which the
community have positive claims. That the State and the com
mune levy rates and taxes upon the fortune of each in di vidua,!,
that the law should limit the disposal of property in each, is
legitimate in the eyes of all.
But we demand, has not the proprietor other duties besides
those which the law of the State prescribes, and when necessary
imposes ? Has he not duties towards society, as he has towards
his family, the community, and the Church ?
Is the sum total of what each man possesses in goods, real or
personal, the product of his own activity ? Is he not indebted
for the greater part of it to the co-operation of others, to the
common and social labour of his predecessors and his contem
poraries ? As the individual cannot attain property without the
assistance and succour of others, so neither can he enjoy its
fruits without the assistance and succour of others. It is only in
society that property can have any value, it is only in society that
man can enjoy his property. The moral duty of every proprietor is
therefore to make such a use of his property, as shall profit not
himself alone, but also the community at large, and especially
that part of it less liberally endowed than himself.
“ Riches are the wealth of all, when it is a man of worth who
possesses them.”
�11
The remarkable working-men’s movement of the last forty
years has produced excellent results in this respect. It has
awakened in the workman a sense of his social rights, and in the
well-to-do classes a sense of social duty. We willingly acknow
ledge this; there are manufacturers to whom the workman is not
a machine to be bought, like any other merchandise, at the lowest
possible cost, in order to make the greatest profit, and then to be
got rid of.
In England, France, and with us also in Germany, there are
manufacturers, enterprises, commercial men, and great landed
proprietors who make it a duty to ameliorate the hard lot of the
workmen they employ, by raising their wages and reducing their
hours of labour, by organising savings’ banks, benefit societies
for succour and for old age, by procuring healthy habitations
for their workmen, and, at a small cost, asylums, hospitals,
schools, &c. We designate in particular the system known
under the name of participation in benefits (industrial partner
ship), by which the workman, besides his wages, obtains a share
in the profits arising from his labour. In England alone,
more than 10,000 workmen find themselves in this position with
regard to the manufacturers, and the two parties have reason
to be contented with the result.
But let us not forget that here again, all depends more or less
upon the good will of the employer, and that under the most
favourable supposition, only isolated workmen or groups of workmen find their condition ameliorated. However profitable these
efforts may be as a means of education and preparation, they
are not less insufficient as a remedy for the social evil arising
from the system of wages, than the efforts made by the workmen
themselves. To obtain this remedy another power is needed,
that shall act in a general manner and upon all points.
And this leads us to our third question:—
(3.) What is to be done by the State to obtain a peaceable
solution of the labour question ?
The new Constitution of the Canton of Zurich, of the date of
“the 18th April, 1369, gives us the following answer:—■
“ Art. 23. The State promotes and facilitates the development
of Association founded upon the efforts of individuals (self-help).
It decrees by the agency of legislation all the necessary measures
for the protection of the workman.
“Art. 24. It institutes a Cantonal Bank, with the object of
developing a general system of credit.”
The primary drawing up of this project was yet more precise :
it ran as follows :—
“Art. 23. It is the duty of the State to protect and to further
the well-being of the working classes, as well as the free develop:ment of Associations.”
Art. 24. As above.
Protect and further—these two expressions clearly and precisely
denote the end of the great Association termed the State.
But what are we to understand from this direct protection and
furtherance by the State ?
�12
The despot also terms himself the protector of the people, and
war is extolled as a means for advancing civilization. Vera verum
vocabula amisimus. “ The real sense of words has been lost to us.”
It is all the more necessary to explain the sense attached to these.
The protection of the State means to us, the duty incumbent
upon each community constituted into a State to procure for each
individual, in the free development and manifestation of his
faculties, a sufficient protection, in so far as it shall not militate
against the liberty of others.
Protection alone, however, does constitute the entire duty of
the State; notwithstanding, that certain politicians limit it tothis, the mutual advancement of the members of the State must
necessarily be added.
“ By the advancement by the State ” we understand, the duty
of the community to interfere by every means in its power wherethe providence of the individual will not suffice to ‘procure him an
existence worthy of a man.
As the protection of the State answers to the principle o£
“ liberty,” and the advancement by the State to that of “ frater
nity,” it results that protection and advancement become at the
same time, and according to their respective needs, the lot of
each, and that thus the principle of equality is satisfied.
