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             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

                           CHAPTER 10.

                  THE PHILOSOPHICAL FOUNDATION
                      UPON WHICH HE STOOD.

     Before attempting an estimate of those views the dissemination
of which constituted the life-work of Ingersoll, let us carefully
and candidly examine the foundation upon which he stood. Let us
ascertain, if possible, whether, of frail and flimsy fancy, it
rests on the sands of sophistry, or whether, hewn by logic from the
granite of intellect, it lies deep and unshakable in the hard-pan
of reason.

     There have been applied to Ingersoll numerous theological and
philosophical epithets and designations. He has been styled a
heretic, an unbeliever, a skeptic, a liberal, a rationalist, a
materialist, a Freethinker, an infidel, an iconoclast, a
disbeliever, an atheist, and an Agnostic. It is essential, to
rightful understanding and just appreciation of his opinions and
arguments, that we here determine which of these terms, if any,
have been applied to him with propriety, and which, if any, with
total impropriety, and that we define such of them, in connection
with their proper application to him, as are frequently
misunderstood.

     Now, all who are tolerably familiar alike with the English
language and the tendency of Ingersoll's thought will agree that,
as concerns Christianity and the other alleged supernatural
religions he was a heretic, an unbeliever, a skeptic, a liberal and
a rationalist, using those words in their generally accepted sense;
that he was a materialist using that word in its generic
philosophical sense; and that he was a Freethinker and an infidel,
using those words minus, of course, their usual odium theologicum.

     Leaving the application of the term "iconoclast" to be
considered in a later chapter, let us next ascertain whether
Ingersoll was a "disbeliever." Briefly, a disbeliever, according to
dictionaries and theologians, is one who refuses to believe. Of
course, it would be just as reasonable to speak of one's refusing
to like a certain article of food, for example, as to speak of
one's refusing to believe a certain thing. Both belief and unbelief
unavoidably result from the consideration of testimony. If in the
testimony there is sufficient evidence, the reason accepts, and
belief results; if in the testimony there is insufficient evidence,
the reason does not accept, and unbelief results. The will is not
a factor in the process. In the vocabulary of the really
intelligent, there is no such word as "disbeliever," in the
theological sense. Ingersoll, therefore, was not a disbeliever.

     This brings us to the terms "atheist" and "Agnostic." Numerous
well-meaning individuals, many of them sincere admirers of
Ingersoll, have attempted to rescue his memory from the theological
abyss of unbelief by saying that he did not deny, that he only
failed to believe. They have strongly emphasized the assertion that
he was not an atheist, that he was merely an Agnostic. What would
they think if they knew that Ingersoll himself declared the beliefs
of the atheist and the Agnostic to be the same? But let us see for
ourselves. A theist is one who believes in the existence of God. An 
atheist, the opposite of the theist, is one who does not believe in
the existence of God. Ingersoll did not believe in the existence of
God. Ingersoll was therefore an atheist. "But," you will object,
"Ingersoll did not deny." True; but an atheist is not an atheist
because he denies: he is an atheist because he does not believe.
The atheist who denies, -- and there are such, -- may be a worse
philosopher, but he is not a better atheist. On the other hand, the
atheist who refrains from denying, on the ground that the nature
and the limitations of the human mind are such that he has, and can
have, no positive evidence on the subject, requires, in fairness,
and for the sake of philosophical accuracy, to be distinguished
alike from the atheist who does deny, and from the theist who
claims to know. Such an atheist was Ingersoll, -- "an agnostic-
atheist -- an atheist because an agnostic."

     An adequate knowledge of the intellectual foundation upon
which Ingersoll stood involves an understanding of the origin and
the more precise meaning and limitations of the latter word. In the
first century of our era, there arose in the Roman Empire,
simultaneously with what is now called Christianity, several widely
different sects whose members claimed to possess knowledge of the
being and the providence of God, and of the creation and the
destiny of man. Collectively known as Gnostics, they were not mere
believers, they were knowers.

