^ 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The author of this book is not known by any human being. 
 No one but an ignoramus, made dogmatic by his supposed 
 knowledge, will pretend to know him. Perhaps this dogma- 
 tism will be less common, and modesty more common, when 
 common people learn that their boasted " common sense " is 
 only "common ignorance." They need a little uncommon sense 
 to keep them from that assumption of knowledge whereby they 
 expose their profound ignorance of their ignorance. The au- 
 thor of the book is unknown, even to himself. 
 
 Copyright 1877, by Charles Austral Leonard. 
 
 J 
 
Human Ignorance 
 
 "What mortal knows 
 Whence comes the tint and odor of the rose ? 
 
 What probing deep 
 Has ever solved the mystery of sleep ?" 
 
 Gentlemen and Ladies: 
 
 " We do not steadily bear in mind," says Darwin, with a no- 
 ble scientific humility, " how profoundly ignorant we are of the 
 condition of existence of every animal." There is a profound 
 ignorance which comes much nearer home to us than that — a 
 profound ignorance of the condition of existence of the human 
 being. Moreover, is there not a still profounder ignorance, which 
 comes still nearer home, viz: a profound ignorance of our 
 ignorance? 
 
 In this lecture, gentlemen and ladies, I propose to make known 
 a few of my thoughts on human ignorance — doubtless they will 
 enable you the better to appreciate the absolute profundity of my 
 own. I call myself — Professor of Ignorance. 
 
 We need light to see our ignorance. Like a guide in a 
 " Mammoth Cave," I will try to strike a match, that we may the 
 better realize, by comparison, how vast and profound is the dark- 
 ness. Perhaps the most calamitous thing in this world for the 
 thinker — the man who is anxiously peering into the darkness 
 — is, that he cannot see — that his thoughts fathom nothing. He 
 must absolutely die in his ignorance. He is not like the miser 
 who saves his candle and dies in the dark; he has no candle, and 
 dies in the dark; he must die in the dark. 
 
 The French philosopher, Bayle, says: " Blaize Pascal was one 
 of the sublimest geniuses that the world ever produced;" and 
 Pascal says: " 1 know not who has put me into the world, nor 
 what the world is, nor what I am myself. I am in ter- 
 rible ignorance of all things. I know not what is my body, 
 what my senses, what my soul — and that very part of me which 
 thinks what I am saying, which reflects upon everything, and 
 upon itself, no more knows itself than the rest." 
 
 It is a common remark among literary men — and they feel 
 the sad truth most profoundly — that the more a man learns the 
 clearer he sees that he is ignorant. The brighter the genius, 
 the blacker the cloud; for the genius is the one to realize most 
 clearly that he cannot see — that he can never know. No won- 
 
der, then, that Pascal should exclaim — "I am in terrible igno- 
 rance of all things!" No wonder that such a genius should 
 have shuddered at the impenetrable darkness! 
 
 It is a dogma of modern science, that all the phenomena of 
 the natural world, without exception, are subject to unalterable 
 law. Herbert Spencer has expressly defined the meaning of 
 the term - law,"* as it is used in this connection. He says — 
 "•Constant course of procedure' we call 'law.'" This con- 
 stant course of procedure, then, which we observe, is what I 
 mean when I make use of his term, " law." 
 
 Henry Thomas Buckle — one of the best thinkers of modern 
 times — wrote his " Introduction to the History of Civilization in 
 England," as a thoroughly philosophical answer to this one vast 
 question: "Are the actions of men, and therefore of society, 
 governed by fixed laws?" — and I wish to call your attention to 
 the decisive and unanimous answer given to this question, by 
 the most eminent philosophers of Europe and America — by the 
 most acute thinkers of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries; 
 — and I shall do this in their own language, because their ideas 
 are the most forcibly expressed by themselves. 
 
 Literary men — particularly among the German philosophers 
 — generally regard Ralph Waldo Emerson as the most profound 
 thinker the American continent has as yet produced; and Emer- 
 son says: " The day of days, the great day of the feast of life, 
 is that in which the inward eye opens to the unity in things, to 
 the omnipresence of lazv" 
 
 Moreover, Herbert Spencer, who ranks as the most able phi- 
 losopher England has produced in the nineteenth century, says: 
 " Rightly understood, the progress from deepest ignorance to 
 highest enlightenment, is a progress from entire unconscious- 
 ness of law, to the conviction that law is universal and inevita- 
 ble." 
 
 Nor is the language of Professor Draper less emphatic. In 
 his " Intellectual Development of Europe," he says: 
 
 " Too commonly do we believe that the affairs of men are 
 determined by a spontaneous action or free will; we keep that 
 overpowering influence which really controls them in the back- 
 ground. In individual life we also accept a like deception, liv- 
 ing in the belief that everything we do is determined by the vo- 
 lition of ourselves, or of those around us; nor is it until the close 
 of our days that we discern how great is the illusion, and that 
 we have been swimming, playing, and struggling in a stream, 
 which, in spite of all our voluntary motions, has silently and re- 
 sistlessly borne us onward." 
 
 This, also, is the decision of that most eminent philosopher, 
 David Hume. He says: 
 
 " We feel that our actions are subject to our will, on most 
 
occasions, and imagine we feel that the will itself is subject to 
 nothing; because when, by a denial of it, we are provoked to 
 try, we feel that it moves easily every way, and produces an 
 image of itself even on that side on which it did not settle. 
 This image, or faint motion, we persuade ourselves, could have 
 been completed into the thing itself; because, should that be 
 denied, we find, upon a second trial, that it can. But these ef- 
 forts are all in vain; and whatever capricious and irregular 
 actions we may perform, as the desire of showing our liberty is 
 the sole motive of our actions, we can never free ourselves from 
 the bonds of necessity. We may imagine we feel a liberty 
 within ourselves, but a spectator can commonly infer our actions 
 from our motives and character; and even where he cannot, he 
 concludes in general that he might, were he perfectly acquainted 
 with every circumstance of our situation and temper, and the 
 most secret springs of our complexion and disposition. Now, 
 this is the very essence of necessity." 
 
 Permit me to give you one little anecdote to illustrate this 
 entire dependence of the choice or will, on the existing circum- 
 stances. A gentleman was boasting in a crowd one day, of the 
 entire freedom of his will. " Please," said I, " hold up your 
 hand," and he held it up. " Now crook your finger," and he 
 crooked it. " Didn't you crook } T our finger because you willed 
 to do it?" "Yes, sir, I did." "But didn't my will control 
 yours in making you crook your finger ? " " Why yes, it did 
 at that particular time; but try me again." " Very well," said 
 I, " hold up your finger again. " Now are you all ready ?" 
 " Yes, I am." " I want you to make sure," said I, " because 
 my will is going to control yours, although you have deter- 
 mined it shall not. Are you sure that you are ready?" "Yes, 
 sir, I am." " Don't crook your finger," and he crooked it. 
 " Ah ! I told you not to do it on purpose to make you do it. 
 Did not my will control yours, even when 3'ou determined it 
 shouldn't ? " " It did," said he, " I must admit." " Now, said 
 I, the third time, or the three thousandth time, the crooking of 
 the finger will be either voluntary or involuntary. Of course 
 if it is involuntary, the will has nothing to do with it; but if it 
 be voluntary, it will be because something moves or controls 
 your will to crook your finger. Boast no more, therefore, of 
 the freedom of the will." Will is nothing but thought, and 
 free-will or freedom is a myth; it has no existence. 
 
 Please permit me to ask each one of you, how did you get 
 your first thought, when a babe ? W r as it by your own act or 
 will ? I am certain that your answer is, " No." Was it by 
 Nature's law or constant course of procedure ? Answer — Yes. 
 Did your second thought come in the same way ? Answer — 
 Yes. Did the 3d? 4th? 5th? 6th? Answers — Yes. Were you in 
 
any sense free to get such thoughts as you chose ? Answer — 
 No. Did you ever sec any animal, plant, or being, that was 
 not subject to fixed Laws r Ans. — No. 
 
 " Every event that happens," says (?) " is the resultant 
 
 of an infinite series of forces. Our thoughts, our actions, our 
 development, are prescribed like the growth of a plant. 
 Given the data of being, and the exact civilization and barbar- 
 ism of to-day are the inevitable result; and they would inevit- 
 ably follow again were the same conditions again given. Noth- 
 ing could have been in the least -particular otherwise than it is. 
 The current of events bears us forward as ice is swept along 
 bv the swollen current of the spring floods. We drift on the 
 stream of circumstances; our course is veered by the lightest 
 touch; we float awhile — fifty or seventy years — and finally are 
 absorbed into the restless stream of infinite force." 
 
 If this be so — if law be universal and inevitable — do we know 
 of any freedom or free-will in the universe ? Answer — Not 
 any. 
 
 If then our poor, illiterate ancestors — ages ago — struggling 
 in the forest for existence — perhaps but a little higher than other 
 naked races of savage barbarians, or hungry animals around 
 them — were the products of these universal and inevitable laws, 
 were they responsible for those laws ? Answer — No. Were 
 they irresponsible for them? Answer — Yes. What are those 
 laws ? Answer — Nature's constant course of procedure. Do 
 you suppose that our fathers and mothers — our dear, old, 
 trembling grand-fathers and grand-mothers, just dropping into 
 the grave, are guilty ! for having been the result of Nature's 
 constant course of procedure ? Answer — Just as guilty as the 
 army of delicate, bright-eyed babes, whom Nature, with 
 ceaseless march, is already rocking in the cradle to supply their 
 places. 
 
 Every man is a natural production, both in body and mind, 
 and is no more guilty than any other natural production. He 
 is not either better or worse than all other natural productions. 
 