You see, gentlemen, that the social doctrine I have put forward
is the same as that which I summarised, upon a previous occasion,,
in the following formula:—
Each for all—this is the duty of man.
All for each—this is the right of man.
But what, some one will ask, if protection and advancement by
the State is to be equally the lot of each, why is the working class
specified in the Zurich Constitution ?
The working class—is it to be a privileged one on the part of theState, and favoured at the expense of the others ? This objection;
is a specious one at first sight, but it will not sustain a closer
examination.
Let us recollect, first of all, that the equality of all consists in
that each is protected and supported according to his wants, and
who can deny that in our time, it is exactly the wage-receiving
class who have need of protection and support ?
Moreover, allowance being made for the most pressing needs,,
another circumstance here presents itself, which for the present,
as well as for the impending future, imposes the duty upon theState of having especial regard to the situation of the working
classes, in order to hasten the advent of the justice which
equalises and reconciles.
Consider only the origin of what is ordinarily termed “ capi
tal,” and you will at once understand what I mean.
However different may be the ideas formed of capital, all theworld agrees in considering it as an economised labour, accumu
lated and destined for productive purposes. But who, we ask,
has furnished this law ? Is it those who possess the capital ?
Do the manufacturer, the merchant, and the great proprietor owe
�13
pffeir capital, this accumulated labour, to their own activity and
to that of their ancestors ?
On the other hand, is the want of capital, the poverty of the
labourer, and the proletarian, merely the consequence of his own
faults and of those of his ancestors ? No one will dare aver this ?
If, therefore, the actual inequality in fortunes is not alone the
result of the economic system of those who possess, and of the
anti-economic system of those who do not possess, to what other
cause must we attribute this inequality?
How does it happen that, day by day, capital accumulates in
the hands of a small minority, whilst tbe majority of the wages
scarcely suffice, notwithstanding the labour, for the needs of the
masses ?
It is evident that one must seek the solution in the iniquitous
redistribution of the return of labour in respect of the labour
provided.
Listen to what one of the most celebrated political economists
of England says upon this question—
“ The produce of labour,” says Stuart Mill, “ is redistributed
.at the present time in an almost inverse ratio to the labour sup
plied: the greatest return falls to the lot of those who never
work: after these, to those whose work is only nominal, and thus
in a descending scale, wages are reduced in proportion as the
labour becomes more onerous and more disagreeable, until at last
that which is the most fatiguing and pernicious to the body can
.scarcely secure with certainty the acquisition of the immediate
necessities of existence.”
We will not inquire by what concatenation of historical events
the labourer has been by degrees deprived of the means of labour,
and how the disproportion which exists between wages and labour
has been brought about. The question before us is the following:—
What has the State done to obtain a more equitable distri
bution of the products of labour ?
Has it ever tried either by laws or by other institutions to pro
tect the labourei’ against the preponderance of capital and to
place a limit to the social inequality which daily increases ?
If we examine the history of all States, we shall find that up to the
latest times, nothing or nearly nothing has been done in this respect.
The nobility, the clergy, or the higher civic class have exercised
for centuries, one after the other, or at the same time, an almost
exclusive influence upon public affairs; they have never hesitated
to employ the power and resources of the State which ought to
be the inheritance of all for themselves and for their particular
interests. Legislation itself, far from producing equality in com
petition and in economic relationships, has contributed by con
ceding privileges on the one side, and by limiting liberty on the
other, to enlarge the social gulf between those who possess and
those who do not.
How can we then be astonished that working men, having at
last attained the consciousness of their rights and of their
strength, exact from the State that it shall take into particular
�14
consideration their interests so long neglected? If the Con
stitution of Zurich accords to the labourers alone the protection
and assistance of the State, it is not a violation of the principle?
of equality. It is not a question here, as some timid minds fear,
to maintain the needy workman at the expense of the well-to-do
citizens; much less is it a question to create, by a lasting
assistance on the part of the State, a kind of labour feudality |
the legislator was only desirous to recognise in a frank and loyal
manner, that a duty was incumbent upon the State to make
amends for the past, to efface the injustices committed, and to
remedy the social evil it has contributed to produce. It is merely
a question how to realise what we have called the demands of an
equalising and reconciling justice.
The Constitution of Zurich does not content itself, it is true, by
proclaiming in general terms the duties and obligations of the
State; it indicates at the same time, in clear terms, the means by
which we can come to the aid of the working class.
