Religious Belief
By Charles Darwin
This is an extract from:
1809-1882
With original omissions restored
Edited with Appendix and Notes
by his grand-daughter
Nora Barlow.
(1958)
During these two
years[1]
I was led to think much about religion. Whilst on board the
Beagle I was quite orthodox, and I remember being
heartily laughed at by several of the officers (though
themselves orthodox) for quoting the Bible as an
unanswerable authority on some point of morality. I suppose
it was the noveltry of the argument that amused them. But I
had gradually come, by this time, to see that the Old
Testament from its manifestly false history of the world,
with the Tower of Babel, the rainbow at sign, etc., etc.,
and from its attributing to God the feelings of a revengeful
tyrant, was no more to be trusted than the sacred books of
the Hindoos, or the beliefs of any barbarian. The question
then continually rose before my mind and would not be
banished, -- is it credible that if God were now to make a
revelation to the Hindoos, would he permit it to be
connected with the belief in Vishnu, Siva, &c, as
Christianity is connected with the Old Testament. This
appeared to me utterly incredible.
By further reflecting that the clearest evidence would be
requisite to make any sane man believe in the miracles by
which Christianity is suppoted, -- that the more we know of
the fixed laws of nature the more incredible do miracles
become, -- that the men at that time were ignorant and
credulous to a degree almost incomprehensible by us, -- that
the Gospels cannot be proved to have been written
simultaneous with the events, -- that they differ in many
important details, far too important as it seemed to me to
be admitted as the usual inaccuracies of eyewitnesses; -- by
such reflections as these, which I give not as having the
least noveltry or value, but as they influenced me, I
gradually came to disbelieve in Christianity as a divine
revelation. The fact that many false religions have spread
over large portions of the earth like wild-fire had some
weight on me. Beautiful as is the morality of the New
Testament, it can hardly be denied that its perfection
depends in part on the interpretation which we now put on
metaphors and allegories.
But I was very unwilling to give up my belief; -- I feel
sure of this for I can well remember often and often
inventing day-dreams of old letters between distinguished
Romans and manuscripts being discovered at Pompeji or
elsewhere which confirmed in the most striking manner all
that was written in the Gospels. But I found it more and
more difficult, with free scope given to my imagination, to
invent evidence which would suffice to convince me. Thus
disbelief crept over me at very slow rate, but was at last
complete. The rate was so slow that I felt no distress, and
have never since doubted even for a single second that my
conclusion was correct. I can indeed hardly see how anyone
ought to wish Christianity to be true; for if so the plain
language of the text seems to show that the men who do not
believe, and this would include my Father, Brother and
almost all of my friends, will be everlasting punished.
And this is a damnable doctrine[2]
Although I did not think much about the existence of a
personal God until a considerably later period of my life, I
will here give the vague conclusions to which I have been
driven. The old argument of design in nature, as given by
Paley, which formerly seemed to me so conclusive, fails, now
that the law of natural selection has been discovered. We
can no longer argue that, for instance, the beautiful hinge
of a bivalve shell must have been made by an intelligent
being, like the hinge of a door by man. There seems to be no
more design in the variability of organic beings and in the
action of natural selection, than in the course the wind
blows. Everything in nature is the result of fixed laws. But
I have discussed this subject at the end of my book on the
Variation of Domestic Animals and
Plants[3],
and the argument there given has never, as far as I can see,
been answered.
But passing over the endless beautiful adaptions which we
everywhere meet with, it may be asked how can the generally
beneficient arrangement of the world be accounted for? Some
writers indeed are so much impressed with the amount of
suffering in the world that they doubt if we look to all
sentinent beings, whether there is more of misery or of
happiness; -- whether the world as a whole is a good or a
bad one. According to my judgement happiness decidedly
prevails, though this would be very difficult to prove. If
the truth of this conclusion be granted, it harmonises well
with the effects which we might expect from natural
selection. If all the individuals of any species were
habitually to suffer to an extreme degree they would neglect
to propagate their kind; but we have no reason to believe
that this have ever or at least often occured. Some other
considerations, moreover, lead to the belief that all
sentinent beings have been formed so as to enjoy, as a
general rule, happiness.
