Atheism of Astronomy: A Reply to Critics

SINCE "The Atheism of Astronomy" was published many letters of comment and criticism have reached the Truth Seeker. Some of these were printed in the paper, and I am extremely grateful to Editor Smith, as well as to the various contributions who have helped to widen the scope of the discussion.

Some of the letters which have reached me privately express a deep interest in the subject of astronomy. Some are very illuminating on the behavior patterns of mankind--and some very religious. One, from an exotic female, I am told, can only be construed as a burning love letter, proposing that I accept Jesus, through her. I had no idea that a simple work of mine, defending "gross'' materialism and a godless universe, should have caused such a "spiritual" awakening and religious fervor in one of my readers. Others, as pathetic as this, seem more interested in the salvation of my soul than the facts I discussed. Still another, hopeless of my future, has already consigned me to regions close to the core of the earth. Communications like these have been conveniently filed in the wastebasket for future consideration.

Rabbi Ahron Opher, of the Hebrew Tabernacle, Washington Heights, New York City, who wrote me concerning "The Atheism of Astronomy," calls attention to the theories of "Keppler," "Genes," and "Ettington" as likely to refute its arguments. The way these learned doctors of Judaism toss the names of scientific men about. (and misspell them) is enough to make a freshman groan.

Rabbis of today get their wisdom from the ancient Jews, whose knowledge of the world was below that of the not very over-bright Egyptians. Says the historian Buckle: "Science properly so called, the Egyptians had none; and as to their wisdom, it was considerable enough to distinguish them from the barbarous nations like the old Hebrews, but it was inferior to that of the Greeks, and it was of course immeasurably below that of modern Europe."

Kosher knowledge today is canned ignorance from the past.

I propose here to consider some of the more recent issues raised by several of my critics. Among these is the question as to whether or not there are likely to be other worlds inhabited like the earth.

One writer argues that since millions of stars can be seen merely as tiny points of light, there may be planets, unseen through the telescope, circling about them. He is entitled to his "may". We know enough, however, of our planets close at hand, the peculiarity of their origin, and their requirements for the sustentation of life, to accept a conclusion other than that planetary existence is a minor occurrence, and that life, as we know it here, is as nothing at all in the stellar depths. Those who believe in a "well-populated" universe will have to "populate" billions upon billions of "white hot" stars.

Some find it difficult to believe that life is a rare occurrence in the universe and that the earth is probably the only inhabited planet of our system. It is their contention that such a "unique" situation is counter to the "expectancy" one would look for among so many worlds. They seem to think that physical and chemical forces, operative everywhere, must necessarily bring into existence things very much alike through to the universe, and that we should always find duplications. This is definitely not so.

One does not have to look far into space to confirm this. Nature can be as sparing and restricted in some of its activities as lavish in others. There are many "rare" occurences in nature. Such as the evolution of a Darwin or a Shakespeare out of so much human scum. Since our earth began there has been only one age of Reptiles. The dinosaur was "unique" among all forms of life. Among the multitudinous species of plants and flowers, "Dionaea muscipula," a distinctive type, is found only in one tiny corner of the globe. The kangaroo is a native of Australia -- and nowhere else.

The manatee is restricted to a few tropical waters, the gorilla to small areas in Africa. The rarity of planets and the scarcity of life in space are in no way startling to one who takes a long range view of things. It is a view which is definitely warranted by the findings of astronomy, which show that what happens at one point in space does not have to be duplicated elsewhere. The sun is an exceptional star, and its planets are an exceptional "birth."

As to the question, Whence comes intelligence?, it will be found answered in any good text-book on organic evolution. Intelligence, both in the race and in the individual, gradually develops with the brain and the nervous system. It is a physiological activity which manifests itself in a large part of the biological world, including man. It is not a mysterious subject at all, except to those who like to indulge in a "tyranny of words." And it is readily comprehensible, I believe, to any individual who is not too deeply absorbed in contemplating Plymouth Rock and in asking why, if matter really thinks, rocks cannot "acquire knowledge?