“ The State must favour and facilitate the development of
association founded upon personal effort.”
The final end of this development is the cessation of the wage
by the insensible transition of the wage-system to that of free
labour through the means of association.
Let us now survey, one after the other, the exigencies which are
imposed upon the State, that is to say, on the body of the citizens.
In the first place, is the absolute liberty of manifesting one’s
opinion and the unlimited right of meeting and association. We
must renounce all limitation or, according to the usual term,
regiementation (organisation) of liberty.
Hence the equal right of each to participate in political life,
whence results universal and direct suffrage, and, as a necessary
consequence, the direct and universal participation of the people
in legislation and in administration.
We ask, moreover, gratuitous instruction in public institutions
which should be independent of the Church, and the establish
ment of a popular militia in the stead of permanent armies. We
combine these two propositions, the one with the other, for the
instruction and the military training of the people find them
selves in mutual relationship; to make war, above all, money
is needed, and capable soldiers, and both are obtainable by
means of good schools. The wealth of a country depends upon
the productive labour of its inhabitants, and labour is the more
productive, in so far as the labourer is able to calculate the pro
duct of his own activity, that is to say in proportion to his
intelligence. And as the labourer, so also does the soldier by means
of education become more able to perform his task, which is to
defend his country. With us, and with the majority of European
countries, nearly half the revenues of the State are expended in
preparations for war, whilst insignificant sums are awarded to
educational instruction. Reverse this order of things, and the
public income will be increased tenfold, without the respective
value of things diminishing.
�15
A minister of instruction, who understands his business, is at
once the best minister of war and of finance.
For the working classes in particular, and that having in view
the general interest, we ask—
Seduction of the hours of labour, and a fixation of the day’s
work.
The paid labourer (or receiver of wages) must also have time
and the leisure to form his mind and watch the affairs of the
State. The congress of the English Working Men’s Associa
tion, which was held in the month of August last year, at Bir
mingham, advises a period of eight hours as a common measure
for all trades and expresses the conviction that by this means,
will be fortified the physical and intellectual energy of the work
man, and we shall thereby further morals, and diminish the
number of the UnemployedProhibition of the employment of children in manufactories,
and an equal rate of wages, both for women as well as for men, are
necessary steps to prevent the diminution of wages, and to
the decline of the rising generation.
Furthermore, we desire the abolition of indirect contributions,
and the establishment of a tax progressive and proportional to
the fortune of the individuaL
Every tax upon consumption, is a tax upon the strength of
the labourer, and consequently, an impediment to the production
of wealth, and a prejudice to the well-being of the people.
Finally, reform of the system of credit, and the furtherance of
associations, both industrial and agricultural, by the means of
the institution of credit, or by the protection of the State.
It is necessary to lay open the road to credit to the work
man. What the State has done hitherto, and to such an extent
directly and indirectly for the support and protection of capital,
it must now effect, and that in its own interest, for the advance
ment of the working classes and working men’s association.
Nothing is so advantageous to the community as justice in all
thin gs.
These are the first conditions of the reform of labour. Work
men have been advised, perhaps with good intentions, to keep
themselves aloof from all politics, and to concentrate all their
attention on their economic interest, as if we could separate
economic and political interests, as we cleave wood with a hatchet.
W'hoever has followed the course of our considerations will not
doubt, I hope, that it is just the working classes whose interest
it mogt imports to modify public relationships on the side of
liberty’ The assistance of the State, no less than that of the
individual, is necessary to secure to each workman the complete
and intact product of his labour, that is to say, the possibility of
an existence worthy of a human being. The State alone can
come to the workman’s aid, and the free State alone will do it 1
Let us now briefly summarise what we have said:—
The wage-system answers now as little to the exigencies of
'ngficc and humanity, as slavery and serfdom in former times.
�16
Just as it was with slavery and serfdom, the wage-system was
formerly a progress by which society has derived incontestable
^advantages.
. The social question of our times consists therefore in the aboli
tion of the wage-system, without prejudice to the advantages
resulting from the common labour of great collective industry.
There is for this but one means, the system of free labour by
association—the co-operative system. The present time is a
transition period from the wage-system (system of production
by means of capital) to the system of labour by association.