 It is for this reason that the Hindoo philosopher — Krishna 
 says: " There is none who is worthy of my love or hatred. ' 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson says: "I can see nothing at last, in 
 success or failure, than more or less of vital force supplied from 
 the eternal." Even that old Roman — Cicero — said in the Latin, 
 ages ago: " Every man cleaves to the doctrine he has hap- 
 pened upon, as to a rock against which he has been thrown by 
 a tempest," and it seems astonishing how easily he is thrown 
 upon rocks where he sticks. If he is born in Arabia, he is 
 Mahomedan; if in Spain, he is Roman Catholic; if at Salt 
 Lake City, he is Mormon, &c: the mere accident of birth, and 
 surrounding circumstances, making him Mahomedan, Christian, 
 
Mormon, or anything else. This shows how surely mankind 
 are controlled by law. Is it charitable, then, to charge any of 
 these poor, ignorant, superstitious people with responsibility 
 for their opinions or religions ? Some one (?) says: 
 
 " All effects flow from competent causes, for which neither 
 these effects nor the instrumentalities through which they are 
 produced, are responsible. Every individual is constantly sur- 
 rounded by circumstances, every one of which has a modifying 
 influence upon all his movements. The slightest of things fre- 
 quently determines diametrically opposite action from that which 
 would have followed, had it not been present. A feather turns 
 the nicely balanced scales this way or that, according as its in- 
 fluence is applied to this side or that. And thus it is with all 
 human actions — the smallest circumstance often deciding not 
 only the fate of individuals, but also the destinies of nations. 
 
 " The individual himself is best acquainted with the circum- 
 stances controlling Mm, therefore the jurisdiction as to what are 
 duties resides within the individual; no second person being 
 competent to decide or enforce supposed duties for others. 
 Each individual produces just such actions as his inherited 
 capacities, modified by educational influences and surrounding 
 circumstances determine; and all action is legitimately and log- 
 ically the result of them, and not of any independent choosing 
 of the individual; for his choice or choosing is not at all inde- 
 pendent, but is entirely dependent upon the circumstances existing 
 at the time; and what he does, whether it be mental choosing 
 or bodily action, he does in consequence of the aforesaid exist- 
 ing circumstances; and because under these existing, controlling 
 circumstances he cannot do differently; and he did not create 
 the circumstances; neither did he create himself; being at any 
 given time a product — a result of other causes. Then where 
 rests the responsibility ? It is affirmed that it is in the individual ; 
 but no logical or sufficient reason can be adduced to maintain 
 it." This settles the question of responsibility. 
 
 In his figurative language the Arab says: " No man can by 
 flight escape his fate. The Destinies ride their horses by night." 
 
 Timid mortals who dare not look this truth in the face, and who 
 cannot bring any argument to refute this reasoning, cry — " Oh! 
 it will never do to say this ! " But those who are brave enough 
 to cling to truth, and are fully determined to follow her where- 
 soever she may lead, have nothing to do with this cowardice; 
 and want the facts, let them be what they may. 
 
 Why, it may be asked, if law be so universal and inevitable, 
 do you say anything at all? The question is sensible enough, or 
 rather would be, if it were not like asking the Mississippi why it 
 should continue to flow; or, old father Time why he should not 
 stop, throw away his scythe, and shed that last lock of hair 
 
from his old bald pate. My answer is — /, too, am in the rushing- 
 stream, and this lecture also. 
 
 But, says another, would you do nothing with robbers and 
 murderers? I answer — these same laws will also make me act 
 according to circumstances. Nature's ferocity is in me also. 
 Doubtless, I should join in trying to stop them; but I should 
 hope to do this without malice; and, unless I was driven by 
 passion to act as ferociously as the robber, I would not punish 
 for the sake of punishing; knowing as I do that the robber's 
 conduct was simply the necessary product of his surroundings. 
 Nature gives to different men different temperaments. One 
 man's temperament is such, that he cannot submit to an insult at 
 all, but he flies into a state of furious passion. Another is per- 
 fectly cool, and thinks with Emerson — " If a man is insulted he 
 can be insulted, all his affair is not to insult." Of course we 
 are sometimes obliged to restrain the cruel and vicious, as they 
 are called; but, if we do this in a cruel and vicious manner to 
 punish, what better are we than they? Would it not be better 
 that our efforts should, if possible, be directed towards restrain- 
 ing and reforming, rather than be dictated by anger or revenge, 
 or a desire to -punish ? 
 
 " On the theory of Necessity (we are told) a man cannot help 
 acting as he does; and it cannot be just that he should be pun- 
 ished for what he cannot help. 
 
 " Not if the expectation of punishment enables him to help it, 
 and is the only means by which he can be enabled to help it ?"" 
 — John Stuart Mill. 
 
 So far as the civil law alters or controls the aforesaid Neces- 
 sity — preventing the so-called criminal act — so far, I would 
 approve of it; but I would not approve of it on the principle 
 that the man was guilty whom circumstances caused to com- 
 mit the act. 
 
 Lord Bacon says: — 
 
 " In seeking revenge a man is but even with his enemy, but 
 in passing the offence over he is superior." Perhaps we shall 
 outgrow our old prejudices. Let us remember that " the first 
 doubt was the womb and cradle of progress; and that from the 
 first doubt, man has continued to advance." 
 
 " In every age," says Ingersoll, " some thinker, some doubter, 
 some investigator, some hater of hypocrisy, some despiser of 
 sham, some lover of the right, has gladly, proudly, and heroic- 
 ally, braved the ignorant fury of superstition for the sake of man 
 and truth. These men were generally torn in pieces by the 
 worshipers of the gods. Socrates was poisoned because he 
 lacked reverence for some of the deities. Christ was crucified 
 by a religious rabble for the crime of blasphemy." It is enough 
 to make one almost insane with pity to think what man in the 
 
Jong night of ignorance has suffered from these foolish super- 
 stitions: but the human mind, by the aid of science, seems to be 
 breaking the chains of priestcraft; and the hope is, that so far 
 as these old superstitious religions are concerned, " the morning 
 is breathing upon us": although it may yet require a struggle 
 of centuries, before " the reddening twilight can break into the 
 full lustre of day." 
 
 But, Gentlemen and Ladies, in order to realize our state of 
 ignorance, we must remember that Nature's constant course of 
 procedure, so far as we know, has nothing at all to do with cause 
 and effect. 
 
 The philosopher David Hume, says Emerson, owes his 
 fame to one keen observation, that no copula had been detected 
 between cause and effect, either in physics or in thought; that 
 the term, cause and effect, was loosely or gratuitously applied to 
 what we know only as consecutive, not at all as causal. M >st 
 people who have not reflected upon this subject suppose that it 
 it is perfectly easy to see why a cause should produce an effect; 
 but the truth is, they do not know why a cause should ever 
 produce an effect, in any conceivable case. 
 
 Hume is exactly correct in saying we can discover no copula 
 or link between cause and effect, either in physics or in thought; 
 neither do we know that there is any copula. All that w r e know 
 about it, if we know anything, is, that one thing follows another. 
 
 In hopes, my hearers, that you may see I am right, I will give 
 two or three illustrations in physics. 
 
 Suppose you have an iron rod one foot long. Call one end A, 
 the other B. 
 
 A B. 
 
 It is supposed that iron is composed of atoms; that these 
 atoms are indestructible and unalterable. If the iron rod be 
 placed in the fire, it is believed the atoms will be driven farther 
 apart; because the iron becomes larger. It is supposed that 
 these atoms never touch each other; and that they are held near 
 each other by some unknown something called attraction. 
 These atoms may be as far apart, compared with their size, as 
 the planets or stars compared with theirs. Perhaps these atoms 
 attract each other: perhaps the}^ are driven towards each other 
 by something external. We do not certainly know whether 
 they are attracted or driven; nor do we know what the attrac- 
 tion or driving force can be: perhaps they are not either driven 
 or attracted. In short, we do not know why the atoms should 
 be held together at all. 
 
 It, then, you take hold of the iron rod at the end A, and pull, 
 why should it draw the other end, B, towards you? Why 
 should this effect follow the cause? Answer: We do not 
 
8 
 
 know. Not knowing why the atoms of iron should be held to- 
 gether at all, we have no means of knowing why the other end 
 of the rod, B, should follow the end, A. To say that B follows 
 A, because A attracts it, is mere verbiage — a mere quibbling 
 with words — if we have no knowledge at all, what attraction 
 can be. The simple truth, then, is, we have not the slightest 
 knowledge why this effect should follow the cause. 
 
 But again: Suppose there are no atoms in the iron rod: then 
 why does not iron, in a liquid state, adhere as firmly as in a 
 solid state? Why does it adhere at all? Answer. We do not 
 know. 
 
 My hearers will not fail to observe that this simple example 
 covers immense ground, and reaches an infinite number of 
 what are called " causes " and "effects " in physical operations. 
 For instance, can we tell why water should run down hill 
 when we do not know at all what the attraction of the earth 
 can be? No, we certainly cannot. Another kind of illus- 
 tration: Please look at my hand. — (Showing it). I will now 
 crook my finger. — (Crooking it.) Do you see that the finger 
 is crooked? How could my thought that I would crook my 
 finger crook it? Why should this effect follow the cause ? 
 Answer: We do not know. 
 
 But this is not only true in physics, it is also true in thought. 
 Can we tell why one thought should suggest or cause another 
 thought ? We certainly cannot; for we have not even the 
 slightest suspicion how one thought possibly can produce an- 
 other thought. Of course, then, the why it should do so is en- 
 tirely beyond our ken. Try as many examples as you choose, 
 and you will find that in no conceivable case do we ever know 
 why an effect should follow a cause; much less can you tell 
 why a cause should produce an effect ? 
 
 These are, most assuredly, very striking examples of our 
 profound ignorance; but I shall present you with far more 
 striking examples than these. 
 
 It is recorded, as a sa}nng of Turgot, that he who had never 
 doubted of the existence of matter, might be assured he had 
 no turn for metaphysical disquisitions. Nevertheless, I shall 
 invite all of my hearers who wish to follow truth wherever it 
 may lead, and not falsehood, even if truth lead into Cimmerian 
 darkness, to listen attentively; because I am anxious that, if I 
 do adhere to the simple truth, my hearers should feel fully con- 
 vinced of the fact. 
 
