of the harm done to the citizen by the ascetic other-worldliness
of logical Christianity; to the ruler, by the hatred,
malice, and all uncharitableness of sectarian bigotry;
to the legislator, by the spirit of exclusiveness
and domination of those that count themselves pillars
of orthodoxy; to the philosopher, by the restraints
on the freedom of learning and teaching which every
Church exercises, when it is strong enough; to the
conscientious soul, by the introspective hunting after
sins of the mint and cummin type, the fear of theological
error, and the overpowering terror of possible damnation,
which have accompanied the Churches like their shadow,
I need not now consider; but they are assuredly not
small. If agnostics lose heavily on the one side,
they gain a good deal on the other. People who
talk about the comforts of belief appear to forget
its discomforts; they ignore the fact that the Christianity
of the Churches is something more than faith in the
ideal personality of Jesus, which they create for
themselves,
plus so much as can be carried into
practice, without disorganising civil society, of
the maxims of the Sermon on the Mount. Trip in
morals or in doctrine (especially in doctrine), without
due repentance or retractation, or fail to get properly
baptized before you die, and a
plebiscite of
the Christians of Europe, if they were true to their
creeds, would affirm your everlasting damnation by
an immense majority.
Preachers, orthodox and heterodox, din into our ears
that the world cannot get on without faith of some
sort. There is a sense in which that is as eminently
as obviously true; there is another, in which, in
my judgment, it is as eminently as obviously false,
and it seems to me that the hortatory, or pulpit,
mind is apt to oscillate between the false and the
true meanings, without being aware of the fact.
It is quite true that the ground of every one of our
actions, and the validity of all our reasonings, rest
upon the great act of faith, which leads us to take
the experience of the past as a safe guide in our
dealings with the present and the future. From
the nature of ratiocination, it is obvious that the
axioms, on which it is based, cannot be demonstrated
by ratiocination. It is also a trite observation
that, in the business of life, we constantly take the
most serious action upon evidence of an utterly insufficient
character. But it is surely plain that faith
is not necessarily entitled to dispense with ratiocination
because ratiocination cannot dispense with faith as
a starting-point; and that because we are often obliged,
by the pressure of events, to act on very bad evidence,
it does not follow that it is proper to act on such
evidence when the pressure is absent.