In order that this transition may be effected in a peaceful
manner, it is requisite that the workmen, employers, and the
State act in common.
It is the duty of workmen to unite, in ordei* to resist the
oppression of capital and to raise themselves by education to
moral and material independence.
It is the duty of the employer to engage himself in the cause
•of the workman’s well-being in a philanthropic spirit, and espe
cially to accord to him a share of the profits of labour.
Finally, the' State, by the protection of association, by fixing
the hours of labour, and by giving gratuitous instruction, ought
■to further the efforts of workmen towards civilization. Upon
the State devolves, at the same time, the duty of protecting the
system of production by association on a large scale, of a reform
in the system of banks of credit, and of the institution of State
Credit ?
As such help can only be expected from a free State, it is clear
that the workmen and their friends must, before all, procure for
themselves political liberty.
Political liberty, social liberty, liberty of the citizen, without
sacrificing the majority, this is the problem of our era.
The conquests of the blood and iron policy, the din of arms,
which has reverberated in our day, the struggles and the combats
which occur for the sake of dominion and power, for fortune and
for advancement—these are but ripples on the surface of the
stream of time; in the hidden depths, slowly but steadily
advances the science of nature and of mind, and with this
science, the consciousness of the independence of man — the
world-moving idea of the Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity of ali.
Years and years may pass away, and still that saying of the Scrip/ture will be fulfilled—that joyful message which the electric-wire
brought as a first greeting from free America to Europe encum
bered with arms : “ Peace on earth and good will towards men.”
THE END.
Printed by Austin & Co., 17, Johnson’s Court, Fleet Street, E.C.
�
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Victorian Blogging
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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The social question: a speech delivered by Deputy John Jacoby, to his constituents of the second arrondissement of Berlin, on the 20th January, 1870
Creator
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Jacoby, Johann [1805-1877.]
Description
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Place of publication: London
Collation: 16 p. ; 19 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway.
Publisher
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Printed by Austin & Co. for private circulation
Date
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1870
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G5243
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<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (The social question: a speech delivered by Deputy John Jacoby, to his constituents of the second arrondissement of Berlin, on the 20th January, 1870), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
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application/pdf
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Text
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English
Subject
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Labour Movement
Socialism
Conway Tracts
Equality
Labour Movement
Political reform
Social Policy
Socialism
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' '-'' wf
.
207
,__Jfcs£j adobe, and
boasting of but one story, of course;
but it is not every one in Arizona who
can build a house with four rooms,—
if the doors do consist of old blankets, and the floor and ceiling, like
me walls, of mud.
A discharged soldier kept the station now—-a large yellow dog his
sole companion. The man slept on
the same bed that had borne Hen
dricks’s corpse, and the cudgel, with
the murdered man’s blood dried on
it, was lying at the foot of it.
“And where is his grave?” I
asked, as we stood in front of the
house.
The man’s eye travelled slowly
over the desolate landscape before us.
There were sand, verde, and cactus
on one side of us, and there were
sand, verde, and cactus on the other.
“Well, really now, I couldn’t tell.
You see, I wasn’t here when they
put him in the ground, and I have n’t
thought of his grave since I come.
Fact is, I ’ve got to keep my eyes
open for live Greasers and PacheIndians, and do n’t get much time to
hunt up dead folks’s graves! ”
CADENABBIA.
BY H. D. JENKINS.
otel belle vue, May 22.—
not that enough ? Not the whole mar
ffllave been sitting at my win- shalling of the nightly host could give
surer
dow to-night, half living in the pres tokens of a bending over all.
ent, half wandefrng in. dreams. The The mystery of misery, the burden
of sin, a little mirth, two lights dimly
lake stretches OU't black before me;
beyond this the.'black hills shut out twinkling above, —that is the picture,
the farther world; and the scarcely less and under it we will write “The
KHffilmlouds hide the heavens. From World.”
the opposite shore, where the few
I hear the bells ringing from unseen
lights of Bellagio alone relieve the bell-towers along the shore and up
darkness, the music of a band is among the hills. They are calling us
wafted across the waters of Como. to midnight prayers; — that is a good
Now the strain is no louder than the use to make of midnight, a midnight
voice of the spring in a lone pine — with two stars !