     In 1869, in England, the Metaphysical Society was formed, with
Huxley as a member. Then in his forty-fourth year, he was not only
one of the most distinguished of scientists: he was master of
nearly everything of value in the realms of history and philosophy.
From the cradle, he had been a philosopher. When a mere boy, he had
read such works as Guizot's History of Civilization and Sir William
Hamilton's essay On the Philosophy of the Unconditioned. In the
fertile fields of thought, he had toiled with all the ardor that
youth can know, and though the autumn's mellowing days were yet to
come, he already stood among the golden sheaves, and watched the
purpling grapes. With all, and above all, he was mentally veracious
-- honest with himself and others -- absolutely faithful to his
ideal of truth. Upon his thoughtful brow, Candor, with firm and
fearless hand, had placed a wreath; and the more Huxley thought,
the greener it grew.

     The Metaphysical Society numbered among its members many other
able and variously distinguished men, including Tennyson, Tyndall,
Clifford, Sidgwick, Carpenter, Ruskin, Gladstone, the Duke of
Argyll, Harrison, Morley, and Stephen. Like the "secular leagues"
and "liberal clubs" of America to-day, it was, as Huxley himself
described it, a "confraternity of antagonists." There were theists,
pantheists, atheists, idealists of all shades, materialists,
Freethinkers, and Christians. Like the Gnostics of old, they were
not mere believers, they were knowers.

     Huxley, the intellectual chemist, examined one by one the
divers specimens which these modern Gnostics placed in the crucible
of his brain, and he found that they were all "unknowns." He could
not make even a qualitative analysis. That which to the theist or
the dogmatic atheist or the idealist was pure gold was, to Huxley,
evidently a compound of many inferior elements. Just what those
elements were, how united, and in what proportions, he could not 
say. Far from having revealed any new truth, his analyses,
conducted with all the acumen and candor of which he was capable,
had developed this solitary fact, that, except his being a
Freethinker, he was philosophically unlike every other member of
the Metaphysical Society. But he did not become egotistic and vain,
and, after the manner of the Pharisee, give thanks that he was not
as other men. Rather did he regret his unlikeness to them -- the
unique loneliness of his position. Indeed, in at least one respect,
he longed to resemble his fellows -- to have a name. He saw that,
while the minds of those about him were clad in gorgeous robes, the
warp and woof of which had been wrought in the loom of theological
tradition and metaphysical fancy, he was "without a rag" to cover
the nakedness of his candor. And so he became meditative,
introspective, -- began to contemplate himself and his associates.
He perceived that they "had attained a certain 'gnosis,'" and that,
consequently, they were his exact opposites, like the Gnostics. He
therefore concluded that he was an "Agnostic," and that the
application of his principle, or method, in the ascertainment of
truth was "Agnosticism." He says: --

     "Positively the principle may be expressed: In matters of the
intellect, follow your reason as far as it will take you, without
regard to any other consideration. And negatively: In matters of
the intellect, do not pretend that conclusions are certain which
are not demonstrated or demonstrable." [From Science and Christian
Tradition. Essays by Thomas Huxley.]

     Thus was coined, and thus is defined, Agnosticism, -- one of
the most useful, one of the most universal, one of the noblest
words that ever fell from human lips. Its birth was one of the
really important and significant events of the nineteenth century.
It is one of the milestones on the mental highway. It means honest
intelligence -- candor wedded to intellect. It represents a great,
a sublime principle -- a method for avoiding mental mistakes. Says
Kant: --

     "The greatest and perhaps the sole use of all philosophy of
pure reason is, after all, merely negative, since it serves not as
an organon for the enlargement [of knowledge], but as a discipline
for its delimitation; and, instead of discovering truth, has only
the modest merit of preventing error."

     But Agnosticism, as is shown by my first quotation, from
Huxley, is as positive as it is negative. It represents the
psychological state in which one declines, or to he strictly
accurate, fails, to assent to, or to assert the truth of, a
proposition in the absence of sufficient evidence.

