Mr. Chairman: We shall again indulge ourselves in a few general strictures upon the data before us. With regard to the terms in which Mr. Owen has concluded his first position, we have a few remarks to offer. Mr. Owen distinctly asserts that all religions are founded in ignorance. Whether this be a recommendation or disparagement of all religions is a question of doubtful decision from the words of the position. Let us try this position with a reference to our existing institutions: All schools and colleges have been founded and established on the ignorance of man; all testimony has been established on the ignorance of man; all the books that have ever been printed are founded upon the ignorance of man! Are not these facts? But does the existence of these facts cast any opprobrium, obloquy, or disparagement upon books, human testimony, or seminaries of instruction? These terms, then, have nothing in their nature or import calculated to engender a prejudice against religion.

      I do believe that all religion is founded upon ignorance, using that term according to its legitimate import. And this very consideration proves the necessity of religion. If men were perfectly intelligent. with regard to the relations in which they stand to matter, spirit, a future state, etc., there would be no occasion for the institution of any sort of religion. "If," saith a distinguished writer, "our reason were always clear and perfect, unruffled by passion, unclouded by prejudice, unimpaired by disease or intemperance, we would need no other guide, in physics or in morals, but the light of nature. But every man finds the contrary in his own experience; that his reason is corrupt and his understanding full of ignorance and error; and hence is derived to us the necessity of an immediate and direct revelation. If, then, men need a religion at all, they need it because of their ignorance. It was instituted to remove human ignorance, and the necessity of supernatural revelation has ever been founded upon that ignorance. The difficulties my friend, Mr. Owen, presents on the subject of human responsibility, are of no ordinary magnitude. The most profound philosophers of ancient and modern times, have all differed upon this knotty point: "How far does necessity affect human character?" But Mr. Owen's argument ascribes everything to an irresistible necessity; which necessity, after all, is the operation of a blind and undesigning nature. But let us admit, for the sake of argument, that we could not trace how far we are the creatures of [42] necessity; suppose we were to fail in showing how far we are irresistibly influenced by extrinsic causes, would this failure, I ask, be sufficient to direct the whole body of evidence which establishes the truth of Christianity? How many necessarians are there who believe in supernatural revelation? I know that we may fall so deeply in love with a favorite idea, that our passion may transport us far beyond the limits of common sense and sober reason. But if we are to be governed by common sense, in objects of sense, let us learn a lesson from the experience we have of our ability to err, even when we have the evidence of sense. Errors may exist on subjects of sensible demonstration, which though discoverable by the senses, often elude detection. It is an axiom in mathematics, that two parallel lines though projected ad infinitum, can never meet in one point. Now this is certainly and evidently true. But where is the man living who, by his eye, or by the aid of the most perfect glasses can, at one glance, decide whether any seemingly parallels are perfectly mathematically parallels? You might draw them out to a great length, and yet they might not seem to approximate, but it is still possible that, if sufficiently projected, they might at some remote point, form an angle. How hazardous, then, with our imperfect vision, to affirm that any two lines are perfectly parallel. And yet this is a sensible object, and an object of which we take cognizance by the most perfect and discriminating of all our senses. Now we all confess that there are inherent difficulties in the ascertainment of abstract metaphysical truths, much more difficult to overcome than those difficulties which appertain to sensible objects. As, then, our mental vision is still more imperfect than our corporeal vision, does it become us at once to decide, with an air of infallibility, a question purely abstract, or to affirm that, in comparing two abstract ideas, they do or do not agree? How much more irrational to establish a whole system of skepticism upon a dogma of one parallelism of two given straight lines, seemingly running in the same direction? Now when two lines seemingly parallel, are presented to my eye, and I cannot decide by a mere glance of the eye, there are other means of deciding such a question, which cannot be applied to a question purely metaphysical; for there are no scale nor dividers by which we can actually measure the agreement or disagreement of abstract ideas. If now in sensible objects, such difficulties may, and do occur, would it be common sense in men to conclude that an abstract metaphysical position is at variance with experience and common sense, because I cannot set about to prove or disprove it as I would set about to prove or disprove the perfect parallelism of two mathematical lines? [43]

      If we are able to draw the line of demarcation between necessity and free agency, are we therefore to upset all the experience of man in relation to the existence of God, of a spiritual world, a future state, and everything connected with the Christian religion?