The bells have ceased, the lights
now it throbs and pulsates and whirls
until I feel it in all my blood. When are out, and the music is hushed at
the wind is favorable I catch the faint Bellagio; but the stars shine upon the
rhythm of distant feet, the sound of sleep of the world, as they shone upon
“dancers dancing in tune.” So we its dancing and its praying.
live and love, — the black earth and
A/hy 23.—I was busy in my room
waves, the hidden heaven, — in the
centre an hour of music and of danc- all the fore part of the day, to-day,
k jng;—a short joy that wearies and but toward evening I walked out with
palls, a darkness measureless and im- a friend along the western shore. (Cadenabbia is on the west of Como,
B^petrable.
As I look up there are two stars that about mid-way of its entire length.)
have broken through the clouds. Is We must have walked several miles
H
�208
CADENABBIA.
-V EM ARCH-,
up the lake and back. The hills on
and lakes, he mistakes- every hour of
the side where we were rise sharply
sunshine for a summer/? The mornffrom the water’s edge to a height of a mg was so bright that we were in
thousand feet. Two or three miles
haste to have a row. We secured a
from the hotel the road is overhung very egg-shell of a boat, and pulled
by their precipitous walls. The road briskly for a little chapel on the oppo
itself is never more than a stone’s
site shore. Everything promised well
throw from the lake, and frequently is on the start, but when we had reached
built its own width into the water.
the middle of the lake the raw chilly
The eastern shore ran raggedly winds from the north spoiled all our
along, clothed with fresh foliage from
sport; one of our fir oars snapped off
base to summit, while here and there
close to the row-lock, and we returned
majestic snow-peaks lifted their white
to wharf in front of the hotel, feeling
heads behind and above the shore
somewhat crestfallen.
hills. Monte Legnone, far up the
Once again on shore, we deter
lake, stood royally against the blue
mined that the day wh ichj^agfelyad,
sky, guarding with silent fidelity the
for rowing must ■Be.-.J.u&t.
gateway of the Spliigen. The ter climbing. We hadseen'what'^2
races, gray with olives, green with thought was a convent far up on i^e
mulberries, and tremulous with vines,
mountain overlooking CadenabLa^^;
were vocal with the voices of children
and yesterday had speculated mucli J
gathering leaves for the silk-worms,
upon the whys ancmVvnercfores. of its
or watching the browsing of the position. It seemed a good time now
goats.
to investigate this matter. Our fiasco
The water in the lake was clear and had only lost us an hour; there was
beautiful. Looking at the pebbles
time and to spare.
forty feet below the surface, one
Our ideas of the route to be pursued
seemed only to be looking through a were grandly indefinite; but we-took?*
denser atmosphere. But as the sun
the only road l^ding'joff.S^d back
passed westward, the shadows black the shore road* To 'our amazement/ '
ened and deepened the lake, until all it brought us tix /CadenaiDbia'/p.r'oper^p
picturesqueness was lost in the horri Somewhere back of a hillock we found
ble. Where there had been ripples
it; — and the very antipodes of the“^
and laughter, with all the changeful
Cadenabbia of the Hotel Belle Vue it
hues of the sunset, there was now was, albeit within hail of the voice.
only a sobbing along the foot of all We had heretofore supposed that our .
the hills, and a wide, yawning dark hotel and its dependencies comprised
ness, as the mouth of hell.
the town; but back of that hillock
We walked rapidly home, preceded lay the aged, squalid sire of this aris
part of the way by four peasant girls,
tocratic scion. Of all Italian villages
who were singing some rustic song in it is the dirtiest, the foulest, and the
a minor key. They carried all four crookedest. ^We were in its streejfeg^p
parts, and wer$ admirable in harmony before we fairly knew it; and once in,
and time. Undoubtedly the unknown we bade fair never to get out of'it?'■ r
tongue and the gathering gloom added The whole village cannot cover moreT^
much to the weird nature of their than two or three score of acres/$®jr
music.
it has grown on so original a plan
that each street is endless. Another
May 24.—To-day we were out im unfortunate peculiarity of the town
mediately after breakfast, by ten
is that the houses are built with their
o’clock at latest, upon the lake. back part before them; — at least so
When one comes from the,scorching it appeared to us. After stumbling
Lombardy plains to these mountains helplessly up and down and around
�f»J
1
CADENABBIA.