 Let us once more think of our iron rod. Do we certainly 
 know that there is such a thing as iron outside of our minds, or 
 souls, or spirits, or thoughts, or inner-self, or whatever name 
 we choose to call it ? 
 
"I know!" shouts the ignoramus, "that there is iron! be- 
 cause I see it, and have it in my hand." 
 
 Let us assume, then, for the sake of the argument, that there 
 is such a thing as mind, or soul. On this assumption, then, 
 what is it that really sees? What is it that actually performs 
 that marvelous feat of seeing ? Is it this outside optical instru- 
 ment called the eye? or is it the inner man called soul or mind 
 that sees ? You do not suppose that your eye knows anything 
 — can learn anything— or ascertain anything? Doubtless you 
 say it must be the soul, spirit, or mind, that ascertains there is 
 an object, or really sees. Very well, what hears ? Why, the 
 same thing. If the spirit does the seeing, it doubtless does the 
 hearing also. What tastes? smells? feels? and thinks? Doubt- 
 less you will reply:— "It is something we call mind or soul." 
 Well, then, if all the seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, feeling, 
 and thinking are in the mind, spirit, or soul, or whatever you 
 choose to call it; what evidence have we that there is any out- 
 side world at all? — any such thing as matter? For what pos- 
 sible means have we of ascertaining anything, except by see- 
 ing, hearing, feeling, tasting, smelling, or thinking ? Answer: 
 We have none. And if these six things only exist in the mind 
 or soul — if they are all purely mental or spiritual experiences — 
 why, then, our knozvledge is limited by, or confined to, these ex- 
 periences. We know of nothing outside of them. Have we, 
 then, any means of knowing that there is a material world out- 
 side of these experiences ? Answer: We have none. Can 
 we, then, have any knowledge at all of matter? Answer: 
 Not any. 
 
 This is the transcendental view — the view of one of the 
 clearest-headed of all thinkers — Bishop Berkley. This is also the 
 view of Emerson — of Thoreau — of Agassiz — of Hawthorn — of 
 Huxley — of Fichte, and a host of other German philosophers; 
 — in fact, of every great intellect in Europe or America. I 
 place Bishop Berkley's name first, because his piercing intellect 
 was the first to see and prove that — using his own words — " We 
 have no certain assurance of the existence of matter." Before 
 Bishop Berkley's time hardly any one ever doubted our abso- 
 lute knowledge of the existence of matter! Since his time 
 ever}- able thinker doubts it. 
 
 We do not assert that there is no matter; we simply say, 
 with all modesty, we do nut know whether there is or not. 
 
 Please listen for one moment to one argument only of Bishop 
 Berkley's. 
 
 " If there were external bodies, it is impossible we should 
 ever come to know it; and if there were not, we might have 
 the very same reasons to think there were that we have now." 
 Now comes the proof: " Suppose — what no one can deny pos- 
 
IO 
 
 sible — an intelligence, without the help of external bodies, to be 
 affected with the same train of sensations or ideas that you are, 
 imprinted in the same order and with like vividness in his mind: 
 I ask whether that intelligence hath not all the reason lo be- 
 lieve the existenee of eorporeal substances represented by his 
 ideas, and exciting them in his mind, that you can possibly have 
 for believing the same thing ? Of this there can be no ques- 
 tion — which one consideration were enough to make any rea- 
 sonable person suspect the strength of whatever arguments he 
 may think himself to have for the existence of bodies without " 
 — that is outside of — " the mind." 
 
 The German philosopher, Ueberweg, says: "Undoubtedly 
 this is true, and in dreams we actually have the very belief 
 without any grounds for it." 
 
 This is unanswerable. This settles the question as to our 
 actual knozvledge of the existence of matter. We cannot get 
 outside of our consciousness. Perhaps there is an outside 
 world, but whether there is or not is unknown to us. We do 
 not, and cannot, certainly know it. 
 
 We have been reasoning on the supposition or assumption 
 that something called soul exists. We will now look a little 
 deeper. 
 
 Professor Huxley — the eminent English scientist — says : 
 
 " Our knowledge of anything we know or feel is nothing 
 more or less than a knowledge of states of consciousness. i\nd 
 our whole life is made up of such states. Some of these states 
 we refer to a cause we call 'self; others to a cause or causes 
 which may be comprehended under the title of 'not-self.' But 
 neither of the existence of 'self,' nor of that of 'not-self,' have 
 we, or can we by any possibility have, any such unquestionable 
 and immediate certainty as we have of the states of conscious- 
 ness which we consider to be their effects. They are not im- 
 mediately observed facts, but results of the application of the 
 law of causation to those supposed facts. Strictly speaking, 
 the existence of a 'self and of a 'not-self are hypotheses by 
 which we account for the facts of consciousness. They stand 
 upon the same footing as the belief in the general trustworthi- 
 ness of memory, and in the general constancy of the order of 
 nature — as hypothetical assumptions which cannot be proved, 
 or known with that highest degree of certainty which is given 
 by immediate consciousness. Descartes' celebrated formula — 
 " I think therefore I am," is unphilosophical, for the ' I ' in 'I 
 think' is assumed. Secondly, 'I think' is not one simple 
 proposition, but three distinct assertions contained in one. The 
 first of these is, 'something called / exists'; the second is 
 ' something called thought exists'; and the third is, ' the thought 
 is the result of the action of the I.' 
 
II 
 
 " Now, it will be obvious to you that the only one of these 
 three propositions which does not admit of doubt is the second, 
 viz : that something called thought exists. // cannot be doubted, 
 for the very doubt is an existent thought. But the first — that 
 something called / exists, and the third — that the thought is the 
 result of the action of the /—whether true or not, may be 
 doubted, and have been doubted. For the assertor may be 
 asked, ' How do you know that the thought is not self-existent ? 
 or that a given thought is not the effect of its antecedent 
 thought, or of some external power?' 
 
 " Whatever the universe may be, all we can know of it is 
 the picture presented to us by consciousness. This picture may 
 be a true likeness — though how this can be is inconceivable. 
 
 " We thus see clearly and distinctly," says Huxley, " and in 
 a manner which admits of no doubt, that all of our knowledge 
 is a knowledge of states of consciousness. Thus it is an in- 
 disputable truth that what we call the material world is only 
 known to us under the forms of the ideal world." 
 
 This is TRUE, whether it can or can not be seen by that 
 boasted RSir 3 " common sense" which Professor Huxley has 
 most justly labelled I^HP " common ignorance." 
 
 It may be said : " ^"matter does exist, perhaps soul is matter;" 
 or, " If soul does exist, perhaps matter is soul." Herbert 
 Spencer, with the keenest penetration and most consummate 
 ability, truly says : 
 
 " The Materialist, seeing it to be a necessary deduction from 
 the law or correlation, that what exists in consciousness under 
 the form of feeling, is transferable into an equivalent of me- 
 chanical motion, and by consequence into equivalents of all the 
 other forces which matter exhibits; may consider it therefore 
 demonstrable that the phenomena of consciousness are material 
 phenomena. 
 
 " But the Spiritualist, setting out from the same data, may 
 argue with equal cogency, that if the forces displayed by mat- 
 ter are cognizable only under the shape of those equivalent 
 amounts of consciousness which they produce, it is to be inferred 
 that these forces, when existing out of consciousness, are of the 
 same intrinsic nature as when existing in consciousness; and 
 that so is justified the spiritualistic conception of the external 
 world, as consisting of something essentially identical with what 
 we call mind. 
 
 " Manifestly the establishment of correlation and equivalence 
 between the forces of the outer and the inner worlds, may be 
 used to assimilate either to the other, according as we set out 
 with one or other term." 
 
 This shows that if soul be matter, then the Materialists may 
 
12 
 
 be right in holding that nothing but matter exists; and it 
 all matter be soul, then the Spiritualists may be right in holding 
 to the exclusive existence of souls; but that most distinguished 
 philosopher, Fichte, shows most conclusively that we do not 
 know that cither exist. 
 
 Frothingham in his admirabU ' history of Transcendental- 
 ism in New England," says: " Fichte accepted without hesi- 
 tation the confinement within the limits of consciousness. The 
 tacts of consciousness, he said, are all we have. The states and 
 activities of the mind, perceptions, ideas, judgments, sentiments, 
 or bv whatever other name they ma} 7 be called, constitute, by 
 his admission, all our knowledge; and beyond them we cannot 
 go. Of the outward world he knew nothing and had nothing 
 to sav; he was not concerned with that. The mind is the man, 
 the history of the mind is the man's history; the processes of 
 the mind report the whole of experience; the phenomena of the 
 external universe are mere phenomena, reflections, so far as we 
 know, of our thought; the mountains, woods, stars, are facts of 
 consciousness, to which we attach these names. To infer that 
 they exist because we have ideas of them, is illegitimate in phil- 
 osophy. The ideas stand by themselves, and are sufficient of 
 themselves. 
 
 " The mind is first, foremost, creative and supreme. It takes 
 the initiative in all processes. He that assumes the existence 
 of an external world does so on the authority of consciousness. 
 If he says consciousness compels us to assume the existence of 
 such a world, that it is so constituted as to imply the realization 
 of its conception, still we have simply the fact of consciousness; 
 power to verify the relation between this inner fact and a cor- 
 responding physical representation, there is none. Analyze the 
 facts of consciousness as much as we may, revise them, compare 
 them, we are still within their circle and cannot pass beyond its 
 limit. 
 