Psychology, true to its ancient heritage, is still dominated by a vast amount of Hottentot ignorance. Psychologists of the mystic school still talk of the mind as a ghost. What cannot be picked up and weighed on a butcher's scale must be a "spirit". They cannot seem to grasp that a motion of matter in the skull, or a vibration in the nerveganglia of the brain cannot be taken out of one's head and tossed on scales. They are as obsessed with a belief in spirit possession as the "benighted" savage, who, seeing a watch for the first time, concludes there is a ghost inside. The savage sees a "spirit" in the watch case, the mystic sees a "spirit" in his head.

The spirit mongers can no more comprehend the mechanistic character of the brain and its material functioning than they can comprehend the implications of materialism in their broader aspects. Life, they think, must be a dreary, meaningless affair without a recognition of "spirit." Being muddled on the one hand, they are sure to be muddled on the other. They are as quickly disturbed over a godless universe as a ghostless brain.

One critic marvels how a materialist, facing the "dismal" picture I have drawn, should "so shuffle the faculties of his mind" as to preserve his "poise" and "equanimity." I have seen, perhaps, a fair share of the grim side of life. But I see no reason why any man, unless his nerves are shattered or he faces some unbearable afffiction, should jump off a dock or turn on the gas. No one need become panic stricken merely because there is no paternal intelligence in the sky. Life can be made an interesting adventure in solving human problems and mastering the art of living. That art consists, in part, of cultivating one's intelligence and helping others to rise from the slough of ignorance and superstition.

If any one should be dejected and disheartened by the evils of the world, it is he who, having accepted belief in a guiding "intelligence," is compelled to witness the cruel behavior and callous indifference of his "Heavenly Father." It is the Christian who, praying to be relieved from an excruciating cancer, gets nothing in return but a celestial slap in the face, who should feel his despondency most. It is the theist, not the atheist, who should be tempted to slit his own throat. That is something our pedagogical theists and blackboard "psychologists" will never understand.

Certainly nothing I have put into words could offer a more "melancholy" picture of things as they are than that presented in the mass hysteria caused by our recent "invasion" by monsters from Mars. The radio broadcasters simply over-estimated, as I have done myself too often, the average intelligence of the race. It was the "spiritually-minded," who are said to derive "poise" and "equanimity" from their convictions, who were most easily demoralized, and who fled to their churches like flocks of frightened geese. If had they known more about Mars and less about "spiritual" matters, they would have probably enjoyed the radio entertainment.

Those who talk of: the dreariness and drabness of existence for the materialist, deceive themselves. Such jargon as that we must search for understanding in the depths of infinite reality" belongs to the age of priests. The materialist can be, and generally is, the highest cultivator of the finer things of life. He is better able to appreciate the cultural and esthetic values of life precisely because his eyes are open and he can think more clearly. In the fine arts and, in science, in music and drama, he generally excels. Lucretius, the greatest of didactic poets, was a materialist. So, too, was Holbach, whose home, indeed, was "one of the chief social centers of culture in Europe." Haeckel, who believed in neither God nor immortality, was an artist of high rank, whose hundreds of drawings of marine life in color would have made him famous independent of his accomplishments in the biological field. Buchner, whose "Force and Matter" rocked the religious world took time off from scientific pursuits to write exquisite verse. Vogt so lived that he, was "a brilliant man, of exceptional culture" whose "standard of conduct was rigorous'' and "humanitarian zeal intense." It was the teaching of Diderot, says Bury, "that man's energies should be devoted to making the earth pleasant." Girard, the philanthropist, put this into practice by founding a university and giving away millions to the poor. In brief, the zest for life and the cultivation of character will not be dulled because, of the discovery that there is no one in the clouds interested in our welfare.

Those who look for a moral crack-up under materialism, or for an era of gloom, should turn again to the pages of history. Under "spiritual" influences men became morbid, sour, and cruel. And it was precisely the most "spiritual" ages which contributed most to the destruction of man's happiness. Buckle, writing of the Scotch Kirk and its influence, says:
"Cheerfulness, especially when it rose to laughter, was to be guarded against. . . . Smiling, provided it stopped short of laughter, might occasionally be allowed; still, being a carnal pastime, it was a sin to smile on Sunday. Even on weekdays, those who were most imbued with religious principles hardly ever smiled, but sighed, groaned and wept.... A Christian had no business with love or sympathy. He had his own soul to attend to, and that was enough for him. Let him look to himself. On Sunday, in particular, he must never think of benefiting others and the Scotch clergy did not hesitate to teach the people that on that day it was sinful to save a vessel in distress, and that it was a proof of religion to leave ship and crew to perish."