-tts, roughly cobbled alleys until about
ady to sit down and wait for the
wn to get sober, a Deus ex machina
the person of a small boy appeared
sddenly before us. Ragged, bareoted, almost bare - headed, sunirned, somewhat tattooed with varits shades of dirt,—he took us captive.
y some intuition he had compremded our purpose, and motioning
us to follow, he led us by a sort of
rk-screw passage out of the village,
to the fields overlooking it and the
ke beyond.
gQa,U^^uy';'jpfl~grfinage hung
far above Us, like an
i
Q l^estiyO^ir youthful guide was
C '‘j FyfAftiiliar:withthbyay. The
once a time when the feet of penitent
hardly
< ' rustics had marked this way more
without assistance.
, surely. Had this day that there was
We could well believe naught to tell
us^b”t die same old story of the
Eclipse ofJFaith£-^-r^rq
1
""" ’An hour’s steady pull brought us to
the miniature plateau on which the
church stood. It was of the type
A common ijhjt$eb co bitty districts of
Italy; —an- irregular mass of buildings with a squqrp bell-tower, built of
’ rough stones that were smoothed over
with stucco. The doors stood ajar,
the windows were broken and gaping.
There were two or three sombre
rooms, wherein some hermit priest
may have drearily watched out the
hours of night and day; but now the
whole was tenantless and forsaken.
The chapel, floored with coarse red
brick, -contamedrhalf a score of hardwood benches,’-.’The altar was cov1 ered with a soiled, faded, and dusty
$ cloth. Above the’ altar, and behind a
I frame, stood a huge waxy doll in an
elaborate blue sitk~dress, properly beflounced, and crowned with a crown
of tarnished gilt.
A dozen vases
perched here and there held up as
many bouquets of paper flowers, con' sisting chiefly of brown roses.
We passed behind the screen that
209
we might examine more closely this
forlorn representative of her who was
Blessed among Women. And here we
saw that, whatever might be the faith
of to-day, it respected the veneration
of yesterday; for from neck, breast,
arms, and hands, depended the offer
ings of the past. The cheap jewelry
of rustics bedizened the whole front
of the image.
Brooches, buckles,
ear-rings, and finger-rings, dangled
noW'where they had first been hung.
Amohg uhe Others j^^re two finger
rings of solid gold, — who may say
bow greatdfe tempwon to the half
starved village below ? We watched
our little bandit of a guide to see
with what sorriof feeling he might re
gard these, perhaps the richest trea
sures his eyes had ever rested upon ;
but although he ransacked every nook
with the utmost nonchalance, he did
not appear to have any more thought
of coveting these sacred offerings than
of coveting the stars.
Perhaps a
man’s life would notFhave been as
safe here as the Virgin’swings.
Just off from the chapel was a little
sacristy, scarcely larger than a closet.
No robes, ewers, chalices, or crucifiKes appeared, but then-room was
multitudinously hung with votive of
ferings that could not find place about
the Vragjin. They were rough paint
ings in oil, averaging about eight
inches by ten in size of canvas, and
unframed. Here was a man falling
over a precipice; here one thrown
from a horse; there aayoman knocked
down by a run-away; and so on
through the long possibilities of acci
dents that “flesh is heir to.” Several
were of little children enduring all
imaginable bangin^-about, while a
few represent pallid invalids lying in
their beds. In some the Virgin was
seen looking down from the left up
per corner; in others a hand was
warding off the impending evil; and
in yet others the saved or restored
were kneeling in reverential thanks
giving before Her in whom they had
put their hope. So we saw by these
�210
CADENABBIA.
rude memorials of gratitude and de
votion that the old pathway to La
Madonna di San Martino had not
been worn wholly by the feet of sor
rowing penitents.
We lingered in the little lonely old
church with a growing fondness for
its “short and simple annals of the
poor;” and when at last we did con
sent to leave it, we carefully closed its
one-hinged door, and even found
means of stopping up one or two
broken panes of glass, that the storms
of the mountain might have less free
access to the place made forever sa
cred by the love and worship of past
days. Then, taking a last look through
the mended window at the blue eyes
and dusty curls of its mute custodian,
we went around before the church and
sat down upon the edge of the terrace
whereon the church is built. This
plat, scarcely more than four rods
square, has at its back a perpendicu
lar wall of rock several hundred feet
high; and so steep is the ascent to it
that it almost appears to overhang the
lake. But here on this miniature shelf
hung between heaven and earth, Na
ture had not forgotten to do honor to
the consecrated ground; for the
mountain-grass had carpeted the ter
race with thickest velvet, and the
birds had dropped here and there the
seeds of those lilies that He loved.