Everyone who believes, as I do, that all the corporeal
and mental organs (excepting those which are neither
advantegous or disadvantegous to the posessor) of all beings
have been developed through natural selection, or the
survival of the fittest, together with use or
habit[4],
will admit that these organs have formed so that their
possessors may compete succesfully with other beings, and
thus increase in number. Now an animal may be led to pursue
that course of action which is the most beneficial to the
species by suffering, such as pain, hunger, thirst, and
fear, -- or by pleasure, as in eating and drinking and in
the propagation of the species, &c. or by both means
combined, as in the search for food. But pain or suffering
of any kind, if long continued, causes depression and
lessens the power of action; yet is well adapted to make a
creature guard itself against any great or sudden evil.
Pleasurable senseations, on the other hand, may be long
continued without any depressive effect; on the contrary
they stimulate the whole system to increase action. Hence it
has come to pass that most or all sentinent beings have been
developed in such a manner through natural selection, that
pleasurable sensations serve as their habitual guides. We
see this in the pleasure from exertion, even occasionally
from great exertion of the body or mind, -- in the pleasure
of our daily meals, and especially in the pleasure derived
from sociability and from loving our families. The sum of
such pleasures as these, which are habitual or frequently
recurrent, give, as I can hardly doubt, to most beings an
excess of happiness over misery, although many occasionally
suffer much. Such suffering is quite compatible with the
belief in Natural Selection, which is not perfect in its
action, but tends only to render each species as successful
as possible in the battle for life with other species, in
wonderfully complex and changing circumstances.
That there is much suffering in he world no one disputes.
Some have attempted to explain this in reference to man by
imagining that it serves for his moral improvement. But the
number of men in the world is as nothing compared with that
of all other sentinent beings, and these often suffer
greatly without any moral improvement. A being so powerful
and so full of knowledge as a God who could create the
universe, is to our finite minds omnipotent and omniscient,
and it revolts our understanding to supose that his
benevolence is not unbounded, for what advantage can there
be in the suffering of millions of the lower animals
throughout almost endless time? This very old argument from
the existence of suffering against the existence of an
intelligent first cause seems to me a strong one; whereas,
as just remarked, the presence of much suffering agrees well
with the view that all organic beings have been developed
through variation and natural selection.
At the present day the most usual argument for the
existence of an intelligent God is drawn from the deep
inward conviction and feelings which are experienced by most
persons. But it cannot be doubted that Hindoos, Mahomadans
and others might argue in the same manner and with equal
force in favour of the existence of one God, or of many
Gods, or as with the Buddists of no God. There are also many
barbarian tribes who cannot be said with any truth to
believe in what we call God: they believe indeed in spirits
or ghosts, and it can be explained, as Tyler and Herbert
Spencer have shown, how such a belief would be likely to
arise.
Formely I was led by feelings such as those just referred
to, (although I do not think that the religious sentiment
was ever strongly developed in me), to the firm conviction
of the existence of God, and of the immortality of the soul.
In my journal I wrote that whilst standing in the midst of
the grandeur of a Brazilian forest, 'it is not possible to
give an adequate idea of the higher feelings of wonder,
admiration, and devotion which fill and elevate the mind.' I
well remember by conviction that there is more in man than
the mere breath of his body. But now the grandest scenes
would not cause any such convictions and feelings to rise in
my mind. It may be truly said that I am like a man who has
become colour-blind, and the universal belief by men of the
existence of redness makes my present loss of perception of
not the least value as evidence. This argument would be a
valid one if all men of all races had the same inward
conviction of the existence of one God; but we know that
this is very far from being the case. Therefore I cannot see
that such inward convictions and feelings are of any weight
as evidence of what really exists. The state of mind which
grand scenes formerly excited in me, and which was
intimately connected with a belief in God, did not
essentially differ from that which is often called the sence
of sublimity; and however difficult it may be to explain the
genesis of this sence, it can hardly be advanced as an
argument for the existence of God, any more than the
powerful though vague and similar feelings excited by
music.