     Agnosticism is a Pasteur filter in the great stream of human
thought. The filtrate, that is, the clear and sparkling liquid
which passes through, is what we believe. The turbid slush, the
pathogenic sediment and scum which does not pass through, is what
we do not believe: we cast it out. Ingersoll had one of these
filters, and in its infinitesimal meshes he found all of the
theologies of mankind. But he did not either construct or select
the filter: it was given to him before he was born.
     Let us now go a little deeper; for we have not quite reached
the bed-rock of truth. Having shown how the word Agnosticism came
into use, what it means, and something of what it does not mean,
let us candidly try to ascertain whether it represents a mental
vanity, -- a principle existing in the immutable necessity of
things.

     We have what is called the science of metaphysics. It deals
with the contents and operations of mind, the so-called
metaphysical, in contradistinction to physics, which deals with
certain phases of substance and energy, -- matter in motion. This
sublime science of metaphysics originated far back among those
wonderful peoples who gave to us most of our present philosophy and
theology, including of course, Christianity, and to whom we have
given the title of "heathen." Many individuals, more especially
dogmatic materialistic Freethinkers, are wont to discredit the
science; but as Huxley wisely says: --

     "Sound metaphysics is an amulet which renders its possessor
proof alike against the poison of superstition and the counter-
poison of shallow negation; by showing that the affirmations of the
farmer and the denials of the latter alike deal with matters about
which, for lack of evidence, nothing can be either affirmed or
denied." [from Hume]

     Of course, a comprehensive consideration of the logical
relations of the agnostic principle to metaphysics would involve a
presentation of the relevant views of nearly all of the great
ancient and modern thinkers, including Xenophanes, Heraclitus,
Anaxagoras, Democritus, Protagoras, Aristotle, Parmenides, Pyrrho,
Epicurus, Arcesilaus, Bacon, and especially those of Descartes,
Locke, Berkeley, Hume, Kant, Hamilton, Mansel, Comte, Mill, Huxley,
Tyndall, and Spencer. But it is hoped that the immeasurably briefer
consideration of the relations just mentioned which space here
affords will not prove wholly inadequate.

     To realize the latter, -- to trace the agnostic principle to
its origin, -- it is necessary that we became oblivious of the
physical, or outer, world and enter, for a few moments, the world
of mind. Although it may seem egotistic, I shall here write in the
first person singular. I shall do this for the sake of simplicity
and perspicuity, if not from logical necessity, -- rather the
latter; for the attentive reader will presently perceive that I
could not consistently employ either the second or the third
person.

     Now, I examine my own mind, and I find that I know two things.
First, I know that I exist. How do I know this? Because "I
examine." How could I examine if I did not exist? In other words,
I am conscious; therefore, I exist -- "I think, hence I am."
Second, I perceive that my stream of consciousness is subject to
continuous interruptions, or changes; and these interruptions, or
changes, I call phenomena. Now, these two things, -- the perception
of my existence and the perception of phenomena, -- in other words,
these states of consciousness, or "psychoses," -- are what I know.
To put it more briefly still, I know phenomena. Above, below,
behind these phenomena, I cannot logically and honestly go. Whether
the multitudinous divergent phenomena manifest in my subjective
consciousness, through the five senses, are mere seemings; whether
they represent objective realities, and, if so, whether those
realities are different from, or greater or less than, the
phenomena themselves, I do not and can not know. Whether the paper
on which I write, my limbs, my body, are objective realities, and,
if so, whether they are precisely what they seem to be, I do not
and can not know. Why can I not know? Because everything concerning
them must reach my consciousness through one or more of the senses,
and be perceived as phenomena. Hence I am where I started. The
circle shows no break. Like Archimedes, my lever is without a
fulcrum. What then, shall be my attitude? Shall I either assent to
or deny the assertion of the idealist, that, back of subjective
phenomena, there is no objective reality, no material substance?
Shall I either assent to or deny the assertion of the dogmatic
materialist, that, back of subjective phenomena, there is an
objective reality, an eternal material substance which is the cause
of those phenomena? Shall I either assent to or deny the assertion
of the theist, that back of subjective phenomena is God, their
"Great First Cause"? What shall be my attitude? "Whoso has mastered
the elements of philosophy knows that the attribute of
unquestionable certainty appertains only to the existence of a
state of consciousness so long as it exists; * * *." "For any
demonstration that can be given to the contrary effect, the
`collection of perceptions' which makes up our consciousness may be
an orderly phantasmagoria generated by the Ego, unfolding its
successive scenes on the background of the abyss of nothingness; as
a firework, which is but cunningly arranged combustibles, grows
from a spark into a coruscation, and from a coruscation into
figures, and words, and cascades of devouring fire, and then
vanishes into the darkness of the night.