Of what significance, therefore, are fulminations against materialism? The plea that we acknowledge a "spirit" within and accept an "intelligence" in the clouds is Sunday school prattle. Man has progressed morally, and grown culturally, in proportion as he has abandoned these ideas. The closer we stick to matter the more we understand the workings of the universe. Culture has been advanced by ditching the ghosts.

What has "spirituality" to offer? The age of "spirituality" and ghost worship marks the most degrading and bloody period of man's existence. Those who sought culture in the "depths of infinite reality" by glorifying "spirit" and degrading matter usually ended up by burning one another at the stake. It was a sordid age, when pious scoundrelism prevailed and fanaticism ran amuck. No tragedy has equaled the dark ages of religion, when "spirituality" triumphed and materialism was crushed.

These things will never come again if men learn to think.

Christianity and Astrology

THAT vigilant rationalist, Irma De Bruycker, who has done such splendid work in discrediting astrology, has just sent me a pamphlet written by a Christian clergyman, the Rev. Frank Hancock, President of the Burnham Astronomical Society of Chicago. It is entitled "Astrology, or Do the Stars Determine the Lives of Men and Nations?"

As an astronomer, the author does credit to himself in pointing out the absurdities of astrology, but as a professional Christian he drags in about as much pious nonsense as can be found in an equal number of pages defending Christianity. The work is badly marred, if not largely nullified by its more than occasional vapidities in support of the Bible.

Our author seems open to the idea that Seth, the third son of Adam, was the first astronomer. "There is a tradition," says he, "that Seth, the fourth from Adam, was the father of astronomy . . . if this is correct then the known history of astronomy is a period covering more than 5600 years." But why should Dr. Hancock mistake "a tradition" for "known history?" There is a tradition also, that a Bible general once made the sun stand still, but who will accept it as "known history"? The mythical Adam never had a living son, and.all that the Old Testament writers could tell us about the stars is that "He made the stars also". And the only star that was considered by the Gospel writers as worthy of record is the one that stopped over a stable.

Actually astronomy, in the modern meaning of the term, began with Copernicus. This was in 1543. Prior to that, star-gazing was largely a bad mixture of crude observation and even cruder superstition. Astronomy and astrology were hopelessly mixed. Kepler and Tycho Brahe both defended astrology. "Nor did astronomy, says the Encyclopaedia Britannica, "begin to rid itself of astrology till the 16th century . . . In the Europe of the 14th and 15th centuries astrologers were dominating influences at court." These were Christian centuries in Europe, and Christian kings consulted astrologers as Christian bankers and Christian shop-girls today consult horoscopes. There were no subway stands or Woolworth stores in those days, but if there had been, one could have picked up a fine horoscope at almost any turn. As it was, the horoscope makers had to confine their attention to the yokels, in the king's court.

Jesus, to be sure, did not teach astrology, but its practice in Christian times and places fits well with the intellectual dearth which Christianity creates. And it is safe to say that it thrives in Christian countries today on a much larger scale than it flourished in any "pagan" age. Our newsstands are glutted with astrological magazines and our leading newspapers carry astral charts. One can get his particular horoscope at the same place he buys his gum.

In England matters are much the same as they are here. As these lines are written, there is a dispatch from London, published in the New York Times, dealing with the great popularity of astrology in Britain and the number of newspapers that feature astrological predictions. So great is the vogue, in fact, that it has raised comment in the House of Commons, where a plea was made to the Minister of Information that he curb the nuisance, on the ground that "addicts of astrology will relax their efforts" in the prosecution of the war. His answer was that "I cannot ask our overworked censors to meddle in these mysteries." Christian England is as astrologically obsessed as America itself.

Astrology flourishes in Christian countries today, not because it is embodied in Christian doctrine, but because it appeals to the same gullibility and uncritical type of mind that makes Christianity possible. The same individual,who believes in divination by dreams, or in any of the other miracles of the Bible can very well believe in, divination by the stars; it is merely a matter of transferring his credulous proclivities to another delusion. Susceptibility to one form of superstition leaves one susceptible to others.