 " Is it urged that the existence of an external world is a neces- 
 sary postulate? The same reply avails, namely, that the idea 
 of necessity is but one of our ideas, a conception of the mind, 
 an inner notion or impression which legitimates itself alone. 
 Does the objector further insist in a tone of exasperation caused 
 by what seems to him, quibbling, that in this case consciousness 
 plays us false, makes a promise to the ear which it breaks to the 
 hope — lies in short? The imperturbable philosopher sets aside 
 the insinuation as an impertinence. The fact of consciousness, 
 he maintains, stands and testifies for itself. It is not answerable 
 for anything out of its sphere. In saying what it does it speaks 
 the truth; the whole truth so far as we can determine." 
 
 " The reasoning by which Fichte cut off the certainty of a. 
 material world outside of the mind, told with equal force against 
 
i 3 
 
 the objective existence of souls or a spiritual world. The men- 
 tal vision being bounded by the mental sphere, its objects being 
 there, and only there, with them we must be content. The 
 mind has its domain, untrodden forests to explore, silent and 
 trackless ways to follow, mysteries to rest in, light to walk by, 
 fountains and floods of living water, starry firmaments of 
 thought, continents of reason, zones of law; and with this do- 
 main it must be satisfied. God is one of its ideas; immortality 
 is another; that they are anything more than ideas cannot be 
 known." 
 
 This settles the qestion as to our knowledge of soul: if there 
 are souls of any kind, we certainly do not and cannot know it. 
 
 As philosophers believe in the principle that we have no idea 
 of external substance, distinct from the ideas of particular quali- 
 ties, so also they hold a like principle with regard to the mind, 
 that we have no notion of it, distinct from the particular percep- 
 tion. 
 
 If b} r mind is meant anything more than thoughts or percep- 
 tions, we have no knowledge of it : — not any. 
 
 " Doctrines which, like those under discussion, reject the ulti- 
 mate data of consciousness as untrustworthy, oppose the aggre- 
 gate convictions and experiences of men, and ignore the funda- 
 mental principles upon which society is constituted, are not 
 necessarily to be rejected as false for these reasons, nor on account 
 of any other ' logical consequences ' whatever, however serious 
 they may appear ; unless such consequences involve a reductio 
 ad absurdum aut imfossibile. If science declares them true, they 
 must be accepted as such mat coelum ; there is no appeal." 
 Charles Elam. 
 
 " We know of no difference between matter and spirit, 
 because we know nothing with certainty about either. Why 
 trouble ourselves about matters of which, however important 
 they may be, we do know nothing, and can know nothing ? " 
 Huxley. 
 
 In his " Critique of Pure Reason," the great Kant has proved 
 the absolute impenetrability of our knowledge of the essence of 
 things. Our sensual and intellectual organs are not adapted to 
 such knowledge. The ideality (/. e. objective non-reality) of 
 time, space, and causality, taught by Kant, is the final death- 
 blow of the a priori dogmatism of former systems. Our intel- 
 lect can never go beyond the appearances of things, — the phe- 
 nomena. 
 
 Having, then, no knowledge of our own soul or mind, how 
 absurd to suppose we can know anything of the souls or minds 
 of others — whether they be men, angels, gods, or devils. What 
 are all these but mere thoughts or conceptions ? A recent 
 
r 4 
 
 writer makes this sensible remark : — " That God must ever 
 remain a mere conception, even in the life hereafter, if such 
 there be, will scarcely be denied, except by those who, like 
 Brother Moody, fashion their god after a little seven-by-nine 
 pattern o\ their own." 
 
 And what a wonderful pattern ! This anthropomorphic god 
 goes to a little desert country at the east end of the Mediterranean, 
 and has a child by a married woman ! Having successfully ac- 
 complished this feat on an insignificant little ball between Mars 
 and Venus, so small that if looked for from Jupiter it would be 
 lost in the sun's rays; his next charming exploit is to have him- 
 self, or his son, who " was equal to himself," and " was him- 
 self," and a third person named " Ghost," who was also him- 
 self! hung uft on a gallows ! — a veritable scarecrow ! 
 
 This all being so, Moody and Sankey, like Peter the Hermit, 
 at the head of thousands of crazy fanatics, proceed, singing and 
 shouting, on their way to the Holy Land. The Devil is to 
 bathe in eternal fire and brimstone all who fail to join this rabble ! 
 Sensible Chicagoans ! — very ! victims of a kind of singing and 
 howling mesmerism ! Bostonians — ditto ! thoroughly ditto ! 
 Sensible ! — very ! ! ! 
 
 What Carlyle said of the English is certainly true of the 
 Americans, viz., that the " British nation consists of thirty mil- 
 lions of people — mostly fools." Surely Dean Swift's wit is 
 much needed. 
 
 Lord Chesterfield sent to Voltaire a letter in which was 
 copied from the Dean's MS. this poem : 
 
 << THE DAY OF JUDGMENT." 
 
 " With a whirl of thought oppress' d, 
 
 I sank from reverie to rest. 
 
 A horrid vision seized my head, 
 
 I saw the graves give up their dead ! 
 
 Jove, armed with terrors, bursts the skies, 
 
 And thunder roars and lightning flies ! 
 
 Amazed, confused, its fate unknown, 
 
 The world stands trembling at his throne ! 
 
 "While each pale sinner hung his head, 
 
 Jove, nodding, shook the heavens, and said: 
 
 ' Offending race of human kind, 
 
 By nature, reason, learning blind ; 
 
 You who through frailty stepp'd aside, 
 
 And you who never fell from pride ; 
 
 You who in different sects were shamm'd, 
 
 And come to see each other damn'd, 
 
 (So some folks told you, but they knew 
 
 No more of Jove's designs than you) ; 
 
 — The world's mad business now is o'er, 
 
 And I resent these pranks no more. 
 
 — I to such blockheads set my wit ! 
 
 I damn such fools ! Go, go, you're bit.' " 
 
i5 
 
 The trouble with these little Moodyites is, that they cannot, or 
 do not, think for themselves at all. 
 
 Not so with that most able and liberal French thinker, Gus- 
 tave Florens; who says: "God and. the human soul are ex- 
 ploded hypotheses." Of course until they are proved to exist, 
 they are nothing but hypotheses. In our experience we have 
 never encountered ghosts or souls apart from matter; nor in 
 our experience have we ever encountered witches, gods or 
 devils in the air. So fas as our experience is concerned, we 
 have never so much as in a single instance, either seen, tasted, 
 felt, heard, or smelt! a single god, devil, goddess, witch or ghost; 
 nor have we any certain knoivledge that either of them exist, or 
 ever have existed. 
 
 The human soul and god are both unthinkable: for the as- 
 sumed soul, or little ' I,' is precisely as unthinkable as the as- 
 sumed god or 'Infinite I.' Has it never occurred to you that 
 the thing which thinks, if there be any such thing, cannot think 
 of itself? That grand reasoner, Hume, says: "For my part 
 when I enter most intimately into what I call myself, I always 
 stumble on some particular perception or other, of heat or cold, 
 light or shade, love or hatred, pain or pleasure. I never can 
 catch myself at any time without a -perception, and never can 
 observe anything but the perception. It cannot, therefore, be 
 from any of these impressions, or from any other, that the idea 
 of self is derived; and consequently there is no such idea." 
 
 Can you know that a thing exists, if you cannot even think of 
 it? Certainly not. I think you will all admit this. If, then, as 
 Hume shows, w 7 e cannot think of self, or the I, or soul, do 
 we know that it exists ? Answer: No: we cannot certainly 
 know that it exists. Not only is it true that we do not know 
 what we are, but it is also true that we cannot even so much as 
 think of ourselves. The ' I ' is utterly unthinkable. A thought 
 is itself the evidence of its existence, but it does not tell us any- 
 thing about the origin of thought. We know the thoughts, per- 
 haps, if we know anything, but we certainly do not know the 
 thinker. All those eminent scientific thinkers of England, 
 France and Germany — Hume, Huxley, Florens, and Fichte — 
 concur in saying the existence of a soul or 'self is a mere 
 hypothesis. We certainly have no knowledge of its truth. 
 
 If, then, we have no knowledge of the Little Fellow, have we 
 any knowledge of the Big Fellow ? 
 
 Let us look at a mathematical demonstration that either we 
 do not exist, or, an Infinite God does not exist. 
 
 First: If Deity is an infinite being, i. e. in extent, occupying 
 all space everywhere, and is material, then there can be no other 
 material being in the universe: for another being would be so 
 
i6 
 
 much added to infinity! making the absurd amount equal to 
 Infinite being + finite being! 
 
 Secondly: If Deity is everywhere, as is asserted by those 
 curious classes of dreamers called Mahomedans, Christians, Mor- 
 mons, &c. — if he is an infinite spiritual being, occupying the whole 
 of spare — then there can be no other spiritual being occupying 
 space: for it is a settled mathematical axiom that two things 
 cannot occupy the same space at the same time: and it is an 
 absurdity to believe they can. 
 
 There is, then, either no finite being in the universe, or, there 
 is no infinite being. 
 
 Therefore, if Deity is an Infinite Being, there can be no other 
 
 Corrollary: If there is a finite being in the universe, there 
 can be no infinite being. Q. E. D. 
 
 You will observe that in this exact mathematical demonstra- 
 tion I mean by the term other being, a being that is not God, 
 or a part of God. If, as some intelligent thinkers say, finite 
 beings are a part of the Infinite Being, then, Gentlemen and 
 Ladies, we are all of us God, or a part of God, are we not? 
 
 " Swedenborg's own words are: "In creation nothing lives 
 but God himself." 
 
 William H. Channing says: "In the strictest sense man is 
 incarnate deity; is the Infinite Unity manifested in Finite Multi- 
 plicity. Not Jesus alone, but every spirit in human form, is 
 divine. True piety is to be purely one's own self; for this in- 
 most power of life is God. Let us waste no time or power on 
 fanciful theories of a heavenly hierarchy; or impertinent inves- 
 tigations into the mysteries of God: our true end is to be manly, 
 and in that manliness to reveal here and now, Divinity." 
 
 Spinoza saw plainly that there is no assigning a limited part 
 to the Infinite; that Divinity is all or is nothing; that if the 
 Divine be a reality, it must pervade all. 
 