One or two horn-bells gave their
mute sympathy and encouragement
to the bell that had hung so long si
lent in the weather-beaten campanile,
and a columbine growing in an angle
of the wall seemed as if endeavoring
to hide an unsightly hole that time
had eaten in the stucco of the tower.
Below us the lake lay shining in the
sun, its three branches distinctly visi
ble from this height. Half-a-hundred
miniature sails were scattered about
on its surface; the white villas along
the shore gleamed amid their groves
of chestnut and olive, and the peaks,
“ shelved and terraced round,” showed
many a black-roofed cottage and lowly
chapel. It was only when the rocks
[MarcT
behind the church threw over us thchill of a shadow, that we could persuade ourselves to bid good-bye to
San Martino and its outlook, and to.
retrace the steep and winding way
that had led us thither.
May 25.—To-day we took the little
steamer that plies upon Como, to the
north end of the lake. The pano
rama of mountains, snow-peaks, cat
aracts, villas, villages, and ruins, is
one of surprising beauty. On our re
turn we stopped at Rezzonico, nin®
miles from Cadenabbia, and walked
from there home. The road wound
around crags and through vineyards!
now skirting the water’s edge, now
hundreds of feet above it. But with
all this beauty, in Italy one must
needs see something that is disgust
ing and horrible. On the edge of
one village we came upon their burying-ground, or Campo Santo. It was
walled around with heavy stonig'X’M'
the soil could not have covered the
solid rock by more than five or six
feet, possibly by less. /' To enlarge
the enclosure had- perhaps never oc
curred to the mind of any; sb the
only resource when the place was
once full was to dig up a skeleton
every time room was needed for a
corpse. The result of this process,
long continued, was a double or triple
row of skulls all around the foot of
the wall. Some who perchance had
been in special honor in their day,
had a niche scooped out of the wall
wherein their skulls sat grinning!
a mocking commentary upon the
world’s gratitude and remembrance.
There was an old church near by,
with cracked walls and leaning tower.
We peered through its dirt-encrusted
windows, and saw the last restingplace of its many priests. One side
of a room, that might once have been
a sacristy, was covered with rows of
square pigeon-holes, and in these the
disjointed skeletons were stored away,
the skull to the front, and this surq
mounted by the priestly cap that had
�1870.]
CADENABBIA.
I been its owner’s badge of office.
Some of these Caps had slipped jauntily over on one^side, and gave to the
eyeless, tongueless crania a knowing
look and the appearance of a ghastly
leer. We could almost imagine that
tjfey winked at us and were ready to
offer a joke on their past and present.
We were well content that Provi
dence had never “cast our lines” in
tjhgt place, except as tourists.
■^iy/27. — Hitherto our rambles had
been mostly to the northward; but to
day we turned southward, following
the shore road for two or three miles.
This is the most fashionable part of
the lake, and presents nearly a continuous line of country-seats and
I pleasure-gardens. We had visited
the best of these in odd hours, but toht dM^haji set out for a good half-day’s
tramp. So we passed on through
and across the promontory
of Blbianello. Perhaps three miles
from Cadenabbia we found the road
we were looking for, one turning off
to our right and leading up the sloping and well-wooded mountain that
here rises from the lake. We had
heard that well up on this mountain
was a church built by the neighboring districts in gratitude for delivery
• from some pestilence. It of course
was Predicated to the Virgin, and
called, in commemoration of its inMaria del Soccorso. We
had »ot been long upon this branchroad before we knew that we were to
be well repaid for our walk. It led
us (Erectly to the forest—a forest of
grand old trees and the freshest foliage. The day was bright, cool and
bracing. The chestnuts were in blossom, and wild flowers in abundance
f grew on either hand. The road,
though apparently built only for an
approach to the church, was solidly
i constructed of stone and in good repair. Presently it began to ascend;
. and then we found that winding in and
,out, zigzagging upwards, it brought
jus every few moments to the edge of
I
’■ ’ ■
''T
211
a picturesque ravine which cleft the
mountain side. This little valley was
a very gem, broad enough at the bot
tom to give room for toy-like grassplats, filled with the music of running
water and the mimic thunder of cas
cades, and checkered with sun and
shade by reason of the trees that
partly shut out the day. At one
point, half-way up, we were content
to forget aTl else and enjoy the pros
pect. Lying prone on a bed of moss,
well sheltered by a noble chestnut,
we looked across the ravine and its
water-falls up the bright shining lake
for miles and miles.