With respect to immortality[5],
nothing shows me how strong and almost instinctive a belief
is, as the consideration of the view now held by most
physicist, namely that the sun with all the planets will in
time grow too cold for life, unless indeed some great body
dashes into the sun and thus gives it fresh life. --
Believing as I do that man in the distant future will be a
far more perfect creature than he now is, it is an
intolerable thought that he and all other sentinent beings
are doomed to complete annihilation after such
long-continued slow progress. To those who fully admit the
immortality of the human soul, the destruction of our world
will not appear so dreadful.
Another source of conviction in the existance of God
connected with the reason and not the feelings, impresses me
as having much more weight. This follows from the extreme
difficulty or rather impossibility of conceiving this
immense and wonderful universe, including man with his
capability of looking far backwards and far into futurity,
as the result of blind chance or necessity. When thus
reflecting I feel compelled to look at a first cause having
an intelliegent mind in some degree analogous to that of
man; and I deserve to be called a theist.
This conclusion[6]
was strong in my mind about the time, as far I can remember,
when I wrote the Origin of species; and it is since
that time that it has very gradually with many fluctuations
become weaker. But then arises the doubt -- can the mind of
man, which has, as I fully believe, been developed from a
mind as low as the possessed by the lowest animal, be
trusted when it draws such a grand conclusions? May not
these be the result of the connection between cause and
effect which strikes us as a necessary one, but probably
depends merely on inherited experience? Nor must we overlook
the probability of the constant inculcation in a belief in
God on the minds of children producing so strong and perhaps
an inherited effect on their brains not yet fully developed,
that it would be as difficult for them to throw off their
belief in God, as for a monkey to throw off its instinctive
fear and hatred of a snake.[7]
I cannot pretend to throw the least light on such
abstruse problems. The mystery of the beginning of all
things is insoluble to us; and I for one must be content to
remain an Agnostic.
A man who has no assured and ever present belief in the
existence of a personal God or of future existence with
retribution and reward, can have for his rule of life, as
far as I can see, only to follow those impulses and
instincts which are the strongest or which seem to him the
best ones. A dog acts in this manner, but he does so
blindly. A man, on the other hand, looks forwards and
backwards, and compares his various feelings, desires and
recollections. He then finds, in accordance with the verdict
of all the wisest men that the highest satisfaction is
derived from following certain impulses, namely the social
instincts. If he acts for the good of others, he will
recieve the approbation of his fellow men and gain the love
of those with whom he lives; and this latter gain undoubtely
is the highest pleasure on this earth. By degrees it will
become intolerable to him to obey his sensuous passions
rather than his higher impulses, which when rendered
habitual may be almost called instincts. His reason may
occasionally tell him to act in opposition to the opinion of
others, whose approbiation he will then not recieve; but he
will still have the solid satisfactionof knowing that he has
followed his innermost guide or conscience. -- As for myself
I believe that I have acted rightly in steadily following
and devoting my life to science. I feel no remorse from
having committed any great sin, but have often and often
regretted that I have not done more direct good to my fellow
creatures. My sole and poor excuse is much ill-health and my
mental constitution, which makes it extremely difficult for
me to turn from one subject or occupation to another. I can
imagine with high satisfaction giving up my whole life to
philantropy, but not a portion of it; though this would have
been a far better line of conduct.