 Spinoza's philosophy, entirely pantheistic, holds that God is a 
 being absolutely infinite — a substance consisting of infinite attri- 
 butes. Substance is necessary and infinite, one and indivisible, 
 and therefore God. Nothing exists except substance. Sub- 
 stance cannot produce substance, and consequently there is no 
 such thing as creation, neither beginning nor end. All things 
 move by fixed laws, without free will or contingency. God 
 and the Universe are the same. All events happen by an im- 
 mutable law of Nature, by an unconquerable necessity. God 
 is the Universe or Nature producing a series of necessary move- 
 ments or acts, in consequence of intrinsic, unchangeable, and 
 irresistible energy. 
 
 That wise old Aristotle believed that God, the Universe and 
 Nature were one, and, in reality^ he entertained the modern 
 
*7 
 
 doctrine of Evolution. Some of the results which he arrived at 
 are very grand. Thus, he concluded that everything is ready 
 to burst into life, and that the various organic forms pre- 
 sented to us by Nature are those which existing conditions 
 permit. Should the conditions change, the forms will also 
 change. Hence there is an unbroken chain from the simple 
 element through plants and animals to man, the different groups 
 merging by insensible shades into each other. 
 
 Many people hoot at the idea of our being a part of God! 
 Very well, if we are not, then it is mathematically demonstrable 
 that, if finite beings occupy any portion of space, there is no 
 infinite being occupying space. If souls are anything, they 
 must be somewhere : if they are somewhere, they are in the 
 universe of space: if they are not in the universe of space, they 
 are nowhere : if they are nowhere, they are nothing- — nothing 
 but exploded hypotheses. 
 
 That fearless, independent German — Buchner — says: " That 
 the world is not governed, as frequently expressed, but that the 
 changes and motions of matter obey a necessity inherent in it, 
 which admits of no exception, cannot be denied by any person 
 who is but superficially acquainted with the natural sciences." 
 
 " What this or that man may understand by a governing 
 reason, an absolute power, a universal soul, a personal God, &c, 
 is his own affair. The theologians with their articles of faith, 
 must be left to themselves." 
 
 As for the unreasoning crowd of sectarians called Mahome- 
 dans, Christians, Mormons, &c, who believe in God and the 
 Devil, and say you must have faith/ you must have faith in 
 Korans, Books of Mormon, or other unauthenticated and fabu- 
 lous bibles, to keep you from eternal damnation in hell fire! — if 
 they say all finite spirits are a part of God's Spirit, please ask 
 them as delicately as possible, whether it is exactly proper — as 
 in that case the Devil is a part of God ! — whether it is exactly 
 orthodox and proper to worship the Devil! ? 
 
 But, let us take another view. Do you suppose that the uni- 
 verse is to come to an end? so that some time or other there 
 will be absolutely nothing at all? I think I may venture to give 
 your answer: " No." Is it not equally as absurd and unreas- 
 onable to suppose there ever was a time when there was abso- 
 lutely nothing at all? I think so, and I think it must appear so 
 to you. Why, then, do some people speak of a " commence- 
 ment"? or a " beginning"? We know of no greater probabil- 
 ity of a beginning than an end. We have no evidence what- 
 ever of the commencement of a creator, or of the commencement 
 
of a creation. I see no solid ground for believing there ever 
 was a " creator " or a " creation." Do you say that because 
 Nature is so wonderful and beautiful, that therefore it must have 
 had a more wonderful and beautiful God to make it? The ar- 
 gument overthrows itself; for then God No. I must have had a 
 still more wonderful and beautiful God No. 2, to create him! and 
 God No. 2 must have had God No. 3, and God No. 3 must 
 have had God No. 4, and so on, ad infinitum; and this infinite 
 series of Gods would have had one "constant course of pro- 
 cedure " — would in fact simply be a part of the great Nature — 
 conforming to its laws. We had better, therefore, be content 
 with our dear old mother Nature, as we see her, and discard 
 all these unnecessary gods as exploded hypotheses. 
 
 We often hear people persistently urge that there must have 
 been an intelligence — a mental world or universe of ideas, or 
 there could have been no material world, or universe of objects. 
 But, says Hume: " A mental world, or universe of ideas, re- 
 quires a cause as much as does a material world, or universe of 
 objects; and, if similar in its arrangement, must require a simi- 
 lar cause. For, what is there in this subject which should occa- 
 sion a different conclusion or inference? In an abstract view, 
 they are entirely alike; and no difficulty attends the one suppo- 
 sition which is not common to both of them. 
 
 " Again, when we will needs force experience to pronounce 
 some sentence,even on these subjects which lie beyond her sphere, 
 neither can she perceive any material difference, in this particu- 
 lar, between these two kinds of worlds; but finds them to be 
 governed by similar principles, and to depend upon an equal 
 variety of causes in their operations. We have specimens in 
 miniature of both of them. Our own mind resembles the one; 
 a vegetable or animal body the other. Let experience, there- 
 fore, judge from these samples. Nothing seems more delicate, 
 with regard to its causes, than thought; and as these causes 
 never operate in two persons after the same manner, so we 
 never find two persons who think exactly alike. Nor, indeed, 
 does the same person think exactly alike at any two different 
 periods of time. A difference of age, of the disposition of his 
 body, of weather, of food, of company, of books, of passions; 
 any of these particulars, or others more minute, are sufficient to 
 alter the curious machinery of thought, and communicate to it 
 very different movements and operations. As far as we can 
 judge, vegetables and animal bodies are not more delicate in 
 their motions, nor depend upon a greater variety or more curi- 
 ous adjustment of springs and principles. 
 
 " How, therefore, shall we satisfy ourselves concerning the 
 cause of that intelligence or ideal world into which those people 
 would trace the material? Have we not the same reason to 
 
i'9 
 
 trace that ideal world into another ideal world, or new intelli 
 gent principle? But if we stop and go no further, why go so 
 far? Why not stop at the material world? How can we sat- 
 isfy ourselves without going on in infinitum? And, after all, 
 what satisfaction is there in that infinite progression? Let us 
 remember the story of the Indian philosopher and his elephant. 
 It was never more applicable than to the present subject. If the 
 material world rests upon a similar ideal world, this ideal world 
 must rest upon some other; and so on, without end? It were 
 better, therefore, never to look beyond the present material 
 world. By supposing it to contain the principle of its order 
 within itself, we really assert it to be God. * * When 
 you go one step beyond the mundane system, you only excite 
 an inquisitive humor which it is impossible ever to satisfy. 
 
 " To say that the different ideas which compose the reason of 
 the Supreme Being, fall into order of themselves, and by their 
 own nature, is really to talk without any precise meaning. If 
 it has a meaning, I would fain know why it is not as good sense 
 to say that the parts of the material world fall into order of 
 themselves and by their own nature. Can the one opinion be 
 intelligible, while the other is not so? * * * 
 
 " An ideal system arranged of itself, without a precedent 
 design, is not a whit more explicable than a material one, w r hich 
 attains its order in a like manner; nor is there any more diffi- 
 culty in the latter supposition than in the former." * * . * 
 
 " Why should we think that order is more essential to one 
 than the other? And if it requires a cause in both, what do we 
 gain by a system which traces the universe of objects into a 
 similar universe of ideas? The first step which we take leads 
 us on forever. It were, therefore, wise in us to limit all our 
 inquiries to the present world, without going further. No satis- 
 faction can ever be attained by these speculations, which so far 
 exceed the narrow bounds of human understanding." 
 
 This shows those who assert that because there is a material 
 universe there must previously have been an ideal one, how 
 groundless are their reasons for such an assertion. Let them, 
 then, simply and candidly acknowledge that they know nothing 
 at all about any such intelligence, or ideal world. 
 
 Let them also always remember that it is not a greater mys- 
 tery that matter should produce mind, than that mind should 
 produce matter. 
 
 My Guide at the crater of Kilauea was mad because I would 
 not throw my 'lunch' into the lake of red-hot lava to feed the 
 Goddess Pele; and we are often not much better treated by 
 those who dub themselves Christians, if we do not accept their 
 god, and throw our dinners to their self-anointed I^HT* " divines "! 
 
 John Stuart Mill truly says : "It is impossible to ascribe 
 
20 
 
 absolute perfection to the author and ruler of so clumsily-made 
 and capriciously-governed a creation as this planet and the life 
 of its inhabitants"; and affirms, that "Not even on the most 
 distorted and contracted theory of good, which ever was 
 framed by religious or philosophical fanaticism, can the gov- 
 ernment of nature be made to resemble the work of a Being at 
 once good and omnipotent" 
 
 Of course, if there had been any creator who was both good 
 and omnipotent, he could just as easily — and doubtless would — 
 have created a world in which only happiness should dwell. 
 
 David Hume, reasoning on the supposition that a Deity 
 exists, asks, how can you assert the moral attributes of the 
 Deity, his justice, benevolence, mercy and rectitude, to be of 
 the same nature with these virtues in human creatures? Allow- 
 ing his power to be infinite, whatever he wills is executed: but 
 neither man nor any other animal is happy: therefore he does 
 not will their happiness. Admitting his wisdom to be infinite, 
 he is never mistaken in choosing the means to an end: but the 
 course of Nature tends not to human or animal felicity; there- 
 fore it is not established for that purpose. Through the whole 
 compass of human knowledge, there are no inferences more 
 certain and infallible than these. In what respect, then, do his 
 benevolence and mercy resemble the benevolence and mercy of 
 men? 
 
 Epicurus's old questions are yet unanswered: 
 
 Is he willing to prevent evil, but not able? 
 
 Then is he impotent. 
 
 Is he able, but not willing ? 
 
 Then is he malevolent. 
 
 Is he both able and willing ? 
 
 Whence, then, is evil ? 
 
