1
10
1
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/3aaa58cd9e6980e8093a73428d7c1d28.pdf?Expires=1711584000&Signature=b16tQhRc-1N5vIGdUqWn5AP2Ypkf5vW9JL1IZelJ1tFeH0E-YGqT74lVwwFJIrOBgrQSbtJcXNZqOmJ4v23f0fg%7EsHhIoSfhj28lH15ZDSoM-EUJbp6QQBCvnqNSFoTbt5gZt92qA7hJVfWLPTTyvd%7ExN7yLvaSr2MlTSwMgBUafZuYIEt6qs1ejAiZVf7agoT%7EWUdADlPXsbEKHlZ9AlpoVbDbuFtBL7Lo04%7E2Izxyg1qrgo44wb5ibEdlWQ5a8rsbktrPccFZLMzDijalNGj-P99qtCrKn%7E%7EfswQkvrsNOk6iPII6ar9xh16PS1jLxHtWogAM5xR4pE-fdizaP4w__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
de7fb5c29702b05d959d422d53307d01
PDF Text
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.
�il
' I1'
Hi
I
J
�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.
�
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
The logic of death, or, why should the atheist fear to die?
Description
An account of the resource
Edition: Enlarged and rev. ed.
Place of publication: London
Collation: 16 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: Eightieth thousand edition. From the library of Dr Moncure Conway and part of the NSS pamphlet collection.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Holyoake, G.J.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Austin & Co.
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
G4958
CT14
N310
Subject
The topic of the resource
Death
Atheism
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
<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 logic of death, or, why should the atheist fear to die?), 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
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
application/pdf
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Language
A language of the resource
English
Atheism
Conway Tracts
Death
Death-Religious aspects-Comparative studies
NSS