Theodore Parker says, "If a fact depends upon revelation, it is not eternally true, and if it is not eternally true it is no truth at all." Profound philosophy indeed!—as if eternally true, and sufficiently known were just the same thing. To use a familiar illustration, because vaccination would always have prevented the small pox, if it had been known, therefore the world is under no obligation to Jenner for informing us of the fact. Newman adds in another place, "I cannot receive instruction from another being." Again, "Neither God nor man can reveal any religious truths to our minds." Parker says, "On His (God's) word or as His second, be he whom he may, I can accept nothing" (Parker's Discourse page 209).
Now we are tempted to ask, who are these wonderful prodigies, so incapable of receiving instruction from anybody? And to our amazement we learn that some forty or fifty years ago, they made their appearance among mankind as little squalling babies, without insight enough to know their own names or who they were, or where they came from, and were actually dependent on an external revelation, from their nurses, for sense enough to find their mothers' breasts. And as they grew a little larger, they learned the art of speaking articulate sounds, by external revelation: viz., hearing and repeating sounds made by others. Further, on a certain day they had a book revelation made to them, in the shape of a ten cent primer, and received their first lessons by the instructions of another. They had not then the least "insight," or "spiritual faculty," or "mighty transcendent soul," by which they could learn all things in and of themselves. Faith in the word of their teachers was absolutely the only means by which they learned to speak, read and write.
But this is not half their indebtedness to external revelation. They admit that a Feejee cannibal has just the same "mighty and transcendent soul" that they themselves have. How, then, does it happen that Newman, Emerson and Parker, and all their followers, who are too proud to be taught of God, are not assembled around a cannibal's oven, smearing their faces with the blood and feasting themselves on the limbs of women and children? Is it not, after all, the revelations of God and the teachings depending thereon that make the whole difference between the civilized American and his Feejee brother?
It is amusing to see how these modern atheists, who reject Moses and the Prophets, as well as Christ and His Apostles, will permit themselves to go into ecstacies over the supposed wisdom of ancient heathen philosophers, such as Socrates, Plato and Aristotle. But on examination we find that the teachings of all these philosophers were immoral. The gratification of the sensual appetites was openly taught. "He may steal," says Plato, "who knows how to do it." Oaths are frequent in the writings of Plato and Seneca. Anstippus taught that a wise man had a right to commit adultery. Aristotle vindicated the awful crimes of foeticide and infanticide. Even suicide was defended by Cicero and Seneca as the mark of a hero, and Demosthenes, Cato, Brutus and Cassius carried the means of self-destruction about them, that they might not fall alive into the hands of their enemies.
The laws of the best-regulated heathen states commended or approved of vice. The student of the classics need not be reminded that the songs of Ovid, Horace and Virgil would not be tolerated in the vilest theater of New York or Chicago. The laws of Sparta required theft, and the murder of unhealthy children. The Carthaginian law required human sacrifices; and in ancient Babylon, prostitution was compulsory on every female. Plato, dissatisfied with the laws of his country, wrote out a code of morals and laws which he thought much better. In this heathen Utopia the ideas of home and family were ignored. Marriage was to be unknown; women's rights were to be maintained by having the women trained to war. Children were still to be murdered if convenience called for it. Little boys and girls were to be led to battle at a safe distance, "that the young whelps may early scent carnage and be inured to slaughter." Such were the loftiest ideas of the greatest philosopher of antiquity. After all his speculations and writing, Plato admitted, "We cannot know of ourselves what petition will be pleasing to God, or what worship we should pay to Him; but it is necessary that a lawgiver should be sent from heaven to instruct us. Oh, how greatly do I long to see that man!" He further adds, "This lawgiver must be more than man, that he may teach us things man cannot know by his own nature." Who has not dropped a tear over the dying words of Socrates? "I am going out of the world, and you are to continue in it, but which of us has the better part is a secret to every one but God!" Also those memorable words, "We must of necessity wait till some one, who careth for us, shall come and instruct us how we ought to behave toward God and toward man."