When one superstition poaches on another's reserves, there is sure to be a conflict. Officially, the Catholic Church is opposed to astrology, not because astrology is a vulgar superstition, but because it trespasses on an important Church doctrine. If a person's fate is determined, at birth, by the stars, and is predictable from them, where does the doctrine of "free will" come in, and how can he be held "morally" accountable in a fatalistic world? It is the "deterministic" character of astrology that Christianity deplores.

Dr. Hancock is opposed to astrology, less because it is an unscientific doctrine than because it conflicts with his religion. Astrology, he tells us, represents a Babylonian hang-over that would have us consult the stars rather than the Bible patriarchs. "It is," he says, "even more a problem for the educated ministers, priests and rabbis to expose this revival of neo-paganism in our modern life, as primarily and fundamentally it is more a religious problem than perhaps scientific, a fact which was realized by the ancient prophets of Israel, whose spiritual seed, we are, was situated in the, midst of the polytheistic peoples who practiced astrology as a religion, that it was Israel's mission to give to the world the truth of the one true and only God. For this she was chosen and it is utterly impossible to offset these teachings of the astrologers without a knowledge of that Revelation of which the seed of Abraham was the specially chosen vehicle."

And how did "the seed of Abraham", this "specially chosen vehicle", the Jews, oppose astrology? By matching their own crazy notions against it, by substituting the astrologer's divination of the stars with their own prophecies through "dreams" and "visions". The Jewish Daniel, you may recall, "had understanding in all visions and dreams", and, at the court of Nebuchadnezzar, foretold the future by interpreting the king's dream. "And in all matters of wisdom and understanding", says the Bible, "that the king inquired of them [Daniel and his fellow seers], he found them ten times better than all the magicians and astrologers that were in all his realm."

"The seed of Abraham was never distinguished for its knowledge of the stars. As well expressed in that monumental work, Dr. William Smith's "Dictionary of the Bible", "the Hebrews are not known to have made much advance in astronomical science, though there are many allusions in the Scriptures to the visible heavens," The Biblical "heavens" were about all the patriarchs knew, and their ridiculous cosmology was a stumbling block to science for thousands of years. It was, in fact, the chief obstacle to the advance of astronomy in Christian times.

Astrology, we are told by Dr. Hancock, is a "pagan" superstition that flourished in ancient Babylonia, extended itself to Greece, and survived in Imperial Rome, but which died with the coming of Christianity. "With the Fall of the Roman Empire," says he, "astrology came to an end for about 500 years." It did, but it came to an end, not through any enlightenment from the Church, but by extermination. The astrologer had as much chance of living under the popes as a heretic or a "witch". Christianity had its own brands of magic to protect -- and astrology was taboo. Besides, astrology was too close to "pagan" beliefs and practices to be tolerated. The Church had prophecies and divinations of its own and would as soon permit a ''reading" of the stars as suffer a witch to live.

Is the Bible any less preposterous in its teachings about the stars than astrology itself? We are told in the Book of Revelation of a certain "star" named "Wormwood" (I do not find it listed in my catalogue of stars) that "fell" and destroyed a vast number of men. Any star that could "fall" and kill people without destroying the earth is a more remarkable orb than our satellite, the moon, which, astrology tells us, regulates our intestinal tract and left eye. Yet Dr. Hancock would have us accept the Biblical story and not the other.

Dr. Hancock is alarmed lest a revival of astrology lead us back to dark "pagan" days.

Compared with the "light" that Israel shed in the world, the splendors of ancient pagan Rome were as day to night. Rome's resplendency was one of the supreme marvels of the world, beside which the "glories?' and accomplishments of the "seed Of Abraham" were paltry and mean. Dr. Hancock has simply got his history mixed. Neither Judaism nor Christianity has ever produced a culture comparable to that which reared the Roman Empire an edifice, says Gibbon, that "was raised and preserved by the wisdom of the ages", whose general principles of government were "wise, simple, and beneficent". Modeled on the pattern of ancient pagan Greece, it stands as one of classical glories in the history of man.