Nothing[8]
is more remarkable than the spread of scepticism or
rationalism during the latter half of my life. Before I was
engaged to be married, my father advised me to conceal
carefully my doubts, for he said that he had known extreme
misery thus caused with married persons. Things went on
pretty well until the wife or husband became out of health,
and then some women suffered miserably by doubting about the
salvation of their husbands, thus making them likewise to
suffer. My father added that he had known during his whole
long life only three women who were sceptics; and it should
be remembered that he knew well a mutitude of persons and
possessed extraordinary power of winning confidence. When I
asked him who the three women were, he had to own with
respect to one of them, his sister-in-law Kitty Wedgwood,
that he had no good evidence, only the vaguest hints, aided
by the conviction that so clear-sighted a woman could not be
a believer. At the present time, with my small acquaintance,
I know (or have known) several married ladies, who believe
very little more than their husbands. My father used to
quote an unanswerable argument, by which an old lady, a Mrs
Barlow, who suspected him of unorthodoxy, hoped to convert
him: -- "Doctor, I know that sugar is sweet in my mouth, and
I know that my redeemer liveth."
Notes
Notes marked F.D., were written for the original edition
by Charles Darwin's son Francis Darwin. N.B. indicates a
note added by his grand-daughter Nora Barlow for the
re-edition with original omissions restored.
- October 1836 to January 1839. -- F.D.
- Mrs Darwin annotated this passage (from "and have
never since doubted"... to "damnable doctrine") in her
own handwriting. She writes: -- "I should dislike the
passage in brackets to be published. It seems to me raw.
Nothing can be said too severe upon the doctrine of
everlasting punishment for disbelief -- but very few now
wd. call that 'Christianity,' (tho' the words are there.)
There is the question of verbal inspiration comes in too.
E.D." Oct 1882. This was written six months after her
husband's death, in a second copy of the Autobiography in
Francis's handwriting. The passage was not published. --
N.B.
- My father aks whether we are to believe that the
forms are preordained of the broken fragmentsof rock
which are fitted together by man to build his houses. If
not, why should we believe that the variations of
domestic animals or plants are preordained for the sake
of the breeder? "But if we give up the principle in one
case, ... no shadow of reason can be assigned for the
belief that variations alike in nature and the result of
the same general laws, which have been the groundwork
through natural selection of the formation of the most
perfectly adapted animals in the world, man included,
were intentionally and specially guided." --
Variations of Animals and Plants, 1st Edit. vol.
ii. p. 431 -- F.D.
- "together with use or habit" added later. The many
corrections and alterations in this sentence show his
increasing preoccupation with the possibility of other
forces at work besides Natural Selection. -- N.B.
- Addendum added later to end of paragraph -- N.B.
- Addenum of four lines added later. In Charles MS.
copy the interleaved addition is in his eldest son's
hand. In Francis's copy it is in Charles own hand -- N.B.
- Added later. Emma Darwin wrote and asked Frank to
omit this sentence when he was editing the Autobiography
in 1885. The letter is as follows: --
-
"Emma Darwin to her son Francis 1885.
My dear Frank,
There is one sentence in the Autobiography which I
very much wish to omit, no doubt partly because your
father's opinion that all morality has grown
up by evolution is painful to me; but also because
where this sentence comes in, it gives one a sort of
chock -- and would give an opening to say, however
unjustly, that he considered all spiritual beliefs no
higher than hereditary aversions or likings, such as
the fear of monkeys towards snakes.
I think the disrespectful aspect would disappear if
the first part of the conjecture was left without the
illustration of the instance of monkeys and snakes. I
don't think you need to consult William about this
omission, as it would not change the whole gist of the
Autobiograohy. I should wish if possible to avoid
giving pain to your father's religious friends who are
deeply attached to him, and I picture to myself the
way that sentence would strike them, even those so
liberal as Ellen Tollett and Laura, much more Admiral
Sullivan, Aunt Caroline, &c., and even the old
servants.
Yours, dear Frank,
E.D."
This letter appeared in Emma Darwin by
Henrietta Litchfield in the privately printed edition
from the Cambridge University Press in 1904. In John
Murray's public edition of 1915 it was omitted. -- N.B.
- This paragraph has a note by Charles: -- "Written in
1879 -- copied out Apl. 22, 1881." Probably refers also
to previous paragraph. -- N.B.
|