 How absurd, then, to believe that such a god exists. Can 
 any reasoning, or reasonable man believe in a god who was 
 entirely able to prevent evil, and who wished to do so, but who, 
 instead of doing so, produced such a world of toiling and des- 
 pairing victims ? I venture to say that no scientific, philosoph- 
 ical reasoner believes such an absurdity. 
 
 " The order and energy of the universe, I hold to be inherent, 
 and not imposed from without; the expression of fixed law r , and 
 not of arbitrary will, exercised by what Carlyle would call an 
 almighty clockmaker." — Tyndall. 
 
 " Anthopomorphism will, however, never be obliterated from 
 the ideas of the unintellectual. Their god, at best, will never 
 be anything more than the gigantic shadow of a man — a vast 
 phantom of humanity — like one of those Alpine spectres seen 
 in the midst of the clouds by him who turns his back on the 
 
21 
 
 It is obvious to us all that Nature is the rnly God or God- 
 dess that our experience has given us any kn jwledge of. If the 
 god that many people have imagined to exist is somewhere, oc- 
 cupying some space, he must have some shape ; if he is every- 
 where, occupying all space, he must be everything. Why not, 
 then, suppose him to actually be everything? and have the 
 shape of everything? — that is, to be simply Nature? The best 
 way, then, is to discard those old heathenish myths — devils and 
 gods, ghosts and souls — altogether, as exploded hypotheses; 
 and let our dear mother Nature have the supremacy in our 
 hearts. " Beyond Nature we cannot go, even in thought — 
 above Nature we cannot rise — below Nature we cannot sink." 
 We are her children, and she has exhaustless wonders and 
 beauties for us. We cannot love her too much; we cannot 
 study her too much; and by simply adhering to the facts which 
 she teaches, we shall have a scientific foundation for our opin- 
 ions. Another advantage, which should be by no means ig- 
 nored, although a negative one, is, that we shall no longer be 
 swindled by these self-anointed (giT* " divines"! Freed from 
 false superstitions, our minds will be in a far better condition 
 for the reception of scientific truth. 
 
 But is not truth dangerous ? We must shut our lips, and not 
 even whisper it ! That, Gentlemen and Ladies, is priestcraft. 
 " Out upon your guarded lips !" exclaims Emerson, " sew them 
 up with pack-thread, do. Else, if you would be a man, speak 
 what you think to-day in words as hard as cannon balls, and to- 
 morrow speak what to-morrow thinks, in hard words again, 
 though it contradict everything you said to-day. A foolish con- 
 sistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little states- 
 men, and philosophers, and divines. With consistency a great 
 soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern him- 
 self with his shadow on the wall. * * * 'Ah! then,' ex- 
 claim the aged ladies, 'you shall be sure to be misunderstood.' 
 Misunderstood! It is a right fool's word. Is it so bad, then, to 
 be misunderstood ? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Soc- 
 rates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and 
 Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. 
 To be great is to be misunderstood. * '" * If you can love 
 me for what 1 am, we shall be the happier. If you cannot, I 
 will seek to deserve that you should. I must be myself. I will 
 so trust that what is deep is holy, that I will do strongly before 
 the sun and moon whatever inly rejoices me, and the heart ap- 
 points." 
 
 I trust, then, my hearers, that when you are looking for 
 Truth, you will have nothing to do with fear. In this investi- 
 gation I am trying to see what are the Facts. I am not at 
 present discussing the question whether, if I follow the truth, 
 
22 
 
 there will be a universal thaw and dissolution: even if I knew 
 there would be, I would not teach what 1 believe to be false. 
 Let the paid preachers do the lying. How the brazen-faced 
 hypocrites can stand up and tell poor feeble-minded people that 
 they know what God wants! — that they know one of God's plans/ 
 Astonishing impudence / " It is not permitted to enter the 
 presence of the Creator Himself, so as to trace His conduct, 
 and examine His actions," says Newton Crossland. But do 
 the liars really pretend to know a plan of an Infinite God's f 
 Yes, it is even true! — the hypocrites do not flinch! — they do not 
 blush crimson!— although each one is conscious that he knows 
 absolutely nothing at all concerning " God 's plan of salvation "/ 
 — that he knows no more about God than do the feeblest of the 
 feeble-minded men and women, out of whose trembling fears 
 he is swindling his living. However incredible it may seem, 
 these self-anointed [glF" '" divines " / will continue to do this as 
 long as you give them your gold. 
 
 The German philosopher Heine says : " The ffaffen" 
 (pfrffe is a sort of generic and contemptuous term for any sort 
 of clergyman,) " fear God less than other men do — they use 
 him for their own purposes. Like showmen at a fair, they ex- 
 hibit God for money. They extol him with absurd panegyrics, 
 blow a trumpet to glorify him, wear a smart uniform in his 
 honor, and all the time despise in their heart the poor, credidous, 
 staring mob/' 
 
 Flow cheering it is to turn to a. brighter character. How 
 much nobler seems the sentiment of that grand old Gascon — 
 Michael de Montaigne. "I stand here," says he, "for Truth. I 
 will not for all the reputation, and wealth, and honors of Europe, 
 overstate the dry fact as I see it." When an honest scientific 
 man is following truth, he is not to be deterred by the cow- 
 ardly cry that truth is dangerous. His onlv question is, " Is 
 this Truth ? " 
 
 " There is no method of reasoning," says Hume, " more 
 common, and yet none more blamable, than, in philosophical 
 disputes, to endeavor the refutation of any hypothesis, by a pre- 
 tence of its dangerous consequences to religion and morality. 
 When any opinion leads to absurdity, it is certainly false ; but 
 it is not certain that an opinion is false because it is of dangerous 
 consequence. Such topics, therefore, ought entirely to be for- 
 borne, as serving nothing to the discovery of truth." 
 
 Some think it dangerous to teach the young the truth on reli- 
 gious subjects : but if they are not told the truth, they will be led 
 into falsehoods. Surely some counterpoise of truth is needed to 
 shield them from the falsehoods taught in churches. I do not 
 believe that truth is more dangerous for chem than falsehood. I 
 wish the young as well as the old to have the exact truth, and 
 
23 
 
 the whole truth, if there be any such thing. It is a great weak- 
 ness to be afraid of it. 
 
 But perhaps the weakest trait in the character of human be- 
 ings is their disposition to believe, without any evidence whateverl 
 that they are going to live after they are dead. We are not 
 inclined to this irrational belief in the case of other animals 
 when they die. We see all their carcasses decompose, and feel 
 perfectly satisfied that they are absolutely dead. They are not to 
 have blue wings to their shoulders : the man would be regarded 
 as almost insane who should think so. Well, we have precisely 
 the same evidence when a man dies, that he is absolutely dead : 
 we see his carcass decompose in the same way ; still there are 
 those who will assert, without the slightest evidence of the fact, 
 that the dead man is still alive ! living somewhere else ! Is not 
 this equally absurd ? equally insane ? Has he not obeyed the 
 great law of Nature — viz : death — like the others ? Certainly. 
 Is there any evidence that his case is different from the others ? 
 Not any at all. Why, then, are the ignorant taught that he is 
 still alive ? 
 
 Unfortunately for truth, hypocrites can fatten on falsehood. 
 There is a class of them who make a fat living by teaching what 
 they do not know to be true. They are well aware of the effect 
 of outside appearances, and dress in solemn black. 
 
 " These black-coats are the only persons of my acquaintance 
 who resemble the chameleon, in being able to keep one eye di- 
 rected upwards to heaven and the other downwards to the good 
 things of this world." Alexander von Humboldt. 
 
 When a person dies these black-coats hasten, like buzzards,, 
 to the carcass, and cunningly contrive to make some profit out 
 of the distressed feelings of the mourners. One of them stands 
 up, and, with a solemn face, affirms that the dead man — for- 
 sooth — is still alive ! living somewhere above the stars ! and 
 this astonishing affirmation he makes, although, at that very 
 time, perfectly conscious that he knows no more about it than a. 
 braying jackass does ! — that he knows nothing at all about it ; 
 and, ere long, this [gp^ " divineV most devoutly pockets the cash 
 for so affirming. This he is enabled to do through the weak- 
 ness of the poor ignorant people who believe his groundless and 
 hypocritical assertions. In the midst of all this braying — pray- 
 ing forsooth ! — the corpse lies perfectly rigid and still. The 
 man is dead. 
 
 " There exists a phrase repeated ad nauseam, of ' mortal body 
 and immortal spirit.' A closer examination causes us, with 
 more truth, to reverse the sentence. The body is certainly 
 mortal in its own individual form, but not in its constituents. It 
 changes not merely in death, but also during life ; however, in. 
 
2 4 
 
 a higher sense, it is immortal, since the smallest particle of which 
 it is composed cannot be destroyed. On the contrary, that 
 which we call " spirit " disappears with the dissolution of the 
 individual material combination ; and it must appear to any un- 
 prejudiced intellect as if the concurrent action of many particles 
 of matter had -produced any effect which ceases with the cause." 
 
 BUCHNER. 
 
 " Though," says Fechner, " we are not annihilated by death, 
 we cannot save from death our previous mode of existence. We 
 return visibly to the earth from which we were taken." 
 
 " Nature, the all-engendering, and all-devouring, is its own 
 beginning and end, birth and death. She produced man by her 
 own power and takes him again." Buchner. 
 
 " Nothing in this world is perpetual; everything, however 
 seemingly firm, is in continual flux and change; the world itselt 
 gives symptoms of frailty and dissolution. How contrary to 
 antilogy, therefore, to imagine that one single form, seeming the 
 frailest of any, and subject to the greatest disorders, is immortal 
 and indissoluble? What theory is that! how lightly, not to say 
 how rashly, entertained!" David Hume. 
 