     "On the other hand, it must no less readily be allowed that,
for anything that can be proved to the contrary, there may be a
real something which is the cause of all our impressions; that
sensations, though not likenesses, are symbols of that something;
and that the part of that something, which we call the nervous
system, is an apparatus for supplying us with a sort of algebra of
fact, based on those symbols. A brain may be the machinery by which
the material universe becomes conscious of itself." What, then, I
ask again, shall be my attitude? Shall I either assent to or deny
the assertion of the idealist, of the dogmatic materialist, or of
the theist? I shall do none of these. I shall say, with Ingersoll,
"I do not know."

     Now, this one sublime truth, that all we positively know, or
can positively know, is phenomena; that the pneumonia, the things
(if any things) back of phenomena, "the things in themselves," the
ultimate realities, the "Absolute," or "Unconditioned," are unknown
and inscrutable, is the truth which I had in view when, at the
beginning of this chapter, I proposed to examine the philosophical
foundation upon which Ingersoll stood. It is, I repeat, the one
sublime truth; and until it shall have been blotted out, the
attitude of the Agnostic, it seems to me, must be recognized as the
only tenable attitude of the human mind. Says Ingersoll: --
     "Let us be honest with ourselves. In the presence of countless
mysteries; standing beneath the boundless heaven sown thick with
constellations; knowing that each grain of sand, each leaf, each
blade of grass, asks of every mind the answerless question; knowing
that the simplest thing defies solution; feeling that we deal with
the superficial and the relative, and that we are forever eluded by
the real, the absolute, -- let us admit the limitations of our
minds, and let us have the courage and candor to say: We do not
know."

     Anxious to hear at first hand his views on so vital a point,
I once asked Ingersoll why he had accepted Agnosticism, instead of
either theism or dogmatic atheism. Be replied, in effect, that he
possessed, as his only guide in this and all other matters, a brain
capable of certain things: there were limits within which its
processes were confined. Under given conditions, it reached given
conclusions -- we will say beliefs. These beliefs unavoidably
resulted from evidence, as that which is called "weight" results
from the gravitation of matter placed upon a scale. As far as he
could see, his beliefs, -- his weights, -- were right, but he did
not affirm that they were right; for he recognized the fact that,
after all, his brain, -- his mental scales, -- might be wrong. To
him, the assertion that an infinitely wise and powerful Being
created and governs this world was a monstrous absurdity; but he
did not deny, because, as already stated, he realized that the
mental scales in which he was obliged to weigh the evidence for and
against might be wrong, -- might have erroneously tipped to the
negative side. And so he never claimed to know the right weight: he
simply read the scale. Moreover, he knew that there were millions
of other "scales," every one differing from his own, and that,
consequently, in spite of themselves, they would all give different
weights to the same matter. This is the golden kernel of
Ingersollism -- every mind its own "sealer of weights and
measures." He knew that the theist and the dogmatic atheist alike
must, too, have weighed the matter in their scales, and must have
reached, unavoidably, their respective conclusions. He did not
blame them for their conclusions: he simply demanded that they,
like himself, tell them as conclusions, not as facts.

     By many, Agnosticism is looked upon as a sort of philosophical
system or anti-theological creed. It is regarded as collectively
representing all the ideas and doctrines that are more or less
antagonistic to supernaturalism, particularly the supernaturalism
of Christendom.
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