      But we have facts and arguments to prove that, to a very considerable extent, we are not the pure creatures of circumstances. My opponent is himself a living refutation of his own doctrine. He was born in Great Britain, consequently was bred in a state of society very different from that which he is so anxious to induce. Now the question is, Did his early circumstances make him such a man as he is, or originate those ideas which he is now divulging through Europe and America? He ascribes everything to circumstances. But he talks of happiness. Now let me ask, Has he ever seen such a set of circumstances as would make a man perfectly happy? How did he come by his peculiar ideas? They are the creatures not of circumstances, but of a warm and overheated imagination. This he may never see, owing to the obduracy of that hard-hearted necessity which presides over his destiny. I am willing to make very ample concessions to the doctrine of circumstances. It is a very precious and plausible doctrine, and many honest minds have been deceived by its plausibility. The curious and absurd intellectual aberrations, the strange mental hallucinations of philosophy and system-mongers are unaccountable. Hobbs reasoned himself into a perfect conviction that there was no such thing as right or wrong--that there was no moral difference in actions. Hume convinced himself that there was nothing else in the world but ideas and impressions. Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne, thoroughly persuaded himself that matter did not exist; and he framed a beautiful and ingenious theory, of the fallacy of which there was no convincing him. Reed, in his Essay on the Human Mind, states that some of the old philosophers (philosophists I should call them) went so far as to doubt of their own existence. Descartes was one of these. He would not believe in his own existence until he had proved it to his own satisfaction. And how think you did he prove it? Why, said he, Cogito, ergo sum. Now this was proof, just as illogical as if he had said, "I have an eye or an ear, and therefore I am." Yet this proof satisfied his mind. It is said of Pyrrho, the father of the Elean Philosophy, that so incredulous was he in the testimony of his senses, that he would not get out of the way of any danger, however imminent; that his friends had to take him out of the way of danger; for he would not turn away from the brink of a precipice. But there is no stopping-place to such philosophical reveries. It is not strange that Mr. Owen should diverge so far from the [44] beaten track of common sense. Many philosophers have done so before him, some of them have gone still farther than he. His case is by no means singular.

      I am quite willing to allow that there is great speciousness in the doctrine of necessity. This we may yet find necessary to expose. I am willing to concede many of Mr. Owen's points; such as, We cannot help being born black or white; we cannot choose the period or place of our birth, nor control the circumstances of our nature and education. But does it follow, as a logical conclusion, that because all men did not create themselves, ergo, all religions are founded in ignorance? This would seem to be the logical tendency of Mr. Owen's ratiocinations. Godwin, a highly gifted writer, runs at random pretty much after the same fashion; but he was constrained to stop some miles on this side of materialism. An insuperable difficulty occurred to him in the doctrine of causation. Godwin, in his reasonings on causation, discovered that it was impossible for him to ascertain what degree of power thought exercised over the movements of matter. After exploring the whole area of materialism, and the popular doctrine of necessity, he discovered that it was most philosophic to make the following confessions, or concessions:--

      "Of the origin of the faculty of thought, we are wholly uninformed. It is far from certain, that the phenomenon of motion can anywhere exist where there is no thought. The motions of the animal and vegetable systems is the most inexplicable of all motions, simple or complex. Thought appears to be the medium of operation in the material system. The materialists make thought the effect of matter or motion impressing us; but are not these effects again causes? Consequently thought becomes the cause of the movements and changes of matter. We are universally unable to discover the ground of necessary connection. It is possible that, as a numerous class of motions have their constant origin in thought; so there may be no thoughts altogether unattended with motion. There are but two ways in which thought can be excited in the mind--1st, by external impressions; and 2dly, by the property which one thought, existing in the mind, is found to have of introducing another, by some link unknown."¹

      These cardinal points, dimly apprehended, saved him from the vortex of materialism, and afford some wholesome admonitions to our modern wise men who are dressing up anew the long-exploded doctrines of fate and materialism.

      But to return to the doctrine of circumstances, we have proof, deduced from the experience of every man, that we are not always controlled by the circumstances around us. [45]

      Do we not originate new ideas, giving birth to new systems? Carry the influences of circumstances, according to Mr. Owen's doctrine, out to its legitimate consequences, and we must cease to be progressive beings--there's a stop put to our progressive improvability. But it behooves Mr. Owen, before he can establish the truth of his positions, to account for a variety of principles in human nature, in direct opposition to his whole theory. Of these we shall hereafter speak.

      I have been very much pleased with the perusal of my friend's "twelve fundamental laws of human nature," which he handed me during the intermission. I have very little objection to any of them, save that which undertakes to settle the amount of influence which the will exercises over our belief. But this is a question which I am not about to agitate at present. But the admission of Mr. Owen's "facts" does not involve an admission of all the reasonings and deductions superinduced upon them. But these very "facts" demonstrate that Mr. Owen has lost sight of the creature man, and of the relations in which he exists and acts. He never takes into view the intellectual endowments of man. No analysis of the powers or capabilities of the human mind has been attempted. 'Tis the mere animal, the external case, which is the mere habitation of the intelligent principle, which engrosses his whole thought and theory. All that Mr. Owen has said of man, might, with the same logical propriety, be affirmed of a goat. There is scarcely one of these twelve laws that is not as true of the irrational part of the animal creation as it is of man. According to these "divine laws of human nature," man is as effectually deprived of all data whereon to form a judgment, or even a conjecture concerning his primitive origin or future destiny, as is the horse or dog. Now in laying the foundation of any science or theory regarding the nature of man, we must take into view the whole premises, as well in relation to mind as matter--to things future as to things present. Every rational theory on the nature of man must be predicated, de rebus spiritualibus, as well as de rebus naturalibus--upon his spiritual, as well as his natural endowments; otherwise a theory predicated of only a part of man, must be defective, and at variance with all experience.