. But when we gave our attention to
the matter more immediately at hand,
we found ourselves ascending one of
the most curious of the many Cal
varies of Italy. Beginning nearly at
the foot of the hill was a series of
fourteen chapels. They were from
twelve to twenty feet square, built of
stuccoed stone, surmounted by a tile
roof, and lighted by grated windows.
In each, life-sized figures of wood or
terra-cotta (we could not surely de
termine which), represented some
scenes from the New Testament, en
tableaux. Beginning with the Annun
ciation, they carried the Wondrous
Story on to its completion in the Res
urrection. In the Annunciation there
were the angel visitant in white robes,
the kneeling maiden, the burst of
glory above, the beauty of the white
lilies below. In the Nativity no part
of the humble details was lacking.
There stood ox and ass and foal
looking down into the manger where
the Babe was lying. As we drew
near the close of the scenes, the fig
ures increased in number and in dra
matic arrangement. In the portrayal
of the Crucifixion scenes there must
have been forty and fifty figures in
certain of the chapels. There were
men on horseback, men carrying lad
ders, soldiers with lances, and slaves
with the instruments of torture. True
to the poetic instinct that is in the
humblest artist, all that had a part in
�212
HEROICS.
the cruelties of the trial, torture, and
death, were almost apish in their ugli
ness; but contrary to the “unities”
of art, the leading actor in these
wickednesses had a goitred neck that
must have been modelled from some
poor Swiss rather than from a Syrian.
On our return we had the curiosity to
count the figures in all the chapels,
and found the total to be no less than
two hundred and fifty.
The church itself was a spacious
and somewhat stately building, now
in charge of a family of peasants.
The estates which once supported it
having been confiscated by the gov
ernment, its church mice were starved
out. There appeared to have been
no service in it for some time, and we
judged from the words of its custo
dian that it had somehow fallen un
der the ban of the state. A few of its
relics were displayed, one of which,
an amber crucifix eight or ten inches
in height, was an exquisite bit of ma
terial and a real triumph of art. The
x
[March,
embroidered robes, though handled
by our peasant friend with much care,
did not greatly impress us, remember
ing certain pontifical garments we
had seen elsewhere. But the crown
ing glory of the Madonna del Soccorso was the Madonna herself, a
short and somewhat stumpy doll in
the inevitable blue silk dress, with
wax cheeks, considerably darkened by
thumb marks. This we were assured
was “multo miracnloso" — a great
miracle-worker; but not having any
particular occasion for a miracle at the
time, we did not test the accuracy of
our friend’s information. So we gave
him a liberal fee, bade him Intono
giorno, and walked leisurely back to
Cadenabbia, watching the sunlight
creeping up the hills to the east of
the lake, and reaching the Hotel, dpiner, and rest, just as the last rays^f
the sunset were reddening the mouh tain-tops above the terraces of Bel
lagio.
HEROICS.
UT of the darkness and into the light,—
Battling with wrong and upholding the right;
O
Up from the depths of our mis’ry we rise,
Into the realms of His joy in the skies.
God gives us strength, and its use keeps us strong;
Only its disuse and misuse are wrong.
Up with the banner!—the struggle begin I
Labor is virtue, and idleness sin.
Muscle’s a blessing, and weakness a curse;
Strength is a fortune, and health is the purse.
Brawn is not shameful, and swarth is no ban;
Brains are not colored when cheeks become tan.
This is the measure of manhood in men,—
Victory won with a sword, plough, or pen.
J
01
�
Dublin Core
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Title
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Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
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Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Cadenabbia
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Jenkins, H. D.
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: [California]
Collation: 207-212 p. ; 24 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Publication information from KVK.
Publisher
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[s.n.]
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1870
Identifier
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G5735
Subject
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Italy
Rights
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<img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /><br /><span>This work (Cadenabbia), identified by </span><span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk">Humanist Library and Archives</a></span><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
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application/pdf
Type
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Text
Language
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English
Conway Tracts