 No wonder at Victor Hugo's scathing satire; no wonder he 
 should convulse the French with laughter. "Immortality!" 
 exclaims he. " We are to become angels with blue wings to 
 our shoulders! Tell me now, isn't it Tertullian who says that 
 the blessed will go from one star to another? Well, we shall 
 be the grasshoppers of the skies! and then we shall see God! 
 Tut, tut, tut. * * * Legends and chimeras are given the 
 ignorant to swallow about the soul, immortality, paradise, and 
 the stars. They munch that: they spread it on their dry bread. 
 He who has nothing besides has the good god — that is the least 
 good he can have." So says Victor Hugo. But the calamitous 
 fact connected with these chimeras is, that by means of them 
 the poor are swindled out of their hard-earned dollars — are 
 forced to eat " dry bread." For the sake of these Will-o-the- 
 wisps — these legends and chimeras about immortality and par- 
 adise — they are persuaded, most dishonestly ! to part with their 
 solid gold and their solid silver. These are by no means Will- 
 o-the-wisps, but realities, which they have most anxiously and 
 most laboriously earned by the sweat of their brows. The 
 swindling peddlers of the " plan of salvation " crave that gold 
 and that silver. They want their deluded victims to give to 
 them — these ^^T 3 "divines" ! — their heaven here and now — 
 cash in hand — and for it, promise the poor man his heaven after 
 he is dead! 
 
 It pains my heart to see the feeble in intellect thus swindled. 
 It seems to me that it would be far better for poor people to 
 give their gold and their silver for a little butter, or a little 
 
2 5 
 
 honey, to spread on their dry bread; or for a little meat to eat 
 with it; and a far better" plan of salvation" for these self- 
 anointed Ipgp' " divines " / not to live at the expense of poor, 
 laboring people; but goto work themselves and honestly earn 
 a little butter, and a little honey, and a little meat to eat with 
 some kind of bread which they have not swindled from the 
 poor. This \s, a scientific "plan of salvation; " this is some- 
 thing incomparably more important than "religion" ! this is 
 HUMANITY. 
 
 Is there no way to convert these [SIT* " divines" ! to this new 
 religion of HUMANITY? Yes; I can tell you an effectual 
 method. There is one way, and there is only one way. It is 
 this: — Stop giving them your gold; stop giving them your silver; 
 stop giving the swindlers your butter, and your honey, and your 
 chickens, and your bread. Stop doing this, and they will at 
 once begin to work — "to work out their salvation with fear and 
 trembling." These [glf " divines "/ have been bawling at us all 
 our lives " to work out our salvation with fear and trembling." 
 Now let these parasitical blood-suckers " work out their salva- 
 tion with fear and trembling." If you stop paying them for ly- 
 ing, they will see the necessity of going to work, and like other 
 people, try to make an honest living. This is the " plan of sal- 
 vation"! Let these l^T* " divines "/ become converts to this 
 religion, and the children of the poor will no longer have to 
 knock off their toe-nails to catch chickens for them. This will 
 indeed be a salvation. Salvation by this religion reaches even to 
 the very toe-nails! 
 
 Perhaps there has rarely been a finer literary critic in Europe 
 than M. Sainte Beuve. In a letter, speaking of the state of 
 public opinion on religious questions in France, he says: 
 
 " Groan over it or not, as we may, Faith has disappeared. 
 Science, let people say what they please, has destroyed it. It is 
 absolutely impossible for vigorous, sensible minds, conversant 
 with history, armed with criticism, studious of the natural sci- 
 ences; any longer, to believe in old stories and old bibles. 
 * * * We must march firmly on toward an order of 
 reasonable, probable, corrected ideas, which beget conviction 
 instead of belief, and which, while leaving to the vestiges of 
 neighboring creeds all liberty and security, prepares in all new 
 and robust minds a support for the future. Morality and justice 
 are slowly forming on a new basis, not less solid than the old 
 basis; more solid than it, because there shall enter it none of the 
 puerile fears of infancy. So let us, men and women, cease to be 
 children as soon as possible: this will be a hard task to a great 
 many women — and to a great many men, too. But in the pres- 
 ent state of society, herein, and nowhere else, lie the safety 
 and virility of nations." 
 
26 
 
 This being so, Ladies and Gentlemen, let our religion hence- 
 forth be the religion of Science. Let us investigate for our- 
 selves until we find solid ground on which to rest; and not be 
 fooled, like our ancestors, with fables and hobgoblins. When 
 we can find no solid ground on which to rest, let us simply, and 
 honestly, and bravely, acknowledge our ignorance. Let us 
 simply say — " 1 [do not know." 
 
 The clergy charge people with infidelity. " I for one," says 
 David Page, " reply that I regard it as a senseless accusation. 
 If it were true, it is nothing that calls for defence, or needs any 
 vindication. It is neither a fault nor a virtue in itself. Belief or dis- 
 belief are, of course, mere results of evidence, or of the lack of it." 
 
 The Mahomedans call the Christians infidels; and the Christ- 
 ians call the Mahomedans infidels; but the truth is, as David 
 Page, says, " there is no scepticism so offensive as that which 
 doubts the facts of honest and careful observation; no infidelity 
 so gross as that which disbelieves the deductions of competent 
 and unbiased judgments." 
 
 The world is sick unto death with pretenders to knowledge; 
 and more especially with these pretenders to divine knowledge! 
 — these quacks in religion ; and would gladly get rid of both 
 them and their falsehoods. When we don't know, pray let us, 
 with the simplicity of childhood, say, "we don't know." I 
 have already in this lecture pointed out many instances of my 
 ignorance — many things which I do not know. Of course there 
 are multitudes of others that cannot be pointed out, for want of 
 room. Some time ago an old lady had some curiously colored 
 seeds in her hand, and I said, " Madam, what are those ? " 
 " Why!" says she, " they're beans." " Oh, yes! Madam," said 
 I, " sure enough, I don't know beans!" 
 
 Practical men, so called, or men whose whole lives are devoted 
 to making a pile of the yellow dirt called gold, often consider 
 literary men, or thinkers, as mere dreamers. Very well, they 
 are dreamers : but what does the practical man know? 
 
 " The thoroughly practical man knows the world as a mite 
 knows cheese. The mite is born in cheese, lives in cheese, be- 
 holds cheese; if he thinks at all, his thoughts are of cheese. 
 Tne cheese press, curds and whey, the frothy pail, the milk-maid, 
 cow and pasture, enter not the mite's imagination at all. If any 
 one were to ask him: " Why the world? " he would certainly 
 answer: " Because cheese: " and when he is eaten by mistake, 
 he tastes so thoroughly of cheese that the event remains unnotic- 
 ed; and his infinitesimal identity becomes absorbed in the general 
 digestion of caseine matter, without comment of the consumer." 
 
 Ask the thoroughly practical man why he lives in this world? 
 and you will soon learn that his answer is "Because GOLD!" 
 
27 
 
 Is the mite ignorant? So is the greatest thinker. He can no 
 more fathom the universe. He is, as a mite in cheese. 
 
 I think now, Ladies and Gentlemen, I have said enough to 
 satisfy you that I am indeed an ignorant man. I say this 
 with all honesty and sincerity. I must exclaim with Pascal: 
 " I am in terrible ignorance of all things!" 
 
 It seems almost impossible to open the lips without mak- 
 ing some kind of contradiction; and it seems more especially 
 difficult for me when using words which heretofore have been 
 assumed as denoting realities, like the words "I" and " you," 
 when it appears there is no certain knowledge that they do de- 
 note realities. I must assume that there is an " I," like every- 
 body else, although the fact that the " I " exists be totally un- 
 known and unknowable. Please remember, Gentlemen and 
 Ladies, that at the commencement of this lecture I warned you I 
 was a professor of ignorance: I think, therefore, my hearers 
 will feel much inclined to forbearance. The clown says: " I 
 know I am, and I know I think." The philosopher says: 
 " Thoughts exist, but we know nothing of the thinker. Noth- 
 ing is known of the ' I,' it is not even thinkable." If we can- 
 not even think of it, how is it possible to know that it exists ? 
 Consequently the philosopher cannot say as the clown does: 
 " I know 1 am." If the existence of the ' I ' is uncertain, how 
 absurd to say: " I know. " 
 
 Perhaps, Ladies and Gentlemen, you would be no little aston- 
 ished, if the best friend you have, and the most intelligent, 
 should inform you that you did not know that you existed; and 
 perhaps I may have been preparing for some of you a surprise. 
 
 Gentlemen and Ladies: Do you indeed know that you exist? 
 
 Of course there may be the thought or belie/ that you exist; 
 but this is not a question of belief: it is a question of absolute 
 knowledge. We have already in a former part of this lecture 
 considered the question as to any absolute knowledge of the 
 existence of matter, or body; and have seen that the brightest 
 intellects, and deepest thinkers of Europe and America concur 
 in saying we cannot know that it exists. If, as Professor Huxley 
 says: " It is an indisputable truth that what we call the mate- 
 rial world is only known to us under the forms of the ideal world," 
 no absolute knowledge of body can exist. Moreover, you do 
 not consider your body, even if it does exist, to be you. If then 
 you now say: "I know that I exist," please turn your 
 thoughts inward, and see if you can tell me what the " I " is, 
 that exists ? You find thoughts, you say, for one thing. Very 
 well, all right: there are thoughts. What else? " There are, 
 sensations; for another thing: Seeing, hearing, feeling, tastin g 
 and smelling are sensations." All right, again. There are 
 
28 
 
 noughts, and there are sensations. We need not stop to re- 
 gard the question whether sensations are, or are not, thoughts. 
 What else can you rind in yourself? Examine closely. Come 
 — I will give you a little time to examine. * * * * 
 
 * * * * * tt -X" * * * # X 
 
 Is there nothing else ? Can you really discover nothing else? 
 No, I can discover nothing else. Can you not find that little im- 
 portant personage " I," that is supposed to do the thinking? 
 No, I cannot find him. Can you even think of the " 1 " ? 
 No, I cannot. Well then you do not know that it exists; do 
 you? No, I believe not. What is the sum total, then, that 
 you know does exist ? Answer. Thoughts and sensations. 
 Very well. Then when I ask you, "Ladies and gentlemen: 
 Is there any certain knowledge that you exist ? — if by the you is 
 meant anything more than thoughts and sensations, is not this 
 the answer ? No, there is no certain knowledge that we exist. 
 