      Errors of this kind are very common among theorists. Each of them has some favorite principle, by which he resolves everything, and to which all his reasonings tend. But every rational theory of man must be founded upon a strict analysis of the whole man, moral and physical--upon an analysis of his mental endowments as well as his physical faculties--upon an analysis of everything pertaining to the man, soul, body, and spirit. But these "twelve facts" only [46] prove that all our ideas are the result of mere sensation--that they are acquired, accumulated, and imposed by the influence of external circumstances.

      We must yet examine whether such a theory can be predicated of the principles alleged. Locke, Hume, and all the mental philosophers, have agreed upon certain premises. Mirabeau himself agrees with Locke and Hume. They all agree that all our original ideas are the result of sensation and reflection; that is; that the first senses inform us of the properties of bodies, that our five senses are the only avenues through which ideas of material objects can be derived to us; that we have an intellectual power of comparing these impressions thus derived to us through the media of the senses; and this they call reflection. Admitting this theory to be correct (Mr. Owen has doubted it); but if it be correct that all our simple ideas are the result of sensation and reflection, how can we have any idea, the archetype of which does not exist in nature?

      But the question is, whence are the ideas, which we call religious, derived to us? Neither our sensations, impressions, nor their combinations, have ever been able to shadow out an archetype of a God or Creator producing something out of nothing. All our ideas concerning creative power have exclusive reference to changes wrought upon created matter. From the preceding sketch the idea of changing a shapeless piece of wood into a chair, is easily derived to us--it is simply an idea of a change wrought upon the raw material, that being created to the hand of the maker. But we have an idea of God, of a Creator, a being who has produced the whole material universe by the bare exhibition of physical creative power. This idea, we contend, can have no archetype in nature, because we have never seen anything produced out of nothing. But we have the idea of the existence of this creative power. It is to be found in almost all religions. If we appeal to traditionary or historic evidence, we shall find that all nations had originally some ideas of the existence of a Great First Cause. But the difficulty is--how did the idea originate? By what process could it have been engendered? Where was the archetype in nature to suggest (consistently with the analysis of the human nature) the remotest idea of a Creator, or any other idea concerning spiritual things? Locke and Hume admit the almost unbounded power of the imagination. It can abstract, compound, and combine the qualities of objects already known, and thus form new creations ad infinitum. But still it borrows all the original qualities from the other faculties of the mind, and from the external senses. Imagination can roam at large upon the properties of animals, and by abstracting from one [47] and adding to another, and thus combining their respective qualities, it creates to itself images unlike anything in nature. Hence the Centaur, the Sphinx, and the Griffin. But our ideas of all the constituents of these creatures of imagination are derived from our senses and reflections. There is no limit to its vagaries; for as the poet says, it can most easily convert a bush into bear. But a man, some say, may imagine the idea of a First Cause, and may originate spiritual ideas. But this is impossible from anything yet known in experience or in philosophy. To form ideas concerning spiritual things, imagination has to travel out of her province. To form the very idea of a God, she must transcend the visible material world. Nothing so fantastic as the vagaries of imagination, and yet nothing is more circumscribed. My imagination might picture to me a tree, the roots of which are iron, the stem brass, the leaves silver, and the apples gold; but if I had never seen a tree growing in the earth, could I possibly have conceived, in the wildest vagaries of my imagination, an idea of this wonderful metallic tree? I therefore conceive that it develops upon Mr. Owen (in deducing his proofs of the first position, that "all religions are founded in the ignorance of man") to show that we possess those powers which can enable us to reason from sensible material objects up to spiritual, immaterial existences. It behooves him to show that ignorant men, or men in the rudest ages of the world, were competent to invent and establish religion. If it be so that man is destitute of power to create something out of nothing, or to originate the fundamental ideas and terms found in all religions--if he cannot clear up this matter, how can he affirm that all religion is founded upon the ignorance of men? But this is not all: there are a few questions which I now beg leave distinctively to propose to my opponent for his consideration. I will furnish him with a copy of them for his examination during the evening, that on the morrow he may see the necessity of going more philosophically to work, if he intends to debate the points at issue at all:--

      1. Can man, by the exercise of his mental powers, originate language? And even suppose he could invent names for external sensible objects, could he also originate the terms peculiar to religion, for which he has no types in the sensible creation?

      2. Must not the object or idea exist prior to the name or term by which it is designated? For example, the term "steamboat," a word invented in our time--was not the object in existence before this name was found in our vocabulary?

      3. Must not the idea of the existence of any particular object, be prior to the idea of any of its properties? Or can we conceive of the properties of a thing, before we have an idea of that things' existence? [48]

      4. How, then, do we become conscious of the idea of spirit, our consciousness being limited to the objects of sensation, perception, and memory; and, consequently, all our mental operation being necessarily confined to the same objects?

      5. Does not our belief, as well as our knowledge and experience, depend upon our mental operations?

      I choose to present the matter in this form in order to elicit from my opponent something like an analysis of the powers of the human mind, which we must have soon or late in this controversy, if either of us will redeem the pledge we have given to this community.

[COD 42-49]