Nor is it to be expected that the ancient Egyptians, Greeks, Romans and other heathen nations should have an exalted idea of virtue, when we consider the character of the gods they worshiped. The Egyptian deities consisted of bulls and dogs, cats and rats, snakes and crocodiles. When a dog died the whole house went into mourning and fasted till night. A Roman soldier who had accidentally killed a cat was punished with death (see Diodorus Siculus, Book I). The "great, mighty and transcendent soul," as Carlyle terms it, had been degraded so low that there is a picture in one of the pyramids, of an Egyptian king worshiping his own coffin.
The Greeks from their intercourse with the Jews learned some correct religious ideas, especially after the conquest of Palestine by Alexander, and the translation of the scriptures into the Greek language, in the reign of Ptolemy Philadelphus, B. C. 240. Before this period little sense can be found in their religion. Their gods were as detestable as they were numerous. Hesiod tells us they had thirty thousand. Their supreme god, Jupiter, was an adulterer. Mars, a murderer. Mercury, a thief, Bacchus, a drunkard and Venus, a prostitute. To their inferior gods they attributed other crimes too horrible to be mentioned. These gods they worshiped with ceremonies of lust, drunkenness and bloodshed unfit to be described.
If any one supposes that the condition of the modern heathens is any better than it was in ancient times, let him turn to India, where he will find one hundred and fifty millions of rational beings, possessing, as Theodore Parker says, "all needful spiritual light," who worship three hundred and thirty millions of gods in the form of hills and trees, rivers and rocks, elephants and tigers, monkeys and rats, serpents and crocodiles, and monsters unlike anything in heaven or on earth. The monster idol, Juggernaut, will do as a specimen of all. Around his temple countless multitudes from all parts of India, congregate annually, many of them having measured with their own bodies the whole distance of their weary pilgrimage. Within the temple, the monster idol, with its frightful grim and distorted visage, sits enthroned, amid thousands of massive sculptures, the representative emblem of that cruelty and vice which constitute the very essence of his worship. There in their sacred city of Benares may be seen at all times crowds of religious devotees and mendicants; some remaining all day with their heads on the ground and their feet in the air; some cramming their eyes with mud and their mouths with straw; others with their limbs fastened in unnatural positions, and still others with little pots of fire placed upon their breasts, hoping by these self-inflicted tortures to win the favor of the god. When the day of the high festival arrives, the horrid idol is dragged forth from his temple and mounted on a lofty car in the presence of hundreds of thousands who rend the air with their shouts, "Victory to Juggernaut!" Then the officiating priest commences the ceremonies by a loathsome pantomimic exhibition accompanied by the utterance of obscene and filthy songs, to which the vast multitude at intervals respond, not in the strains of tuneful melody, but in loud yells of approbation. After this the terrible carnage commences; for as the car is dragged through the streets, the more enthusiastic devotees throw themselves beneath the wheels, and are instantly crushed to pieces, the infatuated victims of hellish superstition. On the neighboring hills, the so-called sacred vultures may be seen feasting on these corpses and the bleak and barren sands on the roadside are forever whitened with the skulls and bones of deluded pilgrims, which lie bleaching in the sun (see Duff's India, page 222).
Of course, high-toned infidels do not consider themselves as debased as the natives of India. What then is the tendency of their teachings? M. Compte, a leading skeptical writer, tells us, "Childhood should be taught to worship idols, youth to believe in one God, and full grown men (like himself) to adore the resultant of all the forces of the universe, not forgetting their worthy friends the animals" (see Politique Positive, Vol. II. page 60). If this is not the teachings of idolatry, what is it?
Again, we find that the whole school of infidel writers vindicate and apologize for the very worst of crimes. Bradlaugh, the leading atheist of England, declares that, "A man is no more to be blamed for the indulgence of lust or anger, than he is for thirst or drowsiness." Hume, whose arguments are so often used by American infidels, taught that "adultery must be practiced by mankind, if they would obtain all the advantages of life." Lord Chesterfield, another prominent infidel, in his letters to his son (which were designed for publication) instructs him in the art of seduction, as part of a polite education.