Was "paganism" at all superstitious? It was. But its superstitions were less injurious and far less debilitating than the delusions of Christianity. Its mythology had little in it to pall the senses or paralyze the intellect. Its gods were idealizations that were more to be venerated than feared and who possessed nothing of the implacable fiendishness of the Judaic God. They were, these Romans, shocked and horrified by the revolting character of the Christian deity, "It was unfortunate,'' says the great historian Bury, "that there is nothing to suggest that the average citizen of Rome was any more superstitious than the average Jews of today. It is doubtful if the rank and file then were any more credulous than the religious rabble of our time. Rome had its superstitions, but they were tempered in part, by an artistic refinement that Christianity could not emulate.

Polytheism prevailed, with a host of gods and goddesses patronizing the arts and sciences and personifying the beauties of the world. There were no penalties prescribed for those who did not venerate these deities; nor was there a Spanish Inquisition.

Augury and divination were practiced, with the seer, the sibyl, and the soothsayer foretelling the future, but without the blighting doctrine of hell fire and damnation of the Christian creed. You could ignore the gods without being told that you would simmer in purgatory for a season or burn in Hell forever.

The plebeian of that time could consult his oracle in the marketplace as readily as a Catholic today can buy a St. Christopher medal or commune with the saints. He went to the temple, if he wished, and performed his devotions without any cannibalistic rites. He did not, at least, eat his gods, or drink their blood. His amulets, his omens, his dreams, all played an important part in his life, but these were less prodigious matters of concern than the relics of saints are today. He did not rely on ancient shin-bones to cure him of disease.

As for the intellectuals of the time, they were free to pursue their inquiries and express their thoughts without molestation by the State. Some, publicly at least, acquiesced to forms and ceremonies which they inwardly despised. Emperors and senators alike, the patricians of art and learning, the thinkers and orators of the Forum, often conformed to the conventions of the time out of deference to the crowd. Like the demagogues of our day, they could assume an outward semblance of respect for the vulgarities of the mob. But in spite of this, there was grandeur in Rome, a grandeur that outweighed all its petty and even serious evils. Above all, there was an atmosphere of toleration that cannot be found in any period of Christian ascendancy. Learning and the fine art of living were cultivated without the restraining hand of theological doctrine or the blighting influence of priests. There was no Index of prohibited books.

There was complete liberty of thought. "According to the maxims of universal toleration", says Gibbon, "the Romans protected a superstition which they despised." This applied to all creeds and cults, which functioned unmolested in the great Roman Empire.

In the beginning, Rome was tolerant of all religion -- even to enduring that of the Jews, who "enjoyed", as Gibbon tells us, "the free exercise of their unsocial religion." Her suppressions came later, in retaliation for the frenzied zeal, and open violence, and surly insolence which marked the rise of Christianity.

To the citizen of Rome, the Jews presented a strange pattern of behavior for those who had come to settle in his midst. "The sullen obstinacy", says Gibbon, "with which they maintained their peculiar rites and unsocial manners, seemed to mark them out as a distinct species of men, who boldly professed, or who faintly disguised, their implacable hatred to the rest of human-kind." The "seed of Abraham", like its successors, the Christians, failed to appreciate the liberal atmosphere and intellectual freedom they enjoyed in Rome.

Dr. Hancock attributes the rise of astrology today to "a marked decline in Biblical and doctrinal teaching in the Church", and foresees black disaster unless there is a revival of interest in the Bible. "People today", says he, "owing to their lack of Biblical knowledge are not able to reason on the trustworthiness of this neo-paganism . . "

And all this happens in an age when the Bible is distributed by the millions, when it is the world's "best seller", and when everybody, we are told, is clamoring for a copy.

Saving a man from superstition by sending him to the Bible, is like throwing an anvil to a drowning man, The book itself is the world's most sanctified fraud, and, is more responsible for wishy-washy thinking today than any other influence. It has crippled the brains of men and contributed more to the befuddlement of our race than a million "horror-scopes".

It is science, not the Bible, that is blasting at astrology, that exposes its pretensions and proves it to be just another superstition, no less obnoxious and stultifying to the intellect than the religion which upholds prophecy by dreams, teaches magic and miracles, and caters to the lowest level of credulity.

"When the superstitious and magical elements become too strong in a people", writes Dr. Hancock, "then there follows as the day the night the inevitable intellectual and moral decay." We agree with him. And it is because Christianity is loaded with these elements, that he should at once abandon it. Little is to be gained by eliminating a minor superstition if a major one remains.