 We are forced, therefore, to assume the existence of the " 1," 
 before we can say " I know." If I say, " I know nothing," I 
 am assuming that I know that—1 am contradicting myself; for, 
 if we do not know that the "I" exists, we cannot know that 
 the " I " knows anything ! 
 
 Often and vainly has this demand been made, viz: " What 
 is Truth ? " 
 
 No one has given a satisfactory answer. 
 
 I know of nothing more impressive in the history of Grecian 
 philosophy than the plaintive acknowledgment of their ignor- 
 ance by those grand old Greeks. 
 
 Anaxagoras most plaintively exclaims: — "Nothing can be 
 known, nothing can be learned, nothing can be certain; sense is 
 limited, intellect is weak, life is short." 
 
 Xenophanes tells us that it is impossible for us to be certain, 
 even when we utter the truth. 
 
 Parmenides declares that the very constitution of man pre- 
 vents him from ascertaining absolute truth. 
 
 Pyrrho bids us reflect on the necessity of suspending our 
 judgment of things, since we have no criterion of truth; so 
 deep a distrust did he impart to his followers, that they were in 
 the habit of saying: " We assert nothing; no, not even that 
 we assert nothing." 
 
 Arcesilaus, denying both intellectual and sensuous knowledge, 
 publicly avowed that he knew nothing, not even his own igno- 
 rance ! 
 
 And among the moderns, Fraser says: "The only convic- 
 tion which the student of the history of human speculation 
 can regard as necessary, is the conviction of our hopeless igno- 
 rance of all the mysteries of existence. Truth is hid in dark- 
 
2 9 
 
 ness. It is not that we are unable to divine the mysteries of 
 the soul and God ; the simplest phenomenon of sense defies our wit" 
 
 David Hume — " whom," says Professor Huxley, " I make 
 bold to term the most acute thinker of the eighteenth century 
 — even though that century produced Kant " — even Hume, 
 finding that different chains of reasoning led to apparently con- 
 tradictory conclusions, was forced to exclaim: " We have, 
 therefore, no choice left but betwixt a false reason and none at 
 all. For my part I know not what ought to be done in the 
 present case." * * * * The intense 
 
 view of these manifold contradictions and imperfections in hu- 
 man reason has so wrought upon me, and heated my brain, 
 that I am ready to reject all belief and reasoning, and can look 
 upon no opinion even as more probable or likely than any 
 other. Where am I? or what?" 
 
 How profoundly this most sensible, most excellent man — 
 David Hume — felt his sad state of ignorance. Alas! this 
 genius — this most towering intellect of the eighteenth century — 
 could only exclaim, like Pascal: — 
 
 " Where am I ? or what ?" 
 
 Alas ! alas ! Where are, we ? or what ? 
 
 LOST ! without a ray of light — without a thread tc guide — 
 in a labyrinth of contradictions: 
 
 LOST ! in this vast desert, where no one can tell the waters 
 of life from a mirage: 
 
 LOST ! in a tangled wilderness, where none but the unin- 
 tellectual assert and shout — "I know !": 
 
 LOST ! in the gloom of Cimmeria, where no one can tell 
 where his head is; which exists only in space, which itself, (for 
 aught anything the brightest intellects of the world know to the 
 contrary^) exists only in his head — that is, in this meteor- 
 thought — gone! ere you can say, "it is here": 
 
 LOST ! in a shadow-world of images, where naught is ev- 
 erything, and everything is naught: 
 
 LOST ! among sepulchres, in avast universe of sepulchres, 
 whether real or ideal, whose very dust has vanished: 
 
 Alas ! alas ! groping without eyes in this Mammoth Cave: 
 
 LOST/ even from one's self! — the "I" being utterly un- 
 known : 
 
 LOST 7 in the pitchy darkness ot 
 
 HUMAN IGNORANCE. 
 
3° 
 
 Gentlemen and Ladies: 
 
 Assuming, then, in this profound darkness, the existence of 
 those utterly unknown beings called " You," and " I," have I 
 not in this lecture shown you that we are all amazingly igno- 
 rant ? Was I not right in saying, at the commencement of this 
 lecture, that we are all in profound ignorance of the condition 
 of existence of the human being ? and also right in asking the 
 question: "Is there not a still profounder ignorance, which 
 comes still nearer home? viz: a profound ignorance of our ig- 
 norance ? Did I not properly call myself — Professor of Igno- 
 rance ? 
 
 My task is done. 
 
 Is the prospect ahead then very dark ? Yes; the prospect 
 ahead is very dark; but we did not make ourselves; we did 
 not make the darkness; we did not make our ignorance. 
 WE ! are not responsible. 
 
 Is there then no light ? 
 
 Look at these names, which shine like fire-flies in the dark- 
 ness: 
 
 BERKLEY. 
 
 BUCKLE. 
 
 CARLYLE. 
 
 DARWIN. 
 
 DRAPER. 
 
 EMERSON. 
 
 FICHTE. 
 
 GIBBON. 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 HAECKEL. 
 
 HUMBOLDT 
 
 HUME. 
 
 HUXLEY. 
 
 KANT. 
 
 MILL. 
 
 PAINE. 
 
 PASCAL. 
 
 SPENCER. 
 
 SPINOZA. 
 
 THOREAU. 
 
 TYNDALL. 
 
 VOLNEY. 
 
 MONTAIGNE. VOLTAIRE. 
 
 Their very names form a most brilliant galaxy. They spar- 
 kle with far more lustre than richest diamonds. They gladden 
 the hearts of all who are really intellectual — of all who find in 
 science a pure religion. These writers will cheer you on your 
 journey. Then we have the Poets: and I will say — maugre the 
 imbeciles who turn up their noses with horror — we have the 
 masculine fibre of WALT WHITMAN and SWINBURNE. 
 
3 1 
 
 How sublime Lord Byron becomes when speaking of our 
 ignorance: 
 
 " Between two worlds life glitters like a star, 
 
 'Twixt night and morn upon the horizon's verge. 
 
 How little do we know that which we are ; 
 
 How less what we may be. The eternal surge 
 
 Of time and tide rolls on and bears afar 
 
 Our bubbles : as the old burst, new emerge, 
 
 Lashed from the foam of ages; while the graves 
 
 Of empires heave but like some passing waves." 
 
 To cheer us on our solemn march to our own graves, I have 
 never seen anything finer than Theodore Carpenter's little po- 
 em, entitled: 
 
 DEATH GIVES US MORE THAN LIFE."— Stray Poem. 
 
 Aye more ; it gives repose 
 Sweeter than any life can e'er impart : 
 Vast depth of peace, where every burdened heart 
 
 At length will lose its woes. • 
 
 I love not any creed 
 That prates of deathless life beyond the sun. 
 Enough of life when these poor years are done : 
 
 I would have rest indeed. 
 
 I know my prison-bars : 
 I build no toppling towers on shifting sands ; 
 I reach not upward with decaying hands 
 
 To grasp the lofty stars. 
 
 The lowly grave is dear, 
 And has no terrors ; it is free from pain ; 
 Its couch is downy ; and no secret bane 
 
 Wrings the regretful tear. 
 
 And life — its wild uproar, 
 Its fruitless hopes, its withered, blighted days, 
 Its hours of anguish, turn the fainting gaze 
 
 Toward the " voiceless shore." Theo. CARPENTER. 
 
 With your permission, Gentlemen and Ladies, I will close 
 this lecture by repeating a very short poem, which I think is as 
 remarkable for its sweet simplicity, as for its uncommon pathos 
 and depth. I know not the author; but it must have been 
 written by an old man who had fully realized the nothingness 
 of life. No young man could have written it. It is indeed a 
 sweet, sad poem, Its title is: 
 
" BY THE RIVER." 
 
 " I am sitting alone by the river, 
 
 And the willows arc sweeping its brink; 
 The shadows of twilight are falling, 
 
 And I sit by the river and think. 
 
 The shadows of the twilight grow deeper; 
 
 The river is fading from sight; 
 I can see the gray willows no longer, 
 
 And I am alone with the night. 
 
 In darkness and gloom, noble river, 
 
 Thou art noiselessly floating away; 
 In darkness and gloom /am floating, 
 
 And whither, O say ! do I stray ? 
 
 The learning of Plato and Pascal 
 
 Is madly at work in my brain ; 
 I am satisfied about nothing, — 
 
 I feel and I reason in vain. 
 
 Does justice exist? Oh, where is it? 
 
 Still the heart of the tyrant is stone, 
 Still his victims are toiling, despairing; 
 
 Still he heeds not, he hears not, their moail. 
 
 'Tis vain that you tell me, hereafter 
 
 These things are not to be so ; 
 We are only able to reason 
 
 From that which we see and we know. 
 
 For centuries long have the curses 
 
 Of the heart-broken pierced to the skies ; 
 For centuries long has no answer 
 
 Returned to their desolate cries. 
 
 If I call upon Nature for comfort, 
 
 It is silent and grim as the grave ; 
 The winds will not stop at my question — 
 
 No reply from the long-sounding wave. 
 
 And the stars, as they glitter above me, 
 
 Pure and calm as the flakes of the snow 
 Look as cold on the sorrows of mortals 
 
 As they looked in the years long ago. 
 
 I am sitting alone by the river, 
 
 And the willows are sweeping its brink; 
 The twilight has deepened to midnight, 
 
 And I sit by the river and think." 
 
 This is the poem. On account of my seventy years, I add 
 this one verse : 
 
 Soon — I sit not alone by the river : 
 
 Soon the willows decay on its brink : 
 
 E'en this twilight of thought proves but darkness, 
 As we float down life's river, and $3rSf2V&/ 
 
.y